[illustration: sir henry morgan--buccaneer.] _sir henry morgan, buccaneer_ _a romance of the spanish main_ _by_ _cyrus townsend brady_ _author of "for love of country," "for the freedom of the sea," "the southerners," "hohenzollern," "the quiberon touch," "woven with the ship," "in the wasp's nest," etc._ [illustration] _illustrations by j.n. marchand and will crawford_ g.w. dillingham company publishers new york copyright, , by the pearson publishing company copyright, , by g.w. dillingham company copyright, , in great britain [_all rights reserved_] _sir henry morgan, buccaneer_ _issued october, _ _to my only brother_ colonel jasper ewing brady _late u.s. army_ "woe to the realms which he coasted! for there was shedding of blood and rending of hair, rape of maiden and slaughter of priest, gathering of ravens and wolves to the feast; when he hoisted his standard black, before him was battle, behind him wrack, and he burned the churches, that heathen dane, to light his band to their barks again." scott: "harold the dauntless." _preface_ in literature there have been romantic pirates, gentlemanly pirates, kind-hearted pirates, even humorous pirates--in fact, all sorts and conditions of pirates. in life there was only one kind. in this book that kind appears. several presentations--in the guise of novels--of pirates, the like of which never existed on land or sea, have recently appeared. a perusal of these interesting romances awoke in me a desire to write a story of a real pirate, a pirate of the genuine species. much research for historical essays, amid ancient records and moldy chronicles, put me in possession of a vast amount of information concerning the doings of the greatest of all pirates; a man unique among his nefarious brethren, in that he played the piratical game so successfully that he received the honor of knighthood from king charles ii. a belted knight of england, who was also a brutal, rapacious, lustful, murderous villain and robber--and undoubtedly a pirate, although he disguised his piracy under the name of buccaneering--is certainly a striking and unusual figure. therefore, when i imagined my pirate story i pitched upon sir henry morgan as _the_ character of the romance. it will spare the critic to admit that the tale hereinafter related is a work of the imagination, and is not an historical romance. according to the latest accounts, sir henry morgan, by a singular oversight of fate, who must have been nodding at the time, died in his bed--not peacefully i trust--and was buried in consecrated ground. but i do him no injustice, i hasten to assure the reader, in the acts that i have attributed to him, for they are more than paralleled by the well authenticated deeds of this human monster. i did not even invent the blowing up of the english frigate in the action with the spanish ships. if i have assumed for the nonce the attributes of that unaccountably somnolent fate, and brought him to a terrible end, i am sure abundant justification will be found in the recital of his mythical misdeeds, which, i repeat, were not a circumstance to his real transgressions. indeed, one has to go back to the most cruel and degenerate of the roman emperors to parallel the wickednesses of morgan and his men. it is not possible to put upon printed pages explicit statements of what they did. the curious reader may find some account of these "gentlemen of the black flag," so far as it can be translated into present-day books intended for popular reading, in my volume of "colonial fights and fighters." the writing of this novel has been by no means an easy task. how to convey clearly the doings of the buccaneer so there could be no misapprehension on the part of the reader, and yet to write with due delicacy and restraint a book for the general public, has been a problem with which i have wrestled long and arduously. the whole book has been completely revised some six times. each time i have deleted something, which, while it has refined, i trust has not impaired the strength of the tale. if the critic still find things to censure, let him pass over charitably in view of what might have been! as to the other characters, i have done violence to the name and fame of no man, for all of those who played any prominent part among the buccaneers in the story were themselves men scarcely less criminal than morgan. be it known that i have simply appropriated names, not careers. they all had adventures of their own and were not associated with morgan in life. teach--i have a weakness for that bad young man--is known to history as "blackbeard"--a much worse man than the roaring singer of these pages. the delectable hornigold, the one-eyed, with the "wild justice" of his revenge, was another real pirate. so was the faithful black dog, the maroon. so were raveneau de lussan, rock braziliano, l'ollonois, velsers, sawkins, and the rest. in addition to my desire to write a real story of a real pirate i was actuated by another intent. there are numberless tales of the brave days of the spanish main, from "westward ho!" down. in every one of them, without exception, the hero is a noble, gallant, high-souled, high-spirited, valiant descendant of the anglo-saxon race, while the villain--and such villains they are!--is always a proud and haughty spaniard, who comes to grief dreadfully in the final trial which determines the issue. my sympathies, from a long course of reading of such romances, have gone out to the under don. i determined to write a story with a spanish gentleman for the hero, and a spanish gentlewoman for the heroine, and let the position of villain be filled by one of our own race. such things were, and here they are. i have dwelt with pleasure on the love affairs of the gallant alvarado and the beautiful mercedes. but, after all, the story is preëminently the story of morgan. i have striven to make it a character sketch of that remarkable personality. i wished to portray his ferocity and cruelty, his brutality and wantonness, his treachery and rapacity; to exhibit, without lightening, the dark shadows of his character, and to depict his inevitable and utter breakdown finally; yet at the same time to bring out his dauntless courage, his military ability, his fertility and resourcefulness, his mastery of his men, his capacity as a seaman, which are qualities worthy of admiration. yet i have not intended to make him an admirable figure. to do that would be to falsify history and disregard the artistic canons. so i have tried to show him as he was; great and brave, small and mean, skilful and able, greedy and cruel; and lastly, in his crimes and punishment, a coward. and if a mere romance may have a lesson, here in this tale is one of a just retribution, exhibited in the awful, if adequate, vengeance finally wreaked upon morgan by those whom he had so fearfully and dreadfully wronged. cyrus townsend brady. brooklyn, n.y., _december, _. note.--the date of the sack of panama has been advanced to comply with the demands of this romance. _table of contents_ book i. how sir henry morgan in his old age resolved to go a-buccaneering again. chapter page i.--wherein sir henry morgan made good use of the ten minutes allowed him ii.--how master benjamin hornigold, the one-eyed, agreed to go with his old captain iii.--in which sir henry morgan finds himself at the head of a crew once more iv.--which tells how the _mary rose_, frigate, changed masters and flags book ii. the cruise of the buccaneers and what befel them on the seas. chapter page v.--how the _mary rose_ overhauled three spanish treasure ships vi.--in which is related the strange expedient of the captain and how they took the great galleon vii.--wherein bartholomew sawkins mutinied against his captain and what befel him on that account viii.--how they strove to club-haul the galleon and failed to save her on the coast of caracas book iii. which treats of the tangled love affairs of the pearl of caracas. chapter page ix.--discloses the hopeless passion between donna mercedes de lara and captain dominique alvarado, the commandante of la guayra x.--how donna mercedes tempted her lover and how he strove valiantly to resist her appeals xi.--wherein captain alvarado pledges his word to the viceroy of venezuela, the count alvaro de lara, and to don felipe de tobar, his friend xii.--shows how donna mercedes chose death rather than give up captain alvarado, and what befel them on the road over the mountains xiii.--in which captain alvarado is forsworn and with donna mercedes in his arms breaks his plighted word book iv. in which is related an account of the taking of la guayra by the buccaneers and the dreadful perils of donna mercedes de lara and captain alvarado in that city. chapter page xiv.--wherein the crew of the galleon intercepts the two lovers by the way xv.--tells how mercedes de lara returned the unsought caress of sir henry morgan and the means by which the buccaneers surmounted the walls xvi.--in which benjamin hornigold recognizes a cross and captain alvarado finds and loses a mother on the strand xvii.--which describes an audience with sir henry morgan and the treachery by which captain alvarado benefited book v. how the spaniards re-took la guayra and how captain alvarado found a name and something dearer still in the city. chapter page xviii.--discloses the way in which mercedes de lara fought with woman's cunning against captain henry morgan xix.--how captain alvarado crossed the mountains, found the viceroy, and placed his life in his master's hands xx.--wherein master teach, the pirate, dies better than he lived xxi.--the recital of how captain alvarado and don felipe de tobar came to the rescue in the nick of time xxii.--in which sir henry morgan sees a cross, cherishes a hope, and makes a claim xxiii.--how the good priest, fra antonio de las casas, told the truth, to the great relief of captain alvarado and donna mercedes, and the discomfiture of master benjamin hornigold and sir henry morgan xxiv.--in which sir henry morgan appeals unavailingly alike to the pity of woman, the forgiveness of priest, the friendship of comrade, and the hatred of men book vi. in which the career of sir henry morgan is ended on isla de la tortuga, to the great delectation of master benjamin hornigold, his sometime friend. chapter page xxv.--and last. wherein is seen how the judgment of god came upon the buccaneers in the end _illustrations_ by j.n. marchand sir henry morgan--buccaneer _frontispiece_ page with the point of his own sword pressed against the back of his neck, he repeated the message which morgan had given him (_see page _) their blades crossed in an instant ... there was a roar from carib's pistol, and the old man fell (_see page _) morgan instantly snatched a pistol from de lussan's hand and shot the man dead (_see page _) alvarado threw his right arm around her, and with a force superhuman dragged her from the saddle (_see page _) the moonlight shone full upon her face, and as he stooped over he scanned it with his one eye (_see page _) ... he reached the summit--breathless, exhausted, unhelmed, weaponless, coatless, in rags; torn, bruised, bleeding, but unharmed (_see page _) ... he threw the contents at the feet of the buccaneer, and there rolled before him the severed head of ... his solitary friend (_see page _) hell had no terror like to this, which he, living, suffered (_see page _) by will crawford page "to our next meeting, mr. bradley" (_see page _) there was one man ... who did not join in the singing (_see page _) carlingford had risen in his boat ... and with dauntless courage he shook his bared sword (_see page _) the high poop and rail of the spaniard was black with iron-capped men (_see page _) "wilt obey me in the future?" cried the captain (_see page _) "are you in a state for a return journey at once, señor?" he asked of the young officer (_see page _) "the fault is mine," said alvarado (_see page _) early as it was, the viceroy and his officers ... bid the travelers godspeed (_see page _) during the intervals of repose the young man allowed his party, the two lovers were constantly together (_see page _) but de lussan shot him dead, and before the others could make a move, morgan stepped safely on the sand (_see page _) "slay them, o god! strike and spare not!" (_see page _) "what would you do for him?" "my life for his," she answered bravely (_see page _) "hast another weapon in thy bodice?" (_see page _) quite the best of the pirates, he! (_see page _) by an impulse ... she slipped her arms around his neck ... and kissed him (_see page _) "treachery? my lord, his was the first" (_see page _) "'tis a certificate of marriage of----" (_see page _) "god help me!" cried alvarado, throwing aside the poniard, "i cannot" (_see page _) "i wanted to let you know there was water here.... there is not enough for both of us. who will get it? i; look!" (_see page _) "harry morgan's way to lead--old ben hornigold's to follow--ha, ha! ho, ho!" he waded out into the water ... (_see page _) book i how sir henry morgan in his old age resolved to go a-buccaneering again _sir henry morgan, buccaneer_ chapter i wherein sir henry morgan made good use of the ten minutes allowed him his gracious majesty, king charles ii. of england, in sportive--and acquisitive--mood, had made him a knight; but, as that merry monarch himself had said of another unworthy subject whom he had ennobled--his son, by the left hand--"god almighty could not make him a gentleman!" [illustration] yet, to the casual inspection, little or nothing appeared to be lacking to entitle him to all the consideration attendant upon that ancient degree. his attire, for instance, might be a year or two behind the fashion of england and still further away from that of france, then, as now, the standard maker in dress, yet it represented the extreme of the mode in his majesty's fair island of jamaica. that it was a trifle too vivid in its colors, and too striking in its contrasts for the best taste at home, possibly might be condoned by the richness of the material used and the prodigality of trimming which decorated it. silk and satin from the orient, lace from flanders, leather from spain, with jewels from everywhere, marked him as a person entitled to some consideration, at least. even more compulsory of attention, if not of respect, were his haughty, overbearing, satisfied manner, his look of command, the expression of authority in action he bore. quite in keeping with his gorgeous appearance was the richly furnished room in which he sat in autocratic isolation, plumed hat on head, quaffing, as became a former brother-of-the-coast and sometime buccaneer, amazing draughts of the fiery spirits of the island of which he happened to be, _ad interim_, the royal authority. but it was his face which attested the acuteness of the sneering observation of the unworthy giver of the royal accolade. no gentleman ever bore face like that. framed in long, thin, gray curls which fell upon his shoulders after the fashion of the time, it was as cruel, as evil, as sensuous, as ruthless, as powerful an old face as had ever looked over a bulwark at a sinking ship, or viewed with indifference the ravaging of a devoted town. courage there was, capacity in large measure, but not one trace of human kindness. thin, lean, hawk-like, ruthless, cunning, weather-beaten, it was sadly out of place in its brave attire in that vaulted chamber. it was the face of a man who ruled by terror; who commanded by might. it was the face of an adventurer, too, one never sure of his position, but always ready to fight for it, and able to fight well. there was a watchful, alert, inquiring look in the fierce blue eyes, an intent, expectant expression in the craggy countenance, that told of the uncertainties of his assumptions; yet the lack of assurance was compensated for by the firm, resolute line of the mouth under the trifling upturned mustache, with its lips at the same time thin and sensual. to be fat and sensual is to appear to mitigate the latter evil with at least a pretence at good humor; to be thin and sensual is to be a devil. this man was evil, not with the grossness of a debauchee but with the thinness of the devotee. and he was an old man, too. sixty odd years of vicious life, glossed over in the last two decades by an assumption of respectability, had swept over the gray hairs, which evoked no reverence. there was a heavy frown on his face on that summer evening in the year of our lord, . the childless wife whom he had taken for his betterment and her worsening, some ten years since--in succession to satan only knew how many nameless, unrecognized precursors--had died a few moments before, in the chamber above his head. fairly bought from a needy father, she had been a cloak to lend him a certain respectability when he settled down, red with the blood of thousands whom he had slain and rich with the treasure of cities that he had wasted, to enjoy the evening of his life. like all who are used for such purposes, she knew, after a little space, the man over whom the mantle of her reputation had been flung. she had rejoiced at the near approach of that death for which she had been longing almost since her wedding day. that she had shrunk from him in the very articles of dissolution when he stood by her bedside, indicated the character of the relationship. to witness death and to cause it had been the habit of this man. he marked it in her case, as in others, with absolute indifference--he cared so little for her that he did not even feel relief at her going--yet because he was the governor of jamaica (really he was only the vice-governor, but between the departure of the royal governor and the arrival of another he held supreme power) he had been forced to keep himself close on the day his wife died, by that public opinion to which he was indifferent but which he could not entirely defy. consequently he had not been on the strand at port royal when the _mary rose_, frigate, fresh from england, had dropped anchor in the harbor after her weary voyage across the great sea. he did not even yet know of her arrival, and therefore the incoming governor had not been welcomed by the man who sat temporarily, as he had in several preceding interregnums, in the seats of the mighty. however, everybody else on the island had welcomed him with joy, for of all men who had ever held office in jamaica sir henry morgan, sometime the chief devil of those nefarious bands who disguised their piracy under the specious title of buccaneering, was the most detested. but because of the fortunate demise of lady morgan, as it turned out, sir henry was not present to greet my lord carlingford, who was to supersede him--and more. the deep potations the old buccaneer had indulged in to all outward intent passed harmlessly down his lean and craggy throat. he drank alone--the more solitary the drinker the more dangerous the man--yet the room had another occupant, a tall, brawny, brown-hued, grim-faced savage, whose gaudy livery ill accorded with his stern and ruthless visage. he stood by the vice-governor, watchful, attentive, and silent, imperturbably filling again and again the goblet from which he drank. "more rum," said the master, at last breaking the silence while lifting his tall glass toward the man. "scuttle me, black dog," he added, smiling sardonically at the silent maroon who poured again with steady hand, "you are the only soul on this island who doesn't fear me. that woman above yonder, curse her, shuddered away from me as i looked at her dying. but your hand is steady. you and old ben hornigold are the only ones who don't shrink back, hey, carib? is it love or hate?" he mused, as the man made no answer. "more," he cried, again lifting the glass which he had instantly drained. but the maroon, instead of pouring, bent his head toward the window, listened a moment, and then turned and lifted a warning hand. the soft breeze of the evening, laden with the fragrance of the tropics, swept up from the river and wafted to the vice-governor's ears the sound of hoof beats on the hard, dry road. with senses keenly alert, he, also, listened. there were a number of them, a troop possibly. they were drawing nearer; they were coming toward his house, the slimmer house near spanish town, far up on the mountain side, where he sought relief from the enervating heats of the lower land. "horsemen!" he cried. "coming to the house! many of them! ah, they dismount. go to the door, carib." but before the maroon could obey they heard steps on the porch. some one entered the hall. the door of the drawing-room was abruptly thrown open, and two men in the uniform of the english army, with the distinguishing marks of the governor's guard at jamaica, unceremoniously entered the room. they were fully armed. one of them, the second, had drawn his sword and held a cocked pistol in the other hand. the first, whose weapons were still in their sheaths, carried a long official paper with a portentous seal dangling from it. both were booted and spurred and dusty from riding, and both, contrary to the custom and etiquette of the island, kept their plumed hats on their heads. "sir henry morgan----" began the bearer of the paper. "by your leave, gentlemen," interrupted morgan, with an imperious wave of his hand, "lieutenant hawxherst and ensign bradley of my guard, i believe. you will uncover at once and apologize for having entered so unceremoniously." as he spoke, the governor rose to his feet and stood by the table, his right hand unconsciously resting upon the heavy glass flagon of rum. he towered above the other two men as he stood there transfixing them with his resentful glance, his brow heavy with threat and anger. but the two soldiers made no movement toward complying with the admonition of their sometime superior. "d'ye hear me?" he cried, stepping forward, reddening with rage at their apparent contumacy. "and bethink ye, sirs, had best address me, who stand in the place of the king's majesty, as 'your excellency,' or i'll have you broke, knaves." "we need no lessons in manners from you, sir henry morgan," cried hawxherst, angry in turn to be so browbeaten, though yesterday he would have taken it mildly enough. "and know by this, sir," lifting the paper, "that you are no longer governor of this island, and can claim respect from no one." "what do you mean?" "the _mary rose_ frigate arrived this morning, bringing lord carlingford as his majesty's new governor, and this order of arrest." "arrest? for whom?" "for one sir henry morgan." "for what, pray?" "well, sir, for murder, theft, treason--the catalogue fills the paper. you are to be despatched to england to await the king's pleasure. i am sent by lord carlingford to fetch you to the jail at port royal." "you seem to find it a pleasant task." "by heaven, i do, sir!" cried the soldier fiercely. "i am a gentleman born, of the proudest family in the old dominion, and have been forced to bow and scrape and endure your insults and commands, you bloody villain, but now----" "'tis no part of a soldier's duty, sir, to insult a prisoner," interrupted morgan, not without a certain dignity. he was striving to gain time to digest this surprising piece of news and thinking deeply what was to be done in this entirely unexpected crisis. "curse it all, hawxherst!" ensign bradley burst out, pulling at the sleeve of his superior. "you go too far, man; this is unseemly." hawxherst passed his hand across his brow and by an effort somewhat regained his self-control. "natheless 'tis in this paper writ that you are to go to england a prisoner on the _mary rose_, to await the king's pleasure," he added, savagely. "his gracious majesty hath laid his sword upon my shoulder. i am a knight of his english court, one who has served him well upon the seas. his coffers have i enriched by--but let that pass. i do not believe that king charles, god bless him----" "stop! the _mary rose_ brings the news that king charles ii. is dead, and there reigns in his stead his gracious majesty king james." "god rest the soul of the king!" cried morgan, lifting his hat from his head. "he was a merry and a gallant gentleman. i know not this james. how if i do not go with you?" "you have ten minutes in which to decide, sir," answered hawxherst. "and then?" "then if i don't bring you forth, the men of yonder troop will come in without further order. eh, bradley?" "quite so, sir henry," answered the younger man. "and every avenue of escape is guarded. yield you, sir; believe me, there's naught else." "i have ten minutes then," said the old man reflectively, "ten minutes! hum!" "you may have," answered the captain curtly, "if you choose to take so long. and i warn you," he added, "that you'd best make use of that time to bid farewell to lady morgan or give other order for the charge of your affairs, for 'twill be a long time, i take it, before you are back here again." "lady morgan is dead, gentlemen, in the room above." at this young bradley removed his hat, an example which hawxherst followed a moment after. they had always felt sorry for the unfortunate wife of the buccaneer. "as for my affairs, they can wait," continued morgan slowly. "the game is not played out yet, and perchance i shall have another opportunity to arrange them. meanwhile, fetch glasses, carib, from yonder buffet." he nodded toward a huge sideboard which stood against the wall immediately in the rear of ensign bradley, and at the same time shot a swift, meaning glance at the maroon, which was not lost upon him as he moved rapidly and noiselessly in obedience. "gentlemen, will you drink with me to our next merry meeting?" he continued, turning to them. "we're honest soldiers, honorable gentlemen, and we'll drink with no murderer, no traitor!" cried hawxherst promptly. "so?" answered morgan, his eye sparkling with baleful light, although he remained otherwise entirely unmoved. "and let me remind you," continued the soldier, "that your time is passing." "well, keep fast the glasses, carib, the gentlemen have no fancy for drinking. i suppose, sirs, that i must fain yield me, but first let me look at your order ere i surrender myself peaceably to you," said the deposed governor, with surprising meekness. "indeed, sir----" "'tis my right." "well, perchance it may be. there can be no harm in it, i think; eh, bradley?" queried the captain, catching for the moment his subaltern's eye. then, as the latter nodded his head, the former extended the paper to morgan. at that instant the old buccaneer shot one desperate glance at the maroon, who stood back of the shoulder of the officer with the drawn sword and pistol. as hawxherst extended the paper, morgan, with the quickness of an albatross, grasped his wrist with his left hand, jerked him violently forward, and struck him a vicious blow on the temple with the heavy glass decanter, which shivered in his hand. hawxherst pitched down at the governor's feet, covered with blood and rum. so powerful had been morgan's blow that the brains of the man had almost been beaten out. he lay shuddering and quivering on the floor. quickly as morgan struck, however, carib had been quicker. as the glass crashed against the temple of the senior, the maroon had wrenched the pistol from the junior soldier's hand, and before he realized what had happened a cold muzzle was pressed against his forehead. "drop that sword!" cried morgan instantly, and as the weapon fell upon the floor, he continued, smiling: "that was well done, black dog. quite like old times, eh?" "shall i fire?" asked carib, curling his lips over his teeth in what passed with him for a smile. "not yet." "your excellency," gasped poor bradley, "i didn't want to come. i remonstrated with him a moment since. for god's sake----" "silence, sirrah! and how much time have i now, i wonder?" he looked at his watch as he asked the question. "three minutes! three minutes between you and instant death, ensign bradley, for should one of your men enter the room now you see what you would have to expect, sir." "oh, sir, have mercy----" "unless you do exactly what i say you will be lying there with that carrion," cried morgan, kicking the prostrate body savagely with his jewelled shoes. "what do you want me to do? for god's sake be quick, your excellency. time is almost up. i hear the men move." "you are afraid, sir. there still want two minutes----" "yes, yes, but----" "go to the window yonder," cried the old man contemptuously--whatever he was he was not afraid--"and speak to them. do you, carib, stand behind, by the window, well concealed. if he hesitate, if he falter, kill him instantly." "pistol or knife?" "the knife, it makes less noise," cried the buccaneer, chuckling with devilish glee. "only one minute and a half now, eh, mr. bradley?" "they're coming, they're coming!" whispered bradley, gasping for breath. "oh, sir----" "we still have a minute," answered morgan coolly. "now, stop them." "but how?" "tell them that you have captured me; that my wife is dead; that you and lieutenant hawxherst will spend the night here and fetch me down to port royal in the morning; that i have yielded myself a prisoner. bid them stay where they are and drink to your health in bottles of rum, which shall be sent out to them, and then to go back to port royal and tell the new governor. and see that your voice does not tremble, sir!" there was a sudden movement outside. "if they get in here," added morgan quickly, "you are a dead man." bradley, with the negro clutching his arm, ran to the window. with the point of his own sword pressed against the back of his neck he repeated the message which morgan had given him, which was received by the little squadron with shouts of approbation. he turned from the window, pale and trembling. moistening his lips he whispered: "i stopped them just in time." "well for you that you did," said morgan grimly. "come hither! face that wall! now stand there! move but a hair's-breadth, turn your head the thousandth part of a degree, and i run you through," he added, baring his sword. "rum for the men without, carib," he added, "and then tell me when they are gone." while the two were left alone in the room, morgan amused himself by pricking the unfortunate officer with the point of the weapon, at the same time enforcing immobility and silence by the most ferocious threats of a speedy and cruel death. the men outside drank noisily and presently departed, and the half-breed came back. "bind this fool," morgan commanded briefly. "then bid the slaves keep close in their cabins on pain of my displeasure--they know what it is. then fetch the fastest horse in the stable to the front door. get my riding-boots and cloak, and before you go hand me that little desk yonder. be quick about it, too, for time presses, although i have more of it than these gentlemen would have allowed me." as the maroon, after carefully lashing the officer with a seaman's expertness, rushed out to busy himself in carrying out these commands, morgan opened the desk which he had handed to him and took from it several rouleaux of gold and a little bag filled with the rarest of precious stones; then he made a careful examination of the body on the floor. "not quite dead yet," he murmured, "but there is no use wasting shot or thrust upon him, he won't survive that blow. as for you, sir," looking at the paralyzed ensign, lying bound upon the floor, "you thought you could outwit the old buccaneer, eh? you shall see. i dealt with men when you were a babe in arms, and a babe in arms you are still. ho! ho!" he laughed long and loudly, though there was neither mirth nor merriment in his sinister tones. the blood of the poor listener froze in his veins at the sound of it. the brief preparations which morgan had indicated as necessary for the journey were soon made. [illustration: with the point of his own sword pressed against the back of his neck, he repeated the message which morgan had given him.] he was always promptly obeyed by his own people; the slaves fled his presence when they could as if he had been a pestilence. at a sign from his taciturn body-servant at the open door that the horse was ready, he rose to his feet. "shall i kill this one now?" asked the maroon. morgan looked at the young man reflectively. the tongue of the ensign clave to the roof of his mouth; the sweat stood out on his forehead; he could not utter a word from fright. he was bound and trussed so tightly that he could not make a move, either. his eyes, however, spoke volumes. "well," said sir henry deliberately, "it would be a pity to kill him--" he paused; "in a hurry," he added. "dead men tell no tales." "eh, well, we can take care of that. just lay him near his friend, lock the doors when i am gone and set the place on fire. the people are all out of the house. see they remain away. 'twill make a hot, glorious blaze. you know the landing opposite port royal?" the half-breed nodded. "meet me there as quick as you can. lose no time." "aye, aye, sah," answered the carib. "and lady morgan, sah?" "let her burn with the other two. she is so saintly she may like the fire, for i am afraid there will be none where she has gone. good-by, master bradley. you allowed me ten minutes. i take it that this house will burn slowly at first, so perhaps you may count upon--let us say--half an hour. i'm generous, you see. harry morgan's way! 'tis a pity you can't live to take my message to lord carlingford. the next time he sends any one for me let him send men, not fools and--cowards." "you villain! you cursed, murdering villain!" gasped bradley at last. "to our next meeting, mr. bradley, and may it be in a cooler place than you will be in half an hour!" chapter ii how master benjamin hornigold, the one-eyed, agreed to go with his old captain close under the towering walls of the old spanish fort, now for a quarter of a century dominated by the english flag, as if seeking protection from its frowning battlements with their tiers of old-fashioned guns, stood the blue anchor tavern. it had been a famous resort for the bold spirits of the evil sort who had made port royal the base of their operations in many a desperate sea venture in piracy in the two decades that had just passed; but times had changed, even if men had not changed in them. [illustration] the buccaneer had been banished from the caribbean. whereupon, with a circumspect prudence, he had extended his operations into the south seas, where he was farther from civilization, consequently harder to get at, and, naturally, more difficult to control. since the sack of panama, twenty-five years before, his fortunes had been rapidly declining. one of the principal agents in promoting his downfall had been the most famous rover of them all. after robbing his companions of most of their legitimate proportion of the spoils of panama, sir henry had bought his knighthood at the hands of the venal charles, paying for it in treasure, into the origin of which, with his usual careless insouciance, his easy-going majesty had not inquired any too carefully. and the old pirate had settled down, if not to live cleanly at least to keep within the strict letter of the law. there was thereafter nothing he abhorred so thoroughly as buccaneering and the buccaneer--ostensibly, that is. like many a reformed rake this gentle child of hell, when the opportunity came to him with the position of vice-governor, endeavored to show the sincerity of his reformation by his zealous persecution. he hanged without mercy such of his old companions in crime as fell into his clutches. they had already vowed vengeance upon him, these sometime brethren of the coast, for his betrayal of their confidence at panama; they had further resented his honor of knighthood, his cloak of respectability, his assumption of gentility, and now that he hanged and punished right and left without mercy, their anger and animosity were raised to the point of fury, and many of them swore deeply with bitter oaths that if they ever caught him defenceless they would make him pay dearly in torture and torment for these various offences. he knew them well enough to realize their feelings toward him, and blind fate affording him the opportunity of the upper hand he made them rue more bitterly than ever their wild threats against him. he had, moreover, so conducted himself in his official position that everybody, good, bad, and indifferent, on the island hated him. why he had not been assassinated long since was a mystery. but he was a dangerous man to attack. absolutely fearless, prompt, decisive, resourceful, and with the powers and privileges of the office he held besides, he had so far escaped all the dangers and difficulties of his situation. charles had constantly befriended him and had refused to give ear either to the reiterated pleas of the islanders for his removal, or to the emphatic representations of the spanish court, which, in bitter recollection of what he had done--and no more cruel or more successful pirate had ever swept the caribbean and ravaged the spanish main--were persistently urged upon his notice. but with the accession of james the situation was immediately altered. the new monarch had at once acceded to the demand of the spanish ambassador, presented anew at this opportune time, and a new governor of jamaica was despatched over the sea with orders to arrest morgan and send him to england. hawxherst, who, in common with all the officers of the insular army, hated the bloodstained villain whom fortune had placed over them, had solicited lord carlingford to allow him to execute the order, with what success we have seen. the news of the long-wished-for downfall of the tyrant had been spread abroad and formed the one topic of conversation in port royal and the vicinity that day. now the work of the day was over and, as usual, the blue anchor tavern was crowded with men from the frigate and other shipping in the harbor, mingling with others from the purlieus of the town. fumes of rum and spirits pervaded the tobacco-smoked barroom which served as the main parlor of the inn. it was yet early in the evening, but the crowd, inflamed with liquor, was already in uproarious mood. over in the corner a young englishman was singing in a rich, deep voice a new song by a famous poet of london town: "let us sing and be merry, dance, joke and rejoice, with claret and sherry, theorbo and voice! the changeable world to our joy is unjust, all treasure's uncertain, then down with your dust; in frolics dispose your pounds, shillings and pence, for we shall be nothing a hundred years hence. we'll sport and be free, with frank, betty and dolly, have lobsters and oysters to cure melancholy; fish dinners will make a man spring like a flea, dame venus, love's lady, was born of the sea; with her and with bacchus we'll tickle the sense. for we shall be past it a hundred years hence." it was a popular song, evidently, for the whole assembly joined in the chorus-- "in frolics dispose your pounds, shillings and pence, for we shall be nothing a hundred years hence." they roared it out in the deep bass voices of the sea, marking the time by hammering in unison upon the oaken tables with their pewter mugs and flagons. the sentiment seemed to suit the company, if the zest with which they sang be any criterion. care was taken to insure a sufficient pause, too, after the chorus between each of the verses, to permit the drinking, after all the essential part of the evening's entertainment, to be performed without hindrance. there was one man, however, from the post of honor which he occupied at the head of the table evidently held in high consideration among the habitués of the inn, who did not join in the singing. he was a little man, who made up for his shortness of stature by breadth of shoulder and length of arm. there was an ugly black patch over his left eye; no one had ever seen him without that patch since the day of the assault on the fort at chagres; an indian arrow had pierced his eye on that eventful day. men told how he had gone to the surgeon requesting him to pull it out, and when the young doctor, who had been but a short time with the buccaneers, shrank from jerking the barb out in view of the awful pain which would attend his action, had hesitated, reluctant, the wounded man had deliberately torn out the arrow, and with oaths and curses for the other's cowardice had bound up the wound himself with strips torn from his shirt and resumed the fighting. his courage there, and before and after, although he was an illiterate person and could neither read nor write, had caused him to be appointed boatswain of the ship that had carried morgan's flag, and he had followed his leader for many years with a blind devotion that risked all and stuck at nothing to be of service to him. it had been many years since master benjamin hornigold, coming down from bleak new england because he found his natural bent of mind out of harmony with the habits and customs of his puritan ancestors, had drifted into buccaneering under the flag of his chief. he was an old man now, but those who felt the force of his mighty arms were convinced that age had not withered him to any appreciable degree. aside from morgan, hornigold had loved but one human creature, his younger brother, a man of somewhat different stamp, who had been graduated from harvard college but, impelled by some wild strain in his blood and by the example of his brother, had joined the buccaneers. there were many men of gentle blood who were well acquainted with the polite learning of the day among these sea rovers from time to time, and it is related that on that same panama excursion when "from the silent peak in darien" they beheld for the first time after their tremendous march the glittering expanse of the south seas, with white panama in its green trees before them, the old cry of the famous ten thousand, "thalatta! thalatta! the sea! the sea!" had burst from many lips. all his learning and refinement of manner had not prevented young ebenezer hornigold from being as bad at heart as his brother, which is saying a great deal, and because he was younger, more reckless, less prudent, than he of riper years, he had incautiously put himself in the power of morgan and had been hanged with short shrift. benjamin, standing upon the outskirts of the crowd jesting and roaring around the foot of the gibbet, with a grief and rage in his heart at his impotency, presently found himself hating his old captain with a fierceness proportioned to his devotion in the past. for he had appealed for mercy personally to morgan by the memory of his former services and had been sternly repulsed and coldly dismissed with a warning that he should look to his own future conduct lest, following in the course of his brother, he should find himself with his neck in the noose. morgan, colossal in his conceit and careless in his courage, thought not to inquire, or, if he gave the subject any consideration at all, dismissed it from his mind as of little moment, as to what was the subsequent state of hornigold's feelings. hornigold could have killed morgan on numberless occasions, but a consuming desire for a more adequate revenge than mere death had taken hold of him, and he deferred action until he could contrive some means by which to strike him in a way that he conceived would glut his obsession of inexpiable hatred. hornigold had reformed, outwardly that is, and was now engaged in the useful and innocent business of piloting ships into the harbor, also steering their crews, after the anchors were down, into the blue anchor tavern, in which place his voice and will were supreme. he had heard, for lord carlingford had made no secret of his orders, that his old master was to be arrested and sent back to england. the news which would have brought joy to a lesser villain, in that it meant punishment, filled him with dismay, for such was the peculiarity of his hatred that he wanted the punishment to come directly from him--through his agency, that is. he desired it to be of such character that it should be neither speedy nor easy, and he lusted most of all that morgan should know in his last hours--which hornigold prayed satan might be long ones--to whom he was indebted for it all. and, strange as it may seem, there was still a certain loyalty of a distorted, perverted kind, in the man's breast. no matter what morgan had done, no one else should punish him but himself. he would even have fought for his sometime chief, were it necessary, against the king or his law, if need be. he was therefore very much disturbed over what he heard. had it been possible he would have warned morgan immediately of his purposed arrest, but he had been detained on the frigate by necessary duties from which he could find no means of escape until too late. he had, however, a high sense of sir henry's courage and address. he hoped and believed that he would not be taken by such men as hawxherst and bradley; but if he were, hornigold made up his mind to rescue him. there was a little islet in the caribbean just below hispaniola, in whose wooded interior still lurked some of the old-time buccaneers, proscribed men, who, from time to time, did pirating in a small way on their own account; just enough to keep their hands in. if the worst came, hornigold, who with his little pinnace had kept in touch with them secretly, could assemble them for the rescue of their old captain. then the former governor, in his power and in their possession, could be disposed of at their leisure and pleasure. all these things had busied the man during the evening, and he sat even now in the midst of the revelry about him, plunged in profound thought. unobserved himself, he had taken account of every man who was present. he knew all the habitués of the port, and enjoyed a wide acquaintance among the seamen whose vessels frequented the harbor. he decided there were then in that room perhaps twenty men upon whom he could depend, proper inducement being offered, for almost any sort of service. among these were five or six superior spirits whom he knew to be tried and true. there was young teach, the singer of the evening, a drunken, dissolute vagabond, who had been discharged from his last ship for insubordination and a quarrelsome attack upon one of his officers, for which he had narrowly escaped hanging as a mutineer. the man was as bold as a lion, though; he could be trusted. there, too, was rock braziliano, a portuguese half-breed, and hobnobbing with him was raveneau de lussan, a frenchman--prime seamen and bold fellows both. further down the table, the huge dutchman, velsers, was nodding stupidly over his rum. these men and a few others were veterans like hornigold himself. they were the best of the lot, but for the most part the assemblage was made up of the sweepings of the town, men who had the willingness to do anything no matter how nefarious it might be, their only deterrent being lack of courage. hornigold's single eye swept over them with a fierce gleam of contempt, yet these were they with whom he must work in case of necessity. one or two others in whom he reposed confidence, men who composed the crew of his own pinnace, he had sent off early in the evening to spanish town to gather what news they could. one of them came in and reported that the squadron of horse which had gone up with the officers to bring back morgan had come back without him and without the officers. the spy's insignificance prevented him from learning why this was, but hope instantly sprang up in hornigold's breast upon receipt of this news. knowing morgan as he did, he was convinced that he had found some means to dispose of the two officers and send away the cavalry. he was not unprepared, therefore, when he saw the tall form of the maroon appearing in the doorway through the smoke. no one else noticed the silent carib's entry, and he stood motionless until hornigold's eye fastened upon him. then by an imperceptible move of his head he indicated a desire to speak with him without the room. the one-eyed nodded slightly in token that he understood, and the maroon vanished as silently as he had come. waiting a few moments, hornigold rose from his seat and began threading his way through the boisterous crowd toward the door. thrusting aside detaining hands and answering rude queries with an old sailor's ready banter, bidding them on no account to cease the festivities because of his departure, and in fact ordering a new draught of rum for all hands, he succeeded in breaking away under cover of the cheers which greeted this announcement. it was pitch dark outside and he stopped a moment, hesitating as to what he should do. he had no doubt but that the maroon had a message for him from his master. but a second had elapsed when he felt a light touch on his shoulder. his hand went instantly to the seaman's hanger at his side and he faced about promptly. a ready man was master hornigold. "it's i, bo's'n," whispered a familiar voice. "you, black dog? where's your master?" "yonder." "let me see him." a tall, slender figure muffled in a heavy riding-coat sat in the stern sheets of a small boat in the deepest shadow of one of the silent and deserted piers. "captain morgan?" whispered hornigold softly, as followed by the maroon he descended the landing stairs leading toward the boat. "'tis you, master hornigold," answered the man, with an accent of relief in his voice, thrusting the pistol back into his belt as he spoke. he, too, was a ready man with his weapons and one not to be caught napping in any emergency. "me it is, sir," answered the boatswain, "and ready to serve my old captain." "you heard the news?" "i heard it on the frigate this afternoon." "why did you not send me warning?" "i had no chance. i'd 'a' done it, sir, if i could have fetched away." "well, all's one. i've laid those two landlubbers by the heels. eh, carib?" "where are they, sir?" "i might make a guess, for i left them bound and the house blazing." "'tis like old times!" "ay! i've not forgot the old tricks." "no, sir. and what's to do now?" "why, the old game once more." "what? you don't mean----" "i do. what else is there left for me? scuttle me, if i don't take it out of the dons! it's their doing. they've had a rest for nigh twenty years. we'll let it slip out quietly among the islands that harry morgan's afloat once more and there's pickings to be had on the spanish main--wine and women and pieces of eight. art with me?" "ay, of course. but we lack a ship." "there's one yonder, man," cried morgan, pointing up the harbor, where the lights of the _mary rose_ twinkled in the blackness. "to be sure the ship is there, but----" "but what?" "we've no force. the old men are gone." "i am here," answered morgan, "and you and black dog. and there are a few others left. teach is new, but will serve; i heard his bull voice roaring out from the tavern. and de lussan and velsers, and the rest. i've kept sight of ye. curse it all, i let you live when i might have hanged you." "you did, captain, you did. you didn't hang everybody--but you didn't spare, either." it would have been better for the captain if it had been lighter and he could have seen the sudden and sharp set of master hornigold's jaws, which, coupled with the fierceness which flamed into his one eye as he hissed out that last sentence, might have warned him that it would be safer to thrust his head into the lion's mouth than altogether to trust himself to his whilom follower. but this escaped him in the darkness. "listen," he said quickly. "this is my plan. in the morning when hawxherst and bradley do not appear, the new governor will send more men. they will find the house burned down. no one saw us come hither. there will be in the ruins the remains of three bodies." "three?" "yes. my lady morgan's." "did you kill her?" "i didn't have to. they'll think that one of them is mine. no hue or cry will be raised and no search made for me. do you arrange that the crew of the _mary rose_ be given liberty for the evening yonder at the blue anchor. they've not been ashore yet, i take it?" "no, but they will go to-morrow." "that's well. meanwhile gather together the bold fellows who have stomach for a cruise and are willing to put their heads through the halter provided there are pieces of eight on the other side, and then we'll take the frigate to-morrow night and away for the spanish main. that will give us a start. we'll pick up what we can along the coast first, then scuttle the ship, cross the isthmus, seize another and have the whole south seas before us--peru, manila, wherever we will." "the king has a long arm." "yes, and other kings have had long arms too, i take it, but they have not caught harry morgan, nor ever shall. come, man, wilt go with me?" "never fear," answered hornigold promptly. "i've been itching for a chance to cut somebody's throat." he did not say it was morgan's throat, but the truth and sincerity in his voice carried conviction to the listening captain. "thou bloody butcher!" he laughed grimly. "there will be plenty of it anon." "where will you lay hid," asked the boatswain, "until to-morrow night?" "i have thought of that," said morgan promptly. "i think the best place will be the cabin of your pinnace. i'll just get aboard, black dog here and i, and put to sea. to-morrow night at this hour we'll come back here again and you will find us here at the wharf." "a good plan, master morgan," cried hornigold, forgetting the title as the scheme unfolded itself to him. "what's o'clock, i wonder?" as he spoke the sound of a bell tapped softly came floating over the quiet water from the _mary rose_. "four bells," answered morgan listening; "at ten of the clock, then, i shall be here." "leave the rest to me, sir," answered hornigold. "i shall. that will be your boat yonder?" "ay. just beyond the point." "is anybody aboard of her?" "no one." "is there rum and water enough for one day?" "plenty. in the locker in the cuddy." "good! come, carib. until to-morrow night, then!" "ay, ay, sir," said hornigold, leaning over the pier and watching the boat fade into a black blur on the water as it drew away toward the pinnace. "he's mine, by heaven, he's mine!" he whispered under his breath as he turned and walked slowly up to the house. yet master hornigold meant to keep faith with his old captain. he was sick and tired of assumed respectability, of honest piloting of ships to the harbor, of drinking with worthy merchantmen or the king's sailors. the itch for the old buccaneering game was hard upon him. to hear the fire crackle and roar through a doomed ship, to lord it over shiploads of terrified men and screaming women, to be sated with carnage and drunk with liquor, to dress in satins and velvets and laces, to let the broad pieces of eight run through his grimy fingers, to throw off restraint and be a free sailor, a gentleman rover, to return to the habits of his earlier days and revel in crime and sin--it was for all this that his soul lusted again. he would betray morgan, yet a flash of his old admiration for the man came into his mind as he licked his lips like a wolf and thought of the days of rapine. there never was such a leader. he had indeed been the terror of the seas. under no one else would there be such prospects for successful piracy. yes, he would do all for him faithfully, up to the point of revenge. morgan's plan was simple and practicable. de lussan, teach, velsers and the rest would fall in with it gladly. there would be enough rakehelly, degraded specimens of humanity, hungry and thirsty, lustful and covetous, in port royal--which was the wickedest and most flourishing city on the american hemisphere at the time--to accompany them and insure success, provided only there would be reward in women and liquor and treasure. he would do it. they would all go a-cruising once more, and then--they would see. he stayed a long time on the wharf, looking out over the water, arranging the details of the scheme outlined by morgan so brilliantly, and it was late when he returned to the parlor of the blue anchor inn. half the company were drunk on the floor under the tables. the rest were singing, or shouting, or cursing, in accordance with their several moods. above the confusion hornigold could hear teach's giant voice still roaring out his reckless refrain; bitter commentary on their indifference it was, too-- "though life now is pleasant and sweet to the sense, we'll be damnably moldy a hundred years hence." "ay," thought the old buccaneer, pausing in the entrance, for the appositeness of the verses impressed even his unreflective soul, "it will be all the same in a hundred years, but we'll have one more good cruise before we are piped down for the long watch in." he chuckled softly and hideously to himself at the fatalistic idea. by his orders, enforced by the vigorous use of seamen's colts, the inn servants at once cleared the room of the vainly protesting revellers. those whose appearance indicated a degree of respectability which promised payment for their accommodation, were put to bed; the common sort were bundled unceremoniously out on the strand before the door and left to sober up as best they might in the soft tropic night. teach, raveneau, and the brazilian were detained for conference with the boatswain. to these worthies, therefore, hornigold unfolded morgan's plan, which they embraced with alacrity, promising each to do his share. velsers was too stupidly drunk to be told anything, but they knew they could count upon him without fail. chapter iii in which sir henry morgan finds himself at the head of a crew once more the next morning, after waiting a reasonable time for a message from the two soldiers at spanish town, lord carlingford, the new governor, who had taken up his residence temporarily at port royal, summoned his attendants, and himself repaired to the seat of government to ascertain why no further report had been received from his officers. great was his astonishment when he found that the residence of the vice-governor had been destroyed by fire during the night. the frightened slaves could tell nothing. morgan and carib had taken care that no one had marked their departure. consequently when the search of the ruins revealed the remains of three bodies, so badly charred as to be unrecognizable, it was naturally inferred at first that they were those of the buccaneer and the two unfortunate officers. it was known among the people of the place, however, that lady morgan had been seriously ill, so ill that she could not have been removed, and there were some who suspected that one of the bodies was hers and that the arch-fiend himself had by some means disposed of the officers and escaped. therefore a hue and cry was raised for him and a strict search instituted by order of the governor, who, after setting affairs in motion, returned to port royal. troops were accordingly ordered out, and even details of surly seamen, growling at being deprived of their accustomed shore liberty, were detailed from the frigate, which happened to be the only war vessel in commission in the harbor. hornigold, raveneau, and one or two of the others known to be former companions of the buccaneer, were closely interrogated, but they stoutly declared they did not know his whereabouts and had seen nothing of him. later in the afternoon it was observed that hornigold's pinnace was not in the harbor. indeed, with cunning adroitness that master mariner himself called attention to the fact, cursing the while his old commander for his alleged theft of the boat, and declaring his willingness to join in the search for him. it was known to the authorities that the execution of the boatswain's brother by morgan had shattered the old intimacy which subsisted between them; consequently his protestations were given credence and suspicion of collusion was diverted from him. lord carlingford finally determined to send the _mary rose_ to sea in an endeavor to overhaul the pinnace, in the hope that the former vice-governor might be found on her, although the chances of success were but faint. the frigate, however, was not provisioned or watered for a cruise, after her long voyage from england. there had been considerable scurvy and other sickness on the ship and she was in no condition to weigh anchor immediately; she would have to be re-supplied and the sick men in her crew replaced by drafts from the shore. besides, in accordance with the invariable custom, the great majority of the men had been given shore leave for that afternoon and evening, and those few who were not on duty were carousing at the blue anchor inn and similar taverns and would be utterly unable to work the ship, should they be called upon to do so, without being given a chance to sober up. this would take time, and lord carlingford upon the representations of his sea officers decided to wait until the morrow before commencing work. one secret of morgan's success was the promptness with which he struck. nobler and better men could have learned a lesson from this old buccaneer, notably the governor. as he could do so, not only personally but through his able lieutenants, hornigold busied himself during the day and the preceding night in enlisting as vicious a gang of depraved ruffians as could be gathered together in what was perhaps the wickedest city in the world. it had been decided after conference between the leaders that there was no place within the confines of port royal itself where so many men could meet without exciting suspicion. he had accordingly appointed a rendezvous for the night across the narrow entrance to the harbor, opposite the fort, under the trees which overshadowed the strand, some distance back from high-water mark. singly or in groups of two or three, the men had gone across in boats after sunset, successfully eluding observation, for the night was moonless and very dark. there was no room, indeed, for suspicion on the part of the authorities, save in the bare fact of the possible escape of morgan; but it had been twenty years since that worthy had gone buccaneering, and, except in the minds of his former companions and participants, much of the character of his exploits had passed out of mind. no special watch was kept, therefore, in fort or town or on the ship. morgan was gone certainly, but nothing was feared from a single proscribed man. there was rum in plenty under the trees on the point, but care was taken by rock braziliano, raveneau, and the others, even including velsers, that no one should drink enough to lose entire control of his faculties or to become obstreperous. just enough was given to make the timid bold, and the hardy reckless. they knew the value of, and on occasion could practise, abstinence, those old buccaneers, and they were determined to keep their men well in hand. no fires were lighted, no smoking permitted. strict silence was enjoined and enforced. it was perhaps ten o'clock before all were assembled. when morning had cleared their brains of the rum they had taken, there had been ferocious opposition on the part of the older men. not that they objected to buccaneering. they were eager for the chance once more, but the memory of morgan's betrayals of his old comrades rankled deep. there were many beside hornigold who had promised themselves the luxury of vengeance upon their old commander. there were none, however, who had so dwelt upon it as the boatswain, nor were there any whose animosity and determination compared to his fierce hatred. he was therefore able, at last, to persuade them into a surly willingness to accept morgan as their captain in this new enterprise. indeed, without him they could do nothing, for there was no one who possessed the ability or experience to lead them save he. the best men of the old stamp were now in the south seas and far away; they had been driven from the caribbean. it was not difficult for hornigold to show them that it must be morgan or no one. their feelings of animosity were, perforce, sunk beneath the surface, although they smouldered still within their breasts. they would go with him, they said. but let him look to himself, they swore threateningly. if he betrayed them again, there were men among them who would kill him as remorselessly as they would stamp on a centipede. if he behaved himself and the expedition on which he was to lead them proved successful, they might forgive him--all but old hornigold. truth to tell, there was no one among them who felt himself so wronged or so badly treated as the one-eyed envenomed sailor. the bulk of the party, which numbered perhaps one hundred men, were simply plain, ordinary thieves, cut-throats, broken-down seamen, land sharks and rascals. not much was to be expected of them. they were not of the stuff of which the old-time buccaneers had been made, but they were the best to be obtained at that time in port royal. even they would not have been so easily assembled had they realized quite what was expected of them. they knew, of course, that they were committing themselves to some nefarious undertaking, but to each recruit had been vouchsafed only enough information to get him to come to the rendezvous--no more. they were a careless, drunken, dissolute lot. by hornigold's orders they were told off in five parties of about twenty each, commanded respectively by himself, velsers, raveneau, the brazilian, and the last by teach, who, though the youngest of the leaders, had a character for daring wickedness that would stop at nothing. with much difficulty the boatswain had succeeded in obtaining five boats, each capable of carrying one band. every one brought his own arms, and in general these men did not lack a sufficiency of weapons. those who were deficient, however, were supplied from a scanty stock which the leaders had managed to procure. all was in readiness, when one of the men who had been stationed on the extreme edge of the beach toward the channel reported the approach of a small boat looking like the pinnace. the wind, fortunately for the enterprise, happened to be blowing fresh out of the harbor and it was necessary for the pinnace to beat up toward the entrance. she showed no lights, but, as she tacked in close to the shore, between the watcher and the lights of the town, he observed her. the boat was handled with consummate skill; she dropped anchor and hauled down her sails noiselessly just abreast the pier which had been appointed the rendezvous by the two men on the night before. as soon as hornigold learned of the approach he took a small boat, leaving velsers in command of the band on shore, and repaired with the other leaders to the wharf on the other side. as the boat approached the wharf it was hailed in a sharp whisper. "who comes?" cried the voice on shore. "hornigold!" answered the boatswain in a low tone, as the boat swept alongside. "so, 'tis you, is it?" cried morgan, attended by the maroon as usual, again putting his pistol back into his belt. "seeing so many of you in the skiff, i feared a trap until you gave the word." "i've brought along raveneau, the brazilian, and young teach," said the boatswain. "welcome, my hearties, all!" said the vice-governor softly. "we're off to the spanish main with a good ship, plenty of liquor beneath the hatches, brave hearts to run her. there will be plenty of pickings meet for any man. are you with me?" "ay, ay, sir!" "we are," answered one and another. the place where they stood was lonely and deserted at that time of night, but hornigold suggested that they immediately repair to the other side, there to perfect their further plans. indeed, they had no plans as yet. there was not head enough among them to concoct the details of the scheme, although no better instruments for an expedition than the chief and those assembled under him could be gathered together. they had waited for morgan. "you speak well," answered the captain. "are all preparations made?" "all we could make without you, captain," replied hornigold as the party re-entered the boat. "how many men have you gathered?" "about five score." "boats?" "five." "will they carry all?" "with a little crowding." "who leads each boat?" "i, one, sir, with your permission; raveneau here, another; the brazilian, the third; young teach, a fourth, and velsers----" "where is he?" "with the rest of the men--the fifth." "good! are they all armed?" "every man has a sword and a pistol at least." "what of the men?" "a poor lot," answered teach, recklessly. "a dastardly crew." "will they fight, think ye?" "curse me, they'll have to fight; we'll make them!" said hornigold. "do they know what's up?" "not exactly," answered raveneau, the frenchman, a man of good birth and gentle manners, but as cruel and ruthless a villain as any that ever cut a throat or scuttled a ship. "have no fear, captain," he continued smoothly. "once we start them, they will have to fight." "did you ever know me to show fear, de lussan?" cried the captain bending forward and staring at the frenchman, his eyes glittering in the darkness like those of a wildcat. "no, captain." "no, nor did any other man," answered morgan, and from where he sat hornigold marked the little dialogue and swore in his heart that this man who boasted so should beg for his life at his hand, with all the beseeching pity of the veriest craven, before he finished with him. but for the present he said nothing. after a short pause, morgan resumed: "have they suspected my escape?" "they have," answered the boatswain. "they found the remains of the three bodies in the burned house this morning. at first they thought one of them was yours, but they decided after a while that one was a woman, and they guessed that you had made away with the officers and escaped. i told them you had stolen my pinnace and got away." "you did, eh?" "yes." "and he swore and cursed you roundly, captain," interposed the brazilian chuckling maliciously. "aye, sir, he swore if he got hands on you he would give you up." morgan turned this time to hornigold. he was by no means sure of his position. he knew the enmity of these men, and he did not know how far their cupidity or their desire to take up the old life once more under such fortunate auspices as would be afforded under his command would restrain them. "master ben hornigold, said ye that?" he queried. "would ye betray me?" his hand stole to his waist and his fingers closed around his pistol grip. "no fear, captain," answered that worthy composedly, sustaining the captain's searching gaze. a braver man never stepped a deck than he. "i did it to divert their attention. you see, they fancied at first that we old sea-dogs might have something to do with your escape, but i undeceived them. they reckoned that you had been hard on us and that we might be hard on ye----" "no more of this, gentlemen, the past is gone. we begin again," cried morgan fiercely. "and mark me, the man who betrays harry morgan will not live many minutes to boast of it! i'd kill him if he sat on the steps of a throne. easy there!" he called out to the oarsmen, assuming the command as by right, while the boat's keel grated on the shingle. "all out now and lead the way. nay, gentlemen, you shall all precede me. carib, here, will bring up the rear. and it may be well for you to keep your weapons in your belts." much impressed, the little party disembarked and walked rapidly toward the place of assemblage, under the trees. morgan and the maroon came last, each of them with a bared sword and cocked pistol. "lads," said hornigold, as they approached the men, "here's your captain, sir henry morgan." "the governor!" cried one and another, in surprise and alarm. the man had been a terror to evildoers too poor to bribe. "nay, men, governor no more," morgan answered promptly. "a free sailor who takes the sea against the spanish dons. we'll go buccaneering as in the old days. these men here," pointing to the group of officers, "can tell you what it means. you have heard tales of the jolly roving life of the brethren-of-the-coast. we'll do a little picking in the caribbean, then over the isthmus, and then down into the south seas. there's wine and women and treasure to be had for the taking. the spaniards are cowards. let them hear that harry morgan is once more on the sea under the jolly roger and they will tremble from darien down to the straits of magellan. it will be fair play and the old shares. who's with me?" "i!" "i!" "i!" broke from the bolder spirits of the crowd, and the rest, catching the contagion, finally joined in the acclaim. "easy," said the captain, "lest we be heard. hornigold, is there liquor?" "plenty, sir." "let each man have a noble draught, then to the boats." "but, captain," spoke up sawkins, one of the boldest recruits, who was not in the secret, "be ye goin' buccaneerin' in boats? whar's the ship?" "i have a ship in the harbor," cried morgan, "well found and provided." "ay, but what ship?" "confusion, sir!" shouted morgan. "begin ye by questioning me? into the boat with your comrades! velsers, de lussan, rock see that the men get into the boats as soon as they have their dram. and hark ye, gentlemen, a word with ye!" calling them apart while the rest were being served. "put the boldest men in the stern sheets with yourselves, the rest at the oars, and do you have your weapons ready. the _mary rose_ lies just within the bar. you, velsers and rock, gain the fo'c'sl from larboard and starboard. you, teach and raveneau, board at the different gangways. hornigold, i'll go in your boat and we'll attend to the cabin. let all be done without noise. no pistols, use the blade. take no prisoners and waste no time. if we gain the deck without difficulty, and i think we can, clap to the hatch covers and we'll cut cable and get under way at once." the men had been embarking in the boats rather reluctantly as he spoke, but presently all was ready. finally hornigold and then morgan with the maroon stepped into the last boat, first making sure there were no stragglers left behind, and morgan gave the command: "shove off!" sawkins, the bold spirit who had spoken before, presumed, in spite of the commander's threat, to open his mouth again as the boats slowly left the beach, rowing through the passage and up the harbor against the ebb just beginning; he pulled the stroke oar in hornigold's boat. "before i go further," he cried, "i want to know what ship we're goin' aboard of." "ay!" came in a subdued roar from the men behind him, who only needed a leader to back out of the enterprise, which, as it threatened to involve fighting, began to seem not quite so much to their taste. "what ship?" "the frigate," answered hornigold shortly. "what! the _mary rose_! the king's ship!" cried the men, ceasing to row. in an instant morgan's pistol was out. his motion was followed by hornigold and the maroon. "row, you dogs!" he cried fiercely. the stroke oarsman hesitated, although the others tried to pick up the stroke. "i give you one minute, then i blow out your brains, pull out the plug in this boat, and we'll all go to hell together," said morgan truculently to the recalcitrant men. "row, for your life's sake!" cried the man behind sawkins, hitting him in the back with the haft of the oar. "it's the king's ship!" "what do we care for the king?" said morgan. "he is the law, and none of us love the law. two-thirds of her crew are drunk, t'other third are ashore or sick. they are unprepared, asleep. there'll be naught but the anchor watch. one sharp blow, and we have the frigate--then away. what fear ye, lads?" by such words as these, but more by the threatening appearance of the weapons pointed from the stern sheets, morgan inspirited his men; and by similar language and threats, the men in the other boats did the same. after rowing a short distance the flotilla separated. those approaching from the farther side of the ship necessarily made a wide détour, for which the others waited, so they would all arrive simultaneously. after a suitable time the order was passed softly to give way again. in perfect silence, broken only by the "cheep" of the oars in the locks, the five boats swept down on the doomed frigate. chapter iv which tells how the "mary rose" frigate changed masters and flags [illustration] the _mary rose_ was a ship with a history. the battle roster of the english navy had borne many of her name. in each instance she had been found in the thickest of the fighting. the present vessel was an old ship, having been built some thirty years before, but she was still stanch and of a model which combined strength with speed. the most conspicuous expedition she had participated in had been a desperate defence of a convoy in the mediterranean against seven sallee rovers, in which, after a hard engagement lasting four hours, the _mary rose_ triumphed decisively without losing a single sail of her convoy. a rude song was made about the action, and the two lines of the ballad, summing up the results, were painted around the wheel: "two we burnt, and two we sank, and two did run away, and one we carried to leghorn roads, to show we'd won the day." the commander of the ship on this memorable and heroic occasion had been knighted on his return to england, and on the accession of james had been sent to jamaica with lord carlingford as vice-governor, to take command of the naval station and supersede morgan. admiral sir john kempthorne was an elderly man at this time, but his spirit was the same that had enabled him to withstand so successfully the overwhelming onslaught of the algerine pirate ships. the english navy, however, was then in a state of painful decay. the famous test act, which excluded james from the naval service while he was duke of york, because he was a roman catholic, had deprived the navy of its most influential and able friend. the greedy rapacity with which charles ii. had devoted the money assigned by the commons for the support of the fleet to his own lustful and extravagant purposes, the favoritism and venality which he allowed in the administration of the admiralty, and the neglect with which he viewed the representations of pepys and others as to the condition of his fleets, had reduced the navy of england, which had won such immortal glory under blake, to the very lowest depth it ever reached. the ships were in bad repair and commanded by landsmen who shirked going to sea; they were ill-found, the wages of the seamen not paid--in short, they presented pictures of demoralization as painful as they were unusual. kempthorne, having been a tried and a successful naval commander in his younger days, had striven, with some success so far as his own ship was concerned, to stem the prevailing tide of ruin, and the _mary rose_ was perhaps one of the best frigates in the service, which, however, was not saying a great deal. he could not, of course, better the character of the crew which had been provided for him, nor could he entirely re-supply the ship, or make good her faulty and deficient equipment, but he did the best he could. under ordinary circumstances he could have given a good account of himself if engaged with even the perfectly appointed ships of the dutch republic, or of the grand monarch himself. indeed, in spite of the horrible degeneracy, the prestige of victory was still, as it has ever been, with england. king james, a successful, even brilliant naval commander in his youth, had decided to rehabilitate the navy with a view to putting it on its old footing, and with that object in view he had sent one of his best admirals across the sea to the important island of jamaica, then the headquarters of the west india squadron. kempthorne had welcomed the duty, and had determined that so far as the station at port royal was concerned he would make it the model one of the colonies, of the kingdom itself for that matter, provided he were sustained by the king as had been promised. lord carlingford, with the zeal of a new appointee, had promised his coöperation. the admiral was seated in the cabin of the frigate that night cogitating upon his plans, when his thoughts were interrupted by the rattle of oars, indicating the arrival of a boat. the sound of the approaching boat came faintly through the open stern windows of the cabin under the high poop-deck. the ship was more or less deserted. the sick men had been put ashore; most of the crew, and the officers as well, had followed them. they would not be back until the morrow, when sir john had orders to get away in pursuit of hornigold's pinnace. with the captain in the cabin, however, was the old master of the ship, a man who had been promoted to that rank after the famous fight with the algerines because of his gallantry in that action. kempthorne was consulting with him about the necessary arrangements before sailing the next day. as the admiral heard the noise made by the oars in the oarlocks he raised his voice, and calling a sentry, for there was half a platoon of soldiers on board who had not yet been allowed liberty (the beginnings of the royal marine of england, by the way), he bade him ascertain if the approaching boat was that containing the governor. it was still early evening, and lord carlingford had announced his intention of sleeping in the ship, for the weather was intensely warm and he thought it might be cooler in the harbor than in the crowded low-lying town of port royal. at the same time the admiral arose, buckled on his sword, and made ready to go on deck to meet lord carlingford, should it prove to be his expected visitor. pausing a moment to say a final word to the master, he was conscious of something striking the ship. before he could formulate the idea that a boat must have been hit in the bends, there were several similar shocks. the old master, who happened to be unarmed, stepped forward. "that will be a boat, sir," he said quickly, "striking against the side of the ship. there's another, and another!" his voice indicated surprise and some apprehension. what could it be? "let us go on deck at once," said kempthorne, stepping forward. as he did so the silence was broken by a wild, terrified cry. a moment after, the sentry on the quarter-deck outside the entrance to the poop cabin fired his piece. the shot was followed by the sound of a fierce blow, and then a heavy fall. a sharp, imperious voice cried quickly: "the ship is ours! waste no time! overboard with him! clap to the hatch covers!" the necessity for concealment outside was apparently at an end. the heavy covers were flung down upon the hatches and secured. the ship was filled with a confused babel of many voices and trampling feet. at the sound of the shot, the admiral and the master sprang to the door, but before they could pass the entrance it was flung violently open, and a man richly dressed after the fashion of jamaica, followed by a tall, savage-looking half-breed, a compound of negro and indian, clad in a gorgeous livery, each with pistol and sword, sprang into the room and forced the two men back. as soon as he could recover himself kempthorne whipped out his sword. he found himself covered, however, as did the master, with a pistol. "throw down your sword!" cried morgan fiercely, "and yield yourselves without quarter." "who are you that ask?" "sir henry morgan." "you bloody villain!" cried kempthorne. "dare you attempt to take the king's ship?" "that for the king!" answered morgan, waving his sword. "who are you?" "sir john kempthorne, admiral and vice-governor of jamaica." "you would fain fill my station, would you, sir?" "i would not descend to the station of a pirate, a robber, a murderer, a----" "s'death, silence!" roared morgan furiously. "the ship is ours! i've a message for the king. wilt carry it?" "i would not insult my royal master by carrying a message from such as you." "you will have it!" shouted morgan, white with rage, lunging forward at him. their blades crossed in an instant, and at the same moment the old master, reckless of what happened, flung himself between the two. there was a roar from carib's pistol, and the old man fell. as kempthorne relaxed his guard slightly in the confusion morgan ran him through. the admiral fell so suddenly that he jerked the blade, buried in his breast, out of the buccaneer's hand. "god--" he gasped, as he lay upon the body of the old sailor, "god--save the--king." "would'st sit in my place, eh?" cried morgan, laughing truculently as he turned on his heel and left the cabin. beneath the hatches, the platoon of soldiers and the men there imprisoned were yelling and making a tremendous racket. they were helpless, however, and could do nothing. the men of the boarding parties were clustered in groups forward and aft and around the closed passageways into the interior of the ship, waiting for the next order. the noise and confusion which had followed the sentry's bold shot had awakened the attention of the people of the town. lights twinkled on the ramparts of the fort, and the long roll of a drum could be heard coming faintly up the harbor against the wind. lord carlingford had just entered his boat to board the ship. there was not a moment to lose. "hornigold, go forward with your men to the forecastle. velsers, come you hither with yours for the after guard. teach, to the fore; raveneau, to the main; and rock, to the mizzenmast. loose sail. lively now. we must get out of this before the fort's awake," cried morgan. [illustration: their blades crossed in an instant.... there was a roar from carib's pistol, and the old man fell.] instantly the shrouds were covered with nimble forms making their way aloft where the wide yard-arms stretched far over the sea. the men were in good spirits. the capture of the ship had been so easy; there had been only the anchor watch and the sentry on deck to deal with, and they had been murdered unsuspecting, although the cabin sentry had killed one of the attacking party and wounded another before he went down. they jumped with alacrity, therefore, to obey their captain's commands. as the ponderous sheets of canvas fell from the yards, the men lay down from aloft, and sheets and halyards were manned, the cable that moored the vessel to the anchor was cut, the ship swung to starboard, the yards were braced in, and she began to slip through the water toward the narrow mouth of the harbor. there were other war vessels in the harbor, but they were all dismantled and laid up in ordinary, so the buccaneers had no pursuit to fear. the guns of the fort commanded the harbor mouth, and under ordinary circumstances would have made it impossible for a ship to enter or leave without permission. the mouth was narrow and dangerous, but the best pilot in the west indies stood forward leaning over the knightheads, conning the ship. raveneau and velsers, than whom no better seamen ever held a spoke, by morgan's orders were stationed at the wheel to steer the frigate. rock and teach distributed the best of the men among the guns of the spar-deck battery on the port side. as was usual, the guns were already charged. there were no loggerheads available, no matches with which to fire them, but morgan instructed those who seemed to have some skill in gunnery, whom he placed in temporary charge of the cannon, how to fire them by snapping their pistols at the touch-holes, which were primed from a powder horn that had been brought by the pirates. the land breeze was fresh and strong, and the _mary rose_ vindicated her claim to be considered a fast sailer. she fairly ripped down the harbor, threading her way through the channel under hornigold's nice pilotage until she came near to the narrow entrance. by morgan's orders each man remained motionless at the place where he had been stationed, and the ship, so far as human noise was concerned, was as still as death. even the soldiers below, finding no attention paid to their cries, had subsided into comparative quiet. the silence was broken only by the creaking of cordage, the dashing of water against the bows, and the groaning of the timbers. ever and anon hornigold's deep voice, crying "larboard" or "starboard" as the case might be, rolled along the deck to the watchful men gripping the wheel. suddenly the old buccaneer cried out sharply: "there's a boat right ahead, sir." "run her down!" answered morgan instantly. "ay, ay! starboard! starboard again! let her go off another half-point. steady! very well dyce. now! meet her! meet her!" the ship swept around slightly and rushed directly at the boat. it was the boat of the governor. instantly wild cries arose from the men on the thwarts. they were stopped by a stern voice. "ahoy, the _mary rose_!" silence. "ahoy, the frigate! what are you doing? where is admiral kempthorne?" at that instant the soldiers beneath the hatches suddenly resumed their commotion, thus apprising the men in the boat that something was sadly wrong. "larboard your helm!" cried a voice from the boat, "or you'll be on us. who's in command? what are you about?" "sir harry morgan!" shouted a voice out of the darkness. "and we mean to run you down." "back water, for god's sake! stern, all!" cried lord carlingford to the paralyzed rowers; but before they could move the looming bow of the frigate was upon them. carlingford had risen in his boat before the collision, and with dauntless courage he shook his bared sword in the darkness toward the ship. "the king will triumph!" he cried. "you can go to hell!" shouted morgan, "with hawxherst and bradley and kempthorne and all who oppose me." a terrible, smashing crash cut short his words, and, amid the ripping, tearing sound of the parting timbers of the overridden boat, and shouts, cries, and appeals for mercy, the _mary rose_ swept on. one or two beneath her forefoot leaped frantically at the bobstays, but they were driven from their holds by savage pike thrusts from hornigold's men. a wild yell of elation broke from the pirates. they were completely possessed by their success now, but morgan stopped the noise in an instant. "silence!" roared the captain. "we are not yet free. back to your stations! stand by the larboard battery!" at that time the entrance to the harbor was very narrow, and the channel swept close under the port royal shore. everybody in the town knew that something had happened on the frigate. the garrison of the fort was out and the guns were loaded and bore fair upon the channel. softly, for they were within earshot distance of the fort, morgan passed the word to train the guns of the battery on the parapet of the fort. he also told off all the men with small arms to line the side, with instructions for them to fire at the port-holes of the fort as they passed, and he charged every one, under pain of death, to keep all fast until he gave the word. hornigold bent all his mind to getting the ship safely out of the harbor. two or three reliable men were stationed in the gangway, whose sole business it was to repeat his commands without fail during the confusion, no matter what happened. they were right in the entrance now, and coming opposite the fort. the men below were still keeping up a great noise, but a hail which came across the water from the rampart was entirely audible, the distance not being more than half pistol shot. "hello, the _mary rose_! hello, the frigate!" "ay, ay! what is it?" "where are you going? where's lord carlingford?" there was no answer. the rapidly moving ship was fairly abreast the fort now. in thirty seconds she would be beyond it. "we have killed the governor and kempthorne, and this is the ship of sir henry morgan, bound for the spanish main on a buccaneering cruise. fire!" a perfect hail of shot at point blank range belched forth from the twenty-four guns of the larboard battery of the onrushing ship. in the surprise and confusion caused by this murderous discharge at short range, the frigate slipped by, and although every gun in the fort, whether it bore or not, was finally discharged by the infuriated soldiery, no serious damage was done to the ship. here and there a man fell. the starboard main topsail sheet was cut, a few ropes parted, but that was all. pouring a perfect hail of musketry and pistol fire upon the surprised garrison, which did execution, the frigate slipped through the channel. before the cannon could be reloaded they were out of range. there before them lay the open sea, bounded to the southward by the rich and unprotected cities of the spanish main. "we're out of the harbor, sir," cried hornigold, coming aft to where morgan stood triumphant on the poop. "that's well!" said the commander. "secure the guns and muster the crew. we'll divide into watches and bear away to the southward." "long live sir henry morgan, king of the buccaneers!" cried a voice out of the darkness, and amid a tremendous roar of cheers the vessel swept away, leaving the lights of port royal twinkling faintly in the distance far behind them. book ii the cruise of the buccaneers and what befel them on the seas chapter v how the "mary rose" overhauled three spanish treasure ships ten days after her departure from port royal the _mary rose_ was tumbling southward before a gentle breeze through the blue and languid seas. much had happened in the interval. in the first place, morgan had organized and drilled the ship's crew relentlessly. with the aid of the five principal adventurers, whom he had constituted his lieutenants, he had brought the motley crowd which he had shipped into a state of comparative efficiency and of entire subjection to his iron will. years of quasi-respectability, of financial position, of autocratic power as vice-governor had modified the ideas of the old buccaneer, and the co-operative principle which had been the mainspring of action as well as tie which produced unity among the brethren-of-the-coast had ceased to be regarded, so far as he was concerned. he took care, however, to be upon fairly amicable terms with the officers in command and the veterans, though he treated the rest of the riff-raff like the dogs they were. they murmured and raged but did not revolt, although it was quite possible that if he pushed them too far, and they found a leader, they might make trouble. in accordance with hornigold's advice, after deliberation between morgan and the leaders, the _mary rose_ had first run up to la vaca island, south of hispaniola, and the number of original marauders had been increased by fifty volunteers, all those, indeed, who could be reached, from the small pirates who made that delectable spot their rendezvous. in addition to those, the crew had also been reënforced largely from those of the unpaid and discontented seamen and soldiers of the frigate who had happened to be under hatches the night of the capture. presented with the choice of instant death or adherence to the band, most of them had accepted the latter alternative, although, to their great credit be it said, not until one or two of the loyal veterans, who had hotly refused to have anything to do with their ruffianly captors, had been forced to walk the plank as an example to the rest should they prove recalcitrant. partly through terror, partly through discontent, partly on account of promises of the great reward awaiting them, speciously urged by morgan himself, for he could talk as well as he could fight, and, most of all, because even at that date it was considered a meritorious act to attack a spaniard or a papist under any circumstances or conditions, especially by persons as ignorant as the class in question, some seventy cast in their lot with the rest. among the two hundred and twenty members of the heterogeneous crew so constituted, were to be found natives of almost every race under the sun, even including one or two spanish renegados, and it would be safe to say that the lowest and meanest representatives of the several races were assembled on that very ship. the officers and men who had been recruited from isla la vaca, as well as the older original members of the crew of the _mary rose_, together with a select few of the remainder, were men of approved courage. the officers, indeed, bore reputations for hardihood and daring not to be surpassed. most of the rest, however, were arrant cowards. as a body the band could not compare, except in leadership, with the former bands of buccaneers who had made themselves and their names a terror to latin civilization in the new world. morgan himself, however, almost made up for all deficiencies. age had not quenched his ardor, diminished his courage, or deprived him of that magnetic quality which had made him an unquestioned leader of men. his eye was as keen, his hand as steady, his soul as reckless, and his skill as high as when he had led the greatest buccaneer fleet that had ever assembled, on the famous panama expedition. everybody on the ship hated him except young teach and the faithful black dog; the old buccaneers because he had betrayed them, the soldiers and sailors of the crew because he had captured their ship and forced them to become his allies, the mean and lowly body of rascals because he kept them ruthlessly under hand. but they all feared him as much as they hated him and they admired him as much as they feared him. so far as he was concerned discipline was absolute. he still seemed to fancy himself the vice-governor and the representative of that king against whom he had taken up arms. he demanded to be treated accordingly. no admiral of the fleet was ever served more promptly and respectfully than he. even his nearest associates were treated with a certain haughtiness, which they bitterly resented and which they would have called in question had the situation been other than it was. truth to tell, influenced by hornigold, they had embarked upon a mad enterprise, and they needed morgan to bring it to a successful conclusion. without him the slender coherence which already existed would fail, and anarchy would be the state upon the ship. there would be nothing left to them but to scatter if they could make an unheeded landing at some convenient place, or be captured, if they could not, with a certainty of being hung forthwith. so long as they remained together, it was certain that morgan would lead them on some successful enterprise and they might get some reward for their risks and crimes. in his safety lay their safety. the buccaneer was entirely aware of this, and therefore counted freely upon the backing of the veterans among the officers and crew. he would take care of the rest. the ship, however, was a floating colony of suspicion, treachery, and hatred. morgan himself never appeared without being loaded with weapons, not for bravado but for use should occasion rise, and his back was always protected by the silent and gigantic maroon, whom the sailors, catching the title from those who had known him of old, referred to with malignant hatred as "black dog." that was a name, indeed, which the taciturn half-breed rather rejoiced in than resented. morgan had been able to awaken love in no hearts except those of young teach, whose feeling was admiration rather than affection, and this half-breed maroon. whether it was from his black african mother or from his fierce red carib father he inherited the quality of devotion was not apparent. devoted he had been and devoted he remained. close association in the narrow confines of the ship with the man who had, as he believed, wronged him, had but intensified hornigold's hatred. the one-eyed found it difficult to dissemble, and took refuge in a reticence which was foreign to his original frank and open character. morgan half suspected the state of affairs in his old boatswain's moiled and evil soul, and he watched him on account of it more closely than the others, but with no great disquiet in his heart. truth to tell, the old pirate was never so happy as in the midst of dangers, imminent and threatening, which would have broken the spirit of a less resolute man. there was one among the officers he was sure of and upon whom he could depend in an emergency, and that was young teach. he had flattered him by unusual marks of kindness, and alone among the officers this fellow did not seem to cherish the rancor and suspicion of the others. he was too young to have experienced a betrayal as had the rest; this was his first venture in actual piracy and he found it marvelously pleasant. the officers, too, were all suspicious of one another. as each one nursed his own private designs he suspected the others of doing likewise--and with reason. but there was as yet little outward friction among them. raveneau, for instance, was most scrupulously polite to the captain and his associates. velsers was too stupid in his cups--and he was generally in them--to do more than growl, and the brazilian had all the capacities of his race for subtle concealment. although the necessary orders for working the ship were obeyed and morgan personally imposed implicit obedience and respect for his commands, no duties other than those required were performed by the men. during the day when not at work or at drill, they drank, smoked, gambled, and fought at pleasure, although, as the captain mercilessly exercised them during long hours at the great guns and with small arms, they did not have any too much leisure for play. during the night they kept watch and watch, of course, but in it all they took no care of the ship, and filth and dirt abounded. if they had anticipated a long cruise things would necessarily have been different, but as they had gone far to the southward now, and might make a landfall at any moment there was no necessity for bothering about mere cleanliness, which, as it is supposed to be next to godliness, was naturally far removed from this band of cut-throats. morgan had not communicated his ultimate purposes to his men as yet, but as he was the only navigator on the ship he was, perforce, allowed to have his own way. breakfast had been served--a meagre breakfast it was, too, for all hands were on short allowance of everything but spirits, on account of the unprovided state of the ship. fortunately for their contentment, there was plenty of rum on board. the men were congregated forward on the forecastle or in the waist, wrangling and arguing as usual. the officers gathered on the quarter-deck, and morgan paced the high raised poop alone, overlooking them, when the lookout suddenly reported three sail in sight. the half-drunken sailor who had been sent aloft at daybreak had kept negligent watch, for almost as soon as he had made his report the ships were observed from the deck of the frigate. the _mary rose_ had the wind on her quarter, her best point of sailing, and she was covered with canvas from her trucks to her decks, from her spritsail yard to her huge mizzen crossjack, a lateen sail. the wind was light, but she was making rapid progress toward the approaching strangers, who, with their larboard tacks aboard, were beating up toward the english. attended by the maroon, morgan, pistol in hand, went forward to the forecastle, kicking his way clear through the sullen, black-browed mass of sailors. he ran a short distance up the weather fore-shrouds and took a long look at the strangers. they all flew the yellow flag of spain. one was a huge galleon, the other two smaller ships, though larger in each instance than the _mary rose_, and all heavily armed. one of the plate ships from porto bello was due in this latitude about this time, and morgan instantly surmised that the galleon was she, and that the two others were spanish frigates to give her safe convoy across the ocean. spain was at peace with all the world at that time, and the two frigates would have been ample to ward off the attack of any of the small piratical craft which had succeeded the buccaneer ships of the caribbean. the spaniards had no idea that such a vulture as morgan was afloat; therefore, although they had sighted the _mary rose_ long before she had seen them because they kept better watch, they came on fearlessly and without hesitation. it was evident to the experienced officers among them that the vessel was an english frigate, and as england was a country with which there was profound peace at the time they apprehended nothing. the position of the approaching ships with reference to one another was somewhat peculiar. the first and smallest frigate was perhaps half a mile ahead of her consorts, who were sailing side by side, a cable's length apart. morgan at once determined to attack them. he knew that he possessed the handiest ship, and he believed that he had discovered a way to master the other three. the two frigates were the most dangerous antagonists. if he could dispose of them the galleon would be at his mercy. he did not hesitate to encounter such odds, and even in the minds of the craven part of the crew one english ship was thought to be good for any three spaniards that ever floated. the interest of the crew had been excited by the approaching strangers, which were rapidly drawing nearer. they ceased their arguments and strife, therefore, and crowded forward, looking alternately from the foreign ships to their own leader, lightly poised on the sheer-poles scanning the enemy. there were plenty of men of sufficient experience among them to pronounce them spanish ships immediately, and they therefore anticipated that work lay before them that morning. presently morgan sprang down upon the forecastle and faced his men. "lads," he said, "those are spanish ships." "ay, ay, sir," came from one another as he paused a moment to let the significance of his announcement sink in. "and," he continued, raising his voice so that it was audible throughout the ship, "the great one will be one of the plate ships homeward bound--but she'll never get there--from porto bello!" a perfect yell of delight drowned his further remarks. the men shrieked and shouted and hurrahed at the joyous announcement, as if all they had to do was to go aboard and take the ships. when the hullabaloo had subsided, morgan continued: "i'm glad to see you take it so bravely, for while there is treasure enough under her hatches to make us all rich, yet we'll not get it without a fight, for yonder are two heavily armed frigates. we'll have to dispose of them before we get at the galleon. but, hearts of oak, i never saw the buccaneer who wasn't worth three or a dozen of the dons, and with a stout ship like this one under my feet and a band of brave hearts like you i wouldn't hesitate to tackle the whole spanish navy. it means a little fighting, but think of the prize!" he cried, playing skilfully upon the cupidity of his men. "some of us will lose the number of our messes, perhaps, before nightfall; but," he continued, making a most singular and effective appeal, "there will be more to divide for each man that is left alive. are you with me?" "to the death!" cried young teach, who had come forward and mingled with the crowd, lifting a naked cutlass as he spoke. his cry was taken up and repeated, first by one and then another until the whole body was yelling frantically to be given a chance to fight the spanish ships. "that's well," said morgan grimly. "master teach, here, will command forward on the fo'c'sl. raveneau and velsers shall attend to the batteries in the waist. i appoint you, hornigold, to look after the movements of the ship. see that the best hands are at the wheel and have sail trimmers ready. my portuguese friend, you may look to the after guns. now to your stations. cast loose and provide! man the larboard battery! see every thing is ready, but hold your fire and keep silence under pain of death! yon frigate over there, we'll strike first. she'll be unprepared and unsuspecting. one good blow ought to dispose of her." as he spoke, the men hurried to their stations. there was no lack of skill on the frigate, and now was seen the value of morgan's constant drilling. the cannon of the ship were cast loose and loaded, loggerheads and matches lighted, small arms distributed and primed, pikes were served out, cutlasses loosened in their sheaths, and such as had armor, still worn in greater or less degree even in that day, donned it, and the ship was full of busy preparation. "we've no flag flying, sir," said hornigold as the men settled down to their stations, grim and ready. "ay," said morgan, "show the english flag. we'll make as much trouble for his gracious majesty, king james, as possible." in a short time the glorious colors of england, which had never waved over so despicable a crew before, rippled out in the freshening breeze. as they were rapidly approaching the spanish ship now, morgan descended from the poop-deck to make a personal inspection of his frigate before beginning action. he found everything to his taste, and passed along the lines of silent men congregated around the guns with words of stern appreciation. the crews of the guns had been constituted with great care. the gun captains in each instance were tried and proved seamen, men as fearless as they were capable. the weaker and the more wretched portion of the band had been so placed that opportunity for showing cowardice would be greatly circumscribed, and the stern command of the captain that the officers and petty officers should instantly shoot any man who flinched from duty was not without effect. he did not hesitate to remind the men, either, that they fought with halters around their necks. as even the craven becomes dangerous when pushed to the wall, he felt they would give a good account of themselves. "hornigold," said morgan, as he stepped up on the quarter-deck again, "i want the frigate to pass as close to windward of that spanish ship as you can bring her without touching. let her not suspect our desire, but whirl into her as we get abreast. don't fall foul of her as you value your life!" "ay, ay, sir," answered that veteran, squinting forward along the jib-boom with his one eye as if measuring the distance, "i'll bring her close enough for you to leap aboard and yet never touch a rope yarn on her." he spoke with the consciousness and pride of his skill. "now, lads," cried morgan, "have everything ready, and when i give the word pour it in on yonder ship. i want to settle her with one broadside. it'll be touch and go, for we've got to dispose of her in an instant. stand by for the word! now, lie down, all, behind the bulwarks and rails. let us make no show of force as we come up. we must not arouse suspicion." the two ships, the _mary rose_ going free, the spanish frigate close hauled on the port tack, were now within hailing distance. as they approached each other the buccaneer could see that the other ship was crowded with men. among her people the flash of sunlight upon iron helms denoted that she carried a company of soldiers. the spaniards were entirely unsuspecting. the men had not gone to their quarters, the guns were still secured; in short, save for the military trappings of the soldiers on board and the tompioned muzzles of her cannon, she was in appearance as peaceful a vessel as sailed the seas. the two ships were near enough now to make conversation possible, and the _mary rose_ was hailed by a tall, richly dressed officer in glistening breastplate and polished steel cap, standing on the forecastle of the other ship. "what ship is that?" he cried in broken english. "this is the frigate _mary rose_." the usual answer to such a hail would have been: "this is his britannic majesty's frigate _mary rose_," but the spaniards suspected nothing as morgan continued, "carrying sir henry morgan, sometime vice-governor of the island of jamaica." "i have the honor to wish the vice-governor a very good morning," answered the spaniard, courteously waving his hand in salutation. "now, hornigold, now!" said morgan in a fierce whisper. the old boatswain sprang himself to the wheel. with his powerful hands he revolved it quickly until it was hard up. the frigate answered it instantly. she swung away toward the spaniard to leeward of her with a suddenness that surprised even her steersman. "and i salute the vice-governor," continued the spanish captain, just as the english ship swept down upon him; and then he cried in sudden alarm and excitement: "have a care, señor! what mean you? you will be aboard of us! hard up with the helm!" as soon as the _mary rose_ had begun to fall off, ay, even before her motion had been perceptible, hornigold had reversed the helm. "flow the head sheets there," he cried, shoving the wheel over spoke by spoke with all the force of his arms. "flatten in aft a little, here! steady! very well dyce. we're right abreast now, captain," he said. almost as quickly as she had fallen off the nimble frigate, beautifully handled, came to the wind again. she was now almost in touch with the other ship. hornigold's seamanship and skill had been magnificent. he had done all that was asked of him and all that he had promised. "ay, ay," answered morgan in triumphant commendation. "handsomely done. i could leap aboard!" the spanish ship was filled with confusion. the captain, with his face black with rage, stood on the forecastle shaking his fist. "this is outrageous, sir!" he shouted. "you have nearly run us down! what do you want?" "i want to return your salute," answered morgan suavely. "up, lads!" he cried. as the men sprang to their feet, he roared out fiercely: "stand by! fire! pour it into them!" the _mary rose_ was almost in contact with the spanish ship, when a perfect tornado of fire burst from her side. every gun in her broadside, and she was a forty-eight gun frigate, was discharged point-blank at the astonished enemy. not waiting to reload the guns, the crew seized the small arms ready charged to hand, and as they slowly swept by poured a withering fire upon the spaniard's crowded decks. out of the flame and smoke the _mary rose_ burst upon the astounded eyes of the officers and men of the two remaining ships. the first frigate was a wreck on the water. some of the pirate guns had been depressed, great holes had been opened by the shot, the masts had been carried away, and the devoted ship was sinking, her decks covered with dead and dying. "we wish you the compliments of the morning, señor," roared morgan, facing aft toward the battered and ruined frigate. "how like you our salute?" but the captain of the spanish vessel lay dead upon his bloody deck, and if any answered the jeering taunt it was drowned by the laughter and cheering of the english crew. they had eliminated the first ship from the game. they had diminished their enemies by a third, and full of confidence they swept down upon the other two. chapter vi in which is related the strange expedient of the captain and how they took the great galleon although they could not comprehend the reason for the vicious attack upon their consort by a ship of a supposedly friendly power, it was evident to the spaniards in the two remaining ships that the english frigate was approaching them with the most sinister and malevolent purpose. one glance at the sinking remains of their ruined and battered consort established that fact in the most obtuse mind. consequently the exultant men on the _mary rose_ could hear the shrill notes of the trumpeters on the two other ships calling their men to arms. [illustration] with a confidence born of success, however, morgan resolutely bore down upon the enemy. even the dastards in his crew had been excited by the ease and success of the first treacherous blow and plucked up courage, believing that their captain's invincible skill, address, and seamanship would carry them safely through the next encounter. the spanish had little warning after all, for the breeze was rapidly freshening, and in what seemed an incredibly short time the english frigate was close at hand. though they worked with a desperate energy they had not entirely completed those preparations required by the shock of battle. as usual, morgan was determined to lose no time. if he could have thrown his vessel upon them out of the fire and smoke of the first broadside he would have gained the victory with scarcely less difficulty than he had seized the first advantage, but that was not to be, and it was with considerable anxiety that he surveyed the crowded decks of the two remaining ships. he had no fear of the armament of either one, but if those spanish soldiers ever got a footing upon his own deck it was probable they could not be dislodged without a tremendous sacrifice of life; and as he gazed over his motley crew he even questioned their ability to contend successfully with such a mass of veterans. he had hoped that the remaining frigate would detach herself from the galleon, in which event the superior handiness and mobility of his own ship, to say nothing of his probable advantage in the way in which his batteries would be fought, would enable him to dispose of her without too much difficulty. then he could with ease place the huge and unwieldy galleon at his mercy. but the two spanish ships stuck close together, too close indeed, morgan thought, for their own safety. they were both on the wind with their larboard tacks aboard, the frigate slightly ahead of and to windward of the galleon, on the side, that is, whence the _mary rose_ was approaching. so far as he could divine it, the spanish plan, if they had formulated any in their hurry, appeared to be for the frigate to engage the _mary rose_, and while she had the latter ship under her battery, the galleon would tack across the english vessel's bows, or stern as might be, rake her, get her between the two ships, run her aboard, and thus effect her ruin. the plan was simple, practicable, and promised easy success, provided the englishman did what was expected of him. morgan was not to be caught napping that way. as he rushed down upon them there came into his head one of the most daring ideas that has ever flashed across a seaman's brain. hastily summoning braziliano he bade him take a dozen of his men, descend to the after magazine, procure two or three barrels of powder from the gunner, and stow them in the cabin under the poop-deck. he charged him to do it as quietly as possible and take only men for the purpose upon whom he could depend. while this was being done young teach was also summoned from the forecastle, his place being taken by old velsers, whose division in the battery was placed under the command of raveneau. there was a whispered colloquy between the chieftain and his young subordinate, after which the latter nodded his head, ran below, and concealed himself in one of the staterooms under the quarter-deck. in a little space the portuguese reappeared with his men and announced that they had completed their task; whereupon they were directed to return to their stations. meanwhile the crew had been recharging the battery and reloading the small arms. morgan addressed to them a few words of hearty approval of their previous actions and predicted an easy victory over the two ships. the spanish captain naturally supposed--and indeed the courses upon which the three ships were sailing if persisted in would have brought about the result--that the _mary rose_ would pass along his larboard side, and the two vessels would engage in the formal manner of the period, yard-arm to yard-arm, until the galleon could get into action and so settle it in the purposed way. he intended, of course, if it could be brought about, to throw the masses of soldiers he was transporting home upon the english decks, and carry the frigate by boarding. again morgan put hornigold in charge of the manoeuvering of the ship, and again that old worthy chose to handle the spokes himself. there was a brief conversation between them, and then the english captain ran forward on the forecastle. the ships were very near now. in a moment or two they would pass each other in parallel courses, though in opposite direction, and their broadsides would bear; but when the _mary rose_ was about a cable's length from the spanish frigate something happened. the astonished don heard a sharp command ring out from the approaching english ship, after which she made a wide sweep and came driving straight at him at a furious speed. the english captain intended to run him down! here was to be no passage along his broadside. the other was upon him! the cutwater of the onrushing ship loomed up before him tremendously. instantly all was confusion on the spanish ship! the steersman lost his head, and without orders put his helm up sharply; some one cut the sheet of the after-sail on the huge lateen yard, and the frigate went whirling around on her heel like a top, in a violent and fatal, as well as vain, effort to get out of the road. it was a most foolish manoeuvre, for close at hand on the lee side of her the galleon came lumbering along. her captain, too, had seen the peril, and had elected to meet it by tacking under his consort's stern. but he was too near, and the other ship fell off and was swept to leeward too rapidly. his own ship, cumbersome and unwieldy, as they always were, was slow in answering the helm. the frigate and galleon came together with a terrific crash. the shock carried away the foretopmast of the frigate, which fell across the head yards of the galleon. the two ships were instantly locked together. they swung drifting and helpless in the tossing waters. morgan had counted upon this very catastrophe. a twist of the helm, a touch of the braces, and the prow of the _mary rose_ swung to windward. as her batteries bore she hurled their messengers of death into the crowded masses on the spanish ships. although dismayed by the collision, the gunners on the frigate made a spirited reply with a discharge which at such close range did much execution. unfortunately for her, the _mary rose_ had rushed so close to the two entangled ships that it was impossible for her to escape hitting them. the english captain would have given anything if he could have gone free of the mass, for he could have passed under the stern of the two helpless ships, raked them, and probably would have had them at his mercy; but his dash at them had been an earnest one, and in order to carry out his plan successfully he had been forced to throw his ship right upon them. therefore, though the helm was shifted and the braces hauled in an effort to get clear, and though the ship under morgan's conning and hornigold's steering was handled as few ships have ever been handled, and though it was one of the speediest and most weatherly of vessels, they could not entirely swing her clear. the stern of the frigate crashed against the stern of the nearest spanish ship drifting frantically to leeward. the spanish captain, mortified and humiliated beyond expression by the mishap, instantly realized that this contact presented them with a possibility of retrieving themselves. before the ships could be separated, grappling irons were thrown, and in a second the three were locked in a close embrace. morgan had anticipated this situation also, although he had hoped to avoid it, and had prepared for it. as the two ships became fast the high poop and rail of the spaniard were black with iron-capped men. they swarmed over on the lower poop and quarter-deck of the _mary rose_ in a dense mass. fortunately, the small arms on both sides had been discharged a moment before and there had been no time to reload. the remainder of the engagement to all intents and purposes would be fought with the cold steel. morgan had gained an advantage in throwing the two ships into collision, but he appeared to have lost it again because he had been unable to clear the wrecks himself. the advantage was now with the spaniards, whose force outnumbered his own two or three to one. surprising as it was to the old buccaneers and the bolder spirits among his crew, whose blood was up sufficiently to enable them to long for the onset, morgan had run to the waist of the ship when he saw the inevitable collision and had called all hands from the poop and quarter. the _mary rose_ was provided with an elevated quarter-deck and above that a high poop. massing his men in the gangways just forward of the mainmast and on the forecastle itself, with the hardiest spirits in the front line and morgan himself in advance of all sword in hand, the two parties contemplated each other for a little space before joining in the onset. the poop and quarter-deck were crowded so thick with spanish soldiers and sailors that room could scarcely be found for the increasing procession, for, anxious to be in at the death, the men of the galleon clinging to the frigate ran across and joined their comrades. here were trained and veteran soldiers in overwhelming numbers, with the advantage of position in that they fought from above down, to oppose which morgan had his motley crew behind him. "yield, you dastardly villain!" shouted the captain of the spanish frigate, who was in the fore of his men. "shall i have good quarter?" cried morgan. a low growl ran through the ranks of the buccaneers at this question. yet the rapscallions among the crew back of him instantly took up the cry. "quarter! quarter! we surrender! we strike! for heaven's sake----" "silence!" roared morgan--an order which was enforced by the officers and veterans by fierce blows with pistol butts, hilts of swords, and even naked fists. "i would hear the answer of the spanish captain." "we give no quarter to pirates and murderers," the other shouted. "that's what i thought," said morgan triumphantly, and as he spoke he drew from his pocket a silver whistle like a boatswain's call. he blew it shrilly before the wondering men. at that instant teach, followed by the few men who had remained below in the powder division, came running up to morgan from the hatchway between the two forces. "is't done?" cried the captain. "ay, sir. in another----" "forward, gentlemen!" shouted the spanish captain, dropping from the quarter-deck to the main-deck. "god and st. jago! have at them!" before he had taken two steps the terrific roar of a deafening explosion came to the startled buccaneers out of the blast of flame and smoke, in the midst of which could be heard shrieks and groans of the most terrible anguish. teach had connected the powder with the fuse, and when he had heard the sound of morgan's whistle, the agreed signal, he had ignited it and blown up the stern of the frigate. the spaniards were hurled in every direction. so powerful was the concussion that the front ranks of the buccaneers were also thrown down by it. morgan happened to fall by the side of the spanish captain, and the latter, though badly wounded, with determined and heroic valor raised himself on his arm and strove to kill the buccaneer. but the faithful carib, who had reserved one charged pistol by his master's command for such an emergency, shot him dead. morgan struggled to his feet and looked at the scene. some of his men did not rise with the others, for they had been killed by the falling splinters and bits of iron. the whole stern of the _mary rose_ was gone. there wasn't a spaniard left before them. a few figures shrieking vainly for help, clutching at floating pieces of timber, might be seen struggling in the sea. the spanish frigate had a great hole in the port side of her after-works. she was on fire. the three ships were rocking as if in a hurricane. panic filled the minds of the greater part of the buccaneers at this tremendous catastrophe. had morgan to save himself ruined his own ship? they were appalled by the terrific expedient of their captain. wild cries and imprecations burst forth. "the ship is sinking!" "we are lost!" "silence!" shouted morgan, again and again. "the ship is sinking, but our ship is there. let those who love life follow me." he sprang at the burning rail of the spanish frigate. black dog was at his heels, ben hornigold followed hard upon, teach was on the other side. from the waist raveneau and the brazilian strove to inspire the men. old velsers from the forecastle drove them forward as quickly as he could. presently they recovered their courage in some measure, for the fighting force of the enemy had disappeared. they had lost a ship, but there were two other ships before them. they swarmed over the rail with cheers and cries. there was little or no resistance. the men of the frigate were stunned into helplessness by the explosion, although the captain of the galleon rallied a few men and fought until they were all cut down, and the two ships were taken by storm. they had scarcely gained the deck of the galleon before the remains of the _mary rose_ sank beneath the sea, the wounded upon the decks vainly crying for succor. by this time the weather side of the remaining spanish ship was a mass of flame and there was imminent danger that the fire would be communicated to the galleon. giving his men time for nothing, morgan set to work furiously to extricate himself. axes and hatchets were plied and all the skill and seamanship of the conquerors brought into play. finally they succeeded in getting clear and working away from the burning frigate. morgan at once put the galleon before the wind, and when he had drawn away a short distance, hove to the ship to take account of the damage before determining his future course. far back on the ocean and low in the water drifted the sinking remains of the first spanish frigate. near at hand was the hulk of the second ship, now a blazing furnace. the first was filled with living men, many of them desperately wounded. no attention was paid to them by the buccaneers. they cried for mercy unheeded. anyway their suspense would soon be over. indeed, the first ship sank and the second blew up with a fearful explosion a short time after they got away. a brief inspection showed that the galleon had suffered little or no damage that could not be repaired easily at sea. taking account of his men, morgan found that about twenty were missing. taking no care for them nor for the two ships he had fought so splendidly, pirate though he was, he clapped sail on the galleon and bore away to the southward. chapter vii wherein bartholomew sawkins mutinied against his captain and what befel him on that account [illustration] the _almirante recalde_, for such was the name of the galleon, was easily and speedily repaired by the skilled seamen of the _mary rose_ under such leadership and direction as the experience of morgan and the officers afforded. by the beginning of the first dog-watch even a critical inspection would scarcely have shown that she had been in action. with the wise forethought of a seaman, morgan had subordinated every other duty to the task of making the vessel fit for any danger of the sea, and he had deferred any careful examination of her cargo until everything had been put shipshape again; although by his hurried questioning of the surviving officers he had learned that the _almirante recalde_ was indeed loaded with treasure of peru, which had been received by her _via_ the isthmus of panama for transportation to spain. on board her were several priests returning to spain headed by one fra antonio de las casas, together with a band of nuns under the direction of an aged abbess, sister maria christina. in the indiscriminate fury of the assault one or two of the priests had been killed, but so soon as the ship had been fully taken possession of the lives of the surviving clerics and the lives of the good sisters had been spared by morgan's express command. these unfortunate women had been forced into the great cabin, where they were guarded by men in whom confidence could be placed. the priests were allowed to minister to their dying compatriots so long as they kept out of the way of the sailors. no feeling of pity or compassion induced morgan to withhold the women from his crew. he was a man of prudent foresight and he preserved them for a purpose, a purpose in which the priests were included. in the hold of the ship nearly one hundred and fifty wretched prisoners were discovered. they were the crew of the buccaneer ship _daring_, which had been commanded by a famous adventurer named ringrose, who had been captured by a spanish squadron after a desperate defense off the port of callao, peru. they were being transported to spain, where they had expected summary punishment for their iniquities. no attention whatever had been paid to their protests that they were englishmen, and indeed the statement was hardly true for at least half of them belonged to other nations. in the long passage from callao to the isthmus and thence through the caribbean they had been kept rigorously under hatches. close confinement for many days and enforced subsistence upon a scanty and inadequate diet had caused many to die and impaired the health of the survivors. when the hatch covers were opened, the chains unshackled and the miserable wretches brought on deck, their condition moved even some of the buccaneers to pity. the galleon was generously provided for her long cruise across the ocean, and the released prisoners, by morgan's orders, were liberally treated. no work was required of them; they were allowed to wander about the decks at pleasure, refreshed by the open air, the first good meal they had enjoyed in several months, and by a generous allowance of spirits. as soon as they learned the object of the cruise, without exception they indicated their desire to place themselves under the command of morgan. ringrose, their captain, had been killed, and they were without a leader, which was fortunate in that it avoided the complications of divided command. fortunate, that is, for ringrose, for morgan would have brooked no rival on such an expedition. as soon as it could be done, a more careful inspection and calculation satisfied the buccaneer of the immense value of his prize. the lading of the galleon, consisting principally of silver bullion, was probably worth not far from a million spanish dollars--pieces of eight! this divided among the one hundred and eighty survivors of the original crew meant affluence for even the meanest cabin boy. it was wealth such as they had not even dreamed of. it was a prize the value of which had scarcely ever been paralleled. they were assembled forward of the quarter-deck when the announcement was made. when they understood the news the men became drunk with joy. it would seem as if they had been suddenly stricken mad. some of them stared in paralyzed silence, others broke into frantic cheers and yells, some reeled and shuddered like drunken men. the one person who preserved his imperturbable calmness was morgan himself. the gratitude of these men toward him was overwhelming. even those who had good cause to hate him forgot for the time being their animosity--all except hornigold, whose hatred was beyond all price. under his leadership they had achieved such a triumph as had scarcely ever befallen them in the palmiest days of their career, and with little or no loss they had been put in possession of a prodigious treasure. they crowded about him presently with enthusiastic cheers of affection and extravagant vows of loving service. all, that is, except hornigold, whose sense of injury, whose thirst for vengeance, was so deep that all the treasure of potosi itself would not have abated one jot or one tittle of it. the general joy, however, was not shared by the rescued buccaneers. although they had but a few hours before despaired of life in the loathsome depths of the vile hold, and they had been properly grateful for the sudden and unexpected release which had given them their liberty and saved them from the gibbet, yet it was not in any human man, especially a buccaneer, to view with equanimity the distribution--or the proposed distribution--of so vast a treasure and feel that he could not share in it. the fresh air and the food and drink had already done much for those hardy ruffians. they were beginning to regain, if not all their strength, at least some of their courage and assurance. they congregated in little groups here and there among morgan's original men and stared with lowering brows and flushed faces at the frantic revel in which they could not participate. not even the cask of rum which morgan ordered broached to celebrate the capture, and of which all hands partook with indiscriminate voracity, could bring joy to their hearts. after matters had quieted down somewhat--and during this time the galleon had been mainly left to navigate herself--morgan deemed it a suitable occasion to announce his ultimate designs to the men. "gentlemen, shipmates, and bold hearts all," he cried, waving his hand for silence, "we have captured the richest prize probably that floats on the ocean. there are pieces of eight and silver bullion enough beneath the hatches, as i have told you, to make us rich for life, to say nothing of the gold, jewels, spices, and whatnot, besides----" he was interrupted by another yell of appreciation. "but, men," he continued, "i hardly know what to do with it." "give it to us," roared a voice, which was greeted with uproarious laughter, "we'll make away with it." morgan marked down with his eye the man who had spoken and went on. "the ports of his majesty, the king of england, will be closed to us so soon as our capture of the _mary rose_ is noted. england is at peace with the world. there is not a french or spanish port that would give us a haven. if we appeared anywhere in european waters with this galleon we would be taken and hanged. now, what's to be done?" "run the ship ashore on the new england coast," cried the man who had spoken before. "divide the treasure. burn the ship and scatter. let every man look to his own share and his own neck." "a plan, a plan!" "ay, that'll be the way of it!" "sawkins is right!" "to the new england shore! ben hornigold will pilot the ship!" burst in confused clamor from the crew to whom the plan appealed. "by heaven, no!" shouted morgan. "that's well enough for you, not for me. i'm a marked man. you can disappear. i should be taken, and hornigold and raveneau and the rest. it won't do. we must stay by the ship." "and what then?" "keep to the original plan. we'll sail this ship down to the spanish main and capture a town, divide our treasure, make our way overland to the pacific, where we'll find another ship, and then away to the south seas! great as is our booty, there is still more to be had there for the taking. we'll be free to go where we please with the whole south american coast at hand. there are islands, tropic islands, there, where it's always summer. they are ours for the choosing. we can establish ourselves there. we'll found a community, with every man a law for himself. we'll----" but the recital of this utopian dream was rudely interrupted. "nay, master," cried sawkins, who had done most of the talking from among the crew, "we go no farther." he was confident that he had the backing of the men, and in that confidence grew bold with reckless temerity. flushed by the victory of the morning, the rum he had imbibed, intoxicated by the thought of the treasure which was to be shared, the man went on impudently: "no, sir harry morgan, we've decided to follow our latest plan. we'll work this ship up to the new england coast and wreck her there. there are plenty of spots where she can be cast away safely and none to know it. we'll obey you there and no further. we've got enough treasure under hatches to satisfy any reasonable man. we're not afeared o' the king if you are." "you fool!" thundered morgan. "you will be hanged as soon as your part in the adventure is known." "and who is to make it known, pray? as you said, we are poor ignorant men. it's nothing to us if you are marked, and you, and you," he continued, stepping forward and pointing successively at morgan and the little band of officers who surrounded him. "a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, we'd have you understand, and we're content with what we've got. we don't take no stock in them islands of yours. we can get all the women we want, and of our own kind without crossing the isthmus. we don't want no further cruisin'. there's no need for us to land on the spanish main. we've made up our minds to 'bout ship and bear away to the northward. am i right, mates?" "ay, ay, right you are!" roared the men surging aft. "you mutinous hound!" yelled morgan, leaning forward in a perfect fury of rage, and his passion was something appalling to look upon. hornigold clutched at the helm, which had been deserted by the seamen detailed to it during the course of the hot debate. the old man cast one long, anxious glance to windward where a black squall was apparently brewing. but he said nothing. the argument was between morgan and his crew, there was no need for him to interfere. teach, raveneau, velsers, and the officers drew their pistols and bared their swords, but most of the crew were also armed, and if it came to a trial of strength the cabin gang was so overwhelmingly outnumbered that it would have been futile to inaugurate a contest. morgan, however, was frantic with rage. to be braved by a member of his crew, to have his plans balked by any man, and to be openly insulted in this manner! he did not hesitate a second. he rushed at master bartholomew sawkins, and, brave man as that sailor was, he fairly quailed before the terrific incarnation of passionate fury his captain presented. the rest of the crew gave back before the furious onset of sir henry. "you dog!" he screamed, and before the other realized his intention he struck him a fearful blow in the face with his naked fist. always a man of unusual strength, his rage had bestowed upon him a herculean force. he seized the dazed man by the throat and waist belt ere he fell to the deck from the force of the blow, and lifting him up literally pitched him overboard. before the crew had recovered from their astonishment and terror at this bold action, the buccaneer officers closed behind their captain, each covering the front ranks of the men with a pistol. at the same instant the other men, ringrose's crew, came shoving through the crowd, snatching such arms as they could in the passage, although most of them had to be satisfied with belaying pins. "we're with you, captain morgan," cried one of their number. "we've had no treasure, and it seems we're not to have a share in this either. we've been in the south seas," continued the speaker, a man named l'ollonois, noted for his cruelty, rapacity, and success, "and the captain speaks truly. there are all that can delight brave men and a race of cowards to defend them. what's this treasure? it is great, but there are other things we want--wine and women!" the man who had been thrown overboard had shrieked for help as he fell. the splash he had made as he struck the water had been followed by another. a spanish priest standing by the rail had seized a grating and thrown it to the man. morgan took in the situation in a glance. "who threw that grating?" he cried. "i, señor," composedly answered the priest, who understood english. morgan instantly snatched a pistol from de lussan's hand and shot the man dead. "i allow no one," he shouted, "to interfere between me and the discipline of my men! you speak well, l'ollonois. and for you, hounds!" he roared, clubbing the smoking pistol and stepping toward the huddled, frightened men, "get back to your duties unless you wish instant death! scuttle me, if i don't blow up the galleon unless you immediately obey! bear a hand there! if you hesitate--fire on them!" he cried to his officers, but the men in the front did not linger. they broke away from his presence so vehemently that they fell over one another in the gangways. [illustration: morgan instantly snatched a pistol from de lussan's hand and shot the man dead.] "don't fire!" they cried in terror. "we'll go back to duty." morgan was completely master of the situation. "i am to be obeyed," he cried, "implicitly, without question, without hesitation!" "ay, ay!" "we will, we will!" "that's well. heave that carrion overboard," kicking the body of the priest. "now we'll go back and pick up sawkins," he continued. "ready about, station for stays!" "look you, captain morgan," cried hornigold, pointing to leeward. "the squall! 'twill be soon on us. we'd best reduce sail and run for it." "nay," said morgan, "i'll allow not even a storm to interfere with my plans. flow the head sheets there! hard down with the helm! aft, here some of you, and man the quarter boat. i said i'd pick him up, and picked up he shall be, in spite of hell!" the ship, like all spanish ships, was unhandy and a poor sailor. morgan, however, got all out of her that mortal man could get. with nice seamanship he threw her up into the wind, hove her to, and dropped a boat overboard. teach had volunteered for the perilous command of her and the best men on the ship were at the oars. sawkins had managed to catch the grating and was clinging feebly when the boat swept down upon him. they dragged him aboard and then turned to the ship. the sinister squall was rushing down upon them from the black horizon with terrific velocity. the men bent their backs and strained at the oars as never before. it did not seem possible that they could beat the wind. the men on the ship beseeched morgan to fill away and abandon their comrades. "no!" he cried. "i sent them there and i'll wait for them if i sink the ship!" urged by young teach to exertion superhuman, the boat actually shot under the quarter of the galleon before the squall broke. the tackles were hooked on and she was run up to the davits with all her crew aboard. "up with the helm!" cried morgan the instant the boat was alongside. "swing the mainyard and get the canvas off her. aloft, topmen, settle away the halliards! clew down! lively, now!" and as the ship slowly paid off and gathered away the white squall broke upon them. the sea was a-smother with mist and rain. the wind whipped through the shrouds and rigging, but everything held. taking a great bone in her teeth the old _almirante recalde_ heeled far over to leeward and ripped through the water to the southward at such a pace as she had never made before. on the quarter-deck a drenched, shivering, and sobbing figure knelt at morgan's feet and kissed his hand. "wilt obey me in the future?" cried the captain to the repentant man. "'fore god, i will, sir," answered sawkins. "that's well," said the old buccaneer. "take him forward, men, and let him have all the rum he wants to take off the chill of his wetting." "you stood by me that time, sir henry," cried young teach, who had been told of morgan's refusal to fill away, "and, by heaven, i'll stand by you in your need!" "good. i'll remember that," answered morgan, glad to have made at least one friend among all he commanded. "what's our course now, captain?" asked hornigold as soon as the incident was over. "sou'west by west-half-west," answered morgan, who had taken an observation that noon, glancing in the binnacle as he spoke. "and that will fetch us where?" asked the old man, who was charged with the duty of the practical sailing of the ship. "to la guayra and venezuela." "oho!" said the old boatswain, "st. jago de leon, caracas, t'other side of the mountains will be our prize?" "ay," answered morgan. "'tis a rich place and has been unpillaged for a hundred years." he turned on his heel and walked away. he vouchsafed no further information and there was no way for master ben hornigold to learn that the object that drew morgan to la guayra and st. jago was not plunder but the pearl of caracas. chapter viii how they strove to club-haul the galleon and failed to save her on the coast of caracas two days later they made a landfall off the terrific coast of caracas, where the tree-clad mountains soar into the clouds abruptly from the level of the sea, where the surf beats without intermission even in the most peaceful weather upon the narrow strip of white sand which separates the blue waters of the caribbean from the massive cliffs that tower above them. in the intervening time the south sea buccaneers had picked up wonderfully. these men, allured by the hope of further plunder under a captain who had been so signally successful in the past and in the present, constituted a most formidable auxiliary to morgan's original crew. indeed, with the exception of the old hands they were the best of the lot. l'ollonois had been admitted among the officers on a suitable footing, and there was little or no friction among the crews. they were getting hammered into shape, too, under morgan's hard drilling, and it was a vastly more dangerous body of men than the drunken gang who had sailed away from jamaica. though not the equal of the former buccaneering bands who had performed in their nefarious careers unheard of prodigies of valor and courage, they were still not to be despised. had it been known on the spanish main that such a body was afloat there would have been a thrill of terror throughout the south american continent, for there were many who could remember with the vividness of eye-witnesses and participants the career of crime and horror which the old buccaneers had inaugurated. like a politic captain, morgan had done his best to get the men whom he had subdued by his intrepid courage and consummate address into good humor. rum and spirits were served liberally, work was light, in fact none except the necessary seaman's duties were required of the men, although an hour or two every day was employed in hard drill with swords, small arms, and great guns. in martial exercises the veterans were perfect, and they assiduously endeavored to impart their knowledge to the rest. it was morgan's plan to run boldly into la guayra under the spanish flag. no one could possibly take the _almirante recalde_ for anything but a spanish ship. there was no reason for suspecting the presence of an enemy, for spain had none in these seas. if there were other ships in the roadstead, for the harbor of la guayra was really nothing more than an open road, the buccaneer could easily dispose of them in their unprepared condition. indeed, morgan rather hoped that there might be others, for, after he captured them, he would have a greater force of guns to train upon the forts of the town, which he expected to take without much difficulty, and then be governed in his manoeuvres toward caracas by circumstances as they arose. two days after the capture of the galleon, then, with the wind fresh from the northeast, on a gray, threatening, stormy morning, she was running to the westward along the shore. a few hours at their present speed would bring them opposite la guayra, whose location at the foot of the mighty la silla of caracas was even then discernible. morgan could see that there were two or three other vessels opposite the town straining at their anchors in the heavy sea. every preparation for action had been made in good time and the guns had been loaded. the sea lashings had been cast off, although the gun-tackles were carefully secured, for the wind was blowing fresher and the sea running heavier every hour. the men were armed to the teeth. there happened to be a goodly supply of arms on the spanish ship in addition to those the buccaneers had brought with them, which were all distributed. many a steel cap destined for some proud spanish hidalgo's head now covered the cranium of some rude ruffian whom the former would have despised as beneath his feet. everything was propitious for their enterprise but the weather. the veterans who were familiar with local conditions in the caribbean studied the northeastern skies with gloomy dissatisfaction. the wind was blowing dead inshore, and as the struck bells denoted the passing hours, with each half-hourly period it grew appreciably stronger. if it continued to blow, or if, as it was almost certain, the strength of the wind increased, it would be impossible without jeopardizing the ship to come to anchor in the exposed roadstead. they would have to run for it. nay, more, they would have to beat out to sea against it, for the coast-line beyond la guayra turned rapidly to the northward. morgan was a bold and skilful mariner, and he held his course parallel to the land much longer than was prudent. he was loath, indeed, to abandon even temporarily a design upon which he had determined, and as he had rapidly run down his southing in this brief cruise his determination had been quickened by the thought of his growing nearness to the pearl of caracas, until for the moment love--or what he called love--had almost made him forget the treasure in the ship beneath his feet. for the pearl of caracas was a woman. mercedes de lara, daughter of the viceroy of venezuela, on her way home from spain where she had been at school, to join her father, the count alvaro de lara in the vice-regal palace at st. jago de leon, sometimes called the city of caracas, in the fair valley on the farther side of those towering tree-clad mountains--the cordilleras of the shore--had touched at jamaica. there she had been received with due honor, as became the daughter of so prominent a personage, by the vice-governor and his wretched wife. morgan's heart had been inflamed by the dark, passionate beauty of the spanish maiden. it was only by a severe restraint enjoined upon himself by his position that he had refrained from abusing the hospitality he extended, by seizing her in the old buccaneer fashion. the impression she had made upon him had been lasting, and when he found himself alone, an outlaw, all his dreams of the future centered about his woman. he would carry out the plans which he had outlined to his men, but the pearl of caracas, for so donna mercedes was called, must accompany him to the south seas to be the island queen of that buccaneer empire of which he was to be the founder. that donna mercedes might object to this proposition; that she might love another man, might even be married by this time, counted for nothing in morgan's plans. he had taken what he wanted by dint of his iron will and the strength of his right arm in the past and he should continue the process in the future. if the hand of man could not turn him, certainly the appeal of woman would avail nothing. consequently he was most reluctant that morning, for his passion had increased with each o'er-run league of sea, to bear away from la guayra, which was the port of entry for caracas; but even his ardent spirit was at last convinced of the necessity. it was blowing a gale now and they were so near the shore, although some distance to the eastward of the town, that they could see the surf breaking with tremendous force upon the strip of sand. the officers and older men had observed the course of the ship with growing concern, but no one had ventured to remonstrate with morgan until old ben hornigold as a privileged character finally summoned his courage and approached him. "mark yon shore, captain morgan," he said, and when he made up his mind he spoke boldly. "the wind freshens. we're frightfully near. should it come on to blow we could not save the ship. you know how unseamanly these spanish hulks are." "right you are, hornigold," answered morgan, yet frowning heavily. "curse this wind! we must claw off, i suppose." "ay, and at once," cried hornigold. "see, the wind shifts already! it blows straight from the north now." "hands by the braces there!" shouted morgan, following with apprehension the outstretched finger of the old boatswain. "ease down the helm. brace up. lively, lads!" in a few moments the great ship, her yards braced sharply up, was headed out to seaward on the starboard tack. the wind was now blowing a whole gale and the masts of the ship were bending like whips. "we'll have to get sail off her, i'm thinking, hornigold," said morgan. "ay, ay, sir, and quick!" "aloft!" yelled morgan, "and take in the to'gallant s'l's. close reef the tops'l's and double reef the courses then." the shaking shrouds were soon covered with masses of men, and as the ship was exceedingly well handled the canvas was promptly snugged down by the eager crew. hornigold with young teach to assist him went to the helm. morgan gave his personal attention to the manoeuvering of the ship, and the other officers stationed themselves where they could best promote and direct the efforts of the seamen. thus during the long morning they endeavored to claw off the lee shore. morgan luffed the ship through the heavy squalls which rose to the violence of a hurricane, with consummate skill. absolutely fearless, a master of his profession, he did all with that ship that mortal man could have done, yet their situation became more and more precarious. they had long since passed la guayra. they had had a fleeting glimpse of the shipping in the harbor driving helplessly on shore as they dashed by under the gray clouds which had overspread the sea. that town was now hidden from them by a bend of the coast, and they found themselves in a curious bight of land, extending far into the ocean in front of them. the mountains here did not so nearly approach the water-line, and from the look of the place there appeared to be a shoal projecting some distance into the ocean from the point ahead. some of the buccaneers who knew these waters confirmed the indications by asserting the existence of the shoal. in spite of all that morgan could do it was quite evident that they could not weather the shoal on their present tack. there was not sea-room to wear and bear up on the other tack. the vessel, in fact, like all ships in those days and especially spanish galleons, had a tendency to go to leeward like a barrel, and only morgan's resourceful seamanship had saved them from the fatal embraces of the shore long since. the canvas she was carrying was more than she could legitimately bear in such a hurricane. if there had been sea-room morgan would have stripped her to bare poles long since, but under the circumstances it was necessary for him to retain full control and direction of the ship; so, although he reduced sail to the lowest point, he still spread a little canvas. the men were filled with apprehension, not only for their lives but, such was their covetousness, for the treasure they had captured, for they stood about a hundred chances to one of losing the ship. each squall that swept down upon them was harder than the one before. each time the vessel almost went over on her beam ends, for morgan would not luff until the last moment, since each time that he did so and lost way temporarily he found himself driven bodily nearer the land. the men would have mutinied had it not been patent to the most stupid mind that their only salvation lay in morgan. never had that despicable villain appeared to better advantage than when he stood on the weather quarter overlooking the ship, his long gray hair blown out in the wind, fighting against a foe whose strength was not to be measured by the mind of man, for his life and his ship. hornigold and teach, grasping the wheel assisted by two of the ablest seamen, were steering the ship with exquisite precision. sweat poured from their brows at the violence of the labor required to control the massive helm. the men lay to windward on the deck, or grouped in clusters around the masts, or hung to the life lines which had been passed in every direction. at morgan's side stood velsers and raveneau, prime seamen both. "what think ye, gentlemen?" asked morgan, at last pointing to the point looming fearfully close ahead of them. "can we weather it?" "never!" answered de lussan, shaking his head. "well, it has been a short cruise and a merry one. pity to lose our freightage and lives." "and you, velsers?" "no," said the german, "it can't be done. why did we ever come to this cursed coast?" "avast that!" cried morgan, thinking quickly. "gentlemen, we'll club-haul the ship." "the water's too deep, my captain, to give holding ground to the anchor," urged raveneau shrugging his shoulders. "it shoals yonder, i think," answered morgan. "we'll hold on until the last minute and then try." "'tis wasted labor," growled velsers. "and certain death to hold on," added the frenchman. "have you anything else to propose, sirs?" asked morgan sharply. "we can't tack ship against this wind and sea. there's no room to wear. what's to do?" the men made no answer. "forward there!" cried the old buccaneer, and it was astonishing the force and power with which he made himself heard in spite of the roar of the wind and the smash of the sea. "get the lee anchor off the bows there! l'ollonois?" "ay, ay." "run a hawser from the anchor in aft here on the quarter. we'll club-haul the ship. see the cable clear for running." "very good, sir," cried the frenchman, summoning the hardiest hands and the most skilful to carry out his commander's orders. "ready it is, sir," answered hornigold, tightening his grasp on the spokes and nodding his head to his superior. "to the braces, lads! obey orders sharply. it's our last chance." the water was roaring and smashing against the shore not a cable's length away. usually in those latitudes it deepened tremendously a short distance from the low water mark, and there was a grave question whether or not the anchor, with the scope they could give it, would reach bottom. at any rate it must be tried, and tried now. morgan had held on as long as he dared. another minute and they would strike. "down helm!" he shouted. "flow the head sheets! round in on the fore braces, there! show that canvas aft!" the lateen sail on the crossjack yard had been furled, and morgan, to force her head around, directed the after guard to spring into the mizzen-rigging with a bit of tarpaulin and by exposing it and their bodies to the wind to act as a sail in assisting her to head away from the shore. "helm-a-lee! hard-a-lee!" cried hornigold, who with his men was grasping the spokes like a giant. slowly the old galleon swung up into the wind, the waves beating upon her bows with a noise like crashes of thunder. a moment she hung. she could go no farther. "she's in irons! swing that yard!" roared morgan. "cut and veer away forward!" there was a splash as the anchor dropped overboard. "hands on that hawser!" he shouted. "everybody walk away with it!" the whole crew apparently piled on to the anchor hawser in the hope of pulling the ship's stern around so that the wind would take her on the other bow. she was still hanging in the wind and driving straight on shore. "haul away, for god's sake!" cried morgan; but the hawser came in board through their hands with a readiness and ease that showed the anchor had not taken the ground. the drag of the cable to the anchor, however, and the still unspent impetus of the first swing, turned the galleon's stern slightly to windward. her head began slowly to fall off. "she stays! she makes it!" cried the captain. "meet her with the helm! let go and haul! cut away the hawser!" it had been a tremendous feat of seamanship and bade fair to be successful. it was yet touch and go, however, and the breakers were perilously near. they were writhing around her forefoot now, yet the wind was at last coming in over the other bow. "we're safe!" cried morgan. "flatten in forward! haul aft the sheets and braces!" at that instant there was a terrific crash heard above the roar of the tempest. the foretopmast of the _almirante recalde_ carried sharply off at the hounds. relieved of the pressure, she shot up into the wind once more and drove straight into the seething seas. they were lost with their treasure, their hopes, and their crimes! at the mercy of wind and wave! the men were as quick to see the danger as was morgan. they came rushing aft baring their weapons, pouring curses and imprecations upon him. he stood with folded arms, a scornful smile on his old face, looking upon them, carib watching and ready by his side. in another second, with a concussion which threw them all to the deck, the doomed ship struck heavily upon the sands. book iii which treats of the tangled love affairs of the pearl of caracas chapter ix discloses the hopeless passion between donna mercedes de lara and captain dominique alvarado, the commandante of la guayra captain dominique alvarado stood alone on the plaza of the ancient castle which for over a century had been the home of the governors of la guayra. he was gazing listlessly down over the parapet which bordered the bare sheer precipice towering above the seaport town. there was nothing in his eyes, but a great deal in his heavy heart. [illustration] captain alvarado, who filled the honorable station of commandante of the port, was a soldier of proven courage. the _protégé_ and favorite officer of his serene highness the count alvaro de lara, grandee of spain and viceroy of venezuela, he had been honored with great responsibilities, which he had discharged to the satisfaction of his master. from a military point of view the office of governor of la guayra, which he then filled, was of sufficient importance to entitle him to high position and much consideration in the vice-regal court of caracas. of unknown parentage, alvarado had been received into the family of the viceroy when an infant. he had been carefully reared, almost as he had been de lara's son, and had been given abundant opportunity to distinguish himself. in the course of his short life he had managed to amass a modest fortune by honorable means. he was young and handsome; he had been instructed, for the viceroy had early shown partiality for him, in the best schools in the new world. his education had been ripened and polished by a sojourn of several years in europe, not only at the court of madrid but also at that of versailles, where the count de lara had been sent as ambassador to the grand monarch during a period in which, for the sake of supervising the education of his only daughter, he had temporarily absented himself from his beloved venezuela. that an unknown man should have been given such opportunities, should have been treated with so much consideration, was sufficient commentary on the unprecedented kindness of heart of the old hidalgo who represented the failing power of his most catholic majesty of spain, carlos ii., the bewitched, in the new world. whatever his origin, therefore, he had been brought up as a spanish soldier and gentleman, and the old count was openly proud of him. with assured station, ample means, increasing reputation; with youth, health, and personal good looks, the young governor should have been a happy man. but it was easy to see from the heavy frown upon his sunny face--for he was that rare thing in spain, a blue-eyed blond who at first sight might have been mistaken for an englishman--that his soul was filled with melancholy. and well it might be, for alvarado was the victim of a hopeless passion for mercedes de lara, the viceroy's daughter, known from one end of the caribbean to the other, from her beauty and her father's station, as the pearl of caracas. nor was his present sadness due to unrequited passion, for he was confident that the adoration of his heart was met with an adequate response from its object. indeed, it was no secret to him that mercedes loved him with a devotion which matched his own. it was not that; but her father had announced his intention to betroth the girl to don felipe de tobar y bobadilla, a young gentleman of ancient lineage and vast wealth, who had been born in america and was the reputed head in the western hemisphere of the famous family whose name he bore. the consent of donna mercedes to the betrothal had not been asked. that was a detail which was not considered necessary by parents in the year of grace , and especially by spanish parents. that she should object to the engagement, or refuse to carry out her father's plan never crossed the viceroy's imagination. that she might love another, was an idea to which he never gave a thought. it was the business of a well-brought-up spanish maiden to be a passive instrument in the carrying out of her father's views, especially in things matrimonial, in which, indeed, love found little room for entrance. but donna mercedes loved captain alvarado and she cared nothing for don felipe. not that don felipe was disagreeable to her, or to any one. he was a spanish gentleman in every sense of the word, handsome, distinguished, proud, and gallant--but she did not, could not, love him. to complicate matters still further de tobar was captain alvarado's cherished companion and most intimate friend. the progress of the love affair between alvarado and donna mercedes had been subjective rather than objective. they had enjoyed some unusual opportunities for meeting on account of the station the former filled in the viceroy's household and the place he held in his heart, yet the opportunities for extended freedom of intercourse between young men and women of the gentler class in those days, and especially among spaniards of high rank, were extremely limited. the old count took care to see that his daughter was carefully watched and shielded; not because he suspected her of anything, for he did not, but because it was a habit of his people and his ancestry. the busy life that he led, the many employments which were thrust upon him, his military duties, had kept the days of the young soldier very full, and under the most favorable circumstances he would have had little time for love making. fortunately much time is not required to develop a love affair, especially in new spain and near to the equator. but though they had enjoyed brief opportunity for personal intercourse, the very impossibilities of free communication, the difficulties of meeting, had but added fuel and fire to their affection. love had flamed into these two hearts with all the intensity of their tropic blood and tropic land. alvarado's passion could feed for days and grow large upon the remembrance of the fragrance of her hand when he kissed it last in formal salutation. mercedes' soul could enfold itself in the recollection of the too ardent pressure of his lips, the burning yet respectful glance he had shot at her, by others unperceived, when he said farewell. the memory of each sigh the tropic breeze had wafted to her ears as he walked in attendance upon her at some formal function of the court was as much to her as the flower which she had artfully dropped at his feet and which had withered over his heart ever since, was to him. the difficulties in the way of the exchange of those sweet nothings that lovers love to dwell upon and the impossibility of any hoped for end to their love making intensified their passion. little or nothing had been spoken between them, but each knew the other loved. for the first moment the knowledge of that glorious fact had sufficed them--but afterwards they wanted more. having tasted, they would fain quaff deeply. but they could see no way by which to manage the realization of their dreams. the situation was complicated in every possible way for alvarado. had he been a man of family like his friend, de tobar, he would have gone boldly to the viceroy and asked for the hand of his daughter, in which case he thought he would have met with no refusal; but, being ignorant of his birth, having not even a legal right to the name he bore, he knew that the proud old hidalgo would rather see his daughter dead than wedded to him. of all the ancient splendors of the spanish people there was left them but one thing of which they could be proud--their ancient name. de lara, who belonged to one of the noblest and most distinguished families of the iberian peninsula, would never consent to degrade his line by allying his only daughter to a nobody, however worthy in other respects the suitor might prove to be. again, had mercedes' father been any other than the life-long patron and friend to whom he literally owed everything that he possessed, such was the impetuosity of alvarado's disposition that, at every hazard, he would have taken the girl by stealth or force from her father's protection, made her his wife, and sought an asylum in england or france, or wherever he could. so desperate was his state of mind, so overwhelming his love that he would have shrunk from nothing to win her. yet just because the viceroy had been a father to him, just because he had loved him, had been unexampled in his kindness and consideration to him, just because he reposed such absolutely unlimited confidence in him, the young man felt bound in honor by fetters that he could not break. and there was his friendship for de tobar. there were many young gallants about the vice-regal court who, jealous of alvarado's favor and envious of his merits, had not scrupled in the face of his unknown origin to sneer, to mock, or to slight--so far as it was safe to do either of these things to so brave and able a soldier. amid these gilded youths de tobar with noble magnanimity and affection had proved himself alvarado's staunchest friend. a romantic attachment had sprung up between the two young men, and the first confidant of de tobar's love affairs had been alvarado himself. to betray his friend was almost as bad as to betray his patron. it was not to be thought of. yet how could he, a man in whose blood--though it may have been ignoble for aught he knew--ran all the passions of his race with the fervor and fire of the best, a man who loved, as he did, the ground upon which the señorita de lara walked, stand by tamely and see her given to another, no matter who he might be? he would have given the fortune which he had amassed by honorable toil, the fame he had acquired by brilliant exploits, the power he enjoyed through the position he had achieved, the weight which he bore in the councils of new spain, every prospect that life held dear to him to solve the dilemma and win the woman he loved for his wife. he passed hours in weary isolation on the plaza of the great castle overlooking the stretched-out town upon the narrow strand with the ceaseless waves beating ever upon the shore from the heavenly turquoise blue of the caribbean wavering far into the distant horizon before him. he spent days and nights, thinking, dreaming, agonizing, while he wrestled vainly with the problem. sometimes he strove to call to his mind those stern resolutions of duty which he had laid before himself at the beginning of his career, and to which he had steadfastly adhered in the pursuit of his fortunes; and he swore that he would be true to his ideals, that the trust reposed in him by the viceroy should not be betrayed, that the friendship in which he was held by de tobar should never be broken, that he would tear out of his heart the image of the woman he loved. and then, again, he knew that so long as that heart kept up its beating she would be there, and to rob him of her image meant to take away his life. if there had been a war, if some opportunity had been vouchsafed him to pour out, in battle against the enemy, some of the ardor that consumed him, the situation would have been ameliorated; but the times were those of profound peace. there was nothing to occupy his mind except the routine duties of the garrison. spain, under the last poor, crazed, bewitched, degenerate descendant of the once formidable hapsburgs, had reached the lowest depths of ignominy and decay. alone, almost, under her flag venezuela was well governed--from the spanish standpoint, that is; from the native american point of view the rule of even the gentlest of spaniards had made a hell on earth of the fairest countries of the new continent. of all the cities and garrisons which were under the sway of the viceroy de lara, la guayra was the best appointed and cared for. but it did not require a great deal of the time or attention from so skilled a commander as alvarado to keep things in proper shape. time, therefore, hung heavily on his hands. there were few women of rank in the town, which was simply the port of entry for st. jago de leon across the mountains which rose in tree-clad slopes diversified by bold precipices for ten thousand feet back of the palace, and from the commoner sort of women the young captain held himself proudly aloof, while his love safeguarded him from the allurement of the evil and the shameless who flaunted their iniquity in every seaport on the caribbean. on the other side of the mountain range after a descent of several thousand feet to a beautiful verdant valley whose altitude tempered the tropic heat of the low latitude into a salubrious and delightful climate, lay the palace of the viceroy and the city which surrounded it, st. jago, or santiago de leon, commonly called the city of caracas. many a day had alvarado turned backward from the white-walled, red-roofed town spread out at his feet, baking under the palms, seething in the fierce heat, as if striving to pierce with his gaze the great cordilleras, on the farther side of which in the cool white palace beneath the gigantic ceibas the queen of his heart made her home. he pictured her at all hours of the day; he dwelt upon her image, going over again in his mind each detail of her face and figure. the perfume of her hand was still fragrant upon his lips; the sound of her voice, the soft musical voice of andalusia, still vibrated in his ear; her burning glance pierced him even in his dreams like a sword. he was mad, mad with love for her, crazed with hopeless passion. there seemed to be no way out of his misery but for him to pass his own sword through his heart, or to throw himself from the precipice, or to plunge into the hot, cruel blue of the enveloping caribbean--the color of the sea changed in his eye with his temper, like a woman's mood. yet he was young, he hoped in spite of himself. he prayed--for he was not old enough to have lost faith--and he planned. besides, he was too brave a soldier to kill himself, and she was not yet married. she was not formally betrothed, even; although it was well known that her father looked favorably upon de tobar's suit, no formal announcement had been made of it as yet. so in spite of his judgment he dreamed--the thoughts of youth and love are long, long thoughts, indeed. that morning the young captain, engrossed in his emotions, was not aware of the approach of a messenger, until the clank of the man's sword upon the stone flags of the plaza caused him to lift his head. he was a soldier, an officer of the bodyguard of the viceroy, and he bore in his hand a letter sealed with the de lara coat of arms. the messenger saluted and handed the packet to the captain. "yesterday evening, his excellency, the viceroy, charged me to deliver this letter to you to-day." "fadrique," called alvarado, to a servitor, "a flagon of wine for the cavalier. by your leave, sir," he continued with formal politeness, opening the packet and reading the message: "to the captain alvarado, commandante of la guayra. greeting: as one faithful to the fortunes of our family we would crave your honorable presence at our palace in santiago to-morrow evening. in view of your service and devotion, we have done you the honor to appoint you as one of the witnesses to the formal betrothal of our daughter, donna mercedes, to your friend, don felipe de tobar. after that, as we have received appeals for help from the orinoco country, we propose to lead his most catholic majesty's imperial troops thither in person to overawe the natives; and, reposing full trust in your fidelity and honor, we deign to commit the donna mercedes to your safe keeping in our city of la guayra, until we return. therefore make your preparations accordingly. given under our hand and seal, de lara, _viceroy_." it had come! the old man, as a last token of his respect, had nominated him as a witness to the contract which robbed him forever of hope and happiness. the young man went white before the keen eye of the messenger, who, in common with other officers of the viceroy's court, suspected what was, indeed, concealed from no one save the father and lover. the world swam before his vision. the blue sea seemed to rise up and meet the green hills until he could not distinguish the one from the other. his heart almost stopped its beating, yet summoning his resolution he recovered himself by an effort that left him trembling, the sweat beading his forehead. "are you in a state for a return journey at once, señor?" he asked of the young officer. "at your service, captain." "that's well. say to his excellency, the viceroy, that i thank him for the honor he does me. i shall wait upon him to-morrow and obey his commands." chapter x how donna mercedes tempted her lover and how he strove valiantly to resist her appeals alvarado was alone in the cabinet of the viceroy, to which his rank and the favor in which his excellency held him gave him access at all times. [illustration] he had ridden all day over the rough road that winds over the mountains from la guayra to caracas. the storm which had rushed down the mountain-side all afternoon matched the tumult in his soul, and the sheets of rain blown upon him by the fierce wind had not cooled the fever of his agitation. the unusual tempest was one of the most terrific that had swept over the coast in years. he had marked as he rode a huge ship far to seaward, staggering along under shortened canvas and laboring tremendously in the heavy seas. but his thoughts were so centered upon the situation in which he found himself that he had not particularly noticed the vessel, although passing ships were infrequent sights off the port of la guayra. pale, haggard, and distraught from his mental struggle he had crossed the pass at the summit of the mountain and descended into the fertile valley now adrip with rain and looking almost cold under the gray sky, and had presented himself at the palace of the viceroy. he had changed his apparel after his reception and his old sergeant had polished his breastplate until it fairly blazed with light, for though the occasion was one of peace he had felt that he could better sustain his part in the military uniform in which he had won his only title to consideration. he schooled himself to go through that part with the resolution of a spanish gentleman. although there was no evidence of gentle blood save such as was presented by his actions, he had always cherished the hope that could the secret of his birth be revealed he would not be found unfit for the honors that he had won and the ambitions that he cherished. consequently his appearance in the brilliantly lighted hall of the palace among the gay courtiers resplendent in magnificent attire, blazing with jewels, threw a somber note over the proceedings. it was as a soldier he had won fame and the consideration of the viceroy; in no other capacity, so far as any man knew, had he the right to enter that assemblage of the rich and well born. it was as a soldier he would perform that hardest of all duties which had ever been laid upon him by his friend and patron, the governor. pale, stern, composed, he stood an iron figure of repression. so severe was the constraint that he put upon himself that he had given no sign of his emotion, even at the near approach of donna mercedes, and the hand which signed his name beneath her father's as the principal witness was as steady as if it held merely the sword in some deadly combat. he endured passively the affectionate greetings of the happy de tobar, who was intoxicated at the assurance afforded by the betrothal of the coming realization of all his hopes. he sustained with firmness the confidence of the viceroy and the admissions de lara made to him in private, of his pleasure in the suitable and fortunate marriage which was there arranged. he even bore without breaking one long, piteous appeal which had been shot at him from the black eyes of the unhappy mercedes. to her he seemed preternaturally cold and indifferent. he was so strong, so brave, so successful. she had counted upon some interposition from him, but the snow-capped andes were no colder than he appeared, their granite sides no more rigid and unsympathetic. it was with a feeling almost of anger and resentment at last that she had signed the betrothal contract. but the restraint on the man was more than he could bear. the cumulative force of the reproach of the woman he loved, the confidence of the viceroy, the rapturous happiness of his best friend, was not to be endured longer. pleading indisposition, he early begged leave to withdraw from the festivities which succeeded the completion of the betrothal ceremony and the retirement of the ladies. at the suggestion of the viceroy, who said he desired to consult with him later in the evening, he went into the deserted cabinet of the latter. the palace was built in the form of a quadrangle around an open patio. a balcony ran along the second story passing the viceroy's cabinet, beyond which was his bedroom and beyond that the apartments of his daughter. the rain had ceased and the storm had spent itself. it was a calm and beautiful night, the moon shining with tropic splendor through the open window dispensed with the necessity of lights. there was no one in the cabinet when he entered, and he felt at last able to give way to his emotion; mercedes though she was not married was now lost to him beyond recourse. after the women withdrew from the hall with donna mercedes there was no restraint put upon the young nobles, and from the other side of the patio came the sound of uproarious revelry and feasting--his friends and comrades with generous cheer felicitating the happy bridegroom that was to be. alvarado was alone, undisturbed, forgotten, and likely to remain so. he put his head upon his hands and groaned in anguish. "why should it not have been i?" he murmured. "is he stronger, braver, a better soldier? does he love her more? o mother of god! riches? can i not acquire them? fame? have i not a large measure? birth? ah, that is it! my father! my mother! if i could only know! how she looked at me! what piteous appeal in her eyes! what reproach when i stood passive cased in iron, with a breaking heart. o my god! my god! mercedes! mercedes!" in his anguish he called the name aloud. so absorbed and preoccupied in his grief had he been that he was not aware of a figure softly moving along the balcony in the shadow. he did not hear a footfall coming through the open window that gave into the room. he did not realize that he had an auditor to his words, a witness to his grief, until a touch soft as a snowflake fell upon his fair head and a voice for which he languished whispered in his ear: "you called me; i am come." "señorita mercedes!" he cried, lifting his head and gazing upon her in startled surprise. "how came you here?" he added brusquely, catching her hands with a fierce grasp in the intensity of his emotion as he spoke. "is this my greeting?" she answered, surprised in turn that he had not instantly swept her to his heart. she strove to draw herself away, and when he perceived her intent he opened his hands and allowed her arms to fall by her side. "i have been mistaken," she went on piteously, "i am not wanted." she turned away and stood full in the silver bar of the moonlight streaming through the casement. her white face shone in the light against the dark background of the huge empty room--that face with its aureole of soft dark hair, the face of a saint, pale yet not passionless, of the heaven heavenly, yet with just enough of earthly feeling in her eyes to attest that she was a very woman after all. "go not," he cried, catching her again and drawing her back. gone were his resolutions, shattered was his determination, broken was his resistance. she was here before him, at all hazards he would detain her. they were alone together, almost for the first time in their lives. it was night, the balmy wind blew softly, the moonlight enveloped them. such an opportunity would never come again. it was madness. it was fatal. no matter. she should not go now. "i heard you," she murmured, swaying toward him. "i heard--you seemed to be--suffering. i do not know why--something drew me on. you whispered--you were speaking--i--listened. i came nearer. was your heart breaking, too? despise me!" she put her face in her hands. it was a confession she made. a wave of shame swept over her. "despise you? ah, god help me, i love you!" and this time he gathered her in his arms, and drew her back into the deeper shadow. "and you were so cold," she whispered. "i looked at you. i begged you with all my soul before i signed. you did nothing, nothing! o mother of god, is there no help?" "dost love me?" "with all my soul," she answered. "poor----" "nay----" "obscure----" "nay----" "lowly--perhaps ignobly born----" "nay, love, these are mere words to me. rich or poor, high or low, noble or ignoble, thou only hast my heart. it beats and throbs only for thee. i have thought upon thee, dreamed upon thee, loved thee. i can not marry don felipe. i, too, have the pride of the de lara's. my father shall find it. i signed that contract under duress. you would do nothing. oh, alvarado, alvarado, wilt thou stand by and let me be taken into the arms of another? but no, i shall die before that happens." "donna mercedes," cried the unhappy young man, "i love thee, i adore thee, i worship thee with all my heart and soul! were it not a coward's act i would have plunged my dagger into my breast ere i witnessed that betrothal to-night." "thou shouldst first have sheathed it in mine," she whispered. "but could'st find no better use for thy weapon than that?" "would you have me kill don felipe?" "no, no, but defend me with it. there are hidden recesses in the mountains. your soldiers worship you. take me away, away into the undiscovered countries to the southward. a continent is before you. we will find a new mexico, carve out a new peru with your sword, though i want nothing but to be with you, alone with you, my soldier, my lover, my king!" "but your plighted word?" "'tis nothing. my heart was plighted to you. that is enough. let us go, we may never have the chance again," she urged, clinging to him. a fearful struggle was going on in alvarado's breast. what she proposed was the very thing he would have attempted were the circumstances other than they were. but his patron, his friend, his military duty, his honor as a soldier--the sweat beaded his forehead again. he had made up his mind at the betrothal to give her up. he had abandoned hope; he had put aside possibilities, for he could see none. but here she was in his arms, a living, breathing, vital, passionate figure, her heart beating against his own, pleading with him to take her away. here was love with all its witchery, with all its magic, with all its power, attacking the defenses of his heart; and the woman whom he adored as his very life, with all the passion in his being, was urging, imploring, begging him to take her away. he was weakening, wavering, and the woman who watched him realized it and added fuel to the flame. "the love i bear your father!" he gasped. "should it bind where mine breaks? i am his daughter." "and don felipe is my personal friend." "and my betrothed, but i hesitate not." "my oath as a soldier----" "and mine as a woman." "gratitude--duty----" "oh, alvarado, you love me not!" she cried. "these are the strongest. i have dreamed a dream. lend me your dagger. there shall be no awakening. without you i can not bear----" as she spoke she plucked the dagger from the belt of the young soldier, lifted the point gleaming in the moonlight and raised it to her heart. he caught it instantly. "no, no!" he cried. "give back the weapon." the poniard fell from her hand. "thou hast taken me, i thank thee," she murmured, thinking the battle won as he swept her once more in his arms. this time he bent his head to her upturned face and pressed kiss after kiss upon the trembling lips. it was the first time, and they abandoned themselves to their transports with all the fire of their long restrained passion. "and is this the honor of captain alvarado?" cried a stern voice as the viceroy entered the room. "my officer in whom i trusted? death and fury! donna mercedes, what do you here?" "the fault is mine," said alvarado, stepping between the woman he loved and her infuriated father. "i found donna mercedes in the cabinet when i came in. she strove to fly. i detained her--by force. i poured into her ear a tale of my guilty passion. mine is the fault. she repulsed me. she drove me off." "the dagger at your feet?" "she snatched it from me and swore to bury it in her heart unless i left her. i alone am guilty." he lied instantly and nobly to save the woman's honor. "thou villain, thou false friend!" shouted the viceroy, whipping out his sword. he was beside himself with fury, but there was a characteristic touch of magnanimity about his next action; so handsome, so splendid, so noble, in spite of his degrading confession, did the young man look, that he gave him a chance. "draw your sword, captain alvarado, for as i live i shall run you through!" alvarado's hand went to his belt, he unclasped it and threw it aside. "there lies my sword. i am dishonored," he cried. "strike, and end it all." "not so, for christ's sake!" screamed mercedes, who had heard as if in a daze. "he hath not told the truth. he hath lied for me. i alone am guilty. i heard him praying here in the still night and i came in, not he. i threw myself into his arms. i begged him to take me away. he spoke of his love and friendship for you, for don felipe, his honor, his duty. i did indeed seize the dagger, but because though he loved me he would still be true. on my head be the shame. honor this gentleman, my father, as i--love him." she flung herself at her father's feet and caught his hand. "i love him," she sobbed, "i love him. with all the power, all the intensity, all the pride of the greatest of the de laras i love him." "is this true, captain alvarado?" "would god she had not said so," answered the young man gloomily. "is it true?" "i can not deny it, my lord, and yet i am the guilty one. i was on the point of yielding. had you not come in we should have gone away." "yet you had refused?" "i--i--hesitated." "refused my daughter! my god!" whispered the old man. "and you, shameless girl, you forced yourself upon him? threw yourself into his arms?" "yes. i loved him. did'st never love in thine own day, my father? did'st never feel that life itself were as nothing compared to what beats and throbs here?" "but don felipe?" "he is a gallant gentleman. i love him not. oh, sir, for god's sake----" "press your daughter no further, don alvaro, she is beside herself," gasped out alvarado hoarsely. "'tis all my fault. i loved her so deeply that she caught the feeling in her own heart. when i am gone she will forget me. you have raised me from obscurity, you have loaded me with honor, you have given me every opportunity--i will be true. i will be faithful to you. 'twill be death, but i hope it may come quickly. misjudge me not, sweet lady. happiness smiles not upon my passion, sadness marks me for her own. i pray god 'twill be but for a little space. give me some work to do that i may kill sorrow by losing my life, my lord. and thou, donna mercedes, forget me and be happy with don felipe." "never, never!" cried the girl. she rose to her feet and came nearer to him. her father stood by as if stunned. she laid her arms around alvarado's neck. she looked into her lover's eyes. "you love me and i love you. what matters anything else?" "oh, my lord, my lord!" cried alvarado, staring at the viceroy, "kill me, i pray, and end it all!" "thou must first kill me," cried mercedes, extending her arms across her lover's breast. "donna mercedes," said her father, "thou hast put such shame upon the name and fame of de lara as it hath never borne in five hundred years. thou hast been betrothed to an honorable gentleman. it is my will that the compact be carried out." "o my god! my god!" cried the unhappy girl, sinking into a chair. "wilt thou permit such things to be?" "and, alvarado," went on the old man, not heeding his daughter's piteous prayer. "i know not thy parentage nor to what station thou wert born, but i have marked you from that day when, after panama, they brought you a baby into my house. i have watched you with pride and joy. whatever responsibility i have placed before you, you have met it. whatever demand that hard circumstances have made upon you, you have overcome it. for every test there counts a victory. you have done the state and me great service, none greater than to-night. with such a temptation before thee, that few men that i have come in contact with in my long life could have resisted, you have thrown it aside. you and your honor have been tried and not found wanting. whatever you may have been i know you now to be the finest thing on god's earth, a spanish gentleman! nay, with such evidence of your character i could, were it possible, have set aside the claims of birth and station----" "oh, my father, my father!" interrupted the girl joyously. "and have given you donna mercedes to wife." "your excellency----" "but 'tis too late. the betrothal has been made; the contract signed; my word is passed. in solemn attestation before our holy church i have promised to give my daughter to don felipe de tobar. nothing can be urged against the match----" "but love," interjected mercedes; "that is wanting." "it seems so," returned the viceroy. "and yet, where duty and honor demand, love is nothing. donna mercedes, thou hast broken my heart. that a spanish gentlewoman should have shown herself so bold! i could punish thee, but thou art mine all. i am an old man. perhaps there is some excuse in love. i will say no more. i will e'en forgive thee, but i must have your words, both of you, that there shall be no more of this; that no other word of affection for the other shall pass either lip, forever, and that you will be forever silent about the events of this night." "speak thou first, captain alvarado," said the girl. "you have loved me," cried the young man, turning toward donna mercedes, "and you have trusted me," bowing to the old man. "here are two appeals. god help me, i can not hesitate. thou shalt have my word. would this were the last from my lips." "and he could promise; he could say it!" wailed the broken-hearted woman. "o my father, he loves me not! i have been blind! i promise thee, on the honor of a de lara! i have leaned upon a broken reed." "never," cried the old man, "hath he loved thee so truly and so grandly as at this moment." "it may be, it may be," sobbed the girl, reeling as she spoke. "take me away. 'tis more than i can bear." then she sank prostrate, senseless between the two men who loved her. chapter xi wherein captain alvarado pledges his word to the viceroy of venezuela, the count alvaro de lara, and to don felipe de tobar, his friend "we must have assistance," cried the viceroy in dismay. "alvarado, do you go and summon----" "into the women's apartments, my lord?" "nay, i will go. watch you here. i trust you, you see," answered the old man, promptly running through the window and out on the balcony toward the apartments of his daughter. he went quickly but making no noise, for he did not wish the events of the evening to become public. left to himself, alvarado, resisting the temptation to take the prostrate form of his love in his arms and cover her cold face with kisses, knelt down by her side and began chafing her hands. he thought it no breach of propriety to murmur her name. indeed he could not keep the words from his lips. almost instantly the viceroy departed there was a commotion in the outer hall. there was a knock on the door, repeated once and again, and before alvarado could determine upon a course of action, don felipe burst into the room followed by señora agapida, the duenna of donna mercedes. "your excellency----" cried the old woman in agitation, "i missed the señorita. i have searched----" "but who is this?" interrupted de tobar, stepping over to where alvarado still knelt by the prostrate girl. "'tis not the viceroy!" he laid his hand on the other man's shoulder and recoiled in surprise. "dominique!" he exclaimed. "what do you here and who----" "mother of god!" shrieked the duenna. "there lies the donna mercedes!" "she is hurt?" asked felipe, for the moment his surprise at the presence of alvarado lost in his anxiety for his betrothal. "i know not," answered the distracted old woman. "she lives," said alvarado, rising to his feet and facing his friend. "she hath but fainted." "water!" said señora agapida. both men started instantly to hand her the carafe that stood on a table near by. don felipe was nearer and got it first. señora agapida loosened the dress of the young woman and sprinkled her face and hands with the water, laying her head back upon the floor as she did so and in a moment the girl opened her eyes. in the darkness of the room, for no lamp had as yet been lighted, she had not recognized in her bewilderment who was bending over her, for alvarado had forced himself to draw back, yielding his place to de tobar as if by right. "alvarado!" she murmured. "she lives," said don felipe, with relief and jealousy mingled in his voice, and then he turned and faced the other. "and now, señor alvarado, perhaps you will be able to explain how you came to be here alone, at this hour of night, with my betrothed, and why she calls thy name! by st. jago, sir, have you dared to offer violence to this lady?" his hand went to his sword. to draw it was the work of a moment. he menaced the young soldier with the point. "i could kill you as you stand there!" he cried in growing rage. "but the memory of our ancient friendship stays my hand. you shall have a chance. where is your weapon!" "strike, if it please you. i want nothing but death," answered alvarado, making no effort whatever to defend himself. "hast deserved it at my hands, then?" exclaimed the now infuriated de tobar. "stay!" interrupted the viceroy re-entering the room. "what means this assault upon my captain? donna mercedes?" "she revives," said the duenna. "is it thou, señora?" said the viceroy. "i sought thee unavailingly." "your highness," said the old woman, "i missed the señorita and found her here." "and how came you unbidden into my private cabinet, don felipe?" "your excellency, señora agapida found me in the corridor. she was distraught over her lady's absence. we knocked. there was no answer. we entered. i crave your pardon, but it was well i came, for i found my betrothed and my best friend alone, together, here," he pointed gloomily. "a spanish gentleman alone at this hour of the night with----" "silence!" thundered the viceroy. "would'st asperse my daughter's name? darest thou--by heaven, you hold a weapon in your hand. i am old but--guard thyself!" he called, whipping out his sword with astonishing agility. "i can not fight with you," said de tobar lowering his point, "but for god's sake, explain!" "the donna mercedes is as pure as heaven," asserted alvarado. "then why did you bid me strike and stand defenseless a moment since?" "because i love her and she is yours." "death!" shouted de tobar. "take up thy sword!" "stay," broke in the old viceroy quickly, "keep silent, alvarado, let me tell it all. i am her father. i would consult with the captain upon the journey of the morrow and other matters of state. with us here was my daughter. is there aught to provoke thy jealousy or rage in this? overcome by--er--the events of the day she fainted. one of us had to go for aid. 'twas not meet that the young man should go to the women's apartments, i left them together." "alone?" queried de tobar. "ay, alone. one was my daughter, a de lara, and she was senseless. the other was almost my son, i knew him. he had proved himself. i could trust him." "your excellency, i thank you," cried alvarado, seizing the hand of the old nobleman and carrying it to his lips. "you said you loved her," said de tobar turning to alvarado. "and so i do," answered alvarado, "but who could help it? it is an infection i have caught from my friend." "have you spoken words of love to her? have you pleaded with her? did you meet here by appoint?" "don felipe," cried donna mercedes, who had kept silent at first hardly comprehending and then holding her breath at the dénouement. "hear me. captain alvarado's manner to me has been coldness itself. nay, he scarcely manifested the emotion of a friend." she spoke with a bitterness and resentment painfully apparent to alvarado, but which in his bewilderment don felipe did not discover. "i swear to you, señor," she went on cunningly, "until this hour i never heard him say those words, 'i love you.' but this scene is too much for me, i can not bear it. help me hence. nay, neither of you gentlemen. with señora agapida's aid i can manage. farewell. when you wish to claim me, don felipe, the betrothal shall be carried out and i shall be yours. good-night." de tobar sprang after her and caught her hand, raising it respectfully to his lips. "now, señor," he cried turning back, "we can discuss this question unhindered by the presence of the lady. you said you loved her. how dare you, a man of no birth, whose very name is an assumption, lift your eyes so high?" "this from you, my friend," cried alvarado, turning whiter than ever at this insult. "sir," interposed the voice of the viceroy, "restrain yourself. 'tis true we know not the birth or name of this young man whom i have honored with my confidence, upon whom you have bestowed your friendship. perchance it may be nobler than thine, or mine, perchance not so, but he hath ever shown himself--and i have watched him from his youth--a gentleman, a spanish gentleman whom all might emulate. you wrong him deeply----" "but he loved her." "what of that?" answered the viceroy. "ay," cried alvarado. "i do love her, and that i make no secret of it from you proves the sincerity of my soul. who could help loving her, and much less a man in my position, for, in so far as was proper in a maiden, she has been kind to me since i was a boy. i cherish no hopes, no dreams, no ambitions. i locked my passion within my breast and determined to keep it there though it killed me. to-night, with her helpless at my feet, thrown on my pity, it was wrung from me; but i swear to you by my knightly honor, by that friendship that hath subsisted between us of old, that from this hour those words shall never pass my lips again; that from this hour i shall be as silent as before. oh, trust me! i am sadly torn. thou hast all, i nothing! if thou canst not trust me--i bade you strike before, strike now and end it all. what supports life when love is denied? friendship and duty. if these be taken from me, i am poor indeed, and i'd liefer die than live in shame. your excellency, bid him strike." "thy life is not thine," answered the older man, "it belongs to spain. we have fallen on evil times and thy country needs thine arm. thou hast said aright. señor de tobar," he cried, "he is thy friend. take him back to thy affection. i am an old man and a father, but were i young and one so beautiful crossed my path as donna mercedes--by our lady he hath excuse for anything! he speaks the truth, though it be to his own hurt. canst stand unmoved, señor, in thy happiness before such misery as that?" "dominique, forgive me!" cried de tobar, "i was wrong. i am ashamed. thou couldst not help it. i forgive thee. i love thee still." he made as if to embrace his friend, but alvarado held him off. "wilt trust me fully, absolutely, entirely?" "with all my life," answered de tobar. "thou shalt be tried," said the viceroy. "we march toward the orinoco in three days. i had proposed to establish donna mercedes at la guayra under care of alvarado." "not now, your excellency," cried the young man. "nay, i shall, provided de tobar is willing." "a test, a test!" answered that young man. "gladly do i welcome it. as thou lovest me, and as i love thee, guard thou my betrothed." "your excellency, take me with you to the orinoco, and let don felipe stay at home with donna mercedes in la guayra." "i am no experienced soldier to command a town," protested de tobar. "nay," said the viceroy, "it shall be as we have said. wilt take the charge?" "ay, and defend it with all my soul!" answered alvarado firmly. "señor alvarado and don felipe, you have shown yourselves true spanish gentlemen this night, hidalgos of whom spain may well be proud," cried the viceroy in pleased and proud content. "to you, de tobar, i shall give my daughter with assurance and pride, and were there another to bear my name i could wish no better husband for her than you, my poor friend. now, the hour is late, i have much to say to alvarado. don felipe, you will pardon me? good-night." "good-night, your excellency," promptly returned de tobar. "i shall see you in the morning, dominique, ere you set forth for la guayra. i love thee and trust thee, my friend." chapter xii shows how donna mercedes chose death rather than give up captain alvarado, and what befel them on the road over the mountains they set forth early in the morning. there was a cool freshness in the air from the storm of the day before and if they wished to avoid the necessity of traveling in the heat of the day early departure was necessary. although the season was summer in a tropic land not far from the equator, the altitude of caracas lowered the ordinary temperature to an agreeable degree, but after they crossed the pass of la veta and began the descent toward la guayra they would be within the confines of one of the hottest localities on the face of the globe. [illustration] early as it was, the viceroy and his officers, including, of course, de tobar, were assembled in the patio to bid the travelers godspeed. while de lara gave a few parting directions to alvarado, don felipe took advantage of the opportunity and of his position as the publicly affianced of donna mercedes to address her a few words in farewell, which she received with listless indifference that did not bode well for the future happiness of either of them. the final preparations were soon over. don felipe lifted donna mercedes to the saddle of her spanish jennet; some of the other gentlemen assisted the señora agapida to the back of the sure-footed mule which she had elected as her mount; alvarado saluted and sprang to the back of his mettlesome barb, and, followed by a half-dozen troopers who constituted the escort, the rear being brought up by servants with pack mules carrying the personal baggage of the two ladies, the little cavalcade moved off, the gentlemen in the viceroy's suite standing bareheaded in the doorway as they disappeared under the trees and began the ascent toward the pass. with the whispered assurance of his friend, "i trust you," still ringing in his ear, with the sound of the viceroy's stern voice, "i know not what danger could befall my child in this peaceful time, but i have a premonition that something threatens, and i charge you to guard her welfare and happiness with your life," still fresh in his mind, alvarado, whose white, haggard face showed that he had passed a sleepless night, rode at the head of the column. some distance in front of him rode a trooper, for there were even then thieves, wandering bands of masterless men who levied bloody toll on travelers from the capitol whenever they got opportunity. next to the captain came the sergeant of the little guard, then the two women, followed closely by two more of the soldiers, after that the little pack train, which he had ordered to close up and keep in touch after they left the city, and, last of all, the two remaining soldiers to bring up the rear. the soldiers, servants, and muleteers were in high spirits. there was little danger to be apprehended, for the party was too strong to fear attack from any of the brigand bodies, and the military order of march was taken more as a matter of habit than from any special need. the day was pleasant, the scenery, though familiar, was at the same time grand and beautiful, and they were happy--all, that is, except donna mercedes, the duenna, and alvarado. the worthy señora agapida with womanly shrewdness more than suspected the true state of affairs. indeed, mercedes, who loved the old woman, who had been as a mother to her, her own mother having died when she was a mere child, had scarcely taken the trouble to conceal her misery, and the old woman's heart was wrung whenever she looked at the drooping figure at her side. she would fain have brought the flush of happiness to the face of the girl she loved, by throwing her into the arms of alvarado; but, as a distant connection of the de laras herself, the worthy dame had her own notions of pride, and her honor would not permit her to do anything for which the viceroy could properly fault her. the ancient duenna was an indifferent horsewoman, too, and although she had the easiest and surest footed beast of the party she journeyed with many sighs and groans of dissatisfaction. she bravely made an effort at first to cheer up her charge, but soon perceived that the task was beyond her powers, so she rode along in a silence unbroken save by her frequent ejaculations. when mercedes had met alvarado early in the morning she had acknowledged his profound salutation with the curtest and coldest of nods. she was furiously and bitterly angry with him; for, between duty, honor, friendship, and her love, he had not chosen her. she knew that he loved her. she had known it a long time, and, if she had the slightest doubt, the sincerity with which he had spoken the night before, the fierce, passionate fervor of the kisses that he had pressed upon her lips, his utter abandonment to his passion, had more than satisfied her. yet, when she had offered to throw everything to the winds--love, duty, obedience, if he would only take her away--he had hesitated. with her, a woman who had all venezuela at her feet, held in his arms, he had repulsed her, refused her! he had heard the open confession of her overwhelming love for him, and he had resisted her! with the feel of her heart beating against his own, he had strained her to his breast and prated of honor and duty! she was mad with anger and disappointment. she loathed him; she hated him; she raged against him in her heart. why had he not killed de tobar where he stood, seized her in his arms, braved the anger of her father, and galloped away--anywhere out into the mysterious southland where they could be together? well and good, she would marry don felipe. she would assume a happiness that she could not feel and kill him with the sight of it. he had disdained her; he should suffer, suffer in proportion to his love, such torments as he had made her suffer last night--shame, disappointment, indignation. she had not slept the entire night, either, thinking these things, yet it had not all been pain. how nobly he had lied to save her! he, to whom a lie was worse than death. he had tried to assume dishonor for her sake. he loved her; yes, there was no doubt of it. she closed her eyes with the thought and her whole being was filled with exquisite anguish. he loved her, he was made for her, yet when he might have taken her he refused. de tobar was indeed a brave and gallant gentleman, but his qualities were as moonlight to the sunlight compared to those of alvarado. in spite of herself, though the mere suggestion of it angered her, she found herself obliged to grant that there was something noble in that position he had assumed which so filled her with fury. it was not, with him, a question of loving duty and honor more than herself, but it was a question of doing duty and preserving honor, though the heart broke and the soul was rent in the effort. because he had the strength to do these things, not to betray his friend, not to return ingratitude to her father, who had been a father to him too, not to be false to his military honor; because he had the strength to control himself, she felt dimly how strong his passion might be. in spite of her careful avoidance of his eyes, her cold demeanor, that morning, she had marked the haggard, pale face of the young soldier to whom she had given her heart, which showed that he, too, had suffered. she watched him as he rode, superb horseman that he was, at the head of the little cavalcade. tall, straight, erect, graceful, she was glad that he rode in advance with his back to her, so that she might follow him with her eyes, her gaze unheeded by any but señora agapida, and for her she did not care. as he turned at intervals to survey his charges, to see that all were keeping closed up and in order, by furtive glances she could mark with exultation the pallor that had taken the place of the ruddy hue on the fair cheek of her lover. she could even note the black circles under the blue eyes beneath the sunny hair, so different from her own midnight crown. how this man loved her! she could see, and know, and feel. great as was her own passion, it did not outweigh his feeling. a tempest was raging in his bosom. the girl who watched him could mark the progress of the storm in the deeps of his soul, for his face told the tale of it. and, indeed, his thoughts were bitter. what must she think of him? he had been a fool. happiness had been his for the taking, and he had thrown it away. why had he not brushed de tobar out of his path, silenced the viceroy--no, not by death, but by binding him fast, and then taken the woman he loved and who loved him, for she had proved it by her utter abandonment of herself to him? those old soldiers who had served him for many years would have followed him wherever he led. the viceroy's arm was long, but they could have found a haven where they could have been together. god had made them for each other and he had refused. he had thrust her aside. he had pushed the cup of happiness from his own lips with his own hand. honor was a name, duty an abstraction, gratitude a folly. what must she think of him? there had been no reservation in her declaration of affection. for him she was willing to give up all, and though he had vowed and protested in his heart that there was nothing she could ask of him that he would not grant her, he had been able to do nothing after all. he wished it was all to do over again. now it was too late. to the chains of duty, honor, gratitude, had been added that of his plighted word. knowing his love, de tobar, his friend, had trusted him. knowing his daughter's love, the viceroy had also trusted him. he was locked with fetters, bound and sealed, helpless. and yet the temptation grew with each hour. he had suspected, he had dreamed, he had hoped, that mercedes loved him, now he was sure of it. oh, what happiness might have been his! what was this mystery about his birth? he had been picked up a baby in a deserted village outside of panama. he had been found by the young count de lara, who had led his troops to the succor of that doomed town, which, unfortunately, he had only reached after the buccaneers had departed. search had been made for his parents but without success. the viceroy finding none to claim the bright-faced baby, had given him a name and had caused him to be brought up in his own household. there was nothing in his apparel to distinguish him save the exquisite fineness and richness of the material. thrown around his neck had been a curiously wrought silver crucifix on a silver chain, and that crucifix he had worn ever since. it lay upon his breast beneath his clothing now. it was the sole object which connected him with his past. who had been his father, his mother? how had a baby so richly dressed come to be abandoned in a small obscure village outside the walls of panama, which would have escaped the ravages of the buccaneers on account of its insignificance, had it not lain directly in their backward path. they had destroyed it out of mere wantonness. and there was another thought which often came to him and caused his cheeks to burn with horror. if, as his clothing had indicated, he had been the child of wealth, did not his obscure position indicate that he was at the same time the child of shame? since he had reached man's estate he had thought of these things often and had prayed that in some way, at some time, the mystery might be solved, for the suspense was worse than any assurance, however dreadful. he had often thought with longing upon his father, his mother. this morning in the bitterness of his heart he cursed them for the situation in which he found himself. he despaired at last of ever finding out anything. what mattered it now? he might be of the proudest and most honorable lineage in new spain, a soto-mayor, a bobadilla, even a de guzman. it would advantage him nothing since he had lost mercedes. in spite of himself he groaned aloud, and the girl riding a little distance behind him heard the sound of anguish in his voice. her heart, which had been yearning toward him with increasing force, was stirred within her bosom. "ride thou here," she said suddenly to señora agapida, "i go forward to speak with captain alvarado." "but, señorita, thy father----" "is it not permitted that i speak with the captain of the soldiery who escort me?" "certainly, if i am by." "i do not choose to have it so," replied mercedes, with all the haughtiness of her father. "remain here. i will return presently." brushing her aside with an imperious wave of her hand and a threatening glance before which the poor duenna quailed, for her charge had never shown such spirit before, mercedes struck her spanish jennet with the whip she carried, passed around the intervening soldier, who courteously gave way to her, and reined in her steed by alvarado's horse. so close, indeed, was she to the captain that she almost touched him. it was good to see the light leap in his eyes, the flush come into his pale cheek as he became aware of her presence. "donna mercedes!" he cried in surprise. "is anything wrong? where is the señora agapida?" "nothing is wrong. i left her there." "shall i summon her?" "art afraid to speak to me, to a woman, alone, sir captain?" "nay, señorita, but 'tis unseemly----" "wouldst thou lesson me in manners, master soldier?" cried the girl haughtily. "god forbid, lady, but thy father----" "he laid no injunction upon me that i should not speak to you, sir. is that forbidden?" "of course not, but----" "but what, sir? it is your own weakness you fear? you were strong enough last night. have you, by chance--repented?" there was such a passionate eagerness in her voice, and such a leaping hope for an affirmative answer in the glance she bent upon him, that he could scarce sustain the shock of it. his whole soul had risen to meet hers, coming as she came. he trembled at her propinquity. the voice of the girl thrilled him as never before. the sergeant who followed them, out of respect for their confidences checked the pace of his troop horse somewhat and the two advanced some distance from him out of earshot. the unhappy duenna watched them with anxious eyes, but hesitated to attempt to join them. indeed, the way was blocked for such an indifferent horsewoman as she by the adroit manoeuvres of the sergeant. he was devoted to his young commander and he had surmised the state of affairs also. he would have had no scruples whatever in facilitating a meeting, even an elopement. the two lovers, therefore, could speak unobserved, or at least unheard by any stranger. "lady," said alvarado at last, "i am indeed afraid. you make the strong, weak. your beauty--forgive me--masters me. for god's sake, for christ, his mother, tempt me not! i can stand no more--" he burst forth with vehemence. "what troubles thee, alvarado?" she said softly. "thou--and my plighted word." "you chose honor and duty last night when you might have had me. art still in the same mind?" "señorita, this subject is forbidden." "stop!" cried the girl, "i absolve you from all injunctions of silence. i, too, am a de lara, and in my father's absence the head of the house. the duty thou hast sworn to him thou owest me. art still in the same mind as last night, i say?" "last night i was a fool!" "and this morning?" "i am a slave." "a slave to what? to whom?" "donna mercedes," he cried, turning an imploring glance upon her, "press me no further. indeed, the burden is greater than i can bear." "a slave to whom?" she went on insistently, seeing an advantage and pressing it hard. she was determined that she would have an answer. no conviction of duty or feeling of filial regard was strong enough to overwhelm love in this woman's heart. as she spoke she flashed upon him her most brilliant glance and by a deft movement of her bridle hand swerved the jennet in closer to his barb. she laid her hand upon his strong arm and bent her head close toward him. they were far from the others now and the turns of the winding road concealed them. "a slave to whom? perhaps to--me?" she whispered. "have mercy on me!" he cried. "to you? yes. but honor, duty----" "again those hateful words!" she interrupted, her dark face flushing with anger. "were i a man, loved i a woman who loved me as i--as i--as one you know, i would have seized her in spite of all the world! once she had fled to the shelter of my arms, while life beat in my heart none should tear her thence." "thy father----" "he thinks not of my happiness." "say not so, donna mercedes." "'tis true. it is a matter of convenient arrangement. two ancient names, two great fortunes cry aloud for union and they drown the voice of the heart. i am bestowed like a chattel." "don felipe----" "is an honorable gentleman, a brave one. he needs no defense at my hands. that much, at least, my father did. there is no objection to my suitor save that i do not love him." "in time--in time you may," gasped alvarado. "dost thou look within thine own heart and see a fancy so evanescent that thou speakest thus to me?" "nay, not so." "i believe thee, and were a thousand years to roll over my head thine image would still be found here." she laid her tiny gloved hand upon her breast as she spoke in a low voice, and this time she looked away from him. he would have given heaven and earth to have caught her yielding figure in his arms. she drooped in the saddle beside him in a pose which was a confession of womanly weakness and she swayed toward him as if the heart in her body cried out to that which beat in his own breast. "mercedes! mercedes!" he said, "you torture me beyond endurance! go back to your duenna, to señora agapida, i beg of you! i can stand no more! i did promise and vow in my heart--my honor--my duty----" "ay, with men it is different," said the girl, and the sound of a sob in her voice cut him to the heart, "and these things are above love, above everything. i do not--i can not understand. i can not comprehend. you have rejected me--i have offered myself to you a second time--after the refusal of last night. where is my spanish pride? where is my maidenly modesty? that reserve that should be the better part of woman is gone. i know not honor--duty--i only know that though you reject me, i am yours. i, too, am a slave. i love you. nay, i can not marry don felipe de tobar. 'twere to make a sacrilege of a sacrament." [illustration: alvarado threw his right arm around her, and with a force superhuman dragged her from the saddle.] "thy father----" "i have done my best to obey him. i can no more." "what wilt thou do?" "this!" cried the girl desperately. the road at the point they had arrived wound sharply around the spur of the mountain which rose above them thousands of feet on one side and fell abruptly away in a terrific precipice upon the other. as she spoke she struck her horse again with the whip. at the same time by a violent wrench on the bridle rein she turned him swiftly toward the open cliff. quick as she had been, however, alvarado's own movement was quicker. he struck spur into his powerful barb and with a single bound was by her side, in the very nick of time. her horse's forefeet were slipping among the loose stones on the edge. in another second they would both be over. alvarado threw his right arm around her and with a force superhuman dragged her from the saddle, at the same time forcing his own horse violently backward with his bridle hand. his instant promptness had saved her, for the frightened horse she rode, unable to control himself, plunged down the cliff and was crushed to death a thousand feet below. chapter xiii in which captain alvarado is forsworn and with donna mercedes in his arms breaks his plighted word "my god!" cried the young soldier hoarsely, straining her to his breast, while endeavoring to calm his nervous and excited horse. "what would you have done?" [illustration] "why didn't you let me go?" she asked, struggling feebly in his arms. "it would all have been over then." "i could not, i love you." the words were wrung from him in spite of himself by her deadly peril, by her desperate design which he had only frustrated by superhuman quickness and strength. he was pale, shaking, trembling, unnerved, for her. he scarce knew what he said or did, so little command had he over himself. as he spoke those words "i love you," so blissful for her to hear, she slipped her arm around his neck. it was not in mortal man to resist under such circumstances. he forgot everything--honor, duty, his word, everything he threw to the winds. before the passion which sought death when denied him his own powers of resistance vanished. he strained her to his breast and bent his head to kiss her. again and again he drank at the upturned fountain of affection, her lips. the shock had been too much for him. greater for him than for her. he had seen her upon the verge of eternity. she thought nothing of that in her present joy. she only realized that she was in his arms again, that he had kissed her, and between the kisses he poured out words that were even greater caresses. the others were far behind. they were alone upon the mountain-side with the rocks behind and the great sapphire sea of the caribbean before them. he held her close to his breast and they forgot everything but love as they gently pricked along the road. it was near noon now, and as the road a furlong farther debouched into an open plateau shaded by trees and watered by a running brook which purled down the mountain-side from some inaccessible cloud-swept height it was a fitting place to make camp, where the whole party, tired by a long morning's travel, could repose themselves until the breeze of afternoon tempered the heat of the day. here he dismounted, lifted her from horse, and they stood together, side by side. "you have saved me," she whispered, "you have drawn me back from the death that i sought. god has given me to you. we shall never be parted." "i am a false friend, an ungrateful servitor, a forsworn man, a perjured soldier!" he groaned, passing his hand over his pale brow as if to brush away the idea consequent upon his words. "but thou hast my love," she whispered tenderly, swaying toward him again. "yes--yes. would that it could crown something else than my dishonor." "say not so." she kissed him again, fain to dispel the shadow that darkened his face. "i had been faithful," he went on, as if in justification, "had i not seen thee on the brink of that cliff, and then thou wert in my arms--i was lost----" "and i was found. i leaped to death. i shut my eyes as i drove the horse toward the cliff, and i awakened to find myself in your arms--in heaven! let nothing take me hence." "it can not be," he said, "i must go to the viceroy when he returns from the orinoco war, and tell him that i have betrayed him." "i will tell him," she answered, "or wilt thou tell him what i tell thee?" she went on. "surely." "then say to him that i sought death rather than be given to don felipe or to any one else. tell him you saved me on the very brink of the cliff, and that never soldier made a better fight for field or flag than thou didst make for thy honor and duty, but that i broke thee down. i had the power, and i used it. the story is as old as eden--the woman tempted--" "i should have been stronger--i should not have weakened. but i shall fight no more--it is all over." "ah, thou canst not," she whispered, nestling closer to him. "and tell my father that should harm come to thee, if, in their anger, he or de tobar lay hand upon thee, it will not advantage their plans, for i swear, if there be no other way, i will starve myself to death to follow thee!" "i can not shelter myself behind a woman." "then i will tell them both myself," she cried. "you shall know, they shall know, how a spanish woman can love." "and thou shalt know, too," answered alvarado firmly, "that though i break my heart, i, an unknown, can expatiate his guilt with all the pride of most ancient lineage and birth highest of them all." it was a brave speech, but he did not release his hold upon mercedes and in spite of his words when, confident that whatever he might say, however he might struggle, he was hers at last, she smiled up at him again, he kissed her. "when go you to my father, señor alvarado?" she asked. "when he returns from the orinoco." "and that will not be until----" "perhaps a month." "wilt love me until then?" "i shall love thee forever." "nay, but wilt thou tell me so, with every day, every week, every hour, every moment, with kisses like to these?" "oh, tempt me not!" he whispered; but he returned again and again her caresses. "ah, my alvarado, if you have once fallen, what then? is not one kiss as bad as a thousand?" "be it so; we will be happy until that time." "one month, one month of heaven, my love, after that let come what may," she answered, her cheeks and eyes aflame, her heart throbbing with exquisite pain in her breast. they would enjoy the day, the future could take care of itself. "some one approaches!" he said at last, and at the same moment the rest of the party came around the bend of the road. the poor duenna was consumed with anxiety and remorse. "bernardo," said alvarado to the sergeant, "we will take our siesta here. unsaddle the horses and prepare the noon-day meal under the trees. send one of the troopers ahead to bid fadrique stop on the road until we rejoin him, keeping good guard. señora agapida, you must be tired from the long ride. let me assist you to dismount." "the señorita mercedes!" she asked, as he lifted her to the ground. "where is her horse?" "he slipped and fell," answered the girl promptly. "fell? madre de dios!" "yes, over the cliff. captain alvarado lifted me from the saddle just in time." "i shall make a novena of devotion to st. jago for thy preservation, sweet mercedes," cried the duenna, "and you, young sir, must have a strong arm----" "it is ever at your service," answered alvarado gravely, bowing before her. the old woman's heart went out to the gallant young man, so handsome, so brave, so strong, so distinguished looking. "why," she mused under her breath, "could he not have been the one?" by this time the little place was filled with soldiers, attendants, and muleteers. some kindled fires, others unpacked hampers loaded with provisions, others prepared a place where the party might rest, and as, to restore order out of this confusion, alvarado turned hither and thither he was followed in all his movements by the lovely eyes of the woman who had broken him, and who had won him. during the interval of repose the young man allowed his party the two lovers were constantly together. alvarado had made a faint effort to go apart and leave mercedes to herself, but with passionate determination she had refused to allow it. she had thrown prudence to the winds. careless of whoever might see, of whoever might comment, heedless of the reproving duenna, indifferent to ancient practice, reckless of curious glances, she had insisted upon accompanying the captain and he had yielded. he was doomed in his own soul to death. he intended to tell the viceroy and de tobar everything, and he had no doubt that one or the other would instantly kill him. it was a fate to which he would make no resistance. meanwhile he would enjoy the day. there was a melancholy pleasure, too, in the thought, for this morning had assured him of it, that whatever awaited him mercedes would belong to no one else. if they killed him she had sworn that she would not survive him. if they strove to force her into the arms of another, she had declared she would die rather than comply, and he believed her. other women in like circumstances might have resorted to a convent, but mercedes was not of the temperament which makes that calm harbor an inviting refuge. if she could not have alvarado, she would simply die--that was all. under the circumstances, therefore, as he had already forfeited his own esteem, he hesitated no more. indeed, before the passion of the woman he loved, who loved him, it was not possible. in her presence he could do nothing else. they abandoned themselves with all the fervor of youth and passion to their transports of affection. they wandered away from the others and by the side of the brook beneath the shelter of the trees remained together and whispered all the love that beat within their freed breasts. they might die to-morrow, to-day they lived and loved. fain would they have prolonged the elysian dream forever, but the descending sun of the afternoon at last warned alvarado, if they would reach la guayra that night, that they must resume their journey. reluctantly he gave the order to mount. this time, utterly indifferent to the señora agapida, mercedes, mounted on one of the led horses, rode openly by alvarado's side. sustained by his presence, constantly in touch with him, she made the way down the difficult wanderings of the rocky mountain trail. they watched the sun set in all its glory over the tropic sea. the evening breeze blew softly about them riding side by side. then the night fell upon them. over them blazed the glorious canopy of the tropic stars, chief among them the fiery southern cross, emblem of the faith they cherished, the most marvelous diadem in the heavens. there below them twinkled the lights of la guayra. the road grew broader and smoother now. it was almost at the level of the beach. they would have to pass through the town presently, and thence up a steep rocky road which wound around the mountain until they surmounted the cliff back of the city and arrived at the palace of the governor upon the hillside, where mercedes was to lodge. an hour, at least, would bring them to their destination now. there was nothing to apprehend. the brigands in the fastnesses of the mountains or the savages, who sometimes strayed along the road, never ventured so near the town. fadrique, by alvarado's orders, had fallen back nearer the main body so as to be within call. "we shall be there in a little while. see yonder, the lights of the town," said the captain. "while thou art with me," said the girl, "it matters little where we are. there are but two places in the world now----" "and those are----?" "where thou art and where thou art not. if i may only be with thee, if we may be together, i want nothing else." she had scarcely spoken before the sound of a cry followed by a shot broke on the night. book iv in which is related an account of the taking of la guayra by the buccaneers and the dreadful perils of donna mercedes de lara and captain alvarado in that city chapter xiv wherein the crew of the galleon intercepts the two lovers by the way the terrific impact of the huge ship on the sand among the breakers which thundered and beat upon her sides with overwhelming force came just in the nick of time for morgan. had the disaster been delayed a second longer the furious buccaneers would have cut him down where he stood. even the officers were angered beyond measure at him for their present situation, which threatened the loss of the vast treasure already gained in the ship, although they had consented to morgan's proposition to attack la guayra and caracas, and the captain was in no way responsible for the storm and the wreck which jeoparded their booty and their future. therefore it is probable that none of them, unless it were teach, would have interfered to save morgan, and he would have been swept from his feet by the savage men and instantly killed, in spite of all that he, or carib, or any one else could have done. but the violence of the shock when the ship took ground threw them to the deck, and they forgot for the instant their bloody purpose of vengeance in the inevitableness of their approaching danger; they were checked in their mad anger for a few seconds and given a moment for reflection, that moment convinced them that they could not yet dispense with the services of their captain. with black rage and white fear striving for mastery in their hearts, they rose to their feet and faced him with menacing faces and threatening gestures. "what's to be done now?" questioned one bolder than the rest. "now's the time," roared the undaunted morgan, striving to make himself heard by all above the thundering seas, "to show your courage, lads!" he had quickly observed that the force with which she had been driven on the shoals had shoved the galleon's nose firmly in the sand. she had been caught just before she took ground by a tremendous roller and had been lifted up and hurled far over to starboard. although almost on her beam ends, her decks inclining landward, the strongly-built ship held steady in spite of the tremendous onslaughts of the seas along her bilge. "take heart, men!" he cried. "observe. she lies still and secure. 'tis a stout hulk and will take a tremendous battering before she breaks. we may yet save ourselves." "and the treasure?" roared one. "ay, and the treasure." "i think the storm has about blown itself out," interposed old hornigold, shouting out at this instant. "look you, mates," he cried, pointing to westward, "it clears! the sun'll set fair to-night." "the bo's'n is right," cried morgan. "but first of all we must take no chances with our lives. even though we lose the ship we can seize another. the world is full of treasure and we can find it. now i want some one to carry a line ashore through the breakers. who will volunteer?" "i," said carib instantly. "i need you here," answered morgan, who did not purpose to be deprived of that bodyguard upon whose watchfulness his life had so often depended. "i'll go," exclaimed young teach, breaking through the crowd. "that's a brave heart!" said morgan. "a line here!" instantly a light line was forthcoming. teach tore off his jacket, laid aside his weapons, kicked off his shoes, took a turn of the line around his waist, made it fast, wrung morgan's hand, watched his chance, leaped overboard, was caught by an onrushing wave and carried far toward the shore. the ebb of the roller carried him back seaward some distance, but he swam forward madly, and the next wave brought him a little nearer the beach. he was driven backward and forward, but each time managed to get a little nearer the shore line. the whole ship's company stared after him, spontaneously cheering and yelling cries of encouragement in spite of the fact that he could not hear a single sound in the roaring, raging seas. morgan himself tended the line, skilfully paying it out when necessary. in a few moments, although the time seemed hours to the watchers, the feet of teach touched the shore, and although the terrific undertow of the wave that had dropped him there almost bore him back again, yet by a superhuman exertion he managed to stagger forward, and the next moment they saw him fall prostrate on the sand. had he fainted or given way? they looked at him with bated breath but after a little space they saw him rise slowly to his feet and stagger inland toward a low point where a lofty palm tree was writhing and twisting in the fierce wind. he was too good a seaman not instantly to see what was required of him, for, waving his hand toward the ship he at once began to haul in the line. ready hands had bent a larger rope to it, which was succeeded by a third, strong enough to bear a man's weight. the buccaneer hauled this last in with great difficulty, for the distance was far and the wet rope was heavy. he climbed up and made it fast to the tree and then waited. as soon as he had done so there was a rush on the ship for the line which had been made fast inboard temporarily. morgan, however, interposed between the crew and the coveted way to safety. "back!" he shouted. "one at a time, and the order as i appoint! you, l'ollonois, and you, and you," he cried, indicating certain men upon whom he could depend. "go in succession. then haul a heavier rope ashore. we'll put a traveler with a bo's'n's chair on it, and send these nuns and the priests first of all." "do we have to wait for a lot of wimmin and papists?" growled one man among the frightened rascals. "you have to wait until the ship breaks up beneath your feet, if it is my pleasure," said morgan, coolly, and they slunk back again, cowed. he was master of the situation once more. there was something about that man that enforced obedience, whether they would or no. his orders were promptly obeyed and intelligently carried out by l'ollonois and his men, who first went ashore. a heavy hawser was dragged through the surf and made fast high up on the sturdy palm tree. on it they rigged a traveler and the chair, and then the frightened nuns were brought forward from the cabin. the women were sick with apprehension. they knew, of course, that the ship had struck, and they had been expecting instant death. their prayers had been rudely interrupted by morgan's messenger, and when they came out on deck in that stern tempest, amid that body of wild, ruthless men, their hearts sank within them. at the sight of those human fiends they would fain have welcomed that watery grave from which they had just been imploring god to save them. when they discovered that their only means of safety lay in making that perilous passage through the waters which overwhelmed the bight of rope in which hung the boatswain's chair, they counted themselves as dead. indeed, they would have refused to go had it not been for the calm and heroic resolution of the abbess, their leader, sister maria christina, who strove to assuage their fears. "hornigold," said morgan, "are you still faithful to me in this crisis?" "i shall obey you in all things--now," answered the boatswain. "swear it." "by the old buccaneer faith," said the one-eyed, again adding the significant adverb, "now." for a wonder, the captain paid no attention to the emphasis on the word, "now." "can you keep your pistols dry?" "i can wrap them in oilskin and thrust them in my jacket." "go to the shore, then," said morgan, "and receive these women. march them away from the men to yonder clump of palms, and guard them as you would your life. if any man approach you or them for any purpose, shoot him dead without a word. i'll see that the others have no weapons. d'ye understand?" "ay, and shall obey." "go!" the boatswain swung himself into the chair and the men on the other end of the traveler pulled him to the other shore, none the worse for his wetting. he opened his jacket, found the weapons dry, and waved his hand as a sign to morgan that he was all right. "which of you women will go first?" asked morgan. he turned instinctively to the tall abbess, towering among her shrinking sisters. she indicated first one and then another among the poor captives, and as they refused, she turned to morgan and, with a grave dignity, said in spanish, of which he was a master, that she would go first to show the way, and then the others would be in better heart to follow. she sat down on the boatswain's chair--which, was simply a bit of wood held like the seat of a swing in a triangle of rope--made the sign of the cross, and waved her hand. she was hauled ashore in an instant with nothing worse to complain of than a drenching by the waves. by hornigold's direction she walked past him toward the clump of palms which morgan had indicated. one after another of the women were sent forward until the whole party was ashore. then the spanish priests took their turn, and after these reached the sand the rest of the crew were sent ashore. morgan was careful to indicate each one's turn, so that he preserved a balance between the more reputable and the more degraded members of the crew, both on ship and shore. among the last to go were the maroon and de lussan, each armed as hornigold had been. they had both received instructions, one to station himself at the palm tree, the other to cover the hawser where it ran along the shore before it entered the water. these precautionary orders which he had given were necessary, for when the last man had been hauled ashore and morgan stepped into the chair for his turn, one of the infuriated buccaneers, watching his chance, seized his jack-knife, the only weapon that he had, for morgan had been careful to make the men leave their arms on the ship, and made a rush for the rope to cut it and leave the captain to his fate. but de lussan shot him dead, and before the others could make a move morgan stepped safely on the sand. "that was well done," he cried, turning to the frenchman. "ah, mon capitaine," answered the other, "it was not from affection, but because you are necessary to us." "whatever it may be," returned the old man, "i owe much to you and scuttle me, i'll not forget it." the frenchman, indifferent to morgan's expressions of gratitude, shrugged his shoulders, turned away, and made no reply. the transportation of so many people across the slender line had taken a long time. the sun, just beginning to break through the riven clouds, was near its setting; night would soon be upon them. they must hurry with what was yet to be done. morgan sent teach and the brazilian back to the ship with instructions to gather up enough weapons to arm the crew and to send them ashore. this was promptly done. indeed, communication was not difficult now that the force of the gale was abating. the ship had been badly battered but still held together, and would hold unless the storm came up again. as the arms came ashore morgan served them out to those men whom he considered most reliable; and, after throwing out a strong guard around the band, the rest sought shelter around huge driftwood fires which had been kindled by the use of flint and steel. there was hardly a possibility they would be observed in that deserted land, but still it was wise to take precaution. morgan ordered the women and priests to be double-guarded by the trustiest, and it was well that he did so. he gave old hornigold particular charge of them. the buccaneers were hungry and thirsty, but they were forced to do without everything until morning when they could get all they wanted from the ship. so they tightened their belts and disposed themselves about the fires as best they could to get what rest they might. [illustration: but de lussan shot him dead, and before the others could make a move, morgan stepped safely on the sand.] morgan and the officers drew apart and consulted long and earnestly over the situation. they could never make the ship seaworthy again. to build a smaller one out of her timbers would be the work of months and when it was finished it could not possibly carry the whole crew. to march westward toward the isthmus meant to encounter terrific hardships for days; their presence would speedily become known, and they would be constantly menaced or attacked by troops from the heavily garrisoned places like porto bello and carthagena. back of them a short distance away lay la guayra. it could be taken by surprise, morgan urged, and easily captured. if they started to march westward the indians would apprise the spaniards of their presence, and they would have to fight their way to the pacific. if they took la guayra, then the viceroy, with the treasure of his palace and the opulent city of caracas would be at their mercy. they could ravage the two towns, seize the first ship that came to the roadstead, and make their way to the isthmus safely and speedily. as to the treasure on the galleon, the buccaneer captain proposed to unload it and bury it in the sand, and after they had captured la guayra it would be easy to get it back again. morgan's counsel prevailed, and his was the resolution to which they came. the council of war broke up thereafter, and those not told off to watch with the guards went to sleep near the fires. morgan, under the guardianship of the faithful black dog, threw himself upon the ground to catch a few hours' rest. the next morning the wind had died away and the sea was fairly calm. the men swam out to the galleon, found her still intact though badly strained, and by means of boats and rafts, working with persistent energy, succeeded in landing and burying the treasure under the very palm tree which held the rope that had given them salvation. morgan's plan was an excellent one, the best that could be suggested in the straits they then were, and it received the hearty assent of all the men. it took them all day to land the treasure and make their other preparations, which included the manufacture of several rude scaling ladders, pieces of timber with cross pieces nailed upon them, which could be used in surmounting the walls of the town. in the evening the order of march was arranged and their departure set for the morrow. they had saved their treasure, they had food in plenty now, and with dry clothes and much rum they began to take a more cheerful view of life. they were fairly content once more. the next day, in the afternoon, for he desired to approach the town at nightfall, morgan gave the order to advance. he was as much of a soldier as a sailor and sent ahead a party of choice spirits under teach, while the main body followed some distance behind. as the shades of evening descended a messenger from the advance guard came back with the news that a party of travelers had been seen coming down the mountain; that they comprised a half-dozen troopers, a number of slaves, a heavily laden pack train, and two women. teach had stationed his men under the trees at a bend of the road around which the travelers had to pass, and he awaited morgan's orders. taking a detachment of the most reliable men with velsers and hornigold, and bidding the other officers and men to stand where they were until he sent word, morgan and those with him ran rapidly forward until they came to the ambuscade which young teach had artfully prepared. he and his had scarcely time to dispose themselves for concealment before a soldier came riding carelessly down the road. waiting until the man had passed him a short distance and until the other unsuspicious travelers were fairly abreast the liers-in-wait, whom he had charged on no account to move until he gave the word, morgan stepped out into the open and called. the buccaneers instantly followed him. as the soldier saw these fierce looking men spring before him out of the darkness, he cried aloud. the next moment he was shot dead by morgan himself. at the same instant a volley rang out at contact range, and every man in the party fell to the ground. some were killed, others only wounded; all of them except alvarado were injured in some way. he struck spurs into his horse when he heard the cry of fadrique and the shot. the surprised barb plunged forward, was hit by half a dozen bullets, fell to the ground in a heap, and threw his rider over his head. the spaniard scrambled to his feet, whipped out his sword, lunged forward and drove his blade into the breast of old velsers. the next instant a dozen weapons flashed over his head. one rang upon his steel casque, another crashed against the polished breastplate that he wore. he cut out again in the darkness, and once more fleshed his weapon. women's screams rose above the tumult. beating back the swords which menaced him, although he was reeling from the blows which he had received, alvarado strove to make his way toward donna mercedes, when he was seized in the darkness from behind. "kill him!" cried a voice in english, which alvarado and mercedes both understood perfectly. "he's the only one alive." "nay," cried another voice, stronger and sterner, "save him; we'll question him later. did any escape?" "not one." "are there any horses alive?" "two or three." "bring them hither. now back to the rest. then we can show a light and see what we have captured. teach, lead on. let no harm come to the women." "ay, ay," answered another voice out of the darkness, and a third voice growled out: "hadn't we better make sure that none are alive to tell the tale?" "of course; a knife for the wounded," answered the stern voice, "and bear a hand." greatly surprised and unable to comprehend anything but that his men had been slaughtered and no harm had as yet befallen his charges, alvarado, whose arms had been bound to his side, found himself dragged along in the wake of his captors, one or two of whom mounted on the unwounded horses, with the two women between them, rode rapidly down the road. chapter xv tells how mercedes de lara returned the unsought caress of sir henry morgan, and the means by which the buccaneers surmounted the walls one hundred yards or so beyond the place of the ambush the road dropped sharply over the last low cliff to the narrow strand which led to the west wall of la guayra, distant a half a mile away. they had all been under the deep shadow of the thick trees overhanging the way until this instant, but in the faint light cast by the moon just risen, alvarado could see that a great body of people were congregated before him on the road. who they were and what they were he could not surmise. he was not long left in doubt, however, for the same voice whose commanding tones had caused his life to be spared, now called for lights. the demand was obeyed with a promptness that bespoke fear indeed, or discipline of the sternest, and soon the captives found themselves in a circle of lurid light sent forth by a number of blazing torches. the illumination revealed to alvarado as villainous and terrible-looking a body of men as he had ever seen. the first glance convinced him that they were not spanish brigands or robbers. he was too young to have had dealings with the buccaneers of the past generation, but he realized that if any such remained on this side of the earth, they must be like these men who surrounded him. he wasted no time in surmises, however, for after the first swift comprehensive glance his eyes sought mercedes. she sat her horse free and uninjured apparently, for which he thanked god. she was leaning forward over her saddle and staring in bewilderment and surprise at the scene and confusion before her. "donna mercedes," cried alvarado, turning himself about, in spite of his bonds and the restraint his immediate captors endeavored to put upon him, "are you safe--unhurt?" "safe," answered the girl, "and thou?" "well, but for these bonds." "god be thanked! who are these men?" "i know not, but----" "oh, sir," interrupted señora agapida, recovering her voice at the sound of the spanish tongue, "for christ's sake, what does this mean? save us!" "señora," said that same sharp voice, but this time speaking in the spanish tongue, as a tall man, hat in hand, urged his horse forward, "fear nothing, you shall be protected. and you, señorita. do i not have the honor of addressing donna mercedes de lara?" "that is my name," answered the girl, haughtily. "who are you? why have you shot my people and seized me prisoner?" "for love of you, mistress mercedes." "just heaven! who are you, i say!" cried the girl at this startling answer, turning in surprise and terror to look upon his countenance. there was something familiar in the man's face that called up a vague recollection which she strove to master. "who are you?" she cried again. "sir harry morgan!" answered the horseman, bowing low over the saddle, "a free sailor at your service, ma'am." "my god!" cried alvarado, who had listened attentively, "the buccaneer?" "the same," answered morgan turning to him. "sir harry morgan! were you not governor of jamaica last year?" asked mercedes in astonishment. "i had that honor, lady." "why are you now in arms against us?" "a new king, mistress de lara, sits the english throne. he likes me not. i and these gallant seamen are going to establish a kingdom in some sweet island in the south seas, with our good swords. i would fain have a woman to bear me company on the throne. since i saw you in jamaica last year, i have designed you for the honor----" "monster!" screamed the girl, appalled by the hideous leer which accompanied his words. "rather anything----" "sir," interrupted alvarado, "you are an englishman. your past rank should warrant you a gentleman, but for this. there is no war between england and spain. what is the meaning of this outrage? this lady is the daughter of the viceroy of venezuela. i am his captain and the commandante of yonder city of la guayra. you have waylaid us, taken us at a disadvantage. my men are killed. for this assault his excellency will exact bloody reparation. meanwhile give order that we be unbound, and let us pass." "ho, ho!" laughed the buccaneer. "think you i fear the viceroy? nay, not his majesty of spain himself! i came here with set purpose to take la guayra and then caracas, and to bear away with me this pretty lady upon whom, i repeat, i design to bestow the honor of my name." as he spoke he leaned toward mercedes, threw his arm around her waist, and before she was even aware of her intention, kissed her roughly on the cheek. "lads," he cried, "three cheers for the future lady morgan!" the proud spanish girl turned white as death under this insult. her eyes flashed like coals of fire. morgan was close beside her. she was without weapon save a jeweled whip that hung at her wrist. before the first note of a cheer could break from the lips of the men she lifted it and struck him violently again and again full in the face. "thou devil!" cried the captain in fury, whipping out his sword and menacing her with it. "strike!" cried mercedes bravely, "and let my blood wash out the insult that you have put upon my cheek." she raised her whip once more, but this time young teach, coming on the other side, caught her hand, wrested the jeweled toy from her, and broke it in the struggle. "thou shalt pay dearly for those stripes, lady!" roared morgan, swerving closer to her. "and not now in honorable wedlock----" "i will die first!" returned mercedes. alvarado, meanwhile, had been struggling desperately to free himself. by the exercise of superhuman strength, just as morgan again menaced the woman he loved, he succeeded in freeing himself from his loosely-tied bonds. his guards for the moment had their attention distracted from him by the group on horseback. he wrenched a sword from the hand of one, striking him a blow with his naked fist that sent him reeling as he did so, and then flung out his other arm so that the heavy pommel of the sword struck the second guard in the face, and the way was clear for the moment. he sprang forward instantly, seized morgan's horse, forced him away from mercedes by a wrench of his powerful arm, and stood at bay in front of the woman he loved. he said no word but stood with his sword up on guard, panting heavily from his fierce exertions. "alvarado, you will be killed!" screamed the girl, seeing the others make for him. "here we have it," sneered morgan. "this is the secret of your refusal. he is your lover." "seize him!" cried teach, raising his sword, as followed by the others he made at alvarado, who awaited them undaunted. "stay!" shouted de lussan, "there is a better way." rudely shoving señora agapida aside, he seized mercedes from behind. "do not move, mademoiselle," he said in french, in his excitement, which fortunately she understood. "that's well done!" cried morgan, "captain alvarado, if that be your name, throw down your sword if you would save the lady's life." "mind me not, alvarado," cried mercedes, but alvarado, perceiving the situation, instantly dropped his weapon. "now seize him and bind him again! and you, dogs!" morgan added, turning to the men who had allowed the prisoner to slip before, "if he escape you again you shall be hanged to the nearest tree!" "hadst not better bind the woman, too?" queried the frenchman gently, still holding her fast in his fierce grasp. "ay, the wench as well. oh, i'll break your spirit, my pretty one," answered morgan savagely, flipping the young woman's cheek. "wilt pay me blows for kisses? scuttle me, you shall crawl at my feet before i've finished with you!" "why not kill this caballero out of hand, captain?" asked hornigold, savage from a slight wound, as he limped up to morgan. "no, i have use for him. are the rest silent?" "they will tell no tales," laughed l'ollonois grimly. "did none escape back up the road?" "none, sir henry," answered the other. "my men closed in after them and drove them forward. they are all gone." "that's well. now, for la guayra. what force is there, señor capitan?" alvarado remained obstinately silent. he did not speak even when morgan ruthlessly cut him across the cheek with his dagger. he did not utter a sound, although mercedes groaned in anguish at the sight of his torture. "you'd best kill him, captain," said l'ollonois. "no, i have need for him, i say," answered morgan, giving over the attempt to make him speak. "is any one here who has been at la guayra recently?" he asked of the others. "i was there last year on a trading ship of france," answered sawkins. "what garrison then?" "about two hundred and fifty." "was it well fortified?" "as of old, sir, by the forts on either side and a rampart along the sea wall." "were the forts in good repair?" "well kept indeed, but most of the guns bore seaward." "have you the ladders ready?" cried morgan to braziliano, who had been charged to convey the rude scaling ladders by which they hoped to get over the walls. "all ready, captain," answered that worthy. "let us go forward then. we'll halt just out of musket-shot and concert our further plans. we have the governor in our hands, lads. the rest will be easy. there is plenty of plunder in la guayra, and when we have made it our own we'll over the mountains and into caracas. hornigold, you are lame from a wound, look to the prisoners." "to la guayra! to la guayra!" enthusiastically shouted the men, taking up the line of march. the rising moon flooding the white strand made the scene as light as day. they kept good watch on the walls of la guayra, for the sound of the shots in the night air had been heard by some keen-eared sentry, and as a result the garrison had been called to arms. the firing had been too heavy to be accounted for by any ordinary circumstances, and officers and soldiers had been at a loss to understand it. however, to take precautions were wise, and every preparation was made as if against an immediate attack. the drums were beaten; the ramparts were manned; the guns were primed, and such of the townspeople as were not too timid to bear arms were assembled under their militia officers. the watchers on the west wall of the fort were soon aware of the approach of the buccaneers. indeed, they made no concealment whatever about their motions. who they were and what they were the garrison had not discovered and could not imagine. a prompt and well-aimed volley, however, as soon as the buccaneers came within range apprised them that they were dealing with enemies, and determined enemies at that. under cover of the confusion caused by this unexpected discharge, morgan deployed his men. "lads," he said, "we'll board yon fort with a rush and a cheer. the ladders will be placed on the walls, and under cover of a heavy fire from our musketry we'll go over them. use only the cutlass when you gain the parapet and ply like men. remember what's on the other side!" "ay, but who'll plant the ladders?" asked one. "the priests and women," said morgan grimly. "i saved them for that." a roar of laughter and cheers broke from the ruffianly gang as they appreciated the neatness of the old buccaneer's scheme. "'tis an old trick," he continued; "we did the same thing thirty years since at porto bello. eh, hornigold? how's that leg of yours?" "stiff and sore." "bide here then with the musketeers. teach, you shall take the walls under the cliff yonder. l'ollonois, lead your men straight at the fort. de lussan, let the curtain between be your point. i shall be with the first to get over. now, charge your pieces all, and hornigold, after we have started, by slow and careful fire do you keep the spaniards down until you hear us cheer. after that, hold your fire." "but i should like to be in the first rank myself, master," growled the old boatswain. "ha, ha!" laughed morgan, "that's a right spirit, lad, but that cut leg holds you back, for which you have to thank this gentleman," bowing toward alvarado with a hideous countenance. "you can be of service here. watch the musketeers. we would have no firing into our backs. now bring up the women and priests. and, hornigold, watch señorita de lara. see that she does not escape. on your life, man; i'd rather hold her safe," he muttered under his breath, "than take the whole city of caracas." with shouts of fiendish glee the buccaneers drove the hapless nuns and priests, who had been dragged along in the rear, to the front. the spaniards were firing at them now, but with no effect so far. the distance was great and the moonlight made aim uncertain, and every time a head showed itself over the battlement it became a target for the fire of the musketeers, who, by hornigold's orders, ran forward under the black shadow cast by the high cliff, where they could not be seen, and from this point of concealment, taking deliberate aim, made havoc among the defenders. "now, good fathers and sisters," began morgan, "you have doubtless been curious to know why you were not put to death. i saved you--not because i loved you, but because i needed you. i had a purpose in view; that purpose is now apparent." "what would you with us, señor?" asked sister maria christina, the abbess, stepping out in front of her sisters. "a little service, my sister. bring up the ladders, men. see, there are seven all told. that will be four ladies apiece to four ladders; and here are seven priests, which allows two to each of the three remaining ladders, with one priest and one sister over for good measure, and to take the place of any that may be struck down." "and what are we to do with them, señor?" asked fra antonio de las casas, drawing nearer to the captain. "you are to carry them to yonder wall and place them against it." "you do not mean," burst out alvarado painfully, for he could scarcely speak from his wounded cheek, "to make these holy women bear the brunt of that fire from the fort, and the good priests as well?" "do i value the lives of women and priests, accursed spaniard, more than our own?" questioned the captain, and the congenial sentiment was received by a yell of approval from the men. "but if you are tender-hearted, i'll give the defenders a chance. will you advise them to yield and thus spare these women?" "i can not do that," answered alvarado sadly. "'tis their duty to defend the town. there are twenty women here, there are five hundred there." "d'ye hear that, mates?" cried morgan. "up with the ladders!" "but what if we refuse?" cried the abbess. "you shall be given over to the men," answered morgan, ferociously, "whereas, if you do as i order, you may go free; those who are left alive after the storm. do ye hear, men? we'll let them go after they have served us," continued the chief turning to his men. "swear that you will let them go! there are others in la guayra." "we swear, we swear!" shouted one after another, lifting their hands and brandishing their weapons. "you hear!" cried morgan. "pick up the ladders!" "for god's sake, sir----" began maria christina. "i know no god," interrupted morgan. "you had a mother--a wife once--perhaps children, señor capitan. unsay your words! we can not place the ladders which will give you access to yonder helpless town." "then to the men you go!" cried morgan ruthlessly. "forward here, two or three of you, take this woman! she chooses----" "death----" cried the abbess, snatching a dagger from the nearest hand and driving it into her breast, "rather than dishonor!" she held herself proudly erect for a moment, swayed back and forth, and then fell prostrate upon the sand, the blood staining her white robe about the hilt of the poniard. she writhed and shuddered in agony where she lay, striving to say something. fra antonio sprang to her side, and before any one could interfere knelt down. "i--i--i have sinned," she gasped. "mercy, mercy!" "thou hast done well, i absolve thee!" cried the priest, making the sign of the cross upon her forehead. "death and fury!" shouted morgan, livid with rage. "let her die unshriven! shall i be balked thus?" he sprang toward the old man stooping over the woman, and struck him across his shaven crown with the blade of his sword. the priest pitched down instantly upon the body of the abbess, a long shudder running through him. then he lay still. "harry morgan's way!" cried the buccaneer, recovering his blade. "and you?" turning toward the other women. "have you had lesson enough? pick up those ladders, or by hell----" "mercy, mercy!" screamed the frightened nuns. "not another word! drive them forward, men!" the buccaneers sprang at the terrified women and priests, some with weapons out, others with leers and outstretched arms. first one and then another gave way. the only leadership among the sisters and priests lay upon the sand there. what could they do? they picked up the ladders and, urged forward by threats and shouts of the buccaneers under cover of a furious discharge from hornigold's musketeers, they ran to the walls imploring the spaniards not to fire upon them. when the spanish commander perceived who were approaching, with a mistaken impulse of mercy he ordered his men to fire over their heads, and so did little danger to the approaching buccaneers. a few of them fell, but the rest dashed into the smoke. there was no time for another discharge. the ladders were placed against the walls, and priests and nuns were ruthlessly cast aside and trampled down. in a little space the marauders were upon the ramparts fighting like demons. morgan, covered by black dog, with teach, de lussan, and l'ollonois, was in the lead. truth to tell, the captain was never backward when fighting was going on. the desperate onslaught of their overwhelming numbers, once they had gained a foothold, swept the defenders before them like chaff. waiting for nothing, they sprang down from the fort and raced madly through the narrow streets of the town. they brushed opposition away as leaves are driven aside by a winter storm. ere the defenders on the east forts could realize their presence, they were upon them, also. in half an hour every man bearing a weapon had been cut down. the town was at the mercy of this horde of human tigers. they broke open wine cellars; they pillaged the provision shops; they tortured without mercy the merchants and inhabitants to force them to discover their treasures, and they insulted and outraged the helpless women. they were completely beyond control now; drunk with slaughter, intoxicated with liquor, mad with lust, they ravaged and plundered. to add to the confusion, fire burst forth here and there, and before the morning dawned half of the city was in ashes. the pale moon looked down upon a scene of horror such as it had never before shone upon, even in the palmiest days of the buccaneers. chapter xvi in which benjamin hornigold recognizes a cross, and captain alvarado finds and loses a mother on the strand the musketeers under hornigold, chosen for their mastery with the weapon, had played their parts with cunning skill. [illustration] concealed from observation by the deep shadow of the cliffs, and therefore immune from the enemy's fire, they had made targets of the spaniards on the walls, and by a close, rapid, and well-directed discharge, had kept down the return of the garrison until the very moment of the assault. hornigold was able to keep them in hand for a little space after the capture of the town, but the thought of the pleasure being enjoyed by their comrades was too much for them. anxious to take a hand in the hideous fray, they stole away one by one, slinking under the cliff until they were beyond the reach of the boatswain, then boldly rushing for the town in the open, until the old sailor was left with only a half-dozen of the most dependable surrounding himself and prisoners. the rest would not have got away from him so easily had he not been so intensely occupied that at first he had taken little note of what was going on. mercedes and alvarado had only opportunity to exchange a word now and then, for extended conversation was prevented by the guards. alvarado strove to cheer the woman he loved, and she promised him she would choose instant death rather than dishonor. he could give her little encouragement of rescue, for unless word of their plight were carried to the viceroy immediately, he would be far on the way to the orinoco country before any tidings could reach him, and by the time he returned it would be too late. again and again alvarado strove to break his bonds, in impotent and helpless fury, but this time he was securely bound and his captors only laughed at his struggles. in the midst of their grief and despair they both took notice of the poor abbess. fra antonio had not moved since morgan had stricken him down, but there was life still in the woman, for, from where they stood, some distance back, the two lovers each marked her convulsive trembling. the sight appealed profoundly to them in spite of their perilous situation. "the brave sister lives," whispered mercedes. "'tis so," answered alvarado. "señor," he called, "the sister yonder is alive. wilt not allow us to minister to her?" "nay," said hornigold brusquely, "i will go myself. back, all of ye!" he added. "she may wish to confess to me in default of the worthy father." he leered hideously as he spoke. "coward!" cried alvarado, but his words affected hornigold not at all. before he could say another word the guards forced him rudely back with the two women. the worthy señora agapida by this time was in a state of complete and total collapse, but mercedes bore herself--her lover marked with pleasure--as proudly and as resolutely as if she still stood within her father's palace surrounded by men who loved her and who would die for her. rolling the body of the prostrate old man aside, hornigold knelt down on the white sand by the form of the sister. the moonlight shone full upon her face, and as he stooped over he scanned it with his one eye. a sudden flash of recognition came to him. with a muttered oath of surprise he looked again. "it can't be!" he exclaimed, "and yet----" after fra antonio's brave attempt at absolution, the woman had fainted. now she opened her eyes, although she was not yet fully conscious. "water!" she gasped feebly, and as it chanced the boatswain had a small bottle of the precious fluid hanging from a strap over his shoulder. there was no pity in the heart of the pirate, he would have allowed the woman to die gasping for water without giving her a second thought, but when he recognized her--or thought he did--there instantly sprang into his mind a desire to make sure. if she were the person he thought her she might have information of value. unslinging the bottle and pulling out the cork, he placed it to her lips. "i--die," she murmured in a stronger voice. "a priest." "there is none here," answered the boatswain. "fra antonio--he absolved you." "where is he?" "dead, yonder." "but i must confess." "confess to me," chuckled the old man in ghastly mockery. "many a woman has done so and----" "art in holy orders, señor?" muttered the woman. [illustration: the moonlight shone full upon her face, and as he stooped over he scanned it with his one eye.] "holy enough for you. say on." "fra antonio, now," she continued, vacantly lapsing into semi-delirium, "he married us--'twas a secret--his rank was so great. he was rich, i poor--humble. the marriage lines--in the cross. there was a--what's that? a shot? the buccaneers. they are coming! go not, francisco!" hornigold, bending an attentive ear to these broken sentences lost not a word. "go not," she whispered, striving to lift an arm, "they will kill thee! thou shalt not leave me alone, my francisco--the boy--in panama----" it was evident to the sailor that the poor woman's mind had gone back to the dreadful days of the sack of panama. he was right then, it was she. "the boy--save him, save him!" she cried suddenly with astonishing vigor. the sound of her own voice seemed to recall her to herself. she stopped, her eyes lost their wild glare and fixed themselves upon the man above her, his own face in the shadow as hers was in the light. "is it panama?" she asked. "those screams--the shots--" she turned her head toward the city. "the flames--is it panama?" "nay," answered the one-eyed fiercely. "'tis twenty-five years since then, and more. yonder city is la guayra. this is the coast of venezuela." "oh--the doomed town--i remember--now--i stabbed myself rather than--place the ladders. who art thou, señor?" "benjamin hornigold!" cried the man fiercely, bending his face to hers. for a second the woman stared at him. then, recognizing him, she screamed horribly, raising herself upon her arm. "hornigold!" she cried. "what have you done with the child?" "i left him at cuchillo, outside the walls," answered the man. "and the cross?" "on his breast. the captain----" "the marriage lines were there. you betrayed me. may god's curse--nay, i die. for christ's sake--i forgive--francisco, francisco." she fell back gasping on the sand. he tore the enclosing coif from her face. in a vain effort to hold back death's hand for another second, hornigold snatched a spirit flask from his belt and strove to force a drop between her lips. it was too late. she was gone. he knew the signs too well. he laid her back on the sand, exclaiming: "curse her! why couldn't she have lived a moment longer? the captain's brat--and she might have told me. bring up the prisoners!" he cried to the guards, who had moved them out of earshot of this strange conversation. "the cross," he muttered, "the marriage lines therein. the only clew. and yet she cried 'francisco.' that was the name. who is he? if i could find that cross. i'd know it among a thousand. hither," he called to the prisoners slowly approaching. "the good sister?" queried alvarado. "dead." as the young soldier, with an ejaculation of pity, bent forward in the moonlight to look upon the face of the dead woman, from his torn doublet a silver crucifix suddenly swung before the eyes of the old buccaneer. "by heaven!" he cried. "'tis the cross." he stepped nearer to alvarado, seized the carven crucifix, and lifted it to the light. "i could swear it was the same," he muttered. "señor, your name and rank?" "i can not conceive that either concerns a bloodthirsty ruffian like----" "stop! perhaps there is more in this than thou thinkest," said mercedes. "tell him, alvarado. it can do no harm. oh, señor, have pity on us! unbind me," she added, "i give you my word. i wish but to pay my respect to the woman yonder." "she gives good counsel, soldier," answered the boatswain. "cut her lashing," he said to the sailor who guarded them. as the buccaneer did so, mercedes sank on her knees by the side of the dead woman. "now, sir, your name?" asked hornigold again. "alvarado." "where got you that name?" "it was given me by his excellency, the viceroy." "and wherefore?" there was something so tremendous in hornigold's interest that in spite of himself the young man felt compelled to answer. "it was his pleasure." "had you not a name of your own?" "none that i know of." "what mean you?" "i was found, a baby, outside the walls of panama in a little village. the viceroy adopted me and brought me up. that is all." "when was this?" asked hornigold. "after the sack of panama. and the name of the village was----" "cuchillo----" interrupted hornigold triumphantly. "my god, señor, how know you that?" "i was there." "you were there?" cried the young man. "ay." "for love of heaven, can you tell me who i am, what i am?" "in good time, young sir, and for a price. at present i know but one thing." "that is----" "there lies your mother," answered the buccaneer slowly, pointing to the white figure on the sand. "my mother! madre de dios!" cried alvarado, stepping forward and looking down upon the upturned face with its closely cut white hair, showing beautiful in the moonlight. "god rest her soul, she hath a lovely face and died in defence of her honor like the gentlewoman she should be. my mother--how know you this?" "in the sack of panama a woman gave me a male child, and for money i agreed to take it and leave it in a safe and secluded spot outside the city walls. i carried it at the hazard of my life as far as cuchillo and there left it." "but how know you that the child you left is i?" "around the baby's neck the mother, ere she gave him to me, placed this curious cross you wear. 'tis of such cunning workmanship that there is naught like it under the sun that ever i have seen. i knew it even in the faint light when my eyes fell upon it. i left the child with a peasant woman to take him where i had been directed. i believed him safe. on leaving panama that village lay in our backward path. we burned it down. i saw the baby again. because i had been well paid i saved him from instant death at the hands of the buccaneers, who would have tossed him in the air on the point of their spears. i shoved the crucifix, which would have tempted them because it was silver, underneath the dress and left the child. he was alive when we departed." "and the day after," cried alvarado, "de lara's troops came through that village and found me still wearing that cross. my mother! loving god, can it be? but my father----" "what shall i have if i tell you?" "riches, wealth, all--set us free and----" "not now. i can not now. wait." "at least, donna mercedes." "man, 'twould be my life that would pay; but i'll keep careful watch over her. i have yet some influence with the captain. to-morrow i'll find a way to free you--you must do the rest." "mercedes," said alvarado, "heardst thou all?" "but little," answered the girl. "that lady--is believed to have been my mother!" "gentle or simple," said the girl, "she died in defence of her honor, like the noblest, the best. this for thee, good sister," she whispered, bending down and kissing the pale forehead. "and may i do the like when my time comes. thou shouldst be proud of her, my alvarado," she said, looking up at him. "see!" she cried suddenly as the resemblance, which was indeed strong between them, struck her. "thou hast her face. her white hair was once golden like thine. he tells the truth. oh, sir, for christ's sake, have pity upon us!" a messenger came staggering toward them across the woods. "master hornigold," he cried. "ay, ay." "we've taken the town. the captain wants you and your prisoners. you'll find him in the guard room. oh, ho, there's merry times to-night in la guayra! all hell's let loose, and we are devils." he laughed boisterously and drunkenly as he spoke and lurched backward over the sands. "we must be gone," said hornigold. "rise, mistress. come, sir." "but this lady," urged alvarado--his lips could scarcely form the unfamiliar word "mother"--"and the good priest? you will not leave them here?" "the rising tide will bear them out to sea." "a moment--by your leave," said alvarado, stepping toward the dead. assisted by mercedes, for he was still bound, he stooped down and touched his lips to those of the dead woman, whispering a prayer as he did so. rising to his feet he cried: "but my father--who is he--who was he?" "we shall find that out." "but his name?" "i'm not sure, i can not tell now," answered hornigold evasively; "but with this clew the rest should be easy. trust me, and when we can discuss this matter undisturbed----" "but i would know now!" "you forget, young sir, that you are a prisoner, and must suit your will to my pleasure. forward!" but the soul of the old buccaneer was filled with fierce joy. he thought he knew the secret of the crucifix now. the spanish captain's mother lay dead upon the sands, but his father lived. he was sure of it. he would free alvarado and bring him down upon morgan. he chuckled with fiendish delight as he limped along. he had his revenge now; it lay in the hollow of his hand, and 'twas a rare one indeed. mercedes being bound again, the little party marched across the beach and the bodies of the priest and the nun were left alone while the night tide came rippling up the strand. scarcely had the party disappeared within the gate of the fort when the priest slowly and painfully lifted himself on his hands and crawled toward the woman. while the buccaneer had talked with the abbess he had returned to consciousness and had listened. bit by bit he gathered the details of her story, and in truth he knew it of old. by turning his head he had seen the crucifix on the young man's breast and he also had recognized it. he lay still and silent, however, feigning death, for to have discovered himself would have resulted in his instant despatch. when they had gone he painfully crawled over to the body of the poor nun. "isabella," he murmured, giving her her birth name, "thou didst suffer. thou tookest thine own life, but the loving god will forgive thee. i am glad that i had strength and courage to absolve thee before i fell. and i did not know thee. 'tis so many years since. thy son, that brave young captain--i will see thee righted. i wonder----" he moved nearer to her, scrutinizing her carefully, and then, with an apology even to the dead, the old man opened the front of her gown. "ay, ay, i thought so," he said, as his eye caught a glimpse of a gold chain against her white neck. gently he lifted it, unclasped it, drew it forth. there was a locket upon it. jewels sparkled upon its surface. she had worn it all these years. "_o, vanitas vanitatum!_" murmured the priest, yet compassionately. "what is it that passes the love of woman?" he slipped it quietly within the breast of his habit and then fell prostrate on the sand, faint from pain and loss of blood. long the two figures lay there in the moonlight while the rising tide lipped the shining sands. the cool water at last restored consciousness to one of the still forms, but though they laved the beautiful face of the other with tender caresses they could not call back the troubled life that had passed into peaceful eternity. painfully the old priest raised himself upon his hands and looked about him. "o god!" he murmured, "give me strength to live until i can tell the story. sister maria christina--isabella that was--thou were brave and thou wert beautiful; thou hast served our holy church long and well. if i could only lay thee in some consecrated ground--but soul like to thine makes holy e'en the sea which shall bear thee away. shriven thou wert, buried thou shalt be." the man struggled to his knees, clasped his hands before him, and began the burial service of his ancient church. "we therefore commit her body into the great deep," he said, "looking for the general resurrection in the last day, and the life of the world to come----" the water was washing around him ere he finished his mournful task, and with one long look of benison and farewell he rose to his feet and staggered along the road down the beach. slowly he went, but presently he reached the turn where began the ascent of the mountain. before he proceeded he halted and looked long toward the flaming, shrieking, ruined town. the flooding tide was in now and the breakers were beating and thundering far across the sands. the body of the abbess was gone. the old man drew himself up, lifted his trembling hands and prayed; he prayed again for the soul of the woman; he prayed for the young man, that he might learn the truth; he prayed for the beautiful damsel who loved him; he prayed for the people, the hapless people of the doomed town, the helpless, outraged women, the bereft mothers, the tortured men, the murdered children, and as he prayed he called down the curse of god upon those who had wrought such ruin. "slay them, o god! strike and spare not! cut them off root and branch who have despoiled thy people israel. they have taken the sword and may they perish by it as was promised of old!" a gray, grim, gaunt figure, bloodstained, pale, he stood there in that ghastly light, invoking the judgment of god upon morgan and his men ere he turned away and was lost in the darkness of the mountain. chapter xvii which describes an audience with sir henry morgan and the treachery by which captain alvarado is benefited [illustration] the clock on the wall was striking eleven as hornigold forced his prisoners into the guardroom of the first fort that had been captured, which, as it was the larger of the two, morgan had selected as his head quarters. mercedes' soul had turned to stone at the sights and sounds which met her as she passed through the town where the hellish revelry was now in full blast. the things she witnessed and heard were enough to appall the stoutest heart that ever beat within the rudest breast. she forgot her own danger in her sympathy for the suffering inhabitants of the devoted town. ghastly pale and sick with horror, she tottered and staggered as she entered the room. as for the señora agapida, she had collapsed long since, and for the last one hundred yards of the journey had been dragged helplessly along by two of her captors, who threw her in a senseless heap on the stone flagging of the great vaulted chamber. the agony and suffering, the torture and death, the shame and dishonor of his people affected alvarado differently. his soul flamed within his breast with pity for the one, rage for the other. he lusted and thirsted to break away and single-handed rush upon the human wolves and tigers, who were despoiling women, torturing men, murdering children, as if they had been devils. the desire mastered him, and he writhed and struggled in his bonds, but unavailingly. it was a haggard, distracted pair, therefore, which was brought before the chief buccaneer. morgan sat at the head of the guardroom, on a platform, a table before him strewn with reckless prodigality with vessels of gold and silver stolen from altar and sideboard indifferently, some piled high with food, others brimming with a variety of liquors, from the rich old wines of xeres to the fiery native rum. on one side of the captain was a woman. pale as a ghost, the young and beautiful widow of a slaughtered officer, in her disordered array she shrank terrified beneath his hand. l'ollonois, teach and de lussan were also in the room. by each one cowered another woman prisoner. teach was roaring out a song, that song of london town, with its rollicking chorus: "though life now is pleasant and sweet to the sense, we'll be damnably moldy a hundred years hence." the room was full of plunder of one sort and another, and the buccaneers were being served by frightened negro slaves, their footsteps quickened and their obedience enforced by the sight of a dead black in one corner, whom de lussan had knifed a short time since because he had been slow in coming to his call. the smell of spilled liquor, of burnt powder, and of blood, indescribable and sickening, hung in the close, hot air. lamps and candles were flaring and spluttering in the room but the greater illumination came through the open casements from the roaring fires of burning houses outside. the temptation to join in the sack of the town had been too much for hornigold's remaining men, consequently he and those conveying señora agapida alone attended the prisoners. these last, after throwing the duenna recklessly upon the floor, hurried out after the rest, leaving the officers and women alone. "silence!" roared morgan, as his eye fell upon the group entering the lower end of the great hall. "pipe down, thou bellowing bull!" he shouted, throwing a silver cup that cellini might have chased, at the head of the half drunken teach. "who's there? scuttle me, 'tis our spitfire and the gallant captain, with that worthy seaman hornigold! advance, friends. thou art welcome to our cheer. drive them forward, hornigold," he cried, as he saw mercedes and alvarado made no attempt to move. "advance quickly," whispered hornigold to alvarado; "to cross him now were death." seizing them with a great show of force he shoved them down the hall to the foot of the platform, in front of the revellers. "i welcome thee to our court, fair lady, and you, brave sir. what say ye, gentles all? rum for the noble captain, here, and wine for the lady," called out morgan, bowing over the table in malicious mockery. "i drink with no murderer," said alvarado firmly, thrusting the negro, who proffered him a glass, violently aside with his shoulder, causing him to topple over, drenching himself with the liquor. "ha! is it so?" laughed morgan in a terrible manner. "hark'ee, my young cock, thou shalt crave and beg and pray for another drink at my hand presently--and get it not. but there is another cup thou shalt drink, ay, and that to the dregs. back, you! i would speak with the lady. well, donna mercedes," he continued, "art still in that prideful mood?" silence. the girl stood erect, disdainfully looking him full in the face. "i shall break thee yet, proud wench!" he shouted. "perhaps the demoiselle is jealous of thy present companion, sir captain," sneered de lussan smoothly in his courtliest manner. "scuttle me! that's well thought on," laughed morgan. "and i'll add fuel to the fire." as he spoke he clasped the terrified woman on his right around the waist, and though she struggled and drew away from him in horror and disgust, he kissed her full upon the lips. the woman shuddered loathingly when he released her, put her face down in her hands and sobbed low and bitterly. "what sayest thou to that, sweet mercedes?" "i say may god have mercy on the soul of yon poor woman," answered mercedes disdainfully. "best pray for thine own soul, madam," he roared. "come hither! what, you move not? black dog, black dog, i say!" the huge maroon lurched from behind his master's chair, where he had lain half-drunken. "fetch me that woman!" mercedes was bound and could not at first release her hands, but as the maroon shambled toward her she sprang back struggling. "alvarado, alvarado!" she screamed. "help me, save me!" like a maddened bull, though his hands were bound also, alvarado threw himself upon the negro. the force with which he struck him hurled him backward and the two fell to the floor, the maroon beneath. his head struck a corner of the step with a force that would have killed a white man. in an instant, however, the unbound negro was on his feet. he whipped out his dagger and would have plunged it into the breast of the prostrate spaniard had not mercedes, lightly bound, for being a woman they thought it not necessary to be unusually severe in her lashings, wrenched free her hands and caught the half-breed's upraised arm. "mercy!" she screamed, while struggling to divert the blow, looking toward morgan. "hold your hand, black dog," answered that worthy. "leave the man and come hither. this is thy first appeal, lady. you know my power at last, eh? down on your knees and beg for his life!" instantly mercedes sank to her knees and stretched out her hands, a piteous, appealing, lovely figure. "spare him, spare him!" she cried. "what would you do for him?" "my life for his," she answered bravely. "nay, mercedes," interposed alvarado, "let him work his will on me." "there are worse places, thou seest, lady, than by my side," sneered morgan. "by heaven, 'twas a pretty play, was it not, mates? i spare him, but remember, 'tis for you. harry morgan's way. now reward me. hither, i say! go, you woman!" he struck the woman he had kissed a fierce blow with his naked fist--"away from me! your place is needed for your betters. here lady----" "captain morgan," cried hornigold, suddenly interrupting him. "i bethink me you should send men to seize the mountain pass that leads to caracas at once, else we may have troops upon us in the morning." it was a bold diversion and yet it succeeded. there could be no safe feasting in la guayra with that open road. morgan had overlooked it, but the boatswain's words recalled it to him; for the moment he forgot the prisoners and the women. safety was a paramount consideration. "i forgot it," he answered. "curse me, how can i? the villains are too drunk with rum and blood and fury to be despatched." "a force must be assembled at once," urged hornigold, insistently, "lest some have escaped who would bring word to the viceroy. he would be upon us in a day with an army too great for resistance. if you intend not to rot here in la guayra, or be caught in a death trap, we must be up to the mountain top beforehand. once they seize the pass, we are helpless." "that's well said, hornigold," cried morgan, who was not so drunk that he could not realize the practical value of hornigold's suggestion and the great danger of disregarding his advice. "the pass must be seized at all hazard. with that in our possession we may bide our time. i thought to wait until to-morrow, but you're right. we've feasted and drunk enough for the night. to-morrow donna de lara! guards for the pass now--but how to get them?" he rose to his feet as he spoke and came down the hall. "teach and l'ollonois, follow me!" he cried. "gather up fifty of the soberest men and lead them up the mountain road till you reach the pass, and then hold it till i come. nay, no hesitation," he roared. "canst not see the necessity? unless we are masters of that pass we are caught like rats in a trap here in la guayra. to-morrow or the next day we shall march up toward caracas. your share of the treasure and your women shall be held safe. you shall have first consideration on the other side of the mountains. nay, i will have it so!" he stamped his foot in furious rage. "we've all had too much drink already," he continued, "now we must make things secure. hornigold, take charge of this fort. i leave the prisoners with you. guard them well. treat the lady well also. do what you like with the other, only keep him alive. one of you send braziliano to me. he shall have the other fort. and you and i, monsieur de lussan, will take account of the men here in the town and bring them into such order as we can." although teach and l'ollonois had no mind to leave the pleasures open to them in la guayra, yet they were both men of intelligence and could easily see the absolute necessity for the precaution suggested by hornigold and accepted by their captain. if they held the passage over the mountains, and fifty men could hold it against a thousand, no spaniard could come at them. so the little group, leaving the wretched women, the two prisoners, and hornigold, sallied out into the infernal night. it was a difficult thing for them to find a sufficient number of sober pirates, but by persuading, threatening, and compelling they at last gathered a force of the least drunken knaves, with which they set forth on the road. the fires which had been wantonly kindled in different places by the buccaneers were making such headway that morgan instantly saw that especial efforts would be needed to prevent the complete destruction of the town. he wanted la guayra for his base of supplies for the present, and with tremendous energy, seconded by de lussan and some of the soberer men, he routed out the buccaneers and set them to work. "you have saved me for the moment," said mercedes, gratefully, turning to hornigold as he led her away from the hall. "'twas not for care of you," hissed out the old man, malevolently, "but that i'd fain balk him in every desire he cherishes, even of possessing you." "whatever it was, i am thankful, señor. you have my prayers----" "prayers," laughed the old sailor, "it hath been sixty years since i heard those canting puritans, my mother and father, pray. i want no prayers. but come, i must put you in ward. there should be strong-rooms in this castle." he summoned a slave and found what he wanted. mercedes, and señora agapida, who was fetched by other slaves, were locked in one room, alvarado was thrust into another. as soon as he could do so, after making some provision for the comfort of the woman, hornigold came down to him. "señor," he said, "the band is drunk and helpless. one hundred resolute men could master them. morgan means to march to caracas to-morrow. he can not get his men in shape to do so as long as liquor flows in la guayra. if i set you free, what can you do?" "there is a way over the mountains," answered alvarado. "a secret way, known only to the indians." "know you this path?" "it has been pointed out to me." "is it a practicable way?" "it has been abandoned for fifty years, but i could follow it to caracas." "and once there, what then?" "there, if the viceroy be not gone, and i do not believe he has yet departed, are one thousand soldiers to re-take the city." "and if they be gone?" "i'll raise the citizens, the household guards, the savages, and the slaves!" "can you do it?" "free me and see," answered alvarado, with such resolution that he convinced the sailor. "the men of caracas love the daughter of the viceroy. they are not inexperienced in arms. i will lead them. the advantage of numbers will be with us. if you free me, i take it we will have a friend within the walls. success is certain. we have too much to revenge," he added, his face flushing with rage at the thought of it all. "that's well," answered hornigold. "if i free you what reward shall i have?" "i will cover you with treasure." "and guarantee my life and liberty?" "they shall be held inviolate." "we captured the porto bello plate ship, and were wrecked two days ago a league or so to the westward----" "i saw the ship the day of the storm, but marked it not," interrupted the officer. "ay. we buried the treasure. shall i have my share?" "all that thou canst take, if the honor of the lady be preserved. i answer for the viceroy." "will you swear it?" "yes." "by your mother's cross?" "by my mother's cross, i swear. i will keep my faith with you, so help me god!" "i believe in no god, but you do, and that suffices. you shall go," cried the buccaneer, all his objections satisfied. "but as you love the woman, lose no time. i'll be at the west gate under the rocks at ten o'clock to-morrow night. you know it?" "yes, go on." "i'll open the gate for you and leave the rest to you. you must be there with your force. now, go." "i shall be there. but i can not leave without donna mercedes." "and you can't go with her. think! could she make her way over the mountains?" "no, no, but----" "i'll watch over her with my life," urged the one-eyed. "my share of the treasure depends upon her safety, you said." "but morgan----" "i hate him with a hatred greater than thine." "he is thy captain." "he betrayed me, and i swore to take such vengeance as was never heard before, to make him suffer such torments by my hand as were never felt outside of hell." "you would betray him?" "it was for that i came with him! for that i live. he craves and covets the donna mercedes. he shall not have her. trust me to interpose at the last moment." "is this true? can i believe you?" "else why should i jeopard my life by freeing you? i hate him, i tell you. remember! the west gate! there are not three hundred men here. the best fifty have gone with teach and l'ollonois, the rest are drunken and cowards. here are weapons. wrap yourself in this cloak, and come. say no word to any one on the way. by satan, as you love the wench, lose no time!" as he spoke, the old man cut the bonds of alvarado, belted upon him dagger and sword, thrust a charged pistol in his hand, covered his head with a steel cap, and threw a long cloak around him. the two then went forth into the night. avoiding the notice of others, they hastened along the deserted parapet, for there were none to keep watch or guard, until they came to one of the ladders by which the buccaneers had entered the town. down it alvarado, first swearing again on the cross, on his honor, to respect his agreement with hornigold and again receiving the man's assurance, dropped hastily to the ground. there was no one to look, and he dashed recklessly across the narrow strip of sand to the shadow of the cliffs, along which he ran until he came opposite the place of his mother's death. the white water was rolling and crashing on the beach, and the body was gone. with a hasty petition for the repose of her soul, he ran on until he reached the turn of the road. there, like the priest, he made another prayer, and it was a prayer not different from that which had been voiced so short a time before. but his petitions were soon over. it was a time for work, not prayer. no moment could be lost. he girded up his loins and turned away on the run. unlike the priest, however, he did not pursue the mountain road, but, after going a short distance, he left the way and plunged to the right through the trees directly up the side of the hill. his face was cut and slashed by morgan's dagger; his soul had been racked and torn by the scenes he had gone through; the plight of mercedes stirred him to the very depths; his heart yearned over the slaughtered garrison, the ruined town, but with a strength superhuman he plunged at the hill, in spite of the forest, groping about in the darkness with frantic energy until he found the traces of a slender, rocky path which led over the mountains. book v how the spaniards re-took la guayra and how captain alvarado found a name and something dearer still in the city chapter xviii discloses the way in which mercedes de lara fought with woman's cunning against captain henry morgan the day after the sack of the town had been a busy one for the buccaneers. first of all, morgan had striven, and with some success, to restore some sort of order within the walls. by the aid of his officers and some of the soberest men he had confiscated all of the liquor that he could come at, and had stored it under a strong guard in the west fort, which he selected as his headquarters. the governor's palace on the hill above was a more fitting and luxurious residence and it had been promptly seized, the few defenders having fled, in the morning; but for the present morgan deemed it best to remain in the city and in close touch with his men. the spanish soldiery had been cut down to a man the night before, and the majority of the hapless citizens had been killed, wounded or tortured. the unfortunates who were yet alive were driven into the church of san lorenzo, where they were kept without food, water, or attention. there were some children, also, who had survived the night, for the buccaneers, frenzied with slaughter and inflamed with rum, had tossed many of them on their sword-points when they came across them in the streets. by morgan's orders the living were collected in the store-house and barracks of the guinea trading company, a corporation which supplied slaves to the south american countries, and which had branches in every city on the caribbean. he did order food and water to be given these helpless unfortunates, so their condition was not quite so deplorable as that of the rest. it was bad enough, however, and the old barracks which had echoed with the sound of many a bitter cry from the forlorn lips of wretched slaves, now resounded with the wailing of these terrified little ones. the condition of the women of the city was beyond description. they, too, were herded together in another building, an ancient convent, but were plentifully supplied with every necessary they could ask for. death, in lieu of the fate that had come upon them, would have been welcomed by many a high-born dame and her humbler sister as well, but they were all carefully searched and deprived of everything that might serve as a weapon. they were crowded together indiscriminately, high and low, rich and poor, black or white or red, in all states of disorder and disarray, just as they had been seized the night before, some of them having been dragged from their very beds by the brutal ruffians. some of the women, maddened to frenzy by the treatment they had received, screamed and raved; but most of them were filled with still misery, overwhelmed by silent despair--waiting hopelessly for they knew not what bitter, degrading end. one night had changed them from happy wives, honored mothers, light-hearted, innocent girls, to wrecks of womanhood. the light of life was dead in them. they were dumb and unprotesting. the worst had come upon them; there was nothing of sorrow and shame they had not tasted. what mattered anything else? their husbands, fathers, children, lovers had gone. homes were broken up; their property was wasted, and not even honor was left. they prayed to die. it was all that was left to them. the gates of the town and forts were closed and some slight attempt was made to institute a patrol of the walls, although the guard that was kept was negligent to the point of contempt. as no enemy was apprehended morgan did not rigorously insist upon strict watch. many of the buccaneers were still sodden with liquor and could be of no service until they were sobered. they were dragged to the barracks, drenched with water, and left to recover as best they could. fortune favored them in one other matter, too, in that late in the afternoon a handsome frigate bringing despatches from carthagena, ran in and anchored in the roadstead. her officers at once came ashore to pay their respects to the commandante of the port and forward their papers to the viceroy. before they suspected anything, they were seized and ruthlessly murdered. to take possession of the frigate thereafter was a work of no special difficulty. the crew were disposed of as their officers had been, and the buccaneers rejoiced greatly at the good luck that had brought them so fine a ship. on the next morning morgan intended to march toward caracas, whence, after plundering that town and exacting a huge ransom for the lives of those he spared, he would lead his band back to la guayra, embark on the frigate, and then bear away for the isthmus. during the day, hornigold, whose wound incapacitated him from active movement, remained in command of the fort with special instructions to look after mercedes. by morgan's orders she and her companion were removed to the best room in the fort and luxuriously provided for. he had not discovered the escape of alvarado, partly because he took no manner of interest in that young man and only kept him alive to influence the girl, and partly because hornigold had assured him that the prisoner was taking his confinement very hardly, that he was mad with anger, in a raging fever of disappointment and anxiety, and was constantly begging to see the captain. the boatswain cunningly suggested that it would be just as well to let alvarado remain in solitude, without food or water until the next day, by which time, the boatswain argued, he would be reduced to a proper condition of humility and servitude. morgan found this advice good. it was quite in consonance with his desires and his practices. he would have killed alvarado out of hand had he not considered him the most favorable card with which to play the game he was waging with mercedes for her consent to marry him. so far as he was capable of a genuine affection, he loved the proud spanish maiden. he would fain persuade her willingly to come to his arms rather than enforce her consent or overcome her scruples by brute strength. there would be something of a triumph in winning her, and this vain, bloodstained old brute fancied that he had sufficient attractiveness for the opposite sex to render him invincible if he set about his wooing in the right way. he thought he knew the way, too. at any rate he was disposed to try it. here again hornigold, upon whom in the absence of teach he depended more and more, and in whom he confided as of old, advised him. "i know women," said that worthy, and indeed no man had more knowledge of the class which stood for women in his mind than he, "and all you want is to give her time. wait until she knows what's happened to the rest of them, and sees only you have power to protect her, and she will come to heel right enough. besides, you haven't given her half a chance. she's only seen you weapon in hand. she doesn't know what a man you are, captain. sink me, if i'd your looks instead of this old, scarred, one-eyed face, there'd be no man i'd give way to and no woman i'd not win! steer her along gently with an easy helm. don't jam her up into the wind all of a sudden. women have to be coaxed. leave the girl alone a watch. don't go near her; let her think what she pleases. don't let anybody go near her unless it's me, and she won't get anything out of me, you can depend upon that! she'll be so anxious to talk to you in the morning that you can make her do anything. then if you can starve that spanish dog and break his spirit, so that she'll see him crawling at your feet, she'll sicken of him and turn to a man." "scuttle me," laughed morgan, "your advice is good! i didn't know you knew so much about the sex." "i've mixed up considerable with them in sixty years, captain," leered the old man. "what i don't know about them ain't worth knowing." "it seems so. well, i'll stay away from her till the morning. i shall be busy anyway trying to straighten out these drunken sots, and do you put the screws on that captain and leave the lady alone--but see that she lacks nothing." "ay, ay, trust me for them both." hornigold found means during the day--and it was a matter of no little difficulty to elude the guards he himself had placed there--to inform mercedes of the escape of alvarado, and to advise her that he expected the return of that young man with the troops of the viceroy at ten o'clock that night. he bade her be of good cheer, that he did not think it likely that morgan would think of calling upon her or of sending for her until morning, when it would be too late. he promised that he would watch over her and do what he could to protect her; that he would never leave the fort except for a few moments before ten that night, when he went to admit alvarado. what was better earnest of his purpose was that he furnished her with a keen dagger, small enough to conceal in the bosom of her dress, and advised her if worst came to worst, and there was no other way, to use it. he impressed on her that on no account was she to allow morgan to get the slightest inkling of his communication to her, for if the chief buccaneer found this out hornigold's life would not be worth a moment's thought, and alvarado would be balked in his plans of rescue. mercedes most thankfully received the weapon and promised to respect the confidence. she was grateful beyond measure, and he found it necessary harshly to admonish her that he only assisted her because he had promised alvarado that she should receive no harm, and that his own safety depended upon hers. he did not say so, but under other circumstances he would have as ruthlessly appropriated her for himself as morgan intended to do, and without the shadow of a scruple. as far as creature comforts were concerned the two women fared well. indeed, they were sumptuously, lavishly, prodigally provided for. señora agapida was still in a state of complete prostration. she lay helpless on a couch in the apartment and ministering to her distracted the poor girl's mind, yet such a day as mercedes de lara passed she prayed she might never again experience. the town was filled with the shouts and cries of the buccaneers wandering to and fro, singing drunken choruses, now and again routing out hidden fugitives from places of fancied security and torturing them with ready ingenuity whenever they were taken. the confusion was increased and the noise diversified by the shrieks and groans of these miserable wretches. sometimes the voices that came through the high windows were those of women, and the sound of their screams made the heart of the brave girl sink like lead in her breast. for the rest, she did not understand hornigold's position. she did not know whether to believe him or not, but of one thing was she certain. whereas she had been defenceless now she had a weapon, and she could use it if necessary. with that in hand she was mistress at least of her own fate. as evening drew on, every thing having been attended to, morgan began to tire of his isolation, and time hung heavy on his hands. he was weary of the women whom he had hitherto consorted with; the other officers, between whom and himself there was no sort of friendship, were busy with their own nefarious wickednesses in the different parts of the fort or town, and he sat a long time alone in the guardroom, drinking, black dog, as usual, pouring at his side. the liquor inflamed his imagination and he craved companionship. summoning hornigold at last, he bade him bring donna mercedes before him. the old man attempted to expostulate, but morgan's mood had changed and he brooked no hesitation in obeying any order given by him. there was nothing for the boatswain to do but to comply. once more mercedes, therefore, found herself in the guardroom of the fort in the presence of the man she loathed and feared above all others in creation. her situation, however, was vastly different from what it had been. on the first occasion there had appeared no hope. now alvarado was free and she had a weapon. she glanced at the clock, a recent importation from spain hanging upon the wall, as she entered, and saw that it was half-after nine. ten was the hour hornigold had appointed to meet alvarado at the gate. she hoped that he would be early rather than late; and, if she could withstand the buccaneer by persuasion, seeming compliance, or by force, for a short space, all would be well. for she never doubted that her lover would come for her. even if he had to come single-handed and alone to fight for her, she knew he would be there. therefore, with every nerve strained almost to the breaking point to ward off his advances and to delay any action he might contemplate, she faced the buccaneer. he was dressed with barbaric magnificence in the riches and plunder he had appropriated, and he had adorned his person with a profusion of silver and gold, and stolen gems. he had been seated at the table while served by the maroon, but, as she entered, with unusual complaisance he arose and bowed to her with something of the grace of a gentleman. "madam," he said, endeavoring to make soft and agreeable his harsh voice, "i trust you have been well treated since in my charge." he had been drinking heavily she saw, but as he spoke her fair she would answer him accordingly. to treat him well, to temporize, and not to inflame his latent passion by unnecessarily crossing him, would be her best policy, she instantly divined, although she hated and despised him none the less. on his part, he had determined to try the gentler arts of persuasion, and though his face still bore the welts made by her riding whip the night before he strove to forget it and play the gentleman. he had some qualities, as a buccaneer, that might entitle him to a certain respect, but when he essayed the gentleman his performance was so futile that had it not been so terrible it would have been ludicrous. she answered his question calmly without exhibiting resentment or annoyance. "we have been comfortably lodged and provided with food and drink in sufficiency, señor." "and what more would you have, donna mercedes?" "liberty, sir!" "that shall be yours. saving only my will, when you are married to me, you shall be as free as air. a free sailor and his free wife, lady. but will you not sit down?" in compliance with his request, she seated herself on a chair which happened to be near where she stood; she noted with relief that the table was between them. "nay, not there," said the captain instantly. "here, madam, here, at my side." "not yet, señor capitan; it were not fit that a prisoner should occupy so high a seat of honor. wait until----" "until what, pray?" he cried, leaning forward. "until that--until i--until we----" in spite of her efforts she could not force her lips to admit the possibility of the realization of his desire. "until you are lady morgan?" he cried, his face flaming. she buried her face in her hands at his suggestion, for she feared her horror in the thought would show too plainly there; and then because she dare not lose sight of him, she constrained herself to look at him once more. her cheeks were burning with shame, her eyes flashing with indignation, though she forced her lips into the semblance of a smile. "that surprises you, does it?" continued the man with boasting condescension. "you did not think i designed so to honor you after last night, madam? scuttle me, these"--pointing to his face--"are fierce love taps, but i fancy a strong will--when i can break it to mine own," he muttered, "and i have yet to see that in man or woman that could resist mine." she noted with painful fascination the powerful movements of his lean fingers as he spoke, for his sinewy right hand, wrinkled and hideous, lay stretched out on the table before him, and he clasped and unclasped it unconsciously as he made his threat. "i like you none the less for your spirit, ma'am. 'fore god, it runs with your beauty. you are silent," he continued, staring at her with red-eyed, drunken suspicion. "you do not answer?" "my lord," cried mercedes, "i know not what to say." "say, 'harry morgan, i love you and i am yours.'" "there is another present, señor." "where? another? who has dared--" roared the buccaneer glaring about him. "thy servant--the negro." "oh," he laughed, "he is nothing. black dog, we call him. he is my slave, my shadow, my protection. he is always by." an idea had swiftly flashed into the young girl's mind. if she could get rid of the slave she could deal more easily with the master. she was tall, strong, and morgan, it appeared, was not in full possession of his faculties or his strength from the liquor he had imbibed. "still," she urged, "i do not like to be wooed in the presence of another, even though he be a slave. 'tis not a spanish maiden's way, sir." "your will now, lady," said the buccaneer, with a hideous attempt at gallantry, "is my law. afterwards--'twill be another matter. out, carib, but be within call. now, madam, we are alone. speak you the english tongue?" the conversation had been carried on in spanish heretofore. "indifferently, señor." "well, i'll teach it you. the lesson may as well begin now. say after me, 'harry'--i permit that though i am a belted knight of england, made so by his merry majesty, king charles, god rest him. drink to the repose of the king!" he cried, shoving a cup across the table toward her. resisting a powerful temptation to throw it at him, and divining that the stimulant might be of assistance to her in the trying crisis in which she found herself, the girl lifted the cup to her lips, bowed to him, and swallowed a portion of the contents. "give it back to me!" he shouted. "you have tasted it, i drain it. now the lesson. say after me, 'harry morgan'----" "harry morgan," gasped the girl. "'i love thee.'" with a swift inward prayer she uttered the lying words. "you have learned well, and art an apt pupil indeed," he cried, leering upon her in approbation and lustful desire--- his very gaze was pollution to her. "d'ye know there are few women who can resist me when i try to be agreeable? harry morgan's way!" he laughed again. "there be some that i have won and many i have forced. none like you. so you love me? scuttle me, i thought so. ben hornigold was right. woo a woman, let her be clipped willingly in arms--yet there's a pleasure in breaking in the jades, after all. still, i'm glad that you are in a better mood and have forgot that cursed spaniard rotting in the dungeons below, in favor of a better man, harry--no, i'll say, sir henry--morgan--on this occasion, at your service," he cried, rising again and bowing to her as before. she looked desperately at the clock. the hour was close at hand. so great was the strain under which she was laboring that she felt she could not continue five minutes longer. would alvarado never come? would anybody come? she sat motionless and white as marble, while the chieftain stared at her in the pauses of his monologue. "now, madam, since you have spoke the words perhaps you will further wipe out the recollection of this caress--" he pointed to his cheek again. "curse me!" he cried in sudden heat, "you are the only human being that ever struck harry morgan on the face and lived to see the mark. i'd thought to wait until to-morrow and fetch some starveling priest to play his mummery, but why do so? we are alone here--together. there is none to disturb us. black dog watches. you love me, do you not?" "i--i--" she gasped out, brokenly praying for strength, and fighting for time. "you said it once, that's enough. come, lady, let's have happiness while we may. seal the bargain and kiss away the blows." he came around the table and approached her. notwithstanding the quantity of liquor he had taken he was physically master of himself, she noticed with a sinking heart. as he drew near, she sprang to her feet also and backed away from him, throwing out her left hand to ward him off, at the same time thrusting her right hand into her bosom. "not now," she cried, finding voice and word in the imminence of the peril. "oh, for god's sake----" "tis useless to call on god in harry morgan's presence, mistress, for he is the only god that hears. come and kiss me, thou black beauty--and then--" "to-morrow, for christ's sake!" cried the girl. "i am a christian--i must have a priest--not now--to-morrow!" she was backed against the wall and could go no further. "to-night," chuckled the buccaneer. he was right upon her now. she thrust him, unsuspicious and unprepared, violently from her, whipped out the dagger that hornigold had given her, and faced him boldly. it was ten o'clock and no one had yet appeared. the struck hour reverberated through the empty room. would alvarado never come? had it not been that she hoped for him she would have driven the tiny weapon into her heart at once, but for his sake she would wait a little longer. "nay, come no nearer!" she cried resolutely. "if you do, you will take a dead woman in your arms. back, i say!" menacing herself with the point. and the man noted that the hand holding the weapon did not tremble in the least. "thinkest thou that i could love such a man as thou?" she retorted, trembling with indignation, all the loathing and contempt she had striven to repress finding vent in her voice. "i'd rather be torn limb from limb than feel even the touch of thy polluting hand!" "death and fury!" shouted morgan, struggling between rage and mortification, "thou hast lied to me then?" "a thousand times--yes! had i a whip i'd mark you again. come within reach and i will drive the weapon home!" she lifted it high in the air and shook it in defiance as she spoke. it was a frightful imprudence, for which she paid dearly, however, for the hangings parted and carib, who had heard what had gone on, entered the room--indeed, the voices of the man and woman filled with passion fairly rang through the hall. his quick eye took in the situation at once. he carried at his belt a long, heavy knife. without saying a word, he pulled it out and threw it with a skill born of long practice, which made him a master at the game, fairly at the woman's uplifted hand. before either morgan or mercedes were aware of his presence they heard the whistle of the heavy blade through the air. at the same moment the missile struck the blade of the dagger close to the palm of the woman and dashed it from her hand. both weapons rebounded from the wall from the violence of the blow and fell at morgan's feet. mercedes was helpless. "well done, carib!" cried morgan exultantly. "never has that old trick of thine served me better. now, you she-devil--i have you in my power. didst prefer death to harry morgan? thou shalt have it, and thy lover, too. i'll tear him limb from limb and in thy presence, too, but not until after----" "oh, god! oh, god!" shrieked mercedes, flattening herself against the wall, shrinking from him with wide outstretched arms as he approached her. "mercy!" "i know not that word. wouldst cozen me? hast another weapon in thy bodice? i'll look." before she could prevent him he seized her dress at the collar with both hands and, in spite of her efforts, by a violent wrench tore it open. "no weapon there," he cried. "ha! that brings at last the color to your pale cheek!" he added, as the rich red crimsoned the ivory of her neck and cheek at this outrage. "help, help!" she screamed. her voice rang high through the apartment with indignant and terrified appeal. "call again," laughed morgan. "kill me, kill me!" she begged. "nay, you must live to love me! ho! ho!" he answered, taking her in his arms. "mercy! help!" she cried in frenzy, all the woman in her in arms against the outrage, though she knew her appeal was vain, when, wonder of wonders---- "i heard a lady's voice," broke upon her ears from the other end of the room. "de lussan!" roared morgan, releasing her and turning toward the intruder. "here's no place for you. how came you here? i'd chosen this room for myself, i wish to be private. out of it, and thank me for your life!" "i know not why you should have donna de lara against her will, and when better men are here," answered the frenchman, staring with bold, cruel glances at her, beautiful in her disarray, "and if you keep her you must fight for her. mademoiselle," he continued, baring his sword gracefully and saluting her, "will you have me for your champion?" [illustration: "hast another weapon in thy bodice?"] his air was as gallant as if he had been a gentleman and bound in honor to rescue a lady in dire peril of life and honor, instead of another ruffian inflamed by her beauty and desirous to possess her himself. "save me! save me," she cried, "from this man!" she did not realize the meaning of de lussan's words, she only saw a deliverer for the present. it was ten minutes past the hour now. she welcomed any respite; her lover might come at any moment. "i will fight the both of you for her," cried the frenchman; "you, black dog, and you, master morgan. draw, unless you are a coward." "i ought to have you hanged, you mutinous hound!" shouted morgan, "and hanged you shall be, but not until i have proved myself your master with the sword, as in all other things. watch the woman, carib, and keep out of this fray. lay hand on her at your peril! remember, she is mine." "or it may be mine," answered de lussan, as morgan dashed at him. they engaged without hesitation and the room was filled with the sound of ringing, grating steel. first pulling the pins from her glorious hair, mercedes shook it down around her bare shoulders, and then stood, fascinated, watching the fencers. she could make no movement from the wall as the negro stood at her arm. for a space neither of the fighters had any advantage. de lussan's skill was marvelous, but the chief buccaneer was more than his match. presently the strength and capacity of the older and more experienced swordsman began to give him a slight advantage. hard pressed, the frenchman, still keeping an inexorable guard, slowly retreated up the room. both men had been so intensely occupied with the fierce play that they had not heard the sound of many feet outside, a sudden tumult in the street. the keen ear of the half-breed, however, detected that something was wrong. "master," he cried, "some one comes. i hear shouts in the night air. a shot! shrieks--groans! there! the clash of arms! lower your weapons, sirs!" he cried again, as spanish war cries filled the air. "we are betrayed; the enemy is on us!" instantly morgan and de lussan broke away from each other. "to-morrow," cried the buccaneer captain. "as you will," returned the other. but now, mercedes, staking all upon her hope, lifted her voice, and with tremendous power begot by fear and hope sent ringing through the air that name which to her meant salvation-- "alvarado! alvarado!" chapter xix how captain alvarado crossed the mountains, found the viceroy, and placed his life in his master's hands the highway between la guayra and venezuela was exceedingly rough and difficult, and at best barely practicable for the stoutest wagons. the road wound around the mountains for a distance of perhaps twenty-five miles, although as the crow flies it was not more than five miles between the two cities. between them, however, the tremendous ridge of mountains rose to a height of nearly ten thousand feet. starting from the very level of the sea, the road crossed the divide through a depression at an altitude of about six thousand feet and descended thence some three thousand feet to the valley in which lay caracas. this was the road over which alvarado and mercedes had come and on the lower end of which they had been captured. it was now barred for the young soldier by the detachment of buccaneers under young teach and l'ollonois, who were instructed to hold the pass where the road crossed through, or over, the mountains. owing to the configuration of the pass, that fifty could hold it against a thousand. it was not probable that news of the sack of la guayra would reach caracas before morgan descended upon it, but to prevent the possibility, or to check any movement of troops toward the shore, it was necessary to hold that road. the man who held it was in position to protect or strike either city at will. it was, in fact, the key to the position. morgan, of course, counted upon surprising the unfortified capital as he had the seaport town. it was the boast of the spaniards that they needed no walls about caracas, since nature had provided them with the mighty rampart of the mountain range, which could not be surmounted save in that one place. with that one place in the buccaneer's possession, caracas could only rely upon the number and valor of her defenders. to morgan's onslaught could only be opposed a rampart of blades and hearts. had there been a state of war in existence it is probable that the viceroy would have fortified and garrisoned the pass, but under present conditions nothing had been done. as soon as a messenger from teach informed morgan that the pass had been occupied and that all seemed quiet in caracas, a fact which had been learned by some bold scouting on the farther side of the mountain, he was perfectly easy as to the work of the morrow. he would fall upon the unwalled town at night and carry everything by a _coup de main_. fortunately for the spaniards in this instance, it happened that there was another way of access to the valley of caracas from la guayra. directly up and over the mountain there ran a narrow and difficult trail, known first to the savages and afterwards to wandering smugglers or masterless outlaws. originally, and until the spaniards made the wagon road, it had been the only way of communication between the two towns. but the path was so difficult and so dangerous that it had long since been abandoned, even by the classes which had first discovered and traveled it. these vagabonds had formerly kept it in such a state of repair that it was fairly passable, but no work had been done on it for nearly one hundred years. indeed, in some places, the way had been designedly obliterated by the spanish government about a century since, after one of the most daring exploits that ever took place in the new world. ninety years before this incursion by the buccaneers, a bold english naval officer, sir amyas preston, after seizing la guayra, had captured caracas by means of this path. the spaniards, apprised of his descent upon their coasts, had fortified the mountain pass but had neglected this mountain trail, as a thing impracticable for any force. preston, however, adroitly concealing his movements, had actually forced his men to ascend the trail. the ancient chroniclers tell of the terrific nature of the climb, how the exhausted and frightened english sailors dropped upon the rocks, appalled by their dangers and worn out by their hardships, how preston and his officers forced them up at the point of the sword until finally they gained the crest and descended into the valley. they found the town unprotected, for all its defenders were in the pass, seized it, held it for ransom, then, sallying forth, took the surprised spanish troops in the pass in the rear and swept them away. after this exploit some desultory efforts had been made by the spaniards to render the trail still more impracticable with such success as has been stated, and it gradually fell into entire disuse. by nearly all the inhabitants its very existence had been forgotten. it was this trail that alvarado determined to ascend. the difficulties in his way, even under the most favorable circumstances, might well have appalled the stoutest-hearted mountaineer. in the darkness they would be increased a thousand-fold. he had not done a great deal of mountain climbing, although every one who lived in venezuela was more or less familiar with the practice; but he was possessed of a cool head, an unshakable nerve, a resolute determination, and unbounded strength, which now stood him in good stead. and he had back of him, to urge him, every incentive in the shape of love and duty that could move humanity to godlike deed. along the base of the mountain the trail was not difficult although it was pitch-dark under the trees which, except where the mighty cliffs rose sheer in the air like huge buttresses of the range, covered the mountains for the whole expanse of their great altitude, therefore he made his way upward without trouble or accident at first. the moon's rays could not pierce the density of the tropic foliage, of course, but alvarado was very familiar with this easier portion of the way, for he had often traversed it on hunting expeditions, and he made good progress for several hours in spite of the obscurity. it had been long past midnight when he started, and it was not until daybreak that he passed above the familiar and not untrodden way and entered upon the most perilous part of his journey. the gray dawn revealed to him the appalling dangers he must face. sometimes clinging with iron grasp to pinnacles of rock, he swung himself along the side of some terrific precipice, where the slightest misstep meant a rush into eternity upon the rocks a thousand feet below. sometimes he had to spring far across great gorges in the mountains that had once been bridged by mighty trunks of trees, long since moldered away. sometimes there was nothing for him to do but to scramble down the steep sides of some dark cañon and force himself through cold torrential mountain streams that almost swept him from his feet. again his path lay over cliffs green with moss and wet with spray, which afforded most precarious support to his grasping hands or slipping feet. sometimes he had to force a way through thick tropic undergrowth that tore his clothing into rags. had he undertaken the ascent in a mere spirit of adventure he would have turned back long since from the dangers he met and surmounted with such hardship and difficulty; but he was sustained by the thought of the dreadful peril of the woman he loved, the remembrance of the sufferings of the hapless townspeople, and a consuming desire for revenge upon the man who had wrought this ruin on the shore. with the pale, beautiful face of mercedes to lead him, and by contrast the hateful, cruel countenance of morgan to force him, ever before his vision, the man plunged upward with unnatural strength, braving dangers, taking chances, doing the impossible--and providence watched over him. it was perhaps nine o'clock in the morning when he reached the summit--breathless, exhausted, unhelmed, weaponless, coatless, in rags; torn, bruised, bleeding, but unharmed--and looked down on the white city of caracas set in its verdant environment like a handful of pearls in a goblet of emerald. he had wondered if he would be in time to intercept the viceroy, and his strained heart leaped in his tired breast when he saw, a few miles beyond the town on the road winding toward the orinoco country, a body of men. the sunlight blazing from polished helms or pointed lance tips proclaimed that they were soldiers. he would be in time, thank god! with renewed vigor, he scrambled down the side of the mountain--and this descent fortunately happened to be gentle and easy--and running with headlong speed, he soon drew near the gate of the palace. he dashed into it with reckless haste, indifferent to the protests of the guard, who did not at first recognize in the tattered, bloody, wounded, soiled specimen of humanity his gay and gallant commander. he made himself known at once, and was confirmed in his surmise that the viceroy had set forth with his troops early in the morning and was still in reaching distance on the road. [illustration: ... he reached the summit--breathless, exhausted, unhelmed, weaponless, coatless, in rags; torn, bruised, bleeding, but unharmed.] directing the best horse in the stables to be brought to him, after snatching a hasty meal while it was being saddled, and not even taking time to re-clothe himself, he mounted and galloped after. an hour later he burst through the ranks of the little army and reined in his horse before the astonished viceroy, who did not recognize in this sorry cavalier his favorite officer, and stern words of reproof for the unceremonious interruption of the horseman broke from his lips until they were checked by the first word from the young captain. "the buccaneers have taken la guayra and sacked it!" gasped alvarado hoarsely. "alvarado!" cried the viceroy, recognizing him as he spoke. "are you mad?" "would god i were, my lord." "the buccaneers?" "morgan--all spain hates him with reason--led them!" "morgan! that accursed scourge again in arms? impossible! i don't understand!" "the very same! 'tis true! 'tis true! oh, your excellency----" "and my daughter----" "a prisoner! for god's love turn back the men!" "instantly!" cried the viceroy. he was burning with anxiety to hear more, but he was too good a soldier to hesitate as to the first thing to be done. raising himself in his stirrups he gave a few sharp commands and the little army, which had halted when he had, faced about and began the return march to caracas at full speed. as soon as their manoeuvres had been completed and they moved off, the viceroy, who rode at the head with alvarado and the gentlemen of his suite, broke into anxious questioning. "now, captain, but that thou art a skilled soldier i could not believe thy tale." "my lord, i swear it is true!" "and you left donna mercedes a prisoner?" interrupted de tobar, who had been consumed with anxiety even greater than that of the viceroy. "alas, 'tis so." "how can that be when you are free, señor?" "let me question my own officer, de tobar," resumed the viceroy peremptorily, "and silence, all, else we learn nothing. now, alvarado. what is this strange tale of thine?" "my lord, after we left you yesterday morning we made the passage safely down the mountain. toward evening as we approached la guayra, just before the point where the road turns into the strand, we were set upon by men in ambush. the soldiers and attendants were without exception slain. although i fought and beat down one or two of our assailants, they struck me to the earth and took me alive. the two ladies and i alone escaped. no indignity was offered them. i was bound and we were led along the road to a camp. there appeared to be some three hundred and fifty men under the leadership of a man who claimed to be sir henry morgan, sometime pirate and robber, later vice-governor of jamaica, now, as i gathered, in rebellion against his king and in arms against us. they captured the plate galleon with lading from porto bello and peru, and were wrecked on this coast to the westward of la guayra. they had determined upon the capture of that town, whence they expected to move on caracas." "and mercedes?" again interrupted the impetuous and impassioned de tobar. "let him tell his tale!" commanded the viceroy, sternly. "it behooves us, gentlemen, to think first of the cities of our king." "they had captured a band of holy nuns and priests. these were forced, especially the women, by threats you can imagine, to plant scaling ladders against the walls, and, although the troops made a brave defense, the buccaneers mastered them. they carried the place by storm and sacked it. when i left it was burning in several places and turned into a hell." "my god!" ejaculated the old man, amid the cries and oaths of his fierce, infuriated men. "and now tell me about mercedes." "morgan--who met her, you remember, when we stopped at jamaica on our return from madrid?" "yes, yes!" "he is in love with her. he wanted to make her his wife. therefore he kept her from the soldiery." in his eagerness the viceroy reined in his horse, and the officers and men, even the soldiers, stopped also and crowded around the narrator. "did he--did he--o holy mother have pity upon me!" groaned the viceroy. "he did her no violence save to kiss her, while i was by." "and you suffered it!" shouted de tobar, beside himself with rage. "what did she then?" asked the old man, waving his hand for silence. "she struck him in the face again and again with her riding-whip. i was bound, señors. i broke my bonds, struck down one of the guards, wrested a sword from another, and sprang to defend her. but they overpowered me. indeed, they seized the lady and swore to kill her unless i dropped my weapon." "death," cried de lara, "would have been perhaps a fitting end for her. what more?" "we were conveyed into the city after the sack. he insulted her again with his compliments and propositions. he sent a slave to fetch her, but, bound as i was, i sprang upon him and beat him down." "and then?" "then one of his men, an ancient, one-eyed sailor, interfered and bade him look to the town, else it would be burned over his head, and urged him to secure the pass. in this exigency the pirate desisted from his plan against the lady. he sent donna mercedes to a dungeon, me to another." "how came you here, sir, and alone?" asked de tobar, again interrupting, and this time the viceroy, pitying the agony of the lover, permitted the question. "did you, a spanish officer, leave the lady defenseless amid those human tigers?" "there was nothing else to do, don felipe. the sailor who interfered, he set me free. i did refuse to leave without the señorita. he told me i must go without her or not at all. he promised to protect her honor or to kill her--at least to furnish her with a weapon. to go, to reach you, your excellency, was the only chance for her. going, i might save her; staying, i could only die." "you did rightly. i commend you," answered the veteran. "go on." "my lord, i thank you. the way over the road was barred by the party that had seized the pass." "and how came you?" "straight over the mountain, sir." "what! the indian trail? the english way?" "the same." "what next?" "at ten to-night, the sailor who released me will open the city gate, the west gate, beneath the shadow of the cliffs--we must be there!" "but how? can we take the pass? it is strongly held, you say." "my lord, give me fifty brave men who will volunteer to follow me. i will lead them back over the trail and we will get to the rear of the men holding the pass. do you make a feint at engaging them in force in front and when their attention is distracted elsewhere we will fall on and drive them into your arms. by this means we open the way. then we will post down the mountains with speed and may arrive in time. nay, we must arrive in time! hornigold, the sailor, would guarantee nothing beyond to-night. the buccaneers are drunk with liquor; tired out with slaughter. they will suspect nothing. we can master the whole three hundred and fifty of them with five score men." "alvarado," cried the viceroy, "thou hast done well. i thank thee. let us but rescue my daughter and defeat these buccaneers and thou mayest ask anything at my hands--saving one thing. gentlemen and soldiers, you have heard the plan of the young captain. who will volunteer to go over the mountains with him?" brandishing their swords and shouting with loud acclaim the great body of troopers pressed forward to the service. alvarado, who knew them all, rapidly selected the requisite number, and they fell in advance of the others. over them the young captain placed his friend de tobar as his second in command. "'tis bravely done!" cried the viceroy. "now prick forward to the city, all. we'll refresh ourselves in view of the arduous work before us and then make our further dispositions." the streets of caracas were soon full of armed men preparing for their venture. as soon as the plight of la guayra and the viceroy's daughter became known there was scarcely a civilian, even, who did not offer himself for the rescue. the viceroy, however, would take only mounted men, and of these only tried soldiers. alvarado, whom excitement and emotion kept from realizing his fatigue, was provided with fresh apparel, after which he requested a private audience for a moment or two with the viceroy, and together they repaired to the little cabinet which had been the scene of the happenings the night before. "your excellency," began the young man, slowly, painfully, "i could not wait even the hoped-for happy issue of our plans to place my sword and my life in your hands." "what have you done?" asked the old man, instantly perceiving the seriousness of the situation from the anguish in his officer's look and voice. "i have broken my word--forfeited my life." "proceed." "i love the donna mercedes----" "you promised to say nothing--to do nothing." "that promise i did not keep." "explain." "there is nothing to explain. i was weak--it was beyond my strength. i offer no excuse." "you urge nothing in extenuation?" "nothing." "'twas deliberately done?" "nay, not that; but i----" "s'death! what did you?" "i told her that i loved her, again----" "shame! shame!" "i took her into my arms once more----" "thou double traitor! and she----" "my lord, condemn her not. she is young--a woman." "i do not consider captain alvarado, a dishonored soldier, my proper mentor. i shall know how to treat my daughter. what more?" "nothing more. we abandoned ourselves to our dream, and at the first possible moment i am come to tell you all--to submit----" "hast no plea to urge?" persisted the old man. "none." "but your reason? by god's death, why do you tell me these things? if thou art base enough to fall, why not base enough to conceal?" "i could not do so, your excellency. i am not master of myself when she is by--'tis only when away from her i see things in their proper light. she blinds me. no, sir," cried the unhappy alvarado, seeing a look of contempt on the grim face of the old general, "i do not urge this in defense, but you wanted explanation." "nothing can explain the falsehood of a gentleman, the betrayal of a friend, the treachery of a soldier." "nothing--hence i am here." "perhaps i have estimated you too highly," went on the old man musingly. "i had hoped you were gentle--but base blood must run in your veins." "it may be," answered the young man brokenly, and then he added, as one detail not yet told, "i have found my mother, sir." "thy mother? what is her condition?" cried the viceroy, in curious and interested surprise that made him forget his wrath and contempt for the moment. "she was an abbess of our holy church. she died upon the sands of la guayra by her own hand rather than surrender her honor or lend aid to the sack of the town." "that was noble," interrupted the old de lara. "i may be mistaken after all. yet 'twere well she died, for she will not see----" he paused significantly. "my shame?" asked alvarado. "thy death, señor, for what you have done. no other punishment is meet. did donna mercedes send any message to me?" alvarado could not trust himself to speak. he bowed deeply. "what was it?" the young man stood silent before him. "well, i will learn from her own lips if she be alive when we come to the city. i doubt not it will excuse thee." "i seek not to shelter myself behind a woman." "that's well," said the old man. "but now, what is to be done with thee?" "my lord, give me a chance, not to live, but to die honestly. let me play my part this day as becomes a man, and when donna mercedes is restored to your arms----" "thou wilt plead for life?" "nay, as god hears me, i will not live dishonored. life is naught to me without the lady. i swear to thee----" "you have given me your word before, sir," said the old man sternly. "on this cross--it was my mother's," he pulled from his doublet the silver crucifix and held it up. "i will yield my life into your hands without question then, and acclaim before the world that you are justified in taking it. believe me----" "thou didst betray me once." "but not this time. before god--by christ, his mother, by my own mother, dead upon the sands, by all that i have hoped for, by my salvation, i swear if i survive the day i will go gladly to my death at your command!" "i will trust you once more, thus far. say naught of this to any one. leave me!" "your excellency," cried the young man, kneeling before him, "may god reward you!" he strove to take the hand of the old man, but the latter drew it away. "even the touch of forsworn lips is degradation. you have your orders. go!" alvarado buried his face in his hands, groaned bitterly, and turned away without another word. chapter xx wherein master teach, the pirate, dies better than he lived [illustration] it was nearing eleven o'clock in the morning when, after a hurried conference in the patio with the viceroy and the others, alvarado and de tobar marched out with their fifty men. they had discarded all superfluous clothing; they were unarmored and carried no weapons but swords and pistols. in view of the hard climb before them and the haste that was required, they wished to be burdened as lightly as possible. their horses were brought along in the train of the viceroy's party which moved out upon the open road to the pass at the same time. these last went forward with great ostentation, the forlorn hope secretly, lest some from the buccaneers might be watching. the fifty volunteers were to ascend the mountain with all speed, make their way along the crest as best they could, until they came within striking distance of the camp of the pirates. then they were to conceal themselves in the woods there and when the viceroy made a feigned attack with the main body of his troops from the other side of the mountain, they were to leave their hiding-place and fall furiously upon the rear of the party. fortunately, they were not required to ascend such a path as that alvarado had traversed on the other side, for there were not fifty men in all venezuela who could have performed that tremendous feat of mountaineering. the way to the summit of the range and thence to the pass was difficult, but not impossible, and they succeeded after an hour or two of hard climbing in reaching their appointed station, where they concealed themselves in the woods, unobserved by teach's men. the viceroy carried out his part of the programme with the promptness of a soldier. alvarado's men had scarcely settled themselves in the thick undergrowth beneath the trees whence they could overlook the buccaneers in camp on the road below them, before a shot from the pirate sentry who had been posted toward caracas called the fierce marauders to arms. they ran to the rude barricade they had erected covering the pass and made preparation for battle. soon the wood was ringing with shouts and cries and the sound of musketry. although teach was a natural soldier and l'ollonois an experienced and prudent commander, they took no precaution whatever to cover their rear, for such a thing as an assault from that direction was not even dreamed of. alvarado and de tobar, therefore, led their men forward without the slightest opposition. even the noise they made crashing through the undergrowth was lost in the sound of the battle, and attracted no attention from the enemy. it was not until they burst out into the open road and charged forward, cheering madly, that the buccaneers realized their danger. some of them faced about, only to be met by a murderous discharge from the pistols of the forlorn hope, and the next moment the spaniards were upon them. the party holding the pass were the picked men, veterans, among the marauders. they met the onset with tremendous courage and crossed blades in the smoke like men, but at the same instant the advance guard of the main army sprang at the barricade and assaulted them vigorously from the other side. the odds were too much for the buccaneers, and after a wild mêlée in which they lost heavily, the survivors gave ground. the road immediately below the pass opened on a little plateau, back of which rose a precipitous wall of rock. thither such of the buccaneers as were left alive hastily retreated. there were perhaps a dozen men able to use their weapons; among them teach was the only officer. l'ollonois had been cut down by de tobar in the first charge. the spaniards burst through the pass and surrounded the buccaneers. the firearms on both sides had all been discharged, and in the excitement no one thought of reloading; indeed, with the cumbersome and complicated weapons then in vogue there was no time, and the spaniards, who had paid dearly for their victory, so desperate had been the defence of the pirates, were fain to finish this detachment in short order. "yield!" cried alvarado, as usual in the front ranks of his own men. "you are hopelessly overmatched," pointing with dripping blade to his own and the viceroy's soldiers as he spoke. "shall we get good quarter?" called out teach. a splendid specimen he looked of an englishman at bay, in spite of his wicked calling, standing with his back against the towering rock, his bare and bloody sword extended menacingly before him, the bright sunlight blazing upon his sunny hair, his blue eyes sparkling with battle-lust and determined courage. quite the best of the pirates, he! "you shall be hung like the dogs you are," answered alvarado sternly. "we'd rather die sword in hand, eh, lads?" "ay, ay." "come on, then, señors," laughed the englishman gallantly, saluting with his sword, "and see how bravely we english can die when the game is played and we have lost." though his cause was bad and his life also, his courage was magnificent. under other circumstances it would have evoked the appreciation of alvarado and some consideration at his hands. possibly he might even have granted life to the man, but memory of the sights of the night before in that devastated town six thousand feet below their feet, and the deadly peril of his sweetheart banished pity from his soul. this man had been the right hand of morgan; he was, after the captain, the ablest man among the buccaneers. he must die, and it would be a mercy to kill him out of hand, anyway. "forward, gentlemen!" he cried, and instantly the whole mass closed in on the pirates. such a fight as teach and his men made was marvellous. for each life the spaniards took the pirates exacted a high price, but the odds were too great for any human valor, however splendid, to withstand, and in a brief space the last of the buccaneers lay dying on the hill. teach was game to the last. pierced with a dozen wounds, his sword broken to pieces, he lifted himself on his elbow, and with a smile of defiance gasped out the brave chorus of the song of the poet of london town: "though life now is pleasant and sweet to the sense, we'll be damnably mouldy a hundred years hence." "tell morgan," he faltered, "we did not betray--faithful to the end----" and so he died as he had lived. "a brave man!" exclaimed de tobar with some feeling in his voice. "but a black-hearted scoundrel, nevertheless," answered alvarado sternly. "had you seen him last night----" "ye have been successful, i see, gentlemen," cried the viceroy, riding up with the main body. "where is alvarado?" "i am here, your excellency." "you are yet alive, señor?" "my work is not yet complete," answered the soldier, "and i can not die until--i--donna mer--" "bring up the led horses," interrupted the viceroy curtly. "mount these gentlemen. let the chirurgeons look to the spanish wounded." "and if there be any buccaneers yet alive?" asked one of the officers. "toss them over the cliff," answered the viceroy; "throw the bodies of all the carrion over, living or dead. they pollute the air. form up, gentlemen! we have fully twenty-five miles between us and the town which we must reach at ten of the clock. 'twill be hard riding. alvarado, assemble your men and you and de tobar lead the way, i will stay farther back and keep the main body from scattering. we have struck a brave blow first, and may god and st. jago defend us further. forward!" chapter xxi the recital of how captain alvarado and don felipe de tobar came to the rescue in the nick of time [illustration] old hornigold had kept his promise, and alvarado had kept his as well. it was a few minutes before ten when the first spanish horsemen sprang from their jaded steeds at the end of the road. in that wild race down the mountains, alvarado had ridden first with de tobar ever by his side. none had been able to pass these two. the viceroy had fallen some distance behind. for one reason, he was an old man, and the pace set by the lovers was killing. for another and a better, as he had said, he thought it desirable to stay somewhat in the rear to keep the men closed up; but the pace even of the last and slowest had been a tremendous one. sparing neither themselves nor their horses, they had raced down the perilous way. some of them had gone over the cliffs to instant destruction; others had been heavily thrown by the stumbling horses. some of the horses had given out under the awful gallop and had fallen exhausted, but when the riders were unhurt they had joined the foot soldiers marching after the troopers as fast they could. alvarado's soldierly instincts had caused him to halt where the road opened upon the sand, for he and de tobar and the two or three who kept near them could do nothing alone. they were forced to wait until a sufficient force had assembled to begin the attack. he would have been there before the appointed time had it not been for this imperative delay, which demonstrated his capacity more than almost anything else could have done, for he was burning to rush to the rescue of mercedes. indeed, he had been compelled to restrain by force the impetuous and undisciplined de tobar, who thought of nothing but the peril of the woman he adored. there had been a fierce altercation between the two young men before the latter could be persuaded that alvarado was right. each moment, however, added to the number of the party. there was no great distance between the first and last, and after a wait of perhaps ten or fifteen minutes, some one hundred and fifty horsemen were assembled. the viceroy had not come up with the rest, but they were sure he would be along presently, and alvarado would wait no longer. bidding the men dismount lest they should be observed on horseback, and stationing one to acquaint the viceroy with his plans, he divided his troop into three companies, he and de tobar taking command of one and choosing the nearest fort as their objective point. captain agramonte, a veteran soldier, was directed to scour the town, and lieutenant nuñez, another trusted officer, was ordered to master the eastern fort on the other side. they were directed to kill every man whom they saw at large in the city, shooting or cutting down every man abroad without hesitation, for alvarado rightly divined that all the inhabitants would be penned up in some prison or other and that none would be on the streets except the buccaneers. there were still enough pirates in the city greatly to outnumber his force, but many of them were drunk and all of them, the spaniard counted, would be unprepared. the advantage of the surprise would be with his own men. if he could hold them in play for twenty minutes the viceroy with another detachment would arrive, and thereafter the end would be certain. they could take prisoners then and reserve them for torture and death--some meet punishment for their crimes. those necessary preparations were made with the greatest speed, the men were told off in their respective companies, and then, keeping close under the shadow of the cliff for fear of a possible watcher, they started forward. since ten old ben hornigold had been hidden in an arched recess of the gateway waiting their arrival. he had thought, as the slow minutes dragged by, that alvarado had failed, and he began to contrive some way by which he could account for his escape to morgan in the morning, when the captain would ask to have him produced, but the arrival of the spaniards relieved his growing anxiety. "donna mercedes?" asked alvarado of the old boatswain, as he entered the gate. "safe when i left her in the guardroom with morgan--and armed. if you would see her alive----" "this way----" cried alvarado, dashing madly along the street toward the fort. every man had his weapons in hand, and the little party had scarcely gone ten steps before they met a buccaneer. he had been asleep when he should have watched, and had just been awakened by the sound of their approach. he opened his mouth to cry out, but alvarado thrust his sword through him before he could utter a sound. the moonlight made the street as light as day, and before they had gone twenty steps farther, turning the corner, they came upon a little party of the pirates. an immediate alarm was given by them. the spaniards brushed them aside by the impetuosity of their onset, but on this occasion pistols were brought in play. screams and cries followed the shots, and calls to arms rang through the town. but by this time the other companies were in the city, and they were making terrible havoc as they ran to their appointed stations. the buccaneers came pouring from the houses, most of them arms in hand. it could not be denied that they were ready men. but the three attacks simultaneously delivered bewildered them. the streets in all directions seemed full of foes. the advantage of the surprise was with the spanish. the pirates were without leadership for the moment and ran aimlessly to and fro, not knowing where to rally; yet little bands did gather together instinctively, and these began to make some headway against the spanish soldiery. even the cowards fought desperately, for around every neck was already the feel of a halter. alvarado and de tobar soon found themselves detached from their company. indeed, as the time progressed and the buccaneers began to perceive the situation they put up a more and more stubborn and successful opposition. they rallied in larger parties and offered a stout resistance to the spanish charges. disregarding their isolation, the two young officers ran to the fort. fortunately the way in that direction was not barred. the solitary sentry at the gateway attempted to check them, but they cut him down in an instant. as they mounted the stair they heard, above the shrieks and cries and shots of the tumult that came blowing in the casement with the night wind, the sound of a woman's screams. "mercedes!" cried de tobar. "it is she!" they bounded up the stairs, overthrowing one or two startled men who would have intercepted them, and darted to the guardroom. they tore the heavy hangings aside and found themselves in a blaze of light in the long apartment. two men confronted them. back of the two, against the wall, in a piteous state of disorder and terror, stood the woman they both loved. in front of her, knife in hand, towered the half-breed. "treason, treason!" shouted morgan furiously. "we are betrayed! at them, de lussan!" as he spoke the four men crossed swords. de tobar was not the master of the weapon that the others were. after a few rapid parries and lunges the frenchman had the measure of his brave young opponent. then, with a laugh of evil intent, by a clever play he beat down the spaniard's guard, shattering his weapon, and with a thrust as powerful as it was skilful, he drove the blade up to the hilt in poor de tobar's bosom. the gallant but unfortunate gentleman dropped his own sword as he fell, and clasped his hands by a convulsive effort around the blade of de lussan. such was the violence of his grasp that he fairly hugged the sword to his breast, and when he fell backward upon the point the blade snapped. he was done for. morgan and alvarado, on the other hand, were more equally matched. neither had gained an advantage, although both fought with energy and fury. alvarado was silent, but morgan made the air ring with shouts and cries for his men. as the swords clashed, carib raised his hand to fling his knife at alvarado, but, just as the weapon left his fingers, mercedes threw herself upon him. the whizzing blade went wild. with a savage oath he seized a pistol and ran toward the spaniard, who was at last getting the better of the captain. a cry from mercedes warned alvarado of this new danger. disengaging suddenly, he found himself at sword's point with de lussan, who had withdrawn his broken weapon from de tobar's body and was menacing him with it. with three opponents before him he backed up against the wall and at last gave tongue. "to me!" he cried loudly, hoping some of his men were within call. "alvarado!" as he spoke morgan closed with him once more, shouting: "on him, de lussan! let him have it, black dog! we've disposed of one!" as the blades crossed again, the desperate spaniard, who was a swordsman of swordsmen, put forth all his power. there was a quick interchange of thrust and parry, and the weapon went whirling from the hand of the chief buccaneer. quick as thought alvarado shortened his arm and drove home the stroke. morgan's life trembled in the balance. the maroon, however, who had been seeking a chance to fire, threw himself between the two men and received the force of the thrust full in the heart. his pistol was discharged harmlessly. he fell dead at his master's feet without even a groan. no more would black dog watch behind the old man's chair. he had been faithful to his hideous leader and his hideous creed. before alvarado could recover his guard, de lussan struck him with his broken sword. the blow was parried by arm and dagger, but the force of it sent the spaniard reeling against the wall. at the same instant morgan seized a pistol and snapped it full in his face. the weapon missed fire, but the buccaneer, clutching the barrel, beat him down with a fierce blow. "so much for these two," he roared. "let's to the street." de lussan seized alvarado's sword, throwing away his own. morgan picked up his own blade again, and the two ran from the room. a stern fight was being waged in the square, whither all the combatants had congregated, the buccaneers driven there, the spaniards following. the disciplined valor and determination of the spanish, however, were slowly causing the buccaneers to give ground. no spanish soldiers that ever lived could have defeated the old-time buccaneers, but these were different, and their best men had been killed with teach and l'ollonois. the opportune arrival of morgan and de lussan, however, put heart in their men. under the direction of these two redoubtable champions they began to make stouter resistance. the battle might have gone in their favor if, in the very nick of time, the viceroy himself and the remainder of the troops had not come up. they had not thought it necessary to come on foot since the surprise had been effected, and the viceroy rightly divined they would have more advantage if mounted. choosing the very freshest horses therefore, he had put fifty of the best soldiers upon them and had led them up on a gallop, bidding the others follow on with speed. the fighting had gradually concentrated before the church and in the eastern fort, where braziliano had his headquarters. the arrival of the horsemen decided the day. morgan and de lussan, fighting desperately in the front ranks with splendid courage, were overridden. de lussan was wounded, fell, and was trampled to death by the spanish horsemen, and morgan was taken prisoner, alive and unharmed. when he saw that all was lost, he had thrown himself upon the enemy, seeking a death in the fight, which, by the viceroy's orders, was denied him. many of the other buccaneers also were captured alive; indeed, the viceroy desired as many of them saved as possible. he could punish a living man in a way to make him feel something of the torture he had inflicted, and for this reason those who surrendered had been spared for the present. indeed, after the capture of morgan the remaining buccaneers threw down their arms and begged for mercy. they might as well have appealed to a stone wall for that as to their spanish captors. a short shrift and a heavy punishment were promised them in the morning. meanwhile, after a brief struggle, the east fort was taken by assault, and braziliano was wounded and captured with most of his men. the town was in the possession of the spanish at last. it was all over in a quarter of an hour. instantly the streets were filled with a mob of men, women, and children, whose lives had been spared, bewildered by the sudden release from their imminent peril and giving praise to god and the viceroy and his men. as soon as he could make himself heard in the confusion de lara inquired for alvarado. "where is he?" he cried. "and de tobar?" "my lord," answered one of the party, "we were directed to take the west fort and those two cavaliers were in the lead, but the pressure of the pirates was so great that we were stopped and have not seen them since. they were ahead of us." "de cordova," cried the old man to one of his colonels, "take charge of the town. keep the women and children and inhabitants together where they are for the present. let your soldiery patrol the streets and search every house from top to bottom. let no one of these ruffianly scoundrels escape. take them alive. we'll deal with them in the morning. fetch morgan to the west fort after us. come, gentlemen, we shall find our comrades there, and pray god the ladies have not yet--are still unharmed!" a noble old soldier was de lara. he had not sought his daughter until he had performed his full duty in taking the town. the anteroom of the fort they found in a state of wild confusion. the dead bodies of the sentry and the others the two cavaliers had cut down on the stairs were ruthlessly thrust aside, and the party of gentlemen with the viceroy in the lead poured into the guardroom. there, on his back, was stretched the hideous body of the half-breed where he had fallen. there, farther away, the unfortunate de tobar lay, gasping for breath yet making no outcry. he was leaning on his arm and staring across the room, with anguish in his face not due to the wound he had received but to a sight which broke his heart. "alas, de tobar!" cried the viceroy. "where is mercedes?" he followed the glance of the dying man. there at the other side of the room lay a prostrate body, and over it bent a moaning, sobbing figure. it was mercedes. "mercedes!" cried the viceroy running toward her. "alvarado!" "tell me," he asked in a heartbreaking voice. "art thou----" "safe yet and--well," answered the girl; "they came in the very nick of time. oh, alvarado, alvarado!" she moaned. "señorita," cried one of the officers, "don felipe here is dying. he would speak with you." mercedes suffered herself to be led to where de tobar lay upon the floor. one of his comrades had taken his head on his knee. the very seconds of his life were numbered. lovely in her grief mercedes knelt at his side, a great pity in her heart. the viceroy stepped close to him. "i thank you, too," she said. "poor don felipe, he and you saved me, but at the expense of your lives. would god you could have been spared!" "nay," gasped the dying man, "thou lovest him. i--watched thee. i heard thee call upon his name. thou wert not for me, and so i die willingly. he is a noble gentleman. would he might have won thee!" the man trembled with the violent effort it cost him to speak. he gasped faintly and strove to smile. by an impulse for which she was ever after grateful, she bent her head, slipped her arm around his neck, lifted him up, and kissed him. in spite of his death agony, at that caress he smiled up at her. "now," he murmured, "i die happy--content--you kissed--me--jesu--mercedes----" it was the end of as brave a lover, as true a cavalier as ever drew sword or pledged hand in a woman's cause. "he is dead," said the officer. "god rest his soul, a gallant gentleman," said the viceroy, taking off his hat, and his example was followed by every one in the room. "and captain alvarado?" said mercedes, rising to her feet and turning to the other figure. "señorita," answered another of the officers, "he lives." "oh, god, i thank thee!" "see--he moves!" a little shudder crept through the figure of the prostrate captain, who had only been knocked senseless by the fierce blow and was otherwise unhurt. "his eyes are open! water, quick!" with skilled fingers begot by long practice the cavalier cut the lacings of alvarado's doublet and gave him water, then a little wine. as the young captain returned to consciousness, once more the officers crowded around him, the viceroy in the centre, mercedes on her knees again. "mercedes," whispered the young captain. "alive--unharmed?" "yes," answered mercedes brokenly, "thanks to god and thee." "and de tobar," generously asserted alvarado. "where is he?" "dead." "oh, brave de tobar! and the city----" "is ours." "and morgan?" "here in my hands," said the viceroy sternly. "thank god, thank god! and now, your excellency, my promise. i thought as i was stricken down there would be no need for you to----" "thou hast earned life, alvarado, not death, and thou shalt have it." "señors," said alvarado, whose faintness was passing from him, "i broke my plighted word to the viceroy and don felipe de tobar. i love this lady and was false to my charge. don alvaro promised me death for punishment, and i crave it. i care not for life without----" "and did he tell thee why he broke his word?" asked mercedes, taking his hands in her own and looking up at her father. "it was my fault. i made him. in despair i strove to throw myself over the cliff on yonder mountain and he caught me in his arms. with me in his arms--which of you, my lords," she said, throwing back her head with superb pride, "would not have done the same? don felipe de tobar is dead. he was a gallant gentleman, but i loved him not. my father, you will not part us now?" "no," said the old man, "i will not try. i care not now what his birth or lineage, he hath shown himself a man of noblest soul. you heard the wish of de tobar. it shall be so. this is the betrothal of my daughter, gentlemen. art satisfied, captain? she is noble enough, she hath lineage and race enough for both of you. my interest with our royal master will secure you that patent of nobility you will adorn, for bravely have you won it." chapter xxii in which sir henry morgan sees a cross, cherishes a hope, and makes a claim [illustration] these noble and generous words of the viceroy put such heart into the young spanish soldier that, forgetting his wounds and his weakness, he rose to his feet. indeed, the blow that struck him down had stunned him rather than anything else, and he would not have been put out of the combat so easily had it not been that he was exhausted by the hardships of those two terrible days through which he had just passed. the terrific mountain climb, the wild ride, the fierce battle, his consuming anxiety for the woman he loved--these things had so wearied him that he had been unequal to the struggle. the stimulants which had been administered to him by his loving friends had been of great service also in reviving his strength, and he faced the viceroy, his hand in that of mercedes, with a flush of pleasure and pride upon his face. yet, after all, it was the consciousness of having won permission to marry the woman whom he adored and who loved him with a passion that would fain overmatch his own, were that possible, that so quickly restored him to strength. with the realization of what he had gained there came to him such an access of vigor as amazed those who a few moments before had thought him dead or dying. "but for these poor people who have so suffered, this, my lord," he exclaimed with eager gratitude and happiness, "hath been a happy day for me. last night, sir, on the beach yonder, i found a mother. a good sister, she, of holy church, who, rather than carry the ladders which gave access to the town, with the fearful alternative of dishonor as a penalty for refusal, killed herself with her own hand. she died not, praise god, before she had received absolution from a brave priest, although the holy father paid for his office with his life, for morgan killed him. to-night i find, by the blessing of god, the favor of your excellency and the kindness of the lady's heart--a wife." he dropped upon his knees as he spoke and pressed a long, passionate kiss upon the happy mercedes' extended hand. "lady," he said, looking up at her, his soul in his eyes, his heart in his voice, "i shall strive to make myself noble for thee, and all that i am, and shall be, shall be laid at thy feet." "i want not more than thyself, señor alvarado," answered the girl bravely before them all, her own cheeks aglow with happy color. "you have enough honor already. you satisfy me." "long life to donna de lara and captain alvarado!" cried old agramonte, lifting up his hand. "the handsomest, the noblest, the bravest pair in new spain! may they be the happiest! give me leave, sir," added the veteran captain turning to the viceroy. "you have done well. say i not true, gentlemen? and as for the young captain, as he is fit to stand with the best, it is meet that he should win the heart of the loveliest. his mother he has found. none may know his father----" "let me be heard," growled a deep voice in broken spanish, as the one-eyed old sailor thrust himself through the crowd. "hornigold, by hell!" screamed the bound buccaneer captain, who had been a silent spectator of events from the background. "i missed you. have you----" the boatswain, mindful of his safety, for in the hurry and confusion of the attack any spaniard would have cut him down before he could explain, had followed hard upon the heels of alvarado and de tobar when they entered the fort and had concealed himself in one of the inner rooms until he saw a convenient opportunity for disclosing himself. he had been a witness to all that had happened in the hall, and he realized that the time had now come to strike the first of the blows he had prepared against his old captain. that in the striking, he wrecked the life and happiness of those he had assisted for his own selfish purpose mattered little to him. he had so long brooded and thought upon one idea, so planned and schemed to bring about one thing, that a desire for revenge fairly obsessed him. as soon as he appeared from behind the hangings where he had remained in hiding, it was evident to every one that he was a buccaneer. swords were out in an instant. "what's this?" cried the viceroy in great surprise. "another pirate free and unbound? seize him!" three or four of the men made a rush toward the old buccaneer, but with wonderful agility he avoided them and sprang to the side of alvarado. "back, señors!" he cried coolly and composedly, facing their uplifted points. "my lord," said alvarado, "bid these gentlemen withdraw their weapons. this man is under my protection." "who is he?" "he i told you of, sir, who set me free, provided donna mercedes with a weapon, opened the gate for us. one benjamin hornigold." "thou damned traitor!" yelled that fierce, high voice on the outskirts of the crowd. there was a sudden commotion. a bound man burst through the surprised cavaliers and threw himself, all fettered though he was, upon the sailor. he was without weapon or use of hand, yet he bit him savagely on the cheek. "hell!" he cried, as they pulled him away and dragged him to his feet, "had i a free hand for a second you'd pay! as it is, i've marked you, and you'll carry the traitor's brand until you die! curse you, whatever doom comes to me, may worse come to you!" the old buccaneer was an awful figure, as he poured out a horrible torrent of curses and imprecations upon the traitor, grinding his teeth beneath his foam-flecked lips, and even the iron-hearted sailor, striving to staunch the blood, involuntarily shrank back appalled before him. "señor," he cried, appealing to alvarado, "i was to have protection!" "you shall have it," answered the young soldier, himself shrinking away from the traitor, although by his treason he had so greatly benefited. "my lord, had it not been for this man, i'd still be a prisoner, the lady mercedes like those wretched women weeping in the streets. i promised him, in your name, protection, immunity from punishment, and liberty to depart with as much of the treasure of the porto bello plate galleon, which was wrecked on the sands a few days ago, of which i told you, as he could carry." "and you did not exceed your authority, captain alvarado. we contemn treason in whatsoever guise it doth appear, and we hate and loathe a traitor, but thy word is passed. it will be held inviolate as our own. you are free, knave. i will appoint soldiers to guard you, for should my men see you, not knowing this, they would cut you down; and when occasion serves you may take passage in the first ship that touches here and go where you will. nay, we will be generous, although we like you not. we are much indebted to you. we have profited by what we do despise. we would reward you. ask of me something that i may measure my obligation for a daughter's honor saved, if you can realize or feel what that may be." "my lord, hear me," said the boatswain quickly. "there be reasons and reasons for betrayals, and i have one. this man was my captain. i perilled my life a dozen times to save his; i followed him blindly upon a hundred terrible ventures; i lived but for his service. my soul--when i had a soul--was at his command; i loved him. ay, gentlemen, rough, uncouth, old though i am, i loved this man. he could ask of me anything that i could have given him and he would not have been refused. "sirs, there came to me a young brother of mine, not such as i, a rude, unlettered sailor, but a gentleman--and college bred. there are quarterings on my family scutcheon, sirs, back in merry england, had i the wit or care to trace it. he was a reckless youth, chafing under the restraints of that hard religion to which we had been born. the free life of a brother-of-the-coast attracted him. he became like me, a buccaneer. i strove to dissuade him, but without avail. he was the bravest, the handsomest, the most gallant of us all. he came into my old heart like a son. we are not all brute, gentlemen. i have waded in blood and plunder like the rest, but in every heart there is some spot that beats for things better. i divided my love between him and my captain. this man"--he pointed to his old master with his blunted finger, drawing himself up until he looked taller than he was, his one eye flashing with anger and hatred, as with a stern, rude eloquence he recited his wrongs, the grim indictment of a false friend--"this man betrayed us at panama. with what he had robbed his comrades of he bought immunity, even knighthood, from the king of england. he was made vice-governor of jamaica and his hand fell heavily upon those who had blindly followed him in the old days, men who had served him and trusted him, as i--men whose valor and courage had made him what he was. "he took the lad i loved, and because his proud spirit would not break to his heavy hand and he answered him like the bold, free sailor he was, he hanged him like a dog, sirs! i--i--stooped for his life. i, who cared not for myself, offered to stand in his place upon the gallows platform, though i have no more taste for the rope than any of you, if only he might go free. he laughed at me! he mocked me! i urged my ancient service--he drove me from him with curses and threats like a whipped dog. i could have struck him down then, but that i wanted to save him for a revenge that might measure my hate, slow and long and terrible. not mere sudden death, that would not suffice. something more. "treachery? my lord, his was the first. i played his own game and have overcome it with the same. d'ye blame me now? take your treasure! i want none of it. i want only him and my revenge! liberty's dear to all of us. i'll give mine up. you may take my life with the rest, but first give me this man. let me deal with him. i will revenge you all, and when i have finished with him i will yield myself to you." he was a hideous figure of old hate and rancor, of unslaked passion, of monstrous possibilities of cruel torture. hardened as they were by the customs of their age to hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness, the listeners turned cold at such an exhibition of malefic passion, of consuming hatred. even morgan himself, intrepid as he was, shrank from the awful menace of the mordant words. "my lord!" shouted the unfortunate captain, "give him no heed. he lies in his throat; he lies a thousand times. 'twas a mutinous dog, that brother of his, that i hanged. i am your prisoner. you are a soldier. i look for speedy punishment, certain death it may be, but let it not be from his hand." "think, señors," urged the boatswain; "you would hang him perhaps. it is the worst that you could do. is that punishment meet for him? he has despoiled women, bereft children, tortured men, in the streets of la guayra. a more fitting punishment should await him. think of panama, of maracaibo, of porto bello! recall what he did there. is hanging enough? give him to me. let me have my way. you have your daughter, safe, unharmed, within the shelter of her lover's arms. the town is yours. you have won the fight. 'twas i that did it. without me your wives, your children, your subjects, would have been slaughtered in caracas and this dog would have been free to go further afield for prey. he coveted your daughter--would fain make her his slave in some desert island. give him to me!" "old man," said the viceroy, "i take back my words. you have excuse for your betrayal, but your request i can not grant. i have promised him to alvarado. nay, urge me no further. my word is passed." "thank you, thank you!" cried morgan, breathing again. "silence, you dog!" said the viceroy, with a look of contempt on his face. "but take heart, man," he added, as he saw the look of rage and disappointment sweep over the face of the old sailor, "he will not escape lightly. would god he had blood enough in his body to pay drop by drop for all he hath shed. his death shall be slow, lingering, terrible. you have said it, and you shall see it, too, and you will. he shall have time to repent and to think upon the past. you may glut yourself with his suffering and feed fat your revenge. 'twill be a meet, a fitting punishment so far as our poor minds can compass. we have already planned it." "you spanish hounds!" roared morgan stoutly, "i am a subject of england. i demand to be sent there for trial." "you are an outlaw, sir, a man of no country, a foe to common humanity, and taken in your crimes. silence, i say!" again cried the old man. "you pollute the air with your speech. take him away and hold him safe. to-morrow he shall be punished." "without a trial?" screamed the old buccaneer, struggling forward. "thou art tried already. thou hast been weighed in the balances and found wanting. alvarado, art ready for duty?" "ready, your excellency," answered the young man, "and for this duty." "take him then, i give him into your hands. you know what is to be done; see you do it well." "ay, my lord. into the strong-room with him, men!" ordered the young spaniard, stepping unsteadily forward. as he did so the crucifix he wore, which the disorder in his dress exposed to view, flashed into the light once more. morgan's eyes fastened upon it for the first time. "by heaven, sir!" he shouted. "where got ye that cross?" "from his mother, noble captain," interrupted hornigold, coming closer. he had another card to play. he had waited for this moment, and he threw back his head with a long, bitter laugh. there was such sinister, such vicious mockery and meaning in his voice, with not the faintest note of merriment to relieve it, that his listeners looked aghast upon him. "his mother?" cried morgan. "then this is----" he paused. the assembled cavaliers, mercedes, and alvarado stood with bated breath waiting for the terrible boatswain's answer. "the boy i took into cuchillo when we were at panama," said hornigold in triumph. "and my son!" cried the old buccaneer with malignant joy. a great cry of repudiation and horror burst from the lips of alvarado. the others stared with astonishment and incredulity written on their faces. mercedes moved closer to her lover and strove to take his hand. "my lords and gentlemen, hear me," continued the buccaneer, the words rushing from his lips in his excitement, for in the new relationship he so promptly and boldly affirmed, he thought he saw a way of escape from his imminent peril. "there lived in maracaibo a spanish woman, maria zerega, who loved me. by her there was a child--mine--a boy. i took them with me to panama. the pestilence raged there after the sack. she fell ill, and as she lay dying besought me to save the boy. i sent hornigold to her with instructions to do her will, and he carried the baby to the village of cuchillo with that cross upon his breast and left him. we lost sight of him. there, the next day, you found him. he has english blood in his veins. he is my son, sirs, a noble youth," sneered the old man. "now you have given me to him. 'tis not meet that the father should suffer at the hands of the son. you shall set me free," added the man, turning to alvarado. "rather than that--" cried hornigold, viciously springing forward knife in hand. he was greatly surprised at the bold yet cunning appeal of his former captain. "back, man!" interposed the viceroy. "and were you a thousand times his father, were you my brother, my own father, you should, nevertheless, die, as it hath been appointed." "can this be true?" groaned alvarado, turning savagely to hornigold. "i believe it to be." "why not kill me last night then?" "i wanted you for this minute. 'tis a small part of my revenge. to see him die and by his son's hand--a worthy father, noble son----" "silence!" shouted de lara. "art thou without bowels of compassion, man! alvarado, i pity thee, but this makes the promise of the hour void. nay, my daughter"--as mercedes came forward to entreat him--"i'd rather slay thee with my own hand than wed thee to the son of such as yon!" "my lord, 'tis just," answered alvarado. his anguish was pitiful to behold. "i am as innocent of my parentage as any child, yet the suffering must be mine. the sins of the fathers are visited on the children. i did deem it yesterday a coward's act to cut the thread of my life but now--i cannot survive--i cannot live--and know that in my veins--runs the blood of such a monster. my lord, you have been good to me. gentlemen, you have honored me. mercedes, you have loved me--o god! you, infamous man, you have fathered me. may the curse of god, that god whom you mock, rest upon you! my mother loved this man once, it seems. well, nobly did she expiate. i go to join her. pray for me. stay not my hand. farewell!" he raised his poniard. "let no one stop him," cried the old viceroy as alvarado darted the weapon straight at his own heart. "this were the best end." mercedes had stood dazed during this conversation, but with a shriek of horror, as she saw the flash of the blade, she threw herself upon her lover, and strove to wrench the dagger from him. "alvarado!" she cried, "whatever thou art, thou hast my heart! nay, slay me first, if thou wilt." chapter xxiii how the good priest fra antonio de las casas told the truth, to the great relief of captain alvarado and donna mercedes, and the discomfiture of master benjamin hornigold and sir henry morgan [illustration] "ay, strike, alvarado," cried the viceroy, filled with shame and surprise at the sight of his daughter's extraordinary boldness, "for though i love her, i'd rather see her dead than married to the son of such as he. drive home your weapon!" he cried in bitter scorn. "why stay your hand? only blood can wash out the shame she hath put upon me before you all this day. thou hast a dagger. use it, i say!" "do you hear my father's words, alvarado?" cried mercedes sinking on her knees and stretching up her hands to him. "'tis a sharp weapon. one touch will end it all, and you can follow." "god help me!" cried the unhappy young captain, throwing aside the poniard and clasping his hands to his eyes. "i cannot! hath no one here a point for me? if i have deserved well of you or the state, sir, bid them strike home." "live, young sir," interrupted morgan, "there are other women in the world. come with me and----" "if you are my father, you have but little time in this world," interrupted the spaniard, turning to morgan and gnashing his teeth at him. "i doubt not but you were cruel to my mother. i hate you! i loathe you! i despise you for all your crimes! and most of all for bringing me into the world. i swear to you, had i the power, i'd not add another moment to your life. the world were better rid of you." "you have been well trained by your spanish nurses," cried morgan resolutely, although with sneering mockery and hate in his voice, "and well you seem to know the duty owed by son to sire." "you have done nothing for me," returned the young soldier, "you abandoned me. such as you are you were my father. you cast me away to shift for myself. had it not been for these friends here----" "nay," said morgan, "i thought you dead. that cursed one-eyed traitor there told me so, else i'd sought you out." [illustration: "god help me!" cried alvarado, throwing aside the poniard, "i cannot!"] "glad am i that you did not, for i have passed my life where no child of yours could hope to be--among honorable men, winning their respect, which i now forfeit because of thee." "alvarado," said the viceroy, "this much will i do for thee. he shall be shot like a soldier instead of undergoing the punishment we had designed for him. this much for his fatherhood." "my lord, i ask it not," answered the young man. "sir," exclaimed morgan, a gleam of relief passing across his features, for he knew, of course, that death was his only expectation, and he had greatly feared that his taking off would be accompanied by the most horrible tortures that could be devised by people who were not the least expert in the practice of the unmentionable cruelties of the age, "you, at least, are a father, and i thank you." "yes, i am a father and a most unhappy one," groaned de lara, turning toward alvarado. "perhaps it is well you did not accomplish your purpose of self-destruction after all, my poor friend. as i said before, spain hath need of you. you may go back to the old country beyond the great sea. all here will keep your secret; my favor will be of service to you even there. you can make a new career with a new name." "and mercedes?" asked alvarado. "you have no longer any right to question. ah, well, it is just that you should hear. the girl goes to a convent; the only cloak for her is in our holy religion--and so ends the great race of de laras!" "no, no," pleaded mercedes, "send me not there! let me go with him!" she stepped nearer to him, beautiful and beseeching. "my father," she urged, "you love me." she threw her arms around his neck and laid her head upon his breast. upon it her father tenderly pressed his hand. "you loved my mother, did you not?" she continued. "think of her. condemn me not to the living death of a convent--away from him. if that man be his father--and i can not believe it, there is some mistake, 'tis impossible that anything so foul should bring into the world a man so noble--yet i love him! you know him. you have tried him a thousand times. he has no qualities of his base ancestry. his mother at least died like a spanish gentlewoman. my lords, gentlemen, some of you have known me from my childhood. you have lived in our house and have followed the fortunes of my father--you have grown gray in our service. intercede for me!" "your excellency," said old don cæsar de agramonte, a man, who, as mercedes had said, had literally grown gray in the service of the viceroy, and who was man of birth scarcely inferior to his own, "the words of the lady mercedes move me profoundly. by your grace's leave, i venture to say that she hath spoken well and nobly, and that the young alvarado, whom we have seen in places that try men's souls to the extreme, hath always comported himself as a spanish gentleman should. this may be a lie. but if it is true, his old association with you and yours, and some humor of courage and fidelity and gentleness that i doubt not his mother gave him, have washed out the taint. will you not reconsider your words? give the maiden to the man. i am an old soldier, sir, and have done you some service. i would cheerfully stake my life to maintain his honor and his gentleness at the sword's point." "he speaks well, don alvaro," cried captain gayoso, another veteran soldier. "i join my plea to that of my comrade, don cæsar." "and i add my word, sir." "and i, mine." "and i, too," came from the other men of the suite. "gentlemen, i thank you," said alvarado, gratefully looking at the little group; "this is one sweet use of my adversity. i knew not i was so befriended----" "you hear, you hear, my father, what these noble gentlemen say?" interrupted mercedes. "but," continued alvarado sadly, "it is not meet that the blood of the princely de laras should be mingled with mine. rather the ancient house should fall with all its honors upon it than be kept alive by degradation. i thank you, but it can not be." "your excellency, we humbly press you for an answer," persisted agramonte. "gentlemen--and you have indeed proven yourselves generous and gentle soldiers--i appreciate what you say. your words touch me profoundly. i know how you feel, but alvarado is right. i swear to you that i would rather let my line perish than keep it in existence by such means. rather anything than that my daughter should marry--forgive me, lad--the bastard son of a pirate and buccaneer, a wicked monster, like that man!" "sir," exclaimed a thin, faint old voice from the outskirts of the room, "no base blood runs in the veins of that young man. you are all mistaken." "death and fury!" shouted morgan, who was nearer to him, "it is the priest! art alive? scuttle me, i struck you down--i do not usually need to give a second blow." "who is this?" asked de lara. "back, gentlemen, and give him access to our person." the excited men made way for a tall, pale, gaunt figure of a man clad in the habit of a dominican. as he crossed his thin hands on his breast and bowed low before the viceroy, the men marked a deeply scarred wound upon his shaven crown, a wound recently made, for it was still raw and open. the man tottered as he stood there. "'tis the priest!" exclaimed hornigold, who had been a silent and disappointed spectator of the scene at last. "he lives then?" "the good father!" said mercedes, stepping from her father's side and scanning the man eagerly. "he faints! a chair for him, gentlemen, and wine!" "now, sir," said the viceroy as the priest seated himself on a stool which willing hands had placed for him, after he had partaken of a generous draught of wine, which greatly refreshed him, "your name?" "fra antonio de las casas, your excellency, a dominican, from peru, bound for spain on the plate galleon, the _almirante recalde_, captured by that man. i was stricken down by his blow as i administered absolution to the mother of the young captain. i recovered and crawled into the woods for concealment, and when i saw your soldiers, your excellency, i followed, but slowly, for i am an old man and sore wounded." "would that my blow had bit deeper, thou false priest!" roared morgan in furious rage. "be still!" commanded the old viceroy sternly. "speak but another word until i give you leave and i'll have you gagged! you said strange words, holy father, when you came into the hall." "i did, my lord." "you heard----" "some of the conversation, sir, from which i gathered that this unfortunate man"--pointing to morgan, who as one of the chief actors in the transaction had been placed in the front rank of the circle, although tightly bound and guarded by the grim soldiers--"claimed to be the father of the brave young soldier." "ay, and he hath established the claim," answered de lara. "nay, my lord, that can not be." "why not, sir," interrupted alvarado, stepping forward. "because it is not true." "thank god, thank god!" cried alvarado. indeed, he almost shouted in his relief. "how know you this?" asked mercedes. "my lady, gentles all, i have proof irrefutable. he is not the child of that wicked man. his father is----" "i care not who," cried alvarado, having passed from death unto life in the tremendous moments, "even though he were the meanest and poorest peasant, so he were an honest man." "my lord," said the priest, "he was a noble gentleman." "i knew it, i knew it!" cried mercedes. "i said it must be so." "ay, a gentleman, a gentleman!" burst from the officers in the room. "your excellency," continued the old man, turning to the viceroy. "his blood is as noble as your own." "his name?" said the old man, who had stood unmoved in the midst of the tumult. "captain alvarado that was," cried the dominican, with an inborn love of the dramatic in his tones, "stand forth. my lord and lady, and gentles all, i present to you don francisco de guzman, the son of his excellency, the former governor of panama and of his wife, isabella zerega, a noble and virtuous lady, though of humbler walk of life and circumstance than her husband." "de guzman! de guzman!" burst forth from the soldiers. "it is a lie!" shouted hornigold. "he is morgan's son. he was given to me as such. i left him at cuchillo. you found him, sir----" he appealed to the viceroy. "my venerable father, with due respect to you, sir, we require something more than your unsupported statement to establish so great a fact," said the viceroy deliberately, although the sparkle in his eyes belied his calm. "your grace speaks well," said morgan, clutching at his hope still. "i require nothing more. i see and believe," interrupted mercedes. "but i want proof," sternly said her father. "and you shall have it," answered the priest. "that cross he wears----" "as i am about to die!" exclaimed morgan, "i saw his mother wear it many a time, and she put it upon his breast." "not this one, sir," said fra antonio, "but its fellow. there were two sisters in the family of zerega. there were two crosses made, one for each. in an evil hour the elder sister married you----" "we did, indeed, go through some mockery of a ceremony," muttered morgan. "you did, sir, and 'twas a legal one, for when you won her--by what means i know not, in maracaibo--you married her. you were forced to do so before you received her consent. one of my brethren who performed the service told me the tale. after you took her away from maracaibo her old father, broken hearted at her defection, sought asylum in panama with the remaining daughter, and there she met the governor, don francisco de guzman. he loved her, he wooed and won her, and at last he married her, but secretly. she was poor and humble by comparison with him; she had only her beauty and her virtue for her dower, and there were reasons why it were better the marriage should be concealed for a while. "a child was born. you were that child, sir. thither came this man with his bloody marauders. in his train was his wretched wife and her own boy, an infant, born but a short time before that of the governor. de guzman sallied out to meet them and was killed at the head of his troops. they burned panama and turned that beautiful city into a hell like unto la guayra. i found means to secrete isabella de guzman and her child. the plague raged in the town. this man's wife died. he gave command to hornigold to take the child away. he consulted me, as a priest whose life he had spared, as to what were best to do with him, and i advised cuchillo, but his child died with its mother before it could be taken away. "isabella de guzman was ill. i deemed it wise to send her infant away. i urged her to substitute her child for the dead body of the other, intending to provide for its reception at cuchillo, and she gave her child to the sailor. in the confusion and terror it must have been abandoned by the woman to whom it was delivered; she, it was supposed, perished when the buccaneers destroyed the place out of sheer wantonness when they left panama. i fell sick of the fever shortly after and knew not what happened. the poor mother was too seriously ill to do anything. it was months ere we recovered and could make inquiries for the child, and then it had disappeared and we found no trace of it. you, sir," pointing to hornigold, "had gone away with the rest. there was none to tell us anything. we never heard of it again and supposed it dead." "and my child, sir priest?" cried morgan. "what became of it?" "i buried it in the same grave with its poor mother with the cross on its breast. may god have mercy on their souls!" "a pretty tale, indeed," sneered the buccaneer. "it accounts in some measure for the situation," said the viceroy, "but i must have further proof." "patience, noble sir, and you shall have it. these crosses were of cunning construction. they open to those who know the secret. there is room in each for a small writing. each maiden, so they told me, put within her own cross her marriage lines. if this cross hath not been tampered with it should bear within its recess the attestation of the wedding of francisco de guzman and isabella zerega." "the cross hath never left my person," said alvarado, "since i can remember." "and i can bear testimony," said the viceroy, "that he hath worn it constantly since a child. though it was large and heavy i had a superstition that it should never leave his person. know you the secret of the cross?" "i do, for it was shown me by the woman herself." "step nearer, alvarado," said de lara. "nay, sir," said the aged priest, as alvarado came nearer him and made to take the cross from his breast, "thou hast worn it ever there. wear it to the end. i can open it as thou standest." he reached up to the carven cross depending from the breast of the young man bending over him. "a pretty story," sneered morgan again, "but had i aught to wager, i'd offer it with heavy odds that that cross holds the marriage lines of my wife." "thou wouldst lose, sir, for see, gentlemen," cried the priest, manipulating the crucifix with his long, slender fingers and finally opening it, "the opening! and here is a bit of parchment! read it, sir." he handed it to the viceroy. the old noble, lifting it to the light, scanned the closely-written, faded lines on the tiny scrap of delicate parchment. "'tis a certificate of marriage of----" he paused. "maria zerega," said morgan, triumphantly. "nay," answered the old man, and his triumph rung in his voice, "of isabella zerega and francisco de guzman." "hell and fury!" shouted the buccaneer, "'tis a trick!" "and signed by----" he stopped again, peering at the faded, almost illegible signature. "by whom, your excellency?" interrupted the priest smiling. "'tis a bit faded," said the old man, holding it nearer. "fra--an--tonio! was it thou?" "even so, sir. i married the mother, as i buried her yester eve upon the sand." "'tis a fact established," said the viceroy, satisfied at last. "don francisco de guzman, alvarado that was, thy birth and legitimacy are clear and undoubted. there by your side stands the woman you have loved. if you wish her now i shall be honored to call you my son." "my lord," answered alvarado, "that i am the son of an honorable gentleman were joy enough, but when thou givest me donna mercedes----" he turned, and with a low cry the girl fled to his arms. he drew her close to him and laid his hand upon her head, and then he kissed her before the assembled cavaliers, who broke into enthusiastic shouts and cries of happy approbation. "there's more evidence yet," cried the priest, thrusting his hand into the bosom of his habit and drawing forth a glittering object. "sir, i took this from the body of sister maria christina, for upon my advice she entered upon the service of the holy church after her bereavement, keeping her secret, for there was naught to be gained by its publication. that church she served long and well. many sufferers there be to whom she ministered who will rise up and call her blessed. she killed herself upon the sands rather than give aid and comfort to this man and his men, or submit herself to the evil desires of his band. sirs, i have lived long and suffered much, and done some little service for christ, his church, and his children, but i take more comfort from the absolution that i gave her when she cried for mercy against the sin of self-slaughter than for any other act in my career. here, young sir," said the priest, opening the locket, "are the pictures of your father and mother. see, cavaliers, some of you knew don francisco de guzman and can recognize him. that is his wife. she was young and had golden hair like thine, my son, in those days. you are the express image of her person as i recall it." "my father! my mother!" cried alvarado. "look, mercedes, look your excellency, and gentlemen, all! but her body, worthy father?" "even as her soul hath gone out into the new life beyond, her body was drawn out into the great deep at the call of god--but not unblessed, señors, even as she went not unshriven, for i knelt alone by her side, unable by my wounds and weakness to do more service, and said the office of our holy church." "may god bless thee, as i bless thee!" answered alvarado, to give him the familiar name. as he spoke he sank on his knees and pressed a long and fervent kiss upon the worn and withered hand of the aged man. "it is not meet," said the priest, withdrawing his hand and laying it in blessing upon the bowed fair head. "that which was lost is found again. let us rejoice and praise god for his mercy. donna mercedes, gentlemen, my blessing on señor de guzman and upon ye all. benedicite!" he said, making the sign of the cross. chapter xxiv in which sir henry morgan appeals unavailingly alike to the pity of woman, the forgiveness of priest, the friendship of comrade, and the hatred of men "and bless me also, my father," cried mercedes, kneeling by alvarado's side. "most willingly, my fair daughter," answered the old man. "a fit helpmate indeed thou hast shown thyself for so brave a soldier. by your leave, your excellency. you will indulge an old man's desire to bless the marriage of the son as he did that of the mother? no obstacle, i take it, now exists to prevent this most happy union." "none," answered the viceroy, as the young people rose and stood before him, "and glad i am that this happy solution of our difficulties has come to pass." "and when, sir," questioned the priest further, "may i ask that you design----" "the sooner the better," said the viceroy smiling grimly. "by the mass, reverend father, i'll feel easier when he hath her in his charge!" "i shall prove as obedient to thee as wife, don francisco----" said mercedes with great spirit, turning to him. "nay, call me alvarado, sweet lady," interrupted her lover. "alvarado then, if you wish--for it was under that name that i first loved thee--i shall prove as obedient a wife to thee as i was a dutiful daughter to thee, my father." "'tis not saying o'er much," commented the viceroy, but smiling more kindly as he said the words. "nay, i'll take that back, mercedes, or modify it. thou hast, indeed, been to me all that a father could ask, until----" "'twas my fault, your excellency. on me be the punishment," interrupted the lover. "thou shalt have it with mercedes," answered the viceroy, laughing broadly now. "what say ye, gentlemen?" "my lord," said agramonte, from his age and rank assuming to speak for the rest, "there is not one of us who would not give all he possessed to stand in the young lord de guzman's place." "well, well," continued the old man, "when we have restored order in the town we shall have a wedding ceremony--say to-morrow." "ay, ay, to-morrow, to-morrow!" cried the cavaliers. "your excellency, there is one more thing yet to be done," said alvarado as soon as he could be heard. "art ever making objections, captain alvarado--don francisco, that is. we might think you had reluctance to the bridal," exclaimed the viceroy in some little surprise. "what is it now?" "the punishment of this man." "i gave him into your hands." "by god!" shouted old hornigold, "i wondered if in all this fathering and mothering and sweethearting and giving in marriage he had forgot----" "not so. the postponement but makes it deeper," answered alvarado gravely. "rest satisfied." "and i shall have my revenge in full measure?" "in full, in overflowing measure, señor." "do you propose to shoot me?" asked the buccaneer chieftain coolly. "or behead me?" "that were a death for an honorable soldier taken in arms and forced to bide the consequences of his defeat. it is not meet for you," answered alvarado. "what then? you'll not hang me? me! a knight of england! sometime governor of jamaica!" "these titles are nothing to me. and hanging is the death we visit upon the common criminal, a man who murders or steals, or blasphemes. your following may expect that. for you there is----" "you don't mean to burn me alive, do you?" "were you simply a heretic that might be meet, but you are worse----" "what do you mean?" cried the buccaneer, carried away by the cold-blooded menace in alvarado's words. "neither lead, nor steel, nor rope, nor fire!" "neither one nor the other, sir." "is it the wheel? the rack? the thumbscrew? sink me, ye shall see how an englishman can die! even from these i flinch not." "nor need you, from these, for none of them shall be used," continued the young soldier, with such calculating ferocity in his voice that in spite of his dauntless courage and intrepidity the blood of morgan froze within his veins. "death and destruction!" he shouted. "what is there left?" "you shall die, señor, not so much by the hand of man as by the act of god." "god! i believe in none. there is no god!" "that you shall see." "your excellency, my lords! i appeal to you to save me from this man, not my son but my nephew----" "s'death, sirrah!" shouted the viceroy, enraged beyond measure by the allusion to any relationship, "not a drop of your base blood pollutes his veins. i have given you over to him. he will attend to you." "what means he to do then?" "you shall see." "when?" "to-morrow." the sombre, sinister, although unknown purpose of the spaniards had new terrors lent to it by the utter inability of the buccaneer to foresee what was to be his punishment. he was a man of the highest courage, the stoutest heart, yet in that hour he was astonied. his knees smote together; he clenched his teeth in a vain effort to prevent their chattering. all his devilry, his assurance, his fortitude, his strength, seemed to leave him. he stood before them suddenly an old, a broken man, facing a doom portentous and terrible, without a spark of strength or resolution left to meet it, whatever it might be. and for the first time in his life he played the craven, the coward. he moistened his dry lips and looked eagerly from one face to another in the dark and gloomy ring that encircled him. "lady," he said at last, turning to mercedes as the most likely of his enemies to befriend him, "you are a woman. you should be tender hearted. you don't want to see an old man, old enough to be your father, suffer some unknown, awful torture? plead for me! ask your lover. he will refuse you nothing now." there was a dead silence in the room. mercedes stared at the miserable wretch making his despairing appeal as if she were fascinated. "answer him," said her stern old father, "as a spanish gentlewoman should." it was a grim and terrible age. the gospel under which all lived in those days was not that of the present. it was a gospel writ in blood, and fire, and steel. "an eye for an eye," said the girl slowly, "a tooth for a tooth, life for life, shame for shame," her voice rising until it rang through the room. "in the name of my ruined sisters, whose wails come to us this instant from without, borne hither on the night wind, i refuse to intercede for you, monster. for myself, the insults you have put upon me, i might forgive, but not the rest. the taking of one life like yours can not repay." "you hear?" cried alvarado. "take him away." "one moment," cried morgan. "holy father--your religion--it teaches to forgive they say. intercede for me!" his eyes turned with faint hope toward the aged priest. "not for such as thou," answered the old man looking from him. "i could forgive this," he touched his battered tonsure, "and all thou hast done against me and mine. that is not little, for when i was a lad, a youth, before i took the priestly yoke upon me, i loved maria zerega--but that is nothing. what suffering comes upon me i can bear, but thou hast filled the cup of iniquity and must drain it to the dregs. hark ye--the weeping of the desolated town! i can not interfere! they that take the sword shall perish by it. it is so decreed. you believe not in god----" "i will! i do!" cried the buccaneer, clutching at the hope. "i shall pray for thee, that is all." "hornigold," cried the now almost frenzied man, his voice hoarse with terror and weakness, "they owe much to you. without you they had not been here. i have wronged you grievously--terribly--but i atone by this. beg them, not to let me go but only to kill me where i stand! they will not refuse you. had it not been for you this man would not have known his father. he could not have won this woman. you have power. you'll not desert an old comrade in his extremity? think, we have stood together sword in hand and fought our way through all obstacles in many a desperate strait. thou and i, old shipmate. by the memory of that old association, by the love you once bore me, and by that i gave to you, ask them for my death, here--now--at once!" "you ask for grace from me!" snarled hornigold savagely, yet triumphant. "you--you hanged my brother----" "i know, i know! 'twas a grievous error. i shall be punished for all--ask them to shoot me--hang me----" he slipped to his knees, threw himself upon the floor, and lay grovelling at hornigold's feet. "don't let them torture me, man! my god, what is it they intend to do to me?" "beg, you hound!" cried the boatswain, spurning him with his foot. "i have you where i swore i'd bring you. and, remember, 'tis i that laid you low--i--i--" he shrieked like a maniac. "when you suffer in that living death for which they design you, remember with every lingering breath of anguish that it was i who brought you there! you trifled with me--mocked me--betrayed me. you denied my request. i grovelled at your feet and begged you--you spurned me as i do you now. curse you! i'll ask no mercy for you!" "my lord," gasped out morgan, turning to the viceroy in one final appeal, as two of the men dragged him to his feet again, "i have treasure. the galleon we captured--it is buried--i can lead you there." "there is not a man of your following," said the viceroy, "who would not gladly purchase life by the same means." "and 'tis not needed," said the boatswain, "for i have told them where it lies." "if teach were here," said morgan, "he would stand by me." a man forced his way into the circle carrying a sack in his hand. drawing the strings he threw the contents at the feet of the buccaneer, and there rolled before him the severed head of the only man save black dog upon whom he could have depended, his solitary friend. morgan staggered back in horror from the ghastly object, staring at it as if fascinated. [illustration: ... he threw the contents at the feet of the buccaneer, and there rolled before him the severed head of ... his solitary friend.] "ha, ha! ho, ho!" laughed the old boatswain. "what was it that he sang? 'we'll be damnably mouldy'--ay, even you and i captain--'an hundred years hence.' but should you live so long, you'll not forget 'twas i." "you didn't betray me then, my young comrade," whispered morgan, looking down at the severed head. "you fought until you were killed. would that my head might lie by your side." he had been grovelling, pleading, weeping, beseeching, but the utter uselessness of it at last came upon him and some of his courage returned. he faced them once more with head uplifted. "at your will, i'm ready," he cried. "i defy you! you shall see how harry morgan can die. scuttle me, i'll not give way again!" "take him away," said alvarado; "we'll attend to him in the morning." "wait! give me leave, since i am now tried and condemned, to say a word." a cunning plan had flashed into the mind of morgan, and he resolved to put it in execution. "it has been a long life, mine, and a merry one. there's more blood upon my hands--spanish blood, gentlemen--than upon those of any other human being. there was puerto principe. were any of you there? the men ran like dogs before me there and left the women and children. i wiped my feet upon your accursed spanish flag. i washed the blood from my hands with hair torn from the heads of your wives, your sweethearts, and you had not courage to defend them!" a low murmur of rage swept through the room. "but that's not all. some of you perhaps were at porto bello. i drove the women of the convents to the attack, as in this city yesterday. when i finished i burned the town--it made a hot fire. i did it--i--who stand here! i and that cursed one-eyed traitor hornigold, there!" the room was in a tumult now. shouts, and curses, and imprecations broke forth. weapons were bared, raised, and shaken at him. the buccaneer laughed and sneered, ineffable contempt pictured on his face. "and some of you were at santa clara, at chagres, and here in venezuela at maracaibo, where we sunk the ships and burned your men up like rats. then, there was panama. we left the men to starve and die. your mother, señor agramonte--what became of her? your sister, there! your wife, here! the sister of your mother, you young dog--what became of them all? hell was let loose in this town yesterday. panama was worse than la guayra. i did it--i--harry morgan's way!" he thrust himself into the very faces of the men, and with cries of rage they rushed upon him. they brushed aside the old viceroy, drowning his commands with their shouts. had it not been for the interference of hornigold and alvarado they would have cut morgan to pieces where he stood. and this had been his aim--to provoke them beyond measure by a recital of some of his crimes so that he would be killed in their fury. but the old boatswain with superhuman strength seized the bound captain and forced him into a corner behind a table, while alvarado with lightning resolution beat down the menacing sword points. "back!" he cried. "do you not see he wished to provoke this to escape just punishment? i would have silenced him instantly but i thought ye could control yourselves. i let him rave on that he might be condemned out of his own mouth, that none could have doubt that he merits death at our hands to-morrow. sheath your weapons instantly, gentlemen!" he cried. "ay," said the viceroy, stepping into the crowd and endeavoring to make himself heard, "under pain of my displeasure. what, soldiers, nobles, do ye turn executioners in this way?" "my mother----" "my sister----" "the women and children----" "the insult to the flag----" "the disgrace to the spanish name!" "that he should say these things and live!" "peace, sirs, he will not say words like these to-morrow. now, we have had enough. see!" cried the old viceroy, pointing to the windows, "the day breaks. take him away. agramonte, to you i commit the fort. mercedes, alvarado, come with me. those who have no duties to perform, go get some sleep. as for you, prisoner, if you have preparation to make, do so at once, for in the morning you shall have no opportunity." "i am ready now!" cried morgan recklessly, furious because he had been balked in his attempt. "do with me as you will! i have had my day, and it has been a long and merry one." "and i mine, to-night. it has been short, but enough," laughed hornigold, his voice ringing like a maniac's in the hall. "for i have had my revenge!" "we shall take care of that in the morning," said alvarado, turning away to follow the viceroy and mercedes. book vi in which the career of sir henry morgan is ended on isla de la tortuga, to the great delectation of master benjamin hornigold, his sometime friend chapter xxv and last. wherein is seen how the judgment of god came upon the buccaneers in the end before it was submerged by the great earthquake which so tremendously overwhelmed the shores of south america with appalling disaster nearly a century and a half later, a great arid rock on an encircling stretch of sandy beach--resultant of untold centuries of struggle between stone and sea--thrust itself above the waters a few miles northward of the coast of venezuela. the cay was barren and devoid of any sort of life except for a single clump of bushes that had sprung up a short distance from the huge rock upon a little plateau sufficiently elevated to resist the attacks of the sea, which at high tide completely overflowed the islet except at that one spot. four heavy iron staples had been driven with great difficulty into holes drilled in the face of the volcanic rock. to these four large chains had been made fast. the four chains ended in four fetters and the four fetters enclosed the ankles and wrists of a man. the length of the four chains had been so cunningly calculated that the arms and legs of the man were drawn far apart, so that he resembled a gigantic white cross against the dark surface of the stone. a sailor would have described his position by saying that he had been "spread-eagled" by those who had fastened him there. yet the chains were not too short to allow a little freedom of motion. he could incline to one side or to the other, lift himself up or down a little, or even thrust himself slightly away from the face of the rock. the man was in tatters, for his clothing had been rent and torn by the violent struggles he had made before he had been securely fastened in his chains. he was an old man, and his long gray hair fell on either side of his lean, fierce face in tangled masses. a strange terror of death--the certain fate that menaced him, was upon his countenance. he had borne himself bravely enough except for a few craven moments, while in the presence of his captors and judges, chief among whom had been the young spanish soldier and the one-eyed sailor whom he had known for so many years. with the bravado of despair he had looked with seeming indifference on the sufferings of his own men that same morning. after being submitted to the tortures of the rack, the boot, the thumbscrew, or the wheel, in accordance with the fancy of their relentless captors, they had been hanged to the outer walls and he had been forced to pass by them on his way to this hellish spot. but the real courage of the man was gone now. his simulation had not even been good enough to deceive his enemies, and now even that had left him. he was alone, so he believed, upon the island, and all of the mortal fear slowly creeping upon him already appeared in his awful face, clearly exhibited by the light of the setting sun streaming upon his left hand for he was chained facing northward, that is, seaward. as he fancied himself the only living thing upon that island he took little care to conceal his emotions--indeed, it was impossible for him any longer to keep up the pretence of indifference. his nerves were shattered, his spirit broken. retribution was dogging him hard. vengeance was close at hand at last. besides, what mattered it? he thought himself alone, absolutely alone. but in that fancy he was wrong, for in the solitary little copse of bushes of which mention has been made there lay hidden a man--an ancient sailor. his single eye gleamed as fiercely upon the bound, shackled prisoner as did the setting sun itself. old benjamin hornigold, who had schemed and planned for his revenge, had insisted upon being put ashore on the other side of the island after the boats had rowed out of sight of the captive, that he might steal back and, himself unseen, watch the torture of the man who had betrayed him and wronged him so deeply that in his diseased mind no expiation could be too awful for the crime; that he might glut his fierce old soul with the sight for which it had longed since the day harry morgan, beholden to him as he was for his very life and fortune, for a thousand brave and faithful, if nefarious, services, had driven him like a dog from his presence. alvarado--who, being a spaniard, could sympathize and understand the old sailor's lust for revenge--had readily complied with his request, and had further promised to return for the boatswain in two days. they calculated nicely that the already exhausted prisoner would scarcely survive that long, and provisions and water ample for that period had been left for the sustenance of hornigold--alone. morgan, however, did not know this. he believed his only companions to be the body of the half-breed who had died for him as he had lived for him, and the severed head of a newer comrade who had not betrayed him. the body lay almost at his feet; the head had been wedged in the sand so that its sightless face was turned toward him in the dreadful, lidless staring gaze of sudden death. and those two were companions with whom he could better have dispensed, even in his solitude. they had said to the buccaneer, as they fastened him to the rocks, that they would not take his life, but that he would be left to the judgment of god. what would that be? he thought he knew. he had lived long enough on the caribbean to know the habits of that beautiful and cruel sea. there was a little stretch of sand at his feet and then the water began. he estimated that the tide had been ebbing for an hour or so when he was fastened up and abandoned. the rock to which he had been chained was still wet, and he noticed that the dampness existed far above his head. the water would recede--and recede--and recede--until perhaps some three hundred feet of bare sand would stretch before him, and then it would turn and come back, back, back. where would it stop? how high would it rise? would it flood in in peaceful calm as it was then drawing away? would it come crashing in heavy assault upon the sands as it generally did, beating out his life against the rock? he could not tell. he gazed at it intently so long as there was light, endeavoring to decide the momentous question. to watch it was something to do. it gave him mental occupation, and so he stared and stared at the slowly withdrawing water-line. of the two he thought he should prefer a storm. he would be beaten to pieces, the life battered out of him horribly in that event; but that would be a battle, a struggle,--action. he could fight, if he could not wait and endure. it would be a terrible death, but it would be soon over and, therefore, he preferred it to the slow horror of watching the approach of the waters creeping in and up to drown him. the chief agony of his position, however, the most terrifying feature in this dreadful situation to which his years of crime had at last brought him, was that he was allowed no choice. he had always been a man of swift, prompt, bold action; self-reliant, fearless, resolute, a master not a server; accustomed to determine events in accordance with his own imperious will, and wont to bring them about as he planned. to be chained there, impotent, helpless, waiting, indeed, the judgment of god, was a thing which it seemed impossible for him to bear. the indecision of it, the uncertainty of it, added to his helplessness and made it the more appalling to him. the judgment of god! he had never believed in a god since his boyhood days, and he strove to continue in his faithlessness now. he had been a brave man, dauntless and intrepid, but cold, paralyzing fear now gripped him by the heart. a few lingering sparks of the manhood and courage of the past that not even his crimes had deprived him of still remained in his being, however, and he strove as best he might to control the beating of his heart, to still the trembling of his arms and legs which shook the chains against the stone face of the rock making them ring out in a faint metallic clinking, which was the sweetest music that had ever pierced the eager hollow of the ear of the silent listener and watcher concealed in the thicket. so long as it was light morgan intently watched the sea. there was a sense of companionship in it which helped to alleviate his unutterable loneliness. and he was a man to whom loneliness in itself was a punishment. there were too many things in the past that had a habit of making their presence felt when he was alone, for him ever to desire to be solitary. presently the sun disappeared with the startling suddenness of tropic latitudes, and without twilight darkness fell over the sea and over his haggard face like a veil. the moon had not yet risen and he could see nothing. there were a few faint clouds on the horizon, he had noticed, which might presage a storm. it was very dark and very still, as calm and peaceful a tropic night as ever shrouded the caribbean. farther and farther away from him he could hear the rustle of the receding waves as the tide went down. over his head twinkled the stars out of the deep darkness. in that vast silence he seemed to hear a voice, still and small, talking to him in a faint whisper that yet pierced the very centre of his being. all that it said was one word repeated over and over again, "god--god--god!" the low whisper beat into his brain and began to grow there, rising louder and louder in its iteration until the whole vaulted heaven throbbed with the ringing sound of it. he listened--listened--it seemed for hours--until his heart burst within him. at last he screamed and screamed, again and again, "yes--yes! now i know--i know!" and still the sound beat on. he saw strange shapes in the darkness. one that rose and rose, and grew and grew, embracing all the others until its head seemed to touch the stars, and ever it spoke that single word "god--god--god!" he could not close his eyes, but if he had been able to raise his hand he would have hid his face. the wind blew softly, it was warm and tender, yet the man shivered with cold, the sweat beaded his brow. then the moon sprang up as suddenly as the sun had fallen. her silver radiance flooded the firmament. light, heavenly light once more! he was alone. the voice was still; the shadow left him. far away from him the white line of the water was breaking on the silver sand. his own cry came back to him and frightened him in the dead silence. now the tide turned and came creeping in. it had gone out slowly; it had lingered as if reluctant to leave him; but to his distraught vision it returned with the swiftness of a thousand white horses tossing their wind-blown manes. the wind died down; the clouds were dissipated. the night was so very calm, it mocked the storm raging in his soul. and still the silvered water came flooding in; gently--tenderly--caressingly--the little waves lapped the sands. at last they lifted the ghastly head of young teach--he'd be damnably mouldy a hundred years hence!--and laid it at his feet. he cursed the rising water, and bade it stay--and heedlessly it came on. it was a tropic sea and the waters were as warm as those of any sun-kissed ocean, but they broke upon his knees with the coldness of eternal ice. they rolled the heavier body of his faithful slave against him--he strove to drive it away with his foot as he had striven to thrust aside the ghastly head, and without avail. the two friends receded as the waves rolled back but they came on again, and again, and again. they had been faithful to him in life, they remained with him in death. now the water broke about his waist; now it rose to his breast. he was exhausted; worn out. he hung silent, staring. his mind was busy; his thought went back to that rugged welsh land where he had been born. he saw himself a little boy playing in the fields that surrounded the farmhouse of his father and mother. he took again that long trip across the ocean. he lived again in the hot hell of the caribbean. old forms of forgotten buccaneers clustered about him. mansfelt, under whom he had first become prominent himself. there on the horizon rose the walls of a sleeping town. with his companions he slowly crept forward through the underbrush, slinking along like a tiger about to spring upon its prey. the doomed town flamed before his eyes. the shrieks of men, the prayers of women, the piteous cries of little children came into his ears across forty years. cannon roared in his ear--the crash of splintered wood, the despairing appeals for mercy, for help, from drowning mariners, as he stood upon a bloody deck watching the rolling of a shattered, sinking ship. was that water, spray from some tossing wave, or blood, upon his hand? the water was higher now; it was at his neck. there were porto bello, puerto principe, and maracaibo, and chagres and panama--ah, panama! all the fiends of hell had been there, and he had been their chief! they came back now to mock him. they pointed at him, gibbered upon him, threatened him, and laughed--great god, how they laughed! there was pale-faced, tender-eyed maria zerega who had died of the plague, and the baby, the boy. jamaica, too, swept into his vision. there was his wife shrinking away from him in the very articles of death. there was young ebenezer hornigold, dancing right merrily upon the gallows together with others of the buccaneers he had hanged. the grim figure of the one-eyed boatswain rose before him and leered upon him and swept the other apparitions away. this was la guayra--yesterday. he had been betrayed. whose men were those? the men hanging on the walls? and hornigold had done it--old ben hornigold--that he thought so faithful. he screamed aloud again with hate, he called down curses upon the head of the growing one-eyed apparition. and the water broke into his mouth and stopped him. it called him to his senses for a moment. his present peril overcame the hideous recollection of the past. that water was rising still. great god! at last he prayed. lips that had only cursed shaped themselves into futile petitions. there was a god, after all. the end was upon him, yet with the old instinct of life he lifted himself upon his toes. he raised his arms as far as the chains gave him play and caught the chains themselves and strove to pull, to lift, at last only to hold himself up, a rigid, awful figure. he gained an inch or two, but his fetters held him down. as the water supported him he found little difficulty in maintaining the position for a space. but he could go no higher--if the water rose an inch more that would be the end. he could breathe only between the breaking waves now. the body of the black was swung against him again and again; the head of young teach kissed him upon the cheek; and still the water seemed to rise, and rise, and rise. he was a dead man like the other two, indeed he prayed to die, and yet in fear he clung to the chains and held on. each moment he fancied would be his last. but he could not let go. oh, god! how he prayed for a storm; that one fierce wave might batter him to pieces; but the waters were never more calm than on that long, still night, the sea never more peaceful than in those awful hours. by and by the waters fell. he could not believe it at first. he still hung suspended and waited with bated breath. was he deceived? no, the waters were surely falling. the seconds seemed minutes to him, the minutes, hours. at last he gained assurance. there was no doubt but that the tide was going down. the waves had risen far, but he had been lifted above them; now they were falling, falling! yes, and they were bearing away that accursed body and that ghastly head. he was alive still, saved for the time being. the highest waves only touched his breast now. lower--lower--they moved away. reluctantly they lingered; but they fell, they fell. to drown? that was not the judgment of god for him then. what would it be? his head fell forward on his breast--he had fainted in the sudden relief of his undesired salvation. long time he hung there and still the tide ebbed away, carrying with it all that was left of the only two who had loved him. he was alone now, surely, save for that watcher in the bushes. after a while consciousness returned to him again, and after the first swift sense of relief there came to him a deeper terror, for he had gone through the horror and anguish of death and had not died. he was alive still, but as helpless as before. what had the power he had mocked designed for his end? was he to watch that ghastly tide come in again and rise, and rise, and rise until it caught him by the throat and threatened to choke him, only to release him as before? was he to go through that daily torture until he starved or died of thirst? he had not had a bite to eat, a drop to drink, since the day before. it was morning now. on his right hand the sun sprang from the ocean bed with the same swiftness with which it had departed the night before. like the tide, it, too, rose, and rose. there was not a cloud to temper the fierceness with which it beat upon his head, not a breath of air to blow across his fevered brow. the blinding rays struck him like hammers of molten iron. he stared at it out of his frenzied, blood-shot eyes and writhed beneath its blazing heat. before him the white sand burned like smelted silver, beyond him the tremulous ocean seemed to seethe and bubble under the furious fire of the glowing heaven above his head--a vault of flaming topaz over a sapphire sea. he closed his eyes, but could not shut out the sight--and then the dreams of night came on him again. his terrors were more real, more apparent, more appalling, because he saw his dreaded visions in the full light of day. by and by these faded as the others had done. all his faculties were merged into one consuming desire for water--water. the thirst was intolerable. unless he could get some his brain would give way. he was dying, dying, dying! oh, god, he could not die, he was not ready to die! oh, for one moment of time, for one drop of water--god--god--god! suddenly before his eyes there arose a figure. at first he fancied it was another of the apparitions which had companied with him during the awful night and morning; but this was a human figure, an old man, bent, haggard like himself with watching, but with a fierce mad joy in his face. where had he come from? who was he? what did he want? the figure glared upon the unhappy man with one fiery eye, and then he lifted before the captive's distorted vision something--what was it--a cup of water? water--god in heaven--water brimming over the cup! it was just out of reach of his lips--so cool, so sweet, so inviting! he strained at his chains, bent his head, thrust his lips out. he could almost touch it--not quite! he struggled and struggled and strove to break his fetters, but without avail. those fetters could not be broken by the hand of man. he could not drink--ah, god!--then he lifted his blinded eyes and searched the face of the other. "hornigold!" he whispered hoarsely with his parched and stiffened lips. "is it thou?" a deep voice beat into his consciousness. "ay. i wanted to let you know there was water here. you must be thirsty. you'd like a drink? so would i. there is not enough for both of us. who will get it? i. look!" "not all, not all!" screamed the old captain faintly, as the other drained the cup. "a little! a drop for me!" "not one drop," answered hornigold, "not one drop! if you were in hell and i held a river in my hand, you would not get a drop! it's gone." he threw the cup from him. "i brought you to this--i! do you recall it? you owe this to me. you had your revenge--this is mine. but it's not over yet. i'm watching you. i shall not come out here again, but i'm watching you, remember that! i can see you!" "hornigold, for god's sake, have pity!" "you know no god; you have often boasted of it--neither do i. and you never knew pity--neither do i!" [illustration: "i wanted to let you know there was water here ... there is not enough for both of us. who will get it? i; look!"] "take that knife you bear--kill me!" "i don't want you to die--not yet. i want you to live--live--a long time, and remember!" "hornigold, i'll make amends! i'll be your slave!" "ay, crawl and cringe now, you dog! i swore that you should do it! it's useless to beg me for mercy. i know not that word--neither did you. there is nothing left in me but hate--hate for you. i want to see you suffer----" "the tide! it's coming back. i can't endure this heat and thirst! it won't drown me----" "live, then," said the boatswain. "remember, i watch!" he threw his glance upward, stopped suddenly, a fierce light in that old eye of his. "look up," he cried, "and you will see! take heart, man. i guess you won't have to wait for the tide, and the sun won't bother you long. remember, i am watching you!" he turned and walked away, concealing himself in the copse once more where he could see and not be seen. the realization that he was watched by one whom he could not see, one who gloated over his miseries and sufferings and agonies, added the last touch to the torture of the buccaneer. he had no longer strength nor manhood, he no longer cried out after that one last appeal to the merciless sailor. he did not even look up in obedience to the old man's injunction. what was there above him, beneath him, around him, that could add to his fear? he prayed for death. they were the first and last prayers that had fallen from his lips for fifty years, those that day. yet when death did come at last he shrank from it with an increasing terror and horror that made all that he had passed through seem like a trifle. when old hornigold had looked up he had seen a speck in the vaulted heaven. it was slowly soaring around and around in vast circles, and with each circle coming nearer and nearer to the ground. a pair of keen and powerful eyes were aloft there piercing the distance, looking, searching, in every direction, until at last their glance fell upon the figure upon the rock. the circling stopped. there was a swift rush through the air. a black feathered body passed between the buccaneer and the sun, and a mighty vulture, hideous bird of the tropics, alighted on the sands near by him. [illustration: hell had no terror like to this, which he, living, suffered.] so this was the judgment of god upon this man! for a second his tortured heart stopped its beating. he stared at the unclean thing, and then he shrank back against the rock and screamed with frantic terror. the bird moved heavily back a little distance and stopped, peering at him. he could see it by turning his head. he could drive it no farther. in another moment there was another rush through the air, another, another! he screamed again. still they came, until it seemed as if the earth and the heavens were black with the horrible birds. high in the air they had seen the first one swooping to the earth, and with unerring instinct, as was their habit, had turned and made for the point from which the first had dropped downward to the shore. they circled themselves about him. they sat upon the rock above him. they stared at him with their lustful, carrion, jeweled eyes out of their loathsome, featherless, naked heads, drawing nearer--nearer--nearer. he could do no more. his voice was gone. his strength was gone. he closed his eyes, but the sight was still before him. his bleeding, foamy lips mumbled one unavailing word: "hornigold!" from the copse there came no sound, no answer. he sank forward in his chains, his head upon his breast, convulsive shudders alone proclaiming faltering life. hell had no terror like to this which he, living, suffered. there was a weight upon his shoulder now fierce talons sank deep into his quivering flesh. in front of his face, before a pair of lidless eyes that glowed like fire, a hellish, cruel beak struck at him. a faint, low, ghastly cry trembled through the still air. * * * * * and the resistless tide came in. a man drove away the birds at last before they had quite taken all, for the torn arms still hung in the iron fetters; an old man, blind of one eye, the black patch torn off the hideous hole that had replaced the socket. he capered with the nimbleness of youth before the ghastly remains of humanity still fastened to that rock. he shouted and screamed, and laughed and sang. the sight had been too horrible even for him. he was mad, crazy; his mind was gone. he had his revenge, and it had eaten him up. the waters dashed, about his feet and seemed to awaken some new idea in his disordered brain. "what!" he cried, "the tide is in. up anchor, lads! we must beat out to sea. captain, i'll follow you. harry morgan's way to lead--old ben hornigold's to follow--ha, ha! ho, ho!" he waded out into the water, slowly going deeper and deeper. a wave swept him off his feet. a hideous laugh came floating back over the sea, and then he struck out, and out, and out---- * * * * * and so the judgment of god was visited upon sir henry morgan and his men at last, and as it was writ of old: _with what measure they had meted out, it had been measured back to them again!_ [illustration] the buccaneers in the west indies in the xvii century by c.h. haring with ten maps and illustrations methuen & co. ltd. essex street w.c. london _first published in _ preface the principal facts about the exploits of the english and french buccaneers of the seventeenth century in the west indies are sufficiently well known to modern readers. the french jesuit historians of the antilles have left us many interesting details of their mode of life, and exquemelin's history of the freebooters has been reprinted numerous times both in france and in england. based upon these old, contemporary narratives, modern accounts are issued from the press with astonishing regularity, some of them purporting to be serious history, others appearing in the more popular and entertaining guise of romances. all, however, are alike in confining themselves for their information to what may almost be called the traditional sources--exquemelin, the jesuits, and perhaps a few narratives like those of dampier and wafer. to write another history of these privateers or pirates, for they have, unfortunately, more than once deserved that name, may seem a rather fruitless undertaking. it is justified only by the fact that there exist numerous other documents bearing upon the subject, documents which till now have been entirely neglected. exquemelin has been reprinted, the story of the buccaneers has been re-told, yet no writer, whether editor or historian, has attempted to estimate the trustworthiness of the old tales by comparing them with these other sources, or to show the connection between the buccaneers and the history of the english colonies in the west indies. the object of this volume, therefore, is not only to give a narrative, according to the most authentic, available sources, of the more brilliant exploits of these sea-rovers, but, what is of greater interest and importance, to trace the policy pursued toward them by the english and french governments. the "buccaneers in the west indies" was presented as a thesis to the board of modern history of oxford university in may to fulfil the requirements for the degree of bachelor of letters. it was written under the supervision of c.h. firth, regius professor of modern history in oxford, and to him the writer owes a lasting debt of gratitude for his unfailing aid and sympathy during the course of preparation. c.h.h. oxford, contents preface chap. page i. introductory-- part i.--the spanish colonial system part ii.--the freebooters of the sixteenth century ii. the beginnings of the buccaneers iii. the conquest of jamaica iv. tortuga, - v. porto bello and panama vi. the government suppresses the buccaneers vii. the buccaneers turn pirate appendices - bibliography index list of illustrations map of the west indies _frontispiece_ from charlevoix' _histoire de s. domingue_. facing page spanish periagua from exquemelin's _histoire des aventuriers trevoux_, . buccaneer vessels from exquemelin's _histoire des aventuriers trevoux_, . a correct map of jamaica from the _royal magazine_, . map of san domingo from charlevoix' _histoire de s. domingue_. plan of the bay and town of portobelo from prevost d'exiles' _voyages_. the isthmus of darien from exquelmelin's _bucaniers_, - . 'the battel between the spaniards and the pyrats or buccaniers before the citty of panama' from exquemelin's _bucaniers of america_, - . plan of vera-cruz from charlevoix' _histoire de s. domingue_, . plan of the town and roadstead of cartegena and of the forts from baron de pontis' _relation de ce qui c'est fait la prise de carthagene_, bruxelles, . the buccaneers in the west indies in the xvii century chapter i introductory i.--the spanish colonial system at the time of the discovery of america the spaniards, as m. leroy-beaulieu has remarked, were perhaps less fitted than any other nation of western europe for the task of american colonization. whatever may have been the political _rôle_ thrust upon them in the sixteenth century by the hapsburg marriages, whatever certain historians may say of the grandeur and nobility of the spanish national character, spain was then neither rich nor populous, nor industrious. for centuries she had been called upon to wage a continuous warfare with the moors, and during this time had not only found little leisure to cultivate the arts of peace, but had acquired a disdain for manual work which helped to mould her colonial administration and influenced all her subsequent history. and when the termination of the last of these wars left her mistress of a united spain, and the exploitation of her own resources seemed to require all the energies she could muster, an entire new hemisphere was suddenly thrown open to her, and given into her hands by a papal decree to possess and populate. already weakened by the exile of the most sober and industrious of her population, the jews; drawn into a foreign policy for which she had neither the means nor the inclination; instituting at home an economic policy which was almost epileptic in its consequences, she found her strength dissipated, and gradually sank into a condition of economic and political impotence. christopher columbus, a genoese sailor in the service of the castilian crown, wishing to find a western route by sea to india and especially to zipangu (japan), the magic land described by the venetian traveller, marco polo, landed on th october , on "guanahani," one of the bahama islands. from "guanahani" he passed on to other islands of the same group, and thence to hispaniola, tortuga and cuba. returning to spain in march , he sailed again in september of the same year with seventeen vessels and persons, and this time keeping farther to the south, sighted porto rico and some of the lesser antilles, founded a colony on hispaniola, and discovered jamaica in . on a third voyage in he discovered trinidad, and coasted along the shores of south america from the orinoco river to the island of margarita. after a fourth and last voyage in - , columbus died at valladolid in , in the firm belief that he had discovered a part of the continent of asia. the entire circle of the antilles having thus been revealed before the end of the fifteenth century, the spaniards pushed forward to the continent. while hojida, vespucci, pinzon and de solis were exploring the eastern coast from la plata to yucatan, ponce de leon in discovered florida, and in vasco nunez de balboa descried the pacific ocean from the heights of darien, revealing for the first time the existence of a new continent. in magellan entered the pacific through the strait which bears his name, and a year later was killed in one of the philippine islands. within the next twenty years cortez had conquered the realm of montezuma, and pizarro the empire of peru; and thus within the space of two generations all of the west indies, north america to california and the carolinas, all of south america except brazil, which the error of cabral gave to the portuguese, and in the east the philippine islands and new guinea passed under the sway of the crown of castile. ferdinand and isabella in had consulted with several persons of eminent learning to find out whether it was necessary to obtain the investiture of the pope for their newly-discovered possessions, and all were of opinion that this formality was unnecessary.[ ] nevertheless, on rd may , a bull was granted by pope alexander vi., which divided the sovereignty of those parts of the world not possessed by any christian prince between spain and portugal by a meridian line leagues west of the azores or of cape verde. later spanish writers made much of this papal gift; yet, as georges scelle points out,[ ] it is possible that this bull was not so much a deed of conveyance, investing the spaniards with the proprietorship of america, as it was an act of ecclesiastical jurisdiction according them, on the strength of their acquired right and proven catholicism, a monopoly as it were in the propagation of the faith. at that time, even catholic princes were no longer accustomed to seek the pope's sanction when making a new conquest, and certainly in the domain of public law the pope was not considered to have temporal jurisdiction over the entire world. he did, however, intervene in temporal matters when they directly influenced spiritual affairs, and of this the propagation of the faith was an instance. as the compromise between spain and portugal was very indecisive, owing to the difference in longitude of the azores and cape verde, a second act was signed on th june , which placed the line of demarcation leagues farther to the west. the colonization of the spanish indies, on its social and administrative side, presents a curious contrast. on the one hand we see the spanish crown, with high ideals of order and justice, of religious and political unity, extending to its ultramarine possessions its faith, its language, its laws and its administration; providing for the welfare of the aborigines with paternal solicitude; endeavouring to restrain and temper the passions of the conquerors; building churches and founding schools and monasteries; in a word, trying to make its colonies an integral part of the spanish monarchy, "une société vieille dans une contrée neuve." some spanish writers, it is true, have exaggerated the virtues of their old colonial system; yet that system had excellences which we cannot afford to despise. if the spanish kings had not choked their government with procrastination and routine; if they had only taken their task a bit less seriously and had not tried to apply too strictly to an empty continent the paternal administration of an older country; we might have been privileged to witness the development and operation of as complete and benign a system of colonial government as has been devised in modern times. the public initiative of the spanish government, and the care with which it selected its colonists, compare very favourably with the opportunism of the english and the french, who colonized by chance private activity and sent the worst elements of their population, criminals and vagabonds, to people their new settlements across the sea. however much we may deprecate the treatment of the indians by the _conquistadores_, we must not forget that the greater part of the population of spanish america to-day is still indian, and that no other colonizing people have succeeded like the spaniards in assimilating and civilizing the natives. the code of laws which the spaniards gradually evolved for the rule of their transmarine provinces, was, in spite of defects which are visible only to the larger experience of the present day, one of the wisest, most humane and best co-ordinated of any to this day published for any colony. although the spaniards had to deal with a large population of barbarous natives, the word "conquest" was suppressed in legislation as ill-sounding, "because the peace is to be sealed," they said, "not with the sound of arms, but with charity and good-will."[ ] the actual results, however, of the social policy of the spanish kings fell far below the ideals they had set for themselves. the monarchic spirit of the crown was so strong that it crushed every healthy, expansive tendency in the new countries. it burdened the colonies with a numerous, privileged nobility, who congregated mostly in the larger towns and set to the rest of the colonists a pernicious example of idleness and luxury. in its zeal for the propagation of the faith, the crown constituted a powerfully endowed church, which, while it did splendid service in converting and civilizing the natives, engrossed much of the land in the form of mainmort, and filled the new world with thousands of idle, unproductive, and often licentious friars. with an innate distrust and fear of individual initiative, it gave virtual omnipotence to royal officials and excluded all creoles from public employment. in this fashion was transferred to america the crushing political and ecclesiastical absolutism of the mother country. self-reliance and independence of thought or action on the part of the creoles was discouraged, divisions and factions among them were encouraged and educational opportunities restricted, and the american-born spaniards gradually sank into idleness and lethargy, indifferent to all but childish honours and distinctions and petty local jealousies. to make matters worse, many of the spaniards who crossed the seas to the american colonies came not to colonize, not to trade or cultivate the soil, so much as to extract from the natives a tribute of gold and silver. the indians, instead of being protected and civilized, were only too often reduced to serfdom and confined to a laborious routine for which they had neither the aptitude nor the strength; while the government at home was too distant to interfere effectively in their behalf. driven by cruel taskmasters they died by thousands from exhaustion and despair, and in some places entirely disappeared. the crown of castile, moreover, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries sought to extend spanish commerce and monopolize all the treasure of the indies by means of a rigid and complicated commercial system. yet in the end it saw the trade of the new world pass into the hands of its rivals, its own marine reduced to a shadow of its former strength, its crews and its vessels supplied by merchants from foreign lands, and its riches diverted at their very source. this spanish commercial system was based upon two distinct principles. one was the principle of colonial exclusivism, according to which all the trade of the colonies was to be reserved to the mother country. spain on her side undertook to furnish the colonies with all they required, shipped upon spanish vessels; the colonies in return were to produce nothing but raw materials and articles which did not compete with the home products with which they were to be exchanged. the second principle was the mercantile doctrine which, considering as wealth itself the precious metals which are but its symbol, laid down that money ought, by every means possible, to be imported and hoarded, never exported.[ ] this latter theory, the fallacy of which has long been established, resulted in the endeavour of the spanish hapsburgs to conserve the wealth of the country, not by the encouragement of industry, but by the increase and complexity of imposts. the former doctrine, adopted by a non-producing country which was in no position to fulfil its part in the colonial compact, led to the most disastrous consequences. while the spanish crown was aiming to concentrate and monopolize its colonial commerce, the prosperity of spain itself was slowly sapped by reason of these mistaken economic theories. owing to the lack of workmen, the increase of imposts, and the prejudice against the mechanic arts, industry was being ruined; while the increased depopulation of the realm, the mainmort of ecclesiastical lands, the majorats of the nobility and the privileges of the mesta, brought agriculture rapidly into decay. the spaniards, consequently, could not export the products of their manufacture to the colonies, when they did not have enough to supply their own needs. to make up for this deficiency their merchants were driven to have recourse to foreigners, to whom they lent their names in order to elude a law which forbade commerce between the colonies and traders of other nations. in return for the manufactured articles of the english, dutch and french, and of the great commercial cities like genoa and hamburg, they were obliged to give their own raw materials and the products of the indies--wool, silks, wines and dried fruits, cochineal, dye-woods, indigo and leather, and finally, indeed, ingots of gold and silver. the trade in spain thus in time became a mere passive machine. already in it had been found impossible to furnish in less than six years the goods demanded by the merchants of spanish america. at the end of the seventeenth century, foreigners were supplying five-sixths of the manufactures consumed in spain itself, and engrossed nine-tenths of that american trade which the spaniards had sought so carefully to monopolize.[ ] in the colonies the most striking feature of spanish economic policy was its wastefulness. after the conquest of the new world, it was to the interest of the spaniards to gradually wean the native indians from barbarism by teaching them the arts and sciences of europe, to encourage such industries as were favoured by the soil, and to furnish the growing colonies with those articles which they could not produce themselves, and of which they stood in need. only thus could they justify their monopoly of the markets of spanish america. the same test, indeed, may be applied to every other nation which adopted the exclusivist system. queen isabella wished to carry out this policy, introduced into the newly-discovered islands wheat, the olive and the vine, and acclimatized many of the european domestic animals.[ ] her efforts, unfortunately, were not seconded by her successors, nor by the spaniards who went to the indies. in time the government itself, as well as the colonist, came to be concerned, not so much with the agricultural products of the indies, but with the return of the precious metals. natives were made to work the mines, while many regions adapted to agriculture, guiana, caracas and buenos ayres, were neglected, and the peopling of the colonies by europeans was slow. the emperor, charles v., did little to stem this tendency, but drifted along with the tide. immigration was restricted to keep the colonies free from the contamination of heresy and of foreigners. the spanish population was concentrated in cities, and the country divided into great estates granted by the crown to the families of the _conquistadores_ or to favourites at court. the immense areas of peru, buenos ayres and mexico were submitted to the most unjust and arbitrary regulations, with no object but to stifle growing industry and put them in absolute dependence upon the metropolis. it was forbidden to exercise the trades of dyer, fuller, weaver, shoemaker or hatter, and the natives were compelled to buy of the spaniards even the stuffs they wore on their backs. another ordinance prohibited the cultivation of the vine and the olive except in peru and chili, and even these provinces might not send their oil and wine to panama, gautemala or any other place which could be supplied from spain.[ ] to maintain the commercial monopoly, legitimate ports of entry in spanish america were made few and far apart--for mexico, vera cruz, for new granada, the town of cartagena. the islands and most of the other provinces were supplied by uncertain "vaisseaux de registre," while peru and chili, finding all direct commerce by the pacific or south sea interdicted, were obliged to resort to the fever-ridden town of porto bello, where the mortality was enormous and the prices increased tenfold. in spain, likewise, the colonial commerce was restricted to one port--seville. for in the estimation of the crown it was much more important to avoid being defrauded of its dues on import and export, than to permit the natural development of trade by those towns best fitted to acquire it. another reason, prior in point of time perhaps, why seville was chosen as the port for american trade, was that the indies were regarded as the exclusive appanage of the crown of castile, and of that realm seville was then the chief mercantile city. it was not a suitable port, however, to be distinguished by so high a privilege. only ships of less than tons were able to cross the bar of san lucar, and goods therefore had to be transhipped--a disability which was soon felt when traffic and vessels became heavier.[ ] the fact, nevertheless, that the official organization called the _casa dé contratacion_ was seated in seville, together with the influence of the vested interests of the merchants whose prosperity depended upon the retention of that city as the one port for indian commerce, were sufficient to bear down all opposition. the maritime towns of galicia and asturia, inhabited by better seamen and stronger races, often protested, and sometimes succeeded in obtaining a small share of the lucrative trade.[ ] but seville retained its primacy until , in which year the _contratacion_ was transferred to cadiz. the administration of the complex rules governing the commerce between spain and her colonies was entrusted to two institutions located at seville,--the _casa de contratacion_, mentioned above, and the _consulado_. the _casa de contratacion_, founded by royal decree as early as , was both a judicial tribunal and a house of commerce. nothing might be sent to the indies without its consent; nothing might be brought back and landed, either on the account of merchants or of the king himself, without its authorization. it received all the revenues accruing from the indies, not only the imposts on commerce, but also all the taxes remitted by colonial officers. as a consultative body it had the right to propose directly to the king anything which it deemed necessary to the development and organization of american commerce; and as a tribunal it possessed an absolute competence over all crimes under the common law, and over all infractions of the ordinances governing the trade of the indies, to the exclusion of every ordinary court. its jurisdiction began at the moment the passengers and crews embarked and the goods were put on board, and ended only when the return voyage and disembarkation had been completed.[ ] the civil jurisdiction of the _casa_ was much more restricted and disputes purely commercial in character between the merchants were reserved to the _consulado_, which was a tribunal of commerce chosen entirely by the merchants themselves. appeals in certain cases might be carried to the council of the indies.[ ] the first means adopted by the northern maritime nations to appropriate to themselves a share of the riches of the new world was open, semi-piratical attack upon the spanish argosies returning from those distant el dorados. the success of the norman and breton corsairs, for it was the french, not the english, who started the game, gradually forced upon the spaniards, as a means of protection, the establishment of great merchant fleets sailing periodically at long intervals and accompanied by powerful convoys. during the first half of the sixteenth century any ship which had fulfilled the conditions required for engaging in american commerce was allowed to depart alone and at any time of the year. from about , however, merchant vessels were ordered to sail together, and by a _cedula_ of july , the system of fleets was made permanent and obligatory. this decree prohibited any ship from sailing alone to america from cadiz or san lucar on pain of forfeiture of ship and cargo.[ ] two fleets were organized each year, one for terra firma going to cartagena and porto bello, the other designed for the port of san juan d'ulloa (vera cruz) in new spain. the latter, called the flota, was commanded by an "almirante," and sailed for mexico in the early summer so as to avoid the hurricane season and the "northers" of the mexican gulf. the former was usually called the galeones (_anglice_ "galleons"), was commanded by a "general," and sailed from spain earlier in the year, between january and march. if it departed in march, it usually wintered at havana and returned with the flota in the following spring. sometimes the two fleets sailed together and separated at guadaloupe, deseada or another of the leeward islands.[ ] the galleons generally consisted of from five to eight war-vessels carrying from forty to fifty guns, together with several smaller, faster boats called "pataches," and a fleet of merchantmen varying in number in different years. in the time of philip ii. often as many as forty ships supplied cartagena and porto bello, but in succeeding reigns, although the population of the indies was rapidly increasing, american commerce fell off so sadly that eight or ten were sufficient for all the trade of south and central america. the general of the galleons, on his departure, received from the council of the indies three sealed packets. the first, opened at the canaries, contained the name of the island in the west indies at which the fleet was first to call. the second was unsealed after the galleons arrived at cartagena, and contained instructions for the fleet to return in the same year or to winter in america. in the third, left unopened until the fleet had emerged from the bahama channel on the homeward voyage, were orders for the route to the azores and the islands they should touch in passing, usually corvo and flores or santa maria.[ ] the course of the galleons from san lucar was south-west to teneriffe on the african coast, and thence to the grand canary to call for provisions--considered in all a run of eight days. from the canaries one of the pataches sailed on alone to cartagena and porto bello, carrying letters and packets from the court and announcing the coming of the fleet. if the two fleets sailed together, they steered south-west from the canaries to about the latitude of deseada, ' ", and then catching the trade winds continued due west, rarely changing a sail until deseada or one of the other west indian islands was sighted. from deseada the galleons steered an easy course to cape de la vela, and thence to cartagena. when the galleons sailed from spain alone, however, they entered the caribbean sea by the channel between tobago and trinidad, afterwards named the galleons' passage. opposite margarita a second patache left the fleet to visit the island and collect the royal revenues, although after the exhaustion of the pearl fisheries the island lost most of its importance. as the fleet advanced into regions where more security was felt, merchant ships too, which were intended to unload and trade on the coasts they were passing, detached themselves during the night and made for caracas, santa marta or maracaibo to get silver, cochineal, leather and cocoa. the margarita patache, meanwhile, had sailed on to cumana and caracas to receive there the king's treasure, mostly paid in cocoa, the real currency of the country, and thence proceeded to cartagena to rejoin the galleons.[ ] the fleet reached cartagena ordinarily about two months after its departure from cadiz. on its arrival, the general forwarded the news to porto bello, together with the packets destined for the viceroy at lima. from porto bello a courier hastened across the isthmus to the president of panama, who spread the advice amongst the merchants in his jurisdiction, and, at the same time, sent a dispatch boat to payta, in peru. the general of the galleons, meanwhile, was also sending a courier overland to lima, and another to santa fe, the capital of the interior province of new granada, whence runners carried to popagan, antioquia, mariguita, and adjacent provinces, the news of his arrival.[ ] the galleons were instructed to remain at cartagena only a month, but bribes from the merchants generally made it their interest to linger for fifty or sixty days. to cartagena came the gold and emeralds of new granada, the pearls of margarita and rancherias, and the indigo, tobacco, cocoa and other products of the venezuelan coast. the merchants of gautemala, likewise, shipped their commodities to cartagena by way of lake nicaragua and the san juan river, for they feared to send goods across the gulf of honduras to havana, because of the french and english buccaneers hanging about cape san antonio.[ ] meanwhile the viceroy at lima, on receipt of his letters, ordered the armada of the south sea to prepare to sail, and sent word south to chili and throughout the province of peru from las charcas to quito, to forward the king's revenues for shipment to panama. within less than a fortnight all was in readiness. the armada, carrying a considerable treasure, sailed from callao and, touching at payta, was joined by the navio del oro (golden ship), which carried the gold from the province of quito and adjacent districts. while the galleons were approaching porto bello the south sea fleet arrived before panama, and the merchants of chili and peru began to transfer their merchandise on mules across the high back of the isthmus.[ ] then began the famous fair of porto bello.[ ] the town, whose permanent population was very small and composed mostly of negroes and mulattos, was suddenly called upon to accommodate an enormous crowd of merchants, soldiers and seamen. food and shelter were to be had only at extraordinary prices. when thomas gage was in porto bello in he was compelled to pay crowns for a very small, meanly-furnished room for a fortnight. merchants gave as much as crowns for a moderate-sized shop in which to sell their commodities. owing to overcrowding, bad sanitation, and an extremely unhealthy climate, the place became an open grave, ready to swallow all who resorted there. in , during the fifteen days that the galleons remained at porto bello, men died of sickness. meanwhile, day by day, the mule-trains from panama were winding their way into the town. gage in one day counted mules laden with wedges of silver, which were unloaded in the market-place and permitted to lie about like heaps of stones in the streets, without causing any fear or suspicion of being lost.[ ] while the treasure of the king of spain was being transferred to the galleons in the harbour, the merchants were making their trade. there was little liberty, however, in commercial transactions, for the prices were fixed and published beforehand, and when negotiations began exchange was purely mechanical. the fair, which was supposed to be open for forty days, was, in later times, generally completed in ten or twelve. at the beginning of the eighteenth century the volume of business transacted was estimated to amount to thirty or forty million pounds sterling.[ ] in view of the prevailing east wind in these regions, and the maze of reefs, cays and shoals extending far out to sea from the mosquito coast, the galleons, in making their course from porto bello to havana, first sailed back to cartagena upon the eastward coast eddy, so as to get well to windward of nicaragua before attempting the passage through the yucatan channel.[ ] the fleet anchored at cartagena a second time for ten or twelve days, where it was rejoined by the patache of margarita[ ] and by the merchant ships which had been sent to trade in terra-firma. from cartagena, too, the general sent dispatches to spain and to havana, giving the condition of the vessels, the state of trade, the day when he expected to sail, and the probable time of arrival.[ ] for when the galleons were in the indies all ports were closed by the spaniards, for fear that precious information of the whereabouts of the fleet and of the value of its cargo might inconveniently leak out to their rivals. from cartagena the course was north-west past jamaica and the caymans to the isle of pines, and thence round capes corrientes and san antonio to havana. the fleet generally required about eight days for the journey, and arrived at havana late in the summer. here the galleons refitted and revictualled, received tobacco, sugar, and other cuban exports, and if not ordered to return with the flota, sailed for spain no later than the middle of september. the course for spain was from cuba through the bahama channel, north-east between the virginian capes and the bermudas to about °, in order to recover the strong northerly winds, and then east to the azores. in winter the galleons sometimes ran south of the bermudas, and then slowly worked up to the higher latitude; but in this case they often either lost some ships on the bermuda shoals, or to avoid these slipped too far south, were forced back into the west indies and missed their voyage altogether.[ ] at the azores the general, falling in with his first intelligence from spain, learned where on the coast of europe or africa he was to sight land; and finally, in the latter part of october or the beginning of november, he dropped anchor at san lucar or in cadiz harbour. the flota or mexican fleet, consisting in the seventeenth century of two galleons of or tons and from fifteen to twenty merchantmen, usually left cadiz between june and july and wintered in america; but if it was to return with the galleons from havana in september it sailed for the indies as early as april. the course from spain to the indies was the same as for the fleet of terra-firma. from deseada or guadeloupe, however, the flota steered north-west, passing santa cruz and porto rico on the north, and sighting the little isles of mona and saona, as far as the bay of neyba in hispaniola, where the ships took on fresh wood and water.[ ] putting to sea again, and circling round beata and alta vela, the fleet sighted in turn cape tiburon, cape de cruz, the isle of pines, and capes corrientes and san antonio at the west end of cuba. meanwhile merchant ships had dropped away one by one, sailing to san juan de porto rico, san domingo, st. jago de cuba and even to truxillo and cavallos in honduras, to carry orders from spain to the governors, receive cargoes of leather, cocoa, etc., and rejoin the flota at havana. from cape san antonio to vera cruz there was an outside or winter route and an inside or summer route. the former lay north-west between the alacranes and the negrillos to the mexican coast about sixteen leagues north of vera cruz, and then down before the wind into the desired haven. the summer track was much closer to the shore of campeache, the fleet threading its way among the cays and shoals, and approaching vera cruz by a channel on the south-east. if the flota sailed from spain in july it generally arrived at vera cruz in the first fifteen days of september, and the ships were at once laid up until march, when the crews reassembled to careen and refit them. if the fleet was to return in the same year, however, the exports of new spain and adjacent provinces, the goods from china and the philippines carried across mexico from the pacific port of acapulco, and the ten or twelve millions of treasure for the king, were at once put on board and the ships departed to join the galleons at havana. otherwise the fleet sailed from vera cruz in april, and as it lay dead to the leeward of cuba, used the northerly winds to about °, then steered south-east and reached havana in eighteen or twenty days. by the beginning of june it was ready to sail for spain, where it arrived at the end of july, by the same course as that followed by the galleons.[ ] we are accustomed to think of spanish commerce with the indies as being made solely by great fleets which sailed yearly from seville or cadiz to mexico and the isthmus of darien. there were, however, always exceptions to this rule. when, as sometimes happened, the flota did not sail, two ships of or tons were sent by the king of spain to vera cruz to carry the quicksilver necessary for the mines. the metal was divided between new spain and peru by the viceroy at mexico, who sent _via_ gautemala the portion intended for the south. these ships, called "azogues," carried from to quintals[ ] of silver, and sometimes convoyed six or seven merchant vessels. from time to time an isolated ship was also allowed to sail from spain to caracas with licence from the council of the indies and the _contratacion_, paying the king a duty of five ducats on the ton. it was called the "register of caracas," took the same route as the galleons, and returned with one of the fleets from havana. similar vessels traded at maracaibo, in porto rico and at san domingo, at havana and matanzas in cuba and at truxillo and campeache.[ ] there was always, moreover, a special traffic with buenos ayres. this port was opened to a limited trade in negroes in . in permission was given to the inhabitants of la plata to export for six years the products of their lands to other spanish possessions, in exchange for goods of which they had need; and when in the colonists demanded an indefinite renewal of this privilege, the sop thrown to them was the bare right of trade to the amount of tons every three years. later in the century the council of the indies extended the period to five years, so as not to prejudice the trade of the galleons.[ ] it was this commerce, which we have noticed at such length, that the buccaneers of the west indies in the seventeenth century came to regard as their legitimate prey. these "corsarios luteranos," as the spaniards sometimes called them, scouring the coast of the main from venezuela to cartagena, hovering about the broad channel between cuba and yucatan, or prowling in the florida straits, became the nightmare of spanish seamen. like a pack of terriers they hung upon the skirts of the great unwieldy fleets, ready to snap up any unfortunate vessel which a tempest or other accident had separated from its fellows. when thomas gage was sailing in the galleons from porto bello to cartagena in , four buccaneers hovering near them carried away two merchant-ships under cover of darkness. as the same fleet was departing from havana, just outside the harbour two strange vessels appeared in their midst, and getting to the windward of them singled out a spanish ship which had strayed a short distance from the rest, suddenly gave her a broadside and made her yield. the vessel was laden with sugar and other goods to the value of , crowns. the spanish vice-admiral and two other galleons gave chase, but without success, for the wind was against them. the whole action lasted only half an hour.[ ] the spanish ships of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries were notoriously clumsy and unseaworthy. with short keel and towering poop and forecastle they were an easy prey for the long, low, close-sailing sloops and barques of the buccaneers. but this was not their only weakness. although the king expressly prohibited the loading of merchandise on the galleons except on the king's account, this rule was often broken for the private profit of the captain, the sailors, and even of the general. the men-of-war, indeed, were sometimes so embarrassed with goods and passengers that it was scarcely possible to defend them when attacked. the galleon which bore the general's flag had often as many as souls, crew, marines and passengers, on board, and the same number were crowded upon those carrying the vice-admiral and the pilot. ship-masters frequently hired guns, anchors, cables, and stores to make up the required equipment, and men to fill up the muster-rolls, against the time when the "visitadors" came on board to make their official inspection, getting rid of the stores and men immediately afterward. merchant ships were armed with such feeble crews, owing to the excessive crowding, that it was all they could do to withstand the least spell of bad weather, let alone outman[oe]uvre a swift-sailing buccaneer.[ ] by spanish law strangers were forbidden to resort to, or reside in, the indies without express permission of the king. by law, moreover, they might not trade with the indies from spain, either on their own account or through the intermediary of a spaniard, and they were forbidden even to associate with those engaged in such a trade. colonists were stringently enjoined from having anything to do with them. in an order was issued for the seizure of all goods sent to the colonies on the account of foreigners, and a royal _cedula_ of decreed the penalty of death and confiscation upon any who connived at the participation of foreigners in spanish colonial commerce.[ ] it was impossible, however, to maintain so complete an exclusion when the products of spain fell far short of supplying the needs of the colonists. foreign merchants were bound to have a hand in this traffic, and the spanish government tried to recompense itself by imposing on the out-going cargoes tyrannical exactions called "indults." the results were fatal. foreigners often eluded these impositions by interloping in the west indies and in the south sea.[ ] and as the _contratacion_, by fixing each year the nature and quantity of the goods to be shipped to the colonies, raised the price of merchandise at will and reaped enormous profits, the colonists welcomed this contraband trade as an opportunity of enriching themselves and adding to the comforts and luxuries of living. from the beginning of the seventeenth century as many as ships sailed each year from portugal with rich cargoes of silks, cloths and woollens intended for spanish america.[ ] the portuguese bought these articles of the flemish, english, and french, loaded them at lisbon and oporto, ran their vessels to brazil and up the la plata as far as navigation permitted, and then transported the goods overland through paraguay and tucuman to potosi and even to lima. the spanish merchants of peru kept factors in brazil as well as in spain, and as portuguese imposts were not so excessive as those levied at cadiz and seville, the portuguese could undersell their spanish rivals. the frequent possession of assientos by the portuguese and dutch in the first half of the seventeenth century also facilitated this contraband, for when carrying negroes from africa to hispaniola, cuba and the towns on the main, they profited by their opportunities to sell merchandise also, and generally without the least obstacle. other nations in the seventeenth century were not slow to follow the same course; and two circumstances contributed to make that course easy. one was the great length of coast line on both the atlantic and pacific slopes over which a surveillance had to be exercised, making it difficult to catch the interlopers. the other was the venal connivance of the governors of the ports, who often tolerated and even encouraged the traffic on the plea that the colonists demanded it.[ ] the subterfuges adopted by the interlopers were very simple. when a vessel wished to enter a spanish port to trade, the captain, pretending that provisions had run low, or that the ship suffered from a leak or a broken mast, sent a polite note to the governor accompanied by a considerable gift. he generally obtained permission to enter, unload, and put the ship into a seaworthy condition. all the formalities were minutely observed. the unloaded goods were shut up in a storehouse, and the doors sealed. but there was always found another door unsealed, and by this they abstracted the goods during the night, and substituted coin or bars of gold and silver. when the vessel was repaired to the captain's satisfaction, it was reloaded and sailed away. there was also, especially on the shores of the caribbean sea, a less elaborate commerce called "sloop-trade," for it was usually managed by sloops which hovered near some secluded spot on the coast, often at the mouth of a river, and informed the inhabitants of their presence in the neighbourhood by firing a shot from a cannon. sometimes a large ship filled with merchandise was stationed in a bay close at hand, and by means of these smaller craft made its trade with the colonists. the latter, generally in disguise, came off in canoes by night. the interlopers, however, were always on guard against such dangerous visitors, and never admitted more than a few at a time; for when the spaniards found themselves stronger than the crew, and a favourable opportunity presented itself, they rarely failed to attempt the vessel. thus the spaniards of the seventeenth century, by persisting, both at home and in their colonies, in an economic policy which was fatally inconsistent with their powers and resources, saw their commerce gradually extinguished by the ships of the foreign interloper, and their tropical possessions fall a prey to marauding bands of half-piratical buccaneers. although struggling under tremendous initial disabilities in europe, they had attempted, upon the slender pleas of prior discovery and papal investiture, to reserve half the world to themselves. without a marine, without maritime traditions, they sought to hold a colonial empire greater than any the world had yet seen, and comparable only with the empire of great britain three centuries later. by discouraging industry in spain, and yet enforcing in the colonies an absolute commercial dependence on the home-country, by combining in their rule of distant america a solicitous paternalism with a restriction of initiative altogether disastrous in its consequences, the spaniards succeeded in reducing their colonies to political impotence. and when, to make their grip the more firm, they evolved, as a method of outwitting the foreigner of his spoils, the system of great fleets and single ports of call, they found the very means they had contrived for their own safety to be the instrument of commercial disaster. ii.--the freebooters of the sixteenth century it was the french chronologist, scaliger, who in the sixteenth century asserted, "nulli melius piraticam exercent quam angli"; and although he had no need to cross the channel to find men proficient in this primitive calling, the remark applies to the england of his time with a force which we to-day scarcely realise. certainly the inveterate hostility with which the englishman learned to regard the spaniard in the latter half of the sixteenth and throughout the seventeenth centuries found its most remarkable expression in the exploits of the elizabethan "sea-dogs" and of the buccaneers of a later period. the religious differences and political jealousies which grew out of the turmoil of the reformation, and the moral anarchy incident to the dissolution of ancient religious institutions, were the motive causes for an outburst of piratical activity comparable only with the professional piracy of the barbary states. even as far back as the thirteenth century, indeed, lawless sea-rovers, mostly bretons and flemings, had infested the english channel and the seas about great britain. in the sixteenth this mode of livelihood became the refuge for numerous young englishmen, catholic and protestant, who, fleeing from the persecutions of edward vi. and of mary, sought refuge in french ports or in the recesses of the irish coast, and became the leaders of wild roving bands living chiefly upon plunder. among them during these persecutions were found many men belonging to the best families in england, and although with the accession of elizabeth most of the leaders returned to the service of the state, the pirate crews remained at their old trade. the contagion spread, especially in the western counties, and great numbers of fishermen who found their old employment profitless were recruited into this new calling.[ ] at the beginning of elizabeth's reign we find these anglo-irish pirates venturing farther south, plundering treasure galleons off the coast of spain, and cutting vessels out of the very ports of the spanish king. such outrages of course provoked reprisals, and the pirates, if caught, were sent to the galleys, rotted in the dungeons of the inquisition, or, least of all, were burnt in the plaza at valladolid. these cruelties only added fuel to a deadly hatred which was kindling between the two nations, a hatred which it took one hundred and fifty years to quench. the most venturesome of these sea-rovers, however, were soon attracted to a larger and more distant sphere of activity. spain, as we have seen, was then endeavouring to reserve to herself in the western hemisphere an entire new world; and this at a time when the great northern maritime powers, france, england and holland, were in the full tide of economic development, restless with new thoughts, hopes and ambitions, and keenly jealous of new commercial and industrial outlets. the famous bull of alexander vi. had provoked francis i. to express a desire "to see the clause in adam's will which entitled his brothers of castile and portugal to divide the new world between them," and very early the french corsairs had been encouraged to test the pretensions of the spaniards by the time-honoured proofs of fire and steel. the english nation, however, in the first half of the sixteenth century, had not disputed with spain her exclusive trade and dominion in those regions. the hardy mariners of the north were still indifferent to the wonders of a new continent awaiting their exploitation, and it was left to the spaniards to unfold before the eyes of europe the vast riches of america, and to found empires on the plateaus of mexico and beyond the andes. during the reign of philip ii. all this was changed. english privateers began to extend their operations westward, and to sap the very sources of spanish wealth and power, while the wars which absorbed the attention of the spaniards in europe, from the revolt of the low countries to the treaty of westphalia, left the field clear for these ubiquitous sea-rovers. the maritime powers, although obliged by the theory of colonial exclusion to pretend to acquiesce in the spaniard's claim to tropical america, secretly protected and supported their mariners who coursed those western seas. france and england were now jealous and fearful of spanish predominance in europe, and kept eyes obstinately fixed on the inexhaustible streams of gold and silver by means of which spain was enabled to pay her armies and man her fleets. queen elizabeth, while she publicly excused or disavowed to philip ii. the outrages committed by hawkins and drake, blaming the turbulence of the times and promising to do her utmost to suppress the disorders, was secretly one of the principal shareholders in their enterprises. the policy of the marauders was simple. the treasure which oiled the machinery of spanish policy came from the indies where it was accumulated; hence there were only two means of obtaining possession of it:--bold raids on the ill-protected american continent, and the capture of vessels _en route_.[ ] the counter policy of the spaniards was also two-fold:--on the one hand, the establishment of commerce by means of annual fleets protected by a powerful convoy; on the other, the removal of the centres of population from the coasts to the interior of the country far from danger of attack.[ ] the spaniards in america, however, proved to be no match for the bold, intrepid mariners who disputed their supremacy. the descendants of the _conquistadores_ had deteriorated sadly from the type of their forbears. softened by tropical heats and a crude, uncultured luxury, they seem to have lost initiative and power of resistance. the disastrous commercial system of monopoly and centralization forced them to vegetate; while the policy of confining political office to native-born spaniards denied any outlet to creole talent and energy. moreover, the productive power and administrative abilities of the native-born spaniards themselves were gradually being paralyzed and reduced to impotence under the crushing obligation of preserving and defending so unwieldy an empire and of managing such disproportionate riches, a task for which they had neither the aptitude nor the means.[ ] privateering in the west indies may indeed be regarded as a challenge to the spaniards of america, sunk in lethargy and living upon the credit of past glory and achievement, a challenge to prove their right to retain their dominion and extend their civilization and culture over half the world.[ ] there were other motives which lay behind these piratical aggressions of the french and english in spanish america. the spaniards, ever since the days of the dominican monk and bishop, las casas, had been reprobated as the heartless oppressors and murderers of the native indians. the original owners of the soil had been dispossessed and reduced to slavery. in the west indies, the great islands, cuba and hispaniola, were rendered desolate for want of inhabitants. two great empires, mexico and peru, had been subdued by treachery, their kings murdered, and their people made to suffer a living death in the mines of potosi and new spain. such was the protestant englishman's conception, in the sixteenth century, of the results of spanish colonial policy. to avenge the blood of these innocent victims, and teach the true religion to the survivors, was to glorify the church militant and strike a blow at antichrist. spain, moreover, in the eyes of the puritans, was the lieutenant of rome, the scarlet woman of the apocalypse, who harried and burnt their protestant brethren whenever she could lay hands upon them. that she was eager to repeat her ill-starred attempt of and introduce into the british isles the accursed inquisition was patent to everyone. protestant england, therefore, filled with the enthusiasm and intolerance of a new faith, made no bones of despoiling the spaniards, especially as the service of god was likely to be repaid with plunder. a pamphlet written by dalby thomas in expresses with tolerable accuracy the attitude of the average englishman toward spain during the previous century. he says:--"we will make a short reflection on the unaccountable negligence, or rather stupidity, of this nation, during the reigns of henry vii., henry viii., edward vi. and queen mary, who could contentedly sit still and see the spanish rifle, plunder and bring home undisturbed, all the wealth of that golden world; and to suffer them with forts and castles to shut up the doors and entrances unto all the rich provinces of america, having not the least title or pretence of right beyond any other nation; except that of being by accident the first discoverer of some parts of it; where the unprecedented cruelties, exorbitances and barbarities, their own histories witness, they practised on a poor, naked and innocent people, which inhabited the islands, as well as upon those truly civilized and mighty empires of peru and mexico, called to all mankind for succour and relief against their outrageous avarice and horrid massacres.... (we) slept on until the ambitious spaniard, by that inexhaustible spring of treasure, had corrupted most of the courts and senates of europe, and had set on fire, by civil broils and discords, all our neighbour nations, or had subdued them to his yoke; contriving too to make us wear his chains and bear a share in the triumph of universal monarchy, not only projected but near accomplished, when queen elizabeth came to the crown ... and to the divided interests of philip ii. and queen elizabeth, in personal more than national concerns, we do owe that start of hers in letting loose upon him, and encouraging those daring adventurers, drake, hawkins, rawleigh, the lord clifford and many other braves that age produced, who, by their privateering and bold undertaking (like those the buccaneers practise) now opened the way to our discoveries, and succeeding settlements in america."[ ] on the th of november , some spaniards in a caravel loading cassava at the isle of mona, between hispaniola and porto rico, sighted a strange vessel of about tons well-armed with cannon, and believing it to be a ship from spain sent a boat to make inquiries. the new-comers at the same time were seen to launch a pinnace carrying some twenty-five men, all armed with corselets and bows. as the two boats approached the spaniards inquired the nationality of the strangers and were told that they were english. the story given by the english master was that his ship and another had been fitted out by the king of england and had sailed from london to discover the land of the great khan; that they had been separated in a great storm; that this ship afterwards ran into a sea of ice, and unable to get through, turned south, touched at bacallaos (newfoundland), where the pilot was killed by indians, and sailing leagues along the coast of "terra nueva" had found her way to this island of porto rico. the englishmen offered to show their commission written in latin and romance, which the spanish captain could not read; and after sojourning at the island for two days, they inquired for the route to hispaniola and sailed away. on the evening of th november this same vessel appeared before the port of san domingo, the capital of hispaniola, where the master with ten or twelve sailors went ashore in a boat to ask leave to enter and trade. this they obtained, for the _alguazil mayor_ and two pilots were sent back with them to bring the ship into port. but early next morning, when they approached the shore, the spanish _alcaide_, francisco de tapia, commanded a gun to be fired at the ship from the castle; whereupon the english, seeing the reception accorded them, sailed back to porto rico, there obtained some provisions in exchange for pewter and cloth, and departed for europe, "where it is believed that they never arrived, for nothing is known of them." the _alcaide_, says herrera, was imprisoned by the _oidores_, because he did not, instead of driving the ship away, allow her to enter the port, whence she could not have departed without the permission of the city and the fort.[ ] this is the earliest record we possess of the appearance of an english ship in the waters of spanish america. others, however, soon followed. in william hawkins, father of the famous john hawkins, ventured in "a tall and goodly ship ... called the 'polo of plymouth,'" down to the coast of guinea, trafficked with the natives for gold-dust and ivory, and then crossed the ocean to brazil, "where he behaved himself so wisely with those savage people" that one of the kings of the country took ship with him to england and was presented to henry viii. at whitehall.[ ] the real occasion, however, for the appearance of foreign ships in spanish-american waters was the new occupation of carrying negroes from the african coast to the spanish colonies to be sold as slaves. the rapid depopulation of the indies, and the really serious concern of the spanish crown for the preservation of the indigenes, had compelled the spanish government to permit the introduction of negro slaves from an early period. at first restricted to christian slaves carried from spain, after licences to take over a certain number, subject of course to governmental imposts, were given to private individuals; and in august , owing to the incessant clamour of the colonists for more negroes, laurent de gouvenot, governor of bresa and one of the foreign favourites of charles v., obtained the first regular contract to carry slaves directly from africa to the west indies.[ ] with slight modifications the contract system became permanent, and with it, as a natural consequence, came contraband trade. cargoes of negroes were frequently "run" from africa by spaniards and portuguese, and as early as an order was issued to expel all contraband slaves from hispaniola.[ ] the supply never equalled the demand, however, and this explains why john hawkins found it so profitable to carry ship-loads of blacks across from the guinea coast, and why spanish colonists could not resist the temptation to buy them, notwithstanding the stringent laws against trading with foreigners. the first voyage of john hawkins was made in - . in conjunction with thomas hampton he fitted out three vessels and sailed for sierra leone. there he collected, "partly by the sword and partly by other means," some negroes, and with this valuable human freight crossed the atlantic to san domingo in hispaniola. uncertain as to his reception, hawkins on his arrival pretended that he had been driven in by foul weather, and was in need of provisions, but without ready money to pay for them. he therefore requested permission to sell "certain slaves he had with him." the opportunity was eagerly welcomed by the planters, and the governor, not thinking it necessary to construe his orders from home too stringently, allowed two-thirds of the cargo to be sold. as neither hawkins nor the spanish colonists anticipated any serious displeasure on the part of philip ii., the remaining slaves were left as a deposit with the council of the island. hawkins invested the proceeds in a return cargo of hides, half of which he sent in spanish vessels to spain under the care of his partner, while he returned with the rest to england. the spanish government, however, was not going to sanction for a moment the intrusion of the english into the indies. on hampton's arrival at cadiz his cargo was confiscated and he himself narrowly escaped the inquisition. the slaves left in san domingo were forfeited, and hawkins, although he "cursed, threatened and implored," could not obtain a farthing for his lost hides and negroes. the only result of his demands was the dispatch of a peremptory order to the west indies that no english vessel should be allowed under any pretext to trade there.[ ] the second of the great elizabethan sea-captains to beard the spanish lion was hawkins' friend and pupil, francis drake. in he accompanied hawkins on his third expedition. with six ships, one of which was lent by the queen herself, they sailed from plymouth in october, picked up about slaves on the guinea coast, sighted dominica in the west indies in march, and coasted along the mainland of south america past margarita and cape de la vela, carrying on a "tolerable good trade." rio de la hacha they stormed with men, losing only two in the encounter; but they were scattered by a tempest near cartagena and driven into the gulf of mexico, where, on th september, they entered the narrow port of s. juan d'ulloa or vera cruz. the next day the fleet of new spain, consisting of thirteen large ships, appeared outside, and after an exchange of pledges of peace and amity with the english intruders, entered on the th. on the morning of the th, however, a fierce encounter was begun, and hawkins and drake, stubbornly defending themselves against tremendous odds, were glad to escape with two shattered vessels and the loss of £ , treasure. after a voyage of terrible suffering, drake, in the "judith," succeeded in reaching england on th january , and hawkins followed five days later.[ ] within a few years, however, drake was away again, this time alone and with the sole, unblushing purpose of robbing the dons. with only two ships and seventy-three men he prowled about the waters of the west indies for almost a year, capturing and rifling spanish vessels, plundering towns on the main and intercepting convoys of treasure across the isthmus of darien. in he sailed on the voyage which carried him round the world, a feat for which he was knighted, promoted to the rank of admiral, and visited by the queen on board his ship, the "golden hind." while drake was being feted in london as the hero of the hour, philip of spain from his cell in the escorial must have execrated these english sea-rovers whose visits brought ruin to his colonies and menaced the safety of his treasure galleons. in the autumn of drake was again in command of a formidable armament intended against the west indies. supported by troops under general carleill, and by martin frobisher and francis knollys in the fleet, he took and plundered san domingo, and after occupying cartagena for six weeks ransomed the city for , ducats. this fearless old elizabethan sailed from plymouth on his last voyage in august . though under the joint command of drake and hawkins, the expedition seemed doomed to disaster throughout its course. one vessel, the "francis," fell into the hands of the spaniards. while the fleet was passing through the virgin isles, hawkins fell ill and died. a desperate attack was made on s. juan de porto rico, but the english, after losing forty or fifty men, were compelled to retire. drake then proceeded to the main, where in turn he captured and plundered rancherias, rio de la hacha, santa marta and nombre de dios. with soldiers he made a bold attempt to cross the isthmus to the city of panama, but turned back after the loss of eighty or ninety of his followers. a few days later, on th january , he too fell ill, died on the th, and was buried in a leaden coffin off the coast of darien.[ ] hawkins and drake, however, were by no means the only english privateers of that century in american waters. names like oxenham, grenville, raleigh and clifford, and others of lesser fame, such as winter, knollys and barker, helped to swell the roll of these elizabethan sea-rovers. to many a gallant sailor the caribbean sea was a happy hunting-ground where he might indulge at his pleasure any propensities to lawless adventure. if in he had helped to scatter the invincible armada, he now pillaged treasure ships on the coasts of the spanish main; if he had been with drake to flout his catholic majesty at cadiz, he now closed with the spaniards within their distant cities beyond the seas. thus he lined his own pockets with spanish doubloons, and incidentally curbed philip's power of invading england. nor must we think these mariners the same as the lawless buccaneers of a later period. the men of this generation were of a sterner and more fanatical mould, men who for their wildest acts often claimed the sanction of religious convictions. whether they carried off the heathen from africa, or plundered the fleets of romish spain, they were but entering upon "the heritage of the saints." judged by the standards of our own century they were pirates and freebooters, but in the eyes of their fellow-countrymen their attacks upon the spaniards seemed fair and honourable. the last of the great privateering voyages for which drake had set the example was the armament which lord george clifford, earl of cumberland, sent against porto rico in . the ill-starred expeditions of raleigh to guiana in and again in belong rather to the history of exploration and colonization. clifford, "courtier, gambler and buccaneer," having run through a great part of his very considerable fortune, had seized the opportunity offered him by the plunder of the spanish colonies to re-coup himself; and during a period of twelve years, from to , almost every year fitted out, and often himself commanded, an expedition against the spaniards. in his last and most ambitious effort, in , he equipped twenty vessels entirely at his own cost, sailed from plymouth in march, and on th june laid siege to the city of san juan, which he proposed to clear of spaniards and establish as an english stronghold. although the place was captured, the expedition proved a fiasco. a violent sickness broke out among the troops, and as clifford had already sailed away with some of the ships to flores to lie in wait for the treasure fleet, sir thomas berkeley, who was left in command in porto rico, abandoned the island and returned to rejoin the earl.[ ] the english in the sixteenth century, however, had no monopoly of this piratical game. the french did something in their own way, and the dutch were not far behind. indeed, the french may claim to have set the example for the elizabethan freebooters, for in the first half of the sixteenth century privateers flocked to the spanish indies from dieppe, brest and the towns of the basque coast. the gleam of the golden lingots of peru, and the pale lights of the emeralds from the mountains of new granada, exercised a hypnotic influence not only on ordinary seamen but on merchants and on seigneurs with depleted fortunes. names like jean terrier, jacques sore and françois le clerc, the latter popularly called "pie de palo," or "wooden-leg," by the spaniards, were as detestable in spanish ears as those of the great english captains. even before french corsairs hovered about cape st vincent and among the azores and the canaries; and their prowess and audacity were so feared that columbus, on returning from his third voyage in , declared that he had sailed for the island of madeira by a new route to avoid meeting a french fleet which was awaiting him near st vincent.[ ] with the establishment of the system of armed convoys, however, and the presence of spanish fleets on the coast of europe, the corsairs suffered some painful reverses which impelled them to transfer their operations to american waters. thereafter spanish records are full of references to attacks by frenchmen on havana, st. jago de cuba, san domingo and towns on the mainland of south and central america; full of appeals, too, from the colonies to the neglectful authorities in spain, urging them to send artillery, cruisers and munitions of war for their defence.[ ] a letter dated th april , written by gonzalo de guzman to the empress, furnishes us with some interesting details of the exploits of an anonymous french corsair in that year. in november this frenchman had seized in the port of chagre, on the isthmus of darien, a spanish vessel laden with horses from san domingo, had cast the cargo into the sea, put the crew on shore and sailed away with his prize. a month or two later he appeared off the coast of havana and dropped anchor in a small bay a few leagues from the city. as there were then five spanish ships lying in the harbour, the inhabitants compelled the captains to attempt the seizure of the pirate, promising to pay for the ships if they were lost. three vessels of tons each sailed out to the attack, and for several days they fired at the french corsair, which, being a patache of light draught, had run up the bay beyond their reach. finally one morning the frenchmen were seen pressing with both sail and oar to escape from the port. a spanish vessel cut her cables to follow in pursuit, but encountering a heavy sea and contrary winds was abandoned by her crew, who made for shore in boats. the other two spanish ships were deserted in similar fashion, whereupon the french, observing this new turn of affairs, re-entered the bay and easily recovered the three drifting vessels. two of the prizes they burnt, and arming the third sailed away to cruise in the florida straits, in the route of ships returning from the west indies to spain.[ ] the corsairs, however, were not always so uniformly successful. a band of eighty, who attempted to plunder the town of st. jago de cuba, were repulsed with some loss by a certain diego perez of seville, captain of an armed merchant ship then in the harbour, who later petitioned for the grant of a coat-of-arms in recognition of his services.[ ] in october six french vessels attacked the town of santa maria de los remedios, near cape de la vela, but failed to take it in face of the stubborn resistance of the inhabitants. yet the latter a few months earlier had been unable to preserve their homes from pillage, and had been obliged to flee to la granjeria de las perlas on the rio de la hacha.[ ] there is small wonder, indeed, that the defenders were so rarely victorious. the spanish towns were ill-provided with forts and guns, and often entirely without ammunition or any regular soldiers. the distance between the settlements as a rule was great, and the inhabitants, as soon as informed of the presence of the enemy, knowing that they had no means of resistance and little hope of succour, left their homes to the mercy of the freebooters and fled to the hills and woods with their families and most precious belongings. thus when, in october , another band of three hundred french privateers swooped down upon the unfortunate town of st. jago de cuba, they were able to hold it for thirty days, and plundered it to the value of , pieces of eight.[ ] the following year, however, witnessed an even more remarkable action. in july the celebrated captain, jacques sore, landed two hundred men from a caravel a half-league from the city of havana, and before daybreak marched on the town and forced the surrender of the castle. the spanish governor had time to retire to the country, where he gathered a small force of spaniards and negroes, and returned to surprise the french by night. fifteen or sixteen of the latter were killed, and sore, who himself was wounded, in a rage gave orders for the massacre of all the prisoners. he burned the cathedral and the hospital, pillaged the houses and razed most of the city to the ground. after transferring all the artillery to his vessel, he made several forays into the country, burned a few plantations, and finally sailed away in the beginning of august. no record remains of the amount of the booty, but it must have been enormous. to fill the cup of bitterness for the poor inhabitants, on th october there appeared on the coast another french ship, which had learned of sore's visit and of the helpless state of the spaniards. several hundred men disembarked, sacked a few plantations neglected by their predecessors, tore down or burned the houses which the spaniards had begun to rebuild, and seized a caravel loaded with leather which had recently entered the harbour.[ ] it is true that during these years there was almost constant war in europe between the emperor and france; yet this does not entirely explain the activity of the french privateers in spanish america, for we find them busy there in the years when peace reigned at home. once unleash the sea-dogs and it was extremely difficult to bring them again under restraint. with the seventeenth century began a new era in the history of the west indies. if in the sixteenth the english, french and dutch came to tropical america as piratical intruders into seas and countries which belonged to others, in the following century they came as permanent colonisers and settlers. the spaniards, who had explored the whole ring of the west indian islands before , from the beginning neglected the lesser for the larger antilles--cuba, hispaniola, porto rico and jamaica--and for those islands like trinidad, which lie close to the mainland. and when in cortez sailed from cuba for the conquest of mexico, and twelve years later pizarro entered peru, the emigrants who left spain to seek their fortunes in the new world flocked to the vast territories which the _conquistadores_ and their lieutenants had subdued on the continent. it was consequently to the smaller islands which compose the leeward and windward groups that the english, french and dutch first resorted as colonists. small, and therefore "easy to settle, easy to depopulate and to re-people, attractive not only on account of their own wealth, but also as a starting-point for the vast and rich continent off which they lie," these islands became the pawns in a game of diplomacy and colonization which continued for years. in the seventeenth century, moreover, the spanish monarchy was declining rapidly both in power and prestige, and its empire, though still formidable, no longer overshadowed the other nations of europe as in the days of charles v. and philip ii. france, with the bourbons on the throne, was entering upon an era of rapid expansion at home and abroad, while the dutch, by the truce of , virtually obtained the freedom for which they had struggled so long. in england queen elizabeth had died in , and her stuart successor exchanged her policy of dalliance, of balance between france and spain, for one of peace and conciliation. the aristocratic free-booters who had enriched themselves by harassing the spanish indies were succeeded by a less romantic but more business-like generation, which devoted itself to trade and planting. abortive attempts at colonization had been made in the sixteenth century. the dutch, who were trading in the west indies as early as , by seem to have gained some foothold in guiana;[ ] and the french huguenots, under the patronage of the admiral de coligny, made three unsuccessful efforts to form settlements on the american continent, one in brazil in , another near port royal in south carolina in , and two years later a third on the st. john's river in florida. the only english effort in the sixteenth century was the vain attempt of sir walter raleigh between and to plant a colony on roanoke island, on the coast of what is now north carolina. it was not till that the first permanent english settlement in america was made at jamestown in virginia. between and numerous stations were established by english, dutch and french in guiana between the mouth of the orinoco and that of the amazon. in the dutch west india company was incorporated, and a few years later proposals for a similar company were broached in england. among the west indian islands, st. kitts received its first english settlers in ; and two years later the island was formally divided with the french, thus becoming the earliest nucleus of english and french colonization in those regions. barbadoes was colonized in - . in english settlers from st. kitts spread to nevis and barbuda, and within another four years to antigua and montserrat; while as early as english and dutch took joint possession of santa cruz. the founders of the french settlement on st. kitts induced richelieu to incorporate a french west india company with the title, "the company of the isles of america," and under its auspices guadeloupe, martinique and other islands of the windward group were colonized in and succeeding years. meanwhile between and the dutch had established trading stations on st. eustatius in the north, and on tobago and curaçao in the south near the spanish mainland. while these centres of trade and population were being formed in the very heart of the spanish seas, the privateers were not altogether idle. to the treaty of vervins between france and spain in had been added a secret restrictive article whereby it was agreed that the peace should not hold good south of the tropic of cancer and west of the meridian of the azores. beyond these two lines (called "les lignes de l'enclos des amitiés") french and spanish ships might attack each other and take fair prize as in open war. the ministers of henry iv. communicated this restriction verbally to the merchants of the ports, and soon private men-of-war from dieppe, havre and st. malo flocked to the western seas.[ ] ships loaded with contraband goods no longer sailed for the indies unless armed ready to engage all comers, and many ship-captains renounced trade altogether for the more profitable and exciting occupation of privateering. in the early years of the seventeenth century, moreover, dutch fleets harassed the coasts of chile and peru,[ ] while in brazil[ ] and the west indies a second "pie de palo," this time the dutch admiral, piet heyn, was proving a scourge to the spaniards. heyn was employed by the dutch west india company, which from the year onwards, carried the spanish war into the transmarine possessions of spain and portugal. with a fleet composed of twenty-six ships and men, of which he was vice-admiral, he greatly distinguished himself at the capture of bahia, the seat of portuguese power in brazil. similar expeditions were sent out annually, and brought back the rich spoils of the south american colonies. within two years the extraordinary number of eighty ships, with cannon and over sailors and soldiers, were despatched to american seas, and although bahia was soon retaken, the dutch for a time occupied pernambuco, as well as san juan de porto rico in the west indies.[ ] in piet heyn was in command of a squadron designed to intercept the plate fleet which sailed every year from vera cruz to spain. with thirty-one ships, cannon and nearly men he cruised along the northern coast of cuba, and on th september fell in with his quarry near cape san antonio. the spaniards made a running fight along the coast until they reached the matanzas river near havana, into which they turned with the object of running the great-bellied galleons aground and escaping with what treasure they could. the dutch followed, however, and most of the rich cargo was diverted into the coffers of the dutch west india company. the gold, silver, indigo, sugar and logwood were sold in the netherlands for fifteen million guilders, and the company was enabled to distribute to its shareholders the unprecedented dividend of per cent. it was an exploit which two generations of english mariners had attempted in vain, and the unfortunate spanish general, don juan de benavides, on his return to spain was imprisoned for his defeat and later beheaded.[ ] in we find the spanish council of war for the indies conferring with the king on measures to be taken against english piratical ships in the caribbean;[ ] and in captain william jackson, provided with an ample commission from the earl of warwick[ ] and duplicates under the great seal, made a raid in which he emulated the exploits of sir francis drake and his contemporaries. starting out with three ships and about men, mostly picked up in st. kitts and barbadoes, he cruised along the main from caracas to honduras and plundered the towns of maracaibo and truxillo. on th march he dropped anchor in what is now kingston harbour in jamaica, landed about men, and after some sharp fighting and the loss of forty of his followers, entered the town of st. jago de la vega, which he ransomed for beeves, , lbs. of cassava bread and pieces of eight. many of the english were so captivated by the beauty and fertility of the island that twenty-three deserted in one night to the spaniards.[ ] the first two stuart kings, like the great queen who preceded them, and in spite of the presence of a powerful spanish faction at the english court, looked upon the indies with envious eyes, as a source of perennial wealth to whichever nation could secure them. james i., to be sure, was a man of peace, and soon after his accession patched up a treaty with the spaniards; but he had no intention of giving up any english claims, however shadowy they might be, to america. cornwallis, the new ambassador at madrid, from a vantage ground where he could easily see the financial and administrative confusion into which spain, in spite of her colonial wealth, had fallen, was most dissatisfied with the treaty. in a letter to cranborne, dated nd july , he suggested that england never lost so great an opportunity of winning honour and wealth as by relinquishing the war with spain, and that philip and his kingdom "were reduced to such a state as they could not in all likelihood have endured for the space of two years more."[ ] this opinion we find repeated in his letters in the following years, with covert hints that an attack upon the indies might after all be the most profitable and politic thing to do. when, in october , zuniga, the spanish ambassador in london, complained to james of the establishment of the new colony in virginia, james replied that virginia was land discovered by the english and therefore not within the jurisdiction of philip; and a week later salisbury, while confiding to zuniga that he thought the english might not justly go to virginia, still refused to prohibit their going or command their return, for it would be an acknowledgment, he said, that the king of spain was lord of all the indies.[ ] in , in the truce concluded between spain and the netherlands, one of the stipulations provided that for nine years the dutch were to be free to trade in all places in the east and west indies except those in actual possession of the spaniards on the date of cessation of hostilities; and thereafter the english and french governments endeavoured with all the more persistence to obtain a similar privilege. attorney-general heath, in , presented a memorial to the crown on the advantages derived by the spaniards and dutch in the west indies, maintaining that it was neither safe nor profitable for them to be absolute lords of those regions; and he suggested that his majesty openly interpose or permit it to be done underhand.[ ] in september proposals were renewed in england for a west india company as the only method of obtaining a share in the wealth of america. it was suggested that some convenient port be seized as a safe retreat from which to plunder spanish trade on land and sea, and that the officers of the company be empowered to conquer and occupy any part of the west indies, build ships, levy soldiers and munitions of war, and make reprisals.[ ] the temper of englishmen at this time was again illustrated in when the spanish ambassador, alonzo de cardenas, protested to charles i. against certain ships which the earls of warwick and marlborough were sending to the west indies with the intention, cardenas declared, of committing hostilities against the spaniards. the earl of warwick, it seems, pretended to have received great injuries from the latter and threatened to recoup his losses at their expense. he procured from the king a broad commission which gave him the right to trade in the west indies, and to "offend" such as opposed him. under shelter of this commission the earl of marlborough was now going to sea with three or four armed ships, and cardenas prayed the king to restrain him until he gave security not to commit any acts of violence against the spanish nation. the petition was referred to a committee of the lords, who concluded that as the peace had never been strictly observed by either nation in the indies they would not demand any security of the earl. "whether the spaniards will think this reasonable or not," concludes secretary windebank in his letter to sir arthur hopton, "is no great matter."[ ] during this century and a half between and , the spaniards were by no means passive or indifferent to the attacks made upon their authority and prestige in the new world. the hostility of the mariners from the north they repaid with interest, and woe to the foreign interloper or privateer who fell into their clutches. when henry ii. of france in issued an order that spanish prisoners be condemned to the galleys, the spanish government retaliated by commanding its sea-captains to mete out the same treatment to their french captives, except that captains, masters and officers taken in the navigation of the indies were to be hung or cast into the sea.[ ] in december the governor of cumana had suggested to the king, as a means of keeping dutch and english ships from the salt mines of araya, the ingenious scheme of poisoning the salt. this advice, it seems, was not followed, but a few years later, in , a spanish fleet of fourteen galleons sent from lisbon surprised and burnt nineteen dutch vessels found loading salt at araya, and murdered most of the prisoners.[ ] in december the venetian ambassador in london wrote of "news that the spanish in the west indies captured two english vessels, cut off the hands, feet, noses and ears of the crews and smeared them with honey and tied them to trees to be tortured by flies and other insects. the spanish here plead," he continued, "that they were pirates, not merchants, and that they did not know of the peace. but the barbarity makes people here cry out."[ ] on nd june , edmondes, the english ambassador at brussels, in a letter to cornwallis, speaks of a london ship which was sent to trade in virginia, and putting into a river in florida to obtain water, was surprised there by spanish vessels from havana, the men ill-treated and the cargo confiscated.[ ] and it was but shortly after that captain chaloner's ship on its way to virginia was seized by the spaniards in the west indies, and the crew sent to languish in the dungeons of seville or condemned to the galleys. by attacks upon some of the english settlements, too, the spaniards gave their threats a more effective form. frequent raids were made upon the english and dutch plantations in guiana;[ ] and on th- th september a spanish fleet of over thirty sail, commanded by don federico de toledo, nearly annihilated the joint french and english colony on st. kitts. nine english ships were captured and the settlements burnt. the french inhabitants temporarily evacuated the island and sailed for antigua; but of the english some were carried to cartagena and havana, whence they were shipped to england, and all the rest fled to the mountains and woods.[ ] within three months' time, however, after the departure of the spaniards, the scattered settlers had returned and re-established the colony. providence island and its neighbour, henrietta, being situated near the mosquito coast, were peculiarly exposed to spanish attack;[ ] while near the north shore of hispaniola the island of tortuga, which was colonized by the same english company, suffered repeatedly from the assaults of its hostile neighbours. in july a spanish fleet from the main assailed the island of providence, but unable to land among the rocks, was after five days beaten off "considerably torn" by the shot from the fort.[ ] on the strength of these injuries received and of others anticipated, the providence company obtained from the king the liberty "to right themselves" by making reprisals, and during the next six years kept numerous vessels preying upon spanish commerce in those waters. king philip was therefore all the more intent upon destroying the plantation.[ ] he bided his time, however, until the early summer of , when the general of the galleons, don francisco diaz pimienta, with twelve sail and men, fell upon the colony, razed the forts and carried off all the english, about in number, together with forty cannon and half a million of plunder.[ ] it was just ten years later that a force of men from porto rico invaded santa cruz, whence the dutch had been expelled by the english in , killed the english governor and more than settlers, seized two ships in the harbour and burnt and pillaged most of the plantations. the rest of the inhabitants escaped to the woods, and after the departure of the spaniards deserted the colony for st. kitts and other islands.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : herrera: decades ii. , p. , cited in scelle: la traite négrière, i. p. . note .] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. pp. - .] [footnote : "por cuanto los pacificaciones no se han de hacer con ruido de armas, sino con caridad y buen modo."--recop. de leyes ... de las indias, lib. vii. tit. .] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. .] [footnote : weiss: l'espagne depuis philippe ii. jusqu'aux bourbons., ii. pp. and . not till was legislative sanction given to this practice. m. lemonnet wrote to colbert in concerning this commerce:--"quelque perquisition qu'on ait faite dans ce dernier temps aux indes pour découvrir les biens des françois, ils ont plustost souffert la prison que de rien déclarer ... toute les merchandises qu'on leur donne à porter aux indes sont chargées sous le nom d'espagnols, que bien souvent n'en ont pas connaissance, ne jugeant pas à propos de leur en parler, afin de tenir les affaires plus secrètes et qu'il n'y ait que le commissionaire à le savoir, lequel en rend compte à son retour des indes, directement à celui qui en a donne la cargaison en confiance sans avoir nul egard pour ceux au nom desquels le chargement à été fait, et lorsque ces commissionaires reviennent des indes soit sur le flottes galions ou navires particuliers, ils apportent leur argent dans leurs coffres, la pluspart entre pont et sans connoissement." (margry: relations et mémoires inédits pour servir à l'histoire de la france dans les pays d'outremer, p. .) the importance to the maritime powers of preserving and protecting this clandestine trade is evident, especially as the spanish government frequently found it a convenient instrument for retaliating upon those nations against which it harboured some grudge. all that was necessary was to sequester the vessels and goods of merchants belonging to the nation at which it wished to strike. this happened frequently in the course of the seventeenth century. thus lerma in arrested the french merchants in spain to revenge himself on henry iv. in olivares seized dutch vessels. the goods of genoese merchants were sequestered by philip iv. in ; and in french merchandize was again seized, and mexican traders whose storehouses contained such goods were fined , ecus, although the same storehouses contained english and dutch goods which were left unnoticed. the fine was later restored upon admiral d'estrées' threat to bombard cadiz. the solicitude of the french government for this trade is expressed in a letter of colbert to the marquis de villars, ambassador at madrid, dated th february :--"il est tellement necessaire d'avoir soin d'assister les particuliers qui font leur trafic en espagne, pour maintenir le plus important commerce que nous ayons, que je suis persuadé que vous ferez toutes les instances qui pourront dépendre de vous ... en sorte que cette protection produira des avantages considérables au commerce des sujets de sa majesté" (_ibid._, p. ). _cf._ also the instructions of louis xiv. to the comte d'estrées, st april . the french admiral was to visit all the ports of the spaniards in the west indies, especially cartagena and san domingo; and to be always informed of the situation and advantages of these ports, and of the facilities and difficulties to be met with in case of an attack upon them; so that the spaniards might realise that if they failed to do justice to the french merchants on the return of the galleons, his majesty was always ready to force them to do so, either by attacking these galleons, or by capturing one of their west indian ports (_ibid._).] [footnote : weiss, _op. cit._, ii. p. .] [footnote : ibid., ii. p. .] [footnote : oppenheim: the naval tracts of sir wm. monson. vol. ii. appendix b., p. .] [footnote : in , owing to the difficulties experienced by merchants in ascending the guadalquivir, ships were given permission to load and register at cadiz under the supervision of an inspector or "visitador," and thereafter commerce and navigation tended more and more to gravitate to that port. after , in order to facilitate emigration to america, vessels were allowed to sail from certain other ports, notably san sebastian, bilboa, coruna, cartagena and malaga. the ships might register in these ports, but were obliged always to make their return voyage to seville. but either the _cedula_ was revoked, or was never made use of, for, according to scelle, there are no known instances of vessels sailing to america from those towns. the only other exceptions were in favour of the company of guipuzcoa in , to send ships from san sebastian to caracas, and of the company of galicia in , to send two vessels annually to campeache and vera cruz. (scelle, _op. cit._, i. pp. - and notes.)] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. _ff._] [footnote : in nov. charles v., against the opposition of the _contratacion_, ordered the council of the indies to appoint a resident judge at cadiz to replace the officers of the _casa_ there. this institution, called the "juzgado de indias," was, until the removal of the _casa_ to cadiz in , the source of constant disputes and irritation.] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. and note; duro: armada espanola, i. p. .] [footnote : the distinction between the flota or fleet for new spain and the galleons intended for terra firma only began with the opening of the great silver mines of potosi, the rich yields of which after made advisable an especial fleet for cartagena and nombre de dios. (oppenheim, ii. appendix b., p. .)] [footnote : memoir of mm. duhalde and de rochefort to the french king, (margry, _op. cit._, p. _ff._).] [footnote : memoir of mm. duhalde and de rochefort to the french king, (margry, _op. cit._, p. _ff._)] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. ; dampier: voyages, _ed._ , i. p. .] [footnote : gage: a new survey of the west indies, _ed._ , pp. - . when gage was at granada, in february , strict orders were received from gautemala that the ships were not to sail that year, because the president and audiencia were informed of some dutch and english ships lying in wait at the mouth of the river.] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. pp. - ; duhalde and de rochefort. there were two ways of sending goods from panama to porto bello. one was an overland route of leagues, and was used only during the summer. the other was by land as far as venta cruz, leagues from panama, and thence by water on the river chagre to its mouth, a distance of leagues. when the river was high the transit might be accomplished in two or three days, but at other times from six to twelve days were required. to transfer goods from chagre to porto bello was a matter of only eight or nine hours. this route was used in winter when the roads were rendered impassable by the great rains and floods. the overland journey, though shorter, was also more difficult and expensive. the goods were carried on long mule-trains, and the "roads, so-called, were merely bridle paths ... running through swamps and jungles, over hills and rocks, broken by unbridged rivers, and situated in one of the deadliest climates in the world." the project of a canal to be cut through the isthmus was often proposed to the councils in spain, but was never acted upon. (descript. ... of cartagena; oppenheim, i. p. .)] [footnote : nombre de dios, a few leagues to the east of porto bello, had formerly been the port where the galleons received the treasure brought from panama, but in the king of spain ordered the settlement to be abandoned on account of its unhealthiness, and because the harbour, being open to the sea, afforded little shelter to shipping. gage says that in his time nombre de dios was almost forsaken because of its climate. dampier, writing thirty years later, describes the site as a waste. "nombre de dios," he says, "is now nothing but a name. for i have lain ashore in the place where that city stood, but it is all overgrown with wood, so as to have no sign that any town hath been there." (voyages, _ed._ , i. p. .)] [footnote : gage, _ed._ , pp. - .] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. .] [footnote : oppenheim, ii. p. .] [footnote : when the margarita patache failed to meet the galleons at cartagena, it was given its clearance and allowed to sail alone to havana--a tempting prey to buccaneers hovering in those seas.] [footnote : duhalde and de rochefort.] [footnote : rawl. mss., a. , b; oppenheim, ii. p. .] [footnote : here i am following the mss. quoted by oppenheim (ii. pp. _ff._). instead of watering in hispaniola, the fleet sometimes stopped at dominica, or at aguada in porto rico.] [footnote : duhalde and de rochefort.] [footnote : quintal=about pounds.] [footnote : these "vaisseaux de registre" were supposed not to exceed tons, but through fraud were often double that burden.] [footnote : duhalde and de rochefort; scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. .] [footnote : gage, _ed._ , pp. - .] [footnote : duhalde and de rochefort; oppenheim, ii. p. .] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. ; recop., t. i. lib. iii. tit. viii.] [footnote : there seems to have been a contraband trade carried on at cadiz itself. foreign merchants embarked their goods upon the galleons directly from their own vessels in the harbour, without registering them with the _contratacion_; and on the return of the fleets received the price of their goods in ingots of gold and silver by the same fraud. it is scarcely possible that this was done without the tacit authorization of the council of the indies at madrid, for if the council had insisted upon a rigid execution of the laws regarding registration, detection would have been inevitable.] [footnote : weiss, _op. cit._, ii. p. .] [footnote : most of the offices in the spanish indies were venal. no one obtained a post without paying dearly for it, except the viceroys of mexico and peru, who were grandees, and received their places through favour at court. the governors of the ports, and the presidents of the audiencias established at panama, san domingo, and gautemala, bought their posts in spain. the offices in the interior were in the gift of the viceroys and sold to the highest bidder. although each port had three corregidors who audited the finances, as they also paid for their places, they connived with the governors. the consequence was inevitable. each official during his tenure of office expected to recover his initial outlay, and amass a small fortune besides. so not only were the bribes of interlopers acceptable, but the officials often themselves bought and sold the contraband articles.] [footnote : froude: history of england, viii. p. _ff._] [footnote : , august th. ralph lane to sir philip sidney. port ferdinando, virginia.--he has discovered the infinite riches of st. john (porto rico?) and hispaniola by dwelling on the islands five weeks. he thinks that if the queen finds herself burdened with the king of spain, to attempt them would be most honourable, feasible and profitable. he exhorts him not to refuse this good opportunity of rendering so great a service to the church of christ. the strength of the spaniards doth altogether grow from the mines of her treasure. extract, c.s.p. colon., - .] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, ii. p. xiii.] [footnote : scelle, _op. cit._, i. p. ix.] [footnote : , february . sir thos. roe to salisbury. port d'espaigne, trinidad.--he has seen more of the coast from the river amazon to the orinoco than any other englishman alive. the spaniards here are proud and insolent, yet needy and weak, their force is reputation, their safety is opinion. the spaniards treat the english worse than moors. the government is lazy and has more skill in planting and selling tobacco than in erecting colonies and marching armies. extract, c.s.p. colon., - . (roe was sent by prince henry upon a voyage of discovery to the indies.)] [footnote : "an historical account of the rise and growth of the west india colonies." by dalby thomas, lond., . (harl. miscell., , ii. .)] [footnote : oviedo: historia general de las indias, lib. xix. cap. xiii.; coleccion de documentos ... de ultramar, tom. iv. p. (deposition of the spanish captain at the isle of mona); pacheco, etc.: coleccion de documentos ... de las posesiones espanoles en america y oceania, tom. xl. p. (cross-examination of witnesses by officers of the royal audiencia in san domingo just after the visit of the english ship to that place); english historical review, xx. p. . the ship is identified with the "samson" dispatched by henry viii. in "with divers cunning men to seek strange regions," which sailed from the thames on th may in company with the "mary of guildford," was lost by her consort in a storm on the night of st july, and was believed to have foundered with all on board. (ibid.)] [footnote : hakluyt, _ed._ , iii. p. ; froude, _op. cit._, viii. p. .] [footnote : scelle., _op. cit._, i. pp. - , - .] [footnote : colecc. de doc. ... de ultramar. tom. vi. p. .] [footnote : froude, _op. cit._, viii. pp. - .] [footnote : corbett: drake and the tudor navy, i. ch. .] [footnote : corbett: drake and the tudor navy, ii. chs. , , .] [footnote : corbett: the successors of drake, ch. x.] [footnote : marcel: les corsaires français au xvie siècle, p. . as early as a royal ordinance in spain prescribed the construction of carracks to pursue the privateers, and in royal _cedulas_ were sent to the officials of the _casa de contratacion_ ordering them to send two caravels to guard the coasts of cuba and protect spanish navigation from the assaults of french corsairs. (ibid., p. ).] [footnote : colecc. de doc. ... de ultramar, tomos i., iv., vi.; ducéré: les corsaires sous l'ancien régime. append. ii.; duro., _op. cit._, i. append. xiv.] [footnote : colecc. de doc. ... de ultramar, tom. vi. p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : marcel, _op. cit._, p. .] [footnote : colecc. de doc. ... de ultramar, tom. vi. p. .] [footnote : colecc. de doc. ... de ultramar, tom. vi. p. .] [footnote : lucas: a historical geography of the british colonies, vol. ii. pp. , .] [footnote : weiss, _op. cit._, ii. p. .] [footnote : duro, _op. cit._, iii. ch. xvi.; iv. chs. iii., viii.] [footnote : portugal between and was subject to the crown of spain, and brazil, a portuguese colony, was consequently within the pale of spanish influence and administration.] [footnote : blok: history of the people of the netherlands, iv. p. .] [footnote : blok: history of the people of the netherlands, iv. p. ; duro, _op. cit._, iv. p. ; gage, _ed._ , p. .] [footnote : brit. mus., add. mss., , , no. .] [footnote : robert rich, earl of warwick, was created admiral of the fleet by order of parliament in march , and although removed by charles i. was reinstated by parliament on st july.] [footnote : brit. mus., sloane mss., or ; add. mss., , , no. .] [footnote : winwood papers, ii. pp. - .] [footnote : brown: genesis of the united states, i. pp. - , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - .] [footnote : clarendon state papers, ii. p. ; rymer: f[oe]dera, xx. p. .] [footnote : duro, _op. cit._, ii. p. .] [footnote : duro, _op. cit._, iii. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. venet., - , p. .] [footnote : winwood papers, ii. p. .] [footnote : brit. mus., add. mss., , , no. ; , , no. ; , , no. ; , , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - :-- , th and th nov.; , th july.] [footnote : gage saw at cartagena about a dozen english prisoners captured by the spaniards at sea, and belonging to the settlement on providence island.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - :-- , th march; , th march.] [footnote : brit. mus., add. mss., , , no. .] [footnote : duro, tomo., iv. p. ; _cf._ also in bodleian library:--"a letter written upon occasion in the low countries, etc. whereunto is added avisos from several places, of the taking of the island of providence, by the spaniards from the english. london. printed for nath. butter, mar. , . "i have letter by an aviso from cartagena, dated the th of september, wherein they advise that the galleons were ready laden with the silver, and would depart thence the th of october. the general of the galleons, named francisco dias pimienta, had beene formerly in the moneth of july with above men, and the least of his ships, in the island of s. catalina, where he had taken and carried away with all the english, and razed the forts, wherein they found negroes, much gold and indigo, so that the prize is esteemed worth above halfe a million."] [footnote : rawl. mss., a. , ; , .] chapter ii the beginnings of the buccaneers in the second half of the sixteenth and the early part of the seventeenth centuries, strangers who visited the great spanish islands of hispaniola, jamaica or porto rico, usually remarked the extraordinary number of wild cattle and boars found roaming upon them. these herds were in every case sprung from domestic animals originally brought from spain. for as the aborigines in the greater antilles decreased in numbers under the heavy yoke of their conquerors, and as the spaniards themselves turned their backs upon the antilles for the richer allurements of the continent, less and less land was left under cultivation; and cattle, hogs, horses and even dogs ran wild, increased at a rapid rate, and soon filled the broad savannas and deep woods which covered the greater part of these islands. the northern shore of hispaniola the spaniards had never settled, and thither, probably from an early period, interloping ships were accustomed to resort when in want of victuals. with a long range of uninhabited coast, good anchorage and abundance of provisions, this northern shore could not fail to induce some to remain. in time we find there scattered groups of hunters, mostly french and english, who gained a rude livelihood by killing wild cattle for their skins, and curing the flesh to supply the needs of passing vessels. the origin of these men we do not know. they may have been deserters from ships, crews of wrecked vessels, or even chance marooners. in any case the charm of their half-savage, independent mode of life must soon have attracted others, and a fairly regular traffic sprang up between them and the ubiquitous dutch traders, whom they supplied with hides, tallow and cured meat in return for the few crude necessities and luxuries they required. their numbers were recruited in by colonists from st. kitts who had fled before don federico de toledo. making common lot with the hunters, the refugees found sustenance so easy and the natural bounty of the island so rich and varied, that many remained and settled. to the north-west of hispaniola lies a small, rocky island about eight leagues in length and two in breadth, separated by a narrow channel from its larger neighbour. from the shore of hispaniola the island appears in form like a monster sea-turtle floating upon the waves, and hence was named by the spaniards "tortuga." so mountainous and inaccessible on the northern side as to be called the côte-de-fer, and with only one harbour upon the south, it offered a convenient refuge to the french and english hunters should the spaniards become troublesome. these hunters probably ventured across to tortuga before , for there are indications that a spanish expedition was sent against the island from hispaniola in or , and a division of the spoil made in the city of san domingo after its return.[ ] it was then, apparently, that the spaniards left upon tortuga an officer and twenty-eight men, the small garrison which, says charlevoix, was found there when the hunters returned. the spanish soldiers were already tired of their exile upon this lonely, inhospitable rock, and evacuated with the same satisfaction with which the french and english resumed their occupancy. from the testimony of some documents in the english colonial archives we may gather that the english from the first were in predominance in the new colony, and exercised almost sole authority. in the minutes of the providence company, under date of th may , we find that a committee was "appointed to treat with the agents for a colony of about persons, settled upon tortuga";[ ] and a few weeks later that "the planters upon the island of tortuga desired the company to take them under their protection, and to be at the charge of their fortification, in consideration of a twentieth part of the commodities raised there yearly."[ ] at the same time the earl of holland, governor of the company, and his associates petitioned the king for an enlargement of their grant "only of or degrees of northerly latitude, to avoid all doubts as to whether one of the islands (tortuga) was contained in their former grant."[ ] although there were several islands named tortuga in the region of the west indies, all the evidence points to the identity of the island concerned in this petition with the tortuga near the north coast of hispaniola.[ ] the providence company accepted the offer of the settlers upon tortuga, and sent a ship to reinforce the little colony with six pieces of ordnance, a supply of ammunition and provisions, and a number of apprentices or _engagés_. a captain hilton was appointed governor, with captain christopher wormeley to succeed him in case of the governor's death or absence, and the name of the island was changed from tortuga to association.[ ] although consisting for the most part of high land covered with tall cedar woods, the island contained in the south and west broad savannas which soon attracted planters as well as cattle-hunters. some of the inhabitants of st. kitts, wearied of the dissensions between the french and english there, and allured by reports of quiet and plenty in tortuga, deserted st. kitts for the new colony. the settlement, however, was probably always very poor and struggling, for in january the providence company received advice that captain hilton intended to desert the island and draw most of the inhabitants after him; and a declaration was sent out from england to the planters, assuring them special privileges of trade and domicile, and dissuading them from "changing certain ways of profit already discovered for uncertain hopes suggested by fancy or persuasion."[ ] the question of remaining or departing, indeed, was soon decided for the colonists without their volition, for in december a spanish force from hispaniola invaded the island and drove out all the english and french they found there. it seems that an irishman named "don juan morf" (john murphy?),[ ] who had been "sargento-mayor" in tortuga, became discontented with the _régime_ there and fled to cartagena. the spanish governor of cartagena sent him to don gabriel de gaves, president of the audiencia in san domingo, thinking that with the information the renegade was able to supply the spaniards of hispaniola might drive out the foreigners. the president of san domingo, however, died three months later without bestirring himself, and it was left to his successor to carry out the project. with the information given by murphy, added to that obtained from prisoners, he sent a force of foot under command of rui fernandez de fuemayor to take the island.[ ] at this time, according to the spaniards' account, there were in tortuga men bearing arms, besides slaves, women and children. the harbour was commanded by a platform of six cannon. the spaniards approached the island just before dawn, but through the ignorance of the pilot the whole armadilla was cast upon some reefs near the shore. rui fernandez with about thirty of his men succeeded in reaching land in canoes, seized the fort without any difficulty, and although his followers were so few managed to disperse a body of the enemy who were approaching, with the english governor at their head, to recover it. in the mêlée the governor was one of the first to be killed--stabbed, say the spaniards, by the irishman, who took active part in the expedition and fought by the side of rui fernandez. meanwhile some of the inhabitants, thinking that they could not hold the island, had regained the fort, spiked the guns and transferred the stores to several ships in the harbour, which sailed away leaving only two dismantled boats and a patache to fall into the hands of the spaniards. rui fernandez, reinforced by some of his men who had succeeded in escaping from the stranded armadilla, now turned his attention to the settlement. he found his way barred by another body of several hundred english, but dispersed them too, and took seventy prisoners. the houses were then sacked and the tobacco plantations burned by the soldiers, and the spaniards returned to san domingo with four captured banners, the six pieces of artillery and muskets.[ ] the spanish occupation apparently did not last very long, for in the following april the providence company appointed captain nicholas riskinner to be governor of tortuga in place of wormeley, and in february it learned that riskinner was in possession of the island.[ ] two planters just returned from the colony, moreover, informed the company that there were then some english in the settlement, besides negroes. it is evident that the colonists were mostly cattle-hunters, for they assured the company that they could supply tortuga with beasts a month from hispaniola, and would deliver calves there at twenty shillings apiece.[ ] yet at a later meeting of the adventurers on th january , a project for sending more men and ammunition to the island was suddenly dropped "upon intelligence that the inhabitants had quitted it and removed to hispaniola."[ ] for three years thereafter the providence records are silent concerning tortuga. a few frenchmen must have remained on the island, however, for charlevoix informs us that in the general of the galleons swooped down upon the colony, put to the sword all who failed to escape to the hills and woods, and again destroyed all the habitations.[ ] persuaded that the hunters would not expose themselves to a repetition of such treatment, the spaniards neglected to leave a garrison, and a few scattered frenchmen gradually filtered back to their ruined homes. it was about this time, it seems, that the president of san domingo formed a body of armed lancers in an effort to drive the intruders from the larger island of hispaniola. these lancers, half of whom were always kept in the field, were divided into companies of fifty each, whence they were called by the french, "cinquantaines." ranging the woods and savannas this spanish constabulary attacked isolated hunters wherever they found them, and they formed an important element in the constant warfare between the french and spanish colonists throughout the rest of the century.[ ] meanwhile an english adventurer, some time after the spanish descent of , gathered a body of of his compatriots in the island of nevis near st. kitts, and sailing for tortuga dispossessed the few frenchmen living there of the island. according to french accounts he was received amicably by the inhabitants and lived with them for four months, when he turned upon his hosts, disarmed them and marooned them upon the opposite shore of hispaniola. a few made their way to st. kitts and complained to m. de poincy, the governor-general of the french islands, who seized the opportunity to establish a french governor in tortuga. living at that time in st. kitts was a huguenot gentleman named levasseur, who had been a companion-in-arms of d'esnambuc when the latter settled st. kitts in , and after a short visit to france had returned and made his fortune in trade. he was a man of courage and command as well as a skilful engineer, and soon rose high in the councils of de poincy. being a calvinist, however, he had drawn upon the governor the reproaches of the authorities at home; and de poincy proposed to get rid of his presence, now become inconvenient, by sending him to subdue tortuga. levasseur received his commission from de poincy in may , assembled forty or fifty followers, all calvinists, and sailed in a barque to hispaniola. he established himself at port margot, about five leagues from tortuga, and entered into friendly relations with his english neighbours. he was but biding his time, however, and on the last day of august , on the plea that the english had ill-used some of his followers and had seized a vessel sent by de poincy to obtain provisions, he made a sudden descent upon the island with only men and captured the governor. the inhabitants retired to hispaniola, but a few days later returned and besieged levasseur for ten days. finding that they could not dislodge him, they sailed away with all their people to the island of providence.[ ] levasseur, fearing perhaps another descent of the spaniards, lost no time in putting the settlement in a state of defence. although the port of tortuga was little more than a roadstead, it offered a good anchorage on a bottom of fine sand, the approaches to which were easily defended by a hill or promontory overlooking the harbour. the top of this hill, situated or paces from the shore, was a level platform, and upon it rose a steep rock some feet high. nine or ten paces from the base of the rock gushed forth a perennial fountain of fresh water. the new governor quickly made the most of these natural advantages. the platform he shaped into terraces, with means for accommodating several hundred men. on the top of the rock he built a house for himself, as well as a magazine, and mounted a battery of two guns. the only access to the rock was by a narrow approach, up half of which steps were cut in the stone, the rest of the ascent being by means of an iron ladder which could easily be raised and lowered.[ ] this little fortress, in which the governor could repose with a feeling of entire security, he euphuistically called his "dove-cote." the dove-cote was not finished any too soon, for the spaniards of san domingo in determined to destroy this rising power in their neighbourhood, and sent against levasseur a force of or men. when they tried to land within a half gunshot of the shore, however, they were greeted with a discharge of artillery from the fort, which sank one of the vessels and forced the rest to retire. the spaniards withdrew to a place two leagues to leeward, where they succeeded in disembarking, but fell into an ambush laid by levasseur, lost, according to the french accounts, between and men, and fled to their ships and back to hispaniola. with this victory the reputation of levasseur spread far and wide throughout the islands, and for ten years the spaniards made no further attempt to dislodge the french settlement.[ ] planters, hunters and corsairs now came in greater numbers to tortuga. the hunters, using the smaller island merely as a headquarters for supplies and a retreat in time of danger, penetrated more boldly than ever into the interior of hispaniola, plundering the spanish plantations in their path, and establishing settlements on the north shore at port margot and port de paix. corsairs, after cruising and robbing along the spanish coasts, retired to tortuga to refit and find a market for their spoils. plantations of tobacco and sugar were cultivated, and although the soil never yielded such rich returns as upon the other islands, dutch and french trading ships frequently resorted there for these commodities, and especially for the skins prepared by the hunters, bringing in exchange brandy, guns, powder and cloth. indeed, under the active, positive administration of levasseur, tortuga enjoyed a degree of prosperity which almost rivalled that of the french settlements in the leeward islands. the term "buccaneer," though usually applied to the corsairs who in the seventeenth century ravaged the spanish possessions in the west indies and the south seas, should really be restricted to these cattle-hunters of west and north-west hispaniola. the flesh of the wild-cattle was cured by the hunters after a fashion learnt from the caribbee indians. the meat was cut into long strips, laid upon a grate or hurdle constructed of green sticks, and dried over a slow wood fire fed with bones and the trimmings of the hide of the animal. by this means an excellent flavour was imparted to the meat and a fine red colour. the place where the flesh was smoked was called by the indians a "boucan," and the same term, from the poverty of an undeveloped language, was applied to the frame or grating on which the flesh was dried. in course of time the dried meat became known as "viande boucannée," and the hunters themselves as "boucaniers" or "buccaneers." when later circumstances led the hunters to combine their trade in flesh and hides with that of piracy, the name gradually lost its original significance and acquired, in the english language at least, its modern and better-known meaning of corsair or freebooter. the french adventurers, however, seem always to have restricted the word "boucanier" to its proper signification, that of a hunter and curer of meat; and when they developed into corsairs, by a curious contrast they adopted an english name and called themselves "filibustiers," which is merely the french sailor's way of pronouncing the english word "freebooter."[ ] the buccaneers or west indian corsairs owed their origin as well as their name to the cattle and hog-hunters of hispaniola and tortuga. doubtless many of the wilder, more restless spirits in the smaller islands of the windward and leeward groups found their way into the ranks of this piratical fraternity, or were willing at least to lend a hand in an occasional foray against their spanish neighbours. we know that jackson, in , had no difficulty in gathering or men from barbadoes and st. kitts for his ill-starred dash upon the spanish main. and when the french in later years made their periodical descents upon the dutch stations on tobago, curaçao and st. eustatius, they always found in their island colonies of martinique and guadeloupe buccaneers enough and more, eager to fill their ships. it seems to be generally agreed, however, among the jesuit historians of the west indies--and upon these writers we are almost entirely dependent for our knowledge of the origins of buccaneering--that the corsairs had their source and nucleus in the hunters who infested the coasts of hispaniola. between the hunter and the pirate at first no impassable line was drawn. the same person combined in himself the occupations of cow-killing and cruising, varying the monotony of the one by occasionally trying his hand at the other. in either case he lived at constant enmity with the spaniards. with the passing of time the sea attracted more and more away from their former pursuits. even the planters who were beginning to filter into the new settlements found the attractions of coursing against the spaniards to be irresistible. great extremes of fortune, such as those to which the buccaneers were subject, have always exercised an attraction over minds of an adventurous stamp. it was the same allurement which drew the "forty-niners" to california, and in the gold-seekers to the canadian klondyke. if the suffering endured was often great, the prize to be gained was worth it. fortune, if fickle one day, might the next bring incredible bounty, and the buccaneers who sweltered in a tropical sea, with starvation staring them in the face, dreamed of rolling in the oriental wealth of a spanish argosy. especially to the cattle-hunter must this temptation have been great, for his mode of life was the very rudest. he roamed the woods by day with his dog and apprentices, and at night slept in the open air or in a rude shed hastily constructed of leaves and skins, which served as a house, and which he called after the indian name, "ajoupa" or "barbacoa." his dress was of the simplest--coarse cloth trousers, and a shirt which hung loosely over them, both pieces so black and saturated with the blood and grease of slain animals that they looked as if they had been tarred ("de toile gaudronnée").[ ] a belt of undressed bull's hide bound the shirt, and supported on one side three or four large knives, on the other a pouch for powder and shot. a cap with a short pointed brim extending over the eyes, rude shoes of cowhide or pigskin made all of one piece bound over the foot, and a short, large-bore musket, completed the hunter's grotesque outfit. often he carried wound about his waist a sack of netting into which he crawled at night to keep off the pestiferous mosquitoes. with creditable regularity he and his apprentices arose early in the morning and started on foot for the hunt, eating no food until they had killed and skinned as many wild cattle or swine as there were persons in the company. after having skinned the last animal, the master-hunter broke its softest bones and made a meal for himself and his followers on the marrow. then each took up a hide and returned to the boucan, where they dined on the flesh they had killed.[ ] in this fashion the hunter lived for the space of six months or a year. then he made a division of the skins and dried meat, and repaired to tortuga or one of the french settlements on the coast of hispaniola to recoup his stock of ammunition and spend the rest of his gains in a wild carouse of drunkenness and debauchery. his money gone, he returned again to the hunt. the cow-killers, as they had neither wife nor children, commonly associated in pairs with the right of inheriting from each other, a custom which was called "matelotage." these private associations, however, did not prevent the property of all from being in a measure common. their mode of settling quarrels was the most primitive--the duel. in other things they governed themselves by a certain "coutumier," a medley of bizarre laws which they had originated among themselves. at any attempt to bring them under civilised rules, the reply always was, "telle étoit la coutume de la côte"; and that definitely closed the matter. they based their rights thus to live upon the fact, they said, of having passed the tropic, where, borrowing from the sailor's well-known superstition, they pretended to have drowned all their former obligations.[ ] even their family names they discarded, and the saying was in those days that one knew a man in the isles only when he was married. from a life of this sort, cruising against spanish ships, if not an unmixed good, was at least always a desirable recreation. every spanish prize brought into tortuga, moreover, was an incitement to fresh adventure against the common foe. the "gens de la côte," as they called themselves, ordinarily associated a score or more together, and having taken or built themselves a canoe, put to sea with intent to seize a spanish barque or some other coasting vessel. with silent paddles, under cover of darkness, they approached the unsuspecting prey, killed the frightened sailors or drove them overboard, and carried the prize to tortuga. there the raiders either dispersed to their former occupations, or gathered a larger crew of congenial spirits and sailed away for bigger game. all the jesuit historians of the west indies, dutertre, labat and charlevoix, have left us accounts of the manners and customs of the buccaneers. the dutch physician, exquemelin, who lived with the buccaneers for several years, from to , and wrote a picturesque narrative from materials at his disposal, has also been a source for the ideas of most later writers on the subject. it may not be out of place to quote his description of the men whose deeds he recorded. "before the pirates go out to sea," he writes, "they give notice to every one who goes upon the voyage of the day on which they ought precisely to embark, intimating also to them their obligation of bringing each man in particular so many pounds of powder and bullets as they think necessary for that expedition. being all come on board, they join together in council, concerning what place they ought first to go wherein to get provisions--especially of flesh, seeing they scarce eat anything else. and of this the most common sort among them is pork. the next food is tortoises, which they are accustomed to salt a little. sometimes they resolve to rob such or such hog-yards, wherein the spaniards often have a thousand heads of swine together. they come to these places in the dark of night, and having beset the keeper's lodge, they force him to rise, and give them as many heads as they desire, threatening withal to kill him in case he disobeys their command or makes any noise. yea, these menaces are oftentimes put in execution, without giving any quarter to the miserable swine-keepers, or any other person that endeavours to hinder their robberies. "having got provisions of flesh sufficient for their voyage, they return to their ship. here their allowance, twice a day to every one, is as much as he can eat, without either weight or measure. neither does the steward of the vessel give any greater proportion of flesh or anything else to the captain than to the meanest mariner. the ship being well victualled, they call another council, to deliberate towards what place they shall go, to seek their desperate fortunes. in this council, likewise, they agree upon certain articles, which are put in writing, by way of bond or obligation, which everyone is bound to observe, and all of them, or the chief, set their hands to it. herein they specify, and set down very distinctly, what sums of money each particular person ought to have for that voyage, the fund of all the payments being the common stock of what is gotten by the whole expedition; for otherwise it is the same law, among these people, as with other pirates, 'no prey, no pay.' in the first place, therefore, they mention how much the captain ought to have for his ship. next the salary of the carpenter, or shipwright, who careened, mended and rigged the vessel. this commonly amounts to or pieces of eight, being, according to the agreement, more or less. afterwards for provisions and victualling they draw out of the same common stock about pieces of eight. also a competent salary for the surgeon and his chest of medicaments, which is usually rated at or pieces of eight. lastly they stipulate in writing what recompense or reward each one ought to have, that is either wounded or maimed in his body, suffering the loss of any limb, by that voyage. thus they order for the loss of a right arm pieces of eight, or six slaves; for the loss of a left arm pieces of eight, or five slaves; for a right leg pieces of eight, or five slaves; for the left leg pieces of eight, or four slaves; for an eye pieces of eight or one slave; for a finger of the hand the same reward as for the eye. all which sums of money, as i have said before, are taken out of the capital sum or common stock of what is got by their piracy. for a very exact and equal dividend is made of the remainder among them all. yet herein they have also regard to qualities and places. thus the captain, or chief commander, is allotted five or six portions to what the ordinary seamen have; the master's mate only two; and other officers proportionate to their employment. after whom they draw equal parts from the highest even to the lowest mariner, the boys not being omitted. for even these draw half a share, by reason that, when they happen to take a better vessel than their own, it is the duty of the boys to set fire to the ship or boat wherein they are, and then retire to the prize which they have taken. "they observe among themselves very good orders. for in the prizes they take it is severely prohibited to everyone to usurp anything in particular to themselves. hence all they take is equally divided, according to what has been said before. yea, they make a solemn oath to each other not to abscond or conceal the least thing they find amongst the prey. if afterwards anyone is found unfaithful, who has contravened the said oath, immediately he is separated and turned out of the society. among themselves they are very civil and charitable to each other. insomuch that if any wants what another has, with great liberality they give it one to another. as soon as these pirates have taken any prize of ship or boat, the first thing they endeavour is to set on shore the prisoners, detaining only some few for their own help and service, to whom also they give their liberty after the space of two or three years. they put in very frequently for refreshment at one island or another; but more especially into those which lie on the southern side of the isle of cuba. here they careen their vessels, and in the meanwhile some of them go to hunt, others to cruise upon the seas in canoes, seeking their fortune. many times they take the poor fishermen of tortoises, and carrying them to their habitations they make them work so long as the pirates are pleased." the articles which fixed the conditions under which the buccaneers sailed were commonly called the "chasse-partie."[ ] in the earlier days of buccaneering, before the period of great leaders like mansfield, morgan and grammont, the captain was usually chosen from among their own number. although faithfully obeyed he was removable at will, and had scarcely more prerogative than the ordinary sailor. after the buccaneers generally sailed under commissions from the governors of jamaica or tortuga, and then they always set aside one tenth of the profits for the governor. but when their prizes were unauthorised they often withdrew to some secluded coast to make a partition of the booty, and on their return to port eased the governor's conscience with politic gifts; and as the governor generally had little control over these difficult people he found himself all the more obliged to dissimulate. although the buccaneers were called by the spaniards "ladrones" and "demonios," names which they richly deserved, they often gave part of their spoil to churches in the ports which they frequented, especially if among the booty they found any ecclesiastical ornaments or the stuffs for making them--articles which not infrequently formed an important part of the cargo of spanish treasure ships. in march the jesuit writer, labat, took part in a mass at martinique which was performed for some french buccaneers in pursuance of a vow made when they were taking two english vessels near barbadoes. the french vessel and its two prizes were anchored near the church, and fired salutes of all their cannon at the beginning of the mass, at the elevation of the host, at the benediction, and again at the end of the te deum sung after the mass.[ ] labat, who, although a priest, is particularly lenient towards the crimes of the buccaneers, and who we suspect must have been the recipient of numerous "favours" from them out of their store of booty, relates a curious tale of the buccaneer, captain daniel, a tale which has often been used by other writers, but which may bear repetition. daniel, in need of provisions, anchored one night off one of the "saintes," small islands near dominica, and landing without opposition, took possession of the house of the curé and of some other inhabitants of the neighbourhood. he carried the curé and his people on board his ship without offering them the least violence, and told them that he merely wished to buy some wine, brandy and fowls. while these were being gathered, daniel requested the curé to celebrate mass, which the poor priest dared not refuse. so the necessary sacred vessels were sent for and an altar improvised on the deck for the service, which they chanted to the best of their ability. as at martinique, the mass was begun by a discharge of artillery, and after the exaudiat and prayer for the king was closed by a loud "vive le roi!" from the throats of the buccaneers. a single incident, however, somewhat disturbed the devotions. one of the buccaneers, remaining in an indecent attitude during the elevation, was rebuked by the captain, and instead of heeding the correction, replied with an impertinence and a fearful oath. quick as a flash daniel whipped out his pistol and shot the buccaneer through the head, adjuring god that he would do as much to the first who failed in his respect to the holy sacrifice. the shot was fired close by the priest, who, as we can readily imagine, was considerably agitated. "do not be troubled, my father," said daniel; "he is a rascal lacking in his duty and i have punished him to teach him better." a very efficacious means, remarks labat, of preventing his falling into another like mistake. after the mass the body of the dead man was thrown into the sea, and the curé was recompensed for his pains by some goods out of their stock and the present of a negro slave.[ ] the buccaneers preferred to sail in barques, vessels of one mast and rigged with triangular sails. this type of boat, they found, could be more easily man[oe]uvred, was faster and sailed closer to the wind. the boats were built of cedar, and the best were reputed to come from bermuda. they carried very few guns, generally from six to twelve or fourteen, the corsairs believing that four muskets did more execution than one cannon.[ ] the buccaneers sometimes used brigantines, vessels with two masts, the fore or mizzenmast being square-rigged with two sails and the mainmast rigged like that of a barque. the corsair at martinique of whom labat speaks was captain of a corvette, a boat like a brigantine, except that all the sails were square-rigged. at the beginning of a voyage the freebooters were generally so crowded in their small vessels that they suffered much from lack of room. moreover, they had little protection from sun and rain, and with but a small stock of provisions often faced starvation. it was this as much as anything which frequently inspired them to attack without reflection any possible prize, great or small, and to make themselves masters of it or perish in the attempt. their first object was to come to close quarters; and although a single broadside would have sunk their small craft, they man[oe]uvred so skilfully as to keep their bow always presented to the enemy, while their musketeers cleared the enemy's decks until the time when the captain judged it proper to board. the buccaneers rarely attacked spanish ships on the outward voyage from europe to america, for such ships were loaded with wines, cloths, grains and other commodities for which they had little use, and which they could less readily turn into available wealth. outgoing vessels also carried large crews and a considerable number of passengers. it was the homeward-bound ships, rather, which attracted their avarice, for in such vessels the crews were smaller and the cargo consisted of precious metals, dye-woods and jewels, articles which the freebooters could easily dispose of to the merchants and tavern-keepers of the ports they frequented. the gulf of honduras and the mosquito coast, dotted with numerous small islands and protecting reefs, was a favourite retreat for the buccaneers. as the clumsy spanish war-vessels of the period found it ticklish work threading these tortuous channels, where a sudden adverse wind usually meant disaster, the buccaneers there felt secure from interference; and in the creeks, lagoons and river-mouths densely shrouded by tropical foliage, they were able to careen and refit their vessels, divide their booty, and enjoy a respite from their sea-forays. thence, too, they preyed upon the spanish ships which sailed from the coast of cartagena to porto bello, nicaragua, mexico, and the larger antilles, and were a constant menace to the great treasure galleons of the terra-firma fleet. the english settlement on the island of providence, lying as it did off the nicaragua coast and in the very track of spanish commerce in those regions, was, until captured in , a source of great fear to spanish mariners; and when in some english occupied the island of roatan, near truxillo, the governor of cuba and the presidents of the audiencias at gautemala and san domingo jointly equipped an expedition of four vessels under d. francisco de villalba y toledo, which drove out the intruders.[ ] closer to the buccaneering headquarters in tortuga (and later in jamaica) were the straits separating the great west indian islands:--the yucatan channel at the western end of cuba, the passage between cuba and hispaniola in the east, and the mona passage between hispaniola and porto rico. in these regions the corsairs waited to pick up stray spanish merchantmen, and watched for the coming of the galleons or the flota.[ ] when the buccaneers returned from their cruises they generally squandered in a few days, in the taverns of the towns which they frequented, the wealth which had cost them such peril and labour. some of these outlaws, says exquemelin, would spend or pieces of eight[ ] in one night, not leaving themselves a good shirt to wear on their backs in the morning. "my own master," he continues, "would buy, on like occasions, a whole pipe of wine, and placing it in the street would force every one that passed by to drink with him; threatening also to pistol them in case they would not do it. at other times he would do the same with barrels of ale or beer. and, very often, with both in his hands, he would throw these liquors about the streets, and wet the clothes of such as walked by, without regarding whether he spoiled their apparel or not, were they men or women." the taverns and ale-houses always welcomed the arrival of these dissolute corsairs; and although they extended long credits, they also at times sold as indentured servants those who had run too deeply into debt, as happened in jamaica to this same patron or master of whom exquemelin wrote. until buccaneering in the west indies was more or less accidental, occasional, in character. in the second half of the century, however, the numbers of the freebooters greatly increased, and men entirely deserted their former occupations for the excitement and big profits of the "course." there were several reasons for this increase in the popularity of buccaneering. the english adventurers in hispaniola had lost their profession of hunting very early, for with the coming of levasseur the french had gradually elbowed them out of the island, and compelled them either to retire to the lesser antilles or to prey upon their spanish neighbours. but the french themselves were within the next twenty years driven to the same expedient. the spanish colonists on hispaniola, unable to keep the french from the island, at last foolishly resolved, according to charlevoix's account, to remove the principal attraction by destroying all the wild cattle. if the trade with french vessels and the barter of hides for brandy could be arrested, the hunters would be driven from the woods by starvation. this policy, together with the wasteful methods pursued by the hunters, caused a rapid decrease in the number of cattle. the spaniards, however, did not dream of the consequences of their action. many of the french, forced to seek another occupation, naturally fell into the way of buccaneering. the hunters of cattle became hunters of spaniards, and the sea became the savanna on which they sought their game. exquemelin tells us that when he arrived at the island there were scarcely three hundred engaged in hunting, and even these found their livelihood precarious. it was from this time forward to the end of the century that the buccaneers played so important a _rôle_ on the stage of west indian history. another source of recruits for the freebooters were the indentured servants or _engagés_. we hear a great deal of the barbarity with which west indian planters and hunters in the seventeenth century treated their servants, and we may well believe that many of the latter, finding their situation unendurable, ran away from their plantations or ajoupas to join the crew of a chance corsair hovering in the neighbourhood. the hunters' life, as we have seen, was not one of revelry and ease. on the one side were all the insidious dangers lurking in a wild, tropical forest; on the other, the relentless hostility of the spaniards. the environment of the hunters made them rough and cruel, and for many an _engagé_ his three years of servitude must have been a veritable purgatory. the servants of the planters were in no better position. decoyed from norman and breton towns and villages by the loud-sounding promises of sea-captains and west indian agents, they came to seek an el dorado, and often found only despair and death. the want of sufficient negroes led men to resort to any artifice in order to obtain assistance in cultivating the sugar-cane and tobacco. the apprentices sent from europe were generally bound out in the french antilles for eighteen months or three years, among the english for seven years. they were often resold in the interim, and sometimes served ten or twelve years before they regained their freedom. they were veritable convicts, often more ill-treated than the slaves with whom they worked side by side, for their lives, after the expiration of their term of service, were of no consequence to their masters. many of these apprentices, of good birth and tender education, were unable to endure the debilitating climate and hard labour, let alone the cruelty of their employers. exquemelin, himself originally an _engagé_, gives a most piteous description of their sufferings. he was sold to the lieutenant-governor of tortuga, who treated him with great severity and refused to take less than pieces of eight for his freedom. falling ill through vexation and despair, he passed into the hands of a surgeon, who proved kind to him and finally gave him his liberty for pieces of eight, to be paid after his first buccaneering voyage.[ ] we left levasseur governor in tortuga after the abortive spanish attack of . finding his personal ascendancy so complete over the rude natures about him, levasseur, like many a greater man in similar circumstances, lost his sense of the rights of others. his character changed, he became suspicious and intolerant, and the settlers complained bitterly of his cruelty and overbearing temper. having come as the leader of a band of huguenots, he forbade the roman catholics to hold services on the island, burnt their chapel and turned out their priest. he placed heavy imposts on trade, and soon amassed a considerable fortune.[ ] in his eyrie upon the rock fortress, he is said to have kept for his enemies a cage of iron, in which the prisoner could neither stand nor lie down, and which levasseur, with grim humour, called his "little hell." a dungeon in his castle he termed in like fashion his "purgatory." all these stories, however, are reported by the jesuits, his natural foes, and must be taken with a grain of salt. de poincy, who himself ruled with despotic authority and was guilty of similar cruelties, would have turned a deaf ear to the denunciations against his lieutenant, had not his jealousy been aroused by the suspicion that levasseur intended to declare himself an independent prince.[ ] so the governor-general, already in bad odour at court for having given levasseur means of establishing a little geneva in tortuga, began to disavow him to the authorities at home. he also sent his nephew, m. de lonvilliers, to tortuga, on the pretext of complimenting levasseur on his victory over the spaniards, but really to endeavour to entice him back to st. kitts. levasseur, subtle and penetrating, skilfully avoided the trap, and lonvilliers returned to st. kitts alone. charlevoix relates an amusing instance of the governor's stubborn resistance to de poincy's authority. a silver statue of the virgin, captured by some buccaneer from a spanish ship, had been appropriated by levasseur, and de poincy, desiring to decorate his chapel with it, wrote to him demanding the statue, and observing that a protestant had no use for such an object. levasseur, however, replied that the protestants had a great adoration for silver virgins, and that catholics being "trop spirituels pour tenir à la matière," he was sending him, instead, a madonna of painted wood. after a tenure of power for twelve years, levasseur came to the end of his tether. while de poincy was resolving upon an expedition to oust him from authority, two adventurers named martin and thibault, whom levasseur had adopted as his heirs, and with whom, it is said, he had quarrelled over a mistress, shot him as he was descending from the fort to the shore, and completed the murder by a poniard's thrust. they then seized the government without any opposition from the inhabitants.[ ] meanwhile there had arrived at st. kitts the chevalier de fontenay, a soldier of fortune who had distinguished himself against the turks and was attracted by the gleam of spanish gold. he it was whom de poincy chose as the man to succeed levasseur. the opportunity for action was eagerly accepted by de fontenay, but the project was kept secret, for if levasseur had got wind of it all the forces in st. kitts could not have dislodged him. volunteers were raised on the pretext of a privateering expedition to the coasts of cartagena, and to complete the deception de fontenay actually sailed for the main and captured several prizes. the rendezvous was on the coast of hispaniola, where de fontenay was eventually joined by de poincy's nephew, m. de treval, with another frigate and materials for a siege. learning of the murder of levasseur, the invaders at once sailed for tortuga and landed several hundred men at the spot where the spaniards had formerly been repulsed. the two assassins, finding the inhabitants indisposed to support them, capitulated to de fontenay on receiving pardon for their crime and the peaceful possession of their property. catholicism was restored, commerce was patronized and buccaneers encouraged to use the port. two stone bastions were raised on the platform and more guns were mounted.[ ] de fontenay himself was the first to bear the official title of "governor for the king of tortuga and the coast of s. domingo." the new governor was not fated to enjoy his success for any length of time. the president of s. domingo, don juan francisco de montemayor, with orders from the king of spain, was preparing for another effort to get rid of his troublesome neighbour, and in november sent an expedition of five vessels and infantry against the french, under command of don gabriel roxas de valle-figueroa. the ships were separated by a storm, two ran aground and a third was lost, so that only the "capitana" and "almirante" reached tortuga on th january. being greeted with a rough fire from the platform and fort as they approached the harbour, they dropped anchor a league to leeward and landed with little opposition. after nine days of fighting and siege of the fort, de fontenay capitulated with the honours of war.[ ] according to the french account, the spaniards, lashing their cannon to rough frames of wood, dragged a battery of eight or ten guns to the top of some hills commanding the fort, and began a furious bombardment. several sorties of the besieged to capture the battery were unsuccessful. the inhabitants began to tire of fighting, and de fontenay, discovering some secret negotiations with the enemy, was compelled to sue for terms. with incredible exertions, two half-scuttled ships in the harbour were fitted up and provisioned within three days, and upon them the french sailed for port margot.[ ] the spaniards claimed that the booty would have been considerable but for some dutch trading-ships in the harbour which conveyed all the valuables from the island. they burned the settlements, however, carried away with them some guns, munitions of war and slaves, and this time taking the precaution to leave behind a garrison of men, sailed for hispaniola. fearing that the french might join forces with the buccaneers and attack their small squadron on the way back, they retained de fontenay's brother as a hostage until they reached the city of san domingo. de fontenay, indeed, after his brother's release, did determine to try and recover the island. only of his men stood by him, the rest deserting to join the buccaneers in western hispaniola. while he was careening his ship at port margot, however, a dutch trader arrived with commodities for tortuga, and learning of the disaster, offered him aid with men and supplies. a descent was made upon the smaller island, and the spaniards were besieged for twenty days, but after several encounters they compelled the french to withdraw. de fontenay, with only thirty companions, sailed for europe, was wrecked among the azores, and eventually reached france, only to die a short time afterwards. footnotes: [footnote : bibl. nat., nouv. acq., , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , p. . this company had been organised under the name of "the governor and company of adventurers for the plantations of the islands of providence, henrietta and the adjacent islands, between and degrees of north latitude and and degrees of longitude." the patent of incorporation is dated th december (_ibid._, p. ).] [footnote : ibid., p. .] [footnote : ibid.] [footnote : this identity was first pointed out by pierre de vaissière in his recent book: "saint domingue ( - ). la societé et la vie créoles sous l'ancien régime," paris, , p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , pp. - .] [footnote : ibid., pp. , .] [footnote : this was probably the same man as the "don juan de morfa geraldino" who was admiral of the fleet which attacked tortuga in . _cf._ duro, _op. cit._, v. p. .] [footnote : in rui fernandez de fuemayor was governor and captain-general of the province of venezuela. _cf._ doro, _op. cit._, iv. p. ; note .] [footnote : brit. mus., add. mss., , , f. . according to the minutes of the providence company, a certain mr. perry, newly arrived from association, gave information on th march that the island had been surprised by the spaniards (c.s.p. colon., - , p. ). this news was confirmed by a mrs. filby at another meeting of the company on th april, when capt. wormeley, "by reason of his cowardice and negligence in losing the island," was formally deprived of his office as governor and banished from the colony (_ibid._, p. ).] [footnote : brit. mus., add. mss., , , pp. - .] [footnote : ibid., pp. - , .] [footnote : ibid., pp. , , - , .] [footnote : charlevoix: histoire de. ... saint domingue, liv. vii. pp. - . the story is repeated by duro (_op. cit._, v. p. ), who says that the spaniards were led by "el general d. carlos ibarra."] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. vii. p. ; bibl. nat. nouv. acq., , p. _ff._] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. vii. pp. - ; vaissière., _op. cit._, appendix i ("mémoire envoyé aux seigneurs de la compagnie des isles de l'amérique par m. de poincy, le novembre "). according to the records of the providence company, tortuga in had inhabitants. a captain fload, who had been governor, was then in london to clear himself of charges preferred against him by the planters, while a captain james was exercising authority as "president" in the island. (c.s.p. colon., - . pp. , .) fload was probably the "english captain" referred to in de poincy's memoir. his oppressive rule seems to have been felt as well by the english as by the french.] [footnote : dutertre: histoire générale des antilles, tom. i. p. .] [footnote : charlevoix: _op. cit._, liv. vii. pp. - .] [footnote : in this monograph, by "buccaneers" are always meant the corsairs and filibusters, and not the cattle and hog killers of hispaniola and tortuga.] [footnote : labat: nouveau voyage aux isles de l'amerique, _ed._ , tom. vii. p. .] [footnote : le pers, printed in margry, _op. cit._] [footnote : le pers, printed in margry, _op. cit._] [footnote : dampier writes that "privateers are not obliged to any ship, but free to go ashore where they please, or to go into any other ship that will entertain them, only paying for their provision." (edition , i. p. ).] [footnote : labat, _op. cit._, tom. i. ch. .] [footnote : labat, _op. cit._, tom. vii. ch. .] [footnote : ibid., tom. ii. ch. .] [footnote : gibbs: british honduras, p. .] [footnote : a spaniard, writing from s. domingo in , complains of an english buccaneer settlement at samana (on the north coast of hispaniola, near the mona passage), where they grew tobacco, and preyed on the ships sailing from cartagena and s. domingo for spain. (add. mss., , , f. .)] [footnote : a piece of eight was worth in jamaica from s. d. to s.] [footnote : exquemelin, _ed._ , part i. pp. - .] [footnote : dutertre, _op. cit._, tom. i. ch. vi.] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. vii. p. .] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. vii. pp. - .] [footnote : according to a spanish ms., there were in tortuga in french inhabitants, more than negroes, and indians with their wives and children. the negroes and indians were all slaves; the former seized on the coasts of havana and cartagena, the latter brought over from yucatan. in the harbour the platform had fourteen cannon, and in the fort above were forty-six cannon, many of them of bronze (add. mss., , , f. _ff._). the report of the amount of ordnance is doubtless an exaggeration.] [footnote : add. mss., , , f. .] [footnote : according to dutertre, one vessel was commanded by the assassins, martin and thibault, and contained the women and children. the latter, when provisions ran low, were marooned on one of the caymans, north-west of jamaica, where they would have perished had not a dutch ship found and rescued them. martin and thibault were never heard of again.] chapter iii the conquest of jamaica the capture of jamaica by the expedition sent out by cromwell in was the blundering beginning of a new era in west indian history. it was the first permanent annexation by another european power of an integral part of spanish america. before the island had already been twice visited by english forces. the first occasion was in january , when sir anthony shirley, with little opposition, took and plundered st. jago de la vega. the second was in , when william jackson repeated the same exploit with men from the windward islands. cromwell's expedition, consisting of men and a considerable fleet, set sail from england in december , with the secret object of "gaining an interest" in that part of the west indies in possession of the spaniards. admiral penn commanded the fleet, and general venables the land forces.[ ] the expedition reached barbadoes at the end of january, where some additional troops were raised, besides about from nevis, st. kitts, and neighbouring islands. the commanders having resolved to direct their first attempt against hispaniola, on th april a landing was effected at a point to the west of san domingo, and the army, suffering terribly from a tropical sun and lack of water, marched thirty miles through woods and savannahs to attack the city. the english received two shameful defeats from a handful of spaniards on th and th april, and general venables, complaining loudly of the cowardice of his men and of admiral penn's failure to co-operate with him, finally gave up the attempt and sailed for jamaica. on th may, in the splendid harbour on which kingston now stands, the english fleet dropped anchor. three small forts on the western side were battered by the guns from the ships, and as soon as the troops began to land the garrisons evacuated their posts. st. jago, six miles inland, was occupied next day. the terms offered by venables to the spaniards (the same as those exacted from the english settlers on providence island in --emigration within ten days on pain of death, and forfeiture of all their property) were accepted on the th; but the spaniards were soon discovered to have entered into negotiations merely to gain time and retire with their families and goods to the woods and mountains, whence they continued their resistance. meanwhile the army, wretchedly equipped with provisions and other necessities, was decimated by sickness. on the th two long-expected store-ships arrived, but the supplies brought by them were limited, and an appeal for assistance was sent to new england. admiral penn, disgusted with the fiasco in hispaniola and on bad terms with venables, sailed for england with part of his fleet on th june; and venables, so ill that his life was despaired of, and also anxious to clear himself of the responsibility for the initial failure of the expedition, followed in the "marston moor" nine days later. on th september both commanders appeared before the council of state to answer the charge of having deserted their posts, and together they shared the disgrace of a month in the tower.[ ] the army of general venables was composed of very inferior and undisciplined troops, mostly the rejected of english regiments or the offscourings of the west indian colonies; yet the chief reasons for the miscarriage before san domingo were the failure of venables to command the confidence of his officers and men, his inexcusable errors in the management of the attack, and the lack of cordial co-operation between him and the admiral. the difficulties with which he had to struggle were, of course, very great. on the other hand, he seems to have been deficient both in strength of character and in military capacity; and his ill-health made still more difficult a task for which he was fundamentally incompetent. the comparative failure of this, cromwell's pet enterprise, was a bitter blow to the protector. for a whole day he shut himself up in his room, brooding over the disaster for which he, more than any other, was responsible. he had aimed not merely to plant one more colony in america, but to make himself master of such parts of the west indian islands and spanish main as would enable him to dominate the route of the spanish-american treasure fleets. to this end jamaica contributed few advantages beyond those possessed by barbadoes and st. kitts, and it was too early for him to realize that island for island jamaica was much more suitable than hispaniola as the seat of an english colony.[ ] religious and economic motives form the key to cromwell's foreign policy, and it is difficult to discover which, the religious or the economic, was uppermost in his mind when he planned this expedition. he inherited from the puritans of elizabeth's time the traditional religious hatred of spain as the bulwark of rome, and in his mind as in theirs the overthrow of the spaniards in the west indies was a blow at antichrist and an extension of the true religion. the religious ends of the expedition were fully impressed upon venables and his successors in jamaica.[ ] second only, however, to oliver's desire to protect "the people of god," was his ambition to extend england's empire beyond the seas. he desired the unquestioned supremacy of england over the other nations of europe, and that supremacy, as he probably foresaw, was to be commercial and colonial. since the discovery of america the world's commerce had enormously increased, and its control brought with it national power. america had become the treasure-house of europe. if england was to be set at the head of the world's commerce and navigation, she must break through spain's monopoly of the indies and gain a control in spanish america. san domingo was to be but a preliminary step, after which the rest of the spanish dominions in the new world would be gradually absorbed.[ ] the immediate excuse for the attack on hispaniola and jamaica was the spaniards' practice of seizing english ships and ill-treating english crews merely because they were found in some part of the caribbean sea, and even though bound for a plantation actually in possession of english colonists. it was the old question of effective occupation _versus_ papal donation, and both cromwell and venables convinced themselves that spanish assaults in the past on english ships and colonies supplied a sufficient _casus belli_.[ ] there was no justification, however, for a secret attack upon spain. she had been the first to recognize the young republic, and was willing and even anxious to league herself with england. there had been actual negotiations for an alliance, and cromwell's offers, though rejected, had never been really withdrawn. without a declaration of war or formal notice of any sort, a fleet was fitted out and sent in utmost secrecy to fall unawares upon the colonies of a friendly nation. the whole aspect of the exploit was elizabethan. it was inspired by drake and raleigh, a reversion to the elizabethan gold-hunt. it was the first of the great buccaneering expeditions.[ ] cromwell was doubtless influenced, too, by the representations of thomas gage. gage was an englishman who had joined the dominicans and had been sent by his order out to spanish america. in he returned to england, announced his conversion to protestantism, took the side of parliament and became a minister. his experiences in the west indies and mexico he published in under the name of "the english-american, or a new survey of the west indies," a most entertaining book, which aimed to arouse englishmen against romish "idolatries," to show how valuable the spanish-american provinces might be to england in trade and bullion and how easily they might be seized. in the summer of , moreover, gage had laid before the protector a memorial in which he recapitulated the conclusions of his book, assuring cromwell that the spanish colonies were sparsely peopled and that the few whites were unwarlike and scantily provided with arms and ammunition. he asserted that the conquest of hispaniola and cuba would be a matter of no difficulty, and that even central america was too weak to oppose a long resistance.[ ] all this was true, and had cromwell but sent a respectable force under an efficient leader the result would have been different. the exploits of the buccaneers a few years later proved it. it was fortunate, considering the distracted state of affairs in jamaica in - , that the spaniards were in no condition to attempt to regain the island. cuba, the nearest spanish territory to jamaica, was being ravaged by the most terrible pestilence known there in years, and the inhabitants, alarmed for their own safety, instead of trying to dispossess the english, were busy providing for the defence of their own coasts.[ ] in , however, some troops under command of the old spanish governor of jamaica, d. christopher sasi arnoldo, crossed from st. jago de cuba and entrenched themselves on the northern shore as the advance post of a greater force expected from the mainland. papers of instructions relating to the enterprise were intercepted by colonel doyley, then acting-governor of jamaica; and he with picked men embarked for the north side, attacked the spaniards in their entrenchments and utterly routed them.[ ] the next year about men, the long-expected corps of regular spanish infantry, landed and erected a fort at rio nuevo. doyley, displaying the same energy, set out again on th june with men, landed under fire on the nd, and next day captured the fort in a brilliant attack in which about spaniards were killed and more, with many officers and flags, captured. the english lost about sixty in killed and wounded.[ ] after the failure of a similar, though weaker, attempt in , the spaniards despaired of regaining jamaica, and most of those still upon the island embraced the first opportunity to retire to cuba and other spanish settlements. as colonists the troops in jamaica proved to be very discouraging material, and the army was soon in a wretched state. the officers and soldiers plundered and mutinied instead of working and planting. their wastefulness led to scarcity of food, and scarcity of food brought disease and death.[ ] they wished to force the protector to recall them, or to employ them in assaulting the opulent spanish towns on the main, an occupation far more lucrative than that of planting corn and provisions for sustenance. cromwell, however, set himself to develop and strengthen his new colony. he issued a proclamation encouraging trade and settlement in the island by exempting the inhabitants from taxes, and the council voted that young men and an equal number of girls be shipped over from ireland. the scotch government was instructed to apprehend and transport idlers and vagabonds, and commissioners were sent into new england and to the windward and leeward islands to try and attract settlers.[ ] bermudians, jews, quakers from barbadoes and criminals from newgate, helped to swell the population of the new colony, and in the island is said to have contained whites, besides or more negro slaves.[ ] to dominate the spanish trade routes was one of the principal objects of english policy in the west indies. this purpose is reflected in all of cromwell's instructions to the leaders of the jamaican design, and it appears again in his instructions of th october to major-general fortescue and vice-admiral goodson. fortescue was given power and authority to land men upon territory claimed by the spaniards, to take their forts, castles and places of strength, and to pursue, kill and destroy all who opposed him. the vice-admiral was to assist him with his sea-forces, and to use his best endeavours to seize all ships belonging to the king of spain or his subjects in america.[ ] the soldiers, as has been said, were more eager to fight the spaniards than to plant, and opportunities were soon given them to try their hand. admiral penn had left twelve ships under goodson's charge, and of these, six were at sea picking up a few scattered spanish prizes which helped to pay for the victuals supplied out of new england.[ ] goodson, however, was after larger prey, no less than the galleons or a spanish town upon the mainland. he did not know where the galleons were, but at the end of july he seems to have been lying with eight vessels before cartagena and porto bello, and on nd november he sent captain blake with nine ships to the same coast to intercept all vessels going thither from spain or elsewhere. the fleet was broken up by foul weather, however, and part returned on th december to refit, leaving a few small frigates to lie in wait for some merchantmen reported to be in that region.[ ] the first town on the main to feel the presence of this new power in the indies was santa marta, close to cartagena on the shores of what is now the u.s. of columbia. in the latter part of october, just a month before the departure of blake, goodson sailed with a fleet of eight vessels to ravage the spanish coasts. according to one account his original design had been against rio de la hacha near the pearl fisheries, "but having missed his aim" he sailed for santa marta. he landed sailors and soldiers under the protection of his guns, took and demolished the two forts which barred his way, and entered the town. finding that the inhabitants had already fled with as much of their belongings as they could carry, he pursued them some twelve miles up into the country; and on his return plundered and burnt their houses, embarked with thirty pieces of cannon and other booty, and sailed for jamaica.[ ] it was a gallant performance with a handful of men, but the profits were much less than had been expected. it had been agreed that the seamen and soldiers should receive half the spoil, but on counting the proceeds it was found that their share amounted to no more than £ , to balance which the state took the thirty pieces of ordnance and some powder, shot, hides, salt and indian corn.[ ] sedgwick wrote to thurloe that "reckoning all got there on the state's share, it did not pay for the powder and shot spent in that service."[ ] sedgwick was one of the civil commissioners appointed for the government of jamaica. a brave, pious soldier with a long experience and honourable military record in the massachusetts colony, he did not approve of this type of warfare against the spaniards. "this kind of marooning cruising west india trade of plundering and burning towns," he writes, "though it hath been long practised in these parts, yet is not honourable for a princely navy, neither was it, i think, the work designed, though perhaps it may be tolerated at present." if cromwell was to accomplish his original purpose of blocking up the spanish treasure route, he wrote again, permanent foothold must be gained in some important spanish fortress, either cartagena or havana, places strongly garrisoned, however, and requiring for their reduction a considerable army and fleet, such as jamaica did not then possess. but to waste and burn towns of inferior rank without retaining them merely dragged on the war indefinitely and effected little advantage or profit to anybody.[ ] captain nuberry visited santa marta several weeks after goodson's descent, and, going on shore, found that about a hundred people had made bold to return and rebuild their devastated homes. upon sight of the english the poor people again fled incontinently to the woods, and nuberry and his men destroyed their houses a second time.[ ] on th april goodson, with ten of his best ships, set sail again and steered eastward along the coast of hispaniola as far as alta vela, hoping to meet with some spanish ships reported in that region. encountering none, he stood for the main, and landed on th may with about men at rio de la hacha. the story of the exploit is merely a repetition of what happened at santa marta. the people had sight of the english fleet six hours before it could drop anchor, and fled from the town to the hills and surrounding woods. only twelve men were left behind to hold the fort, which the english stormed and took within half an hour. four large brass cannon were carried to the ships and the fort partly demolished. the spaniards pretended to parley for the ransom of their town, but when after a day's delay they gave no sign of complying with the admiral's demands, he burned the place on th may and sailed away.[ ] goodson called again at santa marta on the th to get water, and on the th stood before cartagena to view the harbour. leaving three vessels to ply there, he returned to jamaica, bringing back with him only two small prizes, one laden with wine, the other with cocoa. the seamen of the fleet, however, were restless and eager for further enterprises of this nature, and goodson by the middle of june had fourteen of his vessels lying off the cuban coast near cape s. antonio in wait for the galleons or the flota, both of which fleets were then expected at havana. his ambition to repeat the achievement of piet heyn was fated never to be realised. the fleet of terra-firma, he soon learned, had sailed into havana on th may, and on th june, three days before his arrival on that coast, had departed for spain.[ ] meanwhile, one of his own vessels, the "arms of holland," was blown up, with the loss of all on board but three men and the captain, and two other ships were disabled. five of the fleet returned to england on rd august, and with the rest goodson remained on the cuban coast until the end of the month, watching in vain for the fleet from vera cruz which never sailed.[ ] colonel edward doyley, the officer who so promptly defeated the attempts of the spaniards in - to re-conquer jamaica, was now governor of the island. he had sailed with the expedition to the west indies as lieutenant-colonel in the regiment of general venables, and on the death of major-general fortescue in november had been chosen by cromwell's commissioners in jamaica as commander-in-chief of the land forces. in may he was superseded by robert sedgwick, but the latter died within a few days, and doyley petitioned the protector to appoint him to the post. william brayne, however, arrived from england in december to take chief command; and when he, like his two predecessors, was stricken down by disease nine months later, the place devolved permanently upon doyley. doyley was a very efficient governor, and although he has been accused of showing little regard or respect for planting and trade, the charge appears to be unjust.[ ] he firmly maintained order among men disheartened and averse to settlement, and at the end of his service delivered up the colony a comparatively well-ordered and thriving community. he was confirmed in his post by charles ii. at the restoration, but superseded by lord windsor in august . doyley's claim to distinction rests mainly upon his vigorous policy against the spaniards, not only in defending jamaica, but by encouraging privateers and carrying the war into the enemies' quarters. in july , on learning from some prisoners that the galleons were in porto bello awaiting the plate from panama, doyley embarked men on a fleet of five vessels and sent it to lie in an obscure bay between that port and cartagena to intercept the spanish ships. on th october the galleons were espied, twenty-nine vessels in all, fifteen galleons and fourteen stout merchantmen. unfortunately, all the english vessels except the "hector" and the "marston moor" were at that moment absent to obtain fresh water. those two alone could do nothing, but passing helplessly through the spaniards, hung on their rear and tried without success to scatter them. the english fleet later attacked and burnt the town of tolu on the main, capturing two spanish ships in the road; and afterwards paid another visit to the unfortunate santa marta, where they remained three days, marching several miles into the country and burning and destroying everything in their path.[ ] on rd april , however, there returned to port royal another expedition whose success realised the wildest dreams of avarice. three frigates under command of captain christopher myngs,[ ] with soldiers on board, had been sent by doyley to harry the south american coast. they first entered and destroyed cumana, and then ranging along the coast westward, landed again at puerto cabello and at coro. at the latter town they followed the inhabitants into the woods, where besides other plunder they came upon twenty-two chests of royal treasure intended for the king of spain, each chest containing pounds of silver.[ ] embarking this money and other spoil in the shape of plate, jewels and cocoa, they returned to port royal with the richest prize that ever entered jamaica. the whole pillage was estimated at between £ , and £ , .[ ] the abundance of new wealth introduced into jamaica did much to raise the spirits of the colonists, and set the island well upon the road to more prosperous times. the sequel to this brilliant exploit, however, was in some ways unfortunate. disputes were engendered between the officers of the expedition and the governor and other authorities on shore over the disposal of the booty, and in the early part of june captain myngs was sent home in the "marston moor," suspended for disobeying orders and plundering the hold of one of the prizes to the value of , pieces of eight. myngs was an active, intrepid commander, but apparently avaricious and impatient of control. he seems to have endeavoured to divert most of the prize money into the pockets of his officers and men, by disposing of the booty on his own initiative before giving a strict account of it to the governor or steward-general of the island. doyley writes that there was a constant market aboard the "marston moor," and that myngs and his officers, alleging it to be customary to break and plunder the holds, permitted the twenty-two chests of the king of spain's silver to be divided among the men without any provision whatever for the claims of the state.[ ] there was also some friction over the disposal of six dutch prizes which doyley had picked up for illegal trading at barbadoes on his way out from england. these, too, had been plundered before they reached jamaica, and when myngs found that there was no power in the colony to try and condemn ships taken by virtue of the navigation laws, it only added fuel to his dissatisfaction. when myngs reached england he lodged counter-complaints against governor doyley, burough, the steward-general, and vice-admiral goodson, alleging that they received more than their share of the prize money; and a war of mutual recrimination followed.[ ] amid the distractions of the restoration, however, little seems ever to have been made of the matter in england. the insubordination of officers in - was a constant source of difficulty and impediment to the governor in his efforts to establish peace and order in the colony. in england nobody was sure where the powers of government actually resided. as burough wrote from jamaica on th january , "we are here just like you at home; when we heard of the lord-protector's death we proclaimed his son, and when we heard of his being turned out we proclaimed a parliament and now own a committee of safety."[ ] the effect of this uncertainty was bound to be prejudicial in jamaica, a new colony filled with adventurers, for it loosened the reins of authority and encouraged lawless spirits to set the governor at defiance. on th may charles ii. was proclaimed king of england, and entered london on th may. the war which cromwell had begun with spain was essentially a war of the commonwealth. the spanish court was therefore on friendly terms with the exiled prince, and when he returned into possession of his kingdom a cessation of hostilities with spain naturally followed. charles wrote a note to don luis de haro on nd june , proposing an armistice in europe and america which was to lead to a permanent peace and a re-establishment of commercial relations between the two kingdoms.[ ] at the same time sir henry bennett, the english resident in madrid, made similar proposals to the spanish king. a favourable answer was received in july, and the cessation of arms, including a revival of the treaty of was proclaimed on th- th september . preliminary negotiations for a new treaty were entered upon at madrid, but the marriage of charles to catherine of braganza in , and the consequent alliance with portugal, with whom spain was then at war, put a damper upon all such designs. the armistice with spain was not published in jamaica until th february of the following year. on th february colonel doyley received from the governor of st. jago de cuba a letter enclosing an order from sir henry bennett for the cessation of arms, and this order doyley immediately made public.[ ] about thirty english prisoners were also returned by the spaniards with the letter. doyley was confirmed in his command of jamaica by charles ii., but his commission was not issued till th february .[ ] he was very desirous, however, of returning to england to look after his private affairs, and on nd august another commission was issued to lord windsor, appointing him as doyley's successor.[ ] just a year later, in august , windsor arrived at port royal, fortified with instructions "to endeavour to obtain and preserve a good correspondence and free commerce with the plantations belonging to the king of spain," even resorting to force if necessary.[ ] the question of english trade with the spanish colonies in the indies had first come to the surface in the negotiations for the treaty of , after the long wars between elizabeth and philip ii. the endeavour of the spaniards to obtain an explicit prohibition of commerce was met by the english demand for entire freedom. the spaniards protested that it had never been granted in former treaties or to other nations, or even without restriction to spanish subjects, and clamoured for at least a private article on the subject; but the english commissioners steadfastly refused, and offered to forbid trade only with ports actually under spanish authority. finally a compromise was reached in the words "in quibus ante bellum fuit commercium, juxta et secundum usum et observantiam."[ ] this article was renewed in cottington's treaty of . the spaniards themselves, indeed, in , were willing to concede a free navigation in the american seas, and even offered to recognise the english colony of virginia if charles i. would admit articles prohibiting trade and navigation in certain harbours and bays. cottington, however, was too far-sighted, and wrote to lord dorchester: "for my own part, i shall ever be far from advising his majesty to think of such restrictions, for certainly a little more time will open the navigation to those parts so long as there are no negative capitulations or articles to hinder it."[ ] the monopolistic pretensions of the spanish government were evidently relaxing, for in the conde de humanes confided to the english agent, taylor, that there had been talk in the council of the indies of admitting the english to a share in the freight of ships sent to the west indies, and even of granting them a limited permission to go to those regions on their own account. and in the conde de linhares, recently appointed governor of brazil, told the english ambassador, lord aston, that he was very anxious that english ships should do the carrying between lisbon and brazilian ports. the settlement of the windward and leeward islands and the conquest of jamaica had given a new impetus to contraband trade. the commercial nations were setting up shop, as it were, at the very doors of the spanish indies. the french and english antilles, condemned by the navigation laws to confine themselves to agriculture and a passive trade with the home country, had no recourse but to traffic with their spanish neighbours. factors of the assiento established at cartagena, porto bello and vera cruz every year supplied european merchants with detailed news of the nature and quantity of the goods which might be imported with advantage; while the buccaneers, by dominating the whole caribbean sea, hindered frequent communication between spain and her colonies. it is not surprising, therefore, that the commerce of seville, which had hitherto held its own, decreased with surprising rapidity, that the sailings of the galleons and the flota were separated by several years, and that the fairs of porto bello and vera cruz were almost deserted. to put an effective restraint, moreover, upon this contraband trade was impossible on either side. the west indian dependencies were situated far from the centre of authority, while the home governments generally had their hands too full of other matters to adequately control their subjects in america. the spanish viceroys, meanwhile, and the governors in the west indian islands, connived at a practice which lined their own pockets with the gold of bribery, and at the same time contributed to the public interest and prosperity of their respective colonies. it was this illicit commerce with spanish america which charles ii., by negotiation at madrid and by instructions to his governors in the west indies, tried to get within his own control. at the spanish court, fanshaw, sandwich and godolphin in turn were instructed to sue for a free trade with the colonies. the assiento of negroes was at this time held by two genoese named grillo and lomelin, and with them the english ambassadors several times entered into negotiation for the privilege of supplying blacks from the english islands. by the treaty of the english colonies in america were for the first time formally recognised by the spanish crown. freedom of commerce, however, was as far as ever from realisation, and after this date charles seems to have given up hope of ever obtaining it through diplomatic channels. the peace of between england and spain was supposed to extend to both sides of the "line." the council in jamaica, however, were of the opinion that it applied only to europe,[ ] and from the tenor of lord windsor's instructions it may be inferred that the english court at that time meant to interpret it with the same limitations. windsor, indeed, was not only instructed to force the spanish colonies to a free trade, but was empowered to call upon the governor of barbadoes for aid "in case of any considerable attempt by the spaniards against jamaica."[ ] the efforts of the governor, however, to come to a good correspondence with the spanish colonies were fruitless. in the minutes of the council of jamaica of th august , we read: "resolved that the letters from the governors of porto rico and san domingo are an absolute denial of trade, and that according to his majesty's instructions to lord windsor a trade by force or otherwise be endeavoured;"[ ] and under th september we find another resolution "that men be enlisted for a design by sea with the 'centurion' and other vessels."[ ] this "design" was an expedition to capture and destroy st. jago de cuba, the spanish port nearest to jamaican shores. an attack upon st. jago had been projected by goodson as far back as . "the admiral," wrote major sedgwick to thurloe just after his arrival in jamaica, "was intended before our coming in to have taken some few soldiers and gone over to st. jago de cuba, a town upon cuba, but our coming hindered him without whom we could not well tell how to do anything."[ ] in january the plan was definitely abandoned, because the colony could not spare a sufficient number of soldiers for the enterprise.[ ] it was to st. jago that the spaniards, driven from jamaica, mostly betook themselves, and from st. jago as a starting-point had come the expedition of to reconquer the island. the instructions of lord windsor afforded a convenient opportunity to avenge past attacks and secure jamaica from molestation in that quarter for the future. the command of the expedition was entrusted to myngs, who in was again in the indies on the frigate "centurion." myngs sailed from port royal on st september with eleven ships and men,[ ] but, kept back by unfavourable winds, did not sight the castle of st. jago until th october. although he had intended to force the entrance of the harbour, he was prevented by the prevailing land breeze; so he disembarked his men to windward, on a rocky coast, where the path up the bluffs was so narrow that but one man could march at a time. night had fallen before all were landed, and "the way (was) soe difficult and the night soe dark that they were forced to make stands and fires, and their guides with brands in their hands, to beat the path."[ ] at daybreak they reached a plantation by a river's side, some six miles from the place of landing and three from st. jago. there they refreshed themselves, and advancing upon the town surprised the enemy, who knew of the late landing and the badness of the way and did not expect them so soon. they found spaniards at the entrance to the town, drawn up under their governor, don pedro de moralis, and supported by don christopher de sasi arnoldo, the former spanish governor of jamaica, with a reserve of more. the spaniards fled before the first charge of the jamaicans, and the place was easily mastered. the next day parties were despatched into the country to pursue the enemy, and orders sent to the fleet to attack the forts at the mouth of the harbour. this was successfully done, the spaniards deserting the great castle after firing but two muskets. between scouring the country for hidden riches, most of which had been carried far inland beyond their reach, and dismantling and demolishing the forts, the english forces occupied their time until october th. thirty-four guns were found in the fortifications and barrels of powder. some of the guns were carried to the ships and the rest flung over the precipice into the sea; while the powder was used to blow up the castle and the neighbouring country houses.[ ] the expedition returned to jamaica on nd october.[ ] only six men had been killed by the spaniards, twenty more being lost by other "accidents." of these twenty some must have been captured by the enemy, for when sir richard fanshaw was appointed ambassador to spain in january , he was instructed among other things to negotiate for an exchange of prisoners taken in the indies. in july we find him treating for the release of captain myngs' men from the prisons of seville and cadiz,[ ] and on th november an order to this effect was obtained from the king of spain.[ ] the instructions of lord windsor gave him leave, as soon as he had settled the government in jamaica, to appoint a deputy and return to england to confer with the king on colonial affairs. windsor sailed for england on th october, and on the same day sir charles lyttleton's commission as deputy-governor was read in the jamaican council.[ ] during his short sojourn of three months the governor had made considerable progress toward establishing an ordered constitution in the island. he disbanded the old army, and reorganised the military under a stricter discipline and better officers. he systematised legal procedure and the rules for the conveyance of property. he erected an admiralty court at port royal, and above all, probably in pursuance of the recommendation of colonel doyley,[ ] had called in all the privateering commissions issued by previous governors, and tried to submit the captains to orderly rules by giving them new commissions, with instructions to bring their spanish prizes to jamaica for judicature.[ ] the departure of windsor did not put a stop to the efforts of the jamaicans to "force a trade" with the spanish plantations, and we find the council, on th december , passing a motion that to this end an attempt should be made to leeward on the coasts of cuba, honduras and the gulf of campeache. on th and th january between and soldiers, many of them doubtless buccaneers, were embarked on a fleet of twelve ships and sailed two days later under command of the redoubtable myngs. about ninety leagues this side of campeache the fleet ran into a great storm, in which one of the vessels foundered and three others were separated from their fellows. the english reached the coast of campeache, however, in the early morning of friday, th february, and landing a league and a half from the town, marched without being seen along an indian path with "such speed and good fortune" that by ten o'clock in the morning they were already masters of the city and of all the forts save one, the castle of santa cruz. at the second fort myngs was wounded by a gun in three places. the town itself, myngs reported, might have been defended like a fortress, for the houses were contiguous and strongly built of stone with flat roofs.[ ] the forts were partly demolished, a portion of the town was destroyed by fire, and the fourteen sail lying in the harbour were seized by the invaders. altogether the booty must have been considerable. the spanish licentiate, maldonado de aldana, placed it at , pieces of eight,[ ] and the general damage to the city in the destruction of houses and munitions by the enemy, and in the expenditure of treasure for purposes of defence, at half a million more. myngs and his fleet sailed away on rd february, but the "centurion" did not reach port royal until th april, and the rest of the fleet followed a few days later. the number of casualties on each side was surprisingly small. the invaders lost only thirty men killed, and the spaniards between fifty and sixty, but among the latter were the two alcaldes and many other officers and prominent citizens of the town.[ ] to satisfactorily explain at madrid these two presumptuous assaults upon spanish territory in america was an embarrassing problem for the english government, especially as myngs' men imprisoned at seville and cadiz were said to have produced commissions to justify their actions.[ ] the spanish king instructed his resident in london to demand whether charles accepted responsibility for the attack upon st. jago, and the proceedings of english cases in the spanish courts arising from the depredations of galician corsairs were indefinitely suspended.[ ] when, however, there followed upon this, in may , the news of the sack and burning of campeache, it stirred up the greatest excitement in madrid.[ ] orders and, what was rarer in spain, money were immediately sent to cadiz to the duke of albuquerque to hasten the work on the royal armada for despatch to the indies; and efforts were made to resuscitate the defunct armada de barlovento, a small fleet which had formerly been used to catch interlopers and protect the coasts of terra-firma. in one way the capture of campeache had touched spain in her most vulnerable spot. the mexican flota, which was scheduled to sail from havana in june , refused to stir from its retreat at vera cruz until the galleons from porto bello came to convoy it. the arrival of the american treasure in spain was thus delayed for two months, and the bankrupt government put to sore straits for money. the activity of the spaniards, however, was merely a blind to hide their own impotence, and their clamours were eventually satisfied by the king of england's writing to deputy-governor lyttleton a letter forbidding all such undertakings for the future. the text of the letter is as follows: "understanding with what jealousy and offence the spaniards look upon our island of jamaica, and how disposed they are to make some attempt upon it, and knowing how disabled it will remain in its own defence if encouragement be given to such undertakings as have lately been set on foot, and are yet pursued, and which divert the inhabitants from that industry which alone can render the island considerable, the king signifies his dislike of all such undertakings, and commands that no such be pursued for the future, but that they unitedly apply themselves to the improvement of the plantation and keeping the force in proper condition."[ ] the original draft of the letter was much milder in tone, and betrays the real attitude of charles ii. toward these half-piratical enterprises: "his majesty has heard of the success of the undertaking upon cuba, in which he cannot choose but please himself in the vigour and resolution wherein it was performed ... but because his majesty cannot foresee any utility likely to arise thereby ... he has thought fit hereby to command him to give no encouragement to such undertakings unless they may be performed by the frigates or men-of-war attending that place without any addition from the soldiers or inhabitants."[ ] other letters were subsequently sent to jamaica, which made it clear that the war of the privateers was not intended to be called off by the king's instructions; and sir charles lyttleton, therefore, did not recall their commissions. nevertheless, in the early part of , the assembly in jamaica passed an act prohibiting public levies of men upon foreign designs, and forbidding any person to leave the island on any such design without first obtaining leave from the governor, council and assembly.[ ] when the instructions of the authorities at home were so ambiguous, and the incentives to corsairing so alluring, it was natural that this game of baiting the spaniards should suffer little interruption. english freebooters who had formerly made hispaniola and tortuga their headquarters now resorted to jamaica, where they found a cordial welcome and a better market for their plunder. thus in june a certain captain barnard sailed from port royal to the orinoco, took and plundered the town of santo tomas and returned in the following march.[ ] on th october another privateer named captain cooper brought into port royal two spanish prizes, the larger of which, the "maria" of seville, was a royal azogue and carried quintals of quicksilver for the king of spain's mines in mexico, besides oil, wine and olives.[ ] cooper in his fight with the smaller vessel so disabled his own ship that he was forced to abandon it and enter the prize; and it was while cruising off hispaniola in this prize that he fell in with the "maria," and captured her after a four hours' combat. there were seventy prisoners, among them a number of friars going to campeache and vera cruz. some of the prize goods were carried to england, and don patricio moledi, the spanish resident in london, importuned the english government for its restoration.[ ] sir charles lyttleton had sailed for england on nd may , leaving the government of jamaica in the hands of the council with colonel thomas lynch as president;[ ] and on his arrival in england he made formal answer to the complaints of moledi. his excuse was that captain cooper's commission had been derived not from the deputy-governor himself but from lord windsor; and that the deputy-governor had never received any order from the king for recalling commissions, or for the cessation of hostilities against the spaniards.[ ] lyttleton and the english government were evidently attempting the rather difficult circus feat of riding two mounts at the same time. the instructions from england, as lyttleton himself acknowledged in his letter of th october , distinctly forbade further hostilities against the spanish plantations; on the other hand, there were no specific orders that privateers should be recalled. lyttleton was from first to last in sympathy with the freebooters, and probably believed with many others of his time that "the spaniard is most pliable when best beaten." in august he presented to the lord chancellor his reasons for advocating a continuance of the privateers in jamaica. they are sufficiently interesting to merit a _résumé_ of the principal points advanced. st. privateering maintained a great number of seamen by whom the island was protected without the immediate necessity of a naval force. nd. if privateering were forbidden, the king would lose many men who, in case of a war in the west indies, would be of incalculable service, being acquainted, as they were, with the coasts, shoals, currents, winds, etc., of the spanish dominions. rd. without the privateers, the jamaicans would have no intelligence of spanish designs against them, or of the size or neighbourhood of their fleets, or of the strength of their resources. th. if prize-goods were no longer brought into port royal, few merchants would resort to jamaica and prices would become excessively high. th. to reduce the privateers would require a large number of frigates at considerable trouble and expense; english seamen, moreover, generally had the privateering spirit and would be more ready to join with them than oppose them, as previous experience had shown. finally, the privateers, if denied the freedom of jamaican ports, would not take to planting, but would resort to the islands of other nations, and perhaps prey upon english commerce.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : venables was not bound by his instructions to any definite plan. it had been proposed, he was told, to seize hispaniola or porto rico or both, after which either cartagena or havana might be taken, and the spanish revenue-fleets obstructed. an alternative scheme was to make the first attempt on the mainland at some point between the mouth of the orinoco and porto bello, with the ultimate object of securing cartagena. it was left to venables, however, to consult with admiral penn and three commissioners, edward winslow (former governor of plymouth colony in new england), daniel searle (governor of barbadoes), and gregory butler, as to which, if any, of these schemes should be carried out. not until some time after the arrival of the fleet at barbadoes was it resolved to attack hispaniola. (narrative of gen. venables, edition , pp. x, - .)] [footnote : gardiner: hist. of the commonwealth and protectorate, vol. iii. ch. xlv.; narrative of gen. venables.] [footnote : gardiner: _op. cit._, iii. p. .] [footnote : _cf._ the "commission of the commissioners for the west indian expedition." (narrative of gen. venables, p. .)] [footnote : _cf._ american hist. review, vol. iv. p. ; "instructions unto gen. robt. venables." (narrative of gen. venables, p. .)] [footnote : _cf._ narrative of gen. venables, pp. , ; "instructions unto generall penn," etc., _ibid._, p. . after the outbreak of the spanish war, cromwell was anxious to clear his government of the charges of treachery and violation of international duties. the task was entrusted to the latin secretary, john milton, who on th october published a manifesto defending the actions of the commonwealth. he gave two principal reasons for the attempt upon the west indies:--( ) the cruelties of the spaniards toward the english in america and their depredations on english colonies and trade; ( ) the outrageous treatment and extermination of the indians. he denied the spanish claims to all of america, either as a papal gift, or by right of discovery alone, or even by right of settlement, and insisted upon both the natural and treaty rights of englishmen to trade in spanish seas.] [footnote : the memory of the exploits of drake and his contemporaries was not allowed to die in the first half of the seventeenth century. books like "sir francis drake revived," and "the world encompassed by sir francis drake," were printed time and time again. the former was published in and again two years later; "the world encompassed" first appeared in and was reprinted in and . a quotation from the title-page of the latter may serve to illustrate the temper of the times:-- drake, sir francis. the world encompassed. being his next voyage to that to nombre de dios, formerly imprinted ... offered ... especially for the stirring up of heroick spirits, to benefit their country and eternize their names by like bold attempts. lon. . _cf._ also gardiner, _op. cit._, iii. pp. - .] [footnote : gardiner, _op. cit._, iii. p. ; _cf._ also "present state of jamaica, ."] [footnote : long: "history of jamaica," i. p. ; c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, no. .] [footnote : long, _op. cit._, i. p. _ff._] [footnote : ibid.; thurloe papers, vi. p. ; vii. p. ; "present state of jamaica, "; c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, nos. - .] [footnote : long, _op. cit._, i. p. ; c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, nos. , , , etc. the conditions in jamaica directly after its capture are in remarkable contrast to what might have been expected after reading the enthusiastic descriptions of the island, its climate, soil and products, left us by englishmen who visited it. jackson in compared it with the arcadian plains and thessalien tempe, and many of his men wanted to remain and live with the spaniards. see also the description of jamaica contained in the rawlinson mss. and written just after the arrival of the english army:--"as for the country ... more than this." (narrative of gen. venables, pp. - .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, nos. , ; lucas: historical geography of the british colonies, ii. p. , and note.] [footnote : lucas, _op. cit._, ii. p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, nos. , . fortescue was gen. venables' successor in jamaica.] [footnote : ibid., no. ; long, _op. cit._, i. p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, nos. , ; thurloe papers, iv. pp. , .] [footnote : thurloe papers, iv. pp. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - . addenda, no. .] [footnote : thurloe papers, iv. p. .] [footnote : ibid., pp. - , .] [footnote : thurloe papers, iv. p. .] [footnote : ibid., v. pp. , .] [footnote : this was the treasure fleet which captain stayner's ship and two other frigates captured off cadiz on th september. six galleons were captured, sunk or burnt, with no less than £ , of gold and silver. the galleons which blake burnt in the harbour of santa cruz, on th april , were doubtless the mexican fleet for which admiral goodson vainly waited before havana in the previous summer.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , addenda, nos. , , , , ; thurloe papers, v. p. .] [footnote : _cf._ brit. mus., add. mss., , : journal of col. beeston. col. beeston seems to have harboured a peculiar spite against doyley. for the contrary view of doyley, _cf._ long, _op. cit._, i. p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - . addenda., nos. , . in these letters the towns are called "tralo" and "st. mark." _cf._ also thurloe papers, vii. p. .] [footnote : captain christopher myngs had been appointed to the "marston moor," a frigate of fifty-four guns, in october , and had seen two years' service in the west indies under goodson in and . in may he took part in the sack of rio de la hacha. in july the "marston moor" returned to england and was ordered to be refitted, but by th february myngs and his frigate were again at port royal (c.s.p. colon., - , addenda, nos. , ). after admiral goodson's return to england (ibid., no. ) myngs seems to have been the chief naval officer in the west indies, and greatly distinguished himself in his naval actions against the spaniards.] [footnote : tanner mss., li. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , addenda, nos. , . some figures put it as high as £ , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , addenda, nos. , . captain wm. dalyson wrote home, on rd january / , that he verily believed if the general (doyley) were at home to answer for himself, captain myngs would be found no better than he is, a proud-speaking vain fool, and a knave in cheating the state and robbing merchants. ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , addenda, no. .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , . in lord windsor's original instructions of st march he was empowered to search ships suspected of trading with the spaniards and to adjudicate the same in the admiralty court. a fortnight later, however, the king and council seem to have completely changed their point of view, and this too in spite of the navigation laws which prohibited the colonies from trading with any but the mother-country.] [footnote : art. ix. of the treaty. _cf._ dumont: corps diplomatique, t.v., pt. ii. p. . _cf._ also c.s.p. venetian, , p. :--"i wished to hear from his majesty's own lips" (wrote the venetian ambassador in november ), "how he read the clause about the india navigation, and i said, 'sire, your subjects may trade with spain and flanders but not with the indies.' 'why not?' said the king. 'because,' i replied, 'the clause is read in that sense.' 'they are making a great error, whoever they are that hold this view,' said his majesty; 'the meaning is quite clear.'"] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : thurloe papers, iv. p. .] [footnote : thurloe papers, iv. p. .] [footnote : beeston's journal.] [footnote : calendar of the heathcote mss. (pr. by hist. mss. commiss.), p. .] [footnote : calendar of the heathcote mss., p. . _cf._ also c.s.p. colon., - , no. :--"an act for the sale of five copper guns taken at st. jago de cuba."] [footnote : beeston's journal.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. .] [footnote : ibid., vol. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : brit. mus., add. mss., , , f. .] [footnote : ibid., f. .] [footnote : dampier also says of campeache that "it makes a fine show, being built all with good stone ... the roofs flattish after the spanish fashion, and covered with pantile."--_ed._ , ii. p. .] [footnote : however, the writer of the "present state of jamaica" says (p. ) that myngs got no great plunder, neither at campeache nor at st. jago.] [footnote : beeston's journal; brit. mus., add. mss., , , f. :--"original letter from the licentiate maldonado de aldana to don francisco calderon y romero, giving him an account of the taking of campeache in "; dated campeache, march . according to the spanish relation there were fourteen vessels in the english fleet, one large ship of forty-four guns (the "centurion"?) and thirteen smaller ones. the discrepancy in the numbers of the fleet may be explained by the probability that other jamaican privateering vessels joined it after its departure from port royal. beeston writes in his journal that the privateer "blessing," captain mitchell, commander, brought news on th february that the spaniards in campeache had notice from st. jago of the english design and made elaborate preparations for the defence of the town. this is contradicted by the spanish report, in which it appears that the authorities in campeache had been culpably negligent in not maintaining the defences with men, powder or provisions.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. . fanshaw to sec. bennet, th- rd july .] [footnote : ibid., vol. . letter of consul rumbold, st march .] [footnote : ibid., th may .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. . dated th april .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : rawlinson mss., a. , f. .] [footnote : beeston's journal.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; beeston's journal.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , ff. , , , , , , (april-august ).] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] chapter iv tortuga-- - when the chevalier de fontenay was driven from tortuga in january , the spaniards left a small garrison to occupy the fort and prevent further settlements of french and english buccaneers. these troops possessed the island for about eighteen months, but on the approach of the expedition under penn and venables were ordered by the conde de penalva, president of s. domingo, to demolish the fort, bury the artillery and other arms, and retire to his aid in hispaniola.[ ] some six months later an englishman, elias watts,[ ] with his family and ten or twelve others, came from jamaica in a shallop, re-settled the island, and raised a battery of four guns upon the ruins of the larger fort previously erected by the french. watts received a commission for the island from general brayne, who was then governor of jamaica, and in a short time gathered about him a colony of about , both english and french. among these new-comers was a "poor distressed gentleman" by the name of james arundell, formerly a colonel in the royalist army and now banished from england, who eventually married watts' daughter and became the head of the colony. it was while watts was governor of tortuga, if we are to believe the jesuit, dutertre, that the buccaneers determined to avenge the treachery of the spaniards to a french vessel in that neighbourhood by plundering the city of st. jago in hispaniola. according to this historian, who from the style of the narrative seems to be reporting the words of an eye-witness, the buccaneers, including doubtless both hunters and corsairs, formed a party of men under the leadership of four captains and obtained a commission for the enterprise from the english governor, who was very likely looking forward to a share of the booty. compelling the captain of a frigate which had just arrived from nantes to lend his ship, they embarked in it and in two or three other boats found on the coast for puerta de plata, where they landed on palm sunday of .[ ] st. jago, which lay in a pleasant, fertile plain some fifteen or twenty leagues in the interior of hispaniola, they approached through the woods on the night of holy wednesday, entered before daybreak, and surprised the governor in his bed. the buccaneers told him to prepare to die, whereupon he fell on his knees and prayed to such effect that they finally offered him his life for a ransom of , pieces of eight. they pillaged for twenty-four hours, taking even the bells, ornaments and sacred vessels of the churches, and after refreshing themselves with food and drink, retreated with their plunder and prisoners, including the governor and chief inhabitants. meanwhile the alarm had been given for ten or twelve leagues round about. men came in from all directions, and rallying with the inhabitants of the town till they amounted to about men, marched through the woods by a by-route, got ahead of the buccaneers and attacked them from ambush. the english and french stood their ground in spite of inferior numbers, for they were all good marksmen and every shot told. as the spaniards persisted, however, they finally threatened to stab the governor and all the other prisoners, whereupon the spaniards took counsel and retired to their homes. the invaders lost only ten killed and five or six wounded. they tarried on the coast several days waiting for the rest of the promised ransom, but as it failed to arrive they liberated the prisoners and returned to tortuga, each adventurer receiving crowns as his share of the pillage.[ ] in the latter part of a french gentleman, jérémie deschamps, seigneur du rausset, who had been one of the first inhabitants of tortuga under levasseur and de fontenay, repaired to england and had sufficient influence there to obtain an order from the council of state to colonel doyley to give him a commission as governor of tortuga, with such instructions as doyley might think requisite.[ ] this same du rausset, it seems, had received a french commission from louis xiv. as early as november .[ ] at any rate, he came to jamaica in and obtained his commission from doyley on condition that he held tortuga in the english interest.[ ] watts, it seems, had meanwhile learnt that he was to be superseded by a frenchman, whereupon he embarked with his family and all his goods and sought refuge in new england. about two months later, according to one story, doyley heard that deschamps had given a commission to a privateer and committed insolences for which doyley feared to be called to account. he sent to remonstrate with him, but deschamps answered that he possessed a french commission and that he had better interest with the powers in england than had the governor of jamaica. as there were more french than english on the island, deschamps then proclaimed the king of france and set up the french colours.[ ] doyley as yet had received no authority from the newly-restored king, charles ii., and hesitated to use any force; but he did give permission to arundell, watts' son-in-law, to surprise deschamps and carry him to jamaica for trial. deschamps was absent at the time at santa cruz, but arundell, relying upon the friendship and esteem which the inhabitants had felt for his father-in-law, surprised the governor's nephew and deputy, the sieur de la place, and possessed himself of the island. by some mischance or neglect, however, he was disarmed by the french and sent back to jamaica.[ ] this was not the end of his misfortunes. on the way to jamaica he and his company were surprised by spaniards in the bay of matanzas in cuba, and carried to puerto principe. there, after a month's imprisonment, arundell and barth. cock, his shipmaster, were taken out by negroes into the bush and murdered, and their heads brought into the town.[ ] deschamps later returned to france because of ill-health, leaving la place to govern the island in his stead, and when the property of the french antilles was vested in the new french west india company in he was arrested and sent to the bastille. the cause of his arrest is obscure, but it seems that he had been in correspondence with the english government, to whom he had offered to restore tortuga on condition of being reimbursed with £ sterling. a few days in the bastille made him think better of his resolution. he ceded his rights to the company for , livres, and was released from confinement in november.[ ] the fiasco of arundell's attempt was not the only effort of the english to recover the island. in answer to a memorial presented by lord windsor before his departure for jamaica, an order in council was delivered to him in february , empowering him to use his utmost endeavours to reduce tortuga and its governor to obedience.[ ] the matter was taken up by the jamaican council in september, shortly after windsor's arrival;[ ] and on th december an order was issued by deputy-governor lyttleton to captain robert munden of the "charles" frigate for the transportation of colonel samuel barry and captain langford to tortuga, where munden was to receive orders for reducing the island.[ ] the design miscarried again, however, probably because of ill-blood between barry and munden. clement de plenneville, who accompanied barry, writes that "the expedition failed through treachery";[ ] and beeston says in his journal that barry, approaching tortuga on th january, found the french armed and ready to oppose him, whereupon he ordered captain munden to fire. munden however refused, sailed away to corydon in hispaniola, where he put barry and his men on shore, and then "went away about his merchandize."[ ] barry made his way in a sloop to jamaica where he arrived on st march. langford, however, was sent to petit-goave, an island about the size of tortuga in the _cul-de-sac_ at the western end of hispaniola, where he was chosen governor by the inhabitants and raised the first english standard. petit-goave had been frequented by buccaneers since , and after d'ogeron succeeded du rausset as governor for the french in those regions, it became with tortuga one of their chief resorts. in the latter part of we find langford in england petitioning the king for a commission as governor of tortuga and the coast of hispaniola, and for two ships to go and seize the smaller island.[ ] such a design, however, with the direct sanction and aid of the english government, might have endangered a rupture with france. charles preferred to leave such irregular warfare to his governor in jamaica, whom he could support or disown as best suited the exigencies of the moment. langford, moreover, seems not to have made a brilliant success of his short stay at petit-goave, and was probably distrusted by the authorities both in england and in the west indies. when modyford came as governor to jamaica, the possibility of recovering tortuga was still discussed, but no effort to effect it was ever made again. footnotes: [footnote : dutertre, t. iii. p. ; add. mss., , , f. . on th february there arrived at jamaica a small vessel the master of which, touching at tortuga, had found upon the deserted island two papers, one in spanish, the other in "sorrie english" (thurloe papers, iv. p. ). these papers were copies of a proclamation forbidding settlement on the island, and the english paper (rawl. mss., a. , f. ) is printed in firth's "venables" as follows:-- "the captane and sarginge mager don baltearsor calderon and spenoso, nopte to the president that is now in the sity of santo-domingo, and captane of the gones of the sitye, and governor and lord mare of this island, and stranch of this lland of tortogo, and chefe comander of all for the khinge of spaine. "yoo moust understand that all pepell what soever that shall com to this iland of the khinge of spaine catholok wich is name is don pilep the ostere the forth of this name, that with his harmes he hath put of feleminge and french men and englesh with lefee heare from the yeare of tell the yeare of thurty fouer and tell the yeare of fifte fouer in wich the kinge of spane uesenge all curtyse and given good quartell to all that was upon this iland, after that came and with oute recepet upon this iland knowinge that the kinge of spane had planted upon it and fortified in the name of the kinge came the forth time the th of augost the last yeare french and fleminges to govern this iland the same governeore that was heare befor his name was themeleon hot man de founttana gentleman of the ourder of guresalem for to take this iland put if fources by se and land and forsed us to beate him oute of this place with a greate dale of shame, and be caues yoo shall take notes that wee have puelld doune the casill and carid all the gonenes and have puelld doune all the houes and have lefte no thinge, the same captane and sargint-mager in the name of the kinge wich god blesh hath given yoo notis that what souer nason souer that shall com to live upon this iland that thare shall not a man mother or children cape of the sorde, thare fore i give notiss to all pepell that they shall have a care with out anye more notis for this is the order of the kinge and with out fall you will not want yooer pamente and this is the furst and second and thorde time, and this whe leave heare for them that comes hear to take notis, that when wee com upon you, you shall not pleate that you dod not know is riten the of august ." baltesar calderon y espinosa por mandado de senor gou^{or}. pedro fran^{co} de riva deney xasuss. ] [footnote : in dutertre's account the name is eliazouard (elias ward).] [footnote : according to a spanish account of the expedition the date was . brit. mus., add. mss., , , f. .] [footnote : dutertre, tom. iii. pp. - .] [footnote : rawl. mss., a. , ff. and ; s.p. spain, vol. :--deposition of sir charles lyttleton; margry, _op. cit._, p. .] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. vii. p. ; vaissière, _op. cit._, p. .] [footnote : according to dutertre, deschamps' commission extended only to the french inhabitants upon tortuga, the french and english living thereafter under separate governments as at st. kitts. dutertre, t. iii. p. .] [footnote : rawl. mss., a. , f. . according to dutertre's version, watts had scarcely forsaken the island when deschamps arrived in the road, and found that the french inhabitants had already made themselves masters of the colony and had substituted the french for the english standard. dutertre, t. iii. p. .] [footnote : rawl. mss., a. , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : dutertre, t. iii. p. ; vaissière, _op. cit._, p. , note .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. ; _cf._ also no. ( ).] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : beeston's journal, st march . according to dutertre, some inhabitants of tortuga ran away to jamaica and persuaded the governor that they could no longer endure french domination, and that if an armed force was sent, it would find no obstacle in restoring the english king's authority. accordingly col. barry was despatched to receive their allegiance, with orders to use no violence but only to accept their voluntary submission. when barry landed on tortuga, however, with no other support than a proclamation and a harangue, the french inhabitants laughed in his face, and he returned to jamaica in shame and confusion. dutertre, t. iii. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. - .] chapter v porto bello and panama on th january , the king wrote to sir thomas modyford in barbadoes that he had chosen him governor of jamaica.[ ] modyford, who had lived as a planter in barbadoes since , had taken a prominent share in the struggles between parliamentarians and royalists in the little island. he was a member of the council, and had been governor for a short time in . his commission and instructions for jamaica[ ] were carried to the west indies by colonel edward morgan, who went as modyford's deputy-governor and landed in barbadoes on st april.[ ] modyford was instructed, among other things, to prohibit the granting of letters of marque, and particularly to encourage trade and maintain friendly relations with the spanish dominions. sir richard fanshaw had just been appointed to go to spain and negotiate a treaty for wider commercial privileges in the indies, and charles saw that the daily complaints of violence and depredation done by jamaican ships on the king of spain's subjects were scarcely calculated to increase the good-will and compliance of the spanish court. nor had the attempt in the indies to force a trade upon the spaniards been brilliantly successful. it was soon evident that another course of action was demanded. sir thomas modyford seems at first to have been sincerely anxious to suppress privateering and conciliate his spanish neighbours. on receiving his commission and instructions he immediately prepared letters to the president of san domingo, expressing his fair intentions and requesting the co-operation of the spaniards.[ ] modyford himself arrived in jamaica on st june,[ ] proclaimed an entire cessation of hostilities,[ ] and on the th sent the "swallow" ketch to cartagena to acquaint the governor with what he had done. on almost the same day letters were forwarded from england and from ambassador fanshaw in madrid, strictly forbidding all violences in the future against the spanish nation, and ordering modyford to inflict condign punishment on every offender, and make entire restitution and satisfaction to the sufferers.[ ] the letters for san domingo, which had been forwarded to jamaica with colonel morgan and thence dispatched to hispaniola before modyford's arrival, received a favourable answer, but that was about as far as the matter ever got. the buccaneers, moreover, the principal grievance of the spaniards, still remained at large. as thomas lynch wrote on th may, "it is not in the power of the governor to have or suffer a commerce, nor will any necessity or advantage bring private spaniards to jamaica, for we and they have used too many mutual barbarisms to have a sudden correspondence. when the king was restored, the spaniards thought the manners of the english nation changed too, and adventured twenty or thirty vessels to jamaica for blacks, but the surprises and irruptions by c. myngs, for whom the governor of san domingo has upbraided the commissioners, made the spaniards redouble their malice, and nothing but an order from spain can give us admittance or trade."[ ] for a short time, however, a serious effort was made to recall the privateers. several prizes which were brought into port royal were seized and returned to their owners, while the captors had their commissions taken from them. such was the experience of one captain searles, who in august brought in two spanish vessels, both of which were restored to the spaniards, and searles deprived of his rudder and sails as security against his making further depredations upon the dons.[ ] in november captain morris williams sent a note to governor modyford, offering to come in with a rich prize of logwood, indigo and silver, if security were given that it should be condemned to him for the payment of his debts in jamaica; and although the governor refused to give any promises the prize was brought in eight days later. the goods were seized and sold in the interest of the spanish owner.[ ] nevertheless, the effects of the proclamation were not at all encouraging. in the first month only three privateers came in with their commissions, and modyford wrote to secretary bennet on th june that he feared the only effect of the proclamation would be to drive them to the french in tortuga. he therefore thought it prudent, he continued, to dispense somewhat with the strictness of his instructions, "doing by degrees and moderation what he had at first resolved to execute suddenly and severely."[ ] tortuga was really the crux of the whole difficulty. back in colonel doyley, in his report to the lord chancellor after his return to england, had suggested the reduction of tortuga to english obedience as the only effective way of dealing with the buccaneers;[ ] and modyford in also realized the necessity of this preliminary step.[ ] the conquest of tortuga, however, was no longer the simple task it might have been four or five years earlier. the inhabitants of the island were now almost entirely french, and with their companions on the coast of hispaniola had no intention of submitting to english dictation. the buccaneers, who had become numerous and independent and made tortuga one of their principal retreats, would throw all their strength in the balance against an expedition the avowed object of whose coming was to make their profession impossible. the colony, moreover, received an incalculable accession of strength in the arrival of bertrand d'ogeron, the governor sent out in by the new french west india company. d'ogeron was one of the most remarkable figures in the west indies in the second half of the seventeenth century. of broad imagination and singular kindness of heart, with an indomitable will and a mind full of resource, he seems to have been an ideal man for the task, not only of reducing to some semblance of law and order a people who had never given obedience to any authority, but also of making palatable the _régime_ and exclusive privileges of a private trading company. d'ogeron first established himself at port margot on the coast of hispaniola opposite tortuga in the early part of ; and here the adventurers at once gave him to understand that they would never submit to any mere company, much less suffer an interruption of their trade with the dutch, who had supplied them with necessities at a time when it was not even known in france that there were frenchmen in that region. d'ogeron pretended to subscribe to these conditions, passed over to tortuga where he received the submission of la place, and then to petit-goave and leogane, in the _cul-de-sac_ of hispaniola. there he made his headquarters, adopted every means to attract planters and _engagés_, and firmly established his authority. he made advances from his own purse without interest to adventurers who wished to settle down to planting, bought two ships to facilitate trade between the colony and france, and even contrived to have several lots of fifty women each brought over from france to be sold and distributed as wives amongst the colonists. the settlements soon put on a new air of prosperity, and really owed their existence as a permanent french colony to the efforts of this new governor.[ ] it was under the administration of d'ogeron that l'olonnais,[ ] michel le basque, and most of the french buccaneers flourished, whose exploits are celebrated in exquemelin's history. the conquest of tortuga was not the only measure necessary for the effectual suppression of the buccaneers. five or six swift cruisers were also required to pursue and bring to bay those corsairs who refused to come in with their commissions.[ ] since the restoration the west indies had been entirely denuded of english men-of-war; while the buccaneers, with the tacit consent or encouragement of doyley, had at the same time increased both in numbers and boldness. letters written from jamaica in placed the number scattered abroad in privateering at from to , sailing in fourteen or fifteen ships.[ ] they were desperate men, accustomed to living at sea, with no trade but burning and plundering, and unlikely to take orders from any but stronger and faster frigates. nor was this condition of affairs surprising when we consider that, in the seventeenth century, there flowed from europe to the west indies adventurers from every class of society; men doubtless often endowed with strong personalities, enterprising and intrepid; but often, too, of mediocre intelligence or little education, and usually without either money or scruples. they included many who had revolted from the narrow social laws of european countries, and were disinclined to live peaceably within the bounds of any organized society. many, too, had belonged to rebellious political factions at home, men of the better classes who were banished or who emigrated in order to keep their heads upon their shoulders. in france the total exhaustion of public and private fortune at the end of the religious wars disposed many to seek to recoup themselves out of the immense colonial riches of the spaniards; while the disorders of the rebellion and the commonwealth in england caused successive emigrations of puritans and loyalists to the newer england beyond the seas. at the close of the thirty years' war, too, a host of french and english adventurers, who had fattened upon germany and her misfortunes, were left without a livelihood, and doubtless many resorted to emigration as the sole means of continuing their life of freedom and even of licence. coming to the west indies these men, so various in origin and character, hoped soon to acquire there the riches which they lost or coveted at home; and their expectations deceived, they often broke in a formal and absolute manner the bonds which attached them to their fellow humanity. jamaica especially suffered in this respect, for it had been colonized in the first instance by a discontented, refractory soldiery, and it was being recruited largely by transported criminals and vagabonds. in contrast with the policy of spain, who placed the most careful restrictions upon the class of emigrants sent to her american possessions, england from the very beginning used her colonies, and especially the west indian islands, as a dumping-ground for her refuse population. within a short time a regular trade sprang up for furnishing the colonies with servile labour from the prisons of the mother country. scots captured at the battles of dunbar and worcester,[ ] english, french, irish and dutch pirates lying in the gaols of dorchester and plymouth,[ ] if "not thought fit to be tried for their lives," were shipped to barbadoes, jamaica, and the other antilles. in august the council of state issued an order for the apprehension of all lewd and dangerous persons, rogues, vagrants and other idlers who had no way of livelihood and refused to work, to be transported by contractors to the english plantations in america;[ ] and in june the council for foreign plantations appointed a committee to consider the same matter.[ ] complaints were often made that children and apprentices were "seduced or spirited away" from their parents and masters and concealed upon ships sailing for the colonies; and an office of registry was established to prevent this abuse.[ ] in charles granted a licence for five years to sir james modyford, brother of sir thomas, to take all felons convicted in the circuits and at the old bailey who were afterwards reprieved for transportation to foreign plantations, and to transmit them to the governor of jamaica;[ ] and this practice was continued throughout the whole of the buccaneering period. privateering opened a channel by which these disorderly spirits, impatient of the sober and laborious life of the planter, found an employment agreeable to their tastes. an example had been set by the plundering expeditions sent out by fortescue, brayne and doyley, and when these naval excursions ceased, the sailors and others who had taken part in them fell to robbing on their private account. sir charles lyttleton, we have seen, zealously defended and encouraged the freebooters; and long, the historian of jamaica, justified their existence on the ground that many traders were attracted to the island by the plunder with which port royal was so abundantly stocked, and that the prosperity of the colony was founded upon the great demand for provisions for the outfit of the privateers. these effects, however, were but temporary and superficial, and did not counterbalance the manifest evils of the practice, especially the discouragement to planting, and the element of turbulence and unrest ever present in the island. under such conditions governor modyford found it necessary to temporise with the marauders, and perhaps he did so the more readily because he felt that they were still needed for the security of the colony. a war between england and the states-general then seemed imminent, and the governor considered that unless he allowed the buccaneers to dispose of their booty when they came in to port royal, they might, in event of hostilities breaking out, go to the dutch at curaçao and other islands, and prey upon jamaican commerce. on the other hand, if, by adopting a conciliatory attitude, he retained their allegiance, they would offer the handiest and most effective instrument for driving the dutch themselves out of the indies.[ ] he privately told one captain, who brought in a spanish prize, that he only stopped the admiralty proceedings to "give a good relish to the spaniard"; and that although the captor should have satisfaction, the governor could not guarantee him his ship. so sir thomas persuaded some merchants to buy the prize-goods and contributed one quarter of the money himself, with the understanding that he should receive nothing if the spaniards came to claim their property.[ ] a letter from secretary bennet, on th november , confirmed the governor in this course;[ ] and on nd february , three weeks before the declaration of war against holland, a warrant was issued to the duke of york, high admiral of england, to grant, through the colonial governors and vice-admirals, commissions of reprisal upon the ships and goods of the dutch.[ ] modyford at once took advantage of this liberty. some fourteen pirates, who in the beginning of february had been tried and condemned to death, were pardoned; and public declaration was made that commissions would be granted against the hollanders. before nightfall two commissions had been taken out, and all the rovers were making applications and planning how to seize curaçao.[ ] modyford drew up an elaborate design[ ] for rooting out at one and the same time the dutch settlements and the french buccaneers, and on th april he wrote that lieutenant-colonel morgan had sailed with ten ships and some men, chiefly "reformed prisoners," resolute fellows, and well armed with fusees and pistols.[ ] their plan was to fall upon the dutch fleet trading at st. kitts, capture st. eustatius, saba, and perhaps curaçao, and on the homeward voyage visit the french settlements on hispaniola and tortuga. "all this is prepared," he wrote, "by the honest privateer, at the old rate of no purchase no pay, and it will cost the king nothing considerable, some powder and mortar-pieces." on the same day, th april, admiral de ruyter, who had arrived in the indies with a fleet of fourteen sail, attacked the forts and shipping at barbadoes, but suffered considerable damage and retired after a few hours. at montserrat and nevis, however, he was more successful and captured sixteen merchant ships, after which he sailed for virginia and new york.[ ] the buccaneers enrolled in colonel morgan's expedition proved to be troublesome allies. before their departure from jamaica most of them mutinied, and refused to sail until promised by morgan that the plunder should be equally divided.[ ] on th july, however, the expedition made its rendezvous at montserrat, and on the rd arrived before st. eustatius. two vessels had been lost sight of, a third, with the ironical name of the "olive branch," had sailed for virginia, and many stragglers had been left behind at montserrat, so that morgan could muster only men for the assault. there was only one landing-place on the island, with a narrow path accommodating but two men at a time leading to an eminence which was crowned with a fort and dutchmen. morgan landed his division first, and colonel carey followed. the enemy, it seems, gave them but one small volley and then retreated to the fort. the governor sent forward three men to parley, and on receiving a summons to surrender, delivered up the fort with eleven large guns and considerable ammunition. "it is supposed they were drunk or mad," was the comment made upon the rather disgraceful defence.[ ] during the action colonel morgan, who was an old man and very corpulent, was overcome by the hard marching and extraordinary heat, and died. colonel carey, who succeeded him in command, was anxious to proceed at once to the capture of the dutch forts on saba, st. martins and tortola; but the buccaneers refused to stir until the booty got at st. eustatius was divided--nor were the officers and men able to agree on the manner of sharing. the plunder, besides guns and ammunition, included about slaves, negro and indian, with a large quantity of live stock and cotton. meanwhile a party of seventy had crossed over to the island of saba, only four leagues distant, and secured its surrender on the same terms as st. eustatius. as the men had now become very mutinous, and on a muster numbered scarcely , the officers decided that they could not reasonably proceed any further and sailed for jamaica, leaving a small garrison on each of the islands. most of the dutch, about in number, were sent to st. martins, but a few others, with some threescore english, irish and scotch, took the oath of allegiance and remained.[ ] encouraged by a letter from the king,[ ] governor modyford continued his exertions against the dutch. in january (?) two buccaneer captains, searles and stedman, with two small ships and only eighty men took the island of tobago, near trinidad, and destroyed everything they could not carry away. lord willoughby, governor of barbadoes, had also fitted out an expedition to take the island, but the jamaicans were three or four days before him. the latter were busy with their work of pillage, when willoughby arrived and demanded the island in the name of the king; and the buccaneers condescended to leave the fort and the governor's house standing only on condition that willoughby gave them liberty to sell their plunder in barbadoes.[ ] modyford, meanwhile, greatly disappointed by the miscarriage of the design against curaçao, called in the aid of the "old privateer," captain edward mansfield, and in the autumn of , with the hope of sending another armament against the island, appointed a rendezvous for the buccaneers in bluefields bay.[ ] in january war against england was openly declared by france in support of her dutch allies, and in the following month charles ii. sent letters to his governors in the west indies and the north american colonies, apprising them of the war and urging them to attack their french neighbours.[ ] the news of the outbreak of hostilities did not reach jamaica until nd july, but already in december of the previous year warning had been sent out to the west indies of the coming rupture.[ ] governor modyford, therefore, seeing the french very much increased in hispaniola, concluded that it was high time to entice the buccaneers from french service and bind them to himself by issuing commissions against the spaniards. the french still permitted the freebooters to dispose of spanish prizes in their ports, but the better market afforded by jamaica was always a sufficient consideration to attract not only the english buccaneers, but the dutch and french as well. moreover, the difficulties of the situation, which modyford had repeatedly enlarged upon in his letters, seem to have been appreciated by the authorities in england, for in the spring of , following upon secretary bennet's letter of th november and shortly after the outbreak of the dutch war, the duke of albemarle had written to modyford in the name of the king, giving him permission to use his own discretion in granting commissions against the dons.[ ] modyford was convinced that all the circumstances were favourable to such a course of action, and on nd february assembled the council. a resolution was passed that it was to the interest of the island to grant letters of marque against the spaniards,[ ] and a proclamation to this effect was published by the governor at port royal and tortuga. in the following august modyford sent home to bennet, now become lord arlington, an elaborate defence of his actions. "your lordship very well knows," wrote modyford, "how great an aversion i had for the privateers while at barbadoes, but after i had put his majesty's orders for restitution in strict execution, i found my error in the decay of the forts and wealth of this place, and also the affections of this people to his majesty's service; yet i continued discountenancing and punishing those kind of people till your lordship's of the th november arrived, commanding a gentle usage of them; still we went to decay, which i represented to the lord general faithfully the th of march following, who upon serious consideration with his majesty and the lord chancellor, by letter of st june , gave me latitude to grant or not commissions against the spaniard, as i found it for the advantage of his majesty's service and the good of this island. i was glad of this power, yet resolved not to use it unless necessity drove me to it; and that too when i saw how poor the fleets returning from statia were, so that vessels were broken up and the men disposed of for the coast of cuba to get a livelihood and so be wholly alienated from us. many stayed at the windward isles, having not enough to pay their engagements, and at tortuga and among the french buccaneers; still i forebore to make use of my power, hoping their hardships and great hazards would in time reclaim them from that course of life. but about the beginning of march last i found that the guards of port royal, which under colonel morgan were , had fallen to , so i assembled the council to advise how to strengthen that most important place with some of the inland forces; but they all agreed that the only way to fill port royal with men was to grant commissions against the spaniards, which they were very pressing in ... and looking on our weak condition, the chief merchants gone from port royal, no credit given to privateers for victualling, etc., and rumours of war with the french often repeated, i issued a declaration of my intentions to grant commissions against the spaniards. your lordship cannot imagine what an universal change there was on the faces of men and things, ships repairing, great resort of workmen and labourers to port royal, many returning, many debtors released out of prison, and the ships from the curaçao voyage, not daring to come in for fear of creditors, brought in and fitted out again, so that the regimental forces at port royal are near . had it not been for that seasonable action, i could not have kept my place against the french buccaneers, who would have ruined all the seaside plantations at least, whereas i now draw from them mainly, and lately david marteen, the best man of tortuga, that has two frigates at sea, has promised to bring in both."[ ] in so far as the buccaneers affected the mutual relations of england and spain, it after all could make little difference whether commissions were issued in jamaica or not, for the plundering and burning continued, and the harassed spanish-americans, only too prone to call the rogues english of whatever origin they might really be, continued to curse and hate the english nation and make cruel reprisals whenever possible. moreover, every expedition into spanish territory, finding the spaniards very weak and very rich, gave new incentive to such endeavour. while modyford had been standing now on one foot, now on the other, uncertain whether to repulse the buccaneers or not, secretly anxious to welcome them, but fearing the authorities at home, the corsairs themselves had entirely ignored him. the privateers whom modyford had invited to rendezvous in bluefield's bay in november had chosen captain mansfield as their admiral, and in the middle of january sailed from the south cays of cuba for curaçao. in the meantime, however, because they had been refused provisions which, according to modyford's account, they sought to buy from the spaniards in cuba, they had marched forty-two miles into the island, and on the strength of portuguese commissions which they held against the spaniards, had plundered and burnt the town of sancti spiritus, routed a body of horse, carried some prisoners to the coast, and for their ransom extorted head of cattle.[ ] the rich and easy profits to be got by plundering the spaniards were almost too much for the loyalty of the men, and modyford, hearing of many defections from their ranks, had despatched captain beeston on th november to divert them, if possible, from sancti spiritus, and confirm them in their designs against curaçao.[ ] the officers of the expedition, indeed, sent to the governor a letter expressing their zeal for the enterprise; but the men still held off, and the fleet, in consequence, eventually broke up. two vessels departed for tortuga, and four others, joined by two french rovers, sailed under mansfield to attempt the recapture of providence island, which, since , had been garrisoned by the spaniards and used as a penal settlement.[ ] being resolved, as mansfield afterwards told the governor of jamaica, never to see modyford's face until he had done some service to the king, he sailed for providence with about men,[ ] and approaching the island in the night by an unusual passage among the reefs, landed early in the morning, and surprised and captured the spanish commander. the garrison of about yielded up the fort on the promise that they would be carried to the mainland. twenty-seven pieces of ordnance were taken, many of which, it is said, bore the arms of queen elizabeth engraved upon them. mansfield left thirty-five men under command of a captain hattsell to hold the island, and sailed with his prisoners for central america. after cruising along the shores of the mainland, he ascended the san juan river and entered and sacked granada, the capital of nicaragua. from granada the buccaneers turned south into costa rica, burning plantations, breaking the images in the churches, ham-stringing cows and mules, cutting down the fruit trees, and in general destroying everything they found. the spanish governor had only thirty-six soldiers at his disposal and scarcely any firearms; but he gathered the inhabitants and some indians, blocked the roads, laid ambuscades, and did all that his pitiful means permitted to hinder the progress of the invaders. the freebooters had designed to visit cartago, the chief city of the province, and plunder it as they had plundered granada. they penetrated only as far as turrialva, however, whence weary and footsore from their struggle through the cordillera, and harassed by the spaniards, they retired through the province of veragua in military order to their ships.[ ] on th june the buccaneers, laden with booty, sailed into port royal. there was at that moment no declared war between england and spain. yet the governor, probably because he believed mansfield to be justified, _ex post facto_, by the issue of commissions against the spaniards in the previous february, did no more than mildly reprove him for acting without his orders; and "considering its good situation for favouring any design on the rich main," he accepted the tender of the island in behalf of the king. he despatched major samuel smith, who had been one of mansfield's party, with a few soldiers to reinforce the english garrison;[ ] and on th november the council in england set the stamp of their approval upon his actions by issuing a commission to his brother, sir james modyford, to be lieutenant-governor of the new acquisition.[ ] in august , only two months before the departure of mansfield from jamaica, there had returned to port royal from a raid in the same region three privateer captains named morris, jackman and morgan.[ ] these men, with their followers, doubtless helped to swell the ranks of mansfield's buccaneers, and it was probably their report of the wealth of central america which induced mansfield to emulate their performance. in the previous january these three captains, still pretending to sail under commissions from lord windsor, had ascended the river tabasco, in the province of campeache, with men, and guided by indians made a detour of miles, according to their account, to villa de mosa,[ ] which they took and plundered. when they returned to the mouth of the river, they found that their ships had been seized by spaniards, who, on their approach, attacked them strong. the spaniards, softened by the heat and indolent life of the tropics, were no match for one-third their number of desperadoes, and the buccaneers beat them off without the loss of a man. the freebooters then fitted up two barques and four canoes, sailed to rio garta and stormed the place with only thirty men; crossed the gulf of honduras to the island of roatan to rest and obtain fresh water, and then captured and plundered the port of truxillo. down the mosquito coast they passed like a devouring flame, consuming all in their path. anchoring in monkey bay, they ascended the san juan river in canoes for a distance of miles to lake nicaragua. the basin into which they entered they described as a veritable paradise, the air cool and wholesome, the shores of the lake full of green pastures and broad savannahs dotted with horses and cattle, and round about all a coronal of azure mountains. hiding by day among the numerous islands and rowing all night, on the fifth night they landed near the city of granada, just a year before mansfield's visit to the place. the buccaneers marched unobserved to the central square of the city, overturned eighteen cannon mounted there, seized the magazine, and took and imprisoned in the cathedral of the citizens. they plundered for sixteen hours, then released their prisoners, and taking the precaution to scuttle all the boats, made their way back to the sea coast. the town was large and pleasant, containing seven churches besides several colleges and monasteries, and most of the buildings were constructed of stone. about indians, driven to rebellion by the cruelty and oppression of the spaniards, accompanied the marauders and would have massacred the prisoners, especially the religious, had they not been told that the english had no intentions of retaining their conquest. the news of the exploit produced a lively impression in jamaica, and the governor suggested central america as the "properest place" for an attack from england on the spanish indies.[ ] providence island was now in the hands of an english garrison, and the spaniards were not slow to realise that the possession of this outpost by the buccaneers might be but the first step to larger conquests on the mainland. the president of panama, don juan perez de guzman, immediately took steps to recover the island. he transferred himself to porto bello, embargoed an english ship of thirty guns, the "concord," lying at anchor there with licence to trade in negroes, manned it with spaniards under command of josé sánchez jiménez, and sent it to cartagena. the governor of cartagena contributed several small vessels and a hundred or more men to the enterprise, and on th august the united spanish fleet appeared off the shores of providence. on the refusal of major smith to surrender, the spaniards landed, and on th august, after a three days' siege, forced the handful of buccaneers, only sixty or seventy in number, to capitulate. some of the english defenders later deposed before governor modyford that the spaniards had agreed to let them depart in a barque for jamaica. however this may be, when the english came to lay down their arms they were made prisoners by the spaniards, carried to porto bello, and all except sir thomas whetstone, major smith and captain stanley, the three english captains, submitted to the most inhuman cruelties. thirty-three were chained to the ground in a dungeon feet by . they were forced to work in the water from five in the morning till seven at night, and at such a rate that the spaniards themselves confessed they made one of them do more work than any three negroes; yet when weak for want of victuals and sleep, they were knocked down and beaten with cudgels so that four or five died. "having no clothes, their backs were blistered with the sun, their heads scorched, their necks, shoulders and hands raw with carrying stones and mortar, their feet chopped and their legs bruised and battered with the irons, and their corpses were noisome to one another." the three english captains were carried to panama, and there cast into a dungeon and bound in irons for seventeen months.[ ] on th january sir richard fanshaw, formerly ambassador to portugal, had arrived in madrid from england to negotiate a treaty of commerce with spain, and if possible to patch up a peace between the spanish and portuguese crowns. he had renewed the old demand for a free commerce in the indies; and the negotiations had dragged through the years of and , hampered and crossed by the factions in the spanish court, the hostile machinations of the dutch resident in madrid, and the constant rumours of cruelties and desolations by the freebooters in america.[ ] the spanish government insisted that by sole virtue of the articles of there was peace on both sides of the "line," and that the violences of the buccaneers in the west indies, and even the presence of english colonists there, was a breach of the articles. in this fashion they endeavoured to reduce fanshaw to the position of a suppliant for favours which they might only out of their grace and generosity concede. it was a favourite trick of spanish diplomacy, which had been worked many times before. the english ambassador was, in consequence, compelled strenuously to deny the existence of any peace in america, although he realised how ambiguous his position had been rendered by the original orders of charles ii. to modyford in .[ ] after the death of philip iv. in , negotiations were renewed with the encouragement of the queen regent, and on th december provisional articles were signed by fanshaw and the duke de medina de los torres and sent to england for ratification.[ ] fanshaw died shortly after, and lord sandwich, his successor, finally succeeded in concluding a treaty on rd may .[ ] the provisions of the treaty extended to places "where hitherto trade and commerce hath been accustomed," and the only privileges obtained in america were those which had been granted to the low countries by the treaty of munster. on st july of the same year a general peace was concluded at breda between england, holland and france. it was in the very midst of lord sandwich's negotiations that modyford had, as beeston expresses it in his journal, declared war against the spaniards by the re-issue of privateering commissions. he had done it all in his own name, however, so that the king might disavow him should the exigencies of diplomacy demand it.[ ] moreover, at this same time, in the middle of , albemarle was writing to modyford that notwithstanding the negotiations, in which, as he said, the west indies were not at all concerned, the governor might still employ the privateers as formerly, if it be for the benefit of english interests in the indies.[ ] the news of the general peace reached jamaica late in ; yet modyford did not change his policy. it is true that in february secretary lord arlington had sent directions to restrain the buccaneers from further acts of violence against the spaniards;[ ] but modyford drew his own conclusions from the contradictory orders received from england, and was conscious, perhaps, that he was only reflecting the general policy of the home government when he wrote to arlington:--"truly it must be very imprudent to run the hazard of this place, for obtaining a correspondence which could not but by orders from madrid be had.... the spaniards look on us as intruders and trespassers, wheresoever they find us in the indies, and use us accordingly; and were it in their power, as it is fixed in their wills, would soon turn us out of all our plantations; and is it reasonable that we should quietly let them grow upon us until they are able to do it? it must be force alone that can cut in sunder that unneighbourly maxim of their government to deny all access to strangers."[ ] these words were very soon translated into action, for in june henry morgan, with a fleet of nine or ten ships and between and men, took and sacked porto bello, one of the strongest cities of spanish america, and the emporium for most of the european trade of the south american continent. henry morgan was a nephew of the colonel edward morgan who died in the assault of st. eustatius. he is said to have been kidnapped at bristol while he was a mere lad and sold as a servant in barbadoes, whence, on the expiration of his time, he found his way to jamaica. there he joined the buccaneers and soon rose to be captain of a ship. it was probably he who took part in the expedition with morris and jackman to campeache and central america. he afterwards joined the curaçao armament of mansfield and was with the latter when he seized the island of providence. after mansfield's disappearance morgan seems to have taken his place as the foremost buccaneer leader in jamaica, and during the next twenty years he was one of the most considerable men in the colony. he was but thirty-three years old when he led the expedition against porto bello.[ ] in the beginning of sir thomas modyford, having had "frequent and strong advice" that the spaniards were planning an invasion of jamaica, had commissioned henry morgan to draw together the english privateers and take some spanish prisoners in order to find out if these rumours were true. the buccaneers, according to morgan's own report to the governor, were driven to the south cays of cuba, where being in want of victuals and "like to starve," and meeting some frenchmen in a similar plight, they put their men ashore to forage. they found all the cattle driven up into the country, however, and the inhabitants fled. so the freebooters marched twenty leagues to puerto principe on the north side of the island, and after a short encounter, in which the spanish governor was killed, possessed themselves of the place. nothing of value escaped the rapacity of the invaders, who resorted to the extremes of torture to draw from their prisoners confessions of hidden wealth. on the entreaty of the spaniards they forebore to fire the town, and for a ransom of head of cattle released all the prisoners; but they compelled the spaniards to salt the beef and carry it to the ships.[ ] morgan reported, with what degree of truth we have no means of judging, that seventy men had been impressed in puerto principe to go against jamaica, and that a similar levy had been made throughout the island. considerable forces, moreover, were expected from the mainland to rendezvous at havana and st. jago, with the final object of invading the english colony. on returning to the ships from the sack of puerto principe, morgan unfolded to his men his scheme of striking at the very heart of spanish power in the indies by capturing porto bello. the frenchmen among his followers, it seems, wholly refused to join him in this larger design, full of danger as it was; so morgan sailed away with only the english freebooters, some in number, for the coasts of darien. exquemelin has left us a narrative of this exploit which is more circumstantial than any other we possess, and agrees so closely with what we know from other sources that we must accept the author's statement that he was an eye-witness. he relates the whole story, moreover, in so entertaining and picturesque a manner that he deserves quotation. "captain morgan," he says, "who knew very well all the avenues of this city, as also all the neighbouring coasts, arrived in the dusk of the evening at the place called puerto de naos, distant ten leagues towards the west of porto bello.[ ] being come unto this place, they mounted the river in their ships, as far as another harbour called puerto pontin, where they came to anchor. here they put themselves immediately into boats and canoes, leaving in the ships only a few men to keep them and conduct them the next day unto the port. about midnight they came to a certain place called estera longa lemos, where they all went on shore, and marched by land to the first posts of the city. they had in their company a certain englishman, who had been formerly a prisoner in those parts, and who now served them for a guide. unto him, and three or four more, they gave commission to take the sentry, if possible, or to kill him upon the place. but they laid hands on him and apprehended him with such cunning as he had no time to give warning with his musket, or make any other noise. thus they brought him, with his hands bound, unto captain morgan, who asked him: 'how things went in the city, and what forces they had'; with many other circumstances, which he was desirous to know. after every question they made him a thousand menaces to kill him, in case he declared not the truth. thus they began to advance towards the city, carrying always the said sentry bound before them. having marched about one quarter of a league, they came to the castle that is nigh unto the city, which presently they closely surrounded, so that no person could get either in or out of the said fortress. "being thus posted under the walls of the castle, captain morgan commanded the sentry, whom they had taken prisoner, to speak to those that were within, charging them to surrender, and deliver themselves up to his discretion; otherwise they should be all cut in pieces, without giving quarter to any one. but they would hearken to none of these threats, beginning instantly to fire; which gave notice unto the city, and this was suddenly alarmed. yet, notwithstanding, although the governor and soldiers of the said castle made as great resistance as could be performed, they were constrained to surrender unto the pirates. these no sooner had taken the castle, than they resolved to be as good as their words, in putting the spaniards to the sword, thereby to strike a terror into the rest of the city. hereupon, having shut up all the soldiers and officers as prisoners into one room, they instantly set fire to the powder (whereof they found great quantity), and blew up the whole castle into the air, with all the spaniards that were within. this being done, they pursued the course of their victory, falling upon the city, which as yet was not in order to receive them. many of the inhabitants cast their precious jewels and moneys into wells and cisterns or hid them in other places underground, to excuse, as much as were possible, their being totally robbed. one party of the pirates being assigned to this purpose, ran immediately to the cloisters, and took as many religious men and women as they could find. the governor of the city not being able to rally the citizens, through the huge confusion of the town, retired unto one of the castles remaining, and from thence began to fire incessantly at the pirates. but these were not in the least negligent either to assault him or defend themselves with all the courage imaginable. thus it was observed that, amidst the horror of the assault, they made very few shot in vain. for aiming with great dexterity at the mouths of the guns, the spaniards were certain to lose one or two men every time they charged each gun anew. "the assault of this castle where the governor was continued very furious on both sides, from break of day until noon. yea, about this time of the day the case was very dubious which party should conquer or be conquered. at last the pirates, perceiving they had lost many men and as yet advanced but little towards the gaining either this or the other castles remaining, thought to make use of fireballs, which they threw with their hands, designing, if possible, to burn the doors of the castle. but going about to put this in execution, the spaniards from the walls let fall great quantity of stones and earthen pots full of powder and other combustible matter, which forced them to desist from that attempt. captain morgan, seeing this generous defence made by the spaniards, began to despair of the whole success of the enterprise. hereupon many faint and calm meditations came into his mind; neither could he determine which way to turn himself in that straitness of affairs. being involved in these thoughts, he was suddenly animated to continue the assault, by seeing the english colours put forth at one of the lesser castles, then entered by his men, of whom he presently after spied a troop that came to meet him proclaiming victory with loud shouts of joy. this instantly put him upon new resolutions of making new efforts to take the rest of the castles that stood out against him; especially seeing the chief citizens were fled unto them, and had conveyed thither great part of their riches, with all the plate belonging to the churches, and other things dedicated to divine service. "to this effect, therefore, he ordered ten or twelve ladders to be made, in all possible haste, so broad that three or four men at once might ascend by them. these being finished, he commanded all the religious men and women whom he had taken prisoners to fix them against the walls of the castle. thus much he had beforehand threatened the governor to perform, in case he delivered not the castle. but his answer was: 'he would never surrender himself alive.' captain morgan was much persuaded that the governor would not employ his utmost forces, seeing religious women and ecclesiastical persons exposed in the front of the soldiers to the greatest dangers. thus the ladders, as i have said, were put into the hands of religious persons of both sexes; and these were forced, at the head of the companies, to raise and apply them to the walls. but captain morgan was deceived in his judgment of this design. for the governor, who acted like a brave and courageous soldier, refused not, in performance of his duty, to use his utmost endeavours to destroy whosoever came near the walls. the religious men and women ceased not to cry unto him and beg of him by all the saints of heaven he would deliver the castle, and hereby spare both his and their own lives. but nothing could prevail with the obstinacy and fierceness that had possessed the governor's mind. thus many of the religious men and nuns were killed before they could fix the ladders. which at last being done, though with great loss of the said religious people, the pirates mounted them in great numbers, and with no less valour; having fireballs in their hands, and earthen pots full of powder. all which things, being now at the top of the walls, they kindled and cast in among the spaniards. "this effort of the pirates was very great, insomuch as the spaniards could no longer resist nor defend the castle, which was now entered. hereupon they all threw down their arms, and craved quarter for their lives. only the governor of the city would admit or crave no mercy; but rather killed many of the pirates with his own hands, and not a few of his own soldiers, because they did not stand to their arms. and although the pirates asked him if he would have quarter, yet he constantly answered: 'by no means; i had rather die as a valiant soldier, than be hanged as a coward.' they endeavoured as much as they could to take him prisoner. but he defended himself so obstinately that they were forced to kill him; notwithstanding all the cries and tears of his own wife and daughter, who begged of him upon their knees he would demand quarter and save his life. when the pirates had possessed themselves of the castle, which was about night, they enclosed therein all the prisoners they had taken, placing the women and men by themselves, with some guards upon them. all the wounded were put into a certain apartment by itself, to the intent their own complaints might be the cure of their diseases; for no other was afforded them. "this being done, they fell to eating and drinking after their usual manner; that is to say, committing in both these things all manner of debauchery and excess.... after such manner they delivered themselves up unto all sort of debauchery, that if there had been found only fifty courageous men, they might easily have re-taken the city, and killed all the pirates. the next day, having plundered all they could find, they began to examine some of the prisoners (who had been persuaded by their companions to say they were the richest of the town), charging them severely to discover where they had hidden their riches and goods. but not being able to extort anything out of them, as they were not the right persons that possessed any wealth, they at last resolved to torture them. this they performed with such cruelty that many of them died upon the rack, or presently after. soon after, the president of panama had news brought him of the pillage and ruin of porto bello. this intelligence caused him to employ all his care and industry to raise forces, with design to pursue and cast out the pirates from thence. but these cared little for what extraordinary means the president used, as having their ships nigh at hand, and being determined to set fire unto the city and retreat. they had now been at porto bello fifteen days, in which space of time they had lost many of their men, both by the unhealthiness of the country and the extravagant debaucheries they had committed.[ ] "hereupon they prepared for a departure, carrying on board their ships all the pillage they had gotten. but, before all, they provided the fleet with sufficient victuals for the voyage. while these things were getting ready, captain morgan sent an injunction unto the prisoners, that they should pay him a ransom for the city, or else he would by fire consume it to ashes, and blow up all the castles into the air. withal, he commanded them to send speedily two persons to seek and procure the sum he demanded, which amounted to one hundred thousand pieces of eight. unto this effect, two men were sent to the president of panama, who gave him an account of all these tragedies. the president, having now a body of men in readiness, set forth immediately towards porto bello, to encounter the pirates before their retreat. but these people, hearing of his coming, instead of flying away, went out to meet him at a narrow passage through which of necessity he ought to pass. here they placed an hundred men very well armed; the which, at the first encounter, put to flight a good party of those of panama. this accident obliged the president to retire for that time, as not being yet in a posture of strength to proceed any farther. presently after this rencounter he sent a message unto captain morgan to tell him: 'that in case he departed not suddenly with all his forces from porto bello, he ought to expect no quarter for himself nor his companions, when he should take them, as he hoped soon to do.' captain morgan, who feared not his threats knowing he had a secure retreat in his ships which were nigh at hand, made him answer: 'he would not deliver the castles, before he had received the contribution money he had demanded. which in case it were not paid down, he would certainly burn the whole city, and then leave it, demolishing beforehand the castles and killing the prisoners.' "the governor of panama perceived by this answer that no means would serve to mollify the hearts of the pirates, nor reduce them to reason. hereupon he determined to leave them; as also those of the city, whom he came to relieve, involved in the difficulties of making the best agreement they could with their enemies.[ ] thus, in a few days more, the miserable citizens gathered the contribution wherein they were fined, and brought the entire sum of one hundred thousand pieces of eight unto the pirates, for a ransom of the cruel captivity they were fallen into. but the president of panama, by these transactions, was brought into an extreme admiration, considering that four hundred men had been able to take such a great city, with so many strong castles; especially seeing they had no pieces of cannon, nor other great guns, wherewith to raise batteries against them. and what was more, knowing that the citizens of porto bello had always great repute of being good soldiers themselves, and who had never wanted courage in their own defence. this astonishment was so great, that it occasioned him, for to be satisfied therein, to send a messenger unto captain morgan, desiring him to send him some small pattern of those arms wherewith he had taken with such violence so great a city. captain morgan received this messenger very kindly, and treated him with great civility. which being done, he gave him a pistol and a few small bullets of lead, to carry back unto the president, his master, telling him withal: 'he desired him to accept that slender pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken porto bello and keep them for a twelvemonth; after which time he promised to come to panama and fetch them away.' the governor of panama returned the present very soon unto captain morgan, giving him thanks for the favour of lending him such weapons as he needed not, and withal sent him a ring of gold, with this message: 'that he desired him not to give himself the labour of coming to panama, as he had done to porto bello; for he did certify unto him, he should not speed so well here as he had done there.' "after these transactions, captain morgan (having provided his fleet with all necessaries, and taken with him the best guns of the castles, nailing the rest which he could not carry away) set sail from porto bello with all his ships. with these he arrived in a few days unto the island of cuba, where he sought out a place wherein with all quiet and repose he might make the dividend of the spoil they had gotten. they found in ready money two hundred and fifty thousand pieces of eight, besides all other merchandises, as cloth, linen, silks and other goods. with this rich purchase they sailed again from thence unto their common place of rendezvous, jamaica. being arrived, they passed here some time in all sorts of vices and debauchery, according to their common manner of doing, spending with huge prodigality what others had gained with no small labour and toil."[ ] morgan and his officers, on their return to jamaica in the middle of august, made an official report which places their conduct in a peculiarly mild and charitable light,[ ] and forms a sharp contrast to the account left us by exquemelin. according to morgan the town and castles were restored "in as good condition as they found them," and the people were so well treated that "several ladies of great quality and other prisoners" who were offered "their liberty to go to the president's camp, refused, saying they were now prisoners to a person of quality, who was more tender of their honours than they doubted to find in the president's camp, and so voluntarily continued with them till the surrender of the town and castles." this scarcely tallies with what we know of the manners of the freebooters, and exquemelin's evidence is probably nearer the truth. when morgan returned to jamaica modyford at first received him somewhat doubtfully, for morgan's commission, as the governor told him, was only against ships, and the governor was not at all sure how the exploit would be taken in england. morgan, however, had reported that at porto bello, as well as in cuba, levies were being made for an attack upon jamaica, and modyford laid great stress upon this point when he forwarded the buccaneer's narrative to the duke of albemarle. the sack of porto bello was nothing less than an act of open war against spain, and modyford, now that he had taken the decisive step, was not satisfied with half measures. before the end of october the whole fleet of privateers, ten sail and men, had gone out again under morgan to cruise on the coasts of caracas, while captain dempster with several other vessels and followers lay before havana and along the shores of campeache.[ ] modyford had written home repeatedly that if the king wished him to exercise any adequate control over the buccaneers, he must send from england two or three nimble fifth-rate frigates to command their obedience and protect the island from hostile attacks. charles in reply to these letters sent out the "oxford," a frigate of thirty-four guns, which arrived at port royal on th october. according to beeston's journal, it brought instructions countenancing the war, and empowering the governor to commission whatever persons he thought good to be partners with his majesty in the plunder, "they finding victuals, wear and tear."[ ] the frigate was immediately provisioned for a several months' cruise, and sent under command of captain edward collier to join morgan's fleet as a private ship-of-war. morgan had appointed the isle la vache, or cow island, on the south side of hispaniola, as the rendezvous for the privateers; and thither flocked great numbers, both english and french, for the name of morgan was, by his exploit at porto bello, rendered famous in all the neighbouring islands. here, too, arrived the "oxford" in december. among the french privateers were two men-of-war, one of which, the "cour volant" of la rochelle, commanded by m. la vivon, was seized by captain collier for having robbed an english vessel of provisions. a few days later, on nd january, a council of war was held aboard the "oxford," where it was decided that the privateers, now numbering about men, should attack cartagena. while the captains were at dinner on the quarter-deck, however, the frigate blew up, and about men, including five captains, were lost.[ ] "i was eating my dinner with the rest," writes the surgeon, richard browne, "when the mainmasts blew out, and fell upon captains aylett, bigford, and others, and knocked them on the head; i saved myself by getting astride the mizzenmast." it seems that out of the whole ship only morgan and those who sat on his side of the table were saved. the accident was probably caused by the carelessness of a gunner. captain collier sailed in la vivon's ship for jamaica, where the french captain was convicted of piracy in the admiralty court, and reprieved by governor modyford, but his ship confiscated.[ ] morgan, from the rendezvous at the isle la vache, had coasted along the southern shores of hispaniola and made several inroads upon the island for the purpose of securing beef and other provisions. some of his ships, meanwhile, had been separated from the body of the fleet, and at last he found himself with but eight vessels and or men, scarcely more than half his original company. with these small numbers he changed his resolution to attempt cartagena, and set sail for maracaibo, a town situated on the great lagoon of that name in venezuela. this town had been pillaged in , just before the peace of aix-la-chapelle, by buccaneers led by two french captains, l'olonnais and michel le basque, and had suffered all the horrors attendant upon such a visit. in march morgan appeared at the entrance to the lake, forced the passage after a day's hot bombardment, dismantled the fort which commanded it, and entered maracaibo, from which the inhabitants had fled before him. the buccaneers sacked the town, and scoured the woods in search of the spaniards and their valuables. men, women and children were brought in and cruelly tortured to make them confess where their treasures were hid. morgan, at the end of three weeks, "having now got by degrees into his hands about of the chief families," resolved to go to gibraltar, near the head of the lake, as l'olonnais had done before him. here the scenes of inhuman cruelty, "the tortures, murders, robberies and such like insolences," were repeated for five weeks; after which the buccaneers, gathering up their rich booty, returned to maracaibo, carrying with them four hostages for the ransom of the town and prisoners, which the inhabitants promised to send after them. at maracaibo morgan learnt that three large spanish men-of-war were lying off the entrance of the lake, and that the fort, in the meantime, had been armed and manned and put into a posture of defence. in order to gain time he entered into negotiations with the spanish admiral, don alonso del campo y espinosa, while the privateers carefully made ready a fireship disguised as a man-of-war. at dawn on st may , according to exquemelin, they approached the spanish ships riding at anchor within the entry of the lake, and sending the fireship ahead of the rest, steered directly for them. the fireship fell foul of the "almirante," a vessel of forty guns, grappled with her and set her in flames. the second spanish ship, when the plight of the admiral was discovered, was run aground and burnt by her own men. the third was captured by the buccaneers. as no quarter was given or taken, the loss of the spaniards must have been considerable, although some of those on the admiral, including don alonso, succeeded in reaching shore. from a pilot picked up by the buccaneers, morgan learned that in the flagship was a great quantity of plate to the value of , pieces of eight. of this he succeeded in recovering about half, much of it melted by the force of the heat. morgan then returned to maracaibo to refit his prize, and opening negotiations again with don alonso, he actually succeeded in obtaining , pieces of eight and head of cattle as a ransom for the city. permission to pass the fort, however, the spaniard refused. so, having first made a division of the spoil,[ ] morgan resorted to an ingenious stratagem to effect his egress from the lake. he led the spaniards to believe that he was landing his men for an attack on the fort from the land side; and while the spaniards were moving their guns in that direction, morgan in the night, by the light of the moon, let his ships drop gently down with the tide till they were abreast of the fort, and then suddenly spreading sail made good his escape. on th may the buccaneers returned to port royal. these events in the west indies filled the spanish court with impotent rage, and the conde de molina, ambassador in england, made repeated demands for the punishment of modyford, and for the restitution of the plate and other captured goods which were beginning to flow into england from jamaica. the english council replied that the treaty of was not understood to include the indies, and charles ii. sent him a long list of complaints of ill-usage to english ships at the hands of the spaniards in america.[ ] orders seem to have been sent to modyford, however, to stop hostilities, for in may modyford again called in all commissions,[ ] and beeston writes in his journal, under th june, that peace was publicly proclaimed with the spaniards. in november, moreover, the governor told albemarle that most of the buccaneers were turning to trade, hunting or planting, and that he hoped soon to reduce all to peaceful pursuits.[ ] the spanish council of state, in the meantime, had determined upon a course of active reprisal. a commission from the queen-regent, dated th april , commanded her governors in the indies to make open war against the english;[ ] and a fleet of six vessels, carrying from eighteen to forty-eight guns, was sent from spain to cruise against the buccaneers. to this fleet belonged the three ships which tried to bottle up morgan in lake maracaibo. port royal was filled with report and rumour of english ships captured and plundered, of cruelties to english prisoners in the dungeons of cartagena, of commissions of war issued at porto bello and st. jago de cuba, and of intended reprisals upon the settlements in jamaica. the privateers became restless and spoke darkly of revenge, while modyford, his old supporter the duke of albemarle having just died, wrote home begging for orders which would give him liberty to retaliate.[ ] the last straw fell in june , when two spanish men-of-war from st. jago de cuba, commanded by a portuguese, manuel rivero pardal, landed men on the north side of the island, burnt some houses and carried off a number of the inhabitants as prisoners.[ ] on nd july the governor and council issued a commission to henry morgan, as commander-in-chief of all ships of war belonging to jamaica, to get together the privateers for the defence of the island, to attack, seize and destroy all the enemy's vessels he could discover, and in case he found it feasible, "to land and attack st. jago or any other place where ... are stores for this war or a rendezvous for their forces." in the accompanying instructions he was bidden "to advise his fleet and soldiers that they were upon the old pleasing account of no purchase, no pay, and therefore that all which is got, shall be divided amongst them, according to the accustomed rules."[ ] morgan sailed from jamaica on th august with eleven vessels and men for the isle la vache, the usual rendezvous, whence during the next three months squadrons were detailed to the coast of cuba and the mainland of south america to collect provisions and intelligence. sir william godolphin was at that moment in madrid concluding articles for the establishment of peace and friendship in america; and on th june secretary arlington wrote to modyford that in view of these negotiations his majesty commanded the privateers to forbear all hostilities on land against the spaniards.[ ] these orders reached jamaica on th august, whereupon the governor recalled morgan, who had sailed from the harbour the day before, and communicated them to him, "strictly charging him to observe the same and behave with all moderation possible in carrying on the war." the admiral replied that necessity would compel him to land in the spaniards' country for wood, water and provisions, but unless he was assured that the enemy in their towns were making hostile preparations against the jamaicans, he would not touch any of them.[ ] on th september, however, vice-admiral collier with six sail and men was dispatched by morgan to the spanish main. there on th november he seized, in the harbour of santa marta, two frigates laden with provisions for maracaibo. then coasting eastward to rio de la hacha, he attacked and captured the fort with its commander and all its garrison, sacked the city, held it to ransom for salt, maize, meat and other provisions, and after occupying it for almost a month returned on th october to the isle la vache.[ ] one of the frigates captured at santa marta, "la gallardina," had been with pardal when he burnt the coast of jamaica. pardal's own ship of fourteen guns had been captured but a short time before by captain john morris at the east end of cuba, and pardal himself shot through the neck and killed.[ ] he was called by the jamaicans "the vapouring admiral of st. jago," for in june he had nailed a piece of canvas to a tree on the jamaican coast, with a curious challenge written both in english and spanish:-- "i, captain manuel rivero pardal, to the chief of the squadron of privateers in jamaica. i am he who this year have done that which follows. i went on shore at caimanos, and burnt houses, and fought with captain ary, and took from him a catch laden with provisions and a canoe. and i am he who took captain baines and did carry the prize to cartagena, and now am arrived to this coast, and have burnt it. and i come to seek general morgan, with ships of guns, and having seen this, i crave he would come out upon the coast and seek me, that he might see the valour of the spaniards. and because i had no time i did not come to the mouth of port royal to speak by word of mouth in the name of my king, whom god preserve. dated the th of july ."[ ] meanwhile, in the middle of october, there sailed into port royal three privateers, captains prince, harrison and ludbury, who six weeks before had ascended the river san juan in nicaragua with men and again plundered the unfortunate city of granada. the town had rapidly decayed, however, under the repeated assaults of the buccaneers, and the plunderers secured only £ or £ per man. modyford reproved the captains for acting without commissions, but "not deeming it prudent to press the matter too far in this juncture," commanded them to join morgan at the isle la vache.[ ] there morgan was slowly mustering his strength. he negotiated with the french of tortuga and hispaniola who were then in revolt against the _régime_ of the french company; and he added to his forces seven ships and men sent him by the indefatigable governor of jamaica. on th october, indeed, the venture was almost ruined by a violent storm which cast the whole fleet, except the admiral's vessel, upon the shore. all of the ships but three, however, were eventually got off and repaired, and on th december morgan was able to write to modyford that he had buccaneers, including several hundred french, and thirty-six ships under his command.[ ] upon consideration of the reports brought from the main by his own men, and the testimony of prisoners they had taken, morgan decided that it was impossible to attempt what seems to have been his original design, a descent upon st. jago de cuba, without great loss of men and ships. on nd december, therefore, it was unanimously agreed by a general council of all the captains, thirty-seven in number, "that it stands most for the good of jamaica and safety of us all to take panama, the president thereof having granted several commissions against the english."[ ] six days later the fleet put to sea from cape tiburon, and on the morning of the th sighted providence island. the spanish governor capitulated next day, on condition of being transported with his garrison to the mainland, and four of his soldiers who had formerly been banditti in the province of darien agreed to become guides for the english.[ ] after a delay of five days more, lieutenant-colonel joseph bradley, with between and men in three ships, was sent ahead by morgan to the isthmus to seize the castle of san lorenzo, situated at the mouth of the chagre river. the president of panama, meanwhile, on th december, had received a messenger from the governor of cartagena with news of the coming of the english.[ ] the president immediately dispatched reinforcements to the castle of chagre, which arrived fifteen days before the buccaneers and raised its strength to over men. two hundred men were sent to porto bello, and more were stationed at venta cruz and in ambuscades along the chagre river to oppose the advance of the english. the president himself rose from a bed of sickness to head a reserve of , but most of his men were raw recruits without a professional soldier amongst them. this militia in a few days became so panic-stricken that one-third deserted in a night, and the president was compelled to retire to panama. there the spaniards managed to load some of the treasure upon two or three ships lying in the roadstead; and the nuns and most of the citizens of importance also embarked with their wives, children and personal property.[ ] the fort or castle of san lorenzo, which stood on a hill commanding the river chagre, seems to have been built of double rows of wooden palisades, the space between being filled with earth; and it was protected by a ditch feet deep and by several smaller batteries nearer the water's edge. lieutenant-colonel bradley, who, according to exquemelin, had been on these coasts before with captain mansfield, landed near the fort on the th of december. he and his men fought in the trenches from early afternoon till eight o'clock next morning, when they stormed and carried the place. the buccaneers suffered severely, losing about in killed and wounded, including bradley himself who died ten days later. exquemelin gives a very vivid account of the action. the buccaneers, he writes, "came to anchor in a small port, at the distance of a league more or less from the castle. the next morning very early they went on shore, and marched through the woods, to attack the castle on that side. this march continued until two o'clock, afternoon, by reason of the difficulties of the way, and its mire and dirt. and although their guides served them exactly, notwithstanding they came so nigh the castle at first that they lost many of their men with the shot from the guns, they being in an open place where nothing could cover nor defend them. this much perplexed the pirates ..." (but) "at last after many doubts and disputes among themselves they resolved to hazard the assault and their lives after a most desperate manner. thus they advanced towards the castle, with their swords in one hand and fireballs in the other. the spaniards defended themselves very briskly, ceasing not to fire at them with their great guns and muskets continually crying withal: 'come on, ye english dogs, enemies to god and our king; let your other companions that are behind come on too, ye shall not go to panama this bout.' after the pirates had made some trial to climb up the walls, they were forced to retreat, which they accordingly did, resting themselves until night. this being done, they returned to the assault, to try if by the help of their fireballs they could overcome and pull down the pales before the wall. this they attempted to do, and while they were about it there happened a very remarkable accident, which gave them the opportunity of the victory. one of the pirates was wounded with an arrow in his back, which pierced his body to the other side. this he instantly pulled out with great valour at the side of his breast; then taking a little cotton that he had about him, he wound it about the said arrow, and putting it into his musket, he shot it back into the castle. but the cotton being kindled by the powder, occasioned two or three houses that were within the castle, being thatched with palm-leaves, to take fire, which the spaniards perceived not so soon as was necessary. for this fire meeting with a parcel of powder, blew it up and thereby caused great ruin, and no less consternation to the spaniards, who were not able to account for this accident, not having seen the beginning thereof. "thus the pirates perceiving the good effect of the arrow and the beginning of the misfortune of the spaniards, were infinitely gladdened thereat. and while they were busied in extinguishing the fire, which caused great confusion in the whole castle, having not sufficient water wherewithal to do it, the pirates made use of this opportunity, setting fire likewise to the palisades. thus the fire was seen at the same time in several parts about the castle, which gave them huge advantage against the spaniards. for many breaches were made at once by the fire among the pales, great heaps of earth falling down into the ditch. upon these the pirates climbed up, and got over into the castle, notwithstanding that some spaniards, who were not busied about the fire, cast down upon them many flaming pots, full of combustible matter and odious smells, which occasioned the loss of many of the english. "the spaniards, notwithstanding the great resistance they made, could not hinder the palisades from being entirely burnt before midnight. meanwhile the pirates ceased not to persist in their intention of taking the castle. unto which effect, although the fire was great, they would creep upon the ground, as nigh unto it as they could, and shoot amidst the flames, against the spaniards they could perceive on the other side, and thus cause many to fall dead from the walls. when day was come, they observed all the moveable earth that lay between the pales to be fallen into the ditch in huge quantity. so that now those within the castle did in a manner lie equally exposed to them without, as had been on the contrary before. whereupon the pirates continued shooting very furiously against them, and killed great numbers of spaniards. for the governor had given them orders not to retire from those posts which corresponded to the heaps of earth fallen into the ditch, and caused the artillery to be transported unto the breaches. "notwithstanding, the fire within the castle still continued, and now the pirates from abroad used what means they could to hinder its progress, by shooting incessantly against it. one party of the pirates was employed only to this purpose, and another commanded to watch all the motions of the spaniards, and take all opportunities against them. about noon the english happened to gain a breach, which the governor himself defended with twenty-five soldiers. here was performed a very courageous and warlike resistance by the spaniards, both with muskets, pikes, stones and swords. yet notwithstanding, through all these arms the pirates forced and fought their way, till at last they gained the castle. the spaniards who remained alive cast themselves down from the castle into the sea, choosing rather to die precipitated by their own selves (few or none surviving the fall) than to ask any quarter for their lives. the governor himself retreated unto the corps du garde, before which were placed two pieces of cannon. here he intended still to defend himself, neither would he demand any quarter. but at last he was killed with a musket shot, which pierced his skull into the brain. "the governor being dead, and the corps du garde surrendered, they found still remaining in it alive to the number of thirty men, whereof scarce ten were not wounded. these informed the pirates that eight or nine of their soldiers had deserted their colours, and were gone to panama to carry news of their arrival and invasion. these thirty men alone were remaining of three hundred and fourteen, wherewith the castle was garrisoned, among which number not one officer was found alive. these were all made prisoners, and compelled to tell whatsoever they knew of their designs and enterprises."[ ] five days after the taking of the castle, morgan arrived from providence island with the rest of the armament; but at the entrance to the chagre river, in passing over the bar, his flagship and five or six smaller boats were wrecked, and ten men were drowned. after repairing and provisioning the castle, and leaving men to guard it and the ships, morgan, on th january , at the head of men, began the ascent of the river in seven small vessels and thirty-six canoes.[ ] the story of this brilliant march we will again leave to exquemelin, who took part in it, to relate. the first day "they sailed only six leagues, and came to a place called de los bracos. here a party of his men went on shore, only to sleep some few hours and stretch their limbs, they being almost crippled with lying too much crowded in the boats. after they had rested awhile, they went abroad, to see if any victuals could be found in the neighbouring plantations. but they could find none, the spaniards being fled and carrying with them all the provisions they had. this day, being the first of their journey, there was amongst them such scarcity of victuals that the greatest part were forced to pass with only a pipe of tobacco, without any other refreshment. "the next day, very early in the morning, they continued their journey, and came about evening to a place called cruz de juan gallego. here they were compelled to leave their boats and canoes, by reason the river was very dry for want of rain, and the many obstacles of trees that were fallen into it. the guides told them that about two leagues farther on the country would be very good to continue the journey by land. hereupon they left some companies, being in all one hundred and sixty men,[ ] on board the boats to defend them, with intent they might serve for a place of refuge in case of necessity. "the next morning, being the third day of their journey, they all went ashore, excepting those above-mentioned who were to keep the boats. unto these captain morgan gave very strict orders, under great penalties, that no man, upon any pretext whatsoever, should dare to leave the boats and go ashore. this he did, fearing lest they should be surprised and cut off by an ambuscade of spaniards, that might chance to lie thereabouts in the neighbouring woods, which appeared so thick as to seem almost impenetrable. having this morning begun their march, they found the ways so dirty and irksome, that captain morgan thought it more convenient to transport some of the men in canoes (though it could not be done without great labour) to a place farther up the river, called cedro bueno. thus they re-embarked, and the canoes returned for the rest that were left behind. so that about night they found themselves all together at the said place. the pirates were extremely desirous to meet any spaniards, or indians, hoping to fill their bellies with what provisions they should take from them. for now they were reduced almost to the very extremity of hunger. "on the fourth day, the greatest part of the pirates marched by land, being led by one of the guides. the rest went by water, farther up with the canoes, being conducted by another guide, who always went before them with two of the said canoes, to discover on both sides the river the ambuscades of the spaniards. these had also spies, who were very dextrous, and could at any time give notice of all accidents or of the arrival of the pirates, six hours at least before they came to any place. this day about noon they found themselves nigh unto a post, called torna cavallos. here the guide of the canoes began to cry aloud he perceived an ambuscade. his voice caused infinite joy unto all the pirates, as persuading themselves they should find some provisions wherewith to satiate their hunger, which was very great. being come unto the place, they found nobody in it, the spaniards who were there not long before being every one fled, and leaving nothing behind unless it were a small number of leather bags, all empty, and a few crumbs of bread scattered upon the ground where they had eaten.[ ] being angry at this misfortune, they pulled down a few little huts which the spaniards had made, and afterwards fell to eating the leathern bags, as being desirous to afford something to the ferment of their stomachs, which now was grown so sharp that it did gnaw their very bowels, having nothing else to prey upon. thus they made a huge banquet upon those bags of leather, which doubtless had been more grateful unto them, if divers quarrels had not risen concerning who should have the greatest share. by the circumference of the place they conjectured five hundred spaniards, more or less, had been there. and these, finding no victuals, they were now infinitely desirous to meet, intending to devour some of them rather than perish. whom they would certainly in that occasion have roasted or boiled, to satisfy their famine, had they been able to take them. "after they had feasted themselves with those pieces of leather, they quitted the place, and marched farther on, till they came about night to another post called torna munni. here they found another ambuscade, but as barren and desert as the former. they searched the neighbouring woods, but could not find the least thing to eat. the spaniards having been so provident as not to leave behind them anywhere the least crumb of sustenance, whereby the pirates were now brought to the extremity aforementioned. here again he was happy, that had reserved since noon any small piece of leather whereof to make his supper, drinking after it a good draught of water for his greatest comfort. some persons who never were out of their mothers' kitchens may ask how these pirates could eat, swallow and digest those pieces of leather, so hard and dry. unto whom i only answer: that could they once experiment what hunger, or rather famine, is, they would certainly find the manner, by their own necessity, as the pirates did. for these first took the leather, and sliced it in pieces. then did they beat it between two stones and rub it, often dipping it in the water of the river, to render it by these means supple and tender. lastly they scraped off the hair, and roasted or broiled it upon the fire. and being thus cooked they cut it into small morsels, and eat it, helping it down with frequent gulps of water, which by good fortune they had nigh at hand. "they continued their march the fifth day, and about noon came unto a place called barbacoa. here likewise they found traces of another ambuscade, but the place totally as unprovided as the two precedent were. at a small distance were to be seen several plantations, which they searched very narrowly, but could not find any person, animal or other thing that was capable of relieving their extreme and ravenous hunger. finally, having ranged up and down and searched a long time, they found a certain grotto which seemed to be but lately hewn out of a rock, in which they found two sacks of meal, wheat and like things, with two great jars of wine, and certain fruits called platanos. captain morgan, knowing that some of his men were now, through hunger, reduced almost to the extremity of their lives, and fearing lest the major part should be brought into the same condition, caused all that was found to be distributed amongst them who were in greatest necessity. having refreshed themselves with these victuals, they began to march anew with greater courage than ever. such as could not well go for weakness were put into the canoes, and those commanded to land that were in them before. thus they prosecuted their journey till late at night, at which time they came unto a plantation where they took up their rest. but without eating anything at all; for the spaniards, as before, had swept away all manner of provisions, leaving not behind them the least signs of victuals. "on the sixth day they continued their march, part of them by land through the woods, and part by water in the canoes. howbeit they were constrained to rest themselves very frequently by the way, both for the ruggedness thereof and the extreme weakness they were under. unto this they endeavoured to occur, by eating some leaves of trees and green herbs, or grass, such as they could pick, for such was the miserable condition they were in. this day, at noon, they arrived at a plantation, where they found a barn full of maize. immediately they beat down the doors, and fell to eating of it dry, as much as they could devour. afterwards they distributed great quantity, giving to every man a good allowance thereof. being thus provided they prosecuted their journey, which having continued for the space of an hour or thereabouts, they met with an ambuscade of indians. this they no sooner had discovered, but they threw away their maize, with the sudden hopes they conceived of finding all things in abundance. but after all this haste, they found themselves much deceived, they meeting neither indians nor victuals, nor anything else of what they had imagined. they saw notwithstanding on the other side of the river a troop of a hundred indians more or less, who all escaped away through the agility of their feet. some few pirates there were who leapt into the river, the sooner to reach the shore to see if they could take any of the said indians prisoners. but all was in vain; for being much more nimble on their feet than the pirates they easily baffled their endeavours. neither did they only baffle them, but killed also two or three of the pirates with their arrows, shooting at them at a distance, and crying: 'ha! perros, a la savana, a la savana. ha! ye dogs, go to the plain, go to the plain.' "this day they could advance no further, by reason they were necessitated to pass the river hereabouts to continue their march on the other side. hereupon they took up their repose for that night. howbeit their sleep was not heavy nor profound, for great murmurings were heard that night in the camp, many complaining of captain morgan and his conduct in that enterprise, and being desirous to return home. on the contrary, others would rather die there than go back one step from what they had undertaken. but others who had greater courage than any of these two parties did laugh and joke at all their discourses. in the meanwhile they had a guide who much comforted them, saying: 'it would not now be long before they met with people, from whom they should reap some considerable advantage.' "the seventh day in the morning they all made clean their arms, and every one discharged his pistol or musket without bullet, to examine the security of their firelocks. this being done, they passed to the other side of the river in the canoes, leaving the post where they had rested the night before, called santa cruz. thus they proceeded on their journey till noon, at which time they arrived at a village called cruz.[ ] being at a great distance as yet from the place, they perceived much smoke to arise out of the chimneys. the sight hereof afforded them great joy and hopes of finding people in the town, and afterwards what they most desired, which was plenty of good cheer. thus they went on with as much haste as they could, making several arguments to one another upon those external signs, though all like castles built in the air. 'for,' said they, 'there is smoke coming out of every house, and therefore they are making good fires to roast and boil what we are to eat.' with other things to this purpose. "at length they arrived there in great haste, all sweating and panting, but found no person in the town, nor anything that was eatable wherewith to refresh themselves, unless it were good fires to warm themselves, which they wanted not. for the spaniards before their departure, had every one set fire to his own house, excepting only the storehouses and stables belonging to the king. "they had not left behind them any beast whatsoever, either alive or dead. this occasioned much confusion in their minds, they not finding the least thing to lay hold on, unless it were some few cats and dogs, which they immediately killed and devoured with great appetite. at last in the king's stables they found by good fortune fifteen or sixteen jars of peru wine, and a leather sack full of bread. but no sooner had they begun to drink of the said wine when they fell sick, almost every man. this sudden disaster made them think that the wine was poisoned, which caused a new consternation in the whole camp, as judging themselves now to be irrecoverably lost. but the true reason was, their huge want of sustenance in that whole voyage, and the manifold sorts of trash which they had eaten upon that occasion. their sickness was so great that day as caused them to remain there till the next morning, without being able to prosecute their journey as they used to do, in the afternoon. this village is seated in the latitude in degrees and minutes, northern latitude, being distant from the river of chagre twenty-six spanish leagues, and eight from panama. moreover, this is the last place unto which boats or canoes can come; for which reason they built here store-houses, wherein to keep all sorts of merchandise, which from hence to and from panama are transported upon the backs of mules. "here therefore captain morgan was constrained to leave his canoes and land all his men, though never so weak in their bodies. but lest the canoes should be surprised, or take up too many men for their defence, he resolved to send them all back to the place where the boats were, excepting one, which he caused to be hidden, to the intent it might serve to carry intelligence according to the exigency of affairs. many of the spaniards and indians belonging to this village were fled to the plantations thereabouts. hereupon captain morgan gave express orders that none should dare to go out of the village, except in whole companies of a hundred together. the occasion hereof was his fear lest the enemy should take an advantage upon his men, by any sudden assault. notwithstanding, one party of english soldiers stickled not to contravene these commands, being thereunto tempted with the desire of finding victuals. but these were soon glad to fly into the town again, being assaulted with great fury by some spaniards and indians, who snatched up one of the pirates, and carried him away prisoner. thus the vigilance and care of captain morgan was not sufficient to prevent every accident that might happen. "on the eighth day, in the morning, captain morgan sent two hundred men before the body of his army, to discover the way to panama, and see if they had laid any ambuscades therein. especially considering that the places by which they were to pass were very fit for that purpose, the paths being so narrow that only ten or twelve persons could march in a file, and oftentimes not so many. having marched about the space of ten hours, they came unto a place called quebrada obscura. here, all on a sudden, three or four thousand arrows were shot at them, without being able to perceive from whence they came, or who shot them. the place, from whence it was presumed they were shot was a high rocky mountain, excavated from one side to the other, wherein was a grotto that went through it, only capable of admitting one horse, or other beast laden. this multitude of arrows caused a huge alarm among the pirates, especially because they could not discover the place from whence they were discharged. at last, seeing no more arrows to appear, they marched a little farther, and entered into a wood. here they perceived some indians to fly as fast as they could possible before them, to take the advantage of another post, and thence observe the march of the pirates. there remained, notwithstanding one troop of indians upon the place, with full design to fight and defend themselves. this combat they performed with huge courage, till such time as their captain fell to the ground wounded, who although he was now in despair of life, yet his valour being greater than his strength, would demand no quarter, but, endeavouring to raise himself, with undaunted mind laid hold of his azagaya, or javelin, and struck at one of the pirates. but before he could second the blow, he was shot to death with a pistol. this was also the fate of many of his companions, who like good and courageous soldiers lost their lives with their captain, for the defence of their country. "the pirates endeavoured, as much as was possible, to lay hold on some of the indians and take them prisoners. but they being infinitely swifter than the pirates, every one escaped, leaving eight pirates dead upon the place and ten wounded.[ ] yea, had the indians been more dextrous in military affairs, they might have defended that passage, and not let one sole man to pass. within a little while after they came to a large campaign field open and full of variegated meadows. from here they could perceive at a distance before them a parcel of indians who stood on the top of a mountain, very nigh unto the way by which the pirates were to pass. they sent a troop of fifty men, the nimblest they could pick out, to see if they could catch any of them, and afterwards force them to declare whereabouts their companions had their mansions. but all their industry was in vain, for they escaped through their nimbleness, and presently after showed themselves in another place, hallooing unto the english, and crying: 'a la savana, a la savana, cornudos, perros ingleses;' that is, 'to the plain, to the plain, ye cockolds, ye english dogs!' while these things passed, the ten pirates that were wounded a little before were dressed and plastered up. "at this place there was a wood and on each side thereof a mountain. the indians had possessed themselves of the one, and the pirates took possession of the other that was opposite unto it. captain morgan was persuaded that in the wood the spaniards had placed an ambuscade, as lying so conveniently for that purpose. hereupon he sent before two hundred men to search it. the spaniards and indians, perceiving the pirates to descend the mountain, did so too, as if they designed to attack them. but being got into the wood, out of sight of the pirates, they disappeared, and were seen no more, leaving the passage open unto them. "about night there fell a great rain, which caused the pirates to march the faster and seek everywhere for houses wherein to preserve their arms from being wet. but the indians had set fire to every one thereabouts, and transported all their cattle unto remote places, to the end that the pirates, finding neither houses nor victuals, might be constrained to return homewards. notwithstanding, after diligent search, they found a few little huts belonging to shepherds, but in them nothing to eat. these not being capable of holding many men, they placed in them out of every company a small number, who kept the arms of the rest of the army. those who remained in the open field endured much hardship that night, the rain not ceasing to fall until the morning. "the next morning, about break of day, being the ninth of this tedious journey, captain morgan continued his march while the fresh air of the morning lasted. for the clouds then hanging as yet over their heads were much more favourable unto them than the scorching rays of the sun, by reason the way was now more difficult and laborious than all the precedent. after two hours' march, they discovered a troop of about twenty spaniards. who observed the motions of the pirates. they endeavoured to catch some of them, but could lay hold on none, they suddenly disappearing, and absconding themselves in caves among the rocks, totally unknown to the pirates. at last they came to a high mountain, which, when they ascended, they discovered from the top thereof the south sea. this happy sight, as if it were the end of their labours, caused infinite joy among the pirates. from hence they could descry also one ship and six boats, which were set forth from panama, and sailed towards the islands of tavoga and tavogilla. having descended this mountain, they came unto a vale, in which they found great quantity of cattle, whereof they killed good store. here while some were employed in killing and flaying of cows, horses, bulls and chiefly asses, of which there was greatest number, others busied themselves in kindling of fires and getting wood wherewith to roast them. thus cutting the flesh of these animals into convenient pieces, or gobbets, they threw them into the fire and, half carbonadoed or roasted, they devoured them with incredible haste and appetite. for such was their hunger that they more resembled cannibals than europeans at this banquet, the blood many times running down from their beards to the middle of their bodies. "having satisfied their hunger with these delicious meats, captain morgan ordered them to continue the march. here again he sent before the main body fifty men, with intent to take some prisoners, if possibly they could. for he seemed now to be much concerned that in nine days' time he could not meet one person who might inform him of the condition and forces of the spaniards. about evening they discovered a troop of two hundred spaniards, more or less, who hallooed unto the pirates, but these could not understand what they said. a little while after they came the first time within sight of the highest steeple of panama. this steeple they no sooner had discovered but they began to show signs of extreme joy, casting up their hats into the air, leaping for mirth, and shouting, even just as if they had already obtained the victory and entire accomplishment of their designs. all their trumpets were sounded and every drum beaten, in token of this universal acclamation and huge alacrity of their minds. thus they pitched their camp for that night with general content of the whole army, waiting with impatience for the morning, at which time they intended to attack the city. this evening there appeared fifty horse who came out of the city, hearing the noise of the drums and trumpets of the pirates, to observe, as it was thought, their motions. they came almost within musket-shot of the army, being preceded by a trumpet that sounded marvellously well. those on horseback hallooed aloud unto the pirates, and threatened them, saying, 'perros! nos veremos,' that is, 'ye dogs! we shall meet ye.' having made this menace they returned to the city, excepting only seven or eight horsemen who remained hovering thereabouts, to watch what motions the pirates made. immediately after, the city began to fire and ceased not to play with their biggest guns all night long against the camp, but with little or no harm unto the pirates, whom they could not conveniently reach. about this time also the two hundred spaniards whom the pirates had seen in the afternoon appeared again within sight, making resemblance as if they would block up the passages, to the intent no pirates might escape the hands of their forces. but the pirates, who were now in a manner besieged, instead of conceiving any fear of their blockades, as soon as they had placed sentries about their camp, began every one to open their satchels, and without any preparation of napkins or plates, fell to eating very heartily the remaining pieces of bulls' and horses' flesh which they had reserved since noon. this being done, they laid themselves down to sleep upon the grass with great repose and huge satisfaction, expecting only with impatience for the dawnings of the next day. "on the tenth day, betimes in the morning, they put all their men in convenient order, and with drums and trumpets sounding, continued their march directly towards the city. but one of the guides desired captain morgan not to take the common highway that led thither, fearing lest they should find in it much resistance and many ambuscades. he presently took his advice, and chose another way that went through the wood, although very irksome and difficult. thus the spaniards, perceiving the pirates had taken another way, which they scarce had thought on or believed, were compelled to leave their stops and batteries, and come out to meet them. the governor of panama put his forces in order, consisting of two squadrons, four regiments of foot, and a huge number of wild bulls, which were driven by a great number of indians, with some negroes and others to help them. "the pirates being now upon their march, came unto the top of a little hill, from whence they had a large prospect of the city and campaign country underneath. here they discovered the forces of the people of panama, extended in battle array, which, when they perceived to be so numerous, they were suddenly surprised with great fear, much doubting the fortune of the day. yea, few or none there were but wished themselves at home, or at least free from the obligation of that engagement, wherein they perceived their lives must be so narrowly concerned. having been some time at a stand, in a wavering condition of mind, they at last reflected upon the straits they had brought themselves into, and that now they ought of necessity either to fight resolutely or die, for no quarter could be expected from an enemy against whom they had committed so many cruelties on all occasions. hereupon they encouraged one another, and resolved either to conquer, or spend the very last drop of blood in their bodies. afterwards they divided themselves into three battalions, or troops, sending before them one of two hundred buccaneers, which sort of people are infinitely dextrous at shooting with guns.[ ] thus the pirates left the hill and descended, marching directly towards the spaniards, who were posted in a spacious field, waiting for their coming. as soon as they drew nigh unto them, the spaniards began to shout and cry, 'viva el rey! god save the king!' and immediately their horse began to move against the pirates. but the field being full of quags and very soft under foot, they could not ply to and fro and wheel about, as they desired. the two hundred buccaneers who went before, every one putting one knee to the ground, gave them a full volley of shot, wherewith the battle was instantly kindled very hot. the spaniards defended themselves very courageously, acting all they could possibly perform, to disorder the pirates. their foot, in like manner, endeavoured to second the horse, but were constrained by the pirates to separate from them. thus finding themselves frustrated of their designs, they attempted to drive the bulls against them at their backs, and by this means to put them into disorder. but the greatest part of that wild cattle ran away, being frightened with the noise of the battle. and some few that broke through the english companies did no other harm than to tear the colours in pieces; whereas the buccaneers, shooting them dead, left not one to trouble them thereabouts. "the battle having now continued for the space of two hours, at the end thereof the greatest part of the spanish horse was ruined and almost all killed. the rest fled away. which being perceived by the foot, and that they could not possibly prevail, they discharged the shot they had in their muskets, and throwing them on the ground, betook themselves to flight, every one which way he could run. the pirates could not possibly follow them, as being too much harassed and wearied with the long journey they had lately made. many of them not being able to fly whither they desired, hid themselves for that present among the shrubs of the seaside. but very unfortunately; for most of them being found out by the pirates, were instantly killed, without giving quarter to any.[ ] some religious men were brought prisoners before captain morgan; but he being deaf to their cries and lamentations, commanded them all to be immediately pistoled, which was accordingly done. soon after they brought a captain to his presence, whom he examined very strictly about several things, particularly wherein consisted the forces of those of panama. unto which he answered: their whole strength did consist in four hundred horse, twenty-four companies of foot, each being of one hundred men complete, sixty indians and some negroes, who were to drive two thousand wild bulls and cause them to run over the english camp, and thus by breaking their files put them into a total disorder and confusion.[ ] he discovered more, that in the city they had made trenches and raised batteries in several places, in all which they had placed many guns. and that at the entry of the highway which led to the city they had built a fort, which was mounted with eight great guns of brass and defended by fifty men. "captain morgan, having heard this information, gave orders instantly they should march another way. but before setting forth, he made a review of all his men, whereof he found both killed and wounded a considerable number, and much greater than he had believed. of the spaniards were found six hundred dead upon the place, besides the wounded and prisoners.[ ] the pirates were nothing discouraged, seeing their number so much diminished, but rather filled with greater pride than before, perceiving what huge advantage they had obtained against their enemies. thus having rested themselves some while, they prepared to march courageously towards the city, plighting their oaths to one another in general they would fight till never a man was left alive. with this courage they recommenced their march, either to conquer or be conquered, carrying with them all the prisoners. "they found much difficulty in their approach unto the city. for within the town the spaniards had placed many great guns, at several quarters thereof, some of which were charged with small pieces of iron, and others with musket bullets. with all these they saluted the pirates, at their drawing nigh unto the place, and gave them full and frequent broadsides, firing at them incessantly. whence it came to pass that unavoidably they lost, at every step they advanced, great numbers of men. but neither these manifest dangers of their lives, nor the sight of so many of their own as dropped down continually at their sides, could deter them from advancing farther, and gaining ground every moment upon the enemy. thus, although the spaniards never ceased to fire and act the best they could for their defence, yet notwithstanding they were forced to deliver the city after the space of three hours' combat.[ ] and the pirates, having now possessed themselves thereof, both killed and destroyed as many as attempted to make the least opposition against them. the inhabitants had caused the best of their goods to be transported to more remote and occult places. howbeit they found within the city as yet several warehouses, very well stocked with all sorts of merchandise, as well silks and cloths as linen, and other things of considerable value. as soon as the first fury of their entrance into the city was over, captain morgan assembled all his men at a certain place which he assigned, and there commanded them under very great penalties that none of them should dare to drink or taste any wine. the reason he gave for this injunction was, because he had received private intelligence that it had been all poisoned by the spaniards. howbeit it was the opinion of many he gave these prudent orders to prevent the debauchery of his people, which he foresaw would be very great at the beginning, after so much hunger sustained by the way. fearing withal lest the spaniards, seeing them in wine, should rally their forces and fall upon the city, and use them as inhumanly as they had used the inhabitants before." exquemelin accuses morgan of setting fire to the city and endeavouring to make the world believe that it was done by the spaniards. wm. frogge, however, who was also present, says distinctly that the spaniards fired the town, and sir william godolphin, in a letter from madrid to secretary arlington on nd june , giving news of the exploit which must have come from a spanish source, says that the president of panama left orders that the city if taken should be burnt.[ ] moreover the president of panama himself, in a letter to spain describing the event which was intercepted by the english, admits that not the buccaneers but the slaves and the owners of the houses set fire to the city.[ ] the buccaneers tried in vain to extinguish the flames, and the whole town, which was built mostly of wood, was consumed by twelve o'clock midnight. the only edifices which escaped were the government buildings, a few churches, and about houses in the suburbs. the freebooters remained at panama twenty-eight days seeking plunder and indulging in every variety of excess. excursions were made daily into the country for twenty leagues round about to search for booty, and prisoners were brought in. exquemelin's story of the sack is probably in the main true. in describing the city he writes: "there belonged to this city (which is also the head of a bishopric) eight monasteries, whereof seven were for men and one for women, two stately churches and one hospital. the churches and monasteries were all richly adorned with altar-pieces and paintings, huge quantity of gold and silver, with other precious things; all which the ecclesiastics had hidden and concealed. besides which ornaments, here were to be seen two thousand houses of magnificent and prodigious building, being all or the greatest part inhabited by merchants of that country, who are vastly rich. for the rest of the inhabitants of lesser quality and tradesmen, this city contained five thousand houses more. here were also great numbers of stables, which served for the horses and mules, that carry all the plate, belonging as well unto the king of spain as to private men, towards the coast of the north sea. the neighbouring fields belonging to this city are all cultivated with fertile plantations and pleasant gardens, which afford delicious prospects unto the inhabitants the whole year long."[ ] the day after the capture, continues exquemelin, "captain morgan dispatched away two troops of pirates of one hundred and fifty men each, being all very stout soldiers and well armed with orders to seek for the inhabitants of panama who were escaped from the hands of their enemies. these men, having made several excursions up and down the campaign fields, woods and mountains, adjoining to panama, returned after two days' time bringing with them above prisoners, between men, women and slaves. the same day returned also the boat ... which captain morgan had sent into the south sea, bringing with her three other boats, which they had taken in a little while. but all these prizes they could willingly have given, yea, although they had employed greater labour into the bargain, for one certain galleon, which miraculously escaped their industry, being very richly laden with all the king's plate and great quantity of riches of gold, pearl, jewels and other most precious goods, of all of the best and richest merchants of panama. on board of this galleon were also the religious women, belonging to the nunnery of the said city, who had embarked with them all the ornaments of their church, consisting in great quantity of gold, plate, and other things of great value.... "notwithstanding the pirates found in the ports of the islands of tavoga and tavogilla several boats that were laden with many sorts of very good merchandise; all which they took and brought unto panama; where being arrived, they made an exact relation of all that had passed while they were abroad to captain morgan. the prisoners confirmed what the pirates had said, adding thereto, that they undoubtedly knew whereabouts the said galleon might be at that present, but that it was very probable they had been relieved before now from other places. these relations stirred up captain morgan anew to send forth all the boats that were in the port of panama, with design to seek and pursue the said galleon till they could find her. the boats aforesaid being in all four, set sail from panama, and having spent eight days in cruising to and fro, and searching several ports and creeks, they lost all their hopes of finding what they so earnestly sought for. hereupon they resolved to return unto the isles of tavoga and tavogilla. here they found a reasonable good ship, that was newly come from payta, being laden with cloth, soap, sugar and biscuit, with twenty thousand pieces of eight in ready money. this vessel they instantly seized, not finding the least resistance from any person within her. nigh unto the said ship was also a boat whereof in like manner they possessed themselves. upon the boat they laded great part of the merchandises they had found in the ship, together with some slaves they had taken in the said islands. with this purchase they returned to panama, something better satisfied of their voyage, yet withal much discontented they could not meet with the galleon.... "captain morgan used to send forth daily parties of two hundred men, to make inroads into all the fields and country thereabouts, and when one party came back, another consisting of two hundred more was ready to go forth. by this means they gathered in a short time huge quantity of riches, and no lesser number of prisoners. these being brought into the city, were presently put unto the most exquisite tortures imaginable, to make them confess both other people's goods and their own. here it happened, that one poor and miserable wretch was found in the house of a gentleman of great quality, who had put on, amidst that confusion of things, a pair of taffety breeches belonging to his master with a little silver key hanging at the strings thereof. this being perceived by the pirates they immediately asked him where was the cabinet of the said key? his answer was: he knew not what was become of it, but only that finding those breeches in his master's house, he had made bold to wear them. not being able to extort any other confession out of him, they first put him upon the rack, wherewith they inhumanly disjointed his arms. after this they twisted a cord about his forehead, which they wrung so hard, that his eyes appeared as big as eggs, and were ready to fall out of his skull. but neither with these torments could they obtain any positive answer to their demands. whereupon they soon after hung him up, giving him infinite blows and stripes, while he was under that intolerable pain and posture of body. afterwards they cut off his nose and ears, and singed his face with burning straw, till he could speak nor lament his misery no longer. then losing all hopes of hearing any confession from his mouth, they commanded a negro to run him through with a lance, which put an end to his life and a period to their cruel and inhuman tortures. after this execrable manner did many others of those miserable prisoners finish their days, the common sport and recreation of these pirates being these and other tragedies not inferior to these. "they spared in these their cruelties no sex nor condition whatsoever. for as to religious persons and priests, they granted them less quarter than unto others, unless they could produce a considerable sum of money, capable of being a sufficient ransom. women themselves were no better used ... and captain morgan, their leader and commander, gave them no good example in this point....[ ] "captain morgan having now been at panama the full space of three weeks, commanded all things to be put in order for his departure. unto this effect he gave orders to every company of his men, to seek out for so many beasts of carriage as might suffice to convey the whole spoil of the city unto the river where his canoes lay. about this time a great rumour was spread in the city, of a considerable number of pirates who intended to leave captain morgan; and that, by taking a ship which was in the port, they determined to go and rob upon the south sea till they had got as much as they thought fit, and then return homewards by the way of the east indies into europe. for which purpose they had already gathered great quantity of provisions which they had hidden in private places, with sufficient store of powder, bullets and all other sorts of ammunition; likewise some great guns belonging to the town, muskets and other things, wherewith they designed not only to equip the said vessel but also to fortify themselves and raise batteries in some island or other, which might serve them for a place of refuge. "this design had certainly taken effect as they intended, had not captain morgan had timely advice thereof given him by one of their comrades. hereupon he instantly commanded the mainmast of the said ship should be cut down and burnt, together with all the other boats that were in the port. hereby the intentions of all or most of his companions were totally frustrated. after this captain morgan sent forth many of the spaniards into the adjoining fields and country, to seek for money wherewith to ransom not only themselves but also all the rest of the prisoners, as likewise the ecclesiastics, both secular and regular. moreover, he commanded all the artillery of the town to be spoiled, that is to say, nailed and stopped up. at the same time he sent out a strong company of men to seek for the governor of panama, of whom intelligence was brought that he had laid several ambuscades in the way, by which he ought to pass at his return. but those who were sent upon this design returned soon after, saying they had not found any sign or appearance of any such ambuscades. for a confirmation whereof they brought with them some prisoners they had taken, who declared how that the said governor had had an intention of making some opposition by the way, but that the men whom he had designed to effect it were unwilling to undertake any such enterprise; so that for want of means he could not put his design into execution.[ ] "on the th of february of the year ,[ ] captain morgan departed from the city of panama, or rather from the place where the said city of panama did stand. of the spoils whereof he carried with him one hundred and seventy-five beasts of carriage, laden with silver, gold and other precious things, besides prisoners, more or less, between men, women, children and slaves. that day they came unto a river that passeth through a delicious campaign field, at the distance of a league from panama. here captain morgan put all his forces into good order of martial array in such manner that the prisoners were in the middle of the camp, surrounded on all sides with pirates. at which present conjuncture nothing else was to be heard but lamentations, cries, shrieks and doleful sighs, of so many women and children, who were persuaded captain morgan designed to transport them all, and carry them into his own country for slaves. besides that, among all those miserable prisoners, there was extreme hunger and thirst endured at that time. which hardship and misery captain morgan designedly caused them to sustain, with intent to excite them more earnestly to seek for money wherewith to ransom themselves, according to the tax he had set upon every one. many of the women begged of captain morgan upon their knees, with infinite sighs and tears, he would permit them to return unto panama, there to live in company of their dear husbands and children, in little huts of straw which they would erect, seeing they had no houses until the rebuilding of the city. but his answer was: he came not thither to hear lamentations and cries, but rather to seek money. therefore, they ought to seek out for that in the first place, wherever it were to be had, and bring it to him, otherwise he would assuredly transport them all to such places whither they cared not to go.... "as soon as captain morgan arrived, upon his march, at the town called cruz, seated on the banks of the river chagre, as was mentioned before, he commanded an order to be published among the prisoners, that within the space of three days every one of them should bring in their ransom, under the penalty aforementioned, of being transported unto jamaica. in the meanwhile he gave orders for so much rice and maize to be collected thereabouts as was necessary for the victualling all his ships. at this place some of the prisoners were ransomed, but many others could not bring in their moneys in so short a time. hereupon he continued his voyage ... carrying with him all the spoil that ever he could transport. from this village he likewise led away some new prisoners, who were inhabitants of the said place. so that these prisoners were added to those of panama who had not as yet paid their ransoms, and all transported.... about the middle of the way unto the castle of chagre, captain morgan commanded them to be placed in due order, according to their custom, and caused every one to be sworn, that they had reserved nor concealed nothing privately to themselves, even not so much as the value of sixpence. this being done, captain morgan having had some experience that those lewd fellows would not much stickle to swear falsely in points of interest, he commanded them every one to be searched very strictly, both in their clothes and satchels and everywhere it might be presumed they had reserved anything. yea, to the intent this order might not be ill taken by his companions, he permitted himself to be searched, even to the very soles of his shoes. to this effect by common consent, there was assigned one out of every company to be the searchers of all the rest. the french pirates that went on this expedition with captain morgan were not well satisfied with this new custom of searching. yet their number being less than that of the english, they were forced to submit unto it, as well as the others had done before them. the search being over, they re-embarked in their canoes and boats, which attended them on the river, and arrived at the castle of chagre.[ ] ... here they found all things in good order, excepting the wounded men, whom they had left there at the time of their departure. for of these the greatest number were dead, through the wounds they had received. "from chagre, captain morgan sent presently after his arrival, a great boat unto porto bello, wherein were all the prisoners he had taken at the isle of st. catherine, demanding by them a considerable ransom for the castle of chagre, where he then was, threatening otherwise to ruin and demolish it even to the ground. to this message those of porto bello made answer: they would not give one farthing towards the ransom of the said castle, and that the english might do with it as they pleased. this answer being come, the dividend was made of all the spoil they had purchased in that voyage. thus every company and every particular person therein included received their portion of what was gotten; or rather what part thereof captain morgan was pleased to give them. for so it was, that the rest of his companions, even of his own nation, complained of his proceedings in this particular, and feared not to tell him openly to his face, that he had reserved the best jewels to himself. for they judged it impossible that no greater share should belong unto them than two hundred pieces of eight per capita, of so many valuable purchases and robberies as they had obtained. which small sum they thought too little reward for so much labour and such huge and manifest dangers as they had so often exposed their lives unto. but captain morgan was deaf to all these and many other complaints of this kind, having designed in his mind to cheat them of as much as he could."[ ] on th march , morgan, after demolishing the fort and other edifices at chagre and spiking all the guns, got secretly on board his own ship, if we are to believe exquemelin, and followed by only three or four vessels of the fleet, returned to port royal. the rest of the fleet scattered, most of the ships having "much ado to find sufficient victuals and provisions for their voyage to jamaica." at the end of august not more than ten vessels of the original thirty-six had made their way back to the english colony. morgan, with very inadequate means, accomplished a feat which had been the dream of drake and other english sailors for a century or more, and which admiral vernon in with a much greater armament feared even to attempt. for display of remarkable leadership and reckless bravery the expedition against panama has never been surpassed. its brilliance was only clouded by the cruelty and rapacity of the victors--a force levied without pay and little discipline, and unrestrained, if not encouraged, in brutality by morgan himself. exquemelin's accusation against morgan, of avarice and dishonesty in the division of the spoil amongst his followers, is, unfortunately for the admiral's reputation, too well substantiated. richard browne, the surgeon-general of the fleet, estimated the plunder at over £ , "besides other rich goods," of which the soldiers were miserably cheated, each man receiving but £ as his share. at chagre, he writes, the leaders gave what they pleased "for which ... we must be content or else be clapped in irons." the wronged seamen were loud in their complaints against morgan, collier and the other captains for starving, cheating and deserting them; but so long as modyford was governor they could obtain no redress. the commanders "dared but seldom appear," writes browne, "the widows, orphans and injured inhabitants who had so freely advanced upon the hopes of a glorious design, being now ruined through fitting out the privateers."[ ] the spaniards reckoned their whole loss at , , crowns.[ ] on st may , the council of jamaica extended a vote of thanks to morgan for the execution of his late commission, and formally expressed their approval of the manner in which he had conducted himself.[ ] there can be no question but that the governor had full knowledge of morgan's intentions before the fleet sailed from cape tiburon. after the decision of the council of officers on nd december to attack panama, a boat was dispatched to jamaica to inform modyford, and in a letter written to morgan ten days after the arrival of the vessel the governor gave no countermand to the decision.[ ] doubtless the defence made, that the governor and council were trying to forestall an impending invasion of jamaica by the spaniards, was sincere. but it is also very probable that they were in part deceived into this belief by morgan and his followers, who made it their first object to get prisoners, and obtain from them by force a confession that at cartagena, porto bello or some other spanish maritime port the spaniards were mustering men and fitting a fleet to invade the island. by a strange irony of fate, on th- th july a treaty was concluded at madrid by sir william godolphin for "composing differences, restraining depredations and establishing peace" in america. no trading privileges in the west indies were granted by either crown, but the king of spain acknowledged the sovereignty of the king of england over all islands, colonies, etc., in america then in possession of the english, and the ships of either nation, in case of distress, were to have entertainment and aid in the ports of the other. the treaty was to be published in the west indies simultaneously by english and spanish governors within eight months after its ratification.[ ] in may of the following year, a messenger from san domingo arrived in port royal with a copy of the articles of peace, to propose that a day be fixed for their publication, and to offer an exchange of prisoners,[ ] modyford had as yet received no official notice from england of the treaty, and might with justice complain to the authorities at home of their neglect.[ ] shortly after, however, a new governor came to relieve him of further responsibility. charles ii. had probably placated the spanish ambassador in by promising the removal of modyford and the dispatch of another governor well-disposed to the spaniards.[ ] at any rate, a commission was issued in september , appointing colonel thomas lynch lieutenant-governor of jamaica, to command there in the "want, absence or disability" of the governor;[ ] and on th january following, in spite of a petition of the officers, freeholders and inhabitants of jamaica in favour of modyford,[ ] the commission of the governor was revoked.[ ] lynch arrived in jamaica on th june with instructions, as soon as he had possession of the government and forts, to arrest sir thomas modyford and send him home under guard to answer charges laid against him.[ ] fearing to exasperate the friends of the old governor, lynch hesitated to carry out his instructions until th august, when he invited modyford on board the frigate "assistance," with several members of the council, and produced the royal orders for his arrest. lynch assured him, however, that his life and fortune were not in danger, the proceeding being merely a sop to the indignant spaniards.[ ] modyford arrived in england in november, and on the th of the month was committed to the tower.[ ] the indignation of the spaniards, when the news of the sack of panama reached spain, rose to a white heat. "it is impossible for me to paint to your lordship," wrote godolphin to lord arlington, "the face of madrid upon the news of this action ... nor to what degree of indignation the queen and ministers of state, the particular councils and all sorts of people here, have taken it to heart."[ ] it seems that the ambassador or the spanish consul in london had written to madrid that this last expedition was made by private intimation, if not orders, from london, and that godolphin had been commanded to provide in the treaty for a long term before publication, so as to give time for the execution of the design. against these falsehoods the english ambassador found it difficult to make headway, although he assured the queen of the immediate punishment of the perpetrators, and the arrest and recall of the governor of jamaica. only by the greatest tact and prudence was he able to stave off, until an official disavowal of the expedition came from england, an immediate embargo on all the goods of english merchants in spain. the spanish government decided to send a fleet of , men with all speed to the indies; and the dukes of albuquerque and medina coeli vied with each other in offering to raise the men at their own charge from among their own vassals. after godolphin had presented his official assurance to the queen, however, nothing more was heard of this armament. "god grant," wrote the english ambassador, "that sir thomas modyford's way of defending jamaica (as he used to call it) by sending out the forces thereof to pillage, prove an infallible one; for my own part, i do not think it hath been our interest to awaken the spaniards so much as this last action hath done."[ ] footnotes: [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. and . dated th and th february respectively.] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. and .] [footnote : ibid., nos. and .] [footnote : ibid., no. ; beeston's journal.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. ; c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; _cf._ also no. , and lyttleton's report, no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , ; beeston's journal. for disputes over the cargo of the spanish prize captured by williams, _cf._ c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : add. mss., , , pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; _cf._ also add. mss., , , f. :--"mr. worseley's discourse of the privateers of jamaica."] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. vii. pp. - .] [footnote : for the biography of jean-david nau, surnamed l'olonnais, _cf._ nouvelle biographie générale, t. xxxviii. p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , pp. , , .] [footnote : ibid., pp. , , .] [footnote : ibid., p. ; egerton mss., , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; _cf._ also nos. , , . from orders contained in the mss. of the marquis of ormonde issued on petitions of convicted prisoners, we find that reprieves were often granted on condition of their making arrangements for their own transportation for life to the west indies, without expense to the government. the condemned were permitted to leave the gaols in which they were confined and embark immediately, on showing that they had agreed with a sea-captain to act as his servant, both during the voyage and after their arrival. the captains were obliged to give bond for the safe transportation of the criminals, and the latter were also to find security that they would not return to the british isles without license, on pain of receiving the punishment from which they had been originally reprieved. (hist. mss. comm. rept. x., pt. , pp. , , , ). _cf._ also c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , - , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. . there were really nine ships and men. cf. _ibid._, no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. , i. lieutenant-colonel thomas morgan (not to be confused with colonel edward morgan), who was left in command of st. eustatius and saba, went in april with a company of buccaneers to the assistance of governor watts of st. kitts against the french. in the rather shameful defence of the english part of the island morgan's buccaneers were the only english who displayed any courage or discipline, and most of them were killed or wounded, colonel morgan himself being shot in both legs. (ibid., nos. , , , , .) st. eustatius was reconquered by a french force from st. kitts in the early part of . (ibid., no. .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. . stedman was later in the year, after the outbreak of war with france, captured by a french frigate off guadeloupe. with a small vessel and only men he found himself becalmed and unable to escape, so he boldly boarded the frenchman in buccaneer fashion and fought for two hours, but was finally overcome. (ibid., no. .)] [footnote : ibid., no. ; beeston's journal. mansfield was the buccaneer whom exquemelin disguises under the name of "mansvelt."] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. , slightly condensed from the original.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , . the governor of havana wrote concerning this same exploit, that on christmas eve of the english entered and sacked the town of cayo in the jurisdiction of havana, and meeting with a vessel having on board twenty-two spaniards who were inhabitants of the town, put them all to the sword, cutting them to pieces with hangers. afterwards they sailed to the town of bayamo with thirteen vessels and men, but altering their plans, went to sancti spiritus, landed , plundered the town, cruelly treated both men and women, burnt the best houses, and wrecked and desecrated the church in which they had made their quarters. (s.p. spain, vol. , f. .) col. beeston says that mansfield conducted the raid; but according to the spanish account to which duro had access, the leader was pierre legrand. (duro, _op. cit._, v. p. ).] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; beeston's journal. beeston reports that after a six weeks' search for mansfield and his men he failed to find them and returned to jamaica.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : exquemelin, however, says that he had men. if he attacked providence island with only he must have received reinforcements later.] [footnote : duro, _op. cit._, v. p. ; s.p. spain, vol. , f. . the accounts that have come down to us of this expedition are obscure and contradictory. modyford writes of the exploit merely that "they landed men at cape blanco, in the kingdom of veragua, and marched miles into that country to surprise its chief city, cartago; but understanding that the inhabitants had carried away their wealth, returned to their ships without being challenged." (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .) according to exquemelin the original goal of the buccaneers was the town of nata, north of panama. the spanish accounts make the numbers of the invaders much greater, from to .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , . the capture of providence island was mansfield's last exploit. according to a deposition found among the colonial papers, he and his ship were later captured by the spaniards and carried to havana where the old buccaneer was put in irons and soon after executed. (ibid., no. .) exquemelin says that mansfield, having been refused sufficient aid by modyford for the defence of providence, went to seek assistance at tortuga, when "death suddenly surprised him and put a period to his wicked life."] [footnote : exquemelin refers to a voyage of henry morgan to campeache at about this time, and says that he afterwards accompanied mansfield as his "vice-admiral." there were at least three morgans then in the west indies, but colonel edward and lieutenant-colonel thomas were at this time doubtless busy preparing the armament against curaçao.] [footnote : "villa de mosa is a small town standing on the starboard side of the river ... inhabited chiefly by indians, with some spaniards.... thus far ships come to bring goods, especially european commodities.... they arrive here in november or december, and stay till june or july, selling their commodities, and then load chiefly with cacao and some sylvester. all the merchants and petty traders of the country towns come thither about christmas to traffick, which makes this town the chiefest in all these parts, campeache excepted."--dampier, _ed._ , ii. p. . the town was twelve leagues from the river's mouth.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; beeston's journal, th august . the viceroy of new spain, in a letter of th march , reports the coming, in february, of english in three ships to tabasco, but gives the name of the plundered town as santa marta de la vitoria. according to his story, the buccaneers seized royal treasure amounting to , pieces of eight, besides ammunition and slaves. (s.p. spain, vol. , f. .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , ; exquemelin, _ed._ , part ii. pp. - .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vols. - . correspondence of sir richard fanshaw.] [footnote : ibid., vol. , f. .] [footnote : ibid., vol. , f. .] [footnote : ibid., vol. , f. ; record office, treaties, etc., .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. . there was probably some disagreement in the council in england over the policy to be pursued toward the buccaneers. on st august modyford wrote to albemarle: "sir james modyford will present his grace with a copy of some orders made at oxford, in behalf of some spaniards, with lord arlington's letter thereon; in which are such strong inculcations of continuing friendship with the spaniards here, that he doubts he shall be highly discanted on by some persons for granting commissions against them; must beg his grace to bring him off, or at least that the necessity of this proceeding may be taken into serious debate and then doubts not but true english judges will confirm what he has done." on the other hand he writes to arlington on th july : "had my abilities suited so well with my wishes as the latter did with your lordship's, the privateers' attempts had been only practised on the dutch and french, and the spaniards free of them, but i had no money to pay them nor frigates to force them; the former they could not get from our declared enemies, nothing could they expect but blows from them, and (as they have often repeated to me) will that pay for new sails and rigging?... (but) will, suitable to your lordship's directions, as far as i am able, restrain them from further acts of violence towards the spaniards, unless provoked by new insolences." yet in the following december the governor tells albemarle that he has not altered his posture, nor does he intend until further orders. it seems clear that arlington and albemarle represented two opposite sets of opinion in the council.] [footnote : on st december , morgan in a deposition before the council of jamaica gave his age as thirty-six years. (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; exquemelin, _ed._ , part ii., pp. - . according to exquemelin the first design of the freebooters had been to cross the island of cuba in its narrowest part and fall upon havana. but on receiving advice that the governor had taken measures to defend and provision the city, they changed their minds and marched to puerto principe.] [footnote : the city of porto bello with its large commodious harbour afforded a good anchorage and shelter for the annual treasure galleons. the narrow entrance was secured by the two forts mentioned in the narrative, the st. jago on the left entering the harbour, and the san felipe on the right; and within the port was a third called the san miguel. the town lay at the bottom of the harbour bending round the shore like a half-moon. it was built on low swampy ground and had no walls or defences on the land side. (_cf._ the descriptions of wafer and gage.) the garrison at this time probably did not exceed men.] [footnote : this statement is confirmed by one of the captains serving under morgan, who in his account of the expedition says: "after remaining some days ... sickness broke out among the troops, of which we lost half by sickness and fighting." (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .) and in "the present state of jamaica, ," we read that morgan brought to the island the plague "that killed my lady modyford and others."] [footnote : morgan reported, however, that the ransom was offered and paid by the president of panama. (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : exquemelin, _ed._ , part ii. pp. - . the cruelties of the buccaneers at porto bello are confirmed by a letter from john style to the secretary of state, complaining of the disorder and injustice reigning in jamaica. he writes: "it is a common thing among the privateers, besides burning with matches and such like slight torments, to cut a man in pieces, first some flesh, then a hand, an arm, a leg, sometimes tying a cord about his head and with a stick twisting it till the eyes shot out, which is called 'woolding.' before taking puerto bello, thus some were used, because they refused to discover a way into the town which was not, and many in the town because they would not discover wealth they knew not of. a woman there was by some set bare upon a baking stone and roasted because she did not confess of money which she had only in their conceit; this he heard some declare with boasting, and one that was sick confess with sorrow." (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .) modyford writes concerning the booty got at porto bello, that the business cleared each privateer £ , and "to himself they gave only £ for their commission, which never exceeded £ ." (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .) but it is very probable that the buccaneers did not return a full account of the booty to the governor, for it was a common complaint that they plundered their prizes and hid the spoil in holes and creeks along the coast so as to cheat the government of its tenths and fifteenths levied on all condemned prize-goods.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. ; beeston's journal, th october .] [footnote : ibid., c.s.p. colon., - , addenda, no. .] [footnote : exquemelin gives a french version of the episode, according to which the commander of the "cour volant" had given bills of exchange upon jamaica and tortuga for the provisions he had taken out of the english ship; but morgan, because he could not prevail on the french captain to join his proposed expedition, used this merely as a pretext to seize the ship for piracy. the "cour volant," turned into a privateer and called the "satisfaction," was used by morgan as his flagship in the expedition against panama.] [footnote : according to exquemelin the booty amounted to , crowns in money and jewels, besides merchandise and slaves. modyford, however, wrote that the buccaneers received only £ per man.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; s.p. spain, vol. , f. ; vol. , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. . in the consejo de almirantazgo of flanders had offered the government to send its frigates to the indies to pursue and punish the buccaneers, and protect the coasts of spanish america; and in similar proposals were made by the "armadores" or owners of corsairing vessels in the seaport towns of biscay. both offers were refused, however, because the government feared that such privileges would lead to commercial abuses infringing on the monopoly of the seville merchants. duro, _op. cit._, v. p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , - , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - ; nos. , , ; exquemelin, _ed._ , pt. iii. pp. - ; add. mss., , , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , ff. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; add. mss., , , f. . the spaniards estimated their loss at , pieces of eight. (add. mss. , , f. .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , . in a report sent by governor modyford to england (_ibid._, no. , i.) we find a list of the vessels under command of henry morgan, with the name, captain, tonnage, guns and crew of each ship. there were twenty-eight english vessels of from to tons and from zero to guns, carrying from to men; the french vessels were eight in number, of from to tons, with from to guns, and carrying from to men.] [footnote : ibid., no. . according to exquemelin, before the fleet sailed all the officers signed articles regulating the disposal of the booty. it was stipulated that admiral morgan should have the hundredth part of all the plunder, "that every captain should draw the shares of eight men, for the expenses of his ship, besides his own; that the surgeon besides his ordinary pay should have two hundred pieces of eight, for his chest of medicaments; and every carpenter above his ordinary salary, should draw one hundred pieces of eight. as to recompenses and rewards they were regulated in this voyage much higher than was expressed in the first part of this book. for the loss of both legs they assigned one thousand five hundred pieces of eight or fifteen slaves, the choice being left to the election of the party; for the loss of both hands, one thousand eight hundred pieces of eight or eighteen slaves; for one leg, whether the right or left, six hundred pieces of eight or six slaves; for a hand as much as for a leg, and for the loss of an eye, one hundred pieces of eight or one slave. lastly, unto him that in any battle should signalize himself, either by entering the first any castle, or taking down the spanish colours and setting up the english, they constituted fifty pieces of eight for a reward. in the head of these articles it was stipulated that all these extraordinary salaries, recompenses and rewards should be paid out of the first spoil or purchase they should take, according as every one should then occur to be either rewarded or paid."] [footnote : sir james modyford, who, after the capture of providence by mansfield in , had been commissioned by the king as lieutenant-governor of the island, now bestirred himself, and in may appointed colonel blodre morgan (who commanded the rear-guard at the battle of panama) to go as deputy-governor and take possession. modyford himself intended to follow with some settlers shortly after, but the attempt at colonization seems to have failed. (c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .)] [footnote : add. mss., , , f. _ff._; _ibid._, , , f. - .] [footnote : ibid., , , f. _ff._; s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : exquemelin, _ed._ , part iii. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. . exquemelin says that there were men, five boats with artillery and thirty-two canoes.] [footnote : morgan's report makes it men. (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : morgan says: "the enemy had basely quitted the first entrenchment and set all on fire, as they did all the rest, without striking a stroke." the president of panama also writes that the garrisons up the river, on receiving news of the fall of chagre, were in a panic, the commanders forsaking their posts and retiring in all haste to venta cruz. (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : exquemelin makes the buccaneers arrive at venta cruz on the seventh day. according to morgan they reached the village on the sixth day, and according to frogge on the fifth. morgan reports that two miles from venta cruz there was "a very narrow and dangerous passage where the enemy thought to put a stop to our further proceeding but were presently routed by the forlorn commanded by capt. thomas rogers."] [footnote : frogge says that after leaving venta cruz they came upon an ambuscade of indians, but put them to flight with the loss of only one killed and two wounded, the indians losing their chief and about thirty men. (s.p. spain, vol. , f. .) morgan reports three killed and six or seven wounded.] [footnote : "next morning drew up his men in the form of a tertia, the vanguard led by lieutenant-colonel lawrence prince and major john morris, in number , the main body , the right wing led by himself, the left by colonel edw. collyer, the rearguard of commanded by colonel bledry morgan."--morgan's report. (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : the close agreement between the accounts of the battle given by morgan and exquemelin is remarkable, and leads us to give much greater credence to those details in exquemelin's narrative of the expedition which were omitted from the official report. morgan says of the battle that as the spaniards had the advantage of position and refused to move, the buccaneers made a flanking movement to the left and secured a hill protected on one side by a bog. thereupon "one francesco de harro charged with the horse upon the vanguard so furiously that he could not be stopped till he lost his life; upon which the horse wheeled off, and the foot advanced, but met with such a warm welcome and were pursued so close that the enemies' retreat came to plain running, though they did work such a stratagem as has been seldom heard of, viz.:--attempting to drive two droves of cattle into their rear." (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : morgan gives the number of spaniards at foot and horse, and frogge reports substantially the same figures. the president of panama, however, in his letter to the queen, writes that he had but men, mostly negroes, mulattos and indians, besides slaves of the assiento. his followers, he continues, were armed only with arquebuses and fowling-pieces, and his artillery consisted of three wooden guns bound with hide.] [footnote : according to frogge the spaniards lost men in the battle, the buccaneers but one frenchman. morgan says that the whole day's work only cost him five men killed and ten wounded, and that the loss of the enemy was about .] [footnote : "in the city they had fresh men, two forts, all the streets barricaded and great guns in every street, which in all amounted to thirty-two brass guns, but instead of fighting commanded it to be fired, and blew up the chief fort, which was done in such haste that forty of their own soldiers were blown up. in the market-place some resistance was made, but at three o'clock they had quiet possession of the city...."--morgan's report.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : after the destruction of panama in , the old city was deserted by the spaniards, and the present town raised on a site several miles to the westward, where there was a better anchorage and landing facilities.] [footnote : the incident of morgan and the spanish lady i have omitted because it is so contrary to the testimony of richard browne (who if anything was prejudiced against morgan) that "as to their women, i know or ever heard of anything offered beyond their wills; something i know was cruelly executed by captain collier in killing a friar in the field after quarter given; but for the admiral he was noble enough to the vanquished enemy." (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : the president had retired north to nata de los santos, and thence sent couriers with an account of what had happened over darien to cartagena, whence the news was forwarded by express boat to spain. (s.p. spain, vol. , f. ). that the president made efforts to raise men to oppose the retreat of the buccaneers, but received no support from the inhabitants, is proved by spanish documents in add. mss., , , ff. , , etc.] [footnote : the president of panama in his account contained in add. mss. , , gives the date as th february. morgan, however, says that they began the march for venta cruz on th february; but this discrepancy may be due to a confusion of the old and new style of dating.] [footnote : the buccaneers arrived at chagre on th february.--morgan's account.] [footnote : exquemelin, _ed._ , part iii. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. . wm. frogge, too, says that the share of each man was only £ .] [footnote : add. mss., , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. , i.] [footnote : ibid., no. , ii.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. ; vol. , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , ; beeston's journal.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : _cf._ memorial of the conde de molina complaining that a new governor had not been sent to jamaica, as promised, nor the old governor recalled, th feb. (s.p. spain, vol. , f. ).] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] chapter vi the government suppresses the buccaneers the new lieutenant-governor of jamaica, sir thomas lynch, brought with him instructions to publish and carefully observe the articles of with spain, and at the same time to revoke all commissions issued by his predecessor "to the prejudice of the king of spain or any of his subjects." when he proclaimed the peace he was likewise to publish a general pardon to privateers who came in and submitted within a reasonable time, of all offences committed since june , assuring to them the possession of their prize-goods (except the tenths and the fifteenths which were always reserved to the crown as a condition of granting commissions), and offering them inducements to take up planting, trade, or service in the royal navy. but he was not to insist positively on the payment of the tenths and fifteenths if it discouraged their submission; and if this course failed to bring in the rovers, he was to use every means in his power "by force or persuasion" to make them submit.[ ] lynch immediately set about to secure the good-will of his spanish neighbours and to win back the privateers to more peaceful pursuits. major beeston was sent to cartagena with the articles of peace, where he was given every satisfaction and secured the release of thirty-two english prisoners.[ ] on the th august the proclamation of pardon to privateers was issued at port royal;[ ] and those who had railed against their commanders for cheating them at panama, were given an opportunity of resorting to the law-courts.[ ] similar proclamations were sent by the governor "to all their haunts," intimating that he had written to bermuda, the caribbees, new england, new york and virginia for their apprehension, had sent notices to all spanish ports declaring them pirates, and intended to send to tortuga to prevent their reception there.[ ] however, although the governor wrote home in the latter part of the month that the privateers were entirely suppressed, he soon found that the task was by no means a simple one. two buccaneers with a commission from modyford, an englishman named thurston and a mulatto named diego, flouted his offer of pardon, continued to prey upon spanish shipping, and carried their prizes to tortuga.[ ] a dutchman named captain yallahs (or yellowes) fled to campeache, sold his frigate for pieces of eight to the spanish governor, and entered into spanish service to cruise against the english logwood-cutters. the governor of jamaica sent captain wilgress in pursuit, but wilgress devoted his time to chasing a spanish vessel ashore, stealing logwood and burning spanish houses on the coast.[ ] a party of buccaneers, english and french, landed upon the north side of cuba and burnt two towns, carrying away women and inflicting many cruelties on the inhabitants; and when the governors of havana and st. jago complained to lynch, the latter could only disavow the english in the marauding party as rebels and pirates, and bid the spanish governors hang all who fell into their power.[ ] the governor, in fact, was having his hands full, and wrote in january that "this cursed trade has been so long followed, and there is so many of it, that like weeds or hydras, they spring up as fast as we can cut them down."[ ] some of the recalcitrant freebooters, however, were captured and brought to justice. major beeston, sent by the governor in january , with a frigate and four smaller vessels, to seize and burn some pirate ships careening on the south cays of cuba, fell in instead with two other vessels, one english and one french, which had taken part in the raids upon cuba, and carried them to jamaica. the french captain was offered to the governor of st. jago, but the latter refused to punish him for fear of his comrades in tortuga and hispaniola. both captains were therefore tried and condemned to death at port royal. as the spaniards, however, had refused to punish them, and as there was no reason why the jamaicans should be the executioners, the captains of the port and some of the council begged for a reprieve, and the english prisoner, francis witherborn, was sent to england.[ ] captain johnson, one of the pirates after whom beeston had originally been sent, was later in the year shipwrecked by a hurricane upon the coast of jamaica. johnson, immediately after the publication of the peace by sir thomas lynch, had fled from port royal with about ten followers, and falling in with a spanish ship of eighteen guns, had seized it and killed the captain and twelve or fourteen of the crew. then gathering about him a party of a hundred or more, english and french, he had robbed spanish vessels round havana and the cuban coast. finally, however, he grew weary of his french companions, and sailed for jamaica to make terms with the governor, when on coming to anchor in morant bay he was blown ashore by the hurricane. the governor had him arrested, and gave a commission to colonel modyford, the son of sir thomas, to assemble the justices and proceed to trial and immediate execution. he adjured him, moreover, to see to it that the pirate was not acquitted. colonel modyford, nevertheless, sharing perhaps his father's sympathy with the sea-rovers, deferred the trial, acquainted none of the justices with his orders, and although johnson and two of his men "confessed enough to hang a hundred honester persons," told the jury they could not find against the prisoner. half an hour after the dismissal of the court, johnson "came to drink with his judges." the baffled governor thereupon placed johnson a second time under arrest, called a meeting of the council, from which he dismissed colonel modyford, and "finding material errors," reversed the judgment. the pirate was again tried--lynch himself this time presiding over the court--and upon making a full confession, was condemned and executed, though "as much regretted," writes lynch, "as if he had been as pious and as innocent as one of the primitive martyrs." the second trial was contrary to the fundamental principles of english law, howsoever guilty the culprit may have been, and the king sent a letter to lynch reproving him for his rashness. he commanded the governor to try all pirates thereafter by maritime law, and if a disagreement arose to remit the case to the king for re-judgment. nevertheless he ordered lynch to suspend from all public employments in the island, whether civil or military, both colonel modyford and all others guilty with him of designedly acquitting johnson.[ ] the spaniards in the west indies, notwithstanding the endeavours of sir thomas lynch to clear their coasts of pirates, made little effort to co-operate with him. the governors of cartagena and st. jago de cuba, pretending that they feared being punished for allowing trade, had forbidden english frigates to come into their ports, and refused them provisions and water; and the governor of campeache had detained money, plate and negroes taken out of an english trading-vessel, to the value of , pieces of eight. when lynch sent to demand satisfaction, the governor referred him to madrid for justice, "which to me that have been there," writes lynch, "seems worse than the taking it away."[ ] the news also of the imposing armament, which the spanish grandees made signs of preparing to send to the indies on learning of the capture of panama, was in november just beginning to filter into jamaica; and the governor and council, fearing that the fleet was directed against them, made vigorous efforts, by repairing the forts, collecting stores and marshalling the militia, to put the island in a state of defence. the spanish fleet never appeared, however, and life on the island soon subsided into its customary channels.[ ] sir thomas lynch, meanwhile, was all the more careful to observe the peace with spain and yet refrain from alienating the more troublesome elements of the population. it had been decided in england that morgan, too, like modyford, was to be sacrificed, formally at least, to the remonstrances of the spanish government; yet lynch, because morgan himself was ill, and fearing perhaps that two such arrests might create a disturbance among the friends of the culprits, or at least deter the buccaneers from coming in under the declaration of amnesty, did not send the admiral to england until the following spring. on th april morgan sailed from jamaica a prisoner in the frigate "welcome."[ ] he sailed, however, with the universal respect and sympathy of all parties in the colony. lynch himself calls him "an honest, brave fellow," and major james banister in a letter to the secretary of state recommends him to the esteem of arlington as "a very well deserving person, and one of great courage and conduct, who may, with his majesty's pleasure, perform good service at home, and be very advantageous to the island if war should break forth with the spaniard."[ ] indeed morgan, the buccaneer, was soon in high favour at the dissolute court of charles ii., and when in january the earl of carlisle was chosen governor of jamaica, morgan was selected as his deputy[ ]--an act which must have entirely neutralized in spanish councils the effect of his arrest a year and a half earlier. lord carlisle, however, did not go out to jamaica until , and meanwhile in april a commission to be governor was issued to lord vaughan,[ ] and several months later another to morgan as lieutenant-governor.[ ] vaughan arrived in jamaica in the middle of march ; but morgan, whom the king in the meantime had knighted, sailed ahead of vaughan, apparently in defiance of the governor's orders, and although shipwrecked on the isle la vache, reached jamaica a week before his superior.[ ] it seems that sir thomas modyford sailed for jamaica with morgan, and the return of these two arch-offenders to the west indies filled the spanish court with new alarms. the spanish ambassador in london presented a memorial of protest to the english king,[ ] and in spain the council of war blossomed into fresh activity to secure the defence of the west indies and the coasts of the south sea.[ ] ever since , indeed, the spaniards moved by some strange infatuation, had persisted in a course of active hostility to the english in the west indies. could the spanish government have realized the inherent weakness of its american possessions, could it have been informed of the scantiness of the population in proportion to the large extent of territory and coast-line to be defended, could it have known how in the midst of such rich, unpeopled countries abounding with cattle, hogs and other provisions, the buccaneers could be extirpated only by co-operation with its english and french neighbours, it would have soon fallen back upon a policy of peace and good understanding with england. but the news of the sack of panama, following so close upon the conclusion of the treaty of , and the continued depredations of the buccaneers of tortuga and the declared pirates of jamaica, had shattered irrevocably the reliance of the spaniards upon the good faith of the english government. and when morgan was knighted and sent back to jamaica as lieutenant-governor, their suspicions seemed to be confirmed. a ketch, sent to cartagena in by sir thomas lynch to trade in negroes, was seized by the general of the galleons, the goods burnt in the market-place, and the negroes sold for the spanish king's account.[ ] an irish papist, named philip fitzgerald, commanding a spanish man-of-war of twelve guns belonging to havana, and a spaniard called don francisco with a commission from the governor of campeache, roamed the west indian seas and captured english vessels sailing from jamaica to london, virginia and the windward islands, barbarously ill-treating and sometimes massacring the english mariners who fell into their hands.[ ] the spanish governors, in spite of the treaty and doubtless in conformity with orders from home,[ ] did nothing to restrain the cruelties of these privateers. at one time eight english sailors who had been captured in a barque off port royal and carried to havana, on attempting to escape from the city were pursued by a party of soldiers, and all of them murdered, the head of the master being set on a pole before the governor's door.[ ] at another time fitzgerald sailed into the harbour of havana with five englishmen tied ready to hang, two at the main-yard arms, two at the fore-yard arms, and one at the mizzen peak, and as he approached the castle he had the wretches swung off, while he and his men shot at the dangling corpses from the decks of the vessel.[ ] the repeated complaints and demands for reparation made to the spanish ambassador in london, and by sir william godolphin to the spanish court, were answered by counter-complaints of outrages committed by buccaneers who, though long ago disavowed and declared pirates by the governor of jamaica, were still charged by the spaniards to the account of the english.[ ] each return of the fleet from porto bello or vera cruz brought with it english prisoners from cartagena and other spanish fortresses, who were lodged in the dungeons of seville and often condemned to the galleys or to the quicksilver mines. the english ambassador sometimes secured their release, but his efforts to obtain redress for the loss of ships and goods received no satisfaction. the spanish government, believing that parliament was solicitous of spanish trade and would not supply charles ii. with the necessary funds for a war,[ ] would disburse nothing in damages. it merely granted to the injured parties despatches directed to the governor of havana, which ordered him to restore the property in dispute unless it was contraband goods. godolphin realized that these delays and excuses were only the prelude to an ultimate denial of any reparation whatever, and wrote home to the secretary of state that "england ought rather to provide against future injuries than to depend on satisfaction here, till they have taught the spaniards their own interest in the west indies by more efficient means than friendship."[ ] the aggrieved merchants and shipowners, often only too well acquainted with the dilatory spanish forms of procedure, saw that redress at havana was hopeless, and petitioned charles ii. for letters of reprisal.[ ] sir leoline jenkins, judge of the admiralty, however, in a report to the king gave his opinion that although he saw little hope of real reparation, the granting of reprisals was not justified by law until the cases had been prosecuted at havana according to the queen-regent's orders.[ ] this apparently was never done, and some of the cases dragged on for years without the petitioners ever receiving satisfaction. the excuse of the spaniards for most of these seizures was that the vessels contained logwood, a dyewood found upon the coasts of campeache, honduras and yucatan, the cutting and removal of which was forbidden to any but spanish subjects. the occupation of cutting logwood had sprung up among the english about ten years after the seizure of jamaica. in modyford writes that a dozen vessels belonging to port royal were concerned in this trade alone, and six months later he furnished a list of thirty-two ships employed in logwood cutting, equipped with seventy-four guns and men.[ ] the men engaged in the business had most of them been privateers, and as the regions in which they sought the precious wood were entirely uninhabited by spaniards, modyford suggested that the trade be encouraged as an outlet for the energies of the buccaneers. by such means, he thought, these "soldiery men" might be kept within peaceable bounds, and yet be always ready to serve his majesty in event of any new rupture. when sir thomas lynch replaced modyford, he realized that this logwood-cutting would be resented by the spaniards and might neutralize all his efforts to effect a peace. he begged repeatedly for directions from the council in england. "for god's sake," he writes, "give your commands about the logwood."[ ] in the meantime, after consulting with modyford, he decided to connive at the business, but he compelled all who brought the wood into port royal to swear that they had not stolen it or done any violence to the spaniards.[ ] secretary arlington wrote to the governor, in november , to hold the matter over until he obtained the opinion of the english ambassador at madrid, especially as some colour was lent to the pretensions of the logwood cutters by the article of the peace of which confirmed the english king in the possession and sovereignty of all territory in america occupied by his subjects at that date.[ ] in may ambassador godolphin returned his answer. "the wood," he writes, "is brought from yucatan, a large province of new spain, about leagues in length, sufficiently peopled, having several great towns, as merida, valladolid, san francisco de campeache, etc., and the government one of the most considerable next to peru and mexico.... so that spain has as well too much right as advantage not to assert the propriety of these woods, for though not all inhabited, these people may as justly pretend to make use of our rivers, mountains and commons, as we can to enjoy any benefit to those woods." so much for the strict justice of the matter. but when the ambassador came to give his own opinion on the trade, he advised that if the english confined themselves to cutting wood alone, and in places remote from spanish settlements, the king might connive at, although not authorize, their so doing.[ ] here was the kernel of the whole matter. spain was too weak and impotent to take any serious revenge. so let us rob her quietly but decently, keeping the theft out of her sight and so sparing her feelings as much as possible. it was the same piratical motive which animated drake and hawkins, which impelled morgan to sack maracaibo and panama, and which, transferred to the dignified council chambers of england, took on a more humane but less romantic guise. on th october , the council for the plantations dispatched to governor lynch their approval of his connivance at the business, but they urged him to observe every care and prudence, to countenance the cutting only in desolate and uninhabited places, and to use every endeavour to prevent any just complaints by the spaniards of violence and depredation.[ ] the spaniards nevertheless did, as we have seen, engage in active reprisal, especially as they knew the cutting of logwood to be but the preliminary step to the growth of english settlements upon the coasts of yucatan and honduras, settlements, indeed, which later crystallized into a british colony. the queen-regent of spain sent orders and instructions to her governors in the west indies to encourage privateers to take and punish as pirates all english and french who robbed and carried away wood within their jurisdictions; and three small frigates from biscay were sent to clear out the intruders.[ ] the buccaneer yallahs, we have seen, was employed by the governor of campeache to seize the logwood-cutters; and although he surprised twelve or more vessels, the governor of jamaica, not daring openly to avow the business, could enter no complaint. on rd november , however, he was compelled to issue a proclamation ordering all vessels sailing from port royal for the purpose of cutting dye-wood to go in fleets of at least four as security against surprise and capture. under the governorship of lord vaughan, and after him of lord carlisle, matters continued in this same uncertain course, the english settlements in honduras gradually increasing in numbers and vitality, and the spaniards maintaining their right to take all ships they found at sea laden with logwood, and indeed, all english and french ships found upon their coasts. each of the english governors in turn had urged that some equitable adjustment of the trade be made with the spanish crown, if peace was to be preserved in the indies and the buccaneers finally suppressed; but the spaniards would agree to no accommodation, and in march the king wrote to lord carlisle bidding him discourage, as far as possible, the logwood-cutting in campeache or any other of the spanish dominions, and to try and induce the buccaneers to apply themselves to planting instead.[ ] the reprisals of the spaniards on the score of logwood-cutting were not the only difficulties with which lord vaughan as governor had to contend. from the day of his landing in jamaica he seems to have conceived a violent dislike of his lieutenant, sir henry morgan, and this antagonism was embittered by morgan's open or secret sympathy with the privateers, a race with whom vaughan had nothing in common. the ship on which morgan had sailed from england, and which was cast away upon the isle la vache, had contained the military stores for jamaica, most of which were lost in the wreck. morgan, contrary to lord vaughan's positive and written orders, had sailed before him, and assumed the authority in jamaica a week before the arrival of the governor at port royal. this the governor seems to have been unable to forgive. he openly blamed morgan for the wreck and the loss of the stores; and only two months after his coming to jamaica, in may , he wrote to england that for the good of his majesty's service he thought morgan ought to be removed, and the charge of so useless an officer saved.[ ] in september he wrote that he was "every day more convinced of (morgan's) imprudence and unfitness to have anything to do in the civil government, and of what hazards the island may run by so dangerous a succession." sir henry, he continued, had made himself and his authority so cheap at the port, drinking and gaming in the taverns, that the governor intended to remove thither speedily himself for the reputation of the island and the security of the place.[ ] he recommended that his predecessor, sir thomas lynch, whom he praises for "his prudent government and conduct of affairs," be appointed his deputy instead of morgan in the event of the governor's death or absence.[ ] lord vaughan's chief grievance, however, was the lieutenant-governor's secret encouragement of the buccaneers. "what i most resent," he writes again, "is ... that i find sir henry, contrary to his duty and trust, endeavours to set up privateering, and has obstructed all my designs and purposes for the reducing of those that do use this course of life."[ ] when he had issued proclamations, the governor continued, declaring as pirates all the buccaneers who refused to submit, sir henry had encouraged the english freebooters to take french commissions, had himself fitted them out for sea, and had received authority from the french governor of tortuga to collect the tenths on prize goods brought into jamaica under cover of these commissions. the quarrel came to a head over the arrest and trial of a buccaneer named john deane, commander of the ship "st. david." deane was accused of having stopped a ship called the "john adventure," taken out several pipes of wine and a cable worth £ , and forcibly carried the vessel to jamaica. he was also reported to be wearing dutch, french and spanish colours without commission.[ ] when the "john adventure" entered port royal it was seized by the governor for landing goods without entry, contrary to the acts of navigation, and on complaint of the master of the vessel that he had been robbed by deane and other privateers, sir henry morgan was ordered to imprison the offenders. the lieutenant-governor, however, seems rather to have encouraged them to escape,[ ] until deane made so bold as to accuse the governor of illegal seizure. deane was in consequence arrested by the governor, and on th april , in a court of admiralty presided over by lord vaughan as vice-admiral, was tried and condemned to suffer death as a pirate.[ ] the proceedings, however, were not warranted by legal practice, for according to statutes of the twenty-seventh and twenty-eighth years of henry viii., pirates might not be tried in an admiralty court, but only under the common law of england by a commission of oyer and terminer under the great seal.[ ] after obtaining an opinion to this effect from the judge of the admiralty, the english council wrote to lord vaughan staying the execution of deane, and ordering a new trial to be held under a proper commission about to be forwarded to him.[ ] the governor of jamaica, however, upon receiving a confession from deane and frequent petitions for pardon, had reprieved the pirate a month before the letter from the council reached him.[ ] the incident had good effect in persuading the freebooters to come in, and that result assured, the governor could afford to bend to popular clamour in favour of the culprit. in the latter part of a standing commission of oyer and terminer for the trial of pirates in jamaica was prepared by the attorney-general and sent to the colony.[ ] after the trial of deane, the lieutenant-governor, according to lord vaughan, had openly expressed himself, both in the taverns and in his own house, in vindication of the condemned man and in disparagement of vaughan himself.[ ] the quarrel hung fire, however, until on th july when the governor, in obedience to orders from england,[ ] cited morgan and his brother-in-law, colonel byndloss, to appear before the council. against morgan he brought formal charges of using the governor's name and authority without his orders in letters written to the captains of the privateers, and byndloss he accused of unlawfully holding a commission from a foreign governor to collect the tenths on condemned prize goods.[ ] morgan in his defence to secretary coventry flatly denied the charges, and denounced the letters written to the privateers as forgeries; and byndloss declared his readiness "to go in this frigate with a tender of six or eight guns and so to deal with the privateers at sea, and in their holes (_sic_) bring in the chief of them to his majesty's obedience or bring in their heads and destroy their ships."[ ] there seems to be little doubt that letters were written by morgan to certain privateers soon after his arrival in jamaica, offering them, in the name of the governor, favour and protection in port royal. copies of these letters, indeed, still exist;[ ] but whether they were actually used is not so certain. charles barre, secretary to sir henry morgan, confessed that such letters had been written, but with the understanding that the governor lent them his approval, and that when this was denied sir henry refused to send them.[ ] it is natural to suppose that morgan should feel a bond of sympathy with his old companions in the buccaneer trade, and it is probable that in , in the first enthusiasm of his return to jamaica, having behind him the openly-expressed approbation of the english court for what he had done in the past, and feeling uncertain, perhaps, as to lord vaughan's real attitude toward the sea-rovers, morgan should have done some things inconsistent with the policy of stern suppression pursued by the government. it is even likely that he was indiscreet in some of his expressions regarding the governor and his actions. his bluff, unconventional, easygoing manners, natural to men brought up in new countries and intensified by his early association with the buccaneers, may have been distasteful to a courtier accustomed to the urbanities of whitehall. it is also clear, however, that lord vaughan from the first conceived a violent prejudice against his lieutenant, and allowed this prejudice to colour the interpretation he put upon all of sir henry's actions. and it is rather significant that although the particulars of the dispute and of the examination before the council of jamaica were sent to the privy council in england, the latter body did not see fit to remove morgan from his post until six years later. as in the case of modyford and lynch, so with lord vaughan, the thorn in his side was the french colony on hispaniola and tortuga. the english buccaneers who would not come in under the proclamation of pardon published at port royal, still continued to range the seas with french commissions, and carried their prizes into french ports. the governor protested to m. d'ogeron and to his successor, m. de pouançay, declaring that any english vessels or subjects caught with commissions against the spaniards would be treated as pirates and rebels; and in december , in compliance with the king's orders of the previous august, he issued a public proclamation to that effect.[ ] in april an act was passed by the assembly, declaring it felony for any english subject belonging to the island to serve under a foreign prince or state without licence under the hand and seal of the governor;[ ] and in the following july the council ordered another proclamation to be issued, offering ample pardon to all men in foreign service who should come in within twelve months to claim the benefit of the act.[ ] these measures seem to have been fairly successful, for on st august peter beckford, clerk of the council in jamaica, wrote to secretary williamson that since the passing of the law at least privateers had come in and submitted, and that few men would now venture their lives to serve the french.[ ] even with the success of this act, however, the path of the governor was not all roses. buccaneering had always been so much a part of the life of the colony that it was difficult to stamp it out entirely. runaway servants and others from the island frequently recruited the ranks of the freebooters; members of the assembly, and even of the council, were interested in privateering ventures; and as the governor was without a sufficient naval force to deal with the offenders independently of the council and assembly, he often found his efforts fruitless. in the early part of a scotchman, named james browne, with a commission from m. d'ogeron and a mixed crew of english, dutch and french, seized a dutch ship trading in negroes off the coast of cartagena, killed the dutch captain and several of his men, and landed the negroes, about in number, in a remote bay of jamaica. lord vaughan sent a frigate which seized about of the negroes, and when browne and his crew fell into the governor's hands he had them all tried and condemned for piracy. browne was ordered to be executed, but his men, eight in number, were pardoned. the captain petitioned the assembly to have the benefit of the act of privateers, and the house twice sent a committee to the governor to endeavour to obtain a reprieve. lord vaughan, however, refused to listen and gave orders for immediate execution. half an hour after the hanging, the provost-marshal appeared with an order signed by the speaker to observe the chief-justice's writ of habeas corpus, whereupon vaughan, resenting the action, immediately dissolved the assembly.[ ] the french colony on hispaniola was an object of concern to the jamaicans, not only because it served as a refuge for privateers from port royal, but also because it threatened soon to overwhelm the old spanish colony and absorb the whole island. under the conciliatory, opportunist regime of m. d'ogeron, the french settlements in the west of the island had grown steadily in number and size;[ ] while the old spanish towns seemed every year to become weaker and more open to attack. d'ogeron, who died in france in , had kept always before him the project of capturing the spanish capital, san domingo; but he was too weak to accomplish so great a design without aid from home, and this was never vouchsafed him. his policy, however, was continued by his nephew and successor, m. de pouançay, and every defection from jamaica seemed so much assistance to the french to accomplish their ambition. yet it was manifestly to the english interest in the west indies not to permit the french to obtain a pre-eminence there. the spanish colonies were large in area, thinly populated, and ill-supported by the home government, so that they were not likely to be a serious menace to the english islands. with their great wealth and resources, moreover, they had few manufactures and offered a tempting field for exploitation by english merchants. the french colonies, on the other hand, were easily supplied with merchandise from france, and in event of a war would prove more dangerous as neighbours than the spaniards. to allow the french to become lords of san domingo would have been to give them an undisputed predominance in the west indies and make them masters of the neighbouring seas. in the second war of conquest waged by louis xiv. against holland, the french in the west indies found the buccaneers to be useful allies, but as usually happened at such times, the spaniards paid the bill. in the spring of five or six english privateers surprised the town of santa marta on the spanish main. according to the reports brought to jamaica, the governor and the bishop, in order to save the town from being burnt, agreed with the marauders for a ransom; but the governor of cartagena, instead of contributing with pieces of eight, despatched a force of men by land and three vessels by sea to drive out the invaders. the spanish troops, however, were easily defeated, and the ships, seeing the french colours waving over the fort and the town, sailed back to cartagena. the privateers carried away the governor and the bishop and came to jamaica in july. the plunder amounted to only £ per man. the english in the party, about in number and led by captains barnes and coxon, submitted at port royal under the terms of the act against privateers, and delivered up the bishop of santa marta to lord vaughan. vaughan took care to lodge the bishop well, and hired a vessel to send him to cartagena, at which "the good old man was exceedingly pleased." he also endeavoured to obtain the custody of the spanish governor and other prisoners, but without success, "the french being obstinate and damnably enraged the english had left them" and submitted to lord vaughan.[ ] in the beginning of the following year, , count d'estrées, vice-admiral of the french fleet in the west indies, was preparing a powerful armament to go against the dutch on curaçao, and sent two frigates to hispaniola with an order from the king to m. de pouançay to join him with buccaneers. de pouançay assembled the men at cap françois, and embarking on the frigates and on some filibustering ships in the road, sailed for st. kitts. there he was joined by a squadron of fifteen or more men-of-war from martinique under command of count d'estrées. the united fleet of over thirty vessels sailed for curaçao on th may, but on the fourth day following, at about eight o'clock in the evening, was wrecked upon some coral reefs near the isle d'aves.[ ] as the french pilots had been at odds among themselves as to the exact position of the fleet, the admiral had taken the precaution to send a fire-ship and three buccaneering vessels several miles in advance of the rest of the squadron. unfortunately these scouts drew too little water and passed over the reefs without touching them. a buccaneer was the first to strike and fired three shots to warn the admiral, who at once lighted fires and discharged cannon to keep off the rest of the ships. the latter, however, mistaking the signals, crowded on sail, and soon most of the fleet were on the reefs. those of the left wing, warned in time by a shallop from the flag-ship, succeeded in veering off. the rescue of the crews was slow, for the seas were heavy and the boats approached the doomed ships with difficulty. many sailors and marines were drowned, and seven men-of-war, besides several buccaneering ships, were lost on the rocks. count d'estrées himself escaped, and sailed with the remnant of his squadron to petit goave and cap françois in hispaniola, whence on th june he departed for france.[ ] the buccaneers were accused in the reports which reached barbadoes of deserting the admiral after the accident, and thus preventing the reduction of curaçao, which d'estrées would have undertaken in spite of the shipwreck.[ ] however this may be, one of the principal buccaneer leaders, named de grammont, was left by de pouançay at the isle d'aves to recover what he could from the wreck, and to repair some of the privateering vessels.[ ] when he had accomplished this, finding himself short of provisions, he sailed with about men to make a descent on maracaibo; and after spending six months in the lake, seizing the shipping and plundering all the settlements in that region, he re-embarked in the middle of december. the booty is said to have been very small.[ ] early in the same year the marquis de maintenon, commanding the frigate "la sorcière," and aided by some french filibusters from tortuga, was on the coast of caracas, where he ravaged the islands of margarita and trinidad. he had arrived in the west indies from france in the latter part of , and when he sailed from tortuga was at the head of or men. his squadron met with little success, however, and soon scattered.[ ] other bands of filibusters pillaged campeache, puerto principe in cuba, santo tomas on the orinoco, and truxillo in the province of honduras; and de pouançay, to console the buccaneers for their losses at the isle d'aves, sent men under the sieur de franquesnay to make a descent upon st. jago de cuba, but the expedition seems to have been a failure.[ ] on st march a commission was again issued to the earl of carlisle, appointing him governor of jamaica.[ ] carlisle arrived in his new government on th july,[ ] but lord vaughan, apparently because of ill-health, had already sailed for england at the end of march, leaving sir henry morgan, who retained his place under the new governor, deputy in his absence.[ ] lord carlisle, immediately upon his arrival, invited the privateers to come in and encouraged them to stay, hoping, according to his own account, to be able to wean them from their familiar courses, and perhaps to use them in the threatened war with france, for the island then had "not above whites able to bear arms, a secret not fit to be made public."[ ] if the governor was sincere in his intentions, the results must have been a bitter disappointment. some of the buccaneers came in, others persevered in the old trade, and even those who returned abused the pardon they had received. in the autumn of , several privateering vessels under command of captains coxon, sharp and others who had come back to jamaica, made a raid in the gulf of honduras, plundered the royal storehouses there, carried off chests of indigo,[ ] besides cocoa, cochineal, tortoiseshell, money and plate, and returned with their plunder to jamaica. not knowing what their reception might be, one of the vessels landed her cargo of indigo in an unfrequented spot on the coast, and the rest sent word that unless they were allowed to bring their booty to port royal and pay the customs duty, they would sail to rhode island or to one of the dutch plantations. the governor had taken security for good behaviour from some of the captains before they sailed from jamaica; yet in spite of this they were permitted to enter the indigo at the custom house and divide it in broad daylight; and the frigate "success" was ordered to coast round jamaica in search of other privateers who failed to come in and pay duty on their plunder at port royal. the glut of indigo in jamaica disturbed trade considerably, and for a time the imported product took the place of native sugar and indigo as a medium of exchange. manufacture on the island was hindered, prices were lowered, and only the king's customs received any actual benefit.[ ] these same privateers, however, were soon out upon a much larger design. six captains, sharp, coxon, essex, allison, row, and maggott, in four barques and two sloops, met at point morant in december , and on th january set sail for porto bello. they were scattered by a terrible storm, but all eventually reached their rendezvous in safety. there they picked up another barque commanded by captain cooke, who had sailed from jamaica on the same design, and likewise a french privateering vessel commanded by captain lessone. they set out for porto bello in canoes with over men, and landing twenty leagues from the town, marched for four days along the seaside toward the city. coming to an indian village about three miles from porto bello, they were discovered by the natives, and one of the indians ran to the city, crying, "ladrones! ladrones!" the buccaneers, although "many of them were weak, being three days without any food, and their feet cut with the rocks for want of shoes," made all speed for the town, which they entered without difficulty on th february . most of the inhabitants sought refuge in the castle, whence they made a counter-attack without success upon the invaders. on the evening of the following day, the buccaneers retreated with their prisoners and booty down to a cay or small island about three and a half leagues from porto bello, where they were joined by their ships. they had just left in time to avoid a force of some spanish troops who were sent from panama and arrived the day after the buccaneers departed. after capturing two spanish vessels bound for porto bello with provisions from cartagena, they divided the plunder, of which each man received pieces of eight, and departed for boca del toro some fifty leagues to the north. there they careened and provisioned, and being joined by two other jamaican privateers commanded by sawkins and harris, sailed for golden island, whence on th april , with men, they began their march across the isthmus of darien to the coasts of panama and the south seas.[ ] lord carlisle cannot escape the charge of culpable negligence for having permitted these vessels in the first place to leave jamaica. all the leaders in the expedition were notorious privateers, men who had repeatedly been concerned in piratical outrages against the dutch and spaniards. coxon and harris had both come in after taking part in the expedition against santa marta; sawkins had been caught with his vessel by the frigate "success" and sent to port royal, where on st december he seems to have been in prison awaiting trial;[ ] while essex had been brought in by another frigate, the "hunter," in november, and tried with twenty of his crew for plundering on the jamaican coast, two of his men being sentenced to death.[ ] the buccaneers themselves declared that they had sailed with permission from lord carlisle to cut logwood.[ ] this was very likely true; yet after the exactly similar ruse of these men when they went to honduras, the governor could not have failed to suspect their real intentions. at the end of may lord carlisle suddenly departed for england in the frigate "hunter," leaving morgan again in charge as lieutenant-governor.[ ] on his passage home the governor met with captain coxon, who, having quarrelled with his companions in the pacific, had returned across darien to the west indies and was again hanging about the shores of jamaica. the "hunter" gave chase for twenty-four hours, but being outsailed was content to take two small vessels in the company of coxon which had been deserted by their crews.[ ] in england samuel long, whom the governor had suspended from the council and dismissed from his post as chief justice of the colony for his opposition to the new constitution, accused the governor before the privy council of collusion with pirates and encouraging them to bring their plunder to jamaica. the charges were doubtless conceived in a spirit of revenge; nevertheless the two years during which carlisle was in jamaica were marked by an increased activity among the freebooters, and by a lukewarmness and negligence on the part of the government, for which carlisle alone must be held responsible. to accuse him of deliberately supporting and encouraging the buccaneers, however, may be going too far. sir henry morgan, during his tenure of the chief command of the island, showed himself very zealous in the pursuit of the pirates, and sincerely anxious to bring them to justice; and as carlisle and morgan always worked together in perfect harmony, we may be justified in believing that carlisle's mistakes were those of negligence rather than of connivance. the freebooters who brought goods into jamaica increased the revenues of the island, and a governor whose income was small and tastes extravagant, was not apt to be too inquisitive about the source of the articles which entered through the customs. there is evidence, moreover, that french privateers, being unable to obtain from the merchants on the coast of san domingo the cables, anchors, tar and other naval stores necessary for their armaments, were compelled to resort to other islands to buy them, and that jamaica came in for a share of this trade. provisions, too, were more plentiful at port royal than in the _cul-de-sac_ of hispaniola, and the french governors complained to the king that the filibusters carried most of their money to foreign plantations to exchange for these commodities. such french vessels if they came to jamaica were not strictly within the scope of the laws against piracy which had been passed by the assembly, and their visits were the more welcome as they paid for their goods promptly and liberally in good spanish doubloons.[ ] a general warrant for the apprehension of coxon, sharp and the other men who had plundered porto bello had been issued by lord carlisle in may , just before his departure for england. on st july a similar warrant was issued by morgan, and five days later a proclamation was published against all persons who should hold any correspondence whatever with the outlawed crews.[ ] three men who had taken part in the expedition were captured and clapped into prison until the next meeting of the court. the friends of coxon, however, including, it seems, almost all the members of the council, offered to give £ security, if he was allowed to come to port royal, that he would never take another commission except from the king of england; and morgan wrote to carlisle seeking his approbation.[ ] at the end of the following january morgan received word that a notorious dutch privateer, named jacob everson, commanding an armed sloop, was anchored on the coast with a brigantine which he had lately captured. the lieutenant-governor manned a small vessel with fifty picked men and sent it secretly at midnight to seize the pirate. everson's sloop was boarded and captured with twenty-six prisoners, but everson himself and several others escaped by jumping overboard and swimming to the shore. the prisoners, most of whom were english, were tried six weeks later, convicted of piracy and sentenced to death; but the lieutenant-governor suspended the execution and wrote to the king for instructions. on th june , the king in council ordered the execution of the condemned men.[ ] the buccaneers who, after plundering porto bello, crossed the isthmus of darien to the south seas, had a remarkable history. for eighteen months they cruised up and down the pacific coast of south america, burning and plundering spanish towns, giving and taking hard blows with equal courage, keeping the spanish provinces of equador, peru and chili in a fever of apprehension, finally sailing the difficult passage round cape horn, and returning to the windward islands in january of . touching at the island of barbadoes, they learned that the english frigate "richmond" was lying in the road, and fearing seizure they sailed on to antigua. there the governor, colonel codrington, refused to give them leave to enter the harbour. so the party, impatient of their dangerous situation, determined to separate, some landing on antigua, and sharp and sixteen others going to nevis where they obtained passage to england. on their arrival in england several, including sharp, were arrested at the instance of the spanish ambassador, and tried for committing piracy in the south seas; but from the defectiveness of the evidence produced they escaped conviction.[ ] four of the party came to jamaica, where they were apprehended, tried and condemned. one of the four, who had given himself up voluntarily, turned state's evidence; two were represented by the judges as fit objects of the king's mercy; and the other, "a bloody and notorious villein," was recommended to be executed as an example to the rest.[ ] the recrudescence of piratical activity between the years and had, through its evil effects, been strongly felt in jamaica; and public opinion was now gradually changing from one of encouragement and welcome to the privateers and of secret or open opposition to the efforts of the governors who tried to suppress them, to one of distinct hostility to the old freebooters. the inhabitants were beginning to realize that in the encouragement of planting, and not of buccaneering, lay the permanent welfare of the island. planting and buccaneering, side by side, were inconsistent and incompatible, and the colonists chose the better course of the two. in spite of the frequent trials and executions at port royal, the marauders seemed to be as numerous as ever, and even more troublesome. private trade with the spaniards was hindered; runaway servants, debtors and other men of unfortunate or desperate condition were still, by every new success of the buccaneers, drawn from the island to swell their ranks; and most of all, men who were now outlawed in jamaica, driven to desperation turned pirate altogether, and began to wage war indiscriminately on the ships of all nationalities, including those of the english. morgan repeatedly wrote home urging the dispatch of small frigates of light draught to coast round the island and surprise the freebooters, and he begged for orders for himself to go on board and command them, for "then i shall not much question," he concludes, "to reduce them or in some time to leave them shipless."[ ] "the governor," wrote the council of jamaica to the lords of trade and plantations in may , "can do little from want of ships to reduce the privateers, and of plain laws to punish them"; and they urged the ratification of the act passed by the assembly two years before, making it felony for any british subject in the west indies to serve under a foreign prince without leave from the governor.[ ] this act, and another for the more effectual punishment of pirates, had been under consideration in the privy council in february , and both were returned to jamaica with certain slight amendments. they were again passed by the assembly as one act in , and were finally incorporated into the jamaica act of "for the restraining and punishing of privateers and pirates."[ ] footnotes: [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , ; beeston's journal.] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , . this may be the diego grillo to whom duro (_op. cit._, v. p. ) refers--a native of havana commanding a vessel of fifteen guns. he defeated successively in the bahama channel three armed ships sent out to take him, and in all of them he massacred without exception the spaniards of european birth. he was captured in and suffered the fate he had meted out to his victims.] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , . seventeen months later, after the outbreak of the dutch war, the jamaicans had a similar scare over an expected invasion of the dutch and spaniards, but this, too, was dissolved by time into thin air. (c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , ). in this connection, _cf._ egerton mss., , f. :--letter written by the governor of cumana to the duke of veragua, , seeking his influence with the council of the indies to have the governor of margarita send against jamaica or indians, "guay quies," as they are valient bowmen, seamen and divers.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , ; beeston's journal.] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , - .] [footnote : ibid., no. , _cf._ also , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , , , , .] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; _ibid._ - , no. ; add. mss., , , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , ; _ibid._, - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., - , no. ; _ibid._, - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid.] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , ; s.p. spain, vols. , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. - .] [footnote : ibid., nos. - , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , iv. it was a very profitable business for the wood then sold at £ or £ a ton. for a description of the life of the logwood-cutters _cf._ dampier, voyages, _ed._ , ii. pp. - . - , _ff._] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - . no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , . fernandez duro (t.v., p. ) mentions a spanish ordinance of nd february , which authorized spanish corsairs to go out in the pursuit and punishment of pirates. periaguas, or large flat-bottomed canoes, were to be constructed for use in shoal waters. they were to be feet long and from to feet wide, with a draught of only or feet, and were to be provided with a long gun in the bow and four smaller pieces in the stern. they were to be propelled by both oars and sails, and were to carry men.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; beeston's journal, aug. .] [footnote : ibid., - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. . in significant contrast to lord vaughan's praise of lynch, sir henry morgan, who could have little love for the man who had shipped him and modyford as prisoners to england, filled the ears of secretary williamson with veiled accusations against lynch of having tampered with the revenues and neglected the defences of the island. (ibid., no. .)] [footnote : ibid., no. . in testimony of lord vaughan's straightforward policy toward buccaneering, _cf._ beeston's journal, june .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : leeds mss. (hist. mss. comm., xi. pt. , p. )--depositions in which sir henry morgan is represented as endeavouring to hush up the matter, saying "the privateers were poore, honest fellows," to which the plundered captain replied "that he had not found them soe."] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - ; nos. , .] [footnote : statutes at large, vol. ii. (lond. ), pp. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - ; nos. - , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. (vii., viii.); _cf._ also no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. (xiv., xvii.).] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., - , no. ; _cf._ also nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. . a similar proclamation was issued in may ; _cf._ ibid., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , ; egerton mss., , f. .] [footnote : in a memoir to mme. de montespan, dated th july , the population of french san domingo is given as between four and five thousand, white and black. the colony embraced a strip of coast leagues in length and or miles wide, and it produced , , lbs. of tobacco annually. (bibl. nat., nouv. acq., , f. ).] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , ; s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : a small island east of curaçao, in latitude ° north, longitude ° ' west.] [footnote : saint yves, g. les campagnes de jean d'estrées dans la mer des antilles, - ; _cf._ also c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , - , , (xiv., xv.), - . according to one story, the dutch governor of curaçao sent out three privateers with orders to attend the french fleet, but to run no risk of capture. the french, discovering them, gave chase, but being unacquainted with those waters were decoyed among the reefs.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. - .] [footnote : dampier says of this occasion: "the privateers ... told me that if they had gone to jamaica with £ a man in their pockets, they could not have enjoyed themselves more. for they kept in a gang by themselves, and watched when the ships broke, to get the goods that came from them; and though much was staved against the rocks, yet abundance of wine and brandy floated over the riff, where the privateers waited to take it up. they lived here about three weeks, waiting an opportunity to transport themselves back again to hispaniola; in all which time they were never without two or three hogsheads of wine and brandy in their tents, and barrels of beef and pork."--dampier, _ed._ , i. p. .] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. viii. p. .] [footnote : bibl. nat., nouv. acq., , f. ; charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. viii. p. .] [footnote : ibid., p. ; c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; beeston's journal, th october .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , : beeston's journal, th october .] [footnote : the spanish ambassador, don pedro ronquillo, in his complaint to charles ii. in september , placed the number at . (c.s.p. colon., - , no. .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , ; beeston's journal, th september and th october . lord carlisle, in answer to the complaints of the spanish ambassador, pretended ignorance of the source of the indigo thus admitted through the customs, and maintained that it was brought into port royal "in lawful ships by lawful men."] [footnote : sloane mss., , f. ; s.p. spain, vol. , f. . according to the latter account, which seems to be derived from a spanish source, the loss suffered by the city amounted to about , pieces of eight, over half of which was plunder carried away by the freebooters. thirteen of the inhabitants were killed and four wounded, and of the buccaneers thirty were killed. dampier writes concerning this first irruption of the buccaneers into the pacific:--"before my first going over into the south seas with captain sharp ... i being then on board captain coxon, in company with or more privateers, about leagues to the east of portobel, we took the pacquets bound thither from cartagena. we open'd a great quantity of the merchants letters, and found ... the merchants of several parts of old spain thereby informing their correspondents of panama and elsewhere of a certain prophecy that went about spain that year, the tenour of which was, that there would be english privateers that year in the west indies, who would ... open a door into the south seas; which they supposed was fastest shut: and the letters were accordingly full of cautions to their friends to be very watchful and careful of their coasts. "this door they spake of we all concluded must be the passage over land through the country of the indians of darien, who were a little before this become our friends, and had lately fallen out with the spaniards, ... and upon calling to mind the frequent invitations we had from these indians a little before this time, to pass through their country, and fall upon the spaniards in the south seas, we from henceforward began to entertain such thoughts in earnest, and soon came to a resolution to make those attempts which we afterwards did, ... so that the taking these letters gave the first life to those bold undertakings: and we took the advantage of the fears the spaniards were in from that prophecy ... for we sealed up most of the letters again, and sent them ashore to portobel."--_ed._ , i. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : sloane mss., , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : _cf._ archives coloniales--correspondance générale de st domingue, vol. i.; martinique, vol. iv.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; sloane mss., , f. .] [footnote : sloane mss., , f. . coxon probably did not submit, for dampier tells us that at the end of may , coxon was lying with seven or eight other privateers at the samballas, islands on the coast of darien, with a ship of ten guns and men.--_ed._ , i. p. .] [footnote : ibid., f. ; c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , . everson was not shot and killed in the water, as morgan's account implies, for he flourished for many years afterwards as one of the most notorious of the buccaneer captains.] [footnote : ringrose's journal. _cf._ also s.p. spain, vol. , f. ; c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , ; hist. mss. commiss., vii., b.] [footnote : c.s.p colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , ; _ibid._, - , no. ; add. mss., , ; acts of privy council, colonial series i. no. .] chapter vii the buccaneers turn pirate on th may , sir thomas lynch returned to jamaica as governor of the colony.[ ] of the four acting governors since , lynch stood apart as the one who had endeavoured with singleness and tenacity of purpose to clear away the evils of buccaneering. lord vaughan had displayed little sympathy for the corsairs, but he was hampered by an irascible temper, and according to some reports by an avarice which dimmed the lustre of his name. the earl of carlisle, if he did not directly encourage the freebooters, had been grossly negligent in the performance of his duty of suppressing them; while morgan, although in the years and he showed himself very zealous in punishing his old associates, cannot escape the suspicion of having secretly aided them under the governorship of lord vaughan. the task of sir thomas lynch in had been a very difficult one. buccaneering was then at flood-tide; three wealthy spanish cities on the mainland had in turn been plundered, and the stolen riches carried to jamaica; the air was alive with the exploits of these irregular warriors, and the pockets of the merchants and tavern-keepers of port royal were filled with spanish doubloons, with emeralds and pearls from new granada and the coasts of rio de la hacha, and with gold and silver plate from the spanish churches and cathedrals of porto bello and panama. the old governor, sir thomas modyford, had been popular in his person, and his policy had been more popular still. yet lynch, by a combination of tact and firmness, and by an untiring activity with the small means at his disposal, had inaugurated a new and revolutionary policy in the island, which it was the duty of his successors merely to continue. in the problem before him, although difficult, was much simpler. buccaneering was now rapidly being transformed into pure piracy. by laws and repeated proclamations, the freebooters had been offered an opportunity of returning to civilized pursuits, or of remaining ever thereafter outlawed. many had come in, some to remain, others to take the first opportunity of escaping again. but many entirely refused to obey the summons, trusting to the protection of the french in hispaniola, or so hardened to their cruel, remorseless mode of livelihood that they preferred the dangerous risks of outlawry. the temper of the inhabitants of the island, too, had changed. the planters saw more clearly the social and economic evils which the buccaneers had brought upon the island. the presence of these freebooters, they now began to realize, had discouraged planting, frightened away capital, reduced the number of labourers, and increased drunkenness, debauchery and every sort of moral disorder. the assembly and council were now at one with the governor as to the necessity of curing this running sore, and lynch could act with the assurance which came of the knowledge that he was backed by the conscience of his people. one of the earliest and most remarkable cases of buccaneer turning pirate was that of "la trompeuse." in june , before governor lynch's arrival in jamaica, a french captain named peter paine (or le pain), commander of a merchant ship called "la trompeuse" belonging to the french king, came to port royal from cayenne in guiana. he told sir henry morgan and the council that, having heard of the inhuman treatment of his fellow protestants in france, he had resolved to send back his ship and pay what was due under his contract; and he petitioned for leave to reside with the english and have english protection. the council, without much inquiry as to the petitioner's antecedents, allowed him to take the oath of allegiance and settle at st. jago, while his cargo was unloaded and entered customs-free. the ship was then hired by two jamaican merchants and sent to honduras to load logwood, with orders to sail eventually for hamburg and be delivered to the french agent.[ ] the action of the council had been very hasty and ill-considered, and as it turned out, led to endless trouble. it soon transpired that paine did not own the cargo, but had run away with it from cayenne, and had disposed of both ship and goods in his own interest. the french ambassador in london made complaints to the english king, and letters were sent out to sir thomas lynch and to governor stapleton of the leeward isles to arrest paine and endeavour to have the vessel lade only for her right owners.[ ] meanwhile a french pirate named jean hamlin, with desperadoes at his back, set out in a sloop in pursuit of "la trompeuse," and coming up with her invited the master and mate aboard his own vessel, and then seized the ship. carrying the prize to some creek or bay to careen her and fit her up as a man-of-war, he then started out on a mad piratical cruise, took sixteen or eighteen jamaican vessels, barbarously ill-treated the crews, and demoralized the whole trade of the island.[ ] captain johnson was dispatched by lynch in a frigate in october to find and destroy the pirate; but after a fruitless search of two months round porto rico and hispaniola, he returned to port royal. in december lynch learned that "la trompeuse" was careening in the neighbourhood of the isle la vache, and sent out another frigate, the "guernsey," to seize her; but the wary pirate had in the meantime sailed away. on th february the "guernsey" was again dispatched with positive orders not to stir from the coast of hispaniola until the pirate was gone or destroyed; and coxon, who seems to have been in good odour at port royal, was sent to offer to a privateer named "yankey," men, victuals, pardon and naturalization, besides £ in money for himself and coxon, if he would go after "la trompeuse."[ ] the next news of hamlin was from the virgin islands, where he was received and entertained by the governor of st. thomas, a small island belonging to the king of denmark.[ ] making st. thomas his headquarters, he robbed several english vessels that came into his way, and after first obtaining from the danish governor a promise that he would find shelter at st. thomas on his return, stood across for the gulf of guinea. in may hamlin arrived on the west side of africa disguised as an english man-of-war, and sailing up and down the coast of sierra leone captured or destroyed within several weeks seventeen ships, dutch and english, robbing them of gold-dust and negroes.[ ] the pirates then quarrelled over the division of their plunder and separated into two companies, most of the english following a captain morgan in one of the prizes, and the rest returning in "la trompeuse" to the west indies. the latter arrived at dominica in july, where forty of the crew deserted the ship, leaving but sixteen white men and twenty-two negroes on board. finally on the th the pirates dropped anchor at st. thomas. they were admitted and kindly received by the governor, and allowed to bring their plunder ashore.[ ] three days later captain carlile of h.m.s. "francis," who had been sent out by governor stapleton to hunt for pirates, sailed into the harbour, and on being assured by the pilot and by an english sloop lying at anchor there that the ship before him was the pirate "la trompeuse," in the night of the following day he set her on fire and blew her up. hamlin and some of the crew were on board, but after firing a few shots, escaped to the shore. the pirate ship carried thirty-two guns, and if she had not been under-manned carlile might have encountered a formidable resistance. the governor of st. thomas sent a note of protest to carlile for having, as he said, secretly set fire to a frigate which had been confiscated to the king of denmark.[ ] nevertheless he sent hamlin and his men for safety in a boat to another part of the island, and later selling him a sloop, let him sail away to join the french buccaneers in hispaniola.[ ] the danish governor of st. thomas, whose name was adolf esmit, had formerly been himself a privateer, and had used his popularity on the island to eject from authority his brother nicholas esmit, the lawful governor. by protecting and encouraging pirates--for a consideration, of course--he proved a bad neighbour to the surrounding english islands. although he had but or people on st. thomas, and most of these british subjects, he laid claim to all the virgin islands, harboured runaway servants, seamen and debtors, fitted out pirate vessels with arms and provisions, and refused to restore captured ships and crews which the pirates brought into his port.[ ] the king of denmark had sent out a new governor, named everson, to dispossess esmit, but he did not arrive in the west indies until october , when with the assistance of an armed sloop which sir william stapleton had been ordered by the english council to lend him, he took possession of st. thomas and its pirate governor.[ ] a second difficulty encountered by sir thomas lynch, in the first year of his return, was the privateering activity of robert clarke, governor of new providence, one of the bahama islands. governor clarke, on the plea of retaliating spanish outrages, gave letters of marque to several privateers, including coxon, the same famous chief who in had led the buccaneers into the south seas. coxon carried his commission to jamaica and showed it to governor lynch, who was greatly incensed and wrote to clarke a vigorous note of reproof.[ ] to grant such letters of marque was, of course, contrary to the treaty of madrid, and by giving the pirates only another excuse for their actions, greatly complicated the task of the governor of jamaica. lynch forwarded coxon's commission to england, where in august the proprietors of the bahama islands were ordered to attend the council and answer for the misdeeds of their governor.[ ] the proprietors, however, had already acted on their own initiative, for on th july they issued instructions to a new governor, robert lilburne, to arrest clarke and keep him in custody till he should give security to answer accusations in england, and to recall all commissions against the spaniards.[ ] the whole trouble, it seems, had arisen over the wreck of a spanish galleon in the bahamas, to which spaniards from st. augustine and havana were accustomed to resort to fish for ingots of silver, and from which they had been driven away by the governor and inhabitants of new providence. the spaniards had retaliated by robbing vessels sailing to and from the bahamas, whereupon clarke, without considering the illegality of his action, had issued commissions of war to privateers. the bahamas, however, were a favourite resort for pirates and other men of desperate character, and lilburne soon discovered that his place was no sinecure. he found it difficult moreover to refrain from hostilities against a neighbour who used every opportunity to harm and plunder his colony. in march , a former privateer named thomas pain[ ] had entered into a conspiracy with four other captains, who were then fishing for silver at the wreck, to seize st. augustine in florida. they landed before the city under french colours, but finding the spaniards prepared for them, gave up the project and looted some small neighbouring settlements. on the return of pain and two others to new providence, governor lilburne tried to apprehend them, but he failed for lack of means to enforce his authority. the spaniards, however, were not slow to take their revenge. in the following january they sent men from havana, who in the early morning surprised and plundered the town and shipping at new providence, killed three men, and carried away money and provisions to the value of £ , .[ ] when lilburne in february sent to ask the governor of havana whether the plunderers had acted under his orders, the spaniard not only acknowledged it but threatened further hostilities against the english settlement. indeed, later in the same year the spaniards returned, this time, it seems, without a commission, and according to report burnt all the houses, murdered the governor in cold blood, and carried many of the women, children and negroes to havana.[ ] about of the inhabitants made their way to jamaica, and a number of the men, thirsting for vengeance, joined the english pirates in the carolinas.[ ] in french hispaniola corsairing had been forbidden for several years, yet the french governor found the problem of suppressing the evil even more difficult than it was in jamaica. m. de pouançay, the successor of d'ogeron, died toward the end of or the beginning of , and in spite of his efforts to establish order in the colony he left it in a deplorable condition. the old fraternity of hunters or cow-killers had almost disappeared; but the corsairs and the planters were strongly united, and galled by the oppression of the west india company, displayed their strength in a spirit of indocility which caused great embarrassment to the governor. although in time of peace the freebooters kept the french settlements in continual danger of ruin by reprisal, in time of war they were the mainstay of the colony. as the governor, therefore, was dependent upon them for protection against the english, spanish and dutch, although he withdrew their commissions he dared not punish them for their crimes. the french buccaneers, indeed, occupied a curious and anomalous position. they were not ordinary privateers, for they waged war without authority; and they were still less pirates, for they had never been declared outlaws, and they confined their attentions to the spaniards. they served under conditions which they themselves imposed, or which they deigned to accept, and were always ready to turn against the representatives of authority if they believed they had aught of which to complain.[ ] the buccaneers almost invariably carried commissions from the governors of french hispaniola, but they did not scruple to alter the wording of their papers, so that a permission to privateer for three months was easily transformed into a licence to plunder for three years. these papers, moreover, were passed about from one corsair to another, until long after the occasion for their issue had ceased to exist. thus in may or june of , de grammont, on the strength of an old commission granted him by de pouançay before the treaty of nimuegen, had made a brilliant night assault upon la guayra, the seaport of caracas. of his followers only forty-seven took part in the actual seizure of the town, which was amply protected by two forts and by cannon upon the walls. on the following day, however, he received word that men were approaching from caracas, and as the enemy were also rallying in force in the vicinity of the town he was compelled to retire to the ships. this movement was executed with difficulty, and for two hours de grammont with a handful of his bravest companions covered the embarkation from the assaults of the spaniards. although he himself was dangerously wounded in the throat, he lost only eight or nine men in the whole action. he carried away with him the governor of la guayra and many other prisoners, but the booty was small. de grammont retired to the isle d'aves to nurse his wound, and after a long convalescence returned to petit goave.[ ] in , however, these filibusters of hispaniola carried out a much larger design upon the coasts of new spain. in april of that year eight buccaneer captains made a rendezvous in the gulf of honduras for the purpose of attacking vera cruz. the leaders of the party were two dutchmen named vanhorn and laurens de graff. of the other six captains, three were dutch, one was french, and two were english. vanhorn himself had sailed from england in the autumn of in command of a merchant ship called the "mary and martha," _alias_ the "st. nicholas." he soon, however, revealed the rogue he was by turning two of his merchants ashore at cadiz and stealing four spanish guns. he then sailed to the canaries and to the coast of guinea, plundering ships and stealing negroes, and finally, in november , arrived at the city of san domingo, where he tried to dispose of his black cargo. from san domingo he made for petit goave picked up men, and sailed to join laurens in the gulf of honduras.[ ] laurens, too, had distinguished himself but a short time before by capturing a spanish ship bound from havana for san domingo and porto rico with about , pieces of eight to pay off the soldiers. the freebooters had shared pieces of eight per man, and carrying their prize to petit goave had compounded with the french governor for a part of the booty.[ ] the buccaneers assembled near cape catoche to the number of about men, and sailed in the middle of may for vera cruz. learning from some prisoners that the spaniards on shore were expecting two ships from caracas, they crowded the landing party of about upon two of their vessels, displayed the spanish colours, and stood in for the city. the unfortunate inhabitants mistook them for their own people, and even lighted fires to pilot them in. the pirates landed at midnight on th may about two miles from the town, and by daybreak had possession of the city and its forts. they found the soldiers and sentinels asleep, and "all the people in the houses as quiet and still as if in their graves." for four days they held the place, plundering the churches, houses and convents; and not finding enough plate and jewels to meet their expectations, they threatened to burn the cathedral and all the prisoners within it, unless a ransom was brought in from the surrounding country. the governor, don luis de cordova, was on the third day discovered by an englishman hidden in the hay in a stable, and was ransomed for , pieces of eight. meanwhile the spanish flota of twelve or fourteen ships from cadiz had for two days been lying outside the harbour and within sight of the city; yet it did not venture to land or to attack the empty buccaneer vessels. the proximity of such an armament, however, made the freebooters uneasy, especially as the spanish viceroy was approaching with an army from the direction of mexico. on the fourth day, therefore, they sailed away in the very face of the flota to a neighbouring cay, where they divided the pillage into a thousand or more shares of pieces of eight each. vanhorn alone is said to have received thirty shares for himself and his two ships. he and laurens, who had never been on good terms, quarrelled and fought over the division, and vanhorn was wounded in the wrist. the wound seemed very slight, however, and he proposed to return and attack the spanish fleet, offering to board the "admiral" himself; but laurens refused, and the buccaneers sailed away, carrying with them over slaves. the invaders, according to report, had lost but four men in the action. about a fortnight later vanhorn died of gangrene in his wound, and de grammont, who was then acting as his lieutenant, carried his ship back to petit goave, where laurens and most of the other captains had already arrived.[ ] the mexican fleet, which returned to cadiz on th december, was only half its usual size because of the lack of a market after the visit of the corsairs; and the governor of vera cruz was sentenced to lose his head for his remissness in defending the city.[ ] the spanish ambassador in london, ronquillo, requested charles ii. to command sir thomas lynch to co-operate with a commissioner whom the spanish government was sending to the west indies to inquire into this latest outrage of the buccaneers, and such orders were dispatched to lynch in april .[ ] m. de cussy, who had been appointed by the french king to succeed his former colleague, de pouançay, arrived at petit goave in april , and found the buccaneers on the point of open revolt because of the efforts of de franquesnay, the temporary governor, to enforce the strict orders from france for their suppression.[ ] de cussy visited all parts of the colony, and by tact, patience and politic concessions succeeded in restoring order. he knew that in spite of the instructions from france, so long as he was surrounded by jealous neighbours, and so long as the peace in europe remained precarious, the safety of french hispaniola depended on his retaining the presence and good-will of the sea-rovers; and when de grammont and several other captains demanded commissions against the spaniards, the governor finally consented on condition that they persuade all the freebooters driven away by de franquesnay to return to the colony. two commissioners, named begon and st. laurent, arrived in august to aid him in reforming this dissolute society, but they soon came to the same conclusions as the governor, and sent a memoir to the french king advising less severe measures. the king did not agree with their suggestion of compromise, and de cussy, compelled to deal harshly with the buccaneers, found his task by no means an easy one.[ ] meanwhile, however, many of the freebooters, seeing the determined attitude of the established authorities, decided to transfer their activities to the pacific coasts of america, where they would be safe from interference on the part of the english or french governments. the expedition of harris, coxon, sharp and their associates across the isthmus in had kindled the imaginations of the buccaneers with the possibilities of greater plunder and adventure in these more distant regions. other parties, both english and french, speedily followed in their tracks, and after it became the prevailing practice for buccaneers to make an excursion into the south seas. the darien indians and their fiercer neighbours, the natives of the mosquito coast, who were usually at enmity with the spaniards, allied themselves with the freebooters, and the latter, in their painful marches through the dense tropical wilderness of these regions, often owed it to the timely aid and friendly offices of the natives that they finally succeeded in reaching their goal. in the summer of , a year after the arrival of de cussy in hispaniola, de grammont and laurens de graff united their forces again at the isle la vache, and in spite of the efforts of the governor to persuade them to renounce their project, sailed with men for the coasts of campeache. an attempt on merida was frustrated by the spaniards, but campeache itself was occupied after a feeble resistance, and remained in possession of the french for six weeks. after reducing the city to ashes and blowing up the fortress, the invaders retired to hispaniola.[ ] according to charlevoix, before the buccaneers sailed away they celebrated the festival of st. louis by a huge bonfire in honour of the king, in which they burnt logwood to the value of , crowns, representing the greater part of their booty. the spaniards of hispaniola, who kept up a constant desultory warfare with their french neighbours, were incited by the ravages of the buccaneers in the south seas, and by the sack of vera cruz and campeache, to renewed hostilities; and de cussy, anxious to attach to himself so enterprising and daring a leader as de grammont, obtained for him, in september , the commission of "lieutenant de roi" of the coast of san domingo. grammont, however, on learning of his new honour, wished to have a last fling at the spaniards before he settled down to respectability. he armed a ship, sailed away with men, and was never heard of again.[ ] at the same time laurens de graff was given the title of "major," and he lived to take an active part in the war against the english between and .[ ] these semi-pirates, whom the french governor dared not openly support yet feared to disavow, were a constant source of trouble to the governor of jamaica. they did not scruple to attack english traders and fishing sloops, and when pursued took refuge in petit goave, the port in the _cul-de-sac_ at the west end of hispaniola which had long been a sanctuary of the freebooters, and which paid little respect to the authority of the royal governor.[ ] in jamaica they believed that the corsairs acted under regular commissions from the french authorities, and sir thomas lynch sent repeated complaints to de pouançay and to his successor. he also wrote to england begging the council to ascertain from the french ambassador whether these governors had authority to issue commissions of war, so that his frigates might be able to distinguish between the pirate and the lawful privateer.[ ] except at petit goave, however, the french were really desirous of preserving peace with jamaica, and did what they could to satisfy the demands of the english without unduly irritating the buccaneers. they were in the same position as lynch in , who, while anxious to do justice to the spaniards, dared not immediately alienate the freebooters who plundered them, and who might, if driven away, turn their arms against jamaica. vanhorn himself, it seems, when he left hispaniola to join laurens in the gulf of honduras, had been sent out by de pouançay really to pursue "la trompeuse" and other pirates, and his lieutenant, de grammont, delivered letters to governor lynch to that effect; but once out of sight he steered directly for central america, where he anticipated a more profitable game than pirate-hunting.[ ] on the th of august sir thomas lynch died in jamaica, and colonel hender molesworth, by virtue of his commission as lieutenant-governor, assumed the authority.[ ] sir henry morgan, who had remained lieutenant-governor when lynch returned to jamaica, had afterwards been suspended from the council and from all other public employments on charges of drunkenness, disorder, and encouraging disloyalty to the government. his brother-in-law, byndloss, was dismissed for similar reasons, and roger elletson, who belonged to the same faction, was removed from his office as attorney-general of the island. lynch had had the support of both the assembly and the council, and his actions were at once confirmed in england.[ ] the governor, however, although he had enjoyed the confidence of most of the inhabitants, who looked upon him as the saviour of the island, left behind in the persons of morgan, elletson and their roystering companions, a group of implacable enemies, who did all in their power to vilify his memory to the authorities in england. several of these men, with elletson at their head, accused the dead governor of embezzling piratical goods which had been confiscated to the use of the king; but when inquiry was made by lieutenant-governor molesworth, the charges fell to the ground. elletson's information was found to be second-hand and defective, and lynch's name was more than vindicated. indeed, the governor at his death had so little ready means that his widow was compelled to borrow £ to pay for his funeral.[ ] the last years of sir thomas lynch's life had been troublous ones. not only had the peace of the island been disturbed by "la trompeuse" and other french corsairs which hovered about hispaniola; not only had his days been embittered by strife with a small, drunken, insolent faction which tried to belittle his attempts to introduce order and sobriety into the colony; but the hostility of the spanish governors in the west indies still continued to neutralize his efforts to root out buccaneering. lynch had in reality been the best friend of the spaniards in america. he had strictly forbidden the cutting of logwood in campeache and honduras, when the spaniards were outraging and enslaving every englishman they found upon those coasts;[ ] he had sent word to the spanish governors of the intended sack of vera cruz;[ ] he had protected spanish merchant ships with his own men-of-war and hospitably received them in jamaican ports. yet spanish corsairs continued to rob english vessels, and spanish governors refused to surrender english ships and goods which were carried into their ports.[ ] on the plea of punishing interlopers they armed small galleys and ordered them to take all ships which had on board any products of the indies.[ ] letters to the governors at havana and st. jago de cuba were of no avail. english trade routes were interrupted and dangerous, the turtling, trading and fishing sloops, which supplied a great part of the food of jamaica, were robbed and seized, and lynch was compelled to construct a galley of fifty oars for their protection.[ ] pirates, it is true, were frequently brought into port royal by the small frigates employed by the governor, and there were numerous executions;[ ] yet the outlaws seemed to increase daily. some black vessel was generally found hovering about the island ready to pick up any who wished to join it, and when the runaways were prevented from returning by the statute against piracy, they retired to the carolinas or to new england to dispose of their loot and refit their ships.[ ] when such retreats were available the laws against piracy did not reduce buccaneering so much as they depopulated jamaica of its white inhabitants. after , indeed, the north american colonies became more and more the resort of the pirates who were being driven from west indian waters by the stern measures of the english governors. michel landresson, _alias_ breha, who had accompanied pain in his expedition against st. augustine in , and who had been a constant source of worriment to the jamaicans because of his attacks on the fishing sloops, sailed to boston and disposed of his booty of gold, silver, jewels and cocoa to the godly new england merchants, who were only too ready to take advantage of so profitable a trade and gladly fitted him out for another cruise.[ ] pain himself appeared in rhode island, displayed the old commission to hunt for pirates given him by sir thomas lynch, and was protected by the governor against the deputy-collector of customs, who endeavoured to seize him and his ship.[ ] the chief resort of the pirates, however, was the colony of carolina. indented by numerous harbours and inlets, the shores of carolina had always afforded a safe refuge for refitting and repairing after a cruise, and from onwards, when the region began to be settled by colonists from england, the pirates found in the new communities a second jamaica, where they could sell their cargoes and often recruit their forces. in the latter part of sir thomas lynch complained to the lords of the committee for trade and plantations;[ ] and in february of the following year the king, at the suggestion of the committee, ordered that a draft of the jamaican law against pirates be sent to all the plantations in america, to be passed and enforced in each as a statute of the province.[ ] on th march a general proclamation was issued by the king against pirates in america, and a copy forwarded to all the colonial governors for publication and execution.[ ] nevertheless in massachusetts, in spite of these measures and of a letter from the king warning the governors to give no succour or aid to any of the outlaws, michel had been received with open arms, the proclamation of th march was torn down in the streets, and the jamaica act, though passed, was never enforced.[ ] in the carolinas, although the lords proprietors wrote urging the governors to take every care that no pirates were entertained in the colony, the act was not passed until november .[ ] there were few, if any, convictions, and the freebooters plied their trade with the same security as before. toward the end of three galleys from st. augustine landed about men, spaniards, indians and mulattos, a few leagues below charleston, and laid waste several plantations, including that of governor moreton. the enemy pushed on to port royal, completely destroyed the scotch colony there, and retired before a force could be raised to oppose them. to avenge this inroad the inhabitants immediately began preparations for a descent upon st. augustine; and an expedition consisting of two french privateering vessels and about men was organized and about to sail, when a new governor, james colleton, arrived and ordered it to disband.[ ] colleton was instructed to arrest governor moreton on the charge of encouraging piracy, and to punish those who entertained and abetted the freebooters;[ ] and on th february he had a new and more explicit law to suppress the evil enacted by the assembly.[ ] on nd may of the same year james ii. renewed the proclamation for the suppression of pirates, and offered pardon to all who surrendered within a limited time and gave security for future good behaviour.[ ] the situation was so serious, however, that in august the king commissioned sir robert holmes to proceed with a squadron to the west indies and make short work of the outlaws;[ ] and in october he issued a circular to all the governors in the colonies, directing the most stringent enforcement of the laws, "a practice having grown up of bringing pirates to trial before the evidence was ready, and of using other evasions to insure their acquittal."[ ] on the following th january another proclamation was issued by james to insure the co-operation of the governors with sir robert holmes and his agents.[ ] the problem, however, was more difficult than the king had anticipated. the presence of the fleet upon the coast stopped the evil for a time, but a few years later, especially in the carolinas under the administration of governor ludwell ( - ), the pirates again increased in numbers and in boldness, and charleston was completely overrun with the freebooters, who, with the connivance of the merchants and a free display of gold, set the law at defiance. in jamaica lieutenant-governor molesworth continued in the policy and spirit of his predecessor. he sent a frigate to the bay of darien to visit golden isle and the isle of pines (where the buccaneers were accustomed to make their rendezvous when they crossed over to the south seas), with orders to destroy any piratical craft in that vicinity, and he made every exertion to prevent recruits from leaving jamaica.[ ] the stragglers who returned from the south seas he arrested and executed, and he dealt severely with those who received and entertained them.[ ] by virtue of the king's proclamation of , he had the property in port royal belonging to men then in the south seas forfeited to the crown.[ ] a captain bannister, who in june had run away from port royal on a privateering venture with a ship of thirty guns, had been caught and brought back by the frigate "ruby," but when put on trial for piracy was released by the grand jury on a technicality. six months later bannister managed to elude the forts a second time, and for two years kept dodging the frigates which molesworth sent in pursuit of him. finally, in january , captain spragge sailed into port royal with the buccaneer and three of his companions hanging at the yard-arms, "a spectacle of great satisfaction to all good people, and of terror to the favourers of pirates."[ ] it was during the government of molesworth that the "biscayners" began to appear in american waters. these privateers from the bay of biscay seem to have been taken into the king of spain's service to hunt pirates, but they interrupted english trade more than the pirates did. they captured and plundered english merchantmen right and left, and carried them to cartagena, vera cruz, san domingo and other spanish ports, where the governors took charge of their prisoners and allowed them to dispose of their captured goods. they held their commissions, it seems, directly from the crown, and so pretended to be outside the pale of the authority of the spanish governors. the latter, at any rate, declared that they could give no redress, and themselves complained to the authorities in jamaica of the independence of these marauders.[ ] in december the king issued a warrant to the governor of jamaica authorizing him to suppress the biscayans with the royal frigates.[ ] on th october the governorship of the island was assigned to sir philip howard,[ ] but howard died shortly after, and the duke of albemarle was appointed in his stead.[ ] albemarle, who arrived at port royal in december ,[ ] completely reversed the policy of his predecessors, lynch and molesworth. even before he left england he had undermined his health by his intemperate habits, and when he came to jamaica he leagued himself with the most unruly and debauched men in the colony. he seems to have had no object but to increase his fortune at the expense of the island. before he sailed he had boldly petitioned for powers to dispose of money without the advice and consent of his council, and, if he saw fit, to reinstate into office sir henry morgan and robert byndloss. the king, however, decided that the suspension of morgan and byndloss should remain until albemarle had reported on their case from jamaica.[ ] when the duke entered upon his new government, he immediately appointed roger elletson to be chief justice of the island in the place of samuel bernard. three assistant-judges of the supreme court thereupon resigned their positions on the bench, and one was, in revenge, dismissed by the governor from the council. several other councillors were also suspended, contrary to the governor's instructions against arbitrary dismissal of such officers, and on th january sir henry morgan, upon the king's approval of the duke's recommendation, was re-admitted to the council-chamber.[ ] the old buccaneer, however, did not long enjoy his restored dignity. about a month later he succumbed to a sharp illness, and on th august was buried in st. catherine's church in port royal.[ ] in november a petition was presented to the king by the planters and merchants trading to jamaica protesting against the new régime introduced by lord albemarle:--"the once flourishing island of jamaica is likely to be utterly undone by the irregularities of some needy persons lately set in power. many of the most considerable inhabitants are deserting it, others are under severe fines and imprisonments from little or no cause.... the provost-marshal has been dismissed and an indebted person put in his place; and all the most substantial officers, civil and military, have been turned out and necessitous persons set up in their room. the like has been done in the judicial offices, whereby the benefit of appeals and prohibitions is rendered useless. councillors are suspended without royal order and without a hearing. several persons have been forced to give security not to leave the island lest they should seek redress; others have been brought before the council for trifling offences and innumerable fees taken from them; money has been raised twenty per cent. over its value to defend creditors. lastly, the elections have been tampered with by the indebted provost-marshal, and since the duke of albemarle's death are continued without your royal authority."[ ] the death of albemarle, indeed, at this opportune time was the greatest service he rendered to the colony. molesworth was immediately commanded to return to jamaica and resume authority. the duke's system was entirely reversed, and the government restored as it had been under the administration of sir thomas lynch. elletson was removed from the council and from his position as chief justice, and bernard returned in his former place. all of the rest of albemarle's creatures were dismissed from their posts, and the supporters of lynch's régime again put in control of a majority in the council.[ ] this measure of plain justice was one of the last acts of james ii. as king of england. on th november william of orange landed in england at torbay, and on nd december james escaped to france to live as a pensioner of louis xiv. the new king almost immediately wrote to jamaica confirming the reappointment of molesworth, and a commission to the latter was issued on th july .[ ] molesworth, unfortunately for the colony, died within a few days,[ ] and the earl of inchiquin was appointed on th september to succeed him.[ ] sir francis watson, president of the council in jamaica, obeyed the instructions of william iii., although he was a partizan of albemarle; yet so high was the feeling between the two factions that the greatest confusion reigned in the government of the island until the arrival of inchiquin in may .[ ] the revolution of , by placing william of orange on the english throne, added a powerful kingdom to the european coalition which in attacked louis xiv. over the question of the succession of the palatinate. that james ii. should accept the hospitality of the french monarch and use france as a basis for attack on england and ireland was, quite apart from william's sympathy with the protestants on the continent, sufficient cause for hostilities against france. war broke out in may , and was soon reflected in the english and french colonies in the west indies. de cussy, in hispaniola, led an expedition of men, many of them filibusters, against st. jago de los cavalleros in the interior of the island, and took and burnt the town. in revenge the spaniards, supported by an english fleet which had just driven the french from st. kitts, appeared in january before cap françois, defeated and killed de cussy in an engagement near the town, and burned and sacked the settlement. three hundred french filibusters were killed in the battle. the english fleet visited leogane and petit goave in the _cul-de-sac_ of hispaniola, and then sailed to jamaica. de cussy before his death had seized the opportunity to provide the freebooters with new commissions for privateering, and english shipping suffered severely.[ ] laurens with men touched at montego bay on the north coast in october, and threatened to return and plunder the whole north side of the island. the people were so frightened that they sent their wives and children to port royal; and the council armed several vessels to go in pursuit of the frenchmen.[ ] it was a new experience to feel the danger of invasion by a foreign foe. the jamaicans had an insight into the terror which their spanish neighbours felt for the buccaneers, whom the english islanders had always been so ready to fit out, or to shield from the arm of the law. laurens in the meantime was as good as his word. he returned to jamaica in the beginning of december with several vessels, seized eight or ten english trading sloops, landed on the north shore and plundered a plantation.[ ] war with france was formally proclaimed in jamaica on the th of january .[ ] two years later, in january , lord inchiquin also succumbed to disease in jamaica, and in the following june colonel william beeston was chosen by the queen to act as lieutenant-governor.[ ] inchiquin before he left england had solicited for the power to call in and pardon pirates, so as to strengthen the island during the war by adding to its forces men who would make good fighters on both land and sea. the committee on trade and plantations reported favourably on the proposal, but the power seems never to have been granted.[ ] in january , however, the president of the council of jamaica began to issue commissions to privateers, and in a few months the surrounding seas were full of armed jamaican sloops.[ ] on th june of the same year the colony suffered a disaster which almost proved its destruction. a terrible earthquake overwhelmed port royal and "in ten minutes threw down all the churches, dwelling-houses and sugar-works in the island. two-thirds of port royal were swallowed up by the sea, all the forts and fortifications demolished and great part of its inhabitants miserably knocked on the head or drowned."[ ] the french in hispaniola took advantage of the distress caused by the earthquake to invade the island, and nearly every week hostile bands landed and plundered the coast of negroes and other property.[ ] in december a party of swooped down in the night upon st. davids, only seven leagues from port royal, plundered the whole parish, and got away again with slaves.[ ] in the following april ducasse, the new french governor of hispaniola, sent buccaneers in six small vessels to repeat the exploit, but the marauders met an english man-of-war guarding the coast, and concluding "that they would only get broken bones and spoil their men for any other design," they retired whence they had come.[ ] two months later, however, a much more serious incursion was made. an expedition of twenty-two vessels and men, recruited in france and instigated, it is said, by irish and jacobite refugees, set sail under ducasse on th june with the intention of conquering the whole of jamaica. the french landed at point morant and cow bay, and for a month cruelly desolated the whole south-eastern portion of the island. then coasting along the southern shore they made a feint on port royal, and landed in carlisle bay to the west of the capital. after driving from their breastworks the english force of men, they again fell to ravaging and burning, but finding they could make no headway against the jamaican militia, who were now increased to men, in the latter part of july they set sail with their plunder for hispaniola.[ ] jamaica had been denuded of men by the earthquake and by sickness, and lieutenant-governor beeston had wisely abandoned the forts in the east of the island and concentrated all his strength at port royal.[ ] it was this expedient which doubtless saved the island from capture, for ducasse feared to attack the united jamaican forces behind strong intrenchments. the harm done to jamaica by the invasion, however, was very great. the french wholly destroyed fifty sugar works and many plantations, burnt and plundered about houses, and killed every living thing they found. thirteen hundred negroes were carried off besides other spoil. in fighting the jamaicans lost about killed and wounded, but the loss of the french seems to have been several times that number. after the french returned home ducasse reserved all the negroes for himself, and many of the freebooters who had taken part in the expedition, exasperated by such a division of the spoil, deserted the governor and resorted to buccaneering on their own account.[ ] colonel, now become sir william, beeston, from his first arrival in jamaica as lieutenant-governor, had fixed his hopes upon a joint expedition with the spaniards against the french at petit goave; but the inertia of the spaniards, and the loss of men and money caused by the earthquake, had prevented his plans from being realized.[ ] in the early part of , however, an army of soldiers on a fleet of twenty-three ships sailed from england under command of commodore wilmot for the west indies. uniting with spaniards from san domingo and the barlovento fleet of three sail, they captured and sacked cap françois and port de paix in the french end of the island. it had been the intention of the allies to proceed to the _cul-de-sac_ and destroy petit goave and leogane, but they had lost many men by sickness and bad management, and the spaniards, satisfied with the booty already obtained, were anxious to return home. so the english fleet sailed away to port royal.[ ] these hostilities so exhausted both the french in hispaniola and the english in jamaica that for a time the combatants lay back to recover their strength. the last great expedition of this war in the west indies serves as a fitting close to the history of the buccaneers. on th september ducasse received from the french minister of marine, pontchartrain, a letter informing him that the king had agreed to the project of a large armament which the sieur de pointis, aided by private capital, was preparing for an enterprise in the mexican gulf.[ ] ducasse, although six years earlier he had written home urging just such an enterprise against vera cruz or cartagena, now expressed his strong disapproval of the project, and dwelt rather on the advantages to be gained by the capture of spanish hispaniola, a conquest which would give the french the key to the indies. a second letter from pontchartrain in january , however, ordered him to aid de pointis by uniting all the freebooters and keeping them in the colony till th february. it was a difficult task to maintain the buccaneers in idleness for two months and prohibit all cruising, especially as de pointis, who sailed from brest in the beginning of january, did not reach petit goave till about st march.[ ] the buccaneers murmured and threatened to disband, and it required all the personal ascendancy of ducasse to hold them together. the sieur de pointis, although a man of experience and resource, capable of forming a large design and sparing nothing to its success, suffered from two very common faults--vanity and avarice. he sometimes allowed the sense of his own merits to blind him to the merits of others, and considerations of self-interest to dim the brilliance of his achievements. of ducasse he was insanely jealous, and during the whole expedition he tried in every way to humiliate him. unable to bring himself to conciliate the unruly spirit of the buccaneers, he told them plainly that he would lead them not as a companion in fortune but as a military superior, and that they must submit themselves to the same rules as the men on the king's ships. the freebooters rebelled under the haughtiness of their commander, and only ducasse's influence was able to bring them to obedience.[ ] on th march the ships were all gathered at the rendezvous at cape tiburon, and on the th of the following month anchored two leagues to the east of cartagena.[ ] de pointis had under his command about men, half of them seamen, the rest soldiers. the reinforcements he had received from ducasse numbered , and of these were buccaneers commanded by ducasse himself. he had nine frigates, besides seven vessels belonging to the buccaneers, and numerous smaller boats.[ ] the appearance of so formidable an armament in the west indies caused a great deal of concern both in england and in jamaica. martial law was proclaimed in the colony and every means taken to put port royal in a state of defence.[ ] governor beeston, at the first news of de pointis' fleet, sent advice to the governors of porto bello and havana, against whom he suspected that the expedition was intended.[ ] a squadron of thirteen vessels was sent out from england under command of admiral nevill to protect the british islands and the spanish treasure fleets, for both the galleons and the flota were then in the indies.[ ] nevill touched at barbadoes on th april,[ ] and then sailed up through the leeward islands towards hispaniola in search of de pointis. the frenchman, however, had eluded him and was already before cartagena. cartagena, situated at the eastward end of a large double lagoon, was perhaps the strongest fortress in the indies, and the spaniards within opposed a courageous defence.[ ] after a fortnight of fighting and bombardment, however, on the last day of april the outworks were carried by a brilliant assault, and on th may the small spanish garrison, followed by the _cabildo_ or municipal corporation, and by many of the citizens of the town, in all about persons, marched out with the honours of war. although the spaniards had been warned of the coming of the french, and before their arrival had succeeded in withdrawing the women and some of their riches to mompos in the interior, the treasure which fell into the hands of the invaders was enormous, and has been variously estimated at from six million crowns to twenty millions sterling. trouble soon broke out between de pointis and the buccaneers, for the latter wanted the whole of the plunder to be divided equally among the men, as had always been their custom, and they expected, according to this arrangement, says de pointis in his narrative, about a quarter of all the booty. de pointis, however, insisted upon the order which he had published before the expedition sailed from petit goave, that the buccaneers should be subject to the same rule in the division of the spoil as the sailors in the fleet, i.e., they should receive one-tenth of the first million and one-thirtieth of the rest. moreover, fearing that the buccaneers would take matters into their own hands, he had excluded them from the city while his officers gathered the plunder and carried it to the ships. on the repeated remonstrances of ducasse, de pointis finally announced that the share allotted to the men from hispaniola was , crowns. the buccaneers, finding themselves so miserably cheated, broke out into open mutiny, but were restrained by the influence of their leader and the presence of the king's frigates. de pointis, meanwhile, seeing his own men decimated by sickness, put all the captured guns on board the fleet and made haste to get under sail for france. south of jamaica he fell in with the squadron of admiral nevill, to which in the meantime had been joined some eight dutch men-of-war; but de pointis, although inferior in numbers, outsailed the english ships and lost but one or two of his smaller vessels. he then man[oe]uvred past cape s. antonio, round the north of cuba and through the bahama channel to newfoundland, where he stopped for fresh wood and water, and after a brush with a small english squadron under commodore norris, sailed into the harbour of brest on th august .[ ] the buccaneers, even before de pointis sailed for france, had turned their ships back toward cartagena to reimburse themselves by again plundering the city. de pointis, indeed, was then very ill, and his officers were in no condition to oppose them. after the fleet had departed the freebooters re-entered cartagena, and for four days put it to the sack, extorting from the unfortunate citizens, and from the churches and monasteries, several million more in gold and silver. embarking for the isle la vache, they had covered but thirty leagues when they met with the same allied fleet which had pursued de pointis. of the nine buccaneer vessels, the two which carried most of the booty were captured, two more were driven ashore, and the rest succeeded in escaping to hispaniola. ducasse, who had returned to petit goave when de pointis sailed for france, sent one of his lieutenants on a mission to the french court to complain of the ill-treatment he had received from de pointis, and to demand his own recall; but the king pacified him by making him a chevalier of st. louis, and allotting , , francs to the french colonists who had aided in the expedition. the money, however, was slow in reaching the hands of those to whom it was due, and much was lost through the malversations of the men charged with its distribution.[ ] * * * * * with the capture of cartagena in the history of the buccaneers may be said to end. more and more during the previous twenty years they had degenerated into mere pirates, or had left their libertine life for more civilised pursuits. since the english government had been consistent in its policy of suppressing the freebooters, and with few exceptions the governors sent to jamaica had done their best to uphold and enforce the will of the councils at home. ten years or more had to elapse before the french court saw the situation in a similar light, and even then the exigencies of war and defence in french hispaniola prevented the governors from taking any effective measures toward suppression. the problem, indeed, had not been an easy one. the buccaneers, whatever their origin, were intrepid men, not without a sense of honour among themselves, wedded to a life of constant danger which they met and overcame with surprising hardiness. when an expedition was projected against their traditional foes, the spaniards, they calculated the chances of profit, and taking little account of the perils to be run, or indeed of the flag under which they sailed, english, french and dutch alike became brothers under a chief whose courage they perfectly recognised and whom they servilely obeyed. they lived at a time when they were in no danger of being overhauled by ubiquitous cruisers with rifled guns, and so long as they confined themselves to his catholic majesty's ships and settlements, they had trusted in the immunity arising from the traditional hostility existing between the english and the spaniards of that era. and for the spaniards the record of the buccaneers had been a terrible one. between the years and alone, the corsairs had sacked eighteen cities, four towns and more than thirty-five villages--cumana once, cumanagote twice, maracaibo and gibraltar twice, rio de la hacha five times, santa marta three times, tolu eight times, porto bello once, chagre twice, panama once, santa catalina twice, granada in nicaragua twice, campeache three times, st. jago de cuba once, and other towns and villages in cuba and hispaniola for thirty leagues inland innumerable times. and this fearful tale of robbery and outrage does not embrace the various expeditions against porto bello, campeache, cartagena and other spanish ports made after . the marquis de barinas in estimated the losses of the spaniards at the hands of the buccaneers since the accession of charles ii. to be sixty million crowns; and these figures covered merely the destruction of towns and treasure, without including the loss of more than merchant ships and frigates.[ ] if the losses and suffering of the spaniards had been terrible, the advantages accruing to the invaders, or to the colonies which received and supported them, scarcely compensated for the effort it cost them. buccaneering had denuded jamaica of its bravest men, lowered the moral tone of the island, and retarded the development of its natural resources. it was estimated that there were lost to the island between and , in the designs against tobago, curaçao, porto bello, granada and panama, about men,[ ] which was a large number for a new and very weak colony surrounded by powerful foes. says the same writer later on: "people have not married, built or settled as they would in time of peace--some for fear of being destroyed, others have got much suddenly by privateers bargains and are gone. war carries away all freemen, labourers and planters of provisions, which makes work and victuals dear and scarce. privateering encourages all manner of disorder and dissoluteness; and if it succeed, does but enrich the worst sort of people and provoke and alarm the spaniards."[ ] the privateers, moreover, really injured english trade as much as they injured spanish navigation; and if the english in the second half of the seventeenth century had given the spaniards as little cause for enmity in the west indies as the dutch had done, they perhaps rather than the dutch would have been the convoys and sharers in the rich flotas. the spaniards, moreover, if not in the court at home, at least in the colonies, would have readily lent themselves to a trade, illicit though it be, with the english islands, a trade, moreover, which it was the constant aim of english diplomacy to encourage and maintain, had they been able to assure themselves that their english neighbours were their friends. but when outrage succeeded upon outrage, and the english governors seemed, in spite of their protestations of innocence, to make no progress toward stopping them, the spaniards naturally concluded that the english government was the best of liars and the worst of friends. from another point of view, too, the activity of the buccaneers was directly opposed to the commercial interests of great britain. of all the nations of europe the spaniards were those who profited least from their american possessions. it was the english, the french and the dutch who carried their merchandize to cadiz and freighted the spanish-american fleets, and who at the return of these fleets from porto bello and vera cruz appropriated the greater part of the gold, silver and precious stuffs which composed their cargoes. and when the buccaneers cut off a spanish galleon, or wrecked the spanish cities on the main, it was not so much the spaniards who suffered as the foreign merchants interested in the trade between spain and her colonies. if the policy of the english and french governments toward the buccaneers gradually changed from one of connivance or encouragement to one of hostility and suppression, it was because they came to realise that it was easier and more profitable to absorb the trade and riches of spanish america through the peaceful agencies of treaty and concession, than by endeavouring to enforce a trade in the old-fashioned way inaugurated by drake and his elizabethan contemporaries. the pirate successors of the buccaneers were distinguished from their predecessors mainly by the fact that they preyed on the commerce of all flags indiscriminately, and were outlawed and hunted down by all nations alike. they, moreover, widely extended their field of operations. no longer content with the west indies and the shores of the caribbean sea, they sailed east to the coast of guinea and around africa to the indian ocean. they haunted the shores of madagascar, the red sea and the persian gulf, and ventured even as far as the malabar coast, intercepting the rich trade with the east, the great ships from bengal and the islands of spice. and not only did the outlaws of all nations from america and the west indies flock to these regions, but sailors from england were fired by reports of the rich spoils obtained to imitate their example. one of the most remarkable instances was that of captain henry avery, _alias_ bridgman. in may avery was on an english merchantman, the "charles ii.," lying near corunna. he persuaded the crew to mutiny, set the captain on shore, re-christened the ship the "fancy," and sailed to the east indies. among other prizes he captured, in september , a large vessel called the "gunsway," belonging to the great mogul--an exploit which led to reprisals and the seizure of the english factories in india. on application of the east india company, proclamations were issued on th july, th and st august , by the lords justices of england, declaring avery and his crew pirates and offering a reward for their apprehension.[ ] five of the crew were seized on their return to england in the autumn of the same year, were tried at the old bailey and hanged, and several of their companions were arrested later.[ ] in the north american colonies these new pirates still continued to find encouragement and protection. carolina had long had an evil reputation as a hot-bed of piracy, and deservedly so. the proprietors had removed one governor after another for harbouring the freebooters, but with little result. in the bahamas, which belonged to the same proprietors, the evil was even more flagrant. governor markham of the quaker colony of pennsylvania allowed the pirates to dispose of their goods and to refit upon the banks of the delaware, and william penn, the proprietor, showed little disposition to reprimand or remove him. governor fletcher of new york was in open alliance with the outlaws, accepted their gifts and allowed them to parade the streets in broad daylight. the merchants of new york, as well as those of rhode island and massachusetts, who were prevented by the navigation laws from engaging in legitimate trade with other nations, welcomed the appearance of the pirate ships laden with goods from the east, provided a ready market for their cargoes, and encouraged them to repeat their voyages. in an act was passed through parliament of such severity as to drive many of the outlaws from american waters. it was largely a revival of the act of , henry viii., was in force for seven years, and was twice renewed. the war of the spanish succession, moreover, gave many men of piratical inclinations an opportunity of sailing under lawful commissions as privateers against the french and spaniards. in this long war, too, the french filibusters were especially numerous and active. in there were or who made their headquarters in martinique alone.[ ] while keeping the french islands supplied with provisions and merchandise captured in their prizes, they were a serious discouragement to english commerce in those regions, especially to the trade with the north american colonies. occasionally they threatened the coasts of virginia and new england, and some combined with their west indian cruises a foray along the coasts of guinea and into the red sea. these corsairs were not all commissioned privateers, however, for some of them seized french shipping with as little compunction as english or dutch. especially after the treaty of utrecht there was a recrudescence of piracy both in the west indies and in the east, and it was ten years or more thereafter before the freebooters were finally suppressed. footnotes: [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , . _cf._ also nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. - , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , . paine was sent from jamaica under arrest to governor de cussy in , and thence was shipped on a frigate to france. (bibl. nat., nouv. acq., , f. .)] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , ; _cf._ also nos. , , . in june we learn that "hamlin, captain of la trompeuse, got into a ship of thirty-six guns on the coast of the main last month, with sixty of his old crew and as many new men. they call themselves pirates, and their ship la nouvelle trompeuse, and talk of their old station at isle de vaches." (ibid., no. .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , - , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , ; _cf._ also nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , . coxon continued to vacillate between submission to the governor of jamaica and open rebellion. in october he was sent by sir thos. lynch with three vessels to the gulf of honduras to fetch away the english logwood-cutters. "his men plotted to take the ship and go privateering, but he valiently resisted, killed one or two with his own hand, forced eleven overboard, and brought three here (port royal) who were condemned last friday." (ibid., no. . letter of sir thos. lynch, th nov. .) a year later, in november , he had again reverted to piracy (_ibid._, no. ), but in january surrendered to lieut.-governor molesworth and was ordered to be arrested and tried at st. jago de la vega (_ibid._, - , no. ). he probably in the meantime succeeded in escaping from the island, for in the following november he was reported to be cutting logwood in the gulf of campeache, and molesworth was issuing a proclamation declaring him an outlaw (_ibid._, no. ). he remained abroad until september when he again surrendered to the governor of jamaica (_ibid._, no. ), and again by some hook or crook obtained his freedom.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : he is not to be confused with the peter paine who brought "la trompeuse" to port royal. thomas pain, a few months before he arrived in the bahamas, had come in and submitted to sir thomas lynch, and had been sent out again by the governor to cruise after pirates. (c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. viii. p. . in there were between and filibusters who made their headquarters in french hispaniola. they had seventeen vessels at sea with batteries ranging from four to fifty guns. (c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; bibl. nat., nouv. acq., , f. .)] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. viii. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; charlevoix, liv. viii. p. ; narrative contained in "the voyages and adventures of captain barth, sharpe and others in the south sea." lon. . governor lynch wrote in july : "all the governors in america have known of this very design for four or five months." duro, quoting from a spanish ms. in the coleccion navarrete, t. x. no. , says that the booty at vera cruz amounted to more than three million reales de plata in jewels and merchandise, for which the invaders demanded a ransom of , pieces of eight. they also carried away, according to the account, slaves. (_op. cit._, v. p. .) a real de plata was one-eighth of a peso or piece of eight.] [footnote : s.p. spain, vol. , f. .] [footnote : ibid., vol. , f. ; c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : during de franquesnay's short tenure of authority, laurens, driven from hispaniola by the stern measures of the governor against privateers, made it understood that he desired to enter the service of the governor of jamaica. the privy council empowered lynch to treat with him, offering pardon and permission to settle on the island on giving security for his future good behaviour. but de cussy arrived in the meantime, reversed the policy of de franquesnay, received laurens with all the honour due to a military hero, and endeavoured to engage him in the services of the government (charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. viii. pp. , ; c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , and ).] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. viii. pp. - ; c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. ix. pp. - ; duro., _op. cit._, v. pp. - ; c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , .] [footnote : according to charlevoix, de grammont was a native of paris, entered the royal marine, and distinguished himself in several naval engagements. finally he appeared in the west indies as the commander of a frigate armed for privateering, and captured near martinique a dutch vessel worth , livres. he carried his prize to hispaniola, where he lost at the gaming table and consumed in debauchery the whole value of his capture; and not daring to return to france he joined the buccaneers.] [footnote : "laurens-cornille baldran, sieur de graff, lieutenant du roi en l'isle de saint domingue, capitaine de frégate légère, chevalier de saint louis"--so he was styled after entering the service of the french king (vaissière, _op cit._, p. , note). according to charlevoix he was a native of holland, became a gunner in the spanish navy, and for his skill and bravery was advanced to the post of commander of a vessel. he was sent to american waters, captured by the buccaneers, and joined their ranks. such was the terror inspired by his name throughout all the spanish coasts that in the public prayers in the churches heaven was invoked to shield the inhabitants from his fury. divorced from his first wife, whom he had married at teneriffe in , he was married again in march to a norman or breton woman named marie-anne dieu-le-veult, the widow of one of the first inhabitants of tortuga (_ibid._). the story goes that marie-anne, thinking one day that she had been grievously insulted by laurens, went in search of the buccaneer, pistol in hand, to demand an apology for the outrage. de graff, judging this amazon to be worthy of him, turned about and married her (ducéré, _op. cit._, p. , note). in october laurens de graff, in company with iberville, sailed from rochefort with two ships, and in mobile and at the mouths of the mississippi laid the foundations of louisiana (duro, _op. cit._, v. p. ). de graff died in may . _cf._ also bibl. nat., nouv. acq., f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , . dampier writes ( ) that "it hath been usual for many years past for the governor of petit guaves to send blank commissions to sea by many of his captains, with orders to dispose of them to whom they saw convenient.... i never read any of these french commissions ... but i have learnt since that the tenor of them is to give a liberty to fish, fowl and hunt. the occasion of this is, that ... in time of peace these commissions are given as a warrant to those of each side (i.e., french and spanish in hispaniola) to protect them from the adverse party: but in effect the french do not restrain them to hispaniola, but make them a pretence for a general ravage in any part of america, by sea or land."--edition , i. pp. - .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , , ; _ibid._, - , no. . in a memoir of mm. de st. laurent and begon to the french king in february , they report that in the previous year some french filibusters discovered in a patache captured from the spaniards a letter from the governor of jamaica exhorting the spaniards to make war on the french in hispaniola, and promising them vessels and other means for entirely destroying the colony. this letter caused a furious outburst of resentment among the french settlers against the english (_cf._ also c.s.p. colon., - , no. ). shortly after, according to the memoir, an english ship of guns appeared for several days cruising in the channel between tortuga and port de paix. the sieur de franquesnay, on sending to ask for an explanation of this conduct, received a curt reply to the effect that the sea was free to everyone. the french governor thereupon sent a barque with filibusters to attack the englishman, but the filibusters returned well beaten. in despair de franquesnay asked captain de grammont, who had just returned from a cruise in a ship of guns, to go out against the intruder. with of the corsairs at his back de grammont attacked the english frigate. the reception accorded by the latter was as vigorous as before, but the result was different, for de grammont at once grappled with his antagonist, boarded her and put all the english except the captain to the sword.--bibl. nat., nouv. acq., f. . no reference to this incident is found in the english colonial records.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. ; _ibid._, - , nos. , , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , ; _ibid._, - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; bibl. nat., nouv. acq., , f. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , ; _ibid._, - , nos. , , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , . his ship is called in these letters "la trompeuse." unless this is a confusion with hamlin's vessel, there must have been more than one "la trompeuse" in the west indies. very likely the fame or ill-fame of the original "la trompeuse" led other pirate captains to flatter themselves by adopting the same name. breha was captured in by the armada de barlovento and hung with nine or ten of his companions (charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. ix. p. ).] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , ; hughson: carolina pirates, p. .] [footnote : ibid., - , no. .] [footnote : hughson, _op. cit._, p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. ; _cf._ also _ibid._, - , no. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , ; _ibid._, - , no. and _cf._ index. for the careers of john williams (_alias_ yankey) and jacob everson (_alias_ jacobs) during these years _cf._ c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , - , , , ; hist. mss. comm., xi. pt. , p. (earl of dartmouth's mss.).] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , ; _ibid._, - , nos. , ; hist. mss. commiss., xi. pt. , p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , , , , .] [footnote : dict. of nat. biog.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. ; _cf._ also .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , , - , , - , , , , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; ibid., - , nos. , vii., .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , .] [footnote : ibid., no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. - , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , .] [footnote : ibid., - , nos. , , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , ; archives coloniales, corresp. gen. de st. dom. iii. letter of ducasse, march .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , (i.).] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , , , , , , , ; charlevoix, i. x. p. _ff._; stowe mss., f., b; ducéré: les corsaires sous l'ancien regime, p. .] [footnote : the number of white men on the island at this time was variously estimated from to men. (c.s.p. colon., - , nos. and .)] [footnote : c.s.p. colon, - , no. .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , , , , , . according to charlevoix, it was the dalliance and cowardice of laurens de graff, who was in command at cap françois, and feared falling into the hands of his old enemies the english and spaniards, which had much to do with the success of the invasion. after the departure of the allies laurens was deprived of his post and made captain of a light corvette. (charlevoix, i. x. p. _ff._)] [footnote : ducéré, _op. cit._ p. .] [footnote : narrative of de pointis.] [footnote : narrative of de pointis; c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : narrative of de pointis; c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : narrative of de pointis.] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. - , , , .] [footnote : ibid., nos. , .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , nos. , .] [footnote : ibid., . .] [footnote : the mouth of the harbour, called boca chica, was defended by a fort with bastions and guns; but the guns were badly mounted on flimsy carriages of cedar, and were manned by only soldiers. inside the harbour was another fort called santa cruz, well-built with bastions and a moat, but provided with only a few iron guns and without a garrison. two other forts formed part of the exterior works of the town, but they had neither garrison nor guns. the city itself was surrounded by solid walls of stone, with bastions and brass cannon, to man which there was a company of soldiers. such was the war footing on which the spanish government maintained the "key of the indies." (duro, _op. cit._, v. p. .)] [footnote : narrative of de pointis. _cf._ charlevoix, _op cit._, liv. xi., for the best account of the whole expedition.] [footnote : charlevoix, _op. cit._, liv. xi. p. . in one of the articles of capitulation which the governor of cartagena obtained from de pointis, the latter promised to leave untouched the plate, jewels and other treasure of the churches and convents. this article was not observed by the french. on the return of the expedition to france, however, louis xiv. ordered the ecclesiastical plate to be sequestered, and after the conclusion of the peace of ryswick sent it back to san domingo to be delivered to the governor and clergy of the spanish part of the island. (duro, _op. cit._, v. pp. , - ).] [footnote : duro, _op. cit._, v. p. .] [footnote : c.s.p. colon., - , no. .] [footnote : ibid.; _cf._ c.s.p. colon., - , no. : "the number of tippling houses is now doubly increased, so that there is not now resident upon the place ten men to every house that selleth strong liquors. there are more than licensed houses, besides sugar and rum works that sell without licence."] [footnote : crawford: bibliotheca lindesiana. handlist of proclamations.] [footnote : firth: naval songs and ballads, pp. l.-lii.; _cf._ also archives coloniales, corresp. gén. de st dom., vols. iii.-ix.; ibid., martinique, vols. viii.-xix.] [footnote : archives coloniales, corresp. gén. de martinique, vol. xvi.] appendix i an account of the english buccaneers belonging to jamaica and tortuga in , found among the rawlinson mss., makes the number of privateering ships fifteen, and the men engaged in the business nearly a thousand. the list is as follows:-- _captain ship men guns_ sir thomas whetstone a spanish prize captain smart griffon, frigate captain guy james, frigate captain james american, frigate captain cooper his frigate captain morris a brigantine captain brenningham his frigate captain mansfield a brigantine captain goodly a pink captain blewfield, belonging to cape gratia de dios, living among the indians a barque captain herdue a frigate there were four more belonging to jamaica, of which no account was available. the crews were mixed of english, french and dutch. appendix ii list of filibusters and their vessels on the coasts of french san domingo in :-- _captain ship men guns_ le sieur grammont le hardy " capitaine laurens de graff " neptune " " michel la mutine " " janquais " dauphine " " le sage le tigre " " dedran " chasseur " sieur du mesnil la trompeuse " capitaine jocard l'irondelle " " brea la fortune la prise du cap^ne. laurens -- le sieur de bernanos la schitie " capitaine cachemarée le st joseph " " blot la quagone " " vigeron " louse (barque) " " petit le ruzé (bateau) " " lagarde la subtille " " verpre le postilion (paris, archives coloniales, corresp. gén. de st. dom., vol. i.--mémoire sur l'estat de saint domingue à m. de seignelay par m. de cussy.) sources and bibliography manuscript sources in england _public record office:_ state papers. foreign. spain. vols. - . (abbreviated in the footnotes as s.p. spain.) _british museum:_ additional mss. vols. , ; , - ; , ; , ; , - ; , ; , ; , ; , ; , ; , ; , - . egerton mss. vol. . sloane mss. vols. or ; ; ; . stowe mss. vols. f; b. _bodleian library:_ rawlinson mss. vols. a. , , , , . tanner mss. vols. xlvii.; li. manuscript sources in france _archives du ministère des colonies:_ correspondance générale de saint-domingue. vols. i.-ix. historique de saint-domingue. vols. i.-iii. correspondance générale de martinique. vols. i.-xix. _archives du ministère des affaires étrangères:_ mémoires et documents. fonds divers. amérique. vols. v., xiii., xlix., li. correspondance politique. angleterre. _bibliothèque nationale:_ manuscrits, nouvelles acquisitions. vols. ; . renaudat mss. printed sources calendar of state papers. colonial series. america and the west indies. - . (abbreviated in the footnotes as c.s.p. colon.) calendar of state papers. venetian. - . (abbreviated in the footnotes as c.s.p. ven.) dampier, william: voyages. edited by j. masefield. vols. london, . gage, thomas: the english american ... or a new survey of the west indies, etc. london, . historical manuscripts commission: reports. london, (in progress). margry, pierre: relations et mémoires inédits pour servir à l'histoire de la france dans les pays d'outremer. paris, . pacheco, cardenas, y torres de mendoza: coleccion de documentos relativos al describrimiento, conquista y colonizacion de las posesiones españoles en américa y oceania. vols. madrid, - ; _continued as_ coleccion de documentos ineditos ... de ultramar. vols. madrid, - . pointis, jean bernard desjeans, sieur de: relation de l'expedition de carthagène faite par les françois en . amsterdam, . present state of jamaica ... to which is added an exact account of sir henry morgan's voyage to ... panama, etc. london, . recopilacion de leyes de los reynos de las indias, mandadas imprimir y publicar por rey carlos ii. vols. madrid, . sharp, bartholomew: the voyages and adventures of captain b. sharp ... in the south sea ... also captain van horn with his buccanieres surprising of la vera cruz, etc. london, . thurloe, john. a collection of the state papers of, etc. edited by thomas birch. vols. london, . venables, general. the narrative of, etc. edited by c.h. firth. london, . wafer, lionel: a new voyage and description of the isthmus of america, etc. london, . winwood, sir ralph. memorials of affairs of state ... collected from the original papers of, etc. edited by edmund sawyer. london, . * * * * * among the printed sources one of the earliest and most important is the well-known history of the buccaneers written by alexander olivier exquemelin (corrupted by the english into esquemeling, by the french into oexmelin). of the author himself very little is known. though sometimes claimed as a native of france, he was probably a fleming or a hollander, for the first edition of his works was written in the dutch language. he came to tortuga in as an _engagé_ of the french west india company, and after serving three years under a cruel master was rescued by the governor, m. d'ogeron, joined the filibusters, and remained with them till , taking part in most of their exploits. he seems to have exercised among them the profession of barber-surgeon. returning to europe in , he published a narrative of the exploits in which he had taken part, or of which he at least had a first-hand knowledge. this "history" is the oldest and most elaborate chronicle we possess of the extraordinary deeds and customs of these freebooters who played so large a part in the history of the west indies in the seventeenth century, and it forms the basis of all the popular modern accounts of morgan and other buccaneer captains. exquemelin, although he sadly confuses his dates, seems to be a perfectly honest witness, and his accounts of such transactions as fell within his own experience are closely corroborated by the official narratives. (biographies of exquemelin are contained in the "biographie universelle" of michaud, vol. xxxi. p. , and in the "nouvelle biographie générale" of hoefer, vol. xxxviii. p. . but both are very unsatisfactory and display a lamentable ignorance of the bibliography of his history of the buccaneers. according to the preface of a french edition of the work published at lyons in and cited in the "nouvelle biographie," exquemelin was born about and died after .) the first edition of the book, now very rare, is entitled: de americaensche zee-roovers. behelsende eene pertinente en waerachtige beschrijving van alle de voornaemste roveryen en onmenschliycke wreend heden die englese en france rovers tegens de spanjaerden in america gepleeght hebben; verdeelt in drie deelen ... beschreven door a. o. exquemelin ... t'amsterdam, by jan ten hoorn, anno , in º. (brit. mus., . _cf._ ( ). the date, , of the first dutch edition cited by dampierre ("essai sur les sources de l'histoire des antilles françaises," p. ) is doubtless a misprint.) (both dampierre (_op. cit._, p. ) and sabin ("dict. of books relating to america," vi. p. ) cite, as the earliest separate account of the buccaneers, claes g. campaen's "zee-roover," amsterdam, . this little volume, however, does not deal with the buccaneers in the west indies, but with privateering along the coasts of europe and africa.) this book was reprinted several times and numerous translations were made, one on the top of the other. what appears to be a german translation of exquemelin appeared in with the title: americanische seeräuber. beschreibung der grössesten durch die französische und englische meer-beuter wider die spanier in amerika verübten raubery grausamheit ... durch a. o. nürnberg, . º. ("historie der boecaniers of vrybuyters van america ... met figuuren, deel. t'amsterdam, ," º.--brit. mus., . c. .) this was followed two years later by a spanish edition, also taken from the dutch original: piratas de la america y luz a la defensa de las costas de indias occidentales. dedicado a don bernadino antonio de pardinas villar de francos ... por el zelo y cuidado de don antonio freyre ... traducido de la lingua flamenca en espanola por el dor. de buena-maison ... colonia agrippina, en casa de lorenzo struickman. ano de . º. (brit. mus., g. . the appended description of the spanish government in america was omitted and a few spanish verses were added in one or two places, but otherwise the translation seems to be trustworthy. the portraits and the map of the isthmus of panama are the same as in the dutch edition, but the other plates are different and better. in the bibl. nat. there is another spanish edition of in quarto.) this spanish text, which seems to be a faithful rendering of the dutch, was reprinted with a different dedication in and in , and again in madrid in . it is the version on which the first english edition was based. the english translation is entitled: bucaniers of america; or a true account of the ... assaults committed ... upon the coasts of the west indies, by the bucaniers of jamaica and tortuga ... especially the ... exploits of sir henry morgan ... written originally in dutch by j. esquemeling ... now ... rendered into english. w. crooke; london, . º. (brit. mus., , a. (or) , h. .; g. .) the first english edition of exquemelin was so well received that within three months a second was published, to which was added the account of a voyage by captain cook and a brief chapter on the exploits of barth. sharp in the pacific ocean. in the same year, moreover, there appeared an entirely different english version, with the object of vindicating the character of morgan from the charges of brutality and lust which had appeared in the first translation and in the dutch original. it was entitled: the history of the bucaniers; being an impartial relation of all the battels, sieges, and other most eminent assaults committed for several years upon the coasts of the west indies by the pirates of jamaica and tortuga. more especially the unparalleled achievements of sir henry morgan ... very much corrected from the errors of the original, by the relations of some english gentlemen, that then resided in those parts. _den engelseman is een duyvil voor een mensch._ london, printed for thomas malthus at the sun in the poultry. . (brit. mus., g. , .) the first edition of was reprinted with a new title-page in , and again in . the latter included, in addition to the text of exquemelin, the journals of basil ringrose and raveneau de lussan, both describing voyages in the south seas, and the voyage of the sieur de montauban to guinea in . this was the earliest of the composite histories of the buccaneers and became the model for the dutch edition of and the french editions published at trevoux in and . the first french translation of exquemelin appeared two years after the english edition of . it is entitled: histoire des aventuriers qui se sont signalez dans les indes contenant ce qu'ils ont fait de plus remarquable depuis vingt années. avec la vie, les moeurs, les coutumes des habitans de saint domingue et de la tortuë et une description exacte de ces lieux; ... le tout enrichi de cartes geographiques et de figures en taille-douce. par alexandre olivier oexmelin. a paris, chez jacques le febre. mdclxxxvi., vols. º. (brit. mus., , aa. .) this version may have been based on the dutch original; although the only indication we have of this is the fact that the work includes at the end a description of the government and revenues of the spanish indies, a description which is found in none of the earlier editions of exquemelin, except in the dutch original of . the french text, however, while following the outline of exquemelin's narrative, is greatly altered and enlarged. the history of tortuga and french hispaniola is elaborated with details from another source, as are also the descriptions of the manners and customs of the cattle-hunters and the freebooters. accounts of two other buccaneers, montbars and alexandre bras-le-fer, are inserted, but d'ogeron's shipwreck on porto rico and the achievements of admiral d'estrees against the dutch are omitted. in general the french editor, the sieur de frontignières, has re-cast the whole story. a similar french edition appeared in paris in , (brit. mus., , a. , .) and in a facsimile of this last was published at brussels by serstevens (dampierre, p. ). sabin (_op. cit._, vi. ) mentions an edition of in three volumes which included the journal of raveneau de lussan. in , and again in , another french edition was published in four volumes at trevoux, to which was added the voyage of montauban to the guinea coast, and the expeditions against vera cruz in , campeache in , and cartagena in . the third volume contained the journal of r. de lussan, and the fourth a translation of johnson's "history of the pirates." (brit. mus., , aa. .) a similar edition appeared at lyons in , but i have had no opportunity of examining a copy. (nouvelle biographie générale, tom. xxxviii. . the best bibliography of exquemelin is in sabin, _op. cit._, vi. .) secondary works of the secondary works concerned with the history of the buccaneers, the oldest are the writings of the french jesuit historians of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. dutertre (histoire générale des antilles. paris, - ), a chronicler of events within his own experience as well as a reliable historian, unfortunately brings his narrative to a close in , but up to that year he is the safest guide to the history of the french antilles. labat, in his "nouveau voyage aux isles de l'amerique" (paris, ), gives an account of eleven years, between and , spent in martinique and guadeloupe, and although of little value as an historian, he supplies us with a fund of the most picturesque and curious details about the life and manners of the people in the west indies at the end of the seventeenth century. a much more important and accurate work is charlevoix's "histoire de l'isle espagnole ou de s. domingue" (paris, ), and this i have used as a general introduction to the history of the french buccaneers. raynal's "histoire philosophique et politique des établissements et du commerce européen dans les deux indes" (amsterdam, ) is based for the origin of the french antilles upon dutertre and labat and is therefore negligible for the period of the buccaneers. adrien dessalles, who in published his "histoire générale des antilles," preferred, like labat and raynal, to depend on the historians who had preceded him rather than endeavour to gain an intimate knowledge of the sources. in the english histories of jamaica written by long, bridges, and gardner, whatever notice is taken of the buccaneers is meagre and superficial, and the same is true of bryan edwards' "history, civil and commercial, of the british colonies in the west indies." thomas southey, in his "chronological history of the west indies" (lond. ), devotes considerable space to their achievements, but depends entirely upon the traditional sources. in j.w. von archenholz published "die geschichte der flibustier," a superficial, diffuse and even puerile narrative, giving no references whatever to authorities. (it was translated into french (paris, ), and into english by geo. mason (london, ).) in a "history of the buccaneers in america" was published by james burney as the fourth volume of "a chronological history of the discoveries in the south seas or pacific ocean." burney casts but a rapid glance over the west indies, devoting most of the volume to an account of the voyages of the freebooters along the coast of south america and in the east indies. walter thornbury in wrote "the buccaneers, or the monarchs of the main," a hasty compilation, florid and overdrawn, and without historical judgment or accuracy. in m. henri lorin presented a latin thesis to the faculty of history in paris, entitled:--"de praedonibus insulam santi dominici celebrantibus saeculo septimo decimo," but he seems to have confined himself to exquemelin, le pers, labat, dutertre and a few documents drawn from the french colonial archives. the best summary account in english of the history and significance of the buccaneers in the west indies is contained in hubert h. bancroft's "history of central america" (ii. chs. , - ). within the past year there has appeared an excellent volume by m. pierre de vaissière describing creole life and manners in the french colony of san domingo in the century and a half preceding the revolution. (vaissière, pierre de: saint dominigue. ( - ). paris, .) it is a reliable monograph, and like his earlier volume, "gentilshommes campagnards de l'ancienne france," is written in a most entertaining style. de vaissière contributes much valuable information, especially in the first chapter, about the origins and customs of the french "flibustiers." i have been able to find only two spanish works which refer at all to the buccaneers. one is entitled: piraterias y agresiones de los ingleses y de otros pueblos de europa en la america espanola desde el siglo xvi. al xviii., deducidas de las obras de d. dionisio de alcedo y herrera. madrid, . º. except for a long introduction by don justo zaragoza based upon exquemelin and alcedo, it consists of a collection of extracts referring to freebooters on the coasts of peru and chili, and deals chiefly with the eighteenth century. the other spanish work is an elaborate history of the spanish navy lately published in nine volumes by cesareo fernandez duro, and entitled:-- armada espanola desde la union de los reinos de castilla y de aragon. madrid, . there are numerous chapters dealing with the outrages of the french and english freebooters in the west indies, some of them based upon spanish sources to which i have had no access. but upon comparison of duro's narrative, which in so far as it relates to the buccaneers is often meagre, with the sources available to me, i find that he adds little to what may be learned on the subject here in england. one of the best english descriptions of the spanish colonial administration and commercial system is still that contained in book viii. of robertson's "history of america" (lond. ). the latest and best summary account, however, is in french, in the introduction to vol. i. of "la traite négrière aux indes de castille" (paris, ), by georges scelle. weiss, in vol. ii. of his history of "l'espagne depuis philippe ii. jusqu'aux bourbons" (paris, ), treats of the causes of the economic decadence of spain, and gives an account of the contraband trade in spanish america, drawn largely from labat. on this general subject leroy-beaulieu, "de la colonization chez les peuples modernes" (paris, ), has been especially consulted. the best account of the french privateers of the sixteenth century in america is in an essay entitled: "les corsairs français au xvi^e siècle dans les antilles" (paris, ), by gabriel marcel. it is a short monograph based on the collections of spanish documents brought together by pacheco and navarrete. the volume by e. ducéré entitled, "les corsairs sous l'ancien regîme" (bayonne, ), is also valuable for the history of privateering. for the history of the elizabethan mariners i have made use of the two works by j. s. corbett: "drake and the tudor navy" (lond. ), and "the successors of drake" (lond. ). other works consulted were: arias de miranda, josé: examen critico-historico del influyo que tuvo en el comercio, industria y poblacion de espana su dominacion en america. madrid, . blok, pieter johan: history of the people of the netherlands. translated by c. a. bierstadt and ruth putnam. vols. new york, . brown, alex.: the genesis of the united states. vols. lond., . crawford, james ludovic lindsay, th earl of: bibliotheca lindesiana. handlist of proclamations. vols. aberdeen, - . dumont, jean: corps universel diplomatique. vols. hague, - . froude, james anthony: history of england from the fall of wolsey to the defeat of the spanish armada. vols. - . english seamen in the sixteenth century. lond., . gardiner, samuel rawson: history of the commonwealth and protectorate, - . vols. lond., - . geographical and historical description of ... cartagena, porto bello, la vera cruz, the havana and san augustin. lond., . gibbs, archibald r.: british honduras ... from ... . lond., . hakluyt, richard: the principal navigations ... of the english nation, etc. vols. lond., - . herrera y tordesillas, antonio: historia general de las indias. vols. madrid, - . hughson, shirley c.: the carolina pirates and colonial commerce. baltimore, . lucas, c. p.: a historical geography of the british colonies. vols. oxford, . vol. ii. the west indies. monson, sir william: the naval tracts of ... edited ... by m. oppenheim. vols. i. and ii. lond., --(in progress). oviedo y valdes, gonzalo fernandez de: historia general de las indias. salamanca, . peytraud, lucien: l'esclavage aux antilles françaises avant , etc. paris, . saint-yves, g.: les compagnes de jean d'estrées dans la mer des antilles, - . paris, . strong, frank: causes of cromwell's west indian expedition. (amer. hist. review. jan. ). veitia linaje, josef de: norte de la contratacion de las indias occidentales. sevilla, . vignols, leon: la piraterie sur l'atlantique au xviii^e siècle. rennes, . index acapulco, aix-la-chapelle, peace of, _ajoupa_, , albemarle, first duke of, _see_ monck, george " second duke of, _see_ monck, christopher albuquerque, duke of, , alexander vi., bull of pope, , allison, captain (buccaneer), antigua, , , araya salt-mine, - archenholz, j.w. von, arlington, earl of, _see_ bennett, sir henry arundell, james, , assiento of negroes, , - , , _n._ association, island, _see_ tortuga aston, lord of forfar, avery, captain henry, - aves, isle d', _see_ isle d'aves aylett, captain (buccaneer), _azogues_, , azores, , , , , , bahama islands, , , and _n._, bahia, bancroft, hubert h., banister, major james, bannister, captain (buccaneer) _barbacoa_, barbadoes, , , , , and _n._, , , , , , etc. barbuda, barinas, marques de, barker, andrew, barlovento, armada de, , _n._, barnard, captain (buccaneer), barnes, captain ( " ), barre, charles, barry, colonel samuel, and _n._ beckford, peter, beeston, captain (afterwards sir), william, _n._, _n._, , and _n._, , , , , , , etc. begon, m. michel (intendant of the french islands), , _n._ benavides, don juan de, bennett, sir henry (afterwards earl of arlington), , , , , , , _n._, , , , etc. berkeley, sir thomas, bermuda, , , , bernanos, captain (buccaneer), bernard, samuel, , bigford, captain (buccaneer), "biscayners," - blake, captain, r.n., blewfield, captain (buccaneer), blot, captain (buccaneer), boston (mass.), bradley, lieutenant-colonel joseph (buccaneer), - brayne, lieutenant-general william, , , brazil, , , , , and _n._, breda, treaties of, breha, captain, _see_ landresson, michel brenningham, captain (buccaneer), brest, corsairs of, , , bridges, george w., browne, captain james (buccaneer), - browne, richard (buccaneer), , _n._, , buccaneers, cruelties of, - , _n._, _ff._ " customs of, - , _n._ " derivation of the word, buccaneers, laws against, _see_ laws against privateers and pirates " numbers of, , _n._, " origins of, , , - , - " suppression of, _ff._ " vessels of, buenos ayres, , bull of pope alexander vi., _see_ alexander vi. burney, james, burough, cornelius, butler, gregory (commissioner of jamaica), _n._ byndloss, colonel robert, , , cabral, pedro alvarez, cachemarée, captain (buccaneer), cadiz, _n._, and _n._, and _n._, , , , _n._, , , _n._, etc. campeache, city of, _n._, , - , , , , , " province of, , , _n._, , , , , , , , etc. campo y espinosa, don alonso del, , canary islands, , , , cap françois, , , , , _n._ caracas, , _n._, , , , , , , , cardenas, alonso de, , carey, colonel theod., , carleill, general christopher, carleton, sir dudley, viscount dorchester, carlile, captain charles, r.n., carlisle, earl of, _see_ howard, charles carolinas, , , , , , , , cartagena (new granada), _n._, , and _n._, , , , , , , , etc. cartago (costa rica), and _n._ _casa de contratacion_, , , _n._, , and _n._, catherine of braganza, cattle-hunters, - , , , - cavallos (honduras), cayenne (guiana), , cecil, robert, viscount cranborne and earl of salisbury, _n._, "centurion," , , and _n._ chagre, port of, , , " river, _n._, , , , chaloner, captain, charles i., king of england, , , " ii., king of england, , , , , , , , , , , etc. " ii., king of spain, " v., emperor, , _n._, , charleston (carolina), , charlevoix, pierre-françois-xavier, , , , , , , _n._, _n._, , _n._ _chasse-partie_, chili, , , , , _cinquantaines_, clandestine trade, and _n._, - , - , - clarke, robert (governor of the bahamas), - clifford, george, earl of cumberland, , , codrington, christopher (deputy-governor of nevis), colbert, jean-baptiste, marquis de seignelay, _n._, _n._ coligny, admiral gaspard de, colleton, james (governor of carolina), collier, edward (buccaneer), , , , _n._, _n._, colombia, u.s. of, _see_ new granada columbus, christopher, , _consulado_, , contraband trade, _see_ clandestine trade cooke, captain (buccaneer), cooper, captain (buccaneer), , corbett, julian s., cordova, don luis de, cornwallis, sir charles, , coro (venezuela), cortez, hernando, , costa rico, and _n._ cottington, francis, lord, - council of the indies, and _n._, , , _n._, "cour volant," - , and _n._ coventry, sir henry (secretary of state), coxon, captain john (buccaneer), , , , _n._, , - and _n._, , and _n._, , , etc. cranborne, viscount, _see_ cecil, robert criminals transported to the colonies, , , - cromwell, oliver, , - , , cuba, , , , , , , , , , , etc. cumana (venezuela), , , , cumanagote (venezuela), cumberland, earl of, _see_ clifford, george curaçao, , , , , , , , , , , etc. cussy, sieur tarin de (governor of french hispaniola), - and _n._, , , dalyson, captain william, _n._ dampier, william, _n._, _n._, _n._, _n._, _n._, _n._ daniel, captain (buccaneer), darien, isthmus of, , , , , , , , _n._, and _n._, , etc. deane, john (buccaneer), - dedran, captain (buccaneer), dempster, captain (buccaneer), deschamps, jérémie, seigneur de rausset (governor of tortuga), and _n._, , deseada, , , desjeans, jean-bernard, sieur de pointis, _ff._ dessalles, adrien, diaz pimienta, don francisco, , _n._ diego grillo (buccaneer), and _n._ dieppe, corsairs of, , dominica, , , , "don francisco," "don juan morf," and _n._, dorchester, viscount _see_ carleton, sir dudley doyley, colonel edward (governor of jamaica), , - , , and _n._, , , , , , , etc. drake, sir francis, , , , , , , , and _n._, , , etc. ducasse, jean-baptiste (governor of french hispaniola), - , , , , ducéré, eduard, - duro, cesario fernandez, _n._, _n._, _n._, dutch wars, _see_ war " west india company, , dutertre, jean-baptiste, , , _n._, _n._, , east indies, _see_ indies, east edmondes, sir thomas, edwards, bryan, elizabeth, queen, , , , , , , , , elletson, robert, , , , _engagés_, , - , equador, , esmit, adolf (governor of st. thomas), - " nicholas (governor of st. thomas), esnambuc, mons. d', essex, captain cornelius (buccaneer), , estrées, jean, comte d', _n._, - everson, captain jacob (buccaneer), and _n._, _n._ everson, jory (governor of st. thomas), exquemelin, alexander olivier, , , , , , _n._, _n._, _n._, _n._, - fanshaw, sir richard, , , , , , ferdinand and isabella, kings of spain, , fitzgerald, philip, - fletcher, benjamin (governor of new york), _flibustiers_, derivation of the word, ; _see_ buccaneers fload, captain (governor of tortuga), _n._ flores, _see_ azores. florida, , , . flota, , - , , , , and _n._, , , ; _cf. also_ treasure fleets fontenay, chevalier de (governor of tortuga), - , , fortescue, major-general richard, , , franquesnay, sieur de (governor of french hispaniola), , and _n._, _n._ french wars, _see_ war french west india company, , , , frobisher, martin, frogge, william, _n._, _n._, _n._, , _n._ fuemayor, rui fernandez de, and _n._ gage, thomas, _n._, , , _n._, galicia, company of, _n._ galleons, - , , , , _n._, , _n._, , ; _cf. also_ treasure fleets. galleons' passage, gardner, william j., gautemala, , , _n._, , gaves, don gabriel de, "gens de la côte," gibraltar (venezuela), , godolphin, sir william, , , , , , , , , - "golden hind," golden island, , goodly, captain (buccaneer), goodson, vice-admiral william, - , _n._, , graff, laurens-cornille baldran, sieur de, - , _n._, , and _n._, , - , _n._, grammont, sieur de (buccaneer), , - , - , , , , and _n._, and _n._ granada (nicaragua), _n._, , - , , , granjeria de las perlas (new granada), grenville, sir richard, guadaloupe, , , , , , "guanahani," guiana, , , , guinea, coast of, , , , , , , guipuzcoa, company of, _n._ "gunsway," guy, captain (buccaneer), guzman, gonzalo de, " don juan perez de, _see_ perez de guzman. hamlin, captain jean (buccaneer), - and _n._, _n._ hampton, thomas, - haro, don francisco de, _n._ " don luis de, harris, captain peter (buccaneer), , , harrison, captain, (buccaneer), hattsell, captain, ( " ), havana, , , , , , , , , , , etc. havre, corsairs, of, hawkins, sir john, , , , , , , , . " william, heath, attorney-general sir robert, henrietta island, , _n._ henry ii., king of france, " iv., " _n._, " viii. king of england, and _n._ herdue, captain (buccaneer), heyn, admiral piet, , hilton, captain (governor of tortuga), , hispaniola, , and _n._ , , , , , , , , etc. holland, earl of, _see_ rich, henry holmes, admiral sir robert, honduras, , , , , , , , hopton, sir arthur, howard, charles, earl of carlisle (governor of jamaica), , , , - , " sir philip, humanes, conde de, ibarra, don carlos, _n._ inchiquin, earl of, _see_ o'brien, william indian ocean, pirates in, _see_ pirates indians, _see_ spain, cruelties to indians indies, council of the, _see_ council " exclusion of foreigners from, _see_ spain indies, east, pirates in, _see_ pirates " west, colonisation of, - " " first english ship in, - "indults," interlopers, _see_ clandestine trade isabella, queen, _see_ ferdinand and isabella isle d'aves, and _n._, , , " la vache, , , , , , , , , _n._, , etc. jackman, captain (buccaneer), , jackson, captain william, , , jacobs, captain (buccaneer), _see_ everson jamaica, , , , , , , , , , , etc. " assembly of, , , , , , , , " council of, , , , , , , , , , , etc. james, captain (buccaneer), " ("president of tortuga"), _n._ james i., king of england, , , , _n._ " ii., king of england, , , , jamestown (virginia), jenkins, sir leoline, jiménez, don josé sánchez, jocard, captain (buccaneer), johnson, captain (buccaneer), - " " r.n., "judith," _juzgado de indias_, _n._ kingston (jamaica), , knollys, francis, , labat, jean-baptiste, , - , , , lagarde, captain (buccaneer), la guayra (venezuela), - lancers, _see cinquantaines_ landresson, captain michel, _alias_ breha (buccaneer), and _n._, , langford, captain abraham, - las casas, bartolomé de, bishop of chiapa, laurens de graff, _see_ graff. la vivon, mons., - and _n._ laws against privateers and pirates, , , , , , - , - , le clerc, captain françois, legane (hispaniola), , , legrand, pierre (buccaneer), _n._ "le pain," _see_ paine, peter le pers (jesuit writer), and _n._ lerma, duque de, _n._ leroy-beaulieu, pierre-paul, , le sage, captain (buccaneer), lessone, " ( " ), levasseur, mons., - , , - , ley, james, earl of marlborough, , lilburne, robert (governor of bahamas), - lima (peru), , , linhares, conde de, logwood, , - , , , long, edward, , " samuel, lonvilliers, mons. de, lorin, henri, louis xiv., king of france, _n._, , , , , _n._ ludbury, captain (buccaneer), ludwell, philip (governor of carolina), lynch, sir thomas (governor of jamaica), , , , , - , , , , - , , and _n._, etc. lyttleton, sir charles (lieutenant-governor of jamaica), , , , , , , madeira, maggott, captain (buccaneer), maintenon, marquis de, maldonado de aldana, mansfield, captain edward (buccaneer), , , and _n._, - , , , _n._, , "mansvelt," _see_ mansfield maracaibo (venezuela), , , , - , , , , , marcel, gabriel, margarita island, , , , , " patache, , , and _n._ margot, port (hispaniola), , , , , marie-anne of austria, queen regent of spain, , , _n._, , , , markham, william (governor of pennsylvania), marlborough, earl of, _see_ ley, james "marston moor," , , and _n._, marteen, captain david (buccaneer), martin, - , _n._ martinique, , , , , , , _n._, , "mary of guildford," _n._ mary, queen of england, massachusetts, , _matelotage_, medina coeli, duque de, " de los torres, duque de, merida (yucatan), , mesnil, captain (buccaneer), mexico, _see_ new spain michel, captain (buccaneer), " le basque (buccaneer), , milton, john (latin secretary of state), _n._ mitchell, captain (buccaneer), _n._ modyford, colonel charles, " sir james, , , _n._, _n._ " sir thomas (governor of jamaica), - , , , - , _n._, and _n._, , , _n._, , etc. moledi, don patricio, molesworth, hender (lieutenant-governor of jamaica), _n._, , , - , , molina, conde de, , _n._ mompos (new granada), mona, island of, , monck, christopher, second duke of albemarle (governor of jamaica), - " george, first duke of albemarle, , , , _n._, , montagu, edward, earl of sandwich, , , montemayor, don juan francisco de, montespan, marquise de, _n._ montserrat, , moralis, don pedro de, moreton, joseph (governor of carolina), morgan, captain (buccaneer), " colonel blodre (buccaneer), _n._, _n._ " colonel edward, , , , , , _n._, " sir henry (buccaneer and lieutenant-governor of jamaica), , and _n._, - , - , , - , , , , , etc. " lieutenant-colonel thomas, _n._, _n._ morris, captain john (buccaneer), , , , _n._, mosquito coast, , , , , munden, captain robert, myngs, captain christopher, r.n., and _n._, and _n._, , , , and _n._, , nata de los santos (darien), _n._, _n._ nau, jean-david (buccaneer), and _n._, , navigation laws, , _n._, , , "navio del oro," negro slave-trade, - ; _cf. also_ clandestine trade negroes, assiento of, _see_ assiento netherlands, truce of , " wars of, _see_ war nevill, vice-admiral john, , nevis, , , , , new england, , , , , , , newfoundland, , new granada, , , , new providence island (bahamas), - new spain, , , , , , , , , , , etc. new york, , , nicaragua, , , , " lake, , nimuegen, peace of, nombre de dios (darien), _n._, _n._, norris, commodore sir john, o'brien, william, earl of inchiquin (governor of jamaica), , ogeron, bertrand d' (governor of french hispaniola), , - , , , , olivares, conde de, _n._ olonnais (buccaneer), _see_ nau, jean-david orinoco river, , _n._, , _n._, oxenham, john, "oxford," pain, captain thomas (buccaneer), and _n._, , paine, peter, - and _n._, _n._ panama, city of, , , and _n._, , , , , _n._, , , etc. " isthmus of, _see_ darien " president of, _see_ perez de guzman payta (peru), , penalva, conde de, penn, admiral william, and _n._, , , , " william (proprietor of penns.), pennsylvania, perez de guzman, don juan (president of panama), , , _n._, _n._, , and _n._, _n._ " diego, pernambuco, perry, mr. _n._ peru, , , , , , , , , , , etc. petit, captain (buccaneer), petit-goave (hispaniola), , , , , , , , , and _n._, , etc. philip ii., king of spain, , , , , , , , , philip iii., king of spain, " iv., king of spain, _n._, , philippine islands, , "piece of eight," value of, _n._ "pie de palo," _see_ heyn, admiral piet _and_ le clerc, françois pirates, depredations in the east, , " laws against, _see_ laws " trials of, , , - , , , , pizarro, francisco, , place, sieur de la (deputy-governor of tortuga), , plenneville, clement de, poincy, mons. de (governor of the french west indies), , , , pointis, sieur de, _see_ desjeans pontchartrain, louis phelypeaux, comte de, port de paix (hispaniola), , _n._, porto bello, , , , , and _n._, , , , , - , etc. porto rico, , and _n._, , _n._, , , , , , , etc. port royal (carolina), , " (jamaica), , and _n._, , , and _n._, , , , , , etc. pouançay, mons. de (governor of french hispaniola), , , , , , , , , , , etc. prince, captain lawrence (buccaneer), , _n._ privateers, laws against, _see_ laws providence company, , and _n._, , _n._, , _n._ providence island, and _n._, _n._, , , , - , - , , and _n._, etc. puerta de plata (hispaniola), puerto cabello (venezuela), " principe (cuba), , and _n._, , queen regent of spain, _see_ marie-anne of austria quito, province of, _see_ equador raleigh, sir walter, , , , , rancherias (new granada), , rausset, sieur de, _see_ deschamps raynal, guillaume, thomas-françois, red sea, pirates in, _see_ pirates rhode island, , , rich, henry, earl of holland, " robert, earl of warwick, and _n._, rio garta, rio de la hacha (new granada), , , , , _n._, , , rio nuevo (jamaica), riskinner, captain nicholas (governor of tortuga), rivero pardal, manuel, , roanoke island (carolina), roatan island, , robertson, william, rogers, captain thomas (buccaneer), _n._ ronquillo, don pedro, _n._, row, captain (buccaneer), roxas de valle-figueroa, don gabriel, - ruyter, admiral michel-adriaanszoon van, ryswick, treaty of, _n._ saba, , and _n._ st. augustine (florida), , , st. christopher, _see_ st. kitts st. eustatius, , , , and _n._, , st. jago de cuba, , , , , , - , _n._, , , , etc. " de la vega (jamaica), , , , , _n._ " de los cavalleros (hispaniola), - , st. kitts, , , , , , , , , , , etc. st. laurent, mons. de, , _n._ st. malo, corsairs of, st. martins, st. thomas, - salisbury, earl of, _see_ cecil, robert samana, _n._ samballas islands, _n._ "samson," _n._ sancti spiritus (cuba), , and _n._ san domingo, city of, _n._, , , , , , , , , , , etc. " french, _see_ hispaniola sandwich, earl of, _see_ montagu, edward san juan de porto rico, , , , " d'ulloa, _see_ vera cruz " river (nicaragua), , , , san lorenzo, castle of (chagre), - , _n._, , and _n._ san lucar, , , , santa catalina, _see_ providence island santa cruz, , , , santa marta (new granada), , , , , , , - , , santa marta de la vitoria (tabasco), _n._ " tomas (orinoco), , sasi arnoldo, don christopher, , "satisfaction," _n._ sawkins, captain (buccaneer), , scaliger, joseph-juste, scelle, georges, , searle, daniel (governor of barbadoes), _n._ searles, captain robert (buccaneer), , sedgwick, major-general robert, , seignelay, marquis de, _see_ colbert seville, , , , , , , , _n._, , etc. sharp, captain bartholomew (buccaneer), , , _n._, , , shirley, sir anthony, "sloop-trade," smart, captain (buccaneer), smith, major samuel, , , sore, jacques, , southey, thomas, spain, colonial laws, , , , , " colonial system, _ff._ " commercial system, - " cruelties to english mariners, , - , , _n._, " cruelties to indians, , , , , , _n._ " decline of, _ff._, " discovery and exploration in south america, - " exclusion of foreigners from spanish indies, " privateers of, , and _n._ " trade relations with england, - " treaty of with england, " " with england, - , , " truce of with the netherlands, _see_ netherlands " venality of spanish colonial governors, _n._ " weakness of spanish ships, spragge, captain, r.n., stanley, captain (buccaneer), stapleton, sir william (governor of leeward islands), , , stedman, captain (buccaneer), and _n._ style, john, _n._ tabasco river, , _n._ tavoga island, , tavogilla island, , taylor, john, terrier, jean, thibault, - , _n._ thomas, dalby, thornbury, walter, thurloe, john (secretary of state), thurston, captain (buccaneer), tobago, , , , , toledo, don federico de, , tolu (new granada), , tortola, tortuga, , , - , , , , , , , , etc. trade, clandestine, _see_ clandestine trade treasure fleets, - , , ; _cf. also_ flota _and_ galleons treval, mons. de, trinidad, , , _n._, , , "trompense, la," - , _n._, , , _n._ " la nouvelle," _n_. truxillo (honduras), , , , , , turrialva (costa rica), utrecht, treaty of, vache, isle la, _see_ isle la vache _vaisseaux de registre_, , and _n._ vaissière, pierre de, valladolid (yucatan), valle-figueroa, don gabriel roxas de, _see_ roxas de valle-figueroa van horn, captain nicholas (buccaneer), - , vaughan, john, lord (governor of jamaica), , , - , venables, general robert, and _n._, , , , , , venezuela, , , venta cruz (darien), _n._, , _n._, and _n._, _n._, _n._, vera cruz (new spain), , _n._, , , , , , , , , etc., veragua, and _n._ vernon, admiral edward, verpre, captain (buccaneer), vervins, treaty of, _viande boucannée_, vigneron, captain (buccaneer), villa de mosa (tabasco), and _n._ villalba y toledo, don francisco de, villars, marquis de, _n._ virgin islands, , , virginia, , , , , , , , war between england and france, - , , war between england and netherlands, - , - war between france and netherlands, - , _ff._ war of the spanish succession, - " succession of the palatinate, _ff._ watson, sir francis, watts, elias (governor of tortuga), , and _n._, watts, colonel william (governor of st. kitts), _n._ weiss, charles, west indies, _see_ indies, west whitstone, sir thomas (buccaneer), , wilgress, captain, william iii., king of england, , williams, captain john, _alias_ yankey (buccaneer), , _n._, " captain morris (buccaneer), and _n._ williamson, sir joseph (secretary of state), _n._, willoughby, william, lord (governor of barbadoes), wilmot, commodore robert, windebank, sir francis (secretary of state), windsor, thomas, lord (governor of jamaica), , and _n._, , , - , , , , winslow, edward (commissioner of jamaica), _n._ winter, sir william, witherborn, captain francis (buccaneer), wormeley, captain christopher (governor of tortuga), , and _n._ yallahs, captain (buccaneer) , "yankey," _see_ williams, captain john yucatan, , , _n._, , , zuniga, don pedro de, transcriber's note. many of the names in this book (even outside quoted passages) are inconsistently spelt. i have chosen to retain the original spelling treating these as author error rather than typographical carelessness. the pirates' who's who _giving particulars of the lives & deaths of the pirates & buccaneers_ by philip gosse illustrated burt franklin: research & source works series essays in history, economics & social science burt franklin new york published by burt franklin east th st., new york originally published: printed in the u.s.a. library of congress catalog card no.: - burt franklin: research & source works series essays in history, economics & social science i dedicate this book to my fellow-members of the fountain club with the earnest hope that nothing it contains may incite them to emulate its heroes list of illustrations to face page a page from the log-book of captain dampier pressing a pirate to plead a pirate being hanged at execution dock, wapping anne bonny and mary read, convicted of piracy november th, , in jamaica captain bartholomew roberts preface let it be made clear at the very outset of this preface that the pages which follow do not pretend to be a history of piracy, but are simply an attempt to gather together, from various sources, particulars of those redoubtable pirates and buccaneers whose names have been handed down to us in a desultory way. i do not deal here with the children of fancy; i believe that every man, or woman too--since certain of the gentler sex cut no small figure at the game--mentioned in this volume actually existed. a time has come when every form of learning, however preposterous it may seem, is made as unlaborious as possible for the would-be student. knowledge, which is after all but a string of facts, is being arranged, sorted, distilled, and set down in compact form, ready for rapid assimilation. there is little fear that the student who may wish in the future to become master of any subject will have to delve into the original sources in his search after facts and dates. surely pirates, taking them in their broadest sense, are as much entitled to a biographical dictionary of their own as are clergymen, race-horses, or artists in ferro-concrete, who all, i am assured, have their own "who's who"? have not the medical men their directory, the lawyers their list, the peers their peerage? there are books which record the names and the particulars of musicians, schoolmasters, stockbrokers, saints and bookmakers, and i dare say there is an average adjuster's almanac. a peer, a horse, dog, cat, and even a white mouse, if of blood sufficiently blue, has his pedigree recorded somewhere. above all, there is that astounding and entertaining volume, "who's who," found in every club smoking-room, and which grows more bulky year by year, stuffed with information about the careers, the hobbies, and the marriages of all the most distinguished persons in every profession, including very full details about the lives and doings of all our journalists. but on the club table where these books of ready reference stand with "whitaker," "abc," and "ruff's guide to the turf," there is just one gap that the compiler of this work has for a long while felt sorely needed filling. there has been until now no work that gives immediate and trustworthy information about the lives, and--so sadly important in their cases--the deaths of our pirates and buccaneers. in delving in the volumes of the "dictionary of national biography," it has been a sad disappointment to the writer to find so little space devoted to the careers of these picturesque if, i must admit, often unseemly persons. there are, of course, to be found a few pirates with household names such as kidd, teach, and avery. a few, too, of the buccaneers, headed by the great sir henry morgan, come in for their share. but i compare with indignation the meagre show of pirates in that monumental work with the rich profusion of divines! even during the years when piracy was at its height--say from until --the pirates are utterly swamped by the theologians. can it be that these two professions flourished most vigorously side by side, and that when one began to languish, the other also began to fade? even so there can be no excuse for the past and present neglect of these sea-adventurers. but a change is beginning to show itself. increasing evidence is to be found that the more intelligent portions of the population of this country, and even more so the enlightened of the great united states of america, are beginning to show a proper interest in the lives of the pirates and buccaneers. that this should be so amongst the americans is quite natural, when it is remembered what a close intimacy existed between their puritan forefathers of new england and the pirates, both by blood relation and by trade, since the pirates had no more obliging and ready customers for their spoils of gold dust, stolen slaves, or church ornaments, than the early settlers of new york, massachusetts, and carolina. in beginning to compile such a list as is to be found in this volume, a difficulty is met at once. my original intention was that only pirates and buccaneers should be included. to admit privateers, corsairs, and other sea-rovers would have meant the addition of a vast number of names, and would have made the work unwieldy, and the very object of this volume as a book of ready reference would not have been achieved. but the difficulty has been to define the exact meaning of a pirate and of a buccaneer. in the dictionary a pirate is defined as "a sea-robber, marauder, one who infringes another's copyright"; while a buccaneer is described as "a sea-robber, a pirate, especially of the spanish-american coasts." this seems explicit, but a pirate was not a pirate from the cradle to the gallows. he usually began his life at sea as an honest mariner in the merchant service. he perhaps mutinied with other of the ship's crew, killed or otherwise disposed of the captain, seized the ship, elected a new commander, and sailed off "on the account." many an honest seaman was captured with the rest of his ship's crew by a pirate, and either voluntarily joined the freebooters by signing their articles, or, being a good navigator or "sea-artist," was compelled by the pirates to lend them his services. others, again, were in privateer ships, which carried on a legitimate warfare against the shipping of hostile countries, under a commission or letter of marque. often the very commission or letter of marque carried about so jealously by some shady privateer was not worth the paper it was written on, nor the handful of dubloons paid for it. one buccaneer sailed about the south seas, plundering spanish ships and sacking churches and burning towns, under a commission issued to him, for a consideration, by the governor of a danish west india island, himself an ex-pirate. this precious document, adorned with florid scrolls and a big, impressive seal, was written in danish. someone with a knowledge of that language had an opportunity and the curiosity to translate it, when he found that all it entitled the bearer to do was to hunt for goats and pigs on the island of hispaniola, and nothing more. when, at the conclusion of hostilities, peace was declared, the crew of a privateer found it exceedingly irksome to give up the roving life, and were liable to drift into piracy. often it happened that, after a long naval war, crews were disbanded, ships laid up, and navies reduced, thus flooding the countryside with idle mariners, and filling the roads with begging and starving seamen. these were driven to go to sea if they could find a berth, often half starved and brutally treated, and always underpaid, and so easily yielded to the temptation of joining some vessel bound vaguely for the "south sea," where no questions were asked and no wages paid, but every hand on board had a share in the adventure. the buccaneers were a great source of piracy also. when a war was on hand the english government was only too glad to have the help of these daring and skilful seamen; but when peace was declared these allies began to lead to international complications, and means had to be taken to abolish them, and to try and turn them into honest settlers in the islands. but when a man has for years lived the free life, sailed out from jamaica a pauper, to return in six weeks or less with, perhaps, a bag of gold worth two, three, or four thousand pounds, which he has prided himself on spending in the taverns and gambling-hells of port royal in a week, how can he settle down to humdrum uneventful toil, with its small profits? thus he goes back "on the account" and sails to some prearranged rendezvous of the "brethren of the coast." to write a whole history of piracy would be a great undertaking, but a very interesting one. piracy must have begun in the far, dim ages, and perhaps when some naked savage, paddling himself across a tropical river, met with another adventurer on a better tree-trunk, or carrying a bigger bunch of bananas, the first act of piracy was committed. indeed, piracy must surely be the third oldest profession in the world, if we give the honour of the second place to the ancient craft of healing. if such a history were to include the whole of piracy, it would have to refer to the phoenicians, to the mediterranean sea-rovers of the days of rome, who, had they but known it, held the future destiny of the world in their grasp when they, a handful of pirates, took prisoner the young julius cæsar, to ransom him and afterwards to be caught and crucified by him. the arabs in the red sea were for many years past-masters of the art of piracy, as were the barbary corsairs of algiers and tunis, who made the mediterranean a place of danger for many generations of seamen. all this while the chinese and malays were active pirates, while the pirate coast of the persian gulf was feared by all mariners. then arose the great period, beginning in the reign of henry viii., advancing with rapid strides during the adventurous years of queen elizabeth, when many west of england squires were wont to sell their estates and invest all in a ship in which to go cruising on the spanish main, in the hope of taking a rich spanish galleon homeward bound from cartagena and porto bello, deep laden with the riches of peru and mexico. out of these semi-pirate adventurers developed the buccaneers, a ruffianly, dare-devil lot, who feared neither god, man, nor death. by the middle of the eighteenth century piracy was on the wane, and practically had died out by the beginning of the nineteenth, the final thrust that destroyed it being given by the american and english navies in the north atlantic and west indian seas. but by this time piracy had degenerated to mere sea-robbing, the days of gallant and ruthless sea-battles had passed, and the pirate of those decadent days was generally a spanish-american half-breed, with no courage, a mere robber and murderer. the advent of the telegraph and of steam-driven ships settled for ever the account of the pirates, except in china, when even to this day accounts reach us, through the press, of piratical enterprises; but never again will the black, rakish-looking craft of the pirate, with the jolly roger flying, be liable to pounce down upon the unsuspecting and harmless merchantman. the books devoted to the lives and exploits of buccaneers and pirates are few. indeed, but two stand out prominently, both masterpieces of their kind. one, "the bucaniers of america, or a true account of the most remarkable assaults committed of late years upon the coasts of the west indies," etc., was written by a sea-surgeon to the buccaneers, a.o. exquemelin, a dutchman, and was published at amsterdam in . many translations were made, the first one in english being published in by william crooke, at the green dragon, without temple bar, in london. the publication of this book was the cause of a libel action brought by sir henry morgan against the publisher; the buccaneer commander won his case and was granted £ damages and a public apology. in this book morgan was held up as a perfect monster for his cruel treatment to his prisoners, but although morgan resented this very much, the statement that annoyed him much more was that which told the reader that morgan came of very humble stock and was sold by his parents when a boy, to serve as a labourer in barbadoes. the greatest work on pirates was written in by captain charles johnson. the original edition, now exceedingly rare, is called "a general history of the pyrates, from their first rise and settlement in the island of providence, to the present time," and is illustrated by interesting engravings. another edition, in , is a handsome folio called "a general history of the lives and adventures of the most famous highwaymen," etc., "to which is added a genuine account of the voyages and plunders of the most notorious pyrates," and contains many full-page copperplates by j. basire and others. the pirates are given only a share in the pages of this book, but it has some very fine engravings of such famous pirates as avery, roberts, low, lowther, and "blackbeard." the third edition of the "history of pirates," of , has a quaint frontispiece, showing the two women pirates, anne bonny and mary read, in action with their swords drawn, upon the deck of a ship. while the fourth edition, published in , in two volumes, contains the stories of the less well-known south-sea rovers. after studying the subject of piracy at all closely, one cannot but be struck by the number of pirates who came from wales. welshmen figure not only amongst the rank and file, but amongst the leaders. morgan, of course, stands head and shoulders above the rest. it is curious how certain races show particular adaptability for certain callings. up to two hundred years ago the chief pirates were welshmen; to-day most of our haberdashers hail from the same land of the leek. it would be interesting to try and fathom the reason why these two callings, at first sight so dissimilar, should call forth the qualities in a particular race. perhaps some of our leading haberdashers and linen drapers will be willing to supply the answer. i sometimes wonder what happens to the modern pirates; i mean the men who, had they lived years ago, would have been pirates. what do they find to exercise their undoubted, if unsocial, talents and energies to-day? many, i think, find openings of an adventurous financial kind in the city. politics, again, surely has its buccaneers. one can imagine, for example, some leading modern politician--let us say a welshman--who, like morgan, being a brilliant public speaker, is able by his eloquence to sway vast crowds of listeners, whether buccaneers or electors, a man of quick and subtle mind, able to recognize and seize upon the main chance, perfectly ruthless in his methods when necessity requires, and one who, having achieved the goal on which he had set his ambition, discards his party or followers, as morgan did his buccaneers after the sacking of panama. nor is europe to-day without a counterpart to the ruffian crews who arrogantly "defied the world and declared war on all nations." one great difficulty which the author of this work is met with is to decide who was, and who was not, a pirate. certain friends who have taken a kindly, if somewhat frivolous, interest in the compilation of this work have inquired if sir francis drake was to be included; and it must be admitted that the question is not an easy one to answer. the most fervent patriot must admit that the early voyages of drake were, to put it mildly, of a buccaneering kind, although his late voyages were more nearly akin to privateering cruises than piracy. but if, during the reign of king philip, a spaniard had been asked if drake was a pirate, he would certainly have answered, "yes," and that without any hesitation whatever. so much depends upon the point of view. in the edition of johnson's "history of highwaymen and pirates," the famous paul jones holds a prominent place as a pirate, and is described in no half measures as a traitor; yet i doubt if in the schools of america to-day the rising young citizens of "god's own country" are told any such thing, but are probably, and quite naturally, taught to look upon paul jones as a true patriot and a brave sailor. again, there is christopher columbus, the greatest of all explorers, about whom no breath of scandal in the piratical way was ever breathed, who only escaped being a pirate by the fact that his was the first ship to sail in the caribbean sea; for there is little doubt that had the great navigator found an english ship lying at anchor when he first arrived at the island of san salvador, an act of piracy would have immediately taken place. for the student who is interested there are other writers who have dealt with the subject of piracy, such as the buccaneers ringrose, cooke, funnell, dampier, and cowley; woodes rogers, with his "voyage to the south seas"; wafer, who wrote an amusing little book in describing his hardships and adventures on the isthmus of darien. of modern writers may be recommended mr. john masefield's "spanish main," "the buccaneers in the west indies," by c.h. haring, and the latest publication of the marine research society of massachusetts, entitled "the pirates of the new england coast," and last, but far from least, the works of mr. a. hyatt verrill. the conditions of life on a pirate ship appear to have been much the same in all vessels. on procuring a craft by stealing or by mutiny of the crew, the first thing to do was to elect a commander. this was done by vote amongst the crew, who elected whoever they considered the most daring amongst them, and the best navigator. the next officer chosen was the quartermaster. the captain and quartermaster once elected, the former could appoint any junior officers he chose, and the shares in any plunder they took was divided according to the rank of each pirate. the crew were then searched for a pirate who could write, and, when found, this scholar would be taken down to the great cabin, given pen, ink, and paper, and after the articles had been discussed and decided upon, they were written down, to be signed by each member of the crew. as an example, the articles drawn up by the crew of captain john phillips on board the _revenge_ are given below in full: . every man shall obey civil command; the captain shall have one full share and a half in all prizes; the master, carpenter, boatswain and gunner shall have one share and quarter. . if any man shall offer to run away, or keep any secret from the company, he shall be marroon'd with one bottle of powder, one bottle of water, one small arm, and shot. . if any man shall steal any thing in the company, or game, to the value of a piece of eight, he shall be marroon'd or shot. . if at any time we should meet another marrooner (that is, pyrate,) that man that shall sign his articles without the consent of our company, shall suffer such punishment as the captain and company shall think fit. . that man that shall strike another whilst these articles are in force, shall receive moses's law (that is stripes lacking one) on the bare back. . that man that shall snap his arms, or smoak tobacco in the hold, without a cap to his pipe, or carry a candle lighted without a lanthorn, shall suffer the same punishment as in the former article. . that man that shall not keep his arms clean, fit for an engagement, or neglect his business, shall be cut off from his share, and suffer such other punishment as the captain and the company shall think fit. . if any man shall lose a joint in time of an engagement, shall have pieces of eight; if a limb, . . if at any time you meet with a prudent woman, that man that offers to meddle with her, without her consent, shall suffer present death. these formalities took time and much argument and the drinking of many bowls of punch, and, when once settled, the next business was to make a flag. the jolly roger, consisting of a human skull and two crossed thigh-bones, was generally portrayed in black and white. some crews preferred a study in red and white. more enterprising captains with imagination and taste, such as captain bartholomew roberts, who was a truly remarkable man and the greatest pirate who ever "declared war upon all the world," aimed at something more elaborate. roberts flew several flags, all made to his own design. on one was depicted a "human anatomy," holding a rummer, or glass, of punch in one bony hand, and a flaming sword in the other. another favourite flag of roberts had a huge portrait of himself, sword in hand, and two skulls. another had a "skellington" standing with either foot firmly placed on a skull, and under one skull were embroidered the letters a.b.h., under the other a.m.h., which letters stood for a barbadian's head and a martinican's head, to warn any inhabitant of either of these islands what to expect if he was so unfortunate as to be taken prisoner by bartholomew, who never forgot nor forgave two occasions on which he was very roughly handled by ships from barbadoes and martinique. the weak point in all pirate ships was the lack of discipline. time and again some successful enterprise, almost completed, was thrown away by lack of discipline. no captain could be certain of his command or crew. if he did anything they disapproved of, the crew would throw him in chains into the hold, or as likely overboard, and elect another. it is on record that one ship had elected thirteen different commanders in a few months. some of the big men retained their commands, roberts holding the record, for a pirate, of four years, until his death; while bartholomew sharp holds the record for a buccaneer. having procured a vessel, perhaps little more than a fishing-boat, sometimes only an open row-boat, the embryo pirates would paddle along some coast until they came across an unsuspecting craft, one not too big for the desperadoes to attack. hiding their arms, they would row alongside, and then suddenly, with shouts and curses, board the vessel, kill any who resisted, and start a cruise in their new ship, their number being increased by volunteers or forced men from amongst the prize's crew. cruising thus, the pirates would gradually get together a small fleet of the fastest and best sailing vessels among their prizes and increase their crew as they went along. both the buccaneers and the pirates had their favourite haunts and places of rendezvous. these had to be within easy sailing distance of one or more regular trade routes, and at the same time had to be in some quiet spot unlikely to be visited by strange craft, and, besides being sheltered from storms, must have a suitable beach on which their vessels could be careened and the hulls scraped of barnacles and weeds. the greatest stronghold of the buccaneers was at tortuga, or turtle island, a small island lying off the west coast of hispaniola. here in their most piping days flourished a buccaneer republic, where the seamen made their own laws and cultivated the land for sugar-cane and yams. occasionally the spaniards or the french, without any warning, would swoop down on the settlement and break up the small republic, but sooner or later the buccaneers would be back once again in possession. the favourite and most flourishing headquarters of the west india pirates was at new providence island in the bahama islands, occupied to-day by the flourishing town of nassau, now the headquarters of those worthy descendants of the pirates, the bootleggers, who from the old port carry on their exciting and profitable smuggling of whisky into the united states. the numerous bays and islands lying off the coast of south carolina were very popular with the free booters in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries; while port royal, in jamaica, was noted from early days as the port from which the most famous buccaneers sailed for the spanish main, and to which they returned with their plunder. the french filibusters and pirates mostly used the virgin islands, while the dutch patronized their own islands of curaçao, saba, and st. eustatius. but the buccaneers did not allow the chance of nationality to divide them, for frenchmen, englishmen, and dutchmen, all "brethren of the coast," sailed together and plundered the spaniard in open and equal friendship. an entirely different group of pirates arose in the south seas, with their headquarters in madagascar. here the pirates went farther towards forming a permanent society than at any other time during their history, with the exception of the barbary corsairs, who had their strongly fortified settlements for many years at algiers, tunis, and sallee. the origin of the buccaneers is interesting, and i cannot do better than quote the opening chapter of clark russell's "life of william dampier," in the english men of action series, published by messrs. macmillan in . he writes: "in or about the middle of the seventeenth century, the island of san domingo, or hispaniola as it was then called, was haunted and overrun by a singular community of savage, surly, fierce, and filthy men. they were chiefly composed of french colonists, whose ranks had from time to time been enlarged by liberal contributions from the slums and alleys of more than one european city and town. these people went dressed in shirts and pantaloons of coarse linen cloth, which they steeped in the blood of the animals they slaughtered. they wore round caps, boots of hogskin drawn over their naked feet, and belts of raw hide, in which they stuck their sabres and knives. they also armed themselves with firelocks, which threw a couple of balls, each weighing two ounces. the places where they dried and salted their meat were called _boucans_, and from this term they came to be styled bucaniers, or buccaneers, as we spell it. they were hunters by trade, and savages in their habits. they chased and slaughtered horned cattle and trafficked with the flesh, and their favourite food was raw marrow from the bones of the beasts which they shot. they ate and slept on the ground, their table was a stone, their bolster the trunk of a tree, and their roof the hot and sparkling heavens of the antilles." the spaniards, who were jealous of any other nation than their own having a foothold in america, determined to get rid of these wild but hitherto harmless buccaneers. this they accomplished, and in time drove the cattle-hunters out of hispaniola; and to make sure that the unwelcome visitors should not return, they exterminated all the wild cattle. this was the worst mistake the spaniards could have made, for these wild men had to look for other means of supporting themselves, and they joined the freebooters and thus began the great period of piracy which was the cause of the ultimate breaking-up of the spanish power in the west indies. of the life on board buccaneer and pirate ships a somewhat hazy and incomplete picture reaches us. the crews were usually large compared with the number of men carried in other ships, and a state of crowded discomfort must have been the result, especially in some crazy old vessel cruising in the tropics or rounding the horn in winter. of the relationship between the sea-rovers and the fair sex it would be best, perhaps, to draw a discreet veil. the pirates and the buccaneers looked upon women simply as the spoils of war, and were as profligate with these as with the rest of their plunder. i do not know if i am disclosing a secret when i mention that my friend mr. hyatt verrill, who is an authority on the subject of the lives of the pirates, is about to publish a book devoted to the love affairs of these gentry. i confess to looking forward with pleasure and a certain degree of trepidation to reading his book and to seeing how he will deal with so delicate a subject. we know that sir henry morgan was married and provided for his widow in his will. captain kidd, wife, and child, resided in new york, in the utmost conjugal happiness and respectability, but then kidd was a martyr and no pirate. captain rackam, the dashing "calico jack," ran away to sea with the woman pirate, mrs. anne bonny, and they lived together happily on board ship and on land, as did captain and mrs. cobham. the only other pirate i know of who took a "wife" to sea with him was captain pease, who flourished in a half-hearted way--half-hearted in the piratical, but not the matrimonial sense--in the middle of the nineteenth century. a certain settler in new zealand in the "early days" describes a visit he paid to captain pease and his family on board that pirate's handy little schooner, lying at anchor in a quiet cove at that island. on stepping aboard, the guest was warmly welcomed by a short, red-faced man, bald of head and rotund in figure, of about fifty-five years of age. his appearance suggested a successful grocer rather than a pirate. on the deck were seated two ladies, one nearing middle age, the other young and undoubtedly pretty. at the feet of these ladies sprawled several small children. captain pease proceeded to introduce his guest to these as mrs. pease no. and mrs. pease no. . the ladies continued their sewing while a conversation took place on various subjects. presently, taking out his watch, the pirate turned to the younger lady, observing that it was nearing teatime. mrs. pease no. , laying down her sewing, went to the cabin, from which the rattle of teacups and the hiss of a boiling kettle were soon heard. tea being announced as ready, the party entered the cabin, mrs. pease senior taking the place at the head of the table and pouring out the tea while the younger mrs. pease very prettily handed round the cups and bread and butter, the guest particularly noticing with what respect and thoughtfulness she looked after the wants of the elder mrs. pease. as a pirate captain pease was second or even third rate, confining his daring to seizing small unarmed native craft, or robbing the stores of lonely white traders on out-of-the-way atolls. but as a married man he showed himself to be a master; matrimony was his strong suit, domesticity his trump card. he gave one valuable hint to his guest, which was this: "never take more than two wives with you on a voyage, _and choose 'em with care_." one is apt to disassociate serious matrimony, and still less responsible paternity, with the calling of piracy, but with captain pease this was far from being the case. every one of his wives--for he had others on shore--contributed her mite, or two, to the growing family, and the captain really could not say which of his offspring he was most proud of. it seems at first strange that a man of captain pease's appearance, figure, and settled habits, almost humdrum, should have been such an undoubted success with the ladies; but that he was a success there can be no doubt. perhaps his calling had a good deal to do with this attraction he had for them. before bringing this preface to a conclusion, there is one other aspect of piracy upon which i will touch. death, portrayed by a skeleton, was the device on the flag beneath which they fought; and a skeleton was for ever threatening to emerge from its cupboard aboard every pirate vessel. the end of most of the pirates and a large proportion of the buccaneers was a sudden and violent one, and few of them died in their beds. many were killed in battle, numbers of them were drowned. not a few drank themselves to death with strong jamaica rum, while many of the buccaneers died of malaria and yellow fever contracted in the jungles of central america, and most of the pirates who survived these perils lived only to be hanged. it is recorded of a certain ex-prizefighter and pirate, dennis mccarthy, who was about to be hanged at new providence island in , that, as he stood on the gallows, all bedecked with coloured ribbons, as became a boxer, he told his admiring audience that his friends had often, in joke, told him he would die in his shoes; and so, to prove them liars, he kicked off his shoes amongst the crowd, and so died without them. the trial of a pirate was usually a rough and ready business, and the culprit seldom received the benefit of any doubt that might exist. if he made any defence at all, it was usually to plead that he had been forced to join the pirates against his wish, and that he had long been waiting for an opportunity to escape. once condemned to death, and the date of execution decided, the prisoner, if at newgate, was handed over to the good offices of the prison ordinary; or, if in new england, to such vigorous apostles of christianity as the rev. cotton or the rev. increase mather. the former of these two famous theologians was pastor of the north church in boston, and the author of a very rare work published in , called "an history of some criminals executed in this land." cotton mather preached many a "hanging" sermon to condemned pirates, a few of which can still be read. one of these, preached in , is called "a brief discourse occasioned by a tragical spectacle of a number of miserables under sentence of death for piracy." the reverend doctor made a speciality of these "hanging" sermons, and was a thorough master of his subject, as is shown by the following passage taken from the above "brief discourse": "the privateering stroke so easily degenerates into the piratical; and the privateering trade is usually carried on with an unchristian temper, and proves an inlet unto so much debauchery and iniquity." on the sunday previous to an execution the condemned pirates were taken to church to listen to a sermon while they were "exhibited" to the crowded and gaping congregation. on the day of the execution a procession was formed, which marched from the gaol to the gallows. at the head was carried a silver oar, the emblem from very early days of a pirate execution. arrived at the gibbet, the prisoner, who always dressed himself in his, or someone else's, best clothes, would doff his hat and make a speech. sometimes the bolder spirits would speak in a defiant and unrepentant way; but most of them professed a deep repentance for their sins and warned their listeners to guard against the temptation of drink and avarice. after the prisoner's death the bodies of the more notorious pirates were taken down and hanged in chains at some prominent spot where ships passed, in order to be a warning to any mariners who had piratical leanings. the number of pirates or buccaneers who died in their beds must have been very small, particularly amongst the former; and i have been able to trace but a single example of a tombstone marking the burial-place of a pirate. this is, or was until recently, to be found in the graveyard at dartmouth, and records the resting-place of the late captain thomas goldsmith, who commanded the _snap dragon_, of dartmouth, in which vessel he amassed much riches during the reign of queen anne, and died, apparently not regretted, in . engraved upon his headstone are the following lines: men that are virtuous serve the lord; and the devil's by his friends ador'd; and as they merit get a place amidst the bless'd or hellish race; pray then ye learned clergy show where can this brute, tom goldsmith, go? whose life was one continual evil striving to cheat god, man and devil. the pirates' who's who aisa. barbary corsair. a famous mediterranean pirate, and one of dragut's admirals in the sixteenth century. alcantra, captain mansel. a spaniard. commanded a pirate brig, the _macrinarian_. committed many outrages. took the liverpool packet _topaz_, from calcutta to boston, in , near st. helena, murdering the whole crew. in the same year he took the _candace_, from marblehead, and plundered her. the supercargo of the _candace_ was an amateur actor, and had on board a priest's black gown and broad brimmed hat. these he put on and sat in his cabin pretending to tell his beads. on the pirates coming to rob him, they all crossed themselves and left him, so that he alone of the whole company was not robbed. alexander, john. a scotch buccaneer; one of captain sharp's crew. drowned on may th, . captain sharp, with a party of twenty-four men, had landed on the island of chiva, off the coast of peru, and taken several prisoners, amongst whom was a shipwright and his man, who were actually at work building two great ships for the spaniards. sharp, thinking these men would be very useful to him, took them away, with all their tools and a quantity of ironwork, in a dory, to convey them off to his ship. but the dory, being overladen, sank, and alexander was drowned. on the evening of may th his body was found; which they took up, and next day "threw him overboard, giving him three french vollies for his customary ceremony." ali basha. of algiers. barbary corsair. conquered the kingdom of tunis in the sixteenth century, and captured many maltese galleys. he brought the development of organized piracy to its greatest perfection. in ali basha commanded a fleet of no fewer than moslem galleys in the battle of lepanto, when he was severely defeated, but escaped with his life. alleston, captain. commanded a vessel of eighteen tons, no guns, and a crew of twenty-four. in march, , sailed in company with eight other vessels, under command of captain harris, to the coast of darien, and marched on foot across the isthmus, on his way attacking and sacking santa maria. amand or annand, alexander. of jamaica. one of major stede bonnet's crew in the _royal james_. hanged on november th, , at white point, charleston, south carolina, and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. ameer, ibrahim. an admiral of an arabian fleet of red sea pirates. in he captured four british merchant vessels on their way to surat. andreson, captain cornelius. a dutch pirate. sailed from boston in with captain roderigo to plunder english ships along the coast of maine, in a vessel called the _penobscot shallop_. tried at cambridge, massachusetts, sentenced to death, but later on pardoned. afterwards fought very bravely for the english colonists against the indians. androeas, captain. a chief or captain of the darien indians, who in conducted the buccaneers under coxon and harris across the isthmus to attack santa maria and afterwards to make an attempt on panama. captain androeas had a great esteem for the english, partly because the buccaneers were kind to the indians, and partly because of the indians' fear and hatred of the spaniards. he afterwards led back a party of malcontents under captain coxon from the pacific side of the isthmus. angora, sultan of timor. refusing to allow the east india company to station garrisons on timor, he was driven out of the whole of his island except the chief town, also called angora. deciding to take revenge, he turned pirate and went to sea in command of a small fleet of five well-armed prows and several galleys. his first prize was a packet brig carrying despatches from calcutta to the english general before angora. captain hastings, the commander, a near relation of warren hastings, and a gallant officer, had thrown the despatches overboard, for which he was hanged, while the crew were sent to prison at angora and afterwards poisoned. his next prize was an east indian ship, the _edward_, captain harford, the crew of which were also poisoned. cruising off bombay he defeated a vessel sent out by the government to attack him. after taking other english vessels, angora met with a richly laden ship from burmah, a country whose sovereign he was on friendly terms with, but the sultan-pirate took this ship and drowned every soul on board except one woman, who, owing to her great beauty, he kept for himself. his next victim was a well-armed malay praam, which he captured after a severe fight. the crew he shackled and threw overboard, while he burnt the vessel. paying another visit to bombay, he caught the garrison unprepared, blew up the fort, and sailed off with some sheep, cows, and pigs. a few days later the pirate seized an english packet, _st. george_, and after he had tortured to death the captain, the terrified crew joined his service. returning to timor with his plunder, he was surprised by the arrival off the port of h.m.s. _victorious_, seventy-four guns, which had been sent to take him. slipping out of harbour unobserved in the night in his fastest sailing praam, he escaped to trincomalee in ceylon, where the east india company decided to allow him to remain undisturbed. angria. brother of a famous pirate, angora, sultan of timor. when the sultan retired from practice to the island of ceylon he gave his brother his praam, a fast vessel armed with thirty-eight guns. angria's brother angora had been dethroned from the island of timor by the english government, and this had prevented the former from all hope of succeeding as sultan. owing to this, angria, a very vindictive man, nursed against the english government a very real grievance. declaring himself sultan of another smaller island, little timor, he sailed out to look for spoil. his first victim was the _elphinston_, which he took some eighty miles off bombay. putting the crew of forty-seven men into an open boat, without water, and with scarcely room to move, he left them. it was in the hottest month of the year, and only twenty-eight of them reached bombay alive. angria, being broad-minded on the subject of his new profession, did not limit himself to taking only english vessels, for meeting with two chinese junks, laden with spices and riches, he plundered them both, and tying the crew back to back threw them into the sea to drown. one of the chinamen, while watching his companions being drowned, managed to get a hand free from his ropes, and, taking his dagger, stabbed angria, but, missing his heart, only wounded him in the shoulder. to punish him the pirate had the skin cut off his back and then had him beaten with canes. then lashing him firmly down to a raft he was thrown overboard. after drifting about for three days and nights he was picked up, still alive, by a fishing-boat and carried to bombay, where, fully recovered, he lived the rest of his days. angria continued his activities for three years, during which space he was said to have murdered in cold blood over englishmen. he was eventually chased by commander jones in h.m.s. _asia_, sixty-four guns, into timor, and after a close siege of the town for twelve months, angria was shot by one of the mob while haranguing them from a balcony. after commander jones's death his widow built a tower at shooter's hill, by woolwich common, to perpetuate the memory of her husband who had rid the indian ocean of the tyrant angria. the following lines are from the pen of robert bloomfield, and allude to this monument: yon far-famed monumental tower records the achievements of the brave, and angria's subjugated power, who plunder'd on the eastern wave. anstis, captain thomas. the first mention of the name of this notorious pirate occurs in the year , when we hear of him shipping himself at providence in a sloop called the _buck_ in company with five other rascals who were conspiring together to seize the vessel and with her go "a-pyrating." of these five, one was howel davis, who was afterwards killed in an affair at the island of princes; another, denman topping, who was killed in the taking of a rich portuguese ship on the coast of brazil; a third, walter kennedy, was eventually hanged at execution dock, while the two others, who escaped the usual end of pirates--that is, by hanging, shooting, or drowning in saltwater or rum--disappeared into respectable obscurity in employment of some sort in the city of london. this party of six conspirators was the nucleus of a very powerful combination of pirates, which eventually came under the command of the famous captain roberts. anstis's pirate career began as did most others. they cruised about amongst the west india islands, seizing and plundering all merchant ships they chanced upon, and, if we are to believe some of the stories that were circulated at the time of their treatment of their prisoners, they appear to have been an even rougher lot of scoundrels than was usual. before long they seized a very stout ship, the _morning star_, bound from guinea to carolina, and fitted her up with thirty-two cannons taken from another prize; manned her with a crew of one hundred men, and put captain john fenn in command. anstis, as the elder officer, could have had command of this newer and larger ship, but he was so in love with his own vessel, the _good fortune_, which was an excellent sailer, that he preferred to remain in her. the party now had two stout ships, but, as so often happened, trouble began to ferment amongst the crew. a large number of these had been more or less forced to "go a-pyrating," and were anxious to avoid the consequences, so they decided to send a round-robin--that is, a petition--signed by all with their names in a circle so that no rogue could be held to be more prominent than any other, to ask for the king's pardon. this round-robin was addressed to "his most sacred majesty george, by the grace of god, of great britain, france, and ireland, king, defender of the faith," etc. this petition was sent to england by a merchant vessel then sailing from jamaica, while the crews hid their ships amongst the mangrove swamps of a small uninhabited island off the coast of cuba. here they waited for nine months for an answer to their petition to the king, living on turtle, fish, rice, and, of course, rum _ad lib._ as long as it lasted. to pass the time various diversions were instigated, particularly dancing--a pastime in great favour amongst pirates. we have a most amusing account left us of a mock court of justice held by them to try one another of piracy, and he who was on one day tried as the prisoner would next day take his turn at being judge. this shows a grim sense of humour, as most of those who took part in these mock trials were certain to end their careers before a real trial unless they came to a sudden and violent end beforehand. here is an account of one such mock-trial as given to captain johnson, the historian of the pirates, by an eyewitness: "the court and criminals being both appointed, as also council to plead, the judge got up in a tree, and had a dirty taurpaulin hung over his shoulder; this was done by way of robe, with a thrum cap on his head, and a large pair of spectacles upon his nose. thus equipp'd, he settled himself in his place; and abundance of officers attending him below, with crows, handspikes, etc., instead of wands, tipstaves, and such like.... the criminals were brought out, making a thousand sour faces; and one who acted as attorney-general opened the charge against them; their speeches were very laconick, and their whole proceedings concise. we shall give it by way of dialogue. "attor. gen.: 'an't please your lordship, and you gentlemen of the jury, here is a fellow before you that is a sad dog, a sad sad dog; and i humbly hope your lordship will order him to be hang'd out of the way immediately.... he has committed pyracy upon the high seas, and we shall prove, an't please your lordship, that this fellow, this sad dog before you, has escaped a thousand storms, nay, has got safe ashore when the ship has been cast away, which was a certain sign he was not born to be drown'd; yet not having the fear of hanging before his eyes, he went on robbing and ravishing man, woman and child, plundering ships cargoes fore and aft, burning and sinking ship, bark and boat, as if the devil had been in him. but this is not all, my lord, he has committed worse villanies than all these, for we shall prove, that he has been guilty of drinking small-beer; and your lordship knows, there never was a sober fellow but what was a rogue. my lord, i should have spoke much finer than i do now, but that as your lordship knows our rum is all out, and how should a man speak good law that has not drank a dram.... however, i hope, your lordship will order the fellow to be hang'd.' "judge: '... hearkee me, sirrah ... you lousy, pittiful, ill-look'd dog; what have you to say why you should not be tuck'd up immediately, and set a sun-drying like a scare-crow?... are you guilty, or not guilty?' "pris.: 'not guilty, an't please your worship.' "judge: 'not guilty! say so again, sirrah, and i'll have you hang'd without any tryal.' "pris.: 'an't please your worship's honour, my lord, i am as honest a poor fellow as ever went between stem and stern of a ship, and can hand, reef, steer, and clap two ends of a rope together, as well as e'er a he that ever cross'd salt water; but i was taken by one george bradley' (the name of him that sat as judge,) 'a notorious pyrate, a sad rogue as ever was unhang'd, and he forc'd me, an't please your honour.' "judge: 'answer me, sirrah.... how will you be try'd?' "pris.: 'by g---- and my country.' "judge: 'the devil you will.... why then, gentlemen of the jury, i think we have nothing to do but to proceed to judgement.' "attor. gen.: 'right, my lord; for if the fellow should be suffered to speak, he may clear himself, and that's an affront to the court.' "pris.: 'pray, my lord, i hope your lordship will consider ...' "judge: 'consider!... how dare you talk of considering?... sirrah, sirrah, i never consider'd in all my life.... i'll make it treason to consider.' "pris.: 'but, i hope, your lordship will hear some reason.' "judge: 'd'ye hear how the scoundrel prates?... what have we to do with the reason?... i'd have you to know, raskal, we don't sit here to hear reason ... we go according to law.... is our dinner ready?' "attor. gen.: 'yes, my lord.' "judge: 'then heark'ee you raskal at the bar; hear me, sirrah, hear me.... you must suffer, for three reasons; first, because it is not fit i should sit here as judge, and no body be hanged.... secondly, you must be hanged, because you have a damn'd hanging look.... and thirdly, you must be hanged, because i am hungry; for, know, sirrah, that 'tis a custom, that whenever the judge's dinner is ready before the tryal is over, the prisoner is to be hanged of course.... there's law for you, ye dog.... so take him away gaoler.'" in august, , the pirates sailed out from their hiding-place and waylaid the ship which was returning to jamaica with the answer to the petition, but to their disappointment heard that no notice had been taken of their round-robin by the government at home. no time was lost in returning to their old ways, for the very next day both pirate ships left their hiding-place and sailed out on the "grand account." but now their luck deserted them, for the _morning star_ was run aground on a reef by gross neglect on the part of the officers and wrecked. most of the crew escaped on to an island, where captain anstis found them next day, and no sooner had he taken aboard captain fenn, phillips, the carpenter, and a few others, than all of a sudden down upon them came two men-of-war, the _hector_ and the _adventure_, so that anstis had barely time to cut his cables and get away to sea, hotly pursued by the _adventure_. the latter, in a stiff breeze, was slowly gaining on the brigantine when all of a sudden the wind dropped, the pirates got out the sweeps, and thus managed, for the time being, to escape. in the meantime the _hector_ took prisoner the forty pirates remaining on the island. anstis soon got to work again, and captured several prizes. he then sailed to the island of tobago to clean and refit his ship. just when all the guns and stores had been landed and the ship heeled, as ill-luck would have it, the _winchester_, man-of-war, put into the bay; and the pirates had barely time to set their ship on fire and to escape into the woods. anstis had by now lost all authority over his discontented crew, and one night was shot while asleep in his hammock. antonio. captain of the darien indians and friend to the english buccaneers. archer, john rose. he learnt his art as a pirate in the excellent school of the notorious blackbeard. in he was, for the time being, in honest employment in a newfoundland fishing-boat, which was captured by phillips and his crew. as phillips was only a beginner at piracy, he was very glad to get the aid of such an old hand at the game as john archer, whom he promptly appointed to the office of quartermaster in the pirate ship. this quick promotion caused some murmuring amongst phillips's original crew, the carpenter, fern, being particularly outspoken against it. archer ended his days on the gallows at boston on june nd, , and we read that he "dy'd very penitent, with the assistance of two grave divines to attend him." argall. licensed and titled buccaneer. believed to have buried a rich treasure in the isles of shoals, off portsmouth, new hampshire, in the seventeenth century. armstrong. born in london. a deserter from the royal navy. one of captain roberts's crew taken by h.m.s. _swallow_, from which ship he had previously deserted. in an account of his execution on board h.m.s. _weymouth_ we read: "being on board a man of war there was no body to press him to an acknowledgement of the crime he died for, nor of sorrowing in particular for it, which would have been exemplary, and made suitable impressions on seamen; so that his last hour was spent in lamenting and bewailing his sins in general, exhorting the spectators to an honest and good life, in which alone they could find satisfaction." this painful scene ended by the condemned singing with the spectators a few verses of the th psalm: at the conclusion of which, at the firing of a gun, "he was tric'd up at the fore yard." died at the age of . arnold, sion. a madagascar pirate, who was brought to new england by captain shelley in . ashplant, valentine. born in the minories, london. he served with captain howell davis, and later with bartholomew roberts. he was one of the leading lights of roberts's crew, a member of the "house of lords." he took part in the capture and plundering of the _king solomon_ at cape apollonia, north-west coast of africa, in january, , when the pirates, in an open boat, attacked the ship while at anchor. ashplant was taken prisoner two years later by h.m.s. _swallow_. tried for piracy at cape coast castle and found guilty in march, , and hanged in chains there at the age of . atwell. a hand aboard the brig _vineyard_ in , he took part with charles gibbs and others in a mutiny in which both the captain and mate was murdered. augur, captain john. a pirate of new providence, bahama islands. he accepted the royal pardon in , and impressed the governor, woodes rogers, so favourably that he was placed in command of a sloop to go and trade amongst the islands. a few days out augur met with two sloops, "the sight of which dispelled all memory of their late good intention," and turning pirates once more, they seized the two sloops and took out of them money and goods to the value of £ . the pirates now sailed for hispaniola, but with bad luck, or owing to retribution, a sudden hurricane arose which drove them back to the one spot in the west indies they must have been most anxious to avoid--that is, the bahama islands. here the sloop became a total wreck, but the crew got ashore and for a while lay hidden in a wood. rogers, hearing where they were, sent an armed sloop to the island, and the captain by fair promises induced the eleven marooned pirates to come aboard. taking these back to providence, rogers had them all tried before a court of lately converted pirates, and they were condemned to be hanged. while standing on the gallows platform the wretched culprits reproached the crowd of spectators, so lately their fellow-brethren in piracy, for allowing their old comrades to be hanged, and urging them to come to the rescue. but virtue was still strong in these recent converts, and all the comfort the criminals got was to be told "it was their business to turn their minds to another world, and sincerely to repent of what wickedness they had done in this." "yes," answered the now irritated and in no-wise abashed augur, "i _do_ heartily repent: i repent i have not done more mischief, and that we did not cut the throats of them that took us, and i am extremely sorry that you an't all hang'd as well as we." austin, james. captured with the rest of captain john quelch's crew in the brigantine _charles_. escaped for a time, but was caught and secured in the gaol at piscataqua, and later on tried for piracy at the star tavern at boston in june, . avery, captain john, _alias_ henry every, _alias_ captain bridgeman. nicknamed "long ben," or the "arch-pirate." in the year , when at the height of his career, avery caught the public's fancy as no other pirate ever did, with the possible exception of captain kidd. so much so that his achievements, or supposed achievements, formed the plot of several popular novels and plays. charles johnson wrote a play called "the successful pyrate," which work ran into several editions, and was acted at the theatre royal in drury lane. the scene in this play was laid in the island of madagascar, and the hero was modelled on captain avery. this pirate was a devonshire man, being born near plymouth about the year , and was bred to the sea. he sailed on several voyages as mate aboard a merchantman. he was later appointed first officer in an armed privateer _the duke_, commander captain gibson, which sailed from bristol for spain, being hired by the spaniards for service in the west indies against the french pirates. avery soon plotted a mutiny, which was carried out while _the duke_ lay at anchor in cadiz harbour; the ship was seized, and the captain put ashore. avery was elected captain, and he renamed the ship the _charles the second_. for more than a year avery sailed in this vessel, preying without distinction upon persons of all nations and religions. after leaving spain he first sailed to the isle of may, holding the portuguese governor for ransom till provisions were sent on board. he took near here three english ships, then sailed to the coast of guinea to procure slaves. to catch these avery would anchor off a village and hoist english colours. the trusting negroes would then paddle off to the ship in canoes, bringing gold to traffic with. at a given signal these natives would be seized, clapped in irons, and thrown into the hold. avery next sailed to the island of princes, where he attacked two danish ships, and took them both. the next place the pirates touched at was madagascar, from there they sailed to the red sea to await the fleet expected from mocha. to pass the time and to earn an honest penny the pirates called in at a town called meat, there to sell to the natives some of their stolen merchandise. but the cautious inhabitants refused to do any business with these suspicious looking merchants, so in order to punish them the pirates burnt down their town. they next visited aden, where they met two other english pirate ships, and were soon joined by three others from america, all on the same enterprise. expecting the mocha fleet to come along, they waited here, but the fleet slipped past the pirates in the night. avery was after them the next morning, and catching them up, singled out the largest ship, fought her for two hours, and took her. she proved to be the _gunsway_, belonging to the great mogul himself, and a very valuable prize, as out of her they took , pieces of eight and a like number of chequins, as well as several of the highest persons of the court who were passengers on a pilgrimage to mecca. it was rumoured that a daughter of the great mogul was also on board. accounts of this exploit eventually reached england, and created great excitement, so that it soon became the talk of the town that captain avery had taken the beautiful young princess to madagascar, where he had married her and was living in royal state, the proud father of several small princes and princesses. the mogul was naturally infuriated at this outrage on his ship, and threatened in retaliation to lay waste all the east india company's settlements. having got a vast booty, avery and his friends sailed towards madagascar, and on the way there avery, as admiral of the little fleet, signalled to the captain of the other sloops to come aboard his vessel. when they arrived avery put before them the following ingenious scheme. he proposed that the treasures in the two sloops should, for safety, be put into his keeping till they all three arrived in madagascar. this, being agreed to, was done, but during the night, after avery had explained matters to his own men, he altered his course and left the sloops, and never saw them again. he now sailed away with all the plunder to the west indies, arriving safely at new providence island in the bahamas, where he offered the governor a bribe of twenty pieces of eight and two pieces of gold to get him a pardon. avery arrived in at boston, where he appears to have successfully bribed the quaker governor to let him and some of his crew land with their spoils unmolested. but the pirate did not feel quite safe, and also thought it would be wellnigh impossible to sell his diamonds in the colony without being closely questioned as to how he came by them. so, leaving america, he sailed to the north of ireland, where he sold the sloop. here the crew finally dispersed, and avery stopped some time in dublin, but was still unable to dispose of his stolen diamonds. thinking england would be a better place for this transaction, he went there, and settled at bideford in devon. here he lived very quietly under a false name, and through a friend communicated with certain merchants in bristol. these came to see him, accepted his diamonds and some gold cups, giving him a few pounds for his immediate wants, and took the valuables to bristol to sell, promising to send him the money procured for them. time dragged on, but nothing came from the bristol merchants, and at last it began to dawn on avery that there were pirates on land as well as at sea. his frequent letters to the merchants brought at the most but a few occasional shillings, which were immediately swallowed up by the payment of his debts for the bare necessities of life at bideford. at length, when matters were becoming desperate, avery was taken ill and died "not being worth as much as would buy him a coffin." thus ended avery, "the grand pirate," whose name was known all over europe, and who was supposed to be reigning as a king in madagascar when all the while he was hiding and starving in a cottage at bideford. aylett, captain. this buccaneer was killed by an explosion of gunpowder on board the _oxford_ during a banquet of morgan's captains off hispaniola in . baily, job, or bayley. of london. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged at charleston in . baker, captain. one of gasparilla's gang up to , when they were broken up by the united states navy. his favourite hunting-ground was the gulf of mexico. ball, roger. one of captain bartholomew's crew in the _royal fortune_. captured by h.m.s. _swallow_ off the west coast of africa. he had been terribly burnt by an explosion of a barrel of gunpowder, and while seated "in a private corner, with a look as sullen as winter," a surgeon of the king's ship came up and asked him how he came to be blown up in that frightful manner. "why," says he, "john morris fired a pistol into the powder, and if he had not done it, i would." the surgeon, with great kindness, offered to dress the prisoner's wounds, but ball, although in terrible pain, refused to allow them to be touched. he died the same night. ballet, john. buccaneer. third mate on board woodes rogers's ship, the _duke_, but was by profession a surgeon, in which latter capacity he had sailed on a previous voyage with dampier. baltizar, captain. a terror to all shipping in the gulf of mexico in the early part of the nineteenth century. brought to boston as a prisoner in , taken thence to kingston, jamaica, and there hanged. for some extraordinary reason the american juries seldom would condemn a pirate to death, so that whenever possible the pirate prisoners were handed over to the english, who made short shift with them. bannister, captain. ran away from port royal, jamaica, in june, , on a "privateering" venture in a ship of thirty guns. caught and brought back by the frigate _ruby_, and put on trial by the lieutenant-governor molesworth, who was at that time very active in his efforts to stamp out piracy in the west indies. bannister entirely escaped punishment, capital or otherwise, as he was released by the grand jury on a technical point, surely most rare good fortune for the captain in days when the law was elastic enough to fit most crimes, and was far from lenient on piracy. six months later the indefatigable captain again eluded the forts, and for two years succeeded in dodging the frigates sent out by governor molesworth to capture him. finally, in january, , captain spragge sailed victoriously into port royal with bannister and three other buccaneers hanging at the yard-arm, "a spectacle of great satisfaction to all good people, and of terror to the favourers of pirates." barbarossa, or "redbeard" (his real name was uruj). barbary corsair. son of a turkish renegade and a christian mother. born in the island of lesbon in the Ægean sea, a stronghold of the mediterranean pirates. in barbarossa made his headquarters at tunis, in return for which he paid the sultan one-fifth of all the booty he took. one of his first and boldest exploits was the capture of two richly laden galleys belonging to pope julius ii., on their way from genoa to civita vecchia. next year he captured a spanish ship with soldiers on board. in he was invited by the moors to assist them in an attempt to retake the town and port of bujeya from the spaniards. after eight days of fighting, barbarossa lost an arm, and the siege was given up, but he took away with him a large genoese ship. in barbarossa changed his headquarters to jijil, and took command of an army of , men and sixteen galliots, with which he attacked and captured the spanish fortress of algiers, of which he became sultan. barbarossa was by now vastly rich and powerful, his fleets bringing in prizes from genoa, naples, venice, and spain. eventually charles v. of spain sent an army of , troops to north africa, defeated the corsairs, and barbarossa was slain in battle. barbe, captain nicholas. master of a breton ship, the _mychell_, of st. malo, owned by hayman gillard. captured by an english ship in . her crew was made up of nine bretons and five scots. barnard, captain. buccaneer. in june, , this buccaneer sailed from port royal to the orinoco. he took and plundered the town of santo tomas, and returned the following march. barnes, captain. in several english privateers surprised and sacked the town of santa marta in the spanish main. to save the town from being burnt, the governor and bishop became hostages until a ransom had been paid. these the pirates, under the command of captains barnes and coxon, carried back to jamaica and delivered up to lord vaughan, the governor of the island. vaughan treated the bishop well, and hired a vessel specially to send him back to castagona, for which kindness "the good old man was exceedingly pleased." barnes, henry. of barbadoes. tried for piracy at newport in , but found to be not guilty. barrow, james. taken by captain roberts out of the _martha_ snow (captain lady). turned pirate and served in the _ranger_ in . bellamy, captain charles. pirate, socialist, and orator. a famous west indian filibuster. he began life as a wrecker in the west indies, but this business being uncertain in its profits, and bellamy being an ambitious young man, he decided with his partner, paul williams, to aim at higher things, and to enter the profession of piracy. bellamy had now chosen a calling that lent itself to his undoubted talents, and his future career, while it lasted, was a brilliant one. procuring a ship, he sailed up and down the coast of carolina and new england, taking and plundering numerous vessels; and when this neighbourhood became too hot for him he would cruise for a while in the cooler climate of newfoundland. bellamy had considerable gifts for public speaking, and seldom missed an opportunity of addressing the assembled officers and crews of the ships he took, before liberating or otherwise disposing of them. his views were distinctly socialistic. on one occasion, in an address to a captain beer, who had pleaded to have his sloop returned to him, captain bellamy, after clearing his throat, began as follows: "i am sorry," he said, "that you can't have your sloop again, for i scorn to do anyone any mischief--when it is not to my advantage--though you are a sneaking puppy, and so are all those who will submit to be governed by laws which rich men have made for their own security, for the cowardly whelps have not the courage otherwise to defend what they get by their knavery. but damn ye altogether for a pack of crafty rascals, and you, who serve them, for a parcel of hen-hearted numbskulls! they vilify us, the scoundrels do, when there is the only difference that they rob the poor under cover of the law, forsooth, and we plunder the rich under the protection of our own courage. had you not better make one of us than sneak after these villains for employment?" bellamy's fall came at last at the hands of a whaler captain. at the time he was in command of the _whidaw_ and a small fleet of other pirate craft, which was lying at anchor in the bay of placentia in newfoundland. sailing from placentia for nantucket shoals, he seized a whaling vessel, the _mary anne_. as the skipper of the whaler knew the coast well, bellamy made him pilot of his small fleet. the cunning skipper one night ran his ship on to a sand-bank near eastman, massachusetts, and the rest of the fleet followed his stern light on to the rocks. almost all the crews perished, only seven of the pirates being saved. these were seized and brought to trial, condemned, and hanged at boston in . the days spent between the sentence and the hanging were not wasted, for we read in a contemporary account that "by the indefatigable pains of a pious and learned divine, who constantly attended them, they were at length, by the special grace of god, made sensible of and truly penitent for the enormous crimes they had been guilty of." belvin, james. bo'son to captain gow, the pirate. he had the reputation of being a good sailor but a bloodthirsty fellow. was hanged at wapping in june, . beme, francis. in this baltic pirate was cruising off antwerp, waiting to waylay english merchant vessels. bendall, george, or bendeall. a flourishing pirate, whose headquarters, in the early eighteenth century, were in new providence island. in the year , king george offered a free pardon to all freebooters who would come in and give themselves up. but the call of the brotherhood was too strong for a few of the "old hands," and bendall, amongst others, was off once again to carry on piracy around the bahama and virgin islands. within a few years these last "die-hards" were all killed, drowned, caught, or hanged. bennett, william. an english soldier, who deserted from fort loyal, falmouth, marne, in , and joined the pirate pounds. was sent to prison at boston, where he died. bill, philip. belonged to the island of st. thomas. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged at the age of . bishop. an irishman. chief mate to the pirate captain cobham. bishop, captain. in , bishop and a few other english seamen set up as pirates at marmora on the barbary coast. bishop, william. one of avery's crew. hanged at execution dock in . blads, william. born in rhode island. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged at newport on july th, . age . blake, benjamin. a boston boy, taken prisoner with captain pounds's crew at tarpaulin cove. blake, james. one of captain teach's crew. hanged in at virginia. blewfield, captain, or blauvelt. in this dutch pirate brought a prize into newport, rhode island. in was known to be living among the friendly indians at cape gratia de dios on the spanish main. he commanded a barque carrying three guns and a crew of fifty men. he was very active in the logwood cutting in honduras. whether the town and river of bluefield take their name from this pirate is uncertain, but the captain must many a time have gone up the river into the forests of nicaragua on his logwood cutting raids. blot, captain. french filibuster. in was in command of _la quagone_, ninety men, eight guns. bolivar, lieutenant. this portuguese pirate was first officer to captain jonnia. he was a stout, well-built man of swarthy complexion and keen, ferocious eyes, huge black whiskers and beard, and a tremendously loud voice. he took the boston schooner _exertion_ at twelve league key on december th, . bond, captain. of bristol. in arrived at the cape verde islands. having procured leave to land on mayo island, on the pretence of being an honest merchant in need of provisions, particularly of beef and goats, bond and his crew seized and carried away some of the principal inhabitants. a year later john cooke and cowley arrived at mayo in the _revenge_, but were prevented by the inhabitants from landing owing to their recent treatment at the hands of bond. bonnet, major stede, _alias_ captain thomas, _alias_ edwards. the history of this pirate is both interesting and unique. he was not brought up to the seafaring life; in fact, before he took to piracy, he had already retired from the army, with the rank of major. he owned substantial landed property in barbadoes, lived in a fine house, was married, and much respected by the quality and gentry of that island. his turning pirate naturally greatly scandalized his neighbours, and they found it difficult at first to imagine whatever had caused this sudden and extraordinary resolution, particularly in a man of his position in society. but when the cause at last came to be known, he was more pitied than blamed, for it was understood that the major's mind had become unbalanced owing to the unbridled nagging of mrs. bonnet. referring to this, the historian captain johnson writes as follows: "he was afterwards rather pitty'd than condemned, by those that were acquainted with him, believing that this humour of going a-pyrating proceeded from a disorder in his mind, which had been but too visible in him, some time before this wicked undertaking; and which is said to have been occasioned by some discomforts he found in a married state; be that as it will, the major was but ill qualified for the business, as not understanding maritime affairs." whatever the cause of the major's "disorder of mind," the fact remains that at his own expense he fitted out a sloop armed with ten guns and a crew of seventy men. the fact that he honestly paid in cash for this ship is highly suspicious of a deranged mind, since no other pirate, to the writer's knowledge, ever showed such a nicety of feeling, but always stole the ship in which to embark "on the account." the major, to satisfy the curious, gave out that he intended to trade between the islands, but one night, without a word of farewell to mrs. bonnet, he sailed out of harbour in the _revenge_, as he called his ship, and began to cruise off the coast of virginia. for a rank amateur, bonnet met with wonderful success, as is shown by a list of the prizes he took and plundered in this first period of his piracy: the _anne_, of glasgow (captain montgomery). the _turbet_, of barbadoes, which, after plundering, he burnt, as he did all prizes from barbadoes. the _endeavour_ (captain scott). the _young_, of leith. the plunder out of these ships he sold at gardiner island, near new york. cruising next off the coast of carolina, bonnet took a brace of prizes, but began to have trouble with his unruly crew, who, seeing that their captain knew nothing whatever of sea affairs, took advantage of the fact and commenced to get out of hand. unluckily for bonnet, he at this time met with the famous captain teach, or blackbeard, and the latter, quickly appreciating how matters stood, ordered the major to come aboard his own ship, while he put his lieutenant, richards, to command bonnet's vessel. the poor major was most depressed by this undignified change in his affairs, until blackbeard lost his ship in topsail inlet, and finding himself at a disadvantage, promptly surrendered to the king's proclamation and allowed bonnet to reassume command of his own sloop. but major bonnet had been suffering from qualms of conscience latterly, so he sailed to bath town in north carolina, where he, too, surrendered to the governor and received his certificate of pardon. almost at once news came of war being declared between england and france with spain, so bonnet hurried back to topsail, and was granted permission to take back his sloop and sail her to st. thomas's island, to receive a commission as a privateer from the french governor of that island. but in the meanwhile teach had robbed everything of any value out of bonnet's ship, and had marooned seventeen of the crew on a sandy island, but these were rescued by the major before they died of starvation. just as the ship was ready to sail, a bumboat came alongside to sell apples and cider to the sloop's crew, and from these they got an interesting piece of news. they learnt that teach, with a crew of eighteen men, was at that moment lying at anchor in ocricock inlet. the major, longing to revenge the insult he had suffered from blackbeard, and his crew remembering how he had left them to die on a desert island, went off in search of teach, but failed to find him. stede bonnet having received his pardon in his own name, now called himself captain thomas and again took to piracy, and evidently had benefited by his apprenticeship with blackbeard, for he was now most successful, taking many prizes off the coast of virginia, and later in delaware bay. bonnet now sailed in a larger ship, the _royal james_, so named from feelings of loyalty to the crown. but she proved to be very leaky, and the pirates had to take her to the mouth of cape fear river for repairs. news of this being carried to the council of south carolina, arrangements were made to attempt to capture the pirate, and a colonel william rhet, at his own expense, fitted out two armed sloops, the _henry_ (eight guns and seventy men) and the _sea nymph_ (eight guns and sixty men), both sailing under the direct command of the gallant colonel. on september th, , the sloops arrived at cape fear river, and there sure enough was the _royal james_, with three sloops lying at anchor behind the bar. the pirate tried to escape by sailing out, but was followed by the colonel's two vessels until all three ran aground within gunshot of each other. a brisk fight took place for five hours, when the major struck his colours and surrendered. there was great public rejoicing in charleston when, on october rd, colonel rhet sailed victoriously into the harbour with his prisoners. but next day bonnet managed to escape out of prison and sailed to swillivant's island. the indefatigable colonel rhet again set out after the major, and again caught him and brought him back to charleston. the trial of stede bonnet and his crew began on october th, , at charleston, and continued till november th, the judge being nicholas trot. bonnet was found guilty and condemned to be hanged. judge trot made a speech of overwhelming length to the condemned, full of biblical quotations, to each of which the learned magistrate gave chapter and verse. in november, , the gallant, if unfortunate, major was hanged at white point, charleston. apart from the unusual cause for his turning pirate, bonnet is interesting as being almost the only case known, otherwise than in books of romance, of a pirate making his prisoners walk the plank. bonny, anne. female pirate. anne was born in county cork, and her father was an attorney-at-law, who practised his profession in that city, her mother being lady's maid to the attorney's lawful wife. the story of the events which led to the existence of anne may be read in johnson's "history of the pyrates," where it is recounted in a style quite suggestive of fielding. in spite of its sad deficiency in moral tone, the narrative is highly diverting. but as this work is strictly confined to the history of the pirates and not to the amorous intrigues of their forbears, we will skip these pre-natal episodes and come to the time when the attorney, having lost a once flourishing legal practice, sailed from ireland to carolina to seek a fortune there, taking his little daughter anne with him. in new surroundings fortune favoured the attorney, and he soon owned a rich plantation, and his daughter kept house for him. anne was now grown up and a fine young woman, but had a "fierce and courageous temper," which more than once led her into scrapes, as, on one occasion, when in a sad fit of temper, she slew her english servant-maid with a case-knife. but except for these occasional outbursts of passion she was a good and dutiful girl. her father now began to think of finding a suitable young man to be a husband for anne, which would not be hard to do, since anne, besides her good looks, was his heir and would be well provided for by him. but anne fell in love with a good-looking young sailor who arrived one day at charleston, and, knowing her father would never consent to such a match, the lovers were secretly married, in the expectation that, the deed being done, the father would soon become reconciled to it. but on the contrary, the attorney, on being told the news, turned his daughter out of doors and would have nothing more to do with either of them. the bridegroom, finding his heiress worth not a groat, did what other sailors have done before and since, and slipped away to sea without so much as saying good-bye to his bride. but a more gallant lover soon hove in sight, the handsome, rich, dare-devil pirate, captain john rackam, known up and down the coast as "calico jack." jack's methods of courting and taking a ship were similar--no time wasted, straight up alongside, every gun brought to play, and the prize seized. anne was soon swept off her feet by her picturesque and impetuous lover, and consented to go to sea with him in his ship, but disguised herself in sailor's clothes before going on board. the lovers sailed together on a piratical honeymoon until certain news being conveyed to captain rackam by his bride, he sailed to cuba and put anne ashore at a small cove, where he had a house and also friends, who he knew would take good care of her. but before long anne was back in the pirate ship, as active as any of her male shipmates with cutlass and marlinspike, always one of the leaders in boarding a prize. however, the day of retribution was at hand. while cruising near jamaica in october, , the pirates were surprised by the sudden arrival of an armed sloop, which had been sent out by the governor of that island for the express purpose of capturing rackam and his crew. a fight followed, in which the pirates behaved in a most cowardly way, and were soon driven below decks, all but anne bonny and another woman pirate, mary read, who fought gallantly till taken prisoners, all the while flaunting their male companions on their cowardly conduct. the prisoners were carried to jamaica and tried for piracy at st. jago de la vega, and convicted on november th, . anne pleaded to have her execution postponed for reasons of her condition of health, and this was allowed, and she never appears to have been hanged, though what her ultimate fate was is unknown. on the day that her lover rackam was hanged he obtained, by special favour, permission to see anne, but must have derived little comfort from the farewell interview, for all he got in the way of sympathy from his lady love were these words--that "she was sorry to see him there, but if he had fought like a man, he need not have been hang'd like a dog." boon, john. member of the council of carolina under governor colleton, and expelled from it "for holding correspondence with pirates," . booth, samuel. of charleston, carolina. one of major bonnet's crew. hanged at charleston, south carolina, in . bournano, captain, or de bernanos. in this famous french filibuster commanded a ship of ninety tons, armed with six guns, and manned by a crew of eighty-six french sailors. joined captain bartholomew sharp when he was preparing his expedition to assault the town of santa maria. bournano was a useful ally, as he was much liked by the darien indians, but his crew quarrelled with the english buccaneers, and they left sharp's company. in the year , bournano, known by then as le sieur de bernanos, commanded a ship, _la schite_, carrying a crew of sixty men and armed with eight guns. la bouse, captain oliver, or de la bouche. french pirate. when captain howel davis had taken and sacked the fort at gambia and with his crew was spending a day in revelry, a ship was reported, bearing down on them in full sail. the pirates prepared to fight her, when she ran up the black flag and proved to be a french pirate ship of fourteen guns and sixty-four hands, half french and half negroes, commanded by captain la bouse. a great many civilities passed between the two captains, and they agreed to sail down the coast together. arriving at sierra leone, they found a tall ship lying at anchor. this ship they attacked, firing a broadside, when she also ran up the black flag, being the vessel of the notorious captain cocklyn. for the next two days the three captains and their crews "spent improving their acquaintance and friendship," which was the pirate expression for getting gloriously drunk. on the third day they attacked and took the african company's fort. shortly afterwards the three captains quarrelled, and each went his own way. in la bouse was at new providence island. in this pirate commanded the _indian queen_, tons, armed with twenty-eight guns, and a crew of ninety men. sailing from the guinea coast to the east indies, de la bouche lost his ship on the island of mayotta, near madagascar. the captain and forty men set about building a new vessel, while the remainder went off in canoes to join captain england's pirates at johanna. bowen. a bristol man. in , when the breton pirates were becoming very daring along the south coast of england and wales, bowen contrived to capture fourteen of these robbers, who had landed near tenby, and had them put in prison. bowen, captain john. the practice of this south sea pirate extended from madagascar to bengal. he commanded a good ship, the _speaker_, a french vessel, owned by an english company interested in the slave trade, which bowen had captured by a cunning ruse. he afterwards lost his ship off mauritius, but was well treated by the dutch governor, who supplied doctors, medicine, and food to the shipwrecked pirates. after three months' hospitality on the island, bowen procured a sloop, and in march, , sailed for madagascar. as a parting friendly gift to the governor, he gave him , pieces of eight and the wreck of the _speaker_, with all the guns and stores. on arriving at madagascar, bowen erected a fort and built a town. shortly after this a ship, the _speedy return_, and a brigantine were so very thoughtless as to put into the port, and paid for this thoughtlessness by being promptly seized by bowen. with these two vessels bowen and his merry men went "a-pyrating" again, and with great success, for in a short time they had gathered together over a million dollars in coin, as well as vast quantities of valuable merchandise. the pirates then, most wisely, considering that they had succeeded well enough, settled down amongst their dutch friends in the island of mauritius to a quiet and comfortable life on shore. bowman, william. a seaman; one of the party which crossed the isthmus of darien on foot with dampier in . wafer records that bowman, "a weakly man, a taylor by trade," slipped while crossing a swollen river, and was carried off by the swift current, and nearly drowned by the weight of a satchel he carried containing pieces of eight. boyd, robert. of bath town, north carolina. sailed with major stede bonnet in the _royal james_. hanged on november th, , at charleston. boyza. a columbian. one of captain gilbert's crew in the _panda_. hanged at boston in june, . bradish, captain joseph. a notorious pirate. born at cambridge, massachusetts, on november th, . in march, , was in london out of a berth, and shipped as mate in the hake-boat _adventure_, bound for borneo on an interloping trade. in september, , when most of the officers and passengers were ashore at the island of polonais, bradish and the crew cut the cable and ran away with the ship. the crew shared the money which was found in the bread-room, and which filled nine chests, amounting to about , spanish dollars. bradish sailed the _adventure_ to long island, arriving there on march th, . after leaving their money and jewels on nassau island, they sank their ship. most of the crew bought horses at the neighbouring farmhouses and disappeared. bradish and a few others were rash enough to go to massachusetts, where they were promptly arrested and placed in the boston gaol. but the gaolkeeper, one caleb ray, was a relation of bradish, and allowed him to escape. an offer of a reward of £ brought the escaped prisoner back, and he sailed in irons on h.m.s. _advice_, with kidd and other pirates, to england, and was hanged in chains in london at hope dock in . bradley, george. master of captain fenn's ship, the _morning star_, wrecked on the grand caymans in august, . the crew got ashore on an island and hid in the woods. bradley and the other pirates afterwards surrendered themselves to an english sloop, and were carried to bermuda. bradley escaped to england, and was last heard of at bristol. breakes, captain hiram. this dutch pirate was the second son of a well-to-do councillor of the island of saba in the west indies. hiram was appointed in the year to a ship which traded between that island and amsterdam. in the latter port, hiram, who was now years of age and a handsome fellow standing over six feet in height, fell in love with a certain mrs. snyde. getting command of a small ship that traded between schiedam, in holland, and lisbon, breakes for some time sailed between these ports. returning to amsterdam, he and mrs. snyde murdered that lady's husband, but at the trial managed to get acquitted. breakes's next exploit was to steal his employer's ship and cargo and go out as a pirate, naming his vessel the _adventure_. his first exploit was a daring one. sailing into vigo harbour in full view of the forts, he seized a vessel, the _acapulco_, lately come from valparaiso, and took her off. on plundering her they found , small bars of gold, each about the size of a man's finger. the captain and crew of this chilian vessel were all murdered. breakes preferred the _acapulco_ to his own ship, so he fitted her up and sailed in her to the mediterranean. breakes was one of the religious variety of pirate, for after six days of robbing and throat-slitting he would order his crew to clean themselves on the sabbath and gather on the quarter-deck, where he would read prayers to them and would often preach a sermon "after the lutheran style," thus fortifying the brave fellows for another week of toil and bloodshed. gifted with unlimited boldness, breakes called in at gibraltar and requested the governor to grant him a british privateer's commission, which the governor did "for a consideration." sailing in the neighbourhood of the balearic islands, he took a few ships, when one day, spying a nunnery by the sea-shore in minorca, he proposed to his crew that they should fit themselves out with a wife apiece. this generous offer was eagerly accepted, and the crew, headed by captain breakes, marched up to the nunnery unopposed, and were welcomed at the door by the lady abbess. having entered the peaceful cloister, each pirate chose a nun and marched back to the ship with their spoils. soon after this breakes decided to retire from piracy, and returned to amsterdam to claim mrs. snyde. but he found that she had but lately been hanged for poisoning her little son, of which the pirate was father. this tragedy so preyed upon the mind of captain breakes that he turned "melancholy mad" and drowned himself in one of the many dykes with which that city abounds. breck, john. one of the crew of the brigantine _charles_ (captain john quelch). tried for piracy at boston in . breha, captain, _alias_ landresson. brenningham, captain. of jamaica and tortuga. in commanded a frigate of six guns and seventy men. brierly, john, _alias_ timberhead. of bath town in north carolina. one of the crew of the _royal james_. hanged at charleston in november, . bright, john. of st. margaret's, westminster. one of the crew of captain charles harris. hanged at newport, rhode island, in july, , at the age of . brinkley, james. of suffolk, england. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged for piracy at newport, rhode island, on july th, . age . brodley, captain joseph, or bradley, sometimes called "lieutenant-colonel." "an ancient and expert pirate." appointed vice-admiral by morgan in his expedition up the chagre river. he was a tough old pirate, and had proved himself a terror to the spaniards, particularly when mansvelt took the isle of st. catharine. in brodley was sent by morgan to capture the castle of chagre, a very strongly garrisoned fort. all day the pirates kept up a furious attack, but were driven back. at last, when it seemed impossible for the pirates ever to succeed in entering the castle, a remarkable accident happened which altered the whole issue. one of the pirates was wounded by an arrow in his back, which pierced his body and came out the opposite side. this he instantly pulled out at the side of his breast; then, taking a little cotton, he wound it about the arrow, and, putting it into his musket, he shot it back into the castle. the cotton, kindled by the powder, set fire to several houses within the castle, which, being thatched with palm-leaves, took fire very easily. this fire at last reached the powder magazine, and a great explosion occurred. owing to this accident of the arrow the pirates were eventually able to take the castle of chagre. this was one of the finest and bravest defences ever made by the spaniards. out of spanish soldiers in the castle, only thirty survived, all the rest, including the governor, being killed. brodley was himself severely wounded in this action and died as a consequence ten days later. brooks, joseph (senior). one of blackbeard's crew in the _queen ann's revenge_. killed on november nd, , at north carolina. brooks, joseph (junior). one of blackbeard's crew in the _queen ann's revenge_. taken prisoner by lieutenant maynard on november nd, . carried to virginia, where he was tried and hanged. brown, captain. a notorious latter-day pirate, who "worked" the east coast of central america in the early part of the nineteenth century. brown, captain. on july th, , sailed from jamaica in command of the _blessing_--ten guns and crew of seventy-nine men, with the famous edward davis on board--to attack the town of tolu on the spanish main. the town was taken and plundered, but brown was killed, being shot through the head. brown, captain nicholas. surrendered to the king's pardon for pirates at new providence, bahamas, in . soon afterwards he surrendered to the spanish governor of cuba, embraced the catholic faith, and turned pirate once more; and was very active in attacking english ships off the island of jamaica. brown, john. of durham, england. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged at the age of years at newport, rhode island, in . brown, john. of liverpool. one of captain harris's crew. found guilty of piracy at newport, rhode island, in , but recommended to the king's favour, perhaps in view of his age, being but years old. browne, captain james. a scotchman. in , when in command of a mixed crew of english, dutch, and french pirates, he took a dutch ship trading in negroes off the coast of cartagena. the dutch captain and several of his crew were killed, while the cargo of negroes was landed in a remote bay on the coast of jamaica. lord vaughan sent a frigate, which captured about a hundred of the negro slaves and also browne and eight of his pirate crew. the captain and crew were tried for piracy and condemned. the crew were pardoned, but browne was ordered to be executed. the captain appealed to the assembly to have the benefit of the act of privateers, and the house of assembly twice sent a committee to the governor to beg a reprieve. lord vaughan refused this and ordered the immediate execution of browne. half an hour after the hanging the provost-marshal appeared with an order, signed by the speaker, to stop the execution. browne, edward. of york river, virginia. one of captain pounds's crew. wounded at tarpaulin cove in . browne, john, _alias_ mamme. an english sailor who joined the barbary pirates at algiers and turned mohammedan. taken in the _exchange_ in and carried a prisoner to plymouth. browne, richard. surgeon. surgeon-general in morgan's fleet which carried the buccaneers to the spanish main. he wrote an account of the disastrous explosion on board the _oxford_ during a banquet given to morgan and the buccaneer commanders on january nd, , off cow island to the south of hispaniola, at which the details were being discussed for an attack on cartagena. browne writes: "i was eating my dinner with the rest when the mainmasts blew out and fell upon captains aylett and bigford and others and knocked them on the head. i saved myself by getting astride the mizzenmast." only morgan and those who sat on his side of the dinner-table were saved. browne, who certainly was not biased towards morgan in his accounts of his exploits, is one of the few narrators who gives the buccaneer admiral credit for moderation towards his prisoners, particularly women. buck, eleazer. one of captain pounds's crew. tried at boston in for piracy and found guilty, but pardoned on payment of a fine of twenty marks. buckenham, captain. in sailed from england to the west indies. he was taken by the spaniards off campeachy and carried to mexico. a seaman, russel, also a prisoner there, and who escaped afterwards, reported to lionel wafer that he last saw captain buckenham with a log chained to his leg and a basket on his back, crying bread about the streets of the city of mexico for his master, a baker. bull, captain dixey. born in london of a respectable family, and in went to boston, where he received a grant of land at york on the coast of maine. became a "trader for bever" in new england. in june, , while in penobscot bay, a french pinnace arrived and seized his shallop and stock of "coats, ruggs, blanketts, bisketts, etc." annoyed by this high-handed behaviour, bull collected together a small crew and turned pirate, thus being the very first pirate on the new england coast. bull took several small vessels, and was not caught by the authorities, who sent out small armed sloops to search for him, and nothing more was heard of this pioneer pirate after , although rumour said that he had reached england in safety. bull, mr. a member of the crew of coxon's canoe, he was killed in the famous attack by the buccaneers on the spanish fleet off panama in . bullock. surgeon. one of the crew at the second disastrous attack by captain sharp on the town of arica, when the buccaneers were driven out of the town. all escaped who could, except the surgeons, who, in a most unprofessional way, had been indulging somewhat freely in the wines of the country during the battle, and consequently were in no condition to take their places with the retreating force. the surgeons, after being taken prisoner, were persuaded to disclose to the spaniards the prearranged signals by smoke from two fires, which was to be given in case of a successful taking of the town, to bring up the boats that were hiding on the shore, ready to take the buccaneers back to their ships. fortunately the buccaneers on the shore arrived just as the canoes were getting under way, otherwise the whole remnant of them would have perished. the only one of these disreputable surgeons whose name we know is dr. bullock. some months afterwards it was ascertained, through a prisoner, that the spaniards "civilly entertained these surgeons, more especially the women." surgeons, even such surgeons as these, were considered to be valuable in those days in the out-of-the-way spanish colonies. bunce, charles. born at exeter; died at the age of . taken by captain roberts out of a dutch galley in , he joined the pirates, to be eventually hanged in . he made a moving speech from the gallows, "disclaiming against the guilded bates of power, liberty, and wealth that had ensnared him amongst the pirates," earnestly exhorting the spectators to remember his youth, and ending by declaring that "he stood there as a beacon upon a rock" (the gallows standing on one) "to warn erring marriners of danger." burder, william. mayor of dover. it may seem strange to accuse the mayor of so important a seaport as dover of being a pirate, but it is difficult to see how william burder is to escape the accusation when we learn that in the year he captured french vessels and a large number of neutral craft, which he plundered, and also no fewer than sixty-one spanish ships, to the very natural annoyance of the king of spain, whose country was at this time at peace with england. burgess, captain samuel south. born and bred in new york, he was a man of good education, and began his career on a privateer in the west indies. later on he was sent by a mr. philips, owner and shipbuilder, to trade with the pirates in madagascar. this business burgess augmented with a little piracy on his own account, and after taking several prizes he returned to the west indies, where he disposed of his loot. he then proceeded to new york, and, purposely wrecking his vessel at sandy hook, landed in the guise of an honest shipwrecked mariner. burgess settled down for a time to a well-earned rest, and married a relative of his employer, mr. philips. philips sent him on two further voyages, both of which were run on perfectly honest lines, and were most successful both to owner and captain. but a later voyage had an unhappy ending. after successfully trading with the pirates in madagascar, burgess was returning home, carrying several pirates as passengers, who were returning to settle in america, having made their fortunes. the ship was captured off the cape of good hope by an east indiaman, and taken to madras. here the captain and passengers were put in irons and sent to england to be tried. the case against burgess fell through, and he was liberated. instead of at once getting away, he loitered about london until one unlucky day he ran across an old pirate associate called culliford, on whose evidence burgess was again arrested, tried, and condemned to death, but pardoned at the last moment by the queen, through the intercession of the bishop of london. after a while he procured the post of mate in the _neptune_, a scotch vessel, which was to go to madagascar to trade liquors with the pirates who had their headquarters in that delectable island. on arrival at madagascar a sudden hurricane swept down, dismasted the _neptune_, and sank two pirate ships. the chief pirate, halsey, as usual, proved himself a man of resource. seeing that without a ship his activities were severely restricted, he promptly, with the help of his faithful and willing crew, seized the _neptune_, this satisfactory state of affairs being largely facilitated by the knowledge that the mate, burgess, was all ripe to go on the main chance once more. the first venture of this newly formed crew was most successful, as they seized a ship, the _greyhound_, which lay in the bay, the owners of which had but the previous day bought--and paid for--a valuable loading of merchandise from the pirates. this was now taken back by the pirates, who, having refitted the _neptune_, set forth seeking fresh adventures and prizes. the further history of burgess is one of constant change and disappointment. while serving under a captain north, he was accused of betraying some of his associates, and was robbed of all his hard-earned savings. for several years after this he lived ashore at a place in madagascar called methalage, until captured by some dutch rovers, who soon after were themselves taken by french pirates. burgess, with his former dutch captain, was put ashore at johanna, where, under the former's expert knowledge, a ship was built and sailed successfully to youngoul, where burgess got a post as third mate on a ship bound to the west indies. before sailing, burgess was sent, on account of his knowledge of the language, as ambassador to the local king. burgess, unfortunately for himself, had in the past said some rather unkind things about this particular ruler, and the offended monarch, in revenge, gave burgess some poisoned liquor to drink, which quickly brought to an end an active if chequered career. burgess, captain thomas. one of the pirates of the bahama islands who surrendered to king george in and received the royal pardon. he was afterwards drowned at sea. burk, captain. an irishman, who committed many piracies on the coast of newfoundland. drowned in the atlantic during a hurricane in . cachemarÉe, captain. french filibuster. commanded the _st. joseph_, of six guns and a crew of seventy men. in had his headquarters at san domingo. cÆsar. a negro. one of teach's crew hanged at virginia in . cæsar, who was much liked and trusted by blackbeard, had orders from him to blow up the _queen ann's revenge_ by dropping a lighted match into the powder magazine in case the ship was taken by lieutenant maynard. cæsar attempted to carry out his instructions, but was prevented from doing so by two of the surrendered pirates. cÆsar, captain. one of gasparilla's gang of pirates who hunted in the gulf of mexico. his headquarters were on sanibel island. calles, captain john, or callis. a notorious elizabethan pirate, whose activities were concentrated on the coast of wales. we quote captain john smith, the founder of virginia, who writes: "this ancient pirate callis, who most refreshed himselfe upon the coast of wales, who grew famous, till queene elizabeth of blessed memory, hanged him at wapping." calles did not die on the gallows without an attempt at getting let off. he wrote a long and ingenious letter to lord walsyngham, bewailing his former wicked life and promising, if spared, to assist in ridding the coast of pirates by giving particulars of "their roads, haunts, creeks, and maintainers." one of the chief of these "maintainers," or receivers of stolen property, was lord o'sullivan, or the sulivan bere of berehaven. in spite of a long and very plausible plea for pity, this "ancient and wicked pyrate" met his fate on the gibbet at wapping. cammock, william. a seaman under captain bartholomew sharp. he died at sea on december th, , off the coast of chile. "his disease was occasioned by a sunfit, gained by too much drinking on shore at la serena; which produced in him a _celenture_, or malignant fever and a hiccough." he was buried at sea with the usual honours of "three french vollies." candor, ralph. tried for piracy with the rest of captain lowther's crew at st. kitts in march, , and acquitted. cannis, _alias_ cannis marcy. a dutch pirate who acted as interpreter to captain bartholomew sharp's south sea expedition. captain cox and basil ringmore took him with them after the sacking of hilo in , to come to terms with the spanish cavalry over the ransoming of a sugar mill. on friday, may th, , while ashore with a watering party in the gulf of nicoya, the interpreter, having had, no doubt, his fill of buccaneering, ran away. caraccioli, signor, _alias_ d'aubigny. an italian renegade priest, who became an atheist, socialist, and revolutionist, and was living at naples when captain fourbin arrived there in the french man-of-war _victoire_. caraccioli met and made great friends with a young french apprentice in the ship, called misson, and a place was found for him on board. the ex-priest proved himself to be a brave man in several engagements with the moors and with an english warship, and was quickly promoted to be a petty officer. caraccioli, by his eloquence, soon converted most of the crew to believe in his theories, and when captain fourbin was killed in an action off martinique with an english ship, misson took command and appointed the italian to be his lieutenant, and continued to fight the english ship to a finish. the victorious crew then elected misson to be their captain, and decided to "bid defiance to all nations" and to settle on some out-of-the-way island. capturing another english ship off the cape of good hope, caraccioli was put in command of her, and the whole of the english crew voluntarily joined the pirates, and sailed to madagascar. here they settled, and the italian married the daughter of a black island king; an ideal republic was formed, and our hero was appointed secretary of state. eventually caraccioli died fighting during a sudden attack made on the settlement by a neighbouring tribe. carman, thomas. of maidstone in kent. hanged at charleston in with the rest of major bonnet's crew. carnes, john. one of blackbeard's crew. hanged at virginia in . carr, john. a massachusetts pirate, one of hore's crew, who was hiding in rhode island in . carter, dennis. tried for piracy in june, , at the star tavern in boston. one of john quelch's crew. carter, john. captured by major sewall in the _larimore_ galley, and brought into salem. one of captain quelch's crew. tried at boston in . castillo. a columbian sailor in the schooner _panda_. hanged for piracy at boston on june th, . la cata. a most blood-thirsty pirate and one of the last of the west indian gangs. in , when la cata was cruising off the isle of pines, his ship was attacked by an english cutter only half his size. after a furious fight the cutter was victorious, and returned in triumph to jamaica with the three survivors of the pirates as prisoners. one of these was found out at the trial to be la cata himself. hanged at kingston, jamaica. chandler, henry, _alias_ rammetham rise. born in devonshire, his father kept a chandler's shop in southwark. an english _renegado_ at algiers, who had turned mohammedan and had become an overseer in the pirates' shipyards. he was a man of some authority amongst the moors, and in he appointed a slave called goodale to become master of one of the pirate ships, the _exchange_, in which one rawlins also sailed. owing to the courage and ingenuity of the latter, the european slaves afterwards seized the ship and brought her into plymouth; chandler being thrown into gaol and afterwards hanged. cheesman, edward. taken prisoner out of the _dolphin_, on the banks of newfoundland, by the pirate phillips in . with the help of a fisherman called fillmore, he killed phillips and ten other pirates and brought the ship into boston harbour. chevalle, daniel. one of captain john quelch's crew. tried for piracy at boston in . child, thomas. in the year , at the age of , he was tried for piracy at newport, rhode island. this child must have seen scores of cold-blooded murders committed while he sailed with low and harris. found to be not guilty. christian, captain. in the town of tolu was sacked by captain brown of the _blessing_. brown was killed, and christian was elected to be captain in his stead. davis tells us that "christian was an old experienced soldier and privateer, very brave and just in all his actions." he had lived for a long while amongst the darien indians, with whom he was on very friendly terms. chuly, daniel. tried for piracy at boston, massachusetts, in . church, charles. of st. margaret's, westminster. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged on july th, , at newport, rhode island. age church, edward. in he served in the brig _vineyard_, from new orleans to philadelphia. took part in the mutiny which was planned by the notorious pirate charles gibbs. church, william. of the _gertrwycht_ of holland. at the trial at west africa in of the crew of bartholomew roberts's, four of the prisoners--w. church, phil. haak, james white, and nicholas brattle--were proved to have "served as musick on board the _royal fortune_, being taken out of several merchant ships, having had an uneasy life of it, having sometimes their fiddles, and often their heads broke, only for excusing themselves, as saying they were tired, when any fellow took it in his head to demand a tune." acquitted. churchill, john. one of captain george lowther's crew. captured by the _eagle_ sloop at the island of blanco, not far from tortuga. hanged on march th, , at st. kitts. clarke, jonathan. of charleston, south carolina. one of major stede bonnet's crew. tried for piracy at charleston in , and found to be not guilty. clarke, richard, _alias_ jafar. a renegade english sailor, who turned "turk"--that is, became a mohammedan--and was appointed chief gunner on one of the barbary pirate ships. captured in the _exchange_, and brought into plymouth in . he was hanged. clarke, robert. governor of new providence, bahama islands. instead of trying to stamp out the pirates, he did all he could to encourage them, by granting letters of marque to such men as coxon, to go privateering, these letters being quite illegal. the proprietors of the bahama islands turned clarke out and appointed in his place robert lilburne in . clifford, john. one of captain john quelch's crew; tried at the star tavern at boston in for piracy. all the accused pleaded "not guilty" except clifford and two others who turned queen's evidence. clinton, captain. one of the notorious sixteenth century pirates "who grew famous until queene elizabeth of blessed memory, hanged them at wapping." cobham, captain. of poole in dorsetshire. at the age of he took to smuggling. his biographer tells us that even at this comparatively early age cobham "was cautious and prudent, and though he intrigued with the ladies, he managed to keep it secret." cobham was very successful as a smuggler, on one occasion landing a cargo of ten thousand gallons of brandy at poole. but a little later on his vessel was captured by a king's cutter. this annoyed the young captain, and he bought a cutter at bridport, mounted fourteen guns in her, and turned pirate. out of his very first prize, an indiaman, which he boarded off the mersey, he took a sum of £ , , and then scuttled the ship and drowned the crew. cobham, calling in at plymouth, met a damsel called maria, whom he took on board with him, which at first caused some murmuring amongst his crew, who were jealous because they themselves were not able to take lady companions with them on their voyages, for, as the same biographer sagely remarks, "where a man is married the case is altered, no man envies him his happiness; but where he only keeps a girl, every man says, 'i have as much right to one as he has.'" nevertheless, maria proved herself a great success, for when any member of the crew was to be punished maria would use her influence with the captain to get him excused or his punishment lessened, thus winning the affection of all on board. the english channel becoming too dangerous for cobham, he sailed across the atlantic and lay in wait for vessels between cape breton and prince edward isle, and took several prizes. in one of these he placed all the crew in sacks and threw them into the sea. maria, too, took her part in these affairs, and once stabbed to the heart, with her own little dirk, the captain of a liverpool brig, the _lion_, and on another occasion, to indulge her whim, a captain and his two mates were tied up to the windlass while maria shot them with her pistol. maria always wore naval uniform, both at sea and when in port; in fact, she entered thoroughly into the spirit of the enterprise. cobham now wished to retire from the sea, but maria urged him to further efforts, as she had set her heart on his buying her a beautiful place in england called mapleton hall, near poole. maria's last act at sea was to poison the whole crew of an indiaman, who were prisoners in irons aboard the pirate ship. cobham having made a vast fortune, at last decided to settle down, and he bought a large estate near havre from the duc de chartres. it was on the coast, and had a snug little harbour of its own, where the retired pirate kept a small pleasure yacht in which he and maria used to go for fishing expeditions. one day, when they were out on one of these picnics, a west india brig lay becalmed near by, and cobham and his crew went on board to visit the captain of the merchant ship. but the temptation proved too strong, and cobham suddenly shooting the captain, maria and the yacht's crew quickly despatched the rest. carrying the prize to bordeaux, he sold her for a good price. this was cobham's last act of piracy, and soon afterwards he was made a magistrate, and presided at the county courts. maria, it was thought, possibly owing to remorse, poisoned herself with laudanum and died. cobham lived to a good old age, and eventually passed away, leaving many descendants, who, a hundred years ago, "were moving in the first grade at havre." cobham, mrs. maria. a bloodthirsty and ambitious woman pirate, the wife of captain cobham, late of poole in dorset. cocklyn, captain thomas. in was in the bahama islands when woodes rogers arrived at new providence island with king george's offer of pardon to those pirates who came in and surrendered themselves. cocklyn, like many others, after surrendering, fell again into their wicked ways, and ended by being hanged. only a year after receiving the royal pardon we hear of him being in company with davis and la bouse and several other notorious pirates at sierra leone, when he was in command of a tall ship of twenty-four guns. cocklyn ended his life on the gallows. cofrecina, captain. a notorious spanish-american pirate who was very troublesome in the south atlantic in the early part of the last century. eventually captured by midshipman hull foot of the u.s. navy in march, , at st. thomas isle. executed in porto rico by the terrible spanish method of the garotte. cole, captain john. commander of the _eagle_, _alias_ the _new york revenge's revenge_. tried, condemned, and hanged in at charleston. his was a brilliant career while it lasted, but was cut short after a brief and meteoric spell. cole, samuel. one of captain fly's crew. tried and condemned for piracy at boston in . on the way to the gallows the culprits were taken to church, where they had to listen to a long sermon from dr. colman, bringing home to the wretched creatures their dreadful sins and their awful future. collier, captain edward. commanded the _oxford_, a king's ship, which was sent from england to jamaica at the earnest request of governor modyford, for a "nimble frigate," to help keep control over the increasingly turbulent buccaneers. collier's first act was to seize a french man-of-war, a privateer called the _cour volent_, of la rochelle, commanded by m. la vivon, his excuse being that the frenchmen had robbed an english vessel of provisions. collier was appointed to be morgan's vice-admiral, and a few days later the _oxford_ was blown up accidentally while a conference of buccaneer captains was taking place. in , with six ships and men, the buccaneers sailed for the spanish main and sacked the city of rio de la hacha. collier led the left wing in the famous and successful attack on panama city with the rank of colonel. richard brown reports that collier could on occasions be very cruel, and that he even executed a spanish friar on the battlefield after quarter had been given to the vanquished. on their return to the coast after the sacking of panama, collier was accused, with morgan and the other commanders, of having cheated the seamen of their fair share of the plunder, and of deserting them, and then sailing off in the ships with the supplies of food as well as the plunder. collins, thomas. this madagascar pirate was a carpenter by trade, who had by retired from the sea and lived in splendour in that island. collins was made governor of the pirate colony, and built a small fort for its defence, which the pirates armed with the guns taken out of their ship, which had by long use grown old and crazy, and was of no further use to them. comry, adam. surgeon to the ship _elizabeth_, taken by captain bartholomew roberts's squadron. gave evidence at the trial of george wilson and another sea-surgeon, scudamore, that the former had borrowed from comry a "clean shirt and drawers, for his better appearance and reception." when visiting captain bartholomew roberts's ship, comry was forced to serve as surgeon on board one of roberts's vessels. condent, captain, _also_ congdon or conden. born at plymouth in devonshire. condent was quartermaster in a new york sloop, at the island of new providence, when governor woodes rogers arrived there in . the captain of the sloop seems to have thought best to leave rather than wait to welcome the new governor. when only a few days out, one of the crew, an indian, who had been cruelly treated, attempted, in revenge, to blow up the ship. this was prevented by condent, who with great courage leapt into the hold and shot the indian, but not before the latter had fired at him and broken his arm. the crew, to show the relief they felt at being saved from a sudden death, hacked to pieces the body of the indian, while the gunner, ripping open the dead man's belly, tore out his heart, which he boiled and ate. turning their attention from cannibalism to piracy, the pirates took a prize, the _duke of york_, but disputes arising, the captain and part of the crew sailed in the prize, while condent was elected captain of the sloop, and headed across the atlantic for the cape verde islands, where he found the salt fleet, of twenty small vessels, lying at anchor off the island of mayo, all of which he took. sailing next to the island of st. jago, he took a dutch ship. this proving a better ship than the sloop, condent transferred himself and crew into her, and named her the _flying dragon_, presenting the sloop to the mate of an english prize, who he had forced to go with him. from thence condent sailed away for the coast of brazil, taking several portuguese ships which, after plundering, he let go. after cleaning the _flying dragon_ on ferdinando island, the pirates took several more prizes, and then one day met with a portuguese man-of-war of seventy guns. coming up with her, the portuguese hailed the pirates, and they answered "from london bound for buenos ayres." the man-of-war, to pay a compliment to the ship of her english ally, manned the shrouds and cheered him, and while this amicable demonstration of marine brotherly feeling was taking place, captain condent came up alongside and suddenly fired a broadside and a volley of small arms into the man-of-war, and a smart engagement followed, in which the pirates were worsted, and were lucky to escape. sailing away round the cape of good hope, condent arrived at the pirate stronghold at the island of johanna, where he took on board some of captain halsey's crew, and, reinforced by these skilled masters in the craft of piracy, took several rich east indiamen off the malabar coast. calling in at the isle of st. mary, one of the mascerenas group, he met with another portuguese ship of seventy guns, which he was fortunate enough to make a prize of. in this ship they found amongst the passengers the viceroy of goa. carrying this rich prize to zanzibar, they plundered her of a large amount of money. having now gathered a vast fortune, they thought it time to give up piracy, so they returned to the island of st. mary, where they made a share of their plunder, and the company broke up, many of them settling down amongst the natives. captain condent and some others sent from here a petition to the governor of mauritius asking for a pardon, and received answer that he would take them into his protection if they would destroy their ships. having done this, they sailed to mauritius, where they settled down, and captain condent married the governor's sister-in-law. a few years later the captain and his wife left the island and sailed to france, settling at st. malo, where condent drove a considerable trade as a merchant. cook, captain edward, or edmund. was on the pacific coast with captains sharp and sawkins, . being unable to keep order amongst his unruly crew, he resigned his ship and command to captain john cox, a new englander. he commanded a barque in the successful sacking of porto bello in the same year in company with sharp, coxon, and others. on land engagements his flag was a red one striped with yellow, on which was a device of a hand and sword. cook, george, _alias_ ramedam. an english renegade amongst the barbary pirates of algiers. was gunner's mate when captured in the _exchange_ in . brought to plymouth and hanged. cook, william. servant to captain edmund cook, and was found, on being searched, to have on him a paper with the names of all his fellow pirates written on it, and was suspected of having prepared it to give to some of the spanish prisoners. for this, captain walters put him in irons on january th, . he died on board ship on monday, february th, , off the coast of chile. cooke, captain john. this buccaneer was born in the island of st. christopher. "a brisk, bold man," he was promoted to the rank of quartermaster by captain yankey. on taking a spanish ship, cooke claimed the command of her, which he was entitled to, and would have gone in her with an english crew had not the french members of the crew, through jealousy, sacked the ship and marooned the englishmen on the island of avache. cooke and his men were rescued by another french buccaneer, captain tristram, and taken to the island of dominica. here the english managed to get away with the ship, leaving tristram and his frenchmen behind on land. cooke, now with a ship of his own, took two french ships loaded with wine. with this valuable cargo he steered northward, and reached virginia in april, . he had no difficulty in selling his wine for a good price to the new englanders, and with the profits prepared for a long voyage in his ship, the _revenge_. he took on board with him several famous buccaneers, including dampier and cowley, the latter as sailing master. they first sailed to sierra leone, then round the horn to the island of juan fernandez. here cooke was taken ill. his next stop was at the galapagos islands. eventually cooke died a mile or two off the coast of cape blanco in mexico. his body was rowed ashore to be buried, accompanied by an armed guard of twelve seamen. while his grave was being dug three spanish indians came up, and asked so many questions as to rouse the suspicions of the pirates, who seized them as spies, but one escaping, he raised the whole countryside. cooper, captain. commanded a pirate sloop, the _night rambler_. on november th, , he took the _perry_ galley (captain king, commander), three days out from barbadoes, and the following day a french sloop, and carried both prizes to a small island called aruba, near curaçao, where they plundered them and divided the spoil amongst the crew. the crews of the two prizes were kept on the island by cooper for seventeen days, and would have starved if the pirate's doctor had not taken compassion on them and procured them food. upton, boatswain in the _perry_, joined the pirates, and was afterwards tried and hanged in england. cooper, captain. on october th, , he brought into port royal, jamaica, two spanish prizes, one the _maria of seville_, a royal azogue carrying , quintals of quicksilver for the king of spain's mines in mexico, besides oil, wine, and olives. also a number of prisoners were taken, including several friars on their way to campeachy and vera cruz. the buccaneers always rejoiced at capturing a priest or a friar, and these holy men generally experienced very rough treatment at the hands of the pirates. cooper's ship was a frigate of ten guns, and a crew of eighty men. corbet, captain. sailed with captain heidon from bantry bay in the _john of sandwich_ in to search for a good prize in which he might go a-pirating on his own account. the ship was wrecked on the island of alderney, and all the crew arrested. corbett and several others escaped in a small boat. cornelius, captain. a contemporary of howard burgess north and other madagascar pirates. de cossey, stephen james. with three other pirates was tried and convicted in june, , before the vice-admiralty court at charleston. the president of the court was judge trot, a terror to all pirates, as he never failed to hang a guilty one. de cossey and the other prisoners were found guilty of piratically taking the vessels _turtle dove_, _penelope_, and the _virgin queen_. coward, william. in november, , with three men and a boy he rowed out to the ketch _elinor_ (william shortrigs, master), lying at anchor in boston harbour, and seized the vessel and took her to cape cod. the crew of the ketch could make no resistance as they were all down with the smallpox. the pirates were caught and locked up in the new stone gaol in boston. hanged on january th, . cowley, captain c. m.a. cantab. a man of high intelligence and an able navigator. in the year he sailed from achamach or cape charles in virginia for dominica as sailing master of a privateer, the _revenge_ (eight guns and fifty-two men), in company with dampier and captain john cooke. as soon as they were away from the land, they turned buccaneers or pirates, and sailed to sierra leone in west africa. thence to the coast of brazil, round the horn, where cowley mentions that owing to the intense cold weather the crew were able, each man, to drink three quarts of burnt brandy a day without becoming drunk. on february th the buccaneers were abreast of cape horn, and in his diary cowley writes: "we were choosing valentines and discoursing on the intrigues of woman, when there arose a prodigious storm," which lasted till the end of the month, driving them farther south than any ship had ever been before; "so that we concluded the discoursing of women at sea was very unlucky and occasioned the storm." cowley, who was addicted to giving new names to islands, not only named one pepys island, but when he arrived at the galapagos islands, he rechristened them most thoroughly, naming one king charles island, while others he named after the dukes of york, norfolk, and albemarle, and sir john narborough. feeling, no doubt, that he had done enough to honour the great, and perhaps to have insured himself against any future trouble with the authorities when he returned home, he named one small island "cowley's enchanted isle." the earl of alington, lord culpepper, lord wenman, all had islands in this group christened with their names and titles. in september, , cowley, now in the _nicholas_, separated from davis, and sailed from ampalla for san francisco, and then started west to cross the pacific ocean. on march th, , at seven o'clock in the morning, after a voyage of , miles, land was at last seen, which proved to be the island of guan. the spanish governor was most friendly to the visitors, and when complaint was made to him that the buccaneers had killed some of his indian subjects he "gave us a toleration to kill them all if we would." presents were exchanged, cowley giving the governor a valuable diamond ring, one, no doubt, taken off the hand of some other loyal subject of the king of spain. here the pirates committed several atrocious cruelties on the indians, who wished to be friends with the foreigners. in april they arrived at canton to refit, and while there, thirteen tartar ships arrived laden with chinese merchandise, chiefly valuable silks. cowley wanted to attack and plunder them, but his crew refused to do so, saying "they came for gold and silver, and not to be made pedlars, to carry packs on their backs," to cowley's disgust, for he complains, "had reason but ruled them, we might all have made our fortunes and have done no christian prince nor their subjects any harm at all." thence they sailed to borneo, the animals and birds of which island cowley describes. sailing next to timor, the crew mutinied, and cowley and eighteen others bought a boat and sailed in her to java, some leagues. here they heard of the death of king charles ii., which caused cowley to get out his map of the galapagos islands, and to change the name of duke of york island to king james island. at batavia cowley procured a passage in a dutch ship to cape town. in june, , he sailed for holland after much health drinking and salutes of guns, arriving in that country in september, and reaching london, "through the infinite mercy of god," on october th, . cox, captain john. buccaneer. born in new england, and considered by some of his fellow buccaneers "to have forced kindred upon captain sharp"--the leader of the fleet--"out of old acquaintance, only to advance himself." thus he was made vice-admiral to captain sharp, in place of captain cook, whose crew had mutinied and refused to sail any longer under his command. cox began his captaincy by getting lost, but after a fortnight rejoined the fleet off the island of plate, on the coast of peru, "to the great joy of us all." this island received its name from the fact that sir francis drake had here made a division of his spoils, distributing to each man of his company sixteen bowlfuls of doubloons and pieces of eight. the buccaneers rechristened it drake's island. cox took part in the attack on the town of hilo in october, , sacked the town and burnt down the large sugar factory outside. he led a mutiny against his relative and benefactor, captain sharp, on new year's day, , being the "main promoter of their design" to turn him out. sharp afterwards described his old friend as a "true-hearted dissembling new-england man," who he had promoted captain "merely for old acquaintance-sake." coxon, captain john. buccaneer. one of the most famous of the "brethren of the coast." in the spring of , in company of other english buccaneers, he surprised and plundered the town of santa marta on the spanish main, carrying away the governor and the bishop to jamaica. in coxon, with sharp and others, was fitting out an expedition in jamaica to make a raid in the gulf of honduras, which proved very successful, as they brought back chests of indigo, besides cocoa, cochineal, tortoiseshell, money, and plate. coxon was soon out again upon a much bolder design, for in december, , he met sharp, essex, allinson, row, and other buccaneer chiefs at point morant, and in january set sail for porto bello. landing some twenty leagues from the town, they marched for four days, arriving in sight of the town on february th, "many of them being weak, being three days without any food, and their feet cut with the rocks for want of shoes." they quickly took and plundered the town, hurrying off with their spoils before the arrival of strong spanish reinforcements. the share of each man in this enterprise came to one hundred pieces of eight. a warrant was issued by lord carlisle, the governor of jamaica, for the apprehension of coxon for plundering porto bello, and another was issued soon after by morgan, when acting as governor, but nothing seems to have resulted from these. sailing north to boca del toro, they careened their ships, and were joined by sawkins and harris. from this place the buccaneers began, in april, , to land and cross the isthmus of darien, taking the town of santa maria on the way. quarrels took place between coxon, who was, no doubt, a hot-tempered man, and harris, which led to blows. coxon was also jealous of the popular young captain sawkins, and refused to go further unless he was allowed to lead one of the companies. after sacking the town of santa maria, the adventurers proceeded in canoes down the river to the pacific. seizing two small vessels they found there, and accompanied by a flotilla of canoes, they steered for panama, and, with the utmost daring, attacked, and eventually took, the spanish fleet of men-of-war--one of the most remarkable achievements in the history of the buccaneers. coxon now quarrelled again with his brother leaders, and began a march back across the isthmus; his party of seventy malcontents including dampier and wafer, who each published accounts of their journey. by coxon seems to have so ingratiated himself with the jamaican authorities as to be sent in quest of a troublesome french pirate, jean hamlin, who was playing havoc with the english shipping in his vessel, _la trompeuse_. later in the same year coxon procured letters of marque from robert clarke, the governor of new providence island, himself nothing better than a pirate, to go cruising as a "privateer." coxon was continually being arrested and tried for piracy, but each time he managed to escape the gallows. we do not know the name of the ship coxon commanded at this date, but it was a vessel of eighty tons, armed with eight guns, and carrying a crew of ninety-seven men. coyle, captain richard. born at exeter in devonshire. an honest seafaring man until, when sailing as mate with captain benjamin hartley, they arrived at ancona with a cargo of pilchards. here the captain took on board a new carpenter, called richardson, who soon became a close friend of the mate's. these two brought about a mutiny, attacked the captain, and threw him, still alive, over the side to drown. coyle was elected captain, and they sailed as pirates, in which capacity they were a disgrace to an ancient calling. after a visit to minorca, which ended with ignominy, they sailed to tunis, where coyle told such a plausible yarn as to deceive the governor into believing that he had been the master of a vessel lost in a storm off the coast of sardinia. the pirates were supplied with money by the british consul in tunis; but coyle, while in his cups, talked too freely, so that the true story of his doings got to the consul's ears, who had him arrested and sent to london to be lodged in the marshalsea prison. tried at the old bailey, he was sentenced to death, and was hanged at execution dock on january th, . crackers, captain. a retired pirate who settled at sierra leone, and was living there in . he had been famous in his day, having robbed and plundered many a ship. he owned the best house in the settlement, and was distinguished by having three cannons placed before his door, which he was accustomed to fire salutes from whenever a pirate ship arrived or left the port. he was the soul of hospitality and good fellowship, and kept open-house for all pirates, buccaneers, and privateersmen. criss, captain john, _alias_ "jack the bachelor." a native of lorne in the north of ireland. his father was a fisherman, and little jack used to go out with him, and then help him sell his fish at londonderry. the lad grew up into a bold and handsome young fellow, "and many a girl cocked cap at him and he had great success amongst the ladies, and intrigued with every woman that gave him any encouragement." tiring of the monotony and low profits of a fisherman's calling, jack turned smuggler, carrying cargoes of contraband goods from guernsey to ireland. making a tidy sum at this, he bought himself a french galliot, and sailing from cork, he began to take vessels off the coast of france, selling them at cherbourg. the young pirate took no risks of information leaking out, for he drowned all his prisoners. cruising in the mediterranean, criss met with his usual success, and, not content with taking ships, he plundered the seaport of amalfi on the coast of calabria. calling at naples, criss put up at the ferdinand hotel, where one morning he was found dead in his bed. it was discovered afterwards that, in spite of his nickname, he was married to three wives. cullen, andrew. of cork in ireland. brother of pierce cullen. one of the crew of captain roche's ship. after the crew had mutinied and turned pirate he posed as the supercargo. cullen, pierce. of cork in ireland. one of captain philip roche's gang. culliford, captain, of the _mocha_. a madagascar pirate. little is known of him except that one day in the streets of london he recognized and denounced another pirate called burgess. cumberland, george, third earl of, - . m.a., trinity college, cambridge. after taking his degree at cambridge he migrated to oxford for the purpose of studying geography. so many books have been written about this picturesque and daring adventurer that it is not necessary to do more than mention his name here, as being perhaps the finest example of a buccaneer that ever sacked a spanish town. he led twelve voyages to the spanish main, fitting them out at his own expense, and encountering the same dangers and hardships as his meanest seaman. he married in at the age of nineteen, and sailed on his first voyage in . cumberland was greatly esteemed by queen elizabeth, and always wore in his hat a glove which she had given him. there is sufficient evidence to show that the earl was not prompted to spend his life and fortune on buccaneering voyages merely by greed of plunder, but was chiefly inspired by intense love of his country, loyalty to his queen, and bitter hatred of the spaniards. cunningham, captain william. had his headquarters at new providence island, in the bahamas. refused the royal offer of pardon to the pirates in , and was later caught and hanged. cunningham, patrick. found guilty at newport in , but reprieved. curtice, joseph. one of captain teach's crew in the _queen ann's revenge_. killed on november nd, , off the coast of north carolina. dampier, captain william. buccaneer, explorer, and naturalist. born at east coker in the year . brought up at first to be a shopkeeper, a life he detested, he was in apprenticed to a ship belonging to weymouth, and his first voyage was to france. in the same year he sailed to newfoundland, but finding the bitter cold unbearable, he returned to england. his next voyage, which he called "a warm one," was to the east indies, in the _john and martha_, and suited him better. many books have been written recounting the voyages of dampier, but none of these are better reading than his own narrative, published by james and john knapton in london. this popular book ran into many editions, the best being the fourth, published in , in four volumes. these volumes are profusely illustrated by maps and rough charts, and also with crude cuts, which are intended to portray the more interesting and strange animals, birds, fishes, and insects met with in his voyages round the globe. in dampier enlisted as a seaman in the _royal prince_, commanded by the famous sir edward spragge, and fought in the dutch war. a year later he sailed to jamaica in the _content_, to take up a post as manager of a plantation belonging to a colonel hellier. his restless spirit soon revolted against this humdrum life on a plantation, and dampier again went to sea, sailing in a small trading vessel amongst the islands. dampier's first step towards buccaneering was taken when he shipped himself on a small ketch which was sailing from port royal to load logwood at the bay of campeachy. this was an illegal business, as the spanish government claimed the ownership of all that coast, and did their best to prevent the trade. dampier found some englishmen engaged in cutting the wood, which they exchanged for rum. most of these men were buccaneers or privateers, who made a living in this way when out of a job afloat. when a ship came into the coast, these men would think nothing of coming aboard and spending thirty and forty pounds on rum and punch at a single drinking bout. dampier returned afterwards to take up logwood cutting himself, but met with little success, and went off to beef island. he had by this time begun to take down notes of all that appeared to him of interest, particularly objects of natural history. for example, he described, in his own quaint style, an animal he found in this island. "the squash is a four-footed beast, bigger than a cat. its head is much like a foxes, with short ears and a long nose. it has pretty short legs and sharp claws, by which it will run up trees like a cat. the flesh is good, sweet, wholesome meat. we commonly skin and roast it; and then we call it pig; and i think it eats as well. it feeds on nothing but good fruit; therefore we find them most among the sapadillo-trees. this creature never rambles very far, and being taken young, will become as tame as a dog, and be as roguish as a monkey." dampier's first act of actual piracy was when he joined in an attack on the spanish fort of alvarado, but although the fort was taken, the townspeople had time to escape with all their valuables before the pirates could reach them. returning to england in , he did not remain long at home, for in the beginning of he sailed for jamaica in a vessel named the _loyal merchant_. shortly after reaching the west indies, he chanced to meet with several well-known buccaneers, including captains coxon, sawkins, and sharp. joining with these, he sailed on march th, , for the province of darien, "to pillage and plunder these parts." dampier says strangely little about his adventures for the next two years, but a full description of them is given by ringrose in his "dangerous voyage and bold adventures of captain sharp and others in the south sea," published as an addition to the "history of the buccaneers of america" in . this narrative tells how the buccaneers crossed the isthmus and attacked and defeated the spanish fleet off panama city. after the death of their leader, sawkins, the party split up, and dampier followed captain sharp on his "dangerous and bold voyage" in may, . in april, , after various adventures up and down the coast of peru and chile, further quarrels arose amongst the buccaneers, and a party of malcontents, of which number dampier was one, went off on their own account in a launch and two canoes from the island of plate, made famous by drake, and landed on the mainland near cape san lorenzo. the march across the isthmus of darien has been amusingly recounted by the surgeon of the party, lionel wafer, in his book entitled "a new voyage and description of the isthmus of america," published in london in . [illustration: a page from the log-book of captain dampier. to face p. .] on reaching the atlantic, dampier found some buccaneer ships and joined them, arriving at virginia in july, . in this country he resided for a year, but tells little about it beyond hinting that great troubles befell him. in april, , he joined a privateer vessel, the _revenge_, but directly she was out of sight of land the crew turned pirates, which had been their intention all along. two good narratives have been written of this voyage, one by dampier, and the other by cowley, the sailing-master. this venture ended in the famous circumnavigation of the world, and dampier described every object of interest he met with, including the country and natives of the north coast of australia, which had never been visited before by europeans. dampier must have found it very difficult to keep his journal so carefully and regularly, particularly in his early voyages, when he was merely a seaman before the mast or a petty officer. he tells us that he carried about with him a long piece of hollow bamboo, in which he placed his manuscript for safe keeping, waxing the ends to keep out the sea water. after almost endless adventures and hardships, he arrived back in england in september, , after a voyage of eight years, and an absence from england of twelve, without a penny piece in his pocket, nor any other property except his unfortunate friend prince jeoly, whom he sold on his arrival in the thames, to supply his own immediate wants. dampier's next voyage was in the year , when he was appointed to command h.m.s. _roebuck_, of twelve guns and a crew of fifty men and boys, and victualled for twenty months' cruise. the object of this voyage was to explore and map the new continent to the south of the east indies which dampier had discovered on his previous voyage. had he in this next voyage taken the westward course, as he originally intended, and sailed to australia round the horn, it is possible that dampier would have made many of the discoveries for which james cook afterwards became so famous, and by striking the east coast of australia would very likely have antedated the civilisation of that continent by fifty years. but he was persuaded, partly by his timid crew, and perhaps in some measure by his own dislike of cold temperatures, to sail by the eastward route and to double the cape of good hope. the story of this voyage is given by dampier in his book, published in , "a voyage to new holland, etc., in the year ." after spending some unprofitable weeks on the north coast of australia, failing to find water or to make friends with the aboriginals, scurvy broke out amongst his somewhat mutinous crew, and he sailed to new guinea, the coast of which he saw on new year's day, . by this time the _roebuck_ was falling to pieces, her wood rotten, her hull covered with barnacles. eventually, using the pumps day and night, they arrived, on february st, , at ascension island, where the old ship sank at her anchors. getting ashore with their belongings, they waited on this desolate island until april rd, when four ships arrived, three of them english men-of-war. i was told, only the other day, by a friend who lives in the island of st. helena, and whose duties take him at least once each year to ascension island, that a story still survives amongst the inhabitants of these islands that there is hidden somewhere in the sandhills a treasure, which dampier is believed to have put there for safe keeping, but for some reason never removed. but poor dampier never came by a treasure in this or any other of his voyages, and though the legend is a pleasant one, it is a legend and nothing more. dampier went on board one of the men-of-war, the _anglesea_, with thirty-five of his crew. taken to barbadoes, he there procured a berth in another vessel, the _canterbury_, in which he sailed to england. dampier had now made so great a name for himself by his two voyages round the globe that he was granted a commission by prince george of denmark to sail as a privateer in the _st. george_, to prey on french and spanish ships, the terms being: "no purchase, no pay." sailing as his consort was the _cinque ports_, whose master was alexander selkirk, the original of robinson crusoe. this voyage, fully recounted in dampier's book, is a long tale of adventure, hardship, and disaster, and the explorer eventually returned to england a beggar. however, his travels made a great stir, and he was allowed to kiss the queen's hand and to have the honour of relating his adventures to her. dampier's last voyage was in the capacity of pilot or navigating officer to captain woodes rogers in the _duke_, which sailed with another bristol privateer, the _duchess_, in . the interesting narrative of this successful voyage is told by rogers in his book, "a cruising voyage round the world," etc., published in . another account was written by the captain of the _duchess_, edward cooke, and published in the same year. this last voyage round the world ended at erith on october th, , and was the only one in which dampier returned with any profit other than to his reputation as an explorer and navigator. dampier was now fifty-nine years of age, and apparently never went to sea again. in fact, he henceforth disappears from the stage altogether, and is supposed to have died in colman street in london, in the year . of dampier's early life in england little is known, except that he owned, at one time, a small estate in somersetshire, and that in he married "a young woman out of the family of the duchess of grafton." there is an interesting picture of dampier in the national portrait gallery, painted by t. murray, and i take this opportunity to thank the directors for their kind permission to reproduce this portrait. one other book dampier wrote, called a "discourse of winds," an interesting work, and one which added to the author's reputation as a hydrographer. there is little doubt that defoe was inspired by the experiences and writings of dampier, not only in his greatest work, "robinson crusoe," but also in "captain singleton," "colonel jack," "a new voyage round the world," and many of the maritime incidents in "roxana" and "moll flanders." dan, joseph. one of avery's crew. turned king's witness at his trial in , and was not hanged. daniel, captain. a french filibuster. the name of this bloodthirsty pirate will go down to fame as well as notoriety by his habit of combining piracy with strict church discipline. harling recounts an example of this as follows, the original account of the affair being written by a priest, m. labat, who seems to have had rather a weak spot in his heart for the buccaneer fraternity: "captain daniel, in need of provisions, anchored one night off one of the 'saintes,' small islands near dominica, and landing without opposition, took possession of the house of the curé and of some other inhabitants of the neighbourhood. he carried the curé and his people on board his ship without offering them the least violence, and told them that he merely wished to buy some wine, brandy and fowls. while these were being gathered, daniel requested the curé to celebrate mass, which the poor priest dared not refuse. so the necessary sacred vessels were sent for and an altar improvised on the deck for the service, which they chanted to the best of their ability. as at martinique, the mass was begun by a discharge of artillery, and after the exaudiat and prayer for the king, was closed by a loud 'vive la roi!' from the throats of the buccaneers. a single incident, however, somewhat disturbed the devotions. one of the buccaneers, remaining in an indecent attitude during the elevation, was rebuked by the captain, and instead of heeding the correction, replied with an impertinence and a fearful oath. quick as a flash daniel whipped out his pistol and shot the buccaneer through the head, adjuring god that he would do as much to the first who failed in his respect to the holy sacrifice. the shot was fired close by the priest, who, as we can readily imagine, was considerably agitated. 'do not be troubled, my father,' said daniel; 'he is a rascal lacking in his duty and i have punished him to teach him better.'" a very efficacious means, remarks labat, of preventing his falling into another like mistake. after the mass the body of the dead man was thrown into the sea, and the curé was recompensed for his pains by some goods out of their stock and the present of a negro slave. daniel, stephen. one of captain teach's crew. hanged for piracy in virginia in . dansker, captain. a dutch pirate who cruised in the mediterranean in the sixteenth century, using the north african coast as his base. he joined the moors and turned mohammedan. in admiral sir edward spragge was with a fleet at bougie bay, near algiers, where, after a sharp fight, he burnt and destroyed a big fleet of the moorish pirates, amongst those killed being the renegade dansker. darby, john. a marblehead fisherman, one of the crew of the ketch _mary_, of salem, captured by captain pound. he joined the pirates, and was killed at tarpaulin cove. davis, captain edward. buccaneer and pirate. flourished from - . according to esquemiling, who knew davis personally, his name was john, but some authorities call him edward, the name he is given in the "dictionary of national biography." in davis was quartermaster to captain cook when he took the ship of captain tristian, a french buccaneer, of petit guave in the west indies. sailed north to cruise off the coast of virginia. from there he sailed across the atlantic to west africa, and at sierra leone came upon a danish ship of thirty-six guns, which he attacked and took. the pirates shifted their crew into this ship, christening her the _bachelor's delight_, and sailed for juan fernandez in the south pacific, arriving there in march, . here they met with captain brown, in the _nicholas_, and together sailed to the galapagos islands. about this time captain cook died, and davis was elected captain in his place. cruising along the coasts of chile and peru, they sacked towns and captured spanish ships. on november rd davis landed, and burnt the town of paita. their principal plan was to waylay the spanish fleet on its voyage to panama. this fleet arrived off the bay of panama on may th, , but the buccaneers were beaten and were lucky to escape with their lives. at the gulf of ampalla, davis had to put his sick on shore, as spotted fever raged amongst the crew. davis then cruised for a while with the buccaneer knight, sacking several towns. deciding to return to the west indies with their plunder, several of the crew, who had lost all their share by gambling, were left, at their own request, on the island of juan fernandez. davis then sailed round the horn, arriving safely at jamaica with a booty of more than , pieces of eight, besides quantities of plate and jewels. at port royal, after he had accepted the offer of pardon of king james ii., davis sailed to virginia and settled down at point comfort. we hear no more of him for the next fourteen years, until july th, , when he sailed from jamaica in the _blessing_ (captain brown; twenty guns, seventy-nine men), to attack the town of tolu on the spanish main, which was plundered and burnt. davis next sailed to the samballoes, and, guided by the indians, who were friendly to the buccaneers, but hated the spaniards, they attacked the gold-mines, where, in spite of most cruel tortures, they got but little gold. the crew next attacked porto bello, but found little worth stealing in that much harassed town. davis is chiefly remarkable for having commanded his gang of ruffians in the pacific for nearly four years. to do this he must have been a man of extraordinary personality and bravery, for no other buccaneer or pirate captain ever remained in uninterrupted power for so long a while, with the exception of captain bartholomew roberts. davis, captain howel. this welsh pirate was born at milford in monmouthshire. he went to sea as a boy, and eventually sailed as chief mate in the _cadogan_ snow, of bristol, to the guinea coast. his ship was taken off sierra leone by the pirate england, and the captain murdered. davis turned pirate, and was given command of this old vessel, the _cadogan_, in which to go "on the account." but the crew refused to turn pirate, and sailed the ship to barbadoes, and there handed davis over to the governor, who imprisoned him for three months and then liberated him. as no one on the island would offer him employment, davis went to new providence island, the stronghold of the west india pirates. arrived there, he found that captain woodes rogers had only lately come from england with an offer of a royal pardon, which most of the pirates had availed themselves of. davis got employment under the governor, on board the sloop, the _buck_, to trade goods with the french and spanish settlements. the crew was composed of the very recently reformed pirates, and no sooner was the sloop out of sight of land than they mutinied and seized the vessel, davis being voted captain, on which occasion, over a bowl of punch in the great cabin, the new captain made an eloquent speech, finishing by declaring war against the whole world. davis proved himself an enterprising and successful pirate chief, but preferred, whenever possible, to use strategy and cunning rather than force to gain his ends. his first prize was a big french ship, which, although davis had only a small sloop and a crew of but thirty-five men, he managed to take by a bold and clever trick. after taking a few more ships in the west indies, davies sailed across the atlantic to the island of st. nicholas in the cape verde islands. here he and his crew were a great social success, spending weeks on shore as the guests of the governor and chief inhabitants. when davis reluctantly left this delightful spot, five of his crew were missing, "being so charmed with the luxuries of the place, and the conversation of some women, that they stayed behind." davis now went cruising and took a number of vessels, and arrived eventually at st. jago. the portuguese governor of this island did not take at all kindly to his bold visitor, and was blunt enough to say he suspected davis of being a pirate. this suspicion his crew took exception to, and they decided they could not let such an insult pass, so that very night they made a sudden attack on the fort, taking and plundering it. davis sailed away next morning to the coast and anchored off the castle of gambia, which was strongly held for the african company by the governor and a garrison of english soldiers. davis, nothing daunted, proposed to his merry men a bold and ingenious stratagem by which they could take the castle, and, the crew agreeing, it was carried out with so much success that they soon had the castle, governor, and soldiers in their possession, as well as a rich spoil of bars of gold; and all these without a solitary casualty on either side. after this brilliant coup, many of the soldiers joined the pirates. the pirates were attacked shortly afterwards by a french ship commanded by captain la bouse, but on both ships hoisting their colours, the jolly roger, they understood each other and fraternized, and then sailed together to sierra leone, where they attacked a tall ship they found lying there at anchor. this ship also proved to be a pirate, commanded by one captain cocklyn, so the three joined forces and assaulted the fort, which, after a sharp bombardment, surrendered. davis was then elected commander of the pirate fleet, but one night, when entertaining the other captains in his cabin, all having drunk freely of punch, they started to quarrel, and blows were threatened, when davis, with true celtic eloquence, hiccupped out the following speech: "hearke ye, you cocklyn and la bouse. i find by strengthening you i have put a rod into your hands to whip myself, but i'm still able to deal with you both; but since we met in love, let us part in love, for i find that three of a trade can never agree." alone once more, davis had prodigious success, taking prize after prize, amongst others the _princess_, the second mate in which was one roberts, soon to become a most famous pirate. off anamaboe he took a very rich prize, a hollander ship, on board of which was the governor of accra and his retinue, as well as £ , sterling and rich merchandise. arriving next at the portuguese island of princes, davis posed as an english man-of-war in search of pirates, and was most warmly welcomed by the governor, who received him in person with a guard of honour and entertained him most hospitably. davis heard that the governor and the chief persons of the island had sent their wives to a village a few miles away, so the pirate and a few chosen spirits decided to pay a surprise visit on these ladies. however, the ladies, on perceiving their gallant callers, shrieked and ran into the woods and, in fact, made such a hullabaloo that the english don juans were glad to slink away, and "the thing made some noise, but not being known was passed over." davis, ever a cunning rogue, now formed a pretty scheme to take the governor and chief inhabitants prisoners and to hold them for a big ransom. this plan was spoilt by a portuguese slave swimming to shore and telling the governor all about it, and worse, telling him about the little affair of davis and his visit to the ladies in the wood. the governor now laid his plans, and with such success that davis walked unsuspecting into the trap, and was "shot in the bowels," but it is some consolation to know that he "dyed like a game cock," as he shot two of the portuguese with his pistols as he fell. thus died a man noted during his lifetime by his contemporaries for his "affability and good nature," which only goes to show how one's point of view is apt to be influenced by circumstances. davis, gabriel. tried for piracy at the star tavern in boston, massachusetts, in . davis, william. a welshman. arrived at sierra leone in honest employ in the _ann_ galley. quarrelling with the mate, whom he beat, he deserted his ship and went to live ashore with the negroes, one of whom he married, with whom he settled down. one evening, the weather being hot, and davis being very thirsty, he sold his bride for some punch. his wife's relations, being indignant, seized davis, who told them, being, perhaps, still a little under the influence of the punch, that he did not care if they took his head off. but his "in-laws" knew a more profitable way of being revenged than that, and sold him to seignior joffee, a christian black. soon afterwards captain roberts, in the _royal fortune_, arrived in the bay, and davis ran away and joined the pirates. hanged at the age of . dawes. corsair. an english renegade. when roberts was cast away on june th, , in nio, a small island in the grecian archipelago, in his majesty's hired ship the _arcana_ galley, most of the crew escaped in a french prize they had taken. roberts remained behind, hoping to save some of his valuables, which were in the _arcana_. but on june th a crusal, or corsair, appeared in the harbour, which roberts's five companions went on board of. various designs were made by the corsair captain to induce roberts to come aboard. eventually an englishman named dawes (a native of saltash in cornwall) was sent ashore. he had served for eight years in the corsair until taken out of her a short time previously by the _arcana_. roberts writes, in his frank style: "but dawes, like a dog returning to his vomit, went on board again." eventually a party of the corsair's landed under the leadership of dawes, and captured roberts and carried him on board the pirate craft, where for many years he worked as a slave. dawes, robert. one of the mutineers on the brig _vineyard_ in . it was the full confession of dawes that brought about the conviction and execution of the ringleader, charles gibbs. dawson, joseph. one of captain avery's crew of the _charles the second_. tried at the old bailey in for piracy, and convicted. he pleaded to be spared and to be sent to servitude in india, but was hanged at execution dock. deal, captain robert. mate to captain vane in . he was very active off the coast of carolina and new england, taking many prizes. in november, , when cruising between cape meise and cape nicholas, on the lookout for ships, he met with and fired on a vessel that appeared to be a merchantman, at the same time running up the jolly roger. the apparently peaceful merchantman replied with a broadside, and proved to be a french man-of-war. a quarrel took place amongst the pirates, vane and some of the crew, including deal, being for running away for safety, while the rest, headed by rackam, were in favour of fighting it out. vane insisted on their escaping, which they did, but next day he, deal, and some others were turned out of the ship and sent away on their own in a small sloop. deal was put in command of this sloop, but was soon afterwards captured by an english man-of-war and brought to jamaica, where he was tried, convicted, and hanged. deane, captain john. buccaneer. commanded the _st. david_. he was accused by the governor of jamaica in of having held up a ship called the _john adventure_ and of taking out of her several pipes of wine and a cable worth £ , and of forcibly carrying the vessel to jamaica. deane was also reported for wearing dutch, french, and spanish colours without commission, and was tried and condemned to suffer death as a pirate. owing to various legal, or illegal, quibbles, deane was reprieved. dedran, le capitaine. a french filibuster of french domingo. commanded, in , the _chasseur_ ( men, guns). deigle, richard. an elizabethan pirate. wrecked in the _john of sandwich_ at alderney in , when he was arrested, but escaped in a small boat. delander, captain. buccaneer. commanded a _chatas_, or small coasting craft. he was sent by morgan ahead of the main body when, in january, , he marched from san lorenzo on his great assault on panama. delizuff. barbary corsair. in , while barbarossa was sailing from algiers to constantinople, he was joined by delizuff with a fleet of eighteen pirate vessels. delizuff was killed in an affair at the island of biba, and, the crews of the two corsairs quarrelling, the ships of delizuff stole away one dark night. delve, jonathan. one of captain lowther's crew in the _happy delivery_. was hanged at st. kitts in . dempster, captain. buccaneer. in he was in command of several vessels and men, blockading havana. dennis, henry. of bideford in devonshire. at first a pirate with captain davis, he afterwards joined captain roberts's crew. was tried for piracy at cape coast castle in , and found guilty, but for some reason was reprieved and sold for seven years to serve the royal african company on their plantations. derdrake, captain john, _alias_ jack of the baltic. a danish pirate, of copenhagen. when a carpenter in the king's dockyard at copenhagen he was dismissed for drunkenness. after making a few voyages to london as a ship's carpenter, his parents died and left their son a fortune of , rix-dollars. with this money derdrake built himself a fast sailing brig sheathed with copper, and for a while traded in wood between norway and london. becoming impatient of the smallness of the profits in this trade, he offered his services and ship to peter the great. this monarch, as was his custom, examined the ship in person, and, approving of her, bought her, and at the same time appointed derdrake to be a master shipwright in the royal dockyards on the neva. the carpenter, always a man of violent temper, one day quarrelled with one of his superiors, seized an axe, and slew him. his ship then happening to be in the roads, derdrake hurried on board her and made sail, and went off with the cargo, which he sold in london. arming his vessel with twelve guns, he sailed for norway, but on the way he was attacked by a big russian man-of-war. the russian was defeated and surrendered, and derdrake went into her in place of his own smaller ship, giving his new craft the ominous name of the _sudden death_. with a fine, well-armed ship and a crew of seventy desperadoes, one-half english, and the rest norwegian and danish, he now definitely turned pirate. lying in wait for english and russian ships carrying goods to peter the great, the pirates took many valuable prizes, with cargoes consisting of fittings for ships, arms, and warm woollen clothing. for these he found a ready market in sweden, where no questions were asked and "cash on delivery" was the rule. derdrake drowned all his prisoners, and was one of the very few pirates, other than those found in works of fiction, who forced his victims to "walk the plank." not long afterwards the pirates met with and fought an armed swedish vessel, which was defeated, but the captain and crew escaped in the long-boat, and, getting to shore, spread the tidings of the pirates' doings. on hearing the news, the governor of st. petersburg, general shevelling, sent out two ships to search for and take the pirates, offering a reward of , rix-dollars for derdrake's head. the pirates had just heard of this when they happened to take a russian vessel bound for cronstadt, on board of which was a passenger, a sister of the very general shevelling. this poor lady, after being reproached by the pirates for her brother's doings, was stabbed to death in the back by derdrake. at this time there was aboard the _sudden death_ a danish sailor, who, having been severely flogged for being drunk at sea, shammed sickness and pretended to have lost the use of his limbs. the captain was deceived, and sent the sailor, well supplied with money, to a country house at drontheim in sweden, to recover. no sooner had jack of the baltic left than the danish sailor set off post-haste for st. petersburg, where he saw the governor and told him of his sister's murder, and also that the pirates were to be found at strothing in sweden. two well-armed vessels were immediately despatched, which, finding the _sudden death_ at anchor, fought and sunk her, though unfortunately derdrake was on shore and so escaped; but the whole crew were hung up alive by hooks fixed in their ribs and sent to drift down the volga. derdrake, who had a large sum of money with him, bought an estate near stralsund, and lived there in luxury for fourteen years, until one day, a servant having robbed him of a sum of money, derdrake followed him to stockholm, where he was recognized by the captain of the swedish ship who had first given information against him, and the pirate was at once arrested, tried, and hanged. dew, captain george. of bermuda. he commanded a bermuda ship and sailed in company with captain tew, when they were caught in a storm off that island, and captain dew, having sprung his mast, was compelled to put back to the island for repairs. captain tew continued his journey to africa, but what became of captain dew is not known. diabolito. a central american pirate who became very famous in the early part of the last century. commanded the _catalina_ in off the coast of cuba. diego, or diego grillo. a mulatto of havana. after the general amnesty to pirates, given in , diego, thurston, and others continued to attack spanish ships and to carry their prizes to their lair at tortuga island. diego commanded a vessel carrying fifteen guns. he succeeded in defeating three armed ships in the bahama channel, which had been sent to take him, and he massacred all the spaniards of european birth that he found among the crews. he was caught in and hanged. dipper, henry. one of the english soldiers who deserted from the fort loyal, falmouth, maine, and joined captain pound, the pirate. killed in the fight at tarpaulin cove in . dole, francis. was one of hore's crew. lived with his wife, when not "on the account," at his house at charleston, near boston. the pirate gillam was found hiding there by the governor's search-party on the night of november th, . dole was committed to gaol at boston. dorothy, john. one of captain john quelch's crew. tried for piracy at boston in june, . dover, doctor thomas. born ; died . this many-sided character was educated at caius college, cambridge, where he took the degree of bachelor of medicine. many years afterwards, in , the royal college of physicians made him a licentiate. for many years dover practised as a physician at bristol, until the year , when he sailed from bristol as "second captain" to captain woodes rogers, with the _duke_ and the _duchess_, two privateer ships fitted out for a south sea cruise by some bristol merchants. dover had no knowledge whatever of navigation, but, having a considerable share in the adventure, he insisted on being given a command. sailing round the horn, the two ships arrived, on the night of february st, , off the island of juan fernandez, where they observed a light. next morning dover went ashore in a boat, to find and rescue the solitary inhabitant of the island, alexander selkirk, the original of robinson crusoe. sailing north, a spanish ship was taken and rechristened the _bachelor_, and dover was put in command of her. he sacked guayaquil in april, , many of the crew contracting plague from sleeping in a church where some bodies had recently been buried. dover undertook to treat the sick with most heroic measures, bleeding each sick man and drawing off ounces of blood. he also took the famous _acapulco_ ship, with a booty worth more than a million pounds sterling. dover returned to bristol in october, , with a prize of great value, after sailing round the world. giving up piracy, he settled in practice in london, seeing his patients daily at the jerusalem coffee-house in cecil street, strand. he wrote a book called "the ancient physician's legacy to his country," which ran into seven or eight editions, in which he strongly recommended the administration of large doses of quicksilver for almost every malady that man is subject to. this book won him the nickname of the "quicksilver doctor." he invented a diaphoretic powder containing ipecacuanha and opium, which is used to this day, and is still known as dover's powder. dover died at the age of , in the year , and should always be remembered for having invented dover's powders, commanded a company of marines, rescued alexander selkirk, written a most extraordinary medical book, and for having been a successful pirate captain. dowling, captain william. of new providence, bahamas. hanged for piracy in the early part of the eighteenth century. dragut. barbary corsair. started life as a pirate, and was eventually put in command of twelve large galleys by kheyr-ed-din. pillaged and burnt many towns on the italian coast, and destroyed ships without number. was taken prisoner by the younger doria, and condemned to row in the galleys for four years until ransomed for , ducats by kheyr-ed-din. appointed admiral of the ottoman fleet. ended a bloodthirsty but very successful career in by being killed at the siege of malta. drake, sir francis. born about . the life of the famous admiral is too well known to require more than a bare notice in these pages. although the spaniards called him "the pirate," he was more strictly a buccaneer in his early voyages, when he sailed with the sole object of spoiling the spaniards. his first command was the _judith_, in john hawkins's unfortunate expedition in . drake made several voyages from plymouth to the west indies and the spanish main. in he burnt porto bello, and a year later sacked vera cruz. he served with the english army in ireland under lord essex in and . in he sailed through the straits of magellan, plundered valparaiso, and also captured a great treasure ship from acapulco. sailing from america, he crossed the pacific ocean, passed through the indian archipelago, rounded the cape of good hope, and arrived at deptford in england in . at the conclusion of this voyage he was knighted by queen elizabeth, being the first englishman to sail round the world. drake's voyages after this were sailed under commission and letters of marque, and so lose any stigma of being buccaneering adventures. drake died at porto bello in the year . dromyowe, peter. a breton pirate. one of the crew of captain du laerquerac, who in took several english ships in the bristol channel. drummond, _alias_ teach, thatch, or blackbeard. dunbar, nicholas. pirate. one of the crew of the brigantine _charles_ (captain quelch). tried for piracy at boston in . dunkin, george. of glasgow. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged at charleston, south carolina, in november, . buried in the marsh below low-water mark. dunn, william. one of captain pound's crew. dunton, captain. a citizen of london, taken prisoner by the sallee pirates in . being a good navigator and seaman, and the moorish pirates being as yet inexperienced in the management of sailing ships, dunton was put into a sallee ship as pilot and master, with a crew of twenty-one moors and five flemish renegadoes. he was ordered to go to the english coast to capture christian prisoners. when off hurst castle, near the needles in the isle of wight, his ship was seized and the crew carried to winchester to stand their trial for piracy. dunton was acquitted, but he never saw his little son of years old, as he was still a slave in algiers. easton, captain. joined the barbary pirates in the sixteenth century, succeeding so well as to become, according to john smith, the virginian, a "marquesse in savoy," whatever that may have been. easton, captain peter. one of the most notorious of the english pirates during the reign of james i. in the year he had forty vessels under his command. the next year he was on the newfoundland coast, where he plundered the shipping and fishing settlements, stealing provisions and munitions, as well as inducing one hundred men to join his fleet. a year later, in , he appears to have joined the english pirates who had established themselves at mamora on the barbary coast. eaton, edward. of wrexham in wales. one of captain harris's crew. hanged at newport, rhode island, on july th, . age . echlin. an english pirate, of the _two brothers_, a rhode island built vessel, commanded in by a one-armed english pirate called captain johnson. eddy, william. of aberdeen. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged at white point, charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. england, captain. sailing in as mate in a sloop from jamaica, he was taken prisoner by the pirate captain winter. england joined the pirates, and was given the command of a vessel. in this ship he sailed to the coast of west africa, and the first prize he took was the _cadogan_ snow (captain skinner), at sierra leone. some of england's crew knew skinner, having served in his ship, and, owing to some quarrel, had been handed over to a man-of-war, and deprived of the wages due to them. these men afterwards deserted the man-of-war and joined the pirates. on captain skinner coming aboard england's ship, these men took him and bound him to the windlass, and then pelted him with glass bottles, after which they whipped him up and down the deck, eventually one of them shooting him through the head. this brutal treatment was none of england's doing, who was generally kind to his prisoners. england's next prize was the _pearl_, which he exchanged for his own sloop; fitted her up for the "pyratical account," and christened her the _royal james_. captain england was most successful, taking a number of prizes, which he plundered. one ship he captured so took the eye of england that he fitted her up and changed into her, naming her the _victory_. this he did in the harbour at whydah, where he met with another pirate, called la bouche. the two pirates and their crews spent a holiday at this place where, according to the well-informed captain johnson, "they liv'd very wantonly for several weeks, making free with the negroe women and committing such outrageous acts, that they came to an open rupture with the natives, several of whom they kill'd and one of their towns they set on fire." leaving here, no doubt to the great relief of the negroes, it was put to the vote of the crew to decide where they should go, and the majority were for visiting the east indies. rounding the cape of good hope, they arrived at madagascar early in , where they only stopped for water and provisions, and then sailed to the coast of malabar in india. here they took several country ships, and one dutch one, but soon returned to madagascar, where they went on shore, living in tents, and hunting hogs and deer. while on this island they looked for captain avery's crew, but failed to discover them. while the pirates were here they managed to take a ship commanded by a captain mackra, but not without a desperate fight. the pirates were for killing mackra, but, owing to the efforts of captain england, he managed to escape. the pirates had several times complained of the weakness, or humanity, of their commander towards his prisoners, and they now turned him out and elected a new captain, and marooned england and three others on the island of mauritius. the captain and his companions set about building a small boat of some old staves and pieces of deal they found washed up on the beach. when finished they sailed to madagascar, where, when last heard of, they were living on the charity of some other pirates. ernados, emanuel. a carolina pirate who was hanged at charleston in . esmit, adolf. a danish buccaneer, who afterwards became governor of the danish island of st. thomas, one of the virgin islands. the population of this island consisted of some persons, most of whom were english. esmit did all he could to assist the pirates, paid to fit out their ships for them, gave sanctuary to runaway servants, seamen, and debtors, and refused to restore captured vessels. adolf had taken advantage of his popularity with the inhabitants to turn out his brother, who was the rightful governor appointed by the danish government. essex, captain cornelius. buccaneer. in december, , he met with several other well-known buccaneers in four barques and two sloops at point morant, and on january th set sail for porto bello. the fleet was scattered by a terrible storm, but eventually they all arrived at the rendezvous. some men went in canoes and landed about twenty leagues from the town of porto bello, and marched for four days along the sea-coast. the buccaneers, "many of them were weak, being three days without any food, and their feet cut with the rocks for want of shoes," entered the town on february th, . the buccaneers, with prisoners and spoil, left the town just in time, for a party of spanish soldiers was near at hand coming to the rescue. the share to each man came to one hundred pieces of eight. in essex was brought a prisoner by a frigate, the _hunter_, to port royal, and tried with some twenty of his crew for plundering on the jamaican coast. essex was acquitted, but two of his crew were hanged. eucalla, domingo. a negro. hanged at kingston, jamaica, on february th, . made a moving harangue to the spectators from the gallows, ending with a prayer. of the ten pirates executed this day, eucalla showed the greatest courage. evans, captain john. welsh pirate. was master of a sloop belonging to the island of nevis. afterwards being in jamaica and out of employment, and berths being scarce, he decided to go "on the account," and in september, , rowed out of port royal in a canoe with a few chosen companions. they began piracy in a small way, by paddling along the coast and landing at night to break into a house or two and robbing these of anything they could carry away. at last at dun's hole they found what they were looking for, a small bermuda sloop lying at anchor. evans stepped aboard and informed the crew of the sloop that he was captain of their vessel, "which was a piece of news they knew not before." going on shore, evans stood treat to his crew at the village inn, spending three pistols on liquid refreshment. he so took the fancy of the publican by his open-handed ways that he was invited to call again. this evans and his companions did, in the middle of the same night, and rifled the house and took away all they could carry aboard their sloop. mounting four guns and christening their little vessel the _scowerer_, they set sail for hispaniola. good luck immediately followed, as on the very next day they took their first prize, a spanish sloop, an extraordinarily rich prize for her size, for the crew were able to share a sum of £ a man. for a while all was _coleur de rose_, prize after prize simply falling into their hands. but an unhappy accident was soon to bring an end to evans's career. the boatswain was a noisy, surly fellow, and on several occasions the captain had words with him about his disrespectful behaviour. the boatswain on one of these occasions so far forgot himself as not only to use ill language to his captain but to challenge him to a fight on the next shore they came to with pistol and sword. on reaching land the cowardly boatswain refused to go ashore or to fight, whereupon the captain took his cane and gave him a hearty drubbing, when the boatswain, all of a sudden drawing a pistol, shot evans through the head, so that he fell down dead. thus was brought to a tragic and sudden end a career that showed early signs of great promise. the boatswain jumped overboard and swam for the shore, but a boat put off and brought him back to the vessel. a trial was at once held, but the chief gunner, unable to bear with the slow legal procedure any further, stepped forward and shot the prisoner dead. the crew of thirty men now shared their plunder of some £ , and broke up, each going his own way. everson, captain jacob, _alias_ jacobs. in january, , sir henry morgan, then lieutenant-governor of jamaica, received information that a famous dutch buccaneer, everson, was anchored off the coast in an armed sloop, in company with a brigantine which he had lately captured. this was more than the ex-pirate governor could tolerate, so he at once set out in a small vessel with fifty picked men. the sloop was boarded at midnight, but everson and a few others escaped by leaping overboard and swimming to the shore. most of the prisoners were englishmen, and were convicted of piracy and hanged. exquemelin, alexander olivier, or esquemeling in english, oexmelin in french. buccaneer. a surgeon with the most famous buccaneers, exquemelin will always be known as the historian who recorded the deeds of the buccaneers in his classic book, "bucaniers of america, or a true account of the assaults committed upon the coasts of the west indies, etc.," published by w. cooke, london, . this book was first published in dutch at amsterdam in , then in german in , in spanish in . since then almost innumerable editions and reprints have appeared. the author was a fleming, who arrived at tortuga island in as an engagé of the french west india company. after serving for three years under an inhuman master he became so ill that he was sold cheaply to a surgeon. by the kind treatment of his new master exquemelin soon regained his health, and at the same time picked up the rudiments of the craft of barber surgeon. he was in all the great exploits of the buccaneers, and writes a clear, entertaining, and apparently perfectly accurate first-hand account of these adventures. he returned to europe in , and shortly afterwards published his book. fall, john. this buccaneer was one of captain sharp's crew. on the death of john hilliard, the ship's master, fall was promoted to the larboard watch. nothing further is known of this man. farrington, thomas. one of john quelch's crew on the brigantine _charles_. tried for piracy at boston in june, , at the star tavern. fenn, captain john. in the year captain anstis took prize a stout ship, the _morning star_, bound from guiney to carolina. this ship the pirates armed with thirty-two pieces of cannon, manned her with a crew of one hundred men, and placed fenn in command, who had until then been gunner in anstis's ship, the _good fortune_. fenn was a one-handed man. by carelessness, or perhaps because of fenn only having one hand, the _morning star_ was run on to a reef in the grand caymans and lost. fenn and a few others had just been taken on board by his consort when two king's ships arrived, and the _good fortune_ barely escaped capture. fenn was soon given another ship, one armed with twenty-four guns. in april, , while cleaning their ship at the island of tobago, they were suddenly surprised by the arrival of a man-of-war, the _winchelsea_. setting fire to their ship, the crew ran to hide in the woods. fenn was caught a few days later struggling through the jungle with his gunner. ferdinando, lewis. in he captured a sloop belonging to samuel salters, of bermuda. fern, thomas. a newfoundland fish-splitter. in august, , joined with john phillips in stealing a small vessel, which they called the _revenge_, and went "on the account." fern was appointed carpenter. fern gave trouble afterwards over the promotion of a prisoner, an old pirate called rose archer, to the rank of quartermaster. later on fern headed a mutiny and attempted to sail off on his own in one of the prize vessels. he was caught, brought back, and forgiven, but on attempting to run away a second time, captain phillips killed him, "pursuant to the pirates articles." fernon, william. a somersetshire man. taken from a newfoundland ship, he became a seaman aboard bartholomew roberts's _royal fortune_. died at the age of . fife, captain james. surrendered to governor woodes rogers at new providence island, bahamas, in june, , and received the royal pardon to pirates. was afterwards killed by his own crew. fillmore, john. a fisherman of ipswich. taken out of the _dolphin_ when fishing for cod off the banks of newfoundland in by the pirate captain phillips, and forced to join the pirates. having no other means of escape he, with two others, suddenly killed phillips and two more pirates and brought the vessel into boston harbour. millard fillmore, thirteenth president of the united states, was the great grandson of john fillmore. fitzerrald, john. of limerick. this irish pirate was hanged at newport, rhode island, in , at the age of . fleming, captain. pirate. this notorious elizabethan pirate did his country a great service by bringing to plymouth the first tidings of the approach of the spanish armada in . to quote john smith, the great elizabethan traveller and the founder of the colony of virginia, "fleming was an expert and as much sought for as any pirate of the queen's reign, yet such a friend to his country, that discovering the spanish armada, he voluntarily came to plymouth, yielded himself freely to my lord admirall, and gave him notice of the spaniards coming: which good warning came so happily and unexpectedly, that he had his pardon, and a good reward." fletcher, john. of edinburgh. tried at newport, rhode island, for piracy in , found "not guilty." his age was only years. fly, captain william. pirate and prizefighter. he was boatswain in the _elizabeth_, of bristol, in , bound for guinea. heading a mutiny on may th, he tossed the captain over the ship's side, and slaughtered all the officers except the ship's surgeon. fly was unanimously elected captain by the crew. his first prize was the _john and hannah_ off the coast of north carolina. the next the _john and betty_, captain gale, from bardadoes to guinea. after taking several other vessels, he cruised off the coast of newfoundland where he took a whaler. fly was caught by a piece of strategy on the part of the whaler captain, who carried him and his crew in chains in their own ship to great brewster, massachusetts, in june, . on july th fly and the other pirates were brought to trial at boston, and on the th were executed. on the day of execution fly refused to go to church before the hanging to listen to a sermon by dr. coleman. on the way to the gallows he bore himself with great bravado, jumping briskly into the cart with a nosegay in his hands bedecked with coloured ribbons like a prizefighter, smiling and bowing to the spectators. he was hanged in chains at nix's mate, a small island in boston harbour, and thus was brought to a close a brief though brilliant piratical career of just one month. forrest, william. one of the mutinous crew of the _antonio_ hanged at boston in . forseith, edward. one of captain avery's crew. hanged at execution dock, . foster. buccaneer and poet. only two facts are known about this adventurer. one is that he was reproved on a certain occasion by morgan (who thought nothing of torturing his captives) for "harshness" to his prisoners, and the other that he wrote sentimental verse, particularly one work entitled "sonneyettes of love." franklyn, charles. this welsh pirate was a monmouthshire man, and one of captain howel davis's crew. while at the cape verde islands, franklyn "was so charmed with the luxuries of the place and the free conversation of the women," that he married and settled down there. freebarn, matthew. one of captain lowther's crew. hanged at st. kitts on march th, . frogge, william. buccaneer. was with morgan in his attacks on porto bello and panama in . he kept a diary of the chief events of these exploits, and distinctly states that the spaniards, and not morgan, set fire to the city. but he was greatly enraged against morgan for cheating the buccaneers out of their plunder, and giving each man only about £ as his share. fulworth, mrs. anne. this lady accompanied anne bonny to new providence island from carolina in the guise of her mother. when captain rackam and anne bonny were intriguing to run away from the latter's husband, "a pardoned pirate, a likely young fellow and of a sober life," mrs. fulworth offered sympathy and advice to the lovers. the scandal being brought to the ears of governor woodes rogers by a pirate called richard turnley, he sent for the two ladies, "and examining them both upon it, and finding they could not deny it, he threaten'd, if they proceeded further in it, to commit them both to prison, and order them to be whipp'd, and that rackam, himself, should be their executioner." garcia. one of gilbert's crew in the _panda_. hanged at boston in june, . gardiner. although at one time a pirate, by some means or other he became appointed to the office of deputy collector at boston in . accepted a bribe of stolen gold from the pirate gillam, which caused some gossip in the town. gaspar, captain josÉ, _alias_ "gasparilla" or "richard coeur de lion." was an officer of high rank in the spanish navy till , when, having been detected in stealing some jewels belonging to the crown, he stole a ship and turned pirate. settling at charlotte harbour, he built a fort, where he kept his female prisoners, all the male ones being killed. here he lived in regal state as king of the pirates, on gasparilla island. in he took a big spanish ship forty miles from boca grande, killed the crew, and took a quantity of gold and twelve young ladies. one of these was a spanish princess, whom he kept for himself; the eleven mexican girls he gave to his crew. gaspar was described as having polished manners and a great love of fashionable clothes, and being fearless in fight; but in spite of all these attractive qualities, the little spanish princess would have none of him, and was murdered. by the year the united states government had made matters so hot for gaspar that the pirate kingdom was broken up and their booty of , , dollars divided. as he was about to sail away, a big ship came into the bay, apparently an english merchantman. gaspar at once prepared to attack her, when she ran up the stars and stripes, proving herself to be a heavily armed american man-of-war. the pirate ship was defeated, and gaspar, winding a piece of anchor chain round his waist, jumped overboard and was drowned, his age being . gates, thomas. hanged in virginia in with the rest of captain edward teach's crew. gautier, franÇois, or gautiez, _alias_ george sadwell. native of havre. cook on board the _jane_ schooner, commanded by captain thomas johnson. while on a voyage from gibraltar to brazil with a valuable cargo, gautier and the mate killed the captain and the helmsman and steered the vessel to scotland, sinking her near stornoway. caught and tried at edinburgh in november, , found guilty, and hanged in january on the sands of leith, his body being publicly dissected afterwards by the professor of anatomy to edinburgh university. the age of this french pirate at his death was . gayny, george, or gainy. one of wafer's little party lost in the jungle of darien in . in attempting to swim across a swollen river with a line, he got into difficulties, became entangled in the line which was tied round his neck, and having also a bag containing spanish silver dollars on his back, he sank and was swept away. some time afterwards wafer found gayny lying dead in a creek with the rope twisted about him and his money at his neck. gennings, captain. a renegade english pirate who joined the barbary corsairs, turned mohammedan, and commanded a moorish pirate vessel. taken prisoner off the irish coast, he was brought to london and hanged at wapping. gerrard, thomas. of the island of antigua. one of major bonnet's crew of the _royal james_. tried for piracy at charleston in , but found "not guilty." gibbens, garrat. boatswain on board the _queen ann's revenge_. was killed at the same time as captain teach. gibbs, charles. born at rhode island in , he was brought up on a farm there. ran away to sea in the united states sloop-of-war _harriet_. was in action off pernambuco against h.m.s. _peacock_, afterwards serving with credit on board the _chesapeake_ in her famous fight with the _shannon_; but after his release from dartmoor as a prisoner of war he opened a grocery shop in ann street, called the "tin pot," "a place full of abandoned women and dissolute fellows." drinking up all the profits, he was compelled to go to sea again, and got a berth on a south american privateer. gibbs led a mutiny, seized the ship and turned her into a pirate, and cruised about in the neighbourhood of havana, plundering merchant vessels along the coast of cuba. he slaughtered the crews of all the ships he took. in returned to private life in new york with , dollars in gold. taking a pleasure trip to liverpool, he was entrapped by a designing female and lost all his money. in he took to piracy once more and shipped as a seaman in the brig _vineyard_ (captain w. thornby), new orleans to philadelphia, with a cargo of cotton, molasses, and , dollars in specie. gibbs again brought about a mutiny, murdering the captain and mate. after setting fire to and scuttling the ship, the crew took to their boats, landing at barrow island, where they buried their money in the sand. he was hanged at new york as recently as . giddens, paul. one of captain quelch's crew. tried at boston in . giddings, john. of york river, virginia. one of captain pound's crew. wounded and taken prisoner at tarpaulin cove in . gilbert, captain. commanded the schooner _panda_. on september th, , he took and plundered a salem brig, the _mexican_, on her way from salem to rio de janeiro. a few months later gilbert and his crew were captured by captain trotter, of h.m. brig-of-war _curlew_, and taken as prisoners to salem and handed over to the united states authorities. tried at boston in december, . hanged at the same place on june th, . this was the last act of piracy committed upon the atlantic ocean. gillam, captain james, _alias_ kelly. a notorious pirate. when serving on board the east indiaman _mocha_, he led a mutiny, and with his own hands murdered the commander, captain edgecomb, in his sleep. he came back to america with captain kidd, and was hiding, under the name of kelly, when caught in at charleston, opposite boston, by the governor of massachusetts, who described him as "the most impudent, hardened villain i ever saw." it was said that gillam had entered the service of the mogul, turned mohammedan, and been circumcised. to settle this last point, the prisoner was examined by a surgeon and a jew, who both declared, on oath, that it was so. gills, john. one of captain teach's crew. hanged in virginia in . glasby, harry. sailed as mate in the _samuel_, of london (captain cary), which was taken in by roberts, who made glasby master on board the _royal fortune_. tried for piracy on the guinea coast in april and acquitted. evidence was brought at his trial to show that glasby was forced to serve with the pirates, for, being a "sea-artist" or sail-master, he was most useful to them. twice he tried to escape in the west indies, on one occasion being tried with two others by a drunken jury of pirates. the other deserters were shot, but glasby was saved by one of his judges threatening to shoot anyone who made any attempt on him. glasby befriended other prisoners and gave away his share of the plunder to them. when the _royal fortune_ was taken by the _swallow_, several of the most desperate pirates, particularly one james philips, took lighted matches with which to ignite the powder magazine and blow up the ship. glasby prevented this by placing trusted sentinels below. godekins, master. this notorious hanseatic pirate, with another called stertebeker, did fearful damage to english and other merchant shipping in the north sea in the latter part of the fourteenth century. on june st, , he seized an english ship laden with salt fish off the coast of denmark, her value being reckoned at £ . the master and crew of twenty-five men they slew, the only mariner saved being a boy, whom the pirates took with them to wismar. these same men took another english ship, the _dogger_ (captain gervase cat). the _dogger_ was at anchor, and the crew fishing, when the pirates attacked them. the captain and crew were wounded, and damage was done to the tune of nobles. another vessel taken was a yarmouth barque, _michael_ (master, robert rigweys), while off plymouth, the owner, hugh ap fen, losing nobles. in these hanseatic pirates, with a large fleet, attacked the town of norbern in norway, plundering the town and taking away all they could carry, as well as the merchants, who they held for ransom. the houses they burnt. goffe, christopher. originally one of captain woollery's crew of rhode island pirates. in november, , he surrendered himself at boston, and was pardoned. in august, , was commissioned by the governor to cruise with his ship, the _swan_, between cape cod and cape ann, to protect the coast from pirates. goldsmith, captain thomas. of dartmouth in devon. during the reign of queen anne, goldsmith commanded a privateer vessel, the _snap dragon_, of dartmouth. he turned pirate and amassed great riches. this pirate would have been forgotten by now were it not that he died in his bed at dartmouth, and was buried in the churchyard there. the lines engraved on his tombstone have been quoted in the preface, but may be repeated here: men that are virtuous serve the lord; and the devil's by his friends ador'd; and as they merit get a place amidst the bless'd or hellish race; pray then, ye learned clergy show where can this brute, tom goldsmith, go? whose life was one continual evil, striving to cheat god, man, and devil. gomez, john, _alias_ panther key john. brother-in-law of the famous pirate gasparilla. died, credited with the great age of years, at panther key in florida in . goodale, john. a devonshire man. goodale, who was a renegade and had turned mohammedan, held a position of importance and wealth amongst the moors of algiers. in the year he bought from the moors a british prize called the _exchange_, and also, for the sum of £ s., an english slave, lately captain of an english merchant ship, whom he got cheap owing to his having a deformed hand. goodly, captain. an english buccaneer of jamaica, who in the year was in command of a "junk" armed with six guns and carrying a crew of sixty men. gordon, captain nathaniel. of portland, maine. commanded and owned the _evie_, a small, full-rigged ship, which was fitted up as a "slaver." made four voyages to west africa for slaves. on his last voyage he was captured by the united states sloop _mohican_, with negroes on board. tried in new york for piracy and found guilty and condemned to death. great pressure was brought on president lincoln to reprieve him, but without success, and gordon was hanged at new york on february nd, . goss, cuthbert. born at topsham in devon. the compiler of these biographies regrets to have to record that this pirate was hanged, at the comparatively tender age of , outside the gates of cape coast castle, within the flood-marks, in . he was one of captain roberts's crew, having been taken prisoner by roberts at calabar in a prize called the _mercy_ galley, of bristol, in . gow, captain john, _alias_ smith, _alias_ goffe. a scotch pirate, born at thurso. although the short career of this pirate made a great noise at the time, he did little to merit the fame which he achieved. he had the honour of having an account of his piratical activities written by defoe, and ninety years later was made the hero in a novel by walter scott, as captain cleveland. gow sailed from amsterdam as a foremast hand in the _george_ galley, commanded by captain ferneau, a guernsey man. being a brisk and intelligent man, he was soon promoted to be second mate. they called at santa cruz in barbary to take in a cargo of beeswax to deliver at genoa. sailing from santa cruz on november rd, , gow and a few others conspired to mutiny and then to go "upon the account." the captain, as was his custom, had all hands, except the helmsman, into his cabin at eight o'clock each night for prayers. this particular night, after it was dark, the conspirators went below to the hammocks of the chief mate, the supercargo, and the surgeon and cut all their throats. they did the same to the captain, who was then thrown overboard though still alive. gow being now elected captain and one williams, a thorough rogue, mate, they renamed the vessel the _revenge_, armed her with eighteen guns, and cruised off the coast of spain, taking an english sloop with a cargo of fish from newfoundland, commanded by captain thomas wise of poole. their second prize was a glasgow ship loaded with herrings and salmon. they next sailed to madeira, where gow presented the governor with a box of scotch herrings. about this time williams, the first mate, insulted gow by accusing him of cowardice because he had refused to attack a big french ship, and snapped his pistol at him. two seamen standing near shot williams, wounding him severely, and to get rid of him they put him aboard one of their prizes. discussions now took place as to where to sail, and gow, who was in love with a lass in the orkney islands, suggested sailing thither, as being a good place to traffic their stolen goods. on arriving at carristown they sold most of their cargo, and one of the crew, going on shore, bought a horse for three pieces of eight and rode to kirkwall and surrendered himself. next day ten more men deserted, setting out in the long-boat for the mainland of scotland, but were taken prisoners in the _forth_, of edinburgh. by now the whole countryside was alarmed. gow's next move was to land his men and plunder the houses of the gentry. they visited a mrs. honnyman and her daughter, but these ladies managed to get their money and jewellery away in safety. gow's crew marched back to their ship with a bagpiper playing at their head. they now sailed to calfsound, seized three girls and took them aboard. then to the island of eda to plunder the house of mr. fea, an old schoolmate of gow's. arriving there on february th, by bad management they ran their vessel on the rocks. the bo'son and five men went ashore and met mr. fea, who entertained them at the local public-house. by a simple stratagem, mr. fea seized first the bo'son and afterwards the five men. soon after this, fea trapped gow and all the rest of his crew of twenty-eight men. help was sent for, and eventually the _greyhound_ frigate arrived and took gow and his crew to london, arriving off woolwich on march th, . the prisoners were taken to the marshalsea prison in southwark, and there found their old companion, lieutenant williams. four men turned king's evidence--viz., george dobson, job phinnies, tim murphy, and william booth. the trial at newgate began on may th, when gow was sullen and reserved and refused to plead. he was ordered to be pressed to death, which was the only form of torture still allowed by the law. at the last moment gow yielded, and pleaded "not guilty." gow was found guilty, and hanged on june th, , but "as he was turned off, he fell down from the gibbit, the rope breaking by the weight of some that pulled his leg. although he had been hanging for four minutes, he was able to climb up the ladder a second time, which seemed to concern him very little, and he was hanged again." [illustration: pressing a pirate to plead. to face p. .] his body was then taken to greenwich and there hanged in chains, to be a warning to others. graff, le capitaine laurens de. filibuster. commanded _le neptune_, a ship armed with fifty-four guns and a crew of men, in the west indies in the seventeenth century. graham, captain. commanded a shallop, with a crew of fourteen men, in . sailed in company with captain veale up and down the coast of virginia and new england. grambo. was "boss" of barataria, the smugglers' stronghold off the island of grande terre, near louisiana, until shot by jean lafitte in . grammont, sieur de. french filibuster. one of the great buccaneers. born in paris, he entered the royal marines, in which he distinguished himself in several naval engagements. he commanded a frigate in the west indies, and captured near martinique a dutch ship with a cargo worth £ , , which he carried to hispaniola, but there lost all of it through gambling, and, not daring to return to france, he joined the buccaneers. he sailed to curaçoa in with the count d'estrees' fleet, which was wrecked on a coral reef off the isle d'aves. de grammont was left behind to salve what he could from the wreck. after this, with men he sailed to maracaibo, spending six months on the lake, seizing the shipping and plundering all the settlements in the neighbourhood. in june, , de grammont, with an obsolete commission and a small party of men, made a brilliant night assault on la guayra, the seaport of caracas. only forty-seven men took part in the actual attack on the town, which was guarded by two forts and by cannon upon the walls. the pirates were attacked next day by , spaniards from caracas, but with the greatest skill and bravery de grammont got almost all his party away, though wounded himself in the throat. he carried away with him amongst his prisoners the governor of the town. he retired to the isle d'aves to nurse his wound, and later went to petit goave. in took part in the successful english and french attack on vera cruz, and afterwards, when vanhorn died of gangrene, de grammont, his lieutenant, carried his ship back to petit goave. in he received a fresh commission from de cossey, the governor of dominica, and joined forces with the famous buccaneer laurens de graff at the isle of vache, and sailed with , men for campeachy. taking the town, he reduced it to ashes and blew up the fortress, returning with the plunder to hispaniola. before leaving, however, to celebrate the festival of st. louis, they burnt a huge bonfire, using , crowns worth of logwood. grammont at this time commanded a fine ship, _le hardy_ (fifty guns and a crew of men). in de grammont was granted a commission of "lieutenant du roi," in order to keep him from harassing the spaniards, and yet not to lose his valuable services to his country. in order to have one last fling at the old free buccaneering life before settling down to the more sedate and respectable calling of an officer in the french king's navy, de grammont sailed off with a party of desperadoes, but was never heard of again. grand, pierre le. a native of dieppe in normandy. le grand was the man who, having made one great and successful exploit, had the good sense to retire. he was the first pirate to take up his quarters at tortuga island, and was known amongst the english as "peter the great." his name will go down to posterity for his "bold and insolent" action when in a small open boat with a handful of men he seized a great spanish galleon. pierre had been out on the "grand account" for a long while, meeting with no success. when almost starving and in despair, a great spanish fleet hove in sight, and one ship, bigger than the rest, was observed sailing at some little distance behind the other vessels. the mad idea entered the head of the now desperate pirate to take this ship. the pirates all took an oath to their captain to fight without fear and never to surrender. it was dusk, and in these tropical latitudes night follows day very quickly. before the attack, orders were given to the surgeon to bore a hole in the bottom of the boat so that it would quickly sink, thus taking away any hope of escape should the enterprise fail. this was done, and the boat was paddled quietly alongside the great warship, when the crew, armed only with a pistol and a sword a-piece, clambered up the sides and jumped aboard. quickly and silently the sleeping helmsman was killed, while pierre and a party of his men ran down into the great cabin, where they surprised the spanish admiral playing cards with his officers. the admiral, suddenly confronted by a band of bearded desperadoes in his cabin with a pistol aimed at his head, ejaculated "jesus bless us! are these devils or what are they?" while this was going on others of the pirates had hurried to the gun-room, seized the arms, killing every spaniard who withstood them. pierre knew, as scarcely any other successful pirate or gambler ever did, the right moment to stop. he at once put ashore all the prisoners he did not want for working the ship, and sailed straight back to france; where he lived the rest of his life in comfortable obscurity, and never again returned to piracy. the news of this exploit spread rapidly over the west indies, and caused the greatest excitement amongst the pirate fraternity of tortuga and hispaniola. men left their work of killing and drying beef, while others deserted their plantations to go a-pirating on the spaniards, in much the same way as men went to a gold rush years after. those who had no boat would venture forth in canoes looking for rich spanish treasure ships. it was this wild deed of pierre le grand that was the beginning of piracy in the west indies, towards the latter half of the seventeenth century. grange, roger. one of captain lowther's crew of the _happy delivery_. tried for piracy at st. kitts in , but acquitted. de graves, captain herbert. this dutch pirate sailed as captain of his own merchant vessel during the reign of king charles ii. he took to landing his crew on the south coast of england and raiding gentlemen's houses. the first he ever pillaged was that of a mr. sturt, in sussex. in those days, when banks were almost unknown, the houses of the rich often contained great sums of money. de graves was wont to sail along the devonshire coast, sometimes landing and robbing a house, sometimes taking a ship, which he would carry to rotterdam and sell. he made several daring raids into cowes and lowestoft, getting off with valuable plunder. in the war between england and the dutch, graves was given command of a fire-ship. this vessel he handled very capably, and in the action off the downs he ran her on board the _sandwich_, setting her on fire. james, duke of york, escaped from the _sandwich_ with great difficulty, while the earl of albemarle and most of the crew perished. at the conclusion of the war, de graves returned to piracy, but his ship was wrecked in a storm close to walmer castle. the captain and a few of his crew were saved, and, being made prisoners, were hanged on a tree. greaves, captain, _alias_ "red legs." west indian pirate. born in barbadoes of prisoners who had been sent there as slaves by cromwell. most of these slaves were natives of scotland and ireland, and, owing to their bare knees, generally went by the name of red legs. young greaves was left an orphan, but had a kind master and a good education. his master dying, the lad was sold to another and a cruel one. the boy ran away, swam across carlisle bay, but by mistake clambered on to the wrong ship, a pirate vessel, commanded by a notoriously cruel pirate called captain hawkins. finding himself driven to the calling of piracy, greaves became very efficient, and quickly rose to eminence. he was remarkable for his dislike of unnecessary bloodshed, torture of prisoners, and killing of non-combatants. these extraordinary views brought about a duel between himself and his captain, in which the former was victorious, and he was at once elected commander. greaves now entered a period of the highest piratical success, but always preserved very strictly his reputation for humanity and morality. he never tortured his prisoners, nor ever robbed the poor, nor maltreated women. his greatest success of all was his capture of the island of margarita, off the coast of venezuela. on this occasion, after capturing the spanish fleet, he turned the guns of their warships against the forts, which he then stormed, and was rewarded by a huge booty of pearls and gold. red legs then retired to the respectable life of a planter in the island of nevis, but was one day denounced as a pirate by an old seaman. he was cast into a dungeon to await execution, when the great earthquake came which destroyed and submerged the town in , and one of the few survivors was greaves. he was picked up by a whaler, on board of which he served with success, and later on, for his assistance in capturing a gang of pirates, he received pardon for his earlier crimes. he again retired to a plantation, and was noted for his many acts of piety and for his generous gifts to charities and public institutions, eventually dying universally respected and sorrowed. greensail, richard. one of blackbeard's crew in the _queen ann's revenge_. hanged in virginia in . greenville, henry. hanged at boston in with captain fly and samuel cole. griffin, jack. chief mate of a bristol vessel. one of the chief mutineers on board the _bird_ galley in , off sierra leone, when he befriended the captain of the _bird_, with whom he had been at school. took part in a feast to celebrate the success of the mutiny, the meal being cooked in a huge caldron in which the slaves' food was prepared. in this caldron were boiled, on this occasion, fowls, ducks, geese, and turkeys, which were unplucked; several westphalian hams were added, and a "large sow with young embowled." the health of king james iii., the pretender, was drunk with full honours. griffin, john. of blackwall, middlesex. taken out of the _mercy_ galley and appointed carpenter on board the _royal fortune_ by captain roberts. condemned to be hanged at cape coast castle, but pardoned and sold to the royal african company as a slave for seven years. griffin, richard. a gunsmith of boston. sailed with captain pound. wounded in a fight at tarpaulin cove, a bullet entering his ear and coming out through his eye. grogniet, captain. a french buccaneer who in was in company with captain l'escayer, with a crew of some french and english freebooters. he joined davis and swan during the blockade of panama in , and was in the unsuccessful attempt in may, , on the spanish treasure fleet from lima. in july of the same year grogniet, with french buccaneers, parted company from davis at quibo, plundered several towns, and then, foolishly, revisited quibo, where they were discovered by a spanish squadron in january, , and their ship was burnt while the crew was on shore. they were rescued by townley, with whom they went north to nicaragua, and sacked granada. in may, , grogniet and half the frenchmen crossed the isthmus. in the january following, grogniet reappeared, and, joining with the english, again plundered guayaquil, where he was severely wounded, and died soon afterwards. gullimillit, breti. taken with other south american pirates by h.m. sloop _tyne_, and hanged at kingston, jamaica, in . gutterez, juan. hanged at kingston, jamaica, on february th, . guy, captain. commanded the frigate _james_ (fourteen guns, ninety men). belonged to tortuga island and jamaica in . hains, richard. one of captain low's crew. when low took a portuguese ship at st. michael's in the azores in , he, with unusual kindness, simply burnt the ship and let the crew go to shore in a boat. while the prisoners were getting out the boat, richard hains happened to be drinking punch out of a silver tankard at one of the open ports, and took the opportunity to drop into the boat among the portuguese and lie down in the bottom, so as to escape with them. suddenly remembering his silver tankard, he climbed back, seized the tankard, and hid again in the boat, somehow, by great good fortune, being unobserved by those on the ship, and so escaped almost certain death both for himself and the portuguese sailors. halsey, captain john. this famous south sea pirate was born on march st, , at boston, and received a commission from the governor of massachusetts to cruise as a privateer on the banks. no sooner was he out of sight of land than halsey turned pirate. taking a ship or two, he sailed to the canary islands, picking up a rich spanish ship there. he next doubled the cape of good hope, and paid a call on the "brethren" at madagascar. he then sailed to the red sea, another happy hunting ground of the pirates, and met a big dutch ship armed with sixty guns. halsey astounded his men by announcing his sudden determination to attack only moorish ships in the future. the indignant crew mutinied, threw captain halsey and his chief gunner in irons, and proceeded to attack the dutchman. the mutinous pirates got the worst of the encounter, and released halsey, who only just managed to get his ship away. luck seems to have deserted halsey for a while, for not a moorish ship could he meet with, so much so that his scruples against taking christian ships eased enough to permit him to bag a brace of english ships, the _essex_ and the _rising eagle_. the captain of the former proved to be a very old and dear friend of halsey's quartermaster, and to show a friendly feeling, halsey allowed the captain to keep all his personal belongings. nevertheless, they took a comfortable booty, comprising some fifty thousand pounds in english gold, out of the _essex_, and another ten thousand out of the _rising eagle_. the pirates, being strict business men, produced invoices and sold the two ships back to their legal owners for cash, and having settled this affair to everybody's satisfaction, halsey and his consort returned to madagascar. here they were visited by the captain of a scotch ship, the _neptune_, which had come to trade liquor, probably rum, but possibly whisky, with the pirates. a sudden hurricane arose, destroying both the pirate ships and damaging the _neptune_. halsey, ever a man of resource, thereupon seized the scotch ship, and, with even greater enterprise, at once attacked a ship, the _greyhound_, which lay at anchor, which was loaded with stolen merchandise which the pirates had only just sold to the captain of the _greyhound_, and for which they had been paid. the end was now drawing near, for in captain halsey was taken ill of some tropical fever and died. he was a popular commander, respected, ever loved by his men, for he was a humane man, never killing his prisoners unless necessity compelled. a contemporary eyewitness of his funeral rites leaves the following account of his burial: "with great solemnity, the prayers of the church of england being read over him and his sword and pistols laid on his coffin, which was covered with a ship's jack. as many minute guns were fired as he was old--viz., --and three english vollies and one french volley of small arms." the chronicler continues: "his grave was made in a garden of watermelons and fenced in to prevent his being rooted up by wild pigs." this last a truly touching thought on the part of the bereaved. haman, captain john. he lived all alone with his wife and family on a small and otherwise uninhabited island in the bahamas. about the year , he sailed into new providence harbour in his -ton sloop, intending to settle there. captain rackam and anne bonny stole this vessel and eloped in her. writing of captain haman, johnson tells us "his livelihood and constant employment was to plunder and pillage the spaniards, whose sloops and launces he had often surprised about cuba and hispaniola, and sometimes brought off a considerable booty, always escaping by a good pair of heels, insomuch that it became a bye-word to say, 'there goes john haman, catch him if you can.' his business to providence now was to bring his family there, in order to live and settle, being weary, perhaps, of living in that solitude, or else apprehensive if any of the spaniards should discover his habitation, they might land, and be revenged of him for all his pranks." hamlin, captain jean. a famous french filibuster who turned pirate. set out in from jamaica in a sloop with other desperadoes in pursuit of a french ship that was "wanted" by the jamaican governor. having overtaken the ship, _la trompeuse_, he seized her, fitted her up as a man-of-war, and then started out on a wild piratical cruise, taking eighteen jamaican vessels, barbarously ill-treating the crews, and completely demoralizing the trade of the island. two other ships were now sent to find and destroy the new _la trompeuse_, but hamlin escaped and sailed to the virgin islands, and was most hospitably received by the governor of the danish island of st. thomas, one adolf esmit, who was himself a retired pirate. using this island as his headquarters hamlin cruised about and took several english ships. in may, , he appeared on the west coast of africa disguised as an english man-of-war. off the coast of sierra leone, he took seventeen dutch and english ships, returning to dominica in july, , finally reaching the friendly st. thomas island, being warmly welcomed back by the pirate governor. three days afterwards, h.m.s. _francis_ arrived on the lookout for pirates, and attacked and burnt hamlin's ship. hamlin, with the help of the governor, managed to escape with his life. hands, israel, also known as basilica hands. sailing-master with the famous teach or blackbeard. one day when teach was entertaining a pilot and hands in his cabin, after they had been drinking and chatting awhile seated round the cabin table, on which stood a lighted candle, blackbeard suddenly drew his pistols, blew out the candle, and crossing his arms, fired both his pistols under the table. hands was shot in the knee, and crippled for life. teach's explanation to the angry demands of his guests as to the reason for this extraordinary conduct produced the reply that "if he did not shoot one or two of them now and then, they'd forget who he was." hands after this deserted, but was captured at bath in carolina by brand. hands, probably in revenge for being wantonly shot by teach, turned king's evidence at the inquiry held at charleston, and brought very serious accusations against one of the most prominent men in the colony, knight, who was secretary to the chief justice, and a deputy collector of customs. hands was tried for piracy in virginia in december, , but pardoned. when last heard of was seen begging his bread in london. hansel, captain. he behaved himself so courageously at the taking of porto bello in , that a party of some men, in four ships, chose hansel to be their admiral in an attempt on the town of comana, near caracas. this attack was a most complete failure, the pirates being driven off "with great loss and in great confusion." when hansel's party arrived back at jamaica, they found the rest of morgan's men had returned before them, who "ceased not to mock and jeer at them for their ill success at comana, after telling them, 'let us see what money you brought from comana, and if it be as good silver as that which we bring from maracaibo.'" harding, captain thomas. in he captured a rich prize, a barbadoes vessel. for this he was tried for piracy at boston. hardy, richard. one of captain bartholomew roberts's crew. hanged at cape coast castle, west coast of africa, on april th, , at the age of years. it is recorded that, owing to the lack of expert knowledge in the niceties of carrying out executions, hardy was led to the scaffold with his hands tied behind him. this annoyed hardy very much, and it is mentioned in the official account of his execution that the prisoner indignantly declared "that he had seen many a man hang'd, but this way of the hands being ty'd behind them, he was a stranger to, and never saw before in his life." harper, abraham. born at bristol. he was cooper on board captain roberts's _royal fortune_. when the pirates took a prize, it was harper's duty to see that all the casks and coopers' tools were removed from the prize to the pirate craft. hanged at the age of , with the rest of the crew, in . harris, captain. joined the barbary corsairs during the reign of queen elizabeth, turned mohammedan, and rose to command a moorish pirate vessel. cruised off the coast of ireland, was taken prisoner by an english ship, and hanged at wapping. harris, hugh. of corfe castle, dorsetshire. one of roberts's crew; tried and condemned to be hanged in , but reprieved and sold to the royal african company to serve for seven years in their plantations. harris, james. one of roberts's crew. harris, peter. born in kent. this buccaneer was known amongst the brethren of the coast as "a brave and stout soldier." in he took a leading part in the march of the buccaneers across the isthmus of darien, but during the attack on the spanish fleet off panama he was shot in both legs, and died of his wounds. harris, richard. a cornishman. one of captain roberts's crew and the oldest, being years of age when he was hanged, an unusually advanced age to reach in this most "unhealthy" profession. harrison, captain. sailed in october, , in company with captains prince and ludbury, into port royal, after a successful expedition with men up the san juan river in nicaragua, when they plundered the unfortunate city of granada. this city had suffered so much from previous attacks from the buccaneers that the plunder came to only some £ per man on this occasion. modyford, the governor of jamaica, "reproved the captains for acting without commissions, but did not deem it prudent to press the matter too far"; in fact, instead of arresting harrison and his crew, he sent them to join morgan the buccaneer, who was then gathering together a great fleet of buccaneers at the isle of vache. harvey, captain. arrived at new london in in company with another pirate, captain veale; posed as an honest merchant, but, being recognized, left in great haste. harvey, william. tried for piracy with the rest of gow's crew at newgate in , and acquitted. harwood, john. tried for piracy at boston in . one of the crew of the brigantine _charles_ (captain john quelch, commander). hattsell, captain. this buccaneer served as an officer with mansfield in his successful and daring night attack on the island of providence, when, with only men, the fort was captured and the spanish governor taken prisoner. captain hattsell was left behind with thirty-five men to hold the island, while mansfield sailed to the mainland with his prisoners, who had surrendered on condition that they should be safely conducted there. hawkins, captain. a seventeenth-century barbadoes pirate. notorious for his cruelty, which led to his fighting a duel with one of his crew, greaves, _alias_ red legs, by whom he was defeated, his victor being elected captain in his place. hawkins, sir john. born in . this famous elizabethan seaman sailed in to the canary islands, and traded in negro slaves between africa and hispaniola. afterwards became an officer in the royal navy. died at sea off porto bello, in , when serving with drake in the west indies. hawkins, captain thomas. in the year cruised off the coast of new england, burning and plundering the shipping. the bay colony sent out an armed sloop, the _mary_ (samuel pease, commander), in october of that year, to attempt to capture hawkins. pease found the pirate in buzzard's bay. hawkins ran up a red flag and a furious engagement began. the crew of the _mary_ at last boarded the pirates, and the captain, pease, was so severely wounded that he died. hawkins, thomas. born at boston. turned pirate and cruised with captain pound. tried for piracy at boston in , but reprieved. sent to england, but on the voyage was killed in a fight with a french privateer. hayes, captain, nicknamed "bully hayes." a south sea pirate. in was arrested by the english consul at samoa for piracy. there being no prison in this delightful island, the consul ran hayes's ship on shore, and waited for a man-of-war to call and take his prisoner away. hayes spent his time, while under open arrest, attending native picnic parties, at which he was the life and soul, being, when off duty, a man of great charm of manner and a favourite with the ladies. presently another pirate arrived, one captain pease, in an armed ship with a malay crew. hayes and pease quarrelled violently, and the consul had great trouble to keep the two pirates from coming to blows. this animosity was all a sham to throw dust in the consul's eyes, for one night pease sailed away with hayes, whom he had smuggled on board his ship. hazel, thomas. of westminster. hanged in rhode island in at the advanced age, for a pirate, of . this is one of the longest lived pirates we have been able to hear of. heaman, peter, _alias_ rogers. a french pirate, born in . sailed from gibraltar in may, , as mate on board the schooner _jane_ (captain thomas johnson), bound for bahia, brazil, with a very rich cargo of beeswax, silk, olives, and other goods, as well as eight barrels of spanish dollars. when about seventeen days out, in the middle of the night, heaman attacked one of the crew, james paterson, and beat him to death. on the captain coming up on deck to find out what all the noise was about, heaman beat him to death with a musket, being assisted by the cook, francis gautier, also a frenchman. the two conspirators then proceeded to imprison the rest of the crew in the forecastle, and threw the dead bodies of the captain and the sailor overboard. for two days the murderers tried to suffocate the crew by burning pitch and blowing the smoke into the forecastle. failing to accomplish this they let the crew out after each had sworn on the bible not to inform on them. the course was now altered, and they sailed towards scotland. the barrels of dollars were broken open and the coins placed in bags. in june they reached the island of barra, where gautier went ashore, wearing the late captain's green coat, and bought a large boat. next, they sailed to stornoway, where they arrived in july, and here they sank their schooner. the crew rowed ashore in the long-boat, sharing out the dollars as they went, using an old tin as a measure, each man getting , dollars as his share. their boat was smashed on the rocks when landing, but they got their plunder safely ashore and hid it amongst the stones on the beach. early next morning the mutineers were visited by the customs officer. after he had left, the cabin boy, a maltese, ran after him and told him the true story of the murders and robbery. a party of islanders was got together, the mutineers arrested and taken to edinburgh, where heaman and gautier were tried for piracy and murder, and on november th found guilty and condemned to death. they were both hanged on january th, , on the sands of leith, within the flood mark, and afterwards their bodies were delivered to dr. alexander munro, professor of anatomy in the university of edinburgh, to be publicly dissected by him. heath, peleg. one of william coward's crew. condemned to be hanged at boston in , but afterwards reprieved. heidon, captain. arrested for piracy in for having captured a flemish ship. this vessel he manned with thirteen scotchmen in addition to his own crew, and sailed off the coast of spain. here he took a prize containing a cargo of wine, which he carried to the island of bere in bantry bay. the wine was sold to lord o'sullivan. heidon now fitted up another ship, the _john of sandwich_. was wrecked in her on the island of alderney and heidon was arrested, but managed to escape in a small boat with some others of the pirates. henley, captain. in sailed from boston "bound for the rack," afterwards going to the red sea, where he plundered arab and malabar ships. herdue, captain. buccaneer. commanded a frigate of four guns, crew of forty men, at tortuga island, in . hernandez, augustus. hanged at kingston, jamaica, in . hernandez, juan. captured with nine other pirates by h.m. sloop-of-war _tyne_ and taken to jamaica. hanged on february th, , at kingston. herriott, david. master of the _adventure_, from jamaica, taken by teach in . he joined the pirates, and later, when major stede bonnet separated from teach, he took herriott to be his sailing-master. taken prisoner with bonnet and his crew of the _royal james_ by colonel rhet, at cape fear, north carolina, september th, . herriott and the boatswain, ignatius pell, turned king's evidence at the trial of the pirates held at charleston. on october th, bonnet and herriott escaped from prison, in spite of the fact that the latter had turned king's evidence. herriott was shot on sullivan island a few days later. hewett, william, or hewet, or hewit. of jamaica. one of major stede bonnet's crew. tried for piracy at charleston in , and hanged at white point on november th, and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. hide, daniel. of virginia. one of the crew of captain charles harris, who, with captain low, played havoc on the shipping off the american coast from new york to charleston. hanged at newport, rhode island, in july, , at the age of . hill, corporal john. in charge of the guard at fort royal, falmouth, maine, which all deserted one night, and went to sea with the pirate captain pound. killed at tarpaulin cove in . hilliard, john. was "chief man" of the company of captain bartholomew sharp on his "dangerous voyage" to the south seas. died on january nd, , of dropsy; buried at sea with the usual buccaneers' honours. hincher, dr. john. of edinburgh university. tried for piracy in july, , at newport, rhode island, but acquitted. this young doctor, his age was only , was taken off a prize by captain low against his will, to act as ship's surgeon with the pirates. hind, israel, or hynde. of bristol. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged at cape coast castle in , at the age of . hingson, john. one of wafer's party left behind and lost in the forest when dampier crossed the isthmus of darien on foot in . hitchens, robert. a devonshire man, born in the year . took to piracy early in life. sailed with the pirate captain heidon, and was wrecked on alderney in the year . arrested and tried for piracy, and was hanged in chains at low-water mark at st. martin's point, guernsey, in , at the age of . holding, anthony. one of john quelch's crew of the brigantine _charles_. tried for piracy at boston in . holford, captain. buccaneer. of jamaica. an old friend of the notorious pirate vane. in he happened to arrive in his ship at a small uninhabited island in the bay of honduras to find vane on shore and destitute. vane thought he would be saved by holford, but the latter was quite frank in refusing, saying: "i shan't trust you aboard my ship unless i carry you a prisoner, for i shall have you caballing with my men, knock me on the head, and run away with my ship a-pyrating." it was owing to holford that vane was eventually taken a prisoner to jamaica and there hanged. holland, captain richard. an irishman. commanded a spanish pirate vessel in the west indies in . the crew consisted of sixty spaniards, eighteen french, and eighteen english sailors. holland had originally belonged to the royal navy, but deserted from the _suffolk_ at naples, and took shelter in a convent in that city. in august, , holland's ship took as prizes the _john and mary_, the _prudent hannah of boston_, and the _dolphin_, of topsham, all on their way to virginia. from out of the _john and mary_ he took thirty-six men slaves, some gold dust, the captain's clothes, four great guns and small arms, and gallons of rum. hopkins, mr. buccaneer and apothecary. first lieutenant to captain dover (a doctor of physic) on board the _duchess_ privateer, of bristol. mr. hopkins was an apothecary by profession, not a sailor, but being a kinsman to the captain, no doubt was given promotion. he sailed from bristol on august nd, . hore, captain. about hore turned from a privateer into a pirate, and was very active and successful in taking prizes between new york and newport, occasionally sailing to madagascar to waylay ships of the east india company. hornigold, captain benjamin. commanded a sloop in and cruised off the guinea coast with teach, taking a big french guinea ship. he then sailed to the bahama islands, where, in , woodes rogers had just arrived with the offer of a pardon to all pirates who surrendered themselves. teach went off again "on the account," but hornigold surrendered. shortly afterwards hornigold was wrecked on a reef and drowned. how, thomas. a native of barnstaple in devon. one of captain bartholomew roberts's crew. condemned to death for piracy, but reprieved and sold to the royal african company to work on their plantations for seven years. howard, thomas. born in london, the son of a thames lighterman. sailing to jamaica, he deserted his ship and, with some companions of a like mind, stole a canoe and set off to the grand cayman islands, and there met with some buccaneers and pirates. joining with these, they took several vessels, lastly a well-armed spanish ship. in her they cruised off the coast of virginia, taking a large new england brigantine, of which howard was appointed quartermaster. their next prize was a fine virginian galley, twenty-four guns, crowded with convicts being transplanted to america. these passengers were only too willing to join the pirates. next, they sailed away to guinea, where they took numerous prizes. here they were attacked by a big portuguese ship of thirty-six guns, which they defeated. having by now got together a well appointed pirate fleet, they sailed round the cape of good hope to madagascar, the happy home of the south sea pirates. their ship, the _alexander_, was wrecked and lost on a reef, and howard, together with the english and dutch members of the crew, seized the treasure, and drove off the portuguese and spanish sailors and also the captain, and got to shore in a boat. they then broke up their ship, and lived for a while by fishing and hunting. on one of these hunting parties, the men ran away and left howard behind. howard was found by the king of anquala, who took care of him until he was picked up by a ship. later on, howard became captain of a fine vessel, the _prosperous_, thirty-six guns, which he and some other pirates had seized at madagascar. in her, howard went cruising, eventually in company with captain bowen, attacking a moorish fleet off st. john's island. howard followed the moorish ships up a river, and, after a fierce fight, seized the largest and richest prize, a ship containing upward of a million dollars worth of goods. howard, having now made a considerable fortune, retired from the piratical life and went to india, and there married a native woman and settled down. howard, who was a morose, sour kind of man, ill-treated his wife, and he was at length murdered by some of her relations. huggit, thomas. of london. hanged at newport, rhode island, in july, . age . hull, captain edward. commanded the _swallow_ "frigott" in which he sailed from boston in , and captured several french and dutch ships. he afterwards sold his vessels and went with his share of the plunder to england, where he settled down. hunter, andrew. one of captain lowther's crew. hanged at st. kitts on march th, . husk, john. one of blackbeard's crew in the _queen ann's revenge_. killed off north carolina in . hutnot, joseph. one of the crew of the notorious brigantine _charles_, commanded by captain quelch. tried for piracy at the star tavern, boston, in . hutt, captain george, or hout. buccaneer. an englishman who succeeded captain townley when the latter was killed during a gallant fight with three spanish galleons in near panama. ingram, gunner william. was one of captain anstis's crew in the _good fortune_ when that pirate took the _morning star_. after the prize had been converted to the pirates' use, ingram was appointed gunner. later, when ingram came to be tried for piracy, evidence was produced to prove that he had joined the pirates of his own free will, and, in fact, had on all occasions been one of the forwardest in any action, and altogether "a very resolute hardened fellow." he was hanged. ireland, john. pirate. "a wicked and ill-disposed person," according to the royal warrant of king william iii. granted to "our truly and dearly beloved captain william kidd" to go in the year to seize this and other pirates who were doing great mischief to the ships trading off the coast of north america. irvine, captain. one of the last pirates in the atlantic. very active in the early part of the nineteenth century. jackman, captain. buccaneer. in took part with morris and morgan in a very successful raid on central america, ascending the river tabasco in the province of campeachy with only men. led by indians by a detour of miles, they surprised and sacked the town of villa de mosa. dampier describes this small town as "standing on the starboard side of the river, inhabited chiefly by indians, with some spaniards." on their return to the mouth of the river, jackman's party found the spaniards had seized their ship, and some three hundred of them attacked the pirates, but the spaniards were easily beaten off. the freebooters next attacked rio garta, and took it with only thirty men, crossed the gulf of honduras to rest on the island of roatan, and then proceeded to the port of truxillo, which they plundered. they next sailed down the mosquito coast, burning and pillaging as they went. anchoring in monkey bay, they ascended the san juan river in canoes one hundred miles to lake nicaragua. the pirates described the lake of nicaragua as being a veritable paradise, which, indeed, it must have been prior to their visit. hiding by day amongst the many islands and rowing by night, on the fifth night they landed near the city of granada, just one year after mansfield's visit. the buccaneers marched right into the central square of the city without being observed by the spaniards, who were taken completely by surprise, so that the english were soon masters of the city, and for sixteen hours they plundered it. some , indians, driven to rebellion by the cruelty and oppression of the spaniards, accompanied the marauders and wanted to massacre the prisoners, particularly "the religious," but when they understood that the buccaneers were not remaining in granada, they thought better of it, having, no doubt, a shrewd inkling of what to expect in the future when their rescuers had left. jackson, captain william. buccaneer. in he gathered together a crew of more than a thousand buccaneers in the islands of st. kitts and barbadoes, and sailed with these in three ships to the spanish main, plundering maracaibo and truxillo. on march th, , jackson's little fleet dropped anchor in the harbour, what was afterwards to be known as kingston, in the island of jamaica, which was then still in the possession of spain. landing of his men, he attacked the town of st. jago de la vega, which he took after a hard fight and with the loss of some forty of his men. for sparing the town from fire he received ransom from the spaniards of beeves, , pounds of cassava bread, and , pieces of eight. the english sailors were so delighted by the beauty of the island that in one night twenty-three of them deserted to the spaniards. jackson, nathaniel. one of captain edward teach's crew. killed at north carolina in . james, captain. buccaneer. belonged to jamaica and tortuga. in was in command of a frigate, the _american_ (six guns, crew of seventy men). james, captain. a buccaneer captain who was in temporarily appointed "president" of tortuga island by the providence company, while their regular governor, captain flood, was in london, clearing himself of charges preferred against him by the planters. james, captain. about commanded a pirate brigantine off madagascar. sailed for some time in company with a new york pirate called ort van tyle. james, charles. one of captain john quelch's crew taken in the _larimore_ galley at salem. tried for piracy at boston in . jamison, _alias_ monacre nickola. born at greenock in scotland, the son of a rich cloth merchant, he received a polite education, spoke several languages, and was described as being of gentlemanly deportment. he served as sailing-master to captain jonnia when he took the schooner _exertion_. the captain and crew were eventually saved by nickola. years afterwards nickola went to boston, and lived with captain lincoln of the _exertion_, and made a living by fishing for mackerel in the warm season, and during the winter by teaching navigation to young gentlemen. janquais, captain. a french filibuster of san domingo. his ship, _la dauphine_, carried thirty guns and a crew of men. jefferys, benjamin. of bristol. taken by roberts in the _norman_ galley in april, . roberts allowed those of the crew who did not wish to join the pirates to return to the _norman_, but jefferys had made such friends on the pirate ship that he was too drunk to go, and also was abusive in his cups, telling his hosts there was not one man amongst them. for this he received six lashes with the cat-o'-nine-tails from every member of the crew, "which disordered him for some weeks." but jefferys eventually proved himself a brisk and willing lad, and was made bos'on's mate. he was hanged a year later at the age of . jennings. a welshman who in was settled on the barbary coast with some thirty other british pirates. jennings, captain. this welsh pirate had been a man of good position, education, and property before he took to piracy, which he did for the love of the life and not from necessity. he was held in high esteem by his fellow-pirates at their stronghold in the bahamas. when notice was brought of king george's pardon in , a meeting was held of all the pirates at which jennings presided. after much discussion, jennings boldly gave out that he himself meant to surrender, whereupon some hundred and fifty other pirates declared their intention of doing likewise. on the new governor's arrival from england they received their certificates, though the greater part of them soon went back to piracy, or, to quote the expressive captain johnson, "returned again like the dog to the vomit." jobson, richard, or cobson or gopson. his original calling was that of a druggist's assistant in london. he combined piracy with the study of divinity. he was one of dampier's party which crossed the isthmus of darien in , and was left behind with wafer, who tells us in his book that gopson "was an ingenious man and a good scholar, and had with him a greek testament which he frequently read and would translate extempore into english to such of the company as were disposed to hear him." after great sufferings in the tropical jungle in the wet season, jobson and his friends reached the "north sea" to find an english buccaneer vessel lying at anchor off the shore. on rowing out to the ship the canoe upset, and jobson and his gun were thrown overboard, but the former was rescued, though he died a few days later on board the vessel owing to the exposure he had been subjected to. he was buried in the sand at le sounds cay with full honours--that is, a volley of guns and colours flown at half-mast. jocard, le capitaine. a french filibuster who in had his headquarters in san domingo. he commanded the _irondelle_, a ship armed with eighteen guns and a crew of men. johnson, captain. a successful and very bloody pirate. of jamaica. immediately after the publication of peace by sir thomas lynch, governor of jamaica in , which included a general pardon to all privateers, johnson fled from port royal with some ten followers, and shortly after, meeting with a spanish ship of eighteen guns, managed to take her and kill the captain and fourteen of the crew. gradually collecting together a party of a hundred or more english and french desperadoes he plundered many ships round the cuban coast. tiring of his quarrelsome french companions he sailed to jamaica to make terms with the governor, and anchored in morant bay, but his ship was blown ashore by a hurricane. johnson was immediately arrested by governor lynch, who ordered colonel modyford to assemble the justices and to proceed to trial and immediate execution. lynch had had bitter experiences of trying pirates, and knew that the sooner they were hanged the better. but modyford, like many other jamaicans, felt a strong sympathy for the pirates, and he managed to get johnson acquitted in spite of the fact that johnson "confessed enough to hang a hundred honester persons." it is interesting to read that half an hour after the dismissal of the court johnson "came to drink with his judges." governor lynch, now thoroughly roused, took the matter into his own hands. he again placed johnson under arrest, called a meeting of the council, from which he dismissed colonel modyford, and managed to have the former judgment reversed. the pirate was again tried, and in order that no mistake might happen, lynch himself presided over the court. johnson, as before, made a full confession, but was condemned and immediately executed, and was, writes lynch, "as much regretted as if he had been as pious and as innocent as one of the primitive martyrs." this second trial was absolutely illegal, and lynch was reproved by the king for his rash and high-handed conduct. johnson, captain ben. when a lad he had served as a midshipman in an east indiaman, the _asia_, but having been caught red-handed robbing the purser of brandy and wine, he was flogged and sent to serve as a sailor before the mast. in , while in the red sea, he deserted his ship and entered the service of the sultan of ormus. finding johnson to be a clever sailor, the sultan appointed him admiral of his pirate fleet of fourteen vessels. the young admiral became a convert to brahminism, and was ceremoniously blessed by the arch-priests of the temple. amongst his crew johnson had some two hundred other englishmen, who also became followers of brahmin, each of whom was allowed, when in port, a dancing girl from the temple. johnson proved a most capable and bloodthirsty pirate, playing havoc with the shipping of the red sea, taking also several towns on the coast, and putting to death his prisoners, often after cruel tortures. his boldest exploit was to attack the fortified town of busrah. this he did, putting the sheik and most of the inhabitants to death, and taking back to his master, the sultan, vast plunder of diamonds, pearls, and gold. on another occasion johnson landed his crews on the island of omalee, at the entrance to the persian gulf, a favourite place of pilgrimage, and raided the temples of the indian god buddha. putting to death all the two thousand priests, he cut off the noses and slit the upper lips of seven hundred dancing girls, only sparing a few of the best looking ones, whom he carried away with him along with plunder worth half a million rupees. on their way back to the red sea the pirates met with an english east indiaman, which they took and plundered, and johnson, remembering his previous sufferings in the same service, murdered the whole crew. shortly afterwards johnson and ten of his english officers contrived to run away from their master, the sultan, in his best and fastest lateen vessel, with an enormous booty. sailing up to the head of the persian gulf, johnson managed to reach constantinople with his share of the plunder, worth £ , . with this as an introduction, he was hospitably received, and was made a bashaw, and at the end of a long life of splendour died a natural death. johnson, captain henry, _alias_ "henriques the englishman." a west indian pirate, born in the north of ireland. commanded the _two brothers_, a rhode island-built sloop, eighteen guns, crew of ninety, mostly spaniards. on march th, , he took the _john and jane_ (edward burt, master), from jamaica, off swan island. the _john and jane_ was armed with eight carriage and ten swivel guns, and a crew of only twenty-five men. after a gallant resistance for five hours the pirates boarded and took the english ship. the few survivors were stripped naked, and preparations made to hang them in pairs. this was prevented by captain johnson and an english pirate called echlin. there was a mrs. groves, a passenger, in the _john and jane_, whose husband and the english surgeon had both been killed at the first onslaught of the pirates. this poor lady was hidden in the hold of the ship during the action, and was only informed afterwards of the death of her husband. the pirates now dragged her on deck, "stript her in a manner naked," and carried her as a prize to the spanish captain, pedro poleas, who immediately took her to the "great cabin and there with horrible oaths and curses insolently assaulted her chastity." her loud cries of distress brought captain johnson into the cabin, who, seeing what was on hand, drew his pistol and threatened to blow out the brains of any man who attempted the least violence upon her. he next commanded everything belonging to mrs. groves to be returned to her, which was done--including her clothing. the gallant conduct of johnson is the more surprising and pleasing since he had the reputation of being as bloody and ruthless a pirate as ever took a ship or cut an innocent throat. he only had one hand, and used to fire his piece with great skill, laying the barrel on his stump, and drawing the trigger with his right hand. in all the american "plantations" there were rewards offered for him alive or dead. the end of this "penny-dreadful" pirate is unrecorded, but was probably a violent one, as this type of pirate seldom, if ever, died in his bed. johnson, isaac. one of captain quelch's crew. tried for piracy at the star tavern at boston in . johnson, jacob. taken prisoner by captain roberts out of the _king solomon_, he joined the pirates. johnson, john, or jaynson. born "nigh lancaster." taken out of the _king solomon_. one of roberts's crew. hanged in at the age of . johnson, marcus. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged in . stated in his death warrant to be a native of smyrna. died at the age of . johnson, robert. from whydah in west africa. tried for piracy with the rest of captain roberts's crew, and hanged in at the age of . at his trial he pleaded that he did not enter with the pirates of his own free will, and called witnesses to prove that at the time he was captured he was so very drunk that he had to be hoisted out of his own ship, the _jeremiah and ann_, into the pirate ship in tackles. johnston, thomas. of boston. known as "the limping privateer." sailed with captain pound. wounded in the jaw in the fight at tarpaulin cove. tried for piracy at boston, and hanged on january th, . jones, captain paul. probably few persons, even in great britain, would to-day call paul jones a pirate, but this was not always the case. in all books on pirates written shortly after the american war, paul jones figured as a notorious character. this famous privateer, let us call him, was born at kirkcudbright in scotland in , the son of mr. paul, head gardener to lord selkirk, and was christened john paul. so much has been written about this man in books, easily procurable for reference, that little need be said about him here. starting life as a sailor before the mast, he quickly showed abilities which led to his promotion to the rank of mate in an english ship trading in the west india islands, and later he was made master. on the declaration of war with america, jones joined the rebels, and was given command of a privateer, and from he became a terror to english shipping around the british isles. one of his most startling exploits was his surprise visit in his ship, the _ranger_, to his old home with the object of kidnapping his former employer, lord selkirk. on september rd, , he fought his famous action off scarborough against a british convoy from the baltic under the command of captain pearson, in the _serapis_, and captain piercy in the _countess of scarborough_. jones had left the _ranger_ for a frigate called the _bonne homme richard_ of forty guns and a crew of three hundred and seventy men, and had also under his command four other ships of war. a furious engagement took place, the utmost bravery being shown on either side; the english ships at last being compelled to surrender, but not until the enemy had themselves suffered fearful damage to both their crews and ships. after the conclusion of peace, paul jones, once the darling of two continents, faded into obscurity and even poverty, and died in paris in the year at the age of . jones. seaman. a mariner. "a brisk young fellow" who served with captain bartholomew roberts's crew. on one occasion captain roberts had reason to think that one of his men had spoken disrespectfully to him, so, as a warning to the rest, he killed him. the dead man's greatest friend was jones, who, hearing what had happened, had a fierce fight with roberts. this severe breach of discipline was punished by jones receiving two lashes on the back from every man on board. jones after this sailed with captain anstis in the _good fortune_. jones, thomas. found to be "not guilty" at a trial for piracy at newport, rhode island, in . one of captain charles harris's crew. age . jones, william. tried for piracy at boston, . jones, william. of london. age . hanged at rhode island, . jonnia, captain. a spaniard. commanded in a fast schooner, carrying a crew of forty men, armed with muskets, cutlasses, blunderbusses, long knives, dirks, two carronades--one a twelve, the other a six-pounder. they had aboard with them three mexican negresses. the pirates took and plundered the boston schooner _exertion_, on december th, , the crew being considerably drunk at the time. the plunder they took to principe in the island of cuba. the pirates took everything from their prisoners, even their clothes, but as a parting gift sent the captain a copy of the "family prayer book" by the rev. mr. brooks. the prisoners were marooned on a small mangrove quay, but they eventually escaped. jonnia and some of his crew were afterwards captured by an english ship and taken to kingston, jamaica, and there hanged. jose, miguel. hanged at kingston, jamaica, in february, . this old man's last words on the scaffold were: "no he robado, no he matado ningune, muero innocente." judson, randall. one of captain roderigo's crew. tried for piracy at cambridge, massachusetts, in june, , and sentenced to be hanged; "presently after the lecture," which was delivered by the rev. increase mather. afterwards pardoned, but fined and banished from the colony. kellwanton. a notorious pirate in the sixteenth century. was captured in the isle of man in . kennedy, captain. began life as a pickpocket and housebreaker in london. he was captain roberts's lieutenant, and was afterwards given command of a prize, the _rover_. kennedy could never, even when a captain, forget his old trade. it is recorded that he stole a black suit of clothes from the captain of the _bird_ at sierra leone in . these he put on with the captain's best wig and sword. he then swaggered about on board in these till his fellow-pirates drenched him with buckets of claret, so that he had to disrobe and throw the garments overboard. owing to a quarrel with captain roberts, kennedy went off in his ship, the _rover_, and sailed to barbadoes. his first prize, a boston ship, was a distinct novelty, being commanded by one captain knot, a quaker, who lived up to the principles of his sect by allowing no pistol, sword, or cutlass, or other weapon aboard his vessel. the crew, finding kennedy had no knowledge whatever of navigation, threatened to throw him overboard, but because he was a man of great personal courage they did not in the end carry out their threat. the crew next decided to give over piracy and to set sail for ireland. this island they altogether missed through bad navigation, and they ran the ship ashore on the north of scotland. the crew landed and passed themselves off as shipwrecked mariners, but owing to their drinking and rioting in each village they came to, the whole countryside was soon roused. kennedy slipped away and reached ireland. having soon spent all his ill-gotten gains in dublin, he came to deptford and set up a house of ill-fame, adding occasionally to his income from this source by a little highwaymanry. one of the ladies of his house at deptford, to be revenged for some slight or other, gave information to the watch, and kennedy was imprisoned at marshalsea and afterwards tried for robbery and piracy. kennedy turned king's evidence against some of his old associates, but this did not save his neck, for he was condemned and hanged at execution dock. kheyr-ed-din. corsair. brother of the famous barbarossa. when the latter was defeated and killed by the spaniards, kheyr-ed-din sent an ambassador to constantinople, begging for help to protect algiers. he was appointed governor of algiers by the sultan of turkey in . now greatly increased both in ships and power, he scoured the whole mediterranean for italian and spanish prizes. he raided the spanish coast and carried off slaves from the balearic islands. he next took and destroyed the fortress of algiers, and employed , christian slaves to build a new one and also a great mole to protect the harbour. invited by solyman the magnificent to help him against the christian admiral andria doria, in august, , he sailed from algiers with his fleet, being joined on the way by another noted corsair, delizuff. a year afterwards, at the age of , kheyr-ed-din set out from constantinople with a vast fleet, sacking towns and burning all christian ships that were so unfortunate as to fall in his way. he returned to the bosphorus with huge spoil and , prisoners. he sacked sardinia, then sailed to tunis, which he vanquished. charles v. of spain now began to collect a large fleet and an army of , men and sailed to tunis. a fierce fight followed; the christians broke into the town, massacred the inhabitants and rescued some , christian slaves. kheyr-ed-din escaped with a few followers, but soon was in command of a fleet of pirate galleys once more. a terrific but undecisive naval battle took place off prevesa between the mohammedans and the christians, the fleet of the latter being under the command of andrea doria; and kheyr-ed-din died shortly afterwards at constantinople at a great age. kidd, captain william, sometimes robert kidd or kid. in the whole history of piracy there is no name that has so taken the world's fancy than has that of william kidd. and yet, if he be judged by his actions as a pirate, he must be placed amongst the second- or even third-rate masters of that craft. he took but two or three ships, and these have been, after two hundred years, proved to be lawful prizes taken in his legal capacity as a privateer. kidd was born at greenock in scotland about the year , and was the son of the rev. john kidd. of his early life little record is left, but we know that in august, , he arrived at st. nevis in the west indies, in command of a privateer of sixteen guns. in , while kidd was on shore, his crew ran away with his ship, which was not surprising, as most of his crew were old pirates. but that kidd was an efficient seaman and a capable captain is shown by the number of times he was given the command of different privateer vessels, both by the government of new york and by privateer owners. in kidd was in london, and on october th signed the articles which were to prove so fatal for him. in january, , king william iii. issued to his "beloved friend william kidd" a commission to apprehend certain pirates, particularly thomas tew, of rhode island, thomas wake, and william maze, of new york, john ireland, and "all other pirates, free-booters, and sea rovers of what nature soever." this privateer enterprise was financed chiefly by lord bellomont, but the other adventurers (on shore and in safety) were the lord chancellor; the earl of orford, the first lord of the admiralty; the earl of romney and the duke of shrewsbury, secretaries of state; robert livingston, esq., of new york; and lastly, captain kidd himself. the ship the _adventure_ galley was bought and fitted up, and kidd sailed away in her to suppress piracy, particularly on the coast of america. nothing was heard of him till august, , when ugly rumours began to get about of piracies committed by kidd in the indian ocean. in december of the same year a general pardon was offered to all pirates who should surrender themselves, with two exceptions--namely, captain avery and captain kidd. in may, , kidd suddenly appeared in a small vessel at new york, with rich booty. his chief patron, lord bellomont, was now governor, and was placed in the most awkward position of having to carry out his orders and arrest kidd for piracy and send him in chains to england in h.m.s. _advice_, which ship had been sent specially to new york to carry back kidd, bradish, and other pirates to england. the trial of kidd proved a scandal, for someone had to suffer as scapegoat for the aristocratic company privateers, and the lot fell to the luckless kidd. kidd was charged with piracy and with murder. the first charge of seizing two ships of the great mogul could have been met by the production of two documents which kidd had taken out of these ships, and which, he claimed, proved that the ships were sailing under commissions issued by the french east india company, and made them perfectly lawful prizes. these commissions kidd had most foolishly handed over to lord bellomont, and they could not be produced at the trial, although they had been exhibited before the house of commons a little while previously. it is an extraordinary and tragic fact that these two documents, so vital to kidd, were discovered only lately in the public records office--too late, by some years, to save an innocent man's life. as it happened, the charge of which kidd was hanged for was murder, and ran thus: "being moved and seduced by the instigations of the devil he did make an assault in and upon william moore upon the high seas with a certain wooden bucket, bound with iron hoops, of the value of eight pence, giving the said william moore one mortal bruise of which the aforesaid william moore did languish and die." this aforesaid william moore was gunner in the _adventure_ galley, and was mutinous, and kidd, as captain, was perfectly justified in knocking him down and even of killing him; but as the court meant kidd to "swing," this was quite good enough for finding him guilty. the unfortunate prisoner was executed at wapping on may rd, , and his body afterwards hanged in chains at tilbury. [illustration: a pirate being hanged at execution dock, wapping. to face p. .] a popular ballad was sung to commemorate the life and death of kidd, who, for some reason, was always called robert kidd by the populace. it consists of no less than twenty-four verses, and we here give fifteen of them: the ballad of captain kidd my name was robert kidd, when i sailed, when i sailed, my name was robert kidd, when i sailed, my name was robert kidd, god's laws i did forbid, and so wickedly i did, when i sailed. my parents taught me well, when i sailed, when i sailed, my parents taught me well, when i sailed, my parents taught me well, to shun the gates of hell, but 'gainst them i rebelled, when i sailed. i'd a bible in my hand, when i sailed, when i sailed, i'd a bible in my hand, when i sailed, i'd a bible in my hand, by my father's great command, and sunk it in the sand, when i sailed. i murdered william moore, as i sailed, as i sailed, i murdered william moore, as i sailed, i murdered william moore, and laid him in his gore, not many leagues from shore, as i sailed. i was sick and nigh to death, when i sailed, when i sailed, i was sick and nigh to death, when i sailed, i was sick and nigh to death, and i vowed at every breath, to walk in wisdom's ways, as i sailed. i thought i was undone, as i sailed, as i sailed, i thought i was undone, as i sailed, i thought i was undone, and my wicked glass had run, but health did soon return, as i sailed. my repentance lasted not, as i sailed, as i sailed, my repentance lasted not, as i sailed, my repentance lasted not, my vows i soon forgot, damnation was my lot, as i sailed. i spyed the ships from france, as i sailed, as i sailed, i spyed the ships of france, as i sailed, i spyed the ships from france, to them i did advance, and took them all by chance, as i sailed. i spyed the ships of spain, as i sailed, as i sailed, i spyed the ships of spain, as i sailed, i spyed the ships of spain, i fired on them amain, 'till most of them was slain, as i sailed. i'd ninety bars of gold, as i sailed, as i sailed, i'd ninety bars of gold, as i sailed, i'd ninety bars of gold, and dollars manifold, with riches uncontrolled, as i sailed. thus being o'er-taken at last, i must die, i must die, thus being o'er-taken at last, i must die, thus being o'er-taken at last, and into prison cast, and sentence being passed, i must die. farewell, the raging main, i must die, i must die, farewell, the raging main, i must die, farewell, the raging main, to turkey, france and spain, i shall n'er see you again, i must die. to execution dock i must go, i must go, to execution dock i must go, to execution dock, will many thousands flock, but i must bear the shock, and must die. come all ye young and old, see me die, see me die, come all ye young and old, see me die, come all ye young and old, you're welcome to my gold, for by it i've lost my soul, and must die. take warning now by me, for i must die, for i must die, take warning now by me, for i must die, take warning now by me, and shun bad company, lest you come to hell with me, for i die. killing, james. one of major stede bonnet's crew, who gave evidence against him at his trial at charleston in . king, charles. attempted to escape in the _larimore_ galley, but was captured and brought into salem. tried at boston with the rest of quelch's crew in june, . king, francis. one of captain quelch's crew captured in the _larimore_ galley by major sewall, and brought into salem harbour on june th, . tried at boston and condemned to be hanged. was reprieved while standing on the gallows. king, john. one of captain quelch's crew taken out of the _larimore_ galley. tried at boston in june, . king, matthew. of jamaica. one of major stede bonnet's crew. was hanged at charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. kneeves, peter. of exeter in devon. sailed with captain charles harris, and was tried for piracy with the rest of his crew at rhode island in . hanged at newport at the age of . knight, captain w. buccaneer. in knight was cruising off the coast of peru and chile with swan, townley, and davis. at the end of that year, having got a fair quantity of plunder, he sailed round the horn to the west indies. knight, christopher. one of captain coward's crew. tried for piracy at boston in january, , and found guilty, but afterwards reprieved. knot, captain. an old massachusetts pirate who retired from the sea and was settled in boston in . his wife gave information to the governor, the earl of bellomont, of the whereabouts of a pirate called gillam, who was "wanted." koxinga. his real name was kuo-hsing yeh, koxinga being the portuguese version. the son of a chinese pirate, cheng chih-lung, by a japanese mother, he was born in . from early youth koxinga was inspired with a hatred of the manchus, who had imprisoned his father. the young pirate soon became so successful in his raids along the coast of china that the emperor resorted to the extraordinary expedient of ordering the inhabitants of more than eighty seaboard towns to migrate ten miles inland, after destroying their homes. there can be no doubt that koxinga was a thorough-going cut-throat pirate, worked solely for his own ambitious ends and to satisfy his revengeful feelings, but the fact that he fought against the alien conquerors, the dutch in formosa, and defeated them, caused him to be regarded as a hero pirate. his father was executed at peking, which only increased his bitterness against the reigning house. koxinga made himself what was, to all intents and purposes, the ruler of formosa, and the island became, through him, part of the chinese empire. after his death, which took place in , he received official canonization. the direct descendant of koxinga, the pirate, is one of the very few hereditary nobles in china. lacy, abraham. of devonshire. hanged at the age of at rhode island in . du laerquerac, captain john. this breton pirate was captured in by a bristol seaman called john wynter. du laerquerac, with other pirates from brittany, had been holding up ships on their way to the great fair of st. james at bristol. on being arrested, he denied that he had "spoiled" any english ships, but on being further pressed to confess, admitted that he had taken a few odds and ends, such as ropes, sailors' clothes, some wine, fish, a gold crown in money and eleven silver halfpence, as well as four daggers and a "couverture." lafitte, captain jean. jean and his brother first appeared in new orleans in the year . though blacksmiths by profession, they soon took to smuggling goods brought by privateersmen and pirates. the headquarters of this trade was on the island of grande terre in barataria bay. this island was inhabited and governed by ex-pirates; one grambo being the acknowledged chief, until he was shot by jean lafitte. in , the baratarians were denounced by the governor of louisiana as pirates. this made no difference to the pirate smugglers, who grew more and more rich and insolent. the governor then secured an indictment against jean and his brother, pierre, who retained the very best and most expensive lawyers in the state to defend them, and they were acquitted. in , war was declared with england, and jean was invited by the english to fight on their side, with the offer of a commission in the navy and a large sum of money. he refused this, and eventually general jackson accepted his offer of the services of himself and his baratarians, who proved invaluable in the battle of orleans, serving the guns. he disappeared completely after the war until , when a british sloop of war captured a pirate ship with a crew of sixty men under the command of the famous lafitte, who was amongst those who fell fighting. lagarde, le capitaine. a french filibuster of san domingo, who in commanded a small ship, _la subtille_ (crew of thirty men and two guns). lambert, john. one of captain john quelch's crew. hanged on charles river, boston side, on friday, june th, . in a broadside published at boston in july of the same year, lambert's conduct on the gallows is described thus: "he appeared much hardened and pleaded much on his innocency. he desired all men to beware of bad company and seemed to be in great agony near his execution." lander, daniel. one of captain pound's crew. landresson, captain michel, _alias_ breha. filibuster. accompanied pain in his expedition against st. augustine in . he was a constant source of annoyance to the jamaicans. his ship was called _la trompeuse_, but must not be confused with the famous ship of that name belonging to hamlin. landresson, when he had got a good booty of gold, jewels, cocoa, etc., would go to boston to dispose of it to the godly merchants of new england. in a royal proclamation was published in massachusetts, warning all governors that no succour or aid was to be given to any of the outlaws, but, in spite of this, landresson was received with open arms and the proclamations in the streets torn down. in he was at san domingo, in command of _la fortune_ (crew of men and fourteen guns). at this time the filibuster was disguised under the _alias_ of le capitaine breha. captured in by the armada de barlorento, and hanged with several of his companions. lane, captain. in lane was one of captain england's crew when he took the _mercury_ off the coast of west africa. the _mercury_ was fitted up as a pirate ship, named the _queen ann's revenge_, and lane was voted captain of her. lane left captain england and sailed to brazil, where he took several portuguese ships and did a great deal of mischief. larimore, captain thomas, or larramore. commanded the _larimore_ galley. in was with the pirate quelch and several other pirates, and, among other prizes, seized a portuguese ship, the _portugal_, from which they took gold dust, bar and coined gold, and other treasure, and at the same time "acted divers villainous murders." for these larimore was tried, condemned and hanged at boston, june th, . lawrence, nicholas. tried for piracy with the rest of quelch's crew at boston in . lawrence, richard. one of captain john quelch's crew. tried for piracy at boston in . lawson, edward. born in the isle of man. one of captain harris's crew. hanged at newport, rhode island, in july, , at the age of . l'escayer. a french filibuster. in , in company with grogniet, davis, and swan, sacked paita and guayaquil and blockaded panama. afterwards sailed with townley and his english pirates and again plundered guayaquil. suffered a severe defeat at the hands of the spaniards at quibo, afterwards being rescued by townley, with whom he and his crew of buccaneers sacked granada in nicaragua. lessone, captain. french filibuster. in he joined sharp, coxon, and other english buccaneers in an attack on porto bello. putting men into canoes, they landed some sixty miles from the city and marched for four days, arriving in a weak state through hardship and lack of food, but in spite of this they took the city on february th, . levercott, sam. hanged in at the island of st. kitts, with the rest of captain lowther's crew. levit, john. of north carolina. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged at white point, charleston, south carolina, on november th, . lewis, james. after being a prisoner in france, he managed to reach spain, and was with avery when he seized the ship _charles the second_. tried for piracy at the old bailey in and hanged. lewis, nicholas. one of captain george lowther's crew. hanged at st. kitts on march th, . lewis, william. the greatest triumph and most important exploit of this pirate was the attacking, and eventually taking, of a powerful french ship of twenty-four guns. lewis enjoyed a longer career than most of the brethren, and by he was already one of the leading piratical lights of nassau, and his end did not come till ten years later. in , he spent several months on the coast of south carolina and virginia, trading with the inhabitants the spoils he had taken from vessels in the atlantic. he learnt his trade under the daring pirate bannister, who was brought into port royal, hanging dead from his own yard-arm. on this occasion, lewis and another boy were triced up to the corvette's mizzen-peak like "two living flags." lewis, amongst other accomplishments, was a born linguist, and could speak with fluency in several languages, even the dialect of the mosquito indians. he was once captured by the spaniards, and taken to havana, but escaped with a few other prisoners in a canoe, seized a piragua, and with this captured a sloop employed in the turtle trade, and by gradually taking larger and larger prizes, lewis soon found himself master of a fine ship and a crew of more than fifty men. he renamed her the _morning star_, and made her his flagship. on one occasion when chasing a vessel off the carolina coast, his fore and main topmasts were carried away. lewis, in a frenzy of excitement, clambered up the main top, tore out a handful of his hair, which he tossed into the wind, crying: "good devil, take this till i come." the ship, in spite of her damaged rigging, gained on the other ship, which they took. lewis's sailors, superstitious at the best of times, considered this intimacy of their captain with satan a little too much, and soon afterwards one of the frenchmen aboard murdered lewis in his sleep. leyton, francis. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged for piracy at newport, rhode island, on july th, . age . lima, manuel. taken by h.m. sloop _tyne_, and hanged at kingston, jamaica, in february, . linch, captain. buccaneer. of port royal, jamaica. in lionel wafer, tiring of the life of a civil surgeon at port royal, left jamaica to go on a voyage with captains linch and cook to the spanish main. ling, captain william. a notorious pirate of new providence. captured and hanged shortly after accepting king george's pardon of . linisler, thomas. of lancashire. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged at rhode island in at the age of . lithgow, captain. famous in his day for his activities in the west indies, this pirate had his headquarters at new providence in the bahamas. liver, william, _alias_ evis. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged for piracy at charleston, south carolina, in . lo, mrs. hon-cho. this chinese woman pirate was the widow of another noted pirate who was killed in . she took command after the death of her husband, and soon became a terror to the countryside about pakhoi, carrying on the work in the best traditions of the craft, being the admiral of some sixty ocean-going junks. although both young and pretty, she won a reputation for being a thorough-going murderess and pirate. during the late revolution, mrs. lo joined general wong min-tong's forces, and received the rank of full colonel. after the war, she resumed her piracies, occasionally for the sake of variety, surprising and sacking a village or two, and from these she usually carried away some fifty or sixty girls to sell as slaves. her career ended quite suddenly in october, . lodge, thomas. poet, buccaneer, and physician. born about , he was the son of sir thomas lodge, grocer, and lord mayor of london in . he was educated at merchant taylors' school and trinity college, oxford. the poet engaged in more than one freebooting expedition to spanish waters between and , and he tells us that he accompanied captain clarke in an attack on the azores and the canaries. "having," he tells his friend lord hunsdon, "with captain clarke made a voyage to the islands of terceras and the canaries, to beguile the time with labour, i writ this book, rough, as hatched in the storms of the ocean, and feathered in the surges of many perilous seas." on august th, , lodge sailed from plymouth with sir thomas cavendish in the _desire_, a galleon of tons. the freebooters sailed to brazil and attacked the town of santa, while the people were at mass. they remained there from december th until january nd, . some of the englishmen, of whom lodge was one, took up their quarters in the college of the jesuits, and this literary buccaneer spent his time amongst the books in the library of the fathers. leaving brazil, the small fleet sailed south to the straits of magellan. while storm-bound amongst the icy cliffs of patagonia, lodge wrote his arcadian romance "margarite of america." from the point of view of plunder, this expedition was a dismal failure, and the _desire_ returned and reached the coast of ireland on june th, . the crew had been reduced to sixteen, and of these only five were even in tolerable health. at the age of , lodge deserted literature and studied medicine, taking his degree of doctor of physics at avignon in . his last original work was a "treatise on the plague," published in . after practising medicine with great success for many years, thomas lodge died, it is said, of the plague, in the year , at the age of . long, zachariah. of the province of holland. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged at white point, charleston, in , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. lopez, john. of oporto. this portuguese pirate sailed in the _royal james_, and was hanged with the rest of the crew at charleston, south carolina, on november th, . lord, john. a soldier. deserted from fort loyal, falmouth, maine. killed at tarpaulin cove in . low, captain edward, or loe. born in westminster, he began in very early life to plunder the boys of their farthings, and as he grew bigger used to gamble with the footmen who waited in the lobby of the house of commons. while still quite small one of his elder brothers used to carry little edward hidden in a basket on his back, and when in a crowd the future pirate would, from above, snatch the hats and even the wigs off the heads of passing citizens and secret them in the basket and so get away with them. the low family were the originators of this ingenious and fascinating trick, and for a time it was most successful, until the people of the city took to tying on their hats and wigs with bands to prevent their sudden removal. when he grew up, ned went to boston and earned an honest living as a rigger, but after a while he tired of this and sailed in a sloop to honduras to steal log-wood. here low quarrelled with his captain, tried to shoot him, and then went off in an open boat with twelve other men, and the very next day they took a small vessel, in which they began their "war against all the world." low soon happened to meet with captain lowther, the pirate, and the two agreed to sail in company. this partnership lasted until may th, , when they took a prize, a brigantine from boston, which low went into with a crew of forty-four men. this vessel they armed with two guns, four swivels, and six quarter-casks of powder, and saying good-bye to lowther, sailed off on their own account. a week later a prize fell into their hands, which was the first of several. things soon became too hot for low along the american coast and the west indies, as several men-of-war were searching for him; so he sailed to the azores, taking on his way a big french ship of thirty-four guns, and later, in the harbour of st. michael, he seized several vessels which he found at anchor there. here they burnt the french ship, but let the crew all go, except the cook, who, they said, "being a greasy fellow would fry well in the fire, so the poor man was bound to the main mast and burnt in the ship to the no small derision of low and his mirmidons." low and his crew now began to treat their prisoners with great brutality. however, on one occasion the biter was bitten. it happened that one of the drunken crew, playfully cutting at a prisoner, missed his mark and accidentally slashed captain low across his lower jaw, the sword opening his cheek and laying bare his teeth. the surgeon was called, who at once stitched up the wound, but low found some fault with the operation, as well he might, seeing that "the surgeon was tollerably drunk" at the time. the surgeon's professional pride was outraged by this criticism of his skill by a layman, and he showed his annoyance in a ready, if unprofessional, manner, by striking "low such a blow with his fists, that broke out all the stitches, and then bid him sew up his chops himself and be damned, so that the captain made a very pitiful figure for some time after." low took a large number of prizes, but he was not a sympathetic figure, and the list of his prizes and brutalities soon becomes irksome reading. low, still in the _fancy_, and accompanied by captain harris in the _ranger_, then sailed back to the west indies, and later to south carolina, where he took several prizes, one the _amsterdam merchant_ (captain willard), belonging to new england, and as low never missed an opportunity of showing his dislike of all new englanders, he sent the captain away with both his ears cut off and with various other wounds about his body. low and harris now made a most unfortunate mistake in giving chase to a ship which on close quarters proved to be not a merchant vessel, but h.m.s. _greyhound_. after a short fight, the coward low slipped away, and left his consort, harris, to carry on an unequal contest until he was compelled to surrender his ship. low's cruelties became more and more disgusting, and there can be little doubt that he was really by this time a lunatic. in july, , low took a new ship for himself, naming himself admiral, and sporting a new black flag with a red skeleton upon it. he again cruised off the azores, the canaries, and the guinea coast, but what the end was of this repulsive, uninteresting, and bloody pirate has never been known. lowther, captain george. sailed as second mate from the thames in the _gambia castle_, a ship belonging to the african company, sixteen guns and a crew of thirty men. on board as passengers were captain massey and a number of soldiers. arriving at their destination, massey quarrelled with the merchants on shore, and, a few days later, with lowther, seized the ship, which he renamed the _delivery_. they now went a-pirating, their first prize being a boston ship, and cruising about off the island of hispaniola, several more were taken, but nothing very rich. lowther quarrelled with captain massey, who, being a soldier, wished to land on some island to plunder the french settlements, but this was not agreed to, and massey and his followers were sent away in a sloop. life for lowther now became a series of successes, prizes being taken, and visits to land being occasionally made for the crew to enjoy a drunken revel. having met with captain low, for a while the two sailed together, and took the _greyhound_, a merchantman, and several more rich prizes. lowther now commanded a small pirate fleet, and styled himself admiral, his flagship being the _happy delivery_. while careening their ships in the gulf of matigue, they were suddenly attacked by the natives, and the pirates barely escaped in a sloop with their lives. lowther soon improved himself by seizing a brigantine, and in her shaped his course to the coast of south carolina, a favourite resort for the pirates. here he attacked an english ship, but was so roughly handled that he was glad to run his ship ashore and escape. in he steered for newfoundland, taking many small vessels there, and returning to the west indies. while cleaning his ship at the isle of blanco, he was suddenly attacked by a south sea company's ship, the _eagle_, and the pirates were compelled to surrender. lowther and a dozen of his crew escaped by climbing out of the cabin window, and, reaching the island, hid themselves in the woods. all were caught except lowther and three men and a boy. he was shortly afterwards found lying dead with a pistol by his side, and was supposed to have shot himself. three of his crew who were caught were carried to st. christopher's, and there tried for piracy and hanged. ludbury, captain. buccaneer. sailed in company with captains prince and harrison in october, , ascended the san juan river in nicaragua with a party of men, and surprised and plundered the city of granada. luke, captain matthew. this italian pirate had his headquarters at porto rico, and specialized in attacking english ships. in he took four of these and murdered all the crews. in may, , luke made a terrible mistake. perceiving what he thought to be a merchant ship, he attacked her, to find out all too late that she was an english man-of-war, the _lauceston_. luke and his crew were taken to jamaica and hanged. one of his crew confessed to having killed twenty english sailors with his own hands. lushingham, captain. in this pirate was at berehaven in the south of ireland, having just sold a cargo of wine out of a spanish prize to the lord o'sullivan, when some of queen elizabeth's ships arrived in the bay in search of pirates. by lord o'sullivan's help the pirates escaped, but lushingham was killed "by a piece of ordnance" as he was in the act of waving his cap towards the queen's ships. lussan, le sieur raveneau de. this french filibuster was a man of much better birth and education than the usual buccaneer. also, he was the author of a most entertaining book recording his adventures and exploits as a buccaneer, called "journal du voyage fait a la mer de sud avec les flibustiers de l'amerique en ." pressure from his creditors drove de lussan into buccaneering, as being a rapid method of gaining enough money to satisfy them and to enable him to return to the fashionable life he loved so well in paris. de lussan was, according to his own account, a man of the highest principles, and very religious. he never allowed his crew to molest priests, nuns, or churches. after taking a spanish town, the fighting being over, he would lead his crew of pirates to attend mass in the church, and when this was done--and not until then--would he allow the plundering and looting to begin. de lussan was surprised and grieved to find that his spanish prisoners had a most exaggerated idea of the brutality of the buccaneers, and on one occasion when he was conducting a fair young spanish lady, a prisoner, to a place of safety, he was overwhelmed when he discovered that the reason of her terror was that she believed she was shortly to be eaten by him and his crew. to remedy this erroneous impression, it was the custom of the french commander to gather together all his prisoners into the church or the plaza, and there to give them a lecture on the true life and character of the buccaneers. the student who wishes to learn more about the adventures of de lussan can do so in his book. there he will read, amongst other interesting events, particulars about the filibuster's surprising and romantic affair with the beautiful and wealthy spanish widow who fell so violently in love with him. it happened on one occasion that raveneau and his crew, having taken a town on the west coast of south america after a somewhat bloody battle, had, as usual, attended mass in the cathedral, before setting out to plunder the place. entering one of the chief houses in the town, de lussan discovered the widow of the late town treasurer dissolved in tears, upon which the tender buccaneer hastened, with profound apologies, discreetly to withdraw, but calling again next day to offer his sympathy he found the widow had forgotten all about the late treasurer, for she had fallen violently in love with her gallant, handsome, and fashionably dressed visitor. after various adventures, de lussan arrived safely back in paris with ample means in his possession not only to satisfy his creditors, but also to enable him to live there as a gentleman of fortune and fashion. machauly, daniel, or maccawly, or mccawley. a scotch pirate. one of captain gow's crew. hanged at execution dock at wapping on june th, . mackdonald, edward. one of captain george lowther's crew in the _happy delivery_. hanged at st. kitts on march th, . macket, captain, or maggott. on march rd, , macket, who commanded a small vessel of fourteen tons, with a crew of twenty men, was at boca del toro with coxon, hawkins, and other famous buccaneers, having just returned from the sacking of porto bello. shortly afterwards the fleet sailed to golden island, off the coast of darien, and from thence set out to attack santa maria and panama. mackintosh, william. of canterbury in kent. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged at cape coast castle in at the age of . magnes, william, or magnus. born at minehead in somersetshire in . quartermaster of the _royal fortune_ (captain bartholomew roberts). tried for piracy at cape coast castle, and hanged in chains in , for taking and plundering the _king solomon_. main, william. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged in april, , at the age of years. main, william. boatswain to captain bartholomew roberts in the _royal fortune_. was blown up, the explosion being caused by one of the crew firing his pistol into some gunpowder when the ship was taken by h.m.s. _swallow_ in . maintenon, marquis de. arrived in the west indies from france in . in commanded _la sorcière_, a frigate, and, in company with other french filibusters from tortuga island, cruised off the coast of caracas. he ravaged the islands of margarita and trinidad. he met with but little success, and soon afterwards his fleet scattered. mainwaring, captain henry. a notorious newfoundland pirate. on june th, , when off the coast of that island, in command of eight vessels, he plundered the fishing fleet, stealing what provisions and stores he was in need of, also taking away with him all the carpenters and mariners he wanted for his own fleet. it was his custom, when taking seamen, to pick one out of every six. in all he took men, some of whom joined him willingly, while others were "perforstmen." sailing across the atlantic to the coast of spain, mainwaring took a portuguese ship and stole from out of her a good store of wine, and out of a french prize , dried fish. a few years later this pirate was pardoned and placed in command of a squadron and sent to the barbary coast in an unsuccessful attempt to drive out the pirates who were settled there. here he may well have met with his old friend captain peter easton, who had also been a newfoundland pirate, but in had joined the barbary corsairs. el majorcam, captain antonio. at one time an officer in the spanish navy. became a notorious west indian pirate, but about he retired from the sea to become a highwayman on shore. mansfield, jo. one of captain bartholomew roberts's men. must not be confused with edward mansfield, the famous buccaneer. a native of the orkney islands. at one time was a highwayman. later on deserted from the _rose_, man-of-war. volunteered to join the pirates at the island of dominica, and was always keen to do any mischief. he was a bully and a drunkard. when roberts's ship was attacked by h.m.s. _swallow_ and had surrendered after a sharp fight, mansfield, who had been below all the while, very drunk, came staggering and swearing up on deck, with a drawn cutlass in his hand, crying out to know who would go on board the prize with him, and it was some time before his friends could persuade him of the true condition of things. at his trial at cape coast castle he said little in his defence, but pleaded that the cause of his backsliding was drunkenness. hanged in the year at the age of . mansfield, captain edward, or mansvelt. a dutchman born in the island of curacao. he was the chief of the buccaneers, and at his death was succeeded by henry morgan. he was the first buccaneer to cross the isthmus of darien to the pacific ocean. noted for his charm of manner, he was very popular with the buccaneers of all nationalities. in he commanded a brigantine carrying four guns and a crew of sixty men. was chosen admiral of the fleet of buccaneers that gathered at bleufields bay in jamaica in november, , at the invitation of modyford, the governor, when he appointed young henry morgan to be his vice-admiral. this fleet was to sail and attempt to seize the island of curacao, and consisted of fifteen ships and a mixed crew of buccaneers. on the way there they landed in cuba, although england was at peace with spain, and marched forty miles inland, to surprise and sack the town of sancti spiritus, from which they took a rich booty. mansfield, "being resolved never to face the governor of jamaica until he had done some service to the king," next made a very daring attack on the island of old providence, which the spaniards had fortified and used as a penal settlement. this was successful, and mansfield, with great humanity, landed all the prisoners on the mainland of america. for a long while it had been mansfield's dream to make this island a permanent home of the buccaneers, as it was close to the spanish main, with the towns of porto bello and vera cruz, and on the trade route of the spanish galleons, taking their rich cargoes to spain. mansfield's next exploit was to ascend the san juan river and to sack granada, the capital of nicaragua. from there he coasted south along costa rica, burning plantations, smashing the images in the churches, ham-stringing cows and mules, and cutting down fruit-trees. he returned in june, , to port royal, with a rich booty. for this inexcusable attack on a country at peace with england, governor modyford mildly reproved him! mansfield, now an old man, died suddenly at the island of tortuga, off hispaniola, when on a visit to the french pirates there. another account says that he was captured by the spaniards and taken by them to porto bello, and there put to death. marteen, captain david. buccaneer. in he had his headquarters in jamaica. martel, captain john. an old jamaican privateer. after the peace of utrecht, being out of employment, he took to piracy. his career as a pirate was very successful so long as it lasted. cruising off jamaica, cuba, and other islands, he continued taking ship after ship, with one particularly rich prize, a west african ship containing gold-dust, elephants' teeth, and slaves. his original command was a sloop of eight guns and a crew of eighty men, but after a short while he commanded a small fleet consisting of two ships (each armed with twenty guns), three sloops, and several armed prizes. with these martel entered a bay in a small island called santa cruz, near porto rico, to careen and refit. this was in december, , but news had leaked out of the pirate's whereabouts, and soon there arrived on the scene captain hume, of h.m.s. _scarborough_. martel tried to escape, but his ship ran aground, and many of the pirates were killed, but a few, with martel, got ashore and hid on the island. none of them were heard of again except martel, and it was supposed that they had died of hunger. in the space of three months martel took and plundered thirteen vessels, all of considerable size. two years later he was back in new providence island, when governor rogers arrived with king george's offer of pardon to the pirates, and martel was one of those who surrendered. martin, john. hanged in virginia in with the rest of blackbeard's crew. massey, captain john. as a lieutenant, he "served with great applause" in the army in flanders, under the command of the duke of marlborough. he afterwards sailed from the thames in the _gambia castle_, a ship of the african company, in command of a company of soldiers which was being sent to garrison the fort. the merchants of gambia were supposed to victual this garrison, but the rations supplied were considered by massey to be quite insufficient. he quarrelled with the governor and merchants, and took his soldiers back on board the ship, and with lowther, the second mate, seized the ship and turned pirate. lowther and massey eventually quarrelled, for the latter, being a soldier, "was solicitous to move in his own sphere"--that is, he wanted to land his troops and plunder the french west indian settlements. in the end massey and a few followers were permitted to go off in a captured sloop, and in this sailed for port royal, jamaica. arrived there, "with a bold countenance he went to the governor" and told a long and plausible tale of how he had managed to escape from the pirates at the first opportunity. he deceived the sympathetic governor, and was sent with captain laws to hunt for lowther. returning to jamaica without finding lowther, he was granted a "certificate of his surrender," and came to england as a passenger. on reaching london, he wrote a narrative of the whole affair--or as much as he deemed wise--to the african company, who, receiving the story with far less credulity than the governor of jamaica, returned him answer "that he should be fairly hanged," and very shortly afterwards he was, at tyburn on july th, . may, william. a london mariner. one of captain avery's crew, left behind in madagascar very sick. a negro, hearing that an englishman was there, came to him and nursed and fed him. this negro spoke good english, having lived at bethnal green. may was promoted afterwards to be captain of a ship in the red sea. he was described by a shipmate as being "a true cock of the game and an old sportsman." hanged at london in . maze, captain william, or mace, or maise. a notorious pirate; particularly mentioned in the royal warrant authorizing captain kidd to go and capture certain "wicked and ill-disposed persons." arrived in command of a big ship at new york in , loaded with booty taken in the red sea. mccarthy, captain dennis. of new providence, bahama islands. this pirate and prize-fighter was one of those who refused king george's pardon in , and was eventually hanged by his late fellow-pirates. on the gallows he made the following dying speech: "some friends of mine have often said i should die in my shoes, but i would rather make them liars." and so, kicking off his shoes, he was hanged. meghlyn, hans van. a pirate of antwerp, who owned a vessel of forty-five tons, painted black with pitch, and carried a crew of thirty. in he was cruising off whitstable, on the lookout for vessels entering or leaving the thames. cromwell had been warned by vaughan to look out for this pirate ship. de melton. a well-known pirate in the sixteenth century. was with kellwanton when he was captured in the isle of man in , but de melton managed to escape with some of the crew and get away in their ship to grimsby. melvin, william. this scotch pirate was hanged, with other members of gow's crew, at wapping in june, . mendoza, antonio. a spaniard from san domingo. mention is made of this unlucky mariner in a very interesting document which mr. a. hyatt verrill was fortunate enough to acquire quite recently in the island of st. kitts. it runs as follows: "an assize and generall gaole delivrie held at st. christophers colonie from ye nineteenthe daye of maye to ye n. daye off ye same monthe captaine josias pendringhame magustrate &c. the jurye of our soveraigne lord the kinge doe presente antonio mendoza of hispaniola and a subjecte of ye kinge of spain for that ye said on or about ye daye of apryl feloneousely delibyrately and malliciousley and encontrarye to ye laws off almightie god and our soveraigne lord the kinge did in his cuppes saucely and arrogantyly speak of the governour and lord the kinge and bye force and armies into ye tavernne of john wilkes esq. did entre and there did horrible sware and cursse and did felonoslye use threatteninge words and did strike and cutte most murtherouslye severalle subjects of our soveraigne lord the kinge. of w'h indictment he pleadeth not guiltie butte onne presente master samuel dunscombe mariner did sware that said antonio mendoza was of his knowenge a blood-thirste piratte and guiltie of diabolicalle practises & ye grande inquest findinge yt a trewe bill to be tryd by god and ye countrye w'h beinge a jurie of men sworne finde him guiltie & for the same he be adjuged to be carryd to ye fort prison to have both his earres cutt close by his head and be burnet throughe ye tongue with an hot iron and to be caste chained in ye dungon to awaitte ye plesyure of god and our soveraigne lord the kinge." meyeurs. a south sea pirate, killed when taking part with captain williams in a raid against an arab settlement at bayu. michel, capitaine. filibuster. his ship, _la mutine_, was armed with forty-four guns and carried a crew of men. michel le basque. a french filibuster. in company with the butcher l'onnais and other buccaneers, he pillaged the town of maracaibo in venezuela, in the year . a very successful but ruthless buccaneer. don miguel. in commanded a squadron of small pirate vessels off the azores. after seizing a sardinian brig off st. michael's, was himself captured by a british frigate. miguel, francesco. hanged at kingston, jamaica, in . miller, john. one of captain john quelch's crew. hanged at boston on june th, . a broadsheet published at the time, describing the scenes at the execution, tells us that miller "seemed much concerned, and complained of a great burden of sins to answer for, expressing often: 'lord, what shall i do to be saved?'" miller, thomas. quartermaster on the pirate ship _queen ann's revenge_, and killed on november nd, . misnil, sieur du. a french filibuster who commanded a ship, _la trompeuse_ (one hundred men and fourteen guns). misson, captain. this unique pirate came of an ancient french family of provence. he was the youngest of a large family, and received a good education. at the age of he had already shown unusual distinction in the subjects of humanity and logic, and had passed quite tolerably in mathematics. deciding to carve a fortune for himself with his sword, he was sent to the academy at angiers for a year, and at the conclusion of his military studies his father would have bought him a commission in a regiment of musketeers. but young misson had been reading books of travel, and begged so earnestly to be allowed to go to sea that his father got him admitted as a volunteer on the french man-of-war _victoire_, commanded by monsieur fourbin. joining his ship at marseilles, they cruised in the mediterranean, and the young volunteer soon showed great keenness in his duties, and lost no opportunity of learning all he could about navigation and the construction of ships, even parting with his pocket-money to the boatswain and the carpenter to receive special instruction from them. arriving one day at naples, misson obtained permission from the captain to visit rome, a visit that eventually changed his whole career. it happened that while in rome the young sailor met a priest, a signor caraccioli, a dominican, who held most unclerical views about the priesthood; and, indeed, his ideas on life in general were, to say the least, unorthodox. a great friendship was struck up between these two, which at length led the priest to throw off his habit and join the crew of the _victoire_. two days out from port they met and fought a desperate hand-to-hand engagement with a sallee pirate, in which the ex-priest and misson both distinguished themselves by their bravery. misson's next voyage was in a privateer, the _triumph_, and, meeting one day an english ship, the _mayflower_, between guernsey and start point, the merchantman was defeated after a gallant resistance. rejoining the _victoire_, misson sailed from rochelle to the west indies, and caraccioli lost no opportunity of preaching to young misson the gospel of atheism and communism, and with such success that the willing convert soon held views as extreme as those of his teacher. these two apostles now began to talk to the crew, and their views, particularly on the rights of private property, were soon held by almost all on board. a fortunate event happened just then to help the new "cause." meeting with an english man-of-war, the _winchester_, off the island of martinique, a smart engagement took place between the two ships, at the very commencement of which captain fourbin and three of the officers on the french ship were killed. the fight ended by the english ship blowing up, and an era of speech-making may be said to have now begun. firstly, signor caraccioli, stepping forward, made a long and eloquent address to misson, inviting him to become captain of the _victoire_, and calling upon him to follow the example of alexander the great with the persians, and that of the kings henry iv. and vii. of england, reminding him how mahomet, with but a few camel-drivers, founded the ottoman empire, also how darius, with a handful of companions, got possession of persia. inflamed by this speech, young misson showed what he could do, when, calling all hands up on deck, he made his first, but, as events proved, by far from last, speech. the result was a triumph of oratory, the excited french sailors crying out: "vive le capitaine misson et son lieutenant le scavant caraccioli!" misson, returning thanks in a few graceful words, promised to do his utmost as their commander for their new marine republic. the newly elected officers retiring to the great cabin, a friendly discussion began as to their future arrangements. the first question that arose was to choose what colours they should sail under. the newly elected boatswain, mathew le tondu, a brave but simple mariner, advised a black one, as being the most terrifying. this brought down a full blast of eloquence from caraccioli, the new lieutenant, who objected that "they were no pirates, but men who were resolved to affect the liberty which god and nature gave them," with a great deal about "guardians of the peoples rights and liberties," etc., and, gradually becoming worked up, gave the wretched boatswain, who must have regretted his unfortunate remark, a heated lecture on the soul, on shaking "the yoak of tyranny" off their necks, on "oppression and poverty" and the miseries of life under these conditions as compared to those of "pomp and dignity." in the end he showed that their policy was not to be one of piracy, for pirates were men of no principle and led dissolute lives; but _their_ lives were to be brave, just, and innocent, and their cause the cause of liberty; and therefore, instead of a black flag, they should live under a white ensign, with the motto "for god and liberty" embroidered upon it. the simple sailors, debarred from these councils, had gathered outside the cabin, but were able to overhear this speech, and at its conclusion, carried away by enthusiasm, loud cries went up of "liberty! liberty! we are free men! vive the brave captain misson and the noble lieutenant caraccioli!" alas! it is impossible in the space of this work to do justice to the perfectly wonderful and idealistic conditions of this pirate crew. their speeches and their kind acts follow each other in fascinating profusion. we can only recommend those who feel disposed to follow more closely the history of these delightful pirates, to read the account printed in english in , if they are fortunate enough to come by a copy. the first prize taken by these pirates under the white flag was an english sloop commanded by one captain thomas butler, only a day's sail out from st. kitts. after helping themselves to a couple of puncheons of rum and a few other articles which the pirates needed, but without doing any unkindness to the crew, nor stripping them, as was the usual custom of pirates on such occasions, they let them go, greatly to the surprise of captain butler, who handsomely admitted that he had never before met with so much "candour" in any similar situation, and to further express his gratitude he ordered his crew to man ship, and at parting called for three rousing british cheers for the good pirate and his men, which were enthusiastically given. sailing to the coast of africa, misson took a dutch ship, the _nieuwstadt_, of amsterdam. the cargo was found to consist of gold dust and seventeen slaves. in the latter captain misson recognized a good text for one of his little sermons to his crew, so, calling all hands on deck, he made the following observations on the vile trade of slavery, telling his men: "that the trading for those of our own species, cou'd never be agreeable to the eyes of divine justice. that no man had power of the liberty of another; and while those who profess a more enlightened knowledge of the deity, sold men like beasts; they prov'd that their religion was no more than grimace, and that they differ'd from the barbarians in name only, since their practice was in nothing more humane. for his part, and he hop'd he spoke the sentiments of all his brave companions, he had not exempted his neck from the galling yoak of slavery, and asserted his own liberty, to enslave others. that however, these men, were distinguished from the europeans by their colour, customs, or religious rites, they were the work of the same omnipotent being, and endued with equal reason. wherefore, he desired they might be treated like freemen (for he wou'd banish even the name of slavery from among them) and be divided into messes among them, to the end they might the sooner learn their language, be sensible of the obligations they had to them, and more capable and zealous to defend that liberty they owed to their justice and humanity." this speech was met with general applause, and once again the good ship _victoire_ rang with cries of "vive le capitaine misson!" the negroes were freed of their irons, dressed up in the clothes of their late dutch masters, and it is gratifying to read that "by their gesticulations, they shew'd they were gratefully sensible of their being delivered from their chains." but alas! a sad cloud was creeping insidiously over the fair reputation of these super-pirates. out of the last slave ship they had taken, a number of dutch sailors had volunteered to serve with misson and had come aboard as members of his crew. hitherto no swearword was ever heard, no loose or profane expression had pained the ears of captain misson or his ex-priestly lieutenant. but the dutch mariners began to lead the crew into ways of swearing and drunkenness, which, coming to the captain's notice, he thought best to nip these weeds in the bud; so, calling both french and dutch upon deck, and desiring the dutch captain to translate his remarks into the dutch language, he told them that-- "before he had the misfortune of having them on board, his ears were never grated with hearing the name of the great creator profaned, tho' he, to his sorrow, had often since heard his own men guilty of that sin, which administer'd neither profit nor pleasure, and might draw upon them a severe punishment: that if they had a just idea of that great being, they wou'd never mention him, but they wou'd immediately reflect on his purity, and their own vileness. that we so easily took impression from our company, that the spanish proverb says: 'let a hermit and a thief live together, the thief wou'd become hermit, or the hermit thief': that he saw this verified in his ship, for he cou'd attribute the oaths and curses he had heard among his brave companions, to nothing but the odious example of the dutch: that this was not the only vice they had introduced, for before they were on board, his men were men, but he found by their beastly pattern they were degenerated into brutes, by drowning that only faculty, which distinguishes between man and beast, reason. that as he had the honour to command them, he could not see them run into these odious vices without a sincere concern, as he had a paternal affection for them, and he should reproach himself as neglectful of the common good, if he did not admonish them; and as by the post which they had honour'd him, he was obliged to have a watchful eye over their general interest; he was obliged to tell them his sentiments were, that the dutch allured them to a dissolute way of life, that they might take some advantage over them: wherefore, as his brave companions, he was assured, wou'd be guided by reason, he gave the dutch notice, that the first whom he catch'd either with an oath in his mouth or liquor in his head, should be brought to the geers, whipped and pickled, for an example to the rest of his nation: as to his friends, his companions, his children, those gallant, those generous, noble and heroick souls he had the honour to command, he entreated them to allow a small time for reflection, and to consider how little pleasure, and how much danger, might flow from imitating the vices of their enemies; and that they would among themselves, make a law for the suppression of what would otherwise estrange them from the source of life, and consequently leave them destitute of his protection." this speech had the desired effect, and ever afterwards, when any one of the crew had reason to mention the name of his captain, he never failed to add the epithet "good" before it. these chaste pirates soon took and plundered many rich merchant ships, but always in the most gentlemanly manner, so that none failed to be "not a little surprised at the regularity, tranquillity and humanity of these new-fashioned pyrates." from out of one of these, an english vessel, they took a sum of £ , , but during the engagement the captain was killed. poor captain misson was broken-hearted over this unfortunate mishap, and to show as best he could his regret, he buried the body on shore, and, finding that one of his men was by trade a stonecutter, raised a monument over the grave with, engraved upon it, the words: "here lies a gallant english-man." and at the conclusion of a very moving burial service he paid a final tribute by "a triple discharge of small arms and fired minute guns." misson now sailed to the island of johanna in the indian ocean, which became his future home. misson married the sister of the local dusky queen, and his lieutenant led to the altar her niece, while many of the crew also were joined in holy wedlock to one or more ladies of more humble social standing. already misson has received more space than he is entitled to in a work of reference of this kind, but his career is so full of charming incidents that one is tempted to continue to unseemly length. let it suffice to say that for some years misson made speeches, robbed ships, and now and again, when unavoidably driven to it, would reluctantly slaughter his enemies. finally, misson took his followers to a sheltered bay in madagascar, and on landing there made a little speech, telling them that here they could settle down, build a town, that here, in fact, "they might have some place to call their own; and a receptacle, when age or wounds had render'd them incapable of hardship, where they might enjoy the fruits of their labour, and go to their graves in peace." this ideal colony was called libertatia, and was run on strictly socialistic lines, for no one owned any individual property; all money was kept in a common treasury, and no hedges bounded any man's particular plot of land. docks were made and fortifications set up. soon misson had two ships built, called the _childhood_ and the _liberty_, and these were sent for a voyage round the island, to map and chart the coast, and to train the released slaves to be efficient sailors. a session house was built, and a form of government arranged. at the first meeting misson was elected lord conservator, as they called the president, for a term of three years, and during that period he was to have "all the ensigns of royalty to attend him." captain tew, the english pirate, was elected admiral of the fleet of libertatia, caraccioli became secretary of state, while the council was formed of the ablest amongst the pirates, without distinction of nation or colour. the difficulty of language, as french, english, portuguese, and dutch were equally spoken, was overcome by the invention of a new language, a kind of esperanto, which was built up of words from all four. for many years this ideally successful and happy pirate utopia flourished; but at length misfortunes came, one on top of the other, and a sudden and unexpected attack by the hitherto friendly natives finally drove misson and a few other survivors to seek safety at sea, but, overtaken by a hurricane, their vessel foundered, and misson and all his crew were drowned; and thus ended the era of what may be called "piracy without tears." he was the mildest-manner'd man that ever scuttled ship or cut a throat. byron. mitchell, captain. an english buccaneer of jamaica, who flourished in . mitchell, john. of shadwell parish, london. one of the crew of the _ranger_. condemned to death, but reprieved and sold to the royal african company. m'kinlie, peter. irish pirate. boatswain in a merchant ship which sailed from the canaries to england in the year . on board were three passengers, the adventurous captain glass and his wife and daughter. one night m'kinlie and four other mutineers murdered the commander of the vessel, captain cockeran, and captain glass and his family, as well as all the crew except two cabin-boys. after throwing their bodies overboard, m'kinlie steered for the coast of ireland, and on december rd arrived in the neighbourhood of the harbour of ross. filling the long-boat with dollars, weighing some two tons, they rowed ashore, after killing the two boys and scuttling the ship. on landing, the pirates found they had much more booty than they could carry, so they buried bags of dollars in the sand, and took what they could with them to a village called fishertown. here they regaled themselves, while one of the villagers relieved them of a bag containing , dollars. next day they walked into ross, and there sold another bag of dollars, and with the proceeds each man bought a pair of pistols and a horse and rode to dublin. in the meanwhile the ship, instead of sinking, was washed up on the shore. strong suspicion being roused in the countryside, messengers were sent post-haste to inform the lords of the regency at dublin that the supposed pirates were in the city. three of them were arrested in the black bull inn in thomas street, but m'kinlie and another pirate, who had already taken a post-chaise for cork, intending to embark there on a vessel for england, were arrested on the way. the five pirates were tried in dublin, condemned and executed, their bodies being hung in chains, on december th, . montbars, the exterminator. a native of languedoc. he joined the buccaneers after reading a book which recorded the cruelty of the spaniards to the american natives, and this story inspired him with such a hatred of all spaniards that he determined to go to the west indies, throw in his lot with the buccaneers, and to devote his whole life and energies to punishing the spaniards. he carried out his resolve most thoroughly, and treated all spaniards who came into his power with such cruelty that he became known all up and down the spanish main as the exterminator. eventually montbars became a notorious and successful buccaneer or pirate chief, having his headquarters at st. bartholomew, one of the virgin islands, to which he used to bring all his prisoners and spoils taken out of spanish ships and towns. montenegro. a columbian. one of captain gilbert's crew in the pirate schooner _panda_. hanged at boston in . de mont, francis. captured in south carolina in . tried at charleston, and convicted of taking the _turtle dove_ and other vessels in the previous july. hanged in june, . moody, captain christopher. a notorious pirate. very active off the coast of carolina, , with two ships under his command. in was with roberts on board the _royal fortune_, being one of his chief men or "lords." taken prisoner, and tried at cape coast castle, and hanged in chains at the age of . moore. gunner. a gunner aboard captain kidd's ship the _adventure_. when kidd's mutinous crew were all for attacking a dutch ship, kidd refused to allow them to, and moore threatened the captain, who seized a bucket and struck moore on the head with it, the blow killing him. kidd was perfectly justified in killing this mutinous sailor, but eventually it was for this act that he was hanged in london. morgan, captain. this pirate must not be confused with the buccaneer, sir henry morgan. little is known about him except that he was with hamlin, the french pirate, in , off the coast of west africa, and helped to take several danish and english ships. soon the pirates quarrelled over the division of their plunder and separated into two companies, the english following captain morgan in one of the prizes. morgan, colonel blodre, or bledry. this buccaneer was probably a relation of sir henry morgan. he was an important person in jamaica between and . at the taking of panama by henry morgan in the colonel commanded the rearguard of men. in may, , he was appointed to act as deputy governor of providence island by sir james modyford. morgan, lieut.-colonel edward. buccaneer. uncle and father-in-law of sir henry morgan. in , when war had been declared on holland, the governor of jamaica issued commissions to several pirates and buccaneers to sail to and attack the dutch islands of st. eustatius, saba, and curacao. morgan was put in command of ten ships and some men; most of them were "reformed prisoners," while some were condemned pirates who had been pardoned in order to let them join the expedition. before leaving jamaica the crews mutinied, but were pacified by the promise of an equal share of all the spoils that should be taken. three ships out of the fleet slipped away on the voyage, but the rest arrived at st. kitts, landed, and took the fort. colonel morgan, who was an old and corpulent man, died of the heat and exertion during the campaign. morgan, lieut.-colonel thomas. sailed with colonel edward morgan to attack st. eustatius and saba islands, and after these were surrendered by the dutch, thomas morgan was left in charge. in he sailed in command of a company of buccaneers to assist governor wells, of st. kitts, against the french. the defence of the island was disgraceful, and morgan's company was the only one which displayed any courage or discipline, and most of them were killed or wounded, colonel morgan himself being shot in both legs. often these buccaneer leaders altered their titles from colonel to captain, to suit the particular enterprise on which they were engaged, according if it took place on sea or land. morgan, sir henry. buccaneer. this, the greatest of all the "brethren of the coast," was a welshman, born at llanrhymmy in monmouthshire in the year . the son of a well-to-do farmer, robert morgan, he early took to the seafaring life. when quite a young man morgan went to barbadoes, but afterwards he settled at jamaica, which was his home for the rest of his life. morgan may have been induced to go to the west indies by his uncle, colonel morgan, who was for a time deputy governor of jamaica, a post sir henry morgan afterwards held. morgan was a man of great energy, and must have possessed great power of winning his own way with people. that he could be absolutely unscrupulous when it suited his ends there can be little doubt. he was cruel at times, but was not the inhuman monster that he is made out to be by esquemeling in his "history of the bucaniers." this was largely proved by the evidence given in the suit for libel brought and won by morgan against the publishers, although morgan was, if possible, more indignant over the statement in the same book that he had been kidnapped in wales and sold, as a boy, and sent to be a slave in barbadoes. that he could descend to rank dishonesty was shown when, returning from his extraordinary and successful assault on the city of panama in , to chagres, he left most of his faithful followers behind, without ships or food, while he slipped off in the night with most of the booty to jamaica. no doubt, young morgan came to jamaica with good credentials from his uncle, the colonel, for the latter was held in high esteem by modyford, then governor of barbadoes, who describes colonel morgan as "that honest privateer." colonel morgan did not live to see his nephew reach the pinnacle of his success, for in the year he was sent at the head of an expedition to attack the dutch stronghold at st. eustatius island, but he was too old to stand the hardships of such an expedition and died shortly afterwards. by this time morgan had made his name as a successful and resolute buccaneer by returning to port royal from a raiding expedition in central america with a huge booty. in morgan, with two other buccaneers, jackman and morris, plundered the province of campeachy, and then, acting as vice-admiral to the most famous buccaneer of the day, captain mansfield, plundered cuba, captured providence island, sacked granada, burnt and plundered the coast of costa rica, bringing back another booty of almost fabulous wealth to jamaica. in this year morgan married a daughter of his uncle, colonel morgan. in , when years of age, morgan was commissioned by the jamaican government to collect together the privateers, and by he was in command of a big fleet, when he was almost killed by a great explosion in the _oxford_, which happened while morgan was giving a banquet to his captains. about this time morgan calmly took a fine ship, the _cour volant_, from a french pirate, and made her his own flagship, christening her the _satisfaction_. in the greatest event of morgan's life took place--the sacking of panama. first landing a party which took the castle of san lorenzo at the mouth of the chagres river, morgan left a strong garrison there to cover his retreat and pushed on with , men in a fleet of canoes up the river on january th, . the journey across the isthmus, through the tropical jungle, was very hard on the men, particularly as they had depended on finding provisions to supply their wants on the way, and carried no food with them. they practically starved until the sixth day, when they found a barn full of maize, which the fleeing spaniards had neglected to destroy. on the evening of the ninth day a scout reported he had seen the steeple of a church in panama. morgan, with that touch of genius which so often brought him success, attacked the city from a direction the spaniards had not thought possible, so that their guns were all placed where they were useless, and they were compelled to do just what the buccaneer leader wanted them to do--namely, to come out of their fortifications and fight him in the open. the battle raged fiercely for two hours between the brave spanish defenders and the equally brave but almost exhausted buccaneers. when at last the spaniards turned and ran, the buccaneers were too tired to immediately follow up their success, but after resting they advanced, and at the end of three hours' street fighting the city was theirs. the first thing morgan now did was to assemble all his men and strictly forbid them to drink any wine, telling them that he had secret information that the wine had been poisoned by the spaniards before they left the city. this was, of course, a scheme of morgan's to stop his men from becoming drunk, when they would be at the mercy of the enemy, as had happened in many a previous buccaneer assault. morgan now set about plundering the city, a large part of which was burnt to the ground, though whether this was done by his orders or by the spanish governor has never been decided. after three weeks the buccaneers started back on their journey to san lorenzo, with a troop of pack-mules laden with gold, silver, and goods of all sorts, together with a large number of prisoners. the rearguard on the march was under the command of a kinsman of the admiral, colonel bledry morgan. on their arrival at chagres the spoils were divided, amidst a great deal of quarrelling, and in march, , morgan sailed off to port royal with a few friends and the greater part of the plunder, leaving his faithful followers behind without ships or provisions, and with but £ apiece as their share of the spoils. on may st, , the council of jamaica passed a vote of thanks to morgan for his successful expedition, and this in spite of the fact that in july, a year before, a treaty had been concluded at madrid between spain and england for "restraining depredations and establishing peace" in the new world. in april, , morgan was carried to england as a prisoner in the _welcome_ frigate. but he was too popular to be convicted, and after being acquitted was appointed deputy governor of jamaica, and in november, , he was knighted and returned to the west indies. in major-general banister, who was commander-in-chief of the troops in jamaica, writing to lord arlington about morgan, said: "he (morgan) is a well deserving person, and one of great courage and conduct, who may, with his majesty's pleasure, perform good public service at home, or be very advantageous to this island if war should again break forth with the spaniards." while morgan was in england he brought an action for libel against william crooke, the publisher of the "history of the bucaniers of america." the result of this trial was that crooke paid £ damages to morgan and published a long and grovelling apology. morgan was essentially a man of action, and a regular life on shore proved irksome to him, for we learn from a report sent home by lord vaughan in that morgan "frequented the taverns of port royal, drinking and gambling in unseemly fashion," but nevertheless the jamaican assembly had voted the lieutenant-governor a sum of £ special salary. in vaughan brought definite charges against morgan and another member of the council, robert byndloss, of giving aid to certain jamaica pirates. morgan made a spirited defence and, no doubt largely owing to his popularity, got off, and in was granted a commission to be a captain of a company of men. the governor to succeed vaughan was lord carlisle, who seems to have liked morgan, in spite of his jovial "goings on" with his old buccaneer friends in the taverns of port royal, and in some of his letters speaks of morgan's "generous manner," and hints that whatever allowances are made to him "he will be a beggar." in sir thomas lynch was appointed to be governor, and trouble at once began between him and his deputy. amongst the charges the former brought against morgan was one of his having been overheard to say, "god damn the assembly!" for which he was suspended from that body. in april, , the king, at the urgent request of the duke of albemarle, ordered morgan to be reinstated in the assembly, but morgan did not live long to enjoy his restored honours, for he died on august th, . an extract from the journal of captain lawrence wright, commander of h.m.s. _assistance_, dated august, , describes the ceremonies held at port royal at the burial of morgan, and shows how important and popular a man he was thought to be. it runs: "saturday . this day about eleven hours noone sir henry morgan died, & the th was brought over from passage-fort to the king's house at port royall, from thence to the church, & after a sermon was carried to the pallisadoes & there buried. all the forts fired an equal number of guns, wee fired two & twenty & after wee & the drake had fired, all the merchant men fired." morgan was buried in jamaica, and his will, which was filed in the record office at spanish town, makes provision for his wife and near relations. morrice, humphrey. of new providence, bahama islands. hanged at new providence in by his lately reformed fellow-pirates, and on the gallows taxed them with "pusillanimity and cowardice" because they did not rescue him and his fellow-sufferers. morris, captain john. of jamaica. a privateer until , he afterwards became a buccaneer with mansfield. took part in successful raids in central america, plundering vildemo in the bay of campeachy; he also sacked truxillo, and then, after a journey by canoe up the san juan river to take nicaragua, surprised and plundered the city of granada in march, . morris, captain thomas. one of the pirates of new providence, bahamas, who, on pardon being offered by king george in , escaped, and for a while carried on piracy in the west indian islands. caught and hanged a few years afterwards. morris, john. one of captain bartholomew roberts's crew. when the _royal fortune_ surrendered to h.m.s. _swallow_, morris fired his pistol into the gunpowder in the steerage and caused an explosion that killed or maimed many of the pirates. morrison, captain. a scotch pirate, who lived on prince edward island. for an account of his career, see captain nelson. morrison, william. of jamaica. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged at white point, charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. morton, philip. gunner on board "blackbeard's" ship, the _queen ann's revenge_. killed on november nd, , in north carolina, during the fight with lieutenant maynard. mullet, james, _alias_ millet. of london. one of the crew of the _royal james_, in which vessel major stede bonnet played havoc with the shipping along the coasts of south carolina and new england. hanged at charleston in . mullins, darby. this irish pirate was born in the north of ireland, not many miles from londonderry. being left an orphan at the age of , he was sold to a planter in the west indies for a term of four years. after the great earthquake at jamaica in , mullins built himself a house at kingston and ran it as a punch-house--often a very profitable business when the buccaneers returned to port royal with good plunder. this business failing, he went to new york, where he met captain kidd, and was, according to his own story, persuaded to engage in piracy, it being urged that the robbing only of infidels, the enemies of christianity, was an act, not only lawful, but one highly meritorious. at his trial later on in london his judges did not agree with this view of the rights of property, and mullins was hanged at execution dock on may rd, . mumper, thomas. an indian of mather's vineyard, new england. tried for piracy with captain charles harris and his men, but found to be "not guilty." mundon, stephen. of london. hanged for piracy at newport, rhode island, on july th, , at the age of . mustapha. turkish pirate. in he sailed, with a fleet of vessels, to the island of minorca. landed, and besieged the fortified town of ciudadda, which at length surrendered. the turks slew great numbers of the inhabitants, taking the rest away as slaves. nau, captain jean david, _alias_ francis l'ollonais. a frenchman born at les sables d'ollone. in his youth he was transported as an indented labourer to the french island of dominica in the west indies. having served his time l'ollonais went to the island of hispaniola, and joined the buccaneers there, living by hunting wild cattle and drying the flesh or boucan. he then sailed for a few voyages as a sailor before the mast, and acted with such ability and courage that the governor of tortuga island, monsieur de la place, gave him the command of a vessel and sent him out to seek his fortune. at first the young buccaneer was very successful, and he took many spanish ships, but owing to his ferocious treatment of his prisoners he soon won a name for cruelty which has never been surpassed. but at the height of this success his ship was wrecked in a storm, and, although most of the pirates got ashore, they were at once attacked by a party of spaniards, and all but l'ollonais were killed. the captain escaped, after being wounded, by smearing blood and sand over his face and hiding himself amongst his dead companions. disguised as a spaniard he entered the city of campeachy, where bonfires and other manifestations of public relief were being held, to express the joy of the citizens at the news of the death of their terror, l'ollonais. meeting with some french slaves, the fugitive planned with them to escape in the night in a canoe, this being successfully carried out, they eventually arrived back at tortuga, the pirate stronghold. here the enterprising captain stole a small vessel, and again started off "on the account," plundering a village called de los cagos in cuba. the governor of havana receiving word of the notorious and apparently resurrected pirate's arrival sent a well-armed ship to take him, adding to the ship's company a negro executioner, with orders to hang all the pirate crew with the exception of l'ollonais, who was to be brought back to havana alive and in chains. instead of the spaniards taking the frenchman, the opposite happened, and everyone of them was murdered, including the negro hangman, with the exception of one man, who was sent with a written message to the governor to tell him that in future l'ollonais would kill every spaniard he met with. joining with a famous filibuster, michael de basco, l'ollonais soon organized a more important expedition, consisting of a fleet of eight vessels and men. sailing to the gulf of venezuela in , they entered the lake, destroying the fort that stood to guard the entrance. thence sailing to the city of maracaibo they found all the inhabitants had fled in terror. the filibusters caught many of the inhabitants hiding in the neighbouring woods, and killed numbers of them in their attempts to force from the rest the hiding-places of their treasure. they next marched upon and attacked the town of gibraltar, which was valiantly defended by the spaniards, until the evening, when, having lost men killed, they surrendered. for four weeks this town was pillaged, the inhabitants murdered, while torture and rape were daily occurrences. at last, to the relief of the wretched inhabitants, the buccaneers, with a huge booty, sailed away to corso island, a place of rendezvous of the french buccaneers. here they divided their spoil, which totalled the great sum of , pieces of eight, which, when divided amongst them, gave each man above one hundred pieces of eight, as well as his share of plate, silk, and jewels. also, a share was allotted for the next-of-kin of each man killed, and extra rewards for those pirates who had lost a limb or an eye. l'ollonais had now become most famous amongst the "brethren of the coast," and began to make arrangements for an even more daring expedition to attack and plunder the coast of nicaragua. here he burnt and pillaged ruthlessly, committing the most revolting cruelties on the spanish inhabitants. one example of this monster's inhuman deeds will more than suffice to tell of. it happened that during an attack on the town of san pedros the buccaneers had been caught in an ambuscade and many of them killed, although the spaniards had at last turned and fled. the pirates killed most of their prisoners, but kept a few to be questioned by l'ollonais so as to find some other way to the town. as he could get no information out of these men, the frenchman drew his cutlass and with it cut open the breast of one of the spaniards, and pulling out his still beating heart he began to bite and gnaw it with his teeth like a ravenous wolf, saying to the other prisoners, "i will serve you all alike, if you show me not another way." shortly after this, many of the buccaneers broke away from l'ollonais and sailed under the command of moses van vin, the second in command. l'ollonais, in his big ship, sailed to the coast of honduras, but ran his vessel on a sand-bank and lost her. while building a new but small craft on one of the las pertas islands, they cultivated beans and other vegetables, and also wheat, for which they baked bread in portable ovens which these french buccaneers carried about with them. it took them six months to build their long-boat, and when it was finished it would not carry more than half the number of buccaneers. lots were drawn to settle who should sail and who remain behind. l'ollonais steered the boat towards cartagena, but was caught by the indians, as described by esquemeling. "here suddenly his ill-fortune assailed him, which of a long time had been reserved for him as a punishment due to the multitude of horrible crimes, which in his licentious and wicked life he had committed. for god almighty, the time of his divine justice being now already come, had appointed the indians of darien to be the instruments and executioners thereof." these "instruments of god," having caught l'ollonais, tore him in pieces alive, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire and his ashes into the air, to the intent "no trace nor memory might remain of such an infamous inhuman creature." thus died a monster of cruelty, who would, had he lived to-day, have been confined in an asylum for lunatics. neal. a fisherman of cork. mutinied in a french ship sailing from cork to nantes in , and, under the leadership of philip roche, murdered the captain and many of the crew and became a pirate. neff, william. born at haverhill, massachusetts, in . a soldier, one of the guard at fort loyal, falmouth, maine. deserted in and went to sea with the pirate captain pound. nelson, captain. born on prince edward island, where his father had a grant of land for services rendered in the american war. he was a wealthy man, a member of the council and a colonel of the militia. in order to set his son up in life he bought him a captaincy in the militia and a fine farm, where young nelson married and settled down. buying a schooner, he used to sail to halifax with cargoes of potatoes and fruit. he seems to have liked these trips in which he combined business with pleasure, for we learn that on these visits to halifax he "was very wild, and drank and intrigued with the girls in an extravagant manner." getting into disgrace on prince edward island, and losing his commission, he went to live near halifax, and became a lieutenant in the nova scotia fencibles, while his wife remained on the island to look after his estates, which brought him in £ a year. meeting with a scotchman called morrison, together they bought a "pretty little new york battleship," mounting ten guns. manning this dangerous toy with a crew of ninety desperate characters, the partners went "on the account," and began well by taking a brig belonging to mr. hill, of rotherhithe, which they took to new york, and there sold both ship and cargo. they next cruised in the west indies, taking several english and dutch ships, the crews of which they treated with the greatest brutality. landing on st. kitts island, they burnt and plundered two dutch plantations, murdering the owners and slaves. sailing north to newfoundland they took ten more vessels, which they sold in new york. after further successful voyages in the west indies and off the coast of brazil, nelson felt the call of home ties becoming so strong that he ventured to return to prince edward island to visit his wife and family, where no one dared to molest him. by this time nelson had been a pirate for three years and had, by his industry, won for himself a fortune worth £ , , but his scotch partner, morrison, being a frugal soul, had in the meantime saved an even larger sum. eventually their ship was wrecked in a fog on a small barren island near prince edward island, and morrison and most of the crew were drowned, but nelson and a few others were saved. at last he reached new york, where he lived the rest of his life in peaceful happiness with his wife and family. nicholls, thomas, _alias_ nicholas. of london. one of major stede bonnet's crew in the _royal james_. tried for piracy at charleston on november th, , and found "not guilty." nondre, pedro. hanged at kingston, jamaica, in february, . at the time of execution it was observed that he was covered with the marks of deep wounds. on the scaffold he wept bitterly. an immensely heavy man, he broke the rope, and had to be hanged a second time. norman, captain. buccaneer. served under morgan in , and after the fall of chagres fort, norman was left in charge with men to hold it, while morgan crossed the isthmus to attack panama. norman soon "sent forth to sea two boats to exercise piracy." these hoisted spanish colours and met a big spanish merchant ship on the same day. they chased the ship, which fled for safety into the chagres river, only to be caught there by norman. she proved a valuable prize, being loaded with all kinds of provisions, of which the garrison was in sore need. north, captain nathaniel. born in bermuda, and by profession a lawyer, captain north was a man of remarkable ability, and in his later calling of piracy he gained great notoriety, and was a born leader of men. his history has been written fully, and is well worth reading. he had many ups and downs in his early seafaring life in the west indies; being no less than three times taken by the pressgang, each time escaping. he served in dutch and spanish privateers, and eventually rose to being a pirate captain, making his headquarters in madagascar. from here he sailed out to the east indies, and preyed on the ships of the east india company. several times he was wrecked, once he was the only survivor, and swam ashore at madagascar stark naked. the unusual sight of a naked englishman spread terror amongst the natives who were on the beach, and they all fled into the jungle except one, a woman, who from previous personal experience knew that this was but a human being and not a sea devil. she supplied him with clothes, of a sort, and led him to the nearest pirate settlement, some six miles away. on another occasion when the pirates were having a jollification ashore, having left their moorish prisoners on the ship at anchor, north gave the prisoners a hint to clear off in the night with the ship, otherwise they would all be made slaves. this friendly hint was acted upon, and in the morning both ship and prisoners had vanished. the pirates having lost their ship took to the peaceful and harmless life of planters, with north as their ruler. he won the confidence of the natives, who abided by his decision in all quarrels and misunderstandings. occasionally north and his men would join forces with a neighbouring friendly tribe and go to war, north leading the combined army, and victory always resulted. the call of piracy was too strong in his bones to resist, and after three years planting he was back to sea and the jolly roger once more. on one occasion he seized the opportunity, when in the neighbourhood of the mascarenhas islands, to go ashore and visit the catholic priest and confess, and at the same time made suitable arrangements for his children to be educated by the church. north evidently truly repented his former sins, for he returned to resume his simple life on his plantation. on arriving home he found the settlement in an uproar. he soon settled all the disputes, appeased the natives, and before long had this garden-city of pirates back in its previous peaceful and happy state. beyond an occasional little voyage, taking a ship or two, or burning an arab village, north's career as a pirate may be considered to have terminated, as, indeed, his life was shortly afterwards, being murdered in his bed by a treacherous native. north's friends the pirates, shocked at this cold-blooded murder, waged a ruthless war on the natives for seven years: thus in their simple way thinking to revenge the loss of this estimable man, who had always been the natives' best friend. norton, george. one of captain john quelch's crew. tried for piracy in june, , at the star tavern at boston. nutt, john. one of captain john phillip's original crew of five pirates in the _revenge_ in . nutt was made master or navigator. ochali. barbary renegade. in he sailed from algiers with a fleet of twenty-two vessels and , men to raid majorca. the moors landed at soller and pillaged it. before they could get back to their ship, the pirates were attacked by the majorcans, headed by miguel angelats, and completely routed, of them being killed. odell, samuel. taken prisoner by the pirate captain teach on november st, , and on the very next day retaken by lieutenant maynard. odell received no less than seventy wounds in the fight, but recovered, and was carried to virginia to stand his trial for piracy, and was acquitted. oughterlauney, thomas. acted as pilot in the _royal fortune_. took an active part in taking and plundering the _king solomon_ on the west coast of africa in . was tried for piracy with the rest of roberts's crew, when one witness, captain trahern, deposed that the prisoner dressed himself up in the captain's best suit of clothes, his new tye wig, and called loudly for a bottle of wine, and then, very arrogantly, gave orders as to the steering of the captured ship. hanged at cape coast castle in . pain, captain. a bahaman privateer who in turned pirate and attacked st. augustine in florida under french colours. being driven off by the spaniards, he had to content himself with looting some neighbouring settlements. on returning to new providence, the governor attempted, but without success, to arrest pain and his crew. pain afterwards appeared in rhode island, and when the authorities tried to seize him and his ship, he got off by exhibiting an old commission to hunt for pirates given him a long while before by sir thomas lynch. when the west indies became too hot for him, pain made the coast of carolina his headquarters. paine, captain peter, _alias_ le pain. a french buccaneer. he brought into port royal in a merchant ship, _la trompeuse_. pretending to be the owner, he sold both ship and cargo, which brought about great trouble afterwards between the french and english governments, because he had stolen the ship on the high seas. he was sent from jamaica under arrest to france the same year, to answer for his crimes. painter, peter. this carolina pirate retired and lived at charleston. in august, , he was recommended for the position of public powder-receiver, but was rejected by the upper house. "mr. painter having committed piracy, and not having his majesties pardon for the same, its resolved he is not fit for that trust." which only goes to show how hard it was for a man to live down a thing like piracy. pardal, captain manuel rivero. known to the jamaicans as "the vapouring admiral of st. jago," because in july, , he had nailed a piece of canvas to a tree on the jamaican coast with this curious challenge written both in english and spanish: "i, captain manuel rivero pardal, to the chief of the squadron of privateers in jamaica. i am he who this year have done that which follows. i went on shore at caimanos, and burnt houses and fought with captain ary, and took from him a catch laden with provisions and a canoe. and i am he who took captain baines and did carry the prize to cartagena, and now am arrived to this coast, and have burnt it. and i come to seek general morgan, with ships of guns, and having seen this, i crave he would come out upon the coast and seek me, that he might see the valour of the spaniards. and because i had no time i did not come to the mouth of port royal to speak by word of mouth in the name of my king, whom god preserve. dated the th of july, ." parker, captain william. buccaneer. just after the city of porto bello had been made, as the spanish thought, impregnable, by the building of the massive stone fort of san jerome, the daring parker, with but english desperadoes, took the place by storm, burning part of the town and getting quickly and safely away with a huge amount of booty. parkins, benjamin. one of captain john quelch's crew in the brigantine _charles_. tried at boston for piracy in . parrot, james. one of quelch's crew, who turned king's evidence at the trial at boston in , and thus escaped hanging. patterson, neal. of aberdeen. one of major stede bonnet's crew in the _royal james_. hanged at charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh. pattison, james. tried for piracy at boston in . pease, captain. a low down, latter-day south sea pirate. arrived in an armed ship with a malay crew at apia in samoa in june, , and rescued the pirate bully hayes, who was under arrest of the english consul. he pleased the british inhabitants of the island by his display of loyalty to queen victoria by firing a salute of twenty-one guns on her majesty's birthday. pell, ignatius. boatswain of the _royal james_, major stede bonnet's ship. turned king's evidence at trial of bonnet and his crew at charleston, carolina, in . penner, major. we have been able to find out nothing of this pirate except that he was at new providence island in and took the king's pardon for pirates. he seems to have returned to the old life and was killed soon after, though how this came about is not recorded. perkins, benjamin. one of quelch's crew. captured at marblehead in . perry, daniel. of guernsey. tried for piracy in at charleston, south carolina, and found guilty. hanged on november th at white point. buried in the marsh below low-water mark. peterson, captain. of newport, rhode island. in he arrived at newport in a "barkalonga" armed with ten guns and seventy men. the governor prosecuted him for piracy, but the grand jury, which consisted of friends and neighbours of peterson, threw out the bill. among other charges, peterson was accused of selling some hides and elephants' teeth to a boston merchant for £ , being part of the booty he had previously taken out of prizes in the west indies. peterson, erasmus. tried for piracy with the rest of captain quelch's crew at boston. was hanged there on june th, . when standing on the gallows "he cryed of injustice done him and said, 'it is very hard for so many lives to be taken away for a little gold.' he said his peace was made with god, yet he found it extremely hard to forgive those who had wronged him. he told the executioner 'he was a strong man and prayed to be put out of his misery as soon as possible.'" peterson, john. a swedish pirate, one of gow's crew. he was hanged at wapping in june, . petit, captain. french filibuster. of san domingo. in was in command of _le ruze_, crew of forty men and four guns. petty, william. born at deptford. a sailmaker in captain roberts's _royal fortune_ when the _king solomon_ was taken and plundered in west africa. petty, as sailmaker, had to see that all the sails and canvas aboard the prizes were removed to the pirate ship. hanged at the age of . phelipp, captain william. in a portuguese merchant, peter alves, engaged phelipp to pilot his ship, the _santa maria desaie_, from tenby to bastabill haven. off the welsh coast the ship was attacked by a pirate vessel called the _furtuskewys_, with a crew of thirty-five pirates. alves was put ashore on the welsh coast, and the two ships then sailed to cork, where the ship and her cargo were sold to the mayor for , crowns. alves complained to the king of england, and orders were sent to the mayor of cork, richard gowllys, to give up the ship, which he refused to do, but by way of excusing his actions he explained that he thought the ship was a scotch one and not a portuguese. phillips, captain. in this noted pirate took a sloop, the _dolphin_, of cape ann, on the banks of newfoundland. the crew of the _dolphin_ were compelled by phillips to join the pirates. amongst the prisoners was a fisherman, john fillmore. finding no opportunity to escape, fillmore with another sailor, edward cheesman, and an indian, suddenly seized and killed phillips and the two other chief pirates. the rest of the crew agreeing, the ship was taken to boston. philips, james. of the island of antigua. formerly of the _revenge_, and afterwards in the _royal fortune_ (captain roberts). when the _royal fortune_ surrendered in to h.m.s. _swallow_, philips seized a lighted match and attempted to blow up the ship, swearing he would "send them all to hell together," but was prevented by the master, glasby. hanged at the age of . phillips, john. a carpenter by trade, he sailed from the west country for newfoundland in a ship that was captured by the pirate anstis in the _good fortune_. phillips soon became reconciled to the life of a pirate, and, being a brisk fellow, he was appointed carpenter to the ship. returning to england he soon found it necessary to quit the country again, and he shipped himself on board a vessel at topsham for newfoundland. on arriving at peter harbour he ran away, and hired himself as a splitter to the newfoundland cod fishery. on the night of august th, , with four others, he stole a vessel in the harbour and sailed away. phillips was chosen captain. articles were now drawn up and were sworn to upon a hatchet, because no bible could be found on board. amongst other laws was the punishment of " stripes lacking one, known as moses's law, to be afflicted for striking a fellow-pirate." the last law of the nine casts a curious light on these murderers; it runs: "if at any time you meet with a prudent woman, that man that offers to meddle with her, without her consent, shall suffer present death." the pirates, fortified by these laws, met with instant success, taking several fishing vessels, from which they augmented their small crew by the addition of several likely and brisk seamen. amongst these they had the good fortune to take prisoner an old pirate called john rose archer, who had served his pirate apprenticeship under the able tuition of the famous blackbeard, and who they at once promoted to be quartermaster. this quick promotion caused trouble afterwards, for some of the original crew, particularly carpenter fern, resented it. the pirates next sailed to barbadoes, that happy hunting ground, but for three months never a sail did they meet with, so that they were almost starving for want of provisions, being reduced to a pound of dried meat a day amongst ten of them. at last they met with a french vessel, a martinico ship, of twelve guns, and hunger drove them to attack even so big a ship as this, but the sight of the black flag so terrified the french crew that they surrendered without firing a shot. after this, they took several vessels, and matters began to look much brighter. phillips quickly developed into a most accomplished and bloody pirate, butchering his prisoners on very little or on no provocation whatever. but even this desperate pirate had an occasional "qualm of conscience come athwart his stomach," for when he captured a newfoundland vessel and was about to scuttle her, he found out that she was the property of a mr. minors of that island, from whom they stole the original vessel in which they went a-pirating, so phillips, telling his companions "we have done him enough injury already," ordered the vessel to be repaired and returned to the owner. on another occasion, they took a ship, the master of which was a "saint" of new england, by name dependance ellery, who gave them a pretty chase before being overhauled, and so, as a punishment, the "saint" was compelled to dance the deck until he fell down exhausted. this pirate's career ended with a mutiny of his unruly crew, phillips being tripped up and then thrown overboard to drown off newfoundland in april, . during the nine months of phillips's command as a pirate captain, he accounted for more than thirty ships. phillips, joseph. one of teach's crew. hanged in virginia in . phillips, william. born at lower shadwell. boatswain in the _king solomon_, a guinea merchant ship. this ship, while lying at anchor in january, , was attacked by a boatful of pirates from bartholomew roberts's ship, the _royal fortune_. the captain of the _king solomon_ fired a musket at the approaching boat, and called upon his crew to do the same, but phillips called for quarter and persuaded the rest of the crew to lay down their arms and surrender the ship. phillips eagerly joined the pirates and signed the articles, and was "very forward and brisk" in helping to rob his own ship of provisions and stores. at his trial at cape coast castle, he pleaded, as nearly all the prisoners did, that he was compelled to sign the pirates' articles, which were offered to him on a dish, on which lay a loaded pistol beside the copy of the articles. found guilty and hanged in april, , within the flood marks at cape coast castle, in his th year. phips, richard. an english soldier who deserted from fort loyal, falmouth, maine, in . wounded by a bullet in the head at tarpaulin cove. taken to boston prison, where he died. pickering, captain charles. commanded the _cinque ports_ galley, sixteen guns, crew of sixty-three men, and accompanied dampier on his voyage in . died off the coast of brazil in the same year. pierse, george. tried for piracy along with the rest of the crew of the brigantine _charles_, at boston, in . pitman, john. one of captain quelch's crew. tried for piracy at boston in . poleas, pedro. spanish pirate. co-commander with captain johnson of a pirate sloop, the _two brothers_. in march, , took a ship, the _john and jane_ (edward burt, master), south of jamaica, on board of which was a passenger, john cockburn, who afterwards wrote a book relating his adventures on a journey on foot of miles on the mainland of america. porter, captain. a west indian pirate, who commanded a sloop, and, in company with a captain tuckerman in another sloop, came one day into bennet's key in hispaniola. the two captains were but beginners at piracy, and finding the great bartholomew roberts in the bay, paid him a polite visit, hoping to pick up a few wrinkles from the "master." this scene is described by captain johnson, in his "lives of the pirates," when porter and his friend "addressed the pyrate, as the queen of sheba did solomon, to wit, that having heard of his fame and achievements, they had put in there to learn his art and wisdom in the business of pyrating, being vessels on the same honourable design with himself; and hoped with the communication of his knowledge, they should also receive his charity, being in want of necessaries for such adventures. roberts was won upon by the peculiarity and bluntness of these two men and gave them powder, arms, and what ever else they had occasion for, spent two or three merry nights with them, and at parting, said, he hoped the l---- would prosper their handy works." pound, captain thomas. on august th, , this pirate, with five men and a boy, sailed out of boston harbour as passengers in a small vessel. when off lovell's island, five other armed men joined them. pound now seized the craft and took command, and declared his intention of going on a piratical cruise. the first vessel they met with they decided to take. it was a fishing boat. pound ran his craft alongside, but at the last moment his heart failed him, and he merely bought eight penn'o'th of mackerel from the surprised fishermen. he then sailed to falmouth, maine, where the corporal and soldiers of the guard at the fort deserted in the night and sailed off with pound and his crew. fortified by this addition to his crew, the pirate attacked a sloop, the _good speed_, off cape cod, and a brigantine, the _merrimack_, and several other prizes. by this time, the governor at boston had heard of pound's escapades, and sent an armed sloop, the _mary_, to search for him. the pirate was discovered in tarpaulin cove, and a fierce and bloody fight took place before the pirates struck their "red flagg." the prisoners were cast into boston gaol to await their trial. pound had been wounded, being shot in the arm and side. the trial took place on january th, . pound was found guilty, but reprieved, and was sent to england, but was later on liberated. afterwards he got command of a ship. he died in england in . powell, thomas. of connecticut, new england. one of captain charles harris's crew. hanged at newport, rhode island, on july th, , at the age of . power, john. born in the west of england. served in a slave vessel, the _polly_ (captain fox, commander), on a voyage to the coast of west africa. while the captain was on shore, the crew ran away with the ship, turned pirates, called their vessel the _bravo_, and elected power to be captain and sailed to the west indies. arrived there, he tried to sell his cargo of slaves, but being suspected of having stolen them, he thought it best to sail to new york. here the pirates got ashore, but the ship's surgeon informed the authorities, and power was arrested and sent to england, where he was tried, and hanged at execution dock on march th, . price, thomas. of bristol. hanged at charleston, south carolina, on november th, . one of major stede bonnet's crew. primer, matthew. one of captain quelch's crew. turned king's evidence at the trial for piracy held at the star tavern, boston, in june, . prince, captain lawrence. in this buccaneer sacked the city of granada in company with captains harris and ludbury. late in the same year, prince, with the rank of lieut.-colonel, led the vanguard in the attack on panama. pro, captain. this dutch south sea pirate owned a small plantation in madagascar, and was joined there by the pirate williams after he had escaped from slavery. both were taken prisoner by an english frigate. in a fight with the natives, the pirate crew was defeated, but pro and williams managed to escape and to reach some friendly natives. procuring a boat, they sailed away to join some other pirates at methulage in madagascar. prowse, captain lawrence. a devon man, a noted sea captain, and a terror to the spaniards. was imprisoned by king james i. at the instance of the king of spain for piracy and was to have been executed, but english public feeling ran so high that prowse was discharged. pulling, captain john. commanded the _fame_, which set out in in company with dampier in the _st. george_ on a plundering expedition to the south seas. their commissions were to attack only spanish and french ships. the two captains quarrelled at the very beginning of the voyage, while lying off the downs, and pulling slipped away by himself to go a-pirating amongst the canary islands. pursser, captain. in the sixteenth century this pirate became notorious for his piracies off the coast of wales, and with calles and clinton, two other pirates, "grew famous, till queene elizabeth of blessed memory, hanged them at wapping." quelch, captain john. a native of massachusetts colony. in was one of the crew of the brigantine _charles_, eighty tons, owned by some leading citizens of boston, and fitted out to go privateering off the coasts of arcadia and newfoundland. on leaving marblehead the crew mutinied, locked the captain in his cabin, and elected quelch their commander. they sailed to the south, and shortly afterwards threw the captain overboard. they hoisted a flag, the "old roger," described as having "in the middle of it an anatomy with an hourglars in one hand and a dart in the heart with three drops of blood proceeding from it in the other." they took nine portuguese vessels off the coast of brazil, out of which they took plunder of very great value. quelch now had the audacity to sail back to marblehead, where his crew landed and quickly scattered with their plunder. within a week quelch was in gaol, and was taken to boston, where his trial began on june th, , and he was found guilty. the days between the sentence and the execution must have, indeed, been trying for the prisoner. we read in a pamphlet published at the time: "the ministers of the town used more than ordinary endeavours to instruct the prisoners and bring them to repentance. there were sermons preached in their hearing every day, and prayer daily made with them. and they were catechised, and they had many occasional exhortations. and nothing was left that could be done for their good." on friday, june th, , quelch and his companions marched on foot through the town of boston to scarlil's wharf with a strong armed guard of musketeers, accompanied by various officials and two ministers, while in front was carried a silver oar, the emblem of a pirate's execution. before the last act the minister gave a long and fervent harangue to the wretched culprits, in all of whom were observed suitable signs of repentance except quelch, who, stepping forward on the platform, his hat in his hand, and bowing left and right to the spectators, gave a short address, in which he warned them "they should take care how they brought money into new england to be hanged for it." quittance, john. one of captain quelch's crew of the brigantine _charles_. tried with the rest of that crew at the star tavern at boston in june, . rackam, captain john, _alias_ calico jack. served as quartermaster in captain vane's company. on one occasion vane refused to fight a big french ship, and in consequence was dismissed his ship and marooned on an uninhabited island off the coast of america, while the crew elected rackam to be their captain in his place. this was on november th, , and on the very first day of his command he had the good fortune to take and plunder several small vessels. off the island of jamaica they took a madeira ship, and found an old friend on board as a passenger--a mr. hosea tisdell, who kept a tavern in the island, and they treated him with great respect. christmas day coming, the pirates landed on a small island to celebrate this festival in a thorough manner, carousing and drinking as long as the liquor lasted, when they sailed away to seek more. their next prize was a strange one. on coming alongside a ship, she surrendered, and the pirates boarding her to examine her cargo, found it to consist of thieves from newgate on their way to the plantations. taking two more vessels, rackam sailed to the bahama islands, but the governor, captain woodes rogers, sent a sloop, which took away their prizes. rackam now sailed his ship to a snug little cove he knew of in cuba, where he had more than one lady acquaintance. here the pirates were very happy until all their provisions and money was spent. just as they were about to sail, in comes a spanish guarda del costa with a small english sloop which they had recently taken. rackam was now in a very awkward position, being unable to get past the spaniard, and all he could do was to hide behind a small island. night came on, and when it was dark rackam put all his crew into a boat, rowed quietly up to the sloop, clambered aboard, threatening instant death to the spanish guards if they cried out, then cut the cables and sailed out of the bay. as soon as it was light the spanish ship commenced a furious bombardment of rackam's empty vessel, thinking he was still aboard her. in the summer of he took numbers of small vessels and fishing boats, but nothing very rich, and was not above stealing the fishermen's nets and landing and taking cattle. in october rackam was chased near nigril bay by a government sloop commanded by a captain barret. after a short fight rackam surrendered, and was carried a prisoner to port royal. on november th rackam and his crew were tried at st. jago de la vega, convicted and sentenced to death. amongst the crew were two women dressed as men, anne bonny and mary read. the former was married, in pirate fashion, to rackam. on the morning of his execution rackam was allowed, as a special favour, to visit his anne, but all the comfort he got from her was "that she was sorry to see him there, but if he had fought like a man, he need not have been hanged like a dog." rackam was hanged on november th, , at gallows point, at port royal, jamaica. raphaelina, captain. much dreaded by the merchant sailors navigating the south atlantic. in he controlled a fleet of pirate vessels in the vicinity of cape antonio. rayner, captain. in a letter to the lords of trade, dated from philadelphia, february th, , william penn mentions that several of captain kidd's men had settled as planters in carolina with rayner as their captain. raynor, william. one of captain john quelch's crew. tried at boston in . read, captain. commanded a brigantine which had its headquarters at madagascar. rescued the pirate thomas white. read died at sea. read, mary. woman pirate. born in london of obscure parentage; all that is known for certain is that her mother was a "young and airy widow." mary was brought up as a boy, and at the age of was engaged as a footboy to wait on a french lady. having a roving spirit, mary ran away and entered herself on board a man-of-war. deserting a few years later, she enlisted in a regiment of foot and fought in flanders, showing on all occasions great bravery, but quitted the service to enlist in a regiment of horse. her particular comrade in this regiment was a fleming, with whom she fell in love and disclosed to him the secret of her sex. she now dressed as a woman, and the two troopers were married, "which made a great noise," and several of her officers attended the nuptials. she and her husband got their discharge and kept an eating house or ordinary, the three horseshoes, near the castle of breda. the husband died, and mary once again donned male attire and enlisted in a regiment in holland. soon tiring of this, she deserted, and shipped herself aboard a vessel bound for the west indies. this ship was taken by an english pirate, captain rackam, and mary joined his crew as a seaman. she was at new providence island, bahama, when woodes rogers came there with the royal pardon to all pirates, and she shipped herself aboard a privateer sent out by rogers to cruise against the spaniards. the crew mutinied and again became pirates. she now sailed under captain rackam, who had with him another woman pirate, anne bonny. they took a large number of ships belonging to jamaica, and out of one of these took prisoner "a young fellow of engaging behaviour" with whom mary fell deeply in love. this young fellow had a quarrel with one of the pirates, and as the ship lay at anchor they were to go to fight it out on shore according to pirate law. mary, to save her lover, picked a quarrel with the same pirate, and managed to have her duel at once, and fighting with sword and pistol killed him on the spot. she now married the young man "of engaging behaviour," and not long after was taken prisoner with captain rackam and the rest of the crew to jamaica. she was tried at st. jago de la vega in jamaica, and on november th, , was convicted, but died in prison soon after of a violent fever. that mary read was a woman of great spirit is shown by her reply to captain rackam, who had asked her (thinking she was a young man) what pleasure she could find in a life continually in danger of death by fire, sword, or else by hanging; to which mary replied "that as to hanging, she thought it no great hardship, for were it not for that, every cowardly fellow would turn pirate and so unfit the seas, that men of courage must starve." read, robert. tried for piracy with gow's crew at newgate in , and acquitted. read, william. of londonderry, ireland. one of captain harris's crew. was hanged at newport, rhode island, in , at the age of . readhead, philip. one of captain heidon's crew of the pirate ship _john of sandwich_, wrecked on alderney island in . was arrested and hanged at st. martin's point, guernsey, in the same year. [illustration: ann bonny and mary read, convicted of piracy, november , , at a court of vice-admiralty held at st. jago de la vega in the island of jamaica. to face p. .] rhoade, captain john. a dutch coasting pilot of boston. in appointed chief pilot to the curacao privateer _flying horse_, and sailed along the coast of maine and as far north as the st. john river. afterwards attacked and plundered several small english craft occupied in bartering furs with the indians. condemned to be hanged at cambridge, massachusetts, in june, . rice, david. welsh pirate. of bristol. taken out of the cornwall galley by captain roberts, he served in the _royal fortune_. tried and found guilty of piracy and condemned to death, but was reprieved and sold to the royal african company to serve for seven years in their plantations. rice, owen. welsh pirate. of south wales. hanged at the age of at rhode island in . one of captain charles harris's crew. richards, lieutenant. lieutenant to blackbeard on board the _queen ann's revenge_. cruised in the west indies and along the coast of carolina and virginia. in teach blockaded the harbour at charleston and sent richards with a party of pirates to the governor to demand a medicine chest and all necessary medical supplies, with a threat that if these were not forthcoming he would cut the throats of all his prisoners, many of them the leading merchants of the town. while waiting for the governor's reply, richards and his companions scandalized the towns-folk of charleston by their outrageous and swaggering conduct. richardson, john. his father was a goldsmith at new york. john, tiring of the trade of cooper, to which he was apprenticed, ran away to sea. for many years he served both in men-of-war and in merchant ships. although an unmitigated blackguard, he did not commit piracy nor murder until some years later, when, being at ancona, he met a captain benjamin hartley, who had come there with a loading of pilchards. richardson was taken on board to serve as ship's carpenter, and sailed for leghorn. with another sailor called coyle, richardson concocted a mutiny, murdered the captain in the most brutal manner, and was appointed mate in the pirate ship. as a pirate richardson was beneath contempt. his life ended on the gallows at execution dock on january th, . richardson, nicholas. one of captain quelch's crew. taken out of the brigantine _charles_, and tried for piracy at boston in . ridge, john. of london. one of major stede bonnet's crew. hanged in at charleston, south carolina. ringrose, basil. buccaneer, pirate, and author. sailed in to the west indies. a year later ringrose had joined the buccaneers at their rendezvous in the gulf of darien, where they were preparing for a bold enterprise on the spanish main. they landed and marched to the town of santa maria, which they plundered and burnt. thence they travelled in canoes down the river to the bay of panama. after attacking the spanish fleet and laying siege to the city, the buccaneers cruised up and down the west coast of south america for eighteen months, sacking towns and attacking spanish ships. all this while ringrose kept a very full and graphic journal, in which he recorded not only their exploits, but also their hardships and quarrels, and gave descriptions as well of the various natives and their customs, and drew charts and sketches. in ringrose was still with captain sharp, and sailed through the straits of magellan, and on january th of the same year anchored off antigua. here he got a passage in a ship to england, landing safely at dartmouth on march th. a year later he published an account of his voyage, as a second volume to esquemeling's, "bucaniers of america." in he went to sea again in the _cygnet_ (captain swan), to traffic with the spanish colonies. but the spaniards refused to trade with them. in october, , they met the famous captain edward davis at that favourite haunt of the buccaneers, the isle of plate. the two captains agreed to join forces and to go together "on the account," so all the cargo was thrown overboard the _cygnet_, and the ships set out to make war on any spanish ships they might meet with. in february, , ringrose with one hundred men took the town of santiago in mexico, but while returning with the plunder to their ship were caught by the spaniards in an ambush, and ringrose was killed. ringrose never attained any rank among the buccaneers beyond occasionally being put in charge of a boat or a small company on shore, but as a recorder of the doings of his companions he proved both careful and painstaking. dampier had a great regard for him, and in his book he writes: "my ingenious friend ringrose had no mind to this voyage, but was necessitated to engage in it or starve." the title of ringrose's book, first published in , is "the dangerous voyage and bold assaults of captain bartholomew sharp and others." written by mr. basil ringrose. printed for william crooke, . roach, peter. when captain quelch was captured with his crew, roach escaped near the cape by snake island. he was afterwards captured and thrown into the gaol at salem. tried for piracy at the star tavern at boston, and on june th, , was hanged. at the place of execution roach disappointed the onlooking crowd, as, instead of the expected and hoped-for repentant speech, "he seemed little concerned, and said but little or nothing at all." rob, alexander. one of captain gow's crew. hanged at execution dock, wapping, in june, . he was not one of the original crew of the _george_ galley, but was taken out of a prize and joined the pirates of his own free-will. robbins, james. hanged in virginia in along with the rest of captain teach's crew. robbins, james. of london. one of the crew of the _royal james_. hanged in at charleston, south carolina. roberts, captain bartholomew. welsh pirate. born . died . if a pirate is to be reckoned by the amount of damage he does and the number of ships he takes there can be no doubt that captain roberts should be placed at the very head of his profession, for he is said to have taken over vessels. the only man who can be said to rival him is sir henry morgan, but morgan, although in some ways an unmitigated blackguard, was a man of much greater breadth of outlook than roberts ever was, and, moreover, was a buccaneer rather than a pirate. roberts, like many other successful pirates, was born in wales, not far from haverfordwest. he is described as being "a tall black man," and was about years of age at the time of his death. he was remarkable, even among his remarkable companions, for several things. first of all, he only drank tea--thus being the only total abstainer known to the fraternity. also he was a strict disciplinarian, and on board his ships all lights had to be extinguished by p.m., any of the crew who wished to continue drinking after that hour had to do so on the open deck. but try as he would this ardent apostle of abstemiousness was unable to put down drinking. if roberts had lived to-day, no doubt he would have been on the council of the local vigilance committee. he would allow no women aboard his ships, in fact he made it a law that any man who brought a woman on board disguised as a man was to suffer death. roberts allowed no games at cards or dice to be played for money, as he strongly disapproved of gambling. he was a strict sabbatarian, and allowed the musicians to have a rest on the seventh day. this was as well, for the post of musician on a pirate ship was no sinecure, as every pirate had the right to demand a tune at any hour of the day or night. he used to place a guard to protect all his women prisoners, and it is sadly suspicious that there was always the greatest competition amongst the worst characters in the ship to be appointed sentinel over a good-looking woman prisoner. all quarrels had to be settled on shore, pirate fashion, the duellists standing back to back armed with pistol and cutlass. roberts would have no fighting among the crew on board his ship. bartholomew must have looked the very part of a pirate when dressed for action. a tall, dark man, he used to wear a rich damask waistcoat and breeches, a red feather in his cap, a gold chain round his neck with a large diamond cross dangling from it, a sword in his hand, and two pairs of pistols hanging at the end of a silk sling flung over his shoulders. we first hear of roberts as sailing, in honest employ, as master of the _princess_ (captain plumb), from london in november, , bound for the coast of guinea to pick up a cargo of "black ivory" at anamaboe. here his ship was taken by the welsh pirate howel davis. at first roberts was disinclined for the pirate life, but soon changed his mind. on the death of davis there were several candidates for the post of commander, all brisk and lively men, distinguished by the title of "lords," such as sympson, ashplant, anstis, and others. one of these "lords," dennis, concluded an eloquent harangue over a bowl of punch with a strong appeal for roberts to be the new chief. this proposal was acclaimed with but one dissenting voice, that of "lord" sympson, who had hopes of being elected himself, and who sullenly left the meeting swearing "he did not care who they chose captain so it was not a papist." so roberts was elected after being a pirate only six weeks; thus was true merit quickly appreciated and rewarded amongst them. [illustration: captain bartholomew roberts. to face p. .] roberts's speech to his fellow-pirates was short but to the point, saying "that since he had dipped his hands in muddy water, and must be a pyrate, it was better being a commander than a common man," not perhaps a graceful nor grateful way of expressing his thanks, but one which was no doubt understood by his audience. roberts began his career in a bright manner, for to revenge the perfectly justifiable death of their late captain he seized and razed the fort, bombarded the town, and setting on fire two portuguese ships so as to act as torches, sailed away the same night. sailing to brazil they found in the bay of bahia a fleet of forty-two portuguese ships ready laden and on the point of leaving for lisbon, and roberts, with the most astounding boldness, sailed right in amongst them until he found the deepest laden, which he attacked and boarded, although his was a much smaller ship. he sailed away with his prize from the harbour. this prize, amongst the merchandise, contained , moidors and a cross of diamonds designed for the king of portugal. he then took a dutch ship, and two days later an english one, and sailed back to brazil, refitting and cleaning at the island of ferdinando. in a work such as this is, it is impossible to recount all, or even a few, of the daring adventures, or the piratical ups and downs of one pirate. roberts sailed to the west indies devastating the commerce of jamaica and barbadoes. when things grew too hot there, he went north to newfoundland, and played the very devil with the english and french fishing fleets and settlements. his first ship he called the _fortune_, his next, a bigger ship, the _royal fortune_, another the _good fortune_. on two occasions roberts had been very roughly handled, once by a ship from barbadoes and once by the inhabitants of martinica, so when he designed his new flag, he portrayed on it a huge figure of himself standing sword in hand upon two skulls, and under these were the letters a.b.h. and a.m.h., signifying a barbadian's and a martinican's head. in april, , roberts was back again on the guinea coast, burning and plundering. amongst the prisoners he took out of one of his prizes was a clergyman. the captain dearly wished to have a chaplain on board his ship to administer to the spiritual welfare of his crew, and tried all he could to persuade the parson to sign on, promising him that his only duties should be to say prayers and make punch. but the prelate begged to be excused, and was at length allowed to go with all his belongings, except three prayer-books and a corkscrew--articles which were sorely needed aboard the _royal fortune_. the end of roberts's career was now in sight. a king's ship, the _swallow_ (captain chaloner ogle), discovered roberts's ships at parrot island, and, pretending to fly from them, was followed out to sea by one of the pirates. a fight took place, and after two hours the pirates struck, flinging overboard their black flag "that it might not rise in judgement over them." the _swallow_ returned in a few days to parrot island to look for roberts in the _royal fortune_. roberts being at breakfast, enjoying a savoury dish of solomongundy, was informed of the approach of the ship, but refused to take any notice of it. at last, thoroughly alarmed, he cut his cables and sailed out, but most of his crew being drunk, even at this early hour, the pirates did not make as good a resistance as if they had been sober. early in the engagement roberts was hit in the throat by a grape-shot and killed; this being on february th, . his body, fully dressed, with his arms and ornaments, was thrown overboard according to his repeated request made during his lifetime. thus the arch-pirate died, as he always said he wished to die, fighting. his motto had always been "a short life and a merry one." one good word can be said for roberts, that he never forced a man to become a pirate against his wish. roberts, owen. welsh pirate. carpenter in the _queen ann's revenge_, and killed on november nd, , off the north carolina coast. robinson, edward. of newcastle-upon-tyne. hanged at charleston, south carolina, in . roche, captain philip, _alias_ john eustace. in company with three other mariners--cullen, wife, and neale--this irish pirate shipped himself on board a french snow at cork in november, , for a passage to nantes. owing to roche's briskness, genteel manners, and knowledge of navigation, the master used occasionally to place him in charge of the vessel. one night a few days out a pre-arranged mutiny took place, the french crew being butchered and thrown overboard. the captain, who pleaded for mercy, was also thrown into the sea. driven by bad weather to dartmouth, the new captain, roche, had the ship repainted and disguised, and renamed her the _mary_. then sailing to rotterdam he sold the cargo of beef and took on a fresh cargo with the owner, mr. annesly. the first night out of port they threw mr. annesly overboard, and he swam alongside for some while pleading to be taken in. on going into a french port, and hearing that an enquiry was being made about his ship, roche ran away. the crew took the ship to scotland, and there landed and disappeared, and the ship was seized and taken to the thames. later on roche was arrested in london and committed to newgate prison, found guilty of piracy, and hanged on august th, , at execution dock, at the age of . the hanging was not, from the public spectators point of view, a complete success, for the culprit "was so ill at the time that he could not make any public declaration of his abhorrence of the crime for which he suffered." roderigo, peter. a "flanderkin." commanded a dutch vessel, the _edward and thomas_, that sailed from boston in , and took several small english vessels along the coast of maine. tried for piracy at cambridge, massachusetts, and condemned to be hanged, but was afterwards pardoned. rogers, captain thomas. commanded a ship, the _forlorn_. routed the spaniards at venta cruz in . one of morgan's captains in his attack on panama. rogers, captain woodes. as the life of this famous navigator and privateer is, very justly, treated fully in the "dictionary of national biography" it is unnecessary to mention more than a few incidents in his adventurous career. woodes rogers was not only a good navigator, for on many occasions he showed a remarkable gift for commanding mutinous crews in spite of having many officers on whom he could place little reliance. on leaving cork in , after an incompetent pilot had almost run his ship on two rocks off kinsale called "the sovereigne's bollacks," rogers describes his crew thus: "a third were foreigners, while of her majestie's subjects many were taylors, tinkers, pedlars, fiddlers, and hay-makers, with ten boys and one negro." it was with crews such as these that many of the boldest and most remarkable early voyages were made, and they required a man of woodes rogers stamp to knock them into sailors. rogers had a gift for inspiring friendship wherever he went. on arriving at the coast of brazil, his boat was fired on when trying to land at angre de reys. this settlement had but lately received several hostile visitors in the way of french pirates. but before a week was passed woodes rogers had so won the hearts of the portuguese governor and the settlers that he and his "musick" were invited to take part in an important religious function, or "entertainment," as rogers calls it, "where," he says, "we waited on the governour, signior raphael de silva lagos, in a body, being ten of us, with two trumpets and a hautboy, which he desir'd might play us to church, where our musick did the office of an organ, but separate from the singing, which was by the fathers well perform'd. our musick played 'hey, boys, up go we!' and all manner of noisy paltry tunes. and after service, our musicians, who were by that time more than half drunk, march'd at the head of the company; next to them an old father and two fryars carrying lamps of incense, then an image dressed with flowers and wax candles, then about forty priests, fryars, etc., followed by the governor of the town, myself, and capt. courtney, with each of us a long wax candle lighted. the ceremony held about two hours; after which we were splendidly entertained by the fathers of the convent, and then by the governour. they unanimously told us they expected nothing from us but our company, and they had no more but our musick." what a delightful picture this calls to the mind--the little brazilian town, the tropical foliage, the holy procession, "wax figure" and priests, followed by the governor with an english buccaneer on either side, and headed by a crew of drunken protestant english sailors playing "hey, boys, up go we!" rogers, not to be outdone in hospitality, next day entertained the governor and fathers on board the _duke_, "when," he says, "they were very merry, and in their cups propos'd the pope's health to us. but we were quits with 'em by toasting the archbishop of canterbury; and to keep up the humour, we also proposed william pen's health, and they liked the liquor so well, that they refused neither." alas! the good governor and the fathers were not in a fit state to leave the ship when the end came to the entertainment, so slept on board, being put ashore in the morning, "when we saluted 'em with a huzza from each ship, because," as rogers says, "we were not overstocked with powder." it was in march, , that rogers brought his little fleet into the harbour of guam, one of the ladrone islands. although at war with spain, the captain soon became on his usual friendly terms with the governor of this spanish colony, and gave an entertainment on board his ship to him and four other spanish gentlemen, making them "as welcome as time and place would afford, with musick and our sailors dancing." the governor gave a return party on shore, to which rogers and all his brother officers were invited, partaking of "sixty dishes of various sorts." after this feast rogers gave his host a present, consisting of "two negro boys dress'd in liveries." one other instance of woodes rogers adaptability must suffice. in the year he was appointed governor to the bahama islands, at new providence, now called nassau. his chief duty was to stamp out the west india pirates who had made this island their headquarters for many years, and were in complete power there, and numbered more than , desperadoes, including such famous men as vane and teach. rogers's only weapon, besides the man-of-war he arrived in, was a royal proclamation from king george offering free pardon to all pirates or buccaneers who would surrender at once to the new governor. at first the pirates were inclined to resist his landing, but in the end the tactful rogers got his own way, and not only landed, but was received by an armed guard of honour, and passed between two lines of pirates who fired salutes with their muskets. most of the pirates surrendered and received their pardons, but some, who reverted shortly afterwards to piracy and were captured and brought back to new providence, were tried and actually hanged by rogers's late buccaneer subjects. woodes rogers eventually died in nassau in the year . he was the author of a delightful book entitled "a cruising voyage round the world, begun in and finish'd in , by captain woodes rogers, commander-in-chief on this expedition, with the ships _duke_ and _duchess_ of bristol." this was published in london in . rollson, peter. captain gow's gunner in the _revenge_. hanged at execution dock, wapping, in june, . ross, george, or rose. of glasgow. one of major stede bonnet's crew of the _royal james_. was hanged at charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. rossoe, francis. in june, , in company with four other carolina pirates, was placed on trial for his life. convicted with de cossey, de mont, and ernandos, of piratically taking the vessels the _turtle dove_, the _penelope_, and the _virgin queen_ in july of the previous year, and, after being sentenced to death by judge trott, rossoe and his fellow-pirates were promptly executed. roundsivel, captain george. of the bahama islands. he refused to avail himself of king george's pardon to all pirates in , and went off again on the "main chance" till captured. row, captain. buccaneer. in , at the boca del toro, was with the buccaneer fleet that attacked and sacked santa maria. row commanded a small vessel of twenty tons, a crew of twenty-five men, and no guns. ruiz. one of captain gilbert's crew in the pirate schooner _panda_, which plundered the salem brig _mexican_ in . tried in boston and condemned to be hanged. pleading insanity, he was respited for sixty days and then hanged on september th, . rupert. prince of the rhine. after an adventurous life as a soldier on the continent, he sailed from ireland in with seven ships. his own ship was the _swallow_. he was a man of boundless energy, who was never happy if not engaged in some enterprise, and as legitimate warfare gave him few opportunities he turned pirate. he spent five years at sea, largely in the west indies, meeting with every kind of adventure. in he was caught in a storm in the virgin islands, and his fleet was wrecked. his brother, prince maurice, was lost with his ship, the _defiance_, the only ship saved being the _swallow_. prince rupert returned in the _swallow_ to france in the same year. hitherto the prince had been a restless, clever man, "very sparkish in his dress," but this catastrophe to his fleet and the loss of his brother broke his spirit, and he retired to england, where he died in his bed in at spring gardens. le sage, captain. french filibuster. in was at san domingo, in command of the _tigre_, carrying thirty guns and a crew of men. salter, edward. hanged in virginia in with the rest of captain teach's crew. sample, captain richard. buccaneer. was at new providence island in , and received the royal pardon from king george, offered to those pirates who surrendered themselves to governor woodes rogers. like many another, he fell again into his former wicked ways, and ended his life by being hanged. sample, captain robert. one of england's crew in the _royal james_. in they took a prize, the _elizabeth and katherine_, off the coast of west africa. fitting her out for a pirate, they named her the _flying king_, and sample was put in command. in company with captain low, he sailed to brazil and did much mischief amongst the portuguese shipping. in november of the same year the two pirate ships were attacked by a very powerful man-of-war. lane got away, but sample was compelled to run his ship ashore on the coast. of his crew of seventy men, twelve were killed and the rest taken prisoners, of whom the portuguese hanged thirty-eight. of these, thirty-two were english, three dutch, two french, and one portuguese. sanders, thomas. an elizabethan mariner who was taken prisoner by the moors. he wrote a narrative of his life as a slave on a barbary pirate galley. "i and sixe more of my fellowes," he wrote, "together with four-score italians and spaniards, were sent foorth in a galeot to take a greekish carmosell, which came into africa to steale negroes. we were chained three and three to an oare, and we rowed naked above the girdle, and the boteswaine of the galley walked abaft the masts, and his mate afore the maste ... and when their develish choller rose, they would strike the christians for no cause. and they allowed us but halfe a pound of bread a man in a day without any other kind of sustenance, water excepted.... we were then so cruelly manackled in such sort, that we could not put our hands the length of one foote asunder the one from the other, and every night they searched our chains three times, to see if they were fast riveted." sawkins, captain richard. buccaneer. we know little of the early career of this remarkable buccaneer. he was loved by his crew, and had great influence over them. it is recorded that one sunday morning, finding some of his men gambling, he threw the dice overboard, saying "he would have no gambling aboard his ship." we know that on one occasion he was caught in his vessel by h.m.s. _success_ and brought to port royal, jamaica, and that on december st, , he was in prison awaiting trial for piracy. apparently he got off, for this brilliant young buccaneer is soon afterwards heard of as commanding a small vessel of sixteen tons, armed with but one gun and a crew of thirty-five men. he was one of a party of buccaneers who, under the leadership of coxon and sharp, landed on the coast of darien and marched through the jungle to attack and plunder the town of santa maria. the remainder of the journey across the isthmus was done in canoes, in which the pirates travelled down the santa maria river until they found themselves in the pacific. on this expedition each captain had his company and had his own colours, sawkins's flag being a red one with yellow stripes. arrived at the sea, they captured two small spanish vessels, and, the rest of the company being in the canoes, they boldly sailed towards panama city. meeting with the spanish fleet of eight ships, the buccaneers attacked it, and, after a most furious battle, came off victorious. this was one of the most gallant episodes in the whole history of the "brethren of the coast," and was afterwards known as the battle of perico. sawkins fought in the most brave and desperate manner, and took a large share in the successful enterprise. after this action some quarrelling took place, which ended by captain coxon going off with some seventy men, to return across the isthmus on foot. the company that remained in the pacific elected sawkins to be their leader, as captain sharp, a much older man, was away in his ship. the buccaneers, ever since they defeated the spanish fleet, had blockaded the harbour, and a correspondence took place between the governor of panama and sawkins, the former wishing to know what the pirates had come there for. to this message sawkins sent back answer "that we came to assist the king of darien, who was the true lord of panama and all the country thereabouts. and that since we were come so far, there was no reason but that we should have some satisfaction. so that if he pleased to send us five hundred pieces of eight for each man, and one thousand for each commander, and not any farther to annoy the indians, but suffer them to use their own power and liberty, as became the true and natural lords of the country, that then we would desist from all further hostilities, and go away peaceably; otherwise that we should stay there, and get what we could, causing to them what damage was possible." this message was just bluff on sawkins's part, but having heard that the bishop of santa martha was in the city, sawkins sent him two loaves of sugar as a present, and reminded the prelate that he had been his prisoner five years before, when sawkins took that town. further messengers returned from panama next day, bringing a gold ring for sawkins from the well-disposed bishop, and a message from the governor, in which he inquired "from whom we had our commission and to whom he ought to complain for the damage we had already done them?" to this sawkins sent back answer "that as yet all his company were not come together; but that when they were come up we would come and visit him at panama, and bring our commissions on the muzzles of our guns, at which time he should read them as plain as the flame of gunpowder could make them." after lying off panama for some while without meeting with any plunder, and their victuals running short, the crews began to grumble, and persuaded sawkins to sail south along the coast. this he did, and, arriving off the town of puebla nueva on may nd, , sawkins landed a party of sixty men and led them against the town. but the spaniards had been warned in time, and had built up three strong breastworks. sawkins, who never knew what fear meant, stormed the town at the head of his men, but was killed by a musket-ball. basil ringrose, the buccaneer who wrote the narrative of this voyage, describes sawkins as being "a man who was as valiant and courageous as any man could be, and the best beloved of all our company"; and on another occasion he speaks of him as "a man whom nothing on earth could terrifie." sawney, captain. a pirate of new providence island in the bahamas. in this pirate republic this old man lived in the best hut, and was playfully known as "governor sawney." de sayas, francisco. a spanish pirate hanged at kingston, jamaica, in . scot, lewis. distinguished as being the first pirate to carry on the trade on land as well as at sea. before this time pirates were never known to be anything but harmless drunkards when on shore, whatever they might be on board their ships. scot changed all this when he sacked and pillaged the city of campeachy. so successful was he that his example was quickly followed by mansfield, john davis, and other pirates. scot, roger. born at bristol. one of captain roberts's crew. tried for piracy in april, , at cape coast castle, west africa, after the great defeat of the pirates by h.m.s. _swallow_. on this occasion no less than pirates were accounted for. the finding of the honourable the president and judges of the court of admiralty for trying of pirates was as follows: acquitted executed respited to servitude to the marshallsea for tryal the rest were accounted for as follows: killed { in the _ranger_ { in the _fortune_ dy'd { in the passage to cape corso { afterwards in the castle negroes in both ships ---- ---- a number of the prisoners signed a "humble petition" begging that, as they, being "unhappily and unwisely drawn into that wretched and detestable crime of piracy," they might be permitted to serve in the royal african company in the country for seven years, in remission of their crimes. this clemency was granted to twenty of the prisoners, of which scot was one. a very impressive indenture was drawn up, according to which the prisoners were to become the slaves of the company for seven years, and this was signed by the prisoners and by the president. scott, william. one of major stede bonnet's crew in the _royal james_. tried for piracy in at charleston, south carolina, and hanged at white point on november th. scudamore, christopher. one of captain john quelch's crew. tried for piracy at the star tavern in hanover street, boston, in , and hanged on charles river, boston side, on june th. a report of the trial and execution of these pirates, describing scudamore's conduct on the gallows, says: "he appeared very penitent since his condemnation, was very diligent to improve his time going to, and at the place of execution." scudamore, peter. belonging to bristol. surgeon in the _mercy_ galley, and taken by captain roberts in . it was a rule on all pirate vessels for the surgeon to be excused from signing the ship's articles. when the next prize was taken, if she carried a surgeon, he was taken in place of their present one, if the latter wished to leave. but when scudamore came on board the _royal fortune_ he insisted on signing the pirate articles and boasted that he was the first surgeon that had ever done so, and he hoped, he said, to prove as great a rogue as any of them. when the african company's guinea ship, the _king solomon_, was taken, scudamore came aboard and helped himself to their surgeon's instruments and medicines. he also took a fancy for a backgammon board, but only kept it after a violent quarrel with another pirate. it came out at his trial that on a voyage from the island of st. thomas, in a prize, the _fortune_, in which was a cargo of slaves, scudamore had tried to bring about a mutiny of the blacks to kill the prize crew which was on board, and he was detected in the night going about amongst the negroes, talking to them in the angolan language. he said that he knew enough about navigation to sail the ship himself, and he was heard to say that "this were better than to be taken to cape corso to be hanged and sun dried." the same witness told how he had approached the prisoner when he was trying to persuade a wounded pirate, one james harris, to join him in his scheme, but fearing to be overheard, scudamore turned the conversation to horse-racing. scudamore was condemned to death, but allowed three days' grace before being hanged, which he spent in incessant prayers and reading of the scriptures. on the gallows he sang, solo, the thirty-first psalm. died at the age of . searles, captain robert. in he brought in two spanish prizes to port royal, but as orders had only lately come from england to the governor to do all in his power to promote friendly relations with the spanish islands, these prizes were returned to their owners. to prevent searle's doing such things again, he was deprived of his ship's rudder and sails. in , searle, in company with a captain stedman and a party of only eighty men, took the island of tobago, near trinidad, from the dutch, destroying everything they could not carry away. selkirk, alexander. the original robinson crusoe. born in at largo in fifeshire, he was the seventh son of john selcraig, a shoemaker. in he was cited to appear before the session for "indecent conduct in church," but ran away to sea. in he was back again in largo, and was rebuked in the face of the congregation for quarrelling with his brothers. a year later selkirk sailed to england, and in joined dampier's expedition to the south seas. appointed sailing-master to the _cinque ports_, commanded by captain stradling. in september, , he arrived at the uninhabited island of juan fernandez, in the south pacific. selkirk, having quarrelled with the captain, insisted on being landed on the island with all his belongings. he lived alone here for nearly four years, building himself two cabins, hunting the goats which abounded, and taming young goats and cats to be his companions. on the night of january st, , seeing two ships, selkirk lit a fire, and a boat was sent ashore. these ships were the _duke_ and _duchess_ of bristol, under the command of captain woodes rogers, while his old friend dampier was acting as pilot. selkirk was at once appointed sailing-master of the _duchess_, and eventually arrived back in the thames on october th, , with booty worth £ , having been away from england for eight years. while in england he met steele, who described selkirk as a "man of good sense, with strong but cheerful expression." whether selkirk ever met defoe is uncertain, though the character of robinson crusoe was certainly founded on his adventures in juan fernandez. in he returned to largo, living the life of a recluse, and we must be forgiven for suspecting that he rather acted up to the part, since it is recorded that he made a cave in his father's garden in which to meditate. this life of meditation in an artificial cave was soon rudely interrupted by the appearance of a certain miss sophia bonce, with whom selkirk fell violently in love, and they eloped together to bristol, which must have proved indeed a sad scandal to the elders and other godly citizens of largo. beyond the fact that he was charged at bristol with assaulting one richard nettle, a shipwright, we hear no more of selkirk until his first will was drawn up in , in which he leaves his fortune and house to "my loving friend sophia bonce, of the pall mall, london, spinster." shortly after this, alexander basely deserted his loving friend and married a widow, one mrs. francis candis, at oarston in devon. in he was appointed mate to h.m.s. _weymouth_, on board of which he died a year later at the age of . selkirk is immortalized in literature, not only by defoe, but by cowper in his "lines on solitude," beginning: "i am monarch of all i survey." sharp, rowland. of bath town in north carolina. one of major stede bonnet's crew. tried for piracy at charleston in and found "not guilty." shaster, roger. one of captain heidon's crew of the pirate ship _john of sandwich_, which was wrecked on the coast of alderney. shaster was arrested and hanged at st. martin's point, guernsey, in . shaw, john. one of captain lowther's crew. hanged at st. kitts on march th, . shergall, henry, or sherral. buccaneer. a seaman with captain bartholomew sharp in his south sea voyage. one october day he fell into the sea while going into the spritsail-top and was drowned. "this incident several of our company interpreted as a bad omen, which proved not so, through the providence of the almighty." shirley, sir anthony. in january, , headed an expedition to the island of jamaica. he met with little opposition from the spaniards, and seized and plundered st. jago de la vega. shivers, captain. this south sea pirate cruised in company with culliford and nathaniel north in the red sea, preying principally on moorish ships, and also sailed about the indian ocean as far as the malacca islands. he accepted the royal pardon to pirates, which was brought out to madagascar by commodore littleton, and apparently gave up his wicked ways thereafter. shutfield, william. of lancaster. hanged at rhode island in july, , at the age of . siccadam, john. of boston. one of captain pound's crew. found guilty of piracy, but pardoned. simms, henry, _alias_ "gentleman harry." pickpocket, highwayman, pirate, and old etonian. born in at st. martin's-in-the-fields. sent while quite young to school at eton, where he "shewed an early inclination to vice," and at the age of was taken from school and apprenticed to a breeches-maker. no old etonian, either then or now, would stand that kind of treatment, so simms ran away, becoming a pickpocket and later a highwayman. after numerous adventures and escapes from prison, he was pressed on board h.m.s. _rye_, but he deserted his ship at leith. after an "affair" at croydon, simms was transplanted with other convicts to maryland, in the _italian merchant_. on the voyage he attempted, but without success, to raise a mutiny. on his arrival in america he was sold to the master of the _two sisters_, which was taken a few days out from maryland by a bayonne pirate. carried to spain, simms got to oporto, and there was pressed on board h.m.s. _king fisher_. eventually he reached bristol, where he bought, with his share of booty, a horse and two pistols, with which to go on the highway. hanged on june th, , for stealing an old silver watch and s. from mr. francis sleep at dunstable. skipton, captain. commanded a pirate ship, in which he sailed in company with captain spriggs. being chased by h.m.s. _diamond_ off the coast of cuba, skipton ran his sloop on to the florida reef. escaping with his crew to an island, they were attacked by the indians, and many of them were captured and eaten. the survivors, embarking in a canoe, were caught by the man-of-war and taken prisoner. skyrm, captain james. welsh pirate. hanged at the advanced age--for a pirate--of . commanded the _ranger_, one of captain roberts's ships that cruised in and off the west coast of africa. in the fight with the king's ship that took him he was very active with a drawn sword in his hand, with which he beat any of his crew who were at all backward. one of his legs was shot away in this action, but he refused to leave the deck and go below as long as the action lasted. he was condemned to death and hanged in chains. smith, george. welsh pirate. one of captain roberts's pirates. hanged at the age of . smith, john. one of the mutinous crew of the _antonio_. hanged at boston in . smith, john williams. of charleston, carolina. hanged in for piracy, at charleston. smith, major samuel. buccaneer. at one time a buccaneer with the famous mansfield. in he was sent, by the governor of jamaica, with a party to reinforce the troops which under mansfield had recaptured the new providence island from the spanish. in he was taken prisoner by the spanish and carried to panama and there kept in chains in a dungeon for seventeen months. de soto, bernado. one of the crew of the schooner _panda_ that took and plundered the salem brig _mexican_. the crew of the _panda_ were captured by an english man-of-war and taken to boston. de soto was condemned to death, but eventually fully pardoned owing to his heroic conduct in rescuing the crew of an american vessel some time previously. de soto, captain benito. a portuguese. a most notorious pirate in and about . in he shipped at buenos ayres as mate in a slaver, named the _defenser de pedro_, and plotted to seize the ship off the african coast. the pirates took the cargo of slaves to the west indies, where they sold them. de soto plundered many vessels in the caribbean sea, then sailed to the south atlantic, naming his ship the _black joke_. the fear of the _black joke_ became so great amongst the east indiamen homeward bound that they used to make up convoys at st. helena before heading north. in de soto attacked the _morning star_, an east indiaman, and took her, when he plundered the ship and murdered the captain. after taking several more ships, de soto lost his own on the rocky coast of spain, near cadiz. his crew, although pretending to be honest shipwrecked sailors, were arrested, but de soto managed to escape to gibraltar. here he was recognized by a soldier who had seen de soto when he took the _morning star_, in which he had been a passenger. the pirate was arrested, and tried before sir george don, the governor of gibraltar, and sentenced to death. he was sent to cadiz to be hanged with the rest of his crew. the gallows was erected at the water's edge, and de soto, with his coffin, was conveyed there in a cart. he died bravely, arranging the noose around his own neck, stepping up into his coffin to do so; then, crying out, "adios todos," he threw himself off the cart. this man must not be confused with one bernado de soto, who was tried for piracy at boston in . sound, joseph. of the city of westminster. hanged, at the age of , at newport, rhode island, in . sparks, james. a newfoundland fisherman. in august, , with john phillips and three others, ran away with a vessel to go "on the account." sparks was appointed gunner. sparkes, john. a member of captain avery's crew, and described by one of his shipmates as being "a true cock of the game." a thief, he robbed his fellow-shipmates, and from one, philip middleton, he stole pieces of gold. hanged at execution dock in . spratlin, robert. was one of dampier's party which in crossed the isthmus of darien, when he was left behind in the jungle with wafer. spratlin was lost when the little party attempted to ford the swollen chagres river. he afterwards rejoined wafer. spriggs, captain francis farrington. an uninteresting and bloody pirate without one single redeeming character. he learnt his art with the pirate captain lowther, afterwards serving as quartermaster with captain low and taking an active part in all the barbarities committed by the latter. about low took a prize, a man-of-war called the _squirrel_. this he handed over to some of the crew, who elected spriggs their captain. the ship they renamed the _delight_, and in the night altered their course and left low. they made a flag, bearing upon it a white skeleton, holding in one hand a dart striking a bleeding heart, and in the other an hourglass. sailing to the west indies, spriggs took several prizes, treating the crews with abominable cruelty. on one occasion the pirates chased what they believed to be a spanish ship, and after a long while they came alongside and fired a broadside into her. the ship immediately surrendered, and turned out to be a vessel the pirate had plundered only a few days previously. this infuriated spriggs and his crew, who showed their disappointment by half murdering the captain. after a narrow escape from being captured by a french man-of-war near the island of st. kitts, spriggs sailed north to the summer isles, or bermudas. taking a ship coming from rhode island, they found her cargo to consist of horses. several of the pirates mounted these and galloped up and down the deck until they were thrown. while plundering several small vessels of their cargo of logwood in the bay of honduras, spriggs was surprised and attacked by an english man-of-war, and the pirates only escaped by using their sweeps. spriggs now went for a cruise off the coast of south carolina, returning again to honduras. this was a rash proceeding on spriggs's part, for as he was sailing off the west end of cuba he again met the man-of-war which had so nearly caught him before in the bay. spriggs clapped on all sail, but ran his ship on rattan island, where she was burnt by the _spence_, while captain spriggs and his crew escaped to the woods. springer, captain. he fought gallantly with sawkins and ringrose in the battle of perico off panama on st. george's day in . he gave his name to springer's cay, one of the samballoes islands. this was the rendezvous chosen by the pirates, where dampier and his party found the french pirate ship that rescued them after their famous trudge across the isthmus of darien. stanley, captain. buccaneer. with a few other buccaneers in their stronghold at new providence island in , withstood an attack by a spanish fleet for five days. the three english captains, stanley, sir thomas whetstone, and major smith, were carried to panama and there cast into a dungeon and bound in irons for seventeen months. stedman, captain. buccaneer. in , with captain searle and a party of only eighty men, he took and plundered the dutch island of tobago. later on, after the outbreak of war with france, he was captured by a french frigate off the island of guadeloupe. stedman had a small vessel and a crew of only men, and found himself becalmed and unable to escape, so he boldly boarded the frenchman and fought for two hours, being finally overcome. stephens, william. died on january th, , on board of captain sharp's ship a few days before their return to the barbadoes from the south seas. his death was supposed to have been caused by indulging too freely in mancanilla while ashore at golfo dulce. "next morning we threw overboard our dead man and gave him two french vollies and one english one." stephenson, john. sailed as an honest seaman in the _onslow_ (captain gee) from sestos. taken in may, , by the pirate captain roberts, he willingly joined the pirates. when roberts was killed on board the _royal fortune_, stephenson burst into tears, and declared that he wished the next shot might kill him. hanged in . stiles, richard. hanged in virginia in with the rest of captain teach's crew. storey, thomas. one of william coward's crew which stole the ketch _elinor_ in boston harbour. condemned to be hanged on january th, , but afterwards reprieved. st. quintin, richard. a native of yorkshire. one of m'kinlie's crew that murdered captain glass and his family in the canary ship. afterwards arrested at cork and hanged in chains near dublin on march th, . sturges, captain. an elizabethan pirate, who had his headquarters at rochelle. in company with the notorious pirate calles, he in one year pillaged two portuguese, one french, one spanish, and also a scotch ship. his end is not known. o'sullivan, lord. receiver of pirate plunder. the sulivan bere, of berehaven in ireland. a notorious friend of the english pirates, he bought their spoils, which he stored in his castle. he helped to fit out pirate captains for their cruises, and protected them when queen elizabeth sent ships to try and arrest them. sutton, thomas. born at berwick in . gunner in roberts's ship the _royal fortune_. at his trial he was proved to have been particularly active in helping to take a dutch merchantman, the _gertruycht_. hanged in chains at cape coast castle in april, , at the age of . swan, captain. commanded the _nicholas_, and met dampier when in the _batchelor's delight_ at the island of juan fernandez in . the two captains cruised together off the west coast of south america, the _nicholas_ leaving dampier, who returned to england by way of the east indies. swan, captain. buccaneer. of the _cygnet_. left england as an honest trader. rounded the horn and sailed up to the bay of nicoya, there taking on a crew of buccaneers who had crossed the isthmus of darien on foot. dampier was appointed pilot or quartermaster to the _cygnet_, a post analogous to that of a navigating officer on a modern man-of-war, while ringrose was appointed supercargo. swan had an adventurous and chequered voyage, sometimes meeting with successes, but often with reverses. eventually he sailed to the philippine islands, where the crew mutinied and left swan and thirty-six of the crew behind. after various adventures the _cygnet_, by now in a very crazy state, just managed to reach madagascar, where she sank at her anchorage. switzer, joseph. of boston in new england. tried for piracy at rhode island in , but found to be "not guilty." sympson, david. born at north berwick. one of roberts's crew. tried and hanged at cape coast castle in . on the day of execution sympson was among the first six prisoners to be brought up from the ship's hold to have their fetters knocked off and to be fitted with halters, and it was observed that none of the culprits appeared in the least dejected, except sympson, who "spoke a little faint, but this was rather imputed to a flux that had seized him two or three days before, than fear." there being no clergyman in the colony, a kindly surgeon tried to take on the duties of the ordinary, but with ill-success, the hardened ruffians being quite unmoved by his attempts at exhortation. in fact, the spectators were considerably shocked, as indeed they well might be, by sympson, suddenly recognizing among the crowd a woman whom he knew, calling out "he had lain with that b----h three times, and now she was come to see him hanged." sympson died at the age of , which was considerably above the average age to which a pirate might expect to live. taylor, captain. this formidable south sea pirate must indeed have looked, as well as acted, the part, since his appearance is described by captain johnson as follows: "a fellow with a terrible pair of whiskers, and a wooden leg, being stuck round with pistols, like the man in the almanack with darts." this man taylor it was who stirred up the crew of the _victory_ to turn out and maroon captain england, and elect himself in his place. he was a villain of the deepest dye, and burnt ships and houses and tortured his prisoners. the pirates sailed down the west coast of india from goa to cochin, and returned to mauritius. thence sailing to the island of mascarine they found a big portuguese ship, which they took. in her they discovered the conde de eviceira, viceroy of goa, and, even better, four million dollars worth of diamonds. taylor, now sailing in the _cassandra_, heard that there were four men-of-war on his tracks, so he sailed to delagoa bay and spent the winter of the year there. it was now decided that as they had a huge amount of plunder they had better give up piracy, so they sailed away to the west indies and surrendered themselves to the governor of porto bello. the crew broke up and each man, with a bag of diamonds, went whither he would; but captain taylor joined the spanish service, and was put in command of a man-of-war, which was sent to attack the english logwood cutters in the bay of honduras. taylor, william. one of captain phillips's crew. wounded in the leg while attempting to desert. there being no surgeon on board, a consultation was held over the patient by the whole crew, and these learned men were unanimous in agreeing that the leg should be amputated. some dispute then arose as to who should act the part of surgeon, and at length the carpenter was chosen as the most proper person. "upon which he fetch'd up the biggest saw, and taking the limb under his arm, fell to work, and separated it from the body of the patient in as little time as he could have cut a deal board in two." this surgeon-carpenter evidently appreciated the importance of aseptics, for, "after that he had heated his ax red hot in the fire, cauteriz'd the wound but not with so much art as he perform'd the other part for he so burnt the flesh distant from the place of amputation that it had like to have mortify'd." taylor was tried and condemned to death at boston on may th, , but for some reason not explained was reprieved. teach, captain edward, or thatch, or thach, _alias_ drummond, _alias_ blackbeard. arch-pirate. a bristol man who settled in jamaica, sailing in privateers, but not in the capacity of an officer. in , teach took to piracy, being put in command of a sloop by the pirate benjamin hornigold. in , hornigold and teach sailed together from providence towards the american coast, taking a billop from havana and several other prizes. after careening their vessels on the coast of virginia, the pirates took a fine french guineaman bound to martinico; this ship they armed with forty guns, named her the _queen ann's revenge_, and blackbeard went aboard as captain. teach now had a ship that allowed him to go for larger prizes, and he began by taking a big ship called the _great allen_, which he plundered and then set fire to. a few days later, teach was attacked by h.m.s. _scarborough_, of thirty guns, but after a sharp engagement lasting some hours, the pirate was able to drive off the king's ship. the next ship he met with was the sloop of that amateur pirate and landsman, major stede bonnet. teach and bonnet became friends and sailed together for a few days, when teach, finding that bonnet was quite ignorant of maritime matters, ordered the major, in the most high-handed way, to come aboard his ship, while he put another officer in command of bonnet's vessel. teach now took ship after ship, one of which, with the curious name of the _protestant cæsar_, the pirates burnt out of spite, not because of her name, but because she belonged to boston, where there had lately been a hanging of pirates. blackbeard now sailed north along the american coast, arriving off charleston, south carolina. here he lay off the bar for several days, seizing every vessel that attempted to enter or leave the port, "striking great terror to the whole province of carolina," the more so since the colony was scarcely recovered from a recent visit by another pirate, vane. being in want of medicines, teach sent his lieutenant, richards, on shore with a letter to the governor demanding that he should instantly send off a medicine chest, or else teach would murder all his prisoners, and threatening to send their heads to government house; many of these prisoners being the chief persons of the colony. teach, who was unprincipled, even for a pirate, now commanded three vessels, and he wanted to get rid of his crews and keep all the booty for himself and a few chosen friends. to do this, he contrived to wreck his own vessel and one of his sloops. then with his friends and all the booty he sailed off, leaving the rest marooned on a small sandy island. teach next sailed to north carolina, and with the greatest coolness surrendered with twenty of his men to the governor, charles eden, and received the royal pardon. the ex-pirate spent the next few weeks in cultivating an intimate friendship with the governor, who, no doubt, shared teach's booty with him. a romantic episode took place at this time at bath town. the pirate fell in love, not by any means for the first time, with a young lady of years of age. to show his delight at this charming union, the governor himself married the happy pair, this being the captain's fourteenth wife; though certain bath town gossips were heard to say that there were no fewer than twelve mrs. teach still alive at different ports up and down the west india islands. in june, , the bridegroom felt that the call of duty must be obeyed, so kissing good-bye to the new mrs. teach, he sailed away to the bermudas, meeting on his way half a dozen ships, which he plundered, and then hurried back to share the spoils with the governor of north carolina and his secretary, mr. knight. for several months, blackbeard remained in the river, exacting a toll from all the shipping, often going ashore to make merry at the expense of the planters. at length, things became so unbearable that the citizens and planters sent a request to the governor of the neighbouring colony of virginia for help to rid them of the presence of teach. the governor, spotswood, an energetic man, at once made plans for taking the pirate, and commissioned a gallant young naval officer, lieutenant robert maynard, of h.m.s. _pearl_, to go in a sloop, the _ranger_, in search of him. on november , , the lieutenant sailed for kicquetan in the james river, and on the st arrived at the mouth of okerecock inlet, where he discovered the pirate he was in search of. blackbeard would have been caught unprepared had not his friend, mr. secretary knight, hearing what was on foot, sent a letter warning him to be on his guard, and also any of teach's crew whom he could find in the taverns of bath town. maynard lost no time in attacking the pirate's ship, which had run aground. the fight was furious, teach boarding the sloop and a terrific hand-to-hand struggle taking place, the lieutenant and teach fighting with swords and pistols. teach was wounded in twenty-five places before he fell dead, while the lieutenant escaped with nothing worse than a cut over the fingers. maynard now returned in triumph in his sloop to bath town, with the head of blackbeard hung up to the bolt-spit end, and received a tremendous ovation from the inhabitants. during his meteoric career as a pirate, the name of blackbeard was one that created terror up and down the coast of america from newfoundland to trinidad. this was not only due to the number of ships teach took, but in no small measure to his alarming appearance. teach was a tall, powerful man, with a fierce expression, which was increased by a long, black beard which grew from below his eyes and hung down to a great length. this he plaited into many tails, each one tied with a coloured ribbon and turned back over his ears. when going into action, teach wore a sling on his shoulders with three pairs of pistols, and struck lighted matches under the brim of his hat. these so added to his fearful appearance as to strike terror into all beholders. teach had a peculiar sense of humour, and one that could at times cause much uneasiness amongst his friends. thus we are told that one day on the deck of his ship, being at the time a little flushed with wine, blackbeard addressed his crew, saying: "come let us make a hell of our own, and try how long we can bear it," whereupon teach, with several others, descended to the hold, shut themselves in, and then set fire to several pots of brimstone. for a while they stood it, choking and gasping, but at length had to escape to save themselves from being asphyxiated, but the last to give up was the captain, who was wont to boast afterwards that he had outlasted all the rest. then there was that little affair in the cabin, when teach blew out the candle and in the dark fired his pistols under the table, severely wounding one of his guests in the knee, for no other reason, as he explained to them afterwards, than "if he did not shoot one or two of them now and then they'd forget who he was." teach kept a log or journal, which unfortunately is lost, but the entries for two days have been preserved, and are worth giving, and seem to smack of robert louis stevenson in "treasure island." the entries, written in teach's handwriting, run as follows: " . rum all out--our company somewhat sober--a damn'd confusion amongst us!--rogues a plotting--great talk of separation--so i look'd sharp for a prize. " . took one, with a great deal of liquor on board, so kept the company hot, damned hot, then all things went well again." teague, robert. a scotch pirate, one of captain gow's crew. on may th, , the crew were tried in london and found guilty and sentenced to death, except teague and two others who were acquitted. templeton, john. one of captain john quelch's crew of the ship _charles_. tried for piracy at boston in , but, being discovered to be not yet years of age and only a servant on board the pirate ship, was acquitted. tew, captain thomas, or too. a famous pirate, whose headquarters were at madagascar. he was mentioned by name in king william iii.'s royal warrant to captain kidd to go hunting for pirates, as a specially "wicked and ill-disposed person." he sailed with captain dew from the barbadoes with a commission from the governor to join with the royal african company in an attack on the french factory at goori, at gambia. instead of going to west africa, tew and his crew turned pirates, and sailed to the red sea. here he met with a great indian ship, which he had the hardiness to attack, and soon took her, and each of his men received as his share £ , , and with this booty they sailed to madagascar. he was already held in high esteem by the pirates who resided in that favourite stronghold. at one time he joined misson, the originator of "piracy-without-tears" at his garden city of libertatia. a quarrel arose between misson's french followers and tew's english pirates. a duel was arranged between the two leaders, but by the tact of another pirate--an unfrocked italian priest--all was settled amicably, tew being appointed admiral and the diplomatic ex-priest suitably chosen as secretary of state to the little republic. such a reputation for kindness had tew that ships seldom resisted him, but on knowing who their assailant was they gave themselves up freely. some of tew's men started a daughter colony on their own account, and the admiral sailed after them to try and persuade them to return to the fold at libertatia. the men refused, and while tew was arguing and trying to persuade them to change their minds, his ship was lost in a sudden storm. tew was soon rescued by the ship _bijoux_ with misson on board, who, with a few men, had escaped being massacred by the natives. misson, giving tew an equal share of his gold and diamonds, sailed away, while tew managed to return to rhode island in new england, where he settled down for a while. to show the honesty of this man, being now affluent, he kept a promise to the friends in bermuda who originally set him up with a ship, by sending them fourteen times the original cost of the sloop as their just share of the profits. at last, tew found the call of the sea and the lure of the "grand account" too great to resist, and he consented to take command of a pirate ship which was to go on a cruise in the red sea. arrived there, tew attacked a big ship belonging to the great mogul, and during the battle was mortally wounded. his historian tells us "a shot carried away the rim of tew's belly, who held his bowels with his hands for some space. when he dropped, it struck such terror to his men that they suffered themselves to be taken without further resistance." thus fell fighting a fine sailor, a brave man, and a successful pirate, and one who cheated the gallows awaiting him at execution dock. thomas, captain, _alias_ stede bonnet. thomas, john. of jamaica. this welsh pirate was one of major stede bonnet's crew of the _royal james_. hanged at charleston, south carolina, in . thompson, captain. a renegade pirate who joined the barbary corsairs, becoming a mohammedan. commanded a pirate vessel, and was taken prisoner off the coast of ireland by an elizabethan ship. hanged at wapping. thurbar, richard. tried for piracy at boston in . thurston, captain. buccaneer. of tortuga island. refused to accept the royal offer of pardon of , when all commissions to privateer on the spanish were revoked. thurston, with a mulatto, diego, using obsolete commissions issued by the late governor of jamaica, modyford, continued to prey upon spanish shipping, carrying their prizes to tortuga. thwaites, captain joseph. coxswain to captain hood, he was promoted in to be a midshipman in h.m.s. _zealous_, cruising in the mediterranean. putting into algiers, thwaites was sent ashore by the captain to buy some sheep, but did not return to the boat and, it being supposed he had been assassinated, the ship sailed without him. the fact was that young thwaites, who spoke turkish and greek, had accepted an invitation to enter the ottoman service. embracing the mohammedan religion, thwaites was put in command of a forty-four gun frigate. his first engagement was with the flagship of the tunisian admiral, which he took and carried to algiers. he soon brought in another prize, and so pleased the dey that he presented him with a scimitar, the hilt of which was set with diamonds. thwaites, having soiled his hands with blood, now became the pirate indeed, taking vessels of any nation, and drowning all his prisoners by tying a double-headed shot round their necks and throwing them overboard. he stopped at no atrocity--even children were killed, and one prisoner, an english lieutenant and an old shipmate of his, called roberts, he murdered without a second thought. when thwaites happened to be near gibraltar, he would go ashore and through his agents, messrs. ross and co., transmit large sums of money to his wife and children in england. but thwaites had another home at algiers fitted with every luxury, including three armenian girls. for several years this successful pirate plundered ships of all nations until such pressure was brought to bear on the dey of algiers that thwaites thought it best to collect what valuables he could carry away and disappear. landing at gibraltar in , dressed in european clothes, he procured a passage to new york in an american frigate, the _constitution_. arriving in the united states, he purchased an estate not far from new york and built himself a handsome mansion, but a year later retribution came from an unlooked-for quarter, for he was bitten by a rattlesnake and died in the most horrible agonies both of mind and body. tomkins, john. of gloucestershire. hanged at the age of at rhode island in . one of charles harris's crew. topping, dennis. he shipped on board the sloop _buck_ at providence in , in company with anstis and other famous pirates. was killed at the taking of a rich portuguese ship off the coast of brazil. townley, captain. buccaneer. a buccaneer who in the year was one of the mixed english and french fleet blockading panama. on this occasion, he commanded a ship with a crew of men. by the next year the quarrels between the english had reached such a pitch that townley and swan left davis and sailed in search of their french friends. in may, , townley was amongst the company that took and sacked guayaquil. in january, , townley rescued the french pirate grogniet and some frenchmen who, when attacking the town of quibo, were surprised by a spanish squadron, which burnt their vessels while the crews were on shore. townley then sailed north with his french comrades and sacked granada. his next adventure was to take the town of lavelia, near to panama, where he found a rich cargo which the viceroy had placed on shore because he was afraid to send it to sea when so many pirates were about. in august of the same year, townley's ship was attacked by three spanish men-of-war. a furious fight took place, which ended by two of the spanish ships being captured and the third burnt. in this action the gallant townley was gravely wounded, and died shortly afterwards. tristrian, captain. french buccaneer. in the year dampier, with other malcontents, broke away from captain sharp and marched on foot across the isthmus of darien. after undergoing terrible hardships for twenty-two days, the party arrived on the atlantic seaboard, to find captain tristrian with his ship lying in la sounds cay. the buccaneers bought red, blue, and green beads, and knives, scissors, and looking-glasses from the french pirates to give to their faithful indian guides as parting gifts. tryer, matthew. a carolina pirate, accused and acquitted on a charge of having captured a sloop belonging to samuel salters, of bermuda, in . tucker, robert. of the island of jamaica. one of major stede bonnet's crew. tried, condemned, and hanged at charleston, south carolina, on november th, . the prisoners were not defended by counsel, because the members of the south carolina bar still deemed it "a base and vile thing to plead for money or reward." we understand that the barristers of south carolina have since persuaded themselves to overcome this prejudice. the result was that, with the famous judge trott, a veritable terror to pirates, being president of the court of vice-admiralty, the prisoners had short and ready justice, and all but four of the thirty-five pirates tried were found guilty. tuckerman, captain. sailed with captain porter in the west indies. captain johnson gives an account of the meeting between these two pirate novices and the great captain roberts at hispaniola. turnley, captain richard. a new providence pirate who received the general pardon from captain woodes rogers in . when, a little later, the scandal of captain rackam's infatuation for anne bonny was causing such gossip among the two thousand ex-pirates who formed the population of the settlement, it was turnley who brought news of the affair to the notice of the governor. in revenge for this action, rackam and his lady, one day hearing that turnley had sailed to a neighbouring island to catch turtles, followed him. it happened that turnley was on shore hunting wild pigs and so escaped, but rackam sank his sloop and took his crew away with him as prisoners. tyle, captain ort van. a dutchman from new york. a successful pirate in the days of the madagascan sea-rovers. for some time he sailed in company with captain james, taking several prizes in the indian ocean. van tyle had a plantation at madagascar and used to put his prisoners to work there as slaves, one in particular being the notorious welsh pirate, david williams, who toiled with van tyles's other slaves for six months before making his escape to a friendly tribe in the neighbourhood. upton, boatswain john. born in of honest parents at deptford. apprenticed to a waterman, he afterwards went to sea, serving on different men-of-war as a petty officer. until july, , when years of age, upton lived a perfectly honest life, but his wife dying, upton found she had contracted various debts and that he was in danger of being arrested by the creditors. leaving his four orphans, upton hurried to poole in dorsetshire, and was taken on as boatswain in the _john and elizabeth_ (captain hooper), bound for bonavista in newfoundland. he seems to have continued to sail as an honest seaman until november th, , when serving as boatswain in the _perry_ galley, on a voyage between barbadoes and bristol, the vessel was taken by a pirate, cooper, in the _night rambler_. at his subsequent trial witnesses declared that upton willingly joined the pirates, signed their articles, and was afterwards one of their most active and cruel men. upton kept a journal, which was his only witness for his defence, in which he described how he was forced to sign the pirates' articles under threats of instant death. if his journal is to be believed, upton escaped from the pirates at the first opportunity, landing on the mosquito coast. after being arrested by the spaniards as a spy, he was sent from one prison to another in central america, at last being put on board a galleon at porto bello, to be sent to spain. escaping, he got aboard a new york sloop and arrived at jamaica in december, . while at port royal he was pressed on board h.m.s. _nottingham_, serving in her for more than two years as quartermaster, until one day he was accused of having been a pirate. under this charge he was brought a prisoner to england in , tried in london, and hanged, protesting his innocence to the last. uruj. see barbarossa. vallanueva, captain. a dominican. commanded in a small gaff-topsail schooner, the _general morazan_, armed with a brass eight-pounder and carrying a mixed crew of forty-four men, french, italian, english, and creoles of st. domingo. vanclein, captain moses. dutch filibuster. was serving with l'ollonais's fleet off the coast of yucatan when a mutiny broke out, of which vanclein was the ringleader. he persuaded the malcontents to sail with him along the coast till they came to costa rica. there they landed and marched to the town of veraguas, which they seized and pillaged. the pirates got little booty, only eight pounds of gold, it proving to be a poor place. vane, captain charles. famous for his piratical activities off the coast of north america, specially the carolinas. in , when woodes rogers was sent by the english government to break up the pirate stronghold in the bahama islands, all the pirates at new providence island surrendered to rogers and received the king's pardon except vane, who, after setting fire to a prize he had, slipped out of the bay as rogers with his two men-of-war entered. vane sailed to the coast of carolina, as did other west indian pirates who found their old haunts too warm for them. vane is first heard of as being actively engaged in stealing from the spaniards the silver which they were salving from a wrecked galleon in the gulf of florida. tiring of this, vane stole a vessel and ranged up and down the coast from florida to new york, taking ship after ship, until at last the governor of south carolina sent out a colonel rhet in an armed sloop to try and take him. on one occasion vane met the famous blackbeard, whom he saluted with his great guns loaded with shot. this compliment of one pirate chief to another was returned in like kind, and then "mutual civilities" followed for several days between the two pirate captains and their crews, these civilities taking the form of a glorious debauch in a quiet creek on the coast. vane soon had a change of fortune, when, meeting with a french man-of-war, he decided to decline an engagement and to seek safety in flight, greatly to the anger of his crew. for this he was obliged to stand the test of the vote of the whole crew, who passed a resolution against his honour and dignity, and branded him a coward, deprived him of his command, and packed him off with a few of his adherents in a small sloop. vane, not discouraged by this reverse of fortune, rose again from the bottom rung of the ladder to success, and quickly increased in strength of ships and crew, until one day, being overcome by a sudden tornado, he lost everything but his life, being washed up on a small uninhabited island off the honduras coast. here he managed to support life by begging food from the fishermen who occasionally came there in their canoes. at last a ship put in for water, commanded by one captain holford, who happened to be an old friend of vane's. vane naturally was pleased at this piece of good fortune, and asked his dear old friend to take him off the island in his ship, to which holford replied: "charles, i shan't trust you aboard my ship, unless i carry you as a prisoner, for i shall have you caballing with my men, knock me on the head, and run away with my ship a-pirating." no promises of good behaviour from vane would prevail on his friend to rescue him; in fact, captain holford's parting remark was that he would be returning in a month, and that if he then found vane still on the island he would carry him to jamaica to be hanged. soon after holford's departure another ship put in for water, none of the crew of which knew vane by sight, and he was too crafty to let them find out the notorious pirate he was. they consented to take off the shipwrecked mariner, when, just as all seemed to be going well, back came the ship of friend holford. holford, who seems to have been a sociable kind of man, was well acquainted with the captain who was befriending vane, and holford was invited to dine on board his ship. as the guest was passing along the deck of his host's ship on his way to the great cabin he chanced to glance down the open hold, and there who should he see but his dear old friend vane hard at work; for he had already won his new master's good graces by being a "brisk hand." holford at once informed his host that he was entertaining a notorious pirate, and with his consent clapped vane in irons, and removed him to his own ship, and when he arrived in jamaica handed his old friend to the justices, who quickly tried, convicted, and hanged him. vanhorn, captain nicholas. a dutch filibuster. of hispaniola. sailed from england in in command of the _mary and martha_, _alias_ the _st. nicholas_, a merchant ship. vanhorn soon showed his hand by putting two of his merchants ashore at cadiz and stealing four spanish guns. next he sailed to the canary islands, and then to the guinea coast, plundering ships and stealing negroes, until november, , when he arrived at the city of san domingo. in april, , he picked up some buccaneers at petit goave, and joined the filibuster laurens in the gulf of honduras with six other buccaneer captains, who were planning an attack on the rich city of vera cruz. the fleet arrived off the city in may, and the pirates, hearing that the spaniards were expecting the arrival of two ships from caracas, they crowded a landing party of men into two ships, and, displaying spanish colours, stood in boldly for the city. the inhabitants, imagining these were the ships they were expecting, actually lit bonfires to pilot them into the harbour. landing on may th two miles away, they soon found themselves masters of the town and forts, all the sentinels being asleep. for four days they plundered the churches, convents, and houses, and threatened to burn the cathedral, in which they had put all the prisoners, unless more booty was forthcoming. an englishman found the governor hiding in some hay in a loft, and he was ransomed for , pieces of eight. while this was taking place a spanish fleet of fourteen ships had arrived from cadiz, and anchored just outside the harbour, but would not venture to land nor to attack the buccaneer ships. the buccaneers, feeling it was time to depart, sailed right past the fleet without opposition to a cay not far off, and there divided the spoils; each of the , sailors getting pieces of eight as his share, while vanhorn's own share, was , pieces of eight. this division of the spoil did not take place without some bickering, and the two leaders, vanhorn and laurens, came to blows, and vanhorn was wounded in the wrist. although the wound was little more than a scratch, he died of gangrene a fortnight later. it is significant that vanhorn had originally been sent out by the governor of hispaniola to hunt for pirates, but once out of sight of land and away from authority the temptation to get rich quickly was too great to resist, so that he joined the pirates in the expedition to sack vera cruz. veale, captain. on july st, , he arrived at new london in a sloop, but was compelled to hurry away, being recognized as a pirate by one of the crew of a ship he had previously taken in virginia. veale, thomas. one of four new england pirates who in the middle of the seventeenth century rowed up the saugus river and landed at a place called lynn woods. the boat contained, besides the pirates, a quantity of plunder and a beautiful young woman. they built a hut on dungeon rock, dug a well, and lived there until the woman died. three of the pirates were captured, and ended their days on the gallows in england. thomas veale escaped and went to live in a cave, where he is supposed to have hidden his booty, but he continued to work as a cordwainer. in the earthquake of the cave was blocked up by pieces of rock, and veale was never seen again. verpre, captain. french filibuster. his ship _le postillion_ carried a crew of twenty-five men and was armed with two guns. vigeron, captain. french filibuster. of san domingo. commanded a bark, _la louse_, thirty men and four guns. villa rise. in the year this moorish pirate commanded a small squadron of five vessels which took an english ship, the _george bonaventure_ (captain john rawlins, plymouth), in the straits of gibraltar. one of the finest deeds ever achieved by english sailors was the escape of rawlins and some of his crew from the moors at alexandria in a stolen ship. van vin, moses. buccaneer. one of l'ollonais's officers. after burning puerto cavallo and torturing and murdering the inhabitants, l'ollonais marched away to attack the town of san pedro with of his crew, leaving van vin as his lieutenant to govern the rest of his men during his absence. virgin, henry. of bristol. one of major stede bonnet's crew of the _royal james_. hanged for piracy at white point, charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. vivon, captain m. la. french filibuster. commanded the _cour valant_ of la rochelle. in december, , his ship was seized by captain collier for having robbed an english ship of provisions. wafer, lionel. surgeon, buccaneer, and author. believed to have been born about the year . he could speak gaelic and also erse, which languages he had learnt during his childhood, which was spent partly in the highlands of scotland and partly in ireland. in he sailed as mate to the surgeon of the _great ann_, of london (captain zachary browne), bound for java. two years later, he again sailed as surgeon's mate on a voyage to the west indies. he deserted his ship at jamaica and set himself up as a surgeon at port royal, but one day meeting with two noted buccaneers, captain linch and captain cook, he agreed to sail with them as ship's surgeon. wafer's subsequent adventures are recounted by basil ringrose in his "dangerous voyage and bold assaults of captain bartholomew sharp and others," and by william dampier in his "new voyage round the world." after taking part in in the futile expedition of the buccaneers to panama, wafer joined the party of malcontents who left captain sharp and returned on foot across the isthmus of darien. wafer was accidentally wounded in the knee by an explosion of gunpowder on may th, , which he recounts in his narrative as follows: "i was sitting on the ground near one of our men, who was drying of gunpowder in a silver plate: but not managing it as he should, it blew up and scorch'd my knee to that degree, that the bone was left bare, the flesh being torn away, and my thigh burnt for a great way above it. i applied to it immediately such remedies as i had in my knapsack: and being unwilling to be left behind by my companions, i made hard shift to jog on." the whole story of these adventures is told by wafer in a book he wrote, and which was published in london in . it is called "a new voyage and description of the isthmus of america, giving an account of the author's abode there," and is illustrated by some quaint copperplates. wafer and his companions suffered extreme hardships as they struggled through the dense tropical jungle during the wettest season of the year. on one occasion when in danger of his life, wafer was spared by the indians owing to his skill as a phlebotomist, after he had been allowed to exhibit his skill to an indian chief called lacentra, when he bled one of his wives so successfully that the chief made wafer his inseparable companion, to the no little discomfort of the buccaneer, who wished to reach the atlantic and rejoin his companions who had left him behind. wafer described the birds, animals, fishes, and insects with considerable minuteness, although it is obvious that he had no special training in, or great gift for, natural history. wafer eventually reached philadelphia, where he availed himself of king james's general pardon to pirates. wake, captain thomas. a notorious pirate, one of those particularly named in the royal warrant issued in to captain kidd, authorizing him to go in search of the american pirates. walden, john, _alias_ "miss nanney." born in somersetshire. taken in the _blessing_, of lymington, by roberts in newfoundland, he joined the pirates, and was later on hanged at the age of in west africa. walden was one of captain roberts's most active men. on taking captain traher's ship, walden carried a pole-axe with which he wrenched open locked doors and boxes. he was a bold and daring man, of violent temper, and was known amongst his shipmates by the nickname of miss nanney. he lost a leg during the attack on the _swallow_. after the pirates took the _king solomon_, walden had to get up the anchor, but he cut the cable, explaining to the captain that the weather was too hot to go straining and crying "yo hope," and he could easily buy another anchor when he got to london. wansley, thomas. a negro steward on the brig _vineyard_, he mutinied and assisted to murder the captain and mate, afterwards becoming one of captain charles gibbs's crew. hanged at new york in february, . want, captain. a carolina pirate who was referred to at the trial of captain avery's crew at london in . ward. one of the first english pirates to establish himself on the barbary coast in north africa. by the year some thirty others had their headquarters at the mouth of the sebu river. ward, captain. as a poor english sailor he went to barbary, turned mohammedan, offered his services to the moors, and became captain of a galley. he grew to be very rich, and "lived like a bashaw in barbary." warren, william. joined captain pound's crew from lovell's island. waters, john. of devonshire. quartermaster to captain charles harris. tried and hanged at newport, rhode island, on july th, . aged . watkins, john. an english soldier stationed at fort loyal, falmouth, maine. deserted and sailed with the pirate pound. killed at tarpaulin cove in . watling, captain john. buccaneer. when bartholomew sharp's crew mutinied on new year's day in on the _most holy trinity_, they clapped their captain in irons and put him down below on the ballast, and elected an old pirate and a "stout seaman," john watling, in his place. one of the reasons for the revolt was said to be the ungodliness of captain sharp. watling began his command by giving orders for the strict keeping of the sabbath day, and on january th the buccaneers observed sunday as a day apart, the first for many months. one of the first acts of this godly captain watling was to cruelly shoot an old man, a prisoner, whom he suspected, quite wrongly, of not telling the truth. on january th watling headed a surprise attack on the town of arica in north chile, but it turned out later that the spaniards had three days' warning of the intended attack, and had gathered together no less than , defenders. a furious attack was made, with great slaughter of the spanish defenders and considerable loss amongst the pirates. in one attack watling placed of his prisoners in front of his storming party, hoping this would prevent the enemy firing at them. after taking the town, the buccaneers were driven out owing to the arrival of a number of lima soldiers. during the retreat from the town watling was shot in the liver and died. perhaps he gave his name to watling island in the bahama islands, the first spot of america that christopher columbus ever saw, and a great resort of the buccaneers. watson, henry. one of captain lowther's crew in the _happy delivery_. hanged at st. kitts on march th, . watts, edward. born at dunmore. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged in at the age of . watts, samuel. of lovell's island. one of captain pound's crew. watts, william. an irishman. hanged, at the age of , along with the rest of roberts's crew. way, john. tried at boston in for piracy with the rest of the crew of the _charles_ brigantine. weaver, captain brigstock. of hereford, england. one of captain anstis's crew in the _good fortune_ when he took the _morning star_. after the prize had been converted for anstis's use, weaver was given command of the _good fortune_. he proved himself to be a capable pirate captain, taking between fifty and sixty sailing ships in the west indies and on the banks of newfoundland. here are particulars of a few of his prizes: in august, , he took a dutch ship, and out of her got pieces of holland, value £ , and , pieces of eight. on november th in the same year he plundered the _dolphin_, of london (captain william haddock), of pieces of eight and forty gallons of rum. out of the _don carlos_ (lot neekins, master) he stole ounces of silver, fifty gallons of rum, , pieces of eight, pistols, and other valuable goods. out of the _portland_, ten pipes of wine valued at £ . this period of prosperity came to an end, for in may, , weaver, dressed in rags, was begging charity at the door of a mr. thomas smith in bristol, telling a plausible tale of how he had been taken and robbed by some wicked pirates, but had lately managed to escape from them. the kindly mr. smith, together with a captain edwards, gave weaver £ and provided him with a lodging at the griffin inn. being now dressed in good clothes, weaver enjoyed walking about the streets of bristol, until one day he met with a sea-captain who claimed former acquaintance and invited him into a neighbouring tavern to share a bottle of wine with him. over this the captain reminded the pirate that he had been one of his victims, and that weaver had once stolen from him a considerable quantity of liquor; but at the same time he had not forgotten that the pirate had used him very civilly, and that therefore, if he would give him four hogsheads of cider, nothing further would be said about the matter. weaver would not, or could not, produce these, and was apprehended, brought to london, and there tried and sentenced to death, and hanged at execution dock. wells, lieutenant joseph. an officer on board captain john quelch's _charles_ galley. attempted to escape at gloucester, massachusetts, in the _larimore_, but was captured by major sewell and brought to salem, and there secured in the town gaol until tried for piracy at boston in june, . west, richard. one of captain lowther's crew. hanged at st. kitts in march, . wetherley, tee. a massachusetts pirate, with only one eye. captured in with the pirate joseph bradish and put in prison. they escaped two months later. a reward of £ was offered for the recapture of wetherley, which was gained by a kennekeck indian called essacambuit, who brought him back to prison. he was taken, in irons, to england in h.m.s. _advice_ in , and tried and hanged in london. whetstone, sir thomas, or whitstone. buccaneer. in he commanded a ship, a spanish prize, armed with seven guns and carrying a crew of sixty men. in august, , sir thomas was with a small english garrison of some sixty men in the buccaneer stronghold of new providence in the bahama islands. suddenly a spanish fleet arrived from porto bello, and after a siege of three days the garrison capitulated. the three english captains were carried prisoners to panama and there cast into a dungeon and bound in irons for seventeen months. white, captain thomas. south sea pirate. an englishman. born at plymouth. as a young man he was taken prisoner by a french pirate off the coast of guinea. the french massacred their prisoners by painting targets on their chests and using them for rifle practice. white alone was saved by an heroic frenchman throwing himself in front of him and receiving the volley in his own body. white sailed with the french pirates, who were wrecked on the coast of madagascar. white himself managed to escape, and found safety with a native, king bavaw, but the french pirates were all massacred. white not very long afterwards joined another pirate ship, commanded by a captain read, with whom he sailed, helping to take several prizes, amongst others a slave ship, the _speaker_. white soon found himself possessed of a considerable fortune, and settled down with his crew at a place called methelage in madagascar, marrying a native woman, and leading the peaceful life of a planter. the call of piracy at length proving irresistible, he sailed before the mast with captain halsey, then returned to his native wife and home, shortly afterwards to die of fever. in his will, he left legacies to various relatives and friends, and appointed three guardians for his son, all of different nationalities, with instructions that the boy should be taken to england to be educated, which was duly done. white was buried with the full ceremonies of the church of england, his sword and pistols being carried on his coffin, and three english and one french volley fired over his grave. white, james. hanged in virginia in along with the rest of captain edward teach's crew. white, robert. one of captain george lowther's crew. hanged on march nd, , at st. kitts. white, william. a newfoundland fish-splitter. with john phillips and three others, he stole a fishing-boat at st. peter's harbour in newfoundland in august, . the other four were made officers in the pirate craft, white having the distinction of being the only private man in the crew of five. he appears to have been a man lacking in ambition, as he never showed any desire to become even a petty officer amongst the pirates; in fact, we hear no more of william until june nd, , when he was hanged at boston and "dy'd very penitently, with the assistance of two grave divines that attended him." whitting, william. one of captain quelch's crew. in we read that he "lyes sick, like to dye, not yet examined" in the gaol at marblehead, when awaiting trial for piracy. wife, francis. an unwilling mutineer with philip roche in a french vessel sailing from cork in . wiles, william. one of john quelch's crew of the brigantine _charles_. tried at boston in . wilgress, captain. buccaneer. of jamaica. sent by the governor of jamaica in to search for, and capture or sink, a dutchman called captain yallahs, who had entered the spanish service to cruise against the english logwood cutters. but wilgress, instead of carrying out his orders, went a-buccaneering on his own account, chasing a spanish vessel ashore, stealing logwood, and burning spanish houses along the coast. williams, captain john, _alias_ "yanky." buccaneer. in , when the pirate hamlin in his famous ship, _la trompeuse_, was playing havoc with the english shipping around jamaica, governor lynch offered williams a free pardon, men, victuals, and naturalization, and £ as well if he would catch the frenchman. williams, captain morris. buccaneer. in november, , he applied to governor modyford to be allowed to bring into port royal, jamaica, a rich prize of logwood, indigo, and silver, and, in spite of the governor's refusal, he brought the ship in. the goods were seized and sold in the interest of the spanish owner. at this time the english government was doing all it could to stamp out the pirates and buccaneers. williams, captain paul. a carolina pirate, who began as a wrecker with the pirate bellamy in the west indies. he later on took to piracy and ended a not too glorious career by being hanged at eastman, massachusetts. williams was one of the pirates who accepted king george's offer of pardon at new providence island in . williams, david. this son of a welsh farmer was a poor pirate but a born soldier. he was described by one who knew him as being morose, sour, unsociable, and ill-tempered, and that he "knew as little of the sea or of ships as he did of the arts of natural philosophy." but it is recorded to his credit that he was not cruel. he started life in a merchant ship bound for india, and was accidentally left behind in madagascar. taken care of by friendly natives, he fought so well on the side of his benefactors in an inter-tribal battle that the king made him his intimate friend. a little later this tribe was wiped out and williams taken prisoner. the king of this hostile tribe, knowing williams to be a brave man, put him in charge of his army, for his success as a leader was known far and wide. he was next seized by a very powerful king, dempaino, who made him commander-in-chief over his army of , men, and supplied him with slaves, clothes, and everything he could want. after several years as commander of dempaino's army, a pirate ship, the _mocha_ (captain culliford), arrived on the coast, and williams escaped in her and went for a cruise. he was afterwards captured by the dutch pirate ort van tyle of new york, and made to work as a slave on his plantation. after six months he escaped and sought safety with a prince rebaiharang, with whom he lived for a year. he next joined a dutchman, pro, who had a small settlement, to be again taken prisoner by an english frigate. in a skirmish between the crew and some natives, williams and pro managed to escape, and, procuring a boat, joined captain white's pirates at methalage, in madagascar. williams now spent his time pirating, unsuccessfully, until one day in a sloop he attempted a raid on an arab town at boyn. this attempt proved a fiasco, and williams was caught by the arabs, cruelly tortured, and finally killed by a lance thrust. he was so loved and admired by the madagascar natives that his friend and benefactor, king dempaino, seized the arab chief of boyn and executed him in revenge for the death of williams. williams seems to have been as much beloved by the natives as he was hated by men of his own colour. as a pirate he was a failure, but as a soldier of fortune with the native tribes he was a great success. williams, john. a cornish pirate, who sailed from jamaica with captain morrice, and was captured by the dutch. eventually he reached boston, and sailed with captain roderigo in in the _edward and thomas_, a boston vessel. tried for piracy, but acquitted. williams, lieutenant james. welsh pirate. sailed as a hand on board the _george_ galley from amsterdam in . conspiring with gow to bring about a mutiny, he took an active part in murdering the captain, the chief mate, super cargo, and surgeon. gow promoted him to be his mate. he was a violent, brutal man, and a bully. on one occasion, he accused gow of cowardice, and snapped his pistol in gow's face, but the weapon failed to go off, and two seamen standing by shot williams, wounding him in the arm and belly. the next day gow sent away a crew of prisoners in a sloop he had taken and plundered, and williams, heavily manacled, was cast into the hold of this vessel, with orders that he should be given up as a pirate to the first english man-of-war they should meet with. he was taken to lisbon and there put on board h.m.s. _argyle_, and carried to london. when gow and his crew eventually arrived in irons at the marshalsea prison, they found williams already there awaiting trial. hanged at newgate on june th, , his body being hanged in chains at blackwall. williams, william. "habitation--nigh plymouth." one of captain roberts's crew. deserted the pirates at sierra leone, but was delivered up by the negroes, and as a punishment received two lashes from the whole ship's company. hanged at the age of . willis, robert. one of captain george lowther's crew. tried for piracy at st. kitts in march, , and acquitted. wilson, alexander. one of the mutineers of the ship _antonio_. hanged at boston in . wilson, george. surgeon and pirate. originally he sailed as surgeon in a liverpool ship, the _tarlton_, which was taken by the pirate bartholomew roberts. wilson voluntarily joined the pirates. one day, being accidentally left on shore, he had to remain amongst the negroes at sestos on the west coast of africa for five months, until he was eventually rescued by a captain sharp, of the _elizabeth_, who ransomed wilson for the value of £ s. in goods. wilson was again captured by roberts, and served with him as surgeon. at his trial for piracy at cape coast castle in , witnesses proved that wilson was "very alert and cheerful at meeting with roberts, hailed him, told him he was glad to see him, and would come on board presently, borrowing a clean shirt and drawers" from the witness "for his better appearance and reception: signed the articles willingly," and tried to persuade him, the witness, to sign also, as then they would each get £ or £ a man in the next voyage to brazil. when the election of senior surgeon took place, wilson wanted to be appointed, as then he would receive a bigger share of the booty. wilson became very intimate with captain roberts, and told him that if ever they were taken by one of the "turnip-man's ships"--_i.e.,_ a man-of-war--they would blow up their ship and go to hell together. but the surgeon proved such a lazy ruffian, neglecting to dress the wounded crew, that roberts threatened to cut his ears off. at the trial wilson was found guilty and condemned to be hanged, but his execution was withheld until the king's pleasure was known, because it was believed that owing to information given by wilson a mutiny of the prisoners was prevented. wilson, james. of dublin. one of major stede bonnet's crew in the _royal james_. hanged at charleston, south carolina, on november th, , and buried in the marsh below low-water mark. wilson, john. of new london county. tried for piracy in at newport, rhode island, and acquitted. winter, captain christopher. of new providence island. he took a sloop off the coast of jamaica, the mate on board which was one edward england, who, on winter's persuasion, turned pirate and soon reached the summit of his new profession. in winter accepted the king's offer of pardon to all pirates who surrendered. winter soon afterwards not only returned to piracy, but did even worse, for he surrendered to the spanish governor of cuba, and turned papist. from cuba he carried on piracy, chiefly preying on english vessels, and made raids on the coast of jamaica, stealing slaves, which he took away to cuba. the governor of jamaica, sir nicholas laws, sent lieutenant joseph laws, in h.m.s. _happy_ snow, to demand the surrender of winter and another renegade, nicholas brown, but nothing resulted but an exchange of acrimonious letters between the lieutenant and the governor of cuba. winter, john. one of gow's crew in the _revenge_. hanged in at wapping. winter, william, _alias_ mustapha. a renegade english sailor amongst the algiers pirates. taken prisoner in the _exchange_, on which vessel he was carpenter. winthrop. one of fly's crew. took an active part in the mutiny aboard the _elizabeth_. winthrop it was who chopped off the hand of captain green, and in a fight with jenkins, the mate, severed his shoulder with an axe and then threw the still living officer overboard. he was hanged at boston on july th, . witherborn, captain francis. captured, with his ship, by major beeston and brought to jamaica. tried for piracy at port royal, he was condemned to death, and sent a prisoner to england. wollervy, captain william. a new england pirate who sailed in company with a captain henley in off the island of elenthera. he burnt his vessel near newport, rhode island, where he and his crew disappeared with their plunder. wood, william. native of york. one of captain roberts's crew. hanged in april, , at the age of . worley, captain. his reign was short, lasting but six months from start to finish. he was first heard of in september, , when he set out, in company with eight other desperadoes, from new york in a small open boat "upon the account." they were provided with a few biscuits, a dried tongue, and a keg of water, half a dozen old muskets and some ammunition. they sailed down the coast for miles, entered the river delaware, and rowed up to newcastle, and there seized a shallop. the news of this enterprise was quickly spread abroad, and roused the whole coast. going down the river again, still in their open boat, they took another sloop belonging to a mulatto called black robbin. they changed into this sloop, and next day met with another sloop from hull, which suited their purpose better. by now the country was much alarmed, and the government sent out h.m.s. _phoenix_, of twenty guns, to cruise in search of the pirates. in the meantime the latter sailed to the bahama islands and took another sloop and a brigantine. worley now commanded a tidy craft of six guns and a crew of twenty-five men, and flew a black ensign with a white death's head upon it. so far all had gone well with the pirates, but one day, when cruising off the cape of virginia, worley sighted two sloops as he thought making for the james river, but which were really armed vessels sent in search of him. worley stood in to cut them off, little dreaming what they really were. the two sloops and the pirate ship all standing in together, worley hoisted his black flag. this terrified the inhabitants of jamestown, who thought that three pirates were about to attack them. hurried preparations for defence were made, when all of a sudden the people on shore were surprised to see the supposed pirates fighting amongst themselves. no quarter was asked, and the pirates were all killed in hand-to-hand fighting except captain worley and one other pirate, who were captured alive but desperately wounded. the formalities were quickly got through for trying these two men, so that next day they were hanged before death from their wounds could save them from their just punishment. "thus," writes captain johnson, "worley's beginning was bold and desperate, his course short and prosperous, and his end bloody and disgraceful." wormall, daniel. master on the brigantine _charles_, commanded by captain john quelch. attempted to escape from gloucester, massachusetts, by sailing off in the _larimore_ galley, but was followed and caught by major sewell and taken to salem. here he was kept in the town gaol until sent to boston to be tried for piracy in june, . yallahs, captain, or yellows. a dutch buccaneer. in fled from jamaica to campeachy, there selling his frigate to the spanish governor for , pieces of eight. he entered the spanish service to cruise against the english logwood cutters, at which business he was successful, taking more than a dozen of these vessels off the coast of honduras. yeates, captain. in this carolina pirate commanded a sloop which acted as tender to captain vane. when at sullivan island, carolina, yeates, finding himself master of a fine sloop armed with several guns and a crew of fifteen men, and with a valuable cargo of slaves aboard, slipped his anchor in the middle of the night and sailed away. yeates thought highly of himself as a pirate and had long resented the way vane treated him as a subordinate, and was glad to get a chance of sailing on his own account. yeates, having escaped, came to north edisto river, some ten leagues off charleston. there, sending hurried word to the governor to ask for the royal pardon, he surrendered himself, his crew, and two negro slaves. yeates was pardoned, and his negroes were returned to captain thurston, from whom they had been stolen. zekerman, andrew. a dutch pirate, one of peter m'kinlie's gang, who murdered captain glass and his family on board a ship sailing from the canary islands to england. zekerman was the most brutal of the whole crew of mutineers. he was hanged in chains near dublin on december th, . some famous pirate ships, with their captains black joke captain de soto. bravo " power. flying horse " rhoade. fortune " bartholomew roberts. royal fortune " bartholomew roberts. good fortune " bartholomew roberts. batchelor's delight " dampier. delight " spriggs. flying king " sample. night rambler " cooper. cour valant " la vivon. most holy trinity " bartholomew sharp. flying dragon " condent. sudden death " derdrake. scowerer " evans. queen ann's revenge " teach. happy delivery " lowther. snap dragon " goldsmith. revenge captains cowley, bonnet, gow, phillips, and others. bonne homme richard captain paul jones. blessing " brown. new york revenge's revenge " cole. mayflower " cox. childhood " caraccioli. liberty " tew. transcriber's notes: despite consuming (i suspect) large amounts of rum while writing this, the author saved none of it for me. i, therefore, refuse to correct any of his mistakes. ... except this one on page : wiliams corrected to williams, as per rest of same entry. the entry on page for "church, charles" ends abruptly, as per original. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) the pursuit of the house-boat being some further account of the divers doings of the associated shades, under the leadership of sherlock holmes, esq. by john kendrick bangs illustrated by peter newell new york and london harper & brothers publishers to a. conan doyle, esq. with the author's sincerest regards and thanks for the untimely demise of his great detective which made these things possible contents chapter i. the associated shades take action ii. the stranger unravels a mystery and reveals himself iii. the search-party is organized iv. on board the house-boat v. a conference on deck vi. a conference below-stairs vii. the "gehenna" is chartered viii. on board the "gehenna." ix. captain kidd meets with an obstacle x. a warning accepted xi. marooned xii. the escape and the end illustrations "'dr. johnson's point is well taken'" "'what has all this got to do with the question?'" "poor old boswell was pushed overboard" "the stranger drew forth a bundle of business cards" "three rousing cheers, led by hamlet, were given" a black person by the name of friday finds a bottle madame rÉcamier has a plan "the hard features of kidd were thrust through" "'here's a kettle of fish,' said kidd" "'every bloomin' million was represented by a certified check, an' payable in london'" queen elizabeth desires an axe and one hour of her olden power "'the committee on treachery is ready to report'" "'you are very much mistaken, sir walter'" "in the dead of night shylock had stolen up the gang-plank" judge blackstone refuses to climb to the mizzentop shem in the lookout captain kidd consents to be cross-examined by portia kidd's companions endeavoring to restore evaporated portions of his anatomy with a steam-atomizer "'he told us we were going to paris'" "'you are a very clear-headed young woman, lizzie,' said mrs. noah" "'that ought to be a lesson to you'" "the pirates made a mad dash down the rough, rocky hill-side" "'now, my child,' said mrs. noah, firmly, 'i do not wish any words'" "a great helpless hulk ten feet to the rear" the pursuit of the house-boat i the associated shades take action the house-boat of the associated shades, formerly located upon the river styx, as the reader may possibly remember, had been torn from its moorings and navigated out into unknown seas by that vengeful pirate captain kidd, aided and abetted by some of the most ruffianly inhabitants of hades. like a thief in the night had they come, and for no better reason than that the captain had been unanimously voted a shade too shady to associate with self-respecting spirits had they made off with the happy floating club-house of their betters; and worst of all, with them, by force of circumstances over which they had no control, had sailed also the fair queen elizabeth, the spirited xanthippe, and every other strong-minded and beautiful woman of erebean society, whereby the men thereof were rendered desolate. "i can't stand it!" cried raleigh, desperately, as with his accustomed grace he presided over a special meeting of the club, called on the bank of the inky stygian stream, at the point where the missing boat had been moored. "think of it, gentlemen, elizabeth of england, calpurnia of rome, ophelia of denmark, and every precious jewel in our social diadem gone, vanished completely; and with whom? kidd, of all men in the universe! kidd, the pirate, the ruffian--" "don't take on so, my dear sir walter," said socrates, cheerfully. "what's the use of going into hysterics? you are not a woman, and should eschew that luxury. xanthippe is with them, and i'll warrant you that when that cherished spouse of mine has recovered from the effects of the sea, say the third day out, kidd and his crew will be walking the plank, and voluntarily at that." "but the house-boat itself," murmured noah, sadly. "that was my delight. it reminded me in some respects of the ark." "the law of compensation enters in there, my dear commodore," retorted socrates. "for me, with xanthippe abroad i do not need a club to go to; i can stay at home and take my hemlock in peace and straight. xanthippe always compelled me to dilute it at the rate of one quart of water to the finger." "well, we didn't all marry xanthippe," put in cæsar, firmly, "therefore we are not all satisfied with the situation. i, for one, quite agree with sir walter that something must be done, and quickly. are we to sit here and do nothing, allowing that fiend to kidnap our wives with impunity?" "not at all," interposed bonaparte. "the time for action has arrived. all things considered he is welcome to marie louise, but the idea of josephine going off on a cruise of that kind breaks my heart." "no question about it," observed dr. johnson. "we've got to do something if it is only for the sake of appearances. the question really is, what shall be done first?" "i am in favor of taking a drink as the first step, and considering the matter of further action afterwards," suggested shakespeare, and it was this suggestion that made the members unanimous upon the necessity for immediate action, for when the assembled spirits called for their various favorite beverages it was found that there were none to be had, it being sunday, and all the establishments wherein liquid refreshments were licensed to be sold being closed--for at the time of writing the local government of hades was in the hands of the reform party. "what!" cried socrates. "nothing but styx water and vitriol, sundays? then the house-boat must be recovered whether xanthippe comes with it or not. sir walter, i am for immediate action, after all. this ruffian should be captured at once and made an example of." "excuse me, socrates," put in lindley murray, "but, ah--pray speak in greek hereafter, will you, please? when you attempt english you have a beastly way of working up to climatic prepositions which are offensive to the ear of a purist." "this is no time to discuss style, murray," interposed sir walter. "socrates may speak and spell like chaucer if he pleases; he may even part his infinitives in the middle, for all i care. we have affairs of greater moment in hand." "we must ransack the earth," cried socrates, "until we find that boat. i'm dry as a fish." "there he goes again!" growled murray. "dry as a fish! what fish i'd like to know is dry?" "red herrings," retorted socrates; and there was a great laugh at the expense of the purist, in which even hamlet, who had grown more and more melancholy and morbid since the abduction of ophelia, joined. "then it is settled," said raleigh; "something must be done. and now the point is, what?" "relief expeditions have a way of finding things," suggested dr. livingstone. "or rather of being found by the things they go out to relieve. i propose that we send out a number of them. i will take africa; bonaparte can lead an expedition into europe; general washington may have north america; and--" "i beg pardon," put in dr. johnson, "but have you any idea, dr. livingstone, that captain kidd has put wheels on this house-boat of ours and is having it dragged across the sahara by mules or camels?" "no such absurd idea ever entered my head," retorted the doctor. "do you then believe that he has put runners on it, and is engaged in the pleasurable pastime of taking the ladies tobogganing down the alps?" persisted the philosopher. "not at all. why do you ask?" queried the african explorer, irritably. "because i wish to know," said johnson. "that is always my motive in asking questions. you propose to go looking for a house-boat in central africa; you suggest that bonaparte lead an expedition in search of it through europe--all of which strikes me as nonsense. this search is the work of sea-dogs, not of landlubbers. you might as well ask confucius to look for it in the heart of china. what earthly use there is in ransacking the earth i fail to see. what we need is a naval expedition to scour the sea, unless it is pretty well understood in advance that we believe kidd has hauled the boat out of the water, and is now using it for a roller-skating rink or a bicycle academy in ohio, or for some other purpose for which neither he nor it was designed." "dr. johnson's point is well taken," said a stranger who had been sitting upon the string-piece of the pier, quietly, but with very evident interest, listening to the discussion. he was a tall and excessively slender shade, "like a spirt of steam out of a teapot," as johnson put it afterwards, so slight he seemed. "i have not the honor of being a member of this association," the stranger continued, "but, like all well-ordered shades, i aspire to the distinction, and i hold myself and my talents at the disposal of this club. i fancy it will not take us long to establish our initial point, which is that the gross person who has so foully appropriated your property to his own base uses does not contemplate removing it from its keel and placing it somewhere inland. all the evidence in hand points to a radically different conclusion, which is my sole reason for doubting the value of that conclusion. captain kidd is a seafarer by instinct, not a landsman. the house-boat is not a house, but a boat; therefore the place to look for it is not, as dr. johnson so well says, in the sahara desert, or on the alps, or in the state of ohio, but upon the high sea, or upon the waterfront of some one of the world's great cities." [illustration: "'dr. johnson's point is well taken'"] "and what, then, would be your plan?" asked sir walter, impressed by the stranger's manner as well as by the very manifest reason in all that he had said. "the chartering of a suitable vessel, fully armed and equipped for the purpose of pursuit. ascertain whither the house-boat has sailed, for what port, and start at once. have you a model of the house-boat within reach?" returned the stranger. "i think not; we have the architect's plans, however," said the chairman. "we had, mr. chairman," said demosthenes, who was secretary of the house committee, rising, "but they are gone with the house-boat itself. they were kept in the safe in the hold." a look of annoyance came into the face of the stranger. "that's too bad," he said. "it was a most important part of my plan that we should know about how fast the house-boat was." "humph!" ejaculated socrates, with ill-concealed sarcasm. "if you'll take xanthippe's word for it, the house-boat was the fastest yacht afloat." "i refer to the matter of speed in sailing," returned the stranger, quietly. "the question of its ethical speed has nothing to do with it." "the designer of the craft is here," said sir walter, fixing his eyes upon sir christopher wren. "it is possible that he may be of assistance in settling that point." "what has all this got to do with the question, anyhow, mr. chairman?" asked solomon, rising impatiently and addressing sir walter. "we aren't preparing for a yacht-race that i know of. nobody's after a cup, or a championship of any kind. what we do want is to get our wives back. the captain hasn't taken more than half of mine along with him, but i am interested none the less. the queen of sheba is on board, and i am somewhat interested in her fate. so i ask you what earthly or unearthly use there is in discussing this question of speed in the house-boat. it strikes me as a woful waste of time, and rather unprecedented too, that we should suspend all rules and listen to the talk of an entire stranger." [illustration: "'what has all this got to do with the question?'"] "i do not venture to doubt the wisdom of solomon," said johnson, dryly, "but i must say that the gentleman's remarks rather interest me." "of course they do," ejaculated solomon. "he agreed with you. that ought to make him interesting to everybody. freaks usually are." "that is not the reason at all," retorted dr. johnson. "cold water agrees with me, but it doesn't interest me. what i do think, however, is that our unknown friend seems to have a grasp on the situation by which we are confronted, and he's going at the matter in hand in a very comprehensive fashion. i move, therefore, that solomon be laid on the table, and that the privileges of the--ah--of the wharf be extended indefinitely to our friend on the string-piece." the motion, having been seconded, was duly carried, and the stranger resumed. "i will explain for the benefit of his majesty king solomon, whose wisdom i have always admired, and whose endurance as the husband of three hundred wives has filled me with wonder," he said, "that before starting in pursuit of the stolen vessel we must select a craft of some sort for the purpose, and that in selecting the pursuer it is quite essential that we should choose a vessel of greater speed than the one we desire to overtake. it would hardly be proper, i think, if the house-boat can sail four knots an hour, to attempt to overhaul her with a launch, or other nautical craft, with a maximum speed of two knots an hour." "hear! hear!" ejaculated cæsar. "that is my reason, your majesty, for inquiring as to the speed of your late club-house," said the stranger, bowing courteously to solomon. "now if sir christopher wren can give me her measurements, we can very soon determine at about what rate she is leaving us behind under favorable circumstances." "'tisn't necessary for sir christopher to do anything of the sort," said noah, rising and manifesting somewhat more heat than the occasion seemed to require. "as long as we are discussing the question i will take the liberty of stating what i have never mentioned before, that the designer of the house-boat merely appropriated the lines of the ark. shem, ham, and japhet will bear testimony to the truth of that statement." "there can be no quarrel on that score, mr. chairman," assented sir christopher, with cutting frigidity. "i am perfectly willing to admit that practically the two vessels were built on the same lines, but with modifications which would enable my boat to sail twenty miles to windward and back in six days less time than it would have taken the ark to cover the same distance, and it could have taken all the wash of the excursion steamers into the bargain." "bosh!" ejaculated noah, angrily. "strip your old tub down to a flying balloon-jib and a marline-spike, and ballast the ark with elephants until every inch of her reeked with ivory and peanuts, and she'd outfoot you on every leg, in a cyclone or a zephyr. give me the ark and a breeze, and your house-boat wouldn't be within hailing distance of her five minutes after the start if she had , square yards of canvas spread before a gale." "this discussion is waxing very unprofitable," observed confucius. "if these gentlemen cannot be made to confine themselves to the subject that is agitating this body, i move we call in the authorities and have them confined in the bottomless pit." "i did not precipitate the quarrel," said noah. "i was merely trying to assist our friend on the string-piece. i was going to say that as the ark was probably a hundred times faster than sir christopher wren's--tub, which he himself says can take care of all the wash of the excursion boats, thereby becoming on his own admission a wash-tub--" "order! order!" cried sir christopher. "i was going to say that this wash-tub could be overhauled by a launch or any other craft with a speed of thirty knots a month," continued noah, ignoring the interruption. "took him forty days to get to mount ararat!" sneered sir christopher. "well, your boat would have got there two weeks sooner, i'll admit," retorted noah, "if she'd sprung a leak at the right time." "granting the truth of noah's statement," said sir walter, motioning to the angry architect to be quiet--"not that we take any side in the issue between the two gentlemen, but merely for the sake of argument--i wish to ask the stranger who has been good enough to interest himself in our trouble what he proposes to do--how can you establish your course in case a boat were provided?" "also vot vill be dher gost, if any?" put in shylock. a murmur of disapprobation greeted this remark. "the cost need not trouble you, sir," said sir walter, indignantly, addressing the stranger; "you will have carte blanche." "den ve are ruint!" cried shylock, displaying his palms, and showing by that act a select assortment of diamond rings. "oh," laughed the stranger, "that is a simple matter. captain kidd has gone to london." "to london!" cried several members at once. "how do you know that?" "by this," said the stranger, holding up the tiny stub end of a cigar. "tut-tut!" ejaculated solomon. "what child's play this is!" "no, your majesty," observed the stranger, "it is not child's play; it is fact. that cigar end was thrown aside here on the wharf by captain kidd just before he stepped on board the house-boat." "how do you know that?" demanded raleigh. "and granting the truth of the assertion, what does it prove?" "i will tell you," said the stranger. and he at once proceeded as follows. ii the stranger unravels a mystery and reveals himself "i have made a hobby of the study of cigar ends," said the stranger, as the associated shades settled back to hear his account of himself. "from my earliest youth, when i used surreptitiously to remove the unsmoked ends of my father's cigars and break them up, and, in hiding, smoke them in an old clay pipe which i had presented to me by an ancient sea-captain of my acquaintance, i have been interested in tobacco in all forms, even including these self-same despised unsmoked ends; for they convey to my mind messages, sentiments, farces, comedies, and tragedies which to your minds would never become manifest through their agency." the company drew closer together and formed themselves in a more compact mass about the speaker. it was evident that they were beginning to feel an unusual interest in this extraordinary person, who had come among them unheralded and unknown. even shylock stopped calculating percentages for an instant to listen. "do you mean to tell us," demanded shakespeare, "that the unsmoked stub of a cigar will suggest the story of him who smoked it to your mind?" "i do," replied the stranger, with a confident smile. "take this one, for instance, that i have picked up here upon the wharf; it tells me the whole story of the intentions of captain kidd at the moment when, in utter disregard of your rights, he stepped aboard your house-boat, and, in his usual piratical fashion, made off with it into unknown seas." "but how do you know he smoked it?" asked solomon, who deemed it the part of wisdom to be suspicious of the stranger. "there are two curious indentations in it which prove that. the marks of two teeth, with a hiatus between, which you will see if you look closely," said the stranger, handing the small bit of tobacco to sir walter, "make that point evident beyond peradventure. the captain lost an eye-tooth in one of his later raids; it was knocked out by a marline-spike which had been hurled at him by one of the crew of the treasure-ship he and his followers had attacked. the adjacent teeth were broken, but not removed. the cigar end bears the marks of those two jagged molars, with the hiatus, which, as i have indicated, is due to the destruction of the eye-tooth between them. it is not likely that there was another man in the pirate's crew with teeth exactly like the commander's, therefore i say there can be no doubt that the cigar end was that of the captain himself." "very interesting indeed," observed blackstone, removing his wig and fanning himself with it; "but i must confess, mr. chairman, that in any properly constituted law court this evidence would long since have been ruled out as irrelevant and absurd. the idea of two or three hundred dignified spirits like ourselves, gathered together to devise a means for the recovery of our property and the rescue of our wives, yielding the floor to the delivering of a lecture by an entire stranger on 'cigar ends he has met,' strikes me as ridiculous in the extreme. of what earthly interest is it to us to know that this or that cigar was smoked by captain kidd?" "merely that it will help us on, your honor, to discover the whereabouts of the said kidd," interposed the stranger. "it is by trifles, seeming trifles, that the greatest detective work is done. my friends le coq, hawkshaw, and old sleuth will bear me out in this, i think, however much in other respects our methods may have differed. they left no stone unturned in the pursuit of a criminal; no detail, however trifling, uncared for. no more should we in the present instance overlook the minutest bit of evidence, however irrelevant and absurd at first blush it may appear to be. the truth of what i say was very effectually proven in the strange case of the brokedale tiara, in which i figured somewhat conspicuously, but which i have never made public, because it involves a secret affecting the integrity of one of the noblest families in the british empire. i really believe that mystery was solved easily and at once because i happened to remember that the number of my watch was b. how trivial a thing, and yet how important it was, as the event transpired, you will realize when i tell you the incident." the stranger's manner was so impressive that there was a unanimous and simultaneous movement upon the part of all present to get up closer, so as the more readily to hear what he said, as a result of which poor old boswell was pushed overboard, and fell with a loud splash into the styx. fortunately, however, one of charon's pleasure-boats was close at hand, and in a short while the dripping, sputtering spirit was drawn into it, wrung out, and sent home to dry. the excitement attending this diversion having subsided, solomon asked: "what was the incident of the lost tiara?" [illustration: "poor old boswell was pushed overboard"] "i am about to tell you," returned the stranger; "and it must be understood that you are told in the strictest confidence, for, as i say, the incident involves a state secret of great magnitude. in life--in the mortal life--gentlemen, i was a detective by profession, and, if i do say it, who perhaps should not, i was one of the most interesting for purely literary purposes that has ever been known. i did not find it necessary to go about saying 'ha! ha!' as m. le coq was accustomed to do to advertise his cleverness; neither did i disguise myself as a drum-major and hide under a kitchen-table for the purpose of solving a mystery involving the abduction of a parlor stove, after the manner of the talented hawkshaw. by mental concentration alone, without fireworks or orchestral accompaniment of any sort whatsoever, did i go about my business, and for that very reason many of my fellow-sleuths were forced to go out of real detective work into that line of the business with which the stage has familiarized the most of us--a line in which nothing but stupidity, luck, and a yellow wig is required of him who pursues it." "this man is an impostor," whispered le coq to hawkshaw. "i've known that all along by the mole on his left wrist," returned hawkshaw, contemptuously. "i suspected it the minute i saw he was not disguised," returned le coq, knowingly. "i have observed that the greatest villains latterly have discarded disguises, as being too easily penetrated, and therefore of no avail, and merely a useless expense." "silence!" cried confucius, impatiently. "how can the gentleman proceed, with all this conversation going on in the rear?" hawkshaw and le coq immediately subsided, and the stranger went on. "it was in this way that i treated the strange case of the lost tiara," resumed the stranger. "mental concentration upon seemingly insignificant details alone enabled me to bring about the desired results in that instance. a brief outline of the case is as follows: it was late one evening in the early spring of . the london season was at its height. dances, fêtes of all kinds, opera, and the theatres were in full blast, when all of a sudden society was paralyzed by a most audacious robbery. a diamond tiara valued at £ , sterling had been stolen from the duchess of brokedale, and under circumstances which threw society itself and every individual in it under suspicion--even his royal highness the prince himself, for he had danced frequently with the duchess, and was known to be a great admirer of her tiara. it was at half-past eleven o'clock at night that the news of the robbery first came to my ears. i had been spending the evening alone in my library making notes for a second volume of my memoirs, and, feeling somewhat depressed, i was on the point of going out for my usual midnight walk on hampstead heath, when one of my servants, hastily entering, informed me of the robbery. i changed my mind in respect to my midnight walk immediately upon receipt of the news, for i knew that before one o'clock some one would call upon me at my lodgings with reference to this robbery. it could not be otherwise. any mystery of such magnitude could no more be taken to another bureau than elephants could fly--" "they used to," said adam. "i once had a whole aviary full of winged elephants. they flew from flower to flower, and thrusting their probabilities deep into--" "their what?" queried johnson, with a frown. "probabilities--isn't that the word? their trunks," said adam. "probosces, i imagine you mean," suggested johnson. "yes--that was it. their probosces," said adam. "they were great honey-gatherers, those elephants--far better than the bees, because they could make so much more of it in a given time." munchausen shook his head sadly. "i'm afraid i'm outclassed by these antediluvians," he said. "gentlemen! gentlemen!" cried sir walter. "these interruptions are inexcusable!" "that's what i think," said the stranger, with some asperity. "i'm having about as hard a time getting this story out as i would if it were a serial. of course, if you gentlemen do not wish to hear it, i can stop; but it must be understood that when i do stop i stop finally, once and for all, because the tale has not a sufficiency of dramatic climaxes to warrant its prolongation over the usual magazine period of twelve months." "go on! go on!" cried some. "shut up!" cried others--addressing the interrupting members, of course. "as i was saying," resumed the stranger, "i felt confident that within an hour, in some way or other, that case would be placed in my hands. it would be mine either positively or negatively--that is to say, either the person robbed would employ me to ferret out the mystery and recover the diamonds, or the robber himself, actuated by motives of self-preservation, would endeavor to direct my energies into other channels until he should have the time to dispose of his ill-gotten booty. a mental discussion of the probabilities inclined me to believe that the latter would be the case. i reasoned in this fashion: the person robbed is of exalted rank. she cannot move rapidly because she is so. great bodies move slowly. it is probable that it will be a week before, according to the etiquette by which she is hedged about, she can communicate with me. in the first place, she must inform one of her attendants that she has been robbed. he must communicate the news to the functionary in charge of her residence, who will communicate with the home secretary, and from him will issue the orders to the police, who, baffled at every step, will finally address themselves to me. 'i'll give that side two weeks,' i said. on the other hand, the robber: will he allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security by counting on this delay, or will he not, noting my habit of occasionally entering upon detective enterprises of this nature of my own volition, come to me at once and set me to work ferreting out some crime that has never been committed? my feeling was that this would happen, and i pulled out my watch to see if it were not nearly time for him to arrive. the robbery had taken place at a state ball at the buckingham palace. 'h'm!' i mused. 'he has had an hour and forty minutes to get here. it is now twelve twenty. he should be here by twelve forty-five. i will wait.' and hastily swallowing a cocaine tablet to nerve myself up for the meeting, i sat down and began to read my schopenhauer. hardly had i perused a page when there came a tap upon my door. i rose with a smile, for i thought i knew what was to happen, opened the door, and there stood, much to my surprise, the husband of the lady whose tiara was missing. it was the duke of brokedale himself. it is true he was disguised. his beard was powdered until it looked like snow, and he wore a wig and a pair of green goggles; but i recognized him at once by his lack of manners, which is an unmistakable sign of nobility. as i opened the door, he began: "'you are mr.--' "'i am,' i replied. 'come in. you have come to see me about your stolen watch. it is a gold hunting-case watch with a swiss movement; loses five minutes a day; stem-winder; and the back cover, which does not bear any inscription, has upon it the indentations made by the molars of your son willie when that interesting youth was cutting his teeth upon it.'" "wonderful!" cried johnson. "may i ask how you knew all that?" asked solomon, deeply impressed. "such penetration strikes me as marvellous." "i didn't know it," replied the stranger, with a smile. "what i said was intended to be jocular, and to put brokedale at his ease. the americans present, with their usual astuteness, would term it bluff. it was. i merely rattled on. i simply did not wish to offend the gentleman by letting him know that i had penetrated his disguise. imagine my surprise, however, when his eye brightened as i spoke, and he entered my room with such alacrity that half the powder which he thought disguised his beard was shaken off on to the floor. sitting down in the chair i had just vacated, he quietly remarked: "'you are a wonderful man, sir. how did you know that i had lost my watch?' "for a moment i was nonplussed; more than that, i was completely staggered. i had expected him to say at once that he had not lost his watch, but had come to see me about the tiara; and to have him take my words seriously was entirely unexpected and overwhelmingly surprising. however, in view of his rank, i deemed it well to fall in with his humor. 'oh, as for that,' i replied, 'that is a part of my business. it is the detective's place to know everything; and generally, if he reveals the machinery by means of which he reaches his conclusions, he is a fool, since his method is his secret, and his secret his stock in trade. i do not mind telling you, however, that i knew your watch was stolen by your anxious glance at my clock, which showed that you wished to know the time. now most rich americans have watches for that purpose, and have no hesitation about showing them. if you'd had a watch, you'd have looked at it, not at my clock.' "my visitor laughed, and repeated what he had said about my being a wonderful man. "'and the dents which my son made cutting his teeth?' he added. "'invariably go with an american's watch. rubber or ivory rings aren't good enough for american babies to chew on,' said i. 'they must have gold watches or nothing.' "'and finally, how did you know i was a rich american?' he asked. "'because no other can afford to stop at hotels like the savoy in the height of the season,' i replied, thinking that the jest would end there, and that he would now reveal his identity and speak of the tiara. to my surprise, however, he did nothing of the sort. "'you have an almost supernatural gift,' he said. 'my name is bunker. i _am_ stopping at the savoy. i _am_ an american. i _was_ rich when i arrived here, but i'm not quite so bloated with wealth as i was, now that i have paid my first week's bill. i _have_ lost my watch; such a watch, too, as you describe, even to the dents. your only mistake was that the dents were made by my son john, and not willie; but even there i cannot but wonder at you, for john and willie are twins, and so much alike that it sometimes baffles even their mother to tell them apart. the watch has no very great value intrinsically, but the associations are such that i want it back, and i will pay £ for its recovery. i have no clew as to who took it. it was numbered--' "here a happy thought struck me. in all my description of the watch i had merely described my own, a very cheap affair which i had won at a raffle. my visitor was deceiving me, though for what purpose i did not on the instant divine. no one would like to suspect him of having purloined his wife's tiara. why should i not deceive him, and at the same time get rid of my poor chronometer for a sum that exceeded its value a hundredfold?" "good business!" cried shylock. the stranger smiled and bowed. "excellent," he said. "i took the words right out of his mouth. 'it was numbered b!' i cried, giving, of course, the number of my own watch. "he gazed at me narrowly for a moment, and then he smiled. 'you grow more marvellous at every step. that was indeed the number. are you a demon?' "'no,' i replied. 'only something of a mind-reader.' "well, to be brief, the bargain was struck. i was to look for a watch that i knew he hadn't lost, and was to receive £ if i found it. it seemed to him to be a very good bargain, as, indeed, it was, from his point of view, feeling, as he did, that there never having been any such watch, it could not be recovered, and little suspecting that two could play at his little game of deception, and that under any circumstances i could foist a ten-shilling watch upon him for two hundred pounds. this business concluded, he started to go. "'won't you have a little scotch?' i asked, as he started, feeling, with all that prospective profit in view, i could well afford the expense. 'it is a stormy night.' "'thanks, i will,' said he, returning and seating himself by my table--still, to my surprise, keeping his hat on. "'let me take your hat,' i said, little thinking that my courtesy would reveal the true state of affairs. the mere mention of the word hat brought about a terrible change in my visitor; his knees trembled, his face grew ghastly, and he clutched the brim of his beaver until it cracked. he then nervously removed it, and i noticed a dull red mark running about his forehead, just as there would be on the forehead of a man whose hat fitted too tightly; and that mark, gentlemen, had the undulating outline of nothing more nor less than a tiara, and on the apex of the uppermost extremity was a deep indentation about the size of a shilling, that could have been made only by some adamantine substance! the mystery was solved! the robber of the duchess of brokedale stood before me." a suppressed murmur of excitement went through the assembled spirits, and even messrs. hawkshaw and le coq were silent in the presence of such genius. "my plan of action was immediately formulated. the man was completely at my mercy. he had stolen the tiara, and had it concealed in the lining of his hat. i rose and locked the door. my visitor sank with a groan into my chair. "'why did you do that?' he stammered, as i turned the key in the lock. "'to keep my scotch whiskey from evaporating,' i said, dryly. 'now, my lord,' i added, 'it will pay your grace to let me have your hat. i know who you are. you are the duke of brokedale. the duchess of brokedale has lost a valuable tiara of diamonds, and you have not lost your watch. somebody has stolen the diamonds, and it may be that somewhere there is a bunker who has lost such a watch as i have described. the queer part of it all is,' i continued, handing him the decanter, and taking a couple of loaded six-shooters out of my escritoire--'the queer part of it all is that i have the watch and you have the tiara. we'll swap the swag. hand over the bauble, please.' "'but--' he began. "'we won't have any butting, your grace,' said i. 'i'll give you the watch, and you needn't mind the £ ; and you must give me the tiara, or i'll accompany you forthwith to the police, and have a search made of your hat. it won't pay you to defy me. give it up.' "he gave up the hat at once, and, as i suspected, there lay the tiara, snugly stowed away behind the head-band. "'you are a great fellow.' said i, as i held the tiara up to the light and watched with pleasure the flashing brilliance of its gems. "'i beg you'll not expose me,' he moaned. 'i was driven to it by necessity.' "'not i,' i replied. 'as long as you play fair it will be all right. i'm not going to keep this thing. i'm not married, and so have no use for such a trifle; but what i do intend is simply to wait until your wife retains me to find it, and then i'll find it and get the reward. if you keep perfectly still, i'll have it found in such a fashion that you'll never be suspected. if, on the other hand, you say a word about to-night's events, i'll hand you over to the police.' "'humph!' he said. 'you couldn't prove a case against me.' "'i can prove any case against anybody,' i retorted. 'if you don't believe it, read my book,' i added, and i handed him a copy of my memoirs. "'i've read it,' he answered, 'and i ought to have known better than to come here. i thought you were only a literary success.' and with a deep-drawn sigh he took the watch and went out. ten days later i was retained by the duchess, and after a pretended search of ten days more i found the tiara, restored it to the noble lady, and received the £ reward. the duke kept perfectly quiet about our little encounter, and afterwards we became stanch friends; for he was a good fellow, and was driven to his desperate deed only by the demands of his creditors, and the following christmas he sent me the watch i had given him, with the best wishes of the season. "so, you see, gentlemen, in a moment, by quick wit and a mental concentration of no mean order, combined with strict observance of the pettiest details, i ferreted out what bade fair to become a great diamond mystery; and when i say that this cigar end proves certain things to my mind, it does not become you to doubt the value of my conclusions." "hear! hear!" cried raleigh, growing tumultuous with enthusiasm. "your name? your name?" came from all parts of the wharf. the stranger, putting his hand into the folds of his coat, drew forth a bundle of business cards, which he tossed, as the prestidigitator tosses playing-cards, out among the audience, and on each of them was found printed the words: --------------------------- | sherlock holmes, | | detective. | | | | ferreting done here. | | | | _plots for sale._ | --------------------------- "i think he made a mistake in not taking the £ for the watch. such carelessness destroys my confidence in him," said shylock, who was the first to recover from the surprise of the revelation. [illustration: "the stranger drew forth a bundle of business cards"] iii the search-party is organized "well, mr. holmes," said sir walter raleigh, after three rousing cheers, led by hamlet, had been given with a will by the assembled spirits, "after this demonstration in your honor i think it is hardly necessary for me to assure you of our hearty co-operation in anything you may venture to suggest. there is still manifest, however, some desire on the part of the ever-wise king solomon and my friend confucius to know how you deduce that kidd has sailed for london, from the cigar end which you hold in your hand." [illustration: "three rousing cheers, led by hamlet, were given"] "i can easily satisfy their curiosity," said sherlock holmes, genially. "i believe i have already proven that it is the end of kidd's cigar. the marks of the teeth have shown that. now observe how closely it is smoked--there is barely enough of it left for one to insert between his teeth. now captain kidd would hardly have risked the edges of his mustache and the comfort of his lips by smoking a cigar down to the very light if he had had another; nor would he under any circumstances have smoked it that far unless he were passionately addicted to this particular brand of the weed. therefore i say to you, first, this was his cigar; second, it was the last one he had; third, he is a confirmed smoker. the result, he has gone to the one place in the world where these connecticut hand-rolled havana cigars--for i recognize this as one of them--have a real popularity, and are therefore more certainly obtainable, and that is at london. you cannot get so vile a cigar as that outside of a london hotel. if i could have seen a quarter-inch more of it, i should have been able definitely to locate the hotel itself. the wrappers unroll to a degree that varies perceptibly as between the different hotels. the metropole cigar can be smoked a quarter through before its wrapper gives way; the grand wrapper goes as soon as you light the cigar; whereas the savoy, fronting on the thames, is surrounded by a moister atmosphere than the others, and, as a consequence, the wrapper will hold really until most people are willing to throw the whole thing away." "it is really a wonderful art!" said solomon. "the making of a connecticut havana cigar?" laughed holmes. "not at all. give me a head of lettuce and a straw, and i'll make you a box." "i referred to your art--that of detection," said solomon. "your logic is perfect; step by step we have been led to the irresistible conclusion that kidd has made for london, and can be found at one of these hotels." "and only until next tuesday, when he will take a house in the neighborhood of scotland yard," put in holmes, quickly, observing a sneer on hawkshaw's lips, and hastening to overwhelm him by further evidence of his ingenuity. "when he gets his bill he will open his piratical eyes so wide that he will be seized with jealousy to think of how much more refined his profession has become since he left it, and out of mere pique he will leave the hotel, and, to show himself still cleverer than his modern prototypes, he will leave his account unpaid, with the result that the affair will be put in the hands of the police, under which circumstances a house in the immediate vicinity of the famous police headquarters will be the safest hiding-place he can find, as was instanced by the remarkable case of the famous penstock bond robbery. a certain church-warden named hinkley, having been appointed cashier thereof, robbed the penstock imperial bank of £ , , in bonds, and, fleeing to london, actually joined the detective force at scotland yard, and was detailed to find himself, which of course he never did, nor would he ever have been found had he not crossed my path." hawkshaw gazed mournfully off into space, and le coq muttered profane words under his breath. "we're not in the same class with this fellow, hawkshaw," said le coq. "you could tap your forehead knowingly eight hours a day through all eternity with a sledge-hammer without loosening an idea like that." "nevertheless i'll confound him yet," growled the jealous detective. "i shall myself go to london, and, disguised as captain kidd, will lead this visionary on until he comes there to arrest me, and when these club members discover that it is hawkshaw and not kidd he has run to earth, we'll have a great laugh on sherlock holmes." "i am anxious to hear how you solved the bond-robbery mystery," said socrates, wrapping his toga closely about him and settling back against one of the spiles of the wharf. "so are we all," said sir walter. "but meantime the house-boat is getting farther away." "not unless she's sailing backwards," sneered noah, who was still nursing his resentment against sir christopher wren for his reflections upon the speed of the ark. "what's the hurry?" asked socrates. "i believe in making haste slowly; and on the admission of our two eminent naval architects, sir christopher and noah, neither of their vessels can travel more than a mile a week, and if we charter the _flying dutchman_ to go in pursuit of her we can catch her before she gets out of the styx into the atlantic." "jonah might lend us his whale, if the beast is in commission," suggested munchausen, dryly. "i for one would rather take a state-room in jonah's whale than go aboard the _flying dutchman_ again. i made one trip on the _dutchman_, and she's worse than a dory for comfort; furthermore, i don't see what good it would do us to charter a boat that can't land oftener than once in seven years, and spends most of her time trying to double the cape of good hope." "my whale is in commission," said jonah, with dignity. "but baron munchausen need not consider the question of taking a state-room aboard of her. she doesn't carry second-class passengers. and if i took any stock in the idea of a trip on the _flying dutchman_ amounting to a seven years' exile, i would cheerfully pay the baron's expenses for a round trip." "we are losing time, gentlemen," suggested sherlock holmes. "this is a moment, i think, when you should lay aside personal differences and personal preferences for immediate action. i have examined the wake of the house-boat, and i judge from the condition of what, for want of a better term, i may call the suds, when she left us the house-boat was making ten knots a day. almost any craft we can find suitably manned ought to be able to do better than that; and if you could summon charon and ascertain what boats he has at hand, it would be for the good of all concerned." "that's a good plan," said johnson. "boswell, see if you can find charon." "i am here already, sir," returned the ferryman, rising. "most of my boats have gone into winter quarters, your honor. the _mayflower_ went into dry dock last week to be calked up; the _pinta_ and the _santa maria_ are slow and cranky; the _monitor_ and the _merrimac_ i haven't really had time to patch up; and the _valkyrie_ is two months overdue. i cannot make up my mind whether she is lost or kept back by excursion steamers. hence i really don't know what i can lend you. any of these boats i have named you could have had for nothing; but my others are actively employed, and i couldn't let them go without a serious interference with my business." the old man blinked sorrowfully across the waters at the opposite shore. it was quite evident that he realized what a dreadful expense the club was about to be put to, and while of course there would be profit in it for him, he was sincerely sorry for them. "i repeat," he added, "those boats you could have had for nothing, but the others i'd have to charge you for, though of course i'll give you a discount." and he blinked again, as he meditated upon whether that discount should be an eighth or one-quarter of one per cent. "the _flying dutchman_," he pursued, "ain't no good for your purposes. she's too fast. she's built to fly by, not to stop. you'd catch up with the house-boat in a minute with her, but you'd go right on and disappear like a visionary; and as for the ark, she'd never do--with all respect to mr. noah. she's just about as suitable as any other waterlogged cattle-steamer'd be, and no more--first-rate for elephants and kangaroos, but no good for cruiser-work, and so slow she wouldn't make a ripple high enough to drown a gnat going at the top of her speed. furthermore, she's got a great big hole in her bottom, where she was stove in by running afoul of--mount arrus-root, i believe it was called when captain noah went cruising with that menagerie of his." "that's an unmitigated falsehood!" cried noah, angrily. "this man talks like a professional amateur yachtsman. he has no regard for facts, but simply goes ahead and makes statements with an utter disregard of the truth. the ark was not stove in. we beached her very successfully. i say this in defence of my seamanship, which was top-notch for my day." "couldn't sail six weeks without fouling a mountain-peak!" sneered wren, perceiving a chance to get even. "the hole's there, just the same," said charon. "maybe she was a centreboard, and that's where you kept the board." "the hole is there because it was worn there by one of the elephants," retorted noah. "you get a beast like the elephant shuffling one of his fore-feet up and down, up and down, a plank for twenty-four hours a day for forty days in one of your boats, and see where your boat would be." "thanks," said charon, calmly. "but the elephants don't patronize my line. all the elephants i've ever seen in hades waded over, except jumbo, and he reached his trunk across, fastened on to a tree limb with it, and swung himself over. however, the ark isn't at all what you want, unless you are going to man her with a lot of centaurs. if that's your intention, i'd charter her; the accommodations are just the thing for a crew of that kind." "well, what do you suggest?" asked raleigh, somewhat impatiently. "you've told us what we can't do. now tell us what we can do." "i'd stay right here," said charon, "and let the ladies rescue themselves. that's what i'd do. i've had the honor of bringing 'em over here, and i think i know 'em pretty well. i've watched 'em close, and it's my private opinion that before many days you'll see your club-house sailing back here, with queen elizabeth at the hellum, and the other ladies on the for'ard deck knittin' and crochetin', and tearin' each other to pieces in a conversational way, as happy as if there never had been any captain kidd and his pirate crew." "that suggestion is impossible," said blackstone, rising. "whether the relief expedition amounts to anything or not, it's good to be set going. the ladies would never forgive us if we sat here inactive, even if they were capable of rescuing themselves. it is an accepted principle of law that this climate hath no fury like a woman left to herself, and we've got enough professional furies hereabouts without our aiding in augmenting the ranks. we must have a boat." "it'll cost you a thousand dollars a week," said charon. "i'll subscribe fifty," cried hamlet. "i'll consult my secretary," said solomon, "and find out how many of my wives have been abducted, and i'll pay ten dollars apiece for their recovery." "that's liberal," said hawkshaw. "there are sixty-three of 'em on board, together with eighty of his fiancées. what's the quotation on fiancées, king solomon?" "nothing," said solomon. "they're not mine yet, and it's their fathers' business to get 'em back. not mine." other subscriptions came pouring in, and it was not long before everybody save shylock had put his name down for something. this some one of the more quick-witted of the spirits soon observed, and, with reckless disregard of the feelings of the merchant of venice, began to call: "shylock! shylock! how much?" the merchant tried to leave the pier, but his path was blocked. "subscribe, subscribe!" was the cry. "how much?" "order, gentlemen, order!" said sir walter, rising and holding a bottle aloft. "a black person by the name of friday, a valet of our friend mr. crusoe, has just handed me this bottle, which he picked up ten minutes ago on the bank of the river a few miles distant. it contains a bit of paper, and may perhaps give us a clew based upon something more substantial than even the wonderful theories of our new brother holmes." [illustration: a black person by the name of friday finds a bottle] a deathly silence followed the chairman's words, as sir walter drew a cork-screw from his pocket and opened the bottle. he extracted the paper, and, as he had surmised, it proved to be a message from the missing vessel. his face brightening with a smile of relief, sir walter read, aloud: "have just emerged into the atlantic. club in hands of kidd and forty ruffians. one hundred and eighty-three ladies on board. headed for the azores. send aid at once. all well except xanthippe, who is seasick in the billiard-room. (signed) portia." "aha!" cried hawkshaw. "that shows how valuable the holmes theory is." "precisely," said holmes. "no woman knows anything about seafaring, but portia is right. the ship is headed for the azores, which is the first tack needed in a windward sail for london under the present conditions." the reply was greeted with cheers, and when they subsided the cry for shylock's subscription began again, but he declined. "i had intended to put up a thousand ducats," he said, defiantly, "but with that woman portia on board i won't give a red obolus!" and with that he wrapped his cloak about him and stalked off into the gathering shadows of the wood. and so the funds were raised without the aid of shylock, and the shapely twin-screw steamer the _gehenna_ was chartered of charon, and put under the command of mr. sherlock holmes, who, after he had thanked the company for their confidence, walked abstractedly away, observing in strictest confidence to himself that he had done well to prepare that bottle beforehand and bribe crusoe's man to find it. "for now," he said, with a chuckle, "i can get back to earth again free of cost on my own hook, whether my eminent inventor wants me there or not. i never approved of his killing me off as he did at the very height of my popularity." iv on board the house-boat meanwhile the ladies were not having such a bad time, after all. once having gained possession of the house-boat, they were loath to think of ever having to give it up again, and it is an open question in my mind if they would not have made off with it themselves had captain kidd and his men not done it for them. "i'll never forgive these men for their selfishness in monopolizing all this," said elizabeth, with a vicious stroke of a billiard-cue, which missed the cue-ball and tore a right angle in the cloth. "it is not right." "no," said portia. "it is all wrong; and when we get back home i'm going to give my beloved bassanio a piece of my mind; and if he doesn't give in to me, i'll reverse my decision in the famous case of shylock _versus_ antonio." "then i sincerely hope he doesn't give in," retorted cleopatra, "for i swear by all my auburn locks that that was the very worst bit of injustice ever perpetrated. mr. shakespeare confided to me one night, at one of mrs. cæsar's card-parties, that he regarded that as the biggest joke he ever wrote, and judge blackstone observed to antony that the decision wouldn't have held in any court of equity outside of venice. if you owe a man a thousand ducats, and it costs you three thousand to get them, that's your affair, not his. if it cost antonio every drop of his bluest blood to pay the pound of flesh, it was antonio's affair, not shylock's. however, the world applauds you as a great jurist, when you have nothing more than a woman's keen instinct for sentimental technicalities." "it would have made a horrid play, though, if it had gone on," shuddered elizabeth. "that may be, but, carried out realistically, it would have done away with a raft of bad actors," said cleopatra. "i'm half sorry it didn't go on, and i'm sure it wouldn't have been any worse than compelling brutus to fall on his sword until he resembles a chicken liver _en brochette_, as is done in that julius cæsar play." "well, i'm very glad i did it," snapped portia. "i should think you would be," said cleopatra. "if you hadn't done it, you'd never have been known. what was that?" the boat had given a slight lurch. "didn't you hear a shuffling noise up on deck, portia?" asked the egyptian queen. "i thought i did, and it seemed as if the vessel had moved a bit," returned portia, nervously; for, like most women in an advanced state of development, she had become a martyr to her nerves. "it was merely the wash from one of charon's new ferry-boats, i fancy," said elizabeth, calmly. "it's disgusting, the way that old fellow allows these modern innovations to be brought in here! as if the old paddle-boats he used to carry shades in weren't good enough for the immigrants of this age! really this styx river is losing a great deal of its charm. sir walter and i were upset, while out rowing one day last summer, by the waves kicked up by one of charon's excursion steamers going up the river with a party of picnickers from the city--the greater gehenna chowder club, i believe it was--on board of her. one might just as well live in the midst of the turmoil of a great city as try to get uninterrupted quiet here in the suburbs in these days. charon isn't content to get rich slowly; he must make money by the barrelful, if he has to sacrifice all the comfort of everybody living on this river. anybody'd think he was an american, the way he goes on; and everybody else here is the same way. the erebeans are getting to be a race of shopkeepers." "i think myself," sighed cleopatra, "that hades is being spoiled by the introduction of american ideas--it is getting by far too democratic for my tastes; and if it isn't stopped, it's my belief that the best people will stop coming here. take madame récamier's salon as it is now and compare it with what it used to be! in the early days, after her arrival here, everybody went because it was the swell thing, and you'd be sure of meeting the intellectually elect. on the one hand you'd find sophocles; on the other, cicero; across the room would be horace chatting gayly with some such person as myself. great warriors, from alexander to bonaparte, were there, and glad of the opportunity to be there, too; statesmen like macchiavelli; artists like cellini or tintoretto. you couldn't move without stepping on the toes of genius. but now all is different. the money-getting instinct has been aroused within them all, with the result that when i invited mozart to meet a few friends at dinner at my place last autumn, he sent me a card stating his terms for dinners. let me see, i think i have it with me; i've kept it by me for fear of losing it, it is such a complete revelation of the actual condition of affairs in this locality. ah! this is it," she added, taking a small bit of paste-board from her card-case. "read that." the card was passed about, and all the ladies were much astonished--and naturally so, for it ran this wise: -------------------------------------------------- | notice to hostesses. | | | | owing to the very great, constantly growing, | | and at times vexatious demands upon his time | | socially, | | | | herr wolfgang amadeus mozart | | | | takes this method of announcing to his | | friends that on and after january , , | | his terms for functions will be as follows: | | | | marks. | | dinners with conversation on the | | theory of music ................. | | dinners with conversation on the | | theory of music, illustrated .... | | dinners without any conversation .. | | receptions, public, with music .... | | " private, " ...... | | encores (single) .................. | | three encores for ................. | | autographs ........................ | | | | positively no invitations for five-o'clock | | teas or morning musicales considered. | -------------------------------------------------- "well, i declare!" tittered elizabeth, as she read. "isn't that extraordinary? he's got the three-name craze, too!" "it's perfectly ridiculous," said cleopatra. "but it's fairer than artemus ward's plan. mozart gives notice of his intentions to charge you; but with ward it's different. he comes, and afterwards sends a bill for his fun. why, only last week i got a 'quarterly statement' from him showing a charge against me of thirty-eight dollars for humorous remarks made to my guests at a little chafing-dish party i gave in honor of balzac, and, worst of all, he had marked it 'please remit.' even antony, when he wrote a sonnet to my eyebrow, wouldn't let me have it until he had heard whether or not boswell wanted it for publication in the _gossip_. with rubens giving chalk-talks for pay, phidias doing 'five-minute masterpieces in putty' for suburban lyceums, and all the illustrious in other lines turning their genius to account through the entertainment bureaus, it's impossible to have a salon now." "you are indeed right," said madame récamier, sadly. "those were palmy days when genius was satisfied with chicken salad and lemonade. i shall never forget those nights when the wit and wisdom of all time were--ah--were on tap at my house, if i may so speak, at a cost to me of lights and supper. now the only people who will come for nothing are those we used to think of paying to stay away. boswell is always ready, but you can't run a salon on boswell." "well," said portia, "i sincerely hope that you won't give up the functions altogether, because i have always found them most delightful. it is still possible to have lights and supper." "i have a plan for next winter," said madame récamier, "but i suppose i shall be accused of going into the commercial side of it if i adopt it. the plan is, briefly, to incorporate my salon. that's an idea worthy of an american, i admit; but if i don't do it i'll have to give it up entirely, which, as you intimate, would be too bad. an incorporated salon, however, would be a grand thing, if only because it would perpetuate the salon. 'the récamier salon (limited)' would be a most excellent title, and, suitably capitalized, would enable us to pay our lions sufficiently. private enterprise is powerless under modern conditions. it's as much as i can afford to pay for a dinner, without running up an expense account for guests; and unless we get up a salon trust, as it were, the whole affair must go to the wall." [illustration: madame rÉcamier has a plan] "how would you make it pay?" asked portia. "i can't see where your dividends would come from." "that is simple enough," said madame récamier. "we could put up a large reception-hall with a portion of our capital, and advertise a series of nights--say one a week throughout the season. these would be warriors' night, story-tellers' night, poets' night, chafing-dish night under the charge of brillat-savarin, and so on. it would be understood that on these particular evenings the most interesting people in certain lines would be present, and would mix with outsiders, who should be admitted only on payment of a certain sum of money. the commonplace inhabitants of this country could thus meet the truly great; and if i know them well, as i think i do, they'll pay readily for the privilege. the obscure love to rub up against the famous here as well as they do on earth." "you'd run a sort of social zoo?" suggested elizabeth. "precisely; and provide entertainment for private residences too. an advertisement in boswell's paper, which everybody buys--" "and which nobody reads," said portia. "they read the advertisements," retorted madame récamier. "as i was saying, an advertisement could be placed in boswell's paper as follows: 'are you giving a function? do you want talent? get your genius at the récamier salon (limited).' it would be simply magnificent as a business enterprise. the common herd would be tickled to death if they could get great people at their homes, even if they had to pay roundly for them." "it would look well in the society notes, wouldn't it, if mr. john boggs gave a reception, and at the close of the account it said, 'the supper was furnished by calizetti, and the genius by the récamier salon (limited)'?" suggested elizabeth, scornfully. "i must admit," replied the french lady, "that you call up an unpleasant possibility, but i don't really see what else we can do if we want to preserve the salon idea. somebody has told these talented people that they have a commercial value, and they are availing themselves of the demand." "it is a sad age!" sighed elizabeth. "well, all i've got to say is just this," put in xanthippe: "you people who get up functions have brought this condition of affairs on yourselves. you were not satisfied to go ahead and indulge your passion for lions in a moderate fashion. take the case of demosthenes last winter, for instance. his wife told me that he dined at home three times during the winter. the rest of the time he was out, here, there, and everywhere, making after-dinner speeches. the saving on his dinner bills didn't pay his pebble account, much less remunerate him for his time, and the fearful expense of nervous energy to which he was subjected. it was as much as she could do, she said, to keep him from shaving one side of his head, so that he couldn't go out, the way he used to do in athens when he was afraid he would be invited out and couldn't scare up a decent excuse for refusing." "did he do that?" cried elizabeth, with a roar of laughter. "so the cyclopædias say. it's a good plan, too," said xanthippe. "though socrates never had to do it. when i got the notion socrates was going out too much, i used to hide his dress clothes. then there was the case of rubens. he gave a carbon talk at the sforza's thursday night club, merely to oblige madame sforza, and three weeks later discovered that she had sold his pictures to pay for her gown! you people simply run it into the ground. you kill the goose that when taken at the flood leads on to fortune. it advertises you, does the lion no good, and he is expected to be satisfied with confectionery, material and theoretical. if they are getting tired of candy and compliments, it's because you have forced too much of it upon them." "they like it, just the same," retorted récamier. "a genius likes nothing better than the sound of his own voice, when he feels that it is falling on aristocratic ears. the social laurel rests pleasantly on many a noble brow." "true," said xanthippe. "but when a man gets a pile of christmas wreaths a mile high on his head, he begins to wonder what they will bring on the market. an occasional wreath is very nice, but by the ton they are apt to weigh on his mind. up to a certain point notoriety is like a woman, and a man is apt to love it; but when it becomes exacting, demanding instead of permitting itself to be courted, it loses its charm." "that is socratic in its wisdom," smiled portia. "but xanthippic in its origin," returned xanthippe. "no man ever gave me my ideas." as xanthippe spoke, lucretia borgia burst into the room. "hurry and save yourselves!" she cried. "the boat has broken loose from her moorings, and is floating down the stream. if we don't hurry up and do something, we'll drift out to sea!" "what!" cried cleopatra, dropping her cue in terror, and rushing for the stairs. "i was certain i felt a slight motion. you said it was the wash from one of charon's barges, elizabeth." "i thought it was," said elizabeth, following closely after. "well, it wasn't," moaned lucretia borgia. "calpurnia just looked out of the window and discovered that we were in mid-stream." the ladies crowded anxiously about the stair and attempted to ascend, cleopatra in the van; but as the egyptian queen reached the doorway to the upper deck, the door opened, and the hard features of captain kidd were thrust roughly through, and his strident voice rang out through the gathering gloom. "pipe my eye for a sardine if we haven't captured a female seminary!" he cried. [illustration: "the hard features of kidd were thrust through"] and one by one the ladies, in terror, shrank back into the billiard-room, while kidd, overcome by surprise, slammed the door to, and retreated into the darkness of the forward deck to consult with his followers as to "what next." v a conference on deck "here's a kettle of fish!" said kidd, pulling his chin whisker in perplexity as he and his fellow-pirates gathered about the capstan to discuss the situation. "i'm blessed if in all my experience i ever sailed athwart anything like it afore! pirating with a lot of low-down ruffians like you gentlemen is bad enough, but on a craft loaded to the water's edge with advanced women--i've half a mind to turn back." [illustration: "'here's a kettle of fish,' said kidd"] "if you do, you swim--we'll not turn back with you," retorted abeuchapeta, whom, in honor of his prowess, kidd had appointed executive officer of the house-boat. "i have no desire to be mutinous, captain kidd, but i have not embarked upon this enterprise for a pleasure sail down the styx. i am out for business. if you had thirty thousand women on board, still should i not turn back." "but what shall we do with 'em?" pleaded kidd. "where can we go without attracting attention? who's going to feed 'em? who's going to dress 'em? who's going to keep 'em in bonnets? you don't know anything about these creatures, my dear abeuchapeta; and, by-the-way, can't we arbitrate that name of yours? it would be fearful to remember in the excitement of a fight." "call him ab," suggested sir henry morgan, with an ill-concealed sneer, for he was deeply jealous of abeuchapeta's preferral. "if you do i'll call you morgue, and change your appearance to fit," retorted abeuchapeta, angrily. "by the beards of all my sainted buccaneers," began morgan, springing angrily to his feet, "i'll have your life!" "gentlemen! gentlemen--my noble ruffians!" expostulated kidd. "come, come; this will never do! i must have no quarrelling among my aides. this is no time for divisions in our councils. an entirely unexpected element has entered into our affairs, and it behooveth us to act in concert. it is no light matter--" "excuse me, captain," said abeuchapeta, "but that is where you and i do not agree. we've got our ship and we've got our crew, and in addition we find that the fates have thrown in a hundred or more women to act as ballast. now i, for one, do not fear a woman. we can set them to work. there is plenty for them to do keeping things tidy; and if we get into a very hard fight, and come out of the mêlée somewhat the worse for wear, it will be a blessing to have 'em along to mend our togas, sew buttons on our uniforms, and darn our hosiery." morgan laughed sarcastically. "when did you flourish, if ever, colonel?" he asked. "do you refer to me?" queried abeuchapeta, with a frown. "you have guessed correctly," replied morgan, icily. "i have quite forgotten your date; were you a success in the year one, or when?" "admiral abeuchapeta, sir henry," interposed kidd, fearing a further outbreak of hostilities--"admiral abeuchapeta was the terror of the seas in the seventh century, and what he undertook to do he did, and his piratical enterprises were carried on on a scale of magnificence which is without parallel off the comic-opera stage. he never went forth without at least seventy galleys and a hundred other vessels." abeuchapeta drew himself up proudly. "six-ninety-eight was my great year," he said. "that's what i thought," said morgan. "that is to say, you got your ideas of women twelve hundred years ago, and the ladies have changed somewhat since that time. i have great respect for you, sir, as a ruffian. i have no doubt that as a ruffian you are a complete success, but when it comes to 'feminology' you are sailing in unknown waters. the study of women, my dear abeuchadnezzar--" "peta," retorted abeuchapeta, irritably. "i stand corrected. the study of women, my dear peter," said morgan, with a wink at conrad, which fortunately the seventh-century pirate did not see, else there would have been an open break--"the study of women is more difficult than that of astronomy; there may be two stars alike, but all women are unique. because she was this, that, or the other thing in your day does not prove that she is any one of those things in our day--in fact, it proves the contrary. why, i venture even to say that no individual woman is alike." "that's rather a hazy thought," said kidd, scratching his head in a puzzled sort of way. "i mean that she's different from herself at different times," said morgan. "what is it the poet called her?--'an infinite variety show,' or something of that sort; a perpetual vaudeville--a continuous performance, as it were, from twelve to twelve." "morgan is right, admiral!" put in conrad the corsair, acting temporarily as bo'sun. "the times are sadly changed, and woman is no longer what she was. she is hardly what she is, much less what she was. the roman gynæceum would be an impossibility to-day. you might as well expect delilah to open a barbershop on board this boat as ask any of these advanced females below-stairs to sew buttons on a pirate's uniform after a fray, or to keep the fringe on his epaulets curled. they're no longer sewing-machines--they are keeley motors for mystery and perpetual motion. women have views now--they are no longer content to be looked at merely; they must see for themselves; and the more they see, the more they wish to domesticate man and emancipate woman. it's my private opinion that if we are to get along with them at all the best thing to do is to let 'em alone. i have always found i was better off in the abstract, and if this question is going to be settled in a purely democratic fashion by submitting it to a vote, i'll vote for any measure which involves leaving them strictly to themselves. they're nothing but a lot of ghosts anyhow, like ourselves, and we can pretend we don't see them." "if that could be, it would be excellent," said morgan; "but it is impossible. for a pirate of the byronic order, my dear conrad, you are strangely unversed in the ways of the sex which cheers but not inebriates. we can no more ignore their presence upon this boat than we can expect whales to spout kerosene. in the first place, it would be excessively impolite of us to cut them--to decline to speak to them if they should address us. we may be pirates, ruffians, cutthroats, but i hope we shall never forget that we are gentlemen." "the whole situation is rather contrary to etiquette, don't you think?" suggested conrad. "there's nobody to introduce us, and i can't really see how we can do otherwise than ignore them. i certainly am not going to stand on deck and make eyes at them, to try and pick up an acquaintance with them, even if i am of a byronic strain." "you forget," said kidd, "two essential features of the situation. these women are at present--or shortly will be, when they realize their situation--in distress, and a true gentleman may always fly to the rescue of a distressed female; and, the second point, we shall soon be on the seas, and i understand that on the fashionable transatlantic lines it is now considered _de rigueur_ to speak to anybody you choose to. the introduction business isn't going to stand in my way." "well, may i ask," put in abeuchapeta, "just what it is that is worrying you? you said something about feeding them, and dressing them, and keeping them in bonnets. i fancy there's fish enough in the sea to feed 'em; and as for their gowns and hats, they can make 'em themselves. every woman is a milliner at heart." "exactly, and we'll have to pay the milliners. that is what bothers me. i was going to lead this expedition to london, paris, and new york, admiral. that is where the money is, and to get it you've got to go ashore, to headquarters. you cannot nowadays find it on the high seas. modern civilization," said kidd, "has ruined the pirate's business. the latest news from the other world has really opened my eyes to certain facts that i never dreamed of. the conditions of the day of which i speak are interestingly shown in the experience of our friend hawkins here. captain hawkins, would you have any objection to stating to these gentlemen the condition of affairs which led you to give up piracy on the high seas?" "not the slightest, captain kidd," returned captain hawkins, who was a recent arrival in hades. "it is a sad little story, and it gives me a pain for to think on it, but none the less i'll tell it, since you ask me. when i were a mere boy, fellow-pirates, i had but one ambition, due to my readin', which was confined to stories of a sunday-school nater--to become somethin' different from the little willies an' the clever tommies what i read about therein. they was all good, an' they went to their reward too soon in life for me, who even in them days regarded death as a stuffy an' unpleasant diversion. learnin' at an early period that virtue was its only reward, an' a-wish-in' others, i says to myself: 'jim,' says i, 'if you wishes to become a magnet in this village, be sinful. if so be as you are a good boy, an' kind to your sister an' all other animals, you'll end up as a prosperous father with fifteen hundred a year sure, with never no hope for no public preferment beyond bein' made the superintendent of the sunday-school; but if so be as how you're bad, you may become famous, an' go to congress, an' have your picture in the sunday noospapers.' so i looks around for books tellin' how to get 'famous in fifty ways,' an' after due reflection i settles in my mind that to be a pirate's just the thing for me, seein' as how it's both profitable an' healthy. passin' over details, let me tell you that i became a pirate. i ran away to sea, an' by dint of perseverance, as the sunday-school books useter say, in my badness i soon became the centre of a evil lot; an' when i says to 'em, 'boys, i wants to be a pirate chief,' they hollers back, loud like, 'jim, we're with you,' an' they was. for years i was the terror of the venezuelan gulf, the spanish main, an' the pacific seas, but there was precious little money into it. the best pay i got was from a sunday noospaper, which paid me well to sign an article on 'modern piracy' which i didn't write. finally business got so bad the crew began to murmur, an' i was at my wits' ends to please 'em; when one mornin', havin' passed a restless night, i picks up a noospaper and sees in it that 'next saturday's steamer is a weritable treasure-ship, takin' out twelve million dollars, and the jewels of a certain prima donna valued at five hundred thousand.' 'here's my chance,' says i, an' i goes to sea and lies in wait for the steamer. i captures her easy, my crew bein' hungry, an' fightin' according like. we steals the box a-hold-in' the jewels an' the bag containin' the millions, hustles back to our own ship, an' makes for our rondyvoo, me with two bullets in my leg, four o' my crew killed, and one engin' of my ship disabled by a shot--but happy. twelve an' a half millions at one break is enough to make anybody happy." "i should say so," said abeuchapeta, with an ecstatic shake of his head. "i didn't get that in all my career." "nor i," sighed kidd. "but go on, hawkins." "well, as i says," continued captain hawkins, "we goes to the rondyvoo to look over our booty. 'captain 'awkins,' says my valet--for i was a swell pirate, gents, an' never travelled nowhere without a man to keep my clothes brushed and the proper wrinkles in my trousers--'this 'ere twelve millions,' says he, 'is werry light,' says he, carryin' the bag ashore. 'i don't care how light it is, so long as it's twelve millions, henderson,' says i; but my heart sinks inside o' me at his words, an' the minute we lands i sits down to investigate right there on the beach. i opens the bag, an' it's the one i was after--but the twelve millions!" "weren't there?" cried conrad. "yes, they was there," sighed hawkins, "but every bloomin' million was represented by a certified check, an' payable in london!" [illustration: "'every bloomin' million was represented by a certified check, an' payable in london'"] "by jingo!" cried morgan. "what fearful luck! but you had the prima donna's jewels." "yes," said hawkins, with a moan. "but they was like all other prima donna's jewels--for advertisin' purposes only, an' made o' gum-arabic!" "horrible!" said abeuchapeta. "and the crew, what did they say?" "they was a crew of a few words," sighed hawkins. "werry few words, an' not a civil word in the lot--mostly adjectives of a profane kind. when i told 'em what had happened, they got mad at fortune for a-jiltin' of 'em, an'--well, i came here. i was 'sas'inated that werry night!" "they killed you?" cried morgan. "a dozen times," nodded hawkins. "they always was a lavish lot. i met death in all its most horrid forms. first they stabbed me, then they shot me, then they clubbed me, and so on, endin' up with a lynchin'--but i didn't mind much after the first, which hurt a bit. but now that i'm here i'm glad it happened. this life is sort of less responsible than that other. you can't hurt a ghost by shooting him, because there ain't nothing to hurt, an' i must say i like bein' a mere vision what everybody can see through." "all of which interesting tale proves what?" queried abeuchapeta. "that piracy on the sea is not profitable in these days of the check banking system," said kidd. "if you can get a chance at real gold it's all right, but it's of no earthly use to steal checks that people can stop payment on. therefore it was my plan to visit the cities and do a little freebooting there, where solid material wealth is to be found." "well? can't we do it now?" asked abeuchapeta. "not with these women tagging after us," returned kidd. "if we went to london and lifted the whole bank of england, these women would have it spent on regent street inside of twenty-four hours." "then leave them on board," said abeuchapeta. "and have them steal the ship!" retorted kidd. "no. there are but two things to do. take 'em back, or land them in paris. tell them to spend a week on shore while we are provisioning. tell 'em to shop to their hearts' content, and while they are doing it we can sneak off and leave them stranded." "splendid!" cried morgan. "but will they consent?" asked abeuchapeta. "consent! to shop? in paris? for a week?" cried morgan. "ha, ha!" laughed hawkins. "will they consent! will a duck swim?" and so it was decided, which was the first incident in the career of the house-boat upon which the astute mr. sherlock holmes had failed to count. vi a conference below-stairs when, with a resounding slam, the door to the upper deck of the house-boat was shut in the faces of queens elizabeth and cleopatra by the unmannerly kidd, these ladies turned and gazed at those who thronged the stairs behind them in blank amazement, and the heart of xanthippe, had one chosen to gaze through that diaphanous person's ribs, could have been seen to beat angrily. queen elizabeth was so excited at this wholly novel attitude towards her regal self that, having turned, she sat down plump upon the floor in the most unroyal fashion. "well!" she ejaculated. "if this does not surpass everything! the idea of it! oh for one hour of my olden power, one hour of the axe, one hour of the block!" [illustration: queen elizabeth desires an axe and one hour of her olden power] "get up," retorted cleopatra, "and let us all return to the billiard-room and discuss this matter calmly. it is quite evident that something has happened of which we wotted little when we came aboard this craft." "that is a good idea," said calpurnia, retreating below. "i can see through the window that we are in motion. the vessel has left her moorings, and is making considerable headway down the stream, and the distinctly masculine voices we have heard are indications to my mind that the ship is manned, and that this is the result of design rather than of accident. let us below." elizabeth rose up and readjusted her ruff, which in the excitement of the moment had been forced to assume a position about her forehead which gave one the impression that its royal wearer had suddenly donned a sombrero. "very well," she said. "let us below; but oh, for the axe!" "bring the lady an axe," cried xanthippe, sarcastically. "she wants to cut somebody." the sally was not greeted with applause. the situation was regarded as being too serious to admit of humor, and in silence they filed back into the billiard-room, and, arranging themselves in groups, stood about anxiously discussing the situation. "it's getting rougher every minute," sobbed ophelia. "look at those pool-balls!" these were in very truth chasing each other about the table in an extraordinary fashion. "and i wish i'd never followed you horrid new creatures on board!" the poor girl added, in an agony of despair. "i believe we've crossed the bar already!" said cleopatra, gazing out of the window at a nasty choppy sea that was adding somewhat to the disquietude of the fair gathering. "if this is merely a joke on the part of the associated shades, it is a mighty poor one, and i think it is time it should cease." "oh, for an axe!" moaned elizabeth, again. "excuse me, your majesty," put in xanthippe. "you said that before, and i must say it is getting tiresome. you couldn't do anything with an axe. suppose you had one. what earthly good would it do you, who were accustomed to doing all your killing by proxy? i don't believe, if you had the unmannerly person who slammed the door in your face lying prostrate upon the billiard-table here, you could hit him a square blow in the neck if you had a hundred axes. delilah might as well cry for her scissors, for all the good it would do us in our predicament. if cleopatra had her asp with her it might be more to the purpose. one deadly little snake like that let loose on the upper deck would doubtless drive these boors into the sea, and even then our condition would not be bettered, for there isn't any of us that can sail a boat. there isn't an old salt among us." "too bad mrs. lot isn't along," giggled marguerite de valois, whose gallic spirits were by no means overshadowed by the unhappy predicament in which she found herself. "i'm here," piped up mrs. lot. "but i'm not that kind of a salt." "i am present," said mrs. noah. "though why i ever came i don't know, for i vowed the minute i set my foot on ararat that dry land was good enough for me, and that i'd never step aboard another boat as long as i lived. if, however, now that i am here, i can give you the benefit of my nautical experience, you are all perfectly welcome to it." "i'm sure we're very much obliged for the offer," said portia, "but in the emergency which has arisen we cannot say how much obliged we are until we know what your experience amounted to. before relying upon you we ought to know how far that reliance can go--not that i lack confidence in you, my dear madam, but that in an hour of peril one must take care to rely upon the oak, not upon the reed." "the point is properly taken," said elizabeth, "and i wish to say here that i am easier in my mind when i realize that we have with us so level-headed a person as the lady who has just spoken. she has spoken truly and to the point. if i were to become queen again, i should make her my attorney-general. we must not go ahead impulsively, but look at all things in a calm, judicial manner." "which is pretty hard work with a sea like this on," remarked ophelia, faintly, for she was getting a trifle sallow, as indeed she might, for the house-boat was beginning to roll tremendously, with no alleviation save an occasional pitch, which was an alleviation only in the sense that it gave variety to their discomfort. "i don't believe a chief-justice could look at things calmly and in a judicial manner if he felt as i do." "poor dear!" said the matronly mrs. noah, sympathetically. "i know exactly how you feel. i have been there myself. the fourth day out i and my whole family were in the same condition, except that noah, my husband, was so very far gone that i could not afford to yield. i nursed him for six days before he got his sea-legs on, and then succumbed myself." "but," gasped ophelia, "that doesn't help me--" "it did my husband," said mrs. noah. "when he heard that the boys were sea-sick too, he actually laughed and began to get better right away. there is really only one cure for the _mal de mer_, and that is the fun of knowing that somebody else is suffering too. if some of you ladies would kindly yield to the seductions of the sea, i think we could get this poor girl on her feet in an instant." unfortunately for poor ophelia, there was no immediate response to this appeal, and the unhappy young woman was forced to suffer in solitude. "we have no time for untimely diversions of this sort," snapped xanthippe, with a scornful glance at the suffering ophelia, who, having retired to a comfortable lounge at an end of the room, was evidently improving. "i have no sympathy with this habit some of my sex seem to have acquired of succumbing to an immediate sensation of this nature." "i hope to be pardoned for interrupting," said mrs. noah, with a great deal of firmness, "but i wish mrs. socrates to understand that it is rather early in the voyage for her to lay down any such broad principle as that, and for her own sake to-morrow, i think it would be well if she withdrew the sentiment. there are certain things about a sea-voyage that are more or less beyond the control of man or woman, and any one who chides that poor suffering child on yonder sofa ought to be more confident than mrs. socrates can possibly be that within an hour she will not be as badly off. people who live in glass houses should not throw dice." "i shall never yield to anything so undignified as seasickness, let me tell you that," retorted xanthippe. "furthermore, the proverb is not as the lady has quoted it. 'people who live in glass houses should not throw stones' is the proper version." "i was not quoting," returned mrs. noah, calmly. "when i said that people who live in glass houses should not throw dice, i meant precisely what i said. people who live in glass houses should not take chances. in assuming with such vainglorious positiveness that she will not be seasick, the lady who has just spoken is giving tremendous odds, as the boys used to say on the ark when we gathered about the table at night and began to make small wagers on the day's run." "i think we had better suspend this discussion," suggested cleopatra. "it is of no immediate interest to any one but ophelia, and i fancy she does not care to dwell upon it at any great length. it is more important that we should decide upon our future course of action. in the first place, the question is who these people up on deck are. if they are the members of the club, we are all right. they will give us our scare, and land us safely again at the pier. in that event it is our womanly duty to manifest no concern, and to seem to be aware of nothing unusual in the proceeding. it would never do to let them think that their joke has been a good one. if, on the other hand, as i fear, we are the victims of some horde of ruffians, who have pounced upon us unawares, and are going into the business of abduction on a wholesale basis, we must meet treachery with treachery, strategy with strategy. i, for one, am perfectly willing to make every man on board walk the plank, having confidence in the seawomanship of mrs. noah and her ability to steer us into port." "i am quite in accord with these views," put in madame récamier, "and i move you, mrs. president, that we organize a series of subcommittees--one on treachery, with lucretia borgia and delilah as members; one on strategy, consisting of portia and queen elizabeth; one on navigation, headed by mrs. noah; with a final subcommittee on reconnoitre, with cassandra to look forward, and mrs. lot to look aft--all of these subordinated to a central committee of safety headed by cleopatra and calpurnia. the rest of us can then commit ourselves and our interests unreservedly to these ladies, and proceed to enjoy ourselves without thought of the morrow." "i second the motion," said ophelia, "with the amendment that madame récamier be appointed chair-lady of another subcommittee, on entertainment." the amendment was accepted, and the motion put. it was carried with an enthusiastic aye, and the organization was complete. the various committees retired to the several corners of the room to discuss their individual lines of action, when a shadow was observed to obscure the moonlight which had been streaming in through the window. the faces of calpurnia and cleopatra blanched for an instant, as, immediately following upon this apparition, a large bundle was hurled through the open port into the middle of the room, and the shadow vanished. "is it a bomb?" cried several of the ladies at once. "nonsense!" said madame récamier, jumping lightly forward. "a man doesn't mind blowing a woman up, but he'll never blow himself up. we're safe enough in that respect. the thing looks to me like a bundle of illustrated papers." "that's what it is," said cleopatra, who had been investigating. "it's rather a discourteous bit of courtesy, tossing them in through the window that way, i think, but i presume they mean well. dear me," she added, as, having untied the bundle, she held one of the open papers up before her, "how interesting! all the latest paris fashions. humph! look at those sleeves, elizabeth. what an impregnable fortress you would have been with those sleeves added to your ruffs!" "i should think they'd be very becoming," put in cassandra, standing on her tiptoes and looking over cleopatra's shoulder. "that watteau isn't bad, either, is it, now?" "no," remarked calpurnia. "i wonder how a watteau back like that would go on my blue alpaca?" "very nicely," said elizabeth. "how many gores has it?" "five," observed calpurnia. "one more than cæsar's toga. we had to have our costumes distinct in some way." "a remarkable hat, that," nodded mrs. lot, her eye catching sight of a virot creation at the top of the page. "reminds me of eve's description of an autumn scene in the garden," smiled mrs. noah. "gorgeous in its foliage, beautiful thing; though i shouldn't have dared wear one in the ark, with all those hungry animals browsing about the upper and lower decks." "i wonder," remarked cleopatra, as she cocked her head to one side to take in the full effect of an attractive summer gown--"i wonder how that waist would make up in blue crépon, with a yoke of lace and a stylishly contrasting stock of satin ribbon?" "it would depend upon how you finished the sleeves," remarked madame récamier. "if you had a few puffs of rich brocaded satin set in with deeply folded pleats it wouldn't be bad." "i think it would be very effective," observed mrs. noah, "but a trifle too light for general wear. i should want some kind of a wrap with it." "it does need that," assented elizabeth. "a wrap made of passementerie and jet, with a mousseline de soie ruche about the neck held by a _chou_, would make it fascinating." "the committee on treachery is ready to report," said delilah, rising from her corner, where she and lucretia borgia had been having so animated a discussion that they had failed to observe the others crowding about cleopatra and the papers. [illustration: "'the committee on treachery is ready to report'"] "a little sombre," said cleopatra. "the corsage is effective, but i don't like those basque terminations. i've never approved of those full godets--" "the committee on treachery," remarked delilah again, raising her voice, "has a suggestion to make." "i can't get over those sleeves, though," laughed helen of troy. "what is the use of them?" "they might be used to get greeks into troy," suggested madame récamier. "the committee on treachery," roared delilah, thoroughly angered by the absorption of the chairman and others, "has a suggestion to make. this is the third and last call." "oh, i beg pardon," cried cleopatra, rapping for order. "i had forgotten all about our committees. excuse me, delilah. i--ah--was absorbed in other matters. will you kindly lay your pattern--i should say your plan--before us?" "it is briefly this," said delilah. "it has been suggested that we invite the crew of this vessel to a chafing-dish party, under the supervision of lucretia borgia, and that she--" the balance of the plan was not outlined, for at this point the speaker was interrupted by a loud knocking at the door, its instant opening, and the appearance in the doorway of that ill-visaged ruffian captain kidd. "ladies," he began, "i have come here to explain to you the situation in which you find yourselves. have i your permission to speak?" the ladies started back, but the chairman was equal to the occasion. "go on," said cleopatra, with queenly dignity, turning to the interloper; and the pirate proceeded to take the second step in the nefarious plan upon which he and his brother ruffians had agreed, of which the tossing in through the window of the bundle of fashion papers was the first. vii the "gehenna" is chartered it was about twenty-four hours after the events narrated in the preceding chapters that mr. sherlock holmes assumed command of the _gehenna_, which was nothing more nor less than the shadow of the ill-starred ocean steamship _city of chicago_, which tried some years ago to reach liverpool by taking the overland route through ireland, fortunately without detriment to her passengers or crew, who had the pleasure of the experience of shipwreck without any of the discomforts of drowning. as will be remembered, the obstructionist nature of the irish soil prevented the _city of chicago_ from proceeding farther inland than was necessary to keep her well balanced amidships upon a convenient and not too stony bed; and that after a brief sojourn on the rocks she was finally disposed of to the styx navigation company, under which title charon had had himself incorporated, is a matter of nautical history. the change of name to the _gehenna_ was the act of charon himself, and was prompted, no doubt, by a desire to soften the jealous prejudices of the residents of the stygian capital against the flourishing and ever-growing metropolis of illinois. the associated shades had had some trouble in getting this craft. charon, through his constant association with life on both sides of the dark river, had gained a knowledge, more or less intimate, of modern business methods, and while as janitor of the club he was subject to the will of the house committee, and sympathized deeply with the members of the association in their trouble, as president of the styx navigation company he was bound up in certain newly attained commercial ideas which were embarrassing to those members of the association to whose hands the chartering of a vessel had been committed. "see here, charon," sir walter raleigh had said, after charon had expressed himself as deeply sympathetic, but unable to shave the terms upon which the vessel could be had, "you are an infernal old hypocrite. you go about wringing your hands over our misfortunes until they've got as dry and flabby as a pair of kid gloves, and yet when we ask you for a ship of suitable size and speed to go out after those pirates, you become a sort of twin brother to shylock, without his excuse. his instincts are accidents of birth. yours are cultivated, and you know it." "you are very much mistaken, sir walter," charon had answered to this. "you don't understand my position. it is a very hard one. as janitor of your club i am really prostrated over the events of the past twenty-four hours. my occupation is gone, and my despair over your loss is correspondingly greater, for i have time on my hands to brood over it. i was hysterical as a woman yesterday afternoon--so hysterical that i came near upsetting one of the furies who engaged me to row her down to madame medusa's villa last evening; and right at the sluice of the vitriol reservoir at that." [illustration: "'you are very much mistaken, sir walter'"] "then why the deuce don't you do something to help us?" pleaded hamlet. "how can i do any more than i have done? i've offered you the _gehenna_," retorted charon. "but on what terms?" expostulated raleigh. "if we had all the wealth of the indies we'd have difficulty in paying you the sums you demand." "but i am only president of the company," explained charon. "i'd like, as president, to show you some courtesy, and i'm perfectly willing to do so; but when it comes down to giving you a vessel like that, i'm bound by my official oath to consider the interest of the stockholders. it isn't as it used to be when i had boats to hire in my own behalf alone. in those days i had nobody's interest but my own to look after. now the ships all belong to the styx navigation company. can't you see the difference?" "you own all the stock, don't you?" insisted raleigh. "i don't know," charon answered, blandly. "i haven't seen the transfer-books lately." "but you know that you did own every share of it, and that you haven't sold any, don't you?" put in hamlet. charon was puzzled for a moment, but shortly his face cleared, and sir walter's heart sank, for it was evident that the old fellow could not be cornered. "well, it's this way, sir walter, and your highness," he said, "i--i can't say whether any of that stock has been transferred or not. the fact is, i've been speculating a little on margin, and i've put up that stock as security, and, for all i know, i may have been sold out by my brokers. i've been so upset by this unfortunate occurrence that i haven't seen the market reports for two days. really you'll have to be content with my offer or go without the _gehenna_. there's too much suspicion attached to high corporate officials lately for me to yield a jot in the position i have taken. it would never do to get you all ready to start, and then have an injunction clapped on you by some unforeseen stockholder who was not satisfied with the terms offered you; nor can i ever let it be said of me that to retain my position as janitor of your organization i sacrificed a trust committed to my charge. i'll gladly lend you my private launch, though i don't think it will aid you much, because the naphtha-tank has exploded, and the screw slipped off and went to the bottom two weeks ago. still, it is at your service, and i've no doubt that either phidias or benvenuto cellini will carve out a paddle for you if you ask him to." "bah!" retorted raleigh. "you might as well offer us a pair of skates." "i would, if i thought the river'd freeze," retorted charon, blandly. raleigh and hamlet turned away impatiently and left charon to his own devices, which for the time being consisted largely of winking his other eye quietly and outwardly making a great show of grief. "he's too canny for us, i am afraid," said sir walter. "we'll have to pay him his money." "let us first consult sherlock holmes," suggested hamlet, and this they proceeded at once to do. "there is but one thing to be done," observed the astute detective after he had heard sir walter's statement of the case. "it is an old saying that one should fight fire with fire. we must meet modern business methods with modern commercial ideas. charter his vessel at his own price." "but we'd never be able to pay," said hamlet. "ha-ha!" laughed holmes. "it is evident that you know nothing of the laws of trade nowadays. don't pay!" "but how can we?" asked raleigh. "the method is simple. you haven't anything to pay with," returned holmes. "let him sue. suppose he gets a verdict. you haven't anything he can attach--if you have, make it over to your wives or your fiancées." "is that honest?" asked hamlet, shaking his head doubtfully. "it's business," said holmes. "but suppose he wants an advance payment?" queried hamlet. "give him a check drawn to his own order. he'll have to endorse it when he deposits it, and that will make him responsible," laughed holmes. "what a simple thing when you understand it!" commented raleigh. "very," said holmes. "business is getting by slow degrees to be an exact science. it reminds me of the brighton mystery, in which i played a modest part some ten years ago, when i first took up ferreting as a profession. i was sitting one night in my room at one of the brighton hotels, which shall be nameless. i never give the name of any of the hotels at which i stop, because it might give offence to the proprietors of other hotels, with the result that my books would be excluded from sale therein. suffice it to say that i was spending an early summer sunday at brighton with my friend watson. we had dined well, and were enjoying our evening smoke together upon a small balcony overlooking the water, when there came a timid knock on the door of my room. "'watson,' said i, 'here comes some one for advice. do you wish to wager a small bottle upon it?' "'yes,' he answered, with a smile. 'i am thirsty and i'd like a small bottle; and while i do not expect to win, i'll take the bet. i should like to know, though, how you know.' "'it is quite simple,' said i. 'the timidity of the knock shows that my visitor is one of two classes of persons--an autograph-hunter or a client, one of the two. you see i give you a chance to win. it may be an autograph-hunter, but i think it is a client. if it were a creditor, he would knock boldly, even ostentatiously; if it were the maid, she would not knock at all; if it were the hall-boy, he would not come until i had rung five times for him. none of these things has occurred; the knock is the half-hearted knock which betokens either that the person who knocked is in trouble, or is uncertain as to his reception. i am willing, however, considering the heat and my desire to quench my thirst, to wager that it is a client.' "'done,' said watson; and i immediately remarked, 'come in.' "the door opened, and a man of about thirty-five years of age, in a bathing-suit, entered the room, and i saw at a glance what had happened. "'your name is burgess,' i said. 'you came here from london this morning, expecting to return to-night. you brought no luggage with you. after luncheon you went in bathing. you had machine no. , and when you came out of the water you found that no. had disappeared, with your clothes and the silver watch your uncle gave you on the day you succeeded to his business.' "of course, gentlemen," observed the detective, with a smile at sir walter and hamlet--"of course the man fairly gasped, and i continued: 'you have been lying face downward in the sand ever since, waiting for nightfall, so that you could come to me for assistance, not considering it good form to make an afternoon call upon a stranger at his hotel, clad in a bathing-suit. am i correct?' "'sir,' he replied, with a look of wonder, 'you have narrated my story exactly as it happened, and i find i have made no mistake in coming to you. would you mind telling me what is your course of reasoning?' "'it is plain as day,' said i. 'i am the person with the red beard with whom you came down third class from london this morning, and you told me your name was burgess and that you were a butcher. when you looked to see the time, i remarked upon the oddness of your watch, which led to your telling me that it was the gift of your uncle.' "'true,' said burgess, 'but i did not tell you i had no luggage.' "'no,' said i, 'but that you hadn't is plain; for if you had brought any other clothing besides that you had on with you, you would have put it on to come here. that you have been robbed i deduce also from your costume.' "'but the number of the machine?' asked watson. "'is on the tag on the key hanging about his neck,' said i. "'one more question,' queried burgess. 'how do you know i have been lying face downward on the beach ever since?' "'by the sand in your eyebrows,' i replied; and watson ordered up the small bottle." "i fail to see what it was in our conversation, however," observed hamlet, somewhat impatient over the delay caused by the narration of this tale, "that suggested this train of thought to you." "the sequel will show," returned holmes. "oh, lord!" put in raleigh. "can't we put off the sequel until a later issue? remember, mr. holmes, that we are constantly losing time." "the sequel is brief, and i can narrate it on our way to the office of the navigation company," observed the detective. "when the bottle came i invited mr. burgess to join us, which he did, and as the hour was late when we came to separate, i offered him the use of my parlor overnight. this he accepted, and we retired. "the next morning when i arose to dress, the mystery was cleared." "you had dreamed its solution?" asked raleigh. "no," replied holmes. "burgess had disappeared with all my clothing, my false-beard, my suit-case, and my watch. the only thing he had left me was the bathing-suit and a few empty small bottles." "and why, may i ask," put in hamlet, as they drew near to charon's office--"why does that case remind you of business as it is conducted to-day?" "in this, that it is a good thing to stay out of unless you know it all," explained holmes. "i omitted in the case of burgess to observe one thing about him. had i observed that his nose was rectilinear, incurved, and with a lifted base, and that his auricular temporal angle was between and degrees, i should have known at once that he was an impostor. _vide_ ottolenghui on 'ears and noses i have met,' pp. - ." "do you mean to say that you can tell a criminal by his ears?" demanded hamlet. "if he has any--yes; but i did not know that at the time of the brighton mystery. therefore i should have stayed out of the case. but here we are. good-morning, charon." by this time the trio had entered the private office of the president of the styx navigation company, and in a few moments the vessel was chartered at a fabulous price. on the return to the wharf, sir walter somewhat nervously asked holmes if he thought the plan they had settled upon would work. "charon is a very shrewd old fellow," said he. "he may outwit us yet." "the chances are just two and one-eighth degrees in your favor," observed holmes, quietly, with a glance at raleigh's ears. "the temporal angle of your ears is - / degrees, whereas charon's stand out at , by my otometer. to that extent your criminal instincts are superior to his. if criminology is an exact science, reasoning by your respective ears, you ought to beat him out by a perceptible though possibly narrow margin." with which assurance raleigh went ahead with his preparations, and within twelve hours the _gehenna_ was under way, carrying a full complement of crew and officers, with every state-room on board occupied by some spirit of the more illustrious kind. even shylock was on board, though no one knew it, for in the dead of night he had stolen quietly up the gang-plank and had hidden himself in an empty water-cask in the forecastle. [illustration: "in the dead of night shylock had stolen up the gang-plank"] "'tisn't venice," he said, as he sat down and breathed heavily through the bung of the barrel, "but it's musty and damp enough, and, considering the cost, i can't complain. you can't get something for nothing, even in hades." viii on board the "gehenna" when the _gehenna_ had passed down the styx and out through the beautiful cimmerian harbor into the broad waters of the ocean, and everything was comparatively safe for a while at least, sherlock holmes came down from the bridge, where he had taken his place as the commander of the expedition at the moment of departure. his brow was furrowed with anxiety, and through his massive forehead his brain could be seen to be throbbing violently, and the corrugations of his gray matter were not pleasant to witness as he tried vainly to squeeze an idea out of them. "what is the matter?" asked demosthenes, anxiously. "we are not in any danger, are we?" "no," replied holmes. "but i am somewhat puzzled at the bubbles on the surface of the ocean, and the ripples which we passed over an hour or two ago, barely perceptible through the most powerful microscope, indicate to my mind that for some reason at present unknown to me the house-boat has changed her course. take that bubble floating by. it is the last expiring bit of aerial agitation of the house-boat's wake. observe whence it comes. not from the azores quarter, but as if instead of steering a straight course thither the house-boat had taken a sharp turn to the northeast, and was making for havre; or, in other words, paris instead of london seems to have become their destination." demosthenes looked at holmes with blank amazement, and, to keep from stammering out the exclamation of wonder that rose to his lips, he opened his _bonbonnière_ and swallowed a pebble. "you don't happen to have a cocaine tablet in your box, do you?" queried holmes. "no," returned the greek. "cocaine makes me flighty and nervous, but these pebbles sort of ballast me and hold me down. how on earth do you know that that bubble comes from the wake of the house-boat?" "by my chemical knowledge, merely," replied holmes. "a merely worldly vessel leaves a phosphorescent bubble in its wake. that one we have just discovered is not so, but sulphurescent, if i may coin a word which it seems to me the english language is very much in need of. it proves, then, that the bubble is a portion of the wake of a stygian craft, and the only stygian craft that has cleared the cimmerian harbor for years is the house-boat--q.e.d." "we can go back until we find the ripple again, and follow that, i presume," sneered le coq, who did not take much stock in the theories of his great rival, largely because he was a detective by intuition rather than by study of the science. "you can if you want to, but it is better not to," rejoined holmes, simply, as though not observing the sneer, "because the ripple represents the outer lines of the angle of disturbance in the water; and as any one of the sides to an angle is greater than the perpendicular from the hypothenuse to the apex, you'd merely be going the long way. this is especially important when you consider the formation of the bow of the house-boat, which is rounded like the stern of most vessels, and comes near to making a pair of ripples at an angle of ninety degrees." "then," observed sir walter, with a sigh of disappointment, "we must change our course and sail for paris?" "i am afraid so," said holmes; "but of course it's by no means certain as yet. i think if columbus would go up into the mizzentop and look about him, he might discover something either in confirmation or refutation of the theory." "he couldn't discover anything," put in pinzon. "he never did." "well, i like that!" retorted columbus. "i'd like to know who discovered america." "so should i," observed leif ericson, with a wink at vespucci. "tut!" retorted columbus. "i did it, and the world knows it, whether you claim it or not." "yes, just as noah discovered ararat," replied pinzon. "you sat upon the deck until we ran plumb into an island, after floating about for three months, and then you couldn't tell it from a continent, even when you had it right before your eyes. noah might just as well have told his family that he discovered a roof garden as for you to go back to spain telling 'em all that san salvador was the united states." "well, i don't care," said columbus, with a short laugh. "i'm the one they celebrate, so what's the odds? i'd rather stay down here in the smoking-room enjoying a small game, anyhow, than climb up that mast and strain my eyes for ten or a dozen hours looking for evidence to prove or disprove the correctness of another man's theory. i wouldn't know evidence when i saw it, anyhow. send judge blackstone." "i draw the line at the mizzentop," observed blackstone. "the dignity of the bench must and shall be preserved, and i'll never consent to climb up that rigging, getting pitch and paint on my ermine, no matter who asks me to go." [illustration: judge blackstone refuses to climb to the mizzentop] "whomsoever i tell to go, shall go," put in holmes, firmly. "i am commander of this ship. it will pay you to remember that, judge blackstone." "and i am the court of appeals," retorted blackstone, hotly. "bear that in mind, captain, when you try to send me up. i'll issue a writ of _habeas corpus_ on my own body, and commit you for contempt." "there's no use of sending the judge, anyhow," said raleigh, fearing by the glitter that came into the eye of the commander that trouble might ensue unless pacificatory measures were resorted to. "he's accustomed to weighing everything carefully, and cannot be rushed into a decision. if he saw any evidence, he'd have to sit on it a week before reaching a conclusion. what we need here more than anything else is an expert seaman, a lookout, and i nominate shem. he has sailed under his father, and i have it on good authority that he is a nautical expert." holmes hesitated for an instant. he was considering the necessity of disciplining the recalcitrant blackstone, but he finally yielded. "very well," he said. "shem be it. bo'sun, pipe shem on deck, and tell him that general order number one requires him to report at the mizzentop right away, and that immediately he sees anything he shall come below and make it known to me. as for the rest of us, having a very considerable appetite, i do now decree that it is dinner-time. shall we go below?" [illustration: shem in the lookout] "i don't think i care for any, thank you," said raleigh. "fact is--ah--i dined last week, and am not hungry." noah laughed. "oh, come below and watch us eat, then," he said. "it'll do you good." but there was no reply. raleigh had plunged head first into his state-room, which fortunately happened to be on the upper deck. the rest of the spirits repaired below to the saloon, where they were soon engaged in an animated discussion of such viands as the larder provided. "this," said dr. johnson, from the head of the table, "is what i call comfort. i don't know that i am so anxious to recover the house-boat, after all." "nor i," said socrates, "with a ship like this to go off cruising on, and with such a larder. look at the thickness of that puree, doctor--" "excuse me," said boswell, faintly, "but i--i've left my note-bub-book upstairs, doctor, and i'd like to go up and get it." "certainly," said dr. johnson. "i judge from your color, which is highly suggestive of a modern magazine poster, that it might be well too if you stayed on deck for a little while and made a few entries in your commonplace book." "thank you," said boswell, gratefully. "shall you say anything clever during dinner, sir? if so, i might be putting it down while i'm up--" "get out!" roared the doctor. "get up as high as you can--get up with shem on the mizzentop--" "very good, sir," replied boswell, and he was off. "you ought to be more lenient with him, doctor," said bonaparte; "he means well." "i know it," observed johnson; "but he's so very previous. last winter, at chaucer's dinner to burns, i made a speech, which boswell printed a week before it was delivered, with the words 'laughter' and 'uproarious applause' interspersed through it. it placed me in a false position." "how did he know what you were going to say?" queried demosthenes. "don't know," replied johnson. "kind of mind-reader, i fancy," he added, blushing a trifle. "but, captain holmes, what do you deduce from your observation of the wake of the house-boat? if she's going to paris, why the change?" "i have two theories," replied the detective. "which is always safe," said le coq. "always; it doubles your chances of success," acquiesced holmes. "anyhow, it gives you a choice, which makes it more interesting. the change of her course from londonward to parisward proves to me either that kidd is not satisfied with the extent of the revenge he has already taken, and wishes to ruin you gentlemen financially by turning your wives, daughters, and sisters loose on the parisian shops, or that the pirates have themselves been overthrown by the ladies, who have decided to prolong their cruise and get some fun out of their misfortune." "and where else than to paris would any one in search of pleasure go?" asked bonaparte. "i had more fun a few miles outside of brussels," said wellington, with a sly wink at washington. "oh, let up on that!" retorted bonaparte. "it wasn't you beat me at waterloo. you couldn't have beaten me at a plain ordinary game of old-maid with a stacked pack of cards, much less in the game of war, if you hadn't had the elements with you." "tut!" snapped wellington. "it was clear science laid you out, boney." "taisey-voo!" shouted the irate corsican. "clear science be hanged! wet science was what did it. if it hadn't been for the rain, my little duke, i should have been in london within a week, my grenadiers would have been camping in your rue peekadeely, and the old guard all over everywhere else." "you must have had a gay army, then," laughed cæsar. "what are french soldiers made of, that they can't stand the wet--unshrunk linen or flannel?" "bah!" observed napoleon, shrugging his shoulders and walking a few paces away. "you do not understand the french. the frenchman is not a pell-mell soldier like you romans; he is the poet of arms; he does not go in for glory at the expense of his dignity; style, form, is dearer to him than honor, and he has no use for fighting in the wet and coming out of the fight conspicuous as a victor with the curl out of his feathers and his epaulets rusted with the damp. there is no glory in water. but if we had had umbrellas and mackintoshes, as every englishman who comes to the continent always has, and a bath-tub for everybody, then would your waterloo have been different again, and the great democracy of europe with a bonaparte for emperor would have been founded for what the americans call the keeps; and as for your little great britain, ha! she would have become the blackwell's island of the greater france." "you're almost as funny as _punch_ isn't," drawled wellington, with an angry gesture at bonaparte. "you weren't within telephoning distance of victory all day. we simply played with you, my boy. it was a regular game of golf for us. we let you keep up pretty close and win a few holes, but on the home drive we had you beaten in one stroke. go to, my dear bonaparte, and stop talking about the flood." "it's a lucky thing for us that noah wasn't a frenchman, eh?" said frederick the great. "how that rain would have fazed him if he had been! the human race would have been wiped out." "oh, pshaw!" ejaculated noah, deprecating the unseemliness of the quarrel, and putting his arm affectionately about bonaparte's shoulder. "when you come down to that, i was french--as french as one could be in those days--and these gallic subjects of my friend here were, every one of 'em, my lineal descendants, and their hatred of rain was inherited directly from me, their ancestor." "are not we english as much your descendants?" queried wellington, arching his eyebrows. "you are," said noah, "but you take after mrs. noah more than after me. water never fazes a woman, and your delight in tubs is an essentially feminine trait. the first thing mrs. noah carried aboard was a laundry outfit, and then she went back for rugs and coats and all sorts of hand-baggage. gad, it makes me laugh to this day when i think of it! she looked for all the world like an englishman travelling on the continent as she walked up the gang-plank behind the elephants, each elephant with a gladstone bag in his trunk and a hat-box tied to his tail." here the venerable old weather-prophet winked at munchausen, and the little quarrel which had been imminent passed off in a general laugh. "where's boswell? he ought to get that anecdote," said johnson. "i've locked him up in the library," said holmes. "he's in charge of the log, and as i have a pretty good general idea as to what is about to happen, i have mapped out a skeleton of the plot and set him to work writing it up." here the detective gave a sudden start, placed his hand to his ear, listened intently for an instant, and, taking out his watch and glancing at it, added, quietly, "in three minutes shem will be in here to announce a discovery, and one of great importance, i judge, from the squeak." the assemblage gazed earnestly at holmes for a moment. "the squeak?" queried raleigh. "precisely," said holmes. "the squeak is what i said, and as i always say what i mean, it follows logically that i meant what i said." "i heard no squeak," observed dr. johnson; "and, furthermore, i fail to see how a squeak, if i had heard it, would have portended a discovery of importance." "it would not--to you," said holmes; "but with me it is different. my hearing is unusually acute. i can hear the dropping of a pin through a stone wall ten feet thick; any sound within a mile of my eardrum vibrates thereon with an intensity which would surprise you, and it is by the use of cocaine that i have acquired this wonderfully acute sense. a property which dulls the senses of most people renders mine doubly apprehensive; therefore, gentlemen, while to you there was no auricular disturbance, to me there was. i heard shem sliding down the mast a minute since. the fact that he slid down the mast instead of climbing down the rigging showed that he was in great haste, therefore he must have something to communicate of great importance." "why isn't he here already, then? it wouldn't take him two minutes to get from the deck here," asked the ever-suspicious le coq. "it is simple," returned holmes, calmly. "if you will go yourself and slide down that mast you will see. shem has stopped for a little witch-hazel to soothe his burns. it is no cool matter sliding down a mast two hundred feet in height." as sherlock holmes spoke the door burst open and shem rushed in. "a signal of distress, captain!" he cried. "from what quarter--to larboard?" asked holmes. "no," returned shem, breathless. "then it must be dead ahead," said holmes. "why not to starboard?" asked le coq, dryly. "because," answered holmes, confidently, "it never happens so. if you had ever read a truly exciting sea-tale, my dear le coq, you would have known that interesting things, and particularly signals of distress, are never seen except to larboard or dead ahead." a murmur of applause greeted this retort, and le coq subsided. "the nature of the signal?" demanded holmes. "a black flag, skull and cross-bones down, at half-mast!" cried shem, "and on a rock-bound coast!" "they're marooned, by heavens!" shouted holmes, springing to his feet and rushing to the deck, where he was joined immediately by sir walter, dr. johnson, bonaparte, and the others. "isn't he a daisy?" whispered demosthenes to diogenes as they climbed the stairs. "he is more than that; he's a blooming orchid," said diogenes, with intense enthusiasm. "i think i'll get my x-ray lantern and see if he's honest." ix captain kidd meets with an obstacle "excuse me, your majesty," remarked helen of troy as cleopatra accorded permission to captain kidd to speak, "i have not been introduced to this gentleman nor has he been presented to me, and i really cannot consent to any proceeding so irregular as this. i do not speak to gentlemen i have not met, nor do i permit them to address me." "hear, hear!" cried xanthippe. "i quite agree with the principle of my young friend from troy. it may be that when we claimed for ourselves all the rights of men that the right to speak and be spoken to by other men without an introduction was included in the list, but i for one have no desire to avail myself of the privilege, especially when it's a horrid-looking man like this." kidd bowed politely, and smiled so terribly that several of the ladies fainted. "i will withdraw," he said, turning to cleopatra; and it must be said that his suggestion was prompted by his heartfelt wish, for now that he found himself thus conspicuously brought before so many women, with falsehood on his lips, his courage began to ooze. "not yet, please," answered the chair-lady. "i imagine we can get about this difficulty without much trouble." "i think it a perfectly proper objection too," observed delilah, rising. "if we ever needed etiquette we need it now. but i have a plan which will obviate any further difficulty. if there is no one among us who is sufficiently well acquainted with the gentleman to present him formally to us, i will for the time being take upon myself the office of ship's barber and cut his hair. i understand that it is quite the proper thing for barbers to talk, while cutting their hair, to persons to whom they have not been introduced. and, besides, he really needs a hair-cut badly. thus i shall establish an acquaintance with the captain, after which i can with propriety introduce him to the rest of you." "perhaps the gentleman himself might object to that," put in queen elizabeth. "if i remember rightly, your last customer was very much dissatisfied with the trim you gave him." "it will be unnecessary to do what delilah proposes," said mrs. noah, with a kindly smile, as she rose up from the corner in which she had been sitting, an interested listener. "i can introduce the gentleman to you all with perfect propriety. he's a member of my family. his grandfather was the great-grandson a thousand and eight times removed of my son shem's great-grandnephew on his father's side. his relationship to me is therefore obvious, though from what i know of his reputation i think he takes more after my husband's ancestors than my own. willie, dear, these ladies are friends of mine. ladies, this young man is one of my most famous descendants. he has been a man of many adventures, and he has been hanged once, which, far from making him undesirable as an acquaintance, has served merely to render him harmless, and therefore a safe person to know. now, my son, go ahead and speak your piece." the good old spirit sat down, and the scruples of the objectors having thus been satisfied, captain kidd began. "now that i know you all," he remarked, as pleasantly as he could under the circumstances, "i feel that i can speak more freely, and certainly with a great deal less embarrassment than if i were addressing a gathering of entire strangers. i am not much of a hand at speaking, and have always felt somewhat nonplussed at finding myself in a position of this nature. in my whole career i never experienced but one irresistible impulse to make a public address of any length, and that was upon that unhappy occasion to which the greatest and grandest of my great-grandmothers has alluded, and that only as the chain by which i was suspended in mid-air tightened about my vocal chords. at that moment i could have talked impromptu for a year, so fast and numerously did thoughts of the uttermost import surge upward into my brain; but circumstances over which i had no control prevented the utterance of those thoughts, and that speech is therefore lost to the world." "he has the gift of continuity," observed madame récamier. "ought to be in the united states senate," smiled elizabeth. "i wish i could make up my mind as to whether he is outrageously handsome or desperately ugly," remarked helen of troy. "he fascinates me, but whether it is the fascination of liking or of horror i can't tell, and it's quite important." "ladies," resumed the captain, his uneasiness increasing as he came to the point, "i am but the agent of your respective husbands, _fiancés_, and other masculine guardians. the gentlemen who were previously the tenants of this club-house have delegated to me the important, and i may add highly agreeable, task of showing you the world. they have noted of late years the growth of that feeling of unrest which is becoming every day more and more conspicuous in feminine circles in all parts of the universe--on the earth, where women are clamoring to vote, and to be allowed to go out late at night without an escort; in hades, where, as you are no doubt aware, the management of the government has fallen almost wholly into the hands of the furies; and even in the halls of jupiter himself, where, i am credibly informed, juno has been taking private lessons in the art of hurling thunderbolts--information which the extraordinary quality of recent electrical storms on the earth would seem to confirm. thunderbolts of late years have been cast hither and yon in a most erratic fashion, striking where they were least expected, as those of you who keep in touch with the outer world must be fully aware. now, actuated by their usual broad and liberal motives, the men of hades wish to meet the views of you ladies to just that extent that your views are based upon a wise selection, in turn based upon experience, and they have come to me and in so many words have said, 'mr. kidd, we wish the women of hades to see the world. we want them to be satisfied. we do not like this constantly increasing spirit of unrest. we, who have seen all the life that we care to see, do not ourselves feel equal to the task of showing them about. we will pay you liberally if you will take our house-boat, which they have always been anxious to enter, and personally conduct our beloved ones to paris, london, and elsewhere. let them see as much of life as they can stand. accord them every privilege. spare no expense; only bring them back again to us safe and sound.' these were their words, ladies. i asked them why they didn't come along themselves, saying that even if they were tired of it all, they should make some personal sacrifice to your comfort; and they answered, reasonably and well, that they would be only too glad to do so, but that they feared they might unconsciously seem to exert a repressing influence upon you. 'we want them to feel absolutely free, captain kidd,' said they, 'and if we are along they may not feel so.' the answer was convincing, ladies, and i accepted the commission." "but we knew nothing of all this," interposed elizabeth. "the subject was not broached to us by our husbands, brothers, _fiancés_, or fathers. my brother, sir walter raleigh--" cleopatra chuckled. "brother! brother's good," she said. "well, that's what he is," retorted elizabeth, quickly. "i promised to be a sister to him, and i'm going to keep my word. that's the kind of a queen i am. i was about to remark," elizabeth added, turning to the captain, "that my brother, sir walter raleigh, never even hinted at any such plan, and usually he asked my advice in matters of so great importance." "that is easily accounted for, madame," retorted kidd. "sir walter intended this as a little surprise for you, that is all. the arrangements were all placed in his hands, and it was he who bound us all to secrecy. none of the ladies were to be informed of it." "it does not sound altogether plausible," interposed portia. "if you ladies do not object, i should like to cross-examine this--ah--gentleman." kidd paled visibly. he was not prepared for any such trial; however, he put as good a face on the matter as he could, and announced his willingness to answer any questions that he might be asked. [illustration: captain kidd consents to be cross-examined by portia] "shall we put him under oath?" asked cleopatra. "as you please, ladies," said the pirate. "a pirate's word is as good as his bond; but i'll take an oath if you choose--a half-dozen of 'em, if need be." "i fancy we can get along without that," said portia. "now, captain kidd, who first proposed this plan?" "socrates," said kidd, unblushingly, with a sly glance at xanthippe. "what?" cried xanthippe. "my husband propose anything that would contribute to my pleasure or intellectual advancement? bah! your story is transparently false at the outset." "nevertheless," said kidd, "the scheme was proposed by socrates. he said a trip of that kind for xanthippe would be very restful and health-giving." "for me?" cried xanthippe, sceptically. "no, madame, for him," retorted kidd. "ah--ho-ho! that's the way of it, eh?" said xanthippe, flushing to the roots of her hair. "very likely. you--ah--you will excuse my doubting your word, captain kidd, a moment since. i withdraw my remark, and in order to make fullest reparation, i beg to assure these ladies that i am now perfectly convinced that you are telling the truth. that last observation is just like my husband, and when i get back home again, if i ever do, well--ha, ha!--we'll have a merry time, that's all." "and what was--ah--bassanio's connection with this affair?" added portia, hesitatingly. "he was not informed of it," said kidd, archly. "i am not acquainted with bassanio, my lady, but i overheard sir walter enjoining upon the others the absolute necessity of keeping the whole affair from bassanio, because he was afraid he would not consent to it. 'bassanio has a most beautiful wife, gentlemen,' said sir walter, 'and he wouldn't think of parting with her under any circumstances; therefore let us keep our intentions a secret from him.' i did not hear whom the gentleman married, madame; but the others, prince hamlet, the duke of buckingham, and louis the fourteenth, all agreed that mrs. bassanio was too beautiful a person to be separated from, and that it was better, therefore, to keep bassanio in the dark as to their little enterprise until it was too late for him to interfere." a pink glow of pleasure suffused the lovely countenance of the cross-examiner, and it did not require a very sharp eye to see that the wily kidd had completely won her over to his side. on the other hand, elizabeth's brow became as corrugated as her ruff, and the spirit of the pirate shivered to the core as he turned and gazed upon that glowering face. "sir walter agreed to that, did he?" snapped elizabeth. "and yet he was willing to part with--ah--his sister." "well, your majesty," began kidd, hesitatingly, "you see it was this way: sir walter--er--did say that, but--ah--he--ah--but he added that he of course merely judged--er--this man bassanio's feelings by his own in parting from his sister--" "did he say sister?" cried elizabeth. "well--no--not in those words," shuffled kidd, perceiving quickly wherein his error lay, "but--ah--i jumped at the conclusion, seeing his intense enthusiasm for the lady's beauty and--er--intellectual qualities, that he referred to you, and it is from yourself that i have gained my knowledge as to the fraternal, not to say sororal, relationship that exists between you." "that man's a diplomat from diplomaville!" muttered sir henry morgan, who, with abeuchapeta and conrad, was listening at the port without. "he is that," said abeuchapeta, "but he can't last much longer. he's perspiring like a pitcher of ice-water on a hot day, and a spirit of his size and volatile nature can't stand much of that without evaporating. if you will observe him closely you will see that his left arm already has vanished into thin air." "by jove!" whispered conrad, "that's a fact! if they don't let up on him he'll vanish. he's getting excessively tenuous about the top of his head." all of which was only too true. subjected to a scrutiny which he had little expected, the deceitful ambassador of the thieving band was rapidly dissipating, and, as those without had so fearsomely noted, was in imminent danger of complete sublimation, which, in the case of one possessed of so little elementary purity, meant nothing short of annihilation. fortunately for kidd, however, his wonderful tact had stemmed the tide of suspicion. elizabeth was satisfied with his explanation, and in the minds of at least three of the most influential ladies on board, portia, xanthippe, and elizabeth, he had become a creature worthy of credence, which meant that he had nothing more to fear. "i am prepared, your majesty," said elizabeth, addressing cleopatra, "to accept from this time on the gentleman's word. the little that he has already told us is hall-marked with truth. i should like to ask, however, one more question, and that is how our gentleman friends expected to embark us upon this voyage without letting us into the secret?" "oh, as for that," replied kidd, with a deep-drawn sigh of relief, for he too had noticed the gradual evaporation of his arm and the incipient etherization of his cranium--"as for that, it was simple enough. there was to have been a day set apart for ladies' day at the club, and when you were all on board we were quietly to weigh anchor and start. the fact that you had anticipated the day, of your own volition, was telephoned by my scouts to me at my headquarters, and that news was by me transmitted by messenger to sir walter at charon's glen island, where the long-talked-of fight between samson and goliath was taking place. raleigh immediately replied, '_good! start at once. paris first. unlimited credit. love to elizabeth._' wherefore, ladies," he added, rising from his chair and walking to the door--"wherefore you are here and in my care. make yourselves comfortable, and with the aid of the fashion papers which you have already received prepare yourselves for the joys that await you. with the aid of madame récamier and baedeker's _paris_, which you will find in the library, it will be your own fault if when you arrive there you resemble a great many less fortunate women who don't know what they want." with these words kidd disappeared through the door, and fainted in the arms of sir henry morgan. the strain upon him had been too great. "a charming fellow," said portia, as the pirate disappeared. "most attractive," said elizabeth. "handsome, too, don't you think?" asked helen of troy. "and truthful beyond peradventure," observed xanthippe, as she reflected upon the words the captain had attributed to socrates. "i didn't believe him at first, but when he told me what my sweet-tempered philosopher had said, i was convinced." "he's a sweet child," interposed mrs. noah, fondly. "one of my favorite grandchildren." "which makes it embarrassing for me to say," cried cassandra, starting up angrily, "that he is a base caitiff!" had a bomb been dropped in the middle of the room, it could not have created a greater sensation than the words of cassandra. "what?" cried several voices at once. "a caitiff?" "a caitiff with a capital k," retorted cassandra. "i know that, because while he was telling his story i was listening to it with one ear and looking forward into the middle of next week with the other--i mean the other eye--and i saw--" "yes, you saw?" cried cleopatra. "i saw that he was deceiving us. mark my words, ladies, he is a base caitiff," replied cassandra--"a base caitiff." "what did you see?" cried elizabeth, excitedly. "this," said cassandra, and she began a narration of future events which i must defer to the next chapter. meanwhile his associates were endeavoring to restore the evaporated portions of the prostrated kidd's spirit anatomy by the use of a steam-atomizer, but with indifferent success. kidd's training had not fitted him for an intellectual combat with superior women, and he suffered accordingly. [illustration: kidd's companions endeavoring to restore evaporated portions of his anatomy with a steam-atomizer] x a warning accepted "it is with no desire to interrupt my friend cassandra unnecessarily," said mrs. noah, as the prophetess was about to narrate her story, "that i rise to beg her to remember that, as an ancestress of captain kidd, i hope she will spare a grandmother's feelings, if anything in the story she is about to tell is improper to be placed before the young. i have been so shocked by the stories of perfidy and baseness generally that have been published of late years, that i would interpose a protest while there is yet time if there is a line in cassandra's story which ought to be withheld from the public; a protest based upon my affection for posterity, and in the interests of morality everywhere." "you may rest easy upon that score, my dear mrs. noah," said the prophetess. "what i have to say would commend itself, i am sure, even to the ears of a british matron; and while it is as complete a demonstration of man's perfidy as ever was, it is none the less as harmless a little tale as the dottie dimple books or any other more recent study of new england character." "thank you for the load your words have lifted from my mind," said mrs. noah, settling back in her chair, a satisfied expression upon her gentle countenance. "i hope you will understand why i spoke, and withal why modern literature generally has been so distressful to me. when you reflect that the world is satisfied that most of man's criminal instincts are the result of heredity, and that mr. noah and i are unable to shift the responsibility for posterity to other shoulders than our own, you will understand my position. we were about the most domestic old couple that ever lived, and when we see the long and varied assortment of crimes that are cropping out everywhere in our descendants it is painful to us to realize what a pair of unconsciously wicked old fogies we must have been." "we all understand that," said cleopatra, kindly; "and we are all prepared to acquit you of any responsibility for the advanced condition of wickedness to-day. man has progressed since your time, my dear grandma, and the modern improvements in the science of crime are no more attributable to you than the invention of the telephone or the oyster cocktail is attributable to your lord and master." "thank you kindly," murmured the old lady, and she resumed her knitting upon a phantom tam-o'-shanter, which she was making as a christmas surprise for her husband. "when captain kidd began his story," said cassandra, "he made one very bad mistake, and yet one which was prompted by that courtesy which all men instinctively adopt when addressing women. when he entered the room he removed his hat, and therein lay his fatal error, if he wished to convince me of the truth of his story, for with his hat removed i could see the workings of his mind. while you ladies were watching his lips or his eyes, some of you taking in the gorgeous details of his dress, all of you hanging upon his every word, i kept my eye fixed firmly upon his imagination, and i saw, what you did not, _that he was drawing wholly upon that_!" "how extraordinary!" cried elizabeth. "yes--and fortunate," said cassandra. "had i not done so, a week hence we should, every one of us, have been lost in the surging wickedness of the city of paris." "but, cassandra," said trilby, who was anxious to return once more to the beautiful city by the seine, "he told us we were going to paris." [illustration: "'he told us we were going to paris'"] "of course he did," said madame récamier, "and in so many words. certainly he was not drawing upon his imagination there." "and one might be lost in a very much worse place," put in marguerite de valois, "if, indeed, it were possible to lose us in paris at all. i fancy that i know enough about paris to find my way about." "humph!" ejaculated cassandra. "what a foolish little thing you are! you don't imagine that the paris of to-day is the paris of your time, or even the paris of that sweet child trilby's time, do you? if you do you are very much mistaken. i almost wish i had not warned you of your danger and had let you go, just to see those eyes of yours open with amazement at the change. you'd find your louvre a very different sort of a place from what it used to be, my dear lady. those pleasing little windows through which your relations were wont in olden times to indulge in target practice at people who didn't go to their church are now kept closed; the galleries which used to swarm with people, many of whom ought to have been hanged, now swarm with pictures, many of which ought not to have been hung; the romance which clung about its walls is as much a part of the dead past as yourselves, and were you to materialize suddenly therein you would find yourselves jostled and hustled and trodden upon by the curious from other lands, with argus eyes taking in five hundred pictures a minute, and traversing those halls at a rate of speed at which mercury himself would stand aghast." "but my beloved tuileries?" cried marie antoinette. "has been swallowed up by a play-ground for the people, my dear," said cassandra, gently. "paris is no place for us, and it is the intention of these men, in whose hands we are, to take us there and then desert us. can you imagine anything worse than ourselves, the phantoms of a glorious romantic past, basely deserted in the streets of a wholly strange, superficial, material city of to-day? what do you think, elizabeth, would be your fate if, faint and famished, you begged for sustenance at an english door to-day, and when asked your name and profession were to reply, 'elizabeth, queen of england'?" "insane asylum," said elizabeth, shortly. "precisely. so in paris with the rest of us," said cassandra. "how do you know all this?" asked trilby, still unconvinced. "i know it just as you knew how to become a prima donna," said cassandra. "i am, however, my own svengali, which is rather preferable to the patent detachable hypnotizer you had. i hypnotize myself, and direct my mind into the future. i was a professional forecaster in the days of ancient troy, and if my revelations had been heeded the priam family would, i doubt not, still be doing business at the old stand, and mr. Æneas would not have grown round-shouldered giving his poor father a picky-back ride on the opening night of the horse-show, so graphically depicted by virgil." "i never heard about that," said trilby. "it sounds like a very funny story, though." "well, it wasn't so humorous for some as it was for others," said cassandra, with a sly glance at helen. "the fact is, until you mentioned it yourself, it never occurred to me that there was much fun in any portion of the trojan incident, excepting perhaps the delirium tremens of old laocoon, who got no more than he deserved for stealing my thunder. i had warned troy against the greeks, and they all laughed at me, and said my eye to the future was strabismatic; that the greeks couldn't get into troy at all, even if they wanted to. and then the greeks made a great wooden horse as a gift for the trojans, and when i turned my x-ray gaze upon it i saw that it contained about six brigades of infantry, three artillery regiments, and sharp-shooters by the score. it was a sort of military noah's ark; but i knew that the prejudice against me was so strong that nobody would believe what i told them. so i said nothing. my prophecies never came true, they said, failing to observe that my warning as to what would be was in itself the cause of their non-fulfilment. but desiring to save troy, i sent for laocoon and told him all about it, and he went out and announced it as his own private prophecy; and then, having tried to drown his conscience in strong waters, he fell a victim to the usual serpentine hallucination, and everybody said he wasn't sober, and therefore unworthy of belief. the horse was accepted, hauled into the city, and that night orders came from hindquarters to the regiments concealed inside to march. they marched, and next morning troy had been removed from the map; ninety per cent. of the trojans died suddenly, and Æneas, grabbing up his family in one hand and his gods in the other, went yachting for several seasons, ultimately settling down in italy. all of this could have been avoided if the trojans would have taken the hint from my prophecies. they preferred, however, not to do it, with the result that to-day no one but helen and myself knows even where troy was, and we'll never tell." "it is all true," said helen, proudly. "i was the woman who was at the bottom of it all, and i can testify that cassandra always told the truth, which is why she was always so unpopular. when anything that was unpleasant happened, after it was all over she would turn and say, sweetly, 'i told you so.' she was the original 'i told you so' nuisance, and of course she had the newspapyruses down on her, because she never left them any sensation to spring upon the public. if she had only told a fib once in a while, the public would have had more confidence in her." "thank you for your endorsement," said cassandra, with a nod at helen. "with such testimony i cannot see how you can refrain from taking my advice in this matter; and i tell you, ladies, that this man kidd has made his story up out of whole cloth; the men of hades had no more to do with our being here than we had; they were as much surprised as we are to find us gone. kidd himself was not aware of our presence, and his object in taking us to paris is to leave us stranded there, disembodied spirits, vagrant souls with no familiar haunts to haunt, no place to rest, and nothing before us save perpetual exile in a world that would have no sympathy for us in our misfortune, and no belief in our continued existence." "but what, then, shall we do?" cried ophelia, wringing her hands in despair. "it is a terrible problem," said cleopatra, anxiously; "and yet it does seem as if our woman's instinct ought to show us some way out of our trouble." "the committee on treachery," said delilah, "has already suggested a chafing-dish party, with lucretia borgia in charge of the lobster newberg." "that is true," said lucretia; "but i find, in going through my reticule, that my maid, for some reason unknown to me, has failed to renew my supply of poisons. i shall discharge her on my return home, for she knows that i never go anywhere without them; but that does not help matters at this juncture. the sad fact remains that i could prepare a thousand delicacies for these pirates without fatal results." "you mean immediately fatal, do you not?" suggested xanthippe. "i could myself prepare a cake which would in time reduce our captors to a state of absolute dependence, but of course the effect is not immediate." "we might give a musicale, and let trilby sing 'ben bolt' to them," suggested marguerite de valois, with a giggle. "don't be flippant, please," said portia. "we haven't time to waste on flippant suggestions. perhaps a court-martial of these pirates, supplemented by a yard-arm, wouldn't be a bad thing. i'll prosecute the case." "you forget that you are dealing with immortal spirits," observed cleopatra. "if these creatures were mortals, hanging them would be all right, and comparatively easy, considering that we outnumber them ten to one, and have many resources for getting them, more or less, in our power, but they are not. they have gone through the refining process of dissolution once, and there's an end to that. our only resource is in the line of deception, and if we cannot deceive them, then we have ceased to be women." "that is truly said," observed elizabeth. "and inasmuch as we have already provided ourselves with a suitable committee for the preparation of our plans of a deceptive nature, i move, as the easiest possible solution of the difficulty for the rest of us, that the committee on treachery be requested to go at once into executive session, with orders not to come out of it until they have suggested a plausible plan of campaign against our abductors. we must be rid of them. let the committee on treachery say how." "second the motion," said mrs. noah. "you are a very clear-headed young woman, lizzie, and your grandmother is proud of you." [illustration: "'you are a very clear-headed young woman, lizzie,' said mrs. noah"] the committee on treachery were about to protest, but the chair refused to entertain any debate upon the question, which was put and carried with a storm of approval. five minutes later a note was handed through the port, addressed to cleopatra, which read as follows: "dear madame,--six bells has just struck, and the officers and crew are hungry. will you and your fair companions co-operate with us in our enterprise by having a hearty dinner ready within two hours? a speck has appeared on the horizon which betokens a coming storm, else we would prepare our supper ourselves. as it is, we feel that your safety depends on our remaining on deck. if there is any beer on the ice, we prefer it to tea. two cases will suffice. "yours respectfully, "henry morgan, bart., first mate." "hurrah!" cried cleopatra, as she read this communication. "i have an idea. tell the committee on treachery to appear before the full meeting at once." the committee was summoned, and cleopatra announced her plan of operation, and it was unanimously adopted; but what it was we shall have to wait for another chapter to learn. xi marooned when captain holmes arrived upon deck he seized his glass, and, gazing intently through it for a moment, perceived that the faithful shem had not deceived him. flying at half-mast from a rude, roughly hewn pole set upon a rocky height was the black flag, emblem of piracy, and, as artemus ward put it, "with the second joints reversed." it was in very truth a signal of distress. "i make it a point never to be surprised," observed holmes, as he peered through the glass, "but this beats me. i didn't know there was an island of this nature in these latitudes. blackstone, go below and pipe captain cook on deck. perhaps he knows what island that is." "you'll have to excuse me, captain holmes," replied the judge. "i didn't ship on this voyage as a cabin-boy or a messenger-boy. therefore i--" "bonaparte, put the judge in irons," interrupted holmes, sternly. "i expect to be obeyed, judge blackstone, whether you shipped as a lord chief-justice or a state-room steward. when i issue an order it must be obeyed. step lively there, bonaparte. get his honor ironed and summon your marines. we may have work to do before night. hamlet, pipe captain cook on deck." "aye, aye, sir," replied hamlet, with alacrity, as he made off. "that's the way to obey orders," said holmes, with a scornful glance at blackstone. "i was only jesting, captain," said the latter, paling somewhat. "that's all right," said holmes, taking up his glass again. "so was i when i ordered you in irons, and in order that you may appreciate the full force of the joke i repeat it. bonaparte, do your duty." in an instant the order was obeyed, and the unhappy judge shortly found himself manacled and alone in the forecastle. meanwhile captain cook, in response to the commander's order, repaired to the deck and scanned the distant coast. "i can't place it," he said. "it can't be monte cristo, can it?" "no, it can't," said the count, who stood hard by. "my island was in the mediterranean, and even if it dragged anchor it couldn't have got out through the strait of gibraltar." "perhaps it's robinson crusoe's island," suggested doctor johnson. "not it," observed de foe. "if it is, the rest of you will please keep off. it's mine, and i may want to use it again. i've been having a number of interviews with crusoe latterly, and he's given me a lot of new points, which i intend incorporating in a sequel for the _cimmerian magazine_." "well, in the name of atlas, what island is it, then?" roared holmes, angrily. "what is the matter with all you learned lubbers that i have brought along on this trip? do you suppose i've brought you to whistle up favorable winds? not by the beard of the prophet! i brought you to give me information, and now when i ask for the name of a simple little island like that in plain sight there's not one of you able so much as to guess at it reasonably. the next man i ask for information goes into irons with judge blackstone if he doesn't answer me instantly with the information i want. munchausen, what island is that?" "ahem! that?" replied munchausen, trembling, as he reflected upon the captain's threat. "what? nobody knows what island that is? why, you surprise me--" "see here, baron," retorted holmes, menacingly, "i ask you a plain question, and i want a plain answer, with no evasions to gain time. now it's irons or an answer. what island is that?" "it's an island that doesn't appear on any chart, captain," munchausen responded instantly, pulling himself together for a mighty effort, "and it has never been given a name; but as you insist upon having one, we'll call it holmes island, in your honor. it is not stationary. it is a floating island of lava formation, and is a menace to every craft that goes to sea. i spent a year of my life upon it once, and it is more barren than the desert of sahara, because you cannot raise even sand upon it, and it is devoid of water of any sort, salt or fresh." "what did you live on during that year?" asked holmes, eying him narrowly. "canned food from wrecks," replied the baron, feeling much easier now that he had got a fair start--"canned food from wrecks, commander. there is a magnetic property in the upper stratum of this piece of derelict real estate, sir, which attracts to it every bit of canned substance that is lost overboard in all parts of the world. a ship is wrecked, say, in the pacific ocean, and ultimately all the loose metal upon her will succumb to the irresistible attraction of this magnetic upper stratum, and will find its way to its shores. so in any other part of the earth. everything metallic turns up here sooner or later; and when you consider that thousands of vessels go down every year, vessels which are provisioned with tinned foods only, you will begin to comprehend how many millions of pounds of preserved salmon, sardines, _pâté de foie gras_, peaches, and so on, can be found strewn along its coast." "munchausen," said holmes, smiling, "by the blush upon your cheek, coupled with an occasional uneasy glance of the eye, i know that for once you are standing upon the, to you, unfamiliar ground of truth, and i admire you for it. there is nothing to be ashamed of in telling the truth occasionally. you are a man after my own heart. come below and have a cocktail. captain cook, take command of the _gehenna_ during my absence; head her straight for holmes island, and when you discover anything new let me know. bonaparte, in honor of munchausen's remarkable genius i proclaim general amnesty to our prisoners, and you may release blackstone from his dilemma; and if you have any tin soldiers among your marines, see that they are lashed to the rigging. i don't want this electric island of the baron's to get a grip upon my military force at this juncture." with this holmes, followed by munchausen, went below, and the two worthies were soon deep in the mysteries of a phantom cocktail, while doctor johnson and de foe gazed mournfully out over the ocean at the floating island. "de foe," said johnson, "that ought to be a lesson to you. this realism that you tie up to is all right when you are alone with your conscience; but when there are great things afoot, an imagination and a broad view as to the limitations of truth aren't at all bad. you or i might now be drinking that cocktail with holmes if we'd only risen to the opportunity the way munchausen did." [illustration: "'that ought to be a lesson to you'"] "that is true," said de foe, sadly. "but i didn't suppose he wanted that kind of information. i could have spun a better yarn than that of munchausen's with my eyes shut. i supposed he wanted truth, and i gave it." "i'd like to know what has become of the house-boat," said raleigh, anxiously gazing through the glass at the island. "i can see old henry morgan sitting down there on the rocks with his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, and kidd and abeuchapeta are standing back of him, yelling like mad, but there isn't a boat in sight." "who is that man, off to the right, dancing a fandango?" asked johnson. "it looks like conrad, but i can't tell. he appears to have gone crazy. he's got that wild look on his face which betokens insanity. we'll have to be careful in our parleyings with these people," said raleigh. "anything new?" asked holmes, returning to the deck, smacking his lips in enjoyment of the cocktail. "no--except that we are almost within hailing distance," said cook. "then give orders to cast anchor," observed holmes. "bonaparte, take a crew of picked men ashore and bring those pirates aboard. take the three musketeers with you, and don't let kidd or morgan give you any back talk. if they try any funny business, exorcise them." "aye, aye, sir," replied bonaparte, and in a moment a boat had been lowered and a sturdy crew of sailors were pulling for the shore. as they came within ten feet of it the pirates made a mad dash down the rough, rocky hillside and clamored to be saved. [illustration: "the pirates made a mad dash down the rough, rocky hill-side"] "what's happened to you?" cried bonaparte, ordering the sailors to back water, lest the pirates should too hastily board the boat and swamp her. "we are marooned," replied kidd, "and on an island of a volcanic nature. there isn't a square inch of it that isn't heated up to degrees, and seventeen of us have already evaporated. conrad has lost his reason; abeuchapeta has become so tenuous that a child can see through him. as for myself, i am growing iridescent with anxiety, and unless i get off this infernal furnace i'll disappear like a soap-bubble. for heaven's sake, then, general, take us off, on your own terms. we'll accept anything." as if in confirmation of kidd's words, six of the pirate crew collapsed and disappeared into thin air, and a glance at abeuchapeta was proof enough of his condition. he had become as clear as crystal, and had it not been for his rugged outlines he would hardly have been visible even to his fellow-spirits. as for kidd, he had taken on the aspect of a rainbow, and it was patent that his fears for himself were all too well founded. bonaparte embarked the leaders of the band first, returning subsequently for the others, and repaired with them at once to the _gehenna_, where they were ushered into the presence of sherlock holmes. the first question he asked was as to the whereabouts of the house-boat. "that we do not know," replied kidd, mournfully, gazing downward at the wreck of his former self. "we came ashore, sir, early yesterday morning, in search of food. it appears that when--acting in a wholly inexcusable fashion, and influenced, i confess it, by motives of revenge--i made off with your club-house, i neglected to ascertain if it were well stocked with provisions, a fatal error; for when we endeavored to get supper we discovered that the larder contained but half a bottle of farcie olives, two salted almonds, and a soda cracker--not a luxurious feast for sixty-nine pirates and a hundred and eighty-three women to sit down to." "that's all nonsense," said demosthenes. "the house committee had provided enough supper for six hundred people, in anticipation of the appetite of the members on their return from the fight." "of course they did," said confucius; "and it was a good one, too--salads, salmon glacé, lobsters--every blessed thing a man can't get at home we had; and what is more, they'd been delivered on board. i saw to that before i went up the river." "then," moaned kidd, "it is as i suspected. we were the victims of base treachery on the part of those women." "treachery? well, i like that. call it reciprocity," said hamlet, dryly. "we were informed by the ladies that there was nothing for supper save the items i have already referred to," said kidd. "i see it all now. we had tried to make them comfortable, and i put myself to some considerable personal inconvenience to make them easy in their minds, but they were ungrateful." "whatever induced you to take 'em along with you?" asked socrates. "we didn't want them," said kidd. "we didn't know they were on board until it was too late to turn back. they'd broken in, and were having the club all to themselves in your absence." "it served you good and right," said socrates, with a laugh. "next time you try to take things that don't belong to you, maybe you'll be a trifle more careful as to whose property you confiscate." "but the house-boat--you haven't told us how you lost her," put in raleigh, impatiently. "well, it was this way," said kidd. "when, in response to our polite request for supper, the ladies said there was nothing to eat on board, something had to be done, for we were all as hungry as bears, and we decided to go ashore at the first port and provision. unfortunately the crew got restive, and when this floating frying-pan loomed into view, to keep them good-natured we decided to land and see if we could beg, borrow, or steal some supplies. we had to. observations taken with the sextant showed that there was no port within five hundred miles; the island looked as if it might be inhabited at least by goats, and ashore we went, every man of us, leaving the house-boat safely anchored in the harbor. at first we didn't mind the heat, and we hunted and hunted and hunted; but after three or four hours i began to notice that three of my sailors were shrivelling up, and conrad began to act as if he were daft. hawkins burst right before my eyes. then abeuchapeta got prismatic around the eyes and began to fade, and i noticed a slight iridescence about myself; and as for morgan, he had the misfortune to lie down to take a nap in the sun, and when he waked up, his whole right side had evaporated. then we saw what the trouble was. we'd struck this lava island, and were gradually succumbing to its intense heat. we rushed madly back to the harbor to embark; and our ship, gentlemen, and your house-boat, was slowly but surely disappearing over the horizon, and flying from the flag-staff at the fore were signals of farewell, with an unfeeling p.s. below to this effect: '_don't wait up for us. we may not be back until late._'" there was a pause, during which socrates laughed quietly to himself, while abeuchapeta and the one-sided morgan wept silently. "that, gentlemen of the associated shades, is all i know of the whereabouts of the house-boat," continued captain kidd. "i have no doubt that the ladies practised a deception, to our discomfiture, and i must say that i think it was exceedingly clever--granting that it was desirable to be rid of us, which i don't, for we meant well by them, and they would have enjoyed themselves." "but," cried hamlet, "may they not now be in peril? they cannot navigate that ship." "they got her out of the harbor all right," said kidd. "and i judged from the figure at the helm that mrs. noah had taken charge. what kind of a seaman she is i don't know." "almighty bad," ejaculated shem, turning pale. "it was she who ran us ashore on ararat." "well, wasn't that what you wanted?" queried munchausen. "what we wanted!" cried shem. "well, i guess not. you don't want your yacht stranded on a mountain-top, do you? she was a dead loss there, whereas if mother hadn't been in such a hurry to get ashore, we could have waited a month and landed on the seaboard." "you might have turned her into a summer hotel," suggested munchausen. "well, we must up anchor and away," said holmes. "our pursuit has merely begun, apparently. we must overtake this vessel, and the question to be answered is--where?" "that's easy," said artemus ward. "from what shem says, i think we'd better look for her in the himalayas." "and, meanwhile, what shall be done with kidd?" asked holmes. "he ought to be expelled from the club," said johnson. "we can't expel him, because he's not a member," replied raleigh. "then elect him," suggested ward. "what on earth for?" growled johnson. "so that we can expel him," said ward. and while boswell's hero was trying to get the value of this notion through his head, the others repaired to the deck, and the _gehenna_ was soon under way once more. meanwhile captain kidd and his fellows were put in irons and stowed away in the forecastle, alongside of the water-cask in which shylock lay in hiding. xii the escape and the end if there was anxiety on board of the _gehenna_ as to the condition and whereabouts of the house-boat, there was by no means less uneasiness upon that vessel itself. cleopatra's scheme for ridding herself and her abducted sisters of the pirates had worked to a charm, but, having worked thus, a new and hitherto undreamed-of problem, full of perplexities bearing upon their immediate safety, now confronted them. the sole representative of a sea-faring family on board was mrs. noah, and it did not require much time to see that her knowledge as to navigation was of an extremely primitive order, limited indeed to the science of floating. when the last pirate had disappeared behind the rocks of holmes island, and all was in readiness for action, the good old lady, who had hitherto been as calm and unruffled as a child, began to get red in the face and to bustle about in a manner which betrayed considerable perturbation of spirit. "now, mrs. noah," said cleopatra, as, peeping out from the billiard-room window, she saw morgan disappearing in the distance, "the coast is clear, and i resign my position of chairman to you. we place the vessel in your hands, and ourselves subject to your orders. you are in command. what do you wish us to do?" "very well," replied mrs. noah, putting down her knitting and starting for the deck. "i'm not certain, but i think the first thing to do is to get her moving. do you know, i've never discovered whether this boat is a steamboat or a sailing-vessel? does anybody know?" "i think it has a naphtha tank and a propeller," said elizabeth, "although i don't know. it seems to me my brother raleigh told me they'd had a naphtha engine put in last winter after the freshet, when the house-boat was carried ten miles down the river, and had to be towed back at enormous expense. they put it in so that if she were carried away again she could get back of her own power." "that's unfortunate," said mrs. noah, "because i don't know anything about these new fangled notions. if there's any one here who knows anything about naphtha engines, i wish they'd speak." "i'm of the opinion," said portia, "that i can study out the theory of it in a short while." "very well, then," said mrs. noah, "you can do it. i'll appoint you engineer, and give you all your orders now, right away, in advance. set her going and keep her going, and don't stop without a written order signed by me. we might as well be very careful, and have everything done properly, and it might happen that in the excitement of our trip you would misunderstand my spoken orders and make a fatal error. therefore, pay no attention to unwritten orders. that will do for you for the present. xanthippe, you may take ophelia and madame récamier, and ten other ladies, and, every morning before breakfast, swab the larboard deck. cassandra, tuesdays you will devote to polishing the brasses in the dining-room, and the balance of your time i wish you to expend in dusting the bric-a-brac. dido, you always were strong at building fires. i'll make you chief stoker. you will also assist lucretia borgia in the kitchen. inasmuch as the latter's maid has neglected to supply her with the usual line of poisons, i think we can safely entrust to lucretia's hands the responsibilities of the culinary department." "i'm perfectly willing to do anything i can," said lucretia, "but i must confess that i don't approve of your methods of commanding a ship. a ship's captain isn't a domestic martinet, as you are setting out to be. we didn't appoint you housekeeper." "now, my child," said mrs. noah, firmly, "i do not wish any words. if i hear any more impudence from you, i'll put you ashore without a reference; and the rest of you i would warn in all kindness that i will not tolerate insubordination. you may, all of you, have one night of the week and alternate sundays off, but your work must be done. the regimen i am adopting is precisely that in vogue on the ark, only i didn't have the help i have now, and things got into very bad shape. we were out forty days, and, while the food was poor and the service execrable, we never lost a life." [illustration: "'now, my child,' said mrs. noah, firmly, 'i do not wish any words'"] the boat gave a slight tremor. "hurrah," cried elizabeth, clapping her hands with glee, "we are off!" "i will repair to the deck and get our bearings," said mrs. noah, putting her shawl over her shoulders. "meantime, cleopatra, i appoint you first mate. see that things are tidied up a bit here before i return. have the windows washed, and to-morrow i want all the rugs and carpets taken up and shaken." portia meanwhile had discovered the naphtha engine, and, after experimenting several times with the various levers and stop-cocks, had finally managed to move one of them in such a way as to set the engine going, and the wheel began to revolve. "are we going all right?" she cried, from below. "i am afraid not," said the gallant commander. "the wheel is roiling up the water at a great rate, but we don't seem to be going ahead very fast--in fact, we're simply moving round and round as though we were on a pivot." "i'm afraid we're aground amidships," said xanthippe, gazing over the side of the house-boat anxiously. "she certainly acts that way--like a merry-go-round." "well, there's something wrong," said mrs. noah; "and we've got to hurry and find out what it is, or those men will be back and we shall be as badly off as ever." "maybe this has something to do with it," observed mrs. lot, pointing to the anchor rope. "it looks to me as if those horrid men had tied us fast." "that's just what it is," snapped mrs. noah. "they guessed our plan, and have fastened us to a pole or something, but i imagine we can untie it." portia, who had come on deck, gave a short little laugh. "why, of course we don't move," she said--"we are anchored!" "what's that?" queried mrs. noah. "we never had an experience like that on the ark." portia explained the science of the anchor. "what nonsense!" ejaculated mrs. noah. "how can we get away from it?" "we've got to pull it up," said portia. "order all hands on deck and have it pulled up." "it can't be done, and, if it could, i wouldn't have it!" said mrs. noah, indignantly. "the idea! lifting heavy pieces of iron, my dear portia, is not a woman's work. send for delilah, and let her cut the rope with her scissors." "it would take her a week to cut a hawser like that," said elizabeth, who had been investigating. "it would be more to the purpose, i think, to chop it in two with an axe." "very well," replied mrs. noah, satisfied. "i don't care how it is done as long as it is done quickly. it would never do for us to be recaptured now." the suggestion of elizabeth was carried out, and the queen herself cut the hawser with six well-directed strokes of the axe. "you _are_ an expert with it, aren't you?" smiled cleopatra. "i am, indeed," replied elizabeth, grimly. "i had it suspended over my head for so long a time before i got to the throne that i couldn't help familiarizing myself with some of its possibilities." "ah!" cried mrs. noah, as the vessel began to move. "i begin to feel easier. it looks now as if we were really off." "it seems to me, though," said cleopatra, gazing forward, "that we are going backward." "oh, well, what if we are!" said mrs. noah. "we did that on the ark half the time. it doesn't make any difference which way we are going as long as we go, does it?" "why, of course it does!" cried elizabeth. "what can you be thinking of? people who walk backward are in great danger of running into other people. why not the same with ships? it seems to me, it's a very dangerous piece of business, sailing backward." "oh, nonsense," snapped mrs. noah. "you are as timid as a zebra. during the flood, we sailed days and days and days, going backward. it didn't make a particle of difference how we went--it was as safe one way as another, and we got just as far away in the end. our main object now is to get away from the pirates, and that's what we are doing. don't get emotional, lizzie, and remember, too, that i am in charge. if i think the boat ought to go sideways, sideways she shall go. if you don't like it, it is still not too late to put you ashore." the threat calmed elizabeth somewhat, and she was satisfied, and all went well with them, even if portia had started the propeller revolving reverse fashion; so that the house-boat was, as elizabeth had said, backing her way through the ocean. the day passed, and by slow degrees the island and the marooned pirates faded from view, and the night came on, and with it a dense fog. "we're going to have a nasty night, i am afraid," said xanthippe, looking anxiously out of the port. "no doubt," said mrs. noah, pleasantly. "i'm sorry for those who have to be out in it." "that's what i was thinking about," observed xanthippe. "it's going to be very hard on us keeping watch." "watch for what?" demanded mrs. noah, looking over the tops of her glasses at xanthippe. "why, surely you are going to have lookouts stationed on deck?" said elizabeth. "not at all," said mrs. noah. "perfectly absurd. we never did it on the ark, and it isn't necessary now. i want you all to go to bed at ten o'clock. i don't think the night air is good for you. besides, it isn't proper for a woman to be out after dark, whether she's new or not." "but, my dear mrs. noah," expostulated cleopatra, "what will become of the ship?" "i guess she'll float through the night whether we are on deck or not," said the commander. "the ark did, why not this? now, girls, these new-fangled yachting notions are all nonsense. it's night, and there's a fog as thick as a stone-wall all about us. if there were a hundred of you upon deck with ten eyes apiece, you couldn't see anything. you might much better be in bed. as your captain, chaperon, and grandmother, i command you to stay below." "but--who is to steer?" queried xanthippe. "what's the use of steering until we can see where to steer to?" demanded mrs. noah. "i certainly don't intend to bother with that tiller until some reason for doing it arises. we haven't any place to steer to yet; we don't know where we are going. now, my dear children, be reasonable, and don't worry me. i've had a very hard day of it, and i feel my responsibilities keenly. just let me manage, and we'll come out all right. i've had more experience than any of you, and if--" a terrible crash interrupted the old lady's remarks. the house-boat shivered and shook, careened way to one side, and as quickly righted and stood still. a mad rush up the gangway followed, and in a moment a hundred and eighty-three pale-faced, trembling women stood upon the deck, gazing with horror at a great helpless hulk ten feet to the rear, fastened by broken ropes and odd pieces of rigging to the stern-posts of the house-boat, sinking slowly but surely into the sea. [illustration: "a great helpless hulk ten feet to the rear"] it was the _gehenna_! the house-boat had run her down and her last hour had come, but, thanks to the stanchness of her build and wonderful beam, the floating club-house had withstood the shock of the impact and now rode the waters as gracefully as ever. portia was the first to realize the extent of the catastrophe, and in a short while chairs and life-preservers and tables--everything that could float--had been tossed into the sea to the struggling immortals therein. on board the _gehenna_, those who had not cast themselves into the waters, under the cool direction of holmes and bonaparte, calmly lowered the boats, and in a short while were not only able to felicitate themselves upon their safety, but had likewise the good fortune to rescue their more impetuous brethren who had preferred to swim for it. ultimately, all were brought aboard the house-boat in safety, and the men in hades were once more reunited to their wives, daughters, sisters, and _fiancées_, and elizabeth had the satisfaction of once more saving the life of raleigh by throwing him her ruff as she had done a year or so previously, when she and her brother had been upset in the swift current of the river styx. order and happiness being restored, holmes took command of the house-boat and soon navigated her safely back into her old-time berth. the _gehenna_ went to the bottom and was never seen again, and when the roll was called it was found that all who had set out upon her had returned in safety save shylock, kidd, sir henry morgan, and abeuchapeta; but even they were not lost, for, five weeks later, these four worthies were found early one morning drifting slowly up the river styx, gazing anxiously out from the top of a water-cask and yelling lustily for help. and here endeth the chronicle of the pursuit of the good old house-boat. back to her moorings, the even tenor of her ways was once more resumed, but with one slight difference. the ladies became eligible for membership, and, availing themselves of the privilege, began to think less and less of the advantages of being men and to rejoice that, after all, they were women; and even xanthippe and socrates, after that night of peril, reconciled their differences, and no longer quarrel as to which is the more entitled to wear the toga of authority. it has become for them a divided skirt. as for kidd and his fellows, they have never recovered from the effects of their fearful, though short, exile upon holmes island, and are but shadows of their former shades; whereas mr. sherlock holmes has so endeared himself to his new-found friends that he is quite as popular with them as he is with us, who have yet to cross the dark river and be subjected to the scrutiny of the committee on membership at the house-boat on the styx. even hawkshaw has been able to detect his genius. proofreading team, and the internet library of early journals notes and queries: a medium of inter-communication for literary men, artists, antiquaries, genealogists, etc. * * * * * "when found, make a note of."--captain cuttle. * * * * * no. .] saturday, april , [price threepence. stamped edition d. * * * * * { } contents. our further progress. notes:-- roger bacon, hints for a new edition of. craik's romance of the peerage. notes on cunningham's london, by e.f. rimbault, ll.d. pope's revision of spence, by w.s. singer. folk lore:--charm for the toothache--easter eggs--cure for hooping-cough--gootet. duke of monmouth's pocket-book, by c. ross. queries:-- woolton's christian manual. luther's translation of the new testament. minor queries:--medical symbols--charles ii. and lord r.'s daughter--st. alban's day--black broth--deputy lieutenant of the tower--buccaneers--travelling in --richard hooker--decker's raven's almanack--prebendaries--luther's portrait--rawdon papers--wellington, wyrwast, &c.--blockade of corfe castle--locke's mss.--locke's life of lord shaftesbury--théses--apocrypha, &c. replies:-- scala coeli, by c.h. cooper. watching the sepulchre. queries answered, no. ., by bolton corney. replies to minor queries:--compendyous olde treatyse--hurdys--eachard's tracts--masters of st. cross--living dog better than dead lion--monumental brass--wickliff mss.--hever--steward family--gloves--cromlech--watewich--by hook or by crook--tablet to napolean--lines on pharaoh--zachary boyd--the welsh ambassador--madoc--poghell--swingeing tureen--"a" or "an." miscellaneous:-- notes on books, sales, catalogues, &c. books and odd volumes wanted. notices to correspondents. advertisements. * * * * * our further progress. we have again been called upon to reprint our first four numbers; that is to say, to print a _third edition_ of them. no stronger evidence could be afforded that our endeavour to do good service to the cause of sound learning, by affording to men of letters a medium of intercommunication, has met with the sympathy and encouragement of those for whose sake we made the trial. we thank them heartily for their generous support, and trust we shall not be disappointed in our hope and expectation that they will find their reward in the growing utility of "notes and queries," which, thanks to the readiness with which able correspondents pour out their stores of learning, may be said to place the judicious inquirer in the condition of posthumus, and "puts to him all the learnings that _this_ time could make him the receiver of." and here we may be permitted to avail ourselves of this opportunity, as, indeed, we feel compelled to do, to impress upon our correspondents generally, the necessity of confining their communications within the narrowest possible limits consistent with a satisfactory explanation of the immediate objects of them. "he that questioneth much," says bacon, "shall learn much, and content much; but especially if he apply his questions to the skill of the persons whom he asketh. for he shall give them occasion to please themselves in speaking, and himself shall continually gather knowledge. but let his questions not be troublesome, for that is fit for a poser; and let him be sure _to leave other men their turn to speak_." what bacon has said so wisely and so well, "of discourse," we would apply to our little journal; and beg our kind friends to remember, that our space is necessarily limited, and that, therefore, in our eyes, brevity will be as much the soul of a communication as it is said to be that of wit. * * * * * notes. roger bacon: hints and queries for a new edition of his works. victor cousin, who has been for many years engaged in researches on the scholastic philosophy, with the view of collecting and publishing such of its monuments as have escaped the diligence of scholars, or the ravages of time, has lately made the discovery in the library at douay of a copy of an inedited ms. of roger bacon, entitled _opus tertium_, of which but two or three other copies are known to exist; and has taken occasion, in some elaborate critiques, to enter, at considerable length, into the history and character of roger { } bacon and his writings.[ ] the following is a summary of part of m. cousin's observations. the _opus tertium_ contains the author's last revision, in the form of an abridgment and improvement, of the _opus majus_; and was drawn up at the command of pope clement iv., and so called from being the _third_ of three copies forwarded to his holiness; the third copy being not a _fac-simile_ of the others, but containing many most important additions, particularly with regard to the reformation of the calendar. it also throws much light on bacon's own literary history and studies, and the difficulties and persecutions he had to surmount from the jealousies and suspicions of his less-enlightened contemporaries and rivals. the _opus tertium_, according to the sketch given of its contents by bacon himself, is not complete either in the douay ms. or in that in the british museum, several subjects being left out; and, among others, that of moral philosophy. this deficiency may arise, either from bacon not having completed his original design, or from no complete ms. of this portion of his writings having yet been discovered. m. cousin says, that the _opus tertium_, as well as the _opus minus_, is still inedited; and is only known by what jebb has said of it in his preface to the _opus majus_. jebb quotes it from a copy in the cottonian library, now in the british museum; and it was not known that there was a copy in france, till m. cousin was led to the discovery of one, by observing in the catalogue of the public library of douay, a small ms. in to. with the following title, _rog. baconis grammatica græca_. accustomed to suspect the accuracy of such titles to mss., m. cousin caused a strict examination of the ms. to be made, when the discovery was communicated to him that only the first part of the ms. consisted of a greek grammar, and that the remaining portion, which the compiler of the catalogue had not taken the trouble to examine, consisted of many fragments of other works of bacon, and a copy of the _opus tertium_. this copy of the _opus tertium_ is imperfect, but fortunately the deficiencies are made up by the british museum copy, which m. cousin examined, and which also contains a valuable addition to chapter i., and a number of good readings. the _opus majus_, as published by jebb, contains but six parts; but the work in its complete state had originally a seventh part, containing moral philosophy, which was reproduced, in an abridged and improved state, by the renowned author, in the _opus tertium_. this is now ascertained, says m. cousin, with unquestionable certainty, and for the first time, from the examination of the douay ms.; which alludes, in the most precise terms, to the treatise on that subject. hence the importance of endeavouring to discover what has become of the ms. treatise of moral philosophy mentioned by jebb, on the authority of bale and pits, as it is very likely to have been the seventh part of the _opus majus_. jebb published the _opus majus_ from a dublin ms., collated with other mss.; but he gives no description of that ms., only saying that it contained many other works attributed to bacon, and in such an order that they seemed to form but one and the same work. it becomes necessary, therefore, to ascertain what were the different works of bacon included in the dublin ms.; which is, in all probability, the same mentioned as being in trinity college, in the _catalogi codicum manuscriptorum angliæ et hiberniæ in unum collecti_: folio. oxon, . according to this catalogue, a treatise on moral philosophy forms part of roger bacon's mss. there enumerated; and if so, why did jebb suppress it in his edition of the _opus majus_? perhaps some of your correspondents in dublin may think it worth the trouble to endeavour to clear up this difficulty, on which m. cousin lays great stress; and recommends, at the same time, a new and complete edition of the _opus majus_ to the patriotism of some oxford or cambridge savant. he might well have included dublin in his appeal for help in this undertaking; which, he says, would throw a better light on that vast, and not very intelligible monument of one of the most independent and greatest minds of the middle ages. j.m. oxford, april th. [footnote : see _journal des savants_, mars, avril, mai, juin, .] * * * * * craik's romance of the peerage. if i knew where to address mr. g.l. craik, i should send him the following "note:" if you think it deserves a place in your columns, it may probably meet his eye. in the article on the lady arabella stuart (_romance of the peerage_, vol. ii. p. .), a letter of sir ralph winwood, dated , is quoted, in which he states, that she is "not altogether free from suspicion of being collapsed." on this mr. craik observes, "it is difficult to conjecture what can be here meant by _collapsed_, unless it be fallen off to romanism." now it is not a little curious, and it proves mr. craik's capability for the task of illustrating family history from the obscure allusions in letters and documents, that there exists cotemporary authority for fixing the meaning mr. craik has conjectured to be the true one, to the word _collapsed_. a pamphlet, with the title _a letter to mr. t.h., late minister, now fugitive_, was published in , with a dedication to all romish _collapsed_ "ladies of great britain;" which bears internal evidence of being addressed to those who were converts from the church of england to romanism. { } theophilus higgons, whom the above initials represent, was himself a convert to the church of rome. it may be worth while making a further note, that the copy of the pamphlet before me belonged to camden, and is described in his autograph, _guil. camdenj. ex. dono authoris_. it forms one of a large collection of tracts and pamphlets, originally the property of camden, which are now in the library of the dean and chapter here. it is curious that another document quoted by mr. craik in the same volume (p. _note_), seems to fix the meaning of a word or expression, of obscure signification, in the authorised translation of the bible. in judges, ix. ., we read, "a certain woman cast a piece of a millstone upon abimelech's head, and all tobrake his skull." i have heard some one, in despair at the grammatical construction of the latter clause, suggest that it might be an error for "_also_ brake his skull;" and i have been told, that some printer or editor solved the difficulty by turning it into "and all to _break_ his skull." but in the lieutenant of the tower's marginal notes on an inventory of the countess of hertford's (lady katherine grey) furniture, quoted by mr. craik from lands. ms. . art. ., he described the _sparrer_ for the bed as "_all to-broken_, not worth ten pence." there seems, therefore, to have been a compound, "to-breck, to-brake, to-broken" (_perfrango_), of which the word in the "book of judges" is the preterite. i may be exposing my ignorance, when i say, that the quotation in the _romance of the peerage_ is the only other instance of its use i ever met with. william h. cope. cloisters, westminster [the word "to-break," is not to be found in nares.--mr. halliwell, in his _archaic dictionary_, has to-broke, broken in pieces: "the gates that neptunus made a thousand wynter theretofore, they have anon _to-broke_ and tore." from the _gower ms_. soc. ant. , f. . the word occurs also in chaucer (p. . ed. urry):-- "to-broken ben the statutes hie in heven;" and also in the _vision of piers ploughman_ (p. . ed. wright): "the bagges and the bigirdles he hath to-broke them all." and mr. wright very properly remarks, that "_to_- prefixed in composition to verbs of anglo-saxon origin, has the same force as the german _zu_, giving to the word the idea of destruction or deterioration."] * * * * * notes upon cunningham's handbook for london. _lambeth wells._--a place of public entertainment, first opened in . it was celebrated for its mineral water, which was sold at one penny per quart. at the beginning of the eighteenth century it was provided with a band of music, which played at intervals during the day, and the price of admission was threepence. a monthly concert, under the direction of starling goodwin, organist of st. saviour's church, southwark, was held here in . _hickford's rooms, panton street, haymarket._--these rooms, under the name of "hickford's dancing rooms," were in existence as early as . in , they were opened as the "musick-room." a contemporary account says:-- "the band was selected from the opera house; but the singularity most attractive consisted of an organ combined with a harpsichord, played by clock-work, which exhibited the movements of an orrery and air-pump, besides solving astronomical and geographical problems on two globes, and showing the moon's age, with the copernican system in motion." in , mr. galliard's benefit is announced to take place "at mr. hickford's great room in brewer street, golden square."--see the _daily post_ of march . the "great room" is now known as "willis's dancing academy." _the music room in dean street, soho._--the oratorio of judas maccabeus was performed here in great splendour in . it was afterwards the auction room of the elder christie; and is now "caldwell's dancing academy." george iii. frequently honoured this "musick-room" with his presence. _the music room in charles street, covent garden_:-- "the consort of musick, lately in bow street, is removed next bedford gate, in _charles street, covent garden_, where a room is newly built for that purpose."--_lond. gaz._ feb. . . "a consort of music, with several new voices, to be performed on the th instant, at the _vendu_ in charles street, covent garden."--ibid. march . . in was published _thesaurus musicus_, being a collection of the "newest songs performed at their majesties' theatres, and at the consorts in villier street, in york buildings, and in _charles street, covent garden_." in the proposals for the establishment of a royal academy in , the subscription books are advertised as being open, amongst other places, "at the musick room in charles street, covent garden." _coleman's music house._--a house of entertainment, with a large and well planted garden, known as "coleman's musick house," was offered for sale in . it was situated near _lamb's conduit_, and was demolished upon the building of ormond street. _white conduit house._--the old tavern of this name was erected in the reign of charles i. the workmen are said to have been regaling themselves upon the completion of the building, at the instant the king was beheaded at whitehall. { } _goodman's field wells._--a place of entertainment established after the suppression of the theatre in this locality in . _bride lane, st. bride's._--the first meetings of the madrigal society (established in ) were held at a public-house in this lane, called "the twelve bells." edward f. rimbault. * * * * * pope's revision of spence's essay on the odyssey. spence's almost idolatrous admiration of, and devotion to, pope, is evident from the pains he took to preserve every little anecdote of him that he could elicit from conversation with him, or with those who knew him. unfortunately, he had not boswell's address and talent for recording gossip, or the _anecdotes_ would have been a much more racy book. spence was certainly an amiable, but i think a very weak man; and it appears to me that his learning has been overrated. he might indeed have been well designated as "a fiddle-faddle bit of sterling." i have the original ms. of the two last dialogues of the _essay on the odyssey_ as written by spence, and on the first page is the following note:--"the two last evenings corrected by mr. pope." on a blank page at the end, spence has again written:--"ms. of the two last evenings corrected with mr. pope's own hand, w'ch serv'd y'e press, and is so mark'd as usual by litchfield." this will elucidate malone's note in his copy of the book, which mr. bolton corney has transcribed. i think the first three dialogues were published in a little volume before spence became acquainted with pope, and perhaps led to that acquaintance. their intercourse afterwards might supply some capital illustrations for a new edition of mr. corney's curious chapter on _camaraderie littéraire_. the ms. copy of spence's essay bears frequent marks of pope's correcting hand by erasure and interlineary correction, silently made. i transcribe the few passages where the poet's revision of his critic are accompanied by remarks. in evening the fourth, spence had written:--"it may be inquired, too, how far this translation may make a wrong use of terms borrowed from the arts and sciences, &c. [the instances are thus pointed out.] as where we read of a ship's crew, od. . . the longitude, od. . . doubling the cape, od. . . of architraves, colonnades, and the like, od. . ." pope has erased this and the references, and says:--"_these are great faults; pray don't point 'em out, but spare your servant_." at p. . spence had written:--"yellow is a proper epithet of fruit; but not of fruit that we say at the same time is ripening into gold." upon which pope observes:--"i think yellow may be s'd to ripen into gold, as gold is a deeper, fuller colour than yellow." again: "what is proper in one language, may not be so in another. were homer to call the sea a thousand times by the title of [greek: porphureos], 'purple deeps' would not sound well in english. the reason's evident: the word 'purple' among us is confined to one colour, and that not very applicable to the deep. was any one to translate the _purpureis oloribus_ of horace, 'purple swans' would not be so literal as to miss the sense of the author entirely." upon which pope has remarked:--"the sea is actually of a deep purple in many places, and in many views." upon a passage in spence's _criticism_, at p. ., pope says:--"i think this too nice." and the couplet objected to by spence-- "deep in my soul the trust shall lodge secur'd, with ribs of steel, and marble heart immur'd," he pronounced "very bad." and of some tumid metaphors he says, "all too forced and over-charged." at p. . spence says:--"does it not sound mean to talk of lopping a man? of lopping away all his posterity? or of trimming him with brazen sheers? is there not something mean, where a goddess is represented as beck'ning and waving her deathless hands; or, when the gods are dragging those that have provok'd them to destruction by the links of fate?" of the two first instances, pope says:--"intended to be comic in a sarcastic speech." and of the last:--"i think not at all mean, see the greek." the remarks are, however, expunged. the longest remonstrance occurs at p. . of the fifth dialogue. spence had written:--"the _odyssey_, as a moral poem, exceeds all the writings of the ancients: it is perpetual in forming the manners, and in instructing the mind; it sets off the duties of life more fully as well as more agreeably than the academy or lyceum. _horace ventured to say thus much of the iliad, and certainly it may be more justly said of this later production by the same hand_." for the words in italics pope has substituted:--"horace, who was so well acquainted with the tenets of both, has given homer's poems the preference to either:" and says in a note:--"i think you are mistaken in limiting this commendation and judgment of horace to the _iliad_. he says it, at the beginning of his epistle, of homer in general, and afterwards proposes both poems equally as examples of morality; though the _iliad_ be mentioned first: but then follows--'_rursus quid virtus et quid sapientia possit, utile proposuit nobis exemplar ulyssem_,' &c. of the odyssey." at p. . spence says:--"there seems to be something mean and awkward in this image:-- "'his _loose head_ tottering as with wine opprest obliquely drops, and _nodding_ knocks his breast.'" here pope says:--"sure these are good lines. { } they are not mine." of other passages which please him, he occasionally says,--"this is good sense." and on one occasion, where spence had objected, he says candidly:--"this is bad, indeed,"--"and this." at p. . spence writes:--"there's a passage which i remember i was mightily pleased with formerly in reading _cervantes_, without seeing any reason for it at that time; tho' i now imagine that which took me in it comes under this view. speaking of don quixote, the first time that adventurer came in sight of the ocean, he expresses his sentiments on this occasion in the following manner:--'he saw the sea, which he had never seen before, and thought it much bigger than the river at salamanca.'" on this occasion pope suggests,--"dr. swift's fable to ph----s, of the two asses and socrates." s.w. singer. april . . * * * * * folk lore. _charm for the toothache._--the charm which one of your correspondents has proved to be in use in the south-eastern counties of england, and another has shown to be practised at kilkenny, was also known more than thirty years ago in the north of scotland. at that time i was a school-boy at aberdeen, and a sufferer--probably it was in march or april, with an easterly wind--from toothache. a worthy scotchwoman told me, that the way to be cured of my toothache was to find a charm for it in the bible. i averred, as your correspondent the curate did, that i could not find any such charm. my adviser then repeated to me the charm, which i wrote down from her dictation. kind soul! she could not write herself. it was pretty nearly in the words which your correspondent has sent you. according to my recollection, it ran thus:--"peter sat upon a stone, weeping. and the lord said unto him, 'peter, why weepest thou?' and he answered, and said, 'lord, my tooth acheth.' and the lord said unto him, 'arise, peter, thy teeth shall ache no more.'" "now," continued my instructress, "if you gang home and put yon bit screen into your bible, you'll never be able to say again that you canna find a charm agin the toothache i' the bible." this was her version of the matter, and i have no doubt it was the orthodox one; for, although one of the most benevolent old souls i ever knew, she was also one of the most ignorant and superstitious. i kept the written paper, not in my bible, but in an old pocket-book for many years, but it has disappeared. john bruce. _easter eggs_ (no. . p. .).--breakfasting on easter monday, some years ago, at the george inn at ilminster, in the county of somerset, in the palmy days of the quicksilver mail, when the table continued to be spread for coach travellers at that time from four in the morning till ten at night, we were presented with eggs stained in the boiling with a variety of colours: a practice which brande records as being in use in his time in the north of england, and among the modern greeks. s.s.s. _cure for the hooping-cough._--"i know," said one of my parishioners, "what would cure him, but m'appen you woudent believe me." "what is it, mary?" i asked. "why, i did every thing that every body teld me. one teld me to get him breathed on by a pie-bald horse. i took him ever such a way, to a horse at ----, and put him under the horse's mouth; but he was no better. then i was teld to drag him backward through a bramble bush. i did so; but this didn't cure him. last of all, i was teld to give him nine fried mice, fasting, in a morning, in this way:--three the first morning; then wait three mornings, and then give him three more; wait three mornings, and then give him three more. when he had eaten these nine fried mice he became quite well. this would be sure to cure your child, sir." w.h.k. drayton beauchamp. _gootet._--in eccleshall parish, staffordshire, shrove tuesday is called gootet. i am not aware if this be the true spelling, for i have never seen it in print. can any of your readers supply the etymology, or state whether it is so called in any other part of england? i have searched numerous provincial glossaries, but have hitherto been unsuccessful. b.g.j. * * * * * the duke of monmouth's pocket-book. it is reasonable to conclude, that the article copied from _chambers' edinburgh journal_, in no. ., furnishes the strongest evidence that can be adduced in support of the opinion, that the book in the possession of dr. anster is the one found on the duke of monmouth when captured, after his defeat at sedgemoor; and, if so, it is impossible to admit the hypothesis, because a portion of the contents of the real book has been given to the world and contains matter far too important to have been passed over by dr. anster, had it existed in his volume. in the th edition of dr. welwood's _memoirs of the most material transactions in england for the last hundred years preceding the revolution in _, printed for "tim. goodwin, at the queen's head, against st. dunstan's church, in fleet street, ," the following passage is to be found at p. .:-- "but of the most things above mentioned there is an infallible proof extant under monmouth's own hand, in a little pocket-book which was taken with him and delivered to king james; which by an accident, as needless to mention here, i have leave to copy and did { } it in part. a great many dark passages there are in it, and some clear enough that shall be eternally buried for me: and perhaps it had been for king james's honour to have committed them to the flames, as julius cæsar is said to have done on a like occasion. all the use that shall be made of it is, to give in the appendix some few passages out of it that refer to this subject, and confirm what has been above related." in the appendix the following extracts are given from the duke's book:-- "_october_ . l. came to me at eleven at night from , told me could never be brought to believe i knew anything of that part of the plot that concern'd _rye house_; but as things went he must behave himself as if he did believe it, for some reasons that might be for my advantage. l. desired me to write to , which i refus'd; but afterwards told me expected it; and i promis'd to write to-morrow if he could call for the letter; at which s.l. shew'd a great concern for me, and i believe him sincere though s is of another mind. " . l. came as he promis'd and receiv'd the letter from sealed, refusing to read it himself, tho' i had left it open with s. for that purpose. " . l. came to me at s. with a line or two from very kind, assuring me he believed every word in my letter to be true; and advis'd me to keep hid till he had an opportunity to express his belief of it some other way. l. told me that he was to go out of town next day and that would send to me in a day or two, whom he assured me i might trust. " . l. came for me to ----, where was with . he receiv'd me pretty well, and said and were the causes of my misfortune and would ruin me. after some hot words against them and against s., went away in a good humour. " . i went to e---- and was in danger of being discover'd by some of oglethorpe's men that met me accidentally at the back door of the garden. "_nov_ . a letter from to be to-morrow at seven at night at s. and nobody to know it but . " . he came not, there being an extraordinary council. but brought me a copy of 's intercepted letter, which made rather for me than against me. bid me come to-morrow at the same hour, and to say nothing of the letter except spake of it first. " . i came and found and l. there; he was very kind and gave me directions how to manage my business and what words i should say to . he appointed to come to me every night until my business was ripe and promised to send with him directions from time to time. " . l. came from and told me my business should be done to my mind next week, and that q. was my friend, and had spoke to and d. in my behalf; which he said took very kindly and had expressed so to her. at parting he told me there should be nothing requir'd of me but what was both safe and honourable. but said there must be something done to blind . " . l came to me with a copy of a letter i was to sign to please . i desired to know in whose hands it was to be deposited; for i would have it in no hands but . he told me it should be so; but if ask'd a copy it could not well be refus'd. i referred myself entirely to 's pleasure. " . l. came to me from and order'd me to render myself to-morrow. cautioned me to play my part, to avoid questions as much as possible, and to seem absolutely converted to 's interest. bad me bear with some words that might seem harsh. " . i render'd myself. at night could not dissemble his satisfaction; press'd my hand, which i remember not he did before except when i return'd from the french service. acted his part well, and i too. and d. seemed not ill pleas'd. " . took me aside and falling upon the business of l.r. said he inclined to have sav'd him but was forc'd to it, otherwise he must have broke with . bid me think no more on't. coming home l. told me he fear'd began to smell out 's carriage. that ---- said to that morning that all that was done was but sham. " . several told me of the storm that was brewing. rumsey was with and was seem to come out crying that he must accuse a man he lov'd. "_dec._ . a letter from bidding me stay till i heard farther from him. "_jan._ . i received a letter from l. marked by in the margin to trust entirely in ; and that in february i should certainly have leave to return. that matters were concerted towards it; and that had no suspicion, notwithstanding of my reception here. "_feb._ . a letter from l. that my business was almost as well as done; but must be so sudden as not to leave room for 's party to counterplot. that it is probable he would choose scotland rather than flanders or this country; which was all one to . " . the sad news of his death by l. _o cruel fate!_" dr. welwood cautiously adds, in a note:-- "that by and king charles and the duke of york seem to be meant. but i know not what to make of the other numbers and letters, and must leave the reader to his own conjectures." there can, i apprehend, be little doubt that the l.r., under the date of november , were meant to indicate the patriotic lord russell. the whole of these extracts possess the highest interest, establishing as they do several points referred to by historians. it is curious to remark the complete subjection in which charles, at this period, stood towards his brother; occasioned, perhaps, but the foreign supplies which he scrupled not to receive, being dependant on his adhesion to the policy of which the duke of york was the avowed representative. shortly before his death, charles appears to have meditated emancipation from this state of thraldom; and hume says,-- "he was determined, it is thought, to send the duke to scotland, to recall monmouth, to summon a parliament, to dismiss all his unpopular ministers, and to throw himself entirely upon the good will and affections of his subjects." { } this passage accords with the entries in monmouth's pocket-book under the dates of jan. . and feb. . if the unfortunate monmouth could have foreseen the miserable end, with all its accompanying humiliations and horrors, to which a few months were destined to bring him, his exclamation, "o cruel fate!" would have acquired additional bitterness. c. ross. [we insert the foregoing as serving to complete the series of interesting notices connected with the capture of monmouth which have appeared in our columns, rather than from an agreement with the views of our valued correspondent. dr. anster states, that in the pocket-book in his possession, the duke's movements up to the th march, - , are given. would he kindly settle the question by stating whether the passages quoted by weldon are to be found among them?] * * * * * queries. woolton's christian manual. one important use, i conceive, of the "notes and queries" is, the opportunity it presents of ascertaining the existence of rare editions of early printed books. can any of your readers state where a copy or copies of the following may be found? "the christian manuell, or the life and maners of true christians. a treatise, wherein is plentifully declared how needeful it is for the servaunts of god to manifest and declare to the world: their faith by their deedes, their words by their work, and their profession by their conversation. written by jhon woolton, minister of the gospel, in the cathedral church of exetor. imprinted at london by j.c. for tho. sturruppe, in paules church yarde, at the george, . dedicated to sir william cordell knight, maister of the rolles.--at whymple nouember . n , in eights."--copy formerly in the possession of herbert. (herbert, _typographical antiquities_, vol. ii. p. .) there is an imperfect copy, i understand, in the bodleian. access to another copy has been needed for an important public object, in order to transcribe the leaf or leaves wanting in the bodleian copy; and the book, so far as i am aware, does not occur in any other public libraries. woolton was nephew to nowell, author of the _catechisms_. he wrote several other pieces, and was bishop of exeter - . (wood, _athen. oxon._ ed. bliss, vol. i. pp. , .) t. bath, april . . * * * * * luther's translation of the new testament:-- john, v. . in an article of the _quarterly review_ (vol. xxxiii. p. .) on this controverted passage of st. john's epistles, generally attributed to the present learned bishop of ely, the following statement is made respecting luther:-- "let it also be recollected, to the honour of luther, bugenhagius, and other leaders of the reformation, that in this contest they magnanimously stood by the decision of erasmus. luther, in his translation of the new testament, omitted the passage; and, in the preface to the last edition (in ) revised by himself, he solemnly requested that his translation should on no account be altered." since such was the injunction of luther, how does it happen that this verse appears in the later editions of his testament? i have looked into five or six editions, and have not found the verse in the two earliest. these bear the following titles:-- "biblia dat ys. de gantze hillige schrifft verdüdeschet dorch doct. mart. luth. wittemberch. hans lufft. ." (in folio.) "dat neu testamente verdüdeschet dörch d. mart. luth. mit den korten summarien l. leonharti hutteri. gosslar. in iahre ." the verse appears in an edition of his bible printed at halle in ; in his new testament, tubingen, ; in one printed at basel in ; and is also to be found in that printed by the christian knowledge society. in the basel edition the verse is thus given;-- "denn drey sind, die de zeugen im himmel; der vater, das wort, und der beilige geist; und diese drey sind eins." perhaps some of your learned readers can explain when, and by whose authority, the verse was inserted in luther's testament. e.m.b. [we may add, that the verse also appears in the stereotype edition of luther's bible, published by tauchnitz, at leipsig, in .--ed.] * * * * * minor queries. _medical symbols._--"a patient" inquires respecting the origin and date of the marks used to designate weights in medical prescriptions. _charles ii. and lord r.'s daughter._--can any of your readers inform me who was the lady that is referred to in the following passage, from henry sidney's _diary_, edited by mr. blencowe (march . , vol. i. p. .):-- "the king hath a new mistress, lord r----'s daughter: she brought the duke of monmouth to the king." c. _st. alban's day._--a friend has asked me the following question, which some of your readers may perhaps be able to answer, viz.:-- "till the reign of ed. vi. st. alban's day was kept in england on june d (the supposed anniversary { } of his martyrdom). it was then erased from the kalendar, but restored to it in the reign of chas. ii.; when it was transferred to june th. why was this change made?" w.c. trevelyan. _black broth_ (no. . p. .).--if this were a sauce or condiment, may not the colour have been produced by the juice of the boletus, much used in greece to the present day? s.s.s. _deputy-lieutenants of the tower of london._--by whom were these officers appointed? what was the nature of their duties? had they a salary, or was the office an honorary appointment? they used to meet periodically, was it for the transaction of business? if so, what business? does the office still exist? s.s.s. _buccaneers--charles ii._--there is a passage in bryan edward's _history of the west indies_ (vol. i. p. . to edit. ), in which he gives an opinion that the buccaneers of jamaica were not the pirates and robbers that they have been commonly represented; and mentions, on the authority of a ms. journal of sir william beeston, that charles ii. had a pecuniary interest in the buccaneering, and continued to receive a share of the booty after he had publicly ordered the suppression of buccaneering: and also, speaking of sir henry morgan, and the honours he received from charles ii., gives an opinion that the stories told of morgan's cruelty are untrue. can any of your readers tell me who sir william beeston was, and what or where his journal is? or refer me to any accessible information about charles ii.'s connection with the buccaneers, or that may support bryan edwards's favourable opinion of the jamaica buccaneers and of sir henry morgan? c. _travelling in .--richard hooker._--could any of your readers give me some particulars of travelling at the above period between london and salisbury? i should also feel greatly indebted for any _unpublished_ particulars in the life of the "judicious richard hooker" after his marriage. answers might be sent, either through "notes and queries," or direct to me, w. hastings kelke. drayton beauchamp, tring. _decker's raven's almanack--nash's terrors of the night, &c._--having lately picked up a volume of old tracts, i am anxious to learn how far i may congratulate myself on having met with a prize. among the contents are-- . "the rauen's almanacke," for the year , purporting to be by t. deckers. is this the same person with thomas dekker the dramatist? . nashe's "terrors of the night" (wanting eight leaves at the beginning.) of this, beloe (the only authority within my reach) says, that only one copy is known to exist; can his statement be correct? . a religious tract, which seems only remarkable for its bad printing, obscure wording, and almost invariably using the third person singular of the verb, whatever be the nominative. it begins-- "to all you who profess the name of our lord jesus in words, and makes mention of his words, &c.".... and the first division ends-- "this have i written in love to all your soules, who am one who did drinke of the cup of fornication, and have drunke of the cup of indignation, but now drinkes the cup of salvation, where sorrow and tears is fled away; and yet am a man of sorrows and well acquainted with griefe, and suffers with the seed, and travels that it may be brought forth of captivity; called by the world f.h." who is f.h.? . sundry poems on husbandry, housewifery, and the like, by thomas tusser; but as the tract is mutilated up to cap. ., "i have been prayde, to shew mine aide," &c., i am not book-learned enough to know whether it be the same as tusser's _five hundred poynts of good husbandry_. information on any of the above points would oblige. j.e. _prebendaries._--when were prebendaries first appointed, and what the nature of their duties generally? what is the rank of a prebendary of a cathedral or other church, whether as a layman or a clerk in orders? would a vicar, being a prebendary, take precedence as such of a rector not being one? where is the best account of prebends to be found? s.s.s. _luther's portrait at warwick castle._--there is at warwick castle a fine half-length portrait of luther by holbein, very unlike the ordinary portraits of the great reformer. is this portrait a genuine one? has it been engraved? e.m.b. _rawdon papers._--the rev. mr. berwick, in introducing to the public, in , the interesting volume known by the name of _rawdon papers_, says,-- "they are a small part of a correspondence which was left in the editor's hands after the greater portion had been sent several years before to the marquis of hastings, whose absence at this time prevents the editor's making such additions to his stock as might render it more interesting to the public." do these papers still exist in the possession of { } the hastings family, and is there any chance of a further publication? the volume published by mr. berwick contains some very interesting incidental illustrations of the politics, literature, and society of the seventeenth century, and much might be expected from the remaining papers. i may add, that this volume has not been so much used by historians as it should be; but, as was to be expected, it has not escaped mr. macaulay. it is not not well edited. c. _wellington, wyrwast, cokam._--in a ms. letter which i have relating to the siege of taunton in the civil war, is the following sentence, describing the movements of the royal army:-- "the enemy on friday last have quitted their garrisions in wellington wyrwast and cokam houses; the two last they have burnt." i am not certain about the second name, which seems to be wyrwast; and hsould be obliged by any information relative to these three houses. c. _blockade of corfe castle in ._--in martyn's _life of shafetesbury_ (vol. i. p. .) it is stated that a parliamentary force, under sir a.a. cooper, blockaded corfe castle in , after the taking of wareham. i can find no mention any where else of an attack on corfe castle in . the blockade of that castle, which lady bankes's defence has made memorable, was in the previous year, and sir a.a. cooper had not then joined the parliament. i should be glad if any of your readers could either corroborate martyn's account of a blockade of corfe castle in , or prove it to be, as i am inclined to think it, a mis-statement. i should be very thankful for any information as to sir anthony asteley cooper's proceedings in dorsetshire, wiltshire, and somersetshire, during the civil war and commonwealth, being engaged upon a life of lord shaftesbury. c. _mss. of locke._--a translation, by locke, of nicole's _essays_ was published in by harvey and darton, london; and it is stated in the title-page of the book, that it is printed from an autograph ms. of locke, in the possession of thomas hancock, m.d. i wish to know if dr. hancock, who also edited the volume, is still alive? and, if so, would let this querist have access to the other papers of locke's which he speaks of in the preface? c. _locke's proposed life of lord shaftesbury._--i perceive that the interesting volume of letters of locke, algernon sidney, and lord shaftesbury, published some years ago, by mr. foster, is advertised in your columns by your own publisher; and i therefore inquire, with some hope of eliciting information, whether the papers in mr. foster's possession, which he has abstained from publishing, contain any notices of the first earl of shaftesbury; and i am particularly anxious to know whether they contain any references to the life of lord shaftesbury which locke meditated, or throw any light upon the mode in which locke would have become possessed of some suppressed passages of edmund ludlow's memoirs. c. _theses._--many german works introduced into catalogues, are _theses_ defended at the universities. the name of the _president_ is generally first, and in larger letters than that of the propounder, who is usually the author. hence, it often happens, that the _thesis_ is entered as a work written by the _præses_. but is not unfrequently happened, that this præses was _really_ the author; and that, as an easy way of publishing his thought, he entrusted an essay to a candidate for a degree, to be defended by him. the seventh rule of the museum catalogue runs thus:-- "the respondent or defender in a thesis to be considered its author, except when it unequivocally appears to be the work of the præses." now, i would ask, what are the usual signs of the authorship? are there any catalogues of theses? any bibliographical works which contain hints for guidance in this matter? any correspondents who can advise generally on the whole matter? m. _apocrypha._--what editions of the bible _containing the apocrypha_ are now on sale at the ordinary way? _j.b.'s treatise on art and nature._--by a scrap of a book, apparently of the sixteenth century, it seems to be a treatise by j.b. upon art and nature: the first book is "of water-workes." what book is this? m. _nursery games and rhymes._--in the _letters and memoir of bishop shirley_, allusion is made (p. .) to a once popular game called "thread the needle," the first four lines of which are given. can any of your readers supply the remainder, or refer me to any work where they may be found? i also should feel obliged by any information respecting the age and origin of the popular nursery song, beginning,-- "a frog he would a-wooing go, heigho, says rowley." perhaps some of your readers will state where the correct text may be met with. b.g.j. _emancipation of the jews._--in francis' _history of the bank of english_, p. ., mention is made of an offer on the part of the jews to pay , l. to the state on the following conditions;-- . that the laws against them should be repealed; . that the bodleian library should be assigned to them; . that they should have permission to use st. { } paul's cathedral as a synagogue. it is stated, on the authority of a letter in the thurloe state papers, that this proposition was actually discussed. the larger sum of , l. was demanded; but, being refused, the negotiation was broken off. this proposition is said to have been made shortly before the elevation of cromwell to the protectorate. the subject is an interesting one in these days, when jewish disabilities are under discussion. i wish to offer two queries:-- . is this story confirmed by any contemporary writer? . is it conceivable that the jews would have consented to worship in a _cruciform_ church, such as was old st. paul's, which was standing at the time this offer is supposed to have been made? h.m. austen. st. peter's, thanet. _the complutensian mss._--has not there been an account of these mss. published in london in ? my authority for this query is to be found in a work of dr. d. antonio puigblanch:-- "en el año per encargo que hice desde madrid _se imprimio mio aca en londres_, de que es falso este rumor[ ], pues en la biblioteca de la universidad de alcala quedaban pocos meses antes en gue estune en ella siete manuscritos biblicos en aquellas dos lenguas[ ], que son sin duda los mismos siete de que hace mencion en la vida del cardenal cisneros, alfonso de castro, doctor téologo de la misma universidad, i escritor contemporaneo o de poco tiempo después, parte de los cuales manuscritos, es a saber, los caldéos, son de letra de alfonso de zamora, que es uno de los tres judíos conversos editores de la complutense."--_opusculos gramatico-satiricos del dr. d. antonio puigblanch_, londres [ ], p. . if the chaldee and hebrew mss. of the complutensian polyglot were at alcala in , when were they removed to madrid, and in what library at madrid are they now? the greek mss. are supposed to have been returned to the vatican library. if the chaldee mss. are in the handwriting of one of the editors, as stated by puigblanch, they cannot be of much value or authority. i shall add another query:--are they paper or parchment? e.m.b. [footnote : that the mss. were destroyed.] [footnote : hebrew and chaldee.] _latin names of towns._--a correspondent who answered the query as to the "latin names of towns" in titles, referred your readers to the supplement of lemprière. i am much obliged to him for the hint, and have obtained the work in consequence; but it is right your readers should know that the information therein given must only be taken as suggestive, and sometimes as dismissible upon reference to the commonest gazetteer. i opened at the letter n; and found, that of three entries, the first my eye lighted upon, two were palpably wrong. the first informs us that "næostadium _in palatinatu_" is in "france;" the third that "nellore" is in "_ceylon_." i am bound to say that i do not find errors so thickly scattered throughout, and that the list will be useful to me. but, query, is there any thing extensive of which the accuracy can be depended upon? m. kilkenny. * * * * * replies. scala coeli. i incline to think that the testator whose will is referred to in no. . p. ., by "scala coeli," meant king henry the seventh's chapel at westminster. margaret countess of richmond and derby, mother to king henry vii., in the indenture for founding chantry monks in the abbey of westminster, dated . march, henry vii. ( - ), states that she had obtained papal bulls of indulgence, that all persons saying and hearing her chantry masses should have as full remission from sin as in the place called _scala coeli_ beside rome, "to the great comfort and relief of the said monasterie and all cristen people resorting thereto." (_ms. lansd._ .) henry lord marney, by his will, dated d dec., hen. viii. ( ), directs a trental of masses to be "first at scala coeli, in westminster." (_testamenta vetusta_, .) blomefield (_hist. of norfolk_, vo. edit., iv. ) speaking of the church of the augustine friars at norwich, observes,-- "that which brought most profit to the convent, was the chapel of our lady in this church, called scala celi, to which people were continually coming in pilgrimage, and offering at the altar there; most folks desiring to have masses sung for them here, or to be buried in the cloister of scala celi, that they might be partakers of the many pardons and indulgences granted by the popes to this place; this being the only chapel (except that of the same name at westminster, and that of our lady in st. buttolph's church at boston,) that i find to have the same privileges and indulgences as the chapel of scala celi at rome; which were so great as made all the three places aforesaid so much frequented; it being easier to pay their devotions here, than go so long a journey; all which indulgences and pardons may be seen in fox's _acts and monuments_, fo. ." in bishop bale's singular play of _kynge johan_, published by the camden society, the king charges the clery with extorting money "for legacyes, trentalls with _scalacely_ messys whereby ye have made the people very assys." (p. .) and simon of swineshead, after drinking the poison, says,-- { } "to send me to heaven god rynge the holye belle, and synge for my sowle a masse of _scala celi_, that i may clyme up aloft with enoch and heli." (p. .) there are bulls of indulgence in scala coeli in rymer's _fædera_, xii. . . ., xiii. .; but i can now only give the reference, as i have not that work in hand. c.h. cooper. cambridge, april , * * * * * watching the sepulchre. "t.w." (no. . p. .) will find no end of "items" for watching the sepulchre, in the "churchwardens' accounts" before the reformation, and during the reign of queen mary. at easter it was the custom to erect a sepulchre on the north side of the chancel, to represent that of our saviour. this was generally a temporary structure of wood; though in some churches there still remain elaborately ornamented ones of stone. sometimes the founder's tomb was used for the purpose. in this sepulchre was placed on good friday the crucifix, and occasionally the host, with other emblems; and a person was employed to watch it till the morning of easter day, when it was taken out with great ceremony, in imitation of our lord's resurrection. it was the payment for this watching that occurs continually in the churchwardens' accounts, and of which, it appears, fuller could not understand the meaning. a paper on the subject of easter sepulchres, by mr. venables, was read at the meeting of the cambridge camden society in march, , but i am not aware whether it has been printed. some very curious "items" on this subject are given in britton's _redcliffe church_, which are quoted in the _oxford glossary of architecture_. they are so illustrative, that i subjoin them, to give you an opportunity, if you please, of serving them up to your readers:-- "item, that maister canynge hath deliver'd, this th day of july, in the year of our lord , to maister nicholas petters, vicar of st. mary redcliffe, moses conterin, philip barthelmew, procurators of st. mary redcliffe aforesaid, a new sepulchre, well gilt with gold, and a civer thereto. "item, an image of god almighty rising out of the same sepulchre, with all the ordinance that 'longeth thereto; that is to say, a lathe made of timber and the iron work thereto. "item, thereto 'longeth heaven, made of timber and stained clothes. "item, hell, made of timber, and the iron-work thereto, with divels to the number of . "item, knights, armed, keeping the sepulchre, with their weapons in their hands; that is to say, axes and spears, with pavés. "item, payr of angels' wings for angels, made of timber and well painted. "item, the fadre, the crown and visage, the ball with a cross upon it, well gilt with fine gould. "item, the holy ghost coming out of heaven into the sepulchre. "item, 'longeth to the angels chevelers." ducange (vol. vi. p. . new edit.) gives a detailed account of the service performed at the easter sepulchres on the continent. e. vee. cambridge, march . "_watching the sepulchre_" (no. . p. .).--at the present day, in most roman catholic countries it is the custom to exhibit in the principal churches at this period, and at christmas, a kind of _tableau_ of the entombment and of the birth of the saviour. the figures are sometimes small, and at other times the size of life: generally coloured, and formed of wax, wood, stone, or other materials; and when artistically arranged, and judiciously lighted, form sometimes beautiful objects. i have no doubt the entry in the churchwardens' accounts of waltham abbey refers to a custom of the same kind, prevailing in the country before the reformation. if the date of their entry were sought for, i have little doubt but that it would be found to have been about easter. the _sepulchre_ itself was often, i believe, a permanent erection of stone, and some of them probably now remain in the churches of england on the north side of the chancel, where they may sometimes be taken for the tombs of individuals there interred. w.c. trevelyan. _watching the sepulchre._--in reply to "t.w.'s" query in no. ., i have witnessed at florence the custom of dressing the sepulchre on the thursday before good friday with the most beautiful flowers, many of which are reared especially for the purpose. the devout attend at the sepulchre, and make their prayers there throughout the day, the most profound silence being observed. the convents rival each other in the beauty of their decorations. do you think that the churchwardens' entries in fuller can refer to a similar custom? the loveliness of the flowers, and their delightful perfume, which pervades the church, present a most soothing and agreeable type of death and the grave, under their christian phase. i was always at a loss to understand why this was done on thursday, instead of on saturday; the latter being the day on which our lord rested in the sepulchre. a.m. * * * * * queries answered, no. . a new _blunder_ of mr. malone.--i love the memory of edmond malone, albeit he sometimes committed blunders. he committed a pitiable blunder when he broke his bow in shooting at the worthless samuel ireland; and he committed an { } irreparable blunder when he whitewashed the monumental effigy of the matchless shakspere. of the blunder ascribed to him by a reverend querist (no. . p. ) he was quite innocent. before we censure an author or editor, we should consult his _own_ edition. he cannot be answerable for the errors of any other impression. such, at least, is _my_ notion of critical equity. i shall now state the plain facts. malone, in the first instance, printed the spurious declaration of john _shakspear_ in an _imperfect state_. (_plays and poems of w.s._, , vol. i. part ii. p. .) he was soon afterwards enabled to complete it. (ibid. vol. i. part ii. p. .) steevens reprinted it entire, and without comment. (_plays of w.s._, , vol. ii. p. .) now the editor of the irish reimpression, who must have omitted to consult the edition of steevens, merely committed a _blunder_ in attempting to unite the two fragments as first published by mr. malone. there was no _audacious fabrication_ on the occasion--there is no _mystery_ in the case! (no. . p. .) so, to stop the current of misconception, and economise space on future occasions, i venture to repeat a few words in suggesting as a canon of criticism:--_before we censure an author or editor we should consult his_ own _edition_. bolton corney. * * * * * replies to minor queries. _compendyous olde treatyse._--"f.m." (no. . p. .) will find this tract reprinted (with the exception of the preface and verses) in foxe's _acts and monuments_; a portion once peculiar to the first edition of , p. ., but now appearing in the reprint of , vol. iv. p. - ., which may be of some service in the absence of the original tract. novus. _hordys_ (no. . p. .).--i have waited till now in hopes of seeing an answer from some more competent pen than my own to the query as to the meaning of the word "_hordys_," by your correspondent "j.g.;" but having been disappointed, i venture a suggestion which occurred to me immediately on reading it, viz. that "_hordys_" might be some possible or impossible derivation from _hordeum_, and applied "irreverently" to the consecrated host, as though it were no better than a common barley-cake. whether in those early days and in ireland, the host was really made of barley, and whether "hordys" was a name given to some kind of barley-cake then in vogue, or (supposing my suggestion to be well founded) a word coined for the occasion, may perhaps be worthy of investigation. a.r. kenilworth, april . _eachard's tracts._--the rev. george wyatt, who inquires (no. . p. .) about eachard's _tracts_, will probably get all the information he wants from the life of eachard prefixed to the collected edition of his _works_ in three volumes, which i am sorry i have not the means at present of referring to. "i.o.," to whom the last of the tracts is addressed, is dr. john owen. philatus (what objection is there to latinising, in the usual way, the greek termination os?) is, of course, intended for hobbes; and, to convey eachard's opinion of him, his opponent in the dialogue is timothy, a god-honourer. let me add, as you have headed mr. wyatt's communication "tracts attributed to eachard," thereby casting a doubt upon his authorship, that there is no doubt about dr. john eachard being the author of all the tracts which mr. wyatt enumerates; nor was there any concealment by eachard. his authorship of the _grounds and occasions of the contempt of the clergy_ is notorious. the "epistle dedicatory," signed "j.e.," mentioned by mr. wyatt as prefixed to the dialogue on hobbes' _state of nature_, refers also to the five subsequent letters. these were published at the same time with the dialogue on hobbes, in one volume, and are answers to attacks on the _grounds and occasions_, &c. the epistle dedicatory is addressed to gilbert sheldon, archbishop of canterbury, "and," says eachard, "i hope my dialogue will not find the less acceptance with your grace for these letters which follow after." the second edition of the volume i have by me, published in : the title, _mr. hobbes's state of nature considered, &c.; to which are added, five letters from the author of "the grounds and occasions of the contempt of the clergy."_ c. _masters of st. cross._--in reply to "h. edwards" (no. . p. .), a list of the masters of st. cross, i believe, is given in browne willis's _mitred abbies_, vol. i.; but the most correct and perfect list is in the _sketches of hampshire_, by the late john duthy, esq. henry or humfrey de milers is the first master whose name is recorded, and nothing further is known of him: between bishop sherborne and bishop compton there were thirteen masters. f.j.b. has "h. edwards" seen the _history of st. cross hospital_, by mr. moody, published within the last six months? it may materially assist him. john r. fox _a living dog better than a dead lion._--your correspondent "mr. john sansom" may, perhaps, accept the following as an answer to the first part of his query (no. . p. .). in an ancient ms. preserved in the archives of the see of ossory, at fol. ., is entered, in a hand of the latter part of the fourteenth century, a list of ancient proverbs under the following heading:-- { } "eux sount les proverbes en fraunceys conferme par auctorite del _dibil_? "chers amys receiuez de moy un beau present q vo' envoy, non pas dor ne dargent mais de bon enseignment, que en escriptur ai trove e de latin translatee, &c. &c." amongst them is the following:-- "meux valt un chien sein e fort qe un leoun freid e mort; e meux valt povert od bountex qe richeste od malueiste." jesus, the son of sirak, is not, however, the authority for this proverb; it occurs in the th chapter of ecclesiastes and th verse. and now, to ask a question in turn, what is meant by "auctorite _del dibil_?" james graves. kilkenny. _monumental brass_ (no. . p. .).--on the floor of the thorncombe church, in the co. of devon, is a splendid brass, representing sir t. brooke, and joan, his wife, dated respectively and . at the lower corner of the lady's robe is engraven a small dog, with a collar and bells. may not these figures be the private mark of the artist? s.s.s. _the wickliffite version of the scriptures._--i have in my possession a very fair ms. of wickliff's translation of the new testament; and should the editors of the wickliffite versions like to see my ms., and let me know to whom i may send it, i shall be happy to lend it them. daniel rock. buckland, faringdon. _hever_ (pp. . .).--in confirmation of the meaning assigned to this word, there is an estate near westerham, in kent, called "hever's-wood." s.s.s. _steward family_ (no. . p. .).--though not an answer to his question, "o.c." may like to be informed that the arms of the impalement in the drawing which he describes are (according to izacke's _exeter_) those which were borne by ralph taxall, sheriff of devon, in . pole calls him texshall. modern heralds give the coat to pecksall of westminster. if a conjecture may be hazarded, i would suggest that the coat was a modification of the ancient arms of batishull: a crosslet in saltier, between four owls. s.s.s. _gloves_ (no. . p. .).--in connection with the subject of the presentation of gloves, i would refer your correspondents to the curious scene in vicar's _parliamentary chronicle_, where "master prynne," on his visit to archbishop laud in the tower in may , accepts "a fair pair of gloves, upon the archbishop's extraordinary pressing importunity;" a present which, under the disagreeable circumstances of the interview, seems to have been intended to convey an intimation beyond that of mere courtesy. s.s.s. _cromlech._--as your learned correspondent "dr. todd" (no. . p. .) queries this word, i think it is very doubtful whether the word was in use, or not, before the period mentioned ( th century). dr. owain pughe considered the word "cromlech" (_crwm-llech_, an inclined or flat stone,) to be merely a popular name, having no reference to the original purpose of the structure. the only triadic name that will apply to the cromlechs, is _maen ketti_ (stone chests, or arks), the raising of which is described as one of "the three mighty labours of the isle of britain." gomer. _watewich_ (pp. . . .).--may not "watewich" be waterbeach? s.s.s. "_by hook or by crook._"--i imagine that the expression "by hook or by crook" is in very general use throughout england. it was familiar to my ear forty years ago in surrey, and within these four years its origin was (to my satisfaction at the moment) brought home to my comprehension in the north of devon, where the tenant of a certain farm informed me that, by an old custom, he was entitled to take wood from some adjoining land "_by hook and crook_;" which, on inquiry, i understood to include, first, so much underwood as he could cut with the _hook_ or bill, and, secondly, so much of the branches of trees as he could pull down with the aid of a _crook_. whether this crook originally meant the shepherd's crook (a very efficient instrument for the purpose), or simply such a _crook_-ed _stick_ as boys use for gathering hazel-nuts, is not very material. it seems highly probable that, in the vast forests which once overspread this country, the right of taking "_fire bote_" by "hook or crook" was recognised; and we can hardly wish for a more apt illustration of the idea of gaining a desired object by the ordinary means--"a hook," if it lay close to our hand; or, by a method requiring more effort, "a crook," if it were a little beyond our reach. j.a.s. _by hook or by crook_ (pp. , . . &c.).--in confirmation of this phrase having reference to forest customs, my hind told me that my plantations were plundered by hook or by crook, and he and i once caught a man in _flagrante delicto_, with a hook for cutting green wood, and a crook at the end of a long pole for breaking off dry branches, which could not be otherwise reached. for an early use of the term, see bacon's _fortress of the faithful_, . "whatsoever is pleasant or profitable must be theirs by hook or by crook." s.s.s. { } _tablet to napoleon._--will it assist "emdee's" interpretation of the inscription to napoleon (no. p. .) if i suggest that it may mean--Ægyptiaco bis, italico semper invicto? c.i.r. feb. . _lines on pharaoh_ (no. . p. .).--i beg to inform "j.t.," that the well-known _couplet_ about pharaoh, and _rascal_ rhyming to _pascal_, are from a certain _history of the bible_, or _bible history_, by the rev. dr. zachary boyd, of todrig, who was either principal or professor of divinity at glasgow in the seventeenth century. he left considerable property to the college there, on condition that his bust should be placed in the quadrangle, and his great work printed under the care of the academical senatus. the bust was placed accordingly, and is, or lately was, to be seen in a niche over the inner doorway. the _history_ was also printed, it is said, but never published. however, curious visitors have always, i believe, been allowed a peep into it--whether the ms. or the solitary printed book, i am not sure--and a few choice morsels are current. i recollect one stave of the lamentation of jonah-- "lord! what a doleful place is this! there's neither coal nor candle; and nothing i but fishes' tripes and greasy guts do bandle." i think it a shame that the maitland club of glasgow has not, ere now, volunteered an edition of zachary's immortal performance. the _senatus_ would hardly object (if the expense were undertaken), as the circulation would be confined to true scots. philobodius. [the following communication from a very competent authority, and the very passage quoted by "philobodius" himself, quite justify the non-publication of zachary's doggrel.] _zachary boyd_ (no. . p. .).--your notice of zachary boyd, and his extraordinary paraphrase of the bible in the college at glasgow, has reminded me of my having examined that strange work, and found ample cause for its not being published, though a sufficient sum was bequeathed for that purpose. the whole doggrel is only calculated to bring ridicule and contempt upon the scriptures; but there are, besides, passages such as refer to job's "curse god, and die;" to jeshuram waxing fat; to jonah in the whale's belly; and other parts, which utterly unfit the ms. for decent perusal. w. jerdan. _welsh ambassador._--the origin of the word "welsh," from the saxon "wealh," a stranger, and the use of it in this sense by our old writers (see brady's _introd._, p. .: sir t. smith's _commonwealth of england_, chap. xiii.), sufficiently explain this designation of the cuckoo, the temporary resident of our cold climate, and the ambassador _extraordinary_ in the revolutions of the seasons, in the words of the nursery rhymes,-- "she comes as a _stranger_, and stays three months in the year." "quid tibi vis aliud dicam? me _vox mea prodit_." _alciati, emblema_ lx. _cuculi, comment_. t.j. _prince madoc._--i was much gratified on reading "t.t.'s" note, commenting on my observations respecting the mandan language, as he proves the existence of celtic words amongst the american indians. regarding "t.t.'s" doubts as to the mandans being descended from the followers of madoc, i confess that my opinions on the point do not differ very widely from his own. the circumstances attending madoc's emigration, in the paucity of its numbers and the entire separation from the mother country, with the character of the indians, would almost ensure the ultimate destruction of the settlement, or the ultimate absorption of its remains by those who might have had friendly relations with the welsh. in this most favourable view, the evidences of the presence of the welsh seven centuries since would be few indeed at the present day. the most striking circumstance of this nature that i met with in mr. catlin's work, is a description of what he calls a "bull-boat," from its being covered with a bull's hide, which, in construction and form, is perfectly identical with the welsh "_cwrygl_." yet, strong as this resemblance is, it will have but little weight if unsupported by other evidence. in conclusion, i would observe, that i never supposed prince madoc to be the discover of america, but that his voyage was induced by the knowledge that other lands existed in the great ocean (_see_ humboldt's _examen critique_). the emblems found in america, and said to be crosses, are obviously the _tau_ [cross symbol], or symbol of life, and can have no connection with christianity. gomer. _poghell_ (no. . p. .).--in cornwall and devon there are places called poughill or poghill,--in _domesday_, pochelle; and in the _taxatio ecclesiastica_, pockehulle and pogheheulle. the etymology of the word, i take to be merely the addition (as is often found) of the anglo-saxon _hill_, or _hull_, to the old teutonic word pock, or pok, an eruption or protrusion. in low latin, pogetum is colliculus. (see ducange.) s.s.s. _swingeing tureen_ (no. . p. ., and no. . p. .).--how could "seleucus" "conclude" that goldsmith's "poor beau tibbs and kitty his wife," should have had "a _silver_ tureen" of expensive construction? it is evident that "kitty's" husband, in the "haunch of venison," was the beau tibbs of the "citizen of the world." there can be no doubt that, however the word be spelled, { } the meaning is _swingeing_, "huge, great," which i admit was generally, if not always, in those days spelled swinging, as in johnson--"_swinging_, from _swinge, huge, great_;" but which ought to be, as it is pronounced, _swingeing_. _tureen_ (pp. . . .).--"and instead of soup in a china terrene." (knox, essay _works_. vol. ii. p. .) s.s.s. _"a" or "an."--quem deus vult perdere._--allow me to refer your correspondents "priscian" and "e.s. jackson" (of no. .), to the _selections from the gentleman's magazine_, london, , vol. ii. pp. . and ., for some interesting papers on the subjects of their respective inquiries. the paper first referred to, at p. ., is certainly well worth perusal, as the writer, "kuster," has examined the question with considerable care, and proves, by many curious instances, that most of those whom we have been taught to look up to as the greatest authorities in english writing--dryden, swift, pope, johnson, and others--seem to have had no fixed rule on the subject, but to have used "a" or "an" before the same words with the most reckless inconsistency. the second paper, at p. ., gives a more detailed account of the adage, "quem deus (potius _jupiter_) vult perdere," &c., than "f.c.b." (whose object, of course, was rather to compare _results_ than to trace _derivations_) has supplied in his interesting communication. c. forbes. * * * * * miscellaneous. notes on books, catalogues, sales, etc. such of our readers as do not possess halliwell's _dictionary of archaic and provincial words_, which mr. way, a very competent authority, lately designated in our columns as mr. halliwell's "useful glossarial collections," will be glad to learn that mr. russell smith has announced a second and cheaper edition of it. the new number of the _archæological journal_ is a very interesting one. that portion if it, more particularly, which relates the proceedings of the meetings of the archæological institute, contains a great mass of curious and valuable information; made the more available and instructive by means of the admirable woodcuts by which it is illustrated. we have received several curious communications on the subject of parish registers, with reference to the article on "early statistics," and the "registers of chart, kent," to which we shall endeavour to give early insertion. we have also received a copy of _a letter addressed to r. monckton milnes, esq. m.p., on the condition and unsafe state of ancient parochial registers in england and the colonies_, to which we beg to direct the attention of such of our friends as take an interest in this important subject. messrs. puttick and simpson, of . piccadilly, will sell on monday, the th instant, and three following days, a selection from the valuable library of the rev. dr. maitland. although only a selection from the library of the learned historian of the dark ages, the catalogue exhibits, in addition to numerous polyglot and other important editions of the scriptures, and the great collections of baronius, mabillon, dupin, martene, and durand, &c., a vast number of works of the highest value in the departments of theology and ecclesiastical history. we have received the following catalogues:--part iii. for of j. russell smith's ( . old compton street) catalogue of books and autographs, chiefly old and curious. part ii. for of a catalogue of choice, useful, and interesting books, in fine condition, on sale by waller and son ( . fleet street). * * * * * books and odd volumes wanted to purchase. (_in continuation of lists in former nos._) sacred songs, duets, and trios, words by thomas moore; music by stephenson and moore. power, strand. sir peter pett's discourse of the growth of england, &c. (being the nd edition of the "happy future of england.") monk's letters relating to the restoration, published by toland, - . lady russell's letters, edited by miss berry. du quesne's account of bourbon, published in holland about . voyage de l'arabie heureuse par l'ocean oriental et le detroit de la mer rouge, mo. paris, . south african quarterly journal, vo. cape town, (all that is published). odd volumes humboldt's cosmos, nos. forming vol. i. of longman's st edition, - . perussac's bulletin des sciences naturelles, vols. xix. to xxvii., paris, - . southey's poetical works, vols. ix. and x. langard's history of england, mo. edition of . vols. v. to ix. (both inclusive). penny cyclopÆdia. monthly parts , to (both inclusive), , , , , , to (both inclusive). letters, stating particulars and lowest price, _carriage free_, to be sent to mr. bell, publisher of "notes and queries," . fleet street. * * * * * notices to correspondents. adolphus' history of england. "indacator" _is informed that the continuation of this work is proceeding with, as fast as mr. l. adolphus' professional duties will admit; and we are sure that gentleman would at all times readily explain, to those entitled to ask him what progress has been made in it_. _our numerous correspondents will, we trust, excuse our specially acknowledging the receipt of their various communications, and agree with us in the propriety of economising our limited room, so as to insert rather than acknowledge the articles with which they have favoured us._ _a third edition of nos. , , , and ., forming part i., is reprinted, so that complete sets of our work may again be had._ * * * * * { } theological and miscellaneous library of the rev. s.r. maitland, dd., a noble mahogany bookcase, &c. puttick and simpson, auctioneers of literary property, will sell by auction, at their great room . piccadilly, on monday, april ., and three following days, the library of the rev. s.r. maitland, d.d.; consisting of versions of the scared scriptures, a fine copy of walton's polyglott (with the republican variations in the preface), critical and expository works, best editions of the works of the fathers of the church, ecclesiastical history, councils canon law, and miscellaneous literature. catalogues are now ready, and will be sent on application. * * * * * on a large sheet, price s. d. plain; s. richly coloured; in case s. d. plain; s. coloured. a chart of ancient armour, from the eleventh to the seventeenth centuries; containing eighteen figures, with a description and a sketch of the progress of european armour. by john hewitt. "a graphic outline of the subject of military costume during the period of its greatest interest to the english antiquary. the author has made a judicious selection of the examples, chiefly from the rich series of monumental effigies; and, in the brief text which accompanies these illustrations, a useful resumé will be found of a subject which, not many years since was attainable only through the medium of costly publications."--_archæological journal._ george bell, . fleet street. * * * * * the primÆval antiquities of england illustrated by those of denmark. the primÆval antiquities of denmark. by j.j.a. worsaae, member of the royal society of antiquaries of copenhagen. translated and applied to the illustration of similar remains in england, by william j. thoms, f.s.a., secretary of the camden society. with numerous woodcuts. vo. s. d. "the best antiquarian handbook we have eve met with--so clear is its arrangement and so well and so plainly is each subject illustrated by well-executed engravings.... it is the joint production of two men who have already distinguished themselves as authors and antiquarians."--_morning herald._ "a book of remarkable interest and ability.... mr. worsaae's book is in all ways a valuable addition to our literature.... mr. thoms has executed the translation in flowing an idiomatic english, and has appended many curious and interesting notes and observations of his own."--_guardian._ "this work, which we desire to commend to the attention of our readers, is signally interesting to the british antiquary. highly interesting and important work."--_archæological journal._ see also _gentleman's magazine_ for february, . john henry parker, oxford, and . strand. london. * * * * * nearly ready. choice examples of the workmanship selected from the exhibition of ancient and mediÆval art at the society of arts a prospectus, containing a specimen of the illustrations, will be sent on receipt of two postage stamps. joseph cundall, . old bond street. * * * * * the shakespeare society.--the ninth annual meeting of the society will be held on friday next, the th inst., at the rooms of the royal society of literature, no. . st. martin's place, trafalgar square, at which the attendance of subscribers is earnestly solicited. the chair will be taken a three o'clock precisely. by order of the council, f.g. tomlins, secretary agent to the society, mr. skeffington, no. . piccadilly. * * * * * the church warder and domestic magazine contains theological, historical and moral papers, besides amusing and instructive tales. price twopence. published by groombridge and sons, paternoster row, on the first of every month. * * * * * royal mo., cloth s.; morocco (hayday), s. selden's table talk royal mo., price s. d. cloth, s. d. morocco (hayday). the temple, sacred poems, and private ejaculations. by george herbert. also, by the same author, price s. cloth, s. morocco (hayday). a priest to the temple; or, the country parson: his character, and rule of holy life, &c. london: george bell, fleet street. leicester: j.s. crossley. * * * * * next week, vol. vo., with etched frontispiece, by wehnert, and eight engravings, price s. sabrinÆ corolla: a volume of classical translations with original compositions contributed by gentlemen educated at shrewsbury school. among the contributors are the head masters of shewsbury, stamford, repton, uppingham, and birmingham schools; andrew lawson, esq., late m.p.; the rev. r. shilleto, cambridge; the rev. t.s. evans, rugby; j. riddell, esq., fellow of baliol college, oxford; the rev. e.m. cope, h.j. hodgson, esq., h.a.j. munro, esq., w.g. clark, esq., fellows of trinity college, cambridge, and many other distinguished scholars from both universities. the work is edited by three of the principal contributors. folio, price s. the choral responses and litanies of the united church of england and ireland. collected from authentic sources. by the rev. john jebb, a.m., rector of peterstow. the present work contains a full collection of the harmonized compositions of ancient date, including nine sets of pieces and responses, and fifteen litanies, with a few of the more ancient psalm chants. they are given in full score, and in their proper cliffs. in the upper part, however, the treble is substituted for the "cantus" or "medius" cliff: and the whole work is so arranged as to suit the library of the musical student, and to be fit for use in the choir. memoirs of music. by the hon. roger north, attorney-general to james i. now first printed from the original ms. and edited, with copious notes, by edward f. rimbault, l.l.d., f.s.a., &c. &c. quarto; with a portrait; handsomely printed in to.; half-bound in morocco, s. this interesting ms., so frequently alluded to by dr. burney in the course of his "history of music," has been kindly placed at the disposal of the council of the musical antiquarian society, by george townshend smith, esq., organist of hereford cathedral. but the council, not feeling authorised to commence a series of literary publications, yet impressed with the value of the work, have suggested its independent publication to their secretary, dr. rimbault, under whose editorial care it accordingly appears. it abounds with interesting musical anecdotes; the greek fables respecting the origin of music; the rise and progress of musical instruments; the early musical drama; the origin of our present fashionable concerts; the first performance of the beggar's opera, &c. a limited number having been printed, few copies remain for sale: unsold copies will shortly be raised in price to l. s. d. london: george bell, . fleet street. * * * * * printed by thomas clark shaw, of no. . new street square, at no. . new street square, in the parish of st. bride, in the city of london; and published by george bell, of no. . fleet street, in the parish of st. dunstan in the west, in the city of london, publisher, at no. . fleet street aforesaid.--saturday, april . . public domain material generously made available by the google books library project (http://books.google.com/) note: project gutenberg has the other two volumes of this work. volume i: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ volume iii: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ images of the original pages are available through the the google books library project. see http://books.google.com/books?vid=asycaaaayaaj&id the monarchs of the main; or, adventures of the buccaneers. by george w. thornbury, esq. "one foot on sea and one on shore, to one thing constant never." much ado about nothing. in three volumes. vol. ii. london: hurst and blackett, publishers, successors to henry colburn, , great marlborough street. . london: sercombe and jack, great windmill street. contents of vol. ii. chapter i.--sir henry morgan. son of a welsh farmer--runs to sea--turns buccaneer--joins mansvelt and takes the island of st. catherine--mansvelt dies--st. catherine re-taken by the spaniards--morgan takes port au prince--quarrel of french and english adventurers about a marrow-bone--takes porto bello--captures _le cerf volant_, a french vessel--it blows up--takes maracaibo---city deserted--tortures an idiot beggar--le picard, his guide--takes gibraltar--also deserted--tortures the citizens--with a fire-ship destroys the spanish fleet and repasses the bar--escapes the fort by a stratagem--the rancheria expedition--sails for panama--captain bradley takes the castle of chagres--anecdote of a wounded buccaneer chapter ii.--conquest of panama. march from chagres over the isthmus--famine--ambuscades of indians--wild bulls driven down upon them--victory in the savannah--battle of the forts--takes the city--burns part of it--cruelties--revels--virtue of the spanish prisoner, and her sufferings--retreats with prisoners--ransom--divisions of booty--treason of morgan--escapes by night to jamaica--dispersion of his fleet--morgan's subsequent fate chapter iii.--the companions and successors of morgan. oexmelin's interview with the old buccaneer--adventure with indians--esquemeling's escapes--d'ogeron's escape from the spaniards--buccaneers' fight in tobago against the dutch--captain cook captures a spanish vessel--captains coxen and sharp begin their cruise chapter iv.--the cruises of sawkins and sharp. the south sea now visited--buccaneers land at darien--march overland--take santa maria--sail to panama--ringrose is wrecked--failure of expedition--driven off by spanish fleet--partial victory--coxen accused of cowardice--sharp elected commander, deposed--plunder hillo and take la serena--take arica--sharp re-elected--retreat with difficulty--conspiracy of the prisoners--land at antigua--return to england--sharp's trial for piracy--seizes a french ship in the downs--returns to jamaica chapter v.--dampier's voyages. dampier leaves captain sharp--land march over the isthmus--joins captain wright--wreck of d'estrèes and the french fleet--returns to england--second voyage--with captain cook--guinea coast--visits juan fernandez--takes ampalla--plunders paita--scheme for working the spanish mines--attacks manilla galleon--captain swan--dampier's death unknown--van horn, a dutch sailor--entraps the galleons--takes vera cruz--killed in a duel with de graff--his dress monarchs of the main. chapter i. sir henry morgan. son of a farmer--runs to sea--turns buccaneer--joins mansvelt, and takes the island of st. catherine--mansvelt dies--st. catherine retaken by the spaniards--takes port-au-prince--quarrel of french and english buccaneers about a marrow-bone--takes porto bello--captures _le cerf volant_, a french vessel--it blows up--takes maracaibo--city deserted--tortures an idiot--le picard--storms gibraltar--also deserted--tortures the citizens--with a fire-ship destroys spanish fleet, and repasses the bar--escapes by stratagem--rancheria expedition--sails for panama--captain bradley takes the castle of chagres--anecdote of wounded buccaneer. morgan's campaigns furnish one of the amplest chapters of buccaneer history. equally daring, but less cruel than lolonnois, less fanatical than montbars, and less generous and honest than de lussan or sharp, he appears to have been the only freebooting leader who obtained any formal recognition from the english government. from an old pamphlet, we find, that the expedition to panama was undertaken under the commission and with the full approbation of the english governor of jamaica. sir henry morgan was the son of a welsh farmer, of easy circumstances, "as most who bear that name in wales are known to be," says esquemeling, his dutch historian. taking an early dislike to the monotonous, unadventurous life of his father's house, he ran away from home, and, coming to the coast, turned sailor, and went to sea. embarking on board a vessel bound for barbadoes, that lay with several others in the port, he engaged himself in the usual way to a planter's agent, who resold him for three years immediately on his arrival in the west indies. having served his time and obtained his hard-earned liberty, he repaired to jamaica, a place of which wild stories were told all over the main. he resolved to seek his fortune at that el dorado, and arriving there, saw two buccaneer vessels just fitting out for an expedition. being now in search of employment, and finding this suit his daring and restless spirit, he determined to embrace the life of a flibustier. the gentlemen of fortune were successful, and had not been long at sea before they took a valuable prize. this early success was as fatal to morgan as good luck is to a young gambler on his first visit to a hell. it roused his ambition, heightened his hope, and encouraged him to continue a career so auspiciously begun. he followed the buccaneer chiefs, and learnt their manners of living. in the course of only three or four voyages, he signalized himself so much as to acquire the reputation of a good soldier, remarkable for his valour and success. he was a good shot, and renowned for his intrepidity, coolness, and determination. he seemed to foresee all contingencies, and set about his schemes with a firm confidence that insured their success. having already laid by much money, and being fortunate both in his voyages and in gambling, morgan agreed with a few rich comerades to join stock, and to buy a vessel, of which he was unanimously appointed commander. such was the usual beginning of an adventurer's career. setting out from jamaica, he soon became remarkable for the number of prizes which he took, his well known stations being round the coast of campeachy. with these prizes he returned triumphantly to jamaica, his name established as a terror to the spaniard, and a war-cry to the english. finding mansvelt, an old buccaneer, lying in harbour, about to start on a grand expedition to the mainland, he joined him, and was at once elected as vice-admiral of a small fleet of fifteen vessels and men, part english and part french. they sailed first to the island of st. catherine, near the continent of costa rica, and distant about thirty-five degrees from the river of chagres. here they made their first descent, and found the spaniards well entrenched in forts, strongly built of hewn stone, but landing most of their men they soon forced the garrisons to surrender. morgan distinguished himself remarkably in this expedition, forcing even his very enemies to laud his skill and valour. he now proceeded to demolish all the castles but one, in which he placed men, and the slaves and prisoners, and proceeded to attack a small neighbouring island. in a few days they threw over a bridge to join it to st. catherine's, and conveyed over it all the larger ordnance which they had taken, laying waste their first conquest with fire and sword. they then set sail again, having first set their prisoners ashore near portobello, intending to cruise along costa rica, as far as the river colla, and burn and pillage all the towns up to nata. they had, in fact, only taken the island in order to procure a guide who could lead them on their way to nata, knowing that the spaniards used st. catherine's as a depôt for their prisoners of all nations. the first step towards a buccaneer expedition was to procure a guide. they found, to their delight, a mulatto who knew nata, and who undertook to lead them to the destruction of a people whom he hated. it is probable, too, that mansvelt had already projected founding a colony at st. catherine's, which might be neither dependent on the french nor the english. but their schemes were frustrated, for the governor of panama, hearing of their approach, and of their past success, advanced to meet them with a body of men, and compelled them to retreat suddenly, for the whole country was now alarmed and their plans all known. morgan, however, seeing st. catherine's to be a well-fortified island, easily defended, and important as to situation, because its harbour was good and near the spanish settlements, resolved to hold it, appointing as governor le sieur simon, a frenchman, whom he left behind, with a garrison of men. st. simon had behaved well in his absence, and put the island in a good posture of defence, had strengthened the four large forts, and turned the smaller island into a citadel, guarding carefully the three accessible spots, planting vegetables and clearing plantations in the smaller island, where abundance of fresh water could be procured, providing victual enough for the fleet for two voyages. the two commanders now determined to return to jamaica, promising to send recruits to simon, for fear of an invasion, and themselves to bring speedy succours, intending to make the island a sanctuary and refuge for the brotherhood of both nations. the governor of jamaica refused to accede to mansvelt's requests for soldiers, afraid to weaken the forces of the island without permission from england. mansvelt, worn out with delay, hastened to tortuga, and died while collecting volunteers, his plans being still in embryo. had his scheme succeeded, and been pushed with energy, the buccaneers might have founded a republic, and have eventually driven the spaniards out of the indies. while simon was impatiently expecting succour from jamaica, and astonished at mansvelt's really unavoidable silence, the spaniards were preparing to smoke out the wasps' nest that lay so dangerously near their orchard. a new governor of costa rica threw unusual decision into their plans. fearing they should lose the indies piecemeal, they resolved to crush the evil ere it grew indestructible. don juan perez de guzman equipped a fleet of four vessels with fifty or sixty men each, commanded by don joseph sancho ximenes, major-general of the garrison of porto bello. don juan, in a letter to simon, promised him a reward if he would surrender the island to his catholic majesty, and threatened him with punishment if he resisted. simon, seeing the impossibility and uselessness of resistance, surrendered it after a few shots, on the same condition with which morgan had obtained it from the enemy. the spaniards made much of their victory, publishing "a true relation and particular account of the victory obtained by the arms of his catholic majesty, against the english pirates, by the direction and valour of don juan perez de guzman, knight of the order of st. james, governor and captain-general of terra firma, and the province of veraguas." the account goes on to describe the arrival of fourteen english vessels on the coast, , their arrival at puerto de naos, and the capture of st. catherine's from the governor, don estevan del campo, the enemy landing unperceived. upon this the valorous don juan called a council of war, wherein he declared the great progress the said pirates had made in the dominions of his catholic majesty, and propounded, "that it was absolutely necessary to send some forces to the isle of st. catherine, sufficient to retake it from the pirates, the honour and interest of his majesty of spain being very narrowly concerned herein, otherwise the pirates, by such conquests, might _easily_, in course of time, possess themselves of 'all the countries thereabout.'" the less vapouring, or more pacific, ingeniously proposed to leave the pirates alone till they perished for want of provisions, but don juan, overruling their timidity, sent stores to the militia of porto bello, and conveyed himself there, with no small danger of his life. at this port he found the _st. vincent_, a good ship, belonging to the negro company, which he equipped with a crew of soldiers, thirty-seven prisoners, thirty-two of the spanish garrison, twenty-nine mulattos of panama, twelve indian archers, seven gunners, two lieutenants, two pilots, a surgeon, and a franciscan chaplain. before they set sail, don juan (_who did not go with them_) encouraged them to fight against the enemies of their country and their religion, "those inhuman pirates who had committed so many horrid cruelties upon the subjects of his catholic majesty," promising liberal rewards to all who behaved themselves well in the service of their king and country. at carthagena, they received a reinforcement of one frigate, one galleon, a boat, and men. on arriving at the island, the pirates discharged three guns, refused to surrender, and declared they preferred to lose their lives. the next day three negro deserters, swimming to the admiral, told him there were only seventy-two men on the island, and two days after the day of the assumption the spaniards landed and commenced the affray. the _st. vincent_ attacked the conception battery, the _st. peter_ the st. james's forts, the pirates driving off many of the enemy by loading their guns with part of the pipes of a church organ, threescore pipes at a time. the pirates lost six men before surrendering, the spaniards one. they found in the island lbs. of powder, and lbs. of bullets. two spanish deserters, discovered amongst the prisoners, were "shot to death" the next day. the prisoners were transported to puerto velo, all but three, who, by order of the governor, were kept as a trophy, like chained samsons, to work in the castle of st. jerome at panama, a fortress building by the governor at his own expense. a day or two after this unavoidable surrender, a vessel arrived at st. catherine, bringing reinforcements and provisions from the governor of jamaica, who had repented of his rejection of mansvelt's proposal, but had not even yet the courage to be boldly dishonest. the spaniards, hoisting an english flag, persuaded simon to welcome it, and betray it into their hands. there were fourteen men on board and two women, all of whom were made prisoners. on the death of mansvelt, morgan became without opposition the leader of all the adventurers of jamaica. he at once published far and wide his intention of setting out on a grand expedition, and named cuba as a rendezvous, st. catherine's not being far distant. morgan had been no less anxious than mansvelt to make this island a fortress and a storehouse. he had written to the merchants of virginia and new england, to contract with them for ammunition and provisions; but this hope being ended by the spanish conquest, he felt himself free to embark on a wider and more ambitious field. his plans were for a moment defeated, but his courage and ambition were not a whit humbled. two months spent in the southern ports of cuba sufficed him to collect a fleet of twelve sail, with fighting men, part english, part french, resolved to follow him to the death. to prevent the disunion so frequent between the two nations, morgan had a clause inserted in the charter-party, empowering him to condemn to instant death any adventurer who killed or wounded another. a council was then called to decide on what place they should first fall. some proposed santiago, which had been before sacked, others a swoop on the tobacco of the havannah, or the dye-woods of campeachy. many voices were strong for a night assault on the havannah, which, they said, could be taken before the castle could be ready to defend itself. the very ransom of the clergy they might carry off, would be worth more than the pillage of a smaller town. but some buccaneers, who had been prisoners there, said nothing could be done with less than men, and the proposal was abandoned, when they proved that they must first go to the island de los pinos, and land in small boats at matamana, fourteen leagues from the city. at last some one proposed a visit to port-au-prince, a town of cuba, very rich from its traffic in hides, and which, being far inland and built on a plain, could be very easily surprised. the speaker knew the city well, and was sure that it never had been sacked. despairing of collecting forces enough to attempt the havannah, they pursued the spaniard's plan. morgan at once acceded to this scheme, and, giving the captain the signal of weighing anchor, steered for port st. mary, the nearest harbour to port-au-prince. the night of their arrival in the bay a spanish prisoner threw himself into the sea, and swimming on shore went to inform the governor of the buccaneers' plans, having, with a scanty knowledge of english, gathered a full insight, deeper than history tells us, of morgan's intentions. the governor instantly sent to the neighbouring town for succour, and collected, in a few hours, a force of armed freemen and slaves, occupying a pass which the buccaneers must traverse. he cut down the trees, barricaded the approaches, and planned eight ambuscades, strengthened by cannon to play upon them on their march. he then marched out into a savannah, where he might see the buccaneers at a long distance. the townsmen, in the meanwhile, prepared for the worst with the usual timidity of the rich, hiding their riches and carrying away their movables. the adventurers, on entering the place, found the paths almost impassable with trees, but, supposing themselves discovered, took to the woods, and thus fortunately escaped the ambuscade. the governor, seeing the enemy, to his astonishment, emerge from the trees into the plain, instantly ordered his cavalry to surround them as he would have done a troop of wolves, intending to disperse them first with his horse and then pursue them with his main body. the buccaneers, nothing daunted by the flashing of the spears or the tramp of the horsemen, advanced boldly, with drums beating and colours displayed. they drew up in a semicircle to receive the charge, and advanced swiftly towards the enemy, not waiting to be attacked. the spaniards charged them hotly for a while, but, finding their enemies dexterous at their arms, moving their feet forward rather than backward; and seeing their governor and many of their companions dead at their feet, fled headlong to the town; those who escaped towards the wood were killed before they could reach it. the buccaneers with few men either killed or wounded, advancing still in their phalanx, killed without mercy all they met, for the space of the four hours that the fight lasted. the fugitives of the town barred themselves in their houses and kept up a fire from the windows and loopholes. the shots from the roofs and balconies still continuing, though the town was taken, the buccaneers threatened, if the firing did not cease, to set the town in a flame, and cut the women and children in pieces before the eyes of the survivors. having thus silenced all resistance, morgan drove all his prisoners, men, women, children, and slaves, into the cathedral, where he placed a guard. he then gave the town over to pillage, for the benefit of his joint-stock company, finding much that was valuable, but little money, so skilful had the spaniards grown in hiding. parties were next sent out, as usual, to plunder the suburbs, and bring in provisions and prisoners for the torture. the revelry then began, while the prisoners were allowed to starve in the churches; old women and children were daily tortured to make them disclose where their money was hidden. the monks had been the first to fly from the english heretics, but bands of them were frequently captured in the woods, and thrown, half dead with fear, to confess the dying in the prisons. when pillage and provisions grew scanty, and they themselves began to feel the privations they had inflicted on others, the buccaneers resolved to depart, after fifteen days' residence, a favourite time with the brotherhood. they now demanded a double ransom of their chief prisoners; first, for themselves, under pain of being transported to jamaica; and secondly, for the town, or it would be burned to the ground. four merchants were chosen to collect the contributions, and some spaniards were first tortured in their presence, to increase the zeal of their applications. after a few days, they returned empty-handed, and demanded a respite of fifteen days, which morgan granted. they had searched all the woods, they said, and found none of their countrymen. delay now grew dangerous--a party of foragers had captured a negro, with letters from the governor of santiago, telling the citizens not to make too much haste to pay the ransom, but to put off the pirates with excuses till he could come to their aid. enraged at what he deemed treachery, morgan swore he would have no more delay, and would burn the town the next day if the ransom was not paid down, but not alluding to the detected letter, and betraying no apprehension. still unable to obtain money, morgan consented to take oxen, which he insisted on the spaniards placing on board his ships at port-au-prince, together with salt enough to "powder" them, needing the flesh to re-victual for a fresh and more profitable expedition. the same day morgan left the city, taking with him six of the principal citizens as hostages. the next day came the cattle, but he now required the spaniards to assist him in killing and salting them. this was done in a great hurry, morgan expecting every moment the santiago vessels would appear in sight. as soon as the butchering was completed he released his hostages and set sail, unwilling to fight when nothing could be gained by victory. at this juncture, the smouldering jealousy of the two nations that formed his crews broke into a flame. the grudges of the last voyage had been perpetuated, and had grown into a deep and lasting feud, producing ultimately a disunion fatal to all increase of the power of the brotherhood of the coast. while the prisoners were toiling at salting the beeves, the sailors employed themselves in drinking and rejoicing at their success, cooking the richest morsels while they were still fresh, and all hands intent on securing the hot marrow bones, the favourite delicacy of the hunters of hispaniola. a frenchman, employed as one of the butchers, had drawn out the dainty and placed it by his side, as a _bonne bouche_ when his work was over. an english buccaneer, more hungry than polite, passing by, and knowing no reservation of property in such a republic, snatched up the reeking bone and carried it off. the frenchman, pursuing him with angry vociferations, challenged him to fight for it, but before they could reach the place of combat, the aggressor stabbed his adversary in the back, and laid him dead on the spot. the frenchmen, rising in arms, made it a national quarrel, and demanded redress. morgan, just and impartial by nature and from policy, arrested the murderer and condemned him to be instantly shot, declaring that he had a right to challenge his adversary, but not to stab him treacherously. oexmelin says, the man was sent in chains to jamaica (and there tried and hung), morgan promising to see justice done upon him. the french, however, remained discontented, lamented the fate of their comrade, and vowed revenge. morgan, not waiting for the governor of jamaica to share his spoil, sailed to a small island, at some distance, to make the dividend. to the general grief and disgust, they found the whole amounted to only , crowns, not enough to pay their debts at jamaica: this did not include the silk stuffs and other merchandise, which gave a poor pittance of crowns to each man, as the return for so much danger and privation. morgan, as unwilling as the rest to revisit port royal empty-handed, proposed a new expedition, in search of a greater prize. but the french, not able to agree with the english, left the fleet, in spite of all their commander's persuasions, but still with every external mark of friendship, entreating to the last to have justice done to the "_infame_." morgan, who had always placed great reliance on the courage of the french adventurers, was not going to relinquish his new expedition on account of their desertion. he had inspired his men with courage and the hope of acquiring riches, and they all resolved to follow him to the attack of the place, whose name he would not yet disclose, exciting them by a mystery, which prevented the possibility of treachery. he put forth to sea with eight small vessels, but was soon joined by an adventurer of jamaica, just returning from campeachy; with this new ally, he had now a force of nine vessels and men, many french being still among them, and arrived at costa rica with all his fleet safe. as soon as they sighted land, he disclosed his design to his captains, and soon after to all his seamen. he intended to storm porto bello by night, and to put the whole city to the sack: he was confident of success, because no one knew of his secret; although some of his men thought their force too small for such an enterprise. to these morgan replied, that if their number was small, their courage was great, and the fewer they were the more booty for each, with the greater prospect of union and secresy; and upon this, all agreed unanimously to the design. by good fortune, or by preconcerted arrangement, one of morgan's crew turned out to be an englishman who, only a short time before, had been a prisoner at porto bello, and his past sufferings now proved to have been the foundation of his future good fortune. having escaped from that place, he knew every inch of the coast, which had been so painfully impressed on his mind, and morgan submitted, with perfect confidence, to his guidance. by his advice, they steered straight for the bay of santa maria, arriving there purposely about dusk, and reached a spot about twelve leagues from the city, without meeting any vessel. they then sailed up the river to puerto pontin, four leagues distant, taking advantage of the land wind that sprang up, cool and fresh, at night. they here anchored, and embarked in boats, leaving a few men to bring on the ships. rowing softly, they reached about midnight a place called estera de longa lemos, where they all landed, and marched upon the outposts of the city. michael scott describes porto bello as built in a miserable, dirty, damp hole, surrounded by high forest-clad hills, wreathed in mist, and reeking with dirt and fever. everlasting vapours obscure the sun, and mingle with the exhalation of the steaming marshes of the lead-coloured, land-locked cove that forms the harbour. they were now within reach of the strongest city in the spanish west indies, except havannah and carthagena, the port of panama, and the great mart for silver and negroes. leaving as usual a party to guard the boats, and preceded by their guide, they began halfway to the town to prepare their arms. upon approaching the first sentinel, morgan sent forward the guide and three or four others to surprise him. they did it cunningly, before he could fire his musket, and brought him with his hands bound to morgan, who, threatening him with death, asked him how things in the city went, and what forces they had, making a "thousand menaces to kill him if he did not speak the truth." the terrified spaniard informed them that the town was well garrisoned, but that there were very few inhabitants; the merchants only residing in the town while the galleons are loading, and that he would be able to take the place in spite of all the fortresses and the soldiers. morgan then pushed on to the fort, carrying the man bound before them, and after a quarter of a league reached the castle, where the man's company was stationed, closely surrounding it, so that no one could get in or go out. the prisoner had in vain attempted to avoid this redoubt, to which he had served as picket, encouraged by morgan's promises of reward, and avowal that he would not give him up to his countrymen. the spaniards, finding the sentinel gone, had already spread the alarm of the buccaneers' approach. from beneath the walls morgan commanded the sentinel to summon the garrison to surrender at once to his discretion, or they should be cut in pieces without quarter. not regarding these threats, the spaniards began instantly to discharge their guns and muskets to alarm the town and obtain succour. but though they made a good resistance they were soon overpowered, and the buccaneers, driving them into one room, set fire to the powder which lay about on the floor, and blew the tower and its defenders together into the air; all the survivors they put to the sword, in order to strike terror in the city. at daybreak they fell upon the city, and found the inhabitants, some still asleep and others scared and alarmed; many had thought of nothing but hiding their treasure, and only the professional soldier prepared for resistance. the governor, unable to rally the citizens, fled into the citadel, and fired upon the town as well as the enemy. the frightened herd, stupid with fear, were throwing their money and jewels into wells and cisterns, or burying their treasure in their courtyards, cellars, gardens, and chapels. the adventurers, abstaining from pillage, sent a chosen party to the convents to make prisoners of the religious, male and female; while another division prepared ladders to escalade the fort, not relaxing for a moment either in attack or defence. they attempted in vain to burn down a castle-gate which proved to be of iron, and baffled their efforts, and kept up a warm fire at the embrasures, aiming with such dexterity at the mouths of the guns as to kill a gunner or two every time the pieces were either run out or loaded. the firing continued from daybreak till noon, and even then the result seemed doubtful, for when the adventurers approached the walls with their grenades to burn the doors the defenders threw down upon them earthen pots full of powder, and lighted by a fusee, together with showers of stones and other missiles. morgan himself began to despair of success, and did not know how to escape from that strait, when the english flag arose above the smaller fort, and a troop of men ran forth to proclaim victory with shouts of joy. the remaining castle, however, was the _pièce de resistance_, being the storehouse of the church plate, and the wealth of the richer citizens now with the garrison. a stratagem was suggested, appealing strongly to spanish superstition, and, as it happened, successfully. ten or twelve ladders were made so broad and strong that three or four men might mount them abreast. to all threats the governor replied he would never surrender alive, although the religious should themselves plant the ladders. the monks and nuns were then dragged to the heads of the companies, and forced to plant the ladders, in spite of the hot rain of fire and shot; the governor "using his utmost endeavours to destroy all who came near the walls, firing on the servants of god, although his kinsmen, and prisoners, and forced to the service. delicate women and aged men were goaded at the sword's point to this hateful labour, derided by the english, and unpitied by their countrymen." all this time the buccaneers maintained an unceasing fire along the whole line of grey battlements at every aperture where a pike head glittered or a lighted match smouldered; suffering much in return, unarmed as they were, guarded neither by steel-cap nor cuirass, and unsheltered by palisade or earthwork. in spite of the cries of the religious as they reared the ladders, their prayers to the saints, and their entreaties to the garrison to remember their common blood and nation, many of the priests were shot before the walls could be scaled. the more superstitious of the spaniards were unnerved at hearing the dying curse of the consecrated servants of god, rising shrill above the roar of the battle. the ladders were at last planted, amid a shower of fire-pots that killed almost as many of the spaniards as the english, and the buccaneers sprang up with all the agility of sailors and the determination of berserkers; their best marksmen shooting down the few spaniards who awaited their arrival at the summit. their falling bodies struck a few buccaneers from their ladders. every man that went up carried hand grenades, pistols, and sabre, but the musket was now laid aside, for it had done its work, and was a mere encumbrance in the grapple of closer combat. the english swarmed up in great numbers, and reaching the top kindled their fusees and threw down their fire-pots upon the crowded ranks of the enemy, with destructive effect. before they could recover their dismay, sabre in hand, as if they were boarding, they leaped down upon the garrison, who drove them off with pikes and clubbed muskets, and, closing with them, hurled many from the ramparts, or, stabbing them, fell clenched with the foe in their despair. when their cannon was taken, the spaniards threw down their arms and begged for quarter, except the governor and a few officers, who determined to die fighting against the robbers and heretics, the enemies of god and spain. the buccaneers, seeing the red flag flying from the first fort, which was the strongest, and built on an eminence which commanded the towers below, advanced with confidence to the attack of the remaining one, hitherto thought impregnable, which defended the port, and prevented the entrance of their vessels, which they wished to secure safe in the harbour, as the number of their wounded would require their long stay in the place they had captured. the governor, proud and brave, still refused to surrender, and fired upon them with his cannon, which were soon silenced by the superior fire of the newly-taken fort, which flanked his position. out of this last stronghold, the weary and despairing defenders were quickly driven. major castellon, the stout-hearted governor, disdaining to ask quarter of a pack of heretic seamen, killed several of his own men who would not stand to their arms and called on him to save their lives, and struck down many of the hunters who tried to take him alive, not from a generous compassion, for pity seldom entered a buccaneer's heart, but in order to obtain his ransom. a still more cruel trial of his courage, and duty to his king, awaited him: his wife and children fell at his knees, and, with cries and tears, begged him to lay down his arms and save both their lives. but he obstinately and sternly refused, replying, "better this than a scaffold," preferring to die as a valiant soldier at his post, than to be hanged as a coward for deserting it. he died the death of a brave man, fighting desperately, and was found buried under the bodies of his dead enemies. if unpitied by his ferocious foes, he has left a name to be honoured by all brave men, as one worthy of a more chivalrous age, and a better cause. it now being nearly sunset, and the city their own, the adventurers enclosed all their prisoners in the citadel, separating the wounded, and, although heedless of their sufferings, employing the female slaves to wait upon them. it now being nearly night, they gave way to all the excesses of soldiers in a town taken by storm, exasperated by the recollection of past danger, and the death of friends, and maddened by both the certainty of present pleasure and the power of indulging in every success. oexmelin says, fifty brave spaniards might have put all the revellers to death, and recovered the place. we do not, however, hear that a single spanish jael was found to revenge herself on these modern siseras. the following morning morgan summoned his vessels into the harbour, and collecting all the loose wealth of the town, had it brought into the fort. directing the repairs of the ramparts, scorched and shattered, he remounted the guns, in order to be ready to repel any attack from panama. he collected a few of the prisoners who had been persuaded to say they were the richest merchants in porto bello, and put all who would not confess to the torture. he maimed some and killed others, who remained silent because they were in reality poor, and had concealed no treasure. having spent fifteen days in these alternate cruelties and debaucheries, morgan resolved to retreat. no buccaneer general had ever taken a city which could not be stripped clean in fourteen days. famine and disease began ungratefully to take the part of the spaniard against the nation that had fed them with so many victims. wild waste compelled them already to devour their mules and horses, rather than die of hunger, or turn cannibals. parties of hunters were sent into the suburbs to hunt the cattle, whose flesh they then devoured, saving the mules for the prisoners, who, between their wounds and their hunger, were reduced to dreadful extremities. a death more terrible than that of a blow in battle now appeared in their midst. many had already died victims of excess, and even the most prudent perished. the bad food, the sudden transition from excess to want, and the impurity of the tainted air, produced a pestilence. the climate of porto bello, always unhealthy, as hosier's squadron afterwards experienced, was poisoned by the putrefaction of the dead bodies, hastily buried, and scarcely covered by earth. the wounded nearly all sickened, and the intemperate were the first to die. the prisoners, crowded together, and already weakened mentally by despondency, and physically by famine, soon caught the fever, and died with dreadful rapidity. rich merchants, accustomed to every luxury, and to the most varied and seasoned food, pined under a diet of half-putrid mule's flesh, and bad, unfiltered water. everything warned morgan that it was time to weigh anchor, for the president of panama was already on his march towards the city at the head of men. informed of their approach from a slave captured by a hunting party, morgan held a council, at which it was agreed not to retreat until they had obtained a ransom for the town greater than the spoil at present collected; and, in order to prevent a surprise, he placed a body of well-armed men in a narrow defile, where but a few men could go abreast, and through which the president must pass. they found that that general had fewer troops with him than was reported, and these took flight at the first encounter, and did not attempt again to force a passage, but waited for reinforcements. the president, with the usual gasconade of a spaniard, sent word to morgan, that if he did not at once leave porto bello he should receive no quarter when he should take him and his companions, as he hoped soon to do. to this, morgan, knowing he had a sure means of escape, said he should not leave till he had received , pieces of eight as a ransom for the city, and if he could not get this he should kill all his prisoners, blow up the castle, and burn the town, and two men were sent by him to the president to procure the money. the president, seeing that nothing could either deceive or intimidate morgan, gave up porto bello to its fate, not caring to erect a silver bridge for a flying enemy. in vain he sent to carthagena for a fleet to block up the ships in the river; in vain he kept the citizens in suspense as to the money, in hopes of gaining time. he was deaf and obdurate to all the entreaties of the citizens, who sent to inform him that the pirates were not men but devils, and that they fought with such fury that the spanish officers had stabbed themselves, in very despair, at seeing a supposed impregnable fortress taken by a handful of people, when it should have held out against twice the number. don juan perez de guzman, the president, a man of "great parts," and who had attained high rank in the war in flanders, expressed himself, with candour, as astonished at the exploits of men (not regular soldiers) who, with no other arms but their muskets, had taken a city which any general in europe would have found necessary to have blockaded in due form. he gave the people of porto bello, at the same time, leave to compound for their safety, but offered them no aid to insure it. to morgan himself he could not refrain from expressing astonishment. he admired his success, with no ordnance for batteries, and against the citizens of a place who bore the reputation of being good soldiers, never wanting courage in their own defence. he begged, at the same time, that he would send him some small pattern of the arms wherewith he had, with such vigour, taken so great a city. morgan received the messenger with great kindness and civility, flattered by the compliment from an enemy, and glad of an opportunity of expressing contempt of any assailants. he took a hunter's musket from one of his men, and sent it, together with a handful of buccaneer bullets, to the president, begging him to accept it as a small pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken porto bello, hoping he would keep it a twelvemonth or two, at which time he hoped to visit panama and fetch it away. the spaniard, astonished at the wit and civility of the captain, whom he had deemed a mere brutal sea thief, sent a messenger to return the present, as he did not need the loan of weapons, but thanking morgan and praising his courage, remarking at the same time that it was a pity that such a man should not be employed in a just war, and in the service of a great and good prince, and hoping, in conclusion, that he would not give himself the trouble of coming to see him at panama, as he would not fare there so well as he had done at porto bello. having delivered this message, so chivalrous in its tone, the messenger presented morgan with a beautiful gold ring, set with a costly emerald, as a remembrance of his master don guzman, who had already supplied the english chief with fresh provisions. having now provided himself with all necessaries, and stripped the unfortunate city of almost everything but its tiles and its paving stones, carried off half of the castle guns and spiked the rest, he then set sail, taking on board the ransom, which was punctually paid in the shape of silver bars. corn seldom grew where his foot had once been, and he left behind him famine, pestilence, poverty, and death. orphans and widows, mutilated men and violated women leaped for joy as his fleet melted into the distance. setting sail, with great speed, he arrived in eight days at cuba, where the spoil was divided. they found that they had in gold and silver, whether in coin or bar, and in jewels, which from haste and ignorance were seldom estimated at one-fourth part of their value, to the value of , pieces of eight. this did not include the silks and merchandise, of which they paid little heed, only valuing coin or bullion, and regarding the richest prize without coin as scarce worth the taking. this division accomplished, to the general satisfaction of all but the people of porto bello, who were now poor enough to defy all thieves, they returned at once to jamaica, where they were magnificently received, oexmelin says, "_surtout des cabaretiers_." every door was open to them, and for a whole week all loudly praised their generosity and their courage; at the end of a month, every door was shut in their faces, all but one--the prison for debts, and that closed behind their backs. "they spent in a short time," says one of their historians, "with boundless prodigality, what they had gained with boundless danger and unremitting toil." the people of tortuga considered them as mere slaves, who dived to get their pearls, and cared not whether they perished by the wave or by the shark, so the pearls which they had gathered could be first secured. "not long after their arrival in jamaica," says esquemeling, "being that short time needed to lavish away all their riches, they concluded on another enterprise to seek new fortunes:" a sailor spends his money quickly, and so does a highwayman--in them both trades were combined. morgan remained at rest as long as most buccaneers did, that is to say, till he had drunk out half his money, strung the jewels of spanish matrons around the necks of the fairest courtesans in jamaica, and stripped himself at the gambling-table to-day in the hope of recovering the losses of yesterday. as his purse grew thin his heart grew stout, as his hunger grew greater his thirst for blood began also to increase. at last he looked seaward, turned his back on the lotus-land and the sirens, and prepared for sea. his rendezvous this time was fixed in a small island on the south side of hispaniola, in order to invite both the french hunters and the sailors of tortuga. by this sign of confidence morgan hoped to remove all rankling prejudice between the french and english adventurers, and to obtain recruits from both nations. he resolved this time upon an expedition which would enable him and his men to retire from the sea life for ever, or at least to hold a longer revel. the buccaneers of the coast seeing him always successful, and never returning without booty, less cruel and less rash than lolonnois, and not only very brave but very fortunate, flocked to his flag almost without a summons. every one furbished up his musket, cast bullets, bought powder, or fitted up a canoe. parties were at once despatched to hunt in the savannahs, and to prepare salted meat sufficient for the voyage. great numbers of french and english crowded to cow island. a powerful ally appeared at this crisis, in the shape of a french vessel, _le cerf volant_, of st. malo, which had come out to the indies, virtuously intending to trade with the spaniards, but, finding this difficult or unprofitable, had less virtuously determined to live by plundering them, and was now manned by french adventurers from tortuga, no friends to morgan, but anxious to share his booty. the vessel, which had also a long-boat towing at its stern, had a short time before attacked a genoese ship, trading with negroes, but which, mounting forty-eight cannon, had driven it off, and compelled the captain to return home and refit. the crew seemed unwilling to trust the english, and would not listen to any terms. morgan, who had just been joined by a ship from new england with thirty-six cannon, longed to add the twenty-four iron guns and the twelve brass ones of _le cerf volant_ to his collection. in spite of his wish to unite the two nations, and close the green and still rankling wound, the temptation was rather too strong for him. his guardian angel slept for a moment, and when she awoke the english flag floated at the frenchman's peak. the change happened thus: the french captain having refused to join morgan's expedition, unless he drew up a peculiar charter party opposed to all buccaneer law, and quarrelling about this, he swore _ventre st. gris_, he would return to tortuga, reload his cargo, and return to france. the blow was to be struck now or never. the english part of the st. malo crew had already deserted to morgan. some of these men furnished him with an opportunity of revenge. the merchant captain, unaccustomed to the looseness of buccaneer discipline, had treated them as sailors, and not as _matelots_ and brothers. they told morgan, that being short of victual, he had lately stopped an english vessel, and taken provisions by force, paying the commander only with bills of exchange, cashable at jamaica, and that he carried secretly a spanish commission, empowering him to plunder the english. these charges, though full of malice, had a specious appearance of truth. the captain had indeed stopped an english vessel, but had paid for all he had taken with honest bills. he did also carry a spanish commission, having been driven to anchor at the port of baracoa, on the north-east side of cuba, where he had obtained letters of marque from the governor, in order to conceal his real errand. morgan considered this a sufficient pretext, and sounded his crew to ascertain how far they would help him at the moment of need. it was at this very moment of indecision that the new england vessel joined the fleet, and enabled him to bear down any opposition. this ship, which oexmelin calls the _haktswort_ (oxford?) carried a crew of men. it was said to belong to the king of england (charles ii.), and to have been lent by him to the present captain. [a strange, improbable story, unless the english government had really determined to encourage the buccaneer movement. the _haktswort_ was really sent by the governor of jamaica to join the expedition.] with this timely succour morgan's mind was instantly made up. he asked the st. malo captain and all his officers to dinner, on board the newly-arrived vessel, and there made them prisoners, without any resistance, away from their crew, and with their ship exposed to an overwhelming fire. he then affected the anger of indignant justice, declared they were robbers, who plundered the english under a commission from the enemy, and came there as mere spies and traitors. fortunately for him, the english vessel that had been stopped by the st. malo crew arrived at the very moment to repeat and exaggerate the charge. the ship was now his own, and only god could take it from him. and "god did so," says esquemeling, who sees a judgment in all misfortunes that befal an enemy, but none in those that befal his friends. morgan, victorious and exulting, called a council of war, and summoned all his captains to attend him on board his large prize. they praised the vessel, laughed at the tricked frenchmen, and discussed their plans. they calculated what provisions they had in store, and of what their force was capable. the island of savona was agreed upon as a rendezvous, as at that east corner of hispaniola they might lurk and cut off stragglers from the armed spanish flota, now daily expected. having completed their arrangements they gave way to pleasure, the real occupation and business of a buccaneer's life, his toil being only expended to procure the means for pleasure, and time to enjoy it. they began to feast and drink healths, the officers below and the sailors on deck. prayers for a successful voyage were blended with drunken songs, and unintelligible blasphemies. the captain and the cook were both drunk, the very gunners who discharged a broadside when the toasts were drained, fell senseless beside their smoking guns. those who could not move slept, those who could walk drank on. by some accident, a spark from a smoking match caught the powder, and in an instant the vessel blew up. in perfect equality all ranks were lifted up towards heaven, in a column of flame, only to fall back again to perish, burnt and helpless, in the sea. more than of the men that formed the crew were drowned. by a singular coincidence, the officers nearly all escaped. the english having their powder stored in the fore part of the vessel, and not in the stern like the french, the sailors only perished; the officers and the st. malo prisoners who were drinking with them were merely blown, much bruised, into the water. the english adventurers, declaring that the french had set fire to the powder, would have killed them on the spot, but morgan, not apparently the least chapfallen by the disappointment, sent them all as prisoners to jamaica. the thirty men, seated in the great cabin at some distance from the main force of the powder, escaped, and many more would have been saved had they been sober. the french prisoners in vain endeavoured to obtain justice in jamaica, were long detained in confinement, and threatened with death when they demanded a trial. had morgan returned unsuccessful they might have perhaps been listened to. eight days after this loss morgan commanded his men to collect the floating bodies now putrifying, not to give them christian burial, but to save the clothes, and to remove the heavy gold rings which the english buccaneers wore upon their forefingers, abandoning their unsaleable bodies to the birds and to the sharks. undaunted by this accident, morgan found he had still a force of fifteen vessels, and men, but his gun ship, the largest of all, only carried fourteen small guns. they now made way to savona, where all were to repair and careen, and the swift to wait for the slow. letters were soon placed in bottles, and buried at a spot indicated by a mark agreed on. coasting hispaniola, they were detained by contrary winds, and attempted for three weeks in vain to double cape lobos. their provisions ran short, but they were relieved by an english vessel, bound to jamaica, which had a superfluity for sale. always seeking for pleasure, though in emergencies capable of the severest self-denials, six or seven of the fleet remained clustering round this vessel to purchase brandy, as eager and thoughtless as stragglers round a vivandière. the more thoughtful and earnest pressed on with morgan, and, reaching the bay of ocoa, waited for them there, the men spending their time usefully, as they had agreed before, in hunting, and foraging for water and provisions, killing some oxen and a few horses. detained here by continued bad weather, morgan maintained strict discipline, compelling every captain to send, daily, on shore eight men from each ship, making a total force of sixty-four. he also instituted a convoy, or a body of armed men, who attended the hunters as a guard, for they were now near st. domingo, which was full of greek soldiers and spanish matadors. the spaniards, few in number, did not attack them, but, adopting a fabian policy, which suited their pride and phlegm, sent for or men to kill all the cattle round the bay. another party drove all the herds far into the interior, wishing to starve the foe out of the island, knowing that a buccaneer, pressed by hunger, did not care whether he ate horse, mule, or ass, falling back upon monkeys and parrots, and resorting to sharks' flesh or his own shoes as a last resource. but when the buccaneers spread further inland, a body of soldiers was despatched to the coast, to practise a stratagem, and to form an ambuscade. the following was their plan, which completely succeeded, but nevertheless ended in the spaniards' total rout. a band of fifty buccaneers having resolved to venture further than usual into the woods, a party of spanish muleteers were ordered to drive the bait, a small herd of cattle, past the shore, where they had landed, pretending to fly when they caught sight of their enemies. when they approached the ambuscade two spaniards were sent out, carrying a white flag of truce. the buccaneers, ceasing the pursuit, pushed forward two men to parley. the treacherous spaniards beseeched them plaintively not to kill their cows, offering to sell them cattle, or furnish them with food. the buccaneers, with all the good faith of seamen, replied that they would give a crown and a-half for each ox, and that the seller could make his own profit besides on the hide and the tallow. during this time, which was planned to give time for the operation, the spanish troops were turning the flank of the enemy, and had now surrounded the small band on all sides. they interrupted the conversation by breaking out of the wood, with shots and cries of "_mata, mata_"--"kill, kill," imagining they could cut to pieces so small a force without a struggle. the buccaneers, differing from them in opinion, faced about with good heart, threw themselves into a square, and beat a slow retreat to the forest, keeping up a rolling fire from all four sides of their brave phalanx. the spaniards, considering the retreat a sure proof of despair and fear, attacked them with great courage, but great loss. the buccaneers losing no men, while the spaniards fell thick and fast, cried out, in imprudent bravado, that they were only trying to frighten them, and put no balls in their muskets. this jest cost them dear, for the spaniards had been only aiming high, wishing to kill them on the spot and to make no prisoners. they now tried to maim as well as kill, and soon wounded so many in the legs that the buccaneers were obliged to retreat to a clump of trees, where they stood at bay, and from whence the spaniards did not dare to beat them. they then began to prepare to carry off their dead and wounded to the vessels, but seeing a small party of spaniards piercing one of the bodies with their swords, they fired upon them, charged them, and drove them off, tracking their way by their dead, and then retreated, killing the cattle and bearing them off in sorrowful triumph to their vessels. the very next day, at the first light, morgan, furious to revenge this treachery of the spaniards, landed himself at the head of men, and entered the woods, visiting the scene of the last night's skirmish. but the spaniards had long since fled, discovering that in driving cattle towards the shore as a lure for the buccaneer, they only brought destruction upon themselves, and a dangerous enemy nearer to their homes and treasures. morgan, finding his search useless, returned to his ship, having first burned down all the deserted huts he could find: "returning," says esquemeling, "somewhat more satisfied in his mind for having done considerable damage to the enemy, which was always his ardent desire." the day after, deciding not to venture an attack upon bourg d'asso, morgan, impatient at the delay of his vessels, resolved to sail without them, and visit savona, hoping there to meet his lingering companions. alarming the people of st. domingo, he coasted round hispaniola. he determined to wait eight days at savona, and, weary of rest, still wanting provisions, he sent some boats and men to plunder the towns round st. domingo, but they, finding the spaniards vigilant and desperate, gave up the enterprise as hopeless, and returned empty-handed to endure the curses and sneers of their commander. morgan now held a council of war, for provisions were very scanty and time was going. the eight ships did not arrive, and all agreed, with their seven small vessels and their men, some place of importance might still be taken. morgan had hitherto resolved to cruise about the caraccas and plunder the towns and villages, mere hen-roost robbing and footpad work, compared with the enterprise proposed by one of his french captains amid great applause. this captain was pierre le picard, the _matelot_ of the famous lolonnois when he took maracaibo: he it was who had steered the vessels over the bar, and had served both as pilot at sea and guide on land; he reefed and fought, and could handle a rope as well as a musket. he now proposed a second attack upon the same place, and, with all the rude eloquence of sincerity, proved the facility of the attempt, and the riches that lay within their reach. as he spoke good english that could be understood by all, and was, moreover, much esteemed by morgan, the scheme for a new campaign was at once rapturously approved. he disclosed in the council all the entries, passages, forces, and means. a charter-party was drawn up, containing a clause, that if the rest of the fleet joined them before they had taken a fortress, they should be allowed to share like the rest. having left a letter at savona, buried in the usual way, the buccaneers set sail for curaçoa, stopping after some days' sail at the island of omba, to take in water and provisions. this place was distant some twelve leagues from maracaibo. here they stayed twenty-four hours, buying goats of the natives for hanks of thread and linen. sheep, lambs, and kids were the only products of the island, which abounded with spiders whose bite produced madness, unless the sufferer was tied hands and feet, and left without food for a night and a day. the fleet set sail in the night, to prevent the islanders discovering the object of their voyage. the next morning they sighted the small islands that lie at the entrance of the lake of maracaibo, anchoring out of sight of the vigilia, in hopes to escape notice, but were observed by the sentries, whose signal gave the spaniards ample time for defence. the fleet remained becalmed, unable to reach the bar till four o'clock in the afternoon. the canoes were instantly manned, in order to take the bar fort, rebuilt since picard's last visit. its guns played upon the boats as they pulled to land. morgan exhorted his men to be brave and not to give way--for he expected the spaniards would defend themselves desperately, seeing their fire was so rolling and incessant that the fort seemed like the crater of a small volcano, and they could now see that the huts round the wall had been burnt and removed, to leave them no protection or shelter. "the dispute continued very hot, being managed with great courage from morning till dark night." that latterly the fighting died away to occasional shots is evident, for, at six o'clock when it grew dusk, morgan reconnoitred the fort, and found it deserted. the cessation of the fire had already roused their suspicions. suspecting treachery, morgan searched the place to see if any lighted fuses had been placed near the powder, and a division was employed to enter the place before the main body. there was no lack of volunteers for this experimental and cat's-paw work. morgan himself clambered up first. as they expected, they found a lighted match, and a dark train of powder communicating with the magazine. a little later and the whole band had perished together. morgan himself snatched up the match. this fort was a redoubt of five toises high, six long, and three round. in the magazine they found , pounds of gunpowder that would have been wasted had the place been blown up; fourteen pieces of cannon, of eight, twelve, and fourteen pounds calibre, and abundance of fire-pots, hand-grenades, and carcases; twenty-four muskets and thirty pikes and bandoliers had been left by the runaways. the fort was only accessible by an iron ladder, which could be drawn up into the guard-room. but courage requires no ladder, and, like love, can always find out a way. when they had once examined the place, the buccaneers broke down the parapet, spiked the cannon, threw them over the walls, and burnt the gun-carriages. the spaniards waited in vain for the roar of their bursting mine. their own city was rocking beneath their feet; a more dreadful visitation than the earthquake or the hurricane was at their doors. at daybreak the fleet sailed up the lake, the ruined fort smoking behind them. making great haste, they arrived at maracaibo the next day, having first divided among themselves the arms and ammunition of the fort. the water being very low and the shoals numerous, they disembarked into their boats, with a few small cannon. from some cavaliers whom they could see on the walls they believed that the spaniards were fortifying themselves. the buccaneers therefore landed at some distance from the town, anchoring and disembarking amid discharges of their own cannon, intending to clear the thickets on the shore. their men they divided into two divisions, in order to embarrass the enemy by a double attack. but these precautions were useless. the timid people had already fled into the woods; only the beggars, who feared no plunderers, and the sick, who were praying for death, remained in maracaibo. the brave fled with the coward, the monk with the sinner, the thief from the thieves, the soldiers from the seamen, the catholic from the dreaded protestant, and the spaniard from the enemies of his name and race. the sick were expecting death, and cared not if it came by the hand of the doctor or the buccaneer; the beggar hoped to benefit by those who could not covet, and might pity, their rags. "a few miserable folk, who had nothing to lose," says esquemeling, "alone remained." crippled slaves, not worth removing, lay in the streets; the dying groaned untended in the hospital. children fled from parents, and parents from children; rich old age was left to die in spite of all the inducements of avarice. the prostitute fled to escape dishonour, and the murderer to avoid bloodshed. the houses were empty, the doors open, the chambers stripped of every movable, costly or precious. the first care of the invaders was to search every corner for prisoners, the next to secure, each party as they arrived, the richest palaces for their barracks. the palaces were their dens, the churches their prisons; everything they defiled and polluted, the loathsome things they made still more horrible, the holy they in some degree contaminated. at sea they were brave, obedient, self-denying, religious in formula (half the world goes no further), determined, and irresistible; on land cruel, bloody, rebellious, and ferocious. at sea they exceeded most men in the practice of the sterner virtues, on land they were demons of wrath, devils of drunkenness and lust, mercenaries and outlaws in their bearing and their actions. the three former days of terror had sapped the courage of the bravest, and alarm and fear had, by a common panic, induced the inhabitants to hide the merchandise in the woods. the men who fled had had fathers and children killed and tortured in the first expedition. friends, still maimed by the rack, increased their fears by their narrations. the buccaneers seemed a judgment from god, irresistible and unavertable. the desire to defend riches seems to be a weaker principle in the human mind than the desire to obtain them. great conquerors have generally been poorer than the nations they have conquered. scarcely any provisions remained in the town. there was no vessel or boat in the port, all had been removed into the wide lake beyond. the small demilune fort, with its four cannon, that was intended to guard the harbour, was also deserted. the richer the man, the further he had escaped inland; the needy were in the woods, the drunken beggars revelled alone in the town, rejoicing in an event that at least made them rich: "it is an ill wind that blows nobody good." the very same day the buccaneers despatched a body of men to search the woods for refugees, any attempt to secrete treasure being a heavy offence in the eyes of morgan. these men returned the next evening with thirty prisoners, fifty mules, and several horses laden with baggage and rich merchandise. both the male and female prisoners seemed poor and worthless. they were immediately tortured, in order to induce them to disclose where their richer and more virtuous fellow citizens were hidden. morgan, finding none to resist him, quartered his men in the richest houses, selecting the church as their central guard-house and rallying point, their store-room for plunder, their court of justice (blind and with false weights), and their torture-chamber. some of the prisoners offered to act as guides to places where they knew money and jewels were hidden. as several places were named, two parties went out the same night upon this exciting search. the one party returned on the morrow with much booty, the other did not wander in for two days, having been misled by a prisoner, who, in the hopes of finding means to escape through his knowledge of the country, had led them into such dangerous and uninhabited places that they had had a thousand difficulties in avoiding. furious at finding themselves mocked by their guide, they hung him on a tree without any parley. in returning they came, however, suddenly upon some slaves who were seeking for food by night, having been hiding in the woods all day. torture was at once resorted to, to find out where the masters lay, for slaves could not be there alone. the braver of the two suffered the most horrible pain without disclosing a syllable, and was eventually cut to pieces without confessing; the weaker, and perhaps younger negro, endured his sufferings at first with equal fortitude, although he was offered liberty and reward if he would speak. but when the seamen drew their sabres, still red with the blood of his companion, and began to hew and gash his brother's limbs that still lay palpitating on the ground, his courage fell, and he offered to lead them to his master. the spaniard was soon taken with , crowns' worth of plate. for eight days the men practised unheard-of cruelties upon the wretched townsmen, already starved and beggared, wretches whose only crime had been their yielding to the natural impulse of self-preservation. they hung them up by their beards and by the hair of their heads, by an arm or a leg; they stretched their limbs tight with cords, and then beat with rattans upon the rigid flesh; they placed burning matches between their fingers; they twisted cords about their heads, tightening the strain by the leverage of their pistol stocks, till the eyes sprang from the sockets. the deathblow was never given from pity, but as the climax and consummation of suffering, and when the executioners were weary of their cruelty. in vain the tortured spaniards screamed that the treasure was all removed to gibraltar, and that they were not the rich citizens but very poor men, monks and servants of jesus, god help them! many died before the rack could be loosened. captain picard, exulting in the success of his expedition, was now very urgent in pressing morgan to advance on gibraltar before succours could arrive there from merida, believing that it would surrender as it had done to lolonnois. morgan having in his custody about of the chief families of maracaibo, and all the accessible booty, embarked eight days after his landing, and proceeded to gibraltar, hoping to rival lolonnois in every virtue. his prisoners and plunder went with him, and he determined to hazard a battle. expecting an obstinate defence, every buccaneer made his will, consoling himself by the thought of revelry at jamaica if he was one of those lucky enough to escape. "death," says oexmelin, "was never much mixed up in their thoughts, especially when there was booty in view, for if there were only some hopes of plunder they would fight like lions." before the fleet started, two prisoners had been sent to gibraltar to warn the governor that captain morgan would give him no quarter if he did not surrender. picard, who remembered the former dangerous spots, made his men land about a quarter of a league from the town, and march through the woods in hopes of taking the spaniards in the rear, in case they should be again entrenched. the enemy received them with quick discharges of cannon, but the men cheered each other, saying, "we must make a breakfast of these bitter things ere we sup on the sweetmeats of gibraltar." they landed early in the morning, and found no more difficulty than at maracaibo. the spaniards, deceived by a stratagem, had expected their approach by the road, and not by the woods. they had no time to throw up entrenchments, and only a few barricades, planted with cannon, protected their flight. they remembered lolonnois; their hearts became as water, and they fled as the buccaneers took peaceable possession of the town. the spaniards took with them their riches, and all their ammunition, to use at some more convenient period. morgan, rejoicing in the easy victory, posted his men at the strong points of the town, while men, under picard, went out to pursue and bring in prisoners. they found the guns spiked, and every house sacked by its owner, much spoiled, much carried off, and the heavy and the worthless alone left. the only inhabitant remaining in the town was a poor half-witted spaniard, who had not clearly ascertained what he ought to do. he was so well dressed that they at first took him, much to his delight, for a man of rank, and asked him what had become of all the people of gibraltar. he replied, "they had been gone a day, but he did not know where; he had not asked, but he dare say they would soon be back, and for his part he, pepé, did not care." when they inquired where the sugar-mills were, he replied that he had never seen any in his life. the church money, he knew, was hid in the sacristy of the great church. taking them there he showed them a large coffer, where he pretended to have seen it hid. they opened it and found it empty. to all other inquiries he now answered, "i know nothing, i know nothing." some of the buccaneers, angry at the disappointment, and vexed at the subtlety of the spaniards, declared the fellow was more knave than fool, and dragged him to torture. they gave him first the strapado, till he began to wish the people were returned; they then hung him up for two hours with heavy stones tied to his feet, till his arms were dislocated. at last he cried out, "do not plague me any more, but come with me and i will show you my goods and my riches." he then led them to a miserable hovel, containing only a few earthen pots and three pieces of eight, wrapped in faded finery, buried under the hearth. he then said his name was don sebastian sanchez, brother of the governor of maracaibo, that he was worth more than , crowns, and that he would write for it and give it up if they would cease to hang and plague him so. they then tortured him again, thinking he was a grandee in disguise, till he offered, if he was released, to show them a refinery. they had not got a musket-shot from the hut before he fell on his knees and gave himself up as a criminal. "jesu maria!" he cried, "what will you do with me, englishmen? i am a poor man who live on alms, and sleep in the hospital." they then lit palm-leaves and scorched him, and would have burnt off all his clothes had he not been released by one of the buccaneers who now saw he was an idiot. the poor fellow died in great torment in about half-an-hour, and before he grew cold was dragged into the woods and buried. the following day picard brought in an old peasant and his two daughters; the old man, his crippled limbs having been tortured, offered to serve as guide, and lead them to some houses in the suburbs. half blind and frightened, he mistook his way, and the buccaneers, thinking the error intentional, made a slave, who declared he had intentionally misled them, hang him on a tree by the road side. slavery here brought its own retribution, for this same slave, burning to avenge some ill treatment he had received, offered, on being made free, to lead them to many of the spanish places of refuge. before evening ten or twelve families, with all their wealth, were brought into gibraltar. it had now become difficult to track the fugitives, as fathers refused even to trust their children; no one slept twice in the same spot, for fear that some one who knew of the retreat would be captured, and then, under torture, betray the spot, generally huts in the darkest recesses of the woods, where their goods were stored from the weather. these exiles were, however, obliged to steal at night to their country houses to obtain food, and then they were intercepted. from some of these merchants morgan heard that a vessel of tons, and three barges laden with silver and merchandise belonging to maracaibo, now lay in the river; about six leagues distant, and men were despatched to secure the prize. in scouring the woods again with a body of human bloodhounds, morgan surprised a large body of spaniards. some of these he forced the negro guide to kill before the eyes of the others, in order to implicate him in the eyes of the survivors. after eight days' search the band returned with prisoners, and a long train of baggage mules, bound for merida. the prisoners were each separately examined as to where the treasure was hid. those who would not confess, and even those who had nothing to confess, were tortured to death--burnt, maimed, or had their life slowly crushed out of them. amongst the greatest sufferers in this purgatory on earth was an old portuguese of venerable appearance, perhaps either a miser or purposely disguised. this man the blood-thirsty negro, now high in favour with the buccaneers, and trying to rival them in cruelty, declared was very rich. the poor old man, tearing his thin grey hair, swore by the virgin and all the saints that he had but pieces of eight in the whole world, and these had been stolen from him a few days before, during the general chaos, by a runaway slave. this he vowed on his knees with tears and prayers, doubly vehement when coming from one already on the grave's brink. the cruel slave still looked sneeringly on, and swore he was known to be the richest merchant in all gibraltar. the buccaneers then stretched the portuguese with cords till both his arms broke at the shoulder, and then bound him by the hands and feet to the four corners of a room, placing upon his loins a stone, weighing five cwt., while four men, laughing at his cries, kept the cords that tied him in perpetual motion. this inhuman punishment they called "swimming on land." as he still refused to speak, they held fire under him as he swung groaning, burnt off his beard and moustaches, and then left him hanging while they strapadoed another. the next man they threw into a ditch, after having pierced him with many sword thrusts, for they seem to have been as insatiable for variety of cruelty as they were for cruelty itself. they left him for dead, but he crawled home, and eventually recovered, although several sword blades had passed completely through his body. as for the old portuguese, his sufferings were far from ended; putting him on a mule they brought him into gibraltar, and imprisoned him in the church, binding him to a pillar apart from the rest, supplying him with food barely sufficient to enable him to endure his tortures. four or five days having passed, he entreated that a certain fellow prisoner, whom he named, might be brought to him. this request being complied with, as the first step to obtaining a ransom while he still remained alive, he offered them, through this agent, a sum of pieces of eight. but the buccaneers laughed at so small a sum, and fell upon him with clubs, crying " , , old hunx, and not , or you shall not live." after several more days of continued suffering, during which he incessantly protested that he was a poor man and kept a small tavern, the miser confessed that he had a store of pieces of eight, buried in an earthen jar, and all these, bruised and mutilated as he was and much as he loved money, he gave for his liberty, and a few days more of life. upon the other prisoners, without regard to age, sex, or rank, they inflicted tortures too disgusting and shocking to mention. fear, hatred, and avarice generated crimes, till the prisoners grew as vile as their persecutors. a slave, who had been cruelly treated by his master, persuaded the buccaneers to torture him on the plea that he was very rich, although he was in reality a man of no wealth. the other prisoners, roused from the selfishness of self-preservation by a thrill of involuntary compassion, told morgan that the spaniard was a poor man, and that the slave had perjured himself to obtain revenge. morgan released the spaniard directly, but he had been already tortured. the slave was given up to his master to be punished by any sort of death he chose to inflict. handed over to the buccaneers, he was chopped to pieces in his master's presence, still exulting in his revenge. "this," says oexmelin, with a cold _naïveté_, "satisfait l'espagnol, quoyqu'il fust fort mal traité, et en danger d'estre estropié" (this satisfied the spaniard, though he had been very badly treated, and almost lamed for life). some of the prisoners were crucified, others were burnt with matches tied between their toes or fingers, many had their feet forced into the fires till they dropped from the leg black and charred. all that the indians had suffered was now retaliated on the spaniards. the buccaneers themselves considered the punishment a vengeance of providence. the only mercy ever shown to a spaniard was to end his sufferings by death. the _coup de grace_ was a kindness when it ended the misery of a groaning wretch, bruised and burnt, lying in the hot sun, half mortified, or with his body already paralyzed four or five days since. the masters being all tortured, the slaves next received the strapado. these men, weaker in their moral nature and with no motive for concealment but fear, told everything. many of the hiding-places were, however, not known to them. one of them, during the fever of his wound, declared he knew where the governor of the town was secreted, with many of the ladies of gibraltar, and a large portion of the treasure. threats of death revealed the rest, and he confessed that a ship and four boats, laden with maracaibo wealth, lay in a river of the lake. the buccaneers were instantly on their feet. morgan, with men and the slave guide, set out to capture the governor; and others, in two large _settees_ (boats), sallied out to capture the treasure and the ships. the governor was not easily caught, for it needed a battalion of balloons to surprise him. his first retreat was a fort thrown up in the centre of a small island in the river, two days' march distant. hearing that morgan was coming in force, he retreated to the top of an adjoining mountain, into which there was but one ascent, so straight, narrow, and perilous, that it could only be mounted in single file. the expedition altogether broke down, the rock proved inaccessible to any but eagles; a "huge rain" wetted their baggage and ammunition; in fording a river swollen by this "huge rain," many of their female prisoners were lost, and, what they valued more, several mules laden with plate were whirled down the torrents. many of the women and children sank under the fatigue, and some escaped. involved in a marshy country, up to their middles in water, the buccaneers had to toil on for miles. a few lost their lives, others their arms (the means of preserving them). a body of fifty determined men, the buccaneer historian himself says, could have destroyed the whole body. but the spaniards were already so paralyzed by fear that they fled at the very rustle of a leaf. twelve days were spent in this dangerous and useless expedition. two days after them arrived their comrades, who had been somewhat more successful. the spaniards had unloaded the vessels, and were beginning to burn them when they arrived, but many bales were left in the haste of flight, and the boats, full of plunder, were brought away in tow. morgan had now been lord in gibraltar for five whole weeks, practising all insolences that a conqueror ever inflicts on the conquered; revenging on them the sufferings of the conquest, and trampling them under foot for the very pleasure of destruction. provisions now failing, he resolved to depart; the provisions of gibraltar, except the fruits, coming entirely from maracaibo, were delayed and intercepted. he first sent some prisoners into the woods to collect a ransom from the fugitives, under pain of again burning down their newly rebuilt city. he demanded , pieces of eight. they promised to pay it in eight days, and gave four of their richest citizens as hostages. the governor, safe from all danger himself, had, however, forbidden them to pay any ransom, and they prayed morgan to have patience. setting sail with his hostages he arrived in three days at maracaibo, afraid that, during his long absence, the spaniards had fortified themselves, and he should have to fight his way through the passes. before his departure he released all his prisoners who had paid ransom, but detained the slaves. he refused particularly to give up the treacherous negro, because he knew they would burn him alive. the only inmate of all the rich palaces and wide squares of maracaibo, was a poor sick man, who informed him (morgan), to his astonishment, that three spanish men-of-war had arrived at the bar, and had repaired and garrisoned the fort. their commander was don alonso del campo d'espinosa, the vice-admiral of the indian fleet, who had been despatched to those seas to protect the spanish colonists, and put to the sword every adventurer he could meet. this news did not alarm those who every day "set their lives upon the hazard of a die," but it enraged men who thought themselves secure of their plunder, and which they now might have to throw off to lighten them in their retreat. morgan instantly despatched his swiftest vessel to reconnoitre the bar. the men returned next day, assuring him that the story was too true, and they were in very imminent danger. they had approached so near as to be in peril of the shot, the biggest ship mounted forty guns, the next thirty, and the smallest twenty, while morgan's flag-ship had only fourteen. they had seen the flag of castile waving on the redoubt. there was no means of escape by sea or land, and all were in despair at such enemies so placed. morgan, undaunted and roused to new courage by the extremity, grew more full of audacity than ever. he at once sent a flag of truce to the _magdalene_, the spanish admiral's vessel, demanding , pieces of eight, or he should set maracaibo in flames. the admiral, amused and astonished at such temerity, wrote back to say, that hearing that they had committed hostilities in the dominions of his catholic majesty, his sovereign lord and master, he had come to dispute their passage out of the lake, from that castle, which they had taken out of the hands of a parcel of cowards, and he intended to follow and pursue them everywhere, as was his duty. the letter continued: "notwithstanding if you be contented to surrender with humility all you have taken, together with the slaves and other prisoners, i will let you pass freely without trouble or molestation, on condition that you retire home presently to your own country. but if you make any resistance or opposition to what i offer you, i assure you i will command boats to come from the caraccas, wherein i will put my troops, and, coming to maracaibo, will put you every man to the sword. this is my last and absolute resolution; be prudent, therefore, and do not abuse my bounty with ingratitude. i have with me very good soldiers, who desire nothing more ardently than to revenge on you and your people all the cruelties and base infamous actions you have committed upon the spanish nation in america." this vapouring letter morgan read aloud to his men in the broad market-place at maracaibo, first in french and then in english, begging their advice on the whole matter--asking them whether they would surrender everything for liberty, or fight for both liberty and hard-won treasure. they all answered unanimously, they did not care for the spanish brag, and they would rather fight to the last drop of their blood than surrender booty got with such peril. one of the men, stepping forward, cried, "you take care of the rest, i'll build a _brûlot_, and with twelve men will burn the biggest of the three spaniards." the scheme was adopted, but resolved once more to try negotiation, now that he was prepared for the worst, morgan wrote again to don alonso, offering to leave maracaibo uninjured, surrender all the prisoners, half the slaves, and to give up the hostages. the don, trusting in his superior strength, and believing morgan fairly intimidated or at least entirely in his mercy, refused to listen to any terms but those he had proposed, adding, that in two days he should come and force him to yield. morgan resolved upon this to fight his way out and surrender nothing, his men, though discouraged, being still brave and desperate. all things were put in order to fight. the englishman of morgan's crew proceeded as fast as possible with his _brûlot_, or fire-ship. he took the small vessel captured in the rivière des espines, and filled it full of palm-leaves dipped in tar, and a mixture of brimstone and gunpowder. he put several pounds of powder under each of the ten sham guns, which were formed of negro drums. the partitions of the cabins were then broken down, so that the flame might spread unimpeded. the crew were wooden posts, dressed up with swords, muskets, bandoliers, and hats or montero caps. this fire-ship bore the english colours, so that it might pass for morgan's vessel; and in eight days, by all hands working upon it, it was ready. during the preparation an extra guard was kept upon the prisoners, for one escaping would have destroyed all their hopes of safety. the male prisoners were kept in one boat, and the females, slaves, plate, and jewels in another. in others, guarded by twelve men each, came the merchandise. the _brûlot_ was to go first and grapple with the admiral's ship. all things being now completed, morgan, with a heart as gay as if he fought for god and the right, made his men take the usual buccaneer oath, employed on all occasions of pressing danger, when mutual confidence was peculiarly necessary. they vowed to fight till death, and neither to give nor take quarter. he promised a reward to all who distinguished themselves, exciting all the strongest feelings of their nature--revenge, avarice, and self-preservation. with these desperate resolves, full of hope, for they were accustomed to consider his promises of victory as certain prophecies, they set sail on the th day of april, , to seek the spaniards. they found the spanish fleet riding at anchor in the middle of the entry of the lake, like gaolers of their spacious prison. it being late and almost dark, morgan gave orders to anchor within range of the enemy, determined to resist if attacked, but to wait for light. they kept a strict watch, and at daybreak lifted anchor and set sail, bearing down straight upon the spaniards, who, seeing them move, advanced to meet them. poor fishing boats the buccaneers' barks seemed beneath those proud floating castles; "but the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong." the _brûlot_ sailed first, pushing on to the admiral's vessel, which lay stately between its two companions, and was suffered to approach within cannon shot. the spaniards believing that it was morgan's vessel, and intended to board them, waited till it came closer to crush it with a broadside. they little thought that they were fighting with the elements. the fire-ship fell upon the spaniard and clung to its sides, like a wild cat on an elephant. too late the spaniard attempted to push her off, but the flames had already leaped from their lurking places; first the sails were swathed in fire, then the tackling shrivelled up, and soon the solid timbers burst into a blaze. the stern was first consumed, and the fore part sank hissing into the sea. the wretched crew, flying from one element to the other, perished, some by fire, some by water; the half-drowning clung to the burning planks and withered in the glare; the burning sailors were sucked down by the vortex of the sinking wreck. don alonso, seeing the danger, called out to them in vain to cut down the masts, and, throwing himself with difficulty into his sloop, escaped to land. the sailors, refusing quarter, were allowed to perish by the buccaneers' boats' crews, who at first offered to save them. perhaps the recollection of their oath lessened their exertions. the boats were pulling round the burning vessel in hopes of saving plunder, and not of saving lives. the second vessel was boarded by the buccaneers and taken, in the confusion, almost without resistance. the third ship, cutting its cables, drifted towards the fort, and there ran ashore, the crew setting fire to her to prevent capture. the buccaneers, proud of their victory, determined to push it to extremities by landing and attempting to storm the fort at the bar, without ladders, and relying only on their hand grenades, but their artillery was too small to make any practicable breach. the fort they found well supplied with men, cannon, and ammunition. the garrison had not suffered personally by the loss of a fleet manned by strangers, and they repulsed all attacks. unwilling to retire, morgan spent the whole of the day till dusk in firing muskets at any defenders who showed themselves above the walls, and at dusk lit them up with a shower of fireballs, but the spaniards desperately resisted, and shot so furiously at them as to drive them back to the ships, with the loss of thirty killed and as many wounded--more loss than they had suffered in the capture of maracaibo and gibraltar, while the fleet had been destroyed without the loss of a single man. the garrison, expecting a fresh attack at daybreak, laboured all night to strengthen their works, levelling the ground towards the sea, and throwing up entrenchments from spots that commanded the castle. the next day morgan, not intending to renew the attack, employed himself in saving the spanish sailors who were still floating on charred pieces of the wreck; not rescuing them from mercy, but in order to make them help in recovering part of the sunk treasure. they acknowledged that don alonso had compelled them before the engagement, after they had confessed to the chaplain, to come and take an oath to give the enemy no quarter, which was the reason many had refused to be saved. the admiral's vessel, the _magdalene_, had carried thirty-eight guns and twelve small brass pieces, and was manned by sailors; the second, the _st. louis_, had thirty-four guns and men; and the third, the _marquise_, twenty-two guns and men. the _marquise_ derived its name from the marquis de coquin, who had fitted it out as a privateer. the _concepcion_ and _nostra signora de la soledad_, two larger vessels, had been sent back to spain from carthagena; a fourth, _nostra signora del carmen_ (for the spaniards generally drew the names of their war vessels from the lady of love and peace), had sunk near campeachy. the pilot of the smaller vessel being saved, and promised his life, disclosed all don alonso's plans. he had been sent, upon the tidings of the loss of porto bello, by direction of the supreme council of state, with orders to root out the english pirates in those parts, and to destroy as many as he could, for dismal lamentations had been made to the court of spain, to the catholic king, to whom belonged the care and preservation of the new world, of the damages and hostilities committed by the english, and he had resolved to punish these proceedings and avenge his subjects. the king of england being complained to, constantly replied that he never gave any letters-patent to such men or such ships. sending home his more cumbrous ships, the don had heard at st. domingo of the fleet sailing from jamaica, and a prisoner, taken at alta grecia, disclosed morgan's plan on the caraccas. on arriving there the wild fire had already broken out at maracaibo a second time, and hither he came to extinguish it. a negro slave had indeed informed the admiral of the fire-ship, but with short-sighted pride he derided the idea, saying that the english had had neither wit, tools, nor time to build it. the pilot who made these disclosures was rewarded by morgan, and, yielding to his promises, entered into his service. he informed him, with the usual zeal of a deserter, that there was plate to the value of , pieces of eight in the sunken ship, for he had seen it brought on board in boats. the divers eventually recovered pounds' worth of it, some "in plate" and others in piastres, that had melted into large lumps, together with many silver hilts of swords and other valuables. leaving a vessel to superintend this profitable fishery, morgan hurried back to maracaibo, and, fitting up his largest prize for himself, gave his own ship to a companion. he also sent to the governor, now somewhat crest-fallen, to re-demand the ransom, threatening more violently than before to burn down the city in eight days if it was not brought in. he also demanded, in addition, cows as victual for his fleet. these were brought in in the short space of two days, with part of the money, and eleven more days were spent in salting the meat and preparing for sea. then returning to the mouth of the lake, he sent to don alonso to demand a free passage, offering to send all the prisoners on shore as soon as he had once passed out, but otherwise to tie the prisoners to the rigging, exposing them to the shot of the fort, and then to kill and throw overboard those who were not struck. the prisoners also sent a petition, praying the governor to spare their lives. but the don, quite undaunted, sternly answered to the hostages, who besought him on their knees to save them from the sword and rope, "if you had been as loyal to your king in hindering the entry of these pirates as i shall be in hindering their going out, you had never caused these troubles, either to yourselves or to our whole nation, which hath suffered so much through your pusillanimity. i shall not grant your request, but shall endeavour to maintain that respect which is due to my king, according to my duty." when the terrified messengers returned and told morgan, he replied, "if alonso will not let me pass, i will find out a way without him," resolving to use either force or stratagem, and perhaps both. fearing that a storm might separate his fleet, or that some might not succeed in escaping, morgan divided the booty before he attempted to pass the bar. having all taken the usual oath, he found they had collected , pieces of eight, including money and jewels, and in addition a vast bulk of merchandise and many slaves. eight days were spent in this division, which took place within sight of the exasperated garrison in the fort. the following stratagem was then resorted to. knowing that the spaniards were expecting a final and desperate attack on the day before their departure, the buccaneers made great show of preparing to land and attack the fort. part of each ship's crew embarked with their colours in their canoes, which were instantly rowed to shore. here the men, concealed by the boughs on the banks, lay down flat in their boats, and were rowed back again to their vessels by only two or three sailors. this feigned landing they repeated several times in the day. the spaniards, certain of an escalade, at night brought down the great eighteen pound ship guns of the fort to the side of the island looking towards the land, and left the sea-shore almost defenceless. when night came morgan weighed anchor, and, by moonlight setting sail, at the commencement of the ebb tide, dropped gently down the river, till the vessels were almost alongside of the castle. then spreading sails, quick as magic, he drove past, firmly but warily. every precaution was taken. the crew were couched flat on the poop, and some placed below to plug the shot-holes as they came. the spaniards, astonished at their daring, and enraged at their escape, ran with all speed and shifted their battery, firing hastily, furiously, and with little certainty; but by this time, a favourable wind springing up, the buccaneers were almost out of reach, few men were killed, and little damage done. in this manner escaped morgan from the clutches of don alonso, who had thought himself sure of his prey. the baffled rage of the spaniards and the wild joy of the buccaneers, their clamorous approval of morgan's skill, the exultation of their triumph, and the prisoners' dismay, may be easily imagined. generous in success, morgan, once out of range of the guns that thundered in pursuit, sent a canoe on shore with his prisoners from maracaibo, but those of gibraltar he carried off, as they had not yet paid their ransom. the joy of one and the grief of the other, their parting and the tears, were painful to witness. as he set sail, and the fort was still looming to the right, morgan discharged a farewell salute of eight guns, to which the chapfallen spaniards had not the heart to return even a single musket shot. but out of scylla into charybdis was a buccaneer's fate: one danger was succeeded by another, hope by hope, despair by despair. the very day of their escape the judgment of heaven seemed to overtake the sea rovers, as if to warn them that no stratagems could defeat god. the fleet was surprised by such a tempest that they were compelled to anchor in five or six fathom water. the storm increased, they were obliged to weigh again, and at any risk keep off the land. their only choice seemed to be death by the spaniard, the indian, or the wave--all equally hostile and deaf to mercy. oexmelin says he was on board the least seaworthy vessel of the whole fleet, that, having lost anchors and mainsail, they had great difficulty in keeping afloat, and were obliged to bale as well as work night and day at the pumps, amid deafening thunder and mountainous seas that threatened to drown them even while the vessel still floated. the ship, but for the ropes that held it together, would have instantly sunk. the lightning and the wave disputed for their prey, but the rude arbiter, the wind, came in and snatched them from these destroyers. "indeed," says oexmelin, "though worn out with fatigue and toil, we could not make up our minds to close our eyes on that blessed light which we might so soon lose sight of for ever, for no hope of safety now remained. the storm had lasted four days, and there was no probability of its termination. on one side we saw rocks on which our vessel threatened every instant to drive, on the other were indians who would no more have spared us than the spaniards who were behind us; and by some evil fortune the wind drove us ceaselessly towards the rocks and the indians, and away from the place whither we desired to go." in the midst of these distresses, six armed vessels gave them chase through the storm when they were near the bay of venezuela. they turned out to be vessels of the count d'estreés, the french admiral, who generously rendered them aid, and the wind abating enabled them to reach the shore. morgan and some others made for jamaica, and the french for st. domingo,--the spaniards at the fort probably believing they had perished in the gale. the laggers of morgan's fleet, who had never joined him, were less fortunate than the admiral they deserted. in number, they landed at savona, but could not find the buried letter. they determined to attack the town of comana, on the caraccas, choosing captain hansel, who had distinguished himself at porto bello, as their commander. this town was distant sixty leagues from trinidad. on landing they killed a few indians who awaited them on the beach, but the spaniards, disputing briskly the entry of the town, drove them back at last to their ships with great loss and confusion. on returning to jamaica they were jeered at by morgan's men, who used to say, "let us see what sort of money you brought from comana, and if it be as good as that which we won at maracaibo." morgan, encouraged by success, soon determined on fresh enterprises. on arriving at jamaica, "he found many of his officers and soldiers already reduced to their former indigency by their vices and debaucheries. hence they perpetually importuned him for new exploits, thereby to get something to expend still in wine and strumpets, as they had already done what they got before. captain morgan, willing to follow fortune's call, stopped the mouths of many inhabitants of jamaica who were creditors to his men for large sums, with the hopes and promises of greater achievements than ever in a new expedition. this done, he could easily levy men for any enterprise, his name being so famous through all these islands, as that alone would readily bring him in more men than he could well employ." affecting a mystery, attractive in itself, and necessary where spanish spies might be present, morgan appointed a rendezvous at port couillon, on the south side of hispaniola, and made known his intentions to the english and french adventurers, whether in tortuga or st. domingo. he wrote letters to all the planters and old buccaneers in hispaniola, and desired their attendance at a common council. at many a hunting fire this announcement was read, and many an _engagé's_ heart beat high at the news, for morgan was now the champion and hero of the buccaneers of america. great numbers flocked to the port in ships and canoes, others traversed the woods and arrived there by land, through a thousand dangers. such crowds came that it soon became difficult to obtain a place in the crews. vessels and provisions were now all that was wanted. plunder was certain, and they had but to choose on what rich coast they should land. the french adventurers, ever gay and ready, were first in the field. morgan himself, punctual and prompt, followed in the _flying stag_, the st. malo vessel we have before mentioned, carrying forty-two guns. the vessel had been lately confiscated and sold by the governor of jamaica, the unfortunate captain escaping with his life, happy in being free although penniless. at the rendezvous on the th day of october, , men were present, and twenty-four vessels assembled at the muster, amid shouting, gun firing, flag waving, and great joy and hope. morgan's proposition was to attack some rich place which was well defended--the more danger the more booty, for it was only rich places that the spaniards cared to defend. several previous expeditions had failed from want of provisions, and the necessity of attacking small places to obtain food gave the alarm to the spaniards and frustrated their plans. they therefore resolved to visit la rancheria, a small place on the banks of the river de la hache, on the mainland, with four vessels and men. this was a place where corn and maize were brought by the farmers for the supply of the neighbouring city of carthagena, and they hoped to capture in the port some pearl vessels from that place. in the meanwhile, morgan, not caring for lesser prey, employed his men in careening, cleaning, rigging, and pitching their vessels ready for sea, that all might be ready to weigh anchor the moment the expedition of foragers returned. it augured terribly to the spaniard that it was necessary to sack a town or two before the buccaneer fleet could even set sail. part of the men were in the woods boar-hunting, and others salting the flesh for the voyage. each crew had a certain part of the woods allotted it for its own district, so perfect was morgan's discipline. each party prepared the salt pork for its own use, while the cauldrons of pitch were smoking on the beach, and the clank of the shipwrights' hammers could be heard all night by the hunters. the english, who were not so expert in hunting as their gallic brethren (so says a french writer), generally took a french hunter with them, to whom they gave or piastres. some of these men had trained packs of dogs that would kill enough boars in a day to load twenty or thirty men. the rancheria expedition arrived in six days within sight of the river, and was unfortunately becalmed for some time within a gunshot of land. this gave the spaniards time to prepare for their defence, and either to bury their goods or throw up entrenchments, for these repeated visits of the buccaneers had rendered them quick on such occasions. a land-wind at last springing up, gave a corn vessel from carthagena, lying in the river, an opportunity to sally out and attempt its escape, but being a bad sailer it was soon captured, much to the englishmen's delight, for corn was the object of their visit. by a singular coincidence, it turned out to be that very cocoa vessel which lolonnois sold to the governor of tortuga, who, on its return from france, had sold it to captain champaigne, a french adventurer, who in his turn sold it to the same merchant captain who then commanded it. he told the buccaneers that it made the twelfth vessel taken from him by the brotherhood of the coast in five years only, and yet that with all these losses he had contrived to make a fortune of , crowns. "on peut juger par là," says oexmelin, with a shrug, "s'il y a des gens riches dans l'amérique." landing at daybreak, in spite of the mowing fire from a battery, and under protection of their own cannon, they drove the spaniards back to their strongly fortified village, which they at once attacked. here the enemy rallied and fought desperately, hand-to-hand, sword blow and push of pike, from ten in the morning till night, when they fled, having suffered great loss, into secret places in the woods. the buccaneers, who had suffered scarcely less loss, pushed on at once headlong to the town, which they found deserted; and next day pursuing the spaniards took many prisoners, and proceeded to torture them, inflicting on fear and innocence all the horrors of the madrid inquisition. in fifteen days they captured many prisoners and much booty, and with the usual threats of destroying the town, they obtained hanegs, or bushels of maize, sufficient for the whole of the fleet. they preferred this to money, and in three days, the whole quantity being brought in by the people, eager for their departure, they at once sailed. morgan, alarmed at their five weeks' absence, had begun to despair of their return, thinking rancheria must have been relieved from carthagena or santa maria. he also thought that they might have had good fortune, and deserted him to return to jamaica. his joy was great to see them arrive laden with corn, and more in number than when they departed. a council of war was actually holding to plan a new expedition, when captain bradley and his six vessels hove in sight. the maize was divided among the fleet, but the plunder was awarded to the captain who had risked his life for the general good. the captured ship arrived very opportunely, and it was instantly awarded by general consent to le gascon, a french adventurer who had lately lost his vessel. morgan having divided the meat and corn, and personally inspected every bark, set sail for cape tiburon, at the west end of hispaniola, a spot convenient for laying in stores of wood and water. here he was joined by several ships from new england, refitted at jamaica. morgan now found himself suzerain of a fleet of thirty-seven vessels, large and small, carrying sixteen, fourteen, twelve, ten, even down to four pound guns. to man these there were sailors, well armed and ready for flight and plunder. the fleet was divided into two squadrons, under his vice-admiral and subordinate officers. to the captains he gave letters-patent, guaranteeing them from all the effects of spanish hostility, from "the open and declared enemies of the king his master," (charles ii.) the charter-party which we give elsewhere was then signed, the rewards were higher than usual, and many modifications introduced. in the private council three places were proposed as rich and accessible--panama, carthagena, and vera cruz. in these consultations the only thing considered was whether a town was rich or poor, not whether it was well or ill defended. "the lot fell" on panama, as the richest of the three, though the least known to them, being further from the north pacific than any buccaneer had yet gone. panama was the galleon-port and the el dorado of the adventurer's yarns. being so unknown a place they determined to first recapture st. catherine's, where in the prisons they might obtain many guides, who had seen both the north and south pacifics, for outlaws made, they found, the best guides for outlaws; and they agreed before sailing that, if they took a spanish vessel, the first captain who boarded it should have for his reward a tenth part of her cargo. they had begun by sacking a town to victual their fleet, they now proposed to storm a fort to obtain a guide--st. catherine's batteries, if resolutely manned, being able to beat off three such fleets. the admiral, it was agreed, should have a share for every hundred men, and every captain eight shares if the vessel they took was large. the crews then one by one took the oath of fidelity. on the th december, , the fleet set sail for st. catherine's, whose prisoners would rejoice at their arrival. the one squadron carried the royal english and the other a white flag. the admiral's division bore a red banner with a white cross, "le pavillon du parlement," and at the bow-sprit one of three colours, blue, white, and red. those of the other divisions carried a white and red flag. morgan also appointed peculiar signals for all emergencies. on their way to st. catherine's they chased two dutch vessels from cuba, which escaped by aid of contrary winds that baffled their pursuers. in four days the fleet arrived at st. catherine's, and morgan despatched two small vessels to guard the port. this island was renowned for its vast flocks of migratory pigeons, and is watered by four streams, two of which are dry in summer. the land, though fertile, was not cultivated. the next day, before sunrise, they anchored in the bay of aguada grande, where the spaniards had erected a four-gun battery. morgan, at the head of men, landed and made his way through the woods, having no guides but some old buccaneers who had been there before with mansvelt. on arriving that night at the governor's house and the platform battery they found the spaniards had retreated by a bridge into the smaller and almost impregnable island, which they had made strong enough to beat off , men. being driven back at first by a tremendous fire, morgan was obliged to encamp that night in the woods or open country--no hardship to hunters or sailors in fine weather. there still remained a whole league of dense brush between them and their enemies, at once their protection and destruction. a chilling torrent of rain began to beat upon them, and instead of ceasing, as they had hoped, lasted till noon of the next day. they pulled down two or three thatched huts, and made small damp fires, that scorched a few but warmed none. they could not shelter themselves, and, what was worse, could not keep their arms and powder dry. but more than this, they suffered from hunger, having had no food for a whole day. the men for the greater part being dressed with no clothes but a seaman's shirt and trowsers, and without shoes or stockings, suffered dreadfully after the burning of a tropic noon from this freezing cold and rain. one hundred men, says esquemeling, even indifferently well armed, might have cut them all to pieces. at daybreak they were roused from their shivering sleep by the spanish drums beating the _diane_, or _reveillé_. the rain had now ceased, and their courage rose as high as ever. but they could not answer this challenge, for their own drums were loose and soaked with wet, and they had now to employ themselves in quickly drying their arms. scarcely had they done this, when it began to cloud over and rain with increased fury, as if the "sky were melting into waters," which blinded them and prevented them again from advancing to the attack. many of them grew faint-hearted, and talked of returning. the men were now feeble for want of sleep, and faint with cold and hunger. the eager foragers found in a field "an old horse, lean, and full of scabs and blotches, with galled back and sides." this was instantly killed and flayed, and divided in small pieces among as many as could get any, and eagerly eaten without salt or bread by the few lucky epicures--"eaten," says the historian, "more like ravenous wolves eat than men." the rain still gushing down, and the men, worn out in mind and body, growing angry, discontented, and clamorous, it became necessary for morgan to act with promptitude. about noon, to his great joy, the rain ceased and the sun broke out. taking advantage of this lull--for the rain had barred even their retreat--morgan ordered a canoe to be rigged out in great haste, and dispatched four men with a white flag to the spanish governor, declaring that if they did not all surrender he would put them to the sword without quarter. his audacity was luckily crowned with success. opposed armies are often men mutually afraid, trying to frighten each other. the governor was intimidated. he demanded two hours to confer with his officers. at the end of this time, on morgan giving hostages, two soldiers with white flags were sent to arrange terms. the governor had decided in full conference that he could not defend the island against such an armada, but he proposed a certain (dalgetty-like) stratagem of war to save his own head, and preserve the reputation of his officers at home and abroad. morgan was to come at night and assault the fort of st. jerome, which stood near the bridge that joined the two islands, and at the same moment his fleet was to attack the castle of santa teresa by sea, and land troops near the battery of st. matthew. these men were to intercept and take prisoner the governor as he made his way to the st. jerome batteries. he would then at once lead them to the castle, as if they were his own men. on both sides there was to be continual firing, but only with powder, and no bullets. the forts thus taken, the island would of course surrender. this well-arranged performance took place with great _éclat_. morgan, in acceding to the terms, had insisted on their strict performance of every item, and gave notice, for fear of ambush, that every straggling spaniard would be shot. afraid of a stratagem, some buccaneers loaded their muskets with ball, and held themselves ready for any danger. with much smoke and great consumption of powder, the unsuspecting spaniards were driven like sheep into the church, the island surrendered, and by this bloodless artifice spanish pride remained unhurt. but a cruel massacre now commenced. the buccaneers had eaten nothing for nearly two days. they made war upon all the poultry and cattle--the oldest cow was slain, the toughest rooster strangled. for several days the island was lit up with huge fires, round which the men roasted their meat, and revelled and caroused. when wood grew scarce they pulled down cottages to light their fires, and having no wine very wisely made use of water. the day after the surrender they numbered their prisoners, and found they had collected souls--seventy of the garrison, forty-three children, and thirty-one slaves. the men were all carefully disarmed, and sent to the plantations to bring in provisions; the women were left in the church to pray and weep. they next inspected all the ten batteries, wondering in their strength and exulting in their victory. the fort st. jerome contained eight great guns and sixty muskets; the st. matthew three guns; the santa teresa twenty guns and muskets. the castle was very strong, and moated; impregnable on the sea side, and on the land side ascended by a narrow mountain path, while the guns on its summit commanded the port. the st. augustine fort mounted three guns; the platform two; the st. salvador and another also two; the santa cruz three; and the st. joseph six and twelve muskets. in the magazine they found , pounds of powder, which they at once shipped, with all the other ammunition. in the st. jerome battery morgan left a guard, but in all the other forts the guns were spiked and the gun-carriages burnt. the object of his visit was still to seek. examining the prisoners, who were now crowded in with merchants and grandees, he inquired for banditti from panama, and three slaves stepped forward who knew every path and avenue to the city. these men he chose as guides, promising them a full buccaneer's share of the spoil if they brought him by a secure way to the city, and, in addition, their liberty when they reached jamaica. these volunteers consisted of two indians and a mulatto. the former denied all knowledge of the place; the latter--a "rogue, thief, and assassin, who had deserved breaking on the wheel rather than mere garrison service"--readily accepted morgan's propositions, and promised to serve him faithfully. he had a great ascendancy over the two indians, and domineered over them as he pleased, without their daring to disobey a half-blood already on the point of preferment. the next step to panama was to capture chagres and its castle, and morgan at once dispatched five vessels, well equipped, with men on board, to undertake this expedition, remaining himself at st. catherine's, lest the people of panama should be alarmed. he was to follow his van-guard in eight days, guided by the indians, who knew chagres. this time he and his men prudently spent in pulling manioc roots for cassava, and digging potatoes for the voyage. the chagres expedition was led by the same captain bradley who commanded at rancheria. he had been with mansvelt formerly, and had rendered himself famous by his exploits both among the buccaneers and the spaniards. he arrived in three days at chagres, opposite fort st. lawrence, which was built on a mountain commanding the entrance of the river. as soon as the spaniards saw the red flag spreading from his vessels, they displayed the royal colours of spain, and saluted him with a volley too hasty and angry to be very destructive. the buccaneers, according to their usual stratagem, landed at narangui, a place a quarter of a league distant from the castle, their guide leading them through thick woods, through which they had to cut a path with their sabres. it was early morning when they landed, and requiring half a day to perform the short distance, they did not reach a hill commanding the castle till two o'clock. the mire and dirt of the road combined, with the darkness of the way, to lengthen their march. the guides served them well, but brought them at one spot so near to the castle, and in so open and bare a place, that they lost many men by the shot. in other parts the wood was so thick that they could only tell that they were near the castle by the discharge of the cannon. the hill they had now reached was not within musket range, and they were thus deprived of the use of their favourite weapon. could they have dragged cannon so far they might have taken the place without losing a man. the castle of chagres was built on a high mountain at the entry of a river, and surrounded by strong wooden palisadoes banked with earth. the top of the mountain was divided into two parts, between which ran a ditch thirty feet deep; the tower had but one entrance by a drawbridge, towards the land it had four bastions, and towards the sea two more. the south wall was inaccessible crag, the north was moated by the broad river. at the foot of the hill lay a strong fort with eight guns, which commanded the river's mouth; a little lower down were two other batteries, each of six guns, all pointing the same way. at another side were two great store-houses, full of goods, brought from the inland, and near these a flight of steps, cut in the rock, led to the castle of the summit. on the west side was a small port not more than seven or eight fathoms deep, with good anchorage for small vessels, and before the hill a great rock rose from the waves, which almost covered it at low water. the place appeared such a perfect volcano of fire, and so threatening and dangerous, that the buccaneers, but for fear of morgan's rage and contempt, would have at once turned back. after many disputes and much doubt and perplexity, they resolved to hazard the assault and risk their lives. when they descended from their hill into the plain, they had to throw themselves on their faces to escape the desolating shower of balls; but their marksmen, quite uncovered and without defence, shot at the spanish gunners through the loops of the palisading, and killed all who showed themselves. this skirmishing continued till the evening, when the buccaneers, who had lost many men, their commander having his leg broken with a cannon shot, began to waver and to think of retiring, having in vain tried to burn down the place with their fireballs, and charged up to the very walls, which they tried in vain to climb, sword in hand. when the spaniards saw them drawing back through the dusk, in some disorder, carrying their wounded men and gnashing their teeth in rage at the dark lines of defence, they shouted out "come on, you dogs of heretics; come on, you english devils: you shan't get to panama this bout, for we'll serve your comerades as we have served you." the buccaneers, astonished at their cries, now for the first time learnt that morgan's expedition had been heard of at panama. night had already begun, and the rain of bullets, shot, and indian arrows (more deadly almost than the bullets), harassing and well-aimed, continued as grievous as by day. taking advantage of the gloom, another party advanced to the palisadoes; the light of their burning fuses directed the aim of the spaniards. a singular accident of war gave the place, so briskly defended, into the hands of the assailants. a party of the french musketeers were talking together, devising a plan of advance, when a swift indian arrow fell among them and pierced one of the speakers in the shoulder (esquemeling says in the back and right through the body, another writer says in the eye). a thought struck the wounded man, for the wound had spurred his imagination: coolly drawing the point from his shoulder, he said to those near him, "attendez, mes frères, je m'en vais faire périr tous les espagnols--tous--avec cette sacré flèche" (wait a bit, my mates, i'll kill all the spaniards--all--with this d---- arrow); so saying he drew from his pocket a handful of wild cotton, which the buccaneers kept as lint to staunch their wounds, and wound it round the dart; then putting it in his loaded musket, from which he extracted the ball, he fired it back at the castle roof. it alighted on some dry thatch, which in a moment began to smoke, and in another second broke into a bright flame, more visible for the darkness. the buccaneers shouted and pushed on to the attack, and the wounded men forgot their wounds. some of the men, seeing the result of the experiment, gathered up the indian arrows that lay thick around them, and fired them at the roofs. many houses were soon in flames. the spaniards, busy with the defence, did not see the fire until it had gained some head, and reaching a parcel of powder blown it up and caused ruin and consternation within the fort. if they left the walls the buccaneers gained ground, if they left the fire the flames spread more terribly than before; the want of sufficient water increased the confusion, and while they tried to quench the conflagration, the buccaneers set fire to the palisadoes. oexmelin, who was present as a surgeon at this attack of chagres, relates an anecdote of courage which he himself witnessed, to show the indomitable fury of the assailants. one of his own friends was pierced in the eye by an indian arrow, and came to him to beg him to pull it out, the pain was so intense and unbearable. although a surgeon, oexmelin had not the nerve to inflict such torture, however momentary, on a friend, and turned away in pity, upon which the hardy seaman tore out the arrow with a curse, and, binding up the wound, rushed forward to the wall. the few buccaneers who had retreated, seeing the flames, now hurried back to the attack. the spaniards could no longer see the enemy at whom they fired, the night was so dark and starless, while the buccaneers shot down with the unerring aim of hunters the spaniards, whose bodies stood out dark and well-defined against the bright background of flame. all this time, before the fire of the roofs could be extinguished, the buccaneers had swarmed through the fosse, and, mounting upon each other's shoulders, burnt down part of the palisadoes, as we have before described, in spite of the hand grenades that were thrown from above, and which burst among them. the fire ran along the wall, leaping like a winged thing, and devoured wherever it clung, spreading with dreadful rapidity. the fight continued all night, and when the calm daylight broke on the worn soldiers, the buccaneers saw with sparkling eyes that the gabions had smouldered through, and that the earth had fallen down in large heaps into the fosse. the breaches in many places were practicable. the armour had fallen piece-meal from their giant adversary, and he now stood before them bare, wounded, and defenceless. the buccaneers, creeping within musket shot of the walls, shot down the gunners in the breaches to which the cannon had been dragged by the governor's orders during the night. divided into two bands, one party kept up a constant fire on the guns, and the other watched the motions of the enemy. about noon they advanced to a spot which the governor himself defended, belted round with twenty-five brave spaniards, armed with pikes, halberds, swords, and muskets. they advanced under a dreadful hail of fire and lead, the defenders casting down flaming pots full of combustible matter and "_odious smells_," which destroyed many of the english. but we do not know how smells could drive back men who would have marched through hell if it had been the shortest way to panama. nothing could equal the unflinching courage of the spaniards--they disputed every inch of ground--they yielded slowly like wounded lions when the hunters narrow their circles. they showered stones and all available missiles on their assailants, only wishing to kill a buccaneer, but feeling that resistance was hopeless; some, rather than yield, threw themselves from the cliffs into the sea, and few survived the fall. as the buccaneers won their way to the castle the spaniards retreated to the _garde du corps_, where they entrenched themselves with two cannon; to the last the governor refused quarter, and at last fell shot through the brain. the few who remained surrendered when the guns were taken and would have been turned against them. only fourteen men were found unhurt in the fort and about nine or ten wounded, who had hid themselves among the dead. they told morgan that they were all that were left of a garrison of soldiers. the governor, seeing that he was lost, had despatched the survivors to panama to alarm the city, and remained behind to die. no officer was left alive; they had been the first to set their men the example of a glorious death. it appeared that a buccaneer deserter, an irishman, whom morgan had not even informed of his design, had come to the port, and assured them of the attack on la rancheria, and the contemplated movement on panama. the governor of that place had instantly sent to chagres a reinforcement of men, with ammunition and provisions, and had placed ambuscades along the river. he was at that very moment, they said, awaiting them in the savannah with men: of these were infantry, cavalry, and indians. he had also employed muleteers and hunters to collect a drove of wild cattle to drive down upon the invaders. "the taking of this castle," says esquemeling, "cost the pirates excessively dear, in comparison to what they were wont to lose, and their toil and labour was greater than at the conquest of the isle of st. catherine." on numbering their thinned ranks, many voices were silent at the roll call. more than men were found to be dead, and more than seventy grievously wounded. there were sixty who could not rise, and many in the ranks wore on their arms strips of the spanish colours, or had their heads bound round with bloody cloths. the prisoners they compelled to drag their own dead to the edge of the cliffs and cast them among the shattered bodies on the beach, and then to bury them where the sea could not wash them out of their graves, or the birds devour them. the castle chapel they turned into an hospital for the wounded, and the female slaves were employed to tend them, for the surgeons in the heat of battle had only had time to amputate a limb or bind an artery. chapter ii. conquest of panama. march from chagres--famine--ambuscade of indians--wild bulls driven down upon them--victory--battle of the forts--takes the city--burns part of it--cruelties--debauchery--retreat with prisoners--virtue of the spanish prisoner, and her sufferings--ransom--division of booty--treason of morgan--escapes by night to jamaica--dispersion of the fleet--morgan's subsequent fate. the bodies of their comerades, who had died that they who survived might conquer, were buried, not without some tears even from these rude men, in large (plague pit) graves, dug by the prisoners. the women were violated in the first fury of the sack. during their plunder they found a great quantity of provisions and ammunitions stored up for the use of the fleet. their next act was to repair the fort and render it tenable. morgan, instantly informed of the fall of chagres, did not remain long behind. having first collected all the indian wheat and cassava he could carry, he embarked his prisoners and provisions, taking with him don joseph ramirez de leiba, the governor, and the chief officers. the cannon he spiked or threw into the sea, in places where he might recover them, intending to return and fortify the place, as a stronghold if his design on panama failed. the forts, and church, and house he fired, with the exception of the castle of santa teresa. in sailing to chagres a storm arose and dispersed his vessels, keeping them many days at sea. the admiral, always watchful in danger, suffered himself for a moment to sleep in the hour of prosperity. when he approached the river mouth and saw the english flag floating from the blackened walls, he could not restrain the heedless joy of his crew--not waiting for the pilot canoe that was putting out to warn them of their danger, he drove on the sunken rock at the foot of the castle hill. his own and three other vessels sank, yet the crews and cargoes were all saved, and but for a strong "norther" the ships themselves would have been preserved. brought into the castle with acclamations and hearty congratulations at his escape, morgan employed the spanish prisoners from st. catherine's in repairing the palisading of the fort, carefully destroying all thatched sheds for fear of fire. he then chose a garrison by lot, and divided the stores. he heard with delight the details of the victory, and lamented the absent dead and the many brave men that had shared so often his own hopes and fears. his next movement was to seize some _chatten_, or small spanish vessels that were still in the river. they were small craft that went to and fro between chagres and porto bello, or nicaragua, or plied with merchandise up and down the river. they mounted six guns, two iron, and four small brass, and were navigated by six men. he also took four small frigates of fourteen and eight guns, and all the canoes he could lay hands on, requiring them for the expedition. he left behind him men, under command of captain le maurice, and men to guard the ships. for panama, morgan took with him of the best armed and the most robust of his band, five boats with artillery, and thirty-two canoes. he imprudently carried little provisions, expecting to obtain plenty from the spaniards they should kill in the ambuscades. in spite of the recent victory, and of morgan's certainty of conquest, many of the buccaneers were less sanguine than on former expeditions. the spanish prisoners had succeeded in alarming them by rumours of the dangers and intricacy of the road, and the ambuscades that had been two months in preparation. some, more superstitious than the rest, thought the wreck of morgan's ship, and the severe loss at chagres, bad omens for their success at panama. but these were mocked at by the rest, as white-livered, and morgan having divided the provisions between the garrison and the st. catherine prisoners, reviewed his men, and examined himself their arms and ammunition. he quieted their fears and spoke of victory as already obtained. he exhorted them to show more than usual courage, in order to return as soon as possible rich and glorious to jamaica. with a shout of "long live the king of england, and long live henry morgan," they began their march towards the doomed city on the th of january, . the first day they advanced only six leagues to rio de los braços, where they got out of their canoes to sleep on shore, being crippled with overcrowding in the boats. they could have brought no provisions, for few had any food that day, but a pipe of tobacco "to stop the orifice of the stomach." they could find nothing in the deserted plantations, where even the unripe fruits had been plucked and the roots pulled up before their arrival. the men longed to fight, in order that they might eat. by noon of the next day they reached cruz de juan gallego, where they were obliged to leave their canoes; the river was very dry and shallow from want of rain, and much impeded with fallen trees, but their hopes were excited by the guide's intelligence, that about two leagues further the roads grew better. here they left their boats with men to guard them, as a resource in case of defeat, giving them strict injunctions not to land for fear of ambuscades in the neighbouring woods, which were so thick as to seem impenetrable. finding the forest almost impassable, morgan ordered a few of the canoes to be rowed, though with immense labour, to a place called cedro bueno, further up the river, taking half the men at a time and returning for the rest, so by nightfall all the men were once more united. from discovering no ambuscades, in spite of all the wishes of these hungry soldiers, it was supposed that the spanish spies, willing to avoid a fight, had frightened their officers by exaggerating the number of the adventurers. on the third day morgan sent forward some guides, who could find no road, the country being flat, inundated, and marshy. the men, who had scarcely eaten anything since their departure, grew faint and hungry, and a few of them gathered the leaves from the forest trees. it being night before they could pass the river, they slept on the bank, exposed, half-clothed as they were, to the tropical damps and cold. the fourth day's march they advanced in divisions; the largest went by land, the smaller in canoes. the guides were always kept two musket shots in advance, to give notice of ambuscades, and in hopes of capturing stragglers who might furnish intelligence. but the spaniards had also scouts, very wary, and very "dexterous" in giving notice of all accidents, frequently bringing the panama men intelligence of the buccaneers' approach six hours before the enemy arrived. about noon the army reached a post named torna cavallos, so called probably from the roughness of the road, and at this spot the guide of the canoes cried out that he saw an ambuscade. with infinite joy, the hungry men, thirsting for blood, flew to arms, knowing that the spaniards always went luxuriously provided with food, and knowing that a dead spaniard could want no more provender. as soon as they came within sight of the entrenchment, which was shaped like a half-moon, and the palisading formed of entire trees, they uttered a dreadful shout, and, driven on by rage and hunger, began to race like starved wolves, seeing which could first cross swords with the enemy, whom they believed to be about strong. but their hearts fell within them when they found the place a mere deserted rampart, and all the provisions, but a few crumbs which lay scattered about, either burnt or carried off. some leather bags lay here and there, as if left in a hasty retreat. enraged at this, they at once pulled down the spanish huts, and cutting the leather bags, tore them up for food. quarrels then arose for the largest messes, but before they could well finish this unsavoury banquet, the drum sounded for the march. about spaniards seem to have held these entrenchments, and many of the men threatened to devour the first fugitive they could meet with. about night they reached another deserted ambuscade, called torna munni, equally bare of food, and the remainder of the bags were now devoured. those fortunate enough to obtain a strip first soaked slices of it in water, next beat it between two stones, then scraped off the hair with their hunters' knives, and, roasting it in the fire, ate it leisurely in small pieces. "i can assure the reader," says oexmelin, "that a man can live on this fare, but he can hardly get _very fat_." frequent draughts of water (which, by good fortune, they had at hand) seasoned this not very palatable food of men accustomed to revel on venison and brandy. "some who were never out of their mothers' kitchens," says esquemeling, "may ask how these pirates could eat and digest those pieces of leather, so hard and dry, whom i answer, that could they once experience what hunger, or rather famine, is, they would find the way as the pirates did." the fifth day at noon they arrived at a place called barbacoa, where there were more deserted barricades, and the adjacent plantations were equally bare of either man, animal, or plant. searching with all the zeal and perseverance of hungry men, they found at last, buried in the floor of a cave lately hewn out of the rock, two sacks of flour, two jars of wine, and some plantains, and morgan generously divided these among the most exhausted of his troops, some being now nearly dead with famine. the flour they mixed with water, and, wrapping the dough in banana leaves, baked it in the fire. somewhat refreshed, they renewed their march with increased skill and vigour. the lagging men they placed in the canoes, till they reached at night some deserted plantations known as the tabernillas, where they slept. on the sixth day they marched slowly, after resting a time from real weakness, some of the strongest being sent into the woods to pluck berries and pull roots, many even eating leaves and grass. the same day at noon they arrived at a plantation. eagerly foraging here, but not expecting to find anything, they turned a little from the road, and came upon a barn full of maize in the husk. beating down the door, they fell upon it and devoured it as rapaciously as a herd of swine, till they fell off satiated. a distribution was then made of it to each man, for hunger does not care for cooking. loaded with this grain they continued their march in high spirits for about two hours, when they came suddenly on about indians, and soon after passed a deserted ambuscade. those who had maize still left threw it away, thinking that the spaniards and better food were at hand. these archers were on the opposite side of the river. the buccaneers, firing, killed a few, and pursued the others as far as santa cruz. the nimblest escaped by swimming, and two or three adventurers, who waded after them, were pierced with arrows at the ford. the indians, as they fled, hooted--"ah perros ingleses, à la savanah, à la savanah:" "_english dogs, english dogs, come to the savannah._" passing the river they were now compelled to begin their march on the opposite side. there was little sleep that night, but great dejection, and murmurs arose against captain morgan and his conduct. he was blamed for not having brought provisions, and for not having yet met the spaniards; condemned for irreconcilable errors, and reviled for even his past successes. some declared they would return home, others would willingly have done so, yet were afraid to retreat; but a large party declared they would rather die than go back a step. one of the guides, perhaps bribed by morgan, promised that it should not be long before they met with people from whom they should derive no small advantage, and this comforted them. a tinge of superstition would have soon converted this into one of those prophecies by which cromwell and cortes both consoled their desponding troopers. on the seventh morning, expecting enemies, the men all cleaned their arms, and every one discharged his musket and pistols without ball to let the spaniards hear they were coming, and that their ammunition was not damaged. leaving santa cruz, where they had rested, they crossed the river in their canoes, and arrived at the town of cruz. at some distance from cruz they had beheld to their great joy a great smoke rising above the roofs, which they thought arose from kitchen chimneys, and quickening their pace they began to laugh, and shout, and leap,--joking at the spanish waste of fuel, and saying, "the spanish cooks are roasting meat for our dinner when we have mastered their masters;" but as the smoke grew thicker, they began to think that the enemy were burning some houses that interfered with the fire of the entrenchments. two hours after, on arriving panting and hot at cruz, they found the place deserted and stripped, and no meat, but many fires, for every spaniard had burnt his own house, and only the royal store-house and stables were left standing. a few crackling ruins were all that remained of the great halfway house between chagres and panama, for here the chagres merchandise was always landed and transported to panama on the backs of mules, being distant only twenty-six spanish leagues from the river of chagres, and eight from panama. the disappointed buccaneers spent the remainder of the day at cruz in seeking food and resting. every cat and dog was soon killed and eaten, for the cattle had been all driven off. morgan, growing now more strict in discipline, gave orders that no party of less than men should leave the town. five or six englishmen who disobeyed the order were killed by the indians. in the king's stables fifteen or sixteen jars of peruvian wine were found, and a leather sack full of biscuit. morgan, afraid that his men would fall into excesses, spread a report that the spaniards had poisoned the wine--a report confirmed by the violent sickness of all who drank of it; although half-starved men, fed for a week on vegetable refuse, would have been injured by any excess. it was, however, eagerly drunk, and would have been had there been death in every cup. this sickness detained them a day at cruz. the canoes, being now useless, were sent back, guarded by sixty men, to join the other boats, one alone being hid in a thicket for fear of any emergency or any necessity arising, and to transmit intelligence to the vessels. he feared that, if left at cruz, they might be captured, and would at least require an extra guard. on the eighth day at morning morgan reviewed his troop, and found he had able and resolute men still at his back. he persuaded them that their comerade who was carried off by the indians had returned, having only lost his way in the woods, fearing they might be discouraged at his disappearance. he then chose a band of the best marksmen as a forlorn hope, and a "hundred of these men," says oexmelin, "are worth six hundred of any other nation." he divided the remainder into a van and wings, knowing that he should have to pass many places where not more than two men could pass abreast. after ten hours' march they arrived at a place called _quebrada obscura_, a dark wooded gorge where the sunlight rarely entered. here, on a sudden, a shower of or arrows poured down upon them, killing eight or nine men, and wounding ten. these arrows came from an indian ambuscade hid on a wooded and rocky mountain, perforated by a natural arch, through which only one laden beast could pass. the buccaneers, though they could see nothing but rocks and trees, instantly returned the fire, and two indians rolled down into the path. one of these, who appeared to be a chief, for he wore a coronet of variegated feathers, attempted to stab an english adventurer with his javelin, but a companion, parrying the thrust with his sabre, slew the indian. this brave man was, it is supposed, the leader of the ambuscade, for the savages seeing him fall took at once to flight, and never discharged another shaft. as they entered a wood the rest of the indians fled to seize the next height, from whence they might observe them and harass their march. the buccaneers found them too swift to capture, and pursued them in vain: but two or three of the wounded fugitives were found dead in the road. a few armed and disciplined men could have made this pass good against a hundred, but these indians were now scattered and without a leader, and they had only fired at random, and in haste, through trees and thickets that intercepted their arrows. on leaving this defile the buccaneers entered a broad prairie, where they rested while the wounded were tended. at a long distance before them they could see the indians on a rocky eminence, commanding the road where they must pass. fifty active men were dispatched to take them in the rear in the hopes of obtaining some prisoners, but all in vain, for the indians were not only more agile but knew all the passes. two hours after they were seen at about two gunshots' distance, on the same eminence from which they had been just driven, while the buccaneers were now on an opposite height, and between them lay a wood. the buccaneers supposed that a spanish ambuscade was hid here, for whenever they came near enough the indians cried out "À la savanah, à la savanah, cornudos perros ingleses:" "to the savannah, to the savannah, you cuckold english dogs." morgan sent men to search this wood, and upon this the spaniards and indians came down from the mountain as if to attack them, but appeared no more. about night, a great rain falling, the buccaneers marched faster, in order to prevent their arms getting wet, but they could find no houses to barrack in, for the indians had burnt them all and driven away the cattle, hoping to starve out the men whom they could not drive out. they left the main road after diligent search, and found a few shepherds' huts, but too few to shelter all their company; they therefore piled their arms, and chose a small number from each company to guard them. those who slept in the open air endured much hardship, the rain not ceasing all night. they made temporary sheds, which they covered with boughs, in order to sleep under a shelter, however imperfect; and sentinels were placed, morgan being afraid of the indians, who chose wet nights for their onslaughts, when fire-arms were often useless. next morning very early, being the ninth of their tedious journey, they recommenced their march, morgan bidding them all discharge their guns and then reload them, for fear of the wet having damped the powder. the fresh air of the morning, clear after the storm, was still about them, and the clouds had not yet yielded to the tropical sun as they pushed on over a path more difficult than before. in about two hours' time a band of twenty spaniards began to appear in the distance, and the indians were also visible, but morgan could obtain no prisoners, though he offered a reward of crowns for every spaniard brought in. when pursued the enemy hid themselves in caves and eluded all search. at last, toiling slowly up a high mountain, the adventurers unexpectedly beheld from the top the south sea glittering in the distance. this caused them as great joy as the sight of "thalatta" did to the soldiers of xenophon. they thought their expedition now completed, for to them victory was a certainty. they could discern upon the sea, never before beheld, a large ship and six small boats setting forth from panama to the islands of tavoga and tavogilla, which were only six leagues distant. fortune smiled upon them to-day, for, descending this mountain, they came into a grassy prairie valley, full of all sorts of cattle, which were being pursued by mounted spaniards, who fled at the sight of the buccaneers. upon these animals morgan's men rushed with the avidity of half-starved hunters, the eagerness of sailors to obtain fresh meat, and all the haste that brave men exhibit to get at an enemy. one shot a horse, another felled a cow, but the greater part slaughtered the mules, which were the most numerous. some kindled fires, others collected wood, and the strongest hunted the cattle, while the invalids slew, and skinned, and flayed. the whole plain was soon alight with a hundred fires. the hungry men cut off lumps of flesh, carbonadoed them in the flame, and ate them half raw with incredible haste and ferocity. "they resembled," esquemeling says, "rather cannibals than christians, the blood running down their beards to the middle of their bodies." but no hunger, no fear, no passion threw morgan off his guard. hungry and weary himself, and sympathising with his men's hunger, he saw the danger of this reckless gluttony, which produced a reaction of inertness as dangerous as intoxication. dreading surprise, for he was surrounded by enemies, he beat a false alarm, and seizing their arms, his men, ashamed of their excess, renewed their march. the remainder of the meat, half-roasted or quite raw, they strung to their bandoliers. "the very look of these men," says esquemeling, "was enough to have terrified the boldest, for we know that in love as well as war, the eyes are the soonest conquered." morgan, anxious at not having yet obtained a prisoner as guide, again despatched a vanguard of fifty men, who about evening saw in the distance spaniards, who shouted to them they knew not what. soon after, almost at dusk, mounting a small eminence, they saw a better sight than even the south sea--the highest steeples of panama, bright in the sunset; upon this, like the german soldiers at the sight of the rhine, the buccaneers gave three cheers, to show their extreme joy, leaping and shouting, and throwing their hats into the air as if they had already won the victory. at the same time the drums beat stormily and proudly, and each man shot off his piece, while the red flag was displayed and waved in defiance of the spaniard, and high above all the trumpet sounded. the camp was pitched for the night by the men, who waited impatiently for the morning when the battle should join; with equal pride and courage mounted spaniards shouted in return as they dashed up within musket shot, "to-morrow, to-morrow, ye dogs, we shall meet in the savannah;" and as they ended, their trumpet sounded clearer than even that of morgan's. these horsemen were soon joined by several companies of infantry and several squadrons of cavalry, who wheeled round them within cannon shot. these troops had been despatched when the sounds of the buccaneers' approach reached the gates of the city. there were still two hours of light, but morgan determined not to fight till early in the morning, when he might be able to move freely in the unknown country, and when there would be a whole clear, bright day for the battle. as night drew on all the spaniards retired to the city, excepting seven or eight troopers, who hovered about to watch the enemy's motions and give the alarm, if a night attack was contemplated. on his side morgan placed double sentinels, and every now and then ordered false alarms to be beat to keep his men on the alert. those who had any meat left ate it raw, as they had often done when hunters. no fires were allowed to be kindled, and the men lying, ready armed, on the grass, waited eagerly for the daylight. cavaliers again joined the spanish scouts, and affected to maintain a strict blockade, and the city all night played with its biggest guns upon the camp, but being at so great a distance did little harm to the buccaneers. at daybreak of the tenth day of their march the spaniards beat the _diane_, and morgan, replying heartily, began with great eagerness to push forward to the city, the spaniards wheeling cautiously around his wings. one of the guides warned morgan against the high road, which he knew would be blocked up and crowded with ambuscades, and the army defiled into a wood to the right, where the passage was so difficult that none but buccaneers could have forced a way, "very irksome indeed," says esquemeling. the spaniards, completely baffled and astonished by this diversion, left their batteries in a hurry, and, without any distinct plan of attack, crowded out into the plain. after two hours' march the buccaneers reached the top of a small hill. from this eminence they could now see their goal, and panama, with all the roofs that hid its treasure, lay before them. below, on the plain, they might also discern the spanish army drawn up in battalia, awaiting their descent. even esquemeling admits that the forces seemed numerous. "there were two squadrons of cavalry, four regiments of foot, and a still more terrible enemy, a huge number of wild bulls, roaring and tossing their horns, driven by a great number of indians, and a few negroes and mounted matadors." the historian, more truthful in his confessions than his boasts, says, "they were surprised with fear, much doubting the fortune of the day; yea, few or none there were but wished themselves at home, or at least free from the obligation of that engagement, it so nearly concerning their lives. having been for some time wavering in their minds, they at last reflected on the strait they had brought themselves into, and that now they must either fight resolutely or die, for no quarter could be expected from an enemy on whom they had committed so many cruelties. hereupon they encouraged one another, resolving to conquer or spend the last drop of their blood." they then divided themselves into three battalions, sending before buccaneers, very dexterous at their guns, who descended the hill, marching directly upon the spaniards, and the battle closed. the spanish cavalry uttered cries of joy, as if they were going to a bull-fight. the infantry shouted "viva el rey!" and the vari-coloured silks of their doublets glistened in the sun. the buccaneers, giving three cheers, charged upon the enemy. the forlorn hope morgan despatched against the cavalry and the bulls. the cavalry galloped forward to meet them, but, the ground being marshy, they could not advance with speed, and sank one by one before the unceasing dropping fire of buccaneers, who fell on one knee and poured in a full volley of shot, the foot and horse in vain trying to break through this hot line of flame and death. the bulls proved as fatal to those who employed them, as the elephants to porus. driven on the rear of the buccaneers, they took fright at the noise of the battle, a few only broke through the english companies, and trampled the red colours under foot, but these were soon shot by the old hunters; a few fled to the savannah, and the rest tore back and carried havoc through the spanish ranks. the firing lasted for two hours; at the end of that time the cavalry and infantry had separated, and the troopers had fled, only about fifty of their number succeeding in escaping. the infantry, discouraged at their defeat, and despairing of success, fired off one more volley, and then threw down their arms; the victory was won. morgan, having no cavalry, could not pursue, and a mountain soon hid the fugitives from the buccaneers' sight, who would not follow, expecting the flight was a mere decoy to lure them into an ambuscade. the buccaneers, weary and faint, threw themselves down to rest. a few spaniards, found hiding in the bushes by the sea-shore, were at once slain, and several cordeliers belonging to the army, being dragged before morgan, were pistolled in spite of all their cries and entreaties. a spanish captain of cavalry was taken prisoner by the english musketeers, who had hitherto given no quarter, and confessed that the governor of panama had led out that morning men, bulls, horse, and twenty-four companies of foot, men in each, sixty indians, and some negroes. in the city, he said, were many trenches and batteries, and at the entrance a fort with fifty men and eight brass guns. the women and wealth had all been sent to tavoga, and men with twenty-eight pieces of cannon were inside the town, defended by ramparts of flour sacks. the ambuscade had been waiting fifteen days in the savannah, expecting morgan. on reviewing their men, the english found a much greater number of killed and wounded than they had expected, so esquemeling confesses, but does not give the number. oexmelin puts the loss at only two killed and two wounded, an incredible statement, trustworthy as he generally is. the spaniards lost men. "the pirates, nothing discouraged," says the former historian, "seeing their number so diminished, but rather filled with greater pride, perceiving what huge advantage they had obtained against their enemies, having rested some time, prepared to march courageously towards the city, plighting their oaths one to another, that they would fight till not a man was left alive. with this courage they recommenced their march, either to conquer or be conquered, carrying with them all the prisoners." they avoided the high road from vera cruz, on which the spaniards had placed a battery of eight pieces of cannon, and selecting that from porto bello, they advanced to the town before the people could rally, and while the exaggerated rumours of the defeat were still uncontradicted. trembling fugitives filled the streets, and terror was in every face. the spaniards fought desperately, but without hope. in spite of morgan's endeavour to maintain strict discipline, his men began to undervalue the enemy, and to advance straggling and reckless. the spaniards, observing this, fired a broadside, killing twenty-five or thirty of the vanguard at the first discharge, and wounding nearly as many, but before they could reload were overpowered and slain at their guns, the buccaneers stabbing all whom they met. of this attack, esquemeling gives the following graphic but rambling account: "they found much difficulty in their approach to the city, for within the town the spaniards had placed many great guns at several quarters, some charged with small pieces of iron, and others with musket bullets. with all these they saluted the pirates at their approaching, and gave them full and frequent broadsides, firing at them incessantly, so that unavoidably they shot at every step great numbers of men. but neither these manifest dangers of their lives, nor the sight of so many as dropped continually at their sides, could deter them from advancing, and gaining ground every moment on the enemy; and though the spaniards never ceased to fire and act the best they could for their defence, yet they were forced to yield after three hours' combat, and the pirates having possessed themselves, killed and destroyed all that attempted in the least to oppose them." morgan was now master of panama, as he had been of st. catherine's, la rancheria, maracaibo, and gibraltar, but his vigilance did not yet relax. as soon as the first fury of their entrance was over, he assembled his men, and commanded them, under great penalties, not to drink or taste any wine, as he had been informed by a prisoner that it had been poisoned by the spaniards. though much wealth had been hidden, great warehouses of merchandise, they rejoiced to find, were still well stocked with silks, cloths, and linens. morgan's only fear now was, that with so small a body of men as remained to him, the spaniards might rally, or his men, grown intoxicated by success and intent on plunder, be cut off without resistance. having placed guards at all the important points of defence within and without the city, he ordered twenty-five men to seize a boat laden with merchandise, that owing to the low water in the harbour could not put out to sea. the command of this vessel he gave to an english captain. the houses of panama were built chiefly of cedar, and a few of stone. fortunately, michael scott sketches for us nearly the whole scenery of morgan's march. one side of the harbour of chagres is formed, he says, by a small promontory that runs yards into the sea. this bright little bay looks upon an opposite shore, long and muddy, and covered with mangroves to the water's brink. on the uttermost bluff is a narrow hill, with a fort erected on its apex. the rock is precipitous on three sides. the river of chagres is about yards across, and very deep. it rolls sluggishly along, through a low, swampy country. it is covered down to the water with thick sedges and underwood, and where the water is stagnating, generates mosquitoes and fevers. the gigantic trees grow close to the water, and are laced together by black, snake-like withes. here and there, black, slimy banks of mud slope out near the shore, and on these, monstrous alligators roll or sleep, like logs of rotting drift-wood. for some miles below cruz, where the river ceases to be navigable by canoes, oars are laid aside, and long poles used to propel the boats, like punts, over the shoals. panama is distant about seven leagues from cruz. the roads are only passable for mules: in some places it has been hewn out of the rock, and zig-zags along the face of hills, in parts scarcely passable for two persons meeting. "the scenery on each side is very beautiful, as the road winds for the most part amongst steeps, overshadowed by magnificent trees, among which birds of all sizes, and of the most gorgeous plumage, are perpetually glancing, while a monkey every here and there sits grimacing and chattering overhead. the small, open savannahs gradually grow larger, and the clear spaces widen, until the forest you have been travelling under breaks into beautiful clumps of trees, like those of a gentleman's park, and every here and there are placed clear pieces of water, spreading out full of pond-turtle, and short grass, that sparkles in the dew." as you approach the town, the open spaces become more frequent, until at length you gain a rising ground, about three miles from panama, where the view is enchanting. below lies the city, and the broad pacific, dotted with ships, lies broad and glassy beyond. basil hall, an accurate but less poetical observer, sketches the bay of panama, its beach fringed with plantations shaded by groves of oranges, figs, and limes, the tamarinds surmounting all but the feathery tops of the cocoa-nut trees; the ground hidden with foliage, among which peep cane-built huts and canoes pulling to shore. tavoga he describes as a tangle of trees and flowers. "the houses of the city, very curious and magnificent," says esquemeling, "and richly adorned with paintings and hangings, of which a part only had been removed." the buildings were all stately, and the streets broad and well arranged. there were within the walls eight monasteries, a cathedral, and an hospital, attended by the religious. the churches and monasteries were richly adorned with paintings, and in the subsequent fire may have perished some of the masterpieces of titian, murillo, or velasquez. the gold plate and fittings of these buildings the priests had concealed. the number of rich houses was computed at , and the smaller shops, &c., at additional. the grandest buildings in the town were the genoese warehouses connected with the slave trade; there were also long rows of stables, where the horses and mules were kept that were used to convey the royal plate from the south to the north pacific ocean. before the city, like offerings spread before a throne, lay rich plantations and pleasant gardens. panama was the city to which all the treasures of peru were annually brought. the plate fleet, laden with bars of gold and silver, arrived here at certain periods brimming with the crown wealth, as well as that of private merchants. it returned laden with the merchandise of panama and the spanish main, to be sold in peru and chili, and still oftener with droves of negro slaves that the genoese imported from the coast of guinea to toil and die in the peruvian mines. so wealthy was this golden city that more than , mules were employed in the transport of the gold and silver from thence to porto bello, where the galleons were loaded. the merchants of panama were proverbially the richest in the whole spanish west indies. the governor of panama was the suzerain of porto bello, of nata, cruz, veragua, &c., and the bishop of panama was primate of the terra firma, and suffragan to the archbishop of peru. the district of panama was the most fertile and healthy of all the spanish colonies, rich in mines, and so well wooded that its ship-timber peopled with vessels both the northern and the southern seas; its land yielded full crops, and its broad savannahs pastured innumerable herds of wild cattle. the buccaneers found the booty in the half-devastated town ample beyond their expectations, in spite of all that had been destroyed, buried, or removed. the stores were still full of wealth, which not even a month of alarm had given the merchants time to remove to their overcharged vessels. some rooms were choked with corn, and others piled high with iron, tools, plough-shares, &c., for peru. in many was found "metal more attractive," in the shape of wine, olive oil, and spices, while silks, cloths, and linen lay around in costly heaps. morgan, still afraid of surprise, resorted to a reckless scheme to avert the danger. the very night he entered panama he set fire to a few of the chief buildings, and before morning the greater part of the city was in a flame, although the first blaze had been detected in the suburbs. no one knew his motive, and few that the enemy had not done it. he carefully spread a report, both among the prisoners and his own people, that the spaniards themselves were the authors of the fire. the citizens and even the english strove to extinguish the flames, by blowing up some houses with gunpowder and pulling down others, but being of wood, the fire spread rapidly from roof to roof. in less than half an hour a whole street was consumed. the genoese warehouses and many of the slaves were burnt, and only one church was left standing; store buildings were destroyed. oexmelin seems to lament chiefly the slaves and merchandise, and scarcely even affects a regret for the stately city. the ruins continued to smoke and smoulder for a month, and at daybreak of the morning after their arrival, little of the great city they had lately seen glorious in the sunset remained but the president's house, where morgan and his staff lodged, a small clump of muleteers' cottages, and two convents, that of st. joseph and that of the brothers of the redemption. still fearful of surprise, the adventurers encamped outside the walls in the fields, from a wish to avoid the confusion, and in order to keep together in case of an attack by a superior force. the wounded were put into the only church that had escaped the fire. the next day morgan despatched men to chagres to announce his victory, and to see that his garrison wanted for nothing. they met whole troops of spaniards running to and fro in the savannah, but, in spite of their expectations, they never rallied. in the afternoon the buccaneers re-entered the city, and selected houses of the few left to barrack in. they then dragged all the available cannon they could find and placed them round the church of the fathers of the trinity, which they entrenched. in this they placed in separate places the wounded and the prisoners. the evening they spent in searching the ruins for gold, melted or hidden, and found much spoil, especially in wells and cisterns. a few hours after, morgan's vessels returned with three prizes, laden with plate and other booty, taken in the south sea. the day they sailed, arriving at one of the small islands of refuge near panama, they took a sloop with its crew of seven men, belonging to a royal spanish vessel of tons, laden with church plate and jewels, removed by the richest merchants in panama; there were also on board all the religious women of the nunnery, with the valuable ornaments of their church, and she was so deeply laden as not to require ballast. it carried only seven guns and a dozen muskets, had no more sails than the "uppermost of the mizen," was short of ammunition and food, and even of water. the buccaneers received this intelligence from some indians who had spoken to the seamen of the galleon when they came ashore in a cock-boat for water. had they given chase they might have easily captured it, but captain clark let the golden opportunity slip through his hands. thinking himself sure of his prize as he had got her sloop, his men spent the night in drinking the rich wines they found in the sloop, and reposing in the arms of their spanish mistresses, the more beautiful for their tears and despair. during these debaucheries the galleon slipped by and was no more seen, and so they lost a prize of greater value than all the treasure found in panama. in the morning, weary of the revel, they crowded all sail and despatched a well-armed boat to pursue the cripple, ascertaining that the spanish ship was in bad sailing order and incapable of making any resistance. in the islands of tavoga and tavogilla they captured several boats laden with merchandise. informed by a prisoner of the probable moorings of the galleon, morgan, enraged at her escape, sent every boat in panama in pursuit of her, bidding them seek till they found her. they were eight days cruising from port to creek. returning to the isles, they found here a large ship newly come from payta, laden with cloth, soap, sugar, biscuit, and , pieces of eight; another small boat near was also taken and laden with the divided merchandise. with these glimpses of wealth the boats returned to panama somewhat consoled for the loss of their larger prize. the buccaneers' vessels now began to excite the astonishment of the spaniards, they being the first englishmen, since drake, who had appeared as enemies on those seas. during this expedition morgan had employed the rest of his men in scouring the country in daily companies of , one party relieving another, and perpetually bringing in flocks of pale and bleeding prisoners, or mules laden with treasure. some tortured the captives, others explored the mines, and the rest burnt glittering heaps of gold and silver stuffs, merely to obtain the metal, expecting to have to fight their way back to their ships at chagres, and not wishing to be encumbered with unwieldy bundles on that toilsome and dangerous march. morgan, complaining much of the fruitless labours of his foragers, at last placed himself at the head of men, and sallied into the country to torture every wealthy spaniard he could meet. the following anecdote presents us with such a complete picture of the demoralisation of a panic, that it reminds us of thucydides' description of athens during the plague, or boccaccio's of florence during the raging of the pest. on one occasion morgan's men met with a poor spaniard, who, during the general confusion, had strolled into a rich man's house and dressed himself in the costume of a merchant of rank. he had just stripped off his rags, and, first luxuriating in a change of costly dutch linen, had slipped on a pair of breeches of fine red taffety, and picking up the silver key of some coffer, had tied it to one of his points. esquemeling represents the man as a poor retainer of the house. he was still wondering childishly at his unwonted finery, when the buccaneers broke into the house and seized him as a prize. finding him richly dressed and in a fine house, they believed him at once to be the master. his story they treated as a subtle invention. in vain he pointed to the black rags he had thrown off--in vain he protested, by all the saints, that he lived on charity, and had wandered in there and put on the clothes by the merest chance, and without a motive but of venial theft. spying the little key at his girdle they became sure that he lied, and they demanded where he had hid his cabinet. they had at first laughed at his ingenious story--they now grew angry at his denials of wealth. they stretched him on the rack and disjointed his arms, they twisted a cord round his wrinkled forehead "till his eyes appeared as big as eggs, and were ready to fall out," and as he still refused to answer, they hung him up and loaded him with stripes. they then cut off his nose and ears, singing his face with burning straw till he could not even groan or scream, and at last, despairing of obtaining a confession, gave him over to their attendant band of negroes to put him to death with their lances. "the common sport and recreation of the pirates," says esquemeling, "being such cruelties." they spared no sex, age, or condition; priest or nun, peasant or noble, old man, maiden, and child were all stretched on the same bed of torture. they granted no quarter to any who could not pay a ransom, or who would not pay it speedily. the most beautiful of the prisoners became their mistresses, and the virtuous were treated with rigour and cruelty. captain morgan himself seduced the fairest by alternate presents and threats. there were women found base enough to forsake their religion and their homes to become the harlots of a pirate and a murderer. but to his iron heart love found a way, and enervated the mind of the man whom nothing before could soften. after ten days spent in the country beyond the walls, morgan returned to panama, and found a shipload of spanish prisoners newly arrived. amongst these was a woman of exquisite beauty, the wife of a spanish merchant, then absent on business in peru. he had left her in the care of some relations, with whom she was captured. esquemeling says: "her years were few, and her beauty so great, as, peradventure, i may doubt whether in all christendom any could be found to surpass her perfections, either of comeliness or honesty." oexmelin, a more skilful observer, and who saw her, being a sharer in the expedition, describes her hair as ink black, and her complexion of dazzling purity. her eyes were piercing, and the spanish pride, usually so cold and repulsive, served in her only as a foil to her surpassing beauty, and to attract respect. the roughest sailors and rudest hunters grew eloquent when they praised her. the common men would willingly have drawn swords for such a prize. but their commander was already the slave of her whom he had captured. his demeanour changed: he was no longer brutal and truculent: he became sociable in manner, and more attentive to the richness of his dress, for lovers grow either more careless or more regardful of their attire. the buccaneer's aspect was changed. he separated the lady from the other prisoners, and treated her with marked respect. an old negress, who waited on her, served at once as an attendant and a spy. she was told to assure her mistress, that the buccaneers were gentlemen and no thieves, and men who knew what politeness and gallantry were as well as any. the lady wept and entreated to be placed with the other prisoners, for she had heard that her relations were afraid of some plot against her good fame. the lady, like other spanish women, had been told by their priests and husbands, that the buccaneers had the shape of beasts and not of men. the more intelligent reported they were robbers, murderers, and heretics; men who forswore the holy trinity, and did not believe in jesus christ. "the _oaths_ of _morgan_," says esquemeling, with most commendable gravity, "_soon convinced her that he had heard of a god_." it was said, that a woman of panama who had long desired to see a pirate, on their first entrance into the city cried out, "jesu maria, the thieves are men, like the spaniards, after all;" and some volunteers, when they went out to meet morgan's army, had promised to bring home a pirate's head as a curiosity. morgan, refusing to restore the beauty to her friends, treated her with more flattering care than before. tapestries, robes, jewels, and perfumes, lay at her disposal. such kindness, after all, was cheap generosity, and part of this treasure may even have been her husband's. in her innocence, she began to think better of the buccaneers. they might be thieves, but they were not, she found, atheists, nor very cruel, for captain morgan sent her dishes from his own table. she at first received his visits with gratitude and pleasure, surprised at the rough, frank kindness of the seaman, and loudly denounced his slanderers, that had so cruelly attempted to poison her mind against him, her guardian and protector. the snares were well set, and the bird was fluttering in. but heaven preserved her, and she passed through the furnace unhurt. morgan soon threw off his disguise, and offered her all the treasures of the indies if she would become his mistress. she refused his presents of gold and pearl, and resisted all his artifices. in vain he tried alternately kindness and severity. he threatened her with a thousand cruelties, and she replied, that her life was in his hands, but that her body should remain pure, though her soul was torn from it. on his advancing nearer, and threatening violence, she drew out a poignard, and would have slain him or herself, had he not left her uninjured. enraged at her pride, as he miscalled her virtue, he determined to break her spirit by suffering. she was stripped of her richest apparel, and thrown into a dark cellar, with scarcely enough food allowed her to support life, and the chief demanded , piastres as her ransom, to prevent her being sold as a slave in jamaica. under this hardship the lady prayed like a second una daily to god, for constancy and patience. morgan, now convinced of her purity, and afraid of his men, who already began to express openly their sympathy with her sufferings, to account for his cruelty, accused her to his council of having abused his kindness by corresponding with the spaniards, and declared that he had intercepted a letter written in her own hand. "i myself," says esquemeling, "was an eye-witness of the lady's sufferings, and could never have judged such constancy and chastity to be found in the world, if my own eyes and ears had not assured me thereof." amid the blood, and dust, and vapour of smoke, the virtue of this incomparable lady shines out like a pale evening star, visible above all the murky crimson of an autumn sunset. a new danger now arose to morgan from this adventure, for the seamen began to murmur, saying that the love of this beautiful spaniard kept them lingering at panama, and gave the spaniards time to collect their forces, and surprise them on their return. but morgan, having now stayed three weeks, and nothing more being left to plunder, gave orders to collect enough mules to carry the spoil to cruz, where it could be shipped for chagres, and so sent homeward. there can be no doubt that various causes had for some time been undermining the long subsisting attachment between morgan and his men. he had shown himself a slave to the passions which enchained their own minds, and their riches perhaps made them independent, and therefore mutinous. it was while the mules were collecting that he became aware of the loaded mine over which he stood. a plot was discovered, in which there were conspirators. they had resolved to seize the two vessels they had captured in the south sea, and with these to take possession of an island, which they could fortify for a stronghold. they would then fit out the first large spanish vessel they could obtain, and with a good pilot and a bold captain start privateering on their own account, and work home by the straits of magellan. as the spoil had not yet been divided, it is probable that all these men had broken the buccaneer oath, and had secreted part of the plunder. they had already hidden in private places, cannons, muskets, provisions, and ammunition. they were on the very point of raising the anchor, when one of them betrayed the scheme, and morgan at once ordered the vessel to be dismasted and the rigging burnt. the vessels he would also have destroyed, but these he spared at the intercession of the friend he had appointed their captain. from this time all confidence seems to have ceased between morgan and his men. many a king has been made a tyrant by the detection of a conspiracy. the men dreaded his vengeance, and he their treachery. from this hour he appears to have resolved to enrich himself and his immediate friends at any risk, leaving the french to shift for themselves. it is not improbable but that the old french and english feud may have had something to do with this quarrel. in war it ceased, but rankled out again in peace. the french seem to have been his greatest enemies, and the english friendly or indifferent. this distinction is visible even in the historians, for esquemeling speaks of him with mere distrust, and oexmelin with bitter hatred. in a few days the mules were ready, and the gold packed in convenient bales, for spanish or english gold it was all one to the mules. the costly church plate was beaten up into heavy shapeless lumps, and the heavier spoil was left behind or destroyed. better burn it, they thought, than leave it to the accursed spaniard, for we always hate those whom we have injured. the artillery of the town being carefully spiked, and all ready to depart, morgan informed his prisoners that he was about to march, and that he should take with him all those who were either unable or unwilling at once to bring in their ransom. the sight was heart-rending, and the panic general. at his words, says the historian, there was not one but trembled, not one but hurried to write to his father, his brother, or his friends, praying for instant deliverance or it would be too late. the slaves were also priced, and hostages were sent to collect the money. while this was taking place, a party of men were sent to chagres to bring up the boats and to look out for ambuscades, it being reported that don juan perez de guzman, the fugitive president of panama, had entrenched himself strongly at cruz, and intended to dispute the passage. some prisoners confessed that the president had indeed so intended, but could get no soldiers willing to fight, though he had sent for men as far as carthagena; for the scattered troopers fled at the sight of even their own friends in the distance. having waited four days impatiently for the ransom, morgan at last set out on his return on the th of february, . he took with him a large amount of baggage, beasts of burden laden with gold, silver, and jewels, and about prisoners, men, women, children, and slaves, having first spiked all the cannon and burnt the gun-carriages. he marched in good order for fear of attack, with a van and rear-guard, and the prisoners guarded between the two divisions. the departure was an affecting sight, as even the two historians, who were buccaneers themselves and eye-witnesses, admit. lamentations, cries, shrieks, and doleful sighs of women and children filled the air. the men wept silently, or muttered threats between their teeth, to avoid the blows of their unpitying drivers. thirst and hunger added to their sufferings. many of the women threw themselves on their knees at morgan's feet and begged that he would permit them to return to panama, there to live with their dear husbands and children in huts till the city could be rebuilt. but his fierce answer was, that he did not come there to hear lamentations, but to seek money, and that if that was not found, wherever it was hid, they should assuredly follow him to jamaica. all the selfishness and all the goodness of each nature now came to the surface. the selfish fell into torpid and isolated despair--the good forgot their own sufferings in trying to relieve those of others. some gazed at each other silently and hopelessly; others wailed and wept, a few cursed and raged. here stood one mourning for a brother--there another lamenting a wife. many believed that they should never see each other again; but would be sold as slaves in jamaica. the first evening the army encamped in the middle of a green savannah on the banks of a cool and pleasant river. this was a great relief to the wretched prisoners, who had been dragged all day through the heat of a south american noon by men themselves insensible to climate--urged forward by the barrels of muskets and blows from the butts of pikes. some of the women were here seen begging the buccaneers, with tears in their eyes, for a drop of water, that they might moisten a little flour for their children, who hung crying at their parched and dried-up breasts. the next day, when they resumed the march, the shrieks and lamentations were more terrible than before. "they would have caused compassion in the hardest heart," says esquemeling; "but captain morgan, as a man little given to mercy, was not moved in the least." the lagging spaniards were driven on faster with blows, till some of the women swooned with the intense heat, and were left as dead by the road-side. those who had husbands gave them the children to carry. the young and the beautiful fared best. the fair spaniard was led between two buccaneers, still apart from the rest. she wept as she walked along, crying that she had entrusted two priests in whom she relied to procure her ransom money, , piastres, from a certain hidden place, and that they had employed it in ransoming their friends. a slave had brought a letter to the lady and disclosed the treachery. her complaint being told to morgan he inquired into it, and found it to be true. the religious men confessed their crime, but declared they had only borrowed the money, intending to repay it in a week or so. he therefore at once released the lady, and detained the monks in her place, taking them on to chagres and despatching two men to obtain their ransom. on arriving at cruz the mules were unloaded, preparatory to embarkation. the buccaneers encamped round the king's warehouse, where it was stored. three days were given to collect the ransom. the spaniards, tardy or unwilling in the collection, brought in the money the day after. vast quantities of corn, rice, and maize were collected here for victualling the ships. morgan embarked slaves, and a few poor and obstinate spaniards who had not yet paid their ransom. the monks were redeemed, and escaped happy enough. a part of the buccaneers marched by land. many tears of joy and sorrow were shed when the prisoners and those who were liberated took farewell. on reaching barbacoa the division of the spoil began. mustering his men, morgan compelled them all to swear they had concealed nothing, even of the smallest value, and, what was more unusual, he ordered them all to be individually searched from top to toe, down even to the very soles of their shoes. this search was suspicious and insulting. the frenchmen, hot-blooded and mutinous, would have openly resisted had they not been in the minority. morgan allowed himself to be first searched to lessen the general discontent, and one man in every company was employed as searcher. no precautions were neglected that could be suggested by long experience of plundering. this unusual vigilance was a mere cloak for morgan's own dishonesty. every man was now compelled to discharge his musket before the searchers, that they might be sure no precious stones were hidden in the barrel. these searchers were generally the lieutenants of each crew, and had all taken an additional oath to perform their duty with fidelity. the murmurs against morgan had now reached such a height, and were so hourly increasing, that many frenchmen threatened to take his life before they reached jamaica. the more temperate controlled the younger and the more impetuous, and the band reached chagres without any revolt. they found the garrison short of provisions and glad to be relieved, but the wounded had nearly all died of their wounds. from chagres morgan sent a great boat to porto bello with all the st. catherine's prisoners, and demanded a ransom for sparing the castle of chagres. the people of porto bello replied they would not give one farthing, and he might burn it as he chose. the day after their arrival, morgan divided the booty. it amounted to only , pounds, estimating at ten piastres the pound. the jewels were sold unfairly, the admiral and his cabal buying the greater part very cheap, having already, it was believed, retained all the best of the spoil. every one had expected at least pieces each, and was disappointed and indignant at receiving only about . there was an end now to all co-operation between english and french adventurers, and the hopes of a buccaneer republic were at an end for ever. the murmurs again rose incontrollably high, and some proposed to seize morgan and force him to a fair division. the suspected admiral, trying in vain to pacify them, and finding he could obtain no price for chagres, divided the provisions of the fort among the vessels, removed the cannon and ammunition, then demolished the fortifications, and burnt the buildings. suddenly taking alarm, or more probably following a preconcerted plan, morgan sailed out of the harbour without any signal or notice, and hurried to jamaica, followed by four english vessels, whose captains had been his confidants. in the first paroxysm of their rage, the french adventurers would have pursued morgan, and attacked his vessel, but he escaped while they were still hesitating. we shall find him finally settled in jamaica, and married to the daughter of the chief person of the island, a sure proof, says the indignant and philosophical oexmelin, that any one is esteemed in this world provided he has money. the same vivacious writer gives a lively picture of the rage of the crews at the treacherous flight of morgan. they shouted, swore, stamped, clenched their fists, gnashed their teeth, and tore their hair, fired off their pistols in the air, and brandished their arms, with imprecations loud and deep. they longed for the plunder they had lost, and longed still more eagerly for revenge. they never now mentioned the welsh name but with an execration. strange anomaly of the human mind, that men who lived by robbery, should be astonished at a small theft committed by a comrade! in the first bitterness of their vexation, they drew their sabres, and hewed and thrust at their imaginary enemy. they bared their arms, and pointed out to each other the cicatrices of their half-healed wounds. confirmations of the admiral's treachery reached them from every side. they remembered that morgan had been latterly unusually reserved and unsociable, closeting himself with a few english confidants, to whom he had been seen whispering even during public conferences. he had, it was now recollected, grown silent during all discussions, and more particularly when the booty was mentioned. oexmelin (a surgeon) also mentions, that on one occasion, as he was visiting a wounded buccaneer, morgan came up to the hammock, and said in english, thinking he could not be overheard, "courage, get soon well, you have helped me to conquer, and you must help me to profit by the conquest." another day, as oexmelin was searching by the river for a medical herb, he turned round suddenly, and saw morgan secreting something in the corner of a canoe, and looking frequently over his shoulder to see if he was observed. when he observed oexmelin, he looked troubled, and, coming up, asked him what he was doing there, to which the surgeon made no answer, but, stooping down, picked the plant he was in search of, and began to tell him its properties. morgan turned off the subject, beginning to converse on indifferent topics, and, although the proudest of men, insisted on accompanying him home. oexmelin took care to find an opportunity afterwards to rummage the canoe, but found nothing; but this same canoe he always observed morgan took great care of, and never permitted to row out of his sight. but these stories none had dared to utter, for since the victory of panama, the admiral, always proud, sensual, and cruel, had grown every day more stern, and had rendered himself dreaded by his severities. the adventurers sought for a long time some means of avenging themselves on morgan for his successful treachery. they at last heard that he had resolved to take possession of st. catherine's island, being apprehensive of the governor of jamaica. in this spot he had determined to fortify himself, renew his buccaneering, and defy both open enemies and treacherous friends. the buccaneers agreed to waylay him on his passage, and carry him off, with his wife, children, and ill-gotten treasure. they then planned either to kill him, or compel him to render an account of the spoil of panama. but an unexpected accident saved morgan, and defeated their scheme of vengeance. at the very crisis, a new governor, lord g. vaughan, arrived at port royal, and brought a royal order for morgan to be sent to england to answer the complaints of the king of spain and his subjects. of his trial we hear nothing, but we soon after see the culprit knighted by charles ii., and appointed commissioner of admiralty for jamaica. the king, who frolicked with rochester, and smiled at the daring villany of blood, had no scruples in disgracing knighthood by such an addition. in the autumn of , the earl of carlisle, then governor of jamaica, finding his constitution undermined by the climate, returned to england, leaving morgan as his deputy. his opportunity of revenge had now come, and he remembered his old dangers of ruin and assassination. many of the buccaneers were hung by his authority, and some of them were delivered up to the governor of carthagena. a new governor arrived, and terminated his cruelties, and the justice inspired by a personal hatred. he still remained commissioner. in the next reign he was thrown into prison, where he remained three years. of his final fate we know nothing certain. chapter iii. the companions and successors of morgan. dispersion of the fleet--oexmelin's interview with the old buccaneer--adventure with indians--esquemeling's escapes-- . d'ogeron's escape from the spaniards-- . buccaneers' fight at tobago against the dutch-- . captain cook captures a spanish vessel-- . captains coxen and sharp begin their cruise. on the departure of morgan, the buccaneers, without food, and without leaders, underwent many sufferings, and remained uncertain what to do. oexmelin and a few of his french friends being informed by a female slave that an old buccaneer lived in the neighbourhood, determined to go to him and barter goods, as they were told that, although a spaniard, such was his custom. following the slave with great expectation, they reached the veteran's fort after about six hours' march. the buccaneers' "peel" towers were scattered all over the west indies, and waterton mentions seeing the ruins of one near demerara. this fort was defended by a fosse of immense depth, and by massy walls of an extraordinary thickness, flanked at each corner by a bastion well supplied with cannon. the frenchmen displayed their colours and beat their drums as a greeting, yet no one appeared, and no one answered; but, at the end of a quarter of an hour, they saw a light in one of the bastions, and perceived a man about to discharge a cannon. throwing themselves on their faces with professional dexterity, the shot flew over their heads, and they then rose and retreated out of range. believing at once that they had been betrayed, for many dangers had made them suspicious, they were about to cut their guide to pieces, when, running from them, she cried to the gunner, "why is your master false to his word? did he not promise to receive these gentlemen?" "it is true," cried the soldier, "but he has changed his mind; and if you and your people do not go off, i will blow out your brains." the buccaneers, enraged at the insolence of this threat, and the capricious change of intention, were about to attempt to storm the place, when four spaniards advanced and demanded a truce, in the name of their master. "we had," they explained, "been alarmed at your numbers, and feared foul play or treachery." the old adventurer was now willing to receive them, if they would send four of their band as ambassadors and hostages. oexmelin was one of the four chosen. they found the old man, grey and venerable, seated between two others. he was so old and feeble that he could not speak audibly, but he smiled and moved his lips, and stroked his long white beard, as they entered, and they could observe that he was pleased to see once more the well-remembered dress of the buccaneer seamen. his majestic bearing was impressive. though he could not rise to welcome them, he bent his head in answer to their greetings, and beckoned to one of his attendants to speak for him. by his orders they were at once taken to his store-rooms, where they bartered their goods, and obtained all that they required. they first eagerly selected some brandy, and oexmelin is never tired of repeating "ses gens l'aiment avec passion." on their way back to the ships with the guide, delighted at their success, the spaniards who carried the goods they had bought told them their master's history. he was, it appeared, properly speaking, neither an adventurer nor a castilian, but a portuguese, who had lived long both with adventurers and with spaniards. a spanish ship had picked him up in a drifted canoe when quite a boy, and he had been employed among the slaves in a cocoa plantation, where he soon became a successful steward, and much beloved by his master. his patron sent every year a vessel to his plantation to be loaded with cocoa. one day, as the steward was on board superintending the lading, a sudden squall came on, snapped the cable, and drove them out to sea. he being a good pilot, and accustomed to navigation, attempted to put back to land as soon as the storm abated, but the slaves, with one voice, declared that they would not return, and that he should not take them, for they knew that their master would suspect, and would cruelly punish them. at that time the slightest offence of a slave was punished with death. the steward remonstrated with them; but the slaves resolved to be free, although they knew not where to steer. at this crisis the bark was pursued by a buccaneer vessel, from which a storm for a short time released them, but they were eventually overtaken and captured. the buccaneer captain brought these prisoners to the fortress they had just visited. here he became again a faithful steward, and finally inherited the place at his master's death, and continued to trade with the buccaneers, as his predecessor had done. the fortress had been originally built to repel the spaniards, who had been several times beaten off with loss. it is very seldom that we can follow the buccaneer to the last scene of all: he flashes across our scene from darkness to darkness, and we hear of him no more. in the present instance, oexmelin enables us to fill up the vacuum and tell out the tale. in a subsequent voyage he returned to the old spot, the scene of an oft told story. devastation had fallen upon the devastator, the fortress was completely demolished and no dwelling remained. he ascertained from the spaniards that the old man had died and left his riches to his two sons, who, impatient of a slothful wealth, and with imaginations excited from their youth by the recital of buccaneer adventures, had at last turned flibustiers. before their father's death they had often expressed a wish to conquer the country of the ferocious bravo indians, but he had always discouraged them from the dangerous and unprofitable expedition, being afraid of attacks from the spaniards in their absence. they were never heard of again, but report was current that, having been shipwrecked, the two buccaneers had been taken by the indians, and killed and eaten. leaving the boca del toro, about thirty leagues distant from chagres, oexmelin and his companions arrived at the country of the very dreaded bravo indians. these people were known to be warlike cannibals, cruel and very treacherous. they were expert archers, and could discharge their arrows, like the parthians, even when in full retreat. they had axes and spears, and wore metal ornaments, the clash of which animated them to the charge. they carried tortoise-shells for shields, which covered their whole bodies, and were most to be dreaded when few in number and quite overpowered, for they would then throw themselves like wild-cats on the foe, and think only of destroying their enemy's life, regardless of their own. morgan, who seems to have made every preparation for an extensive buccaneer empire, had often sworn to totally destroy this nation which had slain so many shipwrecked men, and so frequently frustrated his plans. no buccaneer historian ever seems to have reflected that these savages, rude as they were, fought as patriots defending their country. we sing of tell and rave of wallace, but we have no interest in a hero without breeches! these indians had at first been friendly to the buccaneers, who had sold them iron in exchange for food, but on one fatal occasion, at a buccaneer debauch, a quarrel had arisen, and some indians had been killed and their wives carried off. from this time irreconcilable hatred existed between the two people, and to be wrecked on the bravo shore was equivalent to certain death. on reaching cape diego (so called, like many other points of land, from an old adventurer), oexmelin was compelled by hunger to feed on crocodile eggs, which were found buried in the sand. meeting here with some french adventurers, they all removed to an adjacent spot, where they caught turtle and salted it for the voyage. ascending a river to obtain provisions, they surprised and killed two indians, of whom one had a beard-case of tortoise-shell and another of beaten gold: the latter they took for a chief. putting off from here, and meeting with contrary winds that drove them from jamaica, they returned again to chagres, and were pursued by a ship of spanish build, which they feared had been sent from carthagena to rebuild the fort. they attempted in vain to escape, and were clearing the decks, preparing to fight to the last, when the enemy hoisted the red flag, and proved to be one of their companions' vessels driven back by the _bise_, or north-east wind. they lost two days' sail by this accident, more than they could regain in a fortnight, and returned to the boca del toro to get provisions and kill sea-cows, and then passed on to the boca del drago. the islands here they knew to be inhabited, for the fragrance of the fruits was wafted on the sea wind. one day a fishing party gave chase to two indians in a canoe, which they instantly drew ashore and carried with them into the woods. this boat, weighing above , lbs. and requiring men afterwards to launch it, was made of wild cedar, roughly hewn; being nimble the savages both escaped the buccaneers. a pilot who had been often in those parts, told them that a few years before, a buccaneer squadron arriving in that place, the men went in canoes to catch the humming birds that swarmed round the flowering trees of the coast. they were observed by some indians who had hid themselves in the trees, who, leaping down into the sea, carried off the boats and men before their companions could arrive to their aid. the admiral instantly landed men to rescue the prisoners, but so many indians collected that they found it necessary to retreat in haste to their ships. the next day the buccaneers arrived at rio de zuera, but the spaniards were all fled, leaving no provisions; they therefore filled their boats with plantains, coasting for a fortnight along the shore to find a convenient place to careen, for the vessel had now grown so leaky that slaves and men were obliged to work night and day at the pumps. arriving at a port, called the bay of blevelt, from a buccaneer who used to resort there, half the crew were employed to unload and careen the bark on the shore, and half to hunt in the woods--still much afraid of the indians, though they had as yet seen none. the huntsmen shot several porcupines of great size, and many monkeys and pheasants. the men took great pleasure in the midst of their danger in this pursuit. they laughed to see the females carrying their little ones on their backs, just like the negro women, and they admired the love and fidelity which some showed when their friends were wounded, and were delighted when they pelted their pursuers with fruit and dead boughs. the men were obliged to shoot fifteen or sixteen to secure three or four, as even when dead they remained clinging to the trees, and remained so for several days, hanging by their fore-paws or their tails. when one was wounded the rest came chattering round him, and would lay their paws on the wound to stop the flow of blood, and others would gather moss from the tress to bandage the place, or, gathering certain healing herbs, chew them and apply them as a poultice. if a mother was killed the young ones would not leave the body till they were torn away. but these amusements were soon to come to an end. the indians were upon their track. they had been now eight days hunting. it was the daybreak of the ninth day, and the fishermen and hunters were preparing their nets and guns to start for the sea and for the woods. the slaves were on the beach burning shells to make lime, which served instead of pitch for the vessels, and the women were drawing water at the wells which had been dug in the shore. a few of them were washing dishes, and others sewing, for they had risen earlier than usual. while the rest went to the wells, one of them lingered behind to pick some fruit that grew near the beach. seeing suddenly some indians running from the spot where she had left her companions, she ran to the tents, crying, "indians, indians, christians, the indians are come." the buccaneers, running to arms, discovered that three of their female slaves were lying dead in the wood, pierced with fourteen or fifteen flint-headed arrows. these darts were about eight feet long, and as thick as a man's thumb; at one end was a wooden hook, tied on with a string, at the other, a case containing a few small stones. searching the woods, no traces of indians, or any canoes, were to be found, and the buccaneers, fearing they should be surrounded and overpowered, re-embarked all their goods, and sailed in great haste and fear. they soon arrived at cape gracias à dios, and rejoiced to find themselves once more among friendly indians; and at a port where buccaneer vessels often resorted, the rudest sailors giving thanks to god for having delivered them out of so many dangers, and brought them to a place of refuge. the indians provided them with every necessary, and treated them with friendship. for an old knife or hatchet the men each bought an indian woman, who supplied them with food. these people often went to sea with the buccaneers, and, remaining several years, returned home with a good knowledge of french and english. they were used as fishermen, and for striking tortoises and manitees, one indian being able to victual a vessel of men. oexmelin's crew having on board two sailors who could speak the indian tongue, they were unusually well received. this nation was not more than in number, including a few negro slaves, who had swum ashore from a wreck, having murdered the spanish crew, and, in their ignorance of navigation, stranded the vessel. some of them cultivated the ground, and others wandered about hunting and fishing. they wore little clothes but a palm leaf hat, and a short apron, made of the bark of some tree. their arms were spears, pointed with crocodile's teeth. they believed in a supreme being, and, as esquemeling quaintly says, "believe not in nor serve the devil, as many other nations of america do, and hereby they are not so much tormented by him as other nations are." their food was chiefly fruit and fish. they prepared pleasant and intoxicating liquors from the plantain, and from the seed of the palm, and at their banquets every guest was expected to empty a four-quart calabash full of achioc, as the palm drink was called, merely a whet to the feast to follow. their achioc was as thick as gruel. when they were in love, they pierced themselves with arrows to prove their sincerity. when a youth wished to marry a maiden, the first question of the bride's father to the lover was, whether he could make arrows, or spin the thread with which they bound them. if he answered in the affirmative, the father called for a calabash of achioc, and he himself, the bride, and the bridegroom, all tasted of the beverage. when one of these hardy women was delivered, she rose, went to the nearest brook, washed and swathed the child, and went about her ordinary labour. when a husband died, the wife buried him, with all his spears, aprons, and ear jewels, and for fifteen moons after (a year) brought meat and drink daily to the grave. some writers contend that the devil visited the graves, and carried away these offerings to the manes; but esquemeling says, he knows to the contrary, having often taken away the food, which was always of the choicest and best sort. at the end of the year, an extraordinary custom prevailed. the widow had then to open the grave, and take out all the bones; she scraped, washed, and dried them in the sun; then placed them in a satchel, and for a whole year was obliged to carry them upon her back by day, and sleep upon them by night. at the end of the year, she hung up the bag at her door-post, or, if she was not mistress of her house, at the door of her nearest relation. a widow could not marry again till this painful ceremony was completed, and if an indian woman married a pirate, the same custom prevailed. the negroes maintained the habits of their own countries. after refreshing themselves in this friendly region, the buccaneers steered for the island de los pinos, and, arriving in fifteen days, refitted their vessel, now become dangerously leaky. half the crew were employed in careening, and half in fishing, and by the help of some of the cape gracias indians who accompanied them they killed and salted a sufficient number of wild cattle and turtle to revictual the ship. in six hours they could capture fish sufficient for a thousand persons. "this abundance of provision," says esquemeling, "made us forget the miseries we had lately endured, and we began to call one another again by the name of _brother_, which was customary among us, but had been disused in our miseries." they feasted here plentifully, and without fear of enemies, for the few spaniards who were on the island were friendly, and past dangers grew mere dreams in the distance. their only anxiety now was about the crocodiles, which swarmed in the island, and, when hungry, would devour men. on one occasion a buccaneer and his negro slave, while hunting in the wood, were attacked by one of these monsters. with incredible agility it fastened upon the englishman's leg, and brought him to the ground. the negro fled. the hunter, a robust and courageous man, drawing his knife, stabbed the crocodile to the heart, after a desperate fight, and then, tired with the combat and weak with loss of blood, fell senseless by its side. the negro, returning, from curiosity rather than compassion, to see how the duel had ended, lifted his master on his back and brought him to the sea-shore, a whole league distant, where he placed him in a canoe and rowed him aboard. after this, no buccaneer dared to go into the woods alone, but the next day, sallying out in troops, they killed all the monsters they could meet. these animals would come every night to the sides of the vessel and attempt to climb up, attracted probably by the smell of food. one of these, when seized with an iron hook, instead of diving or swimming, began to mount the ladder of the ship, till they killed him with blows of pikes and axes. after remaining some time here they sailed for jamaica, and arrived there in a few days after a prosperous voyage, being the first adventurers who had arrived there from panama since morgan. in , when the war between the french and hollanders (dutch) was still raging, the inhabitants of the french west indian colonies equipped a fleet to attack the dutch settlements at curaçoa, engaging all the buccaneers that could be induced to join the white flag, either from hopes of plunder or from hatred to the dutch. m. d'ogeron, the governor of tortuga, the planner of this invasion, headed the fleet in a large vessel named after himself, built by himself, and manned by picked adventurers. his unlucky star led them to misfortune. the new frigate ran upon the rocks near the guadanillas islands, and broke into a thousand pieces, during a storm near porto rico. being at the time very near to land, the governor and all his men swam safe to shore. the next day, discovered by the spaniards, they were attacked by a large force, who supposed they had come purposely to plunder the islands as the buccaneers had done before. the whole country, alarmed, rose in arms. the shipwrecked men were surrounded by an overpowering army, who, finding them almost without arms, refused to give them quarter, slew the greater part without mercy, and made the remainder prisoners. binding them with cords, two by two, they drove them through the woods into the open champaign. to all inquiries as to the fate of their commander, whom they could not distinguish from the rest, they replied that he had sunk with the wreck. d'ogeron, following up this deception with french sagacity, behaved himself as a mere half-witted suttler, diverting the spanish soldiers by his tricks and mimicry, and was the only buccaneer whom they allowed to go at liberty. the troopers at their camp fires gave him scraps from their meals and rewarded him with more food than his companions. among the prisoners there was also a french surgeon who had on former occasions done some service to the spaniards, and him they also allowed to go at large. d'ogeron agreed with him to attempt an escape at all risks, and after mature deliberation, they both agreed upon a plan, and succeeded in escaping safely into the woods, and in making their way to the sea-side. they determined to attempt to build a canoe, although unsupplied with any tool except a hatchet. by the evening they reached the sea-shore, to their great joy, and caught some shell fish on the beach from a shoal that ran in upon the sands in pursuit of their prey. fire to roast them they obtained by rubbing two sticks together in the indian fashion. the next morning early they began to cut down and prepare timber to build the canoe in which to escape to vera cruz. while they were toiling at their work they observed in the distance a large boat, which they supposed to contain an enemy, steering directly towards them. retreating to the woods, they discovered as soon as it touched land that it held only two poor fishermen. these unsuspecting men they determined if possible to overpower, and to capture the boat. as the mulatto came on shore alone, with a string of calabashes on his back to draw water, they killed him with a blow of their axe, and then slew the spaniard, who, alarmed at the sound of voices, was attempting in vain to push from the shore. having filled the dead man's calabashes they set sail, using the precaution of taking the dead bodies with them out into the deep sea, in order to conceal their death from the spaniards. they steered at once for porto rico, and passed on to hispaniola. a fair wind soon brought them to samana, where they found a party of their people. leaving the surgeon to collect men at samana, d'ogeron sailed to tortuga to collect vessels and crews to return and deliver his companions, and revenge his late disaster. he sailed eventually with men, and took great precautions to prevent the spaniards being aware of his coming, using only his lower sails in order that his masts should not rise above the horizon. in spite of this the spaniards, informed of his approach, had placed troops of horse upon the shore at various assailable points. d'ogeron landed his men under favour of a discharge from his great guns, which drove the horsemen into the woods, where, as he little suspected, the infantry lay in ambush. eagerly pursuing, his men, who thought the victory their own, found themselves hemmed in on every side. few escaped even to the ships. the spaniards, cruel from the reaction of fear, cut off the limbs of the dead and carried them home as trophies. they lighted bonfires on the shore as tokens of defiance to the retreating fleet. the first prisoners were now treated worse than ever. some of them were sent to havannah and employed on the fortifications all day, and chained up like wild beasts at night to prevent their desperate attempts at escape. many were sent to cadiz, and from thence escaped over the pyrenees into france, and, assembling together, like sworn members of a common brotherhood, returned by the first ship to tortuga. these very men some time after equipped a small fleet, under command of le sieur maubenon, which sacked trinidad, and put the island to a ransom of , pieces of eight, and from thence proceeded to the caraccas. the buccaneers fought against the dutch, in , and helped the french to recover cayenne, that had been taken by vice-admiral binkes. after this conquest, m. d'estrees attacked tobago, but was repulsed with the loss of killed, and wounded. his ship, the _glorieux_, of seventy guns, was blown up, and two others stranded; several of the dutch vessels were, however, burnt. d'estrees, returning to brest, was ordered back to tobago, with twenty sail of vessels of war, besides a great number of small craft. men were landed, and, approaching a fortified place called le cort, summoned heer binkes to surrender. the french began their attack by throwing fire-balls into the castle; the third grenade fell upon some loose powder in the path leading to the magazine, and blew it up. heer binkes and all his officers but one were killed. french instantly stormed the works, killing all but men, who were sent prisoners to france. d'estrees then destroyed every fort and house in the island, and sailed away. it was in that the same comte d'estrees collected buccaneers from hispaniola, and twenty vessels of war, besides fire-ships, to capture curaçoa, which could have been taken with buccaneers and three vessels. this fleet was, however, lost on the isles d'aves, as we shall describe in dampier's voyage. in the year , captain cook loaded his vessel with logwood, at campeachy, and, while anchoring at the island of rubia, on his way to tobago, was captured by three spanish men-of-war, who left his crew upon the shore, and carried off his ship and cargo. they had not lain there long before a spanish sloop of sixteen men arrived, laden with cocoa and plate, and gave them opportunity for escape and for revenge. borrowing muskets of the dutch governor, they employed six of their men in seizing the sloop's boat as it came to land, and then embarked and took the larger vessel, leaving their prisoners bound upon the beach, to watch the combat that would decide their fate. two men navigated, two more loaded the guns, and two others fired into the enemy as fast as they could pour their shot into the stern-ports. the spaniards resisted stoutly for some time, but, seeing their priest and captain shot dead, threw their arms overboard, and cried for quarter. the buccaneers gave the dutch governor a handsome reward, with a recompence for the arms, and divided among themselves about £ , worth of plate. on arriving at jamaica they burnt the prize, and embarked their goods for england. in the year of our lord , a buccaneer fleet of five sail, commanded by captains coxen, essex, alliston, rose, and sharp, set sail from port-royal, and steered for the island of pines, losing two vessels in their passage, at the zamballos islands. they met a french ship, whose commission was only for three months, and showed its captain, with great exultation, their forged commission for three years, purchased for only ten pieces of eight. chapter iv. the cruises of sawkins and sharp. land at darien--march overland--take santa maria--sail to panama--ringrose is wrecked--failure of expedition--driven off by spanish fleet--coxen accused of cowardice--sharp elected commander--plunder hillo and take la serena--take aries--saved with difficulty--conspiracy of slaves--land at antigua--return to england--sharp's trial--seizes a french ship in the downs, and returns to jamaica. the cruises of sawkins and sharp are recorded in the travels of ringrose, who was present at all their exploits. at this time the buccaneers widened their field of operations, and passed from the south into the north pacific. the whole coast of south america, on either side, met the fate of the west indian islands. the gold mines of peru were the next object of their speculation. a fleet which took porto bello a second time rendezvoused at boca del toro. a new expedition was then formed to follow captain bournano, a french commander, who had lately attacked chepo, to tocamora, a great and very rich place, whither the darien indians had offered to conduct him, in spite of a late treaty with the spaniards. the vessels first dispersed into coves and creeks to careen and salt turtle, and then reunited at the water key. the fleet consisted of nine vessels, with a total of guns and men, in the following order:--captain coxen, a ship of tons, with guns, and men; captain harris, tons, guns, and men; captain bournano, tons, guns, and men; captain sawkins, tons, gun, and men; captain sharp, tons, guns, and men; captain cook, tons, and men; captain alleston, tons, and men; captain row, tons, and men; captain macket, tons, and men. the expedition sailed march , . the first place to touch at was the zemblas islands, where they traded with the friendly indians, who brought fruits and venison in exchange for beads, needles, knives, and hatchets. these indians were quite naked, but richly decorated with gold and silver plates of a crescent form, and gold rings worn in the nose, which they had to lift up when they drank. they were generally painted with streaks of black and red, but were a handsome race, and frequently as fair as europeans. the sailors believed that they could see better by night than by day. the indians dissuaded the captains from the march upon tocamora, and agreed to guide them to the vicinity of panama. the way to tocamora, they declared, was mountainous and uninhabited, and ran through wild places, where no provisions could be obtained. in this change of plan, row and bournano, whose crews were all french, separated, being unwilling to risk a long march by land, and remained at the zemblas, while andræas, an indian chief, guided the remaining vessels to the golden island, a little to the westward of the mouth of the great river of darien. there the seven remaining vessels rendezvoused april , . they here agreed to follow the indians' advice, and attack the town of santa maria, situated on the river of the same name, which runs into the south sea by the gulf of st. miguel. it was garrisoned by soldiers, and from hence the gold gathered in the neighbouring mountains was carried to panama, on which they could march if they could not find enough at santa maria. on the th of april they landed men, leaving captains alleston and macket to guard the ships in their absence. each man carried with him three or four "dough-boys" (cakes), trusting to the rivers for drink. captain sharp, who went at their head, was still faint from a late sickness. his company carried a red flag and a bunch of white and green ribbons. the second division, led by captain richard sawkins, had a red flag, striped with yellow. captain peter harris, with the third and fourth divisions, had two green flags; captain john coxen, two red flags; while captain edmund cook bore red colours, striped with yellow, with a hand and sword for the device. all the men carried fusees, pistols, and hangers. the indian guides led them through a wood and over a bay two leagues up a woody valley, along a good path, with here and there old plantations. at a river, then nearly dry, they built huts to rest in. another indian chief, a man "of great parts," and called captain antonio, now promised to be their leader, as soon as his child, who was then sick, had died, which he expected would be next day. this indian warned them against lying in the grass, which was full of large snakes. the men, breaking some of the stones washed down from the mountains, found them glitter like gold; but, in spite of this, several grew tired and returned to the ships, leaving only sailors and six indian guides. the next day they ascended a very steep hill, and found at the foot of it a river, on which andræas told them santa maria was built. about noon they ascended another and higher mountain, by so perpendicular and narrow a path that only one man could pass at a time. having marched eighteen miles, they halted that night on the banks of the same river, much rain falling during both nights. the next day they crossed the river, after wading sometimes up to the knee, sometimes to the middle, in a steep current. at noon they reached the indian village, near which the king of darien resided. the houses were neatly built of cabbage-tree, with the roofs of wild canes, thatched with palmito royal, and were surrounded by plantain walks; they had no upper storeys. the king, queen, and family, came to visit them in royal robes. like most savages, he was all ornament and nakedness, gold and dirt. his crown was made with woven white reeds, lined with red silk. in the middle was a thin plate of gold, some beads, and several ostrich feathers; in each ear a gold ring; and in his nose a half-moon of the same metal. his robe was of thin white cotton, and in his hand he held a long bright lance, sharp as a knife. the queen wore several red blankets, and her two marriageable daughters and young child were loaded with coloured beads, and covered with strips of rag. the women seemed "free, easy, and brisk," but modest and afraid of their husbands. the king gave the sailors each three plantains and some sugar-canes to suck, but, after that regal munificence, did not disdain to sell his stores like his subjects, who proved very cunning dealers in their purchases of knives, pins, and needles. resting here a day, captain sawkins was appointed to lead the forlorn hope of eighty men. their march still lay along the river, and here and there they found a house. the indians, standing at the doors, would present each with a ripe plantain or cassave root, or count them by dropping a grain of millet for each one that passed. they rested at night at some native houses. the next day sharp, coxen, and cook, and ninety men, embarked in fourteen canoes to try how far the stream was navigable, captain andræas being with them, and two indians in each canoe serving as guides. but the water proved more tedious than the land; for at the distance of every stone's-cast, they were constrained to get out of the boats and haul them over sands, rocks, or fallen trees, and sometimes over spits of land. that night they built huts on the bank, being worn out with fatigue. the next day proved a repetition of the past; at night a tiger came near them, but they dared not fire for fear of alarming the spaniards. the following day was worse than before, and their men grew mutinous and suspicious of the indians, who, they thought, had divided the troop in order to betray them. the fourth day, resting on "a beachy point of land," where another arm joined the river, they were joined by their companions, whom they had sent their indians to seek, and who had grown alarmed at their continued absence. that night they prepared their arms for action. on the morrow they re-embarked, in all sixty-eight canoes and englishmen, with fifty indian guides. they made themselves paddles, threw away the indian poles, and rowed with all speed, meeting several boats laden with plantains. about midnight they arrived within half-a-mile of santa maria, and landed. the mud was so deep that they had to lay down their paddles and lift themselves up by the boughs of the trees; then cutting a way through the woods, they took up their lodging there for the night, hoping to surprise the spaniards. at daybreak, to their disappointment, they were awoke by the discharge of a musket and the beating of a drum. the spaniards had already prepared some lead for their reception, and had sent away their gold to panama. directly they emerged into the plain, the enemy ran into a large palisaded fort, twelve feet high, and began to fire quick and close. the vanguard, running up, pulled down part of the stockade and broke in and took them prisoners, the whole men. a few english were wounded, not one being killed of the fifty men who led the attack. other spaniards were in the mines conveying away the gold, the mines there being the richest of the western world. twenty-six spaniards were killed in the fort and sixteen wounded, but the governor, priest, and chief men all escaped by flight. the town proved to be merely a few cane houses, built to check the indians, who frequently rebelled. some days before, three cwt. of gold had been sent in a bark to panama, the same quantity being despatched twice or thrice a-year. during the fight the indians, frightened at the whistling of the bullets, had hid themselves in a hollow; when all was over they entered the place, with great courage stabbing the prisoners with their lances, and putting about twenty to death in the woods, till the buccaneers interfered. in the town the indians found the eldest daughter of the darien king, whom one of the garrison had carried off, and who was then with child by him. rather than be left to the mercy of the indians, this man offered to lead them to panama, where they hoped to capture all the riches of potosi and peru. sawkins in a canoe attempted in vain to overtake the governor and his officers, and rather than return empty-handed, resolved to go to panama, to satisfy what ringrose calls "their hungry appetite of gold and riches." captain coxen was chosen commander, and the booty and prisoners sent back to the ships under a guard of twelve men. the indians, being rewarded with presents of needles and beads, also returned, all but the king. captain andræas, captain antonio, and the king's son, king golden cap (bonete d'oro), as the spaniards called him, resolved to go on, desiring to see panama sacked, and offering to aid them with a large body of men. the spanish guide declared he would not only lead them into the town, but even to the very door of the governor of panama's bed-chamber, and that they should take him by the hand, and seize him and the whole city, before they should be discovered by the spaniards. after remaining two days at santa maria, they departed april th, , for panama. they embarked in thirty-five canoes and a piragua which they had found lying at anchor, rowing down the river to the gulf of belona, where they would enter the south sea and work round to panama. at the request of the indian king the fort, church, and town were all burnt. the spanish prisoners, afraid of being put to death by the savages if left behind, collected some bark logs and leaky canoes, although the buccaneers could scarcely find boats for themselves, and went with them. ringrose and four other men were put in the heaviest and slowest canoe, and, getting entangled between a shoal two miles long, and obliged to wait for high water, the boat being too heavy to row against tide, were soon left behind. at night, it being again low water, they stuck up an oar in the river, and, in spite of a weltering rain, slept all night by turns in the canoe. the next morning, rowing two leagues, they overtook their companions filling water at an indian hut, there being no more for six days' journey. hurrying to a pond a quarter of a mile distant with their calabashes, they returned to their boats and found the rest again gone and out of sight. "such," moralises ringrose, "is the procedure of these wild men, that they care not in the least whom they lose of their company or leave behind. we were now more troubled in our minds than before, fearing lest we should fall into the same misfortune we had so lately overcome." they rowed after them as fast as possible, but in vain, and lost their way among the innumerable islands of the river's mouth; but at last, with much trouble and toil, hit the bocca chica, the desired passage. but though they saw the door, they could not pass through, the "young flood" running violently against them--although it was only a stone's-cast off, and not a league broad. here, then, in despair they put ashore, fastening the rope to a tree, almost covered by a tide that flowed four fathoms deep. as soon as the tide turned, they rowed to an island about a league-and-a-half from the river's mouth, in the gulf of st. miguel, in much danger from the waves, their boat being twenty feet long, but not quite a foot-and-a-half broad. here they rested for the night, wet through with the continual and impetuous rain, without water to drink, and unable to light a fire, "for the loss of our company, and the dangers we were in," says ringrose, "made it the sorrowfullest night that, until then, i ever experimented." none slept that tedious night, for a vast sea surrounded them on one side, and the mighty power of the spaniards on the other. they were all without shoes, and their clothes were drenched through. they could see nothing but sea, mountain, and rock. at break of day they rowed past several islands to the point st. laurence, one man incessantly employed in baling. as they passed one of these islands, a huge sea overturned their boat, but they gained the beach, swimming for life, and the canoe came tumbling beside them. the arms fast lashed at the bottom of the boat, the locks cased and waxed down like the cartouche boxes, and powder horns, escaped uninjured, but the bread and fresh water were either spoiled or lost. while carefully wiping and cleaning their arms, for a buccaneer's musket was as his wife and child to him, they saw another canoe tossed to shore, a little to leeward. this proved to be six of the spanish prisoners, who had escaped in an old piragua which was split to pieces, the english boat, formed of wood, six inches thick, having escaped unhurt. a common misfortune makes all men friends, and the english and spaniards sat down together and broiled their meat amicably at the same fire. they then held a council, discussing for two or three hours what course to take, and all the men but ringrose were for returning and living with the indians, if they could not reach the ships lying in the northern sea. with much ado, ringrose prevailed on them to persist for one day longer, and, just as they were concluding their debate, the man on the look-out cried that he saw indians. pursued into the woods by two buccaneers, they found that he was one of the expedition, and had arrived with seven others in a great canoe. they were glad to see them, and declared, to their joy, that, all in one canoe, they could overtake the boats in the course of a day. on seeing the spaniards (wankers they called them), they would have put them to death but for ringrose's interposition, for his men stood by indifferent. they then insisted on keeping one as a slave. ringrose, still fearing for their lives, gave the five spaniards his own canoe, and bade them shift for their lives. now in a large canoe, with a good sail, and a fresh and strong gale, they made brave way, with infinite joy and comfort of heart, the smooth and easy passage, and the pleasant, fresh ripple of the sea, filling them with hope and gladness; but that very evening it grew very dark, and rained heavily. suddenly two fires were seen to blaze up from the opposite shore of the continent, and the indians, thinking they must indicate the encampment of their people, shouted, "captain antonio, captain andræas," and made for the shore as fast as they could pull. the canoe, however, had hardly got amongst the breakers, before sixty spaniards, armed with clubs, leaped from the woods; and, drawing the boat on land, made all the crew their prisoners. ringrose seized his gun, and prepared for resistance, but was pulled down by four or five of the enemy. the indians, leaping overboard, escaped nimbly into the woods. ringrose spoke to his captors in french and english, without obtaining any answer. on addressing the strangers in latin, he discovered that they were the spanish prisoners from santa maria, who had been liberated, for fear they might escape when nearer panama, and inform the city of the buccaneers' approach. the englishmen were presently taken with shouts of joy into a hut made of boughs, and examined by the spanish captain, who meditated retaliating upon them the injuries inflicted on the town. at this critical juncture, the spaniards whom ringrose had liberated came in, and explained how they had been delivered from the indians. on hearing this, the spanish captain rose, and, embracing ringrose, said, "the english were good people, and very friendly enemies, but the indians very rogues, and a treacherous nation." he then made him sit down and eat with him, and consented, for the kindness he had shown his countrymen, to give him and all his men, and even the indians, if they could find them, their lives and liberties, which otherwise would have been forfeited. finally, giving them a canoe, the noble-hearted enemy bade them go in god's name, praying that they might be as fortunate as they had been generous. all that night they skirted a dangerous and iron coast, without daring to land. the next morning, after sailing, paddling, and rowing for a few hours, they saw a canoe suddenly making towards them. it was one of the english boats, which had mistaken them for a spanish piragua. they at once conducted them to a deep bay, sheltered by rocks, where the rest lay at anchor. they were all delighted to see ringrose and his men, having given them up as lost. they then made their way with all speed to a hilly island, about seven leagues distant, and surprised an old man, who was stationed there to watch. the road up to the hut was very steep, and the buccaneers surrounded the old man, who did not see them till they had already entered his plantain walk. they were much encouraged by his declaration, that no tidings of their arrival had yet reached panama. about dusk, two of their boats surprised a small bark that came and anchored outside the island. the crew had been absent eight days from the city, landing soldiers on the adjacent shore, to curb and drive back the indians. the crews of the smaller canoes now crowded into this vessel to the number of men, together with captain cook and captain sharp, the latter of whom ringrose calls "a sea artist, and valiant commander." next morning, rowing all day over shallow water, they chased a bark, which captain harris took after a sharp dispute, putting on board a prize crew of thirty men. during this pursuit the vessels scattered, and did not reunite till next day at the island of chepillo, a preconcerted rendezvous. they again chased a bark, but with less success, and captain coxen's canoe missed the prize, owing to a breeze springing up, having one man killed and another wounded, and, what was worst of all, the vessel not only escaped, but spread the alarm at panama. at chepillo they took fourteen negro and mulatto prisoners, and secured two fat hogs, plenty of plantains, and some good water. believing it useless now to attack panama, the buccaneers resolved to hurry on to the town to at least surprise some of the shipping. their boats had the addition of another piragua, which they found lying at chepillo. before starting, the captains cruelly decided, for reasons which ringrose could not fathom, to allow the indians to murder all the spanish prisoners before their eyes, the savages having long thirsted for their blood. but by a singular coincidence the prisoners, though without arms, forced their way by a sudden rush through all the indian spears and arrows, and escaped unhurt into the woods, to the chagrin of both white and black savages. staying only a few hours at chepillo, the boats started at four o'clock in the evening, intending to reach panama, which was only seven leagues distant, before the next morning. the next day (st. george's day), before sunrise they arrived at panama, "a city," says ringrose, "which has a very pleasant prospect seaward." they could see all the ships of the city lying at anchor at the island of perico, two leagues distant, where storehouses had been built. there now rode at anchor five great ships and three smaller armadillas, (little men-of-war). this fleet, which had been hastily manned to defend the city, as soon as they saw the buccaneers, weighed anchor, got under sail, and bore down at once upon them, directly before the wind, and with such velocity as to threaten to run them down. the spanish admiral's vessel was manned by ninety biscayans, agile seamen and stout soldiers. they were all volunteers, and had come out to show their valour under the command of don jacinto de barahona, high-admiral of those seas. in the second were seventy-seven negroes, led by a brave old andalusian, don francisco de peralta. in the third, making men in all, were sixty-five mulattoes, under don diego de carabaxal. the spaniards had strict orders given them to grant no quarter. to add to the disparity of numbers, only a few of the buccaneers' boats were able to arrive in time. the first five canoes that came up, leaving the heavy piraguas still lagging behind, contained only thirty-seven men, and these were tired with rowing in the wind's eye, and trying to get close to the windward of the enemy. the lesser piragua coming up with thirty-two more men, made a total force of sixty buccaneers, including the king of darien, engaged in this daring resistance to an overwhelming force. carabaxal's vessel, passing between sawkins's and ringrose's canoes, fired at both, wounding four men in the former and one in the latter, but being slow in tacking, the spaniard paid dear for his passage, the first return volley killing several men upon his decks. almost before they had time to reload, the admiral passed, but the buccaneers' second volley quite disabled their giant antagonist, killing the man at the helm; and the ship ran into the wind and her sails lay aback. she fell now like a lamed elephant at the mercy of the hunters; the canoes, pulling under her stern, fired continually upon the deck, killing all who dared to touch the helm, and cutting asunder the mainsheet and mainbrace. sawkins, whose canoe was disabled, went next into the piragua to meet peralta, leaving the four canoes to harass the admiral. between sawkins and peralta, lying alongside of each other, the fight was desperate, each crew trying to board, and firing as quick as they could load. in the mean time the first vessel tacked about and came to relieve the admiral, but the canoes, seeing the danger of being beaten from the admiral's stern and allowing him to rally, sent two of their number (springer and ringrose) to meet peralta. the admiral stood upon his quarter-deck, waving his handkerchief as a signal for his captains to come at once to his help. the canoes pursued peralta, and would have boarded him had he not given them the helm and made away. giving a loud shout, the remaining boats wedged up the admiral's rudder and poured in a blinding volley, that killed the admiral and chief pilot. two-thirds of the spaniards being now killed, many wounded, and all disheartened at the bloody massacre of the buccaneers' shot, cried for quarter, which they had been already several times offered, and at once surrendered. captain coxen then boarded the prize, taking with him captain harris, who had been shot through both legs as he was heading a boarding party. they put all their other wounded men on board, and, manning two canoes, hurried off to aid sawkins, who had already been three times beaten off by peralta. coming close under his side and giving him a full volley, they were expecting a return, when suddenly a volcano of fire spouted up from the deck, and all the spaniards abaft the mast were blown into the air or sea. while the brave captain, leaping overboard, was helping the drowning men in spite of the rain of shot and the pain of his own burns, another jar of powder blew up in the forecastle. under cover of the smoke and confusion, sawkins boarded and took the ship, or at least all that was left of it. ringrose says it was a miserable sight, not a man but was either killed or desperately wounded, blind, or horribly burnt with the powder. in some cases the white wounds where the flesh had peeled to the bone, showed through the blackening of the powder. the admiral had but twenty-five men left out of eighty-six, and of these twenty-five only eight were now able to bear arms. the blood ran down the deck in streams, and every rope and plank was smeared with gore. peralta, as prudent as he was brave, attempted by every possible argument, forgetful of his own wounds and the death of his men, to induce the buccaneers not to attack the remaining vessels in the harbour. in the biggest alone he said there were men, and the rest were well defended. but a dying sailor, lifting up his head from the deck, contradicted him, and said that they had not a man on board, all their crews being placed in the armadillas. trusting to dying treason rather than living fidelity, the buccaneers instantly proceeded to the island, and found the ships deserted. the largest, _la santissima trinidada_, had been set on fire, the crew, loosing her foresail, having pierced her bottom. the captains soon quenched the fire, and stopping the leak turned their prize into a floating hospital-ship. they found they had eighteen men killed and twenty-two wounded (only two of whom died) in this desperate sea battle, which began an hour after sunrise and ended at noon. the third vessel, it appeared, while running away had met with two others, but even with this reinforcement refused to fight. their brave prisoner, peralta, now that all was over, broke out into repeated praises of their courage, which was so congenial to his own. he said: "you englishmen are the valiantest men in the whole world, always desiring to fight open, while all other nations invent all the ways imaginable to barricade themselves, and fight as close as possible." "notwithstanding all this," adds ringrose, "we killed more of our enemies than they of us." two days after the battle the buccaneers buried captain harris, a brave englishman of the county of kent, whose death was much lamented by the fleet. the new city of panama, built four miles more easterly than that which morgan burnt, had been three times destroyed by fire since that event. a few people still lived round the cathedral in the old town. the new city was bigger than the old one, and built chiefly of brick and stone, and was defended by a garrison of soldiers and , militiamen. they afterwards learnt that the troops were then absent, and that if they had landed instead of attacking the fleet, they might have taken the place, all the best shots being on board the admiral's vessel. in the five vessels taken at perico there was much spoil. the _trinidada_ ( tons) was laden with wine, sugar, sweetmeats, skins, and soap. the second, of tons, partly laden with bars of iron, one of the richest commodities brought into the south sea, was burnt by the buccaneers, because the spaniards would not redeem it. the third, of tons, laden with sugar, was given to captain cook; the fourth, an old vessel ( tons), laden with meal, was burnt as useless, with all her cargo. the fifth, of tons, with a piragua, fell to the lot of captain coxen. the two armadillas, the rigging and sails being saved, and a bark laden with poultry, were also burnt. captain coxen, indignant at charges made against him of cowardice in the late action, determined to rejoin the ships in the northern seas, together with seventy men who had assisted in his election. the indian king, don andræas, and don antonio, returned with him. the king left his son and nephew in the care of captain sawkins, who was now commander-in-chief, and desired him not to spare the spaniards. a few days after captain sharp returned from the king's islands, having taken a spanish vessel and burnt his own. captain harris's crew had also taken a vessel, and, dismasting their own, turned their prisoners adrift in the hulk, and soon after taking a poultry vessel, the meanest of the spaniards were treated in the same way. having remained now ten days at panama, the fleet steered to the island of tavoga, where they found a village of houses quite deserted, and many of these were burnt by the carelessness of a drunken sailor. the panama merchants came here to sell the buccaneers commodities and to purchase the plunder from their own vessels, giving pieces of eight for every negro. staying eight days, they captured a vessel from truxillo laden with money to pay the garrison of panama, while in the hold were , jars of wine and fifty jars of gunpowder. a flour vessel from the same place informed them that a ship was coming in a few days laden with , more pieces of eight. to a message from the president, who sent by some merchants to ask why they came into those parts, captain sawkins replied, that he came to assist the king of darien, the true lord of the country, and he required a ransom of pieces of eight for each sailor, and , for the commander. he must also promise not to molest the indians, who were the natural owners of the soil. hearing from the messengers that a certain priest, now bishop of panama, formerly of santa martha, lay in the city, sawkins, remembering that he had been his prisoner when he took that city five years before, sent him two loaves of sugar as a present. the next day the bishop replied by forwarding him a gold ring. the president, at the same time, sent another letter, desiring to see his commission, that he might know to what power to complain. sawkins replied, that as yet all his men were not come together, but when they had met, they would come up to panama, and bring their commissions on the muzzles of their guns, at which time he should read them as plain as the flame of gunpowder would let him. the men growing now mutinous for fresh meat, sawkins was compelled to give up his hopes of capturing the rich vessel from peru, and to sail to the island of otoque, to buy fowls and hogs, losing two barks, one with seven, and the other with fifteen men. while lying off the pearl fishery of cayboa, sawkins and sharp made an unfortunate attack with sixty men on the town of puebla nueva. they were piloted up the river in canoes by a negro prisoner. a mile below the town, great trees had been laid to block up the stream, and before the town three strong breastworks were thrown up. sawkins, running furiously up the sloping ramparts, was shot dead, and his men driven back to their boats, two men being killed, and three wounded, in the retreat, which was made in pretty good order. they soon after, however, captured a vessel laden with indigo, and burnt two others. this captain sawkins, ringrose says, was as valiant and courageous as any, and, next to captain sharp, the best beloved. his death was much lamented, and occasioned another overland expedition. sharp, surrendering his last prize to captain cook, took his vessel and gave it to the sixty-three men who wished to return home. they led with them all the indians to serve as guides overland. before they started, sharp, in full council on board the _trinidada_, offered to insure to all who would carry out sawkins's scheme, and go home by the straits of magellan, a £ profit, but none would stay. ringrose himself acknowledges he should have left with them, but was afraid of the indians, and the long and dangerous journey in the rainy season. at cayboa, the men took in water and cut wood, killing alligators, and salting deer and turtle. here two "remarkable events" happened to ringrose. in the first place, he ate an oyster so large that he found it necessary to cut it into four large mouthfuls: secondly, as he was washing himself in a pond, some drops fell on him from a mançanilla tree, and these drops broke out into a red eruption that lasted a week. here sharp burnt one of his prizes for the sake of the iron work, and received captain cook, whose men had revolted, on board his own ship, making john cox, a new englander, commander in his stead. sharp now determined to careen at the island of gorgona, and then to proceed to guayaquil, where captain juan, the captain of the tavoga money ship, assured them they might throw away their silver and lade with gold. they selected gorgona, because, on account of the perpetual rain, the spaniards seldom touched there. the sailors, who had lost their money at gambling, were impatient of these delays, and declared that the spaniards would now gain time, and the whole coast be alarmed, and on the defensive. but the richer men, wanting rest, decided for gorgona. in this island, they fished their mainmast, shot at whales, killed monkeys, snakes, and turtle for food, being short of provision, caught a large sloth, and killed a serpent, fourteen inches thick, and twelve feet long. while moored here, joseph gabriel, the chilian, who stole the indian king's daughter, died of a malignant calenture. he had been very faithful, and discovered many plots and conspiracies among the prisoners of intended escapes and murders. sharp now abandoned the design on guayaquil, and resolved to attack arica, the dépôt of all the potosi plate. an old man who had served much with the spaniards, promised them £ a-man. after a fortnight's sail they arrived at the island of plate, so called from drake dividing his plunder there among his men. the spaniards had a tradition, that he took twelve score tons of plate in the galleon armada, and that each of his forty-five men had sixteen bowls full of coined money--his ships being so full that they were obliged to throw much of it overboard. in the adjoining bay of manta, in cromwell's time, a lima vessel, laden with thirty millions of dollars, on its way as a present to charles i., was lost by keeping too near the shore. while catching goats on this island, on which the cross of the first spanish discoverer still stood, they were joined by captain cox, whom they had lost a fortnight before, as they feared, irrecoverably. they killed and salted on this island goats in a day, and one man alone, in a few hours, in one small bay turned seventeen turtle. peralta congratulated them on getting as far to windward in two weeks as the spanish captains did in three months, from their keeping boldly so far from the shore. while passing guayaquil, they espied a spanish vessel and gave chase. being hailed in spanish by an indian prisoner, to lower their topsails, the enemy replied they would pull down the englishman's first, and answered with their arquebuses to the buccaneers' muskets, till, one bullet killing the man at the helm and another cutting their maintop halliards, they cried out for quarter. there were thirty-five men on board, including twenty-four spaniards and several persons of quality. the captain's brother, since the death of don jacinto de barahona at panama, was admiral of the armada. the buccaneers' rigging was much cut during the fight, and two men were wounded, besides a sailor who was shot by an accident. the captain, it appears, had in a bravado sworn to attack their fleet if he could meet it. the spaniard, a very "civil and meek gentleman," informed them that the governor of lima, hearing of their visit to panama, had collected five ships and sailors; while two other vessels and soldiers, furnished by the viceroy, were preparing to start. a patache with twenty-four guns was also lying at callao, ready to remove the king's plate from arica. at guayaquil they had built two forts, and mustered men of all colours. the same day the english unrigged their new prize and sank her. reckoning up the pillage, they found they had now , pieces of eight, which were at once divided. the same day they punished a spanish friar, who was chaplain in the last prize, and, shooting him on the deck, flung him overboard before he was dead. "such cruelties," says ringrose, "though i abhorred very much in my heart, yet here i was forced to hold my tongue and not contradict them, as having no authority to oversway them." the prisoners now confessed they had killed a boat full of the buccaneers' men, lost near cayboa, and had discovered from the only survivor the plan on guayaquil. captain cox's vessel being so slow as to require towing, they sank it, so there were now men and boys and fifty-five prisoners in one and the same bottom. while to the leeward of tumbes, peralta told them a legend of a priest having once landed there in the face of , indians, who stared at his uplifted cross. as he stepped out of his boat on the shore, before the water could efface his footprints, two lions and two tigers came out of the woods to meet him, but when he gently laid the cross on their backs, they fell down and worshipped it, upon which all the indians came forward and were baptised. the night they passed paita they espied a sail and gave chase, following it by the lights which it showed through negligence. scantiness of provisions made them more eager in the pursuit, and coming up the spaniard instantly lowered all her sails and surrendered. the buccaneers casting dice as to who should first board, the lot fell to the larboard watch. the vessel contained fifty packs of cocoa, and a great deal of raw silk and india cloth, besides many bales of thread stockings. the prize being plundered and dismasted, the prisoners were turned adrift in it, supplied with only a foresail, some water, and a little flour. the chief prisoners, as don thomas de argandona, commander of the guayaquil vessel, and his friends don christoval and don baltazar, gentlemen of quality, captain peralta, moreno, a pilot, and twelve slaves, to do the drudgery, were still kept. the next day the sailor wounded in taking the guayaquil vessel, died, and was buried with ceremony, three french volleys being fired as the body was let down into the deep. their next expedition was to attack arica with men, first sending five boats to capture some fishermen at the river of juan diaz, whom they might employ as spies. to their great chagrin they found the landing impracticable, and the whole coast in arms. troops of horse covered the low hills round the bay, and close beneath six ships rode at anchor. abandoning this project, these indefatigable marauders (more pirates than real buccaneers) despatched four canoes and fifty men, to plunder the town of hillo. on the shore the english were met by some horsemen, who fled after a few volleys. marching to the town, they forced their way through a small breastwork of clay and sandbags, and took the town. keeping good watch for fear of surprise, a dying indian, wounded in the skirmish, told them that the townspeople had heard from lima nine days before, and expected their coming. in the town they found pitch, wine, oil, and flour, and sixty of the ablest men were sent up the adjoining valley to reconnoitre. they found it beautifully planted with fig, lemon, lime, olive, and orange trees, and four miles up came to a sugar-mill, the greater part of the sugar having been removed. the spaniards, watching them from the hills, rolled stones upon them, but hid themselves when a musket-shot was fired in retaliation. captain cox and a dutch interpreter being despatched with a flag of truce to the spaniards, they agreed to give eighty beeves as a ransom for the mill, and a message was despatched to captain sharp not to injure the drivers of the oxen when they came. hearing that sixteen beeves had already arrived at the port, the men, contrary to ringrose's opinion, returned to the ships laden with sugar, and found the whole story of the oxen's arrival a mere _ruse de guerre_. the spaniards being appealed to promised the cattle should arrive that night, but at last declared the wind was so high they could not drive the herds. enraged at this delay, the buccaneers, who had now taken in water, marched men up the valley, and burned the house, the mill, and the canes, carried off the sugar, broke the oil jars, and cracked the copper wheels. near the shore they were charged by a body of horsemen, who took them by surprise, but not before they had thrown down the sugar and taken up their arms. ringrose shall tell the rest: "we being in good rank and order," he says, "fairly proffered them battle upon the bay; but as we advanced to meet them, they retired and rid towards the mountains, to surround us, and take the rocks from us, if possibly they could. hereupon, perceiving their intentions, we returned back and possessed ourselves of the said rocks, and also of the lower town, as the spaniards themselves did of the upper town (at the distance of half-a-mile from the lower), the hills and the woods adjoining thereunto. the horsemen being now in possession of those quarters, we could perceive as far as we could see, more and more men resort unto them, so that their forces increased hourly to considerable numbers. we fired at one another as long as we could see, and the day would permit. but in the mean time we observed that several of them rid to the watch hill and looked out often to the seaward. this gave us occasion to fear that they had more strength and forces coming that way, which they expected every minute. hereupon, lest we should speed worse than we had done before, we resolved to embark silently in the dark of the night." they carried off a great chest of sugar (seven pounds and a-half to each man), thirty jars of oil, and much fruit, wild and cultivated. from appearances next morning they believed the enemy had also fled in the night, as only fifty men could be seen. the prisoners, seeing a comet at dusk, told the englishmen that many such appearances had preceded the arrival of the buccaneers in the south sea. their brave prisoner, captain peralta, began at this time to show signs of insanity, his mind being shaken by continued hardship and despair at his long imprisonment. the buccaneers next landed men, hoping to take by surprise the city of la serena. here, too, they found the spaniards vigilant, and had to break through horsemen to reach the town, killing three officers and wounding four men. the town contained seven great churches and many rich merchants' houses surrounded by gardens. the inhabitants had fled, and either carried away or buried all their treasures, and a chilian prisoner said the spaniards had killed most of their negro and even their chilian slaves, for fear of their revolting and joining the buccaneers. a party of forty men, with a chilian guide, searched the woods in vain to secure prisoners for guides. the spaniards, sending a flag of truce, agreed to pay , pieces of eight as ransom for the town; but, not bringing it in, the place was set on fire. taking advantage of an earthquake, the spaniards opened the sluices and inundated the streets. every house, ringrose says, was separately fired to render the conflagration complete. two parties were then despatched laden with booty to the ships, who on their way beat up an ambuscade of spanish horse. during their absence, a daring attempt was made to burn their ship. the enemy hired a man who floated under the stern of the ship on a horse's hide, blown out like a bladder. he then stuffed oakum and brimstone between the keel and the stern-post, and set the rudder on fire. the men, alarmed at the smoke, ran up and down, not knowing where the fire could be, and believing the prisoners had done it in order to escape. the source of the evil was at last discovered, and the flames extinguished. the buccaneers, before sailing, released all their prisoners, not knowing what to do with them, and fearing that they would revolt or perhaps try to burn the ship. on reaching the island of juan fernandez, they solemnized the festival of christmas by discharging three volleys of shot, and killing sixty goats in one day. the shore was covered so thick with seals that they were obliged to shoot a few in order to land. they then filled water-jars, and were nearly lost in a place called "false wild harbour," where they killed several sea-lions. their beds they made of fern. it was on this island, their pilot told them, a deserted sailor (alexander selkirk) had lived five years. the men now in the midst of storms and dangers, were all in a mutiny. some were for going back to england or the plantations, and returning by the straits of magellan; others for continuing longer in those seas. all agreed to depose captain sharp and elect john watling, an old privateer, "and a stout seaman." the next sunday was the first, says ringrose, that had been kept by common consent since the death of sawkins, who would throw the dice overboard if he found any in use on that day. juan fernandez abounded in cabbage palms and building timber. the fish swarmed in such quantities that they could be caught with the bare hook, one sailor in a few hours capturing enough for the whole crew. shoals a mile long were seen in the bay. while busily employed in catching fish, shooting goats, and cutting timber, the hunters suddenly gave the alarm of three spanish men-of-war approaching the island, and, slipping their cables, the buccaneers put out hurriedly to sea. in the confusion, william, a mosquito indian, who could not be found at the time, was left behind to endure the hardships that a few days before he may have heard the pilot relate as experienced by the celebrated alexander selkirk (the prototype of robinson crusoe). the three spanish vessels proved to be the _el santo christo_, of tons, carrying twelve guns; the _san francisco_, of tons, with ten guns; and a third of tons. as soon as they came in sight, they hung out "bloody flags;" and the buccaneers, nothing daunted, did the same. the english, keeping close under the wind, were very unwilling to fight, as the spaniards held together, and their new commander, watling, showed a faint heart. the trio eventually sheered off, glad to escape uninjured. determining to pay a second visit to arica, twenty-five men and two canoes were despatched to obtain guides from the island of yqueque. on the shore of the mainland they found a hut built of whales' bones, a cross, and some broken jars. they brought away from the island, which they could not at first discover, two old white men and two indians. the people of arica, they found, came to this place to buy clay, and the natives were obliged to fetch all the water they used from the mainland. the indians wore no clothes, and chewed leaves which dyed their teeth green. one of the old prisoners being examined was shot to death by order of the commander, who believed him to be lying, although, as it afterwards appeared, he told nothing but the truth. sharp was troubled and dissatisfied at this cruel and rash order, and, taking water and washing his hands, he said, "gentlemen, i am clear of the blood of this old man, and will warrant you a hot day for this piece of cruelty whenever we come to fight at arica." the other prisoner said that he was the superintendent of fifty slaves belonging to the governor of the town. these slaves caught fish and sold them when dried in the inland towns. there were then three chilian ships and a bark in the harbour, and a fortification of twelve guns in the town. the people had already, he said, heard from coquimbo of their arrival, and removed and buried their treasure. there were also, they heard, breast-works round the town, and barricades in every street. disregarding these warnings, the buccaneers embarked next day in a launch and four canoes, rowing and sailing all night, in hopes of surprising arica. at daybreak they hid themselves under the cliffs for fear of being seen, and at night began again to row. on sunday (jan. ), --"sacred to the memory of king charles the martyr"--they landed among some rocks four miles to the south of the town, ninety-two men going on shore, the rest staying to defend the boats. the signal agreed on was, that at one smoke, they should come up to the harbour in one canoe; but if there were two smokes, they should "bring all away, leaving only fifteen men with the boats." mounting a steep hill, they could see no spaniards, and hoped that the surprise was complete; but as they were descending the other side, three horsemen on the look-out hill rode down at full speed and alarmed the city. the forty men who attacked the fort with hand grenades, seeing their companions overpowered, ran down into the valley to join them. "here the battle was very desperate, and they killed and wounded two more of our men from their outworks before we could gain upon them. but our rage increasing with our wounds, we still advanced, and at last beat the enemy out of all, and filled every street in the city with dead bodies. the enemy made several retreats from one breast-work to another, but, we had not a sufficient number of men to man all places taken. insomuch, that we had no sooner beat them out of one place but they came another way, and manned it again with new forces and fresh men." so says ringrose. imprudently overburdening themselves with prisoners, they found there were in the place soldiers from lima, armed townsmen, and men garrisoning the fort. being now nearly masters of the place, the english sent to demand the surrender of the fort, and, receiving no answer, advanced to the attack. several times repulsed, the buccaneers at last mounted the top of a neighbouring house and fired down into the castle; but, being again surrounded by the enemy, they were obliged to desist. the number and vigour of the enemy increased hourly, and, almost overpowered, the english were compelled to retreat to the hospital where the surgeons were tending the wounded. captain watling and both quartermasters were killed, and many were disabled. we will let ringrose tell the rest:-- "so that now, the enemy rallying against us, and beating us from place to place, we were in a very distracted condition, and in more likelihood to perish, every man, than escape the bloodshed of that day. now we found the words of captain sharp true, being all very sensible that we had a day too hot for us, after that cruel heat in killing and murdering in cold blood the old mestizo indian. "being surrounded with difficulties on all sides, and in great disorder, having nobody to give orders, what was to be done? we were glad to have our eyes upon our good old commander, captain bartholomew sharp, and beg of him very earnestly to commiserate our condition, and carry us off. it was a great while before he would take any notice of our request, so much was he displeased with the former mutiny of our people against him, all which had been occasioned by the instigation of mr. cook. "but mr. sharp is a man of an undaunted courage, and excellent conduct, not fearing in the least to look an insulting enemy in the face, and a person that knows both the theory and practice of navigation as well as most do. hereupon, at our earnest request and petition, he took upon him the command in chief again, and began to distribute his orders for our safety. he would have brought off our surgeons, but they, having been drinking while we assaulted the fort, would not come with us when they were called. they killed and took of our number twenty-eight men, besides eighteen that we brought off, who were desperately wounded. at that time we were all extremely faint for want of water and victuals, whereof we had none all that day. we were likewise almost choked with the dust of the town, being so much raised by the work that their guns had made, that we could scarce see each other. they beat us out of the town, then followed us into the savannahs, still charging as fast as they could. but when they saw that we rallied, again resolving to die one by another, they ran from us into the town, and sheltered themselves under their breast-works. thus we retreated in as good order as we possibly could observe in that confusion. but their horsemen followed us as we retired, and fired at us all the way, though they would not come within reach of our guns, for theirs reached further than ours, and outshot us above one-third. we took the sea-side for our greater security, which when the enemy saw, they betook themselves to the hills, rolling down great stones and whole rocks to destroy us. meanwhile, those of the town examined our surgeons, and other men whom they had made prisoners. these gave them our signs that we had left to our boats that were behind us, so that they immediately blew up two fires, which were perceived by the canoes. this was the greatest of our dangers; for had we not come at that instant that we did to the sea-side, our boats had been gone, they being already under sail, and we had inevitably perished every man. thus we put off from the shore, and got on board about ten at night, having been involved in a bloody fight with the enemy all the day." the buccaneers, thus cruelly baffled, plied for some time outside the port, hoping to be revenged on the three ships, but they did not venture out. arica ringrose describes as a square place, with the castle at one corner. the houses were only eleven feet high, and built of earth. it was the place of embarkation for all minerals sent to lima. of the english prisoners, only ten survived. the spaniards lost more than seventy men, three times as many being wounded, and of forty-five allies from hillo only two returned alive. on dividing the plate, they found only thirty-seven pieces of eight fell to each man. landing at guasco, they took in jars of water, and carried off sheep, goats, and bushels of flour. at hillo they surprised the townsmen asleep, and heard a false report that englishmen had taken panama. they carried off eighteen jars of wine and some new figs, and, ascending to the sugar-work they had before visited, laded seven mules with molasses and sugar. the townsmen told them, that the owner of the mill had brought an action against them for having done him more injury than the buccaneers. a few days after this another mutiny broke out, and forty-seven men, refusing to serve any longer under captain sharp, landed near the island of plate, with five indian slaves to serve as guides. near the island of chica they captured two spanish vessels, one of them the very ship they had captured before at panama. they heard here that some of their overland parties had taken a good ship at porto bello. capturing some spanish shipwrights at this place, they employed them for a fortnight in altering their vessel, and then set them at liberty, with some others of their prisoners, giving them one of their prizes, and manning the other with six men and two slaves. they now agreed in council to bear up for golfo dolce, there to careen their vessels, and then to cruise about under the equinoctial. they landed in golfo dolce, and, treating kindly some indians whom they took prisoners, bought honey and plantains of them. here they learned that the spaniards, having treacherously captured forty darien chiefs, had forced the natives into a peace. having careened here, they soon after captured a rich prize, the _san pedro_, bound from truxillo to panama, deeply laden with , pieces of eight, in chest and bags, besides plate. this was the same vessel they had taken the year before, and it was now their prize a second time in fourteen months. the crew consisted of forty men, besides friars and merchants. taking out part of her lading of cocoa, they cut down her masts and turned her adrift with all the old slaves, as "_a reward for good service_," taking new ones from the prize. francisco, a negro, who had attempted to escape by swimming on shore in the golfo dolce, they retained as a prisoner, as a punishment for his insubordination. from this prize each buccaneer received pieces of eight, much being left for a future division. they learnt from this vessel that a new viceroy of peru, arrived at panama, had not dared to venture to lima in his ship of twenty-five guns, but had waited for the armada as a convoy. a few days later, they captured the packet that ran between lima and panama. a friar and five negroes escaped on shore, but two white women were captured. rummaging the boat, they found nothing of value but a letter announcing the departure of the viceroy with four ships. the prisoners and the boat were then released. "that week," says ringrose, "we stood out to sea all night long, most of our men being fuddled." the next day they captured a spanish vessel that had at first frightened them by its size. the volleys of the buccaneers soon drove the spaniards into the hold and made them cry for quarter, having killed the captain at the first fire, and wounded the boatswain. captain sharp and twelve others were the first to board. she proved to be _el santo rosario_, commanded by don diego lopez, bound from callao to panama. the crew were forty in number. she was deeply laden with plate and coined money, and carried jars of wine and brandy. at cape passao sharp sank the bark taken at nicoya, preserving her rigging, and disabling the last prize set the prisoners adrift in it, keeping only the one man, named francisco, who had described himself as the best pilot in those seas. they then divided the booty, which came to ninety-four pieces of eight a man. from these prisoners they learned that their men taken at arica had been kindly treated at callao. of the last party that one had been captured, and the rest had had to fight their way overland through indians and spaniards. ten buccaneers were also announced as about to enter the south sea. in august they landed again to kill goats on the island of plate, where ringrose and james chappel, a quartermaster, fought a duel on shore, with what result we do not know. the same evening a conspiracy of the slaves was detected, in which they had plotted to slay all their masters when in drink, not sparing any. the ringleader, san jago, a prisoner from yqueque, leaped overboard when the plot was discovered, and was shot by the captain. the rest, being terrified at his death, were forgiven, and the same night the usual debauch took place in spite of the danger. from their pilot they heard that a lima vessel bound for guayaquil had run ashore lately on santa clara, losing , pieces of eight, that would have been their prize. they heard also that the viceroy of peru had beheaded the great admiral ponce for not destroying the buccaneer fleet while at gorgona. they next made a descent on paita, but found the place garrisoned by three companies horse and foot, well armed, from puira, twelve leagues up the country. musketeers and lancers occupied a hill and a breast-work, and fired upon the canoes. had they suffered them to land they might have killed them to a man. finding the whole coast now alarmed, they bore at once away for the straits of magellan. touching at some unknown islands, they were almost inclined to winter there. here they shot geese, made broth of limpets, and one of the boats captured an indian and shot another dead. the prisoner was clad in a seal's skin, and carried a net to catch penguins. he was so strong as to be able to open mussels with his fingers, and they kept him as a slave, and called him orson. they then proceeded to divide eight chests of money still unallotted, and each man received pieces of eight. on december th captain sharp received intelligence of a conspiracy to shoot him during the ensuing festivities of christmas-day. the only precaution he took was at once to divide all the wine in store, believing that no sober man would attempt so dastardly an act. each mess received three jars. the cold grew now so intense that several of the negro slaves had their feet mortify, and some died. christmas-day was celebrated by killing a fat sow, this being the first flesh the men had eaten since they left the island of plata. by january th the days grew very hot again, and the nights cool and dewy. the men, weary of the voyage, offered a piece of eight "each man" to him who first discovered land. the sight of birds soon indicated this, and january th the look-out spied barbadoes; but hearing of peace they dared not put in for fear of being seized, and therefore steered for antigua, much afraid of frigates, and shunning even a bristol interloper that lay in the offing. ringrose says: "here i cannot easily express the infinite joy we were possessed with all this day, to see our own countrymen again." they then freed a negro shoemaker, whom they had kept as a prisoner, and who had been very serviceable during the voyage. to captain sharp the men gave a mulatto boy as slave, for a token of the respect of his whole company to him for having led them safely through so many dangerous adventures. they then divided the last parcels of money, and received twenty-four pieces of eight a man. a little spanish shock dog, taken from a prize, was also sold at the mast by public outcry, for forty pieces of eight, the owner promising all he gained should be devoted to a general feast. captain sharp bought the dog, saying he would eat it if they did not soon get leave to land. pieces of eight was also added to the store, the boatswain, carpenter, and quartermaster having quarrelled about the last dividend. on reaching antigua sharp sent a canoe ashore to buy tobacco and other necessaries, and to ask leave of the governor to land. the conclusion of ringrose's book tells the rest: "the gentry of the place and common people were very willing and desirous to receive us, but on wednesday, february st, the governor flatly refused us entry, at which all the gentry were much troubled, showing themselves very kind to us; hereupon we agreed among ourselves to give the ship to those of our company who had no money left them of all their purchase in this voyage, having lost it at play, and then put ourselves on board two ships bound for england. so i myself and thirteen more of our company went on board captain robert porteen's ship called the _lisbon merchant_, set sail from la antigua february th, and landed in england march th, anno ." on his arrival in england captain sharp was tried for piracy and acquitted. he at once resolved to return to the west indies, but all the merchant ships refused to carry him, afraid he would tempt their men to revolt against their master, and run away with the ship for a privateer, as he had done before. no promises or entreaties could avail, and he seemed doomed to remain a prisoner in an island for which he entertained no filial affection. he therefore hit upon a desperate scheme, worthy of such a man. collecting a little money he bought an old, half-rotten boat, lying near london-bridge, for £ , and embarked with sixteen desperadoes equally fearless as himself, carrying a supply of butter and cheese, and two dozen pieces of salt beef. he sailed down the river and reached the downs, and there he boarded and captured a french vessel and sank his boat. by a foray on romney marsh he supplied himself with cattle, and sailed away like a bold buccaneer as he was, to die no one knows where. chapter v. dampier's voyages. leaves captain sharp--land march over the isthmus--joins captain wright--wreck of the french fleet--returns to england--second voyage with captain cook--guinea coast--juan fernandez--takes ampalla--takes paita--dampier's scheme of seizing the mines--attacks manilla galleon--captain swan--death unknown. van horn--captures galleons--takes vera cruz--killed in a duel by le graff. dampier, one of the wisest and best of english travellers, was himself a buccaneer. son of a somersetshire farmer, he went early to sea, and became a freebooter without much compunction, just at the time when the brothers of the coast were sinking into mere pirates. "no peace beyond the line" was their early motto; "friends to god and enemies to all mankind," was the later. the flag, once reddened by the spaniards' blood, grew now black with the shadows of death and of the grave. dampier was among those who left captain sharp after the dreadful repulse from arica. his party consisted of forty-four englishmen and two mosquito indians, who determined to re-cross the isthmus of darien, and return to the north pacific ocean. they carried with them a large quantity of flour and chocolate mixed with sugar, and took a mutual and terrible oath, that if any of their number sank from fatigue, he should be shot by his comrades, rather than allow him to fall into the hands of the spaniards, who would not only torture him horribly, but compel him to betray his companions. in a fortnight after leaving the vessels they landed at the mouth of a river in the bay of st. michael, where unloading their provisions and arms they sank their boats; and while preparing for the inland journey, the indians caught fish, and built huts for them to sleep in. the next day they struck into an indian path and reached a village, but found, to their alarm, that the spaniards had placed armed ships at the mouths of all the navigable rivers to intercept them on their return. hiring an indian guide, they reached the day after a native house, but the savage would neither give them food nor information. at any other time the buccaneers would have at once put him on the rack, or hung him at his own door, but they felt this was no place to be angry, for their lives lay in the enemy's hands. neither dollars, hatchets, nor knives, would move this stubborn man, till a sailor pulled a sky blue petticoat from his bag and threw it over the head of the indian's wife. delighted with the gift, she coaxed her husband till he gave them information and found a guide. it had rained hard for two days, the country was difficult and fatiguing, and there was no path that even an indian eye could discover. they guided themselves by day by the rivers, and at night by the stars. they had frequently to ford the rivers twenty or thirty times in twelve hours. rain, cold, fatigue, and hunger made them forget even the spaniards. in a few days they reached the house of a young spanish indian, who had lived with the bishop of panama, and who received them kindly. here, while resting to dry their arms and powder, their surgeon, mr. wafer, had his knee burnt by an accidental explosion. after dragging himself along with pain for another day, he determined to remain behind with two or three more. he stayed five months with the indians, and the published account of his experiences still exists. the rainy season that frightened mr. ringrose had now set in, and the thunder and lightning was frequent and violent. the valleys and river banks were overflowed, and the buccaneers had to sleep in trees or under their shade, instead of building warm and sheltering huts. in the very height of their misery, the slaves fled and carried away all they could. dampier, whose only anxiety was to preserve his journal, placed it in a bamboo, closed at both ends with wax. in fording one of the rivers, a buccaneer, who carried dollars on his back, was swept down the stream and drowned, but the survivors were too hopeless and weary to look for either body or gold. in eighteen days the english reached the river concepcion, and, obtaining indian canoes, rowed to le sound's key, one of the samballas islands, where buccaneers rendezvoused. here they embarked on board a french privateer, commanded by captain tristian, dismissing their indian guides with presents of money, beads, and hatchets. at springer's key, tristian joined them with other vessels, and would have attacked panama had not dampier and his men deterred them. for a week the council deliberated about the available towns worth plundering from trinidad to vera cruz. the french and english could not agree, but at last all sailed for carpenter's river, touching at the isle of st. andreas. the ships separated in a gale; and dampier taking a dislike to his french commander, induced captain wright, an englishman, to fit out a small vessel and cruise for provisions along the coast. while the sailors shot pecary, deer, parrots, pigeons, monkeys, and cuvassow birds, their mosquito indians struck turtle for their use. on returning to le sound's key they were joined by mr. wafer, who had escaped from the darien indians, but he was so painted and bedizened that it was some time before they could recognize him. an indian chief had offered him his daughter in marriage, and he had only got away by pretending to go in search of english dogs for hunting. passing carthagena, they cast wistful eyes at the convent dedicated to the virgin, situated on a steep hill behind the town. there was immense wealth hoarded in this place, rich offerings being frequently made to it, and many miracles worked by our lady. any misfortune that befel the buccaneer was attributed to this lady's doing, and the spaniards reported that she was abroad that night the _oxford_ man-of-war blew up at the isle of vaca, and that she came home all wet, and with clothes soiled and torn. captain wright's company pillaged several small places about the rio de la hache and the rancherias pearl fisheries, and captured, after a smart engagement, an armed ship of twelve guns and forty men, laden with sugar, tobacco, and marmalade, bound to carthagena from santiago, in cuba. the dutch governor of curaçoa, having much trade with the spaniards, would not openly buy the cargo, but offered, if it was sent among the danes of st. thomas, to purchase it through his agents. the rovers, declining this, sold it at another dutch colony, and then sailed for the isle of aves, so called from the quantity of boobies and men-of-war birds. on a coral reef, near this island, count d'estrees had shortly before lost the whole french fleet. he himself had first run ashore, and firing guns to warn the rest of the danger, they hurried on to the same shoal, thinking, in the darkness, that he had been attacked by the enemy. the ships held together till the next day, and many men were saved. the ordinary seamen died of hunger and fatigue, but the buccaneers, hardier, and accustomed to frequent wrecks, made the escape an excuse for revel and debauchery. as dampier says, they, "being used to such accidents, lived merrily, and if they had gone to jamaica with £ in their pockets, could not have enjoyed themselves more; for they kept a gang by themselves and watched when the ships broke up, to get the goods that came out of them, and, though much was staved against the rocks, yet abundance of wine and brandy floated over the reef where they waited to take it up." * * "there were about forty frenchmen on board one of the ships, in which was good store of liquor, till the after part of her broke, and floated over the reef and was carried away to sea, with all the men drinking and singing, who, being in drink, did not mind the danger, but were never heard of afterwards." this wreck having left the bird island a storehouse of masts and spars, the buccaneer vessels had begun to repair thither to careen and refit. among others, a captain pan, a frenchman, had been there. a dutch vessel of twenty guns, despatched from curaçoa to fish up the sunken cannon, observing the privateer, resolved to capture him before he began his diving. pan, afraid of the dutchman's superior force, abandoned his vessel, and, landing his guns, prepared to throw up a redoubt. while thus engaged, a dutch sloop entered the road, and at night anchored at the opposite end of the island. in the night, pan, with two canoes, boarded the ship, and made off, leaving his empty hulk for the dutch man-of-war. at this island, dampier's men careened their largest vessel, scrubbed the sugar prize, and recovered two guns from the wreck. at the island of rocas, a knight of malta, captain of a french thirty-six gun ship, bought ten tons of their sugar. failing to sell any more sugar at petit guaves, they sailed for blanco, an uninhabited island, full of lignum-vitæ trees, and teeming with iguanas, that were to be found in the swamps, among the bushes, or in the trees. their eggs were eaten by the buccaneers, who made soup of the flesh for their sick. while cruising on the caraccas coast, they landed in some of the bays, and took seven or eight tons of cocoa, and three barks laden with hides, brandy, earthenware, and european goods. returning to the rocas, they divided the spoil, and dampier and nineteen others embarking in one of the prizes, reached virginia july . dampier's next voyage was with a creole, named cook, who arrived at virginia with a french vessel he had captured by a trick at petit guaves. he had been quartermaster, or second in command, under a french flibustier named gandy. by the usual buccaneer law, he had been made captain of a large spanish prize. the french commanders in the same fleet, jealous of this promotion, seized the ship, plundered the english prize crew, and sent them ashore. tristan, another french captain, took ten of them with him to petit guaves. cook and his nine companions, taking advantage of a day when tristan and many of his men were absent, overpowered the rest of the crew, sent them ashore, and sailed to the isle à la vache. here he picked up a crew of english buccaneers, and steered for virginia, taking two prizes by the way, one of which was a french vessel, laden with wines. he then sold his wine and two of the ships, and equipped the largest, the _revenge_, with eighteen guns. amongst the crew were dampier, wafer, and cowley, all of whom have written narratives of their voyages. they sailed from the chesapeak on the rd of august , and captured a dutch vessel, laden with wine and provisions. at the cape de verd islands they encountered a dreadful storm, that lasted a week. while the ship scudded before wind and sea under bare poles, she was suddenly broached to by order of the master, and would have foundered but for dampier and another man who, going aloft and spreading out the flaps of their coats, righted the ship. at the isle of sal, the sailors feasted on flamingo tongues. these birds stood in ranks round the feeding ponds, so as to resemble a new brick wall. they purchased here some ambergris, which dampier says he had in a lump of lbs. weight. its origin was at that time unknown; it is now believed to be a secretion of the whale. the governor and his court at this island rejoiced in rags, their revenues being small, and drawn principally from the salt ponds, from which the island derives its name. having dug wells, watered, and careened, they went to mayo to obtain provisions, but were not allowed to land, as only about a week before captain bond, a pirate of bristol, had carried off the governor and some of his people. steering to the straits of magellan, they were driven to the guinea coast, and there captured a danish ship by a stratagem. captain cook, concealing his men under deck, approached the dane like a weak, unarmed merchant vessel. when quite close, he commanded in a loud voice the helm to be put one way, while by a preconcerted plan the steersman shifted into another, and fell on board the dane, which was captured with the loss of only five men. she was double their size, carried thirty-six guns, and was equipped and victualled for a long voyage. this vessel they called _the bachelor's delight_, and they at once burned the _revenge_, that she might "tell no tales." during frequent tornadoes near the straits, being short of fresh meat, the sailors caught sharks during the calms, and boiling their flesh, stewed it with pepper and vinegar. when they reached the falkland, or sebald de weist islands, as they were then called, dampier proposed to the captain to reach juan fernandez by cape horn, avoiding the straits. their men being privateers, wilful, and not much in command, he feared would not give sufficient attention in a passage so difficult, and, though he owns they were more than usually obedient, he says he could not expect to find them at an instant's call in critical moments. at these islands they found the sea for a mile round red with shoals of small, scarlet-shelled lobsters. dampier's advice was not taken, but on entering the south sea they met the _nicholas_, of london, a vessel fitted out ostensibly as a trader, but being in reality a buccaneer. the captain came on board, related his adventures, and gave them a supply of bread and beef. they reached juan fernandez together, and heard from the _nicholas_ of a vessel from london, called the _cygnet_, commanded by captain swan, which was sailing in those latitudes. it was a trader, holding a licence from the duke of york, then high admiral of england. the crews discovered on the island the mosquito indian left behind by captain watling, in lussan's expedition, because he was hunting goats when the vessel sailed. he was warmly greeted by dampier, a fellow-countryman named robin, and some old messmates. robin, running up to him, fell flat on his face at his feet, and then rose and embraced him. they found he had killed three goats, and prepared some cabbage palms, to feast his visitors. the interview, writes dampier, was tender, solemn, and affecting. when abandoned, william had nothing with him but his gun and a knife, some powder, and some shot. by notching his knife into a saw, he cut his gun barrel into pieces. these he hammered in the fire, and ground them into lances, harpoons, hooks, and knives. he hunted goats, fished, and killed seals. his clothes he made of skins, and with these also he had lined his hut; and he had contrived to elude the search of the spaniards. wild goats, originally brought by the spaniard, abounded on the hills and in the grassy valleys. there was abundance of water and good timber, and the bays abounded with seals and sea-lions, that covered the sea for a mile. remaining here sixteen days, for the sake of the sick and those ill with the scurvy, and getting in water and provision, cook then steered for the american coast, standing out fourteen or fifteen leagues to escape the notice of the spaniard. the ridges were blue and mountainous. they soon captured a timber ship from guayaquil laden with timber for lima, from whose crew they heard that their arrival was known. they anchored next at the sandy islet of lobos de la mar, and scrubbed their ships. captain eaton, of the _nicholas_, proposing to march with them in their descents, and the two vessels mustering able men, cook soon took another prize, and eaton two more, which he pursued. they were laden with flour from lima for panama, and in one of them was eight tons of quince marmalade. the prisoners informed them that, on the rumour of their approach, , pieces of eight had been landed at an intermediate port. they sailed next to the galapagos islands, abandoning a design on truxillo, which they heard had been lately fortified. on these rocky, barren shores they feasted on turtle, pigeons, fish, and the leaves of the mammee tree. off cape blanco, captain cook died, and was buried on land. capturing some spanish indians who had been sent as spies by the governor of panama, they used them as guides, and landed on the coast in search of cattle. here a few of the men were surprised by fifty armed spaniards, and their boat burned. the sailors thus imperilled waded out neck deep to an insulated rock near the shore, and remained there for seven hours exposed to the spanish bullets, till they were taken off by a boat from their ship just as the tide was rising to devour them. the spanish, lurking in ambush, made no attempt to resist the rescue. the quartermaster, edward davis, was now elected commander; and after cutting lancewood for the handles of their oars, they bore away for ria lexa, steering for a high volcano that rises above the town and the island that forms the harbour. but here, too, the spaniards had thrown up breast-works and placed sentinels, and the buccaneers sailed for the gulf of ampalla and the island of mangera. davis captured the padre of a village and two indian boys, and, proceeding to ampalla, informed the people that he commanded a biscay ship, sent by the king of spain to clear those seas of pirates, and that he had come there to careen. the sailors were well received, and entertained with feasts and music, and they all repaired together to celebrate a festival by torchlight in the church. here davis hoped to cage them till he could dictate a ransom, but the impatience of one of his men frustrated the plan. pushing in a lingering indian, the man spread an alarm, the people all fled, and the buccaneers, firing, killed one of their chiefs. they remained, however, good friends, and these very indians soon after helped to store the ship with cattle belonging to a nunnery, situated on an island in the gulf. on leaving, davis gave them one of his prize ships, and a quantity of flour, and released the priest who had helped him in his first stratagem. the crews now quarrelled, and davis, who claimed the largest share of the common plunder, left them, taking dampier with him. eaton touched at cocos island, purchased a store of flour, and took in water and cocoa nuts. davis landed at manta, a village near cape st. lorenzo, and captured two old women, in order to obtain information. they learnt that many buccaneers had lately crossed the isthmus, and were coming along the coast in canoes and piraguas. the viceroy had left no means untried to check them; the goats on the uninhabited islands had been destroyed, provisions were removed from the shore, and ships even burnt to save them from the enemy. at la plata, davis was joined by captain swan in the _cygnet_, who had turned freebooter in self-defence. he had been joined by peter harris, who commanded a small bark, and was nephew of the buccaneer commander killed in a sea-fight at panama three years before. they now sent for eaton, but found from a letter at the rendezvous at lobos, that he had already sailed for the east indies. while the ships were refitting at la plata, a small bark taken by davis, after the spaniards had set it on fire, captured a spaniard of tons, laden with timber, and brought word that the viceroy was fitting out ten frigates to sweep them from the seas. captain swan, at this crisis, turned wholly freebooter, and cleared his ship of goods by selling them to every buccaneer on credit. the bulky bales he threw overboard, the silks and muslins he kept, and retained the iron bars for ballast. in compensation for these sacrifices, the buccaneers agreed to set aside ten shares of all booty for captain swan's owners. having cleaned the vessels and fitted up a fire-ship, the squadron landed at paita, but found it deserted. anchoring off the place, they demanded as ransom pecks of flour, pounds of sugar, twenty-five jars of wine, and of water, and having coasted six days and obtained nothing, they burnt the town in revenge, and sailed away. they found afterwards that eaton had been there not long before, landed his prisoners, and burnt a ship in the road. burning harris's vessel, which proved unseaworthy, the squadron steered for the island of lobos del tierra, and, being short of food, took in a supply of seals, penguins, and boobies, their mosquito men supplying them with turtle, while the ships were cleaned and provided with firewood, preparatory to a descent upon guayaquil. embarking in their canoes, they captured in the bay a small ship laden with quito cloth and two vessels full of negroes. one of these they dismasted, and a few only of the slaves they took with them. from disagreement between the two crews, the expedition failed. having lain in the woods all night, and cut a road with great difficulty, they abandoned the scheme without firing a shot, when almost within a mile of the town, which they believed was alarmed, and on the watch. dampier now proposed a scheme as feasible and grand as any of raleigh's. he declared that they never had a greater opportunity of enriching themselves. his bold plan was, with the negroes lying in the three prizes, to go and work the gold mines of st. martha. the indians would at once join them from their hatred of the spaniards. for provision they had tons of flour laid up in the galapagos islands; the north sea would be open to them; thousands of buccaneers would join them from all parts of the west indies; united they would be a match for all the forces of peru, and might be at once masters of the west coast as high as quito. this golden cloud melted into mere fog. the buccaneers returned to la plata, divided the quito cloth, and turned the guayaquil vessel into a tender for the _swan_. the old buccaneers of davis now quarrelled with the new recruits in the _swan_, accused them of cowardice and of having baulked the attempt on guayaquil, and complained of having to supply them with flour and turtle, for they had neither provisions nor indian fishermen. unable to divorce, the ill-assorted pair proceeded to attack together lavelia, in the bay of panama. from charts found in the prizes they checked the deceptions and errors of the spanish and indian prisoners whom they employed as pilots. their object was now to search for canoes in rivers unvisited by the spaniards, where their schemes might remain still undiscovered. such rivers abounded from the equinoctial line to the gulf of st. michael. when five days out from la plata they made a sudden swoop on the village of tomaco, and captured a vessel laden with timber, with a spanish knight, eight sailors, and a canoe containing twelve jars of old wine. a boat party that rowed up the st. jago river visited a house belonging to a lady of lima, whose servants traded with the indians for gold, several ounces of which were found left by them in their calabashes when they fled. the twin vessels next sailed for the island of gallo, capturing by the way a packet boat from lima, fishing up the letters, which the spaniards had thrown overboard attached to a buoy. from these they learnt that the governor of panama was hastening the departure of the triennial plate fleet from callo to panama, where it would be carried on mules across the isthmus. to intercept this fleet and to grow millionaires in a day was now their only dream. they proceeded at once to careen their ships at the pearl islands in the bay of panama. their force consisted of two ships, three barks, a fire-ship, and two small tenders. near the uninhabited island of gorgona they captured a flour ship, and landing most of their prisoners at gorgona, they proceeded to the bay, captured a small provision boat, and continued their watch, cruising round the city. having cut off all communication between panama and the islands in the bay, davis proposed an exchange of prisoners, surrendering forty monks, whom he was glad to get rid of, for one of harris's band and a sailor who had been surprised while hunting on an island. the lima fleet still delaying, the buccaneers anchored at tavoga, an island abounding in cocoa and mammee trees, and beautiful water. about this time they were nearly ensnared by a spanish ship, sent to the island at midnight under pretence of clandestine traffic. this scheme originated in captain bond, an english pirate who had deserted to the enemy. the squadron, which had scattered in alarm, to avoid the fire-ship, were just re-uniting and looking for their abandoned anchors, when a cry rose that a fleet of armed canoes were steering direct towards them through the island channel. this was the french flibustiers of which we have given an account in the adventures of ravenau de lussan. after joining in the sea-fight off panama, and the descent upon leon and ria lexa, the buccaneers again split into small parties. dampier joined swan and townley, who determined to cruise along the shores of the mine country of mexico, and then, sailing as high as the south-west point of california, cross the pacific, and return to england by india. at guatalico, famous for its blowing rock, they landed their sick for a few days, and obtained provisions, and, in a descent near acapulco, stopped a string of sixty laden mules and killed eighteen beeves, carrying off all the cattle safely to their ships. to obtain provisions, swan sacked the town of st. pecaque, on the coast of new gallicia, where large stores were kept for the use of the slaves of the neighbouring mines. a great many of these he carried off the first day on horseback and on the shoulders of his men. these visits were repeated--a party of buccaneers keeping the town till the spaniards had collected a force. of this captain swan gave his men due warning, exhorting them, on their way to their canoes with the burdens of maize, to keep together in a compact body, but they chose to follow their own course, every man straggling singly while leading his horse, or carrying a load on his shoulder. they accordingly fell into the ambush the spaniards had laid for them, and to the amount of fifty were surprised and mercilessly butchered. the spaniards, seizing their arms and loaded horses, fled, before swan, who heard the distant firing, could come to the assistance of his men. fifty-four englishmen and nine blacks fell in this affair, which was the most severe the buccaneers had encountered in the south sea. dampier relates that captain swan had been warned of this disaster by an astrologer he had consulted before he sailed from england. many of the men, too, had foreboded the misfortune; and the previous night, while lying in the church of st. pecaque, had been disturbed by frequent groanings which kept them from sleeping. this disaster drove swan from the coast to careen at cape st. lucas, the south point of california--in revenge for his loss leaving his pilot and prisoners on an uninhabited island. while lying here, dampier was cured of dropsy by being buried all but his head in hot sand. the whole men were now living on short allowances of maize, and the fish the indians struck salted for store. one meal a-day was now the rule, and the victuals were served out by the quartermaster with the exactness of gold. yet, even in this distress, two dogs and two cats received their daily shares. they now started for their cruise among the philippines. in a long run of , miles they saw no living thing--neither bird, fish, nor insect, except one solitary flight of boobies. at the end of the voyage the men were almost in mutiny at the want of food, and had secretly resolved to kill and eat their captain (swan), and afterwards, in regular order, all who had promoted the voyage. at the island of gualan, where there was a spanish fort and a garrison of thirty men, the buccaneers traded with the natives, who took them for spaniards from acapulco. captain eaton, who had visited the island before them on his way to india, had, at the instigation of the spaniards, plundered and killed many of the natives, and driven the rest to emigration. while trading here the acapulco vessel arrived, and, being signalled by the governor, took to flight; but in her hurry to escape ran upon a shoal, from which she was with difficulty extricated. swan, who now grew anxious for quiet commerce, discouraged the pursuit, and proceeded quietly on his voyage. at mindanao, captain swan and thirty-six men were left behind by his crew, who were only anxious for plunder, and soon after captured a spanish vessel bound for manilla. captain swan was eventually drowned while attempting to escape to a dutch vessel lying in the river. weary of the mean robberies of the crew, who now turned mere pirates, dampier left them at the nicobar islands, and, embarking in canoes, reached sumatra, and eventually sailed for england. the buccaneers left behind in the south sea prospered, and made many successful descents. at lavelia townley captured the treasure and merchandise landed from the lima ship in the former year, for which swan had watched so long in vain, and for which the buccaneers had fought in the bay of panama. townley died of his wounds. harris followed swan across the pacific; and knight, another english buccaneer, satiated with plunder, returned home laden with spanish gold; and off cape corrientes they lay in wait in vain for the manilla ship, the great prize aimed at by all adventurers. soon after, a malignant fever breaking out among the crews, many left the squadron and returned towards panama, carrying back the darien indians, but leaving the mosquito indians in the _cygnet_. davis sailed from guayaquil to careen at the galapagos islands, which were in the south pacific what tortuga was in the north, the harbour and sanctuary of the buccaneers. in returning by cape horn, davis discovered easter island, and left five of his men and five negro slaves on juan fernandez. these men had been stripped at the gambling-table, and were unwilling to return empty-handed. the _bachelor's delight_ eventually doubled cape horn, and he reached the west indies just in time to avail himself of a pardon offered by royal proclamation. dampier reached england in , and having published his travels, was sent out in by william iii. on a voyage of discovery to new holland, and was wrecked near ascension. in queen anne's reign, during the war of the succession, he commanded two privateers, and cruised against the spaniards in the south sea. his objects were to capture the spanish plate vessels sailing from buenos ayres, to lie in wait for the gold ship from boldivia to lima, and to seize the manilla galleon. off juan fernandez he fought a french buccaneer vessel for seven hours, but parted without effecting a capture. so strong were his old flibustier habits upon him, that he confesses it with reluctance he attacked any vessel not a spaniard. before they reached the proper latitude the boldivia vessel had sailed. captain stradling, the commander of his companion ship, parted company. a surprise of santa maria, in the bay of panama, failed, but dampier made a few small prizes. while lying in the gulf of nicoya, his chief mate, john clipperton, mutinied, and, seizing his tender, with its ammunition and stores, put out to sea. a worse disappointment awaited the commander--off the fort de narida he came suddenly upon the manilla galleon, and gave her several broadsides before she could clear for action. but even at this disadvantage the spaniards' twenty-four pounders soon silenced dampier's five pounders, drove in the rotten planks of his vessel, the _st. george_, and compelled him to sheer off--the galleon's crew quadrupling that of the english. the men growing despondent and weary of the voyage, dampier put thirty-four of them into a prize brigantine of seventy tons, and appointed one named funnel as their commander. allowing them to sail for india, he with twenty-nine men returned to peru and plundered the town of puna. the vessel being no longer fit for sea, they abandoned her at lobos de la mar, and embarking in a spanish brigantine crossed the pacific. in india, dampier, having had his commission stolen by some of his deserters, was imprisoned by the dutch. when he reached england at last, he found that funnel had returned and published his voyage to the west indies. a few of his men who had lost their money in gambling remained in the _bachelor's delight_ with davis. it is supposed he now fell into very extreme poverty, for in we find him acting as pilot to the two bristol privateers that circumnavigated the globe, and were as successful as he had been unfortunate. at juan fernandez the commander, woodes rogers, brought off the celebrated alexander selkirk, who had been abandoned here four years before, by dampier's mutinous consort, captain stradling, and, by the traveller's advice, the poor outcast was made second mate of the _duke_. at guayaquil, where dampier commanded the artillery, they obtained plunder to the value of £ , , besides , dollars, as ransom for the town. off cape lucas they captured a rich manilla ship, laden with merchandise, and containing £ , in gold and silver. they also encountered the great manilla galleon, but were beaten off after a severe engagement with a loss of twenty-five men. after a run of two months they reached gualan, and obtained provisions by anchoring under spanish colours. visiting batavia, they waited a long time at the cape for a home-bound fleet, and in july, , entered the texel five-and-twenty sail, dutch and english; and in october sailed up the thames with booty valued at £ , . of the great dampier we hear no more, and his very burial place is unknown. van horn was originally a common dutch sailor, who, having, by dint of the prudence of his nation, saved dollars, entered into partnership with a messmate who had laid by the same sum, and, going to france, obtained a privateer's commission, and fitted up a fishing-boat with a crew of thirty men. cruising first as dutch, he then purchased a large vessel at ostend, and, hoisting the french flag, made war on all nations. the french court ordered m. d'estrees to detain this flying dutchman, whose commission had now expired, and a ship was sent for the purpose; but as the commander had no orders to proceed to extremities, and van horn was determined not to go alive, he was suffered to escape. quite undaunted he proceeded to puerto rico, entered the bay, sounding his trumpets, and, sending on shore, told the governor that he had come to offer his services to escort the galleons which were then ready to sail. the governor accepted the offer, and van horn sailed off with them; but being soon joined by some buccaneer companions, he turned on the prey, seized the richest, sank some others, and pursued the rest. such was the commencement of this adventurer's career. his after life was worthy of such a beginning. van horn was immensely rich. he usually wore a string of pearls of extraordinary size, and a large ruby of great beauty. his widow lived afterwards at ostend. in , van horn, who had all his life fought under french colours, though not very scrupulous about what nation a vessel was, so it were rich, having gone to st. domingo to sell negroes, had his ship confiscated by the spanish governor. the buccaneer's ungovernable passions could no more brook such an insult than a knight would have borne a blow. buccaneer pride desired revenge; buccaneer cupidity desired redress. resolved on vengeance, the angry dutchman hastened to petit guaves, and took out a commission from the governor of tortuga, and at once enrolled of the bravest buccaneers, with a determination of attacking vera cruz. among his crew were enrolled several of the leading buccaneer chiefs. grammont, who had lately lost his ship at the isles des aves, lately a commander, was now a mere volunteer. such were the vicissitudes of buccaneer life. laurence de graff was also there. he was a dutchman like van horn, but one came from ostend and the other from dort. among the less celebrated were godefroy and jonqué. their numbers soon swelled to , picked men, in six vessels, under the command of van horn and de graff, who had each a frigate of fifty guns, while the rest had simple barks. their common aim was vera cruz, the emporium of all the riches of new spain, and they needed no other incitement to urge them to speed and unity. from some spanish prisoners they heard that two large vessels laden with cocoa were hourly expected at vera cruz from the caraccas. the buccaneer leaders instantly fitted up two of their largest ships in the spanish fashion, and, hoisting the spanish flag, sent them boldly into the harbour, as if just returning as peaceful but armed traders from a long and successful voyage. it was the eve of the assumption, crowds of sailors and townsmen lined the quays, and the expectant populace cheered the rich merchantmen as they steered with a stately sweep into the haven. the keener eyes, however, soon observed that the caraccas vessels advanced very slowly, although the wind was good, and their suspicions became excited almost before the buccaneers could work into port. some even ran to tell the governor that all was not right, but don luis de cordova told them that their fears were foolish, the two vessels he knew by unmistakable signs to be the two vessels he expected; and he returned the same answer to the commander of the fort at st. jean d'ulloa, who also sent to bid him be upon his guard. about midnight the french, under cover of the dark, landed at the old town, about three leagues to the west of the more modern city. they obtained easy access to the place, and surprised the governor in his bed. the drowsy sentinels once overpowered, the small fortress with its twelve guns was in the possession of their men. at every corner pickets were placed. the surprise was so complete, that when the tocsin rang at daybreak, the watchmen being alarmed at some musket shots they heard, they found the town already bound hand and foot. at the first clang of the bell, the garrison rushed out of their barracks, and ranged themselves under their colours, but saw the french already in arms at the head of all the principal streets. they were surrounded and helpless. when the day broke, nobody dare show themselves, for all those who ran out armed were instantly struck down. sentinels were placed at every door in the principal streets, a barrel of powder with the lid off by their sides, ready to fire the train that connected one with the other at the least signal of danger. we believe it was on this occasion that van horn forced a monk into the cathedral, who preached to the people on the vanity of worldly riches, and the necessity of abandoning them to the spoiler. the buccaneers then drove all the spaniards into their houses, and forced the women and children into the churches. here they remained, crowded together, weeping and hungry, for three days, while their enemies collected the booty. the buccaneers, now safe, abandoned themselves, as usual, to debauchery and gluttony--some dying from immoderate gluttony. fortunately for this wretched people, the bishop of the town, happening to be near vera cruz at the time, began to treat for their ransom. it was fixed at two million piastres, of which a part was paid the very same day--the buccaneers only dispensing with the remaining million, as the vice-royal was already approaching the town at the head of a large force. dangers were now hemming in the dutchman and his band. about eleven o'clock in the morning, the look-out on the tower of st. catherine's reported that a fleet of fourteen sail was approaching the city. the buccaneers, alarmed, sprang to arms. aghast at this intelligence, the french, dreading to be shut in between two fires, decided upon an immediate retreat. the townspeople, terrified at the prospect of being massacred by their infuriated and despairing enemies, were as apprehensive of danger as the buccaneers themselves. van horn embarked with speed all the plate and cochineal, and the more valuable and portable of the spoil, and waited eagerly for the ransom which was now almost in sight. it, however, never arrived, for the drivers of the mules, hearing the firing, halted till the fleet came within sight. the buccaneers had no time to lose, and compensated themselves by carrying off , slaves to their vessels, which lay moored at some leagues' distance, at grijaluc, a place of safety. they spent the night in great disorder, in continual apprehension of being attacked by the spanish fleet, which was, at the same time, congratulating itself on reaching vera cruz unharmed. the danger of the buccaneers was indeed not yet removed, for they had neither water nor sufficient provisions, and some , prisoners were on board. about these hostages the leaders differed in opinion, and words ran high. the two chiefs fought, and van horn received a sword thrust in the arm from de graff. the several crews took up their captains' quarrels, and would have come to blows, had not de graff divided the prey, and at once set sail. van horn followed, but died on the passage, a gangrene having formed upon a wound at first very slight. he was devotedly beloved by his men, says charlevoix, though he was in the habit of cutting down any sailor whom he saw flinch at his guns. he left his frigate with his dying breath to grammont, who reached st. domingo, after dreadful sufferings, having lost three-fourths of his prisoners by famine--his patache being cast away and taken by the spaniards. de graff's vessel was also wrecked, but the crew made their way one by one to st. domingo, where, in spite of the ill reception of the governor, they were welcomed by the hospitality of the inhabitants, who longed to share the treasure of vera cruz. the governor, m. de franquesnoy, without fortress or garrison, and exposed to the inroads of the spaniards, could make no resistance to these wild refugees, who, on one occasion, hearing that he intended to seize upon part of the vera cruz booty, surrounded his house to the number of men, and threatened his life. at this time, a general outbreak of the french was expected. it was in the very next year that the governor of carthagena, hearing that michael le basque and jonqué were cruising near his port, sent two vessels against them, one of guns and men, and the other of guns and men, with a small bark as a decoy. the buccaneer chiefs each commanded a vessel of guns and men. they both grappled the spaniards, held them for an hour and a-half, swept their decks with musketry, tortured them with hand grenades and missiles, and eventually bore them off in triumph. all the spaniards who were not killed were put on shore with a note to the governor, thanking him for having sent them two such good vessels, as their own had long been unfit for service. they, moreover, promised to wait fifteen days off carthagena for any other vessel he might wish to get rid of, provided he would send money in them, of which they were in great need. end of vol. ii. london: sercombe and jack, great windmill street. public domain material generously made available by the google books library project (http://books.google.com/) note: project gutenberg has the other two volumes of this work. volume ii: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ volume iii: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ images of the original pages are available through the the google books library project. see http://books.google.com/books?vid=pcycaaaayaaj&id the monarchs of the main; or, adventures of the buccaneers. by george w. thornbury, esq. "one foot on sea and one on shore, to one thing constant never." much ado about nothing. in three volumes. vol. i. london: hurst and blackett, publishers, successors to henry colburn, , great marlborough street. . london: sercombe and jack, great windmill street. contents of vol. i. chapter i.--the precursors of the buccaneers. history of tortuga--description of the island--origin of the buccaneers--conquest of tortuga by the french and english--hunters, planters, and corsairs--le basque takes maracaibo--war with the spaniards of hispaniola--the french west indian company buy tortuga--their various governors chapter ii.--manners of the hunters. indian derivation of the word buccaneer--flibustier--the three classes--dress of the hunters--west indian scenery--method of hunting--wild dogs--anecdotes--wild oxen--wild boars and wild horses--buccaneer dainties--cow-killing, english, french, and spanish methods--amusements--duels--adventures--conflicts with the fifties, or spanish militia--the hunters driven to sea--turn corsairs--the hunters' _engagés_, or apprentices--hide curing--hardships of the bush life--the planters' _engagés_--cruelties of planters--the _matelotage_--huts, manners, and food chapter iii.--the flibustiers, or sea rovers. originated in the spanish persecution of french hunters--customs--"no peace beyond the line"--"no prey, no pay"--pay and pensions--their helots the mosquito indians--lewis scott, an englishman, the first corsair--john davis takes st. francis in campeachy--their debauchery--gambling--religion--classes from which they sprang--equality at sea--mode of fighting--food--dress chapter iv.--pierre-le-grand, the first buccaneer. plunder of segovia--pierre-le-grand--peter francis--captures of spanish vessels--mode of capture--barthelemy portugese--his escapes and victories--roche the brazilian--fanatical hatred of the spaniards--his wrecks and adventures chapter v.--lolonnois the cruel. lolonnois' stratagems--his cruelty--his partner, michael le basque--takes maracaibo--tortures the citizens--sacks the town--takes gibraltar--attempt on merida--famine and pestilence--retreat--division of spoil--ransom--takes st. pedro--burns veragua--wrecked in the gulf of honduras--attacked by indians--killed and eaten by the savages chapter vi.--alexandre bras de fer, and montbars the exterminator. bras de fer compared by french writers to alexander the great--his exploits and stratagems--montbars--anecdote of his childhood--goes to sea--his first naval engagement--joins the buccaneers--defeats the spanish fifties--his uncle killed--his revenge--anecdote of the negro vessel--adam and anne le roux plunder santiago preface. i claim for this book, at least originality. but this originality, unfortunately, if it attaches interest to an author's labours, adds also to his responsibilities. the history of the buccaneers has hitherto remained unwritten. three or four forgotten volumes contain literally all that is recorded of the wars and conquests of these extraordinary men. of these volumes two are french, one dutch, and one in english. the majority of our readers, therefore, it is probable, know nothing more of the freebooters but their name, confound them with the mere pirates of two centuries later, and derive their knowledge of their manners from those dozen lines of the abbé reynal, that have been transferred from historian to historian, and from writer to writer, for the last two centuries. the chief records of buccaneer adventurers are drawn literally from only three books. the first of these is _oexmelin's histoire des aventuriers_. mo. paris, . oexmelin was a frenchman, who went out to st. domingo as a planter's apprentice or _engagé_, and eventually became surgeon in the buccaneer fleet--knew lolonnois, and accompanied sir henry morgan to panama. the second is _esquemeling's zee roovers_. amsterdam. to. .--a book constantly mistaken by booksellers and in catalogues for oexmelin. esquemeling was a dutch _engagé_ at st. domingo, and his book is an english translation from the dutch. the writer appears of humbler birth than oexmelin, but served also at panama. the third is _ringrose's history of the cruises of sharpe, &c._ this man, who served with dampier, seems to have been an ignorant sailor, and a mere log-keeper. the fourth is _ravenau de lussan's narrative_. de lussan was a young french officer of fortune, who served in some of ringrose's cruises. this is a book written by a vivacious and keen observer, but is less complete than oexmelin's, but equally full of anecdote, and very amusing. for secondary authorities we come to the french jesuit historians of the west indian islands, diffuse rochefort, the gossiping _bon vivant_ labat; tertre, dry and prejudiced; charlevoix, careful, condensed, and entertaining; and raynal, polished, classical, second-hand, and declamatory. the english secondaries are, dampier, with his companions, wafer and cowley. several old pamphlets contain quaint versions of morgan's conquest of panama; and in , burney, in his "history of discoveries in the south sea," devotes many chapters to a dry but very imperfect abridgment of buccaneer adventure, omitting carefully everything that gives either life or colour. captain southey, in his "history of the west indies," supplies many odd scraps of old voyages, and presents many scattered figures, but attempts no picture. nor has modern fiction, however short of material, discovered these new and virgin mines. mrs. hall has a novel, it is true, called _the buccaneer_, the scene of which is, however, laid in england; and angus b. reach has skimmed the same subject, but has evidently not even read half the three existing authorities. dana, the american poet, has a poem called the buccaneer, but this is merely a collection of lines on the sea. sir walter scott's bertram, although he had been a buccaneer, is a mere ruffian, who would do for any age, and scott himself places morgan's conquest of panama in the reign of charles i., when it actually took place in that of charles ii., fifty years later. defoe himself, little conscious of the rich region he was treading, sketched a buccaneer sailor when he re-christened alexander selkirk robinson crusoe, and condensed all the spirit of dampier into a book still read as eagerly by the man as by the boy. when i find a writer of scott's profundity of reading and depth of research placing the great event of buccaneer history fifty years before its time, booksellers mistaking a dutch for a french writer, and living historians confounding the flibustiers of tortuga, who attacked only the spaniards, with their degraded successors the pirates of new providence, who robbed all nations and even their own without mercy, i think i have proved that my book is not a superfluity. it is seldom that an author can invite the whole reading world to peruse the self-rewarding labour of his student life. mine is no book for a sect, a clique, a profession, or a trade. it brings new scenes and new creations to the novel reader, jaded with worn-out types of conventional existence. it supplies the historian with a page of english, french, and spanish history that the capricious muse of history has hitherto kept in ms. it traces the foundation of our colonial empire. to the psychologist it furnishes deep matter for thought, while the philosopher may see in these pages humanity in a new aspect, and man's soul exposed to new temptations. what dampier has described and defoe drawn materials from, no man can dare to assert is wanting in interest. the readers to whom these books are new will be astonished to find the adventures of xenophon paralleled in de lussan's retreat over the isthmus, and swift forestalled in his conception of some of the oddest customs of lilliput. oexmelin, i may boldly assert, is a much more amusing writer than half our historians, a keen and enlightened observer, who looked upon buccaneering as a chivalrous life, in which the sea knight got equally hard knocks as the land hero, but more money. if my characters are not so grand as those of history, i can present to my reader men as greedy of gold, ambitious and sagacious as pizarro or cortes, and as reckless as alexander, and as cruel as cæsar. if the buccaneers were but insects, bred from the putrefactions of a decaying empire, their plans were at least gigantic, and their courage unprecedented. anomalous beings, hunters by land and sea, scaring whole fleets with a few canoes, sacking cities with a few grenadiers, devastating every coast from california to cape horn, they only needed a common principle of union to have founded an aggressive republic, as wealthy as venice and as warlike as carthage. one great mind and the new world had been their own. but from the first providence sowed amongst them the seeds of discord--difference of religion and difference of race. never settling, their race had its ranks renewed, not by descendants, but by fresh recruits, men with new interests and lower aims. in less than a century the brotherhood had passed away, their virtues were forgotten and their vices alone remembered. the buccaneers were robbers, yet they sought something beyond gold. mansvelt took the island of st. catherine, and planned a republic, and morgan contemplated the destruction of the bravo indians. they were outlaws, and yet religious robbers, yet generous and regardful of the minutest delicacies of honour; lovers of freedom, yet obeying the sternest discipline; cruel, yet tender to their friends. all the light and shade of the darkest fiction look poor beside the adventures of these men. catholics, protestants, puritans, gallants, officers, common seamen, farmers' sons, men of rank, hunters, sailors, planters, murderers, fanatics, creoles, spaniards, negroes, astrologers, monks, pilots, guides, merchants--all pass before us in a motley and ever-changing masquerade. the backgrounds to these scenes are the wooded shores of the west indian islands, woods sparkling at night with fire-flies, broad savannahs dark with wild cattle, the volcanic islands peopled by marooned sailors, stormy promontories, the lonely sand "keys" of jamaica, and the rocky fastnesses of tortuga. monarchs of the main. chapter i. history of tortuga. the precursors of the buccaneers--description of tortuga--origin of the buccaneers--conquest of tortuga by the french--the hunters, planters, and corsairs--le basque takes maracaibo--war in hispaniola--french west indian company buy tortuga--the governor, m. d'ogeron. drake, cavendish, and oxenham, indeed all the naval heroes of elizabeth's reign, were the precursors of the buccaneers. the captains of those "tall ships" that sailed from plymouth sound, and the green nooks of the sunny coast of devon, to capture stately carracks laden deep with silks, spices, pearls, and precious stones, the treasure of potosi and peru, were but buccaneers under another name, agreeing with them in the great principle of making war on none but spaniards, but on spaniards unceasingly. "no peace beyond the line" was the motto on the flag of both drake and morgan. sir john hawkins, who began the slave trade, and who was drake's earliest patron, took the town of rio de la hacha, and struggled desperately with the galleons in the port of st. juan d'ulloa. drake sacked nombre de dios, and, passing across the isthmus, stormed vera cruz. he destroyed st. domingo and carthagena, burnt la rancheria, and attacked porto rico. but still more truly a buccaneer was john oxenham, one of drake's followers, who, cruising about panama, captured several bullion vessels; but was at last slain, with all his men, having fallen in love with a spanish captive, and liberated her son, who surprised him with reinforcements from nombre de dios. then came raleigh, more chivalrous than them all--looser in principle, but wiser in head. he planned an attack on panama, and ravaged st. thomas's. the first buccaneers were poor french hunters, who, driven by the spaniards out of hispaniola, fled to the neighbouring island of tortuga, and there settled as planters. this buccaneer colony of tortuga arose rather by accident than by the design of any one ambitious mind. the french had established a colony in the almost deserted island of st. christopher's, which had begun to flourish when the spaniards, alarmed at a hostile power's vicinity to their mines, to which their thoughts then alone tended, put a stop to the prosperity of the french settlements by frequent attacks made by their fleets on their way to new spain. from the just hatred excited by these unprovoked forays sprang the first impulse of retaliation. these injuries provoked the french, as they had done the dutch, to fit out privateers. but a still more powerful motive soon became paramount. a spirit of cupidity arose, which was stimulated by the heated imaginations of men poor and angry. before them lay regions of gold, timidly guarded by a vindictive but feeble enemy; and spain became to these pioneer settlers what a bedridden miser is to the dreams of a needy bravo. the report of the dutch successes spread through all the ports of france. sailors were the ready bearers of wild tales they had themselves half invented. some hardy adventurers of dieppe fitted out vessels to carry on a warfare that retaliation had now rendered just, war made legal, and chance rendered profitable. the sailor who was to-day munching his onion on the quays of marseilles might, a few weeks hence, be lord of carthagena, or rolling in the treasures of a manilla galleon, clothed in eastern silks, and delighted with the perfumes of india. finding their enterprise successful, but st. kitt's too distant to form a convenient depôt for their booty, they began to look about for some nearer locality. at first they found their return voyages to the west indian islands frequently occupying three months, which seemed years to men hurrying to store up old plunder, and to sally forth for new. in search of an asylum, these privateersmen touched at hispaniola, hoping to find some lonely island near its shores; but as soon as they had landed, and saw the great forests full of game, and broad savannahs alive with wild cattle, and finding it abandoned by the spaniards, and the indians nearly all dead or emigrated, they determined to settle at a place so full of advantages, where they could revictual their ships, and remain secure and unobserved. the sight of tortuga, a small neighbouring island, rocky, and yet not without a harbour, convinced them that nature had constructed for their growing empire at once a magazine, a citadel, and a fortress. they had now a sanctuary and a haven, shelter for their booty, and food for their men. the spaniards, although not occupying the island, were anxious that it should not be occupied by others. they had long had a foreboding that this island would become a resort for pirates, and had just garrisoned it with an alfarez and twenty-five men. the french had, however, little difficulty in getting rid of this small force, the soldiers being enraged at finding themselves left by their countrymen, without provisions or reinforcements, upon a barren rock. once masters of the heap of stones, the french began to deliberate by what means they could retain it. the sight of buildings already begun, and the prospect of more food than they could get at st. christopher's, determined these restless men to settle on the spot they had won. part of them returned to hispaniola to kill oxen and boars, and to salt the flesh for those who would remain to plant; and those men who determined to build assured the sailors that stores of dry meat should always be ready to revictual their ships. the adventurers, having a nucleus for their operations, began to widen their operations. they became now divided into three distinct classes, always intermingling, and never very definitely divided, but still for the main part separate: the _sea rovers_, or flibustiers; the _planters_, or habitans; and the _hunters_, or buccaneers. for the first class, there were many names: the english, following an indian word, called them buccaneers, from the indian term _boucan_ (dried meat); the dutch denominated them zee roovers, and the french flibustiers, or aventuriers. a fourth class, growing by degrees either into the buccaneers or the planters, were the apprentices, or _engagés_. a few french planters could not have retained the island had not their numbers been swelled by the addition of many english. in a short time, french vessels touched at the island, to trade for the booty that now arrived more frequently, unintermittingly, and in greater quantities. the trade grew less speculative and uncertain. french captains found it profitable to barter not only for hides and meat with the buccaneers, but with the flibustiers for silver-plate and pieces of eight. the high prices paid for wine and brandy soon rendered the commerce with bordeaux a matter worthy the attention of the french government. in a few days of buccaneer excess more was spent in barter than could have been realised in months of average traffic with the more cautious. the spaniards, fully alive to the danger of this planter settlement, determined to destroy it at a single blow. the design was easy of accomplishment, for the buccaneers had grown careless from long impunity, and had long since crowned themselves undisputed kings of hispaniola and its dependencies. taking advantage of a time when the english corsairs were at sea and the french buccaneers hunting on the mainland, the spanish general of the indian fleet landed with a handful of soldiers and retook the island in an hour. the few planters were overpowered before they could run together, the hunters before they could seize their arms. some were at once put to the sword, and others hung on the nearest trees. the larger portion, however, taking advantage of well-known lurking places, waited for the night, and then escaped to the mainland in their canoes. the spaniards, satisfied with the terror they had struck, left the island un-garrisoned, and returned exultingly to st. domingo. hearing, however, that there were a great many buccaneers still settled as hunters in hispaniola, and that the wild cattle were diminishing by their ravages, the general levied some troops to put them down. to these men, who were known as the spanish _fifties_, we shall hereafter advert. the spanish fleet was scarcely well out of sight before the buccaneers, angry but unintimidated, flocked back to their now desolated island, full of rage at the sight of the bodies of their companions and the ashes of their ruined houses. the english returned headed by a buccaneer named willis, who gave an english character to the new colony. the french adventurers, jealous of english interference, and fearful that the island would fall into the possession of england, left tortuga, and, going to st. christopher's, informed the governor, the chevalier de poncy, of the ease with which it could be conquered. de poncy, alive to the scheme and jealous for french honour, fitted out an expedition, and intrusted the command to m. le vasseur, a brave soldier and good engineer, just arrived from france, who levied a force of forty french protestants, and agreed to conquer the island for de poncy and to govern in his name, as well as to pay half the expenses of the conquest. in a few days he dropped anchor in port margot, on the north side of hispaniola, about seven leagues from tortuga. he instantly collected a force of forty french buccaneers from the woods and the savannahs, and, having arranged his plans, made a descent upon the island in the month of april, . as soon as he had landed, he sent a message to the english governor to say that he had come to avenge the insults received by the french flag, and to warn him that if he did not leave the island with all those of his nation in twenty-four hours, he should lay waste every plantation with fire and sword. the english, feeling their position untenable, instantly embarked in a vessel lying in the road, without (as oexmelin, a french writer, says) striking a blow in self-defence. the french population of the island then, rising in arms, welcomed the invaders as friends. le vasseur, the bloodless conqueror of this new barataria, was received with shouts and acclamations. he at once visited every nook of the island that needed defence, and prepared to insure it against reconquest either by the spaniards or the english. he found it inaccessible on three sides; and on the unprotected quarter built a fort, on a peak of impregnable rock, rising feet above the narrow path which it commanded. the summit of this rock was about thirty feet square, and could only be ascended by steps cut in the stone or by a moveable iron ladder. the fort held four guns. a spring of water completed the advantages of the spot, which was surrounded with walls and fenced in with hedges, woods, precipices, and every aid that art or nature could furnish. the only approach to this steep was a narrow avenue in which no more than three men could march abreast. the buccaneers now flocked to tortuga in greater numbers than before, some to congratulate the new governor on his victory, and others to enrol themselves as his subjects: all who came he received with promises of support and protection. the spaniards, in the meanwhile, determined to crush this wasp's nest, fitted out at st. domingo a new armament of six vessels, having on board or men. they at first anchored before the fort, but, receiving a volley, moored two leagues lower down, and landed their troops. in attempting to storm the fort by a _coup de main_, they were beaten off with the loss of men, the garrison sallying out and driving them back to their ships. the now doubly victorious governor was hailed as the defender and saviour of tortuga. the news of victory soon reached the ears of m. de poncy, at st. christopher's, who, at first rejoiced at the success, became soon afraid of the ambition of his new ally. fearing that he would repudiate the contract, and declare himself an independent sovereign, he took the precaution of testing his sincerity. he sent two of his relations to tortuga to request land as settlers, but really to act as spies. le vasseur, subtle and penetrating, at once detected their object. he received the young men with great civility, but took care to secure their speedy return to st. christopher's. having now attained the summit of his wishes, he became, as many greater men have been, intoxicated with power. his temper changed, and he grew severe, suspicious, intolerant, and despotic. he not only bound his subjects in chains, but delighted to clank the fetters, and remind them of their slavery. he ill-used the planters, loaded the merchants with taxes, punished the most venial faults, and grew as much hated as he had been once beloved. he went so far in his tyranny as to forbid the exercise of the catholic religion, to burn the churches and expel the priests. the murder of such a persecutor has always been held a sin easily forgiven by the confessor, and lust and superstition soon gave birth to murder. charlevoix relates an amusing instance of the governor's contumacy. de poncy, informed that his vessels had taken a silver idol (a virgin mary) from some spanish cathedral, wrote to demand its surrender. le vasseur returned a wooden image by the messenger, desiring him to say, that for religious purposes, wood or silver was equally good. one of his most cruel inventions le vasseur called his "hell." it seems to have resembled the portable iron cages in which louis xi. used to confine his state prisoners. m. de poncy, informed of the extraordinary change in the character of le vasseur, endeavoured to beguile him by promises, threats, and entreaties. justice gave him now a pretext of enforcing what self-interest had long meditated. the toils were growing closer round the doomed man, but heaven sent a speedier punishment. le vasseur, still waiving all openings for formal complaint, was exulting in all the glory of a small satrapy, when two nephews conspired against his life. cupidity inspired the crime, and they easily persuaded themselves that god and man alike demanded the expiation. one writer calls them simply captains, "companions of fortune," and another, the nephews of le vasseur. these ungrateful men had already been declared his heirs, but they had quarrelled with him about a mistress he had taken from them, and one fault in a friend obliterates the remembrance of many virtues. they believed that the inhabitants, rejoiced at deliverance from such tyranny, would appoint them joint governors in the first outburst of their gratitude. they shot him from an ambush as he was descending from the rock fort to the shore, but, only wounding him slightly, were obliged to complete the murder with a poignard. the wounded man called for a priest, and declared himself, with his last breath, a steadfast catholic. he seems to have been a dark, wily man, of strong passions, tenacious ambition, and ungovernable will. while this crime was perpetrating, de poncy, determined to recover possession of at least his share of tortuga, and weary and angry at the subterfuges of le vasseur, had resolved upon a new expedition. the leader was a chevalier de fontenoy, a soldier of fortune, who, attracted by the sparkle of spanish gold, had just arrived at st. kitt's in a french frigate. full of chivalry, he at once proposed to sail, although informed that the place was impregnable, and could only be taken by stratagem. while the armament was fitting up, he made a cruise round carthagena, on the look out for spanish prizes, and joined m. feral, a nephew of the general, at port de paix, a rendezvous twelve leagues from tortuga. informed there of the murder of le vasseur, they at once sailed for the harbour, and landed men at the spot where the spaniards had formerly been repulsed. the two murderers immediately capitulated, on condition of being allowed to depart with all their uncle's treasure. the chevalier was proclaimed governor, and received with as many acclamations as le vasseur had been before him. the old religion was restored, and commerce patronized and protected, by royal edict. two bastions were added to the fort, and more guns mounted. the buccaneers crowded back in greater numbers than even on le vasseur's arrival. before they had only imagined the advantages of this conquest, but now they had tasted them. the chevalier hailed all buccaneers as friends and brothers, and even himself fitted out privateers. the spanish ships could scarcely venture out of port, and one merchant alone is known to have lost , crowns' worth of merchandise in a single year. it is easier to conquer than to retain a conquest, and vigilance grows blunted by success. the chevalier, too confident in his strength, allowed half his population to embark in cruisers. the sick, the aged, the maimed, laboured in the plantations with the slaves. the spaniards, informed of this, landed in force, without resistance. the few buccaneers crowded into the fort, which the enemy dared not approach. discovering, however, a mountain that commanded the rock, precipitous, but still accessible, they determined to plant a battery upon it, and drive the buccaneers from their last foothold. with infinite vigour and determination they hewed a road to the mountain between two rocks. making frames of wood, they lashed on their cannons, and forced the slaves and prisoners to drag them to the summit, and, with a battery of four guns, suddenly opened a fire upon the unguarded fort. the chevalier, not expecting this enterprise, had just deprived himself of his last defence, by cutting down the large trees that grew round the walls. in spite of all the threats and expostulations of the governor, the garrison, galled by this plunging fire, at once capitulated. they left the island in twenty-four hours, with arms and baggage, drums beating, colours flying, and match burning, and set sail in two half-scuttled vessels lying in the road, having first given hostages not to serve against spain for a given time. in another vessel, but alone, set sail the two murderers, who, being short of food, consummated their crimes by leaving the women and children of their company on a desert island. the spanish general, repairing the fort, garrisoned it with sixty men, whom he supplied with provisions. fontenoy, repulsed in an attempt to recover the island, soon afterwards returned to france. in , when admiral penn appeared off st. domingo with cromwell's fleet, the spaniards, to increase their forces in hispaniola, recalled the troop which had held tortuga eighteen months--the commander first blowing up the fort, burning the church, the houses, and the magazines, and devastating the plantations. not long afterwards, an english refugee of wealth, elias ward (or, as the french call him, _elyazouärd_), came from jamaica, with his family and a dozen soldiers, and with an english commission from the general, and was soon joined by about french and english adventurers. the treaty of the pyrenees, in , brought no repose to the hunters of hispaniola from spanish inroads. the planters were compelled to work armed, and to keep watch at night for fear of being murdered in their beds. in the war recommencing, let the bloodhounds, who had long been straining in the leash, free to raven and devour. de lisle again plundered st. jago, and obtained , piastres ransom, each of his adventurers secured crowns, the spaniards abandoning the defiles and carrying off their treasure to conception. this was the golden age of buccaneering. vauclin, ovinet, and tributor, plundered the towns of cumana, coro, st. martha, and nicaragua. le basque, with only forty men, surprised maracaibo by night. he seized the principal inhabitants and shut them in the cathedral, and threatened to instantly cut off their heads if the citizens ventured to rise in arms. daylight discovering his feeble force, he could obtain no ransom. the flibustiers then retreated, each man driving a prisoner before him, a pistol slung in one hand and a naked sabre raised over the spaniard's head in the other. these hostages were detained twenty-four hours, and released at the moment the french departed. this is the same le basque whom charlevoix describes as cutting out the margaret from under the cannon of portobello, and winning a million piastres. at another time, they retreated laden with booty and carrying with them the governor and the principal citizens of st. jago; but the spaniards, rallying, placed themselves, , in number, in an ambuscade by the way, trusting to their numbers and expecting an easy victory. the french, turning well, scarcely missed a shot, and in a short time killed of the enemy's men, and, wounding a great many more, drove them off after two hours' fighting. they rallied and returned in a short time, determined to conquer or die; but the french, showing the prisoners, declared that if a shot was fired by the enemy they would kill them before their eyes, and would then sell their own lives dearly. this menace frightened the spaniards, and the flibustiers continued their retreat unmolested. having waited some time in vain on the coast for the ransom, they left the prisoners unhurt, and returned gaily to tortuga. in , spain, finding that france in secret encouraged the buccaneers of hispaniola, gave orders to exterminate every frenchman in the island, promising recompence to those who distinguished themselves in the war. an old flemish officer, named vandelinof, who had served with distinction in the low country wars, took the command. his first stratagem was to attempt to surprise the chief french boucan, at gonaive, on the brûlé savannah, with men. the hunters, observing them, gave the alarm, and, collecting "brothers," advanced to meet them in a defile where the spanish numbers were of no avail. the fleming was killed at the first volley, and after an obstinate struggle the spaniards fled to the mountains. the enemy, after this defeat, returned to their old and safer plan of night surprises--which frequently succeeded, owing to the negligent watch kept by the buccaneers. the hunters, much harassed by the constant sense of insecurity, began to retire every night to the small islands round st. domingo, and seldom went alone to the chase. some boucans, such as those at the port of samana, grew rapidly into towns. near this excellent harbour the cattle were unusually abundant, and in a few hours the flibustier could carry his hides to his market at tortuga. gradually french and dutch vessels began to visit the port to buy hides and to trade. every morning before starting to the savannah, the hunters climbed the highest hill to see if any spaniards were visible. they then agreed on a rendezvous for the evening, arriving there to the moment. if any one was missing he was at once known to be taken or killed, and no one was permitted to return home till their comerade's death had been avenged. one evening the hunters of samana, missing four of the band, marched towards st. jago, and, discovering from some prisoners that their companions had been massacred, entered a spanish village and slew every one they met. the spaniards too had sometimes their revenge. "the river of massacre" near samana was so called from thirty buccaneers who were slain there while fording the river laden with hides. another band of hunters, led by charles tore, had been hunting at a place called the bois-brûlé savannah, and having completed the number of skins the merchants had contracted for, returned to samana. crossing a savannah they were surprised by an overwhelming force of spaniards, and, in spite of a desperate resistance, slain to a man. the buccaneers, irritated by these losses, began to think of revenge. when the spaniards destroyed the wild cattle, some turned planters about port de paix, others became flibustiers. the death of de poncy threw the french colonies into some disorder, and tortuga was for awhile forgotten both by the home and colonial government. during this interval a gentleman of perigord, named rossy, a retired buccaneer, resolved to resume his old profession. returning to st. domingo, he was hailed as a father by the hunters, who proposed to him to recover tortuga. rossy, knowing that fidelity is the last virtue that forsakes the heart, accepted their proposal with the enthusiasm of a gambler accustomed to such desperate casts. he was soon joined by five hundred refugees, burning for conquest and revenge. they assembled in canoes at a rendezvous in hispaniola, and agreed to land one hundred men on the north side of the island and surprise the mountain fort. the spaniards in the town, not even entrenched, were soon beaten into the fort. the garrison of the rock were rather astonished to be awoke at break of day by a salute from the neighbouring mountain, when they could see the enemy still quietly encamped below. sallying out, they could discern no opponents, but before they could regain the fort were all cut to pieces or made prisoners. the survivors were at once thrust into a boat and sent to cuba, and rossy declared governor. he soon after received a commission from the french king, together with a permission to levy a tax, for the support of his dignity, of a tenth of all prizes brought into tortuga. rossy governed quietly for some years, and eventually retired to his native country to die, and la place, his nephew, reigned in his stead. in , the french west india company became masters of tortuga and the antilles, and appointed m. d'ogeron, a gentleman of anjou who had failed in commerce, as their governor. he proved a good administrator, and built magazines and storehouses for his grateful and attached people. d'ogeron soon established order and prosperity in the island, which became a refuge for the red flag and the terror of the spaniards. he colonised all the north side of hispaniola, from port margot, where he had a house, to the three rivers opposite tortuga. he attracted colonists from the antilles, and brought over women from france, in order to settle his nomadic and mutinous population. in , the west india company, dissatisfied with the profits of their merchandize, resolved to relinquish the colony and call in their debts; and it was in the st. john, sent out for this purpose, that the buccaneer historian oexmelin, whom we shall have frequently to quote, first visited tortuga. d'ogeron, determined not to relinquish a settlement already beginning to flourish, hastened to france, and persuaded some private merchants to continue the trade. they promised to fit out twelve vessels annually, if he would supply them with back freight. he on his part agreed to provide the colonists with slaves and to destroy the wild dogs, which were committing great ravages among the herds of hispaniola. this new company did not answer. the inhabitants suffered by the monopoly, and grew discontented at only being allowed to trade with certain vessels, and being obliged to turn their backs on better bargains or cheaper merchandize. an accident lit the train. m. d'ogeron attempted to prevent their trading with some dutch merchants, and they rose in arms. shots were fired at the governor, and the revolters threatened to burn out the planters who would not join their flag. but succours from the antilles soon brought them to their senses, and, one of their ringleaders being hung, they surrendered at discretion. the governor, alarmed even at an outbreak that he had checked, made in his turn concessions. he permitted all french merchants to trade upon paying a heavy harbour due, and the number of ships soon became too numerous for the limited commerce of the place. m. d'ogeron next procured colonists from brittany and anjou, and eventually, after some further exploits, very daring but always unfortunate, he was succeeded in command by his nephew m. de poncy. there are several tortugas. there is one in the caribbean sea, another near the coast of honduras, a third not far from carthagena, and a fourth in the gulf of california; they all derived their names from their shape, resembling the turtle which throng in these seas. the buccaneer fastness with which we have to do is the tortuga of the north atlantic ocean, a small rocky island about leagues only in circumference, and distant barely six miles from the north coast of hispaniola. this tortuga was to the refugee hunters of the savannahs what new providence became to the pirates, and the galapagos islands to the south sea adventurers of half a century later. it had only one port, the entrance to which formed two channels: on two sides it was iron-bound, and on the other defended by reefs and shoals, less threatening than the cliffs, but not less dangerous. though scantily supplied with spring water--a defect which the natives balanced by a free use of "the water of life"--the interior was very fertile and well wooded. palm and sandal wood trees grew in profusion; sugar, tobacco, aloes, resin, china-root, indigo, cotton, and all sorts of tropical plants were the riches of the planters. the cultivators were already receiving gifts from the earth, which--liberal benefactor--she gave without expecting a return, for the virgin soil needed little seed, care, or nourishment. the island was too small for savannahs, but the tangled brushwood abounded in wild boars. the harbour had a fine sand bottom, was well sheltered from the winds, and was walled in by the coste de fer rocks. round the habitable part of the shore stretched sands, so that it could not be approached but by boats. the town consisted of only a few store-houses and wine shops, and was called the _basse terre_. the other five habitable parts of the island were cayona, the mountain, the middle plantation, the ringot, and mason's point. a seventh, the capsterre, required only water to make it habitable, the land being very fertile. to supply the want of springs, the planters collected the rain water in tanks. the soil of the island was alternately sand and clay, and from the latter they made excellent pottery. the mountains, though rocky, and scarcely covered with soil, were shaded with trees of great size and beauty, the roots of which clung like air plants to the bare rock, and, netting them round, struck here and there deeper anchors into the wider crevices. this timber was so dry and tough that, if it was cut and exposed to the heat of the sun, it would split with a loud noise, and could therefore only be used as fuel. this favoured island boasted all the fruits of the antilles: its tobacco was better than that of any other island; its sugar canes attained an enormous size, and their juice was sweeter than elsewhere; its numerous medicinal plants were exported to heal the diseases of the old world. the only four-footed animal was the wild boar, originally transplanted from hispaniola. as it soon grew scarce, the french governor made it illegal to hunt with dogs, and required the hunter to follow his prey single-handed and on foot. the wood-pigeons were almost the only birds in the island. they came in large flocks at certain periods of the year; oexmelin says that, in two or three hours, without going eighty steps from the road, he killed ninety-five with his own hand. as soon as they eat a certain berry their flesh became bitter as our larks do when they move from the stubbles into the turnips. a gascon visitor, once complaining of their sudden bitterness, was told by a buccaneer as a joke that his servant had forgot to remove the gall. fish abounded round the island, and crabs without nippers; the night fishermen carrying torches of the candle-wood tree. the shell fish was the food of servants and slaves, and was said to be so indigestible as to frequently produce giddiness and temporary blindness; the turtle and manitee, too, formed part of their daily diet. the planters were much tormented by the white and red land-crabs, or tourtourons, which lived in the earth, visited the sea to spawn, and at night gnawed the sugar-canes and the roots of plants. their only venomous reptile was the viper, which they tamed to kill mice; in a wild state, it fed on poultry or pigeons. from the stomach of one oexmelin drew seven pigeons and a large fowl, which had been swallowed about three hours before, and cooked them for his own dinner, verifying the old proverb of "robbing peter to pay paul." in times of scarcity these snakes were eaten for food. besides chameleons and lizards, there were small insects with shells like a snail. these were considered good to eat and very nourishing. when held near the fire, they distilled a red oily liquid useful as a rheumatic liniment. though the scorpions and scolopendrias were not venomous, nature, always just in her compensations, covered the island with poisonous shrubs. the most fatal of these was the noxious mançanilla. it grew as high as a pear tree, had leaves like a wild laurel, and bore fruit like an apple; this fruit was so deadly, that even fish that ate of it, if they did not die, became themselves poisonous, and were known by the blackness of their teeth. the only antidote was olive oil. the indian fishermen used, as a test, to taste the heart of the fish they caught, and if it proved bitter they knew at once that it had been poisoned, and threw it away. the very rain-drops that fell from the leaves were deadly to man and beast, and it was as dangerous to sleep under its shadow as under the upas. the friendly boughs invited the traveller (as vice does man) to rest under their shade; but when he awoke he found himself sick and faint, and covered with feverish sores. new-comers were too frequently tempted by the sight and odour of the fruit, and the only remedy for the rash son of adam was to bind him down, and, in spite of heat and pain, to prevent him drinking for two or three days. the body of the sufferer became at first "red as fire, and his tongue black as ink," then a great torment of thirst and fever came upon him, but slowly passed away. another poisonous shrub resembled the pimento; its berries were used by the indians to rub their eyes, giving them, as they believed, a keener sight, and enabling them to see the fish deeper in the water and to strike them at a greater distance with the harpoon. the root of this bush was a poison, so deadly that the only known antidote for it was its own berries, bruised and drunk in wine. of another plant, oexmelin relates an instance of a negro girl being poisoned by a rejected lover, by merely putting some of its leaves between her toes when asleep. chapter ii. manners of the hunters. derivation of the words buccaneer and flibustier--the three classes--dress of the hunters--west indian scenery--method of hunting--wild dogs--anecdotes--wild oxen, wild boars, and wild horses--buccaneer food--cow killing--spanish method--amusements--duels--adventures with the spanish militia--the hunters driven to sea--the _engagés_, or apprentices--hide curing--hardships of the bush life--the planter's _engagés_--cruelties of planters--the _matelotage_--huts--food. the hunters of the wild cattle in the savannahs of hispaniola were known under the designation of buccaneers as early as the year . they derived this name from _boucan_,[ ] an old indian word which their luckless predecessors, the caribs, gave to the hut in which they smoked the flesh of the oxen killed in hunting, or not unfrequently the limbs of their persecutors the spaniards. they applied the same term, from the poverty of an undeveloped language, to the _barbecue_, or square wooden frame upon which the meat was dried. in course of time this hunters' food became known as _viande boucanée_, and the hunters themselves gradually assumed the name of buccaneers. [ ] charlevoix's "histoire de l'ile espagnole," p. , vol. ii their second title of flibustiers was a mere corruption of the english word freebooters--a german term, imported into england during the low country wars of elizabeth's reign. it has been erroneously traced to the dutch word _flyboat_; but the jesuit traveller, charlevoix, asserts that, in fact, this species of craft derived its title from being first used by the flibustiers, and not from its swiftness. this, however, is evidently a mistake, as drayton and hakluyt use the word; and it seems to be of even earlier standing in the french language. the derivation from the english word freebooter is at once seen when the _s_ in flibu_s_tier becomes lost in pronunciation. in , a party of french colonists, who had failed in an attack on st. christopher's, finding, as we have shown, hispaniola almost deserted by the spaniards, who neglected the antilles to push their conquests on the mainland, landed on the south side and formed a settlement, discovering the woods and the plains to be teeming with wild oxen and wild hogs. the dutch merchants promised to supply them with every necessary, and to receive the hides and tallow that they collected in exchange for lead, powder, and brandy. these first settlers were chiefly normans, and the first trading vessels that visited the coast were from dieppe. the origin of the buccaneers, or hunters, and the flibustiers, or sea rovers, as the dutch called them, was contemporaneous. from the very beginning many grew weary of the chase and became corsairs, at first turning their arms against all nations but their own, but latterly, as strict privateersmen, revenging their injuries only on the spaniards, with whom france was frequently at war, and generally under the authority of regular or forged commissions obtained from the governor of st. domingo or some other french settlement. between the buccaneers and flibustiers no impassable line was drawn; to chase the wild ox or the spaniard was the same to the greater part of the colonists, and on sea or land the hunter's musket was an equally deadly weapon. two years after the french refugees from st. christopher's had landed on the half-deserted shores of hispaniola, the flibustiers seized the small adjoining island of tortuga, attracted by its safe and well-defended harbour, its fertility, and the strength of its natural defences. the french and english colonists of st. christopher's began now to cultivate the small plantations round the harbour, encouraged by the number of french trading vessels that visited it, and by the riches that the flibustiers captured from the spaniards. these vessels brought over young men from france to be bound to the planters for three years as _engagés_, by a contract that legalized the transitory slavery. there were thus at once established four classes of men--_buccaneers_, or hunters; _planters_, or inhabitants; _engagés_, who were apprenticed to either the one or the other; and _sea-rovers_. they governed themselves by a sort of democratic compact--each inhabitant being monarch in his own plantation, and every flibustier king on his own deck. but the latter was not unfrequently deposed by his crew; and the former, if cruel to his _engagés_, was compelled to submit to the french governor's interference. before giving any history of the various revolutions in tortuga, or the wars of the spaniards in hispaniola, we will describe the manners of each of the three classes we have mentioned. and first of the buccaneers, or hunters, of hispaniola. these wild men fed on the bodies of the cattle they killed in hunting, and by selling their hides and tallow obtained money enough to buy the necessaries and even the luxuries of life,--for the gambling table and the debauch. while the flibustiers called each other "brothers of the coast," the buccaneers were included in the generic term "_gens de la côté_," and in time the names of buccaneer and flibustier were used indiscriminately. the hunter's dress consisted of a plain shirt, or blouse (du tertre calls it a sack), belted at the waist with a bit of green hide. it was soon dyed a dull purple with the blood of the wild bull, and was always smeared with grease. "when they returned from the chase to the boucan," says the above-named writer, "you would say that these are the butcher's vilest servants, who have been eight days in the slaughterhouse without washing." as they frequently carried the meat home by cutting a hole in the centre, and thrusting their heads through it, we may imagine the cannibals that they must have looked. they wore drawers, or frequently only tight mocassins, reaching to the knee; their sandals were of bull's hide or hog skin, fastened with leather laces. in oexmelin's _histoire des aventuriers_, the hunter is represented with bare feet, but this could not have been usual, when we remember the danger of chigoes, snakes, and scorpions, not to speak of prickly pear coverts and thorny brakes. from their leather waist belt hung a short, heavy _machete_ or sabre, and an alligator skin case of dutch hunting knives. on their heads they wore a leather skull-cap, shaped like our modern jockey's, with a peak in front. they wore their hair falling wildly on their shoulders, and their huge beards increased the ferocity of their appearance. oexmelin particularly mentions the beard, although no existing engraving of the buccaneer chiefs represents them with this grim ornament. according to charlevoix, some of them wore a shirt, and over this a sort of brewer's apron, or coarse sacking tunic, open at the sides. from this shirt being always stained with blood, perhaps sometimes purposely dipped into it, the abbé reynal supposes that such a shirt was the necessary dress of the buccaneer. oexmelin says that as his vessel approached st. domingo, "a buccaneers' canoe came off with six men at the paddles, whose appearance excited the astonishment of all those on board, who had never before been out of france. they wore a small linen tunic and short drawers, reaching only half down the thigh. it required one to look close to see if the shirt was linen or not, so stained was it with the blood which had dripped from the animals they kill and carry home. all of them had large beards, and carried at their girdle a case of cayman skin, in which were four knives and a bayonet." like the canadian trappers, or, indeed, sportsmen in general, they were peculiarly careful of their muskets, which were made expressly for them in france, the best makers being brachie of dieppe, and gelu of nantes. these guns were about four feet and a half long, and were known everywhere as "buccaneering pieces." the stocks were square and heavy, with a hollow for the shoulder, and they were all made of the same calibre, single barrel, and carrying balls sixteen to the pound. every hunter took with him fifteen or twenty pounds of powder, the best of which came from cherbourg. they kept it in waxed calabashes to secure it from the damp, having no shelter or hut that would keep out the west indian rains. their bullet pouch and powder horn hung on either side, and their small tents they carried, rolled up tight like bandoliers, at their waist, for they slept wherever they halted, and generally in their clothes. we have no room and no colours bright enough to paint the chief features of the indian woods, the cloven cherry, that resembles the arbutus, the cocoa with its purple pods, the red _bois immortel_, the stunted bastard cedar, the logwood with its sweet blossom and hawthorn-like leaf, the cashew with its golden fruit, the oleander, the dock-like yam, and the calabash tree. what hesperian orchards are those where the citron, lemon, and lime cling together, and the pine-apple grows in prickly hedges, soft custard apples hang out their bags of sweetness, and the avocada swings its pears big as pumpkins; where the bread-fruit with its gigantic leaves, the glossy star apple, and the golden shaddock, drop their masses of foliage among the dewy and fresh underwood of plantains, far below the tall and graceful cocoa-nut tree. michael scott depicts with photographic exactness and brilliancy every phase of the west indian day, and enables us to imagine the light and shade that surrounded the strange race of whom we write. at daybreak, the land wind moans and shakes the dew from the feathery palms; the fireflies grow pale, and fade out one after the other, like the stars; the deep croaking of the frog ceases, and the lizards and crickets are silent; the monkeys leave off yelling; the snore of the tree toad and the wild cry of the tiger-cat are no more heard; but fresh sounds arise, and the woods thrill with the voices and clatter of an awaking city; the measured tap of the woodpecker echoes, with the clear, flute-like note of the pavo del monte, the shriek of the macaw, and the chatter of the parroquet; the pigeon moans in the inmost forest, and the gabbling crows croak and scream. at noon, as the breeze continues, and the sun grows vertical, the branches grow alive with gleaming lizards and coloured birds, noisy parrots hop round the wild pine, the cattle retreat beneath the trees for shelter, to browse the cooler grass, and the condouli and passion flowers of all sizes, from a soup plate to a thumb ring, shut their blossoms; the very humming-birds cease to drone and buzz round the orange flowers, and the land-crab is heard rustling among the dry grass. in the swamps the hot mist rises, and the wild fowl flock to the reeds and canes in the muddy lagoons, where the strong smell of musk denotes the lurking alligator; the feathery plumes of the bamboos wave not, and the cotton tree moves not a limb. the rainy season brings far different scenes: then the sky grows suddenly black, the wild ducks fly screaming here and there, the carrion crows are whirled bodingly about the skies, the smaller birds hurry to shelter, the mountain clouds bear down upon the valleys, and a low, rushing sound precedes the rain. the torrents turn brown and earthy, all nature seems to wait the doom with fear. the low murmur of the earthquake is still more impressive, with the distant thunder breaking the deep silence, and the trees bending and groaning though the air is still. besides the rains and the earthquakes, the tornadoes are still more dreadful visitants, when the air in a moment grows full of shivered branches, shattered roofs, and uptorn canes. the great features of the west indian forests are the fireflies and the monkeys. at night, when the wind is rustling in the dry palm leaves, the sparkles of green fire break out among the trees like sparks blown from a thousand torches; the gloom pulses with them as the flame ebbs and flows, and the planters' chambers are filled with these harmless incendiaries. the yell of the monkeys at daybreak has been compared to a devils' holiday, to distant thunder, loose iron bars in a cart in fleet street, bagpipes, and drunken men laughing. to coleridge we are indebted for word pictures of the cabbage tree, and the silk cotton tree with their buttressed trunks; the banyan with its cloistered arcades; the wild plantain with its immense green leaves rent in slips, its thick bunches of fruit, and its scarlet pendent seed; the mangroves, with their branches drooping into the sea; the banana, with its jointed leaves; the fern trees, twenty feet high; the gold canes, in arrowy sheaves; and the feathery palms. nor do we forget the figuera, the bois le sueur, or the wild pine burning like a topaz in a calix of emerald. beneath the broad roof of creepers, from which the oriole hangs its hammock nest, grow, in a wild jungle of beauty, the scarlet cordia, the pink and saffron flower fence, the plumeria, and the white datura. the flying fish glided by us, says h.n. coleridge, speaking of the indian seas, bonitos and albicores played around the bows, dolphins gleamed in our wake, ever and anon a shark, and once a great emerald-coloured whale, kept us company. elsewhere he describes the silver strand, fringed with evergreen drooping mangroves, and the long shrouding avenues of thick leaves that darkly fringe the blue ocean. by the shore grow the dark and stately manchineel, beautiful but noxious, the white wood, and the bristling sea-side grape, with its broad leaves and bunches of pleasant berries. the sea birds skim about the waves, and the red flamingoes stalk around the sandy shoals, while the alligators wallow on the mud banks, and the snowy pelicans hold their councils in solemn stupidity. leaving the sea and the shore we wander on into the interior, for the west indian vegetation has everywhere a common character, and see delighted the forest trees growing on the cliffs, knotted and bound together with luxuriant festoons of evergreen creepers, connecting them in one vast network of leaves and branches, the wild pine sparkling on the huge limbs of the wayside trees, beside it the dagger-like spanish needle, the quilted pimploe, and the maypole aloe shooting its yellow flowered crown twenty feet above the traveller, or amid the dark foliage, twines of purple wreaths or lilac jessamine; and the woods ringing with the song of birds, interrupted at times by strange shrieks or moanings of some tropic wanderer; we see with these the snowy amaryllis, the gorgeous hibiscus with its crown of scarlet, the quivering limes and dark glossy orange bushes; we rest under the green tamarind or listen to the mournful creaking of the sand box tree. the buccaneers went in pairs, every hunter having his _camerade_ or _matelot_ (sailor), as well as his _engagés_. they had seldom any fixed habitation, but pitched their tents where the cattle were to be found, building temporary sheds, thatched with palm leaves, to defend them from the rain and to lodge their stock of hides till they could barter it with the next vessel for wine, brandy, linen, arms, powder, or lead. they would return three leagues from the chase to their huts, laden with meat and skins, and if they ate in the open country it was always with their musket cocked and near at hand for fear of surprise. with their _matelots_ they had everything in common. the chief occupation of these voluntary outlaws was the chase of the wild ox, that of the wild boar being at first a mere amusement, or only followed as the means of procuring a luxurious meal; at a later period, however, many frenchmen lived by hunting the hog, whose flesh they boucaned and sold for exportation, its flavour being superior to that of any other meat. the buccaneers sometimes went in companies of ten or twelve, each man having his indian attendant besides his apprentices. before setting out they arranged a spot for rendezvous in case of attack. if they remained long in one place, they built thatched sheds under which to pitch their tents. they rose at daybreak to start for the chase, leaving one of the band to guard the huts. the masters generally went first and alone (sometimes the worst shot was left in the tent to cook), and the _engagés_ and the dogs followed; one hound, the _venteur_, went in front of all, often leading the hunter through wood and over rock where no path had ever been. when the quarry came in sight the dogs barked round it and kept it at bay till the hunters could come up and fire. they generally aimed at the breast of the bull, or tried to hamstring it as soon as possible. many hunters ran down the wild cattle in the savannah and attacked it with their dogs. if only wounded the ox would rush upon them and gore all he met. but this happened very seldom, for the men were deadly shots, seldom missed their _coup_, and were always sufficiently active, if in danger, to climb the tree from behind which they had fired. the _venteur_ dog had a peculiar short bark by which he summoned the pack to his aid, and as soon as they heard it the _engagés_ rushed to the rescue. when the beast was half flayed, the master took out the largest bone and sucked the hot marrow, which served him for a meal, giving a bit also to the _venteur_, but not to any other dogs, lest they should grow lazy in hunting; but the last lagger in the pack had sometimes a bit thrown him to incite him to greater exertion. he then left the _engagés_ to carry the skin to the boucan, with a few of the best joints, giving the rest to the carrion crows, that soon sniffed out the blood. they continued the chase till each man had killed an ox, and the last returned home, laden like the rest with a hide and a portion of raw meat. by this time the first comer had prepared dinner, roasted some beef, or spitted a whole hog. the tables were soon laid; they consisted of a flat stone, the fallen trunk of a tree, or a root, with no cloth, no napkin, no bread, and no wine; pimento and orange juice were sufficient sauce for hungry men, and a contented mind and a keen appetite never quarrelled with rude cooking. this monotonous life was only varied by a conflict with a wounded bull, or a skirmish with the spaniards. the grand fête days were when the hunter had collected as many hides as he had contracted to supply the merchant, and carried them to tortuga, to cape tiburon, samana, or st. domingo, probably to return in a week's time, weary of drinking or beggared from the gambling table, tired of civilization, and restless for the chase. the wild cattle of hispaniola--the oxen, hogs, horses, and dogs--were all sprung from the domestic animals originally brought from spain. the dogs were introduced into the island to chase the indians, a cruelty that even the mild columbus practised. esquemeling says, those first conquerors of the new world made use of dogs "to range and search the intricate thicket of woods and forests for those their implacable and unconquerable enemies; thus they forced them to leave their old refuge and submit to the sword, seeing no milder usage would do it. hereupon they killed some of them, and, quartering their bodies, placed them on the highways, that others might take a warning from such a punishment. but this severity proved of ill consequence, for, instead of frighting them and reducing them to civility, they conceived such horror of the spaniards that they resolved to detest and fly their sight for ever; hence the greatest part died in caves and subterraneous places of the woods and mountains, in which places i myself have often seen great numbers of human bones. the spaniards, finding no more indians to appear about the woods, turned away a great number of dogs they had in their houses; and they, finding no masters to keep them, betook themselves to the woods and fields to hunt for food to preserve their lives, and by degrees grew wild." the young of these maroon dogs the hunters were in the habit of bringing up. when they found a wild bitch with whelps, they generally took away the puppies and brought them to their tents, preferring them to any other sort of dog. they seem to have been between a greyhound and a mastiff. the dutch writer whom we have just quoted mentions the singular fact, that these dogs, even in a wild state, retained their acquired habits. the _venteur_ always led the way, and was allowed to dip the first fangs into the victim. the wild dogs went in packs of fifty or eighty, and were so fierce that they would not scruple to attack a whole herd of wild boars, bringing down two or three at once. they destroyed a vast number of wild cattle, devouring the young as soon as a mare had foaled or a cow calved. "one day," says esquemeling, "a french buccaneer showed me a strange action of this kind. being in the fields hunting together, we heard a great noise of dogs which had surrounded a wild boar. having tame dogs with us we left them in custody of our servants, being desirous to see the sport. hence my companion and i climbed up two several trees, both for security and prospect. the wild boar, all alone, stood against a tree, defending himself with his tusks from a great number of dogs that enclosed him, killed with his teeth and wounded several of them. this bloody fight continued about an hour, the wild boar meanwhile attempting many times to escape. at last flying, one dog leaped upon his back; and the rest of the dogs, perceiving the courage of their companion, fastened likewise on the boar, and presently killed him. this done, all of them, the first only excepted, laid themselves down upon the ground about the prey, and there peaceably continued till he, the first and most courageous of the troop, had eaten as much as he could. when this dog had left off, all the rest fell in to take their share till nothing was left." in , the governor of tortuga, finding these dogs were rendering the wild boar almost extinct, and alarmed lest the hunters should leave a place where food was growing scarce, sent to france for poison to destroy these mastiffs, and placed poisoned horse flesh in the woods. but although this practice was continued for six months, and an incredible number were killed, yet the race soon appeared almost as numerous as before. the wild horses went in troops of about two or three hundred. they were awkward and mis-shapen, small and short-bodied, with large heads, long necks, trailing ears, and thick legs. they had always a leader, and when they met a hunter, stared at him till he approached within shot, then gallopped off all together. they were only killed for their skins, though their flesh was sometimes smoked for the use of the sailors. these horses were caught by stretching nooses along their tracks, in which they got entangled by the neck. when taken, they were quickly tamed by being kept two or three days without food, and were then used to carry hides. they were good workers, but easily lamed. when a buccaneer turned them adrift from want of food to keep them through the winter, they were known to return ten months after, or, meeting them in the savannah, begin to whine and caress their old masters, and suffer themselves to be recaptured. they were also killed for the sake of the fat about the neck and belly, which the hunters used for lamp oil. the wild oxen were tame unless wounded, and their hides were generally from eleven to thirteen feet long. they were very strong and very swift, in spite of their short and slender legs. in the course of a single century from their introduction, they had so increased, that the french buccaneers, when they landed, seldom went in search of them, but waited for them near the shore, at the salt pools where they came to drink. the herds fed at night on the savannahs, and at noon retired to the shelter of the forests. a wounded bull would often blockade, for four hours, a tree in which a hunter had taken refuge, bellowing round the trunk and ploughing at the roots with his horns. the french hunters generally shot them; but the spanish "hocksers" rode them down on horseback, and hamstrung them with a crescent-shaped spear, in form something like a cheese-knife with a long handle. the wild boars, when much pressed, adopted the same military stratagem as the oxen. they threw themselves into the form of a hollow square, the sows in the rear and the sucking pigs in the middle, the white sabre tusks of the boars gleaming outwards towards the foe. the dogs always fastened upon the defenceless sow in preference to the ferocious male, whom they seldom attacked if it got at bay under a tree, though it might be alone, glaring before the red jaws of eighty yelping dogs. the wild boar hunting was less dangerous than that of the wild oxen, and less profitable. the hogs soon grew scarce, a party of hunters sometimes killing in a day, and only carrying home three or four of the fattest. it was not uncommon for solitary hunters or _engagés_ who had lost their way in the woods to amuse themselves by training up the young hogs they found basking under the trees, and teaching them to track their own species and pull them down by tugging at their long leathery ears. oexmelin, the most intelligent of the few buccaneer writers, relates his own success in training four pigs, whom he taught to follow at his heels like dogs, to play with him, and obey his orders. when they saw a herd of boars they would run forward and decoy them towards him. on one occasion, one of them escaped into the plains, but returned three days after, very complacently heading a herd of hogs, of which his master and his _matelot_ killed four. it is not many years since that an english gamekeeper brought up a pig to get his own bread as a pointer. at first, when the green savannahs were spotted black with cattle, the hunters were so fastidious that they seldom ate anything but the udders of cows, considering bull meat too tough. many a herd was killed, as at present in australia or california, for the hide and tallow. if the first animal killed in the day's hunt was a cow, an _engagé_ was instantly sent to the tent with part of the flesh to cook for the evening. when the _engagés_ had each gone home with his joint and his hide, the buccaneer followed with his own load, his dogs, tired and panting, lagging at his heels. if on his way back he met a boar, or more oxen, he threw down his fardel, slew a fresh victim, and, flaying it, hung the hide on a tree out of reach of the wild dogs, and came back for it on the morrow. on returning to the boucan, each man set to work to stretch (_brochéter_) his hide, fastening it tightly out with fourteen wooden pegs, and rubbing it with ashes and salt mixed together to make it dry quicker. when this was done, they sat down to partake of the food that the first comer had by this time cooked. the beef they generally boiled in the large cauldron which every hunter possessed, drawing it out when it was done with a wooden skewer. a board served them for a dish. with a wooden spoon they collected the gravy in a calabash; and into this they squeezed the juice of a fresh picked lemon, a crushed citron, or a little pimento, which formed the hunter's favourite sauce, _pimentado_. this being done with all the care of a ude, they seized their hunting knives and wooden skewers, and commenced a solemn attack upon the ponderous joint. the residue they divided among their dogs. père labat, an oily jesuit if we trust to his portrait, describes, with great gusto, a buccaneer feast at which he was present, and at which a hog was roasted whole. the boucaned meat was used in voyages, or when no oxen could be met with. when they wanted to boucan a pig, they first flayed it and took out all the bones. the meat they cut in long slips, which they placed in mats, and there left it till the next day, when they proceeded to smoke it. the boucan was a small hut covered close with palm-mats, with a low entrance, and no chimney or windows: it contained a wooden framework seven or eight feet high, on which the meat was placed, and underneath which a charcoal fire was lit. the fire they always fed with the animal's own skin and bones, which made the smoke thick and full of ammonia. the volatile salt of the bones being more readily absorbed by the meat than the mere ligneous acid of wood, the result of this process was an epicurean mouthful far superior to our westphalia hams, and more like our hung beef. oexmelin waxes quite eloquent in its praise. he says it was so exquisite that it needed no cooking; its very look, red as a rose, not to mention its delightful fragrance, tempted the worst appetite to eat it, whatever it might be. the only misfortune was that six months after smoking, the meat grew tasteless and unfit for use; but when fresh, it was thought so wholesome that sick men came from a distance to live in a hunter's tent and share his food for a time. the first thing that passengers visiting the west indies saw was a buccaneers' canoe bringing dry meat for sale. the boucaned meat was sold in bales of sixty pounds' weight, and their pots of tallow were worth about six pieces of eight. labat--no ordinary lover of good cheer, if we may judge from his portrait, which represents him with cheeks as plump as a pulpit cushion, and with fat rolls of double chin--describes the buccaneer fare with much unction, having gone to a hunter's feast,--a corporeal treat intended as a slight return for much spiritual food. each buccaneer, he says, had two skewers, made of clean peeled wood, one having two spikes. the boucan itself was made of four stakes as thick as a man's arm, and about four feet long, struck in the ground to form a square five feet long and three feet across. on these forked sticks they placed cross bars, and upon these the spit, binding them all with withes. the wild boar, being skinned and gutted, was placed whole upon this spit, the stomach kept open with a stick. the fire was made of charcoal, and put on with bark shovels. the interior of the pig was filled with citron juice, salt, crushed pimento, and pepper; and the flesh was constantly pricked, so that this juice might penetrate. when the meat was ready, the cooks fired off a musket twice, to summon the hunters from the woods, while banana leaves were placed round for plates. if the hunters brought home any birds, they at once picked them and threw them into the stomach of the pig, as into a pot. if the hunters were novices, and brought home nothing, they were sent out again to seek it; if they were veterans, they were compelled to drink as many cups as the best hunter had that day killed deer, bulls, or boars. a leaf served to hold the pimento sauce, and a calabash to drink from, while bananas were their substitute for bread. the _engagés_ waited on their masters, and one of the penalties for clumsy serving was to be compelled to drink off a calabash full of sauce. the english "cow killers" and the french hunters were satisfied with getting as many hides as they could in the shortest possible time, but the spanish _matadores_ gave the trade an air of chivalrous adventure by rivalling the feats of the moorish bull-fighters of granada. they did not use firearms, but carried lances with a half-moon blade, employing dogs, and, being generally men of wealth and planters, had servants on foot to encourage them to the attack. when they tracked an ox in the woods, they made the hounds drive him out into the prairie, where the matadors could spur after him, and, wheeling round the monster, hamstring him or thrust him through with a lance. dampierre describes minutely the spanish mode of hocksing. the horses were trained to retreat and advance without even a signal. the hocksing-iron, of a half-moon shape, measuring six inches horizontally, resembled in form a gardener's turf-cutter. the handle, some fourteen feet long, was held like a lance over the horse's head, a matador's steed being always known by its right ear being bent down with the weight of the shaft. the place to strike the bull was just above the hock; when struck the horse instantly wheeled to the left, to avoid the charge of the wounded ox, who soon broke his nearly severed leg, but still limped forward to avenge himself on his formidable enemy. then the hockser, riding softly up, struck him with his iron again, but this time into a fore leg, and at once laid him prostrate, moaning in terror and in pain. then, dismounting, the spaniard took a sharp dagger and stabbed the beast behind the horns, severing the spinal marrow. this operation the english called "polling." the hunter at once remounted, and left his skinners to remove the hide. the stately spaniard delighted in this dangerous chase, with all its stratagems, surprises, and hair-breadth escapes, when life depended on a turn of the bridle or the prick of a spur. however pressed for food or endangered by enemies, he practised it with all the stately ceremonies of the madrid arena. the fiery animal, streaming with blood and foam, bellowing with rage and pain, frequently trampled and gored the dogs and slew both horse and rider. oexmelin mentions a bull at cuba which killed three horses in the same day, the lucky rider making a solemn pilgrimage to the shrine of our lady of guadaloupe when he had given his victim the _coup de grace_. these spanish hunters did not rough it like the buccaneers, and kept horses to carry their bales. they were particular in their food, and ate bread and cassava with their beef; drank wine and brandy; and were very choice in their fruit and preserves. gay in their dress, they prided themselves on their white linen. every separate hunting field had its own customs. at campeachy, where the ground was swampy, the logwood-cutters frequently shot the oxen from a canoe, and were sometimes pursued by a wounded beast, who would try to sink the boat. when the woodmen killed a bull, they cut it into quarters, and, taking out all the bones, cut a hole in the centre of each piece large enough to pass their heads through, and trudged home with it to their tents on the shore. if they grew tired or were pursued, they cut off a portion of the meat and lightened their load. the spaniards, less poor, greedy, and thoughtless than the english and french adventurers, killed only the bulls and old cows, and left the younger ones to breed. the french were notorious for their wanton waste, using oxen merely as marks for their bullets, and as utterly indifferent to the future as autolycus, who "slept out the thought of it." about the wild cattle of jamaica were entirely destroyed, and the governor procured a fresh supply from cuba. whenever the oxen grew scarce, they became wilder and more ferocious. in some places no hunter dared to fire at them if alone, nor ever ventured into their pastures unattended. all animals grow shy if frequently pursued, and no fish are so unapproachable as those of a much frequented stream. dampierre says that at beef island the old bulls who had once been wounded, when they saw the hunters or heard their muskets, would instantly form into a square, with their cows in the rear and the calves in the middle, turning as the hunters turned, and presenting their horns like a cluster of bayonets. it then became necessary to beat the woods for stragglers. a beast mortally wounded always made at the hunter; but if only grazed by the bullet it ran away. a cow was thought to be more dangerous than a bull, as the former charged with its eyes open, and the latter with them closed. the danger was often imminent. one of dampierre's messmates ventured into the savannah, about a mile from the huts, and coming within shot of a bull wounded it desperately. the bull, however, had strength enough to pursue and overtake the logwood-cutter before he could load again, to trample him, and gore him in the thigh. then, faint with loss of blood, it reeled down dead, and fell heavily beside the bleeding and groaning hunter. his comerade, coming the next morning to seek for the man, found him weak and almost dying, and, taking him on his back, bore him to his hut, where he was soon cured. the rapidity of such cures is peculiar to savages, or men who devote their whole life to muscular exertion; for the flesh of the south sea islanders is said to close upon a sword as india-rubber does upon the knife that cuts it. often, in the heat and excitement of these pursuits, the solitary hunter, and still more often, from want of experience and from youthful rashness, the _engagé_, would lose his way in the woods, or, falling into a forest pool, become a prey of the lurking cayman, if not alarmed by the premonitory odour of musk that indicated its dangerous vicinity. nature is full of these warnings: and the vibrating rattle of the indian snake has saved the life of many a buccaneer. besides an unceasing supply of beef on shore, and salted turtle at sea, the buccaneers ate the flesh of deer and of peccavy. on the mainland wild turkeys were always within shot, and fat monkeys and plump parrots were resources for more hungry and less epicurean men. the rich fruits of the west indies, needing no cultivation to improve their flavour, grew around their huts, and were to be had all the year round for the picking. the parched hunters delighted in the resinous-flavoured mango and the luscious guava as much as our modern sailors. in such a country every one is a vegetarian; for when dinner is over, to be a fruit eater needs no hermit-like asceticism. the plantain and the yam served them instead of the bread-fruit of the pacific, or the potato of virginia, and the custard-apple took the place of pastry; but the great dainty which all their chroniclers mention was the large avocado pear, which they supposed to be an aphrodisiac. this prodigious lemon-coloured fruit was allowed to mellow, its soft pulp was then scooped out and beaten up in a plate with orange and lime juice; but hungry and more impatient men ate it at once, with a little salt and a roast plantain. a buccaneer never touched an unknown fruit till he had seen birds pecking it on the tree. no bird was ever seen to touch the blooming but poisonous apples of the manchineel, which few animals but crabs could eat with impunity; as this tree grew by the sea-shore, even fish were rendered poisonous by feeding on the fruit that fell into the water. the verified stories of the manchineel excel the fables related of the upas of batavia. the very dew upon its branches poisoned those upon whom it dropped. esquemeling says: "one day, being hugely tormented with mosquitoes or gnats, and being as yet unacquainted with the nature of this tree, i cut a branch to serve me for a fan, but all my face was swelled the next day, and filled with blisters as if it were burnt, to such a degree that i was blind for three days." the hunters tormented by mosquitoes and sand flies used leafy branches for fans, and anointed their faces with hog's grease to defend themselves from the stings. by night in their huts they burned tobacco, without which smoke they could not have obtained sleep. the mosquitoes were of all sorts, the buzzing and the silent, the tormentors by day and night; but they dispersed when the land breeze rose, or whenever the wind increased. the common mosquito was not visible by day, but at sunset filled the woods with its ominous humming. oexmelin describes on one occasion his lying for eight hours in the water of a brook to escape their stings; sitting on a stone or on the sand, and keeping his face, which was above water, covered with leaves to protect him from the fiery stings. the buccaneers made their pens of reeds, and their paper of the leaves of a peculiar sort of palm, the outer cuticle of which was thin, white, and soft; their ink was the black juice of the juniper berries, letters written with which turned white in nine days. they kept harmless snakes in their houses to feed on the rats and mice, just as we do cats, or the copts did the ichneumons. they frequently used a handful of fire-flies instead of a lantern: esquemeling, himself a buccaneer, says, that with three of these in his cottage at midnight he could see to read in any book, however small the print. the buccaneers carried in their tobacco pouches the horn of an immense sort of spider, which esquemeling describes as big as an egg, with feet as long as a crab, and four black teeth like a rabbit, its bite being sharp but not venomous. these teeth or horns they used either as toothpicks or pipe-cleaners; they were supposed to have the property of preserving the user from toothache. they are described as about two inches long, black as jet, smooth as glass, sharp as a thorn, and a little bent at the lower end. their favourite toy, the dice, they cut from the white ivory-like teeth of the sea-horse. great observers of the use of things, and well lessoned in the bitter school of experience, they turned every new natural production they met with to some useful purpose, uniting with the keen sagacity of the hunter the shrewd instinct of the savage. their horsewhips they formed from the skin of the back of a wild bull or sea-cow. the lashes were made of slips of hide, two or three feet long, of the full thickness at the bottom, and cut square and tapering to the point. these thongs they twisted while still green, and then hung them up in a hut to dry; in a few weeks they shrank and became hard as wood, and tough as an american cowhide, an abyssinian scourge, or the far-famed russian knout. from the skin of the manitee they cut straps, which they used in their canoes instead of the ordinary tholes. the wild boar hunters frequently lived in huts four or five together, and remained for months, frequently a year, in the same place, supplying the neighbouring planters by contract. the most perfect equality reigned between the _matelots_; and if one of them wanted powder or lead, he took it from the other's store, telling him of the loan, and repaying it when able. when a dispute arose between any of them, their associates tried to reconcile the difference. a dispute about a shooting wager, or the smallest trifle, might give rise to deadly feuds between such lawless and vindictive exiles, unaccustomed to control, and ready to resort to arms. if both still determined to have revenge, the musket was the impassive arbiter appealed to. the friends of the duellists decided at what distance the combatants should stand, and made them draw lots for the first fire. if one fell dead, the bystanders immediately held a sort of inquest, at which they decided whether he had been fairly dealt with, and examined the body to see that the death-shot had been fairly fired in front, and not in a cowardly or treacherous manner, and handled his musket to see whether it was discharged and had been in good order. a surgeon then opened the orifice of the wound, and if he decided that the bullet had entered behind, or much on one side, they declared the survivor a murderer; lynch law was proclaimed, they tied the culprit to a tree, and shot him with their muskets. in tortuga, or near a town, this rude justice was never resorted to, and, even in the wilder places, was soon abandoned as the hunters grew more civilized. these duels generally took place on the sea beach if the flibustiers were the combatants. as these men took incessant exercise, were indifferent to climate, and fed chiefly on fresh meat, they enjoyed good health. they were, however, subject to flying fevers that passed in a day, and which did not confine them even to their tents. with the spanish lanceros, or fifties as they were called by the buccaneers, the hunters were perpetually at war, their intrepid infantry being generally successful against the hot charges of these yeomanry of the savannahs. there were four companies of them in hispaniola, with a hundred spearmen in each company; half of these were generally on the patrol, while the remainder rested, and from their number they derived their nickname. their duty was to surprise the isolated hunters, to burn the stores of hides, make prisoners of the _engagés_, and guard the spanish settlers against any sudden attack. at other times they were employed in killing off the herds of wild cattle that furnished the buccaneers with food, and drew fresh bands to the plains where they abounded. in great enterprises the whole corps cried "boot and saddle," and they took with them at all times a few muleteers on foot, either to carry their baggage, or to serve as scouts in the woods, where the cow-killers built their huts. but, in spite of negro foragers and indian spies, the keener-eyed buccaneers generally escaped, or, if met with, broke like raging wolves through their adversaries' toils. accustomed to the bush, inured to famine and fatigue, and more indifferent than even the spaniards to climate, the buccaneers were seldom taken prisoners. unerring marksmen, with a spice of the wild beast in their blood, they preferred death to flight or capture. it is probable that even for this toilsome and dangerous pursuit the spaniards easily obtained recruits. constant sport with the wild cattle, abundant food, and a spirit of adventure would prove an irresistible bait to the bravos of carthagena, or the matadors of campeachy. the hangers-on of the wineshops and the pulque drinkers of mexico would readily embark in any campaign that would bring them a few pistoles, and give them good food and gay clothing. oexmelin relates several instances of the daring escapes of the buccaneer hunters from the blood-thirsting pursuit of the fifties. it was their custom, directly that news reached the tents that the lanceros were out, to issue an order that the first man who caught sight of the horsemen should inform the rest, in order to attack the foe by an ambuscade, if they were too numerous to meet in the open field. the great aim, on the other hand, of the lanceros, was to wait for a night of rain and wind, when the sound of their hoofs could not be heard, and to butcher the sleepers when their fire-arms were either damp or piled out of reach. frequently they surrounded the hunters when heavy after a debauch, and when even the sentinels were asleep at the tent doors. the following anecdote conveys some impression of these encounters. a french buccaneer going one day into the savannahs to hunt, followed by his _engagé_, was suddenly surrounded by a troop of shouting lanceros. he saw at once that the fifties had at last trapped him. he was surrounded, and escape from their swift pursuit, with no tree near, was hopeless. but he would not let hope desert him so long as the spears were still out of his heart. his _engagé_ was as brave as himself, and both determined to stand at bay and sell their lives dearly. the hunter of mad oxen, and the tamer of wild horses, need not fear man or devil. the master and man put themselves back to back, and, laying their common stock of powder and bullets in their caps between them, prepared for death. the spaniards, who only carried lances, kept coursing round them, afraid to narrow in, or venture within shot, and crying out to them with threats to surrender. they next offered them quarter, and at last promised to disarm but not hurt them, saying they were only executing the orders of their general. the two frenchmen replied mockingly, that they would never surrender, and wanted no quarter, and that the first lancer who approached would pay dear for his visit. the spaniards still hovered round, afraid to advance, none of them willing to be the first victim, or to play the scapegoat for the rest. "c'est le premier pas qui coute," and the first step they made was backward. after some consultation at a safe distance, they finally left the buccaneers still standing threateningly back to back, and spurred off, half afraid that the tartars they had nearly caught might turn the tables, and advance against them. the steady persistency of the buccaneer infantry was generally victorious over the impetuous but transitory onslaught of the spanish cavalry. another time a wild buccaneer while hunting alone was surprised by a similar party of mounted pikemen. seeing that there was some distance between him and the nearest wood, and that his capture was certain, he bethought himself of the following _ruse_. putting his gun up to his shoulder he advanced at a trot, shouting exultingly, "_à moi, à moi!_" as if he was followed by a band of scattered companions who had been in search of the spaniards. the cavaliers, believing at once that they had fallen into an ambush, took flight, to the joy of the ingenious hunter, who quickly made his escape, laughing, into the neighbouring covert. the spaniards were worn out at last with this border warfare, unprofitable because it was waged with men who were too poor to reward the plunderer, and dangerous because fought with every disadvantage of weapon and situation. in the savannahs the spaniards were formidable, but in the woods they became a certain prey to the musketeer. unable to drive the plunderers out of the island, the spaniards at last foolishly resolved to render the island not worth the plunder. orders came from spain to kill off the wild cattle that columbus had originally brought to the island, and particularly round the coast. if the trade with the french vessels and the barter of hides for brandy could once be arrested, the hunters would be driven from the woods by starvation, or perish one by one in their dens. they little thought that this scheme would succeed, and what would be the consequence of such success. the hunters turned sea crusaders, and the sea became the savannah where they sought their human game. every creek soon thronged with men more deadly than the danish vikinger: wrecked on a habitable shore, they landed as invaders and turned hunters as before; driven to their boats, they became again adventurers. in this name and in that of "soldiers of fortune" they delighted: a more honest and less courteous age would have termed them pirates. by the year , the change from buccaneer to flibustier had been almost wholly effected. the buccaneers' _engagés_ led a life very little better than those white slaves whom the glittering promises of the planters had decoyed from france. the existence of the former was, however, rendered more bearable by their variety of adventure, by better food, and by daily recreation. if all day in the hot sun he had to toil carrying bales of skins from his master's hut towards the shore, we must remember that american seamen still work contentedly at the same labour in california for a sailor's ordinary wages. mutual danger produced necessarily, except in the most brutal, a kind of fellowship between the master and the servant of the boucan. up at daybreak, the _engagé_ sweltered all day through the bush, groaning beneath his burden of loathsome hides, but the good meal came before sunset, and then the pipes were lit, and the brandy went round, and the song was sung, and the tale was told, while the hunters shot at a mark, or made wagers upon the respective skill of their _matelots_ or their _engagés_. we hear from charlevoix, that young prodigals of good family had been known to prefer the canvas tent to the tapestried wall, and to have grasped the hunter's musket with the hand that might have wielded the general's baton or the marshal's staff. the buccaneer's life was not one of mere revelry and ease; no luxurious caves or safe strongholds served at once for their treasure house, their palace, and their fortress. they were wandering outlaws; hated both by the spaniards and the indians, they ate with a loaded gun within their reach. the jaguar lurked beside them, the coppersnake glared at them from his lair. if their foot stumbled, they were gored by the ox or ripped up by the boar; if they fled they became a prey to the cayman of the pool; they were swept away as they forded swollen rivers; they were swallowed up by that dreadful foretype of the judgment, the earthquake. the shark and the sea monster swam by their canoe, the carrion crow that fed to-day upon the carcase they had left, too often fed to-morrow on the slain hunter. the wildest transitions of safety and danger, plenty and famine, peace and war, health and sickness, surrounded their daily life. to-day on the savannah dark with the wild herds, to-morrow compelled to feast on the flesh of a murdered comerade; to-day surrounded by revelling friends, to-morrow left alone to die. the present system of hide curing practised in california seems almost identical with that employed by the buccaneers. the following extract from dana's "three years before the mast" will convey a correct impression of what constituted the greater portion of an _engagé's_ labour. he describes the shore piled with hides, just out of reach of the tide; each skin doubled lengthwise in the middle, and nearly as stiff as a board, and the whole bundles carried down on men's heads from the place of curing to the stacks. "when the hide is taken from the bullock, holes are cut round it, near the edge, and it is staked out to dry, to prevent shrinking. they are then to be cured, and are carried down to the shore at low tide and made fast in small piles, where they lie for forty-eight hours, when they are taken out, rolled up in wheelbarrows, and thrown into vats full of strong brine, where they remain for forty-eight hours. the sea water only cleans and softens them, the brine pickles them. they are then removed from the vats, lie on a platform twenty-four hours, and are then staked out, still wet and soft; the men go over them with knives, cutting off all remaining pieces of meat or fat, the ears, and any part that would either prevent the packing or keeping. a man can clean about twenty-five a-day, keeping at his work. this cleaning must be done before noon, or they get too dry. when the sun has been upon them for a few hours they are gone over with scrapers to remove the fat that the sun brings out; the stakes are then pulled up and the hides carefully doubled, with the hair outside, and left to dry. about the middle of the afternoon, they are turned upon the other side, and at sunset piled up and turned over. the next day they are spread out and opened again, and at night, if fully dry, are thrown up on a long horizontal pole, five at a time, and beaten with flails to get out the dust; thus, being salted, scraped, cleaned, dried, and beaten, they are stowed away in the warehouses." the buccaneer's life was not spent in quaffing sangaree or basking under orange blossoms--not in smoking beside mountains of flowers, where the humming-birds fluttered like butterflies, and the lizards flashed across the sunbeams, shedding jewelled and enchanted light. no indian in the mine, no arab pearl-diver, no worn, pale children at an english factory, no galley-slave dying at the oar, led such a life as a buccaneer _engagé_ if bound to a cruel master. imagine a delicate youth, of good but poor family, decoyed from a norman country town by the loud-sounding promises of a st. domingo agent, specious as a recruiting sergeant, voluble as the projector of bubble companies, greedy, plausible, and lying. he comes out to the el dorado of his dreams, and is at once taken to the hut of some rude buccaneer. the first night is a revel, and his sleep is golden and full of visions. the spell is broken at daybreak. he has to carry a load of skins, weighing some twenty-six pounds, three or four leagues, through brakes of prickly pear and clumps of canes. the pathless way cannot be traversed at greater speed than about two hours to a quarter of a league. the sun grows vertical, and he is feverish and sick at heart. three years of this purgatory are varied by blows and curses. the masters too often loaded their servants with blows if they dared to faint through weakness, hunger, thirst, or fatigue. some hunters had the forbearance to rest on a sunday, induced rather by languor than by piety; but on these days the _engagé_ had to rise as usual at daybreak, to go out and kill a wild boar for the day's feast. this was disembowelled and roasted whole, being placed on a spit supported on two forked stakes, so that the flames might completely surround the carcase. most buccaneers, even if they rested on sunday, required their apprentices to carry the hides down as usual to the place of shipment, fearing that the spaniards might choose that very day to burn the huts and destroy the skins. an _engagé_ once complained to his master, and reminded him that it was not right to work on a sunday, god himself having said to the jews, "six days shalt thou labour and do all thou hast to do, for the seventh day is the sabbath of the lord thy god." "and i tell you," said the scowling buccaneer, striking the earth with the butt-end of his gun and roaring out a dreadful curse, "i tell you, six days shalt thou kill bulls and skin them, and the seventh day thou shalt carry them down to the beach," beating the daring remonstrant as he spoke. there was no remedy for these sufferers but patience. time or death alone brought relief. three years soon run out. the mind grows hardened under suffering as flesh does under the lash. nature, where she cannot heal a wound, teaches us where to find unfailing balms. some grew reckless to blows, or learned to ingratiate themselves with their masters by their increasing daring or sturdy industry. an apprentice whose bullet never flew false, or who could run down the wild ox on the plain, acquired a fame greater than that of his master. they knew that in time they themselves would be buccaneers, and could inflict the very cruelties from which they now suffered. there were instances where acts of service to the island, or feats of unusual bravery, raised an _engagé_ of a single year to the full rank of hunter. an apprentice who could bring in more hides than even his master, must have been too valuable an acquisition to have been lost by a moment of spleen. that horrible cases of cruelty did occur, there can be no doubt. there were no courts of justice in the forest, no stronger arm or wiser head to which to appeal. but there are always remedies for despair. the loaded gun was at hand, the knife in the belt, and the poison berries grew by the hut. there was the unsubdued passion still at liberty in the heart--there was the will to seize the weapon and the hand to use it. providence is fruitful in her remedies of evils, and preserves a balance which no sovereignty can long disturb. no tyrant can shut up the volcano, or chain the earthquake. there were always the mountains or the spaniards to take refuge amongst, though famine and death dwelt in the den of the wild beasts, and, if they fled to the spaniards, they were often butchered as mere runaway slaves before they could explain, in an unknown language, that they were not spies. but still the very impossibility of preventing such escapes must have tended to temper the severity of the masters. a flibustier, anxious for a crew, must have sometimes carried off discontented _engagés_ both from the plantations and the ajoupas. the following story illustrates the social relations of the buccaneer master and his servant. a buccaneer one day, seeing that his apprentice, newly arrived from france, could not keep up with him, turned round and struck him over the head with the lock of his musket. the youth fell, stunned, to the ground; and the hunter, thinking he was dead, stripped him of his arms, and left his body where it had fallen and weltering in the blood flowing from the wound. on his return to his hut, afraid to disclose the truth, he told his companions that the lad, who had always skulked work, had at last _marooned_ (a spanish word applied to runaway negroes). a few curses were heaped upon him, and no more was thought about his disappearance. soon after the master was out of sight the lad had recovered his senses, arisen, pale and weak, and attempted to return to the tents. unaccustomed to the woods, he lost his way, got off the right track, and finally gave himself up as doomed to certain death. for some days he remained wandering round and round the same spot, without either recovering the path or being able to reach the shore. hunger did not at first press him, for he ate the meat with which his master had loaded him, and ate it raw, not knowing the indian manner of procuring fire, and his knives being taken from his belt. ignorant of what fruits were safe to eat, where animals fit for food were to be found, and not knowing how to kill them unarmed, he prepared his mind for the dreadful and lingering torture of starvation. but he seems to have been of an ingenious and persevering disposition, and hope did not altogether forsake him. he had too a companion, for one of his master's dogs, which had grown fond of his playmate, had remained behind with his body, licking the hand that had so often fed him. at first he spent whole days vainly searching for a path. very often he climbed up a hill, from which he could see the great, blue, level sea, stretching out boundless to the horizon, and this renewed his hope. he looked up, and knew that god's sky was above him, and felt that he might be still saved. at night he was startled by the screams of the monkeys, the bellowing of the wild cattle in the distant savannah, or the unearthly cry of some solitary and unknown bird. superstition filled him with fears, and he felt deserted by man, but tormented by the things of evil. the tracks of the wild cattle led him far astray. long ere this his faithful dog, driven by hunger, had procured food for both. sometimes beneath the spreading boughs of the river-loving yaco-tree, they would surprise a basking sow, surrounded by a wandering brood of voracious sucklings. the dog would cling to the sow, while the boy aided him in the pursuit of the errant progeny. when they had killed their prey, they would lie down and share their meal together. the boy learned to like the raw meat, and the dog had acquired his appetite long before. experience soon taught them where to capture their prey in the quickest and surest manner. he caught the puppies of a wild dog, and trained them in the chase; and he even taught a young wild boar that he had caught alive to join in the capture of his own species. after having led this life for nearly a year, he one day suddenly came upon the long-lost path, which soon brought him to the sea-shore. his master's tents were gone, and, from various appearances, seemed to have been long struck. the lad, now grown accustomed to his wild life, resigned himself to his condition, feeling sure that, sooner or later, he should meet with a party of buccaneers. his deliverance was not long delayed. after about twelve months' life in the bush, he fell in with a troop of skinners, to whom he related his story. they were at first distrustful and alarmed, as his master had told them that he had _marooned_, and had joined the indians. his appearance soon convinced them that his story was true, and that he was neither a _maroon_ nor a deserter, for he was clothed in the rags of his _engagé's_ shirt and drawers, and had a strip of raw meat hanging from his girdle. two tame boars and three dogs followed at his heels, and refused to leave him. he at once joined his deliverers, who freed him from all obligations to his master, and gave him arms, powder, and lead to hunt for himself, and he soon became one of the most renowned buccaneers on that coast. it was a long time before he could eat roasted meat, which not only was distasteful, but made him ill. long after, when flaying a wild boar, he was frequently unable to restrain himself from eating the flesh raw. when an apprentice had served three years, his master was expected to give him as a reward a musket, a pound of powder, six pounds of lead, two shirts, two pairs of drawers, and a cap. the _valets_, as the french called them, then became comerades, and ceased to be mere _engagés_. they took their own _matelots_, and became, in their turn, buccaneers. when they had obtained a sufficient quantity of hides, they either sent or took them to tortuga, and brought from thence a young apprentice to treat him as they themselves had been treated. the planters' _engagés_ led a life more dreadful than that of their wilder brethren. they were decoyed from france under the same pretences that once filled our streets with the peasants' sons of savoy, and the peasants' daughters from frankfort, or that now lure children from the pleasant borders of como, to pine away in a london den. the want of sufficient negroes led men to resort to all artifices to obtain assistance in cultivating the sugar-cane and the tobacco plant. in the french antilles they were sold for three years, but often resold in the interim. amongst the english they were bound for seven years, and being occasionally sold again at their own request, before the expiration of this term, they sometimes served fifteen or twenty years before they could obtain their freedom. at jamaica, if a man could not pay even a small debt at a tavern, he was sold for six or eight months. the planters had agents in france, england, and other countries, who sent out these apprentices. they were worked much harder than the slaves, because their lives, after the expiration of the three years, were of no consequence to the masters. they were often the victims of a disease called "coma," the effect of hard usage and climate, and which ended in idiotcy. père labat remarks the quantity of idiots in the west indies, many of whom were dangerous, although allowed to go at liberty. many of these worse than slaves were of good birth, tender education, and weak constitutions, unable to endure even the debilitating climate, and much less hard labour. esquemeling, himself originally an _engagé_, gives a most piteous description of their sufferings. insufficient food and rest, he says, were the smallest of their sufferings. they were frequently beaten, and often fell dead at their masters' feet. the men thus treated died fast: some became dropsical, and others scorbutic. a man named bettesea, a merchant of st. christopher's, was said to have killed more than a hundred apprentices with blows and stripes. "this inhumanity," says esquemeling, "i have _often seen_ with great grief." the following anecdote of human suffering equals the cruelty of the virginian slave owner who threw one slave into the vat of boiling molasses, and baked another in an oven:-- "a certain planter (of st. domingo) exercised such cruelty towards one of his servants as caused him to run away. having absconded for some days in the woods, he was at last taken, and brought back to the wicked pharaoh. no sooner had he got him but he commanded him to be tied to a tree; here he gave him so many lashes on his naked back as made his body run with an entire stream of blood; then, to make the smart of his wounds the greater, he anointed him with lemon-juice, mixed with salt and pepper. in this miserable posture he left him tied to the tree for twenty-four hours, which being past, he began his punishment again, lashing him as before, so cruelly, that the miserable creature gave up the ghost, with these dying words, 'i beseech the almighty god, creator of heaven and earth, that he permit the wicked spirit to make thee feel as many torments before thy death as thou hast caused me to feel before mine.' "a strange thing, and worthy of astonishment and admiration: scarce three or four days were past, after this horrible fact, when the almighty judge, who had heard the cries of that tormented wretch, suffered the evil one suddenly to possess this barbarous and inhuman homicide, so that those cruel hands which had punished to death the innocent servant were the tormentors of his own body, for he beat himself and tore his flesh after a miserable manner, till he lost the very shape of a man, not ceasing to howl and cry without any rest by day or night. thus he continued raving till he died." it was by the endurance of such sufferings as these that the early buccaneers were hardened into fanatical monsters like montbars and lolonnois. in the early part of his book, esquemeling gives us his own history. a dutchman by birth, he arrived at tortuga in , when the french west india company, unable to turn the island into a depôt, as they had intended, were selling off their merchandise and their plantations. esquemeling, as a bound _engagé_ of the company, was sold to the lieutenant-governor of the island, who treated him with great severity, and refused to take less than three hundred pieces of eight for his freedom. falling sick through vexation and despair, he was sold to a chirurgeon, for seventy pieces of eight, who proved kind to him, and finally gave him his liberty for pieces of eight, to be paid after his first flibustier trip. oexmelin was probably sold almost at the same time as esquemeling, and was bought by the commandant-general. not allowed to pursue his own profession of a surgeon, he was employed in the most laborious and painful work, transplanting tobacco, or thinning the young plants, grating cassava, or pressing the juice from the banana. overworked and under fed, associating with slaves, and regarded with hatred and suspicion, he scarcely received money enough to procure either food or clothing; his master refusing, even for the inducement of two crowns a-day, to allow him to practise as physician. a single year of toil at the plantations threw him into dangerous ill health; for weeks sheltered only under an outhouse, he was kept alive by the kindness of a black slave, who brought him daily an egg. feeble as he was, the great thirst of a tropical fever compelled him often to rise and drag himself to a neighbouring tank, that he might drink, even though to drink were to die. recovering from this fever, a wolfish hunger was the first sign of convalescence, but to appease this he had neither food, nor money to buy it. in this condition he devoured even unripe oranges, green, hard, and bitter, and resorted to other extremities which he is ashamed to confess. on one occasion as he was descending from the rock fort, where his master lived, into the town, he met a friend, the secretary of the governor, who made him come and dine with him, and gave him a parting present of a bottle of wine; his master, who had seen what had passed, by means of a telescope, from his place of vantage, when he returned, took away the wine, and threw him into a dungeon, accusing him of being a spy and a traitor. this prison was a cellar, hollowed out of the rock, full of filth and very dark. in this he swore oexmelin should rot in spite of all the governors in the world. here he was kept for three days, his feet in irons, fed only by a little bread and water that they passed to him through an aperture, without even opening the door. one day, as he lay naked on the stone, and in the dark, he felt a snake twine itself, cold and slimy, round his body, tightening the folds till they grew painful, and then sliding off to its hole. on the fourth day they opened the door and tried to discover if he had told the governor anything of his master's cruelties; they then set him to dig a plot of ground near the fort. finding himself left unguarded, he resolved to go and complain to the governor, having first consulted a good old capuchin, who took compassion on his pale and famished aspect. the governor instantly took pity on the wretched runaway, fed and clothed him, and on his recovery to health placed him with a celebrated surgeon of the place, who paid his value to his master; the governor being unwilling to take him into his own service, for fear he should be accused to the home authorities of taking away slaves from the planters. the _engagés_ were called to their work at daybreak by a shrill whistle (as the negroes are now by the hoarse conch shell); and the foreman, allowing any who liked to smoke, led them to their work. this consisted in felling trees and in picking or lopping tobacco; the driver stood by them as they dug or picked, and struck those who slackened or rested, as a captain would do to his galley slaves. whether sick or well they were equally obliged to work. they were frequently employed in picking mahot, a sort of bark used to tie up bales. if they died of fatigue they were quietly buried, and there an end. early in the morning one of the band had to feed the pigs with potato leaves, and prepare his comerades' dinner. they boiled their meat, putting peas and chopped potatoes into the water. the cook worked with the gang, but returned a little sooner to prepare his messmates' dinner, while they were stripping the tobacco stalk. on feast-days and sundays they had some indulgences. oexmelin relates an instance of a sick slave being employed to turn a grindstone on which his master was sharpening his axe; being too weak to do it well, the butcher turned round and clove him down between the shoulders. the slave fell down, bleeding profusely, and died within two hours; yet this master was one of a body of planters deemed very indulgent in comparison to those of some other islands. one planter of st. christopher, named belle tête, who came from dieppe, prided himself on having killed _engagés_ who would not work, all of whom, he declared, died of sheer laziness. when they were in the last extremities he was in the habit of rubbing their mouths with the yolk of an egg, in order that he might conscientiously swear he had pressed them to take food till the very last. upon a priest one day remonstrating with him on his brutality, he replied, with perfect effrontery, that he had once been a bound _engagé_, and had never been treated better; that he had come all the way to that shore to get money, and provided he could get it and see his children roll in a coach, he did not care himself if the devil carried him off. the following anecdote shows what strange modifications of crime this species of slavery might occasionally produce. there was a rich inhabitant of guadaloupe, whose father became so poor that he was obliged to sell himself as an _engagé_, and by a singular coincidence sold himself to a merchant who happened to be his son's agent. the poor fellow, finding himself his son's servant, thought himself well off, but soon found that he was treated as brutally as the rest. the son, finding the father was old and discontented, and therefore unable to do much work, and afraid to beat him for the sake of the scandal, sold him soon after to another planter, who treated him better, gave him more to eat, and eventually restored him to liberty. of the ten thousand scotch and irish whom cromwell sent to the west indies, many became _engagés_, and finally buccaneers. many of the old puritan soldiers, who had served in the same wars, were enrolled in the same ranks. the same principle of brotherhood applied to the planters as to the ordinary buccaneers. they called each other _matelots_, and, before living together, signed a contract by which they agreed to share everything in common. each had the power to dispose of his companion's money and goods, and an agreement signed by one bound the other also. if the one died, the survivor became the inheritor of the whole, in preference even to heirs who might come from europe to claim the share or attempt to set up a claim. the engagement could be broken up whenever either wished it, and was often cancelled in a moment of petulance or of transitory vexation. a third person was sometimes admitted into the brotherhood on the same conditions. by this singular custom, friendships were formed as firm as those between a highlander and his foster-brother, a canadian trapper and his comerade, or an english sailor and his messmate. the _matelotage_, or _compagnon à bon lot_, being thus formed, the two planters would go to the governor of the island and request a grant of land. the officer of the district was then sent to measure out what they required, of a specified size in a specified spot. the usual grant was a plot, two hundred feet wide and thirty feet long, as near as possible to the sea-shore, as being most convenient for the transport of goods, as well as for the ease of procuring salt water, which they used in preparing the tobacco leaf. when the sea-shore was covered with cabins the planters built their huts higher up and four deep, those nearest to the beach being obliged to allow a roadway to those who were the furthest back. their lodges, or _ajoupas_, were raised upon ground cleared from wood, the thicket being first burnt with the lower branches of the larger trees. the trunks, too large to remove, were cut down to within two or three feet of the earth, and allowed to dry and rot for several summers, and finally also consumed by fire. the savages, on the other hand, cut down all the trees, let them dry as they fell, and then, setting the whole alight, reduced it at once to ashes, without any clearing, lopping, or piling. when about thirty or forty feet of ground was thus cleared, they began to plant vegetables and cultivate the ground--peas, potatoes, manioc, banana, and figs being the daily necessaries of their lives. the banana they planted near rivers, no planter residing in a place where there was not some well or spring. their _casa_, or chief lodge, was supported by posts fifteen or sixteen feet high, thatched with palm branches, rushes, or sugar-canes, and walled either with reeds or palisades. inside, they had _barbecues_, or forms rising two or three feet from the ground, upon which lay their mattresses stuffed with banana leaves, and above it the mosquito net of thin white linen, which they called a _pavillon_. a smaller lodge served for cooking or for warehousing. friends and neighbours always assisted in building these cabins, and were treated in return with brandy by the planter. the laws of the society obliged the settlers to help each other, and this kindness was never refused. the same system of mutual support originated the scotch penny weddings and the english friendly custom of ploughing a young farmer's fields. now the _ajoupa_ was built, the tobacco ground had to be dug. an enclosure of two thousand plants required much care, and was obliged to be kept clean and free from weeds. they had to be lopped, and transplanted, and irrigated, and finally picked and stored. the people of tortuga, the buccaneers' island, exchanged their tobacco with the french merchants for hatchets, hoes, knives, sacking, and above all for wine and brandy. from potatoes, which the planters ate for breakfast, they extracted maize, a sour but pleasant beverage. the cassava root they grated for cakes, making a liquor called _veycon_ of the residue. from the banana they also extracted an intoxicating drink. with the wild boar hunters they exchanged tobacco leaf for dried meat, often paying away at one time two or three hundred weight of tobacco, and frequently sending a servant of their own to the savannahs to help the hunter and to supply him with powder and shot. chapter iii. the flibustiers, or sea rovers. originated in the spanish persecution of french hunters--customs--pay and pensions--the mosquito indians, their habits--food--lewis scott, an englishman, first corsair--john davis: takes st. francisco, in campeachy--debauchery--love of gaming--religion--class from which they sprang--equality at sea--mode of fighting--dress. the flibustiers first began by associating together in bands of from fifteen to twenty men. each of them carried the buccaneer musket, holding a ball of sixteen to the pound, and had generally pistols at his belt, holding bullets of twenty or twenty-four to the pound, and besides this they wore a good sabre or cutlass. when collected at some preconcerted rendezvous, generally a key or small island off cuba, they elected a captain, and embarked in a canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of a single tree in the indian manner. this canoe was either bought by the association or the captain. if the latter, they agreed to give him the first ship they should take. as soon as they had all signed the charter-party, or mutual agreement, they started for the destined port off which they were to cruise. the first spanish vessel they took served to repay the captain and recompense themselves. they dressed themselves in the rich robes of castilian grandees over their own blooded shirts, and sat down to revel in the gilded saloon of the galleon. if they found their prize not seaworthy, they would take her to some small sand island and careen, while the crew helped the indians to turn turtle, and to procure bull's flesh. the spanish crew they kept to assist in careening, for they never worked themselves, but fought and hunted while the unfortunate prisoners were toiling round the fire where the pitch boiled, or the turtle was stewing. the flibustiers divided the spoil as soon as each one had taken an oath that nothing had been secreted. when the ship was ready for sea, they let the spaniards go, and kept only the slaves. if there were no negroes or indians, they retained a few spaniards to wait upon them. if the prisoners were men of consequence, they detained them till they could obtain a ransom. every flibustier brought a certain supply of powder and ball for the common stock. before starting on an expedition it was a common thing to plunder a spanish hog-yard, where a thousand swine were often collected, surrounding the keeper's lodge at night, and shooting him if he made any resistance. the tortoise fishermen were often forced to fish for them gratuitously, although nearly every ship had its mosquito indian to strike turtle and sea-cow, and to fish for the whole boat's crew. "no prey, no pay," was the buccaneers' motto. the charter-party specified the salary of the captain, surgeon, and carpenter, and allowed pieces of eight for victualling. the boys had but half a share, although it was either their duty or the surgeon's, when the rest had boarded, to remain behind to fire the former vessel, and then retire to the prize. the buccaneer code, worthy of napoleon or justinian, was equal to the statutes of any land, insomuch as it answered the want of those for whom it was compiled, and seldom required either revision or enlargement. it was never appealed from, and was seldom found to be unjust or severe. the captain was allowed five or six shares, the master's mate only two, and the other officers in proportion, down to the lowest mariner. all acts of special bravery or merit were rewarded by special grants. the man who first caught sight of a prize received a hundred crowns. the sailor who struck down the enemy's captain, and the first boarder who reached the enemy's deck, were also distinguished by honours. the surgeon, always a great man among a crew whose lives so often depended on his skill, received crowns to supply his medicine chest. if they took a prize, he had a share like the rest. if they had no money to give him, he was rewarded with two slaves. the loss of an eye was recompensed at crowns, or one slave. the loss of both eyes with crowns, or six slaves. the loss of a right hand or right leg at crowns, or two slaves. the loss of both hands or legs at crowns, or six slaves. the loss of a finger or toe at crowns, or one slave. the loss of a foot or leg at crowns, or two slaves. the loss of both legs at crowns, or six slaves. nothing but death seems to have been considered as worth recompensing with more than crowns. for any wound, which compelled a sailor to carry a _canulus_, crowns were given, or two slaves. if a man had not even lost a member, but was for the present deprived of the use of it, he was still entitled to his compensation as much as if he had lost it altogether. the maimed were allowed to take either money or slaves. the charter-party drawn up by sir henry morgan before his famous expedition, which ended in the plunder and destruction of panama, shows several modifications of the earlier contract. to him who struck the enemy's flag, and planted the buccaneers', fifty piastres, besides his share. to him who took a prisoner who brought tidings, piastres, besides his share. for every grenade thrown into an enemy's port-hole, five piastres. to him who took an officer of rank at the risk of his life, proportionate reward. to him who lost two legs, crowns, or fifteen slaves. to him who lost two arms, piastres, or eighteen slaves. to him who lost one leg or one arm, piastres, or six slaves. to him who lost an eye, piastres, or one slave. for both eyes, piastres, or two slaves. for the loss of a finger, piastres, or one slave. a flibustier who had a limb crippled, received the same pay as if it was lost. a wound requiring an issue, was recompensed with piastres, or five slaves. these shares were all allotted before the general division. if a vessel was taken at sea, its cargo was divided among the whole fleet, but the crew first boarding it received crowns, if its value exceeded , crowns, and for every , crowns' worth of cargo, went to the men that boarded. the surgeon received piastres, besides his share. the mosquito indians were the helots of the buccaneers; they employed them to catch fish, and their vessels had generally a small canoe, kept for their use, in which they might strike tortoise or manitee. these indians used no oars, but a pair of broad-bladed paddles, which they held perpendicularly, grasping the staff with both hands and putting back the water by sheer strength, and with very quick, short strokes. two men generally went in the same boat, the one sitting in the stern, the other kneeling down in the head. they both paddled softly till they approached the spot where their prey lay; they then remained still, looking very warily about them, and the one at the head then rose up, with his striking-staff in his hand. this weapon was about eight feet long, almost as thick as a man's arm at the larger end, at which there was a hole into which the harpoon was put; at the other extremity was placed a piece of light (bob) wood, with a hole in it, through which the small end of the staff came. on this bob wood a line of ten or twelve fathoms was neatly wound--the end of the one line being fastened to the wood, and the other to the harpoon, the man keeping about a fathom of it loose in his hand. when he struck, the harpoon came off the shaft, and, as the wounded fish swam away, the line ran off from the reel. although the bob and line were frequently dragged deep under water, and often caught round coral branches or sunk wreck, it generally rose to the surface of the water. the indians struggled to recover the bob, which they were accustomed to do in about a quarter of an hour. when the sea-cow grew tired and began to lie still, they drew in the line, and the monster, feeling the harpoon a second time, would often make a maddened rush at the canoe. it then became necessary that the steersman should be nimble in turning the head of the canoe the way his companion pointed, as he alone was able to see and feel the way the manitee was swimming. directly the fish grew tired, they hauled in the line, which the vexed creature drew out again a dozen times with ferocious but impotent speed. when its strength grew quite exhausted, they would drag it up the side of their boat and knock it on the head, or, pulling it to the shore, made it fast while they went out to strike another. from the great size of a sea-cow it was always necessary to go to shore in order to get it safely into their boats; hauling it up in shoal water, they upset their canoes, and then rolling the fish in righted again with the weight. the indians sometimes paddled one home, and towed the other after them. dampierre says he knew two indians, who every day for a week brought two manitee on board his ship, the least not weighing less than six hundred pounds, and yet in so small a canoe that three englishmen could row it. if the fishermen struck a sea-cow that had a calf they generally captured both--the mother carrying the young under her side fins, and always regarding their safety before her own; the young, moreover, would seldom desert their mother, and would follow the canoe in spite of noise and blows. the least sound startled the manitee, but the turtles required less care. these fish had certain islands near cuba which they chose to lay their eggs in. at certain seasons they came from the gulf of honduras in such vast multitudes, that ships, which had lost their latitude, very often steered at night, following the sound of these clattering shoals. when they had been about a month in the caribbean sea they grew fat, and the fishing commenced. salt turtle was the buccaneers' healthiest food, and was supposed to free them from all the ailments of debauchery. the indians struck the turtle with a short, sharp, triangular-headed iron, not more than an inch long, which fitted into a spear handle. the lance head was loose and had the usual line attached. their lines they made of the fibrous bark of a tree, which they also used for their rigging. the manitee, or sea-cow, was a favourite article of food with these wandering seamen. it was a monster as big as a horse, and as unwieldy as a walrus, with eyes not much larger than peas, and a head like a cow. its flesh was white, sweet, and wholesome. the tail of a young fish was a dainty, and a young sucking-calf, roasted, was an epicure's morsel. the head and tail of older animals were tough, yet the belly was frequently eaten. dampierre speaks of his companions feasting on pork and peas, and beef and dough-boys, and this nautical coarseness was generally found associated with occasional tropical luxuriousness. in cases of necessity, wrecked sailors fed on sharks, which they first boiled and then squeezed dry, and stewed with pepper and vinegar. the oil of turtle they used instead of butter for their dumplings. the best turtle were said to be those that fed on land; those that lived on sea-weed, and not on grass, being yellow and rank. the larger fish needed two men to turn them on their backs. the flibustiers also ate the iguanas, or large south american lizards. vast flocks of doves were found in many of the islands, sometimes in such abundance that a sailor could knock down five or six dozen of an afternoon. the buccaneers' history is a singular example of how evil generates evil. the spaniards destroyed the wild cattle, and the hunters turned freebooters. spain discontinued trading to prevent piracy, and the adventurers, starved for want of gold, made descents upon the mainland. the evil grew by degrees till the worm they had at first trod upon arose in their path an indestructible and devastating monster of a hundred heads. first single ships, then fleets, were swept off by these locusts of the deep; first, islands were burnt, then villages sacked, and at last cities conquered. first the north and then the south pacific were visited, till the whole coast from panama to cape horn trembled at the very flutter of their flag. the first flibustier, lewis scott, scared campeachy with a few canoes. grognet grappled the lima fleet with a whole squadron of pirate craft. the buccaneer spirit arose from revenge, and ended in robbery and murder. at first fierce but merciful, they grew rapacious, loathsome, and bloody. their early chivalry forsook them--they sank into the enemies of god and all mankind, and the last refuse of them expired on the gallows of jamaica, children of cain, unpitied by any, their very courage despised, and their crimes detested. at their culminating point, united under the sway of one great mind, they might have formed a large empire in south america, or conquered it as tributaries to france or england. always thirsty for gold, they were often chivalrous, generous, intrepid, merciful, and disinterested. a greater evil soon cured the lesser. the spaniards, dreading robbery worse than death, ceased in a great measure to trade. the poorer merchants were ruined by the loss of a single cocoa vessel; the richer waited for the convoy of the plate fleets, or followed in the wake of the galleon, hoping to escape if she was captured, as the chickens do when the hen goes cackling up in the claws of the kite. for every four vessels that once sailed not more than one could be now seen. what with the war of france on holland, and england on france, and all on spain, there was little safety for the poor trader. yet those who could risk a loss still made great profits. this cessation of trade was a poor remedy against the sea robber: it was to rob oneself instead of being robbed, to commit suicide for fear of murder. it was a remedy that saved life, but rendered life hateful. the buccaneers, starving for want of prey, remained moodily in the rocky fastnesses of tortuga, like famished eagles looking down on a country they have devastated. to accomplish greater feats they united in bodies, and made forays on the coast. they had before remained at the threshold--they now rushed headlong into the sanctuary, and they got _their_ bread, or rather other people's bread, by daring dashes and surprises of towns, leaving them only when wrapped in flames or swept by the pestilence that always followed in their train. we may claim for our own nation the first pioneer in this new field of enterprise. lewis scott, an englishman, led the way by sacking the town of st. francisco, in campeachy, and, compelling the inhabitants to pay a ransom, returned safely to jamaica. where the carcase is there will the eagles be gathered together, for no sooner had his sails grown small in the distance than mansweld, another buccaneer, made several successful descents upon the same luckless coast, unfortunate in its very fertility. he then equipped a fleet and attempted to return by the kingdom of new granada to the south sea, passing the town of carthagena. this scheme failed in consequence of a dispute arising between the french and english crews, who were always quarrelling over their respective share of provisions; but in spite of this he took the island of st. catherine, and attempted to found a buccaneer state. john davis, a dutchman, excelled both his predecessors in daring. cruising about jamaica he became a scourge to all the spanish mariners who ventured near the coasts of the caraccas, or his favourite haunts, carthagena and the boca del toro, where he lay wait for vessels bound to nicaragua. one day he missed his shot, and having a long time traversed the sea and taken nothing--a failure which generally drove these brave men to some desperate expedient to repair their sinking fortunes--he resolved with ninety men to visit the lagoon of nicaragua, and sack the town of granada. an indian from the shores of the lagoon promised to guide him safely and secretly; and his crew, with one voice, declared themselves ready to follow him wherever he led. by night he rowed thirty leagues up the river, to the entry of the lake, and concealed his ships under the boughs of the trees that grew upon the banks; then putting eighty men in his three canoes he rowed on to the town, leaving ten sailors to guard the vessels. by day they hid under the trees; at night they pushed on towards the unsuspecting town, and reached it on the third midnight--taking it, as he had expected, without a blow and by surprise. to a sentinel's challenge they replied that they were fishermen returning home, and two of the crew, leaping on shore, ran their swords through the interrogator, to stop further questions which might have been less easily answered. following their guide they reached a small covered way that led to the right of the town, while another indian towed their canoes to a point to which they had agreed each man should bring his booty. as soon as they arrived at the town they separated into small bands, and were led one by one to the houses of the richest inhabitants. here they quietly knocked, and, being admitted as friends, seized the inmates by the throat and compelled them, on pain of death, to surrender all the money and jewels that they had. they then roused the sacristans of the principal churches, from whom they took the keys and carried off all the altar plate that could be beaten up or rendered portable. the pixes they stripped of their gems, gouged out the jewelled eyes of virgin idols, and hammered up the sacramental cups into convenient lumps of metal. this quiet and undisturbed pillage had lasted for two hours without a struggle, when some servants, escaping from the adventurers, began to ring the alarm bells to warn the town, while a few of the already plundered citizens, breaking into the marketplace, filled the streets with uproar and affright. davis, seeing that the inhabitants were beginning to rally from that panic which had alone secured his victory, commenced a retreat, as the enemy were now gathering in armed and threatening numbers. in a hollow square, with their booty in the centre, the buccaneers fought their way to their boats, amid tumultuous war-cries and shouts of derision and exultation. in spite of their haste, they were prudent enough to carry with them some rich spaniards, intending to exchange them for any of their own men they might lose in their retreat. on regaining their ships they compelled these prisoners to send them as a ransom cows, with which they revictualled their ships for the passage back to jamaica. they had scarcely well weighed anchor before they saw mounted spaniards dash down to the shore in the hopes of arresting their retreat. a few broadsides were the parting greetings of these unwelcome visitors. this expedition was accomplished in eight days. the booty consisted of coined money and bullion amounting to about , crowns. esquemeling computes it at , pieces of eight, and in ready money, plate, and jewels to about , pieces of eight more. thus concluded this adventurous raid, in which a town forty leagues inland, and containing at least well-armed defenders, was stormed and robbed by eighty resolute sailors. davis reached jamaica in safety with his plunder, which was soon put into wider circulation by the aid of the dice, the tavern keepers, and the courtesans. the money once expended, davis was roused to fresh exertion. he associated himself with two or three other captains, who, superstitiously relying on his good fortune, chose him as admiral of a small flotilla of eight or nine armed gunboats. the less fortunate rewarded him with boundless confidence. his first excursion was to the town of st. christopher, in cuba, to wait for the fleet from new spain, in hopes to cut off some rich unwieldy straggler. but the fleet contrived to escape his sentinels and pass untouched. davis then sallied forth and sacked a small town named st. augustine of florida, in spite of its castle and garrison of men. he suffered little loss; but the inhabitants proved very poor, and the booty was small. in making war against spain, the hunters were mere privateersmen cruising against a national enemy; but in their endurance, patience, and energy, they stood alone. in their onset--rushing, singing, and dancing through fire and flame--they resembled rather the old barsekars or the first levies of mohammed. but in one point they were very remarkable; that they did more, and were yet actuated by a lower motive. almost devoid of religion, they fought with all the madness of fanaticism against a people themselves constitutionally fanatic, but already enervated by climate, by sudden wealth, and a long experience of contaminating luxury. the galleons of manilla were their final aim, as they gradually passed from the devastated shores of south america to the philippine islands and the coasts of guinea. they had been the instrument of providence, and knew themselves so, to avenge the wrongs of the indian upon the spaniard; they were soon to become the first avengers of the negro. long years of plunder had made the spaniard and the creole as secretive as the hindu. at the first intelligence of some terrified fisherman, the frightened townsman threw his pistoles into wells, or mortared them up in the wall of his fortresses. laden mules were driven into the interior; the women fled to the nearest plantation; the old men barred themselves up in the church. their first thought was always flight; their second, to turn and strike a blow for all they loved, valued, and revered. the debauchery of the buccaneers was as unequalled as their courage. oexmelin relates a story of an englishman who gave crowns to his mistress at a single revel. this man, who had earned , crowns by exposing himself to desperate dangers, was, within three months, sold for a term of three years to a planter, to discharge a tavern debt which he could not pay. a conqueror of panama might be seen to-morrow driven by the overseer's whip among a gang of slaves, cutting sugar canes, or picking tobacco. another buccaneer, a frenchman, surnamed vent-en-panne, was so addicted to play that he lost everything but his shirt. every pistole that he could earn he spent in this absorbing vice--so tempting to men, who longed for excitement, were indifferent to money, and daily risked their lives for the prospect of gain. on one occasion he lost crowns, his whole share of some recent prize-money, besides crowns which he had borrowed of a comerade who would now lend him no more. determined to try his fortune again, he hired himself as servant at the very gambling-house where he had been ruined, and, by lighting pipes for the players and bringing them in wine, earned fifty crowns in two days. he staked this, and soon won , crowns. he then paid his debts and resolved to lose no more, shipping himself on board an english vessel that touched at barbadoes. at barbadoes he met a rich jew who offered to play him. unable to abstain, he sat down, and won , crowns and , lbs. of sugar already shipped for england, and, in addition to this, a large mill and sixty slaves. the jew, begging him to stay and give him his revenge, ran and borrowed some money, and returned and took up the cards. the buccaneer consented, more from love of play than generosity; and the jew, putting down , jacobuses, won back crowns, and finally all his antagonist's previous winnings--stripping him even to the very clothes he wore. the delighted winner allowed him for very shame to retain his clothes, and gave him money enough to return, disconsolate and beggared, to tortuga. becoming again a buccaneer, he gained , or , crowns. m. d'ogeron, the governor, treating him as a wayward child, taking away his money, sent him back to france with bills of exchange for the amount. vent-en-panne, now cured of his vice, took to merchandise; but, always unfortunate, was killed in his first voyage to the west indies, his vessel being attacked by two ostende frigates, of twenty-four or thirty guns each, which were eventually, however, driven off by the dead man's crew of only thirty buccaneers. when the pleasures of tortuga or jamaica had swallowed up all the hard-earned winnings of these men, they returned to sea, expending their last pistoles in powder and ball, and leaving heavy scores still unsettled with the cabaretiers. they then hastened to the quays, or small sandy islands off cuba, to careen their vessels and to salt turtle. sometimes they repaired to honduras, where they had indian wives; latterly, to the galapagos isles, to the boca del toro, or the coast of castilla del oro. some buccaneers, esquemeling says, would spend , piastres in a night, not leaving themselves even a shirt in the morning. "my own master," he adds, "would buy a whole pipe of wine, and, placing it in the street, would force every one that passed by to drink with him, threatening also to pistol them in case they would not do it. at other times he would do the same with barrels of ale or beer; and very often with both his hands he would throw these liquors about the street, and wet the clothes of such as walked by, without regard whether he spoiled their apparel or not, or whether they were men or women." port royal was a favourite scene for such carousals. even as late as , montauban gives us some idea of the wild debaucheries committed by the buccaneers even at bourdeaux. "my freebooters," he says, "who had not seen france for a long time, finding themselves now in a great city where pleasure and plenty reigned, were not backward to refresh themselves after the fatigues they had endured while so long absent from their native country. they spent a world of money here, and proved horribly extravagant. the merchants and their hosts made no scruple to advance them money, or lend them as much as they pleased, upon the reputation of their wealth and the noise there was throughout the city of the valuable prizes whereof they had a share. all the nights they spent in such divertisements as pleased them best; and the days, in running up and down the town in masquerade, causing themselves to be carried in chairs with lighted flambeaux at noon--of which debauches some died, while four of my crew fairly deserted me." this, it must be remembered, was at a time when buccaneering had sunk into privateering--the half-way house to mere piracy. the distinguishing mark of the true buccaneer was, that he attacked none but spaniards. of the buccaneers' estimation of religion, charlevoix gives us some curious accounts. he says, "there remained no traces of it in their heart, but still, sometimes, from time to time, they appeared to meditate deeply. they never commenced a combat without first embracing each other, in sign of reconciliation. they would at such times strike themselves rudely on the breast, as if they wished to rouse some compunction in their hearts, and were not able. once escaped from danger, they returned headlong to their debauchery, blasphemy, and brigandage. the buccaneers, looking upon themselves as worthy fellows, regarded the flibustiers as wretches, but in reality there was not much difference. the buccaneers were, perhaps, the less vicious, but the flibustiers preserved a little more of the externals of religion; _with the exception of a certain honour among them, and their abstinence from human flesh, few savages were more wicked, and a great number of them much less so_." this passage shows a very curious jealousy between the hunters and the corsairs, and a singular distinction as to religious feeling. père labat, however, speaks of the flibustiers as attending confession immediately after a sea-fight with most exemplary devotion. a more important distinction than that made by charlevoix was that between the protestant and roman catholic adventurers, the latter being as superstitious as the former were irreverent. ravenau de lussan always speaks with horror of the blasphemy and irreligion of his english comerades, one of whom was an old trooper of cromwell's; and grognet's fleet eventually separated from the english ships, on account of the latter crews lopping crucifixes with their sabres, and firing at images with their pistols. a flibustier captain, named daniel, shot one of his men in a spanish church for behaving irreverently at mass; and ringrose gives an instance of an english commander who threw the dice overboard, if he found his men gambling on a sunday. we find ravenau de lussan's troop singing a _te deum_ after victories, and oexmelin tells us that prayers were said daily on board flibustier ships. it is difficult to say from what class of life either the buccaneers or the flibustiers sprang. the planters often became hunters, and the hunters sailors, and the reverse. morgan was a welsh farmer's son, who ran away to sea; montauban, the son of a gascon gentleman; d'ogeron had been a captain in the french marines; von horn, a common sailor in an ostende smack; dampierre was a somersetshire yeoman, and esquemeling a dutch planter's apprentice. charlevoix says, "few could bear for many years a life so hard and laborious, and the greater part only continued in it till they could gain enough to become planters. many, continually wasting their money, never earned sufficient to buy a plantation; others grew so accustomed to the life, and so fond even of its hardships and painful risks, that, though often heirs to good fortunes, they would not leave it to return to france." the life of m. d'ogeron, the governor of tortuga, is an example of another class of buccaneers, and of the causes which led to the choice of such a profession. at fifteen, he was captain of a regiment of marines, and in , joining a company intending to colonize the matingo river, he embarked in a ship, fitted out at the expense of , livres. disappointed in this bubble, he tried to settle at martinique, but deceived by the governor, who withdrew a grant of land, he determined to settle with the buccaneers of st. domingo. embarking in a ricketty vessel, he ran ashore on hispaniola, and lost all his merchandise and provisions. giving his _engagés_ their liberty, he joined the hunters, and became distinguished as well for courage as virtue. his goods sent from france were sold at a loss, and he returned to his native country a poor man. collecting his remaining money, he hired _engagés_, and loaded a vessel with wine and brandy. finding the market glutted, he sold his cargo at a loss, and was cheated by his jamaica agent. returning again to france, he fitted out a third vessel, and finally settled as a planter in hispaniola. at this juncture the french west india company fixed their eyes upon him, and in made him governor of their colony. ravenau de lussan illustrates the motives that sometimes led the youth of the higher classes to turn buccaneers. he commences his book with true french vanity, by saying, that few children of paris, which contains so many of the wonders of the world (ten out of the eight, we suppose), seek their fortune abroad. from a child he was seized with a passionate disposition for travel, and would steal out of his father's house and play truant when he was yet scarce seven. he soon reached la vilette and the suburbs, and by degrees learnt to lose sight of paris. with this passion arose a desire for a military life. the noise of a drum in the street transported him with joy. he made a friend of an officer, and, offering him his sword, joined his company, and witnessed the siege of condé, ending his campaign, still unwearied of his new form of life. he then became a cadet in a marine regiment. the captain drained him of all his money, and his father, at a great expense, bought him his discharge. under the count d'avegeau he entered the french guards, and fought at the siege of st. guislain. growing, on his return, weary of paris, he embarked again on sea, having nothing but voyages in his head; the longest and most dangerous appearing to his imagination, he says, the most delightful. travelling by land seemed to him long and difficult, and he once more chose the sea, deeming it only fit for a woman to remain at home ignorant of the world. his affectionate parents tried in vain to reason him out of this gadding humour, and finding him only grow firmer and more inflexible, they desisted. not caring whither he went, so he could get to sea, he embarked in from dieppe for st. domingo. here he remained for five months _engagé_ to a french planter, "more a turk than a frenchman." "but what misery," he says, "soever i have undergone with him, i freely forgive him, being resolved to forget his name, which i shall not mention in this place, because the laws of christianity require that at my hand, though as to matters of charity he is not to expect much of that in me, since he, on his part, has been every way defective in the exercise thereof upon my account." but his patience at last worn out, and weary of cruelties that seemed endless, de lussan applied to m. de franquesnay, the king's lieutenant, who himself gave him shelter in his house for six months. he was now in debt, and thinking it "honest to pay his creditors," he joined the freebooters in order to satisfy them, not willing to apply again for money to his parents. "these borrowings from the spaniards," he says, "have this advantage attending them, that there is no obligation to repay them," and there was war between the two crowns, so that he was a legal privateersman. selecting a leader, de lussan pitched on de graff, as a brave corsair, who happened to be then at st. domingo, eager to sail. furnishing himself with arms, at the expense of franquesnay, he joined de graff. "we were," he says, "in a few hours satisfied with each other, and became such friends as those are wont to be who are about to run the same risk of fortune, and apparently to die together." the nd of november, the day he sailed from petit guave, seemed the happiest of his life. dampierre mentions an old buccaneer, who was slain at the taking of leon. "he was," he says, "a stout, grey-headed old man, aged about eighty-four, who had served under oliver cromwell in the irish rebellion; after which he was at jamaica, and had followed privateering ever since. he would not accept the offer our men made him to tarry ashore, but said he would venture as far as the best of them; but when surrounded by the spaniards he refused "to take quarter, but discharged his gun amongst them, keeping a pistol still charged; so they shot him dead at a distance. his name was swan (_rara avis_). he was a very merry, hearty old man, and always used to declare he would never take quarter." when the adventurers were at sea, they lived together as a friendly brotherhood. every morning at ten o'clock the ship's cook put the kettle on the fire to boil the salt beef for the crew, in fresh water if they had plenty, but if they ran short in brine; meal was boiled at the same time, and made into a thick porridge, which was mixed with the gravy and the fat of the meat. the whole was then served to the crew on large platters, seven men to a plate. if the captain or cook helped themselves to a larger share than their messmates, any of the republican crew had a right to change plates with them. but, notwithstanding this brotherly equality, and in spite of the captain being deposable by his crew, there was maintained at all moments of necessity the strictest discipline, and the most rigid subordination of rank. the crews had two meals a day. they always said grace before meat: the french catholics singing the canticles of zecharias, the magnificat, or the miserere; the english reading a chapter from the new testament, or singing a psalm. directly a vessel hove in sight, the flibustiers gave chase. if it showed a spanish flag, the guns were run out, and the decks cleared; the pikes lashed ready, and every man prepared his musket and powder, of which he alone was the guardian (and not the gunner), these articles being generally paid for from the common stock, unless provided by the captain. they first fell on their knees at their quarters (each group round its gun), to pray god that they might obtain both victory and plunder. then all lay down flat on the deck, except the few left to steer and navigate--proceeding to board as soon as their musketeers had silenced the enemy's fire. if victorious, they put their prisoners on shore, attended to the wounded, and took stock of the booty. a third part of the crew went on board the prize, and a prize captain was chosen by lot. no excuse was allowed; and if illness prevented the man elected taking the office, his _matelot_, or companion, took his place. on arriving at tortuga, they paid a commission to the governor, and before dividing the spoil, rewarded the captain, the surgeons, and the wounded. the whole crew then threw into a common heap all they possessed above the value of five sous, and took an oath on the new testament, holding up their right hands, that they had kept nothing back. any one detected in perjury was marooned, and his share either given to the rest, to the heirs of the dead, or as a bequest to some chapel. the jewels and merchandise were sold, and they divided the produce. "it was impossible," says oexmelin, "to put any obstacle in the way of men who, animated simply by the hope of gain, were capable of such great enterprises, having _nothing but life_ to lose and all to win. it is true that they would not have persisted long in their expeditions if they had had neither boats nor provisions. for ships they never wanted, because they were in the habit of going out in small canoes and capturing the largest and best provisioned vessels. for harbours they could never want, because everybody fled before them, and they had but to appear to be victorious." this intelligent and animated writer concludes his book by expressing an opinion that a firm and organized resistance by spain at the outset might have stopped the subsequent mischief; but this opinion he afterwards qualifies in the following words, which, coming from such a writer so well acquainted with those of whom he writes, speaks volumes in favour of buccaneer prowess: "je dis _peut-être_, car les aventuriers sont de terribles gens." charlevoix describes the first flibustiers as going out in canoes with twenty-five or thirty men, without pilot or provisions, to capture pearl-fishers and surprise small cruisers. if they succeeded, they went to tortuga, bought a vessel, and started strong, going to cuba to take in salt turtle, or to port margot or bayaha for dried pork or beef--dividing all upon the _compagnon à bon lot_ principle. they always said public prayer before starting on an expedition, and returned solemn thanks to god for victory. "they were," says a jesuit writer, "at first so crowded in their boats that they had scarcely room to lie down; and, as they practised no economy in eating, they were always short of food. they were also night and day exposed to the inclemency of the weather, and yet loved so much the independence in which they lived, that no one murmured. some sang when others wished to sleep, and all were by turns compelled to bear these inconveniences without complaint. but one may imagine men so little at their ease spared no pains to gain more comforts; that the sight of a larger and more convenient vessel gave them courage sufficient to capture it; and that hunger deprived them of all sense of the danger of procuring food. they attacked all they met without a thought, and boarded as soon as possible. a single volley would have sunk their vessels; but they were skilful in manoeuvre, their sailors were very active, and they presented to the enemy nothing but a prow full of fusiliers, who, firing through the portholes, struck the gunners with terror. once on board, nothing could prevent them becoming masters of a ship, however numerous the crew. the spaniards' blood grew cold when those whom they called, and looked upon as, demons came in sight, and they frequently surrendered at once in order to obtain quarter. if the prize was rich their lives were spared; but if the cargo proved poor, the buccaneers often threw the crew into the sea in revenge." their favourite coasts were the caraccas, carthagena, nicaragua, and campeachy, where the ports were numerous and well frequented. their best harbours at the caraccas were cumana, canagote, coro, and maracaibo; at carthagena, la rancheria, st. martha, and portobello. round cuba they watched for vessels going from new spain to maracaibo. if going, they found them laden with silver; if returning, full of cocoa. the prizes to the caraccas were laden with the lace and manufactures of spain; those from havannah, with leather, campeachy wood, cocoa, tobacco, and spanish coin. the dress of the buccaneer sailors must have varied with the changes of the age. retaining their red shirts and leather sandals as the working dress of their brotherhood, we find them donning all the splendour rummaged from spanish cabins, now wearing the plumed hat and laced sword-belt of charles the second's reign, and now the tufts of ribbons of the perfumed court of louis quatorze. sprung from all nations and all ranks, some of them prided themselves upon the rough beard, bare feet, and belted shirt of the rudest seaman, while others, like grammont and de graff, flaunted in the richest costumes of their period. they must have passed from the long cloak and loose cassock of the stuart reign to the jack-boots and dutch dress of william of orange; from the laced and flowing steenkirk to the fringed cock-hat and deep-flapped waistcoat of queen anne. in the english translation of esquemeling, barthelemy portugues, one of the earliest sea-rovers, is represented as having his long, lank hair parted in the centre and falling on his shoulders, and his moustachios long and rough. he wears a plain embroidered coat with a neck-band, and carries in his arms a short, broad sabre, unsheathed, as was the habit with many buccaneer chiefs. roche braziliano appears in a plain hunter's shirt, the strings tying it at the neck being fastened in a bow. lolonnois has the same shirt, showing at his neck and puffing through the openings of his sleeve, and he carries a naked broadsword with a shell guard. in the portrait of sir henry morgan we see much more affectation of aristocratic dress. he has a rich coat of charles the second's period, a laced cravat tied in a fringed bow with long ends, and his broad sword-belt is stiff with gold lace. the hunter's shirt, however, still shows through the slashed sleeves. chapter iv. peter the great, the first buccaneer. plunder of segovia--pierre-le-grand--pierre françois--barthelemy portugues--his escapes--roche, the brazilian--fanatical hatred of spaniards--wrecks and adventures. the date of the first organized buccaneer expedition is uncertain. we only know that about the year , a large party of buccaneers, french and english, joined in an expedition to the continent. they ascended, in canoes, a river on the mosquito shore, a small distance on the south side of cape gracias à dios, and after labouring for a month against a strong stream, full of torrents, left their boats and marched to the town of nueva segovia, which they plundered, and then returned down the river. it is difficult to trace the exact beginning of the flibustiers, or, as they were soon called, the buccaneers. according to most writers, the first successful adventurer known at tortuga was pierre-le-grand (peter the great). he was a native of dieppe, and his greatest enterprise was the capture of the vice-admiral of the spanish _flota_, while lying off cape tiburon, on the west side of hispaniola. this he accomplished in a canoe with only twenty-eight companions. setting out by the carycos he surprised his unwieldy antagonist in the channel of bahama, which the spaniards had hitherto passed in perfect security. he had been now a long time at sea without obtaining any prize worth taking, his provisions were all but exhausted, and his men, in danger of starving, were almost reduced to despair. while hanging over the gunwale, listless and discontented, the buccaneers suddenly spied a large vessel of the spanish fleet, separated from the rest and fast approaching them. they instantly sailed towards her to ascertain her strength, and though they found it to be vastly superior to theirs, partly from despair and partly from cupidity they resolved at once to take it or die in the attempt. it was but to die a little quicker if they failed, and the blood in their veins might as well be shed in a moment as slowly stagnate with famine. if they did not conquer they would die, but if they did not attack, and escaped notice, they would also perish, and by the most painful and lingering of deaths. being now come so near that flight was impossible, they took a solemn oath to their captain to stand by him to the last, and neither to flinch nor skulk, partly hoping that the enemy was insufficiently armed, and that they might still master her. it was in the dusk of the evening, and the coming darkness facilitated their boarding, and concealed the disadvantage of numbers. while they got their arms ready they ordered their chirurgeon to bore a hole in the sides of the boat, in order that the utter hopelessness of their situation might impel them to more daring self-devotion, that they might be forced to attack more vigorously and board more quickly. but their courage needed no such incitement. with no other arms than a sword in one hand and a pistol in the other, they immediately climbed up the sides of the spaniard and made their way pell-mell to the state cabin. there they found the captain and his officers playing at cards. setting a pistol to their breasts, they commanded them to deliver up the ship. the spaniards, surprised to hear the buccaneers below, not having seen them board, and seeing no boat by which they could have arrived (for the surgeon had now sunk it, and rejoined his friends through a porthole), cried out, in an agony of superstitious fear, "jesu, bless us, these are devils!" thinking the men had fallen from the clouds, or had been shaken from some shooting star. in the mean time peter's kinsfolk fought their way into the gunroom, seized the arms, killed a few sailors who snatched up swords, and drove the rest under hatches. that very morning some of the spanish sailors had told their captain that a pirate boat was gaining upon them, but when he came up to see, and beheld so small a craft, he laughed at their fears of a mere cockle shell, and went down again, despising any vessel, though it were as big and strong as their own. upon a second alarm, late in the day, when his lieutenant asked him if he should not get a cannon or two ready, he grew angry, and replied, "no, no, rig the crane out, and hoist the boat aboard." peter, having taken this rich prize, detained as many of the spanish seamen as he needed, and put the rest on shore in hispaniola, which was close at hand. the vessel was full of provisions and great riches, and pierre steered at once for france, never returning to resume a career so well begun. the news of this capture set tortuga in an uproar. the planters and hunters of hispaniola burned to follow up a profession so glorious and so profitable. it had been discovered now that a man's fortune could be made by one single scheme of daring and enterprise. not being able to purchase or hire boats at tortuga, they set forth in their canoes to seek them elsewhere. some began cruising about cape de alvarez, carrying off small spanish vessels that carried hides and tobacco to the havannah. returning with their prizes to tortuga, they started again for campeachy or new spain, where they captured richer vessels of greater burden. in less than a month they had brought into harbour two plate vessels, bound from campeachy to the caraccas, and two other ships of great size. in two years no less than twenty buccaneer vessels were equipped at tortuga, and the spaniards, finding their losses increase and transport becoming precarious, despatched two large men-of-war to defend the coast. the next scourge of the spaniard in these seas was pierre françois, a native of dunkirk, whose combinative, far-seeing genius and dauntless heart soon raised him above the level of the mere footpads of the ocean. his little brigantine, with a picked crew of twenty-six men--hunters by sea and land--cruised generally about the cape de la vela, waiting for merchant ships on their way from maracaibo to campeachy. pierre had now been a long time afloat and taken no prize, the usual prelude to great enterprises amongst these men, who defied all dangers and all enemies. the provisions were running short, the boat was leaky, the captain moody and silent, and the crew half mutinous. to return empty-handed to tortuga was to be a butt for every sneerer, a victim to unrelenting creditors; to the men beggary, to pierre a loss of fame and all future promotion. but, there being a perfect equality in these boats, the crews seldom rose in open rebellion; and as every one had a voice in the proposal of a scheme, there was no one to rail at if the scheme failed. at last, amid this suspense, more tedious than a tropic calm, one more daring or more far-seeing than the rest stood up and suggested a visit to the pearl-fishings at the rivière de la hache. history, always drowsy at critical periods, does not say if françois was the proposer of this scheme or not. we may be sure he was a sturdy seconder, and that the plan was carried amid wild cheering and waving of hats and guns and swords enough to scare the sharks floating hungrily round the boat, and frighten the glittering flying-fish back into the sea. these rancheria fishings were at a rich bank of pearl to which the people of carthagena sent annually twelve vessels, with a man-of-war convoy, generally a spanish armadilla with a crew of men, and carrying twenty-four pieces of cannon. every vessel had two or three negro slaves on board, who dived for the pearls. these men seldom lived long, and were frequently ruptured by the exertion of holding breath a quarter of an hour below the waves. the time for diving was from october till may, when the north winds were lulled and the sea calm. the large vessel was called the _capitana_, and to this the proceeds of the day were brought every night, to prevent any risk of fraud or theft. rather than return unsuccessful, pierre resolved to swoop down upon this guarded covey, and carry off the ship of war in the sight of all the fleet; a feat as dangerous as the abduction of an irish heiress on the brink of marriage. he found the fishing boats riding at anchor at the mouth of the river de la hache, and the man-of-war scarcely half a league distant. in the morning he approached them, and they, seeing him hovering at a distance like a kite above a farmyard, ran under shelter of their guardian's guns, like chickens under the hen's wing. keeping still at a distance, they supposed he was afraid to approach, and soon allowed their fears to subside. the captain of the armadilla, however, took the precaution of sending three armed men on board each boat, believing the pearls the object of the buccaneer, and left his own vessel almost defenceless. the hour had come. furling his sails, pierre rowed along the coast, feigning himself a spanish vessel from maracaibo, and when near the pearl bank, suddenly attacked the vice-admiral with eight guns and sixty men, and commanded him to surrender. the spaniards, although surprised, made a good defence, but at last surrendered after half an-hour's hand-to-hand fight, before the almost unmanned armadilla could approach to render assistance. pierre now sank his own boat, which had only been kept afloat by incessant working at the pumps. many men would have rested satisfied with such a prize, but pierre knew no capua, and "thought naught done while aught remained to do." he at once resolved, by a stratagem, to capture the armadilla, and then the whole fleet would be his own. the night being very dark, and the wind high and favourable, he weighed anchor, forcing the prisoners to help his own crew. the man-of-war, seeing one of its fleet sailing, followed, fearing that the sailors were absconding with the pearls. as soon as it approached, pierre made all the spaniards, on pain of instant death, shout out "_victoria, victoria!_ we have taken the ladrones," upon which the man-of-war drew off, promising to send for the prisoners in the morning. laughing in his sleeve, pierre gave orders for hoisting all sail, and stood away for the open sea, putting forth all his strength to get out of sight by daybreak. but the blood of the murdered spaniards, yet hot upon the deck, was crying to heaven against him, and he was pursued. he had not got a league before the wind fell, and his ship lay like a log on the water, just within sight of his pursuers, who kept a long way off, burning with impatience and shame, and fretting like hounds in leash when the boar breaks out. about evening the wind rose, after much invocatory whistling, many prayers, many curses. pierre, ignorant of the power of his prize, and what canvas she could bear, hoisted at random every stitch of sail and ran for his life, pursued by the armadilla, wrathful, white-winged, and swift. like many a fleet runner, pierre stumbled in his very eagerness for speed. he overloaded his vessel with sail. the wind grew higher, and howled like an avenging spirit, and his mainmast fell with the crash of a thunder-split oak. but pierre held firm; he threw his prisoners into the hold, nailed down the hatches, and, trusting to night to escape, stood boldly at bay. he despaired of meeting force by force, having only twenty-two sound men, the rest being, before long, either killed or wounded. all in vain; the great bird of prey bore down upon him like a hawk upon a throstle, gaining, gaining every moment. pierre defended himself courageously, and at last surrendered on condition. the spanish captain agreed that the buccaneers should not be employed in carrying, building-stones for three or four years like mere negroes, but should be set safe on dry land. as yet, the deep animosity of the two races had not sprung up. the prize they so nearly bore off contained above , pieces of eight in pearls, besides provisions and goods. at first the captain would have put them all to the sword, but his crew persuaded him to keep his word. the frenchmen were then thrust down with curses into the same dark hold from whence the imprisoned spaniards were now released; so "the whirligig of time brings about its revenge." when the crestfallen buccaneers were brought before the governor of carthagena, an outcry arose among the populace that the robbers should all be hung, to atone for an alfarez whom they had killed, and who, they said, was worth the whole french nation put together. the governor, however, though he did not put them to death, ungenerously broke the terms of his agreement, and compelled his prisoners to work at the fortifications of st. francisco, in his own island. after about three years of this painful slavery, amid the jeers and contumely of the very negroes, they were sent to spain, and from thence escaping one by one to france, made their way back to the spanish main, more eager than ever to revenge their wrongs at the hands of a nation whose riches furnished a ready means of expiation, and whose cowardice rendered them incapable of frequent retaliation. the third hero on our stage, equally bold and no less memorable, was barthelemy portugues, a native of portugal, as his name implied. roused by the rumours of adventures which insured gold and glory, barthelemy (no saint, and certainly more ready to flay others than to submit to flaying) sought out a small vessel at jamaica, and fitted it up at his own expense. as only his most remarkable enterprises are recorded it is probable, from his having money, that he was already known as a successful flibustier. this boat he armed with four three-pounders, and embarked with a crew of thirty men. leaving kingston with a good wind at his back, he set sail to cruise off cape de corriente, which he knew was the high road where he should meet vessels coming from the caraccas or carthagena, on their way to campeachy, new spain, or the havannah. he had not been long beating about the cape--a point rounded with as much care by a spanish merchantman, afraid of buccaneers, as cape st. vincent was by the european captain, dreading the salee rovers--before a great vessel, bound from maracaibo and carthagena to the havannah, hove in sight. it had a crew of seventy men, and carried twenty guns, and many passengers and marines. the flibustiers, thinking a spaniard so well armed and manned to be more than their match, held one of their republican councils round the mast, and refused to attack unless the captain wished. he decided that no opportunity should be lost, for that nothing in any part of the world could be won without risk. they instantly gave chase to the vessel that quietly awaited their approach, as astonished at the attack as a swallow would be if it were pursued by a gnat. receiving one flaming broadside, noisy but harmless, the half-stripped rovers instantly threw themselves on board, but were repulsed by the spaniards, who were numerous, hopeful, and brave. returning to their vessel and throwing down their cutlass for the musket, they kept up a close fire of small arms for five hours without ceasing. every gunner and every reefer was picked off, the decks were red, the return fire grew slack as the defence grew weaker, and the foe's proud courage cooled; the buccaneers again threw themselves on board, and made themselves masters of the ship, with the loss of only ten men and four wounded. they had now only fifteen men left to navigate a vessel containing nearly forty prisoners. this number was all that were left alive, and of these many were maimed with shot wounds or gashed with sword cuts. the conquerors' first act was to throw the dead overboard, officer and sailor, just as they fell, stripping off the jewels and ransacking pockets for the dead men's doubloons. the living spaniards, wounded and dying, they drove into one small boat, and gave them their liberty, afraid to keep them as prisoners and unwilling to shed their blood. they then set to work to splice the rigging and piece the sails, and lastly, to rummage for the plunder. they found the value of their prize to be , crowns, besides , pounds of cocoa, worth about additional. having refitted the shattered vessel, they would have sailed round the island of jamaica, but a contrary wind and current obliged them to steer to cape st. anthony, the west extremity of cuba, where they landed and took in water, of which they were in great want. they had scarcely hoisted sail to resume their course, probably intending to return to port to sell their spoil before starting afresh, when they unexpectedly fell upon three large vessels coming from new spain to the havannah, who gave chase, as certain of victory as three greyhounds bounding after a single hare. the flibustiers, heavy laden with plunder, and unable to make way, were almost instantly retaken, falling as easy a prey as a gorged wolf does to the hunter. in a few hours the buccaneers were under hatches, stripped of even their very clothes, and counting the moments before execution--the puritan doling out his hymns, the catholic muttering his miserere, and the rude cow-killer vowing vengeance if he could but escape. two evenings after a storm arose and separated the leash of armed merchantmen. the vessel containing the luckless portugues arrived first at st. francisco, campeachy. barthelemy, who spoke spanish, had been well treated by the captain, who did not know what a prize he had taken. the news of the capture soon ran through the town, the captain became a public man, the bells rang, the people flocked to see the caged lions, and the principal merchants of the place crowded to congratulate him on his success. among the curious and timid visitors was one who recognised barthelemy, in spite of all his oaths and denials, and demanded his surrender. no hate can match the hate of injured avarice and frustrated cupidity. "this is barthelemy the portuguese," he told every one, "the most wicked rascal in the world, and who has done more harm to spanish commerce than all the other pirates put together." he ran everywhere and declared they had at last got hold of the man so famous for the many insolences, robberies, and murders he had committed on their coast, and by whose cruel hands many of their kinsmen had perished. the captain, rather distrustful--somewhat favourable to barthelemy, perhaps, considering him as a brother seaman, worth any ten land-lubbers, and annoyed at the arrogance of the merchant's demand--refused to surrender the portuguese, or to send him on shore. the enraged merchant upon this proceeded to the governor, who, listening to his complaint, sent to demand the buccaneers in the king's name. he was instantly arrested, spite of the captain's entreaties, and placed on board another vessel, heavily ironed, for fear he should escape, as he had done on a former occasion. a gibbet was erected, and the next day it was resolved to lead him at once from his cabin to the place of execution, without the hypocritical and useless ceremony of even a prejudged trial. for some time portugues remained uncertain of his fate, till a spanish sailor (for he seems to have had the power of winning friends) told him that the gibbet was already putting together, and the rope was ready noosed. in that delay was his safety; that very night he resolved to escape, or perish by a quicker or less disgraceful death. no doubt, with that strange mixture of religion remaining in the minds of most buccaneers, he prayed to god or the saints to aid him. he soon freed himself from his irons. discovering in his cabin two of those large earthen jars in which wine was brought from spain to the indies, he closed over the orifices, and hung them to his side with cords, being probably unable to swim, and the distance too far to the shore. finding that he could not elude the vigilance of the sleepless sentinel that paced at his door, he stabbed him with a knife he had secretly purchased, and let himself noiselessly down, from the mainchains into the water, floating to land without the splash that a swimmer would have made in still water. once on land he concealed himself in a wood, prepared to bear any danger, and glad at heart to endure starvation rather than suffer a public and shameful death. he was too cunning to set off at once on a route that would be explored, but hid himself among trees half covered with water, in order to prevent the possibility of his being tracked by the maroon bloodhounds--a common stratagem with the moss-troopers, who found the sound of running water drown the noise of their movements and the murmur of their breathing, and destroy all traces of their track. bruce and wallace had long before escaped by the artifice that now saved a robber and a murderer. his must have been anxious nights, varied by the shouts of negroes, the deep bay of the dogs, the oaths of the spaniards, the discharge of fire-arms, the toll of the alarm bell, the glare of beacons; and the flash of torches. for these three days he lived on yams and other roots growing around him. from a tree in which he sometimes harboured he had the satisfaction of seeing his pursuers search the wood in vain, and finally relinquish the pursuit. believing that the danger had now in some degree decreased, the lion-hearted sailor determined to push for the golpho triste, forty leagues distant, where he hoped to find a buccaneer ship careening. he arrived there after fourteen days of incredible endurance. he started in the evening from the seashore, within sight of the lit-up town where a black gibbet was still standing bodingly against the sky. his forced marches were full of terrible dangers and perils. he had no provisions with him, and nothing but a small calabash of water hung at his side. hunger and thirst strode beside him, the wild beast glared in his path, the spanish voices seemed to pursue him. his subsistence was the raw shell-fish that he found washed among the rocks upon the shore, fresh or putrid he had no time to consider. he had streams to ford, dark with caymans, and he had to traverse woods where the jaguars howled. whenever he came to a stream unusually dark, deep, and dangerous, and where no ford was visible (for he could not swim), he threw in large stones as he waded to scare away the crocodiles that lurked round the shallows. in one spot he travelled five or six leagues swinging like a sloth from bough to bough of a pathless wood of mangroves, never once setting foot upon the ground. his day's progress was often scarcely perceptible. at one river more than usually deep he found an old plank, which had drifted ashore when the seaman was washed off, and from this he obtained some large rusty nails. extracting these nails, he sharpened them on a stone with great labour, and used them to cut down some branches of trees, which he joined together with osiers and pliable twigs, and slowly constructed a raft. hunger, thirst, heat, and fear beset him round; and the voice of the sea, always on his right hand, came to him like the hungry howl of death. in these fourteen nights he must have literally tasted death, and anticipated the horrors of hell. "fortune favors the brave." he found a buccaneer vessel in the gulf, and he was saved. the crew were old companions of his, newly arrived from jamaica and from england. he related to them his adversities and his misfortunes. all listened eagerly to adventures that might to-morrow be their own. he thought alone of revenge, and told them that if they chose he would give them a ship worth a whole fleet of their canoes. he desired their help. he only asked for one boat and thirty men. with these he promised to return to campeachy and capture the vessel that had taken him but fourteen days before. they soon granted his request, the boat was at once equipped, and he sailed along the coast, passing for a smuggler bringing contraband goods. in eight days he arrived at campeachy, undauntedly and without noise boarding the vessel at midnight. they were challenged by the sentinel. barthelemy, who spoke good spanish, replied, in a low voice, "we are part of the crew returning with goods from land, on which no duty has been paid." the sentinel, hoping for a share, or at least some hush-money, did not repeat the question. allowing him no time to detect the trick, they stabbed him, and, rushing forward, overpowered the watch. cutting the cable, they surprised the sleepers in their cabins, and, weighing anchor, soon compelled the spaniards, by a resolute attack, to surrender; and, setting sail from the port, rejoined their exulting comrades, unpursued by any vessel. great was the joy of the adventurers in becoming possessors of so brave a ship. portugues was now again rich and powerful, though but lately a condemned prisoner in the very vessel upon whose deck he now stood the lord of all. with this cargo of rich merchandise barthelemy intended to achieve enterprises, for though the spaniards' plate had been all disembarked at campeachy, the booty was still large. but let no hunter halloo till he is out of the wood, and no sailor laugh till he gets into port. while he was making his voyage to jamaica, and already counting his profits as certain, a terrible storm arose off the isle of pinos, on the south of cuba, which drove his prize against the jardine rocks, where she went to pieces. portugues and his companions escaped in a canoe to jamaica, and before long started on new adventures. what eventually became of him we know not, but we are told that "he was never fortunate after." whether he swung on the campeachy gibbet after all, became a prey to the darien man-eater, was pierced by the greek bullet, or was devoured by the sea, long expecting its victim, we shall never know. he sails away from kingston with colours flying, and wanders away into unknown deeps. of this wild man's end nothing was ever known. he was living at jamaica when esquemeling left for england. his bones, perhaps, still whiten on some indian bay, with the sea moaning around that nameless dust for ever--doomed to destroy man, but lamenting the very desolation it occasions. this roche braziliano (or roc, the brazilian, as the english adventurers called him,) was born at groninghen, in east friezeland; and his own name being forgotten, he was called the brazilian, because his parents had been dutch settlers in the brazils. roche was taught the indian and portuguese languages at an early age, and, when the latter nation retook the brazils, removed with his parents to the french antilles, where he learned french. disliking the nation, he passed into jamaica. here he learned to speak english, and, settling among our more congenial race, became attached to the country of his adoption. but he had lingered too long in the desert to have much taste for even goshen. he had already acquired the arab's love for wandering, and poverty combined to lead him into an adventurer's ship. into this mode of life all restless talent and love of enterprise was now driven. after only three voyages, roche became commander of a brig whose crew had mutinied from their captain and offered him the command. in a few days, this almost untried man had the good fortune to capture a large vessel coming from new spain with a great quantity of plate on board. on his arrival in jamaica, roc became at once the acknowledged leader of all the vikinger of the spanish main--their first sailor, their hero, and their model. he soon grew so terrible that the spanish mothers used his name as a hushword to their children. roc is described as having a stalwart and vigorous body. he was of ordinary height, but stout and muscular. his face was wide and short, his cheek-bones prominent, and his eyebrows bushy and of unusual size. he was skilful in the use of all indian and catholic (spanish) arms, a good hunter, a good fisherman, and a good shot--as skilful a pilot as he was a brave soldier. he generally carried a naked sabre resting on his arm, and made no scruple of cutting down any of his crew who were idle, mutinous, or cowardly. he was much dreaded even in jamaica, and particularly when drunk, says his candid biographer. at those times he would frequently run a-muck through the streets, beating and wounding any one he met, especially if they dared to oppose or resist him. in his sober moments he was esteemed and feared, but he too often abandoned himself to every sort of debauchery. in roc we see the first indication of a new phase of buccaneering life--_a fanatical hatred of the spaniard_. the sailor, at first a mere privateersman at sea, and a hunter on shore, was now a legal robber, with a spice of the crusader: a chivalrous vendetta feeling had become superadded to the mere love of booty. a thirst for gold had proved irresistible: what would it be now when it became heightened by a thirst for blood? to the spaniards roc was always very barbarous and cruel, out of an inveterate hatred to that nation. he seldom gave them quarter, and treated them with untiring ferocity. he taxed his invention for new modes of torture, revenging upon them by a rather indirect mode of retaliation the wrongs inflicted upon his parents by the portuguese. he is said to have even roasted alive some of his prisoners on wooden spits, like boucaned boars, because they refused to disclose the hog-yards where he might victual his ships. by the spaniards he was reported to be really an apostate outlaw of their own nation, this being the only way in which they could account for his needless and useless cruelties. on one occasion, as he was cruising on the coast of campeachy, a dismal tempest, says the chronicler, "surprised him so violently" that his ship was wrecked, himself and his crew only escaping with their muskets, a little powder, and a few bullets, much more useful, however, than gold on such a coast. they reached shore not far from golpho triste, the scene of barthelemy's escape. roc was not the man to be cast down by an accident no more regarded by true adventurers than the upsetting of a coach by an ordinary traveller. getting ashore in a canoe, he determined to march quickly along the coast, and repair to the gulf, a well-known haunt of the members of their craft. roc bade his men be of good heart, and he would bring them safe out of every danger, and, giving them hope, the promise was already half accomplished. getting on the main road, they proceeded on their march through a hostile country, with the air of men who had conquered the whole indies. they had already reached a desert track, and were grown fatigued, hungry, and thirsty, when some indians gave the alarm, and the spaniards were soon down upon them, to the number of one hundred well-armed and well-mounted horsemen, while the buccaneers were but thirty men. as soon as roc saw the enemy, the brazilian cried out, "courage, _mes frères_, we are hungry now, but, caramba, you shall soon have a dinner if you follow me," and then, perceiving the imminent danger, he encouraged his men, telling them they were better soldiers than the spaniards, and that they ought rather to die fighting under their arms as became men of courage, than to surrender, and have their lives pressed out by the extremest torments. seeing their commander's courage, the wrecked men resolved to attack, instead of waiting tamely for the enemy's approach, and, facing the spaniards, they at once discharged their guns so dexterously, that they killed a horseman with almost every shot. after an hour's hot fighting, the spaniards fled. the adventurers lost only two men, two more being lamed. stripping the dead, they took from them every valuable, and despatched the wounded with the butt-end of their muskets. they then feasted on the wine and brandy they found in their knapsacks, or at their saddle bows, and declared themselves ready to attack as many again; and having finished their meal, they mounted on the stray horses, and proceeded on their march. the victors had not gone more than two days' journey before they caught sight of a well-manned spanish vessel, lying off the shore beneath. it had come to protect the boats which landed the men who cut the campeachy dyewood. roc saw that the poultry-yard knew nothing of the kite that was hovering near. he instantly concealed his band, and went with six comerades into a thicket near the beach to watch. here they passed the night. at daybreak the spaniards, pulling to shore in their canoe, were received in a courteous but unexpected manner by the buccaneers. roc instantly summoned his men, boarded and took the vessel. the little man-of-war contained little plate, but, what was of equal use, two hundred weight of salt, with which he salted down a few of the horses which he killed. the remaining horses he gave to his spanish prisoners, telling them laughingly, that the beasts were worth more than the vessel, and that once on their backs on dry land no rascal need fear drowning. a buccaneer's first thought on obtaining one prize was to gain another as soon as possible. roc had still twenty-six man by him, and a good vessel to move in. he soon took a ship, bound to maracaibo from new spain, laden with merchandise and money designed to buy a cargo of cocoa-nuts. with this they repaired to jamaica, letting the vessel scorch in harbour till their money was all gone. having spent all, braziliano put out to sea again, impatient of poverty and resolved to trust to fortune, for he was her favourite child. he sailed for the rendezvous at campeachy, and after fifteen days started in a canoe to hover round the port, beating about like a hawk in search of prey. he was soon after captured and taken with his men before a spanish governor, who cast them into a dungeon, intending to hang them every one. but fortune only hid her smiles for a moment, and had not deserted him. roc, as subtle as he was intrepid, had not yet exhausted his wiles. he was at bay and the dogs were gathered round, but they had not yet got him by the throat. he made friends with the slave who brought him food, and promised to give him money to buy his freedom if he would aid his scheme. he did not wish to compromise the slave: he only wished him to be the bearer of a letter to the governor. the slave told the governor that he had been put on shore in the bay by some buccaneers and had been ordered to deliver the letter. the letter was an angry threat, supposed to be indited by the captain of a french vessel lying in the offing. it advised the governor "to have a care how he used those persons he had in his custody, for in case he should do them any harm, they did swear unto him, they would never give quarter unto any person of the spanish nation that should fall into their hands." the governor, lifting up his eyes and twisting his moustachios at the threat, was intimidated, and became anxious to get rid as soon as possible of such dangerous prisoners, for campeachy had already been taken once by the adventurers, and he feared what mischief the companions who visited spanish towns might do. he began now to treat his prisoners with greater kindness, and on the first opportunity sent for them, and, exacting a simple oath that they would abandon piracy, shipped them on board the galleon fleet bound for spain. roc, with his usual versatility, soon made himself so much beloved that the spanish captain offered to take him as a sailor, and he accepted the offer. during this single voyage to spain he made a sum of no less than crowns by selling the officers fish that he struck in the indian manner with arrows and harpoons from the main-chains. his comerades, whom he never forgot, were treated with consideration on his account. on his arrival in spain, roc, in spite of his oath, which had been exacted by fear of death, and therefore absolvable by any priest, lost no time in getting back to jamaica, where he arrived without a vessel to call his own, but in other respects in better circumstances than when he left. he joined himself at once to two french adventurers. the chief of these, named tributor, was an old buccaneer of great experience. they determined to land upon the peninsula of yucatan, in hopes of taking the town of merida. roc, who had been there before as a prisoner, and had doubtless proposed the scheme, served as guide, but some indians got upon their trail and alarmed the spaniards, who fortified the place and prepared for an attack. on the buccaneers' arrival they found the town well garrisoned and defended, and while they were still debating whether to advance or retreat, the question was abruptly decided for them by a body of the enemy's horsemen who fell upon their rear, cut half of them to pieces, and made the rest prisoners. the wily roc, never taken much by surprise, contrived to escape, but old tributor and his men were all captured. oexmelin expresses his wonder at roc's escape, because he had always held it vile cowardliness to allow another man to strike before himself. "hitherto he had been the last to yield, even when he was overborne by enemies, and had been heard to say that he preferred death to dishonour." _nemo mortalium_, &c. chapter v. lolonnois the cruel. lolonnois--his stratagem--his cruelty--his partner, michael le basque--takes maracaibo--tortures the citizens--sacks the town--takes gibraltar--attempt on merida--famine and pestilence--division of spoil--takes st. pedro--burns veragua--wrecked in honduras--attacked by indians--killed and eaten by the savages. the spanish ships now decreased in number, merchants relinquishing a trade so uncertain and perilous. the consequence of this was that the buccaneers, finding their sea cruises grow less profitable, began to venture upon the mainland, and attack towns and even cities. the first buccaneer who distinguished himself in this wider field of action was francis lolonnois. he was born among the sands of olonne, in poictou, and drew his _nom de guerre_ from that wild and fitting birthplace. he quitted france in early life, and embarked at rochelle as an _engagé_ for the caribbean islands, where he served the customary slavery of three years. having heard much during this servitude of the hunters of hispaniola, he sailed for that island as soon as his apprenticeship had expired, and he was again a free adventurer. he first bound himself as a valet to a hunter, and finally became himself a buccaneer, having now passed through all the usual experiences of a young west indian colonist. spending some time upon the savannahs, he became restless and tired of shore, and desirous of enlisting as a freebooter under the red flag. repairing to tortuga, the head-quarters of flibustier enterprise, he enrolled himself among the rovers of the sea, with whom he made many voyages as simple mariner or companion. from the first day he trod plank he is said to have shown himself destined to attain high distinction, surpassing all the "brothers" in adroitness, agility, and daring. in these floating republics talent soon rose to the surface. lolonnois was elected master of a vessel, with which he took many prizes, but at last lost everything by a storm which wrecked his ship, drowned his men, sank his cargo, and cast him bleeding and naked upon a savage shore. his courage and conduct, however, had won the admiration of the governor of tortuga, m. de la place, whose island he had enriched by the frequent sale of prizes, and who launched him again in a new ship to encounter once more all the fury of the sea, the hurricane, and the spaniard. fortune was at first favourable to him, and he acquired great riches. his name became so dreaded by the indians and the spaniards that they chose rather to die or drown than surrender to one who never knew the word mercy. he never learned how to chain fortune to his mast, and was soon a second time wrecked at campeachy. the men were all saved, but on reaching land were pursued and killed by the spaniards. lolonnois, himself severely wounded, saved his life by a stratagem. mixing the sand of the shore with the blood flowing from his wounds, he smeared his face and body, and hid himself dexterously under a heap of dead, remaining there till the spaniards had carried off one or two of his less severely wounded companions into campeachy. as soon as they were gone he arose with a grim smile from his lurking place among the slain, and betook himself to the woods. he then washed his now stiffened wounds in a river, and bound up his gashes as he could. as soon as they were healed (the flesh of these men soon healed), he put on the dress of a slain spaniard, and made his way boldly into the neighbouring city. in the suburbs he entered into conversation with some slaves he met, whom he bribed by an offer of freedom if they would obey him and follow his guidance. they listened to his proposal, and, stealing their master's canoe, brought it to the sea-shore, where lolonnois lay concealed. but before this the disguised buccaneer had gone rambling fearlessly through the enemy's town, witnessing the rejoicings made at his own supposed death; for his companions, who were kept close prisoners in a dungeon, had been asked what had become of their captain, to which they had always replied that he was dead, upon which the spaniards lit up bonfires in their open squares, thanking god for their deliverance from so cruel a pirate. the flames of these fires were red upon the bay when lolonnois and the slaves pushed off their canoe and made haste to escape. they reached tortuga in safety, and lolonnois kept his promise, and set the slaves at liberty--although, if he had been base and worthless enough, he could have refitted his boat with the profits of their sale. he now thought only of revenging himself on the spaniards for their cruelty in murdering the survivors of a wreck. he spent whole days in considering how he could capture a vessel and restore himself to his former reputation for skill and fortune. by some extraordinary plan, esquemeling--who writes always with affected horror of the men amongst whom he lived--says, with "craft and subtlety," he soon obtained a third ship, with a crew of twenty-one men and a surgeon. being well provided with arms and necessaries--how provided by a penniless man it is impossible to guess--he resolved to visit de los cayos, a village on the south side of cuba, where he knew vessels from the havannah passed to the port of boca de estera, where they purchase tobacco, sugar, and hides, coming generally in small boats, for the sea ran very shallow. at this place meat was also obtained to victual the spanish fleets. here lolonnois was very sanguine of booty, but some fishermen's boats, observing him, alarmed the town. one of these canoes they captured, and, placing in it a crew of eleven men, proceeded to coast about the bayes du nord. the buccaneers kept at some distance from each other, in hopes of sooner surrounding their prey, for each of their crews was strong enough to capture any merchant vessel that had not more than fifteen or sixteen unarmed men on board. they remained some months beating off and on cuba, but caught nothing, although this was the very height of the commercial season. after a long delay of wonder and vexation, they learned the cause of their failure from the crew of a fishing-boat which they captured, who told them that the people of cayos would not venture to sea because they knew that they were there. it would be dangerous for them to remain, they added, for the chief merchants of the port had instantly despatched a "vessel overland" to the governor of havannah, telling him that lolonnois had come in two canoes to destroy them, and begging him to send and destroy the "ladrones." the governor could with difficulty at first be persuaded to listen to the petition, because he had just received letters from campeachy bidding him rejoice at the death of that pirate; but, aroused by the continued importunities of his angry petitioners, he at last sent a ship to their relief. this ship carried ten guns, and had a crew of ninety young, vigorous, and well-armed men, to whom he gave at parting an express command that they should not return into his presence without having first destroyed those pirates. he sent with them a negro hangman, desiring him to kill on the spot all they should take, except lolonnois, the captain, who was to be brought alive in triumph to the havannah. the ship had scarcely arrived at cayos when the pirate, advertised of its approach, came to seek it at its moorings in the river estera. lolonnois cried out, when he saw it loom in the distance, "courage, mes camarades! courage, mes bons frères! we shall soon be well mounted." capturing some fishermen busy with their nets, he forced them at night to show him the entrance of the port. rowing very quietly in the shadow of the trees that bordered the river's banks and hid their approach, they arrived under the vessel's side a little after two o'clock in the morning--not long before daybreak. the watch on board the ship hailed them, and asked them whence they came and if they had seen any pirates? they made one of the fishermen who guided them reply in spanish that they had seen no pirates or anything else; and this made the spaniards believe that lolonnois had fled at their approach. the buccaneers instantly began to open fire on both sides from their canoes. the spaniards, who kept good guard, returned the fire, but without much effect, for their enemies lay down flat in their boats, and the trees served them as gabions. the spaniards fought bravely, in spite of the suddenness and vigour of the attack, and made some use of their great guns. the combat lasted from dawn till midday, the crew of the vessel discharging ineffectual volleys of musketry, which seldom injured the assailants, whose bullets, on the other hand, killed or wounded every moment some of the havannah youth. when the firing began to slacken, lolonnois pulled his canoes out into the stream, and boarded the vessel, which almost instantly surrendered. those who survived were beaten down under the hatches, while the wounded on the decks received the _coup de grace_. when this had been done, lolonnois commanded his men to bring up the prisoners one by one from the hold, cutting off their heads as they came up with his own hand, and tasting their blood. the negro hangman, seeing the fate of his predecessors, threw himself passionately at the feet of the buccaneer chief, and exclaimed in spanish, "if you will not kill me i will tell you the truth." lolonnois, supposing he had some secret to tell, bade him speak on. but he refused to open his lips further till life were promised him; upon the promise being made, the trembling wretch exclaimed, "senor capitan, monsieur, the governor of the havannah, not doubting but that this well-armed frigate would have taken the strongest of your vessels, sent me on board to serve as executioner, and to hang all the prisoners that his men took, in order to intimidate your nation, so that they should not dare ever to approach a spanish vessel." esquemeling, who always exaggerates the cruelty of his quondam companions, says, lolonnois, making the black confess what he thought fit, commanded him to be murdered with the rest; but oexmelin gives a more probable version. at the negro's mention of his being a hangman he grew furious, and but for his words, "i give thee quarter and even liberty because i promised it thee," would certainly have put him to death. he then slew all the rest of the crew but one man, whom he spared in order to send him back with a letter to the governor of the havannah. the letter ran thus: "i have returned your kindness by doing to your men what they designed to do to me and my companions. i shall never henceforward give quarter to any spaniard whatsoever, and i have great hopes of executing upon your own person the very same punishment i have done upon those you sent against me. it would be better for you to cut your throat than to fall into my power." the governor, enraged at the loss of his ship and crew, and exasperated by the insolent daring of the letter, swore in the presence of many that he would not grant quarter to any pirate who fell into his hands. furious that two canoes, with twenty-two half-naked men, should be able to deride the might of spain in his person, he instantly sent round word to the neighbouring indian forts to hang all their french and english prisoners, instead of, as usual, embarking them for spain. the citizens of havannah, hearing of this imprudent bravado, sent a deputation to the governor to represent to him that, for one englishman or frenchman that the spaniards captured, the buccaneers took every day a hundred of their people, that the men of havannah were obliged to get their living by trading, that life was far dearer to them than mere money, which was all the buccaneers wanted; and lastly, that all their fishermen would be daily exposed to danger, the buccaneers having frequent opportunity for reprisal. upon this the angry governor was at last persuaded to bridle his passion and remit the severity of his oath. lolonnois, now provided with a good ship, resolved to cruise from port to port to obtain provisions and men. off maracaibo he surprised a ship laden with plate, outward-bound to buy cocoa-nuts, and with this prize returned to tortuga, much to his own satisfaction and the general joy of that strange colony of runaway slaves, disbanded soldiers, hunters, privateersmen, pirates, puritans, and papists. he had not been long in port before he planned an expedition to maracaibo, joining another adventurer in equipping a body of five hundred men. in tortuga he found prisoners for guides, and disbanded adventurers resolute enough to be his companions. his partner was michael le basque, a buccaneer who had retired very rich, and was now major of the island. he had done great actions in europe, and bore the repute of being a good soldier. lolonnois was to rule by sea and le basque by land. le basque knew all the avenues of maracaibo, and had lately taken in a prize two indians, who knew the port well and offered to act both as pilots and guides. le basque had consented to join lolonnois, struck by the daring and comprehension of his plans, and lolonnois was overjoyed at the alliance of so tried a man. notice was instantly given to all the unemployed buccaneers that they were planning a great expedition with much chance of booty. all who were willing to join them were to come by a certain day to the rendezvous either at tortuga or bayala, on the north side of hispaniola; at the latter place he revictualled his fleet, took some french hunters as volunteers into his company, careened his vessels, and procured beef and pork by the chase. his fleet consisted of eight small ships, of which his own, the largest, carried only twenty pieces of cannon; his crews amounted altogether to about four hundred men. setting sail from bayala the last day in july, while doubling ponta del espada (sword point), the eastern cape of hispaniola, lolonnois overtook two spanish vessels coming from porto rico to new spain, and one of these lolonnois insisted on capturing with his own hand, sending in his fleet to savona. the spaniards, although they had an opportunity for two whole hours, refused to fly, and, being well armed, prepared for a desperate resistance; the combat lasted for three hours. the ship carried sixteen guns, and was manned by fifty fighting men. they found in her a cargo of , pounds' weight of cocoa, , pieces of eight, and the value of , more in jewels. lolonnois instantly sent this prize back to tortuga to be unloaded, with orders to return to the rendezvous at savona. on their way to this place, his vanguard had also been in luck, having met with a spanish vessel bringing military stores and money from cumana for the garrisons of hispaniola. in this vessel, which they took without any resistance, though armed with eight guns, they found , pounds' weight of powder, a great number of muskets and other arms, together with , pieces of eight. these successes encouraged the adventurers, and to superstitious men seemed like promises of good fortune and success. the generosity of the governor of tortuga also tended to heighten their spirits. m. d'ogeron, the french governor, had been greatly delighted at the early arrival of so rich a prize, worth, at the lowest calculation, , livres, and threw open all his store-houses for the use of the prize crew. ordering her to be quickly unloaded, he sent her back to lolonnois full of provisions and necessaries. many persons who had come from france with the governor now joined an expedition which had begun so auspiciously, desirous of gaining a fortune with the same rapidity as the older colonists. by hazarding a little money a planter could obtain a chance of sharing in the plunder of a distant city without moving from under the shadow of his tamarind tree, and the governor's approval threw an air of legal government patronage over the expedition. d'ogeron even sent his two nephews on board, young gallants newly arrived from france, and one of whom afterwards ruled the island in the room of his uncle. with a fleet recruited with men in room of those killed by the fever or the spaniards, and full of hope and spirits, lolonnois sailed for maracaibo. his own vessel he gave to his comrade anthony du puis, and went himself on board the _cacaoyere_, as the largest prize was called. before sailing, he reviewed his little invincible armada. his own new frigate carried sixteen guns and men. his vice-admiral, moses vauclin, had ten guns and ninety men; and his _matelot_, le basque, sailed in a vessel called _la poudrière_, because it contained all the powder, the ammunition, and the money for the sailors' pay. it carried twenty pieces of cannon and ninety men. pierre le picard steered a brigantine with forty men. moses had equipped another of the same size, and the two other smaller vessels were each managed by a crew of thirty men. every sailor was armed with a good musket, a brace of pistols, and a strong sabre. at this review lolonnois first disclosed his whole plan, which was to visit maracaibo, in the province of new venezuela, and to pillage all the towns that border the lake. he then produced his guides, one of whom had been a pilot over the bar at maracaibo, and who vouched for the ease with which the attack could be made. shouts and clamour announced the universal satisfaction at the proposal. they all agreed to follow him, and took an oath that they would obey him implicitly on the penalty of being mulcted of their booty. the usual _chasse-partie_, or buccaneers' agreement, was then drawn up, specifying the exact share that each one should receive of the spoil, from the captain down to the boys of the ships, and not forgetting the wounded and the guides. venezuela, or "little venice," derived its name from its being very low land, and only preserved from frequent inundation by artificial means. at six or seven leagues' distance from the bay of maracaibo, or gulf of venezuela, are two small islands--the island of the watch tower and the island of the pigeons. between these two islands runs a channel of fresh water--as wide across as an eight-pound shot can carry, about sixty leagues long, and thirty broad--which empties itself into the sea. on the isla de las vigilias stood a hill surmounted by a watch-tower; on the isla de las palombas a fort to impede the entrance of vessels, which were obliged to come very near, the channel being narrowed by two sand-banks, which left only fourteen feet water. the sand-drifts were very numerous; some of them, particularly one called el tablazo, not having more than six feet water. "west hereof," says esquemeling--for we must describe the past, not the present city--"is the city of maracaibo, very pleasant to the view, its houses being built along the shore, having delightful prospects all round. the city may contain three or four thousand persons, slaves included, all which make a town of reasonable bigness. there are judged to be about persons able to bear arms, all spaniards. here are one parish church, well built and adorned, four monasteries, and one hospital. the city is governed by a deputy-governor, substituted by the governor of the caraccas. the trade here exercised is mostly in hides and tobacco. the inhabitants possess great numbers of cattle and many plantations, which extend thirty leagues in the country, especially towards the great town of gibraltar, where are gathered great quantities of cocoa nuts, and all other garden fruits, which serve for the regale and sustenance of the inhabitants of maracaibo, whose territories are much drier than those of gibraltar. hither those of maracaibo send great quantities of flesh, they making returns in oranges, lemons, and other fruits; for the inhabitants of gibraltar want flesh, not being capable of feeding cows and sheep." the inner lake within the great bar, so difficult to cross, was fed by upwards of seventy streams, of which several were navigable. the two capes on either side of the gulf were named respectively cape st. roman and the cape of caquibacoa. the east side, though frequently flooded, was unhealthy, but very fertile, something resembling the maremma, where, according to an italian proverb, a man gets rich in six months and dies in seven. in the bay itself, ten or twelve leagues from the lake, are the two islands of onega and las monges. on the east side, near the _embouchure_, there was a fishermen's village called barbacoa, where the indians lived in trees to escape the floods; for, after great rains, the lands were often overflowed in broad tracts of two or three leagues. a few miles from this was the town of gibraltar, where the best cocoa in the indies was grown, as well as the celebrated "priests' tobacco." beyond this twenty leagues of jurisdiction, rose mountains perpetually covered with snow, contrasting remarkably with the swampy fields and the rich tropical vegetation of the well-irrigated district below. on the other side of these mountains lay the mother city of merida, between which, during the summer alone, mules carried merchandise to gibraltar; the cocoa and tobacco of merida being exchanged for peruvian flour and the fruits of gibraltar. near this latter town were rich plantations and wooded districts, abounding with the tall cedars from which the indians scooped out solid _piraguas_, or canoes, capable of carrying thirty tons, which were rigged with one large sail. the territory of gibraltar was flat, and naturally fertile, watered by rivers and brooks, besides being artificially irrigated by small channels, necessary in the frequent droughts. everything desirable for food and pleasant to the sight grew here in abundance, the air was filled with birds as beautiful as wandering blossoms, and the rivers teemed with many-coloured fish. but into this indian paradise death had entered, and these swamps were the lairs of the deadliest fevers that devastate humanity. in the rainy season the merchants left gibraltar, just as the rich do rome, and retired to merida or maracaibo to escape the pestilence that walked not merely in darkness but even in the bright noon. at six leagues from this town and its , inhabitants, ran a river navigable by vessels of fifty tons' burthen. maracaibo itself had a spacious and secure port, and was well adapted for building vessels, owing to the abundance of timber in the neighbourhood. in the small island of borrica were fed great numbers of goats, which were bred chiefly for their skins. in curious contradistinction to all this bustle of commerce, life, and wealth, on the south-east border of the lake lived the bravo-indians, a savage race, who had never been subdued by the spaniard. they also, like the fishermen, dwelt in huts built in the branches of the mangrove trees at the very edge of the water, safe from the floods, and from the equally annoying, though less fatal, visitation of the mosquitoes. beyond them to the west spread a dry and arid country--where nothing but cacti and stunted, bitter shrubs grew, so thorny as to be almost impassable by the traveller--waste and barren. here the spaniards pastured a few flocks, and the only houses were the huts of the armed shepherds who tended the lonely herds. these cattle were killed chiefly for their fat and hides, the flesh being left for the flocks of merchant birds--a sort of vulture, four or five of whom would pick an ox to the bone in a day or two. lolonnois, arriving at one of the islands in the gulf, landed and took in provisions, not wishing to arrive at the bar till daybreak, in hopes of surprising the fort; and anchoring, out of sight of the watch-tower weighed anchor in the evening from the island of onega, and sailed all night, but was seen by the sentinels, who immediately made signals to the fort, which discharged its cannon and announced the approach of an enemy. mooring off the bar, lolonnois lost no time in landing to attack the fort that guarded the very door through which he must pass. the batteries consisted of simple gabions or baskets masked with turf, and concealing fourteen pieces of cannon and men, with flanking earthworks thrown up to protect the gunners. lolonnois and le basque landed at a league from the fort, and advanced at the head of their men. the governor, seeing them land, had prepared an ambuscade, in hopes of attacking them at the same time in flank and rear. the buccaneers, discovering this, got before the spaniards, and routed them so utterly that not a single man returned to the fort, which was instantly attacked "with the usual desperation of this sort of people," says esquemeling. the fighting continued for three hours. the buccaneers, aiming with hunters' precision, killed so many of the spaniards, and reduced their numbers so terribly, that the survivors could not prevent the savage swordsmen storming the embrasures, slaying half the survivors, and taking the rest prisoners. a few survivors are said by one writer to have fled in confusion into maracaibo, crying, "the pirates will presently be here with , men." the rest of the day lolonnois spent in destroying the fort he had captured, first signalling his ships to come in as the danger was over. his men levelled the earth ramparts, spiked the guns, buried the dead, and sent the wounded on board the fleet. the next day, very early in the morning, the ships weighed anchor and directed their course, in close-winged phalanx, like a flock of locusts, towards the doomed city of maracaibo, now only six leagues distant. they made but slow way, in spite of all their impatience, for there was very little wind; and it was not till the next morning that they drew in sight of the town, standing pleasantly on the cool shore, with its galleries of shaded balconies, its towers and steeples--the goal to which they steered. suspicious of ambuscades after the danger at the bar, lolonnois put his men into canoes, and pulled to shore under protection of salvos from his great guns, which he ordered to be pointed at the woods which lined the beach. half the men went in the canoes, and half remained on board; but these furious discharges were thrown away, the spaniards having long since fled. to their great astonishment, the town itself was deserted. the people, remembering the horrors of a former buccaneer descent, when maracaibo had been "sacked to the uttermost," had escaped to gibraltar in their boats and canoes, taking with them all the jewels and money they could carry. to the alarmed friends who received them, they said that the fort of the bar had been taken, and nothing been saved, nor any soldiers escaped. at gibraltar they believed themselves safe, thinking the buccaneers would pillage the unfortunate and defenceless town and then retreat over the bar. the hungry sailors, who had lived scantily for four weeks, found the deserted houses well provided with flour, bread, pork, poultry, and brandy, and with these they made good cheer. the warehouses were brimming with merchandise, the cellars were flowing with spanish wine. the more prudent fell to plunder, the more thoughtless to revel. the former class probably embraced the older, and the latter the younger men. each party abused the vice from which he abstained, and gave himself up without scruple to his own more favourite indulgence. but soon the man weary of wine began to plunder, and the man loaded with pieces of eight began to drink. the moment that plunder ceased, waste began, and prudence and folly alike ended the day,--poor and drunk. the commanders at once seized on the best houses, indulging their natural love of order and justice, by placing sentinels at the larger shops and warehouses. the great monastery of the cordeliers served them as a guard-house, for a long time the abode of thieves, yet never so manifestly as now; for a long time the shrine of mammon, yet now for the first time filled by his avowed worshippers. had the town not been deserted, that night would have heard the groans of the victim of cruelty; as it was, it echoed only with the songs and shouts of debauchery. the buccaneer had reached his capua, but there were no judiths ready to slay these holofernes in their drunken sleep. perhaps a night surprise would have failed. these men were still the vigilant hunters and the watchful sailors; sunken rocks and lurking spaniards, breakers and wild bulls, reefs and wild panthers had taught them never to sleep unguarded and unwatched. the next day a fresh source of plunder was opened. lolonnois--for le basque's command, even by land, seems to have been secondary--sent a body of men to reconnoitre the neighbouring woods, where some of the inhabitants were, it was supposed, concealed. they returned the same night, discharging their guns, and dragging after them a miserable weeping train of twenty prisoners, men, women, and children; and, besides this, a sack of , pieces of eight, and many mules, laden with household goods and merchandise. some of the prisoners were at once racked, to make them confess where they had hidden their riches, but neither pain nor fear could extort their secret. lolonnois, who valued not murdering, though in cold blood, ten or twelve spaniards, drew his cutlass and hacked one of them to pieces before all his companions; and while the pale, tortured men were still writhing and groaning by his side, declared, "if you do not confess and declare where you have the rest of your goods, i will do the like to all your companions." in spite of all these horrible cruelties and inhuman threats, only one was found base enough to offer to conduct the buccaneers to a place where the rest of the fugitives were hidden. when they arrived there, they found their coming had been announced, the riches had been removed to another place, and the spaniards had fled. the exiles now changed their hiding-places daily, and, amid the universal danger and distrust, a father would not even rely on his own son. after fifteen days "taking stock" at maracaibo, lolonnois marched towards gibraltar, intending afterwards to sack merida, as at these places he expected to find the wealth transported from the city of the lake. several of his prisoners offered to serve as guides, but warned him that he would find the place strong and fortified. "no matter," cried the buccaneer, "the better sign that it is worth taking." gibraltar was already prepared. the inhabitants, expecting lolonnois, had entreated aid from the governor of merida, a stout old soldier who had served in flanders. he sent back word, that they need take no care, for he hoped in a little while to exterminate the pirates. he had soon after this hopeful bravado entered the town at the head of well-armed men, and was soon joined by an equal number of armed townsmen, whom he at once enrolled. on the side of the town towards the sea he raised with great rapidity a battery, mounting twenty guns, well protected by baskets of earth, and flanked by a smaller traverse of eight pieces. he lastly barricaded a narrow passage to the town, through which the pirates, he knew, must pass, and opened another path leading to a swampy wood that was quite impassable. three days after leaving maracaibo lolonnois approached gibraltar, and, seeing the royal standard hung out, perceived there were breakers ahead, and called a general council, one of those republican gatherings that distinguished the buccaneer armies, and remind us of the less unanimous consultations that xenophon describes. he confessed that the difficulty of the enterprise was great, seeing the spaniards had had so much time to put themselves in a state of defence, and had now got together a large force and much ammunition; "but have a good courage," said he, "we must either defend ourselves like good soldiers or lose our lives with all the riches we have got. do as i shall do, who am your captain. at other times we have fought with fewer men than we have now, and yet have overcome a greater number of enemies than can be in this town; _the more they are the more riches we shall gain_." his men all cried out, with one voice, that they would follow and obey him. "'tis well," he replied, "but know ye, the first man who will show any fear or the least apprehension thereof, i will pistol him with my own hands." the buccaneers cast anchor near the shore, about three-quarters of a league from the town, and the next day before sunrise landed to the number of determined men, each armed with a cutlass, a brace of pistols, and thirty charges of powder and bullets. on the shore they all shook hands with one another, many for the last time, and began their march, lolonnois exclaiming, "come, _mes frères_, follow me and have good courage." their guide, ignorant of what the governor of merida had done, led them in all good faith up the barricaded way, where, to his surprise, he found the paths in one place blocked up with large trees, newly cut, and in another swamped so that the soft mud reached up above their thighs. lolonnois, seeing the passage hopeless, attempted the narrow way, which had been carefully cleared as a trap for them. here only six men could go abreast, and the shots of the town ploughed incessantly down the path. at the same time the spaniards, in a small terraced battery of six guns, beat their drums and hung out their silk flags. the adventurers, harassed by the fire that they could not return, and slipping on the swampy path, grew vexed and impatient. "courage, my brothers," cried their leader, "we must beat these fellows or die; follow me, and if i fall don't give in for that." with these words he ran full butt, with head down like a mad bull, against the spaniards, followed by all his men, as daring but less patient than himself. cutting down boughs they made a rude pathway, firm and sure, over the deep mud. when within about a pistol shot from the entrenchments, they began again to sink up to their knees, and the enemy's grape-shot fell thick and hot upon the impeded ranks. many dropped, but their last words were always, "courage, never flinch, _mes frères_, and you'll win it yet." all this time they could scarce see or hear, so blinded and deafened were they by the thunder and fire. in the midst of this discomfiture the spaniards suddenly broke through the gloom, just as they got out of the wood and trod upon firmer ground, and drove them back by a furious onslaught, many of them being killed and wounded. they then attempted the other passage again, but without success, and finding the spaniards would not sally out, and the gabions too heavy to tear up by hand, lolonnois resorted to the old stratagem, so successful at hastings, by which the very impatience of courage is made to prove fatal to an enemy. at a preconcerted signal the buccaneers began to retreat, upon which the defenders of the battery, exclaiming, "they fly, they fly; follow, follow," sallied forth in disorder to the pursuit, shouting and firing like an undisciplined rabble. once out of gun-shot of the batteries, the pursued turned into pursuers, and falling on the foe, sword in hand, slew about . fighting their way through those who survived, the buccaneers soon became masters of all the fortifications. not more than out of the defenders remained alive, and these, as falstaff says, would have to limp to the town-end and beg for life. the brave old governor lay dead among his foremost men. the survivors who could crawl or run hid themselves in the woods, impeded in their flight by the very obstructions they had themselves raised. the men in the battery surrendered, and obtained quarter. neither lolonnois nor le basque was scratched, but forty of their companions perished, and eighty were grievously wounded. the greater part of these died through the fevers and subsequent pestilence. dead spaniards were found, but many more had hidden themselves, to die alone in peace. the buccaneers, now masters of gibraltar, pulled down the spanish colours from tower and steeple, and hoisted their own red or black flag. making prisoners of all they met, they shut them up under guard in the chief church, where they erected a battery of great guns, in case the spaniards should attempt to rally in a fit of despair. they then collected the dead bodies of the spaniards, and, piling them up, scarred and gashed, in two large canoes, towed them out a quarter of a league to sea, and scuttled them. they then gathered from every house, rich or poor, all the plate, merchandise, and household stuff, which was not too hot or too heavy to carry off, as rapacious as the borderer who stopped wistfully opposite the hay-stack, wishing it had but four legs, that he might make it "gang awa' wi' the rest." the spaniards having buried their treasure, as usual, armed parties were sent into the surrounding woods to search for buried money, and to bring in hunters and planters as prisoners to torture. hung up by the beard, or burnt with gun-matches, the wretched sufferers were forced to confess the hiding-places. lolonnois soon turned the fertile country into a smoking black desert, and, still insatiable for money and blood, planned an expedition over the snow mountains to merida, but reluctantly relinquished it when he found his men unwilling to risk what they had got for the mere uncertainly of getting more, though merida was only forty leagues distant. they had now prisoners, besides slaves, and many women and children, many of whom were dying daily of famine, so short were provisions already in a city in which the small army had been encamped only eighteen days. when they had spent six weeks in the town, lolonnois determined to return, nothing now being left to pillage. disease and famine were worse enemies than the spaniard or the indian, and cared for neither steel nor lead. a pestilential disease appeared in consequence of the numerous dead bodies left in the woods exposed to the wild beasts and the birds. those that lay nearest to the walls had been strewn over with earth, the rest were left to taint the air, and slay the living--a putrid fever broke out; the spaniards killed more of the enemy after their death than they had done in their life. the frenchmen's wounds, already closing, began now to re-open, the sick died daily, and the strongest pined and sickened; all longed to return, even plunder grew distasteful to them without health, and once more at sea they hoped soon to be well. men who had been revelling in the plenty of two captured cities, could not return without impatience to the restraints of a time of scarcity. gibraltar always depending upon maracaibo for its meat, and not well supplied with flour, was, in fact, like a miser dying for want of a loaf, while his storehouses were brimmed over with gold. the little meat and flour were quickly consumed by the buccaneers, who left their prisoners to shift for themselves. the cattle they soon appropriated, giving the mules' and asses' flesh to those spaniards whose hunger was strong enough to conquer their disgust. a few of the women were allowed better fare, and many who had become the mistresses of their captors were well treated by their lovers. some of these were mere slaves, others were voluntary concubines, but the greater part had been compelled, by poverty and fear, to abandon their fathers and husbands. lolonnois, sending four of his prisoners into the woods, demanded a ransom of , pieces of eight within two days, threatening the fugitives to burn the town to ashes if his desire was not acceded to. the spaniards, already half-beggared, disagreed about the ransom; the bolder and the more avaricious refused to pay a piastre, the old, the timid, and the more generous preferred poverty to such a loss. some said it would serve as a mere bribe to allure a third adventurer, and others declared it was the only means of saving merida. while they were thus disputing the two days passed, and the debate was put an end to by the sight of flame ascending above the roofs. the city was already fired in two or three places, when the inhabitants, promising to bring the ransom, persuaded the buccaneers to assist in quenching the flames, not, however, till the chief houses were burned, and the chief monastery was ruined. oexmelin merely says that lolonnois set fire to the four corners of the town, and in six hours reduced the whole to ashes. palm-thatch and cedar walls burn quick, and the sea-breeze was there to fan the flames, while the buccaneers were learned in the art of destruction. lolonnois then collected his men by beat of drum, and embarked his booty. before he sailed, he sent two of his prisoners again into the woods, to tell the inhabitants that all the prisoners in his hands would be at once put to death if the ransom were not paid. all prisoners who had not paid their ransom he took with him, even the slaves being valued at so much, and having put on board all riches that were movable, and a large sum of money as a ransom for what was immovable, the buccaneer fleet returned to maracaibo. the city, now partly repeopled, was thrown again into disorder, nor much lessened when three or four prisoners came to the governor, bearing a demand from lolonnois to pay at once , pieces of eight down upon his deck, or to expect a second sack, and the fate of gibraltar. while these terms were under concession, and the spanish merchants were chaffering with the sailors, as a lowland farmer might have done with a highland _cateran_, a party of well-inclined flibustiers, unwilling to waste their time, rowed on shore, and stripped the great church of its pictures, images, carvings, clocks, and bells, even to the very cross on its steeple, piously desiring to erect a chapel at tortuga, where there was much need of spiritual instruction. the spaniards at last agreed to pay for their ransom and liberty , piastres, , pieces of eight, and cows, provided the fleet would do no further injury, and depart at once, and the blessing of maracaibo with them. we can imagine the trembling and suppressed joy with which the people of maracaibo must have beheld the fleet sail slowly out of their harbour, all eyes on board bent onward to the horizon and the golden future--none looking back with a moment's regret upon the misery and the black ruin left behind. how many orphans must have cursed them as they sailed, and how many widows! three days after the embarkation, to the horror of the city, a vessel with a red flag at its masthead was seen re-entering the harbour, but only, as it soon appeared, to demand a pilot to take the fleet over the bar. on their way to hispaniola, lolonnois touched at the isle de la vacca, intending to stay there and divide the spoil. this island was inhabited by french buccaneers, who sold the flesh of the animals they killed to vessels in want of victual. but a dispute arising here, the fleet again set out to disband the crew at gouaves in hispaniola. they arrived in two months, and, unlading the whole "cargazon of riches," proceeded to make a dividend of their prizes and their gains. lolonnois and the other captains began by taking a solemn oath in public, that they had concealed and held back no portion of the spoil, but had thrown all without reserve into the public stock. the ceremony of this oath must have been an imposing sight: wild groups of half-stripped sailors, wounded men, and female captives, negroes and indians, spanish soldiers and mulatto fishermen, and in the middle piled bales of silks, heaps of glittering coin, and rich stuffs streaming over scattered arms and costly jewels, while, looking on, perhaps wistfully, leaning on their muskets, a few hunters fresh from the savannahs, bull's-hide sandals on their feet, and long knives hanging from their belts. after the captains had taken the oath, the common _matelots_, down even to the cabin boys, took the vow that they had given up all their spoil, to be shared equally by those who had equally ventured their lives to win it. after an exact calculation, the total value of their profits in jewels and money was discovered to be , crowns, not including , crowns' worth of church furniture and a cargo of tobacco. on the final division every man received money, silk, and linen to the value of about pieces of eight. the surgeon and the wounded were as usual paid first. the slaves were then sold by auction, and their purchase-money divided among the various crews. the uncoined plate was weighed, and sold at the rate of ten pieces of eight to a pound; the jewels were sold at false and fanciful prices, and were generally undervalued, owing to the ignorance of the arbitrators. a buccaneer always preferred coin to jewels, and jewels, as being portable, to heavy merchandise, which they often threw overboard or wantonly destroyed. the adventurers then all took the oath a second time, and proceeded to apportion the shares of such as had fallen, handing them to the _matelots_, or messmate, to forward to their heirs or nearest relations. we do not know whether, in peculiar cases, a _matelot_ became his _camarade's_ heir. the dividend over, they returned to tortuga, amid the general rejoicing of all over whom love or cupidity had any power. "for three weeks, while their money lasted," says oexmelin, probably an eye witness of the scene, "there was nothing but dances, feasts, and protestations of unceasing friendship." the _cabaretiers_ and the gambling-house keepers soon revenged the cruelties of maracaibo. the proud captors of that luckless city in a few weeks were hungry beggars, basking on the quay of tortuga, straining their eyes to catch sight of some vessel that might take them on board, and relieve them from that reaction of wretchedness. they were jeered at as mad spendthrifts by the very men who had urged them to their folly. the love of courtesans grew colder as the pieces of eight diminished, and men were refused charity by the very wretches whom their foolish generosity had lately enriched. no doubt watches were fried and bank-bills eaten as sandwiches, just as they were during the war at portsmouth or at dover. the prudent were those who made the money spin out a day longer than their fellows, and the wildest were those who had found out that two dice-boxes and two fiddlers ran through the burdensome money a little faster than only one dice-box and one fiddler. some of the buccaneers, skilful with the cards, added to their store and returned at once to france, resolved to turn merchants, and trade with the indies they had wasted. the extravagant prices paid by these men for wine, and particularly brandy, rendered that trade a source of great profit. just before the return of the fleet two french vessels had arrived at tortuga laden with spirits, which at first sold at very moderate rates, but ultimately, from the great demand and the limited means of supply, reached an exorbitant price, a gallon selling for as much as four pieces of eight. the tavern-keepers and the _filles de joie_ obtained most of the money so dearly earned, and lavished it as those from whom they won it had done. cards and dice helped those who had not struck a blow at the spaniard, to now quietly spoil the captors. the story of sampson and dalilah was daily acted. even the governor hastened to benefit by the expedition. he bought a cargo of cocoa of the buccaneers, and shipped it at once to france in lolonnois' vessel, giving scarcely a twentieth part of its value, and realising a profit of £ , . the adventurers did not grudge him this bargain, as he had risked everything for tortuga, and had suffered considerable losses. "m. d'ogeron," says oexmelin, with some _naïveté_, "aimait les 'honnêtes gens,' les obligeait sans cesse, et ne les lassait jamais manquer de rien." neither lolonnois' talent, rank, nor courage kept him further from the tavern door than the meanest of his crew. the poor drudge of a negro that served as a butt to the sailors could not give way to baser debauchery. it was the voice of the cannon alone that roused him to great actions. on land he was a caliban, at sea a barbarossa. in spite of his great booty, in a few short weeks he was poorer than his crew. tortuga was to him the circe's island that transformed him into a beast. as soon as his foot trod the plank, he became again the wily and the wise ulysses: the first in daring or in suffering, ready to endure or to attack, above his fellow men in patience and impatience. his expenses were large, and when the prizes ceased to come in he was soon reduced to live upon his capital, and that quickly melted away in open-house feasting and entertainments given to the governor. he had been before he returned, moreover, so burdened with debts that even his prize-money could not have defrayed them. there was but one means of release--another expedition. let the spanish mother clasp her child closer to her breast, for she knows not how soon she may have to part with it for ever. is there no comet that may warn an unprepared and a doomed people? lolonnois had now acquired great repute at tortuga. he was known to be brave, and, what is a rare combination, prudent. under his guidance men who had forgot his previous misfortunes, thought themselves secure of gold, and without glory gold is not to be won. he needed now no entreaties to induce men to fill his ships; the difficulty was in selecting from the volunteers. those who had before stayed behind now determined to venture; those who had once followed him were already driven by mere poverty to enlist. the privations of land were intolerable to men who had just revelled in riches--the privations of sea could be endured by the mere force of habit. the planters threw by their hoes, and quitted the hut for the cabin. the towns of nicaragua were now to share the fate of those of venezuela. about men and six ships formed the expedition. lolonnois himself sailed in a large "flute" which he had brought from maracaibo with men; the other adventurers embarked in five smaller vessels. having careened and revictualled at bayala, in hispaniola, he steered for matamana, a port on the south side of cuba. he here informed his companions of the plan of the expedition, and produced an indian of nicaragua who had offered to serve as guide. he assured them of the riches of the country, and expressed his belief that they could surprise the place before the inhabitants had secreted their money. his proposal was received with the usual unhesitating applause. at matamana, lolonnois collected by force all the canoes of the tortoise fishermen, much to their grief and dismay, these poor men having no other means of subsistence but fishing. these boats he needed to take him up the channel of nicaragua, which was too shallow for vessels of any larger burthen. while attempting to round cape gracias à dios, the fleet was arrested by what the spanish sailors call a "furious calm"--a sad and tedious imprisonment to men to whom every delay involved the success of their enterprise. in spite of all their endeavours, they were carried by the current into the gulf of honduras. both wind and tide being against them, the smaller vessels--better sailers and more manageable than that of lolonnois--made more way than he could do; but were obliged to wait for him, and stay for his orders, being quite powerless without him and his men. they spent nearly a month in trying to recover their path, but all in vain, losing in two hours what they gained in two days, and, their provisions running short, put ashore to revictual. touching at the first land they could reach, they sent their canoes up the river xagua--their guides bringing them to the villages of the "long-eared indians," a race tributary to spain, whose traders bartered knives and mirrors with them for cocoa. the buccaneers burned their huts and carried off their millet, hogs, and poultry, loading the canoes with all the food they could bring away to their impatient comerades, who determined to remain here till the unfavourable weather had passed, and burn and pillage along the whole borders of the gulf. the indian provisions proved but scanty for so numerous a band, but were divided equally among the ships that were seeking food like locusts, and moving daily on to new pastures. a council of war was now held to discuss their position. some were for discontinuing the expedition, since the provisions ran so short. the oldest and most experienced proposed plundering round the gulf till the bad season had passed; and this plan was decided on. having rifled a few villages, they came to puerto cavallo, a place where spanish ships frequently anchored, and which contained two storehouses full of cochineal, indigo, hides, &c., from guatimala. there happened then to be lying in the port a spanish vessel of twenty-four guns and sixteen patarerros. its cargo, however, was nearly all unloaded and carried up into the interior to be exchanged in barter with the indians. this ship was instantly seized; and lolonnois, landing without any resistance, burned the magazines and all the houses, and made many prisoners. the spaniards he put to the torture to induce them to confess. if any refused to answer, he pulled out their tongues, or cut them to pieces with his hanger, "desiring," says esquemeling, "to do so to every spaniard in the world." many, terrified by the rack, promised to confess, really having nothing to disclose. these men were always cruelly put to death in revenge. one mulatto was bound hand and foot and thrown alive into the sea to intimidate the rest, and to induce two survivors to show the french chief the nearest road to the neighbouring town of san pedro. for this expedition lolonnois selected men, leaving his lieutenant, moses vauclin, to govern in his absence, and despatching a few of his small flotilla to help him by a diversion on the coast. before starting, he told his companions that he would never refuse to march at their head, but that he should kill with his own hand "the first who turned tail." san pedro was only ten leagues distant. he had not proceeded three before he fell into an ambuscade. the spaniards' favourite scheme of attack was the treacherous surprise--a mere sort of attempt at wholesale assassination--seldom successful, and always exasperating the enemy to greater cruelties. they had now entrenched themselves behind gabions in a narrow road, impassable on either side with trees and strong thickets. lolonnois instantly striking down the guides, whether innocent or guilty, charged the enemy with desperate courage, and put them to flight after a long encounter, ending in a total rout. they killed a few buccaneers and left many of their own men dead upon the ground. the wounded spaniards, being first questioned as to the distance from san pedro, and the best way to get there, were instantly beheaded. the prisoners informed him that some runaway slaves, escaped from porto cavallo, had told them of the intended attack on san pedro. determined to prevent this, they had planned the ambuscade, and two other still stronger earthworks which awaited him further on. to prevent connivance, or any possible treachery, lolonnois then had the spaniards brought before him one by one, and demanded of each in turn if there was no means of getting into another and less guarded road. on their each denying that there was, he grew frenzied and almost mad at the thoughts of such inevitable danger, and had them all murdered but two; and then, in ungovernable passion, he ripped open with his cutlass the breast of one of these survivors, who was bound to a tree. esquemeling asserts that he even tore out his heart and gnawed it "like a ravenous wolf," swearing and shouting that he would serve them all alike if they did not show him another way. the miserable survivor, willing to save his life at any risk, his memory or invention quickened by the imminent danger, conducted him into another path, but so bad a one that lolonnois preferred to return to the old one in spite of all its perils, so difficult, slow, and laborious was the march. he now seems to have grown almost fevered with rage, anxiety, and vexation. "mon dieu," he growled, "les espagnols me le payeront," and he cursed the delay that kept him from the enemy. there is no doubt that in these men a fanatical and almost superstitious hatred of the enemy had sprung up, inflamed by mutual cruelties, for forgiveness was not the chief virtue of the victorious spaniard. to the buccaneer the spaniard seemed cruel, cowardly, treacherous, and degraded; to the spaniard the buccaneer seemed a monster scarcely human--bloody, voluptuous, faithless, and rapacious. that same evening the chief fell into a second ambuscade, which, says esquemeling, "he assaulted with such horrible fury" that in less than an hour's time he routed the spaniards and killed the greater part of them, the rest flying to the third ambush, which was planted about two leagues from the town. the spaniards had thought, by these repeated attacks, to destroy the enemy piecemeal, and for this object, which they did not attain, frittered their forces into small and useless detachments. lolonnois and his people, weary with fighting and marching, and half-fainting with hunger and thirst, lay down in the wood that night, and slept till the morning, the _matelots_ keeping good watch and ward, and guarding their sleeping companions. at daybreak they resumed their journey, with confidence increased by the clear light and with bodies invigorated by rest. the third ambuscade was stronger and more advantageously placed than even the two preceding. they attacked it with showers of fire-balls, and drove out the enemy, slaying without mercy, and giving no quarter. "no quarter, no quarter," cried their ferocious leader, still thirsty for human blood, when they would have stayed their hands, from exhaustion rather than from pity. "the more we kill here, the less we shall meet in the town," was his war-cry. very few of the enemy escaped to san pedro, the greater part being either slain or wounded. before they ventured to make the final attack, the buccaneers rested to look to their arms and prepare their ammunition. in vain they attempted to discover a second approach. there was but one, and that was well barricaded, and planted all round with thorny shrubs, which the best shod traveller could not pass, much less barefooted men, clad only in a shirt and drawers. these thorns, oexmelin says, were more dangerous than those crow's-feet used in europe to annoy cavalry. lolonnois, seeing that no other way was left, and that delay would imply fear in his own men, and excite hope in the enemy, resolved to storm the works, in spite of the rage and despair of a well-armed and superior force, sheltered from shot and commanding his approach. "the spaniards," says esquemeling, "posted behind the said defences, seeing the pirates come, began to ply them with their great guns; but these, perceiving them ready to fire, used to stoop down, and then the shot was made to fall upon the defendants with fire-balls and naked swords, killing many of the town." driven back for a time, they renewed the attack with fewer men; husbanding their shot, for they were now short of powder; never shooting at a long distance; and seldom firing but with great deliberation when an enemy's head appeared above the rampart; and occasionally giving a general discharge, in which nearly every bullet killed an enemy. several times the buccaneers advanced to the very mouths of the guns, and, throwing down fire-balls into the works, leaped after them, sword in hand, through the embrasures; but only to be again driven back. this obstinate combat, so eager on both sides, had lasted about four hours, and night was fast approaching, when lolonnois, ordering a last furious attack, put the now weakened spaniards to flight, a great number of them being killed as soon as they turned their backs. the citizens then hung out a white flag, and, coming to a parley, agreed to surrender the town on condition of receiving two hours' respite. during this time, lolonnois found that he had lost about thirty men, ten more being wounded. this demand of two hours was employed by the towns-people in loading themselves with their riches and preparing for flight--the buccaneers virtuously abstaining from any molestation till the time had duly expired, and then pursuing the fugitives and plundering them of every _maravedi_. but neither their self-denial nor their vigilance was well rewarded, for fortune gave them nothing but a few leather sacks full of indigo, the rest, even in that short time, having been buried or destroyed--a disappointment which, we think, no reasonable person can regret. lolonnois had particularly ordered that not only all the goods should be seized, but that every fugitive should be made prisoner. the buccaneer chief, having stayed a few days at san pedro, and "committed most horrid insolences," was anxious to send for a new reinforcement, and attack the town of guatimala--a place a long way distant, and defended by men. on his men as usual refusing to accede to an apparently rash project, lolonnois contented himself by pillaging san pedro, intending to impress a recollection of his visit upon the grateful inhabitants by burning their town. he obtained no great booty, for the inhabitants were a poor people, trading in nothing but dyes. if he had chosen to carry away their stores of indigo, he might have realised more than , crowns; but the buccaneers cared for nothing but coin and bullion, and were too ignorant, too lazy, and too improvident to stop their debauches by loading their vessels with a perishable cargo of uncertain value. having remained now eighteen days in san pedro without obtaining much, for the west indian spaniard had already learned to hide as skilfully as the hindoo ryot, lolonnois called together his prisoners, and demanded from them a ransom as the condition of sparing their town. they doggedly answered, with all the insolence of despair, that he had taken from them all they had, and that they had nothing more to give; that they could not coin without gold, and that, as far as they went, he might do what he liked to the town. lolonnois then reduced the town to ashes, and, marching to the sea-side to rejoin his companions, found that they had been employing their time, innocently and usefully, in capturing the fishing-boats of guatimala. some indians, newly taken, informed him that a _hourque_, a vessel of tons, bringing goods from spain to the honduras, was then lying in the great river of guatimala. resolving to careen and victual at the islands on the other side of the gulf, they left two canoes at the mouth of the river to give notice when the vessel should venture forth. the time spent in thus watching outside the covert, they devoted to turtle fishing, dividing themselves into parties, each having his own station to prevent disputes. their nets they made of the bark of the macoa tree; a natural pitch or bitumen for their boats they found in fused heaps upon the shore. the formation of this pitch, or "wax," as esquemeling calls it, the sailors attributed to wild bees; the hollow trees in which they built being torn down by storms and swept down into the sea. the rest of their time--which never seems to have been wearisome, unless the subsequent mutiny indicates it, for these men had the tenacity of a slot-hound in the pursuit of blood--was spent in cruises among those indians of the coast of yucatan, who seek for amber on the shore. these tribes were the willing serfs of spain, having served them without resistance for a full century. the spaniards had, as they believed, converted the whole nation to christianity by sending a priest to them once a-week, but, on their sudden return to idolatry, had begun to persecute them, angry at their own failure. according to the buccaneers' account, these indian chiefs worshipped each a peculiar spirit, to whom they offered sacrifices of fire, burning incense of sweet-scented gums. they had a singular custom of carrying their new-born children into their temples, and leaving them for a night in a hole filled with wood-ashes, generally in an open place, untended, and where wild beasts could enter. leaving the child here they found in the morning the foot-prints of some wild beast on the ashes. to this animal, whatever it might be, jaguar, snake, or cayman, they dedicated the child, whose patron god it became. to this animal the child prayed for vengeance against its enemies, and to it he offered sacrifices. their marriages were accompanied by a very beautiful and simple ceremony. a young man, having satisfied his intended bride's father as to his fitness to manage a plantation, was presented with a bow and arrow. he then visits the maiden, and puts on her head a wreath of green leaves and sweet-smelling flowers, taking off the crown usually worn by virgins. a meeting of her relations is then called, the maize juice is drunk, and the day after marriage the bride's garland is torn to pieces with cries and lamentations. in these islands the buccaneers found canoes of the aregues indians, which must have drifted leagues. they had remained turtle-fishing and amber-seeking about three months, when the welcome tidings came that the enemy's vessel had ventured out. all hands were now employed in preparing the careening ships. it was, however, at last agreed to wait for its return, when, as they expected, it would not only contain merchandise but money. they therefore sent their canoes to observe her motions, and, hearing of the ambuscade, the spaniards returned to port. lolonnois, as weary of delay as a greyhound is vexed by a hare's repeated doubling, determined to do what mahomet did when the mountain would not go to him; since the spaniards would not come to him, he went himself to the spaniards. informed of their approach by spies, indians or fishermen, the vessel was prepared to receive him. the decks were cleared, the boarding-nettings up, and the guns double-shotted. the spaniard carried fifty-six pieces of cannon, and the crew were well provided with hand grenades, torches, fusees, and fire-balls, especially on the quarter-deck and bows, and a crew of some men stood armed and threatening at their quarters. but lolonnois cared for none of these things, and the rich cargo shone, to his eye, through the ship's transparent sides. with his small craft of twenty-two guns, with a single fly-boat as his only ally, he boldly attacked the enemy, but was at first beaten off. to the buccaneer a slight check was almost a certain precursor of victory; waiting till about sixty of the spanish sailors had fallen from the fire of his deadly musketry, when their courage slackened, and the smoke of their powder lay in a dark mist round the bulwarks, hiding his movements, he boarded with four canoes, well manned. in spite of the brave defence, the buccaneers fought with such fury that they forced the spaniards to surrender. lolonnois then sent his boats up the river to secure a small patache, which they knew lay near at hand, laden with plate, indigo, and cochineal. but the inhabitants, alarmed at the capture of the larger vessel, swept away from under their very eyes, saved the patache by preventing her departure. the booty of the prize was much less than was expected, the vessel being already almost entirely unladen. its cargo consisted of iron and paper, and it still contained , reams of paper, and tons of iron bars, which had served as ballast. the few bales of merchandise were nothing but linens, serges, and cloth, thread, and a few jars of wine. in the return cargo there would have been at least a million in specie. these heterogeneous articles were of no use to men who wanted nothing but coin or jewels, lead or powder. dividing the paper, they used it for napkins, and other useless trifles, and several jars of almond and olive-oil were wasted in the same reckless manner. having now accomplished their purpose, without much return for their three months' patience, lolonnois called a general council of the fleet, and declared his intention of going to guatimala. upon this announcement a division arose in the assembly, and the hoarse murmurs of a coming tempest were heard around the speaker. many of the adventurers, new to the trade, could no longer conceal their weariness and their disappointment. they had set sail from tortuga with the feeling with which a country boy comes to london. they had believed that pieces of eight grew on the trees like pears, and had overlooked the dragons that guarded the hesperian trees. having seen their predecessors return home laden with the plunder of maracaibo, many had overlooked the toil and dangers by which it was won, in the sight of the joy and prodigality with which it was lavished; they had seen only the rich pearls, and forgotten the stormy seas from which they had been gathered. they were weary of the hardships, and mutinous for want of food. the mere seeker for gold could not endure what was submitted to by those who were desirous of earning distinction. the older hands laughed at their pinings, derided their complaints, and swore that they would rather die and starve there, than return home with empty purses, to be the scorn and laughing-stock of all hispaniola. the majority of the experienced men, foreseeing that the voyage to nicaragua would not succeed, and was "little to their purpose," separated from lolonnois, and set sail secretly in the swift sailing vessel that moses vauclin had captured in the port of cavallo, and which he now commanded, boasting, with reason, that it was the swiftest sailing vessel that had been seen in the west indies for fifty years. with moses vauclin went pierre le picard, who, seeing others desert lolonnois, resolved to do the same. steering homewards, the fugitives coasted along the whole continent till they came to costa rica, where they landed a good party, marched up to veraguas, and burnt the town, pillaging the spaniards, who made a stout resistance, carrying off a few prisoners, and obtaining a scanty booty of some seven or eight pounds' worth of gold, which their slaves washed from the mud of the rivers. alarmed at the multitude of spaniards that began to gather round them, the marauders abandoned their design of attacking the town of nata, on the south sea-coast, although many rich merchants lived there, whose slaves worked in the gold-washings of veraguas. returning to tortuga, these undisciplined men, impatient of poverty, united themselves under the flag of a noble adventurer, the chevalier du plessis, who had just arrived in the indies, poor and proud, and prepared to cruise against the spaniard in those seas. vauclin being an experienced pilot, well acquainted with the turtle islands, and every key and reef the surf washed from california to cape horn, was taken into favour by the titled privateersman, who promised him the first prize he captured, if he would sail in his company. but a serious difficulty arose in the execution of this liberal promise, for the chevalier was soon after shot through the head while grappling with a spanish ship of thirty-six guns, and moses was elected captain in his stead. in his first cruise, the brave deserter was fortunate enough to take a cocoa vessel from the havannah, with a cargo valued at , livres. during this time, lolonnois and his men remained alone and deserted in the gulf of honduras. he was now in some distress, short of provisions, and in a vessel too "great to get out at the reflux of those seas." his men had no food but that which they contrived to kill daily on shore, living chiefly on the flesh of parrots and monkeys. by day they generally fished or hunted, by night, taking advantage of the land breeze, they sailed painfully on till they rounded cape gracias à dios, and slowly the pearl islands hove in sight. staunch and inexorable, lolonnois, amid all the tedium of this enervating idleness, still nourished the project of making a swoop down upon nicaragua, intending to leave his cumbrous vessel behind, and row up the river st. john in canoes, until he reached the lake. but the same reason that made his vessel lag behind those of his companions, now drove it ashore in a shallow near cape gracias, where it drew too much water to be extricated. in vain he unloaded his guns and iron, and used every means that experience and ingenuity could suggest to lighten the ship, and float her again into deep water. always firm and resolute, lolonnois at once determined to break her to pieces on the sand-shoal, and with her planks and nails to construct a boat. his men, with perfect _sang froid_, not even impatient at the loss, much less afraid of danger, escaping to land, began to build indian _ajoupas_, or huts. lolonnois, accustomed to such reverses, concealed his chagrin, if he even felt any. regardless of himself, he adjured his men to lose no courage, for he knew of a means of escape, and, what was more, a way to make their fortune yet, before they returned to tortuga. prepared for every emergency, and even for the longest delay, part of the crew were at once employed in planting peas and other vegetables, the remainder in fishing and hunting, all but the few who worked busily at the boat in which nicaragua was to be visited. in spite of desertion, failure, wreck, and famine, lolonnois held on to the plan of the expedition, which he deemed cowardly and shameful to abandon. the men, confident in the sagacity and courage of their leader, surrendered themselves like children to his guidance. the indians of the perlas islands, on which they had struck, were a fierce and untamable race, strong and agile, swift as horses, hardy divers, brave but cruel, warlike, and man-eaters. their wooden clubs were jagged with crocodiles' teeth; they had no bows or arrows, but used lances a fathom and a-half long. they built no huts, and lived on fruits grown in plantations cleared from the forest. fishers and swimmers, they were so dexterous as to be able to bring up with a rope an anchor of cwt. from a rock, a feat which esquemeling himself saw a few of them perform. the seamen in vain attempted to propitiate these wild freemen, to serve them as guides or hunters. at last, finding a great number together, and pursuing the fugitives, they tracked five men and four women to a cave, and took much pains to propitiate them. the captives remaining obstinately silent, as if from fear, in spite of the food that was given them, were dismissed with presents of knives and beads. they left, promising to return; "but soon forgot their _benefactors_," says esquemeling, disgustfully. the sailors believed that at night all the indians swam to a neighbouring island, as they never saw either boat or indian again. some time before this the frenchmen's terror had been excited by the discovery that these indians were cannibals. two buccaneers, a frenchman and a spaniard, had straggled into the woods in search of game. pursued by a troop of savages, the latter, after a desperate struggle, was captured, and heard of no more; the former, the swifter footed of the two, escaped. a few days after, an armed party of a dozen flibustiers, led by this survivor, went into the same part of the forest to see if they could find any traces of the indian encampment. near the place where the spaniard had fallen into the ambush they discovered the ashes of a fire, still warm, and among the embers some human bones, well scraped, and a white man's hand with two fingers half roasted, but still unconsumed. for six months, till the long-boat was completed, the buccaneers lived on spanish wheat, bananas, and on the fruits and green crops which they had sown on landing. their bread they baked in portable ovens saved from the wreck. lolonnois now once more prepared to carry out his unabandoned project. with part of his crew he resolved to row up the river of nicaragua, to capture some canoes, and return to fetch away those whom the new boat would not hold. the men cast lots for the choice of sailing with him. he took about one-half of the shipwrecked crew with him, part in the long-boat and part in a skiff which had been saved when the larger vessel drove on the bank. they arrived in a few days at desaguadera, near nicaragua, but attacked on the beach by an overpowering number of spaniards and indians, they were driven back to their boats, with the loss of many men, and escaped with difficulty, beaten and desponding. lolonnois, now fairly at bay with fortune, still resolved neither to return to tortuga ragged and penniless, nor to rejoin his comerades till he had obtained a sufficient number of canoes to embark his companions. in order the better to obtain provisions he divided his men into two bands. the one party proceeded to the cape gracias à dios, where they were well received; the other sailed to boca del toro, on the coast of carthagena, where adventurers frequently repaired for turtle and other provisions, intending to embark in the first friendly vessel that should arrive. nicaragua was still destined to remain unscathed. "god almighty," says esquemeling, who writes with some bitterness, and probably much hypocrisy, "the time of his divine justice being now come, had appointed the indians of darien to be the instruments and executioners thereof." landing at a place called the la pointe à diegue to obtain fresh water, lolonnois and his men, weary of "wave, and wind, and oar," drew their canoes to land, and threw up entrenchments, knowing that they were now in the neighbourhood of the bravo indians, the most savage race known on the mainland--as cruel as sharks, and as numerous and greedy of blood as the vultures. he himself and a few others, passing the river, near the gulf of darien, landed in order to sack a town and obtain provisions. here this modern ulysses found a termination to his troubles and his life, for, being taken prisoner by the indians, he was killed, chopped to pieces, and devoured. many of his companions were also burnt alive, and but a few escaped to tortuga, by the detail of their horrors to check for a few days the love of adventure in the minds of its restless and impetuous adventurers. esquemeling, or his english translator--who generally considers it necessary to conclude his chapters with a sanctimonious moral, a snuffle of the nose, and a lifting up of the eyes--says, "hither lolonnois came (brought by his evil conscience that cried for punishment), thinking to act his cruelties; but the indians, within a few days after his arrival, took him prisoner, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire, and his ashes into the air (_virtuous indignation_), that no trace or memory might remain of such an infamous, inhuman creature.... thus ends the history, the life, and the miserable death of that infernal wretch, lolonnois, who, full of horrid, execrable, and enormous deeds, and debtor to so much innocent blood, died by cruel and butcherly hands, such as his own were in the course of his life." towards the conclusion of his malediction esquemeling's wrath unfortunately gets much the better of his grammar. the men left behind in the island de las perlas, after long waiting for their companions--who had only escaped scylla to run into charybdis--were taken off by an english adventurer, who, collecting a body of men, resolved on an expedition to the mainland. ascending the river moustique, near cape gracias, he sailed on, expecting to find some inlet to the lake of nicaragua, round which lolonnois' men still hovered. the expedition started full of hope, for the shipwrecked men were rejoiced at ending ten months of suffering, anxiety, and privation. the result was worse than mere disappointment. in fifteen days they reached no spanish town, but only some poor indian villages, which they found deserted by the natives, who, aware of their coming, had fled, carrying off all the produce of their plantations. these they burnt in their rage, and marched recklessly onwards. they had carried no provision with them, expecting to find everywhere sufficient; and, to render their condition worse, had brought all their men, except five or six who were left to guard each vessel. "these their hopes," says esquemeling--turning up as usual the whites of his eyes--who looks with great contempt on all unsuccessful attempts at thieving, "were found totally vain, _as not being grounded_." in a few days the hope of plunder, which had first animated them, grew clouded by despondency. scarcity rapidly became want, and they were reduced to such extreme necessity and hunger that they gathered the plants that grew on the river's bank for food. in a fortnight their courage and vigour had entirely gone; their hearts sank, and their bodies were wasted by famine. leaving the river they took to the woods, seeking for indian villages where they might obtain food. ranging up and down the woods for some days in a fruitless search, they returned to the river, now their only guide, and struck back towards the point of coast where their ships lay. in this laborious journey they were reduced to much extremity--eating their shoes, their leather belts, and the very sheaths of their knives and swords. they grew at last so ravenous as to resolve to kill and devour the first indian they could meet; but they could not obtain one either for food or as a guide. some fell sick, and, fainting by the wayside, were left to perish. many were killed and eaten by the indians, and others died of starvation. at last they reached the shore, and, finding some comfort and relief to their present miseries, at once set sail to encounter more. after remaining some time on land, they re-embarked, but a quarrel arising between the french and english buccaneers, who seldom kept long friends, they separated into small parties, and engaged in fresh expeditions. chapter vi. alexandre bras-de-fer, and montbars the exterminator. bras-de-fer compared to alexander the great--his adventures and stratagems--montbars--anecdotes of his childhood--goes to sea--his first fight--meets and joins the buccaneers--defeats the spanish fifties--his uncle killed--his revenge--the negro vessel--adam and anne le roux plunder santiago. we now come to a class of buccaneers who lived at we scarcely know what period, although they were probably contemporaries of oexmelin. their adventures, though on a narrower scale, are perhaps more interesting than those that had subsequently taken place, and are valuable as illustrations of manners. oexmelin relates, in his usual shrewd and vivacious manner, the singular exploits of alexandre bras-de-fer, a french adventurer, with whom he was acquainted, and who, unlike his contemporaries, never joined in large expeditions, preferring the promptitude of a single swift cruiser, with none to share his risks or subtract from his booty. his life seems to have been crowded with romantic and strange incidents. his character appears to have been a strange combination of bravery and chivalry, a love of rapine, and a fantastic vanity. oexmelin says naïvely, that this modern alexander was as great a man among the adventurers of tortuga as the ancient alexander was among the conquerors of the east. nor does he see much difference between the two worthies, except that the macedonian was the adventurer upon the larger scale. our alexandre was vigorous in body and handsome in feature--so, at least, vouches oexmelin, who, a surgeon by profession, once cured him of a severe wound that he had received--a cure which, if alexandre had been generous (which he was not, in this instance at least), might have made the doctor's fortune. bras-de-fer displayed as great judgment in the conception of his enterprises as he did courage in the carrying them out. his head and hand worked well together, and he seldom had to fight his way out of dangers into which his own incautiousness had led him. the vessel which he commanded he called the _phoenix_, because it was of such a unique and peculiar structure that it was said to be among vessels what the phoenix was fabled to be among birds. alexandre always went alone, in preference to crowding in a fleet. his pride or his prudence may have given him a fondness for solitary cruises, for the _phoenix_ was a bird of prey. a picked crew and a single swift vessel had many advantages over a rebellious flotilla--and subordinate captains were often mutinous if not treacherous. if solitude increased his risk, it also increased his probability of success. oexmelin, the only writer who mentions alexandre, relates but one of his adventures, which he took down, as he tells us, from the hero's own lips. the rest of his exploits he suppresses, either from a fear of being tedious or a dread of being considered a mere romancer. on the occasion of which he speaks, alexandre was bound upon an expedition of great consequence--which, however, as it did not succeed, the narrator, with a wise modesty, does not think worth mentioning. after lying some time imprisoned in a tedious calm, his prayers for a change of weather were answered by a great storm, that blew up the sea into mountains--wind and fire seeming to struggle together in the air for the possession of the helpless ship and its pale crew. the furious thunder drowned the very roar of the sea, and the masts soon went by the board. the lightning, striking its burning arrows through the deck, set fire to the powder-magazine, and blew up the part of the vessel in which it was stored. half of the crew were hurled into the air, and were killed before they reached the boiling sea that eagerly waited for their fall. the remainder of the crew, finding the vessel going down by the head, took to swimming, and soon reached dry land: alexandre--strong and brawny, brave, but desirous of life, and always awake to the means of its preservation--by no means the last, setting an example at once of prudence, coolness, and decision. on shaking the brine from their limbs and looking around, the wrecked men found that they had been thrown upon a tract of land as much to be dreaded by the buccaneer as the realm of polyphemus was by the wise ulysses. they stood upon an island near the boca del drago (dragon's mouth), inhabited by a tribe of indians, fierce and cruel cannibals. remaining for some time upon the shore, they exerted themselves in recovering what they could from the scorched driftings of the wreck. amongst other things they saved--what was more valuable than food, because they presented the means of saving their lives for the present and for the future--a number of their hunters' muskets, sufficient to arm all their number, together with a quantity of powder and lead for bullets. without either of the three requisites the other two had been useless. they now gathered courage from the possibility of escape, and determined to secure themselves from the indians, reconnoitre the place for fear of surprise, and after that remain patiently encamped till some friendly vessel should arrive. one day, while some of the band were smoking, singing, and talking, their past dangers already half forgotten in the desire of escaping the present by encountering fresh in the future, the sentinels on the look-out hill gave the signal of an approaching vessel. on all rushing to the spot, the keener eyes detected a large ship, dark against the grey horizon. it presently discharged a gun at the shore, and in the direction in which they stood. preparing for the worst, alexandre and his men hid themselves in a wooded hollow and held a council of war. some were of opinion that they should wait for the stranger's arrival, and then quietly beg the captain to take them on board. the more impatient and lawless, less pacific in such an emergency, believed that such a plan would lead, if the vessel proved, as it probably would, a spaniard, to their all being taken prisoners, and at once strung from the yard-arm, without inquiry, as frenchmen and pirates. bras-de-fer spoke last, and crushed all opposition by his voice and gesture. he was for war to the death, and escape at any risk. better spanish rope than indian fire, better pistol shot than starvation. quick in decision and firm in execution, he had at once determined not merely to stand on the defensive, but at all risks to assume the aggressive. the adventurers yielded as if an angel had spoken, for alexandre had more than the usual ascendancy of a leader over them. both his mind and body were of a more athletic bulk and iron mould. he could dare and suffer more. his active and his passive, his moral and physical courage, were greater than theirs. they loved him because he shared their dangers, and did not humiliate them by the assumption of his real superiority. he wore the crown, but he was not always dazzling their eyes with its oppressive glitter. they respected him, because he could control both his own passions and those of the men whom he led to victory and never to defeat. the success of his victories he doubled by the prudence with which they were followed up, and the skill with which he conducted a retreat rendered his very defeats in themselves successes. the vessel, which proved to be a spanish merchant ship, with war equipments, approached nearer, standing off and on, attracted by the fruit and flowers whose perfume spread over the level sea, and allured by that fragrance, a sure proof of the existence of good water not far from the shore. the boats were lowered, and a well-armed party landed with much caution. the captain marched at their head, followed by his best soldiers, dreading an ambuscade of the indians of that coast, who were known to be warlike and treacherous, but not suspecting the buccaneers, who kept themselves in the wood, ready to swoop down upon their prey, like the kite upon the dovecote. already well acquainted with the paths and foot-tracks, alexandre's men crept quietly through the trees, which grew thick and dark, and, defiling by secret avenues, surrounded the principal approach by which the spaniards had already entered, in good order and on the alert, but with apprehensions already subsiding. the adventurers being very inferior in number and scantily armed, kept themselves hidden, waiting for chance to give them some momentary advantage. when the enemy was well encircled in the defile, mistaking perhaps the lighted matches for fire-flies among the branches, the french suddenly opened a murderous fire upon the soldiers, who found themselves girt by a belt of flame, coming from they knew not where. a pilgrim seeing a volcano opening at his feet could not be more astonished. the spaniards, seeing no enemies to aim at, withheld their fire, thinking that the indians were burning the forest. the absence of arrows, and the report of muskets, convinced them more deadly enemies awaited them, and that europeans and not indians were the preparers of the ambush. with much promptitude, instead of flying in a foolish headlong rout, they threw themselves upon their faces; and the captain gave the word of command not to fire till the enemy came in sight, being ignorant yet of their number and their nation. the adventurers looked through the loopholes which they had cut in the thick underwood for the passage of their firearms, to see what effect their volley had produced, the smoke now clearing away and permitting them to see more clearly. to their astonishment they could see no one; the enemy had vanished, as if blown to pieces by the fire. they began to think that they had retreated, although they had heard no sound of their retreat; they could scarcely believe that they were all dead. alexandre's impatience soon decided the question; determined to conquer, he chafed at the delay and mystery. his resolution was soon made. he left his ambush and broke out from the wood into the open. the mystery was quickly solved, for he was instantly attacked by the spaniards, who, when they saw him break cover, sprang up to their feet, with a shout, as swift as the foes of cadmus. alexandre, retreating for a moment to make his spring the surer, leaped upon the hostile captain and aimed a blow at his head with his sabre, which was warded off by a large scull-cap, from which the steel glanced. bras-de-fer was about to repeat his blow with better effect, when his foot caught in a root and he fell. closely pressed by his antagonist, and requiring all his skill to save his life, rising up, with his left hand and with his strong right arm, he struck the uplifted sabre from the hand of his enemy. this lucky blow of a defenceless man gave alexandre time to leap up and call the adventurers, who had not then left the ambush, and were now pouring out on every side, pressing the enemy in the rear and on the flank. having made a great carnage among the spaniards, the flibustiers, at a signal from alexandre, closed in, and, bearing down upon the craven and terrified foe sword in hand, slew them to a man, taking special care that not a single one should escape, for fear of spreading an alarm. the spanish crew remaining to keep guard in the vessel, had heard the sound of musketry, and at once supposed that their people had fallen in with some hostile indians, but knowing that their troops were brave and numerous, and believing they could easily cut a few savages to pieces, they sent no reinforcement, but contented themselves by discharging a noisy broadside to turn the scale of the supposed battle, and increase the terror of the fugitives. on the other hand, the victorious adventurers lost no time in following up their ambush by an ingenious stratagem. they stripped the dead, and arrayed themselves in their dress and arms. they then collected a quantity of their own indian arrows, which they had previously taken from savages which they had killed. then pulling their broad-brimmed panama hats over their eyes (even the captain's, with a red gash through it), and shouldering their arms, imitating the spanish march, and uttering shouts of "victory, victory," proceeded to the shore at the point nearest the vessel. the guards on board, seeing their supposed companions returned so soon, victorious, laden with spoil, and each one carrying a sheaf of arrows, received them with open arms as they clambered up by the main-chains. before they could recover from their astonishment, the buccaneers were masters of the vessel. there was scarcely any struggle, for only the sailors and a few marines had been left on board. the surprise was complete and sudden, and the most watchful might be pardoned for being deluded by such an artifice. the adventurers found the vessel laden with costly merchandise, and soon started with it upon a trip of a very different nature from that for which it had been first intended. oexmelin laments that in many other adventures which alexandre told him, he found that he passed too lightly over his own exploits, and attributed all the glory to the courage of his companions. but when his comerades related the story, they were not so generous to him as he had been to them, and, either from envy or shame, suppressed many of his noblest actions. he concludes his sketch of the two alexanders with incomparable _naïveté_ in the following manner: "au reste, je ne prétends pas que la comparaison soit toute-à-fait juste, car s'il y a quelque rapport, _il y a encore plus de différence_. en effet il étoit aussi brave que téméraire, et lui étoit brave que prudent. alexandre aymoit le vin, et lui l'eau-de-vie. aussi alexandre fuyoit les femmes par grandeur d'âme, et luy les cherchoit par tendresse de coeur; et pour preuve de ce que je dis il s'en trouve une assez belle dans le vaisseau dont j'ay parlé, qu'il préféra à tout l'avantage du butin." "to conclude: if i have compared him to the great alexander, i do not pretend that the comparison is altogether just; for, if there are some points of resemblance, there are many more of difference. of a truth, the one alexander was as brave as he was headstrong, the other as brave as he was prudent; the one loved wine, and the other brandy; the one fled from women through real greatness of heart, the other sought them from a natural tenderness of soul; and, as a proof of what i say, he met a beautiful woman in the vessel of which i have spoken, whom he valued more than all the other spoil." providence, a french moral philosopher ventures to suggest, raised up the buccaneers to revenge on the spaniards all the sufferings and injustices of the indians. the spaniard was the scourge of the indian, and the buccaneer the scourge of the spaniard. lolonnois and montbars are always considered as equal claimants for the hateful pre-eminence of being the most ferocious of the whole buccaneer brotherhood, considering them from their origin to their extinction. but the sovereignty of blood must be at once awarded to lolonnois. montbars seldom killed a spaniard who begged for mercy, while lolonnois delighted to spurn them from his feet, and slew all he could without pity, or even regard for ransom. it was from the very lips of lolonnois that oexmelin was informed that montbars was sprung from one of the best families in languedoc. he was well educated, but soon disregarded every other study to practise martial exercise, and particularly shooting. these warlike sports he pursued with a concentrated, unremitting eagerness, approaching insanity. even as a boy, when firing with his cross-bow, he said he only wished to shoot well that he might know how to kill a spaniard. his mind had already become filled with a generous but cruel determination, which grew rapidly into monomania. the animal force of a strong but ill-balanced mind all grew to this point, and his thoughts by day, and his dreams by night, became but a reiteration and reblending of the one master passion. no one ever became his confidant, but the following is the general explanation given of the deeds of his after life. it is said that, in his early childhood, montbars had read of the almost incredible cruelties practised by the spaniards during the conquest of america. in the antilles, they had exhibited the horrors of the inquisition in broad daylight. fanaticism, avarice, and ambition had ruled like a trinity of devils over the beautiful regions, desolated and plague-smitten; whole nations had become extinct, and the name of christ was polluted into the mere cypher of an armed and aggressive commerce. these books had impressed the gloomy boy with a deep, absorbing, fanatical hatred of the conquerors, and a fierce pity for the conquered. he believed himself marked out by god as the gideon sent to their relief. dreams of riches and gratified ambition spurred him unconsciously to the task. he thought and dreamed of nothing but the murdered indians. he inquired eagerly from travellers for news from america, and testified prodigious and ungovernable joy when he heard that the spaniards had been defeated by the caribs or the bravos. he indeed knew by heart every deed of atrocity that history recorded of his enemies, and would dilate on each one with a rude and impatient eloquence. the following story he was frequently accustomed to relate, and to gloat over with a look that indicated a mind capable of even greater cruelty, if once led away by a fanatic spirit of retaliation. a spaniard, the story ran, was once upon a time appointed governor of an indian province, which was inhabited by a fierce and warlike race of savages. he proved a cruel governor, unforgiving in his resentments, and insatiable in his avarice. the indians, unable any longer to endure either his barbarities or his exactions, seized him, and, showing him gold, told him that they had at last been able, by great good luck, to find enough to satisfy his demands. they then held him firm, and melting the ore, poured it down his throat till he expired in torments under their hands. on one occasion, montbars openly showed that his reason was somewhat disturbed, and that, on the one subject of his thoughts, he had ceased to be able to reflect calmly. while a boy, he had to take part in a comedy which was to be acted by himself and the fellow-students of the college, for his friends either ignored or disregarded his dreams and fancies. amongst other scenes was a prologue, in the shape of a dialogue between a spaniard and a frenchman. montbars was to represent the frenchman, and his companion the spaniard. the spaniard, appearing first upon the stage, began to utter a thousand invectives against france, mingled with much ribald rhodomontade, and montbars became excited, and could not contain his impatience. to his heated mind the mimic scene became a reality. he broke in upon the stage, furiously interrupted his comerade in the middle of his speech, and, loading him with blows, would certainly have put him to death on the spot, as "a spanish liar and murderer," had the combatants not been separated by the terrified bystanders. his father, rich, and loving his son much, perhaps all the better for these wayward eccentricities, which, he believed, contact of the world and the pleasures of youth would soon drive from his memory, desired to enrol him in the army, or induce him to enter some profession. but to all his questions and entreaties the boy only replied, that all he wanted was "to fight against the spaniards." seeing that his friends would oppose his project, he ran away from his father's house, and took refuge at havre with an uncle who commanded one of the french king's ships. he was about to start on a cruise against spain, with whom france was then at war, and, pleased at the boy's avowed attachment to a maritime life, wrote to his father, approving of the boy's resolution. the father reluctantly gave what could be construed into a consent, and in a few days the vessel sailed. during the voyage out, the young fanatic evinced the greatest eagerness for an engagement, and directly a vessel appeared in sight ran to arm himself, hoping it might be a spaniard. at length, one did in reality appear, and he had an opportunity of distinguishing himself against his declared enemies. they gave chase to the spanish vessel, and received her broadside. the elder montbars, seeing his nephew intoxicated with joy, and, disregarding all risk of exposure, determining to throw away his life, clapped him under hatches, as a reckless boy, and only let him rush out when the boarding commenced, and the enemy's vessel was evidently their own. the liberated youth led the boarders with all the calmness of a veteran man-of-war's-man. leaping, sabre in hand, upon the foe, he fought with them pell-mell, broke through their thickest ranks, and, followed by a few whom his courage animated to rival his own rashness, rushed twice from end to end of the spanish vessel, mowing down all he met to the right and left. the spaniards were refused quarter, those who escaped the sword perished in the sea, and montbars, to whom the honour of the victory was unanimously awarded, refused quarter to a single one. the prize was found full of spoil, the hold crammed with riches, containing , bales of cotton, bales of silk, besides indian stuffs, packets of incense, and of cloves, which made up the treasure. in addition to all this, they found a small casket of diamonds, the case clasped with iron, and fastened with four locks, which alone outvalued all the bulkier merchandise. while his uncle and the sailors exulted over these treasures, montbars was counting the dead spaniards, and gloating over the first victims of the hecatomb he still hoped to slay. blood, and not booty, was his object. in spite of the young victor, a few spanish sailors and officers had been spared in the general carnage. from these survivors they learnt that two other vessels had been parted from them in a storm, near where they then were (st. domingo), and that their rendezvous had been fixed at port margot. captain montbars determined to wait for them there, and to capture them by the stratagem of sending the captured vessel with its spanish colours out to meet them, as a decoy. while the french vessel and its prize lay waiting at the rendezvous, some huntsmen's boats came off to sea, bringing boucaned meat to barter for brandy. the buccaneers apologised for bringing so little meat, saying, "that a band of spanish fifties had lately ravaged their district, burnt their hides, stolen their dried meat, and burnt their boucans." "and why do you suffer it?" said montbars, impetuously, for he had been listening eagerly all this time, to the recital of a new proof of spanish perfidy. "we do not suffer it," answered the huntsmen, roughly. "the spaniards know well what sort of people we are, and they chose a time when we were all away cow-killing; but our day is coming. we are now collecting our companions, who have suffered worse than we have; we have given notice far and wide, and if the fifty grow to , we shall soon bring them to bay." "if you are willing," says montbars, "i will march at your head. i do not want to command you, but to expose myself first, to show you what i am ready to do against these accursed spaniards." the old hunters, astonished at the daring of a mere youth, and glad of another musket, accepted his proposal. his uncle, unable to rein him in, and already weary of so hot-brained a volunteer, yielded to his entreaties. he permitted him to go, giving him a party of seamen to guard him, and supplied him with but few provisions, in hopes of bringing him quickly back. he threatened, on parting, to leave him behind if he was not on board to the very hour, then calling him a foolish madcap, and cursing him for a hair-brain, he dismissed him with his blessing, swearing the next minute there wasn't a braver lad at that moment treading a plank. montbars departed with some uneasiness, not caring about his uncle's advice or the scantiness of provisions, but only afraid that he might miss the spaniards on land, and be absent also when the spanish vessels were attacked. he wanted no greater inducement to hurry his return than the prospect of a naval engagement. he had scarcely landed with his men, when the hunters brought them into a small savannah surrounded by hills and woods. they had not taken many steps across this broad hunting-ground before they saw some mounted spaniards appear in the distance--these men were part of a troop that had collected, hearing that the buccaneers were assembling to attack them. montbars, transported with rage at the sight of a spaniard, would have rushed at once upon them, single-handed, but an old experienced buccaneer caught him by the arm: "stop," said he, "there is plenty of time, and, if you do what i tell you, not one of these fellows shall escape." these words, "not one," would at any time have arrested montbars, and they did so then. the old buccaneer, crying a halt, bade the men turn their backs on the spaniards, as if they had not seen them. he next unrolled the linen tent, which he carried in the usual fashion of his craft, and began to pitch it, followed by all his companions, who did the same, imitating their fugleman, without inquiry, trusting to the address that had often before delivered them out of danger. they then drew out their brandy flasks and affected to prepare for a revel, intending to deceive the spaniards, who, they knew, would give them time to drink, in hopes of surprising them, an easy prey, when asleep. the empty horns were passed round with jokes, and songs, and shouts, and the corked flasks circulated as merrily as if the feast had been a real one. without appearing to observe, they could see the spanish patrols disappear over the ridge of the hill, to warn their men in the valley to prepare for a night surprise. the buccaneer leader, passing the signal from hand to hand, sent an _engagé_ into the woods to quickly rouse all the "brothers" in the neighbourhood, to bid them come and help them, and to prepare an ambush in the opposite forest. in the mean time, other scouts were sent to watch the motions of the enemy, to be sure that they were coming, and were not making any flank movement. at dusk the buccaneers slipped quietly from beneath their tents, and crept into the adjacent woods. here they found their companions and their _engagés_ already assembled and eager for the attack. montbars, weary of all preparations, was now burning to see the spaniards, declared they never would come, and that they had better go out and surprise them while night lasted; but the spaniards were purposely delaying, knowing that the longer they delayed the deeper would be the sleep of the revellers. at daybreak, they could see a dark troop beginning to move forward over the ridge, and soon to descend the hill into the plain in good order, a small detachment marching before them as a forlorn hope. the buccaneers, well posted and unobserved, waited for them, sure of their prey, for the tents being pitched at some distance one from the other, they could see every movement of the spaniards. as they drew nearer, the fifties broke into small troops, and each encircled a tent. to their astonishment, at that moment the wood grew a flame, and a hot rolling fire led on the advancing buccaneers, who, breaking out with yell and shout, very terrible in the silence of the dawning, overthrew horse and rider. montbars, inspired by the fever of the onslaught, which always seemed for a moment to restore the balance of his mind, leaped on a horse, whose rider he had killed, and headed the attack. wherever resistance was made, he rode in, charging every knot of troopers as they attempted to rally. hurrying on too far beyond his companions, while breaking into the heart of the squadron, he was surrounded, and would have been quickly overpowered had he not been rescued by a determined rush of his men. more furious at this escape, he pursued the scattered enemy right and left, with increased fury, inflicting blows as dreadful as they were unusual. one of the buccaneers, seeing many of his men suffering from the indian arrows, cried out to the indians, in spanish, pointing to montbars, "do you not see that god has sent you a liberator, who fights for you, to deliver you from the spaniards, and yet you still fight for your tyrants?" hearing these words, and astonished at montbars' contempt for death, the archers changed sides and turned their arrows against the spaniards, who fled, overwhelmed by this new misfortune, and perhaps impelled by an undefinable and superstitious terror. montbars looked upon this day as the happiest in his life. he had seen the indians he had so pitied fighting by his side, and regarding him as their protector. cleaving down a wounded spaniard, who clung to his knees and begged for mercy, he cried, "i would it were the last of this accursed race." an eye witness of the battle describes the carnage as horrible--the living trampling on the living, and stumbling over the dying and the dead. the buccaneers and the indians, rejoicing in their liberty and their revenge, entreated montbars to follow up his successes, and wanted at once to ravage the spanish plantations, and extirpate the survivors, while they were still discouraged. montbars gladly consented to the proposal, and was about to march exultingly at their head, when the boom of a cannon was heard. it was the report of a gun from his uncle's vessel, and he could not resist obeying a signal that might be the signal of an approaching battle. he instantly hurried back, but found, to his annoyance, that the signal had been only fired as a warning to announce the hour of instant sailing. the hunters, already attached to their young leader, refused to leave him, and the indians were afraid to abide the vengeance of the spaniards. they were all therefore at once placed on board the prize, and supplied with muskets and sabres. the delighted uncle appointed montbars as captain, with an old officer, under the name of lieutenant, to act as his guardian. after eight days' sail, montbars was attacked, at the mouth of a large key, by four spanish vessels, each one larger than his own. they surrounded him so suddenly that he had no time to escape, and he lay amongst them like a wolf at bay. they formed, in fact, the van of the great indian plate fleet, which was, every year, as eagerly expected by the king of spain as it was by all the marauders of the spanish main. the elder montbars, bold and hardy, unhesitatingly attacked two of the vessels, and several times drove back their boarders. although gouty himself and unable to move, the staunch old gascon shouted his orders from his elbow chair; and, cursing alternately the enemy and the disease, defended his ship to the last extremity. having fought for more than three hours with ferocious obstinacy, and seeing his young hero terribly pressed by his two adversaries, he resolved upon a final effort, the last struggle of a wild beast that feels the knife is at his throat. firing a tremendous broadside, he attacked both his enemies with such fury that he sank them and himself, and died "laughing" in all the exultation of that revenge which is the only victory of despair. montbars the younger made great exertions to save himself and to avenge his uncle. the old lion was dead, but the cub had much life in him yet. he sank one of his antagonists with a crashing shot and boarded the other. his indians, seeing their leader enter the spanish vessel at one end, threw themselves into the water and clambered promptly up the other. their war-cries and arrows produced a powerful diversion, and took the spaniards by surprise. throwing many into the sea, they killed others, while montbars put all that resisted to the sword. in a short time he was master of a vessel larger even than those that had been sunk. the friendly indians, who now looked upon him as an invincible demigod, he employed in a fruitless search for his uncle's body. conquerors and conquered were destined to remain locked in each other's arms, and piled over with bloody trophies of burnt wreck until the day that the sea should give up her dead. the hunters renewed their proposal of a descent upon the mainland, and montbars agreed to any scheme which would enable him to avenge his uncle and his friends. he had formerly lived to avenge the wrongs of others, to these were now added his own. the governor of the province, hearing of the contemplated attack, prepared an ambuscade of negroes and militiamen. putting himself at the head of men, divided into three battalions, his wings strengthened with cavalry and his van guarded with cannon, he prepared to prevent the landing of the "exterminator." these preparations only increased the ardour of montbars. it seemed cowardly to ravage an unprotected country: its devastation, after defeating its defenders, was a reward of conquest. montbars was the first to leap from the canoes, and the first to rush upon the spanish pikes. the front battalion was soon repulsed, and some indians taking the reserve force in the flank, they were driven back in great disorder. montbars, hotly pursuing, made a prodigious carnage of the enemy, and carried fire and sword far into the interior. one day, while at sea, the young captain, already a veteran in experience, was obliged to put into a bay to careen. to his great surprise, although the place was a mere track of sand, he saw some spaniards on a distant plain, marching in good order and well-armed. fearing that if they saw his men they would take to flight, he sent a few of his favourite indians to decoy them towards him. then falling upon them with fury as they cried out for quarter montbars shouted, in spanish, that they had nothing to hope for till they had killed himself and all his men. these dreadful words, together with his revengeful looks, drove them to take up their arms and fight with dogged and brutal despair, till they were slain almost to a man. advancing into the country in search of more human prey, montbars carried off the arms of the spaniards and a great quantity of fruits and provisions. it appeared, from a survivor, that the spaniards had arrived in that country in a singular manner. they had formed the crew in guard of a vessel full of negro slaves who had conspired together to drive the ship on shore. they had secretly bored holes in the ship's hold, in which they had placed pluggets, which they drew out, and replaced, unseen, and in a moment. while the spaniards were seated together, talking with their usual stately, stolid phlegm, this unaccountable leak would break out and fill the cabin, or drench them in their hammocks. the slaves never seemed alarmed, but always astonished, and filled the air with interjections, in the congo language. the water rushing in pell-mell, even the ship's carpenter did not know from where, drove all hands, at great danger to the ship, almost to leave the helm to save the cargo, which was already damaged. the negroes, quiet and orderly, would generally succeed, after a time, in stopping the leak, and excited general admiration by their promptitude and naval skill. all then went on well for a time; but with the least wind or storm the leak recommenced, till the very captain began reluctantly to confess, with tears in his eyes, that they were all as good as lost, for the vessel was dangerous, and not seaworthy. in the middle of the night, or at meal time, this supernatural leak would recommence, till the pumps were all but worn out, and the men faint with want of sleep. one day, when the vessel was skirting a reef, the negroes watched the opportunity, and the leak commenced with redoubled fury, the slaves howling as if from the very disquietness of their hearts. the spaniards, thinking all hope lost, and the vessel, as they declared, already beginning to settle down, abandoned the ship, and threw themselves on that very tongue of land where montbars afterwards surprised them. the trick had been cleverly planned and cleverly executed, but a hitch in the machinery had nearly ruined all. one of the blacks, more timid or less sagacious than the rest, seeing the water pour in with more than usual impetuosity, and on all sides, lost his presence of mind. not able at once, in his panic, to find the hole which he had to stop, he believed that his companions had also failed, and that all was indeed lost, and, throwing himself overboard without inquiring, he joined the spaniards, who were thanking god (prematurely) for their deliverance. looking back for his companions, to his horror he saw a dozen of them tugging at the helm, and putting out wildly to sea. the truth flashed upon him, and he knew in a moment that his safety was a loss. giving way to uncontrollable despair, he tore his wool, and stamped his feet, and cursed his fetish, and stretched out his hands, as if to stay the parting vessel. the spaniards, astonished at this apparently passionate desire to be drowned, began slowly to discover the successful stratagem. they looked: "demonio, st. antonio!"--the vessel did not sink, but glided swiftly out to sea. they could see the blacks laughing, pulling at the ropes, and grinning from the port-holes. they turned with fury on the unhappy survivor, and put him to the torture till he confessed the truth. and this story completes all that history has preserved of one of the strangest combinations of fanatic and soldier that has ever appeared since the days of loyola. in another age, and under other circumstances, he might have become a second mohammed. equally remorseless, his ambition, though narrower, seems to have been no less fervid. if he was cruel, we must allow him to have been sincere even in his fanaticism. daring, untiring, of unequalled courage, and unmatched resolution, the cruelty of the spaniards he put down by greater cruelty. he passes from us into unknown seas, and we hear of him no more. he died probably unconscious of crime, unpitying and unpitied. oexmelin, who saw montbars at honduras, describes him as active, vivacious, and full of fire, like all the gascons. he was of tall stature, erect and firm, his air grand, noble, and martial. his complexion was sun-burnt, and the colour of his eyes could not be discerned under the deep, arched vaulting of his bushy eyebrows. his very glance in battle was said to intimidate the spaniards, and to drive them to despair. in , santiago was pillaged by the flibustiers, in revenge for the murder of twelve frenchmen, who had been shot by a spanish captain, who took them from a flemish vessel, sparing only a woman, and a child who hid itself under the robe of a monk. determined on retaliation, the people of the coast assembled to the number of . obtaining an english commission, they embarked on board a frigate from nantes, and a number of small craft--de l'isle being their commander, and adam, lormel, and anne le roux their lieutenants. they landed at puerto de plata, "le dimanche des rameaux," and marched upon st. jago at daybreak. passing over the bodies of the guards, they rushed to the governor's house, and surprised him in bed. he, knowing french, threw himself on his knees, and told them that peace was about to be declared between the two nations. they replied, that they carried an english commission, and, reproaching him for his cruelties, bade him either prepare for death, or pay down , crowns. part of this ransom he instantly paid in hides. the pillage of the town lasted twenty-four hours, and nothing was spared; the very bells were carried from the churches, and the altars stripped of their plate. no violence, however, we are glad to record, was offered to the women, the brotherhood having agreed, that any such offender should lose his share of the spoil. end of vol. i. london: sercombe and jack, great windmill street. interesting new works. * * * * * memoirs of the right honourable richard lalor sheil. by torrens m'cullagh, esq. vols. post vo. "we feel assured that mr. m'cullagh's work will be received with general satisfaction."--_literary gazette._ "such a man as sheil eminently deserved a biography, and mr. m'cullagh has, we think, proved himself an exceedingly proper person to undertake it. his narrative is lucid and pleasant, sound and hearty in sentiment, and sensible in dissertation; altogether we may emphatically call this an excellent biography."--_daily news._ * * * * * sketches, legal and political, by the late right honourable richard lalor sheil. vols. post vo. opinions of the press. athenÆum. "we cordially recommend these sketches as interesting in matter and brilliant in composition. their literary merit is very great." messenger. "these volumes will delight the student and charm the general reader." dublin evening mail. "these volumes contain more matter of high and enduring interest to all classes of readers than any publication of equal extent, professing to illustrate the social and literary position or treat of the domestic manners and history of our country." dublin university magazine. "of the great power and brilliancy of these papers there can be no second opinion. in the british senate, as in his own native land, the name of richard lalor sheil will be long remembered in connexion with eloquence and learning and with genius. in these volumes he has left a memorial of all the gems of his rich and varied intellect--every phase and line of his versatile and prolific mind." * * * * * _also, just ready,_ mr. curran's sketches of the irish bar. with a selection of other papers, legal, literary, and political. vols. post vo. cheap edition of miss burney's diary. _in seven volumes, small vo,_ embellished with portraits, _price only s. each, elegantly bound, either of which may be had separately,_ diary and letters of madame d'arblay, author of "evelina," "cecilia," &c. including the period of her residence at the court of queen charlotte. * * * * * opinions of the press. edinburgh review. "madame d'arblay lived to be classic. time set on her fame, before she went hence, that seal which is seldom set except on the fame of the departed. all those whom we have been accustomed to revere as intellectual patriarchs seemed children when compared with her; for burke had sat up all night to read her writings, and johnson had pronounced her superior to fielding, when rogers was still a schoolboy, and southey still in petticoats. her diary is written in her earliest and best manner; in true woman's english, clear, natural, and lively. it ought to be consulted by every person who wishes to be well acquainted with the history of our literature and our manners." times. "miss burney's work ought to be placed beside boswell's 'life,' to which it forms an excellent supplement." literary gazette. "this publication will take its place in the libraries beside walpole and boswell." messenger. "this work may be considered a kind of supplement to boswell's life of johnson. it is a beautiful picture of society as it existed in manners, taste, and literature, in the reign of george the third, drawn by a pencil as vivid and brilliant as that of any of the celebrated persons who composed the circle." post. "miss burney's diary, sparkling with wit, teeming with lively anecdote and delectable gossip, and full of sound and discreet views of persons and things, will be perused with interest by all classes of readers." cheap edition of the lives of the queens. _now in course of publication, in eight volumes, post octavo (comprising from to pages each), price only s. d. per volume, elegantly bound, either of which may be had separately, to complete sets_, lives of the queens of england. by agnes strickland. dedicated by express permission to her majesty. embellished with portraits of every queen, beautifully engraved from the most authentic sources. in announcing a cheap edition of this important and interesting work, which has been considered unique in biographical literature, the publishers again beg to direct attention to the following extract from the author's preface:--"a revised edition of the 'lives of the queens of england', embodying the important collections which have been brought to light since the appearance of earlier impressions, is now offered to the world, embellished with portraits of every queen, from authentic and properly verified sources. the series, commencing with the consort of william the conqueror, occupies that most interesting and important period of our national chronology, from the death of the last monarch of the anglo-saxon line, edward the confessor, to the demise of the last sovereign of the royal house of stuart, queen anne, and comprises therein thirty queens who have worn the crown-matrimonial, and four the regal diadem of this realm. we have related the parentage of every queen, described her education, traced the influence of family connexions and national habits on her conduct, both public and private, and given a concise outline of the domestic, as well as the general history of her times, and its effects on her character, and we have done so with singleness of heart, unbiassed by selfish interests or narrow views. such as they were in life we have endeavoured to portray them, both in good and ill, without regard to any other considerations than the development of the _facts_. their sayings, their doings, their manners, their costume, will be found faithfully chronicled in this work, which also includes the most interesting of their letters. the hope that the 'lives of the queens of england' might be regarded as a national work, honourable to the female character, and generally useful to society, has encouraged us to the completion of the task." * * * * * opinions of the press. from the times. "these volumes have the fascination of romance united to the integrity of history. the work is written by a lady of considerable learning, indefatigable industry, and careful judgment. all these qualifications for a biographer and an historian she has brought to bear upon the subject of her volumes, and from them has resulted a narrative interesting to all, and more particularly interesting to that portion of the community to whom the more refined researches of literature afford pleasure and instruction. the whole work should be read, and no doubt will be read, by all who are anxious for information. it is a lucid arrangement of facts, derived from authentic sources, exhibiting a combination of industry, learning, judgment, and impartiality, not often met with in biographers of crowned heads." morning herald. "a remarkable and truly great historical work. in this series of biographies, in which the severe truth of history takes almost the wildness of romance, it is the singular merit of miss strickland that her research has enabled her to throw new light on many doubtful passages, to bring forth fresh facts, and to render every portion of our annals which she has described an interesting and valuable study. she has given a most valuable contribution to the history of england, and we have no hesitation in affirming that no one can be said to possess an accurate knowledge of the history of the country who has not studied this truly national work, which, in this new edition, has received all the aids that further research on the part of the author, and of embellishment on the part of the publishers, could tend to make it still more valuable, and still more attractive, than it had been in its original form." morning chronicle. "a most valuable and entertaining work. there is certainly no lady of our day who has devoted her pen to so beneficial a purpose as miss strickland. nor is there any other whose works possess a deeper or more enduring interest." morning post. "we must pronounce miss strickland beyond all comparison the most entertaining historian in the english language. she is certainly a woman of powerful and active mind, as well as of scrupulous justice and honesty of purpose." quarterly review. "miss strickland has made a very judicious use of many authentic ms. authorities not previously collected, and the result is a most interesting addition to our biographical library." athenÆum. "a valuable contribution to historical knowledge. it contains a mass of every kind of historical matter of interest, which industry and research could collect. we have derived much entertainment and instruction from the work." cheap edition of pepys' diary and correspondence. _now ready, a new and cheap edition, printed uniformly with the last edition of_ evelyn's diary, _and comprising all the recent notes and emendations, indexes, &c., in four volumes, post octavo, with portraits, price s. per volume, handsomely bound, of the_ diary and correspondence of samuel pepys, f.r.s., secretary to the admiralty in the reigns of charles ii. and james ii. edited by richard lord braybrooke. the authority of pepys, as an historian and illustrator of a considerable portion of the seventeenth century, has been so fully acknowledged by every scholar and critic, that it is now scarcely necessary to remind the reader of the advantages he possessed for producing the most complete and trustworthy record of events, and the most agreeable picture of society and manners, to be found in the literature of any nation. in confidential communication with the reigning sovereigns, holding high official employment, placed at the head of the scientific and learned of a period remarkable for intellectual impulse, mingling in every circle, and observing everything and everybody whose characteristics were worth noting down; and possessing, moreover, an intelligence peculiarly fitted for seizing the most graphic points in whatever he attempted to delineate, pepys may be considered the most valuable as well as the most entertaining of our national historians. a new and cheap edition of this work, comprising all the restored passages and the additional annotations that have been called for by the vast advances in antiquarian and historical knowledge during the last twenty years, will doubtless be regarded as one of the most agreeable additions that could be made to the library of the general reader. opinions of the press on pepys' diary. from the edinburgh review. "without making any exception in favour of any other production of ancient or modern diarists, we unhesitatingly characterise this journal as the most remarkable production of its kind which has ever been given to the world. pepys' diary makes us comprehend the great historical events of the age, and the people who bore a part in them, and gives us more clear glimpses into the true english life of the times than all the other memorials of them that have come down to our own." from the quarterly review. "there is much in pepys' diary that throws a distinct and vivid light over the picture of england and its government during the period succeeding the restoration. if, quitting the broad path of history, we look for minute information concerning ancient manners and customs, the progress of arts and sciences, and the various branches of antiquity, we have never seen a mine so rich as these volumes. the variety of pepys' tastes and pursuits led him into almost every department of life. he was a man of business, a man of information, a man of whim, and, to a certain degree, a man of pleasure. he was a statesman, a _bel-esprit_, a virtuoso, and a connoisseur. his curiosity made him an unwearied, as well as an universal, learner, and whatever he saw found its way into his tablets." from the athenÆum. "the best book of its kind in the english language. the new matter is extremely curious, and occasionally far more characteristic and entertaining than the old. the writer is seen in a clearer light, and the reader is taken into his inmost soul. pepys' diary is the ablest picture of the age in which the writer lived, and a work of standard importance in english literature." from the examiner. "we place a high value on pepys' diary as the richest and most delightful contribution ever made to the history of english life and manners in the latter half of the seventeenth century." from tait's magazine. "we owe pepys a debt of gratitude for the rare and curious information he has bequeathed to us in this most amusing and interesting work. his diary is valuable, as depicting to us many of the most important characters of the times. its author has bequeathed to us the records of his heart--the very reflection of his energetic mind; and his quaint but happy narrative clears up numerous disputed points--throws light into many of the dark corners of history, and lays bare the hidden substratum of events which gave birth to, and supported the visible progress of, the nation." from the morning post. "of all the records that have ever been published, pepys' diary gives us the most vivid and trustworthy picture of the times, and the clearest view of the state of english public affairs and of english society during the reign of charles ii. we see there, as in a map, the vices of the monarch, the intrigues of the cabinet, the wanton follies of the court, and the many calamities to which the nation was subjected during the memorable period of fire, plague, and general licentiousness." important new historical work. _now ready, in vols. post vo, embellished with portraits, price s. bound,_ the queens before the conquest. by mrs. matthew hall. opinions of the press. from the literary gazette. "mrs. hall's work presents a clear and connected series of records of the early female sovereigns of england, of whom only a few scattered anecdotes have hitherto been familiarly known to general readers. the book is of great interest, as containing many notices of english life and manners in the remote times of our british, roman, saxon, and danish ancestors." sunday times. "these volumes open up a new and interesting page of history to the majority of readers. what miss strickland has achieved for english queens since the norman era, has been accomplished by mrs. hall on behalf of the royal ladies who, as wives of saxon kings, have influenced the destinies of britain." sun. "mrs. hall may be congratulated on having successfully accomplished a very arduous undertaking. her volumes form a useful introduction to the usual commencement of english history." critic. "the most instructive history we possess of the pre-conquest period. it should take its place by the side of miss strickland's 'lives of the queens.'" observer. "of all our female historico-biographical writers, mrs. hall seems to us to be one of the most painstaking, erudite, and variously and profoundly accomplished. her valuable volumes contain not only the lives of the queens before the conquest, but a very excellent history of england previously to the norman dynasty." bell's messenger. "these interesting volumes have been compiled with judgment, discretion, and taste. mrs. hall has spared neither pains nor labour to make her history worthy of the characters she has essayed to illustrate. the book is, in every sense, an addition of decided value to the annals of the british people." new quarterly review. "these volumes have long been a desideratum, and will be hailed as a useful, and indeed essential, introduction to miss strickland's world-famous biographical history." the peerage and baronetage of the british empire. by sir bernard burke, ulster king of arms. a new edition, revised and corrected from the personal communications of the nobility, &c. with engravings of arms. in vol. (comprising as much matter as twenty ordinary volumes), s. bound. * * * * * the following is a list of the principal contents of this standard work:-- i. a full and interesting history of each order of the english nobility, showing its origin, rise, titles, immunities, privileges, &c. ii. a complete memoir of the queen and royal family, forming a brief genealogical history of the sovereign of this country, and deducing the descent of the plantagenets, tudors, stuarts, and guelphs, through their various ramifications. to this section is appended a list of those peers and others who inherit the distinguished honour of quartering the royal arms of plantagenet. iii. an authentic table of precedence. iv. a perfect history of all the peers and baronets, with the fullest details of their ancestors and descendants, and particulars respecting every collateral member of each family, and all intermarriages, &c. v. the spiritual lords. vi. foreign noblemen, subjects by birth of the british crown. vii. extinct peerages, of which descendants still exist. viii. peerages claimed. ix. surnames of peers and peeresses, with heirs apparent and presumptive. x. courtesy titles of eldest sons. xi. peerages of the three kingdoms in order of precedence. xii. baronets in order of precedence. xiii. privy councillors of england and ireland. xiv. daughters of peers married to commoners. xv. all the orders of knighthood, with every knight and all the knights bachelors. xvi. mottoes translated, with poetical illustrations. * * * * * "the most complete, the most convenient, and the cheapest work of the kind ever given to the public."--_sun_. "the best genealogical and heraldic dictionary of the peerage and baronetage, and the first authority on all questions affecting the aristocracy."--_globe_. "for the amazing quantity of personal and family history, admirable arrangement of details, and accuracy of information, this genealogical and heraldic dictionary is without a rival. it is now the standard and acknowledged book of reference upon all questions touching pedigree, and direct or collateral affinity with the titled aristocracy. the lineage of each distinguished house is deduced through all the various ramifications. every collateral branch, however remotely connected, is introduced; and the alliances are so carefully inserted, as to show, in all instances, the connexion which so intimately exists between the titled and untitled aristocracy. we have also much most entertaining historical matter, and many very curious and interesting family traditions. the work is, in fact, a complete cyclopædia of the whole titled classes of the empire, supplying all the information that can possibly be desired on the subject."--_morning post_. cheap edition of the diary and correspondence of john evelyn, f.r.s. _now completed, with portraits, in four volumes, post octavo (either of which may be had separately), price s. each, handsomely bound,_ comprising all the important additional notes, letters, and other illustrations last made. "we rejoice to welcome this beautiful and compact edition of evelyn. it is intended as a companion to the recent edition of pepys, and presents similar claims to interest and notice. evelyn was greatly above the vast majority of his contemporaries, and the diary which records the incidents in his long life, extending over the greater part of a century, is deservedly esteemed one of the most valuable and interesting books in the language. evelyn took part in the breaking out of the civil war against charles i., and he lived to see william of orange ascend the throne. through the days of strafford and land, to those of sancroft and ken, he was the steady friend of moderation and peace in the english church. he interceded alike for the royalist and the regicide; he was the correspondent of cowley, the patron of jeremy taylor, the associate and fellow-student of boyle; and over all the interval between vandyck and kneller, between the youth of milton and the old age of dryden, poetry and the arts found him an intelligent adviser, and a cordial friend. there are, on the whole, very few men of whom england has more reason to be proud. he stands among the first in the list of gentlemen. we heartily commend so good an edition of this english classic."--_examiner._ "this work is a necessary companion to the popular histories of our country, to hume, hallam, macaulay, and lingard.--_sun._ lives of the princesses of england. by mrs. everett green, editor of the "letters of royal and illustrious ladies." vols., post vo, with illustrations, s. d. each, bound. either of which may be had separately. "this work is a worthy companion to miss strickland's admirable 'queens of england.' that celebrated work, although its heroines were, for the most part, foreign princesses, related almost entirely to the history of this country. the princesses of england, on the contrary, are themselves english, but their lives are nearly all connected with foreign nations. their biographies, consequently, afford us a glimpse of the manners and customs of the chief european kingdoms, a circumstance which not only gives to the work the charm of variety, but which is likely to render it peculiarly useful to the general reader, as it links together by association the contemporaneous history of various nations. we cordially commend mrs. green's production to general attention; it is (necessarily) as useful as history, and fully as entertaining as romance."--_sun._ sir b. burke's dictionary of the extinct, dormant, and abeyant peerages of england, scotland and ireland. beautifully printed, in vol, vo, containing double-column pages, s. bound. this work connects, in many instances, the new with the old nobility, and it will in all cases show the cause which has influenced the revival of an extinct dignity in a new creation. it should be particularly noticed, that this new work appertains nearly as much to extant as to extinct persons of distinction; for though dignities pass away, it rarely occurs that whole families do. history of the landed gentry. a genealogical dictionary of the whole of the untitled aristocracy of england, scotland, and ireland. by sir bernard burke. a new and improved edition, in vol., uniform with the "peerage." -->the purchasers of the earlier editions of the dictionary of the landed gentry are requested to take notice that a copious index has been compiled with great care and at great expense, containing references to the names of every person (upwards of , ) mentioned in the work, and may be had bound uniformly with the work: price, s. romantic records of the aristocracy. by sir bernard burke. second and cheaper edition, vols., post vo, s. bound. "the most curious incidents, the most stirring tales, and the most remarkable circumstances connected with the histories, public and private, of our noble houses and aristocratic families, are here given in a shape which will preserve them in the library, and render them the favorite study of those who are interested in the romance of real life. these stories, with all the reality of established fact, read with as much spirit as the tales of boccaccio, and are as full of strange matter for reflection and amazement."--_britannia._ revelations of prince talleyrand. second edition, volume, post vo, with portrait, s. d. bound. 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"this work is full of delightful sketches and sweet and enchanting pictures of rural life, and we have no doubt will be read not only at the homestead of the farmer, but at the mansion of the squire, or the castle of the lord, with gratification and delight."--_sunday times._ published for henry colburn, by his successors, hurst & blackett, great marlborough street. * * * * * transcriber's note: mismatched quotation marks in one paragraph of chapter iii were left as in the original. pg : nomade changed to nomadic pg : manchete changed to machete * * * * * transcriber's note: this is a faithful reproduction of the original work with the exception of changes listed at the end. also: notation: words in italics are indicated _like this_. but the publisher also wanted to emphasize names in sentences already italicized, so he printed them in the regular font which is indicated here with: _the pirates then went to =hispaniola=._ superscripts are indicated like this: s^{ta} maria. footnotes are located near the end of the work. * * * * * history of the buccaneers of america. by james burney, f.r.s. captain in the royal navy. london: _printed by luke hansard & sons, near lincoln's-inn fields;_ for payne and foss, pall-mall. . contents. chapter i. _considerations on the rights acquired by the discovery of unknown lands, and on the claims advanced by the spaniards._ chap. ii. _review of the dominion of the =spaniards= in =hayti= or =hispaniola=._ page hayti, or hispaniola, the land on which the spaniards first settled in america government of columbus dogs made use of against the indians massacre of the natives, and subjugation of the island heavy tribute imposed city of nueva ysabel, or santo domingo beginning of the repartimientos government of bovadilla _ib._ the natives compelled to work the mines nicolas ovando, governor _ib._ working the mines discontinued the natives again forced to the mines insurrection in higuey encomiendas established _ib._ africans carried to the west indies massacre of the people of xaragua death of queen ysabel desperate condition of the natives the grand antilles small antilles, or caribbee islands _ib._ lucayas, or bahama islands _ib._ the natives of the lucayas betrayed to the mines fate of the natives of porto rico d. diego columbus, governor _ib._ increase of cattle in hayti. cuba de las casas and cardinal ximenes endeavour to serve the indians cacique henriquez _ib._ footnotes chap. iii. _ships of different european nations frequent the =west indies=. opposition experienced by them from the spaniards. hunting of cattle in =hispaniola=._ adventure of an english ship the french and other europeans resort to the west indies regulation proposed in hispaniola, for protection against pirates _ib._ hunting of cattle in hispaniola matadores _ib._ guarda costas brethren of the coast chap. iv. _iniquitous settlement of the island =saint christopher= by the =english= and =french=. =tortuga= seized by the hunters. origin of the name =buccaneer=. the name =flibustier=. customs attributed to the =buccaneers=._ the english and french settle on saint christopher are driven away by the spaniards they return tortuga seized by the hunters whence the name buccaneer the name flibustier customs attributed to the buccaneers chap. v. _treaty made by the spaniards with don =henriquez=. increase of english and french in the =west indies=. =tortuga= surprised by the spaniards. policy of the english and french governments with respect to the buccaneers. =mansvelt=, his attempt to form an independent buccaneer establishment. french west-india company. =morgan= succeeds =mansvelt= as chief of the buccaneers._ cultivation in tortuga increase of the english and french settlements in the west indies _ib._ tortuga surprised by the spaniards is taken possession of for the crown of france policy of the english and french governments with respect to the buccaneers the buccaneers plunder new segovia the spaniards retake tortuga _ib._ with the assistance of the buccaneers the english take jamaica the french retake tortuga _ib._ pierre le grand, a french buccaneer _ib._ alexandre montbars, surnamed the exterminator _ib._ bartolomeo portuguez _ib._ l'olonnois, and michel le basque, take maracaibo and gibraltar outrages committed by l'olonnois _ib._ mansvelt, a buccaneer chief, attempts to form a buccaneer establishment island s^{ta} katalina, or providence; since named old providence _ib._ death of mansvelt french west-india company _ib._ the french settlers dispute their authority morgan succeeds mansvelt; plunders puerto del principe _ib._ maracaibo again pillaged morgan takes porto bello: his cruelty _ib._ he plunders maracaibo and gibraltar his contrivances to effect his retreat chap. vi. _treaty of =america=. expedition of the buccaneers against =panama=. exquemelin's history of the american sea rovers. misconduct of the european governors in the =west indies=._ treaty between great britain and spain expedition of the buccaneers against panama they take the island s^{ta}. katalina attack of the castle at the river chagre _ib._ their march across the isthmus the city of panama taken and burnt the buccaneers depart from panama exquemelin's history of the buccaneers of america flibustiers shipwrecked at porto rico; and put to death by the spaniards chap. vii. _=thomas peche.= attempt of =la sound= to cross the =isthmus of america=. voyage of =antonio de vea= to the =strait of magalhanes=. various adventures of the buccaneers, in the =west indies=, to the year ._ thomas peche la sound attempts to cross the isthmus _ib._ voyage of ant. de vea massacre of the french in samana french fleet wrecked on aves granmont _ib._ darien indians porto bello surprised by the buccaneers _ib._ chap. viii. _meeting of buccaneers at the =samballas=, and =golden island=. party formed by the english buccaneers to cross the =isthmus=. some account of the native inhabitants of the =mosquito shore=._ golden island account of the mosquito indians chap. ix. _journey of the buccaneers across the =isthmus of america=._ buccaneers commence their march fort of s^{ta} maria taken john coxon chosen commander they arrive at the south sea chap. x. _first buccaneer expedition in the =south sea=._ in the bay of panama island chepillo _ib._ battle with a small spanish armament _ib._ richard sawkins panama, the new city coxon returns to the west indies richard sawkins chosen commander _ib._ taboga; otoque attack of pueblo nuevo captain sawkins is killed _ib._ imposition practised by sharp sharp chosen commander some return to the west indies _ib._ the anchorage at quibo _ib._ island gorgona island plata adventure of seven buccaneers _ib._ ilo shoals of anchovies _ib._ la serena plundered and burnt _ib._ attempt of the spaniards to burn the ship of the buccaneers _ib._ island juan fernandez sharp deposed from the command watling elected commander _ib._ william, a mosquito indian, left on the island juan fernandez island yqueque; rio de camarones they attack arica _ib._ are repulsed; watling killed sharp again chosen commander huasco; ylo _ib._ the buccaneers separate proceedings of sharp and his followers _ib._ they enter a gulf shergall's harbour another harbour _ib._ the gulf is named the english gulf _ib._ duke of york's islands a native killed by the buccaneers native of patagonia carried away _ib._ passage round cape horn appearance like land, in ° ' s. _ib._ ice islands _ib._ arrive in the west indies sharp, and others, tried for piracy _ib._ chap. xi. _disputes between the french government and their west-india colonies. =morgan= becomes deputy governor of =jamaica=. =la vera cruz= surprised by the flibustiers. other of their enterprises._ prohibitions against piracy disregarded by the french buccaneers - sir henry morgan, deputy governor of jamaica his severity to the buccaneers _ib._ van horn, granmont, and de graaf, go against la vera cruz they surprise the town by stratagem story of granmont and an english ship disputes of the french governors with the flibustiers of saint domingo chap. xii. _circumstances which preceded the second irruption of the buccaneers into the =south sea=. buccaneers under =john cook= sail from =virginia=; stop at the =cape de verde islands=; at =sierra leone=. origin and history of the report concerning the supposed discovery of =pepys island=._ circumstances preceding the second irruption of the buccaneers into the south sea buccaneers under john cook cape de verde islands ambergris; the flamingo _ib._ coast of guinea sherborough river john davis's islands _ib._ history of the report of a discovery named pepys island _ib._ shoals of small red lobsters passage round cape horne _ib._ chap. xiii. _buccaneers under =john cook= arrive at =juan fernandez=. account of =william=, a mosquito indian, who had lived there three years. they sail to the =galapagos islands=; thence to the coast of =new spain=. =john cook= dies. =edward davis= chosen commander._ the buccaneers under cook joined by the nicholas of london, john eaton at juan fernandez william the mosquito indian _ib._ juan fernandez first stocked with goats by its discoverer appearance of the andes _ib._ islands lobos de la mar _ib._ at the galapagos islands duke of norfolk's island _ib._ cowley's chart of the galapagos king james's island _ib._ mistake by the editor of dampier _ib._ concerning fresh water and herbage at the galapagos _ib._ & land and sea turtle mammee tree _ib._ coast of new spain; cape blanco john cook, buccaneer commander, dies _ib._ edward davis chosen commander _ib._ chap. xiv. _=edward davis= commander. on the coast of =new spain= and =peru=. algatrane, a bituminous earth. =davis= is joined by other buccaneers. =eaton= sails to the =east indies=. =guayaquil= attempted. =rivers of st. jago=, and =tomaco=. in the bay of =panama=. arrivals of numerous parties of buccaneers across the =isthmus= from the =west indies=._ caldera bay volcan viejo ria-lexa harbour _ib._ bay of amapalla davis and eaton part company tornadoes near the coast of new spain cape san francisco _ib._ eaton's description of cocos island _ib._ point s^{ta} elena algatrane, a bituminous earth _ib._ rich ship wrecked on point s^{ta} elena manta; rocks near it, and shoal _ib._ davis is joined by other buccaneers _ib._ the cygnet, captain swan _ib._ at isle de la plata cape blanco, near guayaquil; difficult to weather _ib._ payta burnt part of the peruvian coast where it never rains _ib._ lobos de tierra, and lobos de la mar _ib._ eaton at the ladrones nutmeg island, north of luconia davis on the coast of peru _ib._ slave ships captured _ib._ the harbour of guayaquil island s^{ta} clara: shoals near it cat fish the cotton tree and cabbage tree river of st. jago _ib._ island gallo; river tomaco island gorgona _ib._ pearl oysters galera isle _ib._ the pearl islands arrival of fresh bodies of buccaneers from the west indies grogniet and l'escuyer _ib._ townley and his crew pisco wine port de pinas; taboga chepo chap. xv. _=edward davis= commander. meeting of the spanish and buccaneer fleets in the =bay of panama=. they separate without fighting. the buccaneers sail to the island =quibo=. the english and french separate. expedition against the city of =leon=. that city and =ria lexa= burnt. farther dispersion of the buccaneers._ the lima fleet arrives at panama meeting of the two fleets they separate keys of quibo: the island quibo rock near the anchorage _ib._ serpents; the serpent berry disagreements among the buccaneers _ib._ the french separate from the english knight, a buccaneer, joins davis _ib._ expedition against the city of leon leon burnt by the buccaneers town of ria lexa burnt farther separation of the buccaneers _ib._ chap. xvi. _buccaneers under =edward davis=. at =amapalla= bay; =cocos island=; the =galapagos= islands; coast of =peru=. peruvian wine. =knight= quits the =south sea=. bezoar stones. marine productions on mountains. =vermejo=. =davis= joins the french buccaneers at =guayaquil=. long sea engagement._ amapalla bay a hot river _ib._ cocos island effect of excess in drinking the milk of the cocoa-nut at the galapagos islands _ib._ on the coast of peru peruvian wine like madeira _ib._ at juan fernandez knight quits the south sea _ib._ davis returns to the coast of peru _ib._ bezoar stones marine productions found on mountains; vermejo _ib._ davis joins the french buccaneers at guayaquil they meet spanish ships of war a sea engagement of seven days _ib._ at the island de la plata division of plunder they separate, to return home by different routes chap. xvii. _=edward davis=; his third visit to the =galapagos=. one of those islands, named =santa maria de l'aguada= by the spaniards, a careening place of the buccaneers. sailing thence southward they discover land. question, whether edward davis's discovery is the land which was afterwards named =easter island=? =davis= and his crew arrive in the =west indies=._ davis sails to the galapagos islands king james's island the island s^{ta} maria de l'aguada davis sails from the galapagos to the southward island discovered by edward davis question whether edward davis's land and easter island are the same land at the island juan fernandez davis sails to the west indies chap. xviii. _adventures of =swan= and =townley= on the coast of =new spain=, until their separation._ bad water, and unhealthiness of ria lexa island tangola guatulco; el buffadore vinello, or vanilla, a plant island sacrificio _ib._ port de angeles _ib._ adventure in a lagune alcatraz rock; white cliffs river to the west of the cliffs _ib._ snook, a fish _ib._ high land of acapulco sandy beach, west of acapulco _ib._ hill of petaplan chequetan _ib._ estapa _ib._ hill of thelupan volcano and valley of colima _ib._ salagua report of a great city named oarrah _ib._ coronada hills cape corrientes _ib._ keys or islands of chametly form a convenient port _ib._ bay and valley de vanderas swan and townley part company chap. xix. _the =cygnet= and her crew on the coast of =nueva galicia=, and at the =tres marias islands=._ coast of nueva galicia point ponteque _ib._ white rock, ° ' n chametlan isles, ° ' n _ib._ the penguin fruit _ib._ rio de sal, and salt-water lagune _ib._ the mexican, a copious language mazatlan _ib._ rosario, an indian town; river rosario; sugar-loaf hill; caput cavalli; maxentelbo rock; hill of xalisco river of santiago town of s^{ta} pecaque buccaneers defeated and slain by the spaniards at the tres marias a root used as food a dropsy cured by a sand bath _ib._ bay of vanderas chap. xx. _the =cygnet=. her passage across the =pacific ocean=. at the =ladrones=. at =mindanao=._ the cygnet quits the american coast large flight of birds _ib._ shoals and breakers near guahan _ib._ bank de santa rosa at guahan _ib._ flying proe, or sailing canoe bread fruit eastern side of mindanao, and the island st. john sarangan and candigar harbour or sound on the south coast of mindanao _ib._ river of mindanao city of mindanao _ib._ chap. xxi. _the =cygnet= departs from =mindanao=. at the =ponghou isles=. at the =five islands=. =dampier's= account of the =five islands=. they are named the =bashee islands=._ south coast of mindanao among the philippine islands _ib._ pulo condore _ib._ in the china seas ponghou isles the five islands _ib._ dampier's description of them - chap. xxii. _the =cygnet=. at the =philippines=, =celebes=, and =timor=. on the coast of =new holland=. end of the =cygnet=._ island near the se end of mindanao candigar, a convenient cove there _ib._ low island and shoal, sbw from the west end of timor nw coast of new holland _ib._ bay on the coast of new holland natives an island in latitude ° ' s end of the cygnet _ib._ chap. xxiii. _french buccaneers =under françois grogniet= and =le picard=, to the death of =grogniet=._ point de burica; chiriquita unsuccessful attempt at pueblo nuevo grogniet is joined by townley _ib._ expedition against the city of granada at ria lexa grogniet and townley part company _ib._ buccaneers under townley _ib._ lavelia taken, and set on fire battle with spanish armed ships death of townley grogniet rejoins company they divide, meet again, and reunite attack on guayaquil at the island puna grogniet dies _ib._ edward davis joins le picard chap. xxiv. _retreat of the =french buccaneers= across =new spain= to the =west indies=. all the =buccaneers= quit the =south sea=._ in amapalla bay chiloteca; massacre of prisoners _ib._ the buccaneers burn their vessels they begin their march over land town of new segovia rio de yare, or cape river la pava; straiton; le sage small crew of buccaneers at the tres marias. their adventures story related by le sieur froger _ib._ buccaneers who lived three years on the island juan fernandez chap. xxv. _steps taken towards reducing the =buccaneers= and =flibustiers= under subordination to the regular governments. war of the grand alliance against =france=. neutrality of the =island st. christopher= broken._ reform attempted in the west indies campeachy burnt _ib._ danish factory robbed the english driven from st. christopher the english retake st. christopher chap. xxvi. _siege and plunder of the city of =carthagena= on the =terra firma=, by an armament from =france= in conjunction with the =flibustiers= of =saint domingo=._ armament under m. de pointis his character of the buccaneers siege of carthagena by the french the city capitulates value of the plunder chap. xxvii. _second plunder of =carthagena=. peace of =ryswick=, in . entire suppression of the =buccaneers= and =flibustiers=._ the buccaneers return to carthagena meet an english and dutch squadron peace of ryswick causes which led to the suppression of the buccaneers _ib._ providence island conclusion history of the buccaneers of america. chapter i. _considerations on the rights acquired by the discovery of unknown lands, and on the claims advanced by the =spaniards=._ the accounts given by the buccaneers who extended their enterprises to the _pacific ocean_, are the best authenticated of any which have been published by that class of adventurers. they are interspersed with nautical and geographical descriptions, corroborative of the events related, and more worth being preserved than the memory of what was performed. the materials for this portion of buccaneer history, which it was necessary should be included in a history of south sea navigations, could not be collected without bringing other parts into view; whence it appeared, that with a moderate increase of labour, and without much enlarging the bulk of narrative, a regular history might be formed of their career, from their first rise, to their suppression; and that such a work would not be without its use. no practice is more common in literature, than for an author to endeavour to clear the ground before him, by mowing down the labours of his predecessors on the same subject. to do this, where the labour they have bestowed is of good tendency, or even to treat with harshness the commission of error where no bad intention is manifest, is in no small degree illiberal. but all the buccaneer histories that hitherto have appeared, and the number is not small, are boastful compositions, which have delighted in exaggeration: and, what is most mischievous, they have lavished commendation on acts which demanded reprobation, and have endeavoured to raise miscreants, notorious for their want of humanity, to the rank of heroes, lessening thereby the stain upon robbery, and the abhorrence naturally conceived against cruelty. there is some excuse for the buccaneer, who tells his own story. vanity, and his prejudices, without any intention to deceive, lead him to magnify his own exploits; and the reader naturally makes allowances. the men whose enterprises are to be related, were natives of different european nations, but chiefly of _great britain_ and _france_, and most of them seafaring people, who being disappointed, by accidents or the enmity of the spaniards, in their more sober pursuits in the _west indies_, and also instigated by thirst for plunder as much as by desire for vengeance, embodied themselves, under different leaders of their own choosing, to make predatory war upon the spaniards. these men the spaniards naturally treated as pirates; but some peculiar circumstances which provoked their first enterprises, and a general feeling of enmity against that nation on account of their american conquests, procured them the connivance of the rest of the maritime states of _europe_, and to be distinguished first by the softened appellations of freebooters and adventurers, and afterwards by that of buccaneers. _spain_, or, more strictly speaking, _castile_, on the merit of a first discovery, claimed an exclusive right to the possession of the whole of _america_, with the exception of the _brasils_, which were conceded to the portuguese. these claims, and this division, the pope sanctioned by an instrument, entitled a bull of donation, which was granted at a time when all the maritime powers of _europe_ were under the spiritual dominion of the see of _rome_. the spaniards, however, did not flatter themselves that they should be left in the sole and undisputed enjoyment of so large a portion of the newly-discovered countries; but they were principally anxious to preserve wholly to themselves the _west indies_: and, such was the monopolising spirit of the castilians, that during the life of the queen ysabel of _castile_, who was regarded as the patroness of columbus's discovery, it was difficult even for spaniards, not subjects born of the crown of _castile_, to gain access to this _new world_, prohibitions being repeatedly published against the admission of all other persons into the ships bound thither. ferdinand, king of _arragon_, the husband of ysabel, had refused to contribute towards the outfit of columbus's first voyage, having no opinion of the probability that it would produce him an adequate return; and the undertaking being at the expence of _castile_, the countries discovered were considered as appendages to the crown of _castile_. if such jealousy was entertained by the spaniards of each other, what must not have been their feelings respecting other european nations? 'whoever,' says hakluyt, 'is conversant with the portugal and spanish writers, shall find that they account all other nations for pirates, rovers, and thieves, which visit any heathen coast that they have sailed by or looked on.' _spain_ considered the _new world_ as what in our law books is called treasure-trove, of which she became lawfully and exclusively entitled to take possession, as fully as if it had been found without any owner or proprietor. _spain_ has not been singular in her maxims respecting the rights of discoverers. our books of voyages abound in instances of the same disregard shewn to the rights of the native inhabitants, the only rightful proprietors, by the navigators of other european nations, who, with a solemnity due only to offices of a religious nature, have continually put in practice the form of taking possession of countries which to them were new discoveries, their being inhabited or desert making no difference. not unfrequently has the ceremony been performed in the presence, but not within the understanding, of the wondering natives; and on this formality is grounded a claim to usurp the actual possession, in preference to other europeans. nothing can be more opposed to common sense, than that strangers should pretend to acquire by discovery, a title to countries they find with inhabitants; as if in those very inhabitants the right of prior discovery was not inherent. on some occasions, however, europeans have thought it expedient to acknowledge the rights of the natives, as when, in disputing each other's claims, a title by gift from the natives has been pretended. in uninhabited lands, a right of occupancy results from the discovery; but actual and _bonâ fide_ possession is requisite to perfect appropriation. if real possession be not taken, or if taken shall not be retained, the right acquired by the mere discovery is not indefinite and a perpetual bar of exclusion to all others; for that would amount to discovery giving a right equivalent to annihilation. moveable effects may be hoarded and kept out of use, or be destroyed, and it will not always be easy to prove whether with injury or benefit to mankind: but the necessities of human life will not admit, unless under the strong hand of power, that a right should be pretended to keep extensive and fertile countries waste and secluded from their use, without other reason than the will of a proprietor or claimant. particular local circumstances have created objections to the occupancy of territory: for instance, between the confines of the russian and chinese empires, large tracts of country are left waste, it being held, that their being occupied by the subjects of either empire would affect the security of the other. several similar instances might be mentioned. there is in many cases difficulty to settle what constitutes occupancy. on a small island, any first settlement is acknowledged an occupancy of the whole; and sometimes, the occupancy of a single island of a group is supposed to comprehend an exclusive title to the possession of the remainder of the group. in the _west indies_, the spaniards regarded their making settlements on a few islands, to be an actual taking possession of the whole, as far as european pretensions were concerned. the first discovery of columbus set in activity the curiosity and speculative dispositions of all the european maritime powers. king henry the viith, of _england_, as soon as he was certified of the existence of countries in the western hemisphere, sent ships thither, whereby _newfoundland_, and parts of the continent of _north america_, were first discovered. _south america_ was also visited very early, both by the english and the french; 'which nations,' the historian of _brasil_ remarks, 'had neglected to ask a share of the undiscovered world, when pope alexander the vith partitioned it, who would as willingly have drawn two lines as one; and, because they derived no advantage from that partition, refused to admit its validity.' the _west indies_, however, which doubtless was the part most coveted by all, seem to have been considered as more particularly the discovery and right of the spaniards; and, either from respect to their pretensions, or from the opinion entertained of their force in those parts, they remained many years undisturbed by intruders in the _west indian seas_. but their homeward-bound ships, and also those of the portuguese from the _east indies_, did not escape being molested by pirates; sometimes by those of their own, as well as of other nations. chap. ii. _review of the dominion of the =spaniards= in =hayti= or =hispaniola=._ [sidenote: - . hayti, or hispaniola, the first settlement of the spaniards in america.] the first settlement formed by the castilians in their newly discovered world, was on the island by the native inhabitants named _hayti_; but to which the spaniards gave the name of _española_ or _hispaniola_. and in process of time it came to pass, that this same island became the great place of resort, and nursery, of the european adventurers, who have been so conspicuous under the denomination of the buccaneers of _america_. the native inhabitants found in _hayti_, have been described a people of gentle, compassionate dispositions, of too frail a constitution, both of body and mind, either to resist oppression, or to support themselves under its weight; and to the indolence, luxury, and avarice of the discoverers, their freedom and happiness in the first instance, and finally their existence, fell a sacrifice. queen ysabel, the patroness of the discovery, believed it her duty, and was earnestly disposed, to be their protectress; but she wanted resolution to second her inclination. the island abounded in gold mines. the natives were tasked to work them, heavier and heavier by degrees; and it was the great misfortune of columbus, after achieving an enterprise, the glory of which was not exceeded by any action of his contemporaries, to make an ungrateful use of the success heaven had favoured him with, and to be the foremost in the destruction of the nations his discovery first made known to _europe_. [sidenote: review of the dominion of the spaniards in hispaniola.] the population of _hayti_, according to the lowest estimation made, amounted to a million of souls. the first visit of columbus was passed in a continual reciprocation of kind offices between them and the spaniards. one of the spanish ships was wrecked upon the coast, and the natives gave every assistance in their power towards saving the crew, and their effects to them. when columbus departed to return to _europe_, he left behind him thirty-eight spaniards, with the consent of the chief or sovereign of the part of the island where he had been so hospitably received. he had erected a fort for their security, and the declared purpose of their remaining was to protect the chief against all his enemies. several of the native islanders voluntarily embarked in the ships to go to _spain_, among whom was a relation of the _hayti_ chief; and with them were taken gold, and various samples of the productions of the _new world_. columbus, on his return, was received by the court of _spain_ with the honours due to his heroic achievement, indeed with honours little short of adoration: he was declared admiral, governor, and viceroy of the countries that he had discovered, and also of those which he should afterwards discover; he was ordered to assume the style and title of nobility; and was furnished with a larger fleet to prosecute farther the discovery, and to make conquest of the new lands. the instructions for his second expedition contained the following direction: 'forasmuch as you, christopher columbus, are going by our command, with our vessels and our men, to discover and subdue certain islands and continent, our will is, that you shall be our admiral, viceroy, and governor in them.' this was the first step in the iniquitous usurpations which the more cultivated nations of the world have practised upon their weaker brethren, the natives of _america_. [sidenote: . government of columbus.] thus provided and instructed, columbus sailed on his second voyage. on arriving at _hayti_, the first news he learnt was, that the natives had demolished the fort which he had built, and destroyed the garrison, who, it appeared, had given great provocation, by their rapacity and licentious conduct. war did not immediately follow. columbus accepted presents of gold from the chief; he landed a number of colonists, and built a town on the north side of _hayti_, which he named after the patroness, _ysabel_, and fortified. [sidenote: .] a second fort was soon built; new spaniards arrived; and the natives began to understand that it was the intention of their visitors to stay, and be lords of the country. the chiefs held meetings, to confer on the means to rid themselves of such unwelcome guests, and there was appearance of preparation making to that end. the spaniards had as yet no farther asserted dominion, than in taking land for their town and forts, and helping themselves to provisions when the natives neglected to bring supplies voluntarily. the histories of these transactions affect a tone of apprehension on account of the extreme danger in which the spaniards were, from the multitude of the heathen inhabitants; but all the facts shew that they perfectly understood the helpless character of the natives. a spanish officer, named pedro margarit, was blamed, not altogether reasonably, for disorderly conduct to the natives, which happened in the following manner. he was ordered, with a large body of troops, to make a progress through the island in different parts, and was strictly enjoined to restrain his men from committing any violence against the natives, or from giving them any cause for complaint. but the troops were sent on their journey without provisions, and the natives were not disposed to furnish them. the troops recurred to violence, which they did not limit to the obtaining food. if columbus could spare a detachment strong enough to make such a visitation through the land, he could have entertained no doubt of his ability to subdue it. but before he risked engaging in open war with the natives, he thought it prudent to weaken their means of resisting by what he called stratagem. _hayti_ was divided into five provinces, or small kingdoms, under the separate dominion of as many princes or caciques. one of these, coanabo, the cacique of _maguana_, columbus believed to be more resolute, and more dangerous to his purpose, than any other of the chiefs. to coanabo, therefore, he sent an officer, to propose an accommodation on terms which appeared so reasonable, that the indian chief assented to them. afterwards, relying on the good faith of the spaniards, not, as some authors have meanly represented, through credulous and childish simplicity, but with the natural confidence which generally prevails, and which ought to prevail, among mankind in their mutual engagements, he gave opportunity for columbus to get possession of his person, who caused him to be seized, and embarked in a ship then ready to sail for _spain_. the ship foundered in the passage. [sidenote: .] the story of coanabo, and the contempt with which he treated columbus for his treachery, form one of the most striking circumstances in the history of the perfidious dealings of the spaniards in _america_. [sidenote: dogs used in battle against the indians.] on the seizure of this chief, the islanders rose in arms. columbus took the field with two hundred foot armed with musketry and cross-bows, with twenty troopers mounted on horses, and with twenty large dogs[ ]! it is not to be urged in exculpation of the spaniards, that the natives were the aggressors, by their killing the garrison left at _hayti_. columbus had terminated his first visit in friendship; and, without the knowledge that any breach had happened between the spaniards left behind, and the natives, sentence of subjugation had been pronounced against them. this was not to avenge injury, for the spaniards knew not of any committed. columbus was commissioned to execute this sentence, and for that end, besides a force of armed men, he took with him from _spain_ a number of blood-hounds, to prosecute a most unrighteous purpose by the most inhuman means. many things are justifiable in defence, which in offensive war are regarded by the generality of mankind with detestation. all are agreed in the use of dogs, as faithful guards to our persons as well as to our dwellings; but to hunt men with dogs seems to have been till then unheard of, and is nothing less offensive to humanity than cannibalism or feasting on our enemies. neither jagged shot, poisoned darts, springing of mines, nor any species of destruction, can be objected to, if this is allowed in honourable war, or admitted not to be a disgraceful practice in any war. it was scarcely possible for the indians, or indeed for any people naked and undisciplined, however numerous, to stand their ground against a force so calculated to excite dread. the islanders were naturally a timid people, and they regarded fire-arms as engines of more than mortal contrivance. don ferdinand, the son of columbus, who wrote a history of his father's actions, relates an instance, which happened before the war, of above indians running away from a single spanish horseman. [sidenote: massacre of the natives, and subjugation of the island.] so little was attack, or valiant opposition, apprehended from the natives, that columbus divided his force into several squadrons, to charge them at different points. 'these faint-hearted creatures,' says don ferdinand, 'fled at the first onset; and our men, pursuing and killing them, made such havock, that in a short time they obtained a complete victory.' the policy adopted by columbus was, to confirm the natives in their dread of european arms, by a terrible execution. the victors, both dogs and men, used their ascendancy like furies. the dogs flew at the throats of the indians, and strangled or tore them in pieces; whilst the spaniards, with the eagerness of hunters, pursued and mowed down the unresisting fugitives. some thousands of the islanders were slaughtered, and those taken prisoners were consigned to servitude. if the fact were not extant, it would not be conceivable that any one could be so blind to the infamy of such a proceeding, as to extol the courage of the spaniards on this occasion, instead of execrating their cruelty. three hundred of the natives were shipped for _spain_ as slaves, and the whole island, with the exception of a small part towards the western coast, which has since been named the _cul de sac_, was subdued. [sidenote: tribute imposed.] columbus made a leisurely progress through the island, which occupied him nine or ten months, and imposed a tribute generally upon all the natives above the age of fourteen, requiring each of them to pay quarterly a certain quantity of gold, or lbs. of cotton. those natives who were discovered to have been active against the spaniards, were taxed higher. to prevent evasion, rings or tokens, to be produced in the nature of receipts, were given to the islanders on their paying the tribute, and any islander found without such a mark in his possession, was deemed not to have paid, and proceeded against. queen ysabel shewed her disapprobation of columbus's proceedings, by liberating and sending back the captive islanders to their own country; and she moreover added her positive commands, that none of the natives should be made slaves. this order was accompanied with others intended for their protection; but the spanish colonists, following the example of their governor, contrived means to evade them. in the mean time, the islanders could not furnish the tribute, and columbus was rigorous in the collection. it is said in palliation, that he was embarrassed in consequence of the magnificent descriptions he had given to ferdinand and ysabel, of the riches of _hispaniola_, by which he had taught them to expect much; and that the fear of disappointing them and losing their favour, prompted him to act more oppressively to the indians than his disposition otherwise inclined him to do. distresses of this kind press upon all men; but only in very ordinary minds do they outweigh solemn considerations. setting aside the dictates of religion and moral duty, as doubtless was done, and looking only to worldly advantages, if columbus had properly estimated his situation, he would have been resolute not to descend from the eminence he had attained. the dilemma in which he was placed, was simply, whether he would risk some diminution of the favour he was in at court, by being the protector of these islanders, who, by circumstances peculiarly calculated to engage his interest, were entitled in an especial manner to have been regarded as his clients; or, to preserve that favour, would oppress them to their destruction, and to the ruin of his own fame. [sidenote: despair of the natives.] the islanders, finding their inability to oppose the invaders, took the desperate resolution to desist from the cultivation of their lands, to abandon their houses, and to withdraw themselves to the mountains; hoping thereby that want of subsistence would force their oppressors to quit the island. the spaniards had many resources; the sea-coast supplied them with fish, and their vessels brought provisions from other islands. as to the natives of _hayti_, one third part of them, it is said, perished in the course of a few months, by famine and by suicide. the rest returned to their dwellings, and submitted. all these events took place within three years after the discovery; so active is rapacity. some among the spaniards (authors of that time say, the enemies of columbus, as if sentiments of humanity were not capable of such an effort) wrote memorials to their catholic majesties, representing the disastrous condition to which the natives were reduced. [sidenote: .] commissioners were sent to examine into the fact, and columbus found it necessary to go to _spain_ to defend his administration. so great was the veneration and respect entertained for him, that on his arrival at court, accusation was not allowed to be produced against him: and, without instituting enquiry, it was arranged, that he should return to his government with a large reinforcement of spaniards, and with authority to grant lands to whomsoever he chose to think capable of cultivating them. various accidents delayed his departure from _spain_ on his third voyage, till . [sidenote: city of nueva ysabel founded, .] he had left two of his brothers to govern in _hispaniola_ during his absence; the eldest, bartolomé, with the title of adelantado; in whose time (a. d. ) was traced, on the south side of the island, the plan of a new town intended for the capital, the land in the neighbourhood of the town of _ysabel_, before built, being poor and little productive. [sidenote: its name changed to santo domingo.] the name first given to the new town was _nueva ysabel_; this in a short time gave place to that of _santo domingo_, a name which was not imposed by authority, but adopted and became in time established by common usage, of which the original cause is not now known[ ]. under the adelantado's government, the parts of the island which till then had held out in their refusal to receive the spanish yoke, were reduced to subjection; and the conqueror gratified his vanity with the public execution of one of the hayti kings. columbus whilst he was in _spain_ received mortification in two instances, of neither of which he had any right to complain. in october , three hundred natives of _hayti_ (made prisoners by the adelantado) were landed at _cadiz_, being sent to _spain_ as slaves. at this act of disobedience, the king and queen strongly expressed their displeasure, and said, if the islanders made war against the castilians, they must have been constrained to do it by hard treatment. columbus thought proper to blame, and to disavow what his brother had done. the other instance of his receiving mortification, was an act of kindness done him, and so intended; and it was the only shadow of any thing like reproof offered to him. in the instructions which he now received, it was earnestly recommended to him to prefer conciliation to severity on all occasions which would admit it without prejudice to justice or to his honour. [sidenote: .] it was in the third voyage of columbus that he first saw the continent of _south america_, in august , which he then took to be an island, and named _isla santa_. he arrived on the d of the same month at the city of _san domingo_. the short remainder of columbus's government in _hayti_ was occupied with disputes among the spaniards themselves. a strong party was in a state of revolt against the government of the columbuses, and accommodation was kept at a distance, by neither party daring to place trust in the other. [sidenote: - .] columbus would have had recourse to arms to recover his authority, but some of his troops deserted to the disaffected, and others refused to be employed against their countrymen. in this state, the parties engaged in a treaty on some points, and each sent memorials to the court. the admiral in his dispatches represented, that necessity had made him consent to certain conditions, to avoid endangering the colony; but that it would be highly prejudicial to the interests of their majesties to ratify the treaty he had been forced to subscribe. [sidenote: beginning of the repartimientos.] the admiral now made grants of lands to spanish colonists, and accompanied them with requisitions to the neighbouring caciques, to furnish the new proprietors with labourers to cultivate the soil. this was the beginning of the _repartimientos_, or distributions of the indians, which confirmed them slaves, and contributed, more than all former oppressions, to their extermination. notwithstanding the earnest and express order of the king and queen to the contrary, the practice of transporting the natives of _hayti_ to _spain_ as slaves, was connived at and continued; and this being discovered, lost columbus the confidence, but not wholly the support, of queen ysabel. [sidenote: . government of bovadilla.] the dissensions in the colony increased, as did the unpopularity of the admiral; and in the year , a new governor general of the _indies_, francisco de bovadilla, was sent from _spain_, with a commission empowering him to examine into the accusations against the admiral; and he was particularly enjoined by the queen, to declare all the native inhabitants free, and to take measures to secure to them that they should be treated as a free people. how a man so grossly ignorant and intemperate as bovadilla, should have been chosen to an office of such high trust, is not a little extraordinary. his first display of authority was to send the columbuses home prisoners, with the indignity to their persons of confining them in chains. he courted popularity in his government by shewing favour to all who had been disaffected to the government or measures of the admiral and his brothers, the natives excepted, for whose relief he had been especially appointed governor. to encourage the spaniards to work the mines, he reduced the duties payable to the crown on the produce, and trusted to an increase in the quantity of gold extracted, for preserving the revenue from diminution. [sidenote: all the natives compelled to work the mines.] this was to be effected by increasing the labour of the natives; and that these miserable people might not evade their servitude, he caused muster-rolls to be made of all the inhabitants, divided them into classes, and made distribution of them according to the value of the mines, or to his desire to gratify particular persons. the spanish colonists believed that the same facilities to enrich themselves would not last long, and made all the haste in their power to profit by the present opportunity. by these means, bovadilla drew from the mines in a few months so great a quantity of gold, that one fleet which he sent home, carried a freight more than sufficient to reimburse _spain_ all the expences which had been incurred in the discovery and conquest. the procuring these riches was attended with so great a mortality among the natives as to threaten their utter extinction. nothing could exceed the surprise and indignation of the queen, on receiving information of these proceedings. the bad government of bovadilla was a kind of palliation which had the effect of lessening the reproach upon the preceding government, and, joined to the disgraceful manner in which columbus had been sent home, produced a revolution of sentiment in his favour. the good queen ysabel wished to compensate him for the hard treatment he had received, at the same time that she had the sincerity to make him understand she would not again commit the indian natives to his care. all his other offices and dignities were restored to him. [sidenote: - . nicolas ovando, governor.] for a successor to bovadilla in the office of governor general, don nicolas ovando, a cavalero of the order of _alcantara_, was chosen; a man esteemed capable and just, and who entered on his government with apparent mildness and consideration. but in a short time he proved the most execrable of all the tyrants, 'as if,' says an historian, 'tyranny was inherent and contagious in the office, so as to change good men to bad, for the destruction of these unfortunate indians.' [sidenote: working the mines discontinued by orders from spain.] in obedience to his instructions, ovando, on arriving at his government, called a general assembly of all the caciques or principal persons among the natives, to whom he declared, that their catholic majesties took the islanders under their royal protection; that no exaction should be made on them, other than the tribute which had been heretofore imposed; and that no person should be employed to work in the mines, except on the footing of voluntary labourers for wages. [sidenote: .] on the promulgation of the royal pleasure, all working in the mines immediately ceased. the impression made by their past sufferings was too strong for any offer of pay or reward to prevail on them to continue in that work. [the same thing happened, many years afterwards, between the chilese and the spaniards.] a few mines had been allowed to remain in possession of some of the caciques of _hayti_, on the condition of rendering up half the produce; but now, instead of working them, they sold their implements. in consequence of this defection, it was judged expedient to lower the royal duties on the produce of the mines, which produced some effect. ovando, however, was intent on procuring the mines to be worked as heretofore, but proceeded with caution. in his dispatches to the council of the _indies_, he represented in strong colours the natural levity and inconstancy of the indians, and their idle and disorderly manner of living; on which account, he said, it would be for their improvement and benefit to find them occupation in moderate labour; that there would be no injustice in so doing, as they would receive wages for their work, and they would thereby be enabled to pay the tribute, which otherwise, from their habitual idleness, many would not be able to satisfy. he added moreover, that the indians, being left entirely their own masters, kept at a distance from the spanish habitations, which rendered it impossible to instruct them in the principles of christianity. this reasoning, and the proposal to furnish the natives with employment, were approved by the council of the _indies_; and the court, from the opinion entertained of the justice and moderation of ovando, acquiesced so far as to trust making the experiment to his discretion. in reply to his representations, he received instructions recommending, 'that if it was necessary to oblige the indians to work, it should be done in the most gentle and moderate manner; that the caciques should be invited to send their people in regular turns; and that the employers should treat them well, and pay them wages, according to the quality of the person and nature of the labour; that care should be taken for their regular attendance at religious service and instruction; and that it should be remembered they were a free people, to be governed with mildness, and on no account to be treated as slaves.' [sidenote: - . the natives again forced to the mines.] these directions, notwithstanding the expressions of care for the natives contained in them, released the governor general from all restriction. this man had recently been appointed grand master of the order of _calatrava_, and thenceforward he was most generally distinguished by the appellation or title of the grand commander. a transaction of a shocking nature, which took place during bovadilla's government, caused an insurrection of the natives; but which did not break out till after the removal of bovadilla. a spanish vessel had put into a port of the province of _higuey_ (the most eastern part of _hayti_) to procure a lading of _cassava_, a root which is used as bread. the spaniards landed, having with them a large dog held by a cord. whilst the natives were helping them to what they wanted, one of the spaniards in wanton insolence pointed to a cacique, and called to the dog in manner of setting him on. the spaniard who held the cord, it is doubtful whether purposely or by accident, suffered it to slip out of his hand, and the dog instantly tore out the unfortunate cacique's entrails. the people of _higuey_ sent a deputation, to complain to bovadilla; but those who went could not obtain attention. [sidenote: severities shewn to the people of higuey.] in the beginning of ovando's government, some other spaniards landed at the same port of _higuey_, and the natives, in revenge for what had happened, fell upon them, and killed them; after which they took to arms. this insurrection was quelled with so great a slaughter, that the province, from having been well peopled, was rendered almost a desert. [sidenote: . encomiendas established.] ovando, on obtaining his new instructions, followed the model set by his predecessors. he enrolled and classed the natives in divisions, called _repartimientos_: from these he assigned to the spanish proprietors a specified number of labourers, by grants, which, with most detestable hypocrisy, were denominated _encomiendas_. the word _encomienda_ signifies recommendation, and the employer to whom the indian was consigned, was to have the reputation of being his patron. the _encomienda_ was conceived in the following terms:--'_i recommend to =a. b.= such and such indians =(listed by name)= the subjects of such cacique; and he is to take care to have them instructed in the principles of our holy faith._' under the enforcement of the _encomiendas_, the natives were again dragged to the mines; and many of these unfortunate wretches were kept by their hard employers under ground for six months together. with the labour, and grief at being again doomed to slavery, they sunk so rapidly, that it suggested to the murderous proprietors of the mines the having recourse to _africa_ for slaves. [sidenote: african slaves carried to the west indies.] ovando, after small experience of this practice, endeavoured to oppose it as dangerous, the africans frequently escaping from their masters, and finding concealment among the natives, in whom they excited some spirit of resistance. the ill use made by the grand commander of the powers with which he had been trusted, appears to have reached the court early, for, in , he received fresh orders, enjoining him not to allow, on any pretext, the natives to be employed in labour against their own will, either in the mines or elsewhere. ovando, however, trusted to being supported by the spanish proprietors of the mines within his government, who grew rich by the _encomiendas_, and with their assistance he found pretences for not restraining himself to the orders of the court. in parts of the island, the caciques still enjoyed a degree of authority over the natives, which rested almost wholly on habitual custom and voluntary attachment. to loosen this band, ovando, assuming the character of a protector, published ordonnances to release the lower classes from the oppressions of the caciques; but from those of their european taskmasters he gave them no relief. some of the principal among the native inhabitants of _xaragua_, the south-western province of _hayti_, had the hardiness openly to express their discontent at the tyranny exercised by the spaniards established in that province. the person at this time regarded as cacique or chief of _xaragua_ was a female, sister to the last cacique, who had died without issue. the spanish histories call her queen of _xaragua_. this princess had shewn symptoms of something like abhorrence of the spaniards near her, and they did not fail to send representations to the grand commander, with the addition, that there appeared indications of an intention in the xaraguans to revolt. on receiving this notice, ovando determined that _xaragua_, as _higuey_ had before, should feel the weight of his displeasure. putting himself at the head of spanish troops, part of them cavalry, he departed from the city of _san domingo_ for the devoted province, giving out publicly, that his intention was to make a progress into the west, to collect the tribute, and to visit the queen of _xaragua_. he was received by the princess and her people with honours, feastings, and all the demonstrations of joy usually acted by terrified people with the hopes of soothing tyranny; and the troops were regaled with profusion of victuals, with dancing, and shows. [sidenote: - .] after some days thus spent, ovando invited the princess, her friends and attendants, to an entertainment which he promised them, after the manner of _spain_. a large open public building was the chosen place for holding this festival, and all the spanish settlers in the province were required to attend. a great concourse of indians, besides the bidden guests, crowded round, to enjoy the spectacle. [sidenote: massacre of the people of xaragua.] as the appointed time approached, the spanish infantry gradually appeared, and took possession of all the avenues; which being secured, this grand commander himself appeared, mounted at the head of his cavalry; and on his making a signal, which had been previously concerted, which was laying his hand on the cross of his order, the whole of these diabolical conquerors fell upon the defenceless multitude, who were so hemmed in, that thousands were slaughtered, and it was scarcely possible for any to escape unwounded. some of the principal indians or caciques, it is said, were by the commander's order fastened to the pillars of the building, where they were questioned, and made to confess themselves in a conspiracy against the spanish government; after which confession the building was set on fire, and they perished in the flames. the massacre did not stop here. detachments of troops, with dogs, were sent to hunt and destroy the natives in different parts of the province, and some were pursued over to the island _gonave_. the princess was carried bound to the city of _san domingo_, and with the forms of law was tried, condemned, and put to death. the purposes, besides that of gratifying his revenge for the hatred shewn to his government, which were sufficient to move ovando to this bloody act, were, the plunder of the province, and the reduction of the islanders to a more manageable number, and to the most unlimited submission. [sidenote: .] some of the indians fled to the mountains. 'but,' say the spanish chronicles of these events, 'in a short time their chiefs were taken and punished, and at the end of six months there was not a native living on the island who had not submitted to the dominion of the spaniards.' [sidenote: death of queen ysabel.] queen ysabel died in november , much and universally lamented. this princess bore a large share in the usurpations practised in the new world; but it is evident she was carried away, contrary to her real principles and disposition, which were just and benevolent, and to her own happiness, by the powerful stream of general opinion. in _europe_, political principles, or maxims of policy, have been in continual change, fashioned by the nature of the passing events, no less than dress has been by caprice; causes which have led one to deviate from plain rectitude, as the other from convenience. one principle, covetousness of the attainment of power, has nevertheless constantly predominated, and has derided and endeavoured to stigmatize as weakness and imbecility, the stopping short of great acquisitions, territorial especially, for moral considerations. queen ysabel lived surrounded by a world of such politicians, who were moreover stimulated to avarice by the prospect of american gold; a passion which yet more than ambition is apt to steel the heart of man against the calls of justice and the distresses of his fellow creatures. if ysabel had been endued with more than mortal fortitude, she might have refused her sanction to the usurpations, but could not have prevented them. on her death bed she earnestly recommended to king ferdinand to recall ovando. ovando, however, sent home much gold, and ferdinand referred to a distant time the fulfilment of her dying request. upon news of the death of queen ysabel, the small wages which had been paid the indians for their labour, amounting to about half a piastre _per_ month, were withheld, as being too grievous a burthen on the spanish colonists; and the hours of labour were no longer limited. [sidenote: .] in the province of _higuey_, the tyranny and licentiousness of the military again threw the poor natives into a frenzy of rage and despair, and they once more revolted, burnt the fort, and killed the soldiers. ovando resolved to put it out of the power of the people of _higuey_ ever again to be troublesome. a strong body of troops was marched into the province, the cacique of _higuey_ (the last of the _hayti_ kings) was taken prisoner and executed, and the province pacified. the pecuniary value of grants of land in _hayti_ with _encomiendas_, became so considerable as to cause them to be coveted and solicited for by many of the grandees and favourites of the court in _spain_, who, on obtaining them, sent out agents to turn them to account. [sidenote: desperate condition of the natives.] the agent was to make his own fortune by his employment, and to satisfy his principal. in no instance were the natives spared through any interference of the grand commander. it was a maxim with this bad man, always to keep well with the powerful; and every thing respecting the natives was yielded to their accommodation. care, however, was taken that the indians should be baptised, and that a head tax should be paid to the crown; and these particulars being complied with, the rest was left to the patron of the _encomienda_. punishments and tortures of every kind were practised, to wring labour out of men who were dying through despair. some of the accounts, which are corroborated by circumstances, relate, that the natives were frequently coupled and harnessed like cattle, and driven with whips. if they fell under their load, they were flogged up. to prevent their taking refuge in the woods or mountains, an officer, under the title of _alguazil del campo_, was constantly on the watch with a pack of hounds; and many indians, in endeavouring to escape, were torn in pieces. the settlers on the island, the great men at home, their agents, and the royal revenue, were all to be enriched at the expence of the destruction of the natives. it was as if the discovery of _america_ had changed the religion of the spaniards from christianity to the worship of gold with human sacrifices. if power were entitled to dominion between man and man, as between man and other animals, the spaniards would remain chargeable with the most outrageous abuse of their advantages. in enslaving the inhabitants of _hayti_, if they had been satisfied with reducing them to the state of cattle, it would have been merciful, comparatively with what was done. the labour imposed by mankind upon their cattle, is in general so regulated as not to exceed what is compatible with their full enjoyment of health; but the main consideration with the spanish proprietors was, by what means they should obtain the greatest quantity of gold from the labour of the natives in the shortest time. by an enumeration made in the year , the number of the natives in the whole island _hayti_ was reckoned at , , the remains of a population which fifteen years before exceeded a million. the insatiate colonists did not stop: many of the mines lay unproductive for want of labourers, and they bent their efforts to the supplying this defect. [sidenote: the grand antilles.] the islands of the _west indies_ have been classed into three divisions, which chiefly regard their situations; but they are distinguished also by other peculiar circumstances. the four largest islands, _cuba_, _hayti_, _jamaica_, and _porto rico_, have been called the _grand antilles_. when first discovered by europeans, they were inhabited by people whose similarity of language, of customs, and character, bespoke them the offspring of one common stock. [sidenote: small antilles, or caribbee islands.] the second division is a chain of small islands eastward of these, and extending south to the coast of _paria_ on the continent of _south america_. they have been called sometimes the _small antilles_; sometimes after the native inhabitants, the _caribbee islands_; and not less frequently by a subdivision, the windward and leeward islands. the inhabitants on these islands were a different race from the inhabitants of the _grand antilles_. they spoke a different language, were robust in person; and in disposition fierce, active, and warlike. some have conjectured them to be of tartar extraction, which corresponds with the belief that they emigrated from _north america_ to the _west indies_. it is supposed they drove out the original inhabitants from the _small antilles_, to establish themselves there; but they had not gained footing in the large islands. [sidenote: lucayas, or bahama islands.] the third division of the islands is the cluster which are situated to the north of _cuba_, and near _east florida_, and are called the _lucayas_, of whose inhabitants mention will shortly be made. the spanish government participated largely in the wickedness practised to procure labourers for the mines of _hispaniola_. pretending great concern for the cause of humanity, they declared it legal, and gave general license, for any individual to make war against, and enslave, people who were cannibals; under which pretext every nation, both of the american continent and of the islands, was exposed to their enterprises. spanish adventurers made attempts to take people from the small _antilles_, sometimes with success; but they were not obtained without danger, and in several expeditions of the kind, the spaniards were repulsed with loss. this made them turn their attention to the _lucayas islands_. [sidenote: .] the inhabitants of the _lucayas_, an unsuspicious and credulous people, did not escape the snares laid for them. ovando, in his dispatches to _spain_, represented the benefit it would be to the holy faith, to have the inhabitants of the _lucayas_ instructed in the christian religion; for which purpose, he said, 'it would be necessary they should be transported to _hispaniola_, as missionaries could not be spared to every place, and there was no other way in which this abandoned people could be converted.' [sidenote: the natives of the lucayas betrayed to the mines;] king ferdinand and the council of the indies were themselves so abandoned and destitute of all goodness, as to pretend to give credit to ovando's representation, and lent him their authority to sacrifice the lucayans, under the pretext of advancing religion. spanish ships were sent to the islands on this business, and the natives were at first inveigled on board by the foulest hypocrisy and treachery. among the artifices used by the spaniards, they pretended that they came from a delicious country, where rested the souls of the deceased fathers, kinsmen, and friends, of the lucayans, who had sent to invite them. [sidenote: and the islands wholly unpeopled.] the innocent islanders so seduced to follow the spaniards, when, on arriving at _hispaniola_, they found how much they had been abused, died in great numbers of chagrin and grief. afterwards, when these impious pretences of the spaniards were no longer believed, they dragged away the natives by force, as long as any could be found, till they wholly unpeopled the _lucayas islands_. the buccaneers of _america_, whose adventures and misdeeds are about to be related, may be esteemed saints in comparison with the men whose names have been celebrated as the conquerors of the new world. in the same manner as at the _lucayas_, other islands of the _west indies_, and different parts of the continent, were resorted to for recruits. a pearl fishery was established, in which the indians were not more spared as divers, than on the land as miners. _porto rico_ was conquered at this time. [sidenote: fate of the native inhabitants of porto rico.] ore had been brought thence, which was not so pure as that of _hayti_; but it was of sufficient value to determine ovando to the conquest of the island. the islanders were terrified by the carnage which the spaniards with their dogs made in the commencement of the war, and, from the fear of irritating them by further resistance, they yielded wholly at discretion, and were immediately sent to the mines, where in a short time they all perished. in the same year with _porto rico_, the island of _jamaica_ was taken possession of by the spaniards. [sidenote: . d. diego columbus, governor of hispaniola.] ovando was at length recalled, and was succeeded in the government of _hispaniola_ by don diego columbus, the eldest son and inheritor of the rights and titles of the admiral christopher. to conclude with ovando, it is related that he was regretted by his countrymen in the _indies_, and was well received at court. don diego did not make any alteration in the _repartimientos_, except that some of them changed hands in favour of his own adherents. during his government, some fathers of the dominican order had the courage to inveigh from the pulpit against the enormity of the _repartimientos_, and were so persevering in their representations, that the court of _spain_ found it necessary, to avoid scandal, to order an enquiry into the condition of the indians. in this enquiry it was seriously disputed, whether it was just or unjust to make them slaves. [sidenote: . increase of cattle in hayti.] the histories of _hispaniola_ first notice about this time a great increase in the number of cattle in the island. as the human race disappeared, less and less land was occupied in husbandry, till almost the whole country became pasturage for cattle, by far the greater part of which were wild. an ordonnance, issued in the year , specified, that as beasts of burthen were so much multiplied, the indians should not be made to carry or drag heavy loads. [sidenote: cuba.] in , the conquest of _cuba_ was undertaken and completed. the terror conceived of the spaniards is not to be expressed. the story of the conquest is related in a spanish history in the following terms: 'a leader was chosen, who had acquitted himself in high employments with fortune and good conduct. he had in other respects amiable qualities, and was esteemed a man of honour and rectitude. he went from _s. domingo_ with regular troops and above volunteers. he landed in _cuba_, not without opposition from the natives. in a few days, he surprised and took the principal cacique, named hatuey, prisoner, and _made him expiate in the flames the fault he had been guilty of in not submitting with a good grace to the conqueror_.' this cacique, when at the stake, being importuned by a spanish priest to become a christian, that he might go to heaven, replied, that if any spaniard was to be met in heaven, he hoped not to go there. [sidenote: .] the reader will be detained a very little longer with these irksome scenes. in , the number of the inhabitants of _hayti_ was reckoned , . a distributor of indians was appointed, with powers independent of the governor, with intention to save the few remaining natives of _hayti_. the new distributor began the exercise of his office by a general revocation of all the _encomiendas_, except those which had been granted by the king; and almost immediately afterwards, in the most open and shameless manner, he made new grants, and sold them to the highest bidder. [sidenote: .] he was speedily recalled; and another (the licentiate ybarra) was sent to supply his place, who had a high character for probity and resolution; but he died immediately on his arrival at _santo domingo_, and not without suspicion that he was poisoned. [sidenote: bart. de las casas, and cardinal ximenes; their endeavours to serve the indians. the cardinal dies.] the endeavours of the dominican friars in behalf of the natives were seconded by the licentiate bartolomeo de las casas, and by cardinal ximenes when he became prime minister of _spain_; and, to their great honour, they were both resolute to exert all their power to preserve the natives of _america_. the cardinal sent commissioners, and with them las casas, with the title of protector of the indians. but the cardinal died in ; after which all the exertions of las casas and the dominicans could not shake the _repartimientos_. [sidenote: .] at length, among the native islanders there sprung up one who had the courage to put himself at the head of a number of his countrymen, and the address to withdraw with them from the gripe of the spaniards, and to find refuge among the mountains. [sidenote: cacique henriquez.] this man was the son, and, according to the laws of inheritance, should have been the successor, of one of the principal caciques. he had been christened by the name of henriquez, and, in consequence of a regulation made by the late queen ysabel of _castile_, he had been educated, on account of his former rank, in a convent of the franciscans. he defended his retreat in the mountains by skilful management and resolute conduct, and had the good fortune in the commencement to defeat some parties of spanish troops sent against him, which encouraged more of his countrymen, and as many of the africans as could escape, to flock to him; and under his government, as of a sovereign prince, they withstood the attempts of the spaniards to subdue them. fortunately for henriquez and his followers, the conquest and settlement of _cuba_, and the invasion of _mexico_, which was begun at this time, lessened the strength of the spaniards in _hispaniola_, and enabled the insurgents for many years to keep all the spanish settlements in the island in continual alarm, and to maintain their own independence. during this time, the question of the propriety of keeping the islanders in slavery, underwent grave examinations. it is related that the experiment was tried, of allowing a number of the natives to build themselves two villages, to live in them according to their own customs and liking; and that the result was, they were found to be so improvident, and so utterly unable to take care of themselves, that the _encomiendas_ were pronounced to be necessary for their preservation. such an experiment is a mockery. before the conquest, and now under don henriquez, the people of _hayti_ shewed they wanted not the spaniards to take care of them. chap. iii. _ships of different european nations frequent the =west indies=. opposition experienced by them from the =spaniards=. hunting of cattle in =hispaniola=._ [sidenote: . adventure of an english ship.] in the year or , some spaniards in a caravela going from _st. domingo_ to the island _porto rico_, to take in a lading of cassava, were surprised at seeing a ship there of about tons, armed with cannon, which did not appear to belong to the spanish nation; and on sending a boat to make enquiry, she was found to be english. the account given by the english commander was, that two ships had sailed from _england_ in company, with the intention to discover the country of the great cham; that they were soon separated from each other by a tempest, and that this ship was afterwards in a sea almost covered with ice; that thence she had sailed southward to _brasil_, and, after various adventures, had found the way to _porto rico_. this same english ship, being provided with merchandise, went afterwards to _hispaniola_, and anchored near the entrance of the port of _san domingo_, where the captain sent on shore to demand leave to sell their goods. the demand was forwarded to the _audiencia_, or superior court in _san domingo_; but the castellana, or governor of the castle, francisco de tapia, could not endure with patience to see a ship of another nation in that part of the world, and, without waiting for the determination of the _audiencia_, ordered the cannon of the fort to be fired against her; on which she took up her anchor and returned to _porto rico_, where she purchased provisions, paying for what she got with wrought iron, and afterwards departed for _europe_[ ]. when this visit of an english ship to the _west indies_ was known in _spain_, it caused there great inquietude; and the governor of the castle of _san domingo_, it is said, was much blamed, because he had not, instead of forcing the ship to depart by firing his cannon, contrived to seize her, so that no one might have returned to teach others of their nation the route to the spanish indies. [sidenote: the french and other europeans resort to the west indies;] the english were not the only people of whom the spaniards had cause to be jealous, nor those from whom the most mischief was to be apprehended. the french, as already noticed, had very early made expeditions to _brasil_, and they now began to look at the _west indies_; so that in a short time the sight of other european ships than those of _spain_ became no novelty there. hakluyt mentions a thomas tyson, an englishman, who went to the _west indies_ in , as factor to some english merchants. [sidenote: are regarded as interlopers by the spaniards. . regulation proposed by the government in hispaniola, for protection against pirates.] when the spaniards met any of these intruders, if able to master them, they made prisoners of them, and many they treated as pirates. the new comers soon began to retaliate. in , the governor and council at _san domingo_ drew up the plan of a regulation for the security of their ships against the increasing dangers from pirates in the _west indies_. in this, they recommended, that a central port of commerce should be established in the _west indies_, to which every ship from _spain_ should be obliged to go first, as to a general rendezvous, and thence be dispatched, as might suit circumstances, to her farther destination; also, that all their ships homeward bound, from whatsoever part of the _west indies_, should first rendezvous at the same port; by which regulation their ships, both outward and homeward bound, would form escorts to each other, and have the benefit of mutual support; and they proposed that some port in _hispaniola_ should be appointed for the purpose, as most conveniently situated. this plan appears to have been approved by the council of the _indies_; but, from indolence, or some other cause, no farther measures were taken for its adoption. the attention of the spaniards was at this time almost wholly engrossed by the conquest and plunder of the american continent, which it might have been supposed would have sufficed them, according to the opinion of francisco preciado, a spanish discoverer, who observed, that _there was country enough to conquer for a thousand years_. the continental pursuits caused much diminution in the importance of the _west india islands_ to the spaniards. the mines of the islands were not comparable in richness with those of the continent, and, for want of labourers, many were left unworked. [sidenote: hunting of cattle in hispaniola.] the colonists in _hispaniola_, however, had applied themselves to the cultivation of the sugar-cane, and to manufacture sugar; also to hunting cattle, which was found a profitable employment, the skins and the suet turning to good account. [sidenote: matadores.] the spaniards denominated their hunters matadores, which in the spanish language signifies killers or slaughterers. that the english, french, and hollanders, in their early voyages to the _west indies_, went in expectation of meeting hostility from the spaniards, and with a determination therefore to commit hostility if they could with advantage, appears by an ingenious phrase of the french adventurers, who, if the first opportunity was in their favour, termed their profiting by it '_se dedomager par avance_.' much of _hispaniola_ had become desert. there were long ranges of coast, with good ports, that were unfrequented by any inhabitant whatever, and the land in every part abounded with cattle. these were such great conveniencies to the ships of the interlopers, that the western coast, which was the most distant part from the spanish capital, became a place of common resort to them when in want of provisions. another great attraction to them was the encouragement they received from spanish settlers along the coast; who, from the contracted and monopolizing spirit of their government in the management of their colonies, have at all times been eager to have communication with foreigners, that they might obtain supplies of european goods on terms less exorbitant than those which the royal regulations of _spain_ imposed. [sidenote: guarda-costas.] the government at _san domingo_ employed armed ships to prevent clandestine trade, and to clear the coasts of _hispaniola_ of interlopers, which ships were called _guarda costas_; and it is said their commanders were instructed not to take prisoners. on the other hand, the intruders formed combinations, came in collected numbers, and made descents on different parts of the coast, ravaging the spanish towns and settlements. in the customary course, such transactions would have come under the cognizance of the governments in _europe_; but matters here took a different turn. the spaniards, when they had the upper hand, did not fail to deal out their own pleasure for law; and in like manner, the english, french, and dutch, when masters, determined their own measure of retaliation. the different european governments were glad to avoid being involved in the settlement of disorders they had no inclination to repress. in answer to representations made by _spain_, they said, 'that the people complained against had acted entirely on their own authority, not as the subjects of any prince, and that the king of _spain_ was at liberty to proceed against them according to his own pleasure.' queen elizabeth of _england_, with more open asperity answered a complaint made by the spanish ambassador, of spanish ships being plundered by the english in the _west indies_, 'that the spaniards had drawn these inconveniencies upon themselves, by their severe and unjust dealings in their american commerce; for she did not understand why either her subjects, or those of any other european prince, should be debarred from traffic in the _indies_. that as she did not acknowledge the spaniards to have any title by the donation of the bishop of _rome_, so she knew no right they had to any places other than those they were in actual possession of; for that their having touched only here and there upon a coast, and given names to a few rivers or capes, were such insignificant things as could no ways entitle them to a propriety further than in the parts where they actually settled, and continued to inhabit[ ].' a warfare was thus established between europeans in the _west indies_, local and confined, which had no dependence upon transactions in _europe_. [sidenote: brethren of the coast.] all europeans not spaniards, whether it was war or peace between their nations in _europe_, on their meeting in the _west indies_, regarded each other as friends and allies, knowing then no other enemy than the spaniards; and, as a kind of public avowal of this confederation, they called themselves _brethren of the coast_. the first european intruders upon the spaniards in the _west indies_ were accordingly mariners, the greater number of whom, it is supposed, were french, and next to them the english. their first hunting of cattle in _hayti_, was for provisioning their ships. the time they began to form factories or establishments, to hunt cattle for the skins, and to cure the flesh as an article of traffic, is not certain; but it may be concluded that these occupations were began by the crews of wrecked vessels, or by seamen who had disagreed with their commander; and that the ease, plenty, and freedom from all command and subordination, enjoyed in such a life, soon drew others to quit their ships, and join in the same occupations. the ships that touched on the coast supplied the hunters with european commodities, for which they received in return hides, tallow, and cured meat. the appellation of _boucanier_ or _buccaneer_ was not invented, or at least not applied to these adventurers, till long after their first footing in _hayti_. at the time of oxnam's expedition across the _isthmus of america_ to the _south sea_, a. d. , it does not appear to have been known. there is no particular account of the events which took place on the coasts of _hispaniola_ in the early part of the contest between the spaniards and the new settlers. it is however certain, that it was a war of the severest retaliation; and in this disorderly state was continued the intercourse of the english, french, and dutch with the _west indies_, carried on by individuals neither authorized nor controlled by their governments, for more than a century. in , the english captain, francis drake, plundered the city of _san domingo_; and the numbers of the english and french in the _west indies_ increased so much, that shortly afterwards the spaniards found themselves necessitated to abandon all the western and north-western parts of _hispaniola_. chap. iv. _iniquitous settlement of the island =saint christopher= by the =english= and =french=. =tortuga= seized by the hunters. origin of the name =buccaneer=. the name =flibustier=. customs attributed to the =buccaneers=._ the increase of trade of the english and french to the _west indies_, and the growing importance of the freebooters or adventurers concerned in it, who, unassisted but by each other, had begun to acquire territory and to form establishments in spite of all opposition from the spaniards, attracted the attention of the british and french governments, and suggested to them a scheme of confederacy, in which some of the principal adventurers were consulted. the project adopted by them was, to plant a royal colony of each nation, on some one island, and at the same time; by which a constant mutual support would be secured. in as far as regarded the concerns of europeans with each other, this plan was unimpeachable. the island chosen by the projectors, as the best suited to their purpose, was one of the _small antilles_ or _caribbee islands_, known by the name of _st. christopher_, which is in length about seven leagues, and in breadth two and a half. [sidenote: . the island saint christopher settled by the english and french.] thus the governments of _great britain_ and _france_, like friendly fellow-travellers, and not like rivals who were to contend in a race, began their west-indian career by joint consent at the same point both in time and place. in the year , and on the same day, a colony of british and a colony of french, in the names and on the behalf of their respective nations, landed on this small island, the division of which had been settled by previous agreement. the island _st. christopher_ was at that time inhabited by caribbe indians. the spaniards had never possessed a settlement on it, but their ships had been accustomed to stop there, to traffic for provisions and refreshments. the french and english who came to take possession, landed without obtaining the consent of the native caribbe inhabitants; and, because danger was apprehended from their discontent, under pretence that the caribbs were friends to the spaniards, these new colonists fell upon them by surprise in the night, killed their principal leaders, and forced the rest to quit the island and seek another home. de rochefort, in his _histoire morale des isles antilles_ (p. .) mentions the english and french killing the caribb chiefs, in the following terms: '_ils se defirent en une nuit de tous les plus factieux de cette nation!_' thus in usurpation and barbarity was founded the first colony established under the authority of the british and french governments in the _west indies_; which colony was the parent of our african slave trade. when accounts of the conquest and of the proceedings at _saint christopher_ were transmitted to _europe_, they were approved; west-india companies were established, and licences granted to take out colonists. de rochefort has oddly enough remarked, that the french, english, and dutch, in their first establishments in the _west indies_, did not follow the cruel maxims of the spaniards. true it is, however, that they only copied in part. in their usurpations their aim went no farther than to dispossess, and they did not seek to make slaves of the people whom they deprived of their land. the english and french in a short time had disagreements, and began to make complaints of each other. the english took possession of the small island _nevis_, which is separated only by a narrow channel from the south end of _st. christopher_. p. charlevoix says, 'the ambition of the english disturbed the good understanding between the colonists of the two nations; but m. de cusac arriving with a squadron of the french king's ships, by taking and sinking some british ships lying there, brought the english governor to reason, and to confine himself to the treaty of partition.' [sidenote: . the english and french driven from saint christopher by the spaniards.] after effecting this amicable adjustment, de cusac sailed from _st. christopher_; and was scarcely clear of the island when a powerful fleet, consisting of thirty-nine large ships, arrived from _spain_, and anchored in the road. almost without opposition the spaniards became masters of the island, although the english and french, if they had cordially joined, could have mustered a force of twelve hundred men. intelligence that the spaniards intended this attack, had been timely received in _france_; and m. de cusac's squadron had in consequence been dispatched to assist in the defence of _st. christopher_; but the spaniards being slow in their preparations, their fleet did not arrive at the time expected, and de cusac, hearing no news of them, presumed that they had given up their design against _st. christopher_. without strengthening the joint colony, he gave the english a lesson on moderation, little calculated to incline them to co-operate heartily with the french in defence of the island, and sailed on a cruise to the _gulf of mexico_. shortly after his departure, towards the end of the year , the spanish fleet arrived. the colonists almost immediately despaired of being able to oppose so great a force. many of the french embarked in their ships in time to effect their escape, and to take refuge among the islands northward. the remainder, with the english, lay at the disposal of the spanish commander, don frederic de _toledo_. at this time _spain_ was at war with _england_, _france_, and _holland_; and this armament was designed ultimately to act against the hollanders in _brasil_, but was ordered by the way to drive the english and the french from the island of _saint christopher_. don frederic would not weaken his force by leaving a garrison there, and was in haste to prosecute his voyage to _brasil_. as the settlement of _saint christopher_ had been established on regular government authorities, the settlers were treated as prisoners of war. to clear the island in the most speedy manner, don frederic took many of the english on board his own fleet, and made as many of the other colonists embark as could be crowded in any vessels which could be found for them. he saw them get under sail, and leave the island; and from those who remained, he required their parole, that they would depart by the earliest opportunity which should present itself, warning them, at the same time, that if, on his return from _brasil_, he found any englishmen or frenchmen at _saint christopher_, they should be put to the sword. [sidenote: . they return.] after this, he sailed for _brasil_. as soon, however, as it was known that the spanish fleet had left the west-indian sea, the colonists, both english and french, returned to _saint christopher_, and repossessed themselves of their old quarters. the settlement of the island _saint christopher_ gave great encouragement to the hunters on the west coast of _hispaniola_. their manufactories for the curing of meat, and for drying the skins, multiplied; and as the value of them increased, they began to think it of consequence to provide for their security. [sidenote: the island tortuga seized by the english and french hunters.] to this end they took possession of the small island _tortuga_, near the north-west end of _hispaniola_, where the spaniards had placed a garrison, but which was too small to make opposition. there was a road for shipping, with good anchorage, at _tortuga_; and its separation from the main land of _hispaniola_ seemed to be a good guarantee from sudden and unexpected attack. they built magazines there, for the lodgement of their goods, and regarded this island as their head quarters, or place of general rendezvous to which to repair in times of danger. they elected no chief, erected no fortification, set up no authorities, nor fettered themselves by any engagement. all was voluntary; and they were negligently contented at having done so much towards their security. [sidenote: whence the name buccaneer.] about the time of their taking possession of _tortuga_, they began to be known by the name of buccaneers, of which appellation it will be proper to speak at some length. the flesh of the cattle killed by the hunters, was cured to keep good for use, after a manner learnt from the caribbe indians, which was as follows: the meat was laid to be dried upon a wooden grate or hurdle (_grille de bois_) which the indians called _barbecu_, placed at a good distance over a slow fire. the meat when cured was called _boucan_, and the same name was given to the place of their cookery. père labat describes _viande boucannée_ to be, _viande seché a petit feu et a la fumée_. the caribbes are said to have sometimes served their prisoners after this fashion, '_ils les mangent après les avoir bien boucannée, c'est a dire, rotis bien sec_[ ].' the boucan was a very favourite method of cooking among these indians. a caribbe has been known, on returning home from fishing, fatigued and pressed with hunger, to have had the patience to wait the roasting of a fish on a wooden grate fixed two feet above the ground, over a fire so small as sometimes to require the whole day to dress it[ ]. the flesh of the cattle was in general dried in the smoke, without being salted. the _dictionnaire de trevoux_ explains _boucaner_ to be '_faire sorer sans sel_,' to dry red without salt. but the flesh of wild hogs, and also of the beeves when intended for keeping a length of time, was first salted. the same thing was practised among the brasilians. it was remarked in one of the earliest visits of the portuguese to _brasil_, that the natives (who were cannibals) kept human flesh salted and smoked, hanging up in their houses[ ]. the meat cured by the buccaneers to sell to shipping for sea-store, it is probable was all salted. the process is thus described: 'the bones being taken out, the flesh was cut into convenient pieces and salted, and the next day was taken to the _boucan_.' sometimes, to give a peculiar relish to the meat, the skin of the animal was cast into the fire under it. the meat thus cured was of a fine red colour, and of excellent flavour; but in six months after it was boucanned, it had little taste left, except of salt. the boucanned hog's flesh continued good a much longer time than the flesh of the beeves, if kept in dry places. from adopting the boucan of the caribbes, the hunters in _hispaniola_, the spaniards excepted, came to be called boucaniers, but afterwards, according to a pronunciation more in favour with the english, buccaneers[ ]. many of the french hunters were natives of _normandy_; whence it became proverbial in some of the sea-ports of _normandy_ to say of a smoky house, _c'est un vrai boucan_. [sidenote: the name flibustier.] the french buccaneers and adventurers were also called flibustiers, and more frequently by that than by any other name. the word flibustier is merely the french mariner's mode of pronouncing the english word freebooter, a name which long preceded that of boucanier or buccaneer, as the occupation of cruising against the spaniards preceded that of hunting and curing meat. some authors have given a derivation to the name _flibustier_ from the word flyboat, because, say they, the french hunters in _hispaniola_ bought vessels of the dutch, called flyboats, to cruise upon the spaniards. there are two objections to this derivation. first, the word _flyboat_, is only an english translation of the dutch word _fluyt_, which is the proper denomination of the vessel intended by it. secondly, it would not very readily occur to any one to purchase dutch fluyts, or flyboats, for chasing vessels. some have understood the boucanier and flibustier to be distinct both in person and character[ ]. this was probably the case with a few, after the settlement of _tortuga_; but before, and very generally afterwards, the occupations were joined, making one of amphibious character. ships from all parts of the _west indies_ frequented _tortuga_, and it continually happened that some among the crews quitted their ships to turn buccaneers; whilst among the buccaneers some would be desirous to quit their hunting employment, to go on a cruise, to make a voyage, or to return to _europe_. the two occupations of hunting and cruising being so common to the same person, caused the names flibustier and buccaneer to be esteemed synonimous, signifying always and principally the being at war with the spaniards. the buccaneer and flibustier therefore, as long as they continued in a state of independence, are to be considered as the same character, exercising sometimes one, sometimes the other employment; and either name was taken by them indifferently, whether they were employed on the sea or on the land. but a fanciful kind of inversion took place, through the different caprices of the french and english adventurers. the greater part of the first cattle hunters were french, and the greater number of the first cruisers against the spaniards were english. the french adventurers, nevertheless, had a partiality for the name of flibustier; whilst the english shewed a like preference for the name of buccaneer, which, as will be seen, was assumed by many hundred seamen of their nation, who were never employed either in hunting or in the boucan. [sidenote: customs attributed to the buccaneers.] a propensity to make things which are extraordinary appear more so, has caused many peculiar customs to be attributed to the buccaneers, which, it is pretended, were observed as strictly as if they had been established laws. it is said that every buccaneer had his chosen and declared comrade, between whom property was in common, and if one died, the survivor was inheritor of the whole. this was called by the french _matelotage_. it is however acknowledged that the _matelotage_ was not a compulsatory regulation; and that the buccaneers sometimes bequeathed by will. a general right of participation in some things, among which was meat for present consumption, was acknowledged among them; and it is said, that bolts, locks, and every species of fastening, were prohibited, it being held that the use of such securities would have impeached the honour of their vocation. yet on commencing buccaneer, it was customary with those who were of respectable lineage, to relinquish their family name, and assume some other, as a _nom de guerre_. their dress, which was uniformly slovenly when engaged in the business of hunting or of the boucan, is mentioned as a prescribed _costume_, but which doubtless was prescribed only by their own negligence and indolence; in particular, that they wore an unwashed shirt and pantaloons dyed in the blood of the animals they had killed. other distinctions, equally capricious, and to little purpose, are related, which have no connexion with their history. some curious anecdotes are produced, to shew the great respect some among them entertained for religion and for morality. a certain flibustier captain, named daniel, shot one of his crew in the church, for behaving irreverently during the performance of mass. raveneau de lussan (whose adventures will be frequently mentioned) took the occupation of a buccaneer, because he was in debt, and wished, as every honest man should do, to have wherewithal to satisfy his creditors. in their sea enterprises, they followed most of the customs which are generally observed in private ships of war; and sometimes were held together by a subscribed written agreement, by the english called charter-party; by the french _chasse-partie_, which might in this case be construed a chasing agreement. whenever it happened that _spain_ was at open and declared war with any of the maritime nations of _europe_, the buccaneers who were natives of the country at war with her, obtained commissions, which rendered the vessels in which they cruised, regular privateers. the english adventurers sometimes, as is seen in dampier, called themselves privateers, applying the term to persons in the same manner we now apply it to private ships of war. the dutch, whose terms are generally faithful to the meaning intended, called the adventurers _zee roovers_; the word _roover_ in the dutch language comprising the joint sense of the two english words rover and robber. chap. v. _treaty made by the spaniards with don =henriquez=. increase of english and french in the =west indies=. =tortuga= surprised by the spaniards. policy of the english and french governments with respect to the buccaneers. =mansvelt=, his attempt to form an independent buccaneer establishment. french west-india company. =morgan= succeeds =mansvelt= as chief of the buccaneers._ [sidenote: .] the spanish government at length began to think it necessary to relax from their large pretensions, and in the year entered into treaties with other european nations, for mutual security of their west-india possessions. in a treaty concluded that year with _great britain_, it was declared, that peace, amity, and friendship, should be observed between their respective subjects, in all parts of the world. but this general specification was not sufficient to produce effect in the _west indies_. [sidenote: .] in _hispaniola_, in the year , the government at _san domingo_ concluded a treaty with don henriquez; which was the more readily accorded to him, because it was apprehended the revolted natives would league with the brethren of the coast. by this treaty all the followers of don henriquez who could claim descent from the original natives, in number four thousand persons, were declared free and under his protection, and lands were marked out for them. but, what is revolting to all generous hopes of human nature, the negroes were abandoned to the spaniards. magnanimity was not to be expected of the natives of _hayti_; yet they had shewn themselves capable of exertion for their own relief; and a small degree more of firmness would have included these, their most able champions, in the treaty. this weak and wicked defection from friends, confederated with them in one common and righteous cause, seems to have wrought its own punishment. the vigilance and vigour of mind of the negro might have guarded against encroachments upon the independence obtained; instead of which, the wretched haytians in a short time fell again wholly into the grinding hands of the spaniards: and in the early part of the eighteenth century, it was reckoned that the whole number living, of the descendants of the party of don henriquez, did not quite amount to one hundred persons. [sidenote: cultivation in tortuga.] the settlement of the buccaneers at _tortuga_ drew many europeans there, as well settlers as others, to join in their adventures and occupations. they began to clear and cultivate the grounds, which were before overgrown with woods, and made plantations of tobacco, which proved to be of extraordinary good quality. [sidenote: increase of the english and french settlements in the west indies.] more europeans, not spaniards, consequently allies of the buccaneers, continued to pour into the _west indies_, and formed settlements on their own accounts, on some of the islands of the small _antilles_. these settlements were not composed of mixtures of different people, but were most of them all english or all french; and as they grew into prosperity, they were taken possession of for the crowns of _england_ or of _france_ by the respective governments. under the government authorities new colonists were sent out, royal governors were appointed, and codes of law established, which combined, with the security of the colony, the interests of the mother-country. but at the same time these benefits were conferred, grants of lands were made under royal authority, which dispossessed many persons, who, by labour and perilous adventure, and some who at considerable expence, had achieved establishments for themselves, in favour of men till then no way concerned in any of the undertakings. in some cases, grants of whole islands were obtained, by purchase or favour; and the first settlers, who had long before gained possession, and who had cleared and brought the ground into a state for cultivation, were rendered dependent upon the new proprietary governors, to whose terms they were obliged to submit, or to relinquish their tenure. such were the hard accompaniments to the protection afforded by the governments of _france_ and _great britain_ to colonies, which, before they were acknowledged legitimate offsprings of the mother-country, had grown into consideration through their own exertions; and only because they were found worth adopting, were now received into the parent family. the discontents created by this rapacious conduct of the governments, and the disregard shewn to the claims of the first settlers, instigated some to resistance and rebellion, and caused many to join the buccaneers. the caribbe inhabitants were driven from their lands also with as little ceremony. the buccaneer colony at _tortuga_ had not been beheld with indifference by the spaniards. [sidenote: .] the buccaneers, with the carelessness natural to men in their loose condition of life, under neither command nor guidance, continued to trust to the supineness of the enemy for their safety, and neglected all precaution. [sidenote: tortuga surprised by the spaniards.] in the year , the spaniards with a large force fell unexpectedly upon _tortuga_, at a time when the greater number of the settlers were absent in _hispaniola_ on the chace; and those who were on the island, having neither fortress nor government, became an easy prey to the spaniards, who made a general massacre of all who fell into their hands, not only of those they surprised in the beginning, but many who afterwards came in from the woods to implore their lives on condition of returning to _europe_, they hanged. a few kept themselves concealed, till they found an opportunity to cross over to their brethren in _hispaniola_. it happened not to suit the convenience of the spaniards to keep a garrison at _tortuga_, and they were persuaded the buccaneers would not speedily again expose themselves to a repetition of such treatment as they had just experienced; therefore they contented themselves with destroying the buildings, and as much as they could of the plantations; after which they returned to _san domingo_. in a short time after their departure, the remnant of the hunters collected to the number of three hundred, again fixed themselves at _tortuga_, and, for the first time, elected a commander. as the hostility of the buccaneers had constantly and solely been directed against the spaniards, all other europeans in the _west indies_ regarded them as champions in the common cause, and the severities which had been exercised against them created less of dread than of a spirit of vengeance. the numbers of the buccaneers were quickly recruited by volunteers of english, french, and dutch, from all parts; and both the occupations of hunting and cruising were pursued with more than usual eagerness. the french and english governors in the _west indies_, influenced by the like feelings, either openly, or by connivance, gave constant encouragement to the buccaneers. the french governor at _st. christopher_, who was also governor general for the french west-india islands, was most ready to send assistance to the buccaneers. this governor, monsieur de poincy, an enterprising and capable man, had formed a design to take possession of the island _tortuga_ for the crown of _france_; which he managed to put in execution three years after, having by that time predisposed some of the principal french buccaneers to receive a garrison of the french king's troops. [sidenote: tortuga taken possession of for the crown of france.] this appropriation was made in ; and de poincy, thinking his acquisition would be more secure to _france_ by the absence of the english, forced all the english buccaneers to quit the island. the french writers say, that before the interposition of the french governor, the english buccaneers took advantage of their numbers, and domineered in _tortuga_. the english governors in the _west indies_ could not at this time shew the same tender regard for the english buccaneers, as the support they received from home was very precarious, owing to the disputes which then subsisted in _england_ between king charles and the english parliament, which engrossed so much of the public attention as to leave little to colonial concerns. the french commander de poincy pushed his success. in his appointment of a governor to _tortuga_, he added the title of governor of the west coast of _hispaniola_, and by degrees he introduced french garrisons. this was the first footing obtained by the government of _france_ in _hispaniola_. the same policy was observed there respecting the english as at _tortuga_, by which means was effected a separation of the english buccaneers from the french. after this time, it was only occasionally, and from accidental circumstances, or by special agreement, that they acted in concert. the english adventurers, thus elbowed out of _hispaniola_ and _tortuga_, lost the occupation of hunting cattle and of the boucan, but they continued to be distinguished by the appellation of buccaneers, and, when not cruising, most generally harboured at the islands possessed by the british. hitherto, it had rested in the power of the buccaneers to have formed themselves into an independent state. being composed of people of different nations, the admission of a governor from any one, might easily have been resisted. now, they were considered in a kind of middle state, between that of buccaneers and of men returned to their native allegiance. it seemed now in the power of the english and french governments to put a stop to their cruisings, and to furnish them with more honest employment; but politics of a different cast prevailed. the buccaneers were regarded as profitable to the colonies, on account of the prizes they brought in; and even vanity had a share in their being countenanced. [sidenote: policy of the english and french governments with respect to the buccaneers.] the french authors call them _nos braves_, and the english speak of their 'unparalleled exploits.' the policy both of _england_ and of _france_ with respect to the buccaneers, seems to have been well described in the following sentence: _on laissoit faire des avanturiers, qu'on pouvoit toujours desavouer, mais dont les succes pouvoient etre utiles_: _i. e._ 'they connived at the actions of these adventurers, which could always be disavowed, and whose successes might be serviceable.' this was not esteemed _friponnerie_, but a maxim of sound state policy. in the character given of a good french west-india governor, he is praised, for that, 'besides encouraging the cultivation of lands, he never neglected to encourage the _flibustiers_. it was a certain means of improving the colony, by attracting thither the young and enterprising. he would scarcely receive a slight portion of what he was entitled to from his right of bestowing commissions in time of war[ ]. and when we were at peace, and our flibustiers, for want of other employment, would go cruising, and would carry their prizes to the english islands, he was at the pains of procuring them commissions from _portugal_, which country was then at war with _spain_; in virtue of which our _flibustiers_ continued to make themselves redoubtable to the spaniards, and to spread riches and abundance in our colonies.' this panegyric was bestowed by père labat; who seems to have had more of national than of moral or religious feeling on this head. it was a powerful consideration with the french and english governments, to have at their occasional disposal, without trouble or expence, a well trained military force, always at hand, and willing to be employed upon emergency; who required no pay nor other recompense for their services and constant readiness, than their share of plunder, and that their piracies upon the spaniards should pass unnoticed. [sidenote: .] towards the end of , a new governor general for the french west-india possessions was appointed by the french regency (during the minority of louis xiv.); but the commander de poincy did not choose to resign, and the colonists were inclined to support him. great discontents prevailed in the french colonies, which rendered them liable to being shaken by civil wars; and the apprehensions of the regency on this head enabled de poincy to stand his ground. he remained governor general over the french colonies not only for the time, but was continued in that office, by succeeding administrations, many years. [sidenote: . the buccaneers plunder new segovia.] about the year , a large party of buccaneers, french and english, joined in an expedition on the continent. they ascended a river of the _mosquito shore_, a small distance on the south side of _cape gracias a dios_, in canoes; and after labouring nearly a month against a strong stream and waterfalls, they left their canoes, and marched to the town of _nueva segovia_, which they plundered, and then returned down the river. [sidenote: the spaniards retake tortuga. . with the assistance of the buccaneers, the english take jamaica: ; and the french retake tortuga.] in the same year, the spaniards took _tortuga_ from the french. in the year following, , _england_ being at war with _spain_, a large force was sent from _england_ to attempt the conquest of the island _hispaniola_. in this attempt they failed; but afterwards fell upon _jamaica_, of which island they made themselves masters, and kept possession. in the conquest of _jamaica_, the english were greatly assisted by the buccaneers; and a few years after, with their assistance also, the french regained possession of _tortuga_. on the recovery of _tortuga_, the french buccaneers greatly increased in the northern and western parts of _hispaniola_. _spain_ also sent large reinforcements from _europe_; and for some years war was carried on with great spirit and animosity on both sides. during the heat of this contest, the french buccaneers followed more the occupation of hunting, and less that of cruising, than at any other period of their history. the spaniards finding they could not expel the french from _hispaniola_, determined to join their efforts to those of the french hunters, for the destruction of the cattle and wild hogs on the island, so as to render the business of hunting unproductive. but the french had begun to plant; and the depriving them of the employment of hunting, drove them to other occupations not less contrary to the interest and wishes of the spaniards. the less profit they found in the chase, the more they became cultivators and cruisers. [sidenote: pierre le grand, a french buccaneer.] the buccaneer histories of this period abound with relations: of daring actions performed by them; but many of which are chiefly remarkable for the ferocious cruelty of the leaders by whom they were conducted. pierre, a native of _dieppe_, for his success received to his name the addition of _le grand_, and is mentioned as one of the first flibustiers who obtained much notoriety. in a boat, with a crew of twenty-eight men, he surprised and took the ship of the vice-admiral of the spanish galeons, as she was sailing homeward-bound with a rich freight. he set the spanish crew on shore at _cape tiburon_, the west end of _hispaniola_, and sailed in his prize to _france_. [sidenote: alexandre.] a frenchman, named alexandre, also in a small vessel, took a spanish ship of war. [sidenote: montbars, surnamed the exterminator.] it is related of another frenchman, a native of _languedoc_, named montbars, that on reading a history of the cruelty of the spaniards to the americans, he conceived such an implacable hatred against the spaniards, that he determined on going to the _west indies_ to join the buccaneers; and that he there pursued his vengeance with so much ardour as to acquire the surname of the exterminator. [sidenote: bartolomeo portuguez.] one buccaneer of some note was a native of _portugal_, known by the name of bartolomeo portuguez; who, however, was more renowned for his wonderful escapes, both in battle, and from the gallows, than for his other actions. [sidenote: l'olonnois, a french buccaneer, and michel le basque, take maracaibo and gibraltar.] but no one of the buccaneers hitherto named, arrived at so great a degree of notoriety, as a frenchman, called françois l'olonnois, a native of part of the french coast which is near the sands of _olonne_, but whose real name is not known. this man, and michel le basque, both buccaneer commanders, at the head of men, took the towns of _maracaibo_ and _gibraltar_ in the _gulf of venezuela_, on the _tierra firma_. the booty they obtained by the plunder and ransom of these places, was estimated at , crowns. the barbarities practised on the prisoners could not be exceeded. [sidenote: outrages committed by l'olonnois.] olonnois was possessed with an ambition to make himself renowned for being terrible. at one time, it is said, he put the whole crew of a spanish ship, ninety men, to death, performing himself the office of executioner, by beheading them. he caused the crews of four other vessels to be thrown into the sea; and more than once, in his frenzies, he tore out the hearts of his victims, and devoured them. yet this man had his encomiasts; so much will loose notions concerning glory, aided by a little partiality, mislead even sensible men. père charlevoix says, _celui de tous, dont les grandes actions illustrerent davantage les premieres années du gouvernement de m. d'ogeron, fut l'olonnois. ses premiers succès furent suivis de quelques malheurs, qui ne servirent qu'à donner un nouveau lustre à sa gloire._ the career of this savage was terminated by the indians of the coast of _darien_, on which he had landed. [sidenote: mansvelt, a buccaneer chief; his plan for forming a buccaneer establishment. .] the buccaneers now went in such formidable numbers, that several spanish towns, both on the continent and among the islands of the _west indies_, submitted to pay them contribution. and at this time, a buccaneer commander, named mansvelt, more provident and more ambitious in his views than any who preceded him, formed a project for founding an independent buccaneer establishment. of what country mansvelt was native, does not appear; but he was so popular among the buccaneers, that both french and english were glad to have him for their leader. the greater number of his followers in his attempt to form a settlement were probably english, as he fitted out in _jamaica_. a welshman, named henry morgan, who had made some successful cruises as a buccaneer, went with him as second in command. [sidenote: island s^{ta} katalina, or providence; since named old providence.] the place designed by them for their establishment, was an island named _s^{ta} katalina_, or _providence_, situated in latitude ° ' n, about leagues to the eastward of the _mosquito shore_. this island is scarcely more than two leagues in its greatest extent, but has a harbour capable of being easily fortified against an enemy; and very near to its north end is a much smaller island. the late charts assign the name of _s^{ta} katalina_ to the small island, and give to the larger island that of _old providence_, the epithet _old_ having been added to distinguish this from the _providence_ of the _bahama islands_. at the time mansvelt undertook his scheme of settlement, this _s^{ta} katalina_, or _providence island_, was occupied by the spaniards, who had a fort and good garrison there. some time in or near the year , mansvelt sailed thither from _jamaica_, with fifteen vessels and men. he assaulted and took the fort, which he garrisoned with one hundred buccaneers and all the slaves he had taken, and left the command to a frenchman, named le sieur simon. at the end of his cruise, he returned to _jamaica_, intending to procure there recruits for his settlement of _s^{ta} katalina_; but the governor of _jamaica_, however friendly to the buccaneers whilst they made _jamaica_ their home, saw many reasons for disliking mansvelt's plan, and would not consent to his raising men. [sidenote: death of mansvelt.] not being able to overcome the governor's unwillingness, mansvelt sailed for _tortuga_, to try what assistance he could procure there; but in the passage he was suddenly taken ill, and died. for a length of time after, simon remained at _s^{ta} katalina_ with his garrison, in continual expectation of seeing or hearing from mansvelt; instead of which, a large spanish force arrived and besieged his fort, when, learning of mansvelt's death, and seeing no prospect of receiving reinforcement or relief, he found himself obliged to surrender. [sidenote: french west-india company.] the government in _france_ had appointed commissioners on behalf of the french west-india company, to take all the islands called the _french antilles_, out of the hands of individuals, subjects of _france_, who had before obtained possession, and to put them into the possession of the said company, to be governed according to such provisions as they should think proper. [sidenote: .] in february , m. d'ogeron was appointed governor of _tortuga_, and of the french settlements in _hispaniola_, or _st. domingo_, as the island was now more commonly called. [sidenote: the french settlers dispute their authority.] on his arrival at _tortuga_, the french adventurers, both there and in _hispaniola_, declared that if he came to govern in the name of the king of _france_, he should find faithful and obedient subjects; but they would not submit themselves to any company; and in no case would they consent to the prohibiting their trade with the hollanders, 'with whom,' said the buccaneers, 'we have been in the constant habit of trading, and were so before it was known in _france_ that there was a single frenchman in _tortuga_, or on the coast of _st. domingo_.' [sidenote: - .] m. d'ogeron had recourse to dissimulation to allay these discontents. he yielded consent to the condition respecting the commerce with the dutch, fully resolved not to observe it longer than till his authority should be sufficiently established for him to break it with safety; and to secure the commerce within his government exclusively to the french west-india company, who, when rid of all competitors, would be able to fix their own prices. it was not long before m. d'ogeron judged the opportunity was arrived for effecting this revocation without danger; but it caused a revolt of the french settlers in _st. domingo_, which did not terminate without bloodshed and an execution; and so partial as well as defective in principle were the historians who have related the fact, that they have at the same time commended m. d'ogeron for his probity and simple manners. in the end, he prevailed in establishing a monopoly for the company, to the injury of his old companions the french buccaneers, with whom he had at a former period associated, and who had been his benefactors in a time of his distress. [sidenote: morgan succeeds mansvelt; plunders puerto del principe.] on the death of mansvelt, morgan was regarded as the most capable and most fortunate leader of any of the _jamaica_ buccaneers. with a body of several hundred men, who placed themselves under his command, he took and plundered the town of _puerto del principe_ in _cuba_. a quarrel happened at this place among the buccaneers, in which a frenchman was treacherously slain by an englishman. the french took to arms, to revenge the death of their countryman; but morgan pacified them by putting the murderer in irons, and promising he should be delivered up to justice on their return to _jamaica_; which was done, and the criminal was hanged. but in some other respects, the french were not so well satisfied with morgan for their commander, as they had been with mansvelt. morgan was a great rogue, and little respected the old proverb of, honour among thieves: this had been made manifest to the french, and almost all of them separated from him. [sidenote: . maracaibo again pillaged. . morgan takes porto bello: exercises great cruelty.] _maracaibo_ was now a second time pillaged by the french buccaneers, under michel le basque. morgan's next undertaking was against _porto bello_, one of the principal and best fortified ports belonging to the spaniards in the _west indies_. he had under his command only men; but not having revealed his design to any person, he came on the town by surprise, and found it unprepared. shocking cruelties are related to have been committed in this expedition. among many others, that a castle having made more resistance than had been expected, morgan, after its surrendering, shut up the garrison in it, and caused fire to be set to the magazine, destroying thereby the castle and the garrison together. in the attack of another fort, he compelled a number of religious persons, both male and female, whom he had taken prisoners, to carry and plant scaling ladders against the walls; and many of them were killed by those who defended the fort. the buccaneers in the end became masters of the place, and the use they made of their victory corresponded with their actions in obtaining it. many prisoners died under tortures inflicted on them to make them discover concealed treasures, whether they knew of any or not. a large ransom was also extorted for the town and prisoners. this success attracted other buccaneers, among them the french again, to join morgan; and by a kind of circular notice they rendezvoused in large force under his command at the _isla de la vaca_ (by the french called _isle avache_) near the sw part of _hispaniola_. a large french buccaneer ship was lying at _la vaca_, which was not of this combination, the commander and crew of which refused to join with morgan, though much solicited. morgan was angry, but dissembled, and with a show of cordiality invited the french captain and his officers to an entertainment on board his own ship. when they were his guests, they found themselves his prisoners; and their ship, being left without officers, was taken without resistance. the men put by morgan in charge of the ship, fell to drinking; and, whether from their drunkenness and negligence, or from the revenge of any of the prisoners, cannot be known, she suddenly blew up, by which english buccaneers, and all the frenchmen on board her, perished. _the history of the buccaneers of america_, in which the event is related, adds by way of remark, 'thus was this unjust action of captain morgan's soon followed by divine justice; for this ship, the largest in his fleet, was blown up in the air, with englishmen and all the french prisoners.' this comment seems to have suggested to voltaire the ridicule he has thrown on the indiscriminate manner in which men sometimes pronounce misfortune to be a peculiar judgment of god, in the dialogue he put into the mouths of candide and martin, on the wicked dutch skipper being drowned. [sidenote: . maracaibo and gibraltar plundered by morgan.] from _isla de la vaca_ morgan sailed with his fleet to _maracaibo_ and _gibraltar_; which unfortunate towns were again sacked. it was a frequent practice with these desperadoes to secure their prisoners by shutting them up in churches, where it was easy to keep guard over them. this was done by morgan at _maracaibo_ and _gibraltar_, and with so little care for their subsistence, that many of the prisoners were actually starved to death, whilst their merciless victors were rioting in the plunder of their houses. morgan remained so long at _gibraltar_, that the spaniards had time to repair and put in order a castle at the entrance of the _lagune of maracaibo_; and three large spanish ships of war arrived and took stations near the castle, by which they hoped to cut off the retreat of the pirates. [sidenote: his contrivances in effecting his retreat.] the buccaneer histories give morgan much credit here, for his management in extricating his fleet and prizes from their difficult situation, which is related to have been in the following manner. he converted one of his vessels into a fire-ship, but so fitted up as to preserve the appearance of a ship intended for fighting, and clumps of wood were stuck up in her, dressed with hats on, to resemble men. by means of this ship, the rest of his fleet following close at hand, he took one of the spanish ships, and destroyed the two others. still there remained the castle to be passed; which he effected without loss, by a stratagem which deceived the spaniards from their guard. during the day, and in sight of the castle, he filled his boats with armed men, and they rowed from the ships to a part of the shore which was well concealed by thickets. after waiting as long as might be supposed to be occupied in the landing, all the men lay down close in the bottom of the boats, except two in each, who rowed them back, going to the sides of the ships which were farthest from the castle. this being repeated several times, caused the spaniards to believe that the buccaneers intended an assault by land with their whole force; and they made disposition with their cannon accordingly, leaving the side of the castle towards the sea unprovided. when it was night, and the ebb tide began to make, morgan's fleet took up their anchors, and, without setting sail, it being moonlight, they fell down the river, unperceived, till they were nigh the castle. they then set their sails, and fired upon the castle, and before the spaniards could bring their guns back to return the fire, the ships were past. the value of the booty made in this expedition was , pieces of eight. some minor actions of the buccaneers are omitted here, not being of sufficient consequence to excuse detaining the reader, to whom will next be related one of their most remarkable exploits. chap. vi. _treaty of =america=. expedition of the buccaneers against =panama=. exquemelin's history of the american sea rovers. misconduct of the european governors in the =west indies=._ [sidenote: .] in july , was concluded a treaty between _great britain_ and _spain_, made expressly with the intention of terminating the buccaneer war, and of settling all disputes between the subjects of the two countries in _america_. it has been with this especial signification entitled the treaty of _america_, and is the first which appears to have been dictated by a mutual disposition to establish peace in the _west indies_. the articles particularly directed to this end are the following:-- [sidenote: treaty between great britain and spain, called the treaty of america.] art. ii. there shall be an universal peace and sincere friendship, as well in _america_, as in other parts, between the kings of _great britain_ and _spain_, their heirs and successors, their kingdoms, plantations, &c. iii. that all hostilities, depredations, &c. shall cease between the subjects of the said kings. iv. the two kings shall take care that their subjects forbear all acts of hostility, and shall call in all commissions, letters of marque and reprisals, and punish all offenders, obliging them to make reparation. vii. all past injuries, on both sides, shall be buried in oblivion. viii. the king of _great britain_ shall hold and enjoy all the lands, countries, &c. he is now possessed of in _america_. ix. the subjects on each side shall forbear trading or sailing to any places whatsoever under the dominion of the other, without particular licence. xiv. particular offences shall be repaired in the common course of justice, and no reprisals made unless justice be denied, or unreasonably retarded. when notice of this treaty was received in the _west indies_, the buccaneers, immediately as of one accord, resolved to undertake some grand expedition. many occurrences had given rise to jealousies between the english and the french in the _west indies_; but morgan's reputation as a commander was so high, that adventurers from all parts signified their readiness to join him, and he appointed _cape tiburon_ on the west of _hispaniola_ for the place of general rendezvous. in consequence of this summons, in the beginning of december , a fleet was there collected under his command, consisting of no less than thirty-seven vessels of different sizes, and above men. having so large a force, he held council with the principal commanders, and proposed for their determination, which they should attempt of the three places, _carthagena_, _vera cruz_, and _panama_. _panama_ was believed to be the richest, and on that city the lot fell. a century before, when the name of buccaneer was not known, roving adventurers had crossed the _isthmus of america_ from the _west indies_ to the _south sea_; but the fate of oxnam and his companions deterred others from the like attempt, until the time of the buccaneers, who, as they increased in numbers, extended their enterprises, urged by a kind of necessity, the _west indies_ not furnishing plunder sufficient to satisfy so many men, whose modes of expenditure were not less profligate than their means of obtaining were violent and iniquitous. [sidenote: expedition of the buccaneers against panama.] the rendezvous appointed by morgan for meeting his confederates was distant from any authority which could prevent or impede their operations; and whilst they remained on the coast of _hispaniola_, he employed men to hunt cattle, and cure meat. he also sent vessels to collect maize, at the settlements on the _tierra firma_. specific articles of agreement were drawn up and subscribed to, for the distribution of plunder. morgan, as commander in chief, was to receive one hundredth part; each captain was to have eight shares; provision was stipulated for the maimed and wounded, and rewards for those who should particularly distinguish themselves. [sidenote: december. they take the island s^{ta} katalina.] these matters being settled, on december the th, the whole fleet sailed, from _cape tiburon_; on the th, they arrived at the island _s^{ta} katalina_, then occupied by the spaniards, who had garrisoned it chiefly with criminals sentenced to serve there by way of punishment. morgan had fully entered into the project of mansvelt for forming an establishment at _s^{ta} katalina_, and he was not the less inclined to it now that he considered himself as the head of the buccaneers. the island surrendered upon summons. it is related, that at the request of the governor, in which morgan indulged him, a military farce was performed; morgan causing cannon charged only with powder to be fired at the fort, which returned the like fire for a decent time, and then lowered their flag. morgan judged it would contribute to the success of the proposed expedition against _panama_, to make himself master of the fort or castle of _san lorenzo_ at the entrance of the _river chagre_. for this purpose he sent a detachment of men under the command of an old buccaneer named brodely, and in the mean time remained himself with the main body of his forces at _s^{ta} katalina_, to avoid giving the spaniards cause to suspect his further designs. [sidenote: attack of the castle at the river chagre.] the castle of _chagre_ was strong, both in its works and in situation, being built on the summit of a steep hill. it was valiantly assaulted, and no less valiantly defended. the buccaneers were once forced to retreat. they returned to the attack, and were nearly a second time driven back, when a powder magazine in the fort blew up, and the mischief and confusion thereby occasioned gave the buccaneers opportunity to force entrance through the breaches they had made. the governor of the castle refused to take quarter which was offered him by the buccaneers, as did also some of the spanish soldiers. more than men of which composed the garrison were killed. the loss on the side of the buccaneers was above men killed outright, and wounded. [sidenote: . january. march of the buccaneers across the isthmus.] on receiving intelligence of the castle being taken, morgan repaired with the rest of his men from _s^{ta} katalina_. he set the prisoners to work to repair the castle of _san lorenzo_, in which he stationed a garrison of men; he also appointed men to take care of the ships; and on the th of january [ ], he set forward at the head of men for _panama_. one party with artillery and stores embarked in canoes, to mount the _river chagre_, the course of which is extremely serpentine. at the end of the second day, however, they quitted the canoes, on account of the many obstructions from trees which had fallen in the river, and because the river was at this time in many places almost dry; but the way by land was also found so difficult for the carriage of stores, that the canoes were again resorted to. on the sixth day, when they had expended great part of their travelling store of provisions, they had the good fortune to discover a barn full of maize. they saw many native indians, who all kept at a distance, and it was in vain endeavoured to overtake some. on the seventh day they came to a village called _cruz_, the inhabitants of which had set fire to their houses, and fled. they found there, however, fifteen jars of peruvian wine, and a sack of bread. the village of _cruz_ is at the highest part of the _river chagre_ to which boats or canoes, can arrive. it was reckoned to be eight leagues distant from _panama_. on the ninth day of their journey, they came in sight of the _south sea_; and here they were among fields in which cattle grazed. towards evening, they had sight of the steeples of _panama_. in the course of their march thus far from the castle of _chagre_, they lost, by being fired at from concealed places, ten men killed; and as many more were wounded. _panama_ had not the defence of regular fortifications. some works had been raised, but in parts the city lay open, and was to be won or defended by plain fighting. according to the buccaneer account, the spaniards had about infantry and horse; which force, it is to be supposed, was in part composed of inhabitants and slaves. [sidenote: th. the city of panama taken.] january the th, early in the morning, the buccaneers resumed their march towards the city. the spaniards came out to meet them. in this battle, the spaniards made use of wild bulls, which they drove upon the buccaneers to disorder their ranks; but it does not appear to have had much effect. in the end, the spaniards gave way, and before night, the buccaneers were masters of the city. all that day, the buccaneers gave no quarter, either during the battle, or afterwards. six hundred spaniards fell. the buccaneers lost many men, but the number is not specified. [sidenote: the city burnt.] one of the first precautions taken by morgan after his victory, was to prevent drunkenness among his men: to which end, he procured to have it reported to him that all the wine in the city had been poisoned by the inhabitants; and on the ground of this intelligence, he strictly prohibited every one, under severe penalties, from tasting wine. before they had well fixed their quarters in _panama_, several parts of the city burst out in flames, which spread so rapidly, that in a short time many magnificent edifices built with cedar, and a great part of the city, were burnt to the ground. whether this was done designedly, or happened accidentally, owing to the consternation of the inhabitants during the assault, has been disputed. morgan is accused of having directed some of his people to commit this mischief, but no motive is assigned that could induce him to an act which cut off his future prospect of ransom. morgan charged it upon the spaniards; and it is acknowledged the buccaneers gave all the assistance they were able to those of the inhabitants who endeavoured to stop the progress of the fire, which nevertheless continued to burn near four weeks before it was quite extinguished. among the buildings destroyed, was a factory-house belonging to the genoese, who then carried on the trade of supplying the spaniards with slaves from _africa_. the rapacity, licentiousness, and cruelty, of the buccaneers, in their pillage of _panama_, had no bounds. 'they spared,' says the narrative of a buccaneer named exquemelin, 'in these their cruelties no sex nor condition whatsoever. as to religious persons and priests, they granted them less quarter than others, unless they procured a considerable sum of money for their ransom.' morgan sent detachments to scour the country for plunder, and to bring in prisoners from whom ransom might be extorted. many of the inhabitants escaped with their effects by sea, and went for shelter to the islands in the _bay of panama_. morgan found a large boat lying aground in the port, which he caused to be lanched, and manned with a numerous crew, and sent her to cruise among the islands. a galeon, on board which the women of a convent had taken refuge, and in which money, plate, and other valuable effects, had been lodged, very narrowly escaped falling into their hands. they made prize of several vessels, one of which was well adapted for cruising. this opened a new prospect; and some of the buccaneers began to consult how they might quit morgan, and seek their fortunes on the _south sea_, whence they proposed to sail, with the plunder they should obtain, by the _east indies_ to _europe_. but morgan received notice of their design before it could be put in execution, and to prevent such a diminution of his force, he ordered the masts of the ship to be cut away, and all the boats or vessels lying at _panama_ which could suit their purpose, to be burnt. [sidenote: feb. th. the buccaneers depart from panama.] the old city of _panama_ is said to have contained houses, many of which were magnificent edifices built with cedar. on the th of february, morgan and his men departed from its ruins, taking with them mules laden with spoil, and prisoners, some of them carrying burthens, and others for whose release ransom was expected. among the latter were many women and children. these poor creatures were designedly caused to suffer extreme hunger and thirst, and kept under apprehensions of being carried to _jamaica_ to be sold as slaves, that they might the more earnestly endeavour to procure money to be brought for their ransom. when some of the women, upon their knees and in tears, begged of morgan to let them return to their families, his answer to them was, that 'he came not there to listen to cries and lamentations, but to seek money,' morgan's thirst for money was not restrained to seeking it among his foes. he had a hand equally ready for that of his friends. neither did he think his friends people to be trusted; for in the middle of the march back to _chagre_, he drew up his men and caused them to be sworn, that they had not reserved or concealed any plunder, but had delivered all fairly into the common stock. this ceremony, it seems, was not uncustomary. 'but captain morgan having had experience that those loose fellows would not much stickle to swear falsely in such a case, he commanded every one to be searched; and that it might not be esteemed an affront, he permitted himself to be first searched, even to the very soles of his shoes. the french buccaneers who had engaged on this expedition with morgan, were not well satisfied with this new custom of searching; but their number being less than that of the english, they were forced to submit.' on arriving at _chagre_, a division was made. the narrative says, 'every person received his portion, or rather what part thereof captain morgan was pleased to give him. for so it was, that his companions, even those of his own nation, complained of his proceedings; for they judged it impossible that, of so many valuable robberies, no greater share should belong to them than pieces of eight _per_ head. but captain morgan was deaf to these, and to many other complaints of the same kind.' as morgan was not disposed to allay the discontents of his men by coming to a more open reckoning with them, to avoid having the matter pressed upon him, he determined to withdraw from his command, 'which he did without calling any council, or bidding any one adieu; but went secretly on board his own ship, and put out to sea without giving notice, being followed only by three or four vessels of the whole fleet, who it is believed went shares with him in the greatest part of the spoil.' the rest of the buccaneer vessels soon separated. morgan went to _jamaica_, and had begun to levy men to go with him to the island _s^{ta} katalina_, which he purposed to hold as his own, and to make it a common place of refuge for pirates; when the arrival of a new governor at _jamaica_, lord john vaughan, with orders to enforce the late treaty with _spain_, obliged him to relinquish his plan. [sidenote: exquemelin's history of the buccaneers of america.] the foregoing account of the destruction of _panama_ by morgan, is taken from a history of the buccaneers of america, written originally in the dutch language by a buccaneer named exquemelin, and published at amsterdam in , with the title of _de americaensche zee roovers_. exquemelin's book contains only partial accounts of the actions of some of the principal among the buccaneers. he has set forth the valour displayed by them in the most advantageous light; but generally, what he has related is credible. his history has been translated into all the european languages, but with various additions and alterations by the translators, each of whom has inclined to maintain the military reputation of his own nation. the spanish translation is entitled _piratas_, and has the following short complimentary poem prefixed, addressed to the spanish editor and emendator:-- de agamenôn cantó la vida homero y virgilio de eneas lo piadoso camoes de gama el curso presurosso gongora el brio de colon velero. tu, o alonso! mas docto y verdadoro, descrives del america ingenioso lo que assalta el pirata codicioso: lo que defiende el español guerrero. the french translation is entitled _les avanturiers qui se sont signalez dans les indes_, and contains actions of the french flibustiers which are not in exquemelin. the like has been done in the english translation, which has for title _the bucaniers of america_. the english translator, speaking of the sacking of _panama_, has expressed himself with a strange mixture of boasting and compunctious feeling. this account, he says, contains the unparalleled and bold exploits of sir henry morgan, written by one of the buccaneers who was present at those tragedies. it has been remarked, that the treaty of _america_ furnishes an apology for the enterprises of the buccaneers previous to its notification; it being so worded as to admit an inference that the english and spaniards were antecedently engaged in a continual war in _america_. [sidenote: .] the new governor of _jamaica_ was authorized and instructed to proclaim a general pardon, and indemnity from prosecution, for all piratical offences committed to that time; and to grant acres of land to every buccaneer who should claim the benefit of the proclamation, and would promise to apply himself to planting; a measure from which the most beneficial effects might have been expected, not to the british colonists only, but to all around, in turning a number of able men from destructive occupations to useful and productive pursuits, if it had not been made subservient to sordid views. the author of the _history of jamaica_ says, 'this offer was intended as a lure to engage the buccaneers to come into port with their effects, that the governor might, and which he was directed to do, take from them the tenths and fifteenths of their booty as the dues of the crown [and of the colonial government] for granting them commissions.' those who had neglected to obtain commissions would of course have to make their peace by an increased composition. in consequence of this scandalous procedure, the jamaica buccaneers, to avoid being so taxed, kept aloof from _jamaica_, and were provoked to continue their old occupations. most of them joined the french flibustiers at _tortuga_. some were afterwards apprehended at _jamaica_, where they were brought to trial, condemned as pirates, and executed. [sidenote: .] a war which was entered into by _great britain_ and _france_ against _holland_, furnished for a time employment for the buccaneers and flibustiers, and procured the spaniards a short respite. [sidenote: . flibustiers shipwrecked at porto rico;] in , the french made an attempt to take the island of _curaçao_ from the dutch, and failed. m. d'ogeron, the governor of _tortuga_, intended to have joined in this expedition, for which purpose he sailed in a ship named l'ecueil, manned with flibustiers; but in the night of the th of february, she ran aground among some small islands and rocks, near the north side of the island _porto rico_. the people got safe to land, but were made close prisoners by the spaniards. after some months imprisonment, m. d'ogeron, with three others, made their escape in a canoe, and got back to _tortuga_. the governor general over the french west-india islands at that time, was a m. de baas, who sent to _porto rico_ to demand the deliverance of the french detained there prisoners. the spanish governor of _porto rico_ required pieces of eight to be paid for expences incurred. de baas was unwilling to comply with the demand, and sent an agent to negociate for an abatement in the sum; but they came to no agreement. m. d'ogeron in the mean time collected five hundred men in _tortuga_ and _hispaniola_, with whom he embarked in a number of small vessels to pass over to _porto rico_, to endeavour the release of his shipwrecked companions; but by repeated tempests, several of his flotilla were forced back, and he reached _porto rico_ with only three hundred men. [sidenote: and put to death by the spaniards.] on their landing, the spanish governor put to death all his french prisoners, except seventeen of the officers. afterwards in an engagement with the spaniards, d'ogeron lost seventeen men, and found his strength not sufficient to force the spaniards to terms; upon which he withdrew from _porto rico_, and returned to _tortuga_. the seventeen french officers that were spared in the massacre of the prisoners, the governor of _porto rico_ put on board a vessel bound for the _tierra firma_, with the intention of transporting them to _peru_; but from that fate they were delivered by meeting at sea with an english buccaneer cruiser. thus, by the french governor general disputing about a trifling balance, three hundred of the french buccaneers, whilst employed for the french king's service under one of his officers, were sacrificed. chap. vii. _=thomas peche=. attempt of =la sound= to cross the =isthmus of america=. voyage of =antonio de vea= to the =strait of magalhanes=. various adventures of the buccaneers, in the =west indies=, to the year ._ [sidenote: . thomas peche.] in , thomas peche, an englishman, fitted out a ship in _england_ for a piratical voyage to the _south sea_ against the spaniards. previous to this, peche had been many years a buccaneer in the _west indies_, and therefore his voyage to the _south sea_ is mentioned as a buccaneer expedition; but it was in no manner connected with any enterprise in or from the _west indies_. the only information we have of peche's voyage is from a spanish author, _seixas y lovera_; and by that it may be conjectured that peche sailed to the _aleutian isles_.[ ] [sidenote: .] about this time the french west-india company was suppressed; but another company was at the same time erected in its stead, and under the unpromising title of _compagnie des fermiers du domaine d'occident_. [sidenote: la sound attempts to cross the isthmus.] since the plundering of _panama_, the imaginations of the buccaneers had been continually running on expeditions to the _south sea_. this was well known to the spaniards, and produced many forebodings and prophecies, in _spain_ as well as in _peru_, of great invasions both by sea and land. the alarm was increased by an attempt of a french buccaneer, named la sound, with a small body of men, to cross over land to the _south sea_. la sound got no farther than the town of _cheapo_, and was driven back. dampier relates, 'before my going to the _south seas_, i being then on board a privateer off _portobel_, we took a packet from _carthagena_. we opened a great many of the merchants' letters, several of which informed their correspondents of a certain prophecy that went about _spain_ that year, the tenor of which was, _that the english privateers in the west indies would that year open a door into the south seas_.' [sidenote: voyage of ant. de vea to the strait of magalhanes.] in , it was reported and believed in _peru_, that strange ships, supposed to be pirates, had been seen on the coast of _chili_, and it was apprehended that they designed to form an establishment there. in consequence of this information or rumour, the viceroy sent a ship from _peru_, under the command of don antonio de vea, accompanied with small barks as tenders, to reconnoitre the _gulf de la santissima trinidada_, and to proceed thence to the west entrance of the _strait of magalhanes_. de vea made examination at those places, and was convinced, from the poverty of the land, that no settlement of europeans could be maintained there. one of the spanish barks, with a crew of sixteen men, was wrecked on the small islands called _evangelists_, at the west entrance of the _strait_. de vea returned to _callao_ in april [ ]. [sidenote: .] the cattle in _hispaniola_ had again multiplied so much as to revive the business of hunting and the _boucan_. in , some french who had habitations in the _peninsula of samana_ (the ne part of _hispaniola_) made incursions on the spaniards, and plundered one of their villages. not long afterwards, the spaniards learnt that in _samana_ there were only women and children, the men being all absent on the chace; and that it would be easy to surprise not only the habitations, but the hunters also, who had a boucan at a place called the _round mountain_. [sidenote: massacre of the french in samana.] this the spaniards executed, and with such full indulgence to their wish to extirpate the french in _hispaniola_, that they put to the sword every one they found at both the places. the french, in consequence of this misfortune, strengthened their fortifications at _cape françois_, and made it their principal establishment in the island. [sidenote: . french fleet wrecked on the isles de aves.] in , the french again undertook an expedition against the dutch island _curaçao_, with a large fleet of the french king's ships, under the command of admiral the count d'etrées. the french court were so earnest for the conquest of _curaçao_, to wipe off the disgrace of the former failure, that the governor of _tortuga_ was ordered to raise men to join the admiral d'etrées. the king's troops within his government did not exceed men; nevertheless, the governor collected the number required, the flibustiers willingly engaging in the expedition. part of them embarked on board the king's ships, and part in their own cruising vessels. by mistake in the navigation, d'etrées ran ashore in the middle of the night on some small isles to the east of _curaçao_, called _de aves_, which are surrounded with breakers, and eighteen of his ships, besides some of the flibustier vessels, were wrecked. the crews were saved, excepting about men. the _curaçao_ expedition being thus terminated, the flibustiers who had engaged in it, after saving as much as they could of the wrecks, went on expeditions of their own planning, to seek compensation for their disappointment and loss. [sidenote: granmont.] some landed on _cuba_, and pillaged _puerto del principe_. one party, under granmont, a leader noted for the success of his enterprises, went to the gulf of _venezuela_, and the ill-fated towns _maracaibo_ and _gibraltar_ were again plundered; but what the buccaneers obtained was not of much value. in august this year, _france_ concluded a treaty of peace with _spain_ and _holland_. the government in _jamaica_ had by this time relapsed to its former propensities, and again encouraged the buccaneers, and shared in their gains. one crew of buccaneers carried there a vessel taken from the spaniards, the cargo of which produced for each man's share to the value of _l._ after disposing of the cargo, they burnt the vessel; and 'having paid the governor his duties, they embarked for _england_, where,' added the author, 'some of them live in good reputation to this day[ ].' as long as the war had lasted between _france_ and _spain_, the french buccaneers had the advantage of being lawful privateers. an english buccaneer relates, 'we met a french private ship of war, mounting eight guns, who kept in our company some days. her commission was only for three months. we shewed him our commission, which was for three years to come. this we had purchased at a cheap rate, having given for it only ten pieces of eight; but the truth of the thing was, that our commission was made out at first only for three months, the same date as the frenchman's, whereas among ourselves we contrived to make it that it should serve for three years, for with this we were resolved to seek our fortunes.' whenever _spain_ was at war with another european power, adventurers of any country found no difficulty in the _west indies_ in procuring commissions to war against the spaniards; with which commission, and carrying aloft the flag of the nation hostile to _spain_, they assumed that they were lawful enemies. such pretensions did them small service if they fell into the hands of the spaniards; but they were allowed in the ports of neutral nations, which benefited by being made the mart of the buccaneer prize goods; and the buccaneers thought themselves well recompensed in having a ready market, and the security of the port. [sidenote: . darien indians.] the enterprises of the buccaneers on the _tierra firma_ and other parts of the american continent, brought them into frequent intercourse with the natives of those parts, and produced friendships, and sometimes alliances against the spaniards, with whom each were alike at constant enmity. but there sometimes happened disagreements between them and the natives. the buccaneers, if they wanted provisions or assistance from the indians, had no objection to pay for it when they had the means; nor had the natives objection to supply them on that condition, and occasionally out of pure good will. the buccaneers nevertheless, did not always refrain from helping themselves, with no other leave than their own. sometime before morgan's expedition to _panama_, they had given the indians of _darien_ much offence; but shortly after that expedition, they were reconciled, in consequence of which, the darien indians had assisted la sound. in , they gave assistance to another party of flibustiers which went against _cheapo_, under a french captain named bournano, and offered to conduct them to a place called _tocamoro_, where they said the spaniards had much gold. bournano did not think his force sufficient to take advantage of their offer, but promised he would come again and be better provided. [sidenote: . porto bello surprised by the buccaneers.] in , three buccaneer vessels (two of them english, and one french) joined in an attempt to plunder _porto bello_. they landed men at such a distance from the town, that it occupied them three nights in travelling, for during the day they lay concealed in the woods, before they reached it. just as they came to the town, they were discovered by a negro, who ran before to give intelligence of their coming; but the buccaneers were so quickly after him, that they got possession of the town before the inhabitants could take any step for their defence, and, being unacquainted with the strength of the enemy, they all fled. the buccaneers remained in the town collecting plunder two days and two nights, all the time in apprehension that the spaniards would; 'pour in the country' upon their small force, or intercept their retreat. they got back however to their ships unmolested, and, on a division of the booty, shared pieces of eight to each man. chap. viii. _meeting of buccaneers at the =samballas=, and =golden island=. party formed by the english buccaneers to cross the =isthmus=. some account of the native inhabitants of the =mosquito shore=._ immediately after the plundering of _porto bello_, a number of buccaneer vessels, both english and french, on the report which had been made by captain bournano, assembled at the _samballas_, or _isles of san blas_, near the coast of _darien_. one of these vessels was commanded by bournano. the indians of _darien_ received them as friends and allies, but they now disapproved the project of going to _tocamoro_. the way thither, they said, was mountainous, and through a long tract of uninhabited country, in which it would be difficult to find subsistence; and instead of _tocamoro_, they advised going against the city of _panama_. [sidenote: . golden island.] their representation caused the design upon _tocamoro_ to be given up. the english buccaneers were for attacking _panama_; but the french objected to the length of the march; and on this difference, the english and french separated, the english buccaneers going to an island called by them _golden island_, which is the most eastern of the _samballas_, if not more properly to be said to the eastward of all the _samballas_. without the assistance of the french, _panama_ was too great an undertaking. they were bent, however, on crossing the _isthmus_; and at the recommendation of their darien friends, they determined to visit a spanish town named _santa maria_, situated on the banks of a river that ran into the _south sea_. the spaniards kept a good garrison at _santa maria_, on account of gold which was collected from mountains in its neighbourhood. the buccaneers who engaged in this expedition were the crews of seven vessels, of force as in the following list: guns men a vessel of and commanded by john coxon. -- - ---- peter harris. -- - ---- richard sawkins. -- - ---- bart. sharp. -- - ---- edmond cook. -- - ---- robert alleston. -- - ---- ---- macket. it was settled that alleston and macket, with men, themselves included, should be left to guard the vessels during the absence of those who went on the expedition, which was not expected to be of long continuance. these matters were arranged at _golden island_, and agreement made with the darien indians to furnish them with subsistence during the march. william dampier, a seaman at that time of no celebrity, but of good observation and experience, was among these buccaneers, and of the party to cross the _isthmus_; as was lionel wafer, since well known for his _description of the isthmus of darien_, who had engaged with them as surgeon. [sidenote: account of the mosquito indians.] in this party of buccaneers were also some native americans, of a small tribe called mosquito indians, who inhabited the sea coast on each side of _cape gracias a dios_, one way towards the river _san juan de nicaragua_, the other towards the _gulf of honduras_, which is called the _mosquito shore_. if europeans had any plea in justification of their hostility against the spaniards in the _west indies_, much more had the native americans. the mosquito indians, moreover, had long been, and were at the time of these occurrences, in an extraordinary degree attached to the english, insomuch that voluntarily of their own choice they acknowledged the king of _great britain_ for their sovereign. they were an extremely ingenious people, and were greatly esteemed by the european seamen in the _west indies_, on account of their great expertness in the use of the harpoon, and in taking turtle. the following character of them is given by dampier: 'these mosquito indians,' he says; 'are tall, well made, strong, and nimble of foot; long visaged, lank black hair, look stern, and are of a dark copper complexion. they are but a small nation or family. they are very ingenious in throwing the lance, or harpoon. they have extraordinary good eyes, and will descry a sail at sea, farther than we. for these things, they are esteemed and coveted by all privateers; for one or two of them in a ship, will sometimes maintain a hundred men. when they come among privateers, they learn the use of guns, and prove very good marksmen. they behave themselves bold in fight, and are never seen to flinch, or hang back; for they think that the white men with whom they are, always know better than they do, when it is best to fight; and be the disadvantage never so great, they do not give back while any of their party stand. these mosquito men are in general very kind to the english, of whom they receive a great deal of respect, both on board their ships, and on shore, either in _jamaica_, or elsewhere. we always humour them, letting them go any where as they will, and return to their country in any vessel bound that way, if they please. they will have the management of themselves in their striking fish, and will go in their own little canoe, nor will they then let any white man come in their canoe; all which we allow them. for should we cross them, though they should see shoals of fish, or turtle, or the like, they will purposely strike their harpoons and turtle-irons aside, or so glance them as to kill nothing. they acknowledge the king of england for their sovereign, learn our language, and take the governor of _jamaica_ to be one of the greatest princes in the world. while they are among the english, they wear good cloaths, and take delight to go neat and tight; but when they return to their own country, they put by all their cloaths, and go after their own country fashion.' in dampier's time, it was the custom among the mosquito indians, when their chief died, for his successor to obtain a commission, appointing him chief, from the governor of _jamaica_; and till he received his commission he was not acknowledged in form by his countrymen[ ]. how would dampier have been grieved, if he could have foreseen that this simple and honest people, whilst their attachment to the english had suffered no diminution, would be delivered by the british government into the hands of the spaniards; which, from all experience of what had happened, was delivering them to certain destruction. before this unhappy transaction took place, and after the time dampier wrote, the british government took actual possession of the mosquito country, by erecting a fort, and stationing there a garrison of british troops. british merchants settled among the mosquito natives, and magistrates were appointed with authority to administer justice. mosquito men were taken into british pay to serve as soldiers, of which the following story is related in long's history of _jamaica_; 'in the year , the government of _jamaica_ took into their pay two hundred mosquito indians, to assist in the suppression of the maroons or wild negroes. during a march on this service, one of their white conductors shot a wild hog. the mosquito men told him, that was not the way to surprise the negroes, but to put them on their guard; and if he wanted provisions, they would kill the game equally well with their arrows. they effected considerable service on this occasion, and were well rewarded for their good conduct; and when a pacification took place with the maroons, they were sent well satisfied to their own country.' in the year , there resided in the _mosquito country_ of british settlers, between two and three hundred whites, as many of mixed blood, and slaves. on the breaking out of the war between _great britain_ and _spain_, in , when the spaniards drove the british logwood cutters from their settlements in the _bay of honduras_, the mosquito men armed and assisted the british troops of the line in the recovery of the logwood settlements. they behaved on that occasion, and on others in which they served against the spaniards, with their accustomed fidelity. an english officer, who was in the _west indies_ during that war, has given a description of the mosquito men, which exactly agrees with what dampier has said; and all that is related of them whilst with the buccaneers, gives the most favourable impression of their dispositions and character. it was natural to the spaniards to be eagerly desirous to get the mosquito country and people into their power; but it was not natural that such a proposition should be listened to by the british. nevertheless, the matter did so happen. when notice was received in the _west indies_, that a negociation was on foot for the delivery of the _mosquito shore_ to _spain_, the council at _jamaica_ drew up a report and remonstrance against it; in which was stated, that 'the number of the mosquito indians, so justly remarkable for their fixed hereditary hatred to the spaniards, and attachment to us, were from seven to ten thousand.' afterwards, in continuation, the memorial says, 'we beg leave to state the nature of his majesty's territorial right, perceiving with alarm, from papers submitted to our inspection, that endeavours have been made to create doubts as to his majesty's just claims to the sovereignty of this valuable and delightful country. the native indians of this country have never submitted to the spanish government. the spaniards never had any settlement amongst them. during the course of years they have maintained a strict and uninterrupted alliance with the subjects of _great britain_. they made a free and formal cession of the dominion of their country to his majesty's predecessors, acknowledging the king of _great britain_ for their sovereign, long before the american treaty concluded at _madrid_ in ; and consequently, by the eighth article of that treaty, our right was declared[ ].' in one memorial and remonstrance which was presented to the british ministry on the final ratification (in ) of the treaty, it is complained, that thereby his majesty had given up to the king of _spain_ 'the indian people, and country of the _mosquito shore_, which formed the most secure west-indian province possessed by _great britain_, and which we held by the most pure and perfect title of sovereignty.' much of this is digression; but the subject unavoidably came into notice, and could not be hastily quitted. some mercantile arrangement, said to be advantageous to _great britain_, but which has been disputed, was the publicly assigned motive to this act. it has been conjectured that a desire to shew civility to the prime minister of _spain_ was the real motive. only blindness or want of information could give either of these considerations such fatal influence. the making over, or transferring, inhabited territory from the dominion and jurisdiction of one state to that of another, has been practised not always with regard for propriety. it has been done sometimes unavoidably, sometimes justly, and sometimes inexecusably. unavoidably, when a weaker state is necessitated to submit to the exactions of a stronger. justly, when the inhabitants of the territory it is proposed to transfer, are consulted, and give their consent. also it may be reckoned just to exercise the power of transferring a conquered territory, the inhabitants of which have not been received and adopted as fellow subjects with the subjects of the state under whose power it had fallen. the inhabitants of a territory who with their lands are transferred to the dominion of a new state without their inclinations being consulted, are placed in the condition of a conquered people. the connexion of the mosquito people with _great britain_ was formed in friendship, and was on each side a voluntary engagement. that it was an engagement, should be no question. in equity and honour, whoever permits it to be believed that he has entered into an engagement, thereby becomes engaged. the mosquito people were known to believe, and had been allowed to continue in the belief, that they were permanently united to the british. the governors of _jamaica_ giving commissions for the instalment of their chief, the building a fort, and placing a garrison in the country, shew both acceptance of their submission and exercise of sovereignty. vattel has described this case. he says, 'when a nation has not sufficient strength of itself, and is not in a condition to resist its enemies, it may lawfully submit to a more powerful nation on certain conditions upon which they shall come to an agreement; and the pact or treaty of submission will be afterwards the measure and rule of the rights of each. for that which submits, resigning a right it possessed, and conveying it to another, has an absolute power to make this conveyance upon what conditions it pleases; and the other, by accepting the submission on this footing, engages to observe religiously all the clauses in the treaty. when a nation has placed itself under the protection of another that is more powerful, or has submitted to it with a view of protection; if this last does not effectually grant its protection when wanted, it is manifest that by failing in its engagements it loses the rights it had acquired.' the rights lost or relinquished by _great britain_ might possibly be of small import to her; but the loss of our protection was of infinite consequence to the mosquito people. advantages supposed or real gained to _great britain_, is not to be pleaded in excuse or palliation for withdrawing her protection; for that would seem to imply that an engagement is more or less binding according to the greater or less interest there may be in observing it. but if there had been no engagement, the length and steadiness of their attachment to _great britain_ would have entitled them to her protection, and the nature of the case rendered the obligation sacred; for be it repeated, that experience had shewn the delivering them up to the dominion of the spaniards, was delivering them to certain slavery and death. these considerations possibly might not occur, for there seems to have been a want of information on the subject in the british ministry, and also a want of attention to the remonstrances made. the mosquito country, and the native inhabitants, the best affected and most constant of all the friends the british ever had, were abandoned in the summer of , to the spaniards, the known exterminators of millions of the native americans, and who were moreover incensed against the mosquito men, for the part they had always taken with the british, by whom they were thus forsaken. the british settlers in that country found it necessary, to withdraw as speedily as they had opportunity, with their effects. if the business had been fully understood, and the safety of _great britain_ had depended upon abandoning the mosquito people to their merciless enemies, it would have been thought disgraceful by the nation to have done it; but the national interest being trivial, and the public in general being uninformed in the matter, the transaction took place without attracting much notice. a motion, however, was made in the british house of lords, 'that the terms of the convention with _spain_, signed in july , did not meet the favourable opinion of this house;' and the noble mover objected to that part of the convention which related to the surrender of the british possessions on the _mosquito shore_, that it was a humiliation, and derogating from the rights of _great britain_. the first article of the treaty of says, 'his britannic majesty's subjects, and the other colonists, who have hitherto enjoyed the protection of _england_, shall evacuate the country of the mosquitos, as well as the continent in general, and the islands adjacent, without exception, situated beyond the line hereafter described, as what ought to be the extent of territory granted by his catholic majesty to the english.' in the debate, rights were asserted for _spain_, not only to what she then possessed on the continent of _america_, but to parts she had never possessed. was this want of information, or want of consideration? the word 'granted' was improperly introduced. in truth and justice, the claims of _spain_ to _america_ are not to be acknowledged rights. they were founded in usurpation, and prosecuted by the extermination of the lawful and natural proprietors. it is an offence to morality and to humanity to pretend that _spain_ had so clear and just a title to any part of her possessions on the continent of _america_, as _great britain_ had to the _mosquito_ country. the rights of the mosquito people, and their claims to the friendship of _great britain_, were not sufficiently made known; and the motion was negatived. it might have been of service in this debate to have quoted dampier. in conclusion, the case of the mosquito people deserves, and demands the reconsideration of _great britain_. if, on examination, it shall be proved that they have been ungenerously and unjustly treated, it may not be too late to seek to make reparation, which ought to be done as far as circumstances will yet admit. the first step towards this would be, to institute enquiry if there are living any of our forsaken friends, or of their posterity, and what is their present condition. if the mosquito people have been humanely and justly governed since their separation from _great britain_, the enquiry will give the spaniards cause for triumph, and the british cause to rejoice that evil has not resulted from their act. on the other hand, should it be found that they have shared in the common calamities heaped upon the natives of _america_ by the spaniards, then, if there yet exist enough of their tribe to form a nation, it would be right to restore them, if practicable, to the country and situation of which their fathers were deprived, or to find them an equivalent; and at any price or pains, to deliver them from oppression. if only few remain, those few should be freed from their bondage, and be liberally provided with lands and maintenance in our own _west-india islands_. chap. ix. _journey of the buccaneers across the =isthmus of america=._ [sidenote: . april th, buccaneers land on the isthmus.] on the th of april, , three hundred and thirty-one buccaneers, most of them english, passed over from _golden island_, and landed in _darien_, 'each man provided with four cakes of bread called dough-boys, with a fusil, a pistol, and a hanger.' they began their journey marshalled in divisions, with distinguishing flags, under their several commanders, bartholomew sharp and his men taking the lead. many darien indians kept them company as their confederates, and supplied them with plantains, fruit, and venison, for which payment was made in axes, hatchets, knives, needles, beads, and trinkets; all which the buccaneers had taken care to come well provided with. among the darien indians in company were two chiefs, who went by the names of captain andreas and captain antonio. [sidenote: the first day's march.] the commencement of their march was through the skirt of a wood, which having passed, they proceeded about a league by the side of a bay, and afterwards about two leagues directly up a woody valley, where was an indian house and plantation by the side of a river. here they took up their lodging for the night, those who could not be received in the house, building huts. the indians were earnest in cautioning them against sleeping in the grass, on account of adders. this first day's journey discouraged four of the buccaneers, and they returned to the ships. stones were found in the river, which on being broken, shone with sparks of gold. these stones, they were told, were driven down from the neighbouring mountains by torrents during the rainy season[ ]. [sidenote: second day's journey.] the next morning, at sunrise, they proceeded in their journey, labouring up a steep hill, which they surmounted about three in the afternoon; and at the foot on the other side, they rested on the bank of a river, which captain andreas told them ran into the _south sea_, and was the same by which the town of _santa maria_ was situated. they marched afterwards about six miles farther, over another steep hill, where the path was so narrow that seldom more than one man could pass at a time. at night, they took up their lodging by the side of the river, having marched this day, according to their computation, eighteen miles. [sidenote: th. third day's journey.] the next day, april the th, the march was continued by the river, the course of which was so serpentine, that they had to cross it almost at every half mile, sometimes up to their knees, sometimes to their middle, and running with a very swift current. about noon they arrived at some large indian houses, neatly built, the sides of wood of the cabbage-tree, and the roofs of cane thatched over with palmito leaves. the interior had divisions into rooms, but no upper story; and before each house was a large plantain walk. continuing their journey, at five in the afternoon, they came to a house belonging to a son of captain andreas, who wore a wreath of gold about his head, for which he was honoured by the buccaneers with the title of king golden cap. [sidenote: th.] they found their entertainment at king golden cap's house so good, that they rested there the whole of the following day. bartholomew sharp, who published a journal of his expedition, says here, 'the inhabitants of _darien_ are for the most part very handsome, especially the female sex, who are also exceeding loving and free to the embraces of strangers.' this was calumny. basil ringrose, another buccaneer, whose journal has been published, and who is more entitled to credit than sharp, as will be seen, says of the darien women, 'they are generally well featured, very free, airy, and brisk; yet withal very modest.' lionel wafer also, who lived many months among the indians of the _isthmus_, speaks highly of the modesty, kindness of disposition, and innocency, of the darien women. [sidenote: th. fourth day's journey.] on the th, after breakfast, they pursued their journey, accompanied by the darien chiefs, and about indians, who were armed with bows and lances. they descended along the river, which they had to wade through between fifty and sixty times, and they came to a house 'only here and there.' at most of these houses, the owner, who had been apprised of the march of the buccaneers, stood at the door, and as they passed, gave to each man a ripe plantain, or some sweet cassava root. if the buccaneer desired more, he was expected to purchase. some of the indians, to count the number of the buccaneers, for every man that went by dropped a grain of corn. that night they lodged at three large houses, where they found entertainment provided, and also canoes for them to descend the river, which began here to be navigable. [sidenote: th. fifth day's journey.] the next morning, as they were preparing to depart, two of the buccaneer commanders, john coxon and peter harris, had some disagreement, and coxon fired his musket at harris, who was about to fire in return, but other buccaneers interposed, and effected a reconciliation. seventy of the buccaneers embarked in fourteen canoes, in each of which two indians also went, who best knew how to manage and guide them down the stream: the rest prosecuted their march by land. the men in the canoes found that mode of travelling quite as wearisome as marching, for at almost every furlong they were constrained to quit their boats to lanch them over rocks, or over trees that had fallen athwart the river, and sometimes over necks of land. at night, they stopped and made themselves huts on a green bank by the river's side. here they shot wild-fowl. [sidenote: th. sixth day's journey.] the next day, the canoes continued to descend the river, having the same kind of impediments to overcome as on the preceding day; and at night, they lodged again on the green bank of the river. the land party had not kept up with them. bartholomew sharp says, 'our supper entertainment was a very good sort of a wild beast called a _warre_, which is much like to our english hog, and altogether as good. there are store of them in this part of the world: i observed that the navels of these animals grew upon their backs.' wafer calls this species of the wild hog, _pecary_[ ]. in the night a small tiger came, and after looking at them some time, went away. the buccaneers did not fire at him, lest the noise of their muskets should give alarm to the spaniards at _s^{ta} maria_. [sidenote: th. seventh day's journey.] the next day, the water party again embarked, but under some anxiety at being so long without having any communication with the party marching by land. captain andreas perceiving their uneasiness, sent a canoe back up the river, which returned before sunset with some of the land party, and intelligence that the rest were near at hand. [sidenote: th.] tuesday the th, early in the day, the buccaneers arrived at a beachy point of land, where another stream from the uplands joined the river. this place had sometimes been the rendezvous of the darien indians, when they collected for attack or defence against the spaniards; and here the whole party now made a halt, to rest themselves, and to clean and prepare their arms. they also made paddles and oars to row with; for thus far down the river, the canoes had been carried by the stream, and guided with poles: but here the river was broad and deep. [sidenote: th.] on the th, the whole party, buccaneers and indians, making nearly men, embarked in canoes, which the indians had provided. at midnight, they put to land, within half a mile of the town of _s^{ta} maria_. [sidenote: th.] in the morning at the break of day, they heard muskets fired by the guard in the town, and a 'drum beating _à travailler_[ ].' [sidenote: fort of s^{ta} maria taken.] the buccaneers put themselves in motion, and by seven in the morning came to the open ground before the fort, when the spaniards began firing upon them. the fort was formed simply with palisadoes, without brickwork, so that after pulling down two or three of the palisadoes, the buccaneers entered without farther opposition, and without the loss of a man; nevertheless, they acted with so little moderation or mercy, that twenty-six spaniards were killed, and sixteen wounded. after the surrender, the indians took many of the spaniards into the adjoining woods, where they killed them with lances; and if they had not been discovered in their amusement, and prevented, not a spaniard would have been left alive. it is said in a buccaneer account, that they found here the eldest daughter of the king of _darien_, captain andreas, who had been forced from her father's house by one of the garrison, and was with child by him; which greatly incensed the father against the spaniards. the buccaneers were much disappointed in their expectations of plunder, for the spaniards had by some means received notice of their intended visit in time to send away almost all that was of value. a buccaneer says, 'though we examined our prisoners severely, the whole that we could pillage, either in the town or fort, amounted only to twenty pounds weight of gold, and a small quantity of silver; whereas three days sooner, we should have found three hundred pounds weight in gold in the fort.' [sidenote: john coxon chosen commander.] the majority of the buccaneers were desirous to proceed in their canoes to the _south sea_, to seek compensation for their disappointment at _s^{ta} maria_. john coxon and his followers were for returning; on which account, and not from an opinion of his capability, those who were for the _south sea_, offered coxon the post of general, provided he and his men would join in their scheme, which offer was accepted. it was then determined to descend with the stream of the river to the _gulf de san miguel_, which is on the east side of the _bay of panama_. the greater part of the darien indians, however, separated from them at _s^{ta} maria_, and returned to their homes. the darien chief andreas, and his son golden cap, with some followers, continued with the buccaneers. among the people of _darien_ were remarked some white, 'fairer than any people in europe, who had hair like unto the finest flax; and it was reported of them that they could see farther in the dark than in the light[ ].' the river of _s^{ta} maria_ is the largest of several rivers which fall into the _gulf de san miguel_. abreast where the town stood, it was reckoned to be twice as broad as the _river thames_ is at _london_. the rise and fall of the tide there was two fathoms and a half[ ]. [sidenote: april th.] april the th, the buccaneers and their remaining allies embarked from _s^{ta} maria_, in canoes and a small bark which was found at anchor before the town. about thirty spaniards who had been made prisoners, earnestly entreated that they should not be left behind to fall into the hands of the indians. 'we had much ado,' say the buccaneers, 'to find boats enough for ourselves: the spaniards, however, found or made bark logs, and it being for their lives, made shift to come along with us.' [sidenote: th, they arrive at the south sea.] at ten that night it was low water, and they stopped on account of the flood tide. the next morning they pursued their course to the sea. chap. x. _first buccaneer expedition in the =south sea=._ [sidenote: . april th. in the bay of panama. d. island chepillo.] on the th of april, the buccaneers, under the command of john coxon, entered the _bay of panama_; and the same day, at one of the islands in the _bay_, they captured a spanish vessel of tons, on board of which of the buccaneers immediately placed themselves, glad to be relieved from the cramped and crowded state they had endured in the canoes. the next day another small bark was taken. the pursuit of these vessels, and seeking among the islands for provisions, had separated the buccaneers; but they had agreed to rendezvous at the island _chepillo_, near the entrance of the river _cheapo_. sharp, however, and some others, wanting fresh water, went to the _pearl islands_. the rest got to _chepillo_ on the d, where they found good provision of plantains, fresh water, and hogs; and at four o'clock that same afternoon, they rowed from the island towards _panama_. by this time, intelligence of their being in the _bay_ had reached the city. eight vessels were lying in the road, three of which the spaniards hastily equipped, manning them with the crews of all the vessels, and the addition of men from the shore; the whole, according to the buccaneer accounts, not exceeding men, and not more than one-third of them being europeans; the rest were mulattoes and negroes. [sidenote: d. battle with a small spanish armament. the buccaneers victorious.] on the d, before sunrise, the buccaneers came in sight of the city; and as soon as they were descried, the three armed spanish ships got under sail, and stood towards them. the conflict was severe, and lasted the greater part of the day, when it terminated in the defeat of the spaniards, two of their vessels being carried by boarding, and the third obliged to save herself by flight. the spanish commander fell, with many of his people. of the buccaneers, were killed, and above wounded. peter harris, one of their captains, was among the wounded, and died two days after. one buccaneer account says, 'we were in all men that were engaged in the fight of that day.' another buccaneer relates, 'we had sent away the spanish bark to seek fresh water, and had put on board her above one hundred of our best men; so that we had only canoes for this fight, and in them not above fighting men.' the spanish ships fought with great bravery, but were overmatched, being manned with motley and untaught crews; whereas the buccaneers had been in constant training to the use of their arms; and their being in canoes was no great disadvantage, as they had a smooth sea to fight in. [sidenote: richard sawkins.] the valour of richard sawkins, who, after being three times repulsed, succeeded in boarding and capturing one of the spanish ships, was principally instrumental in gaining the victory to the buccaneers. it gained him also their confidence, and the more fully as some among them were thought to have shewn backwardness, of which number john coxon, their elected commander, appears to have been. the darien chiefs were in the heat of the battle. [sidenote: the new city of panama, four miles westward of the old city. the buccaneers take several prizes.] immediately after the victory, the buccaneers stood towards _panama_, then a new city, and on a different site from the old, being four miles westward of the ruins of the city burnt by morgan. the old city had yet some inhabitants. the present adventurers did not judge their strength sufficient for landing, and they contented themselves with capturing the vessels that were at anchor near the small islands of _perico_, in the road before the city. one of these vessels was a ship named the trinidad, of tons burthen, in good condition, a fast sailer, and had on board a cargo principally consisting of wine, sugar, and sweetmeats; and moreover a considerable sum of money. the spanish crew, before they left her, had both scuttled and set her on fire, but the buccaneers took possession in time to extinguish the flames, and to stop the leaks. in the other prizes they found flour and ammunition; and two of them, besides the trinidad, they fitted up for cruising. two prize vessels, and a quantity of goods which were of no use to them, as iron, skins, and soap, which the spaniards at _panama_ refused to ransom, they destroyed. besides these, they captured among the islands some small vessels laden with poultry. thus in less than a week after their arrival across the _isthmus_ to the coast of the _south sea_, they were provided with a small fleet, not ill equipped; and with which they now formed an actual and close blockade by sea, of _panama_, stationing themselves at anchor in front of the city. [sidenote: panama, the new city.] this new city was already considerably larger than old _panama_ had ever been, its extent being in length full a mile and a half, and in breadth above a mile. the churches (eight in number) were not yet finished. the cathedral church at the old town was still in use, 'the beautiful building whereof,' says ringrose, 'maketh a fair show at a distance, like unto the church of st. paul's at _london_. round the city for the space of seven leagues, more or less, all the adjacent country is what they call in the spanish language, _savana_, that is to say, plain and level ground, as smooth as a sheet; only here and there is to be seen a small spot of woody land. and every where, this level ground is full of _vacadas_, where whole droves of cows and oxen are kept. but the ground whereon the city standeth, is damp and moist, and of bad repute for health. the sea is also very full of worms, much prejudicial to shipping, for which reason the king's ships are always kept near _lima_. we found here in one night after our arrival, worms of three quarters of an inch in length, both in our bed-cloaths and other apparel.' [sidenote: coxon and his men return to the west indies.] within two or three days after the battle with the spanish armadilla, discord broke out among the buccaneers. the reflections made upon the behaviour of coxon and some of his followers, determined him and seventy men to return by the river of _s^{ta} maria_ over the _isthmus_ to the _north sea_. two of the small prize vessels were given them for this purpose, and at the same time, the darien chiefs, captain andreas and captain antonio, with most of their people, departed to return to their homes. andreas shewed his goodwill towards the buccaneers who remained in the _south sea_, by leaving with them a son and one of his nephews. [sidenote: richard sawkins chosen commander.] on the departure of coxon, richard sawkins was chosen general or chief commander. they continued ten days in the road before _panama_, at the end of which they retired to an island named _taboga_, more distant, but whence they could see vessels going to, or coming from, _panama_. at _taboga_ they stopped nearly a fortnight, having had notice that a rich ship from _lima_ was shortly expected; but she came not within that time. some other vessels however fell into their hands, by which they obtained in specie between fifty and sixty thousand dollars, packs of flour, jars of wine, a quantity of brandy, sugar, sweetmeats, poultry, and other provisions, some gunpowder and shot, besides various other articles of merchandise. among their prisoners, were a number of negro slaves, which was a temptation to the merchants of _panama_, to go to the ships whilst they lay at _taboga_, who purchased part of the prize goods, and as many of the negroes as the buccaneers would part with, giving for a negro two hundred pieces of eight; and they also sold to the buccaneers such stores and commodities as they were in need of. [sidenote: may.] ringrose relates, that in the course of this communication, a message was delivered to their chief from the governor of _panama_, demanding, "why, during a time of peace between _england_ and _spain_, englishmen should come into those seas, to commit injury? and from whom they had their commission so to do?" to which message, sawkins returned answer, 'that he and his companions came to assist their friend the king of _darien_, who was the rightful lord of _panama_, and all the country thereabouts. that as they had come so far, it was reasonable they should receive some satisfaction for their trouble; and if the governor would send to them pieces of eight for each man, and for each commander, and would promise not any farther to annoy the darien indians, their allies, that then the buccaneers would desist from hostilities, and go quietly about their business.' by the spaniards who traded with them, sawkins learnt that the bishop of _panama_ was a person whom he had formerly taken prisoner in the _west indies_, and sent him a small present as a token of regard; the bishop sent a gold ring in return. [sidenote: island taboga.] sawkins would have waited longer for the rich ship expected from _peru_; but all the live stock within reach had been consumed, and his men became impatient for fresh provisions. 'this _taboga_,' says sharp, 'is an exceeding pleasant island, abounding in fruits, such as pine-apples, oranges, lemons, pears, mammees, cocoa-nuts, and others; with a small, but brave commodious fresh river running in it. the anchorage is also clear and good.' [sidenote: th. island otoque.] on the th of may, they sailed to the island _otoque_, at which place they found hogs and poultry; and, the same day, or the day following, they departed with three ships and two small barks, from the bay of _panama_, steering westward for a spanish town named _pueblo nuevo_. in this short distance they had much blowing weather and contrary winds, by which both the small barks, one with fifteen men, the other with seven men, were separated from the ships, and did not join them again. the crew of one of these barks returned over the _isthmus_ with coxon's party. the other bark was taken by the spaniards. [sidenote: at quibo.] about the st, the ships anchored near the _island quibo_; from the north part of which, to the town of _pueblo nuevo_ on the main land, was reckoned eight leagues. [sidenote: attack of pueblo nuevo.] sawkins, with sixty men, embarked on board the smallest ship, and sailed to the entrance of a river which leads to the town. he there left the ship with a few men to follow him, and proceeded with the rest in canoes up the river by night, having a negro prisoner for pilot. those left with the care of the ship, 'entered the river, keeping close by the east shore, on which there is a round hill. within two stones cast of the shore there was four fathoms depth; and within the point a very fine and large river opens. but being strangers to the place, the ship was run aground nigh a rock which lieth by the westward shore; for the true channel of this river is nearer to the east than to the west shore. the island _quibo_ is sse from the mouth of this river[ ].' [sidenote: captain sawkins is killed, and the buccaneers retreat.] the canoes met with much obstruction from trees which the spaniards had felled across the river; but they arrived before the town during the night. the spaniards had erected some works, on which account the buccaneers waited in their canoes till daylight, and then landed; when richard sawkins, advancing with the foremost of his men towards a breastwork, was killed, as were two of his followers. sharp was the next in command, but he was disheartened by so unfortunate a beginning, and ordered a retreat. three buccaneers were wounded in the re-embarkation. in the narrative which sharp himself published, he says, 'we landed at a _stockado_ built by the spaniards, where we had a small rencounter with the enemy, who killed us three men, whereof the brave captain sawkins was one, and wounded four or five more; besides which we got nothing, so that we found it our best way to retreat down the river again.' the death of sawkins was a great misfortune to the buccaneers, and was felt by them as such. one buccaneer relates, 'captain sawkins landing at _pueblo nuevo_ before the rest, as being a man of undaunted courage, and running up with a small party to a breastwork, was unfortunately killed. and this disaster occasioned a mutiny amongst our men; for our commanders were not thought to be leaders fit for such hard enterprises. now captain sharp was left in chief, and he was censured by many, and the contest grew to that degree that they divided into parties, and about of our men fell off from us.' [sidenote: imposition practised by sharp.] ringrose was not in _england_ when his narrative was published; and advantage was taken of his absence, to interpolate in it some impudent passages in commendation of sharp's, valour. in the printed narrative attributed to ringrose, he is made to say, 'captain sawkins in running up to the breastwork at the head of a few men was killed; a man as valiant and courageous as any could be, and, next unto captain sharp, the best beloved of all our company, or the most part thereof.' ringrose's manuscript journal has been preserved in the sloane collection, at the _british museum_ (no. [ ] of ayscough's catalogue) wherein, with natural expression of affection and regard, he says, 'captain sawkins was a valiant and generous spirited man, and beloved above any other we ever had among us, which he well deserved.' [sidenote: may. sharp chosen commander.] in their retreat down the river of _pueblo nuevo_, the buccaneers took a ship laden with indigo, butter, and pitch; and burnt two other vessels. when returned to _quibo_, they could not agree in the choice of a commander. bartholomew sharp had a greater number of voices than any other pretender, which he obtained by boasting that he would take them a cruise whereby he did not at all doubt they would return home with not less than a thousand pounds to each man. sharp was elected by but a small majority. [sidenote: some separate, and return to the west indies.] between and men who had remained after coxon quitted the command, from attachment to captain sawkins, would not stay to be commanded by sharp, and departed from _quibo_ in one of the prize vessels to return over the _isthmus_ to the _west indies_; where they safely arrived. all the darien indians also returned to the _isthmus_. one hundred and forty-six buccaneers remained with bartholomew sharp. [sidenote: the anchorage at quibo.] 'on the se side of the island _quibo_ is a shoal, or spit of sand, which stretches out a quarter of a league into the sea[ ].' just within this shoal, in fathoms depth, the buccaneer ships lay at anchor. the island abounded in fresh rivers, this being the rainy season. they caught red deer, turtle, and oysters. ringrose says, 'here were oysters so large that we were forced to cut them into four pieces, each quarter being a good mouthful.' here were also oysters of a smaller kind, from which the spaniards collected pearls. they killed alligators at _quibo_, some above feet in length; 'they were very fearful, and tried to escape from those who hunted them.' ringrose relates, that he stood under a manchineal tree to shelter himself from the rain, but some drops fell on his skin from the tree, which caused him to break out all over in red spots, and he was not well for a week afterwards. [sidenote: june.] june the th, sharp and his followers, in two ships, sailed from _quibo_ southward for the coast of _peru_, intending to stop by the way at the _galapagos islands_; but the winds prevented them. [sidenote: island gorgona.] on the th, they anchored on the south side of the _island gorgona_, near the mouth of a river. '_gorgona_ is a high mountainous island, about four leagues in circuit, and is distant about four leagues from the continent. the anchorage is within a pistol-shot of the shore, in depth from to fathoms. at the sw of _gorgona_ is a smaller island, and without the same stands a small rock[ ].' there were at this time streams of fresh water on every side of the island. _gorgona_ being uninhabited, was thought to be a good place of concealment. the island supplied rabbits, monkeys, turtle, oysters, and birds; which provision was inducement to the buccaneers, notwithstanding the rains, to remain there, indulging in idleness, till near the end of july, when the weather began to be dry. they killed a snake at _gorgona_, eleven feet long, and fourteen inches in circumference. [sidenote: july.] july the th, they put to sea. sharp had expressed an intention to attack _guayaquil_; but he was now of opinion that their long stay at _gorgona_ must have occasioned their being discovered by the spaniards, 'notwithstanding that he himself had persuaded them to stay;' their plan was therefore changed for the attack of places more southward, where they would be less expected. [sidenote: island plata.] the winds were from the southward, and it was not till august the th, that they got as far as the _island plata_. [sidenote: august.] the only landing at _plata_ at this time, was on the ne side, near a deep valley, where the ships anchored in fathoms. goats were on this island in such numbers, that they killed above a hundred in a day with little labour, and salted what they did not want for present use. turtle and fish were in plenty. they found only one small spring of fresh water, which was near the landing place, and did not yield them more than gallons in the hours. there were no trees on any part of the island. [sidenote: on the coast of peru.] from _plata_ they proceeded southward. the th, near _cape st. elena_, they met a spanish ship from _guayaquil_ bound to _panama_, which they took after a short action in which one buccaneer was killed, and two others were wounded. in this prize they found dollars. they learnt from their prisoners, that one of the small buccaneer tenders, which had been separated from sawkins in sailing from the _bay of panama_, had been taken by the spaniards, after losing six men out of seven which composed her crew. [sidenote: adventure of a small crew of buccaneers.] their adventure was as follows. not being able to join their commander sawkins at _quibo_, they sailed to the island _gallo_ near the continent (in about ° n.) where they found a party of spaniards, from whom they took three white women. a few days afterwards, they put in at another small island, four leagues distant from _gallo_, where they proposed to remain on the lookout, in hopes of seeing some of their friends come that way, as sawkins had declared it his intention to go to the coast of _peru_. whilst they were waiting in this expectation, a spaniard whom they had kept prisoner, made his escape from them, and got over to the main land. this small buccaneer crew had the imprudence nevertheless to remain in the same quarters long enough to give time for a party of spaniards to pass over from the main land, which they did without being perceived, and placed themselves in ambuscade with so much advantage, that at one volley they killed six buccaneers out of the seven: the one remaining became their prisoner. sharp and his men divided the small sum of money taken in their last prize, and sunk her. ringrose relates, 'we also punished a friar and shot him upon the deck, casting him overboard while he was yet alive. i abhorred such cruelties, yet was forced to hold my tongue.' it is not said in what manner the friar had offended, and sharp does not mention the circumstance in his journal. one of the two vessels in which the buccaneers cruised, sailed badly, on which account she was abandoned, and they all embarked in the ship named the trinidad. [sidenote: september.] on the th of september they took a vessel from _guayaquil_ bound for _lima_, with a lading of timber, chocolate, raw silk, indian cloth, and thread stockings. it appears here to have been a custom among the buccaneers, for the first who boarded an enemy, or captured vessel, to be allowed some extra privilege of plunder. ringrose says, 'we cast dice for the first entrance, and the lot fell to the larboard watch, so twenty men belonging to that watch, entered her.' they took out of this vessel as much of the cargo as they chose, and put some of their prisoners in her; after which they dismissed her with only one mast standing and one sail, that she should not be able to prosecute her voyage southward. [sidenote: october.] sharp passed _callao_ at a distance from land, being apprehensive there might be ships of war in the road. october the th, he was near the town of _arica_, when the boats manned with a large party of buccaneers departed from the ship with intention to attack the town; but, on coming near the shore, they found the surf high, and the whole country appeared to be in arms. [sidenote: th. ilo.] they returned to the ship, and it was agreed to bear away for _ilo_, a small town on the coast, in latitude about ° ' s. their stock of fresh water was by this time so reduced, that they had come to an allowance of only half a pint for a man for the day; and it is related that a pint of water was sold in the ship for dollars. they succeeded however in landing at _ilo_, and obtained there fresh water, wine, fruits, flour, oil, chocolate, sugar, and other provisions. the spaniards would give neither money nor cattle to have their buildings and plantations spared, and the buccaneers committed all the mischief they could. [sidenote: december. shoals of anchovies.] from _ilo_ they proceeded southward. december the st, in the night, being in latitude about °, they found themselves in white water, like banks or breakers, which extended a mile or more in length; but they were relieved from their alarm by discovering that what they had apprehended to be rocks and breakers was a large shoal of anchovies. [sidenote: on the coast of peru. la serena plundered and burnt.] december the d, they landed at the town of _la serena_, which they entered without opposition. some spaniards came to negociate with them to ransom the town from being burnt, for which they agreed to pay , pieces of eight; but the money came not at the time appointed, and the buccaneers had reason to suspect the spaniards intended to deceive them. [sidenote: attempt of the spaniards to burn the ship.] ringrose relates, that a man ventured to come in the night from the shore, on a float made of a horse's hide blown up like a bladder. 'he being arrived at the ship, went under the stern and crammed oakum and brimstone and other combustible matter between the rudder and the stern-post. having done this, he fired it with a match, so that in a small time our rudder was on fire, and all the ship in a smoke. our men, both alarmed and amazed with this smoke, ran up and down the ship, suspecting the prisoners to have fired the vessel, thereby to get their liberty and seek our destruction. at last they found out where the fire was, and had the good fortune to quench it before its going too far. after which we sent the boat ashore, and found both the hide afore-mentioned, and the match burning at both ends, whereby we became acquainted with the whole matter.' by the _la serena_ expedition they obtained five hundred pounds weight of silver. one of the crew died in consequence of hard drinking whilst on shore. they released all their prisoners here, except a pilot; after which, they stood from the continent for _juan fernandez_. in their approach to that island, it is remarked by ringrose, that they saw neither bird, nor fish; and this being noticed to the pilot, he made answer, that he had many times sailed by _juan fernandez_, and had never seen either fish or fowl whilst at sea in sight of the island. [sidenote: island juan fernandez.] on christmas day, they anchored in a bay at the south part of _juan fernandez_; but finding the winds se and southerly, they quitted that anchorage, and went to a bay on the north side of the island, where they cast anchor in fathoms, so near to the shore that they fastened the end of another cable from the ship to the trees; being sheltered by the land from ese round by the south and west, and as far as nbw[ ]. their fastenings, however, did not hold the ship against the strong flurries that blew from the land, and she was twice forced to sea; but each time recovered the anchorage without much difficulty. [sidenote: . january.] the shore of this bay was covered with seals and sea lions, whose noise and company were very troublesome to the men employed in filling fresh water. the seals coveted to lie where streams of fresh water ran into the sea, which made it necessary to keep people constantly employed to beat them off. fish were in the greatest plenty; and innumerable sea birds had their nests near the shore, which makes the remark of ringrose on approaching the island the more extraordinary. craw-fish and lobsters were in abundance; and on the island itself goats were in such plenty, that, besides what they eat during their stay, they killed about a hundred for salting, and took away as many alive. [sidenote: sharp deposed from the command. watling elected commander.] here new disagreements broke out among the buccaneers. some wished to sail immediately homeward by the _strait of magalhanes_; others desired to try their fortune longer in the _south sea_. sharp was of the party for returning home; but in the end the majority deposed him from the command, and elected for his successor john watling, 'an old privateer, and esteemed a stout seaman.' articles were drawn up in writing between watling and the crew, and subscribed. one narrative says, 'the true occasion of the grudge against sharp was, that he had got by these adventures almost a thousand pounds, whereas many of our men were scarce worth a groat; and good reason there was for their poverty, for at the _isle of plate_ and other places, they had lost all their money to their fellow buccaneers at dice; so that some had a great deal, and others, just nothing. those who were thrifty sided with captain sharp, but the others, being the greatest number, turned sharp out of his command; and sharp's party were persuaded to have patience, seeing they were the fewest, and had money to lose, which the other party had not.' dampier says sharp was displaced by general consent, the company not being satisfied either with his courage or his conduct. watling began his command by ordering the observance of the sabbath. 'this day, january the th,' says ringrose, 'was the first sunday that ever we kept by command since the loss and death of our valiant commander captain sawkins, who once threw the dice overboard, finding them in use on the said day.' [sidenote: th. th. they sail from juan fernandez.] the th, two boats were sent from the ship to a distant part of the island to catch goats. on the following morning, the boats were seen returning in great haste, and firing muskets to give alarm. when arrived on board, they gave information that three sail, which they believed to be spanish ships of war, were in sight of the island, and were making for the anchorage. in half an hour after this notice, the strange ships were seen from the bay; upon which, all the men employed on shore in watering, hunting, and other occupations, were called on board with the utmost speed; and not to lose time, the cable was slipped, and the ship put to sea. [sidenote: william, a mosquito indian, left on the island.] it happened in this hurry of quitting the island, that one of the mosquito indians who had come with the buccaneers, and was by them called william, was absent in the woods hunting goats, and heard nothing of the alarm. no time could be spared for search, and the ship sailed without him. this it seems was not the first instance of a solitary individual being left to inhabit _juan fernandez_. their spanish pilot affirmed to them, that 'many years before, a ship had been cast away there, and only one man saved, who lived alone upon the island five years, when another ship coming that way, took him off.' the three vessels whose appearance caused them in such haste to quit their anchorage, were armed spanish ships. they remained in sight of the buccaneer ship two days, but no inclination appeared on either side to try the event of a battle. the buccaneers had not a single great gun in their ship, and must have trusted to their musketry and to boarding. [sidenote: th.] on the evening of the th after dark, they resigned the honour of the field to the spaniards, and made sail eastward for the american coast, with design to attack _arica_, which place they had been informed contained great riches. [sidenote: january th. island yqueque. river de camarones.] the th, they were close to the small island named _yqueque_, about leagues to the south of _arica_, where they plundered a small indian village of provisions, and took two old spaniards and two indians prisoners. this island was destitute of fresh water, and the inhabitants were obliged to supply themselves from the continent, at a river named _de camarones_, spanish leagues to the north of _yqueque_. the people on _yqueque_ were the servants and slaves of the governor of _arica_, and were employed by him to catch and dry fish, which were disposed of to great profit among the inland towns of the continent. the indians here eat much and often of certain leaves 'which were in taste much like to the bay leaves in england, by the continual use of which their teeth were dyed of a green colour.' [sidenote: th.] the th, watling examined one of the old spaniards concerning the force at _arica_; and being offended at his answers, ordered him to be shot, which was done. the same morning they took a small bark from the river _camarones_, laden with fresh water. [sidenote: on the coast of peru.] in the night of the th, watling with one hundred men departed from the ship in the small prize bark and boats for _arica_. they put ashore on the mainland about five leagues to the south of _arica_, before it was light, and remained concealed among rocks all day. [sidenote: th. they attack arica.] at night, they again proceeded, and at daylight (on the th) watling landed with men, four miles from the town, to which they marched, and gained entrance, with the loss of three men killed, and two wounded. there was a castle or fort, which for their own security they ought immediately to have attacked; but watling was only intent on making prisoners, until he was incommoded, with more than could be well guarded. this gave the inhabitants who had fled, time to recover from their alarm, and they collected in the fort. to complete the mistake, watling at length advanced to attack the fort, where he found resistance more than he expected. [sidenote: are repulsed.] watling put in practice the expedient of placing his prisoners in front of his own men; but the defenders of the fort were not a whit deterred thereby from firing on the buccaneers, who were twice repulsed. the spaniards without, in the mean time, began to make head from all parts; and in a little time the buccaneers, from being the assailants, found themselves obliged to look to their defence. [sidenote: watling killed.] watling their chief was killed, as were two quarter-masters, the boatswain, and some others of their best men; and the rest thought it necessary to retreat to their boats, which, though harassed the whole way by a distant firing from the spaniards, they effected in tolerable order, and embarked. in this attack, the buccaneers lost in killed, and taken prisoners by the spaniards, men; and of those who got back to the ship, eighteen were wounded. among the men taken by the spaniards were two surgeons, to whose care the wounded had been committed. 'we could have brought off our doctors,' says ringrose, 'but they got to drinking whilst we were assaulting the fort, and when we called to them, they would not come with us.' the spaniards gave quarter to the surgeons, 'they being able to do them good service in that country: but as to the wounded men taken prisoners, they were all knocked on the head.' the whole party that landed at _arica_ narrowly escaped destruction; for the spaniards learnt from the prisoners they took, the signals which had been agreed upon with the men left in charge of the boats; of which information they made such use, that the boats had quitted their station, and set sail to run down to the town; but some buccaneers who had been most speedy in the retreat, arrived at the sea side just in time to call them back. [sidenote: sharp again chosen commander.] this miscarriage so much disheartened the whole buccaneer crew, that they made no attempt to take three ships which were at anchor in the road before _arica_. sharp was reinstated in the command, because he was esteemed a leader of safer conduct than any other; and every one was willing to quit the _south sea_, but which it was now proposed they should do by re-crossing the _isthmus_. [sidenote: march. huasco.] they did not, however, immediately steer northward; but continued to beat up against the wind to the southward, till the th of march, when they landed at _guasco_ or _huasco_ (in lat. about - / °) from which place they carried off sheep, goats, bushels of corn, and filled their jars with fresh water. from _huasco_ they stood to the north. on the th, they passed _arica_. the narrative remarks, 'our former entertainment had been so very bad, that we were no ways encouraged to stop there again.' [sidenote: ylo.] they landed at _ylo_, of which wafer says, 'the _river ylo_ is situated in a valley which is the finest i have seen in all the coast of _peru_, and furnished with a multitude of vegetables. a great dew falls here every night.' [sidenote: april.] april the th, they were near the island _plata_. by this time new opinions and new projects had been formed. many of the crew were again willing to try their fortune longer in the _south sea_; but one party would not continue under the command of sharp, and others would not consent to choosing a new commander. as neither party would yield, it was determined to separate, and agreed upon by all hands, 'that which party soever upon polling should be found to have the majority, should keep the ship.' the other party was to have the long-boat and the canoes. on coming to a division, sharp's party proved the most numerous. the minority consisted of forty-four europeans, two mosquito indians, and a spanish indian. [sidenote: another party of the buccaneers return across the isthmus.] on the forenoon of the th, the party in the boats separated from the ship, and proceeded for the _gulf de san miguel_, where they landed, and returned over the _isthmus_ back to the _west indies_. in this party were william dampier, and lionel wafer the surgeon. dampier afterwards published a brief sketch of the expedition, and an account of his return across the _isthmus_, both of which are in the st volume of his voyages. wafer met with an accidental hurt whilst on the _isthmus_, which disabled him from travelling with his countrymen, and he remained some months living with the darien indians, of whom he afterwards published an entertaining description, with a narrative of his own adventures among them. [sidenote: further proceedings of sharp and his followers.] sharp and his diminished crew sailed in their ship from the island _plata_ northward to the _gulf of nicoya_, where they met with no booty, nor with any adventure worth mentioning. [sidenote: july.] they returned southward to the island _plata_, and in the way took three prizes: the first, a ship named the san pedro, from _guayaquil_ bound for _panama_, with a lading of cocoa-nuts, and , pieces of eight in chests, and , in bags, besides plate. the money in bags and all the loose plunder was divided, each man receiving for his share pieces of eight; whence it may be inferred that their number was reduced to about men. the rest of the money was reserved for a future division. their second prize was a packet from _panama_ bound for _callao_, by which they learnt that in _panama_ it was believed all the buccaneers had returned overland to the _west indies_. the third was a ship named the _san rosario_, which did not submit to them without resistance, nor till her captain was killed. she was from _callao_, laden with wine, brandy, oil, and fruit, and had in her as much money as yielded to each buccaneer dollars. one narrative says a much greater booty was missed through ignorance. 'besides the lading already mentioned, we found in the san rosario pigs of plate, which we supposed to be tin, and under this mistake, they were slighted by us all, especially by the captain, who would not by persuasions used by some few be induced to take them into our ship, as we did most of the other things. thus we left them in the _rosario_, which we turned away loose into the sea. this, it should seem, was plate, not thoroughly refined and fitted for coin, which occasioned our being deceived. we took only one pig of the seven hundred into our ship, thinking to make bullets of it; and to this effect, or what else our seamen pleased, the greatest part of it was melted and squandered away. afterwards, when we arrived at _antigua_, we gave the remaining part (which was about one-third thereof) to a _bristol_ man, who knew presently what it was; who brought it to _england_, and sold it there for _l._ sterling. thus we parted with the richest booty we got in the whole voyage, through our own ignorance and laziness[ ].' the same narrative relates, that they took out of the rosario 'a great book full of sea charts and maps, containing an accurate and exact description of all the ports, soundings, rivers, capes, and coasts, of the _south sea_, and all the navigation usually performed by the spaniards in that ocean. this book was for its novelty and curiosity presented unto his majesty on the return of some of the buccaneers to _england_, and was translated into english by his majesty's order[ ].' [sidenote: august.] august the th, they anchored at the island _plata_, whence they departed on the th, bound southward, intending to return by the _strait of magalhanes_ or _strait le maire_, to the _west indies_. the th, they looked in at _paita_; but finding the place prepared for defence, they stood off from the coast, and pursued their course southward, without again coming in sight of land, and without the occurrence of any thing remarkable, till they passed the th degree of latitude. [sidenote: october th. by the western coast of america, in ° ' s.] october the th, they were in latitude ° ' s, and estimated their distance from the american coast to be leagues. the wind blew strong from the sw, and they stood to the south east. on the morning of the th, two hours before day, being in latitude by account ° ' s, they suddenly found themselves close to land. the ship was ill prepared for such an event, the fore yard having been lowered to ease her, on account of the strength of the wind. 'the land was high and towering; and here appeared many islands scattered up and down.' they were so near, and so entangled, that there was no possibility of standing off to sea, and, with such light as they had, they steered, as cautiously as they could, in between some islands, and along an extensive coast, which, whether it was a larger island, or part of the continent, they could not know. [sidenote: they enter a gulf.] as the day advanced, the land was seen to be mountainous and craggy, and the tops covered with snow. sharp says, 'we bore up for a harbour, and steered in northward about five leagues. on the north side there are plenty of harbours[ ].' [sidenote: shergall's harbour.] at in the forenoon they came to an anchor 'in a harbour, in fathoms, within a stone's cast of the shore, where the ship was landlocked, and in smooth water. as the ship went in, one of the crew, named henry shergall, fell overboard as he was going into the spritsail top, and was drowned; on which account this was named _shergall's harbour_.' the bottom was rocky where the ship had anchored; a boat was therefore sent to look for better anchorage. they did not however shift their birth that day; and during the night, strong flurries of wind from the hills, joined with the sharpness of the rocks at the bottom, cut their cable in two, and they were obliged to set sail. [sidenote: another harbour.] they ran about a mile to another bay, where they let go another anchor, and moored the ship with a fastening to a tree on shore. they shot geese, and other wild-fowl. on the shores they found large muscles, cockles like those in _england_, and limpets: here were also penguins, which were shy and not taken without pursuit; 'they padded on the water with their wings very fast, but their bodies were too heavy to be carried by the said wings.' [sidenote: th.] the first part of the time they lay in this harbour, they had almost continual rain. on the night of the th, in a high north wind, the tree to which their cable was fastened gave way, and came up by the root, in consequence of which, the stern of the ship took the ground and damaged the rudder. they secured the ship afresh by fastening the cable to other trees; but were obliged to unhang the rudder to repair. [sidenote: th.] the th was a day of clear weather. the latitude was observed ° ' s. the difference of the rise and fall of the tide was seven feet perpendicular: the time of high water is not noted. [sidenote: the gulf is named the english gulf. duke of york's islands.] the arm of the sea, or gulf, in which they were, they named the _english gulf_; and the land forming the harbour, the _duke of york's island_; 'more by guess than any thing else; for whether it were an island or continent was not discovered,' ringrose says, 'i am persuaded that the place where we now are, is not so great an island as some hydrographers do lay it down, but rather an archipelago of smaller islands. our captain gave to them the name of the _duke of york's islands_. our boat which went eastward, found several good bays and harbours, with deep water close to the shore; but there lay in them several sunken rocks, as there did also in the harbour where the ship lay. these rocks are less dangerous to shipping, by reason they have weeds lying about them.' [sidenote: sharp's english gulf, the brazo de la conçepçion of sarmiento.] from all the preceding description, it appears, that they were at the south part of the island named _madre de dios_ in the spanish atlas, which island is south of the channel, or arm of the sea, named the _gulf de la s^{ma} trinidada_; and that sharp's _english gulf_ is the _brazo de la conçepçion_ of sarmiento. ringrose has drawn a sketch of the _duke of york's islands_, and one of the _english gulf_; but which are not worth copying, as they have neither compass, meridian line, scale, nor soundings. he has given other plan's in the same defective manner, on which account they can be of little use. it is necessary however to remark a difference in the plan which has been printed of the _english gulf_, from the plan in the manuscript. in the printed copy, the shore of the _gulf_ is drawn as one continued line, admitting no thoroughfare; whereas, in the manuscript plan, there are clear openings leaving a prospect of channels through. [sidenote: natives.] towards the end of october, the weather settled fair. hitherto they had seen no inhabitants; but on the th, a party went from the ship in a boat, on an excursion in search of provisions, and unhappily caught sight of a small boat belonging to the natives of the land. [sidenote: one of them killed by the buccaneers.] the ship's boat rowed in pursuit, and the natives, a man, a woman, and a boy, finding their boat would be overtaken, all leapt overboard and swam towards shore. this villainous crew of buccaneers had the barbarity to shoot at them in the water, and they shot the man dead; the woman made her escape to land; the boy, a stout lad about eighteen years of age, was taken, and with the indian boat, was carried to the ship. the poor lad thus made prisoner had only a small covering of seal skin. 'he was squint-eyed, and his hair was cut short. the _doree_, or boat, in which he and the other indians were, was built sharp at each end and flat bottomed: in the middle they had a fire burning for dressing victuals, or other use. they had a net to catch penguins, a club like to our bandies, and wooden darts. this young indian appeared by his actions to be very innocent and foolish. he could open large muscles with his fingers, which our buccaneers could scarcely manage with their knives. he was very wild, and would eat raw flesh.' [sidenote: november.] by the beginning of november the rudder was repaired and hung. ringrose says, 'we could perceive, now the stormy weather was blown over, much small fry of fish about the ship, whereof before we saw none. the weather began to be warm, or rather hot, and the birds, as thrushes and blackbirds, to sing as sweetly as those in england.' [sidenote: native of patagonia carried away.] on the th of november, they sailed out of the _english gulf_, taking with them their young indian prisoner, to whom they gave the name of orson. as they departed, the natives on some of the lands to the eastward made great fires. at six in the evening the ship was without the mouth of the _gulf_: the wind blew fresh from nw, and they stood out swbw, to keep clear of breakers which lie four leagues without the entrance of the _gulf_ to the south and sse. many reefs and rocks were seen hereabouts, on account of which, they kept close to the wind till they were a good distance clear of the land. their navigation from here to the _atlantic_ was, more than could have been imagined, like the journey of travellers by night in a strange country without a guide. the weather was stormy, and they would not venture to steer in for the _strait of magalhanes_, which they had purposed to do for the benefit of the provision which the shores of the _strait_ afford of fresh water, fish, vegetables, and wood. they ran to the south to go round the _tierra del fuego_, having the wind from the nw, which was the most favourable for this navigation; but they frequently lay to, because the weather was thick. [sidenote: passage round cape horn.] on the th, they had not passed the _tierra del fuego_. the latitude according to observation that day was ° ', and the course they steered was sse. [sidenote: th. appearance like land. latitude observed, ° ' s.] on the th, ringrose says, 'the latitude was observed ° ' s, and on this day we could perceive land, from which at noon we were due west.' they steered ebs, and expected that at daylight the next morning they should be close in with the land; but the weather became cloudy with much fall of snow, and nothing more of it was seen. no longitude or meridian distance is noticed, and it must remain doubtful whether what they took for land was floating ice; or their observation for the latitude erroneous, and that they saw the _isles of diego ramirez_. [sidenote: ice islands.] three days afterwards, in latitude ° ' s, they fell in with ice islands, one of which they reckoned to be two leagues in circumference. a strong current set here southward. they held on their course eastward so far that when at length they did sail northward, they saw neither the _tierra del fuego_ nor _staten island_. [sidenote: december.] december the th, they divided the plunder which had been reserved, each man's share of which amounted to pieces of eight. their course was now bent for the _west indies_. [sidenote: . january.] january the th, died william stephens, a seaman, whose death was attributed to his having eaten three manchineal apples six months before, when on the coast of _new spain_, 'from which time he wasted away till he became a perfect skeleton.' [sidenote: arrive in the west indies.] january the th, , they made the island of _barbadoes_, but learnt that the richmond, a british frigate, was lying in the road. ringrose and his fellow journalists say, 'we having acted in all our voyage without a commission, dared not be so bold as to put in, lest the said frigate should seize us for pyrateering, and strip us of all we had got in the whole voyage.' they next sailed to _antigua_; but the governor at that island, colonel codrington, would not give them leave to enter the harbour, though they endeavoured to soften him by sending a present of jewels to his lady, which, however, were not accepted. sharp and his crew grew impatient at their uneasy situation, and came to a determination to separate. some of them landed at _antigua_; sharp and others landed at _nevis_, whence they got passage to _england_. their ship, which was the trinidad captured in the _bay of panama_, was left to seven men of the company who had lost their money by gaming. the buccaneer journals say nothing of their patagonian captive orson after the ship sailed from his country; and what became of the ship after sharp quitted her does not appear. [sidenote: bart. sharp and some of his men tried for piracy.] bartholomew sharp, and a few others, on their arrival in _england_, were apprehended, and a court of admiralty was held at the _marshalsea_ in _southwark_, where, at the instance of the spanish ambassador, they were tried for committing acts of piracy in the _south sea_; but from the defectiveness of the evidence produced, they escaped conviction. one of the principal charges against them was for taking the spanish ship rosario, and killing the captain and another man belonging to her; 'but it was proved,' says the author of the anonymous narrative, who was one of the men brought to trial, 'that the spaniards fired at us first and it was judged that we ought to defend ourselves.' three buccaneers of sharp's crew were also tried at _jamaica_, one of whom was condemned and hanged, 'who,' the narrator says, 'was wheedled into an open confession: the other two stood it out, and escaped for want of witnesses to prove the fact against them.' thus terminated what may be called the first expedition of the buccaneers in the _south sea_; the boat excursion by morgan's men in the _bay of panama_ being of too little consequence to be so reckoned. they had now made successful experiment of the route both by sea and land; and the spaniards in the _south sea_ had reason to apprehend a speedy renewal of their visits. carlos enriquez clerck, who went from _england_ with captain narbrough, was at this time executed at _lima_, on a charge of holding correspondence with the english of _jamaica_; which act of severity probably is attributable more to the alarm which prevailed in the government of _peru_, than to any guilty practices of clerck. chap. xi. _disputes between the french government and their west-india colonies. =morgan= becomes deputy governor of =jamaica=. =la vera cruz= surprised by the flibustiers. other of their enterprises._ [sidenote: . proceedings of the buccaneers in the west indies. prohibitions against piracy by the french government;] whilst so many of the english buccaneers were seeking plunder in the _south sea_, the french flibustiers had not been inactive in the _west indies_, notwithstanding that the french government, after the conclusion of the war with _spain_, issued orders prohibiting the subjects of _france_ in the _west indies_ from cruising against the spaniards. a short time before this order arrived, a cruising commission had been given to granmont, who had thereupon collected men, and made preparation for an expedition to the _tierra firma_; and they did not choose that so much pains should be taken to no purpose. the french settlers generally, were at this time much dissatisfied on account of some regulations imposed upon them by the company of farmers, whose privileges and authority extended to fixing the price upon growth, the produce of the soil; and which they exercised upon tobacco, the article then most cultivated by the french in _hispaniola_, rigorously requiring the planters to deliver it to the company at the price so prescribed. many of the inhabitants, ill brooking to live under such a system of robbery, made preparations to withdraw to the english and dutch settlements; but their discontent on this account was much allayed by the governor writing a remonstrance to the french minister, and promising them his influence towards obtaining a suppression of the farming tobacco. fresh cause of discontent soon occurred, by a monopoly of the french african slave trade being put into the hands of a new company, which was named the _senegal_ company. [sidenote: disregarded by the french buccaneers.] granmont and the flibustiers engaged with him, went to the coast of _cumana_, where they did considerable mischief to the spaniards, with some loss, and little profit, to themselves. [sidenote: - . sir henry morgan, deputy governor of jamaica. his severity to the buccaneers.] in the autumn of this same year, the earl of carlisle, who was governor of _jamaica_, finding the climate did not agree with his constitution, returned to _england_, and left as his deputy to govern in _jamaica_, morgan, the plunderer of _panama_, but who was now sir henry morgan. this man had found favour with king charles ii. or with his ministers, had been knighted, and appointed a commissioner of the admiralty court in _jamaica_. on becoming deputy governor, his administration was far from being favourable to his old associates, some of whom suffered the extreme hardship of being tried and hanged under his authority; and one crew of buccaneers, most of them englishmen, who fell into his hands, he sent to be delivered up (it may be presumed that he sold them) to the spaniards at _carthagena_. morgan's authority as governor was terminated the following year, by the arrival of a governor from _england_[ ]. the impositions on planting and commerce in the french settlements, in the same degree that they discouraged cultivation, encouraged cruising, and the flibustier party so much increased, as to have little danger to apprehend from any governor's authority. [sidenote: .] the matter however did not come to issue, for in , war again broke out between _france_ and _spain_. but before the intelligence arrived in the _west indies_, french flibustiers had assembled under van horn (a native of _ostend_), granmont, and another noted flibustier named laurent de graaf, to make an expedition against the spaniards. [sidenote: van horn, granmont, and de graaf, go against la vera cruz.] van horn had been a notorious pirate, and for a number of years had plundered generally, without shewing partiality or favour to ships of one nation more than to those of another. after amassing great riches, he began to think plain piracy too dangerous an occupation, and determined to reform, which he did by making his peace with the french governor in _hispaniola_, and turning buccaneer or flibustier, into which fraternity he was admitted on paying entrance. the expedition which he undertook in conjunction with granmont and de graaf, was against _la vera cruz_ in the _gulf of mexico_, a town which might be considered as the magazine for all the merchandise which passed between _new spain_ and _old spain_, and was defended by a fort, said to be impregnable. the flibustiers sailed for this place with a fleet of ten ships. they had information that two large spanish ships, with cargoes of cacao, were expected at _la vera cruz_ from the _caraccas_; and upon this intelligence, they put in practice the following expedient. [sidenote: they surprise the town by stratagem.] they embarked the greater number of their men on board two of their largest ships, which, on arriving near _la vera cruz_, put aloft spanish colours, and ran, with all sail set, directly for the port like ships chased, the rest of the buccaneer ships appearing at a distance behind, crowding sail after them. the inhabitants of _la vera cruz_ believed the two headmost ships to be those which were expected from the _caraccas_; and, as the flibustiers had contrived that they should not reach the port till after dark, suffered them to enter without offering them molestation, and to anchor close to the town, which they did without being suspected to be enemies. in the middle of the night, the flibustiers landed, and surprised the fort, which made them masters of the town. the spaniards of the garrison, and all the inhabitants who fell into their hands, they shut up in the churches, where they were kept three days, and with so little care for their subsistence that several died from thirst, and some by drinking immoderately when water was at length given to them. with the plunder, and what was obtained for ransom of the town, it is said the flibustiers carried away a million of piastres, besides a number of slaves and prisoners. van horn shorty after died of a wound received in a quarrel with de graaf. the ship he had commanded, which mounted fifty guns, was bequeathed by him to granmont, who a short time before had lost a ship of nearly the same force in a gale of wind. some quarrels happened at this time between the french flibustiers and the english buccaneers, which are differently related by the english and the french writers. the french account says, that in a spanish ship captured by the flibustiers, was found a letter from the governor of _jamaica_ addressed to the governor of the _havannah_, proposing a union of their force to drive the french from _hispaniola_. [sidenote: story of granmont and an english ship.] also, that an english ship of guns came cruising near _tortuga_, and when the governor of _tortuga_ sent a sloop to demand of the english captain his business there, the englishman insolently replied, that the sea was alike free to all, and he had no account to render to any one. for this answer, the governor sent out a ship to take the english ship, but the governor's ship was roughly treated, and obliged to retire into port. granmont had just returned from the _la vera cruz_ expedition, and the governor applied to him, to go with his fifty gun ship to revenge the affront put upon their nation. 'granmont,' says the narrator, 'accepted the commission joyfully. three hundred flibustiers embarked with him in his ship; he found the englishman proud of his late victory; he immediately grappled with him and put all the english crew to the sword, saving only the captain, who he carried prisoner to _cape françois_.' on the merit of this service, his disobedience to the royal prohibitory order in attacking _la vera cruz_ was to pass with impunity. the english were not yet sufficiently punished; the account proceeds, 'our flibustiers would no longer receive them as partakers in their enterprises, and even confiscated the share they were entitled to receive for the _la vera cruz_ expedition.' thus the french account. if the story of demolishing the english crew is true, the fact is not more absurd than the being vain of such an exploit. if a fifty gun ship will determine to sink a thirty gun ship, the thirty gun ship must in all probability be sunk. the affront given, if it deserves to be called an affront, was not worthy being revenged with a massacre. the story is found only in the french histories, the writers of which it may be suspected were moved to make granmont deal so unmercifully with the english crew, by the kind of feeling which so generally prevails between nations who are near neighbours. to this it may be attributed that père charlevoix, both a good historian and good critic, has adopted the story; but had it been believed by him, he would have related it in a more rational manner, and not with exultation. english writers mention a disagreement which happened about this time between granmont and the english buccaneers, on account of his taking a sloop belonging to _jamaica_, and forcing the crew to serve under him; but which crew found opportunity to take advantage of some disorder in his ship, and to escape in the night[ ]. this seems to have been the whole fact; for an outrage such as is affirmed by the french writers, could not have been committed and have been boasted of by one side, without incurring reproach from the other. the french government was highly offended at the insubordination and unmanageableness of the flibustiers in _hispaniola_, and no one was more so than the french king, louis xiv. towards reducing them to a more orderly state, instructions were sent to the governors in the _west indies_ to be strict in making them observe port regulations; the principal of which were, that all vessels should register their crew and lading before their departure, and also at their return into port; that they should abstain from cruising in times of peace, and should take out regular commissions in times of war; and that they should pay the dues of the crown, one _item_ of which was a tenth of all prizes and plunder. [sidenote: disputes of the french governors with the flibustiers of saint domingo.] the number of the french flibustiers in , was estimated to be . the french government desired to convert them into settlers. a letter written in that year from the french minister to the governor general of the french west-india islands, has this remarkable expression: 'his majesty esteems nothing more important than to render these vagabonds good inhabitants of _saint domingo_.' such being the disposition of the french government, it was an oversight that they did not contribute towards so desirable a purpose by making some abatement in the impositions which oppressed and retarded cultivation, which would have conciliated the colonists, and have been encouragement to the flibustiers to become planters. but the colonists still had to struggle against farming the tobacco, which they had in vain attempted to get commuted for some other burthen, and many cultivators of that plant were reduced to indigence. the greediness of the french chartered companies appears in the _senegal_ company making it a subject of complaint, that the flibustiers sold the negroes they took from the spaniards to whomsoever they pleased, to the prejudice of the interest of the company. it was unreasonable to expect the flibustiers would give up their long accustomed modes of gain, sanctioned as they had hitherto been by the acquiescence and countenance of the french government, and turn planters, under circumstances discouraging to industry. their number likewise rendered it necessary to observe mildness and forbearance in the endeavour to reform them; but both the encouragement and the forbearance were neglected; and in consequence of their being made to apprehend rigorous treatment in their own settlements, many removed to the british and dutch islands. the french flibustiers were unsuccessful at this time in some enterprises they undertook in the _bay of campeachy_, where they lost many men: on the other hand, three of their ships, commanded by de graaf, michel le basque, and another flibustier named jonqué, engaged and took three spanish ships which were sent purposely against them out of _carthagena_. chap. xii. _circumstances which preceded the second irruption of the buccaneers into the =south sea=. buccaneers under =john cook= sail from =virginia=; stop at the =cape de verde islands=; at =sierra leone=. origin and history of the report concerning the supposed discovery of =pepys island=._ the prohibitions being enforced, determined many, both of the english buccaneers and of the french flibustiers, to seek their fortunes in the _south sea_, where they would be at a distance from the control of any established authority. this determination was not a matter generally concerted. the first example was speedily followed, and a trip to the _south sea_ in a short time became a prevailing fashion among them. expeditions were undertaken by different bodies of men unconnected with each other, except when accident, or the similarity of their pursuits, brought them together. [sidenote: circumstances preceding the second irruption of the buccaneers into the south sea.] among the buccaneers in the expedition of to the _south sea_, who from dislike to sharp's command returned across the _isthmus of darien_ at the same time with dampier, was one john cook, who on arriving again in the _west indies_, entered on board a vessel commanded by a dutchman of the name of yanky, which was fitted up as a privateer, and provided with a french commission to cruise against the spaniards. cook, being esteemed a capable seaman, was made quarter-master, by which title, in privateers as well as in buccaneer vessels, the officer next in command to the captain was called. cook continued quarter-master with yanky till they took a spanish ship which was thought well adapted for a cruiser. cook claimed to have the command of this ship, and, according to the usage among privateers in such cases, she was allotted to him, with a crew composed of men who volunteered to sail with him. dampier was of the number, as were several others who had returned from the _south sea_; division was made of the prize goods, and cook entered on his new command. [sidenote: .] this arrangement took place at _isla vaca_, or _isle a vache_, a small island near the south coast of _hispaniola_, which was then much resorted to by both privateers and buccaneers. it happened at this time, that besides yanky's ship, some french privateers having legal commissions, were lying at _avache_, and their commanders did not contentedly behold men without a commission, and who were but buccaneers, in the possession of a finer ship than any belonging to themselves who cruised under lawful authority. the occasion being so fair, and remembering what morgan had done in a case something similar, after short counsel, they joined together, and seized the buccaneer ship, goods, and arms, and turned the crew ashore. a fellow-feeling that still existed between the privateers and buccaneers, and probably a want of hands, induced a captain tristian, who commanded one of the privateers, to receive into his ship ten of the buccaneers to be part of his crew. among these were cook, and a buccaneer afterwards of greater note, named edward davis. tristian sailed to _petit guaves_, where the ship had not been long at anchor, before himself and the greatest part of his men went on shore. cook and his companions thought this also a fair occasion, and accordingly they made themselves masters of the ship. those of tristian's men who were on board, they turned ashore, and immediately taking up the anchors, sailed back close in to the _isle a vache_, where, before notice of their exploit reached the governor, they collected and took on board the remainder of their old company, and sailed away. they had scarcely left the _isle a vache_, when they met and captured two vessels, one of which was a ship from _france_ laden with wines. thinking it unsafe to continue longer in the _west indies_, they directed their course for _virginia_, where they arrived with their prizes in april . [sidenote: august, . buccaneers under john cook sail for the south sea.] in _virginia_ they disposed of their prize goods, and two vessels, keeping one with which they proposed to make a voyage to the _south sea_, and which they named the revenge. she mounted guns, and the number of adventurers who embarked in her, were about seventy, the major part of them old buccaneers, some of whose names have since been much noted, as william dampier, edward davis, lionel wafer, ambrose cowley, and john cook their captain. august the d, , they sailed from the _chesapeak_. dampier and cowley have both related their piratical adventures, but with some degree of caution, to prevent bringing upon themselves a charge of piracy. cowley pretended that he was engaged to sail in the revenge to navigate her, but was kept in ignorance of the design of the voyage, and made to believe they were bound for the _island hispaniola_; and that it was not revealed to him till after they got out to sea, that instead of to the _west indies_, they were bound to the coast of _guinea_, there to seek for a better ship, in which they might sail to the _great south sea_. william dampier, who always shews respect for truth, would not stoop to dissimulation; but he forbears being circumstantial concerning the outset of this voyage, and the particulars of their proceedings whilst in the _atlantic_; supplying the chasm in the following general terms; "august the d, , we sailed from _virginia_ under the command of captain cook, bound for the _south seas_. i shall not trouble the reader with an account of every day's run, but hasten to the less known parts of the world." [sidenote: cape de verde islands.] whilst near the coast of _virginia_ they met a dutch ship, out of which they took six casks of wine; and other provisions; also two dutch seamen, who voluntarily entered with them. [sidenote: september.] some time in september they anchored at the _isle of sal_, where they procured fish and a few goats, but neither fruits nor good fresh water. only five men lived on the island, who were all black; but they called themselves portuguese, and one was styled the governor. [sidenote: ambergris.] these portuguese exchanged a lump of ambergris, or what was supposed to be ambergris, for old clothes. dampier says, 'not a man in the ship knew ambergris, but i have since seen it in other places, and am certain this was not the right; it was of a dark colour, like sheep's dung, very soft, but of no smell; and possibly was goat's dung. some i afterwards saw sold at the _nicobars_ in the _east indies_, was of lighter colour, and very hard, neither had that any smell, and i suppose was also a cheat. mr. hill, a surgeon, once shewed me a piece of ambergris, and related to me, that one mr. benjamin barker, a man i have been long well acquainted with, and know to be a very sober and credible person, told this mr. hill, that being in the _bay of honduras_, he found in a sandy bay upon the shore of an island, a lump of ambergris so large, that when carried to _jamaica_, it was found to weigh upwards of _lbs._ when he found it, it lay dry above the mark of the sea at high water, and in it were a great multitude of beetles. it was of a dusky colour, towards black, about the hardness of mellow cheese, and of a very fragrant smell. what mr. hill shewed me was some of it, which mr. barker had given him[ ].' [sidenote: the flamingo.] there were wild-fowl at _sal_; and flamingos, of which, and their manner of building their nests, dampier has given a description. the flesh of the flamingo is lean and black, yet good meat, 'tasting neither fishy nor any way unsavory. a dish of flamingos' tongues is fit for a prince's table: they are large, and have a knob of fat at the root which is an excellent bit. when many of them stand together, at a distance they appear like a brick wall; for their feathers are of the colour of new red brick, and, except when feeding, they commonly stand upright, exactly in a row close by each other.' [sidenote: cape de verde islands.] from the isle of _sal_ they went to other of the _cape de verde islands_. at _st. nicholas_ they watered the ship by digging wells, and at _mayo_ they procured some provisions. they afterwards sailed to the island _st. jago_, but a dutch ship was lying at anchor in _port praya_, which fired her guns at them as soon as they came within reach of shot, and the buccaneers thought it prudent to stand out again to sea. [sidenote: november. coast of guinea.] they next sailed to the coast of _guinea_, which they made in the beginning of november, near _sierra leone_. a large ship was at anchor in the road, which proved to be a dane. on sight of her, and all the time they were standing into the road, all the buccaneer crew, except a few men to manage the sails, kept under deck; which gave their ship the appearance of being a weakly manned merchant-vessel. when they drew near the danish ship, which they did with intention to board her, the buccaneer commander, to prevent suspicion, gave direction in a loud voice to the steersman to put the helm one way; and, according to the plan preconcerted, the steersman put it the contrary, so that their vessel seemed to fall on board the dane through mistake. by this stratagem, they surprised, and, with the loss of five men, became masters of a ship mounting guns, which was victualled and stored for a long voyage. this achievement is related circumstantially in cowley's manuscript journal[ ]; but in his published account he only says, 'near cape _sierra leone_, we alighted on a new ship of guns, which we boarded and carried her away.' [sidenote: sherborough river.] they went with their prize to a river south of the _sierra leone_, called the _sherborough_, to which they were safely piloted through channels among shoals, by one of the crew who had been there before. at the river _sherborough_ there was then an english factory, but distant from where they anchored. near them was a large town inhabited by negroes, who traded freely, selling them rice, fowls, plantains, sugar-canes, palm-wine, and honey. the town was skreened from shipping by a grove of trees. the buccaneers embarked here all in their new ship, and named her the batchelor's delight. their old ship they burnt, 'that she might tell no tales,' and set their prisoners on shore, to shift as well as they could for themselves. they sailed from the coast of guinea in the middle of november, directing their course across the _atlantic_ towards the _strait of magalhanes_. [sidenote: january, .] on january the th, , they had sight of the northernmost of the islands discovered by captain john davis in , (since, among other appellations, called the _sebald de weert islands_.) from the circumstance of their falling in with this land, originated the extraordinary report of an island being discovered in the _southern atlantic ocean_ in lat. ° s, and by cowley named _pepys island_; which was long believed to exist, and has been sought after by navigators of different european nations, even within our own time. the following are the particulars which caused so great a deception. [sidenote: history of the report of a discovery named pepys island.] cowley says, in his manuscript journal, 'january : this month we were in latitude ° ', where we espied an island bearing west of us, and bore away for it, but being too late we lay by all night. the island seemed very pleasant to the eye, with many woods. i may say the whole island was woods, there being a rock above water to the eastward of it with innumerable fowls. i sailed along that island to the southward, and about the sw side of the island there seemed to me to be a good place for ships to ride. the wind blew fresh, and they would not put the boat out. sailing a little further, having and fathoms water, we came to a place where we saw the weeds ride, and found only seven fathoms water and all rocky ground, therefore we put the ship about: but the harbour seemed a good place for ships to ride in. there seemed to me harbour for sail of shipping, the going in but narrow, and the north side of the entrance shallow that i could see: but i think there is water enough on the south side. i would have had them stand upon a wind all night; but they told me they did not come out to go upon discovery. we saw likewise another island by this, which made me to think them the _sibble d'wards_[ ].' the latitude given by cowley is to be attributed to his ignorance, and to this part of his narrative being composed from memory, which he acknowledges, though it is not so stated in the printed narrative. his describing the land to be covered with wood, is sufficiently accounted for by the appearance it makes at a distance, which in the same manner has deceived other voyagers. pernety, in his introduction to m. de bougainville's voyage to the _malouines_ (by which name the french voyagers have chosen to call _john davis's islands_) says, 'as to wood, we were deceived by appearances in running along the coast of the _malouines_: we thought we saw some, but on landing, these appearances were discovered to be only tall bulrushes with large flat leaves, such as are called corn flags[ ].' the editor of cowley's journal, william hack, might possibly believe from the latitude mentioned by cowley, that the land seen by him was a new discovery. to give it a less doubtful appearance, he dropped the minutes of latitude, and also cowley's conjecture that the land was the _sebald de weerts_; and with this falsification of the journal, he took occasion to compliment the honourable mr. pepys, who was then secretary of the admiralty, by putting his name to the land, giving as cowley's words, 'in the latitude of °, we saw land, the same being an island not before known. i gave it the name of _pepys island_.' hack embellished this account with a drawing of _pepys island_, in which is introduced an _admiralty bay_, and _secretary's point_. the account which dampier has given of their falling in with this land, would have cleared up the whole matter, but for a circumstance which is far more extraordinary than any yet mentioned, which is, that it long escaped notice, and seems never to have been generally understood, that dampier and cowley were at this time in the same ship, and their voyage thus far the same. dampier says, 'january the th ( - ) we made the _sebald de weerts_. they are three rocky barren islands without any tree, only some bushes growing on them. the two northernmost lie in ° s, the other in ° ' s. we could not come near the two northern islands, but we came close by the southern; but we could not obtain soundings till within two cables' length of the shore, and there found the bottom to be foul rocky ground[ ].' in consequence of the inattention, or oversight, in not perceiving that dampier and cowley were speaking of the same land, hack's ingenious adulation of the secretary of the admiralty flourished a full century undetected; a _pepys island_ being all the time admitted in the charts. [sidenote: shoals of small red lobsters.] near these islands the variation was observed ° ' easterly. they passed through great shoals of small red lobsters, 'no bigger than the top of a man's little finger, yet all their claws, both great and small, were like a lobster. i never saw,' says dampier, 'any of this sort of fish naturally red, except here.' the winds blew hard from the westward, and they could not fetch the _strait of magalhanes_. [sidenote: february.] on february the th, they were at the entrance of _strait le maire_, when it fell calm, and a strong tide set out of the _strait_ northward, which made a short irregular sea, as in a race, or place where two tides meet, and broke over the waist of the ship, 'which was tossed about like an egg-shell.' [sidenote: they sail by the east end of staten island; and enter the south sea.] a breeze springing up from the wnw, they bore away eastward, and passed round the east end of _staten island_; after which they saw no other land till they came into the _south sea_. they had much rain, and took advantage of it to fill casks with fresh water. [sidenote: march.] march the th, they were in latitude ° s, standing for the _island juan fernandez_. variation ° east. chap. xiii. _buccaneers under =john cook= arrive at =juan fernandez=. account of =william=, a mosquito indian, who had lived there three years. they sail to the =galapagos islands=; thence to the coast of =new spain=. =john cook= dies. =edward davis= chosen commander._ [sidenote: . march th.] continuing their course for _juan fernandez_, on the th in the morning, a strange ship was seen to the southward, standing after them under all her sail. the buccaneers were in hopes she would prove to be a spaniard, and brought to, to wait her coming up. the people on board the strange vessel entertained similar expectations, for they also were english, and were come to the _south sea_ to pick up what they could. this ship was named the nicholas; her commander john eaton; she fitted out in the river _thames_ under pretence of a trading, but in reality with the intention of making a piratical voyage. [sidenote: joined by the nicholas of london, john eaton commander.] the two ships soon joined, and on its being found that they had come on the same errand to the _south sea_, cook and eaton and their men agreed to keep company together. it was learnt from eaton that another english ship, named the cygnet, commanded by a captain swan, had sailed from _london_ for the _south sea_; but fitted out by reputable merchants, and provided with a cargo for a trading voyage, having a licence from the duke of york, then lord high admiral of _england_. the cygnet and the nicholas had met at the entrance of the _strait of magalhanes_, and they entered the _south sea_ in company, but had since been separated by bad weather. [sidenote: march d.] march the d, the batchelor's delight and the nicholas came in sight of the island _juan fernandez_. [sidenote: at juan fernandez. william the mosquito indian.] the reader may remember that when the buccaneers under watling were at _juan fernandez_ in january , the appearance of three spanish ships made them quit the island in great haste, and they left behind a mosquito indian named william, who was in the woods hunting for goats. several of the buccaneers who were then with watling were now with cook, and, eager to discover if any traces could be found which would enable them to conjecture what was become of their former companion, but with small hope of finding him still here, as soon as they were near enough for a boat to be sent from the ship, they hastened to the shore. dampier was in this first boat, as was also a mosquito indian named robin; and as they drew near the land, they had the satisfaction to see william at the sea-side waiting to receive them. dampier has given the following affecting account of their meeting: 'robin, his countryman, was the first who leaped ashore from the boats, and running to his brother _moskito_ man, threw himself flat on his face at his feet, who helping him up and embracing him, fell flat with his face on the ground at robin's feet, and was by him taken up also. we stood with pleasure to behold the surprise, tenderness, and solemnity of this interview, which was exceedingly affectionate on both sides: and when their ceremonies were over, we also that stood gazing at them, drew near, each of us embracing him we had found here, who was overjoyed to see so many of his old friends, come hither as he thought purposely to fetch him. he was named will, as the other was robin; which names were given them by the english, for they have no names among themselves, and they take it as a favour to be named by us, and will complain if we do not appoint them some name when they are with us.' william had lived in solitude on _juan fernandez_ above three years. the spaniards knew of his being on the island, and spanish ships had stopped there, the people belonging to which had made keen search after him; but he kept himself concealed, and they could never discover his retreat. at the time watling sailed from the island, he had a musket, a knife, a small horn of powder, and a few shot. 'when his ammunition was expended, he contrived by notching his knife, to saw the barrel of his gun into small pieces, wherewith he made harpoons, lances, hooks, and a long knife, heating the pieces of iron first in the fire, and then hammering them out as he pleased with stones. this may seem strange to those not acquainted with the sagacity of the indians; but it is no more than what the moskito men were accustomed to in their own country.' he had worn out the clothes with which he landed, and was not otherwise clad than with a skin about his waist. he made fishing lines of the skins of seals cut into thongs. 'he had built himself a hut, half a mile from the sea-shore, which he lined with goats' skins, and slept on his couch or _barbecu_ of sticks raised about two feet from the ground, and spread with goats' skins.' he saw the two ships commanded by cook and eaton the day before they anchored, and from their manoeuvring believing them to be english, he killed three goats, which he drest with vegetables; thus preparing a treat for his friends on their landing; and there has seldom been a more fair and joyful occasion for festivity. [sidenote: stocked with goats by its discoverer.] dampier reckoned two bays in _juan fernandez_ proper for ships to anchor in; 'both at the east end, and in each there is a rivulet of good fresh water.' he mentions (it may be supposed on the authority of spanish information) that this island was stocked with goats by juan fernandez, its discoverer, who, in a second voyage to it, landed three or four of these animals, and they quickly multiplied. also, that juan fernandez had formed a plan of settling here, if he could have obtained a patent or royal grant of the island; which was refused him[ ]. the buccaneers found here a good supply of provisions in goats, wild vegetables, seals, sea-lions, and fish. dampier says, 'the seals at _juan fernandez_ are as big as calves, and have a fine thick short fur, the like i have not taken notice of any where but in these seas. the teeth of the sea-lion are the bigness of a man's thumb: in captain sharp's time, some of the buccaneers made dice of them. both the sea-lion and the seal eat fish, which i believe is their common food.' [sidenote: coast of peru.] april the th, the batchelor's delight and nicholas sailed from _juan fernandez_ for the american coast, which they made in latitude ° s, and sailed northward, keeping sight of the land, but at a good distance. [sidenote: may.] on may the d, in latitude ° ' s, they took a spanish ship laden with timber. [sidenote: appearance of the andes.] dampier remarks that 'from the latitude of ° s to °, and from ° to ° s, the land within the coast is of a prodigious height. it lies generally in ridges parallel to the shore, one within another, each surpassing the other in height, those inland being the highest. they always appear blue when seen from sea, and are seldom obscured by clouds or fogs. these mountains far surpass the _peak of teneriffe_, or the land of _santa martha_.' [sidenote: islands lobos de la mar.] on the th, they anchored at the islands _lobos de la mar_. 'this _lobos_ consists of two little islands each about a mile round, of indifferent height, with a channel between fit only for boats. several rocks lie on the north side of the islands. there is a small cove, or sandy bay, sheltered from the winds, at the west end of the easternmost island, where ships may careen. there is good riding between the easternmost island and the rocks, in , , or fathoms; for the wind is commonly at s, or sse, and the easternmost island lying east and west, shelters that road. both the islands are barren, without fresh water, tree, shrub, grass, or herb; but sea-fowls, seals, and sea-lions were here in multitudes[ ].' on a review of their strength, they mustered in the two ships men fit for service, besides their sick. they remained at the _lobos de la mar_ isles till the th, when three vessels coming in sight, they took up their anchors and gave chace. they captured all the three, which were laden with provisions, principally flour, and bound for _panama_. they learnt from the prisoners that the english ship cygnet had been at _baldivia_, and that the viceroy on information of strange ships having entered the _south sea_, had ordered treasure which had been shipped for _panama_ to be re-landed. [sidenote: they sail to the galapagos islands.] the buccaneers, finding they were expected on the coast, determined to go with their prizes first to the _galapagos islands_, and afterwards to the coast of _new spain_. they arrived in sight of the _galapagos_ on the st; but were not enough to the southward to fetch the southern islands, the wind being from sbe, which dampier remarks is the common trade-wind in this part of the _pacific_. many instances occur in _south sea_ navigations which shew the disadvantage of not keeping well to the south in going to the _galapagos_. [sidenote: duke of norfolk's island.] the two ships anchored near the north east part of one of the easternmost islands, in fathoms, the bottom white hard sand, a mile distant from the shore. it was during this visit of the buccaneers to the _galapagos_, that the chart of these islands which was published with cowley's voyage was made. considering the small opportunity for surveying which was afforded by their track, it may be reckoned a good chart, and has the merit both of being the earliest survey known of these islands, and of having continued in use to this day; the latest charts we have of the _galapagos_ being founded upon this original, and (setting aside the additions) varying little from it in the general outlines. where cook and eaton first anchored, appears to be the _duke of norfolk's island_ of cowley's chart. they found there sea turtle and land turtle, but could stop only one night, on account of two of their prizes, which being deeply laden had fallen too far to leeward to fetch the same anchorage. [sidenote: june. king james's island.] the day following, they sailed on to the next island westward (marked _king james's island_ in the chart) and anchored at its north end, a quarter of a mile distant from the shore, in fathoms. dampier observed the latitude of the north part of this second island, ° ' n, which is considerably more north than it is placed in cowley's chart. the riding here was very uncertain, 'the bottom being so steep that if an anchor starts, it never holds again.' [sidenote: mistake made by the editor of dampier's voyages.] an error has been committed in the printed narrative of dampier, which it may be useful to notice. it is there said, 'the island at which we first anchored hath water on the north end, falling down in a stream from high steep rocks upon the sandy bay, where it may be taken up.' concerning so essential an article to mariners as fresh water, no information can be too minute to deserve attention. [sidenote: concerning fresh water at king james's island.] in the manuscript journal, dampier says of the first island at which they anchored, 'we found there the largest land turtle i ever saw; but the island is rocky and barren, without wood or water.' at the next island at which they anchored, both dampier and cowley mention fresh water being found. cowley says, 'this bay i called _albany bay_, and another place _york road_. here is excellent sweet water.' dampier also in the margin of his written journal where the second anchorage is mentioned, has inserted the note following: 'at the north end of the island we saw water running down from the rocks.' the editor or corrector of the press has mistakenly applied this to the first anchorage. [sidenote: herbage on the north end of albemarle island.] cowley, after assigning names to the different islands, adds, 'we could find no good water on any of these places, save on the _duke of york's_ [_i. e. king james's_] _island_. but at the north end of _albemarle island_ there were green leaves of a thick substance which we chewed to quench our thirst: and there were abundance of fowls in this island which could not live without water, though we could not find it[ ].' animal food was furnished by the _galapagos islands_ in profusion, and of the most delicate kind; of vegetables nothing of use was found except the mammee, the leaves just noticed and berries. the name _galapagos_ which has been assigned to these islands, signifies turtle in the spanish language, and was given to them on account of the great numbers of those animals, both of the sea and land kind, found there. guanoes, an amphibious animal well known in the _west indies_, fish, flamingoes, and turtle-doves so tame that they would alight upon the men's heads, were all in great abundance; and convenient for preserving meat, salt was plentiful at the _galapagos_. some green snakes were the only other animals seen there. [sidenote: land turtle.] the full-grown land turtle were from to _lbs._ in weight. dampier says, 'so sweet that no pullet can eat more pleasantly. they are very fat; the oil saved from them was kept in jars, and used instead of butter to eat with dough-boys or dumplings.'--'we lay here feeding sometimes on land turtle, sometimes on sea turtle, there being plenty of either sort; but the land turtle, as they exceed in sweetness, so do they in numbers: it is incredible to report how numerous they are.' [sidenote: sea turtle.] the sea turtle at the _galapagos_ are of the larger kind of those called the green turtle. dampier thought their flesh not so good as the green turtle of the _west indies_. dampier describes the _galapagos isles_ to be generally of good height: 'four or five of the easternmost islands are rocky, hilly, and barren, producing neither tree, herb, nor grass; but only a green prickly shrub that grows or feet high, as big as a man's leg, and is full of sharp prickles in thick rows from top to bottom, without leaf or fruit. in some places by the sea side grow bushes of burton wood (a sort of wood which grows in the _west indies_) which is good firing. [sidenote: mammee tree.] some of the westernmost of these islands are nine or ten leagues long, have fertile land with mold deep and black; and these produce trees of various kinds, some of great and tall bodies, especially the mammee. the heat is not so violent here as in many other places under the equator. the time of year for the rains, is in november, december, and january.' at _albany bay_, and at other of the islands, the buccaneers built storehouses, in which they lodged packs of their prize flour, and a quantity of sweetmeats, to remain as a reserved store to which they might have recourse on any future occasion. part of this provision was landed at the islands northward of _king james's island_, to which they went in search of fresh water, but did not find any. they endeavoured to sail back to the _duke of york's island_, cowley says, 'there to have watered,' but a current setting northward prevented them. [sidenote: th. they sail from the galapagos.] on june the th, they sailed from the _galapagos islands_ for the island _cocos_, where they proposed to water. the wind at this time was south; but they expected they should find, as they went northward, the general trade-wind blowing from the east; and in that persuasion they steered more easterly than the line of direction in which _cocos_ lay from them, imagining that when they came to the latitude of the island, they would have to bear down upon it before the wind. contrary however to this expectation, as they advanced northward they found the wind more westerly, till it settled at swbs, and they got so far eastward, that they crossed the parallel of _cocos_ without being able to come in sight of it. [sidenote: july. coast of new spain. cape blanco.] missing _cocos_, they sailed on northward for the coast of _new spain_. in the beginning of july, they made the west cape of the _gulf of nicoya_. 'this cape is about the height of _beachy head_, and was named _blanco_, on account of two white rocks lying about half a mile from it, which to those who are far off at sea, appear as part of the mainland; but on coming nearer, they appear like two ships under sail[ ].' [sidenote: john cook, buccaneer commander, dies. edward davis chosen commander.] the day on which they made this land, the buccaneer commander, john cook, who had been some time ill, died. edward davis, the quarter-master, was unanimously elected by the company to succeed in the command. chap. xiv. _=edward davis= commander. on the coast of =new spain= and =peru=. algatrane, a bituminous earth. =davis= is joined by other buccaneers. =eaton= sails to the east indies. =guayaquil= attempted. rivers of =st. jago=, and =tomaco=. in the bay of =panama=. arrivals of numerous parties of buccaneers across the =isthmus= from the =west indies=._ [sidenote: . july. coast of new spain. caldera bay.] dampier describes the coast of _new spain_ immediately westward of the _cape blanco_ last mentioned, to fall in to the ne about four leagues, making a small bay, which is by the spaniards called _caldera_[ ]. within the entrance of this bay, a league from _cape blanco_, was a small brook of very good water running into the sea. the land here is low, making a saddle between two small hills. the ships anchored near the brook, in good depth, on a bottom of clean hard sand; and at this place, their deceased commander was taken on shore and buried. the country appeared thin of inhabitants, and the few seen were shy of coming near strangers. two indians however were caught. some cattle were seen grazing near the shore, at a beef _estançian_ or farm, three miles distant from where the ships lay. two boats were sent thither to bring cattle, having with them one of the indians for a guide. they arrived at the farm towards evening, and some of the buccaneers proposed that they should remain quiet till daylight next morning, when they might surround the cattle and drive a number of them into a pen or inclosure; others of the party disliked this plan, and one of the boats returned to the ships. twelve men, with the other boat, remained, who hauled their boat dry up on the beach, and went and took their lodgings for the night by the farm. when the morning arrived, they found the people of the country had collected, and saw about armed men preparing to attack them. the buccaneers hastened as speedily as they could to the sea-side where they had left their boat, and found her in flames. 'the spaniards now thought they had them secure, and some called to them to ask if they would be pleased to walk to their plantations; to which never a word was answered.' fortunately for the buccaneers, a rock appeared just above water at some distance from the shore, and the way to it being fordable, they waded thither. this served as a place of protection against the enemy, 'who only now and then whistled a shot among them.' it was at about half ebb tide when they took to the rock for refuge; on the return of the flood, the rock became gradually covered. they had been in this situation seven hours, when a boat arrived, sent from the ships in search of them. the rise and fall of the tide here was eight feet perpendicular, and the tide was still rising at the time the boat came to their relief; so that their peril from the sea when on the rock was not less than it had been from the spaniards when they were on shore. from _caldera bay_, they sailed for _ria-lexa_. [sidenote: volcan viejo. ria-lexa harbour.] the coast near _ria-lexa_ is rendered remarkable by a high peaked mountain called _volcan viejo_ (the old volcano.) 'when the mountain bears ne, ships may steer directly in for it, which course will bring them to the harbour. those that go thither must take the sea wind, which is from the ssw, for there is no going in with the land wind. the harbour is made by a low flat island about a mile long and a quarter of a mile broad, which lies about a mile and a half from the main-land. there is a channel at each end of the island: the west channel is the widest and safest, yet at the nw point of the island there is a shoal of which ships must take heed, and when past the shoal must keep close to the island on account of a sandy point which strikes over from the main-land. this harbour is capable of receiving sail of ships. the best riding is near the main-land, where the depth is seven or eight fathoms, clean hard sand. two creeks lead up to the town of _ria-lexa_, which is two leagues distant from the harbour[ ].' the spaniards had erected breastworks and made other preparation in expectation of such a visit as the present. the buccaneers therefore changed their intention, which had been to attack the town; and sailed on for the _gulf of amapalla_. [sidenote: bay of amapalla.] 'the bay or gulf of _amapalla_ runs eight or ten leagues into the country. on the south side of its entrance is _point casivina_, in latitude ° ' n; and on the nw side is _mount san miguel_. there are many islands in this gulf, all low except two, named _amapalla_ and _mangera_, which are both high land. these are two miles asunder, and between them is the best channel into the gulf[ ].' the ships sailed into the _gulf_ through the channel between _point casivina_ and the island _mangera_. davis went with two canoes before the ships, and landed at a village on the island _mangera_. the inhabitants kept at a distance, but a spanish friar and some indians were taken, from whom the buccaneers learnt that there were two indian towns or villages on the _island amapalla_; upon which information they hastened to their canoes, and made for that island. on coming near, some among the inhabitants called out to demand who they were, and what they came for. davis answered by an interpreter, that he and his men were biscayners sent by the king of _spain_ to clear the sea of pirates; and that their business in _amapalla bay_, was to careen. no other spaniard than the padre dwelt among these indians, and only one among the indians could speak the spanish language, who served as a kind of secretary to the padre. the account the buccaneers gave of themselves satisfied the natives, and the secretary said they were welcome. the principal town or village of the island _amapalla_ stood on the top of a hill, and davis and his men, with the friar at their head, marched thither. at each of the towns on _amapalla_, and also on _mangera_, was a handsome built church. the spanish padre officiated at all three, and gave religious instruction to the natives in their own language. the islands were within the jurisdiction of the governor of the town of _san miguel_, which was at the foot of the _mount_. 'i observed,' says dampier, 'in all the indian towns under the spanish government, that the images of the virgin mary, and of other saints with which all their churches are filled, are painted of an indian complexion, and partly in an indian dress: but in the towns which are inhabited chiefly by spaniards, the saints conform to the spanish garb and complexion.' the ships anchored near the east side of the _island amapalla_, which is the largest of the islands, in fathoms depth, clean hard sand. on other islands in the bay were plantations of maize, with cattle, fowls, plantains, and abundance of a plum-tree common in _jamaica_, the fruit of which dampier calls the large hog plum. this fruit is oval, with a large stone and little substance about it; pleasant enough in taste, but he says he never saw one of these plums ripe that had not a maggot or two in it. the buccaneers helped themselves to cattle from an island in the bay which was largely stocked, and which they were informed belonged to a nunnery. the natives willingly assisted them to take the cattle, and were content on receiving small presents for their labour. the buccaneers had no other service to desire of these natives, and therefore it must have been from levity and an ambition to give a specimen of their vocation, more than for any advantage expected, that they planned to take the opportunity when the inhabitants should be assembled in their church, to shut the church doors upon them, the buccaneers themselves say, 'to let the indians know who we were, and to make a bargain with them.' in executing this project, one of the buccaneers being impatient at the leisurely movements of the inhabitants, pushed one of them rather rudely, to hasten him into the church; but the contrary effect was produced, for the native being frightened, ran away, and all the rest taking alarm 'sprang out of the church like deer.' as they fled, some of davis's men fired at them as at an enemy, and among other injury committed, the indian secretary was killed. cowley relates their exploits here very briefly, but in the style of an accomplished gazette writer. he says, 'we set sail from _realejo_ to the _gulf of st. miguel_, where we took two islands; one was inhabited by indians, and the other was well stored with cattle.' [sidenote: september. davis and eaton part company.] davis and eaton here broke off consortship. the cause of their separating was an unreasonable claim of davis's crew, who having the stouter and better ship, would not agree that eaton's men should share equally with themselves in the prizes taken. cowley at this time quitted davis's ship, and entered with eaton, who sailed from the _bay of amapalla_ for the peruvian coast. davis also sailed the same way on the day following (september the d), first releasing the priest of _amapalla_; and with a feeling of remorse something foreign to his profession, by way of atonement to the inhabitants for the annoyance and mischief they had sustained from the buccaneers, he left them one of the prize vessels, with half a cargo of flour. [sidenote: tornadoes near the coast of new spain.] davis sailed out of the gulf by the passage between the islands _amapalla_ and _mangera_. in the navigation towards the coast of _peru_, they had the wind from the nnw and west, except during tornadoes, of which they had one or more every day, and whilst they lasted the wind generally blew from the south east; but as soon as they were over, the wind settled again, in the nw. tornadoes are common near the _bay of panama_ from june to november, and at this time were accompanied with much thunder, lightning, and rain. [sidenote: cape san francisco.] when they came to _cape san francisco_, they found settled fair weather, and the wind at south. on the th, they anchored by the east side of the _island plata_. the st, eaton's ship anchored near them. eaton had been at the _island cocos_, and had lodged on shore there packages of flour. [sidenote: eaton's description of cocos island.] according to eaton's description, _cocos island_ is encompassed with rocks, 'which make it almost inaccessible except at the ne end, where there is a small but secure harbour; and a fine brook of fresh water runs there into the sea. the middle of the island is pretty high, and destitute of trees, but looks green and pleasant with an herb by the spaniards called _gramadiel_. all round the island by the sea, the land is low, and there cocoa-nut trees grow in great groves.' [sidenote: coast of peru.] at _la plata_ they found only one small run of fresh water, which was on the east side of the island, and trickled slowly down from the rocks. the spaniards had recently destroyed the goats here, that they might not serve as provision for the pirates. small sea turtle however were plentiful, as were men-of-war birds and boobies. the tide was remarked to run strong at this part of the coast, the flood to the south. eaton and his crew would willingly have joined company again with davis, but davis's men persisted in their unsociable claim to larger shares: the two ships therefore, though designing alike to cruise on the coast of _peru_, sailed singly and separately, eaton on the d, and davis on the day following. [sidenote: point s^{ta} elena.] davis went to _point s^{ta} elena_. on its west side is deep water and no anchorage. in the bay on the north side of the point is good anchorage, and about a mile within the point was a small indian village, the inhabitants of which carried on a trade with pitch, and salt made there. the _point s^{ta} elena_ is tolerably high, and overgrown with thistles; but the land near it is sandy, low, and in parts overflowed, without tree or grass, and without fresh water; but water-melons grew there, large and very sweet. when the inhabitants of the village wanted fresh water, they were obliged to fetch it from a river called the _colanche_, which is at the innermost part of the bay, four leagues distant from their habitations. the buccaneers landed, and took some natives prisoners. a small bark was lying in the bay at anchor, the crew of which set fire to and abandoned her; but the buccaneers boarded her in time to extinguish the fire. a general order had been given by the viceroy of _peru_ to all ship-masters, that if they should be in danger of being taken by pirates, they should set fire to their vessels and betake themselves to their boats. [sidenote: algatrane, a bituminous earth.] the pitch, which was the principal commodity produced at _s^{ta} elena_, was supplied from a hot spring, of which dampier gives the following account. 'not far from the indian village, and about five paces within high-water mark, a bituminous matter boils out of a little hole in the earth. it is like thin tar; the spaniards call it _algatrane_. by much boiling, it becomes hard like pitch, and is used by the spaniards instead of pitch. it boils up most at high water, and the inhabitants save it in jars[ ].' [sidenote: a rich ship formerly wrecked on point s^{ta} elena.] a report was current here among the spaniards, 'that many years before, a rich spanish ship was driven ashore at _point s^{ta} elena_, for want of wind to work her; that immediately after she struck, she heeled off to seaward, and sunk in seven or eight fathoms water; and that no one ever attempted to fish for her, because there falls in here a great high sea[ ].' [sidenote: manta.] davis landed at a village named _manta_, on the main-land about three leagues eastward of _cape san lorenzo_, and due north of a high conical mountain called _monte christo_. the village was on a small ascent, and between it and the sea was a spring of good water. [sidenote: sunken rocks near it.] 'about a mile and a half from the shore, right opposite the village, is a rock which is very dangerous, because it never appears above water, neither does the sea break upon it. a mile within the rock is good anchorage in six, eight or ten fathoms, hard sand and clear ground. [sidenote: and shoal.] a mile from the road on the west side is a shoal which runs out a mile into the sea[ ].' the only booty made by landing at _manta_, was the taking two old women prisoners. from them however, the buccaneers obtained intelligence that many of their fraternity had lately crossed the _isthmus_ from the _west indies_, and were at this time on the _south sea_, without ships, cruising about in canoes; and that it was on this account the viceroy had given orders for the destruction of the goats at the island _plata_. [sidenote: october. davis is joined by other buccaneers.] whilst davis and his men, in the batchelor's delight, were lying at the island _plata_, unsettled in their plans by the news they had received, they were, on october the d, joined by the cygnet, captain swan, and by a small bark manned with a crew of buccaneers, both of which anchored in the road. [sidenote: the cygnet, captain swan.] the cygnet, as before noticed, was fitted out from _london_ for the purpose of trade. she had put in at _baldivia_, where swan, seeing the spaniards suspicious of the visits of strangers, gave out that he was bound to the _east indies_, and that he had endeavoured to go by the _cape of good hope_; but that meeting there with storms and unfavourable winds, and not being able to beat round that _cape_, he had changed his course and ran for the _strait of magalhanes_, to sail by the _pacific ocean_ to _india_. this story was too improbable to gain credit. instead of finding a market at _baldivia_, the spaniards there treated him and his people as enemies, by which he lost two men and had several wounded. he afterwards tried the disposition of the spaniards to trade with him at other places, both in _chili_ and _peru_, but no where met encouragement. he proceeded northward for _new spain_ still with the same view; but near the _gulf of nicoya_ he fell in with some buccaneers who had come over the _isthmus_ and were in canoes; and his men (dampier says) forced him to receive them into his ship, and he was afterwards prevailed on to join in their pursuits. swan had to plead in his excuse, the hostility of the spaniards towards him at _baldivia_. these buccaneers with whom swan associated, had for their commander peter harris, a nephew of the peter harris who was killed in battle with the spaniards in the _bay of panama_, in , when the buccaneers were commanded by sawkins and coxon. swan stipulated with them that ten shares of every prize should be set apart for the benefit of his owners, and articles to that purport were drawn up and signed. swan retained the command of the cygnet, with a crew increased by a number of the new comers, for whose accommodation a large quantity of bulky goods belonging to the merchants was thrown into the sea. harris with others of the buccaneers established themselves in a small bark they had taken. on their meeting with davis, there was much joy and congratulation on all sides. they immediately agreed to keep together, and the separation of eaton's ship was now much regretted. they were still incommoded in swan's ship for want of room, therefore (the supercargoes giving consent) whatever part of the cargo any of the crews desired to purchase, it was sold to them upon trust; and more bulky goods were thrown overboard. iron, of which there was a large quantity, was kept for ballast; and the finer goods, as silks, muslins, stockings, &c. were saved. [sidenote: at isle de la plata.] whilst they continued at _la plata_, davis kept a small bark out cruising, which brought in a ship from _guayaquil_, laden with timber, the master of which reported that great preparations were making at _callao_ to attack the pirates. this information made a re-union with eaton more earnestly desired, and a small bark manned with men was dispatched to search along the coast southward as far as to the _lobos isles_, with an invitation to him to join them again. the ships in the mean time followed leisurely in the same direction. [sidenote: cape blanco, near guayaquil; difficult to weather.] on the th, they were off the _cape blanco_ which is between _payta_ and the _bay of guayaquil_. southerly winds prevail along the coast of _peru_ and _chili_ much the greater part of the year; and dampier remarks of this _cape blanco_, that it was reckoned the most difficult to weather of any headland along the coast, the wind generally blowing strong from ssw or sbw, without being altered, as at other parts of the coast, by the land winds. yet it was held necessary here to beat up close in with the shore, because (according to the accounts of spanish seamen) 'on standing out to sea, a current is found setting nw, which will carry a ship farther off shore in two hours, than she can run in again in five.' [sidenote: november. payta burnt.] november the d, the buccaneers landed at _payta_ without opposition, the town being abandoned to them. they found nothing of value, 'not so much as a meal of victuals being left them.' the governor would not pay ransom for the town, though he fed the buccaneers with hopes till the sixth day, when they set it on fire. at most of the towns on the coast of _peru_, the houses are built with bricks made of earth and straw kneaded together and dried in the sun; many houses have no roof other than mats laid upon rafters, for it never rains, and they endeavour to fence only from the sun. from the want of moisture, great part of the country near the coast will not produce timber, and most of the stone they have, 'is so brittle that any one may rub it into sand with their finger.' _payta_ had neither wood nor water, except what was carried thither. the water was procured from a river about two leagues nne of the town, where was a small indian village called _colan_. [sidenote: part of the peruvian coast where it never rains.] dampier says, 'this dry country commences northward about _cape blanco_ (in about ° s latitude) whence it reaches to latitude ° s, in which extent they have no rain that i could ever observe or hear of.' in the southern part of this tract however (according to wafer) they have great dews in the night, by which the vallies are rendered fertile, and are well furnished with vegetables. eaton had been at _payta_, where he burnt a large ship in the road, but did not land. he put on shore there all his prisoners; from which circumstance it was conjectured that he purposed to sail immediately for the _east indies_; and such proved to be the fact. the vessel commanded by harris, sailed badly, and was therefore quitted and burnt. [sidenote: lobos de tierra. lobos de la mar.] on the th, the other buccaneer vessels, under davis, anchored near the ne end of _lobos de tierra_, in four fathoms depth. they took here penguins, boobies, and seals. on the th, they were at _lobos de la mar_, where they found a letter left by the bark sent in search of eaton, which gave information that he had entirely departed from the american coast. the bark had sailed for the island _plata_ expecting to rejoin the ships there. [sidenote: eaton sails for the east indies; stops at the ladrones.] eaton in his route to the _east indies_ stopped at _guahan_, one of the _ladrone islands_, where himself and his crew acted towards the native islanders with the utmost barbarity, which cowley relates as a subject of merriment. on their first arrival at _guahan_, eaton sent a boat on shore to procure refreshments; but the natives kept at a distance, believing his ship to be one of the manila galeons, and his people spaniards. eaton's men served themselves with cocoa-nuts, but finding difficulty in climbing, they cut the trees down to get at the fruit. the next time their boat went to the shore, the islanders attacked her, but were easily repulsed; and a number of them killed. by this time the spanish governor was arrived at the part of the island near which the ship had anchored, and sent a letter addressed to her commander, written in four different languages, to wit, in spanish, french, dutch, and latin, to demand of what country she was, and whence she came. cowley says, 'our captain, thinking the french would be welcomer than the english, returned answer we were french, fitted out by private merchants to make fuller discovery of the world. the governor on this, invited the captain to the shore, and at their first conference, the captain told him that the indians had fallen upon his men, and that we had killed some of them. he wished we had killed them all, and told us of their rebellion, that they had killed eight fathers, of sixteen which were in a convent. he gave us leave to kill and take whatever we could find on one half of the island where the rebels lived. we then made wars with these infidels, and went on shore every day, fetching provisions, and firing upon them wherever we saw them, so that the greatest part of them left the island. the indians sent two of their captains to us to treat of peace, but we would not treat with them[ ].'--'the whole land is a garden. the governor was the same man who detained sir john narbrough's lieutenant at _baldivia_. our captain supplied him with four barrels of gunpowder, and arms.' josef de quiroga was at this time governor at _guahan_, who afterwards conquered and unpeopled all the northern islands of the _ladrones_. eaton's crew took some of the islanders prisoners: three of them jumped overboard to endeavour to escape. it was easy to retake them, as they had been bound with their hands behind them; but eaton's men pursued them with the determined purpose to kill them, which they did in mere wantonness of sport[ ]. at another time, when they had so far come to an accommodation with the islanders as to admit of their approach, the ship's boat being on shore fishing with the seine, some natives in canoes near her were suspected of intending mischief. cowley relates, 'our people that were in the boat let go in amongst the thickest of them, and killed a great many of their number.' it is possible that thus much might have been necessary for safety; but cowley proceeds, 'the others, seeing their mates fall, ran away. our other men which were on shore, meeting them, saluted them also by making holes in their hides.' from the _ladrones_ eaton sailed to the north of _luconia_, and passed through among the islands which were afterwards named by dampier the _bashee islands_. the account given by cowley is as follows: 'there being half a point east variation, till we came to latitude ° ' n, where we fell in with a parcel of islands lying to the northward of _luconia_. on the d day of april, we sailed through between the second and third of the northernmost of them. we met with a very strong current, like the _race of portland_. [sidenote: nutmeg island, north of luconia.] at the third of the northernmost islands, we sent our boat on shore, where they found abundance of nutmegs growing, but no people. they observed abundance of rocks and foul ground near the shore, and saw many goats upon the island.' cowley concludes the narrative of his voyage with saying that he arrived home safe to _england_ through the infinite mercy of god. [sidenote: coast of peru. davis attempts guayaquil. slave ships captured.] to return to edward davis: at _lobos de la mar_, the mosquito indians struck as much turtle as served all the crews. shortly after, davis made an attempt to surprise _guayaquil_, which miscarried through the cowardice of one of his men, and the coldness of swan to the enterprise. in the _bay of guayaquil_ they captured four vessels; one of them laden with woollen cloth of _quito_ manufacture; the other three were ships coming out of the _river of guayaquil_ with cargoes of negroes. the number of negroes in these vessels was a thousand, from among which davis and swan chose each about fifteen, and let the vessels go. dampier entertained on this occasion different views from his companions. 'never,' says he, 'was put into the hands of men a greater opportunity to enrich themselves. we had negroes, all lusty young men and women, and we had tons of flour stored up at the _galapagos islands_. with these negroes we might have gone and settled at _santa maria_ on the _isthmus of darien_, and have employed them in getting gold out of the mines there. all the indians living in that neighbourhood were mortal enemies to the spaniards, were flushed by successes against them, and for several years had been the fast friends of the privateers. add to which, we should have had the _north sea_ open to us, and in a short time should have received assistance from all parts of the _west indies_. many thousands of buccaneers from _jamaica_ and the french islands would have flocked to us; and we should have been an overmatch for all the force the spaniards could have brought out of _peru_ against us.' the proposal to employ slaves in the mines leaves no cause to regret that dampier's plan was not adopted; but that was probably not an objection with his companions. they naturally shrunk from an attempt which in the execution would have required a regularity and order to which they were unaccustomed, and not at all affected. [sidenote: description of the harbour of guayaquil.] the harbour of _guayaquil_ is the best formed port in _peru_. in the river, three or four miles short of the town, stands a low island about a mile long, on either side of which is a fair channel to pass up or down. the western channel is the wildest: the other is as deep. 'from the upper part of the island to the town is about a league, and it is near as much from one side of the river to the other. in that spacious place ships of the greatest burthen may ride afloat; but the best place for ships is near that part of the land on which the town stands. the country here is subject to great rains and thick fogs, which render it very unwholesome and sickly, in the vallies especially; _guayaquil_ however is not so unhealthy as _quito_ and other towns inland; but the northern part of peru pays for the dry weather which they have about _lima_ and to the southward.' [sidenote: island s^{ta} clara. shoals near its north side.] 'ships bound into the river of _guayaquil_ pass on the south side of the island _santa clara_ to avoid shoals which are on the north side, whereon formerly ships have been wrecked. a rich wreck lay on the north side of _santa clara_ not far from the island, and some plate which was in her was taken up: more might have been saved but for the cat-fish which swarm hereabouts. [sidenote: cat fish.] 'the cat-fish is much like a whiting; but the head is flatter and bigger. it has a wide mouth, and certain small strings pointing out on each side of it like cats' whiskers. it hath three fins; one on the back, and one on either side. each of these fins hath a sharp bone which is very venemous if it strikes into a man's flesh. some of the indians that adventured to search this wreck lost their lives, and others the use of their limbs, by these fins. some of the cat-fish weigh seven or eight pounds; and in some places there are cat-fish which are none of them bigger than a man's thumb; but their fins are all alike venemous. they are most generally at the mouths of rivers (in the hot latitudes) or where there is much mud and ooze. the bones in their bodies are not venemous, and we never perceived any bad effect in eating the fish, which is very sweet and wholesome meat[ ].' the th, davis and swan with their prizes sailed from the _bay of guayaquil_ to the island _plata_, and found there the bark which had been in quest of eaton's ship. from _plata_, they sailed northward towards the _bay of panama_, landing at the villages along the coast to seek provisions. they were ill provided with boats, which exposed them to danger in making descents, by their not being able to land or bring off many men at one time; and they judged that the best places for getting their wants in this respect supplied would be in rivers of the continent, in which the spaniards had no settlement, where from the native inhabitants they might obtain canoes by traffic or purchase, if not otherwise. dampier remarks that there were many such unfrequented rivers in the continent to the northward of the _isle de la plata_; and that from the equinoctial to the _gulf de san miguel_ in the _bay of panama_, which is above eight degrees of latitude, the coast was not inhabited by the spaniards, nor were the indians who lived there in any manner under their subjection, except at one part near the island _gallo_, 'where on the banks of a gold river or two, some spaniards had settled to find gold.' [sidenote: the land northward of cape san francisco. the cotton tree and cabbage tree.] the land by the sea-coast to the north of _cape san francisco_ is low and extremely woody; the trees are of extraordinary height and bigness; and in this part of the coast are large and navigable rivers. the white cotton-tree, which bears a very fine sort of cotton, called silk cotton, is the largest tree in these woods; and the cabbage-tree is the tallest. dampier has given full descriptions of both. he measured a cabbage-tree feet in length, and some were longer. 'it has no limbs nor boughs except at the head, where there are branches something bigger than a man's arm. the cabbage-fruit shoots out in the midst of these branches, invested or folded in leaves; and is as big as the small of a man's leg, and a foot long. it is white as milk, and sweet as a nut if eaten raw, and is very sweet and wholesome if boiled.' [sidenote: river of st. jago.] the buccaneers entered a river with their boats, in or near latitude ° n, which dampier, from some spanish pilot-book, calls the _river of st. jago_. it was navigable some leagues within the entrance, and seems to be the river marked with the name _patia_ in the late spanish charts, a name which has allusion to spreading branches. davis's men went six leagues up the river without seeing habitation or people. they then came in sight of two small huts, the inhabitants of which hurried into canoes with their household-stuff, and paddled upwards against the stream faster than they could be pursued. more houses were seen higher up; but the stream ran here so swift, that the buccaneers would not be at the labour of proceeding. [sidenote: island gallo.] they found in the two deserted huts, a hog, some fowls and plantains, which they dressed on the spot, and after their meal returned to the ships, which were at the _island gallo_. 'the island _gallo_ is clothed with timber, and here was a spring of good water at the ne end, with good landing in a small sandy bay, and secure riding in six or seven fathoms depth[ ].' [sidenote: river tomaco.] they entered with their boats another large river, called the _tomaco_, the entrance of which is but three leagues from the _island gallo_. this river was shoal at the mouth, and navigable for small vessels only. a little within, was a village called _tomaco_, some of the inhabitants of which they took prisoners, and carried off a dozen jars of good wine. [sidenote: . january.] on the st of january, they took a packet-boat bound for _lima_, which the president of _panama_ had dispatched to hasten the sailing of the plate fleet from _callao_; the treasure sent from _peru_ and _chili_ to _old spain_ being usually first collected at _panama_, and thence transported on mules to _portobello_. the buccaneers judged that the _pearl islands_ in the _bay of panama_ would be the best station they could occupy for intercepting ships from _lima_. on the th, they left _gallo_, and pursued their course northward. an example occurs here of buccaneer order and discipline. 'we weighed,' says dampier, 'before day, and all got out of the road except captain swan's tender, which never budged; for the men were all asleep when we went out, and the tide of flood coming on before they awoke, we were forced to stay for them till the following tide.' [sidenote: island gorgona.] on the th, they took a vessel laden with flour. the next day they anchored on the west side of the _island gorgona_, in fathoms depth clear ground, a quarter of a mile from the shore. _gorgona_ was uninhabited; and like _gallo_ covered with trees. it is pretty high, and remarkable by two saddles, or risings and fallings on the top. it is about two leagues long, one broad, and is four leagues distant from the mainland. it was well watered at this time with small brooks issuing from the high land. at its west end is another small island. the tide rises and falls seven or eight feet; and at low water shell-fish, as periwinkles, muscles, and oysters, may be taken. at _gorgona_ were small black monkeys. 'when the tide was out, the monkeys would come down to the sea-shore for shell-fish. their way was to take up an oyster and lay it upon a stone, and with another stone to keep beating of it till they broke the shell[ ].' [sidenote: pearl oysters.] the pearl oyster was here in great plenty: they are flatter than other oysters, are slimy, and taste copperish if eaten raw, but were thought good when boiled. the indians and spaniards hang the meat of them on strings to dry. 'the pearl is found at the head of the oyster, between the meat and the shell. some have or small seed-pearl, some none at all, and some one or two pretty large pearls. the inside of the shell is more glorious than the pearl itself[ ].' [sidenote: bay of panama. galera isle.] they put some of their prisoners on shore at _gorgona_, and sailed thence on the th, being six sail in company; that is to say, davis's ship, swan's ship, three tenders, and their last prize. the st, they arrived in the _bay of panama_, and anchored at a small low and barren island named _galera_. on the th, they went from _galera_ to one of the southern _pearl islands_, where they lay the ships aground to clean, the rise and fall of the sea at the spring tides being ten feet perpendicular. the small barks were kept out cruising, and on the st, they brought in a vessel bound for _panama_ from _lavelia_, a town on the west side of the _bay_, laden with indian corn, salt beef, and fowls. notwithstanding it had been long reported that a fleet was fitting out in _peru_ to clear the _south sea_ of pirates, the small force under davis, swan, and harris, amounting to little more than men, remained several weeks in uninterrupted possession of the _bay of panama_, blocking up access to the city by sea, supplying themselves with provisions from the islands, and plundering whatsoever came in their way. [sidenote: the pearl islands.] the _pearl islands_ are woody, and the soil rich. they are cultivated with plantations of rice, plantains, and bananas, for the support of the city of _panama_. dampier says, 'why they are called the _pearl islands_ i cannot imagine, for i did never see one pearl oyster about them, but of other oysters many. it is very pleasant sailing here, having the mainland on one side, which appears in divers forms, beautified with small hills clothed with woods always green and flourishing; and on the other side, the _pearl islands_, which also make a lovely prospect as you sail by them.' the buccaneers went daily in their canoes among the different islands, to fish, fowl, or hunt for guanoes. one man so employed and straggling from his party, was surprised by the spaniards, and carried to _panama_. [sidenote: february.] in the middle of february, davis, who appears to have always directed their movements as the chief in command, went with his ships and anchored near the city of _panama_. he negociated with the governor an exchange of prisoners, and was glad by the release of forty spaniards to obtain the deliverance of two buccaneers; one of them the straggler just mentioned; the other, one of harris's men. a short time after this exchange, as the buccaneer ships were at anchor near the island _taboga_, which is about four leagues to the south of _panama_, they were visited by a spaniard in a canoe, who pretended he was a merchant and wanted to traffic with them privately. he proposed to come off to the ships in the night with a small vessel laden with such goods as the buccaneers desired to purchase. this was agreed to, and he came with his vessel when it was dark; but instead of a cargo of goods, she was fitted up as a fire-ship with combustibles. the buccaneers had suspected his intention and were on their guard; but to ward off the mischief, were obliged to cut from their anchors and set sail. in the morning they returned to their anchorage, which they had scarcely regained when a fresh cause of alarm occurred. dampier relates, [sidenote: arrival of fresh bodies of buccaneers from the west indies.] 'we were striving to recover the anchors we had parted from, but the buoy-ropes, being rotten, broke, and whilst we were puzzling about our anchors, we saw a great many canoes full of men pass between the island _taboga_ and another island, which at first put us into a new consternation. we lay still some time, till we saw they made directly towards us; upon which we weighed and stood towards them. when we came within hail, we found that they were english and french privateers just come from the _north sea_ over the _isthmus of darien_. we presently came to an anchor again, and all the canoes came on board.' [sidenote: grogniet and l'escuyer.] this new arrival of buccaneers to the _south sea_ consisted of frenchmen and englishmen, commanded by two frenchmen named grogniet and l'escuyer. grogniet had a commission to war on the spaniards from a french west-india governor. the englishmen of this party upon joining davis, were received into the ships of their countrymen, and the largest of the prize vessels, which was a ship named the san rosario, was given to the frenchmen. from these new confederates it was learnt, that another party, consisting of buccaneers, commanded by an englishman named townley, had crossed the _isthmus_, and were building canoes in the _gulf de san miguel_; on which intelligence, it was determined to sail to that gulf, that the whole buccaneer force in this sea might be joined. grogniet in return for the ship given to the french buccaneers, offered to davis and swan new commissions from the governor of _petit goave_, by whom he had been furnished with spare commissions with blanks, to be filled up and disposed of at his own discretion. davis accepted grogniet's present, 'having before only an old commission which had belonged to captain tristian, and which, being found in tristian's ship when she was carried off by cook, had devolved as an inheritance to davis.' the commissions which, by whatever means, the buccaneers procured, were not much protection in the event of their falling into the hands of the spaniards, unless the nation of which the buccaneer was a native happened to be then at war with _spain_. instances were not uncommon in the _west indies_ of the spaniards hanging up their buccaneer prisoners with their commissions about their necks. but the commissions were allowed to be valid in the ports of other powers. swan however refused the one offered him, and rested his justification on the orders he had received from the duke of york; in which he was directed, neither to give offence to the spaniards, nor to submit to receive affront from them: they had done him injury in killing his men at _baldivia_, and he held his orders to be a lawful commission to do himself right. [sidenote: march. townley and his crew.] on the d of march, as they approached the _gulf de san miguel_ to meet the buccaneers under townley, they were again surprised by seeing two ships standing towards them. these proved to be townley and his men, in two prizes they had already taken, one laden with flour, the other with wine, brandy, and sugar; both designed for _panama_. [sidenote: pisco wine.] the wine came from _pisco_, 'which place is famous for wine, and was contained in jars of seven or eight gallons each. ships which lade at _pisco_ stow the jars one tier on the top of another, so artificially that we could hardly do the like without breaking them: yet they often carry in this manner or , or more, in a ship, and seldom break one.' on this junction of the buccaneers, they went altogether to the _pearl islands_ to make arrangements, and to fit their prize vessels as well as circumstances would admit, for their new occupation. among the preparations necessary to their equipment, it was not the last which occurred, that the jars from _pisco_ were wanted to contain their sea stock of fresh water; for which service they were in a short time rendered competent. the th, they took a small bark in ballast, from _guayaquil_. on the th, some indians in a canoe came out of the river _santa maria_, purposely to inform them that a large body of english and french buccaneers were then on their march over the _isthmus_ from the _north sea_. this was not all; for on the th, one of the small barks which were kept out cruising, fell in with a vessel in which were six englishmen, who were part of a crew of buccaneers that had been six months in the _south sea_, under the command of a william knight. these six men had been sent in a canoe in chase of a vessel, which they came up with and took; but they had chased out of sight of their own ship, and could not afterwards find her. davis gave the command of this vessel to harris, who took possession of her with a crew of his own followers, and he was sent to the river _santa maria_ to look for the buccaneers, of whose coming the indians had given information. this was the latter part of the dry season in the _bay of panama_. hitherto fresh water had been found in plenty at the _pearl islands_; but the springs and rivulets were now dried up. the buccaneers examined within _point garachina_, but found no fresh water. [sidenote: port de pinas. th. taboga isle.] they searched along the coast southward, and on the th, at a narrow opening in the mainland with two small rocky islands before it, about seven leagues distant from _point garachina_, which dampier supposed to be _port de pinas_, they found a stream of good water which ran into the sea; but the harbour was open to the sw, and a swell set in, which rendered watering there difficult and hazardous: the fleet (for they were nine sail in company) therefore stood for the island _taboga_, 'where,' says dampier, 'we were sure to find a supply.' [sidenote: april.] their boats being sent before the ships, came unexpectedly upon some of the inhabitants of _panama_ who were loading a canoe with plantains, and took them prisoners. one among these, a mulatto, had the imprudence to say he was in the fire-ship which had been sent in the night to burn the buccaneer ships; upon which, the buccaneers immediately hanged him. they had chocolate, but no sugar; and all the kettles they possessed, constantly kept boiling, were not sufficient to dress victuals for so many men. whilst the ships lay at _taboga_, a detachment was sent to a sugar-work on the mainland, from which they returned with sugar and three coppers. [sidenote: more buccaneers arrive.] on the th of april, they went from _tabogo_ to the _pearl islands_, and were there joined by the flibustiers and buccaneers of whose coming they had been last apprised, consisting of men, commanded by frenchmen named rose, le picard, and des-marais. le picard was a veteran who had served under lolonois and morgan. in this party came raveneau de lussan, whose journal is said to be the only one kept by any of the french who were in this expedition. lussan's narrative is written with much misplaced gaiety, which comes early into notice, and shews him to have been, even whilst young and unpractised in the occupation of a buccaneer, of a disposition delighting in cruelty. in the account of his journey overland from the _west indies_, he relates instances which he witnessed of the great dexterity of the monkeys which inhabited the forests, and among others the following: '_je ne puis me souvenir sans rire de l'action que je vis faire a un de ces animaux, auquel apres avoir tiré plusieurs coups de fusil qui lui emportoient une partie du ventre, en sorte que toutes ses tripes sortoient; je le vis se tenir d'une de ses pates, ou mains si l'on veut, a une branche d'arbre, tandis que de l'autre il ramassoit ses intestins qu'il se refouroit dans ce qui lui restoit de ventre[ ]._' ambrose cowley and raveneau de lussan are well matched for comparison, alike not only in their dispositions, but in their conceptions, which made them imagine the recital of such actions would be read with delight. the buccaneers in the _bay of panama_ were now nearly a thousand strong, and they held a consultation whether or not they should attack the city. they had just before learnt from an intercepted packet that the lima fleet was at sea, richly charged with treasure; and that it was composed of all the naval force the spaniards in _peru_ had been able to collect: it was therefore agreed not to attempt the city at the present, but to wait patiently the arrival of the spanish fleet, and give it battle. [sidenote: chepo.] the only enterprise they undertook on the main-land in the mean time, was against the town of _chepo_, where they found neither opposition nor plunder. the small island _chepillo_ near the mouth of the river which leads to _chepo_, dampier reckoned the most pleasant of all the islands in the _bay of panama_. 'it is low on the north side, and rises by a small ascent towards the south side. the soil is yellow, a kind of clay. the low land is planted with all sorts of delicate fruits.' the islands in the bay being occupied by the buccaneers, caused great scarcity of provision and distress at _panama_, much of the consumption in that city having usually been supplied from the islands, which on that account and for their pleasantness were called the gardens of _panama_. in this situation things remained till near the end of may, the buccaneers in daily expectation of seeing the fleet from _lima_, of which it is now time to speak. chap. xv. _=edward davis= commander. meeting of the spanish and buccaneer fleets in the =bay of panama=. they separate without fighting. the buccaneers sail to the island =quibo=. the english and french separate. expedition against the city of =leon=. that city and =ria lexa= burnt. farther dispersion of the buccaneers._ [sidenote: . may. bay of panama.] the viceroy of _peru_ judged the fleet he had collected, to be strong enough to encounter the buccaneers, and did not fear to trust the treasure to its protection; but he gave directions to the commander of the fleet to endeavour to avoid a meeting with them until after the treasure should be safely landed. in pursuance of this plan, the spanish admiral, as he drew near the _bay of panama_, kept more westward than the usual course, and fell in with the coast of _veragua_ to the west of the _punta mala_. afterwards, he entered the _bay_ with his fleet keeping close to the west shore; and to place the treasure out of danger as soon as possible, he landed it at _lavelia_, thinking it most probable his fleet would be descried by the enemy before he could reach _panama_, which must have happened if the weather had not been thick, or if the buccaneers had kept a sharper look-out by stationing tenders across the entrance of the _bay_. [sidenote: the lima fleet arrives at panama.] in consequence of this being neglected, the spanish fleet arrived and anchored before the city of _panama_ without having been perceived by them, and immediately on their arrival, the crews of the ships were reinforced with a number of european seamen who had purposely been sent over land from _porto bello_. thus strengthened, and the treasure being placed out of danger, the spanish admiral took up his anchors, and stood from the road before _panama_ towards the middle of the bay, in quest of the buccaneers. [sidenote: th.] may the th, the morning was rainy: the buccaneer fleet was lying at anchor near the island _pacheca_, the northernmost of the _pearl islands_. at eleven o'clock in the forenoon, the weather cleared up, when the spanish fleet appeared in sight about three leagues distant from them to the wnw. the wind was light from the southward, and they were standing sharp trimmed towards the buccaneers. [sidenote: meeting of the two fleets.] lussan dates this their meeting with the spanish fleet, to be on june the th. ten days alteration of the style had taken place in _france_ three years before, and no alteration of style had yet been adopted in _england_. [sidenote: force of the buccaneer.] the buccaneer fleet was composed of ten sail of vessels, of different sizes, manned with men, almost all europeans; but, excepting the batchelor's delight and the cygnet, none of their vessels had cannon. edward davis was regarded as the admiral. his ship mounted guns, and had a crew of men, most of them english; but as he was furnished with a french commission, and _france_ was still at war with _spain_, he carried aloft a white flag, in which was painted a hand and sword. swan's ship had guns, with a crew of men, all english, and carried a saint george's flag at her main-topmast head. the rest of their fleet was well provided with small-arms, and the crews were dexterous in the use of them. grogniet's ship was the most powerful, except in cannon, her crew consisting of men. [sidenote: force of the spanish fleet.] the spanish fleet numbered fourteen sail, six of which were provided with cannon; six others with musketry only, and two were fitted up as fire-ships. the buccaneer accounts say the spanish admiral had guns mounted, and men; the vice-admiral guns, and men in proportion; the rear-admiral guns, one of the other ships , one , and one guns; and that the number of men in their fleet was above ; but more than one half of them indians or slaves. when the two fleets first had sight of each other, grogniet's ship lay at anchor a mile to leeward of his confederates, on which account he weighed anchor, and stood close upon a wind to the eastward, intending to turn up to the other ships; but in endeavouring to tack, he missed stays twice, which kept him at a distance all the fore part of the day. from the superiority of the spaniards in cannon, and of the buccaneer crews in musketry, it was evident that distant fighting was most to the advantage of the spaniards; and that the buccaneers had to rest their hopes of success on close fighting and boarding. davis was fully of this opinion, and at three o'clock in the afternoon, the enemy's fleet being directly to leeward and not far distant, he got his vessels under sail and bore right down upon them, making a signal at the same time to grogniet to board the spanish vice-admiral, who was some distance separate from the other ships of his fleet. here may be contemplated the buccaneers at the highest pitch of elevation to which they at any time attained. if they obtained the victory, it would give them the sole dominion of the _south sea_; and davis, the buccaneer commander, aimed at no less; but he was ill seconded, and was not possessed of authority to enforce obedience to his commands. the order given to grogniet was not put in execution, and when davis had arrived with his ship within cannon-shot of the spaniards, swan shortened sail and lowered his ensign, to signify he was of opinion that it would be best to postpone fighting till the next day. davis wanting the support of two of the most able ships of his fleet, was obliged to forego his intention, and no act of hostility passed during the afternoon and evening except the exchange of some shot between his own ship and that of the spanish vice-admiral. when it was dark, the spanish fleet anchored, and at the same time, the spanish admiral took in his light, and ordered a light to be shewn from one of his small vessels, which he sent to leeward. the buccaneers were deceived by this artifice, believing the light they saw to be that of the spanish admiral, and they continued under sail, thinking themselves secure of the weather-gage. [sidenote: th.] at daylight the next morning the spaniards were seen well collected, whilst the buccaneer vessels were much dispersed. grogniet and townley were to windward of the spaniards; but all the rest, contrary to what they had expected, were to leeward. at sunrise, the spanish fleet got under sail and bore down towards the leeward buccaneer ships. the buccaneers thought it not prudent to fight under such disadvantages, and did not wait to receive them. they were near the small island _pacheca_, on the south side of which are some islands yet smaller. among these islands, dampier says, is a narrow channel in one part not forty feet wide. townley, being pressed by the spaniards and in danger of being intercepted, pushed for this passage without any previous examination of the depth of water, and got safe through. davis and swan, whose ships were the fastest sailing in either fleet, had the credit of affording protection to their flying companions, by waiting to repulse the most advanced of the spaniards. dampier, who was in davis's ship, says, she was pressed upon by the whole spanish force. 'the spanish admiral and the rest of his squadron began to play at us and we at them as fast as we could: yet they kept at distant cannonading. they might have laid us aboard if they would, but they came not within small-arms shot, intending to maul us in pieces with their great guns.' after a circuitous chace and running fight, which lasted till the evening, the buccaneers, harris's ship excepted, which had been forced to make off in a different direction, anchored by the island _pacheca_, nearly in the same spot whence they had set out in the morning. [sidenote: th.] on the th, at daylight, the spanish fleet was seen at anchor three leagues to leeward. the breeze was faint, and both fleets lay quiet till ten o'clock in the forenoon. the wind then freshened a little from the south, and the spaniards took up their anchors; but instead of making towards the buccaneers, they sailed away in a disgraceful manner for _panama_. whether they sustained any loss in this skirmishing does not appear. the buccaneer's had only one man killed outright. in davis's ship, six men were wounded, and half of her rudder was shot away. [sidenote: the two fleets separate.] it might seem to those little acquainted with the management of ships that it could make no material difference whether the spaniards bore down to engage the buccaneers, or the buccaneers bore down to engage the spaniards; for that in either case when the fleets were closed, the buccaneers might have tried the event of boarding. but the difference here was, that if the buccaneers had the weather-gage, it enabled them to close with the enemy in the most speedy manner, which was of much consequence where the disparity in the number of cannon was so great. when the spaniards had the weather-gage, they would press the approach only near enough to give effect to their cannon, and not near enough for musketry to do them mischief. with this view, they could choose their distance when to stop and bring their broadsides to bear, and leave to the buccaneers the trouble of making nearer approach, against the wind and a heavy cannonade. dampier, who has related the transactions of the th and th very briefly, speaks of the weather-gage here as a decisive advantage. he says, "in the morning (of the th) therefore, when we found the enemy had got the weather-gage of us, and were coming upon us with full sail, we ran for it." on this occasion there is no room for commendation on the valour of either party. the buccaneers, however, knew, by the spanish fleet coming to them from _panama_, that the treasure must have been landed, and therefore they could have had little motive for enterprise. the meeting was faintly sought by both sides, and no battle was fought, except a little cannonading during the retreat of the buccaneers, which on their side was almost wholly confined to the ship of their commander. both dampier and lussan acknowledge that edward davis brought the whole of the buccaneer fleet off safe from the spaniards by his courage and good management. [sidenote: june.] on june the st, the buccaneers sailed out of the _bay of panama_ for the island _quibo_. they had to beat up against sw winds, and had much wet weather. in the middle of june, they anchored on the east side of _quibo_, where they were joined by harris. [sidenote: keys of quibo. the island quibo.] _quibo_ and the smaller islands near it, dampier calls collectively, the keys of _quibo_. they are all woody. good fresh water was found on the great island, which would naturally be the case with the wet weather; and here were deer, guanoes, and large black monkeys, whose flesh was esteemed by the buccaneers to be sweet and wholesome food. [sidenote: rock near the anchorage.] a shoal which runs out from the se point of _quibo_ half a mile into the sea, has been already noticed: a league to the north of this shoal, and a mile distant from the shore, is a rock which appears above water only at the last quarter ebb. except the shoal, and this rock, there is no other danger; and ships may anchor within a quarter of a mile of the shore, in from six to twelve fathoms clear sand and ooze[ ]. they stopped at _quibo_ to make themselves canoes, the trees there being well suited for the purpose, and some so large that a single trunk hollowed and wrought into shape, would carry forty or fifty men. whilst this work was performing, a strong party was sent to the main-land against _pueblo nuevo_, which town was now entered without opposition; but no plunder was obtained. [sidenote: serpents. the serpent berry.] lussan relates that two of the buccaneers were killed by serpents at _quibo_. he says, 'here are serpents whose bite is so venemous that speedy death inevitably ensues, unless the patient can have immediate recourse to a certain fruit, which must be chewed and applied to the part bitten. the tree which bears this fruit grows here, and in other parts of _america_. it resembles the almond-tree in _france_ in height and in its leaves. the fruit is like the sea chestnut (_chataines de mer_) but is of a grey colour, rather bitter in taste, and contains in its middle a whitish almond. the whole is to be chewed together before it is applied. it is called (_graine à serpent_) the serpent berry.' [sidenote: july. disagreements among the buccaneers.] the dissatisfaction caused by their being foiled in the _bay of panama_, broke out in reproaches, and produced great disagreements among the buccaneers. many blamed grogniet for not coming into battle the first day. on the other hand, lussan blames the behaviour of the english, who, he says, being the greater number, lorded it over the french; that townley, liking grogniet's ship better than his own, would have insisted on a change, if the french had not shewn a determination to resist such an imposition. another cause of complaint against the english was, the indecent and irreverent manner in which they shewed their hatred to the roman catholic religion. lussan says, 'when they entered the spanish churches, it was their diversion to hack and mutilate every thing with their cutlasses, and to fire their muskets and pistols at the images of the saints.' [sidenote: the french separate from the english.] in consequence of these disagreements, of the french joined together under grogniet, and separated from the english. [sidenote: knight, a buccaneer commander, joins davis.] before either of the parties had left _quibo_, william knight, a buccaneer already mentioned, arrived there in a ship manned with englishmen and frenchmen. this small crew of buccaneers had crossed the _isthmus_ about nine months before; they had been cruising both on the coast of _new spain_ and on the coast of _peru_; and the sum of their successes amounted to their being provided with a good vessel and a good stock of provisions. they had latterly been to the southward, where they learnt that the _lima_ fleet had sailed against the buccaneers before _panama_, which was the first notice they received of other buccaneers than themselves being in the _south sea_. on the intelligence, they immediately sailed for the _bay of panama_, that they might be present and share in the capture of the spaniards, which they believed would inevitably be the result of a meeting. on arriving in the _bay of panama_, they learnt what really had happened: nevertheless, they proceeded to _quibo_ in search of their friends. the frenchmen in knight's ship left her to join their countrymen: knight and the rest of the crew, put themselves under the command of davis. the ship commanded by harris, was found to be in a decayed state and untenantable. another vessel was given to him and his crew; but the whole company were so much crowded for want of ship room, that a number remained constantly in canoes. one of the canoes which they built at _quibo_ measured feet in length, and between and feet in width. davis and the english party, having determined to attack the city of _leon_ in the province of _nicaragua_, sent an invitation to the french buccaneers to rejoin them. the french had only one ship, which was far from sufficient to contain their whole number, and they demanded, as a condition of their uniting again with the english, that another vessel should be given to themselves. the english could ill spare a ship, and would not agree to the proposition; the separation therefore was final. jean rose, a frenchman, with fourteen of his countrymen, in a new canoe they had built for themselves, left grogniet to try their fortunes under davis. in this, and in other separations which subsequently took place among the buccaneers, it has been thought the most clear and convenient arrangement of narrative, to follow the fortunes of the buccaneer commander edward davis and his adherents, without interruption, to the conclusion of their adventures in the _south sea_; and afterwards, to resume the proceedings of the other adventurers. [sidenote: proceedings of edward davis. august. expedition against the city of leon.] on the th of july, davis with eight vessels and men, departed from the island _quibo_ for _ria lexa_, sailing through the channel between _quibo_ and the main-land, and along the coast of the latter, which was low and overgrown with thick woods, and appeared thin of inhabitants. august the th, at eight in the morning, the ships being then so far out in the offing that they could not be descried from the shore, davis with men went away in canoes for the harbour of _ria lexa_. they set out with fair weather; but at two in the afternoon, a tornado came from the land, with thunder, lightning, and rain, and with such violent gusts of wind that the canoes were all obliged to put right before it, to avoid being overwhelmed by the billows. dampier remarks generally of the hot latitudes, as lussan does of the _pacific ocean_, that the sea there is soon raised by the wind, and when the wind abates is soon down again. _up wind up sea, down wind down sea_, is proverbial between the tropics among seamen. the fierceness of the tornado continued about half an hour, after which the wind gradually abated, and the canoes again made towards the land. at seven in the evening it was calm, and the sea quite smooth. during the night, the buccaneers, having the direction of a spanish pilot, entered a narrow creek which led towards _leon_; but the pilot could not undertake to proceed up till daylight, lest he should mistake, there being several creeks communicating with each other. [sidenote: leon.] the city of _leon_ bordered on the lake of _nicaragua_, and was reckoned twenty miles within the sea coast. they went only a part of this distance by the river, when davis, leaving sixty men to guard the canoes, landed with the rest and marched towards the city, two miles short of which they passed through an indian town. _leon_ had a cathedral and three other churches. it was not fortified, and the spaniards, though they drew up their force in the great square or parade, did not think themselves strong enough to defend the place. about three in the afternoon, the buccaneers entered, and the spaniards retired. all the buccaneers who landed did not arrive at _leon_ that same day. according to their ability for the march, davis had disposed his men into divisions. the foremost was composed of all the most active, who marched without delay for the town, the other divisions following as speedily as they were able. the rear division being of course composed of the worst travellers, some of them could not keep pace even with their own division. they all came in afterwards except two, one of whom was killed, and the other taken prisoner. the man killed was a stout grey-headed old man of the name of swan, aged about years, who had served under cromwell, and had ever since made privateering or buccaneering his occupation. this veteran would not be dissuaded from going on the enterprise against _leon_; but his strength failed in the march; and after being left in the road, he was found by the spaniards, who endeavoured to make him their prisoner; but he refused to surrender, and fired his musket amongst them, having in reserve a pistol still charged; on which he was shot dead. the houses in _leon_ were large, built of stone, but not high, with gardens about them. 'some have recommended _leon_ as the most pleasant place in all _america_; and for health and pleasure it does surpass most places. the country round is of a sandy soil, which soon drinks up the rains to which these parts are much subject[ ].' [sidenote: leon burnt by the buccaneers.] the buccaneers being masters of the city, the governor sent a flag of truce to treat for its ransom. they demanded , dollars, and as much provision as would subsist men four months: also that the buccaneer taken prisoner should be exchanged. these demands it is probable the spaniards never intended to comply with; however they prolonged the negociation, till the buccaneers suspected it was for the purpose of collecting force. therefore, on the th, they set fire to the city, and returned to the coast. the town of _ria lexa_ underwent a similar fate, contrary to the intention of the buccaneer commander. [sidenote: ria lexa. town of ria lexa burnt.] _ria lexa_ is unwholesomely situated in a plain among creeks and swamps, 'and is never free from a noisome smell.' the soil is a strong yellow clay; in the neighbourhood of the town were many sugar-works and beef-farms; pitch, tar, and cordage were made here; with all which commodities the inhabitants carried on a good trade. the buccaneers supplied themselves with as much as they wanted of these articles, besides which, they received at _ria lexa_ head of cattle from a spanish gentleman, who had been released upon his parole, and promise of making such payment for his ransom; their own man who had been made prisoner was redeemed in exchange for a spanish lady, and they found in the town packs of flour; which circumstances might have put the buccaneers in good temper and have induced them to spare the town; 'but,' says dampier, 'some of our destructive crew, i know not by whose order, set fire to the houses, and we marched away and left them burning.' [sidenote: farther separation of the buccaneers.] after the _leon_ expedition, no object of enterprise occurred to them of sufficient magnitude to induce or to enable them to keep together in such large force. dispersed in small bodies, they expected a better chance of procuring both subsistence and plunder. by general consent therefore, the confederacy which had been preserved of the english buccaneers was relinquished, and they formed into new parties according to their several inclinations. swan proposed to cruise along the coast of _new spain_, and nw-ward, as far as to the entrance of the _gulf of california_, and thence to take his departure for the _east indies_. townley and his followers agreed to try their fortunes with swan as long as he remained on the coast of new _spain_; after which they proposed to return to the _isthmus_. in the course of settling these arrangements, william dampier, being desirous of going to the _east indies_, took leave of his commander, edward davis, and embarked with swan. of these, an account will be given hereafter. chap. xvi. _buccaneers under =edward davis=. at =amapalla= bay; =cocos= island; the =galapagos= islands; coast of =peru=. peruvian wine. =knight= quits the =south sea=. bezoar stones. marine productions on mountains. =vermejo.= =davis= joins the french buccaneers at =guayaquil=. long sea engagement._ [sidenote: . august.] with davis there remained the vessels of knight and harris, with a tender, making in all four sail. august the th, they sailed from the harbour of _ria lexa_, and as they departed swan saluted them with fifteen guns, to which davis returned eleven. [sidenote: proceedings of the buccaneers under edw. davis. amapalla bay.] a sickness had broken out among davis's people, which was attributed to the unwholesomeness of the air, or the bad water, at _ria lexa_. after leaving the place, the disorder increased, on which account davis sailed to the _bay of amapalla_, where on his arrival he built huts on one of the islands in the bay for the accommodation of his sick men, and landed them. above of the buccaneers were ill with a spotted fever, and several died. lionel wafer was surgeon with davis, and has given a brief account of his proceedings. wafer, with some others, went on shore to the main land on the south side of _amapalla bay_, to seek for provisions. they walked to a beef farm which was about three miles from their landing. [sidenote: a hot river.] in the way they crossed a hot river in an open savannah, or plain, which they forded with some difficulty on account of its heat. this river issued from under a hill which was not a volcano, though along the coast there were several. 'i had the curiosity,' says wafer, 'to wade up the stream as far as i had daylight to guide me. the water was clear and shallow, but the steams were like those of a boiling pot, and my hair was wet with them. the river reeked without the hill a great way. some of our men who had the itch, bathed themselves here, and growing well soon after, their cure was imputed to the sulphureousness or other virtue of this water.' here were many wolves, who approached so near and so boldly to some who had straggled from the rest of their party, as to give them great alarm, and they did not dare to fire, lest the noise of their guns should bring more wolves about them. [sidenote: cocos island.] davis remained some weeks at _amapalla bay_, and departed thence for the peruvian coast, with the crews of his ships recovered. in their way southward they made _cocos island_, and anchored in the harbour at the ne part, where they supplied themselves with excellent fresh water and cocoa-nuts. wafer has given the description following: 'the middle of _cocos island_ is a steep hill, surrounded with a plain declining to the sea. this plain is thick set with cocoa-nut trees: but what contributes greatly to the pleasure of the place is, that a great many springs of clear and sweet water rising to the top of the hill, are there gathered as in a deep large bason or pond, and the water having no channel, it overflows the verge of its bason in several places, and runs trickling down in pleasant streams. in some places of its overflowing, the rocky side of the hill being more than perpendicular, and hanging over the plain beneath, the water pours down in a cataract, so as to leave a dry space under the spout, and form a kind of arch of water. the freshness which the falling water gives the air in this hot climate makes this a delightful place. [sidenote: effect of excess in drinking the milk of the cocoa-nut.] we did not spare the cocoa-nuts. one day, some of our men being minded to make themselves merry, went ashore and cut down a great many cocoa-nut trees; from which they gathered the fruit, and drew about twenty gallons of the milk. they then sat down and drank healths to the king and queen, and drank an excessive quantity; yet it did not end in drunkenness: but this liquor so chilled and benumbed their nerves that they could neither go nor stand. nor could they return on board without the help of those who had not been partakers of the frolick, nor did they recover under four or five days' time[ ].' here peter harris broke off consortship, and departed for the _east indies_. the tender sailed at the same time, probably following the same route. [sidenote: at the galapagos islands.] davis and knight continued to associate, and sailed together from _cocos island_ to the _galapagos_. at one of these islands they found fresh water; the buccaneer journals do not specify which island, nor any thing that can be depended upon as certain of its situation. wafer only says, 'from _cocos_ we came to one of the _galapagos islands_. at this island there was but one watering-place, and there we careened our ship.' dampier was not with them at this time; but in describing the _galapagos_ isles, he makes the following mention of davis's careening place. 'part of what i say of these islands i had from captain davis, who was there afterwards, and careened his ship at neither of the islands that we were at in , but went to other islands more to the westward, which he found to be good habitable islands, having a deep fat soil capable of producing any thing that grows in those climates: they are well watered, and have plenty of good timber. captain harris came hither likewise, and found some islands that had plenty of mammee-trees, and pretty large rivers. they have good anchoring in many places, so that take the _galapagos islands by and large_, they are extraordinary good places for ships in distress to seek relief at[ ].' wafer has not given the date of this visit, which was the second made by davis to the _galapagos_; but as he stopped several weeks in the _gulf of amapalla_ for the recovery of his sick, and afterwards made some stay at _cocos island_, it must have been late in the year, if not after the end, when he arrived at the _galapagos_, and it is probable, during, or immediately after, a rainy season. the account published by wafer, excepting what relates to the _isthmus_ of _darien_, consists of short notices set down from recollection, and occupying in the whole not above fifty duodecimo pages. he mentions a tree at the island of the _galapagos_ where they careened, like a pear-tree, 'low and not shrubby, very sweet in smell, and full of very sweet gum.' davis and knight took on board their ships packs or sacks of flour from the stores which had formerly been deposited at the _galapagos_. the birds had devoured some, in consequence of the bags having been left exposed. [sidenote: . on the coast of peru.] from the _galapagos_, they sailed to the coast of _peru_, and cruised in company till near the end of . they captured many vessels, which they released after plundering; and attacked several towns along the coast. they had sharp engagements with the spaniards at _guasco_, and at _pisco_, the particulars of which are not related; but they plundered both the towns. [sidenote: peruvian wine like madeira.] they landed also at _la nasca_, a small port on the coast of _peru_ in latitude about ° s, at which place they furnished themselves with a stock of wine. wafer says, 'this is a rich strong wine, in taste much like madeira. it is brought down out of the country to be shipped for _lima_ and _panama_. sometimes it is kept here many years stopped up in jars, of about eight gallons each: the jars were under no shelter, but exposed to the scorching sun, being placed along the bay and between the rocks, every merchant having his own wine marked.' it could not well have been placed more conveniently for the buccaneers. they landed at _coquimbo_, which wafer describes 'a large town with nine churches.' what they did there is not said. wafer mentions a small river that emptied itself in a bay, three miles from the town, in which, up the country, the spaniards get gold. 'the sands of the river by the sea, and round the whole bay, are all bespangled with particles of gold; insomuch that in travelling along the sandy bays, our people were covered with a fine gold-dust, but too fine for any profit, for it would be an endless work to pick it up.' statistical accounts of the viceroyalty of _peru_, which during a succession of years were printed annually at the end of the _lima_ almanack, notice the towns of _santa maria de la perilla_, _guasca_, _santiago de miraflores_, _cañete_, _pisco_, _huara_, and _guayaquil_, being sacked and in part destroyed by pirates, in the years , , and . [sidenote: at juan fernandez.] davis and knight having made much booty (lussan says so much that the share of each man amounted to pieces of eight), they went to the island _juan fernandez_ to refit, intending to sail thence for the _west indies_: but before they had recruited and prepared the ships for the voyage round the south of _america_, fortune made a new distribution of their plunder. many lost all their money at play, and they could not endure, after so much peril, to quit the _south sea_ empty handed, but resolved to revisit the coast of _peru_. [sidenote: knight quits the south sea.] the more fortunate party embarked with knight for the _west indies_. [sidenote: davis returns to the coast of peru.] the luckless residue, consisting of sixty englishmen, and twenty frenchmen, with edward davis at their head, remained with the batchelor's delight to begin their work afresh. they sailed from _juan fernandez_ for the american coast, which they made as far south as the island _mocha_. by traffic with the inhabitants, they procured among other provisions, a number of the llama or peruvian sheep. [sidenote: bezoar stones.] wafer relates, that out of the stomach of one of these sheep he took thirteen bezoar stones of several forms, 'some resembling coral, some round, and all green when first taken out; but by long keeping they turned of an ash colour.' [sidenote: marine productions found on mountains.] in latitude ° s, wanting fresh water, they made search for the river _copiapo_. they landed and ascended the hills in hopes of discovering it. according to wafer's computation they went eight miles within the coast, ascending mountain beyond mountain till they were a full mile in perpendicular height above the level of the sea. they found the ground there covered with sand and sea-shells, 'which,' says wafer, 'i the more wondered at, because there were no shell-fish, nor could i ever find any shells, on any part of the sea-coast hereabouts, though i have looked for them in many places.' they did not discover the river they were in search of; but shortly afterwards, they landed at _arica_, which they plundered; and at the river _ylo_, where they took in fresh water. at _arica_ was a house full of jesuits' bark. [sidenote: vermejo.] wafer relates, 'we also put ashore at _vermejo_, in ° s latitude. i was one of those who landed to see for water. we marched about four miles up a sandy bay, which we found covered with the bodies of men, women, and children. these bodies to appearance, seemed as if they had not been above a week dead; but if touched, they proved dry and light as a sponge or piece of cork. we were told by an old spanish indian whom we met, that in his father's time, the soil there, which now yielded nothing, was well cultivated and fruitful: that the city of _wormia_ had been so numerously inhabited with indians, that they could have handed a fish from hand to hand until it had come to the inca's hand. but that when the spaniards came and laid siege to their city, the indians, rather than yield to their mercy, dug holes in the sand and buried themselves alive. the men as they now lie, have by them their broken bows; and the women their spinning-wheels and distaffs with cotton yarn upon them. of these dead bodies i brought on board a boy of about ten years of age with an intent to bring him to _england_; but was frustrated of my purpose by the sailors, who had a foolish conceit that the compass would not traverse right whilst there was a dead body on board, so they threw him overboard to my great vexation[ ].' [sidenote: april.] near this part of the coast of _peru_, in april , davis had a severe action with a spanish frigate, named the katalina, in which the drunkenness of his crew gave opportunity to the spanish commander, who had made a stout defence, to run his ship ashore upon the coast. they fell in with many other spanish vessels, which, after plundering, they dismissed. shortly after the engagement with the spanish frigate katalina, davis made a descent at _payta_, to seek refreshments for his wounded men, and surprised there a courier with dispatches from the spanish commander at _guayaquil_ to the viceroy at _lima_, by which he learnt that a large body of english and french buccaneers had attacked, and were then in possession of, the town of _guayaquil_. [sidenote: may.] the governor had been taken prisoner by the buccaneers, and the deputy or next in authority, made pressing instances for speedy succour, in his letter to the viceroy, which, according to lussan, contained the following passage: '_the time has expired some days which was appointed for the ransom of our prisoners. i amuse the enemy with the hopes of some thousands of pieces of eight, and they have sent me the heads of four of our prisoners: but if they send me fifty, i should esteem it less prejudicial than our suffering these ruffians to live. if your excellency will hasten the armament to our assistance, here will be a fair opportunity to rid ourselves of them._' [sidenote: davis joins other buccaneers at guayaquil.] upon this news, and the farther intelligence that spanish ships of war had been dispatched from _callao_ to the relief of _guayaquil_, davis sailed for that place, and, on may the th, arrived in the _bay of guayaquil_, where he found many of his old confederates; for these were the french buccaneers who had separated from him under grogniet, and the english who had gone with townley. those two leaders had been overtaken by the perils of their vocation, and were no more. but whilst in their mortal career, and after their separation from davis, though they had at one time been adverse almost to hostility against each other, they had met, been reconciled, and had associated together. townley died first, of a wound he received in battle, and was succeeded in the command of the english by a buccaneer named george hout or hutt. at the attack of _guayaquil_, grogniet was mortally wounded; and le picard was chosen by the french to succeed him in the command. _guayaquil_ was taken on the th of april; the plunder and a number of prisoners had been conveyed by the buccaneers to their ships, which were at anchor by the island _puna_, when their unwearied good fortune brought davis to join them. the taking of _guayaquil_ by the buccaneers under grogniet and hutt will be more circumstantially noticed in the sequel, with other proceedings of the same crews. when davis joined them, they were waiting with hopes, nearly worn out, of obtaining a large ransom which had been promised them for the town of _guayaquil_, and for their prisoners. [sidenote: near the island puna.] the information davis had received made him deem it prudent, instead of going to anchor at _puna_, to remain with his ship on the look-out in the offing; he therefore sent a prize-vessel into the road to acquaint the buccaneers there of his being near at hand, and that the spaniards were to be expected shortly. the captors of _guayaquil_ continued many days after this to wait for ransom. they had some hundreds of prisoners, for whose sakes the spaniards sent daily to the buccaneers large supplies of provisions, of which the prisoners could expect to receive only the surplus after the buccaneers should be satisfied. at length, the spaniards sent , pieces of eight, the most part in gold, and eighty packages of flour. the sum was far short of the first agreement, and the buccaneers at _puna_, to make suitable return, released only a part of the prisoners, reserving for a subsequent settlement those of the most consideration. [sidenote: th. meeting between spanish ships of war and the buccaneers.] on the th, they quitted the road of _puna_, and joined davis. in the evening of the same day, two large spanish ships came in sight. davis's ship mounted guns; and her crew, which had been much diminished by different engagements, was immediately reinforced with men from le picard's party. besides davis's ship, the buccaneers had only a small ship and a _barca-longa_ fit to come into action. their prize vessels which could do no service, were sent for security into shallow water. [sidenote: a sea engagement of seven days.] on the morning of the th, the buccaneers and spaniards were both without the island _s^{ta} clara_. the spaniards were the farthest out at sea, and had the sea-breeze first, with which they bore down till about noon, when being just within the reach of cannon-shot, they hauled upon a wind, and began a distant cannonade, which was continued till evening: the two parties then drew off to about a league asunder, and anchored for the night. on the morning of the th, they took up their anchors, and the day was spent in distant firing, and in endeavours to gain or to keep the wind of each other. the same kind of manoeuvring and distant firing was put in practice on each succeeding day, till the evening of the d of june, which completed the seventh day of this obstinate engagement. the spanish commander, being then satisfied that he had fought long enough, and hopeless of prevailing on the enemy to yield, withdrew in the night. [sidenote: june. the spaniards retire.] on the morning of the d, the buccaneers were surprised, and not displeased, at finding no enemy in sight. during all this fighting, the buccaneers indulged their vanity by keeping the governor of _guayaquil_, and other prisoners of distinction, upon deck, to witness the superiority of their management over that of the spaniards. it was not indeed a post of much danger, for in the whole seven days battle, not one buccaneer was killed, and only two or three were wounded. it may be some apology for the spanish commander, that in consequence of davis's junction with the captors of _guayaquil_, he found a much greater force to contend with than he had been taught to expect. fortune had been peculiarly unfavourable to the spaniards on this occasion. three ships of force had been equipped and sent in company against the buccaneers at _guayaquil_. one of them, the katalina, by accident was separated from the others, and fell in with davis, by whom she was driven on the coast, where she stranded. the spanish armament thus weakened one-third, on arriving in the _bay of guayaquil_, found the buccaneer force there increased, by this same davis, in a proportion greater than their own had been diminished. [sidenote: at the island de la plata.] davis and le picard left the choice of distance to the spaniards in this meeting, not considering it their business to come to serious battle unless forced. they had reason to be satisfied with having defended themselves and their plunder; and after the enemy disappeared, finding the coast clear, they sailed to the island _de la plata_, where they stopped to repair damages, and to hold council. they all now inclined homewards. the booty they had made, if it fell short of the expectations of some, was sufficient to make them eager to be where they could use or expend it; but they were not alike provided with the means of returning to the _north sea_. davis had a stout ship, and he proposed to go the southern passage by the _strait of magalhanes_, or round _cape horne_. no other of the vessels in the possession of the buccaneers was strong enough for such a voyage. all the french therefore, and many of the english buccaneers, bent their thoughts on returning overland, an undertaking that would inevitably be attended with much difficulty, encumbered as they were with their plunder, and the darien indians having become hostile to them. almost all the frenchmen in davis's ship, left her to join their countrymen, and many of the english from their party embarked with davis. all thoughts of farther negociation with the spaniards for the ransom of prisoners, were relinquished. le picard had given notice on quitting the _bay of guayaquil_, that payment would be expected for the release of the remaining prisoners, and that the buccaneers would wait for it at _cape santa elena_; but they had passed that _cape_, and it was apprehended that if they returned thither, instead of receiving ransom, they might find the spanish ships of war, come to renew the attack on them under other commanders. on the th, they landed their prisoners on the continent. [sidenote: division of plunder.] the next day they shared the plunder taken at _guayaquil_. the jewels and ornaments could not well be divided, nor could their value be estimated to general satisfaction: neither could they agree upon a standard proportion between the value of gold and silver. every man was desirous to receive for his share such parts of the spoil as were most portable, and this was more especially of importance to those who intended to march overland. the value of gold was so much enhanced that an ounce of gold was received in lieu of eighty dollars, and a spanish pistole went for fifteen dollars; but these instances probably took place in settling their gaming accounts. in the division of the plunder these difficulties were obviated by a very ingenious and unobjectionable mode of distribution. the silver was first divided: the other articles were then put up to auction, and bid for in pieces of eight; and when all were so disposed of, a second division was made of the silver produced by the sale. davis and his company were not present at the taking of _guayaquil_, but the services they had rendered, had saved both the plunder and the plunderers, and gave them a fair claim to share. neither wafer nor lussan speak to this point, from which it may be inferred that every thing relating to the division was settled among them amicably, and that davis and his men had no reason to be dissatisfied. lussan gives a loose statement of the sum total and of the single shares. 'notwithstanding that these things were sold so dearly, we shared for the taking of _guayaquil_ only pieces of eight to each man, which would make in the whole about fifteen hundred thousand _livres_.' the number of buccaneers with grogniet and hutt immediately previous to the attack of _guayaquil_, was . davis's crew at the time he separated from knight, consisted of eighty men. he had afterwards lost men in several encounters, and it is probable the whole number present at the sharing of the plunder of _guayaquil_ was short of three hundred and fifty. allowing the extra shares to officers to have been , making the whole number of shares , the amount of the plunder will fall short of lussan's estimate. [sidenote: they separate to return home by different routes.] on the th, the two parties finally took leave of each other and separated, bound by different routes for the _atlantic_. chap. xvii. _=edward davis=; his third visit to the =galapagos=. one of those islands, named =santa maria de l'aguada= by the spaniards, a careening place of the buccaneers. sailing thence southward they discover land. question, whether edward davis's discovery is the land which was afterwards named =easter island=? =davis= and his crew arrive in the =west indies=._ [sidenote: . davis sails to the galapagos islands.] davis again sailed to the _galapagos islands_, to victual and refit his ship. lionel wafer was still with him, and appears to have been one of those to whom fortune had been most unpropitious. wafer does not mention either the joining company with the french buccaneers, or the plunder of _guayaquil_; and particularises few of his adventures. he says, 'i shall not pursue all my coasting along the shore of _peru_ with captain davis. we continued rambling about to little purpose, sometimes at sea, sometimes ashore, till having spent much time and visited many places, we were got again to the _galapagos_; from whence we were determined to make the best of our way out of these seas.' at the _galapagos_ they again careened; and there they victualled the ship, taking on board a large supply of flour, curing fish, salting flesh of the land turtle for sea store; and they saved as much of the oil of the land turtle as filled sixty jars (of eight gallons each) which proved excellent, and was thought not inferior to fresh butter. [sidenote: king james's island.] captain colnet was at the _galapagos isles_ in the years and , and found traces, still fresh, which marked the haunts of the buccaneers. he says, 'at every place where we landed on the western side of _king james's isle_, we might have walked for miles through long grass and beneath groves of trees. it only wanted a stream to compose a very charming landscape. this isle appears to have been a favourite resort of the buccaneers, as we found seats made by them of earth and stone, and a considerable number of broken jars scattered about, and some whole, in which the peruvian wine and liquors of the country are preserved. we also found daggers, nails, and other implements. the watering-place of the buccaneers was at this time (the latter part of april or beginning of may) entirely dried up, and there was only found a small rivulet between two hills running into the sea; the northernmost of which hills forms the south point of _fresh water bay_. there is plenty of wood, but that near the shore is not large enough for other use than fire-wood. in the mountains the trees may be larger, as they grow to the summits. i do not think the watering-place we saw is the only one on the island, and i have no doubt, if wells were dug any where beneath the hills, and not near the lagoon behind the sandy beach, that fresh water would be found in great plenty[ ].' since captain colnet's voyage, captain david porter of the american united states' frigate essex, has seen and given descriptions of the _galapagos_ islands. he relates an anecdote which accords with captain colnet's opinion of there being fresh water at _king james's island_. he landed, on its west side, four goats (one male and three female) and some sheep, to graze. as they were tame and of their own accord kept near the landing-place, they were left every night without a keeper, and water was carried to them in the morning. 'but one morning, after they had been on the island several days and nights, the person who attended them went on shore as usual to give them water, but no goats were to be found: they had all as with one accord disappeared. several persons were sent to search after them for two or three days, but without success.' captain porter concluded that they had found fresh water in the interior of the island, and chose to remain near it. 'one fact,' he says, 'was noticed by myself and many others, the day preceding their departure, which must lead us to believe that something more than chance directed their movements, which is, that they all drank an unusual quantity of water on that day, as though they had determined to provide themselves with a supply to enable them to reach the mountains[ ].' davis and his men had leisure for search and to make every kind of experiment; but no one of his party has given any description or account of what was transacted at the _galapagos_ in this his third visit. light, however, has been derived from late voyages. [sidenote: the island s^{ta} maria de l'aguada, a careening place of the buccaneers.] it has been generally believed, but not till lately ascertained, that davis passed most of the time he was amongst the _galapagos_, at an island which the spaniards have designated by the name of _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_, concerning the situation of which the spaniards as well as geographers of other countries have disagreed. a spanish pilot reported to captain woodes rogers that _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_ lay by itself, (i. e. was not one of a groupe of islands) in latitude ° ' or ° ' s, was a pleasant island, well stocked with wood, and with plenty of fresh water[ ]. moll, devaugondy, and others, combining the accounts given by dampier and woodes rogers, have placed a _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_ several degrees to the westward of the whole of cowley's groupe. don antonio de ulloa, on the contrary, has laid it down as one of the _galapagos isles_, but among the most south-eastern of the whole groupe. more consonant with recent information, pascoe thomas, who sailed round the world with commodore anson, has given from a spanish manuscript the situations of different islands of the _galapagos_, and among them that of _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_. the most western in the spanish list published by thomas is named _s^{ta} margarita_, and is the same with the _albemarle island_ in cowley's chart. the _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_ is set down in the same spanish list in latitude ° ' s, and minutes in longitude more east than the longitude given of _s^{ta} margarita_, which situation is due south of cowley's _king james's island_. captain colnet saw land due south of _king james's island_, which he did not anchor at or examine, and appears to have mistaken for the _king charles's island_ of cowley's chart. on comparing captain colnet's chart with cowley's, it is evident that captain colnet has given the name of _lord chatham's isle_ to cowley's _king charles's island_, the bearings and distance from the south end of _albemarle island_ being the same in both, i. e. due east about leagues. it follows that the _charles island_ of colnet's chart was not seen by cowley, and that it is the _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_ of the spaniards. it has lately been frequented by english and by american vessels employed in the south sea whale fishery, who have found a good harbour on its north side, with wood and fresh water; and marks are yet discoverable that it was formerly a careening place of the buccaneers. mr. arrowsmith has added this harbour to captain colnet's chart, on the authority of information communicated by the master of a south sea whaler. from captain david porter's journal, it appears that the watering-place at _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_ is three miles distant from any part of the sea-shore; and that the supply it yields is not constant. on arriving a second time at the _galapagos_, in the latter part of august, captain porter sent a boat on shore to this island. captain porter relates, 'i gave directions that our former watering-places there should be examined, but was informed that they were entirely dried up.' [illustration: gallapagos islands, _described by_ ambrose cowley _in _.] cowley's chart, being original, a buccaneer performance, and not wholly out of use, is annexed to this account; with the insertion, in unshaded outline, of the _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_, according to its situation with respect to _albemarle island_, as laid down in the last edition of captain colnet's chart, published by mr. arrowsmith. this unavoidably makes a difference in the latitude equal to the difference between cowley's and captain colnet's latitude of the south end of _albemarle island_. in captain colnet's chart, the north end of _s^{ta} maria de l'aguada_ is laid down in ° ' s. the voyage of the essex gives reasonable expectation of an improved chart of the _galapagos isles_, the rev. mr. adams, who sailed as chaplain in that expedition, having employed himself actively in surveying them. [sidenote: . davis sails from the galapagos to the southward.] when the season approached for making the passage round _cape horne_, davis and his company quitted their retreat. the date of their sailing is not given. wafer relates, 'from the _galapagos islands_ we went again for the southward, intending to touch no where till we came to the island _juan fernandez_. in our way thither, being in the latitude of ° ' s, and about leagues from the main of _america_, about four o'clock in the morning, our ship felt a terrible shock, so sudden and violent that we took it for granted she had struck upon a rock. when the amazement was a little over, we cast the lead and sounded, but found no ground, so we concluded it must certainly be some earthquake. the sea, which ordinarily looks green, seemed then of a whitish colour; and the water which we took up in the buckets for the ship's use, we found to be a little mixed with sand. some time after, we heard that at that very time, there was an earthquake at _callao_, which did mischief both there and at _lima_.' [sidenote: island discovered by edw. davis.] 'having recovered our fright, we kept on to the southward. we steered sbe / easterly, until we came to the latitude of ° ' s, when about two hours before day, we fell in with a small low sandy island, and heard a great roaring noise, like that of the sea beating upon the shore, right ahead of the ship. whereupon, fearing to fall foul upon the shore before day, the ship was put about. so we plied off till day, and then stood in again with the land, which proved to be a small flat island, without the guard of any rocks. we stood in within a quarter of a mile of the shore, and could see it plainly, for it was a clear morning. to the westward, about twelve leagues by judgement, we saw a range of high land, which we took to be islands, for there were several partitions in the prospect. this land seemed to reach about or leagues in a range, and there came thence great flocks of fowls. i, and many of our men would have made this land, and have gone ashore at it, but the captain would not permit us. the small island bears from _copiapo_ almost due east [west was intended] leagues, and from the _galapagos_ under the line is distant leagues[ ].' dampier was not present at this discovery; but he met his old commander afterwards, and relates information he received concerning it in the following words. 'captain davis told me lately, that after his departing from us at _ria lexa_, he went, after several traverses, to the _galapagos_, and that standing thence southward for wind to bring him about the _tierra del fuego_, in the latitude of ° s, about leagues from _copayapo_ on the coast of _chili_, he saw a small sandy island just by him; and that they saw to the westward of it a long tract of pretty high land, tending away toward the nw out of sight[ ].' [sidenote: question whether edward davis's land and easter island are the same land, or different.] the two preceding paragraphs contain the whole which either in wafer or dampier is said concerning this land. the apprehension of being late in the season for the passage round _cape horne_ seems to have deterred davis from making examination of his discovery. the latitude and specified distance from _copiapo_ were particulars sufficient to direct future search; and twenty-five years afterwards, jacob roggewein, a dutch navigator, guided by those marks, found land; but it being more distant from the american continent than stated by davis or wafer, roggewein claimed it as a new discovery. a more convenient place for discussing this point, which has been a lasting subject of dispute among geographers, would be in an account of roggewein's voyage; but a few remarks here may be satisfactory. wafer kept neither journal nor reckoning, his profession not being that of a mariner; and from circumstances which occur in davis's navigation to the _atlantic_, it may reasonably be doubted whether a regular reckoning or journal was kept by any person on board; and whether the leagues distance of the small island from the american coast mentioned by davis and wafer, was other than a conjectured distance. they had no superior by whom a journal of their proceedings would be required or expected. if a regular journal had really been kept, it would most probably have found its way to the press. jacob roggewein, the dutch admiral, was more than any other navigator, willing to give himself the credit of making new discoveries, as the following extracts from the journal of his expedition will evince. 'we looked for _hawkins's maiden land_, but could not find it; but we discovered an island leagues in circuit, in latitude ° s, about leagues distant to the east of the coast of _south america_, which we named _belgia austral_.' that is as much as to say, admiral roggewein could not find _hawkins's maiden land_; but he discovered land on the same spot, which he named _belgia austral_. afterwards, proceeding in the same disposition, the journal relates, 'we directed our course from _juan fernandez_ towards _davis's land_, but to the great astonishment of the admiral (roggewein) it was not seen. i think we either missed it, or that there is no such land. we went on towards the west, and on the anniversary of the resurrection of our saviour, we came in sight of an island. we named it _paaschen_ or _oster eylandt_ (i. e. easter island).' _paaschen_ or _easter island_ according to modern charts and observations, is nearly leagues distant from _copiapo_, which is in the same parallel on the continent of _america_. the statement of davis and wafer makes the distance only leagues, which is a difference of leagues. it is not probable that davis could have had good information of the longitudes of the _galapagos islands_ and _copiapo_; but with every allowance, so large an error as leagues in a run of leagues might be thought incredible, if its possibility had not been demonstrated by a much greater being made by the same persons in this same homeward passage; as will be related. in the latitude and appearance of the land, the descriptions of davis and wafer are correct, _easter island_ being a mountainous land, which will make partitions in the distant prospect and appear like a number of islands. roggewein's claim to _paaschen_ or _easter island_ as a new discovery has had countenance and support from geographers, some of the first eminence, but has been made a subject of jealous contest, and not of impartial investigation. if roggewein discovered an island farther to the west of the american coast than _davis's land_, it must follow that davis's land lies between his discovery and the continent; but that part of the _south sea_ has been so much explored, that if any high land had existed between _easter island_ and the american coast, it could not have escaped being known. there is not the least improbability that ships, in making a passage from the _galapagos isles_ through the south east trade-wind, shall come into the neighbourhood of _easter island_. edward davis has generally been thought a native of _england_, but according to lussan, and nothing appears to the contrary, he was a native of _holland_. the majority of the buccaneers in the ship, however, were british. how far to that source may be traced the disposition to refuse the buccaneers the credit of the discovery, and how much national partialities have contributed to the dispute, may be judged from this circumstance, that _easter island_ being _davis's land_ has never been doubted by british geographers, and has been questioned only by those of other nations. the merit of the discovery is nothing, for the buccaneers were not in search of land, but came without design in sight of it, and would not look at what they had accidentally found. and whether the discovery is to be attributed to edward davis or to his crew, ought to be esteemed of little concern to the nations of which they were natives, seeing the discoverers were men outlawed, and whose acts were disowned by the governments of their countries. passing from considerations of claims to consideration of the fact;--there is not the smallest plea for questioning, nor has any one questioned the truth of the buccaneers having discovered a high island west of the american coast, in or near the latitude of ° s. if different from _easter island_, it must be supposed to be situated between that and the continent. but however much it has been insisted or argued that _easter island_ is not _davis's land_, no chart has yet pretended to shew two separate islands, one for edward davis's discovery, and one for roggewein's. the one island known has been in constant requisition for double duty; and must continue so until another island of the same description shall be found. [sidenote: . at the island juan fernandez.] davis arrived at _juan fernandez_ 'at the latter end of the year,' and careened there. since the buccaneers were last at the island, the spaniards had put dogs on shore, for the purpose of killing the goats. many, however, found places among precipices, where the dogs could not get at them, and the buccaneers shot as many as served for their daily consumption. here again, five men of davis's crew, who had gamed away their money, 'and were unwilling to return out of these seas as poor as they came in,' determined on staying at _juan fernandez_, to take the chance of some other buccaneer ship, or privateer, touching at the island. a canoe, arms, ammunition, and various implements were given to them, with a stock of maize for planting, and some for their immediate subsistence; and each of these gentlemen had a negro attendant landed with him. from _juan fernandez_, davis sailed to the islands _mocha_ and _santa maria_, near the continent, where he expected to have procured provisions, but he found both those islands deserted and laid waste, the spaniards having obliged the inhabitants to remove, that the buccaneers might not obtain supply there. the season was advanced, therefore without expending more time in searching for provisions, they bent their course southward. they passed round _cape horne_ without seeing land, but fell in with many islands of ice, and ran so far eastward before they ventured to steer a northerly course, that afterwards, when, in the parallel of the _river de la plata_, they steered westward to make the american coast, which they believed to be only one hundred leagues distant, they sailed 'four hundred and fifty leagues to the west in the same latitude,' before they came in sight of land; whence many began to apprehend they were still in the _south sea_[ ], and this belief would have gained ground, if a flight of locusts had not alighted on the ship, which a strong flurry of wind had blown off from the american coast. [sidenote: . davis sails to the west indies.] they arrived in the _west indies_ in the spring of the year , at a time when a proclamation had recently been issued, offering the king's pardon to all buccaneers who would quit that way of life, and claim the benefit of the proclamation. it was not the least of fortune's favours to this crew of buccaneers, that they should find it in their power, without any care or forethought of their own, to terminate a long course of piratical adventures in quietness and security. edward davis was afterwards in _england_, as appears by the notice given of his discovery by william dampier, who mentions him always with peculiar respect. though a buccaneer, he was a man of much sterling worth; being an excellent commander, courageous, never rash, and endued in a superior degree with prudence, moderation, and steadiness; qualities in which the buccaneers generally have been most deficient. his character is not stained with acts of cruelty; on the contrary, wherever he commanded, he restrained the ferocity of his companions. it is no small testimony of his abilities that the whole of the buccaneers in the _south sea_ during his time, in every enterprise wherein he bore part, voluntarily placed themselves under his guidance, and paid him obedience as their leader; and no symptom occurs of their having at any time wavered in this respect, or shewn inclination to set up a rival authority. it may almost be said, that the only matter in which they were not capricious was their confidence in his management; and in it they found their advantage, if not their preservation. chap. xviii. _adventures of =swan= and =townley= on the coast of =new spain=, until their separation._ [sidenote: swan and townley.] the south sea adventures of the buccaneer chief davis being brought to a conclusion, the next related will be those of swan and his crew in the cygnet, they being the first of the buccaneers who after the battle in the _bay of panama_ left the _south sea_. william dampier who was in swan's ship, kept a journal of their proceedings, which is published, and the manuscript also has been preserved. [sidenote: . august.] swan and townley, the reader may recollect, were left by edward davis in the harbour of _ria lexa_, in the latter part of august , and had agreed to keep company together westward towards the entrance of the _gulf of california_. [sidenote: bad water, and unhealthiness of ria lexa.] they remained at _ria lexa_ some days longer to take in fresh water, 'such as it was,' and they experienced from it the same bad effects which it had on davis's men; for, joined to the unwholesomeness of the place, it produced a malignant fever, by which several were carried off. [sidenote: september. on the coast of new spain.] on september the d, they put to sea, four sail in company, i. e. the cygnet, townley's ship, and two tenders; the total of the crews being men. [sidenote: tornadoes.] the season was not favourable for getting westward along this coast. westerly winds were prevalent, and scarcely a day passed without one or two violent tornadoes, which were accompanied with frightful flashes of lightning, and claps of thunder, 'the like,' says dampier, 'i did never meet with before nor since.' these tornadoes generally came out of the ne, very fierce, and did not last long. when the tornado was passed, the wind again settled westward. on account of these storms, swan and townley kept a large offing; but towards the end of the month, the weather became settled. on the th, townley, and men in nine canoes, went on westward, whilst the ships lay by two days with furled sails, to give them time to get well forward, by which they would come the more unexpectedly upon any place along the coast. [sidenote: october.] townley proceeded, without finding harbour or inlet, to the bay of _tecuantepeque_, where putting ashore at a sandy beach, the canoes were all overset by the surf, one man drowned, and some muskets lost. townley however drew the canoes up dry, and marched into the country; but notwithstanding that they had not discovered any inlet on the coast, they found the country intersected with great creeks not fordable, and were forced to return to their canoes. a body of spaniards and indians came to reconnoitre them, from the town of _tecuantepeque_, to seek which place was the chief purpose of the buccaneers when they landed. 'the spanish books,' says dampier, 'mention a large river there, but whether it was run away at this time, or rather that captain townley and his men were shortsighted, i know not; but they did not find it.' october the d, the canoes returned to the ships. the wind was fresh and fair from the ene, and they sailed westward, keeping within short distance of the shore, but found neither harbour nor opening. they had soundings all the way, the depth being fathoms, a coarse sandy bottom, at eight miles distance from the land. [sidenote: island tangola.] having run about leagues along the coast, they came to a small high island called _tangola_, on which they found wood and water; and near it, good anchorage. 'this island is about a league distant from the main, which is pretty high, and savannah land by the sea; but within land it is higher and woody.'---- [sidenote: guatulco. el buffadore, a spouting rock.] 'we coasted a league farther, and came to _guatulco_, in latitude ° ', which is one of the best ports in this kingdom of _mexico_. near a mile from the mouth of the harbour, on the east side, is a little island close by the main-land. on the west side of the mouth of the harbour, is a great hollow rock, which by the continual working of the sea in and out, makes a great noise, and may be heard a great way; every surge that comes in, forces the water out at a little hole at the top, as out of a pipe, from whence it flies out just like the blowing of a whale, to which the spaniards liken it, and call it _el buffadore_. even at the calmest seasons, the beating of the sea makes the waterspout out at the hole, so that this is always a good mark to find the harbour of _guatulco_ by. [sidenote: the harbour of guatulco.] the harbour runs in nw, is about three miles deep, and one mile broad. the west side of the harbour is the best for small ships to ride in: any where else you are open to sw winds, which often blow here. there is clean ground any where, and good gradual soundings from to fathoms: it is bounded by a smooth sandy shore, good for landing; and at the bottom of the harbour is a fine brook of fresh water running into the sea. the country is extraordinary pleasant and delightful to behold at a distance[ ].' there appeared to be so few inhabitants at this part of the coast, that the buccaneers were not afraid to land their sick. a party of men went eastward to seek for houses and inhabitants, and at a league distance from _guatulco_ they found a river, named by the spaniards _el capalita_, which had a swift current, and was deep at the entrance. they took a few indians prisoners, but learnt nothing of the country from them. [sidenote: vinello, or vanilla, a plant.] on the th, townley with men marched fourteen miles inland, and in all that way found only one small indian village, the inhabitants of which cultivated and cured a plant called _vinello_, which grows on a vine, and is used to perfume chocolate, and sometimes tobacco. the th, the canoes were sent westward; and on the th, the ships followed, the crews being well recovered of the _ria lexa_ fever. 'the coast (from _guatulco_) lies along west and a little southerly for or leagues[ ].' [sidenote: island sacrificio.] on account of a current which set eastward, they anchored near a small green island named _sacrificio_, about a league to the west of _guatulco_, and half a mile from the main. in the channel between, was five or six fathoms depth, and the tide ran there very swift. [sidenote: port de angeles.] they advanced westward; but slowly. the canoes were again overset in attempting to land near _port de angeles_, at a place where cattle were seen feeding, and another man was drowned. dampier says, 'we were at this time abreast of _port de angeles_, but those who had gone in the canoes did not know it, because the spaniards describe it to be as good a harbour as _guatulco_. it is a broad open bay with two or three rocks at the west side. there is good anchorage all over the bay in depth from to fathoms, but you are open to all winds till you come into fathoms, and then you are sheltered from the wsw, which is here the common trade-wind. here always is a great swell, and landing is bad. the place of landing is close by the west side, behind a few rocks. latitude ° n. the tide rises about five feet. the land round _port de angeles_ is pretty high, the earth sandy and yellow, in some places red.' the buccaneers landed at _port de angeles_, and supplied themselves with cattle, hogs, poultry, maize, and salt; and a large party of them remained feasting three days at a farm-house. the th, they sailed on westward. some of their canoes in seeking _port de angeles_ had been as far westward as _acapulco_. in their way back, they found a river, into which they went, and filled fresh water. afterwards, they entered a _lagune_ or lake of salt water, where fishermen had cured, and stored up fish, of which the buccaneers took away a quantity. [sidenote: adventure in a lagune.] on the evening of the th, swan and townley anchored in fathoms depth, near a small rocky island, six leagues westward of _port de angeles_, and about half a mile distant from the main land. the next day they sailed on, and in the night of the th, being abreast the lagune above mentioned, a canoe manned with twelve men was sent to bring off more of the fish. the entrance into the lagune was not more than pistol-shot wide, and on each side were rocks, high enough and convenient to skreen or conceal men. the spaniards having more expectation of this second visit than they had of the first, a party of them, provided with muskets, took station behind these rocks. they waited patiently till the canoe of the buccaneers was fairly within the lagune, and then fired their volley, and wounded five men. the buccaneer crew were not a little surprised, yet returned the fire; but not daring to repass the narrow entrance, they rowed to the middle of the lagune, where they lay out of the reach of shot. there was no other passage out but the one by which they had entered, which besides being so narrow was a quarter of a mile in length, and it was too desperate an undertaking to attempt to repass it. not knowing what else to do, they lay still two whole days and three nights in hopes of relief from the ships. it was not an uncommon circumstance among the buccaneers, for parties sent away on any particular design, to undertake some new adventure; the long absence of the canoe therefore created little surprise in the ships, which lay off at sea waiting without solicitude for her return; till townley's ship happening to stand nearer to the shore than the rest, heard muskets fired in the lagune. he then sent a strong party in his canoes, which obliged the spaniards to retreat from the rocks, and leave the passage free for the hitherto penned-up buccaneers. dampier gives the latitude of this lagune, 'about ° ' n.' [sidenote: november. alcatraz rock. white cliffs. river to the west of the cliffs.] they coasted on westward, with fair weather, and a current setting to the west. on november the d, they passed a rock called by the spaniards the _alcatraz_ (pelican.) 'five or six miles to the west of the rock are seven or eight white cliffs, which are remarkable, because there are none other so white and so thick together on all the coast. a dangerous shoal lies sbw from these cliffs, four or five miles off at sea. two leagues to the west of these cliffs is a pretty large river, which forms a small island at its mouth. the channel on the east side is shoal and sandy; the west channel is deep enough for canoes to enter.' the spaniards had raised a breastwork on the banks of this channel, and they made a show of resisting the buccaneers; but seeing they were determined on landing, they quitted the place; on which dampier honestly remarks, 'one chief reason why the spaniards are so frequently routed by us, though much our superiors in number, is, their want of fire-arms; for they have but few unless near their large garrisons.' [sidenote: snook, a fish.] a large quantity of salt intended for salting the fish caught in the lagune, was taken here. dampier says, 'the fish in these lagunes were of a kind called snooks, which are neither sea-fish nor fresh-water fish; it is about a foot long, round, and as thick as the small of a man's leg, has a pretty long head, whitish scales, and is good meat.' [sidenote: november th. high land of acapulco.] a mulatto whom they took prisoner told them that a ship of twenty guns had lately arrived at _acapulco_ from _lima_. townley and his crew had long been dissatisfied with their ship; and in hopes of getting a better, they stood towards the harbour of _acapulco_. on the th, they made the high land over _acapulco_, 'which is remarkable by a round hill standing between two other hills, both higher, the westernmost of which is the biggest and the highest, and has two hillocks like two paps at the top.' dampier gives the latitude of _acapulco_ ° n[ ]. this was not near the usual time either of the departure or of the arrival of the manila ships, and except at those times, _acapulco_ is almost deserted on account of the situation being unhealthy. _acapulco_ is described hot, unwholesome, pestered with gnats, and having nothing good but the harbour. merchants depart from it as soon as they have transacted their business. townley accordingly expected to bring off the _lima_ ship quietly, and with little trouble. in the evening of the th, the ships being then so far from land that they could not be descried, townley with men departed in twelve canoes for the harbour of _acapulco_. they did not reach _port marques_ till the second night; and on the third night they rowed softly and unperceived by the spaniards into _acapulco harbour_. they found the _lima_ ship moored close to the castle, and, after reconnoitring, thought it would not be in their power to bring her off; so they paddled back quietly out of the harbour, and returned to their ships, tired and disappointed. [sidenote: sandy beach, west of acapulco. hill of petaplan.] westward from the port of _acapulco_, they passed a sandy bay or beach above twenty leagues in length, the sea all the way beating with such force on the shore that a boat could not approach with safety. 'there was clean anchoring ground at a mile or two from the shore. at the west end of this bay, in ° ' n, is the hill of _petaplan_, which is a round point stretching out into the sea, and at a distance seems an island[ ].' this was reckoned twenty-five leagues from _acapulco_. a little to the west of the hill are several round white rocks. they sailed within the rocks, having fathoms depth, and anchored on the nw side of the hill. their mosquito men took here some small turtle and small jew-fish. they landed, and at an indian village took a mulatto woman and her children, whom they carried on board. they learnt from her that a caravan drawn by mules was going with flour and other goods to _acapulco_, but that the carrier had stopped on the road from apprehension of the buccaneers. [sidenote: chequetan.] the ships weighed their anchors, and ran about two leagues farther westward, to a place called _chequetan_, which dampier thus describes: 'a mile and a half from the shore is a small key (or island) and within it is a very good harbour, where ships may careen: here is also a small river of fresh water, and wood enough.' [sidenote: th. estapa.] on the th, in the morning, about a hundred buccaneers set off in search of the carrier, taking the woman prisoner for a guide. they landed a league to the west of _chequetan_, at a place called _estapa_, and their conductress led them through a wood, by the side of a river, about a league, which brought them to a savannah full of cattle; and here at a farm-house the carrier and his mules were lodged. he had packs of flour, some chocolate, small cheeses, and earthenware. the eatables, with the addition of eighteen beeves which they killed, the buccaneers laid on the backs of above fifty mules which were at hand, and drove them to their boats. a present of clothes was made to the woman, and she, with two of her children, were set at liberty; but the other child, a boy seven or eight years old, swan kept, against the earnest intreaties of the mother. dampier says, 'captain swan promised her to make much of him, and was as good as his word. he proved afterwards a fine boy for wit, courage, and dexterity.' [sidenote: st. hill of thelupan.] they proceeded westward along the coast, which was high land full of ragged hills, but with pleasant and fruitful vallies between. the th, they were abreast a hill, 'which towered above his fellows, and was divided in the top, making two small parts. it is in latitude ° ' n. the spaniards mention a town called _thelupan_ near this hill.' the th, the captains swan and townley went in the canoes with men, to seek the city of _colima_, which was reported to be a rich place: but their search was fruitless. they rowed leagues along shore, and found no good place for landing; neither did they see house or inhabitant, although they passed by a fine valley, called the _valley of maguella_, except that towards the end of their expedition, they saw a horseman, who they supposed had been stationed as a sentinel, for he rode off immediately on their appearance. they landed with difficulty, and followed the track of the horse on the sand, but lost it in the woods. [sidenote: th. volcano of colima. valley of colima.] on the th, they saw the volcano of _colima_, which is in about ° ' n latitude, five or six leagues from the sea, and appears with two sharp points, from each of which issued flames or smoke. the _valley of colima_ is ten or twelve leagues wide by the sea: it abounds in cacao-gardens, fields of corn, and plantain walks. the coast is a sandy shore, on which the waves beat with violence. eastward of the valley the land is woody. a river ran here into the sea, with a shoal or bar at its entrance, which boats could not pass. on the west side of the river was savannah land. [sidenote: december. salagua.] december the st, they were near the port of _salagua_, which dampier reckoned in latitude ° ' n. he says, 'it is only a pretty deep bay, divided in the middle with a rocky point, which makes, as it were, two harbours[ ]. ships may ride secure in either, but the west harbour is the best: the depth of water is or fathom, and a brook of fresh water runs into the sea there.' [sidenote: report of a great city named oarrah.] two hundred buccaneers landed at _salagua_, and finding a broad road which led inland, they followed it about four leagues, over a dry stony country, much overgrown with short wood, without seeing habitation or inhabitant; but in their return, they met and took prisoners two mulattoes, who informed them that the road they had been travelling led to a great city called _oarrah_, which was distant as far as a horse will travel in four days; and that there was no place of consequence nearer. the same prisoner said the _manila_ ship was daily expected to stop at this part of the coast to land passengers; for that the arrival of the ships at _acapulco_ from the _philippines_ commonly happened about christmas, and scarcely ever more than eight or ten days before or after. swan and townley sailed on for cape _corrientes_. many among the crews were at this time taken ill with a fever and ague, which left the patients dropsical. dampier says, the dropsy is a disease very common on this coast. he was one of the sufferers, and continued ill a long time; and several died of it. [sidenote: the land near cape corrientes. coronada hills. cape corrientes.] the coast southward of _cape corrientes_, is of moderate height, and full of white cliffs. the inland country is high and barren, with sharp peaked hills. northward of this rugged land, is a chain of mountains which terminates eastward with a high steep mountain, which has three sharp peaks and resembles a crown; and is therefore called by the spaniards _coronada_. on the th they came in sight of _cape corrientes_. when the _cape_ bore nbw, the _coronada_ mountain bore ene[ ]. on arriving off _cape corrientes_, the buccaneer vessels spread, for the advantage of enlarging their lookout, the cygnet taking the outer station at about ten leagues distance from the _cape_. provisions however soon became scarce, on which account townley's tender and some of the canoes were sent to the land to seek a supply. the canoes rowed up along shore against a northerly wind to the _bay de vanderas_; but the bark could not get round _cape corrientes_. [sidenote: th.] on the th, townley complained he wanted fresh water, whereupon the ships quitted their station near the cape, and sailed to some small islands called the _keys of chametly_, which are situated to the se of _cape corrientes_, to take in fresh water. the descriptions of the coast of _new spain_ given by dampier, in his account of his voyage with the buccaneers, contain many particulars of importance which are not to be found in any other publication. dampier's manuscript and the printed narrative frequently differ, and it is sometimes apparent that the difference is not the effect of inadvertence, or mistake in the press, but that it was intended as a correction from a reconsideration of the subject. [sidenote: keys or islands of chametly.] the printed narrative says at this part, 'these _keys_ or _islands_ of _chametly_ are about or leagues to the eastward of _cape corrientes_. they are small, low, woody, and environed with rocks. there are five of them lying in the form of a half moon, not a mile from the shore of the main, and between them and the main land is very good riding secure from any wind[ ].' in the manuscript it is said, 'the islands _chametly_ make a secure port. they lie eight or nine leagues from _port navidad_.' it is necessary to explain that dampier, in describing his navigation along the coast of _new spain_, uses the terms eastward and westward, not according to the precise meaning of the words, but to signify being more or less advanced along the coast from the _bay of panama_. by westward, he invariably means more advanced towards the _gulf of california_; by eastward, the contrary. [sidenote: form a convenient port.] the ships entered within the _chametly islands_ by the channel at the se end, and anchored in five fathoms depth, on a bottom of clean sand. they found there good fresh water and wood, and caught plenty of rock-fish with hook and line. no inhabitants were seen, but there were huts, made for the temporary convenience of fishermen who occasionally went there to fish for the inhabitants of the city of _la purificacion_. these islands, forming a commodious port affording fresh water and other conveniencies, from the smallness of their size are not made visible in the spanish charts of the coast of _new spain_ in present use[ ]. whilst the ships watered at the _keys_ or _isles of chametly_, a party was sent to forage on the main land, whence they carried off about bushels of maize. on the d, they left the _keys of chametly_, and returned to their cruising station off _cape corrientes_, where they were rejoined by the canoes which had been to the _bay de vanderas_. thirty-seven men had landed there from the canoes, who went three miles into the country, where they encountered a body of spaniards, consisting both of horse and foot. the buccaneers took benefit of a small wood for shelter against the attack of the horse, yet the spaniards rode in among them; but the spanish captain and some of their foremost men being killed, the rest retreated. four of the buccaneers were killed, and two desperately wounded. the spanish infantry were more numerous than the horse, but they did not join in the attack, because they were armed only with lances and swords; 'nevertheless,' says dampier, 'if they had come in, they would certainly have destroyed all our men.' the buccaneers conveyed their two wounded men to the water side on horses, one of which, when they arrived at their canoes, they killed and drest; not daring to venture into the savannah for a bullock, though they saw many grazing. [sidenote: . january. bay de vanderas.] swan and townley preserved their station off _cape corrientes_ only till the st of january, , when their crews became impatient for fresh meat, and they stood into the _bay de vanderas_, to hunt for beef. the depth of water in this bay is very great, and the ships were obliged to anchor in fathoms. [sidenote: valley of vanderas.] 'the _valley of vanderas_ is about three leagues wide, with a sandy bay against the sea, and smooth landing. in the midst of this bay (or beach) is a fine river, into which boats may enter; but it is brackish at the latter part of the dry season, which is in march, and part of april. the valley is enriched with fruitful savannahs, mixed with groves of trees fit for any use; and fruit-trees grow wild in such plenty as if nature designed this place only for a garden. the savannahs are full of fat bulls and cows, and horses; but no house was in sight.' here they remained hunting beeves, till the th of the month. two hundred and forty men landed every day, sixty of whom were stationed as a guard, whilst the rest pursued the cattle; the spaniards all the time appearing in large companies on the nearest hills. the buccaneers killed and salted meat sufficient to serve them two months, which expended all their salt. whilst they were thus occupied in the pleasant valley of _vanderas_, the galeon from _manila_ sailed past _cape corrientes_, and pursued her course in safety to _acapulco_. this they learnt afterwards from prisoners; but it was by no means unexpected: on the contrary, they were in general so fully persuaded it would be the consequence of their going into the _bay de vanderas_, that they gave up all intention of cruising for her afterwards. [sidenote: swan and townley part company.] the main object for which townley had gone thus far northward being disposed of, he and his crew resolved to return southward. some darien indians had remained to this time with swan: they were now committed to the care of townley, and the two ships broke off consortship, and parted company. chap. xix. _the =cygnet= and her crew on the coast of =nueva galicia=, and at the =tres marias islands=._ [sidenote: . january. coast of nuevo galicia.] swan and his crew determined before they quitted the american coast, to visit some spanish towns farther north, in the neighbourhood of rich mines, where they hoped to find good plunder, and to increase their stock of provisions for the passage across the _pacific_ to _india_. [sidenote: point ponteque.] january the th, the cygnet and her tender sailed from the _valley of vanderas_, and before night, passed _point ponteque_, the northern point of the _vanderas bay_. _point ponteque_ is high, round, rocky, and barren: at a distance it makes like an island. dampier reckoned it leagues distant, in a direction n ° w, from _cape corrientes_; the variation of the compass observed near the _cape_ being ° ' easterly[ ]. a league west from _point ponteque_ are two small barren islands, round which lie scattered several high, sharp, white rocks. the cygnet passed on the east side of the two islands, the channel between them and _point ponteque_ appearing clear of danger. 'the sea-coast beyond _point ponteque_ runs in ne, all ragged land, and afterwards out again nnw, making many ragged points, with small sandy bays between. the land by the sea is low and woody; but the inland country is full of high, sharp, rugged, and barren hills.' along this coast they had light sea and land breezes, and fair weather. they anchored every evening, and got under sail in the morning with the land-wind. [sidenote: january th. white rock, ° ' n.] on the th, they had sight of a small white rock, which had resemblance to a ship under sail. dampier gives its latitude ° ' n, and its distance from _cape corrientes_ leagues. it is three leagues from the main, with depth in the channel, near the island, twelve or fourteen fathoms. [sidenote: th. th.] the th, at noon, the latitude was ° ' n. the coast here lay in a nnw direction. the th, they steered 'nnw as the land runs.' at noon the latitude was ° ' n. the coast was sandy and shelving, with soundings at six fathoms depth a league distant. the sea set heavy on the shore. they caught here many cat-fish. [sidenote: th. chametlan isles, ° ' n.] on the th, they anchored a league to the east of a small groupe of isles, named the _chametlan isles_, after the name of the district or captainship (_alcaldia mayor_) in the province of _culiacan_, opposite to which they are situated. dampier calls them the _isles of chametly_, 'different from the _isles_ or _keys of chametly_ at which we had before anchored. these are six small islands in latitude ° ' n, about three leagues distant from the main-land[ ], where a salt lake has its outlet into the sea. their meridian distance from _cape corrientes_ is leagues [west.] the coast here, and for about ten leagues before coming abreast these islands, lies nw and se.' [sidenote: the penguin fruit.] on the _chametlan isles_ they found guanoes, and seals; and a fruit of a sharp pleasant taste, by dampier called the penguin fruit, 'of a kind which grows so abundantly in the _bay of campeachy_ that there is no passing for their high prickly leaves.' [sidenote: rio de sal, and salt-water lagune, ° ' n.] in the main-land, six or seven leagues nnw from the _isles of chametlan_, is a narrow opening into a _lagune_, with depth of water sufficient for boats to enter. this _lagune_ extends along the back of the sea-beach about leagues, and makes many low mangrove islands. the latitude given of the entrance above-mentioned is ° ' n, and it is called by the spaniards _rio de sal_. half a degree northward of _rio de sal_ was said to be the river _culiacan_, with a rich spanish town of the same name. swan went with the canoes in search of it, and followed the coast leagues from abreast the _chametlan isles_, without finding any river to the north of the _rio de sal_. all the coast was low and sandy, and the sea beat high on the shore. [sidenote: th.] the ships did not go farther within the _gulf_ than to ° ' n, in which latitude, on the th, they anchored in eight fathoms depth, three miles distant from the main-land; the meridian distance from _cape corrientes_ being leagues west, by dampier's reckoning. [sidenote: the mexican, a copious language.] in their return southward, swan with the canoes, entered the _rio de sal lagune_, and at an _estancian_ on the western side, they took the owner prisoner. they found in his house a few bushels of maize; but the cattle had been driven out of their reach. dampier relates, 'the old spanish gentleman who was taken at the _estancian_ near the _rio de sal_ was a very intelligent person. he had been a great traveller in the kingdom of _mexico_, and spoke the mexican language very well. he said it is a copious language, and much esteemed by the spanish gentry in those parts, and of great use all over the kingdom; and that many indian languages had some dependency on it.' [sidenote: mazatlan.] the town of _mazatlan_ was within leagues of the ne part of the _lagune_, and swan with men went thither. the inhabitants wounded some of the buccaneers with arrows, but could make no effectual resistance. there were rich mines near _mazatlan_, and the spaniards of _compostella_, which is the chief town in this district, kept slaves at work in them. the buccaneers however found no gold here, but carried off some indian corn. [sidenote: february d. rosario, an indian town.] february the d, the canoes went to an indian town called _rosario_, situated on the banks of a river and nine miles within its entrance. '_rosario_ was a fine little town of or houses, with a good church.' the river produced gold, and mines were in the neighbourhood; but here, as at _mazatlan_, they got no other booty than indian corn, of which they conveyed to their ships between and bushels. [sidenote: d. river rosario, ° ' n. sugar-loaf hill. caput cavalli.] on the d, the ships anchored near the _river rosario_ in seven fathoms oozy ground, a league from the shore; the latitude of the entrance of the river ° ' n. a small distance within the coast and bearing nebn from the ship, was a round hill like a sugar-loaf; and north westward of that hill, was another 'pretty long hill,' called _caput cavalli_, or the _horse's head_. [sidenote: th.] on the th, the canoes were sent to search for a river named the _oleta_, which was understood to lie in latitude ° ' n; but the weather proving foggy they could not find it. [sidenote: th. maxentelbo rock. hill of xalisco.] on the th, they anchored abreast the south point of the entrance of a river called the _river de santiago_, in seven fathoms soft oozy bottom, about two miles from the shore; a high white rock, called _maxentelbo_, bore from their anchorage wnw, distant about three leagues, and a high hill in the country, with a saddle or bending, called the _hill xalisco_, bore se. [sidenote: river of santiago, ° ' n.] 'the _river st. iago_ is in latitude ° ' n, the entrance lies east and west with the _rock maxentelbo_. it is one of the principal rivers on this coast: there is ten feet water on the bar at low-water; but how much the tide rises and falls, was not observed. the mouth of the river is nearly half a mile broad, with very smooth entering. within the entrance it widens, for three or four rivers meet there, and issue all out together. the water is brackish a great way up; but fresh water is to be had by digging two or three feet deep in a sandy bay just at the mouth of the river. northward of the entrance, and nebe from _maxentelbo_, is a round white rock.' 'between the latitudes ° ' and ° ' n, which includes the _river de santiago_, the coast lies nnw and sse[ ].' no inhabitants were seen near the entrance of the _river st. iago_, but the country had a fruitful appearance, and swan sent seventy men in four canoes up the river, to seek for some town or village. after two days spent in examining different creeks and rivers, they came to a field of maize which was nearly ripe, and immediately began to gather; but whilst they were loading the canoes, they saw an indian, whom they caught, and from him they learnt that at four leagues distance from them was a town named _s^{ta} pecaque_. with this information they returned to the ship; and the same evening, swan with eight canoes and men, set off for _s^{ta} pecaque_, taking the indian for a guide. this was on the th of the month. [sidenote: th.] they rowed during the night about five leagues up the river, and at six o'clock in the morning, landed at a place where it was about a pistol-shot wide, with pretty high banks on each side, the country plain and even. twenty men were left with the canoes, and swan with the rest marched towards the town, by a road which led partly through woodland, and partly through savannas well stocked with cattle. they arrived at the town by ten in the forenoon, and entered without opposition, the inhabitants having quitted it on their approach. [sidenote: town of s^{ta} pecaque.] the town of _santa pecaque_ was small, regularly built after the spanish mode, with a parade in the middle, and balconies to the houses which fronted the parade. it had two churches. the inhabitants were mostly spaniards, and their principal occupation was husbandry. it is distant from _compostella_ about leagues. _compostella_ itself was at that time reckoned not to contain more than seventy white families, which made about one-eighth part of its inhabitants. there were large storehouses, with maize, salt-fish, salt, and sugar, at _santa pecaque_, provisions being kept there for the subsistence of some hundreds of slaves who worked in silver mines not far distant. the chief purpose for which the cygnet had come so far north on this coast was to get provisions, and here was more than sufficient to supply her wants. for transporting it to their canoes, swan divided the men into two parties, which it was agreed should go alternately, one party constantly to remain to guard the stores in the town. the afternoon of the first day was passed in taking rest and refreshment, and in collecting horses. [sidenote: th.] the next morning, fifty-seven men, with a number of horses laden with maize, each man also carrying a small quantity, set out for the canoes, to which they arrived, and safely deposited their burthens. the spaniards had given some disturbance to the men who guarded the canoes, and had wounded one, on which account they were reinforced with seven men from the carrying party; and in the afternoon, the fifty returned to _santa pecaque_. only one trip was made in the course of the day. [sidenote: th.] on the morning of the th, the party which had guarded the town the day before, took their turn for carrying. they loaded horses, and every man had his burthen. this day they took a prisoner, who told them, that nearly a thousand men, of all colours, spaniards, indians, negroes, and mulattoes, were assembled at the town of _santiago_, which was only three leagues distant from _santa pecaque_. this information made captain swan of opinion, that separating his men was attended with much danger; and he determined that the next morning he would quit the town with the whole party. in the mean time he employed his men to catch as many horses as they could, that when they departed they might carry off a good load. [sidenote: february th.] on the th, swan called his men out early, and gave order to prepare for marching; but the greater number refused to alter the mode they had first adopted, and said they would not abandon the town until all the provision in it was conveyed to the canoes. swan was forced to acquiesce, and to allow one-half of the company to go as before. they had fifty-four horses laden; swan advised them to tie the horses one to another, and the men to keep in two bodies, twenty-five before, and the same number behind. his directions however were not followed: 'the men would go their own way, every man leading his horse.' the spaniards had before observed their careless manner of marching, and had prepared their plan of attack for this morning, making choice of the ground they thought most for their advantage, and placing men there in ambush. the buccaneer convoy had not been gone above a quarter of an hour when those who kept guard in the town, heard the report of guns. captain swan called on them to march out to the assistance of their companions; but some even then opposed him, and spoke with contempt of the danger and their enemies, till two horses, saddled, with holsters, and without riders, came galloping into the town frightened, and one had at its side a carabine newly discharged. [sidenote: buccaneers defeated and slain by the spaniards.] on this additional sign that some event had taken place which it imported them to know, swan immediately marched out of the town, and all his men followed him. when they came to the place where the engagement had happened, they beheld their companions that had gone forth from the town that morning, every man lying dead in the road, stripped, and so mangled that scarcely any one could be known. this was the most severe defeat the buccaneers suffered in all their _south sea_ enterprises. the party living very little exceeded the number of those who lay dead before them, yet the spaniards made no endeavour to interrupt their retreat, either in their march to the canoes, or in their falling down the river, but kept at a distance. 'it is probable,' says dampier, 'the spaniards did not cut off so many of our men without loss of many of their own. we lost this day fifty-four englishmen and nine blacks; and among the slain was my ingenious friend mr. ringrose, who wrote that part of the _history of the buccaneers_ which relates to captain sharp. he had engaged in this voyage as supercargo of captain swan's ship.'--'captain swan had been forewarned by his astrologer of the great danger they were in; and several of the men who went in the first party had opposed the division of their force: some of them foreboded their misfortune, and heard as they lay down in the church in the night, grievous groanings which kept them from sleeping[ ].' swan and his surviving crew were discouraged from attempting any thing more on the coast of _new galicia_, although they had laid up but a small stock of provisions. on the st, they sailed from the _river of st. jago_ for the south cape of _california_, where it was their intention to careen the ship; but the wind had settled in the nw quarter, and after struggling against it a fortnight, on the th of march, they anchored in a bay at the east end of the middle of the _tres marias islands_, in eight fathoms clean sand. [sidenote: march. at the middle island of the tres marias.] the next day, they took a birth within a quarter of a mile of the shore; the outer points of the bay bearing ene and ssw. none of the _tres marias islands_ were inhabited. swan named the one at which he had anchored, _prince george's island_. dampier describes them of moderate height, and the westernmost island to be the largest of the three. 'the soil is stony and dry, producing much of a shrubby kind of wood, troublesome to pass; but in some parts grow plenty of straight large cedars. [sidenote: a root used as food.] the sea-shore is sandy, and there, a green prickly plant grows, whose leaves are much like the penguin leaf; the root is like the root of the _sempervive_, but larger, and when baked in an oven is reckoned good to eat. the indians of _california_ are said to have great part of their subsistence from these roots. we baked some, but none of us greatly cared for them. they taste exactly like the roots of our english burdock boiled.' at this island were guanoes, raccoons, rabbits, pigeons, doves, fish, turtle, and seal. they careened here, and made a division of the store of provisions, two-thirds to the cygnet and one-third to the tender, 'there being one hundred eaters in the ship, and fifty on board the tender.' the maize they had saved measured bushels. [sidenote: a dropsy cured by a sand bath.] dampier relates the following anecdote of himself at this place. 'i had been a long time sick of a dropsy, a distemper whereof many of our men died; so here i was laid and covered all but my head in the hot sand. i endured it near half an hour, and then was taken out. i sweated exceedingly while i was in the sand, and i believe it did me much good, for i grew well soon after.' this was the dry season, and they could not find here a sufficient supply of fresh water, which made it necessary for them to return to the continent. before sailing, swan landed a number of prisoners, spaniards and indians, which would have been necessary on many accounts besides that of the scantiness of provisions, if it had been his design to have proceeded forthwith westward for the _east indies_; but as he was going again to the american coast, which was close at hand, the turning his prisoners ashore on a desolate island, appears to have been in revenge for the disastrous defeat sustained at _s^{ta} pecaque_, and for the spaniards having given no quarter on that occasion. [sidenote: bay of vanderas.] they sailed on the th, and two days after, anchored in the _bay of vanderas_ near the river at the bottom of the bay; but the water of this river was now brackish. search was made along the south shore of the bay, and two or three leagues towards _cape corrientes_, a small brook of good fresh water was found; and good anchorage near to a small round island which lies half a mile from the main, and about four leagues neastward of the cape. just within this island they brought the ships to anchor, in fathoms depth, the brook bearing from them e- / n half a mile distant, and _point ponteque_ nwbn six leagues. the mosquito men struck here nine or ten jew-fish, the heads and finny pieces of which served for present consumption, and the rest was salted for sea-store. the maize and salted fish composed the whole of their stock of eatables for their passage across the _pacific_, and at a very straitened allowance would scarcely be sufficient to hold out sixty days. chap. xx. _the =cygnet=. her passage across the =pacific ocean=. at the =ladrones=. at =mindanao=._ [sidenote: . march. the cygnet quits the american coast.] march the st, they sailed from the american coast, steering at first sw, and afterwards more westerly till they were in latitude ° n, in which parallel they kept. 'the kettle was boiled but once a day,' says dampier, 'and there was no occasion to call the men to victuals. all hands came up to see the quarter-master share it, and he had need to be exact. we had two dogs and two cats on board, and they likewise had a small allowance given them, and they waited with as much eagerness to see it shared as we did.' [sidenote: large flight of birds. lat. ° n. long. °.] in this passage they saw neither fish nor fowl of any kind, except at one time, when by dampier's reckoning they were miles west from _cape corrientes_, and then, numbers of the sea-birds called boobies were flying near the ships, which were supposed to come from some rocks not far distant. their longitude at this time may be estimated at about degrees from the meridian of greenwich[ ]. [sidenote: may st.] fortunately, they had a fresh trade-wind, and made great runs every day. 'on may the th, which,' says dampier, 'we begin to call the st, we were in latitude ° ' n, and steering west. [sidenote: shoals and breakers sbw- / w or leagues from the s end of guahan. bank de santa rosa.] at two p. m. the bark tender being two leagues ahead of the cygnet, came into shoal water, and those on board plainly saw rocks under her, but no land was in sight. they hauled on a wind to the southward, and hove the lead, and found but four fathoms water. they saw breakers to the westward. they then wore round, and got their starboard tacks on board and stood northward. the cygnet in getting up to the bark, ran over a shoal bank, where the bottom was seen, and fish among the rocks; but the ship ran past it before we could heave the lead. both vessels stood to the northward, keeping upon a wind, and sailed directly north, having the wind at ene, till five in the afternoon, having at that time run eight miles and increased our latitude so many minutes. we then saw the island _guam_ [_guahan_] bearing nne, distant from us about eight leagues, which gives the latitude of the island (its south end) ° ' n. we did not observe the variation of the compass at _guam_. at _cape corrientes_ we found it ° ' easterly, and an observation we made when we had gone about a third of the passage, shewed it to be the same. i am inclined to think it was less at _guam_[ ].' the shoal above mentioned is called by the spaniards the _banco de santa rosa_, and the part over which the cygnet passed, according to the extract from dampier, is about sbw- / w from the south end of _guahan_, distant ten or eleven leagues. [sidenote: at guahan.] an hour before midnight, they anchored on the west side of _guahan_, a mile from the shore. the spaniards had here a small fort, and a garrison of thirty soldiers; but the spanish governor resided at another part of the island. as the ships anchored, a spanish priest in a canoe went on board, believing them to be spaniards from _acapulco_. he was treated with civility, but detained as a kind of hostage, to facilitate any negociation necessary for obtaining provisions; and swan sent a present to the spanish governor by the indians of the canoe. no difficulty was experienced on this head. both spaniards, and the few natives seen here, were glad to dispose of their provisions to so good a market as the buccaneer ships. dampier conjectured the number of the natives at this time on _guahan_ not to exceed a hundred. in the last insurrection, which was a short time before eaton stopped at the _ladrones_, the natives, finding they could not prevail against the spaniards, destroyed their plantations, and went to other islands. 'those of the natives who remained in _guahan_,' says dampier, 'if they were not actually concerned in that broil, their hearts were bent against the spaniards; for they offered to carry us to the fort and assist us to conquer the island.' whilst swan lay at _guahan_, the spanish acapulco ship came in sight of the island. the governor immediately sent off notice to her of the buccaneer ships being in the road, on which she altered her course towards the south, and by so doing got among the shoals, where she struck off her rudder, and did not get clear for three days. the natives at _guahan_ told the buccaneers that the acapulco ship was in sight of the island, 'which,' says dampier, 'put our men in a great heat to go out after her, but captain swan persuaded them out of that humour.' [sidenote: flying proe, or sailing canoe.] dampier praises the ingenuity of the natives of the _ladrone islands_, and particularly in the construction of their sailing canoes, or, as they are sometimes called, their flying proes, of which he has given the following description. 'their proe or sailing canoe is sharp at both ends; the bottom is of one piece of good substance neatly hollowed, and is about feet long; the under, or keel part is made round, but inclining to a wedge; the upper part is almost flat, having a very gentle hollow, and is about a foot broad: from hence, both sides of the boat are carried up to about five feet high with narrow plank, and each end of the boat turns up round very prettily. but what is very singular, one side of the boat is made perpendicular like a wall, while the other side is rounding as other vessels are, with a pretty full belly. the dried husks of the cocoa-nuts serve for oakum. at the middle of the vessel the breadth aloft is four or five feet, or more, according to the length of the boat. the mast stands exactly in the middle, with a long yard that peeps up and down like a ship's mizen yard; one end of it reaches down to the head of the boat, where it is placed in a notch made purposely to keep it fast: the other end hangs over the stern. to this yard the sail is fastened, and at the foot of the sail is another small yard to keep the sail out square, or to roll the sail upon when it blows hard; for it serves instead of a reef to take up the sail to what degree they please. along the belly side of the boat, parallel with it, at about seven feet distance, lies another boat or canoe very small, being a log of very light wood, almost as long as the great boat, but not above a foot and a half wide at the upper part, and sharp like a wedge at each end. the little boat is fixed firm to the other by two bamboos placed across the great boat, one near each end, and its use is to keep the great boat upright from oversetting. they keep the flat side of the great boat against the wind, and the belly side, consequently, with its little boat, is upon the lee[ ]. the vessel has a head at each end so as to be able to sail with either foremost: they need not tack as our vessels do, but when they ply to windward and are minded to make a board the other way, they only alter the setting of the sail by shifting the end of the yard, and they take the broad paddle with which they steer instead of a rudder, to the other end of the vessel. i have been particular in describing these their sailing canoes, because i believe they sail the best of any boats in the world. i tried the swiftness of one of them with our log: we had twelve knots on our reel, and she ran it all out before the half-minute glass was half out. i believe she would run miles in an hour. it was very pleasant to see the little boat running so swift by the other's side. i was told that one of these proes being sent express from _guahan_ to _manila_, [a distance above leagues] performed the voyage in four days.' [sidenote: bread fruit.] dampier has described the bread-fruit, which is among the productions of the _ladrone islands_. he had never seen nor heard of it any where but at these islands. provisions were obtained in such plenty at _guahan_, that in the two vessels they salted above fifty hogs for sea use. the friar was released, with presents in return for his good offices, and to compensate for his confinement. [sidenote: june.] june the d, they sailed from _guahan_ for the island _mindanao_. the weather was uncertain: 'the westerly winds were not as yet in strength, and the easterly winds commonly over-mastered them and brought the ships on their way to _mindanao_.' [sidenote: eastern side of mindanao, and the island st. john.] there is much difference between the manuscript journal of dampier and the published narrative, concerning the geography of the east side of _mindanao_. the manuscript says, 'we arrived off _mindanao_ the st day of june; but being come in with the land, knew not what part of the island the city was in, therefore we run down to the northward, between _mindanao_ and _st. john_, and came to an anchor in a bay which lieth in six degrees north latitude.' in the printed narrative it is said, 'the st day of june, we arrived at the _island st. john_, which is on the east side of _mindanao_, and distant from it or leagues. it is in latitude about ° or ° north. this island is in length about leagues, stretching nnw and sse, and is in breadth about leagues in the middle of the island. the northernmost end is broader, and the southern narrower. this island is of good height, and is full of small hills. the land at the se end (where i was ashore) is of a black fat mould; and the whole island seems to partake of the same, by the vast number of large trees that it produceth, for it looks all over like one great grove. as we were passing by the se end, we saw a canoe of the natives under the shore, and one of our boats went after to have spoken with her, but she ran to the shore, and the people leaving her, fled to the woods. we saw no more people here, nor sign of inhabitant at this end. when we came aboard our ship again, we steered away for the island _mindanao_, which was fair in sight of us, it being about leagues distant from this part of _st. john's_. the d day, we came within a league of the east side of _mindanao_, and having the wind at se, we steered towards the north end, keeping on the east side till we came into the latitude of ° ' n, and there we anchored in a small bay, a mile from the shore, in fathoms, rocky foul ground; _mindanao_ being guarded on the east side by _st. john's island_, we might as reasonably have expected to find the harbour and city on this side as any where else; but coming into the latitude in which we judged the city might be, we found no canoes or people that indicated a city or place of trade being near at hand, though we coasted within a league of the shore[ ].' this difference between the manuscript and printed journal cannot well be accounted for. the most remarkable particular of disagreement is in the latitude of the bay wherein they anchored. at this bay they had communication with the inhabitants, and learnt that the _mindanao city_ was to the westward. they could not prevail on any mindanao man to pilot them; the next day, however, they weighed anchor, and sailed back southward, till they came to a part they supposed to be the se end of _mindanao_, and saw two small islands about three leagues distant from it. [sidenote: sarangan and candigar.] there is reason to believe that the two small islands here noticed were _sarangan_ and _candigar_; according to which, dampier's _island st. john_ will be the land named _cape san augustin_ in the present charts. and hence arises a doubt whether the land of _cape san augustin_ is not an island separate from _mindanao_. dampier's navigation between them does not appear to have been far enough to the northward to ascertain whether he was in a strait or a gulf. [sidenote: july. harbour or sound on the south coast of mindanao.] the wind blew constant and fresh from the westward, and it took them till the th of july to get into a harbour or sound a few leagues to the nw from the two small islands. this harbour or sound ran deep into the land; at the entrance it is only two miles across, but within it is three leagues wide, with seven fathoms depth, and there is good depth for shipping four or five leagues up, but with some rocky foul ground. on the east side of this bay are small rivers and brooks of fresh water. the country on the west side was uncultivated land, woody, and well stocked with wild deer, which had been used to live there unmolested, no people inhabiting on that side of the bay. near the shore was a border of savanna or meadow land which abounded in long grass. dampier says, 'the adjacent woods are a covert for the deer in the heat of the day; but mornings and evenings they feed in the open plains, as thick as in our parks in england. i never saw any where such plenty of wild deer. we found no hindrance to our killing as many as we pleased, and the crews of both the ships were fed with venison all the time we remained here.' they quitted this commodious port on the th; the weather had become moderate, and they proceeded westward for the river and city of _mindanao_. the southern part of the island appeared better peopled than the eastern part; they passed many fishing boats, 'and now and then a small village.' [sidenote: river of mindanao.] on the th, they anchored before the _river of mindanao_, in fathoms depth, the bottom hard sand, about two miles distant from the shore, and three or four miles from a small island which was without them to the southward. the river is small, and had not more than ten or eleven feet depth over the bar at spring tides. dampier gives the latitude of the entrance ° ' n. [sidenote: city of mindanao.] the buccaneer ships on anchoring saluted with seven guns, under english colours, and the salute was returned with three guns from the shore. 'the city of _mindanao_ is about two miles from the sea. it is a mile long, of no great breadth, winding with the banks of the river, on the right hand going up, yet it has many houses on the opposite side of the river.' the houses were built upon posts, and at this time, as also during a great part of the succeeding month, the weather was rainy, and 'the city seemed to stand as in a pond, so that there was no passing from one house to another but in canoes.' the island _mindanao_ was divided into a number of small states. the port at which the cygnet and her tender now anchored, with a large district of country adjacent, was under the dominion of a sultan or prince, who appears to have been one of the most powerful in the island. the spaniards had not established their dominion over all the _philippine islands_, and the inhabitants of this place were more apprehensive of the hollanders than of any other europeans; and on that account expressed some discontent when they understood the cygnet was not come for the purpose of making a settlement. on the afternoon of their arrival, swan sent an officer with a present to the sultan, consisting of scarlet cloth, gold lace, a scymitar, and a pair of pistols; and likewise a present to another great man who was called the general, of scarlet cloth and three yards of silver lace. the next day, captain swan went on shore and was admitted to an audience in form. the sultan shewed him two letters from english merchants, expressing their wishes to establish a factory at _mindanao_, to do which he said the english should be welcome. a few days after this audience, the cygnet and tender went into the river, the former being lightened first to get her over the bar. here, similar to the custom in the ports of _china_, an officer belonging to the sultan went on board and measured the ships. voyagers or travellers who visit strange countries, generally find, or think, it necessary to be wary and circumspect: mercantile voyagers are on the watch for occasions of profit, and the inquisitiveness of men of observation will be regarded with suspicion; all which, however familiarity of manners may be assumed, keeps cordiality at a distance, and causes them to continue strangers. the present visitors were differently circumstanced and of different character: their pursuits at _mindanao_ were neither to profit by trade nor to make observation. long confined with pockets full of money which they were impatient to exchange for enjoyment, with minds little troubled by considerations of economy, they at once entered into familiar intercourse with the natives, who were gained almost as much by the freedom of their manners as by their presents, and with whom they immediately became intimates and inmates. the same happened to drake and his companions, when, returning enriched with spoil from the _south sea_, they stopped at the island _java_; and we read no instance of europeans arriving at such sociable and friendly intercourse with any of the natives of _india_, as they became with the people of _java_ during the short time they remained there, except in the similarly circumstanced, instance of the crew of the cygnet among the mindanayans. by the length of their stay at _mindanao_, dampier was enabled to enter largely into descriptions of the natives, and of the country, and he has related many entertaining particulars concerning them. those only in which the buccaneers were interested will be noticed here. the buccaneers were at first prodigal in their gifts. when any of them went on shore, they were welcomed and invited to the houses, and were courted to form particular attachments. among many nations of the east a custom has been found to prevail, according to which, a stranger is expected to choose some individual native to be his friend or comrade; and a connexion so formed, and confirmed with presents, is regarded, if not as sacred, with such high respect, that it is held most dishonourable to break it. the visitor is at all times afterwards welcome to his comrade's house. the _tayoship_, with the ceremony of exchanging names, among the south sea islanders, is a bond of fellowship of the same nature. the people of _mindanao_ enlarged and refined upon this custom, and allowed to the stranger a _pagally_, or platonic friend of the other sex. the wives of the richest men may be chosen, and she is permitted to converse with her pagally in public. 'in a short time,' says dampier, 'several of our men, such as had good clothes and store of gold, had a comrade or two, and as many pagallies.' some of the crew hired, and some purchased, houses, in which they lived with their comrades and pagallies, and with a train of servants, as long as their means held out. 'many of our squires,' continues dampier, 'were in no long time eased of the trouble of counting their money. this created a division of the crew into two parties, that is to say, of those who had money, and those who had none. as the latter party increased, they became dissatisfied and unruly for want of action, and continually urged the captain to go to sea; which not being speedily complied with, they sold the ship's stores and the merchants' goods to procure arrack.' those whose money held out, were not without their troubles. the mindanayans were a people deadly in their resentments. whilst the cygnet lay at _mindanao_, sixteen buccaneers were buried, most of whom, dampier says, died by poison. 'the people of _mindanao_ are expert at poisoning, and will do it upon small occasions. nor did our men want for giving offence either by rogueries, or by familiarities with their women, even before their husbands' faces. they have poisons which are slow and lingering; for some who were poisoned at _mindanao_, did not die till many months after.' towards the end of the year they began to make preparation for sailing. it was then discovered that the bottom of the tender was eaten through by worms in such a manner that she would scarcely swim longer in port, and could not possibly be made fit for sea. the cygnet was protected by a sheathing which covered her bottom, the worms not being able to penetrate farther than to the hair which was between the sheathing and the main plank. [sidenote: january, .] in the beginning of january ( ), the cygnet was removed to without the bar of the river. whilst she lay there, and when captain swan was on shore, his journal was accidentally left out, and thereby liable to the inspection of the crew, some of whom had the curiosity to look in it, and found there the misconduct of several individuals on board, noted down in a manner that seemed to threaten an after-reckoning. this discovery increased the discontents against swan to such a degree, that when he heard of it he did not dare to trust himself on board, and the discontented party took advantage of his absence and got the ship under sail. captain swan sent on board mr. harthope, one of the supercargoes, to see if he could effect a reconciliation. the principal mutineers shewed to mr. harthope the captain's journal, 'and repeated to him all his ill actions, and they desired that he would take the command of the ship; but he refused, and desired them to tarry a little longer whilst he went on shore and communed with the captain, and he did not question but all differences would be reconciled. they said they would wait till two o'clock; but at four o'clock, mr. harthope not having returned, and no boat being seen coming from the shore, they made sail and put to sea with the ship, leaving their commander and of the crew at _mindanao_.' dampier was among those who went in the ship; but he disclaims having had any share in the mutiny. chap. xxi. _the =cygnet= departs from =mindanao=. at the =ponghou isles=. at the =five islands=. =dampier's= account of the =five islands=. they are named the =bashee islands=._ [sidenote: . january. south coast of mindanao.] it was on the th of january the cygnet sailed from before the _river mindanao_. the crew chose one john reed, a jamaica man, for their captain. they steered westward along the coast of the south side of the island, 'which here tends wbs, the land of a good height, with high hills in the country.' the th, they were abreast a town named _chambongo_ [in the charts _samboangan_] which dampier reckoned to be leagues distant from the _river of mindanao_. the spaniards had formerly a fort there, and it is said to be a good harbour. 'at the distance of two or three leagues from the coast, are many small low islands or keys; and two or three leagues to the southward of these keys is a long island stretching ne and sw about twelve leagues[ ].' [sidenote: among the philippine islands.] when they were past the sw part of _mindanao_, they sailed northward towards _manila_, plundering the country vessels that came in their way. what was seen here of the coasts is noticed slightly and with uncertainty. they met two mindanao vessels laden with silks and calicoes; and near _manila_ they took some spanish vessels, one of which had a cargo of rice. [sidenote: march. pulo condore.] from the _philippine islands_ they went to the island _pulo condore_, where two of the men who had been poisoned at _mindanao_, died. 'they were opened by the surgeon, in compliance with their dying request, and their livers were found black, light, and dry, like pieces of cork.' [sidenote: in the china seas.] from _pulo condore_ they went cruising to the _gulf of siam_, and to different parts of the _china seas_. what their success was, dampier did not think proper to tell, for it would not admit of being palliated under the term buccaneering. among their better projects and contrivances, one, which could only have been undertaken by men confident in their own seamanship and dexterity, was to search at the _prata island and shoal_, for treasure which had been wrecked there, the recovery of which no one had ever before ventured to attempt. in pursuit of this scheme, they unluckily fell too far to leeward, and were unable to beat up against the wind. [sidenote: july. ponghou isles. the five islands.] in july they went to the _ponghou islands_, expecting to find there a port which would be a safe retreat. on the th of that month, they anchored at one of the islands, where they found a large town, and a tartar garrison. this was not a place where they could rest with ease and security. having the wind at sw, they again got under sail, and directed their course to look for some islands which in the charts were laid down between _formosa_ and _luconia_, without any name, but marked with the figure to denote their number. these buccaneers, or rather pirates, had no other information concerning the _five islands_ than seeing them on the charts, and hoped to find them without inhabitants. dampier's account of the _five islands_ would lose in many respects if given in any other than his own words, which therefore are here transcribed. [sidenote: dampier's description of the five islands.] 'august the th, we made the _islands_; the wind was at south, and we fetched in with the westernmost, which is the largest, on which we saw goats, but could not get anchor-ground, therefore we stood over to others about three leagues from this, and the next forenoon anchored in a small bay on the east side of the easternmost island in fifteen fathoms, a cable's length from the shore; and before our sails were furled we had a hundred small boats aboard, with three, four, and some with six men in them. [sidenote: august th.] there were three large towns on the shore within the distance of a league. most of our people being aloft (for we had been forced to turn in close with all sail abroad, and when we anchored, furled all at once) and our deck being soon full of indian natives, we were at first alarmed, and began to get our small-arms ready; but they were very quiet, only they picked up such old iron as they found upon our deck. at last, one of our men perceived one of them taking an iron pin out of a gun-carriage, and laid hold of him, upon which he bawled out, and the rest leaped into their boats or overboard, and they all made away for the shore. but when we perceived their fright, we made much of him we had in hold, and gave him a small piece of iron, with which we let him go, and he immediately leaped overboard and swam to his consorts, who hovered near the ship to see the issue. some of the boats came presently aboard again, and they were always afterward very honest and civil. we presently after this, sent our canoe on shore, and they made the crew welcome with a drink they call bashee, and they sold us some hogs. we bought a fat goat for an old iron hoop, a hog of or _lbs._ weight for two or three pounds of iron, and their bashee drink and roots for old nails or bullets. their hogs were very sweet, but many were meazled. we filled fresh water here at a curious brook close by the ship. 'we lay here till the th, when we weighed to seek for a better anchoring place. we plied to windward, and passed between the south end of this island and the north end of another island south of this. these islands were both full of inhabitants, but there was no good riding. we stopped a tide under the southern island. the tide runs there very strong, the flood to the north, and it rises and falls eight feet. it was the th day of the month before we found a place we might anchor at and careen, which was at another island not so big as either of the former. [illustration: map of the bashee islands.] 'we anchored near the north east part of this smaller island, against a small sandy bay, in seven fathoms clean hard sand, a quarter of a mile from the shore. we presently set up a tent on shore, and every day some of us went to the towns of the natives, and were kindly entertained by them. their boats also came on board to traffic with us every day; so that besides provision for present use, we bought and salted or good fat hogs, and laid up a good stock of potatoes and yams. [sidenote: names given to the islands. orange island.] 'these islands lie in ° ' n.[ ] as they are laid down in the charts marked only with a figure of , we gave them what names we pleased. the dutchmen who were among us named the westernmost, which is the largest, the _prince of orange's island_. it is seven or eight leagues long, about two leagues wide, and lies almost north and south. _orange island_ was not inhabited. it is high land, flat and even at the top, with steep cliffs against the sea; for which reason we could not go ashore there, as we did on all the rest. [sidenote: grafton island.] 'the island where we first anchored, we called the _duke of grafton's isle_, having married my wife out of his dutchess's family, and leaving her at arlington house at my going abroad. _grafton isle_ is about four leagues long, stretching north and south, and one and a half wide. [sidenote: monmouth island.] 'the other great island our seamen called the _duke of monmouth's island_. it is about three leagues long, and a league wide. [sidenote: goat island. bashee island. the drink called bashee.] 'the two smaller islands, which lie between _monmouth_, and the south end of _orange island_; the westernmost, which is the smallest, we called _goat island_, from the number of goats we saw there. the easternmost, at which we careened, our men unanimously called _bashee island_, because of the plentiful quantity of that liquor which we drank there every day. this drink called bashee, the natives make with the juice of the sugar-cane, to which they put some small black berries. it is well boiled, and then put into great jars, in which it stands three or four days to ferment. then it settles clear, and is presently fit to drink. this is an excellent liquor, strong, and i believe wholesome, and much like our english beer both in colour and taste. our men drank briskly of it during several weeks, and were frequently drunk with it, and never sick in consequence. [sidenote: the whole group named the bashee islands.] the natives sold it to us very cheap, and from the plentiful use of it, our men called all these islands the _bashee islands_. [sidenote: rocks or small islands north of the five islands.] 'to the northward of the five islands are two high rocks.' [these rocks are not inserted in dampier's manuscript chart, and only one of them in the published chart; whence is to be inferred, that the other was beyond the limit of the chart.] [sidenote: natives described.] 'these islanders are short, squat, people, generally round visaged with thick eyebrows; their eyes of a hazel colour, small, yet bigger than those of the chinese; they have short low noses, their teeth white; their hair black, thick, and lank, which they wear short: their skins are of a dark copper colour. they wear neither hat, cap, nor turban to keep off the sun. the men had a cloth about their waist, and the women wore short cotton petticoats which reached below the knee. these people had iron; but whence it came we knew not. the boats they build are much after the fashion of our deal yawls, but smaller, and every man has a boat, which he builds himself. they have also large boats, which will carry or men each. 'they are neat and cleanly in their persons, and are withal the quietest and civilest people i ever met with. i could never perceive them to be angry one with another. i have admired to see or boats aboard our ship at a time, all quiet and endeavouring to help each other on occasion; and if cross accidents happened, they caused no noise nor appearance of distaste. when any of us came to their houses, they would entertain us with such things as their houses or plantations would afford; and if they had no bashee at home, would buy of their neighbours, and sit down and drink freely with us; yet neither then nor sober could i ever perceive them to be out of humour. 'i never observed them to worship any thing; they had no idols; neither did i perceive that one man was of greater power than another: they seemed to be all equal, only every man ruling in his own house, and children respecting and honouring their parents. yet it is probable they have some law or custom by which they are governed; for whilst we lay here, we saw a young man buried alive in the earth, and it was for theft, as far as we could understand from them. there was a great deep hole dug, and abundance of people came to the place to take their last farewell of him. one woman particularly made great lamentations, and took off the condemned person's ear-rings. we supposed her to be his mother. after he had taken leave of her, and some others, he was put into the pit, and covered over with earth. he did not struggle, but yielded very quietly to his punishment, and they crammed the earth close upon him, and stifled him. [sidenote: situations of their towns.] _monmouth_ and _grafton isles_ are very hilly with steep precipices; and whether from fear of pirates, of foreign enemies, or factions among their own clans, their towns and villages are built on the most steep and inaccessible of these precipices, and on the sides of rocky hills; so that in some of their towns, three or four rows of houses stand one above another, in places so steep that they go up to the first row with a ladder, and in the same manner ascend to every street upwards. _grafton_ and _monmouth islands_ are very thick set with these hills and towns. [sidenote: bashee islands.] the two small islands are flat and even, except that on _bashee island_ there is one steep craggy hill. the reason why _orange island_ has no inhabitants, though the largest and as fertile as any of these islands, i take to be, because it is level and exposed to attack; and for the same reason, _goat island_, being low and even, hath no inhabitants. we saw no houses built on any open plain ground. their houses are but small and low, the roofs about eight feet high. the vallies are well watered with brooks of fresh water. the fruits of these islands are plantains, bananas, pine-apples, pumpkins, yams and other roots, and sugar-canes, which last they use mostly for their bashee drink. here are plenty of goats, and hogs; and but a few fowls. they had no grain of any kind. [sidenote: september. th.] 'on the th of september, our ship was driven to sea, by a strong gale at nbw, which made her drag her anchors. six of the crew were on shore, who could not get on board. the weather continued stormy till the th. [sidenote: october.] the st of october, we recovered the anchorage from which we had been driven, and immediately the natives brought on board our six seamen, who related that after the ship was out of sight, the natives were more kind to them than they had been before, and tried to persuade them to cut their hair short, as was the custom among themselves, offering to each of them if they would, a young woman to wife, a piece of land, and utensils fit for a planter. these offers were declined, but the natives were not the less kind; on which account we made them a present of three whole bars of iron.' two days after this reciprocation of kindness, the buccaneers bid farewell to these friendly islanders. chap. xxii. _the =cygnet=. at the =philippines=, =celebes=, and =timor=. on the coast of =new holland=. end of the =cygnet=._ [sidenote: . october.] from the _bashee islands_, the cygnet steered at first ssw, with the wind at west, and on that course passed 'close to the eastward of certain small islands that lie just by the north end of the island _luconia_.' [sidenote: island near the se end of mindanao. candigar.] they went on southward by the east of the _philippine islands_. on the th, they were near a small low woody island, which dampier reckoned to lie east leagues from the se end of _mindanao_. the th, they anchored between the small islands _candigar_ and _sarangan_; but afterwards found at the nw end of the eastern of the two islands, a good and convenient small cove, into which they went, and careened the ship. they heard here that captain swan and those of the crew left with him, were still at the _city of mindanao_. [sidenote: december. th. near the sw end of timor.] the cygnet and her restless crew continued wandering about the eastern seas, among the _philippine islands_, to _celebes_, and to _timor_. december the th, steering a southerly course, they passed by the west side of _rotte_, and by another small island, near the sw end of _timor_. dampier says, 'being now clear of all the islands, and having the wind at west and wbn, we steered away ssw,[ ] intending to touch at _new holland_, to see what that country would afford us.' the wind blew fresh, and kept them under low sail; sometimes with only their courses set, and sometimes with reefed topsails. [sidenote: st.] the st at noon, their latitude was ° ' s. about ten o'clock at night, they tacked and stood to the northward for fear of a shoal, which their charts laid down in the track they were sailing, and in latitude ° ' s. [sidenote: . january. low island and shoal, sbw from the west end of timor.] at three in the morning, they tacked again and stood sbw and ssw. as soon as it was light, they perceived a low island and shoal right ahead. this shoal, by their reckoning, is in latitude ° ', and lies sbw from the west end of _timor_.[ ] 'it is a small spit of sand appearing just above the water's edge, with several rocks about it eight or ten feet high above water. it lies in a triangular form, each side in extent about a league and a half. we could not weather it, so bore away round the east end, and stood again to the southward, passing close by it and sounding, but found no ground. [sidenote: nw coast of new holland.] this shoal is laid down in our drafts not above or leagues from _new holland_; but we ran afterwards leagues making a course due south, before we fell in with the coast of _new holland_, which we did on january the th, in latitude ° ' s.' dampier remarks here, that unless they were set westward by a current, the coast of _new holland_ must have been laid down too far westward in the charts; but he thought it not probable that they were deceived by currents, because the tides on that part of the coast were found very regular; the flood setting towards the ne. [sidenote: in a bay on the nw coast of new holland.] the coast here was low and level, with sand-banks. the cygnet sailed along the shore nebe leagues, when she came to a point of land, with an island so near it that she could not pass between. a league before coming to this point, that is to say, westward of the point, was a shoal which ran out from the main-land a league. beyond the point, the coast ran east, and east southerly, making a deep bay with many islands in it. on the th, they anchored in this bay, about two miles from the shore, in fathoms. the th, they ran nearer in and anchored about four miles eastward of the point before mentioned, and a mile distant from the nearest shore, in fathoms depth, the bottom clean sand. people were seen on the land, and a boat was sent to endeavour to make acquaintance with them; but the natives did not wait. their habitations were sought for, but none were found. the soil here was dry and sandy, yet fresh water was found by digging for it. they warped the ship into a small sandy cove, at a spring tide, as far as she would float, and at low water she was high aground, the sand being dry without her half a mile; for the sea rose and fell here about five fathoms perpendicularly. during the neap tides, the ship lay wholly aground, the sea not approaching nearer than within a hundred yards of her. turtle and manatee were struck here, as much every day as served the whole crew. boats went from the ship to different parts of the bay in search of provisions. [sidenote: natives.] for a considerable time they met with no inhabitants; but at length, a party going to one of the islands, saw there about forty natives, men, women, and children. 'the island was too small for them to conceal themselves. the men at first made threatening motions with lances and wooden swords, but a musket was fired to scare them, and they stood still. the women snatched up their infants and ran away howling, their other children running after squeaking and bawling. some invalids who could not get away lay by the fire making a doleful noise; but after a short time they grew sensible that no mischief was intended them, and they became quiet.' those who had fled, soon returned, and some presents made, succeeded in rendering them familiar. dampier relates, 'we filled some of our barrels with water at wells, which had been dug by the natives, but it being troublesome to get to our boats, we thought to have made these men help us, to which end we put on them some old ragged clothes, thinking this finery would make them willing to be employed. we then brought our new servants to the wells, and put a barrel on the shoulders of each; but all the signs we could make were to no purpose, for they stood like statues, staring at one another and grinning like so many monkies. these poor creatures seem not accustomed to carry burthens, and i believe one of our ship-boys of ten years old would carry as much as one of their men. so we were forced to carry our water ourselves, and they very fairly put off the clothes again and laid them down. they had no great liking to them at first, neither did they seem to admire any thing that we had.' 'the inhabitants of this country are the most miserable people in the world. the hottentots compared with them are gentlemen. they have no houses, animals, or poultry. their persons are tall, straight-bodied, thin, with long limbs: they have great heads, round foreheads, and great brows. their eyelids are always half closed to keep the flies out of their eyes, for they are so troublesome here that no fanning will keep them from one's face, so that from their infancy they never open their eyes as other people do, and therefore they cannot see far, unless they hold up their heads as if they were looking at something over them. they have great bottle noses, full lips, wide mouths: the two fore-teeth of their upper jaw are wanting in all of them: neither have they any beards. their hair is black, short, and curled, and their skins coal black like that of the negroes in _guinea_. their only food is fish, and they constantly search for them at low water, and they make little weirs or dams with stones across little coves of the sea. at one time, our boat being among the islands seeking for game, espied a drove of these people swimming from one island to another; for they have neither boats, canoes, nor bark-logs. we always gave them victuals when we met any of them. but after the first time of our being among them, they did not stir for our coming.' it deserves to be remarked to the credit of human nature, that these poor people, in description the most wretched of mankind in all respects, that we read of, stood their ground for the defence of their women and children, against the shock and first surprise at hearing the report of fire-arms. [sidenote: march.] the cygnet remained at this part of _new holland_ till the th of march, and then sailed westward, for the west coast of _sumatra_. [sidenote: th. an island in lat. ° ' s.] on the th, they fell in with a small woody uninhabited island, in latitude ° ' s, and, by dampier's reckoning, ° ' of longitude from the part of _new holland_ at which they had been. there was too great depth of water every where round the island for anchorage. a landing-place was found near the sw point, and on the island a small brook of fresh water; but the surf would not admit of any to be taken off to the ship. large craw-fish, boobies, and men-of-war birds, were caught, as many as served for a meal for the whole crew. [sidenote: april. end of the cygnet.] april the th, they made the coast of _sumatra_. shortly after, at the _nicobar islands_, dampier and some others quitted the cygnet. read, the captain, and those who yet remained with him, continued their piratical cruising in the indian seas, till, after a variety of adventures, and changes of commanders, they put into _saint augustine's_ bay in the island of _madagascar_, by which time the ship was in so crazy a condition, that the crew abandoned her, and she sunk at her anchors. some of the men embarked on board european ships, and some engaged themselves in the service of the petty princes of that island. dampier returned to _england_ in . chap. xxiii. _french buccaneers under =françois grogniet= and =le picard=, to the death of =grogniet=._ [sidenote: the french buccaneers, from july .] having accompanied the cygnet to her end, the history must again be taken back to the breaking up of the general confederacy of buccaneers which took place at the island _quibo_, to give a connected narrative of the proceedings of the french adventurers from that period to their quitting the _south sea_. [sidenote: under grogniet.] three hundred and forty-one french buccaneers (or to give them their due, privateers, war then existing between _france_ and _spain_) separated from edward davis in july , choosing for their leader captain françois grogniet. they had a small ship, two small barks, and some large canoes, which were insufficient to prevent their being incommoded for want of room, and the ship was so ill provided with sails as to be disqualified for cruising at sea. they were likewise scantily furnished with provisions, and necessity for a long time confined their enterprises to the places on the coast of _new spain_ in the neighbourhood of _quibo_. the towns of _pueblo nuevo_, _ria lexa_, _nicoya_, and others, were plundered by them, some more than once, by which they obtained provisions, and little of other plunder, except prisoners, from whom they extorted ransom either in provisions or money. [sidenote: november.] in november, they attacked the town of _ria lexa_. whilst in the port, a spanish officer delivered to them a letter from the vicar-general of the province of _costa rica_, written to inform them that a truce for twenty years had been concluded between _france_ and _spain_. the vicar-general therefore required of them to forbear committing farther hostility, and offered to give them safe conduct over land to the _north sea_, and a passage to _europe_ in the galeons of his catholic majesty to as many as should desire it. this offer not according with the inclinations of the adventurers, they declined accepting it, and, without entering into enquiry, professed to disbelieve the intelligence. [sidenote: point de burica.] november the th, they were near the _point burica_. lussan says, 'we admired the pleasant appearance of the land, and among other things, a walk or avenue, formed by five rows of cocoa-nut trees, which extended in continuation along the coast leagues, with as much regularity as if they had been planted by line.' [sidenote: . january. chiriquita.] in the beginning of january , two hundred and thirty of these buccaneers went in canoes from _quibo_ against _chiriquita_, a small spanish town on the continent, between _point burica_ and the island _quibo_. _chiriquita_ is situated up a navigable river, and at some distance from the sea-coast. 'before this river are eight or ten islands, and shoals on which the sea breaks at low water; but there are channels between them through which ships may pass[ ].' the buccaneers arrived in the night at the entrance of the river, unperceived by the spaniards; but being without guides, and in the dark, they mistook and landed on the wrong side of the river. they were two days occupied in discovering the right way, but were so well concealed by the woods, that at daylight on the morning of the third day they came upon the town and surprised the whole of the inhabitants, who, says lussan, had been occupied the last two days in disputing which of them should keep watch, and go the rounds. lussan relates here, that himself and five others were decoyed to pursue a few spaniards to a distance from the town, where they were suddenly attacked by one hundred and twenty men. he and his companions however, he says, played their parts an hour and a half '_en vrai flibustiers_,' and laid thirty of the enemy on the ground, by which time they were relieved by the arrival of some of their friends. they set fire to the town, and got ransom for their prisoners: in what the ransom consisted, lussan has not said. [sidenote: at quibo.] their continuance in one station, at length prevailed on the spaniards to collect and send a force against them. they had taken some pains to instil into the spaniards a belief that they intended to erect fortifications and establish themselves at _quibo_. their view in this it is not easy to conjecture, unless it was to discourage their prisoners from pleading poverty; for they obliged those from whom they could not get money, to labour, and to procure bricks and materials for building to be sent for their ransom. on the th of january, a small fleet of spanish vessels approached the island _quibo_. the buccaneer ship was without cannon, and lay near the entrance of a river which had only depth sufficient for their small vessels. the buccaneers therefore took out of the ship all that could be of use, and ran her aground; and with their small barks and canoes took a station in the river. [sidenote: february.] the spaniards set fire to the abandoned ship, and remained by her to collect the iron-work; but they shewed no disposition to attack the french in the river; and on the st of february, they departed from the island. the buccaneers having lost their ship, set hard to work to build themselves small vessels. in this month of february, fourteen of their number died by sickness and accidents. [sidenote: march.] they had projected an attack upon _granada_ but want of present subsistence obliged them to seek supply nearer, and a detachment was sent with that view to the river of _pueblo nuevo_. some vessels of the spanish flotilla which had lately been at _quibo_, were lying at anchor in the river, which the flibustiers mistook for a party of the english buccaneers. [sidenote: unsuccessful attempt at pueblo nuevo.] in this belief they went within pistol-shot, and hailed, and were then undeceived by receiving for answer a volley of musketry. they fired on the spaniards in return, but were obliged to retreat, and in this affair they lost four men killed outright, and between and were wounded. preparatory to their intended expedition against _granada_, they agreed upon some regulations for preserving discipline and order, the principal articles of which were, that cowardice, theft, drunkenness, or disobedience, should be punished with forfeiture of all share of booty taken. on the evening of the d, they were near the entrance of the _gulf of nicoya_, in a little fleet, consisting of two small barks, a row-galley, and nine large canoes. a tornado came on in the night which dispersed them a good deal. at daylight they were surprised at counting thirteen sail in company, and before they discovered which was the strange vessel, five more sail came in sight. [sidenote: grogniet is joined by townley.] they soon joined each other, and the strangers proved to be a party of the buccaneers of whom townley was the head. townley had parted company from swan not quite two months before. his company consisted of men, embarked in a ship and five large canoes. townley had advanced with his canoes along the coast before his ship to seek provisions, he and his men being no better off in that respect than grogniet and his followers. on their meeting as above related, the french did not forget townley's former overbearing conduct towards them: they, however, limited their vengeance to a short triumph. lussan says, 'we now finding ourselves the strongest, called to mind the ill offices he had done us, and to shew him our resentment, we made him and his men in the canoes with him our prisoners. we then boarded his ship, of which we made ourselves masters, and pretended that we would keep her. we let them remain some time under this apprehension, after which we made them see that we were more honest and civilized people than they were, and that we would not profit of our advantage over them to revenge ourselves; for after keeping possession about four or five hours, we returned to them their ship and all that had been taken from them.' the english shewed their sense of this moderation by offering to join in the attack on _granada_, which offer was immediately accepted. [sidenote: april. expedition against the city of granada.] the city of _granada_ is situated in a valley bordering on the _lake of nicaragua_, and is about leagues distant from _leon_. the buccaneers were provided with guides, and to avoid giving the spaniards suspicion of their design, townley's ship and the two barks were left at anchor near _cape blanco_, whilst the force destined to be employed against _granada_ proceeded in the canoes to the place at which it was proposed to land, directions being left with the ship and barks to follow in due time. [sidenote: th.] the th of april, buccaneers landed from the canoes, about twenty leagues nw-ward of _cape blanco_, and began their march, conducted by the guides, who led them through woods and unfrequented ways. they travelled night and day till the th, in hopes to reach the city before they were discovered by the inhabitants, or their having landed should be known by the spaniards. the province of _nicaragua_, in which _granada_ stands, is reckoned one of the most fertile in _new spain_. the distance from where the buccaneers landed, to the city, may be estimated about miles. yet they expected to come upon it by surprise; and in fact they did travel the greater part of the way without being seen by any inhabitant. such a mark of the state of the population, corresponds with all the accounts given of the wretched tyranny exercised by the spaniards over the nations they have conquered. the buccaneers however were discovered in their second day's march, by people who were fishing in a river, some of whom immediately posted off with the intelligence. the spaniards had some time before been advertised by a deserter that the buccaneers designed to attack _granada_; but they were known to entertain designs upon so many places, and to be so fluctuating in their plans, that the spaniards could only judge from certain intelligence where most to guard against their attempts. [sidenote: th.] on the night of the th, fatigue and hunger obliged the buccaneers to halt at a sugar plantation four leagues distant from the city. one man, unable to keep up with the rest, had been taken prisoner. [sidenote: th.] the morning of the th, they marched on, and from an eminence over which they passed, had a view of the _lake of nicaragua_, on which were seen two vessels sailing from the city. these vessels the buccaneers afterwards learnt, were freighted with the richest moveables that at short notice the inhabitants had been able to embark, to be conveyed for security to an island in the lake which was two leagues distant from the city. _granada_ was large and spacious, with magnificent churches and well-built houses. the ground is destitute of water, and the town is supplied from the lake; nevertheless there were many large sugar plantations in the neighbourhood, some of which were like small towns, and had handsome churches. _granada_ was not regularly fortified, but had a place of arms surrounded with a wall, in the nature of a citadel, and furnished with cannon. the great church was within this inclosed part of the town. [sidenote: the city of nueva granada taken;] the buccaneers arrived about two o'clock in the afternoon, and immediately assaulted the place of arms, which they carried with the loss of four men killed, and eight wounded, most of them mortally. the first act of the victors, according to lussan, was to sing _te deum_ in the great church; and the next, to plunder. provisions, military stores, and a quantity of merchandise, were found in the town, the latter of which was of little or no value to the captors. [sidenote: th.] the next day they sent to enquire if the spaniards would ransom the town, and the merchandise. it had been rumoured that the buccaneers would be unwilling to destroy _granada_, because they proposed at some future period to make it their baiting place, in returning to the _north sea_, and the spaniards scarcely condescended to make answer to the demand for ransom. [sidenote: and burnt.] the buccaneers in revenge set fire to the houses. 'if we could have found boats,' says lussan, 'to have gone on the lake, and could have taken the two vessels laden with the riches of _granada_, we should have thought this a favourable opportunity for returning to the _west indies_.' [sidenote: th.] on the th, they left _granada_, to return to the coast, which journey they performed in the most leisurely manner. they took with them a large cannon, with oxen to draw it, and some smaller guns which they laid upon mules. the weather was hot and dry, and the road so clouded with dust, as almost to stifle both men and beasts. sufficient provision of water had not been made for the journey, and the oxen all died. the cannon was of course left on the road. towards the latter part of the journey, water and refreshments were procured at some villages and houses, the inhabitants of which furnished supplies as a condition that their dwellings should be spared. on the th, they arrived at the sea and embarked in their vessels, taking on board with them a spanish priest whom the spaniards would not redeem by delivering up their buccaneer prisoner. most of the men wounded in the granada expedition died of cramps. [sidenote: th, at ria lexa. may.] the th, they came upon _ria lexa_ unexpectedly, and made one hundred of the inhabitants prisoners. by such means, little could be gained more than present subsistence, and that was rendered very precarious by the spaniards removing their cattle from the coast. it was therefore determined to put an end to their unprofitable continuance in one place; but they could not agree where next to go. all the english, and one half of the french, were for sailing to the _bay of panama_. the other half of the french, in number, with grogniet at their head, declared for trying their fortunes north-westward. division was made of the vessels and provisions. the whole money which the french had acquired by their depredations amounted to little more than dollars, and this sum they generously distributed among those of their countrymen who had been lamed or disabled. [sidenote: grogniet and townley part company. buccaneers under townley.] may the th, they parted company. those bound for the _bay of panama_, of whom townley appears to have been regarded the head, had a ship, a bark, and some large canoes. townley proposed an attack on the town of _lavelia_ or _la villia_, at which place the treasure from the lima ships had been landed in the preceding year, and this proposal was approved. [sidenote: june.] tornadoes and heavy rains kept them among the _keys of quibo_ till the middle of june. on the th of that month, they arrived off the _punta mala_, and during the day, they lay at a distance from the land with sails furled. at night the principal part of their force made for the land in the canoes; but they had been deceived in the distance. finding that they could not reach the river which leads to _lavelia_ before day, they took down the sails and masts, and went to three leagues distance from the land, where they lay all the day of the st. lussan, who was of this party of buccaneers, says that they were obliged to practise the same manoeuvre on the day following. in the middle of the night of the d, buccaneers landed from the canoes at the entrance of the river. [sidenote: d. lavelia taken.] they were some hours in marching to _lavelia_, yet the town was surprised, and above of the inhabitants made prisoners. this was in admirable conformity with the rest of the management of the spaniards. the fleet from _lima_, laden with treasure intended for _panama_, had, more than a year before, landed the treasure and rich merchandise at _lavelia_, as a temporary measure of security against the buccaneers, suited to the occasion. the government at _panama_, and the other proprietors, would not be at the trouble of getting it removed to _panama_, except in such portions as might be required by some present convenience; and allowed a great part to remain in _lavelia_, a place of no defence, although during the whole time buccaneers had been on the coast of _veragua_, or _nicaragua_, to whom it now became an easy prey, through indolence and a total want of vigilance, as well in the proprietors as in those whom they employed to guard it. three spanish barks were riding in the river, one of which the crews sunk, and so dismantled the others that no use could be made of them; but the buccaneers found two boats in serviceable condition at a landing-place a quarter of a league below the town. the riches they now saw in their possession equalled their most sanguine expectations, and if secured, they thought would compensate for all former disappointments. the merchandise in _lavelia_ was estimated in value at a million and a half of piastres. the gold and silver found there amounted only to , piastres. the first day of being masters of _lavelia_, was occupied by the buccaneers in making assortments of the most valuable articles of the merchandise. the next morning, they loaded horses with bales, and a guard of men went with them to the landing-place where the two boats above mentioned were lying. in the way, one man of this escort was taken by the spaniards. the two prize boats were by no means large enough to carry all the goods which the buccaneers proposed to take from _lavelia_; and on that account directions had been dispatched to the people in the canoes at the entrance of the river to advance up towards the town. these directions they attempted to execute; but the land bordering the river was woody, which exposed the canoes to the fire of a concealed enemy, and after losing one man, they desisted from advancing. for the same cause, it was thought proper not to send off the two loaded boats without a strong guard, and they did not move during this day. the buccaneers sent a letter to the spanish alcalde, to demand if he would ransom the town, the merchandise, and the prisoners; but the alcalde refused to treat with them. [sidenote: the town set on fire.] in the afternoon therefore, they set fire to the town, and marched to the landing-place where the two boats lay, and there rested for the night. [sidenote: river of lavelia.] the river of _lavelia_ is broad, but shallow. vessels of forty tons can go a league and a half within the entrance. the landing-place is yet a league and a half farther up, and the town is a quarter of a mile from the landing-place[ ]. [sidenote: th.] on the morning of the th, the two boats, laden as deep as was safe, began to fall down the river, having on board nine men to conduct them. the main body of the buccaneers at the same time marched along the bank on one side of the river for their protection. a body of spaniards skreened by the woods, and unseen by the buccaneers, kept pace with them on the other side of the river, at a small distance within the bank. the buccaneers had marched about a league, and the boats had descended as far, when they came to a point of land on which the trees and underwood grew so thick as not to be penetrated without some labour and expence of time, to which they did not choose to submit, but preferred making a circuit which took them about a quarter of a mile from the river. the spaniards on the opposite side were on the watch, and not slow in taking advantage of their absence. they came to the bank, whence they fired upon the men in the laden boats, four of whom they killed, and wounded one; the other four abandoned the boats and escaped into the thicket. the spaniards took possession of the boats, and finding there the wounded buccaneer, they cut off his head and fixed it on a stake which they set up by the side of the river at a place by which the rest of the buccaneers would necessarily have to pass. the main body of the buccaneers regained the side of the river in ignorance of what had happened; and not seeing the boats, were for a time in doubt whether they were gone forward, or were still behind. the first notice they received of their loss was from the men who had escaped from the boats, who made their way through the thicket and joined them. thus did this crew of buccaneers, within a short space of time, win by circumspection and adroitness, and lose by negligence, the richest booty they had ever made. if quitting the bank of the river had been a matter of necessity, and unavoidable, there was nothing but idleness to prevent their conveying their plunder the remainder of the distance to their boats by land. in making their way through the woods, they found the rudder, sails, and other furniture of the spanish barks in the river; the barks themselves were near at hand, and the buccaneers embarked in them; but the flood tide making, they came to an anchor, and lay still for the night. [sidenote: june th.] the next morning, as they descended the river, they saw the boats which they had so richly freighted, now cleared of their lading and broken to pieces; and near to their wreck, was the head which the spaniards had stuck up. this spectacle, added to the mortifying loss of their booty, threw the buccaneers into a frenzy, and they forthwith cut off the heads of four prisoners, and set them on poles in the same place. in the passage down the river, four more of the buccaneers were killed by the firing of the spaniards from the banks. [sidenote: th.] the day after their retreat from the river of _lavelia_, a spaniard went off to them to treat for the release of the prisoners, and they came to an agreement that , pieces of eight should be paid for their ransom. some among them who had wives were permitted to go on shore that they might assist in procuring the money; but on the th, the same messenger again went off and acquainted them that the _alcalde major_ would not only not suffer the relations of the prisoners to send money for their ransom, but that he had arrested some of those whom the buccaneers had allowed to land. on receiving this report, these savages without hesitation cut off the heads of two of their prisoners, and delivered them to the messenger, to be carried to the _alcalde_, with their assurance that if the ransom did not speedily arrive, the rest of the prisoners would be treated in the same manner. the next day the ransom was settled for the remaining prisoners, and for one of the captured barks; the spaniards paying partly with money, partly with provisions and necessaries, and with the release of the buccaneer they had taken. in the agreement for the bark, the spaniards required a note specifying that if the buccaneers again met her, they should make prize only of the cargo, and not of the vessel. after the destruction of _lavelia_, it might be supposed that the perpetrators of so much mischief would not be allowed with impunity to remain in the _bay of panama_; but such was the weakness or negligence of the spaniards, that this small body of freebooters continued several months in this same neighbourhood, and at times under the very walls of the city. on another point, however, the spaniards were more active, and with success; for they concluded a treaty of peace and alliance with the indians of the _isthmus_, in consequence of which, the passage overland through the darien country was no longer open to the buccaneers; and some small parties of them who attempted to travel across, were intercepted and cut off by the spaniards, with the assistance of the natives. [sidenote: july.] the spaniards had at _panama_ a military corps distinguished by the appellation of greeks, which was composed of europeans of different nations, not natives of _spain_. among the atrocities committed by the crew under townley, they put to death one of these greeks, who was also commander of a spanish vessel, because on examining him for intelligence, they thought he endeavoured to deceive them; and in aggravation of the deed, lussan relates the circumstance in the usual manner of his pleasantries, 'we paid him for his treachery by sending him to the other world.' [sidenote: august.] on the th of august, as they were at anchor within sight of the city of _panama_, they observed boats passing and repassing between some vessels and the shore, and a kind of bustle which had the appearance of an equipment. [sidenote: battle with spanish armed ships.] the next day, the buccaneers anchored near the island _taboga_; and there, on the morning of the d, they were attacked by three armed vessels from _panama_. the spaniards were provided with cannon, and the battle lasted half the day, when, owing to an explosion of gunpowder in one of the spanish vessels, the victory was decided in favour of the buccaneers. two of the three spanish vessels were taken, as was also one other, which during the fight arrived from _panama_ as a reinforcement. in the last mentioned prize, cords were found prepared for binding their prisoners in the event of their being victorious; and this, the buccaneers deemed provocation sufficient for them to slaughter the whole crew. this battle, so fatal to the spaniards, cost the buccaneers only one man killed outright, and wounded. townley was among the wounded. two of the prizes were immediately manned from the canoes, the largest under the command of le picard, who was the chief among the french of this party. they had many prisoners; and one was sent with a letter to the president of _panama_, to demand ransom for them; also medicines and dressings for the wounded, and the release of five buccaneers who they learnt were prisoners to the spaniards. the medicines were sent, but the president would not treat either of ransom, or of the release of the buccaneer prisoners. the buccaneers dispatched a second message to the president, in which they threatened that if the five buccaneers were not immediately delivered to them, the heads of all the spaniards in their possession, should be sent to him. the president paid little attention to this message, not believing that such a threat would be executed; but the bishop of _panama_, regarding what had recently happened at _lavelia_ as an earnest of what the buccaneers were capable, was seriously alarmed. he wrote a letter to them which he sent by a special messenger, in which he exhorted them in the mildest terms not to shed the blood of innocent men, and promised if they would have patience, to exert his influence to procure the release of the buccaneer prisoners. his letter concluded with the following remarkable paragraph, which shews the great hopes entertained by the roman catholics respecting _great britain_ during the reign of king james the iid. '_i have information_,' says the bishop, '_to give you, that the english are all become roman catholics, and that there is now a catholic church at jamaica_.' the good prelate's letter was pronounced by the buccaneers to be void of truth and sincerity, and an insult to their understanding. they had already received the price of blood, shed not in battle nor in their own defence; and now, devoting themselves to their thirst for gain, they would not be diverted from their sanguinary purpose, but came to the resolution of sending the heads of twenty spaniards to the president, and with them a message purporting that if they did not receive a satisfactory answer to all their demands by the th of the month, the heads of the remaining prisoners should answer for it. lussan says, 'the president's refusal obliged us, though with some reluctance, to take the resolution to send him twenty heads of his people in a canoe. this method was indeed a little violent, but it was the only way to bring the spaniards to reason[ ].' what they had resolved they put into immediate execution. the president of _panama_ was entirely overcome by their inhuman proceedings, and in the first shock and surprise, he yielded without stipulation to all they had demanded. on the th, the buccaneer prisoners (four englishmen and one frenchman) were delivered to them, with a letter from the president, who said he left to their own conscience the disposal of the spanish prisoners yet remaining in their hands. to render the triumph of cruelty and ferocity more complete, the buccaneers, in an answer to the president, charged the whole blame of what they had done to his obstinacy; in exchange for the five buccaneers, they sent only twelve of their spanish prisoners; and they demanded , pieces of eight as ransom of the remainder, which demand however, they afterwards mitigated to half that sum and a supply of refreshments. on the th of september, the ransom was paid, and the prisoners were released. [sidenote: september. death of townley.] september the th, the buccaneer commander, townley, died of the wound he received in the last battle. the english and french buccaneers were faithful associates, but did not mix well as comrades. in a short time after townley's death, the english desired that a division should be made of the prize vessels, artillery, and stores, and that those of their nation should keep together in the same vessels: and this was done, without other separation taking place at the time. [sidenote: november.] in november, they left the _bay of panama_, and sailed westward to their old station near the _point de burica_, where, by surprising small towns, villages, and farms, a business at which they had become extremely expert, they procured provisions; and by the ransom of prisoners, some money. [sidenote: . january.] in january ( ) they intercepted a letter from the spanish commandant at _sonsonnate_ addressed to the president of _panama_, by which they learnt that grogniet had been in _amapalla bay_, and that three of his men had been taken prisoners. the commandant remarked in his letter, that the peace made with the _darien_ indians, having cut off the retreat of the buccaneers, would drive them to desperation, and render them like so many mad dogs; he advised therefore that some means should be adopted to facilitate their retreat, that the spaniards in the _south sea_ might again enjoy repose. '_they have landed_,' he says, '_in these parts ten or twelve times, without knowing what they were seeking; but wheresoever they come, they spoil and lay waste every thing_.' a few days after intercepting this letter, they took prisoner a spanish horseman. lussan says, 'we interrogated him with the usual ceremonies, that is to say, we gave him the torture, to make him tell us what we wanted to know.' many such villanies were undoubtedly committed by these banditti, more than appear in their narratives, or than they dared to make known. lussan, who writes a history of his voyage, not before the end of the second year of his adventures in the _south sea_, relates that they put a prisoner to the torture; and it would have appeared as an individual instance, if he had not, probably through inadvertence, acknowledged it to have been their established practice. lussan on his return to his native land, pretended to reputation and character; and he found countenance and favour from his superiors; it is therefore to be presumed, that he would suppress every transaction in which he was a participator, which he thought of too deep a nature to be received by his patrons with indulgence. a circumstance which tended to make this set of buccaneers worse than any that had preceded them, was, its being composed of men of two nations between which there has existed a constant jealousy and emulation. they were each ambitious to outdo the other in acts of daringness, and were thereby instigated to every kind of excess. [sidenote: grogniet rejoins them.] on the th, near _caldera bay_, they met grogniet with sixty french buccaneers in three canoes. grogniet had parted from townley at the head of men. they had made several descents on the coast. at the _bay of amapalla_, they marched leagues within the coast to a gold-mine, where they took many prisoners, and a small quantity of gold. grogniet wished to return overland to the west-indian sea, but the majority of his companions were differently inclined, and quitted him, and went to try their fortunes towards _california_. grogniet nevertheless persevered in the design with the remainder of his crew, to seek some part of the coast of _new spain_, thin of inhabitants, where they might land unknown to the spaniards, and march without obstruction through the country to the shore of the _atlantic_, without other guide than a compass. the party they now met with, prevailed on them to defer the execution of this project to a season of the year more favourable, and in the mean time to unite with them. [sidenote: february. they divide.] in february, they set fire to the town of _nicoya_. their gains by these descents were so small, that they agreed to leave the coast of _new spain_ and to go against _guayaquil_; but on coming to this determination, the english and the french fell into high dispute for the priority of choice in the prize vessels which they expected to take, insomuch that upon this difference they broke off partnership. [sidenote: both parties sail for the coast of peru.] grogniet however, and about fifty of the french, remained with the english, which made the whole number of that party men, and they all embarked in one ship, the canoes not being safe for an open sea navigation. the other party numbered men, all french, and embarked in a small ship and a _barca longa_. the most curious circumstance attending this separation was, that both parties persevered in the design upon _guayaquil_, without any proposal being made by either to act in concert. they sailed from the coast of _new spain_ near the end of february, not in company, but each using all their exertions to arrive first at the place of destination. [sidenote: they meet again, and reunite.] they crossed the equinoctial line separately, but afterwards at sea accidentally fell in company with each other again, and at this meeting they accommodated their differences, and renewed their partnership. [sidenote: april.] april the th, they were near _point santa elena_, on the coast of _peru_, and met there a prize vessel belonging to their old commander edward davis and his company, but which had been separated from him. she was laden with corn and wine, and eight of davis's men had the care of her. they had been directed in case of separation, to rendezvous at the island _plata_; but the uncertainty of meeting davis there, and the danger they should incur if they missed him, made them glad to join in the expedition against _guayaquil_, and the provisions with which the vessel was laden, made them welcome associates to the buccaneers engaged in it. [sidenote: attack on guayaquil.] their approach to the city of _guayaquil_ was conducted with the most practised circumspection and vigilance. on first getting sight of _point santa elena_, they took in their sails and lay with them furled as long as there was daylight. in the night they pursued their course, keeping at a good distance from the land, till they were to the southward of the _island santa clara_. [sidenote: th.] two hundred and sixty men then (april the th) departed from the ships in canoes. they landed at _santa clara_, which was uninhabited, and at a part of the _island puna_ distant from any habitation, proceeding only during the night time, and lying in concealment during the day. [sidenote: th.] in the night of the th, they approached the _river guayaquil_. at daylight, they were perceived by a guard on watch near the entrance, who lighted a fire as a signal to other guards stationed farther on; by whom, however, the signal was not observed. the buccaneers put as speedily as they could to the nearest land, and a party of the most alert made a circuit through the woods, and surprised the guard at the first signal station, before the alarm had spread farther. they stopped near the entrance till night. [sidenote: th. th.] all day of the th, they rested at an island in the river, and at night advanced again. their intention was to have passed the town in their canoes, and to have landed above it, where they would be the least expected; but the tide of flood with which they ascended the river did not serve long enough for their purpose, and on the th, two hours before day, they landed a short distance below the town, towards which they began to march; but the ground was marshy and overgrown with brushwood. thus far they had proceeded undiscovered; when one of the buccaneers left to guard the canoes struck a light to smoke tobacco, which was perceived by a spanish sentinel on the shore opposite, who immediately fired his piece, and gave alarm to the fort and town. this discovery and the badness of the road caused the buccaneers to defer the attack till daylight. the town of _guayaquil_ is built round a mountain, on which were three forts which overlooked the town. [sidenote: the city taken.] the spaniards made a tolerable defence, but by the middle of the day they were driven from all their forts, and the town was left to the buccaneers, detachments of whom were sent to endeavour to bring in prisoners, whilst a chosen party went to the great church to chant _te deum_. nine buccaneers were killed and twelve wounded in the attack. the booty found in the town was considerable in jewels, merchandise, and silver, particularly in church plate, besides , dollars in money, and they took seven hundred prisoners, among whom were the governor and his family. fourteen vessels lay at anchor in the port, and two ships were on the stocks nearly fit for launching. on the evening of the day that the city was taken, the governor (being a prisoner) entered into treaty with the buccaneers, for the city, fort, shipping, himself, and all the prisoners, to be redeemed for a million pieces of eight, to be paid in gold, and packages of flour; and to hasten the procurement of the money, which was to be brought from _quito_, the vicar general of the district, who was also a prisoner, was released. [sidenote: st.] the st, in the night, by the carelessness of a buccaneer, one of the houses took fire, which communicated to other houses with such rapidity, that one third of the city was destroyed before its progress was stopped. it had been specified in the treaty, that the buccaneers should not set fire to the town; 'therefore,' says lussan, 'lest in consequence of this accident, the spaniards should refuse to pay the ransom, we pretended to believe it was their doing.' many bodies of the spaniards killed in the assault of the town, remained unburied where they had fallen, and the buccaneers were apprehensive that some infectious disorder would thereby be produced. [sidenote: th. at the island puna.] they hastened therefore to embark on board the vessels in the port, their plunder and of their prisoners, with which, on the th, they fell down the river to the _island puna_, where they proposed to wait for the ransom. [sidenote: may. grogniet dies.] on the d of may, captain grogniet died of a wound he received at _guayaquil_. le picard was afterwards the chief among the french buccaneers. the th of may had been named for the payment of the ransom, from which time the money was daily and with increasing impatience expected by the buccaneers. it was known that spanish ships of war were equipping at _callao_ purposely to attack them; and also that their former commander, edward davis, with a good ship, was near this part of the coast. they were anxious to have his company, and on the th, dispatched a galley to seek him at the island _plata_, the place of rendezvous he had appointed for his prize. the th passed without any appearance of ransom money; as did many following days. the spaniards, however, regularly sent provisions to the ships at _puna_ every day, otherwise the prisoners would have starved; but in lieu of money they substituted nothing better than promises. the buccaneers would have felt it humiliation to appear less ferocious than on former occasions, and they recurred to their old mode of intimidation. they made the prisoners throw dice to determine which of them should die, and the heads of four on whom the lot fell were delivered to a spanish officer in answer to excuses for delay which he had brought from the lieutenant governor of _guayaquil_, with an intimation that at the end of four days more five hundred heads should follow, if the ransom did not arrive. [sidenote: th.] on the th, their galley which had been sent in search of davis returned, not having found him at the island _plata_; but she brought notice of two strange sail being near the cape _santa elena_. [sidenote: edward davis joins le picard.] these proved to be edward davis's ship, and a prize. davis had received intelligence, as already mentioned, of the buccaneers having captured _guayaquil_, and was now come purposely to join them. he sent his prize to the buccaneers at _puna_, and remained with his own ship in the offing on the look-out. the four days allowed for the payment of the ransom expired, and no ransom was sent; neither did the buccaneers execute their sanguinary threat. it is worthy of remark, that intreaty or intercession made to this set of buccaneers, so far from obtaining remission or favour, at all times produced the opposite effect, as if reminding them of their power, instigated them to an imperious display of it. the lieutenant governor of _guayaquil_ was in no haste to fulfil the terms of the treaty made by the governor, nor did he importune them with solicitations, and the whole business for a time lay at rest. the forbearance of the buccaneers may not unjustly be attributed to davis having joined them. [sidenote: d.] on the d, the spaniards paid to the buccaneers as much gold as amounted in value to , pieces of eight, and eighty packages of flour, as part of the ransom. the day following, the lieutenant governor sent word, that they might receive , pieces of eight more for the release of the prisoners, and if that sum would not satisfy them, they might do their worst, for that no greater would be paid them. upon this message, the buccaneers held a consultation, whether they should cut off the heads of all the prisoners, or take the , pieces of eight, and it was determined, not unanimously, but by a majority of voices, that it was better to take a little money than to cut off many heads. lussan, his own biographer and a young man, boasts of the pleasant manner in which he passed his time at _puna_. 'we made good cheer, being daily supplied with refreshments from _guayaquil_. we had concerts of music; we had the best performers of the city among our prisoners. some among us engaged in friendships with our women prisoners, who were not hard hearted.' this is said by way of prelude to a history which he gives of his own good fortune; all which, whether true or otherwise, serves to shew, that among this abandoned crew the prisoners of both sexes were equally unprotected. [sidenote: th.] on the th, the , pieces of eight were paid to the buccaneers, who selected a hundred prisoners of the most consideration to retain, and released the rest. the same day, they quitted their anchorage at _puna_, intending to anchor again at point _santa elena_, and there to enter afresh into negociation for ransom of prisoners: but in the evening, two spanish ships of war came in sight. the engagement which ensued, and other proceedings of the buccaneers, until edward davis parted company to return homeward by the south of _america_, has been related. [sidenote: see pp. to .] it remains to give an account of the french buccaneers after the separation, to their finally quitting the _south sea_. chap. xxiv. _retreat of the =french buccaneers= across =new spain= to the =west indies=. all the =buccaneers= quit the =south sea=._ [sidenote: . june. le picard and hout.] the party left by davis consisted of buccaneers, the greater number of whom were french, the rest were english, and their leaders le picard and george hout. they had determined to quit the _south sea_, and with that view to sail to the coast of _new spain_, whence they proposed to march over land to the shore of the _caribbean sea_. [sidenote: july. on the coast of new spain.] about the end of july, they anchored in the _bay of amapalla_, and were joined there by thirty french buccaneers. these thirty were part of a crew which had formerly quitted grogniet to cruise towards _california_. others of that party were still on the coast to the north-west, and the buccaneers in _amapalla bay_ put to sea in search of them, that all of their fraternity in the _south sea_ might be collected, and depart together. in the search after their former companions, they landed at different places on the coast of _new spain_. among their adventures here, they took, and remained four days in possession of, the town of _tecoantepeque_, but without any profit to themselves. at _guatulco_, they plundered some plantations, and obtained provisions in ransom for prisoners. whilst they lay there at anchor, they saw a vessel in the offing, which from her appearance, and manner of working her sails, they believed to contain the people they were seeking; but the wind and sea set so strong on the shore at the time, that neither their vessels nor boats could go out to ascertain what she was; and after that day, they did not see her again. [sidenote: december. in amapalla bay.] in the middle of december they returned to the _bay of amapalla_, which they had fixed upon for the place of their departure from the shores of the _south sea_. their plan was, to march by the town of _nueva segovia_, which had before been visited by buccaneers, and they now expected would furnish them with provisions. according to lussan's information, the distance they would have to travel by land from _amapalla bay_, was about leagues, when they would come to the source of a river, by which they could descend to the _caribbean sea_, near to _cape gracias a dios_. whilst they made preparation for their march, they were anxious to obtain intelligence what force the spaniards had in their proposed route, but the natives kept at a distance. on the th, seventy buccaneers landed and marched into the country, of which adventure lussan gives the account following. they travelled the whole day without meeting an inhabitant. they rested for the night, and next morning proceeded in their journey, but all seemed a desert, and about noon, the majority were dissatisfied and turned back. twenty went on; and soon after came to a beaten road, on which they perceived three horsemen riding towards them, whom they way-laid so effectually as to take them all. [sidenote: chiloteca.] by these men they learnt the way to a small town named _chiloteca_, to which they went and there made fifty of the inhabitants prisoners. [sidenote: massacre of prisoners.] they took up their quarters in the church, where they also lodged their prisoners, and intended to have rested during the night; but after dark, they heard much bustle in the town, which made them apprehensive the spaniards were preparing to attack them, and the noise caused in the prisoners the appearance of a disposition to rise; upon which, the buccaneers slew them all except four, whom they carried away with them, and reached the vessels without being molested in their retreat. the prisoners were interrogated; and the accounts they gave confirmed the buccaneers in the opinion that they had no better chance of transporting themselves and their plunder to the _north sea_, than by immediately setting about the execution of the plan they had formed. [sidenote: the buccaneers burn their vessels.] to settle the order of the march, they landed their riches and the stores necessary for their journey, on one of the islands in the bay; and that their number might not suffer diminution by the defection of any, it was agreed to destroy the vessels, which was executed forthwith, with the reserve of one galley and the canoes, which were necessary for the transport of themselves and their effects to the main land. they made a muster of their force, which they divided into four companies, each consisting of seventy men, and every man having his arms and accoutrements. whilst these matters were arranging, a detachment of men were sent to the main land to endeavour to get horses. they had destroyed their vessels, and had not removed from the island, when a large spanish armed ship anchored in _amapalla bay_; but she was not able to give them annoyance, nor in the least to impede their operations. [sidenote: . january.] on the st of january, , they passed over, with their effects, to the main land, and the same day, the party which had gone in search of horses, returned, bringing with them sixty-eight, which were divided equally among the four companies, to be employed in carrying stores and provisions, as were eighty prisoners, who besides being carriers of stores, were made to carry the sick and wounded. every buccaneer had his particular sack, or package, which it was required should contain his ammunition; what else, was at his own discretion. many of these buccaneers had more silver than themselves were able to carry. there were also many who had neither silver nor gold, and were little encumbered with effects of their own: these light freighted gentry were glad to be hired as porters to the rich, and the contract for carrying silver, on this occasion, was one half; that is to say, that on arriving at the _north sea_, there should be an equal division between the employer and the carrier. carriage of gold or other valuables was according to particular agreement. lussan, who no doubt was as sharp a rogue as any among his companions, relates of himself, that he had been fortunate at play, and that his winnings added to his share of plunder, amounted to , pieces of eight, the whole of which he had converted into gold and jewels; and that whilst they were making ready for their march, he received warning from a friend that a gang had been formed by about twenty of the poorer buccaneers, with the intention to waylay and strip those of their brethren, who had been most fortunate. on considering the danger and great difficulty of having to guard against the machinations of hungry conspirators who were to be his fellow-travellers in a long journey, and might have opportunities to perpetrate their mischievous intentions during any fight with the spaniards, lussan came to the resolution of making a sacrifice of part of his riches to insure the remaining part, and to lessen the temptation to any individual to seek his death. to this end he divided his treasure into a number of small parcels, which he confided to the care of so many of his companions, making agreement with each for the carriage. [sidenote: retreat of the buccaneers over land to the west indian sea.] january the d, in the morning, they began their march, an advanced guard being established to consist of ten men from each company, who were to be relieved every morning by ten others. at night they rested at four leagues distance, according to their estimation, from the border of the sea. the first part of lussan's account of this journey has little of adventure or description. the difficulties experienced were what had been foreseen, such as the inhabitants driving away cattle and removing provisions, setting fire to the dry grass when it could annoy them in their march; and sometimes the buccaneers were fired at by unseen shooters. they rested at villages and farms when they found any in their route, where, and also by making prisoners, they obtained provisions. when no habitations or buildings were at hand, they generally encamped at night on a hill, or in open ground. very early in their march they were attended by a body of spanish troops at a small distance, the music of whose trumpets afforded them entertainment every morning and evening; 'but,' says lussan, 'it was like the music of the enchanted palace of psyche, which was heard without the musicians being visible.' on the forenoon of the th, notwithstanding their vigilance, the buccaneers were saluted with an unexpected volley of musketry which killed two men; and this was the only mischance that befel them in their march from the western sea to _segovia_, which town they entered on the th of january, without hindrance, and found it without inhabitants, and cleared of every kind of provisions. [sidenote: town of new segovia.] 'the town of _segovia_ is situated in a vale, and is so surrounded with mountains that it seems to be a prisoner there. the churches are ill built. the place of arms, or parade, is large and handsome, as are many of the houses. it is distant from the shore of the _south sea_ forty leagues: the road is difficult, the country being extremely mountainous.' on the th, they left _segovia_ and without injuring the houses, a forbearance to which they had little accustomed themselves; but present circumstances brought to their consideration that if it should be their evil fortune to be called to account, it might be quite as well for them not to add the burning of _segovia_ to the reckoning. the th, an hour before sunset, they ascended a hill, which appeared a good station to occupy for the night. when they arrived at the summit, they perceived on the slope of the next mountain before them, a great number of horses grazing (lussan says between twelve and fifteen hundred), which at the first sight they mistook for horned cattle, and congratulated each other on the near prospect of a good meal; but it was soon discovered they were horses, and that a number of them were saddled: intrenchments also were discerned near the same place, and finally, troops. this part of the country was a thick forest, with deep gullies, and not intersected with any path excepting the road they were travelling, which led across the mountain where the spaniards were intrenched. on reconnoitring the position of the spaniards, the road beyond them was seen to the right of the intrenchments. the buccaneers on short consultation, determined that they would endeavour under cover of the night to penetrate the wood to their right, so as to arrive at the road beyond the spanish camp, and come on it by surprise. this plan was similar to that which they had projected at _guayaquil_, and was a business exactly suited to the habits and inclinations of these adventurers, who more than any other of their calling, or perhaps than the native tribes of _north america_, were practised and expert in veiling their purpose so as not to awaken suspicion; in concealing themselves by day and making silent advances by night, and in all the arts by which even the most wary may be ensnared. here, immediately after fixing their plan, they began to intrench and fortify the ground they occupied, and made all the dispositions which troops usually do who halt for the night. this encampment, besides impressing the spaniards with the belief that they intended to pass the night in repose, was necessary to the securing their baggage and prisoners. rest seemed necessary and due to the buccaneers after a toilsome day's march, and so it was thought by the spanish commander, who seeing them fortify their quarters, doubted not that they meant to do themselves justice; but an hour after the close of day, two hundred buccaneers departed from their camp. the moon shone out bright, which gave them light to penetrate the woods, whilst the woods gave them concealment from the spaniards, and the spaniards kept small lookout. before midnight, they were near enough to hear the spaniards chanting litanies, and long before daylight were in the road beyond the spanish encampment. they waited till the day broke, and then pushed for the camp, which, as had been conjectured, was entirely open on this side. two spanish sentinels discovered the approach of the enemy, and gave alarm; but the buccaneers were immediately after in the camp, and the spanish troops disturbed from their sleep had neither time nor recollection for any other measure than to save themselves by flight. they abandoned all the intrenchments, and the buccaneers being masters of the pass, were soon joined by the party who had charge of the baggage and prisoners. in this affair, the loss of the buccaneers was only two men killed, and four wounded. in the remaining part of their journey, they met no serious obstruction, and were not at any time distressed by a scarcity of provisions. lussan says they led from the spanish encampment horses, which served them for carriage, for present food, and to salt for future provision when they should arrive at the sea shore. [sidenote: rio de yare, or cape river.] on the th of january, which was the th of their journey, they came to the banks of a river by which they were to descend to the _caribbean sea_. this river has its source among the mountains of _nueva segovia_, and falls into the sea to the south of _cape gracias a dios_ about leagues, according to d'anville's map, in which it is called _rio de yare_. dampier makes it fall into the sea something more to the southward, and names it the _cape river_. the country here was not occupied nor frequented by the spaniards, and was inhabited only in a few places by small tribes of native americans. the buccaneers cut down trees, and made rafts or catamarans for the conveyance of themselves and their effects down the stream. on account of the falls, the rafts were constructed each to carry no more than two persons with their luggage, and every man went provided with a pole to guide the raft clear of rocks and shallows. in the commencement of this fresh-water navigation, their maritime experience, with all the pains they could take, did not prevent their getting into whirlpools, where the rafts were overturned, with danger to the men and frequently with the loss of part of the lading. when they came to a fall which appeared more than usually dangerous, they put ashore, took their rafts to pieces, and carried all below the fall, where they re-accommodated matters and embarked again. the rapidity of the stream meeting many obstructions, raised a foam and spray that kept every thing on the rafts constantly wet; the salted horse flesh was in a short time entirely spoilt, and their ammunition in a state not to be of service in supplying them with game. fortunately for them the banks of the river abounded in banana-trees, both wild and in plantations. when they first embarked on the river, the rafts went in close company; but the irregularity and violence of the stream, continually entangled and drove them against each other, on which account the method was changed, and distances preserved. this gave opportunity to the desperadoes who had conspired against their companions to commence their operations, which they directed against five englishmen, whom they killed and despoiled. the murderers absconded in the woods with their prey, and were not afterwards seen by the company. [sidenote: february, .] the th of february they had passed all the falls, and were at a broad deep and smooth part of the river, where they found no other obstruction than trees and drift-wood floating. as they were near the sea, many stopped and began to build canoes. some english buccaneers who went lower down the river, found at anchor an english vessel belonging to _jamaica_, from which they learnt that the french government had just proclaimed an amnesty in favour of those who since the peace made with _spain_ had committed acts of piracy, upon condition of their claiming the benefit of the proclamation within a specified time. a similar proclamation had been issued in the year by the english government; but as it was not clear from the report made by the crew of the _jamaica_ vessel, whether it yet operated, the english buccaneers would not embark for _jamaica_. they sent by two mosquito indians, an account of the news they had heard to the french buccaneers, with notice that there was a vessel at the mouth of the river capable of accommodating not more than forty persons. immediately on receiving the intelligence, above a hundred of the french set off in all haste for the vessel, every one of whom pretended to be of the forty. those who first arrived on board, took up the anchor as speedily as they could, and set sail, whilst those who were behind called loudly for a decision by lot or dice; but the first comers were content to rest their title on possession. the english buccaneers remained for the present with the mosquito indians near _cape gracias a dios_, 'who,' says lussan, 'have an affection for the english, on account of the many little commodities which they bring them from the island of _jamaica_.' the greater part of the french buccaneers went to the french settlements; but seventy-five of them who went to _jamaica_, were apprehended and detained prisoners by the duke of albemarle, who was then governor, and their effects sequestrated. they remained in prison until the death of the duke, which happened in the following year, when they were released; but neither their arms nor plunder were returned to them. the _south sea_ was now cleared of the main body of the buccaneers. a few stragglers remained, concerning whom some scattered notices are found, of which the following are the heads. [sidenote: la pava.] seixas mentions an english frigate named _la pava_, being wrecked in the _strait of magalhanes_ in the year ; and that her loss was occasioned by currents[ ]. by the name being spanish (signifying the hen) this vessel must have been a prize to the buccaneers. [sidenote: captain straiton.] in the narrative of the loss of the wager, by bulkeley and cummins, it is mentioned that they found at _port desire_ cut on a brick, in very legible characters, "captain straiton, cannon, ." most probably this was meant of a buccaneer vessel. [sidenote: le sage.] at the time that the english and french buccaneers were crossing the _isthmus_ in great numbers from the _west indies_ to the _south sea_, two hundred french buccaneers departed from _hispaniola_ in a ship commanded by a captain le sage, intending to go to the _south sea_ by the _strait of magalhanes_; but having chosen a wrong season of the year for that passage, and finding the winds unfavourable, they stood over to the coast of _africa_, where they continued cruising two years, and returned to the _west indies_ with great booty, obtained at the expence of the hollanders. [sidenote: small crew of buccaneers at the tres marias.] the small crew of french buccaneers in the _south sea_ who were a part of those who had separated from grogniet to cruise near _california_, and for whom le picard had sought in vain on the coast of _new spain_, were necessitated by the smallness of their force, and the bad state of their vessel, to shelter themselves at the _tres marias islands_ in the entrance of the _gulf of california_. [sidenote: their adventures, and return to the west indies.] it is said that they remained four years among those islands, at the end of which time, they determined, rather than to pass the rest of their lives in so desolate a place, to sail southward, though with little other prospect or hope than that they should meet some of their former comrades; instead of which, on looking in at _arica_ on the coast of _peru_, they found at anchor in the road a spanish ship, which they took, and in her a large quantity of treasure. the buccaneers embarked in their prize, and proceeded southward for the _atlantic_, but were cast ashore in the _strait of magalhanes_. part of the treasure, and as much of the wreck of the vessel as served to construct two sloops, were saved, with which, after so many perils, they arrived safe in the _west indies_. [sidenote: story related by le sieur froger.] le sieur froger, in his account of the voyage of m. de gennes, has introduced a narrative of a party of french buccaneers or flibustiers going from _saint domingo_ to the _south sea_, in the year ; which is evidently a romance fabricated from the descriptions which had been given of their general courses and habits. these _protegés_ of le sieur froger, like the buccaneer crew from the _tres marias islands_ just mentioned, were reduced to great distress,--took a rich prize afterwards on the coast of _peru_,--were returning to the _atlantic_, and lost their ship in the _strait of magalhanes_. they were ten months in the _strait_ building a bark, which they loaded with the best of what they had saved of the cargo of their ship, and in the end arrived safe at _cayenne_[ ]. funnel also mentions a report which he heard, of a small crew of french buccaneers, not more than twenty, whose adventures were of the same cast; and who probably were the _tres marias_ buccaneers. it has been related that five buccaneers who had gamed away their money, unwilling to return poor out of the _south sea_, landed at the island _juan fernandez_ from edward davis's ship, about the end of the year , and were left there. in , the english ship welfare, commanded by captain john strong, anchored at _juan fernandez_; of which voyage two journals have been preserved among the mss in the sloane collection in the british museum, from which the following account is taken. the farewell arrived off the island on the evening of october the th, . in the night, those on board were surprised at seeing a fire on an elevated part of the land. early next morning, a boat was sent on shore, which soon returned, bringing off from the island two englishmen. these were part of the five who had landed from davis's ship. they piloted the welfare to a good anchoring place. [sidenote: buccaneers who lived three years on the island juan fernandez.] in the three years that they had lived on _juan fernandez_, they had not, until the arrival of the welfare, seen any other ships than spaniards, which was a great disappointment to them. the spaniards had landed and had endeavoured to take them, but they had found concealment in the woods; one excepted, who deserted from his companions, and delivered himself up to the spaniards. the four remaining, when they learnt that the buccaneers had entirely quitted the _south sea_, willingly embarked with captain strong, and with them four servants or slaves. nothing is said of the manner in which they employed themselves whilst on the island, except of their contriving subterraneous places of concealment that the spaniards should not find them, and of their taming a great number of goats, so that at one time they had a tame stock of . chap. xxv. _steps taken towards reducing the =buccaneers= and =flibustiers= under subordination to the regular governments. war of the grand alliance against =france=. the neutrality of the =island saint christopher= broken._ whilst these matters were passing in the _pacific ocean_, small progress was made in the reform which had been begun in the _west indies_. the english governors by a few examples of severity restrained the english buccaneers from undertaking any enterprise of magnitude. with the french, the case was different. the number of the flibustiers who absented themselves from _hispaniola_, to go to the _south sea_, alarmed the french government for the safety of their colonies, and especially of their settlements in _hispaniola_, the security and defence of which against the spaniards they had almost wholly rested on its being the place of residence and the home of those adventurers. to persist in a rigorous police against their cruising, it was apprehended would make the rest of them quit _hispaniola_, for which reason it was judged prudent to relax in the enforcement of the prohibitions; the flibustiers accordingly continued their courses as usual. [sidenote: .] in , granmont and de graaf prepared an armament against _campeachy_. m. de cussy, who was governor of _tortuga_ and the french part of _hispaniola_, applied personally to them to relinquish their design; but as the force was collected, and all preparation made, neither the flibustiers nor their commanders would be dissuaded from the undertaking, and de cussy submitted. [sidenote: campeachy burnt.] _campeachy_ was plundered and burnt. a measure was adopted by the french government which certainly trenched on the honour of the regular military establishments of _france_, but was attended with success in bringing the flibustiers more under control and rendering them more manageable. this was, the taking into the king's service some of the principal leaders of the flibustiers, and giving them commissions of advanced rank, either in the land service or in the french marine. [sidenote: granmont.] a commission was made out for granmont, appointing him commandant on the south coast of _saint domingo_, with the rank of lieutenant du roy. but of granmont as a buccaneer, it might be said in the language of sportsmen, that he was game to the last. before the commission arrived, he received information of the honour intended him, and whilst yet in his state of liberty, was seized with the wish to make one more cruise. he armed a ship, and, with a crew of flibustiers in her, put to sea. this was near the end of the year ; and what afterwards became of him and his followers is not known, for they were not again seen or heard of. [sidenote: .] in the beginning of , a commission arrived from _france_, appointing de graaf major in the king's army in the _west indies_. he was then with a crew of flibustiers near _carthagena_. in this cruise, twenty-five of his men who landed in the _gulf of darien_, were cut off by the darien indians. de graaf on his return into port accepted his commission, and when transformed to an officer in the king's army, became, like morgan, a great scourge to the flibustiers and _forbans_. [sidenote: proclamation against pirates.] in consequence of complaints made by the spaniards, a proclamation was issued at this time, by the king of _great britain_, james the iid, specified in the title to be 'for the more effectual reducing and suppressing of pirates and privateers in _america_, as well on the sea as on the land, who in great numbers have committed frequent robberies, which hath occasioned great prejudice and obstruction to trade and commerce.' [sidenote: .] a twenty years truce had, in the year , been agreed upon between _france_ and _spain_, but scarcely a twentieth part of that time was suffered to elapse before it was broken in the _west indies_. [sidenote: danish factory robbed by the buccaneers.] the flibustiers of _hispaniola_ did not content themselves with their customary practice: in they plundered the danish factory at the island _st. thomas_, which is one of the small islands called _the virgins_, near the east end of _porto rico_. this was an aggression beyond the limits which they had professed to prescribe to their depredatory system, and it is not shewn that they had received injury at the hands of the danes. nevertheless, the french west-india histories say, 'our flibustiers (_nos flibustiers_), in , surprised the danish factory at _st. thomas_. the pillage was considerable, and would have been more if they had known that the chief part of the cash was kept in a vault under the hall, which was known to very few of the house. they forgot on this occasion their ordinary practice, which is to put their prisoners to the torture to make them declare where the money is. it is certain that if they had so done, the hiding-place would have been revealed to them, in which it was believed there was more than , livres.' such remarks shew the strong prepossession which existed in favour of the buccaneers, and an eagerness undistinguishing and determined after the extraordinary. qualities the most common to the whole of mankind were received as wonderful when related of the buccaneers. one of our encyclopedias, under the article buccaneer, says, 'they were transported with an astonishing degree of enthusiasm whenever they saw a sail.' in this same year, , war broke out in europe between the french and spaniards, and in a short time the english joined against the french. [sidenote: . july.] _england_ and _france_ had at no period since the norman conquest been longer without serious quarrel. on the accession of william the iiid. to the crowns of _great britain_, it was generally believed that a war with _france_ would ensue. [sidenote: the english driven from st. christopher.] the french in the _west indies_ did not wait for its being declared, but attacked the english part of _st. christopher_, the island on which by joint agreement had been made the original and confederated first settlements of the two nations in the _west indies_. [sidenote: see p. .] the english inhabitants were driven from their possessions and obliged to retire to the island _nevis_, which terminated the longest preserved union which history can shew between the english and french as subjects of different nations. in the commencement it was strongly cemented by the mutual want of support against a powerful enemy; that motive for their adherence to each other had ceased to exist: yet in the reigns of charles the iid. and james the iid. of _england_, an agreement had been made between _england_ and _france_, that if war should at any time break out between them, a neutrality should be observed by their subjects in the _west indies_. this war continued nearly to the end of king william's reign, and during that time the english and french buccaneers were engaged on opposite sides, as auxiliaries to the regular forces of their respective nations, which completely separated them; and it never afterwards happened that they again confederated in any buccaneer cause. they became more generally distinguished by different appellations, not consonant to their present situations and habits; for the french adventurers, who were frequently occupied in hunting and at the _boucan_, were called the flibustiers of _st. domingo_, and the english adventurers, who had nothing to do with the _boucan_, were called the buccaneers of _jamaica_. [sidenote: . july. the english retake st. christopher.] the french had not kept possession of _st. christopher_ quite a year, when it was taken from them by the english. this was an unfortunate year for the french, who in it suffered a great defeat from the spaniards in _hispaniola_. their governor de cussy, and frenchmen, fell in battle, and the town of _cape françois_ was demolished. the french flibustiers at this time greatly annoyed _jamaica_, making descents, in which they carried off such a number of negroes, that in derision they nicknamed _jamaica 'little guinea_.' the principal transactions in the _west indies_, were, the attempts made by each party on the possessions of the other. in the course of these services, de graaf was accused of misconduct, tried, and deprived of his commission in the army; but though judged unfit for command in land service, out of respect to his maritime experience he was appointed captain of a frigate. no one among the flibustiers was more distinguished for courage and enterprise in this war than jean montauban, who commanded a ship of between and guns. he sailed from the _west indies_ to _bourdeaux_ in . in february of the year following, he departed from _bourdeaux_ for the coast of _guinea_, where in battle with an english ship of force, both the ships were blown up. montauban and a few others escaped with their lives. this affair is not to be ranked among buccaneer exploits, _great britain_ and _france_ being at open war, and montauban having a regular commission. chap. xxvi. _seige and plunder of the city of =carthagena= on the =terra firma=, by an armament from =france= in conjunction with the =flibustiers= of =saint domingo=._ [sidenote: .] in , at the suggestion of m. le baron de pointis, an officer of high rank in the french marine, a large armament was fitted out in _france_, jointly at the expence of the crown, and of private contributors, for an expedition against the spaniards in the _west indies_. the chief command was given to m. de pointis, and orders were sent out to the governor of the french settlements in _hispaniola_ (m. du casse) to raise men in _tortuga_ and _hispaniola_ to assist in the expedition. the king's regular force in m. du casse's government was small, and the men demanded were to be supplied principally from the flibustiers. the dispatches containing the above orders arrived in january. it was thought necessary to specify to the flibustiers a limitation of time; and they were desired to keep from dispersing till the th of february, it being calculated that m. de pointis would then, or before, certainly be at _hispaniola_. [sidenote: march.] de pointis, however, did not arrive till the beginning of march, when he made _cape françois_, but did not anchor there; preferring the western part of _hispaniola_, 'fresh water being better and more easy to be got at _cape tiburon_ than at any other part.' m. du casse had, with some difficulty, kept the flibustiers together beyond the time specified, and they were soon dissatisfied with the deportment of the baron de pointis, which was more imperious than they had been accustomed to from any commander. [sidenote: character of the buccaneers by m. de pointis.] m. de pointis published a history of his expedition, in which he relates that at the first meeting between him and m. du casse, he expressed himself dissatisfied at the small number of men provided; 'but,' says he, 'm. du casse assured me that the buccaneers were at this time collected, and would every man of them perform wonders. it is the good fortune of all the pirates in these parts to be called buccaneers. these freebooters are, for the most part, composed of those that desert from ships that come upon the coast: the advantage they bring to the governors, protects them against the prosecution of the law. all who are apprehended as vagabonds in _france_, and can give no account of themselves, are sent to these islands, where they are obliged to serve for three years. the first that gets them, obliges them to work in the plantations; at the end of the term of servitude, somebody lends them a gun, and to sea they go a buccaneering.' it is proper to hint here, that when m. de pointis published his narrative, he was at enmity with the buccaneers, and had a personal interest in bringing the buccaneer character into disrepute. many of his remarks upon them, nevertheless, are not less just than characteristic. he continues his description; 'they were formerly altogether independent. of late years they have been reduced under the government of the coast of _st. domingo_: they have commissions given them, for which they pay the tenth of all prizes, and are now called the king's subjects. the governors of our settlements in _saint domingo_ being enriched by them, do mightily extol them for the damages they do to the spaniards. this infamous profession which an impunity for all sorts of crimes renders so much beloved, has within a few years lost us above six thousand men, who might have improved and peopled the colony. at present they are pleased to be called the king's subjects; yet it is with so much arrogance, as obliges all who are desirous to make use of them, to court them in the most flattering terms. this was not agreeable to my disposition, and considering them as his majesty's subjects which the governor was ordered to deliver to me, i plainly told them that they should find me a commander to lead them on, but not as a companion to them.' the expedition, though it was not yet made known, or even yet pretended to be determined, against what place it should be directed, was expected to yield both honour and profit. the buccaneers would not quarrel with a promising enterprise under a spirited and experienced commander, for a little haughtiness in his demeanour towards them; but they demanded to have clearly specified the share of the prize money and plunder to which they should be entitled, and it was stipulated by mutual agreement 'that the flibustiers and colonists should, man for man, have the same shares of booty that were allowed to the men on board the king's ships.' as so many men were to embark from m. du casse's government, he proposed to go at their head, and desired to know of m. de pointis what rank would be allowed him. m. du casse was a mariner by profession, and had the rank of captain in the french navy. de pointis told him that the highest character he knew him in, was that which he derived from his commission as _capitaine de vaisseau_, and that if he embarked in the expedition, he must be content to serve in that quality according to his seniority. m. du casse nevertheless chose to go, though it was generally thought he was not allowed the honours and consideration which were his due as governor of the french colonies at _st. domingo_, and commander of so large a portion of the men engaged in the expedition. it was settled, that the flibustiers should embark partly in their own cruising vessels, and partly on board the ships of m. de pointis' squadron, and should be furnished with six weeks provisions. a review was made, to prevent any but able men of the colony being taken; negroes who served, if free, were to be allowed shares like other men; if slaves and they were killed, their masters were to be paid for them. two copies of the agreement respecting the sharing of booty were posted up in public places at _petit goave_, and a copy was delivered to m. du casse, the governor. m. de pointis consulted with m. du casse what enterprise they should undertake, but the determination wholly rested with m. de pointis. 'there was added,' m. de pointis says, 'without my knowledge, to the directions sent to governor du casse, that he was to give assistance to our undertaking, without damage to, or endangering, his colony. this restriction did in some measure deprive me of the power of commanding his forces, seeing he had an opportunity of pretending to keep them for the preservation of the colony.' m. du casse made no pretences to withhold, but gave all the assistance in his power. he was an advocate for attacking the city of _san domingo_. this was the wish of most of the colonists, and perhaps was what would have been of more advantage to _france_ than any other expedition they could have undertaken. but the armament having been prepared principally at private expence, it was reasonable for the contributors to look to their own reimbursement. to attack the city of _san domingo_ was not approved; other plans were proposed, but _carthagena_ seems to have been the original object of the projectors of the expedition, and the attack of that city was determined upon. before the flibustiers and other colonists embarked, a disagreement happened which had nearly made them refuse altogether to join in the expedition. the officers of de pointis' fleet had imbibed the sentiments of their commander respecting the flibustiers or buccaneers, and followed the example of his manners towards them. the fleet was lying at _petit goave_, and m. de pointis, giving to himself the title of general of the armies of _france_ by sea and by land in _america_, had placed a guard in a fort there. m. du casse, as he had received no orders from _europe_ to acknowledge any superior within his government, might have considered such an exercise of power to be an encroachment on his authority which it became him to resist; but he acted in this, and in other instances, like a man overawed. the officer of m. de pointis who commanded the guard on shore, arrested a flibustier for disorderly behaviour, and held him prisoner in the fort. the flibustiers surrounded the fort in a tumultuous manner to demand his release, and the officer commanded his men to fire upon them, by which three of the flibustiers were killed. it required some address and civility on the part of m. de pointis himself, as well as the assistance of m. du casse, to appease the flibustiers; and the officer who had committed the offence was sent on board under arrest. the force furnished from m. du casse's government, consisted of nearly flibustiers, soldiers from the garrisons, and as many volunteer inhabitants and negroes as made up about men. the whole armament consisted of seven large ships, and eleven frigates, besides store ships and smaller vessels; and, reckoning persons of all classes, men. [sidenote: april. siege of carthagena by the french.] the fleet arrived off _carthagena_ on april the th, and the landing was effected on the th. it is not necessary to relate all the particulars of this siege, in which the buccaneers bore only a part. that part however was of essential importance. m. de pointis, in the commencement, appointed the whole of the flibustiers, without any mixture of the king's troops, to a service of great danger, which raised a suspicion, of partiality and of an intention to save the men he brought with him from _europe_, as regarding them to be more peculiarly his own men. an eminence about a mile to the eastward of the city of _carthagena_, on which was a church named _nuestra senora de la poupa_, commands all the avenues and approaches on the land side to the city. 'i had been assured,' says m. de pointis, 'that if we did not seize the hill _de la poupa_ immediately on our arrival, all the treasure would be carried off. to get possession of this post, i resolved to land the buccaneers in the night of the same day on which we came to anchor, they being proper for such an attempt, as being accustomed to marching and subsisting in the woods.' m. de pointis takes this occasion to accuse the buccaneers of behaving less heroically than m. du casse had boasted they would, and that it was not without murmuring that they embarked in the boats in order to their landing. it is however due to them on the score of courage and exertion, to remark, though in some degree it is anticipation, that no part of the force under m. de pointis shewed more readiness or performed better service in the siege than the buccaneers. there was uncertainty about the most proper place for landing, and m. de pointis went himself in a boat to examine near the shore to the north of the city. the surf rolled in heavy, by which his boat was filled, and was with difficulty saved from being stranded on a rock. the proposed landing was given up as impracticable, and m. de pointis became of opinion that _carthagena_ was approachable only by the lake which makes the harbour, the entrance to which, on account of its narrowness, was called the _bocca-chica_, and was defended by a strong fort. the fleet sailed for the _bocca-chica_, and on the th some of the ships began to cannonade the fort. the first landing was effected at the same time by a corps of eighty negroes, without any mixture of the king's troops. this was a second marked instance of the commander's partial attention to the preservation of the men he brought from _france_. m. de pointis despised the flibustiers, and probably regarded negroes as next to nothing. he was glad however to receive them as his companions in arms, and it was an honour due from him to all under his command, as far as circumstances would admit without injury to service, to share the dangers equally, or at least without partiality. the th, which was the day next after the landing, the castle of _bocca-chica_ surrendered. this was a piece of good fortune much beyond expectation, and was obtained principally by the dexterous management of a small party of the buccaneers; which drew commendation even from m. de pointis. 'among the chiefs of these buccaneers,' he says, 'there may be about twenty men who deserve to be distinguished for their courage; it not being my intention to comprehend them in the descriptions which i make of the others.' [sidenote: may. the city capitulates.] de pointis conducted the siege with diligence and spirit. the _nuestra senora de la poupa_ was taken possession of on the th; and on the d of may, the city capitulated. the terms of the capitulation were, that all public effects and office accounts should be delivered to the captors. that merchants should produce their books of accounts, and deliver up all money and effects held by them for their correspondents. that every inhabitant should be free to leave the city, or to remain in his dwelling. that those who retired from the city should first deliver up all their property there to the captors. that those who chose to remain, should declare faithfully, under penalty of entire confiscation, the gold, silver, and jewels, in their possession; on which condition, and delivering up one half, they should be permitted to retain the other half, and afterwards be regarded as subjects of _france_. that the churches and religious houses should be spared and protected. the french general on entering the town with his troops, went first to the cathedral to attend the _te deum_. he next sent for the superiors of the convents and religious houses, to whom he explained the meaning of the article of the capitulation promising them protection, which was, that their houses should not be destroyed; but that it had no relation to money in their possession, which they were required to deliver up. otherwise, he observed, it would be in their power to collect in their houses all the riches of the city. he caused it to be publicly rumoured that he was directed by the court to keep possession of _carthagena_, and that it would be made a french colony. to give colour to this report, he appointed m. du casse to be governor of the city. he strictly prohibited the troops from entering any house until it had undergone the visitation of officers appointed by himself, some of which officers it was supposed, embezzled not less than , crowns each. a reward was proclaimed for informers of concealed treasure, of one-tenth of all treasure discovered by them. 'the hope of securing a part, with the fear of bad neighbours and false friends, induced the inhabitants to be forward in disclosing their riches, and tilleul who was charged with receiving the treasure, was not able to weigh the specie fast enough.' m. du casse, in the exercise of what he conceived to be the duties of his new office of governor of _carthagena_, had begun to take cognizance of the money which the inhabitants brought in according to the capitulation; but m. de pointis was desirous that he should not be at any trouble on that head. high words passed between them, in consequence of which, du casse declined further interference in what was transacting, and retired to a house in the suburbs. this was quitting the field to an antagonist who would not fail to make his advantage of it; whose refusal to admit other witnesses to the receipt of money than those of his own appointment, was a strong indication, whatever contempt he might profess or really feel for the flibustiers, that he was himself of as stanch flibustier principles as any one of the gentry of the coast. some time afterwards, however, m. du casse thought proper to send a formal representation to the general, that it was nothing more than just that some person of the colony should be present at the receipt of the money. the general returned answer, that what m. du casse proposed, was in itself a matter perfectly indifferent; but that it would be an insult to his own dignity, and therefore he could not permit it. the public collection of plunder by authority did not save the city from private pillage. in a short time all the plate disappeared from the churches. houses were forcibly entered by the troops, and as much violence committed as if no capitulation had been granted. m. de pointis, when complained to by the aggrieved inhabitants, gave orders for the prevention of outrage, but was at no pains to make them observed. it appears that the flibustiers were most implicated in these disorders. many of the inhabitants who had complied with the terms of the capitulation, seeing the violences every where committed, hired flibustiers to be guards in their houses, hoping that by being well paid they would be satisfied and protect them against others. some observed this compact and were faithful guardians; but the greater number robbed those they undertook to defend. for this among other reasons, de pointis resolved to rid the city of them. on a report, which it is said himself caused to be spread, that an army of , indians were approaching _carthagena_, he ordered the flibustiers out to meet them. without suspecting any deception, they went forth, and were some days absent seeking the reported enemy. as they were on the return, a message met them from the general, purporting, that he apprehended their presence in the city would occasion some disturbance, and he therefore desired them to stop without the gates. on receiving this message, they broke out into imprecations, and resolved not to delay their return to the city, nor to be kept longer in ignorance of what was passing there. when they arrived at the gates they found them shut and guarded by the king's troops. whilst they deliberated on what they should next do, another message, more conciliating in language than the former, came to them from m. de pointis, in which he said that it was by no means his intention to interdict them from entering _carthagena_; that he only wished they would not enter so soon, nor all at one time, for fear of frightening the inhabitants, who greatly dreaded their presence. the flibustiers knew not how to help themselves, and were necessitated to take up their quarters without the city walls, where they were kept fifteen days, by which time the collection of treasure from the inhabitants was completed, the money weighed, secured in chests, and great part embarked. de pointis says, 'as fast as the money was brought in, it was immediately carried on board the king's ships.' the uneasiness and impatience of the flibustiers for distribution of the booty may easily be imagined. on their re-admission to the city, the merchandise was put up to sale by auction, and the produce joined to the former collection; but no distribution took place, and the flibustiers were loud in their importunities. m. de pointis assigned as a reason for the delay, that the clerks employed in the business had not made up the accounts. he says in his narrative, 'i was not so ill served by my spies as not to be informed of the seditious discourses held by some wholly abandoned to their own interest, upon the money being carried on board the king's ships.' to allay the ferment, he ordered considerable gratifications to be paid to the buccaneer captains, also compensations to the buccaneers who had been maimed or wounded, and rewards to be given to some who had most distinguished themselves during the siege;--and he spoke with so much appearance of frankness of his intention, as soon as ever he should receive the account of the whole, to make a division which should be satisfactory to all parties, that the buccaneers were persuaded to remain quiet. [sidenote: value of the plunder.] the value of the plunder is variously reported. much of the riches of the city had been carried away on the first alarm of the approach of an enemy. de pointis says mules laden with gold went out in the course of four days. 'nevertheless, the honour acquired to his majesty's arms, besides near eight or nine millions that could not escape us, consoled us for the rest.' whether these eight or nine millions were crowns or livres m. de pointis' account does not specify. it is not improbable he meant it should be understood as livres. many were of opinion that the value of the booty was not less than forty millions of livres; m. du casse estimated it at above twenty millions, besides merchandise. m. de pointis now made known that on account of the unhealthiness of the situation, he had changed his intention of leaving a garrison and keeping _carthagena_, for that already more frenchmen had died there by sickness than he had lost in the siege. he ordered the cannon of the _bocca-chica castle_ to be taken on board the ships, and the castle to be demolished. on the th of may, orders were issued for the troops to embark; and at the same time he embarked himself without having given any previous notice of his intention so to do to m. du casse, from whom he had parted but a few minutes before. the ships of the king's fleet began to take up their anchors to move towards the entrance of the harbour, and m. de. pointis sent an order to m. du casse for the buccaneers and the people of the colony to embark on board their own vessels. m. du casse sent two of his principal officers to the general to demand that justice should be done to the colonists. still the accounts were said not to be ready; but on the th, the king's fleet being ready for sea, m. du pointis sent to m. du casse the commissary's account, which stated the share of the booty due to the colonists, including the governor and the buccaneers, to be , crowns. what the customary manner of dividing prize money in the french navy was at that time, is not to be understood from the statement given by de pointis, which says, 'that the king had been pleased to allow to the several ships companies, a tenth of the first million, and a thirtieth part of all the rest.' here it is not specified whether the million of which the ships companies were to be allowed one-tenth, is to be understood a million of _louis_, a million crowns, or a million livres. the difference of construction in a large capture would be nearly as three to one. it requires explanation likewise what persons are meant to be included in the term 'ships companies.' sometimes it is used to signify the common seamen, without including the officers; and for them, the one-tenth is certainly not too large a share. that in any military service, public or private, one-tenth of captures or of plunder should be deemed adequate gratification for the services of all the captors, officers included, seems scarcely credible. in the _carthagena_ expedition it is also to be observed, that the dues of the crown were in some measure compromised by the admission of private contributions towards defraying the expence. the flibustiers had contributed by furnishing their own vessels to the service. du casse when he saw the account, did not immediately communicate it to his colonists, deterred at first probably by something like shame, and an apprehension that they would reproach him with weakness for having yielded so much as he had all along done to the insulting and imperious pretensions of de pointis. afterwards through discretion, he delayed making the matter public until the colonists had all embarked and their vessels had sailed from the city. he then sent for the captains, and acquainted them with the distribution intended by m. de pointis, and they informed their crews. chap. xxvii. _second plunder of =carthagena=. peace of =ryswick, in =. entire suppression of the =buccaneers= and =flibustiers=._ [sidenote: . may.] the share which m. de pointis had allotted of the plunder of _carthagena_ to the buccaneers, fell so short of their calculations, and was felt as so great an aggravation of the contemptuous treatment they had before received, that their rage was excessive, and in their first transports they proposed to board the sceptre, a ship of guns, on board which m. de pointis carried his flag. this was too desperate a scheme to be persevered in. after much deliberation, one among them exclaimed, 'it is useless to trouble ourselves any farther about such a villain as de pointis; let him go with what he has got; he has left us our share at _carthagena_, and thither we must return to seek it.' the proposition was received with general applause by these remorseless robbers, whose desire for vengeance on de pointis was all at once obliterated by the mention of an object that awakened their greediness for plunder. they got their vessels under sail, and stood back to the devoted city, doomed by them to pay the forfeit for the dishonesty of their countryman. the matter was consulted and determined upon without m. du casse being present, and the ship in which he had embarked was left by the rest without company. when he perceived what they were bent upon, he sent orders to them to desist, which he accompanied with a promise to demand redress for them in _france_; but neither the doubtful prospect of distant redress held out, nor respect for his orders, had any effect in restraining them. m. du casse sent an officer to m. de pointis, who had not yet sailed from the entrance of _carthagena harbour_, to inform him that the buccaneers, in defiance of all order and in breach of the capitulation which had been granted to the city, were returning thither to plunder it again; but m. de pointis in sending the commissary's account had closed his intercourse with the buccaneers and with the colonists, at least for the remainder of his expedition. m. du casse's officer was told that the general was so ill that he could not be spoken with. the officer went to the next senior captain in command of the fleet, who, on being informed of the matter, said, 'the buccaneers were great rogues, and ought to be hanged;' but as no step could be taken to prevent the mischief, without delaying the sailing of the fleet, the chief commanders of which were impatient to see their booty in a place of greater security, none was taken, and [sidenote: june.] on the st of june the king's fleet sailed for _france_, leaving _carthagena_ to the discretion of the buccaneers. m. de pointis claims being ignorant of what was transacting. 'on the th of may,' he says, 'i was taken so ill, that all i could do, before i fell into a condition that deprived me of my intellect, was to acquaint captain levi that i committed the care of the squadron to him.' if m. de pointis acted fairly by the people who came from _france_ and returned with him, it must be supposed that in his sense of right and wrong he held the belief, that 'to rob a rogue is no breach of honesty.' but it was said of him, '_il etoit capable de former un grand dessein, et de rien epargner pour le faire réussir_;' the english phrase for which is, 'he would stick at nothing.' on the st of june, m. du casse also sailed from _carthagena_ to return to _st. domingo_. thus were the flibustiers abandoned to their own will by all the authorities whose duty it was to have restrained them. the inhabitants of _carthagena_ seeing the buccaneer ships returning to the city, waited in the most anxious suspense to learn the cause. the flibustiers on landing, seized on all the male inhabitants they could lay hold of, and shut them up in the great church. they posted up a kind of manifesto in different parts of the city, setting forth the justice of their second invasion of _carthagena_, which they grounded on the perfidy of the french general de pointis ('_que nous vous permettons de charger de toutes les maledictions imaginables_,') and on their own necessities. finally, they demanded five millions of livres as the price of their departing again without committing disorder. it seems strange that the buccaneers could expect to raise so much money in a place so recently plundered. nevertheless, by terrifying their prisoners, putting some to the torture, ransacking the tombs, and other means equally abhorrent, in four days time they had nearly made up the proposed sum. it happened that two flibustiers killed two women of _carthagena_ in some manner, or under some circumstances, that gave general offence, and raised indignation in the rest of the flibustiers, who held a kind of trial and condemned them to be shot, which was done in presence of many of the inhabitants. the buccaneer histories praise this as an act of extraordinary justice, and a set-off against their cruelties and robberies, such as gained them the esteem even of the spaniards. the punishment, however merited, was a matter of caprice. it is no where pretended that they ever made a law to themselves to forbid their murdering their prisoners; in very many instances they had not refrained, and in no former instance had it been attended with punishment. the putting these two murderers to death therefore, as it related to themselves, was an arbitrary and lawless act. if the women had been murdered for the purpose of coming at their money, it could not have incurred blame from the rest. these remarks are not intended in disapprobation of the act, which was very well; but too highly extolled. having almost completed their collection, they began to dispute about the division, the flibustiers pretending that the more regular settlers of the colony (being but landsmen) were not entitled to an equal share with themselves, when a bark arrived from _martinico_ which was sent expressly to give them notice that a fleet of english and dutch ships of war had just arrived in the _west indies_. this news made them hasten their departure, and shortened or put an end to their disputes; for previous to sailing, they made a division of the gold and silver, in which each man shared nearly a thousand crowns; the merchandise and negroes being reserved for future division, and which it was expected would produce much more. the commanders of the english and dutch squadrons, on arriving at _barbadoes_, learnt that the french had taken _carthagena_. they sailed on for that place, and had almost reached it, when they got sight of de pointis' squadron, to which they gave chase, but which escaped from them by superior sailing. [sidenote: an english and dutch squadron fall in with the buccaneers.] on the d or th of june, the flibustiers sailed from _carthagena_ in nine vessels, and had proceeded thirty leagues of their route towards _hispaniola_, when they came in sight of the english and dutch fleet. they dispersed, every one using his best endeavours to save himself by flight. the two richest ships were taken; two were driven on shore and wrecked, one of them near _carthagena_, and her crew fell into the hands of the spaniards, who would have been justified in treating them as pirates; but they were only made to work on the fortifications. the five others had the good fortune to reach _isle avache_. to conclude the history of the carthagena expedition, a suit was instituted in _france_ against m. de pointis and the _armateurs_, in behalf of the colonists and flibustiers, and a decree was obtained in their favour for , , livres; but the greater part of the sum was swallowed up by the expenses of the suit, and the embezzlements of agents. the carthagena expedition was the last transaction in which the flibustiers or buccaneers made a conspicuous figure. it turned out to their disadvantage in many respects; but chiefly in stripping them of public favour. [sidenote: september. peace of ryswick.] in september , an end was put to the war, by a treaty signed at _ryswick_. by this treaty, the part of the island _st. christopher_ which had belonged to the french was restored to them. in earlier times, peace, by releasing the buccaneers from public demands on their services, left them free to pursue their own projects, with an understood license or privilege to cruise or form any other enterprise against the spaniards, without danger of being subjected to enquiry; but the aspect of affairs in this respect was now greatly altered. [sidenote: causes which led to the suppression of the buccaneers.] the treaty of between _great britain_ and _spain_, with the late alliance of those powers against _france_, had put an end to buccaneering in _jamaica_; the scandal of the second plunder of _carthagena_ lay heavy on the flibustiers of _st. domingo_; and a circumstance in which both _great britain_ and _france_ were deeply interested, went yet more strongly to the entire suppression of the cruisings of the buccaneers, and to the dissolution of their piratical union; which was, the king of _spain_, charles the iid. being in a weak state of health, without issue, and the succession to the crown of _spain_ believed to depend upon his will. on this last account, the kings of _great britain_ and _france_ were earnest in their endeavours to give satisfaction to _spain_. louis xiv. sent back from _france_ to _carthagena_ the silver ornaments of which the churches there had been stripped; and distinction was no longer admitted in the french settlements between flibustier and pirate. the flibustiers themselves had grown tired of preserving the distinction; for after the peace of _ryswick_ had been fully notified in the _west indies_, they continued to seize and plunder the ships of the english and dutch, till complaint was made to the french governor of _saint domingo_, m. du casse, who thought proper to make indemnification to the sufferers. fresh prohibitions and proclamations were issued, and _encouragement_ was given to the adventurers to become planters. the french were desirous to obtain permission to trade in the spanish ports of the _terra firma_. charlevoix says, 'the spaniards were charmed by the sending back the ornaments taken from the churches at _carthagena_, and it was hoped to gain them entirely by putting a stop to the cruisings of the flibustiers. the commands of the king were strict and precise on this head; that the governor should persuade the flibustiers to make themselves inhabitants, and in default of prevailing by persuasion, to use force.' many flibustiers and buccaneers did turn planters, or followed their profession of mariner in the ships of merchants. attachment to old habits, difficulties in finding employment, and being provided with vessels fit for cruising, made many persist in their former courses. the evil most grievously felt by them was their proscribed state, which left them no place in the _west indies_ where they might riot with safety and to their liking, in the expenditure of their booty. not having the same inducement as formerly to limit themselves to the plundering one people, they extended their scope of action, and robbed vessels of all nations. most of those who were in good vessels, quitted the west indian seas, and went roving to different parts of the world. mention is made of pirates or buccaneers being in the _south sea_ in the year , but their particular deeds are not related; and robert drury, who was shipwrecked at _madagascar_ in the year , relates, 'king samuel's messenger then desired to know what they demanded for me? to which, deaan crindo sent word that they required two _buccaneer_ guns.' at the time of the peace of _ryswick_, the darien indians, having quarrelled with the spaniards, had become reconciled to the flibustiers, and several of the old flibustiers afterwards settled on the _isthmus_ and married darien women. [sidenote: providence island.] one of the _lucayas_, or _bahama islands_, had been settled by the english, under the name of _providence island_. it afforded good anchorage, and the strength of the settlement was small, which were conveniencies to pirates that induced them to frequent it; and, according to the proverbial effect of evil communication, the inhabitants were tempted to partake of their plunder, and assist in their robberies, by purchasing their prize goods, and supplying them with all kinds of stores and necessaries. this was for several years so gainful a business to the settlement, as to cause it to be proverbial in the _west indies_; that 'shipwrecks and pirates were the only hopes of the _island providence_.' [sidenote: - . accession of philip vth. to the throne of spain.] in three years after the peace of _ryswick_, charles the iid of spain died, and a prince of the house of bourbon mounted the spanish throne, which produced a close union of interests between _france_ and _spain_. the ports of spanish america, both in the _west indies_ and in the _south sea_, were laid open to the merchants of _france_. the _noticia de las expediciones al magalhanes_ notices the great resort of the french to the _pacific ocean_, 'who in an extraordinary manner enriched themselves during the war of the spanish succession.' in the french settlements in the _west indies_ the name of flibustier, because it implied enmity to the spaniards, was no longer tolerated. on the breaking out of the war between _great britain_ and _france_ which followed the spanish succession, the english drove the french out of _st. christopher_, and it has since remained wholly to _great britain_. m. le comte de gennes, a commander in the french navy, who a few years before had made an unsuccessful voyage to the _strait of magalhanes_, was the governor of the french part of the island at the time of the surrender[ ]. during this war, the governors of _providence_ exercised their authority in granting commissions, or _letters of reprisal_; and created admiralty courts, for the _condemnation_ of captured vessels: for under some of the governors no vessels brought to the adjudication of the court escaped that sentence. these were indirect acts of piracy. the last achievement related of the flibustiers, happened in , when a party of englishmen, having commission from the governor of _jamaica_, landed on the _isthmus_ near the _samballas isles_, where they were joined by some of the old flibustiers who lived among the darien indians, and also by of the indians. they marched to some mines from which they drove the spaniards, and took negroes. they kept the negroes at work in the mines twenty-one days; but in all this exploit they obtained no more than about eighty pounds weight of gold. here then terminates the history of the buccaneers of _america_. their distinctive mark, which they undeviatingly preserved nearly two centuries, was, their waging constant war against the spaniards, and against them only. many peculiarities have been attributed to the buccaneers in other respects, some of which can apply only to their situation as hunters of cattle, and some existed rather in the writer's fancy than in reality. mariners are generally credited for being more eccentric in their caprices than other men; which, if true, is to be accounted for by the circumstances of their profession; and it happens that they are most subjected to observation at the times when they are fresh in the possession of liberty and money, earned by long confinement and labour. it may be said of the buccaneers that they were, in general, courageous according to the character of their leader; often rash, alternately negligent and vigilant, and always addicted to pleasure and idleness. it will help to illustrate the manners and qualifications of the buccaneers in the _south sea_, to give an extract from the concluding part of dampier's manuscript journal of his voyage round the world with the buccaneers, and will also establish a fact which has been mentioned before only as a matter surmised[ ]. dampier says, [sidenote: extract from dampier.] 'september the th, , arrived in the _downs_ to my great joy and satisfaction, having in my voyage ran clear round the globe.--i might have been master of the ship we first sailed in if i would have accepted it, for it was known to most men on board that i kept a journal, and all that knew me did ever judge my accounts were kept as correct as any man's. besides, that most, if not all others who kept journals in the voyage, lost them before they got to _europe_, whereas i preserved my writing. yet i see that some men are not so well pleased with my account as if it came from any of the commanders that were in the _south sea_, though most of them, i think all but captain swan, were incapable of keeping a sea journal, and took no account of any action, neither did they make any observations. but i am only to answer for myself, and if i have not given satisfaction to my friends in what i have written, the fault is in the meanness of my information, and not in me who have been faithful as to what came to my knowledge.' countenanced as the buccaneers were, it is not in the least surprising that they became so numerous. with the same degree of encouragement at the present time, the seas would be filled with such adventurers. it was fortunate for the spaniards, and perhaps for the other maritime nations of _europe_, that the buccaneers did not make conquest and settlement so much their object as they did plunder; and that they took no step towards making themselves independent, whilst it was in their power. among their chiefs were some of good capacity; but only two of them, mansvelt and morgan, appear to have contemplated any scheme of regular settlement independent of the european governments, and the time was then gone by. before _tortuga_ was taken possession of for the crown of _france_, such a project might have been undertaken with great advantage. the english and french buccaneers were then united; _england_ was deeply engaged and fully occupied by a civil war; and the jealousy which the spaniards entertained of the encroachments of the french in the _west indies_, kept at a distance all probability of their coalescing to suppress the buccaneers. if they had chosen at that time to have formed for themselves any regular mode of government, it appears not very improbable that they might have become a powerful independent state. in the history of so much robbery and outrage, the rapacity shewn in some instances by the european governments in their west-india transactions, and by governors of their appointment, appears in a worse light than that of the buccaneers, from whom, they being professed ruffians, nothing better was expected. the superior attainments of europeans, though they have done much towards their own civilization, chiefly in humanising their institutions, have, in their dealings with the inhabitants of the rest of the globe, with few exceptions, been made the instruments of usurpation and extortion. after the suppression of the buccaneers, and partly from their relicks, arose a race of pirates of a more desperate cast, so rendered by the increased danger of their occupation, who for a number of years preyed upon the commerce of all nations, till they were hunted down, and, it may be said, exterminated. of one crew of pirates who were brought before a court of justice, fifty-two men were condemned and executed at one time, in the year . finis. footnotes: [ ] _lebreles de pressa._ [ ] the name _saint domingo_ was afterwards applied to the whole island by the french, who, whilst they contested the possession with the spaniards, were desirous to supersede the use of the name _española_ or _hispaniola_. [ ] _historia general de las indias_, por _gonç. hernandez de oviedo_, lib. . cap. . also _hakluyt_, vol. iii. p. , edit. . [ ] _camden's elizabeth_, a. d. . [ ] _hist. des antilles, par p. du tertre._ paris, . tome i. p. . [ ] _la rochefort, sur le repas des carribes._ [ ] _history of brasil, by robert southey_, p. . [ ] in some of the english accounts the name is written _bucanier_; but uniformity in spelling was not much attended to at that time. dampier wrote _buccaneer_, which agrees with the present manner of pronouncing the word, and is to be esteemed the best authority. [ ] the french account says, that after taking possession of _tortuga_, the adventurers divided into three classes: that those who occupied themselves in the chase, took the name of boucaniers; those who went on cruises, the name of flibustiers; and a third class, who cultivated the soil, called themselves _habitans_ (inhabitants.) see _histoire des avanturiers qui se sont signalez dans les indes. par. alex. ol. oexmelin_. paris , vol. i. p. . [ ] the governor or admiral, who granted the commission, claimed one tenth of all prizes made under its authority. [ ] it is proper to mention, that an erroneously printed date, in the english edition of the _buccaneers of america_, occasioned a mistake to be made in the account given of narbrough's voyage, respecting the time the buccaneers kept possession of _panama_. see vol. iii. of _voyages and discoveries in the south sea_, p. . [ ] _theatro naval hydrographico._ cap. xi. see also of peche, in vol. iii. of _south sea voyages and discoveries_, p. . [ ] _not. de las exp. magal._ p. , of _ult. viage al estrecho_. [ ] _buccaneers of america_, part iii. ch. xi. [ ] 'they never forfeit their word. the king has his commission from the governor of _jamaica_, and at every new governor's arrival, they come over to know his pleasure. the king of the mosquitos was received by his grace the duke of portland (governor of _jamaica_, a. d. - ) with that courtesy which was natural to him, and with more ceremony than seemed to be due to a monarch who held his sovereignty by commission.'--'the mosquito indians had a victory over the spanish indians about years ago, and cut off a number; but gave a negro who was with them, his life purely on account of his speaking english.' _history of jamaica._ london . book i. ch, . and _british empire in america_, vol. ii. pp. & . [ ] _case of his majesty's subjects upon the mosquito shore, most humbly submitted_, &c. london, . [ ] _narrative by basil ringrose_, p. . [ ] _de rochfort_ describes this animal under the name _javaris_. _hist. nat. des isles antilles_, p. , edit. . it is also described by _pennant_, in his _synopsis of quadrupeds_, art. _mexican wild hog_. [ ] _ringrose._ _buccaneers of america_, part iv. p. . the early morning drum has, in our time, been called the _reveiller_. either that or _a travailler_ seems applicable; for according to _boyer_, _travailler_ signifies to trouble, or disturb, as well as to work; and it is probable, from the age of the authority above cited, that the original term was _à travailler_. [ ] _narrative by basil ringrose_, p. . [ ] _ringrose_, p. . [ ] _ringrose_, chap. ix. [ ] no. in the same collection is a manuscript copy of ringrose's journal, but varied in the same manner from the original as the printed narrative. [ ] _ringrose_, p. . [ ] _ringrose_ and _sharp_. [ ] _sharp's journal_, p. . [ ] _buccaneers of america_, part iii, p. . [ ] nos. . and . in the _sloane collection of manuscripts_ in the _british museum_, are probably the charts and translation spoken of above. no. . is a book of spanish charts of the sea-coast of _new spain_, _peru_, and _chili_, each chart containing a small portion of coast, on which is drawn a rude likeness of the appearance of the land, making it at the same time both landscape and chart. they are generally without compass, latitude, or divisions of any kind by lines, and with no appearance of correctness, but apparently with knowledge of the coast.--no. . is a copy of the same, or of similar spanish charts of the same coast, and is dedicated to king charles ii. by bartholomew sharp. [ ] _sharp's manuscript journal. brit. mus._ [ ] morgan continued in office at _jamaica_ during the remainder of the reign of king charles the iid.; but was suspected by the spaniards of connivance with the buccaneers, and in the next reign, the court of _spain_ had influence to procure his being sent home prisoner from the _west indies_. he was kept three years in prison; but without charge being brought forward against him. [ ] _british empire in america_, vol. ii. p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, p. . [ ] in the sloane collection, _brit. mus._ [ ] _cowley's ms. journal. sloane collection_, no. . [ ] see also _pernety's journal_, p. , english translation. [ ] _dampier's manuscript journal_, no. , _sloane collection, british museum_. [ ] the writer of commodore anson's voyage informs us that juan fernandez resided some time on the island, and afterwards abandoned it. [ ] _dampier's voyages_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] the latter part of the above extract is from cowley's manuscript.--captain colnet when at the _galapagos_ made a similar remark. he says, 'i was perplexed to form a conjecture how the small birds which appeared to remain in one spot, supported themselves without water; but some of our men informed me that as they were reposing beneath a prickly pear-tree, they observed an old bird in the act of supplying three young ones with drink, by squeezing the berry of a tree into their mouths. it was about the size of a pea, and contained a watery juice of an acid and not unpleasant taste. the bark of the tree yields moisture, and being eaten allays the thirst. the land tortoise gnaw and suck it. the leaf of this tree is like that of the bay-tree, the fruit grows like cherries; the juice of the bark dies the flesh of a deep purple.' _colnet's voyage to the south sea_, p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . this description does not agree with the spanish charts; but no complete regular survey appears yet to have been made of the coast of _new spain_. [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _ibid._ [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . to search for this wreck with a view to recover the treasure in her, was one of the objects of an expedition from _england_ to the _south sea_, which was made a few years subsequent to this buccaneer expedition. [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _manuscript journal in the sloane collection._ [ ] see _cowley's voyage_, p. . also, vol. iii. of _south sea discoveries_, p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] dampier. [ ] _wafer's voyages_, p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _journal du voyage au mer du sud, par rav. de lussan_, p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _dampier._ [ ] _voyage and description_, &c. _by lionel wafer_, p. , and seq. london, . [ ] _dampier. manuscript journal._ [ ] _wafer's voyages_, p. . [ ] _colnet's voyage to the pacific_, pp. - . [ ] _journal of a cruize to the pacific ocean, by captain david porter, in the years - & ._ [ ] _cruising voyage round the world, by captain woodes rogers, in the years to _, pp. and , d edition. london, . [ ] _wafer's voyages_, p. & seq. [ ] _dampier_, vol. i. chap. , p. . [ ] _wafer's voyages_, p. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] late observations place _acapulco_ in latitude ° ' '' n, and longitude ° ' west of _greenwich_. [ ] _dampier._ [ ] see chart in spilbergen's voyage. [ ] _dampier's manuscript journal._ [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, p. . [ ] in some old manuscript spanish charts, the _chametly isles_ are laid down se- / s about leagues distant from _cape corrientes_. [ ] according to captain vancouver, _point ponteque_ and _cape corrientes_ are nearly north and south of each other. dampier was nearest in-shore. [ ] the manuscript says, the farthest of the _chametlan isles_ from the main-land is not more than four miles distant. [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _manuscript journal._ [ ] dampier's reckoning made the difference of longitude between _cape corrientes_ and the _island guahan_, degrees; which is degrees more than it has been found by modern observations. [ ] _dampier._ _manuscript journal_, and vol. i, chap. . of his printed voyages. [ ] the ladrone flying proa described in commodore anson's voyage, sailed with the belly or rounded side and its small canoe to windward; by which it appears that these proas were occasionally managed either way, probably according to the strength of the wind; the little parallel boat or canoe preserving the large one upright by its weight when to windward, and by its buoyancy when to leeward. [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . [ ] _dampier_, vol. i, chap. . the long island is named _basseelan_ in the charts; but the shape there given it does not agree well with dampier's description. [ ] m. de surville in , and much more lately captain a. murray of the english e. i. company's service, found the south end of _monmouth island_ to be in ° ' n. [ ] _manuscript journal._ [ ] in the printed voyage, the shoal is mistakenly said to lie sbw from the east end of _timor_. the manuscript journal, and the track of the ship as marked in the charts to the st volume of _dampier's voyages_, agree in making the place of the shoal sbw from the west end of _timor_; whence they had last taken their departure, and from which their reckoning was kept. [ ] _a voyage by edward cooke_, vol. i, p. . london, . [ ] _raveneau de lussan_, p. . [ ] _'ce moyen êtoit a la verité un peu violent, mais c'etoit l'unique pour mettre les espagnols à la raison.'_ [ ] _theatro naval._ fol. , . [ ] _relation du voyage de m. de gennes_, p. . paris, . [ ] père labat relates a story of a ridiculous effort in mechanical ingenuity, in which m. de gennes succeeded whilst he was governor at _saint christopher_. 'he made an automaton in the likeness of a soldier, which marched and performed sundry actions. it was jocosely said that m. de gennes might have defended his government with troops of his own making. his automaton soldier eat victuals placed before it, which he digested, by means of a dissolvent,'--_p. labat_, vol. v. p. . [ ] see p. , near the bottom. * * * * * transcriber's note: illustrations have been moved. some sidenotes have been moved, separated or merged. some repetitive sidenotes have been deleted. the following changes were made in the transcription of this work: to settle what constitues[constitutes] occupancy. recommended to king ferdinand to recal[recall] ovando. pere[père] labat describes first cruisers againt[against] the spaniards were english ['camoes de gama': macron on e in camoes is now omitted.] vattel has decribed[described] this case. during a time of peace betwen[between] apppearance[appearance] of the land and was no[not] otherwise clad than the rest of his sqadron[squadron] the fruit is like the sea chesnut[chestnut] the same kind of maoeuvring[manoeuvring] of the _s[ta] maria de l'aguada_ and it was in[an] honour due from him who granted the commisson[commission] at _saint christopher_. [']he made an automaton by means of a dissolvent,[']--_p. labat_, [oe ligatures: ligature now omitted.] * * * * * the story of the nations. the west indies. [illustration: reception of spaniards by arawaks. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] the west indies and the spanish main by james rodway _second impression_ london t. fisher unwin paternoster square mdcccxcix copyright by t. fisher unwin, (for great britain). copyright by g.p. putnam's sons, (for the united states of america). introduction. the story of the west indies and spanish main is one to stir the hearts of many nations. the shores of the caribbean sea have been the scene of marvellous adventures, of intense struggles between races and peoples, of pain, trouble, and disaster of almost every description. no wonder that the romance writer has laid his scenes upon its beautiful islands and deep blue waters, for nowhere in the world, perhaps, could he find such a wealth of incident. from "robinson crusoe" to marryat's genial stories, and down to "westward ho!" and "treasure island," old and young have been entranced for many generations with its stories of shipwrecks, pirates, sea-fights, and treasure-seekers. yet with all this the field has not been exhausted, for hardly a year passes without a new romance dealing more or less with the "indies." under this name of the indies the islands and continent were first known to the spaniards, and it was not until some years had passed that the mainland received the name of _terra firma_. the string of islands facing the atlantic were the antilles, so called from a traditional island to the west of the azores, marked on maps and globes of the fifteenth century. this "bow of ulysses," as froude called the islands, was divided into the greater and lesser antilles, the latter being also known as the caribbees, from their original inhabitants. other divisions were made later into windward and leeward islands, but these differed so much in the descriptions of different nations that it would be as well to leave them out of the question. perhaps the best way would be to name the whole the antilles or west indian islands and divide them, in going from north to south, into the bahamas, the greater antilles, and the caribbees. when we think of these beautiful islands and shores they recall those of that other "great sea" which was such a mighty factor in the development of greece and rome, phoenicia and carthage, venice and genoa. as ulysses and Æneas wandered about the mediterranean, so the early voyagers sailed along the coasts of the caribbean sea and the gulf of mexico in fear of anthropophagoi, amazons, giants, and fiery dragons. as the indies were the scene of struggles between great nations and the raids of buccaneers, so also was the mediterranean a battlefield for christian and turk, and a centre for piracy. reports of golden cities, pearls and emeralds in profusion, and wealth that passed all description, led the spaniards to explore every island and river, until the cannibals became less alarming. yet their sufferings were terrible. hurricanes sunk their frail craft on the sea and earthquakes wrung their very souls on land. starvation, with its consequent sickness and death, destroyed one party after another, but they still went on. the discovery of the riches of mexico and peru led them to look for other rich nations, and to travel thousands of miles on the mainland, guided by the reports of the indians. undaunted by suffering and failure, they would often try again and again, perhaps only to perish in the attempt at last. the treasures of the indies made spain the greatest nation in europe. with her riches she could do almost anything. other nations bowed down before her, and she became sovereign of the seas and mistress of the world. no matter how it was obtained, gold and silver flowed into her coffers; what did she care that it was obtained by the bloody sweat of the poor indians? then came envy and jealousy. why should spain claim the whole of the new world? england, holland, and france began to dispute her supremacy and determined to get a share of the good things. the "invincible domination" of spain led her to declare war against england, with the result that the hardy sea-dogs of that time began to worry the fat galleons at sea, and to pillage the treasure depôts on the main. and here we must mention that there were two important places in the indies where spain was most vulnerable--the mona passage between hispaniola and porto rico and the isthmus of darien. through the first came the outward fleets with supplies, and on their return with gold and silver, while on the isthmus was the depôt for merchandise and the great treasure store. at these two points the enemy congregated, either as ships of war, buccaneers, corsairs, or pirates, and in their neighbourhood some of the most bitter struggles took place. there was no peace in the indies, whatever might nominally be the case in europe. englishmen's blood boiled at the atrocities of the spaniards, but we are afraid it was not love for the oppressed alone that made them massacre the spaniards whenever they got an opportunity. the poor indian received but a scant measure of justice from these very people, when as a matter of convenience they required possession of the caribbee islands. other nations took possession of smaller islands, unoccupied by spain, and from these centres continued their raids, as privateers in war, and as pirates at other times. sometimes they were united among themselves against the common enemy, sometimes at war with each other. france and holland against england, england and holland against france--nothing but quarrels and fighting. now an island changed hands, and again it was restored or recaptured. the planters were never sure of being able to reap their crops, and often had literally to superintend the estate work, armed with sword and arquebuse, while their black and white slaves cultivated the soil. now the west indies became the great training ground for three maritime nations--england, france, and holland. spain lost her prestige, and the struggle lay among her enemies for over a century. at first the three disputants for her place were equally matched; then holland dropped behind, leaving england and france to fight it out. the struggle was a very close one, which only ended with the fall of napoleon, and it was in the caribbean sea where the great check to france took place. here rodney defeated de grasse, and here nelson and many another naval officer gained that experience which served them so well in other parts of the world. here also was the scene of that great labour experiment, the african slave-trade. the atrocities of the spaniards caused the depopulation of the greater antilles, and led to the importation of negroes. whatever may be said against slavery, there can hardly be any question that the african has been improved by his removal to another part of the world and different surroundings. true, he has not progressed to the extent that was expected by his friends when they paid such an enormous sum for his enfranchisement; still, there are undoubtedly signs of progress. the white colonists in the west indies never settled down to form the nucleus of a distinct people. since the emancipation the islands have been more and more abandoned to the negroes and coloured people, with the result that although the government is mostly in the hands of the whites, they are in such a minority as to be almost lost. in cuba there appears to be such a feeling of patriotism towards their own island that probably we shall soon hear of a new republic, but elsewhere in the islands our hopes for the future must lie in the negroes and coloured people. on the mainland the original inhabitants were not exterminated as in the large islands, and consequently we have there a most interesting process in course of accomplishment--the development of one or more nations. here are the true americans, and as the gaul was merged in the frank, and the briton in the saxon, so the spaniard has been or will ultimately be lost in the american. at present the so-called spanish republics are in their birth-throes--they are feeling their way. through trouble and difficulty--revolution and tyranny--they have to march on, until they become stronger and more fitted to take their places among other nations. out of the struggle they must ultimately come, and it will be a most interesting study for those who see the result. in hispaniola we have also a nation in the course of development--an alien race from the old world. more backward than the americans, the africans of haïti are struggling to gain a position among other nations, apparently without any good result. the nation is yet unborn, and its birth-throes are distressing. we look upon that beautiful island and feel sad that such a paradise should have fallen so low. as a race the negro has little of that internal power that makes for progress--he must be compelled to move on. some are inclined to look upon him as in the course of degenerating into the savage, but we, on the contrary, believe him to be progressing slowly. in the islands belonging to european nations the influence of the dominant power is visible in the negro even when he has no trace of white blood. the french, english, or dutch negro may be recognised by his manners, and even features. in some places east indians and chinese have been imported, but these stand alone and make little impression. they are aliens as yet, and take little part in the development of the colonies. latterly the west indies have sunk into neglect by europe. except for the difficulties of the planters their history is almost a blank sheet. few know anything about the beautiful islands or the grand forests of the mainland. even the discovery of gold in guiana, which goes to confirm the reports of ralegh, three centuries ago, is only known to a few. ruin and desolation have fallen upon them since the peace of and the emancipation. even the negro--the _protégé_ of the benevolent--is no longer the object of interest he once was. cane sugar is being gradually ousted by that from the beet, and hardly anything has been done to replace its cultivation by other tropical products. yet the islands are still as lovely as they were four centuries ago, and on the continent is a wealth of interest to the naturalist and lover of the beautiful. now and again a tourist goes the round of the islands and publishes the result in a book of travel; but the countries are out of the track of civilisation and progress. possibly if the panama or nicaragua canal is ever finished things may be a little better, but at present the outlook is very dismal. in attempting to compress the story of the west indies and spanish main within the covers of one volume we have undertaken a task by no means easy. every island and every province has its own tale, and to do them all justice would require a hundred books. every west indian will find something missing--some event unmentioned which is of the greatest importance to his particular community. this is only to be expected, yet we believe that the reader will get a fairer idea of their importance when they are comprehended in one great whole. the photo block illustrations are from negatives prepared by mr. thomas b. blow, f.l.s. contents. i. page the spaniards and their victims - the native americans--the arawak and the carib--their independent spirit--their country--the character of the spaniard--he wants to convert the natives to christianity--"a ton of gold"--first spanish settlers in hispaniola--they ravage the island and are entirely cut off--the second colony oppresses the indians--repartimientos--cruelties to the indian slaves--decrease of the population--slave-hunting in other islands and on the main--resistance of the cannibals--decline of hispaniola. ii. the quest for "el dorado" - treasure-seeking and its dangers--alonzo de ojeda--the proclamation to the indians--disastrous voyage of valdivia--a cannibal story--"el dorado," the gilded one--the german knights--ambrosio de alfinger--george of spires--nicholas fedreman and others--pedro de ursua and lope de aguirre--pedro de acosta--diego de ordas and juan martinez--the quest and its dangers. iii. "singeing the spaniard's beard" - the papal bull of partition--english and french seamen in the indies--raids on the spanish possessions--master william hawkins goes to brazil--the caribs friendly to the enemies of spain--john hawkins carries negroes from africa--francis drake's attack on nombre de dios--the simaroons--drake captures the panama train--john oxenham--andrew barker--drake's second voyage--he captures st. domingo and carthagena--last voyage of drake and hawkins--death of drake--exploits of other adventurers. iv. ralegh and the first british colonies - "letters patent" to ralegh--"el dorado" again--ralegh's first voyage to guiana--keymis and berrie--the dutch in guiana--charles leigh founds a settlement--robert harcourt's colony--ralegh's imprisonment--he is released to again visit guiana--disastrous results--roger north's colony--king james's want of policy--changes after his death--st. christopher's and barbados--north's colony again--the bahamas--the french and dutch settlements--rise of the dutch--the french and english at st. christopher's. v. buccaneers, filibusters, and pirates - the buccaneers of hispaniola--tortuga--bay of campeachy--privateers turning pirates--pierre legrand--captains de basco and brouage--captain lawrence--montbar the "exterminator"--lolonois--morgan storms and captures panama--he settles down in jamaica--van horn--raid on the south sea--lionel wafer's journey across the isthmus. vi. war in the young colonies - spanish raids--effects of the "great english revolution"--the caribbee islands in revolt--cavaliers and roundheads in barbados--charles the second declared king--lord willoughby arrives with a commission from the fugitive--persecution of the roundheads--sir george ayscue sent out with a fleet to reduce barbados--the island blockaded--its surrender--surinam held for the king--cromwell and spain--the expedition to st. domingo--capture of jamaica--colonisation of the island--the council for foreign plantations. vii. the planters and their slaves - first adventurers not agriculturalists--slaves wanted--negroes imported--sugar--cotton--tobacco--first plantations--kidnapping-- prisoners transported--english slave-trade--comparative cost of negroes and whites--rebels--story of henry pitman--condition of the bond-servants--life of the planter--dangers of the voyage--jamaica--slavery in africa--treatment of the west indian slave. viii. the struggle for supremacy - trade disputes between england and holland--war--the buccaneers employed--repulse of de ruyter at barbados--capture of dutch colonies by english--the french drive the english from st. kitt's--abortive attempts for its recapture--peace of breda--the value of the buccaneers to jamaica--character of the three nations now contending for supremacy--case of surinam--english refused permission to leave with their slaves--war again--peace of westminster and the exodus from surinam--case of jeronomy clifford--sir henry morgan represses buccaneering--another war--du casse and the corsairs--jacques cassard--curious position of berbice--cassard takes curaçao--his downfall. ix. the struggle for the darien trade - carthagena and porto bello fairs--the trade of the isthmus--the joint-stock mania--william paterson and the darien scheme--caledonia and new edinburgh founded--destruction of the colony--the _assiento_ contract--the great south sea bubble--vain attempts of the english to obtain free trade with the spanish provinces--attacks on the logwood cutters of campeachy--war with spain--contraband traders and their losses--captain jenkins' ear--another war with spain--admiral vernon takes porto bello--his failure at carthagena--english exploits. x. slave insurrections and bush negroes - sufferings of the planters from war--barbados alone as having never fallen to the enemy--internal difficulties--ferocity of slaves and cruelty of their punishments--the maroons of jamaica and bush negroes in guiana--slave insurrections--abortive plots in barbados--troubles in jamaica--revolt in antigua--the great slave insurrection in berbice--the whites driven from the colony--haunts of the guiana bush negroes--surinam in continual fear of their raids--expeditions sent against them--treaties--great insurrection in jamaica and suppression of the maroons. xi. the sovereignty of the seas - downfall of spain--england and france--contraband traffic of the dutch and danes--advantages of neutrality--the jews in the islands--they support the buccaneers--the great war--england against the world--admiral rodney--his abortive fights with de guichen--the training of his fleet--he captures st. eustatius and confiscates private property--capture of demerara--outcry against rodney--british disasters--rodney appears again--his decisive victory over de grasse--peace and its results--the great struggle with france and her allies--british supremacy--peace of amiens--war again--nelson in the west indies--the american war--decline of the plantations from the abolition of the slave-trade. xii. downfall of hispaniola - results of the french revolution--the friends of the blacks--the rights of man--civil disabilities of free coloured people--agitation in the french colonies--james ogé--demand of the coloured people for equal rights--civil war in hispaniola--"perish the colonies"--great slave insurrection--the whites concede equal rights, but the convention revokes their original decree--truce broken--the struggle renewed--devastation of the colony--the british expedition and its failure--toussaint l'ouverture--slavery abolished--it is re-established by napoleon--treachery to l'ouverture and the negroes--dessalines and christophe declare the independence of hayti--massacre of the whites--the empire and republic. xiii. emancipation of the spanish main - influence of the french revolution on spanish america--miranda vainly attempts to rouse venezuela--revolution at caracas--simon bolivar--struggle for independence--atrocities of both parties--bolivar proclaims extermination to the royalists--spanish successes--the british legion--devastation of the country--the columbian republic--guatemala. xiv. abolition of slavery - agitation against slavery by the quakers--abolition of the african slave-trade--effects of this on the plantations--condition of the slave--registration--rising in barbados--the protestant missionaries arrive--opposition of the planters--ordinance against preaching and teaching slaves passed in jamaica--the anti-slavery party in england--amelioration of the condition of the slave--insurrection in demerara--prosecution and conviction of the rev. john smith--emancipation in the british colonies--its effect on colonies of other nationalities--insurrection at st. croix--total abolition of slavery in the west indies. xv. results of emancipation - ruin of the planters--difficulty of procuring labour--abolition of the differential duties--immigration--barbados an exception when ruin fell on the other colonies--labour laws in french, danish, and dutch colonies--another insurrection in st. croix--race prejudice causes riots in demerara--insurrection at jamaica--confederation riot at barbados. xvi. the isthmus transit schemes - nelson's expedition to the san juan--miranda's project--importance of a canal--central america--effects of the discovery of gold in california--the panama railway--canal projects--darien again--the _times_ and the nicaragua project--ship railway--lesseps and the panama canal--difficulties of the work--its downfall--character of lesseps--the nicaragua canal. list of illustrations. page .--reception of spaniards by arawaks. from gottfried's "reisen" _frontispiece_ .--reception of spaniards by caribs. from gottfried's "reisen" .--a corner of paradise. the victoria regia .--_en route_ to the goldfields of guiana. passing the rapids of the essequebo .--worrying the natives with dogs. from gottfried's "reisen" .--a modern alluvial gold washing .--suicides. from gottfried's "reisen" .--a guiana river. the tumatamari falls .--inhabitants of the spanish main. from colijn's "reisen" .--"el dorado." from gottfried's "reisen" .--negro woman returning from market .--negro barber .--negro family on holiday .--negresses gossiping .--ralegh in trinidad. from gottfried's "reisen" .--gold hunting. from gottfried's "reisen" .--carib attack on a settlement. from gottfried's "reisen" .--st. kitt's. from andrews' "west indies" .--a surinam planter. from stedman's "surinam" .--a negro festival. from edwards' "west indies" .--voyage of the sable venus. from edwards' "west indies" .--slaves landing from the ship. from stedman's "surinam" .--map of _terra firma_. from gottfried's "reisen" .--a rebel negro. from stedman's "surinam" .--the execution of breaking on the rack. from stedman's "surinam" .--march through a swamp. from stedman's "surinam" .--trelawny town. from edwards' "west indies" .--pacification of the maroons. from edwards' "west indies" .--view of part of hispaniola. from andrews' "west indies" .--la guayra on the main. from andrews' "west indies" .--the first of august. from madden's "west indies" .--a relic of the slavery days--old slave buying fish .--negress, guiana .--negress fish-sellers, guiana .--chinese wood-carrier .--east indian coolie .--east indian coolie family .--coolie barber .--east indian coolie girl .--coolie women, british guiana .--coolie vegetable sellers, british guiana .--east indian coolies, trinidad .--east indian coolie, trinidad .--trinidad coolies .--barbados. from andrews' "west indies" .--st. lucia. from andrews' "west indies" .--atlantic entrance to darien canal. from cullen's "darien canal" .--europe supported by africa and america. from stedman's "surinam" [illustration] the west indies. i. the spaniards and their victims. when the early writers spoke of america as the new world, _mundus novus_, they could hardly have appreciated the full meaning of the name. true, it was a new world to them, with new animals, new plants, and a new race of mankind; but the absolute distinctness of everything, especially in the tropical regions, was not understood. with our fuller knowledge the ideas of strangeness and novelty are more and more impressed, and we are ready to exclaim, yes! it is indeed a new world. unlike those of the eastern hemisphere, the peoples of the west are of one race. apart from every other, the development of the american indian has gone on different lines, the result being a people self-contained, as it were, and unmodified until the arrival of the european. the american is perhaps the nearest to the natural man, and his character is the result of nature's own moulding. when compared with the european or asiatic he seems to be far behind, yet the civilisation of peru and mexico was in some respects in advance of that of their conquerors. this was brought about by a dense population which forced men into collision with each other--in other parts of the continent and on the islands they were more isolated and therefore less civilised. in the forest region of the spanish main, and on the west indian islands, the communities were, as a rule, very small and isolated one from another. a kind of patriarchal system prevented much communication, and inter-tribal disputes were a bar to union. every community distrusted every other, and even when one tribe fought against its neighbour there were few attempts to bring the sections together against the common enemy. on the coasts and islands of the caribbean sea, at the time of their discovery, lived two distinct peoples, the arawaks and the caribs. there were also a few other tribes of minor importance, such as the warrows, but these made little impression, and may therefore be left out of consideration. the remnants of the two great stocks still exist in guiana and at the mouth of the orinoco, living to-day in much the same manner as they did when the country was first discovered by the spaniards. four centuries ago the greater antilles were exclusively inhabited by arawaks, and the lesser by caribs. the arawak, as his name implies, was more or less an agriculturalist--a meal-eater, a cultivator of vegetables, mainly cassava. from the poisonous root of this plant bread, drink, and a preservative sauce for meat, were prepared, so that, with game or fish, it formed the staff of life. the probable course of his migration was from yucatan or mexico to the south-east, terminating in guiana, and from thence north through the whole of the antilles. when columbus arrived people of this stock filled the larger islands and the bahamas, but along the coast and in the island of trinidad they disputed the occupation of the territories with the caribs. in porto rico also the caribs had become aggressive, and even in hispaniola the arawaks had to defend their shores against that warlike people. if we believe the accounts of the spaniards the inhabitants of the greater antilles were not altogether a savage people. whether they had destroyed all the larger game, or whether they found none on their arrival, the fact remains that they were agriculturalists rather than huntsmen. they were, however, expert in fishing, and built great canoes with sails, in which they carried on their operations even in comparatively rough water. their provision grounds were highly praised by the spaniards in language that could hardly apply to little clearings like those in the guiana forest. in them were grown, besides cassava, yams, sweet potatoes, and maize, while other things such as cotton and tobacco were also largely cultivated. the natives had also acquired several arts besides that of canoe building, which, when we consider their want of proper implements, was almost wonderful. cotton was spun and woven into cloth for their scanty garments, gold cast and hammered into figures and ornaments, and wood and stone idols and weapons were also carved. all this was done with stone implements, even to the work of hollowing great logs for their canoes, and shaping planks. we read of axe-heads made of _guanin_, an alloy of gold and copper, and also of attempts to make similar tools of silver, but these were very rare, and could hardly have been utilised to any good purpose. when we appreciate the labour and pains taken in excavating a large canoe, with only fire and the stone adze, we can see that these people were by no means idle. nor were they altogether wanting in appreciation of art, for the figures on their baskets and pottery were beautifully true geometrical patterns, and their so-called idols, although grotesque and rude, often striking. on the mainland the arawaks lived in small communities, only electing a war-chief as occasion required--in haïti the cacique seems to have been leader and ruler as well. and here we must mention the most striking characteristic of the american indian--his utter abhorrence of anything like coercion. even in childhood his parents let him do as he pleases, never attempting to govern him in any way. it followed therefore that neither war-captain nor cacique had any real power to compel them to a course they disliked, and that discipline was entirely wanting. the traveller in guiana at the present day can thoroughly understand this trait of character, for he has to take it into account if he wishes to get their assistance. they must be treated as friends, not as servants, and the greatest care taken not to offend their dignity, unless he wishes to be left alone in the forest. [illustration: reception of spaniards by caribs. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] they quarrelled little among themselves, and only fought against the caribs; they were peaceable, kind, and gentle, so hospitable to strangers that columbus could hardly say enough in their favour. "a better race there cannot be," he declared to his sovereigns, and this opinion was confirmed by all who came into contact with them. in fact if you do nothing to offend him, the arawak of to-day is the same quiet and gentle fellow who met the voyagers on their arrival at guanahani. the caribs were a stronger race, and had probably followed the same track as the arawaks in a later migration. at the time of the discovery they appear to have driven the more gentle race from the smaller islands south of porto rico, and had taken their women as wives. all along the coast the two tribes fought with each other, but on account of the greater stretch of country there was nothing like the extermination which took place in the lesser antilles. the arawaks retired up the rivers and creeks, leaving their enemies to take possession of the coast, which they did to such good purpose that the spaniards were unable to get a footing in guiana. all the early writers agree that the caribs were man-eaters--in fact the word cannibal seems to have been derived from their name. in the smaller islands they had eaten all the men of the gentler tribe, and now made periodical raids on the larger, from whence they carried off prisoners to be cooked and devoured at leisure. these raids led to combinations on the part of the inhabitants of haïti and porto rico, and hitherto they had been successful in preventing anything like an occupation of these islands by their enemies. whether these successes would have continued is doubtful; the arrival of the spaniards upset everything. the carib was not so entirely dependent on the produce of the soil as the meal-eater. he was a hunter and fisherman, but above everything else a warrior. his women had provision grounds like those of the arawak, possibly because they came from that stock. the carib's hunting grounds were circumscribed and poor, and his craving for meat could only be appeased in one way--by eating his enemies. probably this made him all the more fierce and bloodthirsty, as a flesh diet is certainly more stimulating than one of fish and starchy tubers. if the arawak was impatient of control, the carib was even more independent. the former would pine away and die under coercion, the latter refused absolutely to be a slave. he would die fighting for his liberty, but never admit that he was conquered. it was not he who welcomed the spaniards to the west indies--on the contrary, he did everything possible to prevent their landing on his shores. his so-called treachery caused many difficulties to the new-comers, but taken altogether he was much respected by them as a foe worthy of their steel. these two peoples lived in a country which columbus described as a veritable paradise--in fact he thought he had discovered the site of the garden of eden. into this beautiful world he let loose a band of robbers and murderers, to depopulate and make it a wilderness. they were the product of an entirely different environment--a continent in which every man's hand was against that of his neighbour. for a long time spain had been a battlefield, on which the most warlike instincts of mankind came to the front. her soldiers understood the advantages of discipline, and would follow their leaders wherever anything was to be gained, yet at the same time they were individuals, and as such fought for their own hands as well. [illustration: a corner of paradise. the victoria regia.] like the rest of christendom spain was very religious, and after treasure-seeking, the adventurers of that nation meant to convert the heathen. the cross was erected everywhere on landing, and religious services held to pray for help in their undertakings. if the cruelties that followed were not quite in accordance with christ's teachings we must put it down to the manners and customs of the age. ignorance was really the great characteristic of that period, and the brilliancy of the few only shone out the brighter because of the dark background. the majority were steeped in superstition, and almost entirely dominated by their passions. columbus was continually harping upon the desirability of making the natives of the new world christians. "your highness," he said, in one of his letters, "ought to rejoice that they will soon become christians, and that they will be taught the good customs of your kingdom." he took nine of them to spain, on his return from the first voyage, who were baptized and taught the spanish language. the king and queen told him to deal lovingly with those in the indies, and to severely punish any who ill-treated them. more were sent to spain and allowed to go back for the purpose of "gaining souls." columbus, however, did not altogether agree with his sovereigns--his project was to send enough as slaves to pay the expenses of his expeditions, and he actually shipped four lots for that purpose. but ferdinand and isabella would not have this, and even went so far as to prohibit the deportation of the caribs notwithstanding the admiral's argument that they were unworthy of the royal clemency, because they ate men and were enemies of the friendly arawaks. [illustration: en route to the goldfields of guiana. passing the rapids of the essequebo.] how the new world was discovered in has been told so often that it is hardly necessary to repeat the story. haïti, named hispaniola or little spain, was chosen from the first as the island on which a settlement should be planted. here columbus left thirty-nine colonists under the command of diego de arana, and under the protection of the great cacique guacanagari. he "trusted to god" that on his return he would find a ton of gold and a large quantity of spices, with the proceeds of which his sovereigns might undertake the conquest of jerusalem from the infidels. a ton of gold! this was the whole end and aim of his expedition. everything else was subordinate to this. he had seen the natives wearing gold ornaments, and found that the precious metal could be gathered from certain streams on the island. but, could he estimate the amount of labour required to procure such an enormous quantity, by people who had no other appliances than baskets? this alone was enough to bring trouble upon the peaceful island. but this was not all. the colonists quarrelled among themselves, interfered with the indian women, went hunting for gold all over the country, took it wherever it could be found, and stole provisions when their friends did not bring them enough. not satisfied with the district of the friendly cacique, they ravaged that of caonabo, the carib chieftain of another clan, a man of a different stamp. he resented the insults at once by attacking the spaniards, who, notwithstanding the assistance of their allies, were utterly exterminated. when columbus arrived, instead of a ton of gold, he found nothing but the blackened ruins of the fort and houses. this should have been a lesson to the spaniards, but unfortunately it only led to further quarrels. the new-comers did not intend to cultivate the soil; their main object was treasure, and they expected the natives to provide them with food. and here we must mention the fact that the people of tropical climes _never_ have any store of provisions laid up--this is only necessary where winter prevails for half the year. it follows therefore that however liberal they may feel towards strangers, their supplies being restricted to their own wants leave little to give away. up to a certain point the indian gives freely, but when this means privation to himself he withholds his hand. the want of a full appreciation of this fact caused great trouble in many of the early settlements, and in some cases led to their destruction. the natives promised food supplies; but when they found themselves starving, naturally withheld further assistance. the settlers considered this a breach of faith, and made incursions on the provision grounds, taking what they wanted, and seriously injuring the crops. this the indians resented, and deadly quarrels ensued, which ended in their driving out the colonists or deserting the place altogether. in the latter case the food supply was necessarily cut off, and often led ultimately to the abandonment of the colony. to the kindly people of hispaniola the new-comers were gods, and their horses and cattle preternatural creatures. while wondering and admiring, they were at the same time frightened at these out-of-the-way men and animals, especially when the soldiers exhibited themselves on horseback. at first they thought them immortal, and were disagreeably surprised when they fell before the army of caonabo. but even the proverbial worm will turn, and soon the oppressions of the second colonists drove the poor haïtians to resist. to labour in the field was beneath the dignity of the adventurous treasure-seekers--the natives must supply them with provisions. what they had brought from spain was soon spoilt in such a hot climate--no one had yet learned how to pack for long voyages. they must get food, and what was the good of having thousands of people, and acres of cultivated land in their neighbourhood, if the natives did not bring in as much as was required? at first they were supplied willingly, but when the results of this profuse hospitality began to tell upon themselves, the poor haïtians withheld their hands. then the spaniards began complaining to the cacique, who, however, had no real authority over his people in a matter of this kind, and therefore could do nothing. driven by want the spaniards made incursions on the provision grounds, where they spoilt as much as they took away, and left a waste behind. sometimes they met with resistance, and the defenders were cut down without mercy. the spoilers only wanted an excuse for fleshing their swords; they were even anxious to show their powers, and make the natives feel that at last they had masters. [illustration: worrying the natives with dogs. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] before two years had passed the spaniards were beset with difficulties. the indian looked despairingly at his wasted fields, and refused to cultivate them any longer. why should he plant for others when he himself was starving? some fled into the mountains and forests of the interior, others died of want. this naturally told upon the white men, who had not yet learnt that they must cultivate the soil if they wanted its produce. they could not demean themselves to this, but must have the power to compel the inhabitants and owners of this beautiful island to work for them. the home authorities knew what was going on, and did their best according to their lights to provide a remedy. at first they gave large tracts of land to the settlers, _repartimientos_ as they were called, but what was the use of these if their owners could get no labourers? then to every grant was allotted a certain number of indians as slaves, and thus the cruel system that ultimately depopulated the greater antilles and the bahamas was introduced. those who were not allotted as slaves were compelled to pay tribute. in the neighbourhood of the gold-washings this was to consist of a little bellful of gold; in other places of an arroba ( lbs.) of cotton, once a quarter for every person above the age of fourteen. metal tokens to hang upon the neck were given as receipts, and when these were absent the people were severely punished. thus this gentle and independent race was enslaved. [illustration: a modern alluvial gold washing.] even with modern appliances and the use of quicksilver, gold-washing is a most precarious business; what then could it have been here with nothing but a basket and gourd? columbus had such exaggerated ideas that, when he saw the gold-washings of cibao, he came to the conclusion they were the ophir of the bible; from his reports the king and queen thought nothing of demanding this small tribute. to the indian, however, the gleaning of the tribute meant the labour of days and weeks, and when there were so many seekers it was found utterly impossible for each to gather his amount. then they ran away, and were hunted with dogs, brought back, and compelled to wash the gravel under surveillance, subject to the pricks of a sword if they were not active enough. but, even with all this, the returns were not equal to what was expected, and the tribute had ultimately to be abandoned. however, it was stated that as much as the value of a million crowns per annum was extracted during the best years, at a cost of pain and suffering awful to contemplate. [illustration: suicides. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] the cotton tribute had also to be abandoned, and even the _repartimientos_ were not a success. if they had been willing, the natives could hardly have performed steady work, and as slaves they were almost valueless. in their natural condition they laboured when they chose, wasting time as we should say with little good result. now their masters demanded heavy tasks which prevented their working on their own provision grounds, and yet provided little or nothing in the way of rations. hundreds died of starvation; thousands committed suicide. some jumped from high precipices; they hanged, stabbed, drowned, and poisoned themselves; mothers destroyed their babes to save them from the misery of living. if caught in such attempts they were flogged, had boiling water or melted lead poured over them, and were otherwise tortured until death came to their relief. their cruel masters, however, rarely wished to kill them outright--they were too valuable. no, they must break down this dogged, stubborn spirit--treat them as horses and mules, until they bent themselves to the yoke. it was left for bands of soldiers on foraging expeditions to kill in mere wantonness. a company would be travelling through the island and come upon a village, where perhaps they stopped for a short rest. the people looked on, admiring their shining armour and weapons, wondering what sort of creatures these were that so quietly cropped the grass and shrubs. one of the soldiers would take out his sword, feel its keen edge, and think what a pity it was that the weapon should be used so little. behind him comes a little boy. the temptation is great; in a moment the sharp weapon flashes and the child lies dead. the indians fly, and the whole party follows, chasing and slaughtering to their heart's content, not knowing nor caring why. in a few minutes fifty are killed, the soldiers return to their bivouac, and if they inquire into the matter at all pass it off as a good jest. is it any wonder that the population decreased to a wonderful degree in a few years? the sugar-cane had been introduced by columbus on his second voyage, and labour was soon required for cultivating this and other crops. as long as slaves were procurable the planters throve, and as by that time hispaniola had become the great centre of the indies, the settlers were in a fair way to make fortunes. but the decrease in the population became alarming, and something had to be done; then, new settlers were continually arriving who also wanted slaves. it followed, therefore, that some of the more audacious of the adventurers took up the trade of kidnapping the indians from other islands and the mainland. a host of disappointed treasure-seekers had ransacked every shore, and were now well prepared for the business of man-hunting. the first people to suffer were those who so kindly welcomed columbus on his arrival--the gentle inhabitants of the bahamas. they were even more peaceful than the haïtians, because they had not suffered from carib invasions. when the slave hunters told them to come to the south and live with their ancestors, they willingly allowed themselves to be carried off to suffer like their neighbours. some ran away and got to the northern shores of hispaniola, where they stretched out their hands to their beautiful homes and then died of grief. having entirely depopulated the smaller islands, and being prevented from kidnapping the people of cuba, porto rico, and jamaica, by the settlers on those islands, they tried the caribbees. here they met their match. no longer was it the gentle arawak whom they encountered, but the ferocious cannibal. like his foes he had been trained in war for many generations. not only did he refuse to work for the stranger, but even went so far as to oppose his landing. on his islands was little to attract the treasure-seeker, and if he would not submit to be a slave, nothing was to be gained by interfering with him. this the spaniard found out by bitter experience. a few vessels were wrecked on these inhospitable shores, the crews of which escaped to land only to be killed and eaten, after being tortured with all the ingenuity of the savage. even a landing for fresh water had to be made in the most cautious manner, and the carriers protected by a strong guard. no doubt the caribs had heard of the white man's cruelties from their arawak prisoners, and were therefore all the more ready to repel their invasions. this was particularly noticeable later when the english and french arrived and found them by no means so ferocious as the spaniards had reported. possibly they knew these people to be enemies to their foes, and were therefore all the more ready to be friendly as long as no attempts were made to oppress them. hispaniola rose to some importance very quickly, and almost as quickly declined. the settlers depopulated the island, and then complained of the want of labourers. the gold-seekers went elsewhere, and mexico and the isthmus of darien became of more importance. some writers have attempted to give the number of indians exterminated in the early years of the sixteenth century, but little reliance can be placed on their statistics. generally, they range from one to three millions, but it is doubtful whether even the lowest figure is not too high. yet, when we read the statement of columbus that crowds of people (in one place two thousand) came forth to meet him, and his description of the large area of cultivated land, as well as the broad and good roads, it is not difficult to conceive that a million people lived in these great islands. with the destruction of the labourers down fell the plantations. cattle had been introduced and throve wonderfully; now they ran wild over the islands, especially hispaniola, until they became innumerable. on the abandoned provision grounds of the indians they found a virgin pasturage. hogs also took to the woods, and increased even faster than the cattle. at first there were neither huntsmen nor carnivorous animals to check this wonderful development. the once domesticated animals recovered some of the powers and capacities of their wild ancestors, and only required enemies to assist in bringing out other latent characters. and these were not long wanting. large and powerful hounds had been imported from spain to hunt the runaway indians, and now that their occupation was gone, they also took to the woods and savannahs. like their ancestors and cousins, the wolves, they combined into packs and fought the cattle and hogs. both hunters and hunted became stronger and fiercer--the dogs learnt how best to attack, and their prey to defend themselves. it was a struggle like that between the cannibals and meal-eaters--nature's method of preserving the balance of life. this equalisation no doubt would have been the result had not man interfered; how this happened we must leave to another chapter. [illustration] [illustration] ii. the quest for "el dorado". ophir was not found in the islands, and the bands of adventurers went over to _terra firma_ or the mainland to continue the search. along the coast of guiana and venezuela they again came across the gentle arawak and ferocious carib, the latter making himself respected everywhere, while his poor-spirited fellow-countryman was alternately caressed and plundered. in every place the spaniards found gold ornaments, and every tribe told them that the precious metal was only obtainable in some far distant country. the haïtians sent columbus to the south in search of the _guanin_ country, and it was there he discovered the coast of paria and the delta of the mighty orinoco. but he was not fated to come across the treasure cities of the indies. others followed to at last conquer mexico and peru, but even then it was generally believed that nations existed who had more riches to be plundered than those of the inca and montezuma. to find these golden regions the voyagers wandered in every direction, contributing much to the knowledge of the coasts and rivers, but always coming back disappointed. the horrors of this search can hardly be appreciated nowadays. the ships were so small and ill-found that we should hardly care to use them for coasters, yet in them these pioneers crossed the atlantic and encountered the hurricanes of the west indies. decked only at bow and stern, the waves dashed into the hold and wetted the provisions, while the sun poured down upon the water casks and burst their wooden hoops. the butter and cheese stank, the flour in sacks became mouldy, and the bacon and salt fish putrid. then the hull of the vessel was unprotected, and the teredo, or ship worm, bored it through and through, until nothing but careening and caulking could save the poor craft from sinking. when we understand the privations and dangers of this navigation we are not surprised that the adventurers often came to grief, but rather wonder that any of them survived. living in the west indies, we have often thought of the pain and suffering it would produce if we were compelled to walk or sit in the burning sun armed as were the soldiers at that period. we can hardly believe that they wore steel body armour, yet the evidence is too strong to be refuted. true, they gave it up afterwards in favour of quilted cotton, but before they did so how hot they must have felt! we can fancy the sentry standing exposed to the full blaze of the sun, his helmet and breastplate burning hot and his woollen underclothing saturated with perspiration. then there would be the open boat ascending a river. the occupants dared not row in the shade for fear of cannibals shooting at them with poisoned arrows from the thicket, and out in the river they must have felt as if in a furnace. even with our white clothing and light hats a long journey in an open boat when the sun is high often ends in fever, and almost invariably in a headache. the neck and backs of the hands get blistered, and become sore, the glare on the water dazzles the eye, and we feel faint. in one of the accounts of such a boating expedition on a river in guiana we read of the men finding some yellow plums floating on the water, and of their being much refreshed by them. we also have come across these hog-plums when almost exhausted by a long exposure on the open river, and when even our negro steersman was nodding as he held the paddle. suddenly we came to our destination, the mouth of a creek, and were under an arcade of vegetation, beneath which the plums floated on the cool dark water. the men of the sixteenth century must have been stronger than ourselves, or they could hardly have endured such pain and privation. they lay down on the bare earth night after night, and on board ship went to sleep on naked planks. as they could endure pain and discomfort, so also could they inflict it on others. the rough seamen learnt to bear hardships which blunted their feelings of humanity and made them inclined to torture others. when in the hands of the cannibals they were almost as stoical as the savage himself, their ruling passion being a desire for revenge. if cruelly treated by one tribe they retaliated on others; in the same way the indians killed one party of spaniards to avenge the insults of their countrymen. this led to a great deal of trouble and made the voyages of the treasure-seekers dangerous to all. however free from blame one party might be, they were liable to suffer for previous wrong-doings and they in turn left behind them injuries to be avenged on the next comers. [illustration: a guiana river. the tumatamari falls.] and then, how very audacious these adventurers were! alonzo de ojeda was perhaps the most striking example of utter recklessness in face of danger. in he entered the harbour of carthagena in spite of a warning that its shores were inhabited by a ferocious tribe who fought with palm-wood swords and poisoned arrows. it was even stated that the women mingled in the battle, and could use the bow and a kind of lance. these people had been irritated by another party of spaniards, and on sight of the vessels were up in arms at once. however, ojeda was undaunted, and landed at once with his men and some friars, who had been sent to convert the indians. in front stood the enemy brandishing their weapons, and prepared for the first hostile movement. yet, even under these critical circumstances, he ordered the usual proclamation to be read to the indians in a language of which they knew nothing. he, alonzo de ojeda, servant of the most high and mighty sovereigns of castile and leon, conquerors of barbarous nations, notified them that god had given st. peter the supreme power over the world, which power was exercised by the pope, who had given all that part of the world to these sovereigns. they were called upon to acknowledge this sovereignty at once, which, if they refused to do, he would bring upon them the horrors of war, desolation to their houses, confiscation of their property, and slavery to their wives and children. [illustration: inhabitants of the spanish main. (_from colijn's "reisen."_)] while one of the friars read this address the savages stood on the defensive, no doubt wondering what the delay meant. ojeda knew not their language, and they took little notice of his signs of amity. as they still brandished their weapons, the intrepid adventurer led on an attack, calling the virgin to his aid, and in a few minutes put them to flight, killing a few and taking others prisoners. not content with this, he followed them through the forest to their village, and after a deadly fight, drove them out and burnt their dwellings. still undaunted, he went on to another village, which he found deserted, but while his men were searching for plunder he was attacked by the enemy in overwhelming numbers. all his followers were killed, and he himself wounded with a poisoned arrow, yet he managed to escape into the forest to suffer hunger and thirst in addition to the pain of his wound. meanwhile his men on board the ships were wondering what had become of their leader and his party. they were afraid to venture far into the woods on account of the yells and shouts of the indians, who were celebrating their triumph. at last, however, they commenced a search, and found their captain in a mangrove swamp, lying on a tangle of roots, speechless and dying of hunger, yet still clutching his naked sword and bearing his buckler. notwithstanding all this, he ultimately recovered, to go on as eagerly as ever in making fresh conquests. later, the proclamation to the indians was interpreted to them, sometimes eliciting replies very much to the point. when the bachelor enciso went in search of the country of zenu, where gold was so plentiful that it could be collected in the rainy season in nets stretched across the river, he was opposed by two caciques, to whom the paper was read. they listened courteously, and, when it had been expounded, said they were quite willing to admit that there was one god, the ruler of heaven and earth, whose creatures they were. but as to the pope's regency and his donation of _their_ country to the king of spain, that was another thing altogether. the pope must have been drunk when he gave away what was not his, and the king could only have been mad to ask him for the territory of others. they, the caciques, were the rulers of these territories, and needed no other sovereign: if their king came to take possession they would cut off his head and stick it on a pole, as they did the heads of their other enemies, at the same time pointing to a row of grisly skulls impaled close by. their arguments, however, were useless, for enciso attacked, routed them, and took one of the caciques prisoner. the accounts of the early voyagers are full of such examples of audacity as well as of endurance of suffering. the perils of the sea were as great as those of the land, but few voyages were as disastrous as that of valdivia, who in sailed from darien for hispaniola. when in sight of jamaica, his vessel was caught in a hurricane and driven upon some shoals called the vipers, where it was dashed to pieces. he and his twenty men barely escaped with their lives in a boat without sails, oars, water, or provisions. for thirteen days they drifted about, until seven were dead and the remainder helpless. then the boat stranded on the coast of yucatan, and the poor wretches were captured by indians, to be taken before their cacique. they were now put into a kind of pen to fatten for the cannibal festival. valdivia and four others were taken first, and the horror produced on their comrades led them to risk everything and break out of their prison in the night. having succeeded in reaching the forest, they were almost as badly off, for no food could be had, and they dared not run the risk of going near the villages. almost perishing with hunger, they at last reached another part of the country, to be again captured, and kept as slaves. finally they all died except two, one of whom at last escaped to tell the tale almost by a miracle. one of the stories is suggestive of "robinson crusoe." in niño and guerra sailed from spain in a bark of fifty tons, and, while exploring the gulf of paria, came across eighteen carib canoes filled with armed men. the savages assailed them with flights of arrows, but the sudden boom of the cannon frightened them away at once. one canoe, however, was captured, in which they took a carib prisoner, and found an arawak captive lying bound at the bottom. on being liberated, the arawak informed the spaniards, through their interpreter, that he was the last of seven who had been taken by the cannibals. the other six had been killed and eaten one after another, and he had been reserved for the next evening meal. the spaniards, incensed against the man-eater, gave him into the hands of the arawak, at the same time handing him a cudgel, leaving his enemy unarmed. immediately the arawak sprang upon him, knocked him sprawling, trod his breath out of his body, and at the same time beat him with his fist until nothing but a shapeless corpse remained. but, not yet satisfied, he tore the head off and stuck it on a pole as a trophy. after the conquest of mexico and peru had rewarded cortez and pizarro, others wished to be equally fortunate. from the indians came reports of golden countries in the interior, and land expeditions were projected. these reports grew into shape, and at last a quest as romantic as that for the holy grail, led one adventurer after another on and on, to starvation, sickness, and death. the germ of the story of "el dorado," the lake of golden sands, and the glittering city of manoa, appears to have first arisen in new granada. here was the lake of guatavita, and before the arrival of the spaniards this was the scene of an annual religious festival. to the genius of the lake the cacique of the neighbouring district offered a holy sacrifice on a certain day. in the morning he anointed his body with balsam, and then rolled himself in gold dust until he became a "gilded king." then, embarking in a canoe with his nobles, he was paddled to the centre of the lake, crowds of people thronging its shores and honouring him with songs and the din of rude instrumental music. offerings to the god of the lake were made from the canoe, gold, emeralds, pearls, and everything precious being scattered upon the water. finally, the cacique jumped in himself and washed the gold from his body, while the people shouted for joy. to wind up the festival a great drinking bout was held, when canoesful of piwarree, the indian's beer, were drunk, and every one made merry. such was the tradition--for the ceremony had been discontinued half a century before--which had so impressed itself over the northern shores of south america, as to be told from the amazon to the isthmus of darien. "el dorado" was gilded every morning, and his city was full of beautiful golden palaces. it stood on the edge of the great salt lake parima, the sands of which were composed of the precious metal. some went so far as to say that they had seen the glittering city from a distance, and were only prevented from reaching it by the peculiar difficulties of the way. not to mention tigers and alligators, starvation and sickness, there were "anthropophagoi and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders," besides amazons and fiery dragons. wherever the story was told the golden city was located at a far distance, and it seemed ever to recede before the eager seekers. they sought it in the forest and on the savannah, over the lofty peaks of the andes, and along the banks of the mighty rivers. the whole of the spanish main was explored, and places then visited which have hardly been seen again by the white man down to the present date. the quest began in new granada, and from thence it shifted to venezuela. the most daring seekers were german knights, the welsers of augsburg. they had received charters from charles the fifth, under which they were empowered to found cities, erect forts, work mines, and make slaves of the indians. one of their representatives, ambrosio de alfinger, set out in , accompanied by two hundred spaniards, and a larger number of indians, laden with provisions and other necessaries. on the journey the party committed such brutalities upon the poor natives that the reports afterwards helped to fire the blood of englishmen, and make them bitterly cruel. to prevent the bearers from running away they were strung together on chains, running through rings round their necks. if one of them dropped from sickness or exhaustion, his head was cut off, the ring loosened, and thus the trouble of interfering with the chain saved. if he were to be left behind, it did not matter whether he was alive or dead. at one place on the river magdalena the frightened natives took refuge on some islands, but the spaniards swam their horses across and killed or took prisoners the whole of them. from their cacique alfinger got booty to the value of sixty thousand dollars, with which he sent back for further supplies. but, although he waited for a year his messengers did not return, and the company were reduced to such straits that many died for want of bare food. but the indians fared much worse, for their provision grounds were utterly destroyed, and what with murders and starvation the surrounding country was quite depopulated and desolate. even alfinger had to give up waiting for his supplies and move on at last, for these had been utilised by his lieutenant on an expedition of his own. the party eked out a bare subsistence with wild fruits and game. if they found a village they plundered it of everything it contained, dug up the provisions from the fields, and left the survivors of the massacre to starve. not that they themselves were in a much better plight; fever, the result of want and exposure, carried them off in continually increasing numbers. at last they got into a mountain region, and the poor naked bearers were frozen to death. descending again they encountered stronger and fiercer tribes, by whom they were defeated, the cruel alfinger himself dying two days afterwards from his wounds. a small remnant only returned after two years' absence, leaving a track of pain and suffering to make their memory accursed for many generations. george of spires now fitted out a great expedition of three hundred infantry and two hundred cavalry, which started in . they also went a long distance into the interior, braving hardships and dangers almost incredible. jaguars carried off their horses, and even went so far as to attack and kill several of the indian bearers and one spaniard. like their predecessors, they also encountered savage indians, and died of starvation and sickness. after journeying fifteen hundred miles from the coast they had to return unsuccessful; but as their leader was less cruel than alfinger, the losses of the party were not so great. instead of dying on the journey he lived to become governor of venezuela. nicholas fedreman followed the last party with supplies, but took them to go treasure-seeking on his own account. he wandered about for three years, and at last returned with some wonderful stories which induced others to continue the search. herman de quesada also travelled about for a year, and returned like his predecessors. then philip von huten, who had gone already with george of spires, fitted out a great expedition. his party was at one time so utterly famished that they had to eat ants, which they captured by placing corn cobs near the nests of these little creatures. they travelled in a great circle without knowing where they went, and at the end of a year came back to the place from whence they had started. hearing, however, of a rich city called macatoa, von huten started again, and found streets of houses with about eight hundred inhabitants, but no treasure. the people here sent him on farther, with their tales of the omaguas, a warlike people living away in the south. on he went for five days, and at last came upon what he thought must be the golden city. it stretched away as far as the eye could reach, and in the centre was a great temple. but, although the little party charged gallantly down a hill and into the town, the omaguas came out in such force that they had to retreat, bearing their wounded leader in a hammock. continually harassed by indians, they at last got back, to tell such stories of the dangers of the quest that the omaguas seem to have been afterwards left alone. our account of the search for "el dorado" is necessarily short and imperfect, as it would be impossible even to enumerate all the expeditions. there is one, however, that was so tragic and awful, that, although it was fitted out in peru, it must yet be mentioned in the story of the spanish main. [illustration: "el dorado." (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] notwithstanding the enormous quantities of gold and silver found in peru, the crowds of needy treasure-seekers who went to that country gave some trouble to the viceroy, who appears to have been willing to get rid of them at any cost. whether he purposely sent them on a "wild goose chase," or whether he really believed the "el dorado" story, is doubtful, but it is certain that he thought it prudent to give them employment in some way, to prevent mischief in his province. the expedition was put in command of pedro de ursua, and was intended to go down the amazon in search of treasure cities. embarking on the river huallaga, in the year , they had hardly passed the mouth of ucayali before ursua found he had a most unprincipled gang of scoundrels under his command. a little farther down the river they mutinied, under the leadership of lope de aguirre, and murdered ursua and his lieutenant, appointing guzman as captain. being dissatisfied, however, with their new commander, they also killed him a little later, together with most of his adherents. now aguirre became leader--a ruffian whose character was of the blackest. father pedro simon delineates his features and character, making him out to be a very devil. he was about fifty years of age, short of stature and sparsely built, ill-featured, his face small and lean, his beard black, and his eyes as piercing as those of a hawk. when he looked at any one he fixed his gaze sternly, particularly when annoyed; he was a noisy talker and boaster, and when well supported very bold and determined, but otherwise a coward. of a very hardy constitution, he could bear much fatigue, either on foot or horseback. he was never without one or two coats of mail or a steel breastplate, and always carried a sword, dagger, arquebuse, or lance. his sleep was mostly taken in the day, as he was afraid to rest at night, although he never took off his armour altogether nor put away his weapons. simon said he had always been of a turbulent disposition; a lover of revolts and mutinies; an enemy to all good men and good actions. such was the tyrant or traitor aguirre--virtually a madman--who now became the leader of a band of wretches like-minded to himself. they journeyed down the mighty river, now and again murdering one or another of the party, on the least suspicion of their dislike to their proceedings, and ill-treating the natives everywhere. aguirre was not ashamed to boast that he had murdered a woman--not an indian, but a beautiful spanish lady, who had accompanied her lover on this arduous journey. donna inez de altienza, a young widow, fell passionately in love with ursua, who was brave, generous, and handsome; and loath to part with him, she undertook the hitherto unheard-of journey of thousands of miles in a strange and savage country. no fears or terrors daunted this devoted woman until after the death of her lover. aguirre then picked a quarrel on the ground that her mattress was too large for the boat, and she also was murdered. the spanish poet, castellanos, thus laments the cruel deed:-- "the birds mourned on the trees; the wild beasts of the forest lamented; the waters ceased to murmur; the fishes beneath the waters groaned; the winds execrated the deed when llamoso cut the veins of her white neck. wretch! wert thou born of woman? no! what beast could have such a wicked son? how was it that thou didst not die in imagining a treason so enormous? her two women, 'midst lamentation and grief, gathered flowers to cover her grave, and cut her epitaph in the bark of a tree-- 'these flowers cover one whose faithfulness and beauty were unequalled, whom cruel men slew without a cause.'" whether aguirre reached the mouth of the amazon is doubtful--the evidence is in favour of his getting out of that river into the rio negro, and from thence into the orinoco. however this may have been, he arrived at last in the gulf of paria and proceeded to the island of margarita. here, true to his character, he and his men commenced to plunder and kill the inhabitants, going so far as to defy the local authorities and even the king of spain himself. to even enumerate the deeds of this band of outlaws would fill a chapter, but we cannot omit giving an extract from aguirre's letter to his king, one of the most curious productions ever written:-- "i firmly believe that thou, o christian king and lord, hast been very cruel and ungrateful to me and my companions for such good service, and that all those who write to thee from this land deceive thee much, because thou seest things from too far off. i and my companions, no longer able to suffer the cruelties which thy judges and governors exercise in thy name, are resolved to obey thee no longer.... hear me! o hear me! thou king of spain. be not cruel to thy vassals.... remember, king philip, that thou hast no right to draw revenues from these provinces, since their conquest has been without danger to thee. i take it for certain that few kings go to hell, only because they are few in number; if they were many, none of them would go to heaven. for i believe that you are all worse than lucifer, and that you hunger and thirst after human blood; and further, i think little of you and despise you all; nor do i look upon your government as more than an air bubble.... "in the year the marquis of canete entrusted the expedition of the river of amazons to pedro de ursua, a navarrese, or, rather, a frenchman, who delayed the building of his vessels till . these vessels were built in the province of the motilones, which is a wet country, and, as they were built in the rainy season, they came to pieces, and we therefore made canoes and descended the river. we navigated the most powerful river in peru, and it seemed to us that we were in a sea of fresh water. we descended the river for three hundred leagues. this bad governor was capricious, vain, and inefficient, so that we could not suffer it, and we gave him a quick and certain death. we then raised don fernando de guzman to be our king.... because i did not consent to their evil deeds they desired to murder me. i therefore killed the new king, the captain of his guard, his lieutenant-general, four captains, his major-domo, his chaplain who said mass, a woman, a knight of the order of rhodes, an admiral, two ensigns, and five or six of his servants. i named captains and sergeants, but these men also wanted to kill me, and i hanged them. we continued our course while this evil fortune was befalling us, and it was eleven months and a half before we reached the mouths of the river, having travelled for more than a hundred days over more than fifteen hundred leagues. this river has a course of two thousand leagues of fresh water, the greater part of the shores being uninhabited, and god only knows how we ever escaped out of that fearful lake. i advise thee not to send any spanish fleet up this ill-omened river, for, on the faith of a christian, i swear to thee, o king and lord, that if a hundred thousand men should go up, not one would escape.... "we shall give god thanks if, by our arms, we attain the rewards which are due to us, but which thou hast denied us; and because of thine ingratitude i am a rebel against thee until death." he and his band of outlaws ravaged the settlements of venezuela for some time, until at last, on a promise of pardon, all left him save llamoso, the murderer of lady inez. aguirre had a daughter, a girl of twelve to fourteen, and when he found that all was lost he resolved to kill her. they were living at a country house, and when llamoso brought the news of the desertion of his men, he snatched up a loaded arquebuse and rushed into his child's room, saying, "commend thyself to god, my daughter, for i am about to kill thee, that thou mayest not be pointed at with scorn, nor that it be in the power of any one to call thee the daughter of a traitor." a woman snatched the weapon from his hand, but, drawing his poniard, he stabbed the girl in the breast, saying, "die! because i must die!" rushing then to the door, he found the house surrounded by spanish soldiers, who compelled him to surrender, and almost immediately took him out to be shot. this put an end to treasure-seeking on the amazon, but the search for "el dorado" had been going on and was still continued along the banks of the orinoco. the first attempt to reach the golden city by this river appears to have been made by pedro de acosta about the year , but after most of his men had been killed and eaten by the cannibals, he was compelled to abandon his project. after him came diego de ordas, the following year, whose expedition became afterwards famous. he, however, found nothing himself, although he went as far as the mouth of the caroni--it was from one of his men that the "el dorado" story was gleaned. by some accident the whole of the gunpowder was exploded, and this being attributed to the negligence of the munitioner, juan martinez, he was sentenced to be put in a canoe, without paddles or food, and allowed to drift at the mercy of the current. what became of the culprit was not known, but some months afterwards a strange white man was brought by some indians to margarita. he was wasted by sickness, naked, and apparently destitute, but, through the kindness of a ship-captain, he got a passage to porto rico, and was there placed in a religious house, under the care of some dominican friars. here he became worse, but when on the point of death he presented his friends with two gourdsful of gold beads to pay for the repose of his soul; he also declared himself to be juan martinez, and told the wonderful story of his adventures. after being cast adrift, the canoe floated down the stream until evening, when it attracted the attention of some indians, who paddled out from the shore and rescued martinez from his perilous situation. these were guianians, who had never before seen a white man, and therefore resolved to take him to their king as a curiosity. he was, however, blind-folded to prevent his seeing the direction they were taking, and led on and on, through forest and over mountain, for fifteen days, until a great city was reached. arriving here at noon, his bandage was taken off, and martinez feasted his eyes upon a great plain covered with houses, the roofs of which glittered in the sun as if made of gold. as far as his eye could reach stretched this marvellous assemblage of palaces. in the centre dwelt the great king, but, although the party travelled the whole of that and the next day, they did not reach the palace until evening. here martinez was well treated, and allowed to walk about the city, but not beyond it. he remained for seven months, saw the great lake on the shore of which the city of manoa stood, and handled its golden sands. however, he was not content to remain, and after repeated petitions to be allowed to depart, was at last furnished with guides and as much gold as they could carry. arrived at the orinoco, the cannibals fell upon the party, stole all the treasure save that hidden under some provisions in the two gourds, and left them destitute. after enduring many privations martinez, however, got a passage in an indian canoe to margarita, from whence he expected to go to spain and report his discovery to the king. what amount of truth, if any at all, was contained in the story is doubtful. it does not appear to have been told at once, but gradually leaked out, becoming more marvellous as it spread over the west indies. adventurers flocked to the orinoco, and at least a score of expeditions went in search of "el dorado." under the command of bold adventurers one party after another entered into the forest, some never to return or to be heard of again. the remnant sometimes came back starving, and broken down with sickness. we read of one juan corteso that he marched into the country, but neither he nor any of his company did return again. gaspar de sylva and his two brothers sought el dorado, but fell down to trinidad, where all three were buried. jeronimo ortal, after great travail and spending all his substance, died on a sudden at st. domingo. father iala, a friar, with only one companion and some indian guides, returned with gold eagles, idols, and other jewels, but when he essayed to pass a second time was slain by indians. alonzo de herera endured great misery, but never entered one league into the country; he also was at last slain by indians. antonio sedenno got much gold and many indian prisoners, whom he manacled in irons, and of whom many died on the way. the tigers being fleshed with the dead carcases assaulted the spaniards, who with much trouble hardly defended themselves from them. sedenno was buried within the precincts of the empire of the gilded king, and most of his people perished likewise. augustine delgado came to an indian cacique, who entertained him with kindness and gave him rich jewels, six seemly pages, ten young slaves, and three nymphs very beautiful. to requite these manifold courtesies he took all the gold he could get and all the indians he could lay hold on, to sell for slaves. he was afterwards shot in the eye by an indian, of which hurt he died. and so we might go on to tell of the thousands of people murdered and tens of thousands carried off as slaves; every gold ornament was stolen, provision grounds destroyed, and the forest tracks strewn with the corpses of those who had been massacred, and marked out by the graves of their murderers. sometimes treasure and slaves were recaptured and no one left to tell the tale, but more often a few escaped to fight over the booty and perhaps be hanged as mutineers on their return. the men of that age were undoubtedly great--great warriors, great ruffians, great villains. only here and there can we distinguish a good man like las casas, who did his very best for the indians against the opposition of the settlers and the lukewarmness of the spanish court. he was horrified at the atrocities in the indies, but the kings wanted their tithes and cared little how they were obtained. "get it honestly if you can, but get it," seems to have been their motto, and it was not for many years that anything like humanity was shown, and then only by a few priests. [illustration] [illustration] iii. "singeing the spaniard's beard." on the discovery of the indies, ferdinand and isabella at once applied to pope alexander the sixth to secure the rights of spain in the new countries against every other nation, but more especially against portugal. accordingly, the celebrated "bull of partition" was issued on the th of may, , giving, conceding, and assigning for ever, to them and their successors, all the islands and mainlands already found or that might be discovered in future, to the west of a line, stretching from the north to the south poles, a hundred leagues from the azores or cape de verde islands, provided they were not in the possession of any other christian prince. the sovereigns were commanded to appoint upright, god-fearing, skilful, and learned men to instruct the inhabitants in the catholic faith, and all unauthorised persons were forbidden to traffic on or even approach the territories. if they did so they would incur the indignation of almighty god and of the blessed apostles peter and paul. such was the gist of the document under which the enormities mentioned in the preceding chapters were committed. portugal, except for some disputes about brazil, accepted this arrangement, but the other great nations of europe, especially england, disputed it from the very beginning. nevertheless, the governments, as long as they were at peace with spain, took no active part in the matter, but left the work to individuals, even going so far in some instances as to disclaim their responsibility for piracies committed beyond the seas. english and french seamen, hearing of the treasure continually imported into spain, soon found their way to the new world, and as early as the year precautions had to be taken against them. orders were sent to build castles on the coasts and strong houses, not only for defence against the cannibals, who continued to ravage the larger islands, but to protect the settlements from french corsairs who had already commenced their depredations. the tract of the spanish fleets led them first to st. domingo, and thence on to the isthmus of darien or panama, where at first the chief port was nombre de dios. at these two points it was of great importance that fortifications should be erected, and this was done in the first half of the sixteenth century. an english merchant named thomas tison seems to have been the first of our nation who went to the west indies, but he got his goods sent from bristol to spain. in king henry viii. fitted out the _dominus vobiscum_ and another vessel for those parts, but little is known of their course. it was, however, reported that they went to porto rico, and got there a cargo of brazil wood, and then proceeded to st. domingo, where permission was asked to trade. after waiting for the license two days the spanish batteries fired upon them, driving them off to go back to porto rico, where the inhabitants were more friendly. from this time the corsairs and rovers became more numerous and audacious every year. some went trading among the indians of the mainland, others, more bold, forced their goods upon the spanish settlements under threats of pillage. in the inhabitants of havana paid seven hundred ducats to a french corsair to save the city, and because later the pirate was chased by three spanish vessels, which he captured, he returned and exacted a second ransom. in there was a gallant fight in the harbour of santiago de cuba, between a spaniard and a french corsair. the two vessels fought with each other the first day until sunset, when a truce was agreed to, and civilities exchanged between the captains. they sent each other presents of wine and fruit, were very friendly, and mutually agreed to fight only by day with swords and lances. artillery, they agreed, was an invention of cowards--they would show their valour, and the one who conquered should have the other's vessel. the second day they fought again until evening without either being conquered, and again they exchanged courtesies. that night, however, the spanish captain, diego perez, sent to the people of the city asking if they would compensate him for the loss of his ship if the corsair got the better of him; if they agreed to do this he would risk his life in their service. were he not poor and without any other property, he would not have asked them, and as they would be gainers by his victory, he did not think his request at all extravagant. but the authorities refused to pledge themselves to anything, leaving perez to fight for his own honour, life, and property. the battle continued the whole of the third day, each giving the other time for rest and refreshment, yet neither was conquered, although many had fallen on both sides. after similar courtesies the fight went on next morning, and when evening came the frenchman promised to continue it next morning. feeling, however, that the spaniard was likely to get the better of him, he slipped his cable in the night and made off, leaving perez to grieve at the drawn battle. the same year havana was sacked and burnt, and three years later both english and french did great injury to the spanish trade. even portugal did not escape, but when complaints were sent to the king of france, he said he intended to follow those conquests and navigations which by right belonged to him. in five french vessels captured the pearl-fishing fleet near the main, which the owners were compelled to ransom; at the same time they were forced to buy seventy negroes from the captors. the frenchmen then took santa martha and got a thousand ducats as ransom. one raid after another took place until the spaniards were at their wits' ends. forts were built, _guarda-costas_ stationed, and other precautions taken, but the depredations and forced traffic still continued. they cruelly punished all who fell into their hands, and this led to retaliation, not only for their own injuries, but to avenge the slaughter of the innocent natives. about the year master william hawkins made three long and famous voyages in the ship _paul_. hakluyt said he went to brazil--a thing very rare in those days to our english nation. he became so friendly with the indians that one of their kings came to england in his vessel, and was exhibited to king henry, who marvelled to see this savage representative of royalty. unfortunately the poor fellow died on the return voyage, which made hawkins fear for the white hostage he had left behind. however, his explanation was accepted, and his man given back unharmed--a result all the more pleasing, as he knew so little of the language, and might easily have been misunderstood. this is an example of the good feeling of these people towards englishmen and all who treated them fairly. even the cannibals became more gentle under good treatment, and would allow the enemies of spain to land on their shores without opposition. by this time the natives of the greater antilles were gone, and with them the thousands of captives from the mainland. then began the importation of negroes, first from spain, where the portuguese had sold a fair number during the previous century, and then from africa. spain could not send and fetch the negroes on account of the papal bull, which reserved the savage countries east of the line to portugal. it followed, therefore, that, as spain claimed the indies, so her sister country claimed the whole of africa--a claim as little respected by other nations as that of her neighbour. [illustration: negro woman returning from market.] hearing that there was a good market for negroes in the west, captain (afterwards sir) john hawkins, in , got up an expedition to supply this demand. with three vessels of , , and tons respectively, he sailed to sierra leone, and partly by the sword and partly by other means, got three hundred slaves, whom he carried to hispaniola. here he had a reasonable sale, probably forced, for he trusted the spaniards no farther than he thought prudent, considering his strength. his returns were so good, however, that he not only loaded his own vessels with hides, ginger, sugar, and some pearls, but also freighted two hulks to send to spain. [illustration: negro barber] [illustration: negro family on holiday.] this success induced him to make another venture on a larger scale with the _jesus_ of lubeck, of , and three other vessels of , , and tons. he sailed for africa in october, , to kidnap slaves, yet all the time he was very religious in a way. his orders concluded with the commands to "serve god daily; love one another; preserve your victuals; beware of fire; and keep good company"--_i.e._, do not stray from others of the fleet. at several places he took negroes by force, losing a few of his men in the fights, and with a good number set off for the west indies. fortunately, he said, although they were in great danger from a gale on this voyage, they arrived without many deaths of either the negroes or themselves. for "the almighty god, who never suffereth his elect to perish, sent us, on the th of february ( ), the ordinary breeze." [illustration: negresses gossiping.] the first land they sighted was dominica, where they watered, and then went on to margarita, the governor of which island refused them permission to trade. they then tried several other places, including hispaniola and cumaná, but also without success. at barbarota they forced the people to traffic, and here they were joined by captain bontemps, a french corsair, with whom they went to curaçao, and forced a hundred slaves upon the inhabitants. finally they went to rio de la hacha and defeated a body of spanish troops, after which the remainder of hawkins' cargo was freely sold. in his third voyage, on which he started in october, , hawkins was accompanied by francis drake and several other gentlemen adventurers. he took a similar course to that of his former voyages, joined some african chiefs in storming a town, and received, as his share of the booty, five hundred prisoners, with whom he again sailed for the indies. the alarmed spaniards dared not refuse to trade, and consequently he soon sold his negroes at a good profit. on his return, however, he was caught in a storm near the coast of florida and had to take shelter in the harbour of vera cruz, where at first his vessels were taken for a spanish fleet then daily expected. under this mistake several influential persons came on board, two of whom were retained as hostages. next day the spanish fleet, consisting of thirteen sail, arrived, and on board one of them was the new viceroy of mexico. from this high authority hawkins got permission to repair his ships, victual, and refit, provided the english kept themselves to a small island in the harbour, for the due performance of which they gave twelve hostages. but the spaniards were not prepared to let their enemies off so easily, and made preparations for a surprise. hawkins, becoming suspicious, sent to inquire about certain shady transactions, and was at once attacked by something like a thousand men. the spaniards sunk three of his vessels, seriously damaged the fourth, and left him with only one leaky ship in which to find his way home. a great number of his men were killed and others captured, the prisoners to be taken to mexico and there cruelly used. two of them--miles philips and job hortop--managed to escape and return to england, where they gave long accounts of their sufferings, the latter comparing himself to his namesake the patriarch. as for hawkins, in speaking of his return voyage, he said, that "if all the miserable and troublesome affairs of this sorrowful voyage should be perfectly and thoroughly written, there should need a painful man with his pen, and as great a time as he had that wrote the lives and deaths of the martyrs." this disaster put an end to hawkins' slave-trading, but made no impression on the other adventurers to the indies. francis drake now took up the quarrel, and in the year "singed the spaniard's beard" to some purpose. knowing already something of the state of affairs near the isthmus, he resolved to gain his spurs in that direction. he cared not for a forced trade in negroes, but virtually went in for piracy, for although the relations of the mother countries were at that time somewhat strained, war had not yet been declared. drake sailed straight for nombre de dios, the treasure port, arrived suddenly before the inhabitants had any warning, and landed a hundred and fifty men in the night. suddenly the town was roused to the fact that the enemy were in possession, and as the people ran off to the forest, they asked each other what was the matter. unfortunately for drake, however, through a misunderstanding, the english were alarmed and took to their vessels, so that all the advantage of the surprise was lost. undaunted by this failure, he determined to attempt something even more audacious--the capture of the panama train. we have already seen that african slaves had been imported in considerable numbers; we have now to mention that on the continent they often escaped into the forest. here they lived like the indians, and were often in friendship with them, going under the name of simerons, or afterwards maroons. always at enmity with the masters whom they had deserted, they were a terror to the settlers on account of their continual raids on the plantations. drake determined to get the assistance of these people, which was freely given, and he was enabled to traverse the pathless forest and to lie in wait for the train of mules carrying gold and silver from panama to nombre de dios. this he captured, but, on account of the difficulties of the way, was obliged to leave the silver behind, and content himself with the gold. then he attacked some merchants, burnt their goods to the value of two hundred thousand ducats, and got safely back to his ships just as the dilatory spaniards sent out three hundred men for his capture. it was on this excursion that he saw the great south sea, and determined to carry english ships into that immense spanish preserve. how he carried out his resolve, and appeared suddenly off the peruvian coast five years later, is a story we must leave, as it belongs to another part of the new world. when drake returned to plymouth the news of his adventures, and the more substantial evidence of the gold he had brought, roused others to follow his example. among them was one john oxnam, or oxenham, who has been immortalised by kingsley in "westward ho!" arriving at the isthmus in , in a vessel of tons, he went to an out-of-the-way river, and hid his bark among the great trees. landing with his seventy men, he went in search of the simerons, who took him to a river which flowed into the south sea, where a pinnace was built. in this the english pulled down to the pacific, with the intention of capturing one of the treasure ships coming to panama. they succeeded so far as to get sixty thousand dollars in gold from one bark, and a hundred thousand from another. not yet satisfied, they went to the pearl islands, attacked the negro divers, and took a few pearls, with which they at last returned up the river. unfortunately for oxenham the negroes of the pearl islands carried the news of his presence to panama, and in two days four boats with a hundred men were sent in pursuit. they found the two barks, which had been released, and from their captains learnt where the englishmen had gone. following up the river they were at a loss when they came to three branches, but spying some freshly plucked feathers floating down one of the streams, they followed that until they came upon the pinnace. six men were on guard, one of whom was killed, but the other five escaped and gave the alarm to their comrades. pursuing their track through the forest the spaniards found the store of treasure hidden away under boughs of trees. with this they would have gone back had not oxenham attacked them with two hundred simerons before they reached their boats. being more skilful in bush fighting than the english, the spaniards repulsed the party, killing eleven and taking seven prisoners, from whom they learnt that the delay was caused by the difficulty of transporting the treasure. now the news was sent to nombre de dios, and the authorities there found the english vessel and brought her away, thus cutting off the means of escape for those still lurking in the forest. then an expedition was sent in search of them, and they were found building canoes. some were sick and could make no resistance, the others fled and took refuge with the negroes, by whom they were ultimately betrayed and taken to panama. here oxenham was interrogated as to his authority for the raid, and was obliged to admit that he had not his queen's license. all except five boys were executed, the men at once, and the officers a little while afterwards at lima. thus ended one of the most audacious attacks on the spaniards which only failed through a little want of calculation. hakluyt, who wrote the account, said the enemy marvelled much to see that although many frenchmen had come to these countries, yet never one durst put foot upon land; only drake and oxenham performed such exploits. when the news reached spain the king was so alarmed that he sent out two galleys to guard the coast, which in the first year after their arrival took six or seven french vessels, and put a stop to their piracies for a time. there was another class of raids in the indies, of which that of andrew barker, of bristol, was an example. he, and one captain roberts, going to trade in the canary islands, had their goods confiscated, and were put in prison, from which roberts escaped and barker was ultimately discharged. to recoup his losses and revenge himself, barker fitted out several vessels in , in which he went trading to the main, and afterwards committed acts of piracy. he took a small vessel off margarita and a frigate near carthagena, from which he got five hundred pounds' weight of gold and some emeralds. now, following the example of drake, he landed on the isthmus to get help from the simerons, but could find none. then, from the unhealthiness of the climate, most of his men fell sick, and eight or nine died, which made him give up this part of his project. embarking again he took another spanish vessel with some gold, but after that the party got into difficulties. barker quarrelled with his ship-master, and one of the vessels became so leaky that they had to let her sink, first removing the cargo into the last spanish prize. they, however, captured another vessel with a hundred pounds of silver and some provisions, but after that the crews mutinied and put barker ashore with some others, where they were attacked by spaniards, and nine, including the captain, killed. the mutineers then went on to truxillo, which they surprised, but could find no treasure, and were soon driven to flight by a spanish vessel. on their way home the spanish vessel sunk, carrying down two thousand pounds' worth of their booty, and on their arrival at plymouth they were imprisoned as accessories to their captain's death. although none were executed, yet, says the worthy hakluyt, "they could not avoid the heavy judgment of god, but shortly after came to miserable ends." open war soon came, and culminated in the invasion of england by the "invincible armada" of . no longer could there be any question of the queen's license, and in drake, now sir francis, fitted out a great fleet to cripple the power of spain in the indies. the spanish authorities were no longer unprepared, but ready to give him a warm reception all along his expected course. the fleet consisted of twenty-five vessels, with two thousand three hundred men, among whom could be found many whose names are famous in the annals of queen elizabeth. at the cape de verde islands they burnt the town of santiago in revenge for the murder of a boy, and after this baptism of fire, proceeded to the island of st. christopher's, where they landed the sick, cleaned their vessels, and spent christmas. leaving at the end of december, on the st of january, , they arrived off hispaniola with the intention of attacking st. domingo. the english landed about ten miles distant from that city, marched upon the spaniards unawares, and took it by surprise, notwithstanding every preparation that had been made, and the careful watch for enemies from the sea. drake demanded a large ransom, and because it was not paid at once, commenced to demolish the buildings, which brought the inhabitants to their senses and made them offer the sum of , ducats (about £ , ), which he accepted. from thence the fleet sailed to carthagena, where no opposition was made until the troops landed, when a great struggle took place in the streets. the spaniards had erected barricades, behind which they succeeded in doing some execution, but only delayed the surrender for a short time. after a portion of the town had been burnt, , ducats were paid as ransom for the remainder, and after a few less brilliant exploits, the fleet went back to england, being thus hurried on account of sickness among the men. otherwise, drake had intended to capture nombre de dios and panama, but from this disability had to be content with booty to the amount of £ , , which would mean something like a quarter of a million at the present value of money. he arrived in time to help in repelling the armada, and this invasion kept most of the english about their own shores for a year or two. in , when there were no longer any fears of a spanish landing, drake determined on another voyage, and this time with sir john hawkins. getting together six of the queen's ships and twenty-one other vessels, they arrived safely at the caribbee islands, where hawkins became sick and died. drake then went on to porto rico and attacked the capital, but could do nothing more than capture a few vessels from under the guns of the forts. going to the main he captured rio de la hacha and a fishing village named rancheria. these he held for ransom, but was dissatisfied with the number of pearls offered by private persons, the governor refusing to give anything, and burnt both town and village. santa martha was also taken, and then nombre de dios, but he found that the treasure had been removed, the inhabitants taking to the forest when they heard his fearful name. sir thomas baskerville took seven hundred and fifty men to go over to panama, but returned much discouraged by the difficulties of the road. drake finally burnt nombre de dios and every vessel in the harbour down to the smallest boats. after that, sickness began to tell upon the expedition, and drake himself was stricken with dysentery. when on the point of death he rose from his bed, put on his full dress of admiral, called his men and gave them a farewell address, then, sinking down exhausted he died immediately afterwards. several captains and other important officers also died, and they even lost the chief surgeon; after that, nothing was left but to return home. off cuba they were attacked by a spanish fleet of twenty vessels, sent out to intercept them, with which they kept up a running fight until the enemy were left behind. on their arrival in england in may, , the sad news of the death of drake overshadowed all the glory of the expedition. in spain, however, it was published for general information, and the people congratulated each other that at last their enemy was gone. henry savile, in his "libel of spanish lies," said "it did ease the stomachs of the timorous spaniards greatly to hear of the death of him whose life was a scourge and a continual plague to them." no wonder that the news was so grateful, for none was so daring, and no name like that of drake ever came to be used as a bogey with which to frighten their children. yet there were many gallant adventurers in the indies at that very time. sir robert dudley and sir walter ralegh were both at trinidad in , and for several years before and after the english rovers were plentiful in the gulf of mexico. in the _content_ was successfully defended against six spanish men-of-war, and the galleons were obliged to sail in large squadrons. what with the dangers of storms and the enemy, it was stated that of a hundred and twenty-three vessels expected in spain during that year, only twenty-five arrived safe. the number of rovers became at last so great that plunder was difficult to obtain. the spanish settlers were in continual fear, and naturally took every precaution against their enemies, hiding the treasure on the least alarm, and taking to the forest. the french corsairs were not far behind the english, although as yet they had no proper licenses, and only fought for their own hands. latterly, also, the dutch and flemings had arrived, and although mainly occupied in trading, they did not hesitate to fight on occasion, especially when attempts were made to prevent their traffic. while under the rule of charles the fifth they had been free to go to and from the indies, and no doubt use the knowledge thus gained to further their own interests since their revolt. like the english, they were at enmity with spain, but there was also another bond of union--both were protestant. queen elizabeth assisted holland in gaining her independence, and therefore at this period the relations between english and dutch were very cordial. but the fellow-feeling of enmity to spain made even the french corsair unite with the two others, so that pirates, privateers, and traders all combined against the common foe. [illustration] [illustration] iv. ralegh and the first british colonies. the first grant made by queen elizabeth for a settlement in america was given to sir humphrey gilbert in , but the father of english colonisation was sir walter ralegh. although considered a rover, or pirate, by the spaniards, he was of a different type to drake, hawkins, and the other adventurers of the sixteenth century. not only was he famous as a brave warrior, but at the same time as one of the most learned men of his time; as enterprising in the arts of peace as on the battlefield. the "letters patent" to walter ralegh, esquire, dated the th of march, , may be considered as the first charter of the english colonies. under them he was empowered to discover, occupy, and possess barbarous countries not actually in the possession of any christian prince, or inhabited by christian people, on condition that he reserved to her majesty a fifth of all the gold and silver found therein. he was also given all the rights of civil and criminal jurisdiction, and empowered to govern and make laws as long as these laws did not conflict with those of the mother country, or with the true christian faith of the church of england. under this charter the first settlement in virginia was undertaken, and thus england threw down the gauntlet in the face of spain. however, ralegh did not confine himself to north america--there were other countries not in the actual possession of any christian prince, the most notable being guiana. ralegh had heard the story of "el dorado" and of the failures of the many german and spanish knights. he would succeed where they had failed. englishmen had displayed their mettle in the indies--if the treasures of peru and mexico had raised their enemy to be "mistress of the world" and "sovereign of the seas," why should not he also find other golden countries for the benefit of his virgin queen and country? because two rich provinces had been discovered, it did not follow that there were no others; on the contrary, the rumours of "el dorado" were so many that they could not be treated with contempt. and then the natives of the "great wild coast," although cannibals, were friendly to the english, who had always treated them fairly, and there they had the advantage over spain. the country was open to them, although strictly guarded against their rivals. the stories had been lately revived by the expeditions of antonio de berrio, governor of trinidad and guiana, who had made explorations of the river orinoco, and possibly exaggerated his reports for the purpose of getting settlers. captain popham took some letters from a spanish vessel in , wherein were found accounts of the "nueva dorado," which were spoken of as incredibly rich. ralegh saw these, and was induced by their reports and his own knowledge of the indies, which he had gained in working at his colonisation schemes, to go out and look up the matter. the occupation of guiana, he said, had other ground and assurance of riches than the voyages to the west indies. the king of spain was not so impoverished as the english supposed by their taking two or three ports, neither were the riches of peru or new spain to be picked up on the sea-shore. the burning of towns on the coast did not impoverish spain one ducat, for it was within the country that the land was rich and populous. therefore england should endeavour to get possession of this yet unspoiled country, instead of wasting her energies on adventures that were of no real benefit, and that hardly touched the real source of her enemy's greatness. ralegh arrived at trinidad in march, , and as a matter of precaution captured the spanish town of st. joseph, and the governor, de berrio, from whom he heard more stories of el dorado. here also he began those conciliatory measures with the natives which characterised all his dealings. he released five chiefs, who had been imprisoned in chains and tortured by dropping melted fat on their bodies, and thus gained their friendship. unlike other adventurers he thought it necessary to excuse himself for burning st. joseph, which he did in rather quaint language. considering that if he entered guiana by small boats and left a garrison of the enemy at his back, he "should have savoured very much of the ass," he took the place, and at the instance of the natives set it on fire. [illustration: ralegh in trinidad. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] now began a weary voyage up the orinoco, first through the delta, which is such a maze that they might have wandered for months without getting into the main river had they not secured an indian pilot. exposed alternately to burning sun and drenching showers in open boats, they toiled against the powerful stream. ralegh everywhere tried his best to ingratiate himself with the indians, succeeding so well that his name became known over the whole of guiana. he told them that he had been sent by a great queen, the powerful cacique of the north, and a virgin, whose chieftains were more numerous than the trees of the forest. she was an enemy to the spaniards, had freed other nations from their oppression, and had now sent to rescue them. to confirm his statement he gave each cacique a coin so that they could possess the queen's likeness, and these were treasured and even worshipped for a century afterwards. everywhere he heard of el dorado, but it was always receding farther and farther, until his men became so disheartened that he had to rouse them by saying that they would be shamed before their comrades if they gave up so easily. however, after reaching the mouth of the caroni and getting specimens of gold ore, he had to return without doing more than locating the city of manoa several hundred miles to the east of his farthest point. this was done in so exact a manner that the great lake of parima, as large as the caspian sea, was retained upon the maps of south america down to the beginning of the present century. his ore was probably stream quartz, and in representing it as taken from the rock he probably reported what the indians had told him. when, therefore, he said that the assay gave its value as £ , a ton, there is no reason to suppose a mistake or untruth, for pieces quite as valuable may still be picked up. his "discoverie of guiana" is such a mixture of close and accurate observation with the hearsay of the indians, that it is difficult in some cases to separate truth from fiction. yet, although historians have charged him with wilful lying, there can be no doubt of his good faith. it has been left to the present century to prove that gold-mines exist on the site of the fabled el dorado, for it is there that the well-known caratal diggings are situated. ralegh asked the people of england to judge for themselves. he had spent much time and money, with no other object than to serve his queen and country. when they considered that it was the spaniard's gold which endangered and disturbed all the nations of europe, that "purchaseth intelligence, creepeth into councils and setteth bound loyalty at liberty," they would see the advantage of these provinces he had discovered. guiana was a country that had never yet been sacked, turned, or wrought. the face of the earth had not been torn, nor the virtue and salt of the soil spent by manurance; the graves had not been opened for gold, the mines not touched with sledges, or the images pulled down from the temples. it was so easily defensible that it could be protected by two forts at the mouth of a river, and thus the whole empire be guarded. the country was already discovered, many nations won to her majesty's love and obedience, and those spaniards who had laboured on the conquest were beaten, discouraged, and disgraced. if her majesty took up the enterprise, he doubted not that after the first or second year there would be a contractation house for guiana in london, with larger receipts than that for the indies at seville. such was ralegh's dream. another peru to be conquered, and england to be raised to the highest point of wealth and importance. but unfortunately he could get no assistance to carry out the grand project. yet he was undoubtedly sincere, for did he not send out two expeditions under captains keymis and berrie the following year, to assure the indians that he had not forgotten them? keymis found one tribe keeping a festival in honour of the great princess of the north, and anxiously waiting for the return of gualtero, which name, by the by, was similar to their word for friend. they made fires, and, sitting in their hammocks, each man with his companion, they recounted the worthy deeds and deaths of their ancestors, execrating their enemies most spitefully, and magnifying their friends with all the titles of honour they could devise. thus they sat talking and smoking tobacco until their cigars (their measure of time) went out, during which they were not to be disturbed, "for this is their religion and prayers which they now celebrated, keeping a precise fast one whole day in honour of the great princess of the north, their patron and defender." the explorations of ralegh and his captains were published all over europe, with the result that attention was generally drawn to guiana. already some dutchmen had been trading on the coast for many years, and it was even reported that they had established a post in the river pomeroon, the centre of the province of caribana. as early as flemings had settled at araya on the coast of venezuela, where they collected salt and were left undisturbed as long as the netherlands belonged to spain. ralegh seems to have purposely ignored the presence of these people in guiana, probably to prevent any question of prior rights on the part of a friendly nation. but, after all, the dutchmen could only have been there on their own responsibility, and their temporary occupation had no meaning from a national point of view. now that guiana was made known, vessels of other nationalities went trading along the coast, everywhere meeting with a hearty welcome from the indians as long as the visitors were not spanish. they were only so many additions to their friends--their enemies were confined to trinidad and the orinoco, leaving the whole coast of guiana to its rightful owners. in fact, the spaniards could no more subdue the caribs of the main than they could those of the islands. only in trinidad, where the arawak was employed against the cannibal, was a settlement made possible. ralegh was unable to carry out his great project, but others were not backward in attempting to settle in the country. first came charles leigh, who in founded a colony in the river oyapok, which failed partly from the lack of assistance from england and partly from too great a dependence on the promises of the indians to supply food. sickness followed on starvation, leigh died, and a mutiny took place, after which the survivors got back to europe in a dutch trader, which fortunately arrived when all hope of succour had been abandoned. robert harcourt followed to the same river in , like leigh, getting promises of assistance from the indians by using the name of ralegh. with their consent he took possession of the country, "by twig and turf," in the name of king james. this ceremony was performed by first cutting a branch from a tree, and then turning up a sod with the sword, thus claiming everything in and on the earth. harcourt's colony lasted several years, and in he received from james the first a grant of all that part of guiana lying between the rivers amazons and essequebo, on the usual condition of the fifth of all gold and silver being handed over to the king. in the same year the dutch trading factory at kyk-over-al on the river essequebo was established, and this was probably the reason why the english grant made that river the boundary of their possessions, leaving the hollander to establish himself between the essequebo and the orinoco. meanwhile, in , poor ralegh had been tried on a charge of aiding and abetting the plot to raise arabella stuart to the throne of england, on the death of queen elizabeth. any one who reads the account of his trial will perceive at once the absurdity of the charge, yet ralegh was convicted and sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. however, even with all his hatred for the knight, king james dared not carry out the sentence, but instead, kept him imprisoned in the tower. here ralegh still hankered after the treasures of guiana, and in he made a proposition to the government to send captain keymis to find the rich gold mine which had been pointed out to him by an indian. if keymis should live to arrive at the place and fail to bring half a ton or more of that rich ore of which he had shown a sample, ralegh himself would bear all the expense of the journey. "though," said he, "it be a difficult matter of exceeding difficulty for any man to find the same acre of ground again, in a country desolate and overgrown, which he hath seen but once, and that sixteen years since--which were hard enough to do upon salisbury plain--yet that your lordships may be satisfied of the truth, i am contented to adventure all i have (but my reputation) upon keymis's memory." this proposition was rejected, and the poor knight lingered on in the tower, attended during part of the time by two guiana indians, harry and leonard regapo. in , however, he at last recovered his liberty on condition that he went to guiana and brought back gold, but at the same time the king refused to pardon him. nevertheless he took up the matter with an amount of enthusiasm which showed his entire confidence in its ultimate success. all his own money and as much of his wife's as could be spared was spent in fitting out the expedition, and he also got contributions from many of his friends. the king even went so far as to give him a commission to undertake a voyage to the south parts of america, or elsewhere in america, inhabited by heathen and savage people, with all the necessary rights of government and jurisdiction; yet with all this the old sentence hung over his head. the expedition of fourteen vessels started in march, , but even from the commencement the voyage was disastrous. first a gale was encountered, which drove the fleet to take refuge in cork harbour, where it lay until august. this seems to have put a damper on the commander, who now began to realise how much depended on his success. he was twenty-two years older than when he went on his first voyage to guiana, and most of those years he had spent in captivity. is it any wonder that when the excitement attendant on his release had gone off he became sick and utterly prostrated? such was his condition when the fleet arrived at cayenne, where he went to look for his indian boy harry, who had gone back to his people and was now wanted as interpreter. so low was ralegh's condition that he had to be carried ashore, and although he soon became a little better under a course of fresh meat and fruits, he never wholly recovered. so great was his weakness, both of mind and body, that he deputed keymis to lead the party up the orinoco, while he rested at cayenne; in a few days he would go on to trinidad and wait there until they returned. keymis accordingly went on, accompanied by young walter ralegh, a number of other gentlemen, and four hundred soldiers. they arrived at the site of the supposed gold mine without accident, but found that since the first expedition some spaniards had built "a town of sticks, covered with leaves," and this stood in the way of their approach to the mine. possibly keymis now thought of his master's expression in regard to st. joseph, and did not care to "savour of an ass" by leaving the enemy to interfere with his work. he therefore attacked this town of st. thome, and set it on fire. unfortunately young ralegh was killed in the fight, and the thought of how he could tell this bad news preyed upon the mind of keymis until all relish for gold-seeking was lost. the spaniards took to the bush, from whence they sallied forth on any small party of the english, and ultimately put them into a state of confusion. the mine could not be found, the adventurers began to complain that they had been fooled, and keymis was so troubled that he seemed neither to know nor care anything about treasure-seeking. ralegh had meanwhile arrived in the gulf of paria, where he received the news of the burning of st. thome and the death of his son from some indians. presently keymis arrived, utterly dejected, to find his master broken down and more woe-begone than himself. ralegh said he was undone, and that keymis was entirely to blame. not even a sample of ore--the king would believe him a liar and a cheat. then, this attack on a spanish town! did not keymis remember that these were not the days of the virgin queen, when to "singe the spaniard's beard" was worthy of praise? did he not know that james was friendly with the king of spain and wanted to get from him a princess for his son henry? [illustration: gold hunting. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] keymis had been the intimate friend of ralegh through all his troubles. he had remained faithful even when threatened with the rack at the time of the trial. as a kind of steward he had administered the prisoner's estate, and was a trusted friend and confidant of the family. he had seen young walter grow up to manhood, and now through his fault the youth had been killed. for the first time the bereaved father was angry with his captain; perhaps if keymis died the whole blame would be laid upon his shoulders, and ralegh be exonerated. he went to the cabin allotted to him, loaded a pistol, shot himself, and then, as he feared the wound was not mortal, finished the suicide by driving a long knife into his heart. thus died poor keymis, but unfortunately this did not make any difference to his master. if ralegh had been prepared to throw all the responsibility on his lieutenant, the king could only be satisfied with treasure. even if james had been inclined to over-look the affair, the spanish ambassador would not condone such an offence. he is said to have rushed into the royal presence with the cry of "piracy! piracy! piracy!" at the same time demanding the immediate capture and punishment of the raiders. it followed, therefore, that ralegh was arrested immediately on his return, and finally executed under the old sentence, but by decapitation instead of hanging. his last days were passed with resignation and fortitude. his old spirit was entirely broken, and although he petitioned the king for grace and pardon, he did so in a hopeless way. he had many sympathisers, and to satisfy them the king's printers issued a little book entitled "a declaration of the demeanour and carriage of sir walter raleigh," obviously inspired by the king himself. here was a thing unheard of before or since; a sovereign excusing himself for his actions! if anything were required to prove the prisoner's innocence, this was sufficient. did james want to salve his own conscience, or was it intended to satisfy those who clamoured on account of the injustice of the execution? no doubt many of the old sea dogs who had served under drake and hawkins were still living, and remembered when plymouth bells rang at the news of fresh arrivals from the indies. "but now, forsooth, you must not burn down a thatched hovel without a great to-do being made." if spain wanted peace, why did her people murder a ship's company in cold blood a little while before? out upon it! the good old days had passed and england was going to ruin. however, even king james's sneaking friendship for spain could not keep back colonisation altogether. something like moderation was introduced, and only pirates pure and simple kept up the old traditions. as for the king he hardly knew how to steer, what with the petitions for reprisals from english seamen on the one hand, and complaints of the spanish ambassadors on the other. the result of this want of policy is well shown in the case of roger north one of the adventurers in the last expedition of ralegh, who, in , wished to re-establish the colony in the oyapok, which had virtually sunk to nothing. an association called the amazon company was formed, and, notwithstanding spanish protests, the king granted "letters patent," under which north got up an expedition in four vessels. then the spanish ambassador began to storm, and the weak king revoked the patent, calling upon the members of the company to renounce their rights. north, who had been warned that something was going on, hurried up his preparations, and was off so quickly that he sailed on the th of april, , fifteen days before the proclamation revoking his license was published. on his return in january following he was arrested and sent to the tower, where he remained until july. meanwhile his cargo from guiana was seized on the ground that it had been obtained from spanish possessions, but with all his willingness to oblige spain the king could not get the case proven. it followed, therefore, that north was released, and his goods restored, but as the cargo was mainly tobacco it had become much damaged by neglect. this detention of north, and the consequent delay in sending out supplies to the oyapok, led to the downfall of the infant colony. hearing nothing from england the settlers became disheartened, and if it had not happened that dutch traders arrived there occasionally they would have been starved. even as it was one left after another until few remained, and when, six years later, "the company of noblemen and gentlemen of england for the plantation of guiana" was formed, the settlement had to be commenced anew. however, some of those who left carried the english flag to the island of st. christopher's, where a settlement was commenced in by thomas warner. thus, as ralegh was the father of english colonisation, so his beloved guiana became the parent of the british west indies. james the first died in march, , and with him went the english subservience to spain, never to be restored. during his reign british enterprise had been kept back; now it broke down all obstructions. true, new england and bermuda were settled during his reign, but they owed little to him or his government. as soon as the royal obstructionist was dead, colonisation schemes came to the front. before even a month had passed, on the th of april, john coke came forward with a proposition to incorporate a company for the defence and protection of the west indies, for establishing a trade there, and for fitting out a fleet to attack the spanish settlements. about the same time, also, the attorney-general made some "notes" on the advantages derived by the spaniards and dutch from their west indian trade, showing that it was neither safe nor profitable to england for them to remain absolute lords of those parts, and suggesting that the new king should entertain the matter and openly interpose, or else permit it to be done underhand; then if it prospered he could make it his own at pleasure. what was done in these particular cases does not appear, but that a new policy was introduced is certain. in september following the case of st. christopher's was brought before the privy council, which apparently confirmed what had been done, in taking possession of the island. in the "information" laid over it was stated that thomas warner had discovered that island, as well as nevis, barbados, and montserrat, and had begun the planting and colonising of these islands, until then only inhabited by savages. king charles was asked to take them under his royal protection and grant thomas warner their custody as his lieutenant, with the usual powers of jurisdiction. the result was not altogether to the liking of the petitioners, ralph merrifield and thomas warner, for in july, , a grant of all the caribbees was made to the earl of carlisle. this was sweeping enough, however, to suit those who wanted english colonies, however it ignored the rights of the first settlers in st. kitt's and barbados, which latter island had been settled a few months after the first. now, also, roger north came forward with his story and got the revoked patent renewed, so that he could go on with the settlement in the oyapok. for a time it did very well, but the tide had turned in favour of the islands, and guiana was soon abandoned to the dutch and french. the most important of the two islands first colonised was barbados, which, fortunately for her comfort, never suffered from such calamities as befel the sister island of st. christopher's. as far as the english were concerned barbados was discovered by a vessel going out to leigh's settlement, in guiana, in . a pillar was erected with the inscription, "james, king of england and this island," but nothing was done in the way of a settlement until immediately after warner commenced planting in st. kitt's. the most intimate connection existed between barbados and guiana from the earliest times, as in fact it does to the present day, for captain powell, the commander of the little company of pioneers, sent to his dutch friend, groenwegel, in essequebo, for a party of arawak indians to teach the new-comers how to plant provisions, cotton, and tobacco. in another group of islands was added by the granting of a patent to the "governor and company of adventurers for the plantation of the islands of providence, henrietta, and the adjacent islands." under this charter possession was taken of the bahamas, but little was done in the way of settling them for about a century. thus west indian colonisation was commenced, and claims made to all the smaller islands on behalf of england. but it is not to be supposed that france and holland were going to let everything go by default--on the contrary, they soon began to settle in some of the very islands which had been granted to the earl of carlisle. the dutch, as we have seen, were traders from the beginning, preferring the so-called contraband traffic with the natives and spanish colonists to anything like the raids of english or french. yet, in their plodding way they went on steadily, and as early as the year took possession of the island of st. eustatius. when the spaniards awoke to the fact that the dutch were injuring their trade, they began to enforce all the old prohibitions and seized the smugglers. but the hollander commenced to feel his power, and gave his enemy several lessons, which made him feel that the united provinces with their symbol of a bundle of darts were not to be despised. in the dutch took the capital of porto rico, and in their west india company was formed with territorial and trading rights over all the unoccupied countries of africa and america. suddenly as it were the despised hollander became a power in the west indies, and the company was soon strong enough to conquer brazil, which it must be remembered was, with portugal and all her colonies, then in the hands of spain. about the year piet heyn destroyed a spanish fleet in mataça bay, cuba, the booty from which was something enormous. altogether, the west india company was said to have captured vessels, mainly off the coast of america, the prize money from which amounted to thirty million guilders (£ , , ), while the damage to spain was at least six times as much. now also the french began to claim their share. in mons. d'enambuc went on a piratical expedition to the caribbean sea, but without any intention of founding a colony. however, off the cayman's islands he was attacked by a spanish galleon of much superior force, and although he succeeded at last in driving her off, his vessel was so crippled that he had to put into st. christopher's for repairs. here he found warner already established, and with him a few frenchmen. on account of his condition and the beauty of the island, he became inclined to settle, and as the english and french were then on good terms, warner saw no objection. the consequence was that st. kitt's became divided between the two nationalities, with results in the future most disastrous to both. at first, however, the assistance of the french was very welcome. the caribs were still a power in the smaller islands and gave a great deal of trouble to the young colony. at first they were friendly, but when the settlers wished to oppress them by taking away their lands and compelling them to supply provisions, open war began. hearing from an indian woman that a conspiracy was forming to destroy all the white men, warner determined to be beforehand with them. he massacred a hundred and twenty of the men, took the women as slaves, and drove the remainder off the island. but these powerful savages were by no mean conquered, for those who escaped soon came back with three or four thousand of their friends from neighbouring islands, and at first it appeared as if the whites would have been utterly exterminated. by a supreme effort of both french and english, however, this great invasion was repelled, the defenders killing about two thousand, and capturing fifteen large periaguas, with a loss to themselves of about a hundred, most of whom died from poisoned arrows. this was a bond of union between french and english, and warner and d'enambuc amicably divided the island between them. [illustration: carib attack on a settlement (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] [illustration] v. buccaneers, filibusters, and pirates. now that settlements were commenced the old system of piracy was somewhat discountenanced by the home governments, and many of the adventurers began to become a little more civilised. but there was still a large number of them who became known as buccaneers, filibusters, freebooters, marooners, and brethren of the coast, who continued to worry the spaniards, and even to attack other nationalities on occasion. they had taken to the trade, and, when no longer able to carry it on in a quasi-legitimate manner, did so on their own lines. the claim of spain to the whole of america was the great cause of offence. had she been content with what her people could occupy, there would have been little trouble, but the "dog in the manger" policy could hardly be recognised by other nations. it followed, therefore, that when complaints were made to france and england of the ravages on the spanish coasts, the sovereigns told the king of spain to protect his own shores, disclaiming on their own parts any responsibility whatever. the earliest accounts of the buccaneers are confused with those of the french corsairs, of which mention has been already made. they sailed along the coast from one island to another, trading a little, capturing spanish vessels, fighting the guarda-costas, and now and again repairing to some out-of-the-way place to put their ships in order or even to assist the caribs in their raids. the advantages of combination were soon felt, and with these also the necessity for places of rendezvous. even the english adventurers became accustomed to obtain wood and water from dominica, but this island was not conveniently situated for the french corsairs. they wanted an uninhabited place near enough to hispaniola and the track of the spanish vessels for them to be quickly pounced upon and for the corsairs to as quickly escape. then there must be a food supply, and on the great island of hispaniola were countless herds of wild cattle which ranged over a wilderness utterly depopulated. the palmy days of the hispaniola planter were over, and although he imported negro slaves to some extent, he was virtually ruined. one after another left for the newly discovered countries on the main, and for peru and mexico, leaving the island to a few merchants and wealthy planters, who found it to their interest to remain. hispaniola was little more than a house of call on the road to the treasure countries, which meant that although the port of st. domingo was fortified, the greater portion of the island was open to any one who chose to occupy it. salt was a scarce commodity in those times, but it could be obtained in some of the smaller islands, notably tortuga, which for that reason became the resort of the buccaneers. but the indians had learnt how to preserve meat without this useful substance, by smoking it over a fire of green branches and leaves. even europeans knew something of this process, although we believe they never preserved their beef and bacon entirely without salt as did the indians their game. the process was very simple. four sticks with forked ends were pushed into the ground, and on these uprights a sort of rack of other sticks was laid to make an open platform, where the pieces of meat were laid above a fire until well dried and impregnated with smoke. this stage was called a boucan, or barbecue, and from their using it to prepare supplies for their voyages the corsairs became known as buccaneers. there were no tinned provisions in those days, nor had the proper means of keeping food on long voyages been yet perfected. it followed, therefore, that a food supply in the indies had to be provided, and the spaniards unintentionally did good service to their enemies by placing hogs on most of the islands to breed and be available in emergencies. it is obvious that the hunting of semi-wild animals and curing their meat required time, and for that reason a division of labour was initiated. while one party went cruising in search of spanish vessels, another ranged the country to capture and prepare the supplies against their return. thus a rendezvous became necessary, and in time plantations were established in this neighbourhood to gradually develop into a settlement. now and again the spaniards discovered these places, but as they were generally of little value, their loss was of no importance; if destroyed the buccaneers could easily escape to another locality. when the enemy burnt their vessels, they easily built canoes with which they soon captured others and became as strong as before. the hunters grew to like their hardy life with its perfect liberty, and became so inured to the climate and open air as to be utterly unlike the effeminate planters. they were even little subject to the diseases of the country, and could live for months at a time on nothing but meat. as for clothes, they made these from the skins of animals, and all they really required from outside was powder and lead for their firearms. they became known as the brethren of the coast from their custom of each choosing one comrade as a bosom friend and brother. everything gained by either was common to both, and the company were very strict in enforcing their law against unfaithfulness in a companion, or unfair dealing in any way among themselves. sometimes they marooned a culprit by leaving him alone on some small island to die of hunger, or perhaps to become a "crusoe" for many years. the wounded received compensation according to a fixed tariff, from the common stock or from contributions; thus the loss of an arm was valued at five hundred crowns, and other mutilations at corresponding rates. as the attacks of the spaniards became more common, the small bands united, and division of labour became more exact. some were hunters of wild boars, others of cattle, a few became planters, but the main body were always sea rovers. at first the hunters were on good terms with the spanish planters and entered into engagements to supply them with meat. a party would go off into the interior and stay away for months at a time, eventually returning with large supplies borne on the backs of their horses. during all this time they lived in rough shelters which could be erected in an afternoon, and were much exposed to the vicissitudes of the weather. now they made up for their long term of privation by carousing to their hearts' content, and when drunk, often fought and killed each other. in the settlements there were generally a few women, and these often became the cause of contentions; there were also bond-servants who were treated most cruelly. sometimes they made incursions on the spanish settlements, which led to stronger efforts for their extermination that at last considerably reduced their numbers. in fact, had it not been for the continual accessions they would soon have died out, or have given up their trade and settled down as planters. hispaniola became at last almost untenable, for the spaniards, unable to find any other way of putting them down, organised several hunting parties with the view to utterly destroy the wild cattle and thus deprive them of their means of living. not that this was easily done, for it took many years, during which the hunting parties from both sides fought and killed each other, committing enormities which made the quarrel all the more bitter. about the year a party of buccaneers captured the island of tortuga from the spaniards, the garrison of twenty-five men surrendering without a blow. here was now the grand rendezvous of the french, for which it was perfectly suitable from its proximity to the food supply and the track of the spanish vessels. it was situated on the north of the western portion of hispaniola, and not very well suited for plantations, although good tobacco was grown there. there were, however, plenty of sea fowl and turtle to be had, as well as their eggs, which formed a large portion of the diet of the inhabitants. this island became a veritable pandemonium--the sink of the west indies. it was the place of call for rovers of all nations, the market for their booty, and the storehouse for everything in the way of supplies. the merchants pandered to the tastes of their customers, and drinking and gambling went on continually. but in it was surprised by the spaniards, who began to be alarmed at this nest of pirates at their very doors. they chose a time when most of the rovers were away on a cruise, and the buccaneers gone hunting in hispaniola. all they captured were killed--even those who surrendered being hanged as pirates. only a few escaped by hiding among the rocks and bushes to come forth after the enemy had left, which they did without leaving a garrison. a grand attempt to expel the hunters from the main island was now organised, in which a corps of five hundred lancers ranged the island in bands of fifties. many of the buccaneers were killed, but the remainder combined together under an englishman named willis and again took possession of tortuga. from this rendezvous near hispaniola the main passages between the islands were under observation, but a similar station was required near the isthmus, and this was established about in the bay of campeachy. like that at tortuga its beginnings are lost in obscurity. at first one or more of the small islands or keys was used on occasion--later fortifications were erected, and a watch always kept for the enemy. the excuse for the settlement was the logwood trade, but this did not become of much importance until after the english conquest of jamaica. like the true buccaneers these pirates were fond of hunting, but their game was principally indians, whom they attacked and carried off from the main, the men to sell to the plantations and the women to keep for themselves. when they arrived after a cruise and sold their booty, they would have a jolly time with drinking, gambling, and firing of guns, until the island would seem to be the habitation of devils rather than human beings. there were also other pirate resorts, notably the virgin islands and the bahamas, but these were generally used only by one company, and never rose to the position of general resorts. it is to these that most of the romances refer, but the stories of pirate and treasure islands rarely have much foundation in fact. how privateers became pirates is well shown by a case that occurred in the latter half of the seventeenth century. a vessel went cruising from the carolinas, and after being out for eighteen months had gained so few prizes that the crew began to complain. after discussing the situation, they resolved to try the south sea, where they hoped to find the spaniards less prepared. meeting with very bad weather at the entrance of the strait of magellan, they were, however, obliged to turn back, and then the majority decided to become pirates. eight men who refused to agree were marooned on the island of fernando po, their late comrades leaving them a small boat in which they expected to be able to get to some english colony. the vessel left, and commenced her piratical work at once by capturing a portuguese ship larger than herself, the crew being brought and landed on the same island. in the night the portuguese made off, taking with them the englishmen's boat as well as their own, leaving the eight privateers to do the best they could. however, they were not easily daunted, and at once began to cut down trees and build a sloop of four tons, which they finished in six weeks, meanwhile living on sea fowl and their eggs, which were plentiful. finally they sailed for tobago, but missing that island got to tortuga, where they arrived almost perishing with hunger and thirst, having had nothing to eat or drink for six days. even then they were not discouraged, but after resting awhile, set sail in the same boat for new england, passing along the spanish islands, often unable to land for water on account of the enemy, and lying under cover of the mangroves, to be almost devoured by mosquitoes. even with all this care they were taken at last, stripped, thrust down in the hold of a spanish _guarda-costa_, and finally kept as slaves in the island of cuba. in the early years of the seventeenth century few of the adventurers had any commissions, but as the mother countries began to establish settlements, letters of marque were granted when there was a war. the corsairs and pirates then became privateers, only to go back to their old trade when peace was nominally restored. some played fast and loose with these commissions, sometimes having both french and english at the same time, either to be used according to circumstances. the french governors went so far as to sell these documents signed and sealed, but without names, so that they passed from hand to hand ready to be filled up when the pirate wished to escape the yard-arm. the young colonies were too weak to incur their displeasure--in fact they were glad to encourage their visits, as the settlers could always pick up good bargains when they sold their booty. yet, with all that, there was a dread of them, even among their own countrymen, which prevented that feeling of safety which best consists with the progress of a colony. we can say little of individuals, as there were so many, but we may mention a few of the most striking characters and their daring exploits. they inspired such dread among the spaniards that at last the latter hardly dared to defend themselves against them, but on their approach immediately surrendered. if the cargo was rich, quarter was granted, but if otherwise, or anything was found secreted, the whole company, officers, crew, and passengers, were forced to leap overboard. pierre legrand with his twenty-eight men once attacked a great spanish galleon, and before going alongside scuttled his own vessel so that it sunk as the pirates leapt on to the enemy's deck. with no possibility of retreat the men fought like devils and quickly got possession of the galleon, with the usual result. when other nations had compelled respect from spain their vessels were sometimes chartered to carry rich cargoes, which thus sailed under the protection of another flag. but the pirates were not to be cheated so easily, for they had their spies on the look-out, and often managed to glean information. on one occasion captains michael de basco and brouage heard of two dutch vessels leaving carthagena with treasure and at once followed, attacked and captured them. exasperated at being beaten by a force much smaller than their own, the dutch captains told michael that he could not have overcome them if he had been alone. "very well," said the audacious frenchman, "let us begin the fight again, and captain brouage shall look on. but if i conquer i will not only have the spanish silver you carry, but your own ships as well." the dutch were not inclined to accept this challenge, but made off as soon as they could after the treasure had been taken into the pirate vessels, fearing they might otherwise lose their opportunity. captain lawrence was once unexpectedly overtaken by two spanish sixty-gun ships, the crews of which numbered fifteen hundred. addressing his men, he said--"you have experience enough to be aware of your danger, and too much courage to fear. on this occasion we must avail ourselves of every circumstance, hazard everything, and attack and defend at the same time. valour, artifice, rashness, and even despair itself must now be employed. let us fear the disgrace of a defeat; let us dread the cruelty of our enemy; and let us fight that we may escape him." after he was applauded with loud cheers, lawrence took aside one of the bravest of his men, and in the presence of all, gave him strict orders to fire the gunpowder at a given signal, thus telling them plainly they must fight or be blown up. meanwhile the enemy had approached very close, and lawrence, ranging his men on both sides of the vessel, steered between the two great monsters, firing a broadside on either hand as he passed, which they could not return for fear of damaging each other. he did not succeed in capturing them, but they were so demoralised by his determined attitude, and the number of killed and wounded, that they were glad to make off. montbar was a frenchman who had heard of the atrocities of the spaniards and the exploits of the buccaneers, and determined to go out to the west indies to join in the fray. on his voyage from france he met a spanish vessel which he attacked and boarded with a sabre in his hand. passing twice from bow to stern, he carved his way through the enemy, entirely reckless of danger, and by his example animated his comrades until the vessel was taken. then standing apart while the spoil was being divided, he gloated with savage pleasure over the corpses that lay on the deck. arrived at hispaniola he heard from the buccaneers that they could do little in the way of planting because of the continual attacks on their settlements. "why then," said montbar, roughly, "do you tamely submit to such insults?" "we do not!" they answered; "the spaniards have experienced what kind of men we are, and therefore take advantage of the time when we go hunting. but we are going to join with some of our companions, who have been even worse treated than ourselves, and then we shall have hot work." "if such be the case let me lead you," said montbar, "not as a commander, but first in the post of danger." they were quite willing to have him as leader, and the very same day he went at the head of a party to find the enemy. meeting a small body of spaniards he rushed upon them with such fury that hardly one escaped, and this at once justified them in their choice. he afterwards became such a terror all over the west indies as to be known as "the exterminator." lolonois was another ruffian, who commenced his career by taking a spanish frigate with only two canoes and twenty-two men. this vessel had sailed from havana especially to put down the buccaneers, and had on board a negro executioner who was engaged to hang the prisoners. hearing this from the negro, lolonois ordered all the spaniards to be brought before him, and going down the line, he struck off one head after another, licking his sword after each blow. he afterwards went to port au prince, where four vessels were fitting out for his capture. these he took and threw all their crews into the sea, except one man, whom he sent to the governor of havana with the news, and a warning that he would treat the governor himself in the same way if he had the opportunity. after this he ran the best prizes aground and sailed for tortuga in the frigate, where he joined michael de basco. with four hundred and forty men this worthy pair sailed for the main, where they plundered the coast of venezuela, set fire to gibraltar, and held maracaybo for ransom. they carried off all the crosses, pictures, plate, ornaments, and even bells from the churches, with the intention of using them in a great cathedral to be erected on tortuga. although the buccaneers were mostly french they were not confined to that nationality. the famous or notorious captain morgan was a welshman, who began his career in the west indies as a bond-servant. one of his greatest exploits was the capture of porto bello, which had taken the place of nombre de dios after that town had been burnt by drake. he even out-did drake and every other adventurer before him by storming panama, from whence he obtained a very rich booty. here he fell in love with a spanish lady, who, however, threatened to stab herself rather than yield to his embraces. even when he tried the gentlest measures which such a ruffian could think of, she still refused to yield, so that he had ultimately to comply with the wishes of his companions and leave her. panama was burnt, the retreat across the isthmus safely performed without any serious misadventure, and morgan sailed away to jamaica with the lion's share of the plunder. in this great expedition the buccaneers of all nations united to form a combination hitherto unknown. but, as this was the first time that such a thing had occurred, so also was it the last. as for morgan his career was ended; his comrades charged him with treachery and made it unsafe for him to come within their reach. he therefore settled down in jamaica, made himself right with the authorities there and in england, was knighted by king charles the second, and professed now to have a great dislike to piracy. on two occasions sir henry morgan became acting governor of jamaica, and in that capacity did his best to discountenance buccaneering. in a great expedition was organised at tortuga by van horn, a fleming, noted for his courage and ferocity. in the heat of an engagement he would pace the deck, and urge his men to fight by shooting any one who even flinched from a ball. he thus made himself a terror to cowards and the admiration of the brave; like montbar, gaining the respect and confidence of his followers. like the french leader also, he was careless about his own share of the booty, leaving everything to his men, which naturally increased his popularity. with twelve hundred men in six vessels he sailed for vera cruz, and surprised the town at night. most of the inhabitants took refuge in the churches, and the buccaneers posted sentries with barrels of gunpowder in front of each, giving orders to blow up the buildings on the least sign of an attempt to escape. after plundering the houses they demanded about half a million pounds from the prisoners as ransom for their lives and liberties. this was not obtained, however, for while waiting the collection a large body of troops was seen approaching from the interior, and a fleet of seventeen vessels came into the harbour from spain. yet the buccaneers were determined to get something towards the ransom, and to this end seized fifteen hundred slaves, with which they quietly sailed away in defiance of the enemy, promising to call again for the balance of the ransom. the spanish fleet let them pass without firing a single gun, and they went back to tortuga, there to spend a year in rioting and carousing. when their money was all spent they resolved to try the most arduous of adventures, a raid on the ports of the great south sea. and it happened curiously that at that very time the english pirates were getting ready for a similar venture, without either having knowledge of that of the other party. about four thousand men were engaged, some going by way of the straits of magellan and others across the isthmus. the english and french met, and at first agreed to work together, but for want of one leader who could command and be respected by both parties, the expedition proved almost a failure. possibly also the french had not forgotten morgan's treachery, and this caused distrust and prevented any cordial feeling. those who travelled across the isthmus stole boats on the other side, and with them captured larger vessels, until this little frequented sea became almost as dangerous to spanish ships as the caribbean. most of the smaller ports were surprised, and even guayaquil was captured, mainly because they were not provided with forts and other defences. in fact, the people were so unacquainted with war and so wrapped up by the supposed security of their position, that even when the alarm was given little could be done. silver became so common that nothing but gold, pearls, and precious stones would satisfy the spoilers, yet with all their easy conquests they got little real benefit. some died of sickness, and many from the results of drunkenness and debauchery. the storms of cape horn and the straits wrecked several vessels, and drowned both spoil and spoilers, while those who attempted to return by land were equally unfortunate. they died in the bush of fever and dysentery, or were cut off by ambuscades of the enemy, often losing their booty if they escaped with their lives. what a journey across the isthmus really meant at that time is well exemplified in the case of lionel wafer. in he was a surgeon on board an english vessel under captain sharp, one of those privateers who went cruising in the south sea. after spending some time there the party divided, one portion deciding to cross overland, and the other to continue the cruise. wafer went with those who intended crossing the isthmus, the whole numbering forty-four white men and three indians. they marched from the pacific shore one afternoon, and towards night arrived at the foot of a hill, where they put up several rough sheds. rain had already begun to fall--such rain as is only known in the tropics--and they had to crouch under these imperfect shelters until midnight, with streams of water running down their backs and rivulets flowing about their feet. by morning they felt less discomfort and were glad to warm their chilled limbs by walking up the hill. here they came upon an indian path which led to a village, where they were gratified with food and a drink made of indian corn. after resting awhile they agreed with one of the indians to guide them on the next day's journey, and that night rested in the village. next morning they went on again, and at mid-day arrived at an indian hut, the owner of which was so morose and surly that at first he refused to have anything to do with them. after they had spoken kindly and asked him to guide them on their journey, he roughly answered that he was prepared to lead them to the spanish settlements. this of course would never do, and they offered him beads, money, axes, and knives to gain his good-will, but all without effect, until a sky-blue petticoat was dangled before the eyes of his wife. this turned the scale, for her persuasions being added to theirs, he at last consented to procure a guide, excusing himself from the task on the plea that he was lame from a cut. he wished to detain them with him for the day, as it still rained, but they were in so great a dread of being discovered by the enemy that, having obtained the guide, they marched three miles farther before stopping for the night. on the fourth morning the weather was fairer, and they travelled for twelve miles over hills and through slushy morasses, crossing one river after another to the number of about thirty. rain poured down again in the afternoon and during the greater part of the night, so that they had much ado to keep their fires from going out. what with the discomforts of their situation, the want of proper food, and the chilliness preceding intermittent fever, they even forgot for the time their fears of the spaniards. however, as the sun rose they went on again until, after travelling seven miles through the forest, they reached the hut of a spanish indian, who supplied them with yams, sweet potatoes, and plantains, but no meat except the flesh of two monkeys, which they gave to the weak and sickly. while resting here wafer met with an accident. one of the company, in drying some gunpowder on a silver plate, carelessly placed it near the fire where he was sitting, with the result that it exploded and tore the skin and flesh from one of his thighs, rendering him almost helpless. he had a few medicines in his knapsack and dressed the wound as well as he could under the circumstances, but rest and proper food were needed, and these he could not have. the consequence was that, after struggling along with the others until he sank down exhausted and suffering from excruciating torture, he was left behind with two sick men at an indian village, where they were presently joined by two others who had broken down. observing the condition of wafer's wound, the indians treated it with a poultice of chewed herbs on a plantain leaf, and in twenty days it was healed. nevertheless, although they did him this kindness, they were not over civil, but on the contrary treated the five white men with contempt, throwing them their refuse provisions as if they were dogs. one young indian proved kinder, and got them some ripe bananas now and then, but the others were annoyed because the main body had compelled some inhabitants of the village to go with them as guides against their will. the weather was then so bad that even the indians considered travelling almost impossible, and this annoyed them all the more, especially when the guides did not return. day after day passed, and the indians becoming more incensed at the non-arrival of their people, began to think of avenging themselves on wafer and his comrades. thinking that the guides had been murdered, they determined to burn them to death, and even went so far as to erect a great pile of wood for the purpose. but almost at the last moment their chief interposed, and offered to send away the englishmen in charge of two guides. accordingly they set out, their only food supply a little dry indian corn, and their only resting-place at night the wet ground, still exposed to drenching rains which fell every day. the third night they went to sleep on a low mound, and in the morning woke to find it a little island with water extending as far as their eyes could reach. to add to their trouble, the indian guides had disappeared, leaving them to remain here without shelter and almost starved for three days. then the waters fell and they commenced the weary work of steering to the north by means of a pocket compass--a task the difficulty of which can only be appreciated by one who has attempted it. however, they soon reached the bank of a deep river, the stream of which was rushing along like a mill race. here a lately-felled tree lying across showed them where their comrades had passed, and they commenced to climb over astride as the trunk was so slippery. one of the party was so weak and so overburdened by four hundred pieces of eight (silver dollars) that he fell, and was immediately carried down the stream out of sight. giving him up as lost, the four survivors went wandering about, looking for the footprints of their comrades, but could find no trace of them, probably on account of the floods. fearing a mistake, they again crossed the river and recommenced the search on the other side, where they were surprised to come upon their lost companion sitting on the bank, which he had managed to gain by grasping the bough of a tree as he was borne swiftly past. finding no signs of a trail, they again went on working with the compass as before. on the fifth day they had nothing to eat but a few wild berries, and the day following arrived at another great river where not even a tree lay across to give them a passage. they had only their long knives, but with them they set to work and cut down bamboos, with which rafts were made by binding the sticks with bush-ropes. they had just finished and were resting awhile, when a terrible storm came on. the rain fell as if from a cascade, thunder rolled and lightning flashed, accompanied by a sulphurous odour which almost choked them. there was no shelter but the trees of the forest, and the fire was put out at once, leaving these half-starved wretches to shiver and shake with ague all through the afternoon and up to midnight. then the waters began to rise, and in the darkness--that total absence of light under the canopy of foliage, where two men sitting together only know of each other's presence by feeling, for the din of the elements is absolutely deafening--wafer began to appreciate the fact that the swirl of the flood had reached his feet. with no possibility of communicating with the others, he felt his way to a hollow silk-cotton tree, into which he crawled, and climbed upon a heap of debris that stood in the centre. here he fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, or more probably, perhaps, fainted. when he awoke he said it was impossible for words to paint the terrors that overwhelmed his mind. the water reached to his knees, notwithstanding that the mound was five feet above the ground level, and he was afraid it would reach still higher. however, as the sun rose the flood went down, and presently he was glad to crawl out and stretch his chilled limbs. but he was all alone, and at first thought his comrades had been drowned. he shouted, but no answer came back, except the echo of his own voice. giving way to despair, he threw himself on the buttress of a tree, from which condition he was roused by the appearance of first one and then another, until the little company was again complete. they also had found similar refuges and now came to look after their rafts. but the bundles of canes had become water-logged and useless, so they resolved to retrace their steps if possible to the indian village. on their way they unfortunately missed shooting a deer which lay beside the path, and had nothing to eat but macaw berries and the pith of a tree. seeing the track of a wild hog they followed that, and ultimately came upon two provision fields. but even with this prospect of food they were so much depressed that, although perishing with hunger, they were afraid to venture near the indian huts, and lingered about for some time. however, at last wafer summoned enough courage to go into one of them, when almost immediately he was so affected by the close atmosphere and the odour of some meat cooking over the fire, that he fainted. the kindly indians assisted in his recovery, and gave him something to eat, when he was pleasantly surprised to find there the very same guides on whose account he and his comrades had been nearly roasted to death. on telling them where the others were, the indians went out and brought back three, but had to carry food to the fourth before he could gain enough strength to walk the short distance. here they were treated with the greatest humanity and tenderness, and after resting a week they again started with four guides, to reach the same river that had before checked their progress, in one day. here, finding a canoe, they proceeded up stream until, arriving at the dwelling of the chief who had saved them from torture, they were told it was impossible to go on in such weather. wafer and his companions stopped here for several months--in fact the chief wished to retain them altogether. as a physician, wafer was respected and loved; but at last, wishing to depart, by repeated importunities and the promise to come back with some good hunting-dogs, and then to marry the chief's daughter, he was at last furnished with guides. over high mountains, along the edges of precipices, and through dense forests they toiled until they came to a river flowing north, on which they embarked, and reached the shores of the gulf of darien two days later. here they were overjoyed to find an english vessel, the crew of which gave them a hearty welcome, making up to some extent for their long and perilous journey. [illustration] [illustration] vi. war in the young colonies. at the beginning of the seventeenth century spain was nominally at peace with the other great powers, except the netherlands, which had not yet come to the front. by the treaty of queen elizabeth made up the english quarrel, and in even holland was conceded a truce for nine years. thus amity was supposed to exist, and the raids of licensed privateers came to an end. yet there was "no peace beyond the line." not to mention corsairs and pirates, the english were as determined on their part to get a share of america as were the spaniards to keep them out if possible. the founders of virginia were resolute to lose their lives rather than abandon so noble a colony. even king james dared not give it up, although in and the following year there was a hot contention with the spanish secretary of state on the matter. spain was discontented that the colony should have the royal sanction, and at the same time demanded its removal, accompanying this with a threat to drive out the settlers, as well as those in the bermudas. but james could not admit the papal bull, and as the english were firm, the claimants of the whole of america contented themselves with protests. in the west indies, however, spain went farther. here she had undoubtedly the right by discovery, although not by actual possession, save in the greater antilles. the weak english king who succeeded the strong-minded tudor princess was not prepared to contest the spanish supremacy here, but simply answered the complaints against english adventurers by disclaiming all responsibility. neither england nor france had officially taken the ground that only actual possession created territorial rights, but many englishmen were clamouring loudly to that effect. we have already noticed in another chapter james's policy, or want of policy, and the change which took place a few weeks after his death--we have now to deal with the results of that alteration. in hostilities were renewed between spain and the netherlands, but even during the nominal truce the dutch invaded margarita, and demolished the fort, but without, however, taking actual possession. when the truce was over hostilities were recommenced with a vigour that rather astonished spain, for in the interval the netherlands had progressed wonderfully. in , the year of his accession, charles the first entered into a treaty, offensive and defensive, with the united provinces, which of course brought england into collision with spain, and open war began again in the west indies. in a fleet of thirty-five vessels under don frederic de toledo conquered the island of st. christopher's and removed most of the english settlers, only a few of whom managed to escape to the mountains, while the french got off in two of their vessels. the french refugees suffered a great deal from the want of preparation for their hurried flight, and arrived at the island of st. martin's perishing with hunger and thirst. here they dug holes in the sand and obtained a supply of brackish water, which was so unwholesome that some died from drinking it in excessive quantities. after the spaniards left they returned to st. christopher's to find a few english, who, annoyed at their desertion, wanted to keep the island to themselves, but the french were too numerous and soon took possession of their old quarters. in the dutch took possession of tobago, and two years later of curaçao, which latter island soon became their great stronghold in the west indies, and the principal depôt for the contraband traffic with venezuela. at that time no spanish vessels went to this part of the main, but finding that the trade was of some importance to the dutch, the authorities now granted licenses to drive their rivals out of the market. but the spanish traders could not compete with the hollanders, and this so annoyed the authorities that they determined to extinguish smuggling at any cost. this they were unable to do by catching the delinquents, but they could punish those who dealt with them. the result was the infliction of heavy fines and confiscation, with disgraceful punishments, from which many were ruined. yet with all that the trade was so lucrative to both parties that neither was inclined to give it up--the dutch took care of themselves, while cheap commodities could generally command a market, whatever the risk. the fact was the mother country imposed so many restrictions, and exacted such heavy fees for licenses, that the cost of an article was doubled or trebled as compared with that of the hollander. in a french association was incorporated under the title of "the company of the islands of america." they appointed the sieurs d'enambuc and du rossy to settle the islands of st. christopher's and barbados as well as others situated at the "entrance of peru." nothing was done at barbados, as the english were already in possession, but in examinations of dominica, martinique, and guadeloupe were made, which ended in the two latter islands becoming french colonies in . meanwhile, in november, , a treaty was signed at madrid between england and spain, after which peace was supposed to again prevail. nothing was said about the west indies, probably because spain knew that further protests were useless. hardly had this been settled before, in , france declared war against the common foe, and her corsairs could now legally carry on their work of pillage and destruction. in the island of st. martin's, which had been partly occupied by french and dutch, was captured by spaniards, who expelled the inhabitants and replaced them by a strong garrison. in the same year colonel jackson, with a force from the english islands, captured santiago de la vega in jamaica, and plundered it of everything valuable, after which, in retaliation, the island of new providence, one of the bahamas, was captured by spain. neither place was, however, occupied by the captors, who only did as much damage as they could and then left. almost from the commencement of their settlements the french had quarrelled among themselves, but until the struggle which ended in the execution of charles the first, there had been few difficulties in the english islands. the barbadians, it is true, protested against the claim of the earl of carlisle, in which they were joined by the people of st. kitt's, but this was settled without disturbance. now, however, the effects of "the great rebellion" began to be felt across the seas, and disaffection towards the parliament, and loyalty to the king, were promoted by a number of royalists who had fled from the disturbance in the mother country. in the west indies were virtually in revolt against the parliament, and on the th of september an embargo was declared in england against vessels bound for the caribbee islands, bermuda, and virginia. this was followed on the th by an act prohibiting all commerce with these colonies because of their rebellion against the commonwealth. virginia and the bermudas had declared for king charles the second after the execution of his father, and sent emissaries to barbados for the purpose of inciting them to join in the revolt. [illustration: st. kitt's. (_from andrews' "west indies."_)] at the commencement of that year barbados was in a state of ferment, waiting only for the spark which would plunge the island into civil war. even at this early period the inhabitants of little england, as it is called, were very loyal, and had something of the conceit which has characterised them ever since. true, there were "roundheads" on the island, but hitherto party differences had been put in the background--now they were brought into prominence. when the agent of the bermudians asked that barbados should declare for the king, the majority were in favour of the project, but, as a matter of course, the others, who were of considerable importance, refused. at first the royalists went so far as to advocate the banishment of their opponents, but were unable to find any reasonable excuse for such a high-handed proceeding. however they brought in an act to imprison all who went to a conventicle, or who seduced others from repairing to the public congregation or from receiving the holy sacrament. for a second offence the penalty was forfeiture of all lands, goods, chattels, and debts by those whom they called "the enemy to the peace of the island." this was to have been published on april , , and kept secret until proclaimed, to prevent trouble. but it appears that colonel codrington, a member of the assembly, divulged it in his cups, for which he was fined twenty thousand pounds of sugar, and banished from the island. a deputation of parliamentarians then waited upon the governor, to enter their protest against the new law, and were asked to leave the matter in his hands, as he had to deal with "violent spirits." finally, the proclamation was delayed, on the ground that there were many errors in the copy, and the two parties stood at bay. on the rd of april the roundheads petitioned the governor to issue his writ for a new assembly, on the ground that the present body had sat for its full term. this he agreed to do, and thus alienated the cavaliers, who said he was a most emphatic roundhead and enemy to the king. handbills and posters now began to be circulated calling attention to the "damnable designe" of the independents, of which, they said, colonel drax, "that devout zealot (of the deeds of the devil, and the cause of that seven-headed dragon at westminster), is the agent." one of the writers declared that he should think his best rest but disquiet until he had sheathed his sword in the bowels of the same obnoxious personage. the cavaliers were still adding to their numbers by the arrival of more refugees, while colonel drax and his friends fell into the background. the new-comers had mostly been ruined by the civil war, and were naturally desirous of doing something to retrieve their fortunes; it followed, therefore, that anything that led to the confiscation of the estates of the obnoxious party would be to their advantage. the cavaliers set to work to rouse the island by going about on horseback, fully armed, everywhere challenging those they met to drink the health of charles the second and confusion to the independent dogs. this, with the rumours of a roundhead plot and the various manifestoes, induced the governor to issue a proclamation declaring that in future if any persons spread such scandalous papers they would be proceeded against as enemies of the public peace, at the same time forbidding any one to take up arms in a hostile manner. this produced little effect, for the leader of one of the roving bands, colonel shelley, refused to disband. on this the governor issued commissions to raise a militia for the preservation of order, but by the time that a hundred men had been collected an alarm went forth that the cavaliers were advancing on bridgetown. this was the st of may, and by that time the cavaliers were prepared to act. their leader was colonel walrond, who, on being sent for by the governor, and saying they had no evil intention, was allowed to depart. however, they took possession of the town, and then came forward with the demand that all independents and other disturbers of the peace should be at once disarmed. to this the governor agreed, provided the well-affected should vouch for their safety. they also stipulated that the magazine on the bridge should be put under their protection, that those who obstructed the peace and laboured to ruin the loyal colonists should be punished, that twenty persons whose names they gave should be forthwith arrested, and that the governor should speedily call together the assembly to try them; meanwhile they refused to disperse until these things were done. the governor could do nothing but accede to these demands, but even then there was something more which they considered the climax--"that our lawful soveraigne charles the second be instantly in a solemn manner proclaimed king." this staggered the governor, who said it was a matter for the general assembly, in which opinion he got them at last to agree. however, they were not yet content, but insisted that at the dissolution of the present assembly only such men as were known to be well-affected to his majesty and conformers to the church of england should be chosen and admitted. after that they must be promised an "act of oblivion" for the lawful taking up of arms, safe-conduct for all officers on legislative business, and, finally, that the governor must come to them without the companionship of any disaffected person and put himself under their care. all this was perforce agreed to, and on the rd of may charles the second was declared king of england, &c., as well as of barbados, and at the same time the book of common prayer was proclaimed to be the only pattern of true worship. behind all this was a fact which no one mentioned, but which probably everybody knew--on the th of april lord willoughby had arrived in the harbour, bearing a commission as governor of the caribbee islands, from the fugitive king charles and the earl of carlisle. no doubt the whole demonstration was got up on his account, the cavaliers wanting to have the king proclaimed first, so that there should be no difficulty about the commission. everything was ready now, and nothing was heard but uproarious drinking of his majesty's health, the cavaliers going from house to house and compelling others to follow their example. as for lord willoughby, he left the governor to carry out the stipulated measures, while he went to look after the other islands under his jurisdiction. now the royalists of barbados began to persecute the leaders of the obnoxious party, beginning with the twenty they had named to the governor. some, seeing their danger, had got off to england, but those who remained were sentenced to pay a million pounds of sugar and to be banished. then nearly a hundred others were indicted and ordered to leave before the nd of july, while all their commissions of the peace or in the militia were cancelled. wives were banished with their husbands, and unless the estate-owners humbly submitted, paid their fines, and appointed well-affected persons as attorneys, their properties were confiscated. yet with all that, when an attempt was made to get to the bottom of the rumoured plot, no trace of it could be found. some of the more moderate of the royalists even began to doubt whether they were not going too far, but they salved their consciences by saying that everything was done in the interest of the king. when the news arrived in england it created a great stir. in november some merchants and planters interested in the island asked for permission to make reprisals on their own account. they wanted licenses to trade there with five or six able ships, and letters of marque to use in case of obstruction, or a refusal to comply with certain demands. these demands were to repeal all acts dishonourable to the commonwealth, to renounce obedience to charles stuart, to acknowledge the supreme authority of the parliament, to banish certain "active incendiaries in the late troubles," and, finally, to recall those who had suffered, so that they might enjoy the same rights as the other inhabitants. a further petition asked for the removal of lord willoughby in favour of edward winslow, a man of approved fidelity to the commonwealth. the parliamentary government did not adopt these proposals, as they intended to reduce the island in a regular manner. in january, , a fleet was made ready for this purpose, but being employed in the reduction of the scilly islands, it could not be got ready for the west indies until june following. meanwhile lord willoughby had returned, and was doing his best to conciliate the barbadians of both parties. he did not altogether approve of what had been done, but repealed the acts of sequestration, thus putting the inhabitants in good spirits for the expected invasion. it was rumoured that prince rupert was coming out from marseilles, and this made things appear brighter, encouraging them to put their forts in order. the english fleet did not actually leave plymouth until the th of august. it was under the command of sir george ayscue, who took six or seven merchant vessels under convoy, probably those referred to in the petition. he reached barbados on the th of october, when as yet no news had been heard of prince rupert; in fact, that great seaman had been dissuaded from crossing the atlantic. fourteen dutch vessels were captured in carlisle bay, the sudden arrival of the fleet preventing their escape. willoughby had some six thousand foot and four hundred horse stationed at different parts of the island, and was determined to hold it for the king, looking forward daily to see prince rupert arrive. he had heard from a dutch vessel that the king was marching on london with an army of scots: this also tended to make his resistance all the more stubborn. from a few roundheads, who managed to come off in the night, ayscue learnt this, but he was as equally determined to subdue the island as willoughby was to defend it. on being called upon to surrender the island for the use of the parliament of england, the governor replied that he acknowledged no supremacy over englishmen save the king and those having commissions from him, directing the letter to the admiral on board his majesty's ship the _rainbow_. he also said that he had expected some overtures of reparation for the hostile acts upon the ships in the bay. after this defiance nothing was left but to prepare first for a strict blockade, and then to effect a landing. the strength on shore was too great for any open attack, and ayscue managed to send a proclamation addressed to the freeholders and inhabitants, urging them to accept in time his offers of peace and mercy. in answer to this the assembly met and passed a declaration to "sticke to" lord willoughby and defend the island to the utmost. in england a great deal of interest was felt in the struggle, and the demand for news of the expedition created a supply giving circumstantial accounts of what had _not_ taken place. one of them was headed, "bloody news from the barbados, being a true relation of a great and terrible fight between the parliament's navie, commanded by sir george ayscue, and the king of scots' forces under the command of the lord willoughby; with the particulars of the fight, the storming of the island, the manner how the parliament's forces were repulsed and beaten off from carlisle bay and the block house, and the number killed and wounded." and all this before any attempt had been made beyond the blockade! on the receipt of the news of the battle of worcester, ayscue sent another flag of truce to give willoughby the information, saying that he did so as a friend rather than as an enemy. he was acting in that quality, by stating the true condition of england, and leaving him and his friends to judge of the necessity for due obedience to the state of england; otherwise they would be swallowed up in the destruction so shortly and inevitably coming upon them. in reply, willoughby said he had never served his king so much in expectation of prosperity as in consideration of duty, and that he would not be the means of increasing the sad affliction of his majesty by giving up that island. to this ayscue rejoined, that if there were such a person as the king, willoughby's retention of that place signified nothing to his advantage, and therefore the surrender could be small grief to him. he well knew the impossibility of the island subsisting without the patronage of england, and the admiral's great desire was to save it from ruin and destruction. as willoughby refused to surrender, ayscue determined to attack the hole or james's town, which he did on the nd of november, beating off its defenders, taking thirty prisoners, and spiking the four guns of the fort. on the st of december the fleet which had been sent to reduce virginia arrived, and on the temporary addition of this force, ayscue again sent to willoughby, as he stated, for the last time. in reply he was told that the assembly would consider the matter in two or three days, but this reply did not please the admiral, so he tried to hurry up the decision by landing at speight's town. against the stubborn opposition of twelve hundred men he stormed and took the fort, which he held for two days, ultimately retiring, however, after burning the houses, demolishing the fortifications, and throwing the guns into the sea. after that the correspondence was continued, ayscue entreating willoughby to spare the good people of the island the horrors of war. to this the governor replied, that they only took up arms in their own defence; the guilt of the blood and ruin would be at the doors of those who brought force to bear. then the virginia fleet sailed for its destination, and ayscue recommenced hostilities by again occupying speight's town. by this time, however, there was a party on the island in favour of peace, and they began to bestir themselves, thus making the royalists more determined. they put forth a proclamation inviting the inhabitants to endure the troubles of war for a season, rather than by base submission to let the deceitful enemy make them slaves for ever. but the roundheads now began to assemble under colonel modiford at his house, to the number of six hundred men, who declared for the parliament, and threatened to bring willoughby to reason, the admiral going so far as to visit them surreptitiously to read his commission. hearing of this, willoughby got two thousand four hundred men together and appeared near the house, but did not venture to attack it, as by this time he had become somewhat disheartened. this brought things to a crisis, and on the th of january arrangements were made for a commission from both sides to make arrangements for terms. after a great deal of hesitation on the part of the admiral, the capitulation was at last signed, the articles being exceedingly favourable both to the inhabitants and lord willoughby. so lenient were they that ayscue had to excuse himself to the home authorities for fear that he might have been misunderstood. they were, in short, liberty of conscience, continuation of the old government, and of the old courts of justice, no taxation without consent of the assembly, no confiscations, all suits to be decided on the island, no acts of indemnity, no oaths against their consciences, a temporary cessation of all civil suits, and finally that lord willoughby should retain all his private property in the islands as well as in surinam, with full liberty to go to england. these articles were signed on the th of january, , and the "storm in a teapot" came to an end, the barbadians proudly boasting that they had been able to defy the mighty power of the commonwealth. most of the leaders were banished from the island, some going to surinam, where a colony had been established by lord willoughby soon after his arrival in barbados. among them was major byam, who became governor, and virtually held the settlement for the king until he came to his own again. this is all the more curious because cromwell knew the circumstances, yet made no effort to bring the people under submission. at first the settlers established a little commonwealth of their own, with major byam as president, but when his term had expired, instead of giving place to another he declared he had a commission as governor from the king, although he refused to show the document to any one. with enough royalists to back him, he thus held office until the restoration, notwithstanding the complaints of the parliamentary faction and their requests to the home authorities for redress. meanwhile, early in england went to war with the dutch, and this seriously interfered with the trade of that nationality in the west indies. the navigation act was another blow to them, although it could not yet be enforced altogether. cromwell made himself respected in such a manner that peace with holland was restored in april, , thus leaving him free to carry out his designs against the old enemy--spain. since queen elizabeth's time the english governments had done little in the way of worrying the spaniards, although pirates had been busy almost without intermission. now, however, cromwell was at liberty, and he began to see that they wanted a little correction to prevent their having too much of their own way in america. the spanish ambassador was cringing enough when he saw what a powerful leader had arisen, and did his best to avert the impending storm. it is even stated that he assured the protector of his master's friendship, and declared that if he took the crown of england spain would be first in her approval. cromwell was not to be mollified by soft speeches; he had got peace at home, and was determined to have it across the seas as well. he was quite willing to arrange for a treaty, but it must be on his own terms, not at the dictation of spain. a commission was appointed to meet the ambassador and discuss the grounds of the agreement, and they began at once with the west indies. a long list of depredations was produced for which the english demanded satisfaction before going farther. the english had been treated as enemies wherever the spaniards met them in the west indies, even when going to and from their own plantations, notwithstanding the former treaty, and the commission insisted on a proper indemnity. the english must be free to trade everywhere--in fact the old claim of spain to the whole of america must be finally abandoned. the spanish ambassador replied that the inquisition and trade to the west indies were his master's two eyes, and that nothing different from the practice of former times could be permitted. on hearing this cromwell, seeing that neither indemnity for the past nor promises of amendment in the future could be obtained, prepared for war, and commenced by fitting out an expedition to conquer hispaniola. in december, , we find the first mention of a special service under the command of generals penn and venables, and early in the following year the fleet sailed for barbados. with five thousand men from england, and as many from the west indies, the expedition arrived near st. domingo on the th of april, , frightening the inhabitants so much that they fled to the woods on its approach. however, the affair was so badly managed that no benefit accrued from following the example of drake, which appears to have been the object of the leaders. like the great elizabethan hero, they landed at a distance from the town with the intention of marching along the shore, but instead of landing ten miles off they went as far as thirty. for four days the troops wandered through the mangrove bushes, without guides, and even without provisions, thus giving the runaway spaniards time to rally from their fright and come out after them. weary, entangled in the swamps, and utterly unfit to cope with an enemy, the english became an easy prey; the slaughter was considerable, and it was even stated that those killed were mostly shot in the back while trying to escape. unwilling to attempt anything further in hispaniola, penn and venables took off the dispirited remnant and sailed for jamaica, hoping to do something there to prevent failure altogether. not that there were any laurels to be gained in that direction, for the inhabitants only numbered three thousand, and half of these were negro slaves. a few shots were fired, and then the inhabitants took to flight, leaving the english in possession of the island. a capitulation was agreed upon with the old spanish governor, who was brought in a hammock to sign it, but many of the people took to the woods with their slaves, and refused to be bound by the articles. a body of two thousand men was then sent to scour the interior and bring them back, but they could find nothing save great herds of wild cattle. afterwards, in pure wantonness, the churches and religious buildings were demolished, the cattle killed or driven far away, and the provision grounds devastated, with the result that the invaders were soon starving. in less than a month two thousand were sick, many had died, and the remainder had become mutinous. altogether the whole affair was so badly managed that cromwell became almost mad at the news, and sent both commanders to the tower on their return. however, jamaica was captured, and for the first time in the history of the west indies a spanish possession went into the hands of another nation. some thought the island of no importance as compared with hispaniola--it was certainly of little value to the spaniards. however, a few english people foresaw something of its future importance, and did their best to develop the island. in october cromwell issued a proclamation offering certain advantages to settlers from the other islands, or from england, so that it might be occupied as soon as possible. it stated that by the providence of god jamaica had come into the possession of the state, and that they were satisfied of its fertility and commodiousness for trade; it had therefore been resolved to plant it. to this end it was made known to the people of the english islands and colonies the encouragements offered to those who removed their habitations there within two years from the th of september, . twenty acres of land would be granted to every adult, and ten for each child, they would have freedom to hunt wild cattle and horses, be given the privilege of mining except for gold and silver, and freedom from taxes for three years. it resulted from this that many planters from barbados and st. kitt's went over, and in a very few years jamaica was more prosperous than it had ever been while in the possession of spain. in november, , cromwell ordered the scotch government to apprehend all known idle masterless robbers and vagabonds, male or female, and to transport them there, and at the same time the council of state ordered that a thousand girls and as many young men should be enlisted in ireland for the same purpose. as for the adventurers who went with the expedition, they were reported as being so lazy "that it could not enter into the heart of any englishman that such blood should run in the veins of his countrymen"--they were so unworthy, slothful, and basely secure, out of a strange kind of spirit desiring rather to die than live. as for planting, little was done by them, although every possible inducement and encouragement was given. meanwhile letters of marque were issued to privateers for the west indies, which drove the spaniards to send their treasure from peru to buenos ayres, a route that had been abandoned since the time of queen elizabeth. now also they began to make efforts for the recovery of jamaica, and in may, , thirty companies of infantry, under the command of the late governor, landed on the north side of the island. here in a small harbour they entrenched themselves, and built a little fort before their presence became known to the english. however, governor d'oyley at last heard of the invasion, but it was nearly two months after their arrival before he could proceed to approach them by sea. when he arrived, however, with seven hundred and fifty men, he at once stormed their fortress and drove them to their vessels, in which they fled to cuba. this put an end to the matter; but the old governor returned, and lived with the remnant of the spaniards and their slaves in the mountains. now at last even the pope had to acknowledge other sovereignty than that of spain, and this he did in a letter to father fontaine, of the dominican mission, on the th of july, . therein he acknowledged the king of france as ruler of the conquests and colonies his subjects had made in the american islands. thus was the bull of partition at last cancelled by the successor of its original promulgator, and the ground for the exclusive claim to america cut away. at this time france was also at war with spain, but the following year a treaty was signed, and in , on the restoration of charles the second, peace was restored with england. at the first private audience of the spanish ambassador with the king, he delivered a memorial demanding the restoration of jamaica to his master, on the ground that it had been taken by his rebel subjects, contrary to the treaty between the two crowns. instead of doing this, however, charles despatched a vessel with letters to the governors of the caribbee islands, asking them to encourage all persons willing to transplant themselves to the larger islands. at the same time the royal african company, the great slave-trading corporation of that time, was asked to make jamaica its headquarters for the sale of negroes. then it was arranged to send women from england to be wives for the planters, newgate and bridewell to be spared as much as possible, so that poor maids might have a chance, with whom it was stated that few english parishes were unburdened. on the st of december, , king charles the second made a move which must be considered as of the greatest importance to the development of the british colonial empire--he founded the "council for foreign plantations," which later developed into the colonial office. this council were to inform themselves of the state of the plantations and of how they were governed, keeping copies of all grants in a book. they were to write to every governor asking for exact accounts of their proceedings, the nature of their laws and government, as well as statistics. they must establish a correspondence with the colonies, so that the king might be informed of all complaints, their wants, what they cultivated, their commodities, and their trade, so that all might be regulated upon common grounds and principles. they must adopt means for rendering them and england mutually helpful, and bring them into a more uniform government, with a better distribution of justice. especial care was to be taken for the execution of the navigation act, and consideration given to the best means of providing servants, to which end care was to be taken that no persons were forced or enticed away by unlawful means. those willing to be transported were, however, to be encouraged, and a legal course was to be settled for sending over vagrants and others who were noxious and unprofitable in england. learned and orthodox ministers were also to be sent, and instructions given for regulating and repressing the debaucheries of planters and servants. the council were also to consider how the natives and slaves might be invited to, and made capable of, baptism in the christian faith, and finally to dispose of all matters relating to the good government, improvement, and management of the plantations. thus england commenced her great career of colonisation, the results of which we see to-day. while taking all due account of virginia and new england, we cannot but note that it was in the west indies where the "prentice hand" was first tried. jamaica was the main object of these provisions--to that island the king's attention had been specially directed, and it was here that many difficulties had to be encountered before it could be made a worthy appendage of the crown. most of the other islands were in the hands of private persons or companies, while this was under the control of the state. no matter that the island had been annexed by rebels, charles the second was determined to hold it fast for england, in spite of all the protests of spain. [illustration] vii. the planters and their slaves. when the first european adventurers went to the west indies, serfdom was still common in spain. the peasantry were, as a rule, bound to the soil, and could neither be taken away by their lords nor remove at their own will. the consequence was that only soldiers, mariners, and free men from the towns took part in the first expeditions. the townsmen had mostly been brought up to the trades of their fathers, and were hardly fit to cultivate the land even in spain, much less, therefore, were they suited to the tropics. they could not demean themselves by performing anything so servile, but must get their land cultivated by others. as the serfs were not available, first indians and then negro slaves and white bond-servants were employed. we have seen how the indians were exterminated, and how the first planters in hispaniola were ruined by the want of labour. even the spanish priests could see that the poor arawak's nature was quite distinct from that of the european peasant. the serf had been kept under subjection for centuries; his father and grandfather had worked in the fields, and he must do the same. the armourer, the mason, and the weaver carried on their trades, because they had been born into the respective guilds as it were. the indians, on the contrary, were free, and had always been so; yes, more free than any people in the old world. they died, and the planter had to look elsewhere for his labour supply. then commenced the cry which has been continually rising from the plantations ever since--more servants! more slaves! more coolies! [illustration: a surinam planter. (_from stedman's "surinam."_)] for many years the portuguese had been kidnapping negroes on the west coast of africa. by their connection with morocco they had learnt that the natives of the interior were brought to and openly sold in the moorish towns--possibly they themselves had purchased some of them. to bring home a number after every voyage to the coast was therefore nothing strange, nor was it anything novel to sell them in portugal to help pay the expense of the voyage. from portugal to spain this negro slavery spread, until it became fairly common in both countries. when the cry for labourers came over the atlantic--even before the extermination of the natives--a few negroes were sent out. finding them more docile and better able to endure hard labour than the indians, more were called for, the benevolent priests also urging the matter to save the remnant of the arawaks. the demand created a supply, and soon the portuguese found themselves embarked in a lucrative trade, of which they commanded the monopoly. thus began a traffic which has been unreservedly condemned by the most enlightened of humanity, and praised alone by those whose very livelihood depended upon it. [illustration: a negro festival. (_from edwards' "west indies."_)] on his second voyage columbus carried the sugar cane, which was destined to have such an influence for good and evil on the west indies. its produce was at first known as a kind of honey, and recognised as an expectorant and comforting medicine. now it had made its way into the kitchens of the great, where it was considered as one of the spices, and with them became more and more used every year. in early times the cane was cultivated on the warmer shores of the mediterranean, and, after their discovery, in the canary and cape de verde islands. at the period of the discovery of america sugar was sold at about eightpence a pound, equivalent to something like three shillings nowadays. as the demand continued to increase large plantations were laid out in hispaniola, until it became the staple product of the colony. cotton was known in the old world, but as yet had hardly come into use in europe. in the west indies it was generally cultivated in a small way by every native, and on being forwarded to spain, the "tree wool," as it was called, soon came into use. then came another product, tobacco, which was quite new at that time, although probably known in the far east. it seemed strange to the new-comers that people should carry firebrands in their mouths, and at first they took tobacco-smokers for juggling fire-eaters, until they also learnt the sustaining power of the "weed." this soon took place, and by the year tobacco was well known in spain and italy. probably also the dutch knew it quite as early, for it was in the netherlands that it became more quickly appreciated than in any other country, probably on account of its particularly comforting properties in marshy districts. soon afterwards jean nicot introduced it into france, and probably master hawkins brought samples into england from brazil, although ralegh is stated to have been the first english smoker. towards the end of the sixteenth century its use became so common all over europe that popes and churchmen thundered their curses against the "filthy habit," and later poor king james wrote his "counterblast to tobacco," which only had the effect of making it better known. [illustration: voyage of the sable venus. (_from edwards' "west indies."_)] here at the beginning were two commercial products which grew well in the west indies, with a doubtful third to come to the front as soon as it became known. as yet coffee had not been introduced--this followed in the next century. notwithstanding the large profit on sugar the spaniard would not labour in the field, and in the end the plantations became fewer and fewer until only one or two were left. this falling off tended to keep up the price, and although the dutch bought much cotton and tobacco from the indians of the main, and the portuguese began to grow sugar in brazil, the supply was always limited. there was room for more plantations, and the first people to take advantage of this opening were the english. their many different colonies in guiana all commenced planting with tobacco: virginia and the bermudas did the same. all through the reign of james the first, however, the trade was obstructed in so many ways that a great deal of their produce was sent to the netherlands and thus escaped the english duties. probably also the smuggling of tobacco, so notorious at a later period, began at this time, as the dutch were always noted free-traders, not only on the spanish main, but in europe as well. [illustration: slaves landing from the ship. (_from stedman's "surinam."_)] like the spaniards, the english adventurers were soldiers and sailors, and therefore did not work in the field. subject to the raids of the european claimants of the territory as well as the incursions of ferocious cannibals, they went about literally with pistols in their belts and swords at their thighs. now they had to show a good face to some buccaneer company, and anon to fight the french or dutch when war broke out. later, when there was no fear of enemies from without, they had a continual dread of slave insurrections. it followed, therefore, that the planter was always on the alert, and, even if he felt inclined, could do little in the way of cultivation. in england serfdom had virtually come to an end, and the agricultural labourer might go where he pleased. but the love of country, the unknown but magnified perils of a sea voyage, and stories of cruel spaniards and man-eating caribs, prevented many from going to the indies, notwithstanding the great inducements offered. the english planters found it difficult to get negroes, as their enemy controlled the trade. as for the indians, they had to deal with cannibals whose women cultivated small clearings, but resented anything like coercion, while no labour whatever could be got from the men. something had to be done. if the english labourer would not come willingly, he might be kidnapped, and the carrying out of this work led to the organisation of bands of ruffians, who went sailing along the coasts, especially of scotland and ireland, to pick up likely fellows wherever they found opportunity. however, this caused such an outcry that extraordinary efforts were made on the part of the government to put down "spiriting," as it was called. in june, , the council for foreign plantations considered the best means of encouraging and furnishing people for the colonies, and they thought that felons condemned for small offences, and sturdy beggars, might be sent. they had several complaints of men, women, and children being spirited away from their masters and parents, and later the mayor of bristol and the lord mayor of london petitioned the king for authority to examine ships, with the view of finding out whether the passengers went of their own free will. it was stated that husbands forsook their wives, wives fled from their husbands, children and apprentices ran away, while unwary and credulous persons were often tempted on board by men-stealers. many who had been pursued by hue and cry for robberies, burglaries, and breaking prison, also escaped to the plantations. certain persons, called spirits, inveigled, and by lewd subtleties enticed, away young persons, whereby great tumults and uproars were raised in london, to the breach of the peace and the hazard of men's lives. these abuses led to an order in council, published in september, , for registering persons going voluntarily, and commissions were given to the lord high admiral and the officers of the ports to establish registration offices and give certificates. yet the spiriting still went on, for in april, , sir anthony ashley cooper was asked to move the house of commons to make the offence capital. his petitioner, said he, had found one lost child, and after much expense and trouble, freed him, but there were several others in the same ship, and other ships in the river at the same work. even if the parents found their children, they could not recover them without money, and he was sure that if such a law were passed the mercy to these innocents would ground a blessing on those concerned in introducing it. this act was finally passed on the st of march, , punishing the spirits with death without benefit of clergy. there were, however, other means of procuring servants. in , when cromwell took drogheda by storm, about thirty prisoners were saved from the massacre to be shipped to barbados, and in seven or eight thousand scots, taken at the battle of worcester, were reserved for a similar fate. after the restoration, however, there was an intermission in such supplies, and the planters began to look to newgate and bridewell for their labour supply. the supply was by no means equal to the demand, for the agents in london of the planters of virginia, barbados, st. christopher's, and other islands were equally clamorous for their share. as for king charles the second, he granted the prisoners as a privilege to his favourites, and even mistresses, who generally sold it to the highest bidder. the agent must have had influence to get into the presence of the holder, say of a hundred prisoners sentenced to transportation, and this was only obtainable by largess to door-keepers and servants. then came the trouble of obtaining delivery from the prison authorities, and here again fees were demanded. in one case that is recorded the amount paid to the gaoler of newgate was fifty-five shillings a head. but even now the trouble was only beginning. the prisoners were supposed to be delivered at the door of the gaol, and the planter was under a heavy bond not to allow one to escape. he must account for each by a certificate of death on the voyage or of landing in barbados, on penalty of five hundred pounds for every one missing. it followed, therefore, that a sufficiently strong guard had to be provided, and provision made for attempts at rescue by the prisoners' friends. even this was not all, for the concession simply granted a certain number, and it rested with the gaoler to palm off the old, weak, and infirm on those who were at all wanting in liberality. then, at the best the prisoners were hatters, tailors, and haberdashers, rather than agricultural labourers, many of whom ultimately proved valueless. if a large number was available, and there were several applicants, the competition became quite spirited--every one wanted his pick before the others, and the gaoler made the best of the occasion, leaving those to whom he allotted the refuse to curse their evil fortune. up to the passing of the navigation act the dutch had been free to trade with english colonies, and had brought a fair number of negroes; and afterwards the king established the royal african company to prevent the supply being cut off. the average price of the african was then about £ or , pounds of sugar, but the dutch sold their slaves for a little less, which led the planters to evade the navigation act when they had opportunities. the white bond-servant was valued at about , pounds of sugar, very little less than the slave for life, although he had generally but five years to serve. the cost of transport was about £ per head; it followed, therefore, that if the london agent got his prisoners cheap he made a good profit. there was also another way of making money in this business. some of the gaol-birds had friends who were willing to pay good sums on consideration that the convict should be virtually freed on his arrival. many a sum of fifty pounds was obtained in this way, sometimes without helping the bond-servant in the least. how were the relations to prove that the promise had not been fulfilled, and if they did so what redress could be obtained? they certainly could not go to law, as the whole transaction was illegal. we have seen how charles the second tried to people jamaica with free settlers, but this did not prevent the transportation of criminals. in four young men, who had been convicted of interrupting and abusing a preacher, were whipped through the streets of edinburgh and afterwards sent to barbados, and in some of the rye house plotters were reprieved on condition that they served ten years in the west indies. when these plotters arrived in jamaica, the governor, "by his majesty's command," directed the assembly to pass an act "to prevent all clandestine releasements or buying out of their time," so that their punishment should not be evaded. but it was after the monmouth rebellion, in , that the greatest deportation took place. the miserable followers of the duke were executed by judge jeffreys until even his thirst for blood was somewhat slackened, when the remainder were sent to the plantations. the story of one of these unfortunates gives such a graphic picture of the life of a bond-servant that we cannot do better than give an outline of the "relation of the great sufferings and strange adventures of henry pitman, surgeon to the late duke of monmouth." having been taken prisoner after the battle of sedgemoor, he was committed to ilchester gaol, had his pockets rifled, his clothes torn off his back, and was remanded until the wells assizes. while in gaol he was inveigled into telling all he knew, by promises of pardon, and then his acknowledgments were treated as a confession. those who pleaded not guilty on the first day of the trial were convicted and executed the same afternoon; others who confessed were equally condemned. after two hundred and thirty had been hanged the remainder were ordered to be transported to the caribbee islands, of whom pitman was one. with some others, including his brother, he was disposed of to an agent who took £ from his friends to set him free on his arrival at barbados. the legislative assembly of that island, however, in consequence of the "most horrid, wicked, and execrable rebellion," lately raised, and because many of the rebels had been transported for ten years, passed a special act, under which they were bound to serve, notwithstanding any bargain to the contrary. if they attempted to escape they were to be flogged, and burnt in the forehead with the letters "f.t.," meaning "fugitive traitor." by this law pitman's hopes were frustrated, and, utterly disheartened, he was not inclined to work at his profession for the master to whom he had been sold. although the status of a surgeon was not then as high as it is now, it was yet a great downfall to practise the profession on rations of five pounds of salt beef or fish per week, with nothing else but corn meal. as for the fees, which were large, the master pocketed them, leaving pitman to endure the discomforts of a tropical residence and semi-starvation as best he could. on one occasion he refused to go on with his work, and for this he was beaten by his master until the cane used was broken in pieces. then the master became bankrupt, and, with his brother, pitman was sent back to the merchant to whom they had been first consigned. here his brother died of the hardships he had experienced, and pitman resolved to escape, notwithstanding the risk of attempting such a thing. having made the acquaintance of a poor man who was willing to help, he got a consignment of goods from his friends in england, with which to raise the means. a boat was purchased for twelve pounds; but this led to inquiries, as the buyer was known to be poor, and his creditors began to come down upon him. however, pitman contributed enough to satisfy them, meanwhile postponing his departure until suspicion had been lulled. on the evening of the th of may, --this being a holiday, when most of the people were revelling--he and seven other bond-servants got safely off in their open boat, with a small supply of provisions and water, a few tools, a compass, and a chart. they intended to make for the dutch island of curaçao, six hundred miles distant; but even before they were out of carlisle bay their frail craft began to leak, and they had to tear up their clothes to stop the gaping seams. at sunrise they were out of sight from the land, but so enervated by sea-sickness that some would willingly have gone back. however, they went on as best they could, with nothing but their hats to bale out the water, which still continued to trickle into the boat. they were a little more comfortable as the sun rose, but when night came a gale arose which kept them employed baling for their lives. to add to their difficulties the rudder broke, and they had to steer with an oar. five days passed in this manner, the refugees hardly able to get an hour's rest for the baling and continual fear that the boat would sink if left alone. on the sixth morning they saw margarita, but could not land on account of the rocky shore, which nearly wrecked them on their making the attempt. sheering off, they next day sighted saltatudos island, one of the dry tortugas, where they met a boat manned with privateers, who treated them very kindly, and wanted them to join their company. to this, however, pitman and his companions would not agree, and this annoyed the privateers, who burnt their boat and virtually kept them as prisoners. when they went on a cruise the refugees were left in charge of four men, and had much ado to find enough turtle to keep them from starving. after remaining here for three months an english privateer arrived, and, at their request, took them on to new providence, to which the inhabitants had just returned after being driven off by spaniards. pitman at last got to amsterdam, and from thence to england, where the revolution had just taken place, and his friends had succeeded in obtaining a free pardon. the white bond-servant, being under a short engagement, was generally worked to his utmost capacity. no matter if he died before the end of his term as long as he paid for the expense incurred. but englishmen were no more inclined to be slaves then than they are now, and the planters of st. kitt's found them so troublesome to manage that they soon became afraid of buying, and showed a preference for negroes. some of the english servants committed suicide, and it is recorded that a pious master told one of them, who had expressed his intention of destroying himself, that he trusted that god would give him more grace, than, for a short term of trouble in this life, to precipitate himself into hell. even in the earliest times some of the planters were absentees, living in england. the system was always more or less fortune-hunting, the whole end and aim being to get rich and return to the old country. there were, as we have seen, many difficulties and dangers to encounter, and not the least of the drawbacks was the want of good society. we who live in an age when there is daily communication with the whole world, can hardly conceive how entirely these pioneers were cut off from their friends. the long voyage was full of discomfort, and at the best uncertain as to its termination. the words still found on bills of lading, "the act of god or the queen's enemies," had a meaning then hardly appreciable by the present generation. barbary pirates and french corsairs ranged the channel; in the broad atlantic storms shook the crazy vessels to pieces; and when they escaped these dangers, it was often to fall into the hands of the buccaneers when in sight of their destination. then there were hurricanes on both sea and land, and earthquakes on some of the islands. vessels were sunk in harbour, houses blown away, and sugar buildings torn down. as for the negro huts, they were carried off altogether, and the crops injured so as to become useless. then, perhaps, when the planter had strained himself to the utmost to put things straight, another tornado would put him in a worse plight than before. yet with all this the planter struggled on, generally doing his best to carry the traditions and fashions of the mother country into his new home. we have already noticed barbados, and how it was affected by the "great rebellion." many other examples might be noted had we sufficient space. the planter was nearly always a gentleman, even if he had begun his career as a transported rebel. some were gallants, and dressed in the extreme of london fashion, often living beyond their means. others were merchants, trading with their own vessels, and selling their surplus goods for produce to make up cargoes. with their own sugar, and as much as they could procure from others, they filled their ships for the homeward voyage, and in return got enough merchandise for trading. these were the fortune-hunters, who were always looking forward to that happy time when, with money in their pouches, they could once more settle down in merry england. the old country was always "home," as it is still for the west indian, although perhaps neither himself nor his parents ever saw it--then it was the will-o'-the-wisp that drove him to endure all the discomforts of a life in the tropics, often to die of fever before his work was hardly begun. while jamaica was under the dominion of spain little was done to develop the island. the indians were exterminated, as in hispaniola, to be replaced by wild cattle and horses, and fifteen hundred negroes were introduced to cultivate provision grounds. from these, passing vessels, which called in on their way to mexico, got their supplies. as yet it was not a rendezvous for buccaneers, and taken altogether it was quite insignificant. thousands of white men and tens of thousands of negroes were required before it became the important island which ultimately rivalled hispaniola. however, although the spaniard was driven out he left his sting behind in the shape of his slaves, who took to the mountains, to be afterwards known as maroons, and to worry the english colonists for over a century. and here, as we are dealing with the planter and his labour supply, we must say something of the negro slaves, to whom the west indies were indebted for their very existence as european colonies. unlike the american, the african had known slavery for ages. prisoners taken in war were kept in servitude as a matter of course; debtors were slaves to their creditors, and even children were sold by their parents. yet there were great differences between the tribes--the coromantees, for example, were particularly troublesome, and the foulahs often dangerous. the first slave-traders took their cargoes from the more northern coasts, and from this cause, perhaps, as well as the want of proper supervision in the indies, runaways, or simerons, were mentioned at very early periods. later, the trade was carried on in a particularly judicious manner, and the more docile tribes selected, to be sold in the colonies as "prime gold coast negroes." in their native countries these people were all virtually slaves to their chiefs, and as such were liable to be sold at any time. the authority was unlimited; the slightest offence meant slavery; death was the only alternative. often when, for some reason or other, the negro was rejected by the trader, he was executed at once. adultery was punished by the sale of both offenders, and debtors could be sold by their creditors. bryan edwards, author of a history of the west indies, took much pains to procure information from the slaves themselves, through an interpreter; and as they had no reason to misrepresent their cases, we can safely give the outlines of one. the most interesting story is, perhaps, that of the boy adam, a congo, about fourteen years of age when he was brought to jamaica. his country was named sarri, and was situated a long distance from the coast. while walking one morning through a path, about three miles from his native village, the boy was captured by one of his countrymen. with his prisoner the man hid himself in the woods during the whole of the day, and at night stole away from the neighbourhood, going on like this for a whole month. then he came to the country of another tribe, where he sold the boy for a gun, some powder and shot, and a little salt. his new owner afterwards sold adam for a keg of brandy to another black man who was going about collecting slaves, and when twenty had been collected they were taken to the coast and sold to a jamaica captain. of the five-and-twenty interrogated by bryan edwards, fifteen frankly declared that they had been born in slavery, and were sold to pay the debts, or bartered to supply the wants, of their owners. five were secretly kidnapped in the interior, and sold to black merchants; the other five fell into the hands of the enemy in some of those petty wars which were continually going on, when, if there had been no market for their sale, they would almost certainly have been killed. it is hardly necessary to state that in giving these statements we are not attempting the impossible task of vindicating slavery either of the black or white man. it would be well, however, if, in mitigation of the offence against the negro, his former condition were taken into consideration, and the undoubted fact that he was better treated by the west india planter than by his own countrymen. his lot was by no means so hard as slavery had been to the indian and white bond-servant. he did not sink under the hardships of a life of toil in the burning sun, but was happy in his way, and in most cases better off than his descendant, the west indian peasant of to-day. he was certainly treated as a domestic animal, but his value was always high enough to prevent anything like ill-usage. there were certainly people who could be cruel to their negroes, as there are yet men so low as to brutally flog valuable horses, but that such were common is a statement utterly without foundation. as a well-kept animal, the planter took a pride in him, fed and doctored him, patted him on the back, and proudly showed him to his friends. all this appears very degrading to humanity, but after all the negro did not see it in that light. on the contrary, he took a pride in exhibiting his strong muscles and in showing the "buccras" what a fine nigger massa had got. the slave of the rich planter, like the horse of the english gentleman, was undoubtedly very comfortable. first, he was a picked lot--the healthiest, strongest, and most suitable for his work--one of those "pieces d'india," as the best negroes were called by the traders. then, as an expensive chattel, everything was done to make him still more valuable, and to prevent his deteriorating. but unfortunately there was another class--the miserable, broken-down creatures sold cheap as refuse lots to poor white men or even to slaves. yes, the slaves bought their diseased fellow-countrymen, to work on their own allotments, treating them as the costermonger sometimes does his donkey. half-starved, hard-worked, and covered with sores, they lingered in misery until death came to make them free. some were so disfigured with yaws, or leprosy, that none but a negro could bear the sight of them; these were kept out of the way and treated worse than mangy dogs. [illustration] [illustration] viii. the struggle for supremacy. by the time of the dutch war of the pretensions of spain to the exclusive possession of the indies had been entirely ignored. now began the great struggle of other nations for supremacy, and the position of "sovereign of the seas," the islands and guiana becoming scenes of contention between english, french, and dutch. to these struggles is greatly due the positions the naval powers of the world hold to-day, and especially that of britain. as it was mainly a demand for free trade which led to so many attacks on the spanish possessions, so it was now the same question which led to the struggle between the two great mercantile nations which succeeded spain and portugal, as these had followed venice and genoa. in the west indies there was no line of demarcation between these new powers, and consequently their interests often clashed, but on the whole the colonists were favourable to the dutch, and did all they could to evade the navigation act. early in preparations were made in barbados to repel an expected invasion by the dutch. vessels were ordered to keep together and protect each other, and men-of-war were sent out to afford convoy. already the english buccaneers had been somewhat discountenanced by the home government, although they were generally encouraged by the colonies, especially jamaica, which derived considerable advantage from their sales of booty. now that there was a demand for all the forces that could be gathered together, the governor of that island gave the rovers letters of marque, under which they were empowered to ravage the dutch colonies. at st. eustatius they succeeded in carrying off everything portable, including nine hundred slaves, and even such heavy articles as sugar coppers and stills. de ruyter made an attempt on barbados on the th of april, but the people there made such a stand that he had to retire. he commenced the attack at ten o'clock in the morning with his fourteen vessels, but by three in the afternoon the fleet was so much damaged that he was forced to move away his own ship, with a hole in her side "as big as a barn-door." he then went on to montserrat and nevis, where he captured sixteen ships, but did not take either of the islands. in guiana, the english from barbados captured the dutch trading factory in the river essequebo, as well as the young sugar colony in the pomeroon, and in retaliation the dutch took surinam. in january, , france joined the netherlands, and an english fleet was sent out to protect barbados, which now began to feel alarmed at the possible result of such a powerful combination. then came the critical period for the island of st. kitt's, which, as we have before stated, had been divided between english and french, the former holding the middle portion with the enemy on either side. as soon as the news of the declaration of war arrived, the relations between the two nationalities, which had often before been much strained, became ruptured. the english governor, watts, gave his rival three days' notice, and prepared to attack him, with the assistance of five hundred men from nevis, and two hundred buccaneers. general de la salle, on the french side, asked and obtained forty-eight hours' longer grace, and took advantage of this to steal into the english territory with a large body of horse and foot, as well as a mob of negroes armed with bills and hoes. the slaves also carried firebrands, and were said to have been promised, in return for their assistance, freedom, english women as wives, and the liberty to plunder and burn. at the town of st. nicholas a gentlewoman with three or four children, on trying to escape, was forced back into her blazing house and kept there until the whole family were burnt to death. a party of english, who advanced to check their progress, was overwhelmed by the number of the enemy and driven back, thus leaving them to advance over the island with fire and sword. governor watts took things so coolly, that colonel morgan (not the famous sir henry), who led the buccaneers, went to rouse him, and found he was lounging about in dressing-gown and slippers. presenting a pistol to his breast, morgan called the governor a coward and a traitor, at the same time swearing he would shoot him dead if he did not at once take his place at the head of the forces. the contingent from nevis had already gone over to the french quarter near sandy point, and, after a hard struggle, had taken the post, when the governor at last followed behind. coming up late his men fired on the mingled french and english, indiscriminately slaughtering both. after that everything was confused, neither party distinguishing friend from foe, with the result that the governor, colonel morgan, several other officers, and most of the english, were killed. after that the main body of the french arrived, driving before them a confused mob of women and children, who ran shrieking to their friends for help. nothing remained for the english now but to fly or sue for quarter, and the french became masters of the whole island, with a body of prisoners twice as numerous as themselves. in a petition was forwarded to charles the second on behalf of several thousand distressed people, lately inhabitants of st. christopher's. in this it was stated that the island had been one of the most flourishing colonies--the first and best earth that ever was inhabited by englishmen among the heathen cannibals of america. they prayed that a colony so ancient and loyal, the mother island of all those parts, the fountain from whence all the other islands had been watered with planters, might not remain in the hands of another nation. since the surrender they had been continually oppressed, until thousands had left for other parts. many had sold their estates for almost nothing, and had been stripped and plundered at sea of the little they had saved. if the inhumanities of the french nation were examined, their bloody and barbarous usage of the indians, their miserable cruelties to prisoners of war, all nations would abhor their name. they would make christians grind their mills instead of cattle, leave thousands to starve for want, and send other thousands to uninhabited lands. in lord willoughby, who had gone back to barbados on the restoration of charles the second, fitted out an expedition to recapture st. kitt's, but his fleet encountered a hurricane, and neither his vessel nor one of his company was ever heard of again. the following year his nephew, henry willoughby, made an unsuccessful attempt for the same object. on the th of may of the same year a fight took place between the english and french fleets off nevis. on the english side were ten men-of-war and one fire-ship, while the enemy had more than double that number. one of the english vessels was blown up, but, undaunted by this disaster, they drove the enemy before them to the very shores of st. kitt's, where they took shelter under the guns of basse-terre. peace was signed at breda in july, . the gains of territory by any one of the three nations were not considerable, and the result went to prove that england could hold her own against the only two powers who were able to dispute her supremacy. during the war she had captured new amsterdam (now new york) from the dutch, and they in turn had taken surinam. as it was agreed with holland that both parties should retain what was then in their possession, surinam was virtually exchanged for what is now the capital of the united states. antigua and montserrat, which had been taken by the french, were now restored to england, and st. christopher's returned to its former condition, but without the least prospect of the two nationalities ever being again on friendly terms. now that the war was over the trade of the privateers came to an end, and further efforts were made to make them settle down. having received orders to discountenance them, the governor of jamaica deputed colonel cary to report on the matter. cary thought they should not be discouraged, as already harm had been done to jamaica by such attempts, and in the future the want of their help might be prejudicial. on the news that the commissions against the spaniards were called in, several english privateers resolved never to return to jamaica, unless there was a war, but in future to carry on their operations from tortuga. to divert them from injuring the spaniards, the governor had, during the late war, appointed cary to treat with them for the reduction of curaçao, to which they at first consented, but afterwards disagreed. if, said cary, they had two of his majesty's nimble fifth-rate frigates, they would be able to keep the privateers to their obedience, observe the enemy's movements, and guard their own coasts from rovers. there was no profitable employment for the privateers against the french and dutch; these fellows, being people that would not be brought to plant, must prey upon the spaniard, whether they were countenanced at jamaica or not. there was such an inveterate hatred of the english in those parts by the spaniard, that he would not hear of trade or reconciliation, but, on the contrary, inhumanly butchered any of the islanders he could cowardly surprise. the french interest daily increased in the caribbees, hispaniola, and tortuga, and if this was suffered to grow it would in a short time prove of dangerous consequence. here we have plain speaking. it was not to the interest of england for the pirates to become too closely connected with the french, as they would then be helping to build up the prosperity of a nation that might any day become our enemy. as for the rovers themselves, they cared little or nothing for the interests of their country; they were willing to plunder the spanish possessions because they got something worth having; with those of the french and dutch it was another thing. it is evident that cary troubled himself but little as to how a cargo was obtained as long as jamaica profited by the transaction. we may here also call attention to the differences between the characters of the nations which now commenced a great struggle for mastery in these parts. the dutch were, above everything else, an association of traders, and although they could fight on occasion, they hardly ever went out of their way to pick a quarrel. their wars with england were brought about by mercantile disputes, the first two, as we have already seen, mainly on account of the navigation acts. the english, "the nation of shopkeepers," were naturally rival traders, but they did not altogether confine themselves to traffic, being rather inclined to alternate or mix it up with something like piracy. such transactions as those of hawkins were not carried on by any other nation, the hollander being more inclined to take advantage of the swiftness of his fly boat than the metal of his guns. the french were rarely traders, for even their plantations were largely supported by buccaneering. when, after a peace, some of the rovers settled down for a time, they were always ready to abandon their fields at the first rumour of a war. england thus stood between the two others as a stumbling-block; she interfered with the trade of the one and offended the dignity of the other; thus coming in for many blows, which only made her all the more able to resist and conquer. the character of the dutchman is well shown in the curious difficulty which hastened a third breach of the peace with england in . in a fleet from the netherlands captured surinam, and forced the authorities of the colony to capitulate on favourable terms. by these articles the inhabitants were at liberty to sell or transport, when or where they pleased, all or any part of their possessions. after the peace, a few went to barbados, but the majority found it difficult to dispose of their plantations, and therefore remained in hopes of a better market on the arrival of new dutch settlers. at that time the dutchmen were few and mostly poor; they had been ruined by the war, and in many cases driven from their settlements by the english. it followed, therefore, that there were no buyers, and the plantation owners, trusting to the capitulation, decided to wait rather than abandon their flourishing properties. in june, , the dutch governor issued a proclamation calling upon all the english who intended to leave to give notice within six months, after which a like term was given them to dispose of their goods, when they might leave for english colonies under free passes from the authorities of both nations. in case they were unable to sell their slaves, the governor would take them over at the market price, but only those negroes who had been in their possession at the rendition of the colony could come under this arrangement. at first sight this looked very fair, but the english saw at once that something was wrong. in the first place they understood that under the capitulation they were free to take away all their property, including slaves, and at the then market prices they saw that a forced sale would be a serious loss. although not expressly intimated, they also understood that the governor meant they were not to carry them away, and this at once caused much dissatisfaction. things were, however, in such a critical state that little notice was taken of the proclamation; in fact, the people had not as yet made up their minds what to do. such a sacrifice as was required from those who had flourishing properties, naturally made them hesitate; and when the english government inquired about the matter, they were told by the dutch authorities that the people were so well satisfied that they intended to remain. such was, however, not the case, and when the year of grace had expired, and they were virtually prevented from leaving with or without their negroes, they sent memorials to king charles the second asking for his interference. it was another case of egyptian bondage; the dutch would not let the people go--except a few of the poorest. it can easily be understood that it was not very pleasant to lose the best colonists and have nothing left but a lot of abandoned plantations. this would have been a poor exchange for new york, and it is evident that the dutch knew very well what they were doing, and had the welfare of surinam at heart. but, in face of the capitulation, they were undoubtedly wrong, and when they began to oppress the english for claiming their rights, they went a great deal too far. when major bannister, who had been acting governor under the english, protested against this, he was arrested and transported to holland, where he obtained his release only by the intervention of the english ambassador. then complaints were made to the dutch government, but it was two years before permission was granted for commissioners from england to go out and transport those who wanted to leave. even then secret orders were sent to put every possible obstruction in their way, which was done by bringing suits for debt, and otherwise putting the english in positions which made it impossible for them to wind up their affairs. it followed, therefore, that only a few more went away, carrying with them the prayers of the more important to be delivered from such bondage. matters now came to a crisis. other questions had arisen between the two powers, notably some in connection with the eastern trade, and the refusal of holland to honour the english flag. war broke out in , and this time the french joined england against the dutch, who had to stand alone. french and english buccaneers were let loose to plunder the colonies, and they made the seas so dangerous that hardly one of the enemy's vessels could show herself in the west indies. the dutch colonies were thus cut off, and even the settlements of essequebo and berbice had to go without their usual supplies. this deprivation caused much dissatisfaction among the garrison of the latter colony, and led to a mutiny, which resulted in the incarceration of the governor, who was not released until next year, when the belated supplies arrived. spain was also involved in the war the following year, and thus all the nations interested in the west indies were fighting at once--holland and spain against france and england. the french buccaneers had already gained a footing on hispaniola; now they attempted to get possession of the whole island, but could not succeed. however, they went on to trinidad, which had always been a spanish island, and plundered it of a hundred thousand dollars. the spanish and dutch colonies suffered greatly, but englishmen by no means escaped altogether. as an example of their treatment by the enemy, the case of john darbey is interesting. in april, , he and six others were taken by a dutchman from a small english vessel, while sailing from st. thomas to antigua, and carried to havana. there they were kept in irons for five weeks, and then set to work as slaves on the fortifications. after enduring great misery for three months, they were removed to work on board a ship, which was captured by the french off st. domingo, when they were of course released, and finally carried to jamaica. here they told of the sufferings they had endured and witnessed--the story of which more and more embittered the english feeling against spain. on one occasion darbey had seen eight men brought in from a new england bark, who afterwards attempted to escape. they marched along the shore hoping to attract the notice of some friendly vessel, but the governor sent a party of soldiers in pursuit, and they were all murdered at once save the master, who was brought back, executed, and his head stuck on a pole. he also saw the commander of a man-of-war bring in a new england vessel and hang five men at the yard-arm, where the corpses were used as targets by him and his officers. the same captain wanted himself and several other englishmen to sail with them, but because they indignantly refused, he deliberately stabbed one of them with his sword, killing him at once. in february, , a treaty was signed at westminster in which there was a special clause bearing on the english in surinam. to the intent that there might be no more mistakes, the states general agreed that the articles of capitulation should not only be executed without any more prevarication, but also that his majesty of great britain should be free to depute commissioners to examine into the condition of his subjects and agree with them as to the time of their departure. also that no special laws should be made to hamper them in any way in the sale of their lands, payments of their debts, or barter of their goods, and that vessels should be as free to go to surinam, as they and their servants should also be free to depart. accordingly, in march, , three commissioners were instructed to proceed there, and were enjoined to see that the provisions of the treaty were properly carried out, to press for debts owing to the english, and to endeavour to get over the difficulty of their obligations to the dutch. vessels were provided to carry the settlers wherever they wished, and provision made for victualling them on the voyage, as well as for a short time after their landing in their new homes. now at last it might be presumed that the exodus could be freely managed; yet even then the dutch authorities tried to put obstructions in the way. among the servants of the english were many indians, some of whom were nominally free, and these the dutch governor demanded should be put ashore, to prevent the mischiefs and cruelties of the heathen, their friends, who might avenge themselves for the deportation on those who remained in the colony. the english claimed that these people went of their own free will, and that some of them were much attached to their white masters, which was probably true. besides these, most of whom were got off against the governor's protests, there were ten jews with slaves, in preventing the departure of whom he was more successful. they were not, strictly speaking, british subjects, although they had lived under the flag for many years, and the commissioners did not insist on their admission. finally, three vessels sailed away for jamaica in september, , carrying , people, including thirty-one indians, and more negroes than whites. on arriving at that island they were granted lands in st. elizabeth, afterwards known as surinam quarters, and thus guiana again became a factor in the development of the english islands. as for the jews, even they were afterwards allowed to depart when they memorialised the king and got him to press the matter. even yet, however, the last had not been heard of this detention, for it cropped up again in the case of jeronomy clifford, one of those who actually left with the others for jamaica. he was then a lad, and went off with his father, returning again to the colony as the second husband of an englishwoman who had property there. it appears that, as surgeon of a dutch vessel, he was so kind to a dying planter named charles maasman, that his widow went to london and married him in august, . not getting on very well in surinam, clifford and his wife resolved to sell out and take their slaves with them to jamaica, but in this they were frustrated. the dutch felt very sore about the former migration, especially when jamaica plumed herself on her great acquisition, and taunted them with the fact that they got little by the transfer of the colony. when, therefore, clifford made known his intention, the governor told him he could not remove his wife's property because she had inherited it from a dutch subject. clifford had some of that doggedness which has been observed so often in englishmen, and was determined to obtain what he considered his rights. under the capitulation he might leave at any time, and he did not consider that this right had been in any way forfeited. however, the dutch governor said otherwise, and, to prevent the alienation or removal of his property, put it in trust, and then endeavoured to set his wife against him so that she might refuse to leave. by some tittle-tattle about a female cousin of clifford, her jealousy was aroused, and she petitioned for a divorce on the grounds of cruelty and adultery. however, when she found out the object of the traducers of her husband, she asked that her petition be annulled and made void, because she had been misled and drawn away by the ill advices of others--now she was sorry, and well satisfied and content with him. this having been read before the court of justice, a council of dutch planters, they showed their animus by deciding that mrs. clifford was a weak and silly woman, and that it appeared to them that her husband, to the prejudice of his wife and that land, had endeavoured to remove his goods, which they would willingly prevent. they therefore ordered the plantation to be appraised and put in commission, forbidding either clifford or his wife from diminishing, removing, or making away with the estate, but only to enjoy the interest and produce as long as they lived and corresponded well with each other. they also wished the wife much joy of her reconciliation, and condemned her to pay the costs both present and future. finally, considering her frowardness and ill-nature, and for an example to all other like-natured women, they condemned her to pay a fine of five thousand pounds of sugar. clifford, who yet stood by what he considered his right, was now subjected to a number of petty persecutions. his wife went to england, leaving him her attorney, and he began to pester the governor to remove the illegal arrest on his estate. at last this importunity led to his arrest, and he was sentenced by this same court of justice to be hanged, as a mutineer and disturber of the public peace. but, being "more inclined to clemency than to carry things to the utmost rigour of justice," they commuted this sentence to imprisonment for seven years, with a fine of a hundred and fifty thousand pounds of sugar. as may be supposed, this arbitrary judgment only made clifford more exasperated. he still went on petitioning and protesting that he was not a dutch subject, as he had refused to take the oath of allegiance, and that therefore he was only standing up for his rights. however, he was imprisoned in the fort, where every effort was made to prevent his communicating with england or the english colonies. notwithstanding these precautions he managed to send several letters, meanwhile threatening the court that if they kept him any longer he would be forced to use such means of relief as he should be advised. after some delay his communications reached barbados, jamaica, and new york, from whence they at last reached king william, who soon got him released. but even then clifford could not get back his estate, and although he went to london and petitioned the king, who directed inquiry of the ambassador at the hague, he could never get any redress. for seventy years he, and his heirs after his death, kept up a stream of petitions and memorials, without result, in the end claiming for illegal detention, damages, and interest, over half a million pounds. during the short peace which followed the treaty of westminster attention was again directed to the buccaneers, who were now called pirates, and treated as such even in jamaica, with the result that many of them settled down. it has been stated that charles the second shared in their gains even after he had issued proclamations against them, but this sort of thing now came to an end. the french continued their depredations up to the year , when the king issued a proclamation, forbidding the further granting of commissions, and recalling those which had been issued, at the same time ordering that those who persisted in the trade should be hanged as pirates. this tended to bring the less audacious to settle down, but even to the beginning of the present century piracy was still known in the west indies. while sir henry morgan was acting governor of jamaica, in , everson, the dutch pirate, came to cow bay on that island, but morgan captured him and his crew and sent them off to carthagena, to be punished by the authorities there for the ravages they had committed on the spanish coasts and shipping. during the ex-buccaneer's administration he also got an act passed to restrain privateers, and keep inviolable all treaties with foreign states. any british subject who treated a foreign prince or state in a hostile manner should be punished with death as a felon. peace did not last long, however, for in the french began to move against holland, and the year following king william was also bound to declare war. almost immediately the english were again driven out of st. kitt's, the french, as on the former occasion, committing outrages quite unjustifiable among civilised nations even in war. they also took st. eustatius from the dutch. as if there were not enough pirates in the west indies, the french brought some more from their own coast--the celebrated corsairs, who had held a position in europe during the wars similar to that of the buccaneers in america. some rovers, who had lately settled in cayenne, were agreeably surprised at the beginning of the year by the arrival of du casse, who soon enrolled them under his banner and started to pillage the dutch and english colonies. the first attack was made upon surinam with nine vessels, but after three days' fighting the dutch obliged the corsairs to retire, leaving one ship aground to be captured. two of the squadron were, however, more successful in berbice, which, after the enemy had destroyed one or two plantations, was obliged to pay a ransom of twenty thousand guilders (£ , ), which was settled by a draft on the proprietors in amsterdam, and which curiously enough appears to have been afterwards paid. another privateer destroyed the small settlement in the pomeroon river, and obliged the few inhabitants to fly to essequebo, and to afterwards abandon the place altogether. du casse then went on to the islands, where he did much damage to both dutch and english, finally, in , spain being also on the other side, joining de pointis to attack and capture carthagena. the corsairs were privateers with proper commissions, authorised by the french government to pillage and destroy and divide the plunder among themselves after setting aside the king's share. up to the present france could hardly be said to have a navy, and these private adventurers to some extent filled its place. true, there were a few king's ships, but the treasury was often so bare that they could not be properly armed or manned without assistance from outside. then, perhaps, one or more would be put at the disposal of a renowned corsair, on condition that the state should be put to no expense. courtiers, ministers, and merchants would come forward and form a joint stock company, equip the ship or fleet as the case might be, and share the plunder. du casse settled down as governor of the french part of hispaniola, which by this time had been taken over, and he appears to have encouraged the buccaneers on account of their assistance to the colony. when that great corsair, jacques cassard came out, he was therefore enabled to supply him with as much help as he required. cassard, in , was supplied by the merchants of marseilles with a large fleet, with which he sailed to the west indies, beginning, as du casse had done, with surinam, where he arrived on the th of october, with eight large and thirty small vessels. the dutch were not so fortunate this time, for he sailed up and down the river for three weeks, burning, pillaging, and carrying off slaves, until most of the inhabitants took to the bush. among other exploits he is said to have broken open the jewish synagogue, killed a pig within the sacred precincts, and sprinkled its blood over the walls and ornaments. he was ultimately bought off for over £ , , which, in the absence of enough coin, was paid in sugar, negro and indian slaves, cattle, merchandise, provisions, stores, jewellery, and a very little cash. while remaining in surinam cassard sent three vessels to berbice, which was easily captured, and for which a ransom of three hundred thousand guilders (£ , ) was demanded. but this settlement was far worse off than surinam, and had neither goods nor money to pay such a large amount, which was out of all proportion to that of her neighbour. after raising , guilders in various ways, the balance was accepted in a bill of exchange on the proprietors, two of the leading planters of the colony being taken as hostages and security. not satisfied with this, the corsairs insisted on a further sum of ten thousand guilders in cash, as ransom for the private estates, on the ground that they had been paid only for the fort and properties of the government. there was not so much money in the whole river, and after collecting every bit of plate and jewellery they possessed, to the value of six thousand guilders, the enemy had to take the balance in sugar and stores. now came the most curious part of this transaction. the two hostages died, and the proprietors refused to pay the draft--in fact, they said berbice was not worth so much. nevertheless the colony could not be taken over as a french possession, and even when the peace of utrecht was signed in , nothing could be done. here was an anomaly--a dutch settlement in the hands of french merchants as security for a debt. on account of trade restrictions its produce might not be brought to france, and the owners of the draft neither knew what to do with the document nor its security. the dutch proprietors were equally at a loss, for they knew very well that, if they ignored the claim of the corsairs, revenge would be taken on the first opportunity--during the next war, if not before. at last one of the marseilles merchants was deputed to go to amsterdam, and after a great deal of haggling he sold the draft to a third party at a reduction of about forty per cent. meanwhile cassard had captured st. eustatius, and exacted a large ransom. from thence he resolved to proceed to curaçao, the great stronghold of the dutch, and the depôt for goods used in the contraband traffic with the spanish colonies. here there were many jews, who had large stocks of merchandise, and as the booty would be certainly great, cassard resolved to risk everything on such an exploit. on his arrival he sent a boat ashore with a demand for the surrender of the island, to which the governor sent a jeering reply, as he considered the place impregnable. however, the corsair fleet stood in for the harbour, but were greeted with such a heavy fire that cassard was forced to retire and call a council. the balance of opinion was against going any farther. the officers said the dutch guns were of heavier metal than theirs, the currents round the island rendered a landing almost impossible, and the entrance to the harbour was so narrow that it could easily be commanded by the two forts. however, cassard himself and a few others were in favour of the attempt, and it was ultimately resolved to carry it out on the morrow. to deceive the dutch, cassard sent part of his fleet on a cruise round the island, while he with the remainder commenced to bombard the forts, keeping this up during the day as if that were his line of attack. the following night, however, he embarked most of his men in small craft, and keeping the lights on his ships burning, managed to land under cover of the darkness. fortunately for him, this manoeuvre was not perceived by the dutch, for he had quite enough to do in contending with a strong current and in avoiding sunken rocks, which made the landing so perilous that it is doubtful if even these hardy fellows would have attempted it during the day, when the dangers would be conspicuous. however, they got ashore without serious accident, and at once erected a breastwork for the light guns they had brought. morning broke, and cassard expected to see the second half of the squadron returned from its cruise, and ready to support him, instead of which it was visible several miles to leeward. to add to his difficulties, the dutch had discovered the landing, had erected a powerful battery a mile away, and were preparing to attack him before his reinforcements could come up. yet in face of all this he was undaunted. he must, however, attack at once, and this was done, with the result that the forts were taken. cassard was wounded by a musket ball in the foot, yet he did not relinquish the command, but followed this first success by turning the guns of the forts on the town. at the same time he sent a flag of truce to the governor, declaring, that if the place were not at once surrendered at discretion he would bombard it. in reply, the dutch attacked the forts, but were repulsed with great loss, and at last terms were discussed, with the result that the ransom was fixed at , louis d'ors. this amount was considered so reasonable that the merchants hastened to pay it over and get rid of him, which they did in three days. on his arrival in martinique, cassard found he had been superseded in the command, and that the fleet was ordered home. giving the buccaneers their share of the booty, he sailed for brest, and on the way met an english squadron. the french admiral signalled his vessels not to fight, but cassard, turning to his second in command of the vessel, said his duty to his king was above that to his admiral--he would fight his majesty's foes wherever he met them. on that he bore down upon the english and captured two small craft before nightfall, afterwards making his voyage to brest alone. this want of subordination so incensed the admiral that he preferred several charges against him, one being that he had retained more than his share of the booty. whether this charge was true or not, the "hero of nantes," as he was called, fell into disgrace, followed by great poverty. almost a beggar, he was at last sent to prison for importuning a cardinal and king's minister too much, by claiming what he considered his rights. there he ultimately died, and, like some others who have been as badly treated in life, has now a statue erected to his memory in his native town. [illustration] [illustration] ix. the struggle for the darien trade. carthagena and porto bello were the great trading stations for the spaniards in the indies. the latter had taken the place of nombre de dios, since that town had been destroyed by drake, and was now the port to which the treasures of peru were brought overland from panama. the galleons from spain, after calling at st. domingo, went on to carthagena, where the first great fair of the year was held. here the traders from the inland provinces of new granada came to get their supplies from europe, which they paid for in gold, silver, emeralds, and produce. for the short time the vessels remained, the people of the town woke up from their year's inactivity, and made the most of the occasion. stores were in demand, and lodging-houses required for the visitors, so that the cost of living went up by leaps and bounds. those who had slaves got enormous profits by their hire, and even the negroes themselves made large sums beyond the amounts they had to pay their masters. the whole place lost its air of desertion and became the scene of such bustle and confusion as would hardly be conceivable to those who saw it as a "sleepy hollow" during the _tiempo muerto_, the dead time, as it was called. having done with carthagena, the galleons went on to porto bello, the beautiful haven, said to have been the most unhealthy place on the main. by reason of its noxious air and barren soil there was a scarcity of provisions, which led to its desertion at ordinary times. in anticipation of the fleet, however, it woke up and became even more lively than carthagena. the only reason for its existence was the trade across the isthmus, otherwise it would have been deservedly abandoned. here was held the great fair, that at the other port being petty in comparison. the concourse of people was so great that a single chamber for a lodging during the busy time sometimes cost a thousand crowns, while a house would be worth five or six times as much. as the galleons came in sight, the people began to erect a great tent in the _plaza_ to receive their cargoes, where they were assorted and delivered to the various consignees or their representatives. the crowd of men and animals soon became so great that movement was difficult. droves of mules came over the isthmus loaded with cases of gold and silver, which were dumped down in the open streets or in the square, for want of storehouses. yet, with all the confusion, it is said that theft was unknown, and losses through mistakes very rare. but not only were there thousands of mules and their drivers, but small vessels continually arrived from different parts of the coast, bringing goods and people, to increase the hubbub. here was a cargo of cinchona bark, there another of cacao, and further on, by no means the least important, were boat-loads of fresh vegetables and fruits to supply the great assembly. this went on for forty days, after which the port was deserted and the town resumed its poverty-stricken air. then two persons in the streets formed a crowd and half a dozen a mob. solitude and silence reigned, where so lately the bustle and noise had been rampant, and the _tiempo muerto_ ruled until the following year. it can be easily understood that the influence of the porto bello fair was not only felt on the gulf side, but on the shores of the pacific as well. panama was largely dependent on the transport business, which employed a great number of mules and slaves. even in the absence of buccaneers and pirates the road was always difficult, and sometimes even dangerous. heavy rains caused great floods, which delayed the traffic for days, and left the tracks on the hills so slippery that even that sure-footed animal the mule was often carried over a precipice. then there were cannibal indians and simarons always lurking in the forest, ready to cut off stragglers. on the rumour of a buccaneer landing on the coast--it might be a hundred miles away--the traffic was at once stopped and the merchants began to "fear and sweat with a cold sweat," as thomas gage very quaintly puts it. the spanish merchants no doubt deplored this state of things, and would have been thankful for a good road instead of such an unutterably worthless bridle track. there was, however, a side to the question which probably influenced them--a way that would be easy for them would also be more accessible to their enemies. then, again, a good road should have been the work of the spanish government rather than of the settlers, but it was useless to expect anything from that direction. nevertheless, a good road and even a canal were mooted before the end of the sixteenth century, thus anticipating the panama railroad and canal of our own time. but, although the advantages were patent, the difficulties were so many as to be practically insurmountable, and nothing whatever was done. towards the end of the seventeenth century came a sudden craze for carrying out gigantic schemes of various kinds, practicable or impracticable, useful or worthless, utopian or utterly absurd. among them was the mississippi scheme in france and the south sea bubble in england, of which the latter was intimately connected with the indies. the time had arrived when people began to think of trading on credit or pledges, and of combining together for carrying on banks and other commercial operations. private banks had existed for several centuries, and more or less public establishments in the great commercial centres, such as venice, amsterdam, and hamburg, but up to the present there was no bank of england. in fact the great principle that allows an enormous trade to be carried on without the actual interchange of specie or commodities had just been discovered, and the people of france and england went mad over it. the pioneer of the system in england was william paterson, who seems to have been acquainted with dampier and wafer, both of whom knew the isthmus of darien very well. he is also said to have travelled in the west indies himself, and even to have visited the porto bello fair, but this is not quite certain. paterson first came into prominence by bringing forward a scheme which ultimately led to the establishment of the bank of england on the th of july, . from this he appears to have derived no actual benefit, however, although he was one of the first directors, upon a qualification of £ , stock, which he sold out after the first year, and thus withdrew. probably he wanted his money to carry out the new project for a settlement on the isthmus of darien. in the course of this history we have advisedly used the word "english" instead of "british," in speaking of our nation, because as yet scotchmen were little concerned in colonisation schemes. in fact, except as transported rebels or convicts, they had hardly any interest in the plantations. this was the result of navigation acts, which debarred scotch merchants and vessels from trading, by ordering that all traffic with the colonies should be carried on in english vessels and from english ports. paterson's idea was to take possession of the isthmus of darien, establish a scotch colony at a convenient harbour on the gulf side, and then open up a proper road by which the trade would be so much facilitated that it would become the great highway. seated between the two vast oceans of the universe, he said, the isthmus is provided with excellent harbours on both sides, between the principal of which lie the more easy and convenient passes. if these ports and passes were fortified, the road could easily be secured and defended, thus affording the readiest and nearest means of gaining and keeping the command of the south sea--the greatest and by far the richest side of the world. with the passes open, through them would flow at least two-thirds of the produce of both indies. the time and expense of the voyage to china and japan would be lessened more than half, and the consumption of european commodities soon doubled, and annually increased. he contended that darien possessed great tracts of country up to that time unclaimed by any european, and that the indians, the original proprietors, would welcome the honest and honourable settler to their fertile shore. the soil was rich to a fault, producing spontaneously the most delicious fruits, and required the hand of labour to chasten rather than stimulate its capabilities. there crystal rivers sparkled over sands of gold--there the traveller might wander for days under a canopy of fruit-laden branches, the trees bearing them being of inestimable value as timber. the waters also abounded in wealth. innumerable shoals of fish disported themselves among the rocks, and the bottom was strewn with pearls. from the dawn of creation this enchanted country had lain secluded from mortals--now it was revealed and opened to scottish enterprise. let them enter and take possession of this promised land, and build a new city--a new edinburgh, like alexandria of old, which grew to prodigious wealth and power from its position on another isthmus--to soon become famous as the new emporium of a new world. the reader who has seen our account of lionel wafer's miserable journey will be able to discount these florid statements, but the scotch people seem to have taken everything for gospel. now, at last, they would have a colony--a plantation of more value than any of those that the english had begun to boast of. they were enthusiastic, and although poor, did their very best to contribute, actually promising the large sum of £ , . england also subscribed to the extent of £ , , and holland and hamburg £ , . everything looked bright, and at last a concession was obtained for the "company of scotland, trading to africa and the indies." strange to say, paterson entirely ignored the claims of spain, although he must have known that she would strenuously object to such a settlement. it was all very well to say the place belonged to the indians, but the very fact of its vicinity to the great trading centre and channel of communication with the pacific coast should have made him anticipate trouble. even if he argued that the buccaneers were practically unmolested along the mosquito shore, he must also have known that their position was by no means secure, and even had this been the case, that it would have afforded to argument in favour of his project. to be successful he must also have had the support of the english government, but unfortunately this was denied. jealousy and envy between the two countries led to representations adverse to the scheme being made to king william, with the result that the company was discountenanced, and that most of the promised subscriptions outside of scotland were withdrawn. then came dissensions among the leaders themselves, and this lost them half the amount from their own county. yet with all that paterson was undaunted, and, notwithstanding the diminished funds at command, he still resolved to go on. on the th of july, , twelve hundred men in five ships sailed for a place near the entrance of the gulf of darien, a hundred miles to the east of porto bello. it was afterwards stated that the vessels were rotten and ill-found, although gaily decked with flags on the day of departure, which hid some of their deficiencies. the provision supply was bad, and, to crown all, the captains were coarse, brutal, and ignorant, continually quarrelling with each other. through envy, paterson had been prevented from having any voice in the arrangements, and although he went with the expedition, he entered the ship as ignorant of her equipment as any other passenger. but he evidently had his doubts, for he asked for an inspection of the stores, only to have his request treated with contempt. on the th of october the fleet came to anchor in a fair sandy bay three leagues west of the gulf of darien, now known as the port d'escocés. it was an excellent harbour surrounded by high mountains, and capable of holding a thousand sail in security from wind and tempest. the settlers named the district caledonia, and considered it to be fertile and even healthy. they commenced at once to erect a fort, to which they gave the name of st. andrews, and a cluster of houses for the town of new edinburgh. these labours gave them little time for planting, and it naturally followed that they had to live on the provisions brought from scotland, which, bad at the beginning, were now almost worthless. paterson sent emissaries to the neighbouring spanish settlements to ask for their friendship, and went himself into the interior to arrange treaties with the indians, so that the scotch might have a good title to the land. in this latter object he was successful, and it was agreed that peace should be kept between the natives and the colonists, "as long as rivers ran and gold was found in darien." after six days' absence he returned to find a great change in the settlement. a spirit of mutiny and discontent had broken out, those who worked hard being naturally dissatisfied with others who did nothing. then the provisions became rotten, and even then were so reduced in quantity that the people suffered from want and its consequent sickness. four months passed, and nothing but daily discouragements were encountered; not even a little gold to enliven their spirits. hard work under a tropical sun began to tell upon them, and although the friendly natives brought a little game, it was almost useless among so many. every day, however, the number was reduced by death, fevers, and dysentery playing sad havoc, until those who remained were utterly dispirited. to add to their troubles they were refused supplies from jamaica, king william having sent instructions to the colonial governors to discountenance the colony in every way. paterson sent to jamaica to get food for the starving people, and instead, his empty vessel brought copies of the proclamation that had been issued in that island. this stated that as his majesty knew nothing of the intentions and designs of the scots at darien, and as their settling on the isthmus was contrary to the peace of spain, every one was commanded not to hold any communication with them, and not to supply arms, ammunition, provisions, or anything whatsoever, on their peril. in this desperate condition they awaited supplies from scotland, but these did not arrive, for the ship had foundered on her way, and even paterson began to be discouraged when day after day passed without relief. even the reduced number could no longer exist, and with heavy hearts they prepared to leave. they had a ship, but no provisions for the voyage, and on account of the prohibition were prevented from victualling at one of the islands. at last, however, they got together as much barbecued fish and game as the indians could procure, with a few fruits, and sailed away. but even now fate was against them. hardly had they got out of the harbour before they were becalmed off this deadly shore for many days, their scanty supply of food diminishing when it was so much wanted for the long voyage. however, the remnant of about thirty, survivors of the twelve hundred, at last arrived at charlestown, carolina, in a most miserable condition. paterson was himself so worn out that he lost his senses for a time, becoming quite childish, yet he recovered, to go back to scotland and ask the company for another expedition. this he urged on the ground that the first had failed simply through the want of supplies and the action of the english government. some were in favour of still carrying out the project, and these drew up a petition to the king, giving it for presentation to lord hamilton. william the third, however, refused not only to receive the petition, but even to grant an audience to its bearer. lord hamilton would not be put off, however, but watched for his opportunity, and found it one day as the king was mounting his horse. he laid the petition on the saddle, which made his majesty cry out, "now, by heaven, this young man is too bold," adding in a softer tone, "if a man can be too bold in the service of his country." with that he threw the document from him and rode off, afterwards, when memorial after memorial came from scotland, issuing a proclamation against the worry of such petitions. notwithstanding this refusal, another expedition was sent out, the management of which was as bad as that of the first. but this time the spaniards were on the alert, and hardly had the settlers begun to put things in order before the enemy was upon them in force. famine and sickness again fell upon new edinburgh, added to the horrors of a siege, which ultimately led to a capitulation on fair terms. but so weak were they as the spaniards allowed them to embark, that their late enemies out of pity helped to heave their anchors and set their sails. it was long before the scotch people forgot or forgave their sister kingdom for her action in thus frustrating their darling project. besides impeding the union, it is said to have strengthened the jacobite feelings in the rebellions of and . even as late as the year , when it was proposed to erect a monument in edinburgh to king william the third and the "glorious revolution," the affair was remembered, and some one suggested that the pedestal should have on the one side a view of glencoe, and on the other the darien colony. queen anne, in , tried to pacify her scotch subjects by an autograph letter, stating that she regretted the company's losses and disappointments, but this did not kill the ill-feeling. as for paterson, in the english house of commons voted him the sum of £ , as some indemnity for his losses, but as the bill was thrown out by the house of lords, he got nothing. thus ended one of the most disastrous of british attempts to colonise the indies. from beginning to end it was an example of the dutch caution of william of orange, as contrasted with the recklessness of queen elizabeth's time or the sturdy defiance of cromwell. the king was not prepared to risk war for an idea, yet at the same time he would not prohibit the expeditions. from to there was war between england and holland on the one side, and france and spain on the other. by the treaty of utrecht, which again brought peace, the english received the concession for the exclusive supply of negro slaves to the spanish colonies for thirty years. this _assiento_ contract was given to the great south sea company, which resulted from one of those joint-stock manias, now epidemic in france, england, and even holland. the company was projected by the earl of oxford in , and, like the mississippi scheme in france, was intended to assist the government, which was virtually bankrupt. as yet there was no funded national debt, but large sums were owing to the army and navy, which had been provisionally settled by debentures, that could be discounted only at a serious loss to the owners. down to the establishment of the bank of england in no public loan existed, but this was commenced by borrowing the capital of that institution. at the peace of ryswick, in , the public debt amounted to twenty millions, but by the time the south sea company was started the arrears of pay made it half as much again. part of the great scheme was to advance this amount on security of english customs duties amounting to £ , per annum, and a monopoly of the spanish trade in the indies as far as the _assiento_ contract would permit. whether the whole affair was a fraud from the commencement is doubtful; there were certainly misrepresentations in the prospectus, either wilful or possibly in good faith. spain was to allow free trade to england in four ports on the pacific, and three vessels besides slavers were to go to the isthmus every year--concessions never promised nor intended by philip the fifth. the slave trade was a fact, and according to the statements it would give fabulous profits. [illustration: map of terra firma. (_from gottfried's "reisen."_)] visions of boundless wealth now floated before the eyes of the english people, and they at once began to rival the french in their madness, as they had in their colonisation. the english government was ready to make every possible concession because it wanted to be rid of the incubus of thirty millions, and therefore did nothing to check the company. as the stock was issued it was at once bought up, and then sold again at a considerable advance. everybody expected to make fortunes, therefore they must get shares at any price. rumours of peace with spain, and great concessions that would bring all the riches of peru and mexico into their coffers, roused them still more. gold would soon be as plentiful as copper, and silver as iron. the shareholders would be the richest people the world ever saw, and every share would give dividends of hundreds per cent. per annum. the bill making the government concessions was passed in april, , when the stock was quoted at £ for a hundred pound share. strange to say, it then began to fall, but the projectors put forth a rumour that england was about to exchange gibraltar for a port in peru, and confidence was restored at once. so great was the increased demand that another million was issued at £ per £ share, and these were so much run after that the fortunate owners were at once offered double what they had paid. then another million was offered at £ , and in a few hours applications were received for a million and a half. people were so eager to invest their money that they swallowed almost any bait thrown to them. hundreds of bubble companies hovered on the outskirts of the parent, among them one for settling the barren islands of blanco and sal tortugas, another to colonise santa cruz, and a third to fit out vessels for the suppression of piracy. but perhaps the most absurd was "a company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is." near their highest point the south sea shares were sold at £ , but so many wanted to sell at that price that they soon fell to £ . this put the directors again upon their mettle, and they set to work with fresh rumours and pushed them up to £ , , from which they suddenly went down, with a few fluctuations, until utterly worthless. the treasurer of the company ran away to france when the blow fell, but the directors were arrested and their estates ultimately confiscated. thousands of people were ruined, and the public credit received a blow from which it took many years to recover. meanwhile the south sea company had not been altogether idle. besides the slave vessels they were entitled to send _one_ ship annually to the carthagena and porto bello fairs, this being called the _navio de permisso_. it was not to be larger than five hundred tons, yet the company picked out the biggest they could find and filled it with goods, to the exclusion of food and water, which were carried in small store vessels that waited outside the harbour. this caused a great deal of dissatisfaction, as the english brought so much that they could under-sell the spanish merchants in their own market. in the _bedford_, nominally of six hundred tons, was seized at carthagena on the ground that her burden was excessive. by the spanish measurements the cargo was said to have amounted to , - / tons, and the excess was confiscated and ordered to be sold. however, the english protested, at the same time passing over some valuable presents to the authorities, with the result that a remeasurement was ordered, which made the amount only tons. in the spaniards took campeachy and sixty english logwood vessels, which occasioned another war. the english claimed that they had an undoubted right to cut logwood at that place, and that former kings had always maintained them in this. for a long time they had quietly possessed a part of yucatan, uninhabited by spaniards, and they claimed not only the privilege of wood-cutting, but of settlement as well. probably the little notice taken of their attack on the darien colony made the spanish authorities think england ready to bear any insult, but they soon found out their mistake. war was declared in , and all the property of the south sea company, including debts, was confiscated, the whole amounting to £ , . this would have been a great blow to the company had it been genuine, but as we have seen, its mercantile transactions were secondary considerations. peace was restored by the treaty of madrid in june , when the _assiento_ contract was renewed in favour of the royal company instead of that of the south sea. so much dissatisfaction had been created by the concession for a trading ship, however, that the english did not insist upon its continuance, and therefore only slave vessels were to be permitted to visit the indies in future. everything that had been seized from the south sea company was to be restored, or its equivalent value paid, but the amount actually received only came to £ , , which did not go far to help the unfortunate shareholders. thus, this small measure of free trade with the spanish indies came to an end, and things went on much the same as before. english, dutch, and french vessels still carried on the contraband traffic, doing all they could to evade the law, often with the assistance of the local authorities. the spanish settlers got their supplies so much cheaper in this way than through the usual channels, that they were not likely to give up buying as long as the smugglers ran the risk. at last, however, the authorities received very strict orders to enforce the law, with the result that vessels were often captured, their cargoes confiscated, and crews imprisoned. then the spanish _guarda-costas_ claimed the right to search vessels of other nationalities, and to confiscate them if they found produce from their colonies on board, or other evidence that they were carrying on illicit trade. this led to another dispute with england, which claimed compensation for such seizures and the abolition of the right of search. english vessels had always resented this overhauling, and latterly several had fought the _guarda-costas_ rather than submit, with the result that, when captured, their crews were treated with a severity often amounting to cruelty. in several petitions were presented to the british parliament, complaining of such outrages, and asking the government to obtain redress. among them was one from captain jenkins, the master of a scottish vessel, who was examined by the house. his story was that he had been boarded by a _guarda-costa_, the spaniards from which searched his vessel without finding anything contraband. apparently enraged at their discomfiture, and possibly annoyed by the jeers of the english, they cut off one of jenkins' ears and told him to carry it to his king with the message that they would do the same to him if he came near the main. finally, according to jenkins' statement, he was further tortured and threatened with death. "what did you think when you found yourself in the hands of those barbarians?" asked a member of the house; to which the captain replied, "i recommended my soul to god and my cause to my country." the severed ear he exhibited in parliament as he had done elsewhere whenever he told the story. it was then stated that the losses from spanish depredations by plundering and the taking of fifty-two vessels, since , amounted to £ , . in every case the masters and crews were brutally treated, and in some cases murdered. the english demand for compensation was met by the reply that the king had ordered inquiries to be made, and that if any of his subjects were found guilty they would be punished according to their deserts; also that orders would be given to conform exactly to the treaties. it was, however, claimed that the treaty of did not contain any clause bearing on the navigation and commerce of the indies, and that the english had been wrong in supposing they had a right to sail and trade there; they were only permitted to sail to their own islands and plantations, and were therefore subject to confiscation if they changed their course to make for the spanish possessions without necessity. there were then in havana fifteen british vessels which had been detained on one pretext or another, and about the same time the _success_ from london to virginia was captured off montserrat, and her captain and crew set adrift in an open boat to find their way ashore as best they could. in january, , a convention between great britain and spain was arranged, under which the latter agreed to pay £ , on account of these demands, less the value of certain vessels which they agreed to restore. this did not satisfy the west india merchants, and they petitioned against it. the indemnity was to be paid on the th of july, but that date having passed without a settlement, great britain issued letters of marque and ordered all spanish vessels in her waters to be seized. spain commenced reprisals the following month, and war was actually declared by great britain on the th of october. the declaration stated that for several years past unjust seizures and depredations had been carried on, and great cruelties exercised. the british colours had been ignominiously insulted, against the laws of nations and solemn treaties, and spain had lately ordered british subjects from her dominions within a shorter period than had been covenanted by express stipulation in those treaties. in july previous a fleet under admiral vernon had sailed from spithead, and after a short cruise off the spanish coast, went over to the west indies, arriving at antigua the th of september. going on to jamaica, vernon prepared for a grand raid on the spanish settlements, leaving for porto bello on the th of november with six vessels and , men. they arrived on the st, and bombarded the forts, which made a stout resistance; but while this was going on, the british landed and took the town, thus compelling the forts to capitulate. two warships and several other vessels were captured, as well as specie to the amount of ten thousand dollars, but the town was not pillaged, although the guns were either taken away or rendered useless, and the forts as far as possible demolished. this was virtually the end of that stronghold, as it was afterwards allowed to fall into decay, to be ultimately replaced by chagres, grey town, and colon. later, also, the treasure from peru had much diminished, and the isthmus sunk in importance, especially after the way round cape horn and through the straits of magellan was adopted more and more. as the dispute with spain had arisen from her action in the indies, so retaliation on the part of great britain was greatest on the main. in february, , vernon again sailed from jamaica, and on the th of march bombarded santa martha, but did not capture it. after repairing damages at porto bello he went on to chagres, took a spanish man-of-war from under the guns of the fort, captured the place, and demolished it. in january, , sir chaloner ogle came out from england with a fleet, and joined him, making a force of , men in twenty-nine sail-of-the-line besides smaller vessels. this great fleet sailed for hispaniola in hopes of encountering that of spain and france, but not finding it went on to carthagena. this, the other great stronghold on the main, was guarded by two powerful batteries, a boom across the entrance to the port, and four spanish men-of-war just inside. after a long cannonading the batteries were silenced, a landing accomplished at night, and a passage made by which the fleet entered the harbour. here, however, further progress was checked by sickness and disagreements among the commanders, with the result that the siege was raised and partial success ended in miserable failure. this was followed by another check at santiago de cuba, which virtually terminated all hopes of further great exploits, although attempts were made on la guayra and puerto cabello. yet with all this the spaniards undoubtedly received a great lesson. their men-of-war were captured from under their fortresses, and small english or colonial vessels performed such deeds of daring as had hardly been equalled since the elizabethan age. the old spirit still existed although it might lie dormant for a time--the men were there when the hour came. in captain hall in a new england privateer came to an anchor under the fort of puerto de la plata, pretending to be a caracas trader. he wanted to land in the night and surprise the town, but found that the inhabitants kept such a good watch that he had to give up that idea. however, the governor was sick and sent to ask the loan of hall's surgeon, and here was the opportunity he wanted. the surgeon, quartermaster, and an interpreter visited the governor, and at the same time seven of hall's crew landed and surprised the fort, dismounted the guns, marched into the town and plundered it, finally escaping with the loss of only one man. peace was at last concluded on the th of october, , but nothing was said in the treaty of the right of search. the _assiento_ contract was confirmed, and one english trading ship allowed as formerly; free trade with the indies, however, was still one of those things which could never be conceded. [illustration] [illustration] x. slave insurrections and bush negroes. with war almost continuously raging at their very doors the west indian planters not only risked their fortunes but their lives. during the seventeenth century england spent something like thirty-five years in fighting her enemies, and in the eighteenth, forty-six. as long as the quarrel was with spain alone the colonists cared but little, but when france turned against them the struggle was much fiercer. the french were always most audacious in their assaults, and the consequences were all the more disastrous because they were such near neighbours. we have already spoken of st. kitt's and the difficulties produced on that island by its division between the two nationalities. these were only terminated by its entire cession to england, which did not take place until the peace of utrecht in . meanwhile, besides the two defeats of the english already mentioned, they were driven out in , to return the following year and expel the enemy, retaining entire control until the peace of ryswick gave france again her share. then in england once more held full possession until the island was assured to her entirely. barbados, alone among the british west indian islands, stands in the proud position of a colony that has never fallen into the hands of another nation. it has never even been seriously attacked beyond the attempt of de ruyter. and yet the island was poorly fortified, as compared with the great strongholds of the west indies such as carthagena and curaçao. possibly "the game was not worth the candle," for on the one hand there was little plunder to be had, and on the other a strong force of hardy englishmen to be encountered. we have seen already how the parliamentary fleet was kept at bay, and what an amount of trouble the islanders gave before they capitulated. even then they were not actually conquered, although there could be no question as to the ultimate result. but not only had the colonists to stand up against the enemy from outside, but there was another danger which lay within their plantations and dwellings from which even barbados was not free. the slaves had to be kept under subjection, and the planters must always be on the alert to anticipate riots and insurrections. for although the negro in most cases was submissive, at times he recovered that savage nature which had only been suppressed by force and discipline. when we read of flogging to death and other horrible cruelties of the planters and authorities, we are inclined to sympathise with the african and look upon his masters as worse than brutes. but to appreciate the full significance of these punishments we must judge them by the codes in existence at the time, remembering that nothing was ever done to the blacks that had not also been endured by whites for similar crimes. true, these punishments were retained for slaves after they had become obsolete for europeans, but then the negro was undoubtedly stubborn and less amenable to persuasion than any other race. like a mule he had to be broken in and trained, and like that stubborn animal he often gave great trouble in the process. there were differences of opinion as to various ways of teaching the negro, and it was only a long experience that ultimately led to gentle conciliation instead of flogging. [illustration: a rebel negro (_from stedman's "surinam."_)] the slaves often ran away, and had to be hunted for and brought back. in the larger islands and on the main they hid in the forest and swamp, where they formed communities, to which other runaways flocked until they became strong enough to hold their own. from these recesses they often came forth to pillage the plantations, murder the whites, and get the slaves to go off with them in a body. if the buccaneer was ferocious he had at least some method in his madness; the poor ignorant african, on the contrary, let his passions dominate him entirely. in revenge for fancied tyrannies he would commit the most atrocious crimes, torturing his prisoners by cutting them to pieces or even flaying while they still lived. is it any wonder that when caught the bush negro or maroon was severely punished, and that the utmost rigour of the law was exercised? as for flogging, every one knows how common that was at the beginning of the present century. some of us can even look back to a time when the use of the rod and whip on delicate children was a matter of course. even fine ladies took their little ones to see executions that now horrify us to think of; in a similar way the planter's wife stood at her window to see the punishment of her house-servant. we could tell of negroes burnt to death, where a downpour of rain put out the fires and left them to linger in torment for hours, of taking pieces of flesh from the unhappy criminals with red-hot pincers, and, most horrible of all, breaking on the wheel. these punishments often took place in the middle of a town, but only on one occasion have we seen any mention of the horror of the scene, and this referred to the smell of burning flesh. yet the criminals--for it must be remembered that they had been legally convicted and sentenced--showed a stoical indifference to pain almost incredible. as savages they gloried in showing their ability to endure torture, only craving sometimes for a pipe of tobacco to hold between their teeth until it fell. [illustration: the execution of breaking on the rack. (_from stedman's "surinam."_)] the maroons or bush negroes began to form communities on the main and in the larger islands from very early times. in jamaica they were the remnant of the spanish slaves who ran away on the arrival of the english, with accessions from deserters at later periods; in surinam some of those who had been sent into the forest to prevent their capture by french corsairs. in both places they maintained their independence, and ultimately made treaties with the colonial authorities, greatly to their own advantage. in essequebo and demerara they were kept down by subsidising arawak indian trackers, who hunted them from savannah to forest, and from forest to swamp, killing and capturing them almost as fast as they ran away. in the smaller and more settled islands the runaways were generally recaptured at once and severely punished as a warning to others. there the more daring plotted insurrections which often caused much trouble for a few days until suppressed. they did not last long, for the negroes were wanting in the power of combination, because they all wanted to be leaders. then there was generally some faithful slave or white man's mistress to give the warning, which sometimes caused such prompt action that the outbreak did not occur at all. yet with all that the danger was serious, and one that could hardly be coped with by forts and batteries. as early as the year a plot for a general rising in barbados was discovered through the information of a bond-servant. all the whites were to have been murdered, but fortunately the ringleaders were arrested before the time fixed and eight of them condemned to death. then in , under the leadership of a coromantee, it was arranged that on a certain fixed day, at a signal to be given by blowing shells, all the cane-fields should be set on fire, the white men killed, and their women retained by the negroes as their wives. this also was frustrated by information received from a house negress. hearing two men talking of the matter, she made inquiries, and learnt of the plot in time to inform her master. six of the prisoners were burnt alive and eleven beheaded, while five committed suicide by hanging themselves before the trial. the story was told in a pamphlet entitled, "great newes from the barbados, or a true and faithful account of the great conspiracy." yet again in , after a fearful epidemic had much reduced the number of the whites, a third conspiracy was set on foot. the governor was to have been killed, the magazine seized, and the forts surprised and taken. when the plot was nearly ripe two of the leaders were overheard conversing about it and instantly arrested. they were hung in chains for four days without food or drink, promises of pardon being made if they revealed their accomplices, which they did at the end of that time, with the result that some were executed and others cruelly tortured. we might go on to tell also of the abortive insurrection of and several others, but as there were never any very serious risings in barbados, we must proceed to other colonies. in jamaica several abortive attempts at general insurrections were made, some of them assisted by the maroons, who continually received accessions to their numbers from desertion. these people also made incursions on their own account, which led the government to offer £ a head for every one killed, the reward being payable on the production of his ears. in they destroyed several plantations and killed a hundred and fifty white men, which led to an attempt at suppressing them altogether. captain stoddart therefore took a detachment of soldiers into the mountains to the maroon town of nanny. arriving at night he planted a battery of swivel guns on a height that commanded the collection of huts, before the negroes were aware of his coming. they were rudely awakened from their sleep to find the place surrounded, and in alarm many flung themselves over precipices in their hurry to escape. some were killed, a few captured, and the town utterly destroyed. about the same time a party of maroons from another place were so bold as to attack the barracks at spanish town. two years later, under captain cudjo, the maroons became so formidable that two regiments of regular troops besides the island militia were employed to reduce them. the assembly also ordered a line of block-houses or posts to be erected as near as possible to their haunts, at which packs of dogs were to be kept as part of the garrison. then they sent to the main for two hundred mosquito indians whom they engaged as trackers. this brought matters to a crisis, and captain cudjo was compelled to sue for peace, which was granted. a treaty was therefore made with them in at trelawny town, by which they were to be considered as free on condition that they captured runaway slaves, assisted in repelling invasions, and allowed two white residents to remain in their towns. thus peace was restored for a time, and the mosquito indians were allowed to go back to their country. however, jamaica was not to be free from slave insurrections apart from the maroons, for in may, , at st. mary's, the slaves of general forrest's plantation fell suddenly upon the overseer while he was at supper with some friends, and massacred the whole company. they were immediately joined by others, and commenced a career of plundering and burning all the plantations in the neighbourhood. business in the island was at once suspended, martial law proclaimed, and every white man called out to assist in putting down the revolt. the negroes, however, tried to avoid an open conflict, trusting to hide in the forest, where, however, a large body was discovered and defeated. the maroons had been sent for, but did not arrive until this action had taken place, when they were sent in pursuit of the flying rebels. this they pretended to do, and in a few days returned with a collection of ears which they said had been taken from those whom they had slain, and for which they were paid. the story was found out afterwards to have been a falsehood, as instead of pursuing the fugitives they had simply cut off the ears of those who had been slain before they arrived. this led the authorities to think the maroons in league with the revolted slaves and afterwards to look upon them with distrust. however, by the aid of a body of free negroes, the rebels were at last captured, to be punished in the cruel manner so characteristic of the time. some were burnt, some hung alive on gibbets, and about six hundred transported to the bay of honduras. two were hung alive on the parade at kingston, one to linger for seven days and the other for nine, during which time it was said "they behaved with a degree of hardened insolence and brutal insensibility." in the course of the whole insurrection about sixty whites and four hundred negroes were killed, and damage done to the amount of one hundred thousand pounds. in a slave revolt took place at antigua, or rather it was discovered and anticipated. five negroes were broken on the wheel, six hung in chains and starved to death, one of whom lived for nine days and eight nights, fifty-eight were burnt at the stake, and about a hundred and thirty imprisoned. these horrible punishments were intended as a warning to the others, and no doubt they had such an effect on that generation. few of the early insurrections met with any success, notwithstanding that the negroes largely outnumbered the whites in every colony. at the most the blacks had a few days' liberty to murder, burn, and pillage, after which came the terrible retribution. there was, however, one conspicuous exception: poor berbice was actually taken over, and every white man driven from the plantations. the dutch were noted nigger drivers, and although the english were unable to boast much of their humanity, they stigmatised the hollander as a cruel master. if a negro was obstinate, the englishman threatened to sell him to a dutchman or jew, but the worst threat of all was to give him to a free negro. whether this bad character was deserved or not is doubtful, but it is quite certain that the criminal law of the netherlands permitted "the question" when a prisoner would not admit his guilt. this, however, was applicable to white as well as black, there being no particular slave code in the dutch colonies. what was the immediate cause of the great rising of , in berbice, was never exactly ascertained, but vague complaints were made of ill-treatment by certain planters. it commenced on the th of february, on an estate in the river canje, and from thence spread like wildfire over the whole colony. the population consisted of, besides the free indians, whites, indian slaves, and about , negro slaves. the garrison was supposed to consist of sixty soldiers besides officers, distributed at several forts and posts, but owing to sickness only about twenty were fit for duty when the rising took place. an epidemic of fever and dysentery had prevailed for two years among both whites and slaves, weakening the former in such a manner that they had no courage to contend with the revolted negroes, but mostly ran away to fort nassau when they heard of the rising. almost out of their senses from fright, they urged governor hoogenheim to abandon the fort and colony at once. only one of the councillors stood by the governor, and it was as much as these two could accomplish to prevent even the soldiers from running away. as for moving against the rebels, this was impossible, for not one of the colonists would follow councillor abbinsetts in his attempt to do something. their fright even affected the officials and soldiers in such a manner that the governor could hardly escape their importunities to be allowed to leave. four vessels lay in the river, two merchant ships and two slavers, but even their crews were sick, and the captain of one so utterly broken down that he could not attend to his duties. the governor tried to get them to go up the river and do something, but they were almost as frightened as the colonists. only in one place were the negroes opposed; a few whites taking refuge in the block-house at peereboom, some distance above the fort, where their way of escape was cut off. but for want of a little assistance they were compelled to make terms with the negroes. under the agreement the whites were to be allowed to go down to the fort in their own boats, but as soon as they began to embark the negroes fell upon them, men, women, and children, massacred some and took others prisoners, a few only managing to get across the river. among the fugitives was a lad named jan abraham charbon, whose story gives a graphic picture of the alarm and consternation produced by the insurrection, and of its results on himself. he was the son of a planter, and the alarm was brought to the estate at night by a faithful slave. the plantations below were all in the hands of the rebels, who were burning and murdering on both sides of the river. the whites from several neighbouring estates gathered together and decided to make a stand at peereboom, hoping for assistance from fort nassau. they got to the block-house early in the morning, to the number of thirty whites, with a body of faithful slaves, who had not yet deserted them, although they did so later. soon after their arrival the insurgents surrounded the house and attacked it, the whites making a successful defence until seven o'clock in the evening. then one of charbon's slaves came forward and asked if they wanted peace. on receiving a favourable reply the leaders on both sides came to the agreement above-mentioned. next morning the whites were fired upon as they went to embark, and charbon was wounded. however, he jumped into the river and swam across, hiding himself in the jungle, where he came upon another fugitive named mittelholzer. for eight days the two wandered about the forest, losing their way and almost dying from hunger and thirst. they dared not approach the river for fear of the negroes. once they came upon the back of a plantation and hurriedly gathered a few cobs of indian corn, immediately afterwards running back into the bush to eat them. while lying down a negro with a sabre passed quite close without seeing them, but presently another with a gun peeped into the bushes and caught sight of them. on this mittelholzer ran out with his drawn sabre and so furiously attacked the rebel that he cut off one of his hands, captured his gun, and put him to flight. however, this audacity did not save him, for he was captured soon afterwards, charbon managing to escape into the forest. alone the boy wandered about for six or seven days, until, again becoming desperate from hunger, he returned to the same plantation, to fall into the hands of the negroes. he was stripped of his clothes, put in the stocks, flogged, and threatened with death, but was finally spared on account of his youth, and because the rebel chief, "king" coffee, wanted a secretary to write letters to governor hoogenheim, proposing terms. meanwhile the poor governor hardly knew what to do. he sent to surinam and demerara for assistance, but while awaiting this the military officers informed him that the fort was untenable against even a single assault. the wooden palisades were so rotten that a strong man could pull them down easily, and then the building was of wood and could easily be fired. he was ultimately obliged to destroy it and retire down the river, where he at first took possession of the lowest plantation, dageraad, hoping to remain there until assistance arrived. but even here the rumours of an attack by the rebels made the people clamorous to be allowed to leave, and hoogenheim had to retire to the mouth of the river, where there was a small guard-house, or signal station, near the site of what is now new amsterdam. thus the last hold on the plantations was given up, and the whole colony abandoned to the negroes. a month passed before the first arrival from surinam. all that time the governor and a few whites waited day after day, sometimes almost in despair. the vessels had, at the request of their captains, been allowed to leave, carrying with them some of the people, while others had gone off to demerara. this desertion was almost necessary, as the food supply was very limited and of a poor quality--cowards were useless, and therefore no objection was made to their departure. hoogenheim was at last somewhat relieved by the arrival of the english brigantine _betsy_ with a hundred soldiers from surinam, and with this small contingent he at once began to retrace his steps with a view to recover the colony. he went back to dageraad, and in a day or two after was attacked by seven hundred negroes, who fought from early morning to noon, when they retired after suffering a great loss in killed and wounded. it was after this battle that young charbon arrived with a letter bringing "greetings from coffee, governor of the negroes of berbice." the rebel chief said that as the negroes did not want war, he would give his honour half the colony, while he himself would govern the other half and go up the river with his people, who were determined never again to be slaves. no notice was taken of this, and charbon, who had been warned to bring back an answer at his peril, was too pleased to get back to his white friends to again wish for his post of secretary. even now the governor's situation was not only perilous, but most pitiful. st. eustatius sent two vessels, but almost as soon as they arrived the men were attacked by sickness, and instead of being a help they had to be nursed, even the governor himself taking his part in the necessary attendance. at one time there were not enough healthy soldiers to relieve guard, but fortunately coffee had no means of knowing this, or all would certainly have been over with them. it was not until december that a fleet arrived from the netherlands, and then a horrible vengeance overtook the rebels. there was not much difficulty in subduing them, especially when a large contingent of indians was sent overland from demerara to drive them from the forest. in march, , the trials began with a hundred ringleaders, fifty of whom were sentenced to death. fifteen of these were burnt, sixteen broken on the wheel, and twenty-two hanged. the following month they executed in similar ways thirty-four, and later again thirty-two. the chiefs were burnt at slow fires, punishment which they bore with the utmost stoicism. one named atta, however, told the bystanders that he only suffered what he deserved. finally, in december a general amnesty was proclaimed, which made the negroes cry out with joy, _dankje! dankje!_ berbice was of course utterly ruined for a time. the plantations were overrun with weeds, the buildings in ruins, and many of the slaves missing. of the whites only remained; the rest were dead from sickness, had been killed by the negroes, or had fled from the colony. the loss in killed was small, as the general fright prevented any show of resistance. what would have happened if the whites had fallen into the hands of the rebels was shown in one or two flagrant cases. one of the colony surgeons was said to have been flayed alive on the ground that he had poisoned the slaves by forcing them to take medicine. one poor girl who had been captured at peereboom was compelled to submit to the embraces of king coffee and driven mad, while another committed suicide to prevent a similar degradation. about eight hundred slaves were missing, most of whom had been killed, as very few managed to escape to the bush. [illustration: march through a swamp. (_from stedman's "surinam."_)] behind the coast of guiana is a long stretch of swamp, which in slavery times was the general resort of runaways. for miles extends a grassy plain like a meadow, the sedges entirely covering the two to four feet of water which would otherwise give it the appearance of a great lake. except through the various streams that drain it, access is almost impossible during the rainy season, and even the indians care little to explore its recesses beyond fishing in the canal-like creeks. however, here and there are little islands or sand reefs, and on these the runaway slaves took refuge. first, perhaps, a murderer would escape and hide himself for a time until the hue and cry had abated, returning now and again to the plantation at night for the purpose of getting provisions from his friends. then others would follow, until a party of twenty to a hundred, with their wives, had established a little village. towards the end of the last century a number of these communities of bush negroes had been formed in demerara, and their depredations became so common that regular expeditions were sent against them, guided by indian trackers. in they joined with the slaves to raise a general insurrection, but special measures were taken so that they were almost suppressed for a time. before this they had formed a line of stations for seventy miles from the river demerara to the berbice. every camp was naturally surrounded by water, and by driving pointed stakes in a circle, and leaving the entrance to wind through a double line under water, they were made almost impregnable. to reach them the attacking party had to wade up to their middles through perhaps a mile of ooze and water, to be cut with razor grass, and all the time at the mercy of the negroes. only during the dry season was anything like success possible, and even then the negroes generally saved themselves by flight. many of the slaves were friendly with the runaways, but they were much feared by the more timid. on one occasion a negro went to cut wood at the back of a plantation in demerara and came suddenly upon the outpost of a camp, probably the entrance to the concealed path which led to the little sand reef. in walking along he stepped upon a bush-rope, and immediately after heard a bell ring above his head. before he could get away a ferocious bush negro stood before him and demanded his business, but the poor slave was so frightened that he ran home and reported the occurrence to his master. some of the slaves went so far as to enjoy hunting runaways--in fact, there was little love lost between the two parties. one of these was offered his freedom as a reward for the assistance he had given in an expedition, the government engaging to purchase him of his owner provided they both consented. tony, however, did not wish to leave a good master, and refused, stipulating, however, that he should retain the right to accept the kind offer at some future period. when his master ultimately left demerara, some years afterwards, tony claimed his promised freedom and got it. while the bush negroes in other parts of guiana were kept within reasonable bounds, those of surinam, like the maroons of jamaica, had never been conquered. treaties were agreed to by them in and , but disputes continually occurred, with the result that the colonists were always more or less in fear of their raids. then they carried off most of the slaves whenever they attacked a plantation, until their number became so great as to be a real danger. in the authorities in the netherlands resolved to make a special effort to conquer them, and for this purpose raised a corps of all nationalities which was put under the command of colonel fourgeaud. that soldiers should be brought from europe for such a service shows the utter ignorance of the dutch authorities. if the colonists themselves could not put down the bush negroes, how could it be expected that this would be effected by fresh troops from a cold climate, who had no knowledge of the country, the mode of fighting, or the difficulties of travelling through the bush and swamp? commissioners had visited them at different times to arrange the treaties, but there was generally something wrong with the presents (virtually blackmail), or else they were given to the wrong parties. in the chief araby had insisted on the commissioners binding themselves by his form of oath. this was done by each party tasting the blood of the other. with a sharp knife a few drops were drawn from the arm of each person into a calabash of water with a few particles of dry earth. after pouring a small quantity of this mixture on the ground as a libation, the calabash was handed round from one to another until all the company had taken a sip. then the gadoman (priest) took heaven and earth--exemplified by the water and clay--to witness the agreement, and invoked the curse of god upon the first who broke it, the company and crowd of negroes around calling out _da so!_ (that is so, or amen). yet, after all this solemnity, quarrels soon arose again. one chief with his sixteen hundred people had come to terms, but these did not bind his neighbour, who perhaps had half as many. the different chiefs were not united in any way, and it followed, therefore, that, after thousands of guilders had been spent on one, the others made incursions to get a share of the good things for themselves. to the colonists they were all bush negroes, but among themselves they were as distinct as if they had been different nations. even when at peace, and when the chiefs had received gold-headed canes as symbols of authority, they would often call at the outlying plantations and demand rum or anything else they fancied, which the whites dared not refuse. the immediate occasion for the special corps from the mother country was an insurrection of the slaves in , who, after plundering and burning some of the plantations, and murdering their owners, fled in great numbers to join the bush negroes. the whole colony was a scene of horror and consternation--the colonists expected the rising to become general, and took refuge in paramaribo, thus leaving their plantations unprotected. however, it was soon checked, mainly by raising a body of three hundred free negroes, called rangers, who were expert bushfighters, and therefore thoroughly well fitted to cope with the rebels. one of the chiefs named baron had settled on an island in the swamp, such as we have described, where he defied the whole colony. there were no means of communication except hidden tracks under water, and in addition to the palisades the chief had erected a battery of swivel guns which he had stolen from the plantations. thus triply defended by water, stakes, and guns, it is no wonder if he thought his position impregnable. however, he was discovered by a party of rangers, and assaulted by them and a large body of white soldiers. camping first on the edge of the swamp about a mile away, they could see baron's flag waving in defiance on the little island, while they were at their wits' ends to find a means of getting at him. a great many shots were wasted by both sides before they found the distance was too great, even for the swivel guns, and then the rangers began to act. several weeks were passed in attempting to make a causeway by sinking fascines, but when the workers had come within range, so many were killed that it had to be abandoned. in despair of ever effecting anything, they were about to retire, when some of the rangers discovered the hidden pathway under water. a feint was now made of attacking one side by one party, while another crept along the track, and thus at last the fortress was stormed. a terrible hand-to-hand fight took place, in which many were killed on both sides, but even then baron managed to escape with a good number of his followers. this defeat made little impression, for soon afterwards the slaves on three plantations killed their white masters, and, like the others, went off to join the bush negroes. it was now felt that something must be done or the colony would have to be abandoned. the bush negroes had to be hunted from their recesses, however difficult the task might be, otherwise there would be no safety even in the town itself. the expeditions could only move in indian file, exposed to ambushes in the most difficult parts of the track, and firing from behind trees everywhere. there was no possibility of bringing the party together if attacked; it followed, therefore, that the long string of men went forward with the utmost caution. in front came two powerful blacks with machetes or cutlasses to clear the way, and immediately behind them the vanguard. these were followed by the main body alternating with ammunition bearers, and, finally, a long line of carriers with food, medicines, utensils, and kill-devil (rum) with the rearguard. sometimes the party would flounder through a swamp for hours, holding their firearms above their heads to keep them dry. then drenching showers would fall, and give the greatest trouble to prevent the powder from becoming useless. creeks had to be passed on fallen trees, or the party would be detained until a trunk was felled and trimmed to afford a passage. exposed to malaria, mosquitoes, bush ticks, and maribuntas, they went on day after day, only to find, on reaching the village of the bush negroes, that they had gone elsewhere, to perhaps turn up at some unprotected plantation. the european troops died off in great numbers, while the enemy were in their element. it followed, therefore, that little was done, and that the old system of conciliation had to be adopted, with the same unsatisfactory results. finally, by utilising their mutual jealousies, about they were driven so far away from the settlements as to become almost harmless. their descendants still exist almost as savages, with curious manners and customs, partly inherited from their african forefathers, and partly adopted from their neighbours the indians. [illustration: trelawny town. (_from edwards' "west indies."_)] we must now return to the maroons of jamaica, who had not been conquered, although a nominal treaty existed, and the white residents remained at their posts. in july, , two of them were flogged for pig-stealing, and this was considered a disgrace on the whole community. on the return of the pig-stealers to trelawny they raised a great outcry, and the resident was at once ordered to leave on pain of death. efforts were made to pacify them, but they sent a written defiance to the magistrates who had ordered the flogging and declared their intention to attack montego bay. the militia were called out and soldiers applied for, but before the preparations were completed, a body of maroons appeared and asked for an interview with four gentlemen whom they named. hoping the matter might be prevented from going farther, these and several other whites went to the rendezvous, where they were received by three hundred armed men. the maroons complained of the disgrace on the whole body, through the flogging having been performed by a negro overseer in the presence of felons, and demanded reparation. they wanted, first, an addition to their lands, and, second, a dismissal of the then resident in favour of one they had formerly. promising to forward their requests to the governor, the gentlemen left, the maroons appearing as if pacified. however, this interview was only applied for to gain time, and especially to allow the departure of the british fleet which was then on the point of leaving, and might be detained if they moved too quickly. on the report that there was a probability of a settlement of the matter the fleet left, when the maroons immediately began to plot with the slaves for a general rising. reports of this had been received by the governor before, but just after the men-of-war had departed more definite news arrived, which induced him to send a fast-sailing boat to bring them back. fortunately this was successfully accomplished, and at once confidence drove out the fear of murders, fires, and plundering which had alarmed the inhabitants. the slaves were correspondingly disheartened and left the maroons to fight alone. but even the maroons themselves became divided in opinion on the return of the military and naval force. the governor taking advantage of this, issued a proclamation calling upon them to submit, but only thirty-eight old men came forward, the others being determined to fight. they set fire to their own town and commenced hostilities by attacking the outposts. this led to a pursuit in which the whites fell into an ambuscade, many being killed, without as far as was known doing any harm whatever to the enemy. now commenced a series of raids on the plantations, in which even infants at the breast were massacred. [illustration: pacification of the maroons. (_from edwards' "west indies."_)] the matter becoming serious, the general assembly resolved to hunt the rebels with dogs, as had been intended before the treaty. they accordingly sent over to cuba for huntsmen with their powerful blood-hounds, the descendants of those which had once worried the poor indians, and afterwards assisted the buccaneers. times had changed however, and a feeling grew up that hunting men with savage beasts was not quite the thing. this led to some expressions of opinion adverse to the action of the executive, but they excused themselves on the ground that the safety of the island demanded extreme measures. if war was justifiable at all, any and every means, they said, was allowable; in fact, "all was fair in war." meanwhile the maroons had been driven to their strongholds in the mountains, where they had little to eat, and were virtually compelled to ravage the plantations for food. on the arrival of forty _chasseurs_ with their hundred dogs, however, they became alarmed, and began to sue for mercy. it does not appear that there was any real necessity for using the animals, their presence being enough for the purpose. they were led _behind_ the troops, and on their appearance the maroons surrendered in great numbers, this putting an end to the insurrection. now came the question of what was to be done with them. it was argued that no country could suffer people to live in it unless they could be controlled by law, and that obedience could not be expected from these people. to expect it was entirely out of the question; it was therefore resolved to transport them from the island. accordingly, in june, , six hundred were sent to halifax, nova scotia, where lands were granted them and a subsistence allowed until crops could be raised. not liking the climate, they were ultimately established in sierra leone, where they became the nucleus of the present colony. those who had submitted remained in jamaica, where their descendants are still well known. [illustration] [illustration] xi. the sovereignty of the seas. by the middle of the eighteenth century spain had fallen behind, and even holland had lost her prestige. it followed, therefore, that the only power that could rival great britain was france, and she was an enemy that could never be despised. the struggle in the west indies between these two powers now became, if possible, more intense; and if the result gave the sovereignty of the seas to britons, they have mainly to ascribe it to their naval training in this part of the world. the mistakes of admiral vernon were lessons which, being borne in mind by later admirals, tended to prevent similar disasters in the future. there was a short intermission in the struggle between and , when the "seven years' war" commenced; but before the actual declaration hostilities had commenced between the two rivals in india and north america. now arose one of england's great admirals, rodney, who gained his laurels in the caribbean sea, and was mainly instrumental in putting france in the background as a naval power. he first came to the front in , when he bombarded havre, and later, with that other great seaman, sir samuel hood, he became a "household word" in the west indies. before they appeared, however, the british captured guadeloupe, and commenced a general raid upon the french shipping. but, as usual, our gallant foes were by no means despicable, for in they claimed to have taken , english vessels, against a loss of only . on the th of january, , rodney sailed from barbados for martinique, in command of eighteen ships of the line, and on the th of the following month the island capitulated. then grenada was taken, to be followed by dominica, tobago, st. vincent, and st. lucia, thus giving the whole of the french caribbees into the possession of great britain. spain being also involved, admiral pococke attacked havana in may, and, after a siege of twenty-nine days, took the morro castle, a fort hitherto considered impregnable. a fortnight later the governor of cuba was compelled to capitulate, thus giving the town also into the hands of the british. these exploits made france and spain sue for peace, which was signed at paris in february, , when grenada, st. vincent, dominica, and tobago were ceded to great britain, the other captures being restored. after this war positive orders were sent to the british west indies to break off all trade and intercourse with the french and spanish settlements, with the result that contraband and other traffic was thrown into the hands of the dutch and danes. then the dutch islands of curaçao and st. eustatius began to flourish more and more, and those of the danes, st. thomas and st. john, became free ports. during the wars these islands rose to a pitch of prosperity hardly possible to any of those belonging to the combatants, on account of their neutrality. naturally they were almost barren and of little account as plantations; but as _entrepôts_ they were exceedingly useful, not only to their owners, but to the belligerents as well. here alone could french, spanish, and british ships meet without fighting, and for them they could run when pursued by the enemy. the island of st. thomas was first colonised in , but for a long time it made little progress. it became useful to the pirates, however, mainly from its being a safe place at which to dispose of their captures. then merchant vessels found it sometimes convenient to go in to escape these rovers, perhaps to be followed by them, and yet remain safe until an opportunity occurred for escaping their vigilance. prizes were brought here and sold, the prospect of good bargains leading to the settlement of a number of rich merchants, and especially jews. what with all this, and a little contraband traffic, the people of st. thomas did very well, and soon the harbour became one of the busiest in the west indies. and here we must mention that the jews were a very important factor in the development of the early settlements. it will be remembered that large numbers of these people were driven from spain after the conquest of granada, and how they went to portugal and the netherlands. a large number also went to brazil, where at first they had a measure of freedom in the exercise of their religion not granted in the mother country. when the dutch captured brazil, perfect freedom followed; but after portugal took her own again, this was withdrawn, and in consequence many left for surinam and the west indian islands. here they were joined by some of their co-religionists from holland, and in time became a powerful body of planters, but more especially traders. to them were due many improvements in the manufacture of sugar, and even the introduction of the cane into some places. in every colony there was a small community, often with a synagogue, and their connection one with another, as well as their virtual neutrality, made their transactions more safe than those of other traders. as may be supposed, they had no love for the spaniard, and consequently were the main financiers, not only of privateers, but even pirates. st. thomas, curaçao, and st. eustatius lived by the misfortunes of others. no longer could the jolly buccaneer sell his prizes and booty at jamaica; he must go elsewhere, and let other places reap the advantage of his free and easy bargains. for it was "easy come, easy go" with him, and the fortune he made was soon wasted in riotous living. this was all to the advantage of the wily jew, who first haggled about the price of a cargo, and then got his money back by charging enormous profits on the supplies. the rover was as careless as the proverbial "jack ashore," and could easily be induced to spend his last piece of eight on the luxuries so temptingly laid before him, utterly regardless of the consequences. he had only to go out and capture another vessel to be able to return and renew his jollification. in war time these harbours were crowded with the shipping of all nations, and many a fortune was made that enabled the merchant to go to europe as a west indian nabob. then there was a great demand for neutral vessels, in which goods could be transhipped for conveyance to colonies where the belligerent flag might bring a crowd of privateers before the vessel got safely into harbour. even physicians and surgeons made their piles, for there was always more or less sickness on board the vessels, and a hundred dollars a visit was a common fee. in began the dispute with the american colonies of great britain, and four years later france joined them, thus bringing trouble again upon the west indies. the first important move was made by the french, who, in september, , took dominica, on which the english retaliated by capturing st. lucia. then a fleet was sent out from england under admiral byron, and another from france under count de grasse. the french took st. vincent and grenada, and every island of either nation was in a state of alarm and consternation. in july, , spain joined the others against england, on the ground that her flag had been insulted. to this it was replied that she harboured american privateers, and furnished them with false documents, under which they carried spanish colours. thus england had her hands full, for the yankees alone gave her quite enough work, without the addition of these old rivals. as yet rodney had not come out, but in the years and he pressed his claim on the government to have a command in the west indies. the seas were well known to him, and he had his views as to the proper mode of carrying out operations; but for some time his application was refused. finally, however, in october, , he was appointed to replace admiral byron, with supreme control over the operations in the caribbean sea, as well as freedom to intervene if necessary on the american coast. rodney was at last satisfied, and he left in december with a convoy, the whole fleet numbering three hundred. in the centre were transports and merchant vessels, and on either side men-of-war. off cape finisterre he captured a convoy of sixteen spanish vessels, and beyond cape st. vincent fought with another squadron, and captured four men-of-war, including the admiral. on then to the relief of gibraltar, from whence he sent part of the fleet into the mediterranean, and where he remained until february , , when he sailed for the west indies. arriving off st. lucia on the th of march, he came upon the french fleet under de guichen, which he attempted to engage, but was prevented from the want of skill in his captains. the result was that both fleets sailed away from each other without much damage to either, both stating that the other refused to fight. as, however, the french had thirty vessels to the english seventeen, they could have compelled an action; so that, although the affair was not creditable to either, it was perhaps a little more disgraceful to the larger fleet. rodney was in a great rage. he attributed his failure to the incompetency of his subordinates, who had not been properly trained to make combined naval evolutions. every captain, he said, thought himself fit to be prime minister of britain. however, he continued his cruise, barring the way of the french, and driving de guichen to st. eustatius to refit. now he began to teach his captains those naval manoeuvres in which he considered them so much wanting, which his assistant admiral, sir hyde parker, did not altogether like. rodney, it appears, treated all his subordinates as if they were raw recruits, and, while he gained obedience, created a great deal of ill-feeling. but, with all their training, they could not bring de guichen to fight, even when they encountered him a second time; yet we may presume that the training was by no means wasted. as if great britain had not enough enemies, in december, , she declared war with the dutch, on the ground that they assisted the american colonies. what a formidable array--the colonies, france, spain, and holland! yet, somehow or other, she managed to cope with the whole. st. eustatius was the great offender among the dutch colonies. notwithstanding that the home government had sent out strict orders to all her settlements not to honour the flag of the revolted british colonies, or to supply them with contraband of war, there is no doubt that they were very loose in inquiring into such transactions. as we have said already, this and other islands were very useful to the belligerents; and, as we have just stated, de guichen went to st. eustatius to escape rodney and refit. this was no doubt a sore point with the british admiral, who barred the enemy's passage to his own islands only to see him get what he needed from the dutch. when the news of the declaration of war came out, rodney was ready at once to pounce upon the offender; and on the rd of february, , before the authorities of st. eustatius had heard the news, he appeared in the harbour. the governor could hardly believe his ears when an officer appeared to demand the surrender of the island to his majesty of great britain, but being entirely unprepared, and quite unfitted to cope with such a force, he was obliged to surrender at discretion. here was the opportunity for revenge, and rodney embraced it. even his best friends could hardly excuse the arbitrary doings which followed, and which were stigmatised as unworthy and almost dishonourable to a british admiral. being determined to root out this nest of contrabandists, he confiscated all the property of the inhabitants, and ordered them to quit the island. the harbour was filled with shipping, and the stores with goods, the vessels numbering two hundred and fifty, and the contents of the stores worth about three million pounds. here was indeed a disaster to the jews, not only of st. eustatius, but even of british islands, for they were all in correspondence. rodney went so far as to say that many of the english merchants ought to have been hanged, for it was through their means, and the help of this neutral port, that the enemy were able to carry on the war. the people were astonished at such unheard-of treatment. never before had such a thing happened, except in the raids of buccaneers and pirates. the jews petitioned rodney and general vaughan to rescind their decision. they had received orders to give up the keys of their stores and inventories of the goods in them, as well as household furniture and plate; then they were to prepare themselves to quit the island. such orders from british commanders, whose principal characteristics were mercy and humanity, had distressed them in the extreme, so that their families were absolutely in despair. this appeal had no effect, even when it was supported by some of the british officers, and such an auction now began as was never known before. the news reached barbados and the other islands, and down came a horde of speculators, prepared to make their fortunes at once if possible. such a haul did not occur every day, and they intended to take advantage of it. thousands of bales of goods were brought out and sold, without either seller or buyer knowing anything of their contents. they might contain rich silks and velvets or the cheapest slave clothing. it was a grand lottery in which every bidder got a prize, although they were in some cases of little value. no one needed to despair of a bargain, however, for there was so much to sell as compared with the number of purchasers, that everything went cheap. some few got bitten, but in the end hardly a tithe of the value of the goods was obtained. while this was going on at st. eustatius, some bristol privateers got information of the outbreak of hostilities, and pounced upon demerara and berbice, where they levied blackmail and captured most of the shipping. as usual with these plunderers, they had no authority to capture the colony, nor had they in this case even commissions against the dutch. however, they put the inhabitants in a state of consternation, until, a few days later, two men-of-war arrived from barbados to receive the capitulation, which was demanded on the same terms as that of st eustatius, although neither party knew what these terms were. nothing was left but submission, although the authorities protested against such an unheard-of manner of dictating unknown terms. the governor of barbados had heard from one of the inhabitants of that island that the directeur-general of demerara had expressed, at his dinner-table, his fears that in case of a war the river would be plundered by privateers, and of his preferring to surrender to one of the king's ships: for this reason he had sent the men-of-war. this was considered a bit of "sharp practice" by the demerarians, but perhaps turned out for the best. two commissioners were appointed by the colony to go in one of the english vessels to st. eustatius and arrange the articles of capitulation, which were fortunately on altogether different lines from those of that island. surinam, st. martin's, saba, and st. bartholomew's also surrendered on the same unknown terms, but the admiral said that he and general vaughan thought they ought to be put on a different footing. they would not treat them like the other, whose inhabitants, belonging to a state bound by treaty to assist great britain, had yet nevertheless assisted her public enemies and the rebels to her state, with every necessary and implement of war as well as provisions, thus perfidiously breaking the very treaties they had sworn to maintain. the treatment of st. eustatius caused a great stir, not only in the west indies, but in england as well. a remonstrance was sent to rodney by the merchants of st. kitt's, who claimed that a large quantity of their goods had been seized. some of these were insured in england, and they considered their excellencies responsible for their losses, for which they would seek redress by all the means in their power. it was impossible, they said, for many of them to be more utterly ruined than they then were, and they asked that certificates in reference to their property should be sent to england, in demanding which they were claiming a right rather than a favour. in reply, rodney said he was surprised that gentlemen who called themselves subjects and merchants of great britain, should, when it was in their power to lodge their effects in the british islands to windward, under the protection of british laws, send them to leeward to st. eustatius, where, in the eyes of reason and common sense, they could only be lodged to supply their king's and country's enemies. the island, he continued, was dutch--everything in it was dutch--all was under the dutch flag. as dutch it should be treated, and this was his firm resolution as a british admiral, who had no view whatever but to do his duty to his king and country. two merchants from st. eustatius went to london, where they were examined by the attorney and solicitor-generals. they clamoured for justice, and got it, for one of them was committed on a charge of high treason for corresponding with the american agent at amsterdam, and for furnishing the americans with military stores and ammunition. several attempts were made to injure rodney with the king, but the blow on the enemy was so severe that his majesty would not listen to the detractors. it is said that a cry of rage went up from the french and american colonies, and that rodney gloried in his triumph. he was undoubtedly inclined to ride rough-shod over everybody and everything, but as long as he was successful, only the enemy complained. but the trouble was not yet over, for the merchants of st. kitt's sent lawyers to file their claims in the admiralty courts. then st. eustatius was recaptured for holland by the french, and the tide turned against the admiral. now was the time to attack him, and his enemies took advantage of it. the mob that threw up their caps and shouted for joy at the glorious news of the capture, now lifted their hands in horror at rodney's misdeeds. even his friend hood was guilty of the meanness of charging his comrade with carrying off vast sums of money, and never accounting for them. rodney was recalled to england, where he arrived on the th of september, , in ill-health, and rather downspirited. in december burke moved the house of commons for a committee to inquire into the affair, but although he pressed the motion with all his powers of oratory it was rejected. meanwhile the french were turning the tables upon the late victors and having their revenge for the disasters which had fallen upon them. this led to rodney being again consulted, with the result that on the th of february, , he arrived in barbados with twelve ships of the line. this was the most critical period during the whole war. on the th of october previous, lord cornwallis had surrendered to the americans at yorktown, and this disaster was followed not only by the loss of the west indian captures, but of the british colonies of st. kitt's, nevis, montserrat, dominica, and st. vincent. it was by the special request of the king that rodney had been again sent out, and before his departure he declared that either the french admiral or himself should be captured. lord sandwich, to impress him the more, on the eve of his departure said: "the fate of this empire is in your hands, and i have no wish that it should be in those of any other." meanwhile the count de grasse was at martinique, preparing a large fleet for the final reduction of the british by conquering jamaica. he was expecting large reinforcements of french vessels and troops, which rodney tried unsuccessfully to cut off. on the th of april the french were reported as having sailed for hispaniola, where they were to be joined by a spanish contingent, and rodney at once sailed in pursuit. the result was that, at last, on the th, a decisive victory was gained off dominica. admiral de grasse was captured, many of his fleet destroyed, and the whole expedition broken up. the british west indies were thus saved, and the people of jamaica erected a statue to the gallant admiral. rodney, in concluding his despatch giving the account, said it was his most ardent wish that the british flag should for ever float in every part of the globe, and there is no doubt that this triumph conduced to such an end. it stands prominently forth as the greatest sea fight of the age, and was only eclipsed by those of nelson, who we may state received much of his naval training in the west indies. in january, , peace was again restored. great britain lost her american colonies, restored those she had taken from france and holland, and got back her own, except the island of tobago, which was ceded to france. from spain she got the right to cut logwood between the rivers hondo and belize, on the understanding that all other places on the coasts of central america should be abandoned, and that no forts be erected on the concession. for ten years there was peace, and during that time the planting colonies were developed to a wonderful extent, while those dependent on the contraband traffic became much depressed. the english settlements increased in value so much, that in they were calculated to have under cultivation two million and a half acres, with five hundred and sixty thousand slaves. these were the palmy days of the slave-trade, when the importations leapt up year after year, with a corresponding increase in the export of produce. the property was valued at over eighty-six millions sterling, jamaica coming first, but nearly every other island flourishing to an extent hardly credible to those who have only seen them after their downfall. what jamaica was to the english, the western portion of hispaniola became to the french, and even spain increased her productions, now that things had become settled, and treasure seeking less remunerative. altogether, the period from this time, to the end of the century, may be considered as the planter's best days, and the "good old times" of which we hear so much but find it so difficult to precisely indicate. on the st of february, , peace was again broken by the french convention, the declaration of war being made against england and holland. thus began that struggle which seemed interminable at the time, and which actually lasted twenty-two years. as usual the west indies suffered, but this time they were not quite so much the scene of contention as they had been formerly. tobago was captured from the french on the th of april, but during the remainder of the year little was done. in january, , however, admiral sir john jervis arrived at barbados, and in the following month took martinique after a severe struggle. then he went on to st. lucia, which also surrendered, and before the end of april guadeloupe fell. then came reverses; a french fleet arrived, and all were recaptured. meanwhile france had invaded holland, and established a sister republic on her own lines, rendering it necessary for the stadtholder, the prince of orange, to fly off to england. from kew, where the king had given him a residence, he wrote letters to all the dutch colonies, asking the authorities to place them in the hands of the british, and treat people of that nationality as friends and allies. with these despatches british fleets were sent to all the possessions of holland, but only one or two obeyed the command, the result being that the others had to be taken by force, until hardly a dutch colony existed in any part of the world. in october, , spain joined france on the ground that the british, in their operations against the enemy, had injured her in several ways. one of the reasons given was so absurd that we can hardly conceive it to have been put forth seriously. great britain had captured demerara, and this put her in a situation to possess positions of greater importance. spain, however, got nothing by her taking up the quarrel, for her trade was absolutely swept from the seas, and communication with america almost cut off. this state of things became so troublesome that for the first time in her history neutral vessels were permitted to trade in her american colonies. she also lost the island of trinidad, which had remained in her possession since the days of ralegh. soon the whole of the west indies and spanish main were virtually under the control of great britain, little opportunity being given to her enemies of crossing the atlantic. no longer could the caribbean sea be the scene of the great struggle--the forces of the combatants were wanted nearer home. now again came the harvest of the little island of st. thomas, until denmark was also numbered among the enemies of the "queen of the seas." then the united states came to get her pickings as a neutral, which gave such an impetus to her ship-building and commerce, that later the seamen trained under such auspices became formidable rivals to the british. the colonists did not altogether dislike this great war. true, freights and insurances were very high, but then the prices of produce were high also. there was a spice of danger in every voyage, but after all the risk was not so very great until the vessels came into the channel. then there was a convoy to protect them, and they might even get prize money by capturing traders of the enemy. every vessel went armed, and many a privateer of the enemy got severely beaten by a gallant body of merchant seamen and passengers. this was a glorious time for the british navy, but the fleets in the west indies had little to do after the beginning of the war. there was a great disturbance on the island of hispaniola, a riot in grenada, troubles in the french islands, and a few skirmishes here and there, but nothing of much consequence to the british. there were many small difficulties of course, and the navigation laws had to be relaxed generally in favour of neutrals, as otherwise provisions would have been scarce. the dutch were not altogether displeased with british rule, for curaçao, which had not been conquered, was captured from its french garrison in , at the request of the inhabitants, whose trade had been entirely stopped. then the spanish colonies came to an arrangement by which much of their produce went through british hands, and this prevented the neutrals from getting everything. in the peace of amiens gave france a rest for about ten months, when she got back her own and the dutch colonies, leaving trinidad as an addition to those of great britain. hardly, however, had they taken possession, when the treaty was broken, and the british were again in their midst. a great deal of the work which had been undone by the peace had now to be undertaken afresh, but it was ultimately accomplished, so that things went on much the same as before. the year was notable for nelson's trip across the atlantic in search of the french fleet, which however fled before him and got back to europe. the same year also saw the heroic defence of "h.m.s." diamond rock, which however was not a ship, but an improvised fortress, which after a long struggle was obliged to capitulate. hundreds of gallant exploits were performed in the west indies by both english and french, and thus the war went on year after year, until it became something to be calculated for in commercial transactions. people began to look upon it almost as a natural state of things, and fathers told their children that they had peace on one occasion long ago for as many as ten years. the british had undoubtedly become very arrogant. their position on the sea was so supreme that they did much as they pleased with the few neutrals. this sort of thing did not suit the north american traders, who were englishmen also, and like their forefathers resented any interference whatever. it resulted, therefore, that the united states declared war in january, , and made the planters understand what took place "when greek met greek." almost immediately every colony was pestered and worried by a number of fast-sailing schooners, as dangerous in a sense as had once been the fly-boats of the buccaneers. the heavy sugar boats going from plantation to port were captured in great numbers, and some of the harbours actually blockaded by the "saucy jack," the "hornet," and other audacious yankee craft with names as suggestive of their characters. then, indeed, the west indies were roused from their apathy--war was actually at their doors. however, peace came at last, and after it might be expected that the islands would go on prospering and to prosper. such, however, was not the case. in a great difficulty had come upon them by the abolition of the slave-trade, which at once put a stop to all extensions, either in the way of new plantations or of the acreage under cultivation. this was the first great check, and with the fall in prices, which ensued when britain became the consignee of almost every settlement, caused a cry of "ruin!" to arise, which has continued with short intermissions down to the present day. [illustration] xii. downfall of hispaniola. before the abolition of the slave-trade had affected the british islands the french colonies were distracted by the results of their great revolution. hispaniola, or rather that portion now known as hayti, had become, as we before said, the most important colony; we must now give the story of its downfall. if this had happened by the fortune of war it would perhaps not have been so deplorable, but to be utterly ruined as it was, until even now, after the lapse of a century, it is behind its neighbours, is very sad. but, in the struggle for existence the straining after liberty has to be reckoned with, and although the process causes intense suffering to both lord and serf--master and slave--the fight is sure to come at some time or other. miss martineau uses the title, "the hour and the man," for her romance of the liberation of this once flourishing island. the hour had come, but we are afraid _the man_ has not yet appeared on hispaniola. when the french people took the government from the hands of their king and summoned the states general, revolutionary ideas had already come to a head, and the matter of slavery received much consideration. in all the colonies were numbers of free coloured persons, who had been manumitted by their fathers, and in many cases sent to europe for their education. in paris they were brought into communication with a kind of anti-slavery society, called _l'amis des noirs_, before which they had opportunities of ventilating their grievances. these consisted of civil disabilities which kept mulattoes in the background, and prevented their taking what they believed to be their proper positions in society. the time was fitted for such an agitation, the people were there, and it was only to be expected that their complaints would come in the long catalogue of charges against the aristocrats, among whom were included the west indian planters. however, although there was little sympathy with the colonists, nothing particular was done as yet, except the issue of the celebrated declaration that all men were born, and continued to be, free and equal as to their political rights. it might be said, perhaps, that this alone gave freedom to the slave and civil equality to the mulatto, but as it did not specially apply to them, little trouble ensued. the planters, however, were sufficiently acute to see the logical outcome of the declaration, and were correspondingly troubled, as they felt that if published among the negroes it might convert them into implacable enemies, and bring on dangerous insurrections. they were soon pacified, however, by orders to convene provincial assemblies, and send representatives to paris: this they thought would prevent mischief, as their interests could be made known and promoted in france. [illustration: view of part of hispaniola. (_from andrews' "west indies."_)] the free coloured people soon heard the news, and at once began to claim their rights as citizens, which the planters were by no means prepared to grant. on this refusal they began to arm themselves, and make demonstrations in various parts of hayti, but at first were easily put down by the authorities. as yet there was little ill-feeling; the demonstrations were only alarming from their significance and their possible consequences. it followed, therefore, that little was done beyond a demand for submission, the mulattoes being allowed to disperse on promising to keep the peace. a few whites, however, who had been leaders in the agitation, were severely punished, and when a certain mons. dubois not only advocated the claims of the coloured people, but the slaves as well, he was banished from the colony. mons. de beaudierre, a _ci-devant_ magistrate, also helped to add to the trouble. he was enamoured of a coloured woman, who owned a valuable plantation, and wanted to marry her, but at the same time wished to see her free from all civil disabilities. accordingly he drew up a memorial to the committee of his section, claiming for the mulattoes the full benefit of the national declaration of rights. this roused the authorities, who at once arrested him, but so strong was the feeling of the whites that they took the prisoner from gaol and put him to death. the agitation in hayti as well as in martinique led to petitions and remonstrances to the national assembly, and on the th of march, , the majority voted that it was never intended to comprehend the internal government of the colonies in the constitution of the mother country, or to subject them to laws incompatible with their local conditions. they therefore authorised the inhabitants of each colony to signify their wishes, and promised that, as long as the plans suggested were conformable to the mutual interests of the colonies and the metropolis, they would not cause any innovations. this of course raised a clamour among the friends of the blacks and mulattoes, who considered it as sanctioning the slave-trade, which they wanted to put down. in hayti the general assembly met and made some radical changes, which were opposed by many of the old colonists, and this brought discord among the whites. the governor dissolved the assembly, but this only brought more trouble, for the subordinate western body took the part of the general assembly, and went so far that the governor tried to suppress it by force. but the members put themselves under the protection of the national guard who resisted the troops sent against them, and after a short skirmish drove them off. thus all authority was put at defiance by the whites, when if they wanted to keep down the coloured and black people, it was of the greatest consequence that union should exist. the general convention called the colony to arms, but, before actually commencing hostilities, they resolved to proceed to france, and lay the whole matter before the convention. accordingly to the number of eighty-five they sailed on the th of august, , the authorities also agreeing to await the result. among the coloured residents in france was a young man named james ogé, the son of a mulatto woman by a white man, whose mother owned a coffee plantation. he was a regular attendant at the meetings of the friends of the blacks, where, under such men as lafayette and robespierre, he had been initiated into the doctrine of the equal rights of men. on hearing of the vote of non-interference with the colonies, ogé, maddened by the thought that the civil disabilities of people of his colour would be continued, resolved to go himself to hayti. he was confident that the people there would join him, and going out by way of the united states he obtained there a good supply of arms, with which he arrived in october of the same year. six weeks after his arrival he wrote to the governor, demanding that all the privileges of the whites should be extended to every other person, without distinction. as representing the coloured people he made this request, and if their wrongs were not at once redressed, he said, they were prepared to take up arms. he had already been joined by his two brothers, and they were busy calling upon their friends to insist, assuring them that france approved of their claim. but with all his efforts he could get but few followers, the same difficulty cropping up here as in most of the slave insurrections--a want of the power of combination under one of their own race. however, he at last got together two hundred, and, receiving no answer from the governor, they commenced a series of raids on the plantations. ogé cautioned them against bloodshed, but the first white man that fell into their hands was murdered, and others soon met with the same fate. even mulattoes, who refused to join the insurgents, were treated the same way; one man who pointed to his wife and six children, as a reason for his refusal, being murdered with them. the governor now sent out a body of troops and militia to suppress the revolt, with the result that ogé was defeated, and obliged to take refuge with the remnant of his followers in the spanish colony of st. domingo. the whites were now roused, and began to cry out for vengeance upon the coloured people in general, whether they had sympathised with ogé or not. in self-defence they had to take up arms in several places, but by conciliation on the part of the authorities a general insurrection was averted for the time. a new governor now arrived, and one of his first acts was to demand the extradition of ogé by the spaniards, which, being done, he was executed by breaking alive upon the wheel. in his last confession he is said to have stated that a plot was then hatching for the destruction of all the whites, but little notice was taken of this information. the whites believed that now the leader was dead things would go on in the old way, but, unfortunately for them, they were mistaken. meanwhile the delegates had arrived in france, where they were honourably received. after an interview with a committee of the convention, however, they were informed that their decrees were reversed, the haytian assembly dissolved, and they themselves under arrest. this, when the news reached the colony, put the whites into a state of consternation, and for awhile it appeared as if hayti would be the scene of a civil war. captain mauduit, who had led the force against the assembly, was murdered by his own troops, and preparations were made to resist the authorities. the planters thought these arbitrary measures of france very oppressive, but they had yet to learn how far the revolutionists might go. in may, , the matter of equal rights for the coloured people came up before the national convention, and their claim was strongly advocated by robespierre and others. it was now that the words, "perish the colonies rather than sacrifice one of our principles," were uttered by that bloodthirsty revolutionist, to afterwards become a stock quotation of the extremist in every country. the result of the discussion was the decree of may the th, that the people of colour resident in the french colonies, and born of free parents, should be allowed all the privileges of french citizens; to have votes, and be eligible for election to the parochial and colonial assemblies. this brought on a crisis in hayti. the coloured people were determined to obtain their rights, and the planters equally resolved that they should remain as before. the governor was so much alarmed that he at once sent to france for further assistance, at the same time asking for the suspension of the obnoxious decree. hearing of this, the mulattoes began to assemble and take up arms, and the governor hardly dared to take action pending the result of his application. on the morning of the rd of august, , the people of cape françois were alarmed by reports that the slaves in the neighbourhood were in open revolt, plundering the plantations and murdering the whites. the disturbance had commenced with the hewing in pieces of a young white apprentice on pin. noé, which murder was followed by a general massacre of every white man, except the surgeon, who was spared that he might become useful. from one estate to another the revolt spread, until the whole neighbourhood was a scene of murder, fire, and rapine. the white townspeople put their women and children on board the ships, and then united for a stubborn defence, but the coloured men wanted to remain neutral. this roused such a strong feeling that even at that critical time the whites had to be prevented by the authorities from murdering the mulattoes. by thus protecting the mulattoes their good-will was gained, and they volunteered to go out against the rebels. amidst the glare of a hundred conflagrations a strong body of men was collected and sent against the negroes. they defeated one body of four hundred, but accessions were continually made to the side of the rebels, until their overpowering numbers compelled the whites to retreat, and do their best to save the town. the revolt had been continually spreading, and now extended over the whole country, coloured people joining the negroes in their work of destruction. one planter was nailed to a gate, and then had his limbs cut off, one after another; a carpenter was sawn asunder, on the ground that this mode of execution suited his trade; and two mulatto sons killed their white father, notwithstanding his prayers and promises. white, and even coloured children, were killed without mercy at the breasts of their mothers, and young women were violated before the eyes of their parents. here and there the horror was relieved by kind actions on the part of faithful slaves, who, while joining in the revolt for their own safety, saved their masters and mistresses. the inhabitants of the town did all they could by sorties, but this was very little. the rebels would run away at the first onset, but only to return in overpowering numbers. a few were taken and broken on the wheel, others fell in the skirmishes, but the insurrection still went on. it spread to the neighbourhood of port au prince, but, on the inhabitants of that town agreeing to enforce the obnoxious decree, the rebels retired. this action was at last followed by those of cape françois, and a partial truce ensued. in two months, it was said, a thousand plantations were destroyed, and ten thousand blacks and two thousand whites killed. the news of this great disaster caused a revulsion of feeling in paris, and the decree which had caused so much trouble was annulled on the th of september, before the results of the insurrection and the truces were known. the arrangement had been come to at port au prince on the th of the same month, and on the th at cape françois. thus almost at the time when it was being repealed the colonists were promising to see it enforced. it is hardly necessary to say what could be the only result of the arrival of this revocation. the struggle was renewed, and all hopes of reconciliation were at an end. the coloured party charged the whites with treachery and duplicity; now they would fight until one or the other was exterminated. they captured port st. louis, but got a severe repulse from port au prince. both sides were desperate, and although there were fewer massacres in cold blood the rebels fell in thousands. but as they were so numerous this slaughter made little impression. even when the prisoners were tortured with a refinement of cruelty hardly credible, no good resulted from such examples. the time for all that had passed, yet the whites nailed one poor mulatto by the feet in a cart, and had him driven round the neighbourhood as a spectacle, before breaking him on the wheel. in january, , three commissioners arrived from france to attempt a reconciliation, which they commenced by publishing the decree revoking the rights of the coloured people. then they proclaimed a general amnesty for all who should surrender within a given time. such utter ignorance as was thus shown has hardly been equalled in any age; we can only ascribe it to the fact that the scum had risen to the top. the mulattoes were roused to fury, and the whites equally exasperated. at petit goave the rebels held thirty-four white prisoners, and at once they were brought forth to be broken on the wheel, previous to which the proclamation of amnesty was read to them, their executioners mockingly claiming it as a pardon for the cruelties they were exercising. this sort of thing, however, could not go on very long. most of the plantations and provision grounds had been destroyed, and both parties felt the want of food. unless something were done they would all be starved; for without means of buying supplies even the whites could hardly exist, while the blacks did nothing to raise further crops in place of those they had eaten or destroyed. france again made an attempt to put matters straight by declaring, on the th of april, , that the people of colour and free negroes ought to enjoy equal political rights with other citizens. new assemblies were to be called, in the election of which they should be allowed to vote; a new governor of hayti was appointed, and new commissioners sent out to inquire into the whole matter. the governor and the commission arrived at cape françois on the th of september, and finding everything in confusion, they sent the late administrator to france as a prisoner, and called a new assembly. then the commissioners put themselves in communication with the rebels, which made the whites think them about to emancipate the slaves. this was followed by a dispute between them and the governor, and the appointment of yet another head, who arrived in may, . he refused to recognise the commissioners, but they were not so easily set aside, for having the whole power of the colony under control, they took possession of port au prince, jacmel, and cape françois, afterwards ordering the governor to leave. this led to another war, in which the coloured rebels and even negroes were utilised by the commissioners, who thus, in a way, sanctioned the revolt. similar atrocities to those formerly enacted were renewed, and again the colony was distracted in every part. the ruined planters now lost all hope, and began to leave for the united states, jamaica, and other colonies. some went to england, especially those royalists who attributed all their disasters to the revolution. here they began to urge the british to conquer hayti, although as yet war had not been declared with france. in september, , an expedition was sent from jamaica, and on its arrival at jeremie the british were apparently welcomed by the whites. but the colony was so utterly distracted that little could be done, and although they took port au prince they were repulsed at cape tiberon. then sickness fell upon them--"yellow jack"--and this, with the delay of reinforcements, made all prospects of success quite hopeless. with a foreign enemy at hand the commissioners did all they could to reconcile the parties, and to this end, just before the landing of the british, proclaimed complete emancipation of all the slaves, which was ratified in paris on the th of february, . this brought the whole body of rebels together, and the position of the enemy became untenable. finally came the cession of the spanish part of the island to france, and now it might be supposed that something could be done to restore peace. this repulse of the british was greatly due to the influence of a very remarkable personage, toussaint l'ouverture, a pure negro, and lately a slave. he had joined the revolt from its commencement, and had succeeded in gaining such an influence over his race as had hitherto been unknown in any slave insurrection. as soon as the general emancipation had been declared, he was so grateful that he joined the french, heart and soul, drove out the british, put down the mulattoes, and was appointed commander-in-chief of the united forces. in he became virtually dictator of the whole island, and was made president for life, with the result that many plantations were re-established, and the colony was making slow progress towards recovery. napoleon buonaparte has been much lauded for his diplomacy, but he certainly knew nothing of the west indies. after the peace of amiens he had a little time to look after the colonies, and hayti was among the first to receive attention. toussaint was then almost at the height of his power, and had prepared a constitution which was laid before napoleon, on reading which the first consul said it was an outrage on the honour of france, and the work of a revolted slave, whom they must punish. it was true that the black president was virtually independent. he lived in the palace at st. domingo, and, with his councillors of all colours, enacted the part of a little sovereign. to crown his audacity, he, in july, , proclaimed the independence of the island, and himself as supreme chief. this roused the anger of napoleon, who retaliated by a proclamation re-establishing slavery in the island--a measure so foolish that even the planters themselves saw the impossibility of carrying it out. to reduce the negroes again to servitude was utterly impossible, even with all the power france could then bring into the island. however, it was attempted with a force of thirty thousand men and sixty-six ships of war. when this immense fleet arrived at cape françois the town was commanded by the negro christophe, who, finding himself unable to cope with such a force, burnt the palace and withdrew. the french landed and sent two sons of toussaint, who had been sent to france for their education, and to whom they had given a passage to their father, bearing a letter from napoleon, offering him great honours if he would declare his allegiance. all that toussaint said in reply was that he would be faithful to his brethren and his god, and with that he allowed his sons to return. as yet the declaration that slavery was to be re-established had not been published, and the negroes were working the plantations on a share of the crop, with penalties for idleness. the french tried to put the negroes against toussaint, in which they succeeded to some extent, the result being that civil war was renewed, and that the power of the black chieftain was broken. then the general thought it time to issue the proclamation, which fell upon his negro allies like a thunder-clap, and made them again rally round toussaint. thus almost everything which had been gained was utterly and for ever lost. now the french tried a little double-dealing. the general stated in a new proclamation that ignorance had led him hastily to fall into error, and that to prevent anything of the same kind, and to provide for the future welfare and liberty of all, he convened an assembly of representatives of all the inhabitants, regardless of colour. this won over the leaders, and finally peace was concluded with toussaint. the fallen president wished to retire to his estate and into private life, but having been cordially invited to meet the general to discuss with him the welfare of the colony, he was seized at the interview and put on board a french frigate, which immediately sailed for france. here he was imprisoned for life without trial, and finally allowed to starve by withholding food and water for four days. the negroes again rose, and the soldiers were by this time so weakened by yellow fever, which even carried off the governor, that little could be done against the rebels. yet everything possible was attempted. bloodhounds were brought from cuba to worry the rebels to death; they were shot and taken into the sea to be drowned in strings. dessalines had now become their leader, and on the th of november, , he with christophe and clervaux, the other rebel chiefs, issued the st. domingo declaration of independence. restored to their primitive dignity the black and coloured people proclaimed their rights, and swore never to yield them to any power on earth. "the frightful veil of prejudice is torn to pieces, and is so for ever; woe be to whomsoever would dare again to put together its bloody tatters." the landholders were not forbidden to return if they renounced their old errors and acknowledged the justice of the cause for which the blacks had been spilling their blood for twelve years. as for those who affected to believe themselves destined by heaven to be masters and tyrants, if they came it would be to meet chains or to be quickly expelled. they had sworn not to listen to clemency for those who dared to speak of the restoration of slavery. nothing was too costly a sacrifice for liberty, and every means was lawful to employ against those who wished to suppress it. were they to cause rivers and torrents of blood to flow--were they to fire half the globe to maintain it--they would be innocent before the tribunal of providence. this declaration was followed on the th of march, , by an address of dessalines, in which he said that everything that reminded them of france also reminded them of the cruelties of frenchmen. there still remained, he said, frenchmen on their island--creatures, alas! of their indulgence; when would they be tired of breathing the same air? their cruelty, when compared with the patient moderation of the blacks--their difference in colour--everything said that they were not brothers, and would never become so. if they continued to find an asylum, troubles and dissensions would be sure to continue. "citizens, inhabitants of hayti, men, women, girls, children, cast your eyes upon each point of the island! seek in it, you, your wives; you, your husbands; you, your sisters!" their ashes were in the grave, and they had not avenged their deaths. let the blacks learn that they had done nothing if they did not give the nations a terrible but just example of the vengeance of a brave people, who had recovered liberty, and were jealous to maintain it. they were again roused, and from the th of april to the th of may an indiscriminate massacre of the whites took place, as many as , being killed during the fifteen days. on the th of april dessalines issued a manifesto congratulating them on their success. at length, he said, the hour of vengeance had arrived, and the implacable enemies of the rights of man had suffered the punishment due to their crimes. his arm had too long delayed to strike, but at the signal, which the justice of god had urged, they had brought the axe to bear upon the ancient tree of slavery and prejudice. in vain had time and the infernal politics of europe surrounded it with triple brass. they had become, like their natural enemies, cruel and merciless. like a mighty torrent their vengeful fury had carried away everything in its impetuous course. "thus perish all tyrants over innocence and all oppressors of mankind!" where was that evil and unworthy haytian who thought he had not accomplished the decrees of the eternal by exterminating those bloodthirsty tigers? "if there be one, let him fly--indignant nature discards him from our bosom--let him hide his shame far from hence! the air we breathe is not suited to his gross organs--it is the pure air of liberty, august and triumphant." yes, they had rendered war for war, crime for crime, outrage for outrage. he had saved his country--he had avenged america. he made this avowal in the face of earth and heaven--it was his pride and glory. black and yellow, whom the duplicity of europeans had endeavoured to divide, now made but one family--he advised them to maintain that precious concord and happy harmony. in order to strengthen the tie let them call to remembrance the catalogue of atrocities--the abominable project of massacring the whole population, unblushingly proposed to him by the french authorities. let that nation which was mad enough to attack him, come--let them bring their cohorts of homicides. he would allow them to land, but woe to those who approached the mountains! "never again shall a colonist or a european set his foot upon this territory with the title of master or proprietor." on the th of october the writer of these bloodthirsty addresses was crowned as jacques the first, emperor of hayti. in an attempt was made on the part of spain to regain her old colony on the eastern part of the island, where france still maintained a nominal supremacy. spain was now an ally of great britain, and, with the aid of british troops, she took st. domingo and retained this part of the island until , when a revolution took place and it became independent, to be almost immediately united with its sister republic. meanwhile the emperor jacques did not long enjoy his throne in peace, for he was murdered by his coloured soldiers on the th of october, . a republic followed, under the presidency of general petion, who was at the head of the mulattoes, but did not agree with the blacks. this led to a division, the north, with cape françois as the capital, coming into the hands of the negro christophe, who got himself crowned as the emperor henry the first; the southern district, with port au prince, forming a republic under president petion. henry was a man of good common sense, but like most negroes, much inclined to ape the whites. one of his toasts at a dinner was characteristic: "my brother, the king of great britain, and may he be successful against buonaparte, and continue the barrier between that tyrant and this kingdom." he created a legion of honour, called the order of st. henry, built a palace, and began to acquire a fleet; he gave balls and encouraged operas, had a great seal, gave titles of nobility, and procured a set of regalia and jewels, with velvet robes and all other appendages of royalty. under his rule the country flourished, for he would have no idlers. yet he was a tyrant, and at last, in , he was attacked by his own guard, and committed suicide to prevent falling into their hands. president boyer, who had succeeded petion, now took advantage of the confusion to incorporate the two districts, and two years later he added the revolted spanish portion, thus bringing the whole island under one rule, the presidency of which he held for twenty-two years. [illustration] [illustration] xiii. emancipation of the spanish main. the influence of the french revolution was felt in most of the other islands, but nowhere did it lead to such disasters as befel hispaniola. in there was an insurrection in the island of grenada, where the coloured people, under french influence, nearly drove the english out of the colony. even when defeated they held their own in the mountains for about a year, committing many atrocities on the whites who fell into their hands. in most of the french islands there were insurrections more or less dangerous, some of which were put down by the british conquerors, who thus helped to keep the peace. it could not be expected, however, that small places like martinique and guadeloupe would ever have made such stubborn resistance as the great island of hispaniola. a very great impression was made on the spanish colonies, who during the war, owing to the distracted condition of the mother country, attained to a degree of freedom hitherto beyond their reach. this led to unfavourable comparisons between past and present, and the feeling that grew up was fomented by the british, who now had many opportunities from the measure of free trade which resulted from the peculiar circumstances of that period. secret societies were then common all over europe, and in spain they were not wanting. in the early years of this century one of the most energetic members was francisco miranda, a native of caracas, who had been a soldier under washington, and had distinguished himself by his prominence in many of the revolutionary projects of the time. he was the prime organiser of the creoles of south america, and under his auspices the "gran reunion americana" was founded in london. bolivar and san martin were initiated into this society, and took its oath to fight for the emancipation of south america. miranda did his best to ensure the co-operation of great britain and the united states, but failing in this, determined to get up one or more insurrections without their assistance. on the th of march, , he sailed with three vessels and two hundred men from jacmel, hayti, and on the th of april arrived at the dutch island of aruba, from whence the little company proceeded to puerto cabello. the demonstration, however, was nipped in the bud, for two of his vessels being almost immediately captured by the spaniards, miranda was obliged to fly in the other to barbados. here he met admiral cochrane, with whom he entered into an arrangement for british assistance. conceiving that it might be mutually advantageous to great britain and the spanish provinces that the latter should be freed from the yoke of spain, the admiral agreed to support him in a descent on venezuela, between the coasts opposite trinidad and aruba. the only stipulation was for free trade with great britain as against her enemies, and with that miranda went off to trinidad. here he hoped to gain recruits from among the spanish people of the island, to whom he issued an address. the glorious opportunity, he said, presented itself of relieving from oppression and arbitrary government a people who were worthy of a better fate, but who were shackled by a despotism too cruel for human nature longer to endure. groaning under their afflictions they hailed with extended arms the noble cause of freedom and independence, and called upon them to share the god-like action of relieving them. this stirring address made little impression, and consequently few followers were enrolled. however, he got eight armed vessels and two traders, and sailed from trinidad on the th of july, , for coro on the main. the fort and city were taken, but the people, instead of joyfully welcoming their deliverers, ran away and could not be induced to return. miranda, finding the place untenable, went over to aruba, of which he took possession as a basis for further operations. but the british authorities looked upon his scheme as impracticable, especially as it tended to injure their trade, and in november miranda was compelled to disband his little company of less than three hundred at trinidad. the time for a revolution had not yet arrived, but it was fast approaching. it could not be expected that great britain would assist filibustering against her ally, which spain now became, and without some outside assistance miranda found it impossible to do anything. however, the people themselves were at last aroused, and on the th of april, , the city of caracas deposed the captain-general and appointed a junta to rule in the name of the king. this body invited the other provinces to join and form a league for mutual protection against the french, who now had virtual possession of the mother country. other provinces took the government side and prepared to suppress the revolt, which led caracas to ask the assistance of great britain and the united states. among the venezuelans was simon bolivar, who afterwards became the most important personage in the struggle for independence. like miranda, he was a native of south america, and like him had imbibed revolutionary ideas in paris. he was a planter, and had taken no part in the overthrow of the captain-general, but from his principles being well known, he was appointed with others to proceed to london in the interests of the junta. on their arrival they were answered cautiously, the authorities not wishing to commit themselves under the circumstances. here bolivar met miranda, and took the oath of the "gran reunion," promising to work for the independence of south america, notwithstanding his nominal position as an advocate of the king of spain against napoleon. meanwhile the spanish regency had proclaimed the leaders of the movement to be rebels, declaring war against them and blockading their ports. the central junta responded by raising an army, which was defeated with considerable loss at coro and had to retire on caracas. this caused some discouragement, but miranda now arrived, was welcomed with an ovation, and appointed lieutenant-general of the army. he was also asked to draw up a constitution and to become one of the deputies at the first congress of venezuela to be held in march, . [illustration: la guayra on the main. (_from andrews' "west indies."_)] no longer was there any question of the french, the struggle was for entire independence. a civil war began, which raged with varying fortunes for twelve years, in the course of which were enacted scenes more worthy of the days of buccaneers than the beginning of the nineteenth century. in caracas was destroyed by an earthquake, and in another locality perished the greater portion of a thousand men, marching against the spaniards. it was reported that those provinces where the revolution had most influence suffered greatest, while those more loyal almost escaped. this was due to the fact that the mountainous region, in which caracas is situated, felt the full effect of the earthquake, but the priests, who were mostly loyalists, told the ignorant peasantry that it was a judgment on the patriots. the result was that large bodies deserted, until the whole patriot army became disorganised. miranda was captured and sent to spain, where he died in prison in , but bolivar managed to escape. new granada had revolted before venezuela and was more successful. it was to this province that bolivar retired after the downfall of the patriot cause in venezuela. then the spanish captain-general, monteverde, who was called "the pacificator," commenced his work by imprisoning so many patriots that the gaols were choked, and many died of hunger and suffocation. in the country districts he let his troops ravage and plunder like hordes of banditti. even his superiors were at length compelled to recall him on account of the numerous complaints and petitions. at last the people were again fairly roused, until there came a war of extermination, in which both parties tried to outvie the other in murder and rapine. off the peninsula of paria lay the small island of chacachacare, and on it forty-five fugitives took refuge, where they consulted as to the renewal of the war. with only six muskets and some pistols, they landed on the coast on the th of march, , surprised the guard of güiria, took their arms and marched into the town, where they were joined by the garrison, making their number two hundred. thus began the second war, in which the patriots, assisted by the return of bolivar and a body of troops from new granada, again took possession of a large part of the province. on the th of june bolivar proclaimed extermination to the royalists, and named the year, the third of independence and first of the war to the death. this severity created many enemies in venezuela, as well as in other countries, and even bolivar himself afterwards said that the proclamation had been issued in a delirium. however, the result was that both sides became more ferocious than ever, especially when the indians were induced to join the patriots. on the th of august bolivar entered caracas in triumph. the bells rang, cannons roared, and the people cheered him as their liberator. his path was strewn with flowers, blessings were called down upon his head, and beautiful girls, dressed in white and the national colours, led his horse and crowned him with laurel. the prison doors were opened, the patriots set free, and, in spite of his proclamation, no act of retaliation sullied his triumph. two days later he re-established the republic and proclaimed himself dictator as well as liberator. there were now two dictators in venezuela, marino in the east and bolivar in the west, but the spaniards were by no means conquered. bolivar published another decree on the th of september, that all americans who were even suspected of being royalists were traitors to their country, and should be treated as such. ten days later twelve thousand men arrived from spain, and bolivar, who had been besieging puerto cabello, was forced to retire. this encouraged the royalists, who got the llaneros of the orinoco on their side by promises of freedom to kill and plunder in the cause of the king, and threats of punishing by death all who disregarded the call to arms. bolivar was captain-general, but he shared his power with marino, the rights of both resting on force alone. to put an end to this, an assembly of notables was convened at caracas, to whom he resigned his office, and then accepted it again at their request. but the patriots, even when united, were as yet unable to stand before the spanish army, and very shortly afterwards their flag was only visible on the island of margarita. bolivar again took refuge in new granada, where he was elected captain-general, and entitled liberator and illustrious pacificator. he, however, quarrelled with the governor of carthagena, and was forced to fly to jamaica, saying before his departure that carthagena preferred her own destruction to obedience to the federal government. in , after the great peace, marshal morillo came out with , men selected from the army that had fought against napoleon. he was to reduce the whole of the main from spanish guiana to darien, dealing first with margarita. in the course of a year he did this, committing such atrocities as made his name a byword over the whole of south america. in the siege of carthagena, which lasted about three months, the patriots suffered greatly, hundreds dying of starvation; but at last, on the th of december, , it was captured. an amnesty was proclaimed, but in spite of that four hundred old men, women, and children who surrendered were all killed, while most of the stronger men who survived managed to escape. the remnant of the patriots was now scattered over the country as guerillas, and while morillo was subduing new granada a fresh signal for a general revolt was given. the royalist governor, in november, , ordered the arrest of arismendi, who had been pardoned, and at once the margaritans rose, took possession of a part of the island, captured the fort, and killed the whole garrison. at the same time the guerillas united under paez, who now came to the front as a llanero and leader of his class. thus the struggle was resumed with all its former virulence. bolivar, when he heard of the fall of carthagena, went over to hispaniola to meet president petion, who was an ardent supporter of the revolution. here he received assistance of arms and money, with which he began to fit out an expedition to recover his lost position. there were many refugees from the main on that island, but they were not altogether friendly with the late dictator, however petion managed to secure their co-operation. it followed, therefore, that on the th of march, , three hundred patriots left for margarita, where they captured two spanish vessels and united with their fellow-countrymen under arismendi. going over to the main they soon got together a powerful force which overran the whole country and ultimately achieved its independence. but before this happened the patriots met with many reverses. sometimes it appeared as if they would be utterly exterminated; then the tide turned in their favour and they were again successful. the country was devastated by both parties, until cultivation was abandoned in many districts. provisions for the armies were often unattainable, and this drove the soldiers to plunder wherever there was an opportunity, no matter that the sufferers were of their own party. the struggle was watched with sympathy by the people of england, and canning went so far as to make a declaration of neutrality favourable to the patriots. then came a systematic attempt to raise british volunteers, and, as there were many officers and men who had been disbanded since the great peace, a considerable force was raised. carried away by enthusiasm they would hear nothing of the difficulties and dangers they had to encounter, but rushed to fight in the ranks of a people striving to liberate themselves from the grossest oppression. the country was represented as a perfect paradise, and the officers were promised grants of land in this delightful eden, while the men had offers of double the pay of the british army. a similar call was also made in germany with good results, and it was expected that what with the british legion and this other contingent the result would be no longer doubtful. on their arrival at margarita, however, they at once began to perceive that poverty reigned everywhere, and that no provision whatever had been made for them. the patriots foraged for themselves, and anything like a commissariat was virtually unknown; but british soldiers were not accustomed to such a state of things. then the food supply was at the best only live cattle, which they had to kill for themselves, cassava bread, and a few roots such as yams. the rations were so irregular, that one or two days would pass without any supply whatever, and this ultimately led to complaints and something like a mutiny, which was put down with the "cat." after some delay the british legion was sent on to the main, where they were worse off than in margarita. instead of welcoming them, the patriots seemed to be jealous, and did not even give them the opportunity of fighting as they wished. when posted before cumaná they were exposed to the burning sun and drenching rains, without tents or any other shelter; their drinking water was stagnant and brackish, and for rations had only a pound of beef per day for each man, from oxen which they had to butcher. they were also greatly shocked at the enormities of the patriots, who carried on the struggle in a manner suggestive of the middle ages rather than modern days. prisoners were indiscriminately massacred, their murderers enjoying the work as if it were a recreation. it is true that in the then condition of the country large bodies of prisoners could neither be fed nor guarded; still the british could not but feel that the cause they had joined was not altogether what it had been represented. want of proper food led to sickness, and soon they became quite broken down. many died of fever and dysentery, some deserted and got away as best they could, the general result being that little benefit was derived from the british legion by venezuela. if such was the experience of the foreigners, what must have been that of the patriots? they were certainly more used to the country and its food, and therefore suffered less from sickness; but this advantage was lost when it came to actual starvation. with the men engaged in the struggle, only the women and children were left to cultivate enough cassava to keep body and soul together. even this little was often stolen by a foraging party, who did not hesitate to murder the whole family if any objection was made. fugitives, if not cut off, made their way in canoes to trinidad and demerara, often arriving almost dead from the privations they had endured. delicate spanish ladies and little children sometimes arrived--their pitiable condition causing an outflow of sympathy from the planters, and a feeling of detestation for their persecutors. at the commencement of the year the columbian republic had become an accomplished fact, and on the th of november an armistice was concluded between morillo and bolivar, which virtually ended the struggle. the united states had looked upon it with favour, and lafayette in france said that opposition to the independence of the new world would only cause suffering, but not imperil the idea. in the celebrated monroe doctrine was formulated, and canning said in the same year that the battle was won and spanish america was free. central america had not suffered like venezuela and new granada. from mexico to panama was the old captain-generalship of guatemala, but little interest was taken in the province, spain leaving it almost entirely in the hands of the catholic missions. it was not until columbia had gained her independence that guatemala moved in the same direction, although there were slight disturbances in costa rica and nicaragua from to . at first there was a project to found a kingdom, but this gave way to the proposal for union with mexico under the emperor iturbide, which was carried out, but did not last long. in central america established a federal republic, and at once abolished slavery and declared the slave-trade to be piracy--a decision to which the other revolted colonies came about the same time. [illustration] xiv. abolition of slavery. negro slavery, although it formed the sinews and backbone of the plantations, was, as we have seen, considered unjust by the french republicans and immoral by a large section of the benevolent in great britain and the united states. in both countries the society of friends, or quakers, commenced to influence public opinion against its continuance as early as about , and had it not been for the french revolution it is probable that emancipation would have taken place early in this century. the premature and inconsiderate action of the french in hayti lost to france her most valuable plantation, for some years giving such an example of what might happen were emancipation to be granted elsewhere, that those in favour of the system could always point to it with the finger of warning. yet with all that the friends of the slave were undaunted; and as a beginning, in , they procured the abolition of the slave-trade as far as great britain and her colonies were concerned, and then went on to get the traffic prohibited by other nations. denmark had led the van by declaring it unlawful as early as , but little impression was made until the nation most concerned took action. this was a great blow to the british west indies. the labour question had always been of the first importance, and to put a sudden stop to the supply meant a check to all progress. for twenty years before a great impetus had been given to planting, which was much assisted by the downfall of hayti and consequent reduction of her produce to such an extent that she no longer affected the market. now that the planters could get no more negroes, anything like enlargement of the acreage under cultivation was impossible. latterly, also, produce had diminished in price, which made cheap labour all the more important. they had great difficulty in making their estates pay, and when sugar fell to half its former value a cry of "ruin!" went forth all over the west indies. it is interesting to note that the panacea which they expected would save them was free trade. at that time the british warehouses were filled with sugar and other tropical produce, while every continental port was closed by napoleon, and the united states by the navigation laws. not only did great britain store the produce of her own colonies, but that from those of the french and dutch as well. in it was stated that the sugar consumption of great britain amounted to , hogsheads, while the production of her colonies was , in excess of this. the southern states had just taken up cotton cultivation, and brought the price of that article too low for the west indian planter, and, as if that were not enough, coffee also fell in price to an alarming extent. sugar paid best, and was therefore fostered to the exclusion of the other products; and now began the plantation system which became so obnoxious to the anti-slavery party. hitherto, with a full supply of labour, the negroes did little work as compared with their capabilities--now something like the factory system of the mother country was introduced. the old methods would no longer enable the planter to get a profit, and he must make the best of his labour supply. great administrative ability, more careful management, attention to economy, and concentration, were all necessary to prevent losses, and that these were not wanting can easily be seen from the results. the slaves were driven into the field in gangs, and kept at work by the threat of the driver's whip, while the overseers and manager gave most careful attention to the whole system. not only did the negroes work, but the whites also; in fact, on the part of the latter there was a continual strain after a fortune on which to retire from this tiresome and harassing work of nigger-driving. where one succeeded, ten failed; many died of the exposure and of the _anti-malarial_ drinks they imbibed so plentifully. so great was the mortality that the colonies became proverbial for their number of widows, some of whom, however, were not above managing their own plantations. it was a race for wealth, to which everything else was secondary. the slaves diminished every year in the absence of additions from outside, as the whites would have done under similar circumstances. that there was no natural increase was mainly due to the fact that the sexes were unequal, and then, again, maternal affection was sadly wanting in the women, who seemed to care less for their children than some domestic animals. this state of things was mainly the outcome of the system, which was undoubtedly immoral, but the mental disabilities of the race must also be taken into consideration. the anti-slavery party considered that environment was everything; if they could only free the negro from compulsory servitude he would at once become an industrious labourer. yes, in their opinion, if he had the incentive of wages, it would make him a credit to himself and his community. the slaves, they said, were worked to death, yet as free men they would do more and perform their tasks better. their experience with free workmen led to these conclusions, but this could not apply to the west indies nor to the negro race. the anti-slavery party was very strong, and although it is not stated that they took "perish the colonies!" for their motto, it is very certain that they cared little about the future of either white or black as long as they carried their object. to this end every possible case of oppression and ill-treatment was exaggerated, and spoken of as if it were common, notwithstanding that the case only came to their notice through the trial and punishment of the offender. the fact was the planter could not afford to ill-treat his slave--no other animal of his live stock was of so much value. if a valuable horse were killed another could be obtained to replace him, but this was almost impossible in the case of the negro. formerly, when he cost about £ , it might have paid to work him to death; now that his price was five or six times as much, self-interest alone prevented ill-treatment. there was a strong public opinion in every colony which prevented cruelty, and there were societies in some which gave prizes to those in charge of estates who raised the greatest number of children in proportion to their negroes. this breeding of negroes was necessarily very slow work, and did little to make up for the stoppage of importation. it followed, therefore, that every year the amount of available labour became less. in the anti-slavery party commenced a further agitation in favour of the negro, with the result that a registrar of slaves was appointed for each colony, and ultimately a protector. by obtaining an annual census they hoped to have some check on the decrease, and at the same time see if any africans were surreptitiously imported. in some places there was already a slave registration for the purpose of adjusting the head-tax; here the planters did not oppose the measure, although they resented interference. others, like barbados, protested against the innovation as something quite unnecessary, or even if desirable, not to be imposed upon them from outside. this led to a great deal of discussion at the planters' tables, where the slave waiters listened to what was said, and from thence carried garbled reports to the others. in every colony were numbers of free negroes and coloured people, some of whom were loafers and spongers on the slaves, while others went about the country peddling. having nothing to do, they became the news-carriers and circulators of garbled reports. in there lived in barbados a free coloured man named washington franklin, who, like many negroes, was possessed of a good memory and a great power of declamation. getting hold of the english and colonial newspapers, he would read the speeches of wilberforce and others, and after putting his own construction on them, retail them in language tending to rouse the slaves. to him was due an impression that prevailed in barbados, probably from a misunderstanding of the registry bill, that they were all to be free at the beginning of the year . when new year's day had passed they became dissatisfied, believing that their masters had received orders to set them free, but would not execute them. they had heard of the successful rising in hayti, and were determined to attempt a similar revolt in barbados. after waiting for the expected freedom until the th of april, they determined on that day to have a general rising, which was signalled by burning heaps of cane-trash in the parish of st. philip. soon the fields were set on fire, and frenzied mobs, continually increasing in numbers, went from one plantation to another seeking arms. this went on for two days, but on the arrival of the militia they dispersed, leaving a waste behind. as usual a great many of the negroes were executed, although it does not appear that any whites got killed in the revolt. however, the registry act was delayed for two years, to be ultimately passed in january, . towards the end of the last century a new class of men appeared in the west indies--the protestant missionaries. catholic missions had been established in the spanish possessions since the time of columbus, but hitherto, with the exception of a few moravians, no other church had done anything to convert the slaves in the british colonies. between and , methodist societies were established in most of the islands, notwithstanding the opposition of the planters, who in some cases appear to have thought that baptized christians could no longer be held in slavery. this vulgar error, however, was not the real cause of the antagonism to these teachers, but rather the feeling natural to a master which makes him resent any outside interference between himself and his servants. the best and kindest were the first to feel this. the slaves were their children, and to them they applied, in all their troubles and difficulties, as to a great father. it followed, therefore, that when the missionaries came and proclaimed themselves friends to the slaves, giving them advice in secular as well as religious matters, the cordial feeling was broken. "massa" was much put out, for he liked to hold the position of a little god to these poor ignorant creatures over whom he held such power. the slaves were sometimes whipped as bad children when they did wrong, and as children they cared little for a flogging. it is easily conceivable that a humane missionary might feel more pain at witnessing such a punishment than the culprit himself, but it is a fact that cruel punishment was never mentioned by the slaves as an excuse for a revolt. the missionaries were shocked at the apparent nakedness and destitution of the negroes, as a visitor to the west indies will be even now. they did not remember that their clothing and houses were well suited to the climate, and that a home in the english sense of the word would not have been appreciated by them. these things were reported to the societies at home, the members of which knew no more about the tropics than the merchant who once sent a consignment of warming-pans to barbados. those who wanted to raise a cry of cruelty to the poor slave, circulated these facts, and put their own construction upon them, one going so far as to state that there were no chimneys to the houses, as if this omission were a slave disability or oppression, although any visitor to the colonies could have told him that these conveniences were hardly found anywhere. the negro willingly listened to his friend the missionary, and felt eager to perform the rites and ceremonies of the little congregation. the established church was that of england, and although in some places there were special services for the blacks, in others "slaves and dogs" were refused admission. this exclusiveness threw the slaves into the hands of the moravians, baptists, methodists, and the agents of the london missionary society. the church government of some of these was in the hands of the congregation, and as this was a sort of playing at "massa," the slave took to them all the more readily. no doubt these ministers were very good men, and animated by a great love for the negroes, but this did not prevent their being misunderstood by both master and slave. then many of them were connected with the anti-slavery society, and however careful they might be not to offend local prejudices, by speaking against the obnoxious system, as conscientious men they could not help showing their bias. the established clergymen, on the contrary, when they preached to the slaves, told them to "be subject to the powers that be," and to remain content in the condition where providence had placed them. at first most of the planters only sneered at these attempts to convert the slaves, but when they saw what an attraction the chapels became, they opposed them openly. gangs of young fellows would attend, and sometimes break up the meetings by jeering at the preacher. in an ordinance was passed in jamaica "for preventing the profanation of religious rites and false worshipping of god, under the pretence of preaching and teaching, by illiterate, ignorant, and ill-disposed persons, and of the mischief consequent thereupon." considering it the first duty of all magistrates to encourage the solemn exercise of religion, and whereas nothing tended more to bring it into disrepute than the pretended preaching and expounding of the word of god by ignorant persons and false enthusiasts, to persons of colour and slaves, it was enacted that, after the st of july, no unauthorised person should presume to teach, preach, offer public prayer, or sing psalms to any assembly of these people, on pain of a fine of a hundred pounds, imprisonment for six months, or whipping. similar punishments were also to be inflicted on any one preaching in an unlicensed building, as well as on the owner of a house or yard in which it had been permitted. another way of stopping the assembly of slaves was to pass a law against their meeting at night, and punish them if they left the estate without a written permission. there were always excuses for this apparent harshness, as plots had been arranged at nocturnal meetings, some of which had given a great deal of trouble. even if a pass were granted to attend chapel, the estate's authorities could hardly be expected to follow and see that the slave did not go elsewhere. the missionaries took it that all this was done to hamper their work, but such was not the case altogether. the anti-slavery party became very strong about the year , and every obnoxious regulation was a text for discourses on the infamy of the whole system. if a planter were punished, the case was trumpeted over the country to promote a greater antagonism. how absurd this really was could only be seen by the west indians themselves, and if they attempted to say anything they were put down as liars, becaused they were biassed in favour of the other side. one writer pertinently remarked that, among the hundreds of military and naval officers stationed in the west indies, not one had borne out the statements of the missionaries, and we may call attention to the curious fact that captain marryat, who was well acquainted with every colony, speaks always of the negro as a happy fellow. the genial novelist does not mince matters when he speaks of oppression on board ship, and it is not to be supposed that he would go out of his way to screen the planters. some of the colonies passed laws against indiscriminate manumissions, and these were declaimed against as tyranny. yet their wisdom was so patent that, under the system, they could only be heartily approved by every one competent to judge. there is one little fact that stands out most prominently as a redeeming point, if such a thing be possible--under slavery there was no poverty--there were no tramps nor beggars. the owner of the plantation had to feed his people in sickness and in health, in childhood and old age. if manumissions could be given by the mere stroke of a pen, many a poor sick or broken-down creature would have been cast adrift to become a burden upon the community. now and again we yet hear some old woman complain that if this were slavery time, she would not be half-starved as she is to-day, notwithstanding the poor relief. it may perhaps be thought that we are attempting the defence of slavery; we only wish to show that it was not quite so black as it has been painted. it had its dark side; but, on the other hand, many a bright gleam can be perceived by those who have seen some who were born into servitude and heard their stories. they were well fed, had as much clothing as they really required, were as a matter of policy well treated as a rule, and were quite as happy as they are to-day. magistrates, policemen, and gaols were almost unknown; the planter gave the negro a slight flogging now and then, and this ended the tale of his misdemeanours. a bad master might be cruel as a bad husband may be also, but we should not condemn marriage on account of its abuses. the great argument against slavery was the degradation it produced on the minds of both parties. however, we are not writing the history of slavery, but the story of the west indies, and must apologise for the digression. in the house of commons, on a motion of fowell buxton, "that the state of slavery is repugnant to the principles of the british constitution, and of the christian religion," resolved to ameliorate the condition of the slave by giving him civil rights and privileges. as a result of this, orders were sent out to abolish the flogging of women, and discontinue the use of the whip in the field. already the west indian planters were alarmed at the interference of the british government, and the overriding of colonial laws by orders in council. in they had petitioned against being compelled to manumit their slaves in cases where they wished to buy their freedom, but their protests went for nothing. now also they had to submit, although they did so with a bad grace. the british government left the carrying out of the provisions of the resolutions to the colonial legislatures, but at the same time giving them to understand that there was no option. in , when the governor and court of policy of demerara neglected to issue a proclamation allowing negroes to attend chapel in the evening, they received a sharp reprimand, and the governor was superseded; now they knew that nothing was left but to obey orders. when, therefore, the despatch containing these resolutions arrived in demerara, a meeting of the legislature was at once convened to prepare the necessary ordinance. there was no attempt to evade this duty or delay compliance, but such a radical change required great consideration, especially in regard to the control of females without the use of the whip. negresses were, as a rule, less amenable to discipline than the men, and it was thought that something must be done to prevent insubordination. several meetings took place from the st of july, , to early in august, at which the ordinance was prepared and passed, but up to the th of the latter month it had not been published. such a delay, however, did not imply any intention of evading the duty, for three or four weeks often elapse from the time of passing to the publication of a bill. meanwhile the negroes got an idea that something had been done in england for their benefit. like the slaves in barbados and other colonies, they heard discussions at their masters' tables, and supposed that the something which had taken place meant their total emancipation. "the king had freed them, but the planters refused to carry out the order." on the east coast of demerara there was then a small chapel belonging to the london missionary society, under the charge of the rev. john smith. this chapel was a rendezvous for the negroes of the neighbouring plantations, who not only came to service, but met afterwards for a little gossip. some who could read gave their ideas of what they had gleaned from their masters' newspapers, while others told what had been said at the dinner-tables. it does not appear that mr. smith had told them anything of the new resolutions, nor is there evidence that the deacons of the chapel knew of them. it followed, therefore, that all the information they had was these garbled reports of their own people. on sunday, the th of august, a number of the bolder spirits met after service and discussed a plot which had been already under consideration, for a general rising at eight o'clock next evening. their idea was to put their masters in the stocks, arm themselves, and, when the governor came, demand their supposed rights. on monday morning a coloured servant informed his master of the plot, on which he at once rode off to georgetown and interviewed the governor. warnings were sent to most of the planters, and preparations made to suppress the revolt if it took place, but such reports were not uncommon, and although the whites looked after their weapons they did not feel much alarm. as a matter of policy it was better to assume indifference, as anything like desertion of the estates, even so far as the sending away of women and children, would have encouraged the negroes. the signal was given by a fire near the chapel, on which the slaves assembled in great mobs, over-powered their masters, put them in the stocks, and took all the firearms and other weapons they could find. the governor was already in the neighbourhood with a small party of cavalry, and on seeing the signal proceeded to inquire into its meaning. on the way he was met by an armed mob, who, on being asked what they wanted, answered, "our right!" he told them of the new law, and promised a full explanation on the morrow if they would disperse and come to him at a neighbouring plantation. there was a slight hesitation for a few moments, but presently, with cries of "no! no!" and the blowing of shells, they drowned his voice. then some of the more moderate advised him to go away, which he was obliged to do, as his whole company numbered hardly a dozen. bearing in mind the disasters of the berbice insurrection, the people of georgetown were much alarmed. placing their women and children on board vessels in the river, the men prepared to resist to the death. martial law was proclaimed, and every person, without distinction, called upon to enrol at once in the militia, all exemptions being cancelled. they responded heartily, and soon the town put on an appearance as if deserted, except at those places where guards were stationed. the stores were closed, the slaves kept indoors, and, save for the arrival and departure of mounted orderlies, not a sound could be heard. even the negroes themselves, in their kitchens and outbuildings, were overawed, and hardly spoke above a whisper. the methodist ministers came forward and enrolled themselves in the militia, but they were not called upon to perform any duty. the rev. john smith, however, took no notice of the proclamation, although he admitted having seen it. on the evening of the revolt he went for a walk with his wife, and on his return found that the manager's house was being attacked by a mob of slaves. he succeeded by expostulation in preventing their doing much injury, and even rescued the manager from their hands, but instead of sending notice of the rising to the neighbouring estates he went quietly home. as far as he knew no one had been warned of the revolt, and he was certainly remiss in his duty when he did nothing whatever. when, on the following day, he was visited by a militia officer, and ordered to enrol himself in accordance with the governor's proclamation, he refused on the ground of his exemption, although he knew that all exemptions had been cancelled. as usual the rebels had no proper leaders, and for some reason or other--the missionaries ascribed it to religious teaching--they did not burn the houses or destroy the crops. one or two whites who resisted were wounded, one at least fatally, but here again the insurgents were forbearing. fortunately they were soon suppressed, and this no doubt prevented such atrocities as had been committed elsewhere. what with the soldiers, the militia, and crews of vessels in the river, the force brought against them was overwhelming. only one attempt was made to fight, but the first volley of the troops sent the rioters scattering into a cotton field. in about two days the insurrection was over, and then came the hunt for fugitives, who as usual took to the swamp at the back of the estates. a large body of indians was employed, and in the end most of them were captured, some to be hanged at once and others after sentence by court-martial. mr. smith's behaviour was considered as something more than suspicious--he was believed to have had knowledge of the plot, and charged with an intention to side with the negroes if he saw any prospect of their success. on his refusal to take part in the defence of the colony he was taken prisoner, and after the negroes had been tried and sentenced, his case was brought before a court-martial. he was charged with promoting discontent among the slaves, conspiring to bring about a revolt, knowing of the plot the day before and not reporting it, and holding communication with one of the leaders after it had broken out without attempting to capture him. the case created a great stir, public opinion being universal that he was the prime mover in the whole affair. his trial lasted over a month, at the end of which he was found guilty and sentenced to be hanged. this sentence, however, seems to have been given to satisfy the people; it was not published, nor was it intended to be executed without reference to the home government. this is proved by the report in the "royal gazette" of the colony, which stated that the trial was over, but the nature of the proceedings was such as to render it imperative on the governor to transmit them for his majesty's consideration. the public were not informed of the verdict, but it is not to be supposed that they were ignorant of the result of the trial; on the contrary, the sentence met with their approval, and they complained of the delay in carrying it out, as compared with the hasty executions of the negroes. mr. smith was ultimately reprieved, on the understanding that he removed himself from the west indies, and engaged never to come back to guiana or go to any of the islands. but the poor missionary was sick, and under treatment before the insurrection, and it may be presumed that the worry of the trial hastened his end. he died in prison before the king's answer arrived, and was buried at night to prevent a hostile demonstration. we have been thus particular in giving the facts of the demerara east coast insurrection, because it made such an impression in england. the anti-slavery party used the case of the "martyr" smith as a watchword, and it was a prime factor in hurrying on emancipation. the immediate result was an order in council to enable slaves to contract legal marriage, to hold property, to buy their freedom on a valuation by disinterested parties, and to put them under a protector, whose duty was to see that their rights were not infringed. they were now citizens, their only civil disabilities being compulsory labour and a tie to the plantation or their masters. this, however, did not satisfy the anti-slavery party, and they went on with their struggle for total emancipation, in which they at last succeeded. in an act of parliament was passed, by which, after the st of august, , slavery was to give place to an apprenticeship of four or six years, according to the status of the slave, the former term for house-servants and the latter for labourers on the plantations, or "predials." every child born after that date was to be entirely free, and here came in one of the greatest blemishes of the law. these poor infants belonged to nobody; their mothers cared little for them, and it could not be expected that the planters would pay to keep up the old system of superintendence. even those who had been instrumental in getting the law passed now began to make comparisons between the position of the child-bearing woman under the old and new systems. hitherto they were unable to find words harsh enough to use in condemning slavery--now they began to find that it had its good points. then the new system required new administrators, and, to prevent any suspicion of bias, magistrates were brought from england. yet these very same unbiassed gentlemen ordered flogging for the men and the treadmill and dark cell for the women. the quaker delegates sent out to inspect the result of their work were horrified. they said that the cat was worse than the old whip, and that the apprenticeship system caused ten times more suffering than slavery. and such was really the case. the negroes could no longer be kept under subordination--they even claimed entire freedom at once. several disturbances took place before they could be made to understand that they had to work seven and a half hours every day, to pay for their homes, provision grounds, and other allowances. in demerara the governor addressed them as erring children, telling them that they could not all be masters, and that every one must work. they had never seen a white man handle the shovel or the hoe--he was free--now they had attained to the same condition, the same coveted freedom from hard labour must be theirs also. true, there were free negroes, some of whom had learnt trades, but even they were above working in the field. why should free negroes work? certainly not for their wives and children. the women got their allowances, and the planter had hitherto looked after the children. the negro had no house rent to pay, his two suits of clothing came regularly every year, and if he was sick the doctor attended to him. except to deck himself with finery, he had no use for money; a few would work overtime when they wanted something of that sort, but the majority did as little as possible. [illustration: the first of august. (_from madden's "west indies."_)] in , when the house servants were to be freed, while the predials must serve two years longer, the difficulties of such an arrangement became insurmountable. a daughter or wife might be entirely free, and the father or husband an "apprentice." then came the difficulty of classification, which the commissioners appointed to arrange the divisions necessarily decided against the opinion of one or the other disputant, driving him to appeal. all this rendered a continuance of the system impossible, and slavery was terminated altogether on the st of august, , the planters receiving from the british people twenty millions sterling as compensation, being about one-third of the estimated value of the slaves. the french had received such a lesson from the revolt of hayti that they did little for their negroes. however, after the downfall of louis philippe in , the revolutionary government abolished slavery throughout the colonies, without compensation. [illustration: a relic of the slavery days--old slave buying fish.] after freedom had been secured in the british colonies the slaves in neighbouring places naturally became discontented. there were not many desertions from the islands, but in guiana, where the dutch negroes were slaves on one side of the river corentyne, and the british free on the other, the runaways from the former caused a great deal of trouble to the dutch. whenever an opportunity occurred, a party of slaves stole a boat and made off to the british side, until the surinam planters became much alarmed. ultimately a dutch gunboat was stationed at the boundary river, and this put an end to the migration. some of the islands were much affected, especially those of the danes, which were frequented by british vessels, and were largely english in their sympathies. here the negroes soon learnt what had happened, and began to express dissatisfaction with their own position. however, denmark saw that something had to be done, and in enacted laws for gradual emancipation in her islands. from the th of july of that year all children born of slaves were to be free, and at the end of twelve years from that time slavery was to cease altogether. this did not satisfy the negroes, who became more discontented, and in an insurrection took place on the island of st. croix. on the nd of july it was rumoured that the slaves would refuse to work next day, and in the evening the whites were alarmed by the ringing of bells and blowing of conch shells. at first it was considered as an alarm of fire, but on inquiry the whites found that the negroes had revolted, and were demanding their freedom. later, people came in from the country districts with the news that there were noisy demonstrations, but that as yet no actual violence had been committed. so little alarm was as yet felt that no precautions were taken, although some persons became uneasy. next morning the negroes streamed into christiansted in great numbers, and commenced to demolish the police office. an officer coming into town was attacked by a woman with an axe, which fortunately missed him, but the crowd was so good-humoured that, on his treating the matter coolly he was allowed to pass: this apparent good feeling made the authorities hesitate in taking extreme measures, even when the mob came round the fort, shouting and calling for freedom. now, however, they began to collect trash for the purpose of setting fire to a house, and the stadthauptman and a roman catholic priest went among them to try remonstrances. all the answer they got was that the slaves could not fight the soldiers, but they intended to burn and destroy everything if freedom were not given them. one of the mob carried a british flag as an emblem of liberty, and several english sailors were reported as forming part of the crowd. soon all their good-humour was gone, and they commenced plundering the stores, the whites running away to vessels in the harbour. about three o'clock in the afternoon the governor arrived from st. thomas, and went among the crowd telling them that they were free, at the same time ordering them to disperse quietly. for a few hours there was a lull, but next morning they reassembled in the country districts as if in doubt whether the governor really meant what he had said. some planters now brought their families to town, leaving their houses to be plundered. parties of soldiers were sent out, and hundreds of prisoners were taken, the mobs, which in some cases numbered two or three thousand, dispersing at their appearance. martial law was declared, porto rico sent six hundred spanish troops, the insurrection was at last quelled, and peace restored. the governor stood his trial in denmark, to be acquitted, and to have his declaration of complete emancipation confirmed. slavery still continued in the dutch possessions until , and even then it was only replaced by compulsory labour for ten years, leaving the final emancipation until . yet with all that there were no disturbances to hurry on the process or cause trouble. in cuba a law was passed in to give freedom to all above the age of sixty, as well as to children born after the passing of the act. this, however, was not enforced on account of internal dissensions, and although porto rico gave her slaves their liberty on the rd of march, , the cuban emancipation bill was not passed by the spanish senate until february, , and under that law slavery only came to an end on the th of october, . [illustration] [illustration] xv. results of emancipation. the slave emancipation was a terrible blow to the west indies, and one from which many of the islands have not yet recovered. it was, the planters said, the second attempt to ruin them, the first having been the abolition of the slave-trade. the party who brought it about looked to see their _protégées_ become a contented, hard-working peasantry, in place of driven cattle, as they called them. the planters, on the contrary, were morally certain that as free men they would not work, and without a labour supply their estates would be utterly ruined. the british taxpayer grumbled at having to pay twenty millions, but this was a mere sop for the estate owners. with the loss of their human chattels the plantations in many cases became utterly valueless; for the negroes congregated round certain centres, leaving most of the outlying places without enough people to keep up the cultivation. labour had been degraded by the system, and now the full effects of such influence began to be felt. [illustration: negress, guiana.] [illustration: negress fish-sellers, guiana.] the compensation money, in many cases, went towards paying off mortgages and other claims, the holders of which saw the impending ruin and hastened to save themselves as far as possible. but it was not enough even for that, for many plantations had liens of half the appraised value of the land, buildings, and slaves. the last security being entirely gone the others became worthless, and, as no one cared to advance money on such risks, the nominal owners could not even get as much as to pay wages. a plantation valued at perhaps £ , a few years before, and easily mortgaged for half that amount, received £ , for compensation with which to pay off the claim, and then wanted cash to carry on as well. banks were established, but only solvent estates could get help from them, and consequently hundreds were abandoned in the larger colonies, and hardly one, with the exception of those in barbados, could produce as much sugar as formerly. west indian nabobs, who had been getting their ten thousand a year and living in england, went out to see what could be done. their incomes were entirely gone, and with them all hopes for the future. widows and children lost their only means of support, and ruin fell on hundreds of families in england as well as in the west indies. but not only did this downfall affect the owners and their relations, but merchants as well. old firms shook to their very foundations, while many became bankrupt, to bring suffering to the homes of thousands who had hardly known of the sugar colonies beyond the invectives of the anti-slavery society. many who had been strong advocates of emancipation now wished they had never said anything about it, but the die was cast, and there could never again be anything like the shilly-shallying of the french at hayti. [illustration: chinese wood-carrier.] [illustration: east indian coolie.] the negroes would not work, and there were no means of forcing them to do so. the anti-slavery party still had their delegates in the west indies to see that the "poor negro" was not oppressed in any way, and their representatives in parliament to call the government to account if they allowed any vagrancy laws, or even the shadow of a coercive measure in the colonies. one ordinance after another for this purpose was disallowed, until every planter was in despair. [illustration: east indian coolie family.] [illustration: coolie barber.] to retain their labourers was a matter of life or death. some continued the old slave allowances to put them in good humour, but as these made the negroes independent of wages, the privilege was abused. they took everything and did nothing in return. some went so far as to say that the queen had promised that their late masters should supply them as usual, entirely regardless of the amount of work they did. this made the planters sore. what with one trouble and another the few who survived the wreck hardly knew how to act. they must not do anything to drive their people away, for there were many inducements offered by others in the same predicament. the negro was master, and he knew it. so much depended on him that he was enticed to labour, by high wages and greater privileges, until this bidding of one against another produced the very result which it was intended to avoid. [illustration: east indian coolie girl.] [illustration: coolie women, british guiana.] something had to be done. first, the allowances of those who would not work were stopped; then their houses and provision grounds were taken away. thousands of fruit-trees were destroyed to prevent their living on mangoes and bananas during the season. then the planters attempted to combine to bring wages to a paying level, and this led to strikes of the negroes. everything tended to further estrangement until employer and labourer drifted far apart. in british guiana the negroes bought some of the abandoned plantations and established villages; in some cases they even attempted to carry them on as sugar estates, but as all wanted to be masters they in every case failed. [illustration: coolie vegetable sellers, british guiana.] [illustration: east indian coolies, trinidad.] as if this were not enough, the british government went in for free trade, and allowed foreign slave-grown sugar to compete with that of the colonies. it seemed as if the french revolutionary cry of "perish the colonies!" had now been introduced into the british parliament. from one point of view the planters had been amply paid with the compensation money. some went so far as to say that twenty millions could have bought all the estates in the west indies, implying that the colonists had no further claim upon them. even the anti-slavery party would not see that they were encouraging the slave system in other countries by opening their markets. this completed the ruin begun by emancipation, but as long as the principles were adhered to it did not matter. [illustration: east indian coolie, trinidad.] most of the remaining plantations now fell into the hands of those who had liens upon them, and they, not liking to lose their money altogether, commenced the uphill work of again bringing them into cultivation. even a few colonists continued the struggle in hopes of better times. in demerara there were two cases where eminent lawyers--the legal profession, by the bye, doing well when everything else was on the verge of ruin--spent all their profits in keeping their sugar estates from utter abandonment. one of these got so heavily in debt that at one time he could not pay his house rent, and as the landlord dared not sue him, he had metaphorically to go on his knees and beg him to quit. [illustration: trinidad coolies.] however, the sturdy english spirit survived in a few, and they set to work to obtain labourers from other parts of the world. at first they thought of africa, but the anti-slavery party would not hear of immigration from the "dark continent," for fear of abuses. then india was tried, with the result that a few coolies were brought over by private parties, notably to demerara by john gladstone. but again the cry of slavery went forth, due to the managers leaving the new-comers in the hands of their headmen or sirdars. it was charged against them that they beat their underlings, and of course the planters had to bear the responsibility. the result was that east indian immigration was prohibited for a time. after a hard struggle on the part of the planters it was renewed, and in the end prevented trinidad and british guiana from utter abandonment. besides hindoo coolies, chinese were also imported, as well as maltese, madeirans, and a few germans. at first the negro thought little of this competition, but when he gradually dropped into the background, with his missionary friends, he commenced to protest against it. his friends said, and it was the truth, that there was enough labour in the colonies to carry on the estates, but the difficulty was that it could not be depended upon. then the wages demanded by the negroes was entirely beyond the means of the planters--the price of sugar would not admit of them. it was a case of cheap labour or the alternative of giving up the struggle, and with the east indians, british guiana, and trinidad recovered from the brink of ruin to become more flourishing in some respects than in the years immediately preceding emancipation. jamaica, the greatest of the british colonies, suffered the most as she got but few immigrants, and it is only during the last decade that she has again begun to hold up her head. without healthy competition with other races, the negroes sunk back, until they became even more degraded than those of british guiana and trinidad. in barbados, on the contrary, the population was so dense that the freedman must either work or starve. there were no waste lands and few absentee proprietors, nor were any of the estates abandoned. labour was plentiful and cheap; it followed, therefore, that the island soon recovered from the check and went on prospering. the compulsion of the whip gave way to the force of circumstances, and the struggle for existence which ensued has made the barbadian negro the most industrious in the west indies. not only is he this, but he is, like his former masters, intensely loyal to great britain and "little england." all the black, coloured, and white people in the other islands call themselves creoles, but he is "neither crab (carib) nor creole, but true barbadian born." in the french, danish, and dutch colonies labour laws were enforced after emancipation, and generally with good results. they felt the change, but not to such an extent as their neighbours, and recovered all the sooner. then they were not utterly disheartened by the unhealthy competition of slave-grown products like the english. possibly, however, the british freedman would not have borne coercion, for even the danes resented it. we have seen already that the negroes of the island of st. croix were by no means willing to submit to what they considered injustice, and how they forced on their own emancipation. however, down to they were bound to the soil as it were under annual engagements, from which they were not released without proper notice, even after the term had expired. they had houses, provision grounds, allowances, and very low wages, and were bound to work five days a week. the engagement expired annually on the st of october, and on that day those who did not renew their contract assembled in the two towns of the island for a jollification, where something like the old "mop" or hiring fair of england took place. in they somehow got the impression that the labour law was about to be relaxed, but there does not seem to have been any combination among them to obtain such an end; they were dissatisfied, and that was all. about the same time the government were so assured of their peaceable disposition that they reduced the garrison of christiansted, the capital, to sixty men. when the st of october arrived the negroes assembled as usual in frederiksted, round the rum shops, appearing good-humoured, although noisy, as such a crowd always must be. nothing particular happened until, at about three o'clock in the afternoon, a cry went up that one of their number had been beaten by a policeman, on which they attacked the peace officers, and drove them into the fort, which was police-station and barracks. some of the principal whites came out and remonstrated with them, and at first they seemed as if they would disperse, but just then the police-master, his assistant, and two soldiers rode into their midst, brandishing swords and ordering them to move off at once. infuriated by this, the mob attacked the horsemen with stones, and drove them back into the fort, which they now stormed. the british vice-consul then went among them, and, after a little parleying, induced them to go with him to the outskirts of the town. here he got a statement of their grievances, which were--first, that their wages were too low (only ten cents a day); second, that the annual contract was slavery; third, that the manager of the estate could fine them at will; and fourth, that if they wanted to leave the island they were obstructed. having promised to do all he could for them, the vice-consul begged them to disperse. [illustration: barbados. (_from andrews' "west indies."_)] [illustration: st. lucia. (_from andrews' "west indies."_)] they were apparently leaving the town, when a woman came running up with the report that the man who had been beaten by the police had just died in the hospital. this made them furious, and all further hopes of their pacification had to be given up. they invaded the hospital, knocked down the sick-nurse and a patient who inquired their business, and demanded to see the murdered man. they were informed that he was not dead but only dead drunk, and would soon recover if left alone. on being convinced of this, they again went off and attacked the fort. the defenders, when assailed with stones, fired over their heads, but this only made them all the more violent. the outer gate was broken down and some of the negroes were shot. just at that moment a planter came up, intending to enter the fort, and at once they beat him with sticks until he was nearly killed. however, the bullets checked them, but only to throw the attack on other parts of the town. stores were pillaged and set fire to, until a great portion of the town was in flames. from some of the stores they took weapons in the shape of cane-bills, and in one were alarmed for a few moments by an explosion of gunpowder. the whole of bay street was soon in flames, and like troops of fiends the negroes went dancing round the fires, in some places pouring on them cans of petroleum if the houses did not blaze up fast enough. then the rum casks began to burst, and streams of burning spirit ran down the gutters, adding to the horror of the scene. the women were always the most reckless--they danced and howled with mingled joy and rage. the men added to the din by clashing their sticks together or against the burning stores, some blowing shells as a sort of rallying signal. "our side!" was the watchword, and all who could not or would not repeat it were severely beaten. most of the whites, however, had fled, leaving them entirely unchecked in their destructive work. meanwhile the police-master had sent to christiansted for assistance, and while he waited the mob again assailed the fort and again without success. all through the night the disturbance continued, and it was not until six o'clock in the morning that a small band of twenty soldiers arrived. at their first volley the mob dispersed, flying precipitately from the town to carry the riot all over the island. two soldiers left in charge of a waggon were killed; and on learning this the soldiers were roused to a state of fury almost as great as that of the rioters. they hunted them from one plantation to another, invaded their huts, stabbed through the mattresses, and killed every negro who came in their way, without taking the trouble to inquire whether they had been concerned in the affair or not. three hundred prisoners were taken, and on the th of october a proclamation was issued calling on all the negroes to return to their houses or be treated as rebels, after which the disturbance was quelled. twelve hundred were sentenced to death, and a commission of inquiry was sent out from denmark, the result of their report being that the obnoxious labour law was repealed. we have been thus particular in our account of this riot, because it exemplifies the character of the negro and is a type of such disturbances in other colonies. there is generally some ill-feeling at the bottom, but as a rule no conspiracy beforehand. when the dissatisfaction reaches a certain point, little is required to raise the passions of the black man, and that little thing is almost sure to occur. unlike the european, he does not proclaim his grievances, except in a general way, among his own people--he has not yet arrived at that stage where civilised man uses the platform and press. it follows, therefore, that his passions smoulder for weeks and months, until some trifle--often a misunderstanding--brings them to the surface. at st. croix there does not appear to have been anything like race prejudice, or that envious feeling which makes the negro think himself down-trodden by his rivals; but that is a characteristic of most riots, and is strikingly exemplified in two that have taken place in demerara. after the emancipation the negro in british guiana became of less and less importance as more and more immigrants arrived, until he grew quite sore. no longer could he demand extortionate wages, for the labour market was virtually governed by the current rates paid to the coolies. these people, however, were quite able to hold their own, and the negro knew this; it followed, therefore, that he vented his spite upon the most inoffensive people in the colony. the portuguese from madeira came to british guiana absolutely destitute just after the failure of the vines on their island. they found the negro more prosperous than perhaps he has ever been since, for this was the time when, if he worked, he could always save money if he chose. in fact, many did so, and bought land which is still in the hands of some of their descendants, on which houses much superior to those now in existence were erected. the portuguese could not endure the hard labour of sugar-planting, but soon found openings as small shopkeepers or pedlars. hitherto there was little competition in these businesses, but the few who carried them on were negroes or coloured persons. these were soon ousted out, and the portuguese became almost the only small trader in the colony. this was a grievance to the negro, who could not see that he himself reaped the benefit--certainly he took advantage of the reduced prices while abusing the sellers. at the beginning of the year the negroes of georgetown were excited by the arrival of an anti-popery agitator, who had become notorious in england, scotland, and the united states. john sayers orr, known as "the angel gabriel," because he blew a trumpet to call the people together, was a native of demerara, and soon found out what a strong antipathy to the portuguese existed among the people. this suited his ideas exactly, for were they not roman catholics--the very body which he had been declaiming everywhere against? soon his horn-blowing brought crowds into the market square every sunday, where his harangues roused his hearers to such a pitch of fury that the authorities became alarmed. he was therefore arrested, brought before a magistrate, charged with convening an illegal assembly, and committed for trial. this committal of the popular hero was the spark which set all the negroes' passions in a blaze, but, strange to say, they did not attack the authorities. their spite was against the portuguese, and soon almost the whole colony was the scene of a general raid upon their shops. hardly any escaped, but one after another was broken open and the goods either carried away or destroyed. some went so far as to use the governor's name, as if he had authorised the raid, and in this way got ignorant people in the country districts to help them to seize boats, provisions, and even the produce of the farms of the obnoxious portuguese. the riot was ultimately quelled, but not before the damage amounted to over a quarter of a million dollars. hundreds of prisoners were captured, but beyond the shooting of one policeman there does not appear to have been any serious casualties, neither were there any executions. it is interesting to note that the idea of poisoning, which is connected with obeah superstition, was conspicuous here as in the berbice slave insurrection. one black man charged a portuguese with threatening to poison his customers with the provisions he sold them; but all the satisfaction the negro got was a reprimand from the magistrate. the second great riot in georgetown is notable for its similarity to that at st. croix. the feeling of antipathy to the portuguese still continued, and the negro had a special grievance on account of the reprieve of a murderer of that nationality. if he had been black he would have been hanged, they said--it was colour prejudice. however, no disturbance took place for several months, and even then it only came about through a misunderstanding. a black boy buying a cent roll of bread in the market, snatched one of the penny rolls instead, when the portuguese stall-keeper struck him down with a stick. the boy was taken up senseless and carried to the hospital, while his assailant through some misunderstanding was not arrested. at once there was a cry of "portugee kill black man; binney (the clerk of the market) let he go," and they began to assail the clerk with sticks and stones. the police arrived, dispersed the mob, and shut up the market, but this only led to their scattering throughout the city. the report that the black boy was dead was carried into every yard, and at once swarms of women and boys, with comparatively few men, began to smash the portuguese shops. the authorities did next to nothing, beyond sending out a few special constables, armed only with sticks, to fight against overpowering crowds better provided with weapons than themselves. the consequence was that for two days georgetown was in the power of thousands of negroes, and damage resulted to the amount of nearly fifty thousand dollars. the disturbance was finally checked by arming the police, and issuing a proclamation that they were authorised to fire on the rioters. not a single shot was fired, however; the threat was quite sufficient for the purpose. it will be seen from these cases that of late years the negroes have not perpetrated such massacres as once characterised their insurrections, but the insurrection at st. thomas-in-the-east in jamaica seems to show that the old spirit was not dead in . for several years previous jamaica had been much depressed--in fact, she had hardly begun to recover from the ruin which followed emancipation. then came a two years' drought, which caused some distress among the people, who had no other means of support than what was derived from their small provision fields. the baptist connexion was very strong in the island, and dr. underhill, the secretary of its missionary society, went out, and on his return published reports blaming the government for the distress, which he appears to have highly exaggerated. this tended to produce more dissatisfaction and to give the negroes an object on which they could vent their feelings. in one of dr. underhill's letters he said the people seemed to be overwhelmed with discouragement, and that he feared they were giving up their long struggle with injustice and fraud in despair. thus a feeling was produced which only required some little incident to bring on a serious disturbance. on the th of october a black man was brought up for trial before the custos of st. thomas-in-the-east, when a somewhat orderly mob marched into the town to, if possible, release the prisoner. they crowded round the court-house and made such a disturbance that one of them was taken in charge, only, however, to be rescued at once by his friends. nothing more was done on that day, but warrants having been issued for the arrest of the leaders, their execution was forcibly resisted. the negroes now seem to have planned a general rising and issued notices calling their people to arms. "blow your shells, roll your drums; house to house take out every man! war is at us; my black skin, war is at hand. every black man must turn at once, for the oppression is too great." they were, they said, ground down by an overbearing and oppressive foreigner, and if they did not get justice would burn and kill. on the th of october a mob assembled at the same court-house, and being resisted by a small body of volunteers, they killed the custos, and every white man who opposed them, to the number of twenty-eight, released all the prisoners and burnt the building. immediately afterwards there was a general rising in the district, which spread for about fifty miles. governor eyre, when he heard the news, at once determined to suppress the insurrection before it affected the whole island. martial law was declared, a body of maroons employed, and within a few days the riots were suppressed. many of the negroes were shot as they tried to escape, others taken and hanged at once, their villages burnt to the ground, and altogether they received such a lesson as effectually put a stop to anything of the kind in the future. it was stated that people were killed and flogged; a thousand houses were burnt and a great deal of property destroyed by both parties. the severity of governor eyre caused a great outcry in england, especially among the baptists. among those who were executed was mr. gordon, a member of the assembly, who no doubt fell a victim to the feeling aroused among the whites. he was charged with being a prime instigator of the revolt, but it does not appear that he went beyond what is generally allowed to a political agitator. such agitation, however, amongst ignorant people, who are easily excited, is particularly dangerous, and likely to recoil on the heads of those who initiate it, who must be prepared to risk the consequences. governor eyre was recalled, and prosecuted without success. he undoubtedly saved the island, and, although such executions as were committed can hardly be excused, yet when we consider the alarm and excitement, we must make some allowances. and, after all, it must be remembered that the loss of life would probably have been much greater had not the insurrection been nipped in the bud. barbados is unique in several respects, and as may be supposed there is something remarkable even about her riots. the patriotism of the inhabitants, both black and white, is proverbial all over the west indies. there is no place in the world to equal barbados--no colony but what has been conquered by the enemy at some time or other. "little england" was said to have offered an asylum to king george the third when buonaparte intended to invade england, and no doubt if such an offer was ever made it was done in all sincerity. barbadians are proud of their constitution, and jealous of its infringement in the slightest degree. this feeling led to a disturbance in , which was the nearest approach to an insurrection on that island in late years. it has often been suggested that a confederation of the british west indies would be advantageous in many ways, and in the secretary of state was of opinion that a closer union of barbados and the other windward islands was desirable. the governor of all the islands was then mr. pope hennessy, who had lately been appointed, and who had been directed to obtain the consent of barbados to a partial union. the measures proposed were of little importance, consisting only of the amalgamation of the prisons, lunatic asylums, and lazarettos, and the extension of the powers of the chief justice, auditor-general, and the police force to cover the whole of the islands. an outsider would suppose that there was nothing offensive in these changes, but that, on the contrary, they would be beneficial in many ways, but most of the barbadians opposed them strongly. barbados, they said, was solvent, while some of the islands were on the verge of bankruptcy--their island should not be taxed to support paupers. they held meetings at which six points were agreed to, and on which the leaders harangued crowds throughout the island. these were, first, that their court of appeal would be abolished; second, that all the mad people from other islands would have to be supported by them; third, that all the lepers would come there; fourth, that the officials of other islands would live on them; fifth, that the power would be taken from the people and given to the governor; and sixth, that as the house of assembly had always been faithful they resented any interference with it. the governor was desirous of carrying his project, and possibly went farther than was consistent with his instructions, which were to bring about the arrangement in an amicable manner. he did all he could to create a party in its favour, and was charged by the other side with using underhand means to this end. the main point, however, on which he laid stress, and which seems to have caused the trouble, was the advantage to the barbadians of having the other islands so close as to become virtually like their own parishes, so that the surplus population would be able to take up lands that were then useless, and lying waste. barbados is densely populated. all the lands are occupied, and it is very difficult to procure even a small lot--this makes the people all the more eager to get possession of a little freehold. yet, with all this, they will not settle in other islands, where they can get a piece of ground for next to nothing. somehow or other the more ignorant people seem to have got the notion that the governor was promising them land in barbados, and this made them enthusiastic for his project. something like communism would, they thought, follow if the confederation act were passed, and this was the reason in their opinion why the other party fought against it. the planters spoke as if mr. hennessy had laid himself open to such a misunderstanding, and that made them all the more virulent against him. the anti-confederation party said that it had always been the pride and glory of barbados to have a separate political existence, and if under their own institutions they had achieved a success which made them the envy of their neighbours, why should they change? the majority of the house of assembly were on their side, and it is difficult to understand why the governor pressed the matter in the way he did. the opposition was no doubt foolish, but still, if the people chose to be silly, he could not overcome their prejudices. party feeling ran high, only the mob shouting for hennessy and confederation. those on one side would hiss him as he appeared--the others took the horses from his carriage and drew him along in triumph. it was reported that he never went out without a guard, and that even his wife lived in continual fear. she had been threatened with the abduction of her child, and one ruffian went so far as to pelt the little one as he was driven along the street, for which he was prosecuted. at last, on the th of april, , when the party feeling had existed over six weeks, matters came to a crisis. a man went into the yard of byde mill plantation, flourishing a cane-cutter, and bearing a red flag. he was, he said, a confederation man, had just come from the governor, and wanted some liquor (cane juice). getting nothing he went out and brought his brother who bore a sword, and the two quarrelled with the man in the boiling-house, the one with the sword attempting to stab him. they defied a constable who came to arrest them, and one blew a shell which brought a mob of women and children, who went into a field of sweet-potatoes and began to carry them off. three mounted police arrived, but they were pelted with stones, and one who attempted to arrest the man with the sword got wounded. a magistrate then came and read the riot act, but the mob refused to disperse. as usual there were grievances, some complained that their pay had been stopped, which the manager said was because they could not work the mill full time for want of wind. two cane-fields were now set on fire, and the disturbance spread, its great characteristic being raids upon the potato fields. in several places live stock were killed, dwellings broken into, and everything chopped or broken to pieces. a few shots were exchanged, but no one appears to have been killed, although many got wounds and bruises from sticks and stones. everywhere the mob declared they had the authority of the governor for what they were doing, and the sufferers from their depredations charged mr. hennessy with delay in putting down the disturbance. this, however, was probably due to the effect of the persecution of governor eyre, which has made every west indian governor hesitate before going to extremes. however, when the people from the country districts began to fly to bridgetown he sent out a few soldiers who very quickly dispersed the mobs. a sensational telegram to london stated that five hundred prisoners had been taken, forty people killed and wounded, rioting was suspended, but their position was threatened, and that confidence in the government had entirely gone. this was highly exaggerated, but a great deal of property was destroyed or injured, fifty estates pillaged, and probably over fifty persons received more or less serious blows. quite a storm fell upon hennessy, who on the th of april had to issue a proclamation threatening to direct the law officers to take prompt measures against those who libelled him, by saying that he had sent emissaries through the island to mislead the people, and that he countenanced and abetted the disgraceful and lawless acts of the marauders. [illustration] [illustration] xvi. the isthmus transit schemes. by the second half of the last century the supply of gold and silver from peru had much diminished, and the road across the isthmus almost fell into disuse. in , during the great war, the british appear to have had some vague notion that it would be good policy to secure the track across nicaragua, for which purpose an expedition was fitted out. early in that year nelson sailed from jamaica with five hundred men, and after getting a number of indians from the mosquito shore and a reinforcement of british troops, the party made the difficult ascent of the san juan river, and captured the fort of the same name. but, through ignorance, the whole affair proved disastrous--the fort was useless, and the losses through sickness very great. of eighteen hundred men only three hundred and eighty survived, and nelson himself nearly lost his life. he was obliged to go home to recruit, and it was only after spending two or three months at bath that he recovered to continue that glorious career which made him so famous. however, it was not long afterwards that a project for utilising the isthmus was brought under the consideration of the british government by general miranda, of whom we have spoken in another chapter. he wanted pitt to assist him in his projects for the emancipation of the spanish colonies, and, as a means to this end, in , proposed that the british should take possession of darien, and thus further their commerce in the pacific. nothing was done at that time, and a few years later miranda made a second proposition that the united states should join with great britain, and open roads and canals for both nations. mr. pitt seems to have agreed to this, and was only prevented from attempting to carry it out by the delay of president adams. the united states were to furnish ten thousand men, and great britain money and ships. in , under lord sidmouth, an expedition was actually set on foot, only to collapse at the peace of amiens. again, in , pitt tried to carry out the project with miranda, but the condition of europe stood in the way of expeditions to the spanish main. [illustration: atlantic entrance to darien canal. (_from cullen's "darien canal."_)] in enumerating the advantages likely to accrue from the emancipation of south america, a writer in the _edinburgh review_ of january, , laid great stress upon a passage across the isthmus. it was the most important to the peaceful intercourse of nations of anything that presented itself to the enterprise of man. so far from being a romantic and chimerical project, it was not only practicable, but easy. the river chagré, about eighteen leagues westward of porto bello, was navigable as far as cruzes, within five leagues of panama. but there was even a better route; at about five leagues from its mouth the chagré received the river trinidad, which was navigable to embarcadero, from which panama was only distant thirty miles through a level country. the ground had been surveyed, and not the practicability only, but the facility of the work _completely ascertained_. further north was the grand lake of nicaragua, which by itself almost extended the navigation from sea to sea. the governor of st. john's castle (fort san juan) had been instructed by the king of spain to refuse permission to any british subject desirous of passing up or down this lake, "for if ever the english came to a knowledge of its importance and value they would soon make themselves masters of this part of the country." but not only had the best places for a canal been selected at this early time, but the many advantages to be derived from its construction had been well considered. the same writer went on to say that from this splendid and not difficult enterprise, not merely the commerce of the western shores of america would be brought, as it were, to their doors, but that of the south sea whalers, who would be saved the tedious and dangerous voyage round cape horn. then the whole of the vast interests of asia would increase in value to a degree that was then difficult to conceive, by having a direct route across the pacific. it would be as if, by some great revolution of the globe, they were brought nearer. immense would be the traffic which immediately would begin to cover the ocean--all the riches of india and china moving towards america. then also the commodities of europe and america would be carried towards asia. as a result of this, vast depôts would be formed at the two extremities of the canal, to soon develop into great commercial cities. never before had such an opportunity been offered to a nation as great britain had then before her, owing to a wonderful combination of circumstances. mr. robinson, a united states merchant, in , said that the most ardent imagination would fail in an attempt to portray all the important and beneficial consequences of such a work, the magnitude and grandeur of which were worthy the profound attention of every commercial nation. the powers of the old and new world should discard all selfish considerations, and unite to execute it on a magnificent scale, so that when completed it might become, like the ocean, a highway of nations, the enjoyment of which should be guaranteed by all, and be exempt from the caprice or regulation of any one kingdom or state. such were the views promulgated at the beginning of this century, but nothing was done until about , when the pressure of circumstances again brought the isthmus into note. darien and panama are in the republic of new granada, but north of these come the small states of costa rica, nicaragua, honduras, san salvador, and guatemala. all of these are inhabited by true americans--native races who have to a considerable extent absorbed the slight admixture of european blood introduced by their conquerors. some places are so inaccessible as to be virtually outside the pale of civilisation. the roads are nothing but mule tracks, full of quagmires where the animals have to wade up to their girths in mud--in fact, little better than the paths so well described by lionel wafer. the rivers are numerous, and, on account of the heavy rainfall, their currents are very strong, and all the more dangerous from the numerous sandbanks and rapids which obstruct their course. since the states gained their independence they have passed through so many changes of government that at the beginning hardly a month passed without a revolution in one or the other. this went on until without interference from outside, but with the discovery of gold in california came an invasion of ruffians of all nations. the old freebooters almost seemed to have come to life again. hardy adventurers from all parts of the world rushed off to the new "el dorado," woke the sleepy nicaraguans on the san juan river, and roused the people of chagres. over the isthmus of panama or through the nicaragua lake they flocked by thousands, necessitating the establishment of transit companies to provide them with mules, boats, and steamers. the easiest, although longest, route was through nicaragua, which was controlled by the vanderbilt company, and during the time the "rush" lasted they took over two or three thousand per month. the company had steamers on the lake to meet the throng of diggers as they arrived, and they passed through at regular intervals like a tide. the overland part of the route presented a strange spectacle, with their pack mules and horses. men of all nationalities, armed with pistols and knives, which they were prepared to use on the greasers (natives) at the slightest provocation, put these altogether in the background. a traveller has spoken of them as a string of romantic figures that could not be matched in any other part of the world. some glowed with fervent passion, as if on fire, others were hard, cold, and rugged as the rocky passes they traversed, while a few were worn, old, and decaying, under the effects of the hardships and reverses of their stormy existence. every line in their faces had a meaning, if it could only have been interpreted, telling of sin and suffering--of adventures more terrible than were ever portrayed by the pen of the romantic writer, and of experiences as fascinating as they had been dangerous. among the results of this rush through nicaragua was the expedition of william walker, the great filibuster of this century. with fifty-five men he went forth from california to conquer central america, and in the end nearly succeeded. he got himself elected president of nicaragua, but ultimately raised such a storm that he was brought to bay by some forces from honduras and costa rica, and had to surrender to the captain of a british man-of-war, by whom he was handed over to his enemies to be shot. with this wonderful traffic across the isthmus arose the old canal schemes, as well as a new one for a railway. easy and rapid transit must be obtained in some way or other, and this time being in the age of steam, it naturally followed that the project for a railway gained immediate support. it was commenced in , at which time the terminus on the gulf side was settled, and the foundations of the new town of aspinwall or colon laid a few miles east of chagres. the difficulties were enormous, on account of the marshy ground and the number of rivers to be crossed. the wooden bridges were almost immediately attacked by wood ants, floods carried away the timbers, but more distressing than all was the loss of life through sickness. chinese labourers were imported in great numbers, only to fall victims to the same deadly climate which had given porto bello and the isthmus generally their evil reputation. however, the railway was completed in , at the enormous cost of $ , , , although its length is only - / miles. thus one part of the great project was carried out, and a good road provided for passengers and light goods, the annual value of which latter is now about £ , , . but those in favour of a canal were not sleeping all this time. the old routes were again mooted, that through lake nicaragua being put down at miles in length, while the other, since known as the panama, was only . dr. edward cullen, however, in went out and made some surveys, with the result that he advocated the old darien line as the shortest and most practicable. he would start from the same port de escoces that witnessed the downfall of william paterson's scheme, and which he said was a most commodious harbour for the terminus of a canal. the isthmus was here only miles across, and free from many of the difficulties which beset the other routes. as a result of dr. cullen's reports, in it was proposed to establish "the atlantic and pacific junction company," with a capital of fifteen millions sterling. the prospectus stated that the period had arrived when the spread of commerce and the flow of emigration to the western shores of america, australasia, and china, demanded a passage more direct than those by way of the cape of good hope and cape horn. various projects had been formed for uniting the two oceans, but all these were open to the objection that they fell short of supplying a continuous channel from sea to sea, for vessels of all dimensions, by which alone transhipment could be obviated. sir charles fox, mr. john henderson, mr. thomas brassey, and dr. cullen had received a concession of territory from new ganada to the extent of , acres, on condition that a deposit of £ , be made within twelve months. it was believed that the work could be completed for twelve millions. the _times_ spoke disparagingly of the new company, and this probably prevented its acceptance by the financial world. the line, it said, had not been actually surveyed, but only superficially examined, and, after all, if it were finished, it could only come into competition with the nicaragua canal, every foot of which had been the subject of precise estimates, and which would only cost _four millions_. several letters from the projectors and supporters of the company followed, with other leaders, the result being that the darien canal never went beyond a project. presently also the rush for california abated, and the railway met the wants of the passengers; all the canal schemes were therefore again shelved for a time. then came an almost utopian project for a ship railway, the cars of which would run down into the water, take up the largest vessel, and carry it over without trouble or difficulty. this met with little encouragement, and was soon dropped. in ferdinand de lesseps, who had achieved such a glorious success with the suez canal, took up the matter of a canal between the two oceans, and summoned a congress of savants, engineers and seamen, to inquire into and discuss the questions of its possibility, and of the most suitable place for its excavation. a number of projects were considered, among them that of dr. cullen, brought forward by m. de puydt, which, however, did not receive much attention, as there was a difference of opinion as to the reliability of the figures. the schemes were ultimately reduced to two--those for the nicaragua and panama routes. the position of the great lake caused the former to be thoroughly discussed; but there were several almost insurmountable difficulties in the way of its adoption. to clear the san juan river, and make it into a great canal, would entail great labour and expense, and then seven or eight locks would be required. on the pacific side locks would also be required for the rivas, while the harbours of greytown on the gulf side, and brito on the pacific, were quite unsuited as termini for a canal. the total length would be - / miles, and the time occupied in the passage four and a half days. there was also another great draw-back: nicaragua was and is subject to earthquakes, which would be likely at times to interfere greatly with such heavy works as were required. it followed, therefore, that notwithstanding the powerful support of the americans, this line was abandoned in favour of that from port simon to panama, not far from the railway. two french officers, mm. wyse and reclus, had explored the country, and proposed to carry the canal through the chagres river, and thence, by means of a great tunnel, into the valley of the rio grande; but, on consideration, the tunnel was abandoned in favour of a deep cutting, which would not exceed feet. the great objection to this was the floods of the chagres river, which sometimes rose twenty-five feet in a single night; but this was got over by arranging for a separate bed for the canal. there were a few other difficulties, but propositions were made to obviate them; and at last the sub-commission reported that "the panama canal on the level technically presents itself under the most satisfactory conditions, and ensures every facility, as it gives every security, for the transit of vessels from one sea to another." now came the question of cost. the nicaragua canal was estimated at £ , , , and that at panama £ , , . (the reader will compare these with former estimates, especially that of nicaragua as stated by the _times_.) the former was rejected absolutely, on account of the necessity for locks, and all further discussion was concerned with the latter. it was then calculated that, with transit dues of fifteen francs per ton, the net annual profit would be £ , , . m. de lesseps was elected to the academy in , when m. renan said he had been born to pierce isthmuses, and that antiquity would have made him a god. carried away by enthusiasm, the great projector saw no difficulties; he had already completed a work which had been declared almost impossible, now he would carry out a project similar to that proposed by william paterson. however, panama was not suez, a rainless desert, but a place where floods, marshes, and quagmires took the place of almost level sands. m. wyse had vainly tried to start a company; but when lesseps, with all the prestige of his suez canal, joined him, there was comparatively little difficulty. personally, lesseps seems to have known little of panama--all his knowledge was gained at second hand. the first public subscription was invited in july, , the capital being , , francs (£ , , ), in , shares at francs each. this large sum, however, was not obtained at once, only £ , , being applied for. however, lesseps was not discouraged, but determined to go on with the work, trusting that money would flow in as it was wanted, which ultimately proved to be the case, until the project appeared hopeless. he visited the isthmus, and made a triumphal progress over the line; he even witnessed one of the great floods of the chagres river, which rose forty feet and covered the railway. undaunted by this, he went over to panama, and on the th of january, , inaugurated the great canal with a ceremony and _fête_. he then stated that success was assured, and declared, upon his word of honour, that the work would be much easier on the isthmus than in the desert of suez. in march following he visited new york, where he was but coldly received, on account of american jealousy of european influence. the president said that the capital invested in such an enterprise by corporations or citizens of other countries must be protected by one or more of the great powers, but no european power could intervene for such protection without adopting means which the united states would deem inadmissible. this did not damp his enthusiasm; if other countries would not assist, all the credit would go to france. the company had a concession from the columbian republic for twelve years, and the united states would not be likely to interfere. it will be interesting here to compare the estimates for the canal by different persons and at different times within two years:-- m. wyse, £ , , the paris congress, , , the lesseps commission, february, , , m. de lesseps himself, " " , , rectified estimate, september, , , lesseps said he had an offer from a contractor to complete the work for twenty millions. backed by the press and the deputies, the company's shares sold freely, and on the rd of march, , it was fully established. it was promised that in the course of that year the line of the canal should be cleared, and dredging commenced. lesseps expected to finish in , but in and the two following years he was obliged to advance the time to . the canal was to be miles long, feet wide at the bottom, and feet deep. little was done in , but the work was divided into five sections, and in the following year dredging and excavating were commenced. but, even thus early, it was found to be more difficult than had been expected. up to march, , only , metres had been excavated, which was reckoned to be about / th of the whole. this would not do, as it meant that over a century would pass before its completion. about seven thousand labourers, mostly jamaica negroes, were employed at that time, and this number was increased until, in , there were , . in the average amount excavated was , metres per month, against lesseps' estimate of two millions. yet, with all that, it was calculated that in this year only / th of the material had been taken out. the difficulties were enormous. first, there was trouble to find dumping places, where the earth would not be again washed into the excavations by heavy floods. then came the rank vegetation, which was continually stretching from either side to choke the clearing. weeds grew six to eight feet high in a rainy season, and these, with the straggling vines, kept a little army at work to clear them away from the embankments and tracks. the workmen suffered greatly from yellow and other fevers, and £ , was spent on hospitals and their appurtenances. money was spent profusely on such things as grand offices and a magnificent house to lodge the president, if he should ever come to inspect the works. all along the route were ornamental bungalows, and the director-general at panama had a salary of £ , , besides a house and other allowances. even he suffered from fever, and his wife and daughter died of it. up to about fifty millions sterling had been spent, and hardly a fifth of the work was finished. then financial difficulties led to an arrangement for merging it in a new company, which proposed to complete the canal on a new plan. notwithstanding all the objections to locks, it was now proposed to save such an immense work of excavation by erecting four on either side, thus bringing the highest water level to feet. eighteen and a half miles were said to have been completed, of which five were on the pacific side and the remainder on the gulf. to carry out the new plan, £ , , more were required, but, as a matter of fact, only a third of the work necessary for this revised scheme had been done. then came the downfall, which has been compared to that of the south sea bubble. when the company went into liquidation, scores of shady transactions came to light. editors of newspapers and deputies had been bribed to gain their support, and money had been wasted in almost every possible manner. in february, , m. ferdinand de lesseps and four other directors were prosecuted, with the result that he, mm. c. de lesseps, fontaine, and cottin, were convicted of breach of trust and swindling, the two former being sentenced to five years' imprisonment and , francs fines each, and the latter two years and , francs fines. m. eiffel, the architect of the great tower of paris, was found guilty of breach of trust, and sentenced to two years' imprisonment and a fine of , francs. nine persons were then charged with receiving bribes, one of whom, m. baïhaut, admitted that he got , francs. three were found guilty, sentenced to imprisonment, fines, and to pay the liquidators of the company the amount of m. baïhaut's bribe. charles de lesseps appealed against the charges of swindling, and these were quashed on the ground that the transactions had occurred more than five years before, thus getting the longer terms of imprisonment and fines of the three principals reduced. ferdinand de lesseps hardly knew what was going on; he was old, feeble, and in a state of apathy and stupor. pity for his condition prevented the carrying out of the sentence as far as he was concerned, and he died on the th of december, . the _times_, in noticing his death, said the story was a most pitiful one. the blame of the panama affair must be laid upon the people and the public temper. bribery and corruption were symptoms of a thoroughly unhealthy state of things. an infatuated public provided enormous sums; when these were spent, more went the same way, and to get these contributions everything possible was done. lesseps was no engineer, but a diplomatist, planning great schemes and the means of carrying them out. he was the man of the moment in france. he was neither a financier nor an engineer, neither an impostor nor a swindler. he was a man of great originality, of indomitable perseverance, of boundless faith in himself, and of singular powers of fascination over others. meanwhile several attempts had been made to get money to carry on the work, one of which was by means of a lottery. but the french people were discouraged, and were no longer prepared to throw good money after bad. it followed, therefore, that although in a new company, with a capital of sixty-five million francs, was proposed, and that it was announced in august that eight hundred workmen were engaged, it does not appear that anything is being done. if, as has been stated, only a third of the work has been accomplished for, say, thirty millions, allowing for waste of money, it can hardly be expected that double this amount will ever be obtained. what with the heavy floods and rank vegetation, a great deal will have to be done to recover lost ground; in fact, some of the excavations must be filled up by this time. those who know the country can easily understand that the handsome bungalows, hospitals, and workmen's houses must be overrun by wood-ants, and that the machinery is mostly spoilt by rust. even if the canal is ever finished with locks, it is doubtful whether it could pay a dividend, as the work of keeping it open by dredging would be very expensive. no doubt it would be a boon to the world if it were finished, but capitalists expect profit, and will hardly be inclined to assist without such expectations. [illustration: europe supported by africa and america. (_from stedman's "surinam."_)] the nicaragua canal has been in course of excavation for several years past by an american company. as finally adopted, it is to have a total length of . miles, of which - / will be through the lake, and ½ through the san juan river. there are to be three locks on either side, which may cause trouble in case of a violent earthquake; and then, again, the length of the journey will be against it as compared with that of panama. it has been attempted in the united states to make it a national work, and the sum of a hundred million dollars is asked from the american government, or at least a guarantee on the issue of bonds to that amount. we believe that very little enthusiasm for the project has been shown. in august, , the company was unable to meet its obligations, and a receiver was appointed, since which time we believe the work is being continued, and that it has been decided to complete it as soon as possible. m. de varigny, in _l'illustration_ of june the st, , gives the following opinion on the work and its political importance:-- "that the washington statesmen take account of the fact that the cutting of the isthmus is difficult, costly, and, in case of a rupture with england, dangerous, we cannot doubt. but such is the fascination of great enterprises, of grand words and grand theories, that senators and representatives hesitate to oppose the current of opinion that is bearing along the masses. "the work has begun, and we can only hope that it will succeed. there cannot be too many gates of communication between different peoples. the united states undertake to open this. can they do it, and doing it, will they give up the advantages they will thereby acquire? the future will show." [illustration] index. acosta, pedro de, explorer of the orinoco, african slavery, aguirre the tyrant, alfinger, ambrosio de, searches for "el dorado," altienza, donna inez de, murdered by aguirre, amazon company, amazon, expedition of ursua and aguirre, american indian, his character, _amis des noirs_, "angel gabriel," john sayers orr, rouses the negroes of demerara, antigua, anti-slavery party, , apprenticeship, negro, araby, a leader of bush negroes, arawaks, their character, ; columbus tries to enslave them, ; the spanish sovereign's good feeling for them, ; their treatment by the first colonists, ; did not lay up provisions, ; thinks spaniards gods, ; refuse to be slaves, ; die off in great numbers, ; in guiana, , araya, dutch at, armada, spanish, , aruba, aspinwall, _assiento_ contract to supply slaves, ayscue, sir george, reduces barbados for the parliament, bahamas, natives kidnapped, ; settled by english, ; resort of buccaneers, ; captured by spaniards, baïhaut, m., bribed by panama canal company, bannister, major, english governor of surinam, barbados, first colonised, ; protests against grant to earl of carlisle, ; result of the english revolution, ; charles ii. proclaimed king, ; sir george ayscue arrives to subdue the island, ; attack on hole town, ; the island surrenders, ; sufferings of a bond-servant in, ; de ruyter driven off from, ; its unique position, ; negro plots, ; anti-slavery insurrection, ; result of emancipation, ; confederation disturbances, barker, andrew, a rover, baron, a bush negro chief, basco, michael de, a buccaneer, , baskerville, sir thomas, a companion of drake, beaudierre, mons. de, a sympathiser with the coloured people of hayti, berbice, supplies cut off during war, ; captured by french corsairs, , ; great slave insurrection, belize, berrie, one of ralegh's captains, berrio, antonio de, spanish governor of trinidad, bolivar, simon, liberator of venezuela, bond-servants, boyer, president of hayti, brethren of the coast, british guiana, , british legion in venezuela, bull of partition, its terms, ; disputed, ; practically revoked, bush negroes, buxton, fowell, byam, major, governor of surinam, byron, admiral, , caciques of the indians, their position, california rush, campeachy, bay of, , cannibals, , canning's declaration of neutrality, caribana, caribbee islands, , caribs, their character, ; cannibalism, , ; hatred of spaniards, ; in guiana, , ; in st. kitt's, carlisle, earl of, grantee of caribbee islands, , carthagena, taken by french, ; great fair, ; attacked by admiral vernon, cary, colonel, favours the buccaneers, casas, las, cassard, jacques, the corsair, ; captures st. eustatius, ; curaçao, cattle, wild, "cavaliers" and "roundheads" in barbados, central american republics, chagres, charbon, jan abraham, charles i. and the colonies, charles ii. declared king in the bermudas and virginia, ; barbados, ; his interest in the plantations, chinese labourers introduced, christianity forced on the natives, , christophe, a haytian leader, , clervaux, a haytian leader, clifford, jeronomy, case of, cochrane, admiral, codrington, colonel, coffee, coffee, leader of rebel slaves in berbice, , coke, john, colon, colonies, spanish, in hispaniola, , coloured people in hayti, columbian republic, columbus' opinion of the natives, confederation in barbados, contraband trade with spanish colonies, , , convict labour, coolies, east indian, cooper, anthony ashley, corsairs, , corteso, juan, an "el dorado" seeker, costa rica, cottin, m., cotton, , , council for plantations, , cromwell and the west indies, cudjo, a maroon chief, cuba, cullen, dr. e., projector of the darien canal, curaçao, , , , , darbey, john, an english prisoner in cuba, darien canal, darien scheme, delgado, augustine, an "el dorado" seeker, demerara, , , , dessalines, a chief in the haytian insurrection, ; crowned emperor, dogs, hunt indians, ; run wild, ; hunt maroons, ; hunt rebel negroes, dominica, , , , , _dominus vobiscum_, one of the first english vessels in the west indies, d'oyley, governor of jamaica, drake, sir francis, voyage with hawkins, ; raid on nombre de dios, ; great expedition to the west indies, ; captures st. domingo, ; last voyage, ; death, drax, colonel, du casse, a french corsair, dudley, sir robert, dutch, , , , , , , edwards, bryan, eiffel, m., "el dorado," the quest for, ; dangers, ; germ of the story, ; martinez' report, elizabeth, queen, emancipation, great britain, ; france, ; denmark, ; holland, ; spain, enambuc, m. d', first french settler, - , enciso, bachelor, english and dutch, , , essequebo, everson, a dutch pirate, eyre, governor of jamaica, fedreman, nicholas, an "el dorado" seeker, ferdinand and isabella, kind feelings towards the indians, ; grant from the pope, fontaine, father, a catholic missionary, fontaine, m., a panama defaulter, fourgeaud, colonel, franklin, washington, free trade, french, in the west indies, - , ; company for settling the islands, ; character of, ; revolution, its influence on hayti, effect on the spanish main, george of spires, an "el dorado" seeker, german knights in venezuela, gold-hunting, , , , , gordon, mr., a member of the jamaica assembly, executed, grasse, count de, , grenada, groenwegel, commander of essequebo, guadeloupe, , _guanin_, guatavita, lake of, guatemala, guiana, , guianians, guichen, admiral de, , güiria, guzman, fernando de, haïti, hayti, or hispaniola, its inhabitants, ; colonised, ; gold found, ; almost ruined by becoming depopulated, ; a resort of buccaneers, ; under the french, ; downfall, ; british invasion, ; republics and empires, hall, captain, exploit of, harcourt, robert, in guiana, harry, a guiana indian, in london, , hartop, job, a prisoner in mexico, havana, ransomed, ; sacked and burnt, hawkins, sir john, first voyage, ; second, ; third, ; final trip with drake, and death, hawkins, william, voyage to brazil, hennessy, governor john pope, of barbados, , henri i. (christophe), emperor of hayti, henry viii. of england sends an expedition to the west indies, herera, alonzo de, hogs naturalised in hispaniola, see haïti hondo river, hood, sir samuel, hoogenheim, wolfert simon van, governor of berbice, huten, philip von, an "el dorado" seeker, iala, father, an "el dorado" seeker, indian, character of, jackson, colonel, captures santiago de la vega, jacques i. (dessalines), emperor of hayti, jamaica, valdivia wrecked off the coast, ; attacked by colonel jackson, ; captured by english, ; spanish attempt to recapture, ; the first real british colony, ; progress of, ; authorities refuse help to the darien colony, ; slave revolts, ; serious negro insurrection, james i., friendship for spain, , ; dispute with spain about the west indies and virginia, jeffreys, judge, sends prisoners to barbados, jenkins, captain, and his ear, jervis, admiral sir john, jews in the west indies, , keymis, captain, a follower of ralegh, , - , kyk-over-al, dutch fort in essequebo, labour difficulties, , , lafayette, lawrence, captain, an english pirate, legrand, pierre, a french pirate, leigh, charles, first english settler in guiana, lesseps, ferdinand de, and his panama scheme, lolonois, the great pirate, macatoa, reported a very rich city, madeirans imported into british guiana, maltese imported into british guiana, manoa, city of, fabulous residence of "el dorado," margarita, , marino, dictator of venezuela, maroons or simarons, , , martinez, juan de, his report of "el dorado," martinique, , , , , mauduit, captain, murdered in the haytian revolt, merrifield, ralph, one of the first settlers in st. kitt's, methodists, miranda, francisco, leader of the revolution in venezuela, , missionaries, protestant, , montbar, the french pirate, montserrat, , , morgan, captain (afterwards sir henry), the english buccaneer, , morgan, colonel, morillo, marshal, spanish leader in venezuela, _navio de permisso_, negro slavery, , , , , negroes, free, difficulties with, nelson, lord, flying trip to the west indies, ; his expedition to nicaragua, nevis, , new edinburgh, new granada, , , , new world, nicaragua and the canal scheme, , , , , north, roger, a settler in guiana, , _nueva dorado_, ojeda, alonzo de, omaguas, reported a rich nation, ophir, , ordas, diego de, explores the orinoco, orders in council, orr, john sayers, "the angel gabriel," creates a disturbance in demerara, ouverture, toussaint l', leader of the haytian negroes, oxenham or oxnam, john, crosses the isthmus, oyapok, english colonies in the, , panama, , , panama canal, , , panama railway, parima lake, paterson, william, and the darien scheme, penn and venables, generals, expedition to the west indies, perez, diego, a gallant spaniard, petion, president of hayti, , philips, miles, an english prisoner in mexico, pirates in the west indies, , pitman, henry, a bond-servant, pitt, in favour of a panama canal, plantations, , , pointis, de, a leader of buccaneers, pomeroon, , pope, the, issues bull of partition, ; acknowledges french rights in the west indies, popham, captain, captures spanish letters, porto bello, its fair, ; captured by vernon, porto rico, , prince of orange in england, privateers, , proclamations to the indians, , providence island, puerto cabello, quesada, herman de, an "el dorado" seeker, ralegh sir walter, at trinidad, ; his "letters patent," ; his interest in guiana, ; captures trinidad, ; searches for "el dorado," ; sent to the tower, ; liberated, ; goes again to guiana, ; capture of st. thome, ; his execution, reclus, m., a panama canal projector, regapo, leonard, a guiana indian, in london, _repartimientos_, robespierre, rodney, admiral, , rossy, sieur du, route of spanish trade, rovers to the main, , royal african company for introducing slaves, rupert, prince, ruyter, admiral de, attacks barbados, st. christopher's, or st. kitt's, settled by thomas warner, ; granted to the earl of carlisle, ; d'enambuc arrives, ; divided between english and french, ; attacked by spaniards, ; granted to a french company, ; bond-servants in, ; quarrels between english and french, , , ; captured by french, st. croix or santa cruz, riots in, , st. domingo, captured by drake, ; attempted by penn and venables, st. eustatius, , , , , st. lucia, , , st. martin's, , st. thomas, st. vincent, salle, general de la, french governor of st. kitt's, san juan river, santa martha, captured by french pirates, santiago de cuba, gallant fight at, santiago de la vega captured by english, savile, henry, his "libel of spanish lies," sedenno, antonio, an "el dorado" seeker, serfdom, , shelley, colonel, a "cavalier" in barbados, simarons, _see_ maroons slaves, indian, ; negro, , , , , , ; white (bond-servants), ; insurrections, , , ; abolition of the african trade, , ; runaways, ; registrar and protector of, ; emancipation of, ; reviews of slavery, smith, rev. john, a missionary sentenced to death in connection with a slave revolt, - south sea bubble, , spain, character of her people, ; introducing christianity, ; wanton cruelty to the natives, ; hardiness of spaniards, ; their audacity, ; spanish claim to supremacy, ; interference with their trade, ; spanish cruelty to prisoners of war, "spiriting" or kidnapping white servants, ; made felony sugar cane, , suicides, surinam, , , , , sylva, gaspar de, an "el dorado" seeker, tison, thomas, first english trader to west indies, tobacco, tobago, , , toledo, don frederic de, captures st. kitt's, tortuga, the great rendezvous of the buccaneers, , , trade forced upon the spanish settlers, , transported convicts, treasure seeking, trelawny town, tribute imposed on natives, trinidad, , ursua, pedro de, murdered by the tyrant aguirre, utrecht, treaty of, valdivia, his shipwreck, van horn the pirate, vanderbilt transit company, venables and penn, generals, their expedition, venezuela, the treasure seekers in, ; her struggle for independence, vernon, admiral, , , virgin islands, virginia, wafer, lionel, his journey across the isthmus, walker, william, the modern filibuster, walrond, colonel, a "cavalier" in barbados, warner, thomas, founder of the colony of st. kitt's, , , wars, england and spain, , , ; holland and spain, , ; france and spain, ; england and holland, , ; england and france against holland and spain, ; france against england and holland, ; spain, england, and holland against france, ; england and holland against france and spain, ; england and spain, ; england and her revolted colonies, ; france, spain, and holland join in the quarrel, ; commencement of the great french war, ; england and the united states, watts, governor, of st. kitt's, welsers of augsburg, west india company of holland, william iii. and the darien scheme, willoughby, lord, governor of barbados, , - , wyse, m., a panama canal projector, [illustration] the gresham press, unwin brothers, woking and london. http://www.ebookforge.net note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations and images of the original pages. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) the pirates of panama [illustration: "the man-of-war gave them chase"--_page _] the pirates of panama or the buccaneers of america a true account of the famous adventures and daring deeds of sir henry morgan and other notorious freebooters of the spanish main by john esquemeling _one of the buccaneers who was present at those tragedies_ edited and illustrated by george alfred williams [illustration] new york frederick a. stokes company publishers copyright, , by frederick a. stokes company all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages. printed in the united states of america contents page ( ) introduction by george alfred williams xi ( ) the translator's preface to the first edition xv chapter i. the introduction--the author sets forth for the western islands, in the service of the west india company of france--they meet with an english frigate, and arrive at the island of tortuga chapter ii. a description of tortuga--the fruits and plants there--how the french first settled there, at two several times, and forced out the spaniards--the author twice sold in the said island chapter iii. a description of hispaniola--also a relation of the french buccaneers chapter iv. original of the most famous pirates of the coasts of america--famous exploit of pierre le grand chapter v. how the pirates arm their vessels, and regulate their voyages chapter vi. of the origin of francis lolonois, and the beginning of his robberies chapter vii. lolonois equips a fleet to land upon the spanish islands of america, with intent to rob, sack, and burn whatsoever he met with chapter viii. lolonois makes new preparations to take the city of st. james de leon; as also that of nicaragua; where he miserably perishes chapter ix. the origin and descent of captain henry morgan--his exploits, and the most remarkable actions of his life chapter x. of the island of cuba--captain morgan attempts to preserve the isle of st. catherine as a refuge to the nest of pirates; but fails of his design--he arrives at, and takes, the village of el puerto del principe chapter xi. captain morgan resolving to attack and plunder the city of puerto bello, equips a fleet, and with little expense and small forces takes it chapter xii. captain morgan takes the city of maracaibo, on the coast of neuva venezuela--piracies committed in those seas--ruin of three spanish ships set forth to hinder the robberies of the pirates chapter xiii. captain morgan goes to hispaniola to equip a new fleet, with intent to pillage again on the coast of the west indies chapter xiv. what happened in the river de la hacha chapter xv. captain morgan leaves hispaniola, and goes to st. catherine's, which he takes chapter xvi. captain morgan takes the castle of chagre, with four hundred men sent to this purpose from st. catherine's chapter xvii. captain morgan departs from chagre, at the head of twelve hundred men, to take the city of panama chapter xviii. captain morgan sends canoes and boats to the south sea--he fires the city of panama--robberies and cruelties committed there by the pirates, till their return to the castle of chagre illustrations "the man-of-war gave them chase" _frontispiece_ facing page pierre le grand commanding the spanish captain to surrender the ship "portugues made the best of his way to del golpho triste" "they boarded the ship with great agility" "lolonois, with those that remained, had much ado to escape aboard their boats" captain morgan recruiting his forces "being come to the place of the duel, the englishman stabbed the frenchman in the back" "morgan commanded the religious men and women to place the ladders against the walls" "they hanged him on a tree" "the fire-ship sailing before the rest fell presently upon the great ship" morgan dividing the treasure taken at maracaibo sacking of panama--"morgan re-entered the city with his troops" introduction this volume was originally written in dutch by john esquemeling, and first published in amsterdam in under the title of de americaeneche zee roovers. it immediately became very popular and this first hand history of the buccaneers of america was soon translated into the principal european languages. the first english edition was printed in . of the author, john esquemeling, very little is known although it is generally conceded that he was in all probability a fleming or hollander, a quite natural supposition as his first works were written in the dutch language. he came to the island of tortuga, the headquarters of the buccaneers, in in the employ of the french west india company. several years later this same company, owing to unsuccessful business arrangements, recalled their representatives to france and gave their officers orders to sell the company's land and all its servants. esquemeling then a servant of the company was sold to a stern master by whom he was treated with great cruelty. owing to hard work, poor food and exposure he became dangerously ill, and his master seeing his weak condition and fearing to lose the money esquemeling had cost him resold him to a surgeon. this new master treated him kindly so that esquemeling's health was speedily restored, and after one year's service he was set at liberty upon a promise to pay his benefactor, the surgeon, pieces of eight at such a time as he found himself in funds. once more a free man he determined to join the pirates and was received into their society and remained with them until . esquemeling served the buccaneers in the capacity of barber-surgeon, and was present at all their exploits. little did he suspect that his first hand observations would some day be cherished as the only authentic and true history of the buccaneers and marooners of the spanish main. from time to time new editions of this work have been published, but in many cases much new material, not always authentic, has been added and the result has been to mar the original narrative as set forth by esquemeling. in arranging this edition, the original english text only has been used, and but few changes made by cutting out the long and tedious description of plant and animal life of the west indies of which esquemeling had only a smattering of truth. but, the history of captain morgan and his fellow buccaneers is here printed almost identical with the original english translation, and we believe it is the first time this history has been published in a suitable form for the juvenile reader with no loss of interest to the adult. the world wide attention at this time in the isthmus of panama and the great canal connecting the atlantic with the pacific ocean lends to this narrative an additional stimulus. here are set forth the deeds of daring of the wild freebooters in crossing the isthmus to attack the cities, puerto bellow and panama. the sacking and burning of these places accompanied by pillage, fire, and treasure seeking both on land and on sea form exciting reading. _the buccaneers and marooners of america_ well deserves a place on the book shelf with those old world-wide favorites _robinson crusoe_ and the _swiss family robinson_. george alfred williams. the translator to the reader (of ). _the present volume, both for its curiosity and ingenuity, i dare recommend unto the perusal of our english nation, whose glorious actions it containeth. what relateth unto the curiosity hereof, this piece, both of natural and humane history, was no sooner published in the_ dutch original, _than it was snatch't up for the most curious library's of_ holland; _it was translated into_ spanish _(two impressions thereof being sent into_ spain _in one year_); _it was taken notice of by the learned academy of paris; and finally recommended as worthy our esteem, by the ingenious author of the_ weekly memorials for the ingenious, _printed here at_ london _about two years ago. neither all this undeservedly, seeing it enlargeth our acquaintance of natural history, so much prized and enquir'd for, by the learned of this present age, with several observations not easily to be found in other accounts already received from_ america: _and besides, it informeth us (with huge novelty) of as great and bold attempts, in point of military conduct and valour, as ever were performed by mankind; without excepting, here, either_ alexander the great, _or_ julius cæsar, _or the rest of the_ nine worthy's of fame. _of all which actions, as we cannot confess ourselves to have been ignorant hitherto (the very name of_ bucaniers _being, as yet, known but unto few of the_ ingenious; _as their lives, laws, and conversation, are in a manner unto none) so can they not choose but be admired, out of this ingenuous author, by whosoever is curious to learn the various revolutions of humane affairs. but, more especially by our_ english nation; _as unto whom these things more narrowly do appertain. we having here more than half the book filled with the unparallel'd, if not inimitable, adventures and_ heroick _exploits of our own country-men, and relations; whose undaunted, and exemplary courage, when called upon by our king and country, we ought to emulate._ _from whence it hath proceeded, that nothing of this kind was ever, as yet, published in_ england, _i cannot easily determine; except, as some will say, from some secret_ ragion di stato. _let the reason be as t'will; this is certain, so much the more we are obliged unto this present author, who though a stranger unto our nation, yet with that candour and fidelity hath recorded our actions, as to render the metal of our true english valour to be the more believed and feared abroad, than if these things had been divulged by our selves at home. from hence peradventure will other nations learn, that the english people are of their genius more inclinable to act than to write; seeing as well they as we have lived unacquainted with these actions of our nation, until such time as a foreign author to our country came to tell them._ _besides the merits of this piece for its curiosity, another point of no less esteem, is the truth and sincerity wherewith everything seemeth to be penned. no greater ornament or dignity can be added unto history, either humane or natural, than truth. all other embellishments, if this be failing, are of little or no esteem; if this be delivered, are either needless or superfluous. what concerneth this requisite in our author, his lines do everywhere declare the faithfulness and sincerity of his mind. he writeth not by hearsay, but was an eye witness, as he somewhere telleth you, unto all and every one of the bold and hazardous attempts which he relateth. and these he delivereth with such candour of stile, such ingenuity of mind, such plainness of words, such conciseness of periods, so much divested of rhetorical hyperboles, or the least flourishes of eloquence, so hugely void of passion or national reflections, as that he strongly perswadeth all-along to the credit of what he saith; yea, raiseth the mind of the reader to believe these things far greater than what he hath said; and having read him, leaveth onely this scruple or concern behind, that you can read him no longer. in a word, such are his deserts, that some persons peradventure would not stickle to compare him to the father of historians_, philip de comines; _at least thus much may be said, with all truth imaginable, that he resembleth that great author in many of his excellent qualities._ _i know some persons have objected against the greatness of these prodigious adventures, intimating that the resistance our_ bucaniers _found in_ america, _was everywhere but small. for the_ spaniards, _say they, in the_ west indies, _are become of late years nothing less, but rather much more degenerate than in_ europe. _the continual peace they have enjoyed in those parts, the defect of military discipline, and_ european _souldiers for their commanders, much contributing hereunto. but more especially, and above all other reasons, the very luxury of the soil and riches, the extreme heat of those countries, and influence of the stars being such, as totally inclineth their bodies unto an infinite effeminacy and cowardize of minds._ _unto these reasons i shall only answer in brief. this history will convince them to be manifestly false. for as to the continual peace here alleadged, we know that no peace could ever be established_ beyond the line, _since the first possession of the_ west-indies _by the_ spaniards, _till the burning of_ panama. _at that time, or few months before_, sir william godolphin _by his prudent negotiation in quality of embassadour for our most gracious monarch, did conclude at_ madrid _a peace to be observed even_ beyond the line, _and through the whole extent of the spanish dominions in the_ west-indies. _this transaction gave the spaniards new causes of complaints against our proceedings, that no sooner a peace had been established for those parts of_ america, _but our forces had taken and burnt both_ chagre, st. catherine, _and_ panama. _but our reply was convincing, that whereas eight or ten months of time had been allowed by articles for the publishing of the said peace through all the dominions of both monarchies in_ america, _those hostilities had been committed, not onely without orders from his majesty of_ england, _but also within the space of the said eight or ten months of time. until that time the spanish inhabitants of_ america _being, as it were, in a perpetual war with_ europe, _certain it is that no coasts nor kingdoms in the world have been more frequently infested nor alarm'd with the invasions of several nations than theirs. thus from the very beginning of their conquests in america, both_ english, french, dutch portuguese, swedes, danes, _curlanders, and all other nations that navigate the_ ocean, _have frequented the_ west-indies, _and filled them with their robberies and assaults. from these occasions have they been in continual watch and ward, and kept their_ militia _in constant exercise, as also their garrisons pretty well provided and paid; as fearing every sail they discovered at sea, to be_ pirats _of one nation or another. but much more especially, since that_ curasao, tortuga, _and_ jamaica _have been inhabited by_ english, french, _and_ dutch, _and bred up that race of_ hunts-men, _than which, no other ever was more desperate, nor more mortal enemies to the spaniards, called bucaniers. now shall we say, that these people, through too long continuation of peace, have utterly abolished the exercises of war, having been all-along incessantly vexed with the tumults and alarms thereof?_ _in like manner is it false, to accuse their defect of military discipline for want of_ european _commanders. for who knoweth not that all places, both military and civil, through those vast dominions of the_ west-indies, _are provided out of_ spain? _and those of the militia most commonly given unto expert commanders, trained up from their infancy in the wars of_ europe, _either in_ africa, milan, sicily, naples, _or_ flanders, _fighting against either_ english, french, dutch, portuguese, _or_ moors? _yea their very garrisons, if you search them in those parts, will peradventure be found to be stock'd three parts to four with souldiers both born and bred in the kingdom of_ spain. _from these considerations it may be inferr'd what little difference ought to be allowed betwixt the spanish souldiers, inhabitants of the_ west-indies, _and those of_ europe. _and how little the soil or climate hath influenced or caused their courage to degenerate towards cowardize or baseness of mind. as if the very same argument, deduced from the nature of that climate, did not equally militate against the valour of our famous bucaniers, and represent this to be of as degenerate metal as theirs._ _but nothing can be more clearly evinced, than is the valour of the_ american spaniards, _either souldiers or officers, by the sequel of this history. what men ever fought more desperately than the garrison of_ chagre? _their number being , and of all these, only thirty remaining; of which number scarce ten were unwounded; and among them, not one officer found alive? were not killed upon the spot at_ panama, _ at_ gibraltar, _almost as many more at_ puerto del principe, _all dying with their arms in their hands, and facing bravely the enemy for the defence of their country and private concerns? did not those of the town of_ san pedro _both fortifie themselves, lay several ambuscades, and lastly sell their lives as dear as any european souldier could do; lolonois being forced to gain step by step his advance unto the town, with huge loss both of bloud and men? many other instances might be produced out of this compendious volume, of the generous resistance the_ spaniards _made in several places, though fortune favoured not their arms._ _next, as to the personal valour of many of their commanders, what man ever behaved himself more briskly than the governour of_ gibraltar, _than the governour of_ puerto del principe, _both dying for the defence of their towns; than don alonso del campo, and others? or what examples can easily parallel the desperate courage of the governour of_ chagre? _who, though the_ palizda's _were fired, the terraplens were sunk into the ditch, the breaches were entred, the houses all burnt above him, the whole castle taken, his men all killed; yet would not admit of any quarter, but chose rather to die under his arms, being shot into the brain, than surrender himself as a prisoner unto the_ bucaniers. _what lion ever fought to the last gasp more obstinately than the governour of_ puerto velo? _who, seeing the town enter'd by surprizal in the night, one chief castle blown up into the air, all the other forts and castles taken, his own assaulted several ways, both religious men and women placed at the front of the enemy to fix the ladders against the walls; yet spared not to kill as many of the said religious persons as he could. and at last, the walls being scaled, the castle enter'd and taken, all his own men overcome by fire and sword, who had cast down their arms, and begged mercy from the enemy; yet would admit of none for his own life. yet, with his own hands killed several of his souldiers, to force them to stand to their arms, though all were lost. yea, though his own wife and daughter begged of him upon their knees that he would have his life by craving quarter, though the enemy desired of him the same thing; yet would hearken to no cries nor perswasions, but they were forced to kill him, combating with his arms in his hands, being not otherwise able to take him prisoner, as they were desirous to do. shall these men be said to be influenced with cowardize, who thus acted to the very last_ scene _of their own_ tragedies? _or shall we rather say that they wanted no courage, but fortune? it being certainly true, that he who is killed in a batel, may be equally couragious with him that killeth. and that whosoever derogateth from the valour of the_ spaniards _in the_ west-indies, _diminisheth in like manner the courage of the_ bucaniers, _his own country-men, who have seemed to act beyond mortal men in_ america. _now, to say something concerning_ john esquemeling, _the first author of this history. i take him to be a_ dutch-man, _or at least born in_ flanders, _notwithstanding that the spanish translation representeth him to be a native of the kingdom of_ france. _his printing this history originally in dutch, which doubtless must be his native tongue, who otherwise was but an illiterate man, together with the very sound of his name, convincing me thereunto. true it is, he set sail from_ france, _and was some years at_ tortuga; _but neither of these two arguments, drawn from the history, are prevalent. for were he to be a_ french-man _born, how came he to learn the_ dutch _language so perfectly as to prefer it to his own? especially that not being spoken at tortuga nor_ jamaica, _where he resided all the while._ _i hope i have made this english translation something more plain and correct than the spanish. some few notorious faults either of the printer or the interpreter, i am sure i have redressed. but the spanish translator complaining much of the intricacy of stile in the original (as flowing from a person who, as hath been said, was no scholar) as he was pardonable, being in great haste, for not rendring his own version so distinct and elaborate as he could desire; so must i be excused from the one, that is to say, elegancy, if i have cautiously declined the other, i mean confusion._ the pirates of panama the buccaneers of america chapter i _the introduction--the author sets forth for the western islands, in the service of the west-india company of france--they meet with an english frigate, and arrive at the island of tortuga._ we set sail from havre-de-grace in france, from whence we set sail in the ship called _st. john_, may , . our vessel was equipped with twenty-eight guns, twenty mariners, and two hundred and twenty passengers, including those whom the company sent as free passengers. soon after we came to an anchor under the cape of barfleur, there to join seven other ships of the same west-india company, which were to come from dieppe, under convoy of a man-of-war, mounted with thirty-seven guns, and two hundred and fifty men. of these ships two were bound for senegal, five for the caribbee islands, and ours for tortuga. here gathered to us about twenty sail of other ships, bound for newfoundland, with some dutch vessels going for nantz, rochel, and st. martin's, so that in all we made thirty sail. here we put ourselves in a posture of defence, having noticed that four english frigates, of sixty guns each, waited for us near aldernay. our admiral, the chevalier sourdis, having given necessary orders, we sailed thence with a favourable gale, and some mists arising, totally impeded the english frigates from discovering our fleet. we steered our course as near as we could to the coast of france, for fear of the enemy. as we sailed along, we met a vessel of ostend, who complained to our admiral, that a french privateer had robbed him that very morning; whereupon we endeavoured to pursue the said pirate; but our labour was in vain, not being able to overtake him. our fleet, as we sailed, caused no small fears and alarms to the inhabitants of the coasts of france, these judging us to be english, and that we sought some convenient place for landing. to allay their fright, we hung out our colours; but they would not trust us. after this we came to an anchor in the bay of conquet in brittany, near ushant, there to take in water. having stored ourselves with fresh provisions here, we prosecuted our voyage, designing to pass by the ras of fontenau, and not expose ourselves to the sorlingues, fearing the english that were cruising thereabouts. the river ras is of a current very strong and rapid, which, rolling over many rocks, disgorges itself into the sea, on the coast of france, in deg. min. latitude; so that this passage is very dangerous, all the rocks, as yet, being not thoroughly known. here i shall mention the ceremony, which, at this passage, and some other places, is used by the mariners, and by them called baptism, though it may seem little to our purpose. the master's mate clothed himself with a ridiculous sort of garment, that reached to his feet, and on his head he put a suitable cap, made very burlesque; in his right hand he had a naked wooden sword, and in his left a pot full of ink: his face was horribly blacked with soot, and his neck adorned with a collar of many little pieces of wood. thus apparelled, he commanded every one to be called who had never passed through that dangerous place before; and then, causing them to kneel down, he made the sign of the cross on their foreheads, with ink, and gave every one a stroke on the shoulders with his wooden sword. meanwhile, the standers-by cast a bucket of water upon each man's head; and so ended the ceremony. but that done, each of the baptized must give a bottle of brandy, placing it nigh the main-mast, without speaking a word; even those who have no such liquor not being excused. if the vessel never passed that way before, the captain is obliged to distribute some wine among the mariners and passengers; but as for other gifts, which the newly-baptized frequently offer, they are divided among the old seamen, and of them they make a banquet among themselves. the hollanders likewise, not only at this passage, but also at the rocks called berlingues, nigh the coast of portugal, in deg. min. (being a passage very dangerous, especially by night, when, in the dark, the rocks are not distinguishable, the land being very high) they use some such ceremony: but their manner of baptizing is very different from that of the french; for he that is to be baptized is fastened, and hoisted up thrice, at the mainyard's end, as if he were a criminal. if he be hoisted the fourth time, in the name of the prince of orange, or of the captain of the vessel, his honour is more than ordinary. thus every one is dipped several times in the main ocean; but he that is dipped first has the honour of being saluted with a gun. such as are not willing to fall, must pay twelve pence for ransom; if he be an officer, two shillings; and if a passenger, at their own pleasure. if the ship never passed that way before, the captain is to give a small rundlet of wine, which, if he denies, the mariners may cut off the stem of the vessel. all the profit accruing by this ceremony is kept by the master's mate, who, after reaching their port, usually lays it out in wine, which is drank amongst the ancient seamen. some say this ceremony was instituted by the emperor charles v. though it is not amongst his laws. but here i leave these sea customs, and return to our voyage. having passed the ras, we had very good weather, till we came to cape finis terræ: here a sudden tempest surprised us, and separated our ship from the rest that were in our company. this storm continued eight days; in which time it would move compassion to see how miserably the passengers were tumbled to and fro, on all sides of the ship; insomuch, that the mariners, in the performance of their duty, were compelled to tread upon them. this boisterous weather being over, we had very favourable gales again, till we came to the tropic of cancer. this tropic is an imaginary circle, which astronomers have invented in the heavens, limiting the progress of the sun towards the north pole. it is placed in the latitude of deg. min. here we were baptized a second time, as before. the french always perform this ceremony at the tropic of cancer, as also under the tropic of capricorn. in this part of the world we had very favourable weather, at which we were very glad, because of our great want of water; for that element is so scarce with us, that we were stinted to two half pints a man every day. about the latitude of barbadoes, we met an english frigate, or privateer, who first began to give us chase; but finding herself not to exceed us in force, presently got away: hereupon, we pursued her, firing several guns, eight-pounders, at her; but at length she escaped, and we returned to our course. soon after, we came within sight of martinico. we were bent to the coast of the isle of st. peter, but were frustrated by a storm, which took us hereabouts. hence we resolved to steer to gaudaloupe, yet we could not reach this island, by reason of the said storm; so that we directed our course to the isle of tortuga, being the very same land we were bound to. we passed along the coast of punta rica, which is extremely agreeable and delightful to the sight, being adorned with beautiful woods, even to the tops of the mountains. then we discovered hispaniola (of which i shall give a description), and we coasted about it till we came to tortuga, our desired port. here we anchored, july , in the same year, not having lost one man in the voyage. we landed the goods that belonged to the west-india company, and, soon after, the ship was sent to cal de sac with some passengers. chapter ii _a description of tortuga--the fruits and plants there--how the french first settled there, at two several times, and forced out the spaniards--the author twice sold in the said island._ the island of tortuga is situate on the north side of hispaniola, in deg. min. latitude; its just extent is threescore leagues about. the spaniards, who gave name to this island, called it so from the shape of the land, in some manner resembling a great sea-tortoise, called by them tortuga-de-mar. the country is very mountainous, and full of rocks, and yet thick of lofty trees, that grow upon the hardest of those rocks, without partaking of a softer soil. hence it comes that their roots, for the greatest part, are seen naked, entangled among the rocks like the branching of ivy against our walls. that part of this island which stretches to the north is totally uninhabited: the reason is, first, because it is incommodious, and unhealthy: and, secondly, for the ruggedness of the coast, that gives no access to the shore, unless among rocks almost inaccessible: for this cause it is peopled only on the south part, which hath only one port indifferently good: yet this harbour has two entries, or channels, which afford passage to ships of seventy guns; the port itself being without danger, and capable of receiving a great number of vessels. the inhabited parts, of which the first is called the low-lands, or low-country: this is the chief among the rest, because it contains the port aforesaid. the town is called cayona, and here live the chiefest and richest planters of the island. the second part is called the middle plantation: its soil is yet almost new, being only known to be good for tobacco. the third is named ringot, and is situate towards the west part of the island. the fourth and last is called the mountain, in which place were made the first plantations upon this island. as to the wood that grows here, we have already said that the trees are exceeding tall, and pleasing to the sight; whence no man will doubt, but they may be applied to several uses. such is the yellow saunder, which by the inhabitants is called bois de chandel, or, in english, candle-wood, because it burns like a candle, and serves them with light while they fish by night. here grows, also, lingnum sanctum, or guaiacum: its virtues are very well known, more especially to those who observe not the seventh commandment, and are given to impure copulations!--physicians drawing hence, in several compositions, the greatest antidote for venereal diseases; as also for cold and viscous humours. the trees, likewise, which afford gummi elemi, grow here in great abundance; as doth radix chinæ, or china root: yet this is not so good as that of other parts of the western world. it is very white and soft, and serves for pleasant food to the wild boars, when they can find nothing else. this island, also, is not deficient in aloes, nor an infinite number of the other medicinal herbs, which may please the curiosity of such as are given to their contemplation: moreover, for building of ships, or any other sort of architecture, here are found several sorts of timber. the fruits, likewise, which grow here abundantly, are nothing inferior, in quantity or quality, to what other islands produce. i shall name only some of the most ordinary and common: such are magnoit, potatoes, abajou apples, yannas, bacones, paquays, carosoles, mamayns, annananes, and divers other sorts, which i omit to specify. here grow likewise, in great numbers, those trees called palmitoes, or palmites, whence is drawn a certain juice which serves the inhabitants instead of wine, and whose leaves cover their houses instead of tiles. in this island aboundeth, also, the wild boar. the governor hath prohibited the hunting of them with dogs, fearing lest, the island being but small, the whole race of them, in a short time, should be destroyed. the reason why he thought convenient to preserve these wild beasts was, that, in case of any invasion, the inhabitants might sustain themselves with their food, especially were they once constrained to retire to the woods and mountains. yet this sort of game is almost impeded by itself, by reason of the many rocks and precipices, which, for the greatest part, are covered with little shrubs, very green and thick; whence the huntsmen have oftentimes fallen, and left us the sad remembrance of many a memorable disaster. at a certain time of the year there resort to tortuga large flocks of wild pigeons, and then the inhabitants feed on them very plentifully, having more than they can consume, and leaving totally to their repose all other sorts of fowl, both wild and tame; that so, in the absence of the pigeons, these may supply their place. but as nothing in the universe, though never so pleasant, can be found, but what hath something of bitterness with it; the very symbol of this truth we see in the aforesaid pigeons: for these, the season being past, can scarce be touched with the tongue, they become so extremely lean, and bitter even to admiration. the reason of this bitterness is attributed to a certain seed which they eat about that time, even as bitter as gall. about the sea-shores, everywhere, are found great multitudes of crabs, both of land and sea, and both sorts very big. these are good to feed servants and slaves, whose palates they please, but are very hurtful to the sight: besides, being eaten too often, they cause great giddiness in the head, with much weakness of the brain; so that, very frequently, they are deprived of sight for a quarter of an hour. the french having settled in the isle of st. christopher, planted there a sort of trees, of which, at present, there possibly may be greater quantities; with the timber whereof they made long-boats, and hoys, which they sent thence westward, well manned and victualled, to discover other islands. these setting sail from st. christopher, came within sight of hispaniola, where they arrived with abundance of joy. having landed, they marched into the country, where they found large quantities of cattle; such as cows, bulls, horses, and wild boars: but finding no great profit in these animals, unless they could enclose them, and knowing, likewise, the island to be pretty well peopled by the spaniards, they thought it convenient to enter upon and seize the island of tortuga. this they performed without any difficulty, there being upon the island no more than ten or twelve spaniards to guard it. these few men let the french come in peaceably, and possess the island for six months, without any trouble; meanwhile they passed and repassed, with their canoes, to hispaniola, from whence they transported many people, and at last began to plant the whole island of tortuga. the few spaniards remaining there, perceiving the french to increase their number daily, began, at last, to repine at their prosperity, and grudge them the possession: hence they gave notice to others of their nation, their neighbours, who sent several boats, well armed and manned, to dispossess the french. this expedition succeeded according to their desires; for the new possessors, seeing the great number of spaniards, fled with all they had to the woods, and hence, by night, they wafted over with canoes to the island of hispaniola: this they the more easily performed, having no women or children with them, nor any great substance to carry away. here they also retired into the woods, both to seek for food, and from thence, with secrecy, to give intelligence to others of their own faction; judging for certain, that within a little while they should be in a capacity to hinder the spaniards from fortifying in tortuga. meanwhile, the spaniards of the great island ceased not to seek after their new guests, the french, with intent to root them out of the woods if possible, or cause them to perish with hunger; but this design soon failed, having found that the french were masters both of good guns, powder, and bullets. here therefore the fugitives waited for a certain opportunity, wherein they knew the spaniards were to come from tortuga with arms, and a great number of men, to join with those of the greater island for their destruction. when this occasion offered, they in the meanwhile deserting the woods where they were, returned to tortuga, and dispossessed the small number of spaniards that remained at home. having so done, they fortified themselves the best they could, thereby to prevent the return of the spaniards in case they should attempt it. moreover, they sent immediately to the governor of st. christopher's, craving his aid and relief, and demanding of him a governor, the better to be united among themselves, and strengthened on all occasions. the governor of st. christopher's received their petition with much satisfaction, and, without delay, sent monsieur le passeur to them in quality of a governor, together with a ship full of men, and all necessaries for their establishment and defence. no sooner had they received this recruit, but the governor commanded a fortress to be built upon the top of a high rock, from whence he could hinder the entrance of any ships or other vessels to the port. to this fort no other access could be had, than by almost climbing through a very narrow passage that was capable only of receiving two persons at once, and those not without difficulty. in the middle of this rock was a great cavity, which now serves for a storehouse: besides, here was great convenience for raising a battery. the fort being finished, the governor commanded two guns to be mounted, which could not be done without great toil and labour; as also a house to be built within the fort, and afterwards the narrow way, that led to the said fort, to be broken and demolished, leaving no other ascent thereto than by a ladder. within the fort gushes out a plentiful fountain of pure fresh water, sufficient to refresh a garrison of a thousand men. being possessed of these conveniences, and the security these things might promise, the french began to people the island, and each of them to seek their living; some by hunting, others by planting tobacco, and others by cruizing and robbing upon the coasts of the spanish islands, which trade is continued by them to this day. the spaniards, notwithstanding, could not behold, but with jealous eyes, the daily increase of the french in tortuga, fearing lest, in time, they might by them be dispossessed also of hispaniola. thus taking an opportunity (when many of the french were abroad at sea, and others employed in hunting), with eight hundred men, in several canoes, they landed again in tortuga, almost without being perceived by the french; but finding that the governor had cut down many trees for the better discovery of any enemy in case of an assault, as also that nothing of consequence could be done without great guns, they consulted about the fittest place for raising a battery. this place was soon concluded to be the top of a mountain which was in sight, seeing that from thence alone they could level their guns at the fort, which now lay open to them since the cutting down of the trees by the new possessors. hence they resolved to open a way for the carriage of some pieces of ordnance to the top. this mountain is somewhat high, and the upper part thereof plain, from whence the whole island may be viewed: the sides thereof are very rugged, by reason a great number of inaccessible rocks do surround it; so that the ascent was very difficult, and would always have been the same, had not the spaniards undergone the immense labour and toil of making the way before mentioned, as i shall now relate. the spaniards had with them many slaves and indians, labouring men, whom they call matades, or, in english, half-yellow men; these they ordered with iron tools to dig a way through the rocks. this they performed with the greatest speed imaginable; and through this way, by the help of many ropes and pulleys, they at last made shift to get up two pieces of ordnance, wherewith they made a battery next day, to play on the fort. meanwhile, the french knowing these designs, prepared for a defence (while the spaniards were busy about the battery) sending notice everywhere to their companions for help. thus the hunters of the island all joined together, and with them all the pirates who were not already too far from home. these landed by night at tortuga, lest they should be seen by the spaniards; and, under the same obscurity of the night, they all together, by a back way, climbed the mountain where the spaniards were posted, which they did the more easily being acquainted with these rocks. they came up at the very instant that the spaniards, who were above, were preparing to shoot at the fort, not knowing in the least of their coming. here they set upon them at their backs with such fury as forced the greatest part to precipitate themselves from the top to the bottom, and dash their bodies in pieces: few or none escaped; for if any remained alive, they were put to the sword. some spaniards did still keep the bottom of the mountain; but these, hearing the shrieks and cries of them that were killed, and believing some tragical revolution to be above, fled immediately towards the sea, despairing ever to regain the island of tortuga. the governors of this island behaved themselves as proprietors and absolute lords thereof till , when the west-india company of france took possession thereof, and sent thither, for their governor, monsieur ogeron. these planted the colony for themselves by their factors and servants, thinking to drive some considerable trade from thence with the spaniards, even as the hollanders do from curacao: but this design did not answer; for with other nations they could drive no trade, by reason they could not establish any secure commerce from the beginning with their own; forasmuch as at the first institution of this company in france they agreed with the pirates, hunters, and planters, first possessors of tortuga, that these should buy all their necessaries from the said company upon trust. and though this agreement was put in execution, yet the factors of the company soon after found that they could not recover either monies or returns from those people, that they were constrained to bring some armed men into the island, in behalf of the company, to get in some of their payments. but neither this endeavour, nor any other, could prevail towards the settling a second trade with those of the island. hereupon, the company recalled their factors, giving them orders to sell all that was their own in the said plantation, both the servants belonging to the company (which were sold, some for twenty, and others for thirty pieces of eight), as also all other merchandizes and proprieties. and thus all their designs fell to the ground. on this occasion i was also sold, being a servant under the said company in whose service i left france: but my fortune was very bad, for i fell into the hands of the most cruel and perfidious man that ever was born, who was then governor, or rather lieutenant-general, of that island. this man treated me with all the hard usage imaginable, yea, with that of hunger, with which i thought i should have perished inevitably. withal, he was willing to let me buy my freedom and liberty, but not under the rate of three hundred pieces of eight, i not being master of one at a time in the world. at last, through the manifold miseries i endured, as also affliction of mind, i was thrown into a dangerous sickness. this misfortune, added to the rest, was the cause of my happiness: for my wicked master, seeing my condition, began to fear lest he should lose his monies with my life. hereupon he sold me a second time to a surgeon, for seventy pieces of eight. being with this second master, i began soon to recover my health through the good usage i received, he being much more humane and civil than my first patron. he gave me both clothes and very good food; and after i had served him but one year, he offered me my liberty, with only this condition, that i should pay him one hundred pieces of eight when i was in a capacity so to do; which kind proposal of his i could not but accept with infinite joy and gratitude. being now at liberty, though like adam when he was first created--that is, naked and destitute of all human necessaries--not knowing how to get my living, i determined to enter into the order of the pirates or robbers at sea. into this society i was received with common consent, both of the superior and vulgar sort, where i continued till . having assisted them in all their designs and attempts, and served them in many notable exploits (of which hereafter i shall give the reader a true account), i returned to my own native country. but before i begin my relation, i shall say something of the island hispaniola, which lies towards the western part of america; as also give my reader a brief description thereof, according to my slender ability and experience. chapter iii _a description of hispaniola.--also a relation of the french buccaneers._ the large and rich island called hispaniola is situate from degrees to degrees latitude; the circumference is leagues; the extent from east to west ; its breadth almost , being broader or narrower at certain places. this island was first discovered by christopher columbus, a.d. ; he being sent for this purpose by ferdinand, king of spain; from which time to this present the spaniards have been continually possessors thereof. there are upon this island very good and strong cities, towns, and hamlets, as well as a great number of pleasant country houses and plantations, the effects of the care and industry of the spaniards its inhabitants. the chief city and metropolis hereof is santo domingo; being dedicated to st. dominic, from whom it derives its name. it is situate towards the south, and affords a most excellent prospect; the country round about being embellished with innumerable rich plantations, as also verdant meadows and fruitful gardens; all which produce plenty and variety of excellent pleasant fruits, according to the nature of those countries. the governor of the island resides in this city, which is, as it were, the storehouse of all the cities, towns, and villages, which hence export and provide themselves with all necessaries for human life; and yet hath it this particularity above many other cities, that it entertains no commerce with any nation but its own, the spaniards. the greatest part of the inhabitants are rich and substantial merchants or shopkeepers. another city of this island is san jago, or st. james, being consecrated to that apostle. this is an open place, without walls or castle, situate in deg. latitude. the inhabitants are generally hunters and planters, the adjacent territory and soil being very proper for the said exercises: the city is surrounded with large and delicious fields, as much pleasing to the view as those of santo domingo; and these abound with beasts both wild and tame, yielding vast numbers of skins and hides, very profitable to the owners. in the south part of this island is another city, called nuestra sennora de alta gracia. this territory produces great quantities of cacao, whereof the inhabitants make great store of the richest chocolate. here grows also ginger and tobacco, and much tallow is made of the beasts which are hereabouts hunted. the inhabitants of this beautiful island of hispaniola often resort in their canoes to the isle of savona, not far distant, where is their chief fishery, especially of tortoises. hither those fish constantly resort in great multitudes, at certain seasons, there to lay their eggs, burying them in the sands of the shoal, where, by the heat of the sun, which in those parts is very ardent, they are hatched. this island of savona has little or nothing that is worthy consideration, being so very barren by reason of its sandy soil. true it is, that here grows some small quantity of lignum sanctum, or guaiacum, of whose use we say something in another place. westward of santo domingo is another great village called el pueblo de aso, or the town of aso: the inhabitants thereof drive great traffic with those of another village, in the very middle of the island, and is called san juan de goave, or st. john of goave. this is environed with a magnificent prospect of gardens, woods, and meadows. its territory extends above twenty leagues in length, and grazes a great number of wild bulls and cows. in this village scarce dwell any others than hunters and butchers, who flay the beasts that are killed. these are for the most part a mongrel sort of people; some of which are born of white european people and negroes, and called mulattoes: others of indians and white people, and termed mesticos: but others come of negroes and indians, and are called alcatraces. from the said village are exported yearly vast quantities of tallow and hides, they exercising no other traffic: for as to the lands in this place, they are not cultivated, by reason of the excessive dryness of the soil. these are the chiefest places that the spaniards possess in this island, from the cape of lobos towards st. john de goave, unto the cape of samana nigh the sea, on the north side, and from the eastern part towards the sea, called punta de espada. all the rest of the island is possessed by the french, who are also planters and hunters. this island hath very good ports for ships, from the cape of lobos to the cape of tiburon, on the west side thereof. in this space there are no less than four ports, exceeding in goodness, largeness, and security, even the very best of england. besides these, from the cape of tiburon to the cape of donna maria, there are two very excellent ports; and from this cape to the cape of st. nicholas, there are no less than twelve others. every one of these ports hath also the confluence of two or three good rivers, in which are great plenty of several sorts of fish very pleasing to the palate. the country hereabouts is well watered with large and deep rivers and brooks, so that this part of the land may easily be cultivated without any great fear of droughts, because of these excellent streams. the sea-coasts and shores are also very pleasant, to which the tortoises resort in large numbers to lay their eggs. this island was formerly very well peopled, on the north side, with many towns and villages; but these, being ruined by the hollanders, were at last, for the greatest part, deserted by the spaniards. the spacious fields of this island commonly are five or six leagues in length, the beauty whereof is so pleasing to the eye, that, together with the great variety of their natural productions, they captivate the senses of the beholder. for here at once they not only with diversity of objects recreate the sight, but with many of the same do also please the smell, and with most contribute delights to the taste; also they flatter and excite the appetite, especially with the multitudes of oranges and lemons here growing, both sweet and sour, and those that participate of both tastes, and are only pleasantly tartish. besides here abundantly grow several sorts of fruit, such are citrons, toronjas, and limas; in english not improperly called crab lemons. beside the fruit which this island produces, whose plenty, as is said, surpasses all the islands of america; it abounds also with all sorts of quadrupeds, as horses, bulls, cows, wild boars, and others, very useful to mankind, not only for food, but for cultivating the ground, and the management of commerce. here are vast numbers of wild dogs: these destroy yearly many cattle; for no sooner hath a cow calved, or a mare foaled, but these wild mastiffs devour the young, if they find not resistance from keepers and domestic dogs. they run up and down the woods and fields, commonly fifty, threescore, or more, together; being withal so fierce, that they will often assault an entire herd of wild boars, not ceasing to worry them till they have fetched down two or three. one day a french buccaneer showed me a strange action of this kind: being in the fields a-hunting together, we heard a great noise of dogs which has surrounded a wild boar: having tame dogs with us, we left them to the custody of our servants, being desirous to see the sport. hence my companion and i climbed up two several trees, both for security and prospect. the wild boar, all alone, stood against a tree, defending himself with his tusks from a great number of dogs that enclosed him; killed with his teeth, and wounded several of them. this bloody fight continued about an hour; the wild boar, meanwhile, attempting many times to escape. at last flying, one dog, leaping upon his back, fastened on his throat. the rest of the dogs, perceiving the courage of their companion, fastened likewise on the boar, and presently killed him. this done, all of them, the first only excepted, laid themselves down upon the ground about the prey, and there peaceably continued, till he, the first and most courageous of the troop, had ate as much as he could: when this dog had left off, all the rest fell in to take their share, till nothing was left. what ought we to infer from this notable action, performed by wild animals, but this: that even beasts themselves are not destitute of knowledge, and that they give us documents how to honour such as have deserved well; even since these irrational animals did reverence and respect him that exposed his life to the greatest danger against the common enemy? the governor of tortuga, monsieur ogeron, finding that the wild dogs killed so many of the wild boars, that the hunters of that island had much ado to find any; fearing lest that common substance of the island should fail, sent for a great quantity of poison from france to destroy the wild mastiffs: this was done, a.d. , by commanding horses to be killed, and empoisoned, and laid open at certain places where the wild dogs used to resort. this being continued for six months, there were killed an incredible number; and yet all this could not exterminate and destroy the race, or scarce diminish them; their number appearing almost as large as before. these wild dogs are easily tamed among men, even as tame as ordinary house dogs. the hunters of those parts, whenever they find a wild bitch with whelps, commonly take away the puppies, and bring them home; which being grown up, they hunt much better than other dogs. but here the curious reader may perhaps inquire how so many wild dogs came here. the occasion was, the spaniards having possessed these isles, found them peopled with indians, a barbarous people, sensual and brutish, hating all labour, and only inclined to killing, and making war against their neighbours; not out of ambition, but only because they agreed not with themselves in some common terms of language; and perceiving the dominion of the spaniards laid great restrictions upon their lazy and brutish customs, they conceived an irreconcilable hatred against them; but especially because they saw them take possession of their kingdoms and dominions. hereupon, they made against them all the resistance they could, opposing everywhere their designs to the utmost: and the spaniards finding themselves cruelly hated by the indians, and nowhere secure from their treacheries, resolved to extirpate and ruin them, since they could neither tame them by civility, nor conquer them with the sword. but the indians, it being their custom to make the woods their chief places of defence, at present made these their refuge, whenever they fled from the spaniards. hereupon, those first conquerors of the new world made use of dogs to range and search the intricatest thickets of woods and forests for those their implacable and unconquerable enemies: thus they forced them to leave their old refuge, and submit to the sword, seeing no milder usage would do it; hereupon they killed some of them, and quartering their bodies, placed them in the highways, that others might take warning from such a punishment; but this severity proved of ill consequence, for instead of fighting them and reducing them to civility, they conceived such horror of the spaniards, that they resolved to detest and fly their sight for ever; hence the greatest part died in caves and subterraneous places of the woods and mountains, in which places i myself have often seen great numbers of human bones. the spaniards finding no more indians to appear about the woods, turned away a great number of dogs they had in their houses, and they finding no masters to keep them, betook themselves to the woods and fields to hunt for food to preserve their lives; thus by degrees they became unacquainted with houses, and grew wild. this is the truest account i can give of the multitudes of wild dogs in these parts. but besides these wild mastiffs, here are also great numbers of wild horses everywhere all over the island: they are but low of stature, short bodied, with great heads, long necks, and big or thick legs: in a word, they have nothing handsome in their shape. they run up and down commonly in troops of two or three hundred together, one going always before to lead the multitude: when they meet any person travelling through the woods or fields, they stand still, suffering him to approach till he can almost touch them: and then suddenly starting, they betake themselves to flight, running away as fast as they can. the hunters catch them only for their skins, though sometimes they preserve their flesh likewise, which they harden with smoke, using it for provisions when they go to sea. here would be also wild bulls and cows in great number, if by continual hunting they were not much diminished; yet considerable profit is made to this day by such as make it their business to kill them. the wild bulls are of a vast bigness of body, and yet they hurt not any one except they be exasperated. their hides are from eleven to thirteen feet long. it is now time to speak of the french who inhabit great part of this island. we have already told how they came first into these parts: we shall now only describe their manner of living, customs, and ordinary employments. the callings or professions they follow are generally but three, either to hunt or plant, or else to rove the seas as pirates. it is a constant custom among them all, to seek out a comrade or companion, whom we may call partner in their fortunes, with whom they join the whole stock of what they possess towards a common gain. this is done by articles agreed to, and reciprocally signed. some constitute their surviving companion absolute heir to what is left by the death of the first: others, if they be married, leave their estates to their wives and children; others, to other relations. this done, every one applies himself to his calling, which is always one of the three afore-mentioned. the hunters are again subdivided into two sorts; for some of these only hunt wild bulls and cows, others only wild boars. the first of these are called bucaniers, and not long ago were about six hundred on this island, but now they are reckoned about three hundred. the cause has been the great decrease of wild cattle, which has been such, that, far from getting, they now are but poor in their trade. when the bucaniers go into the woods to hunt for wild bulls and cows, they commonly remain there a twelvemonth or two years, without returning home. after the hunt is over, and the spoil divided, they commonly sail to tortuga, to provide themselves with guns, powder, and shot, and other necessaries for another expedition; the rest of their gains they spend prodigally, giving themselves to all manner of vices and debauchery, particularly to drunkenness, which they practise mostly with brandy: this they drink as liberally as the spaniards do water. sometimes they buy together a pipe of wine; this they stave at one end, and never cease drinking till it is out. thus sottishly they live till they have no money left. the said bucaniers are very cruel and tyrannical to their servants, so that commonly they had rather be galley-slaves, or saw brazil wood in the rasphouses of holland, than serve such barbarous masters. the second sort hunt nothing but wild boars; the flesh of these they salt, and sell it so to the planters. these hunters have the same vicious customs, and are as much addicted to debauchery as the former; but their manner of hunting is different from that in europe; for these bucaniers have certain places designed for hunting, where they live for three or four months, and sometimes a whole year. such places are called deza boulan; and in these, with only the company of five or six friends, they continue all the said time in mutual friendship. the first bucaniers many times agree with planters to furnish them with meat all the year at a certain price: the payment hereof is often made with two or three hundredweight of tobacco in the leaf; but the planters commonly into the bargain furnish them with a servant, whom they send to help. to the servant they afford sufficient necessaries for the purpose, especially of powder and shot to hunt withal. the planters here have but very few slaves; for want of which, themselves and their servants are constrained to do all the drudgery. these servants commonly bind themselves to their masters for three years; but their masters, having no consciences, often traffic with their bodies, as with horses at a fair, selling them to other masters as they sell negroes. yea, to advance this trade, some persons go purposely into france (and likewise to england, and other countries) to pick up young men or boys, whom they inveigle and transport; and having once got them into these islands, they work them like horses, the toil imposed on them being much harder than what they enjoin the negroes, their slaves; for these they endeavour to preserve, being their perpetual bondmen: but for their white servants, they care not whether they live or die, seeing they are to serve them no longer than three years. these miserable kidnapped people are frequently subject to a disease, which in these parts is called coma, being a total privation of their senses. this distemper is judged to proceed from their hard usage, and the change of their native climate; and there being often among these some of good quality, tender education, and soft constitutions, they are more easily seized with this disease, and others of those countries, than those of harder bodies, and laborious lives. beside the hard usage in their diet, apparel, and rest, many times they beat them so cruelly, that they fall down dead under the hands of their cruel masters. this i have often seen with great grief. of the many instances, i shall only give you the following history, it being remarkable in its circumstances. a certain planter of these countries exercised such cruelty towards one of his servants, as caused him to run away. having absconded, for some days, in the woods, at last he was taken, and brought back to the wicked pharaoh. no sooner had he got him, but he commanded him to be tied to a tree; here he gave him so many lashes on his naked back, as made his body run with an entire stream of blood; then, to make the smart of his wounds the greater, he anointed him with lemon-juice, mixed with salt and pepper. in this miserable posture he left him tied to the tree for twenty-four hours, which being past, he began his punishment again, lashing him, as before, so cruelly, that the miserable wretch gave up the ghost, with these dying words: "i beseech the almighty god, creator of heaven and earth, that he permit the wicked spirit to make thee feel as many torments before thy death, as thou hast caused me to feel before mine." a strange thing, and worthy of astonishment and admiration! scarce three or four days were past, after this horrible fact, when the almighty judge, who had heard the cries of the tormented wretch, suffered the evil one suddenly to possess this barbarous and inhuman homicide, so that those cruel hands which had punished to death his innocent servant, were the tormentors of his own body: for he beat himself and tore his flesh, after a miserable manner, till he lost the very shape of a man; not ceasing to howl and cry, without any rest by day or night. thus he continued raving mad, till he died. many other examples of this kind i could rehearse; but these not belonging to our present discourse, i omit them. the planters of the caribbee islands are rather worse, and more cruel to their servants, than the former. in the isle of st. christopher dwells one named bettesa, well known to the dutch merchants, who has killed above a hundred of his servants with blows and stripes. the english do the same with their servants; and the mildest cruelty they exercise towards them is, that when they have served six years of their time (they being bound among the english for seven) they use them so cruelly, as to force them to beg of their masters to sell them to others, though it be to begin another servitude of seven years, or at least three or four. and i have known many, who have thus served fifteen or twenty years, before they could obtain their freedom. another law, very rigorous in that nation, is, if any man owes another above twenty-five shillings english, if he cannot pay it, he is liable to be sold for six or eight months. not to trouble the reader any longer with relations of this kind, i shall now describe the famous actions and exploits of the greatest pirates of my time, during my residence in those parts: these i shall relate without the least passion or partiality, and assure my reader that i shall give him no stories upon trust, or hearsay, but only those enterprises to which i was myself an eye-witness. chapter iv _original of the most famous pirates of the coasts of america--famous exploit of pierre le grand._ i have told you in the preceding chapters how i was compelled to adventure my life among the pirates of america; which sort of men i name so, because they are not authorized by any sovereign prince: for the kings of spain having on several occasions sent their ambassadors to the kings of england and france, to complain of the molestations and troubles those pirates often caused on the coasts of america, even in the calm of peace; it hath always been answered, "that such men did not commit those acts of hostility and piracy as subjects to their majesties; and therefore his catholic majesty might proceed against them as he should think fit." the king of france added, "that he had no fortress nor castle upon hispaniola, neither did he receive a farthing of tribute from thence." and the king of england adjoined, "that he had never given any commissions to those of jamaica, to commit hostilities against the subjects of his catholic majesty." nor did he only give this bare answer, but out of his royal desire to pleasure the court of spain, recalled the governor of jamaica, placing another in his room; all which could not prevent these pirates from acting as heretofore. but before i relate their bold actions, i shall say something of their rise and exercises; as also of the chiefest of them, and their manner of arming themselves before they put to sea. the first pirate that was known upon tortuga was pierre le grand, or peter the great. he was born at dieppe in normandy. that action which rendered him famous was his taking the vice-admiral of the spanish flota, near the cape of tiburon, on the west side of hispaniola; this he performed with only one boat, and twenty-eight men. now till that time the spaniards had passed and repassed with all security, through the channel of bahama; so that pierre le grand setting out to sea by the caycos, he took this great ship with all the ease imaginable. the spaniards they found aboard they set ashore, and sent the vessel to france. the manner how this undaunted spirit attempted and took this large ship i shall give you, out of the journal of the author, in his own words. "the boat," says he, "wherein pierre le grand was with his companions, had been at sea a long time without finding any prize worth his taking; and their provisions beginning to fail, they were in danger of starving. being almost reduced to despair, they spied a great ship of the spanish flota, separated from the rest; this vessel they resolved to take, or die in the attempt. hereupon, they sailed towards her, to view her strength. and though they judged the vessel to be superior to theirs, yet their covetousness, and the extremity they were reduced to, made them venture. being come so near that they could not possibly escape, they made an oath to their captain, pierre le grand, to stand by him to the last. 'tis true, the pirates did believe they should find the ship unprovided to fight, and thereby the sooner master her. it was in the dusk of the evening they began to attack; but before they engaged, they ordered the surgeon of the boat to bore a hole in the sides of it, that their own vessel sinking under them, they might be compelled to attack more vigorously, and endeavour more hastily to board the ship. this was done accordingly, and without any other arms than a pistol in one hand and a sword in the other, they immediately climbed up the sides of the ship, and ran altogether into the great cabin, where they found the captain, with several of his companions, playing at cards. here they set a pistol to his breast, commanding him to deliver up the ship. the spaniards, surprised to see the pirates on board their ship, cried 'jesus bless us! are these devils, or what are they?' meanwhile some of them took possession of the gun-room, and seized the arms, killing as many as made any opposition; whereupon the spaniards presently surrendered. that very day the captain of the ship had been told by some of the seamen that the boat which was in view, cruising, was a boat of pirates; whom the captain slightly answered, 'what then, must i be afraid of such a pitiful thing as that is? no, though she were a ship as big and as strong as mine is.' as soon as pierre le grand had taken this rich prize, he detained in his service as many of the common seamen as he had need of, setting the rest ashore, and then set sail for france, where he continued, without ever returning to america again." [illustration: "pierre le grand commanding the spanish captain to surrender the ship"--_page _] the planters and hunters of tortuga had no sooner heard of the rich prize those pirates had taken, but they resolved to follow their example. hereupon, many of them left their employments, and endeavoured to get some small boats, wherein to exercise piracy; but not being able to purchase, or build them at tortuga, they resolved to set forth in their canoes, and seek them elsewhere. with these they cruised at first upon cape de alvarez, where the spaniards used to trade from one city to another in small vessels, in which they carry hides, tobacco, and other commodities, to the havannah, and to which the spaniards from europe do frequently resort. here it was that those pirates at first took a great many boats laden with the aforesaid commodities; these they used to carry to tortuga, and sell the whole purchase to the ships that waited for their return, or accidentally happened to be there. with the gains of these prizes they provided themselves with necessaries, wherewith to undertake other voyages, some of which were made to campechy, and others toward new spain; in both which the spaniards then drove a great trade. upon those coasts they found great numbers of trading vessels, and often ships of great burden. two of the biggest of these vessels, and two great ships which the spaniards had laden with plate in the port of campechy, to go to the caraccas, they took in less than a month's time, and carried to tortuga; where the people of the whole island, encouraged by their success, especially seeing in two years the riches of the country so much increased, they augmented the number of pirates so fast, that in a little time there were, in that small island and port, above twenty ships of this sort of people. hereupon the spaniards, not able to bear their robberies any longer, equipped two large men-of-war, both for the defence of their own coasts, and to cruise upon the enemies. chapter v _how the pirates arm their vessels, and regulate their voyages._ before the pirates go to sea, they give notice to all concerned, of the day on which they are to embark; obliging each man to bring so many pounds of powder and ball as they think necessary. being all come aboard, they consider where to get provisions, especially flesh, seeing they scarce eat anything else; and of this the most common sort is pork; the next food is tortoises, which they salt a little: sometimes they rob such or such hog-yards, where the spaniards often have a thousand head of swine together. they come to these places in the night, and having beset the keeper's lodge, they force him to rise, and give them as many heads as they desire, threatening to kill him if he refuses, or makes any noise; and these menaces are oftentimes executed on the miserable swine-keepers, or any other person that endeavours to hinder their robberies. having got flesh sufficient for their voyage, they return to their ship: here they allow, twice a day, every one as much as he can eat, without weight or measure; nor does the steward of the vessel give any more flesh, or anything else, to the captain, than to the meanest mariner. the ship being well victualled, they deliberate whither they shall go to seek their desperate fortunes, and likewise agree upon certain articles, which are put in writing, which every one is bound to observe; and all of them, or the chiefest part, do set their hands to it. here they set down distinctly what sums of money each particular person ought to have for that voyage, the fund of all the payments being what is gotten by the whole expedition; for otherwise it is the same law among these people as with other pirates. no prey, no pay. first, therefore, they mention how much the captain is to have for his ship; next, the salary of the carpenter, or shipwright, who careened, mended, and rigged the vessel: this commonly amounts to one hundred or one hundred and fifty pieces of eight, according to the agreement. afterwards, for provisions and victualling, they draw out of the same common stock about two hundred pieces of eight; also a salary for the surgeon, and his chest of medicaments, which usually is rated at two hundred or two hundred and fifty pieces of eight. lastly, they agree what rate each one ought to have that is either wounded or maimed in his body, suffering the loss of any limb; as, for the loss of a right arm, six hundred pieces of eight, or six slaves; for the left arm, five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves; for a right leg, five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves; for the left leg, four hundred pieces of eight, or four slaves; for an eye, one hundred pieces of eight, or one slave; for a finger, the same as for an eye. all which sums are taken out of the common stock of what is gotten by their piracy, and a very exact and equal dividend is made of the remainder. they have also regard to qualities and places: thus the captain, or chief, is allotted five or six portions, to what the ordinary seamen have: the master's mate only two, and other officers proportionately to their employ: after which, they draw equal parts from the highest to the lowest mariner, the boys not being omitted, who draw half a share; because when they take a better vessel than their own, it is in the boys' duty to fire their former vessel, and then retire to the prize. they observe among themselves very good orders; for in the prizes which they take, it is severely prohibited, to every one, to take anything to themselves: hence all they take is equally divided, as hath been said before: yea, they take a solemn oath to each other, not to conceal the least thing they find among the prizes; and if any one is found false to the said oath, he is immediately turned out of the society. they are very civil and charitable to each other; so that if any one wants what another has, with great willingness they give it one to another. as soon as these pirates have taken a prize, they immediately set ashore the prisoners, detaining only some few, for their own help and service: whom, also, they release, after two or three years. they refresh themselves at one island or another, but especially at those on the south of cuba; here they careen their vessels, while some hunt, and others cruise in canoes for prizes. the inhabitants of new spain and campechy lade their best merchandize in ships of great bulk: the vessels from campechy sail in the winter to caraccas, trinity isles, and that of margarita, and return back again in the summer. the pirates knowing these seasons (being very diligent in their inquiries) always cruise between the places above-mentioned; but in case they light on no considerable booty, they commonly undertake some more hazardous enterprises: one remarkable instance of which i shall here give you. a certain pirate called pierre françois, or peter francis, waiting a long time at sea with his boat and twenty-six men, for the ships that were to return from maracaibo to campechy, and not being able to find any prey, at last he resolved to direct his course to rancheiras, near the river de la plata, in deg. and a half north latitude. here lies a rich bank of pearl, to the fishery whereof they yearly sent from carthagena twelve vessels with a man-of-war for their defence. every vessel has at least two negroes in it, who are very dextrous in diving to the depth of six fathoms, where they find good store of pearls. on this fleet, called the pearl-fleet, pierre françois resolved to venture, rather than go home empty; they then rid at anchor at the mouth of the river de la hacha, the man-of-war scarce half a league distant from the small ships, and the wind very calm. having spied them in this posture, he presently pulled down his sails, and rowed along the coast feigning to be a spanish vessel coming from maracaibo; but no sooner was he come to the pearl-bank, when suddenly he assaulted the vice-admiral of eight guns and sixty men, commanding them to surrender. the spaniards made a good defence for some time, but at last were forced to submit. having thus taken the vice-admiral, he resolved to attempt the man-of-war, with which addition he hoped to master the rest of the fleet: to this end he presently sunk his own boat, putting forth the spanish colours, and weighed anchor with a little wind which then began to stir, having with threats and promises compelled most of the spaniards to assist him: but so soon as the man-of-war perceived one of his fleet to sail, he did so too, fearing lest the mariners designed to run away with the riches they had on board. the pirate on this immediately gave over the enterprise, thinking themselves unable to encounter force to force: hereupon they endeavoured to get out of the river and gain the open seas, by making as much sail as they could; which the man-of-war perceiving, he presently gave them chase, but the pirates having laid on too much sail, and a gust of wind suddenly rising, their main-mast was brought by the board, which disabled them from escaping. this unhappy event much encouraged those in the man-of-war, they gaining upon the pirates every moment, and at last overtook them; but finding they had twenty-two sound men, the rest being either killed or wounded, resolved to defend themselves as long as possible; this they performed very courageously for some time, till they were forced by the man-of-war, on condition that they should not be used as slaves to carry stones, or be employed in other labours for three or four years, as they served their negroes, but that they should be set safe ashore on free land. on these articles they yielded with all they had taken, which was worth, in pearls alone, above , pieces of eight, besides the vessel, provisions, goods, &c. all of which would have made this a greater prize than he could desire, which he had certainly carried off, if his main-mast had not been lost, as we said before. another bold attempt like this, no less remarkable, i shall also give you. a certain pirate of portugal, thence called bartholomew portugues, was cruising in a boat of thirty men and four small guns from jamaica, upon the cape de corriente in cuba, where he met a great ship from maracaibo and carthagena, bound for the havannah, well provided with twenty great guns and seventy men, passengers and mariners; this ship he presently assaulted, which they on board as resolutely defended. the pirate escaping the first encounter, resolved to attack her more vigorously than before, seeing he had yet suffered no great damage: this he performed with so much resolution, that at last, after a long and dangerous fight, he became master of it. the portuguese lost only ten men, and had four wounded; so that he had still remaining twenty fighting men, whereas the spaniards had double the number. having possessed themselves of the ship, the wind being contrary to return to jamaica, they resolved to steer to cape st. anthony (which lies west of cuba), there to repair and take in fresh water, of which they were then in great want. being very near the cape abovesaid, they unexpectedly met with three great ships coming from new spain, and bound for the havannah; by these not being able to escape, they were easily retaken, both ship and pirates, and all made prisoners, and stripped of all the riches they had taken but just before. the cargo consisted in , weight of cocoa-nuts, the chief ingredient of chocolate, and , pieces of eight. two days after this misfortune, there arose a great storm, which separated the ships from one another. the great vessel, where the pirates were, arrived at campechy, where many considerable merchants came and saluted the captain; these presently knew the portuguese pirate, being infamous for the many insolencies, robberies and murders he had committed on their coasts, which they kept fresh in their memory. the next day after their arrival, the magistrates of the city sent to demand the prisoners from on board the ship, in order to punish them according to their deserts; but fearing the captain of the pirates should make his escape (as he had formerly done, being their prisoner once before) they judged it safer to leave him guarded on ship-board for the present, while they erected a gibbet to hang him on the next day, without any other process than to lead him from the ship to his punishment; the rumour of which was presently brought to bartholomew portugues, whereby he sought all possible means to escape that night: with this design he took two earthen jars, wherein the spaniards carry wine from spain to the west indies, and stopped them very well, intending to use them for swimming, as those unskilled in that art do corks or empty bladders; having made this necessary preparation, he waited when all should be asleep; but not being able to escape his sentinel's vigilance, he stabbed him with a knife he had secretly purchased, and then threw himself into the sea with the earthen jars before-mentioned, by the help of which, though he never learned to swim, he reached the shore, and immediately took to the woods, where he hid himself for three days, not daring to appear, eating no other food than wild herbs. [illustration: "'portugues made the best of his way to del golpho triste'"--_page _] those of the city next day made diligent search for him in the woods, where they concluded him to be. this strict inquiry portugues saw from the hollow of a tree, wherein he lay hid; and upon their return he made the best of his way to del golpho triste, forty leagues from campechy, where he arrived within a fortnight after his escape: during which time, as also afterwards, he endured extreme hunger and thirst, having no other provision with him than a small calabaca with a little water: besides the fears of falling again into the hands of the spaniards. he eat nothing but a few shell-fish, which he found among the rocks near the seashore; and being obliged to pass some rivers, not knowing well how to swim, he found at last an old board which the waves had driven ashore, wherein were a few great nails; these he took, and with no small labour whetted on a stone, till he had made them like knives, though not so well; with these, and nothing else, he cut down some branches of trees, which with twigs and osiers he joined together, and made as well as he could a boat to waft him over the rivers: thus arriving at the cape of golpho triste, as was said, he found a vessel of pirates, comrades of his own, lately come from jamaica. to these he related all his adversities and misfortunes, and withal desired they would fit him with a boat and twenty men, with which company alone he promised to return to campechy, and assault the ship that was in the river, by which he had been taken fourteen days before. they presently granted his request, and equipped him a boat accordingly. with this small company he set out to execute his design, which he bravely performed eight days after he left golpho triste; for being arrived at campechy, with an undaunted courage, and without any noise, he assaulted the said ship: those on board thought it was a boat from land that came to bring contraband goods, and so were in no posture of defence; which opportunity the pirates laying hold of, assaulted them so resolutely, that in a little time they compelled the spaniards to surrender. being masters of the ship, they immediately weighed anchor and set sail from the port, lest they should be pursued by other vessels. this they did with the utmost joy, seeing themselves possessors of so brave a ship; especially portugues, who by a second turn of fortune was become rich and powerful again, who was so lately in that same vessel a prisoner, condemned to be hanged. with this purchase he designed greater things, which he might have done, since there remained in the vessel so great a quantity of rich merchandise, though the plate had been sent to the city: but while he was making his voyage to jamaica, near the isle of pinos, on the south of cuba, a terrible storm arose, which drove against the jardines rocks, where she was lost; but portugues, with his companions, escaped in a canoe, in which he arrived at jamaica, where it was not long ere he went on new adventures, but was never fortunate after. nor less considerable are the actions of another pirate who now lives at jamaica, who on several occasions has performed very surprising things. he was born at groninghen in the united provinces. his own name not being known, his companions gave him that of roche brasiliano, by reason of his long residence in brasil: hence he was forced to fly, when the portuguese retook those countries from the dutch, several nations then inhabiting at brasil (as english, french, dutch, and others), being constrained to seek new fortunes. this person fled to jamaica, where, being at a stand how to get his living, he entered himself into the society of pirates, where he served as a private mariner for some time, and behaved himself so well, that he was beloved and respected by all. one day some of the mariners quarrelled with their captain to that degree, that they left the boat. brasiliano following them, was chosen their leader, who having fitted out a small vessel, they made him captain. within a few days after, he took a great ship coming from new spain, which had a great quantity of plate on board, and carried it to jamaica. this action got him a great reputation at home; and though in his private affairs he governed himself very well, he would oftentimes appear brutish and foolish when in drink, running up and down the streets, beating and wounding those he met, no person daring to make any resistance. to the spaniards he was always very barbarous and cruel, out of an inveterate hatred against that nation. of these he commanded several to be roasted alive on wooden spits, for not showing him hog-yards where he might steal swine. after many of these cruelties, as he was cruising on the coasts of campechy, a dismal tempest surprised him so violently, that his ship was wrecked upon the coasts, the mariners only escaping with their muskets and some few bullets and powder, which were the only things they could save. the ship was lost between campechy and the golpho triste: here they got ashore in a canoe, and, marching along the coast with all the speed they could, they directed their course towards golpho triste, the common refuge of the pirates. being upon his journey, and all very hungry and thirsty, as is usual in desert places, they were pursued by a troop of an hundred spaniards. brasiliano, perceiving their imminent danger, encouraged his companions, telling them they were better soldiers, and ought rather to die under their arms fighting, as it became men of courage, than surrender to the spaniards, who would take away their lives with the utmost torments. the pirates were but thirty; yet, seeing their brave commander oppose the enemy with such courage, resolved to do the like: hereupon they faced the troop of spaniards, and discharged their muskets on them so dextrously, that they killed one horseman almost with every shot. the fight continued for an hour, till at last the spaniards were put to flight. they stripped the dead, and took from them what was most for their use; such as were also not quite dead they dispatched with the ends of their muskets. having vanquished the enemy, they mounted on horses they found in the field, and continued their journey; brasiliano having lost but two of his companions in this bloody fight, and had two wounded. prosecuting their way, before they came to the port they spied a boat at anchor from campechy, well manned, protecting a few canoes that were lading wood: hereupon they sent six of their men to watch them, who next morning, by a wile, possessed themselves of the canoes. having given notice to their companions, they boarded them, and also took the little man-of-war, their convoy. being thus masters of this fleet, they wanted only provisions, of which they found little aboard those vessels: but this defect was supplied by the horses, which they killed, and salted with salt, which by good fortune the wood-cutters had brought with them, with which they supported themselves till they could get better. they took also another ship going from new spain to maracaibo, laden with divers sorts of merchandise and pieces of eight, designed to buy cocoa-nuts for their lading home: all these they carried to jamaica, where they safely arrived, and, according to custom, wasted all in a few days in taverns, giving themselves to all manner of debauchery. such of these pirates will spend two or three thousand pieces of eight in a night, not leaving themselves a good shirt to wear in the morning. my own master would buy sometimes a pipe of wine, and, placing it in the street, would force those that passed by to drink with him, threatening also to pistol them if they would not. he would do the like with barrels of beer or ale; and very often he would throw these liquors about the streets, and wet peoples' clothes without regarding whether he spoiled their apparel. among themselves these pirates are very liberal: if any one has lost all, which often happens in their manner of life, they freely give him of what they have. in taverns and alehouses they have great credit; but at jamaica they ought not to run very deep in debt, seeing the inhabitants there easily sell one another for debt. this happened to my patron, to be sold for a debt of a tavern wherein he had spent the greatest part of his money. this man had, within three months before, three thousand pieces of eight in ready cash, all which he wasted in that little time, and became as poor as i have told you. but to return brasiliano, after having spent all, was forced to go to sea again to seek his fortune. he set forth towards the coast of campechy, his common rendezvous: fifteen days after his arrival, he put himself into a canoe to espy the port of that city, and see if he could rob any spanish vessel; but his fortune was so bad, that both he and all his men were taken and carried before the governor, who immediately cast them into a dungeon, intending to hang them every one; and doubtless he had done so, but for a stratagem of brasiliano, which saved their lives. he wrote a letter to the governor, in the names of other pirates that were abroad at sea, telling them he should have a care how he used those persons he had in custody; for if he hurt them in the least, they swore they would never give quarter to any spaniard that should fall into their hands. these pirates having been often at campechy, and other places of the west indies in the spanish dominions, the governor feared what mischief their companions abroad might do, if he should punish them. hereupon he released them, exacting only an oath on them that they would leave their exercise of piracy for ever; and withal he sent them as common mariners, in the galleons, to spain. they got in this voyage, all together, five hundred pieces of eight; so that they tarried not long there after their arrival. providing themselves with necessaries, they returned to jamaica, from whence they set forth again to sea, committing greater robberies and cruelties than before; but especially abusing the poor spaniards, who fell into their hands, with all sorts of cruelty. the spaniards, finding they could gain nothing on these people, nor diminish their number, daily resolved to lessen the number of their trading ships. but neither was this of any service; for the pirates, finding few ships at sea, began to gather into companies, and to land on their dominions, ruining cities, towns, and villages; pillaging, burning, and carrying away as much as they could. the first pirate who began these invasions by land was lewis scot, who sacked the city of campechy, which he almost ruined, robbing and destroying all he could; and after he had put it to an excessive ransom, he left it. after scot came another named mansvelt, who invaded granada, and penetrated even to the south sea; till at last, for want of provision, he was forced to go back. he assaulted the isle of st. catherine, which he took, with a few prisoners. these directed him to carthagena, a principal city in neuva granada. but the bold attempts and actions of john davis, born at jamaica, ought not to be forgotten, being some of the most remarkable; especially his rare prudence and valour showed in the fore-mentioned kingdom of granada. this pirate, having long cruised in the gulf of pocatauro, on the ships expected to carthagena, bound for nicaragua, and not meeting any of them, resolved at last to land in nicaragua, leaving his ship hid on the coast. this design he soon executed; for taking eighty men out of ninety, which he had in all--and the rest he left to keep the ship--he divided them equally into three canoes. his intent was to rob the churches, and rifle the houses of the chief citizens of nicaragua. thus in the dark night they entered the river leading to that city, rowing in their canoes; by day they hid themselves and boats under the branches of trees, on the banks, which grow very thick along the river-sides in those countries, and along the sea-coast. being arrived at the city the third night, the sentinel, who kept the post of the river, thought them to be fishermen that had been fishing in the lake: and most of the pirates understanding spanish, he doubted not, as soon as he heard them speak. they had in their company an indian who had run away from his master, who would have enslaved him unjustly. he went first ashore, and instantly killed the sentinel: this done, they entered the city, and went directly to three or four houses of the chief citizens, where they knocked softly. these, believing them to be friends, opened the doors; and the pirates, suddenly possessing themselves of the houses, stole all the money and plate they could find. nor did they spare the churches and most sacred things; all of which were pillaged and profaned, without any respect or veneration. meanwhile, great cries and lamentations were heard of some who had escaped them; so that the whole city was in an uproar, and all the citizens rallied in order, to a defence; which the pirates perceiving, they instantly fled, carrying away their booty, and some prisoners: these they led away, that if any of them should be taken by the spaniards, they might use them for ransom. thus they got to their ship, and with all speed put to sea, forcing the prisoners, before they let them go, to procure them as much flesh as was necessary for their voyage to jamaica. but no sooner had they weighed anchor, when they saw a troop of about five hundred spaniards, all well armed, at the sea-side: against these they let fly several guns, wherewith they forced them to quit the sands, and retire, with no small regret to see these pirates carry away so much plate of their churches and houses, though distant at least forty leagues from the sea. these pirates got, on this occasion, above four thousand pieces of eight in money, besides much plate, and many jewels; in all, to the value of fifty thousand pieces of eight, or more: with all this they arrived at jamaica soon after. but this sort of people being never long masters of their money, they were soon constrained to seek more by the same means; and captain john davis, presently after his return, was chosen admiral of seven or eight vessels, he being now esteemed an able conductor for such enterprises. he began his new command by directing his fleet to the north of cuba, there to wait for the fleet from new spain; but missing his design, they determined for florida. being arrived there, they landed their men, and sacked a small city named st. augustine of florida. the castle had a garrison of two hundred men, but could not prevent the pillage of the city, they effecting it without the least damage from the soldiers or townsmen. chapter vi _of the origin of francis lolonois, and the beginning of his robberies._ francis lolonois was a native of that territory in france which is called les sables d'olone, or the sands of olone. in his youth he was transported to the caribbee islands, in quality of servant, or slave, according to custom; of which we have already spoken. being out of his time, he came to hispaniola; here he joined for some time with the hunters, before he began his robberies upon the spaniards, which i shall now relate, till his unfortunate death. at first he made two or three voyages as a common mariner, wherein he behaved himself so courageously as to gain the favour of the governor of tortuga, monsieur de la place; insomuch that he gave him a ship, in which he might seek his fortune, which was very favourable to him at first; for in a short time he got great riches. but his cruelties against the spaniards were such, that the fame of them made him so well known through the indies, that the spaniards, in his time, would choose rather to die, or sink fighting, than surrender, knowing they should have no mercy at his hands. but fortune, being seldom constant, after some time turned her back; for in a huge storm he lost his ship on the coast of campechy. the men were all saved, but coming upon dry land, the spaniards pursued them, and killed the greatest part, wounding also lolonois. not knowing how to escape, he saved his life by a stratagem; mingling sand with the blood of his wounds, with which besmearing his face, and other parts of his body, and hiding himself dextrously among the dead, he continued there till the spaniards quitted the field. they being gone, he retired to the woods, and bound up his wounds as well as he could. these being pretty well healed, he took his way to campechy, having disguised himself in a spanish habit; here he enticed certain slaves, to whom he promised liberty if they would obey him and trust to his conduct. they accepted his promises, and stealing a canoe, they went to sea with him. now the spaniards, having made several of his companions prisoners, kept them close in a dungeon, while lolonois went about the town and saw what passed. these were often asked, "what is become of your captain?" to whom they constantly answered, "he is dead:" which rejoiced the spaniards, who made bonfires, and, knowing nothing to the contrary, gave thanks to god for their deliverance from such a cruel pirate. lolonois, having seen these rejoicings for his death, made haste to escape, with the slaves above-mentioned, and came safe to tortuga, the common refuge of all sorts of wickedness, and the seminary, as it were, of pirates and thieves. though now his fortune was low, yet he got another ship with craft and subtlety, and in it twenty-one men. being well provided with arms and necessaries, he set forth for cuba, on the south whereof is a small village, called de los cayos. the inhabitants drive a great trade in tobacco, sugar, and hides, and all in boats, not being able to use ships, by reason of the little depth of that sea. lolonois was persuaded he should get here some considerable prey; but by the good fortune of some fishermen who saw him, and the mercy of god, they escaped him: for the inhabitants of the town dispatched immediately a vessel overland to the havannah, complaining that lolonois was come to destroy them with two canoes. the governor could very hardly believe this, having received letters from campechy that he was dead: but, at their importunity, he sent a ship to their relief, with ten guns, and ninety men, well armed; giving them this express command, "that they should not return into his presence without having totally destroyed those pirates." to this effect he gave them a negro to serve for a hangman, and orders, "that they should immediately hang every one of the pirates, excepting lolonois, their captain, whom they should bring alive to the havannah." this ship arrived at cayos, of whose coming the pirates were advertised beforehand, and instead of flying, went to seek it in the river estera, where she rode at anchor. the pirates seized some fishermen, and forced them by night to show them the entry of the port, hoping soon to obtain a greater vessel than their two canoes, and thereby to mend their fortune. they arrived, after two in the morning, very nigh the ship; and the watch on board the ship asking them, whence they came, and if they had seen any pirates abroad? they caused one of the prisoners to answer, they had seen no pirates, nor anything else. which answer made them believe that they were fled upon hearing of their coming. but they soon found the contrary, for about break of day the pirates assaulted the vessel on both sides, with their two canoes, with such vigour, that though the spaniards behaved themselves as they ought, and made as good defence as they could, making some use of their great guns, yet they were forced to surrender, being beaten by the pirates, with sword in hand, down under the hatches. from hence lolonois commanded them to be brought up, one by one, and in this order caused their heads to be struck off: among the rest came up the negro, designed to be the pirates' executioner; this fellow implored mercy at his hands very dolefully, telling lolonois he was constituted hangman of that ship, and if he would spare him, he would tell him faithfully all that he should desire. lolonois, making him confess what he thought fit, commanded him to be murdered with the rest. thus he cruelly and barbarously put them all to death, reserving only one alive, whom he sent back to the governor of the havannah, with this message in writing: "i shall never henceforward give quarter to any spaniard whatsoever; and i have great hopes i shall execute on your own person the very same punishment i have done upon them you sent against me. thus i have retaliated the kindness you designed to me and my companions." the governor, much troubled at this sad news, swore, in the presence of many, that he would never grant quarter to any pirate that should fall into his hands. but the citizens of the havannah desired him not to persist in the execution of that rash and rigorous oath, seeing the pirates would certainly take occasion from thence to do the same, and they had an hundred times more opportunity of revenge than he; that being necessitated to get their livelihood by fishery, they should hereafter always be in danger of their lives. by these reasons he was persuaded to bridle his anger, and remit the severity of his oath. now lolonois had got a good ship, but very few provisions and people in it; to purchase both which, he resolved to cruise from one port to another. doing thus, for some time, without success, he determined to go to the port of maracaibo. here he surprised a ship laden with plate, and other merchandises, outward bound, to buy cocoa-nuts. with this prize he returned to tortuga, where he was received with joy by the inhabitants; they congratulating his happy success, and their own private interest. he stayed not long there, but designed to equip a fleet sufficient to transport five hundred men, and necessaries. thus provided, he resolved to pillage both cities, towns, and villages, and finally, to take maracaibo itself. for this purpose he knew the island of tortuga would afford him many resolute and courageous men, fit for such enterprises: besides, he had in his service several prisoners well acquainted with the ways and places designed upon. chapter vii _lolonois equips a fleet to land upon the spanish islands of america, with intent to rob, sack and burn whatsoever he met with._ of this design lolonois giving notice to all the pirates, whether at home or abroad, he got together, in a little while, above four hundred men; beside which, there was then in tortuga another pirate, named michael de basco, who, by his piracy, had got riches sufficient to live at ease, and go no more abroad; having, withal, the office of major of the island. but seeing the great preparations that lolonois made for this expedition, he joined him, and offered him, that if he would make him his chief captain by land (seeing he knew the country very well, and all its avenues) he would share in his fortunes, and go with him. they agreed upon articles to the great joy of lolonois, knowing that basco had done great actions in europe, and had the repute of a good soldier. thus they all embarked in eight vessels, that of lolonois being the greatest, having ten guns of indifferent carriage. all things being ready, and the whole company on board, they set sail together about the end of april, being, in all, six hundred and sixty persons. they steered for that part called bayala, north of hispaniola: here they took into their company some french hunters, who voluntarily offered themselves, and here they provided themselves with victuals and necessaries for their voyage. from hence they sailed again the last of july, and steered directly to the eastern cape of the isle called punta d'espada. hereabouts espying a ship from puerto rico, bound for new spain, laden with cocoa-nuts, lolonois commanded the rest of the fleet to wait for him near savona, on the east of cape punta d'espada, he alone intending to take the said vessel. the spaniards, though they had been in sight full two hours, and knew them to be pirates, yet would not flee, but prepared to fight, being well armed, and provided. the combat lasted three hours, and then they surrendered. this ship had sixteen guns, and fifty fighting men aboard: they found in her , weight of cocoa, , pieces of eight, and the value of , more in jewels. lolonois sent the vessel presently to tortuga to be unladed, with orders to return as soon as possible to savona, where he would wait for them: meanwhile, the rest of the fleet being arrived at savona, met another spanish vessel coming from coman, with military provisions to hispaniola, and money to pay the garrisons there. this vessel they also took, without any resistance, though mounted with eight guns. in it were , weight of powder, a great number of muskets, and like things, with , pieces of eight. these successes encouraged the pirates, they seeming very lucky beginnings, especially finding their fleet pretty well recruited in a little time: for the first ship arriving at tortuga, the governor ordered it to be instantly unladen, and soon after sent back, with fresh provisions, and other necessaries, to lolonois. this ship he chose for himself, and gave that which he commanded to his comrade, anthony du puis. being thus recruited with men in lieu of them he had lost in taking the prizes, and by sickness, he found himself in a good condition to set sail for maracaibo, in the province of neuva venezuela, in the latitude of deg. min. north. this island is twenty leagues long, and twelve broad. to this port also belong the islands of onega and monges. the east side thereof is called cape st. roman, and the western side cape of caquibacoa: the gulf is called, by some, the gulf of venezuela, but the pirates usually call it the bay of maracaibo. at the entrance of this gulf are two islands extending from east to west; that towards the east is called isla de las vigilias, or the watch isle; because in the middle is a high hill, on which stands a watch-house. the other is called isla de la palomas, or the isle of pigeons. between these two islands runs a little sea, or rather lake of fresh water, sixty leagues long, and thirty broad; which disgorging itself into the ocean, dilates itself about the said two islands. between them is the best passage for ships, the channel being no broader than the flight of a great gun, of about eight pounds. on the isle of pigeons standeth a castle, to impede the entry of vessels, all being necessitated to come very nigh the castle, by reason of two banks of sand on the other side, with only fourteen feet water. many other banks of sand there are in this lake; as that called el tablazo, or the great table, no deeper than ten feet, forty leagues within the lake; others there are, that have no more than six, seven, or eight feet in depth: all are very dangerous, especially to mariners unacquainted with them. west hereof is the city of maracaibo, very pleasant to the view, its houses being built along the shore, having delightful prospects all round: the city may contain three or four thousand persons, slaves included, all which make a town of reasonable bigness. there are judged to be about eight hundred persons able to bear arms, all spaniards. here are one parish church, well built and adorned, four monasteries, and one hospital. the city is governed by a deputy governor, substituted by the governor of the caraccas. the trade here exercised is mostly in hides and tobacco. the inhabitants possess great numbers of cattle, and many plantations, which extend thirty leagues in the country, especially towards the great town of gibraltar, where are gathered great quantities of cocoa-nuts, and all other garden fruits, which serve for the regale and sustenance of the inhabitants of maracaibo, whose territories are much drier than those of gibraltar. hither those of maracaibo send great quantities of flesh, they making returns in oranges, lemons, and other fruits; for the inhabitants of gibraltar want flesh, their fields not being capable of feeding cows or sheep. before maracaibo is a very spacious and secure port, wherein may be built all sorts of vessels, having great convenience of timber, which may be transported thither at little charge. nigh the town lies also a small island called borrica, where they feed great numbers of goats, which cattle the inhabitants use more for their skins than their flesh or milk; they slighting these two, unless while they are tender and young kids. in the fields are fed some sheep, but of a very small size. in some islands of the lake, and in other places hereabouts, are many savage indians, called by the spaniards bravoes, or wild: these could never be reduced by the spaniards, being brutish, and untameable. they dwell mostly towards the west side of the lake, in little huts built on trees growing in the water; so to keep themselves from innumerable mosquitoes, or gnats, which infest and torment them night and day. to the east of the said lake are whole towns of fishermen, who likewise live in huts built on trees, as the former. another reason of this dwelling, is the frequent inundations; for after great rains, the land is often overflown for two or three leagues, there being no less than twenty-five great rivers that feed this lake. the town of gibraltar is also frequently drowned by these, so that the inhabitants are constrained to retire to their plantations. gibraltar, situate at the side of the lake about forty leagues within it, receives its provisions of flesh, as has been said, from maracaibo. the town is inhabited by about , persons, whereof four hundred may bear arms; the greatest part of them keep shops, wherein they exercise one trade or another. in the adjacent fields are numerous plantations of sugar and cocoa, in which are many tall and beautiful trees, of whose timber houses may be built, and ships. among these are many handsome and proportionable cedars, seven or eight feet about, of which they can build boats and ships, so as to bear only one great sail; such vessels being called piraguas. the whole country is well furnished with rivers and brooks, very useful in droughts, being then cut into many little channels to water their fields and plantations. they plant also much tobacco, well esteemed in europe, and for its goodness is called there tobacco de sacerdotes, or priest's tobacco. they enjoy nigh twenty leagues of jurisdiction, which is bounded by very high mountains perpetually covered with snow. on the other side of these mountains is situate a great city called merida, to which the town of gibraltar is subject. all merchandise is carried hence to the aforesaid city on mules, and that but at one season of the year, by reason of the excessive cold in those high mountains. on the said mules returns are made in flour of meal, which comes from towards peru, by the way of estaffe. thus far i thought good to make a short description of the lake of maracaibo, that my reader might the better comprehend what i shall say concerning the actions of pirates in this place, as follows. lolonois arriving at the gulf of venezuela, cast anchor with his whole fleet out of sight of the vigilia or watch isle; next day very early he set sail thence with all his ships for the lake of maracaibo, where they cast anchor again; then they landed their men, with design to attack first the fortress that commanded the bar, therefore called de la barra. this fort consists only of several great baskets of earth placed on a rising ground, planted with sixteen great guns, with several other heaps of earth round about for covering their men: the pirates having landed a league off this fort, advanced by degrees towards it; but the governor having espied their landing, had placed an ambuscade to cut them off behind, while he should attack them in front. this the pirates discovered, and getting before, they defeated it so entirely, that not a man could retreat to the castle: this done, lolonois, with his companions, advanced immediately to the fort, and after a fight of almost three hours, with the usual desperation of this sort of people, they became masters thereof, without any other arms than swords and pistols: while they were fighting, those who were the routed ambuscade, not being able to get into the castle, retired into maracaibo in great confusion and disorder, crying "the pirates will presently be here with two thousand men and more." the city having formerly been taken by this kind of people, and sacked to the uttermost, had still an idea of that misery; so that upon these dismal news they endeavoured to escape towards gibraltar in their boats and canoes, carrying with them all the goods and money they could. being come to gibraltar, they told how the fortress was taken, and nothing had been saved, nor any persons escaped. the castle thus taken by the pirates, they presently signified to the ships their victory, that they should come farther in without fear of danger: the rest of that day was spent in ruining and demolishing the said castle. they nailed the guns, and burnt as much as they could not carry away, burying the dead, and sending on board the fleet the wounded. next day, very early, they weighed anchor, and steered altogether towards maracaibo, about six leagues distant from the fort; but the wind failing that day, they could advance little, being forced to expect the tide. next morning they came in sight of the town, and prepared for landing under the protection of their own guns, fearing the spaniards might have laid an ambuscade in the woods: they put their men into canoes, brought for that purpose, and landed where they thought most convenient, shooting still furiously with their great guns: of those in the canoes, half only went ashore, the other half remained aboard; they fired from the ships as fast as possible, towards the woody part of the shore, but could discover nobody; then they entered the town, whose inhabitants, as i told you, were retired to the woods, and gibraltar, with their wives, children, and families. their houses they left well provided with victuals, as flour, bread, pork, brandy, wines, and poultry, with these the pirates fell to making good cheer, for in four weeks before they had no opportunity of filling their stomachs with such plenty. they instantly possessed themselves of the best houses in the town, and placed sentinels wherever they thought convenient; the great church served them for their main guard. next day they sent out an hundred and sixty men to find out some of the inhabitants in the woods thereabouts; these returned the same night, bringing with them , pieces of eight, several mules laden with household goods and merchandise, and twenty prisoners, men, women, and children. some of these were put to the rack, to make them confess where they had hid the rest of the goods; but they could extort very little from them. lolonois, who valued not murdering, though in cold blood, ten or twelve spaniards, drew his cutlass, and hacked one to pieces before the rest, saying, "if you do not confess and declare where you have hid the rest of your goods, i will do the like to all your companions." at last, amongst these horrible cruelties and inhuman threats, one promised to show the place where the rest of the spaniards were hid; but those that were fled, having intelligence of it, changed place, and buried the remnant of their riches underground, so that the pirates could not find them out, unless some of their own party should reveal them; besides, the spaniards flying from one place to another every day, and often changing woods, were jealous even of each other, so as the father durst scarce trust his own son. after the pirates had been fifteen days in maracaibo, they resolved for gibraltar; but the inhabitants having received intelligence thereof, and that they intended afterwards to go to merida, gave notice of it to the governor there, who was a valiant soldier, and had been an officer in flanders. his answer was, "he would have them take no care, for he hoped in a little while to exterminate the said pirates." whereupon he came to gibraltar with four hundred men well armed, ordering at the same time the inhabitants to put themselves in arms, so that in all he made eight hundred fighting men. with the same speed he raised a battery toward the sea, mounted with twenty guns, covered with great baskets of earth: another battery he placed in another place, mounted with eight guns. this done, he barricaded a narrow passage to the town through which the pirates must pass, opening at the same time another through much dirt and mud into the wood totally unknown to the pirates. the pirates, ignorant of these preparations, having embarked all their prisoners and booty, took their way towards gibraltar. being come in sight of the place, they saw the royal standard hanging forth, and that those of the town designed to defend their houses. lolonois seeing this, called a council of war what they ought to do, telling his officers and mariners, "that the difficulty of the enterprise was very great, seeing the spaniards had had so much time to put themselves in a posture of defence, and had got a good body of men together, with much ammunition; but notwithstanding," said he, "have a good courage; we must either defend ourselves like good soldiers, or lose our lives with all the riches we have got. do as i shall do who am your captain: at other times we have fought with fewer men than we have in our company at present, and yet we have overcome greater numbers than there possibly can be in this town: the more they are, the more glory and the greater riches we shall gain." the pirates supposed that all the riches of the inhabitants of maracaibo were transported to gibraltar, or at least the greatest part. after this speech, they all promised to follow, and obey him. lolonois made answer, "'tis well; but know ye, withal, that the first man who shall show any fear, or the least apprehension thereof, i will pistol him with my own hands." with this resolution they cast anchor nigh the shore, near three-quarters of a league from the town: next day before sun-rising, they landed three hundred and eighty men well provided, and armed every one with a cutlass, and one or two pistols, and sufficient powder and bullet for thirty charges. here they all shook hands in testimony of good courage, and began their march, lolonois speaking thus, "come, my brethren, follow me, and have good courage." they followed their guide, who, believing he led them well, brought them to the way which the governor had barricaded. not being able to pass that way, they went to the other newly made in the wood among the mire, which the spaniards could shoot into at pleasure; but the pirates, full of courage, cut down the branches of trees and threw them on the way, that they might not stick in the dirt. meanwhile, those of gibraltar fired with their great guns so furiously, they could scarce hear nor see for the noise and smoke. being passed the wood, they came on firm ground, where they met with a battery of six guns, which immediately the spaniards discharged upon them, all loaded with small bullets and pieces of iron; and the spaniards sallying forth, set upon them with such fury, as caused the pirates to give way, few of them caring to advance towards the fort, many of them being already killed and wounded. this made them go back to seek another way; but the spaniards having cut down many trees to hinder the passage, they could find none, but were forced to return to that they had left. here the spaniards continued to fire as before, nor would they sally out of their batteries to attack them any more. lolonois and his companions not being able to grimp up the baskets of earth, were compelled to use an old stratagem, wherewith at last they deceived and overcame the spaniards. lolonois retired suddenly with all his men, making show as if he fled; hereupon the spaniards crying out "they flee, they flee, let us follow them," sallied forth with great disorder to the pursuit. being drawn to some distance from the batteries, which was the pirates only design, they turned upon them unexpectedly with sword in hand, and killed above two hundred men; and thus fighting their way through those who remained, they possessed themselves of the batteries. the spaniards that remained abroad, giving themselves over for lost, fled to the woods: those in the battery of eight guns surrendered themselves, obtaining quarter for their lives. the pirates being now become masters of the town, pulled down the spanish colours and set up their own, taking prisoners as many as they could find. these they carried to the great church, where they raised a battery of several great guns, fearing lest the spaniards that were fled should rally, and come upon them again; but next day, being all fortified, their fears were over. they gathered the dead to bury them, being above five hundred spaniards, besides the wounded in the town, and those that died of their wounds in the woods. the pirates had also above one hundred and fifty prisoners, and nigh five hundred slaves, many women and children. of their own companions only forty were killed, and almost eighty wounded, whereof the greatest part died through the bad air, which brought fevers and other illness. they put the slain spaniards into two great boats, and carrying them a quarter of a league to sea, they sunk the boats; this done, they gathered all the plate, household stuff, and merchandise they could, or thought convenient to carry away. the spaniards who had anything left had hid it carefully: but the unsatisfied pirates, not contented with the riches they had got, sought for more goods and merchandise, not sparing those who lived in the fields, such as hunters and planters. they had scarce been eighteen days on the place, when the greatest part of the prisoners died for hunger. for in the town were few provisions, especially of flesh, though they had some, but no sufficient quantity of flour of meal, and this the pirates had taken for themselves, as they also took the swine, cows, sheep, and poultry, without allowing any share to the poor prisoners; for these they only provided some small quantity of mules' and asses' flesh; and many who could not eat of that loathsome provision died for hunger, their stomachs not being accustomed to such sustenance. of the prisoners many also died under the torment they sustained to make them discover their money or jewels; and of these, some had none, nor knew of none, and others denying what they knew, endured such horrible deaths. finally, after having been in possession of the town four entire weeks, they sent four of the prisoners to the spaniards that were fled to the woods, demanding of them a ransom for not burning the town. the sum demanded was , pieces of eight, which if not sent, they threatened to reduce it to ashes. for bringing in this money, they allowed them only two days; but the spaniards not having been able to gather so punctually such a sum, the pirates fired many parts of the town; whereupon the inhabitants begged them to help quench the fire, and the ransom should be readily paid. the pirates condescended, helping as much as they could to stop the fire; but, notwithstanding all their best endeavours, one part of the town was ruined, especially the church belonging to the monastery was burnt down. after they had received the said sum, they carried aboard all the riches they had got, with a great number of slaves which had not paid the ransom; for all the prisoners had sums of money set upon them, and the slaves were also commanded to be redeemed. hence they returned to maracaibo, where being arrived, they found a general consternation in the whole city, to which they sent three or four prisoners to tell the governor and inhabitants, "they should bring them , pieces of eight aboard their ships, for a ransom of their houses, otherwise they should be sacked anew and burnt." among these debates a party of pirates came on shore, and carried away the images, pictures, and bells of the great church, aboard the fleet. the spaniards who were sent to demand the sum aforesaid returned, with orders to make some agreement; who concluded with the pirates to give for their ransom and liberty , pieces of eight, and five hundred cows, provided that they should commit no farther hostilities, but depart thence presently after payment of money and cattle. the one and the other being delivered, the whole fleet set sail, causing great joy to the inhabitants of maracaibo, to see themselves quit of them: but three days after they renewed their fears with admiration, seeing the pirates appear again, and re-enter the port with all their ships: but these apprehensions vanished, upon hearing one of the pirate's errand, who came ashore from lolonois, "to demand a skilful pilot to conduct one of the greatest ships over the dangerous bank that lieth at the very entry of the lake." which petition, or rather command, was instantly granted. they had now been full two months in those towns, wherein they committed those cruel and insolent actions we have related. departing thence, they took their course to hispaniola, and arrived there in eight days, casting anchor in a port called isla de la vacca, or cow island. this island is inhabited by french bucaniers, who mostly sell the flesh they hunt to pirates and others, who now and then put in there to victual, or trade. here they unladed their whole cargazon of riches, the usual storehouse of the pirates being commonly under the shelter of the bucaniers. here they made a dividend of all their prizes and gains, according to the order and degree of every one, as has been mentioned before. having made an exact calculation of all their plunder, they found in ready money , pieces of eight: this being divided, every one received for his share in money, as also in silk, linen, and other commodities, to the value of above pieces of eight. those who had been wounded received their first part, after the rate mentioned before, for the loss of their limbs: then they weighed all the plate uncoined, reckoning ten pieces of eight to a pound; the jewels were prized indifferently, either too high or too low, by reason of their ignorance: this done, every one was put to his oath again, that he had not smuggled anything from the common stock. hence they proceeded to the dividend of the shares of such as were dead in battle, or otherwise: these shares were given to their friends, to be kept entire for them, and to be delivered in due time to their nearest relations, or their apparent lawful heirs. the whole dividend being finished, they set sail for tortuga: here they arrived a month after, to the great joy of most of the island; for as to the common pirates, in three weeks they had scarce any money left, having spent it all in things of little value, or lost it at play. here had arrived, not long before them, two french ships, with wine and brandy, and suchlike commodities; whereby these liquors, at the arrival of the pirates, were indifferent cheap. but this lasted not long, for soon after they were enhanced extremely, a gallon of brandy being sold for four pieces of eight. the governor of the island bought of the pirates the whole cargo of the ship laden with cocoa, giving for that rich commodity scarce the twentieth part of its worth. thus they made shift to lose and spend the riches they had got, in much less time than they were purchased: the taverns and stews, according to the custom of pirates, got the greatest part; so that, soon after, they were forced to seek more by the same unlawful means they had got the former. chapter viii _lolonois makes new preparations to make the city of st. james de leon; as also that of nicaragua; where he miserably perishes._ lolonois had got great repute at tortuga by this last voyage, because he brought home such considerable profit; and now he need take no great care to gather men to serve under him, more coming in voluntarily than he could employ; every one reposing such confidence in his conduct that they judged it very safe to expose themselves, in his company, to the greatest dangers. he resolved therefore a second voyage to the parts of nicaragua, to pillage there as many towns as he could. having published his new preparations, he had all his men together at the time, being about seven hundred. of these he put three hundred aboard the ship he took at maracaibo, and the rest in five other vessels of lesser burthen; so that they were in all six ships. the first port they went to was bayaha in hispaniola, to victual the fleet, and take in provisions; which done, they steered their course to a port called matamana, on the south side of cuba, intending to take here all the canoes they could; these coasts being frequented by the fishers of tortoises, who carry them hence to the havannah. they took as many of them, to the great grief of those miserable people, as they thought necessary; for they had great use for these small bottoms, by reason the port they designed for had not depth enough for ships of any burthen. hence they took their course towards the cape gracias à dios on the continent, in latitude deg. north, one hundred leagues from the island de los pinos. being at sea, they were taken with a sad and tedious calm, and, by the agitation of the waves alone, were thrown into the gulf of honduras: here they laboured hard in vain to regain what they had lost, both the waters and the winds being contrary; besides, the ship wherein lolonois was embarked could not follow the rest; and what was worse, they wanted provisions. hereupon, they were forced to put into the first port they could reach, to revictual: so they entered with their canoes into the river xagua, inhabited by indians, whom they totally destroyed, finding great quantities of millet, and many hogs and hens: not contented with which, they determined to remain there till the bad weather was over, and to pillage all the towns and villages along the coast of the gulf. thus they passed from one place to another, seeking still more provisions, with which they were not sufficiently supplied. having searched and rifled many villages, where they found no great matter, they came at last to puerto cavallo: here the spaniards have two storehouses to keep the merchandises that are brought from the inner parts of the country, till the arrival of the ships. there was then in the port a spanish ship of twenty-four guns, and sixteen pedreros or mortar-pieces: this ship was immediately seized by the pirates, and then drawing nigh the shore, they landed, and burnt the two storehouses, with all the rest of the houses there. many inhabitants likewise they took prisoners, and committed upon them the most inhuman cruelties that ever heathens invented; putting them to the cruellest tortures they could devise. it was the custom of lolonois, that having tormented persons not confessing, he would instantly cut them in pieces with his hanger, and pull out their tongues, desiring to do so, if possible, to every spaniard in the world. it often happened that some of these miserable prisoners, being forced by the rack, would promise to discover the places where the fugitive spaniards lay hid, which not being able afterwards to perform, they were put to more cruel deaths than they who were dead before. the prisoners being all dead but two (whom they reserved to show them what they desired), they marched hence to the town of san pedro, or st. peter, ten or twelve leagues from puerto cavallo, being three hundred men, whom lolonois led, leaving behind him moses van vin his lieutenant, to govern the rest in his absence. being come three leagues on their way, they met with a troop of spaniards, who lay in ambuscade for their coming: these they set upon, with all the courage imaginable, and at last totally defeated. howbeit, they behaved themselves very manfully at first; but not being able to resist the fury of the pirates, they were forced to give way, and save themselves by flight, leaving many pirates dead in the place, some wounded, and some of their own party maimed, by the way. these lolonois put to death without mercy, having asked them what questions he thought fit for his purpose. there were still remaining some few prisoners not wounded; these were asked by lolonois, if any more spaniards did lie farther on in ambuscade? they answered, there were. then being brought before him, one by one, he asked if there was no other way to town but that. this he did to avoid if possible those ambuscades. but they all constantly answered him they knew none. having asked them all, and finding they could show him no other way, lolonois grew outrageously passionate; so that he drew his cutlass, and with it cut open the breast of one of those poor spaniards, and pulling out his heart began to bite and gnaw it with his teeth, like a ravenous wolf, saying to the rest, "i will serve you all alike, if you show me not another way." hereupon, those miserable wretches promised to show him another way, but withal, they told him, it was extremely difficult, and laborious. thus to satisfy that cruel tyrant, they began to lead him and his army; but finding it not for his purpose as they had told him, he was forced to return to the former way, swearing with great choler and indignation, "mort dieu, les espagnols me le payeront. by god's death, the spaniards shall pay me for this." next day he fell into another ambuscade, which he assaulted with such horrible fury, that in less than an hour's time he routed the spaniards, and killed the greatest part of them. the spaniards thought by these ambuscades better to destroy the pirates, assaulting them by degrees, and for this reason had posted themselves in several places. at last he met with a third ambuscade, where was placed a party stronger, and more advantageously, than the former: yet notwithstanding, the pirates, by continually throwing little fire-balls in great numbers, for some time, forced this party, as well as the former, to flee, and this with so great loss of men, that before they could reach the town, the greatest part of the spaniards were either killed or wounded. there was but one path which led to the town, very well barricaded with good defences; and the rest of the town round was planted with shrubs called raqueltes, full of thorns very sharp pointed. this sort of fortification seemed stronger than the triangles used in europe, when an army is of necessity to pass by the place of an enemy; it being almost impossible for the pirates to traverse those shrubs. the spaniards posted behind the said defences, seeing the pirates come, began to ply them with their great guns; but these perceiving them ready to fire, used to stoop down, and when the shot was made, to fall upon the defendants with fire-balls and naked swords, killing many of the town: yet notwithstanding, not being able to advance any farther, they retired, for the present: then they renewed the attack with fewer men than before, and observing not to shoot till they were very nigh, they gave the spaniards a charge so dextrously, that with every shot they killed an enemy. the attack continuing thus eager on both sides till night, the spaniards were compelled to hang forth a white flag, and desired to come to a parley: the only conditions they required were, "that the pirates should give the inhabitants quarter for two hours." this little time they demanded with intent to carry away and hide as much of their goods and riches as they could, and to fly to some other neighbouring town. granting this article, they entered the town, and continued there the two hours, without committing the least hostility on the inhabitants; but no sooner was that time past, than lolonois ordered that the inhabitants should be followed, and robbed of all they had carried away; and not only their goods, but their persons likewise to be made prisoners; though the greatest part of their merchandise and goods were so hid, as the pirates could not find them, except a few leathern sacks, filled with anil, or indigo. having stayed here a few days, and, according to their custom, committed most horrid insolences, they at last quitted the place, carrying away all they possibly could, and reducing the town to ashes. being come to the seaside, where they left a party of their own, they found these had been cruising upon the fishermen thereabouts, or who came that way from the river of guatemala: in this river was also expected a ship from spain. finally, they resolved to go toward the islands on the other side of the gulf, there to cleanse and careen their vessels; but they left two canoes before the coast, or rather the mouth of the river of guatemala, in order to take the ship, which, as i said, was expected from spain. but their chief intent in going hither was to seek provisions, knowing the tortoises of those places are excellent food. being arrived, they divided themselves, each party choosing a fit post for that fishery. they undertook to knit nets with the rinds of certain trees called macoa, whereof they make also ropes and cables; so that no vessel can be in need of such things, if they can but find the said trees. there are also many places where they find pitch in so great abundance, that running down the sea-coasts, being melted by the sun, it congeals in the water in great heaps, like small islands. this pitch is not like that of europe, but resembles, both in colour and shape, that froth of the sea called bitumen; but, in my judgment, this matter is nothing but wax mixed with sand, which stormy weather, and the rolling waves of great rivers hath cast into the sea; for in those parts are great quantities of bees who make their honey in trees, to the bodies of which the honeycomb being fixed, when tempests arise, they are torn away, and by the fury of the winds carried into the sea, as is said. some naturalists say, that the honey and the wax are separated by the salt water; whence proceeds the good amber. this opinion seems the more probable, because the said amber tastes as wax doth. but to return to my discourse. the pirates made in those islands all the haste they possibly could to equip their vessels, hearing that the spanish ship was come which they expected. they spent some time cruising on the coasts of jucatan, where inhabit many indians, who seek for the said amber in those seas. and i shall here, by the by, make some short remarks on the manner of living of the indians, and their religion. they have now been above a hundred years under the spaniards, to whom they performed all manner of services; for whensoever any of them needed a slave or servant, they sent for these to serve them as long as they pleased. by the spaniards they were initiated in the principles of the christian faith and religion, and they sent them every sunday and holiday a priest to perform divine service among them; afterwards, for reasons not known, but certainly through temptations of the father of idolatry, the devil, they suddenly cast off the christian religion, abusing the priest that was sent them: this provoked the spaniards to punish them, by casting many of the chiefs into prison. every one of those barbarians had, and hath still, a god to himself, whom he serves and worships. it is a matter of admiration, how they use a child newly born: as soon as it comes into the world, they carry it to the temple; here they make a hole, which they fill with ashes only, on which they place the child naked, leaving it there a whole night alone, not without great danger, nobody daring to come near it; meanwhile the temple is open on all sides, that all sorts of beasts may freely come in and out. next day, the father, and relations of the infant, return to see if the track or step of any animal appears in the ashes: not finding any, they leave the child there till some beast has approached the infant, and left behind him the marks of his feet: to this animal, whatsoever it be, they consecrate the creature newly born, as to its god, which he is bound to worship all his life, esteeming the said beast his patron and protector. they offer to their gods sacrifices of fire, wherein they burn a certain gum called by them copal, whose smoke smells very deliciously. when the infant is grown up, the parents thereof tell him who he ought to worship, and serve, and honour as his own proper god. then he goes to the temple, where he makes offerings to the said beast. afterwards, if in the course of his life, any one injure him, or any evil happen to him, he complains to that beast, and sacrifices to it for revenge. hence it often comes, that those who have done the injury of which he complains are bitten, killed, or otherwise hurt by such animals. after this superstitious and idolatrous manner live those miserable and ignorant indians that inhabit the islands of the gulf of honduras; as also many of them on the continent of jucatan, in the territories whereof are most excellent ports, where those indians most commonly build their houses. these people are not very faithful to one another, and use strange ceremonies at their marriages. whensoever any one pretends to marry a young damsel, he first applies himself to her father or nearest relation: he examines him nicely about the manner of cultivating their plantations, and other things at his pleasure. having satisfied the questions of his father-in-law, he gives the young man a bow and arrow, with which he repairs to the young maid, and presents her with a garland of green leaves and sweet-smelling flowers; this she is obliged to put on her head, and lay aside that which she wore before, it being the custom for virgins to go perpetually crowned with flowers. this garland being received, and put on her head, every one of the relations and friends go to advise with others whether that marriage will be like to be happy or not; then they meet at the house of the damsel's father, where they drink of a liquor made of maize, or indian wheat; and here, before the whole company, the father gives his daughter in marriage to the bridegroom. next day the bride comes to her mother, and in her presence pulls off the garland, and tears it in pieces, with great cries and lamentations. many other things i could relate of the manner of living and customs of those indians, but i shall follow my discourse. our pirates therefore had many canoes of the indians in the isle of sambale, five leagues from the coasts of jucatan. here is great quantity of amber, but especially when any storm arises from towards the east; whence the waves bring many things, and very different. through this sea no vessels can pass, unless very small, it being too shallow. in the lands that are surrounded by this sea, is found much campechy wood, and other things that serve for dyeing, much esteemed in europe, and would be more, if we had the skill of the indians, who make a dye or tincture that never fades. [illustration: "'they boarded the ship with great agility'"--_page _] the pirates having been in that gulf three months, and receiving advice that the spanish ship was come, hastened to the port where the ship lay at anchor unlading her merchandise, with design to assault her as soon as possible; but first they thought convenient to send away some of their boats to seek for a small vessel also expected very richly laden with plate, indigo, and cochineal. meanwhile, the ship's crew having notice that the pirates designed upon them, prepared all things for a good defence, being mounted with forty-two guns, well furnished with arms and other necessaries, and one hundred and thirty fighting men. to lolonois all this seemed but little, for he assaulted her with great courage, his own ship carrying but twenty-two guns, and having no more than a small saety or fly-boat for help: but the spaniards defended themselves so well, as they forced the pirates to retire; but the smoke of the powder continuing thick, as a dark fog or mist, with four canoes well manned, they boarded the ship with great agility, and forced the spaniards to surrender. the ship being taken, they found not in her what they thought, being already almost unladen. all they got was only fifty bars of iron, a small parcel of paper, some earthen jars of wine, and other things of small importance. then lolonois called a council of war, and told them, he intended for guatemala: hereupon they divided into several sentiments, some liking the proposal, and others disliking it, especially a party of them who were but raw in those exercises, and who imagined at their setting forth from tortuga that pieces of eight were gathered as easy as pears from a tree; but finding most things contrary to their expectation, they quitted the fleet, and returned; others affirmed they had rather starve than return home without a great deal of money. but the major part judging the propounded voyage little to their purpose, separated from lolonois and the rest: of these one moses vanclein was ringleader, captain of the ship taken at puerto cavallo: this fellow steered for tortuga, to cruise to and fro in these seas. with him joined another comrade of his, by name pierre le picard, who seeing the rest leave lolonois, thought fit to do the same. these runaways having thus parted company, steered homewards, coasting along the continent till they came to costa rica; here they landed a strong party nigh the river veraguas, and marched in good order to the town of the same name: this they took and totally pillaged, though the spaniards made a strong resistance. they brought away some of the inhabitants as prisoners, with all they had, which was of no great importance, by reason of the poverty of the place, which exerciseth no other trade than working in the mines, where some of the inhabitants constantly attend, while none seek for gold, but only slaves. these they compel to dig and wash the earth in the neighbouring rivers, where often they find pieces of gold as big as peas. the pirates gaining in this adventure but seven or eight pounds weight of gold, they returned, giving over the design to go to the town of nata, situate on the coasts of the south sea, whose inhabitants are rich merchants, and their slaves work in the mines of veraguas; being deterred by the multitudes of spaniards gathered on all sides to fall upon them, whereof they had timely advice. lolonois, thus left by his companions, remained alone in the gulf of honduras. his ship being too great to get out at the reflux of those seas, there he sustained great want of provisions, so as they were constrained to go ashore every day to seek sustenance, and not finding anything else, they were forced to kill and eat monkeys, and other animals, such as they could find. at last in the altitude of the cape of gracias a dios, near a certain little island called de las pertas, his ship struck on a bank of sand, where it stuck so fast, as no art could get her off again, though they unladed all the guns, iron, and other weighty things as much as they could. hereupon they were forced to break the ship in pieces, and with planks and nails build themselves a boat to get away; and while they are busy about it, i shall describe the said isles and their inhabitants. the islands de las pertas are inhabited by savage indians, not having known or conversed with civil people: they are tall and very nimble, running almost as fast as horses; at diving also they are very dextrous and hardy. from the bottom of the sea i saw them take up an anchor of six hundredweight, tying a cable to it with great dexterity, and pulling it from a rock. their arms are made of wood, without any iron point; but some instead thereof use a crocodile's tooth. they have no bows nor arrows, as the other indians have, but their common weapon is a sort of lance a fathom and a half long. here are many plantations surrounded with woods, whence they gather abundance of fruits, as potatoes, bananas, racoven, ananas, and many others. they have no houses to dwell in, as at other places in the indies. some say they eat human flesh, which is confirmed by what happened when lolonois was there. two of his companions, one a frenchman and the other a spaniard, went into the woods, where having straggled awhile, a troop of indians pursued them. they defended themselves as well as they could with their swords, but at last were forced to flee. the nimble frenchman escaped; but the spaniard being not so swift, was taken and heard of no more. some days after, twelve pirates set forth well armed to seek their companion, among whom was the frenchman, who conducted them, and showed them the place where he left him; here they found that the indians had kindled a fire, and at a small distance they found a man's bones well roasted, with some pieces of flesh ill scraped off the bones, and one hand, which had only two fingers remaining, whence they concluded they had roasted the poor spaniard. they marched on, seeking for indians, and found a great number together, who endeavoured to escape, but they overtook some of them, and brought aboard their ships five men and four women; with these they took much pains to make themselves be understood, and to gain their affections, giving them trifles, as knives, beads, and the like; they gave them also victuals and drink, but nothing would they taste. it was also observable, that while they were prisoners, they spoke not one word to each other; so that seeing these poor indians were much afraid, they presented them again with some small things, and let them go. when they parted, they made signs they would come again, but they soon forgot their benefactors, and were never heard of more; neither could any notice afterwards be had of these indians, nor any others in the whole island, which made the pirates suspect that both those that were taken, and all the rest of the islanders, swam away by night to some little neighbouring islands, especially considering they could never set eyes on any indian more, nor any boat or other vessel. meanwhile the pirates were very desirous to see their long-boat finished out of the timber that struck on the sands; yet considering their work would be long, they began to cultivate some pieces of ground; here they sowed french beans, which ripened in six weeks, and many other fruits. they had good provision of spanish wheat, bananas, racoven, and other things; with the wheat they made bread, and baked it in portable ovens, brought with them. thus they feared not hunger in those desert places, employing themselves thus for five or six months; which past, and the long-boat finished, they resolved for the river of nicaragua, to see if they could take some canoes, and return to the said islands for their companions that remained behind, by reason the boat could not hold so many men together; hereupon, to avoid disputes, they cast lots, determining who should go or stay. [illustration: "'lolonois, with those that remained, had much ado to escape aboard their boats'"--_page _] the lot fell on one half of the people of the lost vessel, who embarked in the long-boat, and on the skiff which they had before, the other half remaining ashore. lolonois having set sail, arrived in a few days at the river of nicaragua: here that ill-fortune assailed him which of long time had been reserved for him, as a punishment due to the multitude of horrible crimes committed in his licentious and wicked life. here he met with both spaniards and indians, who jointly setting upon him and his companions, the greatest part of the pirates were killed on the place. lolonois, with those that remained alive, had much ado to escape aboard their boats: yet notwithstanding this great loss, he resolved not to return to those he had left at the isle of pertas, without taking some boats, such as he looked for. to this effect he determined to go on to the coasts of carthagena; but god almighty, the time of his divine justice being now come, had appointed the indians of darien to be the instruments and executioners thereof. these indians of darien are esteemed as bravoes, or wild savage indians, by the neighbouring spaniards, who never could civilize them. hither lolonois came (brought by his evil conscience that cried for punishment), thinking to act his cruelties; but the indians within a few days after his arrival took him prisoner, and tore him in pieces alive, throwing his body limb by limb into the fire, and his ashes into the air, that no trace or memory might remain of such an infamous, inhuman creature. one of his companions gave me an exact account of this tragedy, affirming that himself had escaped the same punishment with the greatest difficulty; he believed also that many of his comrades, who were taken in that encounter by those indians, were, as their cruel captain, torn in pieces and burnt alive. thus ends the history, the life, and miserable death of that infernal wretch lolonois, who full of horrid, execrable, and enormous deeds, and debtor to so much innocent blood, died by cruel and butcherly hands, such as his own were in the course of his life. those that remained in the island de las pertas, waiting for the return of them who got away only to their great misfortune, hearing no news of their captain nor companions, at last embarked on the ship of a certain pirate, who happened to pass that way. this fellow came from jamaica, with intent to land at gracias a dios, and from thence to enter the river with his canoes, and take the city of carthagena. these two crews of pirates being now joined, were infinitely glad at the presence and society of one another. those, because they found themselves delivered from their miseries, poverty, and necessities, wherein they had lived ten entire months. these, because they were now considerably strengthened, to effect with greater satisfaction their designs. hereupon, as soon as they were arrived at gracias a dios, they all put themselves into canoes, and entered the river, being five hundred men, leaving only five or six persons in each ship to keep them. they took no provisions, being persuaded they should find everywhere sufficient; but these their hopes were found totally vain, not being grounded on almighty god; for he ordained it so, that the indians, aware of their coming, all fled, not leaving in their houses or plantations, which for the most part border on the sides of rivers, any necessary provisions or victuals: hereby, in a few days after they had quitted their ships, they were reduced to most extreme necessity and hunger; but their hopes of making their fortunes very soon, animating them for the present, they contented themselves with a few green herbs, such as they could gather on the banks of the river. yet all this courage and vigour lasted but a fortnight, when their hearts, as well as bodies, began to fail for hunger; insomuch as they were forced to quit the river, and betake themselves to the woods, seeking out some villages where they might find relief, but all in vain; for having ranged up and down the woods for some days, without finding the least comfort, they were forced to return to the river, where being come, they thought convenient to descend to the sea-coast where they had left their ships, not having been able to find what they sought for. in this laborious journey they were reduced to such extremity, that many of them devoured their own shoes, the sheaths of their swords, knives, and other such things, being almost ravenous, and eager to meet some indians, intending to sacrifice them to their teeth. at last they arrived at the sea-coast, where they found some comfort and relief to their former miseries, and also means to seek more: yet the greatest part perished through faintness and other diseases contracted by hunger, which also caused the remaining part to disperse, till at last, by degrees, many or most of them fell into the same pit that lolonois did; of whom, and of whose companions, having given a compendious narrative, i shall continue with the actions and exploits of captain henry morgan, who may deservedly be called the second lolonois, not being unlike or inferior to him, either in achievements against the spaniards, or in robberies of many innocent people. chapter ix _the origin and descent of captain henry morgan--his exploits, and the most remarkable actions of his life._ captain henry morgan was born in great britain, in the principality of wales; his father was a rich yeoman, or farmer, of good quality, even as most who bear that name in wales are known to be. morgan, when young, had no inclination to the calling of his father, and therefore left his country, and came towards the sea-coasts to seek some other employment more suitable to his aspiring humour; where he found several ships at anchor, bound for barbadoes. with these he resolved to go in the service of one, who, according to the practice of those parts, sold him as soon as he came ashore. he served his time at barbadoes, and obtaining his liberty, betook himself to jamaica, there to seek new fortunes: here he found two vessels of pirates ready to go to sea; and being destitute of employment, he went with them, with intent to follow the exercises of that sort of people: he soon learned their manner of living, so exactly, that having performed three or four voyages with profit and success, he agreed with some of his comrades, who had got by the same voyages a little money, to join stocks, and buy a ship. the vessel being bought, they unanimously chose him captain and commander. with this ship he set forth from jamaica to cruise on the coasts of campechy, in which voyage he took several ships, with which he returned triumphant. here he found an old pirate, named mansvelt (whom we have already mentioned), busied in equipping a considerable fleet, with design to land on the continent, and pillage whatever he could. mansvelt seeing captain morgan return with so many prizes, judged him to be a man of courage, and chose him for his vice-admiral in that expedition: thus having fitted out fifteen ships, great and small, they sailed from jamaica with five hundred men, walloons and french. this fleet arrived, not long after, at the isle of st. catherine, near the continent of costa rica, latitude deg. min. and distant thirty-five leagues from the river chagre. here they made their first descent, landing most of their men, who soon forced the garrison that kept the island to surrender all the forts and castles thereof; which they instantly demolished, except one, wherein they placed a hundred men of their own party, and all the slaves they had taken from the spaniards: with the rest of their men they marched to another small island, so near st. catherine's, that with a bridge they made in a few days, they passed thither, taking with them all the ordnance they had taken on the great island. having ruined with fire and sword both the islands, leaving necessary orders at the said castle, they put to sea again, with their spanish prisoners; yet these they set ashore not long after, on the firm land, near puerto velo: then they cruised on costa rica, till they came to the river colla, designing to pillage all the towns in those parts, thence to pass to the village of nata, to do the same. the governor of panama, on advice of their arrival, and of the hostilities they committed, thought it his duty to meet them with a body of men. his coming caused the pirates to retire suddenly, seeing the whole country was alarmed, and that their designs were known, and consequently defeated at that time. hereupon, they returned to st. catherine's, to visit the hundred men they left in garrison there. the governor of these men was a frenchman, named le sieur simon, who behaved himself very well in that charge, while mansvelt was absent, having put the great island in a very good posture of defence, and the little one he had caused to be cultivated with many fertile plantations, sufficient to revictual the whole fleet, not only for the present, but also for a new voyage. mansvelt was very much bent to keep the two islands in perpetual possession, being very commodiously situated for the pirates; being so near the spanish dominions, and easily defended. hereupon, mansvelt determined to return to jamaica, to send recruits to st. catherine's, that in case of an invasion the pirates might be provided for a defence. as soon as he arrived, he propounded his intentions to the governor there, who rejected his propositions, fearing to displease his master, the king of england; besides, that giving him the men he desired, and necessaries, he must of necessity diminish the forces of that island, whereof he was governor. hereupon, mansvelt, knowing that of himself he could not compass his designs, he went to tortuga; but there, before he could put in execution what was intended, death surprised him, and put a period to his wicked life, leaving all things in suspense till the occasion i shall hereafter relate. le sieur simon, governor of st. catherine's, receiving no news from mansvelt, his admiral, was impatiently desirous to know the cause thereof: meanwhile, don john perez de guzman, being newly come to the government of costa rica, thought it not convenient for the interest of spain for that island to be in the hands of the pirates: hereupon, he equipped a considerable fleet, which he sent to retake it; but before he used violence, he writ a letter to le sieur simon, telling him, that if he would surrender the island to his catholic majesty, he should be very well rewarded; but, in case of refusal, severely punished, when he had forced him to do it. le sieur simon, seeing no probability of being able to defend it alone, nor any emolument that by so doing could accrue either to him, or his people, after some small resistance delivered it up to its true lord and master, under the same articles they had obtained it from the spaniards; a few days after which surrender, there arrived from jamaica an english ship, which the governor there had sent underhand, with a good supply of people, both men and women: the spaniards from the castle having espied the ship, put forth english colours, and persuaded le sieur simon to go aboard, and conduct the ship into a port they assigned him. this he performed and they were all made prisoners. a certain spanish engineer has published in print an exact relation of the retaking of this isle by the spaniards, which i have thought fit to insert here:-- _a true relation, and particular account of the victory obtained by the arms of his catholic majesty against the english pirates, by the direction and valour of don john perez de guzman, knight of the order of st. james, governor and captain-general of terra firma, and the province of veraguas._ the kingdom of terra firma, which of itself is sufficiently strong to repel and destroy great fleets, especially the pirates of jamaica, had several ways notice imparted to the governor thereof, that fourteen english vessels cruised on the coasts belonging to his catholic majesty. july , , news came to panama, that they were arrived at puerto de naos, and had forced the spanish garrison of the isle of st. catherine, whose governor was don estevan del campo, and possessed themselves of the said island, taking prisoners the inhabitants, and destroying all that they met. about the same time, don john perez de guzman received particular information of these robberies from some spaniards who escaped out of the island (and whom he ordered to be conveyed to puerto velo), that the said pirates came into the island may , by night, without being perceived; and that the next day, after some skirmishes, they took the fortresses, and made prisoners all the inhabitants and soldiers that could not escape. upon this, don john called a council of war, wherein he declared the great progress the said pirates had made in the dominions of his catholic majesty; and propounded "that it was absolutely necessary to send some forces to the isle of st. catherine, sufficient to retake it from the pirates, the honour and interest of his majesty of spain being very narrowly concerned herein; otherwise the pirates by such conquests might easily, in course of time, possess themselves of all the countries thereabouts." to this some made answer, "that the pirates, not being able to subsist in the said island, would of necessity consume and waste themselves, and be forced to quit it, without any necessity of retaking it: that consequently it was not worth the while to engage in so many expenses and troubles as this would cost." notwithstanding which, don john being an expert and valiant soldier, ordered that provisions should be conveyed to puerto velo for the use of the militia, and transported himself thither, with no small danger of his life. here he arrived july , with most things necessary to the expedition in hand, where he found in the port a good ship, and well mounted, called the _st. vincent_, that belonged to the company of the negroes, which he manned and victualled very well, and sent to the isle of st. catherine, constituting captain joseph sanchez ximenez, major of puerto velo, commander thereof. he carried with him two hundred and seventy soldiers, and thirty-seven prisoners of the same island, besides thirty-four spaniards of the garrison of puerto velo, twenty-nine mulattoes of panama, twelve indians, very dextrous at shooting with bows and arrows, seven expert and able gunners, two lieutenants, two pilots, one surgeon, and one priest, of the order of st. francis, for their chaplain. don john soon after gave orders to all the officers how to behave themselves, telling them that the governor of carthagena would supply them with more men, boats, and all things else, necessary for that enterprise; to which effect he had already written to the said governor. july , don john setting sail with a fair wind, he called before him all his people, and made them a speech, encouraging them to fight against the enemies of their country and religion, and especially against those inhuman pirates, who had committed so many horrid cruelties upon the subjects of his catholic majesty; withal, promising every one most liberal rewards, especially to such as should behave themselves well in the service of their king and country. thus don john bid them farewell, and the ship set sail under a favourable gale. the nd they arrived at carthagena, and presented a letter to the governor thereof, from the noble and valiant don john, who received it with testimonies of great affection to the person of don john, and his majesty's service: and seeing their resolution to be comfortable to his desires, he promised them his assistance, with one frigate, one galleon, one boat, and one hundred and twenty-six men; one half out of his own garrison, and the other half mulattoes. thus being well provided with necessaries, they left the port of carthagena, august , and the th they arrived in sight of st. catherine's towards the western point thereof; and though the wind was contrary, yet they reached the port, and anchored within it, having lost one of their boats by foul weather, at the rock called quita signos. the pirates, seeing our ships come to an anchor, gave them presently three guns with bullets, which were soon answered in the same coin. hereupon, major joseph sanchez ximenez sent ashore to the pirates one of his officers to require them, in the name of the catholic king his master, to surrender the island, seeing they had taken it in the midst of peace between the two crowns of spain and england; and that if they would be obstinate, he would certainly put them all to the sword. the pirates made answer, that the island had once before belonged unto the government and dominions of the king of england, and that instead of surrendering it, they preferred to lose their lives. on friday the th, three negroes, from the enemy, came swimming aboard our admiral; these brought intelligence that all the pirates upon the island were only seventy-two in number, and that they were under a great consternation, seeing such considerable forces come against them. with this intelligence, the spaniards resolved to land, and advance towards the fortresses, which ceased not to fire as many great guns against them as they possibly could; which were answered in the same manner on our side, till dark night. on sunday, the th, the day of the assumption of our lady, the weather being very calm and clear, the spaniards began to advance thus: the ship _st. vincent_, riding admiral, discharged two whole broadsides on the battery called the conception; the ship _st. peter_, that was vice-admiral, discharged likewise her guns against the other battery named st. james: meanwhile, our people landed in small boats, directing their course towards the point of the battery last mentioned, and thence they marched towards the gate called cortadura. lieutenant francis de cazeres, being desirous to view the strength of the enemy, with only fifteen men, was compelled to retreat in haste, by reason of the great guns, which played so furiously on the place where he stood; they shooting, not only pieces of iron, and small bullets, but also the organs of the church, discharging in every shot threescore pipes at a time. notwithstanding this heat of the enemy, captain don joseph ramirez de leyva, with sixty men, made a strong attack, wherein they fought on both sides very desperately, till at last he overcame, and forced the pirates to surrender the fort. on the other side, captain john galeno, with ninety men, passed over the hills, to advance that way towards the castle of st. teresa. meanwhile major don joseph sanchez ximenes, as commander-in-chief, with the rest of his men, set forth from the battery of st. james, passing the port with four boats, and landing, in despite of the enemy. about this same time, captain john galeno began to advance with the men he led to the forementioned fortress; so that our men made three attacks on three several sides, at one and the same time, with great courage; till the pirates seeing many of their men already killed, and that they could in no manner subsist any longer, retreated towards cortadura, where they surrendered, themselves and the whole island, into our hands. our people possessed themselves of all, and set up the spanish colours, as soon as they had rendered thanks to god almighty for the victory obtained on such a signalized day. the number of dead were six men of the enemies, with many wounded, and seventy prisoners: on our side was only one man killed, and four wounded. there were found on the island eight hundred pounds of powder, two hundred and fifty pounds of small bullets, with many other military provisions. among the prisoners were taken also, two spaniards, who had bore arms under the english against his catholic majesty: these were shot to death the next day, by order of the major. the th day of september arrived at the isle an english vessel, which being seen at a great distance by the major, he ordered le sieur simon, who was a frenchman, to go and visit the said ship, and tell them that were on board, that the island belonged still to the english. he performed the command, and found in the said ship only fourteen men, one woman and her daughter, who were all instantly made prisoners. the english pirates were all transported to puerto velo, excepting three, who by order of the governor were carried to panama, there to work in the castle of st. jerom. this fortification is an excellent piece of workmanship, and very strong, being raised in the middle of the port of a quadrangular form, and of very hard stone: its height is eighty-eight geometrical feet, the wall being fourteen, and the curtains seventy-five feet diameter. it was built at the expense of several private persons, the governor of the city furnishing the greatest part of the money; so that it cost his majesty nothing. chapter x _of the island of cuba--captain morgan attempts to preserve the isle of st. catherine as a refuge to the nest of pirates, but fails of his design--he arrives at and takes the village of el puerto del principe._ captain morgan seeing his predecessor and admiral mansvelt were dead, used all the means that were possible, to keep in possession the isle of st. catherine, seated near cuba. his chief intent was to make it a refuge and sanctuary to the pirates of those parts, putting it in a condition of being a convenient receptacle of their preys and robberies. to this effect he left no stone unmoved, writing to several merchants in virginia and new england, persuading them to send him provisions and necessaries, towards putting the said island in such a posture of defence, as to fear no danger of invasion from any side. but all this proved ineffectual, by the spaniards retaking the said island: yet captain morgan retained his courage, which put him on new designs. first, he equipped a ship, in order to gather a fleet as great, and as strong as he could. by degrees he effected it, and gave orders to every member of his fleet to meet at a certain port of cuba, there determining to call a council, and deliberate what was best to be done, and what place first to fall upon. leaving these preparations in this condition, i shall give my reader some small account of the said isle of cuba, in whose port this expedition was hatched, seeing i omitted to do it in its proper place. cuba lies from east to west, in north latitude, from to deg. in length one hundred and fifty german leagues, and about forty in breadth. its fertility is equal to that of hispaniola; besides which, it affords many things proper for trading and commerce; such as hides of several beasts, particularly those that in europe are called hides of havanna. on all sides it is surrounded with many small islands, called the cayos: these little islands the pirates use as ports of refuge. here they have their meetings, and hold their councils, how best to assault the spaniards. it is watered on all sides with plentiful and pleasant rivers, whose entries form both secure and spacious ports; beside many other harbours for ships, which along the calm shores and coasts adorn this rich and beautiful island; all which contribute much to its happiness, by facilitating trade, whereto they invited both natives and aliens. the chief of these ports are san jago, byame, santa maria, espiritu santo, trinidad, zagoa, cabo de corientes, and others, on the south side of the island: on the north side are, la havanna, puerto mariano, santa cruz, mata ricos, and barracoa. this island hath two chief cities, to which all the towns and villages thereof give obedience. the first is santa jago, or st. james, seated on the south side, and having under its jurisdiction one half of the island. the chief magistrates hereof are a bishop and a governor, who command the villages and towns of the said half. the chief of these are, on the south side, espiritu santo, puerto del principe, and bayame. on the north it has barracoa, and de los cayos. the greatest part of the commerce driven here comes from the canaries, whither they transport much tobacco, sugar, and hides, which sort of merchandise are drawn to the head city from the subordinate towns and villages. formerly the city of santa jago was miserably sacked by the pirates of jamaica and tortuga, though it is defended by a considerable castle. [illustration: "captain morgan recruiting his forces"--_page _] the city and port de la havanna lies between the north and west side of the island: this is one of the strongest places of the west indies; its jurisdiction extends over the other half of the island; the chief places under it being santa cruz on the north side, and la trinidad on the south. hence is transported huge quantities of tobacco, which is sent to new spain and costa rica, even as far as the south sea, besides many ships laden with this commodity, that are consigned to spain and other parts of europe, not only in the leaf, but in rolls. this city is defended by three castles, very great and strong, two of which lie towards the port, and the other is seated on a hill that commands the town. it is esteemed to contain about ten thousand families. the merchants of this place trade in new spain, campechy, honduras, and florida. all ships that come from the parts before mentioned, as also from caraccas, carthagena and costa rica, are necessitated to take their provisions in at havanna to make their voyage for spain; this being the necessary and straight course they must steer for the south of europe, and other parts. the plate-fleet of spain, which the spaniards call flota, being homeward bound, touches here yearly to complete their cargo with hides, tobacco, and campechy wood. captain morgan had been but two months in these ports of the south of cuba, when he had got together a fleet of twelve sail, between ships and great boats, with seven hundred fighting men, part english and part french. they called a council, and some advised to assault the city of havanna in the night, which they said might easily be done, if they could but take any of the ecclesiastics; yea, that the city might be sacked before the castles could put themselves in a posture of defence. others propounded, according to their several opinions, other attempts; but the former proposal was rejected, because many of the pirates, who had been prisoners at other times in the said city, affirmed nothing of consequence could be done with less than one thousand five hundred men. moreover, that with all these people, they ought first go to the island de los pinos, and land them in small boats about matamona, fourteen leagues from the said city, whereby to accomplish their designs. finally, they saw no possibility of gathering so great a fleet, and hereupon, with what they had, they concluded to attempt some other place. among the rest, one propounded they should assault the town of el puerto del principe. this proposition he persuaded to, by saying he knew that place very well, and that being at a distance from sea, it never was sacked by any pirates, whereby the inhabitants were rich, exercising their trade by ready money, with those of havanna who kept here an established commerce, chiefly in hides. this proposal was presently admitted by captain morgan, and the chief of his companions. hereupon they ordered every captain to weigh anchor and set sail, steering towards that coast nearest to el puerto del principe. here is a bay named by the spaniards el puerto de santa maria: being arrived at this bay, a spaniard, who was prisoner aboard the fleet, swam ashore by night to the town of el puerto del principe, giving an account to the inhabitants of the design of the pirates, which he overheard in their discourse, while they thought he did not understand english. the spaniards upon this advice began to hide their riches, and carry away their movables; the governor immediately raised all the people of the town, freemen and slaves, and with part of them took a post by which of necessity the pirates must pass, and commanded many trees to be cut down and laid cross the ways to hinder their passage, placing several ambuscades strengthened with some pieces of cannon to play upon them on their march. he gathered in all about eight hundred men, of which detaching part into the said ambuscades, with the rest he begirt the town, drawing them up in a spacious field, whence they could see the coming of the pirates at length. captain morgan, with his men, now on the march, found the avenues to the town unpassable; hereupon they took their way through the wood, traversing it with great difficulty, whereby they escaped divers ambuscades; at last they came to the plain, from its figure called by the spaniards la savanna, or the sheet. the governor seeing them come, detached a troop of horse to charge them in the front, thinking to disperse them, and to pursue them with his main body: but this design succeeded not, for the pirates marched in very good order, at the sound of their drums, and with flying colours; coming near the horse they drew into a semicircle, and so advanced towards the spaniards, who charged them valiantly for a while; but the pirates being very dextrous at their arms, and their governor, with many of their companions, being killed, they retreated towards the wood, to save themselves with more advantage; but before they could reach it, most of them were unfortunately killed by the pirates. thus they left the victory to these new-come enemies, who had no considerable loss of men in the battle, and but very few wounded. the skirmish lasted four hours: they entered the town not without great resistance of such as were within, who defended themselves as long as possible, and many seeing the enemy in the town, shut themselves up in their own houses, and thence made several shots upon the pirates; who thereupon threatened them, saying, "if you surrender not voluntarily, you shall soon see the town in a flame, and your wives and children torn to pieces before your faces." upon these menaces the spaniards submitted to the discretion of the pirates, believing they could not continue there long. as soon as the pirates had possessed themselves of the town, they enclosed all the spaniards, men, women, children, and slaves, in several churches, and pillaged all the goods they could find; then they searched the country round about, bringing in daily many goods and prisoners, with much provision. with this they fell to making great cheer, after their old custom, without remembering the poor prisoners, whom they let starve in the churches, though they tormented them daily and inhumanly to make them confess where they had hid their goods, money, &c., though little or nothing was left them, not sparing the women and little children, giving them nothing to eat, whereby the greatest part perished. pillage and provisions growing scarce, they thought convenient to depart and seek new fortunes in other places; they told the prisoners, "they should find money to ransom themselves, else they should be all transported to jamaica; and beside, if they did not pay a second ransom for the town, they would turn every house into ashes." the spaniards hereupon nominated among themselves four fellow-prisoners to go and seek for the above-mentioned contributions; but the pirates, to the intent that they should return speedily with those ransoms, tormented several cruelly in their presence, before they departed. after a few days, the spaniards returned, telling captain morgan, "we have ran up and down, and searched all the neighbouring woods and places we most suspected, and yet have not been able to find any of our own party, nor consequently any fruit of our embassy; but if you are pleased to have a little longer patience with us, we shall certainly cause all that you demand to be paid within fifteen days;" which captain morgan granted. but not long after, there came into the town seven or eight pirates who had been ranging in the woods and fields, and got considerable booty. these brought amongst other prisoners, a negro, whom they had taken with letters. captain morgan having perused them, found that they were from the governor of santa jago, being written to some of the prisoners, wherein he told them, "they should not make too much haste to pay any ransom for their town or persons, or any other pretext; but on the contrary, they should put off the pirates as well as they could with excuses and delays, expecting to be relieved by him in a short time, when he would certainly come to their aid." upon this intelligence captain morgan immediately ordered all their plunder to be carried aboard; and withal, he told the spaniards, that the very next day they should pay their ransoms, for he would not wait a moment longer, but reduce the whole town to ashes, if they failed of the sum he demanded. [illustration: "'being come to the place of duel, the englishman stabbed the frenchman in the back'"--_page _] with this intimation, captain morgan made no mention to the spaniards of the letters he had intercepted. they answered, "that it was impossible for them to give such a sum of money in so short a space of time, seeing their fellow-townsmen were not to be found in all the country thereabouts." captain morgan knew full well their intentions, but thought it not convenient to stay there any longer, demanding of them only five hundred oxen or cows, with sufficient salt to powder them, with this condition, that they should carry them on board his ships. thus he departed with all his men, taking with him only six of the principal prisoners as pledges. next day the spaniards brought the cattle and salt to the ships, and required the prisoners; but captain morgan refused to deliver them, till they had helped his men to kill and salt the beeves: this was performed in great haste, he not caring to stay there any longer, lest he should be surprised by the forces that were gathering against him; and having received all on board his vessels, he set at liberty the hostages. meanwhile there happened some dissensions between the english and the french: the occasion was as follows: a frenchman being employed in killing and salting the beeves, an english pirate took away the marrow-bones he had taken out of the ox, which these people esteem much; hereupon they challenged one another: being come to the place of duel, the englishman stabbed the frenchman in the back, whereby he fell down dead. the other frenchmen, desirous of revenge, made an insurrection against the english; but captain morgan soon appeased them, by putting the criminal in chains to be carried to jamaica, promising he would see justice done upon him; for though he might challenge his adversary, yet it was not lawful to kill him treacherously, as he did. all things being ready, and on board, and the prisoners set at liberty, they sailed thence to a certain island, where captain morgan intended to make a dividend of what they had purchased in that voyage; where being arrived, they found nigh the value of fifty thousand pieces of eight in money and goods; the sum being known, it caused a general grief to see such a small purchase, not sufficient to pay their debts at jamaica. hereupon captain morgan proposed they should think on some other enterprise and pillage before they returned. but the french not being able to agree with the english, left captain morgan with those of his own nation, notwithstanding all the persuasions he used to reduce them to continue in his company. thus they parted with all external signs of friendship, captain morgan reiterating his promises to them that he would see justice done on that criminal. this he performed; for being arrived at jamaica, he caused him to be hanged, which was all the satisfaction the french pirates could expect. chapter xi _captain morgan resolving to attack and plunder the city of puerto bello, equips a fleet, and with little expense and small forces takes it._ some may think that the french having deserted captain morgan, the english alone could not have sufficient courage to attempt such great actions as before. but captain morgan, who always communicated vigour with his words, infused such spirit into his men, as put them instantly upon new designs; they being all persuaded that the sole execution of his orders would be a certain means of obtaining great riches, which so influenced their minds, that with inimitable courage they all resolved to follow him, as did also a certain pirate of campechy, who on this occasion joined with captain morgan, to seek new fortunes under his conduct. thus captain morgan in a few days gathered a fleet of nine sail, either ships or great boats, wherein he had four hundred and sixty military men. all things being ready, they put forth to sea, captain morgan imparting his design to nobody at present; he only told them on several occasions, that he doubted not to make a good fortune by that voyage, if strange occurrences happened not. they steered towards the continent, where they arrived in a few days near costa rica, all their fleet safe. no sooner had they discovered land but captain morgan declared his intentions to the captains, and presently after to the company. he told them he intended to plunder puerto bello by night, being resolved to put the whole city to the sack: and to encourage them he added, this enterprise could not fail, seeing he had kept it secret, without revealing it to anybody, whereby they could not have notice of his coming. to this proposition some answered, "they had not a sufficient number of men to assault so strong and great a city." but captain morgan replied, "if our number is small, our hearts are great; and the fewer persons we are, the more union and better shares we shall have in the spoil." hereupon, being stimulated with the hope of those vast riches they promised themselves from their success, they unanimously agreed to that design. now, that my reader may better comprehend the boldness of this exploit, it may be necessary to say something beforehand of the city of puerto bello. this city is in the province of costa rica, deg. north latitude, fourteen leagues from the gulf of darien, and eight westwards from the port called nombre de dios. it is judged the strongest place the king of spain possesses in all the west indies, except havanna and carthagena. here are two castles almost impregnable, that defend the city, situate at the entry of the port, so that no ship or boat can pass without permission. the garrison consists of three hundred soldiers, and the town is inhabited by about four hundred families. the merchants dwell not here, but only reside awhile, when the galleons come from or go for spain, by reason of the unhealthiness of the air, occasioned by vapours from the mountains; so that though their chief warehouses are at puerto bello, their habitations are at panama, whence they bring the plate upon mules, when the fair begins, and when the ships belonging to the company of negroes arrive to sell slaves. captain morgan, who knew very well all the avenues of this city and the neighbouring coasts, arrived in the dusk of the evening at puerto de naos, ten leagues to the west of puerto bello. being come hither, they sailed up the river to another harbour called puerto pontin, where they anchored: here they put themselves into boats and canoes, leaving in the ships only a few men to bring them next day to the port. about midnight they came to a place called estera longa lemos, where they all went on shore, and marched by land to the first posts of the city: they had in their company an englishman, formerly a prisoner in those parts, who now served them for a guide: to him and three or four more they gave commission to take the sentinel, if possible, or kill him on the place: but they seized him so cunningly, as he had no time to give warning with his musket, or make any noise, and brought him, with his hands bound, to captain morgan, who asked him how things went in the city, and what forces they had; with other circumstances he desired to know. after every question they made him a thousand menaces to kill him, if he declared not the truth. then they advanced to the city, carrying the said sentinel bound before them: having marched about a quarter of a league, they came to the castle near the city, which presently they closely surrounded, so that no person could get either in or out. being posted under the walls of the castle, captain morgan commanded the sentinel, whom they had taken prisoner, to speak to those within, charging them to surrender to his discretion; otherwise they should all be cut in pieces, without quarter. but they regarding none of these threats, began instantly to fire, which alarmed the city; yet notwithstanding, though the governor and soldiers of the said castle made as great resistance as could be, they were forced to surrender. having taken the castle, they resolved to be as good as their words, putting the spaniards to the sword, thereby to strike a terror into the rest of the city. whereupon, having shut up all the soldiers and officers as prisoners into one room, they set fire to the powder (whereof they found great quantity) and blew up the castle into the air, with all the spaniards that were within. this done, they pursued the course of their victory, falling upon the city, which, as yet, was not ready to receive them. many of the inhabitants cast their precious jewels and money into wells and cisterns, or hid them in places underground, to avoid, as much as possible, being totally robbed. one of the party of pirates, assigned to this purpose, ran immediately to the cloisters, and took as many religious men and women as they could find. the governor of the city, not being able to rally the citizens, through their great confusion, retired to one of the castles remaining, and thence fired incessantly at the pirates: but these were not in the least negligent either to assault him, or defend themselves, so that amidst the horror of the assault, they made very few shots in vain; for aiming with great dexterity at the mouths of the guns, the spaniards were certain to lose one or two men every time they charged each gun anew. this continued very furious from break of day till noon; yea, about this time of the day the case was very dubious which party should conquer, or be conquered. at last, the pirates perceiving they had lost many men, and yet advanced but little towards gaining either this, or the other castles, made use of fire-balls, which they threw with their hands, designing to burn the doors of the castles; but the spaniards from the walls let fall great quantities of stones, and earthen pots full of powder, and other combustible matter, which forced them to desist. captain morgan seeing this generous defence made by the spaniards, began to despair of success. hereupon, many faint and calm meditations came into his mind; neither could he determine which way to turn himself in that strait. being thus puzzled, he was suddenly animated to continue the assault, by seeing english colours put forth at one of the lesser castles, then entered by his men; of whom he presently after spied a troop coming to meet him, proclaiming victory with loud shouts of joy. this instantly put him on new resolutions of taking the rest of the castles, especially seeing the chiefest citizens were fled to them, and had conveyed thither great part of their riches, with all the plate belonging to the churches and divine service. [illustration: "morgan commanded the religious men and women to place the ladders against the walls"--_page _] to this effect, he ordered ten or twelve ladders to be made in all haste, so broad, that three or four men at once might ascend them: these being finished, he commanded all the religious men and women, whom he had taken prisoners, to fix them against the walls of the castle. this he had before threatened the governor to do, if he delivered not the castle: but his answer was, "he would never surrender himself alive." captain morgan was persuaded the governor would not employ his utmost force, seeing the religious women, and ecclesiastical persons, exposed in the front of the soldiers to the greatest danger. thus the ladders, as i have said, were put into the hands of religious persons of both sexes, and these were forced, at the head of the companies, to raise and apply them to the walls: but captain morgan was fully deceived in his judgment of this design; for the governor, who acted like a brave soldier in performance of his duty, used his utmost endeavour to destroy whosoever came near the walls. the religious men and women ceased not to cry to him, and beg of him, by all the saints of heaven, to deliver the castle, and spare both his and their own lives; but nothing could prevail with his obstinacy and fierceness. thus many of the religious men and nuns were killed before they could fix the ladders; which at last being done, though with great loss of the said religious people, the pirates mounted them in great numbers, and with not less valour, having fire-balls in their hands, and earthen pots full of powder; all which things, being now at the top of the walls, they kindled and cast in among the spaniards. this effort of the pirates was very great, insomuch that the spaniards could no longer resist nor defend the castle, which was now entered. hereupon they all threw down their arms, and craved quarter for their lives; only the governor of the city would crave no mercy, but killed many of the pirates with his own hands, and not a few of his own soldiers; because they did not stand to their arms. and though the pirates asked him if he would have quarter; yet he constantly answered, "by no means, i had rather die as a valiant soldier, than be hanged as a coward." they endeavoured as much as they could to take him prisoner, but he defended himself so obstinately, that they were forced to kill him, notwithstanding all the cries and tears of his own wife and daughter, who begged him, on their knees, to demand quarter, and save his life. when the pirates had possessed themselves of the castle, which was about night, they enclosed therein all the prisoners, placing the women and men by themselves, with some guards: the wounded were put in an apartment by itself, that their own complaints might be the cure of their diseases; for no other was afforded them. this done, they fell to eating and drinking, as usual; that is, committing in both all manner of debauchery and excess, so that fifty courageous men might easily have retaken the city, and killed all the pirates. next day, having plundered all they could find, they examined some of the prisoners (who had been persuaded by their companions to say they were the richest of the town), charging them severely to discover where they had hid their riches and goods. not being able to extort anything from them, they not being the right persons, it was resolved to torture them: this they did so cruelly, that many of them died on the rack, or presently after. now the president of panama being advertised of the pillage and ruin of puerto bello, he employed all his care and industry to raise forces to pursue and cast out the pirates thence; but these cared little for his preparations, having their ships at hand, and determining to fire the city, and retreat. they had now been at puerto bello fifteen days, in which time they had lost many of their men, both by the unhealthiness of the country, and their extravagant debaucheries. hereupon, they prepared to depart, carrying on board all the pillage they had got, having first provided the fleet with sufficient victuals for the voyage. while these things were doing, captain morgan demanded of the prisoners a ransom for the city, or else he would burn it down, and blow up all the castles; withal, he commanded them to send speedily two persons, to procure the sum, which was , pieces of eight. to this effect two men were sent to the president of panama, who gave him an account of all. the president, having now a body of men ready, set forth towards puerto bello, to encounter the pirates before their retreat; but, they, hearing of his coming, instead of flying away, went out to meet him at a narrow passage, which he must pass: here they placed a hundred men, very well armed, which at the first encounter put to flight a good party of those of panama. this obliged the president to retire for that time, not being yet in a posture of strength to proceed farther. presently after, he sent a message to captain morgan, to tell him, "that if he departed not suddenly with all his forces from puerto bello, he ought to expect no quarter for himself, nor his companions, when he should take them, as he hoped soon to do." captain morgan, who feared not his threats, knowing he had a secure retreat in his ships, which were at hand, answered, "he would not deliver the castles, before he had received the contribution money he had demanded; which if it were not paid down, he would certainly burn the whole city, and then leave it, demolishing beforehand the castles, and killing the prisoners." the governor of panama perceived by this answer that no means would serve to mollify the hearts of the pirates, nor reduce them to reason: hereupon, he determined to leave them, as also those of the city whom he came to relieve, involved in the difficulties of making the best agreement they could. thus in a few days more the miserable citizens gathered the contributions required, and brought , pieces of eight to the pirates for a ransom of their cruel captivity: but the president of panama was much amazed to consider that four hundred men could take such a great city, with so many strong castles, especially having no ordnance, wherewith to raise batteries, and, what was more, knowing the citizens of puerto bello had always great repute of being good soldiers themselves, and who never wanted courage in their own defence. this astonishment was so great, as made him send to captain morgan, desiring some small pattern of those arms wherewith he had taken with much vigour so great a city. captain morgan received this messenger very kindly, and with great civility; and gave him a pistol, and a few small bullets, to carry back to the president his master; telling him, withal, "he desired him to accept that slender pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken puerto bello, and keep them for a twelvemonth; after which time he promised to come to panama, and fetch them away." the governor returned the present very soon to captain morgan, giving him thanks for the favour of lending him such weapons as he needed not; and, withal, sent him a ring of gold, with this message, "that he desired him not to give himself the labour of coming to panama, as he had done to puerto bello: for he did assure him, he should not speed so well here, as he had done there." after this, captain morgan (having provided his fleet with all necessaries, and taken with him the best guns of the castles, nailing up the rest) set sail from puerto bello with all his ships, and arriving in a few days at cuba, he sought out a place wherein he might quickly make the dividend of their spoil. they found in ready money , pieces of eight, besides other merchandises; as cloth, linen, silks, &c. with this rich purchase they sailed thence to their common place of rendezvous, jamaica. being arrived, they passed here some time in all sorts of vices and debaucheries, according to their custom; spending very prodigally what others had gained with no small labour and toil. chapter xii _captain morgan takes the city of maracaibo on the coast of neuva venezuela--piracies committed in those seas--ruin of three spanish ships, set forth to hinder the robberies of the pirates._ not long after their arrival at jamaica, being that short time they needed to lavish away all the riches above mentioned, they concluded on another enterprise to seek new fortunes: to this effect captain morgan ordered all the commanders of his ships to meet at de la vacca, or the cow isle, south of hispaniola, as is said. hither flocked to them great numbers of other pirates, french and english; the name of captain morgan being now famous in all the neighbouring countries for his great enterprises. there was then at jamaica an english ship newly come from new england, well mounted with thirty-six guns: this vessel, by order of the governor of jamaica, joined captain morgan to strengthen his fleet, and give him greater courage to attempt mighty things. with this supply captain morgan judged himself sufficiently strong; but there being in the same place another great vessel of twenty-four iron guns, and twelve brass ones, belonging to the french, captain morgan endeavoured also to join this ship to his own; but the french not daring to trust the english, denied absolutely to consent. the french pirates belonging to this great ship had met at sea an english vessel; and being under great want of victuals, they had taken some provisions out of the english ship, without paying for them, having, perhaps, no ready money aboard: only they gave them bills of exchange for jamaica and tortuga, to receive money there. captain morgan having notice of this, and perceiving he could not prevail with the french captain to follow him, resolved to lay hold on this occasion, to ruin the french, and seek his revenge. hereupon he invited, with dissimulation, the french commander, and several of his men, to dine with him on board the great ship that was come to jamaica, as is said. being come, he made them all prisoners, pretending the injury aforesaid done to the english vessel. this unjust action of captain morgan was soon followed by divine punishment, as we may conceive: the manner i shall instantly relate. captain morgan, presently after he had taken these french prisoners, called a council to deliberate what place they should first pitch upon in this new expedition. here it was determined to go to the isle of savona, to wait for the flota then expected from spain, and take any of the spanish vessels straggling from the rest. this resolution being taken, they began aboard the great ship to feast one another for joy of their new voyage, and happy council, as they hoped: they drank many healths, and discharged many guns, the common sign of mirth among seamen. most of the men being drunk, by what accident is not known, the ship suddenly was blown up, with three hundred and fifty englishmen, besides the french prisoners in the hold; of all which there escaped but thirty men, who were in the great cabin, at some distance from the main force of the powder. many more, it is thought, might have escaped, had they not been so much overtaken with wine. this loss brought much consternation of mind upon the english; they knew not whom to blame, but at last the accusation was laid on the french prisoners, whom they suspected to have fired the powder of the ship out of revenge, though with the loss of their own lives: hereupon they added new accusations to their former, whereby to seize the ship and all that was in it, by saying the french designed to commit piracy on the english. the grounds of this accusation were given by a commission from the governor of barracoa, found aboard the french vessel, wherein were these words, "that the said governor did permit the french to trade in all spanish ports," &c. "as also to cruise on the english pirates in what place soever they could find them, because of the multitudes of hostilities which they had committed against the subjects of his catholic majesty in time of peace betwixt the two crowns." this commission for trade was interpreted as an express order to exercise piracy and war against them, though it was only a bare licence for coming into the spanish ports; the cloak of which permission were those words, "that they should cruise upon the english." and though the french did sufficiently expound the true sense of it, yet they could not clear themselves to captain morgan nor his council: but in lieu thereof, the ship and men were seized and sent to jamaica. here they also endeavoured to obtain justice, and the restitution of their ship, but all in vain; for instead of justice, they were long detained in prison, and threatened with hanging. eight days after the loss of the said ship, captain morgan commanded the bodies of the miserable wretches who were blown up to be searched for, as they floated on the sea; not to afford them christian burial, but for their clothes and attire: and if any had gold rings on their fingers, these were cut off, leaving them exposed to the voracity of the monsters of the sea. at last they set sail for savona, the place of their assignation. there were in all fifteen vessels, captain morgan commanding the biggest, of only fourteen small guns; his number of men was nine hundred and sixty. few days after, they arrived at the cabo de lobos, south of hispaniola, between cape tiburon and cape punta de espada: hence they could not pass by reason of contrary winds for three weeks, notwithstanding all the utmost endeavours captain morgan used to get forth; then they doubled the cape, and spied an english vessel at a distance. having spoken with her, they found she came from england, and bought of her, for ready money, some provisions they wanted. captain morgan proceeded on his voyage till he came to the port of ocoa; here he landed some men, sending them into the woods to seek water and provisions, the better to spare such as he had already on board. they killed many beasts, and among others some horses. but the spaniards, not well satisfied at their hunting, laid a stratagem for them, ordering three or four hundred men to come from santo domingo not far distant, and desiring them to hunt in all the parts thereabout near the sea, that so, if the pirates should return, they might find no subsistence. within few days the same pirates returned to hunt, but finding nothing to kill, a party of about fifty straggled farther on into the woods. the spaniards, who watched all their motions, gathered a great herd of cows, and set two or three men to keep them. the pirates having spied them, killed a sufficient number; and though the spaniards could see them at a distance, yet they could not hinder them at present; but as soon as they attempted to carry them away, they set upon them furiously, crying, "mata, mata," _i.e._, "kill, kill." thus the pirates were compelled to quit the prey, and retreat to their ships; but they did it in good order, retiring by degrees, and when they had opportunity, discharging full volleys on the spaniards, killing many of their enemies, though with some loss. the spaniards seeing their damage, endeavoured to save themselves by flight, and carry off their dead and wounded companions. the pirates perceiving them flee, would not content themselves with what hurt they had already done, but pursued them speedily into the woods, and killed the greatest part of those that remained. next day captain morgan, extremely offended at what had passed, went himself with two hundred men into the woods to seek for the rest of the spaniards, but finding nobody, he revenged his wrath on the houses of the poor and miserable rustics that inhabit those scattering fields and woods, of which he burnt a great number: with this he returned to his ships, somewhat more satisfied in his mind for having done some considerable damage to the enemy; which was always his most ardent desire. the impatience wherewith captain morgan had waited a long while for some of his ships not yet arrived, made him resolve to sail away without them, and steer for savona, the place he always designed. being arrived, and not finding any of his ships come, he was more impatient and concerned than before, fearing their loss, or that he must proceed without them; but he waiting for their arrival a few days longer, and having no great plenty of provisions, he sent a crew of one hundred and fifty men to hispaniola to pillage some towns near santo domingo; but the spaniards, upon intelligence of their coming, were so vigilant, and in such good posture of defence, that the pirates thought not convenient to assault them, choosing rather to return empty-handed to captain morgan, than to perish in that desperate enterprise. at last captain morgan, seeing the other ships did not come, made a review of his people, and found only about five hundred men; the ships wanting were seven, he having only eight in his company, of which the greatest part were very small. having hitherto resolved to cruise on the coasts of caraccas, and to plunder the towns and villages there, finding himself at present with such small forces, he changed his resolution by advice of a french captain in his fleet. this frenchman having served lolonois in the like enterprises, and at the taking of maracaibo, knew all the entries, passages, forces, and means, how to put in execution the same again in company of captain morgan; to whom having made a full relation of all, he concluded to sack it the second time, being himself persuaded, with all his men, of the facility the frenchman propounded. hereupon they weighed anchor, and steered towards curasao. being come within sight of it, they landed at another island near it, called ruba, about twelve leagues from curasao to the west. this island, defended by a slender garrison, is inhabited by indians subject to spain, and speak spanish, by reason of the roman catholic religion, here cultivated by a few priests sent from the neighbouring continent. the inhabitants exercise commerce or trade with the pirates that go or come this way: they buy of the islanders sheep, lambs, and kids, which they exchange for linen, thread, and like things. the country is very dry and barren, the whole substance thereof consisting in those three things, and in a little indifferent wheat. this isle produces many venomous insects, as vipers, spiders, and others. these last are so pernicious, that a man bitten by them dies mad; and the manner of recovering such is to tie them very fast both hands and feet, and so to leave them twenty-four hours, without eating or drinking anything. captain morgan, as was said, having cast anchor before this island, bought of the inhabitants sheep, lambs, and wood, for all his fleet. after two days, he sailed again in the night, to the intent they might not see what course he steered. next day they arrived at the sea of maracaibo, taking great care not to be seen from vigilia, for which reason they anchored out of sight of it. night being come, they set sail again towards the land, and next morning, by break of day, were got directly over against the bar of the said lake. the spaniards had built another fort since the action of lolonois, whence they now fired continually against the pirates, while they put their men into boats to land. the dispute continued very hot, being managed with great courage from morning till dark night. this being come, captain morgan, in the obscurity thereof, drew nigh the fort, which having examined, he found nobody in it, the spaniards having deserted it not long before. they left behind them a match lighted near a train of powder, to have blown up the pirates and the whole fortress as soon as they were in it. this design had taken effect, had not the pirates discovered it in a quarter of an hour; but captain morgan snatching away the match, saved both his own and his companions' lives. they found here much powder, whereof he provided his fleet, and then demolished part of the walls, nailing sixteen pieces of ordnance, from twelve to twenty-four pounders. here they also found many muskets and other military provisions. next day they commanded the ships to enter the bar, among which they divided the powder, muskets, and other things found in the fort: then they embarked again to continue their course towards maracaibo; but the waters being very low, they could not pass a certain bank at the entry of the lake: hereupon they were compelled to go into canoes and small boats, with which they arrived next day before maracaibo, having no other defence than some small pieces which they could carry in the said boats. being landed, they ran immediately to the fort de la barra, which they found as the precedent, without any person in it, for all were fled into the woods, leaving also the town without any people, unless a few miserable folks, who had nothing to lose. as soon as they had entered the town, the pirates searched every corner, to see if they could find any people that were hid, who might offend them unawares; not finding anybody, every party, as they came out of their several ships, chose what houses they pleased. the church was deputed for the common corps du guard, where they lived after their military manner, very insolently. next day after they sent a troop of a hundred men to seek for the inhabitants and their goods; these returned next day, bringing with them thirty persons, men, women, and children, and fifty mules laden with good merchandise. all these miserable people were put to the rack, to make them confess where the rest of the inhabitants were, and their goods. among other tortures, one was to stretch their limbs with cords, and then to beat them with sticks and other instruments. others had burning matches placed betwixt their fingers, which were thus burnt alive. others had slender cords or matches twisted about their heads, till their eyes burst out. thus all inhuman cruelties were executed on those innocent people. those who would not confess, or who had nothing to declare, died under the hands of those villains. these tortures and racks continued for three whole weeks, in which time they sent out daily parties to seek for more people to torment and rob, they never returning without booty and new riches. captain morgan having now gotten into his hands about a hundred of the chief families, with all their goods, at last resolved for gibraltar, as lolonois had done before: with this design he equipped his fleet, providing it sufficiently with all necessaries. he put likewise on board all the prisoners, and weighing anchor, set sail with resolution to hazard a battle. they had sent before some prisoners to gibraltar, to require the inhabitants to surrender, otherwise captain morgan would certainly put them all to the sword, without any quarter. arriving before gibraltar, the inhabitants received him with continual shooting of great cannon bullets; but the pirates, instead of fainting hereat, ceased not to encourage one another, saying, "we must make one meal upon bitter things, before we come to taste the sweetness of the sugar this place affords." next day very early they landed all their men, and being guided by the frenchman abovesaid, they marched towards the town, not by the common way, but crossing through the woods, which way the spaniards scarce thought they would have come; for at the beginning of their march they made as if they intended to come the next and open way to the town, hereby to deceive the spaniards: but these remembering full well what lolonois had done but two years before, thought it not safe to expect a second brunt, and hereupon all fled out of the town as fast as they could, carrying all their goods and riches, as also all the powder; and having nailed all the great guns, so as the pirates found not one person in the whole city, but one poor innocent man who was born a fool. this man they asked whither the inhabitants were fled, and where they had hid their goods. to all which questions and the like, he constantly answered, "i know nothing, i know nothing:" but they presently put him to the rack, and tortured him with cords; which torments forced him to cry out, "do not torture me any more, but come with me, and i will show you my goods and my riches." they were persuaded, it seems, he was some rich person disguised under those clothes so poor, and that innocent tongue; so they went along with him, and he conducted them to a poor miserable cottage, wherein he had a few earthen dishes and other things of no value, and three pieces of eight, concealed with some other trumpery underground. then they asked him his name, and he readily answered, "my name is don sebastian sanchez, and i am brother unto the governor of maracaibo." this foolish answer, it must be conceived, these inhuman wretches took for truth: for no sooner had they heard it, but they put him again upon the rack, lifting him up on high with cords, and tying huge weights to his feet and neck. besides which, they burnt him alive, applying palm-leaves burning to his face. [illustration: "'they hanged him on a tree'"--_page _] the same day they sent out a party to seek for the inhabitants, on whom they might exercise their cruelties. these brought back an honest peasant with two daughters of his, whom they intended to torture as they used others, if they showed not the places where the inhabitants were hid. the peasant knew some of those places, and seeing himself threatened with the rack, went with the pirates to show them; but the spaniards perceiving their enemies to range everywhere up and down the woods, were already fled thence farther off into the thickest of the woods, where they built themselves huts, to preserve from the weather those few goods they had. the pirates judged themselves deceived by the peasant, and hereupon, to revenge themselves, notwithstanding all his excuses and supplication, they hanged him on a tree. then they divided into parties to search the plantations; for they knew the spaniards that were absconded could not live on what the woods afforded, without coming now and then for provisions to their country houses. here they found a slave, to whom they promised mountains of gold and his liberty, by transporting him to jamaica, if he would show them where the inhabitants of gibraltar lay hid. this fellow conducted them to a party of spaniards, whom they instantly made prisoners, commanding this slave to kill some before the eyes of the rest; that by this perpetrated crime, he might never be able to leave their wicked company. the negro, according to their orders, committed many murders and insolencies upon the spaniards, and followed the unfortunate traces of the pirates; who eight days after returned to gibraltar with many prisoners, and some mules laden with riches. they examined every prisoner by himself (who were in all about two hundred and fifty persons), where they had hid the rest of their goods, and if they know of their fellow-townsmen. such as would not confess were tormented after a most inhuman manner. among the rest, there happened to be a portuguese, who by a negro was reported, though falsely, to be very rich; this man was commanded to produce his riches. his answer was, he had no more than one hundred pieces of eight in the world, and these had been stolen from him two days before by his servant; which words, though he sealed with many oaths and protestations, yet they would not believe him, but dragging him to the rack, without any regard to his age of sixty years, they stretched him with cords, breaking both his arms behind his shoulders. this cruelty went not alone; for he not being able or willing to make any other declaration, they put him to another sort of torment more barbarous; they tied him with small cords by his two thumbs and great toes to four stakes fixed in the ground, at a convenient distance, the whole weight of his body hanging on those cords. not satisfied yet with this cruel torture, they took a stone of above two hundred pounds, and laid it upon his belly, as if they intended to press him to death; they also kindled palm leaves, and applied the flame to the face of this unfortunate portuguese, burning with them the whole skin, beard, and hair. at last, seeing that neither with these tortures, nor others, they could get anything out of him, they untied the cords, and carried him half dead to the church, where was their corps du guard; here they tied him anew to one of the pillars thereof, leaving him in that condition, without giving him either to eat or drink, unless very sparingly, and so little that would scarce sustain life for some days; four or five being past, he desired one of the prisoners might come to him, by whose means he promised he would endeavour to raise some money to satisfy their demands. the prisoner whom he required was brought to him, and he ordered him to promise the pirate five hundred pieces of eight for his ransom; but they were deaf and obstinate at such a small sum, and instead of accepting it, beat him cruelly with cudgels, saying, "old fellow, instead of five hundred, you must say five hundred thousand pieces of eight; otherwise you shall here end your life." finally, after a thousand protestations that he was but a miserable man, and kept a poor tavern for his living, he agreed with them for one thousand pieces of eight. these he raised, and having paid them, got his liberty; though so horribly maimed, that it is scarce to be believed he could survive many weeks. others were crucified by these tyrants, and with kindled matches burnt between the joints of their fingers and toes: others had their feet put into the fire, and thus were left to be roasted alive. having used these and other cruelties with the white men, they began to practise the same with the negroes, their slaves, who were treated with no less inhumanity than their masters. among these slaves was one who promised captain morgan to conduct him to a river of the lake, where he should find a ship and four boats, richly laden with goods of the inhabitants of maracaibo: the same discovered likewise where the governor of gibraltar lay hid, with the greatest part of the women of the town; but all this he revealed, upon great menaces to hang him, if he told not what he knew. captain morgan sent away presently two hundred men in two settees, or great boats, to this river, to seek for what the slave had discovered; but he himself, with two hundred and fifty more, undertook to go and take the governor. this gentleman was retired to a small island in the middle of the river, where he had built a little fort, as well as he could, for his defence; but hearing that captain morgan came in person with great forces to seek him, he retired to the top of a mountain not far off, to which there was no ascent but by a very narrow passage, so straight, that whosoever did attempt to gain the ascent, must march his men one by one. captain morgan spent two days before he arrived at this little island, whence he designed to proceed to the mountain where the governor was posted, had he not been told of the impossibility of ascent, not only for the narrowness of the way, but because the governor was well provided with all sorts of ammunition: beside, there was fallen a huge rain, whereby all the pirates' baggage and powder was wet. by this rain, also, they lost many men at the passage over a river that was overflown: here perished, likewise, some women and children, and many mules laden with plate and goods, which they had taken from the fugitive inhabitants; so that things were in a very bad condition with captain morgan, and his men much harassed, as may be inferred from this relation: whereby, if the spaniards, in that juncture, had had but fifty men well armed, they might have entirely destroyed the pirates. but the fears the spaniards had at first conceived were so great, that the leaves stirring on the trees they often fancied to be pirates. finally, captain morgan and his people, having upon this march sometimes waded up to their middles in water for half, or whole miles together, they at last escaped, for the greatest part; but the women and children for the major part died. thus twelve days after they set forth to seek the governor they returned to gibraltar, with many prisoners: two days after arrived also the two settees that went to the river, bringing with them four boats, and some prisoners; but the greatest part of the merchandise in the said boats they found not, the spaniards having unladed and secured it, having intelligence of their coming; who designed also, when the merchandise was taken out, to burn the boats: yet the spaniards made not so much haste to unlade these vessels, but that they left in the ship and boats great parcels of goods, which the pirates seized, and brought a considerable booty to gibraltar. thus, after they had been in possession of the place five entire weeks, and committed an infinite number of murders, robberies, and such-like insolencies, they concluded to depart; but first they ordered some prisoners to go forth into the woods and fields, and collect a ransom for the town, otherwise they would certainly burn it down to the ground. these poor afflicted men went as they were sent, and having searched the adjoining fields and woods, returned to captain morgan, telling him they had scarce been able to find anybody, but that to such as they had found they had proposed his demands; to which they had answered, that the governor had prohibited them to give any ransom for the town, but they beseeched him to have a little patience, and among themselves they would collect five thousand pieces of eight; and for the rest, they would give some of their own townsmen as hostages, whom he might carry to maracaibo, till he had received full satisfaction. captain morgan having now been long absent from maracaibo, and knowing the spaniards had had sufficient time to fortify themselves, and hinder his departure out of the lake, granted their proposition, and made as much haste as he could for his departure: he gave liberty to all the prisoners, first putting every one to a ransom; yet he detained the slaves. they delivered him four persons agreed on for hostages of what money more he was to receive, and they desired to have the slave mentioned above, intending to punish him according to his deserts; but captain morgan would not deliver him, lest they should burn him alive. at last, they weighed anchor, and set sail in all haste for maracaibo: here they arrived in four days, and found all things as they had left them; yet here they received news from a poor distressed old man, whom alone they found sick in the town, that three spanish men-of-war were arrived at the entry of the lake, waiting the return of the pirates: moreover, that the castle at the entry thereof was again put into a good posture of defence, well provided with guns and men, and all sorts of ammunition. this relation could not choose but disturb the mind of captain morgan, who now was careful how to get away through the narrow entry of the lake: hereupon he sent his swiftest boat to view the entry, and see if things were as they had been related. next day the boat came back, confirming what was said; assuring him, they had viewed the ships so nigh, that they had been in great danger of their shot, hereunto they added, that the biggest ship was mounted with forty guns, the second with thirty, and the smallest with twenty-four. these forces being much beyond those of captain morgan, caused a general consternation in the pirates, whose biggest vessel had not above fourteen small guns. every one judged captain morgan to despond, and to be hopeless, considering the difficulty of passing safe with his little fleet amidst those great ships and the fort, or he must perish. how to escape any other way, by sea or land, they saw no way. under these necessities, captain morgan resumed new courage, and resolving to show himself still undaunted, he boldly sent a spaniard to the admiral of those three ships, demanding of him a considerable ransom for not putting the city of maracaibo to the flames. this man (who was received by the spaniards with great admiration of the boldness of those pirates) returned two days after, bringing to captain morgan a letter from the said admiral, as follows:-- _the letter of don alonso del campo y espinosa, admiral of the spanish fleet, to captain morgan, commander of the pirates._ "having understood by all our friends and neighbours, the unexpected news that you have dared to attempt and commit hostilities in the countries, cities, towns, and villages belonging to the dominions of his catholic majesty, my sovereign lord and master; i let you understand by these lines, that i am come to this place, according to my obligation, near that castle which you took out of the hands of a parcel of cowards; where i have put things into a very good posture of defence, and mounted again the artillery which you had nailed and dismounted. my intent is, to dispute with you your passage out of the lake, and follow and pursue you everywhere, to the end you may see the performance of my duty. notwithstanding, if you be contented to surrender with humility all that you have taken, together with the slaves and all other prisoners, i will let you freely pass, without trouble or molestation; on condition that you retire home presently to your own country. but if you make any resistance or opposition to what i offer you, i assure you i will command boats to come from caraccas, wherein i will put my troops, and coming to maracaibo, will put you every man to the sword. this is my last and absolute resolution. be prudent, therefore, and do not abuse my bounty with ingratitude. i have with me very good soldiers, who desire nothing more ardently than to revenge on you, and your people, all the cruelties, and base infamous actions, you have committed upon the spanish nation in america. dated on board the royal ship named the _magdalen_, lying at anchor at the entry of the lake of maracaibo, this th of april, . "don alonso del campo y espinosa." as soon as captain morgan received this letter, he called all his men together in the market-place of maracaibo, and after reading the contents thereof, both in french and english, asked their advice and resolution on the whole matter, and whether they had rather surrender all they had got to obtain their liberty, than fight for it. they answered all, unanimously, they had rather fight to the last drop of blood, than surrender so easily the booty they had got with so much danger of their lives. among the rest, one said to captain morgan, "take you care for the rest, and i will undertake to destroy the biggest of those ships with only twelve men: the manner shall be, by making a brulot, or fire-ship, of that vessel we took in the river of gibraltar; which, to the intent she may not be known for a fireship, we will fill her decks with logs of wood, standing with hats and montera caps, to deceive their sight with the representation of men. the same we will do at the port-holes that serve for the guns, which shall be filled with counterfeit cannon. at the stern we will hang out english colours, and persuade the enemy she is one of our best men-of-war going to fight them." this proposition was admitted and approved by every one; howbeit, their fears were not quite dispersed. for, notwithstanding what had been concluded there, they endeavoured the next day to come to an accommodation with don alonso. to this effect, captain morgan sent to him two persons, with these propositions: first, that he would quit maracaibo, without doing any damage to the town, or exacting any ransom for the firing thereof. secondly, that he would set at liberty one half of the slaves, and all the prisoners, without ransom. thirdly, that he would send home freely the four chief inhabitants of gibraltar, which he had in his custody as hostages for the contributions those people had promised to pay. these propositions were instantly rejected by don alonso, as dishonourable: neither would he hear of any other accommodation, but sent back this message: "that if they surrendered not themselves voluntarily into his hands, within two days, under the conditions which he had offered them by his letter, he would immediately come, and force them to do it." no sooner had captain morgan received this message from don alonso, than he put all things in order to fight, resolving to get out of the lake by main force, without surrendering anything. first, he commanded all the slaves and prisoners to be tied, and guarded very well, and gathered all the pitch, tar, and brimstone, they could find in the whole town, for the fire-ship above-mentioned; then they made several inventions of powder and brimstone with palm leaves, well annointed with tar. they covered very well their counterfeit cannon, laying under every piece many pounds of powder; besides, they cut down many outworks of the ship, that the powder might exert its strength the better; breaking open, also, new port-holes, where, instead of guns, they placed little drums used by the negroes. finally, the decks were handsomely beset with many pieces of wood, dressed up like men with hats, or monteras, and armed with swords, muskets, and bandeleers. the fire-ship being thus fitted, they prepared to go to the entry of the port. all the prisoners were put into one great boat, and in another of the biggest they placed all the women, plate, jewels, and other rich things: into others they put the bales of goods and merchandise, and other things of bulk: each of these boats had twelve men aboard, very well armed; the brulot had orders to go before the rest of the vessels, and presently to fall foul with the great ship. all things being ready, captain morgan exacted an oath of all his comrades, protesting to defend themselves to the last drop of blood, without demanding quarter; promising withal, that whosoever behaved himself thus, should be very well rewarded. with this courageous resolution they set sail to seek the spaniards. on april , , they found the spanish fleet riding at anchor in the middle of the entry of the lake. captain morgan, it being now late and almost dark, commanded all his vessels to an anchor, designing to fight even all night if they forced him to it. he ordered a careful watch to be kept aboard every vessel till morning, they being almost within shot, as well as within sight of the enemy. the day dawning, they weighed anchor, and sailed again, steering directly towards the spaniards; who seeing them move, did instantly the same. the fire-ship sailing before the rest fell presently upon the great ship, and grappled her; which the spaniards (too late) perceiving to be a fire-ship, they attempted to put her off, but in vain: for the flame seizing her timber and tackling, soon consumed all the stern, the fore part sinking into the sea, where she perished. the second spanish ship perceiving the admiral to burn, not by accident, but by industry of the enemy, escaped towards the castle, where the spaniards themselves sunk her, choosing to lose their ship rather than to fall into the hands of those pirates. the third, having no opportunity to escape, was taken by the pirates. the seamen that sunk the second ship near the castle, perceiving the pirates come towards them to take what remains they could find of their shipwreck (for some part was yet above water), set fire also to this vessel, that the pirates might enjoy nothing of that spoil. the first ship being set on fire, some of the persons in her swam towards the shore; these pirates would have taken up in their boats, but they would not ask or take quarter, choosing rather to lose their lives than receive them from their hands, for reasons which i shall relate. [illustration: "'the fire-ship, sailing before the rest, fell presently upon the great ship'"--_page _] the pirates being extremely glad at this signal victory so soon obtained, and with so great an inequality of forces, conceived greater pride than they had before, and all presently ran ashore, intending to take the castle. this they found well provided with men, cannon, and ammunition, they having no other arms than muskets, and a few hand granadoes: their own artillery they thought incapable, for its smallness, of making any considerable breach in the walls. thus they spent the rest of the day, firing at the garrison with their muskets, till the dusk of the evening, when they attempted to advance nearer the walls, to throw in their fire-balls: but the spaniards resolving to sell their lives as dear as they could, fired so furiously at them, that they having experimented the obstinacy of the enemy, and seeing thirty of their men dead, and as many more wounded, they retired to their ships. the spaniards believing the pirates would next day renew the attack with their own cannon, laboured hard all night to put things in order for their coming; particularly, they dug down, and made plain, some little hills and eminences, when possibly the castle might be offended. but captain morgan intended not to come again, busying himself next day in taking prisoners some of the men who still swam alive, hoping to get part of the riches lost in the two ships that perished. among the rest, he took a pilot, who was a stranger, and who belonged to the lesser ship of the two, of whom he inquired several things; as, what number of people those three ships had in them? whether they expected any more ships to come? from what port they set forth last, when they came to seek them out? he answered, in spanish, "noble sir, be pleased to pardon and spare me, that no evil be done to me, being a stranger to this nation i have served, and i shall sincerely inform you of all that passed till our arrival at this lake. we were sent by orders from the supreme council of state in spain, being six men-of-war well equipped, into these seas, with instructions to cruise upon the english pirates, and root them out from these parts by destroying as many of them as we could. "these orders were given, upon the news brought to the court of spain of the loss and ruin of puerto bello, and other places; of all which damages and hostilities committed here by the english, dismal lamentations have often been made to the catholic king and council, to whom belongs the care and preservation of this new world. and though the spanish court hath many times by their ambassadors complained hereof to the king of england; yet it hath been the constant answer of his majesty of great britain, that he never gave any letters patent, nor commissions, for acting any hostility against the subjects of the king of spain. hereupon the catholic king resolved to revenge his subjects, and punish these proceedings: commanded six men-of-war to be equipped, which he sent under the command of don augustine de bustos, admiral of the said fleet. he commanded the biggest ship, named _n. s. de la soleda_, of forty-eight great guns, and eight small ones. the vice-admiral was don alonso del campo y espinosa, who commanded the second ship called _la conception_, of forty-four great guns, and eight small ones; besides four vessels more, whereof the first was named the _magdalen_, of thirty-six great guns, and twelve small ones, with two hundred and fifty men. the second was called _st. lewis_, with twenty-six great guns, twelve small ones, and two hundred men. the third was called _la marquesa_, of sixteen great guns, eight small ones, and one hundred and fifty men. the fourth and last, _n. s. del carmen_, with eighteen great guns, eight small ones, and one hundred and fifty men. "being arrived at carthagena, the two greatest ships received orders to return to spain, being judged too big for cruising on these coasts. with the four ships remaining, don alonso del campo y espinosa departed towards campechy to seek the english: we arrived at the port there, where, being surprised by a huge storm from the north, we lost one of our ships, being that which i named last. hence we sailed for hispaniola, in sight of which we came in a few days, and steered for santo domingo: here we heard that there had passed that way a fleet from jamaica, and that some men thereof had landed at alta gracia; the inhabitants had taken one prisoner, who confessed their design was to go and pillage the city of caraccas. on this news, don alonso instantly weighed anchor, and, crossing over to the continent, we came in sight of the caraccas: here we found them not, but met with a boat, which certified us they were in the lake of maracaibo, and that the fleet consisted of seven small ships, and one boat. "upon this we came here, and arriving at the entry of the lake, we shot off a gun for a pilot from the shore. those on land perceiving we were spaniards, came willingly to us with a pilot, and told us the english had taken maracaibo, and that they were now at the pillage of gibraltar. don alonso, on this news, made a handsome speech to his soldiers and mariners, encouraging them to their duty, and promising to divide among them all they should take from the english: he ordered the guns we had taken out of the ship that was lost to be put into the castle, and mounted for its defence, with two eighteen-pounders more, out of his own ship. the pilots conducted us into the port, and don alonso commanded the people on shore to come before him, whom he ordered to repossess the castle, and reinforce it with one hundred men more than it had before its being taken. soon after, we heard of your return from gibraltar to maracaibo, whither don alonso wrote you a letter, giving you an account of his arrival and design, and exhorting you to restore what you had taken. this you refusing, he renewed his promises to his soldiers and seamen, and having given a very good supper to all his people, he ordered them not to take or give any quarter, which was the occasion of so many being drowned, who dared not to crave quarter, knowing themselves must give none. two days before you came against us, a negro came aboard don alonso's ship, telling him, 'sir, be pleased to have great care of yourself; for the english have prepared a fire-ship, with design to burn your fleet.' but don alonso not believing this, answered, 'how can that be? have they, peradventure, wit enough to build a fire-ship? or what instruments have they to do it withal?'" this pilot having related so distinctly these things to captain morgan, was very well used by him, and, after some kind proffers made to him, remained in his service. he told captain morgan, that, in the ship which was sunk, there was a great quantity of plate, to the value of forty thousand pieces of eight; which occasioned the spaniards to be often seen in boats about it. hereupon, captain morgan ordered one of his ships to remain there, to find ways of getting out of it what plate they could; meanwhile, himself, with all his fleet, returned to maracaibo, where he refitted the great ship he had taken, and chose it for himself, giving his own bottom to one of his captains. then he sent again a messenger to the admiral, who was escaped ashore, and got into the castle, demanding of him a ransom of fire for maracaibo; which being denied, he threatened entirely to consume and destroy it. the spaniards considering the ill-luck they had all along with those pirates, and not knowing how to get rid of them, concluded to pay the said ransom, though don alonso would not consent. hereupon, they sent to captain morgan, to know what sum he demanded. he answered, that on payment of , pieces of eight, and five hundred beeves, he would release the prisoners and do no damage to the town. at last they agreed on , pieces of eight, and five hundred beeves to victual his fleet. the cattle were brought the next day, with one part of the money; and, while the pirates were busied in salting the flesh, they made up the whole , pieces of eight, as was agreed. but captain morgan would not presently deliver the prisoners, as he had promised, fearing the shot of the castle at his going forth out of the lake. hereupon he told them he intended not to deliver them till he was out of that danger, hoping thus to obtain a free passage. then he set sail with his fleet in quest of the ship he had left, to seek for the plate of the vessel that was burnt. he found her on the place, with , pieces of eight got out of the work, beside many pieces of plate, as hilts of swords, and the like; also a great quantity of pieces of eight melted and run together, by the force of the fire. captain morgan scarce thought himself secure, nor could he contrive how to avoid the shot of the castle: hereupon he wished the prisoners to agree with the governor to permit a safe passage to his fleet, which, if he should not allow, he would certainly hang them all up in his ships. upon this the prisoners met, and appointed some of their fellow-messengers to go to the said governor, don alonso: these went to him, beseeching and supplicating him to have compassion on those afflicted prisoners, who were, with their wives and children, in the hands of captain morgan; and that to this effect he would be pleased to give his word to let the fleet of pirates freely pass, this being the only way to save both the lives of them that came with this petition, as also of those who remained in captivity; all being equally menaced with the sword and gallows, if he granted them not this humble request. but don alonso gave them for answer a sharp reprehension of their cowardice, telling them, "if you had been as loyal to your king in hindering the entry of these pirates, as i shall do their going out, you had never caused these troubles, neither to yourselves nor to our whole nation, which hath suffered so much through your pusillanimity. in a word, i shall never grant your request, but shall endeavour to maintain that respect which is due to my king, according to my duty." [illustration: "morgan dividing the treasure taken at maracaibo"--_page _] thus the spaniards returned with much consternation, and no hopes of obtaining their request, telling captain morgan what answer they had received: his reply was, "if don alonso will not let me pass, i will find means how to do it without him." hereupon he presently made a dividend of all they had taken, fearing he might not have an opportunity to do it in another place, if any tempest should rise and separate the ships, as also being jealous that any of the commanders might run away with the best part of the spoil, which then lay much more in one vessel than another. thus they all brought in according to their laws, and declared what they had, first making oath not to conceal the least thing. the accounts being cast up, they found to the value of , pieces of eight, in money and jewels, beside the huge quantity of merchandise and slaves, all which purchase was divided to every ship or boat, according to her share. the dividend being made, the question still remained how they should pass the castle, and get out of the lake. to this effect they made use of a stratagem, as follows: the day before the night wherein they determined to get forth, they embarked many of their men in canoes, and rowed towards the shore, as if they designed to land: here they hid themselves under branches of trees that hang over the coast awhile, laying themselves down in the boats; then the canoes returned to the ships, with the appearance of only two or three men rowing them back, the rest being unseen at the bottom of the canoes: thus much only could be perceived from the castle, and this false landing of men, for so we may call it, was repeated that day several times: this made the spaniards think the pirates intended at night to force the castle by scaling it. this fear caused them to place most of their great guns on the land side, together with their main force, leaving the side towards the sea almost destitute of defence. night being come, they weighed anchor, and by moonlight, without setting sail, committed themselves to the ebbing tide, which gently brought them down the river, till they were near the castle; being almost over against it, they spread their sails with all possible haste. the spaniards perceiving this, transported with all speed their guns from the other side, and began to fire very furiously at them; but these having a very favourable wind, were almost past danger before those of the castle could hurt them; so that they lost few of their men, and received no considerable damage in their ships. being out of the reach of the guns, captain morgan sent a canoe to the castle with some of the prisoners, and the governor thereof gave them a boat to return to their own homes; but he detained the hostages from gibraltar, because the rest of the ransom for not firing the place was yet unpaid. just as he departed, captain morgan ordered seven great guns with bullets to be fired against the castle, as it were to take his leave of them, but they answered not so much as with a musket shot. next day after, they were surprised with a great tempest, which forced them to cast anchor in five or six fathom water: but the storm increasing, compelled them to weigh again, and put to sea, where they were in great danger of being lost; for if they should have been cast on shore, either into the hands of the spaniards or indians, they would certainly have obtained no mercy: at last, the tempest being spent, the wind ceased, to the great joy of the whole fleet. while captain morgan made his fortune by these pillagings, his companions, who were separated from his fleet at the cape de lobos, to take the ship spoken of before, endured much misery, and were unfortunate in all their attempts. being arrived at savona, they found not captain morgan there, nor any of their companions, nor had they the fortune to find a letter which captain morgan at his departure left behind him in a place where in all probability they would meet with it. thus, not knowing what course to steer, they concluded to pillage some town or other. they were in all about four hundred men, divided into four ships and one boat: being ready to set forth, they constituted an admiral among themselves, being one who had behaved himself very courageously at the taking of puerto bello, named captain hansel. this commander attempted the taking of the town of commana, on the continent of caraccas, nigh sixty leagues to the west of the isle de la trinidad. being arrived there, they landed their men, and killed some few indians near the coast; but approaching the town, the spaniards having in their company many indians, disputed the entry so briskly, that, with great loss and confusion, they were forced to retire to the ships. at last they arrived at jamaica, where the rest of their companions, who came with captain morgan, mocked and jeered them for their ill success at commana, often telling them, "let us see what money you brought from commana, and if it be as good silver as that which we bring from maracaibo." chapter xiii _captain morgan goes to hispaniola to equip a new fleet, with intent to pillage again on the coast of the west indies._ captain morgan perceived now that fortune favoured him, by giving success to all his enterprises, which occasioned him, as is usual in human affairs, to aspire to greater things, trusting she would always be constant to him. such was the burning of panama, wherein fortune failed not to assist him, as she had done before, though she had led him thereto through a thousand difficulties. the history hereof i shall now relate, being so remarkable in all its circumstances, as peradventure nothing more deserving memory will be read by future ages. captain morgan arriving at jamaica, found many of his officers and soldiers reduced to their former indigency, by their vices and debaucheries. hence they perpetually importuned him for new exploits. captain morgan, willing to follow fortune's call, stopped the mouths of many inhabitants of jamaica, who were creditors to his men for large sums, with the hopes and promises of greater achievements than ever, by a new expedition. this done, he could easily levy men for any enterprise, his name being so famous through all those islands as that alone would readily bring him in more men than he could well employ. he undertook therefore to equip a new fleet, for which he assigned the south side of tortuga as a place of rendezvous, writing letters to all the expert pirates there inhabiting, as also to the governor, and to the planters and hunters of hispaniola, informing them of his intentions, and desiring their appearance, if they intended to go with him. these people upon this notice flocked to the place assigned, in huge numbers, with ships, canoes, and boats, being desirous to follow him. many, who had not the convenience of coming by sea, traversed the woods of hispaniola, and with no small difficulties arrived there by land. thus all were present at the place assigned, and ready against october , . captain morgan was not wanting to be there punctually, coming in his ship to port couillon, over against the island de la vaca, the place assigned. having gathered the greatest part of his fleet, he called a council to deliberate about finding provisions for so many people. here they concluded to send four ships and one boat, with four hundred men, to the continent, in order to rifle some country towns and villages for all the corn or maize they could gather. they set sail for the continent towards the river de la hacha, designing to assault the village called la rancheria, usually best stored with maize of all the parts thereabouts. meanwhile captain morgan sent another party to hunt in the woods, who killed a huge number of beasts, and salted them: the rest remained in the ships, to clean, fit, and rig them, that, at the return of their fellows, all things might be in a readiness to weigh anchor and follow their designs. chapter xiv _what happened in the river de la hacha._ these four ships setting sail from hispaniola, steered for the river de la hacha, where they were suddenly overtaken with a tedious calm. being within sight of land becalmed for some days, the spaniards inhabiting along the coast, who had perceived them to be enemies, had sufficient time to prepare themselves, at least to hide the best of their goods, that, without any care of preserving them, they might be ready to retire, if they proved unable to resist the pirates, by whose frequent attempts on those coasts they had already learned what to do in such cases. there was then in the river a good ship, come from carthagena to lade with maize, and now almost ready to depart. the men of this ship endeavoured to escape; but, not being able to do it, both they and the vessel fell into their hands. this was a fit purchase for them, being good part of what they came for. next morning, about break of day, they came with their ships ashore, and landed their men, though the spaniards made good resistance from a battery they had raised on that side, where, of necessity, they were to land; but they were forced to retire to a village, whither the pirates followed them. here the spaniards rallying, fell upon them with great fury, and maintained a strong combat, which lasted till night; but then, perceiving they had lost a great number of men, which was no less on the pirates' side, they retired to secret places in the woods. next day the pirates seeing them all fled, and the town left empty of people, they pursued them as far as they could, and overtook a party of spaniards, whom they made prisoners, and exercised with most cruel torments, to discover their goods. some were forced, by intolerable tortures, to confess; but others, who would not, were used more barbarously. thus, in fifteen days that they remained there, they took many prisoners, much plate and movables, with which booty they resolved to return to hispaniola: yet, not content with what they had got, they dispatched some prisoners into the woods to seek for the rest of the inhabitants, and to demand a ransom for not burning the town. they answered, they had no money nor plate; but if they would be satisfied with a quantity of maize, they would give as much as they could. the pirates accepted this, it being then more useful to them than ready money, and agreed they should pay four thousand hanegs, or bushels of maize. these were brought in three days after, the spaniards being desirous to rid themselves of that inhuman sort of people. having laded them on board with the rest of their purchase, they returned to hispaniola, to give account to their leader, captain morgan, of all they had performed. they had now been absent five weeks on this commission, which long delay occasioned captain morgan almost in despair of their return, fearing lest they were fallen in to the hands of the spaniards; especially considering the place whereto they went could easily be relieved from carthagena and santa maria, if the inhabitants were careful to alarm the country. on the other side, he feared lest they should have made some great fortune in that voyage, and with it have escaped to some other place. but seeing his ships return in greater numbers than they departed, he resumed new courage, this sight causing both in him and his companions infinite joy, especially when they found them full laden with maize, which they much wanted for the maintenance of so many people, from whom they expected great matters under such a commander. captain morgan having divided the said maize, as also the flesh which the hunters brought, among his ships, according to the number of men, he concluded to depart; having viewed beforehand every ship, and observed their being well equipped and clean. thus he set sail, and stood for cape tiburon, where he determined to resolve what enterprise he should take in hand. no sooner were they arrived, but they met some other ships newly come to join them from jamaica; so that now their fleet consisted of thirty-seven ships, wherein were two thousand fighting men, beside mariners and boys. the admiral hereof was mounted with twenty-two great guns, and six small ones of brass; the rest carried some twenty; some sixteen, some eighteen, and the smallest vessel at least four; besides which, they had great quantities of ammunition and fire-balls, with other inventions of powder. captain morgan having such a number of ships, divided the whole fleet into two squadrons, constituting a vice-admiral, and other officers of the second squadron, distinct from the former. to these he gave letters patent, or commissions to act all manner of hostilities against the spanish nation, and take of them what ships they could, either abroad at sea, or in the harbours, as if they were open and declared enemies (as he termed it) of the king of england, his pretended master. this done, he called all his captains and other officers together, and caused them to sign some articles of agreement betwixt them, and in the name of all. herein it was stipulated, that he should have the hundredth part of all that was gotten to himself: that every captain should draw the shares of eight men for the expenses of his ship, besides his own. to the surgeon, beside his pay, two hundred pieces of eight for his chest of medicaments. to every carpenter, above his salary, one hundred pieces of eight. the rewards were settled in this voyage much higher than before: as, for the loss of both legs, fifteen hundred pieces of eight, or fifteen slaves, the choice left to the party, for the loss of both hands, eighteen hundred pieces of eight, or eighteen slaves: for one leg, whether right or left, six hundred pieces of eight, or six slaves: for a hand, as much as for a leg; and for the loss of an eye, one hundred pieces of eight, or one slave. lastly, to him that in any battle should signalize himself, either by entering first any castle, or taking down the spanish colours, and setting up the english, they allotted fifty pieces of eight for a reward. all which extraordinary salaries and rewards to be paid out of the first spoil they should take, as every one should occur to be either rewarded or paid. this contract being signed, captain morgan commanded his vice-admirals and captains to put all things in order, to attempt one of these three places; either carthagena, panama, or vera cruz. but the lot fell on panama, as the richest of all three; though this city being situate at such a distance from the north sea as they knew not well the approaches to it, they judged it necessary to go beforehand to the isle of st. catherine, there to find some persons for guides in this enterprise; for in the garrison there are commonly many banditti and outlaws belonging to panama and the neighbouring places, who are very expert in the knowledge of that country. but before they proceeded, they published an act through the whole fleet, promising, if they met with any spanish vessel, the first captain who should take it should have for his reward the tenth part of what should be found in her. chapter xv _captain morgan leaves hispaniola and goes to st. catherine's, which he takes._ captain morgan and his companions weighed anchor from the cape of tiburon, december , . four days after they arrived in sight of st. catherine's, now in possession of the spaniards again, as was said before, to which they commonly banish the malefactors of the spanish dominions in the west indies. here are huge quantities of pigeons at certain seasons. it is watered by four rivulets, whereof two are always dry in summer. here is no trade or commerce exercised by the inhabitants; neither do they plant more fruits than what are necessary for human life, though the country would make very good plantations of tobacco of considerable profit, were it cultivated. as soon as captain morgan came near the island with his fleet, he sent one of his best sailing vessels to view the entry of the river, and see if any other ships were there, who might hinder him from landing; as also fearing lest they should give intelligence of his arrival to the inhabitants, and prevent his designs. next day, before sunrise, all the fleet anchored near the island, in a bay called aguade grande. on this bay the spaniards had built a battery, mounted with four pieces of cannon. captain morgan landed about one thousand men in divers squadrons, marching through the woods, though they had no other guides than a few of his own men, who had been there before, under mansvelt. the same day they came to a place where the governor sometimes resided: here they found a battery called the platform, but nobody in it, the spaniards having retired to the lesser island, which, as was said before, is so near the great one, that a short bridge only may conjoin them. this lesser island was so well fortified with forts and batteries round it, as might seem impregnable. hereupon, as soon as the spaniards perceived the pirates approach, they fired on them so furiously, that they could advance nothing that day, but were content to retreat, and take up their rest in the open fields, which was not strange to these people, being sufficiently used to such kind of repose. what most afflicted them was hunger, having not eat anything that whole day. about midnight it rained so hard, that they had much ado to bear it, the greatest part of them having no other clothes than a pair of seaman's trousers or breeches, and a shirt, without shoes or stockings. in this great extremity they pulled down a few thatched houses to make fires withal; in a word, they were in such a condition, that one hundred men, indifferently well armed, might easily that night have torn them all in pieces. next morning, about break of day, the rain ceased, and they dried their arms and marched on: but soon after it rained afresh, rather harder than before, as if the skies were melted into waters; which kept them from advancing towards the forts, whence the spaniards continually fired at them. the pirates were now reduced to great affliction and danger, through the hardness of the weather, their own nakedness, and great hunger; for a small relief hereof, they found in the fields an old horse, lean, and full of scabs and blotches, with galled back and sides: this they instantly killed and flayed, and divided in small pieces among themselves, as far as it would reach (for many could not get a morsel) which they roasted and devoured without salt or bread, more like ravenous wolves than men. the rain not ceasing, captain morgan perceived their minds to relent, hearing many of them say they would return on board. among these fatigues of mind and body, he thought convenient to use some sudden remedy: to this effect, he commanded a canoe to be rigged in haste, and colours of truce to be hanged out. this canoe he sent to the spanish governor, with this message: "that if within a few hours he delivered not himself and all his men into his hands, he did by that messenger swear to him, and all those that were in his company, he would most certainly put them to the sword, without granting quarter to any." in the afternoon the canoe returned with this answer: "that the governor desired two hours' time to deliberate with his officers about it, which being past, he would give his positive answer." the time being elapsed, the governor sent two canoes with white colours, and two persons to treat with captain morgan; but, before they landed, they demanded of the pirates two persons as hostages. these were readily granted by captain morgan, who delivered them two of the captains for a pledge of the security required. with this the spaniards propounded to captain morgan, that the governor, in a full assembly, had resolved to deliver up the island, not being provided with sufficient forces to defend it against such an armada. but withal, he desired captain morgan would be pleased to use a certain stratagem of war, for the better saving of his own credit, and the reputation of his officers both abroad and at home, which should be as follows:--that captain morgan would come with his troops by night to the bridge that joined the lesser island to the great one, and there attack the fort of st. jerome: that at the same time all his fleet would draw near the castle of santa teresa, and attack it by land, landing, in the meanwhile, more troops near the battery of st. matthew: that these troops being newly landed, should by this means intercept the governor as he endeavoured to pass to st. jerome's fort, and then take him prisoner; using the formality, as if they forced him to deliver the castle; and that he would lead the english into it, under colour of being his own troops. that on both sides there should be continual firing, but without bullets, or at least into the air, so that no side might be hurt. that thus having obtained two such considerable forts, the chiefest of the isle, he need not take care for the rest, which must fall of course into his hands. these propositions were granted by captain morgan, on condition they should see them faithfully observed; otherwise they should be used with the utmost rigour: this they promised to do, and took their leave, to give account of their negotiation to the governor. presently after, captain morgan commanded the whole fleet to enter the port, and his men to be ready to assault, that night, the castle of st. jerome. thus the false battle began, with incessant firing from both the castles, against the ships, but without bullets, as was agreed. then the pirates landed, and assaulted by night the lesser island, which they took, as also both fortresses; forcing the spaniards, in appearance, to fly to the church. before this assault, captain morgan sent word to the governor, that he should keep all his men together in a body; otherwise, if the pirates met any straggling spaniards in the streets, they should certainly shoot them. this island being taken by this unusual stratagem, and all things put in order, the pirates made a new war against the poultry, cattle, and all sorts of victuals they could find, for some days; scarce thinking of anything else than to kill, roast, and eat, and make what good cheer they could. if wood was wanting, they pulled down the houses, and made fires with the timber, as had been done before in the field. next day they numbered all the prisoners they had taken upon the island, which were found to be in all four hundred and fifty-nine persons, men, women, and children; viz., one hundred and ninety soldiers of the garrison; forty inhabitants, who were married: forty-three children, thirty-four slaves, belonging to the king; with eight children, eight banditti, thirty-nine negroes belonging to private persons; with twenty-seven female blacks, and thirty-four children. the pirates disarmed all the spaniards, and sent them out immediately to the plantations to seek for provisions, leaving the women in the church to exercise their devotions. soon after they reviewed the whole island, and all the fortresses thereof, which they found to be nine in all, viz., the fort of st. jerome, next the bridge, had eight great guns, of twelve, six, and eight pounds carriage; with six pipes of muskets, every pipe containing ten muskets. here they found still sixty muskets, with sufficient powder and other ammunition. the second fortress, called st. matthew, had three guns, of eight pounds each. the third, and chiefest, named santa teresa, had twenty great guns, of eighteen, twelve, eight, and six pounds; with ten pipes of muskets, like those before, and ninety muskets remaining, besides other ammunition. this castle was built with stone and mortar, with very thick walls, and a large ditch round it, twenty feet deep, which, though it was dry, yet was very hard to get over. here was no entry, but through one door, to the middle of the castle. within it was a mount, almost inaccessible, with four pieces of cannon at the top; whence they could shoot directly into the port. on the sea side it was impregnable, by reason of the rocks round it, and the sea beating furiously upon them. to the land it was so commodiously seated on a mountain, as there was no access to it but by a path three or four feet broad. the fourth fortress was named st. augustine, having three guns of eight and six pounds. the fifth, named la plattaforma de la conception, had only two guns, of eight pounds. the sixth, by name san salvador, had likewise no more than two guns. the seventh, called plattaforma de los artilleros, had also two guns. the eighth, called santa cruz, had three guns. the ninth, called st. joseph's fort, had six guns, of twelve and eight pounds, besides two pipes of muskets, and sufficient ammunition. in the storehouses were above thirty thousand pounds of powder, with all other ammunition, which was carried by the pirates on board. all the guns were stopped and nailed, and the fortresses demolished, except that of st. jerome, where the pirates kept guard and resistance. captain morgan inquired for any banditti from panama or puerto bello, and three were brought him, who pretended to be very expert in the avenues of those parts. he asked them to be his guides, and show him the securest ways to panama, which, if they performed, he promised them equal shares in the plunder of that expedition, and their liberty when they arrived in jamaica. these propositions the banditti readily accepted, promising to serve him very faithfully, especially one of the three, who was the greatest rogue, thief, and assassin among them, who had deserved rather to be broken alive on the wheel, than punished with serving in a garrison. this wicked fellow had a great ascendant over the other two, and domineered over them as he pleased, they not daring to disobey his orders. captain morgan commanded four ships and one boat to be equipped, and provided with necessaries, to go and take the castle of chagre, on the river of that name; neither would he go himself with his whole fleet, lest the spaniards should be jealous of his farther design on panama. in these vessels he embarked four hundred men, to put in execution these his orders. meanwhile, himself remained in st. catherine's with the rest of the fleet, expecting to hear of their success. chapter xvi _captain morgan takes the castle of chagre, with four hundred men sent to this purpose from st. catherine's._ captain morgan sending this little fleet to chagre, chose for vice-admiral thereof one captain brodely, who had been long in those quarters, and committed many robberies on the spaniards, when mansvelt took the isle of st. catherine, as was before related; and therefore was thought a fit person for this exploit, his actions likewise having rendered him famous among the pirates, and their enemies the spaniards. captain brodely being made commander, in three days after his departure arrived in sight of the said castle of chagre, by the spaniards called st. lawrence. this castle is built on a high mountain, at the entry of the river, surrounded by strong palisades, or wooden walls, filled with earth, which secures them as well as the best wall of stone or brick. the top of this mountain is, in a manner, divided into two parts, between which is a ditch thirty feet deep. the castle hath but one entry, and that by a drawbridge over this ditch. to the land it has four bastions, and to the sea two more. the south part is totally inaccessible, through the cragginess of the mountain. the north is surrounded by the river, which here is very broad. at the foot of the castle, or rather mountain, is a strong fort, with eight great guns, commanding the entry of the river. not much lower are two other batteries, each of six pieces, to defend likewise the mouth of the river. at one side of the castle are two great storehouses of all sorts of warlike ammunition and merchandise, brought thither from the island country. near these houses is a high pair of stairs hewn out of the rock, to mount to the top of the castle. on the west is a small port, not above seven or eight fathoms deep, fit for small vessels, and of very good anchorage; besides, before the castle, at the entry of the river, is a great rock, scarce to be described but at low tides. no sooner had the spaniards perceived the pirates, but they fired incessantly at them with the biggest of their guns. they came to an anchor in a small port, about a league from the castle. next morning, very early, they went ashore, and marched through the woods, to attack the castle on that side. this march lasted till two of the clock in the afternoon, before they could reach the castle, by reason of the difficulties of the way, and its mire and dirt; and though their guides served them very exactly, yet they came so nigh the castle at first, that they lost many of their men by its shot, they being in an open place without covert. this much perplexed the pirates, not knowing what course to take; for on that side, of necessity, they must make the assault: and being uncovered from head to foot, they could not advance one step without danger: besides that, the castle, both for its situation and strength, made them much doubt of success. but to give it over they dared not, lest they should be reproached by their companions. at last, after many doubts and disputes, resolving to hazard the assault and their lives desperately, they advanced towards the castle with their swords in one hand, and fire-balls in the other. the spaniards defended themselves very briskly, ceasing not to fire at them continually; crying withal, "come on, ye english dogs! enemies to god and our king; and let your other companions that are behind come on too, ye shall not go to panama this bout." the pirates making some trial to climb the walls, were forced to retreat, resting themselves till night. this being come, they returned to the assault, to try, by the help of their fire-balls, to destroy the pales before the wall; and while they were about it, there happened a very remarkable accident, which occasioned their victory. one of the pirates being wounded with an arrow in his back, which pierced his body through, he pulled it out boldly at the side of his breast, and winding a little cotton about it, he put it into his musket, and shot it back to the castle; but the cotton being kindled by the powder, fired two or three houses in the castle, being thatched with palm-leaves, which the spaniards perceived not so soon as was necessary; for this fire meeting with a parcel of powder, blew it up, thereby causing great ruin, and no less consternation to the spaniards, who were not able to put a stop to it, not having seen it time enough. the pirates perceiving the effect of the arrow, and the misfortunes of the spaniards, were infinitely glad; and while they were busied in quenching the fire, which caused a great confusion for want of water, the pirates took this opportunity, setting fire likewise to the palisades. the fire thus seen at once in several parts about the castle, gave them great advantage against the spaniards, many breaches being made by the fire among the pales, great heaps of earth falling into the ditch. then the pirates climbing up, got over into the castle, though those spaniards, who were not busy about the fire, cast down many flaming pots full of combustible matter, and odious smells, which destroyed many of the english. the spaniards, with all their resistance, could not hinder the palisades from being burnt down before midnight. meanwhile the pirates continued in their intention of taking the castle; and though the fire was very great, they would creep on the ground, as near as they could, and shoot amidst the flames against the spaniards on the other side, and thus killed many from the walls. when day was come, they observed all the movable earth, that lay betwixt the pales, to be fallen into the ditch; so that now those within the castle lay equally exposed to them without, as had been on the contrary before; whereupon the pirates continued shooting very furiously, and killed many spaniards; for the governor had charged them to make good those posts, answering to the heaps of earth fallen into the ditch, and caused the artillery to be transported to the breaches. the fire within the castle still continuing, the pirates from abroad did what they could to hinder its progress, by shooting incessantly against it; one party of them was employed only for this, while another watched all the motions of the spaniards. about noon the english gained a breach, which the governor himself defended with twenty-five soldiers. here was made a very courageous resistance by the spaniards, with muskets, pikes, stones, and swords; but through all these the pirates fought their way, till they gained the castle. the spaniards, who remained alive, cast themselves down from the castle into the sea, choosing rather to die thus (few or none surviving the fall) than to ask quarter for their lives. the governor himself retreated to the corps du gard, before which were placed two pieces of cannon: here he still defended himself, not demanding any quarter, till he was killed with a musket-shot in the head. the governor being dead, and the corps du gard surrendering, they found remaining in it alive thirty men, whereof scarce ten were not wounded: these informed the pirates that eight or nine of their soldiers had deserted, and were gone to panama, to carry news of their arrival and invasion. these thirty men alone remained of three hundred and fourteen wherewith the castle was garrisoned, among which not one officer was found alive. these were all made prisoners, and compelled to tell whatever they knew of their designs and enterprises. among other things, that the governor of panama had notice sent him three weeks ago from carthagena, that the english were equipping a fleet at hispaniola, with a design to take panama; and, beside, that this had been discovered by a deserter from the pirates at the river de la hacha, where they had victualled. that upon this, the governor had sent one hundred and sixty-four men to strengthen the garrison of that castle, with much provision and ammunition; the ordinary garrison whereof was only one hundred and fifty men, but these made up two hundred and fourteen men, very well armed. besides this, they declared that the governor of panama had placed several ambuscades along the river of chagre; and that he waited for them in the open fields of panama with three thousand six hundred men. the taking of this castle cost the pirates excessively dear, in comparison to what they were wont to lose, and their toil and labour was greater than at the conquest of the isle of st. catherine; for, numbering their men, they had lost above a hundred, beside seventy wounded. they commanded the spanish prisoners to cast the dead bodies of their own men from the top of the mountain to the seaside, and to bury them. the wounded were carried to the church, of which they made an hospital, and where also they shut up the women. captain morgan remained not long behind at st. catherine's, after taking the castle of chagre, of which he had notice presently; but before he departed, he embarked all the provisions that could be found, with much maize, or indian wheat, and cazave, whereof also is made bread in those ports. he transported great store of provisions to the garrison of chagre, whencesoever they could be got. at a certain place they cast into the sea all the guns belonging thereto, designing to return, and leave that island well garrisoned, to the perpetual possession of the pirates; but he ordered all the houses and forts to be fired, except the castle of st. teresa, which he judged to be the strongest and securest wherein to fortify himself at his return from panama. having completed his arrangements, he took with him all the prisoners of the island, and then sailed for chagre, where he arrived in eight days. here the joy of the whole fleet was so great, when they spied the english colours on the castle, that they minded not their way into the river, so that they lost four ships at the entry thereof, captain morgan's being one; yet they saved all the men and goods. the ships, too, had been preserved, if a strong northerly wind had not risen, which cast them on the rock at the entry of the river. captain morgan was brought into the castle with great acclamations of all the pirates, both of those within, and those newly come. having heard the manner of the conquest, he commanded all the prisoners to work, and repair what was necessary, especially to set up new palisades round the forts of the castle. there were still in the river some spanish vessels, called chatten, serving for transportation of merchandise up and down the river, and to go to puerto bello and nicaragua. these commonly carry two great guns of iron, and four small ones of brass. these vessels they seized, with four little ships they found there, and all the canoes. in the castle they left a garrison of five hundred men, and in the ships in the river one hundred and fifty more. this done, captain morgan departed for panama at the head of twelve hundred men. he carried little provisions with him, hoping to provide himself sufficiently among the spaniards, whom he knew to lie in ambuscade by the way. chapter xvii _captain morgan departs from chagre, at the head of twelve hundred men, to take the city of panama._ captain morgan set forth from the castle of chagre, towards panama, august , . he had with him twelve hundred men, five boats laden with artillery, and thirty-two canoes. the first day they sailed only six leagues, and came to a place called de los bracos. here a party of his men went ashore, only to sleep and stretch their limbs, being almost crippled with lying too much crowded in the boats. having rested awhile, they went abroad to seek victuals in the neighbouring plantations; but they could find none, the spaniards being fled, and carrying with them all they had. this day, being the first of their journey, they had such scarcity of victuals, as the greatest part were forced to pass with only a pipe of tobacco, without any other refreshment. next day, about evening, they came to a place called cruz de juan gallego. here they were compelled to leave their boats and canoes, the river being very dry for want of rain, and many trees having fallen into it. the guides told them, that, about two leagues farther, the country would be very good to continue the journey by land. hereupon they left one hundred and sixty men on board the boats, to defend them, that they might serve for a refuge in necessity. next morning, being the third day, they all went ashore, except those who were to keep the boats. to these captain morgan gave order, under great penalties, that no man, on any pretext whatever, should dare to leave the boats, and go ashore; fearing lest they should be surprised by an ambuscade of spaniards in the neighbouring woods, which appeared so thick as to seem almost impenetrable. this morning beginning their march, the ways proved so bad, that captain morgan thought it more convenient to transport some of the men in canoes (though with great labour) to a place farther up the river, called cedro bueno. thus they re-embarked, and the canoes returned for the rest; so that about night they got altogether at the said place. the pirates much desired to meet some spaniards or indians, hoping to fill their bellies with their provisions, being reduced to extremity and hunger. the fourth day the greatest part of the pirates marched by land, being led by one of the guides; the rest went by water farther up, being conducted by another guide, who always went before them, to discover, on both sides the river, the ambuscades. these had also spies, who were very dextrous to give notice of all accidents, or of the arrival of the pirates, six hours, at least, before they came. this day, about noon, they came near a post called torna cavallos: here the guide of the canoes cried out, that he perceived an ambuscade. his voice caused infinite joy to all the pirates, hoping to find some provisions to satiate their extreme hunger. being come to the place, they found nobody in it, the spaniards being fled, and leaving nothing behind but a few leathern bags, all empty, and a few crumbs of bread scattered on the ground where they had eaten. being angry at this, they pulled down a few little huts which the spaniards had made, and fell to eating the leathern bags, to allay the ferment of their stomachs, which was now so sharp as to gnaw their very bowels. thus they made a huge banquet upon these bags of leather, divers quarrels arising concerning the greatest shares. by the bigness of the place, they conjectured about five hundred spaniards had been there, whom, finding no victuals, they were now infinitely desirous to meet, intending to devour some of them rather than perish. having feasted themselves with those pieces of leather, they marched on, till they came about night to another post, called torna munni. here they found another ambuscade, but as barren as the former. they searched the neighbouring woods, but could not find anything to eat, the spaniards having been so provident, as not to leave anywhere the least crumb of sustenance, whereby the pirates were now brought to this extremity. here again he was happy that had reserved since noon any bit of leather to make his supper of, drinking after it a good draught of water for his comfort. some, who never were out of their mothers' kitchens, may ask, how these pirates could eat and digest those pieces of leather, so hard and dry? whom i answer, that, could they once experiment what hunger, or rather famine, is, they would find the way as the pirates did. for these first sliced it in pieces, then they beat it between two stones, and rubbed it, often dipping it in water, to make it supple and tender. lastly, they scraped off the hair, and broiled it. being thus cooked, they cut it into small morsels, and ate it, helping it down with frequent gulps of water, which, by good fortune, they had at hand. the fifth day, about noon, they came to a place called barbacoa. here they found traces of another ambuscade, but the place totally as unprovided as the former. at a small distance were several plantations, which they searched very narrowly, but could not find any person, animal, or other thing, to relieve their extreme hunger. finally, having ranged about, and searched a long time, they found a grot, which seemed to be but lately hewn out of a rock, where were two sacks of meal, wheat, and like things, with two great jars of wine, and certain fruits called platanoes. captain morgan, knowing some of his men were now almost dead with hunger, and fearing the same of the rest, caused what was found to be distributed among them who were in greatest necessity. having refreshed themselves with these victuals, they marched anew with greater courage than ever. such as were weak were put into the canoes, and those commanded to land that were in them before. thus they prosecuted their journey till late at night; when coming to a plantation, they took up their rest, but without eating anything; for the spaniards, as before, had swept away all manner of provisions. the sixth day they continued their march, part by land and part by water. howbeit, they were constrained to rest very frequently, both for the ruggedness of the way, and their extreme weakness, which they endeavoured to relieve by eating leaves of trees and green herbs, or grass; such was their miserable condition. this day at noon they arrived at a plantation, where was a barn full of maize. immediately they beat down the doors and ate it dry, as much as they could devour; then they distributed a great quantity, giving every man a good allowance. thus provided, and prosecuting their journey for about an hour, they came to another ambuscade. this they no sooner discovered, but they threw away their maize, with the sudden hopes of finding all things in abundance. but they were much deceived, meeting neither indians nor victuals, nor anything else: but they saw, on the other side of the river, about a hundred indians, who, all fleeing, escaped. some few pirates leaped into the river to cross it, and try to take any of the indians, but in vain: for, being much more nimble than the pirates, they not only baffled them, but killed two or three with their arrows; hooting at them, and crying, "ha, perros! a la savana, a la savana."--"ha, ye dogs! go to the plain, go to the plain." this day they could advance no farther, being necessitated to pass the river, to continue their march on the other side. hereupon they reposed for that night, though their sleep was not profound; for great murmurings were made at captain morgan, and his conduct; some being desirous to return home, while others would rather die there than go back a step from their undertaking: others, who had greater courage, laughed and joked at their discourses. meanwhile, they had a guide who much comforted them, saying, "it would not now be long before they met with people from whom they should reap some considerable advantage." the seventh day, in the morning, they made clean their arms, and every one discharged his pistol, or musket, without bullet, to try their firelocks. this done, they crossed the river, leaving the post where they had rested, called santa cruz, and at noon they arrived at a village called cruz. being yet far from the place, they perceived much smoke from the chimneys: the sight hereof gave them great joy, and hopes of finding people and plenty of good cheer. thus they went on as fast as they could, encouraging one another, saying, "there is smoke comes out of every house: they are making good fires, to roast and boil what we are to eat;" and the like. at length they arrived there, all sweating and panting, but found no person in the town, nor anything eatable to refresh themselves, except good fires, which they wanted not; for the spaniards, before their departure, had every one set fire to his own house, except the king's storehouses and stables. they had not left behind them any beast, alive or dead, which much troubled their minds, not finding anything but a few cats and dogs, which they immediately killed and devoured. at last, in the king's stables, they found, by good fortune, fifteen or sixteen jars of peru wine, and a leathern sack full of bread. no sooner had they drank of this wine, when they fell sick, almost every man: this made them think the wine was poisoned, which caused a new consternation in the whole camp, judging themselves now to be irrecoverably lost. but the true reason was, their want of sustenance, and the manifold sorts of trash they had eaten. their sickness was so great, as caused them to remain there till the next morning, without being able to prosecute their journey in the afternoon. this village is seated in deg. min. north latitude, distant from the river chagre twenty-six spanish leagues, and eight from panama. this is the last place to which boats or canoes can come; for which reason they built here storehouses for all sorts of merchandise, which to and from panama are transported on the backs of mules. here captain morgan was forced to leaves his canoes, and land all his men, though never so weak; but lest the canoes should be surprised, or take up too many men for their defence, he sent them all back to the place where the boats were, except one, which he hid, that it might serve to carry intelligence. many of the spaniards and indians of this village having fled to the near plantations, captain morgan ordered that none should go out of the village, except companies of one hundred together, fearing lest the enemy should take an advantage upon his men. notwithstanding, one party contravened these orders, being tempted with the desire of victuals: but they were soon glad to fly into the town again, being assaulted with great fury by some spaniards and indians, who carried one of them away prisoner. thus the vigilancy and care of captain morgan was not sufficient to prevent every accident. the eighth day in the morning captain morgan sent two hundred men before the body of his army, to discover the way to panama, and any ambuscades therein: the path being so narrow, that only ten or twelve persons could march abreast, and often not so many. after ten hours' march they came to a place called quebrada obscura: here, all on a sudden, three or four thousand arrows were shot at them, they not perceiving whence they came, or who shot them: though they presumed it was from a high rocky mountain, from one side to the other, whereon was a grot, capable of but one horse or other beast laded. this multitude of arrows much alarmed the pirates, especially because they could not discover whence they were discharged. at last, seeing no more arrows, they marched a little farther, and entered a wood: here they perceived some indians to fly as fast as they could, to take the advantage of another post, thence to observe their march; yet there remained one troop of indians on the place, resolved to fight and defend themselves, which they did with great courage till their captain fell down wounded; who, though he despaired of life, yet his valour being greater than his strength, would ask no quarter, but, endeavouring to raise himself, with undaunted mind laid hold of his azagayo, or javelin, and struck at one of the pirates; but before he could second the blow, he was shot to death. this was also the fate of many of his companions, who, like good soldiers, lost their lives with their captain, for the defence of their country. the pirates endeavoured to take some of the indians prisoners, but they being swifter than the pirates, every one escaped, leaving eight pirates dead, and ten wounded: yea, had the indians been more dextrous in military affairs, they might have defended that passage, and not let one man pass. a little while after they came to a large champaign, open, and full of fine meadows; hence they could perceive at a distance before them some indians, on the top of a mountain, near the way by which they were to pass: they sent fifty men, the nimblest they had, to try to catch any of them, and force them to discover their companions: but all in vain; for they escaped by their nimbleness, and presently showed themselves in another place, hallooing to the english, and crying, "a la savana, a la savana, perros ingleses!" that is, "to the plain, to the plain, ye english dogs!" meanwhile the ten pirates that were wounded were dressed, and plastered up. here was a wood, and on each side a mountain. the indians possessed themselves of one, and the pirates of the other. captain morgan was persuaded the spaniards had placed an ambuscade there, it lying so conveniently: hereupon, he sent two hundred men to search it. the spaniards and indians perceiving the pirates descend the mountain, did so too, as if they designed to attack them; but being got into the wood, out of sight of the pirates, they were seen no more, leaving the passage open. about night fell a great rain, which caused the pirates to march the faster, and seek for houses to preserve their arms from being wet; but the indians had set fire to every one, and driven away all their cattle, that the pirates, finding neither houses nor victuals, might be constrained to return: but, after diligent search, they found a few shepherds' huts, but in them nothing to eat. these not holding many men, they placed in them, out of every company, a small number, who kept the arms of the rest: those who remained in the open field endured much hardship that night, the rain not ceasing till morning. next morning, about break of day, being the ninth of that tedious journey, captain morgan marched on while the fresh air of the morning lasted; for the clouds hanging yet over their heads, were much more favourable than the scorching rays of the sun, the way being now more difficult than before. after two hours' march, they discovered about twenty spaniards, who observed their motions: they endeavoured to catch some of them, but could not, they suddenly disappearing, and absconding themselves in caves among the rocks, unknown to the pirates. at last, ascending a high mountain, they discovered the south sea. this happy sight, as if it were the end of their labours, caused infinite joy among them: hence they could descry also one ship, and six boats, which were set forth from panama, and sailed towards the islands of tavoga and tavogilla: then they came to a vale where they found much cattle, whereof they killed good store: here, while some killed and flayed cows, horses, bulls, and chiefly asses, of which there were most; others kindled fires, and got wood to roast them: then cutting the flesh into convenient pieces, or gobbets, they threw them into the fire, and, half carbonaded or roasted, they devoured them, with incredible haste and appetite; such was their hunger, as they more resembled cannibals than europeans; the blood many times running down from their beards to their waists. having satisfied their hunger, captain morgan ordered them to continue the march. here, again, he sent before the main body fifty men to take some prisoners, if they could; for he was much concerned, that in nine days he could not meet one person to inform him of the condition and forces of the spaniards. about evening they discovered about two hundred spaniards, who hallooed to the pirates, but they understood not what they said. a little while after they came in sight of the highest steeple of panama: this they no sooner discovered but they showed signs of extreme joy, casting up their hats into the air, leaping and shouting, just as if they had already obtained the victory, and accomplished their designs. all their trumpets sounded, and drums beat, in token of this alacrity of their minds: thus they pitched their camp for that night, with general content of the whole army, waiting with impatience for the morning, when they intended to attack the city. this evening appeared fifty horse, who came out of the city, on the noise of the drums and trumpets, to observe, as it was thought, their motions: they came almost within musket-shot of the army, with a trumpet that sounded marvellously well. those on horseback hallooed aloud to the pirates, and threatened them, saying, "perros! nos veremos," that is, "ye dogs! we shall meet ye." having made this menace, they returned to the city, except only seven or eight horsemen, who hovered thereabouts to watch their motions. immediately after the city fired, and ceased not to play their biggest guns all night long against the camp, but with little or no harm to the pirates, whom they could not easily reach. now also the two hundred spaniards, whom the pirates had seen in the afternoon, appeared again, making a show of blocking up the passages, that no pirates might escape their hands: but the pirates, though in a manner besieged, instead of fearing their blockades, as soon as they had placed sentinels about their camp, opened their satchels, and, without any napkins or plates, fell to eating, very heartily, the pieces of bulls' and horses' flesh which they had reserved since noon. this done, they laid themselves down to sleep on the grass, with great repose and satisfaction, expecting only, with impatience, the dawning of the next day. the tenth day, betimes in the morning, they put all their men in order, and, with drums and trumpets sounding, marched directly towards the city; but one of the guides desired captain morgan not to take the common highway, lest they should find in it many ambuscades. he took his advice, and chose another way through the wood, though very irksome and difficult. the spaniards perceiving the pirates had taken another way they scarce had thought on, were compelled to leave their stops and batteries, and come out to meet them. the governor of panama put his forces in order, consisting of two squadrons, four regiments of foot, and a huge number of wild bulls, which were driven by a great number of indians, with some negroes, and others, to help them. the pirates, now upon their march, came to the top of a little hill, whence they had a large prospect of the city and champaign country underneath. here they discovered the forces of the people of panama, in battle array, to be so numerous, that they were surprised with fear, much doubting the fortune of the day: yea, few or none there were but wished themselves at home, or at least free from the obligation of that engagement, it so nearly concerning their lives. having been some time wavering in their minds, they at last reflected on the straits they had brought themselves into, and that now they must either fight resolutely, or die; for no quarter could be expected from an enemy on whom they had committed so many cruelties. hereupon they encouraged one another, resolving to conquer, or spend the last drop of blood. then they divided themselves into three battalions, sending before two hundred bucaniers, who were very dextrous at their guns. then descending the hill, they marched directly towards the spaniards, who in a spacious field waited for their coming. as soon as they drew nigh, the spaniards began to shout and cry, "viva el rey!" "god save the king!" and immediately their horse moved against the pirates: but the fields being full of quags, and soft underfoot, they could not wheel about as they desired. the two hundred bucaniers, who went before, each putting one knee to the ground, began the battle briskly, with a full volley of shot: the spaniards defended themselves courageously, doing all they could to disorder the pirates. their foot endeavoured to second the horse, but were constrained by the pirates to leave them. finding themselves baffled, they attempted to drive the bulls against them behind, to put them into disorder; but the wild cattle ran away, frighted with the noise of the battle; only some few broke through the english companies, and only tore the colours in pieces, while the bucaniers shot every one of them dead. the battle having continued two hours, the greatest part of the spanish horse was ruined, and almost all killed: the rest fled, which the foot seeing, and that they could not possibly prevail, they discharged the shot they had in their muskets, and throwing them down, fled away, every one as he could. the pirates could not follow them, being too much harassed and wearied with their long journey. many, not being able to fly whither they desired, hid themselves, for that present, among the shrubs of the sea-side, but very unfortunately; for most of them being found by the pirates, were instantly killed, without any quarter. some religious men were brought prisoners before captain morgan; but he, being deaf to their cries, commanded them all to be pistolled, which was done. soon after they brought a captain to him, whom he examined very strictly; particularly, wherein consisted the forces of those of panama? he answered, their whole strength consisted in four hundred horse, twenty-four companies of foot, each of one hundred men complete; sixty indians, and some negroes, who were to drive two thousand wild bulls upon the english, and thus, by breaking their files, put them into a total disorder: beside, that in the city they had made trenches, and raised batteries in several places, in all which they had placed many guns; and that at the entry of the highway, leading to the city, they had built a fort mounted with eight great brass guns, defended by fifty men. captain morgan having heard this, gave orders instantly to march another way; but first he made a review of his men, whereof he found both killed and wounded a considerable number, and much greater than had been believed. of the spaniards were found six hundred dead on the place, besides the wounded and prisoners. the pirates, nothing discouraged, seeing their number so diminished, but rather filled with greater pride, perceiving what huge advantage they had obtained against their enemies, having rested some time, prepared to march courageously towards the city, plighting their oaths to one another, that they would fight till not a man was left alive. with this courage they recommenced their march, either to conquer or be conquered; carrying with them all the prisoners. they found much difficulty in their approach to the city, for within the town the spaniards had placed many great guns, at several quarters, some charged with small pieces of iron, and others with musket bullets; with all these they saluted the pirates at their approaching, and gave them full and frequent broadsides, firing at them incessantly; so that unavoidably they lost at every step great numbers of men. but these manifest dangers of their lives, nor the sight of so many as dropped continually at their sides, could deter them from advancing, and gaining ground every moment on the enemy; and though the spaniards never ceased to fire, and act the best they could for their defence, yet they were forced to yield, after three hours' combat. and the pirates having possessed themselves, killed and destroyed all that attempted in the least to oppose them. the inhabitants had transported the best of their goods to more remote and occult places; howbeit, they found in the city several warehouses well stocked with merchandise, as well silks and cloths, as linen and other things of value. as soon as the first fury of their entrance was over, captain morgan assembled his men, and commanded them, under great penalties, not to drink or taste any wine; and the reason he gave for it was, because he had intelligence that it was all poisoned by the spaniards. howbeit, it was thought he gave these prudent orders to prevent the debauchery of his people, which he foresaw would be very great at the first, after so much hunger sustained by the way; fearing, withal, lest the spaniards, seeing them in wine, should rally, and, falling on the city, use them as inhumanly as they had used the inhabitants before. chapter xviii _captain morgan sends canoes and boats to the south sea--he fires the city of panama--robberies and cruelties committed there by the pirates, till their return to the castle of chagre._ captain morgan, as soon as he had placed necessary guards at several quarters within and without the city, commanded twenty-five men to seize a great boat, which had stuck in the mud of the port, for want of water, at a low tide. the same day about noon, he caused fire privately to be set to several great edifices of the city, nobody knowing who were the authors thereof, much less on what motives captain morgan did it, which are unknown to this day: the fire increased so, that before night the greatest part of the city was in a flame. captain morgan pretended the spaniards had done it, perceiving that his own people reflected on him for that action. many of the spaniards, and some of the pirates, did what they could, either to quench the flame, or, by blowing up houses with gunpowder, and pulling down others, to stop it, but in vain: for in less than half an hour it consumed a whole street. all the houses of the city were built with cedar, very curious and magnificent, and richly adorned, especially with hangings and paintings, whereof part were before removed, and another great part were consumed by fire. there were in this city (which is the see of a bishop) eight monasteries, seven for men, and one for women; two stately churches, and one hospital. the churches and monasteries were all richly adorned with altar-pieces and paintings, much gold and silver, and other precious things, all which the ecclesiastics had hidden. besides which, here were two thousand houses of magnificent building, the greatest part inhabited by merchants vastly rich. for the rest of less quality, and tradesmen, this city contained five thousand more. here were also many stables for the horses and mules that carry the plate of the king of spain, as well as private men, towards the north sea. the neighbouring fields are full of fertile plantations and pleasant gardens, affording delicious prospects to the inhabitants all the year. [illustration: "'morgan re-entered the city with his troops'"--_page _] the genoese had in this city a stately house for their trade of negroes. this likewise was by captain morgan burnt to the very ground. besides which building, there were consumed two hundred warehouses, and many slaves, who had hid themselves therein, with innumerable sacks of meal; the fire of which continued four weeks after it had begun. the greatest part of the pirates still encamped without the city, fearing and expecting the spaniards would come and fight them anew, it being known they much outnumbered the pirates. this made them keep the field, to preserve their forces united, now much diminished by their losses. their wounded, which were many, they put into one church, which remained standing, the rest being consumed by the fire. besides these decreases of their men, captain morgan had sent a convoy of one hundred and fifty men to the castle of chagre, to carry the news of his victory at panama. they saw often whole troops of spaniards run to and fro in the fields, which made them suspect their rallying, which they never had the courage to do. in the afternoon captain morgan re-entered the city with his troops, that every one might take up their lodgings, which now they could hardly find, few houses having escaped the fire. then they sought very carefully among the ruins and ashes, for utensils of plate or gold, that were not quite wasted by the flames: and of such they found no small number, especially in wells and cisterns, where the spaniards had hid them. next day captain morgan dispatched away two troops, of one hundred and fifty men each, stout and well armed, to seek for the inhabitants who were escaped. these having made several excursions up and down the fields, woods, and mountains adjacent, returned after two days, bringing above two hundred prisoners, men, women, and slaves. the same day returned also the boat which captain morgan had sent to the south sea, bringing three other boats which they had taken. but all these prizes they could willingly have given, and greater labour into the bargain, for one galleon, which miraculously escaped, richly laden with all the king's plate, jewels, and other precious goods of the best and richest merchants of panama: on board which were also the religious women of the nunnery, who had embarked with them all the ornaments of their church, consisting in much gold, plate, and other things of great value. the strength of this galleon was inconsiderable, having only seven guns, and ten or twelve muskets, and very ill provided with victuals, necessaries, and fresh water, having no more sails than the uppermost of the mainmast. this account the pirates received from some one who had spoken with seven mariners belonging to the galleon, who came ashore in the cockboat for fresh water. hence they concluded they might easily have taken it, had they given her chase, as they should have done; but they were impeded from following this vastly rich prize, by their gluttony and drunkenness, having plentifully debauched themselves with several rich wines they found ready, choosing rather to satiate their appetites than to lay hold on such huge advantage; since this only prize would have been of far greater value than all they got at panama, and the places thereabout. next day, repenting of their negligence, being weary of their vices and debaucheries, they set forth another boat, well armed, to pursue with all speed the said galleon; but in vain, the spaniards who were on board having had intelligence of their own danger one or two days before, while the pirates were cruising so near them; whereupon they fled to places more remote and unknown. the pirates found, in the ports of the island of tavoga and tavogilla, several boats laden with very good merchandise; all which they took, and brought to panama, where they made an exact relation of all that had passed to captain morgan. the prisoners confirmed what the pirates said, adding, that they undoubtedly knew where the galleon might then be, but that it was very probable they had been relieved before now from other places. this stirred up captain morgan anew, to send forth all the boats in the port of panama to seek the said galleon till they could find her. these boats, being in all four, after eight days' cruising to and fro, and searching several ports and creeks, lost all hopes of finding her: hereupon they returned to tavoga and tavogilla; here they found a reasonable good ship newly come from payta, laden with cloth, soap, sugar, and biscuit, with , pieces of eight; this they instantly seized, without the least resistance; as also a boat which was not far off, on which they laded great part of the merchandises from the ship, with some slaves. with this purchase they returned to panama, somewhat better satisfied; yet, withal, much discontented that they could not meet with the galleon. the convoy which captain morgan had sent to the castle of chagre returned much about the same time, bringing with them very good news; for while captain morgan was on his journey to panama, those he had left in the castle of chagre had sent for two boats to cruise. these met with a spanish ship, which they chased within sight of the castle. this being perceived by the pirates in the castle, they put forth spanish colours, to deceive the ship that fled before the boats; and the poor spaniards, thinking to take refuge under the castle, were caught in a snare, and made prisoners. the cargo on board the said vessel consisted in victuals and provisions, than which nothing could be more opportune for the castle, where they began already to want things of this kind. this good luck of those of chagre caused captain morgan to stay longer at panama, ordering several new excursions into the country round about; and while the pirates at panama were upon these expeditions, those at chagre were busy in piracies on the north sea. captain morgan sent forth, daily, parties of two hundred men, to make inroads into all the country round about; and when one party came back, another went forth, who soon gathered much riches, and many prisoners. these being brought into the city, were put to the most exquisite tortures, to make them confess both other people's goods and their own. here it happened that one poor wretch was found in the house of a person of quality, who had put on, amidst the confusion, a pair of taffety breeches of his master's, with a little silver key hanging out; perceiving which, they asked him for the cabinet of the said key. his answer was, he knew not what was become of it, but that finding those breeches in his master's house, he had made bold to wear them. not being able to get any other answer, they put him on the rack, and inhumanly disjointed his arms; then they twisted a cord about his forehead, which they wrung so hard that his eyes appeared as big as eggs, and were ready to fall out. but with these torments not obtaining any positive answer, they hung him up by the wrists, giving him many blows and stripes under that intolerable pain and posture of body. afterwards they cut off his nose and ears, and singed his face with burning straw, till he could not speak, nor lament his misery any longer: then, losing all hopes of any confession, they bade a negro run him through, which put an end to his life, and to their inhuman tortures. thus did many others of those miserable prisoners finish their days, the common sport and recreation of these pirates being such tragedies. captain morgan having now been at panama full three weeks, commanded all things to be prepared for his departure. he ordered every company of men to seek so many beasts of carriage as might convey the spoil to the river where his canoes lay. about this time there was a great rumour, that a considerable number of pirates intended to leave captain morgan; and that, taking a ship then in port, they determined to go and rob on the south sea, till they had got as much as they thought fit, and then return homewards, by way of the east indies. for which purpose they had gathered much provisions, which they had hid in private places, with sufficient powder, bullets, and all other ammunition: likewise some great guns belonging to the town, muskets, and other things, wherewith they designed not only to equip their vessel, but to fortify themselves in some island which might serve them for a place of refuge. this design had certainly taken effect, had not captain morgan had timely advice of it from one of their comrades: hereupon he commanded the mainmast of the said ship to be cut down and burnt, with all the other boats in the port: hereby the intentions of all or most of his companions were totally frustrated. then captain morgan sent many of the spaniards into the adjoining fields and country to seek for money, to ransom not only themselves, but the rest of the prisoners, as likewise the ecclesiastics. moreover, he commanded all the artillery of the town to be nailed and stopped up. at the same time he sent out a strong company of men to seek for the governor of panama, of whom intelligence was brought, that he had laid several ambuscades in the way by which he ought to return: but they returned soon after, saying they had not found any sign of any such ambuscades. for confirmation whereof, they brought some prisoners, who declared that the said governor had had an intention of making some opposition by the way, but that the men designed to effect it were unwilling to undertake it: so that for want of means he could not put his design in execution. february , , captain morgan departed from panama, or rather from the place where the city of panama stood; of the spoils whereof he carried with him one hundred and seventy-five beasts of carriage, laden with silver, gold, and other precious things, beside about six hundred prisoners, men, women, children and slaves. that day they came to a river that passes through a delicious plain, a league from panama: here captain morgan put all his forces into good order, so as that the prisoners were in the middle, surrounded on all sides with pirates, where nothing else was to be heard but lamentations, cries, shrieks, and doleful sighs of so many women and children, who feared captain morgan designed to transport them all into his own country for slaves. besides, all those miserable prisoners endured extreme hunger and thirst at that time, which misery captain morgan designedly caused them to sustain, to excite them to seek for money to ransom themselves, according to the tax he had set upon every one. many of the women begged captain morgan, on their knees, with infinite sighs and tears, to let them return to panama, there to live with their dear husbands and children in little huts of straw, which they would erect, seeing they had no houses till the rebuilding of the city. but his answer was, "he came not thither to hear lamentations and cries, but to seek money: therefore they ought first to seek out that, wherever it was to be had, and bring it to him; otherwise he would assuredly transport them all to such places whither they cared not to go." next day, when the march began, those lamentable cries and shrieks were renewed, so as it would have caused compassion in the hardest heart: but captain morgan, as a man little given to mercy, was not moved in the least. they marched in the same order as before, one party of the pirates in the van, the prisoners in the middle, and the rest of the pirates in the rear; by whom the miserable spaniards were at every step punched and thrust in their backs and sides, with the blunt ends of their arms, to make them march faster. a beautiful lady, wife to one of the richest merchants of tavoga, was led prisoner by herself, between two pirates. her lamentations pierced the skies, seeing herself carried away into captivity often crying to the pirates, and telling them, "that she had given orders to two religious persons, in whom she had relied, to go to a certain place, and fetch so much money as her ransom did amount to; that they had promised faithfully to do it, but having obtained the money, instead of bringing it to her, they had employed it another way, to ransom some of their own, and particular friends." this ill action of theirs was discovered by a slave, who brought a letter to the said lady. her complaints, and the cause thereof, being brought to captain morgan, he thought fit to inquire thereinto. having found it to be true--especially hearing it confirmed by the confession of the said religious men, though under some frivolous exercises of having diverted the money but for a day or two, in which time they expected more sums to repay it--he gave liberty to the said lady, whom otherwise he designed to transport to jamaica. but he detained the said religious men as prisoners in her place, using them according to their deserts. captain morgan arriving at the town called cruz, on the banks of the river chagre, he published an order among the prisoners, that within three days every one should bring in their ransom, under the penalty of being transported to jamaica. meanwhile he gave orders for so much rice and maize to be collected thereabouts, as was necessary for victualling his ships. here some of the prisoners were ransomed, but many others could not bring in their money. hereupon he continued his voyage, leaving the village on the th of march following, carrying with him all the spoil he could. hence he likewise led away some new prisoners, inhabitants there, with those in panama, who had not paid their ransoms. but the two religious men, who had diverted the lady's money, were ransomed three days after by other persons, who had more compassion for them than they had showed for her. about the middle of the way to chagre, captain morgan commanded them to be mustered, and caused every one to be sworn, that they had concealed nothing, even not to the value of sixpence. this done, captain morgan knowing those lewd fellows would not stick to swear falsely for interest, he commanded every one to be searched very strictly, both in their clothes and satchels, and elsewhere. yea, that this order might not be ill taken by his companions, he permitted himself to be searched, even to his very shoes. to this effect, by common consent, one was assigned out of every company to be searchers of the rest. the french pirates that assisted on this expedition disliked this new practice of searching; but, being outnumbered by the english, they were forced to submit as well as the rest. the search being over, they re-embarked, and arrived at the castle of chagre on the th of march. here they found all things in good order, excepting the wounded men whom they had left at their departure; for of these the greatest number were dead of their wounds. from chagre, captain morgan sent, presently after his arrival, a great boat to puerto bello, with all the prisoners taken at the isle of st. catherine, demanding of them a considerable ransom for the castle of chagre, where he then was; threatening otherwise to ruin it. to this those of puerto bello answered, they would not give one farthing towards the ransom of the said castle, and the english might do with it as they pleased. hereupon the dividend was made of all the spoil made in that voyage; every company, and every particular person therein, receiving their proportion, or rather what part thereof captain morgan pleased to give them. for the rest of his companions, even of his own nation, murmured at his proceedings, and told him to his face that he had reserved the best jewels to himself: for they judged it impossible that no greater share should belong to them than two hundred pieces of eight, per capita, of so many valuable plunders they had made; which small sum they thought too little for so much labour, and such dangers, as they had been exposed to. but captain morgan was deaf to all this, and many other like complaints, having designed to cheat them of what he could. at last, finding himself obnoxious to many censures of his people, and fearing the consequence, he thought it unsafe to stay any longer at chagre, but ordered the ordnance of the castle to be carried on board his ship; then he caused most of the walls to be demolished, the edifices to be burnt, and as many other things ruined as could be done in a short time. this done, he went secretly on board his own ship, without giving any notice to his companions, and put out to sea, being only followed by three or four vessels of the whole fleet. these were such (as the french pirates believed) as went shares with captain morgan in the best part of the spoil, which had been concealed from them in the dividend. the frenchmen could willingly have revenged themselves on captain morgan and his followers, had they been able to encounter him at sea; but they were destitute of necessaries, and had much ado to find sufficient provisions for their voyage to jamaica, he having left them unprovided for all things. the end * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors were corrected. this text uses both main-mast and mainmast; french-man and frenchman; sea-side and seaside; such-like and suchlike. page xiii, "robinsoe" changed to "robinson" (robinson crusoe) page xx, "west-indies" was removed from the italics to match rest of usage (dominions of the_ west-indies) page xxi, "soudiers" changed to "souldiers" (either souldiers or) page xxi, "fortifie" moved into italics to match rest of usage (_both fortifie themselves) page , "of" changed to "or" (or china root) page , "chief" changed to "chiefs" (of the chiefs) page , "fish" changed to "flesh" (eat human flesh) page , "el" changed to "el" (of el puerto del) page , "then" changed to "than" (courage than ever) public domain material generously made available by the google books library project (http://books.google.com/) note: project gutenberg has the other two volumes of this work. volume i: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ volume ii: see http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/ images of the original pages are available through the the google books library project. see http://books.google.com/books?vid=fyycaaaayaaj&id the monarchs of the main; or, adventures of the buccaneers. by george w. thornbury, esq. "one foot on sea and one on shore, to one thing constant never." much ado about nothing. in three volumes. vol. iii. london: hurst and blackett, publishers, successors to henry colburn, , great marlborough street. . london: sercombe and jack, great windmill street. contents of vol. iii. chapter i.--ravenau de lussan. as a young french officer joins de graff, at st. domingo--cruises round carthagena--crosses the isthmus--hardships--joins the buccaneer fleet--grogniet, the french captain--previous history of his life--fight with greek mercenaries on the island--take la seppa--engagement off panama--take puebla nueva--separate from english--capture leon--sack chiriquita--burn granada--storm villia--surprised by river ambuscade--treachery of greek spy--capture vessels--behead spanish prisoners--letter of spanish president--burning of the savannahs--quarrel between french and english--attack on quayaquilla--love adventure of de lussan--retreat of french buccaneers by land over the isthmus of darien--passage from north to south pacific--great danger--pass between the mountains--daring stratagem of de lussan--escape--the river of the torrents--rafts--arrives at st. domingo chapter ii.--the last of the brotherhood. sieur de montauban--cruises on the coast of guinea--captures english man-of-war--escape from explosion--life with the negro king--laurence de graff--his victories--enters the french service--treachery--buccaneers join in french expedition and take carthagena--buccaneer marksmen--robbed of spoil--return and retake the city--capture by english and dutch fleets, --buccaneers wrecked with d'estrees--grammont takes santiago--captures maracaibo, gibraltar, and torilla--lands at cumana--enters the french service--lost in a farewell cruise chapter iii.--destruction of the floating empire. peace of ryswick--attempts to settle the buccaneers as planters--they turn pirates--blackbeard and paul jones--last expedition to the darien mines, chapter iv.--the pirates of new providence and the kings of madagascar. laws and dress--government--blackbeard--his enormities--captain avery and the great mogul--davis--lowther--low--roberts--major bonnet--captain gow--the guinea coast--narratives of pirate prisoners--sequel list of authorities. buccaneer chiefs. monarchs of the main. chapter i. ravenau de lussan. joins de graff--cruises round carthagena--crosses the isthmus--hardships--joins buccaneer fleet--grogniet--previous history of the vessels--fight with greek mercenaries--take la seppa--engagement off panama--take puebla nueva--separate from english--take leon--take chiriquita--take granada--capture villia--surprised by ambuscade--treachery of greek spy--capture vessels--behead prisoners--burn the savannahs--quarrel between french and english--take guayaquil--love adventure of de lussan--retreat by land from north to south pacific--daring stratagem of de lussan--escape--river and torrents--rafts--arrive at st. domingo. for the cruises of grogniet we are indebted to the pages of ravenau de lussan, a young soldier, as brave and as sagacious as xenophon. on the nd of november, , ravenau de lussan departed from petit guaves with a crew of adventurers, on board of a prize lately taken near carthagena by captain laurence de graff. their intention was to join themselves to a buccaneer fleet then cruising near havannah. they had hitherto acted as convoy to the lieutenant-general and the intendant of the french colonies, who were afraid of being attacked by the spanish piraguas. soon after descrying the mainland, they were hailed by a french tartane, who, not believing that they were of his own nation, or had a commission from the count of tholouse, the lord high admiral of france, gave them two guns and commanded them to strike. the buccaneers, thinking they had met a spaniard, knocked out the head of two barrels of powder, intending to burn themselves and blow up the vessel, rather than be cruelly tortured and hung at the yard-arm with their commissions round their necks. a signal, however, discovered the mistake, and they were soon after joined by the vessels they sought. one of these was the _mutinous_, formerly the _peace_, commanded by captain michael landresson, and carried fifty guns. the other was the _neptune_, formerly the _st. francis_, and carried forty-four guns. they had both been spanish armadillas, had sallied out of carthagena to take captain de graff, michael, quet, and le sage, and were themselves captured before the very walls. the four other boats belonged to rose vigneron, la garde, and an "english traitor from jamaica." they were then watching for the patache of margarita, and a squadron of spanish ships. at curaçoa they sent a boat ashore to ask leave to land and remast laurence de graff's vessel that had suffered in a hurricane, but were refused, although they showed their commission, and the men who landed were required to leave their swords at the gate. at santa cruz they saluted the fort, and the governor, finding of them roaming about the town, commanded them by drum-beat to return to their ships, offering them two shallops for two pieces of eight a man to take them to their ships, but refusing to let them walk through the island. they found the reason of this was that michael and laurence's ships had lately taken , pieces of eight in two dutch ships near the havannah. this the freebooters did not touch, being at peace with holland, but the sailors had stolen it and laid it to the french. arriving at cape la vella, they placed fifteen sentinels to watch for the patache, and sent a boat to the la hache river to obtain prisoners, but, in spite of various stratagems, failed in the attempt. a dispute now arose among the crews, who were weary of waiting for the patache, such disputes invariably breaking out in all seasons of misfortune, when union was more than usually necessary. laurence de graff, whom they accused of fraud, sailed at once for st. domingo, followed by eighty-seven men in the prize, and ravenau accompanied captain rose and captain michael to carthagena, where they captured seven piraguas laden with maize. from the prisoners they heard that two galleons lay in the port, that the fleet was at porto bello, and that some ships were about to set out. soon after this, finding themselves separated from captain rose and michael, ravenau determined to cross over the continent and get into the south sea, as he heard a previous expedition some months before had done. near cape matance a remarkable adventure happened. a spanish soldier, belonging to the galleons, who had been taken in one of the maize vessels, although treated with every kindness, attempted to drown himself by throwing himself into the sea; his body, however, floated on its back, although he did all he could to drown, till at last, refusing the tackle thrown him from very compassion, he turned himself upon his face, and sank to the bottom. on landing at golden island and fixing a flag to warn the indians, they saw a pennon hoisted upon the shore, and discovered it to belong to three of captain grogniet's men, who had refused to follow the expedition, which had just started for the south sea. some indians soon after brought them letters left for the first freebooters who should land, announcing that grogniet and men had gone into the south sea, and that englishmen had preceded them. soon after michael and rose, pursuing a spanish vessel from santiago to carthagena, came in to water, and many of the crew resolved to join their march. men left michael, and the whole sixty-four of rose's crew, reimbursing the owners, burnt their vessel and joined them. ravenau's ship was left in the care of captain michael, and the united men now encamped on shore. on sunday, march st, , after recommending themselves to the almighty's protection, the expedition set out under the command of captains rose, picard, and desmarais, with two indian guides and forty indian porters. the country proved so rugged that they could only travel three leagues a day; it was full of mountains, precipices, and impenetrable forests. great rains fell, and increased the hardship of the journey, and the weight of their arms and ammunition clogged them in ascending the precipices. on descending into the plain, which, though pathless, appeared smooth and level, they found they had to cross the same river forty-four times in the space of only two leagues, and this upon dangerous and slippery rocks. arriving next day at an indian caravansery, they remained some time shooting deer, monkeys, and wild hogs, flame-coloured birds, wild pheasants, and partridges that abounded in the woods. at length, after six days of painful and wearisome travel, the buccaneers reached the bocca del chica river, that empties itself in the south sea. here, guided by the indians, they fell to work making canoes, and bartered knives, needles, and hatchets, with the savages, for maize, potatoes, and bananas. though well assured that their march had been impossible but for the friendliness of these savages, they still kept on their guard, fearing treachery. "they had," says ravenau, with a pious sigh of pity, "no sign of religion or of the knowledge of god amongst them, holding that they have communion with the devil," and, indeed, as he declares, after spending solitary nights in the woods, often foretelling events to the frenchmen, that came true to the minutest detail. just as they had finished making their canoes, lussan heard that the english expedition, under captain townley, had captured two provision vessels from lima, and soon after one of grogniet's men, who had been lost while hunting, joined them. hearing that grogniet awaited them at king's islands, before he attacked the peru fleet, they started on the st of april in fourteen canoes, with twenty oars a piece, and with a score of indian guides, who were sanguine of plunder. on the fourth they halted for stragglers, and mended their canoes, much injured by the rocks and flats of the river. in some places they were even forced to carry their boats, or to drag them over fallen trees that blocked the deeper parts by the flood. several men died, and many were seized with painful diseases, produced by hard food and immersion in the water. they were now reduced to a handful of raw maize a day. from some indians sent forward to meet them, they heard that provisions awaited them at some distance, and that spaniards had prepared an ambuscade on the river's banks. this, however, they avoided, by stirring only at dark, and then without noise. surprised one night by the tide, the canoes were driven swiftly down the river, and some of them upset against a snag; the men were saved, but the arms and ammunition were lost. on approaching the indian ambuscade at lestocada, they placed their canoes one in the other, and telling the sentinels that they were indian boats, bringing salt into the south sea, escaped unhurt. on the th it grew so dark that the rowers could hardly see each other, and the heavy rain filled the boat so dangerously as to require two men to bale perpetually. at midnight they entered shouting into the south sea, and found the provisions awaiting them at bocca chica, together with two barks to bring them to the fleet. resting for a day or two, they repaired to the king's islands to await the ships. these mountainous islands were the stronghold of maroon negroes. on the nd, easter day, the fleet arrived. it consisted of ten vessels, captain david's frigate of thirty-six guns, captain samms, vice-admiral, with sixteen guns, captain townley, with two ships; captain grogniet, captain brandy, and captain peter henry had also each a vessel, and the two small barks were commanded by quartermasters. except grogniet, who was a frenchman, and david, who was a fleming, the rest were all englishmen. their total force amounted to the number of . of the different vessels, ravenau gives the following laudatory account. the admiral's belonged to the english, who, at st. domingo, had surprised a long bark, commanded by captain tristan, a frenchman, while waiting for a wind. they took next a dutch ship, and, changing vessels, went and made several prizes on the coast of guinea, and, at castres capturing a vessel from hamburg, joined this expedition. they were, ravenau declared, little better than pirates, attacking even, their own countrymen, which no true buccaneer ever did. they had, a short time before, been chastised by a frigate, who, giving them a broadside and a volley of small shot, killed their captain and twenty men. the vice-admiral's was a vessel they had forced to join them, and had lately taken a ship called the _sainte rose_, laden with corn and wine, bound from truxillo to panama, and this vessel davis gave to the french. the others were all prizes captured in the south seas. the holy alliance soon after took an advice boat that was carrying letters from madrid to panama, and despatches from the viceroy of peru; but both the captain and pilot were bound by an oath rather to die than deliver up their packets or divulge any secret, and had thrown overboard the rolls as well as a casket of jewels. on the same evening men, in twenty-two canoes, embarked to take la seppa, a small town seven leagues to windward, of panama. the next day, early in the morning, two armed piraguas, manned with spanish mercenaries, seeing some of the buccaneer canoes and forty-six men approaching them, ran ashore on an island in the bay and prepared to defend themselves. these troops were composed of all nations, and had been sent to defend this coast. one of the "greek" boats split on the beach. the other the buccaneers took, but the fugitives, planting their flag of defiance on a rising ground, fought desperately, and compelled the freebooters to land on another part of the island and take them in the rear. after an hour's conflict they fled into the woods, leaving thirty-five men dead round their colours and two prisoners. the attack upon la seppa proved a failure, for the sea rovers had to row two leagues up a river, where they were soon discovered by the sentinels. yet for all this they fell furiously on, and took it with the loss of only one man; but the booty proved inconsiderable. the fleet now anchored at the beautiful islands called the gardens of panama. all the rich merchants of the city had pleasure-houses here surrounded by rich orchards and arbours of jessamine, and watered by rills and streams. the hungry sailors revelled in the fruits, and reaped plentiful harvests of maize and rice, which ravenau says "the spaniards, i believe, did not sow with an intention they should enjoy." on the th of may they passed the old and new towns of panama in bravado with colours and streamers flying, anchored at tavoga, another island of pleasure. having caulked their ships, they sent out a long bark as a scout, and arranged a plan of attacking the spanish fleet. davis and grogniet were to board the admiral; samms and brandy the vice-admiral; and henry and townley the patache; while the armed piraguas would hover about and keep off the enemy's fire-ships. the next day they put ashore forty prisoners at tavoga; and the same day, the sound of cannon, which they could not account for, announced the unobserved arrival of the spanish fleet at panama. the whole buccaneer squadron, expecting a battle soon, took the usual oath that they would not wrong one another to the value of a piece of eight, if god was pleased to give them the victory over the spaniard. they had scarcely discovered from a spanish prisoner that the fleet had actually arrived, and was careening and remanning before they ventured out, when captain grogniet, raising his flag seven times, gave notice to make quickly ready. the buccaneers doubled the point of the island where they had anchored, and saw seven great vessels bearing down upon them with a bloody flag to the stern and a royal one at their masts. the frenchmen, mad with joy at the prospect of such prizes, and thinking them already their own, threw their hats into the sea for joy. it was now noon. the rest of the day was spent by both fleets in trying to obtain the weather-gauge, and at sunset they exchanged a broadside. in the night a floating lanthorn deceived the buccaneers, and in the morning they found themselves all still to leeward, with the exception of two vessels which had no guns. although terribly mauled by the spanish shot, the english admiral and vice-admiral resolved to die fighting rather than let one vessel be taken, although both being good sailors they might have at once saved themselves. the spaniards, refusing to board, battered them safely at a distance, and prevented grogniet from joining them, while peter henry's ship, having received more than cannon shot, sheered off and was taken by two piraguas. the long bark, sorely handled, was deserted by her crew, who threw their guns overboard and left the spanish prisoners to shift for themselves. these wretches attempted to rejoin their countrymen; but the spanish admiral, mistaking them for enemies, sank them with his cannon. peter henry's vessel reached the isle of st. john de cueblo, twenty-four leagues from panama, with five feet of water in the hold, and having repaired, rejoined his fleet in about a fortnight. they found that captain davis had been hard plied, having received two shots in his rudder, and six of his men were wounded, but only one killed. captain samms had been no less put to it. his poop was half swept off, and he had received several shots between wind and water. he had had three men wounded, and his mate had had his head carried off by a cannon ball. the smaller vessels had lost no men, but had a few wounded. the spanish admiral, they found, had carried guns, the vice-admiral , the patache , and the conserve . the fire-ships had also been mounted with cannon to conceal their real purpose. on considering the disparity of force, and the little loss his companions received, ravenau seems to have no doubt that if they could have intercepted the spaniards before they entered panama, and could have got the weather-gauge of them, he should have returned through the straits with wealth enough to have lived all his life at ease, and have escaped three more years of danger and fatigue. not the least discouraged by this repulse, the freebooters landed men, from five canoes, to surprise the town of puebla nueva. rowing two leagues up a very fine river, they captured one sentinel, but another escaped and gave the alarm. they found the place deserted, but took a ship on their way back. a quarrel broke out here between the french and the english. the latter, superior in numbers, would have taken grogniet's ship away, and given it to townley, had not the frenchmen put on a determined front. refusing to acknowledge this assumption of dominion, of them banded themselves apart, and grogniet's crew made them altogether in number. "besides national animosity, one of the chief reasons," says lussan, "that made us disagree was their impiety against our religion, for they made no scruple when they got into a church to cut down the arms of a crucifix with their sabres, or to shoot them down with their fusils and pistols, bruising and maiming the images of the saints with the same weapons, in derision to the adoration we frenchmen paid unto them. and it was chiefly from these horrid disorders that the spaniards equally hated us all, as we came to understand by divers of their letters that fell into our hands." we have no doubt at all that, but for these "horrible disorders," the spaniards would have considered the death of their children and the loss of their money as real compliments. returning to the isle of st. john, both nations in separate encampments began to cut down acajou trees to hollow into canoes in place of those they had lost in the fight. these trees were so large that one trunk would hold eighty men. afraid of the english, the frenchmen placed a sentinel in a high tree on the sea-shore, to watch both the camps, and also to give the signal if any spanish vessel approached. a buccaneer ship putting into the harbour, they discovered it to be commanded by captain willnett. forty of his crew left him, and joined the english, but eleven frenchmen remained with grogniet. this vessel had just captured a corn ship near sansonnat, and hearing of other brothers being on the south coast, had set out in search of them. the frenchmen were now very short of food, having little powder, and not daring to waste it upon deer and monkeys when spaniards were at hand, for in fifteen days the englishmen had eaten or driven away all the turtle. they were reduced to an allowance of two turtle for men in forty-eight hours. many of the men wandering into the woods ate poisonous fruits. others were bitten by serpents, and died enduring terrible pains, ignorant of the fruit which is an antidote to such wounds. several were devoured by crocodiles. while in this strait, the english sent a quartermaster to ask the french to join in an expedition against the town of leon, being too weak by themselves. the wounded vanity of the french contended with their hunger. they knew that the english had plenty of provisions, brought in willnett's ship, and thirty men, weary of fasting, left grogniet and joined davis. but ravenau's party having but one ship asked for another, in order that they might keep together, and this being refused, broke off the treaty. as soon as the leon party had embarked, the french, commanded by captain grogniet, also started with men in five canoes, leaving in the island to build more canoes, and join them on the continent. coming on the mainland to a cattle station, and afterwards to a sugar plantation, they took several prisoners whom they found ignorant of the disjunction of the french and english. sending back a canoe with provisions to the island, they landed again about forty leagues to leeward of panama, and at cock-crowing surprised a spanish estantia, and took fifty prisoners, including a young man and woman of rank who promised ransom. these they carried to the island ignuana, and received the money after a fortnight's delay. on their return to st. john's they found that men had been to puebla nueva, and taken the place, although discovered by the sentinels, and had remained there two days in spite of continual attacks. the commander of the place had come with a trumpet to speak to them, and inquired why, being english, they fought under french colours. but they, not satisfying his curiosity, fiercely told him to be gone from whence he came. eight of them, having strayed from the main body, had been bravely set on by spaniards, who killed two of them, but, with all the advantage they had of numbers, could not hinder the other six from recovering the main guard, who fought and retreated with extraordinary vigour. once more reunited, these restless norsemen started to the mainland in six canoes, in number, to visit the sugar plantation near st. jago, where they had been before. two men were sent to the cattle station to obtain the ransom of the master, whom they kept prisoner, and others visited the sugar works in search of some cauldrons, which they needed; and, fired at hearing the governor of st. jago, with men, had visited the place since their departure, they sent to dare him to meet them. careening their ships and taking in water and wood, they would at once have sailed away, but were detained by eighteen days' rain, during which time the sun did not once appear. this part of the south sea was proverbial for continual rains, and was called by the spaniards "the droppings." "these rains," ravenau says, "not only rotted their sails, but produced dysentery among the men, and bred worms, half a finger long and as thick as a quill, between their skin and their flesh." soon after leaving the island they were nearly cast away in a dreadful storm, and were compelled to repair their shattered sails with shirts and drawers, wherewith they were already very indifferently provided. at realegua, where there was a volcano burning, they landed men in four canoes, and obtained some prisoners by surprising a hatto. they found the english had already taken leon and burnt realegua. in spite of spanish reinforcements from eight neighbouring towns, they stayed at leon three whole days, and challenged the spaniards to meet them in the race savannah. but the spaniards replied, they were not yet all come together; "which means," says our friend ravenau, "that they were not yet six to one." while here, one of their quartermasters, a catalonian by birth, fled to the spaniards, and compelled the french to abandon a design on the town of granada. at realegua six men tried to swim ashore to fill some water casks, in spite of the spaniards on the beach, and one of them was drowned in the attempt. they landed at the port, and found the churches and houses and three entrenchments half burnt. surprising the sentinels of leon, they discovered that in spite of a garrison of men, the inhabitants, hearing the buccaneers had landed, were hiding their treasure. they soon after put to flight a detachment of horse, and took the captain prisoner. a few days after this men left the vessels to take a small town of puebla vieja, near realegua, which they found still deserted. it had become the custom now among the spaniards, when the freebooters had frequently taken the same place, for the prelate to excommunicate it, and henceforward not even to bury their dead there. discovered by the sentinel, the buccaneers found the enemy entrenched in the church of puebla, and about horse in the market-place. a few discharges drove the horsemen away, and the defenders of the church fled through a door in the vestry. staying a day and a-half in the captured town, the freebooters carried away all the provisions they could find on horses and on their own backs, taking with them a spanish gentleman who promised ransom. the next day a spanish officer brought a letter signed by the vicar-general of the province, written by order of the general of costa rica, declaring that france and spain were at peace and leagued to fight the infidel, and offering them a passage to the north sea in his catholic majesty's galleons. to this they returned a threatening answer, and, putting thirty prisoners ashore, proceeded to careen their ships, the spaniards lighting fires along the coast as they departed. an expedition, with fifty men in three canoes, against the town of esparso failed, but the hungry men killed and ate the horses of the sentinels whom they took prisoners, for they had now tasted hardly anything for four days. at caldaria they visited a bananery, and loaded their canoes with the fruit, and at point borica stored their boats with cocoa-nuts, which ravenau takes care to describe as nuts unknown in europe. laden with gold, but nevertheless, like midas, starving for want of food, they landed sixty men in three canoes and took some prisoners at a hatto which they surrounded, but finding they were very near chiriquita, and a garrison of men, retreated to their ships, forcing their way through horse who reviled them, and challenged them to revisit the town, which they took care soon after to do. on the th of january, , they started men in eight canoes to revisit this place, going ashore at night without a guide, and marched till daylight without being discovered. on the th they hid all day in a wood, and as night approached again pushed forward, the th they spent also hid in a covert, and then found they had gone ashore on the wrong side of the river. fatigued as they were, they waited till night, and then, returning to their canoes, crossed the river. surprising the watch, they found the spaniards, even on the former alarm, had removed all their treasure. on the th, they reached chiriquita two hours before day, and found the inhabitants asleep. the townsmen had been two days disputing with one another about the watches, and the buccaneers ridiculed them by telling them they had come to spare them the trouble. the soldiers they discovered playing in the court of guard, and they found a small frigate ashore at the mouth of the river. about noon, five of the buccaneers, straggling into the suburbs to plunder a house and obtain prisoners, were set upon by an ambuscade of men. finding no hope of escape, rather than be taken alive they resolved to sell their lives dearly, and back to back fought the enemy for an hour and a-half, when only two remained capable of resistance. the main body, who thought they had been simply firing at a mark, came to their relief, upon which the enemy at once fled. of this skirmish, at which lussan was present, he says--"this succour coming in so seasonably, did infallibly save our lives; for the enemy having already killed us two men and disabled another, it was impossible we should hold out against such a shower of bullets as were poured in upon us from all sides; and so i may truly say i escaped a scouring, and that without receiving as much as one wound, but by a visible hand of protection from heaven. the spaniards left thirty men dead upon the spot; and thus we defended ourselves as desperate men, and, to say all in a word, like freebooters." the buccaneers having burnt all the houses in the town, fearing a night attack, retreated into the great church, exchanging a shot now and then with the enemy. this town was built on the savannahs, and surrounded by hattoes, its chief trade being in tallow and leather. the men rested here till the tenth, rejoicing in plenty of provision after nearly four days' fast. they then removed their prisoners to an island in the river, where the spaniards could only approach them openly in a fleet of shallops. the enemy, driven out of an ambuscade, sent to demand the prisoners, saying they would recover them or perish in the attempt; but grew pacified when grogniet declared they should all be put to death if a single bullet was fired. driving off a guard of men, they also plundered the stranded vessel, and discovered by the letters that the admiral of the peru fleet had lately been lost with his men, by his vessel being struck by a thunderbolt. on the sixteenth, obtaining a ransom for their prisoners, they returned to the island of st. john. the spaniards, from fear of the freebooters, having put a stop to their navigation, no ships were to be captured, and having no sails, and their ship being useless without them, the french began to cut down trees and build piraguas. on the th they descried seven sail at sea, and put out five canoes to reconnoitre, suspecting it was the vanguard of the peruvian fleet. soon after discerning twelve piraguas and three long barks coasting in the distance, they retreated to their docks in the river, and ran their bark ashore to render it useless to the spaniards, placing an ambuscade of men along the banks. the enemy, suspecting a trick, disregarded the two canoes that were sent to draw them into the snare, but commenced to furiously cannonade the grounded ship, which contained nothing but a poor cat, and then, perceiving her empty, bravely boarded and burnt her for the sake of the iron work, and soon afterwards sailed away. they learnt afterwards that the chiriquita prisoners had reported that they had fortified the island, and the fleet had been sent to land field-pieces and demolish the works. this alarm of the spaniards had been encouraged by the buccaneers having purposely asked at chiriquita for masons, and obliged the prisoners to give bricks as part of the ransom. on the th of march, they left the island of st. john, in two barks, a half galley of forty oars, ten large piraguas, and ten smaller canoes, built of mapou wood. taking a review of their men, fourteen of whom had died in february, they found they had lost thirty since the departure of the english. to prepare for a long-planned attack on granada, a half galley and four canoes were despatched to get provisions at puebla nueva. entering the river by moonlight, the buccaneers approached within pistol shot of a small frigate, a long bark, and a piragua, which they supposed to be their old english allies, but were received by a splashing volley of great and small shot that killed twenty men. the ships were, in fact, a detachment of the spanish fleet left to guard some provision ships lading for panama. quickly recovering from their surprise, the adventurers, though without cannon, fought them stiffly for two hours, killing every man that appeared in the shrouds, and bringing down one by one the grenadiers from the main-top. but as soon as the moon went down, the buccaneers sheered off with four dead men and thirty-three wounded, waiting for daylight to have their revenge. in the mean time, the enemy had retired under cover of an entrenchment, to which the country people, attracted during the night by the firing, had crowded in arms; against these odds, the buccaneers were unwillingly compelled to retire, and soon rejoined their canoes at st. peter's. landing at a town ten leagues leeward of chiriquita, they obtained no provisions, and had, with the loss of two men, to force their way through an ambuscade of spaniards. rejoining their barks they spent some days in hunting in the bay of boca del toro, and obtaining nourishing food for the wounded men. their next enterprise was against the town of lesparso, which they found abandoned. while lying in the bay they were joined by captain townley and five canoes, who, with his men, begged to be allowed to join in the expedition against granada. remembering the old imperious dealing of the english, the french at first, to frighten them, boarded their canoes, and offered to take them away. "then," says lussan, "we let the captain know we were _honester_ men than he (a curious dispute), and that though we had the upper hand, yet we would not take the advantage of revenging the injuries they had done us, and that we would put him and all his men in possession of what we had taken from them four or five hours before." the men were then assembled in a bananery island, in the bay, and an account taken of their supply of powder, for fear any should expend it in hunting. orders were also enacted that any brother found guilty of cowardice, violence, drunkenness, disobedience, theft, or straggling from the main body, should lose his share of the booty of granada. on the th the french and english departed in piraguas and canoes, men, and landed on a flat shore, following a good guide, who led them for two days through a wood. they were, however, seen by some fishermen, who alarmed the town, which had already received intelligence of their march from lesparso. great fatigue obliged them to rest on the evening of the th at a sugar plantation belonging to a knight of st. james, whom they were too tired to pursue. on the th they saw two ships on the distant lake of nicaragua, carrying off all the wealth of the town to a neighbouring island. from a prisoner they learnt that the inhabitants were strongly entrenched in the market-place, guarded by fourteen pieces of cannon and six patereroes, and that six troops of horse were waiting to attack them in the rear. this information, which would have damped the courage of any but buccaneers, drove them only the faster to the charge. at two in the afternoon they entered the town, over the dead bodies of a party that had awaited them in ambuscade, and sent a party to reconnoitre the fort. the skirmishers, after a few shots, returned, and reported that there were three streets leading to the fort, so they all resolved to concentrate in one of these. lussan describes the scene, of which he was an eye-witness, too graphically to need curtailing. "after we had exhorted one another," he says, "to fall on bravely, we advanced at a good round pace towards the said fortification. as soon as the defendants saw us within a good cannon-shot of them, they fired furiously upon us; but observing that at every discharge of their great guns, we saluted them down to the ground, in order to let their shot fly over us, they bethought themselves of false priming them, to the end we might raise our bodies, after the sham was over, and so to be really surprised with their true firing. as soon as we discovered this stratagem, we ranged ourselves along the houses, and having got upon a little ascent, which was a garden plot, we fired upon them from thence so openly for an hour and a-half that they were obliged to quit their ground, which our hardy boys, who were got to the foot of their walls, contributed yet more than the other by pouring in hand-grenades incessantly upon them, so that at last they betook themselves to the great church or tower, but they wounded us some men. as soon as our people, who had got upon the said eminence, perceived that the enemy fled, they called to us to jump over the walls, which we had no sooner done than they followed us, and thus it was that we made ourselves masters of the town, from whence they fled, after having lost a great many men. we had on our side but four men killed and eight wounded, which in truth was very cheap. when we got into the fort we found it to be a place capable of containing , fighting men; it was encompassed with a wall the same as our prisoners gave us an account of. it was pierced with many holes, to do execution upon the assailants, and was well stored with arms. that part of it which looked towards the street, through which we attacked it, was defended by two pieces of cannon and four patereroes, to say nothing of several other places made to open in the wall through which they thrust instruments made on purpose to break the legs of those who should be adventurous enough to come near it; but these, by the help of our grenadiers, we rendered useless to them. after we had sung _te deum_ in the great church, and set four sentinels in the tower, we fixed our court of guard in the strong-built houses that are also enclosed within the place of arms, and there gathered all the ammunition we could get, and then we went to visit the houses, wherein we found nothing but a few goods and some provision, which we carried into our court of guard." the next evening men were despatched to a distant sugar plantation, to capture some ladies of rank and treasure; but on the next day a monk came to treat about the ransom they would require to spare the town. unluckily the spaniards had captured a buccaneer straggler, who told them that his companions never meant to burn the place, but intended to stop there some months, and return into the north sea, by the lake of nicaragua. the freebooters, being refused the ransom, set fire to the houses in revenge. had the french indeed had but canoes to capture the two ships in the island and secure the treasure, they would undoubtedly have carried out this plan. to a handful of hungry men, without food and without ships, even the gardens of granada appeared hateful. on leaving the town the buccaneers took with them one piece of cannon and four patereroes, drawn by oxen, having to fight their way for twenty leagues to the shore over the savannah, surrounded by , spaniards thirsting for their blood. in every place the enemy fled at the first discharge of their pieces. from a prisoner they learnt that a million and a-half pieces of eight, kept for ransom, was buried in the wall of the fort, but the men felt no disposition to return. they were soon obliged to leave their cannon behind, the oxen choked with the dust, worn out with the heat, and dying of thirst; but the patereroes were still dragged on by the mules. at the little village of massaya, near the lake, they were received with open arms by the indians, who only entreated them not to burn their huts. all the water in the village had been tainted by the spaniards, but the natives brought them as much as they needed. while they lay here a spanish monk came to them to obtain the release of a priest who had been taken armed and with pockets filled with poisoned bullets. they refused to surrender him but in exchange for one of their own men. the next day, passing from the forest into a plain, they were attacked by men, drawn up upon an ascent, and commanded by their spanish deserter. each party displayed bloody flags, but the vanguard beat them with wonderful bravery, and took fifty horses. the enemy fled, leaving their arms and the wounded, and turned out to be auxiliaries from leon. in three days more they reached the beach, and, resting several days to salt provisions, sailed to realegua, where they collected provisions and horses. they then burnt down the borough of ginandego, in spite of soldiers and an entrenchment, because the inhabitants had defied them to come. even here they were, however, much straitened for provision, the corregidor of leon having desired all men to burn the provisions wherever the buccaneers landed. the same day at noon the sentinels rang the alarm bell in the steeple, and gave notice that men from leon were advancing across the savannah to fight them. the men, bustling out of their houses, marched at once, in number, under their red colours, and drove off the enemy after a few shots. there now arose a dissension in the flibustier councils. frenchmen and all the english, headed by captain townley, determined to go up before panama to see if the navigation had yet been resumed. frenchmen, under captain grogniet, resolved to go lower westward and winter upon an island, waiting for some abatement of the rains and southerly winds. the barks, canoes, and provisions were then divided, and the chirurgeons brought in the accounts of the wounded and crippled. there were found to be four men crippled and six hurt: to the latter were given pieces of eight a man, and to the former , being exactly all the money then in store. ravenau joined the panama division, which, touching again at their old quarters on the island of st. john, took off a prisoner who had made his escape when they were last there, and proceeded to land and capture the town of villia with men. marching with great rapidity they reached the town an hour after sunrise, and surprising the inhabitants at mass, took prisoners. they then attempted to capture three barks lying in the river, but the spanish sailors sank one and destroyed the rigging of the other two. gathering together all the merchandise of the town left by the fleet, the invaders found it to amount to a million and a-half, valued at , pieces of eight in good silver. much treasure was, however, buried, the spaniards submitting to death rather than confess their hiding-places. the next day a party of fourscore men were sent to drive the pack horses to the river side to load the booty in two spanish canoes. they despaired of obtaining any ransom for the town, as the alcalde major had sent to them to say that the only ransom he should give was powder and ball, whereof he had a great deal at their service; that as to the prisoners, he should entrust them to the hands of god, and that his people were getting ready as fast as they could, to have the honour of seeing them. upon receiving this daring answer, the buccaneers, in a rage, fired the town and marched to the river. as the spanish ambuscades prevented the boats coming up to meet them, the adventurers put nine men on board the boats, the men marching by their side to guard them from attack. on the other side, unknown to them and hidden by the trees, marched spaniards. when they had proceeded about a league, an impassable thicket compelled them to make a diversion of some paces, an accident which involved the loss of the whole plunder of villia. before they left the boats, the captain ordered the crews to stop a little higher up, where the three spanish barks lay, and endeavour to bring them away. on arriving there they were surprised by an ambuscade, and as they defended themselves against the spaniards, the current drove them on beyond the three barks and far from the main body. seeing them now helpless, the enemy discharged sixty musket shots at them, and killed four men and wounded one. the rest, abandoning the canoes, swam to the other side of the river, while a dozen indians wading in brought the boat to the spaniards; cutting off the head of a wounded man and setting it on a pole by the shore. the buccaneers who did not hear the firing, were astonished on returning to the river to see no canoes, and while waiting for them to come up, for they supposed they were behind, the rowers, who had escaped, broke breathless through the thicket, and told their story. luckily in their flight through the wood they had discovered the rudders and sails of the three barks, in which the buccaneers at once embarked, and sent fifty-six men on shore to recover the fittings, agreeing that each should fire three guns as a signal. soon after they had landed, the report of about guns was heard, but before they could reach the enemy the spaniards had fled. going ashore the next day, they found the two canoes dashed to pieces, and the bodies of the dead much mutilated--the head of one set upon a pole, and the body of another burnt in the fire. these objects so enraged the buccaneers, that they instantly cut off four of their prisoners' heads, and set them on poles in the same place. their own dead they carried with them to bury by the sea-side--the fitting burial-place for seamen. three times they had to land to break through ambuscades at the river's mouth, in the last attack losing three men. with a spaniard who came on board, they agreed for a ransom of , pieces of eight, but threatened to kill all the prisoners if the money was not brought in within two days. upon the stubborn alcalde seizing the hostages who were sent ashore to obtain money to release their wives, the buccaneers cut off the heads of two prisoners and sent them to the town, declaring that if no ransom was paid, they would serve the rest the same, and having put the women on an island, would come and capture the alcalde. the same evening came in a promise to pay all the ransoms, and to bring besides, every day while they stayed, ten oxen, twenty sheep, and lbs. of meal. for a buccaneer's fire-arms which the enemy pretended to have lost (for the spaniards were fond of french arms), they paid pieces of eight. they also bought one of the captured barks for pieces of eight and lbs. of nails, of which the adventurers stood in great need, but her tackle and anchors were not surrendered. they obtained also a flibustier passport that the bark should not be retaken, although her cargo might be confiscated. having then obtained a parting present of salted beeves, from this long-suffering place the french set sail. afraid to land on the continent, which was guarded by , men, they abstained, till, nearly dying with thirst, they made a descent with sailors, driving off the spaniards, whom they found lying on the grass about paces from the sea. lussan says they saw "we were a people who would hazard all for a small matter." landing at midnight at a small island near cape pin, they were discovered by the pearl divers, but still contrived to capture a ship at daybreak. from their prisoners they heard that the spaniards had lately defeated a party of thirty-six, french and english, from peru, who were attempting to pass into the north sea by the river bocca del chica. two parties of english, forty each, on their way into the south sea, had also been massacred all but four, who were prisoners at panama. to balance these ill omens, tidings of prizes reached the buccaneers on every hand. a bark was lying in the bocca del chica river, waiting for lbs. of gold from the mines to bring to panama. two ships laden with meal and money for the garrison of lima were also expected; and from a prisoner (a spy, it afterwards appeared), captured at the king's islands, they learnt that two merchant barks and a piragua with sixty indians lay in the river of seppa, besides a frigate and scout galley under the guns of panama. much in want of vessels, and not suspecting the prisoner, four canoes were sent at once to cut out the barks of panama, the "greek" soldier going with them readily as a guide. they arrived two hours before daylight, and the moon shining very bright they waited for a cloud to obscure it, seeing, as they thought, the anticipated prize lying near with her sails loose. by mere chance, the adventurers, to waste no time, pursued a vessel just leaving the port, thinking it was the scout galley, and took it without a shot. upon examination, the captain confessed their guide was the commander of a greek piragua, and had been promised a large reward by the governor of panama to betray them into his hands. the ship they saw was a mere sham of boards and sails, built upon firm land, only a pistol shot from the port. they supposed that the buccaneers, eager to take her, would row up, and so drive their canoes far on shore, and hoped to overpower them before they got off. the greek captain being at once identified as a spy, was, says ringrose, "sent to that world where he had designed to send us." the fleet then proceeded to take the islands of ottoqua and tavoga, losing two men in the greek's second ambuscade at seppa, but capturing in their way a bark from nata laden with provisions, after a few discharges of musketry, the spanish captain swimming to shore. from tavoga they sent a message to the governor of panama, to say that if he did not at once surrender his five english and french captives, they would at once put to death fifty spanish prisoners. they then anchored again at the king's islands, and sent a galley and four canoes up the bocca chica river to see if the indians were at peace with spain or not, and to destroy an ambuscade of spaniards, who they heard were lying in wait on the banks for thirty freebooters, on their way from the south to the north pacific. carried swiftly up the river by the current, the guide, compelling them to row faster just before daybreak, brought them, much to their astonishment, at a bend of the river, opposite the camp fires of the enemy. the guide being hailed, replied they were from panama; and being asked the name of the commander, hesitated about a fitting title, and received a volley in return. the buccaneers driving off the enemy with two patereroes, passed them quickly, and, anchoring out of reach, waited for the ebb tide to return. putting all their men under deck, the adventurers returned about an hour before daylight, saluting them with four paterero shots as they passed, and receiving no injury in return. the next day, taking a small indian vessel, the buccaneers landed lower down the river, intending to take the spanish entrenchment in the rear; but seeing the enemy putting out a piragua to attack their galley, they returned in great haste and landed opposite the spanish court of guard, killing a great many men and driving out the rest. they also shot an indian, who, mistaking them for spaniards, followed them and reviled them as they were re-embarking. the prisoners told them that the neighbouring town of terrible was prepared for their coming. a letter to the camp-master of terrible was found in the entrenchment. it concluded thus: "i have sent you men to defeat these enemies of god and goodness; be sure to keep upon your watch; be afraid of being surprised, and your men will infallibly be gainers in defeating of them." the prisoners also put them on their guard as to many ambuscades and secret dangers. having burnt the guard-house, and carried off the piragua with some pounds of gold-dust, the buccaneers departed, dismissing the indians to propitiate the nation who had received commission from the president of panama to arm canoes against them. while descending the river, having put some spanish prisoners on deck to deceive the indians, some natives came and brought gold-dust to them, taking them for friends. a few days after this, forty spanish prisoners put ashore at the king's islands, met accidentally with some canoes, and escaped to panama. the french were now again surprised as they had been before, three of the enemy's vessels approaching under cover of an island. by venturing a dangerous passage between the island of tavaguilla and a rock the buccaneers at last obtained the weather-gauge. the fight lasted till noon, and the spaniards were driven off in all attempts at boarding. throwing grenades into the biggest ship, one of them set fire to some loose powder and burnt a great many men; and during this confusion, the adventurers boarded the enemy, who rallied in the stern, and made a vigorous resistance, but at last begged for quarter. the second was also at the same time carried and taken. the third, a kind of galley, pursued by three buccaneer vessels, ran ashore and staved to pieces, few of the crew escaping, not more than a dozen, ringrose thinks. in the frigate eighty men were killed and wounded out of on board. the second ship had only eighteen unhurt out of eighty. all the officers were killed and wounded, and the captain received no less than five musket shots. he was the soldier that had received five wounds resisting them at puebla nueva, and he had also planned the ambuscade at villia. while busily employed in splicing the rigging and throwing the dead overboard, two more sail were seen bearing down from panama. the english instantly put up spanish colours to allure them, and placed the french and english beneath them. as the foe drew near, they received a volley, and, firing hurriedly, at once fled to the frigate which they supposed still theirs. the frigate replied by some grenades, which sent one to the bottom, and the piragua boarded the other, and, finding four packs of halters on board, put all the crew to death in revenge. they had been directed to spare none but the buccaneer surgeons, and to send troops of horse to cut off all that escaped in canoes. on the very next day they took a shallop from panama which the president had sent to pull up an anchor that the adventurers had left in the bay. only one buccaneer was killed in the fight, but captain townley and twenty men were wounded, and most of these died, for the spaniards poisoned their bullets. they now sent a prisoner to the president, demanding his five captives and medicines for the use of his own people. the messenger was also told to complain heavily of the massacre of the three parties at darien. to these remonstrances the officer sent the following answer: "gentlemen, i wonder that you, who should understand how to make war, should require those men of me that are in our custody. your rashness hath something contrary to the civility wherewith you ought to treat those people that were in your power. if you do not use them well, god will perhaps be on our side." to this they returned a threat of beheading all their prisoners without mercy; and having done this, sailed at once to the isles of pericòs, fearing the spanish fire-ships. the bishop of panama, who, they knew, had stirred up the president to war, sent a letter, entreating them to show mercy, saying the president had the king's orders to restore no prisoners, and that the englishmen, having turned roman catholics, did not wish to leave panama. upon this the buccaneers sent the president twenty spaniards' heads in a canoe, threatening to kill all the rest, if the prisoners were not restored by the next day. very early the next morning came the prisoners, four englishmen and one frenchman, with medicines for the wounded, the president leaving to their honour to give as many men as they chose in exchange. they at once sent a dozen of the most wounded on shore, accusing the president of being the murderer of the twenty they had killed, and threatening the death of the rest, unless , pieces of eight were paid for their ransom. the spaniards at first tried to make it only ; but when the buccaneers hung out their main flag, fired a gun, and prepared to enter the port, they hung out a white flag at a bastion, and promised the money shortly. the next day a knight of malta came in a bark with the money, and received the prisoners. while staying at ottoqua to victual their ships, the spaniards landed at night and murdered their indian guides. the day after the french chased a provision vessel to the very guns of panama, when the garrison hoisted the burgundian flag on the bastion, and by mistake fired upon their own vessel, which the buccaneers took. putting nineteen prisoners on shore, they again attempted to surprise villia, but failed, finding all the people in arms, and a reinforcement of men newly come from panama. they next took the town of st. lorenzo, and surprising it at twilight, burnt it. they learned the spaniards had orders to drive away the cattle from the sea-shore, to lay ambuscades, and to obtain from women intelligence of the buccaneers' movements. a dreadful storm which overtook the fleet in the bay of bocca del toro induced lussan, with a naïve philanthropy, to tell his readers: "if you would enter into it with safety, you must keep the whip of your rudder to starboard, because it is dangerous to keep to the east side." while here the same writer gives us the following trait of flibustier manners:--"on the th, being christmas-day, after we had, according to custom, said our prayers in the night, one of our quartermasters being gone ashore in order to take care about our eating some victuals (for our ships being careening all our provisions were then put out), one of our prisoners, who served us as cook, stabbed him with a knife in six several places, wherewith crying out, he was presently relieved, and the assassin punished with death." on the st of january, , leaving their ships in the bay of caldaira, the buccaneers embarked men in canoes and crossed to the island of la cagna. their treacherous guide, under the pretence of hiding them in a covert, led them into a marsh, where the mud, in the soundest places, rose above their middles; five men sinking up to their chins were dragged out with ropes tied to the mangrove branches. the men, anxious for escape, lifted up their guide to the top of a tree, to discover by the moonlight where sound land commenced. but he, once at liberty, skipped like a monkey from tree to tree, railing at them and deriding their helplessness. they spent the whole night in marching a hundred paces round this marsh, and groped out at daybreak, bedaubed from head to toe, with their fire-arms loaded with mud. "when we were in a condition," says lussan, "to reflect a little upon ourselves, and that we saw men in the same habit, all so curiously equipped, there was not one of us who forgot not his toil to laugh at the posture he found both himself and the rest in. inveighing against their guide, they returned to their canoes, and proceeded two leagues up a river to an entrenchment, where they found the remains of two vessels the spaniards had some time before burnt, at the approach of betsharp, an english freebooter. guided by the barking of dogs, they surprised the borough of santa catalina, and, mounting sixty men on horses, entered nicoya and drove out the enemy, carrying off the governor's plate and movables. they found here some letters from the president of panama, describing the doings of "these new turks," how they had landed at places where the sea was so high that no sentinels had been placed, and passed through the woods like wild beasts. the letters stated how much the spaniards had been astonished by the buccaneer mode of attack--"briskly falling on, singing, dancing, as if they had been going to a feast;" they were described also as "those enemies of god and his saints who profane his churches and destroy his servants." in one battle, it says, being blocked up, "they became as mad dogs. whenever these irreligious men set their feet on land they always win the victory." landing at caldaira the sentinels set fire to the savannahs, through which they marched to lesparso, and towards carthage, but retired, hearing of men and an entrenchment. hiding five men in the grass, they captured a spanish trooper, who had reviled them, and putting him to the rack, laughing at his grimaces of pain, heard that grogniet was in the neighbourhood, and soon after they heard cannons fired off, and were joined by him in three canoes. he now told them his adventures at napalla. three sailors, corrupted by the spaniards, who had taken them prisoners, persuaded him on his return to visit a gold mine, fourteen leagues from the sea-shore. they luckily got there before the ambuscade, and took some prisoners and a few pounds of gold, but lbs. weight had been removed an hour before. at their return they found the traitors and prisoners all escaped. he then landed at puebla vieja and attacked an ambuscade and entrenchment of men. half of these fled, half were made prisoners, and their three colours taken, the freebooters losing only three men. eighty-five of his men then determined to visit california, and he and his sixty men to return to panama. grogniet now consented to join in the french expedition, and, after taking queaquilla, to force a way to the north sea. they landed and burnt nicoya a third time, and lussan treats us here with an amusing piece of buccaneer superstition. he says, "though we were _forced_ to chastise the spaniards in this manner, we showed ourselves very exact in the preservation of the churches, into which we carried the pictures and images of the saints which we found in particular houses, that they might not be exposed to the rage and burning of the english, who were not much pleased with these sorts of precautions; they being men that took more satisfaction and pleasure to see one church burnt than all the houses of america put together. but as it was our turn now to be the stronger party, they durst do nothing that derogated from that respect we bore to all those things." on their return the french had to force their way through burning savannahs, but got safe to their ships, putting next day forty prisoners on shore who were too chargeable to keep. a new division now arose between the english and french, and the former insisting on the first prize taken, the two parties again separated, grogniet staying with the former: making in all men, ravenau's party being , in a frigate and long bark. both vessels now tried to outsail each other and reach queaquilla first, but the french, soon finding the english beat them in speed, resolved to accompany them, for they had so little food as to be obliged to eat only once in every forty-eight hours, and but for rain water would have died of thirst. off santa helena, they gave chase to a ship, and found it to be a prize laden with wine and corn, lately taken by captain david's men, for they had been making descents along the coast, at pisca had beaten off men from lima, and had also taken a great many ships, which they pillaged and let go. having got to the value of pieces of eight a man, they sailed for magellan, and on the way many of the men lost all they had by gaming. those who had won joined willnett, and returned to the north sea; but the losers, sixty english and twenty french, joined david, and determined to remain and get more spoil in the south. henry and samms had gone to the east indies. the eight men of david's crew who commanded the prize joined them against queaquilla. furling their sails to prevent being seen, they anchored off the white cape, and at ten in the morning embarked men in their canoes. on the th they reached, at sunset, the rocky island of santa clara, and on the th rested all day, weak from long fasting, in the island of la puna, escaping any detection from the forty sentinels. the th they spent on the same island, and arranged the attack. captain picard and fifty men led the forlorn hope, another captain and eighty grenadiers formed a reserve. captain grogniet and the main body were to make themselves masters of the town and port, and the english captain, george hewit, with fifty men, were to attack the smaller fort; while pieces of eight were promised to the first ensign who should plant the colours on the great fort. they left their covert in the evening, and hoped to reach the town by dawn, but only having three hours of favourable tide, had to remain all day at the island, and at night rowing out, were overtaken after all by the light, when a sentinel seeing them, set a cottage on fire and alarmed his companions. marching across a wood to the fire, they killed two of the spaniards and captured a boy. remaining in covert all day, they thought themselves undiscovered, because the town had not answered the fire signal, and at night they rowed up the river, the rapid current carrying them four leagues in two hours. all the th they spent under cover of an island in the river, and at night went up with the current, not rowing for fear of alarming the sentinels. they attempted in vain to put in beyond the town, on the side least guarded, but the tide going out forced them to land two hours before day, within cannon shot of the town, where they could discern the lights burning, for the spaniards burnt lamps all night. they landed in a marshy place, and had to cut a path through the bushes with their sabres. they soon met with a sentinel, and were discovered by one of the men left to guard the canoes striking a light, against orders, to light his pipe. the sentinel, knowing that this was punishable by death among his countrymen, suspected enemies and discharged a paterero, which the fort answered by a discharge of all their cannon. the buccaneers, overtaken by a storm, entered a large house near to light the matches of their grenades and wait for day, the enemy firing incessantly in defiance. on the th, at daybreak, they marched out in order, with drums beating and colours, and found men waiting for them behind a wall, four feet and a-half high, and a ditch. killing many of the buccaneers at the onset, the enemy ventured to sally out, sword in hand, and were at once put to flight. in spite of the bridge being broken down, the pursuers crossed the ditch, and, getting to the foot of the wall, threw in grenades, and drove the enemy to their houses. driven also from this, they fled to a redoubt in the place d'armes, and from thence, after an hour's fighting, to a third fort, the largest of all. here they defended themselves a long time, firing continually at their enemies, who could not see them for the smoke. from these palisadoes they again sallied, and wounded several buccaneers and took one prisoner. they at last retreated with great loss. the flibustiers, weary with eleven hours' fighting, and finding their powder nearly spent, grew desperate; but, redoubling their efforts, with some loss made themselves masters of the place, having nine men killed and a dozen wounded. parties were then sent out to pursue the fugitives, and a garrison having been put in the great fort, the roman catholic part of the band went to sing _te deum_ in the great church. basil hall describes guayaquil as having on the one side a great marsh, and on the other a great river, while the country, for nearly miles, is a continued level swamp, thickly covered with trees. the river is broad and deep, but full of shoals and strange turnings, the woods growing close to the water's edge, stand close, dark, and still, like two vast black walls; while along the banks the land-breeze blows hot, and breathes death, decay, and putrefaction. the town was walled, and the forts built on an eminence. the houses were built of boards and reared on piles, on account of the frequent inundations. the chief trade of the place was cocoa. the buccaneers took prisoners, including the governor and his family. he himself was wounded, as were most of his officers, who fought better than all the , men of the place. the place was stored with merchandise, precious stones, silver plate, and , pieces of eight. upwards of three millions more had been hidden while the fort was taking. as soon as the canoes had come up, they were sent in pursuit of the treasure, but it was too late. they captured, however, , pieces of eight, and a vermilion gilt eagle, weighing lbs., that had served as the tabernacle for some church. it was of rare workmanship, and the eyes were formed of two great "rocks of emeralds." there were fourteen barks in the port--the galleys they had fought at puebla nueva, and two royal ships unfinished on the stocks. as a ransom for all these things, the governor promised a million pieces of eight in gold, and sacks of corn, requiring the vicar-general to be released to go to quito and procure it. the women of the town, who were very pretty, had been assured by their confessors that the buccaneers were monsters and cannibals, and had conceived a horror and aversion to them. "they could not be dispossessed thereof," says lussan, "till they came to know us better. but then i can boldly say that they entertained quite different sentiments of our persons, and have given us frequent instances of so violent a passion as proceeded sometimes even to a degree of folly." as a proof of the calumnies circulated against the ruthless conquerors, lussan tells us the following:--"it is not from a chance story," he continues, "that i came to know the impressions wrought in these women that we were men that would eat them; for the next day after the taking of the town, a young gentlewoman that waited upon the governor of the place, happened to fall into my hands. as i was carrying her away to the place where the rest of the prisoners were kept, and to that end made her walk before me, she turned back, and, with tears in her eyes, told me, in her own language--'senor, pur l'amor di dios ne mi como'--that is, 'pray, sir, for the love of god, do not eat me;' whereupon i asked her who had told her that we were wont to eat people? she answered, 'the fathers,' who had also assured them that we had not human shape, but that we resembled monkeys." on the st, part of the town was accidentally burnt down by some of the men lighting a fire in a house, and leaving it unextinguished when they returned at night to the court of guard. afraid that it would reach the place where they had stored their powder and merchandise, the french removed all the plunder to their vessels, and carried the prisoners to the fort; but not till all this was done endeavouring to save the town, a third part of which was, by this time, destroyed. afraid the spaniards might now refuse to pay the ransom, they charged them with the offence, threatening to send some fifty prisoners' heads if they did not pay them what they had lost by the fire. the enemy, surprised at this, attributed the incendiarism to traitors, and promised satisfaction. the stench of the dead carcases, still lying unburied up and down the town, now producing a pestilence, the buccaneers dismounted and spiked the cannon, and carried off the prisoners to their ships, anchoring at puna. captain grogniet died of his wounds soon after this removal. the spaniards obtaining four days' further respite, and then still further delaying the ransom, the adventurers made the prisoners throw dice for their lives, and cutting off the heads of four, sent them to queaquilla, threatening further deaths. they were now joined by captain david and a prize he had lately taken. he was planning a descent on paita, to obtain refreshments for some men wounded in a fight with a spanish ship, the catalina, off lima. they fought for two days, david's men, being drunk, constantly getting to leeward, and failing twenty times in an attempt to board. the spaniards, gaining courage from these failures, hoisted the bloody flag; but the third day, david, getting sober, got his tackle and rigging in good order, got properly to windward, and bore down with determination. the enemy in terror ran ashore, and went to pieces in two hours. two men were saved by a canoe, and said that their captain had had his thigh shot off by a cannon ball. david's ship, wanting refitting, was employed to cruise in the bay to prevent surprises from the spaniards. by a letter taken from a courier, they found that the people of queaquilla were only endeavouring to obtain time. the buccaneers spent thirty days on the island of la puna, living on the luxurious food brought from queaquilla, and employing the prisoners with lutes, theorbos, harps, and guitars, to delight them by perpetual concerts and serenades. lussan says, "some of our men grew very familiar with our women prisoners, who, without offering them any violence, were not sparing of their favours, and made appear, as i have already remarked, that after they came once to know us, they did not retain all the aversion for us that had been inculcated into them when we were strangers unto them. all our people were so charmed with this way of living that they forgot their past miseries, and thought no more of danger from the spaniards than if they had been in the middle of paris." ravenau also treats us with his own personal love adventure, which we insert as a curious illustration of the vicissitudes of a south sea adventurer's life. "amongst the rest," he says, "myself had one pretty adventure. among the other prisoners we had a young gentlewoman, lately become a widow of the treasurer of the town, who was slain when it was taken. now this woman appeared so far comforted for her loss, out of an hard-heartedness they have in this country one for another, that she proposed to hide me and herself in some corner of the island till our people were gone, and that then she would bring me to queaquilla to marry her, that she would procure me her husband's office, and vest me in his estate, which was very great. when i had returned her thanks for such obliging offers, i gave her to understand that i was afraid her interest had not the mastery over the spaniards' resentments; and that the wounds they had received from us were yet too fresh and green for them easily to forget them. she went about to cure me of my suspicion, by procuring secretly, from the governor and chief officers, promises under their hands how kindly i should be used by them. i confess i was not a little perplexed herewith, and such pressing testimonies of goodwill and friendship towards me brought me, after a little consultation with myself, into such a quandary, that i did not know which side to close with; nay, i felt myself, at length, much inclined to close with the offers made me, and i had two powerful reasons to induce me thereunto, one of which was the miserable and languishing life we lead in those places, where we were in perpetual hazard of losing it, which i should be freed from by an advantageous offer of a pretty woman and a considerable settlement: the other proceeded from the despair i was in of ever being able to return into my own country, for want of ships fit for that purpose. but when i began to reflect upon these things with a little more leisure and consideration, and that i resolved with myself how little trust was to be given to the promises and faith of so perfidious as well as vindictive a nation as the spaniards, and more especially towards men in our circumstances, by whom they had been so ill-used, this second reflection carried it against the first, and even all the advantages offered me by this lady. but however the matter was, i was resolved, in spite of the grief and tears of this pretty woman, to prefer the continuance of my troubles (with a ray of hope of seeing france again), before the perpetual suspicion i should have had of some treachery designed against me. thus i rejected her proposals, but so as to assure her i should retain, even as long as i lived, a lively remembrance of her affections and good inclinations towards me." after some negotiation with a priest, the people of queaquilla brought in twenty-four sacks of meal, and , pieces of eight in gold. on their refusing more than , pieces of eight more for ransom, a council was held to decide upon putting all the prisoners to death, but at last, ravenau being in the majority, decided to spare them. they then took fifty of the richest prisoners with them to the point of st. helena, and surrendered the rest on , more being paid. while at la puna, the buccaneers sallied out to attack two spanish armadillas, but not having any piraguas to tow them to the windward, could only cannonade at a distance. the french vessels were much shattered, but no man killed. the next day they came to close fight, both sides using small arms and great guns, but no buccaneer was killed. the spaniards lost many men, and the blood ran out of their scupper holes, but they still cried at parting, "a la manana, la partida"--(to-morrow, again.) the next night the buccaneers unrigged and sank one of their prizes, and fitted out another, manning her with twenty frenchmen, who wanted to leave david. the same night four spaniards seized one of the prizes, and escaped to queaquilla. being now within half cannon shot, the rival vessels pounded each other all day; the french had their tackle spoiled, and sails riven, and the frigate received five cannon-shot in the foremast, and three in the mainmast, but had not one man killed or wounded. the next day the spaniards hoisted burgundian colours, and poured in volleys of musket-shot, but neither party boarded. the ensuing day the buccaneer musketry was so destructive, that the spaniards closed their port-holes and bore up to the wind. that day the french received sixty shots in their sides, two-thirds between wind and water, the rigging was torn, and ravenau and another man were wounded. at night the spaniards failed in an attempt to board. we spent this night at anchor, says lussan, to stop our cannons' mouths, which otherwise might have sent us into the deep. to his astonishment, the next morning the armadillas had fled. during these successive days' fighting, the governor and officers of queaquilla had been brought on deck to witness the defeat of their countrymen. they then set their prisoners ashore and divided the plunder, the whole amounting to , pieces of eight, or , , livres, and in shares to pieces of eight a man. the uncoined gold and the precious stones being of uncertain value were sold by auction, that those who had silver and had won in gambling might buy. all who expected an overland expedition were anxious for jewels, as more portable and less heavy than silver. they sought now in their descent for nothing but gold and jewels, quite disregarding silver as a mean metal and heavy to carry. they even left many things in queaquilla, and neglected to send a canoe for the caons of coined silver ( , pieces of eight in all) which had been sent to the opposite river side. taking advantage of their indifference, spanish thieves mixed with the buccaneers, and pillaged their own countrymen. they landed at point mangla, and surprised a watch of fifteen spanish soldiers who had been placed to guard a river abounding in emeralds. a few days after they took a vessel from panama going to porto bello to buy negroes off the point of harina. the french fleet was next attacked by a spanish galley and two piraguas. from a prisoner they heard of frenchmen, who had defeated spaniards and killed their leader in the savannahs. while careening in the bay of mapalla they were joined by these men, who proved to be part of grogniet's men, who had left their companions on the coast of acapulco, refusing to go further towards california. the adventurers next landed in the bay of tecoantepequa, and dispersing a body of spaniards, drawn up upon an eminence, marched inland towards the town, sleeping all night in the open air. nothing but hunger and despair could have induced this attack. the town was intersected by a great and very rapid river, encompassed by eight suburbs, and defended by men. the buccaneers forded the river, the water up to their middles, and after an hour's fighting forced the spaniards from their entrenchment. in two hours these men, enraged with hunger, took the place by hand-to-hand fighting, and eighty sailors then dislodged the enemy from the abbey of st. francis, whose terraces commanded the town. finding the river overflowing and no ransom coming, the buccaneers departed the next day, and landing at vatulco, took the old governor of merida prisoner, and obtained some provisions. they also landed at muemeluna and victualled, the spaniards having strong entrenchments, but making little resistance. they found upon the shore the musket and dead body of a sailor of a frigate that had attempted to land a month before. the spaniards had not seen the body, or they would have cut in pieces or burnt it, as they were in the habit of even digging up the buccaneers buried on their shores. at sansonnat they landed in the face of spaniards to fill their water-casks, being faint from thirst. one of the men, more impatient than the rest, and goaded by four days' drought, swam ashore and was drowned, without any being able to help him. they now held serious councils about the return by land. the prisoners declared their best way was by segovia, where they would _only_ meet or spaniards, and that the way was easy for the sick and wounded. the french determined to land and obtain more certain information, and this was one of the most daring of their adventures. they landed seventy men, and marched two days without meeting anybody, upon which eighteen, less weary than the rest, tramped on and soon got into a high road. capturing three horsemen, they learnt that they were but a quarter of a league distant from chiloteca, a little town with about white inhabitants, besides negroes, indians, and mulattoes, who were not aware of their approach. afraid to waste time in running back after their companions, they entered the town, frightened the spaniards, and took the teniente and fifty others prisoners. had there not been horses ready mounted, on which they made their escape, the enemy would, every man, have submitted to be bound, being overcome with a panic fear, and believing the enemy very numerous. they learned from the prisoners that the panama galley lay waiting for them at caldaira, and the _st. lorenzo_, with thirty guns, at realegua. they also said that men would be in the town by the next day. the spaniards now began to rally, and compelled the buccaneers to entrench themselves in the church. the prisoners, seeing them hurry in, and thinking them hard pressed, ran to a pile of arms and prepared to make a resistance; but the buccaneers, retreating to the doors, fired at the crowd till only four men and their wives were left alive. they then mounted horses and retreated, carrying off four prisoners of each sex, and firing at a herald who tried to parley. joining their companions, whom they found resting at a hatto, they made a stand and drove back spaniards. the statements of the prisoners increased their fears of the overland route, but determining rather to die sword in hand than to pine away with hunger, they at once resolved upon their design. running all the vessels ashore but the galley and piraguas, which would take them from the island to the mainland, leaving no other means of escape to the timorous, they formed four companies of seventy men, choosing ten men from each as a forlorn hope, to be relieved every morning. those who were lamed were to have, as formerly, pieces of eight, the horses were to be kept for the crippled and wounded. the stragglers who were wounded were to have no reward, whilst violence, cowardice, and drunkenness were to be punished. while maturing their plans, a spanish vessel approached, and anchoring, began to fire at the grounded vessels, and soon put them out of a condition to sail. afraid of losing their piraguas, the buccaneers sent their prisoners and baggage to some flats behind the island. the next day, the frenchmen, sheltering themselves behind the rocks that ran out to the sea, kept the vessel at a distance; but now afraid of total destruction, the buccaneers sent men to the continent at night to secure horses, and wait for them at a certain port. on the next day, the spanish ship took fire, and put out to sea to extinguish the flames. the next day the buccaneers escaped by a stratagem. having spent the whole night in hammering the vessel, as if careening, to prevent all suspicion of their departure, they charged all their guns, grenades, and four pieces of cannon, and tied to them pieces of lighted matches of various lengths, in order to keep up an alarm throughout the night. in the twilight they departed as secretly as they could, the prisoners carrying the surgeons' medicines, the carpenters' tools, and the wounded men. on the st of january, , the buccaneers arrived on the continent. on the evening of the same day the men joined them with sixty-eight horses and several prisoners, all of whom dissuaded them in vain from attempting to go by segovia, where the spaniards were fully alarmed. the men, nothing deterred, packed up each his charge, and thrust their silver and ammunition into bags. those who had too much to carry, gave it to those who had lost theirs by gaming, promising them half "in case it should please god to bring them safe to the north sea." ravenau de lussan tells us his charge was lighter but not less valuable than the others, as he had converted , pieces of eight into pearls and precious stones. "but as the best part of this," he says, "was the product of luck i had at play, some of those who had been losers, as well in playing against me as others, becoming much discontented at their losses, plotted together to the number of seventeen or eighteen, to murder those who were richest amongst us. i was so happy as to be timely advertised of it by some friends, which did not a little disquiet my mind, for it was a very difficult task for a man, during so long a journey, to be able to secure himself from being surprised by those who were continually in the same company, and with whom we must eat, drink, and sleep, and who could cut off whom they pleased of us in the conflicts they might have with the spaniards, by shooting us in the hurry." to frustrate this scheme, ravenau therefore divided his treasure among several men, and by this means removed a weight both from his mind and body. on the nd of january, after having said prayers and sunk their boats, the buccaneers set out, resting at noon at a hatto. on the th they lay on a mountain plateau, the spaniards visible on their flanks and rear. on the th the barricades began, and on the th, at an estantia, they found the following letter lying on a bed in the hall: "we are very glad that you have made choice of our province for your passage homewards, but are sorry you are not better laden with silver; however, if you have occasion for mules we will send them to you. we hope to have the french general grogniet very quickly in our power, so we will leave you to judge what will become of his soldiers." on the th the vanguard drove off an ambuscade, and lay that evening in a hatto. the spaniards burnt all the provisions in the way, and set fire to the savannahs to windward, stifling the french horses with smoke and scaring them with the blaze. while their march was thus retarded and they waited for the fire to burn out, the enemy threw up intrenchments and erected barricades of trees. on the th the french set fire to a house at a sugar plantation, and, hiding till the spaniards came to put it out, captured a prisoner, who told them that auxiliaries were on the march to meet them. "these men," says lussan, "were our continual guard, for they gave us morning and evening the diversion of their trumpets, but it was like the _music of the enchanted palace of psyche_, who heard it without seeing the musicians, for ours marched on each side of us, in places so covered with pine trees that it was impossible to perceive them." during this march the buccaneers never encamped but upon high ground, or in the open savannah, for fear of being hemmed in. the advanced guard was now strengthened by forty men, who discharged their muskets at the entries and avenues of woods, to dislodge the ambuscades, but they did not shoot when the plain was open and free from wood; although the spaniards, who were lying on their bellies on each side of them, opened their fire and killed two stragglers. on the th they repulsed an ambuscade and captured some horses. on the th they dispersed another ambuscade, and entered segovia, but all the provisions had been burnt, and the spaniards fired upon them from among the pine trees that grew on the hills around the town. fortunately at this spot, where the old guides grew uncertain of the way, they captured a new prisoner, who led them twenty leagues to the river they were in search of. the road now grew wilder, and dangers thickened around them. they had to creep with great danger to the tops of great mountains, or to bury themselves in narrow and dark valleys. the cold grew intense, and the fogs lasted for some hours after daybreak. in the plains no chill was felt, but the same heat that prevailed on the mountains after noon. "but," says lussan, "the hopes of getting once more into our native country made us endure patiently all these toils, and served as so many wings to carry us." on the th, they ascended several mountains, and had incredible trouble to clear the road of the spanish barricades, and all night long the enemy fired into their camp. on the th, an hour before sunrise, they ascended an eminence which seemed advantageous for an encampment, and saw on the edge of an eminence, separated from them by a narrow valley, what they believed to be cattle feeding. rejoiced at the prospect of food, forty men were sent to reconnoitre. they returned with the dismal intelligence that the supposed oxen were really troopers' horses ready saddled, and that the mountain on which they stood was encircled by three intrenchments, rising one above another, commanding a stream that ran through the valley. they had no other way but this to pass, and there was no possibility of avoiding it. they added, that one of the spaniards had seen them, and shook his naked cutlass at them from a distance. every man's heart fell at this news, and their pining appetite sickened at the loss of its expected meal. there was no time for delay, for the spaniards from the adjacent provinces were gathering in their rear, and if any time was lost they must be surrounded and overpowered by numbers. ravenau de lussan, the xenophon of this retreat, did not attempt to conceal the extent of the danger. he confesses himself that they were hard put to it, and that escape would have seemed impossible to any other men but to those who had been hitherto successful in almost every undertaking. he addressed his companions, and artfully persuaded them to agree to his plans, by first elaborating the extent of their difficulties. he said that , men could not force their way through such intrenchments, guarded by so many men as the spaniards had, judging from the number of their horses. nor could they pass by the side of it, with all their horses and baggage, seeing that the path could only be entered in single file. except the road, all was a thick, pathless forest, full of quagmires, and encumbered by fallen trees; and even if these impediments were passed, the spaniards would have still to be fought with. the buccaneers agreed to these as truisms, but cried out that it was to no purpose to talk of difficulties so apparent, without proposing some method of surmounting them, and suggesting some means for its execution. upon this hint de lussan spoke. he proposed to cross those woods, precipices, mountains, and rocks, how inaccessible soever they seemed, and gaining the weather-gauge of the enemy, take them at once in the rear, suddenly and unexpectedly. the success of this plan he would answer for at the peril of his life. the prisoners, horses, and baggage he resolved to leave guarded by eighty men, to keep off the spaniards who hovered around them at day and at night, encamped at a musket-shot distance. these eighty men could answer for four times as many spaniards. after some deliberation, de lussan's plan was agreed to, and the execution at once resolved upon. examining the mountain carefully with the keen eyes of both hunters and sailors, they could see a road winding along the side of the mountain, above the highest intrenchment. this they could only trace here and there by light spots visible between the trees, but once across this they were safe. full of hope, and with every faculty aroused, some of the men were sent to a spot higher than the main body, to cover another party who had on previous occasions proved themselves ingenious and expert, and who were sent to pick out the safest and most direct spots by which they could get in the rear of the enemy before day broke. as soon as these scouts returned the men made ready for their departure, leaving their baggage guarded by eighty men. to prevent suspicion, the officer in command had orders to make every sentinel he set or relieved in the night-time fire his fusil and to beat his drum at the usual hour. he was told that if god gave them the victory they would send a party to bring him off, but that if an hour after all firing ceased they saw no messenger, they were to provide for their own safety. the immediate narrative of this wonderful escape we give in de lussan's own words:--"things being thus disposed," he says, "we said our prayers as low as we could, that the spaniards might not hear us, from whom we were separated but by the valley. at the same time, we set forward to the number of men by moonlight, it being now an hour within night; and about one more after our departure we heard the spaniards also at their prayers, who, knowing we were encamped very near them, fired about muskets in the air to frighten us. besides, they also made a discharge at all the responses of the litany which they sang. we still pursued our march, and spent the whole night (in going down and then getting up) to advance half a-quarter of a league, which was the distance between them and us, through a country, as i have already said, so full of rocks, mountains, woods, and frightful precipices, that our posteriors and knees were of more use to us than our legs, it being impossible for us to travel thither otherwise. on the th, by break of day, as we got over the most dangerous parts of this passage, and had already seized upon a considerable ascent of the mountain by clambering up in great silence, and leaving the spaniards' retrenchments to our left, we saw their party that went the rounds, who, thanks to the fogs, did not discover us. as soon as they were gone by, we went directly to the place where we saw them, and found it to be exactly the road we were minded to seize on. when we had made a halt for about half an hour to take breath, and that we had a little daylight to facilitate our march, we followed this road by the voice of the spaniards, who were at their morning prayers, and we were but just beginning our march, when, unfortunately, we met with two out-sentinels, on whom we were forced to fire, and this gave the spaniards notice, who thought of nothing less than to see us come down from above them upon their intrenchments, since they expected us no other way than from below; so that those who had the guard thereof, and were in number about men, finding themselves on the outside, when they thought they had been within, and consequently open without any covert, took the alarm so hot, that falling all on them at the same time, we made them quit the place in a moment, and make their escape by the favour of the fog." the sequel is soon told. the defenders of the two first lines of wall drew up outside the lowermost, the buccaneers firing at them for an hour under cover of the first intrenchment. but finding they gave no ground, and thinking the fog interfered with the aim, the french rushed forward and fell upon them with the butt ends of their muskets, till they fled headlong down the narrow road. here they got entangled in their own impediments, and the buccaneers, commanding the road from the redoubt, killed an enemy at every shot. weary at last of running and killing, the french returned to the intrenchments and drove off the spaniards, who had now rallied, and were attacking the garrison. the pursuit ceased only from the fatigue of the conquerors and their weariness of slaughter. the spaniards neither gave nor took quarter, and were saved in spite of themselves. de lussan says, either from pride or a natural fierceness of temper, the spanish soldiers, before an engagement, frequently took an oath to their commander neither to give nor receive quarter. the buccaneers, struck with compassion at the quantity of blood running into the rivulet, spared the survivors, and returned a second time into the intrenchment with only one man killed and two wounded. the spaniards lost their general, a brave old walloon officer, who had given them the plan of their intrenchment. it was only at the solicitation of another commander that the rounds had been set, and the sentinels placed at the top of the mountain. the general had consented, but said there was no danger if the french were only men. it would take them eight days to climb up, and if they were devils, no intrenchment could keep them out. in his pocket were found letters from the governor of costa rica, who had intended to send him men, but the walloon asked for only . he advised him to take care of his soldiers, as no glory could be gained by such a victory. the letter concluded thus:--"take good measures, for those devils have a cunning and subtlety that is not in use amongst us. when you find them advance within the shot of your arquebuses, let not your men fire but by twenties, to the end your firing may not be in vain; and when you find them weakened, raise a shout to frighten them, and fall on with your swords, while don rodrigo attacks them in the rear. i hope god will favour our designs, since they are no other than for his glory, and the destruction of these new sort of turks. hearten up your men, though they may have enough of that according to your example they shall be rewarded in heaven, and if they get the better, they will have gold and silver enough wherewith these thieves are laden." having sung a _te deum_ of thankfulness to god, ravenau de lussan mounted sixty men upon horseback, as he words it, "to give notice to our other people of the success the almighty was pleased to give us." they found them about to attack the spaniards, who seeing the night-march the main body had made, and believing them defeated at the intrenchments, had sent an officer to parley with the residue. he told them that the spaniards were lying ready to surround their troops, but promised them good terms if they surrendered; saying that, by the intercessions of the almoner, and for the honour of the holy sacrament and glorious virgin, they had spared all the prisoners they had hitherto taken. the buccaneers, somewhat intimidated at these threats, took heart when they saw their companions coming, and returned the following fierce answer: "though you had force enough to destroy two-thirds of our number, we should not fail to fight with the remaining part; yea, though there were but one man of us left, he should fight against you all. when we put ashore and left the south sea, we all resolved to pass through your country or die in the attempt; and though there were as many spaniards as there are blades of grass in the savannah, we should not be afraid, but would go on and go where we will in spite of your teeth." the officer at ravenau's arrival was just being dismissed, and seeing the new allies were booted and mounted on spanish horses, he shrugged up his shoulders and rode back as fast as he could to his comrades, who were not more than a musket-shot off upon a small eminence commanding the camp, to tell them the news. as soon almost as he could get to them, the buccaneers advanced with pistols and cutlasses, and without firing fell on them and cut many to pieces before they could mount, but let the rest go, detaining their horses. they then, with the loss of one killed and two maimed, rejoined the main body at the intrenchments. the enemy now lit a fire upon the top of a neighbouring mountain to collect the scattered troops, in order to defend an intrenchment six leagues distant; but the buccaneers lying in wait cut off their passage, then hamstringing horses, took others to kill and salt when they arrived at the river. on the th they passed the intrenchment unfinished and undefended, and on the th day came very joyfully to the long desired river. immediately they entered into the woods that covered the banks, and fell to work in good earnest to cut down trees and build "piperies," or rafts. these were made of four or five trunks of the mahot trees, a light buoyant wood, which they first barked and then bound together with parasite creepers, which were tough and of great length. two men, generally standing upright, guided each of these frail barks, the decks sunk two or three feet under water. they were built purposely narrow, to be able to thread the rocky passes of the river even then in sight. these rafts were dragged to the river-side and then launched, the boatmen having furnished themselves with long poles to push them off the rocks, against which they were sure the current would drive them. de lussan, who never exaggerates a danger, cannot find words to express the terrors of this stream. "it springs," he says, "in the mountains of segovia, and discharges itself into the north sea at cape gracias à dios, after having run a long way, in a most rapid manner, across a vast number of rocks of a prodigious bigness, and by the most frightful precipices that can be thought of, besides a great many falls of water, to the number of at least a hundred of all sorts, which it is impossible for a man to look on without trembling, and making the head of the most fearless to turn round, when he sees and hears the waters fall from such a height into those tremendous whirlpools." to this dangerous river and its merciless falls, these way-worn men trusted themselves on frail rafts, and sank up to their middles in water. sometimes they were hurried, in spite of all their resistance, into boiling pools, where they were buried with their rafts in the darkness beneath the foam, at others drifted under rocks and against fallen trees. some tied themselves to their barks. "as for those great falls," says lussan, "they had, to our good fortunes, at their entrances and goings out, great basins of still water, which gave us the opportunity to get upon the banks of the river, and draw our piperies ashore to take off those things we had laid on them, which were as wet as we were. these we carried with us, leaping from rock to rock, till we came to the end of the fall, from whence one of us afterwards returned to put our pipery into the water, and let her swim along to him who waited for her below. but if he failed to catch hold (by swimming) of those pieces of wood before they got out of the basin below, the violence of the stream would carry them away to rights, and the men were necessitated to go and pick out trees to make another." the rafts at first went all together for the sake of mutual assistance; but at the end of three days, finding this dangerous, ravenau de lussan advised their going in a line apart, so that, if any were carried against the rocks, they might get off before the next pipery arrived, which at first occasioned many disasters. de lussan, being himself cast away, found much safety in this plan; for, uncording his raft, he straddled upon one piece and his companion upon another, and floated down, till, reaching a place less rapid, they got on land and reconstructed the raft. by his advice, those who went first put up flags at the end of long poles, to give notice on which side to land, not to signal the falls, for their roar could be clearly heard a league off. during all these dangers the men lived on the bananas that they found growing by the river side, some of which the indians had sown, and others floated down and self-planted during the inundations. the horse-flesh they had brought the water had spoiled, compelling them to throw it away after two days; and although game abounded on the land, they could kill none, for their arms were continually wet and their ammunition all damaged. it was at this crisis the conspirators we have before mentioned chose to carry out their cruel plot. hiding behind some rocks, they killed and plundered five englishmen, who were known to be rich. lussan whose raft came last of all, and followed the english float, found their bodies, and thanked god he had given others his treasure to carry. when the buccaneers were all met together, lower down the river, lussan told them of the murder, of which they had not heard, but the murderers were seen no more. on the th of february the river grew wider, slower, and deeper, the falls ceased, but the stream was encumbered with trees and bamboos, drifted together by the floods. these snags frequently overturned the rafts, but the water being, though deeper, much slower, none were drowned. some leagues further, the stream became gentle and free from all impediment, and they determined for the next sixty leagues to the sea to build canoes. dividing themselves into parties of sixty men, they landed and cut down mapou trees, and, working with wonderful diligence, built four canoes by the first of march. leaving men still working, embarked, eager for home, ease, and rest. the english, too impatient to make canoes, had long since reached the sea-shore in their piperies. they here met a jamaica boat lying at anchor, and attempted to persuade the captain to return, and obtain leave for them to land, as they had no commission. the captain refused to go without receiving £ in advance, which they could not afford, as many of them had lost all by the upsetting of the piperies. the sailors, therefore, resolved to remain with the friendly mosquito indians, who dwelt about the mouth of this river, and to whom they had often brought trinkets from jamaica. the english, unable to buy the boat, determined to send word to the french, hoping to get to st. domingo by their aid. two mosquito indians were despatched in a canoe, forty leagues up the river, to bring down forty frenchmen, as the vessel was small and short of provision, and could not hold more. but, in spite of all this, , instead of forty, hurried down to get on board, waiting five days for the ship that had gone to the isle of pearls. great was the delight of the french to pass cape gracias à dios, and enter the north sea. the mulattoes that lived on this cape, lussan says, were descended from the crew of a negro vessel, lost on a shoal. they slept in holes dug in the sand, to avoid the mosquitoes, which stung them till they appeared like lepers. lussan speaks much of the fiery darts of this mischievous insect. he says, "it is no small pain to be attacked with them, for, besides that they caused us to lose our rest at night, it was then that we were forced to go naked for want of shirts, when the troublesomeness of these animals made us run into despair and such a rage as set us beside ourselves." at last the longed-for vessel arrived, and, regardless of lots that had been drawn, fifty of the more vigilant, including lussan, crowded in, one on the top of the other, and instantly weighed anchor, engaging the master for forty pieces of eight a head to take them to st. domingo, afraid of venturing to jamaica. at cuba they landed, and surprising some hunters, compelled them to sell them food, uncertain whether france and spain were at war or peace. on the th of april they rode at anchor at petit guaves, hoping to hear news from france. de lussan relates a curious instance here of the effect of habit and instinctive imagination. "there were some of our people," he says, "so infatuated with the long miseries we had suffered, that they thought of nothing else but the spaniards, insomuch that, when from the deck they saw some horsemen riding along the sea-side, they flew to arms to fire upon them, as imagining they were enemies, though we assured them we were now come among those of our own nation." de lussan, at once going on shore, demanded of mons. dumas, the king's lieutenant, in the governor mons. de cussy's absence, indemnity and protection, by favour of an amnesty granted by the french king to those who, in remote places, had continued to make war on the spaniards, not hearing of the peace that had been concluded between the two nations. de lussan relates with much unpretending pathos the feelings of himself and his ulyssean friends upon once more landing in a friendly country. "when we all were got ashore," he says, "to a people that spoke french, we could not forbear shedding tears for joy that, after we had run so many hazards, dangers, and perils, it had pleased the almighty maker of the earth and seas to grant a deliverance, and bring us back to those of our own nation, that at length we may return without any more ado to our own country; whereunto i cannot but further add, that, for my own part, i had so little hopes of ever getting back, that i could not, for the space of fifteen days, take my return for any other than an illusion, and it proceeded so far with me, that i shunned sleep, for fear when i awaked i should find myself again in those countries out of which i was now safely delivered." from the preface to de lussan's book, we learn that he returned to dieppe, with letters of introduction from de cussy, the governor of tortuga and st. domingo, to mons. de lubert, treasurer-general of marine in france. of the end of this brave man we know nothing. he had many requisites for a great general. chapter ii. the last of the buccaneers. sieur de montauban--wonderful escape from an explosion--life in africa--laurence de graff--his victories--enters french service--treachery--buccaneers join in french expedition and take carthagena--buccaneer sharpshooters--treachery of french--buccaneers return and retake the city--captured in return by english and dutch fleets-- --buccaneers wrecked with french--grammont takes santiago--sacks maracaibo, gibraltar, and torilla--lands at cumana--enters french service--lost in his last cruise. of all the motley characters of buccaneer history, montauban appears one of the most extraordinary. his friends describe him to have been as prudent as he was brave, blunt and sincere, relating his own adventures with a free and generous air that convinced the hearer of their truth, and at last consenting to write his story, not from ostentation, but from the simple desire of giving a french minister of state a narrative of his campaigns. he is interesting to us as the latest known buccaneer, and in strict parlance he can scarcely be classed as a buccaneer at all, attacking the english as he did more than the spanish, and not confining his cruises to the spanish main. he begins his book with great _naïveté_ thus: "since i have so often felt the malignant influence of those stars that preside over the seas, and by an adverse fortune lost all that wealth which with so much care and trouble i had amassed together, i should take no manner of pleasure in this place to call to mind the misfortunes that befel me before the conclusion of the last campaign, had not a desire of serving still both the public and particular persons, as well as to let his majesty know the affection and weddedness i have always had for his service, made me take pen in hand to give mons. de phelipeaux an account of such observations as i have made; wherein he may also find with what eagerness i have penetrated to the remotest colonies of our enemies, in order to destroy them and ruin their trade. i was not willing to swell up this relation with an account of all the voyages i have made, and all the particular adventures that have befallen me on the coasts of new spain, carthagena, mexico, florida, and cape verd, which last place i had been at twenty years ago, having begun to use the seas at the age of sixteen." he goes on to say that he will not stop to relate how, in , in a ship called the _machine_, he ravaged the coasts of new guinea, and, entering the great serelion, took a fort from the english and split twenty-four pieces of cannon, but will confine himself simply to his last voyage; "some information," he says, "having been given thereof, by the noise made in france and elsewhere of the burning my ship, and the terrible crack it made in the air." in the year , having ravaged the coast of caracca, he went towards st. croix, to watch for some merchant ships and a fleet expected from barbadoes and nevis, bound for england. sailing towards the bermudas, expecting good booty, he saw them coming towards him without any apprehension of danger. he at once attacked the convoy (_the wolf_), and took her and two merchant ships laden with sugar, the rest escaping during the fight. returning with his prizes to france, he captured an english ship of sixteen guns from spain and bound for england, which surrendered after a short fight. this last vessel he took to rochelle and sold it, the admiralty declaring it good prize; the last he took to bordeaux and sold to the merchants. here abandoning themselves to pleasure after a long abstinence, many of his men deserted him, and he supplied their place with youths from the town, who soon became as expert as veterans. "i made it," he says, "my continual care and business to teach my men to shoot, and my so frequent exercising of them rendered them in a short time as capable of shooting and handling their arms as the oldest sea freebooters, or the best fowlers by land." re-victualling his ship, that carried only thirty-four guns, he left bordeaux in february, , to cruise on the coast of guinea. from the azores he passed the canary islands, and sailed for fourteen days in sight of teneriffe, in hopes of meeting some dutch vessels, that after all escaped him, and at the cape de verd islands he pursued two english interlopers of thirty guns each, who left behind in the roads their anchors and shallops. he then went in search of a dutch guard-ship, of thirty-four guns, along the neighbouring coast. decoying the foe by showing dutch colours, he waited till he got within cannon shot, hoisting the french flag, gave her a signal to strike, and then exchanged broadsides. they fought from early morning till four in the afternoon, without montauban being able to get the weather-gauge, or approach near enough to use his chief arms--his fusils. taking advantage of a favourable wind, the dutchman then anchored under the fort of the cape of three-points, where two other dutch men-of-war lay, one of fourteen and the other of twenty-eight guns. thinking the three vessels had leagued to fight him, montauban anchored within a league of the shore, hoping to provoke them out by continued insults, but the guard-ship, already much mauled, would not move. this vessel, he found afterwards, had driven away a french flute. at cape st. john he took with little difficulty an english ship of twenty guns, carrying negroes, and much wax and elephants' teeth. the english captain had killed some of his blacks in a mutiny, and others had escaped in the shallop, which they stole. at prince's isle he took a small bradenburg caper (a pirate), mounted with eight pieces of cannon, and carrying sixty men. he then put into port to careen, and sent his prize to st. domingo to be condemned and sold, putting the sieur de nave and a crew on board, but the ship was taken by some english men-of-war before little goara. to keep his men employed during the careening, montauban fitted up the caper, and with ninety men cruised for six weeks without success, and, then putting into the isle of st. thomas, trucked the prize for provisions, and started for the coasts of angola, hearing that three english men-of-war and a fire-ship were fitting out against him at guinea. on his way he chased a dutch interloper, laden with pounds of gold dust, but she ran ashore on the isle of st. omer and fell to pieces. when approaching the coasts of angola, and not far from the port of cabinda, he saw an english vessel of fifty-four guns bearing down upon him. to decoy her montauban hung out dutch colours, while the english fired guns, as a signal of friendship. the frenchman, pretending to wait, sailed slow, as if heavy laden or encumbered for want of sails and men. "we kept in this manner," writes the privateersman, "from break of day till ten in the forenoon. he gave me a gun from time to time without ball, to assure me of what he was, but finding at last i did not answer him on my part in the same manner, he gave me one again with ball, which made me presently put up french colours, and answer him with another. hereupon the english captain, without any more ado, gave me two broadsides, which i received without returning him one again, though he had killed me seven men; for i was in hopes, if i could have got something nearer to him, to put him out of condition ever to get away from me. i endeavoured to come within a fusil shot of him and was desirous to give him an opportunity to show his courage in boarding me, since i could not so well do the same by him, as being to the leeward. at last being come by degrees nearer, and finding him within the reach of my fusils, which for that end i kept concealed upon the deck from his sight, they were discharged upon him, and my men continued to make so great a fire with them, that the enemy on their part began quickly to flag. in the mean time, as their ship's crew consisted of above men and that they saw their cannon could not do their work for them, they resolved to board us, which they did with a great shout and terrible threatenings of giving no quarter, if we did not surrender. their grappling-irons failing to catch the stern of my ship, made theirs run in such a manner, that their stern ran upon my boltsprit and broke it. having observed my enemy thus encumbered, my men plied them briskly with their small shot, and made so terrible a fire upon them for an hour and a-half, that being unable to resist any longer, and having lost a great many men, they left the sport and ran down between decks, and i saw them presently after make signals with their hats of crying out for quarter. i caused my men therefore to give over their firing, and commanded the english to embark in their shallops and come on board of me, while i made some of my crew at the same time leap into the enemy's ship and seize her, and so prevent any surprise from them. i already rejoiced within myself for the taking of such a considerable prize, and so much the more in that i hoped that after having taken this vessel, that was the guard-ship of angola, and the largest the english had in those seas, i should find myself in a condition still to take better prizes, and attack any man-of-war i should meet with. my ship's crew were also as joyful as myself, and did the work they were engaged in with a great deal of pleasure; but the enemy's powder suddenly taking fire, by the means of a match the captain had left burning on purpose, as hoping he might escape with his two shallops, blew both the ships into the air, _and made the most horrible crack that was ever heard_. it is impossible to set forth this horrid spectacle to the life; the spectators themselves were the actors of this bloody scene, _not knowing whether they saw it or not_, and not being able to judge of that which themselves felt. wherefore leaving the reader to imagine the horror which the blowing up of two ships above fathoms into the air must work in us, where there was formed as it were a mountain of water, fire, wreck of the ships, cordages, cannon, men, and a most horrible clap made, what with the cannon that went off in the air, and the waves of the sea that were tossed up thither, to which we may add the cracking of masts and boards, the rending of the sails and ropes, the cries of men, and the breaking of bones--i say, leaving these things to the imagination of the reader, i shall only take notice of what befell myself, and by what good fortune it was that i escaped. "when the fire first began i was upon the fore-deck of my own ship, where i gave the necessary orders. now i was carried up on part of the said deck so high, that i fancy it was the height alone prevented my being involved in the wreck of the ships, where i must infallibly have perished, and been cut into a thousand pieces. i fell back into the sea (_you may be sure giddy-headed enough_), and continued a long time under water, without being able to get up to the surface of it. at last falling into a debate with the water, as a person who was afraid of being drowned, i got upon the face of it, and laid hold of a broken piece of a mast that i found near. i called to some of my men whom i saw swimming round about me, and exhorted them to take courage, hoping we might yet save our lives, if we could light upon any one of our shallops. but what afflicted me more than my very misfortune, was to see two half bodies, who had still somewhat of life remaining in them, from time to time mount up to the face of the water, and leave the place where they remained all dyed with blood. it was also much the same thing to see round about a vast number of members and scattered parts of men's bodies, and most of them spitted upon splinters of wood. at last one of my men, having met with a whole shallop among all the wreck, that swam up and down upon the water, came to tell me that we must endeavour to stop some holes therein, and to take out the canoe that lay on board her. "we got, to the number of fifteen or sixteen of us who had escaped, near unto this shallop, every man upon his piece of wood, and took the pains to loosen our canoe, which at length we effected. we went all on board her, and after we had got in saved our chief gunner, who in the fight had had his leg broke. we took up three or four oars, or pieces of board, which served us to that purpose, and when we had done that we sought out for somewhat to make a sail and a little mast, and, having fitted up all things as well as we possibly could, committed ourselves to the divine providence, who alone could give us life and deliverance. as soon as i had done working i found myself all over besmeared with blood, that ran from a wound i had received on my head at the time of my fall. we made some lint out of my handkerchief, and a fillet to bind it withal out of my shirt, after i had first washed the wound with urine. the same thing was done to the rest that had been wounded, and our shallop in the meanwhile sailed along without our knowing where we were going, and, what was still more sad, without victuals, and we had already spent three days without either eating or drinking. one of our men, being greatly afflicted with hunger and thirst at the same time, drank so much salt water that he died of it." most of the men vomited continually, montauban's body swelled, and he was finally cured of his dropsy by a quartan-ague. all his hair and one side of his face and body were burnt with powder, and he bled as "bombardiers do at sea," at the nose, ears, and mouth. but this was no time, he says manfully, for a consultation of physicians, while they were dying of hunger, so leaving the english, they forced their way over the bar of carthersna, an adverse wind preventing their landing at the port of cabinda. here they found some oysters sticking to the trees that grew round a pond, and opening them with their clasp knives, which they lent, montauban says, "charitably and readily to each other," they made a lusty meal. having spent two days there, they divided into three small companies, and went up the country, but could find no houses, and see nothing but herds of buffaloes that fled from them. on reaching cape corsa they found negroes assembled to furnish ships with wood and water in exchange for brandy, knives, and hatchets. montauban, who had often traded in these parts, knew several of the natives, and tried to make them believe he was the man he represented; but disfigured as he was by his late misfortune, they considered him an impostor. in their own language he told them he was dying of famine, but could get nothing but a few bananas to eat. he then desired them to carry him and his men to prince thomas, the son to the king of that country, upon whom he had conferred many favours. but the prince refused to recognize him, till he showed him the scar of a wound in his thigh which he had once seen when they bathed together. on seeing this the prince rose and embraced him; commanded victuals to be given to his men; expressed his sorrow for their misfortunes; and quartered them among his negro lords. montauban he kept at his own expense, and made him eat at his own table. in a few days he took him some leagues up the country in a canoe, to see the king his father, who ruled over a village of huts among the marshes. the high priest was just dead, and during the funeral ceremonies, lasting for seven days, montauban was regaled with elephant's flesh. the king he found surrounded by women, and guarded by negroes armed with lances and fusils. flags, trumpets, and drums preceded this monarch of a realm of hunters, who was himself clothed in a robe of white and blue striped cotton. the black prince shook the french captain by the hand, being the first man whose hand he had ever thus honoured. he asked many questions about his brother of france, and when he heard that he sometimes waged war with england and holland singlehanded, and sometimes with germany and spain, the king expressed himself pleased, and, calling for palm wine, said he would drink the french king's health, and as he drank the drums and trumpets sounded, just as they do in hamlet, and the negro guard discharged their pieces. prince thomas then asked the name of the french king who was so powerful, and being told it was louis le grand, declared he would give that name to his son, who was about to be baptised, and that montauban should be godfather. he also expressed his hope that at some future voyage montauban would carry the child to france, and present him to the brother monarch, and have him brought up in that country. "assure him," said the same prince, "that i am his friend, and that if he has occasion for my service, i will go myself into france, with all the lances and fusils belonging to the king my father." the king said, if need were he would go himself in person. at this generous promise the guard discharged their muskets frantically, and the men and women shouted their admiration. the drums and trumpets went to it again, and the spearmen ran from one side to the other, uttering horrible cries, sounding like pain, but expressive of joy. then the glasses went round faster, and the ceremony concluded by the negro king presenting montauban with two cakes of wax. the white men now rose in public estimation. whenever they stirred out, they were followed by crowds of negroes bringing presents of fruits and buffalo flesh, never having seen a white face before, and generally supposing the devil to be of that colour. sable philosophers begged to be allowed to scrape their skin with knives, till the king issued an edict forbidding any one, under pain, scraping or rubbing the strangers. the baptism passed off with great _éclat_. there being no priest in the town who knew how to baptize, or remembered the words of the service, a priest was procured from a portuguese ship lying at the cape. the freebooter speaks with much unction of his sponsorship. "i did it with so much the more pleasure," quoth he, "in that i was helping to make a christian and sanctify a soul." a few days after this ceremony, which afforded so much satisfaction to montauban's tender conscience, he determined to embark on board an english ship lying at the cape; but the black king would not have him trust himself into the hands of his enemies, and soon after he set sail in a portuguese vessel that arrived to barter iron, arms, and brandy, for ivory, wax, and negroes. two of his men, who had strayed up the country, he left behind. the portuguese captain turned out to be an old friend, and took him at once to st. thomas's, and here he stayed a month, the governor of the island showing him a thousand civilities. he then embarked on board an english vessel, with whose captain he contracted an intimate friendship, in spite of the governor's warnings. he gave up his own cabin to montauban, to use our adventurer's own words, "with all the pleasure and diversion he could think of, for the solacing of my spirits under the afflictions i had from time to time endured." a tedious sail of three months brought them to barbadoes. during this time, his provisions running short, the english captain began to regret having taken up his french passengers, and reduced their daily allowance by three-fourths. on arriving at the port, colonel russel blamed the captain for having brought such visitors, and forbade him under pain of death to land; but some jewish physicians declaring that he must die if he did not, the governor consented, keeping a strict watch upon the sick man, and telling him to understand that he and his fellows were prisoners of war. montauban replied that he had only embarked on the faith of the english captain, on whose friendship he relied. he promised, if liberty were granted, them, he would be ever mindful of the favour, and would either pay the colonel a ransom, or restore at a future time any prisoners belonging to the island. "no," replied the governor, "i will have neither your ransom nor your prisoners, and you are too brave a man for me to have no compassion upon your many misfortunes. i desire, on the contrary, that you will accept of these forty pistoles, which i present you with to supply your present occasions." a vessel soon after arrived from martinique, and montauban went on board with two of his men, all that could be collected. the english governor, when he thanked him at parting, prayed him to be kind to any english that fell into his hands, and lamented the war regulations that compelled him to severity. on arriving at port royal, at martinique, mons. de blenac, the governor, who was then dying, made him stay at his house, and relate every day his adventure with the english vessel. in the same breath, montauban praises de blenac's wisdom, justice, integrity, and knowledge of all the coasts and heights of land in america. in a few days the freebooter embarked in the _virgin_ for bordeaux, and we lose sight of his stalwart figure and scarred face among the bustling eager crowds that fill the streets of that busy seaport. we have a shrewd suspicion that sieur de montauban did not die in a bed, but with his face to the foe and his back on a bloody plank. there is something delightfully sincere and _naïve_ in the sort of out-loud thinking with which he concludes his simple "yarn." "i do not know whether i have bid the sea adieu, so much has my last misfortune terrified me, or whether i shall go out again to be revenged on the english, who have done me so much mischief, or go and traverse the seas with a design to get me a little wealth, or rest quiet and eat up what my relations have left me. _there is a strange inclination in men to undertake voyages_, as there is to gaming; whatever misfortunes befall them, they do not believe they will be always unhappy, and therefore will play on. thus it is as to the sea, whatever accidents befall us, we are in hopes to find a favourable opportunity to make us amends for all our losses. i believe, whoever reads this account will find it a hard task to give me counsel thereupon, or to take the same himself." laurence de graff, our next hero, was a dutchman by birth, and served first in the service of spain as a sailor and a gunner. he soon became remarkable as a good shot, and renowned for his address and bravery, his bearing being equally attractive and commanding. going to america, he carried these talents to the best market, and, being taken prisoner by the corsairs, became a buccaneer, and soon rose to independent command. his name grew so terrible to the spaniards, that the monks used to pray god in their prayers to deliver them from "lorençillo," and the whole brotherhood used his name as a war-cry to strike terror. vessels struck their flag when they heard that shout, and the horsemen fled before it through the savannah. knowing that the spaniards would not forgive him the injuries he had inflicted on them, de graff never fought without strewing powder on the deck, or having a gunner with a lighted match ready to blow up the powder magazine at the first signal. on one occasion the people of carthagena, knowing that he was sailing near the port in a single small vessel, despatched two frigates to bring him bound to land. lorençillo, believing himself lost, had already given orders to blow up the vessel, when, making a last desperate effort, he captured both of his enemies. these men were never so formidable as when surrounded by an overwhelming force. on another occasion the admiral and vice-admiral of the galleon fleet had orders to take him at all risks, which they should easily have done, as each of their vessels carried sixty guns. finding it impossible to escape, laurence animated his crew, and told them that in victory lay their only hope of life. the gunner was placed as usual ready beside the magazine, and then running boldly between the two vessels, de graff poured in a volley of musketry and killed forty-eight spaniards. the action still continued, when a french shot carried away the mainmast of the largest galleon, and her consort, afraid to board, left lorençillo the conqueror. the report of this victory produced a great sensation both at paris and madrid. the french sent the conqueror letters of naturalization and a pardon for the death of van horn, and the court of spain issued orders to cut off the head of their recreant admiral. at another time laurence was cruising near carthagena, in company with the french captains, michel jonqué, le sage, and breac. the spaniards, thinking to catch him alone, sent out two thirty-six gun ships and a small craft of six guns, which overtook him in a bay to leeward of the city. surprised to see him well guarded, they endeavoured to escape, but laurence attacked them, and after an eight hours' action, having killed spaniards, took the admiral's ship, jonqué's capturing its companion. laurence's prize, however, was soon after driven ashore, and the prisoners escaped. captain laurence is at this time described as a tall, fair man, with light hair and moustachios. he was fond of music, and kept a band of violins and trumpets on board his ship. on one occasion landing in jamaica, the french levelled the three intrenchments, spiked the cannon, burnt a town, and retreated to their ships--carrying off negroes, and much indigo and merchandise. the island was saved by the fact of the inhabitants of one corner having fortified all their houses, and turned each into an inaccessible and unscalable fort. in the attack of one of these alone captain le sage and fifty men were killed. the english say that there were fugitive negroes in the mountains, anxious to join the french, and to escape to st. domingo, but the french, taking them for enemies, fled at their approach. afraid of retaliation, hispaniola now prepared for defence. le sieur de graff commanded at cape françois, and was to lay ambuscades and throw up intrenchments, and dispute every inch with the spaniards or the english. if the enemy was too strong he was ordered to spike his cannon, blow up his powder, and fall back to port de paix. in the spaniards and english landed with men. contrary to all expectation, de graff, perhaps too old for service, wasted eight days in reconnoitring, and abandoned post after post. his men lost all courage when they saw his irresolution. his lieutenant, le chevalier de leon, also deserted his guns without a blow, de graff merely remarking that it was only twenty-eight cannon lost. a succession of disasters followed, and nothing but climate and the quarrels of the allies saved the desolated colony. in , de graff was made major in the french army, and henceforward fought with more or less fidelity for the country that had ennobled him. not long after this event, the termination of all his glory, being a widower, he married anne dieu le veut, a french lady of indomitable spirit. she was one of those french women brought over by the governor, m. d'ogeron, to marry to the hunters of hispaniola. "they grew," says charlevoix, "perfect atalantas, and joined in the chase, using the musket and sabre with the best." from such amazonian mould came some of the buccaneer chiefs. one day before her marriage, this heroine having received some insult from her husband, drew out a pistol and forced him to unsay what he had uttered. full of admiration at her courage, and thinking such an amazon worthy of a hero's bed, he married her. both she and her children were taken prisoners by the english, and not released for a long time after the peace. de graff's first wife was petroline de guzman, a spanish lady. at the time de graff's brevet arrived, he was on a reef near carthagena, having been wrecked while pursuing a bark in a vessel of forty-eight guns and men. with his canoe the wrecked men took the ship, and landing in darien, lost twenty-five adventurers in an indian ambuscade. his two prizes he sent to st. domingo, but his crew obliged him to continue privateering till the letters from de cussy recalled him. one of the chief reasons why this honour had been bestowed on him was, that, by his great credit with the adventurers, he might draw them to settle on land. about this time, the spaniards surprised petit guaves, and war commenced. only the year before, the same nation had seized breac, the flibustier captain, and hung him, with nine or ten of his men. soon after this, a spanish officer, whom de graff, now commandant at the isle à la vache, had delivered from some english corsairs, informed him that a spanish galleon full of treasure was lying wrecked at the seranillas islands, but this prize he was obliged to relinquish to the english. de graff now became remarkable for his firmness and justice. he encouraged colonization, settled differences between english and french buccaneers, and prohibited all privateering. his name was still so terrible, that on one occasion spaniards attacking hispaniola retreated when they heard that the old chief commanded the militia of the island. the flibustiers were found bad colonists: the french could manage to keep them at a fortified post when a spanish invasion was expected, but the instant the enemy retreated, the sea grew dark with buccaneer vessels, eager for prizes. indocile and desperate, they seduced all the youth of hispaniola from their plantations. at one time the french governor seems to have resolved on their total destruction, but their usefulness as light troops saved them. the descents on jamaica in search of slaves by the french buccaneers grew soon so numerous, that the english island became known as "little guinea." in , a french adventurer named daviot, with men, landed and pillaged the north of jamaica. his vessel being driven out to sea by a storm, his men were compelled to remain fifteen days exposed to incessant attacks from their enemies. while waiting for the vessel's return, the dreadful earthquake happened that swallowed , souls, and destroyed port royal. the flibustiers, alarmed at the rocking of the earth, embarked sailors and forty prisoners in canoes, but the sea was as convulsed as the land, and they lost all but sixty men, and were driven again on shore. attacked when he again put out to sea by two english vessels, daviot beat them off with a loss of seventy-six men, only two of his own being killed. boarded by the english a second time, his vessel blew up, and he surrendered with twenty-one of his crew. soon after this, three french vessels, manned with buccaneers, took an english guarda costa of forty guns, killing eighteen men. in , de graff commanded in a buccaneer invasion of jamaica, sailing to that island with fourteen vessels and men. he forced the english intrenchments in spite of musketeers and twelve guns, slew of the defenders, and captured nine ships, losing himself only twenty-two men. he then drove off troopers from spanish town, after two hours' combat. the next day de graff despatched troops to carry off cattle. in , a process was instituted against de graff, whom m. du casse suspected of intrigues with spain. the evidence, m. charlevoix thinks, showed only his extreme fear of falling into the hands of the enemy. it is certain that the spanish had offered to make him a vice-admiral, but he would not trust their sincerity. the english despised him for this supposed treachery, and when he proposed to the governor of jamaica to retreat to that island, if he could give him employment, the governor replied, that he had already betrayed three nations, and would not stick at betraying a fourth. the spaniards regarded him with fear till his death, and never forgave him the injury he had done them. "during the next war between france and spain," says charlevoix, "the marquis of cöelogon arriving at havannah with a french squadron that he commanded in the mexican gulf, having de graff on board, all the town ran to the shore at the news, to see the famous lorençillo that had so long been the terror of the west indies, but the marquis would not let him land for fear of danger." deprived of his command, de graff was appointed captain of a light frigate. this situation suited him better than land service, for which he showed no genius, and he was frequently employed on board the french squadrons, no man knowing better the navigation of the north pacific. of his death we know nothing, but it is supposed he lived to a good age. one of the most important enterprises ever attempted by the french buccaneers, in conjunction with the french government, was the capture of carthagena in . the fleet of m. de poincy consisted of eighteen vessels, besides ten flibustier craft, carrying adventurers, in addition to his own men and two companies of negroes. the buccaneer captains were montjoy, godefroy, blanc, galet, pierre, pays, sales, macary, and colong. their vessels were named _le pontchartrain_, _la ville de glamma_, _la serpente_, _la gracieuse_, _la pembrock_, _le cerf volant_, _la mutine_, _le brigantin_, _le jersé_, and _l'anglais_. the whole force mustered men. the adventurers at first refused to embark till a fit share of the booty was promised to them, being accustomed to be deprived of their rights by the french officers. enraged at not being treated as equals, and finding one of their men imprisoned at petit guaves, they invested the fort, and were only appeased by ready concessions. the first scheme of the expedition was to seek the galleons; but this was abandoned, though it appeared afterwards that at that very time they were lying at porto bello richer than they had been for fifty years, and laden with , , crowns. the second plan was to attack vera cruz, and the last to sail to carthagena. that most graphic and vigorous of writers, michael scott, describes carthagena as situated on a group of sandy islands, surrounded by shallow water. a little behind the town, on a gentle acclivity, is the citadel of fort st. felipe, and on the ship-like hill beyond it the convent of the popa, projecting like a poop-lantern in the high stern of a ship. arrived at that city, the french galliot bombarded the whole night; and as this was the first bomb ship ever seen in the west indies, the splintering of shells produced a great terror in the citizens. two days after the fleet anchored before bocca chica. this fort contained thirty-three guns; had four bastions, and was defended by a dry fosse cut in the rocks. the ramparts were bomb proof and the walls shot proof. under the fire of the _st. louis_, the galliot, and two bomb vessels, the troops landed and advanced without opposition within a quarter of a league of the fort. by the advice of the buccaneers, accustomed to such marches, men crossed through a wood by a path so difficult that only one man could pass at a time, and, unobserved, took possession of the road leading from carthagena to the fort, fortifying themselves on both sides, and cutting off the communication between the fort and the city, taking some negroes prisoners, and losing a few men from the shots of the enemy. the next morning, at daybreak, the adventurers, finding some boats on the beach, pursued and captured a spanish piragua containing several monks of high rank. one of the priests in vain was sent with a flag of truce and a drummer and trumpeter to summon the governor to surrender. the negroes clearing the road, a battery of guns and mortars opened upon the fort, and the buccaneer sharp-shooters shot down the enemy's gunners, driving back some half galleys that attempted to bring reinforcements. the buccaneers, pursuing the boats, found shelter under the covered way, and killed every man who showed himself on the batteries of the fort. the governor, who saw the adventurers rushing, as he thought, madly to destruction, began to lament that he had employed such people. warned that if left alone "the brothers" would give a good account of the place, he scornfully laughed and ordered up reinforcements. thinking the flibustiers had only run under the covered way for shelter, he pursued a few who really did turn tail with his cane, and attempted in vain to drive them to the assault. by this time the freebooters had won the drawbridge, and, displaying their colours on the edge of the ditch, demanded means for the escalade. thirty ladders were placed, and the assault had already commenced, when the spaniards hung out the white flag, and, shouting "_viva el rey!_" flung their arms and hats into the ditch. the gate being opened, of the garrison were confined in the chapel; others were found wounded. the governor, handing the keys of the fortress to m. de poincy, said: "i deliver into your hands the keys of all the spanish indies." about forty adventurers were killed, and as many wounded, in this attack. the next day the fleet entered the harbour, and the spaniards burned all their vessels to prevent capture. the governor still refusing to surrender, saying he wanted neither men, arms, nor courage, the adventurers embarked to attack the convent of nuestra senhora de la popa, and to occupy the heights. m. du casse being wounded in the thigh, the flibustiers refused to march under the command of m. galifet, to whom they had a dislike; and on his striking one of them, the man took him by the cravat. the mutineer was instantly tied to a tree and sentenced to be shot, but pardoned at m. galifet's intercession. m. de poincy, going on board captain pierre's ship, seized him and ordered him to execution, and the revolt then ceased, de poincy threatening to decimate them on the next outbreak. the convent stood on a mountain shaped like the poop of a ship, about a gunshot from carthagena. it had been abandoned by the monks, who had stripped it of every valuable. the army then marched by sunset to the fort santa cruz, suffering much from thirst. the fort mounted sixty guns, was surrounded by a wet ditch, and on the land side accessible only through a morass, but it surrendered without firing a shot. the adventurers then pushed on to within a gunshot of fort st. lazarus, which commanded the suburbs on the other side of the city. the french defiled round the fort, while some of their grenadiers carried on a pretended conference with the fort. the next day roads were cut through a hill, and the army were placed within pistol shot of the walls, concealed by an eminence that covered them from the enemy's fire. the spaniards, losing their commander, abandoned the place in disorder, and their fort, st. lazarus, being within musket shot of gezemanie (the suburbs), they opened a fire of ten guns upon the captured batteries, the buccaneer musketry clearing the streets. thirty men were killed in trying to turn a chapel into a redoubt, and the camp removed behind st. lazarus, de poincy having been wounded in the breast. the three next days several breaching batteries were completed, and the galliot and mortars bombarded the city all night. in three days more, the breach was pronounced practicable, and the storming commenced. m. du casse, although wounded, led the grenadiers, and m. macharais the adventurers, who set the army an example of daring. planks were laid over the broken drawbridge, and the troops passed over, under a tremendous fire from the bastion of st. catherine, one man only being able to cross at a time. the breach and batteries were lined with spanish lancers, who flung their spears, nine feet long, a distance of twelve or fifteen yards. the french had men killed and wounded, and many officers fell. vice-admiral the count de cöetlogon was mortally hurt; the commander-in-chief's nephew, le chevalier de poincy, a young midshipman, had his knee broken, and many were wounded in pursuing the spaniards to the city. the french gave no quarter, putting to the sword spaniards who had thrown themselves into a church. the governor, who had ordered his servants to carry him in his easy chair to the breach to animate his men, fled into carthagena. the army now advanced to the bridge which led from gezemanie to the city, and repulsed two sorties of the enemy. the french threw up intrenchments and erected batteries to breach the walls. two days were spent in these preparations and in dressing the wounded. there were still great difficulties to encounter. armies of indians were approaching. the spanish garrison had six months' provision and eighty guns mounted on their ramparts. the next day, carthagena, terrified at the fate of gezemanie, surrendered. the conditions were, that the churches should not be plundered, that those who chose might leave the city unmolested, and that the inhabitants should surrender half their money on pain of losing all. the governor and troops were to depart with the honours of war. the merchants were to surrender their account books to the french commander. the adventurers instantly occupied the bastions and gate, and the other troops seized the ramparts. the governor, having marched out with men, m. de poincy proceeded to the cathedral to hear the _te deum_, and then repaired to his lodgings at the house where the royal treasure was deposited. at first the soldiers and sailors were forbidden to enter any house on pain of death, and the admiral's carpenter being caught plundering, and confessing his guilt, had his head cut off on the spot. but a change soon took place. the governor, assembling the heads of religious houses, informed them that the treaty did not spare any convent that had money. many days were spent in receiving and weighing the crowns. de poincy declared, that before his arrival the monks had fled with mules laden with gold, and he had obtained barely nine million pieces. other accounts say he obtained forty million livres, _i.e._, twenty millions without including merchandise. every officer had , crowns, besides his general share of the spoil, before he allowed his soldiers to enter a house. charlevoix confesses, that the honour the french won by their bravery they lost by their cruelty. the capitulation was broken, churches were profaned, church plate stolen, images broken, virgins violated on the very altars, the monks tortured, and the sick in the hospitals left to starve, or resort to the horrors of cannibalism. notwithstanding the inhabitants brought in their money, some to the amount of , dollars, a general search was made throughout the town, and much gold found. a few of the inhabitants hired guards of adventurers, but, in general, these men also turned plunderers, the officers only attempting to keep up appearances. anxious to get the adventurers out of the way while he collected the spoil, de poincy spread a report that , indians were approaching, and sent the flibustiers to drive them back. after plundering the country for four leagues, they returned with fifty prisoners, a drove of cattle, and crowns. during the siege, they had been employed in skirmishing, cutting off supplies, and foraging, and were accustomed to laugh at the sailors, who dragged the guns and called them "white negroes." disease breaking out, and carrying off men in six weeks, de poincy embarked his plunder, and prepared to sail. eighty-six guns he carried off, and destroyed st. lazarus and bocca chica. the buccaneers, calling out loudly for their share, received only , crowns. the men instantly shouted--"brothers, we do wrong to take anything of this dog, our share is left at carthagena." this proposal was received with a ferocious gaiety, and they all swore never to return to st. domingo. they derided m. du casse's promises to get them justice from the french king, and fired at those vessels that would not follow them. the people of carthagena shuddered to see them return. shutting up all the men in the cathedral, they promised to depart on receiving five millions as a ransom. in one day a million crowns were brought, but, this being still inadequate, they broke open the very tombs, and goaded the citizens to the torture, firing off guns, and pretending to put men to death in the neighbouring rooms. two men, guilty of cruelty, their leaders hanged. each man received about , crowns; and having spent four days in collecting and dividing the gold and silver, they appointed the isle à la vache as a rendezvous to divide the slaves and merchandise. the retribution was at hand. they had not sailed thirty leagues when they fell in with the combined english and dutch fleets. _le christ_, with men, and more than a million crowns, was taken by the dutch, _le cerf volant_ by the english, a third was driven on shore and burnt near st. domingo, a fourth, running on land near carthagena, was taken, and her crew employed in rebuilding the fortifications they had destroyed. of de poincy's plunder, , livres were carried off by an english foray on petit guaves. admiral neville, who failed to overtake the french deep-laden and weakly manned fleet, died of a broken heart at virginia. du casse was rewarded with the cross of st. louis for his services, and orders arrived from france to distribute , , of de poincy's spoil among the freebooters, very little of which, however, reached them. a curse, says charlevoix, rested on the whole enterprise. in , a french fleet, under the command of count d'estrees, on its way to attack the dutch island of curaçoa, was lost on the aves islands, a small cluster of rocks surrounded by breakers. attracted by the distress-guns fired by the first ship that ran aground, its companions, believing that it had been attacked by the enemy, hurried pell-mell to its assistance, and, blinded by the fog, ran one by one on destruction. eighteen of them were lost. of this disaster, dampier, who visited the island about a year afterwards, gives a very interesting account. the buccaneer part of the crew (for the buccaneers took an active part in these wars), quite accustomed to such chances, scrambled to shore, and proceeded to save all they could from the wreck; but a few of them, breaking into the stores of a stranded vessel, floated with her out to sea, drinking and cursing on the poop, and holding up their flasks, shouting and laughing to the drowning men around them. every soul of them perished. several flibustier vessels were lost at the same time, about buccaneers having joined the expedition at tortuga. about of these perished with the wrecks. dampier describes the islands as strewn with shreds of sail, broken spars, masts, and rigging. for some years, in consequence, the aves became the resort of buccaneer captains, who careened and refitted here, employing their crews in diving for plate, and in attempts to recover guns and anchors. to console themselves for this failure, m. de poincy led buccaneers to attack santiago, first touching at tortuga for reinforcements. they landed unseen, taking advantage of a bright moonlight night. the vanguard wound their way round the base of a mountain that barred their approach to the town, and, instead of advancing, worked round till they met their rearguard, whom they mistook for the enemy, and furiously attacked. they discovered their mistake at last by their mutual cries of "tue, tue." but it was now late; all hopes of surprise were over; the spaniards, alarmed, put themselves on their defence, and at daybreak drove back the freebooters to their ships with an irresistible force of men. another party, more successful, plundered port au prince, st. thomas's, and truxillo on the mainland. grammont, during this time, had been left behind on the aves islands, to collect all that was valuable from the wreck, and to careen the surviving vessels. having completed this, and finding himself short of provisions, and the season being favourable for an excursion to the gulf of venezuela, grammont decided upon a visit to maracaibo. arriving at the fort of the bar, mounted with twelve guns and garrisoned by seventy men, he commenced an attack. the french had opened a trench, had already pushed it within cannon shot, and were preparing the ladders to scale, when the governor surrendered on condition of obtaining the honours of war. passing on to the town, grammont found it abandoned. gibraltar also made little resistance. from the lake he carried off three vessels, and also took a prize of value, cannonading it with his guns, and at the same time boarding it with a swarm of canoes. being now master of the whole lake, he visited all the places where his prisoners told him he was likely to find gold hidden, defeating the spaniards wherever he met them. then, collecting all his scattered plunderers, grammont prepared to attack torilla, making a detour of forty-five leagues in order to take it by surprise. arriving near the town, the buccaneers came to the banks of a rapid river, with only one ford, which they had the good fortune to find, crossing over under shelter of a hot fire that the rearguard kept up upon the spaniards, who lay intrenched upon the opposite bank. the moment they had crossed, their enemies fled, and torilla was their own. the prize, however, proved not worth the winning, for the town was abandoned, and the treasure hid. the buccaneer rule, indeed, was that no place was worth sacking which was taken without a blow, as the spaniards always fought best when they had most to fight for. the buccaneers departed with little booty; their men having taken three towns, and conquered a province, with the loss of only seventy men, and these chiefly by illness. in grammont made another expedition to the coast of cumana. having collected twenty-five piraguas, he ascertained from some prisoners that there were three armed vessels anchored under the forts of gonaire, and these he determined to cut out. he embarked all his men in a single bark, and left orders for the others to sail up to gonaire at a given signal. he landed with a few men at night, and surprised four watchmen, who, however, had still time left to fire, and alarm the town, before they could be overpowered. gonaire leaped instantly from its sleep. the bells rang backward; the guns fired; the musketeers hurried to the market-place; doors were barred; and the women and children fled in tears to the altars. grammont, doubling his speed, arrived at the east gate, his drums beating, trumpets sounding, and colours flying. although it was defended by twelve guns, he took it with the hot fierceness of a cæsar, pushed on at once to a fort about a hundred yards distant, and commenced a vigorous attack. at the head of his crew he entered the embrasures, killing twenty-six out of its thirty-eight defenders. planting his colours on the wall, the men shouted "_vive le roi!_" with such unanimity and fierceness that at the very sound the whole garrison of the neighbouring fort at once surrendered, and forty-two men instantly laid down their arms. these successes were obtained with only forty-seven men--a mere handful being able to keep up in the rapid and headlong charge. grammont, rallying his men, then placed garrisons in the forts, razed the embrasures, spiked the cannon, and then proceeded to intrench himself in a strong position. the next day he entered the town, making several vigorous sorties on the enemy, who now began to gather in round him on all sides. being informed that men were advancing to meet him from caragua, he gave orders for embarkation, the buccaneers seldom fighting when no booty was to be obtained. remaining last upon the shore to cover the retreat of his men, withstanding for nearly twenty-four hours the onslaught of spaniards, he was at last dangerously wounded in the throat, and one of his officers had his shoulder broken. grammont took with him the governor of gonaire, and other prisoners, the usual resource of the buccaneers when a town either furnished no booty, or gave them no time to collect it. this daring enterprise was achieved with the loss of only eight men. on his way home to be cured of a wound which his vexation and impatience had rendered dangerous, he was wrecked near petit guaves, and his own vessel and his prize both lost. about the next adventure of this chivalrous corsair some doubts are thrown, although it is related boastingly by charlevoix, who says: "he then took an english vessel of thirty guns, which had defied the governor of tortuga, and beaten off a buccaneer bark. this ship, armed with fifty guns, and navigated by a crew of men, grammont is reported to have boarded, killing every englishman on board but the captain, whom he reserved to carry in triumph to shore." grammont was born in paris of a good family. his mother being left a widow, her daughter was courted by an officer who treated grammont, then a student, as a rude boy. they fought, and the lover received three mortal stabs. obtaining the dying man's pardon, the young duellist entered the marines, eventually commanded a privateer frigate, and took, near martinique, a dutch flute, containing , livres. having spent all this in gaiety at st. domingo, the young captain turned buccaneer. charlevoix notices his manners and address, which were as fascinating as those of de graff. the writer describes "sa bonne grâce, ses manières honnêtes, et je ne sçais quoi d'aimable qui gagnoit les coeurs." we have described already his surprise of maracaibo, and his expedition to vera cruz. his expedition to campeachy was against the wish of the french governor of st. domingo. on their way home he quarrelled and separated from de graff. "with all the talent that can raise man to command, he had," says charlevoix, "all the vices of a corsair. he drank hard, and abandoned himself to debauchery, with a total disregard of religion." in grammont, at the recommendation of m. de cussy, governor of st. domingo, was made lieutenant de roi, cussy intending to make him protector of the south coast. but grammont, elated at his new title, and anxious to show that he deserved it, armed a ship, manned by buccaneers, to make a last cruise against the spaniards, and was heard of no more. chapter iii. fall of the floating empire. peace of ryswick--attempts to settle--buccaneers turn pirates--last expedition to the darien mines, . the english were the first to attempt to put down buccaneering, but the last to succeed in doing it. when the freebooters had served their purpose, the english government would have thrown them by as a soldier would his broken sword. in , after morgan returned from panama, lord john vaughan, the new governor of jamaica, had strict orders to enforce the treaty concluded with spain in the previous year, but to proclaim pardon, indemnity, and grants of land to all buccaneers who would turn planters. by royal proclamation, all cruising against spain was forbidden under severe penalties. to avoid this irksome imprisonment to a plot of sugar canes, many of the english freebooters joined their brethren at tortuga, or turned cow-killers and logwood cutters in the bay of campeachy. in the next year the war broke out between england and holland, and many fitted out privateers. the unwise restrictions of france, and home interference with colonial administration, once more fostered "the people of the coast." annoying prohibitions and vexatious monopolies drove the planters to sea. in a royal proclamation granted pardon to all english buccaneers who should surrender themselves. the french flibustiers continued to flourish during the war which followed the accession of william iii. to the throne of england. in the knell of the brotherhood was finally rung by the joy bells that announced the peace of ryswick. the english and dutch made great complaints to the governor of st. domingo of the french flibustiers, and demanded compensation, which was granted. a colony was established at the isle à la vache in hopes of carrying on a trade with new spain, by orders of the french king the church plate brought from carthagena was returned, and buccaneering prohibited. the government advised that force should be resorted to to induce those flibustiers to turn planters who were not willing to avail themselves of the amnesty. those who had settled in jamaica, seeing in a new war likely to break out between england and france, and determined not to take arms against their own country, passed over to the mainland, and settled in bocca toro. as soon as the war broke out, however, a great many french buccaneers, persecuted at st. domingo, joined the english under benbow. in , m. auger, a new governor, coming to st. domingo, and seeing the false step his predecessors had taken, recalled the flibustiers, and made peace with the bocca toro indians. m. d'herville led of them to the havannah, and died there. he held the buccaneers of hispaniola far beyond those of martinique, and, had he lived, would have united them all under his flag. in le comte de choiseul beaupré, the new governor, attempted to revive buccaneering as the only hope of saving french commerce in the indies, the english privateers carrying off every merchant ship that approached the shores of st. domingo. the french government approved of all his plans, and gave him unlimited power to carry them out. he issued an amnesty to all flibustiers who had settled among the indians of sambres and bocca toro. the greater part of those who had joined the english returned; and those who had joined in the last expedition against carthagena received their pay. the brothers were restored to all their ancient privileges. the count intended to guard the coast with frigates while his smaller vessels harassed jamaica, but in the midst of these immature projects he was killed, in , in a sea engagement. the buccaneers, gathered from every part, now turned planters. thus, says charlevoix, ended the "flibuste de saint domingue," which only required discipline and leaders of ambition to have conquered both north and south america. undisciplined and tumultuous as it has been, without order, plan, forethought, or subordination, it has still been the astonishment of the whole world, and has done deeds which posterity will not believe. attachment to old habits and difficulty in finding employment made many turn pirates. proscribed now by all nations, with no excuse for plunder, and with no safe place of refuge, they sailed over the world, enemies to all they met. many frequented the guinea coast, others cruised off the coast of india, and new providence island, one of the bahama group, was now the only sanctuary. here the memorable blackbeard, martel, and his associates, were at last hunted down, about . the last achievement related of the flibustiers is in , when a party of englishmen having a commission from the governor of jamaica, landed on the isthmus of darien, near the samballas isles, and were joined by some old flibustiers who had settled there, and friendly indians. with these allies they marched to the mines, drove out the spaniards according to dampier's plan, and took seventy negroes. they kept these slaves at work twenty-one days, but obtained, after all, only eighty pounds' weight of gold. chapter iv. the pirates of new providence and the kings of madagascar. laws and dress--government--blackbeard--his enormities--captain avery and the great mogul--davis--lowther--low--roberts--major bonnet--captain gow--the guinea coast. the last refugee buccaneers turned pirates, and settled in the island of new providence. the african coast, and not the main, was now their cruising ground, and madagascar was their new tortuga. they no longer warred merely against the spaniard--their hands were raised against the world. their cruelty was no longer the cruelty of retaliation, but arose from a thirst of blood, never to be slaked, and still unquenchable. there was no longer honour among the bands, and they grew as cowardly as they were ferocious. flocks of trading vessels were scuttled, but no town attacked. we waste time even to detail their guilt, and only append the terrible catalogue as a _finis_ to our narrative. the following articles, signed by roberts's crew, may furnish a fair example of the ordinary rules drawn up by pirate captains:-- "every man has a vote in affairs of moment, and an equal title to the fresh provisions or strong liquors at any time seized; which he may use at pleasure, unless a scarcity make it necessary for the good of all to vote a retrenchment. "every man shall be called fairly in turn by list on board the prizes, and, over and above their proper share, shall be allowed a change of clothes. any man who defrauds the company to the value of a dollar in plate, jewels, or money, shall be marooned. if the robbery is by a messmate, the thief shall have his ears and nose slit, and be set on shore at the place the ship touches at. "no man shall play at cards or dice for money. "the lights and candles to be put out at eight o'clock at night. if any of the crew, after that hour, still remain inclined for drinking, they are to do it on the open deck. "every man shall keep his piece, pistols, and cutlass clean, and fit for service. "no woman to be allowed on board. any man who seduces a woman, and brings her to sea disguised, shall suffer death. "any one deserting the ship, or leaving his quarters during an engagement, shall be either marooned or put to death. "no man shall strike another on board, but the disputants shall settle their quarrel on shore with sword or pistol. "no man shall talk of breaking up the company till we get each £ . every man losing a limb, or becoming a cripple in the service, shall have dollars, and for lesser hurts proportional recompence. "the captain and quartermaster shall receive two shares of every prize. the master, boatswain, and gunner one share and a-half, and all other officers one and a-quarter. "the musicians to rest on sundays, but on no other days without special favour." from another set of articles we find, that "he that shall be found guilty of taking up any unlawful weapon on board a prize so as to strike a comrade, shall be tried by the captain and company, and receive due punishment. "all men guilty of cowardice shall also be tried. "if any gold, jewels, or silver, to the value of a piece of eight, be found on board a prize, and the finder do not deliver it to the quartermaster within twenty-four hours, he shall be put to his trial. "any one found guilty of defrauding another to the value of a shilling, shall be tried. "quarter always to be given when called for. "he that sees a sail first, to have the best pistols or small arms on board of her." one of the most cruel of their punishments was "sweating," an ingenuity probably invented by the london rakes and "scourers" of charles the second's reign. they first stuck up lighted candles circularly round the mizenmast, between decks, and within this circle admitted the prisoners one by one. outside the candles stood the pirates armed with penknives, tucks, forks, and compasses, and the musicians playing a lively dance, they drove the prisoner round, pricking him as he passed. this could seldom be borne more than ten minutes, at the end of which time the wretch, maddened with fear and pain, generally fell senseless. their diversions were as strange as their cruelties. on one occasion some pirates captured a ship laden with horses, going from rhode island to st. christopher's. the sailors mounted these beasts, and rode them backwards and forwards, full gallop, along the decks, cursing and shouting till the animals grew maddened. when two or three of these rough riders were thrown, they leaped up and fell on the crew with their sabres, declaring that they would kill them for not bringing boots and spurs, without which no man could ride. in dress the pirates were fantastic and extravagant. their favourite ornament was a broad sash slung across the breast and fastened on the shoulder and hip with coloured ribbons. in this they slung three and four pairs of pistols, for which, at the sales at the mast, they would often give £ a-pair. gold-laced cocked hats were conspicuous features of their costume. for small offences, too insignificant for a jury, the quartermaster was the arbitrator. if they disobeyed his command, except in time of battle, when the captain was supreme, were quarrelsome or mutinous, misused prisoners, or plundered when plundering should cease, or were negligent of their arms, as the master he might cudgel or whip them. he was, in fact, the manager of all duels, and the trustee of the whole company, returning to the owners what he chose (except gold and silver), and confiscating whatever he thought advisable. the quartermaster was, in fact, their magistrate, the captain their king. the captain had always the great cabin to himself, and was often voted parcels of plate and china. any sailor, however, might use his punch-bowl, enter his room, swear at him, and seize his food, without his daring to find fault, or contest his rights. the captain was generally chosen for being "pistol proof," and in some cases had as privy council a certain number of the elder sailors, who were called "lords." the captain's power was uncontrollable in time of chase or battle: he might then strike, stab, or shoot anybody who disobeyed his orders. the fate of the prisoner depended much upon the captain, who was oftener inclined to mercy than his crew. their flags were generally intended to strike terror. roberts's was a black silk flag, with a white skeleton upon it, with an hour-glass in one hand, and cross-bones in the other, underneath a dart, and a heart dripping blood. the pennon bore a man with a flaming sword in one hand, standing on two skulls, one inscribed a.b.h. (a barbadian's head), and the other, a.m.h. (a martiniquian's head). edward teach, _alias_ blackbeard, was born in bristol, and at a seaport town all daring youths turn sailors. he soon became distinguished for daring and courage, but did not obtain any command till , when a captain benjamin hornigold gave him the command of a sloop, and became his partner in piracy, till he surrendered. in the spring of , the pair sailed from their haunt in new providence towards the spanish main, and taking by the way a shallop from the havannah, laden with flour, supplied their own vessels. from a ship of bermuda they obtained wine, and from a craft of madeira they got considerable plunder. careening on the virginian coast, they returned to the west indies, and capturing a large french guinea-man, bound for martinique, teach went aboard as captain, and started for a cruise. hornigold, returning to new providence, surrendered to proclamation, and gave himself up to governor rogers. blackbeard had in the mean time mounted his prize with forty guns, and christened her the _queen anne's revenge_. cruising off st. vincent, he captured the _great allan_, and having plundered her, and set the men on shore, fired the ship, and let her drift to sea. a few days after, teach was attacked by the _scarborough_ man-of-war, who, finding him well manned, retired to barbadoes, after a cannonade of some hours. on his way to the mainland, teach was joined by major bonnet, a gentleman planter, turned pirate, who joined with him, commanding a sloop of ten guns. finding he knew nothing of naval affairs, teach soon deposed him, and took him on board his own ship, on pretext of relieving him from the fatigues and cares of such a post, wishing him, as he said, to live easy and do no duty. while taking in water near the bay of honduras, they surprised a sloop from jamaica, which surrendered without a blow, striking sail at the first terror of the black flag. the men they took on board teach's vessel, and manned it for their own use. at honduras they found a ship and four sloops, some from jamaica, and some from boston. the americans deserted one vessel, and escaped on shore, and the pirates burnt it in revenge. the other vessel they also burnt, because some pirate had been lately hung at boston. the three sloops they allowed to depart. taking turtles at the grand caiman's islands, they sailed to the havannah, and from the bahamas went to carolina, capturing a brigantine and two sloops. for six days they lay off the bar of charlestown, taking many vessels, and a brigantine laden with negroes. the people of carolina, who had not long before been visited by the pirate vane, were dumb with terror. no vessel dared put out, and the trade of the place stood still. to add to these misfortunes, a long and expensive war with the natives, only just concluded, had much impoverished the colony. teach detained all the ships and prisoners, and being in want of medicines, sent a boat's crew of men ashore, with one of the prisoners, to ask the governor to supply him with the drugs. the pirates were insolent in their demands, and, swearing horribly, vowed, if any violence was offered to them, that their captain would murder all the prisoners, send their heads to the governor, and then fire the vessels and slip cable. these rude ambassadors swaggered through the streets, insulting the inhabitants, who longed to seize them, but dared not, for fear of endangering the town. the governor did not deliberate long, for one of his brother magistrates was in the murderer's hands, and at once sent on board a chest, worth about £ , which the pirates returned with in triumph. blackbeard then released the prisoners, having first taken about £ out of the ships, besides provisions. from the bar of charlestown the kingly villains sailed to north carolina, where teach broke up the partnership, objecting to any division of money, preferring all the risk and all the profit. running into an inlet to clean, he purposely grounded his ship, and hands, another captain, coming to his assistance, ran ashore by his side. he then with forty men took possession of the third vessel, and marooned seventeen other men upon a sandy island, about a league from the main, where neither herb grew nor bird visited. here they would have perished, had not major bonnet taken them off two days after. teach then surrendered himself, with twenty of his men, to the governor of north carolina, and received certificates and pardons from him, having soon crept into his favour. through the governor's permission, the _queen anne's revenge_, though avowedly the property of english merchants, was forfeited by an admiralty court, as a spaniard, and declared the property of teach. before setting out again to sea blackbeard married his fourteenth wife, twelve more being still alive. the governor, who seems to have been half a pirate, and wholly a rogue, performed the ceremony. in june, , he steered towards bermudas, and meeting several english vessels, plundered them of provisions. he also captured two french vessels, one of which was loaded with sugar and cocoa, and bound to martinico. the loaded vessel he brought home, and the governor, calling a court, condemned it as a derelict, and divided the plunder with teach, receiving sixty hogsheads of sugar as his dividend, and his secretary twenty. for fear the vessel might still be claimed, teach declared it was leaky, and burnt her to the water's edge. he now spent three or four months in the river, lying at anchor in the coves, or sailing from inlet to inlet, bartering his plunder with any ship he met, giving presents to the friendly, and ransacking those who resisted. his nights he spent in revelries with the planters, to whom he made presents of rum and sugar, sometimes, when he grew moody, laying them under contribution, and even bullying his confederate, the villainous governor. the plundered sloops, finding no justice could be obtained in carolina, determined with great secresy to send a deputation to the governor of virginia, and to solicit a man-of-war to destroy the pirates. the governor instantly complied with their request. the next sunday a proclamation was read in every church and chapel in virginia, and by the sheriffs at their country houses. for blackbeard's head £ was offered, if brought in within the year, for his lieutenant's £ , for inferior officers £ , and for the common sailors £ . the _pearl_ and _lime_, men-of-war, lying in st. james's river, manned a couple of small sloops, supplied by the governor. they had no guns mounted, but were well supplied with small arms and ammunition. the command was given to lieutenant robert maynard, of the _pearl_, a man of courage and resolution. on the th of november the lieutenant sailed from picquetan, and on the evening of the st reached the mouth of the ollereco inlet, and sighted the pirates. great secresy was observed: all boats and vessels met going up the river were stopped to prevent blackbeard knowing of their approach. but the governor contrived to put him on his guard, and sent back four of his men, whom he found lounging about the town. blackbeard, frequently alarmed by such reports, gave no credit to the messenger, till he saw the sloops. he instantly cleared his decks, having only twenty-five of his forty men on board. having prepared for battle with all the coolness of an old desperado, he spent the night in drinking with the master of a trading sloop, who seemed to be in his pay. maynard, finding the place shoal and the channel intricate, dropped anchor, knowing there was no reaching the pirate that night. the next morning early he weighed, sent his boat ahead to sound, and, coming within gunshot of teach, received his fire. the lieutenant then, boldly hoisting the king's colours, made at him with all speed of sail and oar, part of his men keeping up a discharge of small arms. teach then cut cable and made a running fight, discharging his big guns. in a little time the pirate ran aground, and the royal vessel drawing more water anchored within half a gunshot. the lieutenant then threw his ballast overboard, staved all his water, and then weighed and stood in for the enemy. blackbeard, loudly cursing, hailed him. "d---- you villains, who are you? from whence come you?" the lieutenant replied, "you see by our colours we are no pirates." teach bade him send a boat on board that he might know who he was. maynard answered that he could not spare his boat, but would soon board with his sloop. whereupon blackbeard, drinking to him, cried, "devil seize my soul if i give you quarter or take any." maynard at once replied, "he should neither give nor take quarter." by this blackbeard's sloop floated, and the royal boats were fast approaching. the sloops being scarcely a foot high in the waist, the men were exposed as they toiled at the sweeps. hitherto few on either side had fallen. suddenly blackbeard poured in a broadside of grape, and killed twenty men on board one ship and nine on board the other; his vessel then fell broadside to the shore to keep its one side protected, and the disabled sloop fell astern. the virginia men still kept to their oars, however exposed, because otherwise, there being no wind, the pirate would certainly have escaped. maynard finding his own sloop had way, and would soon be on board, ordered his men all down below, for fear of another broadside, which would have been his total destruction. he himself was the only man that kept the deck, even the man at the helm lying down snug; the men in the hold were ordered to get their pistols and cutlasses ready for close fighting, and to come up the companion at a moment's signal. two ladders were placed in the hatchway ready for the word. as they boarded, teach's men threw in grenades made of case-bottles, filled with powder, shot, and slugs, and fired with a quick match. blackbeard, seeing no one on board, cried out, "they are all knocked on the head except three or four, and therefore i will jump on board and cut to pieces those that are still alive." under smoke of one of the fire-pots he leaped over the sloop's bows, followed by fourteen men. for a moment he was not heard, during the explosion, nor seen for the smoke. directly the air cleared maynard gave the signal, and his men, rising in an instant, attacked the pirates with a rush and a cheer. blackbeard and the lieutenant fired the first pistols at each other, and then engaged with sabres till the lieutenant's broke. stepping back to cock his pistol, blackbeard was in the act of cutting him down, when one of maynard's men gave the pirate a terrible gash in the throat, and the lieutenant escaped with a small cut over his fingers. they were now hotly engaged, blackbeard and his fourteen men--the lieutenant and his twelve. the sea grew red round the vessel. the ball from maynard's first pistol shot blackbeard in the body, but he stood his ground, and fought with fury till he received twenty cuts and five more shot. having already fired several pistols (for he wore many in his sash), he fell dead as he was cocking another. eight of his fourteen companions having now fallen, the rest, much wounded, leaped overboard and called for quarter, which was granted till the gibbet could be got ready. the other vessel now coming up attacked the rest of the pirates, and compelled them to surrender. so ended a man that in a good cause had proved a leonidas. with great guns the lieutenant might have destroyed him with less loss, but no large vessel would have got up the river, so shallow, that, small as it was, the sloop grounded a hundred times. the very broadside, although destructive, saved the lives of the survivors, for blackbeard, expecting to be boarded, had placed a daring fellow, a negro named cæsar, in the powder room, with orders to blow it up at a given signal. it was with great difficulty that two prisoners in the hold dissuaded him from the deed when he heard of his captain's death. the lieutenant cutting off blackbeard's head, hung it at his boltsprit end, and sailed into bath town to get relief for his wounded men. in rummaging the sloop, the connivance of the governor was detected; the secretary, falling sick with fear, died in a few days, and the governor was compelled to refund the hogsheads. when the wounded men began to recover, the lieutenant sailed back into james's river, with the black head still hanging from the spar, and bringing fifteen prisoners, thirteen of whom were hung. of the two survivors, one was an unlucky fellow captured only the night before the engagement, who had received no less than seventy wounds, but was cured of them all and recovered. the other was the master of the pirate sloop, who had been shot by blackbeard, and put on shore at bath town. his wound he received in the following way: one night, drinking in the cabin with the mate, a pilot, and another sailor, blackbeard, without any provocation, drew out a small pair of pistols and cocked them under the table. the sailor, perceiving this, said nothing, but got up and went on deck. the pistols being ready, blackbeard blew out the candle, and, crossing his hands under the table, discharged the pistols. the master fell shot through the knee, lamed for life, the other bullet hit no one. being asked the meaning of this cruelty, blackbeard answered, by swearing that if he did not kill one of them now and then, they would forget who he was. this man was about to be executed, when a ship arrived from england with a proclamation prolonging the time of pardon to those who would surrender. he pleaded this, was released, and ended his days as a beggar in london. it is a singular fact that many of blackbeard's captors themselves eventually turned pirates. teach derived his nickname from his long black beard, which he twisted with ribbons into small tails, and turned about his ears. this beard was more terrible to america than a comet, say his historians. in time of action he wore a sling over his shoulders, with three brace of pistols hanging to it in holsters like bandoliers. he then stuck lighted matches under his hat, and this, with his natural fierce and wild eyes, gave him the aspect of a demon. his frolics were truly satanic, and only madness can furnish us with any excuse for such crimes. pre-eminent in wickedness, he was constantly resorting to artifices to maintain that pre-eminence. one day at sea, when flushed with drink, "come," said he, "let us make a hell of our own, and try how long we can bear it." he then, with two or three others, went down into the hold, and, closing up all the hatches, lighted some pots of brimstone, and continued till the men, nearly suffocated, cried for air and pushed up the hatches. blackbeard triumphed in having held out longest. the night before he was killed, as he was drinking, one of his men asked him, if anything should happen to him, if his wife knew where he had buried his money. he answered that nobody but himself and the devil knew where it was, and the longest liver should have all. these blasphemies had filled the crew with superstitious fears, and perhaps unnerved their arms in the last struggle. the survivors declared that, once upon a cruise, a man was found on board more than the crew, sometimes below and sometimes above. no one knew whence he came and who he was, but believed him to be the devil, as he disappeared shortly before their great ship was cast away. in blackbeard's journal were found many entries illustrating the fear and misery of a pirate's life. for instance-- " rd june, all rum out; our company somewhat sober; rogues a plotting; great talk of separation; so i looked sharp for a prize. th june, took one with a great deal of liquor on board, so kept the company hot, d---- hot; then all things went well again." some sugar, cocoa, indigo, and cotton were found on board the pirate sloops, and some in a tent on the shore. this, with the sloop, sold for £ . the whole was divided amongst the crews of the _lime_ and _pearl_, the brave captors getting no more than their dividend, and that very tardily paid, as such things usually are by english governments. captain england began life as mate of a jamaica sloop, and being taken by a pirate named winter, before providence was turned into a freebooter fortress, became master of a piratical vessel. he soon became remarkable for his courage and generosity. when providence was taken by the english, england sailed to the african coast, a hot place, but not too hot for him, like the shores of the main. he here took several ships, among others the _cadogan_, bound from bristol to sierra leone--skinner, master. some of england's crew had formerly served in this ship, and, having proved mutinous, had been mulcted of their wages and sent on board a man of war, from whence deserting to a west indian sloop, they were taken by pirates, and eventually joined england and started for a cruise. as soon as skinner struck to the black flag, he was ordered on board the pirate. the first person he saw was his old boatswain, who addressed him with a sneer of suppressed hatred. "ah, captain skinner," said he, "is that you? the very man i wished to see. i am much in your debt, and will pay you now in your own coin." the brave seaman trembled, for he knew his fate, and shuddered as an ox does when it smells the blood of a slaughter-house. the boatswain, instantly shouting to his companions, bound the captain fast to the windlass. they then, amidst roars of cruel laughter, pelted him with glass bottles till he was cut and gashed in a dreadful manner. after this, they whipped him round the deck till they were weary, in spite of his prayers and entreaties. at last, vowing that he should have an easy death, as he had been a good master to his men, they shot him through the head. england then plundered the vessel and gave it to the mate and the crew of murderers, and they sailed with it till they reached death's door, and the port whose name is terrible. taking soon after a ship called the _pearl_, england fitted her up for his own use, and re-christened her the _royal james_. with her they took several vessels of various nations at the azores and cape de verd islands. in the rovers returned to africa, and, beginning at the river gambia, sailed all down the torrid coast as far as cape corso. in this trip they captured the _eagle pink_, six guns, the _charlotte_, eight guns, the _sarah_, four guns, the _wentworth_, twelve guns, the _buck_, two guns, the _castanet_, four guns, the _mercury_, four guns, the _coward_, two guns, and the _elizabeth_ and _catherine_, six guns. three of these vessels they let go, and four they burnt. two they fitted up as pirates, and calling them the _queen anne's revenge_ and the _flying king_, many of the prisoners joined their bands. these two ships sailed to the west indies, and careening, started for brazil, taking several portuguese vessels, but were finally driven off by a portuguese man-of-war. the _revenge_ escaped, but soon after went down at sea; the _flying king_ ran ashore; twelve of the seventy men were killed, and the rest taken prisoners. thirty-two english, three dutch, and two frenchmen of these were at once hung. but to return to england. in going down the coast, he captured two more vessels, and detained one, releasing the other. two other ships, seeing them coming, got safe under the guns of cape corso castle. the pirates, turning their last prize into a fire-ship, resolved to destroy both the fugitives, but, the castle firing hotly upon them, they retreated, and at whydah road found captain la bouche, another pirate, had forestalled their market. here england fitted up a bristol galley for his own use, calling it the _victory_. committing many insolences on shore, the negroes rose upon them and compelled them to retire to their ship, when they had fired one village, and killed many of the natives. they now put it to the vote what voyage to take, and, deciding for the east indies, arrived at madagascar ( ), and, taking in water and provisions, sailed for the coast of malabar, in the mogul's territory. they took several indian vessels, and one dutch, which they exchanged for one of their own, and then returned to madagascar. england now sent some men on shore, with tents, powder, and shot, to kill hogs, and procure venison, but they searched in vain for avery's men. cleaning their ships, they then set sail for panama, falling in with two english ships, and one dutch, all indiamen. fourteen of la bouche's crew boarded the englishmen in canoes, declaring that they belonged to the _indian queen_, twenty-eight guns, which had been lost on that coast, and that their captain, with forty men, was building a new vessel. the two english captains, mackra and reily, were about to sink and destroy these castaways, when england's two vessels, of thirty-four and thirty-eight guns, stood in to the bay. in spite of all promises of aid, the _ostender_ and _kirby_ deserted mackra, a breeze admitting of their escape, while the pirate's black and bloody flags were still flaunting the air. mackra, undaunted by their desertion, fought desperately for three hours, beating off one of the pirates, striking her between wind and water, and shooting away their oars, when they put out their sweeps and tried to board. mackra being wounded in the head, and most of his officers killed, ran ashore, and england following, ran also aground, and failed in boarding. the engagement then commenced with fresh vigour, and, had kirby come up, the pirates would have been driven off. england, obtaining three boats full of fresh men, was now in the ascendant, and soon after kirby stood out to sea, leaving his companion in the very jaws of death. mackra, seeing death inevitable, lowered the boats and escaped to land, under cover of the smoke, and the pirate, soon after boarding, cut three of their wounded men in pieces. the survivors fled to kingstown, a place twenty-five miles distant. england offered , dollars for mackra's head, but the king and chief people being in his interest, and a report being spread of his death, he remained safe for ten days, then obtaining a safe conduct from the pirate, mackra had an interview with their chief. england and some men who had once sailed with mackra protected him from those who would have cut him to pieces, with all who would not turn rovers. finding that they talked of burning their own ships, and refitting the english prize, mackra prevailed on them to give him the shattered ship, the _fancy_, of dutch build, and tons burden, and also to return bales of the company's cloth. fitting up jury masts, mackra sailed for bombay, with forty-five sailors, two passengers, and twelve soldiers, arriving after much suffering, and a passage of forty-three days, frequently becalmed between arabia and malabar. in the engagement he had thirteen men killed and twenty-four wounded, and killed nearly a hundred of the pirates. if kirby had proved staunch, he might have destroyed them both, and secured £ , of booty. opposed to him were whites and eighty blacks. we are happy to record that this brave fellow was well rewarded, and honoured with fresh command. nothing but despair could have driven mackra, he said in his published account, to throw himself upon the pirates' mercy, still wounded and bleeding as they were. he did not either seem to know how friendly the guiana people were to the english, so much so, that there was a proverb, "a guiana man and an englishman are all one." when he first came on board, england took him aside and told him that his interest was declining among his crew, that they were provoked at his opposition to their cruelty, and that he should not be able to protect him. he advised him, therefore, to win over captain taylor, a man who had become a favourite amongst them by his superiority in wickedness. mackra tried to soften this wretch with a bowl of punch, and the pirates were in a tumult whether to kill him or no, when a sailor, stuck round with pistols, came stumping upon a wooden leg up the quarterdeck and asked for captain mackra, swearing and vapouring, and twirling a tremendous pair of whiskers. the captain, expecting he was his executioner, called out his name. to his delight, the bravo seized him by the hand, and, shaking it violently, swore he was d----d glad to see him. "show me the man," cries he, "that dares offer to hurt captain mackra, for i'll stand by him; he's an honest fellow, and i know him well." this put an end to the dispute. taylor consented to give the ship, and fell asleep on the deck. mackra put off instantly, by england's advice, lest the monster should awake and change his mind. this clemency soon led to england's deposition, and on a rumour that mackra was fitting out a force against them, he was marooned with three more on the island of mauritius, and making a boat of drift wood, escaped to madagascar. the pirate, detaining some of mackra's men, set sail for the indies. seeing two ships which they supposed to be english, they commanded one of their prisoners to show them the company's private signals, or they would cut him in pound pieces. on approaching, they proved to be moorish ships from muscat, loaded with horses. they rifled the ships and put the officers to the torture, and left them without sails and with the masts cut through. the next day they fell in with the bombay fleet of eight vessels and men, despatched to attack angria, a malabar chief. afraid to show their fear, the pirates attacked the fleet and destroyed two laggers, torturing the crew and sending them adrift. the commodore of the fleet would not fight the pirates without orders, which so enraged the governor of bombay, that he appointed mackra the commander, and enjoined him to pursue and engage england wherever he met him. some time after this, the same fleet, aided by the viceroy of goa, landed , men at calabar, angria's stronghold, but were compelled to retreat. the next day between goa and carwar the pirates drove two grabs under the guns of india-diva castle, and would have taken the island but for the delay. at carwar they took a ship, and sent in a prisoner to demand water and provisions, for which they offered to surrender their prize. failing in this they sailed for the laccadeva islands, and landing at melinda, violated the women, destroyed the cocoa trees, and burnt the churches. at tellechery they heard of mackra's expedition, and cursed his ingratitude. some wished to hang the dogs who were left, but the majority agreed to keep them alive to show their contempt and revenge. at calicut they attempted to take a large moorish ship in the roads, but were prevented by some guns mounted on the shore. one of mackra's men they obliged to tend the braces on the booms amid all the fire. when he refused, they threatened to shoot him or loaded him with blows. his old tormentor, captain taylor, being gouty, could not hold a cudgel. some interceded for him, but taylor declared if he was let go he would disclose all their plans. they next arrived at cochin, and, sending on shore a fishing boat with a letter, ran into the road, saluting the fort. at night boats came off with provisions and liquor. the governor sent a boat full of arrack and sixty bales of sugar, and received in return a present of a table clock, and a gold watch for his daughter. the boatmen they paid some £ , and threw them handfuls of ducatoons to scramble for. the fiscal brought out cloths and piece goods for sale, but the fort opened fire when they chased a vessel under its shelter. they were soon after chased by five tall ships, supposed to be mackra's, but escaped. their christmas for three days they spent in a carouse, using the greater part of their fresh provisions, so that in their voyage to the mauritius they were reduced to a bottle of water and two pounds of beef a day for ten men. fitting up at mauritius, they sailed again in two months, leaving this inscription on one of the walls: "left this place the th of april, to go to madagascar for limes." at the island of mascarius they fell upon a great prize, finding the viceroy of goa in a portuguese ship of seventy guns, lying dismasted on the shore. of diamonds alone she had a cargo worth four millions of dollars. the viceroy coming calmly on board, taking them for english, was captured with all his officers, and ransomed for dollars. to the leeward of the island they found an ostend vessel, which they sent to madagascar to prepare masts for the prize, and followed soon after with a cargo of mozambique negroes. when they reached madagascar they found that the dutch crew had made the pirates drunk, and sailed back to mozambique, and from thence to goa with the governor. they now divided their plunder, most of them receiving forty-two small diamonds as their share. the madman, who obtained one large one, broke it in a mortar, swearing he had got now a better share than any of them, for he had forty-three sparks. some of the pirates now gave up their wild life and settled in _matelotage_ at madagascar, on the tontine principle of the longest liver inheriting all. the two prizes were then burnt, and taylor sailed for cochin to sell his diamonds to the dutch, and thence to the red and china seas, to avoid the english men-of-war. the pirates, about this time, had sail and men in the indian seas, but soon separated for the coast of brazil and guinea, or to settle and fortify themselves at madagascar, mauritius, johanna, and mohilla. a pirate named condin, in a ship called the _dragon_, took a vessel from mocha with thirteen lacs of rupees ( , half-crowns), and burning the ship settled at madagascar. the commander of the english fleet, still in pursuit of these pirates, attempted to prevail on england to serve him as spy and pilot, but in vain. taylor, resolving to sail to the indies, but hearing of the four men-of-war, started for the african main, and put into delagoa, destroying a small fort of six guns. this fort belonged to the dutch east india company, but its men had been deserted, and left to pine away and starve; sixteen turned pirates, but the rest, being dutch, were left to die. they stayed in this den of fever three months, and having careened, paid the dutch with bales of muslins and chintzes. some now left, and returned to settle in madagascar. the rest sailed for the west indies, and, escaping the fangs of two english men-of-war, surrendered themselves to the governor of porto bello. eight of them afterwards passed to jamaica as shipwrecked sailors, and shipped for england. captain taylor entered the spanish service, and commanded the man-of-war that afterwards attacked the english logwood-cutters in the bay of honduras, and caused the spanish war. captain avery was a more remarkable man than england, and his ambition of a wider kind. he was a native of plymouth, and served as mate of a merchant vessel in several voyages. before the peace of ryswick, the french of martinique carried on a smuggling trade with the natives of peru, in spite of the spanish _guarda costas_. the spaniards, finding their vessels too weak for the french, hired two bristol vessels of thirty guns and men, which were to sail first to corunna or the groine, and from thence to the main. of one of these ships, the _duke_, gibson was commander, and avery first mate. avery, planning with the boldest and most turbulent of the crew, plotted to run away with the vessels, and turn pirates on the indian coasts. the captain, a man much addicted to drink, had gone to bed, when sixteen conspirators from the other vessel, the _duchess_, came on board and joined the company. their watchword was, "is your drunken boatswain on board?" securing the hatches, they slipped their cable and put to sea, without any disorder, although surrounded by vessels. a dutch frigate of forty guns refused to interrupt their progress, although offered a reward. the captain, awoke by the motion of the ship and the noise of working the tackle, rang his bell, and avery and two others entered the cabin. the captain, frightened and thinking the ship had broken from her anchors, asked, "what was the matter?" avery replied coolly, "nothing." the captain answered, "something has happened to the ship; does she drive? what weather is it?" "no, no," said avery, "we're at sea with a fair wind and good weather." "at sea?" said the captain, "how can that be?" upon which avery told him to get up and put on his clothes, and he could tell him a secret, for he (avery) was captain, and that was his cabin, and that he was on his way to madagascar to make his fortune and that of all the brave fellows who were with him. avery then bade the captain not to be afraid, for if he was sober and minded his business, he might in time make him one of his lieutenants. at his request, however, he sent him on shore with six others. on reaching madagascar they found two sloops lying at anchor, which the men had run away with from the west indies, and who, taking his vessel for a frigate, fled into the woods and posted themselves in a strong place with sentinels. discovering their mistake, after some cautious parleying, they united together and sailed for the arabian coast. near the river indus they espied a sail and gave chase, believing they had caught a dutch east indian ship, but found it to be one of the great mogul's vessels, carrying his daughter with pilgrims and offerings to mecca. the sloops boarded her on either side, and she at once struck her colours. the indian ship was loaded with treasure, the slaves and attendants richly clad and covered with jewels, and all having vessels of gold and silver, and large sums of money to defray their expenses in the land journey. taking all the treasure, they let the princess go, and the ship put back for india. the mogul, on learning it, threatened to drive the english from india with fire and sword, but the company contrived to pacify him by promising to deliver up to him the pirate ship and her crew. the rumours of this adventure occasioned a report at wapping that jack avery had married the great mogul's daughter, founded an empire, and purchased a fleet. avery, having secured his prize, determined to return to madagascar, build a fort and magazine where he could leave a garrison to overawe the natives when he was absent on a cruise. a fresh scheme suggesting itself, he resolved to plunder his friends the sloops, and return to new providence. he began by sending a boat on board each of his allies, desiring their captain to come and attend a general council. at this meeting he represented to them that if they were separated in a storm they must be taken, and the treasure would then be lost to the rest. he therefore proposed, as his ship was so strong that it could hold its own against any vessel they could meet with on those seas, to put the treasure on board in his care, in a chest sealed with three seals, and that a rendezvous should be appointed in case of separation. the two captains at once agreed to the proposal as manifestly for the common good. that day and the next the weather was fair, and they all kept company. in the mean time avery persuaded his men to abscond with the plunder, and escape to some country where they might spend the rest of their days in splendour and luxury. taking advantage of a dark night, they steered a new course, and by morning had lost sight of the outwitted sloops. avery now resolved to steer for america, change his name, purchase a settlement, and die in peace and charity with all the world--a calm, rich christian. they first visited new providence, afraid that they might be detected in new england as the deserters from the groine expedition. avery, pretending that his vessel was a privateer that had missed her mark and was sold by the owners, disposed of her to good advantage, and bought a sloop. in this vessel he touched at several parts of the american coast, giving his men their dividends, and allowing those who chose to leave the ship. the greater part of the diamonds he had concealed at the first plunder of the vessel. some of his men settled at boston; but he, afraid of selling his diamonds in new england, betook himself with a few companions to ireland, putting into one of the northern ports, and avoiding st. george's channel. the sailors now dispersed. some went to dublin, and some to cork, to obtain pardons from king william. avery, still afraid of being apprehended as a pirate if he offered his diamonds for sale, passed over to england, and sent for some bristol friends to bideford. they agreed, for a commission, to put the stones into the hands of bristol merchants who, being men of wealth and credit, would not be suspected. the merchants, after some negotiation, visited him at bideford, and, after many protestations of honour and integrity, received several packets of diamonds and some vessels of gold to dispose of. they gave him some money for his present necessities and departed. changing his name avery continued to live at bideford, visited by those relations to whom he confided his secret. the merchants, after many letters and much importunity, sent him small supplies of money, scarce sufficient to pay his debts and buy him bread. weary of this life, he ventured over privately to bristol, and to his dismay, when he desired them to come to an account with him, they threatened to proclaim him as a pirate, for men who had been robbed by him could be found on the 'change, in the docks, or in any street. afraid of their threats (for he never showed much personal courage), or detected by some sailor, he fled to ireland, and from thence again solicited the merchants, but in vain, for a supply. in a short time reduced to beggary, he resolved to throw himself upon their throats, and obtain money or revenge, and, working his passage on board a trading vessel to plymouth, travelled on foot to bideford. in a few days he fell sick and died, and was buried at the expense of the parish. to return to the deserted crews of the sloops. they, believing the separation an accident, sailed at once to the rendezvous, and then discovering the cheat, and having no more fresh provisions, resolved to establish themselves on land. they therefore made tents of their sails, and unloaded their vessels. on shore they were joined by the crew of a privateer which had been despatched by the government of bermuda to take the french factory of goree, in the river gambia, and had turned pirates by the way, captain tew, their captain, capturing a large arabian vessel in the strait of babelmandel, in spite of its crew and soldiers. by this prize his men gained £ a-piece, and but for the cowardice and mutiny of the quartermaster and some others would have captured five other ships. this leading to a quarrel, the band left off pirating, and retired to madagascar. captain tew sailed to rhode island, and obtained a pardon. the pirates lived at madagascar like little princes, each with his harem, and with large retinues of slaves, whom they employed in fishing, hunting, and planting rice. the english sided with some of the negro princes in their wars, and struck such terror in their adversaries by their fire-arms, that whole armies fled at the sight of two or three of the white faces. at first, these piratical chieftains waged war on each other, but at last, alarmed by a revolt of the negroes, united in strict union. before this they tied their slaves to trees, and shot them to death for the smallest offence; and at last the negroes, uniting in a general conspiracy, resolved to murder them all in one night. as they lived apart, this would undoubtedly have been done, had not one of their black concubines run nearly twenty miles in three hours to discover the plot. they instantly, upon this alarm, flocked together in arms, and compelled the advancing negroes to retire. this escape made them very cautious. they therefore fomented war between the native tribes, but henceforward remained neutral. all murderers and outlaws they took under their protection, and turned into body-guards, whilst the vanquished they defended. by this diplomacy, worthy of the most civilized people, they soon grew so powerful and numerous as to be compelled to branch out in colonies, parting into tribes, each with their wives and children. they had now all the power and all the fears of despotism. their houses were citadels, and every hut a fortress. they generally chose a place overgrown with wood, and situated near a spring or pool. round this spot they raised a rampart, encircled by a fosse. this wall was straight and steep, could not be ascended without scaling ladders, and had but one entrance. the hut was so hidden that it might not be seen at a distance. the passage that led to it was intricate, labyrinthine, and narrow, so that only one person could walk it abreast, and the path wound round and round, with so many cross-paths, that any one uninitiated might search for hours and not find the cabin. all along the sides of the path, huge thorns peculiar to the island were stuck into the ground, with points uppermost, like _chevaux-de-frise_, sufficient to impale the assailant who ventured by night. these men were found in this state by captain woods rogers, when he visited madagascar in the _delicia_ ( guns), wishing to buy slaves, to sell to the dutch of new holland. the men he met had been twenty-five years on the island, and had not seen a ship for seven years. the petty kings of the bush were covered with untanned skins, and were savage wretches, overgrown with beard and hair. they bartered slaves for cloths, knives, saws, powder, and ball. they went aboard the _delicia_ and examined her with care, and, talking familiarly with the men, invited them on shore, intending to surprise the ship by night when there was a slender watch kept, having plenty of boats and arms. they wanted the men to surprise the captain, and clap those who resisted under hatches. at a given signal, the negroes were to row on board, and then all would start as pirates and roam round the world. the captain, observing the intimacy, would not suffer his men to even speak with the islanders, choosing an officer to negotiate with them for slaves. these pirate kings were all foremast men, and could read no more than their chief secretaries could write. the chief prince of this newgate paradise had been a thames waterman, who had committed a murder on the river. as even a few years since an old sailor at minehead was known as the "king of madagascar," we suppose divine right and hereditary succession still continue in that eden of gaol-birds. during the time of war the pirates diminished in number and turned privateersmen, but increased at the peace of utrecht, when the disbanded privateersmen again turned thieves for want of excitement and some more honest employment. about , captain martel appeared as commander of a pirate sloop of eight guns and eighty men, that, cruising off jamaica, captured a galley and another small vessel, from the former of which he plundered £ . in their way to cuba they took two more sloops, which they rummaged and let go, and off cavena hoisted the black flag, and boarded a galley of twenty guns, called the _john and martha_. part of the men they put ashore and part enrolled in the crew. the cargo of logwood and sugar they seized, and, taking down one of the ship's decks, mounted her with twenty-two guns and men, and proceeded to cruise off the leeward islands, capturing a sloop, a brigantine, and a newfoundland vessel of twenty guns. they soon after plundered a jamaica vessel, and two ships from barbadoes, detaining all the best men, and from a guinea galley they stole some gold dust, elephants' teeth, and forty slaves. in , they put into santa cruz to clean and refit with a small piratical fleet of five vessels, warping up a little creek, very shallow, but guarded by rocks and sands. they then erected a battery of four guns on the island, and another of two guns near the road, while a sloop with eight guns protected the mouth of the channel. in november, , the commander-in-chief of all the leeward islands sent a sloop to barbadoes for the _scarborough_, of thirty guns and men, to inform her of the pirate. the captain had just buried twenty men, and having forty sick could scarcely put out to sea. however, putting on a bold heart, he left his sick behind and beat up for recruits at all the islands he passed. at antigua he took in twenty soldiers, at nevis ten, and the same number at st. christopher's. unable to find the pirate, he was on the point of putting back, when a boat from santa cruz informed him of a creek where he had seen a vessel enter. the _scarborough_ instantly sailed to the spot and discovered the pirates, but the pilot refused to enter. the pirates all this while fired red-hot shot from the shore; but at length the ship anchored alongside the reef and cannonaded the vessels and batteries. the sloop in the channel soon sank, and the larger vessel was much punished, but the _scarborough_, fearing the reef, stood off and on for a day or two and blockaded the creek. the pirates, endeavouring to warp out and slip away, ran aground, and, seeing the _scarborough_ again standing in, fired the ship and ran ashore, leaving twenty negroes to perish. nineteen escaped in a sloop, and the captain and twenty other negroes fled to the woods, where it is supposed they perished, as they were never heard of again. captain charles vane, our next viking, is known as one of the men who helped to steal the silver which the spaniards had fished up from their sunk galleons in the gulf of florida. when captain rogers with his two men-of-war conquered providence, and pardoned all the pirates who submitted, vane slipped his cable, fired a prize in the harbour, hoisted the black flag, and, firing a broadside at one of the men-of-war, sailed boldly away. capturing a barbadoes vessel, he manned it with twenty-five hands, and, unloading an interloper of its pieces of eight, careened at a key, and spent some time in a revel. in the next cruise they captured some spanish and new england vessels, and one laden with logwood. the crew of the latter they compelled to throw the lading overboard, intending to turn her into a pirate vessel, but in a fit of caprice suddenly let the men go and the ship with them. the prize captain, offended at vane's arrogance, left him, and surrendered himself and negroes to the governor of charlestown, receiving a free pardon. vane saluted the runaway with a broadside as he left, and lay wait for some time for him, but without success. soon after this two armed sloops started in pursuit of vane, and, failing in the capture, attacked and took another pirate vessel that was clearing at cape fear. in an inlet to the northward vane met blackbeard, and saluted him, according to piratical etiquette, with a discharge of his shotted guns. off long island he attacked a vessel that proved to be a french man-of-war, and gave chase; vane was for flight, but many of the men, in spite of the enemy's weight of metal and being twice their force, were for boarding. a pirate captain in all cases but that of fighting was controlled by a majority, but in this case had an absolute power; vane refused to fight, and escaped. the next day vane was branded by vote as a coward and deposed, and rackham, his officer, elected captain. vane and the minority were turned adrift in a sloop. putting into the bay of honduras, vane captured another sloop, and fitted it up as a pirate vessel, and soon after captured two more. vane was soon after shipwrecked on an island near honduras, and most of his men drowned; he himself being supported by the turtle fishermen. while in this miserable state, a jamaica vessel arrived, commanded by a buccaneer, an old acquaintance, to whom he applied to help him. the man refused, declaring vane would intrigue with his men, murder him, and run off as a pirate. on vane expressing scruples about stealing a fisherman's boat from the beach, the buccaneer declared that if he found him still there on his return he would take him to jamaica and hang him. soon after his friend's departure a vessel put in for water, and, not knowing vane to be a pirate, took him on board as a sailor. on leaving the bay the buccaneer met them and came on board to dine. passing to the cabin he spied vane working in the hold, and asked the captain if he knew that that was vane, the notorious pirate. the other then declared he would not have him, and the buccaneer, sending his mate on board with at loaded pistol, seized vane and took him to jamaica, where he was soon after hung. rackham, after a cruise among the caribbee islands, spent a christmas on shore, and when the liquor was all gone put to sea. their first prize was an ominous one, a ship laden with newgate convicts bound for the plantations, which was soon after retaken by an english ship of war. two others of his prizes were also recaptured while careening at the bahama islands by governor rogers, of new providence. they then sailed to the back of cuba, where rackham had a settlement, and there spent their plunder in debauchery. as they were fitting out for sea, they were attacked by a spanish guarda costa that had just captured an english interloper. rackham being protected by an island, the spaniards warped into the channel at dusk and waited for day. the pirates, roused to despair, boarded the spanish prize with pistols and cutlasses in the dead of the night, and, threatening the crew with death if they spoke, captured her almost without a blow, and slipping the cable stood out to sea. when day broke the spaniards opened a tremendous fire upon the deserted pirate vessel, but soon discovered their mistake. was spent in small cruises about jamaica, their crew being still short; they then swept off some fishing boats from harbour island, and landing in hispaniola, carried off some wild cattle and several french hunters. he then captured several more vessels, and was joined by the crew of a sloop in dry harbour bay. but their end was at hand. the governor of jamaica despatched a sloop in pursuit of them, who found the pirates carousing with a boat's crew from point negril, and they were soon overpowered. a fortnight after sentence of death was passed upon nine of them at a court of admiralty held at st. jago de la vega. five of them were executed at gallows point in port royal, and the four others the day after at kingston. rackham and two more were afterwards taken down and hung in chains, one at plumb point, one at busk-key, and the other at gun-key. by the terrible draconic laws of jamaica, the nine boatmen from port negril were also hung by their side. after such justice, can we wonder at the crimes to which despair too often drove the pirates? among these "unfortunate brave," as prior generously calls them, two female pirates are not to be forgotten. the first of these, mary reed, was the daughter of a sailor, whose wife having after his death given birth to an illegitimate girl, palmed it off as a boy, in order to excite the compassion of her husband's mother. being reduced in circumstances she put the girl out as a foot-boy, but she soon after ran to sea, and entered on board a man-of-war. quitting the sea service mary reed wintered over in flanders and obtained a cadetship in a regiment of foot, behaving herself in many actions with a great deal of bravery, and finally entering a regiment of horse. here she fell in love with a comrade, a young fleming, whom she eventually married, and set up an eating-house at beda, called "the three horse-shoes." her husband dying, and the peace ruining her trade, mary went into holland, and joined a regiment quartered on a frontier town, but, finding preferment slow, she shipped herself on board a vessel bound for the west indies. the vessel was taken by english pirates, and the amazon, being the only english sailor, was detained. a pardon soon afterwards being issued, the crew surrendered themselves, but mary reed sailed for new providence, and joined a privateer squadron fitting out there against the spaniards. the crews, who were pardoned pirates, soon rose against their commander, and resumed their old trade, and mary reed among them. abhorring the life of a pirate, she still was the first to board, and was as resolute as the bravest. by chance anne bonny, another disguised woman, being with the crew, discovered her sex, and soon after she fell in love with a sailor whom they took prisoner, and was eventually married to him. her husband hated his new profession as much as herself, and they were about to quit it when they were both taken prisoners. on one occasion mary reed, to prevent her husband fighting a duel, challenged his opponent to meet her on a sand island near which their ship lay, with sword and pistol, and killed him on the spot. at the trial she declared that her life had been always pure, and that she had never intended to remain a pirate. when they were taken, only she and anne bonny kept the deck, calling to those in the hold to come up and fight like men, and when they refused firing at them, killing one and wounding several. in prison she said the fear of hanging had never driven her from piracy, for but for the dread of that there would be so many pirates that the trade would not be worth following. great compassion was evinced for her in the court, but she was still found guilty, though being near her pregnancy, her execution was respited. she might have been pardoned, but a violent fever coming on soon after her trial she died in prison. her companion, anne bonny, was the illegitimate daughter of a cork attorney. her father, disguising the child as a boy, pretended it was a relative's son, and bred it up for a clerk. becoming ruined he emigrated to carolina, and turning merchant bought a plantation. upon her mother's death anne bonny succeeded to the housekeeping. she was of a fierce and ungovernable temper, and was reported to have stabbed an english servant with a case-knife. marrying a penniless sailor, her father turned her out of doors, and she and her husband fled to new providence, where he turned pirate. here she was seduced by captain rackham, and ran with him to sea, dressed as a sailor, and accompanied him in many voyages. the day that rackham was executed she was admitted to see him by special favour, but she only taunted him and said that she was sorry to see him there, but that if he had fought like a man he would not have been hung like a dog. becoming pregnant in prison she was reprieved, and, we believe, finally pardoned. captain howel davis, our next sea king, was a native of milford, who, being taken prisoner by england, was appointed captain of the vessel of which he had been chief mate. at first, he declared he would rather be shot than turn pirate, but eventually accepted sealed orders from england, to be opened at a certain latitude. on opening them, he found they directed him to make the ship his own, and go and trade at brazil. the crew, refusing to obey davis, steered for barbadoes, and put him in prison, but he was soon discharged. starting for new providence, the pirates' nest, he found the island had just surrendered to captain woods rogers. he here joined the ships fitting out for the spanish trade, and at martinique joined in a conspiracy, secured the masters, and started on a cruise against all the world. at a council of war, held over a bowl of punch, davis was unanimously elected commander, and the articles he drew up were signed by all the crew. they then sailed to coxon's-hole, at the east end of cuba, to clean, that being a narrow creek, where one ship could defend itself against a hundred, and, having no carpenter, they found some difficulty in careening. on the north side of hispaniola, they fell in with a french ship of twelve guns, which they took, and sent twelve men on board to plunder, being now very short of provisions. they had scarcely leaped on deck before another french vessel of twenty-four guns and sixty men hove in sight. this vessel davis proposed to attack, quite contrary to the wish of his crew, who were afraid of her size. when davis approached, the frenchmen bade him strike, but giving them a broadside, he said he should keep them in play till his consort arrived, when they should have but hard quarters. at this moment came up all the prisoners, having been dressed in white shirts, and forced on deck, and a dirty tarpaulin was hoisted for a black flag. the french captain, intimidated, instantly struck, and was at once, with ten of his hands, put in irons. the guns, small arms, and powder in the small ship were then removed, and the prize crew sent on board the larger vessel. part of the prisoners were put in the smaller and now defenceless bark. at the end of two days, finding the french prize a dull sailer, davis restored her to the captain, minus her ammunition and cargo. the frenchman, vexed at being so outwitted, would have destroyed himself had not his men prevented him. davis then visited the cape de verd islands, and left some of his men as settlers among the portuguese. they also plundered many vessels at the isle of may, obtained many fresh hands, and fitted one of their prizes with twenty-six guns, and called her the _king james_. at st. jago the governor accused them of being pirates, and davis resolved to resent the affront by surprising the fort by night. going on shore well armed, they found the guard negligent, and took the place, losing only three men. the fugitives barricaded themselves in the governor's house, into which the pirates threw grenades. by daybreak the whole country was alarmed, and poured down upon them, but they, unwilling to stand a siege, dismounted the fort guns and fought their way to their ships. mustering their hands, and finding themselves still seventy strong, they proposed to follow davis's advice, and attack gambia castle, where a great deal of money was always kept, for they had now such an opinion of davis's courage and prudence that they would have followed him anywhere. having come within sight of the place, he ordered all his men below but such as were absolutely necessary for the working of the vessel, that the people on shore might take her for a trader. he then ran close under the fort, anchored, and ordering out the boat, manned her with six plain-dressed men, himself as the master, and the rest attired as merchants. the men were instructed what to say. at the landing-place they were received by a file of musqueteers, and led to the governor, who received them civilly. they said they were from liverpool, bound to the river of senegal to trade for gums and ivory, but being chased to gambia by two french men-of-war, were willing to trade for slaves; their cargo, they said, being all iron and plate. the governor, promising them slaves, asked for a hamper of european liquor, and invited them to stay and dine. davis himself refused to stay, but left his two companions. on leaving he observed there was a sentry at the entrance, and a guard-house near, with the arms of the soldiers on duty thrown in one corner. going on board he assured his men of success, desired them to keep sober, and when the castle flag struck to send twenty hands immediately ashore. he then seized a sloop that lay near, for fear the crew should discern their preparations. he put two pairs of loaded pistols in his pocket, and made all his crew do the same, bidding them get into conversation with the guard, and when he fired a pistol through the governor's window, leap up and secure the piled arms. while dinner was getting ready, the governor began to brew a bowl of punch, when davis, at a whisper of the coxswain who had been reconnoitring the house, suddenly drew out a pistol, and, clapping it to the governor's breast, bade him surrender the fort and all his riches, or he was a dead man. the governor, taken by surprise, promised to be passive. they then shut the door, and loaded the arms in the hall, while davis fired his piece through the window. the men, hearing this signal, cocked their pistols, got between the soldiers and the arms, and carried them off, locking up the men in the guard-room, and guarding it without. then striking the flag, the rest of the crew tumbled on shore, and the fort was their own without the loss of a man. davis at once harangued the soldiers, and persuaded many to join him, and those who resisted he sent on board the sloop, which he first unrigged. the rest of the day they spent in salutes--ship to castle and castle to ship, and the next day plundered. much money had been lately sent away, so they found only £ , in bar gold, and many rich effects. they then dismounted the guns, and demolished the fortifications. a french pirate of guns, and sixty-four men, half french, half negroes, soon joined davis, and they sailed down the coast together. they soon after met another pirate ship, of guns, and spent several days in carousing. they then attacked in company the fort of sierra leone, and the garrison, after a stiff cannonade, surrendered the place and fled. here they spent seven weeks careening; and, capturing a galley, la bouce, the second captain, cut her half deck, and mounted her with guns. they now sailed together, and appointed davis commodore, but, like men of a trade, soon quarrelled, and parted company. off cape apollonia davis took several vessels, and off cape points bay attacked a dutch interloper, of guns, and ninety men. after many hours' fighting the dutchman surrendered to the black flag, having killed nine of davis's men at one broadside. this vessel davis called the _rover_, fitted with guns and swivels, and, sailing to anamaboe, captured several ships laden with ivory, gold dust, and negroes, saluting the fort, and then started for prince's island, a portuguese settlement near the same coast. they here captured a dutchman, a valuable prize, having the governor of acra and £ , , besides merchandise, on board, and recruited their force with thirty-five hands. the _king james_ springing a leak, they deserted her and left her to sink. at the isle of princes davis passed himself off for an english man-of-war in search of pirates, and was received with great honours by the governor, who approved of his openly plundering a french vessel which he accused of piracy. a few days after davis and fourteen of his men attempted to carry off the chief men's wives from a small village in which they lived, but failed in the attempt. but davis had determined to plunder the island by means of the following stratagem. he resolved to present the governor with a dozen negroes in return for his civilities, and afterwards to invite him with the friars and chief men of the island to an entertainment on board his ship. he would then clap them in irons, and not release them under a ransom of £ , . this plot proved fatal to him. a portuguese negro, swimming ashore at night, disclosed the whole. the governor dissembled and professed to fall into the snare. the next day davis went himself on shore to bring the governor on board, and was invited to take some refreshment at the government house. he fell at once into the trap. a prepared ambuscade rose and fired a volley, killing every pirate but one, who, running to the boat, got safely to the ship. davis, though shot through the bowels, rose, made a faint effort to run, drew out his pistols, fired at his pursuers, and fell dead. upon davis's death, bartholomew roberts was at once chosen commander, in preference to many other of the _lords_ or head seamen. the sailors said, that any captain who went beyond their laws should be deposed, but that they must have a man of courage and a good seaman to defend their commonwealth. one of the lords, whose father had suffered in monmouth's rebellion, swore roberts was a papist. in spite of all, roberts, who had been only taken prisoner six weeks before, was chosen commander. he told them that, "since he had dipped his hands in muddy water, and must needs be a pirate, he would rather be commander than mere seaman." their first thought was to avenge davis's death, for he had been much beloved for his affability and good nature. thirty men were landed, and attacked the fort in spite of the steep hill on which it was situated. the portuguese deserted the walls, and the pirates destroyed the guns. still unsatisfied, they would have burnt the town, had it not been protected by a thick wood, which furnished a cover to the enemy. they, however, mounted the french ship with twelve guns, running into shoal water, battered down several houses, and then sailed out of the harbour by the light of two ships to which they set fire. having taken two more vessels and burnt one of them, they started by general consent for brazil. cruising here for nine weeks and taking no prize, the pirates grew quite discouraged, and resolved to steer for the west indies, but soon after fell in with forty-two sail of portuguese ships laden for lisbon, and lying off the bay of los todos santos, waiting for two men-of-war of seventy guns each for their convoy. stealing amongst them, roberts hid his men till he had closed upon the deepest of them, threatening to give no quarter if the master was not instantly sent on board. the portuguese, alarmed at the sudden flourish of cutlasses, instantly came. roberts told him they were gentlemen of fortune, and should put him to death if he did not tell them which was the richest vessel of the fleet. the trembler pointed out a ship of forty guns and men, more force than roberts could command; but roberts, replying "they are only portuguese," bore down at once upon it. finding the enemy was aware of their being pirates, roberts poured in a broadside, grappled, and boarded. the dispute was short and warm. two of the pirates fell, and many of the portuguese. by this time it was pretty well seen that a fox had got into the poultry-yard. signals of top-gallant sheets were flying, and guns fired to bring up the convoy that still rode at anchor. roberts, finding his prize sail heavy, waited for the first man-of-war, which, basely declining the duel, lingered for its consort till roberts was out of sight. the prize proved exceedingly rich, being laden with sugar, skins, tobacco, and moidors, besides many gold chains and much jewellery. a diamond cross, which formed part of this spoil, they afterwards gave to the governor of caiana. elated with this spoil, they fixed on the devil's islands, in the surinam river, as a place for a revel, and, arriving there, found the governor ready to barter. much in want of provision, roberts threw himself, with forty men, into a prize sloop, in hopes of capturing a brigantine laden with provision from rhode island, which was then in sight, and was kept at sea by contrary winds for eight days. their food ran short, and failing in securing the prize, they despatched their only boat to bring up the ship. landing at dominica, roberts took on board thirteen englishmen, the crews of two new england vessels that had been seized by a french guarda costa. at this island they were nearly captured by a martinique sloop, but contrived to escape to the guadanillas. sailing for newfoundland they entered the harbour with their black colours flying, their drums beating, and trumpets sounding. the crews of twenty-two vessels fled on shore at their approach, and they proceeded to burn and sink all the shipping and destroy the fisheries and the houses of the planters. mounting a bristol galley that he found in the harbour with sixteen guns, roberts destroyed nine sail of french ships, and carried off for his own use a vessel of twenty-six guns. from many other prizes they pressed men and got plunder. the passengers on board the _samuel_, a rich london vessel, he tortured, threatening them with death if they did not disclose their money. his men tore up the hatches, and, entering the hold with axes and swords, cut and ripped open the bales and boxes. everything portable they seized, the rest they threw overboard, amidst curses and discharges of guns and pistols. they carried off £ worth of goods, the sails, guns, and powder. they told the captain "they should accept of no act of grace. the king might be d---- with their act of grace for them: they weren't going to hope point to be hung up sun-drying like kidd's and braddish's company were; and if they were overpowered they would set fire to the powder, and _go all merrily to hell together_." while debating whether to sink or burn the prize, they espied a sail, and left the _samuel_ tumultuously to give chase. it proved to be a bristol vessel, and hating bristol men because the martinique sloops were commanded by one, he used him with barbarous cruelty. their provisions growing scarce, roberts put into st. christopher's, and, being refused succours, fired on the town and burnt two ships in the road. they then visited st. bartholomew, where they were well received. sailing for guinea, weary of even debauchery, they captured a rich laden vessel from martinique, and changed ships. by some extraordinary ignorance of navigation, roberts, in trying to reach the cape verd islands, got to leeward of his port, and, obliged to go back again with the trade wind, returned to the west indies, steering for surinam, leagues distant, with one hogshead of water for souls. great suffering followed their pleasures in the islands of the sirens; each man obtained only one mouthful of water in twenty-four hours. many drank their urine or the brine and died fevered and mad; others wasted with fluxes. the rest had but an inch or two of bread in the day, and grew so feeble they could hardly reef and climb. they were all but dying, when they were suddenly brought into soundings, and at night anchored in seven fathoms water. thirsty in the sight of lakes and streams, and maddened with hunger, roberts tore up the floor of the cabin, and, patching together a canoe with rope yarn, paddled to shore and procured water. after some days, the boat returned with the unpleasant intelligence that the lieutenant had absconded with the vessel. this lieutenant kennedy's sail into execution dock we will give before we return to roberts. upon leaving caiana roberts's treacherous crew determined to abandon piracy. their portuguese prize they gave to the master of the prize sloop, a good-natured man, whose quiet philosophy under misfortune had astonished and pleased them. off barbadoes kennedy took a quaker's vessel from virginia, the captain of which allowed no arms on board, and his equanimity so attracted the pirates that eight of them returned with him to virginia. these men rewarded the sailors and gave £ worth of gold dust and tobacco to the peaceful captain. at maryland the treacherous quaker surrendered his friends, who were all hung on the evidence of some portuguese jews whom they had brought from brazil. off jamaica kennedy captured a flour vessel from boston, in which himself and many others embarked. this kennedy had been a pickpocket and a housebreaker, could neither read nor write, and had been only elected captain for his cruelty and courage. his crew, at first afraid of his treachery, would have thrown him overboard, but relented, on his taking solemn oaths of fidelity. of all these men only one knew anything of navigation, and he was so ignorant that, trying to reach ireland, he ran them ashore on scotland. landing they passed at first for shipwrecked sailors; seven of them reached london in safety, the rest were seized at edinburgh and hung, having attracted attention by rioting and drunken squandering. two others were murdered on the road. kennedy turned robber, and some years after was arrested as a pirate by the mate of a ship he had plundered, turned king's evidence, but was hung in . we must now return to roberts, whom we left swearing and vapouring on the coast of newfoundland. he began by drawing up a code of laws and establishing stricter discipline, and then steered for the west indies, capturing several vessels by the way, and was soon after pursued by a bristol galley of twenty guns and eighty men, and a sloop of ten guns and forty men, despatched by the governor of barbadoes. roberts, taking them for traders, attempted to board, but was driven off by a broadside, the king's men huzzaing as they fired. roberts, crowding all sail, took to flight and escaped, after a galling pursuit, by dint of throwing overboard his guns and heavy goods. he was henceforward particularly severe to barbadian vessels, so deeply established were the principles of justice and compensation in the mind of this great man. in the morning, they saw land, but at a great distance, and dispatching a boat, it returned late at night with a load of water: they had reached surinam. the worst blasphemer heard the words, and fell upon his knees to thank a god whom he had so often denied. they swore that the same providence which had given them drink would bring them meat. taking provisions from several vessels, roberts touched at tobago, and then sailed to martinique to revenge himself on the governor. adopting the custom of the dutch interlopers, he hoisted a jack and sailed in as if to trade. he was soon surrounded by a swarm of sloops and smacks; then sending all the crews on shore on board one vessel, minus their money, he fired twenty others. his new flag bore henceforward a representation of himself trampling on the skulls of a barbadian and martinique man. at dominica he took several vessels, and several others at guadaloupe, and then put into a key off hispaniola to clean and refit. while here, the captains of two piratical sloops visited him, having heard of his fame and achievements, to beg from him powder and arms. after several nights' revel, roberts dismissed them, hoping "the lord would prosper their handy works." three of their men, who had long excited suspicion by their reserve and sobriety, deserted, but being recaptured were put upon their trial. the jury sat in the steerage, before a bowl of rum punch; the judge on the bench smoked a pipe. sentence was already passed, when one of the jury, with a volley of oaths, swore glashby (one of the prisoners) should not die. "he was as good a man as the best of them, and had never turned his back to a man in his life. glashby was an honest fellow in spite of his misfortune, and he loved him. he hoped he would live and repent of what he had done; but d---- if he must die, he would die along with him," and as he spoke he handled a pair of loaded pistols, and presented them at two of the judges, who, thinking the argument good, at once acquitted glashby. the rest, allowed to choose their executioners, were tied to the mast and shot. amply stocked with provision, they now sailed for guinea to buy gold dust, and on their passage burnt and sank many vessels. roberts, finding his crew mutinous and unmanageable, assumed a rude bearing, offering to fight on shore any one who was offended, with sword or pistol, for he neither feared nor valued any. on their way to africa they were deserted by a prize, a brigantine, which they had manned. roberts being insulted by a drunken sailor, killed him on the spot. his messmate returning from shore declared the captain deserved the same fate. roberts hearing this stabbed him with his sword, but in spite of the wound the seaman threw him over a gun and gave him a beating. a general tumult ensued, which was appeased by the quartermaster, and the majority agreeing that the captain must be supported at all risks, the sailor received two lashes from every man on board as soon as he recovered from his wound. this man then conspired with the captain of the brigantine and his seventy hands, and agreed to desert roberts, as they soon after did on the first opportunity. near the river of senegal the pirates were chased by two french cruisers of ten and sixteen guns, who mistook him for one of those interlopers for whom they were on the look-out. the pair surrendered, however, with little resistance on the first shot of the _jolly roger_, and with these prizes they put into sierra leone. about thirty retired buccaneers and pirates lived here, one of whom, who went by the name of crackers, kept two cannon at his door to salute all pirate ships that arrived. they found that the _swallow_ and _weymouth_ men-of-war, fifty guns, had just been there, and would not return till christmas; so, after six weeks' debauch, they put out again to sea, plundering along the coast. they exchanged one of their vessels for a french frigate-built ship, pressing the sailors, and allowing some soldiers on board to sail with them for a quarter share. they found an english chaplain on board, and wanted him to go with them to make punch and say prayers, but as he refused they let him go, detaining nothing of the property of the church but three prayer-books and a corkscrew. this ship they altered by pulling down the bulkheads and making her flush. they then christened her the _royal fortune_, and mounted her with forty guns. they next proceeded to calabar, where a shoal protected the harbour. enraged at the negroes refusing to trade, they landed forty men under protection of the ships' fire, drove back a party of natives, and then burnt their town. still unable to obtain provisions, they returned to cape apollonia. here they took a vessel called the _king solomon_, boarding her from the long boat in spite of a volley from the ship, the pirates shouting defiance. the captain would have resisted, but the boatswain made the men lay down their arms and cry for quarter. they then cut her cable, and rifled her of everything. they next cut the mast of a dutch vessel, and strung the sausages they found on board round their necks, killing the fowls, and inviting the captain to drink from his own but, singing obscene french and spanish songs from his dutch prayer-book. going too near the land they alarmed the coast, and the english and dutch factories spread signals of danger. entering whydah with st. george's ensign and a black flag flying, eleven ships instantly surrendered without a blow; most of the crews being, in fact, ashore. each captain ransomed his cargo for lbs. of gold dust, upon which they gave him acquittals, signed with sham names, as "whiffingpin" and "tugmutton." one vessel full of slaves refusing to give any ransom, he set fire to it, and burnt eighty negroes who were chained in the hold; a few leaped overboard to avoid the flames, and were torn to pieces by the sharks that swarmed in the road. discovering from an intercepted letter that the _swallow_ was after him, roberts put back to the island of anna bona, but the wind failing steered for cape lopez. the cruiser had lost men from sickness in a three weeks' stay at prince's island, and, unable to return to sierra leone, turned to cape corso, unknown to roberts, who was ignorant of the causes that had led to their return. receiving many calls for help, and finding the trade of the whole coast disturbed, the _swallow_ sailed for whydah. the crew were impatient to attack the pirates, learning that they had an arms' chest full of gold, secured by three keys. recruiting thirty volunteers, english and french, the _swallow_ reached the river gaboon, and soon discovered the pirates, one of whom gave them chase, believing her a portuguese sugar vessel, and the sugar for their punch now ran short. the pirates were cursing the wind and the sails that kept them from so rich a prey, when the _ranger_ suddenly brought to and hauled up her lower ports, while the first broadside brought down their black flag. hoisting it again, they flourished their cutlasses on the poop, but tried to escape. some prepared to board, but, after two hours' firing, their maintop came down with a run, and they struck, having had ten men killed and twenty wounded. the _swallow_ did not lose one. the _ranger_ carried thirty-two guns, and was manned by sixteen frenchmen, seventy-seven english, and ten negroes. their black colours were thrown overboard. as the _swallow_ was sending a boat to board, an explosion was heard, and a smoke poured out of the great cabin. it appeared that half a dozen of the most desperate had fired some powder, but it was too little to do anything but burn them terribly. the commander, a welshman, had had his leg shot off, and had refused to allow himself to be carried below. the rest were gay and brisk, dressed in white shirts and silk waistcoats, and wearing watches. an officer said to a man whom he saw with a silver whistle at his belt--"i presume you are boatswain of this ship." "then you presume wrong," said the pirate, "for i am boatswain of the _royal fortune_--captain roberts, commander." "then, mr. boatswain, you'll be hanged," said the officer. "that is as your honour pleases," said the man, turning away. the officer asking about the explosion, he swore "they are all mad and bewitched, for i have lost a good hat by it." he had been blown out of the cabin gallery into the sea. "but what signifies a hat, friend?" said the officer. "not much," he answered. as the sailors stripped off his shoes and stockings, the officer asked him if all robert's crew were as likely men as himself? he answered, "there are of them as clever fellows as ever trod shoe-leather; would i were with them." "no doubt on't," said the officer. "it's naked truth," said the man laughing, as he looked down at his bare feet. the officer then approached another man, black and scorched, who sat sullenly alone in a corner. he asked him how it happened. "why," said he, "john morris fired a pistol into the powder, and if he had not done it i would." the officer said he was a surgeon, and offered to dress his wounds, which he bore without a groan. he swore it should not be done and he would tear off the dressing, so he was then overpowered and bandaged. at night he grew delirious and raved about "brave roberts," who would soon release him. the men then lashed him down to the forecastle, as he resisted with such violence to his burnt sore flesh that he died next day of mortification. the other pirates they fettered, and sent the shattered ship, scarcely worth preserving, into port. the next day roberts appeared in sight with a prize, and his men ran to tell him of the cruizer as he was dining in the cabin with the prisoner captain. roberts declared the vessel was his own returning, or nothing but a portuguese or french slave ship, and laughed at the cowards who feared danger, offering to strike the most apprehensive. as soon as he discovered his mistake he slipped his cable, got under sail, and ordered his men to arms, declaring it was "a bite." he appeared on deck dressed in crimson damask, with a red feather in his cocked hat, a gold chain and diamond cross round his neck, a sword in his hand, and two pairs of pistols hanging pirate-fashion from a silk sling over his shoulders. his orders were given in a loud voice and with unhesitating boldness. informed by a deserter that the _swallow_ sailed best upon a wind, he resolved to go before it, if disabled to run ashore and escape among the negroes, or if, as many of his men were drunk, everything else failed, to board and blow up both vessels. exchanging a broadside he made all sail he could crowd, but steering ill was taken aback and overtaken. at this critical moment a grapeshot struck him on the throat, and he sat calmly down on the tackle of a gun and died. the man at the helm running to his assistance, and not seeing a wound, thought his heart had failed him, and bade him stand up and fight it out like a man, and remember the _jolly roger_. discovering his mistake the rough sailor burst into tears, and prayed the next shot might strike him. the pirates then threw their captain overboard, with all his arms and ornaments, as he had often requested in his life. when roberts fell the men deserted their quarters and fell into a torpor, till their mainmast being shot away compelled them to surrender. some of the crew lit matches and tried to blow up the magazine, but the rest prevented them. the black flag, crushed under the fallen mast, they had no time to destroy. the _royal fortune_ was found to have forty guns and men, forty-five of them being negroes. only three were killed in the action, and the _swallow_ did not lose a man. she had upwards of £ of gold dust in her. from the other vessel the same quantity was embezzled by an english captain, who sailed away before the _swallow_ arrived. the prisoners were mutinous under restraint, and cursed and upbraided each other for the folly that had brought them into that trap. for fear of an outbreak they were manacled and shackled in the gun-room, which was strongly barricaded, and officers with pistol and cutlass placed to guard it night and day. the pirates laughed at the short commons, and swore they should be too light to hang. those who read and prayed were sneered at by the others. "give me hell," said one blasphemer; "it is a merrier place than heaven, and at my entrance i'll give roberts a salute of thirteen guns." the whole of the prisoners made a formal complaint against "the wretch with a prayer-book," as a common disturber. a few of the more violent conspired, having loosened their shackles, to rise, kill the officers, and run away with the ship. a mulatto boy who attended them, conveyed messages from one to the other, but the very evening of the outbreak two prisoners heard the whispers, and warned the officers. they were then treated rougher, and heavier chains put on. the negroes and surgeon on board the other ship also contrived a conspiracy, the surgeon knowing a little of the ashantee language. they were betrayed by a traitor, all re-chained, and brought to cape corso castle to be tried. here they grew chapfallen, forgot to jest, and begged for good books. some joined in prayers, and others sang psalms. brawny, sunburnt, scarred men were seen spelling out hymns, and, through the blood-red haze of a thousand crimes, trying with moistened eyes to look back to calm sunday evenings when fond mothers had first taught them the words of long since forgotten prayers. when the ropes were fitting only one appeared dejected, and he had been ill with a flux. a surgeon of the place was charitable enough to offer himself as chaplain, and represented to them the urgent need of repentance and the tender forgiveness of a saviour. they hardly listened to him, but some begged caps of the soldiers, for the sun was burning on their bare heads. others asked for a single draught of water. when they were pressed to speak of religion, they burst into curses, and imprecated vengeance on their judge and jury, saying they were hung as poor rogues, but many worse escaped because they were rich. he then implored them to be in charity with all the world, and asked their names and ages. they said, "what is that to you? we suffer the law, and shall give no account but to god." one cursed a woman in the crowd for coming to see him hung, and another laughed at their tying his hands behind him, "for he had seen many a good fellow hung, but never that done before." a third said, the sooner the better, so he might get out of pain. nine others showed much penitence. one obtained a short reprieve, and devoted it to prayer, singing the thirty-first psalm at the foot of the gallows. another (the deserter) exhorted the seamen to a good life, and sang a psalm. the next instant a gun was fired, and he swung from the fore-yard-arm. bunce, the youngest of them all, made a pathetic speech, and begged forgiveness of god and all mankind. seeing the gallows standing on a rock above the sea, he took a last look at the element which he had so often braved, and saying, he stood "as a beacon on a rock to warn mariners of danger," was turned off by the hangman. captain worly, the next adventurer, embarked in an open boat, with eight other men, from new york in , captured a shallop up the delaware river, and soon took many other vessels, pursuing an english cruiser from sandy hook. he had now twenty-five men and six guns, and his crew had taken an oath to receive no quarter. while careening in an inlet in north carolina he was attacked by two government sloops. these cruisers boarded him on either side, and the pirates fought so desperately that only the captain and another man were taken prisoners, and being much wounded were hung the next day for fear they should die, and the law not have its due. captain george lowther was originally second mate on board a vessel carrying soldiers to a fort of the royal african company's on the river gambia, the very one that had been destroyed by davis. captain massey, who commanded these men, offended at the arrogance of the merchants, plotted with lowther, who had been ill-treated by his captain, to run away with the vessel. they then started as pirates--their vessel, the _delivery_, having fifty men and sixteen guns. the worthy partners soon quarrelled, massey knowing nothing of the sea and lowther nothing of the land. massey wished to land with thirty men and attack the french in hispaniola, but lowther refused his consent; and when lowther resolved to scuttle a ship, massey interposed in its behalf. massey, soon after this, being put on board a prize with ten malcontents, gave himself up at jamaica, and was sent to cruise in search of his old partner. massey wrote to the african company, and prayed to be forgiven, or at least shot as a soldier, and not hung as a pirate. he then came to london, gave himself up, and was soon after hung. off hispaniola lowther captured two vessels--one of them a spaniard, the crew of which, in consideration of their being also pirates, and having just boarded an english ship, were drifted off in their own launch, but the english sailors were enrolled in their own crew. they then put into a key, cleaned, and spent some time in revelry. starting again about christmas, at the grand caimanes they met with a small pirate vessel, commanded by a captain named low, who now became lowther's lieutenant. the old ship they sank, and soon after attacked a boston vessel, the _greyhound_, which, though only tons, refused to bring to in answer to lowther's gun, and held out for an hour before she struck her ensign, seeing resistance hopeless. the pirates whipped, beat, and cut these men cruelly, and at last set fire to their vessel, and left them to burn and perish. they soon after burnt and sank several new england sloops; a vessel of jamaica they generously sent back to her master, and two other vessels they fitted up for their own use, mounting one with eight carriage and ten swivel guns. with this little fleet, admiral lowther, in the _happy delivery_, went to the gulf of matique to careen, carrying ashore all their sails and stores, and putting them in tents on the beach. while the ships, however, were on the keel, and the men busy heaving, scrubbing, and tallowing, they were attacked by a large body of the natives. burning the _happy delivery_, their largest ship, and leaving all their stores behind, they then turned one sloop adrift, and all embarked in the other, the _ranger_. this disaster, and the shortness of provisions, soon produced mutiny and mutual recrimination. in may they went to the west indies, capturing a brigantine, which they plundered and sank, and then started for new england. low and lowther always quarrelling, at last parted, low taking forty-four hands in the brigantine, and leaving the same number in the sloop to lowther. the latter for some time captured nothing but fishing vessels, and a new england ship with a cargo of sugar from barbadoes. off the coast of south carolina, being pursued by an english vessel that he had imprudently attacked, he was driven on shore in his attempts to escape. the english captain, in attempting to board, was shot, and his mate declined the combat. the pirate sloop soon put again to sea, but much shattered, and with many of the crew killed and wounded. the winter low spent in repairing, in an inlet of north carolina, where his men pitched tents, and lived on the wild cattle they shot in the woods, while in very cold nights they slept on board the ship. after a cruise round newfoundland the pirates sailed for the west indies, and put into a creek in the island of blanco, not far from tortuga, to careen. here they were attacked by the _eagle_ sloop of barbadoes, belonging to the south sea company. she fired a gun first to make lowther show his colours, and then boarded. lowther and twelve of his crew made their escape out of a cabin window after their vessel had struck. the master of the _eagle_, with twenty-five men, spent five days in search of the fugitives, and, capturing eight only of them, returned to cumana. the spanish governor applauding the _eagle_ condemned the sloop, and sent a small vessel with twenty-five hands to scour the patches of _lignum vitæ_ trees that covered the low level island, and took four pirates, but lowther and three men and a boy still escaped. it is supposed he then destroyed himself, as he was found soon after by some sailors dead, beside a bush, with a burst pistol by his side. of his companions nine were hung at st. christopher's, two pardoned, and five acquitted; four the spaniards condemned to slavery for life, three to the galleys, and the others to the castle of arraria. captain spriggs was another of this same gang, having been quartermaster to lowther. in spriggs, with eighteen men, sailed by night from the coast of guinea, in the _delight_ (a man-of-war) taken by low, for they had quarrelled as to the punishment of a pirate who had murdered another. low was for mercy and spriggs for the yard-arm. they then chose spriggs captain, hoisted the black flag, and fired all their guns to honour his inauguration. in their voyage to the west indies they plundered a portuguese bark, tortured the crew, set them adrift in a boat with a small quantity of provisions, and then burnt the vessel. the crew of a barbadoes sloop they cut and beat for refusing to serve with them, and turned them off like the portuguese. they next rummaged a logwood ship from jamaica, cut the cable, broke the windows, destroyed the cabins, and when the mate refused to go with them, every man in the vessel gave him ten lashes, which they called "writing his discharge" in red letters flaring on his back. george the second's birthday they spent in roaring out healths, shouting, and drinking, expecting that there would be an amnesty at his accession, and vowing, if they were excepted, to murder every englishman they met. they next gave chase to a vessel (supposed to be a spaniard), till the crew made a lamentable cry for quarter, and they discovered it was the logwood vessel they had turned off three days before, not worth a penny. enraged at this, fifteen of them flew at the captain and cut him down, though his mate, who had joined the pirates, interceded for his life. it being midnight, and nearly all, as usual at such an hour, drunk, it was unanimously agreed to make a bonfire of the jamaica ship. they then called the bleeding captain down into the cabin to supper, and made him, with a sword and pistol at his breast, eat a dish of candles, treating all the crew in the same way. twenty days afterwards they landed the captain and a passenger on a desert island in the bay of honduras, giving them powder, ball, and one musket. here they supported life for fifteen days, till two marooned sailors coming in a canoe paddled them to another island, where they got food and water. espying a sloop at sea, they made a great smoke and were taken off after nineteen days' more suffering. spriggs, while laying wait to take his revenge on the _eagle_, was pursued by a french man-of-war from martinique, and then went to newfoundland to obtain more men and attack captain harris, who had lately taken another pirate vessel. of their future fate we hear nothing. let us hope they sailed on till they reached gallows point and there anchored. john gow was one of the crew of an amsterdam galley, who in , in a voyage to barbary, plotted to murder the captain and seize the vessel. having first cut his throat they tried to throw him overboard, but as he grappled with them gow and the second mate and gunner shot him through the body. they then murdered the chief mate and the clerk, who was asleep in his hammock; the latter, handing the key of his chest, begged for time to say his prayers, but a sailor shot him as he knelt, with a pistol that burst as he fired. the murders being over, one of the red-handed men came on deck, and, striking a gun with his cutlass, cried "you are welcome, captain gow, to your new command." gow then swore that if any whispered together or refused to obey orders, they should go the same way as those that had just gone. they plundered a french fruit vessel and some others, but were soon after stranded on the orkney coast, where they had intended to clean, were apprehended by a gentleman named fea, and brought up to london. gow obstinately refusing to plead, his thumbs were tied with whipcord till they broke. as he still remained silent he was ordered by the draconic law of those days to be pressed to death. when the preparations were completed gow's courage failed him, he sullenly pleaded not guilty, and was soon after, with nine of his crew at the same time, executed. captain weaver, of the _good fortune_, brigantine, which had taken some sixty sail off the banks of newfoundland, on his return from thence came to bristol, and passed himself off as a sailor who had escaped from pirates, walking openly about the town. here he was met by a captain whom he had once plundered, and who invited him to share a bottle in a neighbouring tavern, telling him he had been a great sufferer by the loss of his ship, but that for four hogsheads of sugar he would never mention the affair again. unable to obtain this compensation he arrested weaver, who was soon after hung. captain edward low, our last commodore, was originally a london thief, the head of a gang of westminster boys, and a gambler among the footmen in the lobby of the house of commons. one of his brothers was the first thief who stole wigs by dressing as a porter, and carrying a boy on his head in a covered basket. he ended his days at tyburn. low was originally a logwood cutter at honduras, but quarrelling with his captain, and attempting his life, put off to sea with twelve companions, and taking a sloop, hoisted a black flag, and declared war against the world. of his adventures with lowther we have already made mention. in may, , while off rhode island, the governor ordered a drum to beat up for volunteers, and fitted out two sloops with men to pursue him, but low contrived to escape, and soon after running into port rosemary, seized thirteen vessels at one stroke, arming a schooner of ten guns for his own use, putting eighty men on board, and calling her the _fancy_. he was soon after beaten off by two armed sloops from boston. low waiting too long for his consort, a brigantine, to come up, in steering for the leeward islands, they were overtaken by a dreadful storm, the same which drowned people at jamaica, and nearly destroyed the town of port royal. the pirates escaped by dint of throwing over all their plunder and six of their guns, and put into one of the caribbees to refit, buying provisions of the natives. in this storm it was that forty sail of ships were cast away in port royal harbour. once refitted, low sailed into st. michael's road, and took seven sail, threatening with present death all who dared to resist. being without water, he sent to the governor demanding some, and declaring that if none were sent he would burn all his prizes. on the governor's compliance he released six, and fitted up the seventh for himself. another one they burnt. the crews they compelled to join them, all but one french cook, who was so fat that they said he would fry well. they then bound him to the mast, and allowed him to burn with the ship. the crew of another galley they cruelly cut and mangled, and two portuguese friars they tied up to the yard-arm, pulling them up and down till they were dead. a portuguese passenger looking sorrowfully on at these brutalities, one of the pirates cried out that he did not like his looks, and cut open his belly with his cutlass, so that he fell down dead. another of the men, cutting at a prisoner, slashed low across the upper lip, so as to lay the teeth bare. the surgeon was called to stitch up the wound, but the medical man being drunk, low cursed him for his bungling. he replied by striking low a blow in the mouth that broke the stitches, telling him to sew up his chops himself. off madeira, they seized a fishing boat, and obtained water by a threat of hanging the fishermen. while careening at the cape verd islands, after making many prizes, low sent a sloop to st. michael's in search of two vessels, but his crew were seized and condemned to slavery for life. in careening his other ship, it was lost, and low had now to fall back on his old schooner, the _fancy_, which he sailed in with a hundred men. proceeding to the west indies, they captured, after some resistance, a rich portuguese vessel called the _nostra signora de victoria_, bound home from bahia. several of the crew they tortured till they confessed that during the chase their captain had hung a bag of , moidors out of the cabin window, and when the ship was taken dropped it into the sea. the pirates, in a fury at this, cut off his lips, broiled them before his face, and then murdered him and thirty-two of his crew. in the next month they seized four vessels, burning all those from new england. in the bay of honduras low boarded a spanish sloop of six guns and seventy men, that had that morning captured five english vessels. finding out this from the prisoners in the hold, these butchers proceeded to destroy the whole crew, plunging among them with pole-axes, swords, and pistols. some leaped into the hold and others into the sea. twelve escaped to shore: the rest were knocked on the head in the water. while the pirates were carousing on land, one wounded wretch, fainting with his wounds, came to them and begged in god's name for quarter, upon which a brutal sailor replied, he would give him good quarters, and, forcing him down on his knees, ran the muzzle of his gun down his throat, and shot him. they then burnt the vessel, and forced the english prisoners to return to new york, and not to jamaica. hating all men of new england, low cut off the ears of a gentleman of that nation, and tied burning matches between the fingers of some other prisoners. the crew of a whaler he whipped naked about the deck, and made the master eat his own ears with pepper and salt. on one occasion, the captain of a virginian vessel refusing to pledge him in a bowl of punch, he cocked a pistol and compelled him to drain the whole quart. off south carolina, his consort was taken by a cruiser, but low basely deserting him, escaped, and off newfoundland took eighteen ships, and in july, , he fitted up a prize called the _merry christmas_, with thirty-four guns, and assumed the title of admiral, hoisting a black flag, with the figure of death in red. at st. michael he cut out of the road a london vessel of fourteen guns, which the men refused to defend. the ears of the captain low cut off, for daring to attempt resistance, and giving him a boat to escape in, burnt his ship. he then visited the canaries, cape de verd islands, and lastly, the coast of guinea. at sierra leone he captured the _delight_, of twelve guns, which he supplied with sixteen guns, and sixty men, appointing spriggs, his quartermaster, as captain, who two days after deserted him, and sailed for the west indies. of the end of this detestable monster we know nothing, but if there is any truth in old adages, he could not have well perished by a mere storm. the best account of a pirate's life extant is to be found in captain roberts's narrative of the loss of his vessel in , preserved in astley's amusing collection of voyages, four dusty quartos, that contain a mine of "auld warld" information. this captain roberts, it appears, contracted with some london merchants to go to virginia, to fit out a sloop, named the _dolphin_, with a cargo "to slave with" on the coast of guinea, and then to return to trade at barbadoes. arriving at that island, in , he was discharged, and upon that bought the _margaret_ sloop, and started again for the african coast. at curisal he turned up to procure a supply of wood and water, and the next morning after his arrival, it being calm as day broke, he looked out and espied three sail of ships off the bay, and making one of them plain with his glass, observed that she was full built and loaded, and supposed that she and her companions wanted water, as they first brought to, then edged away without making any signals. as soon as the day broke clean and they made his ship, one of them stood right in towards her, and as the sun rose and the wind freshened, tacked more to the eastward. as she drew nigher, roberts found her by his glass to be a schooner full of hands, all in white shirts; and when he saw a whole tier of great guns grinning through the port-holes, he began to suspect mischief. but it was now too late to escape, as it held calm within the bay, and the three ships came crowding in as fast as the wind, flaunting out an english ensign, jack, and pendant. roberts then hoisted his ensign. the first of the three that arrived had guns, patereroes, men, and stretching ahead hailed him. roberts said he was of london, and came from barbadoes. they answered, with a curse, that they knew that, and made him send a boat on board. the pirate captain, john lopez, a portuguese, who passed himself off as john russel, an englishman, from the north country, asked them where their captain was. they pointed him out roberts, walking the deck. he instantly called out, "you dog, you son of a gun, you speckled shirt dog!" for roberts had just turned out, wore a speckled holland shirt, and was slipshod, without stockings. roberts, afraid if he showed contempt by continued silence they would put a ball through him, thought it best to answer, and cried "holloa!" upon which russel said, "you dog you, why did you not come aboard with the boat? i'll drub you within an inch of your life, and that inch too." roberts meekly replied that only the boat being commanded aboard, he did not think he had been wanted, but if they would please to send the boat, he would wait upon him. "ay, you dog you," said the portuguese, "i'll teach you better manners." upon this eight of the pirates boarded, and took possession of the ship, and as soon as roberts came alongside, the pirate began again to threaten to drub him for daring to affront him; and when he declared he meant no offence, cried out, "d--n you, you dog, don't stand there to chatter, come aboard," and stood with a cutlass ready drawn to receive him. while still hesitating, the gunner, who wore a gold-laced hat, looked over the side, and said, "come up, master, you shan't be abused." when he got up, the pirate raised his sabre as if to cut him down, asking what a dog deserved for not coming aboard when the boat was first sent. roberts replied, if he had done amiss, it was through ignorance, as he did not know what they were. "curse you," said the pirate, "who do you think we are?" roberts now trembled for fear, for having once been captured by pirates at newfoundland, he knew--one wrong word and the knife was at his throat. after a short pause, he said, "i believed you were gentlemen of fortune belonging to the sea." at this the portuguese, a little pacified, said, "you lie, we are pirates." after vapouring for some time, the pirate asked, in a sneering tone, why roberts had not put on his clothes to visit gentlemen. roberts replied, that he did not know of the visit when he dressed, and, besides, came in such a fright on account of their threats, that he had very little thought or stomach to change clothes, still, if it would please them to grant him the liberty, he would go and put on better clothes, hoping it was not yet too late. "d--n you," said the pirate, "yes, it is too late; what clothes you took you shall keep, but your sloop and what is in her is ours." roberts said, he perceived it was, but hoped, as he lay at their mercy, they would be so generous as to take only what they had occasion for and leave him the rest. the portuguese said, "that was a company business, and he could say nothing about that yet." he then bade him give an account of his cargo and money, and of everything aboard his sloop, for if upon rummaging they found the least article concealed, they would burn the vessel and him in her. the pirates standing by also begged him to make a full discovery of all money, arms, and ammunition, which were the chief things they sought after, for it was their way to punish liars and concealers very severely. roberts then drew up an account from memory, and asked to see his ship's papers that he might complete it. russel said, "no, he would take care of the papers, and if anything was found missing in the inventory he must look out for squalls." during this time the pirates were rummaging the sloop, but found nothing but a ring and a pair of silver buckles not inserted in the list. during the capture a portuguese priest and six black fishermen, taken on board at the isle of sal, who had been sent on shore, escaped to the hills. russel, seeing them, told roberts that he had captured the fishing sloop to which the fugitives belonged, but one of his gang had run away with it, carrying off £ in cash, in addition. russel then slipped cable and made roberts pilot them to paraghisi, in company with their other vessel, the _rose pink_, of thirty-six guns, commanded by edmund loe, their commodore. at paraghisi they landed thirty-five men and captured the fugitive priest, five negroes, and the old governor's son. russel on his return was received with great ceremony by his commander, the gunner acting as master of the ceremonies and presenting roberts. captain loe welcomed him aboard with the usual compliments, "it's not my desire, captain," he said, "to meet with any of my countrymen (but rather foreigners), excepting some few whom i want to chastise for their roguishness; but, however, since fortune has ordered it so that you have fallen into our hands, i would have you be of good cheer and not cast down." roberts replied, "i am very sorry, sir, that i chanced to fall in your way, but i feel i am still in the hands of gentlemen of honour and generosity, in whose power it is still to make my capture no misfortune." loe said, "it does not lie singly in my breast, for all business of this nature is determined by a majority of votes in the whole company, and though neither i nor, i believe, any of the rest desire to meet with any of our nation, yet when we do it cannot well be avoided to take as our own what providence sends us; and, as we are gentlemen who depend entirely on fortune, we durst not be so ungrateful to her as to despise any of her favours, however mean, for fear that she might withdraw her hand and leave us to perish for lack of those very things we had slighted." after this philosophical utterance, the great man, who sat astride on a great gun, and not, like other potentates, in a chair of state, without moving from his place, begged roberts, with much condescension, to make himself at home, requesting to know what he would drink. the broken-spirited man, still trembling for his life, replied, "he did not care then much for drinking, but out of a sense of the honour they did him in asking he would drink anything he chose." loe told him "not to be cast down, it was the fortune of war: d----, sir, care killed the cat, and fretting thinned the blood and was d---- bad for the health. to please the company he should be brisk and cheerful and he would soon have better fortune." he then rang the bell and bade one of the _valets de cabin_ bring in a bowl of punch. this was brought and mixed in a rich silver bowl holding two gallons. he then called for some wine, and two bottles of claret being brought, roberts sipped at the claret while loe drained the bowl with his usual philosophy and contentment. as he grew warm with the fragrant draught, he told roberts that he was a d----d good fellow, and he would do him all the favours he could, but wished he had had the good fortune to have been captured ten days earlier, when they had taken two portuguese outward bound brazilmen, laden with cloth, woollens, hats, silk, and iron, for he believed he could have prevailed on his company to have loaded roberts's ship. "but now unfortunately," he added, as he put down the empty bowl, "they had no goods at all, having flung all the brazil stuffs into david jones's locker (the sea). he did not know, however, but he might meet roberts again (such things did come round), and then if it lay in his way he would make roberts a return for his loss, for he might depend on his readiness to serve him as far as his power or interest could reach." to this outburst of sympathy roberts replied by bowing and sipping his unrelished glass of claret. while they were talking word was brought that quartermaster-general russel had arrived with the prisoners, and the commodore, ordering the empty bowl to be removed, bade them come in. russel, the chief officers, and the prisoners then crowded into the cabin, and to the question of "how goes the game?" russel gave an account of his expedition. on landing they had at once seized two blacks, who had been sent by the governor as heralds, and used them as guides. though the road was uneven and rocky they reached the town, twelve miles distant, that night, surprising the governor and priest. russel told them, that hearing they had great stores of dollars hoarded up, he had come to share it with them, as it was one rule of his trade to keep money moving and circulation brisk. the priest said they had none, and the island was barren and uncultivated. russel said he had only two senses, seeing and feeling, which could convince him the information was false. the priest then lit a number of consecrated wax-candles, and allowed them to search. they found, however, nothing but twenty dollars, which he did not think worth taking. the men then lay down to sleep, keeping their arms loaded and their pistols slung, and setting a watch. the next morning he carried the prisoners to the boats. upon this tame conclusion, loe, who had been sitting patient and quiet as a judge, started up and said, interrupting russel, "zounds! what satisfaction is this to me or the company? we did not want these black fools, d----n them! no, we wanted their money, and if they had none, they might have stayed ashore or gone to the devil." russel, nettled at this rebuke, replied fiercely, "i have as much interest in getting the money as any of the company, and did as much to find it: i don't believe there was more than we saw, and that wouldn't have been sixpence a head, a trifle not worth having our name called in question for. for my part, i am for something that is worth taking, and if i can't light on such, i never will give the world occasion to say that i am a poor sneaking rogue and mean-spirited fellow. no, i will rob for something of value, or not at all, especially among these people, where, if our company breaks, we may look for a place of refuge; and i boldly affirm that it is a fool's act to draw on us their odium by such peddling thefts, that would be by all men accounted a narrow-souled, beggarly action, and would be cursed to all futurity by this fraternity, who might suffer for its effects." captain loe, abashed by the murmur of approval that followed this speech, said, "it was all very true, and carried a deal of reason with it, that he was satisfied with russel's judgment and courage in the affair; but come," says he, "let us do nothing rashly"--and filling a bumper, drank to russel, wishing roberts better success in his next voyage. russel then went on shore again, and, finding the priest had escaped to the mountains, told the governor, an old negro, that he should burn the town to ashes if he was not brought in in three hours' time. the governor said the thing was impossible, that he lay at their mercy, and hoped he would not destroy the innocent for the guilty. russel declared the doom should not be deferred, but promised the priest should not be killed if he surrendered himself. while parties of blacks were on the hunt, russel ordered an ox to be roasted for his men, and a pipe of wine to be broached; and on the priest being captured, treated all the natives at their christian minister's expense, leaving him to extract it from them again in tithes. the priest and governor, when they heard they were to be taken on board, to assure loe of their poverty, prayed not to be detained as slaves. russel told them he was a catholic, and no harm should be done them. they were soon afterwards released. loe then ordered a hammock for roberts, till his own and ship's fate were decreed by the company, telling him generously, in language rather metaphorical than strictly accurate, that everything in the ship was at his command, and begging him not to vary his usual course of hours, drinking, or company. next morning about eight, as roberts was pacing unemployed and melancholy on the deck, three pirates came up to him, and said that they had once sailed with him on board the _susannah_, in . they expressed sorrow for his ill luck, and promised to do something for him. they said they had fifty pieces of white linens, and eight of silk, and that when the company had agreed to restore him his ship, they would make interest to load it. then looking about as if wishing to tell him a secret, and seeing the deck clear, which it seldom was in pirate vessels, with much concern they informed him that if he did not take abundance of care, he would be forced to stay with them, for their mate had found that he knew the coast of brazil, whither they were bound after they had scoured that of guinea, and they would take him as pilot. then enjoining him to secresy (for their lives depended upon it), they said they had been in close consultation as to his fate, and had almost agreed to take him as a forced prisoner. they had praised him as kind to his men, and a good paymaster, and, knowing the pirate law that no married man could be forced to join their ships, swore at a hazard that he was married, and had four children. his mate had turned informer, but he was as yet ignorant of their articles, which they never showed till they were signed. his only chance of escape was to keep up to their story. russel, one of the council, had been in favour of breaking through the law in this special case, and keeping roberts at all events till they could catch another guide, but loe was opposed to it, telling them it would be an ill precedent and of bad consequence, for that if once they took the liberty of breaking their articles and oath, nothing would be sure. they added that most of the company being of loe's opinion, russel was vexed and determined if possible to break the articles. soon after they were gone, loe came on deck, and bidding him good morrow, with many compliments, ordered the flag, the signal for consultation, to be hoisted. this they called "the green trumpeter," and was a green silk flag, with the figure of a trumpeter in yellow, and hoisted on the mizen peak. upon this all came on board to breakfast, crowding both cabin and steerage. after breakfast loe asked roberts, as if casually, if he was married and had children. the latter answered he had five and perhaps six, for one was on the stocks when he came away. he then asked him, if he had left them well provided for. roberts replied, he had left his wife in such indifferent circumstances, having met with recent misfortunes, that the greater part of his substance was in that ship and cargo, and if that failed they would want even for bread. loe then turned to russel and said, "it won't do, russel." "what won't do?" replied the quartermaster. "you know what i mean," said loe; "it must not and it shall not be, by----" "it must and shall be, by----" replied russel; "'self-preservation is the first law of nature,' and 'necessity knows no law,' says the adage." "well," says loe, "it shall never be by my consent." the rest of the company then declared it was a pity, and ought to be seriously weighed and put to the vote. loe said, indeed it ought, and that there was no time like the present to determine the matter. the rest all cried, "ay, it is best to end it now." loe then ordered all hands upon deck, and bade roberts stay in the cabin. in about two hours (awful hours for roberts, to sit listening for shouts or cries), loe came down, and asked him how he did. russel said, with a frown, "master, your sloop is very leaky." roberts replied it was, wishing to depreciate its value. "leaky," said russel, "i don't know what you could do with her if we gave her you, for all your hands now belong to us." russel then continued to taunt him for his want of cargo and provision, as if to give a keener edge to his misery. at last, "come, come," said loe, "let us toss the bowl about, and call a fresh course." they then proceeded to carouse and talk of their past transactions at newfoundland, the western islands, the canaries, &c., and at dinner tore their food one from the other, thinking such ferocity looked martial. next morning one of the three men contrived to speak to roberts, and apologized for his caution, as they had an article making it death to hold any secret correspondence with a prisoner. he then informed him that his own mate was his great enemy, and seemed likely to turn rogue and enter with them, leaving him only a boy and a child to manage the sloop. both he and his companions heartily wished to join him, but found it would be death even to mention it, as they had an article that any of the company advising or merely speaking of separation should be shot to death by the quartermaster's order, without even court-martial. russel had been roberts' friend till the mate had told him of his captain's knowledge of brazil, and had even planned a gathering for him nearly equal in value to what they had taken, for it was a custom in pirate vessels to keep a spare stock of linen, silk, gold lace, and clothes, to give to any prisoner whom they took a liking to or had known before. loe was his friend, the sailor assured him, but that he could do little against russel, who had really more power and sway than anyone else. some time after this man left him, captain loe turned out, and, passing the usual compliments, sent for some rum, and discoursed on many indifferent subjects. upon all of these roberts was obliged to appear interested, dreading this sea-despot's displeasure. perhaps a button-holder, like this trunnion, never had so attentive an auditor, or so hearty an applauder of anecdotes, good or bad. about ten o'clock russel, the evil genius, came on board, and accosted roberts in an agreeable manner, trying to conciliate him into consenting to his proposal. he said, he had been considering roberts's scheme, and did not see how he could carry it through. he believed roberts was a man of understanding, but in this case was directed by sheer desperation rather than reason. for his part he did not think it would stand with the credit or reputation of the company to put it into his power to throw himself wilfully away, as he seemed determined to do. wishing him indeed well, he had been thinking all night upon a scheme which, without exposing him to danger, would turn out more to his advantage than anything he could expect by getting the sloop. (here roberts's eye brightened.) he had resolved to sink or burn the sloop, and detain roberts as a prisoner, all the company promising to give him the first prize they took, or to allow him to join their crew. this would be the making of him, and enable him to soon leave off sea, and live ashore if he were so inclined. roberts thanked him, but said he thought he should gather no advantage from such a plan, for he could not dispose of a ship or cargo without a lawful power to sell, and if the owners heard of it, he should be either obliged to make restitution, or be thrown into prison, and run the hazard of his own life. russel replied that his objections were frivolous, and could easily be evaded. to avoid detection, they would make him a bill of sale, and give him powers in writing that would answer any inquiry. as for the owners, they would take care from the ship's writings, which they always first seized, to let him know who were the owners of the cargo, and where they lived. these writings should be made in a false name, which roberts could assume till all were sold. roberts said there was abundant address in his contrivance and much plausibility in the whole. but were he even sure that all would turn out well, he had a still stronger motive than any he had yet mentioned, and that was his dread of the continual sting and accusation of his conscience. he then with more courage than he had hitherto shown, began to expatiate on the duty of restitution, and tried to awaken his hearers to some sense of the sin of piracy. many said, with a laugh, he would do well to preach a sermon, and would make a good chaplain. others shouted that they wanted no preaching there. "pirates had no god but money, no saviour but their muskets." a few approved of what he said, and declared that if a little goodness, or at least rude humanity, was in practice among them, their reputation would be a little better both with god and man. a short silence followed, which captain russel broke by employing some jesuitical sophistry, to persuade roberts that it would be no sin for him merely to accept what they had stolen, since he had no hand in the theft, and was their constrained prisoner. "suppose," he said, "we should still resolve to sink or burn your sloop, unless you will accept of her. now, where i pray, is the owner's property when the ship is sunk or burnt. i think the impossibility of his ever having her again cuts it off to all intents and purposes, and our power was the same, notwithstanding our giving her to you, if we had thought fit to make use of it." loe and the rest here burst out laughing, declared it was as good as a play to hear the two argue, and that roberts was a match for russel, though few could generally stand up to him in a fight with mere words. roberts not allowing this praise to over-balance his prudence, would not drive russel further, seeing him vexed at their applause. he merely said that he knew he was absolutely in their power to dispose of as they pleased, but that having hitherto been treated so generously by them, he could not doubt of their future goodness to him. that if they would please to give him his sloop again, it was all he requested at their hands, and that, he doubted not, by his honest endeavours he should be able to retrieve his present loss. upon this captain loe said, "gentlemen, the master, i must needs say, has spoke nothing but what i think is very reasonable, and i think he ought to have his sloop. what do you say, gentlemen?" the majority cried out with one voice, "ay, ay, by g---- let the poor man have his sloop again, and go in god's name and seek a living in her for his family." in the evening russel insisted on treating roberts on board his own schooner before his departure. all passed off well till after supper, when a bowl of punch and half a dozen of claret were put on the table. the captain first took a bumper, wishing success to the undertaking, and this toast passed round, roberts not daring to refuse to drink. the next health was, "prosperity to our trade." the third, "health to the king of france." russel then proposed "the king of england's health," and all drank it, some repeating his words, others saying, "the aforesaid health." just before it came to roberts, russel poured two bottles of claret into the punch, and his prisoner disliking this mixture, begged to pledge the health in a bumper of claret. at this heresy, russel, who had laid his trap, flew into a passion, "d----" he said, "you shall drink in your turn a full bumper of that sort of liquor the company does." "well then, gentlemen," said roberts, "rather than have words, i will drink, though it is in a manner poison to me." "curse you," said russel; "if it be in a manner or out of a manner, or really rank poison, you shall drink as much and as often as anyone here, unless you fall down dead, dead." then roberts, dreading a quarrel with his old enemy, took the glass, which held about three-quarters of a pint, and filling a bumper, said, "the aforesaid health." "what health is that?" said russel. "why," answered roberts, "the health you have all drank--the king of england's health." "who is king of england?" said russel. "in my opinion," said roberts, "he that wears the crown is certainly king of england." "well," argued his opponent, "and who is that?" upon his saying king george, he swore at him, and said the english had no king. roberts replied, laughing, "he wondered he should begin and drink a health to a person who was not in being." at this quip, russel drew a pistol from his sash, and would have shot his unoffending enemy dead, had not the gunner snatched it out of his hand. at this russel, who was a roman catholic and a jacobite, grew still more maddened, and fired another at roberts, saying, "the pretender is the only lawful king." the master striking down the barrel, the pistol went off without doing mischief. high words then arose between russel and the gunner, and the latter, addressing the company, said, "well, gentlemen, if you have a mind to maintain these laws, made, established, and sworn to by us all, as i think we are obligated by the strongest ties of reason and self-interest to do, i assure you my opinion is that we ought to secure john russel, so as to prevent his breaking our constitution." when russel attempted, still in a passion, to defend his conduct, the gunner declared, "that no man's life should be taken away in cold blood till the company, under whose care he was, had so decreed it." then accusing him of hating roberts, merely because he had been prevented from breaking the articles by detaining him, he left the spot. russel's arms were next taken away, and roberts, being guarded during the night, was sent to the commodore in the morning, there being a law among them to receive no boats aboard after nine o'clock at night. about four in the afternoon russel came to loe, with spriggs, the commander of the other ship, and told him that roberts's mate was willing to join them as a volunteer. loe said, in that case roberts would have no one but a child to help him; and he thought, in reason, they could not give him less than the mate and two boys. russel said he could not help that, "the mate was a brisk lusty young fellow, and had been upon the account before. he had declared he would not go in the sloop unless forced; that when he first came to barbadoes his resolve had been to ship himself on board the first pirate he met with." loe replied, "that to give the master a vessel without men was only putting him to a lingering death, and they had better knock him on the head at once." russel replied, "as for that they might do as they pleased; he spoke for the good of the company and according to articles, and he should like to see or hear the man who dared to gainsay it. he was quartermaster, and by the authority of that office should at once enter the mate, and had a pistol and a brace of bullets for any who opposed him." loe said he would not argue against law and custom, but he thought if they kept the mate they should substitute another man. russel said, with an oath, grinding his teeth, "no, the sloop's men were enrolled already in his books, and he should rub no names out." then turning to roberts, he added, "the company, master, has decreed you your sloop, and you shall have her; you shall have your two boys, that's all: but you shall have neither provisions nor anything else more than she has now. and, as i hear some of the company design to make a gathering for you, that also i forbid, by the authority of my office, because we are not certain but we may have occasion ourselves for those very things before we get more. and i swear by all that's good and bad, if i know anything that's carried or left on board the sloop against my order, or without my knowledge, i will set her on fire that very instant, and you with her." after a little more dispute and feeble and intimidated resistance to this violence, russel's stern resolution and heartless villany carried the day, and about dusk they parted, each to his own ship, several professing kindness to roberts, but none giving him anything. when russel was ready, he sent roberts into his boat, and bringing him to his own ship, ordered supper for him, and bottles, and pipes and tobacco, being set on the table, he invited roberts and his officers into his cabin. his revenge was now accomplished and the wretch, now resolved to make roberts taste the tortures of death, by anticipation, addressed him with a sneer worthy of the applause of hell. "captain roberts," he said, "you are very welcome, and i pray you eat and drink heartily, for you have as tedious a voyage to go through as elijah in his forty days' journey to horeb, and, as far as i know, without a miracle, it must be only by the strength of what you now eat, for you shall have neither eatables nor drinkables with you in the sloop." roberts replied, "i hope not so," but russel answered he would find it certainly true. roberts then said, that rather than be put on board the sloop in that manner, when there was no possibility of escaping but by a miracle, he should be glad to be sent ashore on some island off the coast of guinea, or even to tarry on board till an opportunity occurred to land where he pleased, for he would yield to anything else they should think fit to do with him, except entering into their service. russel answered with an oath, the usual prelude of a pirate's harangue, that it had been once in his power to have been his own friend, but as he chose to slight their proffered favours, and had made that choice, he must now take it, as all apologies were too late; and he thought he had proved himself a better friend than roberts could have expected, since he had caused him to have more differences with his company than he had ever had before. roberts pleaded the innocence of his intentions, and intreated russel and all the gentlemen present to consider him an object rather of pity than vengeance. but his tormentor, more inexorable than a headsman, said: "all your whining arguments, you dog, are now too late. you not only refused our commiseration when it was offered, but ungratefully despised it. your lot is cast, and you have nothing to do but to go through your chance with a good face. fill your belly with victuals and good drink, and strengthen yourself for three days or so, or have some brandy and die drunk, and be happy. this is your last meal in this world, so fail not to make the most of it. yet, perhaps, such a conscientious man as you pretend to be may have a miracle worked for you, but for my own part i don't believe god himself, if there is one, could help you. i pity the boys, and have a great mind, roberts, to keep them on board, and let the miracle be worked on you alone." the master and governor said they heard the boys were willing to take their chance with the master, let it be what it would. "nay, then," said russel, "it is fit the young devils should, and i suppose the master has made them as religious and conscientious as himself. however, master," he cried, "eat and drink heartily; this is your last supper, as the priests call it, and don't try to change your allotted fate, or it may provoke us to treat you worse." "gentlemen," said roberts, with a resignation that would have touched any other man, "i have done; you can do no more than god is pleased to permit you, and i own for that reason i ought to take it patiently. god forgive you." "well, well," said russel, "if it is done by god's permission, you need not fear he will permit any harm to befall one of his peculiar elect." about ten at night, in order that darkness might add to his dismay, some of russel's partisans brought the sloop's boat. in answer to an inquiry as to whether they had cleared the vessel as he had ordered, they replied with an oath, "ay, ay, she has nothing on board except ballast and water." "zounds," said russel, stamping on the deck, "did i not bid you stave all the casks that had water in them?" "so we have," was the reply; "the water we mean is salt water leaked in, and now above the ballast, for we have not pumped her, we don't know when." he asked if they had brought away the sails. they said they had, all but the mainsail that was bent, for the other old mainsail was so rotten it was only fit to cut up for parcelling, and was so torn it could not be brought to, and was past mending. "zounds," said russel, "we must have it, for i want it to make us a mainsail. the same miraculous power that brings the rogue provisions will bring him sails." "what a devil! is he a conjuror?" said one. "no, no!" replied russel, "but he expects miracles to be wrought for him, or he would never have chosen what he has." "nay, nay, if he be such a one, he will do well enough." "but i doubt," cried another, "if he be such a mighty conjuror, for if he was, how the devil was it that he did not conjure himself clear of us?" "pish!" cried a third, "may be his conjuring books were all shut up." "ay," said a fourth, "now we have all his conjuration books over board, i doubt he'll be hard put to it." the gunner alone seemed to retain any trace of humanity, he bade russel take care he had not this to answer for some day when he would be sorry for it. "howsum-dever," he said, "you've got the company's assent, i can't tell how, and, therefore, i shall say no more, only that i, and i believe most of the gentlemen came here to get money, but not to kill, except in fight, much less in cold blood, or for private revenge. and i tell you, jack russel, if ever such cases as these be any more practised, my endeavours will be to leave this company as soon as convenient." russel made no answer, but ordered his men to fetch the mainsail from the sloop. he then gave roberts an old worm-eaten musket, a damp cartridge, and two half pounds of tobacco "as a parting present." his victim was then conducted with great ceremony over the side into his own boat, and put on board with his two boys. as their boat was putting away, roberts thought he heard his mate's voice, so he called to him and said, "arthur! what, are you going to leave me?" a voice replied, for it was pitch dark, "ay." "what!" said roberts, "do you do it voluntarily, or are you forced?" he answered faintly, "i am forced, i think!" roberts answered "very well." the mate then called out and asked roberts, if he ever had an opportunity, to write and give his brother an account of him. roberts asked where he lived, and the mate replied at carlingford, in ireland. now this mate the captain had picked up at barbadoes, a naked shipwrecked man, who had served in a new england sloop. he had bought him clothes and instruments, and treated him with sympathy and kindness. he was a rigid presbyterian, a great arguer on theological points, and a loud inveigher against the church of england. although he had never before been heard to utter an oath, as soon as russel persuaded him to join the pirate crew, he became constantly drunk, and outdid them all in blasphemy and wickedness, but he had told his new companions so much of roberts's kindness, that but for russel they would not have allowed him to join them. next morning roberts proceeded to rummage the sloop, and sweeping out the bread lockers, he found about his hat crown full of biscuit crumbs, some broken pipes, and a few screws of tobacco. they had left his fore-staff, but took his bedding, although they generally lay upon deck, or against a gun carriage. in the hold, the more merciful had left ten gallons of rum in one hogshead, and thirty pounds of rice in another, with three pints of water and a little flour, together with some needles and twine, sufficient to repair his rotten sails. a day or two afterwards they caught a shark, which they boiled for several dinners, using the shark's liver, melted, for oil. he soon after reached curisal, obtained a negro crew, was wrecked, built a boat, and was eventually taken home by an english ship. scarcely less interesting than this narrative of roberts is that of captain william snelgrave, who was engaged in the slave trade on the guinea coast in . having escaped one of the dreaded salee rovers, he was taken at sierra leone by captain cocklyn of the _rising sun_, a pirate commanding three vessels and a gang of eighty men. he had been marooned by a man named moody, but had gradually collected men, and captured, in a short time, ten english vessels. moody's crew, soon after cocklyn's departure, disliking their captain's cruelty, put him and twelve more in an open boat, which they had taken from the spaniards off the canary islands, and chose a frenchman named le bouce as their commander, who instantly put back and joined cocklyn, whom they liked because he was fierce and brutal, being resolved to have no more gentlemanlike captains like moody. the next day davis, the pirate, arrived with well disciplined men, the black flag flying at his mast head. the evening snelgrave entered the river, he observed a suspicious smoke on land, but his mate said it was only travellers roasting oysters, and it appeared afterwards that he was a traitor. on standing in for the river's mouth, the pirate vessels appeared in sight. towards dusk he heard a boat approaching, so he ordered twenty men to get ready their firearms and cutlasses. lanterns being brought and the boat hailed, the pirates fired a volley at the ship, being then within pistol shot distance, a daring act for twelve men, who were attacking a ship of sixteen guns and forty-five men. when they began to near, the captain called out to fire from the steerage port-holes. this not being done, he went below, and found his people staring at each other, and declaring they could not find the arm chest. the pirates instantly boarded, fired down the steerage, shooting a sailor in the loins, and throwing hand grenades amongst them. on their calling for "mercy," the quartermaster, who always headed the pirate boarders, came down from the quarterdeck and inquired for the captain, asking how he dared to fire. on snelgrave saying it was his duty to defend his ship, the quartermaster presented a pistol at his breast, but he parried it, and the bullet passed under his arm. the wretch then struck him on the head with the butt end, bringing him on his knees. on his getting up and running to the quarterdeck, the pirate boatswain made a blow at his head with his broad sword, swearing no quarter should be offered to any captain who dared to defend his vessel. the blow missed him, but the blade cut an inch deep in the quarterdeck rail, and there broke. the pirate's pistols being all unloaded, he then struck at him with the butt end of one of them till the crew cried out for his life, and said they had never sailed with a better man. one of the crew, however, had his chin cut off; another fell for dead on the deck. the quartermaster who came up, told him he should be cut to pieces if his men did not recover the pirate's boat that had run adrift. on recovering this, he took him by the hand, and declared his life was safe if none of his crew complained of him. the pirate then fired several vollies for joy at their recovery, but forgetting to hail their companions, were fired on by the other ships. when snelgrave questioned the quartermaster why he did not use his speaking trumpet, he asked him angrily whether he was afraid of going to the devil by a great shot, "for that he hoped to be sent to hell by a cannon ball some time or other." the pirates now prepared for dinner by cramming geese, turkeys, fowls, and ducks, all unpicked, into the furnace, with some westphalia hams, and a large sow in pig, which they only bowelled, leaving the hair on. soon after this, a sailor came to snelgrave to ask him what o'clock it was, and on the captain's presenting him with his watch, laid it on the deck, and kicked it about, saying it would make a good football. one of the pirates then caught it up, and said it should go into the common chest, and be sold at the mast. snelgrave was soon after carried on board the pirate ship. the commander told him he was sorry for the bad usage he had met with, but it was the fortune of war, and that if he did not answer truly every question he would be cut into even ounces, but that if he told the truth they would make it the best voyage he had ever taken. one of them asked if his ship sailed well on wind, and on his saying, "very well," cocklyn threw up his hat, saying she would make a brave pirate man-of-war. a tall fellow, with four pistols in his belt, and a broadsword in his hand, then came up and claimed him as an old schoolfellow, and told him secretly that he was a forced man, having been mate in a bristol vessel lately captured, and was obliged to go armed. he told him also that at night, when the pirates drank hard, was the time of most danger for prisoners. a bowl of punch was then ordered, and the men, going into the great cabin, sat on the floor cross-legged, for want of seats, drinking the pretender's health by the name of "king james the third." at midnight they gave snelgrave a hammock, and his old schoolfellow kept guard over him with a drawn sword, but he could not sleep for the songs and cursing. about two o'clock the pirate boatswain came on board, and hearing snelgrave was asleep, declared he would slice his liver for daring to fire at the boat, and refusing to give up his watch. griffin threatened to cleave him if he came nearer, and struck at him with his sword. in the morning, when all were sober, the sentinel complained of the boatswain for infringing the pirate law, "that no ill usage be offered to prisoners when quarter has once been given." the crew proposed the offender should be whipped, but snelgrave prudently begged him off. soon after, his own first mate came to tell him that, being badly off and having a scolding wife, he had joined the pirates. he found out afterwards that he had hid the arm-chest, and dissuaded the men from resistance. the pirate then began to rummage the vessel, and, not caring for anything but money, threw overboard, before night, about £ worth of indian bales. they broke up his escritoires, and destroyed his chests of books, swearing there was "jaw work enough for a whole nation." against all religious books they exercised a strict censorship, for fear of any of the crew being roused to qualms of conscience, or taking a dislike to the profession. the wine too began to be passed freely round, and the pirates grew merciful, and good-humouredly made up a bundle of clothes for the prisoners. at this moment one of davis's crew, a pert young fellow of , broke open a chest for plunder, and on the quartermaster complaining, replied "that they were all equal, and he thought he was in the right." the quartermaster then struck at him with his sword, and pursued him into davis's cabin, where he thrust at him, and ran him through the hand, wounding the captain as well. davis vowed revenge, saying that if his man had offended, no one had a right to punish him, and especially in his presence. he then instantly went on board his own ship, and bore down upon cocklyn, who finally consented to make the quartermaster beg pardon for his fault. snelgrave was sitting in the cabin with the carpenter and three or four other pirates, when the boatswain came down very drunk, and beginning to abuse him was turned out of the place. soon after a puff of wind put out the candle, and the boatswain returning, declared snelgrave had put it out, with the design of going into the powder-room and blowing up the ship; and in spite of the carpenter declaring it was done by accident, he drew a pistol and swore he would blow out the dog's brains. in rising to blow in the candle snelgrave and the carpenter had, unknown to the boatswain, changed places. the pistol flashing in the pan, the carpenter saw by the light that he must have been shot if it had gone off, and in a rage ran in the dark to the boatswain, wrenched the pistol from his hand and beat him till he was nearly dead. the noise alarmed the ship, and the disturber was carried off to bed. the next morning davis's crew came on board to divide the wines and liquors. they hoisted on deck a great many half hogsheads of claret and french brandy, knocked out their heads and dipped out cans and bowls full, throwing them at each other, and washing the decks with what was left. the bottles they took no trouble to mark, but "nicked" them, as they called it, by striking off their necks with a cutlass, spilling the contents of about one in every three. the eatables were wasted in the same way. three drunken pirates coming into the cabin, and tumbling over snelgrave's bundles of clothes, threw three of the four overboard. a fourth pirate, more sober than the rest, opened the remaining bundle, and taking out a black suit and a wig, put them on and strutted on deck, throwing them over in an hour when the crew had drenched him with claret. when snelgrave mildly expostulated with him on this robbery, he struck him on the shoulder with the flat of his sword, whispering at the same time a caution never to dispute the will of a pirate for fear he might get his skull split for his impudence. when night came on, snelgrave had nothing left of four bundles of clothes but a hat and a wig, and these were soon after put on by a drunken man, who staggered into the cabin, saying he was "one of the most respectable merchants on the african coast." as he was leaving the room, a sailor came in and beat him severely for taking what he had no right to, and thinking he was one of the crew. the interposer then comforted snelgrave, and promised to recover what he had lost, while others of the crew brought him food. next day, davis, ordering all the crews on the quarter-deck, made a speech in snelgrave's behalf, persuading them to give him a ship and several thousand pounds' worth of miscellaneous plunder. one of the men proposed they should take him with them down the guinea coast, and if they took a portuguese vessel, to give him a cargo of slaves. down the coast he might sell his goods for gold dust, and then, sailing for st. thomas's, sell his ship and the slaves to the danes, and return to london a rich man. snelgrave demurring to this, they grew angry, thinking their gift would have been legal, but davis kindly said, "i know this man and can easily guess his thoughts, he thinks he would lose his reputation. now, i am for allowing everybody to go to the devil in their own way, so beg you to give him the remains of his own cargo and let him do as he thinks fit." this they granted, but of his own adventure not more than £ worth was now left. the sailors had taken rolls of fine holland and opened them to lie down in on the deck. then when the others came and flung buckets of claret over them, they flung the stained parcels overboard. in loading, the pirates always dropped the bales over, if they were not passed as quickly as they expected. the irish beef they threw away, cocklyn saying snelgrave had horsebeans enough to last his crew six months. soon after this the brutal quartermaster fell sick of a fever, and sent to snelgrave to beg his forgiveness, for having attempted to shoot him. he said he had been a wicked wretch, and that his conscience tormented him, for he feared he should roll in hell fire. when snelgrave preached repentance he declared his heart was hardened, but he would try, and he ordered snelgrave to take any necessaries he wanted from his chest, but died that night in terrible agonies and cursing god. this so affected many of the new recruits that they begged snelgrave to get them off, and promised not to be guilty of murder or other cruelty. in the cabin the pirates found some proclamations, and being unable to read asked the prisoner to do it for them. he then read his majesty's proclamation for a pardon to all pirates that should surrender themselves at any of the british plantations by the st of july, . the next was the declaration of war against spain. when they heard the latter, some said they wished they had known it before they left the west indies, as they might have turned privateersmen, and have enriched themselves. snelgrave told them it was not yet too late, there being still three months left of the term prescribed. but when they heard the rewards offered for the apprehension of pirates, a buccaneer who had been guilty of murder, treated the proclamation with contempt, and tore it in pieces. amongst other men that consulted snelgrave was a sailor named curtis, who, being sick, walked about the deck wrapped in a silk gown. he had sailed with snelgrave's father. among other spoil the three pirate captains had found a box with three second-hand embroidered coats, which they seized and put on. the longest falling to cocklyn's share, who was a short man, it reached to his ankles, but le bouce and davis refused to change with him, saying that as he was going on shore where the negro ladies knew nothing of white men's fashions, it did not matter, and moreover, as his coat was scarlet embroidered with silver, he would be the bravest of them all. these clothes being taken contrary to law, and without the quartermaster's leave, the crew were offended, declaring that if they suffered such things, the captains would assume a new power, and soon take whatever they liked. the next morning when their captains returned, the coats were taken from them, and put into the common chest; and it having been reported that snelgrave had advised the costume, many of the men turned against him, one of them threatening to cut him to pieces. a sailor who stood near told snelgrave not to be frightened at the man's threat, for he always spoke in that way, and advised him to call him "captain" when he came on board, for the fellow had once been commander of a pirate sloop, did not like the post of quartermaster, and loved to be called by his old title. on entering the ship, snelgrave said softly to him, "captain williams, pray hear me on the point you are so offended about." upon this williams gave him a playful blow on the shoulder with the flat of his sword, and said "i have not the heart to hurt thee." he then explained the affair, drank a glass of wine with him, and they were friends ever after. the pirates next captured a french ship that they had at first taken for a forty-gun ship in pursuit of them. the men drunk and newly levied, might at this time have easily been cut off, and the hundred sail of ships they afterwards destroyed saved. when some of the men cried out that they had never seen a gun fired in anger, cocklyn caned them, telling them they should soon learn to smell gunpowder. the french captain they hung at the yard-arm for not striking at their first shot. when they had pulled him up and down several times till he was almost dead, le bouce interfered for his countryman, protesting he would sail no longer with such barbarous villains. they then gave him the french ship, first destroying her cargo, cutting her masts by the board, and running her on shore, as old and useless. snelgrave's ship being now fitted up by the pirates, he was invited to its christening. the officers stood round the great cabin, holding bumpers of punch in their hands; and on captain cocklyn saying, "god bless the wyndham galley," they drank the liquor, broke their glasses, and the guns thundered a broadside. the new ship being galley built with only two flush decks, the powder-room scuttle was in the chief cabin, and at that time stood open. one of the guns blowing at the touch-hole, set fire to some cartouch boxes that held small arm cartridges, the shot of which flew about, filling the room with smoke. when it was over, davis remarked on the great danger they had been in, the scuttle having been all the time open, and , lb. weight of powder lying under. cocklyn replied with a curse, "i wish it had taken fire, for it would have been a noble blast to have gone to hell with." the next day the pirate captains invited snelgrave to dinner, and during supper a trumpeter and other musicians, who had been taken from various prizes, played and sang. about the middle of supper there was a sudden cry of fire, and a sailor boy, running in, with a pale face, said the main hatchway was on fire. the crew were then nearly drunk, and many of them leaped into the boats, leaving the officers and the fifty prisoners. on snelgrave remarking to davis the danger they were in, being left without a boat, davis fired a great gun at the fugitives, and brought them back. the gunner then put wet blankets on the bulk head of the powder-room, and so saved it from destruction. this immense store of powder had been collected from various prizes, as being an article in great request with the negroes. snelgrave took one of the quarterdeck gratings and lowered it over the ship's side with a rope, in case he should be obliged to leave the ship, and all this time the drunken sailors were standing on the quarterdeck, to the horror of the prisoners, shouting, "hurrah for a quick passage to hell!" about ten o'clock the master, a brisk and courageous man, who, with fifteen more, had spared no pains to conquer the flames, came up miserably burnt, and calling for a surgeon, declared the danger was now all over. the fire had arisen from the carelessness of a negro, who being sent to pump out some rum, held his candle so near the bung-hole of the hogshead that a spark caught the spirit. this soon fired another tub, and both their heads flew off with the report of a cannon; but though there were twenty casks of rum, and as many of pitch and tar in the store, all the rest escaped. before morning, the gunner's mate having spoken in favour of snelgrave's conduct during the fire, the crew sent for him to attend the sale of his effects on board the wyndham galley. some promised to be kind to him; and the captain offered to buy his watch. as they were talking, a mate, half drunk, proposed that snelgrave should be kept as a pilot till they left the coast, but davis caned him off the quarter deck. two days after this the pirates took a small vessel belonging to the african company. snelgrave's first mate then told them that he had been once very badly served by this company, and begged that they would burn the vessel in revenge. this was about to be ordered when stubbs, a quick-witted sailor, stood up and said, "pray, gentlemen, hold, and i will prove to you that the burning of this ship will only advance the company's interests. the vessel has been out two years; is old, crazy, and worm-eaten; her stores are worth little, and her cargo consists only of red wood and pepper, the loss of which will not harm the company, who will save the men's wages, which will be three times the value of the cargo." this convinced the crew, who at once spared the vessel, and returned her to the captain. a few days afterwards, snelgrave's things were sold at the mast, many of the men returning him their purchases, his old school-fellow in particular begging hard on his behalf. when the fiercer men observed the great heap of things he had collected, they swore the dog was insatiable, and said it would be a good deed to throw them overboard. hearing this, snelgrave loaded his canoe, and, by the advice of his friends, returned to shore. soon after he left, his watch was put up for sale, and run to £ in order to vex davis, who, however, bought it at that enormous price. one of the sailors, enraged at this, tried the case on a touch-stone, and, seeing it looked copperish from the alloy in the gold, swore it was bad metal. they then declared snelgrave was a greater rogue than any of them, since he had cheated them all. russel laughed at this, and then vowed to whip him when he came next. upon the advice of his friends, snelgrave hid in the woods till the pirates left the river, and soon after returned with several other ruined men to england. of the madagascar pirates some scanty record in hamilton's account of the east indies, published in . he mentions the fact that the pirates had totally destroyed the english slave trade in that island, in spite of several squadrons of men-of-war sent against them. to use the author's own rather ambiguous words, "a single ship, commanded by one millar, did more than all the chargeable fleets could do, for, with a cargo of strong ale and brandy, which he carried to sell them in , he killed about of them by carousing, though they took his ship and cargo as a present from him, and his men entered, most of them, into the society of the pirates." commodore littleton lent them blocks and tackle-falls to careen, and, for some secret reasons, released some of their number. the author concludes in the following manner: "madagascar is environed with islands and dangerous shoals both of rocks and sand. st. mary's, on the east side, is the place which the pirates first chose for their asylum, having a good harbour to defend them from the weather, though in going in there are some difficulties. but hearing the squadrons of english ships were come in quest of them, they removed to the main island for more security, and there they have made themselves free denizens by marriage." and the author is of opinion it will be no easy matter to dispossess them. in mr. matthews went in search of them, but found they had deserted st. mary's island, leaving behind them some marks of their robberies, for in some places he found pepper strewed a foot thick on the ground. the commodore went, with his squadron, over into the main island, but the pirates had carried their ships into rivers or creeks, out of danger of the men-of-war, and to burn them with their boats would have been impracticable, since they could have easily distressed the crews from the woods. the commodore had some discourse with several of them, but they stood on their guard, ready to defend themselves in case any violence had been offered them. the th and th of william iii., and the th george i., are both statutes against piracy, and are indications of the years in which their ravages were peculiarly felt. by the first, any natural-born subject committing an act of hostility against any of his majesty's subjects, under colour of a commission from any foreign power, could be tried for piracy. and further, any commander betraying his trust, and running away with the ship, or yielding it up voluntarily to a pirate, or any one confining his captain to prevent him fighting, was adjudged a pirate, felon, and robber, and was sentenced to death. the later acts make it piracy even to trade with known pirates. commanders or seamen wounded, or their widows slain in piratical engagements, were entitled to a bounty not exceeding one-fiftieth part of the value of the cargo, and wounded men received the pension of greenwich hospital. if the commander behaved cowardly, he was to forfeit all his wages, and suffer six months' imprisonment. such are a few of the facts connected with the almost unrecorded and uncertain history of the pirates of new providence and madagascar, the most loathsome wretches that perhaps, since cain, have ever washed their hands in human blood. ferocious yet often cowardly, they were subtle and cruel, with none of the frequent generosity of outlaws, and little of the enterprise of the military adventurers. long ago have their bones crumbled from the dark gibbets on the lonely sand islands of the pacific, and they remain without monument or record, except in prison chronicles and forgotten voyages. we have reviewed their history simply as the natural sequel of our annals, and as an illustration of the character of the english seaman in its most brutal and satanic aspect. the end. chief authorities. buccaneer writers. john (joseph?) esquemeling's[ ] bucaniers of america; or, an account of the most remarkable assaults committed on the coasts of the west indies by the bucaniers of jamaica and tortuga; with the exploits of sir henry morgan. translated into english from the dutch, with a portrait of sir h. morgan, a map and plates, with a table. to. london. . [ ] rich, in his "bibliotheca americana nova," , confounds esquemeling, the dutchman, with oexmelin, the frenchman. the english translation of speaks of esquemeling's work as written by a frenchman and dutchman together, the name being french and the language dutch. rich describes it as first printed in dutch, ; then translated into spanish; then from spanish into english, and from english into french; the author's name being changed in the latter translation. ---- de americanische zee roovers. to. amsterdam. . ---- hisp. mo. col. ag. . ---- eng. mo. london. . ---- to. col. ag. . ---- mo. vols. maps and plates. trevoux. (augmentée de l'histoire des pirates anglais depuis leur etablissement dans l'isle de providence jusqu'au presént.): . oexmelin, alexandre olivier--histoire des avanturiers qui se sont signalés dans les indes occidentales depuis vingt ans. traduite de l'anglais par le sr. de frontignières; avec un traité de la chambre de comptes établie dans les indes par les espagnols, traduit de l'espagnol; le tout enriché des cartes et des figures, avec des tables. vols. mo. paris. . ---- vo. paris. . tom. jesuit historians. pierre franÇois xavier charlevoix--histoire de l'isle espagnole, ou de st. domingue, écrite sur des mémoires manuscrits du p. jean baptiste le tertre, jésuite missionaire à st. domingue, et sur les pièces originales qui se conservent au dépôt de la marine; avec des cartes, des plans, et des tables. vols. to. paris. - . piratas de la america y luz à la defensa de las costas de indias occidentales. traducida del flamenco en espanol, por el doctor buena maison, medico practico en la amplissima y magnifica ciudad de amsterdam dala à luz esta tercera edicion, d.m.g.r. madrid. to. . mo. . to. . jean baptiste du tertre, missionaire apostolique dans les antilles--histoires des antilles habitées par les françois; avec des figures. vols. to. paris. - . jean baptiste labat, dominicain parisien, professeur des philosophies à nanci, etc.--nouveau voyage aux isles de l'amérique. vols. mo. paris. . captain william dampier's voyage round the world. illustrated with maps and plates. vols. in . vo. london. - . captain cowley's voyage round the globe. vo. london. . lionel wafer's voyage and description of the isthmus of america. vo. london, . vo. london, . captain james burney's chronological history of the discoveries in the south sea or pacific ocean. vols. to. - - . captain t. southey's chronological history of the west indies. vols. vo. london. . list of buccaneer chiefs, from the commencement of their empire to its downfall. louis scott. pierre le grand. pierre franÇois. roc the brazilian. barthelemy portugues. lolonnois the cruel. alexandre bras de fer. montbars the exterminator. moses van vin. pierre le picard. tributor. captain champagne. le basque. sir henry morgan. captain swan. captain sharp. captain bradley. captain coxen. captain betsharp. dampier. captain grogniet. captain yankey. laurent de graff. sieur de grammont. sieur de montauban. de lisle. anne le roux. vauclin. ovinet. elias ward. willis. d'ogeron. captain davis. van horn. captain michael. captain rose. captain daviot. london: sercombe and jack, great windmill street. just published, illustrated with portraits, the third and fourth volumes, completing the work, of the memoirs of the court & cabinets of george iii. from original family documents. by the duke of buckingham & chandos, k.g. among the principal important and interesting subjects of these volumes (comprising the period from to ) are the following:--the union of great britain and ireland--the catholic question--the retirement from office of mr. pitt and lord grenville--the addington administration--the peace of amiens--the connection of the prince of wales with the opposition--the coalition of pitt, fox, and grenville--the downfall of the addington ministry--the conduct of the princess of wales--nelson in the baltic and at trafalgar--the administration of lord grenville and mr. fox--the abolition of the slave trade--the walcheren expedition--the enquiry into the conduct of the duke of york--the convention of cintra--the expeditions to portugal and spain--the quarrel of lord castlereagh and mr. canning--the malady of george iii.--proceedings for the establishment of the regency. the volumes also comprise the private correspondence of lord grenville, when, secretary of state and first lord of the treasury--of the right hon. thomas grenville, when president of the board of control and first lord of the admiralty--of the duke of wellington, during his early campaigns in the peninsula; with numerous confidential communications from george iii., the prince of wales, lords castlereagh, elgin, hobart, camden, essex, carysfort, melville, howick, wellesley, fitzwilliam, temple, buckingham, mr. fox, mr. wyndham, &c. &c. n.b.--a few copies of the first and second volumes of this work may still be had. "these volumes contain much valuable matter. there are three periods upon which they shed a good deal of light--the formation of the coalition ministry in , the illness of the king in , and the first war with republican france."--_times._ "a very remarkable and valuable publication. in these volumes the most secret history of many important transactions is for the first time given to the public."--_herald._ hurst and blackett, publishers, successors to henry colburn, , great marlborough street. * * * * * transcriber's note: mismatched quotation marks in one paragraph of chapter i were left as in the original. generously made available by the internet archive/canadian libraries) { } notes and queries: a medium of inter-communication for literary men, artists, antiquaries, genealogists, etc. "when found, make a note of."--captain cuttle. * * * * * no. .] saturday, january . [price fourpence. stamped edition d. * * * * * contents. notes:-- page autograph of edward of lancaster, son of henry vi., by sir frederic madden robert bloomfield, by george daniel note for london topographers, by lambert b. larking sermons by parliamentary chaplains, by r. c. warde a perspective view of twelve postage-stamps, by cuthbert bede, b.a. minor notes:--cremona violins--prices of tea-- coleridge a prophet--lord bacon's advice peculiarly applicable to the correspondents of "n. & q."--etymology of molasses--a sounding name queries:-- roman sepulchral inscriptions, by rev. e. s. taylor chapel plaster, by j. e. jackson minor queries:--martha blount--degree of b.c.l.-- the word "anywhen"--shoreditch cross, &c.--winchester and huntingdon--la bruyère--sir john davys or davies--fleshier of otley--letters u, v, w--heraldic queries--"drengage" and "berewich"--sidney as a female name--"the brazen head"--portrait of baron lechmere--"essay for a new translation of the bible," and "letters on prejudice"-- david garrick--aldiborontophoskophornio--quotations wanted--arago on the weather--"les veus du hairon," or "le voeu du héron"--inscription on a dagger-case--hallet and dr. saxby replies:-- descent of the queen from john of gaunt, by w. hardy uncertain etymologies: "leader" lines of tipperary shakspeare emendations, by thomas keightley statues represented on coins, by w. h. scott judge jeffreys, by dr. e. f. rimbault, &c. dutch allegorical pictures, by dr. j. h. todd the reprint, in , of the first folio edition of shakspeare photographic notes and queries:--le grey and the collodion process--ready mode of iodizing paper-- after-dilution of solutions--stereoscopic pictures from one camera--camera for out-door operations "'twas on the morn" alleged reduction of english subjects to slavery, by henry h. breen replies to minor queries:--royal assent, &c.--can bishops vacate their sees?--"genealogies of the mordaunt family," by the earl of peterborough--niágara, or niagára?--maudlin--spiritual persons employed in lay offices--passage in burke--ensake and cradock arms--sich house--americanisms so called--the folger family--wake family--shakspeare's "twelfth night"--electrical phenomena--daubuz family--lord nelson--robes and fees in the days of robin hood--wray--irish rhymes miscellaneous:-- notes of books, &c. books and odd volumes wanted notices to correspondents advertisements * * * * * notes. autograph of edward of lancaster, son of henry vi. in the museum of antiquities of rouen is preserved an original document, thus designated, "lettre d'edouard, prince de galles ( )." it is kept under a glass case, and shown as "an undoubted autograph of the black prince," according to the testimony of the gentleman who has very obligingly placed a transcript of this interesting relic at my disposal. it is as follows: "chers et bons amis, nous avons entendu, que ung nostre homme lige subject, natif de nostre pays de galles, est occupé et détenu es prisons de la ville de diepe, pour la mort d'un homme d'icelle ville, dont pour le dict cas autres ont esté exécutez. et pour ce que nostre dict subject estoit clerc, a esté et est encores en suspens, parce qu'il a esté requis par les officiers de nostre très cher et aimé cousin l'archevesque de rouen, afin qu'il leur fut rendu, ainsi que de droict; pourquoy nous vous prions, que icelui nostre homme et subject vous veuillez bailler et delivrer aux gens et officiers de mon dict cousin, sans en ce faire difficulté. et nous vous en saurons un très grant gré, et nous ferez ung essingulier plaisir. car monseigneur le roy de france nous a autorisez faire grace en semblable cas que celui de mon dict subject, duquel desirons fort la delivrance. escript à rouen, le onziesme jour de janvier. (signed) eduard. (countersigned) martin." the error of assigning this signature to edward the black prince is sufficiently obvious, and somewhat surprising, since we here have an undoubted, and, i believe, _unique_ autograph of edward of lancaster, prince of wales, only son of henry vi. by margaret of anjou. he was born at westminster, october th, , and was therefore, in january, (no doubt the true date of the document), in the eighteenth year of his age. he had sought refuge from the yorkists, in france, with his mother, ever since the year , and in the preceding july or august, , had been affianced to anne neville, the youngest daughter of the earl of warwick. at the period when this { } letter was written at rouen, margaret of anjou was meditating the descent into england which proved so fatal to herself and son, whose life was taken away with such barbarity on the field at tewksbury, in the month of may following. the letter is addressed, apparently, to the magistrates of rouen or dieppe, to request the liberation of a native of wales (imprisoned for the crime of having slain a man), and his delivery to the officers of the archbishop of rouen, on the plea of his being a clerk. the prince adds, that he was authorised by the king of france (louis xi.) to grant grace in similar cases. as the signature of this unfortunate prince is at present quite unknown in the series of english royal autographs, it would be very desirable that an accurate fac-simile should be made of it by some competent artist; and perhaps the art of photography might in this instance be most advantageously and successfully used to obtain a perfect copy of the entire document. f. madden. * * * * * robert bloomfield. presuming that some of the many readers of "n. & q." may feel an interest in the author of _the farmer's boy_, whom i knew intimately (a sickly-looking, retiring, and meditative man), and have often seen trimming his bright little flower-garden fronting his neat cottage in the city road--a pastry-cook's shop, an apple and oyster stall, and part of the eagle tavern ("to what base uses," &c.) now occupy its, to me, hallowed site,--i send you a few extracts from his sale catalogue, an interesting and a rare document, as a mournful record of a genius as original and picturesque, as it was beautiful and holy. his books, prints, drawings ( lots), and furniture ( lots) were sold in the humble house in which he died, at shefford, beds, on the th and th may, . the far greater number of his books had been presented to him by his friends, viz. the duke of grafton (a very liberal contributor), dr. drake, james montgomery, samuel rogers, mrs. barbauld, richard cumberland, sir james bland burges, capel lofft, &c. his autograph manuscript of _the farmer's boy_, elegantly bound, was sold for l.; of _rural tales_, boards, for l.; of _wild flowers_, for l. s.; of _banks of the wye_, for l.; of _may-day with the muses_ (imperfect), for ten shillings; and _description of the Æolian harp_ (he was a maker of Æolian harps), for s. his few well-executed drawings by _himself_ (views of his city road cottage and garden, &c.) produced from s. to s. each. among his furniture were "a handsome inkstand, presented to him by the celebrated dr. jenner" (in return for his sweet poem of "good tidings"), and the "celebrated oak table, which mr. bloomfield may be said to have rendered immortal by the beautiful and pathetic poem inscribed to it in his _wild flowers_. the first was sold for l. s., the second for l. i am happy in the possession of the _original miniature_ (an admirable likeness, and finely painted) of robert bloomfield, by edridge. it is the first and most authentic portrait of him that was engraved, and prefixed to his poems: "and long as nature in her simplest guise, and virtuous sensibility we prize, of well-earn'd fame no poet shall enjoy a fairer tribute than _the farmer's boy_." george daniel. * * * * * note for london topographers. i send you a note for london topographers. the charter is dateless, but, inasmuch as walter de langeton was appointed to the bishopric of coventry and lichfield in , and sir john le bretun was "custos" of london to edw. i., _i.e._ to , we may fairly assign it to the years or :-- "omnibus christi fidelibus ad quos presentes litere pervenerint, johannes de notlee salutem in domino. noveritis me remisisse, et omnino quietum clamasse pro me et heredibus meis, domino waltero de langeton, coventrensi et lichfeldensi episcopo, heredibus, vel assignatis suis, totum jus et clameum quod habui, vel aliquo modo habere potui, in quadam placea terre cum pertinenciis in vico westmonasterio sine ullo retenemento, illam videlicet que jacet inter exitum curie et porte domini walteri episcopi supradicti, ex una parte, et tenementum henrici coci ex altera, et inter altum stratam que ducit de charryngg versus curiam westmonasterii, ex parte una et tenementum domini walteri episcopi supradicti, ex altera; ita quod ego predictus johannes, aut heredes mei, sive aliquis nomine nostro nuncquam durante seculo in predicta placea terre cum omnibus suis pertinenciis, aliquod jus vel clameum habere, exigere, vel vendicare poterimus quoquo modo in perpetuum. in cujus rei testimonium, sigillum meum apposui huic scripto. his testibus, dominis johanne le bretun tunc custode civitatis londonii; roberto de basingg, militibus; johanne de bankwelle; radulpho le vynneter; adam de kynggesheued; henrico coco; reginaldo le porter; henrico du paleys; hugone le mareschal, et aliis." lambert b. larking. * * * * * sermons by parliamentary chaplains. perhaps there is nothing in ecclesiastical writings more ludicrously and rabidly solemn than the sermons preached before "the honourable house of commons" during the protectorate, by that warlike race of saints who figure so extensively in the { } history of those times. i possess some thirty of these, and extract from their pages the following morsels, which may be taken as a fair sample of the general strain: from "'gemitus columbæ,' the mournful note of the dove; a sermon preached," &c.: by john langley, min. of west tuperley in the countie of southampton. . "the oxen were plowing, the asses were feeding beside them ('twas in the relation of one of job's messengers). by the oxen wee are to vnderstand the laborious clergie; by the asses, that were feeding beside them, wee may vnderstande the laity" (!).--p. . "the worde set on by the spirit, as scanderbags' sworde, by the arme of scanderbags, will make a deepe impression."--p. . query, what is the allusion here? "we came to the height, shall i saye, of our fever (or frenzie, rather), when _wee began to catch dotterills_, when wee fell to cringing and complimenting in worship, stretching out a wing to their wing, a legge to their legge."--p. . "time was when the _dove-cote was searched, the pistolls were cockt; the bloudie-birdes were skirring about_: then the lord withdrew the birds."--p. . "when your ginnes and snares _catch any of the bloudie-birdes, dally not with them, blood will have blood_; contracte not their bloude-guiltinesse vpon your owne soules, by an vnwarranted clemencie and mildnesse."--p. . "(_note._--the 'bloudie-birdes,' _i. e._ the cavaliers.)" from "a peace offering to god: a sermon preached," &c., by stephen marshall, b.d. . "not like tavernes, and alehouses, howses of lewd and debauched persons, where _zim and jim_ dwels, dolefull creatures, fitt only to be agents to satan."--p. . i conclude with a rather interesting scrap, which i do not remember to have met with elsewhere, from "the ruine of the authors and fomentors of ciuill warre; a sermon," &c., by samuel gibson. . "there was a good motto written ouer the gates at yorke, at king james the firste his firste entraunce into that city: 'suavis victoriæ amor populi.' _i. e._ the sweete victorie is the love of the people."--p. . r. c. warde. kidderminster. * * * * * a perspective view of twelve postage-stamps. in the advertising sheet of "n. & q." for december , , its unartistic readers have the tempting offer placed before them of being taught "the art of drawing and copying portraits, views, steel or wood engravings, with perfect accuracy, ease, and quickness, _in one lesson_! and when the gentle reader of "n. & q." has recovered from the shock of this startling announcement, he is further instructed that, "by sending a stamped directed envelope and twelve postage-stamps, the necessary articles will be forwarded with the instructions." who would not, thinks the gentle reader, be a raphael, a rubens, or a claude, when the metamorphosis may be effected for twelve postage-stamps? and then, delighted with the thought that no expensive residence in italy, or laborious application through long years of study, will be required, but that the royal road to art may be traversed by paying the small toll of twelve postage-stamps, he forthwith gives them to "mr. a. b. cleveland, . victoria street, brighton," and in due course of time mr. a. b. c. forwards him "the necessary articles with the instructions," the former of which the gentle reader certainly finds to be "no expensive apparatus," but as simple as a, b, c. the articles consist of a small piece of black paper, and a small piece of common tissue paper, oiled in a manner very offensive to a susceptible nose. the instructions are printed, and are prefaced by a paragraph which truly declares them to be "most simple:" "the outlines must be sketched by the following means, and may _be filled up according to pleasure_. in the first place, _lay what you intend to copy straight before you_; then _lay over it_ the transparent paper, and you will see the outlines most distinctly; pencil them over lightly, taking care to keep the paper in the same position until you have finished the outlines; after which, place the paper or card you intend the copy to appear on under the black tracing-paper, with the black side on it, and on which place the outlines you have previously taken, remembering to keep them all straight, and then, by passing a piece of wire (or anything brought to a point not sufficient to scratch) correctly over the said outlines, you will have an exact impression of the original upon the card intended, _which must then be filled up_. i would recommend a portrait _for the first attempt_, which can be done in a few minutes, and you will soon see your success. _of course you can ink or paint the copy according to pleasure._" "why, of course i can," probably exclaims the now un-gentle reader; "of course i can, when i have the ability to do it,--a consummation which i devoutly wish for, and which i am quite as far from as when i was weak-minded enough to send my twelve postage-stamps to mr. a. b. c.; and yet that individual encloses me a card along with his nasty oiled paper and 'instructions,' which card he has the assurance to head 'scientific!' and says, 'the exquisite and beautiful art of drawing landscapes, &c. from nature, in true perspective, with perfect accuracy, ease, and quickness, taught to the most inexperienced person in one _lesson_.' { } "i should like to know how i am to lay the landscape straight before me, and put my oiled paper on the top of it, and trace its outlines in true perspective? i should like also to know, since mr. a. b. c. recommends a portrait for the first attempt, how i am to lay the transparent paper over my wife's face, without her nose making a hole in the middle of it? it is all very well for mr. a. b. c. to say that he 'continues to receive very satisfactory testimonials respecting the result of his instructions, which are remarkable for simplicity (i allow that), and invaluable for correctness' (i deny that). but, although he prints 'result' in capital letters, all the testimonial that i can give him will be to testify to the (on his part) satisfactory result attending his 'art of drawing' twelve postage-stamps out of my pocket." thus, can i imagine, would the gentle reader soliloquise, on finding he had received two worthless bits of paper in return for his investment of postage-stamps. my thoughts were somewhat the same; for i, alas! sent "twelve postage-stamps," which are now lost to view in the dim perspective, and i shall only be too happy to sell mr. a. b. c. his instructions, &c. at half-price. in the mean time, however, i forward them for mr. editor's inspection. cuthbert bede, b.a. * * * * * minor notes. _cremona violins._--as many of your readers are no doubt curious about the prices given, in former times, for musical instruments, i transcribe an order of the time of charles ii. for the purchase of two cremona violins. "[_audit office enrolments_, vi. .] "these are to pray and require you to pay, or cause to be paid, to john bannester, one of his ma^{ties} musicians in ordinary, the some of fourty pounds for two cremona violins by him bought and delivered for his ma^{ts} service, as may appeare by the bill annexed, and also tenn pounds for stringes for two yeares ending june , . and this shall be your warrant. given under my hand, this th day of october, , in the fourteenth year of his majesty's reign. "e. manchester. "to s^r edward griffin, kn^t, treasurer of his ma^{ties} chamber." peter cunningham. _prices of tea._--from read's _weekly journal or british gazetteer_, saturday, april , : "green tea s. to s. per lb. congou s. to s. " bohea s. to s. " pekoe s. to s. " imperial s. to s. " hyson s. to s. " e. _coleridge a prophet._--among the political writers of the nineteenth century, who has shown such prophetic insight into the sad destinies of france as coleridge? it is the fashion with literary sciolists to ignore the genius of this great man. let the following extracts stand as evidences of his profound penetration. _friend_, vol. i. p. . ( ): "that man has reflected little on human nature who does not perceive that the detestable maxims and correspondent crimes of the existing french despotism, have already dimmed the recollections of democratic phrenzy in the minds of men; by little and little have drawn off to other objects the electric force of the feelings which had massed and upholden those recollections; and that a favourable concurrence of occasions is alone wanting to awaken the thunder and precipitate the lightning from the opposite quarter of the political heaven." let the events of and speak for themselves as to the fulfilment of this forecast. _biographia literaria_, vol. i. p. . ( ), [after a most masterly analysis of practical genius]: "these, in tranquil times, are formed to exhibit a perfect poem in palace, or temple, or landscape-garden, &c.... but alas! in times of tumult they are the men destined to come forth as the shaping spirit of ruin, to destroy the wisdom of ages in order to substitute the fancies of a day, and to change kings and kingdoms, as the wind shifts and shapes the clouds." let the present and the future witness the truth of this insight. we have (in coleridge's words) "lights of admonition and warning;" and we may live to repent of our indifference, if they are thrown away upon us. c. mansfield ingleby. birmingham. _lord bacon's advice peculiarly applicable to the correspondents of "n. & q."_--lord bacon has written that-- "a man would do well to carry a pencil in his pocket, and write down the thoughts of the moment. those that come unsought for are generally the most valuable, and should be secured, because they seldom return." w. w. malta. _etymology of molasses._--the affinity between the orthography of this word in italian (melássa), spanish (melaza), and french (mélasse), and our pronunciation of it (m_e_lasses), would seem to suggest a common origin. how comes it, then, that we write it with an _o_ instead of an _e_? walker says it is derived frown the italian "mellazzo" (_sic_); and some french lexicographers trace their "mélasse" from [greek: melas], with reference to the colour; others from [greek: meli], in allusion to the taste. but these greek derivations are too recondite for our early sugar manufacturers; and the likelihood { } is, that they found the word nearer home, in some circumstance which had less to do with literary refinement than with the refining of sugar. there is an expression in french which is identical in spelling with this word, namely, "molasse" (softish--so to speak); and which describes the liquidity of molasses, as distinguished from the granulous substance of which they are the residue. as our first sugar establishment was formed in , in an island (st. christopher) one half of which was then occupied by the french, it is possible that we may have adopted the word from them; and this conjecture is supported by the following passage in père labat (vol. iii. p. .), where he uses the word "molasse" in the sense of _soft_, to describe a species of sugar that had not received, or had lost, the proper degree of consistency. "je vis leur sucre qui me parut très beau et bien gréné, surtout lorsqu'il est nouvellement fait; mais on m'assura qu'il devenait cendreux ou _molasse_, et qu'il se décuisait quand il était gardé quelques jours." henry h. breen. st. lucia. _a sounding name._--at the church of elmley castle, worcestershire, is a record of one john chapman, whose name, it is alleged, "sounds in (or throughout) the world," but for my own part i have never been privileged to hear either the original blast or the echo. perhaps some of the readers of "n. & q." can inform me who and what was the owner of this high-sounding name. was he related to geo. chapman, the translator of homer? the inscription is as follows: "memoriæ defunctorum sacrum [greek: kai tuphônia] siste gradum, viator, ac leges. in spe beatæ resurrectionis hic requiescunt exuviæ johannis chapmanni et isabellæ uxoris, filiæ gulielmi allen de wightford, in comitat. war. ab antiquo proavorum stemmate deduxerunt genus. variis miseriarum agitati procellis ab strenue succumbentis in arrescenti juventutis æstate, piè ac peccatorum poenitentia expirabant animas. maij die anno domini . sistite pierides chapmannum plangere, cujus spiritus in coelis, _nomen in orbe sonat_." j. noake. worcester. * * * * * queries. roman sepulchral inscriptions. in the year i brought from the columbaria, near the tomb of scipio africanus at rome, a small collection of sepulchral fictile vessels, statuettes, &c., in terra cotta. among these was a small figure, resembling the athenian hermæ, consisting of a square pillar, surmounted by the bust of a female with a peculiar head-dress and close curled coiffure. the pillar bears the following inscription: "[greek: yst] [greek: ran] [greek: s] [greek: ani] [greek: kÊt] [greek: o.]" --a translation of which would oblige me much. another, in the form of a small votive altar, bears the heads of the "dii majores" and their attributes, the thunderbolt, two-pronged spear, and trident, and the inscription-- "diis propi m herennii vivntis" (_i.e._ vivantis). of the meaning of this i am by no means certain; and i have searched montfaucon in vain, to discover anything similar. a third was a figure of the egyptian osiris, exactly resembling in every point (save the material) the little mummy-shaped figures in bluish-green porcelain, which are found in such numbers in the catacombs of ghizeh and abousir. as the columbaria were probably the places of sepulture of the freedmen, these various traces of national worship would seem to indicate that they were still allowed to retain the deities peculiar to the countries from which they came, through their master might be of a different faith. e. s. taylor. ormesby, st. marg., norfolk. * * * * * chapel plaster. in north wilts, between corsham and bradford, and close to the meeting of five or six roads, there is a well-known public-house, contiguous to which is an ancient wayside chapel bearing this peculiar name. some account of the place, with two views of the chapel, is given in the _gentleman's magazine_, february, , page . the meaning of the word _plaster_ has always been a puzzle to local antiquaries, and no satisfactory derivation of it has yet been given. the first and natural notion is, that some allusion is made to the material with which it may have been coated. but this is improbable, the building being of good freestone, not requiring any such external addition. some have interpreted it to be the chapel of the _plas-trew_, or "woody place." but this again is very unlikely; as the place is not only as far as possible from being woody now, but can hardly ever have been otherwise than what it is. the rock comes close to the surface, and the general situation is on a bleak exposed hill, as unfavourable as can be for the growth of trees. leland, indeed, as he rode by, took it for a hermitage, and does also say that the country beyond it "begins to be woody." but { } a point of meeting of five or six much frequented roads, a few miles only from bath and other towns, would be an unsuitable spot for a hermit; besides which, the country _beyond_ a spot, is not the spot itself. others have thought it may have been built by a person of the name of _plaister_; one which, though uncommon, is still not entirely extinct in the county. of this, however, there is no evidence. a derivation has occurred to me from noticing a slight variety in the spelling and statement of the name, as it is given by one of the ancient historians of glastonbury. he calls it "the chapell of _playsters_," and says that, like one or two houses of a similar kind, it was built for the relief and entertainment of _pilgrims_ resorting to the great shrine at that monastery. this indeed is the most reasonable and probable account of it, as it lies on the direct road between malmesbury and glastonbury, and the prevailing tradition has always been that such was the purpose for which it was used. it is fair to presume that the name has some connexion with the use. now, it is well known that pilgrimages were not in all respects very painful or self-denying exercises, but that, with the devotional feeling in which they took their origin, was combined, in course of time, a considerable admixture of joviality and recreation. they were often, in short, looked upon as parties for merry-making, by people of every class of life, who would leave their business and duties, on pretence of these pious expeditions, but really for a holiday, and, as chaucer himself describes it, "to _play_ a pilgrimage." ("the shipmanne's tale.") many also were pilgrims by regular profession, as at this day in italy, for the pleasure of an idle gad-about life at other people's expense. may not such "play-ers" of pilgrimages have been called, in the vernacular of the times, _play-sters_? the termination _-ster_, said to be derived from a saxon noun, seems in our language to signify a _habit_ or _constant employment_. a _malt-ster_ is one whose sole business it is to make malt; a _tap-ster_, one whose duties are confined to the tap; a _road-ster_ is a horse exclusively used as a hack; a _game-ster_, the devotee of the gaming-table. from these analogies it seems not unreasonable to suppose that the persons who made a constant habit of attending these pleasant jaunts to glastonbury, may have been called by the now-forgotten name of _play-sters_. if so, "the chapell of _play-sters_" becomes nothing more than "the chapel of _pilgrims_," according to the best tradition that we have of it. perhaps some of your readers may have met with the word in this sense? j. e. jackson. leigh delamere. * * * * * minor queries. _martha blount._--is there any engraved portrait of this lady? and can any of your numerous correspondents give me reasonable hope of finding portraits of mrs. rackett and other connexions of pope? i would suggest, that when we are favoured with a new edition of the little great man's works, each volume should contain a portrait, if procurable, of those who catch a reflected ray of greatness from association with the poet. a. f. westmacott. feltham house, middlesex. _degree of b.c.l._--in vol. vi., p. ., an oxford b.c.l. asked the privileges to which a gentleman having taken this degree was entitled. perhaps your correspondent will inform me what is the least time of _actual_ residence required at the university, and the kind of examination a candidate for the honour has to be subjected to, before he becomes a b.c.l.? also the way for a stranger to go about it, who wants to spend as little money and time in the matter as is possible? j. f. halifax. _the word "anywhen."_--why should not this adverb, which exists as a provincialism in some parts of england, be legitimatised, and made as generally useful as _anywhere_, or _anyhow_, or _anyone_? if there be no classical precedent for it, will not some of the many authors who contribute to your pages take pity upon _anywhen_, and venture to introduce him to good society, where i am sure he would be appreciated? w. fraser. _shoreditch cross, &c._--can any of your readers inform me where a model or picture of the cross which formerly stood near the church of st. leonard, shoreditch, can be seen? also, where a copy of any description can be seen of the painted window in the said church? sir henry ellis, in his _history of the parish_, gives us no illustration of the above. j. w. b. _winchester and huntingdon._--i would with your permission ask, whether winchester and huntingdon have at any time been more populous than they are at present, and what may have been the largest number of inhabitants they are supposed to have contained? g. h. _la bruyère._--what is known concerning the family of jean de la bruyère, author of _les caractères_? did he belong to the great french house of that name? one of the biographical dictionaries states that he was grandson of a lieutenant civil, engaged in the fronde; but m. suard, in his "notice" prefixed to _les caractères_, says that nothing is known of the author except his birth, death, and office. his grand-daughter, { } magdalen rachel de la bruyère, married an officer of the name of shrom, and died in , at morden in surrey, where there is a handsome monument to her memory. being one of her descendants in the female line, i should feel much obliged by any information respecting her father, the son of jean de la bruyère; or tending to connect that writer with the family founded by thibault de la bruyère, the crusader. ursula. _sir john davys or davies._--i am very anxious to get any information that can be procured about sir john davys or davies, knight marshal of connaught, temp. elizabeth. what were his arms? any portions of his pedigree would be _most_ desirable; also any notices of the various grants of land given by him, particularly to members of his own family. i would also give any reasonable price for john davies' _display of heraldry of six counties of north wales_, published : or, if any of the readers of "n. & q." have the book, and would favour me with a loan of it, i would return it carefully as soon as i had made some extracts from it. seivad. _fleshier of otley._--what are the arms of fleshier of otley, yorkshire? they existed, not many years ago, in a window of a house built by one of the above-named family, in otley. b. m. a. bingley, yorkshire. _letters u, v, w._--could any correspondent of the "n. & q." give us any clear idea of the manner in which we ought to judge of those letters as they are printed from old mss. or in old books. is there any rule known by which their pronunciation can be determined? for instance, how was the name of wales supposed to have been pronounced four hundred years ago, or the name walter? how could two such different sounds as _u_ and _v_ now represent, come by the old printers both to be denoted by _v_? and is it supposed that our present mode of pronouncing some words is taken from their spelling in books? we see this done in foreign names every day by persons who have no means of ascertaining the correct pronunciation. can it have been done extensively in the ordinary words of the language? or can it be possible, that the confusion between the printed _v_ and _w_ and _u_ has produced the confusion in pronouncing such words now beginning with _w_, which some classes of her majesty's subjects are said to pronounce as if they commenced with _v_? i ask for information: and to know if the question has anywhere been discussed, in which case perhaps some one can refer me to it. a. f. h. _heraldic query._--i should be greatly indebted to any of your correspondents who will assist me in tracing the family to which the following arms belong. last century they were borne by a gentleman of the name of oakes: but i find no grant in the college, nor, in fact, can i discover any british arms like them. argent, a pale per pale or, and gules: between two limbs of an oak fructed proper. on a chief barry of six of the second and third; a rose between two leopards faces all of the last. c. mansfield ingleby. _"drengage" and "berewich."_--in _domesday_ certain tenants are described as drenches or drengs, holding by drengage; and some distinction is made between the drengs and another class of tenants, who are named _berewites_; as, for instance, in newstone,-- "huj' [manerium abbrev.] ali[=a] t'r[=a] xv ho[=e]s quos _drenchs_ vocabant pro xv [manerium abbrev.] tenet sed huj' [manerium abbrev.] _berewich_ erant." i shall be glad if any information as to these tenures, and also as to the derivation of the words "drengage" and "berewich," or berewite, both of which may be traced, i believe, to a danish origin. james crosby. streatham. _sidney as a female name._--in several families of our city the christian name of sidney is borne by _females_, and it is derived, directly or indirectly, from a traceable source. the object of the present inquiry is to ascertain whether the same name, and thus spelled, is similarly applied in any families of great britain? if at all, it should be found in the north of ireland. but your correspondent would be pleased to learn, from any quarter, of such use of the name, together with the tradition of the reason for its adoption. r. d. b. baltimore. "_the brazen head._"--will any reader of "n. & q." be good enough to inform the undersigned where he can obtain, by purchase or by loan, the perusal of any part or parts of the above-mentioned work? it was published as a serial in or . a. f. a. w. swillington. _portrait of baron lechmere._--can any of your correspondents inform me if there is any engraved portrait in existence of the celebrated whig, lord lechmere, baron of evesham, who died at camden house, london, in the year , and lies buried in the church of hanley castle, near upton-on-severn, co. worcester? while on the subject of portraits, some of your correspondents may be glad to learn that an excellent catalogue of engraved portraits is now passing through the press, by messrs. evans and sons, great queen street, lincoln's inn fields, of which forty-six numbers are issued. j. b. whitborne. { } _"essay for a new translation of the bible," and "letters on prejudice."_--a friend of mine has requested me to inquire through "n. & q." who are the authors of the undermentioned books, in his possession? _an essay for a new translation of the bible_, one volume vo.: "printed for r. gosling, ." dedicated to the bishops: the dedication signed "h. r."--_letters on prejudice_, two volumes vo.: "in which the nature, causes, and consequences of prejudice in religion are considered, with an application to the present times:" printed for cadell in the strand; and blackwood, edinburgh, . w. w. t. _david garrick._--in the sale catalogue of isaac reed's books is a lot described as "letter of david garrick against mr. stevens, with observations by mr. reed, ms. and printed." can any of your correspondents inform me in whose possession is this letter with reed's observations; whether garrick's letter was published; and, if so, what public library contains a copy? g. d. _aldiborontophoskophornio._--will you or some of your readers inform me in what play, poem, or tale this hero, with so formidable a name, is to be found? f. r. s. _quotations wanted._--will you or some of your correspondents tell _where_ this sentence occurs: "it requireth great cunning for a man to seem to know that which he knoweth not?" miss edgeworth gives it as from lord bacon. _i_ cannot find it. also, _where_ this very superior line: "life is like a game of tables, the chances are not in our power, but the playing is?" _this_ i have seen quoted as from jeremy taylor, but _where_? i have looked his works carefully through: it is so clever that it _must_ be from a superior mind. and _where_, in campbell, is "a world without a sun?" this, i _believe_, is in _gertrude of wyoming_. excuse this trouble, mr. editor; but you are now become the general referee in puzzles of _this_ kind. a. b. _arago on the weather._--i saw some of arago's meteorological observations in an english magazine some time ago, taken, i believe, from the _annuaire_. can any one give me a reference to them? elsno. _"les veus du hairon," or "le voeu du héron."_--is any more known of this curious historical romance than sainte palaye tells us in the third volume of his _mémoires sur l'ancienne chevalerie_? he gives the original text (i suspect not very correctly) from, he says, a ms. in the public library at berne. it is a poem in old french verse (something like chaucer's english), of about lines, descriptive of a series of _vows_, by which robert comte d'artois, then an exile in england, engaged edward iii., his queen and court, to the invasion of france: "dont maint bon chevalier fu jété fort souvin; mainte dame fu vesve, et maint povre orfelin; et maint bon maronier accourchit son termin; et mainte preude femme mise à divers destin; et encore sera, si jhesus n'i met fin." the first lines of the poem give the place and date of the transaction, "london, september, ," in king edward's "palais marbrin." the versification is as strange as the matter. the author has taken great pains to collect as many words rhyming together as possible. the first twenty-six lines rhyme to "in;" the hundred next to "is;" then fifty to "ent," and so on: but the lines have all their rhythm, and some are smooth and harmonious. has any other ms. been discovered? has it been elsewhere printed? has it been translated into english, or has any english author noticed it? if these questions are answered in the negative, i would suggest that the camden, or some such society, would do well to reprint it, with a translation, and sainte palaye's commentary, and whatever additional information can be gathered about it; for although it evidently is a _romance_, it contains many particulars of the court of england, and of the manners of the time, which are extremely curious, and which must have a good deal of truth mixed up with the chivalrous fable. c. _inscriptions on a dagger-case._--i have in my possession a small dagger-case, very beautifully carved in box-wood, bearing the following inscriptions on two narrow sides, and carved representations of scripture subjects on the other two broad sides. _inscriptions._ "die een peninck wint ende behovt die macht verteren als hi wort owt had." "ick dat bedocht in min ionge dagen so dorst ick het in min ovtheit niet beglagen." on the other sides the carvings, nine in number, four on one side, one above another, represent the making of eve, entitled "scheppin;" the temptation, entitled "paradis;" the expulsion, "engelde;" david with the head of goliath, "davide." at the foot of this side the date " ," and a head with pointed beard, &c. beneath. on the other side are five subjects: the uppermost, entitled "hesterine," represents queen esther kneeling before ahasuerus. . "vannatan," a kneeling figure, another stretching his arm over him, attendants following with offerings. . "solomone," the judgment of solomon. . "susannen." . "samson," the jaw-bone in his hand; beneath "slang;" and at the foot of all, a dragon. the case is handsomely mounted in silver. { } may i ask you or some of your readers to give me an interpretation of the inscriptions? g. t. h. _hallett and dr. saxby._--in the _literary journal_, july, , p. ., in an article on "the abuses of the press," it is stated: "hallett, to vex dr. saxby, published some disgraceful verses, entitled '_an ode to virtue_, by doctor morris saxby;' but the doctor on the day after the publication obliged the bookseller to give up the author, on whom he inflicted severe personal chastisement, and by threats of action and indictment obliged both author and bookseller to make affidavit before the lord mayor that they had destroyed every copy in their possession, and would endeavour to recover and destroy the eight that were sold." can any of your readers throw a further light upon this summary proceeding, as to the time, the book, or the parties? s. r. rugby. * * * * * replies. descent of the queen from john of gaunt. (vol. vi., p. .) i have in my possession a pedigree, compiled from original sources, which will, i believe, fully support your correspondent's opinion that the year usually assigned for the death of joan beaufort's first husband ( ) is inaccurate. two entries on the patent rolls respectively of the st and d richard ii., as cited in the pedigree, prove that event to have taken place before lord neville of raby's creation as earl of westmoreland; and i am inclined to think that his creation was rather a consequence of his exalted alliance than, as the later and falsely assigned date would lead one to infer, that his creation preceded his marriage by twelve or thirteen years. robert ferrers son and heir of robert, first lord ferrers of wemme (second son of robert, third baron ferrers of chartley), and of elizabeth, daughter and heiress of william boteler of wemme, was born circa , being eight years old at his father's death in (_esc._, ric. ii., no. .). he married joan beaufort, only daughter of john duke of lancaster by catharine swynford, who became the duke's third wife, th january, ; their issue before marriage having been made legitimate by a patent read in parliament, and dated th february, (_pat._, ric. ii. p. . m. .). it might almost be inferred from the description given to joan, lady ferrers, in the patent of legitimation, "dilectæ _nobis nobili mulieri johannæ beauford, domicellæ_," that her first husband was not then living. we find, however, that she had certainly become the wife of the lord neville before the th of february following, and that lord ferrers was then dead (_johanne qui fuist femme de monsieur robert ferrers que dieu assoile_): _pat._, ric. ii. p. . m. .; _pat_., ric. ii. p. . m. . the lord ferrers left by her only two daughters, his coheirs, viz. elizabeth, wife of john, sixth baron greystock, and mary, wife of ralph neville, a younger son of ralph, lord neville of raby, by his first wife margaret stafford. the mistake in ascribing lord ferrers' death to the year , has probably arisen from that being the year in which his mother died, thus recorded in the pedigrees: "robert ferrers, s. & h. ob^t _vita matris_," who (_i.e._ the mother) died (_esc._, hen. iv., no. .). his widow remarried ralph, lord neville of raby, fourth baron, who was created earl of westmoreland, th september, [ ], { } and died . the countess of westmoreland died th november, . as regards the queen's descent from john, duke of lancaster, in the strictly legitimate line, i may wish to say a word at another time. allow me now, with reference to the same pedigree, to append a query to this reply: can any of your learned genealogical readers direct me to the authority which may have induced miss a. strickland, in her amusing _memoirs of the lives of the english queens_, to give so strenuous a denial of henry viii.'s queen, jane seymour's claim to a royal lineage? miss strickland writes: "through margaret wentworth, the mother of jane seymour, a descent from the blood-royal of england was claimed, from an intermarriage with a wentworth and a daughter of hotspur and lady elizabeth mortimer, grand-daughter to lionel, duke of clarence. this lady percy is stated by all ancient heralds to have died childless. few persons, however, dared dispute a pedigree with henry viii.," &c.--_lives of the queens of england_, by agnes strickland, vol. iv. p. . this is a question, i conceive, of sufficient historical importance to receive a fuller investigation, and fairly to be determined, if possible. the pedigree shows the following descent:--lionel plantagenet, duke of clarence, third son of king edward iii. and philippa of hainault, left by elizabeth de burgh (daughter of william de burgh, earl of ulster, and maud plantagenet, second daughter of henry, third earl of lancaster) an only child, philippa, married to edmund mortimer, third earl of march (_esc._, ric. ii., no. .). the eldest daughter of philippa plantagenet by the earl of march was elizabeth mortimer, who married the renowned hotspur, henry lord percy, son and heir apparent of henry lord percy, created earl of northumberland, th july, , k. g. hotspur was slain at the battle of shrewsbury, th september, , _v.p._ his widow experienced the revengeful persecution of king henry (rymer, viii. ., oct. , ), and died, leaving by her said husband one son, henry, who became second earl of northumberland, and an only daughter, elizabeth de percy, who married firstly, john, seventh lord clifford of westmoreland, who died th march, (_esc._, henry v., no. .), and secondly, ralph neville, second earl of westmoreland (_esc._, hen. vi., no. .), by whom she left an only child, sir john neville, knight, who died during his father's lifetime, th march, , _s.p._ (will proved th march, .) lady elizabeth de percy, who died in october, , left by her first husband, the lord clifford, three children: thomas, eighth lord clifford; henry, her second son; and an only daughter, mary, who became the wife of sir philip wentworth, knight. the lady mary clifford, who must have been born before (her father having died in that year), was probably only a few years older than her husband sir philip, the issue of a marriage which took place in june, henry vi., (_cott. mss. cleop._, f. iv. f. .); she was buried in the church of the friars minor at ipswich, where her mother-in-law directed a marble to be laid over her body. sir philip's father, roger wentworth, esq. (second son of john wentworth of north elmsal, a scion of the house of wentworth of the north), had married in margery lady de roos, widow of john lord de roos, sole daughter and heiress of elizabeth de tibetot, or tiptoft (third daughter and co-heir of robert, lord de tibetot), and of sir philip le despenser chivaler (_esc._, edw. iv., no. .). by this marriage came, first, sir philip wentworth, knight, born circa , and married when about { } twenty-three years of age, in ; he was slain in , and attainted of high treason in the parliament held edw. iv.; second, henry wentworth of codham, in the county of essex; third, thomas wentworth chaplain; and fourth, agnes, wife of sir robert constable of flamborough (_harl. mss._, . - , and will of margery, lady de roos, proved in the prerogative court of canterbury, th may, ). sir philip, about the year , as before stated, married the lady mary clifford (_harl. mss._, . and .), sister of thomas lord clifford, who was slain at the battle of st. alban's in , and aunt of the lord clifford who stabbed the youthful edmund plantagenet at the battle of wakefield, and was himself slain and attainted in parliament, st edward iv. . the issue of this marriage was sir henry wentworth of nettlestead, in the county of suffolk, knight, his son and heir (will of margery, lady de roos, proved as above), born circa , being thirty years of age at his grandmother's death in (_esc._, edward iv., no. .), and died in . his will was proved in the prerogative court of canterbury, th february, . sir henry, son of sir philip, was restored in blood by an act of parliament passed in the th of edward iv. (_parliament rolls_, v. .), and having married anne, daughter of sir john say, knight (_rot. pat._, ric. ii., p. ., no. ., th february, ), left by her several children, viz. sir richard wentworth, knight, son and heir, edward wentworth, and four daughters, the second of whom, margery, was married to sir john seymour of wolf hall, in the county of wilts, knight (_harl. mss._, - . ., &c.), of which marriage, among other children, were born sir edward seymour, created duke of somerset, and jane, third wife of king henry viii., mother of edward vi. wm. hardy. [footnote : there is amongst the records of the duchy of lancaster an interesting grant from john, duke of lancaster, to his daughter joan beaufort, very soon after her marriage with lord neville of raby. this document, of which the following is a translation, proves that robert ferrers died before th february, . "john, son of the king of england, duke of guienne and of lancaster, earl of derby, of lincoln, and of leicester, steward of england, to all who these our letters shall see or hear, greeting. know ye that, of our especial grace, and forasmuch as our very loved son, the lord de neville, and our very loved daughter, joan, his wife (sa compaigne), who was the wife (femme) of monsieur robert ferrers (whom god assoyl), have surrendered into our chancery, to be cancelled, our other letters patent, whereby we formerly did grant unto the said monsieur robert and our aforesaid daughter marks a-year, to be received annually, for the term of their two lives, out of the issues of our lands and lordships of our honour of pontefract, payable, &c., as in our said other letters more fully it is contained: we, willing that our abovesaid son, the lord de neville, and our aforesaid daughter, his wife (sa compaigne), shall have of us, for the term of their two lives, marks a-year, or other thing to the value thereof, have granted by these presents to the same, our son and daughter, all those our lordships, lands, and tenements in easingwold and huby, and our three wapentakes of hang, hallikeld, and gilling, the which monsieur john marmyon (whom god assoyl) held of us in the county of york: to have and to hold our abovesaid lordships, tenements, and wapentakes, with their appurtenances, to our said son and daughter, for the term of their two lives, and the life of the survivor of them, in compensation for l. a-year, part of the abovesaid marks yearly. and also, we have granted by these presents to the same, our son and daughter, the manor of lydell, with appurtenances, to have and to hold for their lives, and the life of the survivor, in compensation for marks a-year of the abovesaid marks yearly, during the wars or truces between our lord the king and his adversary of scotland: so, nevertheless, that if peace be made between our same lord the king and his said adversary of scotland, and on that account the said manor of lydell, with the appurtenances, shall be found lawfully to be of greater and better yearly value than the said marks a-year, then our said son and daughter shall answer to us, during such peace as aforesaid, for the surplusage of the value of the said manor, beyond the said marks a-year, and the yearly reprises of the said manor. and in full satisfaction of the aforesaid marks a-year we have granted to our abovesaid son and daughter l. s. d. yearly, to be received out of the issues of our honours of pontefract and pickering, by the hands of our receiver there for the time being. in witness whereof we have caused these our letters to be made patent. given under our seal, at london, on the th day of february, in the twentieth year of the reign of our most dread sovereign lord king richard the second after the conquest" (a.d. ). the above grant was confirmed on the th of september, in the twenty-second of richard the second, , by the eldest son of john of gaunt, henry of lancaster, duke of hereford, a few weeks only before the duke's banishment, in the following words: "we, willing to perform and accomplish the good will and desires of our said very honoured lord and father, and in the confidence which we have in our said very loved brother, now earl of westmoreland, that he will be a good and natural son to our said very dread lord and father, and that he will be to us in time to come a good and natural brother, and also because of the great affection which we bear towards our said very loved sister, the countess his wife (sa compaigne), do, for us and our heirs, as far as in us lies, ratify and confirm to our said brother and sister the aforesaid letters patent, &c. given under our seal, at london, on the th day of september, in the twenty-second year of the reign of our most dread lord king richard the second after the conquest." king henry the fifth, on his accession, by a patent under the seal of the duchy of lancaster, dated at westminster, on the st of july, in the first year of his reign, confirmed the above letters "to the aforesaid earl and joan his wife;" and king henry the sixth in like manner confirmed his father's patent on the th of july, in the second year of his reign.--_regist. ducat. lanc. temp. hen. vi._, p. . fol. .] * * * * * uncertain etymologies--"leader." (vol. vi., p. .) i must differ from your correspondent c., in believing that the "n. & q." have effected much good service to etymology. even the exposure of error, and the showing up of crotchets, is of no inconsiderable use. i beg to submit that c. himself (unless there are other richmonds in the field) has done good service in this way. see _grummett_, _slang phrases_, _martinet_, _cockade_, _romane_, _covey_, _bummaree_, &c. i do not, indeed, give implicit faith to his _steyne_, and some more. he, however, would be a rash man who should write or help to write a dictionary of the english language (a desideratum at present) without turning over the indices of the "n. & q." even in the first volume, the discussions on _pokership_, _daysman_, _news_, and a great many others, seem to me at least valuable contributions to general knowledge on etymology. as to my remark (vol. vi., p. .) about the derivation of _leader_, c. has, perhaps excusably, for the sake of the pun, done me injustice. i hazarded it on the authority of one who has been in the trade, and, as i believe, in the _cuicunque perito_. i beg to inclose his own account. he says: "it is a fact, that when _editorial_ articles are sent to the printer, written directions are generally sent with them denoting what type is to be used: thus, _brevier leads_, or _bourgeois leads_, signifying that the articles are to be set in brevier or bourgeois type with _lead_ strips between the lines, to keep them further asunder. it is also a fact, that such articles are denominated in the printing-office 'leaded articles'--hence, leaders." i submit if this does not justify my note. i grant, however, many of those articles are entitled also to be called _leaden_, as c. will have it. i do not think, however, that in tracing recent words, we should not give possible as well as certain origins. many words, if not a double, have at least several putative origins. let me subscribe myself--_seu male seu bene_-- nota. p. s.--i would like to suggest that this origin of the term "leading article" is the most favourable to the modesty of any single writer for the press, who should hardly pretend to _lead_ public opinion. * * * * * lines on tipperary. (vol. vi., p. .) these lines were said to have been addressed to a dr. fitzgerald, on reading the following couplet in his apostrophe to his native village:-- "and thou! dear village, loveliest of the clime, fain would i name thee, but i scant in rhyme." i subjoin a tolerably complete copy of this "rime doggrele:" "a bard there was in sad quandary, to find a rhyme for tipperary. long labour'd he through january, yet found no rhyme for tipperary; toil'd every day in february, but toil'd in vain for tipperary; search'd hebrew text and commentary, but search'd in vain for tipperary; bored all his friends at inverary, to find a rhyme for tipperary; implored the aid of 'paddy cary,' yet still no rhyme for tipperary; he next besought his mother mary, to tell him rhyme for tipperary; but she, good woman, was no fairy, nor witch--though born in tipperary;-- knew everything about her dairy, but not the rhyme for tipperary; { } the stubborn muse he could not vary, for still the lines would run contrary, whene'er he thought on tipperary; and though of time he was not chary, 'twas thrown away on tipperary; till of his wild-goose chase most weary, he vow'd to leave out tipperary. . . . . . . but, no--the theme he might not vary, his longing was not temporary, to find meet rhyme for tipperary. he sought among the gay and airy, he pester'd all the military, committed many a strange vagary, bewitch'd, it seem'd, by tipperary. he wrote post-haste to darby leary, besought with tears his auntie sairie:-- but sought he far, or sought he near, he ne'er found a rhyme for tipperary. he travell'd sad through cork and kerry, he drove 'like mad' through sweet dunleary, kick'd up a precious tantar-ara, but found no rhyme for tipperary; lived fourteen weeks at stran-ar-ara, was well nigh lost in glenègary, then started 'slick' for demerara, in search of rhyme for tipperary. through 'yankee-land,' sick, solitary, he roam'd by forest, lake, and prairie, he went _per terram et per mare_, but found no rhyme for tipperary. through orient climes on dromedary, on camel's back through great sahara; his travels were extraordinary, in search of rhyme for tipperary. fierce as a gorgon or chimæra, fierce as alecto or megæra, fiercer than e'er a lovesick bear, he raged through 'the londe' of tipperary. his cheeks grew thin and wond'rous hairy, his visage long, his aspect 'eerie,' his _tout ensemble_, faith, would scare ye, amidst the wilds of tipperary. becoming hypochon-dri-ary, he sent for his apothecary, who ordered 'balm' and 'saponary,' herbs rare to find in tipperary. in his potations ever wary, his choicest drink was 'home gooseberry,' on 'swipes,' skim-milk, and smallest beer, he scanted rhyme for his tipperary. had he imbibed good old madeira, drank 'pottle-deep' of golden sherry, of falstaff's sack, or ripe canary, no rhyme had lack'd for tipperary. or had his tastes been literary, he might have found extemporary, without the aid of dictionary, some fitting rhyme for tipperary. or had he been an antiquary, burnt 'midnight oil' in his library, or been of temper less 'camsteary,' rhymes had not lack'd for tipperary. he paced about his aviary, blew up, sky-high, his secretary, and then in wrath and anger sware he, there was _no_ rhyme for tipperary." may we not say with touchstone, "i'll rhyme you so, eight years together; dinners, and suppers, and sleeping hours excepted: it is the right butter-woman's rank to market." j. m. b. * * * * * shakespeare emendations. (vol. vi., p. .) i cannot receive mr. cornish's substitution (p. .) of "chommer" for _clamour_ in the _winter's tale_, act iv. sc. . in my opinion, _clamour_ is nearly or altogether the right word, but wrongly spelt. we have a verb _to clam_, which, as connected with _clammy_, we use for sticking with glutinous matter; but which originally must, like the kindred german _klemmen_, have signified _to press_, _to squeeze_; for the kind of wooden vice used by harness-makers is, at least in some places, called a _clams_. i therefore suppose the clown to have said _clam_, or perhaps _clammer_ (_i.e._ hold) _your tongues._ highly plausible as is mr. c.'s other emendation in the same place of _ henry iv._, act iii. sc. ., i cannot receive it either. in shakspeare the word _clown_ is almost always nearly equivalent to the spanish _gracioso_, and denotes humour; and surely we cannot suppose it to be used of the ship-boy. besides, a verb is wanted, as the causal particle _for_ is as usual to be understood before "uneasy lies," &c. i see no objection whatever to the common reading, though _possibly_ the poet wrote: "then, happy _boy_, lie down." there never, in my opinion, was a happier emendation than that of _guidon_ for _guard_; _on_, in _henry v._, act iv. sc. .; and its being made by two persons independently, gives it--as mr. collier justly observes of _palpable_ for _capable_ in _as you like it_--additional weight. we are to recollect that a frenchman is the speaker. i find _guidon_ used for banner in the following lines of clément marot (elégie iii.): "de fermeté le grand _guidon_ suivrons," and-- "cestuy _guidon_ et triomphante enseigne, nous devons suyvre: amour le nous enseigne." the change of _a sea of troubles_ to _assay of troubles_ in _hamlet_ is very plausible, and ought perhaps to be received. so also is sir f. madden's of _face_ for _case_ (which last is downright nonsense) in _twelfth night_, act v. sc. . but i would just hint that as all the rest of the duke's speech is in rhyme, it is not impossible that the poet may have written-- "o thou dissembling cub! what wilt thou be when time hath sow'd a grizzle upon thee?" { } allow me now to put a question to the critics. in the two concluding lines of the _merchant of venice_ (the speaker, observe, is the jesting gratiano): "well, while i live, i'll fear no other thing so sore, as keeping safe nerissa's ring." may there not be a covert allusion to the story first told by poggio in his _facetiæ_, then by ariosto, then by rabelais, then by la fontaine, and, finally, by prior, in his _hans carvel_? rabelais was greatly read at the time. thomas keightley. * * * * * statues represented on coins. (vol. vi., p. .) mr. burgon (_inquiry into the motive of the representations on ancient coins_, p. .) says: "i do not believe that the types of coins are, on any occasion, original compositions; but always copied from some sacred public monument.... when we find minerva represented on coins, we are not to understand the type as _a minerva_, but _the minerva of that place_; and in some cases which might be brought forward, the individual statues which are represented on coins, or ancient copies, will be found still to exist." this opinion is certainly borne out by a very great number of proofs, and may almost be considered demonstrated. the farnese hercules is found on many coins, roman and greek. the commonest among the roman are those of gordianus pius, st and nd brass, with "virtvti avgvsti." three colonial coins of corinth, of severus, caracalla, and geta (vaillant, _num. imp. coloniis percuss_., ii. . . .), exhibit the same figure. as an additional illustration of mr. burgon's view, i would advert to the corinthian coin of aurelius (vaill. i. .), which has a hercules in a different attitude; and which vaillant regards as a copy of the statue mentioned by pausanias as existing at corinth. du choul (_religio vet. rom._, , pp. , .) gives a coin representing hercules killing antæus; and quotes pliny for a statue representing this by polycletus. haym also (_tesoro_, i. .) gives a coin with a reversed view of the same subject. the figures of hercules on coins of commodus are certainly copied from the statues of that emperor. baudelot de dairval (_de l'utilité des voyages_) gives a small silver statuette of commodus as hercules, certainly copied from the larger statues, and corresponding with those on coins. i am not aware of any coins exhibiting exactly the venus de medici. it is possible, however, that they exist, though i cannot at present find them. haym (_tesoro_, ii. ., tab. xvi. .) gives a coin of cnidus, with a very similar representation, the cnidian venus, known to be copied from a statue by praxiteles. i must say the same as to the apollo belvidere. i cannot at present refer to an engraving of the equestrian statue of aurelius, but mr. akerman (_descr. cat._, i. . . ., . .) describes gold coins and a medallion of aurelius, representing him on horseback; and i find in the plates appended by de bie to _augustini antiquatum ex nummis dialogi_, antw., , plate ., one of these coins engraved. i find the medallion engraved also by erizzo (last edition, n. d., p. .) who explains it as referring to this statue. he says, however, that the attribution of the statue was uncertain; and that on a medallion of antoninus pius, which he possessed, exactly the same representation was found, whence he was inclined to suppose it rather erected for antoninus pius. i suppose the coins of domna, alluded to by mr. taylor, are those with the legend "veneri victrici." in spite of the attitude, i can hardly think this intended for venus callipyge, from the fact that venus victrix is found in the same attitude on other coins, holding arms; and sometimes again holding arms, but in a different attitude, and more or less clothed. the legend is opposed also to this idea. see the coins engraved by ondaan, or oiselius, plate lii. the coin of plantilla in du choul (l. c. p. .) is a stronger argument; for here is seen a partially clothed venus victrix, with the same emblems, leaning on a shield, as the venus of domna leans on a column, but turned towards the spectator instead of away: thus demonstrating that no allusion to callipyge is to be seen in either. erizzo (l. c. p. .) mentions the discovery at rome of a fragment of a marble statue inscribed "veneris victricis." in the british museum (_townley gallery_, i. .) is a bas-relief representing the building of the ship argo. there is described in the _thomas catalogue_, p. . lot ., an unpublished (?) medallion of aurelius, possibly copied from this very bas-relief. a very doubtful specimen exists in the museum of the scottish antiquaries, which enables me to make this assertion, although it is not minutely described in the catalogue, and is otherwise explained. this is an additional confirmation of the original statement, and many more might be added but for the narrower limits allowed, which i fear i have already transgressed. w. h. scott. edinburgh. * * * * * judge jeffreys. (vol. vi., pp. . . .) this extraordinary and inhuman man was the sixth son of john jeffreys, esq., of acton, near wrexham, co. denbigh, by margaret, daughter of sir thomas ireland, knight, of bewsey, and was born _at his father's house_ about the year . { } he died on the th of april, , at thirty-five minutes past four in the morning. the tradition that his remains were deposited at enfield is incorrect. he was first interred in the tower privately, and after three years, when the day of persecution was past, his friends petitioned that they might be allowed to remove the coffin. this was granted, and by a warrant dated the th of september, , signed by the queen and directed to the governor of the tower, the body of lord jeffreys was removed, and buried a second time in a vault under the communion-table of st. mary, aldermanbury. as regards the number of places pointed out as the residence of judge jeffreys, the following are mentioned in the bill that was brought in for the forfeiture of his honour and estate. in salop he had the manors of wem and loppington, with many other lands and tenements; in leicestershire the manors of dalby and broughton; he bought dalby of the duke of buckingham, and after his death it passed to sir charles duncombe, and descended to anthony duncombe, afterwards lord feversham. in bucks he had the manor of bulstrode, which he had purchased of sir roger hill in , and the manor of fulmer, with other tenements. he built a mansion at bulstrode, which came afterwards to his son-in-law, charles dive, who sold it in the reign of queen anne, to william, earl of portland, in whose family, now aggrandised by a dukedom, it still continues. and he had an inclination at one time to have become the purchaser of another estate (gunedon park), but was outwitted by one of his legal brethren. judge jeffreys held his court in duke street, westminster, and made the adjoining houses towards the park his residence. these houses were the property of moses pitt the bookseller (brother of the western martyrologist), who, in his _cry of the oppressed_, complains very strongly against his tenant, the chancellor. jeffreys's "large house," according to an advertisement in the _london gazette_, was let to the three dutch ambassadors who came from holland to congratulate king william upon his accession in . it was afterwards used for the admiralty office, until the middle of king william's reign. "the house is easily known," says pennant, "by a large flight of stone steps, which his royal master permitted to be made into the park adjacent, for the accommodation of his lordship. these steps terminate above in a small court, on three sides of which stands the house." edward f. rimbault. the birthplace of judge jeffreys should not be a matter of doubt. the old house at acton in which his father lived, was in the parish of wrexham, and close to the confines of that parish and gresford. it was pulled down about seventy years ago, about the time when the present mansion bearing that same name was built. twenty years ago there were several persons living in the neighbourhood who remembered that it stood in the parish of wrexham. lord campbell, in his _lives of the lord chancellors of england_, vol. iii. p. ., writes,-- "he (judge jeffreys) of whom such tales were to be told, was born in his father's lowly dwelling at acton in the year ." and he subjoins the following note: "this is generally given as the year of his birth, but i have tried in vain to have it authenticated. there is no entry of his baptism, nor of the baptism of his brothers, in the register of wrexham, the parish in which he was born, nor in the adjoining parish of gresford, in which part of the family property lies. i have had accurate researches made in these registers by the kindness of my learned friend serjeant atcherley, who has estates in the neighbourhood. it is not improbable that, in spite of the chancellor's great horror of dissenters, he may have been baptized by 'a dissenting teacher.'" the fact is, however, and it is a fact known certainly twenty years ago to several of the inhabitants of gresford and wrexham, that no register has been preserved in the parish of wrexham for a period extending from to ; and none in the parish of gresford from to . i may add that no such registers have been discovered up to this time. taffy. when the family of jeffreys became possessed of acton is uncertain, probably at a very early period, being descended from cynric ap rhiwallon, great-grandson of tudor trevor. george jeffreys, afterwards chancellor, was born at acton, and was sixth son of john jeffreys and mary, daughter of sir thomas ireland of bewsey, near warrington, in lancashire. in the estate passed into the family of the robinsons of gwersyllt by the marriage of the eldest daughter and heiress of sir griffith jeffreys. ellis yonge, esq., of bryny orchyn (in the immediate neighbourhood), purchased the estate of acton from the trustees of the said robinson. the yonges were in no way related to the jeffreys, although bearing the same arms, as being also descended from the same tribe. gresford. * * * * * dutch allegorical picture. (vol. vi., pp. . .) in answer to the obliging notice which your correspondent cuthbert bede (vol. vi., p. .) has taken of my description of the dutch allegorical picture, i beg to say that i agree with him, and admit myself to be mistaken in supposing the { } middle picture described (vol. vi., p. .) to represent st. john baptist. on examining it again, i have no doubt it is intended to denote the ascension of our lord. the right hand is raised as in the act of benediction, and, as far as i can make it out (for the paint is here somewhat rubbed), the fingers are in the position of benediction described by your correspondent. i do not, however, concur in his suggestions as to the meaning of the figures on the frame of the picture; which is not shaped as a _vesica piscis_, but is (as i described it) a lozenge. the female figure, holding a flaming heart, is, i would say, _certainly not_ the virgin mary. the appearance of my account of this picture in your pages has been the occasion of a very agreeable correspondence with the editor of the _navorscher_ (the dutch daughter of "n. & q."). that gentleman has taken a great interest in the subject, and has enabled me to decypher the mottoes on the scrolls which run across the three pictures on the right-hand wall of the room, which, in my former communication, i said i was unable to read. the scroll on the picture nearest the fireplace contains these words: "trouw moet blÿcken." that on the second picture, noticed by cuthbert bede, is, "liefde boven al." and the scroll on the third bears the inscription, as i stated in my former communication, "in liefd' getrouwe;" for so it ought to have been printed. these, as the editor of the _navorscher_ informs me, are the mottoes of three haarlem societies of rhetoricians called, . "de pelicaen," whose motto was, "_trouw moet blÿcken_:" . "de wyngaertrancken," whose motto was, "_liefde boven al_:" and, . "witte angiren," whose device was, "_in liefde getrouwe_." i think you are entitled to have whatever information i may glean respecting this picture, as you so kindly inserted my description of it in your columns; and i have to thank you for procuring me the acquaintance and correspondence of the editor of the _navorscher_. j. h. todd, d.d. trin. coll. dublin. * * * * * the reprint, in , of the first folio edition of shakspeare. (vol. vi., p. .) in reply to the query of varro, i beg to state that i possess the late mr. upcott's collation of the reprint of the first folio edition of shakspeare. it consists of twenty-six folio leaves, exclusive of the fly-leaves, on the first of which occur the following notes in the handwriting of the collator: "london institution, "moorfields, dec. , . "four months and twenty-three days were occupied, during my leisure moments, at the suggestion of our late librarian, professor porson, in reading and comparing the _pretended_ reprinted fac-simile _first_ edition of shakspeare with the original first edition of . with what _accuracy_ it passed through the press, the following pages, noticing typographical errors, will sufficiently show. wm. upcott." "ms. note written in mr. dawson turner's transcript of these errors in the reprint of shakspeare, edit. . "the contents of the following pages are the result of days' close attention by a very industrious man. the knowledge of such a task having been undertaken and completed, caused some alarm among the booksellers, who had expended a considerable sum of money upon the reprint of shakspeare, of which this ms. discloses the numerous errors. fearful, therefore, lest this should be published, they made many overtures for the purchase of it, and at length mr. upcott was induced to part with it to john and arthur arch, cornhill, from whom he expected a handsome remuneration; he received a single copy of the reprint, published at five guineas. "n.b. this copy, _corrected_ by myself from the above ms., i sold to james perry, proprietor of the _morning chronicle_, for six guineas: which at his sale (part iii.) produced l. s. d. wm. upcott." at the end of the volume is written: "finished this collation jan. , , at three minutes past o'clock. wm. upcott." upon comparing these remarks of mr. upcott with lowndes' _bibliographer's manual_, p. ., col. ., it will be seen that the latter was not accurately informed as to perry's copy; professor porson having had no farther share in that laborious work than the recommending mr. upcott to undertake the collation, from which perry's copy was subsequently corrected. f. c. b. * * * * * photographic notes and queries. _le grey and the collodion process._--as the claim to the invention of the collodion process is disputed, i think, in justice to mr. le grey, whom all will acknowledge as a talented man, and who has done much for photography, that the claims he puts forth, and which i give, should be known to your readers who have not got his work, as they are in direct contradiction to mr. archer's letter in your th no. in his last published work, page ., he states: "i was the first to apply collodion to photography. my first experiments were made in . i used that substance then principally to give more equality and { } fineness to the paper. i employed for that purpose a solution of iodide of potassium in alcohol of forty degrees saturated with collodion. "in continuing these studies i was induced to apply this body upon glass, to obtain more fineness, and i was soon in possession of an extremely rapid proceeding, _which i at last consigned to the pamphlet that i published in , and which was translated into english at the same time_. "i had already at that time indicated the protosulphate of iron for developing the image, the ammonia and the fluorides as accelerating agents; and i was the first to announce having obtained by these means portraits in five seconds in the shade. "the pyro-gallic acid is generally used now in place of the sulphate of iron that i had indicated; but this is wrong, that last salt forming the image much more rapidly and better, it having to be left less time in the camera. "i believe, then, i have a right to claim for my country and myself the invention of this would-be english process, _and of having been the first to indicate the collodion, and of giving the best method that has been discovered up to the present time_. "from the publication of my process, till my return from the voyage that i had made for the minister, i was little occupied in practising it, my labours on the dry paper having taken all my time. this has been used as a weapon against me, to make out that the first trials before setting out had been quite fruitless, as they had heard nothing more about it. "nevertheless, i have made my discovery completely public; and if i had practised it but little, leaving it to others to further develope, it has only been to occupy myself upon other works of which the public has still profited. it is then much more ungenerous to wish to take from me the merit of its invention." g. c. _ready mode of iodizing paper._--the readiest way i have found of iodizing the beautiful paper of canson frères, is the cyano-iodide of silver, made as follows: twenty grains of nitrate of silver may be placed in half an ounce of distilled water, and half an ounce of solution of iodide of potassa, fifty grains to the ounce, added to the silver solution. cyanide of potassa may then be added, drop by drop, till the precipitate is dissolved, and the whole filled up with four ounces of water. this solution requires but a very few minutes' floating upon water containing a small quantity of sulphuric acid; and it is then ready, after a bath of nitrate of silver, for the camera, and will not present any of the disagreeable spots so noticed by most photographers. this paper is probably the best for negative pictures we have at present; although, if very transparent paper is required, oiled paper may be used for negative pictures very successfully; or paper varnished is equally good. the oiled paper may be prepared as follows: take the best walnut oil, that oil having less tendency to darken paper of any other kind, and oil it thoroughly. it must then be hung up in the light for a few days, the longer the better, till quite dry. it may then be iodized with the ammonio-nitrate, the ammoniated solution passing more readily over greased surfaces. the varnished paper may be prepared by half an ounce of mastic varnish and three ounces of spirits of turpentine, hung up to dry, and treated as the oiled paper in iodizing; but both are better for resting a short time previous to iodizing upon water containing a little isinglass in solution, but used very sparingly. as i have experienced the excellence of these preparations, i hope they may be useful to your photographic students. weld taylor. bayswater. _after-dilution of solutions._--there are in general use two methods of preparing sensitive paper. in one, as in mr. talbot's, the iodide of silver is formed in a state of purity, before being rendered sensitive: and as, for this end, a small quantity only of nitrate of silver is necessary, a very dilute solution will answer the purpose as well, or even better, than a strong one; but by the other method, the paper being prepared with iodide of potassium only, or with some other analogous salt, the iodide of silver has to be formed by the same solution that renders it sensitive. now as for every . parts of iodide of potassium . parts of nitrate of silver are required for this purpose, it is evident that a dilute solution could not be employed unless a very large bulk were taken, and the paper kept in a considerable time. the after-washing is to remove from the surface of the paper the great excess of silver, which is of but little service, and prevents the paper from keeping. william crookes. hammersmith. _stereoscopic pictures from one camera._--your correspondent ramus will easily obtain stereoscopic pictures by either of the following plans:--after the first picture is taken, move the subject, as on a pivot, either to the right or left, through an angle of about °; then take the second impression: this will do very well for an inanimate object, as a statue; but, if a portrait is required, the camera, after taking the first picture, must be moved either to the right or left, a distance of not more than one-fifth of the distance it stands from the sitter; that is, if the camera is twenty feet from the face of the sitter, the distance between its first and second position should not exceed four feet, otherwise the picture will appear distorted, and the stereosity unnaturally great. of course it is absolutely necessary in this plan that the sitter do not move his position between the taking of the two impressions, and also that the distance between him and the camera be the same in both operations. { } in reply to the very sensible inquiry of simplicitas, there is an essential difference between the calotype of talbot and the waxed-paper process, the picture in the first being almost entirely superficial, whilst in the latter it is much more in the body of the paper; this causes the modification of the treatment. a _tolerably-strong_ solution of (a_ o no_ ) nitrate of silver is required to decompose the (ki) iodide of potassium, with which the paper is _saturated_, in any reasonable time, but if this were allowed to dry on the surface, stains would be the inevitable result; therefore it is floated in distilled water, to remove this from the _surface_; and it seems to me that the keeping of the paper depends on the greater or less extent to which this surface-coating is removed. there can be no doubt that the paper would be far more sensitive, if used immediately, without the washing, simply blotting it off; but then the great advantage of the process would be lost, viz. its capability of being kept. william pumphrey. _camera for out-door operations._--i should be glad to see a clear description of a camera so constructed as to supersede the necessity for a dark room. such a description has been promised by dr. diamond (vol. vi., p. .); and if he could be induced to furnish it at an early period, i at least, amongst the readers of "n. & q.," should feel much additionally indebted to him. e. s. * * * * * "'twas on the morn." (vol. vi., p. .) this is a very celebrated gloucestershire ballad, which though at one time popular, is, i believe, rarely heard now. i have before me an old and much mutilated broadside of it, which, at the conclusion, has the initials "l. & b." i presume the words are wanted, and therefore send them; and not knowing whether the tune has been published, will also forward it, if wished for by your querist. . "'twas on the morn of sweet may-day, when nature painted all things gay, taught birds to sing, and lambs to play, and gild the meadows fair; young jockey, early in the morn, arose and tript across the lawn; his sunday clothes the youth put on, for jenny had vow'd away to run with jockey to the fair. for jenny had vow'd away to run with jockey to the fair. . the cheerful parish bells had rung, with eager steps he trudg'd along, while rosy garlands round him hung, which shepherds us'd to wear; he tapt the window: 'haste, my dear;' jenny impatient cry'd, 'who's there?' ''tis i, my love, and no one near; step gently down, you've nought to fear, with jockey to the fair.' step gently, &c. . 'my dad and mammy's fast asleep, my brother's up, and with the sheep; and will you still your promise keep, which i have heard you swear? and will you ever constant prove?' 'i will, by all the powers above, and ne'er deceive my charming dove. dispel those doubts, and haste, my love, with jockey to the fair.' dispel, &c. . 'behold the ring,' the shepherd cry'd; 'will jenny be my charming bride? let cupid be our happy guide, and hymen meet us there.' then jockey did his vows renew; he would be constant, would be true. his word was pledg'd; away she flew, with cowslips tipt with balmy dew, with jockey to the fair. with cowslips, &c. . in raptures meet the joyful train; their gay companions, blithe and young, each join the dance, each join the throng, to hail the happy pair. in turns there's none so fond as they, they bless the kind, propitious day, the smiling morn of blooming may, when lovely jenny ran away with jockey to the fair. when lovely, &c. h. g. d. * * * * * alleged reduction of english subjects to slavery. (vol. v., p. .) the crime imputed to the dutch authorities (that of reducing english subjects to slavery) is of so atrocious a character, that any explanation that should place the matter in a less offensive light, would be but an act of justice to the parties implicated. with this view i venture to submit to ursula and w. w. the following conclusions which i have arrived at, after a careful consideration of all the circumstances. i am of opinion that the writer of the letter in question (charging the dutch governor with the above mentioned offence) was the officer commanding the troops in the english division of st. christopher; and, in that capacity, invested with the civil government. at that period, the { } administration of our west indian possessions was generally confided to the military commandants: our policy, in that respect, being different from that of the french, who have contrived at all times to maintain, in each of their colonies, an uninterrupted succession of governors appointed from home. the name of the dutch governor of st. martin, to whom the letter was addressed, has not been ascertained. he was probably some buccaneering chief, who cared as little for the states-general as he did for the governor of st. christopher. if not actually engaged in the piratical enterprises of his countrymen, he certainly had no objection to receive, according to usage, the lion's share of the booty as a reward for his connivance. it is very doubtful whether the outrage imputed, in this instance, to the dutch governor, was perpetrated, or even attempted. the buccaneers, english, french, and dutch, began by uniting their efforts against the spaniards. after a time they "fell out" (as thieves will sometimes do), and, turning from the common enemy, they directed their marauding operations against each other. it was doubtless during one of these that the dutch captured the english ship in question; detaining the passengers and crew at st. martin, in the hope of extorting some considerable ransom for their release. when, therefore, the english governor threatened to complain to the states-general of the "reduction to slavery of english subjects," we must presume that, by the words "reducing to slavery," he meant to describe the forcible _detention_ of the passengers and crew; and that, in doing so, he merely resorted to the expedient of magnifying a common act of piracy into an outrage of a more heinous character, with the view of frightening the dutch authorities into a compliance with his wishes, and obtaining the restitution of the property and subjects of his "dread sovereigne lord y^e king." the annals of that period are replete with similar adventures; and labat relates several of them which he witnessed during a voyage to guadaloupe in a vessel belonging to the french buccaneers. as to the english, the daring exploits of sir henry morgan and his followers, and the encouragement which they received, both at home and in the colonies, show that _we_ were not behind our neighbours in those days of marauding notoriety. henry h. breen. st. lucia. * * * * * replies to minor queries. _royal assent, &c._ (vol. vi., p. .).-- . no such forms as those referred to by clarendon are usual now. . the last time the prerogative of rejecting a bill, after passing both houses of parliament, was exercised, was in , when william iii. refused his assent to the bill for triennial parliaments. two years after, however, he was induced to allow the bill to become the law of the land. j. r. w. bristol. _can bishops vacate their sees?_ (vol. v., p. .).--r. c. c., in his reply to this query of k. s., writes, that he has never heard of any but dr. pearce who wished so to do. there is another instance in the case of berkeley, bishop of cloyne, who, having failed in his attempt to exchange his bishopric for some canonry or headship at oxford, applied to the secretary of state for his majesty's permission to resign his bishopric. so extraordinary a petition excited his majesty's curiosity, and caused his inquiry from whence it came; when, learning that the person was his old acquaintance, dr. berkeley, he declared that he should die a bishop in spite of himself, but gave him full power to choose his own place of residence. this was in . the above is taken from bp. mant's _history of the church of ireland_, vol. ii. p. . rubi. _"genealogies of the mordaunt family," by the earl of peterborough_ (vol. vi., p. .).--bridges, in his _history of northamptonshire_, vol. ii. p. ., states that twenty-four copies of the work were printed. there is a large paper copy of the work, in the library at drayton house, the former seat of the mordaunts, now the property of w.b. stopford, esq. j. b. _niágara, or niagára?_ (vol. vi., p. .).--an enthusiastic person, of the name of pemberton (who had spent much time at the falls, and was so enthusiastic in his admiration of them that he protested he _could not_ keep away from them, and went back and died there), informed me that the proper name was _ni-ágara_ or _aghera_,--two indian words signifying "hark to the thunder." j. g. _maudlin_ (vol. vi., p. .).--your massachusetts correspondent comes a long way for information which he might surely have obtained on his own side of the atlantic. dr. johnson says, "_maudlin_ is the corrupt appellation of _magdalen_, who is drawn by painters with swollen eyes and disordered look." and do we not know that magdalene college is always called _maudlin_, and that _madeleine_ is the french orthography? very closely resembling our vernacular pronunciation? j. g. _spiritual persons employed in lay offices_ (vol. vi., pp. . .).--your correspondents w. and e. h. a. seem to have overlooked the modern instances of this practice, which the _london gazette_ has recently recorded, in { } announcing the appointment of several clergymen as deputy-lieutenants. this is an office which is so far of a military character, that it is supposed to place the holder in the rank of lieutenant-colonel, and certainly entitles him to wear a military uniform. if these members of the "church militant" should be presented at her majesty's court in their new appointment, will they appear in their clerical or military habit? [omega]. [phi]. _passage in burke_ (vol. vi., p. .).--the reply to quando tandem's query is given, i imagine, by burke himself, in a passage which occurs only a few lines after that which has been quoted: "little did i dream that she should ever be obliged to carry the sharp antidote against disgrace concealed in that bosom." this means, i suppose, that marie antoinette carried a dagger, with which, _more romano_, she would have committed suicide, had her brutal persecutors assaulted her. alfred gatty. _ensake and cradock arms_ (vol. vi., p. .).--in a pedigree of the family of barnwell, of cransley in northamptonshire, now before me, i find emblazoned the arms of ensake: paly of six azure and or, on a bend sable three mullets pierced. cradock: argent, three boars' heads couped sable armed or. g. a. c. _sich house_ (vol. vi., pp. . .).--_sike_ or _syke_, a word in common use in the south of scotland, and on the border, meaning a small water run. in jamieson's _dictionary_ it is spelt "_sike_, _syik_, _syk_, a rill or rivulet; one that is usually dry in summer; a small stream or rill; a marshy bottom with a small stream in it." j. s.s. _americanisms so called_ (vol. vi., p. .).--the word _bottom_, signifying a piece of low ground, whether _upon_ a stream of water or not, is english. i recollect two places at this moment (both dry), in the county of surrey, to which the word is applied, viz. smitham bottom, to the north of reigate, through which the railway runs; and boxhill bottom, a few miles to the westward, in the same range of chalk hills. _sparse_ and _sparsely_, it is said by uneda of philadelphia, _are_ americanisms. this, however, is not so. there is a query on the word _sparse_ in vol. i., p. . by c. forbes: and on p. . of the same volume j. t. stanley supposes it to be an americanism, on the authority of the _penny cyclopædia_. i have a strong conviction that i then wrote to "n. & q." to claim the word _sparse_ as aboriginal to the british isles, for i find memoranda i had made at the time on the margin of my jamieson's _dictionary_ on the subject; but i do not find that what i then wrote had been printed in "n. & q." in the _supplement to jamieson's dictionary_ is the following: "spars, sparse, _adj._ widely spread; as, 'sparse writing' is wide open writing, occupying a large space." the word is in common use throughout the south of scotland. i have come to be of opinion that there are few, if any, words that are real americanisms, but that (except where the substance or the subject is quite modern) almost every word and expression now in use among the anglo-americans may be traced to some one of the old provincial dialects of the british isles. j. s.s. _the folger family_ (vol. vi., p. .).--i do not know whether there are any of that name in wales, but there was a family of that name near tregony in cornwall some years ago, and may be now. i am not quite certain whether they spell it folger or fulger, but rather think the latter was the mode of spelling it. s. jennings-g. _wake family_ (vol. vi., p. .).--the rev. robert wake was vicar of ogbourne, st. andrew, wilts, from to , n.s., during which time he had these children:--thomas, born the th of july, , and baptized on the th of the same month; elizabeth and anne, both baptized on the th of july, . arthur r. carter. camden town. _shakspeare's "twelfth night"_ (vol. vi., p. .).--agreeing with mr. singer in his doubts regarding the propriety of changing the word _case_ into _face_, in the line,-- "when time hath sow'd a grizzle on thy _case_"-- i would instance a passage in _measure for measure_, where angelo says-- "o place! o form! how often dost thou with thy _case_, thy habit, wrench awe from fools," &c. w. c. _electrical phenomena_ (vol. vi., p. .).--the case recorded by adsum is not at all an infrequent one, and the phenomena alluded to have been noticed for a very long period, and are of very common occurrence in dry states of the atmosphere. the following, from daniel's _introduction to chemical philosophy_ (a most useful work for general readers), will probably explain all that adsum is desirous of knowing: "it was first observed by otto de guericke and hawsbee, that the friction of glass and resinous substances not only produced the phenomena which we have just described (those of vitreous and resinous electricity), but, under favourable circumstances, was accompanied by a rustling or crackling noise; and, when the experiment was made in a dark room, by flashes and sparks of light upon their surfaces. when once the attention has been directed to the observation, { } most persons will find that such phenomena of electrical light are familiar occurrences, and often present themselves in suddenly drawing off from the person a silk stocking, or a flannel waistcoat, or in the _friction of long hair by combing_. how small a degree of friction is sufficient to excite electricity in the human body, is shown in a striking way by placing a person upon an insulating stool (with glass legs). if in such a position he place his finger upon a gold-leaf electrometer, and another person flip him lightly with a silk handkerchief, the leaves will immediately repel each other" (resinous electricity has been excited).--page . par. . s. jennings-g. _daubuz family_ (vol. vi., p. .).--where are the descendants of this worthy family (daubuz)? it may possibly give mr. corser a clue to the information he desires, if i tell him that there is a very respectable family of that name in cornwall. one lives in the neighbourhood of truro, and a brother is vicar of creed, near grampound, cornwall. the father of these gentlemen was the first of the family, i believe, who resided in cornwall, where he amassed a large fortune from his connexion with mining speculations. s. jennings-g. _lord nelson_ (vol. vi., p. .).--i am obliged to mr. kersley for giving me an opportunity of reconciling my statement respecting dr. scott (vol. vi., p. .) with the inscription on mr. burke's monument. both, i believe, are true. i quote from the _authentic narrative of the death of lord nelson_, by william beatty, m.d. &c. the copy of this work which is before me has the following in sir w. beatty's own handwriting: "to the rev. doctor scott, with every sentiment of regard, by his friend and messmate, the author." in this "narrative," dr. scott and mr. burke are generally described as personally attending on lord nelson from the time of his being brought down into the cockpit. and at p. . it is said: "doctor scott and mr. burke, who had all along sustained the bed under his shoulders," &c.: and again at p. . "his lordship breathed his last at thirty minutes past four o'clock: at which period dr. scott was in the act of rubbing his lordship's breast, and mr. burke supporting the bed under his shoulders." all this is represented in west's beautiful picture, which hangs, in a bad light, in the hall of greenwich hospital. there is another claimant for the honour of having been nelson's last nurse, whose name i forget. his pretensions are recorded on a tablet to his memory in the chapel of greenwich hospital. dr. scott's daughter, who was with me there one day, remonstrated on the subject with old blue jacket who lionised us. and i put in the lady's right to speak with some authority. but "what is writ is writ," was enough for our guide: we could make nothing of him, for he fought our arguments as if they had been so many guns of the enemy. alfred gatty. _robes and fees in the days of robin hood_ (vol. vi., p. .).--in translating the ordinances and statutes against maintainers and conspirators, mr. lewellyn curtis more than once translates "gentz de _pais_," by "persons of _peace_." this is a material error: it should be "_of the country_;" "pays," not "paix." for the subject referred to, mr. foss's _judges of england_, vol. iii., should be consulted. j. bt. _wray_ (vol. iv., p. .).--in one of the wray pedigrees in burke's _landed gentry_, it is stated that the yorkshire family of that name originally resided in coverdale in richmondshire. in clarkson's _history of richmond_ is a pedigree of the "wrays," which commences (if i rightly recollect) with an ancestor (six or eight years before him) of sir christopher wray, of whose fore-elders, some lived at st. nicholas, near to richmond. i have traced a family of the name of _wray_ or _wraye_ for three centuries back, in wensleydale, and at coverham in coverdale (both in richmondshire), but am unable to connect it by direct evidence with either of the pedigrees above referred to; and should be much obliged for any information touching any part of the family in richmondshire, particularly such as might aid in showing the relation of the several branches to one another. with reference to the origin of the name, i may mention, that there is a valley called raydale, between wensleydale and craven, adjacent to coverdale and also a village in westmoreland, near to the western extremity of wensleydale, called _wray_ or _ray_. the arms of the wensleydale wrays are: azure, a chevron ermine between three helmets proper on a chief or, three martlets gules; crest a martlet, and motto "servabo fidem." i am informed that there is to be found, in the heralds' college, an entry of a _wray_ pedigree with these arms; and i should be glad to have particulars of such entry. the motto of the st. nicholas family is, to the best of my recollection, "et juste et vraye:" a canting motto, as is that of pak-rae. calcutta. _irish rhymes_ (vol. vi., pp. . . .).--for the benefit of irishmen, i beg to adduce shakspeare as a writer of _irish rhymes_. in that exquisite little song called for by queen catharine, "to soothe her soul grown sad with troubles," we have: "everything that heard him _play_, even the billows of the _sea_." w. c. { } * * * * * miscellaneous. notes on books, etc. we have received a copy of _notes and emendations on the text of shakspeare's plays from early manuscript corrections in a copy of the folio in the possession of j. payne collier, esq., f.s.a., forming a supplemental volume to the works of shakspeare, by the same editor, in eight volumes, vo._ with the nature of this volume the readers of "n. & q." are already so fully acquainted, from the frequent references which have been made to it in these columns, that on this occasion we feel that we need do little more than record its publication, and the fact that it appears to be edited with the same scrupulous care, for which all works which appeared under the superintendence of mr. collier are invariably distinguished. that all the critics will agree either with the ms. corrections, or with mr. collier in his estimate of the value of the emendations, is not to be expected; but all will acknowledge that he has done good service to shakspearian literature by their publication. "the new year," observes _the athenæum_, "opens with some announcements of promise in our own literary world. mr. bentley announces the memorials and correspondence of charles james fox, on which the late lord holland was understood to be so long engaged. the work, however, is now to be edited by lord john russell, and to extend to two volumes octavo. the same publisher promises a history, in one large volume, of 'the administration of the east india company,' by mr. kaye, author of the 'history of the war in affghanistan;' and a 'history (in two volumes octavo) of the colonial policy of the british empire from to ,' by the present earl grey.--the fifth and concluding volume of 'the letters of the earl of chesterfield,' including some new letters now first published from the original mss., under the editorship, as before, of lord mahon, will, we believe, shortly appear.--two volumes of 'letters of the poet gray,' so often announced by mr. bentley, are to come out at last during the present season. they will be edited by the rev. j. mitford, author of 'the life of gray.'--nor is mr. murray without his usual attractive bill of fare for the literary appetite. the lowe papers, left in a mass of confusion at the death of sir harris nicolas, are now nearly ready; and the st. helena life of napoleon will appear, it is said, for the first time, as far as sir hudson lowe is concerned, in its true light. the castlereagh papers (now in mr. murray's hands) will include matter of moment connected with the congress of vienna, the battle of waterloo, and the occupation of paris. the same publisher announces the speeches of the duke of wellington (to which we called attention some time back):--also a work by mr. george campbell, called 'india as it may be,'--and another by captain elphinstone erskine about the western pacific and feejee islands.--the messrs. longman announce a private life of daniel webster, by his late private secretary, mr. charles lanman--and a new work by signor mariotti, 'an historical memoir of fra dolcino and his times.'--mr. bohn will have ready in a few days 'yule-tide legends,' a collection of scandinavian tales and tradition, edited by b. thorpe, esq.--messrs. hurst and blackett--whose names now take the place of mr. colburn's, as his successors--are about to publish memoirs of the court and cabinets of george the third, to be compiled from original family documents by the duke of buckingham and chandos." we need scarcely remind the fellows of the society of antiquaries who may have in their minds suggestions for the improvement of the society, how desirable it is that they should bring those suggestions at once under the consideration of the committee just appointed. we are sure that all such as are submitted to mr. hawkins and his colleagues will receive every attention; and we trust that the committee will at once proceed to their task, so that the society may have time to well consider their report before the anniversary in april. books received.--_dictionary of greek and roman geography, by various writers_. edited by william smith. part v. the new issue of this most useful work extends from _campi raudii_ to _cimolus_.--_cyclopædia bibliographica, a library manual of theological and general literature, analytical, bibliographical, and biographical._ part iv. of this useful guide for authors, preachers, students, and literary men, extends from henry bull to isaac chauncy.--_the journal of sacred literature._ new series. edited by dr. kitto. no. vi.--_swift and richardson_, by lord jeffrey, is the new number of longman's _traveller's library_.--_the goose girl at the well_, &c., completes the interesting collection of grimm's _household stories_.--_the shakspeare repository_ is the first number of a work especially devoted to shakspeare, containing a great variety of matter illustrative of his life and writings, by j. h. fennell.--_the chess player's chronicle_, the first number of which professes and appears to be an improved series of this indispensable chess player's companion. * * * * * books and odd volumes wanted to purchase. lud. guicciardini's descrip. belgii. rastall's exposition of words. the gentleman's magazine for january . ben jonson's works. (london, . vols.) vol. ii. wanted. the pursuit of knowledge. (original edition.) vol. i. rapin's history of england, vo. vols. i., iii. and v. of the continuation by tindal. . sharpe's prose writers. vol. iv. vols. . piccadilly. inchbald's british theatre. vol. xxiv. vols. longman. meyrick's ancient armour, by skelton. part xvi. donne, [greek: biathanatos], to. first edition, . ------ ------ ------ second edition, . ---- pseudo-martyr. to. ---- paradoxes, problems, and essays, &c. mo. . ---- essays in divinity. mo. . ---- sermons on isaiah l. . pope's works, by warton. vol. ix. . in boards. percy society publications. no. . three copies. memoirs of the duchess of abrantes. (translation.) vols. vo. bentley. poems of "alasdair mac mhaighstir alasdair" macdonald. { } smith's collectanea antiqua. vols. vo.; or vol. i. brewster's memoir of rev. hugh moises, m.a., master of newcastle grammar school. religio militis; or christianity for the camp. longmans, . *** _correspondents sending lists of books wanted are requested to send their names._ *** letters, stating particulars and lowest price, _carriage free_, to be sent to mr. bell, publisher of "notes and queries," . fleet street. * * * * * notices to correspondents. notices to correspondents.--_in our early numbers we inserted an address to correspondents, in which we observed, "correspondents will see, on a very little reflection, that it is plainly the editor's interest to take all he can get, and make the most and the best of everything; and therefore he begs them to take for granted that their communications are received and appreciated, even if the succeeding numbers bear no proof of it. he is convinced that the want of specific acknowledgment will only be felt by those who have no idea of the labour and difficulty attendant on the hurried management of such a work, and of the impossibility of sometimes giving an explanation, when there really is one which would quite satisfy the writer, for the delay or non-insertion of his communication. correspondents in such cases have no reason, and, if they understood an editor's position, they would feel that they have no right, to consider themselves undervalued: but nothing short of personal experience in editorship would explain to them the perplexities and evil consequences arising from the opposite course." we have thought well to repeat this general explanation because we have this week received two inquiries respecting the non-insertion of communications, neither party giving us his name nor the subject of the non-inserted communication._ h. h. h.'s (ashburton) _letter has been forwarded to_ dr. diamond. _it is not the first by many which we have received expressive of the writer's thanks for his valuable photographic papers._ alpha _complains in so generous a spirit that we regret we cannot agree with him. we assure him that, on the first point on which he writes, he is the only one who has so written, while we have had dozens of letters of thanks; and he will see in the present no._ (antè, p. .) _the value of the art recognised by a gentleman under whose notice it would probably never have been brought in a purely scientific journal. the second suggestion is one to which we, and many of our brethren of the press, have turned our attention frequently, but hitherto unsuccessfully. the difficulties are greater than alpha imagines._ t. w. u. keye. _will our correspondent favour us with particulars?_ enquirer _cannot do better than follow the directions for the paper process given by_ dr. diamond _in our last number. we hope soon to be able to give him satisfactory information on the other points of his communication_. the index and title-page _to our sixth volume will be ready for delivery on saturday next_. _a neat case for holding the numbers of_ "notes and queries," _until the completion of each volume, is now ready, price_ s. d., _and may be had, by order, of all booksellers and newsmen_. erratum. _in the number of last week the passage from the septuagint quoted at_ p. . _ought to have stood thus_: "[greek: gegraptai de, auton palin agastêsesthai meth' hôn ho kurios anistêsin]."--cambridge edition of . * * * * * western life assurance and annuity society, . parliament street, london. founded a.d. . _directors._ h. edgeworth bicknell, esq. william cabell, esq. t. somers cocks, jun. esq. m.p. g. henry drew, esq. william evans, esq. william freeman, esq. f. fuller, esq. j. henry goodhart, esq. t. grissell, esq. james hunt, esq. j. arscott lethbridge, esq. e. lucas, esq. james lys seager, esq. j. basley white, esq. joseph carter wood, esq. _trustees._ w. whateley, esq., q.c.; l. c. humfrey, esq., q.c.; george drew, esq. _consulting counsel._--sir wm. p. wood, m.p. _physician._--william rich. basham, m.d. _bankers._--messrs. cocks, biddulph, and co., charing cross. valuable privilege. policies effected in this office do not become void through temporary difficulty in paying a premium, as permission is given upon application to suspend the payment at interest, according to the conditions detailed on the prospectus. specimens of rates of premium for assuring l., with a share in three-fourths of the profits:-- age £ s. d. arthur scratchley, m.a., f.r.a.s., actuary. now ready, price s. d., second edition, with material additions, industrial investment and emigration: being a treatise on benefit building societies, and on the general principles of land investment, exemplified in the cases of freehold land societies, building companies, &c. with a mathematical appendix on compound interest and life assurance. by arthur scratchley, m.a., actuary to the western life assurance society, . parliament street, london. * * * * * shakspeare society. mr. payne collier's volume of notes and emendations on the text of shakspeare, derived from the unpublished and highly important manuscript corrections, made by a cotemporary, in the folio edition of , will be ready on the th instant for delivery to the subscribers who have paid their subscription for the year ending december, , at the agents', mr. skeffington, . piccadilly. f. g. tomlins, secretary. * * * * * ralph's sermon paper,--this approved paper is particularly deserving the notice of the clergy, as, from its particular form (each page measuring ¾ by inches), it will contain more matter than the size in ordinary use, and, from the width being narrower, is much more easy to read: adapted for expeditious writing with either the quill or metallic pen; price s. per ream. sample on application. envelope paper.--to identify the contents with the address and postmark, important in all business communications; it admits of three clear pages (each measuring ½ by inches), for correspondence, it saves time and is more economical. price s. d. per ream. f. w. ralph, manufacturing stationer, . throgmorton street, bank. * * * * * bennett's model watch, as shown at the great exhibition, no. . class x., in gold and silver cases, in five qualities, and adapted to all climates, may now be had at the manufactory, . cheapside. superior gold london-made patent levers, , , and guineas. ditto, in silver cases, , , and guineas. first-rate geneva levers, in gold cases, , , and guineas. ditto in silver cases, , , and guineas. superior lever, with chronometer balance, gold, , , and guineas. bennett's pocket chronometer, gold, guineas; silver, guineas. every watch skilfully examined, timed, and its performance guaranteed. barometers, l., l., and l. thermometers from s. each. bennett, watch, clock, and instrument maker to the royal observatory, the board of ordnance, the admiralty, and the queen, . cheapside. * * * * * foolscap vo. price s. the practical working of the church of spain. by the rev. frederick meyrick, m.a., fellow of trinity college, oxford. "pleasant meadows, happy peasants, all holy monks, all holy priests, holy every body. such charity and such unity, when every man was a catholic. i once believed in this utopia myself, but when tested by stern facts, it all melts away like dream."--_a. welby pugin._ "the revelations made by such writers as mr. meyrick in spain and mr. gladstone in italy, have at least vindicated for the church of england a providential and morally defined position, mission, and purpose in the catholic church."--_morning chronicle._ "two valuable works ... to the truthfulness of which we are glad to add our own testimony: one, and the most important, is mr. meyrick's 'practical working of the church of spain.' this is the experience--and it is the experience of every spanish traveller--of a thoughtful person, as to the lamentable results of unchecked romanism. here is the solid substantial fact. spain is divided between ultra-infidelity and what is so closely akin to actual idolatry, that it can only be controversially, not practically, distinguished from it: and over all hangs a lurid cloud of systematic immorality, simply frightful to contemplate. we can offer a direct, and even personal, testimony to all that mr. meyrick has to say."--_christian remembrancer._ "i wish to recommend it strongly."--_t. k. arnold's theological critic._ "many passing travellers have thrown more or less light upon the state of romanism and christianity in spain, according to their objects and opportunities; but we suspect these 'workings' are the fullest, the most natural, and the most trustworthy, of anything that has appeared upon the subject since the time of blanco white's confessions."--_spectator._ "this honest exposition of the practical working of romanism in spain, of its everyday effects, not its canons and theories, deserves the careful study of all, who, unable to test the question abroad, are dazzled by the distant mirage with which the vatican mocks many a yearning soul that thirsts after water-brooks pure and full."--_literary gazette._ john henry parker, oxford; and . strand, london. * * * * * { } to photographers.--mr. philip delamotte begs to announce that he has now made arrangements for printing calotypes in large or small quantities, either from paper or glass negatives. gentlemen who are desirous of having good impressions of their works, may see specimens of mr. delamotte's printing at his own residence, . chepstow place, bayswater, or at mr. george bell's, . fleet street. * * * * * photographic paper.--negative and positive papers of whatman's, turner's, sanford's, and canson frères' make. waxed-paper for le grey's process. iodized and sensitive paper for every kind of photography. sold by john sanford, photographic stationer, aldine chambers, . paternoster row, london. * * * * * just published, price s., free by post s. d., the waxed-paper photographic process of gustave le grey. new edition. translated from the last edition of the french. george knight & sons., foster lane, london, manufacturers of photographic apparatus and materials, consisting of camera, stands, coating boxes, pressure frames, glass and porcelain dishes, &c., and pure photographic chemicals, suited for practising the daguerreotype, talbotype, waxed-paper, albumen and collodion processes, adapted to stand any climate, and fitted for the requirements of the tourist or professional artist. sole agents in the united kingdom for voightlander & son's celebrated lenses for portraits and views. general depôt for turner's, whatman's, canson frères', la croix, and other talbotype papers. instructions and specimens in every branch of the art. * * * * * photography.--a new work, giving plain and practical directions for obtaining both positive and negative pictures upon glass, by means of the collodion process, and a method for printing from the negative glasses, in various colours, on to paper. by t. h. hennah. price s., or by post, s. d. published by delatouche & co., manufacturers of pure photographic chemicals, apparatus, prepared papers, and every article connected with photography on paper or glass. * * * * * ross's photographic portrait and landscape lenses.--these lenses give correct definition at the centre and margin of the picture, and have their visual and chemical acting foci coincident. _great exhibition jurors' report_, p. . "mr. ross prepares lenses for portraiture having the greatest intensity yet produced, by procuring the coincidence of the chemical actinic and visual rays. the spherical aberration is also very carefully correct, both in the central and oblique pencils." "mr. ross has exhibited the best camera in the exhibition. it is furnished with a double achromatic object-lens, about three inches aperture. there is no stop, the field is flat, and the image very perfect up to the edge." a. r. invites those interested in the art to inspect the large photographs of vienna, produced by his lenses and apparatus. catalogues sent upon application. a. ross, . featherstone buildings, high holborn. * * * * * volume i. of the re-issue of lives of the queens of england, by agnes strickland, comprising all the recent important additions, portraits of all the queens, &c., is published this day, to be completed in eight monthly volumes vo., price s. d. each, handsomely bound. published for henry colburn, by his successors, hurst & blackett, . great marlborough street. * * * * * just published, vol. vo., price s. ancient irish minstrelsy, by rev. w. hamilton drummond, d.d., m.r.s.a. "a graceful addition to the lover of ancient minstrelsy, whether he be irishman or not. a man need not be english to enjoy the chevy chace, nor scotch to value the border minstrelsy. the extracts we have given from dr. drummond's work, so full of force and beauty, will satisfy him, we trust, he need not be irish to enjoy the fruits of dr. d.'s labours."--_the dublin advocate._ dublin: hodges & smith, grafton street. london: simpkin, marshall, & co., . stationers' hall court. * * * * * photographic pictures.--a selection of the above beautiful productions may be seen at bland & long's, . fleet street, where may also be procured apparatus of every description, and pure chemicals for the practice of photography in all its branches. calotype, daguerreotype, and glass pictures for the stereoscope. bland & long, opticians, philosophical and photographical instrument makers, and operative chemists, . fleet street. * * * * * photographic chemicals of absolute purity, especially prepared for this art, may be procured from r. w. thomas, operative chemist, . pall mall, whose well-known preparation of xylo-iodide of silver is pronounced by the most eminent scientific men of the day to excel every other photographic compound in sensitiveness, and in the marvellous vigour uniformly preserved in the middle tints of pictures produced by it. mr. r. w. thomas cautions photographers against unprincipled persons who (from the fact of xyloidin and collodion being synonymous terms) would lead them to imagine that the inferior compound sold by them at half the price is identical with his preparation. in some cases, even the name of mr. t.'s xylo-iodide of silver has been assumed. in order to prevent such dishonourable practice, each bottle sent from his establishment is stamped with a red label bearing his signature, to counterfeit which is felony. prepared solely by r. w. thomas, chemist, &c., . pall mall. * * * * * photography.--collodion (iodized with the ammonio-iodide of silver).--j. b. hockin & co., chemists, . strand, were the first in england who published the application of this agent (see _athenæum_, aug. th). their collodion (price d. per oz.) retains its extraordinary sensitiveness, tenacity, and colour unimpaired for months: it may be exported to any climate, and the iodizing compound mixed as required. j. b. hockin & co. manufacture pure chemicals and all apparatus with the latest improvements adapted for all the photographic and daguerreotype processes. cameras for developing in the open country. glass baths adapted to any camera. lenses from the best makers. waxed and iodized papers, &c. * * * * * the gentleman's magazine for january , which is the first number of a new volume, contains the following articles:-- . king charles i. in the isle of wight. . original letters of benjamin franklin. . farinelli and pompadour. . henry newcome, the manchester puritan. . a journey to paris in . . the cloister life of charles v. . the hill intrenchments on the borders of wales, by t. wright, f.s.a. (with engravings). . report of the cambridge university commission. . correspondence of sylvanus urban:-- . pictures of the immaculate conception. . the relic of st. mary axe. . harley church, salop. . etymology of the word many. with notes of the month, reviews of new publications, historical chronicle, and obituary, including memoirs of the earl of shrewsbury, countess of lovelace, sir j. j. guest, miss berry, professor empson, mr. serjeant halcomb, &c. &c. a specimen number sent on the receipt of s. d. in postage stamps. nicols & son, . parliament street. * * * * * valuable books, cheap.-- . kramer's strabo, vols. vo., best ed., - . s. . adelung's mithridates, vols. vo., - , s. . sismondi, histoire des français, vols. vo., complete, - , l. s. . carr's glossary of the craven dialect in yorkshire, vols. vo., , cloth, s. . goethe's werke, vols. in , mo., stuttgart, , l. s. . oliphant's musa madrigalesca, a collection of madrigals, ballets, of the elizabethan age, vo., , cloth, s. . müller's ancient art and its remains, a manual of the archæology of art, best edition, vo., (published at s.), cloth, s. . ulphila's gothic text, with grammar and vocabulary, vols. in , royal vo., passau, , hf.-morocco, s. d. . rask's anglo-saxon grammar, vo., , hlf.-calf, s. . müller, collectanea anglo-saxonica, cum vocabulario, mo., , hf. bound, s. d. . poèmes des bardes bretons du vi. s. in breton and french, by villemarqué, vo., , pp. s. . fables de lokman, par cherbonneau, in arabic, and two french translations, with the pronunciation, mo., , s. . armorial universel par curmer, vols. impl. vo., - , numerous coats of arms, some emblazoned, s. . legonidec, dictionnare celto-breton et français, vols. to., best edition, complete, with the grammar, st. brieux, - , sd. s. . tesoro de los romanceros y cancioneros espanoles, to., barcelona, , sd. s. sold by bernard quaritch, . castle street, leicester square. *** b. quaritch's catalogue of oriental books and manuscripts, comprising the valuable libraries of the rev. w. morton of calcutta, and of the late earl mount norris of arley castle, staffs., is just published, and may be had gratis. * * * * * kerr & strang, perfumers and wig-makers, . leadenhall street, london, respectfully inform the nobility and public that they have invented and brought to the greatest perfection the following leading articles, besides numerous others:--their ventilating natural curl; ladies and gentlemen's perukes, either crops or full dress, with partings and crowns so natural as to defy detection, and with or without their improved metallic springs; ventilating fronts, bandeaux, borders, nattes, bands à la reine, &c.; also their instantaneous liquid hair dye, the only dye that really answers for all colours, and never fades nor acquires that unnatural red or purple tint common to all other dyes; it is permanent, free of any smell, and perfectly harmless. any lady or gentleman, sceptical of its effects in dyeing any shade of colour, can have it applied, free of any charge, at kerr & strang's, . leadenhall street. sold in cases at s. d., s., and s. samples, s. d., sent to all parts on receipt of post-office order or stamps. * * * * * { } now ready, in seven volumes, medium to., cloth, pp. , , price fourteen guineas, the annals of ireland; from the original of the four masters, from the earliest historic period to the conclusion in ; consisting of the irish text from the original mss., and an english translation, with copious explanatory notes, an index of names, and an index of places, by john o'donovan, esq., ll.d., barrister at law; professor of the celtic language, queen's college, belfast. _extract from the_ dublin review. "we can but hope, within the limited space at our disposal, to render a scanty and imperfect measure of justice to a work of such vast extent and varied erudition.... we would beg the reader, if he be disposed to doubt our opinion, to examine almost every single page out of the four thousand of which the work consists, in order that he may learn the true nature and extent of mr. o'donovan's editorial labours. let him see the numberless minute verbal criticisms; the elaborate topographical annotations with which each page is loaded; the historical, genealogical, and biographical notices; the lucid and ingenious illustrations, drawn from the ancient laws, customs, traditions and institutions of ireland; the parallelisms and discrepancies of the narrative with that of other annalists, both native and foreign; the countless authorities which are examined and adjusted; the errors which are corrected; the omissions and deficiencies supplied; in a word, the curious and various learning which is everywhere displayed. let him remember the mines from which all those treasures have been drawn are, for the most part, unexplored; that the materials thus laudably applied to the illustration of the text are in great part manuscripts which ussher and ware, even waddy and colgen, not to speak of lynch and lanigan, had never seen, or left unexamined; many of them in a language which is to a great extent obsolete." a prospectus of the work will be forwarded gratis to any application made to the publishers. dublin: hodges & smith, grafton street, booksellers to the university. london: longman & co.; and simpkin, marshall, & co. * * * * * . _fleet street, london_, jan. . . _one hundred days' sale of books and other property._ mr. l.a. lewis, auctioneer of literary property (established , without change of name or firm), will have sales by auction of libraries, small parcels of books, early duplicates of circulating libraries, editor's books, prints, pictures, and miscellaneous effects every week throughout the present year, on the under-named days. property sent in not later than the previous friday will be certain to be sold (if required) in the following week. on friday, th, and saturday, th of january. on friday, th, and saturday, th of january. on friday, st, and saturday, nd of january. on thursday, th, friday, th, and saturday, th of january. on saturday, th of february. on friday, th, and saturday, th of february. on friday, th, and saturday, th of february. on friday, th, and saturday, th of february. on thursday, rd, friday, th, and saturday, th of march. on saturday, th of march. on friday, th, and saturday, th of march. on saturday, th of march. on friday, st, and saturday, nd of april. on thursday, th, friday, th, and saturday, th of april. on saturday, th of april. on friday, nd, and saturday, rd of april. on friday, th, and saturday, th of april. on friday, th, and saturday, th of may. on thursday, th, friday, th, and saturday, th of may. on saturday, st of may. on friday, th, and saturday, th of may. on friday, rd, and saturday, th of june. on friday, th, and saturday, th of june. on thursday, th, friday, th, and saturday, th of june. on saturday, th of june. on friday, st, and saturday, nd of july. on friday, th, and saturday, th of july. on friday, th, and saturday, th of july. on thursday, st, friday, nd, and saturday, rd of july. on saturday, th of july. on thursday, th, friday, th, and saturday, th of august. on friday, th, and saturday, th of august. on friday, th, and saturday, th of august. on friday, th, and saturday, th of august. on saturday, rd of september. on friday, th, and saturday, th of september. on friday, th, and saturday, th of september. on friday, rd, and saturday, th of september. on friday, th of september, and saturday, st of october. on saturday, th of october. on friday, th, and saturday, th of october. on friday, st, and saturday, nd of october. on friday, th, and saturday, th of october. on friday, th, and saturday, th of november. on saturday, th of november. on friday, th, and saturday, th of november. on friday, th, and saturday, th of november. on friday, nd, and saturday, rd of december. on friday, th, and saturday, th of december. on saturday, th of december. on friday, rd, and saturday, th of december. on friday, th, and saturday, st of december. mr. l. a. lewis will also have occasional sales of printing and book-binding materials, household furniture, and general effects. * * * * * classical education in france.--a married gentleman, of literary habits, a graduate and repeated prizeman of cambridge, who has resided many years in france, receives into his family three pupils, to whom with his own younger son he devotes the whole of his time. there are now vacancies: terms, including masters for french, german, and drawing, guineas per annum. address h. i. d., at mr. bell's, . fleet street. * * * * * to all who have farms or gardens. the gardeners' chronicle and agricultural gazette. (the horticultural part edited by prof. lindley) of saturday, january , contains articles on agriculture, progress of aphelexis apple, golden pippin birds, destructive, by messrs. hardy calendar, horticultural carrots, cattle cement for stoneware chicory, to roast college, cirencester, sessional examination at drains, stoppage of, by mr. sherrard eau de lessive emigrant, the, rev. fairclough's (mr.) farm farm valuation, by mr. morton farming, the year's experience in, by the rev. l. vernon harcourt flowers, florist, by mr. edwards fruits, syrian gardenia fortuni gift hall farm, cheese-making at grapes, red hamburgh, by mr. thompson hort. society's garden land question lanktree's elements of land valuation, rev. larch, durability of, by mr. patterson melons in st. michael's, by mr. wallace mildew mushrooms, by mr. massey nuts, cedar plough, drain poultry primula sinensis rabbits, rearing of reptiles, temperature of, by m. aug. duméril reviews, miscellaneous roots, curious instances of formation of, by mr. booth (with engraving) societies, proceedings of the caledonian; horticultural; fylde agricultural st. michael's, melons in, by mr. wallace statistics, agricultural, by dr. mackenzie tanks, water tree-lifter, mcglashen's turnips, lois weedon ---- at kettering wardian cases wind gauge. the gardeners' chronicle and agricultural gazette contains, in addition to the above, the covent garden, mark lane, smithfield, and liverpool prices, with returns from the potato, hop, hay, coal, timber, bark, wool, and seed markets, and a _complete newspaper, with a condensed account of all the transactions of the week_. order of any newsvender. office for advertisements, . upper wellington street, covent garden, london. * * * * * printed by thomas clark shaw, of no. . new street square, at no. . new street square, in the parish of st. bride, in the city of london; and published by george bell, of no. . fleet street, in the parish of st. dunstan in the west, in the city of london, publisher, at no. . fleet street aforesaid.--saturday, january . . wit and wisdom of lord tredegar [illustration: tredegar] wit and wisdom of lord tredegar . western mail, limited, cardiff, newport, swansea, merthyr, brecon and , fleet street, london. foreword. there are a few observations which may be deemed appropriate in presenting to the public this collection of extracts from the speeches of godfrey charles morgan, first viscount tredegar; but it is inconceivable that any should be necessary by way of apology. during the course of an active and a well-spent life, happily extended beyond the allotted span, lord tredegar has made hundreds of public utterances. innumerable are the functions he has attended during half-a-century and over; and at most of them he has been the central figure. but while his high station would always have secured attention and respect for his words, this volume may serve to prove to future generations what this generation well knows, that lord tredegar has held his listeners by his humour or by his earnestness, according to the occasion, and that, in the homely phrase, he has always had "something to say." it is my hope, however, that this little book may have a still worthier mission. for i think it will be found to reveal a noble mind. the simple words of lord tredegar have time and again struck deep to the hearts of his audience. collected here, they reveal the gentleness of his disposition and the purity of his motives. they show the consistency of his life. but they do much more. they appear to constitute a great moral force. not that his lordship ever posed as preacher, or constituted himself a court of judgment on any class of his fellows. there is no trace of a superior tone in his speeches. his words show sympathetic insight into the trials and difficulties that beset the path of every one of us, and his desire was never to censure, but ever to encourage and assist with kindly suggestion and cheering thought. no aspect of these extracts is so interesting as that which enables us to observe how faithfully and well lord tredegar has discharged his promises. long before he could describe himself as a landowner, he said that if ever he came into that position he would give any assistance he could to his tenants in the way of improving his land. he hoped he would never become "such a ruffian as some people would make landlords out to be." reading later speeches we find lord tredegar undertaking in his turn conscientiously the public duties previously discharged by his father. we find him making the acquaintance of the farmers and studying their difficulties. we find him raising the tredegar show to its present pre-eminence in the world of agriculture. it is a noble record of honesty of purpose. and agriculture, as well we know in wales and monmouthshire, is but one of lord tredegar's many interests. he has spoken wise words on education; he has urged the claims of charity. he has led the way in historical research, and inspired among many whose interest might not otherwise have been aroused a love of our ancient castles and our dear old parish churches. he has spoken eloquently of our welsh heroes and bards. upon the value of eisteddfodau he loves to expound. but it is not these higher interests of his that have made him so beloved. his appeals for the ragged urchin of the streets, his appreciation of the bravery of the worker, his jokes at bazaars, his quips at the cabmen's annual dinners, his love of old customs, his pleasantries at the servants' balls, by these and by his transparent sincerity he has won the affections of all classes of the people, who have found in him a leader who can share sorrows as well as joys. his brave words have been the consolation of the widow of the humble soldier slain in battle, as they have been the encouragement of the boy or girl scholar shyly taking from his hand a prize. he has told the boys they will be all the better for total abstinence, and he has dined and joked with licensed publicans. "here, at least, is inconsistency," may exclaim the stranger into whose hand this book may fall. but lord tredegar justifies himself by the fact that having licensed houses on his estate it is his duty to take an interest in those who conduct them. lord tredegar has never sought to adorn his speeches with rhetoric. he has always spoken so that he who heard could understand. and yet he is reputed justly to be among the best of after-dinner speakers. if it be necessary to delve into the possible secret of his success, one might hazard a guess that it is because in his speeches it is the unexpected that always happens. the transition from grave to gay or from gay to grave is so swift that the mind of the listener is held as it were by a spell, and all is over e'er yet one thought it had begun. much of this, however, is in passing. quite a multitude, at one time or another, has listened to the words of godfrey charles morgan. quite a multitude has been influenced by them. that multitude, i am sure, will be glad to have those words in permanent form. there may be but a sentence chosen from a speech that has been heard, but that sentence will be remembered or recollected. and to that greater multitude who by the natural force of circumstances cannot have listened to the words of viscount tredegar, this little collection may serve to show forth a figure that, though simple, is great in simplicity, and it were strange indeed if some sentences were not found which may help to make a crooked way straight. the editor. wit and wisdom of lord tredegar. epigrammatic eloquence. i would rather trust and be deceived, than be found to have suspected falsely. _reduction of armaments meeting, newport, march th, ._ some people will not go across a street to hear an oratorio, though they would go many miles to listen to that very entertaining melody, "whoa, emma!"--and i'm not sure that i shouldn't be one of them.-- _tredegar show. november th, ._ the other day i was doing a little bit of horse-cropping--i'm fond of that sort of thing--and went into an irish dealer's yard, where i saw a horse which grunted very much. looking at the dealer, i said, "the horse is a roarer," and the irishman replied: "ah, no, me lord, not a bit of it. i've 'ad 'im from two years ould, an' e' 'ad wunce a most desprit froight, an' 'e's 'ad the hiccups ever since!" _tredegar show, november th, ._ [illustration: "_'e's 'ad the hiccups ever since!_"] i do not think there is a man in england who has more at heart than myself the religious education of children. in the chartist riots took place at newport. in the following year national schools were opened, and i believe that had the men who took part in these riots received the education imparted at the national schools they would never have decided upon such a misguided course of action. _jubilee of newport national schools, may th, ._ i was rather alarmed when i received the notice, "peach blossom fancy dress fair," and i telegraphed at once to a lady who i thought knew what was going on and asked, "am i obliged to come in fancy dress?" the answer i got was, "you need not wear anything." _llangibby church fete, august, ._ [illustration: "_you need not wear anything._"] i generally pay great attention to what a clergyman says, but you cannot always take the advice of a clergyman. a certain man had a dog, and his minister told him that he had better sell the dog and get a pig, to which the man replied, "a pretty fool i should look going rat-catching with a pig." _st. paul's garden fete, newport, june rd, ._ without some sort of religion no man can be happy. _st. paul's garden fete, newport, june rd, ._ i am not accustomed to begging, being more accustomed to being begged of. that is one of the hereditary privileges of members of the house of lords. _meeting in connection with the new infirmary for newport, march th, ._ it appears to me that my good qualities increase in proportion as the hair comes off the top of my head, and it is well that in proportion as we grow less ornamental we should grow more useful. _tredegar show, november th, ._ i really think i must be out of place here. you know i am one of the hereditary nonentities. i cannot help the hereditary part of the business, and i have tried all my life to avoid the other. _south monmouthshire conservative association, december nd, ._ you ought, of course, to learn something about ancient art, or you will be like a certain lord mayor of whom i have heard. one day he received a telegram from some people who were carrying on excavations in greece, and who had discovered a statue by phidias. they thought, in common with most foreigners, that the lord mayor was the most powerful person in the kingdom--abroad he is supposed to rule the country. anyway, they sent him a telegram saying "phidias is recovered." the lord mayor wired back that he was pleased to hear it, but that he did not know that phidias had been unwell. _art school prize distribution, newport, december th, ._ a noted musician, when asked whether he thought it was right to carry out capital punishment, replied: "no; because you can do a man to death with a piano." _at llandaff, june th, ._ [illustration: "_you can do a man to death with a piano._"] i believe i have laid more foundation stones than any other man in england. i have mallets and trowels sufficient to supply, i believe, every parish church in the country. they are very handsome and ornamental, and i hope i shall have more of them. _foundation stone laying, st. john's church, cardiff, march th, ._ [illustration: "_i believe i have laid more foundation stones than any other man in england._"] we (agriculturists) are looked upon as a long-suffering and patient race, and some of the manufacturing class think we are fit subjects for bleeding. in fact, it has been said that agriculturists are like their own sheep, inasmuch as they can bear a close shaving without a bleat; whereas the manufacturers are like pigs; only touch their bristles and they will "holler like the devil." _tredegar show, december th, ._ lord rosebery is alternately a menace and a sigh. _conservative dinner, newport, november th, ._ we have had an old-fashioned winter, and i do not care if i never see another. the only people, i fancy, who have enjoyed the winter are the doctors and the press. _servants' ball_, _january th, ._ memories of balaclava. i consider myself one of the most fortunate men in england to have been one of those spared out of the about whom so much has been said and sung. although my military career has been brief, i have seen a great deal. i have seen war in all its horrors. it is said to be "an ill wind that blows nobody good"; so it has been with me. i have learned to doubly appreciate home and all its comforts. before going out to the crimea i was accustomed to see, on these occasions, farmers looking happy and contented, and i was in the habit of thinking what a great nation england was, and how she flourished in all things; but since the war commenced i have seen the other side of the picture. i have seen an army march into an hostile country, and in the midst of farms flowing with milk and honey, and teeming with corn and every luxury--and there, in a few hours, all was desolation, one stone not being left on another, and the people made slaves to the invaders. how thankful we ought to be that we are not suffering at the hand of an invading army. now that my military career is at an end i am sure that a great many of you will sympathise with my father, whose anxiety has been very great. we were out during the most dreadful period of the war, and it need not be wondered at that i yielded to the most earnest entreaties of my father to relinquish my connection with the army lest i should bring his grey hairs with sorrow to the grave. my father thought that one such action as i have been in was sufficient to prove the mettle of his son. i will not further enlarge on the horrors and miseries of war. may you never see them as i have done, and may we all meet at this festive board next year. _newport agricultural show, december th, ._ i do not intend to say much about balaclava to-day because you have heard the old story over and over again, and i am too old now to invent stories of balaclava. on my way down here i stopped to receive a telegram worded in these terms:--"fifteen survivors of the balaclava charge send your lordship hearty congratulations and affectionate remembrances on this day, the th anniversary." well, recollections of a sad event are at any time, of course, unpleasant, but it is particularly sad to think that there are now only survivors remaining out of the light brigade of . that attenuated number does not include myself, and there are three other officers still alive. you may be pretty confident that of these few survivors there were at least two or three with whom i conversed within a few hours of the balaclava charge. you can imagine those conversations. they were not very lively ones. they referred probably to some comrade who had been killed or to the difficulty of filling the place of some officer who had fallen; because when we drew up after the balaclava charge i was the officer in command of the decimated regiment. all my superior officers had been either killed or wounded, and i was placed in the difficult position to find men suddenly to fill the vacancies. so you can imagine the recollections of those survivors. since that time there have been a number of gallant deeds on the part of the british army, and i hope that those gallant deeds will be remembered, just as the balaclava charge is remembered here. i hope the british nation will never forget such events as trafalgar and waterloo, but will always hoist a flag or do something else to commemorate them. _balaclava dinner, bassaleg, october th, ._ my own courage in the memorable charge was small, but the deed of daring conferred everlasting credit on the senior officers who took part in it. i trust that you will keep your offspring fully acquainted with the heroic deeds of the british army, and induce them to display similar courage in the hour of their country's danger. _balaclava dinner, castleton, october th, ._ when a person gets beyond the allotted age of man there must, i think, be in his mind a melancholy thought regarding the possibility of his being present on a similar occasion twelve months hence. i am afraid that some men of my age would have to limp into a room, probably assisted by a crutch. fortunately, however, i was able to walk into the room without a crutch and without assistance, and i am thankful for that to the power above. the term "hero" is a term with which many soldiers do not agree. the mention of the word recalls to my mind the well-known lines of rudyard kipling: "we aren't no thin red 'eroes, an' we aren't no blackguards, too, but single men in barracks, most remarkable like you." i am sure the soldiers who fought with the light cavalry at balaclava did not think themselves greater heroes than others in the crimea who did their duty. quite recently i read an article in a military magazine, it dealt with the question of the advance of cavalry and the arms which should be given them--the lance, the sword, and the rifle. the article commenced with the statement that it was the business of every soldier to go into action with the determination to try and kill someone. i suppose that is right in its way, but it was hardly the sentiment we went into action with. we went into action to try to defeat the enemy, but the fewer we killed the better. i have to confess that i tried to kill someone, but to this day i congratulate myself on the fact that i do not know whether i succeeded or no. in these days of long range guns our consciences are saved a great deal, and so far as killing anyone goes i always give myself the benefit of the doubt, so that the charge of murder cannot be brought against me. _balaclava dinner, bassaleg, october th, ._ quips at the servants' ball. i have arrived at the age when to clasp the waist of one of the opposite sex for three hours is not considered the height of human happiness. i remember, however, with pleasure, a time in my younger days when i thought it was so, and perhaps some of those who can indulge in a valse without feeling giddy, or a polka without being "blown," think so now. _servants' ball, january th, ._ [illustration: "_i remember, however, with pleasure, a time in my younger days._"] i am happy to be able truly and honestly to say that i have not a word of difference with any servant of my establishment. each year as it rolls onward finds me stiffer in the joints, shorter in the breath, and less able than formerly to perform the double shuffle, but there are others coming on--the younger members of the family--who will be able to kick up their heels as lightly as once i was able to do. as each year rolls round, too, there are always saddening memories, but on an occasion of this sort i will make no allusions to them, ... i hope you will stick to old fashions and old ways. you may be told of new-fangled ways, and be advised to get rid of the old, but i think it will be well if you do not pay too much attention to those advisers. england is like old tredegar house, and you will find that the customs now prevailing have been in vogue for over years. you will probably be told that the best way to make people happy is to make the poor rich and the rich poor; but, in truth, the richer people are, the better able they are to help the poor. _servants' ball, january th, ._ many of you waited last night for the old year to go out and the new year to come in. i did for one. i listened at the window and i heard bells ringing, and noises which i can only describe as hideous. there is an invention in this part of the world, which i believe comes from america (where they have a great many disagreeable things) called a "hooter." when i listened last night it seemed to me that it was deliberately hooting out the old year which to so many of us had painful recollections; and it occurred to me that it was a most appropriate thing to do. it was the wettest spring, the coldest summer, the windiest autumn that i have ever known. _servants' ball, january st, ._ i can imagine the bassaleg parish council rejoicing in a license for dancing in the hall, and the teetotallers passing a resolution in favour of total abstinence, in which case we should have to obtain our refreshments from the village pump. _servants' ball, january th, ._ railways are springing up all round, and, reading the signs of the times as i do, i think there will be increased prosperity. if all the railways now proposed are constructed, we shall be able to paraphrase the poet's lines:-- railways to right of them, railways to left of them, railways behind them, most of them silly 'uns. into the lawyer's jaw, and the contractor's paw, go the eight millions. i shall be able to convert tredegar house into the "railway hotel," join the licensed victuallers' association, and do a good trade--if i can get a license. we have progressed a good deal lately, even in dancing. i can remember the minuet being the fashion. it was danced with a great deal of bowing and scraping. then the waltz, quadrille, and lancers came. we next had a kitchen lancers, and this year we have a barn dance. next year, perhaps, we shall have a pigstye polka, which will no doubt be very amusing. _servants' ball, january th, ._ [illustration: "_i shall be able to convert tredegar house into the 'railway hotel.'_"] there have been many changes in the manners and customs of the country during late years. i am very fond of old customs, and i hope this old-fashioned servants' ball will be kept up by those who come after me. i am sure there is no gentleman in england who is blessed with a better lot of servants than i have. if sometimes by my manner i do not appear pleased, i hope you will make allowance for the business anxieties constantly hanging over my head, and which do not always conduce to a pleasant expression. i will relate an incident. an individual who apparently takes a great deal of interest in me wrote to me not so long ago and asked, "why did you look so proud and haughty when you met me the other day?" i have no recollection of having been proud and haughty, but i have a very distinct recollection of a very tight boot and a very bad corn. _servants' ball, january th, ._ [illustration: "_when your toe begins to take a fantastic shape it is pretty nearly time to give up dancing._"] i always sympathise with you in your sorrows and try to join you in your pleasures. in this life, unfortunately, for a good many, there are more sorrows than pleasures, but i think it is the duty of all who have it in their power to try to make those around them have, if possible, more pleasures in their lives than sorrows. i congratulate myself that i have still a kick left in me. you know that milton, the poet, has said in two lines: "come and trip it as you go on the light fantastic toe." but when your toe begins to take a fantastic shape it is pretty nearly time to give up dancing. as my toes are beginning to take that shape, i am afraid i shall not have a kick left much longer. i have always spoken a few words to you on these occasions--sometimes of sentiment, sometimes of politics, and sometimes of fun. i usually prefer fun, because there is generally enough of the other phases around us. i will therefore content myself with giving the establishment a little bit of advice, or rather a hint. i have found that what i say on these occasions has somehow or other found its way into the papers. i do not know exactly how that is. however, i think it will be more impressive in print, because if you forget what i say before the end of the evening, you will be able to read it in the press next day. my hint is about fires. there are large fireplaces in tredegar house, which is an old one, full of old oak which is liable to catch fire. during the last few weeks some fine old country houses have been destroyed by fire. i do not think this has occurred through carelessness. i know my servants are not careless. what i want you to understand is the difference between a fire and a furnace. old welsh families--and my family is really an old welsh family--all believe that they have very long pedigrees. there are in the strong room at tredegar house a great many old records--some of which i have read out of curiosity. many of them, no doubt, are mythical, and some are accurate, but in all my study of them i have not been able to discover that i bear any relationship to shadrach, meshach and abednego. i therefore fail to see why the household staff should pile up furnaces, especially now that i assure them i am not quite impervious to fire. i always like to entertain you a little on these occasions. i will therefore just sing to you a few lines, and ask young charley (the huntsman) to come in at the end. i notice that old charley (the former huntsman) is also present, and he, perhaps, will join in as well. his lordship then sang the following verses to the tune of "ben bolt":-- there are soul-stirring sounds in the fiddle and flute when music begins in the hall, and a goddess in muslin that's likely to suit as the mate of your choice for the ball. but the player may strain every finger in vain and the fiddler may resin his bow, nor fiddle nor string such rapture shall bring as the sound of the sweet "tally-ho." _servants' ball, january th, ._ times have changed, and fashions change very quickly--so much so that i was half afraid you would have petitioned me to allow you to have a ping-pong tournament. i am glad to see that you still prefer to stick to the old custom of a ball. of all entertainments a ball is, in my opinion, the most harmless. it will always follow that there will be some who perhaps on the morrow will think that their affections had not been quite under control, and that they had spoken words of endearment that perhaps they regretted, and the lady might not. and perhaps there will always be those whose control over their thirst at a ball is not quite so strong as that of others. _servants' ball, january rd, ._ [illustration: "_perhaps there will always be those whose control over their thirst at a ball is not quite so strong as that of others._"] i have no doubt that much of what mr. perrott has just told you about the revels that have taken place in the hall during the last or years is perfectly true. there may perhaps have been more fun in the old days--that is a matter of history. i very much doubt it myself, and i have a sort of idea, and i hope and trust that at the servants' ball which still takes place here annually--unless there is some misfortune to prevent it--there is as much fun and revelry as has ever before taken place in this hall. the old lamp hung over your heads belonged to a former lord mayor of london--sir edward clark--from whom i inherited some property and plate. that lamp probably hung in the mansion house in london some two or three hundred years ago, and i have no doubt it has seen some peculiar scenes. _servants' ball, january th, ._ i also have my little anxieties. i have been hoping and praying that the enemy will not come up the bristol channel and land somewhere near here before i have got my territorial army into position. at the present moment the territorial army in monmouthshire consists exactly of men, all of whom are officers. so that unless the enemy give us due notice that they are coming here, i am afraid that we shall have to depend principally upon the tredegar house establishment. i am quite certain that you will all answer my call, the ladies more particularly. i don't care so much about the enemy, whenever he comes, so long as i have the ladies with me. _servants' ball, jan. th, ._ [illustration: "_i don't care so much about the enemy, whenever he comes, so long as i have the ladies with me._"] i take this opportunity of thanking you, and all those in my service who have spent this year together with me, for the happy way in which we have been enabled to pass the whole year together in our mutual admiration for each other. i was going to say affection for each other, and i should like to think so. we are--i propose using a silly phrase to express our relations at tredegar house--a brotherhood of men. we are here as a brotherhood of men, and a sisterhood of women, and i should like you to look upon me as one of yourselves. it may be, before this time next year, if things go on as they are, that i shall be calling you comrade perrot, and you will be calling me comrade morgan. things are going very fast just now, but i think there is a right feeling throughout the country that we are going too fast. it may be that next year, instead of being summoned to the ball here you will be asked to "come and trip as you go to the light fantastic veto," and we shall be invited to dance the referendum lancers. _servants' ball, january th, ._ [illustration: "_i shall be calling you comrade perrot, and you will be calling me comrade morgan._"] on archbishops and bishops. it is customary among certain classes to look upon bishops as men living in beautiful palaces, faring sumptuously, and rolling about in carriages; but there is no ploughman who does a harder day's work than does our bishop. as to the clergy, many of them labour amongst us for a stipend which many an artizan would despise. _bassaleg farmers' dinner, october th, ._ there is a certain class of advanced politicians who never lose an opportunity of serving their own ends by impressing upon their hearers their particular notions of what a bishop of the church of england is like. that dignitary is generally pictured as a gentleman who receives a large salary, is clothed in purple and fine linen, fares sumptuously every day, and lives in luxurious idleness. _the opening of the seamen's mission church, newport, january th, ._ we should remember the duties and responsibilities which rest on an archbishop. he has a vast correspondence, in which there is not a single letter that he can write without weighing every word. he is not like ordinary people, who are able to scribble off their correspondence; for if a word in a letter from an archbishop is in the wrong place, it may upset a college or cause a revolution. if you study the history of the archbishopric of canterbury, beginning with st. augustine, then going on to lanfranc, to anselm, to theodore, and down to benson and temple, you will, i believe, come to the conclusion that i have reached--that whilst many of the men who have gone before him have filled great parts in making the history of the nation, there is not one whose character, whose powers of speech, and whose earnestness in carrying out his duties, exceeded those of the present archbishop (dr. temple). _seventy-fifth anniversary of st. david's college, lampeter october th, ._ [illustration: "_there is not one whose character, and whose powers of speech exceeded those of the present archbishop (dr. temple)._"] the trials of the clergy. bishops and clergy have to deal with all sorts of communications from parishioners. i remember one case where a clergyman received a letter telling him he would never do for st. phillip's because he was altogether too quiet in his preaching, and not half sensational enough, but that if he would preach in a red coat in the morning, and with no coat at all at night, he would be just the man for the job. as to the bishops, they have so much to do that one of them--bishop magee, of peterborough, i believe--summed up the situation by saying that people seemed to have an idea that a bishop had nothing to do but sit in his library with the windows open, so that every jackass might put in his head and bray. _church luncheon, newport, may th, ._ sermons and sinners. if the clergy only preached as well as they might, there ought not to be a single sinner in their parishes. _licensed victuallers' dinner, newport, february th, ._ the old parish church. i believe that all classes, including the nonconformists, have a real love for the old parish church and its grey tower, beneath the shade of which so many of their ancestors are laid. here at michaelston-y-vedw we have a fine historic building, erected about . i may tell you that one of its old parish registers contains an interesting entry. it is that "godfrey charles morgan was baptised here on may th, ." _eisteddfod, cefn-mably, september th, ._ [illustration: "_godfrey charles morgan was baptised here on may th, ._"] i always take more interest in these historical little rural parish churches than i do in a brand new church erected in some populous district. of course, the church is really more necessary there than among the small communities; still, there is the sentiment, the old association of the old parish church and the churchyard in which "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep." those lines of the poet gray: "the cock's shrill clarion, nor the echoing horn, no more shall raise him from his lonely bed," often strike me, because the little church is so closely connected with the llangibby family. the llangibby and morgan families have been associated very often before in the long vista of history, but you have amongst you now a relation of mine, come to live amongst you, and who will look after this little church. religious tolerance. it is possible that i am very tolerant in my religious opinions. but seeing that we are now living under perfect tolerance, and that the religious wants of the people must be supplied, i think it is the duty of those who own property to see that there is accommodation for the religious needs of all who live thereon. as science advances there must be considerable differences of opinion on religion in a large and important town like cardiff. a great man once said that tolerance was simply indifference; i do not agree with him. i think it is possible to be tolerant without being indifferent to one's own opinions. there is a great leaning nowadays towards scientific religion. education is advancing very rapidly, and philosophical men are trying to make reasons for every line in scripture and every line in the prayer book. that may be useful in a way, but i cannot help thinking that many books written lately by men who are very learned, and with very good intent, will, if circulated among the young of the country, do a great deal of harm. i look forward to an increase of religious feeling throughout the country, and i shall be always ready to assist, as far as i can, in erecting chapels and other places for religious instruction and religious worship. _chapel, cardiff, september th, ._ i have never posed as one made of that stuff of which martyrs are made--and perhaps my remarks may offend some, or scandalize others. but i would rather see any place of worship in the town than none at all, i will go so far as to say i would rather see a mohammedan mosque in the town than no place of worship at all. i have the greatest possible admiration for faith of any sort. early in my life i had occasion to look with admiration upon the faith even of a mohammedan. i have listened to the minister of the mosque calling the faithful to prayers two, three or more times a day, and i have seen the mohammedans in the street go down on their knees and say their prayers in front of everybody. i have seen a regiment of mohammedans on the march, and at the hour of sunset every man in the regiment would kneel on his carpet and say his prayers. those were soldiers who were not afraid of their faith, though it might have been the wrong one. i have watched a poor italian peasant kneel on the roadside and offer his small tribute to the shrine. he was not afraid of praying before anybody; but i am afraid that some of us would rather be seen with our hands in somebody else's pocket than kneel down and say our prayers in the club-room. _foundation-stone laying at baptist church, cardiff, june th, ._ [illustration: "_but i am afraid that some of us would rather be seen with our hands in somebody else's pocket than kneel down and say our prayers in the club-room._"] the cricketer curate. cricket is the nicest, best and most gentlemanly exercise in great britain. how general is the love of cricket is shown by the story of some parishioners who, when asked by their vicar what sort of a curate they would like, said:--"we don't care much about the preaching, but what we want in the curate is a good break to the off." [illustration: "_we don't care much about the preaching but what we want in the curate is a good break to the off._"] the brotherhood of man. i think you are quite right in commencing with a religious service a ceremony such as i am about to perform. these institutions are established for the welfare of the inhabitants, and we begin with a religious service in order to impress on those who are going to use the hall hereafter that, whatever is done inside the hall should be done in a way which is really a christian way. it will not affect in any way the feelings of those who attend for amusement or instruction, except to prompt a religious feeling which we all wish to have some time or other in our lives. i was very pleased to be able to come to-day and perform the opening ceremony. a little pressure was put on me because at my time of life you don't recover from any extra exertion. i do like this term of brotherhood. those who have arrived at my time of life know what it is to have and to value a really sympathising brother. i am referring to my own dear brother, who has recently left us. throughout our lives we did not have a single word of difference or a thought of difference, and the word "brother" will draw me out at any time. it is the idea of universal feeling that everybody is trying his or her best in this world in whatever he or she may be trying to do--it is the feeling of brotherhood which helps us to get that feeling. _speech at the victoria brotherhood, newport, march th, ._ the uses of the parish room. [illustration: "_the ploughman returning from his weary work may just scrape his boots outside._"] in olden days the ordinary village school was the only place available for meetings or for general gatherings of the parishioners, and a long time ago that did very well. but the advance of education is tending to interfere a good deal with our old ideas and places, and it is now almost necessary that every church, or every parish, should have a clubroom--a room where all classes can mix together and improve the knowledge they have gained at the various county schools--intermediate or otherwise. we want the parish room to be open to everyone. the ploughman returning from his weary work may just scrape his boots outside, and he will be perfectly welcome any time he likes to come in. i am sure there is a great deal of learning to be acquired, a great deal of good to be done, a great deal of instruction to be gathered, in a church room of this description, when it is managed in the way it ought to be. as you know, there are certain superior people who like essays and that sort of thing, and who, are inclined to sneer at the village concerts and penny readings and little dances which are likely to take place here. but we do not all possess the wisdom of socrates, the dignity of pliny, or the wit of horace. perhaps i shall put it more plainly if i say we do not possess the wisdom of shakespeare, the dignity of wordsworth, or the wit of byron. but there is quite likely to be as much good sense in a humble gathering of an evening here as amongst those superior people who always try to teach us by telling us what we ought to do, what to think about, and what we ought to remember. those are the people who advertise the simple life. i fancy most of you are living fairly simple lives, whilst those gentlemen who advocate it so much do not know what the simple life means. not very far from us is where "the rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep," and in gray's beautiful elegy we are told: "perhaps in this neglected spot is laid some heart once pregnant with celestial fire; hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, or waked to ecstasy the living lyre." might not some of those who are laid in the churchyard close by, if they had enjoyed the advantages we have, have "wakened to ecstasy the living lyre," or been great members of either parish councils or county councils, or even members of parliament! i think that before this room has been in existence many years we shall find that some of those attending the gatherings which i hope will take place here, have done their best to make themselves prominent in life, especially in trying to keep before the world the truths of that religion which we have thought so much of and heard so much of to-day. _opening of church-room at llanvaches, february, ._ gentle manners. there is one great thing that will carry you comfortably through life, and that is a nice, gentle manner. i see you all have nice, gentle manners, and what i ask you to do is to carry them outside the school, and retain them when you are on the roads or in the fields, or in your own homes. i ask the boys to cultivate the same language outside as inside the school, and the girls the same manners. _school prize distribution, rhiwderin, april th, ._ bad language is unnecessary. bad words are used by some people in every other sentence, without any necessity at all, and they mean nothing. if you can only learn to drop those disagreeable words you will be much more pleasant members of society. i like to see boys lively, spirited, and anxious to amuse themselves whenever they can. but they should be kind and gentle to their mothers and sisters. it is the nature of boys to be tyrannical to the other sex, but they will lose nothing by being as kind and gentle as they can be. _boys' brigade inspection, newport, april th, ._ [illustration: "_it is the nature of boys to be tyrannical to the other sex._"] it has been well said that good manners are something to everybody, and everything to somebody. some people will not take anyone into employment unless they have good manners. as an old soldier, i know the value of _esprit de corps_. a hundred soldiers with the spirit of their corps are worth two hundred who do not care a straw about the regiment. _pontywain school, december th, ._ mr. labouchere has said he would rather have a gentleman of bad morals who voted right, than a gentleman whose morals were right but who voted wrong. well, i would rather have a gentleman whose manners are good, even though he votes wrong, than one who votes right and whose manners are bad. _licensed victuallers' dinner, july th, ._ reverence for religion. as i grow older i find that the younger people are the less they like advice, and the less likely they are to take it. but i hope you will henceforth be good citizens of this great country. in your brigade you are taught to have reverence for religion and respect for authority, which are great principles to get on with. _boys' brigade inspection, april th, ._ the teaching of refinement. there has been a great deal of talk lately about education. we have had board schools and national schools, and we are now going to have technical schools. but there is one point we have not yet arrived at--the teaching of refinement. i look upon the eisteddfod as encouraging literature and music and art, as one of the great institutions for the encouragement of refinement in general life. we may become very well educated and very scientific, but unless there is refinement among us in general life, we will naturally tend towards roughness of manners. _brecon eisteddfod, august th, ._ in praise of hospitals. we are met to endeavour to raise sufficient money to erect a hospital or infirmary worthy of the town of newport. there are two statements nobody can dispute: newport is a large and yearly increasing seaport, and a town of this magnitude ought not to be without a large and splendid hospital. i am afraid that with many people the idea of a hospital or infirmary does not go further than a small subscription and a few admission tickets to give away. but i wish to explain to the public generally the enormous advantages and the necessity of a good and well-organized hospital in the town. whatever subscription you give you may be pretty nearly certain that the money will be spent in the right way. all other charities are more or less liable to some sort of imposture, but that is almost impossible with a hospital. i remember, as a soldier in the old days, that there was a certain sort of complaint we used to call malingering. if a man wanted to shirk any duty he pretended to be ill, but was very soon found out by the regimental doctor. so in the same way hospital doctors will soon find out the malingerer. a hospital is a high school of medicine for young doctors, who not only mix with scientific people at the institution, but gain a high moral feeling, so that there is no room for small petty jealousies amongst the medical practitioners. then look at the injured people carried to the hospital. they have the best of care, and in most cases are turned out cured, sound and strong. if it were not for the hospital, they would probably be cripples or invalids for life. in that way hospitals save the rates. i am sure that hundreds are yearly turned out of the infirmary sound in mind and body, able to support their families and keep them off the rates. then, again, a hospital makes an excellent school for nurses. that is one of the greatest benefits possible, because the authorities of the hospital are always strictly careful that nurses, before they are sent out, are thoroughly proficient. i am sure no building ground or house, or any other little present i may have given in the course of my life, will be more useful than the land i have given for this site. i hope, in addition to the land, to be able to give a good sum of money if i see it is required. _meeting in connection with a new infirmary for newport, march th, ._ when is a hospital a success. this toast has always appeared to me very difficult to word. i do not know whether success to the infirmary means a full infirmary with all the wards engaged. it reminds me of a celebrated american who, when asked what sort of a town he had just left, remarked that it was very flourishing, for every hospital was crammed, every workhouse was too full, and they were about to build another wing to the gaol. _cardiff infirmary, january th, ._ reclaim the street urchin. the arabians have a proverb to the effect that "the stone that is fit for the wall should not be allowed to lay in the way." amongst the children who wander about the streets there are many who are, so to speak, quite "fit for the wall"--that is to say, they may, through being brought under drill and other conditions found in the brigade, be turned into respectable members of society. _bazaar at cardiff, april th, ._ [illustration: "_the stone that is fit for the wall should not be allowed to lay in the way._"] the influence of women. [illustration: "_broke the engagement off because the young man said he had never heard of browning._"] women exercise a great deal of influence upon the affairs of the country, even without taking part in business, politics, or anything of that sort. for all i know, there may be some girls here who will affect political and many other movements in connection with the welfare of the nation. girls ought to be made to think that they will have great power in the future, and to realise that they may be able to influence some one for good, not by their great learning so much as by the power that a good girl or a good woman exercises over men. i heard the other day of a young lady who was engaged to be married, but who broke off the engagement because the young man said he had never heard of browning. i am glad to be able to tell you that she thought better of it afterwards.... it was said of the great queen cleopatra that when the roman emperor fell in love with her she was the means of altering the history of the world. some say that if cleopatra's nose had been shorter, the face of the world would have been different. the fate of some young men may depend upon the noses, as well as upon the learning, of some of the girls present. _re-opening of howell's school, llandaff, june th, ._ a friend for the friendless. there cannot possibly be an object in the wide world more worthy of sympathy than a girl without a friend. all over the world this society has its habitations, and it has already befriended , girls. it renders assistance when they are penniless, provides friends when they are friendless, and religious consolation when they require it. _girls' friendly society bazaar, newport, april th, ._ the bravery of the workers. i think it is my duty to allude to the dreadful accident which took place in july at the dock extension works. the facts stated in the report should be printed and go, not only to the shareholders, but to the country generally, as a record of the heroism and endurance that our workers, from the highest engineer to the lowliest navvy, were capable of under distressing and dreadful circumstances. we hear so much of the decadence of the english race nowadays, that i think the report of the disaster at the docks is well worthy of being printed. _half-yearly meeting alexandra (newport and south wales) docks and railway coy., london, august th, ._ i have always admired the working collier, and if british records could be printed thousands of colliers would be found as much entitled to the victoria cross as those soldiers who have performed doughty deeds on the battlefield. _workmen's outing at tredegar park, august th, ._ in the old town hall of newport many great celebrities have received testimonials, compliments and honours--warriors, church dignitaries, financiers and great politicians; but i do not think any circumstance like the present one has arisen before, and there could not be a more interesting ceremony than that which we are about to perform. it is necessary to make a slight excuse for the time which has expired since the great disaster on july nd, . those who remember the incidents know perfectly well that the whole of the dock premises and the town were in a state of excitement for some considerable period, and a large number of unfortunate men were overwhelmed by the disaster, while others fortunately escaped. i think the officials have done their very best to try and select those who really performed heroic efforts. those who have not received recognition, but think they deserve it, will, i feel sure, make all due allowance, and give those responsible the credit for having done their best. it is satisfactory to the directors to know that they have a body of men around them who are ready to do their duty. it is a trait of the educated british workman of to-day that, when given something useful to do, he will perform his task heroically--heroism is characteristic of him. _presentation of certificates for bravery on the occasion of the dock disaster, newport town hall, march th, ._ a tribute to the engine driver. [illustration: "_the feeling of a newport cabman when his horse runs away._"] i have the greatest admiration for engine drivers, particularly those on the great western railway, on which line i travel most. i have often wondered at the admirable manner in which they stop and start their trains. mr. gladstone once said that he could understand the mind of a great historian like gibbon, or of a great poet, like milton, byron, or wordsworth, but that he could not understand the formation of the mind of a man who wrote poems and plays like shakespeare. personally, i cannot understand the mind of an engine driver on an express train. i have been myself, in some very disagreeable positions, and have had some very nasty half minutes. not very long ago i found myself underneath my horse in a muddy ditch and the half minutes i spent in waiting for a friendly hand to drag me out, and in wondering whether assistance would come before i was suffocated, were very unpleasant ones. only a fortnight ago, too, a gentleman was driving me in a light vehicle down a narrow roadway when we saw a runaway horse attached to a lorry galloping towards us. it seemed as if there was nothing for it but for us to be knocked into the proverbial cocked-hat. however, our vehicle was drawn very close to the side and the runaway just cleared us. i can understand, too, the feeling of a man driving four horses when they run away with him, because that has happened to myself; or the feeling of a newport cabman when his horse runs away. but i cannot understand the feeling of sustained courage on the part of a driver of an express engine with his train going at miles an hour through the darkness of the night, perhaps in a storm of snow or sleet. to use a pretty strong expression, it must be like "hell with the lid off." those who travel on railways ought to think more of the responsibilities which rest on railway employees. _railwaymen's dinner, april st, ._ temperance "in all things." [illustration: "_there are many radicals who take a great deal more than they can carry._"] when i talk of temperance i mean temperance not only in drink, but in all things. there is temperance in eating, and temperance in life. in the present case there are three sections--the temperance people, the sunday closing people, and the total abstinence people. i cannot see how the question of religion can enter into party politics. i have known many tories who were habitual drunkards, and there are many radicals who take a great deal more than they can carry. there is always a difficulty in drawing the line between the enthusiast and the fanatic. enthusiastic gentlemen generally get what they require. fanatics, on the other hand, by the way they advocate their principles, turn people away. _opening of the new temperance hall, newport, may nd, ._ i believe that if the medical men of the country published their opinions concerning the cases which come under their notice, it would be a revelation to the general public how great a proportion of illness is due in one way or another to alcoholic drink. i cannot, however, help noticing that a great improvement and advance has taken place in the cause of temperance. a good many years ago, when there was going to be a great family festival--a wedding or something of that sort--one of the family retainers was asked if he was going to be there. "of course," was his reply, "and won't i just get drunk." that seemed to be the prevailing idea of enjoyment--to get drunk. but that attitude has been changed. _band of hope festival, newport, may rd, ._ [illustration: "_coming out and making themselves disagreeable to their neighbours._"] i have no doubt there are several in the hall who, like myself, are not total abstainers, but we are all one in our endeavour to promote temperance generally. to those who cannot be temperate, we advise total abstinence. there is nothing, i am sure, so fruitful of good as the advocacy of temperance amongst children. when children are taught to advocate a particular cause they do it more effectively than older people. but we are sometimes apt to become too much imbued with one particular idea, and it is never well to be too much of a bore to those around us. a little child was asked not long ago what she knew about king john and runnymede. she had evidently been a worker in the temperance cause, and replied, "oh, yes; he's the man they got down to runnymede and made him swear to take the pledge." she had forgotten about magna charta, and thought of only one kind of pledge. there is nothing that disturbs the general happiness and comfort so much as the action of those who persist in going into a public house when they need not do so, and coming out and making themselves disagreeable to their neighbours. i only hope that some of the younger portion of you will live to enjoy a bank holiday without seeing a single drunken person. _band of hope union, newport, may th, ._ total abstinence. there is a rule in the boys' brigade according to which you are supposed to be abstainers from drink. i need not say what a good thing that is. you will all be very much better for being abstainers. you will save a great deal of money, and probably keep your health up better. i wish i had been a total abstainer in my youth. i should have saved a great deal of money. _boys' brigade inspection, newport, april th, ._ an angelic vision. there is a phrase about "the happiness of the greatest number." it is an expressive phrase, but different people have different opinions of happiness. i was hunting in the midland counties and i asked, "where is tom?" the answer was, "he's retired, he's living the life of a hangel; he's a-heating, and a-drinking and a-cussing, and a-swearing all day long." that may not be your idea of the life of an angel, if it was my friend's idea. _the tredegar show, december th, ._ [illustration: "_he's retired, he's living the life of a hangel._"] chats to and about cabbies. i have had many rides in the cabs of newport, and have always found the cabbies very good drivers, prepared to go the pace according to the fare they expected at the end of the journey. _cabmen's dinner, newport, november th, ._ [illustration: "_prepared to go the pace according to the fare they expected at the end of the journey._"] [illustration: "_you try to blow me up on my way to tredegar house._"] i wish you had chosen some other patron saint than guy fawkes, for guy fawkes tried to blow up the house of lords, and on each anniversary you try to blow me up on my way to tredegar house. some persons may think that one conservative peer more or less does not matter, but i prefer that the experiment of blowing up should be tried upon the body of a radical peer. _cabmen's dinner, newport, nov th, ._ [illustration: "_look here, cut it short guv'nor! i've got the cab by the hour._"] there are very odd traditions about cabmen, and i am certain that sometimes they are not deserved. i have been told it is something of a tradition that it is the pride of a cabman to be able to whistle louder, to hit his horse harder, and to tell a bigger lie than anybody else. i believe that to be absolutely untrue, though some of you may know better than i do. one of you is supposed to have nearly upset a wedding. that was a dreadful thing to do. the bride and bridegroom were both at the altar and just about to have the knot tied nicely. the clergyman began to deliver his address, but the bridegroom appeared to be in a great hurry, and said to the clergyman, "look here, cut it short, guv'nor! i've got the cab by the hour." that was rather natural on the part of the bridegroom but the clergyman became very angry, and very nearly threw up the case.... [illustration: "_look here, mr. huddleston, i call you a thief, a blackguard, a scoundrel, and a villain._"] cabmen are limited in the language they may use. judge huddleston, when a barrister, was defending a client against a cabman, who had been using very bad language. the advocacy of huddleston won the case. the next day the cabman called upon him and said: "look here, mr. huddleston, you told me yesterday that i must not call people so and so. what are your charges for telling me what i can call anyone without getting into trouble?" mr. huddleston named his fee, cabby paid the money, and inquired what names he might call a man with impunity. mr. huddleston referred to his law books, and replied: "this is what you may call a man without being had up for libel or defamation of character. you may call him a villain, a scoundrel, a blackguard, and a thief, always supposing you don't accuse him of having stolen anything." the cabby took up his hat and said: "look here, mr. huddleston, i call you a thief, a blackguard, a scoundrel and a villain; not that i mean to say you ever stole anything. good morning." so you know now exactly what you can call a man if you do not like the fare he gives you. at the same time, i do not believe you would say such things. [illustration: "_that's where lord tredegar buried his charger; he made that mound himself._"] then, again, a cabman is always supposed to be a driving encyclopedia. when newport cabmen are driving along caerleon road or chepstow road, credulous individuals ask them the name of every house and place they pass, what it means and what it is. strangers want to know, and you must tell them something. there is an extraordinary tradition about a cabman driving along a road, when a lady fare asked him what "that mountain was with the tump on the top." "but what is the tump for?" persisted the lady. "oh, that's where lord tredegar buried his charger; he made that mound himself," was the reply. such stories are very interesting and amusing, but they spoil history, and that is why i think we are indebted to cabmen for the extraordinary traditions that go about the country. _cabmen's dinner, newport, november th, ._ cabmen have traditionally bad characters, and are supposed to possess a vocabulary which is not taught in the intermediate schools. they are also supposed to have a special method of calculating distances and coin. all those ideas are exploded like nursery rhymes, such as "whittington and his cat." cabmen are well looked after. there is the excise officer and the cruelty to animals society, and, if these are not enough, there is the watch committee. _cabmen's dinner, newport, november th, ._ [illustration: "_but the top of a 'bus is the place for us to see the coves go by._"] you have to compete with tramcars, motor cars, and all kinds of horrible conveyances. having been interested in nursery rhymes since i was very young, i have been looking through some children's books during the last few days to see what is provided for the children of these days, and i came across the following lines in a book for children:-- the hansom takes you quickest, the growler keeps you dry, but the top of the 'bus is the place for us to see the coves go by. i advise you not to give that little book to your children, as it will induce them to ride on the top of a 'bus instead of taking a cab. _cabmen's dinner, newport, november th, ._ [illustration: "_fast women and slow horses._"] i have never been able to find out exactly why the cabmen's dinner is fixed for guy fawkes' day. i have looked up guy fawkes' pedigree, and i cannot find that he ever drove a growler or even a hansom cab. then i thought it might have something to do with inkerman day, which is all upset nowadays, as you know. inkerman was always called a soldiers' battle, because it was so foggy that the generals could not see what they were doing. i have an idea that it must have been a cabmen's battle, and that it was cabmen who fought at inkerman or commanded at inkerman. speaking of cabmen, i think that they are like lord rosebery's dukes--poor, but honest. this is not an epoch-making dinner; it is not even a record dinner. "epoch-making" and "record-making" are terms which are frequently used now-a-days, and i wish people would give them a rest for a time. i remember a young gentleman who came into a fortune and very soon got through it because his company was very indifferent, he being very fond of racecourses and other iniquities of that sort. he went through the bankruptcy court, and when asked how he accounted for getting rid of his fortune so quickly, he replied, "fast women and slow horses." now i think cabmen would probably make a profit out of fast women and slow horses. one of you will take a very fine lady to caerleon racecourse next week, and, having a slow horse, will take two hours to do the journey, and charge a two hours' price. but i always like this society for one particular reason, namely, it has no small societies belonging to it. there is no cabmen's football club to write and ask you for a subscription. so far as i know, there is no cabmen's band, or other small institutions of which we have so many in every other circle of society. there is no cabmen's congress, and no cabmen's conferences and that is a great merit in the society, because i know that when i have done one thing, i have done all that i shall be required to do. _cabmen's dinner, november th, ._ talks to licensed victuallers. although the devil is not as black as he is painted, i hope neither i nor any other gentleman present bears any resemblance to his satanic majesty. the scythians, it is reported, first debated things when drunk, and then whilst sober, and perhaps at the end of this gathering i may be able to form a better opinion of the members of the newport corporation. _mayor's banquet, newport march th, ._ a few months ago, in the silly season, "the times" had about a couple of columns of letters from people discussing the uses and abuses of drink. i read the letters carefully, and came to the conclusion that there was a lot to be said on both sides. an octogenarian of wrote to say that his eyesight, hearing, and teeth were all sound, and that he had not tasted spirituous liquors in his life. shortly after, another octogenarian of , in addition to claiming the healthy condition of the previous writer, spoke of intending matrimony. he, however, said his memory was not so good as it was, but, so far as he could recollect, he had never been to bed sober in his life. after reading the first letter, i thought it was a "clincher," and went to bed without my usual brandy and soda, saying there would be no more licensed victuallers' dinners for me. when, however, i read the second letter, i changed my mind about the dinner. it has been said that life is not all beer and skittles, but it is a good thing to have something to drive away the depression which occasionally visits every one who has arrived at manhood. _licensed victuallers' dinner, cardiff, march th, ._ in the old days barons drank strong ale. the barons would have their liquor strong, and local veto at that time would have meant loss of licensed victuallers' heads. some people may wonder why i so persistently attend the licensed victuallers' association meetings--for i do attend regularly. i will tell you why, in a few words, if you will not tell anybody else. there is a clause in the family settlements that compels me to do it. i endeavour to act up to those settlements. _licensed victuallers' dinner, newport, march th, ._ i am not surprised that members of parliament are rather shy of going to licensed victuallers' dinners. they have to be very careful of what they say. words, it has been said, are given to conceal thoughts. after dinner, sometimes, thoughts get the mastery of words, and members of parliament have to think a good deal of the future. they have to ponder over the teetotal vote, and they have to be very careful that they do not offend the licensed victuallers. the difference as regards the members of the house of lords is this--they do not worry themselves about the teetotal vote, and they do not care a _darn_ for the licensed victuallers. a certain number of people think they can arrange everything satisfactorily upon an arithmetical principle. the latest fad is "one man one vote." if you do not take care it will be one man one glass. i would like to know how that could be arranged on arithmetical principles satisfactorily. there are a few other burning questions which i have never yet seen satisfactorily answered. one is 'what is home rule?' and the other is 'have you used pear's soap?' until we can find satisfactory answers to these, i think that legislation in regard to licensed victuallers will be quiet for a bit. i have never considered it necessary to apologise for dining with licensed victuallers. if there are any who think that in dining with that company i am stepping down from a pedestal on which i ought to remain, all i can do is to answer them in the beautiful motto of the order of the garter, "honi soit qui mal y pense." _licensed victuallers' dinner, cardiff, february th, ._ [illustration: "_if there are any who think that i am stepping down from a pedestal._"] cakes and ale. for my own part, i cannot see how the country could get on without licensed victuallers. some years ago when a frenchman wanted to describe an english country gentleman, he said he was one of those who, whenever he had nothing to do, suggested to those about him that they should go out and kill something. [illustration: "_if a time arrived when there were no more cakes and ale._"] there is a type of politician who, whenever he has nothing to do, says "let us go and abolish something." if this type had its way it would abolish the lord mayor's show and barnum's white elephant. i do not think the country would be one whit happier if a time arrived when there were no more cakes and ale. _licensed victuallers' dinner, january th, ._ the great land tyrant. i am now like the old man of the sea--someone you ought to get rid of. i am a great land tyrant. if you want a bit of land you can't get it. if you want a piece for a recreation ground you can't get it. if you want a piece for a church you can't get it. if you want a piece for a school you can't get it. if you want a place for any other amusement or for athletic grounds you can't get it. why? because it belongs to lord tredegar. so if you treat me like jonah, and throw me overboard, perhaps it would be much better for you. _conservative association meeting, newport. august th, ._ two lord tredegars. it appears to me sometimes that there are two lord tredegars.... most of you have been children at some time or other, and so most of you, i am happy to think, are acquainted with nursery rhymes. there is one which, probably, a great many of you have heard of. it is about an old lady with a basket who was going to market. she laid down on a bank and went to sleep, and a pedlar passing by, for some reason or other, cut her petticoats considerably above her knees. when she awoke the first thing she said was, "surely, this is not i." and sometimes, when he awoke in the morning, and saw what was said about lord tredegar, he was inclined to make the same remark, "surely, this is not i." when i read of a lord tredegar who is trying to reap what he has not sown, who binds his tenants down to covenants which do not exist, and who exacts the uttermost farthing from his miserable tenants, i think sometimes there must be two lord tredegars. _tredegar show, november th, ._ [illustration: "_surely, this is not i!_"] the trials of benefactors. [illustration: "_i have lately started a store in the village._"] the other day a friend of mine was in much the same position as i am to-night. he owned a large estate in the neighbourhood, and he was asked to preside at a meeting of the candidate who was going to come forward. i asked him afterwards if the meeting was successful. "oh, yes," he replied, "it was fairly successful, but they began to find out my failures and shortcomings." i said, "what have they found out about you?" the reply was, "i have lately started a store in the village, so that the agricultural labourers might have their beef and groceries at cost price. i thought that was rather a good thing to do, but it was far from a good thing in the opinion of my opponents. all the butchers and grocers declared they would make it very hot for me." i am in a somewhat similar position, and i told my friend so. "what have you done?" asked my friend, and i replied, "i have given a public park to the newport people." "what has that to do with it?" "well," said i, "they make out that it has increased the rates." _conservative meeting, newport, february nd, ._ what is a philanthropist? there are moments in a man's life when there is a contest between the lip and the eye, whether we should smile or cry. i am sure you would not like to see me cry just now, but there is a certain amount of sentiment in an affair of this sort. for a person in my position it is rather trying. i feel very much like the little boy you all knew in your nursery stories. the boy had a pie, and "he put in his thumb and pulled out a plum and said 'what a good boy am i.'" that is what i feel now. i suppose i should feel like a philanthropist. you probably all know what a philanthropist is. a philanthropist is an old gentleman, probably with a bald head, and he tries to make his conscience think he is doing good all the while he is having his pocket picked. _in reply to a vote of thanks._ "a splendid fellow." [illustration:"_a philanthropist is an old gentleman, probably with a bald head._"] it has been wisely said that there is nothing a man will not believe in his own favour. well, after the way you praise me i believe i am a splendid fellow altogether. but one's name is not always spoken of with that reverence with which a lord's name ought to be mentioned. still, i suppose there is such a thing as ignorance among men about those who do not live in the same station as themselves, and i always put it down to that. some day or other they may come to find out that what they say against lord tredegar is not all true. _st. mellons' show, september th, ._ naturally a conservative. you will not wonder that i am in a graver mood than is usual on these occasions. for more than years my lamented father occupied this chair, and i believe he was present on every occasion of this kind. in that time, the show has been raised from a very small one to be one of the most important in the country. my father has left me, amongst other possessions, an hereditary trust in the shape of this agricultural show. if i have given any hope that i shall fill the position as my father filled it, i shall feel very much flattered. it is not my intention to make great changes. there is no way of showing disrespect more than in making great changes, turning everything topsy-turvey, as if we knew everything better than those who went before us. i am naturally conservative, and come of a conservative family. i intend to keep to what was good of my late father. i have inherited a great trust in this show, and i hope that in future it will be seen that the show has not lost its prestige, its popularity or its utility. _tredegar show, december th, ._ politics on the brain. everybody now has got politics on the brain. we dream of politics and we almost drink politics--at least, we have been drinking politics to-night. so far as i am concerned, i should like, rip van winkle-like, to go to sleep for the next two months and wake up to find the general election over; only then i should like to wake up to find it had gone the right way. _farmers' dinner, bassaleg, october th, ._ the unruly hound. [illustration: "_i lick him whenever i have the opportunity._"] it is wrong to introduce politics at this dinner, and, in fact, i have no great liking for politics on any occasion, though i do at times have a little to do with them. and i have a little way of my own. i have a most unruly hound in my pack, which i call "radical," and i lick him whenever i have the opportunity. it does the hound good, and at the same time eases my own mind. though i have no great love of politics, i think this is a time, if ever, a member of parliament should feel inclined to speak. there is one subject which must be in everybody's mind, and for the consideration of which everyone must brace himself in the next session--that is "tenant's right." that is a question in which every agriculturist must take a deep interest; and for myself i think meetings of this sort much more likely to promote a goodly feeling between landlord and tenant than the provisions of any act of parliament. _tredegar show, december th, ._ the whoo whoops. i thank you for the way the toast of my health has been received; but i do not quite see the propriety of "whoo whoops" at the end. that is an expression that sportsmen use only when they are about to kill something; i do not see its applicability in the present case. i hope that you do not mean all you have expressed. _tredegar show, december th, ._ m.p.'s as badgers. during the intervals of pigeon pie and boiled beef, i have had the pleasure of a few minutes' conversation with mr. cordes, and from that conversation i have come to the conclusion that a member of parliament holds the same position to the human race that a badger does to the animal race. some people think that the only earthly purpose for which a badger can have been created was that of being baited, and i have an idea that some persons seem to imagine that a member of parliament was created for nothing but that we might bait him. but on this occasion we have been brought together not to bait mr. cordes, but to fête him. _conservative banquet, newport, january th, ._ the honour of being m.p. it is a great honour still, i am sure, to be a member of the british house of commons. lord rosebery, when he was chairman of the london county council, in a speech that he made--and i dare say many of you have been interested in some of lord rosebery's speeches because he has a fund of humour, and very often one is not quite certain whether he is in earnest or in jest--once said that the position of a town councillor is much more important than that of a member of parliament. it is quite possible that an individual member of a county council or a town council may be more important as an individual than a member of the house of commons, but his vote can only mainly affect the locality, whilst the action of a member of the house of commons may not only affect the whole of great britain, but the whole of the british empire. so i venture to think the position of a member of parliament is a little more important than that of a member of a town council or a county council. _monmouthshire county council, february nd, ._ nelson's saying. there still exists in the bosoms of our public men the feeling which animated lord nelson before the battle of the nile, when he said, "to-morrow i shall have either a peerage or westminster abbey." _press dinner, cardiff, may th, ._ the disadvantages of the peerage. [illustration: "_receiving eggs that are not fit for breakfast, and cats that have not received honourable interment._"] there are advantages and disadvantages in belonging to the house of lords. the peers are deprived of the right which other citizens have of standing on the hustings and receiving eggs that are not fit for breakfast and cats that have not received honourable interment. but they have the privilege of british citizens of being roundly abused by those whose talents lay in that direction. _associated chambers of commerce, newport, sept. st, ._ sweeps as peers. [illustration: "_i am acquainted with some sweeps._"] a certain gentleman who certainly thinks that the constitution of the country could be reorganised and set straight at once by a magazine article, says that if the house of lords rejects the home rule bill there is a very simple way to remedy the affair. mr. gladstone will then, he states, collect sweeps and make them peers so as to gain a majority. whether the gentleman intended to insult the sweeps or to insult the house of lords i do not know. i am acquainted with some sweeps. i have always looked upon sweeps in the same way as i look upon licensed victuallers. they are a body of men who are carrying on a very difficult profession with credit to themselves and advantage to the country. moreover, the sweeps with whom i am acquainted are most of them tories, and i shall not be surprised if as soon as those sweeps are collected and made peers, and have washed their faces and put on their coronets and robes, they do immediately range themselves on the opposition side of the house, and do, as most new gladstonian peers do, vote conservative directly they are created. _newport licensed victuallers' dinner, february rd, ._ you cannot please everybody. i have no doubt that if the house of lords were to pass by a large majority the disestablishment of the welsh church in the next session, the welsh party would say the hereditary principle was the only one to be depended upon. on the other hand, if the lords were to pass by a large majority a local veto bill, i have no doubt the licensed victuallers would at once go in for the abolition of the house of lords. _cardiff licensed victuallers' dinner, march th, ._ i am not a landlord myself, but i have strong opinions about the right of property, which i hope, in future legislation, will always be considered. if ever i become a landlord, i hope the interest which i have always felt in the welfare of my respected father's tenants will lead them to suppose that i shall never become such a ruffian as some people would make landlords out to be. _monmouthshire chamber of agriculture, february th, ._ i confess i was much comforted in reading one of those amiable, kind and christian-like speeches for the total suppression of landlords. i looked into the dictionary for the meaning of the word "landlord," and i found it was "a keeper of a public-house." when i read that, my soul was comforted. _newport licensed victuallers' dinner, january th, ._ i have always taken great interest in those who live on my property, it does not matter whether on agricultural land or in the bowels of the earth. a great landowner does not rest on a bed of roses. the loss to a landowner who only owns a small agricultural property, in days of agricultural depression when tenants cannot pay their rent, generally means a few hundred pounds and the reducing of all his expenses. but when it comes to great commercial interests, to owning the land on which our great ironworks, great tinworks, and collieries are situated, and when those interests are depressed, it means not a loss of a few hundreds, but the wiping off of several thousands. and it means occupying themselves night and day in ascertaining how they can help to still carry on those great interests which have employed so many hands, and which are so necessary for the welfare of the population of the district.... a great ironmaster, mr. carnegie, who found it to his best interest to carry on his great works in america, has enunciated a sentiment which appeals to me, to the effect that it is the business of every rich man to die poor. sometimes i feel that will probably be my fate if i go on as i am doing. however, i shall be poor in good company. _presentation to lord tredegar of miners' lamp and silver medal at risca eisteddfod, october th, ._ considerable difficulties attach to the position of a man who happens to own land round a large and increasing town. so many demands are placed before him. there are demands for building sites and for open spaces and public parks. it is difficult, when the land is limited in area, to satisfy all requirements. i hope, in a short time, however, to be enabled to make a present to the town of newport of a public park, one which will not cost much in laying out for use. _mayoral dinner, newport, december nd, ._ it may possibly happen that if the order to which i belong is swept away, i may become a candidate for municipal honours, and perhaps aspire to the civic chair. at present, however, i have my own responsibilities, for i am deeply troubled with what i may term the four r's--rates, roads, royalties, and rents. _mayor's banquet, march th, ._ keep us still our shorthorns. a gentleman who was very fond of writing poetry wrote a couple of lines which might be quoted against him although he has long since joined the majority. he wrote:-- let laws and learning, art and commerce die, but keep us still our old nobility. the last line can be altered as you like, and you can put anything you like for laws and learning, i would say buffaloes or anything else, but keep our shorthorns. in breeding shorthorns a pedigree of a long line of ancestors is indispensable. mr. stratton and myself have tried to work on those lines by breeding the nobility of shorthorns. _stock sale at the duffryn, newport, october th, ._ [illustration: "_i always find great difficulty in obtaining entrance to the dairy competitions._"] interest in dairying. my thoughts are at the moment running on ground rents, royalties and wayleaves, so if i wander from the subject i hope you will forgive me. i cannot regard the subject of dairying without thinking how we would have stood now supposing we had taken up the question as we ought to have done twenty years ago. we would not now be taking a back seat with the foreigners. but i always now find great difficulty in obtaining entrance to the dairy competitions, if i go there casually. whether it is the attractions of the pretty dairymaids inside, or the coolness of the atmosphere, there is certainly very great interest taken in the competitions and that is satisfactory. _monmouthshire dairy school prize distribution, november th, ._ where all classes meet. of all meetings which take place in the course of a year, there are none attended with such universal good as an agricultural meeting, because here all classes can meet, whereas in nearly all other meetings the attendances are of a sectional character. for instance, race meetings--many people think them wrong and never attend them. then there are church extension and missionary meetings--a great many do not like to attend them. but as to agricultural meetings, everybody seems to like to attend them, from the clergy to the racing man, the mechanic, the agricultural labourer, and the meetings must, therefore, promote a deal of harmony among classes. an agricultural meeting is much more effective than the proceedings of messrs. bright and cobden, who are going about preaching a war of classes. _tredegar show, december th, ._ where the agriculturist should study. some excursionists were going around the house of either wordsworth or tennyson--i forget which--and asked a servant where was her master's study. she replied, "here is my master's study, but he studies in the fields." that is the lesson to be learnt in respect to agriculture. _agricultural exhibition, newport, december nd, ._ a blue bottle and a bird. i hope you won't do what i did last time. it was a day very different from this. it was very hot. i saw an animal in the ring that i did not care the least about, and just then a great blue-bottle settled on my nose. the consequence was that i bought the worst animal at a very high price. _stock sale at the duffryn, newport, october th, ._ a limit even to science. [illustration: "_just then a great blue-bottle settled on my nose._"] in regard to scientific agriculture, i am not sure whether we are not rather overdoing things; but there is no doubt that, notwithstanding all the science we have, we have never succeeded in making a cow have more than one calf in a year, or a sheep more than two lambs. that goes to prove that there is a limit even to science in agriculture, and it reminds me of the saying, "you may pitchfork nature out of existence, but she is sure to come back to you." _bassaleg show, october th, ._ an eye for a good pair of horses. some men have an eye for one thing and some for another, but i think if i have a weakness it is to fancy that i have an eye for a good pair of horses, and for a straight line. when i see a line i can judge if it has been ploughed straight, and then i can judge whether the ploughman has had too much. of course, that sort of thing never happens at a ploughing match, but still it is as well to be on the look-out. _farmers' association, bassaleg, october th, ._ as cattle dealer. just before i came to the meeting i had put into my hand a small--a very small--paper in which i am described as a cattle-dealer. but i am not at all ashamed of that. _newport conservative meeting, april th, ._ the best farmer. it was the late lord beaconsfield, i believe, who said that the best educated farmer known spent all his life in the open air, and never read a book. there is a great deal of truth in that, and although science may aid farmers, observation and experience in the proper treatment of land and crops will do much more. _tredegar show, december th, ._ fox-hunting and diplomacy. many people imagine that to be a master of foxhounds you have only to get a horse--but besides the matter of pounds, shillings and pence, you have to create an interest amongst the farmers over whose land you hunt, and whose sheep, pigs and lambs you frighten. one, therefore, has to use a certain amount of diplomacy. _gelligaer steeplechases, april th, ._ nothing tends to brush away the cobwebs so much as a bracing run with the hounds. fox hunting is an admirable sport, and my neighbours shall enjoy it as long as there is a fox to be found on my estate. _at tredegar house, october th, ._ at an athletic club dinner. when i came into the room i expected to find one half of the company on crutches and the other half in splints. i am not at all certain that i am the proper man to be president of this club, because i think that the president of an athletic club should measure at least inches round the chest, and ought to have biceps of inches, and scale at least stone lbs. i am afraid all the dumb bells in the world would not get me up to that. i am what might be called an old fossil, though i cannot boast of the garrulity of old age, and therefore i will not tell you that when i played football i was always kicking the ball out of the ground into the river; or that when i played cricket i always drove the ball into the river. those are facts well known in newport. _first annual dinner of the newport athletic club, april th, ._ hunting. i am always delighted to see any member of the corporation at the meet of my hounds. if they came out horrid radicals they would go back half tories. [illustration: "_i am afraid all the dumb bells in the world would not get me up to that._"] "one touch of nature makes the whole world kin," and there is nothing like a meet in the open country for setting things right between friends and neighbours. _mayor's banquet, newport, january th, ._ a clever satirist has said that nature made the horse and hounds and threw in the fox as a connecting link. in my opinion, fox-hounds and hunting are the connecting links between the landlord and the tenant farmer. [illustration: "_'oh the devil!' i exclaimed. 'no, not the devil,' said the farmer, 'but the fox.'_"] i have made many pleasant acquaintances lately in my hunting expeditions, and i hope we shall always remain on the most amicable terms. but some have astonished me with their argument. said one, "beg pardon, major, i have lost such a sight of poultry." "dear me," i said. "yes, we lost forty ducks the other night." "oh, the devil!" i exclaimed. "no, not the devil," said the farmer, "but the fox." i asked the farmer how he managed to count so many. "well," was the reply, "i had four ducks sitting on ten eggs each; and that made forty." well, the chamber of agriculture has not yet settled the knotty point of "compensation for unexhausted improvements." however, the argument ended in our parting very good friends, as, said the farmer, "i and my landlord have been friends hitherto, and as i hope we shall continue to be." two unprofitable honours. i have the honour to hold two offices which, if i did not enjoy the friendship of the farmers, would be very thorny ones. one of them is that of being a member of parliament for an agricultural county. you will agree with me that, in such a position, if i were not on good terms with the farmer, i would often be on a bed of thorns. the other office i hold is that of master of a pack of hounds. i think also if i were not on good terms with the farmer that would not be a very pleasant position. i do not know that there is any similarity between the two offices, except that neither of them has any salary. i hope and trust that it will be a very long time before the country will be unable to find men willing to do the duties in either capacity without being paid for them. _tredegar show, december th, ._ the happy farmer. a great many people fancy that the farmer lives in a beautiful cottage, with vines climbing over it, that the cows give milk without any milking, that the earth yields forth her fruits spontaneously, and that the farmer has nothing to do but sit still and get rich. _tredegar show, december th, ._ equine expressions. our great orators, whenever they want to be more expressive than usual, make use of phrases savouring of horses and carriages. when the grand old man came into power, it was said he would have an awkward team to manage. again, when a great division was expected some time ago, and there were doubts as to which way two gentlemen would go, it was said that mr. fowler had kicked over the traces and that mr. saunders would jib. equine expressions are quite in the fashion. _may horse show dinner, may th, ._ kindness to animals. my experience of life is that a man who loves horses is a good member of society. a man who is kind to his horses is kind to everyone else. i belong to a four-in-hand club, two of the leading members, lord onslow and lord carrington, being close personal friends of mine. a relative of lord onslow once wrote: "what can tommy onslow do he can drive a coach and two; can tommy onslow do no more yes, he can drive a coach and four." yet lord onslow and lord carrington are something more than splendid whips; they are highly successful governors of british dependencies. _may day horse show dinner, march nd, ._ talks on education. i have been delighted to hand so many prizes to lady pupil teachers, and i recall the philosopher who once said, "all that is necessary is that a girl should have the morals of an angel, the manners of a kitten, and the mind of a flea." but after this distribution one cannot go away with the impression that the female mind is only the mind of a flea. _pupil teachers' prize distribution, january th, ._ we have been informed, to-night of different foreign educational systems, the german, the french, and the american, which we are generally told in this country we ought to copy. in the french system there is too much centralization. every teacher, whether at a university or at a small elementary school, is simply a government official. the german system is a splendid one, but it is all subsidized by government. the english government is not generous enough to do that for english schools, so we can hardly hope to copy the german system. then there is the american system. that is also certainly splendid, but unfortunately we have no great millionaires in england who will help us to copy the american system. it has been said that when an englishman becomes a millionaire, and he feels that he is nearing his end, he thinks--to use a sporting expression--that it is time to "hedge for a future state." then he builds a church. the american millionaire founds a university, or leaves large sums of money for a training college, and i think he is right. _technical school prize distribution, newport, december rd, ._ sir william preece has said that there were five new elements discovered within the last century. there were others undiscovered, and it only remained for some student to discover one of them to make himself famous, and, like xenophon, return to find his name writ large on the walls of his native town. a celebrated poet once declared-- "you can live without stars; you can live without books, but civilized man cannot live without cooks." some people may be able to live without books and only with cooks. but without science and books we should not have had our empire. books and science help us to keep up the empire. it is for these reasons that i do what i can to encourage technical and scientific education. _school of science and art prize distribution, december th, ._ you can be quite certain that no hooligan ever attended an art school. the intelligence and refinement of manners brought about by the study of sculpture, painting, and architecture have more to do with the stopping of drunkenness than any other teaching you could think of.... the charm of these art schools for me lies in the fact that we are always expecting something great, just as a fisherman at a little brook, where he has never caught anything much larger than his little finger, is always expecting to hook some big monster. in these art schools i am always expecting some great artist or sculptor turned out--somebody from newport schools--not only a credit to himself but to any town, somebody who will become a second millais or a great sculptor. newport has improved a good deal of late years, and i am sure the study of painting and architecture has had much to do with it. in looking over some old papers in the tredegar archives the other day, i came across a description by two people who passed from cardiff through newport about years ago. they said: "we went over a nasty, muddy river, on an old rotten wooden bridge, shocking to look at and dangerous to pass over. on the whole this is a nasty old town." _school of science and art prize distribution, december th, ._ sir john gorst has made reference to the indisposition of the territorial aristocracy to encourage high intellectual attainment. i think "territorial aristocracy" is rather an undefinable term, and perhaps school children will be asked what it is. i do not think that those who own land are as a class opposed to high intellectual attainment. the county councils to some extent are representative of territorial aristocracy, and of the county councils of england and wales have agreed to spend the whole of the government grant in education. that is a sign that the territorial aristocracy are not averse to intellectual attainment. perhaps colonel wallis will ask some of the children in the school what the meaning of "territorial aristocracy" is. i read that when a child was asked what the meaning of the word yankee was, the reply was that it was an animal bred in yorkshire. _opening of the school board offices, newport, march th, ._ victor hugo once said that the opening of a school means the closing of a prison. that is very true, regarded as an aphorism, and i wish it were true in reality, because there would not be any prisons left in england. _opening of intermediate schools, october th, ._ i am pleased that technical schools are taking such a firm hold in the town. i feel more and more that the teaching of art is doing a great deal of good. there is a great improvement in the tastes of the people, shown by the architectural beauty of their residences and in decorations generally. i was very much surprised a short time ago at reading a strong article by "ouida"--whose novels i have read with a great deal of interest--on the ugliness of our modern life. she certainly took a very pessimistic view of the matter and seemed to look only at the workaday part of the world--at the making of railways, the knocking down of old houses, and the riding of bicycles. i do not see that those things come under the title of art. one of the objects of instruction at the art schools is to induce students to create ideas of their own. at the same time i do not think you could do much better than study the old masters, than whose works i do not see anything better amongst modern productions. the great silver racing cups given away now, worth from £ to £ , do not compare with the handiwork of italian and venetian silver workers. i have some pieces of plate in the great cellar under tredegar house which i do not think it possible to improve upon. _school of science and art prize distribution, newport, january th, ._ one or two little incidents in my own experience lately shew the value of studying some particular trade or science or some form of art. only the other day i met a young lady at a country house. before i had seen her a few minutes she remarked: "i suppose you don't remember me, lord tredegar?" if i had been young and gallant, it would have been natural for me to have replied: "such a face as yours i am not in the least likely to forget." but i thought i was too old for that, and merely said that i did not remember at the moment having met her previously. the young lady then informed me that she had received a prize at my hands at a great school, and that in handing her the prize i had remarked, "you have well earned the prize, and it is a branch of art that, if continued, will prove very useful in after life." that branch of art had enabled her to take the position she then occupied. the other incident was that of a young man who had been left by his parents very poor. he had the greatest difficulty in getting anything at all to do, because he had never made himself proficient in any particular trade or science. i agree with the man who said one should know something about everything and everything about something. _school of science and art prize distribution, newport, december th, ._ it has been well said, i forget by whom, but i think it was dr. johnson, that you can do anything with a scotsman, if you catch him young. i think you can say just the same of the welshman or the monmouthshire man. _newport intermediate boys' school, november th, ._ one day i accompanied a young lady to her carriage on leaving a public function at which i had officiated. the band struck up a martial air, and i stepped actively to the time of the music. remarking to the young lady that the martial air appealed to an old soldier, she said, "why, lord tredegar, were you ever in the army?" that is the reason why i think we should have memorials and why i shall be very glad to have this picture in my house. _on the occasion of the presentation of a portrait of his lordship's statue in cathays park, cardiff, september th, ._ the commander of the french army said of the balaclava charge that it was magnificent, but that it was not war. i do not know what the french general called war, but my recollection of the charge is that it was something very nearly like it. i have to thank the power above for being here now, fifty-five years after the charge took place. whether this statue will commemorate me for a long time or not is of little moment, but i know it will commemorate for ever the sculptor, mr. goscombe john. _unveiling of equestrian statue of viscount tredegar in cathays park, cardiff, on th anniversary of the balaclava charge, october th, _ the archÃ�ology of monmouthshire. anyone who lives in monmouthshire, a county rich in its old castles, churches, camps, and cromlechs, cannot fail to be some sort of an archæologist, and it is this mild type i represent. i have always had a great fancy for history, and anyone who studies the archæology of monmouthshire must be well grounded in the history of england. the county has held a prominent place in history from the earliest period down to the present day, commencing with the silures, and passing on to the romans, saxons, and normans. some locality or other in the county was connected with each of those periods. one little failing about archæology which has always been a sore point with me is that it is apt to destroy some of those little illusions which we like to keep up. i hope when we go to caerwent, during the next day or two, my illusion concerning king arthur will not be dispelled, for i love to think of king arthur and his round table having been at that place. alexander wept because there were no new worlds to conquer, but i hope archæologists will not weep because there are no new ruins to be discovered. an old stone has been picked up on the moors at caldicot, and scientific men know that the stone proves the marches to have been reclaimed from the sea by the romans. the question of the origin of roman encampments is one about which there is a great deal of doubt, and i hope to hear some new story when we inspect the ancient part in tredegar park. _fourth annual meeting, cambrian archæological association, august th, ._ monmouthshire still welsh. in the reign of henry viii, monmouthshire was annexed to england, and therefore we are not now exactly in wales. but years have not eradicated the welsh language and the welsh traditions. _farmers' association dinner, bassaleg, october rd, ._ freedom of morgan brotherhood. i take my opinion of freedom from dr. samuel johnson, and that is good enough for me. dr. johnson said that freedom was "to go to bed when you wish, to get up when you like, to eat and drink whatever you choose, to say whatever occurs to you at the moment, and to earn your living as best you may." [illustration: "_i talk of buccaneer morgan._"] the lord mayor has hoped that he will prove to be a member of the tredegar family. the name of morgan is a splendid name. you can, with that name, get your pedigree from wherever you like. whenever i talk of bishops, i remember to speak of bishop morgan. if i speak to a football player, i talk of buccaneer morgan, and so it goes on in any subject you wish. i do not care--even if there is a great murder--a morgan is sure to be in it! i do not wish to detract from the lord mayor's desire to be in the pedigree, but, at all events, we can all belong to a morgan brotherhood. _reply to toast of "our guest," at city hall, cardiff, october th, ._ when the agitation for the new technical institute was going on, i daresay most of you heard all sorts of objections to it on the ground of expense and of there being no necessity for an institute of this description. some of the agitators went back to solomon. they said, "solomon was the wisest man who ever lived, and he has told us that 'he who increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.' so why," said they, "do you want to have more knowledge?" another objector said, "a little knowledge is a dangerous thing," and then somebody else said, "of the making of books there is no end," and "much study is a weariness of the flesh." all those old sayings were trotted out, but there was the other side to bring before you. there was the dear old lady who was so proud of her son--he was a kind of artist--that she thought he would become a second gainsborough. he got on very well, as she thought, and one day, meeting his professor, she said, "oh, professor, do you think my son will ever learn to draw?" and he replied, "yes, madam, if you harness him to a wagon." happily, newport went the right way, and built what i fancy is quite one of the most up-to-date technical institutions in the country. _technical institute prize distribution, newport, december st, ._ it is very difficult to address a mixed school of boys and girls. you require totally different things for boys and girls. a learned gentleman was once asked his ideal of a girl, and he replied, "most like a boy." asked his ideal of a boy, he replied, "only a human boy who dislikes learning anything." i was a human boy myself once, about years ago, and i hated learning anything except running about and making myself disagreeable to everyone. my experience of girls is that girls want to learn when a boy doesn't. a girl is nearly always anxious to learn, whilst a boy only wants to amuse himself. a great m.p. gave an address about education a week or so ago, and said our system was all wrong, that facts were no use, and that thinking was what they wanted. i totally disagree with him. facts are wanted, for it is from facts you get on to thinking. one examiner was much amused by the notion of a boy who said that what struck him most was the toughness of wood, the wetness of water, and the magnificent soapiness of soap. that boy was going to get on; he was thinking more about facts than anything else. [illustration: "_he was what they called 'a devil of a chap to jaw.'_"] another great school question is with regard to punishment, whether it is good to order a boy or girl to write out a certain number of lines or learn so many lines of poetry. a well known gentleman of the world, politically and otherwise, when at school was what they called "a devil of a chap to jaw." that was the expression of a fellow pupil. he was constantly in the playground jawing, and they sentenced him to run around the ground five times when he spoke for more than three minutes. that was supposed to cure him, but it did not. he speaks now more than anyone in the house of commons. _pontywaun school prize distribution, march th, ._ a hybrid county. we in monmouthshire are in a sort of hybrid county. a great many people think we are in wales and a great many people think we are not. cardiff is very jealous of us--jealous because we can get drunk on sundays and they can't. i hope we shall continue to be a county of ourselves, and when this great home rule question, which is so much talked about, is settled we shall, no doubt, have a parliament at newport-on-usk, or else at monmouth-upon-wye. _newport athletic club dinner, april th, ._ interest in exploration. i wish to renew interest among the people of the neighbourhood in the exploration work at caerwent. the reason, perhaps, why some of the interest has fallen off, is the illness and death of the late vicar of caerwent, who always took the greatest possible delight in explaining to visitors the history of the ancient city and the nature of the work of excavation. there is a great deal of fresh ground to be explored. i am glad to find that there is an increasing interest in great britain in this kind of work, and i hope it will continue to increase. if we expect to find any interest at all in matters of this kind, it would be in rome, and yet we find that in that city it has been decided recently to pull down some of the most valuable remains in the city, the great roman wall, which for so long a period kept out the goths and the vandals who besieged the city. if that is possible in rome, any indifference to this kind of work in great britain is not surprising. there is a fascination about the work of exploring, as we are always expecting to find something which has not been found before, and which may be very useful for historical purposes. all this part of the world is very interesting, not only caerwent, but llanvaches, where we find early christian evidences, and newport, where we have a castle of the middle ages. i cannot help thinking, when i look at the collection of roman coins in the caerwent museum, that it is not absolutely impossible that one of them may be the very coin which our saviour took and asked whose image it bore. for all we know, that very coin may have been in the possession of a roman soldier stationed in jerusalem at the time of the crucifixion, and brought by him to caerwent. _newport town hall, on the occasion of a lecture on "the excavations at caerwent," march th, ._ oliver cromwell and newport. there are few newportonians in this hall who do not remember perfectly well the curious little house, with a low th century portico, situated at the bottom of stow hill. it was regarded with great veneration by antiquarians, but was no doubt looked upon as a great nuisance by the great body of the people. however, that old portico is now treasured at tredegar house. the house was called "oliver cromwell's house." i think you will agree with me when i say that few people slept in so many bedrooms as king charles i. or oliver cromwell is said to have done. there is a room at tredegar house called king charles the first's room, but it was not built until ten years after that monarch was beheaded. with regard to the little house called oliver cromwell's house, there is some reason to believe that oliver cromwell might have occupied it. it was, sometime, occupied by the parliamentary troops, because i have at this moment an old fire back, which was found in the cellar with the royal arms of england and the crown dated -- something knocked off. no doubt this was found in the house by parliamentarians, who immediately proceeded to knock off the crown. we know that oliver cromwell passed that way, because he went to the siege of pembroke and found great difficulty in taking that town. i have a copy of a letter cromwell wrote to colonel saunders, one of his leaders, in which, after congratulating him upon his zeal and close attention, he referred to "the malignants--trevor williams of llangibby castle, and one sir william morgan, of tredegar," and directed him to seize them at once. that shows that oliver cromwell knew all about caerleon, newport and tredegar. _opening of tredegar hall, newport, march th, ._ welsh people even in cardiff. i am glad to find that the welsh church movement has been such a success. i was asked on one occasion if there were many welsh people in cardiff, and i confessed there were. when further asked if there was a welsh church there i had to admit with shame that there was not. from that moment i resolved to back up as much as i could the movement for providing a church for the welsh-speaking inhabitants of cardiff. no one could walk the streets of cardiff without being impressed with the number of welsh people one met and heard talking in their own language. probably a great number of those simply came into the town for the day, but a considerable number must be residents of the town. i see a great many ladies present, and i would urge them to do what they can, for, in the words of a church magnate, who was, if not an archbishop or a bishop, certainly an archdeacon--"mendicity is good, but women-dicity is better." _laying of the foundation stone of a welsh church at cardiff, july nd, ._ the siege of caerphilly castle. [illustration: "_two hundred tuns of wine! that is better than a temperance hotel._"] i am impressed by the energy displayed by the agriculturists of the district in sending such satisfactory exhibits. at the same time, you must not fancy yourselves quite too grand at the present day, because, if you read history you will find that during the siege of caerphilly castle, some or years ago--when the castle was taken--there were , oxen, , cows, , sheep, horses, , pigs and tuns of wine inside the castle walls. two hundred tuns of wine! that is better than a temperance hotel.... if you walk round this show you will not see one single sign of depression. it grows larger every year. cattle grow better, the horses better, the women grow prettier, and the men grow fatter. _east glamorgan agricultural show, caerphilly, september th, ._ gwern-y-cleppa. the foundations of gwern-y-cleppa, the palace of ivor hael, have been traced around a tree in cleppa park. although it has been termed a palace, i think it more likely to have been something of a manor house, for ivor was the younger son of a younger son, and therefore not likely to have had very large possessions. ivor's generous nature has been well depicted by his celebrated bard, dafydd ap gwilym. i have read in a book an account of an incident which tradition alleges took place near the spot on which we are standing. this was a contest between dafydd and his rival bard, rhys meigan. dafydd's shafts of satire overwhelmed his opponent, who fell dead--the victim of ridicule. _cardiff naturalists' visit to gwern-y-cleppa, may th, ._ in praise of eisteddfodau. as long ago as the th century an ancestor whom i have been reading about lately--ivor hael--appears to have been celebrated particularly for his support of the eisteddfodau of that period and of music in general. later on, my grandfather and father always did their best to promote the idea of the eisteddfod, and on several occasions presided at those gatherings. i, personally, consider the eisteddfod a great institution. one of the reasons why many of our english friends do not support eisteddfodau, and are inclined to speak slightingly of them, is because of the religious side which commences with the gorsedd; but i think if our friends paid a little more attention to it, and attended oftener, they would not be inclined to ridicule the institution. an eisteddfod, anywhere, is a very interesting event, but one at pontypridd seems to be of all others the most interesting. pontypridd itself is full of reminiscences of old and modern wales. on that very stone--the rocking stone--on the hill where some of us have been to-day, some very earnest bards, no doubt, at different times had their seats, and it does not require a very vivid imagination to picture on that stone one of those unfortunate bards that were left after the massacre of the bards of edward. then we have not far away the remains of the old monastery of pen rhys, where tradition says rested ap tudor, or at all events to whom the monastery was erected. at that very place, that great terror of england and of the normans--owen glendower--who was at that time residing at llantrisant, was stated to have presided at an eisteddfod soon after his incursion into wales. great bardic addresses were delivered there, and one, written to sir john morgan of tredegar, is now in the archives of tredegar. coming to later times, we have cadwgan of the battleaxe, who was supposed to have been sharpening his battleaxe at the time he was going down the rhondda, so that it must have been pretty sharp by the time he arrived at his destination. [illustration: "_there is at the present moment a wave of music-hall melodies passing over the country._"] there is at the present moment a wave of music-hall melodies passing over the country, and i think it is one of the duties of the eisteddfodau to try to counteract the music-hall fancy, now so prevalent. not many days ago, i was reminded of an incident in which a lady asked a friend whether he was fond of music, and he replied "yes, if it is not too good." unfortunately, that is the opinion of about one-half of the civilized world. the aim of the eisteddfod is to patronise good music which, combined with high art, has a tendency, as the latin poet puts it, to soften manners and assuage the natural ruggedness of human nature. _eisteddfod, pontypridd, july st, ._ miniature eisteddfodau, one of which we are celebrating, are most interesting, as being a sort of prelude to the great national eisteddfod which takes place annually. there is something peculiarly interesting in these essentially welsh gatherings, because however much we who live on this side of the rumney may, from legislative causes, be considered english, we never hear of an eisteddfod taking place on the other side of offa's dyke, which in my opinion is the boundary of wales. offa's dyke was formerly a great mound and ditch erected by king offa somewhere in the year or thereabouts, as a boundary between wales and england, and it ran from the mouth of the wye to chepstow. we seldom hear of an eisteddfod taking place on the other side of the dyke. it is true there are the great choral festivals, but those are festivals held in the grand cathedrals, at which very grand company assemble, and where some of the most celebrated singers sing; they are not competitive in any sense. here we have competitions, not so much for the prizes as for the honour of the thing, for the honour of the welsh nation, and for the advancement of music and art in wales. _risca, october th, ._ tredegar house. tredegar house is generally believed to have been designed by inigo jones, but it was not built until after that architect's death. it was built by william morgan, and finished about . a residence formerly stood on the spot, which leland mentioned as "a fair place of stone." owen glendower, when he ravaged wentloog, and destroyed houses, churches and newport castle, probably destroyed tredegar house. on an inquisition being taken after this period of the value of the lordship, the return was _nil_. _cambrian association meeting, august th, ._ a little family history. [illustration: "_i have made the discovery that the morgans were never remarkable for very great talent._"] as far as i have been able to read the family history, i have made the discovery that the morgans were never remarkable for very great talent; but for many generations we have lived in much the same spot, and it has been our motto to make life happy to those around us, and to assist those with whom we come in contact. i believe my family have lived for this object. there are many days in the history of the family that are much treasured by us, but there will be no one day more honoured than the memory of this one. when i hand these addresses to lady tredegar, and express to her the kind sentiments everyone has made use of as to the memory of the late lord tredegar, we shall one and all be thankful, and the memory of this day will live long in the heart of every member of the tredegar family. _tredegar memorial corn exchange, newport, september th, ._ the mayor has spoken of the commercial spirit which, he stated, has recently been evinced by the tredegar family. his worship in that respect erred a little, for several hundred years ago there was a gentleman who called himself merchant morgan. he sailed on the spanish main, and brought back with him a great deal of money which he had made in trade--or otherwise. from that day to this, the morgans have been very well off. later, there were ironworks in tredegar park, carried on by sir william morgan. those works paid also, and when he had money enough sir william morgan removed them away, restored the green fields, and left other people to attend to the works. _mayoral banquet, newport, december th, ._ sir henry morgan played an important part in the stirring drama of empire-building. his name has become a household word, and his daring exploits on the spanish main in the th century rival in song and story the heroic adventures of drake, frobisher, and hawkins. it is mainly to him that we own the island of jamaica, the most wealthy of our west indian possessions. he was not a plaster saint, it is true; but it is incorrect to call him a pirate, for there is no gainsaying the fact that all his actions were justified by instructions he received from time to time from his monarch, charles ii, who countenanced every movement of his, and even empowered him to commission whatever persons he thought fit, to be partakers with him and his majesty in his various expeditions and enterprises. he was cruel in the ordinary sense of cruelty exercised in warfare, no doubt, but only when in arms against the blood-thirsty spaniards. as a leader of men he was never surpassed by any captain of the seas, and in his glorious conquest of panama--which the great sir francis drake in had failed to take with , men when the city was but poorly fortified--sir henry ransacked it in when it had become doubly fortified, having with him only , men, and without the aid of any pikemen or horsemen. the charges of cruelty and rapacity levelled against him are beneath contempt and criticism. the spaniards tortured and murdered wholesale, and who can wonder that the heroic welshman made just reprisals, and carried out the biblical adjuration "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," when punishing the apostles of the inquisition and assassination. it is due to one john esquemeling, the author of the first account of buccaneers, "the history of the buccaneers of america," first published in , that sir henry was designated a "pirate." esquemeling had served under morgan, and, being dissatisfied with the share of prize money allotted to him after the expedition at panama, nursed his revenge until his return to holland some years after. sir henry took action against him, and claimed to obtain substantial damages from esquemeling for his malicious and misleading statement. the late colonel morgan. the death of my brother, colonel morgan, has plunged us into grief, and all the neighbourhood felt the death of one whom they all loved, almost as much as i did myself. i feel that life can never be the same to me again. _servants' ball, january th, ._ [illustration: "_the death of my brother, colonel morgan, has plunged us into grief._"] the monmouthshire tribute. [illustration: "_what have i ever done to deserve this tribute._"] some years ago two statesmen were discussing the merits of mr. pitt and mr. fox. the first statesman said the oratory of mr. pitt was remarkable because he was never at a loss for a word. the other statesman replied, "yes, but mr. fox was never at a loss for the right word." i, this afternoon, cannot find the right word. i can hardly find any word at all to express adequately to you what i feel on this occasion. i have put this question to myself many times in the last month or so--"what does it all mean? what have i ever done to deserve this great tribute?" i thought that my duty was to go back over my past life, and i began very early, a very long time ago. i went back to the chartist riots. i don't suppose there are any of you here who know much about them except by hearsay. i was a very little boy at the time, spending my holidays at ruperra castle, and i was just going with my little terrier to hunt a rabbit that had got into the cabbage garden, when the post-boy, who had been sent to newport to bring out the letters, rode in, pale and quivering, and flung himself from his pony and said that the chartists were in newport--"they are lying dead all over the street, and the streets were running with blood. he passed through a lot of people with swords and pikes, but whether they were coming on to ruperra he did not know." what he effectively did was to pose as a great hero among the maid-servants, and i remember afterwards going up to the post-boy, saying, "bother your chartists; come out and help me to catch this rabbit." that was my first beginning in sport--my first excitement. then i thought a little bit more. i have a distant recollection that very soon after, i was gazetted as a viscount. i saw in a newspaper which does not hold the same opinions as i do, the question, "what on earth is lord tredegar made a viscount for?" and the answer was, "i suppose because he has been master of the tredegar hounds for years." i thought, therefore, that i had better leave sport alone for this occasion. for some time i have had running in my mind a stanza written by one who may be called the australian bush poet, mr. l. gordon, a gallant man, who spent most of his time roughing it in the bush. the lines are as follows:-- i've had my share of pastime, i've had my share of toil, it is useless now to trouble. this i know; i'd live the same life over if i had the chance again and the chances are i'd go where most men go. mr. gordon thought he knew where most men go; i don't. i don't pretend to know, but i had thought, until lately, that i would not wish to live the same life over again. but now, when i am here this afternoon, and have received from the hands of so many of my greatest friends these magnificent testimonials of their opinion of me, i can hardly go wrong if i say i would live the same life over if i had to live again. well, when i went on with my early history, i found that very, very soon i got among tombstones and family vaults, and i thought that the less i called to mind those among whom i spent my early life the happier it would be for me, certainly on this occasion. but still i wonder what it is that i have done, that has caused so many of my friends and neighbours to gather together to present me with this great tribute of their affection and respect. it is true that i have had more than my share of this world's goods. there is one thing that has always comforted me when this has been thrown in my teeth, and that is that it was a young man who went away sorrowfully because he had great possessions. i believe i have tried, more or less successfully, to help those in difficulties, and to give to many comfort and happiness who otherwise would have been in much distress and suffering; but i am quite sure that there is no person in this hall who would not have done exactly the same under the same circumstances. i have no doubt that i shall be able to find a place in tredegar house for this picture. it will, i hope, be a monument in tredegar house to help those who come after me to try and do some good in their generation with the wealth which may be at their disposal. i thank you from the very bottom of my heart for this great tribute you have paid me. _this speech was made in december, , in acknowledgment of monmouthshire's tribute to lord tredegar, which took the form of an oil painting of himself, a gold cup, an album, and £ , , which his lordship handed over to various hospitals._ the jubilee of queen victoria. we are about to celebrate the queen's jubilee, not so much because her majesty has merely reigned fifty years, but because she has reigned years in the hearts of her people. _county meeting with reference to queen victoria's jubilee, newport, february th, ._ the late queen victoria. the expression of the country's appreciation of the character of her late majesty has been done grandly and well. statesmen on both political sides have told of their experience of her, not merely their opinion, but the result of the interviews they have had with her. all classes have borne testimony to her goodness and greatness. we, as humble subjects of her majesty, knew her sympathetic qualities. everybody present has benefitted in some way directly or indirectly through her. i think of the line which says--"one touch of nature makes the whole world kin." it was the touch of nature in her character, and her sympathizing feelings, which have made the whole of the civilized world, and much of the uncivilized world, mourn on this occasion. _monmouthshire county council, february th, ._ the late king edward. it has been well said by a poet that "fierce is the light that beats upon the throne." since those words were written the light beating upon the throne has become ten times more powerful, but in the case of king edward that fact has only tended to emphasise his majesty's charm of life and of personality, and the power of his will, which have benefitted not only this country but the whole civilised world. _usk quarter sessions, june nd, --in moving a vote of condolence on the death of king edward._ the penny whistle of republicanism. there never was a time when the country was more loyal. the penny whistle of republicanism which tried to blow its notes some time ago has, i believe, burst itself, for it found no sympathetic echo in the heart of the nation. i believe there is no harder worked man in the united kingdom than the prince of wales. from morning to night he is at the beck and call of somebody or other, and we always find him ready to respond to the calls made upon him. _tredegar show, december th, ._ on pretoria day. we have done our best to publicly recognise the success that has been achieved in the occupation of pretoria, and to do honour to lord roberts and his gallant army. you can tell the kind of man lord roberts is by his despatches. you can depend on it that whenever you read a despatch from lord roberts you are reading what is true, complete and accurate. i hope we shall soon see lord roberts, who is an old and good friend of mine, in newport again. _pretoria day, june th, ._ admiration for american sailors. i have a great admiration for american sailors and the american people generally. when the crimean war broke out, in the summer of , the first soldiers sent out of england were the cavalry regiments, and i went with them. at that time england had been at peace for years, and when war commenced the authorities knew little about the transport of cavalry. we did not go out as a whole regiment in a large liner, and arrive at our destination without the loss of a horse, as would be the case now. we were sent out in troops of or at a time, in small sailing vessels of tons. in the ship in which i sailed the horses were packed in the hold, and when they got to the bay of biscay a violent gale sprang up. in a few hours half a dozen horses broke loose and struggled about in the hold. there was only one american sailor among the crew, and he went down and "calculated" and uttered dreadful oaths. but he had not been down in the hold half an hour before he had all the horses tied up again. ever since then i have had the greatest respect for american sailors. _cardiff eisteddfod, august th, ._ improvements in the army. i always feel some diffidence in returning thanks for the army, since i am no longer in it; but i may add that i am proud to have belonged to it. no gentleman who has been in her majesty's service can look back with other than happy feelings to that time. when i first joined the army, it was not in its present state. many things connected with that service have improved. among others, the social condition of the soldier has been improved. i feel that no individual in this country, however high his position may be, need be ashamed of his connection with the army. at one time, the people of newport knew more about soldiers than now. some time ago i asked the duke of cambridge to send a regiment, or part of a regiment, to newport, and his grace said, in answer to me, that the people would be obliged to stir up a riot in the county if they wished to secure the presence of soldiers! i hope such a contingency will not arise, living as i do in the county. however, his grace promised to do his best in the matter, and i hope we shall soon again have the advantage of a regiment in newport. _dinner to lord tredegar and alexandra dock directors, july th, ._ the boy scout movement. the boy scout movement instructs the boy just at the time when he is between school and a trade, when it would perhaps be better if he stayed a bit longer at school, for the time hangs heavy on his hands; and that is the time when you catch hold of these boys and give them an interest in their country, and an interest in the necessity of having somebody to protect the country. the scouts that i have had any experience of are all boys who seem to have improved in their manners, their ways, and their education very soon after they have joined the boy scouts. _meeting in newport in connection with the boy scout movement, march th, ._ not known here. when the ironworks were started here they received the name of tredegar, and the town itself was also called tredegar. it is rather disagreeable to me at times. i have letters addressed, "lord tredegar, tredegar, monmouthshire." they are sent to tredegar, where they are marked by the postal officials: "not known here; try tredegar park." life's tragedy and comedy. life is said to be a comedy to those who think and a tragedy to those who feel, and as we all feel and think we must meet with a good deal of comedy and a good deal of tragedy. i hope you all have more comedy than tragedy. _presentation to lord tredegar of miner's lamp and silver medal at risca eisteddfod, october th, ._ newport a second liverpool i hope the day is not far distant when newport will be a second liverpool, and maindee a second birkenhead. _tredegar show, december th, ._ oxford and cambridge. i have read somewhere that an oxford man walks about looking as if oxford and the rest of the world belong to him. a cambridge man, on the other hand, walks as if he does not care a--well, does not care two straws who the place belongs to. _seventy-fifth anniversary of st. david's college, lampeter, october th, ._ doctors-old style and new. [illustration: "_the old-fashioned gentleman, who first of all pulled out a watch as big as a warming-pan._"] the owning of a hospital is not a very lively proceeding, but i cannot help giving a few of my reminiscences in connection with doctors. i can go back to the real old-style of doctor; not the present-day smart young gentleman with the radium light in his pocket, but the old-fashioned gentleman who first of all pulled out a watch as big as a warming-pan, and who felt the pulse and asked the patient to put out his tongue, and ended up by saying "haw!" that meant a tremendous lot, for he did not tell any more. i well remember a medical friend of mine saying once that he lived in a land flowing with rhubarb, magnesia, and black draughts. that was the way we were treated as children, and which possibly enabled us to live a long life. _opening of a hospital at abertysswg, october rd, ._ all sorts and conditions. i am one of those who like mixing with all sorts and conditions of men. i can dine with lords and ladies whenever i like, but i cannot always dine with an assembly of working men. _may horse show dinner, may th, ._ [illustration: "_i can dine with lords and ladies whenever i like, but i cannot always dine with an assembly of working men._"] a contrast in correspondence. i have a great deal of correspondence of one sort and another. i keep no secretary, and my correspondence is with all sorts and conditions of men. only this morning, in the hurried moment before i left, i wrote two letters, one to a descendant of warwick the kingmaker, and the other to a little boy living in the back slums of newport about a football match. that is the sort of correspondence i like, for i like to mix with all sorts and conditions of men and do what i can for them. _foundation-stone laying, presbyterian church, newport, august th, ._ dreams and tears. i never remember to have had a dream that was merry. i never remember to have awakened from a dream with a smile or a laugh; but many times have i done so with tears on my cheeks. _bazaar at ystrad mynach, september th, ._ the precipice of matrimony. you have heard things said about matrimony. it is an annual occurrence at this dinner, until i have become like a man who can walk along the verge of a precipice and look down without falling over. i have looked so long without a desire to plunge, that i am able now to look over without any danger of falling. _the tredegar show, december th, ._ how to live for ever. people who regularly study the newspapers come across advertisements of many things calculated to make them doubt whether there is any need for a cottage hospital at all. in fact, as far as i can see, judging by these advertisements, there is no reason why anybody should die. _pontypridd cottage hospital, may th, ._ punctuality "the thief of time." as an old military man, i fully appreciate the value of punctuality. undoubtedly punctuality is the first great duty in this world if we wish to carry on business satisfactorily. there are those who say punctuality is a great mistake, because a deal of time has to be spent in waiting for other people. that is a very pleasant way of looking at an unpunctual individual. _intermediate school prize distribution, october th, ._ no knowledge of kisses. [illustration: "_my brother and i had a fine-looking animal. we used to smoke our cigars as we gazed at it._"] there is no prize worth much that does not take some trouble to gain. i have heard that kisses, when taken without much trouble, are not worth having. of course i do not know anything about that sort of thing. my brother and i had a fine looking animal. we used to smoke our cigars as we gazed at it, and think there was nothing like it in the world. we thought we would send it to birmingham; and then, if any good, to smithfield. it was of no use, however. it reminded me of a celebrated trainer who used to come into this county, who said: "oh, you've nothing at home to try him with. you think your horse goes very fast past trees." i expect it was very much the same thing with our ox. it looked very good alongside the cattle trough. a smart retort. when i had the pleasure of presenting bedwellty park to this town (tredegar) one of my critics asked: "are you quite sure, lord tredegar, that you have not given the tredegar people a white elephant?" that simile did not trouble me, for i told them i was quite sure in a few months the park would be as black as the rest of tredegar. _bazaar at tredegar, may rd, ._ the bushranger's method. [illustration: "_young man, this is a two dollar show._"] just as i came into the hall, i encountered an individual dressed in a rather extraordinary garb. i looked him up and down, and saw that he was well armed. it reminded me of the case of a minister in the backwoods calling on a bushranger to go round with the hat. the latter did so, and the first young man he came to dropped in two or three cents. the bushranger looked at him in a peculiar way, cocked his pistol in a significant manner, and said, "young man, this is a two dollar show." the young man at once dropped in two dollars. i think that perhaps my friend might come round with me presently, we might frighten some of the gentlemen who have come here with full purses. _congregational church bazaar, newport, october nd, ._ making the waist places glad. i have a little advice to give to you in conclusion. a school-boy was being examined in scripture knowledge, and was asked the meaning of the words, "make the waste places glad." he answered, "put your arm around a lady's waist and make her glad." that, i think, is a very good hint for the young men present, and i advise them to make the evening as pleasant as they can for the ladies. to the ladies i would say this--"don't put too much faith in the promise of love that may be whispered in your ears before the close of the ball." _servants' ball, january th, ._ as others see us. a celebrated philosopher has said there are three different personalities about a man. first, there is what god thinks about him; secondly, what his friends think about him; and, thirdly, what he thinks of himself.... there is another personality to be thought of, and that is the opinion of newspapers. it is very difficult to arrange those different personalities, because one's own opinion is entirely different from other people's. i like a gentleman who proposes my health to lay it on thick, as some of it is sure to stick, whether i deserve it or not. _opening of the new hospital, abergavenny, october th, ._ the mighty lord mayor. many people have the impression that the lord mayor of london is the greatest man in this kingdom. there is a line or two in an old song relating to a lover who did not like to pop the question to his girl. he said:-- "if i were a lord mayor, a marquis or an earl, blowed if i wouldn't marry old brown's girl." that represents a great deal of the feeling in this country about the magnificence of the position of the lord mayor of london. _newport conservative meeting, july th, ._ a day of great joy. it is a high honour, because it is the greatest that the lord mayor and corporation have the power of conferring upon anybody. my only drawback is the fear that i cannot be worthy of the others whose names are on the roll of cardiff's freemen. you know that comparisons are odious, and when you read the names on that list and compare mine with them, i hope you will look with leniency upon me. the lord mayor promised me just now that he would not be very long in his address and in his references to me on this occasion. at one moment i felt very much inclined to remind him of his promise, as the great king henry iv did with a lord mayor who went on his knees to deliver the keys of the city. without delivering them he rose from his knees and said, "i have twelve reasons for not yielding up the keys of the city. the first is that there are no keys." the king said, "that is quite enough; we don't want any more reasons." i felt inclined to stop the lord mayor and say, "you have said quite enough about me; i will take the remainder for granted." [illustration: "_i see no reason why i should not be civil to the members of the corporation unless they are uncivil to me. i should probably do then what other people would do._"] i see no reason why i should not be civil to the members of the corporation unless they are uncivil to me. i should probably then do what other people would do. the lord mayor has said that glamorgan could not claim me as a glamorgan man. well, i was born in glamorgan, at ruperra castle, on this side of the rumney. i know that if a man is born in a stable it doesn't make him a horse, but i always understood that the place of your birth had a certain claim upon you. it is not very long ago that i was discussing with somebody what i was going to do in the future, and i quoted the line from shakespeare: "my grief lies onward, but my joy is behind." i think now that i spoke a little too soon, this day being one of great joy to me, as you can easily understand. _presentation of the freedom of cardiff to viscount tredegar, october th, ._ the good old english oath. i never was good at personal abuse. i have got a good old-fashioned oath when i am angry--a good old english oath, good enough for most people--but that is only when i am very angry. and though we have been told that this is the greatest crisis we have ever seen, unfortunately i cannot get angry enough about it to abuse other people. but in the circumstances, if i am put to it, i think i would quote falstaff, who said, "if any part of a lie will do me grace, i will gild it with the heaviest terms i have." _south monmouthshire conservative association, december nd, ._ praise in bucketsful. [illustration: "_if i live a little longer, i should like it in buckets._"] oliver wendell holmes, the celebrated american writer, said that when he was young he liked his praises in teaspoonfuls. when he got a little older he liked them in tablespoonfuls, and later on in ladles. i think i have had a good ladleful this afternoon. if i live a little longer, i should like it in buckets. _cardiff, september th, ._ an easy solution. [illustration: "_i should like the suffragettes to marry the passive resisters and go away for a long honeymoon._"] i have a notion by which we could be relieved of two wearisome questions. i should like the suffragettes to marry the passive resisters and go away for a long honeymoon. _servants' ball, ._ a ready answer. four or five years ago i received a letter from the war office asking how many horses i would put at the service of her majesty in case of emergency. i wrote back and said, "all of them." by return of post i received a letter saying that i had given a very patriotic answer, but that it did not help them in the least; what they wanted to know was how many horses i could put upon the register. i sent back and registered eighteen horses. that was the whole of the tredegar hunt. well, a couple of days ago i received a notice that all of those horses would be wanted. so if the tredegar hunt collapses suddenly, you will know the cause of it. _st. mellons ploughing dinner, october th, ._ welcome. what a beautiful word is the english word "welcome!" what a world of sympathy it expresses! it does not matter whether the welcome comes from a father, mother, brother, or sister, or from the girl of your own heart. it is always the same. i have arrived at the time of life when i can not expect an eye to look brighter when i come, but many eyes are brighter when they fall on these volunteers who left their homes, not when they thought the war was over, but in the time of england's darkest hour. that was the time when our gallant yeomanry and service companies went to assist their country in its distress. they went to redeem again the honour of england, which at one moment looked as if it were rather smirched. they must have seen suffering by disease and bullet wounds, and in other ways, and must have been brought face to face with all kinds of distress, and witnessed the agony of death from disease and bullets. all that tends to make a man more sympathetic to those whom at other times he might be inclined to blame. _presentation to returned volunteers (boer war), rogerstone, july th, ._ the seven ages. i liken myself to shakespeare's "seven ages." i have been the baby, the schoolboy, the lover, and the warrior, and i am now the justice, but unlike the poet's justice, i can not boast of "a fair round belly with good capon lined." having disappointed the poet in one thing, i hope to disappoint him in another, and not to degenerate into a "lean and slippered pantaloon." _servants' ball, january th, ._ a delicate point. [illustration: "_some difficulty might be experienced in getting the ladies to wear the costumes of those districts._"] the bazaar may be described as an "european fair," because the stalls represent most of the nations of europe. the reason for that is that if we went to africa or other dark countries, some difficulty might be experienced in getting the ladies to wear the costumes of those districts. _opening of "world's fair" bazaar, newport, april th, ._ the historic house of lords. it is in itself no great thing to be a lord; in fact, there used to be a saying, "as drunk as a lord." but it is a great thing to sit in the house of lords. that house is an institution which i believe every country wishing for constitutional government has, for the last hundred years, striven to imitate, but without success, and in my opinion they are never likely to succeed, because the house of lords is an institution which, being the growth of centuries, can not be imitated in a day. it is recruited from various classes of society, and it is simply impossible to create a body similar to it all in a moment. in the old days, some three hundred years ago, king james, being in need of money, thought it would be a very good thing to create an extra rank, namely, that of baronet, and he sold baronetcies at £ , a piece, which brought him in a goodly sum of money. anyone applying for a baronetcy was required to show a certain amount of pedigree, proving that he had had a grandfather or something of that sort. now, if his sovereign calls him, there is nothing to prevent any one, having talent and worth, from entering the house of lords, even if he never had a grandfather. great divines, great soldiers, great statesmen, great lawyers, and great engineers, representatives of all the rank and wealth of the country, are to be found in that august body; and i think it is a long time since any expression on the part of the house of lords has been adverse to the general opinion of the country. _licensed victuallers' dinner, january th, ._ finis. western mail, limited, printers, cardiff [illustration: harper's round table] copyright, , by harper & brothers. all rights reserved. * * * * * published weekly. new york, tuesday, november , . five cents a copy. vol. xviii.--no. . two dollars a year. * * * * * [illustration] recaptured. a story of the apache days in arizona. by captain charles king, u.s.a. there was a boy at old camp sandy once upon a time when white men were scarce in arizona, and from the day he was ten years old this boy's consuming desire was to help "clean out," as he heard the soldiers express it, a certain band of mountain apaches that had surprised and slaughtered a small party of people in whose welfare he felt especial interest, for the reason that there was with them a little fellow of his own age. they had sojourned at sandy only three days, and then, deaf to remonstrance, had gone on their way up into the mountains "prospecting"; but during those three days the two youngsters had been inseparable. "sherry" bates, the sergeant's son, had done the honors of the post for jimmy lane, the miner's boy; had proudly exhibited the troop quarters, stables, and corrals; had taken him across the stream to the old ruins up the opposite heights, and told him prodigious stories of the odd people that used to dwell there; had introduced him personally to all the hounds, big and little, and had come to grief in professing to be on intimate terms with a young but lively black bear cub at the sutler's store, and was rescued from serious damage from bruin's claws and clasping arms only by the prompt dash of by-standers. it took some of sherry's conceit out of him, but not all, and the troopers had lots of fun, later on, at the corral, when he essayed to show master jim how well he could ride bare-back, and mounted for the purpose one of mexican pete's little "burros" by way of illustration. all the same, they were days of thrilling interest, and sherry wept sorely when, a week later, a friendly indian came in and made known to the officers, mainly by signs, that the party had been killed to a man, that their mutilated bodies were lying festering in the sun about the ruins of their wagon up near stoneman's lake in the pine country of the mogollon.[ ] the major commanding sent out a scouting party to investigate, and the report proved only too true. the bodies could no longer be identified; but one thing was certain: there were the remains of four men, hacked and burned beyond recognition, but not a trace of little jim. [ ] pronounced mogol_yone_. "it was coyote's band beyond doubt," said the lieutenant who went in command, and for coyote's band the troopers at sandy "had it in," as their soldier slang expressed it, for long, long months--for over a year, in fact--before they ever got word or trace of them. they seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. meantime there had been chase after chase, scout after scout. general crook had been transferred long since to an eastern field, and was busy with the sioux and cheyennes. another commander, one who lacked crook's knowledge of indian tricks and character, had taken charge in arizona, and the apaches had quickly found it out. they made it lively for small parties, and easily kept out of the path of big ones. and this was the way things were going when, one autumn night, signal fires were discovered ablaze away up in the red rock country, and major wheeler sent a troop post-haste to see what it meant; and with this troop went sergeant bates, and on its trail, an hour later, unbeknown to almost everybody, went sherry. indians rarely ventured into the deep valley of the sandy. the boy had hunted jack-rabbits and shot california quail and fished for "shiners" and other inconspicuous members of the finny tribe along its banks, and he knew the neighborhood north, south, and west for miles. eastward, out of sight of the flag-staff he had never ventured. that was towards the land of the apache, and thither his father had told him no one was safe to go. an only son was sherry, and a pretty good boy, as boys go, especially when it is considered that he had been motherless for several years. the old sergeant, his father, watched him carefully, taught him painstakingly, and was very grateful when any of the officers or their wives would help with the lessons of the little man. he had had a pony to ride, but that pony was old when his father bought him from an officer who was ordered to the east, and sherry soon declared him too old and stiff for his use. what he craved was a horse, and occasionally the men let him mount some of their chargers when the troop went down to water at the river, and that was sherry's glory; and on this particular october night he had stolen from his little bed and made his way to the corral, and had got jimmy lanigan, the saddler sergeant's son, now a trumpeter in "f" troop, to saddle for him a horse usually ridden by private mcphee, now sick in hospital of mountain fever. as mac couldn't go, his horse would not be needed, and sherry determined to ride in his place. but some one gave old bates the "tip," and he caught the little fellow by the ear and led him home just before the troop started, and bade him stay there; and sherry feigned to be penitent and obedient, but hugged his father hard, and so they parted. but boys who own dogs know the old dog's trick. sometimes when starting for a day's pleasuring where rover would be very much in the way, the master has sternly ordered him home when, with confident joy, the usually welcome pet and companion came bounding and barking after. you have all seen how sad and crestfallen he looked, how dumbly he begged, how reluctantly he skulked homeward when at last he had to go or be pelted with stones; and then, time and again, he finally turned and followed, a long distance behind, never venturing to draw near, until, so very far from home that he knew he couldn't be sent back, he would reappear, tail on high and eyes beaming forgiveness and assurance, and the battle was won. and sherry had learned rover's little game, and he lay patiently in wait until he knew the troop was gone, then over to the corral he stole, easily coaxed the stable sentry into giving him a lift, and in half an hour he was loping northward along the winding sandy under the starry skies, sure of overtaking the command before the dawn if need be, yet craftily keeping well behind the hindermost, so that his stern old father could not send him back when at last his presence was discovered. for, long before daybreak, the soldiers were trailing in single file, afoot and leading their horses up the steep, rocky sides of the mogollon, taking a short-cut across the range instead of following the long, circuitous route to stoneman's lake, and only a hundred feet or so behind the rear-most of the pack-train followed keen-eyed, quick-eared little sherry, still clinging to his saddle, for his light weight made little difference to such a stocky horse as mcphee's patsy, and trusting mainly to patsy's power as a trailer to carry him unerringly in the hoof-prints of the troop. when at last the sun came peering over the pine crests to the east, the little command was deep down in a rocky cañon, and here the captain ordered halt, lead into line, and unsaddle. the horses and the pack-mules were quickly relieved of their loads, and the men were gathering dry fagots for little cook-fires--fires that must make no smoke at all, even down in that rocky defile, for indian eyes are sharp as a microscope; but before marching on again men and horses both had to have their bite and the men their tin mug of soldier coffee, and here it was that some one suddenly exclaimed, "well, i'm blessed if here ain't sherry!" it was useless for the old sergeant to scold now. the officers promptly and laughingly took the boy's part and declared him "a chip of the old block," and bade the sergeant bring the boy along. it was safer, at all events, than sending him back. and so, secretly proud of him, though openly declaring he would larrup him well the moment they got back to the post, sergeant bates obeyed his captain, and thus it happened that master sherry was with "f" troop the chill october morning, just at dawn, when they found out, entirely to their satisfaction, just what those signal-fires meant. they were not visible from camp sandy, you must understand. indians are too sharp for that. they were started in certain deep clefts in the red rocks which permitted their glare to be seen only from the southeast or the east, the direction from which the roving bands approached when seeking to steal their way back to the old reservation after some bloody foray, sure of food and welcome at the lodges of their friends and fellow-savages, provided they came not empty-handed. coyote's band had not been near the reservation since their exploit of the year before. a price was on the leader's head, but scouting parties away down to the southeast in the chiricahua country had learned that recently coyote with some forty followers had crossed to the north of the gila, and seemed to be making his way back to his old haunts in the mogollon. all this was wired to major wheeler, and wheeler sent some trustworthy apache-mohave scouts out towards the head-waters of chevelon's fork to the east, with orders to watch for the coming of coyote. it was one of these runners who brought in the tidings that the signal-fires were burning, and that meant, "come on, coyote; the coast is clear." and apache confederates, watching from the reservation, twenty miles up-stream, would have said the coast was still clear, for the road to stoneman's lake was untrodden. a day later, to be sure, they got word that a whole troop of horse had gone by night up into the mountains, but it was then too late to undo what they had done--lured coyote many a mile towards his enemies. they sent up "smokes" in the afternoon to warn him, but by that time coyote's people, what was left of them, knew more than did their friends at the reservation. for, early that morning, just at dawn, while some of them were sound asleep in their brush shelters, or "wicky-ups," away on top of a rocky pinnacle that overlooked the country for miles, this is what happened: following the lead of three or four swart, black-haired, beady-eyed apache scouts, the soldiers came stealthily climbing the steep. away down in a rocky cañon they had left the horses and pack-mules, their blankets and, many of them, their boots, and in moccasins, or even stocking feet in a few cases, they noiselessly made their way. officers and all carried the death-dealing little brown cavalry carbine, and thimble belts of copper cartridges were buckled about their waists. "find um top," the leader of the little squad of scouts muttered to the captain, as he pointed the evening before to this distant peak, and well he knew their ways, for only three years before he himself had been a "hostile," and was tamed into subjection by general crook. and so it proved. relying on the far-away night fires, coyote and his weary band had made their brush shelters on the old picacho. the few squaws with them had filled their water-jars at the cañon. two trusty runners had gone on westward to the reservation, and the rest to sleep. coyote thought the white soldiers "too heap fool" to think of making a night march through the mountains instead of coming away around by the old road. with the troop-horses was left a small guard, and with the guard a little boy--master sherry bates--fretting and fuming not a little as he lay there among the rocks, wrapped in his father's blanket, and listening with eagerness unspeakable for the crash of musketry away up on that dimly outlined peak that should tell that his father and the boys had found their foemen and the fight was on. presently, as the eastern sky began to change from crimson to gold, the lofty summit seemed slowly to blaze with glistening fire. the light, still dim and feeble in the jagged ravine, grew sharp and clear along the range, and one of the guard, peering through the captain's binocular, swore he could "see some of the fellers climbing close to the top"; and sherry, though shivering with cold and excitement, rolled out of his blanket and scrambled to his feet. an instant more and, floating on the mountain breeze, there came the sudden crash and splutter of distant musketry, and sherry could control himself no longer. mad with excitement, he began dancing about the bivouac. the men were all listening and gazing. the horses were snorting and pawing. there was no one to hinder the little fellow now. half shrouded by the lingering darkness in the gorge, he stole away among the stunted pines and went speeding as though for dear life up the cañon. the fight itself was of short duration. surprised in their stronghold, the indians sprang to their arms at the warning cry of one haplessly wakeful sentinel. it was his death-song, too, for sergeant bates and the veteran corporal at his side, foremost with the guides, drove their almost simultaneous shots at the dark figure as it suddenly leaped between them and the sky, tumbling the sentry in his tracks, and then, before the startled band could spring to the shelter of surrounding bowlders, the soldiers with one volley and a ringing cheer came dashing in among them. some warriors in their panic leaped from the ledge and were dashed upon the rocks below; some, like mountain-goats, went bounding down the eastward side and disappeared among the straggling timber; some, crouching behind the bowlders, fought desperately, until downed by carbine butt or bullet. some few wailing squaws knelt beside their slain, sure that the white soldiers would not knowingly harm them; while others, like frightened doe, darted away into the shelter of rock or stunted pine. one little indian boy sat straight up from a sound sleep, rubbing his baby eyes, and yelling with terror. another little scamp, with snapping black eyes, picked up a gun and pulled trigger like a man, and then lay sprawling on his back, rubbing a damaged shoulder, and kicking almost as hard as the old musket. and then, while some soldiers went on under a boy lieutenant in charge of the fleeing indians, others, with their short-winded captain, counted up the indian losses and their own, and gave their attention to the wounded; and all of a sudden there went up a shout from sergeant bates, who was peering over the edge of a shelf of rock. "here's more of 'em, sir, running down this way!" followed by a bang from his carbine and a yell from below, and men who reached his side were just in time to see a brace of squaws, dragging two or three youngsters by the hand, darting into the bushes, while their protecting warriors defiantly faced their assailants, fired a shot or two, and then went plunging after. "i know that indian," almost screamed old bates. "it's coyote himself!" "after 'em, then!" was the order, and away went every man. two minutes later, out from under a shelving rock came crawling a trembling squaw. peering cautiously around, and assuring herself the troopers were gone, she listened intently to the sound of the pursuit dying away down the mountain-side; then in harsh whisper summoned some one else. out from the same shelter, shaking with fear, came a little apache boy, black and dirty, dragging by the hand another boy, white and dirtier still, and crying. seizing a hand of each, the woman scurried back along the range, until she reached the narrow trail by which the troopers had climbed the heights; then, panting, and muttering threats to the urchins dragging helplessly after, down the hill-side she tore; but only a hundred yards or so, when, with a scream of fright and misery, she threw herself upon her knees before the body of a lithe, sinewy apache just breathing his last. and then, forgetting her boy charges, forgetting everything for the moment but that she had lost her brave, she began swaying to and fro, crooning some wild chant, while the boys, white and black, knelt shuddering among the rocks in nerveless terror. and this was the scene that suddenly burst upon the eyes of sherry, the sergeant's boy, as he came scrambling up the trail in search of his father. and then there went up a shrill, boyish voice in a yell of mingled hope and dread and desperation, and the dirty little white savage, screaming "sherry! sherry!" went bounding to meet the new-comer. and the squaw rose up and screamed too--something master sherry couldn't understand, but that drove terror to the white boy and lent him wings. "run! run!" he cried as he seized sherry by the hand, and, hardly knowing where they were going, back went both youngsters tearing like mad down the tortuous trail. five minutes later, as some of the men, wellnigh breathless, came drifting in from the pursuit, and corporal clancy, running up from the cañon in pursuit of the vanished "kid," both parties stumbled suddenly upon this motley pair, and the rocks rang with clancy's glad cry. "here he is, sergeant! all right, and jimmy lane wid him." and that's why sherry didn't get the promised larruping when they all got back to sandy. deportment. half this windy day i've watched them, in the breeze, those long slender tasselled branches on the trees, bowing, courtesying politely, doing their deportments rightly, as modestly, as brightly as you please. why, i never saw such manners, not till now, such beautiful deportment; but i vow all the people that i see are as rude as they can be, not to stop before each tree and make a bow. arthur willis colton. [illustration: adventures with friend paul.] the following morning we left the village at daylight, each one carrying about twenty pounds of boiled smoked elephant meat. we were soon in the forest, and tramped and tramped along without seeing any game. towards four o'clock we met a great many fresh elephant tracks. the animals seemed to be just ahead of us. the footprints after a while began to be so plentiful that evidently there had been several herds of elephants. at about five o'clock we came to a beautiful prairie which seemed like a lovely island on that big sea of trees. there were many fields of plantain-trees along the borders of the forest, growing in the midst of trees that had been felled and burned. okili said to me: "we have seen, moguizi, many elephants' tracks on our way here. i am almost certain they will come here to-night, for they are fond of plantains." so we resolved to go no further that day, for we were on good elephant-hunting ground, and made preparations to spend the night on the border of the forest and wait for the huge beasts. we only spoke in whispers, for we thought the elephants might not be far off. okili then said, pointing to a spot where the forest advanced on the prairie, forming, so to speak, a cape: "it would be wise, i think, for some of us to go to that place, for there also is another large field of plantain-trees, and the chances are that some of the elephants will go there, for there are very many." then ogoola, pointing to another field of plantain-trees south of us, said, "to make sure, some of us ought to go there also." we all assented. "we have chosen," said i, "three places where we are going to lie in wait for elephants, so we must divide ourselves into three parties." i had hardly said these words than they all cried with one voice, "i am going with you, moguizi." i replied, "hunters, if you all go with me, then there will be only one party, and we will be too many together." "that is so," they all answered. there was a pause. okili got up and said, "the moguizi, okili, and niamkala will make one party. you know that the king said that i must be always by the side of the moguizi." "yes," they all answered. "the king said so." then okili spoke again, and said, "obindji, mbango, and macondai will make the second party. ogoola, makooga, and fasiko will make the third party." okili, who had much experience in hunting elephants, said, "now listen to what i am going to tell you, and act accordingly. the great thing in elephant-hunting is for one to have a cool head, otherwise he had better stay at home. often elephants, when wounded, charge those who fire at them. in that case, if the hunter runs away, he is lost, for the elephant is sure to overtake him, tramp over him, and one of his feet upon the hunter's body is quite enough to kill him instantly. the elephant may prefer to impale him on one of his tusks, or seize him with his trunk and dash him to the ground or against a tree. "the only way to escape the elephant when he makes his furious charge upon you is to keep perfectly calm, then when you are sure of the direction of the huge beast, instead of facing him, move sideways; then when he is five or six yards from you, take three steps backward as quickly as you possibly can. his pace is then so rapid that he cannot deviate from his course, and he passes by you, and you are safe." "yes, okili, you are right," i said. "i have been three times in the same predicament, and i did exactly what you tell us to do, and there are no other ways to escape the fury of the elephant." "we will do so," all the hunters said, with one voice, "but we hope to kill the elephants on the spot," and as they said this they looked at the charms which hung on their guns. we separated, as we had agreed, into three separate parties, but not before we had taken our dinner of elephant meat. each party went into the prairie to reach the fields, and one and all disappeared in the midst of them. i had just looked at my watch for the tenth time, which marked one o'clock, when lo! i saw through the dim moonlight, emerging from the forest on the opposite side of the prairie, something like a big black spot, which was moving. soon i saw it was a huge bull elephant. he walked for a while, then stood still and looked all around, as if to see if there was danger ahead. okili and niamkala had their backs turned to me, and were watching in another direction. i gave the cluck of danger--cluck, cluck! they turned toward me, and i pointed the bull elephant to them. then the big bull gave a shrill, piercing trumpeting, which evidently meant there was no danger, for immediately afterwards elephant after elephant emerged from the forest into the prairie. i counted one, two, five, seven, ten, thirteen, seventeen, twenty, twenty-three, twenty-seven, when appeared behind them all a cow followed by a baby elephant. no more elephants came out of the forest; the herd was all there. they all came by the bull elephant and stood still in a bunch. were they mistrustful of danger, or were they taking counsel together before moving? fortunately for us the wind blew in the right direction; it blew from the elephants towards us, so they could not possibly detect our scent. after a while the herd nearest to us, headed by the big bull, marched in our direction. their keen eyes had evidently detected the plantains. they walked slowly. we could hear their heavy footsteps. soon they entered the plantation not one hundred yards from us, and then the destruction began. plantain-tree after plantain-tree was brought down by them. they were making such a havoc! before we moved from our hiding-place we waited until they were so far in among the trees that they could not possibly see us when we crossed that bit of the prairie that stood between us. the time came at last when we left our place. okili gave the small cluck, to draw our attention, and made the sign to follow him. we left our hiding-place, and as soon as we reached the grass we lay low, creeping towards the place where the beasts were. we entered the plantation; tree after tree had been pulled down. fortunately they were making such a noise continually pulling down the trees that they could not hear us. we three were close together, and advanced slowly towards the game, when, to our consternation, the wind shifted suddenly; if it shifted two or three more points of the compass, then the elephants would be aware of our presence. after emerging from a cluster of plantain-trees, okili suddenly stood still, put his finger on his mouth--a sign of danger. looking around, we saw within twenty yards of us the bull elephant feeding on a bunch of plantains. how big he looked! niamkala, okili, and i looked at one another, as if to say, now danger is before us; let our hearts not fail us. then slowly we pressed forward towards the big bull. of course he was the most dangerous of the whole herd. it was certain that he would charge if we did not kill him on the spot. then we must look out for our lives. okili looked at his old-fashioned gun once more; niamkala did likewise. i gave a look also at bull-dog, and i said to myself, "paul, if you let this elephant tramp on you or toss you or impale you, it will be all over with you; you will never see home again." we were getting dangerously near. niamkala had left us, and crept towards the elephant in such a manner that he could send a shot behind his left shoulder without the danger of his iron plug coming in our direction if it missed the animal. there was no danger of that, for niamkala was a splendid shot, but then he might only wound him. [illustration: the attack on the bull elephant.] okili and i had approached within twelve or fifteen yards; we were facing each other; circumstance had favored us. the moon was hidden under a cloud, and just as the cloud disappeared we raised our guns. we were to fire between the elephant's eyes. niamkala also raised his gun, and we all fired at the same time. we were upon our feet at once, and waited for the effect of our shots. the elephant seemed to stagger, then suddenly he made a plunge towards okili and me, charging at full speed. we turned instantly sidewise to let him pass in front of us. in a moment he was near; we made three steps backwards and he passed us. i fired another shot; we heard a thumping noise on the ground; the big beast had fallen dead. of course the whole herd decamped after we had fired. they went through the jungle, breaking every small sapling that came in their way and barred their flight. for quite a while we could hear them, until the noise gradually died away in the distance. then we left the dead bull and went on the prairie, and saw some men running in our direction. as they came in sight they shouted, despite their being out of breath, "we have killed two elephants and wounded one that has run away." we shouted back, "we have killed the big bull elephant." we embraced one another, and shouted in the wildest manner, "we are men! we are men!" then they all danced round the bull elephant, and exclaimed, "you wanted to kill our people; you charged them, but you got killed instead." and they had a war-dance round the dead animal, after which we went to their camp and saw the two cow elephants. they danced round them, after which they cut a piece off each elephant, and took these into the wood and left them there upon large leaves, for the spirits mombo and olombo, who ruled over the hunting, to feed upon. one of the bull elephant's tusks weighed sixty-nine pounds, the other one sixty-one. the four tusks of the cow elephants weighed one hundred and eleven pounds. the following morning, mbango, macondai, niamkala, and fasiko left us to go back to the village to fetch people to carry the elephant meat and the tusks of ivory. after they had left, we eagerly followed the tracks the elephants had made during their flight. for hours we followed these. fortunately okili was well acquainted with this part of the forest. a number of peculiar-shaped trees were his landmarks. during the day we crossed over several hunting-paths. "the elephants must have gone far away," said okili. "their leader, the big bull elephant we have killed, is not with them to direct them. the other bull elephants in the herd were too young. some big bull elephant will scent them, and then become their leader. we had better leave their tracks and follow one of the hunting-paths. i know the path will lead us to the place where we are to meet ogoola and niamkala." we slept in the woods, surrounded by big blazing fires. the following day, towards evening, after walking without intermission for twelve hours, with the exception of half an hour for our noon meal, we reached the shore of a little river, and came to the big koola-tree where we were to meet ogoola and niamkala. okili and i were delighted to see so many koola nuts on the ground, for both of us were very fond of koola nuts. we built our camp at some distance from the big koola-tree, and lighted big fires, then lay upon our backs and put the soles of our sore and lame feet as near the fire as we could. it is wonderful how this great heat takes away the soreness. the next morning i thought i would take a stroll by myself and look for elephants, as okili was not feeling very well. one hour after i left our camp, and as i was walking along the bank of the river, i spied, on the opposite side, a big bull elephant by himself, evidently old, and the kind that is called by the natives a "rogue elephant." the big beast was looking at the water, as if he had not made up his mind to cross the river or not, or to take a bath. after some hesitation he plunged into the river. the sun was very hot. he threw water with his trunk in the air. he took his bath leisurely, then began to swim across to a sandy island, upon which he landed, then stood still for a few moments. he had all the appearance of a "rogue elephant." i did not like his looks, and i was sure he would charge if not killed on the spot. i looked at bull-dog carefully, and made sure that the steel-pointed bullets were near. i kept watching the beast, hidden by the thick jungle, when suddenly he lay down and began to roll himself in the sand. this was his sand bath, and he seemed to enjoy it thoroughly. then he got up, stood still for a while, and suddenly plunged into the water and swam in my direction. i saw that he would land about opposite to where i stood. "goodness gracious!" said i to myself, "i am in a pretty fix; i have no choice of position; i have to face the huge beast, and i must aim right between his eyes before he lands." i placed myself by a big tree, which could protect me in case the elephant charged. [illustration: "i took aim right between his eyes and fired."] i took aim right between his two eyes, and fired, reserving the other shot. when i fired he was on the point of landing. as the bullet struck him he gave a shrill cry; then he landed and charged. i dodged by going to the other side of the tree, and well i did, for as he passed the tree he moved his trunk in my direction. then he disappeared, and i heard a big crash in the jungle, and all became silent. i went in that direction, but looked very sharp, and then i saw the huge beast breathing his last. i approached very carefully, for i was not sure that he had not strength enough at sight of me to get up and charge. i did not want to waste more of my steel-pointed bullets. i waited for a while; the elephant kept still; then i ventured nearer and i found that he was dead. okili, who had heard the report of the gun, started down the stream with a raft he had made, and gave a war-whoop when he saw me by the shore. soon after he was in sight of the big rogue elephant. we cut his tail off as a trophy, and went back to the camp, for ogoola and niamkala were to be with us that day. there was great rejoicing with the animal. they were hardly seated when okili said to them, "we have great news to tell you." "what is it?" they said, with great eagerness. "the moguizi has killed this morning a rogue elephant; there is his tail." paul du chaillu. a school of sharks. by charles lewis shaw. a boy--that is, the ordinary every-day sort of boy, which is, after all, the best kind--is supposed to cause sufficient mischief not only to keep himself but his parents and guardians and a large circle of relatives in considerable hot water. and when you mix up two healthy boys and a school of sharks, and incidentally throw in a ship's boat, a heavy sea, and a sudden squall, there is bound to be trouble. and there was. philosophers to the contrary notwithstanding, there is such a thing as luck in this world. it was pure unadulterated luck when the firm of henderson, burt, & co., let us call them, manufacturers of fire-arms, had turned out rifles of what they supposed was the most improved pattern, at a time when the market was dull, that an obscure german chemist should invent a gunpowder requiring a cartridge which relegated those rifles to the catalogue of ancient weapons. and it was luck that the captain of the schooner _hecuba_ happened to be asleep one afternoon off the coast of cuba, and his son and the ship's apprentice were boys, and had a boyish desire to catch a shark, or the firm of henderson, burt, & co. would have been bankrupt, and a considerable portion of general maceo's army would have had to struggle for freedom this summer with their fists. and even spanish conscripts cannot be beaten with fists. this is how it happened: when the news of that german's discovery reached us, for i was the junior partner--the "co." part--of the firm of henderson, burt, &. co., it looked very much like ruin. the orient, our hoped-for market, was not only too far away and uncertain, but our agent in alexandria had already advised us that the oriental was becoming more and more fastidious regarding his fire-arms. in our desperation i thought of cuba, which, on account of the poverty of the insurgents, we had hitherto not considered. the details of the transaction do not matter. sufficient to say that in a few days after the suggestion was made, an agreement was entered into with the cuban agents that if stand of arms were delivered at a specified point on the coast of cuba at a certain time, we would be paid in gold then, and not before. it was a strange contract. the sale was illegal, as the belligerency of the insurgents was not recognized, and the risk of total loss by capture either by our own revenue-boats or spanish cruisers was great. to me was assigned the entire conduct of the affair. i didn't relish the task. all halcyon dreams about the spanish main, coral islands, and hidden treasures, all latent admiration for picturesque pirates, low raking schooners with tapering masts, snow-white decks, and "long toms" secreted under the long-boats had evaporated. i was a business man, and assuming the rôle of the filibustering blockade-runner wasn't exactly in my line. and as the _hecuba_, favored at last by a land breeze, crept out of the harbor of tampa, florida, in the darkness of the june night, i watched the lights of the revenue-steamer ahead, and thoughts of capture, jail, the disgrace of a trial, either in an american court or before a spanish court martial, possessed me, and i wondered why it was that ten years ago i had a wild longing to pace quarter-decks arrayed in a slashed doublet, a velveteen cloak, and a pair of uncomfortable big jack-boots, and yell in a voice of thunder, "man the tops'l yards. port your helm. run out long tom and send a shot across her bows." it occurred to me that there was just a little bit too much eighteenth-century captain kidd, sir henry morgan sort of romance being mixed up in this business transaction. i confessed to myself that i had outgrown all interest in the blockade-running business beyond seeing rifles safely delivered to a customer, and $ , received therefor. but in the words of the ship's boy, a runaway street arab from new york, there were others. and he and the captain's son, for they were sworn friends by this time, discussed the chances of the trip from the vantage-ground of the ship's boat, into which they had clambered. "d'ye t'ink they'll see us, chimmie?" asked the bowery boy, anxiously, for it had been impossible to conceal the object of the trip from the crew. "i don't know. i hope they do," answered the youngster, who had often been on voyages with his father, and knew the sailing-qualities of the _hecuba_. "this breeze is going to freshen, and we're nearly out of the bay. father will show those revenue-steamers a thing or two." "if dey catch us, will we be hung to de yard-arm, way dey say in de books?" inquired the street arab, whose first voyage it was. "perhaps," cheerfully answered jimmie; and with a son's unbounded faith in his father, he continued: "but they won't catch us. the worst is that they may get close enough to see who we are, and then there will be trouble when we come back." "den yer old man had better be a pirate. dat's de way dey allus does--get into trouble in dere own country, and den go piratin' in de spanish main after gold gallons," suggested the ex-newsboy. jimmie said, in an apologetic tone, as if it were a blight on the character of his parent, that the skipper, as he called his father, in imitation of the sailors, wasn't exactly cut out for a pirate. he wasn't blood-thirsty enough, and mentioned several other drawbacks, much to the credit of captain wade. and then there was an intense discussion as to what they would do if they were captain and mate of the schooner _hecuba_. how they would get a beautiful coral island with only savages on it, whom they would first kill, and then utilize the island for burying treasure, imprisoning captive maidens of ancient castilian lineage, and holding rich grandees for ransom. the blood-thirsty little wretches had just determined that i should be their first prisoner, and was to be held for a ransom that would have bankrupted half the arms factories of connecticut, when the voice of the captain could be heard in sharp command: "ease her off and lay low. cover up the binnacle light!" and in the darkness we could see the point of the land we were hugging over the port bow. "they see us. they see us!" excitedly said jimmie. i looked, and felt a sick feeling in my heart as i saw the lights of the revenue-steamer slowly moving toward us. "we're right at the mouth of the harbor," i could hear jimmie whisper. "with this wind, she's a good one if she catches us." in a few seconds i could feel the heavy swell of the gulf of mexico; and the _hecuba_, with her canvas spread like huge wings that looked weirdlike in the darkness, sped before the wind. i felt, indeed, that jimmie was right--the steamer would be a good one if she caught us. and she didn't catch us. but yankee revenue-steamers are not easily run away from, and it was only after we had steered a course that led the government boat to believe that we were making for jamaica did she abandon the chase. we were then far out of our course, and i now had the additional anxiety as to whether we would be able to make cuba in the appointed time. slowly we beat up against adverse winds, practically retracing our course for miles, until at last we sighted the war-stricken island, with only two days left to make the little bay named as the rendezvous with the cuban agents. the elements then seemed to rise up against us, for a storm came up in the evening with tropical vehemence, and the sturdy little _hecuba_ was compelled, with infinite peril, to seek the shelter of one of the numerous bays along the cuban coast. for two days and nights the storm raged with such fury that it would have been madness to venture forth. we saw on the second night far out to sea an ironclad, which the captain's night glass showed to be one of the fastest of the spanish cruisers guarding the coast. we took the small crumb of comfort that it was an ill wind that blew nobody good. 'twas the afternoon of the second day. the violence of the gale had spent itself that morning, and by noon had moderated into a gentle breeze, although a heavy sea was still running. it was the day that i was to have met the cuban agents, and it was maddening to think that the place of meeting was only a few hours' run from where we were idly lying. i begged the captain to venture forth, but he gravely handed me his powerful glass and pointed to a speck on the horizon. i looked, and saw the funnels of the spanish cruiser that had passed us the night before. "we shall have to wait for darkness," he said. "it would be worse than folly to try it now. i must turn in for a spell. i haven't had a wink of sleep for forty-eight hours," and he disappeared into his cabin. i was not the only discontented being on board the _hecuba_. the two boys resented the delay also, and having been kept below during the storm like prisoners, longed for action. they soon had excitement enough, however, to suit even their temperaments. "sharks!" screamed jimmie, disturbing the drowsy sailor of the dog-watch, as he eagerly looked over the rail at a lot of plashing fins and swaying tails. "s' help me!" said his companion. "is dem de t'ings dat follies ships and swallers people?" "no," said the sailor, coming up and contemptuously looking at the school of sharks, whose long tails were making the water boil and bubble as if a submerged volcano were in active operation. "they're just thrasher sharks, and they're playin'." "but they'd eat a fellow," said the ship's boy, and he threw a piece of wood at one under the bow. "no, they won't," said the sailor. "a swingle-tail, as some calls 'em, won't hurt anybody. though some says a whole school will sometimes tackle a whale and kill it; but i don't believe it. a thrasher shark is all play. the only trouble they make is when they get into fishermen's nets, and with those long tails of theirs slash around and tear and tangle everything up. they look big, but, you see, they run mostly to tail. tail and all, they're between twelve and fifteen feet long, and weigh about pounds. they make a good fight if caught on the hook." it must have been half an hour afterwards when my absorbing thoughts about the affairs of henderson, burt, & co., the undelivered rifles, and impending ruin were interrupted by a sudden splash at the stern. i looked over and saw that the two young scapegraces, taking advantage of the captain's absence and the sleepiness of the watch, had lowered one of the _hecuba_'s boats. "what are you doing?" i asked. "going to fish for sharks," answered jimmie. "they are over there"--pointing a few hundred yards away. "we've got a shark hook and line, and the cook gave us a piece of pork for bait." and he held up a most portentous-looking hook, with about three feet of chain attached to prevent the teeth of the shark from severing it. in my ignorance of the ways of the sea, i didn't realize the danger. the big rolling waves made the _hecuba_ roll and pitch as she tugged at her anchor-chains, and i anxiously watched the daring young fishermen. when clear of the schooner they shipped the mast, and in a few minutes they were in pursuit of the sharks under full sail. i saw jimmie throw out the line, but still they scudded on in the heavy sea. what happened then will never be accurately known. whether it was that the tremendous tug at the line when the shark swallowed the hook made the youngsters lose their heads and forget everything--sail, sea, and a sudden puff of wind that came up--in their intense desire to secure it, neither can say. the probabilities are that the tiller being abandoned, as both boys held on to the line, the boat swung into the trough of the sea, the sheet got caught in some way, and the sudden puff of wind capsized the boat in the midst of the exciting struggle. i had watched the accident, and soon captain and crew were on deck. as i looked into the pale, tense features of the captain as he quickly gave his orders, i thought he was going on a hopeless errand. but no! two figures appeared on the bottom of the capsized boat, and a cheer went forth from every throat. they would be saved yet. as if to add intensity to the scene, the wind rose in fitful gusts and a huge bank of clouds rolled up in the sky. something had gone wrong with the gearing or tackle of the second boat, which was seldom, if ever, used; and i fairly trembled with anxiety as the valuable minutes passed, and looked at the boys clinging to the bottom of the boat as it was tossed on a huge wave. but, in heaven's name! what were the boys doing? what did it mean? were they mad? by everything that was sane, they were still holding on to the line. [illustration: out of the gathering darkness came a yawl manned by two men.] "cut away the tackle!" at last roared the captain, maddened by the delay, and noting the actions of the boys. it was done, and with a rush the boat went down almost stern first, and half filled with water. i felt that the fate of the boys was now sealed. with a water-logged boat in that sea it would be impossible to cover the four hundred yards to where the boys were still clinging tenaciously to the line. jimmie was standing up holding the line with both hands, in the position almost of "the anchor" in a tug-of-war, and the ship's boy, extended on his stomach along and astride the boat, held the line with his right hand, while his left grasped the keel. shark-fishing may be exciting, but that the excitement was so great that one should court certain death was hard to understand. i could hardly believe the evidence of my eyes, and i screamed at the top of my voice, "let go! let go!" in the vain hope that i might be heard. it was only a few minutes, but it seemed hours, as the crew alongside bailed out the water. it would be too late. the positions of the two lads showed they were almost exhausted. they couldn't hold out much longer. if they let go there was yet time, but they seemed to hold on as if their lives depended upon it. the end couldn't be far off. the eyes of every one on deck were fixed on the boys, when off to the left we saw, coming out of the gathering darkness, a yawl manned by two men. it seemed almost ghostlike. but with split-sail bellowing out before the wind, she raced on. the men bailing in the boat relinquished their efforts as they watched the yawl steer straight for the capsized boat. as they approached we saw one man move forward to the bow. there was some weapon in his hand. and as the boys apparently gave one last despairing tug at the line, the thrasher shark in its agony gave a leap out of the water, but before its somersault was completed a harpoon quivered in its side. almost at the same time the sail was lowered, the yawl was run alongside the capsized boat, and men and boys helped to manage the dying struggles of the shark. instead of making immediately for the _hecuba_, the cubans, for such we could see they were, seemed to be questioning the lads as they anxiously pointed to the schooner. in a few minutes one of the men threw his cap in the air, and a cry that sounded like "cuba libre!" was wafted on the breeze. it was too heavy a sea to tow the capsized boat, so, hoisting sail, they ran under the stern of the _hecuba_. "well, we got the shark," said jimmie, in a more cheerful tone than his dilapidated appearance warranted, as the boys and one of their rescuers clambered on deck. captain wade walked up to the cuban, and there was a moist look in his eyes as he took his hand. "he is my only child," we heard him say, and everybody understood. "oh!" said jimmie, turning to me as he went below. "that gentleman from cuba says he knows you. he wanted to know all about the _hecuba_ before he would come on board. you see, the spanish flag we're flying made him nervous like," and jimmie and his accomplice in trouble-making disappeared. when captain wade presented me to the cuban--who seemed by his bearing to be a man of consequence--as the agent of the patriots whom i was to meet, i thought that if there was such a thing as luck in the affairs of henderson, burt, & co., it was not all necessarily bad. and i inwardly blessed troublesome boys and distinguished cuban rebels who would run risk of capture and execution by rescuing a pair of youngsters from drowning in sight of what they supposed was a spanish revenue-schooner. they told me that what with the presence of the spanish cruiser and no sign of our schooner, they had thought that further waiting at the rendezvous was both useless and dangerous, and it explains their appearance at such an opportune moment. when the arms were landed and hidden in a dense jungle, and several bags of gold were snugly lying in the captain's locker, my views on blockade-running, boys, and things in general underwent a radical change. i even began to have a tender feeling towards sharks, particularly thrasher sharks who lure boys into getting rescued by cuban officers. and i mentally retracted all the then harsh things i had thought about the folly of holding on to a shark from the bottom of an upturned boat in a heavy sea. i asked the ragged young ship's boy why he held on so long. "hold on!" he said. "why, i couldn't help it. when we upset, chimmie's foot got tangled in de line, and it tied round his ankle. hold on? guess i did. chimmie'u'd be voyagin' round after dat shark now as dead as a baxter street herrin' if we hadn't. course i held on!" a loyal traitor. a story of the war of between america and england. by james barnes. chapter ii. a deferred solution. it was very early the next morning when we started northward along the turnpike. the doctor and i were driving in a tall chaise that swayed on its hinges like a small-boat in a tide-rip. mr. edgerton followed on horseback. the sun had not risen when i had been awakened, and the morning chill was in the air; a mist hung low over the marshes, and the waters of the bay looked dull and cold. i had begun to shiver, and the kind physician threw a heavy cape around me, and tucked me in carefully beside him. we had not spoken, except for a morning's greeting, but now he began a fire of questions, and i could not answer even the simplest. i had never heard that my mother was a widow before her marriage to the man whose name i bore; i did not know her maiden name, nor where she came from; and if i was not born at the plantation on the gunpowder, my birthplace was a mystery to me; for, as i have said, my first recollection was the warm day on the beach. my mother had told me nothing from which i could formulate a suggestion or give a reply that would throw any light upon my family history. what was to become of me i did not know. apparently my mother had left no will, and my appearance upon the day of her conversation with mr. edgerton had interrupted, probably, any disclosures which she had intended making. the lawyer had ridden alongside of the chaise as we slowly ascended a slight hill. "know you anything, master hurdiss, of a large iron-bound chest in a room on the second story of marshwood house?" (i have forgotten to say that the estate upon which we lived was known in the neighborhood as the "marshwood plantation," whether from the name of a previous owner or its location, i have never been able to ascertain.) to the lawyer's question i could only reply that i had often seen the box and had once caught a glimpse of the interior, that it was full of papers, and i had noticed it must have contained some money, for i saw my mother take some gold pieces from a heavy leather bag that she had afterwards replaced. "never mind; we will solve it all," continued the man of law, "so soon as we get there. i have the keys. come, doctor, press ahead!" the horses lurched forward into a trot--we had now reached the top of the hill--and tired and sleepy, i leaned back on my kind friend's shoulder and fell asleep. when i awakened the sun was high, but the chill was yet in the air, and a damp breeze had sprung up from the eastward that presaged rain. aloft against the heavy clouds a v-shaped line of wild-geese were winging their way to the south; their coarse honking fell down to us. the sound caused me to look upward, and i followed the steady flight. i have always been well versed in the signs of nature, and there is nothing so sure to judge by as the flight of wild-fowl. "we are going to have cold weather," i remarked to the doctor. "yes, the old gander is setting a pace for them as if the snow were after him," he replied. to my surprise, as i gazed about near to hand, i saw that we were almost at the cross-roads, where it was our intention to stop and procure something to eat, as we had had nothing since the gray of morning. two or three new houses had been added to the group that lined the road-side, and a new sign-post waved its arms at the corner. a number of negroes hurried out and took the horses. as we entered the low-ceilinged front room of the tavern i overheard the talk that the doctor and lawyer were having together. "it was certainly most careless to leave such property unguarded," the latter was saying. this made me listen. "but no one would suspect anything in the way of treasure, and they are honest people hereabouts," returned the doctor reassuringly. for some reason i could scarcely swallow a mouthful of the meal that was served for us, although it smelt most savory. as a special honor the landlord himself insisted upon waiting upon the table, and i shrewdly suspect, putting things together, that he was of a curious nature, and longed for a chance to listen to the conversation; but if this was his desire, it was not gratified, as the doctor and the lawyer were most reserved in his presence. at last, however, we were on the move again, a fresh horse having been placed in the shafts of the old rattle-trap (upon the possession of which, by-the-way, i found that the doctor prided himself most mightily). well, off we went at a tremendous pace, the new horse charging down the road in a clumsy, heedless fashion, and the chaise rocking behind him fit to capsize us. the doctor at last succeeded in pulling the nag down to a steadier gait, and mr. edgerton, coughing and choking, came trotting up beside us through the trailing cloud of dust that, despite the damp, hung in our wake. for two miles we drove on in silence, and then turned from the main road into the lane that led to marshwood. the old-fields on either hand were grown breast-high with brambles, and the lane wheel-rucks were almost hidden in the tall grass that swished softly and quietly under the box of the chaise. marshwood house was built partly of brick and partly of wood. the brick had come from england at the time when the colonies, because of the tax on industries mayhap, brought even their building material from over the water. it had once been very handsome, but during the revolution the outbuildings had been destroyed, and the right wing of the house had fallen into sad decay. by the expenditure of some not inconsiderable sum, however, the whole estate could have been restored to the beauty it must once have possessed (but alas! that never has or never will happen, i suppose). now, at the time of which i speak, ruin was writ on everything. when the horses had been tied to two rusty staples driven into the trunk of an oak-tree that stood before the door, we all stepped up on to the piazza. the boards were sagged so badly that they had fallen away from the body of the house, and even the stone-work had crumbled along the foundations. it appeared like the old place, and yet it was not; but there was the same hornets' nest that i had watched building up (ages and ages ago, it seemed to me); and there, hanging on a nail, was a fishing-rod with a rusty iron hook dangling from a bit of rotten fish-line. i had stood on tiptoe and put it there; now i could touch it with my elbow. the lawyer had some difficulty in opening the door. however, at last he succeeded, and gave a sigh of relief as he saw that there were no traces of any one having preceded him. "come in, doctor," he said, cheerily, his voice echoing oddly down the empty hallway. "come on, john, my son," reiterated the physician to me. i turned, before i crossed the threshold, and looked out over the sloping meadow and the stretch of yellow marsh to the blue-gray waters of the chesapeake. the rain that had been threatening all the morning had begun to fall with that depressing, sun-filtered drizzle that promises hours of it. it was on such a day that i used to lie with my head in my mother's lap while she read to me. i remembered this with a certain calmness, for there had settled upon me a firmly assured belief that i should never be happy again, and i accepted the feeling with a stoicism that now i wonder at. but my pen runs from the main task of putting facts on paper. to return: i entered the house, and insensibly caught the doctor's great hand in mine. there was a musty, locked-up odor greeting us that checked full breathing. the big room on the right smelt like a cellar, dank and unhealthy. the doctor drew aside a chair, and, opening a window and the shutters, admitted some light. dust was all about, everywhere; the heavy oak centre table was littered with dead, starved flies; the whole place was so chill and unhomelike that i shuddered. the doctor closed the window. "by jove, it grows cold!" he said. the lawyer, who had deposited a pair of large empty saddle-bags on the floor, stamped his feet. "heigho!" he cried, "let's cheer things up a bit. here's a fire all ready for the lighting; that's a godsend." in the wide fireplace were some good-sized logs and a handful of fat-wood. drawing a flint and steel, he struck a light, and soon a tiny blaze crept up the old chimney, and broadened with a burst of flame at last into a cheerful, roaring, warming glow. it cleared the room of its unhealthiness, and all three of us spread our hands out to it as if it had been winter. "i think the look of things has made us exaggerate the weather," said the doctor, with an attempt at a laugh. "come, let's set to work." the lawyer drew from his pocket a small bunch of keys. "we will have to try for it--they're not numbered," he replied, thrusting one into the keyhole of the desk in the chimney-corner. he tried them all before he found one that would fit. then he turned the bolt with a sharp click, and lowered the lid. i began to feel excited, and i could see that the others were and did not conceal it. "ah, no one has been here, that's evident!" exclaimed the doctor. plain to view in a neat pile were some french coins, a shining little tower of gold. the lawyer opened one of the drawers on the left. it was empty. then another, with the same result. in the bottom one, on the right hand, however, was a paper and a miniature on ivory. i remembered the last--the side face of a large, heavy man in a white wig. his nose was very prominent, and despite the massive jowl he had an air that suggested the effect of a noble presence. his costume was magnificent. from beneath a broad sash that crossed his breast peeped a great diamond star, and lace and jewels decked him. "an excellent likeness, i judge," said the doctor, looking at the portrait with one eye shut. "i should know it across the room," replied the lawyer. "who is it?" i asked, for i had seen it once in my mother's hands. "it is the french king who lost his head by the guillotine," answered the doctor--"louis the sixteenth." "did your mother never speak to you about this portrait?" asked the lawyer, who was untying the ribbon with which the paper had been fastened. "once i saw her looking at it," i replied, "and i asked her. but i never did so again, because she began to talk so fast and in such strange words that i could not follow. then she began to weep, and her hair fell down all about her. aunt sheba came running in and held her in her arms. it was a long time before she grew calm again. she never told me who it was." by this the lawyer had spread the document on his knee. he gave a grunt of vexation. "this is greek to me," he muttered. "see what you can make out of it." he handed the paper to the doctor. the latter wrinkled his brows and shrugged his shoulders. "i give it up," he replied, half smiling. i peeped beneath his elbow. "why, it's french," i said, "and my mother's writing, sir!" "can you read it?" asked the doctor, spreading it out on the desk lid. in reply i began without hesitation: "'_to monsieur henri amedee laralle de brienne._ "'dear brother,--although i have not written you and have received no word from you, i am writing these lines, trusting and intending that they will meet your eye should you survive me. my husband, whose memory i cherish, is dead--lost at sea. despite the injustice with which you have treated him, and me also since my second marriage, i recommend to you my son, who bears the name of his step-father.'" i started and read the last words over twice. "go on!" interjected the lawyer, rapping the mantelpiece sharply with his knuckles. i continued, with my face burning and my lips atremble: "'for the sake of the name _that he might claim_, and all that it may mean, you may receive him. i have told him little of the past. in my judgment it was not needed, nor could it now produce anything to his favor. if circumstances should alter, you may divulge the secret; but i pray you not to do so unless this happens. this i beseech you for the sake of her whom you have loved. my son will bear with him the chest that contains the papers that i brought from the château at a. they will be unopened and addressed to you. there is enough money in the two bags to pay for my jean's education. i have never been able to bring myself to talk about the dreadful happenings. i cannot even think of them, or i should go mad. somehow it has appeared that silence has been the better part; but to your discretion i leave this, and to you i intrust my son's future. may god watch over him and direct you! it is evident to me from your letter that you were uncertain which one of your sisters was writing to you. i am _h. de b._, who inscribes here what will be carved upon her tombstone, "_madam john hurdiss_, widow of captain john hurdiss, merchant and trader, of cornwall, england."'" this was all the letter contained. it did not seem to lessen any mystery that existed, and for some minutes neither the doctor nor mr. edgerton spoke a word. suddenly the latter kicked back one of the logs in the fireplace with his foot. "confound the fire, it smokes like a smudge!" he grumbled. "so we are not to open the papers, after all! but there may be something lying loose. let us up." [illustration: "hark! what noise is that?"] all at once the doctor raised his hand. "hark! what noise is that?" he exclaimed. a roaring crackling sound came from overhead. something fell heavily on the floor of the hallway outside. the two men sprang to the door and pulled it open. the hall and the other rooms were filled with stifling smoke. the old portrait (the one with the long brown curls) had fallen, and a blazing bit of wainscoting burned through the canvas that had smouldered to the frame. "the strong-box!" shrieked the lawyer, and he plunged up the stairs. "it's in the room on the right!" i cried, as the doctor and i followed him, feeling our way with the aid of the banisters. [to be continued.] typical english schools. by john corbin. winchester. the english public schools are not what we should call public schools at all--that is, they are not kept up at the public expense, and you can't go to them without paying. what we call public schools the english call free schools, and only poor children go to them. the kind of schools i am going to write about are attended by the sons of the richer people and of the nobility. they are not unlike the big american schools which prepare fellows for college--exeter, andover, st. paul's, st. mark's, groton, and others--though they are all much older, and have many quaint and interesting customs inherited from the middle ages. i shall give an article to each of three of these schools--winchester, eton, and rugby--and then shall add an article on athletics at public schools in general. the oldest of all the schools is winchester. fellows at andover sometimes tell you that their fathers and grandfathers went there before them. at winchester this is a common case; and since the quadrangles of the college were built, there has been time not for one grandfather but for fifteen in a line. the prim and charming buildings look every day as old as they are; but if you were to go into the dormitories and see the rows of little iron bedsteads, each with a boy sleeping in it, you would find it hard to realize that grandfathers of these boys have slept at winchester for five hundred years back, and that all our grandfathers began by being young and small enough to sleep in these cots. the founder of the school was william of wykeham, bishop of the see of winchester, who was not only a great bishop and a great statesman, but one of the greatest builders of the middle ages. his purpose in founding a school was to prepare boys to enter a college he had just founded at oxford--new college, as it was called, and is still called after more than five hundred years. at both winchester and new college the scholars are proud to call themselves wykehamists; and when a fellow has been through both he is apt to tell you that he is a wykehamist of the wykehamists--which means more than you can ever understand until you hear and see a man say it. the first result of preparing boys to enter the university was to make them too far advanced for the teaching they found when they got there. to carry on their education wykeham had to have a special body of tutors at new college. this was the beginning of the english custom of having a complete set of teachers at each of the score of colleges that make up a university. thus winchester is not only the father of all preparatory schools, but of the english university system of instruction by colleges. wykeham intended that all his scholars should be too poor to pay for their own education, and left funds to support them. within the last generation, however, the masters have changed this. in order to get the cleverest possible pupils, they examine all boys between twelve and fourteen, and admit the best ones each year. about eight usually fail for one who gets in. the boys who succeed are, of course, those who have had the best training; and thus the fellows who get the benefit of wykeham's money are usually sons of university graduates, and are often rich. many people object strongly to this, and with good reason; yet the method has one great virtue. fellows get almost as much credit in school for being studious and able, as for playing football; so that many of the richest fellows study hardest. in our schools, and even in our universities, there is still a stupid prejudice against being a first-rate scholar. within the school also there is keen competition. the five or six best students each year get scholarships at new college, which enable them to go through the university without expense to themselves. this is called "getting new," and is perhaps the greatest achievement of a wykehamist. that such has been the case for at least two hundred years may be seen in the epitaph of a boy who died in from being hit by a stone, "in this school he stood first, and we hope he is not the last in heaven, where he went, instead of oxford." when such is the case, there would seem to be little need of the motto on the wall of the old school, which wykehamists translate, "work, walk, or be wopped." beside the members of the "college" wykeham founded, another kind of pupils has grown up, called commoners, who pay for lodging, board, and tuition--about $ a year. these, at first few and unimportant, have increased so greatly of late that they are usually regarded as the characteristic kind of school-boy. they live in nine communities, or houses, of about thirty-five each, under separate masters. the life of the commoners is almost exactly the same as that of the collegians; but the division into those who are and those who are not supported by the college is worth remembering, for a similar distinction exists not only in all public schools, but in the colleges at oxford and cambridge. it does not happen everywhere, however, that the best scholars all live together; and many wykehamists maintain that both scholars and commoners would gain by being mingled. before many years the old college will doubtless be broken up, and the "scholars" proportioned among the various "houses." the discipline is not so strict as at many public schools, yet quite strict enough, according to american standards. the boys--or _men_, as they are always called--are not allowed to enter the town, and have to get special "leave out" to go far into the country. the school day begins at seven o'clock, and bed-time comes at nine or ten. constant attendance at prayers is required, morning and night; and there are four services on sunday. for breaches of discipline the boys are still flogged. one is tempted to say that such a system is not modern; but as a matter of fact, it did not exist, among the commoners, at least, until the present century; and no true wykehamist would think of changing it. even the boys like it sincerely, in spite of some few breaches of discipline. certainly the strictness has no more faults than the great freedom granted by certain of our large preparatory schools; and though we should hardly want to live just as english boys do, we can learn a great deal from them. the main idea of the discipline of an english school is that as much of it as possible shall be carried on by the boys themselves. at winchester it was ordained from the beginning that eighteen of the older boys should, in wykeham's own words, "oversee their fellows, and from time to time certify the masters of their behavior and progress in study." these eighteen are called prefects, and are chosen from the men who stand highest in studies. to an american boy, i am afraid, it wouldn't seem much fun to have to take care of his schoolmates' behavior. he would probably look upon himself more or less as a spy. yet everything i saw at winchester went to prove that to be a prefect was almost as great an honor as to be an athlete. five of the prefects have special titles, such as prefect of chapel, prefect of hall, etc. these are generally chosen from the five best scholars. the prefect of hall has charge not only of his special duties, but of the other prefects. if any disturbance takes place, he quells it. if the boys have any favors to ask, he is their spokesman. he is thus the head of the whole school, and a far more important person, i should say, than the captain of the cricket team. an incident occurred in which well illustrates the power of a prefect. a peddler insisted on bringing various contraband articles, among them liquor, to sell to the boys on their recreation-grounds. the prefects remonstrated time and again, with no effect. at last five of them seized him and threw him, basket and all, into the river. the peddler had the prefects arrested and tried for assault with intent to kill, and the magistrate fined them fifty dollars each. this fine the college paid willingly, complimenting the prefects for their zeal and common-sense. the spirit which prompted both masters and pupils exists to-day, not only at winchester, but at all public schools. the result is that not only is order maintained without ill feeling between masters and pupils, but the eighteen prefects of each year learn to fill posts requiring unusual tact, common-sense, and courage. the duty of a prefect which an american would least envy is that of inflicting bodily punishment--"tunding," as it is called in winchester slang. this consists in beating the culprit across the back of his waistcoat with a ground-ash the size of one's finger. the art of "tunding," an old prefect of hall informed me, was to catch the edge of the shoulder-blade with the rod, and strike in the same spot everytime. in this way, he said, it was possible to cut the back of a waistcoat into strips. in the early part of the century flogging was of more than daily occurrence. an old wykehamist states that on the day of his arrival at school there were boys in residence and names reported for punishment. nowadays, however, only a score or so of cases occur each year; and many boys go through the school without being tunded. a characteristic case occurred during my stay at winchester. a party of small boys had been invited to a strawberry feast in the rooms of one of the dons, and seeing a group of prefects in the court below, had been unable to resist the temptation. first a rotten strawberry splashed on the flint at the feet of the prefects, and then a storm descended. this was too much for prefectorial dignity to bear. the good don's strawberry feast ended in a general tunding. the prefect of hall described this to me next day with quiet satisfaction; and, later, the don spoke of the case as characteristic of the best effects of the prefectorial system. as host, he said, he had not been able to interfere; and except for school-boy discipline, the culprits would have escaped. the wife of one of the masters, however, said it was a brutal shame, and that if she had her way with those prefects, she would throw strawberries at them. such a system leaves little for the masters to do, yet a boy sometimes carries his case to the higher court, though he does it at the risk of great unpopularity. some years ago two seniors, having a grudge against another boy, employed two juniors, at ninepence a head, to give him a beating. the prefects very naturally objected to this method of doing one's dirty work, and ordered all four to be tunded. one of the senior culprits lost courage when he found how hard it was going with his companion, and appealed to the master on the plea that the ground-ash was too large. the master declared that the ground-ashes were "proper good ground-ashes," and proceeded to wear them out on him. [illustration: a dormitory.] [illustration: a student's study.] [illustration: "horse-boxes" and "washing-stools."] [illustration: at the gate of chamber court.] [illustration: chapel and part of dormitories.] the details of daily life at winchester are not easy to understand. the "college," as, in fact, each of the "houses," is divided into chambers or "shops," as the boys call them. in each of these lives a community of say a dozen boys, over which three prefects preside. the sleeping-rooms are locked up, except at night. in the study-room each boy has a desk, which he calls his "horse-box." the prefects have tables, placed in commanding positions. these are called "washing-stools." in the college there are seven chambers, occupying "chamber court," the main quadrangle; and all about are ranged the domestic buildings belonging to the college--the slaughter-house, the bake-house, the kitchen, and the brew-house. in chamber court also are the rooms occupied by the masters and their families, and the magnificent college dining-hall and chapel. all these buildings stand to-day almost precisely as they were built five hundred years ago--that is, a hundred years before columbus discovered america--with this difference, that the flint walls are so stained by time that they reflect the sunshine in many subdued and mellow shades. there are, however, a few relics of dead customs. at one side of the court you will find the remains of the ancient conduit. here, on the stone pavement and in the open air, five centuries of boys have taken their morning baths, summer and winter. bathing could not always, however, be as regular as in these days when travelling englishmen pack their clothes in leather-covered bath-tubs instead of in a trunk. a dozen years ago bath-rooms were fitted up within-doors, in rooms formerly occupied by learned fellows of the college. on a wall is the painting of the "trusty servant," with its verses. the old lavatory of the college was called "moab," while the shoe-blacking place was called "edom." i wonder how many american school-boys are as familiar as those old english boys must have been with the psalm that says "moab is my wash-pot; over edom will i cast out my shoe." the ancient brew-house in outer court is still used, but when i took luncheon in hall with the prefects they rather sniffed at the beer made in it. under king william, however, it inspired this song: now let us all, both great and small, with voice both loud and clear, right merrily sing, live billy our king! for 'bating the tax upon beer. for i likes my drop of good beer; for i likes my drop of good beer. so whene'er i goes out i carries about my little pint bottle of beer. to my taste the beer was very good, and not too strong. perhaps it is a sign of the good sense of wykehamists that they preferred water or milk. one might also class fagging, with which all readers of _tom brown_ are familiar, with the dead and dying customs. it is limited to a few simple offices. a senior still sends small boys on errands, and sometimes makes him cook and wash bottles at private feasts in chambers. every evening, too, when the post comes in, the porter of the college brings it to chambers court, and at a signal the junior of each chamber to get what belongs to his fellows. in olden times, in order to accustom the fags to handling hot dishes, the seniors would sometimes score their hands with glowing fagots. this provided them with "tin gloves." a more amusing bit of barbarity was the "toe fittee," pronounced _tofy-tie_. this consisted in tying a string about a boy's great toe while he lay asleep. then the string was violently pulled, and the boy was drawn out of his bed to his tormentor's side. sometimes two or three would be brought from different parts of a chamber to the same point. in america i have often known a boy to tie a string about his own toe, and hang it out of the window so that a friend might wake him up to go out fishing; but that is a different thing. for pure ingenuity the so-called "scheme" bears the palm. it was always the duty of a certain luckless junior to wake the prefect at an early hour every morning, and if he overslept he was of course tunded. noticing that the night candle always burned to a certain point at this hour, some nameless fag invented the plan of hanging a hat-box over his head by a string, and connecting the string with this point of the candle by a rude fuse. he thus made sure that the hat-box would fall on his head at the required hour. under this sword of damocles he could, of course, sleep in peace without fear of flogging. the terrible stories of flogging and fagging, however, really belong to the past. unless i am very much mistaken, life at winchester, in spite of an occasional tunding, is much pleasanter and better regulated than in most of our schools. the fact that the prefects enforce most of the discipline makes it possible for the masters to get very near to the hearts of their pupils; and, above all, the english boys are fortunate in the fact that the wives and daughters of the masters live with them in the same quadrangle. to speak of winchester without telling about the wife of the second head master, and how fond of her big boys and little boys, good boys and bad boys are, would be to leave the part of hamlet out of the play. many are the gawky boys whom she has put at ease among people, and many the bad boys whom she has set right. one of the pleasantest things i saw at winchester was a lot of oxford men who had come back to her during vacation just to hear her call them smith, brown, and robinson. the stamp of men winchester produces is as distinct from all others as a st. paul's man is different from one from exeter. the ideal toward which the school is working was well expressed by one of the head masters. "i consider that those boys who issue from the top of the school--_i.e._, those upon whom the highest influences of the school have been brought to bear--are boys who ... carry into life a stamp, not of a very showy kind, but distinguished by a self-reliance, a modesty, a practical good sense, and strong religious feeling--that religious feeling being of a very moderate traditional and sober kind which, in my judgment, is beyond all price." how to use a piano. by w. j. henderson. "as we journey through life, let us live by the way," is a very old saying to which many interpretations have been given. to me its pleasantest significance is that we should try to make life a constant delight. there is nothing better for this purpose than kindly intercourse with friends, but as we grow older we find that a circle of agreeable acquaintances cannot be maintained simply on a conversational basis. we must offer our friends inducements to come and see us; in other words, we must entertain in some form. most boys and many girls are alarmed by the word "entertain." the girls are less afraid of it than the boys, because they have an inborn desire and a natural talent for social pleasures. but they are often puzzled as to the best means of arranging entertainments. everything seems so difficult for a girl to undertake without a great deal of assistance from her mother, and frequently that assistance robs her of all feeling of personal proprietorship in the entertainment. "it was called my party," she says, "but really mamma did everything." now i wish to offer a suggestion or two to girls about a form of entertainment which is easily arranged. there are very few homes in this civilized land which do not contain pianos, and there are very few girls who cannot play a little. even if you cannot play difficult music you can give a musical, and make it a really artistic and enjoyable entertainment. in the first place, then, let us talk about the piano. two or three days before your musical is to take place you should have the instrument tuned, for you cannot make music agreeable to your guests if the piano is out of tune. and here let me offer a few suggestions about keeping it in tune. the most important requirement is equality of temperature. therefore your piano should not stand where the heat of a grate or a steam radiator will affect one end of it more than the other, nor should it be so situated that a draught from a leaky window will blow on one end. it ought to be placed so that it will be affected only by the general temperature of the room, and that ought not to have an extreme range. if you hear loud cracks coming from your piano at times, as if something had snapped, lookout; the chances are that the sounding-board is warping, or something equally undesirable is happening, and it is probably due to the influence of temperature. if you wish to keep a piano in the very best order, do not pile books or music or any other heavy objects on its lid. when preparing for your musical, bear these suggestions in mind. you will in all likelihood be obliged to move your piano out of its customary position, for nine times out of ten that is one which would make you sit with your back squarely to your audience. you should not do this; but when you move the instrument, do not put it where it will be injured. in giving a musical, bear in mind that the player is to be the centre on which all eyes are focussed. if the piano is a grand, place it so that its right side will be toward the audience, but running a little obliquely, so that the keyboard will be visible, or partly so, to those on the right side of the room. the position of a square or an upright should be similar, but you may with advantage turn an upright so that the keyboard is more in view. if the room is very large, you may raise the lid of a grand half-way. do not raise it all the way just because you have seen concert performers do so. that is necessary only in a large public hall. if your drawing-room is small, do not raise the lid at all. now you must have light for your music. the prettiest way is to set a tall standing-lamp a little to your left and a little behind you. never place it on your right, because that would be between you and the audience. if you have not a standing-lamp, a pedestal or a table with an ordinary lamp will do quite as well. do not set a light on the piano. it does not look well, in the first place, and in the second it is likely to rattle. it will add much to the effect of the picture if you surround the base of your lamp with roses and smilax, and it is also pretty to have some smilax twined around the scroll-work of the music-stand. in arranging the seats for your guests, you will naturally have to be guided by consideration of the number you expect. i should advise you not to have too many, for that would make it look too much like a public performance. in placing the seats, try to avoid all appearance of stiffness, yet endeavor to arrange them so that as many as possible of your guests will be in front of the piano--by which i mean facing its right side. but whatever you do, do not set chairs in rows as if it were a public hall. it looks badly, and it prevents freedom of movement among your friends between the selections. and this leads me to another important suggestion. whatever your programme may be, it should be short, and it should have at least one intermission. two would be better. in those intermissions you should encourage conversation, and try to induce your guests to move about and change their seats. you might have lemonade served in one intermission. let the boys pass it around. that starts both movement and conversation. i suppose i need hardly suggest that, if the words of your friends are too complimentary to your playing, you can lead them to comment on the beauty of the music. but i do believe that the girls will forgive me if i say "dress plainly." a musician should never do anything to attract attention to his person at the expense of his art. wear a simple gown, and avoid all mannerisms or affectations in playing. but now i hear some girl saying, "i can't play well enough to give a musical." that depends on what you regard as good playing. if you think it means performing difficult and showy pieces, you are mistaken. that kind of playing may astonish your friends, but it will not give them such genuine pleasure as the performance of a few comparatively easy compositions of real beauty in a sympathetic manner. here the majority of girls will meet with their greatest difficulty, for i am sorry to say that many music-teachers ignore the easy pieces of the great masters, and give their pupils as studies the cheap rubbish which litters the counters of the average music-store. it is a mistake to suppose that the immortals among composers never wrote anything easy. there are compositions by haydn, mozart, beethoven, schumann, and others which can be performed by players of very moderate ability, and there are easy and attractive compositions by less ambitious composers, even such as johann strauss, which have much more merit than the brilliant runs and arpeggios of sidney smith, h. a. wollenhaupt, and that class. there are several ways in which you can make a programme so as to give it a special interest beyond that of the music alone, and i should advise you to adopt some one of these plans. if you are not a brilliant player, all the more reason for adding interesting features to your entertainment. if you are an accomplished performer, your musical will still gain in artistic dignity by an intelligent arrangement of the programme. of course there is one thing always to be borne in mind: you must compose your list of selections so that there will be constant variety. do not, for instance, put three or four slow and plaintive pieces one after the other. as a rule, too, it is well to avoid a succession of compositions in the same form, such as sonatas, nocturnes, or valses. eminent artists make mistakes in these matters. one of the most distinguished conductors in this country once gave an orchestral concert consisting of nine overtures. the effect was very bad indeed, for in spite of the fact that they were all by different composers, they were not sufficiently dissimilar in form to produce variety. keeping in mind, then, the necessity of variety, you can arrange your programme chronologically--that is, beginning with a very early writer and coming down to the most recent. secondly, you can arrange it by schools, taking some pieces from the polyphonic, some from the classic, and some from the romantic. thirdly, you may arrange it according to nations, giving examples of german, russian, french, italian, english, and american. fourthly, you may make it representative of one nation; and fifthly, representative of one composer. the last-named way is not advisable for any except accomplished performers, because you will find it practically impossible to make up even a short list of good pieces by one composer and have them all easy. a programme representative of one nation may also be chronological, and if you intend to give more than one musical--say a series of three--this will probably be the most attractive way. but undoubtedly the neatest way for a single recital would be the arrangement according to nations, for you will have no trouble at all in finding a single composition from each country that is pretty and easy to play. in making out the programme, be careful to give the full title and, if possible, opus number of the composition, and i think it always adds to the interest of a programme for young people to put in the dates of the births and deaths of the composers. if you will permit me, i will now submit a sample programme on the plan of representation of nations just to show you how attractive it looks: german. . sonata no. e-flat (composed when eleven years old) _beethoven_ ( - ). russian. . melody in f _rubinstein_ ( - ). polish. . "chant du voyage" _paderewski_ ( ----). french. . "funeral march of a marionette" _gounod_ ( - ). italian. . gavotte (from violin sonata in f) _corelli_ ( - ). english. . nocturne in e-flat _j. field_ ( - ). american. . "wood idyl," from opus _macdowell_ ( ----). i wish to submit for your consideration one more programme, representing the great schools of music, simply to show you that such a list can be made of pieces well within the powers of an amateur of ordinary technical ability. polyphonic school ( - ). . canzona in seto tono _girolamo frescobaldi_ ( - ). . prelude no from the "well-tempered clavichord" _j. s. bach_ ( - ). classic school ( - ). . andante and finale from sonata no. _w. a. mozart_ ( - ). . sonata no. _l. van beethoven_ ( - ). romantic school ( to the present). . slow waltz (from "album leaves") _r. schumann_ ( - ). . "marche hongroise" _franz schubert_ ( - ). the compositions embraced in this programme are well within the power of an amateur of moderate ability. if, however, you can play more difficult music, your choice will be extended. nevertheless, i adhere to my first assertion that it is not at all troublesome to make up a programme of compositions which may be classed as easy. and here let me give you some final advice. select for a musical at which you are to be the performer music somewhat easier than that which you are accustomed to study under your teacher. the reason for doing this is so plain that it is hardly necessary to mention it. if you are unaccustomed to formal piano-playing before an audience, you will undoubtedly be nervous. now if you go to the piano knowing that the music before you is going to tax your utmost powers, you will be still more nervous, and the probabilities are that you will not only not play the music effectively, but that you will play it badly and make many technical slips. the more you make, the more nervous you will become, till it would not be surprising if you should break down altogether. on the other hand, if you are conscious that the music is well within your powers--that you have technical facility enough and to spare--you will not be harassed by fears of making blunders, but will lose all your nervousness as soon as you begin to play and to realize how easy your work is. thus instead of being constantly on the watch for fear of making mistakes, you will be able to devote your entire attention to giving every phrase the right expression. if you have carefully studied the musical beauties of each composition, you will no doubt surprise yourself as well as your friends by the intelligence and sentiment of your playing. bear in mind the fact that such great artists as paderewski frequently charm and move an audience more by the amount of color and expression which they throw into easy compositions like chopin's e-flat nocturne, while in their more brilliant playing, as in one of liszt's hungarian rhapsodies, they gain applause rather as the result of amazement at their conquest of technical difficulties than as the demonstration of sincere delight in the music itself. and now i shall leave the rest to the girls. i am sure that among the readers of this paper there must be hundreds and hundreds of girls who can play the piano well enough to get up such musicals as i have suggested. [illustration: the pyrotechnic display from the floats.] the marine demonstration in new york harbor. the city of new york has one of the finest harbors in the world, and it invariably invokes a burst of admiration from the observer when he first sails up through its land-locked entrance, passing the low-lying hills of staten island on his left and long island on his right; then past governors island, with its old fort, and the statue of liberty, to approach the densely populated manhattan island with its innumerable tall buildings that testify to the admirable skill of the city's architects and engineers. the forest of masts that fringe the water's edge, the saucy puffing tugs towing huge vessels, steamboats, flat-boats, barges, etc., here and there, and the stately steamships gliding along, make a very impressive picture. on the night of october some two hundred of these vessels assisted in a marine demonstration that took place in the harbor, turning its waters into a fairy scene that will ever remain in the memory of those that witnessed it. the men identified with the shipping interests of the country determined to show their enthusiastic support in the late campaign for sound money, and to do so, adopted the idea of having a monster marine parade. every steam-craft that could be spared was pressed into service, and on the night of the parade threaded its way up the hudson river as far as grant's tomb--where the procession started--and fell into line. along the river front the piers were brilliantly lighted up and decorated, and thousands of people gathered to view the unique spectacle. with a roar of steam-whistles, amidst the soaring of sky-rockets, and fireworks of every description, the boom of cannon, and the hoarse cheering of the crowds lining the river's banks, the parade started, proceeding down the stream in stately procession, a thing of unusual beauty. each vessel vied with the others in illuminating its masts, smoke-stacks, and decks with countless electric lights and colored lamps. a steady stream of fire trailed from some, while others set off fireworks. powerful search-lights from the tall buildings of the cities threw their strong beams on the fleet. music sounded faintly through the blasts of steam-whistles, and the river and harbor resolved itself into a field of colored fire. the huge office buildings were brilliantly lighted, and from the windows people watched the scene. arriving off the battery, the vessels gathered around some floats anchored there, and completely blocked the harbor as a crowd might a street. suddenly these floats became fringed with beautiful colored fire, and a busy little tug industriously hustled around to various smaller floats stationed here and there, and lighted a compound on them that produced a high-leaping flame. sky-rockets soared from the larger floats in an incessant stream, bursting high overhead in showers of exquisitely colored sparks, and streams of bombs shot skyward only to explode in a downpour of fire. some flew up to burst and whirl around, producing an effect of a huge umbrella of sparks. for an hour the sky rained a stream of gorgeous colored fire in which even the powerful glare of the search-lights was lost. the bombs exploded overhead like the rattle of musketry, and through it all the steam-whistles kept up a steady roar that must have made the farmers far out in the rural districts uneasy in their sleep. loudly as the crowds packed on the decks of the gathered vessels yelled their enthusiasm, their shouts were completely lost in the screech of whistles. then came the prettiest spectacle of the pyrotechnic display. without any warning, hundreds of feet overhead, suspended in mid-air between the battery and governors island, old glory floated, a huge flag of red, white, and blue fire. h. e. sawdust will tell. by john kendrick bangs. i ne'er could understand just how the trouble came about, but two of mollie's dolls one day had quite a falling out. they were not ordinary dolls, with dresses and all that, but boy dolls both, and one was tall, the other short and fat. the way the story comes to me, the rumpus that arose, came from the short doll's stepping on the taller fellow's nose; and when he said, "i'm sorry, and regret the episode," the tall doll he retorted: "oh, your sorriness be blowed! keep both your feet where they belong, and let my nose alone! i feel as if i had been hit upon it with a stone; and if you'd had a bit of sense, it's plain beyond a doubt, the horrible catastrophe could not have come about." this made the short doll angry. he apologized, and yet the taller would not take a bit of stock in his regret; and so he lost his temper, and retorted, very mad, "to step upon your nose again i'd really be quite glad." the answer was a pair of cuffs upon the short doll's ear. the short doll he retorted, without any sign of fear. he whacked the tall doll on the eye--i do not claim 'twas right-- and then there started up a really fearful sort of fight. and all the toys were very sure the short doll would be licked, he was so very fat, you know; but, oh, how they were tricked! the tall one was not in it for a second, and in three the short was crowned with laurel, for he'd won the victory. and then the secret came out. when they looked about they saw the tall one'd never had a chance by any natural law. they both were stuffed with sawdust, as are dolls of yours and mine; the short was oaken sawdust, and the tall was georgia pine! and in doll-land, as in our land, 'tis always safe to say the stronger wins the laurels, he will always wear the bay. we say that blood will tell; and in this world of dolls we see the sawdust that is best of all will win the victory! [illustration: interscholastic sport] the hartford high-school suffered its worst defeat of the season at the hands of the hotchkiss school eleven two weeks ago saturday. not only did the hartford men fail to score against points made by their opponents, but in the first few moments of play bush and strong were injured so that they were unable to continue in the game. bush was the more seriously injured of the two, and will probably not be able to appear again this season. [illustration: hotchkiss school football eleven.] hotchkiss put up a beautiful game. the eleven played so snappily and with such excellent team-work that hartford was unable to withstand the attack, and even if the visitors had not lost their two half-backs, it is not probable that they could have won, although there is no doubt that the score would have been smaller. the best gains for hotchkiss were made around the ends, their interference being of fine quality. there seems very little chance now for hartford in the connecticut championship series. besides the two men laid up in the lakeville game, hartford has also lost morris, tackle. marsh will take his place. captain sturtevant will go in as half-back, and ballerstein will take sturtevant's place at quarter. ballerstein is a good player, but he lacks weight, and is considerable of an unknown factor for the new position. the hotchkiss school team is an unusually good one this year. noyes at full-back plays a steady game and interferes well; he does not buck the centre quite hard enough, however--a style of play which is being greatly developed at hotchkiss this year. adams and reynolds are the half-backs. the former runs well with the ball, plunges strongly through the centre, and interferes well, but he fumbles on catching kicks. reynolds was a substitute on last year's team, and is doing good work this season. if he could train himself to start more quickly, his running around the end would be of double value. fincke at quarter-back plays a good sharp game, and is considerable of a strategist. he interferes well, although he is not quite fast enough for the backs. the line men are all in pretty good condition. of the two ends, savage is the better. he plays a good offensive game, but has the inexcusable fault of running backward at times when given the ball. his offensive work is good, and on the defence he is clever at getting into the interference, but does not always tackle his man. coy, at right end, is a new man on the first team, and has not yet learned how to put his opponent out of the plays every time. he runs well with the ball, but is only a fair tackler. montague at right tackle is a veteran; he is still somewhat slow, however, and does not block fiercely enough, but he may generally be depended upon to make a good hold when occasion demands. [illustration: berkeley school (n. y.) football team.] the weakest spot in the line is probably centre, which is looked after by dix, a player who has had no experience until this year, but is doing remarkably well for a novice. with coaching and practice he will develop into a strong player. cook, at right tackle, is good at breaking through, but is not a capable tackler. his line-work is good; he runs fairly well with the ball, but he runs too high. hixon, the captain, has played on the hotchkiss team, alternately at guard and centre, ever since he entered school; his strongest point is in making holes, and a play put through him by his backs is practically sure of a gain. he runs powerfully, but too high. he is a conscientious commander, and has good control of his men. following close upon the defeat by hotchkiss, hartford was beaten a week ago saturday by new britain, - . the hartford men started out well, and scored their first touch-down in the first few minutes of play; but when new britain kicked off, hartford, instead of rushing down the field, returned the kick, which gave new britain the opportunity of scoring within a very few moments. the new britain men then scored again, and as soon as they were ahead hartford seemed to lose all spirit. hartford's offensive work was pretty nearly as good as new britain's, but on the defense they seemed to be absolutely powerless. the best work of the defeated eleven was done by gillette and sturtevant. for new britain, brinley and flannery were giants. of course much of hartford's weakness was due to the crippled condition of the whole team, the loss of bush and morris. strong, who was injured in the hotchkiss game, tried to play against new britain, but his condition did not allow of very good work. this is undoubtedly an unfortunate year for hartford in football. the other games played on the same day were by hillhouse against meriden, which resulted in a victory of - for the latter; bridgeport defeated waterbury, - . connecticut literary institute forfeited to norwich free academy. one of the most interesting school football games ever played in cleveland was undoubtedly that between the university school and the south high-school on october . the score was - . this touch-down was made by roby, university school, after a run of thirty-five yards; he got started through a big hole in the south high line, and there was no stopping him until he had scored the only points made that afternoon. the teams were evenly matched, although the south high men were much heavier than their opponents. the university players made up for this inequality by opposing skill to brawn. at the university school there are eight football elevens which practise daily, and from these very good material is to be had for the first team. at south high, on the other hand, there is a scarcity of players for a scrub team, but the men are all heavier than the university players. the feature of the play was the excellent punting of perkins. most of the gains, however, were made through south high line, and a few by good plays around the end. the academic athletic league of san francisco held its autumn field-day a few weeks ago with the usual success, seven records being broken. the figures that went in the -yard hurdle, which hoffman, o.h.-s., reduced from - / to - / sec. woolsey, b.h.-s., won the -yard dash in - / sec., which is one second better than the former record. spencer, b.h.-s., reduced the -yard hurdles from - / sec. to - / sec. pitchford, b.h.-s., ran the -yard race in min. - / sec. hoffman, o.h.-s., cleared ft. - / in. in the high jump. smith of hoitt's school broke the -pound hammer-throw record by sending the weight ft. in., which beats by ft. in. the national i.s. record made by ingalls of the hartford high-school. hoffman's work at this field-day was of the first order; he won the three events in which he entered, and in these broke two of the league records. following is a table of the points made by schools: st place. d place. d place. points. o.h.-s. b.h.-s. p.h.-s. l.h.-s. s.h.-s. - hoitt's school - - points: st place-- ; d place-- ; d place-- . in relay: st place-- ; d place-- ; d place-- . the desire to resume relations in sport seems to be growing among the students both of andover and of exeter. only recently one of the andover publications, the _mirror_, printed an editorial upon the subject, urging that a school meeting be held to consider the question of opening negotiations with their old rivals. "who is there in school now," says the _mirror_, "who has any grudge against our old-time rival? the majority of the fellows only know that there was trouble; that somebody was naughty, and somebody else said they wouldn't play with them any more. as a matter of fact, the make-up of neither of those memorable teams would bear the scrutiny that is now being turned against amateur athletics, nor can andover be entirely upheld for protesting a game which she ought not to have played." there is no dispute of the statement that there were men on the exeter eleven, during the game which caused trouble, who had no right to play for the school. it seems now that andover was also to some extent in the wrong in regard to the eligibility of players. but that is a point which it is not necessary to go into at this late date. the _mirror_ admits that andover knew that exeter was going to play individuals who had no right upon the team, but instead of refusing to meet them, andover, on the other hand, "rather sought glory in the hope of defeating them, whether or no." the "mirror" then goes on very wisely to say that now, after the _personnel_ of the two schools has changed completely from what it was at the time of the trouble, there is nothing to be gained by cherishing the old grudge. "there is everything to lose by it, on the other hand," continues the editorial. "our present opponents are true sportsmen, and play good football and baseball, but they live too far away." this is about what this department contended a few weeks ago--that lawrenceville and worcester, and those schools which andover has been seeking for close games of late are not her natural rivals, being at too great a distance from the home grounds. there is a great deal more in this argument than may appear at first sight. it is therefore sincerely to be hoped that the andover men will have the school meeting suggested by the _mirror_. good will surely come of it. "we feel sure," says the _mirror_, "that a discussion shared by the whole school, and led by intelligent speakers instead of demagogues, as was the previous one, would be the greatest gratification to every true phillips man, whether from andover or exeter, and would clear up one of the most unfortunate affairs that has occurred in a long time." the victory of the cheltenham military academy football team over penn charter makes it look as though the soldiers would capture the championship of the academic league this year. the game was played at ogontz, and consequently cheltenham had a small advantage over the visiting team, but they put up a game which penn charter would find hard to beat on any field. play had only been under way five minutes when boyd, c.m.a., broke through the line and scored. there was no goal, and soon afterwards boyd scored again. toward the close of the first half it looked as if penn charter might score, but misjudging the situation, a try for goal from the field was ordered, and the visitors lost the ball. in the second half, cheltenham scored another touch-down almost at the start. this made the score - , and that ended the point-making for the game. just before the whistle sounded, dolson got a good start and made a long run, ending by placing the ball behind the goal posts; but the referee refused to allow the points, the penn charter man having run out of bounds. the chicago interscholastic football teams kept up their forfeiting procedure on october --only two games being played. hyde park defeated north division by fast playing and good interference. the score was - . trude did good work, and made the finest run of the day by shooting through a hole in the line and making a run of ninety yards. miller has developed into one of the strongest tackles in the league, and in every game he makes sure gains when he takes the ball. friedlander's tackling was one of the features of the hyde park-north division match. the game between evanston and west division was a one-sided affair, evanston winning, - . the three centre men of the winning team are as good as any in the cook county league. praether is the best man in his position; he weighs pounds, and does his work with thoroughness and intelligence. north division and english high had an ugly misunderstanding in their game, and the whole thing will have to be done over again some time later. part of the trouble resulted from playing in the dark. a decision by the referee was the immediate cause. a competent referee should have ordered play stopped as soon as it grew so dark that decisions must be difficult to arrive at. "a primer of college football."--by w. h. lewis.-- mo, paper, cents. the graduate. [illustration: stamps] this department is conducted in the interest of stamp and coin collectors, and the editor will be pleased to answer any question on these subjects so far as possible. correspondents should address editor stamp department. the following new issues are on the market: fernando po. / centimo, yellow-brown. centimo, violet. - / centimo, brown. centimo, blue. centimo, carmine. c. on c. surch. per. montenegro, on september , two cards. novtch, blue and brown. novtch, lilac and orange. novtch, brown and green. novtch, green and brown. novtch, yellow and blue. novtch, blue and green. novtch, green and ultramarine. novtch, blue and yellow. novtch, red and blue. novtch, rose and blue. novtch, brown and green. some of the tobago stamps have been seen in different colors from those catalogued, and in some instances these stamps have been offered as "errors" in color. it turns out that a new issue is to be made from the same dies, but in new colors. a collector in san francisco lately was given access to the papers of a merchant who was in business during - . it is said that he found u.s. revenue stamps to a face value of $ , . most of the stamps were common, but a good number of rarities repaid the collector for his trouble. endicott c. allen, high street, brookline, mass., and l. t. brodstane, superior, neb., wish to exchange stamps. a. greene.--no premium. harold weaver.--your stamps are locals from finland. w. benedict.--"correos" is spanish for postage, españa is spanish for spain. you can obtain the belgium dominical stamps from any dealer from c. to c., nine varieties for c.; the c. f. and f. are worth c. each. a. b. c.--the columbian half-dollar of is worth face only. e. v. sullivan.--no premium on the coin. i believe there is a philatelic society in hoboken, but i do not know the address. the cuban republic stamps have been seen in new york on letters, but it has not yet been shown to the satisfaction of philatelists that these stamps are used for postal purposes in any part of cuba. of course, should the cubans win their independence, they would establish regular post-offices, and probably would use the present cuban republic stamps for some time at least. p. a. n.--unused würtemberg stamps previous to issue are very scarce. in many instances the used copy is worth c. or c., and the unused $ or $ , and even more. constant reader.--your coins are still current in england and prince edward island respectively, consequently there is no premium. a. gillow, main street, zeehan, tasmania, offers australian stamps in exchange for american and west indian stamps. p. dreier, ridley park, pa., wishes to exchange stamps. c. h. v.--encased postage-stamps are sold at $ each and upward. some varieties are very scarce. e. brigham.--no dealer will buy any stamps or collections of stamps without previous examination, and common stamps catalogued at c. to c. each are unsaleable (to dealers) except in lots of one hundred or more of each kind at one time. you can probably dispose of your collection to some of your friends who collect stamps. a. m. stebbins.--no premium. c. williston.--continental and colonial currency is well worth collecting. many varieties are very common, and as yet it has not become fashionable to collect these interesting souvenirs of american history. probably when they become scarcer there will be a greater demand than at present. a. b. taylor.--the first issue of tuscany stamps were printed on a sheet bearing twelve crowns as a water-mark--_i.e._, four horizontal rows of three each. it takes about eight stamps to show a complete crown, consequently individual stamps have a few irregular water-mark lines only. philatus. the very best way wanted. every time we have printed information about how to preserve flowers, letters have come saying that this or that way is a better method than the one we gave. now "lincoln, wis.," writes us: "i should like to collect wild flowers, but do not know how to prepare them in order to preserve them in the best condition possible. will some one please tell me how it may be done?" complying with the request in the last clause, will some one tell us the best way? be brief and prompt. we will print the responses to this query--or the best ones, at least--since many others may desire the information. [illustration: royal] the absolutely pure baking powder. made from cream of tartar, a fruit acid. does not contain alum or any deleterious substance. unequaled in strength. royal baking powder co., new-york. [illustration] to show your heels to other skaters wear the barney & berry skates. highest award world's fair. catalogue free. barney & berry, springfield, mass. home study. a practical and complete =business college course= given by =mail=, at student's =home=. low rates and perfect satisfaction. trial lesson cents. catalogue free. bryant & stratton, college bldg., buffalo, n.y. hold their place in the front rank of the publications to which they belong.--_boston journal_, feb. , . harper's periodicals magazine, $ . a year weekly, $ . a year bazar, $ . a year round table, $ . a year [illustration: piso's cure for constipation] cures where all else fails. best cough syrup. tastes good. use in time. sold by druggists. [illustration: bicycling] this department is conducted in the interest of bicyclers, and the editor will be pleased to answer any question on the subject. our maps and tours contain many valuable data kindly supplied from the official maps and road-books of the league of american wheelmen. recognizing the value of the work being done by the l.a.w., the editor will be pleased to furnish subscribers with membership blanks and information so far as possible. it will be necessary this week again to devote the department to answering one or two of the general questions on the subject of bicycling. in the first place, letters are being received from time to time asking not only how to join the league of american wheelmen, but what the advantages of it are. as is stated in the note at the beginning of this department, we are glad at any time to send blanks for application for membership of the league to any one, but particular reasons why any one should join the league cannot be given in small space and apply to each request. the league of american wheelmen consists, according to the constitution, of amateur white wheelmen of good character, eighteen years of age or over. an applicant for membership must be endorsed by two league members and three other reputable citizens, and pay an initiation fee and dues. it is an association of bicyclists who have proved that by combining in an association they can constitute themselves a strong influence for the laying of good roads, can secure legislation for the advantage of and prevent legislation against wheelmen, and can secure special rates at hotels. the league is not a money-making institution, the services of the officers are not paid for, and the two dollars which each member pays for membership go not to any one's individual advantage, but to paying the expenses of putting up signs throughout the country, of getting out the state road books and tour books, and to the expenses of carrying on correspondence, etc. the advantages that accrue to any one who joins the league are, in the first place, that he receives an interesting weekly paper, _the l.a.w. bulletin and good roads_, which keeps him pretty well informed as to bicycling matters. the league also spends a large amount each year in keeping up the agitation for the movement for improved roads, and it makes every attempt, so far as it can, to protect wheelmen in their legal rights. the hand-books, maps, road-books, bicycle meets, parades, tours, and entertainments gotten out by each state for the benefit of members are all advantages that do not need to be explained. any one member may not avail himself of all these, but he will find that at the end of the year he has obtained more than two dollars' worth of benefit from the league. the ticket which is given to him on the payment of the two dollars will secure from ten to twenty-five per cent. reduction in at least one good hotel in almost every large town in the united states, and if the member is making a two weeks' tour in the country in new york state, for example, he will be sure to more than get his two dollars back in that time on reduced hotel rates alone. some one writes to ask whether it is important to observe all the city regulations regarding bicyclists. this is one of the most important details of wheeling in cities that can come before the attention of the wheelman. the laws against bicycling would be much more stringent were it not for the work of the league of american wheelmen. this league maintains, in substance, that a bicycle should be treated practically as a horse and carriage on the road. the tendency, however, for legislators is to curtail the rights of bicycles. as a result, certain laws have been passed, and the contest is continually going on between the two parties: those who assert that bicycles have and should have as much right upon the road as carriages, and those who believe they should be more restricted. if the community of wheelmen wish to have more rights on the road than they have to-day, or as many of them have to-day, the least they can do is to observe the ordinances, for by each infringement of a city ordinance the chances of securing better legislation become less. for example, there are city ordinances in new york which require that every bicyclist should carry a lantern after dark; that no one shall coast within the city limits; that every bicycle should have a bell in good order attached to it, which shall be rung on certain occasions. there are laws of a similar nature in most of the cities in the united states now. it is a very simple matter for one bicyclist who comes to a hill on the outskirts of new york city to coast. it is a pleasure to enlist, of course. there may not be any policeman about, and it is very possible that the bicyclist can have his coast and not be discovered. at the same time, if he is discovered and arrested, the case comes up in court; and especially if he is a well-dressed, respectable citizen of the city, the opposition at once secures a handle for argument that the bicycle must be restricted, that people do not observe the ordinances, and that the bicycle in general is a nuisance. few readers of the round table could perhaps realize this at first sight, but it has been used time and time again in the new york city courts as an argument against bicyclists, and it is therefore the duty of every person who rides a bicycle to observe these rules. the questions of lights and bells are parallel. you may succeed in riding at night without a light in some small city where the laws are not enforced, but if any trouble arises you have done the best you could to bring the bicycle into disrepute. the mania for collecting. it is doubtful if there is anywhere in the world a boy or a girl who has not at some time or another suffered from this very harmless disease of "collecting." it comes to most of us almost as surely as the mumps, but, unlike many other of the diseases of childhood, it can be had more than once, and there is no limit, apparently, to its phases. stamp-collecting, and autograph-collecting, and the collecting of coins are most reasonable, instructive, and oftentimes profitable; but what can be said of a person who collects toothpicks? it would almost seem as if such a person were insane, and yet to some men it has appeared to be worth while to do it. an english journal states that probably the distinction of owning the most valuable assortment of these useful little articles belongs to an eastern rajah, whose collection contains toothpicks of the rarest workmanship and design, many of them studded with costly jewels. others of them are valuable from their antiquity and the unique circumstances under which they came into his possession. the most curious miscellaneous collection, the paper goes on to say, ever made was that of an eccentric scotsman, william gordon, who lived at grahamstown, near glasgow. he had an immense collection of the most varied description, including adzes, gimlets, hammers, keys, jars, bottles, toothpicks, tops, marbles, whips, toys of all sorts, sizes, shapes, and materials, besides having an assortment of walking-sticks and gold and silver watches. the most remarkable articles ever used as toothpicks are the whiskers of the walrus, which are quite stiff, and improve with age. the writer tells also of a curious fad of an eccentric collector, who went in for bottled battle-fields, as he called them. he had about seventy-five bottles, each bottle containing some of the soil of a historic battle-field, and duly labelled. surely, if this mania continues to develop, we shall shortly hear of collections of canned volcanoes, and barrelled rivers, and preserved voices--in fact, the last would not, in these days of the phonograph, be a had thing at all. if, instead of taking an autograph-album to a celebrity, and asking him to write his name in it, a collector might readily take a phonograph fully supplied with cylinders to the famous men of the time, and ask them to say a few words to be handed down to posterity, not by word of hand, but by word of mouth. it would be a great joy to us now if some means of preserving the voice of shakespeare, washington, napoleon, and other illustrious dead had been devised in the old days. [illustration: the camera club] any questions in regard to photograph matters will be willingly answered by the editor of this column, and we should be glad to hear from any of our club who can make helpful suggestions. owing to the number of questions, we devote the entire department to answers this week. sir knight e. magsameu asks how to burnish prints without a burnisher; if ferrotype pictures be made with the pocket kodak, and if so, how are they made; if lantern slides can be made with a kodak; if blue prints can be burnished; how to print a title or name on a photograph; what is meant by the diaphragm; and what is the reason tall buildings in his pictures have the appearance of falling down. to burnish prints get a ferrotype plate (price c.), clean it with a soft rag dipped in benzine, take the prints from the water and lay them face down on the shiny side of the plate. lay a piece of blotting-paper over the print and rub it with a squeegee (which is a rubber roller), till all the moisture is out of the print and it adheres to the plate. leave it on the plate till dry, when, if it does not come off itself, lift it at one corner and it will peel off the plate. the contact with and the drying on the ferrotype plate give the print a fine gloss. if one has not a squeegee, a smooth bottle or even a wooden rolling-pin can be used. ferrotype pictures cannot very well be made with a pocket kodak. sir knight samuel boucher, jun., box , gravesend, l. i., says that he will send the formula for ferrotype plates to any one who asks him for it. lantern slides can be made with a kodak. blue prints cannot be burnished. see no. , march , , for directions for marking negatives. a diaphragm in photography is a thin metal plate with a hole in the centre, which is placed between the lenses of the camera tube to concentrate the rays of light and increase the sharpness of the picture. the smaller the opening the sharper will be the picture, but the exposure will take longer than with a larger opening. the reason of the lines of the buildings in the pictures being out of perpendicular is because the lens is not rectilinear. sir knight william f. beers, san remo hotel, th street and central park, new york city, wishes to know the best book for amateurs. wilson's _photographics_ is a good book, and gives detailed directions for making pictures. sir william says he has a by - / daylight kodak which he would like to sell, as he wishes to purchase a larger size. sir knight arthur lazarus asks how to enlarge and diminish the size of pictures. to enlarge see directions given in no. . will sir arthur state whether he means to reduce from the negative or from the print? our competition is now open. robert hunter, buena vista ave., newark, o.; loe olds, spring alley, minn.; edward clarkson seward, jun., north fullerton ave., montclair, n. j.; walter s. raudenbush, south th st., lebanon, pa.; lester schutte, east d st., new york city; grenville n. willis, maplehurst, becket, mass.; willis h. kerr, bellevue, neb., wish to be enrolled as members of the camera club. sir knight j. r. sixx sends two blue prints, and asks if they are good. he has had his camera but two months and is anxious to do good work. the picture of the poultry-yard is very good, but in making pictures of figures would suggest that the full length be included. if the camera had been moved a little farther away from the subject it would have brought the whole figure within the angle of the lens. the picture is sharp and detail good. the picture of the steamer is a good one, but trimming would improve the general appearance. try cutting off half an inch in the foreground, at the same time making the edge of the picture parallel with the bottom of the boat, and then squaring the rest of the picture to correspond. a part of an umbrella out of focus shows at one side of the picture. this can be removed in the printing if a thin mixture of gihon's opaque or lamp-black (water-color) be painted on the glass side of the negative over the outlines of the umbrella. make it as near the color of the film of the sky as possible, and it will look like a part of it. try and win a prize in our coming competition. sir knight walter raudenbush and several other correspondents who wish to become members of the camera club ask if there is any initiation fee required for admission into the camera club. there is no fee, and any knight or lady of the round table may become a member of the camera club by sending name and address to the editor and asking to be enrolled as a member. one is not required to be a subscriber to the magazine in order to belong to the camera club or to enter the competitions; but it is a great advantage to have the magazine, as the camera club column always contains matter which is of value to the amateur. an english view of the american climate. we learn a great many interesting things about america from the london newspapers. here is the latest bit of information that has come to hand: "mr. willie park, jun., the well-known golfer, who recently returned from a visit to america, tells of a match he played there with willie dunn under exceptional circumstances. it was the time of the great heat wave in new york, and on the day on which the match was decided, the heat mr. park describes as being 'somewhat terrible.' the thermometer registered degrees in the shade. notwithstanding this, there was a large following, many of whom sought to overcome the effects of the heat by bathing their heads under running-water taps on different parts of the course. it was almost impossible to keep the balls in a playable condition, as the heat softened the gutta-percha. to prevent them melting they were placed on ice and carried along by a caddie, who deposited a changed ball at each tee, while the old ones were replaced on the ice for preservation!" * * * * * the second summer, many mothers believe, is the most precarious in a child's life; generally it may be true, but you will find that mothers and physicians familiar with the value of the gail borden eagle brand condensed milk do not so regard it.--[_adv._] advertisements. arnold constable & co cloakings for ladies and children. _costume cloths,_ _fancy colored faced cloths,_ street and evening shades. _cheviots, serges, zibelines, venetians,_ _zibeline tweeds, mixed meltons._ _irish and scotch tweeds and homespuns for_ bicycle and golf wear. broadway & th st. new york. walter baker & co., limited. established dorchester, mass., . breakfast cocoa [illustration] always ask for walter baker & co.'s breakfast cocoa made at dorchester, mass. it bears their trade mark "la belle chocolatiere" on every can. beware of imitations. postage stamps, &c. any stamp collector who is not familiar with our weekly stamp journal may secure it on trial for months for c. and a packet of varieties of foreign-stamps, _free_. the packet contains only genuine stamps, including victoria, new south wales, newfoundland, ceylon, mexico, spain, italy, austria, chili, and many other countries. price-lists free. approval sheets sent on application. c. h. mekeel stamp & pub. co., st. louis, mo. [illustration: stamps] , all dif., & fine =stamp album=, only c.; , all dif., hayti, hawaii, etc., only c. agents wanted at per cent. com. list free! =c. a. stegmann=, cote brilliant ave., st. louis, mo. u.s. diff u.s. stamps c., diff. foreign c. agts w'td @ %. list free! l. s. dover & co. theodosia, st. louis, mo. stamps. var. c. sheets % commission. r. w. de haven, box , sta. b. phila., pa. old and new. franklin square song collection. the "franklin square library" has given many valuable numbers, but none so universally attractive as this. nowhere do we know of an equally useful collection of school, home, nursery, and fireside songs and hymns which everybody ought to be able to preserve, and which everybody will be able to enjoy.--_springfield journal._ eight numbers. price, cents each; cloth, $ . . full contents of the eight numbers, with specimen pages of favorite songs and hymns, sent by harper & brothers, new york, to any address. a glimpse of long island life. harper's round table has always been the greatest source of pleasure to us, and has followed us around in our various wanderings, both here and abroad; always awaited with impatience and devoured with avidity. i have just finished that most delightful serial "for king or country," and think it one of the finest stories i have ever read. i began it one evening after supper, and became so much excited over it that i could not lay it aside until i had reached the last page. my other favorite serials were "dorymates," "the red mustang," and "the flamingo feather." roslyn is a quiet little town on the north shore, nestled at the foot of harbor hill, the highest elevation on the island. it is on hempstead harbor, and looking out across the sound one can see the hills of connecticut ten miles away. it is a resort much frequented by tourists in the summer-time, and its scenery is most picturesque. with its rolling meadows, deep glens and recesses, and ridges of hills, one might almost imagine switzerland on a small scale. we are devotedly fond of the place, having lived here the greater part of our lives, and were quite heart-broken at leaving it to go to europe in early . my sister and i go to a classical school here, and take the regular college preparatory dose of latin, greek, and mathematics, which we enjoy immensely. we are both ardent disciples of photography, and also struggling young acrobats on the treacherous fiddle-string. during our leisure hours we ride, drive, skate, play tennis, or swim--according to season. hilda ward, l.r.t. roslyn, n. y. * * * * * queer signs of coming events. there is old sign that if the housewife drops her dishcloth, "company" is coming. did you ever hear of it? then there are signs about the weather, about luck, and about many similar things. we want to know the signs common with you. do you live in the south, in canada, or in the west? tell the table briefly a few of the signs you oftenest hear. those that strike us as the oddest and the funniest we will print, giving credit to the senders of them. cannot our readers abroad help us on the collection? we hope so. * * * * * kinks. no. .--a diagonal acrostic. here is as pretty a puzzle as one could wish to see. its answer is simple, and yet fewer things are harder to construct than this double acrostic. it looks easy--but! you remember the story of the fresh freshman at college who thought proverbs simple. his professor told him to make a few! in the following the primal diagonal reads downwards, the final one upwards. the five short couplet lines throw light on the cross-words: two brothers we are said to be, and children of the year; we come each spring, and always bring some proof that spring is here. the elder fumes and shakes his plumes that spring should be so coy; but, much more mild, the younger child sheds copious tears of joy. . in every work-shop, every trade, for imitation chiefly made. . when weary on the desert plain, rest and refreshment here obtain. . in this the low comedian plays, and seeks to catch the vulgar praise. . some great event doth indicate the time from which i take my date. . musician i--when david sung, his lyre to me ofttimes he strung. * * * * * no. .--double progressive magic square. figures , , , , , , , , . these numbers have been doubled from one upwards, and the puzzle is to place them in a square of three lines, so that the first multiplied by the second, and the product multiplied by the third each way, horizontally, perpendicularly, and diagonally, will produce the same amount. there are eight answers, all alike. * * * * * no. .--a sentence hunt. the following sentence, standing alone, is in one of the most familiar of books, "neither give place to the devil." where is it? * * * * * no. .--phonetic charade. i am the first half you all are to guess, i, a poor insect, quite tiny or less. after me comes the two-syllabled verb lovers may do and their parents disturb. join us, we make the fleet-footed beast lovers should copy and rival; at least, would those rash lovers reach safely their goal, they ought to make use of the speed of my whole. * * * * * no. .--a geography lesson. . what town in norway would you prefer not to drive a shying horse past? . what city in trans-caucasia runs on wheels? . what is the most aristocratic river of europe? . what suburb has bombay that, if you had it, you would try to get rid of? . what city of afghanistan can one person talk in every part at once? . what large river of bosnia can you not drown in? . what town in sweden could you use on your front-yard fence? * * * * * answers to kinks. no. .--charade. sun-down-(h)er.--sundowner; a squatter on government land. * * * * * no. .--for mathematicians. he receives all his book debts except $ in $ of $ , , and all except $ . in $ of $ . his loss corresponds to - of $ , plus - of $ or $ in all. had he received all his book debts he could have paid $ . on every $ he owed. as it is, he can only pay $ on every $ . therefore the loss of each $ . on each $ he owes corresponds to the total loss of $ , and so as $ . :$ ::$ :$ , . amount he owes, $ , . this is propounder's solution. * * * * * no. .--word square. t a f f y a w a r e f a t a l f r a n k y e l k s * * * * * no. .--easy riddle in prose. valuable as a curiosity to any museum. the five pebbles. the one pebble with which david killed goliath. * * * * * a sailing trip and a war-ship. last april a friend of my father's told me that a party from bluffton were going to "paris island" to see the man-of-war _indiana_, and asked me if i would like to go. i went. we had to ride five miles in wagons, and then we got into a large sail-boat. it was a cold and rough day, and some of the girls got seasick. but other boys and girls and myself had a delightful time. we arrived at our journey's end in four hours, and proceeded to a friend's house. the dry dock in which the ship lay is a hole thirty-five feet deep, four hundred feet long, and about seventy feet broad, and has steps going down three sides of it. the other end is the gate, which is very large and oblong. it has rigging inside of it, which opens or closes it at will. a pump working all the time keeps the dock dry. we went on board the _indiana_, and a marine explained everything to us. the small cannons fire twenty-five times in a minute, and some others sixty or sixty-five times in a minute. the large cannons are in turrets, which can be turned around on a pivot, enabling them to be fired in any direction. we saw some torpedoes which, the marine said, cost twenty-five hundred dollars apiece. the ship's kitchen is large and cool. there were some sailors cooking, and some were washing clothes. others were sewing, reading, writing, and talking. then we went through the petty officers' quarter, which was a kind of long hall, on each side of which were small rooms, and all along this hall sailors were asleep in all kinds of positions. we went to a lower deck in the boat, and our guide showed us where they telegraph to all parts of the ship. there were two rows of boxlike instruments, and in the middle of each was a button. the sailors wore navy-blue blouses and pantaloons and tam o' shanters that were trimmed with white braid. the marines' suits were trimmed with gold braid. instead of tam o' shanters they had caps. we went also to see fort charles. the moats are three feet deep and five feet broad. they are very thickly overgrown with scrub-oak. we picked up a few shells on the beach as mementos of our trip to the _indiana_. i would like a few correspondents. emily mittell. bluffton, s. c. * * * * * books for a girls' chapter. i have organized a little club of five girls, three thirteen-year-olds, one ten, and one eleven years. we call it the iris club, in honor of juno's hand-maiden between the earth and sky; and also in honor of her, our colors are purple and white. our dues for the first month are ten cents, and after that five cents. we are going to give these dues to the home for friendless children. i thought it would be nice to take up some noted work which all would enjoy--the oldest as well as the youngest. i love dickens, but his works are so lengthy, and the plot so long in evolving, that the younger ones might lose interest. can you suggest a list of books? adelaide l. w. ermentrout. reading, pa. ellen douglas deland's _oakleigh_, _the wide, wide world_, which is a standard, but which you may have read, and mrs. a. d. t. whitney's books--all of them. * * * * * amateur illustrator's outfit. "what utensils are needed by an amateur illustrator, and where can they be obtained? j. s." corning, n. y. illustrations are made in two ways--pen-drawing, and what is called "wash." for the former get good bristol board, a bottle of drawing-ink, and some small steel pens. the outfit will cost half a dollar, perhaps, and can be had from a dealer in artists' materials, or your bookseller may have them. if he has not, he can get them for you. to draw in wash use ivory black and chinese white. the drawing is a water-color, and the picture is made with the lights and shades of the background, the ink, and the white. use water-color paper and small sable brushes--half a dozen assorted sizes. you can get the outfit by sending to the address given in any advertisement. these are all the utensils you need. the rest comes by practice and study. * * * * * a query in natural history. adelaide l. w. ermentrout asks: "can any one interested in natural history tell me the name of the queer object which i am going to describe? it is a worm about one inch long and one-fourth of an inch in diameter. the body is brown, but over the back is a patch of green bordered with white. in the centre of this patch is a brown spot. at each end of the body are two horns covered with bristles, and around the body are tufts of bristles like fringe on a cushion. at one end, under the body, is a little head with which it feels its way. there are two tiny eyes at the sides. its under side has little holes in three parallel rows, by which, i suppose, it clings. it is a hideous creature. what is it, where does it come from, and what does it develop into?" * * * * * a startling experiment. not long ago i went to the american institute fair, in new york, and went through a most mysterious performance. at one end of the hall was the "illustrated" x rays. to see this wonder, you pay ten cents and put your hand in front of a tube and peep through an instrument which looks like a stereoscope. at first you see nothing but a dark object; then, as if by magic, a faint outline of the hand appears, and then--horrors--you see the bones--the actual bones--of your own hand with all their ugliness! this is a most wonderful experiment, and, if possible, i would advise all those who can, to "see the bones of your own hand." some timid persons may shrink from this ghastly sight, but i firmly believe that they would learn something by seeing this marvellous scientific experiment. fred. w. pangborn, jun. hackensack, n. j. * * * * * the lesson of a life. the late george du maurier was an example of a man who worked his way to fame and fortune. true, when just turned sixty he had a wonderful "run of luck," but it is to be remembered that his genius had been present all the long up-hill years before sixty. the trouble was, the world would not see it. daniel webster, upon the conclusion of the greatest effort of his life, that wonderful speech in the united states senate, was congratulated on being able to make such a speech off-hand. asked if it really was extempore, as it appeared, he replied, "yes, but i have been all my life preparing it." it was much this way with the late novelist. du maurier wrote and the world applauded. quite simple. quite easy. not so. du maurier studied for many, many years, and faced discouragements that would have sent weaker men to the wall. like webster, his effort at last seemed almost "extempore" in spite of the fact that his custom was to write, rewrite, tear up, write again and change; but he had been all his life a student, a patient toiler, piling up a capital of experience, not knowing whether he should ever be able to realize any thing from it or not. in spite of du maurier's phenomenal success near the close of his life, his personal history is a lesson to young persons in this: that the price of success must be paid, just as the price must be paid for land, for gold, or for anything else of value. * * * * * "chinese" by the way of south africa. from distant south africa comes the following. it is not quite new, if it did come so far, but we print it, partly because it always stimulates, and partly to oblige the sender, j. g. tanté, who is a young stamp-collector of that distant place where we have so many other round table members--somerset east, cape colony, south africa. here is the story: a chinaman died, leaving his property by will to his three sons as follows: "to fuen-huen, the eldest, one-half thereof; to nu-pin, his second son, one-third thereof; and to ding-bat, his youngest, one-ninth thereof." when the property was inventoried, it was found to consist of nothing more nor less than seventeen elephants, and it puzzled these three heirs how to divide the property according to the terms of the will without chopping up seventeen elephants, and thereby seriously impairing their value. finally they applied to a wise neighbor, suen-punk, for advice. suen-punk had an elephant of his own. he drove it into the yard with the seventeen, and said: "now we will suppose that your father left these eighteen elephants. fuen-huen, take your half and depart." so fuen-huen took nine elephants and went his way. "now, nu-pin," said the wise man, "take your third and go." so nu-pin took six elephants and travelled. "now, ding-bat," said the wise man, "take your ninth and begone." so ding-bat took two elephants and vamosed. then suen-punk took his own elephant and drove him home again. query: was the property divided according to the terms of the will? [illustration: ivory soap] when office work has tried the nerves and taxed both hands and brain, a quick, cool wash with ivory serves to soothe and ease the strain. copyright, , by the procter & gamble co., cin'ti. nov. and dec. numbers free on all new yearly subscriptions for babyland and little men and women received by the publishers before jan. st, . subscribe now and get numbers for a year's subscription "_these publications give the children the right taste for reading, and help to an extent that is beyond expression in making them intelligent and in educating the moral nature, while furnishing them delightful entertainment._"--herald and news. * * * * * babyland enlarged _ cts. a year._ sample copy free. the babies' own magazine. for baby, up to the six-year-old. little men and women the only magazine edited especially for children from to . _$ . a year. sample copy free._ * * * * * alpha publishing company, boylston st., boston, mass. popular football books * * * * * a primer of college football by w. h. lewis. illustrated from instantaneous photographs and with diagrams. mo, paper, cents. there is probably no other man in america who has had as much football experience or who knows more about the game than mr. lewis.... of value not only to beginners, but to any one who wishes to learn more about football.... we heartily recommend it as the best practical guide to football we have yet discovered.--_harvard crimson_, cambridge. written by a man who has a most thorough knowledge of the game, and is in language any novice may understand.--_u. of m. daily_, university of michigan. will be read with enthusiasm by countless thousands of boys who have found previous works on the subject too advanced and too technical for beginners.--_evangelist_, n. y. beginners will be very grateful for the gift, for no better book than this of mr. lewis's could be placed in their hands.--_saturday evening gazette_, boston. _new edition of_ camp's american football by walter camp. new and enlarged edition. mo, cloth, $ . . the progress of the sport of football in this country, and a corresponding growth of inquiry as to the methods adopted by experienced teams, have prompted the publication of an enlarged edition of this book. should any of the suggestions herein contained conduce to the further popularity of the game, the object of the writer will be attained.--_author's preface._ _by the same author:_ =football facts and figures.= post vo, paper, cents. * * * * * harper & brothers, publishers, new york [illustration: just a trifle under the weather.] * * * * * now she knows. hattie is no longer in doubt. she has often heard good people declare that it was "raining cats and dogs," and for a time believed that they were romancing, or, at least, prevaricating. now she thinks they were speaking the truth. "if it doesn't rain cats and dogs sometimes," says hattie, "how do the skye-terriers get here? that's what i want to know." * * * * * "where did you go last summer, jacky?" "we didn't go," said jacky. "we staid home." * * * * * an item for sailors. here is an important statement--if true--for those interested in sailing. an english newspaper says that while it is hard to believe that the speed of a sailing-vessel can be increased by boring holes in her sails, an italian sea-captain nevertheless claims to have conducted experiments which go a long way towards proving it. his theory is that the force of the wind cannot fairly take effect on an inflated sail, because of the cushion of immovable air which fills up the hollow. to prevent the formation of this cushion, the captain bored a number of holes in the sail. these holes let through the air which would otherwise have been retained in the hollow of the sail, and allowed the wind to exercise its whole power by striking fairly against the sail itself. several trials of this device have been made, and it has been found that in a light wind a boat with ordinary sails made four knots, while with the perforated sails she covered five and a quarter knots. in a fresh breeze she made seven knots with the ordinary and eight and three-quarter knots with the perforated sails; and in a strong wind she made eight knots with the old and ten knots with the new sails. this gain--from twenty to twenty-five per cent.--is of so much importance that the experiments will be repeated on a larger scale. * * * * * the jocund wind. for a practical joker there is nothing like the wind. it blows clothing hung out to dry from one neighbor's yard into another; it will whisk your hat off in a jiffy, and compel you to make yourself a spectacle chasing after it; it is worse than the small boy who removes gates on all-halloween, for it not only removes gates, but sky-lights and window-shutters. worst of all, it is no respecter of persons. it will prank with a king as readily as with a beggar, and years ago in france it had its joke with no less a person than the prince-president himself--the one who subsequently overthrew the republic and proclaimed the empire, with himself as emperor, napoleon iii. according to the chronicles, the way of it was this: when the prince-president, on his journey through france, came to bordeaux, a triumphal arch had been erected for him by the prefect at the entrance to the town. a wreath suspended by a rope was to be let down on his head as he passed under it, and the arch bore this inscription: "he has well deserved it." but a gust of wind carried off the wreath, so there was nothing left but the rope with this legend--"he has well deserved it." * * * * * this is a true story of peter apple, of oakland, marion county, indiana. he was a raw recruit when his company took part in an attempt to storm a battery at vicksburg. the fire of the rebels was so hot, however, that the union troops were forced to retreat. private apple was so excited, however, that he did not hear the command to retreat, and in the disorder of the contest rushed over the breastworks unharmed and grabbed a gunner by the collar. then he turned about and dragged the man back to the retreating indianians, and cried out: "boys, why did you not come on? every fellow might have had one!" * * * * * mrs. hope. "ethel, miss nerfus is coming to-day, and i want you to be mamma's good little girl." ethel (_aged five_). "oh yes, indeed, mamma! i'm always very particular about what i do when visitors are here." * * * * * [illustration: aunt samantha. "now i see why that youngster gave me these felt slippers for christmas."] produced from scanned images of public domain material at the internet archive.) [illustration: book's cover] [illustration: map of cuba] cuba its past, present, and future by a. d. hall [illustration: colophon] new york street & smith, publishers fulton street copyrighted by street & smith. contents. chapter page. i.--discovery and early history ii.--the british occupation--spain's gratitude iii.--cuba's early struggles for liberty iv.--the ten years' war v.--the virginius embroglio vi.--again spain's perfidy vii.--some cuban heroes viii.--cuban tactics ix.--weyler the butcher x.--the crime of the century xi.--two methods of warfare; the spanish and the cuban xii.--the butcher's campaign xiii.--america's charity and spain's diplomacy xiv.--the last days of peace xv.--the topography and resources of cuba xvi.--what will the future be? cuba its past, present, and future chapter i. discovery and early history. "the goodliest land that eye ever saw, the sweetest thing in the world." such was columbus' opinion of cuba, just after he first beheld it, and, after the lapse of four hundred years, the words, making due allowance for the hyperbole of enthusiasm, still hold good. and this, too, in spite of all the trials and tribulations which the fair "pearl of the antilles" has been forced to undergo at the hands of her greedy and inhuman masters. the eyes of all the world are now upon this indescribably beautiful and fertile country. like andromeda, she has been shuddering and gasping in the power of a monster, but at last a perseus has come to her rescue. somewhat tardily perhaps the united states, united now in every meaning of the word, has from pure philanthropy embraced her cause--the united states whose watchword, with a sturdy hatred of the oppressor, has ever been and always will be "freedom." the star of hope, symbolized by the lone star upon the cuban flag, and so long concealed by gloomy, threatening clouds, is now shining clear and bright; and all civilization is waiting with happy confidence for the day, god willing not far distant, when "cuba libre" shall be not only an article of creed, but an established fact. the island of cuba, the largest and richest of the west indian islands, and up to the present the most important of spain's colonial possessions, not so vast as they once were but still of no inconsiderable value, was discovered by columbus during his first voyage to the far west. for many centuries, even back to the time of solomon, the chief object of explorers had been a discovery of a passage to india and the fabulous wealth of the east. in the thirteenth century, marco polo, the famous venetian explorer, went far beyond any of his predecessors and succeeded in reaching pekin. he also heard of another empire which was called zipangri, the same that we now know as japan. when he returned and published what we are sorry to say was none too veracious an account, polo being only too ready to draw upon his imagination, other nations were fired by emulation. the portuguese were the first to achieve any positive result. early in the fifteenth century, inspired by an able and enterprising sovereign, they doubled cape non, discovered madeira, occupied the azores and reached the senegal and the cape verde islands. in , bartholomew diaz sighted the cape of good hope, which some ten years later vasco da gama, the most famous of all portuguese explorers, rounded, and then proceeded some distance toward india. it was after hearing the wonderful tales of these explorers that columbus became inspired with the idea of sailing westward on the unknown waters, expecting thus to reach india. after untold discouragements, and finally by the generosity of queen isabella, who was brought to believe in his conjectures, he set sail from palos, august , , with three small vessels manned by about ninety sailors. the following th of october he first sighted the western hemisphere, which, however, he thought to be asia, and by the way, lived and died in that belief. this land was one of the bahama islands, called by the natives guanahani, but christened by columbus as san salvador. it is now known as cat island. the th of the same month columbus discovered cuba, entering the mouth of a river in what he believed to be that "great land," of which he had heard so much. from the very beginning, it was as it has existed to the present day--the spaniards looked for gold and were determined to exploit their new possessions to the very last peseta that could be wrung from them. the island was first called juana, in honor of prince john, son of ferdinand and isabella; but, after ferdinand's death, it received the name of fernandina. subsequently, it was designated, after spain's patron saint, santiago, and still later ave maria, in honor of the virgin. finally it received its present name, the one originally bestowed upon it by the natives. cuba means "the place of gold," and spain has constantly kept this in mind, both theoretically and practically. at first, however, the answers received in cuba in reply to the questions of her discoverers as to the existence of gold were not satisfactory. it seemed as if this ne plus ultra to the spaniards was to be found in a neighboring and larger island, which has been known by the various names of hayti, hispaniola and santo domingo. the prospect of enrichment here was so inviting that the first settlement of spain in the new world was made in hayti. the aborigines seem to have made no resistance to the coming among them of a new race of people. they were apparently peaceful and kindly, dwelling in a state of happy tranquillity among themselves. their character is best demonstrated by an extract from a letter written by columbus to their catholic majesties, ferdinand and isabella: "the king having been informed of our misfortune expressed great grief for our loss and immediately sent aboard all the people in the place in many large canoes; we soon unloaded the ship of everything that was upon deck, as the king gave us great assistance; he himself, with his brothers and relations, took all possible care that everything should be properly done, both aboard and on shore. and, from time to time, he sent some of his relations weeping, to beg of me not to be dejected, for he would give me all that he had. i can assure your highnesses that so much care would not have been taken in securing our effects in any part of spain, as all our property was put together in one place near his palace, until the houses which he wanted to prepare for the custody of it were emptied. he immediately placed a guard of armed men, who watched during the whole night, and those on shore lamented as if they had been much interested in our loss. the people are so affectionate, so tractable and so peaceable, that i swear to your highnesses that there is not a better race of men nor a better country in the world. they love their neighbor as themselves, their conversation is the sweetest and mildest in the world, cheerful and always accompanied by a smile. and although it is true that they go naked, yet your highnesses may be assured that they have many very commendable customs; the king is served with great state, and his behavior is so decent that it is pleasant to see him, as it is likewise the wonderful memory which these people have, and their desire of knowing everything which leads them to inquire into its causes and effects." strange and far from pleasant reading this in the light of future events. by so-called savages the invading spaniards were treated with the utmost kindness and courtesy, while many generations later the descendants of these same spaniards, on this same island, visited nothing but cruelty and oppression upon those unfortunates who after all were of their own flesh and blood. as has been said, the first settlement of the spaniards was made on the island of hayti. but the dreams of enormous revenue were not realized, in spite of the fact that the natives were men, women and children reduced to slavery, and all the work that was possible, without regard to any of the dictates of humanity, was exacted from them. in spite of the fact, did we say? no, rather because of it. for, owing to the hardships inflicted upon them, the native population, which originally was considerably over a million, was reduced to some fifty thousand, and it was therefore impossible to extract from the earth the riches it contained. thus, does unbridled greed ever overleap itself. after its discovery, cuba was twice visited by columbus, in april, , and again in , but these visits do not seem to have been productive of any particular results. it was not until that the spaniards thought it worth while to colonize cuba, and only then because they believed that they had exhausted the resources of hayti, in other words, that that particular orange had been sucked dry. therefore they sent a band of three hundred men under diego velasquez, who had accompanied columbus on his second voyage, to make a settlement on the island. velasquez and his companions found the natives peaceful and happy, ruled over by nine independent chiefs. they met with but little resistance, and that little was easily overcome. soon the weak and guileless indians were completely subjugated. there was one instance which it is well worth while to relate here as showing the spanish character, which centuries have not changed, and which is as cruel and bloodthirsty to-day as it was then. there was one native chief, a refugee from hayti, named hatuey, who had had previous dealings with the spaniards, and knew what was to be expected from them. he had strongly opposed their invasion, was captured, and sentenced to be burned alive at the stake. as the flames curled about him, a franciscan monk held up a crucifix before him, urging him to abjure the impotent gods of his ancestors and embrace christianity. hatuey, knowing well that his conversion would not save him from a horrible death, and remembering all the atrocities he had seen committed, asked where heaven was and if there were many spaniards there. "a great many of then," answered the monk. "then," cried hatuey, "i will not go to a place where i may meet one of that accursed race. i prefer to go elsewhere." hatuey's death ended all rebellion, if struggling for one's rights can be rebellion, and the iron hand of tyranny, whose grasp has never since been relaxed, closed firmly upon the beautiful island. three hundred of the natives were given as slaves to each spaniard, but, as in hayti, it was found that they were not strong enough for the enormous tasks their masters would have imposed upon them. so negro slaves were imported from the mother country, and their descendants remained in the bonds of serfdom for centuries. the first permanent settlement was made at santiago de cuba, on the southeastern coast, the scene of admiral sampson's recent brilliant achievements, and this was for a long time the capital of the colony. then came trinidad, and in a town was started called san cristoval de la habana, which name was transferred four years later to the present capital, the first named place being rechristened batabana. the natives were treated with the utmost cruelty, so cruelly, in fact, that they were practically exterminated. only a comparatively few years after the settlement of the island there were scarcely any of them left. the result of this short sighted policy on the part of spain was that agriculture declined to an enormous extent, and cuba became virtually a pastoral country. in , the king appointed as captain-general hernando de soto, the picturesque adventurer, who was afterwards famous as the discoverer of the mississippi and for his romantic search for the fountain of eternal youth. all powers, both civil and military, were vested in the captain-general, the title bestowed upon the governors, although many of them were civilians. shortly after this appointment, havana was reduced to ashes by a french privateer, and de soto built for the city's protection the castillo de la fuerza, a fortress which still exists. but this precaution proved ineffectual, as in , the city which had gained considerably in importance, as it had now become the capital, was again attacked and partially destroyed by the french. two other fortresses were then constructed, the punta and the morro. the discovery of mexico and other countries drew away from the island the majority of its working population, and the government passed a law imposing the penalty of death upon all who left it. spain also imposed the heaviest trade restrictions upon cuba. it was exploited in every direction for the benefit of the mother country and to the exclusion of every one else. all foreigners, and even spaniards not natives of castile, were prohibited from trading with the island or settling in it. the consequence was that the increase of population was slow, the introduction of negroes, whose labor was most essential for prosperity, was gradual, and the progress and growth of the island were almost stopped. moreover, spain was ruler of the greater part of the atlantic, and a most despotic ruler she proved herself to be. numerous tales are told of the atrocities committed upon navigators, especially those of england. when cromwell, who caused many liberal ideas to be introduced into england, tried to induce spain to abolish the inquisition and to allow the free navigation of the atlantic, the spanish ambassador replied: "for my master to relinquish those prerogatives would be the same as to put out both his eyes." one instance of spain's cruelty, for which, however, she suffered a well-merited retribution, may be related here. in , a party of french huguenots settled in florida near the mouth of the river st. john. a certain menendez, who was sailing under orders to "gibbet and behead all protestants in those regions," fell upon the colonists and massacred all he could find. some of the settlers, who happened to be away at the time, shortly afterward fell into the hands of menendez, who hanged them all, placing this inscription above their heads: "not as frenchmen, but as heretics." in , however, a french expedition surprised a body of spaniards who had undertaken to found st. augustine, and in their turn hanged these settlers, "not as spaniards, but as murderers." hampered and oppressed as they were, deprived of a free and convenient market for the produce of the soil by reason of the monopolies imposed by the mother country, it is not strange that the cubans had recourse to smuggling, and this was especially the case after the british conquest of jamaica in . so universal did the practice become, that when captain-general valdez arrived, he found that nearly all the havanese were guilty of the crime of illicit trading, the punishment of which was death. at the suggestion of valdez, a ship was freighted with presents for the king, and sent to spain with a petition for pardon, which was finally granted. but the whole of europe was against spain in her arrogant assumption of the suzerainty of the new world. especially were her pretensions condemned and resisted by the english, french, portuguese and dutch, all of whom were engaged in colonizing different portions of america. then arose a body of men, who were productive of most important results. these were known as buccaneers, and were practically a band of piratical adventurers of different nationalities, united in their opposition to spain. hayti, as has already been intimated, had been almost depopulated by the oppressive colonial policy of spain. the island had become the home of immense herds of wild cattle, and it was the custom of the smugglers to stop there to provision their ships. the natives, which were still left, had learned to be skilled in preserving the meat by means of fire and smoke, and they called their kilns "boucans." the smugglers, besides obtaining what they desired for their own use of this preserved meat, established an extensive illicit trade in it. hence, they obtained the name of buccaneers. spanish monopolies were the pest of every port in the new world, and mariners of the western waters were filled with a detestation, quite natural, of everything spanish. gradually, the ranks of the buccaneers were recruited. they were given assistance and encouragement, direct and indirect, by other nations, even in some cases being furnished with letters-of-marque and reprisal as privateers. the commerce of spain had been gradually dwindling since the defeat of the so-called invincible armada, and the buccaneers commenced now to seize the returning treasure ships and to plunder the seaboard cities of cuba and other spanish possessions. even havana itself was not spared by them. the buccaneers, indefensible though many of their actions were, had a great influence upon the power and colonial tactics of spain. beyond this, they opened the eyes of the world to the rottenness of the whole system of spanish government and commerce in america, and undoubtedly did much to build up the west indian possessions of england, france and holland. it is curious to note here the career of one of their most famous leaders, an englishman named morgan. he was barbarous in the extreme and returned from many expeditions laden with spoil. but, finally, he went to jamaica, turned respectable and was made deputy-governor of the island. he died, by favor of charles ii., the "gallant" sir henry morgan. but in , the european powers generally condemned the buccaneers. in spite of the lessons they had received, and the universal protest of other nations, the spaniards, obstinate then as ever, refused to change their policy. they persisted in closing the magnificent harbors of cuba to the commerce of the rest of the world, and that, too, when spain could not begin to use the products of the island. still she could not and would not allow one bit of gold to slip from between her fingers. she has always held on with eager greed to all that she could lay her hands on. it is certainly food for the unrestrained laughter of gods and men that she has recently been sneering at the united states as a nation of traders and money grubbers. chapter ii. the british occupation--spain's gratitude. in the early years of the eighteenth century, cuba was more or less at peace, that is so far as spain, a degenerate mother of a far more honorable daughter, would allow her to be at peace, and she increased in population, and, to a certain extent, in material prosperity. but in , a revolt broke out, a revolt which was thoroughly justified. spain felt that the agricultural wealth of the island was increasing, and she desired for herself practically the whole of the advantages which accrued from it. therefore, she demanded a royal monopoly of the tobacco trade. this demand was strenuously and bitterly opposed by the cubans. the captain-general, raja, was obliged to flee, but finally the trouble was ended, and spain, by might far rather than by right, had her way. the monopoly was established. but the oppressive government led to another uprising in , which again was quickly quelled. twelve of the leaders were hanged by guazo, who was at that time the captain-general. twice, therefore, did the one who was in the wrong conquer, simply from the possession of superior force. it is said that the mills of god grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. and in the light of recent events, this seems to be, and in fact, so far as human intelligence can determine, it is true. richard le galliene, to-day, toward the end of the nineteenth century, speaks in clarion tones, as follows: "spain is an ancient dragon, that too long hath curled its coils of blood and darkness about the new-born world. think of the inquisition think of the netherlands! yea! think of all spain's bloody deeds in many times and lands. and let no feeble pity your sacred arms restrain; this is god's mighty moment to make an end of spain." about this time, that is, from to , cuba, chiefly, if not almost entirely, at havana, became a ship building centre, of course, once more, at least for a time, to the advantage of spain. in all, there were constructed some one hundred and twenty-five vessels, carrying amongst them four thousand guns. these ships comprised six ships of the line, twenty-one of seventy to eighty guns each, twenty-six of fifty to sixty guns, fourteen frigates of thirty to forty guns and fifty-eight smaller vessels. but then spain became jealous--imagine a parent jealous of the success of its child!--and the ship-building industry was peremptorily stopped. during the present century, in cuba only the machinery of one steamer, the saqua, has been constructed, and two ships, one a war steamer and one a merchant steamer, have been built at havana. what a commentary on the dominating and destructive policy--self-destructive policy, too--of spain! in , there arose in england a popular excitement for a war against spain. one of the chief incidents which led to this was an episode which caused thomas carlyle to call the strife that followed "the war of jenkins' ear." the english had persisted in maintaining a trade with cuba in spite of spain's prohibition. a certain captain jenkins, who was in command of an english merchantman, was captured by a spanish cruiser. his ship was subjected to search, and he himself, according to his own declaration, put to the torture. the spaniards, however, could find little or nothing of which to convict him, and, irritated at this they committed a most foolish act, a deed of childish vengeance. they cut off one of his ears and told him to take it back to england and show it to the king. jenkins preserved his mutilated ear in a bottle of spirits, and, in due course of time, appeared himself before the house of commons and exhibited it to that body. the excitement ensuing upon the proof of this outrage to a british subject beggars description. walpole was at that time prime minister, and, although essentially a man of peace, he found it impossible to stem the tide, and public sentiment compelled him to declare war against spain. this war, however, was productive of but little result one way or the other. but before long another struggle ensued, which was far more reaching in its consequences. in , what is known in history as the seven years war, broke out. this seems to have been a mere struggle for territory, and, besides a duel between france and england, involved austria, with its allies, france, russia and the german princes against the new kingdom of prussia. this naturally led to an alliance between england and prussia. towards the end of the war, early in , hostilities were declared against spain. an english fleet and army, under lord albemarle, were sent to cuba. the former consisted of more than two hundred vessels of all classes, and the latter of fourteen thousand and forty-one men. the opposing spanish force numbered twenty-seven thousand six hundred and ten men. with the english, were a large number of americans, some of whom figured later more or less prominently in the war of the revolution. israel putnam, the hero of the breakneck ride at horseneck, and general lyman, under whom putnam eventually served, were among these, as was also lawrence washington, a brother of "the father of his country." by the way, the american loss in cuba during this campaign was heavy. very few, either officers or men, ever returned home. most of those who were spared by the spanish bullets succumbed to the rigors of the tropical climate, to which they were unaccustomed and ill-prepared for. may this experience of our forefathers in the last century not be repeated in the persons of our brothers of the present! the defense of havana was excessively obstinate, and the cuban volunteers covered themselves with glory. but, in spite of the superior force of the spanish, the english were finally successful. taking all things into consideration, it was a wonderful feat of arms, one of which only the anglo-saxon race is capable. nevertheless, it was only after a prolonged struggle that the victory was complete. at last, on the th of july, morro castle surrendered, and about two weeks afterward, the city of havana capitulated. the spoil divided among the captors amounted to about four million seven hundred thousand dollars. the english remained in possession of cuba for something like six mouths, and during that time instituted many important and far-reaching reforms, so much so in fact that when the spaniards regained possession, they found it very difficult to re-establish their former restrictive and tyrannous system. for instance, the sanitary condition of havana, which was atrocious even in those comparatively primitive days of hygiene, was vastly improved. all over the island, roads were opened. during the time of the english occupation, over nine hundred loaded vessels entered the port of havana, more than in all the previous entries since the discovery. the commerce of the island improved to a remarkable extent, and for the first time the sugar industry began to be productive. if the british had remained in possession of cuba, it is probable that that unhappy island would have been spared much of its misery and would have been as contented, prosperous and loyal as canada is to-day. it really seemed as if an era of prosperity had begun, when by the treaty of paris, in february, , most of the conquests made during the seven years' war were restored to their original owners, and among them unfortunately in the light of both past and future events, cuba to the misrule of the spaniards. england, however, was eminently the gainer by this treaty, as she received from france all the territory formerly claimed by the latter east of the mississippi, together with prince edward's island, cape breton, st. vincent, dominica, minorca and tobago. in return for cuba, spain ceded to england florida, while the spanish government received louisiana from france. on the other hand, martinique, guadeloupe, pondicherry and goree were returned to france. it was impossible for the spanish to undo in a day all the good that the english rule, short though it was, had accomplished. moreover, it was more than fortunate for cuba that there followed not long after two governors of more than ordinary ability and humanity, both of whom had her interests at heart, and they caused a period of unwonted prosperity, most grateful to the cubans, to follow. the first of these governors, or to give them their rightful title, captain-generals, was luis de las casas, who was appointed in . now, for the first time in her history, cuba really made rapid progress in commercial prosperity as well as in public improvements. las casas developed all branches of industry, allowed the establishment of newspapers, and gave his aid to the patriotic societies. he also introduced the culture of indigo, removed as far as his powers permitted the old trammels, which an iniquitous system had placed upon trade, and made noble efforts to bring about the emancipation of the enslaved indian natives. his attitude toward the newly established republic of the united states was most generous, and this helped largely to develop the industry of the island. by his judicious administration, the tranquillity of cuba remained undisturbed during the time of the rebellion in hayti, and this in face of the fact that strenuous efforts were made by the french, to form a conspiracy and bring about an uprising among the free people of color in cuba. another thing that will redound forever to the credit of las casas and which should make his memory beloved by all americans--it was through his efforts that the body of columbus was removed from hayti where it had been entombed and deposited in its present resting-place in the cathedral of havana. in , las casas was succeeded by another just and philanthropic governor, the count of santa clara. the latter greatly improved the fortifications which then guarded the island and constructed a large number of others, among them the bateria de santa clara, just outside havana, and named in his honor. it was undoubtedly due in a very great measure to the kindly policies of these two noble and far seeing men that cuba at that time became confirmed in her allegiance to the mother country; and had they been followed by men of equal calibre of both mind and heart, it is more than probable that the history of cuba would have been devoid of stirring events. for, as the old saying has it: "happy nations have no history." in a number of french emigrants arrived from san domingo, and proved a valuable acquisition. in , a disastrous fire occurred in a suburb of havana, called jesu maria, and over eleven thousand four hundred people were rendered destitute and homeless. about this time, the star of napoleon bonaparte, the greatest of heroes or the greatest of adventurers, according to the point of view, was in the ascendant. almost without exception there was not a country in europe that had not felt the weight of his heavy hand, and, to all intents and purposes, he was the master of the continent. spain was by no means to escape his greed for conquest and power. her country was overrun and ravaged by his victorious armies. her reigning family was driven away. napoleon deposed the descendant of a long line of bourbons, ferdinand vii., and placed his own brother, joseph bonaparte, upon the throne. then the attitude and the action of cuba were superb. her loyalty was unwavering. every member of the provincial council declared his fidelity to the old dynasty, and took an oath to defend and preserve the island for its legitimate sovereign. more than this--the cubans followed this declaration up by deeds, which ever speak louder than mere words. they made numerous voluntary subscriptions, they published vehement pamphlets, and they sent their sons to fight and shed their blood for the agonized mother country. for this, cuba received the title of "the ever faithful isle," by which it has been known ever since. a very pretty compliment truly! but let us see in what other and more substantial ways was cuba's magnificent fidelity rewarded. the answer is as brief as it is true. in no way whatever. many promises were made at the time by the provisional government at seville, chief among them being that all spanish subjects everywhere should have equal rights. but not one of these promises was ever kept. on the contrary, it was not long before the oppression became greater than ever. there were deprivation of political, civil and religious liberty, an exclusion of the islanders from all public offices, and a heavy and iniquitous taxation to maintain the standing army and navy. clothed as they were with the powers of an oriental despot, most of the captain-generals from spain covered themselves with infamy, the office as a rule having been sought (and this was distinctly realized by the spanish government) only as an end and means to acquire a personal fortune. to realize the practically absolute authority given to the captain-generals, it is only necessary to read the royal decree promulgated after joseph bonaparte had been deposed and the bourbon king, ferdinand, restored to the throne. a portion of this amazing document is as follows: "his majesty, the king our lord, desiring to obviate the inconveniences that might, in extraordinary cases, result from a division of command, and from the interferences and prerogatives of the respective officers: for the important end of preserving in that precious island his legitimate sovereign authority and the public tranquility, through proper means, has resolved, in accordance with the opinion of his council of ministers, to give to your excellency the fullest authority, bestowing upon you all the powers which by the royal ordinances are granted to the governors of besieged cities. in consequence of this his majesty gives to your excellency the most ample and unbounded power, not only to send away from the island any persons in office, whatever their occupation, rank, class or condition, whose continuance therein your excellency may deem injurious, or whose conduct, public or private, may alarm you, replacing them with persons faithful to his majesty, and deserving of all the confidence of your excellency; but also to suspend the execution of any order whatsoever, or any general provision made concerning any branch of the administration as your excellency may think most suitable to the royal service." for over one hundred and seventy years these orders have received little or no change, and they still remain practically the supreme law of cuba. this was the way that magnanimous, grateful, chivalrous spain began to reward "the ever faithful isle" for its unparalleled loyalty and devotion. and heaven save the mark! this was only the beginning. "that precious island," says the royal decree. precious! there was never a truer word spoken. for spain has always loved cuba with a fanatical, gloating passion, as the fox loves the goose, as midas loved gold, and as in the case of midas, this love has eventually led to her destruction. chapter iii. cuba's early struggles for liberty. it was in that the bonapartist regime came to an end in spain, and ferdinand vii. reascended the throne. in the very beginning he paid no attention to the constitution; he dissolved the cortes and did his best to make his monarchy an absolute one. again, as has been said, cuba felt the yoke of his despotism, all previous promises, when the aid of the island was to his advantage, being as completely ignored as if they had never been made. in spanish america, revolutionary movements had been begun some three years before, and after stubborn warfare, buenos ayres, venezuela and peru finally succeeded in obtaining complete independence from spanish authority. from all these countries, swarms of spanish loyalists made their way to cuba, and were ordered to be maintained at the expense of the island. spain also desired to make of cuba a military station, whence she could direct operations in her efforts to reconquer the new republic. this plan was vehemently opposed by the cubans. discontent rapidly fomented and increased throughout the island. numerous secret political societies were formed, and there arose two great opposing factions, the one insisting that the liberal constitution granted by the provisional government of seville at the time the bourbon king was deposed should be the fundamental law of cuba, while the other proclaimed its partisanship of rigid colonial control. in , hayti declared its independence of spain, and in the same year florida passed into the possession of the united states. both these events increased the feeling of unrest and discontent in cuba, and this was further augmented by the establishment of a permanent military commission, which took cognizance of even ordinary offenses, but particularly of all offenses against disloyalty. an attempt at revolution, the purpose being the establishment of a republic, was made in by the "soles de bolivar" association. it was arranged that uprisings should take place simultaneously in several of the cuban cities, but the plans became known to the government and the intended revolution was nipped in the bud, all the leaders being arrested and imprisoned the very day on which it had been arranged to declare independence. in cuban refugees in mexico and in some of the south american republics planned an invasion of cuba to be led by simon bolivar, the great liberator of colombia, but it came to nothing, owing to the impossibility of securing adequate support both of men and money. a year or two later these same men attempted another uprising in the interests of greater privileges and freedom. a secret society, known as the "black eagle" was organized, with headquarters at mexico, but with a branch office and recruiting stations in the united states. this invasion, however, also proved abortive, owing chiefly to the determined opposition displayed by the slave-holders both in the united states and cuba. the ringleaders were captured and severely punished by the spanish authorities. the struggles for freedom had attracted the attention of the people of the united states and were viewed by them with ever-increasing interest and sympathy. after the acquisition of florida, the future of the island of cuba became of more or less importance to the people of the united states and has remained so to the present day. as president cleveland said in his message of december, : "it is so near to us as to be hardly separated from our own territory." the truth of this is apparent when it is remembered that the straits of florida can be crossed by steamer in five hours. it began to be feared that cuba might fall into the hands of england or france and the governments of those countries as well as that of spain were informed that such a disposition of it would never be consented to. its position at the entrance of the gulf of mexico could not be disregarded. the american government declared its willingness that it should remain a spanish colony, but stated it would never permit it to become the colony of another country. in spain made a proposition that, in consideration of certain commercial concessions the united states should guarantee to her the possession of cuba; but this proposition was declined on the ground that such a thing would be contrary to the established policy of the united states. one of the most important consequences of spain's efforts to regain possession of the south american republics, the independence of which had been recognized by the united states, was the formulation of what has since been known as the "monroe doctrine." in his message of december , , president monroe promulgated the policy of neither entangling ourselves in the broils of europe, nor suffering the powers of the old world to interfere with the affairs of the new. he further declared that any attempt on the part of the european powers "to extend their system to any portion of this hemisphere" would be regarded by the united states as "dangerous to our peace and safety," and would accordingly be opposed. although since then there has been more or less friction with england over the monroe doctrine, at that time she greatly aided in its becoming established as a feature of international law, and strengthened the position of the united states, by her recognition of the south american republics. the spanish slave code, by which the slave trade, which had formerly been a monopoly, was made free, had given a great stimulus to the importation of slaves. it was almost brought to an end, however, by the energetic efforts of captain-general valdez. but the increased consumption of sugar in great britain, owing to reduction of duty and the placing of foreign and british sugars on the same basis gave a new stimulus to the traffic; and, in their own pecuniary interest, ever more prominent with them than any question of humanity, the spanish relaxed their efforts, and the slave trade attained greater dimensions than ever before. in there occurred an uprising which was more serious than any which had preceded it. the slaves on the sugar plantations in the neighborhood of matanzas were suspected of being about to revolt. there was no real proof of this, and in order to obtain evidence a large number of slaves were tortured. it was evident that spain was still ready, if in her opinion occasion required it, to have recourse to the barbarities of the old inquisitorial days. by evidence manufactured by such outrageous methods, one thousand three hundred and forty-six persons were tried and convicted, of whom seventy-eight were shot, and the others punished with more or less severity. of those declared guilty, fourteen were white, one thousand two hundred and forty-two free colored persons, and fifty-nine slaves. the project of annexation to the united states was first mooted in , after the proclamation of the french republic. the people of the slave states, in view of the increasing population and the anti-slavery feeling of the north and west were beginning to feel alarmed as to the safety of the "peculiar institution," and there was a strong sentiment among them in favor of annexing cuba and dividing it up into slave states. president polk, therefore, authorized the american minister at madrid to offer one hundred million dollars for cuba; but the proposition was rejected in the most peremptory manner. a similar proposal was made ten years afterward in the senate, but after a debate it was withdrawn. the next conspiracy, rebellion or revolution (it has been called by all these names according to the point of view and the sympathies of those speaking or writing of it) broke out in . it was headed by narciso lopez, who was a native of venezuela, but who had served in the spanish army, and had attained therein the rank of major-general. this was of considerable more importance than any of the outbreaks that had preceded it. the first attempt of lopez at an insurrectionary movement was made in the centre of the island. it proved to be unsuccessful, but lopez, with many of his adherents, managed to escape and reached new york, where there were a large number of his sympathizers. lopez represented the majority of the cuban population as dissatisfied with spanish rule, and eager for revolt and annexation to the united states. in , with a party small in numbers, he attempted to return to cuba, but the united states authorities prevented him accomplishing his purpose. he was undaunted by failure, however, and the following year, he succeeded in effecting another organization and sailed from new orleans on the steamer pampero, with a force which has been variously estimated at from three to six hundred men, the latter probably being nearer the truth. the second in command was w. s. crittenden, a gallant young kentuckian, who was a graduate of west point, and who had earned his title of colonel in the mexican war. they landed at morillo in the vuelta abajo. here the forces were divided; one hundred and thirty under crittenden remained to guard the supplies, while lopez with the rest pushed on into the interior. there had been no disguise in the united states as to the object of this expedition. details in regard to it had been freely and recklessly published, and there is a lesson to be learned even from this comparatively trivial attempt to obtain freedom as to a proper censorship of the press in time of warfare. the spanish government was fully informed beforehand as to all the little army's probable movements. the consequence was that lopez was surrounded and his whole force captured by the spanish. the expected uprising of the cuban people, by the way, had not taken place. hearing no news of his superior officer, crittenden at first made a desperate attempt to escape by sea, but, being frustrated in this, he took refuge in the woods. at last he and his little force, now reduced to fifty men, were forced to capitulate. the united states consul was asked to interfere in the case of crittenden, but refused to do so. it was said at the time that there were two reasons for this: first, there was no doubt whatever as to the nature of the expedition, and secondly, the consul, who does not appear to have been particularly brave, was alarmed for his personal safety. the trial, if trial it can be called, and condemnation followed with the utmost, almost criminal, celerity. in batches of six, crittenden and his fifty brave surviving comrades were shot beneath the walls of the fortress of alara. when the spaniards ordered crittenden, as was the custom, to kneel with his back to the firing party, the heroic young kentuckian responded: "no! i will stand facing them! i kneel only to my god!" it is stated that the bodies of the victims were mutilated in a horrible manner. there was no inconsiderable number of cubans who sympathized with lopez, but, held as they were under a stern leash, they did not dare to intercede for him. he was garroted at havana, being refused the honorable death of a soldier. some others of his comrades were shot, but most of them were transported for life. the sad fate of crittenden aroused the greatest indignation and bitterness in the united states, but the tenets of international law forbade anything to be done in the case. during the administration of president pierce, there occurred an incident which threatened at one time to lead to hostilities, and which was one of the first of the many incidents that have embittered the united states against spain as regards its administration of cuba. this was the firing on the american steamer, black warrior, by a spanish man-of-war. the black warrior was a steamer owned in new york, and plying regularly between that city and mobile. it was her custom both on her outward and homeward bound trips to touch always at havana. the custom laws were then very stringent, and she ought each time to have exhibited a manifest of her cargo. but still this was totally unnecessary, as no portion of her cargo was ever put off at havana. she was therefore entered and cleared under the technical term of "in ballast." this was done nearly thirty times with full knowledge and consent of the spanish revenue officers; and, moreover the proceeding was in accordance with a general order of the cuban authorities. but in february, , the steamer was stopped and fired upon in the harbor of havana. the charge brought against her was that she had an undeclared cargo on board. this cargo was confiscated, and a fine of twice its value imposed. the commander of the vessel, captain bullock, refused to pay the fine, and declared that the whole proceeding was "violent, wrongful and in bad faith." but, obtaining no redress, he hauled down his colors, and, carrying them away with him, left the vessel as a spanish capture. with his crew and passengers, he made his way to new york, and reported the facts to the owners. the latter preferred a claim for indemnity of three hundred thousand dollars. after a tedious delay of five years, this sum was paid, and so the matter ended. the affair of the black warrior was one of the cases that led to the celebrated ostend conference. this conference was held in at ostend and aix-la-chapelle by messrs. buchanan, mason and soule, united states ministers at london, paris and madrid, and resulted in what is known as the ostend manifesto. the principal points of this manifesto were as follows: "the united states ought if possible to purchase cuba with as little delay as possible. "the probability is great that the government and cortes of spain will prove willing to sell it because this would essentially promote the highest and best interests of the spanish people. "the union can never enjoy repose nor possess reliable securities as long as cuba is not embraced within its boundaries. "the intercourse which its proximity to our coast begets and encourages between them (the inhabitants of cuba) and the citizens of the united states has, in the progress of time, so united their interests and blended their fortunes that they now look upon each other as if they were one people and had but one destiny. "the system of immigration and labor lately organized within the limits of the island, and the tyranny and oppression which characterize its immediate rulers, threaten an insurrection at every moment which may result in direful consequences to the american people. "cuba has thus become to us an unceasing danger, and a permanent cause for anxiety and alarm. "should spain reject the present golden opportunity for developing her resources and removing her financial embarrassments, it may never come again. "extreme oppression, it is now universally admitted, justifies any people in endeavoring to free themselves from the yoke of their oppressors. the sufferings which the corrupt, arbitrary and unrelenting local administration necessarily entails upon the inhabitants of cuba cannot fail to stimulate and keep alive that spirit of resistance and revolution against spain which has of late years been so often manifested. in this condition of affairs it is vain to expect that the sympathies of the people of the united states will not be warmly enlisted in favor of their oppressed neighbors. "the united states has never acquired a foot of territory except by fair purchase, or, as in the case of texas, upon the free and voluntary application of the people of that independent state, who desired to blend their destinies with our own. "it is certain that, should the cubans themselves organize an insurrection against the spanish government, no human power could, in our opinion, prevent the people and government of the united states from taking part in such a civil war in support of their neighbors and friends." we have quoted thus largely from the ostend manifesto, because it seems to us, with one exception, to be so pertinent to the present status of affairs. the one exception is: we no longer desire the annexation of cuba. the present war is a holy war. it has been entered into wholly and entirely from motives of philanthropy, to give to a suffering and downtrodden people the blessings of freedom which we ourselves enjoy. moreover, the manifesto clearly shows that the causes of cuban uprising are of no recent date; and that, before the united states rose in its wrath, it was patient and long-suffering. although the senate debated the questions raised by the manifesto for a long time, nothing resulted from the deliberations. questions of extraordinary moment were arising in our own country, from which terrible results were to ensue, and for the time being, indeed for years to come, everything else sank into insignificance. meantime, the question of independence was still being agitated in cuba. general jose de la concha, in anticipation of a rising of the creole population threatened to turn the island into an african dependency. he formed and drilled black troops, armed the native born spaniards and disarmed the cubans. everything was got in readiness for a desperate defense. the cuban junta in new york had enlisted a large body of men and had made ready for an invasion. under the circumstances, however, the attempt was postponed. pinto and estrames, cubans taken with arms in their hands, were executed, while a hundred others were either condemned to the galleys or deported. general de la concha's foresight and vigilance unquestionably prevented a revolution, and for his services he was created marquis of havana. then ensued a period of comparative quiet, but the party of independence was only awaiting an opportunity to strike. long before this, spain had entered upon the downward path. "a whale stranded upon the coast of europe," some one designated her. she had been accumulating a debt against her, a debt which can never be repaid. and she has no one to blame for her wretched feeble, exhausted condition but herself--her own obstinacy, selfishness and perversity. truly, spain has changed but little, and that only in certain outward aspects, since the time of torquemada and the inquisition. she is the one nation of europe that civilization does not seem to have reached. the magnificent legacy left her by her famous son, christopher columbus, has been gradually dissipated; the last beautiful jewel in the crown of her colonial possessions, the "pearl of the antilles" is about to be wrested from her. her case is indeed a pitiable one, and yet sympathy is arrested when we remember that her reward to columbus for his magnificent achievements was to cover his reputation with obloquy and load his person with chains. chapter iv. the ten years' war. for about fourteen years after , the outbreaks in cuba were infrequent, and of little or no moment. to all intents and purposes, the island was in a state of tranquility. in september, , a revolution broke out in the mother country, the result of which was that queen isabella was deposed from the throne and forced to flee the country. this time cuba did not proclaim her loyalty to the bourbon dynasty, as she had done some sixty years before. she had learned her lesson. she knew now how spanish sovereigns rewarded loyalty, and the fall of isabella, instead of inspiring the cubans with sympathy, caused them to rush into a revolution, an action which, paradoxical as it may seem, was somewhat precipitate, although long contemplated. all cuba had been eagerly looking forward to the inauguration of political reforms, or to an attempt to shake of the pressing yoke of spain. at first it was thought that the new government would ameliorate the condition of cuba, and so change affairs that the island might remain contentedly connected with a country of which she had so long formed a part. but these hopes were soon dissipated, and the advanced party of cuba at once matured their plans for the liberation of the island from the military despotism of spain. a declaration of cuban independence was issued at manzanillo in october, , by carlos manuel de cespedes, a lawyer of bayamo. this declaration began as follows: "as spain has many a time promised us cubans to respect our rights, without having fulfilled her promises; as she continues to tax us heavily, and by so doing is likely to destroy our wealth; as we are in danger of losing our property, our lives and our honor under further spanish dominion, therefore, etc., etc." thus was inaugurated what was destined to prove the most protracted and successful attempt at cuban freedom, up to that time. it is certain that the grievances of the islanders were many, and this was even recognized to a certain extent in spain itself. in a speech delivered by one of the cuban deputies to the cortes in occurs this passage: "i foresee a catastrophe near at hand, in case spain persists in remaining deaf to the just reclamations of the cubans. look at the old colonies of the american continent. all have ended in conquering their independence. let spain not forget the lesson; let the government be just to the colonies that remain. thus she will consolidate her dominion over people who only aspire to be good sons of a worthy mother, but who are not willing to live as slaves under the sceptre of a tyrant." in the annual revenue exacted from cuba by spain was in the neighborhood of twenty-six million dollars; and plans were in progress by which even this great revenue was to be largely increased. not one penny of this was applied to cuba's advantage. on the contrary, it was expended in a manner which was simply maddening to the cubans. the officials of the island, be it understood, were invariably spaniards. the captain-general received a salary of fifty thousand dollars a year; at this time, this sum was twice as much as that paid to the president of the united states. the provincial governors obtained twelve thousand dollars each, while the archbishop of santiago de cuba and the bishop of havana were paid eighteen thousand dollars apiece. in addition to these large salaries, there were perquisites which probably amounted to as much again. even the lowest offices were filled by friends of spanish politicians. these officials had no sympathy with cuba, and cared nothing for her welfare, save in so far as they were enabled to fill their own pockets. the stealing in the custom houses was enormous. it has been estimated at over fifty per cent of the gross receipts. every possible penny was forced from the native planters under the guise of taxes and also by the most flagrant blackmail. by a system of differential duties, spain still managed to retain a monopoly of the trade to cuba while the colonists were forced to pay the highest possible rates for all they received from the mother country. the rates of postage were absurdly outrageous. for instance there was an extra charge for delivery. when a native cuban received a prepaid letter at his own door, he was obliged to pay thirty-seven and a half cents additional postage. the taxes on flour were so high that wheaten bread ceased to be an article of ordinary diet. the annual consumption of bread in spain was four hundred pounds for each person, while in cuba, it was only fifty-three pounds, nine ounces. in fact, all the necessaries of life were burdened with most iniquitous taxation. then again there was the interest on the national debt. while the spaniards paid three dollars and twenty-three cents per capita, six dollars and thirty-nine cents, nearly double, was exacted from the cubans. all these were the chief causes of the revolution which began in , and many of them still existed a few years ago and led to the last revolution. by the way, there is but little chance but that it will prove the last, bringing as its consequence, what has been struggled for so long--the freedom of cuba. the standard of revolt in the ten years war, as has been stated, was raised by carlos manuel de cespedes. he was well known as an able lawyer and a wealthy planter. in the very beginning, he was unfortunately forced to take action before he had intended to do so, by reason of news of the projected outbreak reaching the authorities in havana. a letter carrier, who from his actions gave rise to suspicions, was detained at cespedes' sugar plantation, la demajagua, and it was found that he was the bearer of an order for the arrest of the conspirators. with this information, immediate action became necessary. cespedes deemed it expedient to strike at once, and with only two hundred poorly equipped men, he commenced the campaign at yara. this place was defended by a spanish force too strong for the insurgents. but cespedes was not long in attracting to himself a most respectable following. at the end of a few weeks he found himself at the head of fifteen thousand men. the little army, however, was anything but well provided with arms and ammunition. among them were many of cespedes' former slaves whom the general promptly liberated. attacks were made on las tunas, cauto embarcardero, jiguana, la guisa, el datil and santa rita, in almost every case victory remaining with the insurgents. on the th of october it was decided to attack bayamo, an important town of ten thousand inhabitants. on the th the town was captured. the governor, with a small body of men, shut himself up in the fort, but a few days after was forced to capitulate. for the relief of bayamo, a spanish force under colonel quiros, numbering, besides cavalry and artillery, about eight hundred infantry, started out from santiago de cuba, but was defeated and driven back to santiago with heavy losses. the spanish general, count valmaseda, was sent from havana into the insurrectionary district, but was attacked and forced to return, leaving his dead on the field. afterwards valmaseda, who had increased his force to four thousand men, marched on bayamo. he received a severe check at saladillo, but eventually succeeded in crossing the cauto. the cubans saw the hopelessness of defending the place against such superior numbers, and, rather than have it fall into the hands of the enemy, burned the city. in december, general quesada, who afterward played a most prominent part in the war, landed a cargo of arms and took command of the army at camarguey. before the close of the year, spain, realizing how desperate was to be the struggle, had under arms nearly forty thousand troops which had been sent from europe, besides twelve thousand guerillas recruited on the island and some forty thousand volunteers organized for the defense of the cities. these latter were in many respects analogous to the national guard of the united states. they were raised from spanish immigrants, between whom and the native cubans have always existed a bitter enmity and jealousy. in the spring of , the revolutionists drew up a constitution, which provided for a republican form of government, an elective president and vice-president, a cabinet and a single legislative chamber. it also made a declaration in favor of the immediate abolition of slavery. cespedes was elected president and francisco aquilero vice-president. it is said that at the beginning of the war, before being driven to reprisals, the cubans behaved with all humanity. they took many spanish prisoners of war, but paroled them. on the other hand, the cuban prisoners were treated with the utmost treachery and cruelty. in all parts of the island, no cuban taken a prisoner of war was spared; to a man they were shot on the spot as so many dogs. valmaseda, the spanish general, in april, , issued the following proclamation, which speaks for itself: "inhabitants of the country! the re-enforcements of troops that i have been waiting for have arrived; with them i shall give protection to the good, and punish promptly those that still remain in rebellion against the government of the metropolis. "you know that i have pardoned those that have fought us with arms; that your wives, mothers and sisters have found in me the unexpected protection that you have refused them. you know, also, that many of those i have pardoned have turned against us again. "before such ingratitude, such villainy, it is not possible for me to be the man i have been; there is no longer a place for a falsified neutrality; he that is not for me is against me, and that my soldiers may know how to distinguish, you hear, the orders they carry: st. every man, from the age of fifteen years, upward, found away from his habitation and not proving a justified motive therefor, will be shot. d. every unoccupied habitation will be burned by the troops. d. every habitation from which does not float a white flag, as a signal that its occupants desire peace, will be reduced to ashes. "women that are not living at their own homes, or at the house of their relatives, will collect in the town of jiguana or bayamo, where maintenance will be provided. those who do not present themselves will be conducted forcibly." the second paragraph was flagrantly untrue. those who had fought against the spaniards had not been pardoned. on the contrary, they had been put to death. fearful atrocities had been committed in havana and elsewhere. to cite only a few instances: the shooting of men, women and children at the villanuesa theatre, at the louvre, and at the sack of aldama's house. valmaseda's proclamation raised a storm of protest from all civilized nations, and the spaniards, stiff and unbending, never wavered, but the policy embodied in valmaseda's proclamation remained their tactics until the end of the war. the united states was especially roused and disgusted. secretary fish, in a letter to mr. hale, then minister to spain, protested "against the infamous proclamation of general, the count of valmaseda." even a havanese paper is quoted as declaring that, "said proclamation does not even reach what is required by the necessities of war in the most civilized nations." the revolutionists were victorious in almost every engagement for the first two years, although their losses were by no means inconsiderable. it has even been acknowledged recently by a representative of spain to the united states that the greater and better part of the cubans were in sympathy with the insurrection. this opinion appeared in a statement made by senor de lome (whose reputation among americans is now somewhat unsavory) in the new york herald of february , . the cubans were recognized as belligerents by chili, bolivia, guatemala, peru, columbia and mexico. there were two important expeditions of assistance sent to the cubans in the early part of the war. one was under the command of rafael quesada, and, in addition to men, brought arms and ammunition, of which the insurgents were sadly in need. the other was under general thomas jordan, a west point graduate and an ex-officer in the confederate service. by the way, the south, with its well-known chivalry, has always evinced warm sympathy for the unfortunate cubans. to their glory be it spoken and remembered! quesada managed to reach the interior without resistance. but jordan, with only one hundred and seventy-five men, but carrying arms and ammunition for two thousand six hundred men, besides several pieces of artillery, was attacked at camalito and again at el ramon; he succeeded in repulsing the enemy and reaching his destination. soon after, as general quesada demanded extraordinary powers, he was deposed by the cuban congress, and general jordan was appointed commander-in-chief in his stead. in august, , the united states government offered to spain their good offices for a settlement of the strife. mr. fish, who was then secretary of state, proposed terms for the cession of the island to the cubans, but the offer was declined. this is only one of the many times when spain, in her suicidal policy, has refused to listen to reason. about this time the volunteers expelled general dulce, and general de rodas was sent from spain to replace him with a re-enforcement of thirty thousand men. general de rodas, however, remained in command only about six months, he in his turn being replaced by valmaseda, again at the dictation of the volunteers. speaking of these volunteers, who it will be remembered were recruited from spanish immigrants and who were peculiarly obnoxious to cubans of all classes, it will not be out of place to relate here an act of wanton cruelty upon their part. this took place in the autumn of . one of the volunteers had died, and his body had been placed in a public tomb in havana. later it was discovered that the tomb had been defaced, by some inscription placed upon it, no more, no less. suspicion fell upon the students of the university. the volunteers made a complaint and forty-three of the young students were arrested and tried for the misdemeanor. an officer of the regular spanish army volunteered to defend them, and through his efforts, they were acquitted. this verdict did not satisfy the volunteers, however. they demanded and obtained from the captain-general, who was a man of weak character, the convening of another court-martial two-thirds of which was to be composed of volunteers. was there ever such a burlesque of justice? the accusers and the judges were one and the same persons. of course, there could be but one result. all the prisoners were found guilty and condemned, eight to be shot, and the others to imprisonment and hard labor. the day after the court-martial (?) fifteen hundred volunteers turned out under arms and executed the eight boys. this incident filled the whole of the united states with horror and indignation. the action was censured by the spanish cortes, but the matter ended there. no attempt whatever was made to punish the offenders. the insurgents waged an active warfare until the spring of . they had at that time a force of about fifty thousand men, but they were badly armed and poorly supplied with necessities of all sorts. the resources of the spaniards were infinitely greater. about this time the cuban soldiers who had been fighting in the district of camaguey signified a desire to surrender and cease the conflict, provided their lives were spared. the proposition was accepted. their commander, general agramonte refused to yield, and he was left with only about thirty-five men who remained loyal to him. he formed a body of cavalry, and continued fighting for some two years longer, when he was killed on the field of battle. in january, , the edinburg review contained a very strong article on the condition of affairs in cuba, in the course of which it said: "it is well known that spain governs cuba with an iron and blood-stained hand. the former holds the latter deprived of political, civil and religious liberty. hence the unfortunate cubans being illegally prosecuted and sent into exile, or executed by military commissions in time of peace; hence their being kept from public meeting, and forbidden to speak or write on affairs of state; hence their remonstrances against the evils that afflict them being looked on as the proceedings of rebels, from the fact that they are bound to keep silence and obey; hence the never-ending plague of hungry officials from spain, to devour the product of their industry and labor; hence their exclusion from public stations, and want of opportunity to fit themselves for the art of government; hence the restrictions to which public instruction with them is subjected, in order to keep them so ignorant as not to be able to know and enforce their rights in any shape or form whatever; hence the navy and the standing army, which are kept in their country at an enormous expenditure from their own wealth, to make them bend their knees and submit their necks to the iron yoke that disgraces them; hence the grinding taxation under which they labor, and which would make them all perish in misery but for the marvelous fertility of their soil." in july, , pieltain, then captain-general, sent an envoy to president cespedes to offer peace on condition that cuba should remain a state of the spanish republic, but this offer was declined. in december of the same year, cespedes was deposed by the cuban congress, and salvador cisneros elected in his place. the latter was a scion of the old spanish nobility who renounced his titles and had his estates confiscated when he joined the revolution. he was and is distinguished for his patriotism, intelligence and nobility of character. it was his daughter, evangelina cisneros, who was rescued from the horrors of a spanish dungeon by americans, and brought to the united states. after his retirement, cespedes was found by the spaniards, and put to death, according to their usual policy: "slay and spare not." the war dragged on, being more a guerrilla warfare than anything else. the losses were heavy on both sides. there is no data from which to obtain the losses of the cubans, but the records in the war office at madrid show the total deaths in the spanish land forces for the ten years to have been over eighty thousand. spain had sent to cuba one hundred and forty-five thousand men, and her best generals, but while they kept the insurgents in check they were unable to subdue them. the condition of the island was deplorable, her trade had greatly decreased and her crops were ruined. for years there had been a constant waste of men and money, with no perceptible gain on either side. by , both parties were heartily weary of the struggle and ready to compromise. general martinez de campos was then in command of the spanish forces, and he opened negotiations with the cuban leader, maximo gomez, the same who was destined later to attain even more prominence. gomez listened to what was proposed, and after certain deliberations, terms of peace were concluded in february, , by the treaty of el zanjon. this treaty guaranteed cuba representation in the spanish cortes, granted a free pardon to all who had taken part directly or indirectly, in the revolution, and permitted all those who wished to do so to leave the island. at first glance these terms seem fair. but, as we shall see later, spain in this case as in all others was true to herself, that is, false to every promise she made. chapter v. the virginius embroglio. there was one event of the ten years' war which deserves to be treated somewhat in detail, as the universal excitement in the united states caused by the affair for a time appeared to make a war between the united states and spain inevitable. and the cubans hoped that this occurrence would lead to the immediate expulsion of the spaniards from cuba. the hopes thus raised, however, were doomed to meet with disappointment, as the diplomatic negotiations opened between the united states and spain led to a peaceable settlement of the whole difficulty. the trouble was this: on the st of october, , the virginius, a ship sailing under the american flag, was captured on the high seas, near jamaica, by the spanish steamer tornado, on the ground that it intended to land men and arms in cuba for the insurgent army. the virginius was a steamer which was built in england during the civil war, and was used as a blockade-runner. she was captured and brought to the washington navy yard. there she was sold at auction. the purchaser was one john f. patterson, who took an oath that he was a citizen of the united states. on the th of september, , the virginius was registered in the custom house of new york. as all the requisites of the statute were fulfilled in her behalf, she cleared in the usual way for curacoa, and sailed early in september for that port. it was discovered a good many years after that patterson was not the real owner of the vessel, but that, as a matter of fact, the money for her purchase had been furnished by cuban sympathizers, and that she was virtually controlled by them. from the day of her clearance in new york, she certainly did not return within the territorial jurisdiction of the united states. nevertheless, she preserved her american papers, and whenever she entered foreign ports, she made it a practice to put forth a claim to american nationality, which claim was always recognized by the authorities in those ports. there is no evidence whatever to show that she committed any overt act, or did anything that was contrary to international law. she cleared from kingston, jamaica, on the rd of october, , for costa rica. as president grant said in his message to congress, january th, , she was under the flag of the united states, and she would appear to have had, as against all powers except the united states, the right to fly that flag and to claim its protection as enjoyed by all regularly documented vessels registered as part of our commercial marine. still quoting president grant, no state of war existed conferring upon a maritime power the right to molest and detain upon the high seas a documented vessel, and it could not be pretended that the virginius had placed herself without the pale of all law by acts of piracy against the human race. (and yet this very thing is what the spaniards, without rhyme or reason, did claim. ever since they have been claiming what was false, as for instance their reports of the victories (!) in the american-spanish war. by so doing they have made themselves the laughing-stock of nations, for, although they never hesitate to lie, they do not know how to lie with a semblance of truth, which might be, far be it from us to say would be, a saving grace). if the papers of the virginius were irregular or fraudulent, and frankly they probably were, the offense was one against the laws of the united states, justifiable only in their tribunals. however, to return to facts, on the morning of the st of october, the virginius was seen cruising near the coast of cuba. she was chased by the spanish man-of-war tornado, captured, and brought into the harbor of santiago de cuba on the following day. one hundred and fifty-five persons were on board, many of whom bore spanish names. this was made a great point of by the spanish authorities, although as a matter of fact it proved nothing. this action was not only in violation of international law, but it was in direct contravention of the provisions of the treaty of . mr. e. g. schmitt was at that time the american vice-consul at santiago, and he lost no time in demanding that he should be allowed to see the prisoners, in order to obtain from them information which should enable him to protect those who might be american citizens, and also whatever rights the ship should chance to have. mr. schmitt was treated with the utmost discourtesy by the authorities, who practically told him that they would admit of no interference on his part, and insisted that all on board the virginius were pirates and would be dealt with as such. and indeed they were. the virginius was brought into santiago late in the afternoon of the first of november, and a court-martial was convened the next morning to try the prisoners. within a week fifty-three men had received the semblance of a trial and had been shot. meanwhile england, who even her worst enemies cannot deny, is always on the side of humanity, intervened. reports of the barbarous proceedings had reached jamaica, and h. m. s. niobe, under the command of sir lambton lorraine, was dispatched to santiago with instructions to stop the massacre. the niobe arrived at santiago on the eighth, and lorraine threatened to bombard the town unless the executions were immediately stopped. this threat evidently frightened the bloodthirsty governor, for no more shooting took place. it was a noble act on the part of sir lambton lorraine, and the american public appreciated it. on his way home to england, he stopped in new york. it was proposed to tender him a public reception, but this sir lambton declined. but by way of telling what a "brick" he was considered, a silver brick from nevada was presented to him, upon the face of which was inscribed: "blood is thicker than water. santiago de cuba, november, . to sir lambton lorraine, from the comstock mines, virginia city, nevada, u. s. a." president grant, through general daniel e. sickles, who then represented the united states at madrid, directed that a demand should be made upon spain for the restoration of the virginius, for the return of the survivors to the protection of the united states, for a salute to the flag, and for the punishment of the offending parties. when the news of the massacre reached washington, the secretary of state telegraphed minister sickles: "accounts have been received from havana of the execution of the captain and thirty-six of the crew and eighteen others. if true, general sickles will protest against the act as brutal and barbarous, and ample reparation will be demanded." minister sickles replied: "president castelar received these observations with his usual kindness, and told me confidentially that at seven o'clock in the morning, as soon as he read the telegram from cuba, and without reference to any international question, for that indeed had not occurred to him, he at once sent a message to the captain-general, admonishing him that the death penalty must not be imposed upon any non-combatant, without the previous approval of the cortes, nor upon any person taken in arms against the government without the sanction of the executive." about that time, a writer of some celebrity, who was also a war correspondent, named ralph keeler, mysteriously disappeared. although it was never proven, there is little doubt but that he was assassinated by the spaniards. then, as now, there was an intense hatred in the spanish breast against every citizen of the united states. as murat halstead expresses it, there seemed to be a blood madness in the air. mr. halstead, by the way, tells an anecdote of a madman, who seized a rifle with sabre attached and assaulted a young man who had asked him an innocent question. he knocked him down and stabbed him to death with a bayonet, sticking it through him a score of times as he cried: "cable my country that i have killed a rebel!" the murderer was adjudged insane. further comment is unnecessary. to return to the controversy over the virginius between the united states and spain. general sickles, as he had been instructed, made a solemn protest against the barbarities perpetrated at santiago. the spanish minister of state replied in a rather ill-humored way, and amongst other things, he said that the protest of america was rejected with serene energy. this somewhat ridiculous expression gave general sickles a chance to rejoin, which he did, as follows: "and if at last under the good auspices of senor carvajal, with the aid of that serenity that is unmoved by slaughter, and that energy that rejects the voice of humanity, which even the humblest may utter and the most powerful cannot hush, this government is successful in restoring order and peace and liberty where hitherto, and now, all is tumult and conflict and despotism, the fame of the achievement, not confined to spain, will reach the continents beyond the seas and gladden the hearts of millions who believe that the new world discovered by columbus is the home of freemen and not that of slaves." about this time, spain asked the good offices of england as an intervener, but to his glory be it spoken and to the nation which he represented, lord granville declined, "unless on the basis of ample reparation made to the united states." spain continued to dilly-dally and evade the question of her responsibility. on the th of november mr. fish telegraphed to minister sickles: "if no accommodation is reached by the close of to-morrow, leave. if a proposition is submitted, you will refer it to washington, and defer action." this was just after minister sickles had informed the authorities at washington that lord granville regarded the reparation demanded as just and moderate. on the th, however, just as the american minister was preparing to ask for his passports, close the legation and leave spain, he received a note from senor carvajal which conceded in part the demands of the united states. this proposition was virtually that the virginius and the survivors should be given up, but the salute was to be dispensed with, in case spain satisfied the united states within a certain time that the virginius had no right to carry the flag. after considerable correspondence an arrangement was finally arrived at, spain further agreeing to proceed against those who had offended the sovereignty of the united states, or who had violated their treaty rights. in his message, president grant says: "the surrender of the vessel and the survivors to the jurisdiction of the tribunals of the united states was an admission of the principles upon which our demand had been founded. i therefore had no hesitation in agreeing to the arrangement which was moderate and just, and calculated to cement the good relations which have so long existed between spain and the united states." the following words, spoken by secretary fish to admiral polo, in an interview during the progress of the negotiations, are worthy to be quoted: "i decline to submit to arbitration the question of an indignity to the flag. i am willing to submit all questions which are properly subjects of reference." on the th of december the virginius, with the american flag flying, was delivered to the united states at bahia honda. the vessel was unseaworthy. her engines were out of order and she was leaking badly. on the passage to new york she encountered a severe storm, and, in spite of the efforts of her officers and men, she sank off cape fear. the survivors of the massacre were surrendered at santiago de cuba on the th, and reached new york in safety. about eighty thousand dollars were paid by spain as compensation to the families of the american and british victims who perished at santiago. but no punishment was ever visited upon the governor who ordered the executions. there was a tremendous amount of feeling aroused in the united states over the virginius affair, and the government was severely criticized and censured for not avenging the inhuman butcheries and the insults to the flag. but it must be remembered that the government had a very hard task to deal with. there was little or no doubt but that the virginius, at the time of her capture was intended for an unlawful enterprise, in spite of captain fry's words in a letter to his wife just before his execution: "there is to be a fearful sacrifice of life from the virginius, and, as i think, a needless one, as the poor people are unconscious of crime and even of their fate up to now. i hope god will forgive me, if i am to blame for it." the clamor of the american people for revenge was fiery in its intensity, but the government did not yield to it, in which it was right. there has been more than one time in our history when if public opinion had been allowed to rule, the results would have been fatal; and the very men who were most abused, in the light of future events, have been praised for their wisdom and moderation. murat halstead sums up the whole matter in a clear and just manner. he says in his admirable book, "the story of cuba:" "it is not, we must say, a correct use of words to say that the united states was degraded by the virginius incident. in proportion as nations are great and dignified, they must at least obey their own laws and treaties. when grant was president of the united states and castelar was president of spain, there was a reckless adventure and shocking massacre, but we were not degraded because we did not indulge in a policy of vengeance." chapter vi. again spain's perfidy. before proceeding further, it is necessary to call attention to one very important matter which was the direct result of the ten years' war. if the insurgents accomplished nothing else, they may well be proud of this achievement. their own freedom they failed to obtain, but they were the cause of freedom being bestowed upon others. we refer to the manumission of the slaves. the spanish slave code, promulgated in , is admitted everywhere to have been very humane in its character. so much so that when trinidad came into the possession of the english, the anti-slavery party resisted successfully the attempt of the planters of that island to have the spanish law replaced by the british. once again, however, were the words of spain falsified by her deeds. spanish diplomacy up to the present day has only been another name for lies. for, notwithstanding the mildness of the code, its provisions were constantly and glaringly violated. in , a writer, who had personal knowledge of the affairs of cuba, declared that slavery in cuba was more destructive to human life, more pernicious to society, degrading to the slave and debasing to the master, more fatal to health and happiness than in any other slave-holding country on the face of the habitable globe. it was in cuba that the slaves were subjected to the coarsest fare and the most exhausting and unremitting toil. a portion of their number was even absolutely destroyed every year by the slow torture of overwork and insufficient sleep and rest. in the slave population of the island was estimated at eighty-four thousand; in , one hundred and seventy-nine thousand; in , two hundred and eighty-six thousand; in , four hundred and thirty-six thousand; in , three hundred and seventy-nine thousand, five hundred and twenty-three, and in , five hundred thousand, or about one-third of the entire population. in , two years after the beginning of the war, in which the colored people, both free and slaves, took a prominent part, the spanish legislature passed an act, providing that every slave who had then passed, or should thereafter pass, the age of sixty should be at once free, and that all yet unborn children of slaves should also be free. the latter, however, were to be maintained at the expense of the proprietors up to their eighteenth year, and during that time to be kept as apprentices at such work as was suitable to their age. slavery was absolutely abolished in cuba in . spain was therefore the last civilized country to cling to this vestige of barbarism, and she probably would not have abandoned it then had she not been impelled to by force and her self-interest. after the treaty of el zanjon, it was supposed by the cubans, and rightly too, had they been dealing with an honorable opponent and not a trickster, that the condition of cuba would be greatly improved. the treaty, in the first place, guaranteed cuba representation in the cortes in madrid. this was kept to the letter, but the spirit was abominably lacking. the peninsulars, that is, the spaniards in cuba, obtained complete control of the polls, and, by unparalleled frauds, always managed to elect a majority of the deputies. the deputies, purporting to come from cuba, might just as well have been appointed by the spanish crown. in other and plainer words, cuba had no representation whatever in the cortes. the cities of cuba were hopelessly in debt and they were not able to provide money for any municipal services. there were no funds to keep up the schools, and in consequence they were closed. as for hospitals and asylums, they scarcely existed. there was only one asylum for the insane in all the island, and that was wretchedly managed. this asylum was in havana. elsewhere, the insane were confined in the cells of jails. the public debt of spain was something enormous, and cuba was forced to pay a part of the interest on this which was out of all proportion. perez castaneda spoke of this in the spanish cortes in the following terms: "the debt of cuba was created in by a simple issue of three million dollars, and it now amounts to the fabulous sum of one hundred and seventy-five million dollars. what originated the cuban debt? the wars of santo domingo, of peru and of mexico. but are not these matters for the peninsula? certainly they are matters for the whole of spain. why must cuba pay that debt?" again, senor robledo, in a debate at madrid, after speaking of the fearful abuses existent in the government of havana, said: "i do not intend to read the whole of the report; but i must put the house in possession of one fact. to what do these defalcations amount? they amount to twenty-two million, eight hundred and eleven thousand, five hundred and sixteen dollars. did not the government know this? what has been done?" in it was alleged that the custom house frauds in cuba, since the end of the ten years war, amounted to over one hundred millions of dollars. it is enough to make one hold one's breath in horror. and, remember well, there was absolutely no redress for the suffering cubans by peaceful means. one more quotation. rafael de eslara of havana, when speaking of the misery of the island, thus summed up the situation: "granted the correctness of the points which i have just presented, it seems to be self-evident that a curse is pressing upon cuba, condemning her to witness her own disintegration, and converting her into a prey for the operation of those swarms of vampires that are so cruelly devouring us, deaf to the voice of conscience, if they have any; it will not be rash to venture the assertion that cuba is undone; there is no salvation possible." taxation on all sides was enormous, the two chief products of the island, sugar and tobacco, suffering the most. while other countries gave encouragement to their colonies, spain did everything she could to discourage her well-beloved "ever faithful isle." the cuban planter had to struggle along with a heavy tax on his crop, an enormous duty on his machinery, and an additional duty at the port of destination. america once rose in wrath against unjust taxation, but her grievances were as nothing in comparison with those of--we had almost written--her sister republic. may the inadvertency prove a prophecy! to show how the products of cuba, under this ghastly extortion have declined, we make the following statement, based on the most reliable statistics. in cuba furnished twenty-five per cent. of all the sugar of the world. in this had declined to ten and a half per cent. in , the export of cigars rated at forty dollars per one thousand amounted to ten millions, nineteen thousand and forty dollars. in it was five millions, three hundred and sixty-eight thousand, four hundred dollars, a loss of nearly one-half in five years. then besides all this, cuba had to pay the high salaries of the horde of spanish officials, nothing of which accrued to her advantage. there can be no doubt but that the treaty of el zanjon was a cheat, and its administration a gigantic scandal. can any fair-minded person think then that the cubans were wrong, when driven to the wall, oppressed beyond measure, goaded to madness by an inhuman master, they broke out once again into open revolt, determined this time to fight to the death or to obtain their freedom? chapter vii. some cuban heroes. although the natural resources of cuba are remarkable, as will be demonstrated later, and more than sufficient for all her people, a large number of cubans have, either of their own free will or by force become exiles. besides over forty thousand in the united states, there are a large number in the islands under british control, as well as throughout the west indies and in the south american republics. it is perfectly natural that these exiles should feel the deepest interest in their native land, and although spain has complained frequently of being menaced from beyond her borders, what else could she expect after the way in which she treated these exiled sons of hers? besides she has had no just cause for grievance, as the right for foreign countries to furnish asylums to political offenders has been recognized from time immemorial, and, unless some overt act be committed, there can be no responsibility on the part of such foreign countries. enough perhaps has been said to show that the cubans had every reason to once again rise in revolt, but in order that there may be no doubt as to the justice of their cause, let us recapitulate: spain has invariably drawn from the island all that could be squeezed out of it. in spite of her protests she has never done anything for cuba, all her aim being to replenish her own exhausted treasury and to enrich the functionaries of the spanish government. while cuba is a producing country, she has been refused the right to dispose of her produce to other countries except at ruinous rates, in spite of the fact that spain herself could not begin to consume all that cuba had to offer. the market of the island, by the way, from the very nature of things, is the united states, and not spain. the rules which limit importation have been most rigid. for instance, american flour cannot enter cuba free of duty, while it enters as a free product into spain. spain has governed cuba with a most arbitrary hand. the island has had nothing whatever to say as to the management of its own affairs. the cubans have purposely been kept in a state of ignorance, the system of education amounting practically to nothing. the spaniards have never kept one promise made, but after each promise have increased their oppression and tyranny. in senor sagasta laid before the cortes a project for reform in cuba; but the sense of this project was confused in the extreme; there was little hope that a reform planned with such little method could meet with any degree of successful realization. in fact there was little or no possibility that the abuses under which the island groaned would be removed. at last patience ceased to be a virtue. the present rising in cuba was begun toward the close of . the leader was jose marti, a poet and orator, who was then in new york. he at the outset, was the very soul of the revolutionary movement, and he held in his hands the threads of the conspiracy. he was a man of charming and captivating personality, strong in his own convictions and devoted body, heart and soul to the interests of his country. he was the son of a spanish colonel and when quite young was condemned, for what reason has never been known, to ten years imprisonment in havana. afterwards, he was sentenced to the galleys for life. when the amnesty was declared, after the ten years war, he was given back his freedom, but his resentment still continued and he vowed his life to obtaining the liberty of cuba. he went first to central america, and afterwards took up his residence in the united states. everywhere he preached what he considered a holy war. here and there he gathered together contributions, which he sent to cuba for the secret purchase of arms and ammunition. he met with many rebuffs and disappointments, but not for one moment did he doubt the justice of his cause or its ultimate success. he was not a visionary man, but there were those even among the ones he had won over by his impassioned words who looked upon him as the victim of hallucinations. that this was not true, the events of the past few years have fully proven. marti organized his first expedition in new york, and set sail for cuba with three vessels, the lagonda, the amadis and the baracoa, containing men and war materials. this expedition was stopped, however, by the united states authorities. later, marti joined gomez, cromlet, cebreco and the maceo brothers, all of whom had fought in the ten years war, at santo domingo, which was gomez' home. some description of these men, all of whom have done magnificent work for the freedom of their country, may not be out of place. maximo gomez is about seventy-five years of age, and he may perhaps be termed the "washington" of the fight for liberty. it will be remembered that he was a leader in the ten years war. he is a man of excellent judgment, and, in spite of his years, of marvelous mental and physical activity. no better man could the insurgents have selected as their general-in-chief. flor cromlet was a guerilla of unquestioned valor, who lost his life early in the campaign, but his name will live in the annals of free and independent cuba. his mother was a mulatto, but his father was a spaniard. the maceo brothers have been particularly distinguished. they were born of colored parents, and were of the type of the mulatto. both were men of indomitable courage. antonio maceo was born at santiago de cuba in . at the beginning of the ten years war, he was a mule driver, and could neither read nor write. he was one of the first to enlist in the cuban army, and soon showed his courage and intelligence. he was rapidly promoted to superior rank and became a terror to the spanish army. their one idea seemed to be to capture him, but apparently he possessed a charmed life. during his leisure moments, which it can be imagined were but few, he managed to learn to read and write. he was one of the last combatants to lay down his arms in the former war, and then only because he saw that further struggle would only end in loss of life without the winning of liberty. he was exiled and then travelled through america, studying constantly and ever endeavoring to improve himself. here was a poor, obscure, descendant of slaves who by sheer perseverance, of course coupled with natural ability, afterward held the armies of a great nation at bay. antonio maceo was killed in havana province in , probably through the treachery of one of his followers, and his brother died, but not until both had accomplished wonderful deeds of valor. it is a pity that they could not have lived to see the results of their unselfish patriotism. another mulatto who has won fame in the cause of "free cuba" is augustin cebreco. the "marion of cuba," as he was called, nestor aranguren, must not be forgotten. he was at the head of a little band of men, all members of the best havana families and graduates of the university. he was very much like the "swamp fox" of our revolution in the way he would undertake some daring raid, and then retreat into the long grass of the manigua to rest his tired horses and recruit his men. one of his most famous exploits was the capture of a train at the very gates of havana. aranguren treated his captives most kindly, with one exception, and in this he was justified. a man named barrios had often informed against the insurgents, and he was condemned to death. of him, aranguren said: "that cuban must die. i must rid my country of such an unnatural son. thank god, there are few such traitors!" the rest were allowed to go free. to one of the spaniards who were on the train, aranguren said: "if spain should grant a generous and liberal autonomy, peace is not only possible, but probable; but, if she should persevere in her false colors, she will not regain control of this island, until every true soldier of cuba is dead, and that will take a long time." the ill-fated aranguren died at the age of twenty-four. it was not until may, , that marti and the other leaders thought it wise to go to cuba. when they reached there, they found that the insurgents had already commenced the rebellion and had even gained some ground. at first the spanish authorities looked upon the insurrection as a trivial matter, nothing more serious than a negro riot. they believed that it would be speedily suppressed as spain had then in the island an army of nineteen thousand men, besides the fifty thousand volunteers, who could be called on in case of need. but, to make all sure, seven thousand more soldiers were sent over from spain. in addition to this, many men, who afterward were among the leaders of the insurgent party expressed their unqualified disapproval of the movement. and in this, they were undoubtedly sincere, as they had not the slightest idea that it could succeed. the general lack of sympathy and the universal criticism that met the little band of revolutionists unquestionably contributed much toward the relaxation of the vigilance of the government. but the government was soon to be undeceived. the insurrection became a very serious matter indeed. the insurgents pursued very much the same tactics that they had followed in the ten years war, that is, they would seldom risk an open battle, and the spaniards could gain but little ground against the guerilla methods of their opponents. the cubans were very badly equipped; in fact they had scarcely any war material whatever. they began by appropriating indiscriminately any fire arms wherever they could find them, from the repeating rifle to the shot gun with the ramrod. many of them were armed only with revolvers, and the majority of them had simply the "machete," a knife about nineteen inches in length. recruits constantly came to their ranks, however, and it was not long before they numbered over six thousand. a political crisis now took place in spain, and the conservative party came into power. premier canovas then appointed as governor-general of cuba, martinez campos, who had been so successful, by diplomacy rather than by anything else, in ending the ten years war. he landed at guantanamo, and before visiting havana, he issued the most elaborate instructions to every department of the military service, which now had been largely reinforced. in the early part of the war, a great misfortune befell the cubans, and that was in the loss of their beloved leader, jose marti. on the th of may, a part of the insurgent army camped upon the plains of dos rios, where they learned that the enemy was in the neighborhood, in safety, protected by a fort. the insurgents numbered about seven hundred cavalrymen, under the command of marti and gomez. the next morning they came upon the spanish outpost. gomez, who has always shown himself to be a prudent general, thought it would be wiser not to risk a battle, but to continue their route, as the object of the expedition was not skirmishing, but to attempt to penetrate into the province of puerto principe. but jose marti, in his fiery enthusiasm longed to fall upon the enemy; he declared that not to do so would be dishonor. gomez yielded. marti was mounted upon a very spirited horse. he was told that it was unmanageable, but he would not listen to reason. crying, "come on, my children!" and "viva cuba libre," he dashed upon the spanish, followed by his men. before this onslaught, the spaniards retreated, but in good order. gomez cried to his troops to rally, but marti, dragged on by his horse which he was unable to control, disappeared among the ranks of the enemy. he received a bullet above the left eye, another in the throat, and several bayonet thrusts in the body. led by gomez, who was heart broken at the fate of his old companion and friend, the insurgents charged upon the spaniards, but it was of no avail. the latter retained possession of the corpse of the gallant soldier, whose only fault was a too reckless bravery. and now it is a pleasure to be able to recount one noble act on the part of the spaniards, perhaps the only one in the whole course of the war. general campos, who was a just and honorable man, ordered the body of the illustrious patriot to receive decent burial, and one of the spanish officers even pronounced a sort of eulogy over the remains. there was a report that gomez had also been killed, but this was a mistake. about a mouth afterward he crossed the trocha and entered the province of puerto principe, more commonly known as the camaguey. the trocha, by the way, was an invention of campos in the preceding war, and was found to be of great value. it was practically a line of forts extending across the island between the provinces of puerto principe and santa clara, and it was intended that the insurgents should not be allowed to cross this line. other trochas were afterwards erected, but they have not proved of any extraordinary advantage in the present insurrection. an assembly, composed of representatives of all the bands that were under arms, met and elected the officers of the revolutionary government. salvador cisneros, otherwise known as the marquis of santa lucia, was elected president, the same office he had filled during the ten years war. the other officers were: vice-president, bartolomeo maso. secretary of state, rafael portuondo y tamayo. secretary of war, carlos roloff. secretary of the treasury, severo pina. general-in-chief, maximo gomez. lieutenant-general, antonio maceo. afterwards, at another election, as officers, according to the cuban constitution, only serve two years, there were replaced by the following: president, bartolomeo maso. vice-president, mendez capote. secretary of state, andres moreno de la torres. secretary of war, jose b. alemon. secretary of the treasury, ernesto fons sterling. maximo gomez still remained general-in-chief. gomez and campos were now pitted once more against each other, as they had been in the previous war. both men issued orders to their respective commands. gomez ordered the cubans to attack the small spanish outposts, capture their arms if possible setting at liberty every man who should deliver them up; to cut all railway and telegraph lines; to keep on the defensive and retreat in groups, unless the cubans were in a position to fight the enemy at great advantage; to destroy spanish forts and other buildings where any resistance was made by the enemy; to destroy all sugar crops and mills, the owners of which refused to contribute to the cuban war fund; and, finally to forbid the farmers to send any food to the cities unless upon the payment of certain taxes. on his part, campos issued the following commands: several regiments to protect the sugar estates; other detachments to be placed along the railroads, and on every train in motion; to attack always, unless the enemy's numbers were three to one; all rebels, except officers, who surrendered, to be allowed to go free and unmolested; convoys of provisions to be sent to such towns as needed them. everything was now in readiness for a fierce campaign, and one that threatened to be protracted. it was not long before operations commenced in earnest. chapter viii. cuban tactics. there was one incident which occurred in the early part of the disturbances which caused a certain amount of excitement in the united states, as it was thought that it would prove to be a repetition of the virginius affair. on the th of march, , the ship allianca was bound from colon to new york. she was following the usual track of vessels near the cuban shore. but, outside the three mile limit, she was fired upon by a spanish gunboat. president cleveland declared this to be an unwarrantable interference by spain with passing american ships. protest was promptly made by the united states against this act as not being justified by a state of war; nor permissible in respect of a vessel on the usual paths of commerce, nor tolerable in view of the wanton peril occasioned to innocent life and property. this act was disavowed by spain, with full expression of regret, and with an assurance that there should not be again such just cause for complaint. the offending officer was deposed from his command. all this was eminently satisfactory, and the united states took no further action in the matter. the chief battle of the campaign, while campos still remained governor-general, was that fought at bayamo, in july, . campos himself commanded in person, and for the first time the spaniards, ever vain-glorious and self-confident, became aware of the mettle of the men arrayed against them. the spanish forces numbered some five thousand men, while the cubans had not much more than half that number. it was the spanish strategy, however, to divide their men into detachments, and the cubans were quick to take advantage of this. the fight was a long and bloody affair, but finally the victory, although not pronounced, remained with the cubans. the spanish forces were more or less demoralized, and their loses were heavy. thirteen spanish officers were killed, while the cubans lost two colonels. the cubans admitted that fifty of their number were killed or disabled, but they claimed that the loss of the spaniards was over three hundred. it is impossible to tell much from the spanish accounts, as they were far from being complete and were highly colored. it has been the same way in the present war, as witness the laughable "one mule" report, with which all are familiar. in this engagement, general santocildes was killed. it is said that santocildes sacrificed his own life to save that of his friend and superior, campos. there are two very different stories told of the attitude of antonio maceo toward campos in this battle. one is to the effect that he did not know that campos was commanding in person, but when he was told of it the following day, he said: "had i known it, i would have sacrificed five hundred more of my men, and i would have taken him dead or alive! thus with one blow i would have ended the war." the other is quite different, and has been very generally believed amongst the cubans. it is to the effect that, during the fight, maceo recognized campos, and, pointing him out to his men, ordered them not to harm him, as he was a soldier who made war honorably. murat halstead relates two incidents of the battle of bayamo, which, however, he declares must be taken with a large grain of salt. one, which comes from an insurgent authority is as follows: "campos only saved himself by a ruse. taking advantage of the cubans' well-known respect for the wounded, he had himself placed in a covered stretcher, which they allowed to pass, without looking inside the cover. when outside of the cuban lines he was obliged to walk on foot to bayamo, through six miles of by-paths, under cover of the darkness, only accompanied by a colored guide." the other tells that a son of campos, who was a lieutenant, was captured, but released with a friendly message to his father, who of course, was expected to follow so admirable an example. whether these anecdotes are true or not, one thing is certain. after the battle, maceo collected the wounded, whom the spaniards left upon the field in their retreat, and treated them in the most humane manner possible. he wrote to campos the following letter: * * * "to his excellency, the general martinez campos: "dear sir--anxious to give careful and efficient attendance to the wounded spanish soldiers that your troops left behind on the battle-field, i have ordered that they be lodged in the houses of the cuban families that live nearest to the battle-ground, until you send for them. "with my assurance that the forces you may send to escort them back will not meet any hostile demonstrations from my soldiers, i have the honor to be, sir, "yours respectfully, "antonio maceo." * * * while maceo was thus maneuvering in the eastern part of the island, the general-in-chief, maximo gomez, was fighting in camaguey. the population in the provinces of puerto principe and santiago de cuba had risen almost to a man, and the movement was well under way in the province of santa clara. several encounters took place, the most important being the attack upon the little city of cascorro, which gomez succeeded in capturing. he found there a large quantity of arms and ammunition, of which the cubans were greatly in need. gomez proved himself quite as magnanimous as maceo. the wounded were all cared for to the best of his ability, and the prisoners were returned to the spanish leaders. this example, however, seems to have been utterly lost upon the spaniards. the insurgent forces, under gomez, were at this time divided into six portions, operating in the six provinces, and commanded by antonio maceo, aguerre, lacret, carillo, suarez and jose maceo. suarez was afterwards cashiered for cowardice, and replaced by garcia. in august, , maceo joined his chief at a place called jimaguaya, where gomez had called to him a large proportion of the cuban forces, which numbered at that time about thirty thousand. and against these undisciplined soldiers was arrayed a regular army of over eighty-five thousand men, not counting the armed volunteers. the odds were terribly against the cubans, but gomez and maceo were confident of success. it should be mentioned here that there were quite a number of women fighting under maceo, and these women did heroic service. in fact, the cuban women have given innumerable proofs of their devotion, body and soul, to the cause of "cuba libre." gomez' objective point was havana, and between jimaguaya and havana, there were over fifty thousand spanish soldiers. when gomez started, he had about twelve thousand men, which he divided into three columns. he was quite well aware that the fighting must be of the guerilla stamp. in fact, it was the only species of warfare possible. he therefore instructed his lieutenants to have recourse to strategy, to foil the enemy at every point. the one object was to reach havana. "in the event of a forced battle," he said finally, "overthrow them! pass over them and on to havana!" the march was begun, the instructions being followed to the letter. actual combat was everywhere avoided. the spanish papers constantly had reports like this: "after a few shots the rebels ran away." they did not understand that this was exactly gomez' tactics, and he was succeeding, too. every day the insurgents advanced further and further west. at the end of a fortnight they reached the trocha of jaruco, which had been constructed in the centre of the island. this trocha was occupied by a large and important spanish force. gomez ordered maceo to make a feigned attack upon the northern portion of the trocha. the spaniards rushed there in a body, and gomez, who had counted upon this very thing, crossed the southern part, which was left unprotected, without striking a blow. as soon as maceo knew that gomez had passed over in safety, he immediately disappeared with his men, and soon after managed to rejoin his chief. it was a very clever ruse, and campos, whose headquarters were then in santa clara realized that he had been outgeneralled. he ordered a hurried march to cienfuegos, and there took command. the evasive movements of the insurgents continued, and again and again was campos outflanked. with but little difficulty the cubans crossed two other trochas, and finally entered the province of matanzas, which campos had felt positive could never be invaded; the spaniards meanwhile constantly retreating, nearer and nearer to the capital. at last, campos determined to force an open conflict. he told his lieutenants where they were to meet him. this was in december, . campos lay in wait for maceo's forces at a point between coliseo and lumidero. it seemed at first as if the insurgents were caught in a trap, and would be forced to accept a battle in the open, which could not fail to be disastrous to them. but a happy thought came to maceo, and, in connection with this plan, he issued his orders. suddenly, the cane-fields which surrounded the camp of the spaniards burst into flame, and on each side was a great blazing plain. campos knew that he had once more been foiled, and he gave the order to retreat at once. this battle, if battle it can be called, had important results. it enabled gomez to reach jovellanos, a city which commanded the railroad lines of cardenas, matanzas and havana. these lines gomez destroyed as well as every sugar plantation upon his route. as to the destruction of the sugar fields and the reason therefor, we shall have something to say later on. campos, completely outwitted and vanquished in his attempts to stop the onward progress of the insurgents, now fell back upon havana, which he reached christmas day. his reception in the capital was anything but a pleasant one. the spaniards there had clamored from the very beginning for revenge without mercy, and they looked upon the successive checks which the army had received as little less than criminal. they demanded of the governor-general the reason for his repeated defeats, and even threatened him personally. there were three political parties in cuba, the conservatives, the reformists and the autonomists. campos met the leaders of these parties in an interview, and asked for their opinions. the consultation was very unsatisfactory, and as a result campos proposed his resignation to which the ministry made no objection. shortly after, his resignation was sent in and accepted. he sailed for spain the th of january, his place being temporarily filled by general sabas marin. in spite of martinez campos' failure to subdue the insurrection, nothing but the greatest sympathy and respect can be felt for him, at least out of spain, where, speaking in a general manner, humanity has no place, and gratitude is an unknown quantity. campos' services to his country had been great, including, as they did, the pacification of cuba in the ten years war, the quelling of a revolt in spain itself, and the restoration and support of the spanish monarchy. at an advanced age, when he should have been enjoying a well deserved rest, he was sent away to fight a difficult war, and to risk the tarnishing of his laurels as a military commander. all praise to martinez campos for his pure patriotism, his unswerving rectitude, his magnanimity and his exalted ideas of honor! this praise even the enemies of his country cannot refuse to him. chapter ix. weyler the butcher. no greater contrast to campos could possibly be imagined than his successor, general valeriano weyler, known, and with the utmost justice, throughout cuba and the united states as "the butcher." during his official life in cuba, he proved again and again the truth of his reputation for relentless cruelty. there is no doubt that during former wars he committed the most atrocious crimes. it is not claimed that he ever showed any brilliant qualifications as a military leader, and it was precisely because he lacked the characteristics of general campos, that spain appointed him governor-general, hoping that his severity (no, severity is too mild a word, his savage brutality) would accomplish what campos had failed to do. in the light of events following his appointment, events which filled the whole civilized world with indignation and horror, it has been pretended by spain that her ministry specially instructed him to "moderate his ardor." moderate his ardor, indeed! granted that he obeyed instructions, if, indeed such instructions ever existed, just think for a moment what would have happened if he had not! it is very hard to write in a temperate vein when weyler is the subject. but where is the case for the plaintiff? where are their defenders, when nero, caligula or judas is in question? let us now contemplate a pen picture of "the butcher," painted by mr. elbert rappleye, a very clever american newspaper correspondent: "general weyler is one of those men who creates a first impression, the first sight of whom can never be effaced from the mind, by whose presence the most careless observer is impressed instantly, and yet, taken altogether, he is a man in whom the elements of greatness are concealed under a cloak of impenetrable obscurity. inferior physically, unsoldierly in bearing, exhibiting no trace of refined sensibilities nor pleasure in the gentle associations that others live for, or at least seek as diversions, he is nevertheless the embodiment of mental acuteness, crafty, unscrupulous, fearless and of indomitable perseverance. "campos was fat, good-natured, wise, philosophical, slow in his mental processes, clear in his judgment, emphatic in his opinions, outspoken and withal, lovable, humane, conservative, constructive, progressive, with but one object ever before him, the glorification of spain as a motherland and a figure among peaceful, enlightened nations. weyler is lean, diminutive, shriveled, ambitious for immortality, irrespective of its odor, a master of diplomacy, the slave of spain for the glory of sitting at the right of her throne, unlovable, unloving, exalted." after telling of how he was admitted to weyler's presence, mr. rappleye continues his vivid description. "and what a picture! a little man. an apparition of blacks--black eyes, black hair, black beard, dark--exceedingly dark--complexion; a plain black attire. he was alone and was standing facing the door i entered. he had taken a position in the very centre of the room, and seemed lost in its immense depths. his eyes, far apart, bright, alert and striking, took me in at a glance. his face seemed to run to chin, his lower jaw protruding far beyond any ordinary indication of firmness, persistence or will power. his forehead is neither high nor receding; neither is it that of a thoughtful or philosophic man. his ears are set far back; and what is called the region of intellect, in which are those mental attributes that might be defined as powers of observation, calculation, judgment and execution, is strongly developed." mrs. kate masterson, another american journalist, was, we believe, the only one, except mr. rappleye, who obtained an interview with weyler. among other things that he said, mrs. masterson reports the following: "i have shut out the spanish and cuban papers from the field as well as the american. in the last war the correspondents created much jealousy by what they wrote. they praised one and rebuked the other. they are a nuisance." "i have no time to pay attention to stories. some of them are true and some of them are not." "the spanish columns attend to their prisoners just as well as any other country in times of war." an obviously false statement, by the way. "war is war. you cannot make it otherwise, try as you will." true to a certain extent, general weyler, but not from your point of view. there are certain humanitarian principles, of which you seem to be ignorant that can be practiced in time of war as well as in time of peace. weyler declared to mrs. masterson that women, if combatants, would be treated just the same as men. as a matter of fact, whether combatants or non-combatants, he treated them worse than men. he sneered at the cuban leaders, at maceo for being a mulatto, and for having, as he asseverated, no military instruction. and at gomez, whom he declared was not a brave soldier and had never distinguished himself in any way. it has always been the policy of the spaniards to belittle the cubans, sneering at them as being generaled by negroes, half breeds and illiterate to a degree. beyond the fact that this is contemptibly false, they do not stop to think how they are dishonoring their own troops which have made such little headway against them. when the spaniards have forced the insurgents to surrender in all the revolts that have taken place, it has been mainly through false representations and lying promises, promise that they knew, when they made them, were never intended to be carried out. weyler's character may perhaps be best understood from his own following egotistical statement, which is well-authenticated: "i care not for america, england, or any other country, but only for the treaties we have with them. they are the law. i know i am merciless, but mercy has no place in war, i know the reputation which has been built up for me. i care not what is said about me unless it is a lie so grave as to occasion alarm. i am not a politician. i am weyler." contrast with these utterances, the words of maximo gomez, the grand old man of cuba, in his instructions to his men: "do not risk your life unnecessarily. you have only one and can best serve your country by saving it. dead men cannot fire guns. keep your head cool, your machete warm, and we will yet free cuba." gomez, by the way, at one time, served under weyler, the former a captain, the latter as a colonel. the noble cuban leader certainly did not obtain his views of modern warfare from his then superior officer. when weyler arrived in cuba he had at his command at least one hundred and twenty thousand regulars, fifty thousand volunteers and a large naval coast guard. rather a formidable force to subdue what has been characterized as a handful of bandits. his policy from the beginning was one of extermination, and he made war upon those who were not in arms against spain as well as those who were, upon women and children as well as upon men. although weyler did not begin what may be called active operations until november (he arrived in february), still he persecuted by every means in his power the pacificos, that is, those who did not take arms for or against either side. he conceived what general fitzhugh lee calls "the brilliant idea" of ruining the farmers so that they should not be able to give any aid to the insurgents. read carefully the text of his famous reconcentrado order, which brought misery, ruin and death to the peaceable inhabitants of the island: * * * "i, don valeriano weyler y nicolau, marquis of tenerife, governor-general, captain-general of this island and commander-in-chief of the army, etc., etc., hereby order and command: " . that all inhabitants of the country districts, or those who reside outside the lines of fortifications of the towns, shall within a delay of eight days enter the towns which are occupied by the troops. any individual found outside the lines in the country at the expiration of this period shall be considered a rebel and shall be dealt with as such. " . the transport of food from the towns, and the carrying of food from one place to another by sea or by land, without the permission of the military authorities of the place of departure, is absolutely forbidden. those who infringe upon the order will be tried and punished as aiders and abettors of the rebellion. " . the owners of cattle must drive their herds to the towns, or the immediate vicinity of the towns, for which purposes proper escorts will be given them. " . when the period of eight days, which shall be reckoned in each district from the day of the publication of this proclamation in the country town of the district, shall have expired, all insurgents who may present themselves will be placed under my orders for the purpose of designating a place in which they may reside. the furnishing of news concerning the enemy, which can be availed of with advantage, will serve as a recommendation to them; also, when the presentation is made with firearms in their possession, and when, and more especially, when the insurgents present themselves in numbers. valeriano weyler." * * * was there ever a more damnable--there is no other word for it--a more damnable proclamation issued? and the result? words can scarcely do justice to it. it was the death-sentence of thousands and thousands of innocent people, the large majority of whom were women and children. the peasant farmers, with their families, were only allowed to bring with them what they could carry on their backs, when they were forced to leave all that they had in the world, and remove to the places of "concentration," where it was impossible for them to make a living. before leaving they saw their houses and crops burned, and their live stock, be it much or little, that they possessed, confiscated. starvation was before them, and starve they did. and let the reader bear this fact well in mind--these were non-combatants, women and children. the deaths have occurred in ghastly numbers. more than two hundred thousand have perished from starvation and starvation alone, with no hand from the government stretched out to aid them. the record made by the butcher and the butcher's emissaries is without parallel in all history. no wonder that the united states held its breath in horror, before raising its mailed hand to strike forever the chains from this suffering people. general weyler did not care how deeply he should wade in blood, nor to what age or sex this blood belonged, so long as he should attain his ends. talk as you please about the atrocities of the turks, but they pale before those of the spaniards in cuba; acts committed, too, not in secret, but openly and by public proclamation. read what stephen bonsal, who was an eye-witness, says in his book: "the real condition of cuba to-day." "in the western provinces, we find between three and four hundred thousand people penned up in starvation stations and a prey to all kinds of epidemic diseases. they are without means and without food, and with only the shelter that the dried palm-leaves of their hastily erected bohios afford, and in the rainy season that is now upon them, there is no shelter at all. they have less clothing than the patagonian savages, and, half naked, they sleep upon the ground, exposed to the noxious vapors which these low-lying swamp-lands emit. they have no prospect before them but to die, or, what is more cruel, to see those of their own flesh and blood dying about them, and to be powerless to succor and to save. about these starvation stations the savage sentries pace up and down with ready rifle and bared machete, to shoot down and to cut up any one who dares to cross the line. and yet, who are these men who are shot down in the night like midnight marauders? and why is it they seek, with all the desperate courage of despair, to cross that line where death is always awaiting their coming, and almost invariably overtakes them? they are attempting nothing that history will preserve upon its imperishable tablets, or even this passing generation remember. no, they are simply attempting to get beyond the starvation lines, to dig their potatoes and yams, to bring home again to the hovel in which their families are housed with death and hunger all about them. and they do their simple duty, not blinded as to the danger, or without warning as to their probable fate, for hardly an hour of their interminable day passes without their hearing the sharp click of the trigger and the hoarse cry of the sentry which precede the murderous volley; and every morning, through the narrow, filthy lanes upon which the huts have been erected the guerillas, drive along the pack-mules bearing the mutilated bodies of those who have been punished cruelly for the crime of seeking food to keep their children from starvation. this colossal crime, with all the refinement of slow torture, is so barbarous, so bloodthirsty and yet so exquisite, that the human mind refuses to believe it, and revolts at the suggestion that it was conceived, planned and plotted by a man. and yet this crime, this murder of thousands of innocent men, women and children, is now being daily committed in cuba, at our very doors and well-nigh in sight of our shores, and we are paying very little heed to the spectacle." these words were written before the united states came to the rescue, and the criticism in the last sentence is, thank heaven, no longer applicable. we are slow to act perhaps, but when we do act, our work is effective, and we never rest until our aim is accomplished. chapter x. the crime of the century. to enlarge upon the sufferings of the cubans is a painful task, but it is a task that must be accomplished, in the interests of justice and humanity, and also that the reader may clearly understand why it was the bounden duty of the united states to interfere. let us therefore proceed with the evidence. julian hawthorne gives his testimony as follows: "these people have starved in a land capable of supplying tens of millions of people with abundant food. the very ground on which they lie down to breathe their last might be planted with produce that would feed them to repletion. but so far from any effort to save them having been made by spain, she has wilfully and designedly compassed their destruction. she has driven them in from their fields and plantations and forbidden them to help themselves; the plantations themselves have been laid waste, and should the miserable reconcentrados attempt under the pretended kindly dispensation of blanco to return to their properties they would find the spanish guerillas lying in wait to massacre them. no agony of either mind or body has been wanting. the wife has lost her husband, the mother, her children; the child its parents, the husband, his family. they have seen them die. often they have seen them slaughtered wantonly as they lay helpless, waiting a slower end. the active as well as the passive cruelties of the spaniards toward these people have been well-nigh unimaginable." call richard harding davis to the stand! "in other wars men have fought with men, and women have suffered indirectly because the men were killed, but in this war it is the women herded together in the towns like cattle who are going to die, while the men camped in the fields and mountains will live." general fitz hugh lee says: "general weyler believes that everything is fair in war and every means justifiable that will ultimately write success on his standards. he did not purpose to make war with velvet paws, but to achieve his purpose of putting down the insurrection, if he had to wade through, up to the visor of his helmet, the blood of every cuban, man, women and child, on the island." now hear general lee relate the following incident, an incident which created much discussion and feeling in the united states: "dr. ruiz, an american dentist, who was practicing his profession in a town called guanabacoa, some four miles from havana, was arrested. a railroad train between havana and this town had been captured by the insurgents, and the next day the spanish authorities arrested a large number of persons in guanabacoa, charging them with giving information which enabled the troops, under their enterprising young leader, aranguren, to make the capture; and among these persons arrested was this american. he was a strongly built, athletic man, who confined himself strictly to the practice of his profession and let politics alone. he had nothing to do with the train being captured, but that night was visiting a neighbor opposite, until nine or ten o'clock, when he returned to his house and went to bed. he was arrested by the police the next morning; thrown into an incommunicado cell; kept there some fifty or sixty hours, and was finally (when half crazed by his horrible imprisonment and calling for his wife and children) struck over the head with a 'billy' in the hands of a brutal jailer and died from the effects. ruiz went into the cell an unusually healthy and vigorous man, and came out a corpse." james creelman, a brilliant newspaper correspondent, gives his testimony: "everywhere the breadwinners of cuba are fleeing in terror before the spanish columns, and the ranks of life are being turned into the ranks of death, for the cuban who has seen his honest and harmless neighbors tied up and shot before his eyes, in order that some officer may get credit for a battle, takes his family to the nearest town or city for safety, and then goes out to strike a manly blow for his country." senator thurston, who was sent to cuba to investigate and report the condition of affairs, in a passionate address to the united states senate testifies: "for myself i went to cuba firmly believing the condition of affairs there had been greatly exaggerated by the press, and my own efforts were directed in the first instance to the attempted exposure of these supposed exaggerations. mr. president, there has undoubtedly been much sensationalism in the journalism of the time, but as to the condition of affairs in cuba, there has been no exaggeration, because exaggeration has been impossible. the pictures in the american newspapers of the starving reconcentrados are true. they can all be duplicated by the thousands. i never saw, and please god i may never see again, so deplorable a sight as the reconcentrados in the suburbs of mantanzas. i can never forget to my dying day the hopeless anguish in their despairing eyes. huddled about their little bark huts, they raised no voice of appeal to us for alms as we went among them. the government of spain has not and will not appropriate one dollar to save these people. they are now being attended and nursed and administered to by the charity of the united states. think of the spectacle! we are feeding these citizens of spain; we are nursing their sick; we are saving such as can be saved, and yet there are those who still say: 'it is right for us to send food, but we must keep our hands off.' i say that the time has come when muskets ought to go with the food." finally, senor enrique jose verona, who was at one time a deputy to the spanish cortes, sums up the situation as follows: "spain denies to the cubans all effective powers in their own county. spain condemns the cubans to a political inferiority in the land where they were born. spain confiscates the product of the cubans' labor without giving them in return either safety, prosperity or education. spain has shown itself utterly incapable of governing cuba. spain exploits, impoverishes and demoralizes cuba." this is only a very small portion of the testimony which might be offered, but can the opinions of men of undoubted honor and veracity be impeached? not a tithe of the horrors which has existed in the island of cuba has been told, and probably never will be told. because a large proportion of the sufferers did not, like du barri, shriek upon the scaffold, but, like de rohan, died mute. but still something further can be said as to "the butcher's" methods, and, worse still, as to the putting into practice of those methods. the insurgents have invariably been treated as if they were pirates. the tigerish nature of weyler spared no one. refugees, that is those who did not obey his barbarous proclamation, were shot down in cold blood. starvation was his policy, and starvation too of those, whatever their sympathies might have been, had never raised a finger against the existing government. the reconcentrados, harassed beyond all measure, saw nothing before them but death, and the happiest among them were those who died first. how would you, reader, like to be shut off, with no means of subsistence, for yourself, your wife and your children, within military lines, to cross which meant instant death? the butcher could not conquer this valiant people in honorable warfare, and therefore, worthy scion of his blood, he, without one qualm of conscience, determined to exterminate them. young boys, not more than fifteen or sixteen years of age, were charged with the crime of "rebellion and incendiarism" (that was the favorite charge of weyler), and sometimes with the pretence of a trial, sometimes with no trial at all, were shot down in cold blood by the score. poor little starving babies clung to their mothers' breasts from which no substance was to be obtained. weyler knew all this, and in his palace in havana simply laughed, content so long as each day the death rate of the cubans increased, and he himself was gaining favor with his government, and meanwhile had all that he wanted to eat and drink. the merciless wretch, by the way, was ever careful not to expose his own precious person to bullet or machete. but what could be expected of him? he was a spaniard, a man after spain's own heart, and one whom it was her delight to honor. this picture is not over-painted. the colors if anything are laid on too thin. although the so-called rebels were not conquered and never could be conquered, weyler was constantly sending reports home of the "pacification" of first this and then that portion of the island. this he probably supposed was necessary to placate the spaniards, who are divided amongst themselves and ever ready to rise against the existing government whatever it may be. in spite of all this, brute weyler has been and still is the idol of a certain class of spaniards. in spite of all? no, we should have said, because of all. one of his adherents, among other things, said to stephen bonsal, and this is the sort of utterance that the majority of spain applauds: "the only way to end this cuban question is the way general weyler is going about it. the only way for spain to retain her sovereignty over these islands is to exterminate--butcher if you like--every man, woman and child upon it who is infected with the contagion and dreams of cuba libre. these people must be exterminated and we consider no measure too ruthless to be adopted to secure this end. "i read in an american paper the other day that general weyler was poisoning the streams from which the insurgents drink in matanzas province. it was not true, but i only wish it had been. "general weyler is our man. we feel sure of him. he will not be satisfied until every insurgent lies in the ditch with his throat cut, and that is all we want." stop a moment and think! these words were spoken at the end of the nineteenth century by the representative of a professed christian country. how have the teachings of christ, who always and primarily advocated charity, been forgotten or perverted! the whole matter of cuba under spanish rule is a disgrace to the age we live in. but (call it spread-eagleism if you like) the united states now has the affair in hand. it can and will right this wrong, and so effectively that there will be no possibility of its recurrence. chapter xi. two methods of warfare: the spanish and the cuban. now let us turn to the one crime, so-called, that has been alleged against the cubans. we refer to the burning of the sugar crops. that this has been done on each and every occasion, no one will deny. at first glance, it seems an act of vandalism. but is it so? let us examine carefully into the causes and reasons for it. the spaniards claim that it is a notable example of the reckless and uncivilized methods of the insurgents. on the contrary, it is a policy which was carefully planned and systematically carried out by gomez and the other cuban leaders. in a proclamation by gomez, he ordered his lieutenants to burn the sugar plantations, but he did not tell them to destroy the mills, because he did not wish, in case of his succeeding in his purpose of liberating cuba, to lay the producers flat upon their backs, from which position they could never, or, only with the utmost difficulty, arise. the destruction of the sugar cane was a necessity of war. it must be remembered that from the sugar crop spain has received her largest revenue from cuba, and to cut off this source of revenue is to cripple spain and take away from her a large sum of money with which she might otherwise wage warfare. to show that the damage wrought is by no means irreparable, we cannot do better than quote baron antomarchi, a frenchman who lived for a long time in cuba, was there during the early part of the present insurrection, and knows of what he is speaking: "since the suppression of slavery, and as a result of the high price of labor the work of sugar making had been modified. in former times a sugar planter considered his plantation his most necessary possession. after the process of manufacture was modified, it was his sugar mill upon which he depended; his plantation was less important. so in burning the sugar crop, gomez did not strike a death-blow at the producer. it is a well known fact that when the cane growth is cut by fire and the fields are burnt close to the ground, the yield of the following season is increased and improved; so we see that gomez did not ruin the country when he burned the plantations. true, the fields have been burned, but they will spring up with a more vigorous luxuriance after the rest which was one of the conditions imposed upon the first agricultural community of which we have any reliable record, and if the mills which gomez has left intact are not destroyed by some authority equally potent, when the country is reorganized, the sugar industry may flourish to a degree undreamed of before the cuban war for liberty." besides depriving spain of her revenue, gomez had another though a lesser reason, for burning the sugar cane. he knew that those who were thrown out of employment would flock to his standard, and his forces thereby be greatly augmented. on the whole, we do not see that the criticism and blame which have been given to the insurgents for destroying the crops and for the time being laying waste the land, are deserved. it was a measure of war, and one, which it seems to us, under the circumstances, was thoroughly justified. now let us contrast, for a moment, the different methods of the spaniards and the cubans in waging warfare. in the first place, we do not mean to affirm that the insurgents have not committed actions, which, in the light of civilization, are indefensible, but they are few and far between, and they were forced upon them. after all the horrors to which they were subjected, they would have been less than human if they had not retaliated. the cubans, both in the ten years' war and in the present one, have been merciful to those of the enemy who fell into their hands. the latter have been almost invariably treated with kindness and allowed to go free and unmolested. but the spaniards never reciprocated. it has been their invariable policy not to exchange prisoners, a notable instance of this being their recent refusal to exchange the gallant hobson and his comrades. to be sure, according to international law they are not compelled to do this, but it is doubtful if there is another civilized nation (by the way, it is an undeserved compliment to intimate that spain is civilized), which would have acted as the country which boasts of its chivalry has done. just here, let us say that those acts of cruelty which have been committed by the cuban army have been very far from receiving the sanction of their leaders. on the contrary, they have been done in violation of the explicit orders of those leaders; and whenever the offenders have been discovered, they have been hanged as bandits to the limb of the nearest tree. the hatred and barbarity which the spaniards have without exception, evinced toward the cubans have done much to alienate the latter, have been the chief causes why peace could not be maintained, and have made only one outcome possible--the freedom and independence of the island. we have already seen the humanity with which gomez, maceo and the other cuban chiefs treated the wounded of the enemy who chanced to fall into their hands. but how was it on the other side? how did the spaniards behave toward the insurgent wounded? when not killed at once and their sufferings ended immediately, they were cast into loathsome dungeons, with insufficient food and with no medical attendance whatever. now to a charge which has more than once been brought against spain, which has been brought against her recently, which her government has indignantly denied, but which both in the past and the present has been proved beyond any question of a doubt. the charge refers to an action which, with the exception of spain, has never been committed but by the most savage tribes, the indians of north america and the inhabitants of darkest africa. we do not think that even the turks were ever accused of such an atrocious, unspeakable act. we mean the mutilation of the dead bodies (often in a horrible, obscene way) left upon the battlefield. it is with regret and loathing that we approach the subject. but facts must be spoken. there has been scarcely a combat between the spaniards and the cubans, in all the revolutions which have occurred, where the former have not been guilty of the revolting practice of the mutilation of dead bodies. indeed the most savage of tribes have never gone further in the demoniac wreaking of vengeance upon the fallen bodies of the enemy than the spaniards have. it has been a common custom with them to disfigure, mangle and commit nameless indignities upon the dead. when nestor aranguren, who you will remember was one of the bravest of the cuban leaders, the "marion," the "swamp fox" of the insurrection, was killed, his body, covered with honorable wounds was taken to havana, and paraded before the citizens, subject to their jeers and curses. when another insurgent leader, castillo, was killed, the same frightful spectacle was witnessed. indeed, it has been the rule among the spaniards whenever the body of a so-called rebel leader fell into their hands, to drag his nude and mutilated body, tied at the end of a horse's tail, throughout the nearest town, and the excuse for this was--what? that the body might be fully identified. among the cubans, there is only one instance related where they retaliated in kind. and this was when it is said that they sent a spanish soldier back to havana with his tongue cut out. but even this story, the only act of brutality alleged against them is not well authenticated, resting as it does entirely upon spanish evidence. and we know well how much credence can be given to that evidence. to come down to more recent occurrences. when it was first reported that the bodies of our marines killed at guantanamo were subjected to unmentionable mutilations by the spaniards, we could not believe it. it was said that the condition of the bodies was caused by shots fired from the mauser rifle. but the mauser rifle inflicts a clean cut hole. it could not possibly have been responsible for the horrible condition of the bodies. it is impossible for us to explain further in print. remember or look up what was done by the apaches in some of our indian wars, and then from your knowledge, or the knowledge gained by research, fill up the hiatus. and the spaniards cannot claim in this latter instance, if indeed they can in any other, that these barbarities were committed by irregular and irresponsible troops. it is beyond question that by far the greater portion of the troops employed against colonel huntington (we are referring now to the affair at guantanamo) belonged to the regular army, under the command of general linares. the new york herald, in an editorial on the subject, remarks most justly and forcibly: "what sort of a degraded spectacle, then, does spain present, going whining through europe in search of intercession or intervention, with such a damnable record against her, made in the very first engagement of troops? "we can hear good old john bull sputter out his righteous indignation, but will his holiness the pope recognize such degenerate child? can the punctilious francis joseph of austria afford to condone crimes like these? will the emperor william or the czar of russia lift his voice in behalf of such fiends? can our sister republic, france, sympathize with the monsters who disgrace the very name of soldier? "not so! all europe will join with our own government, now thoroughly aroused to the indignities put upon it, and voice the stern edict of humanity and civilization: "spain has now placed herself without the pale of the nations. let her meet the retribution she so justly deserves." senor estrado palma, the representative of cuba in the united states, has declared in a manifesto that the cubans threw themselves into the struggle advisedly and deliberately, that they knew what they had to face and decided unflinchingly to persevere until they should free themselves from the spanish government. experience has taught them that they have nothing to envy in the spaniards; that in fact, they feel themselves superior to them, and can expect from spain no improvement, no better education. slavery is ended in cuba, and the white and the colored live together in perfect harmony, fighting side by side, to obtain political liberty. senor palma, by the way, asserts, with how much authority we are unable to state, that the colored population in cuba is superior to that of the united states. he says that they are industrious, intelligent and lovers of learning; also, that, during the last fifteen years, they have attained remarkable intellectual development. there are certain utterances of senor palma in this manifesto which deserve to be quoted in full, so pregnant are they with truth, and so full of food for thought to the average american citizen, whether he agrees with them or not. senor palma says: "we cubans have a thousandfold more reason in our endeavor to free ourselves from the spanish yoke than had the people of the thirteen colonies, when, in , they rose in arms against the british government. the people of these colonies were in full enjoyment of all the rights of man; they had liberty of conscience, freedom of speech, liberty of the press, the right of public meeting and the right of free locomotion. they elected those who governed them, they made their own laws, and, in fact, enjoyed the blessings of self-government. they were not under the sway of a captain-general with arbitrary powers, who, at his will could imprison them, deport them to penal colonies, or order their execution even without the semblance of a court-martial. they did not have to pay a permanent army and navy in order that they might be kept in subjection, nor to feed a swarm of hungry employees yearly sent over from the metropolis to prey upon the country. they were never subjected to a stupid and crushing customs tariff which compelled them to go to home markets for millions of merchandise annually which they could buy much cheaper elsewhere; they were never compelled to cover a budget of twenty-six or thirty millions a year without the consent of the taxpayers and for the purpose of defraying the expenses of the army and navy of the oppressor, to pay the salaries of thousands of worthless european employees, the whole interest on a debt not incurred by the colony, and other expenditures from which the island received no benefit whatever; for, out of all those millions, only the paltry sum of seven hundred thousand dollars was apparently applied for works of internal improvement, and one-half of which invariably went into the pockets of spanish employees. "if the right of the thirteen british colonies to rise in arms in order to acquire their independence has never been questioned because of the attempt of the mother country to tax them by a duty upon tea, or by the stamp act, will there be a single citizen in this great republic of the united states, whether he be a public or private man, who will doubt the justice, the necessity in which the cuban people find themselves of fighting to-day and to-morrow and always, until they shall have overthrown spanish oppression and tyranny in their country, and formed themselves into a free and independent republic?" now, honestly, all prejudice aside, this is not a bad brief for the plaintiff, is it? there is one more document to which we desire to call your attention. and that is, a letter written to professor starr jordan, of the leland stanford, jr., university of san francisco, by a havanese gentleman of undoubted integrity and of spanish origin. professor jordan declares that this letter seems to show that "the rebellion is not a mere bandit outbreak of negroes and jailbirds, but the effort of the whole people to throw off the yoke of a government they find intolerable." the letter states, among other things, that the insurrection was begun and is kept up by cuban people; that the spanish government has made colossal and unheard-of efforts to put it down, but has not succeeded in diminishing it; on the contrary, the insurrection has spread from one extreme of the island to the other; that the flower of the cuban youth is in the army of the insurrection, in whose ranks are many physicians, lawyers, druggists, professors, artists, business men, engineers and men of that ilk. professor jordan's correspondent declares that this fact can be proved by the excellent consular service of the united states. he admits that destruction has been carried on by both sides, but affirms that the insurgents began by destroying their own property, in order to deprive the troops of the government of shelter and sustenance. he further declares that the insurgents will continue in their course until they fulfill their purpose, carrying all before them by fire and blood. he concludes as follows: "all eyes are directed toward the north, to the republic which is the mother of all americans. the people of the united states must bear strongly in mind now, as never before, that profession is null and void, if action does not affirm it." but action has come at last, as the fiendish spaniards have already found out to their cost. what is cuba, the "pearl of the antilles," at the present time of writing? the answer to that question is as follows: a land devastated and temporarily ruined; a gem besmirched almost beyond recognition; a heap of smoking ashes; a population of starving men, women and children, with an iron hand clutching remorselessly at their hearts; a horrible, ghastly picture of what savage men are capable of in the way of destruction. now, americans, people of the free and independent united states; you who enjoy all the blessings of liberty; you who can pursue your avocations without let or hindrance; you who are the jury in this case--the evidence is before you. you have undoubtedly heard it said that the interference of the united states was unwarrantable; that there was no real reason for the present spanish-american war; that a stronger country took advantage of a weaker; and other arguments ad nauseam. but is there one of our readers who would see a woman, or a weak though honorable man, attacked by a savage foe, without interfering, and doing the best he could to give life and freedom to the oppressed? think it all over, americans, and think it over carefully and judiciously. at your own doors, is a poor, miserable, starving wretch, starving from no fault of his, and with a bulldog, not your own, but belonging to a neighbor (a neighbor, grant you with whom you have always hitherto been at peace) about to fasten its fangs in the throat of this unhappy man. would you hold your hands, saying that it was no affair of yours, or, with your superior strength, would you fly to the rescue? once more, americans, you have heard the whole evidence. the case is in your hands. what is your verdict? chapter xii. the butcher's campaign. now let us go back to the making of history, to the time when the butcher weyler came to cuba to assume the governor-generalship. by this time the cuban question had been brought authoritatively before the united states senate, the people were beginning to be strongly roused with indignation at the state of affairs in cuba, and there was considerable excitement when the news of weyler's appointment became known. strange to say, the insurgents rejoiced rather than grieved at this appointment, the cause of which is not far to seek. they knew thoroughly well weyler's character, and what his policy was more than likely to be. they thought that it would drive all the cubans, who were wavering, into their ranks and would at last force the united states, whose people, when all is said and done, were their natural allies and defenders, to intervene. after the battle of coliseo, gomez and maceo made their way through madruga, nueva-paz and guines. then they destroyed, at a large number of points, the very important railway which connected havana with batabano, and also cut the telegraph wires. when they had accomplished this, the two leaders separated, gomez to advance in the direction of havana, and maceo to invade pinar del rio, which is in the extreme west of the island. gomez succeeded in burning several more or less important suburbs of havana. almost the first military movement that weyler made was an attempt to cut off maceo and prevent his communication with the other detachments of the cuban army. it seemed to be his chief purpose to compass the death of the mulatto leader, a purpose which at last was most unfortunately accomplished, but then only through treachery. in emulation of his predecessor, weyler also tried his hand at trocha building. he constructed a fence of this description across cuba between the port of artemisa and the bay of majana, about twenty-five miles from havana. it may be of interest to describe this particular trocha, as it was one of, if not the most important, and a good example of the others. as its name, trocha, signifies, it was a ditch, or rather two ditches, some three yards wide and the same in depth, with a road between them broad enough to allow cavalry to pass. on each bank was a barbed wire fence, to stop the assailants' progress. beyond the two ditches, were trous-de-loup, or wolf-traps, from twenty to seventy feet apart. at every hundred yards or so there were fortifications. after night fell, this fortified line was lighted by electricity. twelve thousand men comprised the garrison, besides outposts of half as many more. weyler prided himself greatly upon this trocha, which was intended to keep the rebels at a distance. but, in spite of all the precautions taken, the wily maceo and his men more than once crossed the trocha, and the spanish were not the wiser until it was too late to prevent them. once, when they had passed the obstruction without a shot being fired, the insurgents tore up some distance of a railway line on the further side of the trocha, the cuban leader remarking: "we did this just to show the enemy that we noticed their plaything." the headquarters of the insurgents was and is up to the present writing, a place called cubitas, the top of a mountain, something over a score of miles from puerto principe. it is practically impregnable, only a very narrow spiral path leading up to it. a handful of men could defend it against a large army. the little plain on top of the mountain has an area of more than a square mile. it is arable land, and many food products are raised there. the insurgents have constructed here quite a number of wooden buildings, and they have also a dynamite factory. it would take a long time to capture the place by storm or to starve the defenders out. the cubans have had one great advantage, that is, they are acclimated. quite the contrary is true of the spanish army of invasion, and their ranks have suffered far more from the climate than they have from the bullets of the foe. added to this, their wages are greatly in arrears and the rations provided for them are unwholesome and insufficient. the surgeons have a very small supply of quinine and antiseptics, both of which are absolutely essential. the strength of the two armies, at the time of weyler's arrival in cuba was about as follows: the government has , men, including the , volunteers, while the insurgents numbered not much more than a fourth of this, some fifty or sixty thousand men, which were scattered among the various provinces, the largest proportion being massed in santiago de cuba. there were twenty-four generals in the cuban army, nineteen being white, three black, one a mulatto, and one an indian; of the thirty-four colonels, twenty-seven were white, five were black, and two were mulattoes. the record of the mortality among the spanish soldiers is an appalling one, something simply ghastly to contemplate. harper's weekly has published statistics concerning spanish losses in cuba, which were obtained from a source that it was forbidden to disclose. in two years from march, to march, , , were killed in battle, died of wounds, and , were wounded, but recovered. ten per cent. of the killed and fatally wounded were officers, and per cent. of the wounded died of yellow fever, while officers and about , men succumbed to other maladies. another authority gives the following rates of losses: out of every thousand, ten were killed, sixty-six died of yellow fever, two hundred and one died of other diseases, while one hundred and forty-three were sent home, either sick or wounded. out of two hundred thousand men sent to cuba in two years, only in the neighborhood of ninety-six thousand, capable of bearing arms, were left the first of march, . during our own civil war one and sixty-five one-hundredths per cent. of all those mustered into the united states service were killed in action or died of their wounds; ten per cent. were wounded, and a little less than two per cent. died of wounds and from unknown causes. that we lost during the civil war, , men from disease is terrible enough, but to equal the percentage of the spanish losses from the same cause, during twice the time that our war lasted, would bring the total up to a million and a half of men. from the very beginning, the insurgents held possession of the two eastern provinces, santiago and puerto principe. it was only by unremitting efforts and the loss of many lives that the spaniards retained their hold on the district about bayamo. late in general calixto garcia, now second in rank to gomez, and playing an important part in the aiding of the american troops, landed on the island with strong reinforcements. garcia, who was also a veteran of the ten years' war had several more or less important engagements with the spanish, in almost all of which he was victorious. antonio maceo, in order to consult with gomez, crossed the trocha on the night of december , . the next day, at the head of five hundred men and within an hour's ride of havana, he was killed in a skirmish, just as he had made the declaration that all was going well. a young son of gomez, who was suffering from an old wound, and who refused to leave the ground until his chief was carried away, was also killed. there is not the shadow of a doubt but that this double catastrophe was due to the treachery of one of maceo's companions, a certain dr. zertucha. one of maceo's aides tells the story as follows: "firing was heard near punta brava, and zertucha, who had ridden off to one side of the road, came galloping back, crying: "come with me! come with me! quick! quick!" maceo at once put spurs to his horse, and, followed by his five aids, rode swiftly after the physician, who plunged into the thick growth on the side of the road. the party had only ridden a few yards, when zertucha, bent low in his saddle, and swerved sharply to one side, galloping away like mad. almost at the same moment, a volley was fired by a party of spanish soldiers hidden in the dense underbrush, and maceo and four of his men dropped out of their saddles, mortally wounded." the single survivor, the man whose words are quoted above, contrived to get back to his own party and brought them to the scene of the tragedy. the spaniards were driven away, maceo's body was found stripped, and young gomez had been stabbed, and his skull was broken. the traitor zertucha surrendered to the spanish by whom naturally he was treated with the utmost kindness and consideration. afterwards zertucha attempted to blacken maceo's memory by declaring that he was disheartened and desperate, and that his death was the result of his own folly. senor palma says of this: "general maceo was loved and supported by all men struggling for cuban independence, whether in a military or civil capacity. if a man was ever idolized by his people, that man was general maceo. dr. zertucha knows that, but perhaps he has an object in making his false assertions." an object? of course he had an object--the currying of favor with the spaniards, the saving of his own wretched carcass and the obtaining of the blood-money due him. so perished the last of the maceos, eight brothers, all having died before him in the cause of cuban liberty. the following poem on maceo's death appeared in the new york sun: antonio maceo. "stern and unyielding, though others might bow to the tempest; slain by the serpent who cowered in hiding behind thee; slumber secure where the hands of thy comrades have laid thee; dim to thine ear be the roar of the battle above thee. set now is thy sun, going down in darkness and menace, while through the thick-gathering clouds one red ray of vengeance streams up to heaven, blood red, from the place where thou liest. though the sword of death's angel lies cold on thy forehead, still to the hearts of mankind speaks the voice of thy spirit: still does thine angry shade arrest the step of the tyrant. "v. b." maceo's death was a terrible blow to the insurgents, but, with indomitable spirit they rallied and plunged with renewed energy into the fray. maceo was succeeded by general rius rivers, who does not seem to have been in any way the equal of his predecessor. having accomplished by low treachery what he had not succeeded in doing by open, honorable warfare, weyler increased his efforts to put down the rebellion in pinar del rio, where maceo had been in command. the trochas now became of advantage, and weyler succeeded in confining rivera's scattered bands to the province. early in , rivera was made a prisoner, and since then nothing of importance, from a military standpoint, has occurred in pinar del rio. in there were but few incidents of interest in the war. the cubans were holding back, evading conflicts wherever they could, and waiting for the long-delayed interposition of the united states. guines, however, was taken by them, and general garcia captured the fortified post of tunas after a fight of three days. the spanish commander and about forty per cent. of his force were killed. finally the remainder of the garrison surrendered. the spoils which fell into the hands of the cubans comprised a large amount of rifles and ammunition, besides two krupp guns. the victory was a notable one, especially as weyler had cabled his government that tunas was impregnable. its fall gave rise to much harsh criticism and bitter feeling in spain. weyler was constantly proclaiming the "pacification" of certain provinces, statements that were most transparently absurd and false. he even immediately followed up his proclamations by the most severe and brutal measures in those very provinces. finally even madrid, to whom it would have mattered little if the policy had proved a success, became convinced that weyler's savage procedure was a failure. the butcher had gained absolutely no advantage, but had simply been the cause of untold and undeserved suffering. the insurrection, taking it all for all, was just as strong, if not stronger, than it was the day weyler arrived in cuba. so, in october, , he was withdrawn from his post, and summoned back to spain. it is to be hoped that the world will never again witness such a shameful and shameless exhibition as was his administration. before dismissing him from these pages, let us quote from stephen bonsal, with whose words no unprejudiced person can quarrel. mr. bonsal says: "should they be wise, and they will have a moment of clairvoyance soon, or they will disappear as a nation, the spaniards should seek to cast a mantle of oblivion and forgetfulness about the wretched name of weyler and all the ignoble deeds that have characterized his rule. while it cannot be expected that the bishop will be displaced by the butcher, there is one whom weyler will displace upon his unenviable pinnacle of prominence in the temple of infamy, and that is alva. his name is destined to become in every tongue that is spoken by civilized people a synonym of bloody, relentless and pitiless war waged upon american soil, upon the long-disused methods of the vandals and the visigoths; and alva, who had the cruel spirit of his age and a sincere fanaticism as his excuse, will step down and out into an oblivion which will doubtless be grateful to his shade, and most certainly so to those who bear his execrated name. "i could ask no more terrible punishment for him (weyler) than many years of life to listen to the voices of despair he has heard ring out upon his path through cuba; to hear again and ever the accusing voices which no human power can hush, and to review the scenes of suffering which he has occasioned which no human power can obliterate from his memory." chapter xiii. america's charity and spain's diplomacy. the new governor-general of cuba was don ramon blanco, as to whose character accounts differ. it is probable that while he is not the high-minded, honorable gentleman that campos was, he is far, very far from being such an unmitigated beast as his predecessor. before he reached cuba, which was the last of october, , he stated in an interview: "my policy will never include concentration. i fight the enemy, not women and children. one of the first things i shall do will be to allow the reconcentrados to go out of the town and till the soil." this sounds very just and right, but, as a matter of fact, the policy enounced was never carried out, not even in minor particulars. the persecution of the pacificos remained as bitter and relentless as ever. perhaps general blanco is not entirely to blame for this, as the pressure brought to bear against his expressed ideas both by the home government and by the "peninsulars" in havana, who had been in full accord with the methods of the "butcher," was so strong as scarcely to be resisted. blanco issued an amnesty proclamation soon after his arrival in havana, but the insurgents paid little or no attention. their experience in such matters in the past had been too stern to be forgotten. in the field, blanco was also most unsuccessful, gaining nothing but petty victories of no value whatever. the pay of the spanish soldiers was terribly in arrears, and their rations were of the most meagre description. no wonder that they were disheartened, and in no condition to fight. in a word, blanco absolutely failed, as completely as had his predecessors, in quelling the rebellion. the people of the united states were becoming more and more enraged at the atrocities committed at their very door, and more and more anxious that the cubans should have the independence which they themselves had achieved. moreover, there was a large number of americans in the island who were made to suffer from the policy of reconcentration. citizens of the united states, a large number of them being naturalized americans, were constantly being seized and imprisoned, on suspicion alone, no proof whatever being advanced, of their furnishing aid and comfort to the insurgents. they were placed in filthy cells, no communication with the outside world being allowed them. this is what the spaniards term "incommunicado." no writing materials were allowed them and nothing whatever to read. the windows were so high up that no view was to be obtained. the cells were damp with the moisture of years and had rotten, disease-breeding floors, covered with filth of every description. moreover, they were overrun with cockroaches, rats and other vermin. the sustenance furnished the prisoners was wretched, and even such as it was, it was not given to them regularly. more often than not, they were left for long hours to suffer the pangs of hunger and thirst. a notable instance of americans being seized and imprisoned in these loathsome dungeons is the following: a little schooner called the "competitor" attempted to land a filibustering expedition. she was captured, after most of her passengers had been landed, and her crew, numbering five, were tried by a court which had been instructed to convict them, and sentenced to death. they would undoubtedly have been executed, as some years before had been the prisoners of the ill-fated virginius, had it not been for the prompt intervention of the united states, spurred thereto by general fitz hugh lee. the conviction was growing stronger and stronger in the united states that something should be done to mitigate the terrible suffering in cuba. the red cross association, a splendid charitable organization, at the head of which was miss clara barton, undertook this noble work of relief. the government of the united states lent its assistance and support. large sums of money and tons of supplies of food were contributed throughout the union, both by public and private donations. the newspapers everywhere, north, east, south and west, did magnificent service in furthering the good work. spain, instead of showing gratitude, rather resented this, and there was considerable difficulty to prosecute the labor of charity. still, the efforts, in the interests of suffering humanity were by no means unavailing. president mckinley speaks of the movement as follows: "the success which had attended the limited measure of relief extended to the suffering american citizens of cuba, by the judicious expenditure through consular agencies, of money appropriated expressly for their succor by the joint resolution approved may , , prompted the humane extension of a similar scheme of aid to the great body of sufferers. a suggestion to this end was aquiesced in by the spanish authorities. on the twenty-fourth of december last, i caused to be issued an appeal to the american people, inviting contributions, in money or in kind, for the starving sufferers in cuba, following this on the eighth of january by a similar public announcement of the formation of a central cuban relief committee, with headquarters in new york city, composed of three members representing the american national red cross society, and the religious and business elements of the community. the efforts of that committee have been untiring and have accomplished much. arrangements for free transportation to cuba have greatly aided the charitable work. the president of the american red cross and representatives of other contributory organizations have generously visited cuba and co-operated with the consul-general and the local authorities to make effective disposition of the relief collected through the efforts of the central committee. nearly $ , in money and supplies has already reached the sufferers and more is forthcoming. the supplies are admitted duty free, and transportation to the interior has been arranged, so that the relief, at first necessarily confined to havana and the larger cities, is now extended through most if not all of the towns through which suffering exists. thousands of lives have already been saved. the necessity for a change in the condition of the reconcentrados is recognized in the spanish government." and yet spain resented these charitable efforts, as being opposed to her policy. the people of the united states, in sending this money and these supplies, had nothing else in view but charity, a longing to do all that they could to relieve the anguish of an oppressed and tortured people. there was no ulterior motive whatever. a large amount of the sums contributed was diverted to a purpose very different from that for which it had been intended. the spanish government, more through fear of the condemnation of the other european nations than anything else, voted about six hundred thousand dollars for the relief of the starving reconcentradoes. but this was a ruse, a sum chiefly on paper. general lee, and his testimony is incontrovertible, says: "i do not believe six hundred thousand dollars, in supplies, will be given to those people, and the soldiers left to starve. they will divide it up here and there; a piece taken off here and a piece taken off there. i do not believe they have appropriated anything of the kind. the condition of the reconcentrados out in the country is just as bad as in general weyler's day. it has been relieved a good deal by supplies from the united states, but that has ceased now. "general blanco published a proclamation, rescinding general weyler's bando, as they call it there, but it has had no practical effect. in the first place, these people have no place to go; the houses have been burned down; there is nothing but the bare land there, and it would take them two months before they could raise the first crop. in the next place, they are afraid to go out from the lines of the towns, because the roving bands of the spanish guerillas, as they are called, would kill them. so they stick right in the edges of the town, just like they did, with nothing to eat except what they can get from charity. the spanish have nothing to give." the government and people of spain now became very much afraid of the attitude of the united states. they knew that something had to be done, so to speak, to throw a sop to cerberus. therefore sagasta, the premier of spain, conceived the idea of granting to cuba a species of autonomy. but, with the usual spanish diplomacy, it was not autonomy at all. it purposed to be home rule, but every article gave a loop-hole for spain not to fulfill her obligations. it was a false and absurd proposition, intended to deceive, but too flimsy in its fabric to deceive any one. it was rotten clean through, and was opposed by everyone except the framers of the autonomistic papers, general blanco, his staff and a few others, who hoped, but hoped in vain, great things from the proclamation. the cuban leaders, who at one time would have hailed with joy such a concession, if they had been assured that the provisions would have been followed out loyally and without fraud, now rejected the autonomistic proposition with scorn and loathing. their battle cry was now, and they were determined it ever should be: "independence or death!" it was too late. there was no possibility now of home rule under spanish domination. gomez even went so far as to declare that any one who should attempt to bring to his camp any offer of autonomy would be seized as a spy and shot. general lee, speaking of the proposed autonomy, says: "blanco's autonomistic government was doomed to failure from its inception. the spanish soldiers and officers scorned it because they did not desire cuban rule, which such autonomy, if genuine, would insure. the spanish merchants and citizens were opposed to it because they too were hostile to the cubans having control of the island, and, if the question could be narrowed down to cuban control or annexation to the united states, they were all annexationists, believing that they could get a better government, and one that would protect in a greater measure life and property under the united states flag than under the cuban banner. on the other hand, the cubans in arms would not touch it, because they were fighting for free cuba. and the cuban citizens and sympathizers were opposed to it also." senor palma sums up the question of autonomy as follows: "autonomy would mean that the cuban people will make their own laws, appoint all their public officers, except the governor-general, and attend to the local affairs with entire independence, without, of course, interference by the metropolis. what then would be left to spain, since between her and cuba there is no commercial intercourse of any kind? spain is not and cannot be, a market for cuban products, and is moreover unable to provide cuba with the articles in need by the latter. the natural market for the cuban products is the united states, from which in exchange cuba buys with great advantage flour, provisions, machinery, etc. what then, i repeat, is left to spain but the big debt incurred by her, without the consent and against the will of the people of cuba? we perfectly understand the autonomy of canada as a colony of great britain. the two countries are closely connected with each other by the most powerful ties--the mutual interest of a reciprocal commerce." murat halstead, who is invariably logical and correct, puts the whole matter in a few trenchant words: "there is nothing to regard as possible in any of the reforms the spaniards are promising with much animation and to which they ascribe the greatest excellence, to take place after the insurgents have surrendered their arms. spain is, as always, incapable of changing her fatal colonial policy, that never has been or can be reformed." spain's fatal colonial policy. could there be truer words? let us pause for a moment to contemplate what this fatal colonial policy has cost her. at one time she swayed the destinies of europe and had possessions in every continent. samuel johnson, in writing of her, said: "are there no regions yet unclaimed by spain? quick, let us rise, those unhappy lands explore, and bear oppression's insolence no more." the whole reason of spain's downfall is the ruthless and savage character of the spanish people. due to her oppression, note the following list of colonies which she has lost: . the netherlands. . malacca, ceylon, java and other islands. . portugal. . spain renounced all claim to holland. . brabant and other parts of flanders. . maestricht, hetogenbosch, breda, bergen-of-zoom, and many other fortresses in the low countries. in this year also she practically surrendered supremacy on the seas to northern europe. . rousillon and cardague. by the cession of these places to france, the boundary line between france and spain became the pyrenees. . other portions of flanders. . still more cities and towns in flanders. . gibraltar. . majorca, minorca and ivizza. . the nootka sound settlements. . st. domingo. . louisiana. . trinidad. . florida. - . mexico, venezuela, colombia, ecuador, peru, bolivia, chili, argentina, uruguay, paraguay, patagonia, guatemala, honduras, nicaragua, san salvador, hayti and numerous other islands. spain has now not a foot of territory on the american continent, and very shortly she will not have a foot anywhere except within the confines of her own home. to return again to the proposed autonomy of cuba. at the time it was offered gomez, that grand old man of cuba said: "this is a war to the death for independence, and nothing but independence will we accept. to talk of home rule is to idle away time. but i have hopes that the united states, sooner or later, will recognize our belligerency. it is a question of mere justice, and, in spite of all arts of diplomacy, justice wins in the long run. the day we are recognized as belligerents, i can name a fixed term for the end of the war. "with regard to paying an indemnity to spain, that is a question of amount. a year ago we could pay $ , , , and i was ready to agree to that. now that spain owes more than $ , , , we will not pay so much." it was too late now to speak of reforms or of home rule in any shape. the cubans were not willing to nurse illusions. they were resolved on absolute freedom or nothing. any form of spanish rule would mean the entire subjection of the cubans, and, had they accepted the proposed autonomy, there is no doubt but that the future would have been as bad, if not worse, than the past. public opinion in the united states was never so deeply aroused as it was now. citizens in all ranks of life were calling loudly for interference, which, in the name of civilization and humanity, should end the horrible state of affairs in cuba. the united states was cuba's natural defender and protector, and now, both press and public declared, was the time to act. the president was fully aware of the gravity of the situation, but with rare discretion, for which future historians will give him due credit, he bided his time, preferring, if possible, peace with honor. in his first message relating to the cuban situation, president mckinley said: "if it shall hereafter appear to be a duty imposed by our obligations to ourselves, to civilization and humanity, to intervene with force, it shall be without fault on our part, and only because the necessity of such action will be so clear as to command the support and approval of the civilized world." general stewart l. woodford, our minister to spain, behaved with the utmost courtesy and did everything in the power of mortal man to avoid hostilities. one cause of the american people's irritability, and in all justice there was much reason for it, was spain's pretence that the cuban war had been prolonged because of america's inability or non desire to maintain neutrality. nothing could be falser or more absurd, for the united states had invariably, whenever possible, stopped all filibustering expeditions to cuba. the records will bear out this statement, without any possibility of refutation. more than two millions of dollars had been expended by the united states in spain's interest. certainly, gratitude or its equivalent is a word that does not appear in the spanish lexicon. chapter xiv. the last days of peace. then came the de lome incident which served to inflame further passions already aroused. senor enrique depuy de lome was the spanish minister to this country. he wrote a letter, strongly denunciatory of the president's message, and of the president himself; with the worst taste possible, he alluded to mr. mckinley as a low politician, one who catered, for political purposes, to the rabble. this letter was intercepted and a copy given to the press. the original was sent to the state department. of course de lome at once became persona non grata, which the spanish government recognized, and even before minister woodford could make a "representation," de lome was recalled from his position and senor polo appointed in his place. president mckinley showed the most admirable self-poise through all this affair, evincing outwardly no resentment for what was a personal insult to himself. it was declared that we ought to have a ship of war in havana harbor to protect american citizens, and for that purpose, the maine was sent there. it was the visit of a friendly ship to, at that time, a friendly country. the maine was received by the spanish officials with every outward show of respect, the firing of salutes and the raising of the american and spanish flags on the vessels of different nationalities. and yet what was the result? once more came an exhibition of spain's perfidy. we know it is very much like the scotch verdict of "non proven," but still there is no doubt among fair-minded men. a tragedy ensued, a tragedy in which spain played the part of the villain, and such an unconscionable villain as has never been seen upon the boards of any stage. on the night of tuesday, february , , the united states battleship maine, presumably in friendly waters, was lying calmly anchored in the harbor of havana. suddenly, with no warning whatever, for there was no suspicion on the part of either officers or men, the magnificent battleship was blown up. two officers and two hundred and sixty of the crew perished, but their names and memories will ever be cherished affectionately and gratefully by the american people. all on board behaved in the most heroic manner, captain charles d. sigsbee, the commander being the last to leave the fated ship. the famous naval historian, captain mahan, says: "the self-control shown in the midst of a sudden and terrible danger, of which not one of the men on board knew, showed that in battle with known dangers about them, and expecting every minute the fate that might overtake them, the fellow sailors of the men of the maine would stand to their guns and their ship to the last. it was evident that the old naval spirit existed, and that the sailors of the new navy were as good as those who manned the old-time ships." the maine was one of the very best vessels in the american navy; with her stores and ammunition, she represented an expenditure of close upon five millions of dollars. the blowing up of the maine and the loss of our brave men aroused the most intense excitement throughout the united states, but the request of captain sigsbee that public opinion should be suspended until thorough investigation had been made, was followed, and the people behaved with admirable and remarkable control. a naval board of inquiry was at once organized by the united states government. this board consisted of experienced officers, who were greatly assisted in their labors by a strong force of experts, wreckers and divers. the investigation was most searching. the st of march, , the board presented a unanimous verdict. the report was most voluminous, embracing some twelve thousand pages. the verdict was practically that "the loss of the maine was not in any respect due to fault or negligence on the part of any of the officers or members of her crew; that the ship was destroyed by the explosion of a submarine mine, which caused the partial explosion of two or more of her forward magazines; and that no evidence has been obtainable fixing the responsibility of the destruction of the maine upon any person or persons." although it was not possible to obtain evidence which should convict the guilty parties, there was not and never has been the faintest doubt in the mind of any fair-minded person as to who was responsible for the tragedy. when congress afterward spoke of the crime or the criminal negligence of the spanish officials, the words found an ardent response in the heart of every true american. there is no doubt but that the destruction of the maine was the lever that started the machinery of war. like "remember the alamo!" "remember the maine!" is a clarion cry of battle that will go echoing down the centuries. in cuba we were most fortunate in having a superb representative in the person of general fitz hugh lee, a man of rare intellectual ability, ever courteous but ever firm, a fine specimen of southern chivalry. the spaniards, as was but natural, hated him, but when his withdrawal was suggested by the spanish government president mckinley cabled to minister woodford at madrid that the services of general lee at havana were indispensable and his removal could not be considered. the relations between spain and the united states became every day more and more strained. every effort was made by the president to bring about a peaceable solution of the cuban question, but spain, stiff necked and suicidal, refused to cooperate with him. on april , the president sent his famous message to congress. in it, he alluded to the way in which we had been forced to police our own waters and watch our own seaports in prevention of any unlawful act in aid of cuba. he spoke of how our trade had suffered, how the capital invested by our citizens in cuba had been largely lost, and how the temperance and forbearance of our own people had been so sorely tried as to beget a perilous unrest among our own citizens. the president, also, made some strong arguments against both belligerency and recognition, especially against the latter. he quoted jackson's argument, on the subject of the recognition of texas, concluding as follows: "prudence, therefore, seems to dictate that we should stand aloof, and maintain our present attitude, if not until mexico itself or one of the great foreign powers shall recognize the independence of the new government; at least until the lapse of time or the course of events should have proved beyond cavil or dispute the ability of the people of that country to maintain their separate sovereignty and to uphold the government constituted by them. neither of the contending parties can justly complain of this course. by pursuing it we are but carrying out the long established policy of our government, a policy which has secured us respect and influence abroad and inspired confidence at home." it is necessary to quote still further from president mckinley's message, a message so fine, so just and so true, that we are sure it will go down into history praised by all future historians, as it well deserves to be. he says: "the spirit of all our acts hitherto has been an earnest, unselfish desire for peace and prosperity in cuba, untarnished by differences between us and spain, and unstained by the blood of american citizens. "the forcible intervention of the united states as a neutral to stop the war, according to the large dictates of humanity and following many historical precedents where neighboring states have interfered to check the hopeless sacrifice of life by internecine conflicts beyond their borders, is justifiable on rational grounds. it involves, however, hostile constraint upon both parties to the contest, as well as to enforce a truce as to guide the eventual settlement. the grounds for such intervention may be briefly summarized as follows: " . in the cause of humanity and to put an end to the barbarities, bloodshed, starvation and horrible miseries now existing there, and which the parties to the conflict are either unable or unwilling to stop or mitigate. it is no answer to say that this is all in another country, belonging to another nation, and is, therefore, none of our business. it is specially our duty, for it is right at our doors. " . we owe to our citizens in cuba to afford them that protection and indemnity for life and property which no government there can or will afford, and to that end to terminate the conditions that deprive them of local protection. " . the right to intervene may be justified by the very serious injury to the commerce, trade and business interest of our people, and by the wanton destruction of property and devastation of the island. " . and, what is of the utmost importance, the present condition of affairs in cuba is a constant menace to our peace and entails upon this government an enormous expense. with such a conflict waged for years in an island so near us, and with which our people have such trade and business relations--when the lives and liberty of our citizens are in constant dread, and their property destroyed and themselves ruined--where our trading-vessels are liable to seizure and are seized at our very door, by warships of a foreign nation, the expeditious of filibustering that we are powerless to prevent altogether, and the irritating questions and entanglements thus arising--all these and others that i need not mention, with the resulting strained relations, are a constant menace to our peace, and compel us to keep on a semi-war footing with a nation with which we are at peace." in his message, the president also gives utterance to these notable and memorable words: "the long trial has proved that the object for which spain wages war cannot be attained. "the fire of insurrection may flame or may smoulder with varying seasons, but it has not been, and it is plain that it cannot be, extinguished by present methods. the only hope of relief and repose from a condition which cannot longer be endured is the enforced pacification of cuba. "in the name of humanity, in the name of civilization, in behalf of endangered american interests, which give us the right and the duty to speak and to act, the war in cuba must stop." the president then refers the whole matter to congress to decide as that body may think best. a somewhat acrimonious debate, of several days duration followed, chiefly over the side issue of the recognition of the republic of cuba. on april , , by the way, the date of the first battle of the revolution at concord, massachusetts, the following joint resolution was agreed upon. "joint resolution for the recognition of the independence of the people of cuba, demanding that the government of spain relinquish its authority and government in the island of cuba, and withdraw its land and naval forces from cuba and cuban waters, and directing the president of the united states to use the land and naval forces of the united states to carry these resolutions into effect. "whereas, the abhorrent conditions which have existed for more than three years in the island of cuba, so near our own borders, have shocked the moral sense of the people of the united states, have been a disgrace to christian civilization, culminating, as they have, in the destruction of a united states battleship, with two hundred and sixty-six of its officers and crew, while on a friendly visit in the harbor of havana, and cannot longer be endured, as has been set forth by the president of the united states in his message to congress of april , , upon which the action of congress was invited; therefore, "resolved, by the senate and house of representatives of the united states of america in congress assembled, " . that the people of the island of cuba are, and of right ought to be, free and independent. " . that it is the duty of the united states to demand, and the government of the united states does hereby demand, that the government of spain at once relinquish its authority and government in the island of cuba and withdraw its land and naval forces from cuba and cuban waters. " . that the president of the united states be, and he hereby is, directed and empowered to use the entire land and naval forces of the united states, and to call into the actual service of the united states the militia of the several states to such extent as may be necessary to carry these resolutions into effect. " . that the united states hereby disclaims any disposition or intention to exercise sovereignty, jurisdiction or control over said island except for the pacification thereof, and asserts its determination, when that is accomplished, to leave the government and control of the island to its people." the president set his seal of approval upon these resolutions the following day, and the same day an ultimatum was sent to spain, practically the same as what has been quoted above. it was also stated that it was the president's duty to request an answer within forty-eight hours. within forty-eight hours the ultimatum was rejected by the spanish cortes. the ministers and representatives of the two countries were immediately recalled from their various posts, and a state of warfare proclaimed. the united states now stood pledged to aid and succor agonized cuba, to strike the shackles from off her bruised and bleeding limbs, and raise her to a position which her valor had long deserved, amongst the free and independent nations of the world. chapter xv. the topography and resources of cuba. cuba lies in the northern portion of the torrid zone, and immediately south of florida. from key west to the nearest point on the cuban coast, the distance in miles. the form of cuba is an irregular crescent, with a large number of bays or indentations. the coast line is about , miles, exclusive of the indentations; or, if we include the latter, nearly , miles. the island is about miles long. its breadth varies from miles at a point some fifty miles west of santiago to miles from havana to the south. its area is , square miles, which includes the isle of pines and several smaller islands. cuba is intersected by a range of mountains, more or less broken, which extends across the entire island, from east to west, and from which the rivers flow to the sea. this range is called the sierra del cobra, and it includes the pico de turginuo, with an altitude of , feet, the highest point on the whole island. there are other ranges, and the eastern portion of the island is particularly hilly. we must not forget the famous pan of matanzas which received its name from its resemblance to a loaf of sugar. it is , feet high, and has been of great service to mariners in enabling them to get their bearings. naturally the rivers are small, but they are numerous. the principal one, and the only one that can properly be called navigable, is the canto. schooners ascend this for about sixty miles. it rises in the sierra del cobre, and empties upon the south coast, a few miles from manzanillo. mineral springs abound, and their medicinal qualities are in high repute. of lakes there are only a few, and most of these lie in the marsh lands. the scientific american says: "the country may be broadly divided into the region of the plains the rolling uplands and the forest lands. the lowlands form a practically continuous belt around the island, and in them are to be found the great sugar plantations. above these and on the lower slopes are found the grazing and farm lands, upon, which, among other things, is raised the famous havana tobacco. the remainder of the island, especially the eastern portion is covered with a dense forest growth." the vegetation of cuba is of the most luxuriant and beautiful description. the forests are full of a large variety of trees, almost all of them most valuable for mechanical purposes. some of them are almost as hard as iron. one of these is called the quiebra hacha (the axe breaker). there are other woods such as the jucaro, which are indestructible, even under water. still others are lignum vitae, ebony, rosewood, mahogany, cedar, lancewood and many other species. there are over fifty varieties of palm, and the orange and lemon trees are indigenous. although the forests are so dense so to be almost impenetrable, there are no wild animals in them larger than the wild dogs, which closely resemble wolves both in appearance and habits. the fruits are those natural to the tropics, but only oranges, pineapples and bananas are raised for exportation. the land is not suited to the cultivation of cereals, and there is no flour mill on the island. at one time, the coffee plantations were in a flourishing condition, but the recent outbreak has largely interfered with this industry. by far the chief industries in the island are the cultivation of sugar and tobacco, both of which are famous the world over. the soil of cuba is simply a marvel of richness, practically unrivalled in any other part of the world. except occasionally in the case of tobacco, fertilizers are not used. crops have been grown on the same ground without an atom of fertilization for over a hundred years. this superb soil gives the cuban sugar planter an enormous advantage over his competitors in other countries. for instance, in jamaica, one to two hogsheads of sugar is considered a good yield, but in cuba, three hogsheads are the average. the introduction of modern machinery, which is very expensive, has done much to drive out the small planters, and the tax imposed by the spanish government almost trebled the cost to the planter. in times of peace, the sugar production of cuba averaged a million of tons a year, but this is nothing like what the island might be made to yield under a decent government and proper enterprise. it has been estimated that if all the land suitable to the growth of sugar cane were devoted to that industry, cuba might supply the entire western hemisphere with sugar. mr. gollan, the british consul general, says: "until a very recent date the manufacture of sugar and the growing of the cane in cuba were extremely profitable undertakings, and the reasons for their prosperity may be stated as: " . the excellence of the climate and the fertility of the soil, which allow of large crops of good cane. the rainfall, about inches, is so distributed that irrigation is not a necessity, though it would in many cases be advisable. " . the great movement toward the centralization of the estates which took place in the early eighties, planters having understood the value of large sugar houses and overcome their difficulty in this way. " . the proximity of the united states, affording, as it does, a cash market for the sugar." to show how the sugar trade has been injured by the cuban uprising, the following figures are of interest: description. tons in . tons in . exports , , stocks , , ---------- ---------- local consumption , , , , ---------- ---------- , , , stock on january (previous crop) , , --------- ------- total production , , , the decrease in - was , tons, equivalent to . per cent. while the tobacco crop of some portions of cuba is unsurpassed, notably that of vuelta alajo and of mayari, it is of excellent quality all over the island, the poorest of it being quite as good as that of hayti. the entire crop is estimated at $ , , annually. yet, owing to the extortions of the government, which loaded it with restrictions and exactions of every description, the tobacco industry has always been an uncertain one. it is said that the tobacco growers, disgusted with their treatment, have always been in favor of the revolutionists. the mineral riches of the island have never been exploited to any considerable extent and yet it is known that they are by no means unimportant. gold and silver exist. some specimens of the finest gold have been obtained, but at an expense of time and labor that could not remunerate the parties engaged in the enterprise. there are copper mines near santiago of large extent and very rich in ore. there are also several iron mines. numerous deposits of manganese have been found in the sierra maestra range. as nearly all the manganese used in the united states comes from the black sea, it is thought that these mines will prove very valuable, when the conditions for operating them are more favorable. bituminous coal is very abundant. marble, jasper and slate are also to be found in many parts of the island. the trade of the united states with cuba since is given as follows by the bureau of statistics, treasury department: imports. exports. $ , , $ , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , the commerce of spain with cuba since , the figures up to being taken from a compilation by the department of agriculture, and those for from a british foreign office report was: imports from exports to cuba. cuba. $ , , $ , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , the railways are insufficient and wretchedly managed, while the roads are in a deplorable condition, sometimes, in wet weather, being almost impassible. in regard to the future commercial prosperity of cuba, mr. hyatt, who until recently was our consul at santiago, gives the following opinion: "railroads and other highways, improved machinery and more modern methods of doing business are among the wants of cuba; and with the onward march of civilization these will doubtless be hers in the near future. cuba, like other tropical and semi-tropical countries, is not given to manufacturing; her people would rather sell the products of the soil and mines and buy manufactured goods. the possibilities of the island are great, while the probabilities remain an unsolved problem." when the tropical position of cuba is taken into consideration, it may be stated that its climate is generally mild. in fact, we can say that it is one of the best, if not the very best, of the countries lying within the tropics; and, during the dry season, it is unsurpassable anywhere. in this season, the days are delightful, and the nights, with the clear, transparent air, and the sky spangled with myriads of stars (many of which, notably the constellation known as "the southern cross," are not visible in more northern countries), are veritable dreams of beauty. the heat and cold are never extreme, and there is only a slight difference in the temperature all the year round. the warmest month at havana is july, with an average temperature of degrees fahrenheit, and the coldest is january, with an average temperature of degrees. the rainy season lasts from the first of may till the first of october. the popular impression is that it rains pretty nearly all the time during this season, but this is a mistake. on an average there are not more than ten rainy days a month, and the rain generally comes in the afternoon. the temperature of havana in the summer is but little higher than that of new orleans, while its rainfall is infinitely less. yellow fever exists in the coast cities all the year round, but it rarely makes its appearance in the interior. the western part of the island is as habitable as is ohio. it is certain that the effects of the climate upon the spanish soldiers has been disastrous, but much of the mortality among them have been due not to the climate alone, but to a bad system of hygiene, wretched diet, unsuitable clothing and a criminal disregard on the part of the military authorities of the health of the men under their control. the medical record, in an article on the subject, says: "there is no evading the fact, however, that the landing of a large body of more or less raw, unacclimatized men in the lowlands of a reputed unhealthy coast at the beginning of the rainy season is an experiment that must from the very nature of things be attended with much risk." but the danger to our own soldiers must also from the very nature of things, be much less than it has proved to the spaniards. our army is composed of a much higher class of men intellectually, and besides that, they will be infinitely better taken care of. the next point to be considered is the population of cuba. there has been no official census taken since . then the entire population was estimated at , , . of these about one-fifth were natives of spain, , were whites of foreign blood, , were free negroes, about , were chinese and the rest native cubans. it may be interesting to note the percentage of whites and blacks, and to see how the negro element has been decreasing both relatively and absolutely during late years. at the present time the negroes are in all probability not more than one-fourth of the entire population. per year. white. negro. cent. , , . , , . , , . , , . , , . , , . , , . , , . , , , . the island is divided into six political divisions, each province taking the name of its capital city: havana, matanzas, santa clara, puerto principe, santiago de cuba and pinar del rio. the figures in the following table give the population by provinces, as well as the density of population (number of inhabitants per square kilometer.) square provinces. inhabitants. kilometers. density. pinar del rio , , . habana , , . matanzas , , . santa clara , , . puerto principe , , . santiago de cuba , , . --------- ------- ----- totals , , , . in cuba, under spanish rule, the roman catholic is the only religion tolerated by the government. there are no protestant or jewish places of worship. a decree promulgated in madrid in declares that, while a person who should comply with all other requirements might be permitted to remain on the island, he would not be allowed to advance doctrines at variance with those of the established church. as catholicism is a state religion, its maintenance is charged to the revenues of the island, and amounts to something like $ , a year. education in cuba is, or has been, at a very low ebb. that is due, as many other things are, to the wretched, short-sighted policy of spain, the country which has never completely emerged from the darkness of barbarism. she was afraid to give education to the cubans, thinking that she could better dominate them in their ignorance. there is a royal university in havana, and a collegiate institute in each of the six provinces, the number of students in all amounting to nearly three thousand, but these come almost without exception from the ranks of the well-to-do. less than one out of every forty-five of the children in cuba attend the public schools. there was a farcical law passed in , making education compulsory. how could such a law be of any effect when there was neither the ability nor the desire to provide school-houses and instructors? now let us take a brief glance at some of the chief cities of cuba. havana, the principal and capital city of the island, is situated on the west side of the bay of havana, on a peninsula of level land of limestone formation. it is the seat of the general government and captain-generalcy, superior court of havana (audencia,) general direction of finance, naval station, arsenal, observatory, diocese of the bishopric and the residence of all the administrative officers of the island (civil, military, maritime, judicial and economic). its strategic position at the mouth of the gulf of mexico has aptly given to the city the name of the key of the gulf; and a symbolic key is emblazoned in its coat-of-arms. the harbor, the entrance to which is narrow, is wide and deep, and a thousand ships could easily ride there at anchor. it has always been supposed to be strongly fortified, its chief defences being morro castle, the cabana, the castillo del principe, fort atares, the punta and the reina battery. the population of havana, from the last official estimate, is about , . before the present war, havana was one of the most charming places in the world for the tourist to visit, more especially during the winter months. there is scarcely a city in europe which, to the american seemed so foreign as havana. the whole appearance of the place, its manners and customs, were all totally different to what the american had been accustomed. the streets are so narrow that vehicles by law are obliged to pass down one street and up another, while the sidewalks are not more than two feet wide and hollowed down in the centre by the constant trampling of feet. this applies to the city proper, for, outside the walls, there are many broad and beautiful avenues. the streets are very noisy and, as a rule, excessively unclean. the houses, many of them palaces, wonderfully beautiful within, but situated on dark and dirty alleys, are all built about a central courtway. there are no fireplaces anywhere, nor a window shielded with glass in the whole city. the windows have iron bars, and within those of the first story is the inevitable row of american rocking chairs. through these bars the cuban lover interviews his inamorata. it would be the height of indecorum for him to approach nearer, to seek to speak with her within the walls of her own home, even in the presence of her father and mother. cows are driven about the streets and milked in front of your own door, when you desire the lacteal fluid. this custom is, at all events, a safeguard against adulteration. ladies do not go into the shops to make purchases, but all goods are brought out to them as they sit in their volantes. by the way, the volante (flyer) is the national carriage and no other, practically, is used in the country. it consists of a two seated vehicle, slung low down by leather straps from the axle of two large wheels, and it has shafts fifteen feet long. the horse in the shafts is led by a postillion, whose horse is harnessed on the other side of the shafts in the same manner. the carriage is extremely comfortable to travel in, and the height of the wheels and their distance apart prevent all danger of turning over, although the roads in the country are for the most part, mere tracks through fields and open land. ox carts and pack mules are used for conveying goods in the interior of the island outside of the meagre railway lines. havana has some beautiful public parks and some really fine statues, chiefly those of spain's former rulers. its principal theatre, the tacon, is celebrated throughout the world for its size and beauty. in regard to theatres, there is one peculiar custom in havana: by the payment of a certain sum, beyond the price of admission, one is allowed to go behind the scenes between the acts. this privilege has caused great annoyance to many eminent artists. the cathedral of havana is rather imposing in architecture, although it is badly situated, but it is very interesting because there is an urn within its walls which is said, and with a large semblance of truth, to contain the bones of columbus. space does not permit us to tell of all the charms of havana, but, suffice it to say, that it was and will be again, under far happier conditions too, one of the most delightful cities in the world. the city of cuba, next in commercial importance to havana, is matanzas. it is beautifully situated on the north coast, about seventy miles from havana, and has a population of about fifty thousand. the climate is fine, and matanzas is considered the healthiest city on the island. with proper drainage (something that has hitherto been almost unknown in cuba as are all other sanitary arrangements) yellow fever and malaria would be almost unknown. if it should ever come under american enterprise, the city would develop into a superb pleasure resort and be a fatal rival to the florida towns. we cannot forbear to mention the caves of bellamar. these are not far from matanzas and are subterranean caverns, of which there are a number in cuba. the walls and roofs are covered with stalactites of every conceivable hue and shape, and forming pictures of beauty far beyond anything conceived of, even in the arabian nights. the most modern city of importance is cienfuegos (as its name signifies, the city of a hundred fires). it has a population of about twenty-six thousand and its harbor is one of the best on the southern coast, with a depth of feet at the anchorage, and from to feet at the wharves. cardenas is a seaport on the north coast about miles east of havana. its population is about the same as cienfuegos. in the rainy season, its climate is distinctly bad and its sanitary conditions worse. it has some large manufactories, and carries on a flourishing trade. santiago de cuba, on the southeastern coast, is the second city of size in cuba ( , inhabitants), and the one on which all american eyes have been fixed, for it is there that our brave sampson bottled up cervera's illusive fleet, and on its suburbs a fierce battle was fought, july , and , between the american troops under general shafter and the spanish army under general linares, resulting in the defeat of the latter and the subsequent surrender of the city to the united states' forces on sunday, july . it is very difficult, by the way, to find the entrance to the harbor of santiago. approaching it from the sea, nothing is seen but lofty mountains. when quite near, two mountains seem to suddenly part, and a channel only yards wide, but of good depth, is revealed. it is the oldest city in america, many years older than st. augustine, having been founded by velasquez in , and is exceedingly quaint and mediaeval. its chief fortifications are the castillo of la socapa and the morro castle, the largest and most picturesque of the three of that name. the latter was built about , and is a fine specimen of the feudal "donjon keep" with battlemented walls, moats, drawbridge, portcullis and all the other paraphernalia of the days of romance. the harbor itself, around which so much interest has clustered, is naturally one of the finest in the world, but no pains has been taken to improve it, the funds appropriated for that purpose having been stolen by the spanish engineers and officials. santiago is spanish for st. james, who is the special patron saint of spain, on account of a myth that he once made a journey to that country. cuba, in short, is one of the most beautiful and fertile countries on the face of the globe, but man, in the shape of brutal spain, has done everything he could, to ruin the gifts nature so lavishly bestowed. let us hope and believe, as surely we have every reason to do, that upon the "pearl of the antilles," the sun of prosperity will rise, driving away the gloomy shadows of oppression, and that the dawn will be not long postponed. chapter xvi. what will the future be? it is unnecessary to refer except in a brief manner to the spanish-american war, as the struggle is at the present time of writing only in its inception, and no one can tell how long it will last or what reverses each side may experience before peace is declared. one thing is certain, however. the result is not problematical. it is assured. the united states will be victorious in the end, be that end near or distant, and cuba must and shall be free. if ever there was a war that was entered into purely from motives of humanity and with no thought whatever of conquest, it is this one. the entire people of the united states were agreed that their purpose was a holy one, and instantly the call of the president was responded to from all parts of the country. sectional differences, such as they were, vanished like mist before the sun. there was no easterner, no westerner, no northerner, no southerner, but "americans all." we are proud of our army and navy, and justly so. dewey destroyed a large fleet, without the loss of a man, a feat unprecedented in the annals of warfare, ancient or modern. sampson bottled up cervera's fleet in the harbor of santiago, after the wily admiral had attempted a diplomacy which was nothing more nor less than absurd, and when cervera, on the eve of the surrender of the city, attempted to escape from his self-constituted trap, his four armored cruisers and two torpedo boat destroyers were literally riddled and sunk outside the harbor by the skilful gunners of the american fleet. hobson, in sinking the merrimac, displayed a heroism that has never been surpassed. and on land, general shafter's achievements have been brilliant in the extreme. it is interesting here to examine for a moment the attitude of other countries toward us since the declaration of war with spain. of course they all declared neutrality. at first france apparently was very bitter against us, declaring that it was a war of aggression and one that was unjustified. we think we have already shown in these pages how unwarrantable such an accusation was. there was a reason for france's feeling, outside of the fact that her people, like spain's, belong to the latin race, and that reason was that a large proportion of spanish bonds was held in france. even the best of us do not bear with equanimity anything which depletes our pockets. but it was not long before a great change took place both in press and public and a wave of french sympathy turned toward us. this is as it should be and was inevitable. there could be no lasting rancor between us and our sister republic, the country who gave us lafayette and presented us with the statue of liberty. the press of germany has unquestionably said some very harsh things. but we are confident that the feeling is confined to the press and does not represent the mass of the people. we do know that it is in no way representative of the german government, which from the very beginning has showed itself most friendly to us. the ties between germany and the united states are too strong ever to be severed, with the thousands and thousands of germans in this country who rank among our very best citizens. russia, who from time immemorial has been our friend and given us her moral support in all our troubles, has treated us with the utmost cordiality. but the pleasantest thing of all has been the attitude of great britain, our once mother country. she has stood by us through thick and thin, hurling defiance in the face of the world in her championship of us, and rejoicing in our victories almost as if they were her own. this has done more to bring the two great english-speaking nations together than anything else could possibly have done, and will probably have far reaching consequences in the future. the marquis of lansdowne, the british secretary of state of war, in a recent speech, thus expressed himself: "there could be no more inspiring ideal than an understanding between two nations sprung from the same race and having so many common interests, nations which, together, are predominant in the world's commerce and industry. "is there anything preposterous in the hope that these two nations should be found--i will not say in a hard and fast alliance of offense and defense, but closely connected in their diplomacy, absolutely frank and unreserved in their international councils, and ready wherever the affairs of the world are threatened with disturbance to throw their influence into the same scale? "depend upon it, these are no mere idle dreams or hazy aspirations. the change which has come over the sentiment of each country toward the other during the last year or two is almost immeasurable. one can scarcely believe they are the same united states with whom, only two years ago, we were on the verge of a serious quarrel. "the change is not an ephemeral understanding between diplomatists, but a genuine desire of the two peoples to be friends, and therefore it cannot be laughed out of existence by the sort of comments we have lately heard." there is a poem which we cannot forbear to quote here, it is so fine in itself and so expressive of the existing situation. the author is richard mansfield, the eminent actor: the eagle's song. by richard mansfield. the lioness whelped, and the sturdy cub was seized by an eagle and carried up and homed for a while in an eagle's nest, and slept for a while on an eagle's breast, and the eagle taught it the eagle's song: "to be staunch and valiant and free and strong!" the lion whelp sprang from the eerie nest, from the lofty crag where the queen birds rest; he fought the king on the spreading plain, and drove him back o'er the foaming main. he held the land as a thrifty chief, and reared his cattle and reaped his sheaf, nor sought the help of a foreign hand, yet welcomed all to his own free land! two were the sons that the country bore to the northern lakes and the southern shore, and chivalry dwelt with the southern son, and industry lived with the northern one. tears for the time when they broke and fought! tears was the price of the union wrought! and the land was red in a sea of blood, where brother for brother had swelled the flood! and now that the two are one again, behold on their shield the word "refrain!" and the lion cubs twain sing the eagle's song, "to be staunch and valiant and free and strong!" for the eagle's beak and the lion's paw, and the lion's fangs and the eagle's claw, and the eagle's swoop and the lion's might, and the lion's leap and the eagle's sight, shall guard the flag with the word "refrain!" now that the two are one again! here's to a cheer for the yankee ships! and "well done, sam," from the mother's lips! war is unquestionably a terrible thing. as general sherman put it, "war is hell." but there are other terrible and yet necessary things, also, such as the operations of surgery and the infliction of the death penalty. war is justifiable, when waged, as the present one unquestionably is, from purely unselfish motives, simply from a determination to rescue a people whose sufferings had become unbearable to them and to the lookers-on. the united states, by its action, has set a lesson for the rest of the world, which the latter will not be slow to learn and for which future generations will bless the name of america. nobly are we following out the precepts of our forefathers, who declared in one of the most magnificent documents ever framed: "we hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; that, to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed; that, whenever any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it is the right of the people to alter or abolish it, and to institute new government, laying its foundation on such principles, and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their safety and happiness." we fought for these principles, in our own interests, a century and a quarter ago; in the interests of others, we are fighting for them to-day. a question which has been universally asked is this: can the cubans, if they obtain freedom, govern themselves, or will not a free cuba become a second hayti with all the horrors of that island? to this our reply is: most emphatically cuba will be able to govern herself; not in the beginning, perhaps, where mistakes must of necessity be made, but most certainly in the end. the cuban leaders are men of high intelligence and lofty purposes, and they know what reforms must be instituted. some one has said that "love of liberty is the surest guarantee of representative government." surely these men have shown their love of liberty in the fullest degree and have proved themselves in every way fitted for self-government. the cubans, strange as the statement may seem to those who have studied the matter only in a cursory way, are not a people who love trouble. though revolution after revolution has occurred in the island, the cubans have never taken up arms until every peaceful means of redress had been resorted to. it has been feared that the negro element would be a disturbing influence, but we can see little or no reason for this dread. the same thing was said of the emancipation of the slaves in our own south, but certainly, taken altogether, the behavior of the colored race in the united states, since the civil war, has been most praiseworthy. a frenchman, baron antomarchi, who is naturally unprejudiced, says: "when the time for the settlement of the cuban question shall have come it will be an affair of give and take between the whites and the negroes, and if the negro does not succeed in convincing the white man that he is entitled to a full measure of civil authority, a measure which by reason of his numerical strength he will have a right, under a republican government, to exact, then we may have to stand by while cuba engages in an internal struggle important enough to cripple or, to say the least, seriously hinder, her development. should the war come to an end and should cuba be free to develop the riches of the land for which she is now battling, an american protectorate would prevent all dangers of race conflict. the united states would be under a moral obligation to avert disorder. aside from all considerations of a commercial character there would be the obligation resulting from an adherence to consistency of conduct. the stand taken by the american legislators, or some of them, to say nothing of the stand taken by the american people, would make this latter obligation even still more binding. not until her machetes shall have been returned to their original use can cuba develop the riches bestowed upon her by nature. after the dawn of peace, when her sons are free to settle down to the tranquil life of the untrammeled husbandman, there will be no hunted exiles in the long grass of her savannas. when cuba has attained the quiet calm that her younger generation has never known, she will show the world that it was not for idle brigands that maceo died. in the shadow of the feathered cocoa palms in the deep shade of the drooping heavy leaves where gilard dreamed of liberty, great cities shall one day loom in the misty, tropic twilight, and peace shall brood over the land that now, seamed with the graves of cuba's heroes, awaits the murdered bodies of cuban victims. not until that day has come will it be known how strong to endure torment and sorrow, how brave in time of danger, were the men who won the day for cuban independence." it is absolutely certain that all the natural and political ties that have bound "the ever faithful isle" to the mother country have been so completely severed that it is utterly impossible they should ever be united again. the unique banner of cuba, with its blue and white stripes and a single star upon a red triangle, has cost more blood and treasure than any revolutionary flag known to history. when this war is over, and spain has learned her lesson, severe but well-deserved, and we hope salutary, then shall that flag take its place among the honored ones of other nations; then will the cubans show their ability to prize and cherish the liberty for which the blood of their heroes has been spilled; then, under the protectorate of the united states, but as an independent republic, will cuba, in the words of our own general lee, emerge from the dark shadows of the past, and stand side by side with those countries who have their place in the sunlight of peace, progress and prosperity. oh! cuba libre! as longfellow said of our own union, so do all americans, who are now fighting with you shoulder to shoulder, say to you: "our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee; our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, our faith triumphant o'er our fears, are all with thee--are all with thee!" (the end.) * * * * * [illustration: book's back cover] transcriber's note: both hatury and hatuey appear in the text. due to the fact that there were so many typographical errors in the printing, it is assumed that hatury is also one. hatury has been changed to hatuey which is the original spanish spelling of the taino chief's name. the spelling of the country, chile remains spelled chili. the spelling of reconcehtrado was changed to reconcentrado; add nauseam.=>ad nauseam. the title page carrie the error: it's past, present, and future. this has been corrected: its past, present, and future. transcriber's note: obvious printing errors were repaired; see the html version for details of these changes. other variation in spelling and hyphenation is as in the original text. [illustration: captain william dampier] on the spanish main or, some english forays on the isthmus of darien. with a description of the buccaneers and a short account of old-time ships and sailors by john masefield with twenty-two illustrations and a map methuen & co. essex street w.c. london _first published in _ the riverside press limited, edinburgh. to jack b. yeats contents chapter i page drake's voyage to the west indies his quarrel with the spaniards--his preliminary raids--his landfall--the secret harbour chapter ii the attack on nombre de dios the treasure of the indies--the bastimentos--a spanish herald chapter iii the cruise off the main the secret haven--the cruise of the pinnaces--cartagena--death of john drake chapter iv the road to panama the maroons--the native city--the great tree--panama--the silver train--the failure--venta cruz chapter v back to the main body the treasure train--the spoil--captain tetû hurt chapter vi the adventure of the raft drake's voyage to the catives--homeward bound--the interrupted sermon chapter vii john oxenham the voyage--his pinnace--into the south sea--disaster--his unhappy end chapter viii the spanish rule in hispaniola rise of the buccaneers--the hunters of the wild bulls--tortuga--buccaneer politics--buccaneer customs chapter ix buccaneer customs mansvelt and morgan--morgan's raid on cuba--puerto del principe chapter x the sack of porto bello the gulf of maracaibo--morgan's escape from the spaniards chapter xi morgan's great raid chagres castle--across the isthmus--sufferings of the buccaneers--venta cruz--old panama chapter xii the sack of panama the burning of the city--buccaneer excesses--an abortive mutiny--home--morgan's defection chapter xiii captain dampier campeachy--logwood cutting--the march to santa maria chapter xiv the battle of perico arica--the south sea cruise chapter xv across the isthmus the way home--sufferings and adventures chapter xvi ships and rigs pavesses--top-arming--banners--boats chapter xvii guns and gunners breech-loaders--cartridges--powder--the gunner's art chapter xviii the ship's company captain--master--lieutenant--warrant officers--duties and privileges chapter xix the choosing of watches the petty tally--food--work--punishments chapter xx in action index list of illustrations page captain william dampier _frontispiece_ nombre de dios cartagena cartagena in , showing the double harbour the ship in the foreground may be drake's flagship, the _bonaventure_ an elizabethan warship a pinnace beyond, to the left ship and flying-fish a buccaneer's slave, with his master's gun a barbecue in right lower corner old port royal puerto del principe porto bello, circa , showing the situation and defences of the city the fireship destroying the "spanish admiral" castle de la barra in background chagres (circa ) the isthmus, showing morgan's line of advance new panama the battle of panama sir henry morgan a description of arica a description of hilo an elizabethan galleon an elizabethan galleon a galliasse the "sovereign of the seas" map of the buccaneer cruising grounds on the spanish main chapter i drake's voyage to the west indies his quarrel with the spaniards--his preliminary raids--his landfall--the secret harbour francis drake, the first englishman to make himself "redoubtable to the spaniards" on the spanish main, was born near tavistock about the year . he was sent to sea, as a lad, aboard a channel coaster engaged in trade with the eastern counties, france and zeeland. when he was eighteen years of age he joined his cousin, john hawkins, then a great and wealthy merchant, engaged in the slave trade. four years later he sailed with hawkins on a memorable trading voyage to the spanish main. on this occasion he commanded a small vessel of fifty tons. the voyage was unfortunate from the beginning, for the spaniards had orders from their king to refuse to trade with any foreigners. before the english could get rid of their freight the ships of their squadron were severely battered by a hurricane, so that they were forced to put into san juan d'ulloa, the port of vera cruz, to refit. while they lay there a spanish fleet arrived, carrying a vast quantity of gold and silver for transhipment to spain. it was not to hawkins' advantage to allow this spanish force to enter the haven, for he feared that they would treat him as a pirate if they had an opportunity to do so. however, the spaniards came to terms with him, an agreement was signed by both parties, and the spanish ships were allowed into the port. the next day the spaniards treacherously attacked the english squadron, sank one of the ships at her moorings, killed many of the men, captured a number more, and drove the survivors to sea in drake's ship the _judith_, and a larger ship called the _minion_. it was this treacherous attack (and, perhaps, some earlier treachery not recorded) which made drake an implacable enemy of the spaniards for the next twenty-eight years. after the disaster at san juan d'ulloa, drake endeavoured to obtain some recompense for the losses he had sustained. but "finding that no recompence could be recovered out of spain by any of his own means, or by her majesties letters; he used such helpes as he might by two severall voyages into the west indies." in the first of these two voyages, in , he had two ships, the _dragon_ and the _swan_. in the second, in , he sailed in the _swan_ without company. the _swan_ was a small vessel of only five and twenty tons, but she was a "lucky" ship, and an incomparable sailer. we know little of these two voyages, though a spanish letter (quoted by mr corbett) tells us of a spanish ship he took; and thomas moone, drake's coxswain, speaks of them as having been "rich and gainfull." probably drake employed a good deal of his time in preparing for a future raid, for when he ventured out in earnest in he showed himself singularly well acquainted with the town he attacked. the account from which we take our information expressly states that this is what he did. he went, it says, "to gaine such intelligences as might further him to get some amends for his losse. and having, in those two voyages, gotten such certaine notice of the persons and places aymed at, as he thought requisite; and thereupon with good deliberation, resolved on a third voyage, he accordingly prepared his ships and company ... as now followes further to be declared." there can be little doubt that the two tentative voyages were highly profitable, for drake was able to fit out his third expedition with a care and completeness almost unknown at that time. the ships were "richly furnished, with victuals and apparel for a whole year: and no lesse heedfully provided of all manner of munition, artillery, artificers, stuffe and tooles, that were requisite for such a man-of-war in such an attempt." he himself, as admiral of the expedition, commanded the larger ship, the _pascha_ of plymouth, of seventy tons. his younger brother, john drake, sailed as captain of the _swan_. in all there were seventy-three men and boys in the expedition; and we read that they were mostly young men--"the eldest ... fifty, all the rest under thirty." they were all volunteers--a fact that shows that drake had gained a reputation for luck in these adventures. forty-seven of the seventy-three sailed aboard the _pascha_; while the _swan_ carried the remaining twenty-six, probably with some inconvenience. carefully stowed away in the holds of the two vessels were "three dainty pinnases, made in plimouth, taken asunder all in pieces, to be set up as occasion served." this instance of drake's forethought makes it very clear that the expedition had been planned with extreme care. the comfort of the men had been studied: witness the supply of "apparell." there was a doctor aboard, though he does not seem to have been "a great proficient" in his art; and the expedition was so unusually healthy that we feel convinced that drake had some specific for the scurvy. "on whitsunday eve, being the of may, ," the two ships "set sayl from out of the sound of plimouth," with intent to land at nombre de dios (name of god) a town on the northern coast of the isthmus of darien, at that time "the granary of the west indies, wherein the golden harvest brought from peru and mexico to panama was hoarded up till it could be conveyed into spain." the wind was steady from the north-east the day they sailed, so that the watchers from the shore must soon have lost sight of them. no doubt the boats of all the ships in the sound came off to give the adventurers a parting cheer, or, should they need it, a tow to sea. no doubt the two ships were very gay with colours and noisy with the firing of farewells. then at last, as the sails began to draw, and the water began to bubble from the bows, the trumpeters sounded "a loath to depart," the anchor came to the cathead, and the boats splashed back to plymouth, their crews jolly with the parting glasses. the wind that swept the two ships out of port continued steady at north-east, "and gave us a very good passage," taking them within sight of porto santo, one of the madeiras, within twelve days of their leaving plymouth. the wind continued fair when they stood to the westward, after sighting the canaries, so that neither ship so much as shortened sail "untill dayes after," when the men in the painted tops descried the high land of guadaloupe. they stood to the south of guadaloupe, as though to pass between that island and dominica, but seeing some indians busily fishing off a rocky island to the south of dominica they determined to recruit there before proceeding farther. this island was probably marygalante, a pleasant island full of trees, a sort of summer fishing ground for the dominican indians. there is good anchorage off many parts of it; and drake anchored to the south, sending the men ashore to live in tents for their refreshment. they also watered their ships while lying at anchor "out of one of those goodly rivers which fall down off the mountain." running water was always looked upon as less wholesome than spring water; and, perhaps, they burnt a bag of biscuit on the beach, and put the charcoal in the casks to destroy any possible infection. they saw no indians on the island, though they came across "certain poore cottages built with palmito boughs and branches," in which they supposed the indians lodged when engaged upon their fishery. having filled the casks, and stowed them aboard again, the ships weighed anchor, and sailed away south towards the mainland. on the fifth day, keeping well to seaward, thirty miles from the shore, to avoid discovery, they made the high land of santa martha on "the terra firma." having made the landfall they sailed westward into the gulf of darien, and in six days more (during two of which the ships were becalmed) they came to a secret anchorage which drake had discovered in his former voyage. he had named it port pheasant, "by reason of the great store of those goodly fowls which he and his company did then dayly kill and feed on in that place." "it was a fine round bay, of very safe harbour for all winds, lying between two high points, not past half a cable's length (or a hundred yards) over at the mouth, but within eight or ten cables' length every way, having ten or twelve fadome water, more or lesse, full of good fish, the soile also very fruitfull." drake had been there "within a year and few days before," and had left the shore clear of tangle, with alleys and paths by which men might walk in the woods, after goodly fowls or otherwise; but a year of that steaming climate had spoiled his handiwork. the tangle of many-blossomed creepers and succulent green grasses had spread across the paths "as that we doubted at first whether this were the same place or no." we do not know where this romantic harbour lies, for the gulf of darien is still unsurveyed. we know only that it is somewhere nearly equidistant from santiago de tolu (to the east) and nombre de dios (to the west). roughly speaking, it was miles from either place, so that "there dwelt no spaniards within thirty-five leagues." before the anchors were down, and the sails furled drake ordered out the boat, intending to go ashore. as they neared the landing-place they spied a smoke in the woods--a smoke too big to come from an indian's fire. drake ordered another boat to be manned with musketeers and bowmen, suspecting that the spaniards had found the place, and that the landing would be disputed. on beaching the boats they discovered "evident markes" that a plymouth ship, under the command of one john garret, had been there but a day or two before. he had left a plate of lead, of the sort supplied to ships to nail across shot-holes, "nailed fast to a mighty great tree," some thirty feet in girth. on the lead a letter had been cut: captain drake, if you fortune to come to this port, make hast away; for the spanyards which you had with you here the last year, have bewrayed this place, and taken away all that you left here. i departed from hence this present of july, . your very loving friend, john garret. the smoke was from a fire which garret and his men had kindled in a great hollow tree, that was probably rotted into touchwood. it had smouldered for five days or more, sending up a thick smoke, to warn any coming to the harbour to proceed with caution. the announcement that the place was known to the spaniards did not weigh very heavily upon drake; nor is it likely that he suffered much from the loss of his hidden stores, for nothing of any value could have been left in such a climate. he determined not to leave "before he had built his pinnaces," and therefore, as soon as the ships were moored, he ordered the pieces to be brought ashore "for the carpenters to set up." the rest of the company was set to the building of a fort upon the beach by the cutting down of trees, "and haling them together with great pullies and halsers." the fort was built in the form of a pentagon, with a sort of sea-gate opening on the bay, for the easy launching of the pinnaces. this gate could be closed at night by the drawing of a log across the opening. they dug no trench, but cleared the ground instead, so that for twenty yards all round the stockhouse there was nothing to hinder a marksman or afford cover to an enemy. beyond that twenty yards the forest closed in, with its wall of living greenery, with trees "of a marvellous height" tangled over with the brilliant blossoms of many creepers. the writer of the account seems to have been one of the building party that sweated the logs into position. "the wood of those trees," he writes, "is as heavie, or heavier, than brasil or lignum vitæ, and is in colour white." the very next day an english barque came sailing into the anchorage, with two prizes, in her wake--"a spanish carvell of sivell," which had despatches aboard her for the governor of nombre de dios, and a shallop with oars, picked up off cape blanco to the eastward. she was the property of sir edward horsey, at that time governor of the isle of wight, a gallant gentleman, who received "sweetmeats and canarie wine" from french pirates plying in the channel. her captain was one james rawse, or rause; and she carried thirty men, some of whom had been with drake the year before. captain rause, on hearing drake's intentions, was eager "to joyne in consort with him." we may well imagine that drake cared little for his company; but conditions were agreed upon, an agreement signed, and the two crews set to work together. within seven days the pinnaces had been set up, and launched, and stored with all things necessary. then early one morning (the th of july) the ships got their anchors, and hoisted sail for nombre de dios, arriving three days later at the isles of pines, a group of little islands covered with fir-trees, not far to the west of the mouth of the gulf of darien. at the pine islands they found two frigates of nombre de dios, "lading plank and timber from thence," the soft fir wood being greatly in demand on the mainland, where the trees were harder, and difficult to work. the wood was being handled by negroes, who gave drake some intelligence of the state of affairs at the little town he intended to attack. they said that the town was in a state of siege, expecting to be attacked at any moment by the armies of the cimmeroons, who had "neere surprised it" only six weeks before. the cimmeroons were "a black people, which about eighty yeares past, fledd from the spaniards their masters, by reason of their cruelty, and are since growne to a nation, under two kings of their owne: the one inhabiteth to the west, th'other to the east of the way from nombre de dios to panama." they were much dreaded by the spaniards, with whom they were at constant war. the late alarm had caused the governor to send to panama for troops, and "certaine souldiers" were expected daily to aid in the defence of the town. having gathered this intelligence drake landed the negroes on the mainland, so that they might rejoin their countrymen if they wished to do so. in any case, by landing them so far from home he prevented them from giving information of his being in those waters. "for hee was loath to put the towne to too much charge (which hee knew they would willingly bestowe) in providing before hand, for his entertainment." but being anxious to avoid all possibility of discovery "he hastened his going thither, with as much speed and secrecy as possibly he could." it had taken him three days to get to the isles of pines from his secret harbour--a distance certainly not more than miles. he now resolved to leave the three ships and the carvel--all four grown more or less foul-bottomed and slow--in the care of captain rause, with just sufficient men to work them. with the three dainty pinnaces and the oared shallop that rause had taken, he hoped to make rather swifter progress than he had been making. he took with him in the four boats fifty-three of his own company and twenty of captain rause's men, arranging them in order according to the military text-book: "six targets, six firepikes, twelve pikes, twenty-four muskets and callivers, sixteene bowes, and six partizans, two drums, and two trumpets"--making seventy-four men in all, the seventy-fourth being the commander, drake. having furnished the boats for the sea with his usual care drake parted company, and sailed slowly to the westward, making about fifteen miles a day under oars and sails. perhaps he sailed only at night, in order to avoid discovery and to rest his men. early on the morning of the th july they landed "at the island of cativaas," or catives, off the mouth of the st francis river. here drake delivered them "their severall armes, which hitherto he had kept very faire and safe in good caske," so that neither the heavy dew nor the sea-water should rust them or wet the powder. he drilled them on the shore before the heat of the sun became too great, and after the drill he spoke to them "after his manner," declaring "the greatnes of the hope of good things that was there, the weaknesse of the towne being unwalled, and the hope he had of prevailing to recompence his wrongs ... especially ... as hee should be utterly undiscovered." in the afternoon, when the sun's strength was past, they set sail again, standing in close to the shore "that wee might not be descried of the watch-house." by sunset they were within two leagues of the point of the bay to the north-north-east of the town; and here they lowered their sails, and dropped anchor, "riding so untill it was darke night." when the night had fallen they stood in shore again, "with as much silence as wee could," till they were past the point of the harbour "under the high land," and "there wee stayed all silent, purposing to attempt the towne in the dawning of the day, after that wee had reposed ourselves for a while." nombre de dios nombre de dios was founded by diego di niqueza early in the sixteenth century, about the year . it received its name from a remark the founder made on his first setting foot ashore: "here we will found a settlement in the name of god." it was never a large place, for the bay lay exposed to the prevalent winds, being open to the north and north-east. there was fair holding ground; but the bay was shallow and full of rocks, and a northerly gale always raised such a sea that a ship was hardly safe with six anchors out. the district was very unhealthy, and the water found there was bad and in little quantity. there was, however, a spring of good water on an island at the mouth of the harbour. to the shoreward there were wooded hills, with marshy ground on their lower slopes, feeding a little river emptying to the north of the town. the houses came right down to the sea, and the trees right down to the houses, so that "tigers [_i.e._ jaguars] often came into the town," to carry away dogs, fowls, and children. few ships lay there without burying a third of their hands; for the fever raged there, as it rages in some of the brazilian ports at the present time. the place was also supposed to favour the spread of leprosy. the road to panama entered the town at the south-east; and there was a gate at this point, though the town was never walled about. the city seems to have been built about a great central square, with straight streets crossing at right angles. like cartagena and porto bello, it was as dull as a city of the dead until the galleons came thither from cartagena to take on board "the chests of gold and silver" received from the governor of panama and the golden lands to the south. when the galleons anchored, the merchants went ashore with their goods, and pitched sailcloth booths for them in the central square, and held a gallant fair till they were sold--most of the bartering being done by torchlight, in the cool of the night. panama was distant some fifty-five miles; and the road thither was extremely bad, owing to the frequent heavy rains and the consequent flooding of the trackway. at the time of drake's raid, there were in all some sixty wooden houses in the place, inhabited in the _tiempo muerto_, or dead time, by about thirty people. "the rest," we read, "doe goe to panama after the fleet is gone." those who stayed must have had a weary life of it, for there could have been nothing for them to do save to go a-fishing. the fever never left the place, and there was always the dread of the cimmeroons. out in the bay there was the steaming water, with a few rotten hulks waiting to be cast ashore, and two or three rocky islets sticking up for the sea to break against. there was nothing for an inhabitant to do except to fish, and nothing for him to see except the water, with the dripping green trees beside it, and, perhaps, an advice boat slipping past for cartagena. once a year an express came to the bay from panama to say that the peru fleet had arrived at that port. a letter was then sent to cartagena or to san juan d'ulloa to order the great galleons there anchored to come to collect the treasure, and convey it into spain. before they dropped anchor in the nombre de dios bay that city was filled to overflowing by soldiers and merchants from panama and the adjacent cities. waggons of maize and cassava were dragged into the streets, with numbers of fowls and hogs. lodgings rose in value, until a "middle chamber" could not be had for less than crowns. desperate efforts were made to collect ballast for the supply ships. then the treasure trains from panama began to arrive. soldiers marched in, escorting strings of mules carrying chests of gold and silver, goatskins filled with bezoar stones, and bales of vicuna wool. the town became musical with the bells of the mules' harness. llamas spat and hissed at the street corners. the plaza became a scene of gaiety and bustle. folk arrived hourly by the muddy track from panama. ships dropped anchor hourly, ringing their bells and firing salutes of cannon. the grand fair then began, and the city would be populous and stirring till the galleons had cleared the harbour on the voyage to spain. as soon as the fleet was gone the city emptied as rapidly as it had filled. the merchants and merry-makers vanished back to panama, and the thirty odd wretched souls who stayed, began their dreary vigil until the next year, when the galleons returned. in , on the report of antonio baptista, surveyor to the king of spain, the trade was removed to porto bello, a beautiful bay, discovered and named by columbus, lying some twenty miles farther to the west. it is a good harbour for all winds, and offers every convenience for the careening of vessels. the surveyor thought it in every way a superior harbour. "neither," he writes, "will so many die there as there daily doe in nombre de dios." by the middle of the seventeenth century the ruins of the old town were barely discernible; but all traces of them have long since disappeared. dampier (writing of the year ) says that: "i have lain ashore in the place where that city stood; but it is all overgrown with wood; so as toe leave noe sign that any town hath been there." a thick green cane brake has overgrown the plaza. the battery has crumbled away. the church bell which made such a clatter has long since ceased to sound. the latest admiralty chart ignores the place. [illustration: nombre de dios] the cimmeroons frequently attacked the city while it was in occupation. once they captured and destroyed it. drake visited the town a second time in . it was then a "bigge" town, having large streets and "houses very hie, all built of timber," "one church very faire," and "a show in their shops of great store of merchandises that had been there."[ ] there was a mill above the town, and a little watch-house "upon the top of another hill in the woods." to the east there was a fresh river "with houses, and all about it gardens." the native quarter was some miles away in the woods. drake burned the town, a deed which caused the inhabitants to migrate to porto bello. it was at nombre de dios that drake contracted the flux of which he died. the town witnessed his first triumph and final discomfiture. [footnote : this was eleven years after the royal mandate ordering the transference of the main trade of the place to porto bello. perhaps the town retained much of the trade, in spite of the mandate, as the transference involved the making of a new mule track across the bogs and crags between venta cruz and porto bello. such a track would have taken several years to lay.] _note._--the authorities for this and the following chapters are: . "sir francis drake reviv'd" (first published in ), by philip nichols, preacher, helped, no doubt, by drake himself and some of his company. . the scanty notice of the raid given in hakluyt. . the story of lopez vaz, a portuguese, also in hakluyt. for the description of nombre de dios i have trusted to the account of drake's last voyage printed in hakluyt, vol. iii. p. . in the same collection there is a translation from a very interesting report by a spanish commissioner to the king of spain. this paper gives reasons for the transference of the town to porto bello. one or two ruttiers, or mariner's guides, make mention of the port, and of these the best is given in hakluyt. it is also mentioned (but very curtly) in herrera's history, in dampier's voyages, and in the account left by champlain after his short visit to panama. i know of no plan or picture of the place. the drawing reproduced here, from schenk's "hecatompolis," is purely imaginary, however pretty. for my remarks on "cruces," or venta cruz, i am indebted to friends who have lived many years in panama, and to an interesting article in _the geographical journal_ (december-july , p. ), by colonel g. e. church, m. am. soc. c.e. chapter ii the attack on nombre de dios the treasure of the indies--the bastimentos--a spanish herald it may now have been ten o'clock at night, and we may reckon that the boats were still four or five miles from the town, the lights of which, if any burned, must have been plainly visible to the south and south-south-west. to many of those who rocked there in the bay the coming tussle was to be the first engagement. the night wind may have seemed a little chilly, and the night and the strange town full of terrors. the men fell to talking in whispers, and the constraint and strangeness of it all, the noise of the clucking water, the cold of the night, and the thought of what the negro lumbermen had said, began to get upon their nerves. they talked of the strength of the town (and indeed, although it was an open bay, without good water, it had at that time much of the importance of porto bello, in the following century). they talked "especially" of the reported troop of soldiers from panama, for spanish infantry were the finest in the world, and the presence of a company in addition to the garrison would be enough to beat off the little band in the boats. drake heard these conversations, and saw his young men getting out of hand, and "thought it best to put these conceits out of their heads." as the moon rose he persuaded them "that it was the day dawning"--a fiction made the more easy by the intervention of the high land between the watchers and the horizon. by the growing light the boats stole farther in, arriving "at the towne, a large hower sooner than first was purposed. for wee arrived there by three of the clock after midnight." it happened that a "ship of _spaine_, of sixtie tunnes, laden with canary wines and other commodities" had but newly arrived in the bay, "and had not yet furld her sprit-saile." it was the custom for ships to discharge half of their cargoes at one of the islands in the bay, so as to draw less water when they ventured farther in. perhaps this ship of spain was about to discharge her butts and tierces. at any rate her men were on deck, and the light of the moon enabled them to see the four pinnaces, "an extraordinary number" in so small a port, rowing hard, "with many oares," towards the landing. the spaniards sent away their "gundeloe," or small boat (gondola, as we should say), to warn the townsmen; but drake edged a little to the west, cutting in between the boat and the shore, so as to force her "to goe to th'other side of the bay." drake's boats then got ashore upon the sands, not more than twenty yards from the houses, directly under a battery. there was no quay, and no sea-sentry save a single gunner, asleep among the guns, who fled as they clambered up the redoubt. inside the little fort there were six great pieces of brass ordnance, some demi- some whole culverin, throwing shot of - lbs. weight for a distance of a mile. it did not take long to dismount these guns, and spike them, by beating soft metal nails into the touch-holes, and snapping them off flush with the orifice. but though the men worked quickly the gunner was quicker yet. he ran through the narrow streets, shouting the alarm, and the town woke up like one man, expecting that the cimmeroons were on them from the woods. someone ran to the church, and set the great bell swinging. the windows went up, and the doors slammed, as the townsfolk hurried to their weapons, and out into the streets. the place rang with cries and with the rapid beating of the drums, for the drummers ran about the streets beating vigorously to rouse out the soldiers. drake made the battery harmless and set a guard of twelve men over the boats on the sand. he then marched hurriedly to the little hill commanding the bay, to the east of the houses; for he had heard some talk of a battery being placed there, "which might scour round about the town," and he wished to put it out of action before venturing upon the city. he left half his company, about thirty men, to keep the foot of the hill, and climbed to the summit, where he found a "very fit place prepared," but no guns in position. he returned to the company at the foot of the mount, and bade his brother, with john oxnam, or oxenham, a gallant captain, and sixteen men, "to go about, behind the king's treasure house, and enter near the easter end of the market place." he himself with the rest would pass up the broad street into the market-place with sound of drum and trumpet. the firepikes, "divided half to the one, and half to the other company, served no less for fright to the enemy than light of our men, who by this means might discern every place very well as if it were near day." the drums beat up gallantly, the trumpets blew points of war, and the poor citizens, scared from their beds, and not yet sure of their enemy, stood shivering in the dawn, "marvelling what the matter might be." in a few moments the two companies were entering the plaza, making a dreadful racket as they marched, to add to the confusion of the townsfolk, who thought them far stronger than they really were. the soldiers of the garrison, with some of the citizens, fell into some sort of order "at the south east end of the market place, near the governor's house, and not far from the gate of the town." they chose this position because it secured them a retreat, in the event of a repulse, along the road to panama. the western end of the plaza had been hung with lines, from which lighted matches dangled, so that the enemy might think that troops were there, "whereas indeed there were not past two or three that taught these lines to dance," and even these ran away as soon as the firepikes displayed the fraud. the church bell was still ringing at the end of the plaza, and the townsfolk were still crying out as they ran for panama, when drake's party stormed into the square from the road leading to the sea. as they hove in sight the spanish troops gave them "a jolly hot volley of shot," aimed very low, so as to ricochet from the sand. drake's men at once replied with a volley from their calivers and a flight of arrows, "fine roving shafts," which did great execution. without waiting to reload they at once charged in upon the spaniards, coming at once "to push of pike" and point and edge. the hurry of the surprise was such that the spaniards had no side-arms, and when once the english had closed, their troops were powerless. as the parties met, the company under oxenham came into the plaza at the double, by the eastern road, with their trumpets blowing and the firepikes alight. the spaniards made no further fight of it. they flung their weapons down, and fled along the forest road. for a little distance the cheering sailors followed them, catching their feet in muskets and linstocks, which the troops had flung away in their hurry. having dispersed the enemy, the men reformed in the plaza, "where a tree groweth hard by the cross." some hands were detailed to stop the ringing of the alarm bell, which still clanged crazily in the belfry; but the church was securely fastened, and it was found impossible to stop the ringing without setting the place on fire, which drake forbade. while the men were trying to get into the church, drake forced two or three prisoners to show him the governor's house, where the mule trains from panama were unloaded. only the silver was stored in that place; for the gold, pearls, and jewels, "being there once entered by the king's officer," were locked in a treasure-house, "very strongly built of lime and stone," at a little distance from the cross, not far from the water-side. at the governor's house they found the door wide open, and "a fair gennet ready saddled" waiting for the governor to descend. a torch or candle was burning on the balcony, and by its light the adventurers saw "a huge heap of silver" in the open space beneath the dwelling-rooms. it was a pile of bars of silver, heaped against the wall in a mass that was roughly estimated to be seventy feet in length, ten feet across, and twelve feet high--each bar weighing about forty pounds. the men were for breaking their ranks in order to plunder the pile; but drake bade them stand to their arms. the king's treasure-house, he said, contained more gold and pearls than they could take away; and presently, he said, they would break the place open, and see what lay within. he then marched his men back into the plaza. all this time the town was filled with confusion. guns were being fired and folk were crying out in the streets. it was not yet light, and certain of the garrison, who had been quartered outside the city, ran to and fro with burning matches, shouting out "que gente? que gente?" the town at that time was very full of people, and this noise and confusion, and the sight of so many running figures, began to alarm the boat guard on the beach. one diego, a negro, who had joined them on the sands, had told them that the garrison had been reinforced only eight days before by spanish soldiers. this report, coupled with the anxiety of their position, seems to have put the boat party into a panic. they sent off messengers to drake, saying that the pinnaces were "in danger to be taken," and that the force would be overwhelmed as soon as it grew light enough for the spaniards to see the littleness of the band which had attacked them. diego's words confirmed the statements of the lumbermen at the isles of pines. the men of drake's party were young. they had never fought before. they had been on the rack, as it were, for several days. they were now quite out of hand, and something of their panic began to spread among the party on the plaza. before drake could do more than despatch his brother, with john oxenham, to reassure the guard, and see how matters stood, the situation became yet more complicated. "a mighty shower of rain, with a terrible storm of thunder and lightning," burst furiously upon them, making such a roaring that none could hear his own voice. as in all such storms, the rain came down in a torrent, hiding the town from view in a blinding downpour. the men ran for the shelter of "a certain shade or penthouse, at the western end of the king's treasure house," but before they could gain the cover some of their bowstrings were wetted "and some of our match and powder hurt." as soon as the shelter had been reached, the bowstrings were shifted, the guns reprimed, and the match changed upon the linstocks. while the industrious were thus employed, a number of the hands began talking of the reports which had reached them from the boats. they were "muttering of the forces of the town," evidently anxious to be gone from thence, or at least stirring. drake heard the muttered talk going up and down the shed, and promptly told the men that he had brought them to the mouth of the treasure of the world, and that if they came away without it they might blame nobody but themselves. at the end of a "long half-hour" the storm began to abate, and drake felt that he must put an end to the panic. it was evidently dangerous to allow the men any "longer leisure to demur of those doubts," nor was it safe to give the enemy a chance of rallying. he stepped forward, bidding his brother, with john oxenham and his party, to break open the king's treasure-house, while he, with the remainder of the hands, maintained the plaza. "but as he stepped forward his strength and sight and speech failed him, and he began to faint for want of blood." he had been hit in the leg with a bullet at the first encounter, yet in the greatness of his heart he had not complained, although suffering considerable pain. he had seen that many of his men had "already gotten many good things" from the booths and houses in the plaza, and he knew very well that these men would take the first opportunity to slink away down to the boats. he had, therefore, said nothing about his wound, nor was it light enough for his men to see that he was bleeding. on his fainting they noticed that the sand was bloody, "the blood having filled the very first prints which our footsteps made"--a sight which amazed and dismayed them, for they "thought it not credible" that a man should "spare so much blood and live." they gave him a cordial to drink, "wherewith he recovered himself," and bound his scarf about his leg "for the stopping of the blood." they then entreated him "to be content to go with them aboard," there to have his wound probed and dressed before adventuring farther. this did not satisfy drake, for he knew very well that if the spaniards rallied, the town would be lost, for it was "utterly impossible, at least very unlikely, that ever they should, for that time, return again, to recover the state in which they now were." he begged them to leave him where he was, and to get the treasure, for "it were more honourable for himself to jeopard his life for so great a benefit, than to leave off so high an enterprise unperformed." but to this the men would not listen. with drake, their captain, alive "they might recover wealth sufficient" at any time, but with drake dead "they should hardly be able to recover home." those who had picked up a little booty in the raid were only too glad of an excuse to get to the boats, while those who were most eager to break the treasure-house, would not allow drake to put his life in hazard. drake, poor man, was spent with loss of blood, and could not reason with them, so that, "with force mingled with fair entreaty, they bare him aboard his pinnace, and so abandoned a most rich spoil for the present, only to preserve their captain's life." it was just daybreak when they got to the boats, so that they were able to take stock of each other in the early morning light before shoving off from the beach. they had lost but one man, "a trumpeter," who was shot dead in the plaza in the first assault, "his trumpet still in his hand." many were wounded, but the captain's wound seems to have been the most serious. as they rowed out from the town the surgeons among them provided remedies and salves for the wounded. as they neared the open sea the men took the opportunity to attack "the aforesaid ship of wines," for "the more comfort of the company." they made her a prize with no great trouble, but before they got her clear of the haven they received a shot or two from the dismantled battery. one of the culverins which they had tumbled to the ground was remounted by some of the garrison, "so as they made a shot at us." the shot did not hit the mark, and the four boats, with their prize, got clear away to the isle of bastimentos, or isle of victuals, about a league to the westward of the harbour. they stayed there for the next two days, to cure the wounded men and to refresh themselves, "in the goodly gardens which we there found." the island was stocked with dainty roots and fruits, "besides great plenty of poultry," for it served the citizens as a farm and market-garden, "from which their fresh provisions were derived." soon after they had come to anchor, and established themselves among the fruit-trees, a flag of truce came off from the governor of the city. it was carried by a spanish captain, who had come to nombre de dios with the company of troops from panama. he was a handsome gentleman, of a delicate carriage and of an elaborate politeness. he was come, of course, as a spy, but he began with the assurance that he came "of mere good will," to see the heroes who had attempted the town with so small a party. at the first, he said, the townsfolk had thought them frenchmen, from whom they looked for little mercy, but that afterwards, when the arrows had shown them that they were english, they had less fear, for they knew the humanity of that race. although, he said, his curiosity to see such brave folk were sufficient warrant for his adventuring among them, he had also a commission from the governor. that gentleman wished to know whether their captain was the same captain drake, of whom some of the townsfolk talked as being so kind to his prisoners. he then asked whether the arrows used in the battle in the plaza had been poisoned, for many spaniards had been wounded by them, and would fain know how to treat the wounds. lastly he wished to know whether they were in need of victuals or other necessaries, pledging the governor's word that he would do all he could to supply anything they wanted. the questions seem to us a little transparent, and so they seemed to drake, but drake was always a courteous and ceremonious gentleman. he replied that he was the captain drake they meant; that "it was never his manner to use poisoned arrows"; that the wounds could be cured by the usual methods; and that as for wants, the isle of bastimentos would supply him. he wanted nothing, he said, "but some of that special commodity which that country yielded." and, therefore, he advised the governor "to hold open his eyes, for before he departed, if god lent him life and leave, he meant to reap some of their harvest, which they got out of the earth, and send into spain to trouble all the earth." the answer seems to have nettled the spanish spy, for he asked ("if he might, without offence, move such a question") why the english had left the town when tons of silver, with gold to a far greater value, had been lying at their mercy. drake showed him the "true cause" of his unwilling retreat to the pinnaces. the answer moved the spaniard to remark that "the english had no less reason in departing, than courage in attempting,"--a remark made with a mental note that the townsfolk would be well advised to leave this drake alone on his island, without sending boats out to attack him. drake then entertained the spy to dinner, "with great favour and courteous entertainment, and such gifts as most contented him." as he made his way to his boat after dinner he vowed and protested that "he was never so much honoured of any in his life." he must have had a curious story for the governor when he got ashore to the town. as soon as the trumpets had sounded the departure of the flag of truce, drake sent for diego, the negro, who had joined the boat party in the morning. from diego he learned many "intelligences of importance," none of them, perhaps, more grateful to drake than the news that his name was highly honoured among the maroons or cimmeroons. diego begged that drake would give him an opportunity of treating with the chiefs of these savages, as by their help, he said, they "might have gold and silver enough." the matter was debated among the company, while drake gave effect to another of his plans. not more than thirty miles away along the coast was a certain river, "the river of chagres," which trended in a south-easterly direction towards panama across the isthmus. it was navigable to within six leagues of panama, and at the point to which it was navigable there stood "a little town called venta cruz." when the road from panama to nombre de dios was impracticable, owing to the rains, or the raids of the maroons, the treasure was carried to venta cruz, and there shipped aboard swift vessels, built for oars and sails, which carried the precious stuff to nombre de dios. drake had a mind to look into venta cruz to surprise some of the treasure on its way. he, therefore, sent away his brother, with two pinnaces and a steady man named ellis hixom, to examine the chagres river, and to bring back a report of its fitness for boats such as theirs. having seen them stand to the west, drake ordered his men aboard early in the morning of the st july. the sweeps were shipped and the sails hoisted, and the pinnaces made off with their captured wine ship to rejoin captain rause at the isles of pines, or port plenty. they arrived at their haven on the evening of the st of august, after a sail of thirty-six hours. captain rause was angry that the raid had not been more successful, and felt that it was useless to stay longer in those seas, now that the spaniards knew that they were on the coast. he waited till the pinnaces returned from chagres river, as some of his hands were in them; but as soon as they arrived he parted company, after dissolving partnership with drake. drake seems to have been glad to see him go. chapter iii the cruise off the main the cruise of the pinnaces--cartagena--the secret haven--death of john drake while they were waiting for the pinnaces drake had the ships set in order, the arms scoured, and everything made ready for the next adventure. he had taken nombre de dios so easily that he felt confident of treating cartagena, the chiefest town in those waters, in the same way. on the th of august he set sail for cartagena with his two ships and three pinnaces, making no attempt upon the mainland as he sailed, as he did not wish to be discovered. he met with calms and light airs on the passage, and did not arrive off cartagena until the evening of the th august. he came to anchor in seven-fathom water between the islands of charesha (which we cannot now identify) and st barnards, now known as san barnardo. as soon as the sails were furled, drake manned his three pinnaces, and rowed about the island into the harbour of cartagena, "where, at the very entry, he found a frigate at anchor." he hooked on to her chains, and boarded her, finding her an easy spoil, for she had been left in the care of "only one old man." they asked this old sailor where the rest of the company had gone. he answered that they were gone ashore in their gundeloe that evening, to fight about a mistress, adding that about two hours before, a pinnace had gone past under sail, with her oars out, and the men rowing furiously. her men had hailed his vessel as they passed, asking whether any french or english men had been there. upon answer that there had been none they bade him look to himself, and rowed on up the coast. within an hour of their going past the harbour the city batteries had fired many cannon, as though some danger were toward. one of the old man's mates had then gone aloft "to descry what might be the cause." he had looked over the narrow neck of land which shuts the harbour from the sea, and had espied "divers frigates and small shipping bringing themselves within the castle." this report showed drake that he had been discovered, but the information did not greatly move him. he gathered from the old mariner that a great ship of seville lay moored just round the next point, with her yards across, "being bound the next morning for st domingo," or hispaniola. drake "took this old man into his pinnace to verify that which he had informed, and rowed towards this ship." as he drew near, the spanish mariners hailed them, asking "whence the shallops came." drake answered: "from nombre de dios." his answer set the spaniards cursing and damning him for a heretic english buccaneer. "we gave no heed to their words," says the narrative, but hooked on to the chains and ports, on the starboard bow, starboard quarter, and port beam, and laid her aboard without further talk. it was something of a task to get on board, for the ship stood high in the water, being of tons, (and as far as we can judge) in ballast. having gained the ship's waist they tossed the gratings and hatch covers down into the lower decks. the spaniards gave up the ship without fighting, and retired, with their weapons, to the hold. two or three of their younger seamen went forward, and hid in the manger, where they were found as soon as the dark decks were lit by a lantern from the pinnaces. the raiders then cut the ship's cables, and towed her "without the island into the sound right afore the town," just beyond the shot of the citizens' great guns. as they towed her out, the town took the alarm, the bells were rung, thirty great cannon were fired, and the garrison, both horse and foot, well armed with calivers, marched down "to the very point of the wood," to impeach them "if they might" in their going out to sea. the next morning (drake being still within the outer harbour) he captured two spanish frigates "in which there were two, who called themselves king's scrivanos [notaries] the one of cartagena, the other of veragua." the boats, which were sparsely manned, had been at nombre de dios at the time of the raid. they were now bound for cartagena with double letters of advice, "to certify that captain drake had been at nombre de dios, and taken it; and had it not been that he was hurt with some blessed shot, by all likelihood he had sacked it. he was yet still upon the coast," ran the letter, "and they should therefore carefully prepare for him." sailing out of the haven (by the boca chica, or little mouth) drake set his pinnaces ashore, and stood away to the san barnardo islands, to the south of the town, where he found "great store of fish" as a change of diet for his men. he then cruised up and down among the islands, considering what he should attempt. he had been discovered at the two chief cities on the main, but he had not yet made his voyage (_i.e._ it had not yet paid expenses), and until he had met with the maroons, and earned "a little comfortable dew of heaven," he meant to stay upon the coast. he, therefore, planned to diminish his squadron, for with the two ships to keep it was difficult to man the pinnaces, and the pinnaces had proved peculiarly fitted for the work in hand. with one ship destroyed, and the other converted into a storeship, his movements would, he thought, be much less hampered; "but knowing the affection of his company, how loath they were to leave either of their ships, being both so good sailers and so well furnished; he purposed in himself some policy to make them most willing to effect what he intended." he, therefore, sent for thomas moone, who was carpenter aboard the _swan_, and held a conference with him in the cabin. having pledged him to secrecy, he gave him an order to scuttle that swift little ship in the middle of the second watch, or two in the morning. he was "to go down secretly into the well of the ship, and with a spike-gimlet to bore three holes, as near the keel as he could, and lay something against it [oakum or the like] that the force of the water entering, might make no great noise, nor be discovered by a boiling up." thomas moone "at the hearing hereof" was utterly dismayed, for to him the project seemed flat burglary as ever was committed. why, he asked, should the captain want to sink so good a ship, a ship both "new and strong," in which they had sailed together in two "rich and gainfull" voyages? if the captain's brother (john drake, who was master of the _swan_) and the rest of the company (twenty-six hands in all) should catch him at such practices he thought verily they would heave him overboard. however, drake promised that the matter should be kept secret "till all of them should be glad of it." on these terms moone consented to scuttle the _swan_ that night. the next morning, a little after daybreak, drake called away his pinnace, "proposing to go a-fishing." rowing down to the _swan_ he hailed her, asking his brother to go with him. john drake was in his bunk at the time, and replied that "he would follow presently," or if it would please him to stay a very little he would attend him. drake saw that the deed was done; for the _swan_ was slowly settling. he would not stay for his brother, but asked casually, "as making no great account of it," why their barque was so deep in the sea. john drake thought little of the question, but sent a man down to the steward, who had charge of the hold, to inquire "whether there were any water in the ship, or what other cause might be?" the steward, "hastily stepping down at his usual scuttle," was wet to the waist before he reached the foot of the ladder. very greatly scared he hurried out of the hold, "as if the water had followed him," crying out that the ship was full of water. john drake at once called all hands to mend ship, sending some below to find the leak and the remainder to the pumps. the men turned to "very willingly," so that "there was no need to hasten them," and john drake left them at their work while he reported the "strange chance" to his brother. he could not understand how it had happened. they had not pumped twice in six weeks before, and now they had six feet of water in the hold. he hoped his brother would give him "leave from attending him in fishing," as he wished to find the leak without delay. drake offered to send the _pascha's_ men abroad to take a spell at the pumps, but this john drake did not wish. he had men enough, he said; and he would like his brother to continue his fishing, so that they might have fresh fish for dinner. on getting back to the _swan_ he found that the pumps had gained very little on the leak, "yet such was their love to the bark, ... that they ceased not, but to the utmost of their strength laboured all that they might, till three in the afternoon." by that time the _pascha's_ men, helped by drake himself, had taken turn about at the pump brakes, and the pumping had been carried on for eight or nine hours without ceasing. the pumping had freed her only about a foot and a half, and the leak was still undiscovered. the men were tired out, for the sun was now at his hottest, and drake adds slyly that they "had now a less liking of her than before, and greater content to hear of some means for remedy." we gather from what follows, that when he asked them what they wished to do, they left it all to him. he, therefore, suggested that john drake should go aboard the _pascha_ as her captain. he himself, he said, would shift into a pinnace; while the _swan_ should be set on fire, and abandoned as soon as her gear was taken out of her. the pinnaces came aboard the sinking ship, and the men pillaged her of all her stores. powder, tar, and the like were scattered about her decks; and she was then set on fire, and watched until she sank. thus "our captain had his desire, and men enough for his pinnaces." the next morning, the th august, the squadron bore away for the gulf of darien, to find some secret harbour where they might leave the ship at anchor, "not discoverable by the enemy," who thereby might imagine them quite departed from the coast. drake intended to take two of the pinnaces along the main as soon as they had hidden away the _pascha_, for he was minded to go a cruise up the rio grande, or magdalena river. in his absence john drake was to take the third pinnace, with diego, the negro, as a guide, to open up communications with the cimmeroons. by the st of august they arrived in the gulf; and drake sought out a secret anchorage, far from any trade route, where the squadron might lie quietly till the fame of their being on the coast might cease. they found a place suited to their needs, and dropped their anchors in its secret channels, in "a fit and convenient road," where a sailor might take his ease over a rum bowl. drake took his men ashore, and cleared a large plot of ground "both of trees and brakes" as a site for a little village, trimly thatched with palm leaves, which was built by diego, the negro, after the indian fashion, for the "more comfort of the company." the archers made themselves butts to shoot at, because they had "many that delighted in that exercise and wanted not a fletcher to keep the bows and arrows in order." the rest of the company, "every one as he liked best," disported merrily at bowls and quoits, fleeting the time carelessly as they did in the golden age. "for our captain allowed one half of the company to pass their time thus, every other day interchangeable," the other half of the crew being put to the provision of fresh food and the necessary work aboard the vessels. drake took especial interest in trying the powers of the pinnaces, trimming them in every conceivable way, so as to learn their capacity under any circumstance. the smiths set up their forge, "being furnished out of england with anvil, iron, and coals" (surely drake never forgot anything), which stood the expedition "in great stead," for, no doubt, there was much iron-work that needed repair. the country swarmed with conies, hogs, deer, and fowl, so that the men lived upon fresh meat, or upon the fish in the creeks, "whereof there was great plenty." the woods were full of wholesome fruits, though, perhaps, the water of the neighbouring rivers was not quite all that could be wished. they stayed in this pleasant haven for fifteen days, at the end of which drake took his two pinnaces, leaving john drake behind in charge of the _pascha_ and the remaining pinnace, and sailed away along the coast to explore the rio grande. he kept the pinnaces far out at sea to avoid discovery, and landed on the th of september about six miles to the westward of the river's mouth, in order to obtain some fresh beef from the indian cowherds. the district was then rich pasture-land, as rich as the modern pastures in argentina. it was grazed over by vast herds of cattle, savage and swift, which the spaniards placed in charge of indian cowboys. when the beeves were slaughtered, their meat was dried into charqui, or "boucanned," over a slow fire, into which the hide was thrown. it was then sent down to cartagena, for the provisioning of the galleons going home. the province (nueva reyna) was less pestilential than its westward neighbours. sugar was grown there in the semi-marshy tracts near the river. gold was to be found there in considerable quantities, and there were several pearl fisheries upon the coasts. the district was more populous than any part of spanish america, for it was not only healthier, but more open, affording little cover for maroons. [illustration: cartagena] on landing, drake met some indians in charge of a herd of steers. they asked him in broken spanish "what they would have." drake gave them to understand that he wished to buy some fresh meat, upon which they picked out several cattle "with ease and so readily, as if they had a special commandment over them, whereas they would not abide us to come near them." the indians have just that skill in handling cattle which the negroes have in handling mules. they did drake this service willingly, "because our captain, according to his custom, contented them for their pains with such things as they account greatly of." he left them in high good humour, promising him that if he came again he should have what he desired of them. drake left the shore as soon as his pinnaces were laden with fresh meat, and sailed on up the coast till he reached the lesser, or western, mouth of the rio grande, "where we entered about three of the clock." the river runs with a great fierceness, so that the hands were able to draw fresh water "for their beverage" a mile and a half from the mouth. it was a current almost too fierce to row against in the hot sun, so that five hours' hard rowing only brought them six miles on their way upstream. they then moored the pinnaces to a great tree that grew on the bank. they ate their suppers in that place, hoping to pass a quiet evening, but with the darkness there came such a terrible thunderstorm "as made us not a little to marvel at," though drake assured the younger men that in that country such storms soon passed. it wetted them to the bone, no doubt, but within three-quarters of an hour it had blown over and become calm. immediately the rain had ceased, the air began to hum with many wings, and forth came "a kind of flies of that country, called mosquitoes, like our gnats," which bit them spitefully as they lay in the bottoms of the boats. it was much too hot to lie beneath a blanket, and the men did not know how to kindle a "smudge" of smouldering aromatic leaves. they had no pork fat nor paraffin to rub upon their hands and faces, according to the modern practice, and "the juice of lemons," which gave them a little relief, must have been a poor substitute. "we could not rest all that night," says the narrative. at daybreak the next morning they rowed away from that place, "rowing in the eddy" along the banks, where the current helped them. where the eddy failed, as in swift and shallow places, they hauled the boats up with great labour by making a hawser fast to a tree ahead, and hauling up to it, as on a guess-warp. the work of rowing, or warping, was done by spells, watch and watch, "each company their half-hour glass," till about three in the afternoon, by which time they had come some fifteen miles. they passed two indians who sat in a canoe a-fishing; but the indians took them to be spaniards, and drake let them think so, for he did not wish to be discovered. about an hour later they espied "certain houses on the other side of the river," a mile or so from them, the river being very broad--so great, says the narrative, "that a man can scantly be discerned from side to side." a spaniard, who had charge of those houses, espied them from the vantage of the bank, and promptly kindled a smoke "for a signal to turn that way," being lonely up there in the wilds, and anxious for news of the world. as they rowed across the current to him he waved to them "with his hat and his long hanging sleeves" to come ashore, but as soon as he perceived them to be foreigners he took to his heels, and fled from the river-side. the adventurers found that he was a sort of store or warehouse keeper, in charge of five houses "all full of white rusk, dried bacon, that country cheese (like holland cheese in fashion--_i.e._ round--but far more delicate in taste, of which they send into spain as special presents), many sorts of sweetmeats, and conserves; with great store of sugar: being provided to serve the fleet returning to spain." as they loaded their pinnaces with these provisions they talked with a poor indian woman, who told them that about thirty trading vessels were expected from cartagena. the news caused them to use despatch in their lading, so that by nightfall they were embarked again, and rowing downstream against the wind. the spaniards of villa del rey, a city some two miles inland from the storehouses, endeavoured to hinder their passage by marching their indians to the bushes on the river-bank, and causing them to shoot their arrows as the boats rowed past. they did not do any damage to the adventurers, who rowed downstream a few miles, and then moored their boats for the night. early the next morning they reached the mouth of the river, and here they hauled ashore to put the pinnaces in trim. the provisions were unloaded, and the boats thoroughly cleansed, after which the packages were stowed securely, so as to withstand the tossings of the seas. the squadron then proceeded to the westward, going out of their course for several miles in order to overhaul a spanish barque. they "imagined she had some gold or treasure going for spain," but on search in her hold they could find only sugar and hides. they, therefore, let her go, and stood off again for the secret harbour. the next day they took some five or six small frigates, bound from santiago de tolu to cartagena, with ladings of "live hogs, hens, and maize, which we call guinea wheat." they examined the crews of these ships for news "of their preparations for us," and then dismissed them, reserving only two of the half-dozen prizes "because they were so well stored with good victuals." three days later they arrived at the hidden anchorage, which drake called port plenty, because of abundance of "good victuals" that they took while lying there. provision ships were passing continually, either to nombre de dios or cartagena, with food for the citizens or for the victualling of the plate fleets. "so that if we had been two thousand, yea, three thousand, persons, we might with our pinnaces easily have provided them sufficient victuals of wine, meal, rusk, cassavi (a kind of bread made of a root called yucca, whose juice is poison, but the substance good and wholesome), dried beef, dried fish, live sheep, live hogs, abundance of hens, besides the infinite store of dainty fresh fish, very easily to be taken every day." so much food was taken, that the company, under the direction of diego, the negro, were forced to build "four several magazines or storehouses, some ten, some twenty leagues asunder," on the main, or on the islands near it, for its storage. they intended to stay upon the coast until their voyage was "made," and, therefore, needed magazines of the kind for the future plenishing of their lazarettoes. we read that diego, the negro, was of special service to them in the building of these houses, for, like all the maroons, he was extremely skilful at the craft. they were probably huts of mud and wattle, thatched with palm leaves, "with a sort of door made of macaw-wood, and bamboes." from these magazines drake relieved two french ships "in extreme want"; while his men and their allies the cimmeroons lived at free quarters all the time they stayed there. while the captain had been cruising up the magdalena, his brother, john drake, had been westward along the coast with diego, "the negro aforesaid," in his pinnace. diego had landed on the coast to talk with "certain of the cimmeroons," who exchanged hostages with drake's party, and agreed upon a meeting-place at a little river midway between the cabezas, or "headlands," and the anchorage. drake talked with these hostages as soon as he arrived from the seas. he found them two "very sensible men," most ready to help him against the common enemy. they told him that "their nation conceited great joy of his arrivall"; for they had heard of nombre de dios and of his former raids upon the coast, and gladly welcomed the suggested alliance. their chief and tribe, they said, were encamped near the aforementioned little river, the rio diego, to await drake's decision. having compared the talk of these men with the reports he had gathered from the indian cowherds and spanish prisoners, he consulted his brother (who had seen the maroons at the rio diego camp), and asked "those of best service with him" what were fittest to be done. john drake advised that the ships should proceed to the westward, to the rio diego, for near the mouth of that stream he had discovered a choice hiding-place. it could be reached by many channels, but only by the most careful pilotage, for the channels were full of rocks and shoals. the channels twisted sluggishly among a multitude of islands, which were gorgeous with rhododendron shrubs, and alive with butterflies, blue and scarlet, that sunned themselves, in blots of colour, upon the heavy green leaves. among the blossomed branches there were parrots screaming, and the little hummingbirds, like flying jewels, darting from flower to flower. up above them the great trees towered, shutting out the sight of the sea, so that a dozen ships might have lain in that place without being observed from the open water. the description of this hiding-place moved drake to proceed thither at once with his two pinnaces, the two maroons, and his brother john, giving orders for the ship to follow the next morning. the pinnaces arrived there the next day, and found the cimmeroons encamped there, some of them at the river's mouth, the others "in a wood by the river's side." a solemn feast was prepared, at which the maroons gave "good testimonies of their joy and good will" towards the adventurers. after the feast, the tribe marched away to the rio guana, intending to meet with another tribe, at that time camped among the hills. the pinnaces returned from rio diego, wondering why the ship had not arrived, and anxious for her safety. they found her, on the th september, in the place where they had left her, "but in far other state," for a tempest had set her on her side, and sorely spoiled her trim, so that it took two days to repair the damage done. a pinnace was then despatched to the rio diego anchorage, to go "amongst the shoals and sandy places, to sound out the channel." on the th of september the _pascha_ was warily piloted to moorings, "with much ado to recover the road among so many flats and shoals." her berth was about five leagues from the cativaas, or catives, "betwixt an island and the main"--the island being about half-a-mile from the shore, some three acres in extent, "flat, and very full of trees and bushes." the anchors were hardly in the ground, when the friendly tribe of cimmeroons appeared upon the shore, with several others whom they had met in the mountains. they were all fetched aboard, "to their great comfort and our content," and a council was held forthwith. drake then asked the chiefs how they could help him to obtain some gold and silver. they replied that nothing could be done for another five months, because the autumn, the rainy season, was upon them, during which time no treasure would be moved from panama. had they known that he wanted gold, they said, they would have satisfied him, for they had taken a great store from the spaniards in a foray, and had flung it into the rivers, which were now too high for them to hope to recover it by diving. he must, therefore, wait, they said, till the rains had ceased in the coming march, when they could attack a treasure train together. the answer was a little unexpected, but not unpleasant, for drake was willing to remain on the coast for another year if need were. he at once resolved to build himself a fort upon the island, "for the planting of all our ordnance therein, and for our safeguard, if the enemy in all this time, should chance to come." the cimmeroons cut down a number of palmito boughs and branches, and soon had two large sheds built, both trim and watertight, for the housing of the company. the boats were then sent ashore to the main to bring over timber for the building of the fortress. this stronghold was built in the shape of a triangle, with a deep ditch all round it. [illustration: cartagena in , showing the double harbour the ship in the foreground may be drake's flagship, the _bonaventure_] the building was a full thirteen feet in height, built of tree boles from the main, with earth from the trench to take the place of mortar. the ship's guns were hoisted out of the ship and rafted over to the fortress, and there mounted at the embrasures. for platforms for the guns they used the planks of one of the frigates captured near cartagena. when the heavy work of lumber handling had been finished, but before the fort was ready for use, drake took john oxenham, with two of the pinnaces, upon a cruise to the east. he feared that a life of ease ashore would soon make his mariners discontented and eager to be home. it was, therefore, necessary to invent distractions for them. instead of going at once towards his quarry he sailed along leisurely, close to the coast, stopping a night at one little island for a feast on a kind of bird like spur-kites, the flesh of which was very delicate. he stopped another night at another island, because "of a great kind of shellfish of a foot long," which the company called whelks. as soon as these delectable islands had been left astern, the pinnaces "hauled off into the sea," across the bright, sunny water, blue and flashing, gleaming with the silver arrows of the flying-fish, in order to make the isles of san barnardo. they chased two frigates ashore before they came to moorings, after which they scrubbed and trimmed their boats, spent a day fishing from the rocks, and set sail again for santiago de tolu. here they landed in a garden, close to the city, to the delight of some indians who were working there. after bargaining together for the garden stuff the indians left their bows and arrows with the sailors while they ran to pluck "many sorts of dainty fruits and roots," such as the garden yielded. drake paid for the green stuff, and had it taken aboard, after inquiring strictly as to the state of the country and the plate fleets. the company then rowed away for cartagena, eating their "mellions and winter cherries" with a good appetite. they rowed through the boca chica, or little mouth, into the splendid harbour, where they set sail, "having the wind large," towards the inner haven and the city. they anchored "right over against the goodly garden island," where the fruit was a sore temptation to the seamen, who longed to rob the trees. drake would not allow them to land, for he feared an ambush, and, indeed, a few hours later, as they passed by the point of the island, they were fired at from the orchards with "a volley of a hundred shot," one of which wounded a sailor. there was little to be done in the harbour, so they put to sea again. they took a barque the next morning about six miles from the port. she was a ship of fifty tons, laden with soap and sweetmeats, bound from st domingo towards cartagena. she was armed with "swords, targets and some small shot, besides four iron bases." her captain and passengers had slipped ashore in the boat as soon as they had spied the pinnaces, but the captain's silken flag, woven in colours, with his coat-of-arms, had been left behind as a spoil. having sent her company ashore, "saving a young negro two or three years old, which we brought away," they sailed her into cartagena harbour, with the pinnaces towing astern. they anchored at the mouth of the inner haven to await events. during the afternoon the scrivano, or king's notary, aforementioned, rode down "to the point by the wood side" with a little troop of horsemen. the scrivano displayed a flag of truce, and came aboard, to worry drake with his oily lawyer's manner and elaborate, transparent lies. he promised to obtain fresh meat for him as a slight return for "his manifold favours, etc." but drake saw that it was but a plot of the governor's to keep him in the port till they could trap him. he thanked the supple liar, kept a good lookout throughout the night, and stood to sea as soon as the sun rose. he took two frigates the next day, just outside the harbour. they were small boats in ballast, one of twelve, one of fifty tons, bound for st domingo. he brought them to anchor in a bravery, "within saker shot of the east bulwark," and then dismissed their mariners ashore. on the st october, the morning after this adventure, the spaniards sent a flag of truce to the headland at the mouth of the boca chica. drake manned one of his pinnaces, and rowed ashore to see what they wanted. when about yards from the point the spaniards fled into the wood, as though afraid of the boat's guns--hoping, no doubt, that drake would follow, and allow them to ambush him. drake dropped his grapnel over the stern of the pinnace, and veered the boat ashore, little by little, till the bows grated on the sand. as she touched he leaped boldly ashore, in sight of the spanish troops, "to declare that he durst set his foot a land." the spaniards seem to have made a rush towards him, whereupon he got on board again, bade his men warp the boat out by the cable, and "rid awhile," some yards from the shore, in the smooth green water, watching the fish finning past the weeds. seeing that drake was less foolish than they had hoped, the spaniards came out upon the sands, at the edge of the wood, and bade one of their number take his clothes off, to swim to the boat with a message. the lad stripped, and swam off to the boat, "as with a message from the governor," asking them why they had come to the coast, and why they stayed there. drake replied that he had come to trade, "for he had tin, pewter, cloth, and other merchandise that they needed," with which reply the youth swam back to the soldiers. after some talk upon the sands, the men-at-arms sent him back with an answer. "the king," they said, "had forbidden them to traffic with any foreign nation, for any commodities, except powder and shot; of which, if he had any store, they would be his merchants." drake answered that he had come all the way from england to exchange his commodities for gold and silver, and had little will to return "without his errand." he told them that, in his opinion, they were "like to have little rest" if they would not traffic with him fairly in the way of business. he then gave the messenger "a fair shirt for a reward," and despatched him back to his masters. the lad rolled the shirt about his head in the indian fashion, and swam back "very speedily," using, perhaps, the swift indian stroke. he did not return that day, though drake waited for him until sunset, when the pinnace pulled slowly back to the two frigates, "within saker shot [or three-quarters of a mile] of the east bulwark." the adventurers lay there all that night, expecting to be attacked. the guns were loaded, and cartridges made ready, and a strict lookout was kept. at dawn they saw two sails running down towards them from the boca chica on a fresh easterly breeze. drake manned his two pinnaces, leaving the frigates empty, expecting to have a fight for their possession. before he came within gunshot of the spaniards he had to use his oars, for the wind fell, thereby lessening the advantage the spanish had. as the boats neared each other drake's mariners "saw many heads peeping over board" along the gunwales of the enemy. they perceived then that the two ships had been manned to occupy drake's attention, while another squadron made a dash from the town, "from the eastern bulwark," to retake his two prizes. but drake "prevented both their drifts." he bade john oxenham remain there with the one pinnace, "to entertain these two men of war," while he, with the other, rowed furiously back to the two prizes. quick as he had been the spaniards had been quicker. they had rowed out in a large canoe, which had made two trips, so that one frigate was now full of spaniards, who had cut her cables, while the canoe towed her towards the batteries. as drake ranged up alongside, the towline was cast adrift by the men in the canoe; while the gallants on the deck leaped overboard, to swim ashore, leaving their rapiers, guns, and powder flasks behind them. drake watched them swim out of danger, and then set the larger ship on fire. the smaller of the two he scuttled where she lay, "giving them to understand by this, that we perceived their secret practices." as soon as the frigates were disposed of, the pinnace returned to john oxenham, who was lying to by the two men-of-war, waiting for them to open fire. as the captain's pinnace drew near, the wind shifted to the north, and blew freshly, so that both the english boats, being to shoreward of the enemy, were forced to run before it, into the harbour, "to the great joy of the spaniards," who thought they were running away. directly they were past the point, "and felt smooth water," they obtained the weather-gage, exchanged a few shots, and dropped their anchors, keeping well to windward of the enemy. the spaniards also anchored; but as the wind freshened into "a norther" they thought it best to put ashore, and, therefore, retired to the town. for the next four days it blew very hard from the west, with cold rain squalls, to the great discomfort of all hands, who could keep neither warm nor dry. on the fifth day ( th october) a frigate came in from the sea, and they at once attacked her, hoping to find shelter aboard her after the four days of wet and cold. the spaniards ran her ashore on the point by the boca chica, "unhanging her rudder and taking away her sails, that she might not easily be carried away." however, the boats dashed alongside, intending to board her. as they came alongside, a company of horse and foot advanced on to the sands from the woods, opening fire on them as soon as they had formed. the pinnaces replied with their muskets and heavy guns, sending a shot "so near a brave cavalier" that the whole party retreated to the coverts. from the thick brush they were able to save the frigate from capture without danger to themselves; so drake abandoned her, and set to sea again, in the teeth of the gale, intending to win to las serenas, some rocks six miles to sea, off which he thought he could anchor, with his masts down, until the weather moderated. but when he arrived off the rocks, a mighty sea was beating over them, so that he had to run back to cartagena, where he remained six days, "notwithstanding the spaniards grieved greatly at our abode there so long." on the nd of november the governor of cartagena made a determined attempt to destroy him or drive him out to sea. he manned three vessels--"a great shallop, a fine gundeloe and a great canoe"--with spanish musketeers and indians with poisoned arrows. these attacked with no great spirit, for as soon as the pinnaces advanced they retreated, and presently "went ashore into the woods," from which an ambush "of some sixty shot" opened a smart fire. as the ambush began to blaze away from the bushes, drake saw that two pinnaces and a frigate, manned with musketeers and archers, were warping towards him from the town, in the teeth of the wind. as this second line of battle neared the scene of action, the spaniards left the ambush in the wood, and ran down the sands to the gundeloe and canoe, which they manned, and again thrust from the shore. drake then stood away into the haven, out of shot of the shore guns, and cast anchor in the great open space, with the two pinnaces lying close together, one immediately ahead of the other. he rigged the sides of the pinnaces with bonnets, the narrow lengths of canvas which were laced to the feet of sails to give them greater spread. with these for his close-fights, or war-girdles, he waved to the spaniards to attack. they rowed up cheering, all five boats of them, "assuring their fellows of the day." had they pushed the attack home, the issue might have been different, but the sight of the close-fights frightened them. they lay on their oars "at caliver-shot distance," and opened a smart musketry fire, "spending powder apace," without pausing, for two or three hours. one man was wounded on drake's side. the spanish loss could not be told, but drake's men could plainly see that the spanish pinnaces had been shot through and through. one lucky shot went into a spanish powder tub, which thereupon exploded. drake at once weighed anchor, intending to run them down while they were in confusion. he had the wind of them, and would have been able to do this without difficulty, but they did not wait his coming. they got to their oars in a hurry, and rowed to their defence in the woods--the fight being at an end before the frigate could warp to windward into action. being weary of these continual fruitless tussles, "and because our victuals grew scant," drake sailed from the port the following morning, in slightly better weather, hoping to get fresh provisions at the rio grande, where he had met with such abundance a few days before. the wind was still fresh from the west, so that he could not rejoin his ship nor reach one of his magazines. he took two days in sailing to the magdalena, but when he arrived there he found the country stripped. "we found bare nothing, not so much as any people left," for the spaniards had ordered everyone to retire to the hills, driving their cattle with them, "that we might not be relieved by them." the outlook was now serious, for there was very little food left, and that of most indifferent quality, much of it being spoiled by the rains and the salt water. on the day of their landfall they rowed hard for several hours to capture a frigate, but she was as bare of food as they. "she had neither meat nor money," and so "our great hope" was "converted into grief." sailors get used to living upon short allowance. the men tightened their belts to stay their hunger, and splashed salt water on their chests to allay their thirst. they ran for santa martha, a little city to the east, where they hoped "to find some shipping in the road, or limpets on the rocks, or succour against the storm in that good harbour." they found no shipping there, however, and little succour against the storm. they anchored "under the western point, where is high land," but they could not venture in, for the town was strongly fortified (later raiders were less squeamish). the spaniards had seen them come to moorings, and managed to send some thirty or forty musketeers among the rocks, within gunshot of them. these kept up a continual musket fire, which did bodily hurt to none, but proved a sad annoyance to sailors who were wearied and out of victuals. they found it impossible to reply to the musketry, for the rocks hid the musketeers from view. there was nothing for it but to "up kedge and cut," in the hope of finding some less troublous berth. as they worked across the santa martha bay the culverins in the city batteries opened fire. one shot "made a near escape," for it fell between the pinnaces as they lay together in "conference of what was best to be done." the company were inclined to bring the cruise to an end, and begged that they might "put themselves a land, some place to the eastward, to get victuals." they thought it would be better to trust to the courtesy of the country people than to keep the seas as they were, in the cold and heavy weather, with a couple of leaky, open boats. drake disliked this advice, and recommended that they should run on for rio de la hacha, or even as far as curaçoa, where they would be likely to meet with victual ships indifferently defended. the men aboard john oxenham's pinnace answered that they would willingly follow him throughout the world, but they did not see, they said, how the pinnaces could stand such weather as they had had. nor did they see how they were going to live with such little food aboard, for they had "only one gammon of bacon and thirty pounds of biscuit for eighteen men"--a bare two days' half allowance. drake replied that they were better off than he was, "who had but one gammon of bacon and forty pounds of biscuit for his twenty-four men; and therefore [he went on] he doubted not but they would take such part as he did, and willingly depend upon god's almighty providence, which never faileth them that trust in him." he did not wait for any further talk, but hoisted his fore-sail and put his helm up for curaçoa, knowing that the other pinnace would not refuse to follow him. with "sorrowful hearts in respect of the weak pinnace, yet desirous to follow their captain," the weary crew stood after him on the same course. they had not gone more than three leagues when, lo!--balm in gilead--"a sail plying to the westward" under her foresail and main-sail. there was "great joy" in that hunger-bitten company, who promptly "vowed together, that we would have her, or else it should cost us dear." coming up with her they found her to be a spanish ship of more than ninety tons. drake "waved amain" to her, the usual summons to surrender; but she "despised our summons," and at once opened fire on them, but without success, for the sea was running very high. the sea was too high for them to board her, so they set small storm-sails, and stood in chase, intending to "keep her company to her small content till fairer weather might lay the sea." they followed her for two hours, when "it pleased god" to send a great shower, which, of course, beat down the sea into "a reasonable calm," so that they could pepper her with their guns "and approach her at pleasure." she made but a slight resistance after that, and "in short time we had taken her; finding her laden with victuals well powdered [salted] and dried: which at that present we received as sent us of god's great mercy." [illustration: an elizabethan war-ship a pinnace beyond, to the left] after a stormy night at sea, drake sent ellis hixom, "who had then charge of his pinnace, to search out some harbour along the coast." hixom soon discovered a little bay, where there was good holding ground, with sufficient depth of water to float the prize. they entered the new port, and dropped their anchors there, promising the spaniards their clothes, as well as their liberty, if they would but bring them to a clear spring of water and a supply of fresh meat. the spaniards, who knew the coast very well, soon brought them to an indian village, where the natives "were clothed and governed by a spaniard." they stayed there all the day, cutting wood for their fire, filling water casks, and storing the purchased meat. the indians helped them with all their might, for drake, following his custom, gave them "content and satisfaction" for the work they did for him. towards night drake called his men aboard, leaving the spanish prisoners ashore, according to his promise, "to their great content." the wood, water casks, and sides of meat were duly stored, the anchors were brought to the bows, and the adventurers put to sea again towards the secret harbour. that day one of their men died from "a sickness which had begun to kindle among us, two or three days before." what the cause of this malady was "we knew not of certainty," but "we imputed it to the cold which our men had taken, lying without succour in the pinnaces." it may have been pleurisy, or pneumonia, or some low fever. the dead man was charles glub, "one of our quarter masters, a very tall man, and a right good mariner, taken away to the great grief of captain and company"--a sufficiently beautiful epitaph for any man. "but howsoever it was," runs the touching account, "thus it pleased god to visit us, and yet in favour to restore unto health all the rest of our company that were touched with this disease, which were not a few." the th of november broke bright and fine, though the wind still blew from the west. drake ordered the _minion_, the smaller of his two pinnaces, to part company, "to hasten away before him towards his ships at port diego ... to carry news of his coming, and to put all things in a readiness for our land journey if they heard anything of the fleet's arrival." if they wanted wine, he said, they had better put in at san barnardo, and empty some of the caches in the sand there, where they had buried many bottles. seven days later drake put in at san barnardo for the same commodity, "finding but twelve _botijos_ of wine of all the store we left, which had escaped the curious search of the enemy who had been there, for they were deep in the ground." perhaps the crew of the _minion_ were the guilty ones. about the th of november the captain's party arrived at port diego, where they found all things in good order, "but received very heavy news of the death of john drake, our captain's brother, and another young man called richard allen, which were both slain at one time [on the th october, the day drake left the isle of shell-fish] as they attempted the boarding of a frigate." drake had been deeply attached to this brother, whom he looked upon as a "young man of great hope." his death was a sore blow to him, all the more because it happened in his absence, when he could neither warn him of the risks he ran nor comfort him as he lay a-dying. he had been in the pinnace, it seems, with a cargo of planks from the spanish wreck, carrying the timber for the platform of the battery. it was a bright, sunny morning, and the men were rowing lazily towards the fort, "when they saw this frigate at sea." the men were in merry heart, and eager for a game at handystrokes. they were "very importunate on him, to give chase and set upon this frigate, which they deemed had been a fit booty for them." he told them that they "wanted weapons to assail"; that, for all they knew, the frigate might be full of men and guns; and that their boat was cumbered up with planks, required for his brother's service. these answers were not enough for them, and "still they urged him with words and supposals." "if you will needs," said he;--"adventure. it shall never be said that i will be hindmost, neither shall you report to my brother that you lost your voyage by any cowardice you found in me." the men armed themselves as they could with stretchers from the boat, or anything that came to hand. they hove the planks overboard to make a clear fighting space, and "took them such poor weapons as they had: viz., a broken pointed rapier, one old visgee, and a rusty caliver. john drake took the rapier and made a gauntlet of his pillow, richard allen the visgee, both standing at the head of the pinnace called eion. robert took the caliver, and so boarded." it was a gallant, mad attempt, but utterly hopeless from the first. the frigate was "armed round about with a close fight of hides," and "full of pikes and calivers, which were discharged in their faces, and deadly wounded those that were in the fore ship, john drake in the belly, and richard allen in the head." though they were both sorely hurt, they shoved the pinnace clear with their oars, and so left the frigate, and hurried home to their ship, where "within an hour after" this young man of great hope ended his days, "greatly lamented of all the company." he was buried in that place, with richard allen his shipmate, among the brilliant shrubs, over which the parrots chatter. for the next four or five weeks the company remained at fort diego with the maroons, their allies. they fared sumptuously every day on the food stored within the magazine; while "daily out of the woods" they took wild hogs, the "very good sort of a beast called warre," that dampier ate, besides great store of turkeys, pheasants, and numberless guanas, "which make very good broath." the men were in good health, and well contented; but a day or two after the new year (january ) "half a score of our company fell down sick together, and the most of them died within two or three days." they did not know what the sickness was, nor do they leave us much information to enable us to diagnose it. they called it a calenture, or fever, and attributed it to "the sudden change from cold to heat, or by reason of brackish water which had been taken in by our pinnace, through the sloth of their men in the mouth of the river, not rowing further in where the water was good." we cannot wonder that they died from drinking the water of that sluggish tropical river, for in the rainy season such water is often poisonous to the fish in the sea some half-a-mile from the shore. it comes down from the hills thick with pestilential matter. it sweeps away the rotting leaves and branches, the dead and drowned animals, from the flooded woods and savannahs. "and i believe," says dampier, "it receives a strong tincture from the roots of several kind of trees, herbs, etc., and especially where there is any stagnancy of the water, it soon corrupts; and possibly the serpents and other poisonous vermin and insects may not a little contribute to its bad qualities." whatever it was, the disease raged among the men with great violence--as many as thirty being down with it at the one time. among those who died was joseph drake, another brother of the captain, "who died in our captain's arms." the many deaths caused something like a panic among the men, and drake, in his distress, determined to hold a post-mortem upon his brother's corpse "that the cause [of the disease] might be the better discerned, and consequently remedied." the operation was performed by the surgeon, "who found his liver swollen, his heart as it were sodden, and his guts all fair." the corpse of one dead from yellow-fever displays very similar symptoms; and the muddy foreshore on which they were camped would, doubtless, swarm with the yellow-fever mosquito. the sick seem to have recovered swiftly--a trait observable in yellow-fever patients. this, says the narrative, "was the first and last experiment that our captain made of anatomy in this voyage." the surgeon who made this examination "over-lived him not past four days"--a fact which very possibly saved the lives of half the company. he had had the sickness at its first beginning among them, but had recovered. he died, we are told, "of an overbold practice which he would needs make upon himself, by receiving an over-strong purgation of his own device, after which taken he never spake; nor his boy recovered the health which he lost by tasting it, till he saw england." he seems to have taken the draught directly after the operation, as a remedy against infection from the corpse. the boy, who, perhaps, acted as assistant at the operation, may have thought it necessary to drink his master's heeltaps by way of safeguard. while the company lay thus fever-stricken at the fort, the maroons had been wandering abroad among the forest, ranging the country up and down "between nombre de dios and us, to learn what they might for us." during the last few days of january they came in with the news that the plate fleet "had certainly arrived in nombre de dios." on the th of january, therefore, drake ordered the _lion_, one of the three pinnaces, to proceed "to the seamost islands of the cativaas," a few miles from the fort, to "descry the truth of the report" by observing whether many frigates were going towards nombre de dios from the east, as with provisions for the fleet. the _lion_ remained at sea for a few days, when she captured a frigate laden with "maize, hens, and pompions from tolu." she had the scrivano of tolu aboard her, with eleven men and one woman. from these they learned that the fleet was certainly at nombre de dios, as the indians had informed them. the prisoners were "used very courteously," and "diligently guarded from the deadly hatred of the cimmeroons," who used every means in their power to obtain them from the english, so that "they might cut their throats to revenge their wrongs and injuries." drake warned his allies not to touch them "or give them ill countenance"; but, feeling a little doubtful of their safety, he placed them aboard the spanish prize, in charge of ellis hixom, and had the ship hauled ashore to the island, "which we termed slaughter island (because so many of our men died there)." he was about to start upon "his journey for panama by land," and he could not follow his usual custom of letting his prisoners go free. chapter iv the road to panama the maroons--the native city--the great tree--panama--the silver train--the failure--venta cruz when the spanish prize had been warped to her berth at slaughter island, drake called his men together, with the chiefs of the maroons, to a solemn council of war about the fire. he then discussed with them, with his usual care, the equipment necessary for an undertaking of the kind in hand. he was going to cross the isthmus with them, those " leagues of death and misery," in order to surprise one of the recuas, or treasure trains, as it wandered north upon the road from panama to nombre de dios. it was, as he says, "a great and long journey," through jungles, across swamps, and up precipitous crags. any error in equipment would be paid for in blood. it was essential, therefore, that they should strictly debate "what kind of weapons, what store of victuals, and what manner of apparel" would be fittest for them. the maroons "especially advised" him "to carry as great store of shoes as possibly he might, by reason of so many rivers with stone and gravel as they were to pass." this advice was followed by all hands, who provided themselves with a good store of boots and spare leather, thereby saving themselves from much annoyance from jiguas, or jiggers, and the venomous leeches of the swamps. the sickness had destroyed twenty-eight of the company. three had died of wounds or in battle, and one had died from cold and exposure in the pinnace. of the remaining forty-two drake selected eighteen of the best. a number were still ill abed, and these he left behind in the care of ellis hixom and his little band of shipkeepers. the dried meat and biscuit were then packed carefully into bundles. the eighteen took their weapons, with such necessaries as they thought they might require. drake called hixom aside, and gave him "straight charge, in any case not to trust any messenger that should come in his name with any tokens, unless he brought his handwriting: which he knew could not be counterfeited by the cimaroons or spaniards." a last farewell was taken; thirty brawny cimmeroons swung the packs upon their shoulders, shaking their javelins in salute. the shipkeepers sounded "a loath to depart," and dipped their colours. the forty-eight adventurers then formed into order, and marched away into the forest on their perilous journey. having such stalwart carriers, the english were able to march light, "not troubled with anything but our furniture." the maroons carried "every one of them two sorts of arrows" in addition to the packs of victuals, for they had promised to provide fresh food upon the march for all the company. "every day we were marching by sun-rising," says the narrative, taking the cool of the morning before the sun was hot. at "ten in the forenoon" a halt was called for dinner, which they ate in quiet "ever near some river." this halt lasted until after twelve. then they marched again till four, at which time they sought out a river-bank for their camping ground. often they slept in old huts built by the indians "when they travelled through these woods," but more frequently the maroons built them new ones, having a strange skill in that craft. then they would light little fires of wood inside the huts, giving a clear red glow, with just sufficient smoke to keep away mosquitoes. they would sup pleasantly together there, snugly sheltered from the rain if any fell; warm if it were cold, as on the hills; and cool if it were hot, as in the jungle. when the indians had lit their little "light wood" candles these huts must have been delightful places, full of jolly talk and merry music. outside, by the river-brink, the frogs would croak; and, perhaps, the adventurers heard "the shriekings of snakes and other insects," such as scared lionel wafer there about a century later. those who ventured out into the night were perplexed by the innumerable multitude of fireflies that spangled the darkness with their golden sparks. in the mornings the brilliant blue and green macaws aroused them with their guttural cries "like men who speak much in the throat." the chicaly bird began his musical quick cuckoo cry, the corrosou tolled out his bell notes, the "waggish kinds of monkeys" screamed and chattered in the branches, playing "a thousand antick tricks." then the sun came up in his splendour above the living wall of greenery, and the men buckled on their gear, and fell in for the road. as they marched, they sometimes met with droves of peccary or warree. then six maroons would lay their burdens down, and make a slaughter of them, bringing away as much of the dainty wild pork as they could carry. always they had an abundance of fresh fruit, such as "mammeas" ("very wholesome and delicious"), "guavas, palmitos, pinos, oranges, lemons and divers others." then there were others which were eaten "first dry roasted," as "plantains, potatoes, and such like," besides bananas and the delicious sapadilloes. on one occasion "the cimaroons found an otter, and prepared it to be drest: our captain marvelling at it. pedro, our chief cimaroon, asked him, "are you a man of war, and in want; and yet doubt whether this be meat, that hath blood? herewithal [we read] our captain rebuked himself secretly, that he had so slightly considered of it before." after three days' wandering in the woods the maroons brought them to a trim little maroon town, which was built on the side of a hill by a pretty river. it was surrounded by "a dyke of eight feet broad, and a thick mud wall of ten feet high, sufficient to stop a sudden surpriser. it had one long and broad street, lying east and west, and two other cross streets of less breadth and length," containing in all some "five or six and fifty households." it was "kept so clean and sweet, that not only the houses, but the very streets were pleasant to behold"--a thing, doubtless, marvellous to one accustomed to an elizabethan english town. "in this town we saw they lived very civilly and cleanly," for, as soon as the company marched in, the thirty carriers "washed themselves in the river and changed their apparel," which was "very fine and fitly made," after the spanish cut. the clothes, by all accounts, were only worn on state occasions. they were long cotton gowns, either white or rusty black, "shap'd like our carter's frocks." the town was thirty-five leagues from nombre de dios and forty-five from panama. it had been surprised the year before drake came there ( ) by spanish troops under "a gallant gentleman," who had been guided thither by a recreant maroon. he attacked a little before the dawn, and cut down many women and children, but failed to prevent the escape of nearly all the men. in a little while they rallied, and attacked the spaniards with great fury, killing their guide and four-fifths of their company. the wretched remnant straggled back as best they could "to return answer to them which sent them." the natives living there at the time of drake's visit kept a continual watch some three miles from the town, to prevent a second surprise. any spaniards whom they met they "killed like beasts." the adventurers passed a night in the town, and stayed until noon of the day following. the maroons told them stories of their battles with the spaniards, while drake inquired into "their affection in religion." he learned that they had no kind of priests; "only they held the cross in great reputation"--having, perhaps, learned so much of christianity from the spaniards. drake seems to have done a little earnest missionary work, for he persuaded them "to leave their crosses, and to learn the lord's prayer, and to be instructed in some measure concerning god's true worship." after dinner on the th of february the company took to the roads again, refusing to take any of the countless recruits who offered their services. four maroons went on ahead to mark a trail by breaking branches or flinging a bunch of leaves upon the ground. after these four, marched twelve more maroons as a sort of vanguard. then came drake with his men and the two maroon chiefs. another troop of twelve maroons brought up the rear. the maroons marched in strict silence, "which they also required us to keep," for it is the custom among nearly all savage folk to remain silent on the trail. the way now led them through parts less swampy, and, therefore, less densely tangled over than those nearer the "north sea." "all the way was through woods very cool and pleasant," says the narrative, "by reason of those goodly and high trees, that grow there so thick." they were mounting by slow degrees to the "ridge between the two seas," and the woodland was getting clear of undergrowth. as later buccaneers have noted, the upper land of the isthmus is wooded with vast trees, whose branches shut out the sun. beneath these trees a man may walk with pleasure, or indeed ride, for there is hardly any undergrowth. the branches are so thick together that the lower ground receives no sunlight, and, therefore, little grows there. the heat of the sun is shut out, and "it is cooler travelling there ... in that hot region, than it is in ... england in the summer time." as the men began to ascend, the maroons told them that not far away there grew a great tree about midway between the oceans, "from which we might at once discern the north sea from whence we came, and the south sea whither we were going." on the th of february, after four days of slow but steady climbing, they "came to the height of the desired hill, a very high hill, lying east and west, like a ridge between the two seas." it was ten o'clock in the forenoon, the hour at which the dinner halt was made. pedro, the maroon chief, now took drake's hand, and "prayed him to follow him if he was desirous to see at once the two seas which he had so longed for." drake followed pedro to the hilltop, to the "goodly and great high tree," of which the maroons had spoken. he found that they had hacked out steps upon the bole, "to ascend up near unto the top," where they had built a pleasant little hut of branches thatched from the sun, "wherein ten or twelve men might easily sit." "south and north of this tree" the maroons had felled certain trees "that the prospect might be the clearer." at its base there was a number of strong houses "that had been built long before," perhaps by an older people than the cimmeroons. the tree seems to have been a place of much resort among that people, as it lay in their paths across the isthmus, and towards the west. drake climbed the tree with pedro to the little sunny bower at the top. a fresh breeze which was blowing, had blown away the mists and the heat haze, so that the whole isthmus lay exposed before him, in the golden sunlight. there to the north, like a bright blue jewel, was "the atlantic ocean whence now we came." there to the south, some thirty miles away, was "that sea of which he had heard such golden reports." he looked at the wonderful south sea, and "besought almighty god of his goodness, to give him life and leave to sail once in an english ship, in that sea." the prayer was granted to him, for in five years' time he was off that very coast with such a spoil as no ship ever took before. having glutted his eyes with the sight, drake called up all his english followers, and "acquainted john oxenham especially with this his petition and purpose, if it would please god to grant him that happiness." oxenham answered fervently that "unless our captain did beat him from his company, he would follow him, by god's grace." he fulfilled his vow a few months later, with disaster to himself and his associates. "thoroughly satisfied with the sight of the seas," the men descended to their dinner with excellent appetite. they then pushed on lightly as before, through continual forest, for another two days. on the th of february, when they had gained the west side of the cheapo river, the forest broke away into little knots of trees green and goodly, which showed like islands in a rolling ocean of green grass. they were come to the famous savannahs, over which roamed herds of black cattle, swift and savage. everywhere about them was the wiry stipa grass, and "a kind of grass with a stalk as big as a great wheaten reed, which hath a blade issuing from the top of it, on which though the cattle feed, yet it groweth every day higher, until the top be too high for an ox to reach." the inhabitants of the country were wont to burn the grass every year, but "after it is thus burnt" it "springeth up fresh like green corn" within three days. "such," says the narrative, "is the great fruitfulness of the soil: by reason of the evenness of the day and the night, and the rich dews which fall every morning." as the raiders advanced along this glorious grass-land they sometimes caught sight of panama. whenever they topped a rise they could see the city, though very far away; and at last, "on the last day," they saw the ships riding in the road, with the blue pacific trembling away into the sky beyond them. now was the woodcock near the gin, and now the raiders had to watch their steps. there was no cover on those rolling sweeps of grass. they were within a day's journey of the city. the grass-land (as drake gathered from his guides) was a favourite hunting-ground of the city poulterers, for there, as drake puts it, "the dames of panama are wont to send forth hunters and fowlers, for taking of sundry dainty fowl, which the land yieldeth." such a body of men as theirs might readily be detected by one of these sportsmen, and one such detection would surely ruin the attempt. they therefore, crept like snakes "out of all ordinary way," worming themselves through the grass-clumps till they came to a little river-bed, in which a trickle of water ran slowly across the sun-bleached pebbles. they were minded to reach a grove or wood about a league from panama. the sun beat upon them fiercely, and it was necessary for them to travel in the heat of the day. in that open country the midday heat was intense, but they contrived to gain the shelter of the wood by three that afternoon. "this last day," says the narrative, "our captain did behold and view the most of all that fair city, discerning the large street which lieth directly from the sea into the land, south and north." having gained the shelter of the wood, drake chose out a maroon "that had served a master in panama" to venture into the city as a spy. he dressed the man "in such apparel as the negroes of panama do use to wear," and sent him off to the town an hour before night, "so that by the closing in of the evening he might be in the city." he gave the man strict charge to find out "the certain night, and the time of the night, when the carriers laded the treasure from the king's treasure house to nombre de dios." the first stage of the journey (from panama to venta cruz) was always undertaken in the cool of the night, "because the country is all champion, and consequently by day very hot." from venta cruz to nombre de dios "they travel always by day and not by night, because all that way is full of woods and therefore very cool." drake's plan was to waylay one of the treasure trains on the night journey towards venta cruz. the maroon soon returned to the little wood where the men were lying. he had entered the town without trouble, and had met with some old companions, who had told him all he wished to know. a treasure train was to start that very night, for a great spanish gentleman, the treasurer of lima, "was intending to pass into spain" in a swift advice ship which stayed for him at nombre de dios. "his daughter and family" were coming with him, "having fourteen mules in company, of which eight were laden with gold, and one with jewels." after this troop, two other recuas, "of fifty mules in each," would take the road, carrying victuals and wine for the fleet, "with some little quantity of silver." as soon as the news had been conveyed to drake, he marched his men away from panama towards venta cruz, some four leagues' journey. he halted them about two leagues to the south of venta cruz, in a clump of tall grass, and then examined a spanish prisoner whom his scouts had caught. two of the maroons, stealing forward along the line of march, had scented the acrid smoke of a burning match carried by some arquebusier. they had crept up "by scent of the said match," and had heard a sound of snoring coming from the grass by the roadside. a spanish sentry had fallen asleep upon his post, "and being but one they fell upon him, stopped his mouth from crying, put out his match," and bound him so effectually "that they well near strangled him." he was in the pay of the king's treasurer, who had hired him, with others, to guard the treasure train upon its march from venta cruz. he had fallen asleep while waiting for the mules to arrive, as he knew that he would get no sleep until the company he marched with was safe in nombre de dios. he was in terror of his life, for he believed that he had fallen into the hands of the maroons, from whom he might expect no mercy. when he learned that he was a prisoner to francis drake he plucked up courage, "and was bold to make two requests unto him." first, he asked that drake would order the maroons to spare his life, for he knew that they "hated the spaniards, especially the soldiers, extremely," but a word from such a captain would be enough to save him. the second request was also personal. he assured them, upon the faith of a soldier, that "they should have that night more gold, besides jewels, and pearls of great price, than all they could carry"; if not, he swore, let them deal with him as they would. but, he added, if the raiders are successful, "then it might please our captain to give unto him, as much as might suffice for him and his mistress to live upon, as he had heard our captain had done to divers others"--promising, in such a case, to make his name as famous as any of them which had received the like favour. being now "at the place appointed" drake divided his men into two companies. with eight englishmen and fifteen cimmeroons he marched to some long grass about fifty paces from the road. he sent john oxenham, with pedro and the other company of men, to the other side of the road, at the same distance from it, but a little farther to the south, in order that, "as occasion served, the former company might take the foremost mules by the heads," while oxenham's party did that service for those which followed. the arrangement also provided "that if we should have need to use our weapons that night, we might be sure not to endamage our fellows." having reached their stations, the men lay down to wait, keeping as quiet as they could. in about an hour's time they heard the clanging of many mule bells, making a loud music, in the direction of venta cruz. mules were returning from that town to panama; for with the fleet at nombre de dios there was much business between the two seaports, and the mule trains were going and coming several times a day. as they listened, they heard more mule bells ringing far away on the road from panama. the treasurer with his company was coming. now, drake had given strict orders that no man should show himself, or as much as budge from his station, "but let all that came from venta cruz [which was nothing but merchandise] to pass quietly." yet one of the men, probably one of oxenham's men, of the name of robert pike, now disobeyed those orders. "having drunken too much aqua-vitæ without water," he forgot himself. he rose from his place in the grass, "enticing a cimaroon with him," and crept up close to the road, "with intent to have shown his forwardness on the foremost mules." almost immediately a cavalier came trotting past from venta cruz upon a fine horse, with a little page running at the stirrup. as he trotted by, robert pike "rose up to see what he was." the cimmeroon promptly pulled him down, and sat upon him; but his promptness came too late to save the situation. all the english had put their shirts over their other apparel, "that we might be sure to know our own men in the pell mell in the night." the spanish cavalier had glanced in robert pike's direction, and had seen a figure rising from the grass "half all in white" and very conspicuous. he had heard of drake's being on the coast, and at once came to the conclusion that that arch-pirate had found his way through the woods to reward himself for his disappointment at nombre de dios. he was evidently a man of great presence of mind. he put spurs to his horse, and galloped off down the road, partly to escape the danger, but partly also to warn the treasure train, the bells of which were now clanging loudly at a little distance from the ambuscade. drake heard the trotting horse's hoofs clatter out into a furious gallop. he suspected that he had been discovered, "but could not imagine by whose fault, neither did the time give him the leasure to search." it was a still night, and he had heard no noise, yet something had startled the cavalier. earnestly hoping that the rider had been alarmed by the silence of the night and the well-known danger of the road, he lay down among the grass again to wait for the mules to come. the bells clanged nearer and nearer, till at last the mules were trotting past the ambush. the captains blew their whistles to the attack. the raiders rose from the grass-clumps with a cheer. there was a rush across the narrow trackway at the drivers, the mules were seized, and in a moment, two full recuas were in the raiders' hands. so far all had gone merrily. the sailors turned to loot the mule packs, congratulating themselves upon their glorious good fortune. it must have been a strange scene to witness--the mules scared and savage, the jolly seamen laughing as they pulled the packs away, the maroons grinning and chattering, and the harness and the bells jingling out a music to the night. as the packs were ripped open a mutter of disappointment began to sound among the ranks of the spoilers. pack after pack was found to consist of merchandise--vicuna wool, or dried provender for the galleons. the amount of silver found amounted to a bare two horse loads. gold there was none. the jewels of the king's treasurer were not to be discovered. the angry sailors turned upon the muleteers for an explanation. the chief muleteer, "a very sensible fellow," was taken to drake, who soon learned from him the reason why the catch was so poor. the cavalier who had noticed robert pike was the saviour of the treasure. as soon as the figure half all in white had risen ghost-like by the road, he had galloped to the treasure mules to report what he had seen to the treasurer. the thing he had seen was vague, but it was yet too unusual to pass unnoticed. drake, he said, was a person of devilish resource, and it was highly probable, he thought, that the pirates had come "in covert through the woods" to recoup themselves for their former disappointments. a white shirt was the usual uniform for men engaged in night attacks. no maroon would wear such a thing in that locality, and, therefore, it would be well to let the food train pass ahead of the treasure. the loss of the food train would be a little matter, while it would surely show them whether an ambush lay in wait or not. the treasurer had accordingly drawn his company aside to allow the food mules to get ahead of him. as soon as the noise upon the road advised him that the enemy had made their spring, he withdrew quietly towards panama. "thus," says the narrative, "we were disappointed of a most rich booty: which is to be though god would not should be taken, for that, by all likelihood, it was well gotten by that treasurer." we are not told what happened to robert pike, but it is probable that he had a bad five minutes when the muleteer's story reached the sailors. it was bad enough to have marched all day under a broiling sun, and to lose a royal fortune at the end; but that was not all, nor nearly all: they were now discovered to the enemy, who lay in considerable force in their front and rear. they were wearied out with marching, yet they knew very well that unless they "shifted for themselves betimes" all the spaniards of panama would be upon them. they had a bare two or three hours' grace in which to secure themselves. they had marched four leagues that night, and by marching back those same four leagues they might win to cover by the morning. if they marched forward they might gain the forest in two leagues; but venta cruz lay in the road, and venta cruz was guarded day and night by a company of spanish troops. to reach the forest by the latter road they would have to make a way with their swords, but with men so tired and out of heart it seemed the likelier route of the two. it was better, drake thought, "to encounter his enemies while he had strength remaining, than to be encountered or chased when they should be worn out with weariness." he bade all hands to eat and drink from the provisions found upon the mules, and while they took their supper he told them what he had resolved to do. he called upon pedro, the maroon, by name, asking "whether he would give his hand not to forsake him." pedro swore that he would rather die at his feet than desert him in such a pass--a vow which assured drake of the loyalty of his allies. as soon as supper was over, he bade the men mount upon the mules, so that they might not weary themselves with marching. an hour's trot brought them to the woods within a mile of venta cruz, where they dismounted, and went afoot, after bidding the muleteers not to follow if they cared for whole skins. the road was here some ten or twelve feet broad, "so as two recuas may pass one by another." it was paved with cobbles, which had been beaten into the mud by indian slaves. on either side of it was the dense tropical forest, "as thick as our thickest hedges in england that are oftenest cut." among the tangle, about half-a-mile from the town, the spaniards had taken up a strong position. the town guard of musketeers had been reinforced by a number of friars from a religious house. they lay there, hidden in the jungle, blowing their matches to keep them burning clearly. two maroons, whom drake had sent forward as scouts, crept back to him with the news that the enemy were there in force, for they had smelt the reek of the smouldering matches and heard the hushed noise of many men moving in the scrub. drake gave orders that no man should fire till the spaniards had given them a volley, for he thought they would first parley with him, "as indeed fell out." soon afterwards, as the men neared the spanish ambush, a spanish captain rose from the road, and "cried out, hoo!" drake answered with, "hallo!"--the sailor's reply to a hail. the spaniard then put the query "que gente?" to which drake answered "englishmen." the spaniard, "in the name of the king of spain his master," then charged him to surrender, passing his word as a gentleman soldier that the whole company should be treated courteously. drake made a few quick steps towards the spaniard, crying out that "for the honour of the queen of england, his mistress, he must have passage that way." as he advanced, he fired his pistol towards him, in order to draw the spanish fire. immediately the thicket burst out into flame; for the ambush took the shot for a signal, and fired off their whole volley. drake received several hail-shot in his body. many of the men were wounded, and one man fell sorely hurt. as the volley crackled out its last few shots, drake blew his whistle, as a signal to his men to fire. a volley of shot and arrows was fired into the thicket, and the company at once advanced, "with intent to come to handy strokes." as they stormed forward to the thicket, the spaniards fled towards a position of greater strength. drake called upon his men to double forward to prevent them. the maroons at once rushed to the front, "with their arrows ready in their bows, and their manner of country dance or leap, singing yó péhó! yó péhó, and so got before us where they continued their leap and song after the manner of their own country wars." the spaniards heard the war-cry ringing out behind them, and fell back rapidly upon the town. near the town's end a party of them rallied, forming a sort of rearguard to cover the retreat. as they took up a position in the woods, the maroons charged them upon both flanks, while the english rushed their centre. there was a mad moment of fighting in the scrub. a maroon went down with a pike through the body; but he contrived to kill the pikeman before he died. several englishmen were hurt. the spaniards' loss is not mentioned, but it was probably severe. they broke and fled before the fury of the attack, and the whole body of fighting men, "friars and all," were thrust back into the town by the raiders. as they ran, the raiders pressed them home, shouting and slaying. the gates were open. the spanish never had another chance to rally, and the town was taken with a rush a very few minutes after the captain's challenge in the wood. venta cruz venta cruz, the modern cruces, stood, and still stands, on the west or left bank of the chagres river. it marks the highest point to which boats may penetrate from the north sea. right opposite the town the river broadens out to a considerable width, affording berths for a number of vessels of slight draught. at the time of drake's raid it was a place of much importance. the land route from panama to nombre de dios was, as we have said, boggy, dangerous, and pestilential. the freight charges for mule transport across the isthmus were excessive, ranging from twenty-five to thirty dollars of assayed silver for a mule load of pounds weight--a charge which works out at nearly £ a ton. even in the dry season the roads were bad, and the mule trains were never safe from the maroons. many merchants, therefore, sent their goods to venta cruz in flat-bottomed boats of about fifteen tons. these would sail from nombre de dios to the mouth of the chagres river, where they struck sail, and took to their sweeps. the current was not very violent except in the upper reaches, and the boats were generally able to gain venta cruz in a few days--in about three days in dry weather and about twelve in the rains. a towing-path was advocated at one time; but it does not seem to have been laid, though the river-banks are in many places flat and sandy, and free from the dense undergrowth of the tropics. as soon as the boats arrived at venta cruz they were dragged alongside the jetty on the river-bank, and their cargoes were transferred to some strong stone warehouses. in due course the goods were packed on mules, and driven away down the road to panama, a distance of some fifteen or eighteen miles, which the mules would cover in about eight hours. the town at the time of drake's raid contained about forty or fifty houses, some of them handsome stone structures decorated with carven work. the river-bank was covered with a great many warehouses, and there were several official buildings, handsome enough, for the governor and the king's officers. there was a monastery full of friars, "where we found above a thousand bulls and pardons, newly sent from rome." perhaps there was also some sort of a barrack for the troops. the only church was the great church of the monastery. the town was not fortified, but the houses made a sort of hedge around it; and there were but two entrances--the one from the forest, by which drake's party entered; the other leading over a pontoon bridge towards the hilly woods beyond the chagres. attached to the monastery, and tended by the monks and their servants, was a sort of sanatorium and lying-in hospital. nombre de dios was so unhealthy, so full of malaria and yellow fever, "that no spaniard or white woman" could ever be delivered there without the loss of the child on the second or third day. it was the custom of the matrons of nombre de dios to proceed to venta cruz or to panama to give birth to their children. the babes were left in the place where they were born, in the care of the friars, until they were five or six years old. they were then brought to nombre de dios, where "if they escaped sickness the first or second month, they commonly lived in it as healthily as in any other place." life in venta cruz must have been far from pleasant. the maroons were a continual menace, but the town was too well guarded, and too close to panama, for them to put the place in serious danger. the inhabitants had to keep within the township; for the forest lay just beyond the houses, and lonely wanderers were certain to be stabbed by lurking maroons or carried off by jaguars. in the season the mule trains were continually coming and going, either along the swampy track to nombre de dios or from nombre de dios to panama. boats came sleepily up the chagres to drop their anchors by the jetty, with news from the old world and the commodities which the new world did not yield. it must, then, have been one of the most eventful places in the uncomfortable isthmus; but no place can be very pleasant which has an annual rainfall of inches and a mean annual temperature of about °. the country adjacent is indescribably beautiful; the river is clear and brilliant; the woods are gorgeous with many-coloured blossoms, and with birds and butterflies that gleam in green and blue among the leaves. during the rains the river sometimes rises forty feet in a night, and sweeps into the town with masses of rotting verdure from the hills. there is always fever in the place, but in the rainy season it is more virulent than in the dry. at present the town has few white inhabitants. the fair stone houses which drake saw are long since gone, having been destroyed in one of the buccaneering raids a century later. the modern town is a mere collection of dirty huts, inhabited by negroes, half-breeds, and indians. chapter v back to the main body the treasure train--the spoil--captain tetû hurt as soon as the town was in his hands, drake set guards on the bridge across the chagres and at the gate by which he had entered the town. he gave orders to the maroons that they were not to molest women or unarmed men. he gave them free permission to take what they would from the stores and houses, and then went in person to comfort some gentlewomen "which had lately been delivered of children there." they were in terror of their lives, for they had heard the shouts and firing, and had thought that the maroons were coming. they refused to listen to the various comforters whom drake had sent to them, and "never ceased most earnestly entreating" that drake himself would come to them. drake succeeded in reassuring them that nothing "to the worth of a garter" would be taken from them. they then dried their tears, and were comforted. the raiders stayed in the town about an hour and a half, during which time they succeeded in getting together a little comfortable dew of heaven--not gold, indeed, nor silver, but yet "good pillage." drake allowed them this latitude so that they might not be cast down by the disappointment of the night. he gave orders, however, that no heavy loot should be carried from the town, because they had yet many miles to go, and were still in danger of attack. while the men were getting their spoils together, ready for marching, and eating a hasty breakfast in the early morning light, a sudden fusillade began at the panama gate. some ten or twelve cavaliers had galloped in from panama, supposing that the pirates had left the town. they had come on confidently, right up to the muzzles of the sentries' muskets. they had then been met with a shattering volley, which killed and wounded half their number and sent the others scattering to the woods. fearing that they were but a scouting party, and that a troop of horse might be following to support them, drake gave the word to fall in for the road. the spoil, such as it was, was shouldered; drake blew a blast upon his whistle; the men formed up into their accustomed marching order, and tramped away from venta cruz, across the chagres bridge, just as the dawn set the parrots screeching and woke the monkeys to their morning song. they seem to have expected no pursuit; but drake was not a man to run unnecessary risks. his men, including the maroons, were "grown very valiant," yet they were granted no further chance to show their valour. drake told them that they had now been "well near a fortnight" from the ship, with her company of sick and sorry sailors. he was anxious to rejoin her without delay, so the word was given to force the marching. he refused to visit the indian villages, though the maroons begged him earnestly to do so. his one wish was to rejoin ellis hixom. he "hustled" his little company without mercy, encouraging them "with such example and speech that the way seemed much shorter." he himself, we are told, "marched most cheerfully," telling his comrades of the golden spoils they would win before they sailed again for england. there was little ease on that march to the coast, for drake would allow no one to leave the ranks. when provisions ran out they had to march on empty stomachs. there was no hunting of the peccary or the deer, as on the jolly progress westward. "we marched many days with hungry stomachs," says the narrative, and such was the hurry of the march that many of the men "fainted with sickness of weariness." their clothes were hanging on their backs in shreds and tatters. their boots had long since cracked and rotted. many of them were marching with their feet wrapped up in rags. many of them were so footsore they could scarcely put their feet upon the ground. swaying, limping, utterly road-weary, they came tottering into a little village which the maroons had built as a rest-house for them, about three leagues from the ship. they were quite exhausted. their feet were bloody and swollen. the last stages had been marched with great bodily suffering, "all our men complaining of the tenderness of their feet." drake complained also, "sometimes without cause, but sometimes with cause indeed; which made the rest to bear the burden the more easily." some of the men were carried in by the maroons. indeed, the maroons had saved the whole party from collapse, for they not only built them shelter huts at night, carried the weary, and found, or made, them a road to travel by, but they also bore the whole burden of the company's arms and necessaries. their fellows who had stayed with ellis hixom had built the little town in the woods, for the refreshment of all hands, in case they should arrive worn out with marching. at sunset on the evening of saturday, the nd of february, the weary crew arrived at the little town, to the great joy of the maroons who kept watch and ward there. the tired men lay down to rest, while drake "despatched a cimaroon with a token and certain order to the master." the day had dawned before this messenger arrived upon the sands near which the ship was moored. he hailed her, crying out that he came with news, and immediately a boat pushed off, manned by men "which longed to hear of our captain's speeding." as soon as he appeared before ellis hixom, he handed over drake's golden toothpick, "which he said our captain had sent for a token to ellis hixom, with charge to meet him at such a river." the sight of the golden toothpick was too much for ellis hixom. he knew it to be his captain's property, but coming as it did, without a sign in writing, it convinced him that "something had befallen our captain otherwise than well." the maroon saw him staring "as amazed," and told him that it was dark when drake had packed him off, so that no letter could be sent, "but yet with the point of his knife, he wrote something upon the toothpick, 'which,' he said, 'should be sufficient to gain credit to the messenger.'" looking closely at the sliver of gold, hixom saw a sentence scratched upon it: "by me, francis drake," which convinced him that the message was genuine. he at once called away one of the pinnaces, storing her with "what provision he could," and promptly set sail for the mouth of the tortugos river, a few miles along the coast, to the west of where he lay, for there drake intended to await him. at about three o'clock that afternoon, drake marched his men, or all who were fit to march, out of the forest to the sandy beach at the river's mouth. half-an-hour later the tattered ragamuffins saw the pinnace running in to take them off, "which was unto us all a double rejoicing: first that we saw them, and next, so soon." the whole company stood up together on the beach to sing some of the psalms of thanksgiving--praising god "most heartily, for that we saw our pinnace and fellows again." to ellis hixom and his gang of shipkeepers the raiders appeared "as men strangely changed," though drake was less changed than the others, in spite of the wound he got at venta cruz. the three weeks' march in that abominable country, and the last few days of "fasting and sore travail," would have been enough to "fore pine and waste" the very strongest, while "the grief we drew inwardly, for that we returned without that gold and treasure we hoped for, did no doubt show her print and footsteps in our faces." the next day the pinnace rowed "to another river in the bottom of the bay" to pick up the stragglers who had stayed to rest with the maroons. the company was then reunited in the secret haven. wonderful tales were told of the journey across the isthmus, of the south sea, with its lovely city, and of the rush through the grass in the darkness, when the mule bells came clanging past, that night near venta cruz. the sick men recovering from their calentures "were thoroughly revived" by these tales. they importuned drake to take them with him on the next foray; for drake gave out that he meant not to leave off thus, but would once again attempt the same journey. in the general rejoicing and merry-making it is possible that robert pike remained aloof in the darkness of the 'tween decks, deprived of his allowance of aqua-vitæ. drake noted the eager spirit among his men, and determined to give it vent. he called them together to a consultation, at which they discussed what was best to be done until the mule trains again set forth from panama. there was veragua, "a rich town lying to the westward, between nombre de dios and nicaragua, where is the richest mine of fine gold that is on this north side." at veragua also there were little rivers, in which "oftentimes they find pieces of gold as big as peas." then, if veragua were thought ill of, as too difficult, there were treasure ships to intercept as they wallowed home for spain from nombre de dios. or the men might keep themselves employed in capturing victual frigates for the stocking of the ship before they attacked another recua. this last scheme was flouted by many as unnecessary. they had food enough, they said, and what they lacked the country would supply, but the treasure, the comfortable dew of heaven, for which they had come so far, was the main thing, and to get that they were ready to venture on the galleons, soldiers or no soldiers. at this point the maroons were called in to give their opinion. most of them had served the spaniards as slaves in one town or another of the main. several of them had worked under the whip of a wealthy spaniard in veragua, a creature of the name of pezoro, who was "bad and cruel, not only to his slaves, but unto all men." this gentleman lived in a strong stone house at a little distance from the town. he had amassed a vast quantity of treasure, for he owned a gold mine, which he worked with slaves. he lived with a guard of soldiers, but the maroons felt confident that by attacking from the shore side of the house they could easily break in upon him. his gold was stored in his house "in certain great chests." if they succeeded in surprising the house, it would be an easy matter to make a spoil of the whole. drake did not care for the scheme, as it involved a long march through the woods. he hesitated to put his men to so much labour, for he had now seen something of this woodland marching, and knew how desperate a toil it was. he thought that they would be better employed in gathering victuals and looking out for treasure transports. they might practise both crafts at the same time by separating into two companies. john oxenham, in the _bear_ frigate, could sail "eastwards towards tolu, to see what store of victuals would come athwart his halse." in the meanwhile he would take the _minion_ pinnace to the west, to "lie off and on the cabezas" in order to intercept any treasure transports coming from veragua or nicaragua to nombre de dios. those of the maroons who cared to stay aboard the _pascha_ were free to do so. the rest were dismissed "most courteously" with "gifts and favours" of the sorts most pleasing to them, such as knives, iron, coloured ribbons and cloth. the companies were picked; the pinnaces received their stores; sails were bent and set, and the two boats sailed away to their stations. off the cabezas the _minion_ fell in with a frigate from nicaragua "in which was some gold and a genoese pilot." drake treated this pilot in his usual liberal manner till he won him over to his interests. he had been in veragua harbour, he said, but eight days before. he knew the channel perfectly, so that he could carry drake in, at night if need were, at any state of the tide. the townsfolk, he said, were in a panic on account of drake's presence in those seas; they were in such a state of terror that they could not decide upon a scheme to defend the town in case he attacked it. signor pezoro was thinking of removing himself to the south seas. the harbour lay open to any enemy, for the only guns in the place were up at the town, about fifteen miles from the haven's mouth. if drake made a sudden dash, he said, he would be able to cut out a frigate in the harbour. she was fitting for the sea there, and was very nearly ready to sail. she had aboard her "above a million of gold," which, with a little promptness and courage, might become the property of the raiders. on hearing of this golden booty, drake thought of all that the maroons had told him. he was minded to return to the anchorage, to fetch off some of those who had lived with senor pezoro, in order that he might have a check upon the pilot's statements, and a guide, if need were, to the city. the genoese dissuaded him from this scheme, pointing out that a return to the ship would waste several days, during which the frigate might get away to sea. drake, therefore, took the packets of gold from the nicaraguan prize, and dismissed her "somewhat lighter to hasten her journey." he then got his oars out, and made all haste to the west, under a press of sail, "to get this harbour, and to enter it by night." he hoped to cut out the treasure ship and to have a look at the house of senor pezoro--two investments which would "make" the voyage if all went well. but as the boat drew near to the mouth of the harbour "we heard the report of two chambers, and farther off, about a league within the bay, two others as it were answering them." the spaniards had espied the boat, and had fired signal guns to warn the shipping and the town. the report of the guns called the spaniards to arms--an exercise they were more ready to since the governor of panama had warned them to expect drake. "the rich gnuffe pezoro," it was thought, had paid the cost of the sentries. "it was not god's will that we should enter at that time," says the narrative. the wind shifted opportunely to the westward; and drake put his helm up, and ran away to the east, where he picked up the _bear_, "according to appointment." oxenham had had a very prosperous and pleasant cruise, for off tolu he had come across a victual frigate "in which there were ten men [whom they set ashore], great store of maize, twenty-eight fat hogs, and two hundred hens." the lading was discharged into the _pascha_ on the th and th of march as a seasonable refreshment to the company. the frigate pleased drake, for though she was small (not twenty tons, in fact) she was strong, new, and of a beautiful model. as soon as her cargo was out of her, he laid her on her side, and scraped and tallowed her "to make her a man of war." he then fitted her with guns from the _pascha_, and stored her with provisions for a cruise. the spaniards taken in her had spoken of "two little galleys built in nombre de dios, to waft [tow] the chagres fleet to and fro." they were "not yet both launched," and the chagres fleet lay waiting for them within the mouth of the chagres river. drake "purposed now to adventure for that fleet." the day on which he made his plan was easter sunday, the nd march. "and to hearten his company" for that bold attempt "he feasted them that easter day with great cheer and cheerfulness" on the dainties taken from the spaniards. the next day, he manned "the new tallowed frigate of tolu," and sailed away west (with oxenham in the _bear_ in company) "towards the cativaas," where they landed to refresh themselves. as they played about upon the sand, flinging pebbles at the land-crabs, they saw a sail to the westward coming down towards them. they at once repaired aboard, and made sail, and "plied towards" the stranger, thinking her to be a spaniard. the stranger held on her course as though to run the raiders aboard, "till he perceived by our confidence that we were no spaniards, and conjectured we were those englishmen of whom he had heard long before." he bore up suddenly under the lee of the english ships, "and in token of amity shot off his lee ordnance"--a salute which drake at once acknowledged by a similar discharge. as the ships neared each other, the stranger hailed drake, saying that he was captain tetû, or le testu, a frenchman of newhaven (or havre), in desperate want of water. he had been looking for drake, he said, for the past five weeks, "and prayed our captain to help him to some water, for that he had nothing but wine and cider aboard him, which had brought his men into great sickness"--gastritis or dysentery. drake at once sent a boat aboard with a cask or two of drink, and some fresh meat, "willing him to follow us to the next port, where he should have both water and victuals." as soon as they had brought their ships to anchor, the french captain sent drake "a case of pistols, and a fair gilt scimitar (which had been the late king's of france) whom monsieur montgomery hurt in the eye." the frenchman had received it from "monsieur strozze," or strozzi, a famous general of banditti. drake accepted the gift in the magnificent manner peculiar to him, sending the bearer back to tetû with a chain of gold supporting a tablet of enamel. having exchanged gifts, according to the custom of the sea, captain tetû came off to visit drake. he was a huguenot privateer, who had been in france at the time of the massacre of st bartholomew, the murder of coligny, "and divers others murders." he had "thought those frenchmen the happiest which were farthest from france," and had, therefore, put to sea to escape from persecution. he was now cruising off the spanish main, "a man of war as we were." he had heard much of drake's spoils upon the coast, and "desired to know" how he too might win a little spanish gold. his ship was a fine craft of more than eighty tons, manned by seventy men and boys. he asked drake to take him into partnership, so that they might share the next adventure. the offer was not very welcome to drake, for the french company was more than double the strength of the english. drake had but thirty-one men left alive, and he regarded tetû with a good deal of jealousy and a good deal of distrust. yet with only thirty-one men he could hardly hope to succeed in any great adventure. if he joined with the french, he thought there would be danger of their appropriating most of the booty after using him and his men as their tools. the english sailors were of the same opinion; but it was at last decided that tetû, with twenty picked hands, should be admitted to partnership, "to serve with our captain for halves." it was something of a risk, but by admitting only twenty of the seventy men the risk was minimised. they were not enough to overpower drake in case they wished to make away with all the booty, yet they made him sufficiently strong to attempt the schemes he had in hand. an agreement was, therefore, signed; a boat was sent to the secret anchorage to bring the cimmeroons; and the three ships then sailed away to the east, to the magazines of food which drake had stored some weeks before. here they lay at anchor for five or six days to enable the sick frenchmen to get their health and strength after their weeks of misery. the huguenot ship was revictualled from the magazines and then taken with the _bear_ into the secret haven. the third pinnace, the _lion_, had been sunk a few days before, but the other two, the _eion_ and the _minion_, with the new tolu frigate, were set in order for the next adventure. drake chose fifteen of his remaining thirty hands, and sent them down into the pinnaces with a few maroons. the twenty frenchmen joined him, under their captain, and the expedition then set sail for rio francisco, fifteen miles from nombre de dios. as they sailed, the maroons gave out that the frigate was too deep a ship to cross the rio francisco bar, which had little water on it at that season of the year. they, therefore, sailed her back, and left her at the cabezas, "manned with english and french, in the charge of richard doble," with strict orders not to venture out until the return of the pinnaces. putting her complement into the pinnaces, they again set sail for the mouth of the francisco river. they crossed the bar without difficulty, and rowed their boats upstream. they landed some miles from the sea, leaving the pinnaces in charge of some maroons. these had orders to leave the river, and hide themselves in the cabezas, and to await the raiders at the landing-place, without fail, in four days' time. as soon as drake had landed, he ordered the company in the formation he had used on his march to panama. he enjoined strict silence upon all, and gave the word to march. they set forward silently, through the cane-brakes and lush undergrowth, upon the long, seven leagues march to the town of nombre de dios. they marched all day uncomplainingly, so that at dusk they had crept to within a mile of the trackway, a little to the south of the town. they were now on some gently rising ground, with the swamps and nombre de dios at their feet. it made a good camping-ground; and there they passed the night of the st of march, resting and feasting "in great stillness, in a most convenient place." they were so close to the town that they could hear the church bells ringing and the clatter of the hammers in the bay, where the carpenters were at work upon the treasure ships. they were working there busily, beating in the rivets all night, in the coolness, to fit the ships for sea. nearer to them, a little to the west, was the trackway, so that they could hear the mule trains going past to panama with a great noise of ringing bells. early on the morning of the st of april they heard a great clang of bells among the woods. the mule trains were coming in from venta cruz--three mule trains according to the cimmeroons, laden with "more gold and silver than all of us could bear away." the adventurers took their weapons, and crept through the scrub to the trackway "to hear the bells." in a few minutes, when each side of the track had been manned by the adventurers, the treasure trains trotted up with a great clang and clatter. there were three complete recuas, "one of mules, the other two of each, every of which carried lbs. of silver; which in all amounted to near thirty tons." the trains were guarded by a half company of spanish foot, "fifteen to each company." the soldiers marched by the side of the trains, blowing on their matches to keep the smouldering ends alight. as the leading mules came up with the head of the ambush drake blew a blast upon his whistle. the raiders rose from their hiding-place, and fired a volley of shot and arrows at the troops. at the same moment tarry hands were laid upon the heads of the leading mules, so that "all the rest stayed and lay down as their manner is." the spanish soldiers, taken by surprise, were yet a credit to their colours. they fell into confusion at the first assault, but immediately rallied. a brisk skirmish began, over the bodies of the mules, with sharp firing of muskets and arrows. captain tetû was hit in the belly with a charge of hail-shot; a maroon was shot dead; and then the sailors cleared the road with a rush, driving the spanish pell-mell towards the town. then with feverish hands they cast adrift the mule packs "to ease some of the mules, which were heaviest loaden, of their carriage." they were among such wealth as few men have looked upon at the one time. how much they took will never now be known, but each man there had as much pure gold, in bars and quoits, as he could carry. they buried about fifteen tons of silver "partly in the burrows which the great land-crabs had made in the earth, and partly under old trees which were fallen thereabout, and partly in the sand and gravel of a river, "not very deep of water." some of it, no doubt, remains there to this day. in about two hours' time, they were ready to return to their pinnaces. they formed into order, and hurried away towards the woods, making as much haste as the weight of plunder would allow. as they gained the shelter of the forest they heard a troop of horse, with some arquebusiers, coming hurriedly to the rescue of the mules. they attempted no pursuit, for no spaniard cared to enter the forest to attack a force in which maroons were serving. the raiders were, therefore, able to get clear away into the jungle. all that day and the next day they hurried eastward through the scrub. they made a brief pause, as they tramped, to lay down captain tetû, whose wound prevented him from marching. he could go no farther, and begged that he might be left behind in the forest, "in hope that some rest would recover him better strength." two french sailors stayed with him to protect him. chapter vi the adventure of the raft drake's voyage to the catives--homeward bound--the interrupted sermon when the retreating force had gone about two leagues, they discovered that a frenchman was missing from the ranks. he had not been hurt in the fight; but there was no time to search for him (as a matter of fact, he had drunk too much wine, and had lost himself in the woods), so again they pressed on to the pinnaces and safety. on the rd of april, utterly worn out with the hurry of the retreat, they came to the francisco river. they were staggering under the weight of all their plunder, and, to complete their misery, they were wet to the skin with a rain-storm which had raged all night. to their horror they found no pinnaces awaiting them, but out at sea, not far from the coast, were seven spanish pinnaces which had been beating up the inlets for them. these were now rowing as though directly from the rendezvous at the cabezas, so that the draggled band upon the shore made no doubt that their pinnaces had been sunk, their friends killed or taken, and the retreat cut off. drake's chief fear, on seeing these spanish boats, was that "they had compelled our men by torture to confess where his frigate and ships were." to the disheartened folk about him it seemed that all hope of returning home was now gone, for they made no doubt that the ships were by this time destroyed. some of them flung down their gold in despair, while all felt something of the general panic. the maroons recommended that the march should be made by land, "though it were sixteen days' journey," promising them that, if the ships were taken, they might sojourn among them in the forest as long as they wished. the sailors were in too great "distress and perplexity" to listen to counsel; but drake had a genius for handling situations of the kind, and he now came forward to quell the uproar. the men were babbling and swearing in open mutiny, and the case demanded violent remedy. he called for silence, telling the mutineers that he was no whit better off than they were; that it was no time to give way to fear, but a time to keep a stiff upper lip, and play the man. he reminded them that, even if the spaniards had taken the pinnaces, "which god forbid," "yet they must have time to search them, time to examine the mariners, time to execute their resolution after it is determined." "before all these times be taken," he exclaimed angrily, "we may get to our ships if ye will." they might not hope to go by land, he said, for it would take too long, and the ways would be too foul. but why should they not go by water? there was the river at their feet, roaring down in full spate, tumbling the trunks of trees destroyed in last night's storm. why in the world should they not make a raft of the trees, "and put ourselves to sea"? "i will be one," he concluded, "who will be the other?" the appeal went home to the sailors. an englishman named john smith at once came forward, with a couple of frenchmen "who could swim very well." the maroons formed into a line beside the river, and the tree trunks were caught and hauled ashore to form the body of the raft. the branches were trimmed with the hatchets they had brought to clear a path through the forest. the boles were fastened together with thongs stolen from the recua, and with the pliant bejuca growing all about them. the men worked merrily, convinced that drake would find a way to bring the ship to them. as soon as the raft was built, a mast was stepped in her, on which a biscuit sack was hoisted for a sail. a young tree, working in a crutch, served them as a steering oar. the four men went aboard, a line was laid out to the bar, and the curious raft was hauled off into the sea. the last of the storm of the night before was still roaring up aloft. a high sea was running, and the wind blew strong from the west. drake put his helm up, and stood off before it, crying out to the company that "if it pleased god, he should put his foot in safety aboard his frigate, he would, god willing, by one means or other get them all aboard, in despite of all the spaniards in the indies." those who have sailed on a raft in calm water will appreciate the courage of drake's deed. the four men aboard her had to squat in several inches of salt water, holding on for their lives, while the green seas came racing over them "to the arm pits" at "every surge of the wave." the day was intensely hot in spite of the wind, and "what with the parching of the sun and what with the beating of the salt water, they had all of them their skins much fretted away." with blistered and cracking faces, parched with the heat and the salt, and shivering from the continual immersion, they sailed for six hours, making about a knot and a half an hour. when they had made their third league "god gave them the sight of two pinnaces" beating towards them under oars and sail, and making heavy weather of it. the sight of the boats was a great joy to the four sufferers on the raft. they edged towards them as best they could, crying out that all was safe, "so that there was no cause of fear." it was now twilight, and the wind, already fierce, was blowing up into a gale. in the failing light, with the spray sweeping into their eyes, the men aboard the pinnaces could not see the raft, nor could they make headway towards her with the wind as it was. as drake watched, he saw them bear up for a cove to the lee of a point of land, where they could shelter for the night. he waited a few moments to see if they would put forth again, but soon saw that they had anchored. he then ran his raft ashore to windward of them, on the other side of the headland. he was very angry with the pinnaces' hands for their disobedience of orders. had they done as he had commanded them, they would have been in the francisco river the night before, and all the pains and danger of the raft would have been unnecessary. drake, therefore, resolved to play a trick upon them. as soon as he landed, he set off running to the haven where the boats lay, followed by john smith and the two frenchmen--all running "in great haste," "as if they had been chased by the enemy." the hands in the pinnaces saw the four men hurrying towards them, and at once concluded that the spaniards had destroyed the expedition, and that these four hunted wretches were the sole survivors. in an agony of suspense they got the four men into the boats, eagerly asking where the others were, and in what state. to these inquiries "he answered coldly, 'well'"--an answer which convinced them that their mates were either dead or in the hands of the spaniards. drake watched their misery for a little while, and then being "willing to rid all doubts, and fill them with joy," he took from the bosom of his shirt "a quoit of gold," giving thanks to god that the voyage was at last "made." some frenchmen were in the boat, and to these he broke the news of captain tetû's wound and how he had been left behind in the forest, "and two of his company with him." he then bade the men to get the grapnels up, as he was determined to row to the rio francisco that night. after the anchors were raised, and the oars shipped, a few hours of desperate rowing brought them to the river's mouth, where the company had camped about a fire. by the dawn of the next day the whole expedition was embarked, and the pinnaces (their planking cracking with the weight of treasure) were running eastward with a fresh wind dead astern. they picked up the frigate that morning, and then stood on for the ships, under sail, with great joy. soon they were lying safe at anchor in the shelter of the secret haven at fort diego. all the gold and silver were laid together in a heap, and there in the full view of all hands, french and english, drake weighed it on the steward's meat scales, dividing it into two equal portions, to the satisfaction of everyone. the french took their portion aboard their ship as soon as it had been allotted to them. they then begged drake for some more sea-stores, to fit them for the sea, and he gave them a quantity of provisions from his secret magazines. they then filled their water casks, and stood away to the west, to cruise for a few days off the cabezas in the hope of obtaining news of captain tetû. as soon as they had gone, drake ordered his old ship, the _pascha_, to be stripped of all things necessary for the fitting of the frigate, the spanish prize. the long months at port diego had left her very foul, and it was easier to dismantle her than to fit her for the sea. while she was being stripped to equip the frigate, drake organised another expedition to recover captain tetû and the buried silver. his men would not allow him to take a part in this final adventure, so oxenham, and one thomas sherwell, were placed in command. drake accompanied them as far as the francisco river, taking an oar in one of the pinnaces which conveyed them. as they rowed lightly up the stream, the reeds were thrust aside, and one of captain tetû's two comrades came staggering out, and fell upon his knees. in a broken voice he thanked god that ever drake was born to deliver him thus, after he had given up all hope. he told them that he had been surprised by the spaniards half-an-hour after he had taken up his post beside his wounded captain. as the spaniards came upon them, he took to his heels, followed by his mate. he had been carrying a lot of pillage, but as he ran he threw it all away, including a box of jewels, which caught his mate's eye as it fell in the grass. "his fellow took it up, and burdened himself so sore that he could make no speed," so that the spaniards soon overtook him, and carried him away with captain tetû. having taken two of the three frenchmen, the spaniards were content to leave the chase, and the poor survivor had contrived to reach the rio francisco after several days of wandering in the woods. as for the silver which they had buried so carefully in the sands, "he thought that it was all gone ... for that ... there had been near two thousand spaniards and negroes there to dig and search for it." notwithstanding this report, john oxenham with a company of twenty-seven men, marched west to view the place. he found that the earth "every way a mile distant had been digged and turned up," for the spaniards had put their captives to the torture to learn what had been done with the treasure. most of it had been recovered by this means, "yet nevertheless, for all that narrow search," a little of the dew of heaven was still glimmering in the crab-holes. the company was able to rout out some quantity of refined gold, with thirteen bars of silver, weighing some forty pounds apiece. with this spoil upon their backs, they returned to the rio francisco, where the pinnaces took them off to the frigate. now that the voyage was made, it was "high time to think of homeward," before the spaniards should fit out men-of-war against them. drake was anxious to give the _pascha_ to the spanish prisoners, as some compensation for their weeks of captivity. he could not part with her, however, till he had secured another vessel to act as tender, or victualler, to his little frigate. he determined to make a cast to the east, as far as the rio grande, to look for some suitable ship. the huguenot privateer, which had been lying off the cabezas, sailed eastward in his company, having abandoned captain tetû and his two shipmates to the mercies of the spaniards. they stood along the coast together as far as the isles of san barnardo, where the french ship parted company. the spanish plate fleet, with its guard of galleons, was riding at the entry to cartagena, and the frenchmen feared that by coming too near they might be taken. they, therefore, saluted drake with guns and colours, and shaped their course for hispaniola and home. [illustration: ship and flying fish] but drake held on in his way in a bravery, determined to see the rio grande before returning home. he sailed past cartagena almost within gunshot, "in the sight of all the fleet, with a flag of st george in the main top of our frigate, with silk streamers and ancients down to the water, sailing forward with a large wind." late that night they arrived off the mouth of the rio grande, where they shortened sail, "and lay off and on." at midnight the wind veered round to the eastward, so that the victuallers at anchor in the river were able to set sail for cartagena. about two o'clock in the morning a frigate slipped over the bar under small sail, and ran past drake towards the west. the english at once opened fire upon her with their shot and arrows, to which the spaniards replied with their quick-firing guns. while the english gunners plied her with missiles a pinnace laid her aboard, at which the spaniards leaped overboard and swam for the shore. the newly taken frigate proved to be some seven or eight tons larger than the one in which the english had come to the east. she was laden with maize, hens, and hogs, and a large quantity of honey from the wild bees of nueva reyna. as soon as the day dawned, the two frigates sailed away again to the cabezas to prepare for the voyage home. the prize's cargo was discharged upon the beach. both frigates were then hove down, and the spanish prisoners (taken some weeks before) were allowed to depart aboard the _pascha_. the barnacles were scrubbed and burned off the frigates; their bends were resheathed and retallowed; the provisions were stowed in good trim; water casks were filled; and all things set in order for the voyage. the dainty pinnaces, which had done them such good service, and carried them so many weary miles, were then torn to pieces, and burned, "that the cimaroons might have the iron-work." lastly, drake asked pedro and three maroon chiefs to go through both the frigates "to see what they liked." he wished them to choose themselves some farewell gifts, and promised them that they should have what they asked, unless it were essential to the safety of the vessels. we are not told the choice of the three maroon chiefs, but we read that pedro chose the "fair gilt scimitar," the gift of captain tetû, which had once belonged to henri ii. of france. drake had not meant to part with it, but pedro begged for it so prettily, through the mouth of one francis tucker, that drake gave it him "with many good words," together with a quantity of silk and linen for the wives of those who had marched with him. they then bade adieu to the delighted pedro and his fellows, for it was time to set sail for england. with a salute of guns and colours, with the trumpets sounding, and the ships' companies to give a cheer, the two little frigates slipped out of their harbour, and stood away under all sail for cape st antonio. they took a small barque laden with hides upon the way, but dismissed her as being useless to them after they had robbed her of her pump. at cape st antonio they salted and dried a number of turtles, as provisions for the voyage. then they took their departure cheerfully towards the north, intending to call at newfoundland to fill with water. the wind blew steadily from the south and west to blow them home, so that this scheme was abandoned. abundant rain supplied their water casks, the wind held steady, the sun shone, and the blue miles slipped away. "within twenty-three days" they passed "from the cape of florida to the isles of scilly," the two spanish frigates being admirable sailers. with the silk streamers flying in a bravery the two ships sailed into plymouth "on sunday, about sermon time, august the th, ." there they dropped anchor to the thunder of the guns, to the great joy of all the townsfolk. "the news of our captain's return ... did so speedily pass over all the church, and surpass their minds with desire and delight to see him, that very few or none remained with the preacher, all hastening to see the evidence of god's love and blessing towards our gracious queen and country, by the fruit of our captain's labour and success. _soli deo gloria._" we may take leave of him at this point, with the plymouth bells ringing him a welcome and the worshippers flocking down to see him land. _note._--"there were at the time," says the narrative, "belonging to cartagena, nombre de dios, rio grande, santa marta, rio de la hacha, venta cruz, veragua, nicaragua, the honduras, jamaica, etc.; above frigates; some of tons, others but of or tons, but the most of or tons, which all had intercourse between cartagena and nombre de dios. the most of which, during our abode in those parts, we took; and some of them twice or thrice each." most of these frigates were provision ships, but in all of them, no doubt, there was a certain amount of gold and silver, besides uncut jewels or pearls from the king's islands. we do not know the amount of drake's plunder, but with the spoil of all these frigates, added to the loot of the recua, it must have been very considerable. he may have made as much as £ , , or more, or less. it is as well to put the estimate low. chapter vii john oxenham the voyage--his pinnace--into the south sea--disaster--his unhappy end the john oxenham, or oxnam, who followed drake to nombre de dios, and stood with him that sunny day watching the blue pacific from the tree-top, was a devonshire gentleman from south tawton. he was of good family and well to do. he may, perhaps, have given money towards the fitting out of drake's squadron. it is at least certain that he held in that voyage a position of authority considerably greater than that of "soldier, mariner, and cook"--the rates assigned to him by sir richard hawkins. on his return from the nombre de dios raid, he disappears, and it is uncertain whether he followed drake to ireland, or settled down at home in devonshire. he did not forget the oath he had sworn to his old captain, to follow him to the south sea in god's good time. but after waiting a year or two, and finding that drake was not ready to attempt that adventure, he determined to go at his own charge, with such men as he could find. he was well known in the little devon seaports as a bold sailor and fiery sea-captain. he was "a fine figure of a man," and the glory of drake's raid was partly his. he was looked upon as one of the chief men in that foray. he had, therefore, little difficulty in getting recruits for a new voyage to the main. in the year he set sail from plymouth in a fine ship of tons, with a crew of seventy men and boys. he made a fair passage to the main, and anchored in drake's old anchorage--either that of the secret haven, in the gulf of darien, or that farther west, among the catives. here he went ashore, and made friends with the maroons, some of whom, no doubt, were old acquaintances, still gay with beads or iron-work which he had given them two years before. they told him that the treasure trains "from panama to nombre de dios" were now strongly guarded by spanish soldiers, so that he might not hope to win such a golden booty as drake had won, by holding up a recua on the march. oxenham, therefore, determined "to do that which never any man before enterprised"--by leaving his ship, marching over the watershed, building a pinnace in the woods, and going for a cruise on the south sea. he dragged his ship far into the haven, struck her topmasts, and left her among the trees, beached on the mud, and covered with green boughs so as to be hidden from view. her great guns were swung ashore, and buried, and the graves of them strewn with leaves and brushwood. he then armed his men with their calivers and their sacks of victual, "and so went with the negroes," dragging with them two small guns, probably quick-firing guns, mounted on staves of wood or iron. hawkins says that he left four or five men behind him as shipkeepers. after a march of "about twelve leagues into the maine-land" the maroons brought him to a river "that goeth to the south sea." here the party halted, and built themselves little huts of boughs to live in while they made themselves a ship. they cut down some trees here, and built themselves a pinnace "which was five and fortie foot by the keele." they seem to have brought their sails and tackling with them, but had they not done so they could have made shift with the rough indian cloth and the fibrous, easily twisted bark of the maho-tree. having built this little ship, they went aboard of her, and dropped downstream to the pacific--the first english crew, but not the first englishman, to sail those waters. six negroes came with them to act as guides. as soon as they had sailed out of the river's mouth, they made for the pearl islands, or islands of the king, "which is five and twentie leagues from panama." here they lay very close, in some snug inlet hidden from the sea. some of them went inland to a rocky cliff, to watch the seas for ships coming northward from peru with treasure from the gold and silver mines. the islands are in the fairway between panama and lima, but ten days passed before the watchers saw a sail, and cried out to those in the boat. "there came a small barke by, which came from peru, from a place called quito"; and the pinnace dashed alongside of her, and carried her by the sword, before her sailors learned what was the matter. she was laden with "sixtie thousand pezos of golde, and much victuals." john oxenham took her lading, and kept the barque by him, while he stayed on at the islands. at the end of six days, another "barke" came by, from lima, "in whiche he tooke an hundred thousand pezos of silver in barres." this was plunder enough to "make" any voyage, and with this john oxenham was content. before he sailed away, however, he marched upon one or two of the pearl fisheries, where he found a few pearls. he then sailed northward to the river's mouth taking his prizes with him, with all the prisoners. at the river's mouth he very foolishly "sent away the two prizes that hee tooke"--a piece of clemency which knotted the rope under his ear. he then sailed up the river, helping his pinnace by poles, oars, and warps, but making slow progress. before he reached this river, the negroes of the pearl islands sent word to the governor of panama that english pirates had been in those seas plundering their fisheries. "within two days" the governor despatched four galleys, "with negroes to rowe," and twenty-five musketeers in each galley, under the captain john de ortega, to search the pearl islands very thoroughly for those robbers. they reached the islands, learned in which direction the pirate ships had gone, and rowed away north to overtake them. as they came near the land, they fell in with the two prizes, the men of which were able to tell them how the pirates had gone up the river but a few days before. john de ortega came to the river's mouth with his four galleys, and "knew not which way to take, because there were three partitions in the river, to goe up in." he decided at last to go up the greatest, and was actually rowing towards it, when "he saw comming down a lesser river many feathers of hennes, which the englishmen had pulled to eate." these drifting feathers, thrown overboard so carelessly, decided the spanish captain. he turned up the lesser river "where he saw the feathers," and bade his negroes give way heartily. four days later, he saw the english pinnace drawn up on the river-bank "upon the sands," guarded by six of her crew. the musketeers at once fired a volley, which killed one of the englishmen, and sent the other five scattering to the cover of the woods. there was nothing in the pinnace but bread and meat. all the gold pezoes and the bars of silver had been landed. the presence of the boat guard warned the spanish captain that the main body of the pirates was near at hand. he determined to land eighty of his musketeers to search those woods before returning home. "hee had not gone half a league" before he found one of the native huts, thatched with palm leaves, in which were "all the englishmen's goods and the gold and silver also." the englishmen were lying about the hut, many of them unarmed, with no sentry keeping a lookout for them. taken by surprise as they were, they ran away into the woods, leaving all things in the hands of the spaniards. the spaniards carried the treasure back to the galleys, and rowed slowly down the river "without following the englishmen any further." it appeared later, that oxenham had ordered his men to carry the gold and silver from the place where they had hauled the pinnace ashore, to the place where the ship was hidden. to this the mariners joyfully assented, "for hee promised to give them part of it besides their wages." unfortunately, they wished this "part of it" paid to them at once, before they shifted an ingot--a want which seemed to reflect upon john oxenham's honour. he was naturally very angry "because they would not take his word" to pay them something handsome when he reached home. he was a choleric sea-captain, and began, very naturally, to damn them for their insolence. "he fell out with them, and they with him," says hakluyt. one of them, stung by his captain's curses, "would have killed the captaine" there and then, with his caliver,[ ] or sailor's knife. this last act was too much. oxenham gave them a few final curses, and told them that, if such were their temper, they should not so much as touch a quoit of the treasure, but that he would get maroons to carry it. he then left them, and went alone into the forest to find maroons for the porterage. as he came back towards the camp, with a gang of negroes, he met the five survivors of the boat guard "and the rest also which ran from the house," all very penitent and sorry now that the mischief had been done. they told him of the loss of the treasure, and looked to him for guidance and advice, promising a better behaviour in the future. oxenham told them that if they helped him to recover the treasure, they should have half of it, "if they got it from the spaniards." "the negroes promised to help him with their bows and arrows," and with this addition to their force they set off down the river-bank in pursuit. [footnote : _caliver_, a light, hand musket. a musket without a crutch, or rest.] after three days' travelling, they came upon the spaniards, in camp, on the bank of the river, apparently in some strong position, sheltered with trees. oxenham at once fell on "with great fury," exposing himself and his men to the bullets of the musketeers. the spaniards were used to woodland fighting. each musketeer retired behind a tree, and fired from behind it, without showing more than his head and shoulders, and then but for a moment. the englishmen charged up the slope to the muzzles of the guns, but were repulsed with loss, losing eleven men killed and five men taken alive. the number of wounded is not stated. the negroes, who were less active in the charge, lost only five men. the spaniards loss was two killed "and five sore hurt." the english were beaten off the ground, and routed. they made no attempt to rally, and did not fall on a second time. the spanish captain asked his prisoners why they had not crossed the isthmus to their ship in the days before the pursuit began. to this the prisoners answered with the tale of their mutinies, adding that their captain would not stay longer in those parts now that his company had been routed. the spaniards then buried their dead, retired on board their galleys, and rowed home to panama, taking with them their prisoners and the english pinnace. when they arrived in that city, the prisoners were tortured till they confessed where their ship was hidden. advice was then sent to nombre de dios, where four pinnaces were at once equipped to seek out the secret haven. they soon found the ship, "and brought her to nombre de dios," where her guns and buried stores were divided among the king's ships employed in the work of the coast. while this search for the ship was being made, the viceroy of peru sent out musketeers to destroy the "fiftie english men" remaining alive. these troops, conducted by maroons, soon found the english in a camp by the river, "making of certaine canoas to goe into the north sea, and there to take some bark or other." many of them were sick and ill, "and were taken." the rest escaped into the forest, where they tried to make some arrangement with the negroes. the negroes, it seems, were angry with oxenham for his failure to keep his word to them. they had agreed to help him on condition that they might have all the spanish prisoners to torture "to feed their insatiable revenges." oxenham had released his prisoners, as we have seen, and the maroons had been disappointed of their dish of roasted spaniards' hearts. they were naturally very angry, and told john oxenham, when he came to them for help, that his misfortunes were entirely due to his own folly. had he kept his word, they said, he would have reached his ship without suffering these reverses. after a few days, being weary of keeping so many foreigners, they betrayed the english sailors to the spaniards. "they were brought to panama," to the justice of that city, who asked john oxenham "whether hee had the queene's licence, or the licence of any other prince or lord, for his attempt." to this john oxenham answered that he had no licence saving his sword. he was then condemned to death with the rest of his company, with the exception of two (or five) ships' boys. after a night or two in panama prison, within sound of the surf of the pacific, the mariners were led out, and shot. oxenham and the master and the pilot were sent to lima, where they were hanged as pirates in the square of the city. a force of musketeers was then sent into the interior, to reduce the maroons "which had assisted those english men." the punitive force "executed great justice," till "the negroes grew wise and wary," after which there was no more justice to be done. the ships' boys, who were spared, were probably sold as slaves in lima, or panama. they probably lived in those towns for the rest of their lives, and may have become good catholics, and wealthy, after due probation under the whip. sir richard hawkins, who was in panama in , and who may have heard a spanish version of the history, tells us that aboard the treasure ship taken by oxenham were "two peeces of speciall estimation: the one a table of massie gold, with emralds ... a present to the king; the other a lady of singular beautie." according to sir richard, john oxenham fell in love with this lady, and it was through her prayers that he released the other prisoners. he is said to have "kept the lady" when he turned the other prisoners away. the lady's "sonne, or a nephew," who was among those thus discharged, made every effort to redeem his mother (or aunt). he prayed so vehemently and "with such diligence," to the governor at panama, that the four galleys were granted to him "within few howers." the story is not corroborated; but oxenham was very human, and spanish beauty, like other beauty, is worth sinning for. a year or two later, captain andrew barker of bristol, while cruising off the main, captured a spanish frigate "between chagre and veragua." on board of her, pointing through the port-holes, were four cast-iron guns which had been aboard john oxenham's ship. they were brought to england, and left in the scilly islands, a.d. . _note._--the story of john oxenham is taken from "purchas his pilgrimes," vol. iv. (the original large to edition); and from hakluyt, vol. iii. p. . another version of the tale is given in sir r. hawkins' "observations." he is also mentioned in hakluyt's account of andrew barker. chapter viii the spanish rule in hispaniola rise of the buccaneers--the hunters of the wild bulls--tortuga--buccaneer politics--buccaneer customs in , when columbus landed on hayti, he found there about , , indians, of a gentle refinement of manners, living peaceably under their kings or caciques. they were "faint-hearted creatures," "a barbarous sort of people, totally given to sensuality and a brutish custom of life, hating all manner of labour, and only inclined to run from place to place." the spaniards killed many thousands of them, hunted a number with their bloodhounds, sent a number to work the gold-mines, and caused about a third of the population to commit suicide or die of famine. they discouraged sensuality and a distaste for work so zealously that within twenty years they had reduced the population to less than a twentieth part of its original , , of souls. they then called the island hispaniola, and built a city, on the south coast, as the capital. this city they called nueva ysabel, in honour of the queen of spain, but the name was soon changed to that of st domingo.[ ] [footnote : see particularly burney, exquemeling, edwards, and hazard.] those indians who were not enslaved, retired to the inmost parts of the island, to the shelter of the thickest woods, where they maintained themselves by hunting. the swine and cattle, which had belonged to their fellows in their prosperous days, ran wild, and swarmed all over the island in incredible numbers. the dogs of the caciques also took to the woods, where they ranged in packs of two or three score, hunting the wild swine and the calves. the spaniards seem to have left the interior of the island to the few survivors, as they had too few slaves to cultivate it. they settled themselves at st domingo, and at various places upon the coast, such as santiago and st john of goave. they planted tobacco, sugar, chocolate, and ginger, and carried on a considerable trade with the cities on the main and in the mother country. hayti, or hispaniola, is in the fairway of ships coming from europe towards the main. it was at one time looked upon as the landfall to be made before proceeding west to vera cruz or south to cartagena. the french, english, and hollanders, who visited those seas "maugre the king of spain's beard," discovered it at a very early date. they were not slow to recognise its many advantages. the spanish, who fiercely resented the presence of any foreigners in a part of the world apportioned to spain by the pope, did all they could to destroy them whenever they had the opportunity. but the spanish population in the indies was small, and spread over a vast area, and restricted, by government rules, to certain lines of action. they could not patrol the indies with a number of guarda costas sufficient to exclude all foreign ships, nor could they set guards, in forts, at every estancia or anchorage in the vast coast-line of the islands. nor could they enforce the spanish law, which forbade the settlers to trade with the merchants of other countries. it often happened that a ship from france, holland, or england arrived upon the coasts of hispaniola, or some other spanish colony, off some settlement without a garrison. the settlers in these out-of-the-way places were very glad to trade with such ships, for the freight they brought was cheaper and of better quality than that which paid duty to their king. the goods were landed, and paid for. the ships sent their crews ashore to fill fresh water or to reprovision, and then sailed home for europe, to return the next year with new goods. on the st domingo or hispaniola coasts there are countless creeks and inlets, making good harbours, where these smuggling ships might anchor or careen. the land was well watered and densely wooded, so that casks could be filled, and firewood obtained, without difficulty on any part of the coast. moreover, the herds of wild cattle and droves of wild boars enabled the ships to reprovision without cost. before the end of the sixteenth century, it had become the custom for privateers to recruit upon the coast of hispaniola, much as drake recruited at port plenty. the ships used to sail or warp into some snug cove, where they could be laid upon the careen to allow their barnacles to be burned away. the crews then landed, and pitched themselves tents of sails upon the beach, while some of their number took their muskets, and went to kill the cattle in the woods. in that climate, meat does not keep for more than a few hours, and it often happened that the mariners had little salt to spare for the salting of their kill. they, therefore, cured the meat in a manner they had learned from the carib indians. the process will be described later on. the spanish guarda costas, which were swift small vessels like the frigates drake captured on the main, did all they could to suppress the illegal trafficking. their captains had orders to take no prisoners, and every "interloper" who fell into their hands was either hanged, like oxenham, or shot, like oxenham's mariners. the huntsmen in the woods were sometimes fired at by parties of spaniards from the towns. there was continual war between the spaniards, the surviving natives, and the interlopers. but when the massacre of st bartholomew drove many huguenots across the water to follow the fortunes of captains like le testu, and when the news of drake's success at nombre de dios came to england, the interlopers began to swarm the seas in dangerous multitudes. before , the western coast of hispaniola had become a sort of colony, to which the desperate and the adventurous came in companies. the ships used to lie at anchor in the creeks, while a number of the men from each ship went ashore to hunt cattle and wild boars. many of the sailors found the life of the hunter passing pleasant. there were no watches to keep, no master to obey, no bad food to grumble at, and, better still, no work to do, save the pleasant work of shooting cattle for one's dinner. many of them found the life so delightful that they did not care to leave it when the time came for their ships to sail for europe. men who had failed to win any booty on the "terra firma," and had no jolly drinking-bout to look for on the quays at home, were often glad to stay behind at the hunting till some more fortunate captain should put in in want of men. shipwrecked men, men who were of little use at sea, men "who had disagreed with their commander," began to settle on the coast in little fellowships.[ ] they set on foot a regular traffic with the ships which anchored there. they killed great quantities of meat, which they exchanged (to the ships' captains) for strong waters, muskets, powder and ball, woven stuffs, and iron-ware. after a time, they began to preserve the hides, "by pegging them out very tite on the ground,"--a commodity of value, by which they made much money. the bones they did not seem to have utilised after they had split them for their marrow. the tallow and suet were sold to the ships--the one to grease the ships' bottoms when careened, the other as an article for export to the european countries. it was a wild life, full of merriment and danger. the spaniards killed a number of them, both french and english, but the casualties on the spanish side were probably a good deal the heavier. the huntsmen became more numerous. for all that the spaniards could do, their settlements and factories grew larger. the life attracted people, in spite of all its perils, just as tunny fishing attracted the young gallant in cervantes. a day of hunting in the woods, a night of jollity, with songs, over a cup of drink, among adventurous companions--_qué cosa tan bonita!_ we cannot wonder that it had a fascination. if a few poor fellows in their leather coats lay out on the savannahs with spanish bullets in their skulls, the rum went none the less merrily about the camp fires of those who got away. [footnote : see exquemeling, burney, and the abbé raynal.] in , on new year's day to be exact, sir francis drake arrived off hispaniola with his fleet. he had a greek pilot with him, who helped him up the roads to within gunshot of st domingo. the old spanish city was not prepared for battle, and the governor made of it "a new year's gift" to the valorous raiders. the town was sacked, and the squadron sailed away to pillage cartagena and st augustine. drake's raid was so successful that privateers came swarming in his steps to plunder the weakened spanish towns. they settled on the west and north-west coasts of hispaniola, compelling any spanish settlers whom they found to retire to the east and south. the french and english had now a firm foothold in the indies. without assistance from their respective governments they had won the right to live there, "maugre the king of spain's beard." in a few years' time, they had become so prosperous that the governments of france and england resolved to plant a colony in the caribbee islands, or lesser antilles. they thought that such a colony would be of benefit to the earlier adventurers by giving them official recognition and protection. a royal colony of french and english was, therefore, established on the island of st christopher, or st kitts, one of the caribbees, to the east of hispaniola, in the year . the island was divided between the two companies. they combined very amicably in a murderous attack upon the natives, and then fell to quarrelling about the possession of an island to the south. as the governments had foreseen, their action in establishing a colony upon st kitts did much to stimulate the settlements in hispaniola. the hunters went farther afield, for the cattle had gradually left the western coast for the interior. the anchorages by cape tiburon, or "cape shark," and samana, were filled with ships, both privateers and traders, loading with hides and tallow or victualling for a raid upon the main. the huntsmen and hidecurers, french and english, had grown wealthy. many of them had slaves, in addition to other valuable property. their growing wealth made them anxious to secure themselves from any sudden attack by land or sea. at the north-west end of hispaniola, separated from that island by a narrow strip of sea, there is a humpbacked little island, a few miles long, rather hilly in its centre, and very densely wooded. at a distance it resembles a swimming turtle, so that the adventurers on hispaniola called it tortuga, or turtle island. later on, it was known as petit guaves. between this tortuga and the larger island there was an excellent anchorage for ships, which had been defended at one time by a spanish garrison. the spaniards had gone away, leaving the place unguarded. the wealthier settlers seized the island, built themselves factories and houses, and made it "their head-quarters, or place of general rendezvous." after they had settled there, they seem to have thought themselves secure.[ ] in the spaniards attacked the place, at a time when nearly all the men were absent at the hunting. they killed all they found upon the island, and stayed there some little time, hanging those who surrendered to them after the first encounter. having massacred some or settlers, and destroyed as many buildings as they could, the spaniards sailed away, thinking it unnecessary to leave a garrison behind them. in this they acted foolishly, for their atrocities stirred the interlopers to revenge themselves. a band of them returned to tortuga, to the ruins which the spaniards had left standing. here they formed themselves into a corporate body, with the intention to attack the spanish at the first opportunity. here, too, for the first time, they elected a commander. it was at this crisis in their history that they began to be known as buccaneers, or people who practise the boucan, the native way of curing meat. it is now time to explain the meaning of the word and to give some account of the modes of life of the folk who brought it to our language. [footnote : burney.] the carib indians, and the kindred tribes on the brazilian coast, had a peculiar way of curing meat for preservation. they used to build a wooden grille or grating, raised upon poles some two or three feet high, above their camp fires. this grating was called by the indians barbecue. the meat to be preserved, were it ox, fish, wild boar, or human being, was then laid upon the grille. the fire underneath the grille was kept low, and fed with green sticks, and with the offal, hide, and bones of the slaughtered animal. this process was called boucanning, from an indian word "boucan," which seems to have signified "dried meat" and "camp-fire." buccaneer, in its original sense, meant one who practised the boucan. meat thus cured kept good for several months. it was of delicate flavour, "red as a rose," and of a tempting smell. it could be eaten without further cookery. sometimes the meat was cut into pieces, and salted, before it was boucanned--a practice which made it keep a little longer than it would otherwise have done. sometimes it was merely cut in strips, roughly rubbed with brine, and hung in the sun to dry into charqui, or jerked beef. the flesh of the wild hog made the most toothsome boucanned meat. it kept good a little longer than the beef, but it needed more careful treatment, as stowage in a damp lazaretto turned it bad at once. the hunters took especial care to kill none but the choicest wild boars for sea-store. lean boars and sows were never killed. many hunters, it seems, confined themselves to hunting boars, leaving the beeves as unworthy quarry. when hunting, the buccaneers went on foot, in small parties of four or five. the country in which they hunted was densely wooded, so that they could not ride. each huntsman carried a gun of a peculiar make, with a barrel four and a half feet long and a spade-shaped stock. the long barrel made the gun carry very true. for ramrods they carried three or four straight sticks of lance wood--a wood almost as hard as iron, and much more easily replaced. the balls used, weighed from one to two ounces apiece. the powder was of the very best make known. it was exported specially from normandy--a country which sent out many buccaneers, whose phrases still linger in the norman patois. for powder flask they used a hollow gourd, which was first dried in the sun. when it had dried to a fitting hardness it was covered with cuir-bouilli, or boiled leather, which made it watertight. a pointed stopper secured the mouth, and made a sort of handle to the whole, by which it could be secured to the strap which the hunter slung across his shoulders. each hunter carried a light tent, made of linen or thin canvas. the tents rolled up into a narrow compass, like a bandolier, so that they could be carried without trouble. the woods were so thick that the leggings of the huntsmen had to be of special strength. they were made of bull or boar hide, the hair worn outwards.[ ] moccasins, or shoes for hunting, were made of dressed bull's hide. the clothes worn at sea or while out hunting were "uniformly slovenly." a big heavy hat, wide in the brim and running up into a peak, protected the wearer from sunstroke. a dirty linen shirt, which custom decreed should not be washed, was the usual wear. it tucked into a dirty pair of linen drawers or knickerbockers, which garments were always dyed a dull red in the blood of the beasts killed. a sailor's belt went round the waist, with a long machete or sheath-knife secured to it at the back. such was the attire of a master hunter, buccaneer, or brother of the coast. many of them had valets or servants sent out to them from france for a term of three years. these valets were treated with abominable cruelty, and put to all manner of bitter labour. a valet who had served his time was presented with a gun and powder, two shirts and a hat--an equipment which enabled him to enter business on his own account. every hunting party was arranged on the system of share and share alike. the parties usually made their plans at the tortuga taverns. they agreed with the sugar and tobacco planters to supply the plantations with meat in exchange for tobacco. they then loaded up their valets with hunters' necessaries, and sailed for hispaniola. often they remained in the woods for a year or two, sending their servants to the coast from time to time with loads of meat and hides. they hunted, as a rule, without dogs, though some sought out the whelps of the wild mastiffs and trained them to hunt the boars. they stalked their quarry carefully, and shot it from behind a tree. in the evenings they boucanned their kill, pegged out the hides as tightly as they could, smoked a pipe or two about the fire, and prepared a glorious meal of marrow, "toute chaude"--their favourite dish. after supper they pitched their little linen tents, smeared their faces with grease to keep away the insects, put some wood upon the fire, and retired to sleep, with little thought of the beauty of the fireflies. they slept to leeward of the fires, and as near to them as possible, so that the smoke might blow over them, and keep off the mosquitoes. they used to place wet tobacco leaf and the leaves of certain plants among the embers in order that the smoke might be more pungent. [footnote : see burney, and exquemeling.] [illustration: a buccaneer's slave, with his master's gun a barbecue in right lower corner] when the hunt was over, the parties would return to the coast to dispose of all they carried home, and to receive all they had earned during their absence. it was a lucrative business, and two years' hunting in the woods brought to each hunter a considerable sum of money. as soon as they touched their cash, they retired to tortuga, where they bought new guns, powder, bullets, small shot, knives, and axes "against another going out or hunting." when the new munitions had been paid for, the buccaneers knew exactly how much money they could spend in self-indulgence. those who have seen a cowboy on a holiday, or a sailor newly home from the seas, will understand the nature of the "great liberality" these hunters practised on such occasions. one who saw a good deal of their way of life[ ] has written that their chief vice, or debauchery, was that of drunkenness, "which they exercise for the most part with brandy. this they drink as liberally as the spaniards do clear fountain water. sometimes they buy together a pipe of wine; this they stave at the one end, and never cease drinking till they have made an end of it. thus they celebrate the festivals of bacchus so long as they have any money left." the island of tortuga must have witnessed some strange scenes. we may picture a squalid little "cow town," with tropical vegetation growing up to the doors. a few rough bungalow houses, a few huts thatched with palm leaves, a few casks standing in the shade of pent roofs. to seaward a few ships of small tonnage lying at anchor. to landward hilly ground, broken into strips of tillage, where some wretches hoe tobacco under the lash. in the street, in the sunlight, lie a few savage dogs. at one of the houses, a buccaneer has just finished flogging his valet; he is now pouring lemon juice, mixed with salt and pepper, into the raw, red flesh. at another house, a gang of dirty men in dirty scarlet drawers are drinking turn about out of a pan of brandy. the reader may complete the sketch should he find it sufficiently attractive. [footnote : exquemeling.] when the buccaneers elected their first captain, they had made but few determined forays against the spaniards. the greater number of them were french cattle hunters dealing in boucanned meat, hides, and tallow. a few hunted wild boars; a few more planted tobacco of great excellence, with a little sugar, a little indigo, and a little manioc. among the company were a number of wild englishmen, of the stamp of oxenham, who made tortuga their base and pleasure-house, using it as a port from which to sally out to plunder spanish ships. after a cruise, these pirates sometimes went ashore for a month or two of cattle hunting. often enough, the french cattle hunters took their places on the ships. the sailors and huntsmen soon became amphibious, varying the life of the woods with that of a sailor, and sometimes relaxing after a cruise with a year's work in the tobacco fields. in , when the spanish made their raid, there were considerable numbers (certainly several hundreds) of men engaged in these three occupations. after the raid they increased in number rapidly; for after the raid they began to revenge themselves by systematic raids upon the spaniards--a business which attracted hundreds of young men from france and england. after the raid, too, the french and english governments began to treat the planters of the st kitts colony unjustly, so that many poor men were forced to leave their plots of ground there. these men left the colonies to join the buccaneers at tortuga, who soon became so numerous that they might have made an independent state had they but agreed among themselves. this they could not do, for the french had designs upon tortuga. a french garrison was landed on the island, seemingly to protect the french planters from the english, but in reality to seize the place for the french crown. another garrison encamped upon the coast of the larger island. the english were now in a position like that of the spar in the tale.[ ] they could no longer follow the business of cattle hunting; they could no longer find an anchorage and a ready market at tortuga. they were forced, therefore, to find some other rendezvous, where they could refit after a cruise upon the main. they withdrew themselves more and more from the french buccaneers, though the two parties frequently combined in enterprises of danger and importance. they seem to have relinquished tortuga without fighting. they were less attached to the place than the french. their holdings were fewer, and they had but a minor share in the cattle hunting. but for many years to come they regarded the french buccaneers with suspicion, as doubtful allies. when they sailed away from tortuga they sought out other haunts on islands partly settled by the english. [footnote : precarious, and not at all permanent.] in , when an english fleet under penn and venables came to the indies to attack the spaniards, a body of english buccaneers who had settled at barbadoes came in their ships to join the colours. in all, of them mustered, but the service they performed was of poor quality. the combined force attacked st domingo, and suffered a severe repulse. they then sailed for jamaica, which they took without much difficulty. the buccaneers found jamaica a place peculiarly suited to them: it swarmed with wild cattle; it had a good harbour; it lay conveniently for raids upon the main. they began to settle there, at port royal, with the troops left there by cromwell's orders. they planted tobacco and sugar, followed the boucan, and lived as they had lived in the past at hispaniola. whenever england was at war with spain the governor of the island gave them commissions to go privateering against the spanish. a percentage of the spoil was always paid to the governor, while the constant raiding on the main prevented the spaniards from attacking the new colony in force. the buccaneers were thus of great use to the colonial government. they brought in money to the treasury and kept the spanish troops engaged. the governors of the french islands acted in precisely the same way. they gave the french buccaneers every encouragement. when france was at peace with spain they sent to portugal ("which country was then at war with spain") for portuguese commissions, with which the buccaneer captains could go cruising. the english buccaneers often visited the french islands in order to obtain similar commissions. when england was at war with spain the french came to port royal for commissions from the english governor. it was not a very moral state of affairs; but the colonial governors argued that the buccaneers were useful, that they brought in money, and that they could be disowned at any time should spain make peace with all the interloping countries. the buccaneers now began "to make themselves redoubtable to the spaniards, and to spread riches and abundance in our colonies." they raided nueva segovia, took a number of spanish ships, and sacked maracaibo and western gibraltar. their captains on these raids were frenchmen and portuguese. the spoils they took were enormous, for they tortured every prisoner they captured until he revealed to them where he had hidden his gold. they treated the spaniards with every conceivable barbarity, nor were the spaniards more merciful when the chance offered. the buccaneers, french and english, had a number of peculiar customs or laws by which their strange society was held together. they seem to have had some definite religious beliefs, for we read of a french captain who shot a buccaneer "in the church" for irreverence at mass. no buccaneer was allowed to hunt or to cure meat upon a sunday. no crew put to sea upon a cruise without first going to church to ask a blessing on their enterprise. no crew got drunk, on the return to port after a successful trip, until thanks had been declared for the dew of heaven they had gathered. after a cruise, the men were expected to fling all their loot into a pile, from which the chiefs made their selection and division. each buccaneer was called upon to hold up his right hand, and to swear that he had not concealed any portion of the spoil. if, after making oath, a man were found to have secreted anything, he was bundled overboard, or marooned when the ship next made the land. each buccaneer had a mate or comrade, with whom he shared all things, and to whom his property devolved in the event of death.[ ] in many cases the partnership lasted during life. a love for his partner was usually the only tender sentiment a buccaneer allowed himself. [footnote : similar pacts of comradeship are made among merchant sailors to this day.] when a number of buccaneers grew tired of plucking weeds[ ] from the tobacco ground, and felt the allurement of the sea, and longed to go a-cruising, they used to send an indian, or a negro slave, to their fellows up the coast, inviting them to come to drink a dram with them. a day was named for the rendezvous, and a store was cleared, or a tobacco drying-house prepared, or perhaps a tent of sails was pitched, for the place of meeting. early on the morning fixed for the council, a barrel of brandy was rolled up for the refreshment of the guests, while the black slaves put some sweet potatoes in a net to boil for the gentlemen's breakfasts. presently a canoa or periagua would come round the headland from the sea, under a single sail--the topgallant-sail of some sunk spanish ship. in her would be some ten or a dozen men, of all countries, anxious for a cruise upon the main. some would be englishmen from the tobacco fields on sixteen-mile walk. one or two of them were broken royalists, of gentle birth, with a memory in their hearts of english country houses. others were irishmen from montserrat, the wretched kernes deported after the storm of tredah. some were french hunters from the hispaniola woods, with the tan upon their cheeks, and a habit of silence due to many lonely marches on the trail. the new-comers brought their arms with them: muskets with long single barrels, heavy pistols, machetes, or sword-like knives, and a cask or two of powder and ball. during the morning other parties drifted in. hunters, and planters, and old, grizzled seamen came swaggering down the trackways to the place of meeting. most of them were dressed in the dirty shirts and blood-stained drawers of the profession, but some there were who wore a scarlet cloak or a purple serape which had been stitched for a spaniard on the main. among the party were generally some indians from campeachy--tall fellows of a blackish copper colour, with javelins in their hands for the spearing of fish. all of this company would gather in the council chamber, where a rich planter sat at a table with some paper scrolls in front of him. [footnote : exquemeling gives many curious details of the life of these strange people. see the french edition of "histoire des avanturiers."] as soon as sufficient men had come to muster, the planter[ ] would begin proceedings by offering a certain sum of money towards the equipment of a roving squadron. the assembled buccaneers then asked him to what port he purposed cruising. he would suggest one or two, giving his reasons, perhaps bringing in an indian with news of a gold mine on the main, or of a treasure-house that might be sacked, or of a plate ship about to sail eastward. among these suggestions one at least was certain to be plausible. another buccaneer would then offer to lend a good canoa, with, perhaps, a cask or two of meat as sea-provision. others would offer powder and ball, money to purchase brandy for the voyage, or roll tobacco for the solace of the men. those who could offer nothing, but were eager to contribute and to bear a hand, would pledge themselves to pay a share of the expenses out of the profits of the cruise. when the president had written down the list of contributions he called upon the company to elect a captain. this was seldom a difficult matter, for some experienced sailor--a good fellow, brave as a lion, and fortunate in love and war--was sure to be among them. having chosen the captain, the company elected sailing masters, gunners, chirurgeons (if they had them), and the other officers necessary to the economy of ships of war. they then discussed the "lays" or shares to be allotted to each man out of the general booty. [footnote : exquemeling gives these details.] those who lent the ships and bore the cost of the provisioning, were generally allotted one-third of all the plunder taken. the captain received three shares, sometimes six or seven shares, according to his fortune. the minor officers received two shares apiece. the men or common adventurers received each one share. no plunder was allotted until an allowance had been made for those who were wounded on the cruise. compensation varied from time to time, but the scale most generally used was as follows[ ]:--"for the loss of a right arm six hundred pieces of eight, or six slaves; for the loss of a left arm five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves; for a right leg five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves; for a left leg four hundred pieces of eight, or four slaves; for an eye one hundred pieces of eight, or one slave; for a finger of the hand the same reward as for the eye." [footnote : exquemeling.] in addition to this compensation, a wounded man received a crown a day (say three shillings) for two months after the division of the spoil. if the booty were too little to allow of the declaration of a dividend, the wounded were put ashore at the port of rendezvous, and the adventurers kept the seas until they had enough to bring them home. in the years of buccaneer prosperity, when port royal was full of ruffians eager to go cruising, the proceedings may often have been less regular. a voyage was sometimes arranged in the taverns, where the gangs drank punch, or rumbo, a draught of rum and water (taken half-and-half, and sweetened with crude sugar) so long as their money lasted. if a gang had a ship, or the offer of a ship, and had but little silver left them from their last cruise, they would go aboard with their muskets, shot, and powder casks, trusting to fortune to obtain stores. nearly every ship's company had a mosquito indian, or more than one, to act as guide ashore, in places where a native's woodcraft was essential to a white man's safety. at sea these indians supplied the mariners with fish, for they were singularly skilful with the fish spear. when a gang of buccaneers put to sea without provisions, they generally steered to the feeding grounds of the sea-turtles, or to some place where the sea-cows, or manatees, were found.[ ] here the indians were sent out in small canoas, with their spears and tortoise irons. the spears were not unlike our modern harpoons. the tortoise irons were short, heavy arrow heads, which penetrated the turtle's shell when rightly thrown. the heads were attached to a stick, and to a cord which they made of a fibrous bark. when the blow had gone home, the stick came adrift, leaving the iron in the wound, with the cord still fast to it. when the turtles had been hauled aboard, their flesh was salted with the brine taken from the natural salt-pans to be found among the islands. when a manatee was killed, the hide was stripped away, and hung to dry. it was then cut into thongs, and put to various uses. the buccaneers made grummets, or rings, of it, for use in their row boats instead of tholes or rowlocks. the meat of manatee, though extremely delicate, did not take salt so readily as that of turtles. turtle was the stand-by of the hungry buccaneer when far from the main or the jamaican barbecues. in addition to the turtle they had a dish of fish whenever the indians were so fortunate as to find a shoal, or when the private fishing lines, of which each sailor carried several, were successful. two mosquito indians, it was said, could keep men in fish with no other weapons than their spears and irons. in coasting along the main, a buccaneer captain could always obtain sufficient food for his immediate need, for hardly any part of the coast was destitute of land-crabs, oysters, fruit, deer, peccary, or warree. but for a continued cruise with a large crew this hand-to-mouth supply was insufficient. [footnote : dampier.] the buccaneers sometimes began a cruise by sailing to an estancia in hispaniola, or on the main, where they might supply their harness casks with flesh. they used to attack these estancias, or "hog-yards," at night. they began by capturing the swine or cattle-herds, and threatening them with death should they refuse to give them the meat they needed. having chosen as many beeves or swine as seemed sufficient for their purpose, they kicked the herds for their pains, and put the meat in pickle.[ ] they then visited some other spanish house for a supply of rum or brandy, or a few hat-loads of sugar in the crude. tobacco they stole from the drying-rooms of planters they disliked. lemons, limes, and other anti-scorbutics they plucked from the trees, when fortune sent them to the coast. flour they generally captured from the spanish. they seldom were without a supply, for it is often mentioned as a marching ration--"a doughboy, or dumpling," boiled with fat, in a sort of heavy cake, a very portable and filling kind of victual. at sea their staple food was flesh--either boucanned meat or salted turtle. their allowance, "twice a day to every one," was "as much as he can eat, without either weight or measure." water and strong liquors were allowed (while they lasted) in the same liberal spirit. this reckless generosity was recklessly abused. meat and drink, so easily provided, were always improvidently spent. probably few buccaneer ships returned from a cruise with the hands on full allowance. the rule was "drunk and full, or dry and empty, to hell with bloody misers"--the proverb of the american merchant sailor of to-day. they knew no mean in anything. that which came easily might go lightly: there was more where that came from. [footnote : exquemeling.] when the ship had been thus victualled the gang went aboard her to discuss where they should go "to seek their desperate fortunes." the preliminary agreement was put in writing, much as in the former case, allotting each man his due share of the expected spoil. we read that the carpenter who "careened, mended, and rigged the vessel" was generally allotted a fee of from twenty-five to forty pounds for his pains--a sum drawn from the common stock or "purchase" subsequently taken by the adventurers. for the surgeon "and his chest of medicaments" they provided a "competent salary" of from fifty to sixty pounds. boys received half-a-share, "by reason that, when they take a better vessel than their own, it is the duty of the boys to set fire to the ship or boat wherein they are, and then retire to the prize which they have taken." all shares were allotted on the good old rule: "no prey, no pay," so that all had a keen incentive to bestir themselves. they were also "very civil and charitable to each other," observing "among themselves, very good orders." they sailed together like a company of brothers, or rather, since that were an imperfect simile, like a company of jolly comrades. locks and keys were forbidden among them, as they are forbidden in ship's fo'c's'les to this day; for every man was expected to show that he put trust in his mates. a man caught thieving from his fellow was whipped about the ship by all hands with little whips of ropeyarn or of fibrous maho bark. his back was then pickled with some salt, after which he was discharged the company. if a man were in want of clothes, he had but to ask a shipmate to obtain all he required. they were not very curious in the rigging or cleansing of their ships; nor did they keep watch with any regularity. they set their mosquito indians in the tops to keep a good lookout; for the indians were long-sighted folk, who could descry a ship at sea at a greater distance than a white man. they slept, as a rule, on "mats" upon the deck, in the open air. few of them used hammocks, nor did they greatly care if the rain drenched them as they lay asleep. after the raids of morgan, the buccaneers seem to have been more humane to the spaniards whom they captured. they treated them as drake treated them, with all courtesy. they discovered that the cutting out of prisoners' hearts, and eating of them raw without salt, as had been the custom of one of the most famous buccaneers, was far less profitable than the priming of a prisoner with his own aqua-vitæ. the later buccaneers, such as dampier, were singularly zealous in the collection of information of "the towns within leagues of the sea, on all the coast from trinidado down to la vera cruz; and are able to give a near guess of the strength and riches of them." for, as dampier says, "they make it their business to examine all prisoners that fall into their hands, concerning the country, town, or city that they belong to; whether born there, or how long they have known it? how many families? whether most spaniards? or whether the major part are not copper-colour'd, as mulattoes [people half white, half black], mustesoes [mestizos, or people half white, half indian. these are not the same as mustees, or octoroons], or indians? whether rich, and what their riches do consist in? and what their chiefest manufactures? if fortified, how many great guns, and what number of small arms? whether it is possible to come undescried on them? how many look-outs or centinels? for such the spaniards always keep; and how the look-outs are placed? whether possible to avoid the look-outs or take them? if any river or creek comes near it, or where the best landing? or numerous other such questions, which their curiosities lead them to demand. and if they have had any former discourse of such places from other prisoners, they compare one with the other; then examine again, and enquire if he or any of them, are capable to be guides to conduct a party of men thither: if not, where and how any prisoner may be taken that may do it, and from thence they afterwards lay their schemes to prosecute whatever design they take in hand." if, after such a careful questioning as that just mentioned, the rovers decided to attack a city on the main at some little distance from the sea, they would debate among themselves the possibility of reaching the place by river. nearly all the wealthy spanish towns were on a river, if not on the sea; and though the rivers were unwholesome, and often rapid, it was easier to ascend them in boats than to march upon their banks through jungle. if on inquiry it were found that the suggested town stood on a navigable river, the privateers would proceed to some island, such as st andreas, where they could cut down cedar-trees to make them boats. st andreas, like many west indian islands, was of a stony, sandy soil, very favourable to the growth of cedar-trees. having arrived at such an island, the men went ashore to cut timber. they were generally good lumbermen, for many buccaneers would go to cut logwood in campeachy when trade was slack. as soon as a cedar had been felled, the limbs were lopped away, and the outside rudely fashioned to the likeness of a boat. if they were making a periagua, they left the stern "flat"--that is, cut off sharply without modelling; if they were making a canoa, they pointed both ends, as a red indian points his birch-bark. the bottom of the boat in either case was made flat, for convenience in hauling over shoals or up rapids. the inside of the boat was hollowed out by fire, with the help of the indians, who were very expert at the management of the flame. for oars they had paddles made of ash or cedar plank, spliced to the tough and straight-growing lance wood, or to the less tough, but equally straight, white mangrove. thwarts they made of cedar plank. tholes or grummets for the oars they twisted out of manatee hide. having equipped their canoas or periaguas they secured them to the stern of their ship, and set sail towards their quarry. _authorities._--captain james burney: "voyages and discoveries in the south sea"; "history of the buccaneers." père charlevoix: "histoire de l'isle espagnole"; "histoire et description de la n. france." b. edwards: "historical survey of the island of san domingo." gage: "histoire de l'empire mexicain"; "the english american." s. hazard: "santo domingo, past and present." justin: "histoire politique de l'isle de haïti." cal. state papers: "america and west indies." abbé raynal: "history of the settlements and trades of the europeans in the east and west indies." a. o. exquemeling: "history of the buccaneers." a. de herrera: "description des indes occidentales (d'espagnol)." j. de acosta: "history of the indies." cieça de leon: "travels." chapter ix buccaneer customs mansvelt and morgan--morgan's raid on cuba--puerto del principe throughout the years of buccaneering, the buccaneers often put to sea in canoas and periaguas,[ ] just as drake put to sea in his three pinnaces. life in an open boat is far from pleasant, but men who passed their leisure cutting logwood at campeachy, or hoeing tobacco in jamaica, or toiling over gramma grass under a hot sun after cattle, were not disposed to make the worst of things. they would sit contentedly upon the oar bench, rowing with a long, slow stroke for hours together without showing signs of fatigue. nearly all of them were men of more than ordinary strength, and all of them were well accustomed to the climate. when they had rowed their canoa to the main they were able to take it easy till a ship came by from one of the spanish ports. if she seemed a reasonable prey, without too many guns, and not too high charged, or high built, the privateers would load their muskets, and row down to engage her. the best shots were sent into the bows, and excused from rowing, lest the exercise should cause their hands to tremble. a clever man was put to the steering oar, and the musketeers were bidden to sing out whenever the enemy yawed, so as to fire her guns. it was in action, and in action only, that the captain had command over his men. the steersman endeavoured to keep the masts of the quarry in a line, and to approach her from astern. the marksmen from the bows kept up a continual fire at the vessel's helmsmen, if they could be seen, and at any gun-ports which happened to be open. if the helmsmen could not be seen from the sea, the canoas aimed to row in upon the vessel's quarters, where they could wedge up the rudder with wooden chocks or wedges. they then laid her aboard over the quarter, or by the after chains, and carried her with their knives and pistols. the first man to get aboard received some gift of money at the division of the spoil. [footnote : dampier and exquemeling.] when the prize was taken, the prisoners were questioned, and despoiled. often, indeed, they were stripped stark naked, and granted the privilege of seeing their finery on a pirate's back. each buccaneer had the right to take a shift of clothes out of each prize captured. the cargo was then rummaged, and the state of the ship looked to, with an eye to using her as a cruiser. as a rule, the prisoners were put ashore on the first opportunity, but some buccaneers had a way of selling their captives into slavery. if the ship were old, leaky, valueless, in ballast, or with a cargo useless to the rovers, she was either robbed of her guns, and turned adrift with her crew, or run ashore in some snug cove, where she could be burnt for the sake of the iron-work. if the cargo were of value, and, as a rule, the ships they took had some rich thing aboard them, they sailed her to one of the dutch, french, or english settlements, where they sold her freight for what they could get--some tenth or twentieth of its value. if the ship were a good one, in good condition, well found, swift, and not of too great draught (for they preferred to sail in small ships), they took her for their cruiser as soon as they had emptied out her freight. they sponged and loaded her guns, brought their stores aboard her, laid their mats upon her deck, secured the boats astern, and sailed away in search of other plunder. they kept little discipline aboard their ships. what work had to be done they did, but works of supererogation they despised and rejected as a shade unholy. the night watches were partly orgies. while some slept, the others fired guns and drank to the health of their fellows. by the light of the binnacle, or by the light of the slush lamps in the cabin, the rovers played a hand at cards, or diced each other at "seven and eleven," using a pannikin as dice-box. while the gamblers cut and shuffled, and the dice rattled in the tin, the musical sang songs, the fiddlers set their music chuckling, and the sea-boots stamped approval. the cunning dancers showed their science in the moonlight, avoiding the sleepers if they could. in this jolly fashion were the nights made short. in the daytime, the gambling continued with little intermission; nor had the captain any authority to stop it. one captain, in the histories, was so bold as to throw the dice and cards overboard, but, as a rule, the captain of a buccaneer cruiser was chosen as an artist, or navigator, or as a lucky fighter. he was not expected to spoil sport. the continual gambling nearly always led to fights and quarrels. the lucky dicers often won so much that the unlucky had to part with all their booty. sometimes a few men would win all the plunder of the cruise, much to the disgust of the majority, who clamoured for a redivision of the spoil. if two buccaneers got into a quarrel they fought it out on shore at the first opportunity, using knives, swords, or pistols, according to taste. the usual way of fighting was with pistols, the combatants standing back to back, at a distance of ten or twelve paces, and turning round to fire at the word of command. if both shots missed, the question was decided with cutlasses, the man who drew first blood being declared the winner. if a man were proved to be a coward he was either tied to the mast, and shot, or mutilated, and sent ashore. no cruise came to an end until the company declared themselves satisfied with the amount of plunder taken. the question, like all other important questions, was debated round the mast, and decided by vote. at the conclusion of a successful cruise, they sailed for port royal, with the ship full of treasure, such as vicuna wool, packets of pearls from the hatch, jars of civet or of ambergris, boxes of "marmalett" and spices, casks of strong drink, bales of silk, sacks of chocolate and vanilla, and rolls of green cloth and pale blue cotton which the indians had woven in peru, in some sandy village near the sea, in sight of the pelicans and the penguins. in addition to all these things, they usually had a number of the personal possessions of those they had taken on the seas. lying in the chests for subsequent division were swords, silver-mounted pistols, daggers chased and inlaid, watches from spain, necklaces of uncut jewels, rings and bangles, heavy carved furniture, "cases of bottles" of delicately cut green glass, containing cordials distilled of precious mints, with packets of emeralds from brazil, bezoar stones from patagonia, paintings from spain, and medicinal gums from nicaragua. all these things were divided by lot at the main-mast as soon as the anchor held. as the ship, or ships, neared port, her men hung colours out--any colours they could find--to make their vessel gay. a cup of drink was taken as they sailed slowly home to moorings, and as they drank they fired off the cannon, "bullets and all," again and yet again, rejoicing as the bullets struck the water. up in the bay, the ships in the harbour answered with salutes of cannon; flags were dipped and hoisted in salute; and so the anchor dropped in some safe reach, and the division of the spoil began. [illustration: old port royal] after the division of the spoil in the beautiful port royal harbour, in sight of the palm-trees and the fort with the colours flying, the buccaneers packed their gear, and dropped over the side into a boat. they were pulled ashore by some grinning black man with a scarlet scarf about his head and the brand of a hot iron on his shoulders. at the jetty end, where the indians lounged at their tobacco and the fishermen's canoas rocked, the sunburnt pirates put ashore. among the noisy company which always gathers on a pier they met with their companions. a sort of roman triumph followed, as the "happily returned" lounged swaggeringly towards the taverns. eager hands helped them to carry in their plunder. in a few minutes the gang was entering the tavern, the long, cool room with barrels round the walls, where there were benches and a table and an old blind fiddler jerking his elbow at a jig. noisily the party ranged about the table, and sat themselves upon the benches, while the drawers, or potboys, in their shirts, drew near to take the orders. i wonder if the reader has ever heard a sailor in the like circumstance, five minutes after he has touched his pay, address a company of parasites in an inn with the question: "what's it going to be?" after the settlement of jamaica by the english, the buccaneers became more enterprising. one buccaneer captain, the most remarkable of all of them, a man named mansvelt, probably a dutchman from curaçoa, attempted to found a pirate settlement upon the island of santa katalina, or old providence. mansvelt was a fortunate sea-captain, with considerable charm of manner. he was popular with the buccaneers, and had a name among them, for he was the first of them to cross the isthmus and to sail the south sea. his south-sea cruise had come to little, for provisions ran short, and his company had been too small to attempt a spanish town. he had, therefore, retreated to the north sea to his ships, and had then gone cruising northward along the nicaragua coast as far as the blewfields river. from this point he stood away to the island of santa katalina, or old providence--an island about six miles long, with an excellent harbour, which, he thought, might easily be fortified. a smaller island lies directly to the north of it, separated from it by a narrow channel of the sea. twenty years before his visit it had been the haunt of an old captain of the name of blewfields, who had made it his base while his men went logwood cutting on the mainland. blewfields was now dead, either of rum or war, and the spaniards had settled there, and had built themselves a fort or castle to command the harbour. having examined the place, mansvelt sailed away to jamaica to equip a fleet to take it. he saw that the golden times which the buccaneers were then enjoying could not last for ever, and that their occupation might be wrecked by a single ill-considered treaty, dated from st james's or the court of france. he thought that the islands should be seized as a general rendezvous for folk of that way of life. with a little trouble the harbour could be made impregnable. the land was good, and suited for the growing of maize or tobacco--the two products most in demand among them. the islands were near the main, being only thirty-five leagues from the chagres river, the stream from which the golden harvest floated from the cities of the south. they were close to the coast of nicaragua, where the logwood grew in clumps, waiting for the axes of the lumbermen. with the islands in their hands, the buccaneers could drive the spaniards off the isthmus--or so mansvelt thought. it would at anyrate have been an easy matter for them to have wrecked the trade routes from panama to porto bello, and from porto bello to vera cruz. while mansvelt lay at port royal, scraping and tallowing his ships, getting beef salted and boucanned, and drumming up his men from the taverns, a welshman, of the name of henry morgan, came sailing up to moorings with half-a-dozen captured merchantmen. but a few weeks before, he had come home from a cruise with a little money in his pockets. he had clubbed together with some shipmates, and had purchased a small ship with the common fund. she was but meanly equipped, yet her first cruise to the westward, on the coast of campeachy, was singularly lucky. mansvelt at once saw his opportunity to win recruits. a captain so fortunate as morgan would be sure to attract followers, for the buccaneers asked that their captains should be valorous and lucky. for other qualities, such as prudence and forethought, they did not particularly care. mansvelt at once went aboard morgan's ship to drink a cup of sack with him in the cabin. he asked him to act as vice-admiral to the fleet he was then equipping for santa katalina. to this henry morgan very readily consented, for he judged that a great company would be able to achieve great things. in a few days, the two set sail together from port royal, with a fleet of fifteen ships, manned by buccaneers, many of whom were french and dutch. as soon as they arrived at santa katalina, they anchored, and sent their men ashore with some heavy guns. the spanish garrison was strong, and the fortress well situated, but in a few days they forced it to surrender. they then crossed by a bridge of boats to the lesser island to the north, where they ravaged the plantations for fresh supplies. having blown up all the fortifications save the castle, they sent the spanish prisoners aboard the ships. they then chose out trusty men to keep the island for them. they left these on the island, under the command of a frenchman of the name of le sieur simon. they also left the spanish slaves behind, to work the plantations, and to grow maize and sweet potatoes for the future victualling of the fleet. mansvelt then sailed away towards porto bello, near which city he put his prisoners ashore. he cruised to the eastward for some weeks, snapping up provision ships and little trading vessels; but he learned that the governor of panama, a determined and very gallant soldier, was fitting out an army to encounter him, should he attempt to land. the news may have been false, but it showed the buccaneers that they were known to be upon the coast, and that their raid up "the river of colla" to "rob and pillage" the little town of nata, on the bay of panama, would be fruitless. the spanish residents of little towns like nata buried all their gold and silver, and then fled into the woods when rumours of the pirates came to them. to attack such a town some weeks after the townsfolk had received warning of their intentions would have been worse than useless. mansvelt, therefore, returned to santa katalina to see how the colony had prospered while he had been at sea. he found that le sieur simon had put the harbour "in a very good posture of defence," having built a couple of batteries to command the anchorage. in these he had mounted his cannon upon platforms of plank, with due munitions of cannon-balls and powder. on the little island to the north he had laid out plantations of maize, sweet potatoes, plantains, and tobacco. the first-fruits of these green fields were now ripe, and "sufficient to revictual the whole fleet with provisions and fruits." mansvelt was so well satisfied with the prospects of the colony that he determined to hurry back to jamaica to beg recruits and recognition from the english governor. the islands had belonged to english subjects in the past, and of right belonged to england still. however, the jamaican governor disliked the scheme. he feared that by lending his support he would incur the wrath of the english government, while he could not weaken his position in jamaica by sending soldiers from his garrison. mansvelt, "seeing the unwillingness" of this un-english governor, at once made sail for tortuga, where he hoped the french might be less squeamish. he dropped anchor, in the channel between tortuga and hispaniola early in the summer of . he seems to have gone ashore to see the french authorities. perhaps he drank too strong a punch of rum and sugar--a drink very prejudicial in such a climate to one not used to it. perhaps he took the yellow fever, or the coast cramp; the fact cannot now be known. at any rate he sickened, and died there, "before he could accomplish his desires"--"all things hereby remaining in suspense." one account, based on the hearsay of a sea-captain, says that mansvelt was taken by the spaniards, and brought to porto bello, and there put to death by the troops. le sieur simon remained at his post, hoeing his tobacco plants, and sending detachments to the main to kill manatee, or to cut logwood. he looked out anxiously for mansvelt's ships, for he had not men enough to stand a siege, and greatly feared that the spaniards would attack him. while he stayed in this perplexity, wondering why he did not hear from mansvelt, he received a letter from don john perez de guzman, the spanish captain-general, who bade him "surrender the island to his catholic majesty," on pain of severe punishment. to this le sieur simon made no answer, for he hoped that mansvelt's fleet would soon be in those waters to deliver him from danger. don john, who was a very energetic captain-general, determined to retake the place. he left his residence at panama, and crossed the isthmus to porto bello, where he found a ship, called the _st vincent_, "that belonged to the company of the negroes" (the isthmian company of slavers), lying at anchor, waiting for a freight. we are told that she was a good ship, "well mounted with guns." he provisioned her for the sea, and manned her with about men, mostly soldiers from the porto bello forts. among the company were seven master gunners and "twelve indians very dexterous at shooting with bows and arrows." the city of cartagena furnished other ships and men, bringing the squadron to a total of four vessels and men-at-arms. with this force the spanish commander arrived off santa katalina, coming to anchor in the port there on the evening of a windy day, the th of august . as they dropped anchor they displayed their colours. as soon as the yellow silk blew clear, le sieur simon discharged "three guns with bullets" at the ships, "the which were soon answered in the same coin." the spaniard then sent a boat ashore to summon the garrison, threatening death to all if the summons were refused. to this le sieur simon replied that the island was a possession of the english crown, "and that, instead of surrendering it, they preferred to lose their lives." as more than a fourth of the little garrison was at that time hunting on the main, or at sea, the answer was heroic. three days later, some negroes swam off to the ships to tell the spaniards of the garrison's weakness. after two more days of council, the boats were lowered from the ships, and manned with soldiers. the guns on the gun-decks were loaded, and trained. the drums beat to quarters both on the ships and in the batteries. under the cover of the warship's guns, the boats shoved off towards the landing-place, receiving a furious fire from the buccaneers. the "weather was very calm and clear," so that the smoke from the guns did not blow away fast enough to allow the buccaneers to aim at the boats. the landing force formed into three parties, two of which attacked the flanks, and the third the centre. the battle was very furious, though the buccaneers were outnumbered and had no chance of victory. they ran short of cannon-balls before they surrendered, but they made shift for a time with small shot and scraps of iron, "also the organs of the church," of which they fired "threescore pipes" at a shot. the fighting lasted most of the day, for it was not to the advantage of the spaniards to come to push of pike. towards sunset the buccaneers were beaten from their guns. they fought in the open for a few minutes, round "the gate called costadura," but the spaniards surrounded them, and they were forced to lay down their arms. the spanish colours were set up, and two poor spaniards who had joined the buccaneers were shot to death upon the plaza. the english prisoners were sent aboard the ships, and carried into porto bello, where they were put to the building of a fortress--the iron castle, a place of great strength, which later on the english blew to pieces. some of the men were sent to panama "to work in the castle of st jerome"--a wonderful, great castle, which was burned at the sack of panama almost before the mortar dried. while the guns were roaring over santa katalina, as le sieur simon rammed his cannon full of organ pipes, henry morgan was in lodgings at port royal, greatly troubled at the news of mansvelt's death. he was busily engaged at the time with letters to the merchants of new england. he was endeavouring to get their help towards the fortification of the island he had helped to capture. "his principal intent," writes one who did not love the man, "was to consecrate it as a refuge and sanctuary to the pirates of those parts," making it "a convenient receptacle or store house of their preys and robberies." it is pleasant to speculate as to the reasons he urged to the devout new england puritans. he must have chuckled to himself, and shared many a laugh with his clerk, to think that perhaps a levite, or a man of god, a deacon, or an elder, would untie the purse-strings of the sealed if he did but agonise about the spanish inquisition with sufficient earthquake and eclipse. he heard of the loss of the island before the answers came to him, and the news, of course, "put him upon new designs," though he did not abandon the scheme in its entirety. he had his little fleet at anchor in the harbour, gradually fitting for the sea, and his own ship was ready. having received his commission from the governor, he gave his captains orders to meet him on the cuban coast, at one of the many inlets affording safe anchorage. here, after several weeks of cruising, he was joined by "a fleet of twelve sail," some of them of several hundred tons. these were manned by fighting men, part french, part english. at the council of war aboard the admiral's ship, it was suggested that so large a company should venture on havana, which city, they thought, might easily be taken, "especially if they could but take a few of the ecclesiastics." some of the pirates had been prisoners in the havana, and knew that a town of , inhabitants would hardly yield to men, however desperate. "nothing of consequence could be done there," they pronounced, even with ecclesiastics, "unless with fifteen hundred men." one of the pirates then suggested the town of puerto del principe, an inland town surrounded by tobacco fields, at some distance from the sea. it did a thriving trade with the havana; and he who suggested that it should be sacked, affirmed upon his honour, like boult over maria, that it never yet "was sacked by any pirates." towards this virginal rich town the buccaneers proceeded, keeping close along the coast until they made the anchorage of santa maria. here they dropped anchor for the night. when the men were making merry over the punch, as they cleaned their arms, and packed their satchels, a spanish prisoner "who had overheard their discourse, while they thought he did not understand the english tongue," slipped through a port-hole to the sea, and swam ashore. by some miracle he escaped the ground sharks, and contrived to get to puerto del principe some hours before the pirates left their ships. the governor of the town, to whom he told his story, at once raised all his forces, "both freemen and slaves," to prejudice the enemy when he attacked. the forest ways were blocked with timber baulks, and several ambuscades were laid, with cannon in them, "to play upon them on their march." in all, he raised and armed men, whom he disposed in order, either in the jungle at the ambuscades or in a wide expanse of grass which surrounded the town. in due course morgan sent his men ashore, and marched them through the wood towards the town. they found the woodland trackways blocked by the timber baulks, so they made a detour, hacking paths for themselves with their machetes, until they got clear of the wood. when they got out of the jungle they found themselves on an immense green field, covered with thick grass, which bowed and shivered in the wind. a few pale cattle grazed here and there on the savannah; a few birds piped and twittered in the sunshine. in front of them, at some little distance, was the town they had come to pillage. it lay open to them--a cluster of houses, none of them very large, with warehouses and tobacco drying-rooms and churches with bells in them. outside the town, some of them lying down, some standing so as to get a view of the enemy, were the planters and townsfolk, with their pikes and muskets, waiting for the battle to begin. right in the pirates' front was a troop of horsemen armed with lances, swords, and pistols, drawn up in very good order, and ready to advance. the pirates on their coming from the wood formed into a semicircle or half-moon shape, the bow outwards, the horns curving to prevent the cavalry from taking them in flank. they had drums and colours in their ranks. the drums beat out a bravery, the colours were displayed. the men halted for a moment to get their breath and to reprime their guns. then they advanced slowly, to the drubbing of the drums, just as the spanish horsemen trotted forward. as the spaniards sounded the charge, the buccaneers fired a volley of bullets at them, which brought a number of cavaliers out of their saddles. those horsemen who escaped the bullets dashed down upon the line, and fired their pistols at close quarters, afterwards wheeling round, and galloping back to reform. they charged again and again, "like valiant and courageous soldiers," but at every charge the pirates stood firm, and withered them with file-firing. as they retired after each rush, the marksmen in the ranks picked them off one by one, killing the governor, in his plumed hat, and strewing the grass with corpses. they also manoeuvred during this skirmish so as to cut off the horsemen from the town. after four hours of battle the cavalry were broken and defeated, and in no heart to fight further. they made a last charge on their blown horses, but their ranks went to pieces at the muzzles of the pirates' guns. they broke towards the cover of the woods, but the pirates charged them as they ran, and cut them down without pity. then the drums beat out a bravery, and the pirates rushed the town in the face of a smart fire. the spaniards fought in the streets, while some fired from the roofs and upper windows. so hot was the tussle that the pirates had to fight from house to house. the townsmen did not cease their fire, till the pirates were gathering wood to burn the town, in despair of taking it. [illustration: puerto del principe] as soon as the firing ceased, the townsfolk were driven to the churches, and there imprisoned under sentinels. afterwards the pirates "searched the whole country round about the town, bringing in day by day many goods and prisoners, with much provision." the wine and spirits of the townsfolk were set on tap, and "with this they fell to banqueting among themselves, and making great cheer after their customary way." they feasted so merrily that they forgot their prisoners, "whereby the greatest part perished." those who did not perish were examined in the plaza, "to make them confess where they had hidden their goods." those who would not tell where they had buried their gold were tortured very barbarously by burning matches, twisted cords, or lighted palm leaves. finally, the starving wretches were ordered to find ransoms, "else they should be all transported to jamaica" to be sold as slaves. the town was also laid under a heavy contribution, without which, they said, "they would turn every house into ashes." it happened that, at this juncture, some buccaneers, who were raiding in the woods, made prisoner a negro carrying letters from the governor of the havana. the letters were written to the citizens, telling them to delay the payment of their ransoms as long as possible, for that he was fitting out some soldiers to relieve them. the letters warned henry morgan that he had better be away with the treasure he had found. he gave order for the plunder to be sent aboard in the carts of the townsfolk. he then called up the prisoners, and told them very sharply that their ransoms must be paid the next day, "forasmuch as he would not wait one moment longer, but reduce the whole town to ashes, in case they failed to perform the sum he demanded." as it was plainly impossible for the townsfolk to produce their ransoms at this short notice he graciously relieved their misery by adding that he would be contented with beeves, "together with sufficient salt wherewith to salt them." he insisted that the cattle should be ready for him by the next morning, and that the spaniards should deliver them upon the beach, where they could be shifted to the ships without delay. having made these terms, he marched his men away towards the sea, taking with him six of the principal prisoners "as pledges of what he intended." early the next morning the beach of santa maria bay was thronged with cattle in charge of negroes and planters. some of the oxen had been yoked to carts to bring the necessary salt. the spaniards delivered the ransom, and demanded the six hostages. morgan was by this time in some anxiety for his position. he was eager to set sail before the havana ships came round the headland, with their guns run out, and matches lit, and all things ready for a fight. he refused to release the prisoners until the vaqueros "had helped his men to kill and salt the beeves." the work of killing and salting was performed "in great haste," lest the havana ships should come upon them before the beef was shipped. the hides were left upon the sands, there being no time to dry them before sailing. a spanish cowboy can kill, skin, and cut up a steer in a few minutes. the buccaneers were probably no whit less skilful. by noon the work was done. the beach of santa maria was strewn with mangled remnants, over which the seagulls quarrelled. but before morgan could proceed to sea, he had to quell an uproar which was setting the french and english by the ears. the parties had not come to blows, but the french were clamouring for vengeance with drawn weapons. a french sailor, who was working on the beach, killing and pickling the meat, had been plundered by an englishman, who "took away the marrowbones he had taken out of the ox." marrow, "toute chaude," was a favourite dish among these people. the frenchman could not brook an insult of a kind as hurtful to his dinner as to his sense of honour. he challenged the thief to single combat: swords the weapon, the time then. the buccaneers knocked off their butcher's work to see the fight. as the poor frenchman turned his back to make him ready, his adversary stabbed him from behind, running him quite through, so that "he suddenly fell dead upon the place." instantly the beach was in an uproar. the frenchmen pressed upon the english to attack the murderer and to avenge the death of their fellow. there had been bad blood between the parties ever since they mustered at the quays before the raid began. the quarrel now raging was an excuse to both sides. morgan walked between the angry groups, telling them to put up their swords. at a word from him, the murderer was seized, set in irons, and sent aboard an english ship. morgan then seems to have made a little speech to pacify the rioters, telling the french that the man should be hanged ("hanged immediately," as they said of admiral byng) as soon as the ships had anchored in port royal bay. to the english, he said that the criminal was worthy of punishment, "for although it was permitted him to challenge his adversary, yet it was not lawful to kill him treacherously, as he did." after a good deal of muttering, the mutineers returned aboard their ships, carrying with them the last of the newly salted beef. the hostages were freed, a gun was fired from the admiral's ship, and the fleet hove up their anchors, and sailed away from cuba, to some small sandy quay with a spring of water in it, where the division of the plunder could be made. the plunder was heaped together in a single pile. it was valued by the captains, who knew by long experience what such goods would fetch in the jamaican towns. to the "resentment and grief" of all the men these valuers could not bring the total up to , pieces of eight--say £ , --"in money and goods." all hands were disgusted at "such a small booty, which was not sufficient to pay their debts at jamaica." some cursed their fortune; others cursed their captain. it does not seem to have occurred to them to blame themselves for talking business before their spanish prisoners. morgan told them to "think upon some other enterprize," for the ships were fit to keep the sea, and well provisioned. it would be an easy matter, he told them, to attack some town upon the main "before they returned home," so that they should have a little money for the taverns, to buy them rum with, at the end of the cruise. but the french were still sore about the murder of their man: they raised objections to every scheme the english buccaneers proposed. each proposition was received contemptuously, with angry bickerings and mutterings. at last the french captains intimated that they desired to part company. captain morgan endeavoured to dissuade them from this resolution by using every flattery his adroit nature could suggest. finding that they would not listen to him, even though he swore by his honour that the murderer, then in chains, should be hanged as soon as they reached home, he brought out wine and glasses, and drank to their good fortune. the booty was then shared up among the adventurers. the frenchmen got their shares aboard, and set sail for tortuga to the sound of a salute of guns. the english held on for port royal, in great "resentment and grief." when they arrived there they caused the murderer to be hanged upon a gallows, which, we are told, "was all the satisfaction the french pirates could expect." _note._--if we may believe morgan's statement to sir t. modyford, then governor of jamaica, he brought with him from cuba reliable evidence that the spaniards were planning an attack upon that colony (see state papers: west indies and colonial series). if the statements of his prisoners were correct, the subsequent piratical raid upon the main had some justification. had the spaniards matured their plans, and pushed the attack home, it is probable that we should have lost our west indian possessions. _authorities._--a. o. exquemeling: "bucaniers of america," eds. - and . cal. state papers: "west indies." chapter x the sack of porto bello the gulf of maracaibo--morgan's escape from the spaniards it was a melancholy home-coming. the men had little more than ten pounds apiece to spend in jollity. the merchants who enjoyed their custom were of those kinds least anxious to give credit. the ten pounds were but sufficient to stimulate desire. they did not allow the jolly mariner to enjoy himself with any thoroughness. in a day or two, the buccaneers were at the end of their gold, and had to haunt the street corners, within scent of the rum casks, thinking sadly of the pleasant liquor they could not afford to drink. henry morgan took this occasion to recruit for a new enterprise. he went ashore among the drinking-houses, telling all he met of golden towns he meant to capture. he always "communicated vigour with his words," for, being a welshman, he had a certain fervour of address, not necessarily sincere, which touched his simplest phrase with passion. in a day or two, after a little talk and a little treating, every disconsolate drunkard in the town was "persuaded by his reasons, that the sole execution of his orders, would be a certain means of obtaining great riches." this persuasion, the writer adds, "had such influence upon their minds, that with inimitable courage they all resolved to follow him." even "a certain pirate of campeachy," a shipowner of considerable repute, resolved to follow morgan "to seek new fortunes and greater advantages than he had found before." the french might hold aloof, they all declared, but an englishman was still the equal of a spaniard; while after all a short life and a merry one was better than work ashore or being a parson. with this crude philosophy, they went aboard again to the decks they had so lately left. the campeachy pirate brought in a ship or two, and some large canoas. in all they had a fleet of nine sail, manned by "four hundred and three score military men." with this force captain morgan sailed for costa rica. when they came within the sight of land, a council was called, to which the captains of the vessels went. morgan told them that he meant to plunder porto bello by a night attack, "being resolved" to sack the place, "not the least corner escaping his diligence." he added that the scheme had been held secret, so that "it would not fail to succeed well." besides, he thought it likely that a city of such strength would be unprepared for any sudden attack. the captains were staggered by this resolution, for they thought themselves too weak "to assault so strong and great a city." to this the plucky welshman answered: "if our number is small, our hearts are great. and the fewer persons we are, the more union and better shares we shall have in the spoil." this answer, with the thought of "those vast riches they promised themselves," convinced the captains that the town could be attempted. it was a "dangerous voyage and bold assault" but morgan had been lucky in the past, and the luck might still be with him. he knew the porto bello country, having been there with a party (perhaps mansvelt's party) some years before. at any rate the ships would be at hand in the event of a repulse. it was something of a hazard, for the spanish garrison was formed of all the desperate criminals the colonial police could catch. these men made excellent soldiers, for after a battle they were given the plunder of the men they had killed. then panama, with its great garrison, was perilously near at hand, being barely sixty miles away, or two days' journey. lastly, the town was strongly fortified, with castles guarding it at all points. the garrison was comparatively small, mustering about three companies of foot. to these, however, the buccaneers had to add townsfolk capable of bearing arms. following john exquemeling's plan, we add a brief description of this famous town, to help the reader to form a mental picture of it. porto bello stands on the south-eastern side of a fine bay, "in the province of costa rica." at the time when morgan captured it (in june ) it was one of the strongest cities in the possession of the king of spain. it was neglected until , when a royal mandate caused the traders of nombre de dios to migrate thither. it then became the port of the galleons,[ ] where the treasures of the south were shipped for spain. the city which morgan sacked was built upon a strip of level ground planted with fruit-trees, at a little distance from the sea, but within a few yards of the bay. the westward half of the town was very stately, being graced with fine stone churches and the residence of the lieutenant-general. most of the merchants' dwellings (and of these there may have been ) were built of cedar wood. some were of stone, a thing unusual in the indies, and some were partly stone, with wooden upper storeys. there was a fine stone convent peopled by sisters of mercy, and a dirty, ruinous old hospital for "the sick men belonging to the ships of war." on the shore there was a quay, backed by a long stone custom-house. the main street ran along the shore behind this custom-house, with cross-streets leading to the two great squares. the eastward half of the city, through which the road to panama ran, was called guinea; for there the slaves and negroes used to live, in huts and cottages of sugar-cane and palm leaves. there, too, was the slave mart, to which the cargoes of the guinea ships were brought. a little river of clear water divided the two halves of the town. another little river, bridged in two places, ran between the town and castle gloria. the place was strongly fortified. ships entering the bay had to pass close to the "iron castle," built upon the western point. directly they stood away towards the town they were exposed to the guns of castle gloria and fort jeronimo--the latter a strong castle built upon a sandbank off the guinea town. the constant population was not large, though probably white men lived there all the year round, in addition to the spanish garrison. the native quarter was generally inhabited by several hundred negroes and mulattoes. when the galleons arrived there, and for some weeks before, the town was populous with merchants, who came across from panama to buy and sell. tents were pitched in the grand plaza, in front of the governor's house, for the protection of perishable goods, like jesuits'-bark. gold and silver bars became as common to the sight as pebbles. droves of mules came daily in from panama, and ships arrived daily from all the seaports in the indies. as soon as the galleons sailed for spain, the city emptied as rapidly as it had filled. it was too unhealthy a place for white folk, who continued there "no longer than was needful to acquire a fortune." [footnote : with reservations. see p. , _note_.] [illustration: porto bello circa . showing the situation and defences of the city] indeed, porto bello was one of the most pestilential cities ever built, "by reason of the unhealthiness of the air, occasioned by certain vapours that exhale from the mountains." it was excessively hot, for it lay (as it still lies) in a well, surrounded by hills, "without any intervals to admit the refreshing gales." it was less marshy than nombre de dios, but "the sea, when it ebbs, leaves a vast quantity of black, stinking mud, from whence there exhales an intolerable noisome vapour." at every fair-time "a kind of pestilential fever" raged, so that at least folk were buried there annually during the five or six weeks of the market. the complaint may have been yellow fever; (perhaps the cholera), perhaps pernicious fever, aggravated by the dirty habits of the thousands then packed within the town. the mortality was especially heavy among the sailors who worked aboard the galleons, hoisting in or out the bales of merchandise. these mariners drank brandy very freely "to recruit their spirits," and in other ways exposed themselves to the infection. the drinking water of the place was "too fine and active for the stomachs of the inhabitants," who died of dysentery if they presumed to drink of it. the town smoked in a continual steam of heat, unrelieved even by the torrents of rain which fall there every day. the woods are infested with poisonous snakes, and abound in a sort of large toad or frog which crawls into the city after rains. the tigers "often make incursions into the street," as at nombre de dios, to carry off children and domestic animals. there was good fishing in the bay, and the land was fertile "beyond wonder," so that the cost of living there, in the _tiempo muerto_, was very small. there is a hill behind the town called the capiro, about which the streamers of the clouds wreathe whenever rain is coming. the town was taken by sir francis drake in , by captain parker in , by morgan in , by coxon in , and by admiral vernon in . having told his plans, the admiral bade his men make ready. during the afternoon he held towards the west of porto bello, at some distance from the land. the coast up to the chagres river, and for some miles beyond, is low, so that there was not much risk of the ships being sighted from the shore. as it grew darker, he edged into the land, arriving "in the dusk of the evening" at a place called puerto de naos, or port of ships, a bay midway between porto bello and the chagres, and about ten leagues from either place. they sailed westward up the coast for a little distance to a place called puerto pontin, where they anchored. here the pirates got their boats out, and took to the oars, "leaving in the ships only a few men to keep them, and conduct them the next day to the port." by the light of lamps and battle lanterns the boats rowed on through the darkness, till at midnight they had came to a station called estera longa lemos, a river-mouth a few miles from porto bello, "where they all went on shore." after priming their muskets, they set forth towards the city, under the guidance of an english buccaneer, who had been a prisoner at porto bello but a little while before. when they were within a mile or two of the town, they sent this englishmen with three or four companions to take a solitary sentry posted at the city outskirts. if they could not take him, they were to kill him, but without giving the alarm to the inhabitants. by creeping quietly behind him, the party took the sentry, "with such cunning that he had no time to give warning with his musket, or make any other noise." a knife point pressing on his spine, and a gag of wood across his tongue, warned him to attempt no outcry. some rope-yarn was passed about his wrists, and in this condition he was dragged to captain morgan. as soon as he was in the admiral's presence, he was questioned as to the number of soldiers then in the forts, "with many other circumstances." it must have been a most uncomfortable trial, for "after every question, they made him a thousand menaces to kill him, in case he declared not the truth." when they had examined him to their satisfaction, they recommenced their march, "carrying always the said sentry bound before them." another mile brought them to an outlying fortress, which was built apparently between porto bello and the sea, to protect the coast road and a few outlying plantations. it was not yet light, so the pirates crept about the fort unseen, "so that no person could get either in or out." when they had taken up their ground, morgan bade the captured sentry hail the garrison, charging them to surrender on pain of being cut to pieces. the garrison at once ran to their weapons, and opened a fierce fire on the unseen enemy, thus giving warning to the city that the pirates were attacking. before they could reload, the buccaneers, "the noble sparks of venus," stormed in among them, taking them in their confusion, hardly knowing what was toward. morgan was furious that the spaniards had not surrendered at discretion on his challenge. the pirates were flushed with the excitement of the charge. someone proposed that they "should be as good as their words, in putting the spaniards to the sword, thereby to strike a terror into the rest of the city." they hustled the spanish soldiers "into one room," officers and men together. the cellars of the fort were filled with powder barrels. some ruffian took a handful of the powder, and spilled a train along the ground, telling his comrades to stand clear. his mates ran from the building applauding his device. in another moment the pirate blew upon his musket match to make the end red, and fired the train he had laid, "and blew up the whole castle into the air, with all the spaniards that were within." "much the better way of the two," says one of the chroniclers, who saw the explosion. "this being done," says the calm historian, "they pursued the course of their victory" into the town. by this time, the streets were thronged with shrieking townsfolk. men ran hither and thither with their poor belongings. many flung their gold and jewels into wells and cisterns, or stamped them underground, "to excuse their being totally robbed." the bells were set clanging in the belfries; while, to increase the confusion, the governor rode into the streets, calling on the citizens to rally and stand firm. as the dreadful panic did not cease, he rode out of the mob to one of the castles (castle gloria), where the troops were under arms. it was now nearly daybreak, or light enough for them to see their enemy. as the pirates came in sight among the fruit-trees, the governor trained his heavy guns upon them, and opened a smart fire. some lesser castles, or the outlying works of castle gloria, which formed the outer defences of the town, followed his example; nor could the pirates silence them. one party of buccaneers crept round the fortifications to the town, where they attacked the monastery and the convent, breaking into both with little trouble, and capturing a number of monks and nuns. with these they retired to the pirates' lines. for several hours, the pirates got no farther, though the fire did not slacken on either side. the pirates lay among the scrub, hidden in the bushes, in little knots of two and three. they watched the castle embrasures after each discharge of cannon, for the spaniards could not reload without exposing themselves as they sponged or rammed. directly a spaniard appeared, he was picked off from the bushes with such precision that they lost "one or two men every time they charged each gun anew." the losses on the english side were fully as severe; for, sheltered though they were, the buccaneers lost heavily. the lying still under a hot sun was galling to the pirates' temper. they made several attempts to storm, but failed in each attempt owing to the extreme gallantry of the defence. towards noon they made a furious attack, carrying fireballs, or cans filled with powder and resin, in their hands "designing, if possible, to burn the doors of the castle." as they came beneath the walls, the spaniards rolled down stones upon them, with "earthen pots full of powder" and iron shells filled full of chain-shot, "which forced them to desist from that attempt." morgan's party was driven back with heavy loss. it seemed to morgan at this crisis that the victory was with the spanish. he wavered for some minutes, uncertain whether to call off his men. "many faint and calm meditations came into his mind" seeing so many of his best hands dead and the spanish fire still so furious. as he debated "he was suddenly animated to continue the assault, by seeing the english colours put forth at one of the lesser castles, then entered by his men." a few minutes later the conquerors came swaggering up to join him, "proclaiming victory with loud shouts of joy." leaving his musketeers to fire at the spanish gunners, morgan turned aside to reconnoitre. making the capture of the lesser fort his excuse, he sent a trumpet, with a white flag, to summon the main castle, where the governor had flown the spanish standard. while the herald was gone upon his errand, morgan set some buccaneers to make a dozen scaling ladders, "so broad that three or four men at once might ascend by them." by the time they were finished, the trumpeter returned, bearing the governor's answer that "he would never surrender himself alive." when the message had been given, captain morgan formed his soldiers into companies, and bade the monks and nuns whom he had taken, to place the ladders against the walls of the chief castle. he thought that the spanish governor would hardly shoot down these religious persons, even though they bore the ladders for the scaling parties. in this he was very much mistaken. the governor was there to hold the castle for his catholic majesty, and, like "a brave and courageous soldier," he "refused not to use his utmost endeavours to destroy whoever came near the walls." as the wretched monks and nuns came tottering forward with the ladders, they begged of him, "by all the saints of heaven," to haul his colours down, to the saving of their lives. behind them were the pirates, pricking them forward with their pikes and knives. in front of them were the cannon of their friends, so near that they could see the matches burning in the hands of the gunners. "they ceased not to cry to him," says the narrative; but they could not "prevail with the obstinacy and fierceness that had possessed the governor's mind"--"the governor valuing his honour before the lives of the mass-mumblers." as they drew near to the walls, they quickened their steps, hoping, no doubt, to get below the cannon muzzles out of range. when they were but a few yards from the walls, the cannon fired at them, while the soldiers pelted them with a fiery hail of hand-grenades. "many of the religious men and nuns were killed before they could fix the ladders"; in fact, the poor folk were butchered there in heaps, before the ladders caught against the parapet. directly the ladders held, the pirates stormed up with a shout, in great swarms, like a ship's crew going aloft to make the sails fast. they had "fireballs in their hands and earthen pots full of powder," which "they kindled and cast in among the spaniards" from the summits of the walls. in the midst of the smoke and flame which filled the fort the spanish governor stood fighting gallantly. his wife and child were present in that house of death, among the blood and smell, trying to urge him to surrender. the men were running from their guns, and the hand-grenades were bursting all about him, but this spanish governor refused to leave his post. the buccaneers who came about him called upon him to surrender, but he answered that he would rather die like a brave soldier than be hanged as a coward for deserting his command, "so that they were enforc'd to kill him, nothwithstanding the cries of his wife and daughter." the sun was setting over iron castle before the firing came to an end with the capture of the castle gloria. the pirates used the last of the light for the securing of their many prisoners. they drove them to some dungeon in the castle, where they shut them up under a guard. the wounded "were put into a certain apartment by itself," without medicaments or doctors, "to the intent their own complaints might be the cure of their diseases." in the dungeons of the castle's lower battery they found eleven english prisoners chained hand and foot. they were the survivors of the garrison of providence, which the spaniards treacherously took two years before. their backs were scarred with many floggings, for they had been forced to work like slaves at the laying of the quay piles in the hot sun, under spanish overseers. they were released at once, and tenderly treated, nor were they denied a share of the plunder of the town. "having finish'd this jobb" the pirates sought out the "recreations of heroick toil." "they fell to eating and drinking" of the provisions stored within the city, "committing in both these things all manner of debauchery and excess." they tapped the casks of wine and brandy, and "drank about" till they were roaring drunk. in this condition they ran about the town, like cowboys on a spree, "and never examined whether it were adultery or fornication which they committed." by midnight they were in such a state of drunken disorder that "if there had been found only fifty courageous men, they might easily have retaken the city, and killed the pirats." the next day they gathered plunder, partly by routing through the houses, partly by torturing the townsfolk. they seem to have been no less brutal here than they had been in cuba, though the porto bello houses yielded a more golden spoil than had been won at puerto principe. they racked one or two poor men until they died. others they slowly cut to pieces, or treated to the punishment called "woolding," by which the eyes were forced from their sockets under the pressure of a twisted cord. some were tortured with burning matches "and such like slight torments." a woman was roasted to death "upon a baking stone"--a sin for which one buccaneer ("as he lay sick") was subsequently sorry. while they were indulging these barbarities, they drank and swaggered and laid waste. they stayed within the town for fifteen days, sacking it utterly, to the last ryal. they were too drunk and too greedy to care much about the fever, which presently attacked them, and killed a number, as they lay in drunken stupor in the kennels. news of their riot being brought across the isthmus, the governor of panama resolved to send a troop of soldiers, to attempt to retake the city, but he had great difficulty in equipping a sufficient force. before his men were fit to march, some messengers came in from the imprisoned townsfolk, bringing word from captain morgan that he wanted a ransom for the city, "or else he would by fire consume it to ashes." the pirate ships were by this time lying off the town, in porto bello bay. they were taking in fresh victuals for the passage home. the ransom asked was , pieces of eight, or £ , . if it had not been paid the pirates could have put their threat in force without the slightest trouble. morgan made all ready to ensure his retreat in the event of an attack from panama. he placed an outpost of "well-arm'd" men in a narrow part of the passage over the isthmus. all the plunder of the town was sent on board the ships. in this condition he awaited the answer of the president. as soon as that soldier had sufficient musketeers in arms, he marched them across the isthmus to relieve the city. they attempted the pass which morgan had secured, but lost very heavily in the attempt. the buccaneers charged, and completely routed them, driving back the entire company along the road to panama. the president had "to retire for that time," but he sent a blustering note to captain morgan, threatening him and his with death "when he should take them, as he hoped soon to do." to this morgan replied that he would not deliver the castles till he had the money, and that if the money did not come, the castles should be blown to pieces, with the prisoners inside them. we are told that "the governor of panama perceived by this answer that no means would serve to mollify the hearts of the pirates, nor reduce them to reason." he decided to let the townsfolk make what terms they could. in a few days more these wretched folk contrived to scrape together the required sum of money, which they paid over as their ransom. before the expedition sailed away, a messenger arrived from panama with a letter from the governor to captain morgan. it made no attempt to mollify his heart nor to reduce him to reason, but it expressed a wonder at the pirates' success. he asked, as a special favour, that captain morgan would send him "some small patterns" of the arms with which the city had been taken. he thought it passing marvellous that a town so strongly fortified should have been won by men without great guns. morgan treated the messenger to a cup of drink, and gave him a pistol and some leaden bullets "to carry back to the president, his master." "he desired him to accept that pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken porto bello." he requested him to keep them for a twelvemonth, "after which time he promised to come to panama and fetch them away." the spaniard returned the gift to captain morgan, "giving him thanks for lending him such weapons as he needed not." he also sent a ring of gold, with the warning "not to give himself the trouble of coming to panama," for "he should not speed so well there" as he had sped at porto bello. "after these transactions" captain morgan loosed his top-sail, as a signal to unmoor. his ships were fully victualled for the voyage, and the loot was safely under hatches. as a precaution, he took with him the best brass cannon from the fortress. the iron guns were securely spiked with soft metal nails, which were snapped off flush with the touch-holes. the anchors were weighed to the music of the fiddlers, a salute of guns was fired, and the fleet stood out of porto bello bay along the wet, green coast, passing not very far from the fort which they had blown to pieces. in a few days' time they raised the keys of cuba, their favourite haven, where "with all quiet and repose" they made their dividend. "they found in ready money two hundred and fifty thousand pieces of eight, besides all other merchandises, as cloth, linen, silks and other goods." the spoil was amicably shared about the mast before a course was shaped for their "common rendezvous"--port royal. a godly person in jamaica, writing at this juncture in some distress, expressed himself as follows:--"there is not now resident upon this place ten men to every [licensed] house that selleth strong liquors ... besides sugar and rum works that sell without license." when captain morgan's ships came flaunting into harbour, with their colours fluttering and the guns thundering salutes, there was a rustle and a stir in the heart of every publican. "all the tavern doors stood open, as they do at london, on sundays, in the afternoon." within those tavern doors, "in all sorts of vices and debauchery," the pirates spent their plunder "with huge prodigality," not caring what might happen on the morrow. shortly after the return from porto bello, morgan organised another expedition with which he sailed into the gulf of maracaibo. his ships could not proceed far on account of the shallowness of the water, but by placing his men in the canoas he penetrated to the end of the gulf. on the way he sacked maracaibo, a town which had been sacked on two previous occasions--the last time by l'ollonais only a couple of years before. morgan's men tortured the inhabitants, according to their custom, either by "woolding" them or by placing burning matches between their toes. they then set sail for gibraltar, a small town strongly fortified, at the south-east corner of the gulf. the town was empty, for the inhabitants had fled into the hills with "all their goods and riches." but the pirates sent out search parties, who brought in many prisoners. these were examined, with the usual cruelties, being racked, pressed, hung up by the heels, burnt with palm leaves, tied to stakes, suspended by the thumbs and toes, flogged with rattans, or roasted at the camp fires. some were crucified, and burnt between the fingers as they hung on the crosses; "others had their feet put into the fire." when they had extracted the last ryal from the sufferers they shipped themselves aboard some spanish vessels lying in the port. they were probably cedar-built ships, of small tonnage, built at the gibraltar yards. in these they sailed towards maracaibo, where they found "a poor distressed old man, who was sick." this old man told them that the castle de la barra, which guarded the entrance to the gulf, had been mounted with great guns and manned by a strong garrison. outside the channel were three spanish men-of-war with their guns run out and decks cleared for battle. the truth of these assertions was confirmed by a scouting party the same day. in order to gain a little time morgan sent a spaniard to the admiral of the men-of-war, demanding a ransom "for not putting maracaibo to the flame." the answer reached him in a day or two, warning him to surrender all his plunder, and telling him that if he did not, he should be destroyed by the sword. there was no immediate cause for haste, because the spanish admiral could not cross the sandbanks into the gulf until he had obtained flat-bottomed boats from caracas. morgan read the letter to his men "in the market-place of maracaibo," "both in french and english," and then asked them would they give up all their spoil, and pass unharmed, or fight for its possession. they agreed with one voice to fight, "to the very last drop of blood," rather than surrender the booty they had risked their skins to get. one of the men undertook to rig a fireship to destroy the spanish admiral's flagship. he proposed to fill her decks with logs of wood "standing with hats and montera caps," like gunners standing at their guns. at the port-holes they would place other wooden logs to resemble cannon. the ship should then hang out the english colours, the jack or the red st george's cross, so that the enemy should deem her "one of our best men of war that goes to fight them." the scheme pleased everyone, but there was yet much anxiety among the pirates. morgan sent another letter to the spanish admiral, offering to spare maracaibo without ransom; to release his prisoners, with one half of the captured slaves; and to send home the hostages he brought away from gibraltar, if he might be granted leave to pass the entry. the spaniard rejected all these terms, with a curt intimation that, if the pirates did not surrender within two more days, they should be compelled to do so at the sword's point. morgan received the spaniard's answer angrily, resolving to attempt the passage "without surrendering anything." he ordered his men to tie the slaves and prisoners, so that there should be no chance of their attempting to rise. they then rummaged maracaibo for brimstone, pitch, and tar, with which to make their fireship. they strewed her deck with fireworks and with dried palm leaves soaked in tar. they cut her outworks down, so that the fire might more quickly spread to the enemy's ship at the moment of explosion. they broke open some new gun-ports, in which they placed small drums, "of which the negroes make use." "finally, the decks were handsomely beset with many pieces of wood dressed up in the shape of men with hats or monteras, and likewise armed with swords, muskets, and bandoliers." the plunder was then divided among the other vessels of the squadron. a guard of musketeers was placed over the prisoners, and the pirates then set sail towards the passage. the fireship went in advance, with orders to fall foul of the _spanish admiral_, a ship of forty guns. [illustration: the fireship destroying the spanish admiral castle de la barra in background] when it grew dark they anchored for the night, with sentinels on each ship keeping vigilant watch. they were close to the entry, almost within shot of the spaniards, and they half expected to be boarded in the darkness. at dawn they got their anchors, and set sail towards the spaniards, who at once unmoored, and beat to quarters. in a few minutes the fireship ran into the man-of-war, "and grappled to her sides" with kedges thrown into her shrouds. the spaniards left their guns, and strove to thrust her away, but the fire spread so rapidly that they could not do so. the flames caught the warship's sails, and ran along her sides with such fury that her men had hardly time to get away from her before she blew her bows out, and went to the bottom. the second ship made no attempt to engage: her crew ran her ashore, and deserted, leaving her bilged in shallow water. as the pirates rowed towards the wreck some of the deserters hurried back to fire her. the third ship struck her colours without fighting. seeing their advantage a number of the pirates landed to attack the castle, where the shipwrecked spaniards were rallying. a great skirmish followed, in which the pirates lost more men than had been lost at porto bello. they were driven off with heavy loss, though they continued to annoy the fort with musket fire till the evening. as it grew dark they returned to maracaibo, leaving one of their ships to watch the fortress and to recover treasure from the sunken flagship. morgan now wrote to the spanish admiral, demanding a ransom for the town. the citizens were anxious to get rid of him at any cost, so they compounded with him, seeing that the admiral disdained to treat, for the sum of , pieces of eight and cattle. the gold was paid, and the cattle duly counted over, killed, and salted; but morgan did not purpose to release his prisoners until his ship was safely past the fort. he told the maracaibo citizens that they would not be sent ashore until the danger of the passage was removed. with this word he again set sail to attempt to pass the narrows. he found his ship still anchored near the wreck, but in more prosperous sort than he had left her. her men had brought up , pieces of eight, with a lot of gold and silver plate, "as hilts of swords and other things," besides "great quantity of pieces of eight" which had "melted and run together" in the burning of the vessel. morgan now made a last appeal to the spanish admiral, telling him that he would hang his prisoners if the fortress fired on him as he sailed past. the spanish admiral sent an answer to the prisoners, who had begged him to relent, informing them that he would do his duty, as he wished they had done theirs. morgan heard the answer, and realised that he would have to use some stratagem to escape the threatened danger. he made a dividend of the plunder before he proceeded farther, for he feared that some of the fleet might never win to sea, and that the captains of those which escaped might be tempted to run away with their ships. the spoils amounted to , pieces of eight, as at porto bello, though in addition to this gold there were numbers of slaves and heaps of costly merchandise. when the booty had been shared he put in use his stratagem. he embarked his men in the canoas, and bade them row towards the shore "as if they designed to land." when they reached the shore they hid under the overhanging boughs "till they had laid themselves down along in the boats." then one or two men rowed the boats back to the ships, with the crews concealed under the thwarts. the spaniards in the fortress watched the going and returning of the boats. they could not see the stratagem, for the boats were too far distant, but they judged that the pirates were landing for a night attack. the boats plied to and from the shore at intervals during the day. the anxious spaniards resolved to prepare for the assault by placing their great guns on the landward side of the fortress. they cleared away the scrub on that side, in order to give their gunners a clear view of the attacking force when the sun set. they posted sentries, and stood to their arms, expecting to be attacked. as soon as night had fallen the buccaneers weighed anchor. a bright moon was shining, and by the moonlight the ships steered seaward under bare poles. as they came abreast of the castle on the gentle current of the ebb, they loosed their sails to a fair wind blowing seaward. at the same moment, while the top-sails were yet slatting, captain morgan fired seven great guns "with bullets" as a last defiance. the spaniards dragged their cannon across the fortress, "and began to fire very furiously," without much success. the wind freshened, and as the ships drew clear of the narrows they felt its force, and began to slip through the water. one or two shots took effect upon them before they drew out of range, but "the pirates lost not many of their men, nor received any considerable damage in their ships." they hove to at a distance of a mile from the fort in order to send a boat in with a number of the prisoners. they then squared their yards, and stood away towards jamaica, where they arrived safely, after very heavy weather, a few days later. here they went ashore in their stolen velvets and silks to spend their silver dollars in the port royal rum shops. some mates of theirs were ashore at that time after an unlucky cruise. it was their pleasure "to mock and jeer" these unsuccessful pirates, "often telling them: let us see what money you brought from comana, and if it be as good silver as that which we bring from maracaibo." _note._--on his return from maracaibo, morgan gave out that he had met with further information of an intended spanish attack on jamaica. he may have made the claim to justify his actions on the main, which were considerably in excess of the commission modyford had given him. on the other hand, a spanish attack may have been preparing, as he stated; but the preparations could not have gone far, for had the spaniards been prepared for such an expedition morgan's panama raid could never have succeeded. _authorities._--exquemeling's "history of the bucaniers of america"; exquemeling's "history" (the malthus edition), . cal. state papers: west indian and colonial series. for my account of porto bello i am indebted to various brief accounts in hakluyt, and to a book entitled "a description of the spanish islands," by a "gentleman long resident in those parts." i have also consulted the brief notices in dampier's voyages, wafer's voyages, various gazetteers, and some maps and pamphlets relating to admiral vernon's attack in - . there is a capital description of the place as it was in its decadence, _circa_ , in michael scott's "tom cringle's log." chapter xi morgan's great raid chagres castle--across the isthmus--sufferings of the buccaneers--venta cruz--old panama some months later henry morgan found his pirates in all the miseries of poverty. they had wasted all their silver dollars, and longed for something "to expend anew in wine" before they were sold as slaves to pay their creditors. he thought that he would save them from their misery by going a new cruise. there was no need for him to drum up recruits in the rum shops, for his name was glorious throughout the indies. he had but to mention that "he intended for the main" to get more men than he could ship. he "assigned the south side of the isle of tortuga" for his rendezvous, and he sent out letters to the "ancient and expert pirates" and to the planters and hunters in hispaniola, asking them, in the american general's phrase, "to come and dip their spoons in a platter of glory." long before the appointed day the rendezvous was crowded, for ships, canoas, and small boats came thronging to the anchorage with all the ruffians of the indies. many marched to the rendezvous across the breadth of hispaniola "with no small difficulties." the muster brought together a grand variety of rascaldom, from campeachy in the west to trinidad in the east. hunters, planters, logwood cutters, indians, and half-breeds came flocking from their huts and inns to go upon the grand account. lastly, henry morgan came in his fine spanish ship, with the brass and iron guns. at the firing of a gun the assembled captains came on board to him for a pirates' council, over the punch-bowl, in the admiral's cabin. it was decided at this council to send a large party to the main, to the de la hacha river, "to assault a small village" of the name of la rancheria--the chief granary in all the "terra firma." the pirates were to seize as much maize there as they could find--enough, if possible, to load the ships of the expedition. while they were away their fellows at tortuga were to clean and rig the assembled ships to fit them for the coming cruise. another large party was detailed to hunt in the woods for hogs and cattle. in about five weeks' time the ships returned from rio de la hacha, after much buffeting at sea. they brought with them a grain ship they had taken in the port, and several thousand sacks of corn which the spaniards had paid them as "a ransom for not burning the town." they had also won a lot of silver, "with all other things they could rob"--such as pearls from the local pearl beds. the hunters had killed and salted an incredible quantity of beef and pork, the ships were scraped and tallowed, and nothing more was to be done save to divide the victuals among all the buccaneers. this division did not take much time. within a couple of days the admiral loosed his top-sail. the pirates fired off their guns and hove their anchors up. they sailed out of port couillon with a fair wind, in a great bravery of flags, towards the rendezvous at cape tiburon, to the south-west of the island hispaniola. when they reached cape tiburon, where there is a good anchorage, they brought aboard a store of oranges, to save them from the scurvy. while the men were busy in the orange groves henry morgan "gave letters patent, or commissions," to all his captains, "to act all manner of hostility against the spanish nation." for this act he had the sealed authority of the council of jamaica. he was no longer a pirate or buccaneer, but an admiral leading a national enterprise. as we have said, he had heard, on the main, of an intended spanish attack upon jamaica; indeed, it is probable that his capture of porto bello prevented the ripening of the project. there is no need to whitewash morgan, but we may at least regard him at this juncture as the saviour of our west indian colonies. after the serving out of these commissions, and their due sealing, the captains were required to sign the customary articles, allotting the shares of the prospective plunder. the articles allotted very liberal compensation to the wounded; they also expressly stated the reward to be given for bravery in battle. fifty pieces of eight were allotted to him who should haul a spanish colour down and hoist the english flag in its place. surgeons received pieces of eight "for their chests of medicaments." carpenters received one half of that sum. henry morgan, the admiral of the fleet, was to receive one-hundredth part of all the plunder taken. his vice-admiral's share is not stated. as a stimulus to the pirates, it was published through the fleet that any captain and crew who ventured on, and took, a spanish ship should receive a tenth part of her value as a reward to themselves for their bravery. when the contracts had been signed morgan asked his captains which town they should attempt. they had thirty-seven ships, carrying at least cannon. they had musketeers, "besides mariners and boys," while they possessed "great quantity of ammunition, and fire balls, with other inventions of powder." with such an armament, he said, they could attack the proudest of the spanish cities. they could sack la vera cruz, where the gold from manila was put aboard the galleons, as they lay alongside the quays moored to the iron ring-bolts; or they could go eastward to the town of cartagena to pillage our lady's golden altar in the church there; or they could row up the chagres river, and keep the promise morgan had made to the governor of panama. the captains pronounced for panama, but they added, as a rider, that it would be well to go to santa katalina to obtain guides. the santa katalina fort was still in the possession of the spaniards, who now used it as a convict settlement, sending thither all the outlaws of the "terra firma." it would be well, they said, to visit santa katalina to select a few choice cut-throats to guide them over the isthmus. with this resolution they set sail for santa katalina, where they anchored on the fourth day, "before sunrise," in a bay called the aguada grande. some of the buccaneers had been there under mansvelt, and these now acted as guides to the men who went ashore in the fighting party. a day of hard fighting followed, rather to the advantage of the spaniards, for the pirates won none of the batteries, and had to sleep in the open, very wet and hungry. the next day morgan threatened the garrison with death if they did not yield "within few hours." the governor was not a very gallant man, like the governor at porto bello. perhaps he was afraid of his soldiers, the convicts from the "terra firma." at anyrate he consented to surrender, but he asked that the pirates would have the kindness to pretend to attack him, "for the saving of his honesty." morgan agreed very gladly to this proposition, for he saw little chance of taking the fort by storm. when the night fell, he followed the governor's direction, and began a furious bombardment, "but without bullets, or at least into the air." the castles answered in the like manner, burning a large quantity of powder. then the pirates stormed into the castles in a dramatic way; while the spaniards retreated to the church, and hung out the white flag. early the next morning the pirates sacked the place, and made great havoc in the poultry-yards and cattle-pens. they pulled down a number of wooden houses to supply their camp fires. the guns they nailed or sent aboard. the powder they saved for their own use, but some proportion of it went to the destruction of the forts, which, with one exception, they blew up. for some days they stayed there, doing nothing but "roast and eat, and make good cheer," sending the spaniards to the fields to rout out fresh provisions. while they lay there, morgan asked "if any banditti were there from panama," as he had not yet found his guides. three scoundrels came before him, saying that they knew the road across the isthmus, and that they would act as guides if such action were made profitable. morgan promised them "equal shares in all they should pillage and rob," and told them that they should come with him to jamaica at the end of the cruise. these terms suited the three robbers very well. one of them, "a wicked fellow," "the greatest rogue, thief and assassin among them," who had deserved rather "to be broken alive upon a wheel than punished with serving in a garrison," was the spokesman of the trio. he was the dubosc of that society, "and could domineer and command over them," "they not daring to refuse obedience." this truculent ruffian, with his oaths and his knives and his black moustachios, was elected head guide. after several days of ease upon the island morgan sent a squadron to the main, with men, four ships, and a canoa, "to go and take the castle of chagre," at the entrance to the chagres river. he would not send a larger company, though the fort was strong, for he feared "lest the spaniards should be jealous of his designs upon panama"--lest they should be warned, that is, by refugees from chagres before he tried to cross the isthmus. neither would he go himself, for he was still bent upon establishing a settlement at santa katalina. he chose out an old buccaneer, of the name of brodely or bradly, who had sailed with mansvelt, to command the expedition. he was famous in his way this captain brodely, for he had been in all the raids, and had smelt a quantity of powder. he was as brave as a lion, resourceful as a sailor, and, for a buccaneer, most prudent. ordering his men aboard, he sailed for the chagres river, where, three days later, he arrived. he stood in towards the river's mouth; but the guns of the castle opened on him, making that anchorage impossible. but about a league from the castle there is a small bay, and here captain brodely brought his ships to anchor, and sent his men to their blankets, warning them to stand by for an early call. [illustration: chagres circa ] the castle of san lorenzo, which guarded the chagres river's mouth, was built on the right bank of that river, on a high hill of great steepness. the hill has two peaks, with a sort of natural ditch some thirty feet in depth between them. the castle was built upon the seaward peak, and a narrow drawbridge crossed the gully to the other summit, which was barren and open to the sight. the river swept round the northern side of the hill with considerable force. to the south the hill was precipitous, and of such "infinite asperity," that no man could climb it. to the east was the bridged gully connecting the garrison with the isthmus. to the west, in a crook of the land, was the little port of chagres, where ships might anchor in seven or eight fathoms, "being very fit for small vessels." not far from the foot of the hill, facing the river's mouth, there was a battery of eight great guns commanding the approach. a little way beneath were two more batteries, each with six great guns, to supplement the one above. a path led from these lower batteries to the protected harbour. a steep flight of stairs, "hewed out of the rock," allowed the soldiers to pass from the water to the summit of the castle. the defences at the top of the hill were reinforced with palisadoes. the keep, or inner castle, was hedged about with a double fence of plank--the fences being six or seven feet apart, and the interstices filled in with earth, like gabions. on one side of the castle were the storesheds for merchandise and ammunition. on the other, and within the palisadoes everywhere, were soldiers' huts, built of mud and wattle, thatched with palm leaves, "after the manner of the indians." lastly, as a sort of outer defence, a great submerged rock prevented boats from coming too near the seaward side. early in the morning captain bradly turned his hands up by the boatswain's pipe, and bade them breakfast off their beef and parched corn. maize and charqui were packed into knapsacks for the march, and the pirates rowed ashore to open the campaign. the ruffians from santa katalina took their stations at the head of the leading company, with trusty pirates just behind them ready to pistol them if they played false. in good spirits they set forth from the beach, marching in the cool of the morning before the sun had risen. the way led through mangrove swamps, where the men sank to their knees in rotting grasses or plunged to their waists in slime. those who have seen a tropical swamp will know how fierce the toil was. they were marching in a dank world belonging to an earlier age than ours. they were in the age of the coal strata, among wet, green things, in a silence only broken by the sound of dropping or by the bellow of an alligator. they were there in the filth, in the heat haze, in a mist of miasma and mosquitoes. in all probability they were swearing at themselves for coming thither. at two o'clock in the afternoon the buccaneers pushed through a thicket of liane and green cane, and debouched quite suddenly upon the barren hilltop facing san lorenzo castle. as they formed up, they were met with a thundering volley, which threw them into some confusion. they retreated to the cover of the jungle to debate a plan of battle, greatly fearing that a fort so strongly placed would be impregnable without great guns to batter it. however, they were a reckless company, careless of their lives, and hot with the tramping through the swamp. give it up they could not, for fear of the mockery of their mates. the desperate course was the one course open to them. they lit the fireballs, or grenades, they had carried through the marsh; they drew their swords, and "come on!" they cried. "have at all!" and forward they stormed, cursing as they ran. a company in reserve remained behind in cover, firing over the storming party with their muskets. as the pirates threw themselves into the gully, the walls of san lorenzo burst into a flame of gun fire. the spaniards fought their cannon furiously--as fast as they could fire and reload--while the musketeers picked off the leaders from the loopholes. "come on, ye english dogs!" they cried. "come on, ye heretics! ye cuckolds! let your skulking mates behind there come on too! you'll not get to panama this bout." "come on" the pirates did, with great gallantry. they flung themselves down into the ditch, and stormed up the opposite slope to the wooden palings. here they made a desperate attempt to scale, but the foothold was too precarious and the pales too high. in a few roaring minutes the attack was at an end: it had withered away before the spanish fire. the buccaneers were retreating in knots of one or two, leaving some seventy of their number on the sun-bleached rocks of the gully. when they got back to the jungle they lay down to rest, and slept there quietly while the daylight lasted, though the spaniards still sent shots in their direction. as soon as it was dark, they made another furious assault, flinging their fireballs against the palings in order to burst the planks apart. while they were struggling in the ditch, a pirate ran across the gully with his body bent, as is natural to a running man. as he ran, an arrow took him in the back, and pierced him through to the side. he paused a moment, drew the arrow from the wound, wrapped the shaft of it with cotton as a wad, and fired it back over the paling with his musket. the cotton he had used caught fire from the powder, and it chanced that this blazing shaft drove home into a palm thatch. in the hurry and confusion the flame was not noticed, though it spread rapidly across the huts till it reached some powder casks. there was a violent explosion just within the palisadoes, and stones and blazing sticks came rattling down about the spaniards' ears. the inner castle roared up in a blaze, calling the spaniards from their guns to quench the fire--no easy task so high above the water. while the guns were deserted, the pirates ran along the bottom of the ditch, thrusting their fireballs under the palisadoes, which now began to burn in many places. as the flames spread, the planking warped, and fell. the outer planks inclined slightly outward, like the futtocks of a ship, so that, when they weakened in the fire, the inner weight of earth broke them through. the pirates now stood back from the fort, in the long black shadows, to avoid the showers of earth--"great heaps of earth"--which were falling down into the ditch. presently the slope from the bottom of the gully was piled with earth, so that the pirates could rush up to the breaches, and hurl their firepots across the broken woodwork. the san lorenzo fort was now a spiring red flame of fire--a beacon to the ships at sea. before midnight the wooden walls were burnt away to charcoal; the inner fort was on fire in many places; yet the spaniards still held the earthen ramparts, casting down "many flaming pots," and calling on the english dogs to attack them. the pirates lay close in the shadows, picking off the spaniards as they moved in the red firelight, so that many poor fellows came toppling into the gully from the mounds. when day dawned, the castle lay open to the pirates. the walls were all burnt, and fallen down, but in the breaches stood the spanish soldiers, manning their guns as though the walls still protected them. the fight began as furiously as it had raged the day before. by noon most of the spanish gunners had been shot down by the picked musketeers; while a storming party ran across the ditch, and rushed a breach. as the pirates gained the inside of the fort, the spanish governor charged home upon them with twenty-five soldiers armed with pikes, clubbed muskets, swords, or stones from the ruin. for some minutes these men mixed in a last desperate struggle; then the spaniards were driven back by the increasing numbers of the enemy. fighting hard, they retreated to the inner castle, cheered by their governor, who still called on them to keep their flag aloft. the inner castle was a ruin, but the yellow flag still flew there, guarded by some sorely wounded soldiers and a couple of guns. here the last stand was made, and here the gallant captain was hit by a bullet, "which pierced his skull into the brain." the little band of brave men now went to pieces before the rush of pirates. some of them fell back, still fighting, to the wall, over which they flung themselves "into the sea," dying thus honourably rather than surrender. about thirty of them, "whereof scarce ten were not wounded," surrendered in the ruins of the inner fortress. these thirty hurt and weary men were the survivors of who had stood to arms the day before. all the rest were dead, save "eight or nine," who had crept away by boat up the chagres to take the news to panama. no officer remained alive, nor was any powder left; the spaniards were true soldiers. the pirates lost "above one hundred killed" and over seventy wounded, or rather more than half of the men engaged. while the few remaining spaniards dug trenches in the sand for the burial of the many dead, the pirates questioned them as to their knowledge of morgan's enterprise. they knew all about it, they said, for a deserter from the pirate ships which raided the rio de la hacha (for grain) had spoken of the scheme to the governor at cartagena. that captain had reinforced the chagres garrison, and had sent a warning over the isthmus to the governor at panama. the chagres was now well lined with ambuscades. panama was full of soldiers, and the whole spanish population was ready to take up arms to drive the pirates to their ships, so they knew what they might look to get in case they persisted in their plan. this information was sent to henry morgan at the santa katalina fort, with news of the reduction of the chagres castle. before he received it, captain joseph bradly died in the castle, of a wound he had received in the fighting. when morgan received the news that san lorenzo had been stormed, he began to send aboard the meat, maize, and cassava he had collected in santa katalina. he had already blown the spanish forts to pieces, with the one exception of the fort of st teresa. he now took all the captured spanish guns, and flung them into the sea, where they lie still, among the scarlet coral sprays. the spanish town was then burnt, and the spanish prisoners placed aboard the ships. it was morgan's intention to return to the island after sacking panama, and to leave there a strong garrison to hold it in the interests of the buccaneers. when he had made these preparations he weighed his anchors, and sailed for the chagres river under the english colours. eight days later they came sailing slowly up towards the river's mouth. their joy was so great "when they saw the english colours upon the castle, that they minded not their way into the river," being gathered at the rum cask instead of at the lead, and calling healths instead of soundings. as a consequence, four ships of the fleet, including the admiral's flagship, ran foul of the ledge of rocks at the river's entry. several men were drowned, but the goods and ships' stores were saved, though with some difficulty. as they got out warps to bring the ships off, the north wind freshened. in shallow water, such as that, a sea rises very quickly. in a few hours a regular "norther" had set in, and the ships beat to pieces on the ledge before the end of the day. as morgan came ashore at the port, the guns were fired in salute, and the pirates lined the quay and the castle walls to give him a triumphant welcome. he examined the castle, questioned the lieutenants, and at once took steps to repair the damage done by the fire. the thirty survivors of the garrison and all the prisoners from santa katalina, were set to work to drive in new palisadoes in the place of those burnt in the attack. the huts were rethatched and the whole place reordered. there were some spanish ships in the port whose crews had been pressed into the spanish garrison at the time of the storm. they were comparatively small, of the kind known as chatas, or chatten, a sort of coast boat of slight draught, used for river work and for the conveyance of goods from the chagres to the cities on the main. they had iron and brass guns aboard them, which were hoisted out, and mounted in the fort. captain morgan then picked a garrison of buccaneers to hold the fort, under a buccaneer named norman. he placed more in the ships in the anchorage, and embarked the remainder in flat-bottomed boats for the voyage up the chagres. it was the dry season, so that the river, at times so turbulent, was dwindled to a tenth of its volume. in order that the hard work of hauling boats over shallows might not be made still harder, morgan gave orders that the men should take but scanty stock of provisions. a few maize cobs and a strip or two of charqui was all the travelling store in the scrips his pilgrims carried. they hoped that they would find fresh food in the spanish strongholds, or ambuscades, which guarded the passage over the isthmus. [illustration: the isthmus showing morgan's line of advance] the company set sail from san lorenzo on the morning of the th (one says the th) of january . they numbered in all men, packed into thirty-two canoas and the five chatas they had taken in the port. his guides went on ahead in one of the chatas, with her guns aboard her and the matches lit, and one robert delander, a buccaneer captain, in command. the first day's sailing against a gentle current was pleasant enough. in spite of the heat and the overcrowding of the boats, they made six leagues between dawn and sunset, and anchored at a place called de los bracos. here a number of the pirates went ashore to sleep "and stretch their limbs, they being almost crippled with lying too much crowded in the boats." they also foraged up and down for food in the plantations; but the spaniards had fled with all their stores. it was the first day of the journey over the isthmus, yet many of the men had already come to an end of their provisions. "the greatest part of them" ate nothing all day, nor enjoyed "any other refreshment" than a pipe of tobacco. the next day, "very early in the morning," before the sun rose, they shoved off from the mooring-place. they rowed all day, suffering much from the mosquitoes, but made little progress. the river was fallen very low, so that they were rowing or poling over a series of pools joined by shallow rapids. to each side of them were stretches of black, alluvial mud, already springing green with shrubs and water-plants. every now and then, as they rowed on, on the dim, sluggish, silent, steaming river, they butted a sleeping alligator as he sunned in the shallows, or were stopped by a fallen tree, brought by the summer floods and left to rot there. at twilight, when the crying of the birds became more intense and the monkeys gathered to their screaming in the treetops, the boats drew up to the bank at a planter's station, or wayside shrine, known as cruz de juan gallego. here they went ashore to sleep, still gnawed with famine, and faint with the hard day's rowing. the guides told henry morgan that after another two leagues they might leave the boats, and push through the woods on foot. early the next morning the admiral decided to leave the boats, for with his men so faint from hunger he thought it dangerous to tax them with a labour so severe as rowing. he left men to protect the fleet, giving them the strictest orders to remain aboard. "no man," he commanded, "upon any pretext whatsoever, should dare to leave the boats and go ashore." the woods there were so dark and thick that a spanish garrison might have lain within yards of the fleet, and cut off any stragglers who landed. having given his orders, he chose out a gang of macheteros, or men carrying the sharp sword-like machetes, to march ahead of the main body, to cut a trackway in the pulpy green stuff. they then set forward through the forest, over their ankles in swampy mud, up to their knees sometimes in rotting leaves, clambering over giant tree trunks, wading through stagnant brooks, staggering and slipping and swearing, faint with famine; a very desperate gang of cut-throats. as they marched, the things called garapatadas, or wood-ticks, of which some six sorts flourish there, dropped down upon them in scores, to add their burning bites to the venom of the mosquitoes. in a moist atmosphere of at least °, with heavy arms to carry, that march must have been terrible. even the buccaneers, men hardened to the climate, could not endure it: they straggled back to the boats, and re-embarked. with a great deal of trouble the pirates dragged the boats "to a place farther up the river, called cedro bueno," where they halted for the stragglers, who drifted in during the evening. here they went ashore to a wretched bivouac, to lie about the camp fires, with their belts drawn tight, chewing grass or aromatic leaves to allay their hunger. after cedro bueno the river narrowed, so that there was rather more water to float the canoas. the land, too, was less densely wooded, and easier for the men to march upon. on the fourth day "the greatest part of the pirates marched by land, being led by one of the guides." another guide led the rest of them in the canoas; two boats going ahead of the main fleet, one on each side of the river, to discover "the ambuscades of the spaniards." the spaniards had lined the river-banks at intervals with indian spies, who were so "very dexterous" that they brought intelligence of the coming of the pirates "six hours at least before they came to any place." about noon on this day, as the boats neared torna cavallos, one of the guides cried out that he saw an ambuscade. "his voice caused infinite joy to all the pirates," who made sure that the fastness would be well provisioned, and that at last they might "afford something to the ferment of their stomachs, which now was grown so sharp that it did gnaw their very bowels." the place was carried with a rush; but the redoubt was empty. the spaniards had all fled away some hours before, when their spies had come in from down the river. there had been spaniards there standing to arms behind the barricade of tree trunks. they had marched away with all their gear, save only a few leather bags, "all empty," and a few crusts and bread crumbs "upon the ground where they had eaten." there were a few shelter huts, thatched with palm leaves, within the barricade. these the pirates tore to pieces in the fury of their disappointment. they fell upon the leather bags like hungry dogs quarrelling for a bone. they fought and wrangled for the scraps of leather, and ate them greedily, "with frequent gulps of water." had they taken any spaniards there "they would certainly in that occasion [or want] have roasted or boiled" them "to satisfy their famine." somewhat relieved by the scraps of leather, they marched on along the river-bank to "another post called torna munni." here they found a second wall of tree trunks, loopholed for musketry, "but as barren and desert as the former." they sought about in the woods for fruits or roots, but could find nothing--"the spaniards having been so provident as not to leave behind them anywhere the least crumb of sustenance." there was nothing for them but "those pieces of leather, so hard and dry," a few of which had been saved "for supper" by the more provident. he who had a little scrap of hide, would slice it into strips, "and beat it between two stones, and rub it, often dipping it in the water of the river, to render it by these means supple and tender." lastly, the hair was scraped off, and the piece "roasted or broiled" at the camp fire upon a spit of lance wood. "and being thus cooked they cut it into small morsels, and eat it," chewing each bit for several minutes as though loth to lose it, and helping it down "with frequent gulps of water." there was plenty of fish in the chagres, but perhaps they had no lines. it seems strange, however, that they made no attempt to kill some of the myriads of birds and monkeys in the trees, or the edible snakes which swarm in the grass, or, as a last resource, the alligators in the river. gaunt with hunger, they took the trail again after a night of misery at torna munni. the going was slightly better, but there was still the wood-ticks, the intense, damp heat, and the lust for food to fight against. about noon they staggered in to barbacoas, now a station on the isthmian railway. there were a few huts at barbacoas, for the place was of some small importance. a native swinging bridge, made of bejuco cane, was slung across the river there for the benefit of travellers going to porto bello. an ambush had been laid at barbacoas, but the spaniards had left the place, after sweeping it as bare as torna munni. the land was in tillage near the huts, but the plantations were barren. "they searched very narrowly, but could not find any person, animal or other thing that was capable of relieving their extreme and ravenous hunger." after a long search they chanced upon a sort of cupboard in the rocks, "in which they found two sacks of meal, wheat, and like things, with two great jars of wine, and certain fruits called platanos," or large bananas. morgan very firmly refused to allow the buccaneers to use this food. he reserved it strictly for those who were in greatest want, thereby saving a number of lives. the dying men were given a little meal and wine, and placed in the canoas, "and those commanded to land that were in them before." they then marched on "with greater courage than ever," till late into the night, when they lay down in a plundered bean patch. "on the sixth day" they were nearly at the end of their tether. they dragged along slowly, some in boats, some in the woods, halting every now and then in despair of going farther, and then staggering on again, careless if they lived or died. their lips were scummy with a sort of green froth, caused by their eating grass and the leaves of trees. in this condition they came at noon to a plantation, "where they found a barn full of maize." they beat the door in in a few minutes, "and fell to eating of it dry," till they were gorged with it. there was enough for all, and plenty left to take away, so they distributed a great quantity, "giving to every man a good allowance." with their knapsacks full of corn cobs they marched on again, in happier case than they had been in for several days. they soon came to "an ambuscade of indians," but no indians stayed within it to impeach their passage. on catching sight of the barricade many buccaneers flung away their corn cobs, with the merry improvidence of their kind, "with the sudden hopes they conceived of finding all things in abundance." but the larder was as bare as it had been in the other strongholds: it contained "neither indians, nor victuals, nor anything else." on the other side of the river, however, there were many indians, "a troop of a hundred," armed with bows, "who escaped away through the agility of their feet." some of the pirates "leapt into the river" to attack these indians, and to bring them into camp as prisoners. they did not speed in their attempt, but two or three of them were shot through the heart as they waded. their corpses drifted downstream, to catch in the oars of the canoas, a horrible feast for the caymans. the others returned to their comrades on the right or northern bank of the river among the howls of the indians: "hey, you dogs, you, go on to the savannah; go on to the savannah, to find out what's in pickle for you." they could go no farther towards the savannah for that time, as they wished to cross the river, and did not care to do so, in the presence of an enemy, without due rest. they camped about big fires of wood, according to their custom, but they slept badly, for the hunger and toil had made them mutinous. the growling went up and down the camp till it came to morgan's ears. most of the pirates were disgusted with their admiral's "conduct," or leadership, and urged a speedy return to port royal. others, no less disgusted, swore savagely that they would see the job through. some, who had eaten more burnt leather than the others, "did laugh and joke at all their discourses," and so laid a last straw upon their burden. "in the meanwhile" the ruffian guide, "the rogue, thief, and assassin," who had merited to die upon a wheel, was a great comfort to them. "it would not be long," he kept saying, "before they met with folk, when they would come to their own, and forget these hungry times." so the night passed, round the red wood logs in the clearing, among the steaming jungle. early in the morning of the seventh day they cleaned their arms, wiping away the rust and fungus which had grown upon them. "every one discharged his pistol or musket, without bullet, to examine the security of their firelocks." they then loaded with ball, and crossed the river in the canoas. at midday they sighted venta cruz, the village, or little town, which drake had taken. the smoke was going up to heaven from the venta cruz chimneys--a sight very cheering to these pirates. they had "great joy and hopes of finding people in the town ... and plenty of good cheer." they went on merrily, "making several arguments to one another [like the gravediggers in _hamlet_] upon those external signs"--saying that there could be no smoke without a fire, and no fire in such a climate save to cook by, and that, therefore, venta cruz would be full of roast and boiled by the time they marched into its plaza. thus did they cheer the march and the heavy labour at the oars as far as the venta cruz jetty. as they entered venta cruz at the double, "all sweating and panting" with the hurry of their advance, they found the town deserted and in a blaze of fire. there was nothing eatable there, for the place had been swept clean, and then fired, by the retreating spaniards. the only houses not alight were "the store-houses and stables belonging the king." these, being of stone, and government property, had not been kindled. the storehouses and stables were, however, empty. not a horse nor a mule nor an ass was in its stall. "they had not left behind them any beast whatsoever, either alive or dead." venta cruz was as profitless a booty as all the other stations. a few pariah dogs and cats were in the street, as was perhaps natural, even at that date, in a central-american town. these were at once killed, and eaten half raw, "with great appetite." before they were despatched, a pirate lighted on a treasure in a recess of the king's stables. he found there a stock of wine, some fifteen or sixteen jars, or demijohns, of good peruvian wine, "and a leather sack full of bread." "but no sooner had they begun to drink of the said wine when they fell sick, almost every man." several hundreds had had a cup or two of the drink, and these now judged themselves poisoned, and "irrecoverably lost." they were not poisoned, as it happened, but they had gone hungry for several days, living on "manifold sorts of trash." the sudden use of wine and bread caused a very natural sickness, such as comes to all who eat or drink greedily after a bout of starving. the sickness upset them for the day, so that the force remained there, at bivouac in the village, until the next morning. during the halt morgan landed all his men ("though never so weak") from the canoas. he retained only one boat, which he hid, for use as an advice boat, "to carry intelligence" to those down the river. the rest of the canoas were sent downstream to the anchorage at bueno cedro, where the chatas lay moored under a guard. he gave strict orders to the rest of the pirates that they were not to leave the village save in companies of together. "one party of english soldiers stickled not to contravene these commands, being tempted with the desire of finding victuals." while they straggled in the tilled ground outside venta cruz they were attacked "with great fury" by a number of spaniards and indians, "who snatched up" one of them, and carried him off. what was done to this one so snatched up we are not told. probably he was tortured to give information of the pirates' strength, and then hanged up to a tree. on the eighth day, in the early morning, the sick men being recovered, morgan thought they might proceed. he chose out an advance-guard of of the strongest of his men, and sent them forward, with their matches lighted, to clear the road. the road was a very narrow one, but paved with cobble stones, and easy to the feet after the quagmires of the previous week. the men went forward at a good pace, beating the thickets on each side of the road. when they had marched some seven or eight miles they were shot at from some indian ambush. a shower of arrows fell among them, but they could not see a trace of the enemy, till the indians, who had shot the arrows, broke from cover and ran to a second fastness. a few stood firm, about a chief or cacique, "with full design to fight and defend themselves." they fought very gallantly for a few moments; but the pirates stormed their poor defence, and pistolled the cacique, losing eight men killed and ten wounded before the indians broke. shortly after this skirmish, the advance-guard left the wood, coming to open, green grass-land "full of variegated meadows." on a hill at a little distance they saw a number of indians gathered, watching their advance. they sent out a troop to capture some of these, but the indians escaped again, "through the agility of their feet," to reappear a little later with their howls of scorn: "hey, you dogs, you english dogs, you. get on to the savannah, you dogs, you cuckolds. on to the savannah, and see what's coming to you." "while these things passed the ten pirates that were wounded were dressed and plastered up." in a little while the pirates seized a hilltop facing a ridge of hill which shut them from the sight of panama. in the valley between the two hills was a thick little wood, where morgan looked to find an ambush. he sent his advance-guard of men to search the thicket. as they entered, some spaniards and indians entered from the opposite side, but no powder was burnt, for the spaniards stole away by a bypath, "and were seen no more." that night a drenching shower of rain fell, blotting out the landscape in a roaring grey film. it sent the pirates running hither and thither to find some shelter "to preserve their arms from being wet." nearly all the huts and houses in the district had been fired by the indians, but the pirates found a few lonely shepherds' shealings, big enough to hold all the weapons of the army and a few of the men. those who could not find a place among the muskets were constrained to lie shivering in the open, enduring much hardship, for the rain did not slacken till dawn. at daybreak morgan ordered them to march "while the fresh air of the morning lasted"; for they were now in open country, on the green savannah, where they would have no treetops to screen them from the terrible sun. during their morning march they saw a troop of spanish horse, armed with spears, watching the advance at a safe distance, and retiring as the pirates drew nearer. shortly after this they topped a steep rise, and lo! the smoke of panama, and the blue pacific, with her sky-line trembling gently, and a ship under sail, with five boats, going towards some emerald specks of islands. the clouds were being blown across the sky. the sun was glorious over all that glorious picture, over all the pasture, so green and fresh from the rain. there were the snowy andes in the distance, their peaks sharply notched on the clear sky. directly below them, in all her beauty, was the royal city of panama, only hidden from sight by a roll of green savannah. just at the foot of the rise, in a wealth of fat pasture, were numbers of grazing cattle, horses, and asses--the droves of the citizens. the pirates crept down, and shot a number of these, "chiefly asses," which they promptly flayed, while some of their number gathered firewood. as soon as the fires were lit the meat was blackened in the flame, and then greedily swallowed in "convenient pieces or gobbets." "they more resembled cannibals than europeans at this banquet," for the blood ran down the beards of many, so hungry were they for meat after the long agony of the march. what they could not eat they packed in their satchels. after a long midday rest they fell in again for the march, sending fifty men ahead to take prisoners "if possibly they could," for in all the nine days' tramp they had taken no one to give them information of the spaniards' strength. towards sunset they saw a troop of spaniards spying on them, who hallooed at them, but at such a distance that they could not distinguish what was said. as the sun set "they came the first time within sight of the highest steeple of panama." this was a stirring cordial to the way-weary men limping down the savannah. the sight of the sea was not more cheering to the greeks than the sight of the great gilt weathercock, shifting on the spire, to these haggard ruffians with the blood not yet dry upon their beards. they flung their hats into the air, and danced and shouted. all their trumpets shouted a levity, their drums beat, and their colours were displayed. they camped there, with songs and laughter, in sight of that steeple, "waiting with impatience," like the french knights in the play, for the slowly coming dawn. their drums and trumpets made a merry music to their singing, and they caroused so noisily that a troop of horsemen rode out from panama to see what was the matter. "they came almost within musket-shot of the army, being preceded by a trumpet that sounded marvellously well." they rode up "almost within musket-shot," but made no attempt to draw the pirates' fire. they "hallooed aloud to the pirates, and threatened them," with "hey, ye dogs, we shall meet ye," in the manner of the indians. seven or eight of them stayed "hovering thereabouts," riding along the camp until the day broke, to watch the pirates' movements. as soon as their main body reached the town, and reported what they had seen, the governor ordered the city guns to open on the pirates' camp. the biggest guns at once began a heavy fire, from which one or two spent balls rolled slowly to the outposts without doing any damage. at the same time, a strong party took up a position to the rear of the camp, as though to cut off the retreat. morgan placed his sentries, and sent his men to supper. they feasted merrily on their "pieces of bulls' and horses' flesh," and then lay down on the grass to smoke a pipe of tobacco before turning in. that last night's camp was peaceful and beautiful: the men were fed and near their quarry, the sun had dried their wet clothes; the night was fine, the stars shone, the panama guns were harmless. they slept "with great repose and huge satisfaction," careless of the chance of battle, and anxious for the fight to begin. panama old panama, the chief spanish city in south america, with the one exception of cartagena, was built along the sea-beach, fronting the bay of panama, between the rivers gallinero and matasnillos. it was founded between and by pedrarias davila, a poor adventurer, who came to the spanish indies to supersede balboa, having at that time "nothing but a sword and buckler." davila gave it the name of an indian village then standing on the site. the name means "abounding in fish." it soon became the chief commercial city in those parts, for all the gold and silver and precious merchandise of peru and chili were collected there for transport to porto bello. at the time of morgan's attack upon it, it contained some houses, with a number of huts and hovels for the slaves. the population, counting these latter, may have been as great as , . many of the houses were of extreme beauty, being built of an aromatic rose wood, or "native cedar," ingeniously carved. many were built of stone in a moorish fashion, with projecting upper storeys. it had several stone monasteries and convents, and a great cathedral, dedicated to st anastasius, which was the most glorious building in spanish america. its tower still stands as a landmark to sailors, visible many miles to sea. the stones of it are decorated with defaced carvings. inside it, within the ruined walls, are palm and cedar trees, green and beautiful, over the roots of which swarm the scarlet-spotted coral snakes. the old town was never properly fortified. the isthmus was accounted a sufficient protection to it, and the defences were consequently weak. it was a town of merchants, who "thought only of becoming rich, and cared little for the public good." they lived a very stately life there, in houses hung with silk, stamped leather, and spanish paintings, drinking peruvian wines out of cups of gold and silver. the genoese company, a company of slavers trading with guinea, had a "stately house" there, with a spacious slave market, where the blacks were sold over the morning glass. the spanish king had some long stone stables in the town, tended by a number of slaves. here the horses and mules for the recuas were stabled in long lines, like the stables of a cavalry barrack. near these were the royal storehouses, built of stone, for the storage of the gold from the king's mines. there were also merchants' warehouses, built in one storey, round which the slaves slept, under pent roofs. outside the city was the beautiful green savannah, a rolling sea of grass, with islands of trees, cedar and palm, thickly tangled with the many-coloured bindweeds. to one side of it, an arm of the sea crept inland, to a small salt lagoon, which rippled at high tide, at the back of the city. the creek was bridged to allow the porto bello carriers to enter the town, and a small gatehouse or porter's lodge protected the way. the bridge is a neat stone arch, still standing. the streets ran east and west, "so that when the sun rises no one can walk in any of the streets, because there is no shade whatever; and this is felt very much as the heat is intense; and the sun is so prejudicial to health, that if a man is exposed to its rays for a few hours, he will be attacked with a fatal illness [pernicious fever], and this has happened to many." the port was bad for shipping, because of the great rise and fall of the tides. the bay is shallow, and ships could only come close in at high water. at low water the town looked out upon a strip of sand and a mile or more of very wet black mud. "at full moon, the waves frequently reach the houses and enter those on that side of the town." the roadstead afforded safe anchorage for the great ships coming up from lima. loading and unloading was performed by launches, at high water, on days when the surf was moderate. small ships sailed close in at high tide, and beached themselves. to landward there were many gardens and farms, where the spaniards had "planted many trees from spain"--such as oranges, lemons, and figs. there were also plantain walks, and a great plenty of pines, guavas, onions, lettuces, and "alligator pears." over the savannah roamed herds of fat cattle. on the seashore, "close to the houses of the city," were "quantities of very small mussels." the presence of these mussel beds determined the site of the town, "because the spaniards felt themselves safe from hunger on account of these mussels." the town is all gone now, saving the cathedral tower, where the sweet spanish bells once chimed, and the little stone bridge, worn by so many mules' hoofs. there is dense tropical forest over the site of it, though the foundations of several houses may be traced, and two or three walls still stand, with brilliant creepers covering up the carved work. it is not an easy place to reach, for it is some six miles from new panama, and the way lies through such a tangle of creepers, over such swampy ground, poisonous with so many snakes, that it is little visited. it can be reached by sea on a fine day at high tide if the surf be not too boisterous. to landward of the present panama there is a fine hill, called mount ançon. a little to the east of this there is a roll of high land, now a fruitful market-garden, or farm of orchards. this high land, some five or six miles from the ruins, is known as buccaneers' hill. it was from the summit of this high land that the pirates first saw the city steeple. local tradition points out a few old spanish guns of small size, brass and iron, at the near-by village of el moro, as having been left by morgan's men. at the island of taboga, in the bay of panama, they point with pride to a cave, the haunt of squid and crabs, as the hiding-place of spanish treasure. in the blackness there, they say, are the golden sacramental vessels and jewelled vestments of the great church of st anastasius. they were hidden there at the time of the raid, so effectually that they could never be recovered. we can learn of no other local tradition concerning the sack and burning. [illustration: new panama] what old panama was like we do not know, for we can trace no picture of it. it was said to be the peer of venice, "the painted city," at a time when venice was yet the "incomparable queene." it could hardly have been a second venice, though its situation on that beautiful blue bay, with the andes snowy in the distance, and the islands, like great green gems, to seaward, is lovely beyond words. it was filled with glorious houses, carved and scented, and beautiful with costly things. the merchants lived a languorous, luxurious life there, waited on by slaves, whom they could burn or torture at their pleasure. it was "the greatest mart for gold and silver in the whole world." there were pearl fisheries up and down the bay, yielding the finest of pearls; and "golden potosi"--the tangible eldorado, was not far off. the merchants of old panama were, perhaps, as stately fellows and as sumptuous in their ways of life as any "on the rialto." their city is now a tangle of weeds and a heap of sun-cracked limestone; their market-place is a swamp; their haven is a stretch of surf-shaken mud, over which the pelicans go quarrelling for the bodies of fish. _authorities._--exquemeling's "history"; "the bucaniers of america." don guzman's account, printed in the "voyages and adventures of captain bartholomew sharp." cal. state papers: west indies and colonial series. "present state of jamaica," . "new history of jamaica," . for my account of chagres i am indebted to friends long resident on the isthmus, and to dampier's and wafer's voyages. chapter xii the sack of panama the burning of the city--buccaneer excesses--an abortive mutiny--home--morgan's defection "on the tenth day, betimes in the morning," while the black and white monkeys were at their dawn song, or early screaming, the pirates fell in for the march, with their red flags flying and the drums and trumpets making a battle music. they set out gallantly towards the city by the road they had followed from venta cruz. before they came under fire, one of the guides advised morgan to attack from another point. the spaniards, he said, had placed their heavy guns in position along the probable line of their advance. every clump of trees near the trackway would be filled with spanish sharpshooters, while they might expect earth-works or trenches nearer to the city. he advised morgan to make a circuit, so as to approach the city through the forest--over the ground on which new panama was built, a year or two later. morgan, therefore, turned rather to the west of the highway, through some tropical woodland, where the going was very irksome. as they left the woodland, after a march of several hours, they again entered the savannah, at a distance of about a mile and a half from the town. the ground here was in sweeping folds, so that they had a little hill to climb before the town lay open to them, at the edge of the sea, to the eastward of the salt lagoon. when they topped this rise they saw before them "the forces of the people of panama, extended in battle array," between them and the quarry. the spanish strength on this occasion, according to the narrative, was as follows:-- horse, of the finest horsemen in the world; twenty-four companies of foot, each company mustering a full men; and "sixty indians and some negroes." these last were "to drive two thousand wild bulls and cause them to run over the english camp, and thus, by breaking their files, put them into a total disorder and confusion." morgan gives the numbers as foot and horse, with "two droves of cattel of apiece," one for each flank or for the angles of the rear. the spanish governor, who had been "lately blooded times for an erysipelas," had not done as well as he could have wished in the preparation of an army of defence. he says that he had brought together coloured men, armed with "carbins, harquebusses, and fowling pieces," the muskets having been lost at chagres. he gives the number of cavalry as , "mounted on the same tired horses which had brought them thither." he admits that there were " cow-keepers" and an advance-guard of foot. he had also five field-guns "covered with leather." to these forces may be added the townsfolk capable of bearing arms. these were not very numerous, for most of the inhabitants, as we have seen, "thought only of getting rich and cared little for the public good." they were now, however, in a cold sweat of fear at the sight of the ragged battalion trooping down from the hilltop. they had dug trenches for themselves within the city and had raised batteries to sweep the important streets. they had also mounted cannon on the little stone fort, or watchman's lodge, at the town end of the bridge across the creek. the sight of so many troops drawn out in order "surprised" the pirates "with great fear." the droves of "wild bulls" pasturing on the savannah grass were new to their experience; the cavalry they had met before in cuba and did not fear, nor did they reckon themselves much worse than the spanish foot; but they saw that the spaniards outnumbered them by more than two to one, and they recognised the advantage they had in having a defensible city to fall back upon. the buccaneers were worn with the long march, and in poor case for fighting. they halted at this point, while morgan formed them into a tertia, or division of three battalions or troops, of which he commanded the right wing. the sight of so many spaniards halted below them set them grumbling in the ranks. "yea few or none there were but wished themselves at home, or at least free from the obligation of that engagement." there was, however, nothing else for it. a "wavering condition of mind" could not help them. they had no alternative but "to fight resolutely, or die." they might not look to get quarter "from an enemy against whom they had committed so many cruelties." morgan formed his men in order, and sent out skirmishers to annoy the spanish troops, and to draw them from their position. a few shots were exchanged; but the spaniards were not to be tempted, nor was the ground over which the skirmishers advanced at all suitable for moving troops. morgan, therefore, edged his men away to the left, to a little hill beyond a dry gut or water-course--a position which the spaniards could not attack from more than one side owing to the nature of the ground, which was boggy. before they could form upon the lower slopes of the hill the spanish horse rode softly forward, shouting: "viva el rey!" ("long live the king"), with a great display of courage. "but the field being full of quaggs, and very soft under foot, they could not ply to and fro, and wheel about, as they desired." when they had come to a little beyond musket-shot "one francisco detarro," the colonel of the cavalry, called out to his troopers to charge home upon the english van. the horses at once broke into a gallop, and charged in "so furiously" that morgan had to strengthen his ranks to receive them, "we having no pikes" with which to gall the horses. as the men galloped forward, the line of buccaneers made ready to fire. each musketeer put one knee to the ground, and touched off his piece, blasting the spanish regiment almost out of action at the one discharge. the charge had been pressed so nearly home that the powder corns burnt the leading horses. those who survived the shock of the volley swung off to the right to re-form, while the foot came on in their tracks "to try their fortunes." they were received with such a terrible fire that they never came to handystrokes. they disputed the point for some hours, gradually falling into disorder as their losses became more and more heavy. the cavalry re-formed, and charged a second and a third time, with the result that after two hours' fighting "the spanish horse was ruined, and almost all killed." during the engagement of the foot, the indians and negroes tried their stratagem of the bulls. they drove the herds round the flanking parties to the rear, and endeavoured to force them through the english lines. "but the greatest part of that wild cattle ran away, being frighted with the noise of the battle. and some few, that broke through the english companies, did no other harm than to tear the colours in pieces; whereas the buccaneers shooting them dead, left not one to trouble them thereabouts." [illustration: the battle of panama] seeing the spanish foot in some disorder, with many of their officers killed and few of the men firing, morgan plied them with shot and sent his left wing forward as they fell back. the horse made one last gallant attempt to break the english line, but the attempt caused their complete destruction. at the same moment morgan stormed down upon the foot with all his strength. the spaniards fired "the shot they had in their muskets," and flung their weapons down, not caring to come to handystrokes. they ran "everyone which way he could run"--an utter rout of broken soldiers. the pirates were too fatigued to follow, but they picked them off as they ran till they were out of musket-shot. the buccaneers apparently then cleared away the stragglers, by pistolling them wherever they could find them. in this employment they beat through the shrubs by the sea, where many poor citizens had hidden themselves after the final routing of the troops. some monks who were brought in to captain morgan were treated in the same manner, "for he, being deaf to their cries, commanded them to be instantly pistolled," which order was obeyed there and then. a captain or colonel of troops was soon afterwards taken, and held to ransom after a strict examination. he told morgan that he might look to have great trouble in winning the city, for the streets were all dug about with trenches and mounted with heavy brass guns. he added that the main entrance to the place was strongly fortified, and protected by a half company of fifty men with eight brass demi-cannon. morgan now bade his men rest themselves and take food before pushing on to the town. he held a review of his army before he marched, and found that he had lost heavily--perhaps men--while the spaniards had lost about three times that number. "the pirates," we read, "were nothing discouraged, seeing their number so much diminished but rather filled with greater pride than before." the comparative heaviness of the spanish loss must have been very comforting. after they had rested and eaten they set out towards the town, "plighting their oaths to one another in general, they would fight till never a man were left alive." a few prisoners, who seemed rich enough to be held to ransom, were marched with them under a guard of musketeers. long before they trod the streets of panama, they were under fire from the batteries, "some of which were charged with small pieces of iron, and others with musket-bullets." they lost men at every step; but their ranks kept steady, and street by street the town was won. the main agony of the fight took place between two and three o'clock, in the heat of the day, when the last spanish gunners were cut to pieces at their guns. after the last gun was taken, a few spaniards fired from street corners or from upper windows, but these were promptly pistolled or knocked on the head. the town was in the hands of the pirates by the time the bells chimed three that afternoon. as morgan rested with his captains in the plaza, after the heat of the battle, word was brought to him that the city was on fire in several places. many have supposed that the town was fired by his orders, or by some careless and drunken musketeer of his. it was not the buccaneer custom to fire cities before they had sacked them, nor is it in the least likely that morgan would have burnt so glorious a town before he had offered it to ransom. the spaniards have always charged morgan with the crime, but it seems more probable that the spanish governor was the guilty one. it is yet more probable that the fire was accidental. most of the spanish houses were of wood, and at that season of the year the timber would have been of extreme dryness, so that a lighted wad or match end might have caused the conflagration. at the time when the fire was first noticed, the pirates were raging through the town in search of plunder. they may well have flung away their lighted matches to gather up the spoils they found, and thus set fire to the place unwittingly. hearing that the town was burning, morgan caused his trumpeters to sound the assembly in the plaza. when the pirates mustered, morgan at once told off men to quench the fire "by blowing up houses by gunpowder, and pulling down others to stop its progress." he ordered strong guards to patrol the streets and to stand sentry without the city. lastly, he forbade any member of the army "to dare to drink or taste any wine," giving out that it had all been poisoned beforehand by the spaniards. he feared that his men would get drunk unless he frightened them by some such tale. with a drunken army rolling in the streets he could hardly hope to hold the town against an enemy so lightly beaten as the spaniards. he also sent some sailors down to the beach to seize "a great boat which had stuck in the mud of the port." for all that the pirates could do, the fire spread rapidly, for the dry cedar beams burned furiously. the warehouses full of merchandise, such as silks, velvets, and fine linen, were not burned, but all the grand houses of the merchants, where the life had been so stately, were utterly gutted--all the spanish pictures and coloured tapestries going up in a blaze. the splendid house of the genoese, where so many black men had been bought and sold, was burned to the ground. the chief streets were ruined before midnight, and the fire was not wholly extinguished a month later when the pirates marched away. it continued to burn and smoulder long after they had gone. having checked the riot among his army, morgan sent a company of men back to the garrison at the mouth of the chagres with news of his success. two other companies, of the same strength, he sent into the woods, "being all very stout soldiers and well-armed," giving them orders to bring in prisoners to hold to ransom. a third company was sent to sea under a captain searles to capture a spanish galleon which had left the port, laden with gold and silver and the jewels of the churches, a day or two before. the rest of his men camped out of doors, in the green fields without the city, ready for any attack the spaniards might make upon them. search parties rummaged all day among the burning ruins, "especially in wells and cisterns," which yielded up many jewels and fine gold plates. the warehouses were sacked, and many pirates made themselves coats of silk and velvet to replace the rags they came in. it is probable that they committed many excesses in the heat of the first taking of the town, but one who was there has testified to the comparative gentleness of their comportment when "the heat of the blood" had cooled. "as to their women," he writes, "i know [not] or ever heard of anything offered beyond their wills; something i know was cruelly executed by captain collier [commander of one of the ships and one of the chief officers of the army] in killing a frier in the field after quarter given; but for the admiral he was noble enough to the vanquished enemy." in fact, the "want of rest and victual had made them chaste--they ravished very little" --which matter must be laid to their credit. a day or two was passed by the pirates in rummaging among the ruins, eating and drinking, and watching the spaniards as they moved in the savannahs. troops of spaniards prowled there under arms, looking at their burning houses and the grey smoke ever going upward. they did not attack the pirates; they did not even fire at them from a distance. they were broken men without a leader, only thankful to be allowed to watch their blazing city. a number of them submitted to the armed men sent out to bring in prisoners. a number lingered in the near-by forests in great misery, living on grass and alligator eggs, the latter tasting "like half-rotten musk"--a poor diet after "pheasants" and peruvian wine. morgan soon received word from chagres castle that all was very well with the garrison. captain norman, who had remained in charge, under oath to keep the "bloody flag," or red pirates' banner, flying, "had sent forth to sea two boats, to exercise piracy." these had hoisted spanish colours, and set to sea, meeting with a fine spanish merchantman that very same day. they chased this ship into the chagres river, where "the poor spaniards" were caught in a snare under the guns of the fort. her cargo "consisted in victuals and provisions, that were all eatable things," unlike the victuals given usually to sailors. such a prize came very opportunely, for the castle stores were running out, while the ship's crew proved useful in the bitter work of earth carrying then going on daily on the ramparts for the repairing of the palisado. hearing that the chagres garrison was in such good case, and so well able to exercise piracy without further help, admiral morgan resolved to make a longer stay in the ruins of old panama. he arranged "to send forth daily parties of two hundred men" to roam the countryside, beating the thickets for prisoners, and the prisoners for gold. these parties ranged the country very thoroughly, gathering "in a short time, a huge quantity of riches, and no less number of prisoners." these poor creatures were shut up under a guard, to be brought out one by one for examination. if they would not confess where they had hidden their gold, nor where the gold of their neighbours lay, the pirates used them as they had used their prisoners at porto bello. "woolding," burning with palm leaves, and racking out the arm-joints, seem to have been the most popular tortures. many who had no gold were brutally ill treated, and then thrust through with a lance. among these diversions admiral morgan fell in love with a beautiful spanish lady, who appears to have been something of a paragon. the story is not worth repeating, nor does it read quite sincerely, but it is very probably true. john exquemeling, who had no great love for morgan, declares that he was an eye-witness of the love-making, "and could never have judged such constancy of mind and virtuous chastity to be found in the world." the fiery welshman did not win the lady, but we gather from the evidence that he could have had the satisfaction of matthew arnold's american, who consoled himself, in similar circumstances, with saying: "well, i guess i lowered her moral tone some." during the first week of their stay in panama, the ship they had sent to sea returned with a booty of three small coast boats. captain searles had sailed her over panama bay to the beautiful island of taboga, in order to fill fresh water and rob the inhabitants. here they took "the boatswain and most of the crew"[ ] of the _trinity_, a spanish galleon, "on board which were the friers and nuns, with all the old gentlemen and matrons of the town, to the number of souls, besides an immense treasure in silver and gold." this galleon had seven small guns and ten or twelve muskets for her whole defence. she was without provisions, and desperately short of water, and she had "no more sails than the uppermost sails of the mainmast." her captain was "an old and stout spaniard, a native of andalusia, in spain, named don francisco de peralta." she was "very richly laden with all the king's plate and great quantity of riches of gold, pearl, jewels, and other most precious goods, of all the best and richest merchants of panama. on board of this galleon were also the religious women, belonging to the nunnery of the said city, who had embarked with them all the ornaments of their church, consisting in great quantity of gold, plate, and other things of great value." this most royal prize was even then slowly dipping past taboga, with her sea-sick holy folk praying heartily for the return of the water casks. she could have made no possible defence against the pirates had they gone at once in pursuit of her. but this the pirates did not do. in the village at taboga there was a wealthy merchant's summer-house, with a cellar full of "several sorts of rich wines." a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, or as a bibulous wit once said to the present writer: "a bottle now is worth a bath of it to-morrow." captain searles and his men chose to drink a quiet bowl in the cabin rather than go sail the blue seas after the golden galleon. they made a rare brew of punch, of which they drank "logwood-cutters' measure," or a gallon and a half a man. after this they knocked out their tobacco pipes, and slept very pleasantly till the morning. they woke "repenting of their negligence" and "totally wearied of the vices and debaucheries aforesaid." with eyes red with drink they blinked at the empty punch-bowls. then with savage "morning-tempers" they damned each other for a lot of lunkheads, and put to sea (in one of the taboga prizes) "to pursue the said galleon" with all speed. however, by this time don peralta, a most gallant and resourceful captain, had brought the golden _trinity_ to a place of safety. had she been taken, she would have yielded a spoil hardly smaller than that taken by cavendish in the _madre de dios_ or that which anson won in the manila galleon. several waggon loads of golden chalices and candlesticks, with ropes of pearls, bags of emeralds and bezoars, and bar upon bar of silver in the crude, were thus bartered away for a sup of punch and a drunken chorus in the cabin. poor captain searles never prospered after. he went logwood cutting a year or two later, and as a logwood cutter he arrived at the rio summasenta, where he careened his ship at a sandy key, since known as searles key. he was killed a few days afterwards, "in the western lagune" there, "by one of his company as they were cutting logwood together." that was the end of captain searles. [footnote : they had come ashore to get water.] morgan was very angry when he heard of the escape of the galleon. he at once remanned the four prizes, and sent them out, with orders to scour the seas till they found her. they cruised for more than a week, examining every creek and inlet, beating up many a sluggish river, under many leafy branches, but finding no trace of the _trinity_. they gave up the chase at last, and rested at taboga, where, perhaps, some "rich wines" were still in bin. they found a payta ship at anchor at taboga, "laden with cloth, soap, sugar and biscuit, with twenty thousand pieces of eight in ready money." she was "a reasonable good ship," but the cargo, saving the money, was not much to their taste. they took the best of it, and loaded it aboard her longboat, making the taboga negroes act as stevedores. they then set the negroes aboard the prize, and carried her home to panama, "some thing better satisfied of their voyage, yet withal much discontented they could not meet with the galleon." it was at taboga, it seems, that the lady who so inflamed sir henry was made prisoner. at the end of three weeks of "woolding" and rummaging, admiral morgan began to prepare for the journey home. he sent his men to look for mules and horses on which to carry the plunder to the hidden canoas in the river. he learned at this juncture that a number of the pirates intended to leave him "by taking a ship that was in the port," and going to "rob upon the south sea." they had made all things ready, it seems, having hidden "great quantity of provisions," powder, bullets, and water casks, with which to store their ship. they had even packed the good brass guns of the city, "where with they designed not only to equip the said vessel but also to fortify themselves and raise batteries in some island or other, which might serve them for a place of refuge." the scheme was fascinating, and a very golden life they would have had of it, those lucky mutineers, had not some spoil-sport come sneaking privily to morgan with a tale of what was toward. they might have seized cocos island or juan fernandez, or "some other island," such as one of the enchanted, or gallapagos, islands, where the goddesses were thought to dwell. that would have been a happier life than cutting logwood, up to the knees in mud, in some drowned savannah of campeachy. however, just as the wine-bowl spoiled the project of the galleon, so did the treachery of a lickspittle, surely one of the meanest of created things, put an end to the mutiny. morgan was not there to colonise pacific oceans, but to sack panama. he had no intention of losing half his army for an imperial idea. he promptly discouraged the scheme by burning all the boats in the roads. the ship or chata, which would have been the flagship of the mutineers, was dismasted, and the masts and rigging were added to the general bonfire. all the brass cannon they had taken were nailed and spiked. wooden bars were driven down their muzzles as firmly as possible, and the wood was then watered to make it swell. there was then no more talk of going a-cruising to found republics. morgan thought it wise to leave panama as soon as possible, before a second heresy arose among his merry men. he had heard that the governor of panama was busily laying ambuscades "in the way by which he ought to pass at his return." he, therefore, picked out a strong company of men, including many of the mutineers, and sent them out into the woods to find out the truth of the matter. they found that the report was false, for a few spanish prisoners, whom they captured, were able to tell them how the scheme had failed. the governor, it was true, had planned to make "some opposition by the way," but none of the men remaining with him would consent to "undertake any such enterprize." with this news the troops marched back to panama. while they were away, the poor prisoners made every effort to raise money for their ransoms, but many were unable to raise enough to satisfy their captors. morgan had no wish to wait till they could gather more, for by this time, no doubt, he had satisfied himself that he had bled the country of all the gold it contained. nor did he care to wait till the spaniards had plucked up heart, and planted some musketeers along the banks of the chagres. he had horses and mules enough to carry the enormous heaps of plunder to the river. it was plainly foolish to stay longer, for at any time a force might attack him (by sea) from lima or (by land) from porto bello. he, therefore, gave the word for the army to prepare to march. he passed his last evening in panama (as we suppose) with the female paragon from taboga. the army had one last debauch over the punch-bowls round the camp fires, and then fell in to muster, thinking rapturously of the inns and brothels which waited for their custom at port royal. [illustration: sir henry morgan] "on the th of february, of the year , captain morgan departed from the city of panama, or rather from the place where the said city of panama did stand; of the spoils whereof he carried with him one hundred and seventy-five beasts of carriage, laden with silver, gold and other precious things, besides six hundred prisoners more or less, between men, women, children and slaves." thus they marched out of the ruined capital, over the green savannah, towards the river, where a halt was called to order the army for the march to venta cruz. a troop of picked marksmen was sent ahead to act as a scouting party; the rest of the company marched in hollow square, with the prisoners in the hollow. in this array they set forward towards venta cruz to the sound of drums and trumpets, amid "lamentations, cries, shrieks and doleful sighs" from the wretched women and children. most of these poor creatures were fainting with thirst and hunger, for it had been morgan's policy to starve them, in order "to excite them more earnestly to seek for money wherewith to ransom themselves." "many of the women," says the narrative, "begged of captain morgan upon their knees, with infinite sighs and tears, he would permit them to return to panama, there to live in company of their dear husbands and children, in little huts of straw which they would erect, seeing they had no houses until the rebuilding of the city. but his answer was: he came not thither to hear lamentations and cries, but rather to seek money. therefore they ought to seek out for that in the first place, wherever it were to be had, and bring it to him, otherwise he would assuredly transport them all to such places whither they cared not to go." with this answer they had to remain content, as they lay in camp, under strict guard, on the banks of the rio grande. early the next morning, "when the march began," "those lamentable cries and shrieks were renewed, in so much as it would have caused compassion in the hardest heart to hear them. but captain morgan, a man little given to mercy, was not moved therewith in the least." they marched in the same order as before, but on this day, we read, the spaniards "were punched and thrust in their backs and sides, with the blunt end of [the pirates'] arms, to make them march the faster." the "beautiful and virtuous lady" "was led prisoner by herself, between two pirates," both of whom, no doubt, wished the other dear charmer away. she, poor lady, was crying out that she had asked two monks to fetch her ransom from a certain hiding-place. they had taken the money, she cried, according to her instruction, but they had used it to ransom certain "of their own and particular friends." this evil deed "was discovered by a slave, who brought a letter to the said lady." in time, her words were reported to captain morgan, who held a court of inquiry there and then, to probe into the truth of the matter. the monks made no denial of the fact, "though under some frivolous excuses, of having diverted the money but for a day or two, within which time they expected more sums to repay it." the reply angered morgan into releasing the poor woman, "detaining the said religious men as prisoners in her place," and "using them according to the deserts of their incompassionate intrigues." probably they were forced to run the gauntlet between two rows of pirates armed with withes of bejuco. a day's hard marching brought them to the ruins of venta cruz, on the banks of the river, where the canoas lay waiting for them under a merry boat guard. the army rested at venta cruz for three days, while maize and rice were collected for the victualling of the boats. many prisoners succeeded in raising their ransoms during this three days' halt. those who failed, were carried down the river to san lorenzo. on the th of march the plunder was safely shipped, the army went aboard the canoas, the prisoners (including some from venta cruz) were thrust into the bottoms of the boats, and the homeward voyage began. the two monks who had embezzled the lady's money escaped translation at this time, being ransomed by their friends before the sailing of the fleet. the canoas dropped down the river swiftly, with songs and cheers from the pirates, till they came to some opening in the woods, half way across the isthmus, where the banks were free enough from brush to allow them to camp. here they mustered in order, as though for a review, each man in his place with his sword and firelock. here captain morgan caused each man to raise his right hand, and to swear solemnly that he had concealed nothing privately, "even not so much as the value of sixpence." captain morgan, a welshman by birth, "having had some experience that those lewd fellows would not much stickle to swear falsely in points of interest, commanded every one to be searched very strictly, both in their clothes and satchels and everywhere it might be presumed they had reserved anything. yea, to the intent this order might not be ill-taken by his companions, he permitted himself to be searched, even to the very soles of his shoes." one man out of each company was chosen to act as searcher to his fellows, and a very strict search was made. "the french pirates were not well satisfied with this new custom of searching," but there were not very many of them, and "they were forced to submit to it." when the search was over, they re-embarked, and soon afterwards the current caught them, and spun them down swiftly to the lion-like rock at the river's mouth. they came safely to moorings below san lorenzo on the th of march. they found that most of the wounded they had left there had died of fever, but the rest of the garrison was in good case, having "exercised piracy" with profit all the time the army had been plundering. there was "joy, and a full punch-bowl," in the castle rooms that night. morgan now sent his santa katalina prisoners to porto bello in "a great boat," demanding a ransom for chagres castle, "threatening otherwise" to blast it to pieces. "those of porto bello," who needed all their money to repair their own walls, replied that "they would not give one farthing towards the ransom of the said castle, and that the english might do with it as they pleased"--a sufficiently bold answer, which sealed the fate of san lorenzo. when the answer came, the men were again mustered, and "the dividend was made of all the spoil they had purchased in that voyage." each man received his due share, "or rather what part thereof captain morgan was pleased to give." there was general dissatisfaction with "his proceedings in this particular," and many shaggy ruffians "feared not to tell him openly" that he had "reserved the best jewels to himself." they "judged it impossible" that the share per man should be but a paltry pieces of eight, or £ , after "so many valuable booties and robberies." why, they said, it is less than we won at porto bello. many swore fiercely that, if they had known how small the booty was to prove, they would have seen henry morgan in gaol before they 'listed. why they did not tear him piecemeal, and heave him into the sea, must remain a mystery. they contented themselves with damning him to his face for a rogue and a thief, at the same time praying that a red-hot hell might be his everlasting portion. "but captain morgan," says the narrative, "was deaf to all these, and many other complaints of this kind, having designed in his mind to cheat them of as much as he could." deaf though he was, and callous, he had a fine regard for his own skin. the oaths and curses which were shouted after him as he walked in the castle made him "to fear the consequence thereof." he "thought it unsafe to remain any longer time at chagre," so he planned a master stroke to defeat his enemies. the castle guns were dismounted, and hoisted aboard his flagship. the castle walls were then blasted into pieces, the lower batteries thrown down, and the houses burnt. when these things had been done "he went secretly on board his own ship, without giving any notice of his departure to his companions, nor calling any council, as he used to do. thus he set sail, and put out to sea, not bidding anybody adieu, being only followed by three or four vessels of the fleet." the captains of these ships, it was believed, had shared with him in the concealed plunder. there was great fury among the buccaneers when morgan's escape was known. the french pirates were for putting to sea in pursuit, to blow his ships out of the water, but morgan had been sufficiently astute to escape in the provision ships. the pirates left behind had not food enough to stock their ships, and could not put to sea till more had been gathered. while they cursed and raged at chagres, morgan sailed slowly to port royal, where he furled his sails, and dropped anchor, after a highly profitable cruise. the governor received his percentage of the profits, and morgan at once began to levy recruits for the settling of santa katalina. as for his men, they stayed for some days in considerable misery at san lorenzo. they then set sail in companies, some for one place, some for another, hoping to find food enough to bring them home. some went to the eastward, raiding the coast for food, and snapping up small coasting vessels. some went to the bay of campeachy to cut logwood and to drink rum punch. others went along the costa rican coast to find turtle to salt for victuals, and to careen their barnacled and wormy ships. one strong company went to cuba, where they sacked the town of the keys, and won a good booty. most of them came home, in time, but to those who returned that home-coming was bitter. shortly after morgan's return to jamaica, a new governor arrived from england with orders to suppress the gangs of privateers. he had instructions to proclaim a general pardon for all those buccaneers who cared to take advantage of the proclamation within a given time. those who wished to leave "their naughty way of life" were to be encouraged by grants of land (thirty-five acres apiece), so that they might not starve when they forsook piracy. but this generous offer was merely a lure or bait to bring the buccaneers to port, in order that the governor might mulct them "the tenths and fifteenths of their booty as the dues of the crown for granting them commissions." the news of the intended taxation spread abroad among the pirates. they heard, too, that in future they would find no rest in port royal; for this new governor was earnest and diligent in his governorship. they, therefore, kept away from port royal, and made tortuga their rendezvous, gradually allying themselves with the french buccaneers, who had their stronghold there. some of them, who returned to port royal, were brought before the magistrate, and hanged as pirates. their old captain, henry morgan, left his former way of life, and soon afterwards become governor of jamaica. he was so very zealous in "discouraging" the buccaneers that the profession gradually lost its standing. the best of its members took to logwood cutting or to planting; the worst kept the seas, like water-ishmaelites, plundering the ships of all nations save their own. they haunted tortuga, the keys of cuba, the creeks and inlets of the coast, and the bays at the western end of jamaica. they were able to do a great deal of mischief; for there were many of them, and the english colonial governors could not spare many men-of-war to police the seas. often the pirates combined and made descents upon the coast as in the past. henry morgan's defection did but drive them from their own pleasant haunt, port royal. the "free-trade" of buccaneering throve as it had always thriven. but about the time of morgan's consulship we read of british men-of-war helping to discourage the trade, and thenceforward the buccaneers were without the support of the colonial government. those who sailed the seas after morgan's time were public enemies, sailing under the shadow of the gallows. _authorities._--w. nelson: "five years at panama." p. mimande: "souvenirs d'un echappé de panama." a. reclus: "panama et darien." a. radford: "jottings on panama." j. de acosta: "voyages." s. de champlain: "narrative." cieça de leon: "travels." exquemeling: "bucaniers of america." don perez de la guzman: "account of the sack of panama." i am also indebted to friends long resident in the present city of panama. chapter xiii captain dampier campeachy--logwood cutting--the march to santa maria william dampier, a somersetshire man, who had a taste for roving, went to the west indies for the first time in , about three years after the sack of panama. he was "then about twenty-two years old," with several years of sea-service behind him. he had been to the north and to the east, and had smelt powder in a king's ship during the dutch wars. he came to the west indies to manage a plantation, working his way "as a seaman" aboard the ship of one captain kent. planting sugar or cocoa on sixteen-mile walk in an island so full of jolly sinners proved to be but dull work. dampier tried it for some weeks, and then slipped away to sea with a port royal trader, who plied about the coast, fetching the planters' goods to town, and carrying european things, such as cloth, iron, powder, or the like, to the planters' jetties along the coast. that was a more pleasant life, for it took the young man all round the island, to quiet plantings where old buccaneers were at work. these were kindly fellows, always ready for a yarn with the shipmen who brought their goods from port royal. they treated the young man well, giving him yams, plantains, and sweet potatoes, with leave to wander through their houses. "but after six or seven months" dampier "left that employ," for he had heard strange tales of the logwood cutters in campeachy bay, and longed to see something of them. he, therefore, slipped aboard a small jamaica vessel which was going to the bay "to load logwood," with two other ships in company. the cargo of his ship "was rum and sugar; a very good commodity for the log-wood cutters, who were then about men, most english." when they anchored off one bush key, by the oyster banks and "low mangrovy land," these lumbermen came aboard for drink, buying rum by the gallon or firkin, besides some which had been brewed into punch. they stayed aboard, drinking, till the casks gave out, firing off their small-arms with every health, and making a dreadful racket in that still lagoon, where the silence was seldom so violently broken. the logwood began to come aboard a day or two later; and dampier sometimes went ashore with the boat for it, on which occasions he visited the huts of the woodmen, and ate some merry meals with them, "with pork and pease, or beef and dough-boys," not to mention "drams or punch." on the voyage home he was chased by spaniards, who "fired a gun" at the ketch, but could not fetch her alongside. it was an easy life aboard that little ketch; for every morning they fished for their suppers, and at no time was any work done unless the ship was actually in peril of wreck. while they were lazying slowly eastward, "tumbling like an egg-shell in the sea," her captain ran her on the alcranes, a collection of sandy little islands, where they stayed for some days before they found a passage out to sea. they spent the days in fishing, or flinging pebbles at the rats, or killing boobies, and then set sail again, arriving after some days' sailing, at the isles of pines. here they landed to fill fresh water at the brooks, among the sprays of red mangrove, which grew thickly at the water's edge. they also took ashore their "two bad fowling-pieces," with intent to kill a wild hog or cow, being then in want of food, for the ship's provisions had given out. they did not kill any meat for all their hunting, nor did they catch much fish. their ill success tempted the sailors to make for the cuban keys, where they thought they would find great abundance, "either fish or flesh." the cuban keys were favourite haunts of the buccaneers, but it was dangerous for a small ship like the ketch to venture in among them. on cape corientes there was a spanish garrison of forty soldiers, chiefly mulattoes and caribs, who owned a swift periagua, fitted with oars and sails. they kept sentinels always upon the cape, and whenever a ship hove in sight they would "launch out," and seize her, and cut the throats of all on board, "for fear of telling tales." fear of this garrison, and the prudent suggestion of dampier--that "it was as probable that we might get as little food in the south keys, as we did at pines, where, though there was plenty of beefs and hogs, yet we could not to tell how to get any--" at last prevailed upon the seamen to try for jamaica. they were without food of any kind, save a little flour from the bottoms of the casks, and two "barrels of beef," which they had taken west to sell, "but 'twas so bad that none would buy it." on a porridge of this meat, chopped up with mouldy flour, they contrived to keep alive, "jogging on" towards the east till they made jamaica. they arrived off blewfield's point thirteen weeks after leaving campeachy, and, as dampier says: "i think never any vessel before nor since made such traverses ... as we did.... we got as much experience as if we had been sent out on a design." however, they dropped their anchor "at nigrill" "about three a clock in the afternoon," and sent in the boat for fruit and poultry. one or two sea-captains, whose ketches were at anchor there, came out to welcome the new arrival. in the little "cabbin," where the lamp swung in gimbals, the sailors "were very busie, going to drink a bowl of punch, ... after our long fatigue and fasting." the thirsty sea-captains, bronzed by the sun, came stumping down the ladder to bear a hand. one captain, "mr john hooker," said that he was under "oath to drink but three draughts of strong liquor a day." the bowl, which had not been touched, lay with him, with six quarts of good rum punch inside it. this mr hooker, "putting the bowl to his head, turn'd it off at one draught"--he being under oath, and, doubtless, thirsty. "and so, making himself drunk, disappointed us of our expectations, till we made another bowl." thus with good cheer did they recruit themselves in that hot climate after long sailing of the seas. dampier passed the next few weeks in port royal, thinking of the jolly life at one bush key, and of the little huts, so snugly thatched, and of the camp fires, when the embers glowed so redly at night before the moon rose. the thought of the logwood cutters passing to and fro about those camp fires, to the brandy barrel or the smoking barbecue, was pleasant to him. he felt inclined "to spend some time at the logwood trade," much as a young gentleman of that age would have spent "some time" on the grand tour with a tutor. he had a little gold laid by, so that he was able to lay in a stock of necessaries for the trade--such as "hatchets, axes, long knives, saws, wedges, etc., a pavillion to sleep in, a gun with powder and shot, etc." when all was ready, he went aboard a new england ship, and sailed for campeachy, where he settled "in the west creek of the west lagoon" with some old logwood cutters who knew the trade. logwood cutting was then a very profitable business, for the wood fetched from £ to £ a ton in the european markets. the wood is very dense, and so heavy that it sinks in water. the work of cutting it, and bringing it to the ships, in the rough campeachy country, where there were no roads, was very hard. the logwood cutters were, therefore, men of muscle, fond of violent work. nearly all of them in dampier's time were buccaneers who had lost their old trade. they were "sturdy, strong fellows," able to carry "burthens of three or four hundred weight," and "contented to labour very hard." their hands and arms were always dyed a fine scarlet with the continuous rubbing of the wood, and their clothes always smelt of the little yellow logwood flowers, which smell very sweet and strong, at most seasons of the year. the life lived by the lumbermen was wild, rough, and merry. they had each of them a tent, or a strongly thatched hut, to live in, and most of them had an indian woman or a negress to cook their food. some of them had white wives, which they bought at jamaica for about thirty pounds apiece, or five pounds more than the cost of a black woman. as a rule, they lived close to the lips of the creeks, "for the benefit of the sea-breezes," in little villages of twenty or thirty together. they slept in hammocks, or in indian cots, raised some three or four feet from the ground, to allow for any sudden flood which the heavy rains might raise. they cooked their food on a sort of barbecue strewn with earth. for chairs they used logs of wood or stout rails supported on crutches. on the saturday in each week they left their saws and axes and tramped out into the woods to kill beef for the following week. in the wet seasons, when the savannahs were flooded, they hunted the cattle in canoas by rowing near to the higher grass-lands where the beasts were at graze. sometimes a wounded steer would charge the canoa, and spill the huntsmen in the water, where the alligators nipped them. in the dry months, the hunters went on foot. when they killed a steer they cut the body into four, flung away the bones, and cut a big hole in each quarter. each of the four men of the hunting party then thrust his head through the hole in one of the quarters, and put "it on like a frock," and so trudged home. if the sun were hot, and the beef heavy, the wearer cut some off, and flung it away. this weekly hunting was "a diversion pleasant enough" after the five days' hacking at the red wood near the lagoon-banks. the meat, when brought to camp, was boucanned or jerked--that is, dried crisp in the sun. a quarter of a steer a man was the week's meat allowance. if a man wanted fish or game, in addition, he had to obtain it for himself. this diet was supplemented by the local fruits, and by stores purchased from the ships--such as dried pease, or flour to make doughboys. men who worked hard under a tropical sun, in woods sometimes flooded to a depth of two feet, could hardly be expected to take a pride in their personal appearance. one little vanity they had, and apparently one only--they were fond of perfumes. they used to kill the alligator for his musk-sacs, which they thought "as good civet as any in the world." each logwood cutter carried a musk-sac in his hat to diffuse scent about him, "sweet as arabian winds when fruits are ripe," wheresoever his business led him. the logwood cutters usually formed into little companies of from four to twelve men each. the actual "cutters" had less to do than the other members, for they merely felled the trees. others sawed and hacked the tree trunks into logs. the boss, or chief man in the gang, then chipped away the white sappy rind surrounding the scarlet heart with its crystals of brilliant red. if the tree were very big (and some were six feet round) they split the bole by gunpowder. the red hearts alone were exported, as it is the scarlet crystal (which dries to a dull black after cutting) which gives the wood its value in dyeing. when the timber had been properly cut and trimmed it was dragged to the water's edge, and stacked there ready for the merchants. the chips burnt very well, "making a clear strong fire, and very lasting," in which the rovers used to harden "the steels of their fire arms when they were faulty." when a ship arrived at one bush key the logwood cutters went aboard her for rum and sugar. it was the custom for the ship's captain to give them free drinks on the day of his arrival, "and every man will pay honestly for what he drinks afterwards." if the captain did not set the rum punch flowing with sufficient liberality they would "pay him with their worst wood," and "commonly" they "had a stock of such" ready for the niggard when he came. often, indeed, they would give such a one a load of hollow logs "filled with dirt in the middle, and both ends plugg'd up with a piece of the same." but if the captain commanding were "true steel, an old bold blade, one of the old buccaneers, a hearty brave toss-pot, a trump, a true twopenny"--why, then, they would spend thirty or forty pounds apiece in a drinking bout aboard his ship, "carousing and firing of guns three or four days together." they were a careless company, concerned rather in "the squandering of life away" than in its preservation. drink and song, and the firing of guns, and a week's work chipping blood-wood, and then another drunkenness, was the story of their life there. any "sober men" who came thither were soon "debauched" by "the old standards," and took to "wickedness" and "careless rioting." those who found the work too hard used to go hunting in the woods. often enough they marched to the woods in companies, to sack the indian villages, to bring away women for their solace, and men slaves to sell at jamaica. they also robbed the indians' huts of honey, cocoa, and maize, but then the indians were "very melancholy and thoughtful" and plainly designed by god as game for logwood cutters. in the end the spaniards fell upon the logwood men and carried them away to mexico and vera cruz, sending some to the silver mines, and selling the others to tradesmen. as slaves they passed the next few years, till they escaped to the coast. one of those who escaped told how he saw a captain buckenham, once a famous man at those old drinking bouts, and owner of a sugar ship, working as a slave in the city of mexico. "he saw captain buckenham, with a log chained to his leg, and a basket at his back, crying bread about the streets for a baker his master." in this society of logwood cutters dampier served a brief apprenticeship. he must have heard many strange tales, and jolly songs, around the camp fires of his mates, but none of them, apparently, were fit to print. he went hunting cattle, and got himself "bushed," or marooned--that is, lost--and had a narrow escape from dying in the woods. he helped at the cutting and trimming of the red wood, and at the curing of the hides of the slaughtered steers. when ships arrived he took his sup of rum, and fired his pistol, with the best of them. had he stayed there any length of time he would have become a master logwood merchant, and so "gotten an estate"; but luck was against him. in june , when he was recovering from a guinea-worm, a creature which nests in one's ankle, and causes great torment, a storm, or "south," reduced the logwood cutters of those parts to misery. the south was "long foretold," by the coming in of many sea-birds to the shore's shelter, but the lumbermen "believed it was a certain token of the arrival of ships," and took no precautions against tempest. two days later the wind broke upon them furiously, scattering their huts like scraps of paper. the creek began to rise "faster than i ever saw it do in the greatest spring tide," so that, by noon, the poor wretches, huddled as they were in a hut, without fire, were fain to make ready a canoa to save themselves from drowning. the trees in the woods were torn up by the roots, "and tumbled down strangely across each other." the ships in the creek were blown from their anchors. two of them were driven off to sea, dipping their bows clean under, and making shocking weather of it. one of them was lost in the bay, being whelmed by a green sea. the storm destroyed all the tools and provisions of the lumbermen, and left dampier destitute. his illness, with the poisonous worm in his leg, had kept him from work for some weeks, so that he had no cords of red wood ready cut, "as the old standards had," to buy him new tools and new stores. many of the men were in the same case, so they agreed with the captains of two pirate ketches which called at the creek at that time, to go a cruise to the west to seek their fortunes. they cruised up and down the bay "and made many descents into the country," "where we got indian corn to eat with the beef, and other flesh, that we got by the way." they also attacked alvarado, a little, protected city on the river of that name, but they lost heavily in the attack. of the sixty pirates engaged, ten or eleven were killed or desperately wounded. the fort was not surrendered for four or five hours, by which time the citizens had put their treasure into boats, and rowed it upstream to safety. it was dark by the time the pirates won the fort, so that pursuit was out of the question. they rested there that night, and spent the next day foraging. they killed and salted a number of beeves, and routed out much salt fish and indian corn, "as much as we could stow away." they also took a number of poultry, which the spaniards were fattening in coops; and nearly a hundred tame parrots, "yellow and red," which "would prate very prettily." in short they heaped their decks with hen-coops, parrot-cages, quarters of beef, casks of salt fish, and baskets full of maize. in this state, the ships lay at anchor, with their men loafing on deck with their tobacco, bidding the "yellow and red" parrots to say "damn," or "pretty polly," or other ribaldry. but before any parrot could have lost his spanish accent, the pirates were called from their lessons by the sight of seven spanish warships, under all sail, coming up to the river-bar from la vera cruz. their ports were up, and their guns were run out, and they were not a mile away when the pirates first saw them. as it happened, the river alvarado was full of water, so that these great vessels "could scarce stem the current." this piece of luck saved the pirates, for it gave them time to make sail, and to clear the bar before the spaniards entered the river. as they dropped down the stream, they hove the clutter from the decks. many a pretty polly there quenched her blasphemy in water, and many a lump of beef went to the mud to gorge the alligators. the litter was all overboard, and the men stripped to fight the guns, by the time the tide had swept them over the bar. at this moment they came within range of the spanish flagship, the _toro_, of ten guns and men. she was to windward of them, and perilously close aboard, and her guns sent some cannon-balls into them, without doing any serious harm. dampier was in the leading ship, which stood to the eastward, followed by her consort, as soon as she was over the bar. after her came the _toro_, followed by a ship of four guns, and by five smaller vessels manned with musketeers, "and the vessels barricadoed round with bull-hides breast high." the _toro_ ranged up on the quarter of dampier's ship, "designing to board" her. the pirates dragged their cannon aft, and fired at her repeatedly, "in hopes to have lamed either mast or yard." as they failed to carry away her spars, they waited till "she was shearing aboard," when they rammed the helm hard up, "gave her a good volley," and wore ship. as soon as she was round on the other tack, she stood to the westward, passing down the spanish line under a heavy fire. the _toro_ held to her course, after the second pirate ship, with the six ships of the fleet following in her wake. the second pirate ship was much galled by the fleet's fire, and ran great risk of being taken. dampier's ship held to the westward, till she was about a mile to windward of the other ships. she then tacked, and ran down to assist her consort, "who was hard put to it." as she ran down, she opened fire on the _toro_, "who fell off, and shook her ears," edging in to the shore, to escape, with her fleet after her. they made no fight of it, but tacked and hauled to the wind "and stood away for alvarado." the pirates were very glad to see the last of them; "and we, glad of the deliverance, went away to the eastward." on the way, they visited all the sandy bays of the coast to look for "munjack," "a sort of pitch or bitumen which we find in lumps." when corrected with oil or tallow this natural pitch served very well for the paying of the seams "both of ships and canoas." after this adventure, dampier returned to the lumber camp, and passed about a year there, cutting wood. then, for some reason, he determined to leave the indies, and to visit england; and though he had planned to return to campeachy, after he had been home, he never did so. it seems that he was afraid of living in that undefended place, among those drunken mates of his. they were at all times at the mercy of a spanish man-of-war, and dampier "always feared" that a spanish prison would be his lot if he stayed there. it was the lot of his imprudent mates, "the old standards," a few months after he had sailed for the thames. after a short stay in england, dampier sailed for jamaica, with a general cargo. he sold his goods at port royal, but did not follow his original plan of buying rum and sugar, and going west as a logwood merchant. about christmas he bought a small estate in dorsetshire, "of one whose title to it" he was "well assured of." he was ready to sail for england, to take charge of this estate, and to settle down as a farmer, when he met "one mr hobby," at a tavern, who asked him to go "a short trading voyage to the country of the moskito's." dampier, who was a little short of gold at the moment, was very willing to fill his purse before sailing north. he therefore consented to go with mr hobby, whose ship was then ready for the sea. he "went on board mr hobby," and a fair wind blew them clear of port royal. a day or two of easy sailing brought them to negril bay, "at the west end of jamaica," where dampier had anchored before, when the valorous captain drained the punch-bowl. the bay was full of shipping, for captains coxon, sawkins, sharp, and other buccaneers, were lying there filling their water casks. they had the red wheft flying, for they were bound on the account, to raid the main. the boats alongside them were full of meat and barrels. mr hobby's men did not wait to learn more than the fact that the ships were going cruising. they dumped their chests into the dinghy, and rowed aboard of them, and 'listed themselves among the sunburnt ruffians who were hoisting out the water breakers. dampier and mr hobby were left alone on their ship, within hearing of the buccaneers, who sang, and danced to the fiddle, and clinked the cannikin, till the moon had set. for three or four days they stayed there, hearing the merriment of the rovers, but at the end of the fourth day dampier wearied of mr hobby, and joined the buccaneers, who were glad to have him. a day or two after christmas they got their anchors and set sail. they shaped their course for porto bello, which had recovered something of its old wealth and beauty, in the years of peace it had enjoyed since morgan sacked it. they landed men to the eastward of the town, "at such a distance" that the march "occupied them three nights." during the day they lay in ambush in the woods. as they "came to the town" a negro saw them, and ran to set the bells ringing, to call out the troops. the buccaneers followed him so closely that the town was theirs before the troops could muster. they stayed there forty-eight hours gathering plunder, and then marched back to their ships staggering under a great weight of gold. they shared thirty or forty pounds a man from this raid. afterwards they harried the coast, east and west, and made many rich captures. sawkins, it seems, was particularly lucky, for he made a haul of chests of indigo. warrants were out for all these pirates, and had they been taken they would most surely have been hanged. after these adventures, the squadron made for "a place called boco del toro," "an opening between two islands between chagres and veragua," where "the general rendezvous of the fleet" had been arranged. the ships anchored here, with one or two new-comers, including a french ship commanded by a captain bournano, who had been raiding on the isthmus, "near the south sea," but a few days before. at the council aboard captain sawkins' ship, it was given out, to all the assembled buccaneers, that the spaniards had made peace with the darien indians. this was bad news; but captain bournano was able to assure the company "that since the conclusion of the said peace, they had been already tried, and found very faithful"; for they had been of service to him in his late foray. he added that they had offered to guide him "to a great and very rich place called tocamora," and that he had promised to come to them "with more ships and men," in three months' time. the buccaneers thought that tocamora, apart from the beauty of the name, appeared to promise gold, so they decided to go thither as soon as they had careened and refitted. boca del toro, the anchorage in which they lay, was full of "green tortoise" for ships short of food. there were handy creeks, among the islands, for the ships to careen in, when their hulls were foul. the pirates hauled their ships into the creeks, and there hove them down, while their moskito allies speared the tortoise, and the manatee, along the coast, and afterwards salted the flesh for sea-provision. as soon as the squadron was ready, they mustered at water key, and set sail for golden island, where they meant to hold a final council. on the way to the eastward they put in at the samballoes, or islands of san blas, to fill fresh water, and to buy fruit from the indians. when the anchors held, the indians came aboard with fruit, venison, and native cloth, to exchange for edged iron tools, and red and green beads. they were tall men, smeared with black paint (the women used red, much as in europe), and each indian's nose was hung with a plate of gold or silver. among the women were a few albinos, who were said to see better in the dark than in the light. "these indians misliked our design for tocamora," because the way thither was mountainous and barren and certain to be uninhabited. a force going thither would be sure to starve on the road, they said, but it would be an easy matter to march to panama, as drake had marched. new panama was already a rich city, so that they would not "fail of making a good voyage by going thither." this advice of the indians impressed the buccaneers. they determined to abandon the tocamora project as too dangerous. most of them were in favour of going to sack panama. but captain bournano, and captain row, who commanded about a hundred frenchmen between them, refused to take their men on "a long march by land." perhaps they remembered how morgan had treated the french buccaneers after his panama raid, nine years before. they therefore remained at anchor when the squadron parted company. an indian chief, captain andreas, came aboard the english flagship. the bloody colours were hoisted, and a gun fired in farewell. the english ships then loosed their top-sails and stood away for golden island, to an anchorage they knew of, where a final muster could be held. they dropped anchor there, "being in all seven sail," on rd april . their strength at the samballoes had been as follows:-- tons guns men captain coxon in a ship of captain harris " captain sawkins " captain sharp " captain cook " captain alleston " captain macket " but of these buccaneers a few had remained behind with the frenchmen. while they lay at golden island, the indians brought them word of "a town called santa maria," on the rio santa maria, near the gulf of san miguel, on the pacific coast. it was a garrison town, with four companies of musketeers in its fort, for there were gold mines in the hills behind it. the gold caravans went from it, once a month in the dry seasons, to panama. if the place failed to yield them a booty, the buccaneers were determined to attack new panama. had they done so they would probably have destroyed the place, for though the new city was something stronger than the old, the garrison was in the interior fighting the indians. the design on santa maria was popular. on the matter being put to the vote it was carried without protest. the buccaneers passed the th of april in arranging details, and picking a party to protect the ships during their absence. they arranged that captains alleston and macket, with about twenty-five or thirty seamen, should remain in the anchorage as a ship's guard. the remainder of the buccaneers, numbering able-bodied men (seven of whom were french), were to march with the colours the next morning. on the th of april , these adventurers dropped across the channel from golden island, and landed on the isthmus, somewhere near drake's old anchorage. captain bartholomew sharp, of "the dangerous voyage and bold assaults," came first, with some indian guides, one of whom helped the captain, who was sick and faint with a fever. this vanguard "had a red flag, with a bunch of white and green ribbons." the second company, or main battle, was led by the admiral, richard sawkins, who "had a red flag striped with yellow." the third and fourth companies, which were under one captain (captain peter harris), had two green flags. the fifth and sixth companies, under captain john coxon, "had each of them a red flag." a few of alleston's and macket's men carried arms under coxon in these companies. the rear-guard was led by captain edmund cook, "with red colours striped with yellow, with a hand and sword for his device." "all or most" of the men who landed, "were armed with a french fuzee" (or musket), a pistol and hanger, with two pounds of powder and "proportionable bullet." each of them carried a scrip or satchel containing "three or four cakes of bread," or doughboys, weighing half-a-pound apiece, with some modicum of turtle flesh. "for drink the rivers afforded enough." among the men who went ashore in that company were william dampier, the author of the best books of voyages in the language; lionel wafer, the chirurgeon of the party, who wrote a description of the isthmus; mr basil ringrose, who kept an intimate record of the foray; and captain bartholomew sharp, who also kept a journal, but whose writings are less reliable than those of the other three. it is not often that three historians of such supreme merit as dampier, wafer, and ringrose, are associated in a collaboration so charming, as a piratical raid. wafer had been a surgeon in port royal, but edmund cook had shown him the delights of roving, and the cruise he had made to cartagena had confirmed him in that way of life. basil ringrose had but lately arrived at the indies, and it is not known what induced him to go buccaneering. he was a good cartographer, and had as strong a bent towards the description of natural phenomena, as dampier had. he probably followed the pirates in order to see the world, and to get some money, and to extend his knowledge. sharp had been a pirate for some years, and there was a warrant out for him at jamaica for his share in the sack of porto bello. with dampier's history the reader has been made acquainted. the indians, under captain andreas, led the buccaneers from the landing-place "through a small skirt of wood," beyond which was a league of sandy beach. "after that, we went two leagues directly up a woody valley, where we saw here and there an old plantation, and had a very good path to march in." by dusk they had arrived at a river-bank, beneath which the water lay in pools, joined by trickles and little runlets, which babbled over sun-bleached pebbles. they built themselves huts in this place, about a great indian hut which stood upon the river-bank. they slept there that night, "having nothing but the cold earth for their beds," in much discouragement "with the going back of some of the men." the buccaneers who had been some weeks at sea, were not in marching trim, and it seems that the long day's tramp in the sun had sickened many of them. while they rested in their lodges, an indian king, whom they called "captain antonio," came in to see them. he said that he had sent word to one of his tributaries, farther to the south, to prepare food and lodgings for the buccaneers "against their arrival." as for himself, he wished very much that he could come with them to lead their guides, but unfortunately "his child lay very sick." however, it comforted him to think that the child would be dead by the next day, at latest, "and then he would most certainly follow and overtake" them. he warned the company not to lie in the grass, "for fear of monstrous adders"; and so bowed himself out of camp, and returned home. the kingly prayers seem to have been effectual, for captain antonio was in camp again by sunrise next morning, with no family tie to keep him from marching. as the men sluiced themselves in the river before taking to the road, they noticed that the pebbles shone "with sparks of gold" when broken across. they did not stay to wash the river-mud, for gold dust and golden pellets, but fell in for the march, and climbed from dawn till nearly dusk. they went over "a steep mountain" which was parched and burnt and waterless. four of the buccaneers refused to go farther than the foot of this hill, so they returned to the ships. the others, under the guidance of antonio, contrived to cross the mountain "to an hollow of water," at which they drank very greedily. six miles farther on they halted for the night, beside a stream. they slept there, "under the canopy of heaven," suffering much discomfort from some drenching showers. after some days of climbing, wading, and suffering, the army reached the house of king golden cap, an indian king. the king came out to meet them in his robes, with a little reed crown on his head, lined with red silk, and covered with a thin plate of gold. he had a golden ring in his nose, and a white cotton frock over his shoulders. his queen wore a red blanket, and a blouse "like our old-fashioned striped hangings." this royal couple bade the army welcome, and ordered food to be brought for them. the buccaneers passed a couple of days in king golden cap's city, trading their coloured beads, and scraps of iron, for fresh fruit and meat. they found the indians "very cunning" in bargaining, which means, we suppose, that they thought a twopenny whittle a poor return for a hog or a sack of maize. when the men had rested themselves, and had dried their muddy clothes, they set out again, with captain sawkins in the vanguard. as they marched out of the town "the king ordered us each man to have three plantains, with sugar-canes to suck, by way of a present." they breakfasted on these fruits, as they marched. the road led them "along a very bad path" continually intersected by a river, which they had to wade some fifty or sixty times, to their great misery. they passed a few indian huts on the way, and at each hut door stood an indian to give "as we passed by, to every one of us, a ripe plantain, or some sweet cassava-root." some of the indians counted the army "by dropping a grain of corn for each man that passed before them," for without counters they could not reckon beyond twenty. the army had by this time been swelled by an indian contingent, of about men, "armed with bows, arrows and lances." the indians dropping their corn grains must have dropped nearly before the last man passed them. that night, which was clear and fine, they rested in three large indian huts, where king golden cap's men had stored up food and drink, and a number of canoas, for the voyage south. the river went brawling past their bivouac at a little distance, and some of the men caught fish, and broiled them in the coals for their suppers. at daylight next morning, while they were getting the canoas to the water, captain coxon had "some words" with captain harris (of the green flags). the words ran into oaths, for the two men were surly with the discomforts of turning out. coxon whipped up a gun and fired at peter harris, "which he was [naturally] ready to return." sharp knocked his gun up before he could fire, "and brought him to be quiet; so that we proceeded on our journey." they had no further opportunities for fighting, for sawkins gave the word a moment later for seventy of the buccaneers to embark in the canoas. there were fourteen of these boats, all of them of small size. sharp, coxon, and cook were placed in charge of them. captain harris was told off to travel with the land party, with sawkins, king golden cap, and the other men. don andreas, with twenty-eight other indians (two to a canoa) acted as boatmen, or pilots, to the flotilla. basil ringrose, who was one of the boat party, has told us of the miseries of the "glide down the stream." the river was low, and full of rotting tree trunks, so that "at the distance of almost every stone's cast," they had to leave the boats "and haul them over either sands or rocks, and at other times over trees." sharp, who was of tougher fibre, merely says that they "paddled all day down the falls and currents of the river, and at night took up our quarters upon a green bank by the riverside, where we had wild fowl and plantanes for supper: but our beds were made upon the cold earth, and our coverings were the heavens, and green trees we found there." the next day they went downstream again, over many more snags and shallows, which set them wading in the mud till their boots rotted off their feet. ringrose was too tired to make a note in his journal, save that, that night, "a tiger" came out and looked at them as they sat round the camp fires. sharp says that the labour "was a pleasure," because "of that great unity there was then amongst us," and because the men were eager "to see the fair south sea." they lodged that night "upon a green bank of the river," and ate "a good sort of a wild beast like unto our english hog." the third day, according to ringrose, was the worst day of all. the river was as full of snags as it had been higher up, but the last reach of it was clear water, so that they gained the rendezvous "about four in the afternoon." to their very great alarm they found that the land party had not arrived. they at once suspected that the indians had set upon them treacherously, and cut them off in the woods. but don andreas sent out scouts "in search of them," who returned "about an hour before sun-set," with "some of their number," and a message that the rest would join company in the morning. a little after daybreak the land force marched in, and pitched their huts near the river, "at a beachy point of land," perhaps the very one where oxenham's pinnace had been beached. they passed the whole day there resting, and cleaning weapons, for they were now but "a day and a night's journey" from the town they had planned to attack. many more indians joined them at this last camp of theirs, so that the army had little difficulty in obtaining enough canoas to carry them to santa maria. they set out early the next morning, in sixty-eight canoas, being in all " of us englishmen, and indians." until that day the canoas had been "poled" as a punt is poled, but now they cut oars and paddles "to make what speed we could." all that day they rowed, and late into the night, rowing "with all haste imaginable," and snapping up one or two passing indian boats which were laden with plantains. it was after midnight, and about "two hours before day light," when they ran into a mud bank, about a mile from the town, and stepped ashore, upon a causeway of oars and paddles. they had to cut themselves a path through jungle, as soon as they had crossed the mud, for the town was walled about with tropical forest. they "lay still in the woods, till the light appeared," when they "heard the spaniard discharge his watch at his fort by beat of drum, and a volley of shot." it was the spanish way of changing guard, at daybreak. it was also the signal for the "forlorn" of the buccaneers to march to the battle, under sawkins. this company consisted of seventy buccaneers. as they debouched from the forest, upon open ground, the spaniards caught sight of them and beat to arms. the men in the fort at once opened fire "very briskly," but the advance-guard ran in upon them, tore down some of the stockade, and "entered the fort incontinently." a moment or two of wild firing passed inside the palisades, and then the spanish colours were dowsed. the buccaneers in this storm lost two men wounded, of the fifty who attacked. the spanish loss was twenty-six killed, and sixteen wounded, out of under arms. about fifty more, of the spanish prisoners, were promptly killed by the indians, who took them into the woods and stabbed them "to death" with their lances. it seems that one of that garrison, a man named josef gabriele, had raped king golden cap's daughter who was then with child by him. (gabriele, as it chanced, was not speared, but saved to pilot the pirates to panama.) this was the sole action of the indians in that engagement. during the battle they lay "in a small hollow," "in great consternation" at "the noise of the guns." though the buccaneers had taken the place easily, they had little cause for rejoicing. the town was "a little pitiful place," with a few thatched huts, or "wild houses made of cane," and "but one church in it." the fort "was only stockadoes," designed merely as a frontier post "to keep in subjection the indians" or as a lodging for men employed in the gold mines. there was no more provision in store there than would serve their turn for a week. as for the gold, they had missed it by three days. three hundredweight of gold had been sent to panama while they were struggling downstream. news of their coming had been brought to the fort in time, and "all their treasure of gold," "that huge booty of gold" they had expected to win, had been shipped westward. nor had they any prisoners to hold to ransom. the governor, the town priest, and the chief citizens, had slipped out of the town in boats, and were now some miles away. richard sawkins manned a canoa, and went in chase of them, but they got clear off, to give advice to panama that pirates were come across the isthmus. the only pillage they could find, after torturing their prisoners "severely," amounted to "twenty pounds' weight of gold, and a small quantity of silver." to this may be added a few personal belongings, such as weapons or trinkets, from the chests of the garrison. when the booty, such as it was, had been gathered, the captains held a meeting "to discuss what were best to be done." some were for going to the south sea, to cruise; but john coxon, who had taken porto bello, and hated to be second to sawkins, was for going back to the ships. the general vote was for going to panama, "that city being the receptacle of all the plate, jewels, and gold that is dug out of the mines of all potosi and peru." however, they could not venture on panama without coxon, and coxon's company; so they made coxon their admiral, "coxon seeming to be well satisfied." before starting, they sent their booty back to golden island, under a guard of twelve men. most of the indians fell off at this time, for they had "got from us what knives, scissors, axes, needles and beads they could." old king golden cap, and his son, were less mercenary, and stayed with the colours, being "resolved to go to panama, out of the desire they had to see that place taken and sacked." they may have followed the buccaneers in order to kill the spaniard who had raped the princess, for that worthy was still alive, under guard. he had promised to lead the pirates "even to the very bed-chamber door of the governor of panama." with the vision of this bed-chamber door before them, the pirates embarked at santa maria "in thirty-five canoes" and a ship they had found at anchor in the river. as they "sailed, or rather rowed" downstream, with the ebb, the spanish prisoners prayed to be taken aboard, lest the indians should take them and torture them all to death. "we had much ado to find a sufficient number of boats for ourselves," says ringrose, for the indians had carried many of the canoas away. yet the terror of their situation so wrought upon the spaniards that they climbed on to logs, or crude rafts, or into old canoas, "and by that means shifted so ... as to come along with us." the island chepillo, off the mouth of the cheapo river, had been named as the general rendezvous, but most of the buccaneers were to spend several miserable days before they anchored there. one canoa containing ten frenchmen, was capsized, to the great peril of the frenchmen, who lost all their weapons. ringrose was separated from the company, drenched to the skin, half starved, and very nearly lynched by some spaniards. his th of april was sufficiently stirring to have tired him of going a-roving till his death. he put out "wet and cold," at dawn; was shipwrecked at ten; saved the lives of five spaniards at noon; "took a survey," or drew a sketch of the coast, an hour later; set sail again by four, was taken by the spaniards and condemned to death at nine; was pardoned at ten; sent away "in god's name," "vaya ustad con dios," at eleven; and was at sea again "wet and cold," by midnight. sharp's party was the most fortunate, for as they entered the bay of panama they came to an island "a very pleasant green place," off which a barque of thirty tons came to anchor, "not long before it was dark." the island had a high hummock of land upon it with a little hut, and a stack for a bonfire, at the top. a watchman, an old man, lived in this hut, looking out over the sea for pirates, with orders to fire his beacon, to warn the men on the main if a strange sail appeared. the pirates caught this watchman before the fire was lit. they learned from him that those at panama had not yet heard of their coming. shortly after they had captured the watchman, the little barque aforesaid, came to anchor, and furled her sails. two of sharp's canoas crept out, "under the shore," and laid her aboard "just as it began to be duskish." she proved to be a panama boat, in use as a troop transport. she had just landed some soldiers on the main, to quell some indians, who had been raiding on the frontier. her crew were negroes, indians, and mulattoes. most of the buccaneers, especially those in the small canoas, "endeavoured to get into" this ship, to stretch their legs, and to have the advantage of a shelter. more than contrived to stow themselves in her 'tween decks, under "that sea-artist, and valiant commander" (the words are probably his own) "captain bartholomew sharp." they put to sea in her the next day, followed by the canoas. during the morning they took another small barque, in which captain harris placed thirty men, and hoisted the green flag. the wind fell calm after the skirmish, but the canoas rowed on to chepillo, to the rendezvous, where they found provisions such as "two fat hogs," and some plantains, and a spring of water. a little after dawn, on the day following, while the ships were trying to make the anchorage, captain coxon, and captain sawkins, rowed out from chepillo to board a barque which was going past the island under a press of sail. the wind was so light that the canoas overhauled her, but before they could hook to her chains "a young breeze, freshening at that instant," swept her clear of danger. her men fired a volley into coxon's boat, which the pirates returned. "they had for their breakfast a small fight," says sharp. one of the pirates--a mr bull--was killed with an iron slug. the spaniards got clear away without any loss, "for the wind blew both fresh and fair" for them. three or four pirates were grazed with shot, and some bullets went through the canoas. the worst of the matter was that the spaniards got safely to panama, "to give intelligence of our coming." as they could no longer hope to take the city by surprise, "while the governor was in his bed-chamber," they determined to give the citizens as little time for preparation as was possible. they were still twenty miles from panama, but the canoas could pass those twenty miles in a few hours' easy rowing. they set out at four o'clock in the evening, after they had delivered their spanish prisoners "for certain reasons" (which ringrose "could not dive into") into the hands of the indians. this act of barbarity was accompanied with the order that the indians were "to fight, or rather to murder and slay the said prisoners upon the shore, and that in view of the whole fleet." however, the spaniards rushed the indians, broke through them, and got away to the woods with the loss of but one soldier. after they had watched the scuffle, the pirates rowed away merrily towards panama, "though many showers of rain ceased not to fall." sharp's vessel, with her crew of more than men, made off for the pearl islands, ostensibly to fill fresh water, but really, no doubt, to rob the pearl fisheries. he found a woman (who was "very young and handsome"), and "a case or two of wines," at these islands, together with some poultry. he made a feast there, and stayed at anchor that night, and did not set sail again till noon of the day following, by which time the battle of panama had been fought and won. _authorities._--dampier's voyages. wafer's voyages. ringrose's journal. "the dangerous voyage and bold assaults of captain bartholomew sharp"; "the voyages and adventures of captain bartholomew sharp" (four or five different editions). ringrose's mss., sharp's mss., in the sloane mss. chapter xiv the battle of perico arica--the south sea cruise on rd april , "that day being dedicated to st george, our patron of england," the canoas arrived off panama. "we came," says ringrose, "before sunrise within view of the city of panama, which makes a pleasant show to the vessels that are at sea." they were within sight of the old cathedral church, "the beautiful building whereof" made a landmark for them, reminding one of the buccaneers "of st paul's in london," a church at that time little more than a ruin. the new city was not quite finished, but the walls of it were built, and there were several splendid churches, with scaffolding about them, rising high, here and there, over the roofs of the houses. the townspeople were in a state of panic at the news of the pirates' coming. many of them had fled into the savannahs; for it chanced that, at that time, many of the troops in garrison, were up the country, at war with a tribe of indians. the best of the citizens, under don jacinto de baronha, the admiral of those seas, had manned the ships in the bay. old don peralta, who had saved the golden galleon ten years before, had 'listed a number of negroes, and manned one or two barques with them. with the troops still in barracks, and these volunteers and pressed men, they had manned, in all "five great ships, and three pretty big barks." their force may have numbered men. one account gives the number, definitely, as . the buccaneer force has been variously stated, but it appears certain that the canoas, and periaguas, which took part in the fight, contained only sixty-eight of their company. sharp, as we have seen, had gone with his company to the pearl islands. the remaining men were probably becalmed, in their barques and canoas, some miles from the vanguard. when the buccaneers caught sight of panama, they were probably between that city and the islands of perico and tobagilla. they were in great disorder, and the men were utterly weary with the long night of rowing in the rain, with the wind ahead. they were strung out over several miles of sea, with five light canoas, containing six or seven men apiece, a mile or two in advance. after these came two lumbering periaguas, with sixteen men in each. king golden cap was in one of these latter. dampier and wafer were probably not engaged in this action. ringrose was in the vanguard, in a small canoa. a few minutes after they had sighted the roofs of panama, they made out the ships at anchor off the isle of perico. there were "five great ships and three pretty big barks," manned, as we have said, by soldiers, negroes, and citizens. the men aboard this fleet were in the rigging of their ships, keeping a strict lookout. as they caught sight of the pirates the three barques "instantly weighed anchor," and bore down to engage, under all the sail they could crowd. the great ships had not sufficient men to fight their guns. they remained at anchor; but their crews went aboard the barques, so that the decks of the three men-of-war must have been inconveniently crowded. the spaniards were dead to windwind of the pirates, so that they merely squared their yards, and ran down the wind "designedly to show their valour." they had intended to run down the canoas, and to sail over them, for their captains had orders to give no quarter to the pirates, but to kill them, every man. "such bloody commands as these," adds ringrose piously, "do seldom or never prosper." it was now a little after sunrise. the wind was light but steady; the sea calm. as the spaniards drew within range, the pirates rowed up into the wind's eye, and got to windward of them. their pistols and muskets had not been wetted in the rain, for each buccaneer had provided himself with an oiled cover for his firearms, the mouth of which he stopped with wax whenever it rained. the spanish ships ran past the three leading canoas, exchanging volleys at long range. they were formed in line of battle ahead, with a ship manned by mulattoes, or "tawnymores," in the van. this ship ran between the fourth canoa, in which ringrose was, and the fifth (to leeward of her) commanded by sawkins. as she ran between the boats she fired two thundering broadsides, one from each battery, which wounded five buccaneers. "but he paid dear for his passage"; because the buccaneers gave her a volley which killed half her sail trimmers, so that she was long in wearing round to repeat her fire. at this moment the two periaguas came into action, and got to windward with the rest of the pirates' fleet. while ringrose's company were ramming the bullets down their gun muzzles, the spanish admiral (in the second ship) engaged, "scarce giving us time to charge." she was a fleet ship, and had a good way on her, and her design was to pass between two canoas, and give to each a roaring hot broadside. as she ran down, so near that the buccaneers could look right into her, one of the pirates fired his musket at her helmsman, and shot him through the heart as he steered. the ship at once "broached-to," and lay with her sails flat aback, stopped dead. the five canoas, and one of the periaguas, got under her stern, and so plied her with shot that her decks were like shambles, running with blood and brains, five minutes after she came to the wind. meanwhile richard sawkins ran his canoa--which was a mere sieve of cedar wood, owing to the broadside--alongside the second periagua, and took her steering oar. he ordered his men to give way heartily, for the third spanish ship, under old don peralta, was now bearing down to relieve the admiral. before she got near enough to blow the canoas out of water, captain sawkins ran her on board, and so swept her decks with shot that she went no farther. but "between him and captain sawkins, the dispute, or fight, was very hot, lying board on board together, and both giving and receiving death unto each other as fast as they could charge." indeed, the fight, at this juncture, was extremely fierce. the two spanish ships in action were surrounded with smoke and fire, the men "giving and receiving death" most gallantly. the third ship, with her sail trimmers dead, was to leeward, trying to get upon the other tack. after a time her sailors got her round, and reached to windward, to help the admiral, who was now being sorely battered. ringrose, and captain springer, a famous pirate, "stood off to meet him," in two canoas, as "he made up directly towards the admiral." don jacinto, they noticed, as they shoved off from his flagship, was standing on his quarter-deck, waving "with a handkerchief," to the captain of the tawnymores' ship. he was signalling him to scatter the canoas astern of the flagship. it was a dangerous moment, and ringrose plainly saw "how hard it would go with us if we should be beaten from the admiral's stern." with the two canoas he ran down to engage, pouring in such fearful volleys of bullets that they covered the spaniard's decks with corpses and dying men. "we killed so many of them, that the vessel had scarce men enough left alive, or unwounded, to carry her off. had he not given us the helm, and made away from us, we had certainly been on board him." her decks were littered with corpses, and she was literally running blood. the wind was now blowing fresh, and she contrived to put before it, and so ran out of action, a terrible sight for the panama women. having thus put the tawnymores out of action, ringrose and springer hauled to the wind, and "came about again upon the admiral, and all together gave a loud halloo." the cheer was answered by sawkins' men, from the periagua, as they fired into the frigate's ports. ringrose ran alongside the admiral, and crept "so close" under the vessel's stern, "that we wedged up the rudder." the admiral was shot, and killed, a moment later, as he brought aft a few musketeers to fire out of the stern ports. the ship's pilot, or sailing master, was killed by the same volley. as for the crew, the "stout biscayners," "they were almost quite disabled and disheartened likewise, seeing what a bloody massacre we had made among them with our shot." two-thirds of the crew were killed, "and many others wounded." the survivors cried out for quarter, which had been offered to them several times before, "and as stoutly denied until then." captain coxon thereupon swarmed up her sides, with a gang of pirates, helping up after him the valorous peter harris "who had been shot through both his legs, as he boldly adventured up along the side of the ship." the biscayners were driven from their guns, disarmed, and thrust down on to the ballast, under a guard. all the wounded pirates were helped up to the deck and made comfortable. then, in all haste, the unhurt men manned two canoas, and rowed off to help captain sawkins, "who now had been three times beaten from on board by peralta." a very obstinate and bloody fight had been raging round the third man-of-war. her sides were splintered with musket-balls. she was oozing blood from her scuppers, yet "the old and stout spaniard" in command, was cheerily giving shot for shot. "indeed, to give our enemies their due, no men in the world did ever act more bravely than these spaniards." ringrose's canoa was the first to second captain sawkins. she ran close in, "under peralta's side," and poured in a blasting full volley through her after gun-ports. a scrap of blazing wad fell among the red-clay powder jars in the after magazine. before she could fire a shot in answer, she blew up abaft. ringrose from the canoa "saw his men blown up, that were abaft the mast, some of them falling on the deck, and others into the sea." but even this disaster did not daunt old peralta. like a gallant sea-captain, he slung a bowline round his waist, and went over the side, burnt as he was, to pick up the men who had been blown overboard. the pirates fired at him in the water, but the bullets missed him. he regained his ship, and the fight went on. while the old man was cheering the wounded to their guns, "another jar of powder took fire forward," blowing the gun's crews which were on the fo'c's'le into the sea. the forward half of the ship caught fire, and poured forth a volume of black smoke, in the midst of which richard sawkins boarded, and "took the ship." a few minutes later, basil ringrose went on board, to give what aid he could to the hurt. "and indeed," he says, "such a miserable sight i never saw in my life, for not one man there was found, but was either killed, desperately wounded, or horribly burnt with powder, insomuch that their black skins [the ship was manned with negroes] were turned white in several places, the powder having torn it from their flesh and bones." but if peralta's ship was a charnel-house, the admiral's flagship was a reeking slaughter-pen. of her eighty-six sailors, sixty-one had been killed. of the remaining twenty-five, "only eight were able to bear arms, all the rest being desperately wounded, and by their wounds totally disabled to make any resistance, or defend themselves. their blood ran down the decks in whole streams, and scarce one place in the ship was found that was free from blood." the loss on the tawnymores' ship was never known, but there had been such "bloody massacre" aboard her, that two other barques, in panama roads, had been too scared to join battle, though they had got under sail to engage. according to ringrose, the pirates lost eighteen men killed, and twenty-two men wounded, several of them severely. sharp, who was not in the fight, gives the numbers as eleven killed, and thirty-four wounded. the battle began "about half an hour after sunrise." the last of the spanish fire ceased a little before noon. having taken the men-of-war, captain sawkins asked his prisoners how many men were aboard the galleons, in the perico anchorage. don peralta, who was on deck, "much burnt in both his hands," and "sadly scalded," at once replied that "in the biggest alone there were three hundred and fifty men," while the others were manned in proportion to their tonnage. but one of his men "who lay a-dying upon the deck, contradicted him as he was speaking, and told captain sawkins there was not one man on board any of those ships that were in view." "this relation" was believed, "as proceeding from a dying man," and a few moments later it was proved to be true. the greatest of the galleons, "the most blessed _trinity_," perhaps the very ship in which peralta had saved the treasures of the cathedral church, was found to be empty. her lading of "wine, sugar, and sweetmeats, skins and soap" (or hides and tallow) was still in the hold, but the spaniards had deserted her, after they had set her on fire, "made a hole in her, and loosened [perhaps cut adrift] her foresail." the pirates quenched the fire, stopped the leak, and placed their wounded men aboard her, "and thus constituted her for the time being our hospital." they lay at anchor, at perico, for the rest of that day. on the th of april they seem to have been joined by a large company of those who had been to leeward at the time of the battle. reinforced by these, to the strength of nearly men, they weighed their anchors, set two of the prize galleons on fire with their freights of flour and iron, and removed their fleet to the roads of panama. they anchored near the city, just out of heavy gunshot, in plain view of the citizens. they could see the famous stone walls, which had cost so much gold that the spanish king, in his palace at madrid, had asked his minister whether they could be seen from the palace windows. they marked the stately, great churches which were building. they saw the tower of st anastasius in the distance, white and stately, like a blossom above the greenwood. they may even have seen the terrified people in the streets, following the banners of the church, and the priests in their black robes, to celebrate a solemn mass and invocation. very far away, in the green savannahs, they saw the herds of cattle straying between the clumps of trees. late that night, long after it was dark, captain bartholomew sharp joined company. he had been to chepillo to look for them, and had found their fire "not yet out," and a few dead spaniards, whom the indians had killed, lying about the embers. he had been much concerned for the safety of the expedition, and was therefore very pleased to find that "through the divine assistance" the buccaneers had triumphed. at supper that night he talked with don peralta, who told him of some comets, "two strange comets," which had perplexed the quito merchants the year before. there was "good store of wine" aboard the _trinity_ galleon, with which all hands "cheered up their hearts for a while." then, having set sentinels, they turned in for the night. the next day they buried captain peter harris, "a brave and stout soldier, and a valiant englishman, born in the county of kent, whose death [from gunshot wounds] we very much lamented." with him they buried another buccaneer who had been hurt in the fight. the other wounded men recovered. they would probably have landed to sack the town on this day, had not a quarrel broken out between some of the company and captain coxon. the question had been brought forward, whether the buccaneers should go cruising in the south sea, in their prizes, or return, overland, to their ships at golden island. it was probably suggested, as another alternative, that they should land to sack the town. all the captains with one exception were for staying in the pacific "to try their fortunes." captain coxon, however, was for returning to golden island. he had been dissatisfied ever since the fight at santa maria. he had not distinguished himself particularly in the fight off perico, and no doubt he felt jealous that the honours of that battle should have been won by sawkins. sawkins' men taunted him with "backwardness" in that engagement, and "stickled not to defame, or brand him with the note of cowardice." to this he answered that he would be very glad to leave that association, and that he would take one of the prizes, a ship of fifty tons, and a periagua, to carry his men up the santa maria river. those who stayed, he added, might heal his wounded. that night he drew off his company, with several other men, in all about seventy hands. with them he carried "the best of our doctors and medicines," and the hearty ill will of the other buccaneers. old king golden cap accompanied these deserters, leaving behind him his son and a nephew, desiring them to be "not less vigorous" than he had been in harrying the spanish. just before coxon set sail, he asked bartholomew sharp to accompany him. but that proven soul "could not hear of so dirty and inhuman an action without detestation." so coxon sailed without ally, "which will not much redound to his honour," leaving all his wounded on the deck of the captured galleon. the fleet, it may be added, had by this time returned to the anchorage at perico. they lay there ten days in all, "debating what were best to be done." in that time they took a frigate laden with fowls. they took the poultry for their own use, and dismissed some of "the meanest of the prisoners" in the empty ship. they then shifted their anchorage to the island of taboga, where there were a few houses, which some drunken pirates set on fire. while they lay at this island the merchants of panama came off to them "and sold us what commodities we needed, buying also of us much of the goods we had taken in their own vessels." the pirates also sold them a number of negroes they had captured, receiving "two hundred pieces of eight for each negro we could spare." "and here we took likewise several barks that were laden with fowls." after coxon's defection, richard sawkins was re-elected admiral, and continued in that command till his death some days later. before they left taboga, captain sharp went cruising to an island some miles distant to pick up some straggling drunkards who belonged to his ship. while he lay at anchor, in a dead calm, waiting for a breeze to blow, a great spanish merchant ship hove in sight, bound from lima (or truxillo) to panama. sharp ran his canoas alongside, and bade her dowse her colours, at the same time sending a gang of pirates over her rail, to throw the crew under hatches. "he had no arms to defend himself with, save only rapiers," so her captain made no battle, but struck incontinently. she proved to be a very splendid prize, for in her hold were nearly jars of wine and brandy, jars of good vinegar, and a quantity of powder and shot, "which came very luckily." in addition to these goods there were , pieces of eight, " pieces of eight a man," a pile of silver sent to pay the panama soldiery; and a store of sweetmeats, such as peru is still famous for. and there were "other things," says sharp, "that were very grateful to our dis-satisfied minds." some of the wine and brandy were sold to the panama merchants a few days later, "to the value of three thousand pieces of eight." a day or two after this they snapped up two flour ships, from paita. one of these was a pretty ship of a fine model, of about tons. sharp fitted her for himself, "for i liked her very well." the other flour ship was taken very gallantly, under a furious gunfire from panama castle. the buccaneers rowed in, with the cannon-balls flying over their heads. they got close alongside "under her guns," and then towed her out of cannon-shot. they continued several days at taboga, waiting for a lima treasure ship, aboard which, the spaniards told them, were £ in silver dollars. while they waited for this ship the governor at panama wrote to ask them why they had come into those seas. captain sawkins answered that they had come to help king golden cap, the king of darien, the true lord of those lands, and that, since they had come so far, "there was no reason but that they should have some satisfaction." if the governor would send them pieces of eight for each man, and double that sum for each captain, and, further, undertake "not any farther to annoy the indians," why, then, the pirates would leave those seas, "and go away peaceably. if the governor would not agree to these terms, he might look to suffer." a day or two later, sawkins heard that the bishop of panama had been bishop at santa martha (a little city on the main), some years before, when he (sawkins) helped to sack the place. he remembered the cleric favourably, and sent him "two loaves of sugar," as a sort of keepsake, or love-offering. "for a retaliation," the bishop sent him a gold ring; which was very christian in the bishop, who must have lost on the exchange. the bearer of the gold ring, brought also an answer from the governor, who desired to know who had signed the pirates' commissions. to this message captain sawkins sent back for answer: "that as yet all his company were not come together, but that when they were come up, we would come and visit him at panama, and bring our commissions on the muzzles of our guns, at which time he should read them as plain as the flame of gunpowder could make them." with this thrasonical challenge the pirates set sail for otoque, another of the islands in the bay; for taboga, though it was "an exceeding pleasant island," was by this time bare of meat. before they left the place a frenchman deserted from them, and gave a detailed account of their plans to the spanish governor. it blew very hard while they were at sea, and two barques parted company in the storm. one of them drove away to the eastward, and overtook john coxon's company. the other was taken by the spaniards. about the th or st of may, after several days of coasting, the ships dropped anchor on the north coast of the island of quibo. from here some sixty men, under captain sawkins, set sail in edmund cook's ship, to attack pueblo nuevo, the new town, situated on the banks of a river. at the river's mouth, which was broad, with sandy beaches, they embarked in canoas, and rowed upstream, under the pilotage of a negro, from dark till dawn. the french deserter had told the spaniards of the intended attack, so that the canoas found great difficulty in getting upstream. trees had been felled so as to fall across the river, and indian spies had been placed here and there along the river-bank to warn the townsmen of the approach of the boats. a mile below the town the river had been made impassable, so here the pirates went ashore to wait till daybreak. when it grew light they marched forward, to attack the strong wooden breastworks which the spaniards had built. captain sawkins was in advance, with about a dozen pirates. captain sharp followed at a little distance with some thirty more. as soon as sawkins saw the stockades he fired his gun, and ran forward gallantly, to take the place by storm, in the face of a fierce fire. "being a man that nothing upon earth could terrifie" he actually reached the breastwork, and was shot dead there, as he hacked at the pales. two other pirates were killed at his side, and five of the brave forlorn were badly hurt. "the remainder drew off, still skirmishing," and contrived to reach the canoas "in pretty good order," though they were followed by spanish sharpshooters for some distance. sharp took command of the boats and brought them off safely to the river's mouth, where they took a barque full of maize, before they arrived at their ship. sawkins was "as valiant and courageous as any could be," "a valiant and generous-spirited man, and beloved above any other we ever had among us, which he well deserved." his death left the company without a captain, and many of the buccaneers, who had truly loved richard sawkins, were averse to serving under another commander. they were particularly averse to serving under sharp, who took the chief command from the moment of sawkins' death. at quibo, where they lay at anchor, "their mutiny" grew very high, nor did they stick at mere mutiny. they clamoured for a tarpaulin muster, or "full councel," at which the question of "who should be chief" might be put to the vote. at the council, sharp was elected "by a few hands," but many of the pirates refused to follow him on the cruise. he swore, indeed, that he would take them such a voyage as should bring them £ a man; but the oaths of sharp were not good security, and the mutiny was not abated. many of the buccaneers would have gone home with coxon had it not been for sawkins. these now clamoured to go so vehemently that sharp was constrained to give them a ship with as much provision "as would serve for treble the number." the mutineers who left on this occasion were in number sixty-three. twelve indians, the last who remained among the pirates, went with them, to guide them over the isthmus. men remained with sharp. it is probable that many of these would have returned at this time, had it not been that "the rains were now already up, and it would be hard passing so many gullies, which of necessity would then be full of water." ringrose, wafer and dampier remained among the faithful, but rather on this account, than for any love they bore their leader. the mutineers had hardly set sail, before captain cook came "a-board" sharp's flagship, finding "himselfe a-grieved." his company had kicked him out of his ship, swearing that they would not sail with such a one, so that he had determined "to rule over such unruly folk no longer." sharp gave his command to a pirate named cox, a new englander, "who forced kindred, as was thought, upon captain sharp, out of old acquaintance, in this conjuncture of time, only to advance himself." cox took with him don peralta, the stout old andalusian, for the pirates were plying the captain "of the money-ship we took," to induce him to pilot them to guayaquil "where we might lay down our silver, and lade our vessels with gold." they feared that an honest man, such as peralta, "would hinder the endeavours" of this captain juan, and corrupt his kindly disposition. with these mutinies, quarrels, intrigues, and cabals did the buccaneers beguile their time. they stayed at quibo until th june, filling their water casks, quarrelling, cutting wood, and eating turtle and red deer. they also ate huge oysters, so large "that we were forced to cut them into four pieces, each quarter being a large mouthful." on the th of june they set sail for the isle of gorgona, off what is now columbia, where they careened the _trinity_, and took "down our round house coach and all the high carved work belonging to the stern of the ship; for when we took her from the spaniards she was high as any third rate ship in england." while they were at work upon her, sharp changed his design of going for guayaquil, as one of their prisoners, an old moor, "who had long time sailed among the spaniards," told him that there was gold at arica, in such plenty that they would get there "£ a man." he did not hurry to leave his careenage, though he must have known that each day he stayed there lessened his chance of booty. it was nearly august when he left gorgona, and "from this time forward to the th of october there was nothing occurr'd but bare sailing." now and then they ran short of water, or of food. one or two of their men died of fever, or of rum, or of sunstroke. two or three were killed in capturing a small spanish ship. the only other events recorded, are the falls of rain, the direction of the wind, the sight of "watersnakes of divers colours," and the joyful meeting with captain cox, whom they had lost sight of, while close in shore one evening. they called at "sir francis drake's isle" to strike a few tortoises, and to shoot some goats. captain sharp we read, here "showed himself very ingenious" in spearing turtle, "he performing it as well as the tortoise strikers themselves." it was very hot at this little island. many years before drake had gone ashore there to make a dividend, and had emptied bowls of gold coins into the hats of his men, after the capture of the _cacafuego_. some of the pirates sounded the little anchorage with a greasy lead, in the hopes of bringing up the golden pieces which drake had been unable to carry home, and had hove into the sea there. they got no gold, but the sun shone "so hot that it burnt the skin off the necks of our men," as they craned over the rail at their fishery. at the end of october they landed at the town of hilo to fill fresh water. they took the town, and sacked its sugar refineries, which they burnt. they pillaged its pleasant orange groves, and carried away many sacks of limes and green figs "with many other fruits agreeable to the palate." fruit, sugar, and excellent olive oil were the goods which hilo yielded. they tried to force the spaniards to bring them beef, but as the beef did not come, they wrecked the oil and sugar works, and set them blazing, and so marched down to their ships, skirmishing with the spanish horse as they fell back. among the spoil was the carcass of a mule (which made "a very good meal"), and a box of chocolate "so that now we had each morning a dish of that pleasant liquor," such as the grand english ladies drank. the next town attacked was la serena, a town five miles from the present coquimbo. they took the town, and found a little silver, but the citizens had had time to hide their gold. the pirates made a great feast of strawberries "as big as walnuts," in the "orchards of fruit" at this place, so that one of their company wrote that "'tis very delightful living here." they could not get a ransom for the town, so they set it on fire. the spaniards, in revenge, sent out an indian, on an inflated horse hide, to the pirates' ship the _trinity_. this indian thrust some oakum and brimstone between the rudder and the sternpost, and "fired it with a match." the sternpost caught fire and sent up a prodigious black smoke, which warned the pirates that their ship was ablaze. they did not discover the trick for a few minutes, but by good fortune they found it out in time to save the vessel. they landed their prisoners shortly after the fire had been quenched "because we feared lest by the example of this stratagem they should plot our destruction in earnest." old don peralta, who had lately been "very frantic," "through too much hardship and melancholy," was there set on shore, after his long captivity. don juan, the captain of the "money-ship," was landed with him. perhaps the two fought together, on the point of honour, as soon as they had returned to swords and civilisation. from coquimbo the pirates sailed for juan fernandez. on the way thither they buried william cammock, one of their men, who had drunk too hard at la serena "which produced in him a calenture or malignant fever, and a hiccough." "in the evening when the pale magellan clouds were showing we buried him in the sea, according to the usual custom of mariners, giving him three french vollies for his funeral." on christmas day they were beating up to moorings, with boats ahead, sounding out a channel for the ship. they did not neglect to keep the day holy, for "we gave in the morning early three vollies of shot for solemnization of that great festival." at dusk they anchored "in a stately bay that we found there," a bay of intensely blue water, through which the whiskered seals swam. the pirates filled fresh water, and killed a number of goats, with which the island swarmed. they also captured many goats alive, and tethered them about the decks of the _trinity_, to the annoyance of all hands, a day or two later, when some flurries of wind drove them to sea, to search out a new anchorage. shortly after new year's day , "our unhappy divisions, which had been long on foot, began now to come to an head to some purpose." the men had been working at the caulking of their ship, with design to take her through the straits of magellan, and so home to the indies. many of the men wished to cruise the south seas a little longer, while nearly all were averse to plying caulking irons, under a burning sun, for several hours a day. there was also a good deal of bitterness against captain sharp, who had made but a poor successor to brave richard sawkins. he had brought them none of the gold and silver he had promised them, and few of the men were "satisfied, either with his courage or behaviour." on the th january a gang of pirates "got privately ashoar together," and held a fo'c's'le council under the greenwood. they "held a consult," says sharp, "about turning me presently out, and put another in my room." john cox, the "true-hearted dissembling new-england man," whom sharp "meerly for old acquaintance-sake" had promoted to be captain, was "the main promoter of their design." when the consult was over, the pirates came on board, clapped mr sharp in irons, put him down on the ballast, and voted an old pirate named john watling, "a stout seaman," to be captain in his stead. one buccaneer says that "the true occasion of the grudge against sharp was, that he had got by these adventures almost a thousand pounds, whereas many of our men were not worth a groat," having "lost all their money to their fellow buccaneers at dice." captain edmund cook, who had been turned out of his ship by his men, was this day put in irons on the confession of a shameless servant. the curious will find the details of the case on page , of the edition of ringrose's journal. john watling began his captaincy in very godly sort, by ordering his disciples to keep holy the sabbath day. sunday, "january the ninth, was the first sunday that ever we kept by command and common consent, since the loss and death of our valiant commander captain sawkins." sawkins had been strict in religious matters, and had once thrown the ship's dice overboard "finding them in use on the said day." since sawkins' death the company had grown notoriously lax, but it is pleasant to notice how soon they returned to their natural piety, under a godly leader. with edmund cook down on the ballast in irons, and william cook talking of salvation in the galley, and old john watling expounding the gospel in the cabin, the galleon, "the most holy _trinity_" must have seemed a foretaste of the new jerusalem. the fiddler ceased such "prophane strophes" as "abel brown," "the red-haired man's wife," and "valentinian." he tuned his devout strings to songs of zion. nay the very boatswain could not pipe the cutter up but to a phrase of the psalms. in this blessed state they washed their clothes in the brooks, hunted goats across the island, and burnt and tallowed their ship the _trinity_. but on the th of january, one of their boats, which had been along the coast with some hunters, came rowing furiously into the harbour, "firing of guns." they had espied three spanish men-of-war some three or four miles to leeward, beating up to the island under a press of sail. the pirates were in great confusion, for most of them were ashore, "washing their clothes," or felling timber. those on board, hove up one of their anchors, fired guns to call the rest aboard, hoisted their boats in, and slipped their second cable. they then stood to sea, hauling as close to the wind as she would lie. one of the mosquito indians, "one william," was left behind on the island, "at this sudden departure," and remained hidden there, living on fish and fruit, for many weary days. he was not the first man to be marooned there; nor was he to be the last. the three spanish men-of-war were ships of good size, mounting some thirty guns among them. as the pirate ship beat out of the harbour, sheeting home her topgallant-sails, they "put out their bloody flags," which the pirates imitated, "to shew them that we were not as yet daunted." they kept too close together for the pirates to run them aboard, but towards sunset their flagship had drawn ahead of the squadron. the pirates at once tacked about so as to engage her, intending to sweep her decks with bullets, and carry her by boarding. john watling was not very willing to come to handystrokes, nor were the spaniards anxious to give him the opportunity. no guns were fired, for the spanish admiral wore ship, and so sailed away to the island, when he brought his squadron to anchor. the pirates called a council, and decided to give them the slip, having "outbraved them," and done as much as honour called for. they were not very pleased with john watling, and many were clamouring for the cruise to end. it was decided that they should not attack the spanish ships, but go off for the main, to sack the town of arica, where there was gold enough, so they had heard, to buy them each "a coach and horses." they therefore hauled to the wind again, and stood to the east, in very angry and mutinous spirit, until the th of january. on that day they landed at yqueque, a mud-flat, or guano island, off a line of yellow sand-hills. they found a few indian huts there, with scaffolds for the drying of fish, and many split and rotting mackerel waiting to be carried inland. there was a dirty stone chapel in the place, "stuck full of hides and sealskins." there was a great surf, green and mighty, bursting about the island with a continual roaring. there were pelicans fishing there, and a few indians curing fish, and an abominable smell, and a boat, with a cask in her bows, which brought fresh water thither from thirty miles to the north. the teeth of the indians were dyed a bright green by their chewing of the coca leaf, the drug which made their "beast-like" lives endurable. there was a silver mine on the mainland, near this fishing village, but the pirates did not land to plunder it. they merely took a few old indian men, and some spaniards, and carried them aboard the _trinity_, where the godly john watling examined them. the next day the examination continued; and the answers of one of the old men, "a mestizo indian," were judged to be false. "finding him in many lies, as we thought, concerning arica, our commander ordered him to be shot to death, which was accordingly done." this cold-blooded murder was committed much against the will of captain sharp, who "opposed it as much as he could." indeed, when he found that his protests were useless, he took a basin of water (of which the ship was in sore need) and washed his hands, like a modern pilate. "gentlemen," he said, "i am clear of the blood of this old man; and i will warrant you a hot day for this piece of cruelty, whenever we come to fight at arica." this proved to be "a true and certain prophesy." sharp was an astrologer, and a believer in portents; but he does not tell us whether he had "erected any figure," to discover what was to chance in the arica raid. * * * * * arica, the most northern port in chile, has still a considerable importance. it is a pleasant town, fairly well watered, and therefore more green and cheerful than the nitrate ports. it is built at the foot of a hill (a famous battlefield) called the morro. low, yellow sand-hills ring it in, shutting it from the vast blue crags of the andes, which rise up, splintered and snowy, to the east. the air there is of an intense clearness, and those who live there can see the tacna churches, forty miles away. it is no longer the port it was, but it does a fair trade in salt and sulphur, and supplies the nitrate towns with fruit. when the pirates landed there it was a rich and prosperous city. it had a strong fort, mounting twelve brass guns, defended by four companies of troops from lima. the city had a town guard of soldiers. there was also an arsenal full of firearms for the use of householders in the event of an attack. it was not exactly a walled town, like new panama, but a light wooden palisade ran round it, while other palisades crossed each street. these defences had been thrown up when news had arrived of the pirates being in those seas. all the "plate, gold and jewels" of the townsfolk had been carefully hidden, and the place was in such a state of military vigilance and readiness that the pirates had no possible chance of taking it, or at least of holding it. when the pirates came upon it there were several ships in the bay, laden with commodities from the south of chile. [illustration: _a description of_ arica] on the th of january, john watling picked men, and put off for the shore in boats and canoas, to attack the town. by the next day they had got close in shore, under the rocks by the san vitor river's mouth. there they lay concealed till the night. at dawn of the th january , "the martyrdom of our glorious king charles the first," they were dipping off some rocks four miles to the south of arica. here ninety-two of the buccaneers landed, leaving a small boat guard, with strict instructions how to act. they were told that if the main body "made one smoke from the town," as by firing a heap of powder, one canoa was to put in to arica; but that, if two smokes were fired, all the boats were to put in at once. basil ringrose was one of those who landed to take part in the fight. dampier, it is almost certain, remained on board the _trinity_, becalmed some miles from the shore. wafer was in the canoas, with the boat guard, preparing salves for those wounded in the fight. the day seems to have been hot and sunny--it could scarcely have been otherwise--but those out at sea, on the galleon, could see the streamers of cloud wreathing about the andes. at sunrise the buccaneers got ashore, amongst the rocks, and scrambled up a hill which gave them a sight of the city. from the summit they could look right down upon the streets, little more than a mile from them. it was too early for folk to be stirring, and the streets were deserted, save for the yellow pariahs, and one or two carrion birds. it was so still, in that little town, that the pirates thought they would surprise the place, as drake had surprised nombre de dios. but while they were marching downhill, they saw three horsemen watching them from a lookout place, and presently the horsemen galloped off to raise the inhabitants. as they galloped away, john watling chose out forty of the ninety-two, to attack the fort or castle which defended the city. this band of forty, among whom were sharp and ringrose, carried ten hand-grenades, in addition to their pistols and guns. the fort was on a hill above the town, and thither the storming party marched, while watling's company pressed on into the streets. the action began a few minutes later with the guns of the fort firing on the storming party. down in the town, almost at the same moment, the musketry opened in a long roaring roll which never slackened. ringrose's party waited for no further signal, but at once engaged, running in under the guns and hurling their firepots through the embrasures. the grenades were damp, or badly filled, or had been too long charged. they did not burst or burn as they should have done, while the garrison inside the fort kept up so hot a fire, at close range, that nothing could be done there. the storming party fell back, without loss, and rallied for a fresh attack. they noticed then that watling's men were getting no farther towards the town. they were halted in line, with their knees on the ground, firing on the breastworks, and receiving a terrible fire from the spaniards. five of the fifty-two men were down (three of them killed) and the case was growing serious. the storming party left the fort, and doubled downhill into the firing line, where they poured in volley after blasting volley, killing a spaniard at each shot, making "a very desperate battle" of it, "our rage increasing with our wounds." no troops could stand such file-firing. the battle became "mere bloody massacre," and the spaniards were beaten from their posts. volley after volley shook them, for the pirates "filled every street in the city with dead bodies"; and at last ran in upon them, and clubbed them and cut them down, and penned them in as prisoners. but as the spaniards under arms were at least twenty times as many as the pirates, there was no taking the city from them. they were beaten from post to post fighting like devils, but the pirates no sooner left a post they had taken, "than they came another way, and manned it again, with new forces and fresh men." the streets were heaped with corpses, yet the spaniards came on, and came on again, till the sand of the roads was like red mud. at last they were fairly beaten from the chief parts of the town, and numbers of them were penned up as prisoners; more, in fact, than the pirates could guard. the battle paused for a while at this stage, and the pirates took advantage of the lull to get their wounded (perhaps a dozen men), into one of the churches to have their wounds dressed. as the doctors of the party began their work, john watling sent a message to the fort, charging the garrison to surrender. the soldiers returned no answer, but continued to load their guns, being helped by the armed townsfolk, who now flocked to them in scores. the fort was full of musketeers when the pirates made their second attack a little after noon. at the second attack, john watling took of his prisoners, placed them in front of his storming party, and forced them forward, as a screen to his men, when he made his charge. the garrison shot down friend and foe indiscriminately, and repulsed the attack, and repulsed a second attack which followed a few minutes later. there was no taking the fort by storm, and the pirates had no great guns with which to batter it. they found, however, that one of the flat-roofed houses in the town, near the fort's outworks, commanded the interior. "we got upon the top of the house," says ringrose, "and from there fired down into the fort, killing many of their men and wounding them at our ease and pleasure." while they were doing this, a number of the lima soldiers joined the citizens, and fell, with great fury, upon the prisoners' guards in the town. they easily beat back the few guards, and retook the city. as soon as they had taken the town, they came swarming out to cut off the pirates from their retreat, and to hem them in between the fort and the sea. they were in such numbers that they were able to surround the pirates, who now began to lose men at every volley, and to look about them a little anxiously as they bit their cartridges. from every street in the town came spanish musketeers at the double, swarm after swarm of them, perhaps a couple of thousand. the pirates left the fort, and turned to the main army, at the same time edging away towards the south, to the hospital, or church, where their wounded men were being dressed. as they moved away from the battlefield, firing as they retreated, old john watling was shot in the liver with a bullet, and fell dead there, to go buccaneering no more. a moment later "both our quartermasters" fell, with half-a-dozen others, including the boatswain. all this time the cannon of the fort were pounding over them, and the round-shot were striking the ground all about, flinging the sand into their faces. what with the dust and the heat and the trouble of helping the many hurt, their condition was desperate. "so that now the enemy rallying against us, and beating us from place to place, we were in a very distracted condition, and in more likelihood to perish every man than escape the bloodiness of that day. now we found the words of captain sharp to bear a true prophecy, being all very sensible that we had had a day too hot for us, after that cruel heat in killing and murdering in cold blood the old mestizo indian whom we had taken prisoner at yqueque." in fact they were beaten and broken, and the fear of death was on them, and the spaniards were ringing them round, and the firing was roaring from every point. they were a bloody, dusty, choking gang of desperates, "in great disorder," black with powder, their tongues hanging out with thirst. as they stood grouped together, cursing and firing, some of them asked captain sharp to take command, and get them out of that, seeing that watling was dead, and no one there could give an order. to this request sharp at last consented, and a retreat was begun, under cover of a fighting rear-guard, "and i hope," says sharp, "it will not be esteemed a vanity in me to say, that i was mighty helpful to facilitate this retreat." in the midst of a fearful racket of musketry, he fought the pirates through the soldiers to the church where the wounded lay. there was no time, nor was there any conveyance, for the wounded, and they were left lying there, all desperately hurt. the two surgeons could have been saved "but that they had been drinking while we assaulted the fort, and thus would not come with us when they were called." there was no time for a second call, for the spaniards were closing in on them, and the firing was as fierce as ever. the men were so faint with hunger and thirst, the heat of battle, and the long day's marching, that sharp feared he would never get them to the boats. a fierce rush of spaniards beat them away from the hospital, and drove them out of the town "into the savannas or open fields." the spaniards gave a cheer and charged in to end the battle, but the pirates were a dogged lot, and not yet at the end of their strength. they got into a clump or cluster, with a few wounded men in the centre, to load the muskets, "resolving to die one by another" rather than to run. they stood firm, cursing and damning the spaniards, telling them to come on, and calling them a lot of cowards. there were not fifty buccaneers fit to carry a musket, but the forty odd, unhurt men stood steadily, and poured in such withering volleys of shot, with such terrible precision, that the spanish charge went to pieces. as the charge broke, the pirates plied them again, and made a "bloody massacre" of them, so that they ran to shelter like so many frightened rabbits. the forty-seven had beaten off twenty or thirty times their number, and had won themselves a passage home. there was no question of trying to retake the town. the men were in such misery that the march back to the boats taxed their strength to the breaking point. they set off over the savannah, in as good order as they could, with a wounded man, or two, in every rank of them. as they set forward, a company of horsemen rode out, and got upon their flanks "and fired at us all the way, though they would not come within reach of our guns; for their own reached farther than ours, and out-shot us more than one third." there was great danger of these horsemen cutting in, and destroying them, on the long open rolls of savannah, so sharp gave the word, and the force shogged westward to the seashore, along which they trudged to the boats. the beach to the south of arica runs along the coast, in a narrow strip, under cliffs and rocky ground, for several miles. the sand is strewn with boulders, so that the horsemen, though they followed the pirates, could make no concerted charge upon them. some of them rode ahead of them and got above them on the cliff tops, from which they rolled down "great stones and whole rocks to destroy us." none of these stones did any harm to the pirates, for the cliffs were so rough and broken that the skipping boulders always flew wide of the mark. but though the pirates "escaped their malice for that time," they were yet to run a terrible danger before getting clear away to sea. the spaniards had been examining, or torturing, the wounded pirates, and the two drunken surgeons, left behind in the town. "these gave them our signs that we had left to our boats [_i.e._ revealed the signals by which the boats were to be called] so that they immediately blew up two smokes, which were perceived by the canoas." had the pirates "not come at the instant" to the seaside, within hail of the boats, they would have been gone. indeed they were already under sail, and beating slowly up to the northward, in answer to the signal. thus, by a lucky chance, the whole company escaped destruction. they lost no time in putting from the shore, where they had met with "so very bad entertainment." they "got on board about ten a clock at night; having been involved in a continual and bloody fight ... all that day long." of the ninety-two, who had landed that morning, twenty-eight had been left ashore, either dead, or as prisoners. of the sixty-four who got to the canoas, eighteen were desperately wounded, and barely able to walk. most of the others were slightly hurt, while all were too weary to do anything, save sleep or drink. of the men left behind in the hospital the spaniards spared the doctors only; "they being able to do them good service in that country." "but as to the wounded men," says ringrose, "they were all knocked on the head," and so ended their roving, and came to port where drunken doctors could torture them no longer. the ylo men denied this; and said that the seven pirates who did not die of their wounds were kept as slaves. the spanish loss is not known, but it was certainly terrible. the hilo, or ylo people, some weeks later, said that seventy spaniards had been killed and about wounded. all the next day the pirates "plied to and fro in sight of the port," hoping that the spaniards would man the ships in the bay, and come out to fight. they reinstated sharp in his command, for they had now "recollected a better temper," though none of them, it seems, wished for any longer stay in the south sea. the arica fight had sickened them of the south sea, while several of them (including ringrose) became very ill from the exposure and toil of the battle. they beat to windward, cruising, when they found that the spaniards would not put to sea to fight them. they met with dirty weather when they had reached the thirtieth parallel, and the foul weather, and their bad fortune made them resolve to leave those seas. at a fo'c's'le council held on the rd of march, they determined to put the helm up, and to return to the north sea. they were short of water and short of food, "having only one cake of bread a day," or perhaps half-a-pound of "doughboy," for their "whack" or allowance. after a few days' running before the wind they came to "the port of guasco," now huasco, between coquimbo and caldera, a little town of sixty or eighty houses, with copper smeltries, a church, a river, and some sheep-runs. sixty of the buccaneers went ashore here, that same evening, to get provisions, "and anything else that we could purchase." they passed the night in the church, or "in a churchyard," and in the morning took " sheep and fourscore goats," about bushels of corn "ready ground," some fowls, a fat hog, any quantity of fruit, peas, beans, etc., and a small stock of wine. these goods they conveyed aboard as being "fit for our turn." the inhabitants had removed their gold and silver while the ship came to her anchor, "so that our booty here, besides provisions, was inconsiderable." they found the fat hog "very like our english pork," thereby illustrating the futility of travel; and so sailed away again "to seek greater matters." before they left, they contrived to fill their water jars in the river, a piece of work which they found troublesome, owing to the height of the banks. [illustration: _a description of_ hilo] from huasco, where the famous white raisins grow, they sailed to ylo, where they heard of their mates at arica, and secured some wine, figs, sugar, and molasses, and some "fruits just ripe and fit for eating," including "extraordinary good oranges of the china sort" they then coasted slowly northward, till by saturday, th april, they arrived off the island of plate. here their old bickerings broke out again, for many of the pirates were disgusted with sharp, and eager to go home. many of the others had recovered their spirits since the affair at arica, and wished to stay in the south seas, to cruise a little longer. those who had fought at arica would not allow sharp to be deposed a second time, while those who had been shipkeepers on that occasion, were angry that he should have been re-elected. the two parties refused to be reconciled. they quarrelled angrily whenever they came on deck together, and the party spirit ran so high that the company of shipkeepers, the anti-sharp faction, "the abler and more experienced men," at last refused to cruise any longer under sharp's command. the fo'c's'le council decided that a poll should be taken, and "that which party soever, upon polling, should be found to have the majority, should keep the ship." the other party was to take the long boat and the canoas. the division was made, and "captain sharp's party carried it." the night was spent in preparing the long boat and the canoas, and the next morning the boats set sail. chapter xv across the isthmus the way home--sufferings and adventures at "about ten a clock" in the morning of th april , the mutineers went over the side into their "lanch and canoas, designing for the river santa maria, in the gulf of st michael." "we were in number," says dampier, who was of the party, " white men who bore arms, a _spanish indian_, who bore arms also; and two _moskito indians_," who carried pistols and fish spears. lionel wafer "was of mr dampier's side in that matter," and acted as surgeon to the forty-seven, until he met with his accident. they embarked in the ship's launch or long boat, one canoa "and another canoa which had been sawn asunder in the middle, in order to have made bumkins, or vessels for carrying water, if we had not separated from our ship." this old canoa they contrived to patch together. for provisions they brought with them "so much flower as we could well carry"; which "flower" "we" had been industriously grinding for the last three days. in addition to the "flower" they had "rubbed up or pound of chocolate with sugar to sweeten it." and so provided, they hoisted their little sails and stood in for the shore. "the sea breeze came in strong" before they reached the land, so that they had to cut up an old dry hide to make a close-fight round the launch "to keep the water out." they took a small timber barque the next morning, and went aboard her, and sailed her over to gorgona, where they scrubbed her bottom. they learned from their prisoners that the spaniards were on the alert, eagerly expecting them, and cruising the seas with fast advice boats to get a sight of them. three warships lay at panama, ready to hunt them whenever the cruisers brought news of their whereabouts. a day or two later, the pirates saw "two great ships," with many guns in their ports, slowly beating to the southward in search of their company. the heavy rain which was falling kept the small timber barque hidden, while the pirates took the precautions of striking sail, and rowing close in shore. "if they had seen and chased us," the pirates would have landed, trusting to the local indians to make good their escape over the isthmus. after twelve days of sailing they anchored about twenty miles from the san miguel gulf, in order to clean their arms, and dry their clothes and powder, before proceeding up the river, by the way they had come. the next morning they set sail into the gulf, and anchored off an island, intending to search the river's mouth for spaniards before adventuring farther. as they had feared, a large spanish man-of-war lay anchored at the river's mouth, "close by the shore," with her guns commanding the entrance. some of her men could be seen upon the beach, by the door of a large tent, made of the ship's lower canvas. "when the canoas came aboard with this news," says dampier, "some of our men were a little dis-heartned; but it was no more than i ever expected." an hour or two later they took one of the spaniards from the ship and learned from him that the ship carried twelve great guns, and that three companies of men, with small arms, would join her during the next twenty-four hours. they learned also that the indians of that district were friendly to the spaniards. plainly the pirates were in a dangerous position. "it was not convenient to stay longer there," says dampier. they got aboard their ship without loss of time, and ran out of the river "with the tide of ebb," resolved to get ashore at the first handy creek they came to. early the next morning they ran into "a small creek within two keys, or little islands, and rowed up to the head of the creek, being about a mile up, and there we landed may , ." the men flung their food and clothes ashore, and scuttled their little ship, so that she sank at her moorings. while they packed their "snap-sacks" with flour, chocolate, canisters of powder, beads, and whittles for the indians, their slaves "struck a plentiful dish of fish" for them, which they presently broiled, and ate for their breakfasts. some of the men scouted on ahead for a mile or two, and then returned with the news that there were no immediate dangers in front of them. some of the pirates were weak and sick, and "not well able to march." "we," therefore, "gave out, that if any man faultred in the journey over land he must expect to be shot to death; for we knew that the spaniards would soon be after us, and one man falling into their hands might be the ruin of us all, by giving an account of our strength and condition: yet this would not deter 'em from going with us." at three that afternoon they set out into the jungle, steering a n.e. course "by our pocket compasses." the rain beat upon them all the rest of that day, and all the night long, a drenching and steady downpour, which swamped the "small hutts" they contrived to patch together. in the morning they struck an old indian trail, no broader than a horse-girth, running somewhat to the east. they followed it through the forest till they came to an indian town, where the squaws gave them some corn-drink or miscelaw, and sold them a few fowls and "a sort of wild hogs." they hired a guide at this village, "to guide us a day's march into the countrey." "he was to have for his pains a hatchet, and his bargain was to bring us to a certain indians habitation, who could speak spanish." they paid faithfully for the food the indians gave them, and shared "all sorts of our provisions in common, because none should live better than others," and so stand a better chance of crossing the isthmus. when they started out, after a night's rest, one of the pirates, being already sick of the march, slipped away into the jungle, and was seen no more. they found the spanish-speaking indian in a bad mood. he swore that he knew no road to the north sea, but that he could take them to cheapo, or to santa maria, "which we knew to be spanish garrisons: either of them at least miles out of our way." he was plainly unwilling to have any truck with them, for "his discourse," was in an angry tone, and he "gave very impertinent answers" to the questions put to him. "however we were forced to make a virtue of necessity, and humour him, for it was neither time nor place to be angry with the indians; all our lives lying in their hand." the pirates were at their wits' end, for they lay but a few miles from the guard ship, and this surly chief could very well set the spaniards on them. they tempted him with green and blue beads, with gold and silver, both in the crude and in coin, with beautiful steel axe heads, with machetes, "or long knives"; "but nothing would work on him." the pirates were beginning to despair, when one of them produced "a sky-coloured petticoat," and placed it about the person of the chief's favourite wife. how he had become possessed of such a thing, and whether it came from a hilo beauty, and whether she gave it as a love token, on the ship's sailing, cannot now be known. it may have been an article brought expressly from jamaica for the fascination of the indians. but _honi soit qui mal y pense_. the truth of the matter will never be learned. it is sufficient that the man produced it in the very nick of time, and laid the blue tissue over the copper-coloured lady. she was so much pleased with it "that she immediately began to chatter to her husband, and soon brought him into a better humour." he relented at once, and said that he knew the trail to the north sea, and that he would gladly guide them thither were a cut upon his foot healed. as he could not go himself he persuaded another indian to guide them " days march further for another hatchet." he tried hard to induce the party to stay with him for the rest of the day as the rain was pouring down in torrents. "but our business required more haste, our enemies lying so near us, for he told us that he could go from his house aboard the guard-ship in a tides time; and this was the th day since they saw us. so we marched miles further and then built hutts, where we stayed all night," with the thatch dripping water on to them in a steady trickle. on taking to the road again, wet and starving as they were, they found themselves in a network of rivers, some thirty of which they had to wade, during the day's march. the heavy rain drenched them as they clambered along across the jungle. they had but a little handful of fire that night, so that they could not dry nor warm themselves. they crouched about the "funk of green-wood," shivering in the smoke, chewing bullets to alleviate their hunger. they slept there in great misery, careless of what happened to them. "the spaniards were but seldom in our thoughts," says dampier, for the pirates thought only of guides and food, and feared their own indian servants more than the enemy. a watch of two pirates kept a guard all that night, with orders to shoot any indian who showed a sign of treachery. they rose before it was light and pushed on into the woods, biting on the bullet, or the quid, to help them to forget their hunger. by ten o'clock they arrived at the house of a brisk young indian, who had been a servant to the bishop of panama, the man who gave the gold ring to sawkins. here they had a feast of yams and sweet potatoes, boiled into a broth with monkey-meat, a great comfort to those who were weak and sickly. they built a great fire in one of the huts, at which they dried their clothes, now falling to pieces from the continual soakings. they also cleaned their rusty gun-locks, and dried their powder, talking cheerily together, about the fire, while the rain roared upon the thatch. they were close beside the rio congo "and thus far," says dampier, the most intelligent man among them, "we might have come in our canoa, if i could have persuaded them to it." as they sat in the hut, in the warmth of the blaze, that rainy may day, lionel wafer met with an accident. he was sitting on the ground, beside one of the pirates, who was drying his powder, little by little, half a pound at a time, in a great silver dish, part of the plunder of the cruise. "a careless fellow passed by with his pipe lighted," and dropped some burning crumb of tobacco on to the powder, which at once blew up. it scorched wafer's knee very terribly, tearing off the flesh from the bone, and burning his leg from the knee to the thigh. wafer, who was the surgeon of the party, had a bag full of salves and medicines. he managed to dress his wounds, and to pass a fairly comfortable night, "and being unwilling to be left behind by my companions, i made hard shift to jog on, and bear them company," when camp was broken at daybreak. lame as he was, he kept up with his mates all that day, fording rivers "several times," and crossing country which would tax the strongest man, in good condition. "the last time we forded the river, it was so deep, that our tallest men stood in the deepest place, and handed the sick, weak and short men"; by which act of comradeship "we all got over safe." two of the pirates, "robert spratlin and william bowman," could get no farther, and were left behind at the river. dampier notes that his "joint of bambo, which i stopt at both ends, closing it with wax, so as to keep out any water," preserved his "journal and other writings from being wet," though he had often to swim for it. drenched and tired, they pitched their huts by the river-bank, poor wafer in torment from his knee, and the rest of them hungry and cold. they had hardly finished their huts, when the river came down in a great wall of water, some sudden flood, due to a cloud-burst higher up. the flood sucked away their huts, and forced them to run to higher ground. they passed that night "straggling in the woods, some under one tree, some under another," with the thunder roaring overhead, and the lightning making a livid brightness all about them. the rain fell in torrents, and the pirates were far too wretched to keep watch. "so our slaves, taking opportunity, went away in the night; all but one, who was hid in some hole, and knew nothing of their design, or else fell asleep." among these slaves was a black man, lionel wafer's assistant, who carried the salves and medicaments. he took these with him when he slunk away, nor did he forget the "chirurgeon's gun and all his money." he left poor wafer destitute there, in the forest, "depriv'd of wherewithal to dress my sore." in the morning, they found that the river had fallen, but not so much as they had hoped. it was still too deep to ford, and the current ran very swiftly, but dampier and some other swimmers managed to swim across. they then endeavoured to get a line over, by which to ferry the men who could not swim, and the arms and powder they had left on the other bank. they decided to send a man back with a line, with instructions to pass the goods first, and then the men. "one george gayny took the end of a line and made it fast about his neck, and left the other end ashore, and one man stood by the line, to clear it away to him." when gayny was about half way across, the line, which was kinky with the wet, got entangled. the man who was lighting it out checked it a moment to take out the kink, or to clear it. the check threw gayny on his back, "and he that had the line in his hand," instead of slacking away, or hauling in, so as to bring gayny ashore, "threw it all into the river after him, thinking he might recover himself." the stream was running down with great fierceness. gayny had a bag of dollars on his back, and this bag, with the weight of the line, dragged him under. he was carried down, and swept out of sight "and never seen more by us." "this put a period to that contrivance," adds dampier grimly. as they had no wish to emulate poor gayny, they sought about "for a tree to fell across the river." they cut it down, as soon as they had found it, "and it reached clean over." the goods and pirates were then crossed in safety. all hands soon forgot poor gayny, for they came across a plantain walk in a clearing, and made a good breakfast, and stripped it of every fruit. they dismissed their guide here, with the gift of an axe head, and hired an old indian to guide them farther towards the north sea. the next day they reckoned themselves out of danger, and set forth cheerily. for the last two days wafer had been in anguish from his burnt knee. as the pirates made ready to leave their bivouac, on the tenth morning of the march, he declared that he could not "trudge it further through rivers and woods," with his knee as it was. two other pirates who were broken with the going, declared that they, also, were too tired out to march. there was no talk, among the rest of the band, about shooting the weary ones, according to the order they had made at starting. instead of "putting them out of their misery," they "took a very kind leave," giving the broken men such stores as they could spare, and telling them to keep in good heart, and follow on when they had rested. one of wafer's comrades on this occasion was "mr richard jopson, who had served an apprenticeship to a druggist in london. he was an ingenious man, and a good scholar; he had with him a greek testament which he frequently read, and would translate _extempore_ into _english_, to such of the company as were dispos'd to hear him." the other weary man was john hingson, a mariner. they watched their mates march away through the woods, and then turned back, sick at heart, to the shelter of the huts, where the indians looked at them sulkily, and flung them green plantains, "as you would bones to a dog." one of the indians made a mess of aromatic herbs and dressed wafer's burn, so that, in three weeks' time, he could walk. dampier's party marched on through jungle, wading across rivers, which took them up to the chest, staggering through swamps and bogs, and clambering over rotten tree trunks, and across thorn brakes. they were wet and wretched and half starved, for their general food was macaw berries. sometimes they killed a monkey, once dampier killed a turkey, and once they came to a plantain patch where "we fed plentifully on plantains, both ripe and green." their clothes were rotted into shreds, their boots were fallen to pieces, their feet were blistered and raw, their legs were mere skinless ulcers from the constant soaking. their faces were swelled and bloody from the bites of mosquitoes and wood-ticks. "not a man of us but wisht the journey at an end." those who have seen "bad lands," or what is called "timber," or what is called "bush," will know what the party looked like, when, on the twenty-second day, they saw the north sea. the day after that they reached the rio conception, and drifted down to the sea in some canoas, to an indian village, built on the beach "for the benefit of trade with the privateers." about nine miles away, the indians told them, was a french privateer ship, under one captain tristian, lying at la sounds key. they stayed a night at the village, and then went aboard the french ship, which was careened in a creek, with a brushwood fire on her side, cleaning away her barnacles for a roving cruise. here they parted with their indian guides, not without sorrow, for it is not pleasant to say "so long" to folk with whom one has struggled, and lived, and suffered. "we were resolved to reward them to their hearts' content," said dampier, much as a cowboy, at the end of the trail, will give sugar to his horse, as he bids him good-bye. the pirates spent their silver royally, buying red, blue and green beads, and knives, scissors, and looking-glasses, from the french pirates. they bought up the entire stock of the french ship, but even then they felt that they had not rewarded their guides sufficiently. they therefore subscribed a half-dollar piece each, in coin, as a sort of makeweight. with the toys, and the bags of silver, the delighted indians passed back to the isthmus, where they told golden stories of the kind whites, so that the indians of the main could not do enough for wafer, and for the four pirates left behind on the march. dampier's party had marched in all miles, over the most damnable and heart-breaking country which the mind of man can imagine. they had marched "heavy," with their guns and bags of dollars; and this in the rainy season. they had starved and suffered, and shivered and agonised, yet they had lost but two men, poor gayny, who was drowned, and (apparently) one who had slipped away on the third day of the march. this man may have been the spanish indian. a note in ringrose's narrative alludes to the capture of one of dampier's party by the spanish soldiers, and this may have been the man meant. two days later, when the indian guides had gone, and the privateer was fit for the sea, they set sail for "the rendezvous of the fleet," which had been fixed for springers' key "another of the samballoes isles." perhaps the english pirates hove up the anchor, the grand privilege of the guests, aboard ship, to the old anchor tune, with its mournful and lovely refrain-- "i'll go no more a-roving with you, fair maid." the old band of never-strikes were outward bound on another foray. as for wafer, and his two companions, they stayed with the indians for some days, living on plantains (given very grudgingly), and wondering whether the indians would kill them. the natives were kindly, as a rule, to the french and english, but it was now the rainy season, when they liked to stay in their huts, about their fires. the pirates "had in a manner awed the indian guides they took ... and made them go with them very much against their wills." the indians had resented this act of the pirates, and as days went by, and the guides did not return, they judged that the white men had killed them. they prepared "a great pile of wood to burn us," says wafer, meaning to avenge their fellows, whom they "had supposed dead." but a friendly old chief dissuaded them from this act, a few hours before the intended execution. while the three were living thus, in doubt whether they would be speared, or held as slaves, or sold to the spaniards, the two pirates, spratlin and bowman, who had been left behind at the rio congo, arrived at the village. they had had a terrible journey together, "among the wild woods and rivers," wandering without guides, and living on roots and plantains. on their way, they had come upon george gayny "lying dead in a creek where the eddy had driven him ashore," "with the rope twisted about him, and his money at his neck." they left the body where it lay, with its sack of silver dollars for which the poor man had come so far, and suffered so bitterly. they had no use for dollars at that time "being only in care how to work their way through a wild un-known country." after a time, the indians helped the five men a two days' march on their journey, and then deserted them, leaving them to find the path by themselves, with no better guide than a pocket compass. while crossing a river by the bole of a fallen tree, the man bowman "a weakly man, a taylor by trade," slipped into the current, and was carried off, with " pieces of eight" in his satchel. he was luckier than poor gayny, for he contrived to get out. in time they reached the north sea, and came to la sounds key, according to the prophecy of an indian wizard. here they found dampier's sloop, and rejoined their comrades, to the great delight of all hands. "mr wafer wore a clout about him, and was painted like an indian," so that "'twas the better part of an hour, before one of the crew cry'd out here's our doctor." there was a great feast that night at la sounds key, much drinking of rum and firing of small arms, and a grand ringing of bells in honour of the happy return. in spite of all they could do, poor mr jopson, or cobson, only lived for three or four days after he reached the ship. "his fatigues, and his drenching in the water" had been too much for the poor man. he lay "languishing" in his cot for a few days, babbling of the drugs of bucklersbury, and thumbing his greek testament, and at last passed in his checks, quietly and sadly, and "died there at la sounds key." they buried the poor man in the sands, with very genuine sorrow, and then bade the indians adieu, and gave their dead mate a volley of guns, and so set sail, with the colours at half-mast, for "the more eastern isles of the samballoes." as for captain bartholomew sharp, in the ship the _trinity_, he continued to sail the south seas with the seventy pirates left to him. some days after dampier's party sailed, he took a guayaquil ship, called the _san pedro_, which he had taken fourteen months before off panama. aboard her he found nearly , pieces of eight, besides silver bars, and ingots of gold. he also took a great ship called the _san rosario_, the richest ship the buccaneers ever captured. she had many chests of pieces of eight aboard her, and a quantity of wine and brandy. down in her hold, bar upon bar, "were pigs of plate," rough silver from the mines, not yet fitted for the lima mint. the pirates thought that this crude silver was tin, and so left it where it lay, in the hold of the _rosario_ "which we turned away loose into the sea," with the stuff aboard her. one pig of the was brought aboard the pirates "to make bullets of." about two-thirds of it was "melted and squandered," but some of it was left long afterwards, when the _trinity_ touched at antigua. here they gave what was left to "a bristol man," probably in exchange for a dram of rum. the bristol man took it home to england "and sold it there for £ sterling." "thus," said ringrose, "we parted with the richest booty we got in the whole voyage." captain bartholomew sharp was responsible for the turning adrift of all this silver. some of the pirates had asked leave to hoist it aboard the _trinity_. but it chanced that, aboard the _rosario_, was a spanish lady, "the beautifullest creature" that the "eyes" of captain sharp ever beheld. the amorous captain was so inflamed by this beauty that he paid no attention to anything else. in a very drunken and quarrelsome condition, the pirates worked the _trinity_ round the horn, and so home to barbadoes. they did not dare to land there, for one of the king's frigates, h.m.s. _richmond_, was lying at bridgetown, and the pirates "feared lest the said frigate should seize us." they bore away to antigua, where ringrose, and "thirteen more," shipped themselves for england. they landed at dartmouth on the th of march . a few more of the company went ashore at antigua, and scattered to different haunts. sharp and a number of pirates landed at nevis, from whence they shipped for london. the ship the _trinity_ was left to seven of the gang who had diced away all their money. what became of her is not known. sharp and a number of his men were arrested in london, and tried for piracy, but the spanish ambassador, who brought the charge, was without evidence and could not obtain convictions. they pleaded that "the spaniards fired at us first," and that they had acted only in self-defence, so they 'scaped hanging, though sharp admits that they "were very near it." three more of the crew were laid by the heels at jamaica, and one of these was "wheedled into an open confession," and condemned, and hanged. "the other two stood it out, and escaped for want of witnesses." of the four men so often quoted in this narrative, only one, so far as we know, died a violent death. this was basil ringrose, who was shot at santa pecaque a few years later. it is not known how dampier, wafer, and sharp died, but all lived adventurously, and went a-roving, for many years after the _trinity_ dropped her anchor off antigua. they were of that old breed of rover whose port lay always a little farther on; a little beyond the sky-line. their concern was not to preserve life, "but rather to squander it away"; to fling it, like so much oil, into the fire, for the pleasure of going up in a blaze. if they lived riotously let it be urged in their favour that at least they lived. they lived their vision. they were ready to die for what they believed to be worth doing. we think them terrible. life itself is terrible. but life was not terrible to them; for they were comrades; and comrades and brothers-in-arms are stronger than life. those who "live at home at ease" may condemn them. they are free to do so. the old buccaneers were happier than they. the buccaneers had comrades, and the strength to live their own lives. they may laugh at those who, lacking that strength, would condemn them with the hate of impotence. chapter xvi ships and rigs galleys--dromonds--galliasses--pinnaces--pavesses--top-arming-- banners--boats until the reign of henry viii. the shipping of these islands was of two kinds. there were longships, propelled, for the most part, by oars, and used generally as warships; and there were roundships, or dromonds, propelled by sails, and used as a rule for the carriage of freight. the dromond, in war-time, was sometimes converted into a warship, by the addition of fighting-castles fore and aft. the longship, in peace time, was no doubt used as a trader, as far as her shallow draught, and small beam, allowed. the longship, or galley, being, essentially, an oar vessel, had to fulfil certain simple conditions. she had to be light, or men might not row her. she had to be long, or she might not carry enough oarsmen to propel her with sufficient swiftness. her lightness, and lack of draught, made it impossible for her to carry much provision; while the number of her oars made it necessary for her to carry a large crew of rowers, in addition to her soldiers and sail trimmers. it was therefore impossible for such a ship to keep the seas for any length of time, even had their build fitted them for the buffetings of the stormy home waters. for short cruises, coast work, rapid forays, and "shock tactics," she was admirable; but she could not stray far from a friendly port, nor put out in foul weather. the roundship, dromond, or cargo boat, was often little more than two beams long, and therefore far too slow to compete with ships of the galley type. she could stand heavy weather better than the galley, and she needed fewer hands, and could carry more provisions, but she was almost useless as a ship of war. in the reign of henry viii. the shipwrights of this country began to build ships which combined something of the strength, and capacity of the dromond, with the length and fineness of the galley. the ships they evolved were mainly dependent upon their sails, but they carried a bank of oars on each side, for use in light weather. the galley, or longship, had carried guns on a platform at the bows, pointing forward. but these new vessels carried guns in broadside, in addition to the bow-chasers. these broadside guns were at first mounted _en barbette_, pointing over the bulwarks. early in the sixteenth century the port-hole, with a hinged lid, was invented, and the guns were then pointed through the ship's sides. as these ships carried more guns than the galleys, they were built more strongly, lest the shock of the explosions should shake them to pieces. they were strong enough to keep the seas in bad weather, yet they had enough of the galley build to enable them to sail fast when the oars were laid inboard. it is thought that they could have made as much as four or five knots an hour. these ships were known as galliasses,[ ] and galleons, according to the proportions between their lengths and beams. the galleons were shorter in proportion to their breadth than the galliasses.[ ] there was another kind of vessel, the pinnace, which had an even greater proportionate length than the galliasse. of the three kinds, the galleon, being the shortest in proportion to her breadth, was the least fitted for oar propulsion. [footnote : see charnock's "marine architecture."] [footnote : see corbett's "drake and the tudor navy."] [illustration: an elizabethan galleon] during the reign of elizabeth, the galleon, or great ship, and the galliasse, or cruiser, grew to gradual perfection, in the hands of our great sailors. if we look upon the galleon or great ship as the prototype of the ship of the line, and on the galliasse as the prototype of the frigate, and on the pinnace as the prototype of the sloop, or corvette, we shall not be far wrong. they were, of course, in many ways inferior to the ships which fought in the great french wars, two centuries later, but their general appearance was similar. the rig was different, but not markedly so, while the hulls of the ships presented many points of general likeness. the elizabethan ships were, however, very much smaller than most of the rated ships in use in the eighteenth century. [illustration: a galliasse] the galleon, or great ship, at the end of the sixteenth century, was sometimes of as much as tons. she was generally low in the waist, with a high square forecastle forward, a high quarter-deck, raised above the waist, just abaft the main-mast, and a poop above the quarter-deck, sloping upward to the taffrail. these high outerworks were shut off from the open waist (the space between the main-mast and the forecastle) by wooden bulkheads, which were pierced for small, quick-firing guns. below the upper, or spar deck, she had a gun-deck, if not more than one, with guns on each side, and right aft. the galliasse was sometimes flush-decked, without poop and forecastle, and sometimes built with both, but she was never so "high charged" as the galleon. the pinnace was as the galliasse, though smaller. the galleon's waist was often without bulwarks, so that when she went into action it became necessary to give her sail trimmers, and spar-deck fighting men, some protection from the enemy's shot.[ ] sometimes this was done by the hauling up of waist-trees, or spars of rough untrimmed timber, to form a sort of wooden wall. sometimes they rigged what was called a top-arming, or top armour, a strip of cloth like the "war girdle" of the norse longships, across the unprotected space. this top-arming was of canvas some two bolts deep ( feet inches), gaily painted in designs of red, yellow, green, and white. it gave no protection against shot, but it prevented the enemy's gunners from taking aim at the deck, or from playing upon the hatchways with their murderers and pateraroes. it also kept out boarders, and was a fairly good shield to catch the arrows and crossbow bolts shot from the enemy's tops. sometimes the top-arming was of scantling, or thin plank, in which case it was called a pavesse. pavesses were very beautifully painted with armorial bearings, arranged in shields, a sort of reminiscence of the old norse custom of hanging the ship's sides with shields. another way was to mask the open space with a ranged hemp cable, which could be cleared away after the fight. [footnote : see sir w. monson, "naval tracts," and sir r. hawkins, "observations," etc.] the ships were rigged much as they were rigged two centuries later. the chief differences were in the rigging of the bowsprit and of the two after masts. forward the ships had bowsprits, on which each set a spritsail, from a spritsail yard. the foremast was stepped well forward, almost over the spring of the cutwater. generally, but not always, it was made of a single tree (pine or fir). if it was what was known as "a made mast," it was built up of two, or three, or four, different trees, judiciously sawn, well seasoned, and then hooped together. masts were pole-masts until early in the reign of elizabeth, when a fixed topmast was added. by drake's time they had learned that a movable topmast was more useful, and less dangerous for ships sailing in these waters. the caps and tops were made of elm wood. the sails on the foremast were foresail and foretop-sail, the latter much the smaller and less important of the two. they were set on wooden yards, the foreyard and foretopsail-yard, both of which could be sent on deck in foul weather. the main-mast was stepped a little abaft the beam, and carried three sails, the main-sail, the main topsail, and a third, the main topgallant-sail. this third sail did not set from a yard until many years after its introduction. it began life like a modern "moon-raker," a triangular piece of canvas, setting from the truck, or summit of the topmast, to the yardarm of the main topsail-yard. up above it, on a bending light pole, fluttered the great colours, a george's cross of scarlet on a ground of white. abaft the main-mast were the mizzen, carrying one sail, on a lateen yard, one arm of which nearly touched the deck; and the bonaventure mizzen (which we now call the jigger) rigged in exactly the same way. right aft, was a banner pole for the display of colours. these masts were stepped, stayed, and supported almost exactly as masts are rigged to-day, though where we use iron, and wire, they used wood and hemp. the shrouds of the fore and main masts led outboard, to "chains" or strong platforms projecting from the ship's sides. these "chains" were clamped to the ship's sides with rigid links of iron. the shrouds of the after masts were generally set up within the bulwarks. on each mast, just above the lower yard, yet below the masthead, was a fighting-top built of elm wood and gilded over. it was a little platform, resting on battens, and in ancient times it was circular, with a diameter of perhaps six or seven feet. it had a parapet round it, inclining outboard, perhaps four feet in height. it was entered by a lubber's hole in the flooring, through which the shrouds passed. in each top was an arm chest containing spanish darts, crossbows, longbows, arrows, bolts, and perhaps granadoes. when the ship went into battle a few picked marksmen were stationed in the tops with orders to search the enemy's decks with their missiles, particularly the afterparts, where the helmsman stood. in later days the tops were armed with light guns, of the sorts known as slings and fowlers; but top-fighting with firearms was dangerous, as the gunners carried lighted matches, and there was always a risk of sparks, from the match, or from the wads, setting fire to the sails. the running rigging was arranged much as running rigging is arranged to-day, though its quality, in those times, was probably worse than nowadays. the rope appears to have been very fickle stuff which carried away under slight provocation. the blocks were bad, for the sheaves were made of some comparatively soft wood, which swelled, when wet, and jammed. lignum vitæ was not used for block-sheaves until after the dutch war in cromwell's time. iron blocks were in use in the time of henry viii. but only as fair-leads for chain topsail sheets, and as snatches for the boarding of the "takkes." the shrouds and stays, were of hawser stuff, extremely thick nine-stranded hemp; and all those parts exposed to chafing (as from a sail, or a rope) were either served, or neatly covered up with matting. the matting was made by the sailors, of rope, or white line, plaited curiously. when in its place it was neatly painted, or tarred, much as one may see it in norwegian ships at the present day. the yardarms, and possibly the chains, were at one time fitted with heavy steel sickles, projecting outboard, which were kept sharp, so that, when running alongside an enemy, they might cut her rigging to pieces. these sickles were known as sheer-hooks. they were probably of little use, for they became obsolete before the end of the reign of queen elizabeth. [illustration: an elizabethan galleon] most of the sails used in these old ships were woven in portsmouth on hand-looms. the canvas was probably of good quality, as good perhaps as the modern stout no. , for hand-woven stuff is always tighter, tougher, better put together, than that woven by the big steam-loom. it was at one time the custom to decorate the sail, with a design of coloured cloth, cut out, as one cuts out a paper pattern, and stitched upon its face with sail twine. in the royal ships this design was of lions rampant, cut out of scarlet say. the custom of carrying such coloured canvas appears to have died out by the end of the sixteenth century. perhaps flag signalling had come into vogue making it necessary to abandon anything that might tend to confuse the colours. about the same time we abandoned the custom of making our ships gay with little flags, of red and white linen, in guidons like those on a trooper's lance. all through the tudor reigns our ships carried them, but for some reason the practice was allowed to die out. a last relic of it still flutters on blue water in the little ribbons of the wind-vane, on the weather side the poop, aboard sailing ships. the great ship carried three boats, which were stowed on chocks in the waist, just forward of the main-mast, one inside the other when not in use. the boats were, the long boat, a large, roomy boat with a movable mast; the cock, cog or cok boat, sometimes called the galley-watt; and the whale, or jolly boat, a sort of small balenger, with an iron-plated bow, which rowed fourteen oars. it was the custom to tow one or more of these boats astern, when at sea, except in foul weather, much as one may see a brig, or a topsail schooner, to-day, with a dinghy dragging astern. the boat's coxswain stayed in her as she towed, making her clean, fending her off, and looking out for any unfortunate who chanced to fall overboard. _authorities._--w. charnock: "history of marine architecture." julian corbett: "drake and the tudor navy." a. jal: "archeologie navale"; "glossaire nautique." sir w. monson: "naval tracts." sir h. nicholas: "history of the royal navy." m. oppenheim: "history of the administration of the royal navy"; "naval inventories of the reign of henry vii." chapter xvii guns and gunners breech-loaders--cartridges--powder--the gunner's art cannon were in use in europe, it is thought, in the eleventh century; for the art of making gunpowder came westward, from china, much earlier than people have supposed. it is certain that gunpowder was used "in missiles," before it was used to propel them. the earliest cannon were generally of forged iron built in strips secured by iron rings. they were loaded by movable chambers which fitted into the breech, and they were known as "crakys of war." we find them on english ships at the end of the fourteenth century, in two kinds, the one a cannon proper, the other an early version of the harquebus-a-croc. the cannon was a mere iron tube, of immense strength, bound with heavy iron rings. the rings were shrunken on to the tube in the ordinary way. the tube, when ready, was bolted down to a heavy squared beam of timber on the ship's deck. it was loaded by the insertion of the "gonne-chambre," an iron pan, containing the charge, which fitted into, and closed the breech. this gonne-chambre was wedged in firmly by a chock of elm wood beaten in with a mallet. another block of wood, fixed in the deck behind it, kept it from flying out with any violence when the shot was fired. cannon of this sort formed the main armament of ships until after the reign of henry the eighth. they fired stone cannon-balls, "pellettes of lead, and dyce of iron." each gun had some half-dozen chambers, so that the firing from them may have been rapid, perhaps three rounds a minute. the powder was not kept loose in tubs, near the guns, but neatly folded in conical cartridges, made of canvas or paper (or flannel) which practice prevailed for many years. all ships of war carried "pycks for hewing stone-shott," though after , "the iron shott callyd bowletts," and their leaden brothers, came into general use. the guns we have described, were generally two or four pounders, using from half-a-pound, to a pound and a quarter, of powder, at each discharge. the carriage, or bed, on which they lay, was usually fitted with wheels at the rear end only. the other early sea-cannon, which we have mentioned, were also breech-loading. they were mounted on a sort of iron wheel, at the summit of a stout wooden staff, fixed in the deck, or in the rails of the poop and forecastle. they were of small size, and revolved in strong iron pivot rings, so that the man firing them might turn them in any direction he wished. they were of especial service in sweeping the waist, the open spar-deck, between the breaks of poop and forecastle, when boarders were on board. they threw "base and bar-shot to murder near at hand"; but their usual ball was of stone, and for this reason they were called petrieroes, and petrieroes-a-braga. the harquebus-a-croc, a weapon almost exactly similar, threw small cross-bar shot "to cut sails and rigging." in elizabethan times it was carried in the tops of fighting ships, and on the rails and gunwales of merchantmen. in the reign of henry viii., a ship called the _mary rose_, of tons, took part in the battle with the french, in st helens roads, off brading. it was a sultry summer day, almost windless, when the action began, and the _mary rose_ suffered much (being unable to stir) from the gun-fire of the french galleys. at noon, when a breeze sprang up, and the galleys drew off, the _mary rose_ sent her men to dinner. her lower ports, which were cut too low down, were open, and the wind heeled her over, so that the sea rushed in to them. she sank in deep water, in a few moments, carrying with her her captain, and all the gay company on board. in some divers recovered a few of her cannon, of the kinds we have described, some of brass, some of iron. the iron guns had been painted red and black. those of brass, in all probability, had been burnished, like so much gold. these relics may be seen by the curious, at woolwich, in the museum of ordnance, to which they were presented by their salver. in the reign of elizabeth, cannon were much less primitive, for a great advance took place directly men learned the art of casting heavy guns. until , they had forged them; a painful process, necessarily limited to small pieces. after that year they cast them round a core, and by they had evolved certain general types of ordnance which remained in use, in the british navy, almost unchanged, until after the crimean war. the elizabethan breech-loaders, and their methods, have now been described, but a few words may be added with reference to the muzzle-loaders. the charge for these was contained in cartridges, covered with canvas, or "paper royall" (_i.e._ parchment), though the parchment used to foul the gun at each discharge. burning scraps of it remained in the bore, so that, before reloading, the weapon had to be "wormed," or scraped out, with an instrument like an edged corkscrew. a tampion, or wad, of oakum or the like, was rammed down between the cartridge and the ball, and a second wad kept the ball in place. when the gun was loaded the gunner filled the touch-hole with his priming powder, from a horn he carried in his belt, after thrusting a sharp wire, called the priming-iron, down the touch-hole, through the cartridge, so that the priming powder might have direct access to the powder of the charge. he then sprinkled a little train of powder along the gun, from the touch-hole to the base-ring, for if he applied the match directly to the touch-hole the force of the explosion was liable to blow his linstock from his hand. in any case the "huff" or "spit" of fire, from the touch-hole, burned little holes, like pock-marks, in the beams overhead. the match was applied smartly, with a sharp drawing back of the hand, the gunner stepping quickly aside to avoid the recoil. he stepped back, and stood, on the side of the gun opposite to that on which the cartridges were stored, so that there might be no chance of a spark from his match setting fire to the ammunition. spare match, newly soaked in saltpetre water, lay coiled in a little tub beside the gun. the cartridges, contained in latten buckets, were placed in a barrel by the gun and covered over with a skin of leather. the heavy shot were arranged in shot racks, known as "gardens," and these were ready to the gunner's hand, with "cheeses" of tampions or wads. the wads were made of soft wood, oakum, hay, straw, or "other such like." the sponges and rammers were hooked to the beams above the gun ready for use. the rammers were of hard wood, shod with brass, "to save the head from cleaving." the sponges were of soft fast wood, "as aspe, birch, willow, or such like," and had heads covered with "rough sheepes skinne wooll," nailed to the staff with "copper nayles." "ladels," or powder shovels, for the loading of guns, were seldom used at sea. the guns were elevated or depressed by means of handspikes and quoins. quoins were blocks of wood, square, and wedge-shaped, with ring-hooks screwed in them for the greater ease of handling. two of the gun's crew raised the base of the cannon upon their handspikes, using the "steps" of the gun carriage as their fulcra. a third slid a quoin along the "bed" of the carriage, under the gun, to support it at the required height. the recoil of the gun on firing, was often very violent, but it was limited by the stout rope called the breeching, which ran round the base of the gun, from each side of the port-hole, and kept it from running back more than its own length. when it had recoiled it was in the position for sponging and loading, being kept from running out again, with the roll of the ship, by a train, or preventer tackle, hooked to a ring-bolt in amidships. in action, particularly in violent action, the guns became very hot, and "kicked" dangerously. often they recoiled with such force as to overturn, or to snap the breeching, or to leap up to strike the upper beams. brass guns were more skittish than iron, but all guns needed a rest of two or three hours, if possible, after continual firing for more than eight hours at a time. to cool a gun in action, to keep it from bursting, or becoming red-hot, john roberts advises sponging "with spunges wet in ley and water, or water and vinegar, or with the coolest fresh or salt water, bathing and washing her both within and without." this process "if the service is hot, as it was with us at bargen" should be repeated, "every eighth or tenth shot." the powder in use for cannon was called ordnance or corne-powder. it was made in the following proportion. to every five pounds of refined saltpetre, one pound of good willow, or alder, charcoal, and one pound of fine yellow sulphur. the ingredients were braised together in a mortar, moistened with water distilled of orange rinds, or aqua-vitæ, and finally dried and sifted. it was a bright, "tawny blewish colour" when well made. fine powder, for muskets or priming seems to have had a greater proportion of saltpetre. the naval tracts of sir w. monson, contain a list of the sorts of cannon mounted in ships of the time of queen elizabeth. it is not exhaustive, but as robert norton and sir jonas moore give similar lists, the curious may check the one with the other. weight weight weight point length bore of of of blank random in cannon shot powder range feet ins. lb. lb. lb. paces paces cannon royal or double cannon ½ m.l. cannon or whole cannon " cannon serpentine ½ " bastard cannon ½ " demi-cannon ½- ½ " cannon petro or cannon perier ½ " culverin - ½ ½ " basilisk " demi-culverin ½ " bastard culverin ¾ " saker ½ ½ ½ " or minion ½ " falcon ½ " falconet ½ ¼ " ½ serpentine ½ ¾ ¾ " ½ rabinet ½ ½ " ½ to these may be added bases, port pieces, stock fowlers, slings, half slings, and three-quarter slings, breech-loading guns ranging from five and a half to one-inch bore. other firearms in use in our ships at sea were the matchlock musket, firing a heavy double bullet, and the harquabuse[ ] or arquebus, which fired a single bullet. the musket was a heavy weapon, and needed a rest, a forked staff, to support the barrel while the soldier aimed. this staff the musketeer lashed to his wrist, with a cord, so that he might drag it after him from place to place. the musket was fired with a match, which the soldier lit from a cumbrous pocket fire-carrier. the harquabuse was a lighter gun, which was fired without a rest, either by a wheel-lock (in which a cog-wheel, running on pyrites, caused sparks to ignite the powder), or by the match and touch-hole. hand firearms were then common enough, and came to us from italy, shortly after . they were called daggs. they were wheel-locks, wild in firing, short, heavy, and beautifully wrought. sometimes they carried more than one barrel, and in some cases they were made revolving. they were most useful in a hand-to-hand encounter, as with footpads, or boarders; but they were useless at more than ten paces. a variation from them was the hand-cannon or blunderbuss, with a bell-muzzle, which threw rough slugs or nails. in elizabethan ships the musketeers sometimes fired short, heavy, long-headed, pointed iron arrows from their muskets, a missile which flew very straight, and penetrated good steel armour. they had also an infinity of subtle fireworks, granadoes and the like, with which to set their opponents on fire. these they fired from the bombard pieces, or threw from the tops, or cage-works. crossbows and longbows went to sea, with good store of spanish bolts and arrows, until the end of elizabeth's reign, though they were, perhaps, little used after . the gunner had charge of them, and as, in a way, the gunner was a sort of second captain, sometimes taking command of the ship, we cannot do better than to quote from certain old books concerning his duties on board. mr w. bourne, the son of an eminent mathematician, has left a curious little book on "the arte of shooting in great ordnance," first published in london, in , the year before the armada. its author, w. bourne, was at one time a gunner of the bulwark at gravesend. the art of shooting in great guns did not improve very much during the century following; nor did the guns change materially. the breech-loading, quick-firing guns fell out of use as the musket became more handy; but otherwise the province of the gunner changed hardly at all. it is not too much to say that gunners of nelson's time, might have studied some of bourne's book with profit. [footnote : or caliver.] "as for gunners that do serve by the sea, [they] must observe this order following. first that they do foresee that all their great ordnannce be fast breeched, and foresee that all their geare be handsome and in a readinesse. & furthermore that they be very circumspect about their pouder in the time of service, and especially beware of their lint stockes & candels for feare of their pouder, & their fireworks, & their ducum [or priming powder], which is very daungerous, and much to be feared. then furthermore, that you do keep your peeces as neer as you can, dry within, and also that you keep their tutch-holes cleane, without any kind of drosse falling into them." the gunners were also to know the "perfect dispart" of their pieces: that is they were to make a calculation which would enable them in sighting, to bring "the hollow of the peece," not the outer muzzle rim, "right against the marke." in the case of a breech-loader this could not be done by art, with any great exactness, "but any reasonable man (when he doth see the peece and the chamber) may easily know what he must doe, as touching those matters." in fighting at sea, in anything like a storm, with green seas running, so that "the shippes do both heave and set" the gunner was to choose a gun abaft the main-mast, on the lower orlop, "if the shippe may keepe the porte open," as in that part of the vessel the motion would be least apparent. "then if you doe make a shotte at another shippe, you must be sure to have a good helme-man, that can stirre [steer] steady, taking some marke of a cloude that is above by the horizon, or by the shadowe of the sunne, or by your standing still, take some marke of the other shippe through some hole, or any such other like. then he that giveth levell [takes aim] must observe this: first consider what disparte his piece must have, then lay the peece directly with that parte of the shippe that he doth meane to shoote at: then if the shippe bee under the lee side of your shippe, shoote your peece in the comming downe of the gayle, and the beginning of the other ship to rise upon the sea, as near as you can, for this cause, for when the other shippe is aloft upon the sea, and shee under your lee, the gayle maketh her for to head, and then it is likest to do much good." the helmsman also was to have an eye to the enemy, to luff when she luffed, and "putte roomer," or sail large, when he saw her helmsman put the helm up. if the enemy made signs that she was about to lay the ship aboard, either by loosing more sail, or altering her course, the gunner had to remember certain things. "if the one doe meane to lay the other aboorde, then they do call up their company either for to enter or to defend: and first, if that they doe meane for to enter ... then marke where that you doe see anye scottles for to come uppe at, as they will stande neere thereaboutes, to the intente for to be readie, for to come uppe under the scottles: there give levell with your fowlers, or slinges, or bases, for there you shall be sure to do moste good, then further more, if you doe meane for to enter him, then give level with your fowlers and port peeces, where you doe see his chiefest fight of his shippe is, and especially be sure to have them charged, and to shoote them off at the first boording of the shippes, for then you shall be sure to speede. and furthermore, mark where his men have most recourse, then discharge your fowlers and bases. and furthermore for the annoyance of your enemie, if that at the boording that the shippes lye therefore you may take away their steeradge with one of your great peeces, that is to shoote at his rother, and furthermore at his mayne maste and so foorth." the ordering of cannon on board a ship was a matter which demanded a nice care. the gunner had to see that the carriages were so made as to allow the guns to lie in the middle of the port. the carriage wheels, or trocks, were not to be too high, for if they were too high they hindered the mariners, when they ran the cannon out in action (_norton_, _moore_, _bourne_, _monson_). moreover, if the wheels were very large, and the ship were heeled over, the wheel rims would grind the ship's side continually, unless large skids were fitted to them. and if the wheels were large they gave a greater fierceness to the impetus of the recoil, when the piece was fired. the ports were to be rather "deepe uppe and downe" than broad in the traverse, and it was very necessary that the lower port-sill should not be too far from the deck, "for then the carriage muste bee made verye hygh, and that is verye evill" (_bourne_). the short cannon were placed low down, at the ship's side, because short cannon were more easily run in, and secured, when the ports were closed, owing to the ship's heeling, or the rising of the sea. a short gun, projecting its muzzle through the port, was also less likely to catch the outboard tackling of the sails, such as "sheetes and tackes, or the bolynes." and for these reasons any very long guns were placed astern, or far forward, as bow, or stern chasers. it was very necessary that the guns placed at the stern should be long guns, for the tall poops of the galleons overhung the sea considerably. if the gun, fired below the overhang, did not project beyond the woodwork, it was liable to "blowe up the counter of the shyppes sterne," to the great detriment of gilt and paint. some ships cut their stern ports down to the deck, and continued the deck outboard, by a projecting platform. the guns were run out on to this platform, so that the muzzles cleared the overhang. these platforms were the originals of the quarter-galleries, in which, some centuries later, the gold-laced admirals took the air (_bourne_). sir jonas moore, who published a translation of moretti's book on artillery, in , added to his chapters some matter relating to sea-gunners, from the french of denis furnier. "the gunner, whom they call in the _straights captain_, _master-canoneer_, and in _bretagne_ and _spain_, and in other places _connestable_, is one of the principal officers in the ship; it is he alone with the captain who can command the gunners. he ought to be a man of courage, experience, and vigilant, who knows the goodness of a peece of ordnance, the force of powder, and who also knows how to mount a peece of ordnance upon its carriage, and to furnish it with bolts, plates, hooks, capsquares [to fit over the trunnions on which the gun rested] axletrees and trucks, and that may not reverse too much; to order well its cordage as breeching [which stopped the recoil] and tackling [by which it was run out or in]; to plant the cannon to purpose in the middle of its port; to know how to unclow[ ] it [cast it loose for action], make ready his cartridges, and to have them ready to pass from hand to hand through the hatches, and to employ his most careful men in that affair; that he have care of all, that, he be ready everywhere to assist where necessity shall be; and take care that all be made to purpose. [footnote : this word unclow may be a misprint for uncloy. to uncloy was to get rid of the spike, or soft metal nail, thrust into a piece's touch-hole by an enemy. it was done by oiling the spike all over, so as to make it "glib," and then blowing it out, from within, by a train of powder.] "he and his companions [the gunner's mates] ought with their dark lanthornes continually to see if the guns play, and if the rings in ships do not shake." (that is, a strict watch was to be kept, at night, when at sea in stormy weather, to see that the cannon did not work or break loose, and that the ring-bolts remained firm in their places.) "if there be necessity of more cordage, and to see that the beds and coins be firm and in good order; when the ship comes to anker, he furnisheth cordage, and takes care that all his companions take their turn [stand their watch] and quarters, that continually every evening they renew their priming powder [a horn of fine dry powder poured into the touch-holes of loaded cannon, to communicate the fire to the charge], and all are obliged to visit their cannon powder every eight dayes, to see if it hath not receiv'd wet, although they be well stopped a top with cork and tallow; to see that the powder-room be kept neat and clean, and the cartridges ranged in good order, each nature or calibre by itself, and marked above in great letters the weight of the powder and nature of the peece to which it belongs, and to put the same mark over the port-hole of the peece; that the linstocks [_or forked staves of wood, about two and a half feet long, on which the match was carried_] be ready, and furnished with match [_or cotton thread, boiled in ashes-lye and powder, and kept smouldering, with a red end, when in use_], and to have alwaies one lighted, and where the cannoneer makes his quarter to have two one above another below [_this last passage is a little obscure, but we take it to mean that at night, when the gunner slept in his cabin, a lighted match was to be beside him, but that in the gun-decks below and above his cabin (which was in the half-deck) lit matches were to be kept ready for immediate use, by those who kept watch_], that his granadoes [_black clay, or thick glass bottles, filled with priming powder, and fired by a length of tow, well soaked in saltpetre water_] and firepots [_balls of hard tar, sulphur-meal and rosin, kneaded together and fired by a priming of bruised powder_] be in readiness, and or cartridges ready fill'd, extrees [?] and trucks [_wheels_] to turn often over the powder barrels that the powder do not spoil; to have a care of rings [_ring-bolts_] and of the ports [he here means port-lids] that they have their pins and small rings." sir william monson adds that the gunner was to acquaint himself with the capacities of every known sort of firearm, likely to be used at sea. he also gives some professional hints for the guidance of gunners. he tells us (and sir richard hawkins confirms him) that no sea-cannon ought to be more than seven or eight feet long; that they ought not to be taper-bored, nor honey-combed within the bore, and that english ordnance, the best in europe, was sold in his day for twelve pounds a ton. in boteler's time the gunner commanded a gang, or crew, who ate and slept in the gun-room, which seems in those days to have been the magazine. he had to keep a careful account of the expenditure of his munitions, and had orders "not to make any shot without the knowledge and order of the captain." _authorities._--n. boteler: "six dialogues." w. bourne: "the art of shooting in great ordnance"; "regiment for the sea"; "mariner's guide." sir w. monson: "naval tracts." sir jonas moore. r. norton: "the gunner." john roberts: "complete cannoneer." chapter xviii the ship's company captain--master--lieutenant--warrant officers--duties and privileges by comparing sir richard hawkins' "observations" and sir w. monson's "tracts" with nicolas boteler's "dialogical discourses," we find that the duties of ship's officers changed hardly at all from the time of the armada to the death of james i. indeed they changed hardly at all until the coming of the steamship. in modern sailing ships the duties of some of the supernumeraries are almost exactly as they were three centuries ago. the captain was the supreme head of the ship, empowered to displace any inferior officer except the master (_monson_). he was not always competent to navigate (_ibid._), but as a rule he had sufficient science to check the master's calculations. he was expected to choose his own lieutenant (_ibid._), to keep a muster-book, and a careful account of the petty officer's stores (_monson_ and _sir richard hawkins_), and to punish any offences committed by his subordinates. a lieutenant seems to have been unknown in ships of war until the early seventeenth century. he ranked above the master, and acted as the captain's proxy, or ambassador, "upon any occasion of service" (_monson_). in battle he commanded on the forecastle, and in the forward half of the ship. he was restrained from meddling with the master's duties, lest "mischiefs and factions" should ensue. boteler adds that a lieutenant ought not to be "too fierce in his way at first ... but to carry himself with moderation and respect to the master gunner, boatswain, and the other officers." the master was the ship's navigator, responsible for the performance of "the ordinary labours in the ship." he took the height of the sun or stars "with his astrolabe, backstaff or jacob's-staff" (_boteler_). he saw that the watches were kept at work, and had authority to punish misdemeanants (_monson_). before he could hope for employment he had to go before the authorities at trinity house, to show his "sufficiency" in the sea arts (_monson_). the pilot, or coaster, was junior to the master; but when he was bringing the vessel into port, or over sands, or out of danger, the master had no authority to interfere with him (_monson_). he was sometimes a permanent official, acting as junior navigator when the ship was out of soundings (_hawkins_), but more generally he was employed temporarily, as at present, to bring a ship into or out of port (_monson_ and _boteler_). the ship's company was drilled by a sort of junior lieutenant (_boteler_), known as the corporal, who was something between a master-at-arms and a captain of marines. he had charge of the small arms, and had to see to it that the bandoliers for the musketmen were always filled with dry cartridges, and that the muskets and "matches" were kept neat and ready for use in the armoury (_monson_). he drilled the men in the use of their small arms, and also acted as muster master at the setting and relieving of the watch. the gunner, whose duties we have described at length, was privileged to alter the ship's course in action, and may even have taken command during a chase, or running fight. he was assisted by his mates, who commanded the various batteries while in action, and aimed and fired according to his directions. the boatswain, the chief seaman of the crew, was generally an old sailor who had been much at sea, and knew the whole art of seamanship. he had charge of all the sea-stores, and "all the ropes belonging to the rigging [more especially the fore-rigging], all her cables, and anchors; all her sayls, all her flags, colours, and pendants;[ ] and so to stand answerable for them" (_boteler_). he was captain of the long boat, which was stowed on the booms or spare spars between the fore and main masts. he had to keep her guns clean, her oars, mast, sails, stores, and water ready for use, and was at all times to command and steer her when she left the ship (_hawkins_). he carried a silver whistle, or call, about his neck, which he piped in various measures before repeating the master's orders (_monson_). the whistle had a ball at one end, and was made curved, like a letter s laid sideways. the boatswain, when he had summoned all hands to their duty, was expected to see that they worked well. he kept them quiet, and "at peace one with another," probably by knocking together the heads of those disposed to quarrel. lastly, he was the ship's executioner, his mates acting as assistants, and at his hands, under the supervision of the marshal, the crew received their "red-checked shirts," and such bilboed solitude as the captain might direct. [footnote : he had to hang out the ship's colours on going into action (_monson_).] the coxswain was the commander of the captain's row barge which he had to keep clean, freshly painted and gilded, and fitted with the red and white flag--"and when either the captain or any person of fashion is to use the boat, or be carryed too and again from the ship, he is to have the boat trimmed with her cushions and carpet and himself is to be ready to steer her out of her stern [in the narrow space behind the back board of the stern-sheets] and with his whistle to chear up and direct his gang of rowers, and to keep them together when they are to wait: and this is the lowest officer in a ship, that is allowed to carry a whistle" (_boteler_). the coxswain had to stay in his barge when she towed astern at sea, and his office, therefore, was often very wretched, from the cold and wet. he had to see that his boat's crew were at all times clean in their persons, and dressed alike, in as fine a livery as could be managed (_monson_). he was to choose them from the best men in the ship, from the "able and handsome men" (_monson_). he had to instruct them to row together, and to accustom the port oarsmen to pull starboard from time to time. he also kept his command well caulked, and saw the chocks and skids secure when his boat was hoisted to the deck. the quartermasters and their mates had charge of the hold (_monson_), and kept a sort of check upon the steward in his "delivery of the victuals to the cook, and in his pumping and drawing of the beer" (_boteler_). in far later times they seem to have been a rating of elderly and sober seamen who took the helm, two and two together, in addition to their other duties. in the elizabethan ship they superintended the stowage of the ballast, and were in charge below, over the ballast shifters, when the ships were laid on their sides to be scraped and tallowed. they also had to keep a variety of fish hooks ready, in order to catch any fish, such as sharks or bonitos. the purser was expected to be "an able clerk" (_monson_) for he had to keep an account of all provisions received from the victualler. he kept the ship's muster-book, with some account of every man borne upon it. he made out passes, or pay-tickets for discharged men (_ibid._), and, according to _boteler_, he was able "to purse up roundly for himself" by dishonest dealing. the purser (_boteler_ says the cook) received d. a month from every seaman, for "wooden dishes, cans, candles, lanthorns, and candlesticks for the hold" (_monson_). it was also his office to superintend the steward, in the serving out of the provisions and other necessaries to the crew. the steward was the purser's deputy (_monson_). he had to receive "the full mass of victual of all kinds," and see it well stowed in the hold, the heavy things below, the light things up above (_boteler_). he had charge of all the candles, of which those old dark ships used a prodigious number. he kept the ship's biscuits or bread, in the bread-room, a sort of dark cabin below the gun-deck. he lived a life of comparative retirement, for there was a "several part in the hold, which is called the steward's room, where also he sleeps and eats" (_boteler_). he weighed out the provisions for the crew, "to the several messes in the ship," and was cursed, no doubt, by every mariner, for a cheating rogue in league with the purser. though hawkins tells us that it was his duty "with discretion and good tearmes to give satisfaction to all." the cook did his office in a cook-room, or galley, placed in the forecastle or "in the hatchway upon the first orlope" (_boteler_). the floor of the galley was not at that time paved with brick or stone, as in later days, and now. it was therefore very liable to take fire, especially in foul weather, when the red embers were shaken from the ash-box of the range. it was the cook's duty to take the provisions from the steward, both flesh and fish, and to cook them, by boiling, until they were taken from him (_monson_). it was the cook's duty to steep the salt meat in water for some days before using, as the meat was thus rendered tender and fit for human food (_smith_). he had the rich perquisite of the ship's fat, which went into his slush tubs, to bring him money from the candlemakers. the firewood he used was generally green, if not wet, so that when he lit his fire of a morning, he fumigated the fo'c's'le with bitter smoke. it was his duty to pour water on his fire as soon as the guns were cast loose for battle. every day, for the saving of firewood, and for safety, he had to extinguish his fire directly the dinner had been cooked, nor was he allowed to relight it, "but in case of necessity, as ... when the cockswain's gang came wet aboard" (_monson_). he would allow his cronies in the forenoons to dry their wet gear at his fire, and perhaps allow them, in exchange for a bite or sup, to cook any fish they caught, or heat a can of drink. another supernumerary was the joiner, a rating only carried in the seventeenth century on great ships with much fancy work about the poop. he it was who repaired the gilt carvings in the stern-works, and made the bulkheads for the admiral's cabin. he was a decorator and beautifier, not unlike the modern painter, but he was to be ready at all times to knock up lockers for the crew, to make boxes and chests for the gunner, and bulkheads, of thin wood, to replace those broken by the seas. as a rule the work of the joiner was done by the carpenter, a much more important person, who commanded some ten or twelve junior workmen. the carpenter was trusted with the pumps, both hand and chain, and with the repairing of the woodwork throughout the vessel. he had to be super-excellent in his profession, for a wooden ship was certain to tax his powers. she was always out of repair, always leaking, always springing her spars. in the summer months, if she were not being battered by the sea, she was getting her timber split by cannon-shot. in the winter months, when laid up and dismantled in the dockyard, she was certain to need new planks, beams, inner fittings and spars (_hawkins_). the carpenter had to do everything for her, often with grossly insufficient means, and it was of paramount importance that his work-room in the orlop should be fitted with an excellent tool chest. he had to provide the "spare pieces of timber wherewith to make fishes, for to strengthen and succour the masts." he had to superintend the purchase of a number of spare yards, already tapered, and bound with iron, to replace those that "should chance to be broken." he was to see these lashed to the ship's sides, within board, or stopped in the rigging (_monson_ and _boteler_). he had to have all manner of gudgeons for the rudder, every sort of nuts or washers for the pumps, and an infinity of oakum, sheet lead, soft wood, spare canvas, tallow, and the like, with which to stop leaks, or to caulk the seams. in his stores he took large quantities of lime, horse hair, alum, and thin felt with which to wash and sheathe the ship's bottom planking (_monson_). the alum was often dissolved in water, and splashed over spars and sails, before a battle, as it was supposed to render them non-inflammable. it was his duty, moreover, to locate leaks, either by observing the indraught (which was a tedious way), or by placing his ear to a little earthen pot inverted against one of the planks in the hold. this little pot caused him to hear the water as it gurgled in, and by moving it to and fro he could locate the hole with considerable certainty (_boteler_). he had to rig the pumps for the sailors, and to report to the captain the depth of water the ship made daily. the pumps were of two kinds, one exactly like that in use on shore, the other, of the same principle, though more powerful. the second kind was called the chain-pump, because "these pumps have a chain of burs going in a wheel." they were worked with long handles, called brakes (because they broke sailor's hearts), and some ten men might pump at one spell. the water was discharged on to the deck, which was slightly rounded, so that it ran to the ship's side, into a graved channel called the trough, or scuppers, from which it fell overboard through the scupper-holes, bored through the ship's side. these scupper-holes were bored by the carpenter. they slanted obliquely downwards and were closed outside by a hinged flap of leather, which opened to allow water to escape, and closed to prevent water from entering (_maynwaring_). each deck had a number of scupper-holes, but they were all of small size. there was nothing to take the place of the big swinging-ports fitted to modern iron sailing ships, to allow the green seas to run overboard. the cooper was another important supernumerary. he had to oversee the stowing of all the casks, and to make, or repair, or rehoop, such casks as had to be made or repaired. he had to have a special eye to the great water casks, that they did not leak; binding them securely with iron hoops, and stowing them with dunnage, so that they might not shift. he was put in charge of watering parties, to see the casks filled at the springs, to fit them, when full, with their bungs, and to superintend their embarkation and stowage (_monson_ and _boteler_). the trumpeter was an attendant upon the captain, and had to sound his silver trumpet when that great man entered or left the ship (_monson_). "also when you hale a ship, when you charge, board, or enter her; and the poop is his place to stand or sit upon." if the ship carried a "noise," that is a band, "they are to attend him, if there be not, every one he doth teach to bear a part, the captain is to encourage him, by increasing his shares, or pay, and give the master trumpeter a reward." when a prince, or an admiral, came on board, the trumpeter put on a tabard, of brilliant colours, and hung his silver instrument with a heavy cloth of the same. he was to blow a blast from the time the visitor was sighted until his barge came within fathoms of the ship. "at what time the trumpets are to cease, and all such as carry whistles are to whistle his welcome three several times." as the gilt and gorgeous row boat drew alongside, the trumpets sounded a point of welcome, and had then to stand about the cabin door, playing their best, while the great man ate his sweetmeats. as he rowed away again, the trumpeter, standing on the poop, blew out "a loath to depart," a sort of ancient "good-bye, fare you well," such as sailors sing nowadays as they get their anchors for home. in battle the trumpeter stood upon the poop, dressed in his glory, blowing brave blasts to hearten up the gunners. in hailing a friendly ship, in any meeting on the seas, it was customary to "salute with whistles and trumpets, and the ship's company give a general shout on both sides." when the anchor was weighed, the trumpeter sounded a merry music, to cheer the workers. at dinner each night he played in the great cabin, while the captain drank his wine. at the setting and discharging of the watch he had to sound a solemn point, for which duty he received an extra can of beer (_monson_ and _boteler_). the crew, or mariners, were divided into able seamen, ordinary seamen, grummets, or cabin-boys, ship-boys and swabbers. swabbers were the weakest men of the crew; men, who were useless aloft, or at the guns, and therefore set to menial and dirty duties. they were the ship's scavengers, and had much uncleanly business to see to. linschoten, describing a portuguese ship's company, dismisses them with three contemptuous words, "the swabers pump"; but alas, that was but the first duty of your true swabber. boteler, writing in the reign of james i., gives him more than half-a-page, as follows:-- "the office of the swabber is to see the ship kept neat and clean, and that as well in the great cabbin as everywhere else betwixt the decks; to which end he is, at the least once or twice a week, if not every day, to cause the ship to be well washed within board and without above water, and especially about the gunwalls [gunwales or gunnels, over which the guns once pointed] and the chains and for prevention of infection, to burn sometimes pitch, or the like wholsom perfumes, between the decks: he is also to have a regard to every private man's sleeping-place; (to clean the cabins of the petty officers in the nether orlop), and to admonish them all in general [it being dangerous perhaps, in a poor swabber, to admonish in particular] to be cleanly and handsom, and to complain to the captain, of all such as will be any way nastie and offensive that way. surely, if this swabber doth thoroughly take care to discharge this his charge i easily believe that he may have his hands full, and especially if there chance to be any number of landmen aboard." under the swabber there was a temporary rate known as the liar. he had to keep the ship clean "without board," in the head, chains, and elsewhere. he held his place but for a week. "he that is first taken with a lie upon a _monday_ morning, is proclaimed at the main-mast with a general crie, _a liar, a liar, a liar_, and for that week he is under the swabber" (_monson_). the able seamen, or oldest and most experienced hands, did duty about the decks and guns, in the setting up and preservation of the rigging, and in the trimming of the braces, sheets, and bowlines. the ordinary seamen, younkers, grummets, and ship-boys, did the work aloft, furled and loosed the sails, and did the ordinary, never-ceasing work of sailors. they stood "watch and watch" unless the weather made it necessary for all to be on deck, and frequently they passed four hours of each day in pumping the leakage from the well. they wore no uniform, but perhaps some captains gave a certain uniformity to the clothes of their crews by taking slop chests to sea, and selling clothes of similar patterns to the seamen. in the navy, where the crews were pressed, the clothes worn must have been of every known cut and fashion, though no doubt all the pressed men contrived to get tarred canvas coats before they had been many days aboard. the bodies and souls of the seamen were looked after; a chaplain being carried for the one, and a chirurgeon, or doctor, for the other. the chaplain had to read prayers twice or thrice daily, to the whole ship's company, who stood or knelt reverently as he read. he had to lead in the nightly psalms, to reprove all evil-doers, and to exhort the men to their duty. especially was he to repress all blasphemy and swearing. he was to celebrate the holy communion whenever it was most convenient. he was to preach on sunday, to visit the sick; and, in battle, to console the wounded. admirals, and peers in command of ships, had the privilege of bringing to sea their own private chaplains. the chirurgeon had to bring on board his own instruments and medicines, and to keep them ready to hand in his cabin beneath the gun-deck, out of all possible reach of shot. he was expected to know his business, and to know the remedies for those ailments peculiar to the lands for which the ship intended. he had to produce a certificate from "able men of his profession," to show that he was fit to be employed. an assistant, or servant, was allowed him, and neither he, nor his servant did any duty outside the chirurgeon's province (_monson_). chapter xix the choosing of watches the petty tally--food--work--punishments as soon as an ancient ship of war was fitted for the sea, with her guns on board, and mounted, her sails bent, her stores and powder in the hold, her water filled, her ballast trimmed, and the hands aboard, some "steep-tubs" were placed in the chains for the steeping of the salt provisions, "till the salt be out though not the saltness." the anchor was then weighed to a note of music. the "weeping rachells and mournefull niobes" were set packing ashore. the colours were run up and a gun fired. the foresail was loosed. the cable rubbed down as it came aboard (so that it might not be faked into the tiers wet or dirty). the boat was hoisted inboard. the master "took his departure," by observing the bearing of some particular point of land, as the mew stone, the start, the lizard, etc. every man was bidden to "say his private prayer for a bonne voyage." the anchor was catted and fished. sails were set and trimmed. ropes were coiled down clear for running, and the course laid by the master. [illustration: the sovereign of the seas circa ] the captain or master then ordered the boatswain "to call up the company," just as all hands are mustered on modern sailing ships at the beginning of a voyage. the master "being chief of the starboard watch" would then look over the mariners for a likely man. having made his choice he bade the man selected go over to the starboard side, while the commander of the port-watch made his choice. when all the men had been chosen, and the crew "divided into two parts," then each man was bidden to choose "his mate, consort or comrade." the bedding arrangements of these old ships were very primitive. the officers had their bunks or hammocks in their cabins, but the men seem to have slept wherever and however they could. some, no doubt had hammocks, but the greater number lay in their cloaks between the guns, on mattresses if they had them. a man shared his bed and bedding (if he had any) with his "mate, consort, or comrade," so that the one bed and bedding served for the pair. one of the two friends was always on deck while the other slept. in some ships at the present time the forecastles are fitted with bunks for only half the number of seamen carried, so that the practice is not yet dead. the boatswain, with all "the younkers or common sailors" then went forward of the main-mast to take up their quarters between decks. the captain, master's mates, gunners, carpenters, quartermasters, etc., lodged abaft the main-mast "in their severall cabbins." the next thing to be done was the arrangement of the ship's company into messes, "four to a mess," after which the custom was to "give every messe a quarter can of beere and a bisket of bread to stay their stomacks till the kettle be boiled." in the first dog-watch, from to p.m., all hands went to prayers about the main-mast, and from their devotions to supper. at p.m. the company met again to sing a psalm, and say their prayers, before the setting of the night watch; this psalm singing being the prototype of the modern sea-concert, or singsong. at p.m. the first night watch began, lasting until midnight, during which four hours half the ship's company were free to sleep. at midnight the sleepers were called on deck, to relieve the watch. the watches were changed as soon as the muster had been called and a psalm sung, and a prayer offered. they alternated thus throughout the twenty-four hours, each watch having four hours below, after four hours on deck, unless "some flaw of winde come, some storm or gust, or some accident that requires the help of all hands." in these cases the whole ship's company remained on deck until the work was done, or until the master discharged the watch below.[ ] the decks were washed down by the swabbers every morning, before the company went to breakfast. after breakfast the men went about their ordinary duties, cleaning the ship, mending rigging, or working at the thousand odd jobs the sailing of a ship entails. the tops were always manned by lookouts, who received some small reward if they spied a prize. the guns were sometimes exercised, and all hands trained to general quarters. [footnote : see "the sea-man's grammar," by captain john smith.] a few captains made an effort to provide for the comfort of their men by laying in a supply of "bedding, linnen, arms[ ] and apparel." in some cases they also provided what was called the petty tally, or store of medical comforts. "the sea-man's grammar" of captain john smith, from which we have been quoting, tells us that the petty tally contained: [footnote : the men were expected to bring their own swords and knives.] "fine wheat flower close and well-packed, rice, currants, sugar, prunes, cynamon, ginger, pepper, cloves, green ginger, oil, butter, holland cheese or old cheese, wine-vinegar, canarie-sack, aqua-vitæ, the best wines, the best waters, the juyce of limons for the scurvy, white bisket, oatmeal, gammons of bacons, dried neats tongues, beef packed up in vineger, legs of mutton minced and stewed, and close packed up, with tried sewet or butter in earthen pots. to entertain strangers marmalade, suckets, almonds, comfits and such like." "some," says the author of this savoury list, "will say i would have men rather to feast than to fight. but i say the want of those necessaries occasions the loss of more men than in any english fleet hath been slain since . for when a man is ill, or at the point of death, i would know whether a dish of buttered rice with a little cynamon, ginger and sugar, a little minced meat, or rost beef, a few stew'd prunes, a race of green ginger, a flap-jack, a kan of fresh water brewed with a little cynamon and sugar be not better than a little poor john, or salt fish, with oil and mustard, or bisket, butter, cheese, or oatmeal-pottage on fish-dayes, or on flesh-dayes, salt, beef, pork and pease, with six shillings beer, this is your ordinary ship's allowance, and good for them are well if well conditioned [not such bad diet for a healthy man if of good quality] which is not alwayes as sea-men can [too well] witnesse. and after a storme, when poor men are all wet, and some have not so much as a cloth to shift them, shaking with cold, few of those but will tell you a little sack or aqua-vitæ is much better to keep them in health, than a little small beer, or cold water although it be sweet. now that every one should provide for himself, few of them have either that providence or means, and there is neither ale-house, tavern, nor inne to burn a faggot in, neither grocer, poulterer, apothecary nor butcher's shop, and therefore the use of this petty tally is necessary, and thus to be employed as there is occasion." the entertainment of strangers, with "almonds, comfits and such like," was the duty of a sea-captain, for "every commander should shew himself as like himself as he can," and, "therefore i leave it to their own discretion," to supply suckets for the casual guest. in those days, when sugar was a costly commodity, a sucket was more esteemed than now. at sea, when the food was mostly salt, it must certainly have been a great dainty. the "allowance" or ration to the men was as follows[ ]:-- [footnote : see sir w. monson's "naval tracts."] each man and boy received one pound of bread or biscuit daily, with a gallon of beer. the beer was served out four times daily, a quart at a time, in the morning, at dinner, in the afternoon, and at supper. on sundays, mondays, tuesdays and thursdays, which were flesh days, the allowance of meat was either one pound of salt beef, or one pound of salt pork with pease. on wednesdays and saturdays, a side of salt-fish, ling, haberdine, or cod, was divided between the members of each mess, while a seven-ounce ration of butter (or olive oil) and a fourteen-ounce ration of cheese, was served to each man. on fridays, or fast days, this allowance was halved. at one time the sailors were fond of selling or playing away their rations, but this practice was stopped in the reign of elizabeth, and the men forced to take their food "orderly and in due season" under penalties. prisoners taken during the cruise were allowed two-thirds of the above allowance. the allowance quoted above appears liberal, but it must be remembered that the sailors were messed "six upon four," and received only two-thirds of the full ration. the quality of the food was very bad. the beer was the very cheapest of small beer, and never kept good at sea, owing to the continual motion of the ship. it became acid, and induced dysentery in those who drank it, though it was sometimes possible to rebrew it after it had once gone sour. the water, which was carried in casks, was also far from wholesome. after storing, for a day or two, it generally became offensive, so that none could drink it. in a little while this offensiveness passed off, and it might then be used, though the casks bred growths of an unpleasant sliminess, if the water remained in them for more than a month. however water was not regarded as a drink for human beings until the beer was spent. the salt meat was as bad as the beer, or worse. often enough the casks were filled with lumps of bone and fat which were quite uneatable, and often the meat was so lean, old, dry and shrivelled that it was valueless as food. the victuallers often killed their animals in the heat of the summer, when the meat would not take salt, so that many casks must have been unfit for food after lying for a week in store. anti-scorbutics were supplied, or not supplied, at the discretion of the captains. it appears that the sailors disliked innovations in their food, and rejected the substitution of beans, flour "and those white meats as they are called" for the heavy, and innutritious pork and beef. sailors were always great sticklers for their "pound and pint," and boteler tells us that in the early seventeenth century "the common sea-men with us, are so besotted on their beef and pork, as they had rather adventure on all the calentures, and scarbots [scurvy] in the world, than to be weaned from their customary diet, or so much as to lose the least bit of it." the salt-fish ration was probably rather better than the meat, but the cheese was nearly always very bad, and of an abominable odour. the butter was no better than the cheese. it was probably like so much train-oil. the bread or biscuit which was stowed in bags in the bread-room in the hold, soon lost its hardness at sea, becoming soft and wormy, so that the sailors had to eat it in the dark. the biscuits, or cakes of bread, seem to have been current coin with many of the west indian natives. in those ships where flour was carried, in lieu of biscuit, as sometimes happened in cases of emergency, the men received a ration of doughboy, a sort of dumpling of wetted flour boiled with pork fat. this was esteemed a rare delicacy either eaten plain or with butter. this diet was too lacking in variety, and too destitute of anti-scorbutics to support the mariners in health. the ships in themselves were insanitary, and the crews suffered very much from what they called calentures, (or fevers such as typhus and typhoid), and the scurvy. the scurvy was perhaps the more common ailment, as indeed it is to-day. it is now little dreaded, for its nature is understood, and guarded against. in the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, it killed its thousands, owing to the ignorance and indifference of responsible parties, and to other causes such as the construction of the ships and the length of the voyages. a salt diet, without fresh vegetables, and without variety, is a predisposing cause of scurvy. exposure to cold and wet, and living in dirty surroundings are also predisposing causes. the old wooden ships were seldom very clean, and never dry, and when once the scurvy took hold it generally raged until the ship reached port, where fresh provisions could be purchased. a wooden ship was never quite dry, in any weather, for the upper-deck planks, and the timbers of her topsides, could never be so strictly caulked that no water could leak in. the sea-water splashed in through the scuppers and through the ports, or leaked in, a little at a time, through the seams. in bad weather the lower gun-decks (or all decks below the spar-deck) were more or less awash, from seas that had washed down the hatchways. the upper-deck seams let in the rain, and when once the lower-decks were wet it was very difficult to dry them. it was impossible to close the gun-deck ports so as to make them watertight, for the water would find cracks to come in at, even though the edges of the lids were caulked with oakum, and the orifices further barred by deadlights or wooden shutters. many of the sailors, as we have seen, were without a change of clothes, and with no proper sleeping-place, save the wet deck and the wet jackets that they worked in. it often happened that the gun-ports would be closed for several weeks together, during which time the gun-decks became filthy and musty, while the sailors contracted all manner of cramps and catarrhs. in addition to the wet, and the discomfort of such a life, there was also the work, often extremely laborious, incidental to heavy weather at sea. what with the ceaseless handling of sails and ropes, in frost and snow and soaking sea-water; and the continual pumping out of the leaks the rotten seams admitted, the sailor had little leisure in which to sleep, or to dry himself. when he left the deck he had only the dark, wet berth-deck to retire to, a place of bleakness and misery, where he might share a sopping blanket, if he had one, with the corpse of a drowned rat and the flotsam from the different messes. there was no getting dry nor warm, though the berth-deck might be extremely close and stuffy from lack of ventilation. the cook-room, or galley fire would not be lighted, and there would be no comforting food or drink, nothing but raw meat and biscuit, and a sup of sour beer. it was not more unpleasant perhaps than life at sea is to-day, but it was certainly more dangerous.[ ] when at last the storm abated and the sea went down, the ports were opened and the decks cleaned. the sailors held a general washing-day, scrubbing the mouldy clothes that had been soaked so long, and hanging them to dry about the rigging. wind-sails or canvas ventilators were rigged, to admit air to the lowest recesses of the hold. the decks were scrubbed down with a mixture of vinegar and sand, and then sluiced with salt water, scraped with metal scrapers, and dried with swabs and small portable firepots. vinegar was carried about the decks in large iron pots, and converted into vapour by the insertion of red-hot metal bars. the swabbers brought pans of burning pitch or brimstone into every corner, so that the smoke might penetrate everywhere. but even then the decks were not wholesome. there were spaces under the guns which no art could dry, and subtle leaks in the topsides that none could stop. the hold accumulated filth, for in many ships the ship's refuse was swept on to the ballast, where it bred pestilence, typhus fever and the like. the bilge-water reeked and rotted in the bilges, filling the whole ship with its indescribable stench. beetles, rats and cockroaches bred and multiplied in the crannies, until (as in captain cook's case two centuries later), they made life miserable for all on board. these wooden ships were very gloomy abodes, and would have been so no doubt even had they been dry and warm. they were dark, and the lower-deck, where most of the men messed, was worse lit than the decks above it, for being near to the water-line the ports could seldom be opened. only in very fair weather could the sailors have light and sun below decks. as a rule they ate and slept in a murky, stuffy atmosphere, badly lighted by candles in heavy horn lanthorns. the gloom of the ships must have weighed heavily upon many of the men, and the depression no doubt predisposed them to scurvy, making them less attentive to bodily cleanliness, and less ready to combat the disease when it attacked them. perhaps some early sea-captains tried to make the between decks less gloomy by whitewashing the beams, bulkheads and ship's sides. in the eighteenth century this seems to have been practised with success, though perhaps the captains who tried it were more careful of their hands in other ways, and the benefit may have been derived from other causes. [footnote : the mortality among the sailors was very great.] discipline was maintained by some harsh punishments, designed to "tame the most rude and savage people in the world." punishment was inflicted at the discretion of the captain, directly after the hearing of the case, but the case was generally tried the day after the commission of the offence, so that no man should be condemned in hot blood. the most common punishment was that of flogging, the men being stripped to the waist, tied to the main-mast or to a capstan bar, and flogged upon the bare back with a whip or a "cherriliccum." the boatswain had power to beat the laggards and the ship's boys with a cane, or with a piece of knotted rope. a common punishment was to put the offender on half his allowance, or to stop his meat, or his allowance of wine or spirits. for more heinous offences there was the very barbarous punishment of keel-hauling, by which the victim was dragged from the main yardarm right under the keel of the ship, across the barnacles, to the yardarm on the farther side. those who suffered this punishment were liable to be cut very shrewdly by the points of the encrusted shells. ducking from the main yardarm was inflicted for stubbornness, laziness, going on shore without leave, or sleeping while on watch. the malefactor was brought to the gangway, and a rope fastened under his arms and about his middle. he was then hoisted rapidly up to the main yardarm, "from whence he is violently let fall into the sea, some times twice, some times three severall times, one after another" (_boteler_). this punishment, and keel-hauling, were made more terrible by the discharge of a great gun over the malefactor's head as he struck the water, "which proveth much offensive to him" (_ibid._). if a man killed another he was fastened to the corpse and flung overboard (_laws of oleron_). for drawing a weapon in a quarrel, or in mutiny, the offender lost his right hand (_ibid._). theft was generally punished with flogging, but in serious cases the thief was forced to run the gauntlet, between two rows of sailors all armed with thin knotted cords. ducking from the bowsprit end, towing in a rope astern, and marooning, were also practised as punishments for the pilferer. for sleeping on watch there was a graduated scale. first offenders were soused with a bucket of water. for the second offence they were tied up by the wrists, and water was poured down their sleeves. for the third offence they were tied to the mast, with bags of bullets, or gun-chambers tied about their arms and necks, until they were exhausted, or "till their back be ready to break" (_monson_). if they still offended in this kind they were taken and tied to the bowsprit end, with rations of beer and bread, and left there with leave to starve or fall into the sea. destruction or theft of ships' property was punished by death. petty insurrections, such as complaints of the quality or quantity of the food, etc., were punished by the bilboes. the bilboes were iron bars fixed to the deck a little abaft the main-mast. the prisoner sat upon the deck under a sentry, and his legs and hands were shackled to the bars with irons of a weight proportioned to the crime. it was a rule that none should speak to a man in the bilboes. for blasphemy and swearing there was "an excellent good way"[ ] of forcing the sinner to hold a marline-spike in his mouth, until his tongue was bloody (_teonge_). dirty speech was punished in a similar way, and sometimes the offending tongue was scrubbed with sand and canvas. we read of two sailors who stole a piece of beef aboard h.m.s. _assistance_ in the year .[ ] their hands were tied behind them, and the beef was hung about their necks, "and the rest of the seamen cam one by one, and rubd them over the mouth with the raw beife; and in this posture they stood two howers." other punishments were "shooting to death," and hanging at the yardarm. "and the knaveries of the ship-boys are payd by the boat-swain with the rod; and commonly this execution is done upon the munday mornings; and is so frequently in use, that some meer seamen believe in earnest, that they shall not have a fair wind, unless the poor boys be duely brought to the chest, that is, whipped, every munday morning" (_boteler_). [footnote : _circa_ .] [footnote : the punishment would have been no less severe a century earlier.] some of these punishments may appear unduly harsh; but on the whole they were no more cruel than the punishments usually inflicted ashore. indeed, if anything they were rather more merciful. chapter xx in action in engaging an enemy's ship at sea the custom was to display the colours from the poop, and to hang streamers or pennons from the yardarms.[ ] the spritsail would then be furled, and the spritsail-yard brought alongship. the lower yards were slung with chain, and the important ropes, sheets and braces,[ ] etc., were doubled. the bulkheads and wooden cabin walls were knocked away, or fortified with hammocks or bedding, to minimise the risk of splinters. the guns were cast loose and loaded. the powder or cartridge was brought up in "budge barrels," covered with leather, from the magazine, and stowed well away from the guns, either in amidships, or on that side of the ship not directly engaged. tubs of water were placed between the guns with blankets soaking in them for the smothering of any fire that might be caused. other tubs were filled with "vinegar water or what we have" for the sponging of the guns. the hatches leading to the hold were taken up, so that no man should desert his post during the engagement. the light sails were furled, and in some cases sent down on deck. the magazines were opened, and hung about with wet blankets to prevent sparks from entering. shot was sent to the shot-lockers on deck. sand was sprinkled on the planking to give a greater firmness to the foothold of the men at the guns. the gunner and his mates went round the batteries to make sure that all was ready. the caps, or leaden plates, were taken from the touch-holes, and the priming powder was poured down upon the cartridge within the gun. the carpenter made ready sheets of lead, and plugs of oakum, for the stopping of shot-holes.[ ] the cook-room fire was extinguished. the sails were splashed with a solution of alum. the people went to eat and drink at their quarters. extra tiller ropes, of raw hide, were rove abaft. the trumpeters put on their[ ] tabards, "of the admiral's colours," and blew points of war as they sailed into action. a writer of the early seventeenth century[ ] has left the following spirited account of a sea-fight:-- [footnote : monson.] [footnote : _ibid._] [footnote : monson.] [footnote : _ibid._] [footnote : captain john smith.] "a sail, how bears she or stands shee, to winde-ward or lee-ward? set him by the compasse; he stands right ahead, or on the weather-bowe, or lee-bowe, let fly your colours if you have a consort, else not. out with all your sails, a steady man to the helme, sit close to keep her steady, give him chase or fetch him up; he holds his own, no, we gather on him. captain, out goes his flag and pendants, also his waste-clothes and top-armings, which is a long red cloth about three quarters of a yard broad, edged on each side with calico, or white linnen cloth, that goeth round about the ship on the outsides of all her upper works fore and aft, and before the cubbridge-heads, also about the fore and maine tops, as well for the countenance and grace of the ship, as to cover the men for being seen, he furies and slinges his maine yarde, in goes his spret-saile. thus they use to strip themselves into their short sailes, or fighting sailes, which is only the fore sail, the main and fore topsails, because the rest should not be fired nor spoiled; besides they would be troublesome to handle, hinder our fights and the using our armes; he makes ready his close fights fore and aft. "master, how stands the chase? right on head i say; well we shall reatch him by and by; what's all ready? yea, yea, every man to his charge, dowse your topsaile to salute him for the sea, hale him with a noise of trumpets; whence is your ship? of spaine; whence is yours? of england. are you a merchant, or a man of war? we are of the sea. he waves us to lee-ward with his drawne sword, cals amaine for the king of spaine and springs his loufe. give him a chase piece with your broadside, and run a good berth ahead of him; done, done. we have the winde of him, and he tackes about, tacke you aboute also and keep your loufe [keep close to the wind] be yare at the helme, edge in with him, give him a volley of small shot, also your prow and broadside as before, and keep your loufe; he payes us shot for shot; well, we shall requite him; what, are you ready again? yea, yea. try him once more, as before; done, done; keep your loufe and charge your ordnance again; is all ready? yea, yea, edge in with him again, begin with your bowe pieces, proceed with your broadside, and let her fall off with the winde, to give her also your full chase, your weather broadside, and bring her round that the stern may also discharge, and your tackes close aboord again; done, done, the wind veeres, the sea goes too high to boord her, and we are shot thorow and thorow, and betwene winde and water. try the pump, bear up the helme; master let us breathe and refresh a little, and sling a man overboard [_i.e._ lower a man over the side] to stop the leakes; that is, to trusse him up aboute the middle in a piece of canvas, and a rope to keep him from sinking, and his armes at liberty, with a malet in the one hand, and a plug lapped in okum, and well tarred in a tarpawling clowt in the other, which he will quickly beat into the hole or holes the bullets made; what cheere mates? is all well? all well, all well, all well. then make ready to bear up with him again, and with all your great and small shot charge him, and in the smoke boord him thwart the hawse, on the bowe, midships, or rather than faile, on the quarter [where the high poop made it difficult to climb on board] or make fast your graplings [iron hooks] if you can to his close fights and shear off [so as to tear them to pieces]. captain, we are fowl on each other, and the ship is on fire, cut anything to get clear and smother the fire with wet clothes. in such a case they will presently be such friends, as to helpe one the other all they can to get clear, lest they should both burn together and sink; and if they be generous, the fire quenched, drink kindely one to another; heave their cans overboord, and then begin again as before. "well, master, the day is spent, the night drawes on, let us consult. chirurgion, look to the wounded, and winde up the slain, with each a weight or bullet at their heades and feet to make them sinke, and give them three gunnes for their funerals. swabber, make clean the ship [sprinkle it with hot vinegar to avoid the smell of blood]; purser, record their names; watch, be vigilant to keep your berth to windeward that we lose him not in the night; gunners, spunge your ordnance; sowldiers, scowre your pieces; carpenters about your leakes; boatswaine and the rest repair your sails and shrouds; and cooke, you observe your directions against the morning watch; boy, holla, master, holla, is the kettle boiled? yea, yea; boatswaine, call up the men to prayer and breakfast [we may suppose the dawn has broken]. "boy, fetch my cellar of bottels [case of spirits], a health to you all fore and aft, courage my hearts for a fresh charge; gunners beat open the ports, and out with your lower tire [lower tier of guns] and bring me from the weather side to the lee, so many pieces as we have ports to bear upon him. master lay him aboord loufe for loufe; mid ships men, see the tops and yards well manned, with stones, fire pots and brass bailes, to throw amongst them before we enter, or if we be put off, charge them with all your great and small shot, in the smoke let us enter them in the shrouds, and every squadron at his best advantage; so sound drums and trumpets, and saint george for england. "they hang out a flag of truce, hale him a main, abase, or take in his flag [to hale one to amaine, a main or a-mayn, was to bid him surrender; to abase was to lower the colours or the topsails], strike their sails, and come aboord with their captaine, purser, and gunner, with their commission, cocket, or bills of loading. out goes the boat, they are launched from the ship's side, entertaine them with a generall cry god save the captain and all the company with the trumpets sounding, examine them in particular, and then conclude your conditions, with feasting, freedom or punishment as you find occasion; but alwayes have as much care to their wounded as your own, and if there be either young women or aged men, use them nobly, which is ever the nature of a generous disposition. to conclude, if you surprise him, or enter perforce, you may stow the men, rifle, pillage, or sack, and cry a prise." down below in the gun-decks during an action, the batteries became so full of the smoke of black powder that the men could hardly see what they were doing. the darkness prevented them from seeing the very dangerous recoiling of the guns, and many were killed by them. it was impossible to judge how a gun carriage would recoil, for it never recoiled twice in the same manner, and though the men at the side tackles did their best to reduce the shock they could not prevent it altogether. it was the custom to close the gun-ports after each discharge, as the musketeers aboard the enemy could otherwise fire through them as the men reloaded. the guns were not fired in a volley, as no ship could have stood the tremendous shock occasioned by the simultaneous discharge of all her guns. they were fired in succession, beginning from the bows. in heavy weather the lower tiers of guns were not cast loose, for the rolling made them difficult to control, and the sea came washing through the ports and into the muzzles of the guns, knocking down the men and drenching the powder. it sometimes happened that the shot, and cartridge, were rolled clean out of the guns. in sponging and ramming the men were bidden to keep the sponge or rammer on that side of them opposite to the side exposed to the enemy so that if a shot should strike it, it would not force it into the body of the holder. a man was told off to bring cartridges and shot to each gun or division of guns and he was strictly forbidden to supply any other gun or guns during the action. the wounded were to be helped below by men told off especially for the purpose. once below, in the cockpit, they were laid on a sail, and the doctor or his mates attended to them in turn. in no case was a man attended out of his turn. this system seems equitable, and the sailors were insistent that it should be observed; but many poor fellows bled to death, from shattered arteries, etc., while waiting till the doctor should be ready. the chaplain attended in the cockpit to comfort the dying, and administer the rites of the church. when a vessel was taken, her crew were stripped by those in want of clothes. the prisoners were handcuffed, or chained together, and placed in the hold, on the ballast. the ship's company then set to work to repair damages, clean and secure the guns, return powder, etc., to the armoury, and magazines, and to give thanks for their preservation round the main-mast. [illustration: map shewing the early buccaneer cruising ground] index action, description of ship in, allowance of food and drink, , alvarado, , etc. ---- battle of, _et seq._ anastasius (church), andreas, captain, , , antonio, captain, arica, , , , ---- battle of, _et seq._, , arquebus, barbecue, barker, andrew, baronha, admiral, bastimentos, _bear_, pinnace, , , bishop (of panama), , , blewfields, boats (ships'), boatswains, boco del toro, , boucan, bracos, de los, bradley, john, _et seq._ buccaneers, rise of, _et seq._; customs, etc., ; dress, ; drunkenness, ; cruel, ; religious, ; attached to comrades, ; preparations for raids, _et seq._; shares of spoil, ; at the samballoes, ; at perico, buckenham, captain, cabeças, or cabezas, , , , , cabin-boys, campeachy, canoas, ; capturing prizes from, _et seq._ captains, , , , caribs, carpenters, cartagena, , , , , , , _et seq._, , , cartridges, , castle gloria, cativaas, or catives, , , , cedro bueno, halt at, ---- canoas sent to, chaplains, , chagres castle, expedition to, under bradley, _et seq._ ---- morgan's arrival at, ---- party sent to, ---- message from, chagres river, , , , , , , ; also - charesha, chatas (small spanish boats), cheapo river, , , chapillo, , chirurgeons, colonies in west indies, , commissions, cook, captain, , , , , cooks (ships'), coopers, compensations, comrades, corporals, costa rica, morgan sails for, cox, captain, , , coxon, captain, , , , , , , , ---- sails for home, coxswains, crews, daggs (pistols), dampier, william, ; early life in west indies, _et seq._; ill at campeachy, ; ruined by storm, ; goes pirating, _ibid._; returns to england, ; to jamaica, ; joins buccaneers, ; lands on isthmus, ; not at perico, ; not at arica, ; leaves sharp, , ; tramps across isthmus, , , , , , , darien, gulf of, , , , , darien isthmus. _see_ drake, morgan, dampier, etc. delander, r., de la barra castle, diego, , , , , , , ---- fort, , , ---- river, , , discomforts, discipline, , , drake, francis (afterwards sir francis), born, ; at san juan d'ulloa, , ; at west indies, , ; sails for nombre de dios, , , ; lands, ; joins rause, , ; sails west, , ; attacks nombre de dios, , , , ; hurt, ; receives herald, ; goes to cartagena, ; establishes fort, ; goes east, , ; in cartagena, , , etc.; returns thither, ; starving, , ; holds post mortem, ; goes for panama, _et seq._; fails to take treasure, ; retreats, ; at venta cruz, ; returns to hixom, ; goes to veragua, , ; meets captain tetû, ; makes his great raid, , , , ; builds raft, - ; his bravado, ; arrives at plymouth, ; mentioned, ; sacks st domingo, ; his island, , ---- john, , , , , ---- joseph, entertainments, estera longa lemos (near porto bello), firing (of cannon), ; and aiming, , fort jeronimo (at porto bello), francisco river (st francis river), , , , , french in west indies, , ---- buccaneer commissions, fumigations, gabriele, josef, galleons, , galliasses, , galleys, gambling, garret, john, gayny, g., , , , gear (sailors'), gibraltar (in maracaibo), glub, charles, golden island, gorgona, , grummets, guasco (huasco), gunners, , , , , , , , guns, _et seq._, ; list of, guzman, don john perez, takes santa katalina, . _see also_ panama battle harris, captain, , ; killed and buried, hawkins, sir r., , ; his story of oxenham, hayti, hilo (ylo or ilo), , , hispaniola, , _et seq._, hixom, ellis, , , , , , hobby, mr, hunters, , indians, , , iquique (yqueque), iron castle (at porto bello), , , jamaica, , , jobson (or cobson), , joiners, juan fernandez, , katalina, santa, mansvelt goes to, ---- morgan takes, king golden cap, , , , , , , la serena, las serenas, la sounds key, , , liars, lieutenants, linstocks, _lion_, pinnace, , logwood cutting, ; description of, longships, lorenzo, san, castle of, ; taken, ; morgan's return to, ; destroyed, magdalena, , main, the, , , , , , mansvelt, dutch pirate, cruises in south seas, ; his plans, ; meets henry morgan, ; sails with him, _ibid._; takes santa katalina, ; seeks recruits and recognition from english governor, ; is refused help, ; sails to tortuga, ; dies, maracaibo, maroons, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , marygalante, masts, masters, , _minion_, pinnace, , moone, t., , morgan, henry (afterwards sir henry), meets mansvelt, ; sails with him, _ibid._; tries to get help from new england, ; gathers fleet, ; goes for puerto del principe, ; battle there, ; town taken, ; stay there, ; mutiny and fight, ; defection of french allies, ; returns to port royal, ; sails for costa rica, ; lands, ; takes a fort, ; attacks porto bello, ; takes it, ; receives summons from panama, ; defeats spanish troops, ; receives ransom, ; returns to port royal, ; goes for maracaibo, ; summons de la barra castle, ; the fireship, ; spanish rally, ; morgan's stratagem, ; his return to port royal, ; goes for main, , ; takes santa katalina, ; sails for chagres, ; reaches venta cruz, ; sees panama, ; takes it, , etc.; burns his ships, ; leaves ruins, ; returns to venta cruz, ; destroys san lorenzo, ; returns to port royal, ; becomes governor of jamaica, mosquito indians, , , , mule trains (or recuas), , , , munjack, muskets, mutiny, nombre de dios, , , , , , , , , ; description of, , , , etc.; attack on, , , , , , , , , , , , norman, captain, , one bush key, , , ortega, john de, , oxenham, john, , , , , , , , , , , , ; sails on his raid, ; builds ship, ; raids south seas, ; mutiny, , ; spaniards take him, ; and hang him, , panama, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ---- description of, . ---- morgan's sight of, ---- governor of. _see_ guzman, , . parrots, at alvarado, _pascha_, a ship, , , , , , , , pavesses, pearl islands, , , pedro, , , penn, peralta, don, , , , , , , , , periaguas, perico, , , , , , - petticoat (a sky-blue), petty tally, , pezoro, , , pike, robert, , , pine islands, , , pinnaces, , plenty, port, plymouth, , , , porto bello, , , ; description, _et seq._; attacked and sacked, _et seq._; , port pheasant, port royal, ---- morgan's return to, ---- dampier arrives at, porto santo, provisions, , , puebla nueva, puerto del principe, , _et seq._ pursers, quartermasters, quibo, , , , raft (drake's), , rause, captain, , , rigging, ancient, ringrose, basil, , , , , , , , , ---- at arica, , , , , , rio de la hacha, , rio grande, , , roundships, sails, , , , sailing from port, , san andreas, ---- antonio, ---- barnardo, , , , , ---- domingo, , ---- juan d'ulloa, , , ---- miguel, santa maria, , , , , ---- martha, , ---- pecaque, savannahs, sawkins, richard, captain, , , , , , , , , , , , ; killed, , , , scrivanos, , , sea-fighting, , , , searles, captain, sharp, captain bartholomew, , , , , , , , , , , , ; takes prizes, ; elected admiral, , , , ; at arica, , , , , , , , ship-boys, simon le sieur, , , smith, captain john, springer, captain, ---- his key, stewards, swabbers, , _swan_, a ship, , , , tawnymores (a ship of), , , , tetû, captain, , , , ; hurt, , , tiburon, cape, tocamora, tolu, , , , top-arming, torna munni, tortuga, , , , tree (a great), , _trinity_, the most blessed, a spanish galleon, , , , , , , , , , tristian, captain, trumpeters, tucker, francis, venables, venta cruz, , , , , , , , , , , , , veragua, , , , villa del rey, wafer, lionel, , , , , , , , watling, john, , , , ; attacks arica, , , ; shot, ylo, , , yqueque, , younkers, ysabel nueva, the game and the candle by eleanor m. ingram with illustrations by p. d. johnson indianapolis the bobbs-merrill company publishers copyright the bobbs-merrill company october press of braunworth & co. bookbinders and printers brooklyn, n. y. to that gracious family circle of which i have the happiness to be one [illustration: he carried her back to the cream-tinted boudoir.] contents i the decision ii the key to the door iii his royal highness iv the bond v the new day vi "the king is dead--long live the king" vii allegiance viii to meet the emperor ix guinevere of the south x a stanief's own xi in the regent's study xii the turn in the road xiii the intervention of adrian xiv the ordeal xv at the gates of change xvi fire lilies xvii an arabian night xviii the last week xix adrian's day xx closed the game and the candle chapter i the decision "it will last about six months," stated john allard. "afterward--" his brother looked up at him helplessly. "afterward?" he echoed drearily. "afterward there must be more. it is not possible, simply is _not_, for poverty to approach theodora and aunt rose. look around you, robert." under the clear california moonlight the jade-green lawns and terraces dropped one below the other to the distant road. through them writhed the long serpentine drive and paths; dotted over them stood dark masses of flowering bushes or trees, with here and there the snowy gleam of a statue; over all floated the rhythmic tinkle of the central fountain. untroubled calm was the spirit of the place, hereditary comfort. "i have looked so often, john. yet, i find nothing." "we must find not a little money, but a fortune, and we must find it in six months," john answered, his low voice just reaching his listener. "there is no way to earn it, we know. inside the law there are ways to acquire it. wall street, for instance; a new popular song or two, an inexplicable conjuring trick, or a fresh breakfast food. but we have no such talents, you and i; we are just the ordinary gentlemen of leisure,--dilettanti. we are useless, within the limits set for us. outside the limits, outside the law--" the suggestion was left unfinished, the two men falling silent before it. they were young; so young that the morning mists of romance still blurred the sharp landscape of reality, and for the moment, daring appealed more than endurance. "we could not do anything low," robert demurred hesitatingly. "not about the mortgages or business tangles, john." "no, no," john agreed, flushing. "of course not that. i suppose there is an honor even in crime, a class distinction. sir henry morgan probably despised a common thief, and paul clifford would not pick his neighbor's pocket at dinner. no; we will pay our inherited debts, if we have to steal for it. what a _comédie-héroïque_!" robert regarded him seriously. "you are just playing?" he doubted. "i am not playing at all; only looking at things. for the time left us is not long. if we do nothing, this place will go, and with it all that theodora and aunt rose call life. we must then take these women, aunt rose an invalid, theo a spoiled and petted patrician, to some cheap city lodging, and there strive to support them. how, i haven't any idea. some one might employ us as clerks, possibly. i have traveled all over europe and speak french and italian; that is all my stock in trade, except an education." "mine is less." "we have wasted our time thoroughly, if innocently. now we pay. do you wonder that i look at the outlaw's path that offers itself?" his brother moved, startled. "offers itself, john?" "yes; i did not think of this without the prompting of circumstance. are you dismayed, or shocked?" "i can not see very clearly," robert answered simply. "or, rather, i keep seeing the wrong things. nothing dismays me to-night except the idea of pain coming to theo and her mother. i do not say it should be so; merely that it is. we are more ornamental than useful, we allards, as you point out, but we have the art of loving. i think most people have a less capacity for it; i believe it is a certain intensity born with one--a gift, a talent. and we have it. tell me more." "i shall not tell you very much, because the work is only for one of us," john said. "one of us must go, the other stay here and live as always. one must still be master of sun-kist, still the head of this household of ours and an irreproachable citizen. he had better not know too accurately what the one who goes is doing." "john!" john allard slipped impulsively from the veranda rail and came to sit on the arm of robert's chair, drawing him into a caressing embrace. "i know; we've always played together, dear old fellow. school and college, and the short time since,--the two years' difference between us got lost pretty early. but we must learn to go alone at last. and if we undertake this insanity--for it is little better--we must stand without flinching all it brings. is it worth while? i do not know, but i know many a man has gone into the underworld to protect a woman. how many cashiers have misused funds entrusted to them, how many business men have stooped to illegal methods, in order to give their wives--not necessities, but luxuries? we see it every day, this cowardice for some one loved. only they do it by degrees, and we do it all at once." robert laid his hand over the one on his shoulder. "it does not sound very pretty," he acknowledged wistfully. "it is the old legend of selling your ego to mephistopheles. only, i wouldn't so much mind going to hades afterward; it is the clasping mephisto's smudgy fingers that hurts." "i am not asking you to do it, bertie. we will just forget this half-hour, if you like. you know it was a suggestion, not a conviction, i voiced. you are right, of course. but i was ready for rebellion against all laws to-day; and then desmond came to me--" "desmond! he is out of prison?" "a week ago. he came to me for money to go east. 'do you mind how you and master robert used to sneak away from your nurse to play with tommy, the coachman's boy?' he said to me. 'and now tommy desmond is nursed by the police far and near. i am a master at my trade, i am.' he has not changed much since we recognized him at his trial, five years ago, and tried to help him." robert turned to see the face above him in the moonlight. "he said more than that." "he was very frank," john answered laconically. "then, go on, please. i never meant that we should give up the last chance because it was unpleasant, or unsafe. theo--she has just tasted her girlhood, just commenced to live; how can we let her lose it all? i would rather smudge my fingers in saving her than wear the bar sinister of cowardice. there are laws i know you will not break, because, being yourself, you can not. go on, and tell me what desmond said." a white moth, hunting some star across the dark, dashed itself against allard's coat and hung quivering there. he paused to disentangle the delicate wings before replying, the careful seriousness of the little action in itself a characterization. "there has been shown to me a way to make enough money to thrust poverty out of sight for the present and find comfort for the future. a way to save sun-kist in the short time left us to command. but it is by a crime, a crime which the world calls as ugly as forgery. you know for what desmond was punished. yet it is in a certain sense the crime magnificent, in that one wrongs a government instead of an individual, and dashes the gauntlet into the face of the state itself. it is the crime that to the least degree smudges, because, after all, it offers a fair equivalent for value received." "what do you mean?" "the old mine is no longer worth operating; but there is silver in small quantities," allard replied quietly. "enough for desmond's use. naturally, he never dreamed of making such a proposition to me. he simply told me how the affair could be carried out, as he told me a dozen other amazing possibilities and reminiscences. i encouraged him to talk, at first merely to dull the clamor of thought at my inner ear. in the end, i kept him near here." "it's so real, john?" "it's so real and so possible. i have satisfied myself of that. either of us could carry the plan through, with desmond; but we must realize that the one who undertakes it steps out of this life. for, facing the fact, disaster in the end is almost certain. the government machinery is very perfect; he who breaks the law can scarcely hope to escape arrest sooner or later. and if that happens, our world must never guess. whoever accepts the work must leave here for an indefinite journey abroad, ostensibly; and in reality lose his identity absolutely somewhere. the one who goes must endure in silence whatever happens; the one who stays--" "go on." "the one who stays," john finished gently, "must not interfere or try to save." robert shuddered slightly and sat still for an instant. "it is for the women," he said, his boyish voice quite steady. "shall we draw lots, or will you let me go?" "bertie, bertie!" john exclaimed, and, rising abruptly, walked to the rail. when he came back to the seat beside his brother, it was with his face turned from the silver light pouring through the arches of the veranda. "we are spared the pain of choosing our rôles, bertie," he declared with grave finality. "the decision is not ours. theodora cares for one of us. aunt rose admitted as much to me, although she herself could not say which. of course that one is the one who stays. you see i am just taking it for granted that we both love her. we have never talked about it, but we knew, i think." "yes." john waited, but no more was volunteered. "you agree with me?" he at last questioned. "oh, i suppose so!" robert flung savagely. "john, i am not blind; if you propose this, it is because you are satisfied theo will choose me. if you sacrifice everything to save sun-kist for the women, it is because you mean the sacrifice to be yourself. tell the truth; if i were to go, you would refuse to carry out the plan." "i said either of us could do the work." "yes, but you mean to do it yourself." "i mean to leave the decision to theodora." "honestly?" "honestly. and our time is short, robert; ask her to-night when she comes home." "i will not," he refused flatly. "take your right as eldest and tell her your story before i tell mine. i will not take that advantage of you. oh, if she were only less delicate, less fastidiously reared, less unable to endure even vexation! if we could fight it out, you and i!" "hush, hush; this is the fight. we are paying the penalty of being fit for no better battle; he who can use neither sword nor gun must be sent to dig in the muddy trenches." "we could take care of ourselves." "without doubt, or starve decently. but we have to take care of others." "john, let me go." "play fair, bertie." "john--" "and theo?" the younger dropped his head against the other's knee. "i think your part will be harder than mine," john rejoined, after a long silence. "it is less difficult to suffer than to watch another endure. i can very well believe we are taking the wrong way, but i do not see a better. and for the--smudge--i have one consolation." "that is, john?" "the crime chosen is one the state finds it advisable to condemn for reasons of policy. it is not so actual a wrong to our fellow-men as a fortune made in wall street or in speculating on their necessities. i am going to break man's regulations, not god's law." "i hope you are right," said robert with equal reverence. "but you are taking an unblazed trail, and the safe road lies far aside." down the smooth slope of the country-side crept the vibrating throb of an automobile, accompanied by laughter and the faint sound of gay voices. some one in the party was singing--a man whose clear tenor reached the two on the veranda, filtered to purest pathos through the veil of distance: "_sconto col sangue mio l'amor que posi in te! non ti scordar--non ti scordar di me--_" "that is billy clive," robert identified wearily. "he is an arrant humbug, is billy; i do not believe he ever had a serious moment in his life. theo is coming; will you speak to her? it may be you, after all, you know." "i think not, bertie." "but you will try?" through the night air pierced the crescendo wail of a horn, startling the insect choirs into silence and waking a sleepy bird in the wistaria vines. both men rose. "if i must," john yielded. "yet i have an idea it will not matter who speaks first, and perhaps you are not quite up to the task to-night. yes, i will try." "and try fairly. i," as the white lights of the car swung into the avenue, "i am going in." their hands met in passing, robert turning to the house door and john descending the wide steps to greet the arrival. "the most delicious time," pealed the sweet, high voice of a girl above the noise of the halted automobile. "good night, mrs. preston. until to-morrow, sue and billy. oh, john, you!" "come over to-morrow, allard," rang the merry chorus. "don't forget the hunt." "bring robert, old man." "_adiós_, theo." the car started noisily, and whirled down the driveway. "i am so tired," sighed the girl on the steps, gathering up her shimmering skirts and throwing back the hood of her cloak. "mama has gone to bed, john? oh, and i do want tea! why should i not have tea at midnight, if i like? i love to be revolutionary." "why not, indeed? sit down there in your chosen divan, my lady." "you will bring me tea?" "wait only." she sank laughing into a chair and began to draw off her long gloves, watching him as he moved to the little tea-table in a nook of the veranda. allard possessed an almost feminine deftness at such tasks; perhaps it was as well that robert was not busied with the fragile china and glass that evening. "it was a nice dance," theodora mused aloud. "but then, almost everything is nice. only i missed you and robert. a dance without robert is like a salad without cayenne." "and a salad with cayenne?" "is the chief joy of life's dinner." he brought the cup and she extended a slim, jeweled hand to receive it. theodora had a somewhat oriental taste; odors of sandalwood and rose breathed from her laces, her white wrist sparkled with slender bracelets, and the high comb in her blonde hair held the glint of gems. "why do you not laugh at my epigram?" she demanded. "thank you; i would say you were adorable if you did not already know it. please give me a biscuit, and give yourself some tea. why are you so serious to-night?" "i had something to tell you, i think." she waved a commanding spoon. "then sit down and begin." but allard remained silent, regarding her. it was not easy to begin. moreover, the glamour of the future had fallen away, leaving the naked ugliness; and he was held by a prescient certainty that to-night ended for ever this gracious life. [illustration: allard remained silent, regarding her.] "robert is not up?" theodora queried presently, too fine to insist on the suggested confidence. "no. are you sorry, theo?" surprised at the tone, she glanced up, but the shadows were heavy where he sat. "why, yes, of course." and recovering herself, "certainly; how could we exist without him?" "how, indeed?" he echoed, rather too quietly for naturalness. "suppose he were to go away?" "i should expire immediately of ennui. you see, he and i have a bond of frivolity; while against you we all lean for support. you are very supporting, john; now, this tea," she laughed gleefully. "robert probably would have pressed champagne upon me, because it is less trouble to get." "you might have made tea yourself," he suggested, drawing a branch of the wistaria to shade his face more completely. "i hate to do things for myself. i hope that i never will have to." "i hope not. but i promised to tell you something. i am going on a trip to south america; part business, part restlessness." "you!" "why not? i can not play all the time, you know, not being a girl myself. i may be away only a few months, or--much longer. but let me be quite frank; surely you are aware robert loves you, theo. if i should not be home before you are married, still you will understand how much good i wish you both, and remember that i said this now. forgive me for speaking of this; it is ventured because i start to-morrow." she sat very still, and he heard her hurried breathing in the hush. "i did not know you meant that," she said at last, her accents unsure. "or you would not have confessed? never mind my blundering interference, little cousin; i have no wish so dear as that you two should care for each other. you are not angry?" she rose abruptly to set down the cup, the shadows now a cloak for her. "angry? oh, no; i have never learned to be angry with you. i--it is damp out here; i must go in. good night, john." "good night, theo," he responded with all gentleness. it was so wonderful, this exquisite timidity, this virginal shyness that only robert should have seen. he saw her quivering as she passed him in the moonlight, her head averted. but in the doorway she turned back. "john, as we entered the avenue to-night, there was a man standing near the olive-trees. mr. preston stopped the car and called to ask what he did there. the man answered that he was waiting to see you about some gardening work, but it was so late that you must have forgotten. he sounded honest, but mr. preston bade me warn you, saying that a man, once your father's servant, had just been released from prison, and might use a knowledge of sun-kist to attempt burglary. you will be careful?" "i will be careful," he answered calmly. "thank you, dear." she slipped hurriedly across the threshold, as if in escape, ruthlessly tearing her thin gown upon the door-latch. allard wearily rested his head against the column behind him, and so remained. at the end of an hour he rose and went down across the moon-blanched lawns, walking steadily and directly toward the group of olive-trees. he knew for what desmond was waiting, knew what answer would be given, and it seemed to him that he had already severed the connection between the present and the future. it seemed to him that not to-morrow, but to-night, he was taking leave of all things; that the unblazed trail led straight on from behind those dark trees just beyond him. the white statues stirred with the wavering shadows as he passed; the rich scent of the tuberoses called as a familiar voice; like a patter of tiny footsteps the ripple of the fountain followed. chapter ii the key to the door "the road you called, and i believed to be, an unblazed trail through a grave forest, i am beginning to see is just the old sordid, musty bridge of sighs across which common malefactors are led," wrote john allard to robert three months after his departure from sun-kist. "but if we can agree with browning's dictum, there is a certain virtue simply in keeping on at a task assumed, even if the end be questionable. and i am keeping on. do not fancy i am saying this to trouble you, or in weak regret. all is going better than we dared hope, as you know; and i see no danger near, at present. no; it is only that i have been fearing i gave you some edged doctrines; do not close your hand upon them, for they cut. you can not write to me, of course, since you do not know where i am. nor shall i myself write again, even with this guarded and unsigned precaution. when this venture ends, i am going away from america; i think i shall enlist in france's foreign legion. not because i am afraid, but because i want to work. yet, in spite of success, it seems to me that, like saxon harold, i hear a cry in the night: '_sanguelac, the arrow, the arrow!_'" * * * * * there was nothing in the quiet, sun-filled, little hut nestled on the mountain-side, to indicate that here rested one end of the _ponte degli sospiri_. yet to one of the two men here at bay, the dark bridge arched away as a thing visible. a siege had been held there all the june afternoon, until now this grateful lull had fallen,--a siege whose tale was punctuated with the snap of bullets, the crash of loosened stones down the cliff, and the shouts of men below. no one yet had ventured on the steep, narrow path winding up to the hut, although there was but one defender, and so far the battle had been bloodless. but neither the big irishman leaning by the door, nor john allard, lying helpless on a rough cot, had any doubt of the final result. they were simply waiting for the end to come. "desmond, have you hurt any of them?" allard asked suddenly, rousing himself from a reverie bordering on stupor. "i have not," answered the other in accents just touched with hibernian softness. "but i am thinking they will not come up until dusk. bird shot scatters." "our own men have gone safely?" "they have. and if you had not slipped through that hole in the old floor and broken your ankle--" allard raised himself on his elbow. fever lent an artificial brightness to his firm young face and shadowed gray eyes, the waving chestnut hair clung boyishly around a forehead which had acquired one straight line between the brows during the five months since he had left sun-kist. "you should not have stayed, desmond," he said earnestly. "you can not help me; i have my own way out of this. you must go now, at least, and try the mountain. i ask you to go." "and if i do, it must be at dusk. look out that door; not a cloud or a shade--and me with a hundred yards of bare mountain-side to cross. lie easy, sir." "desmond!" "oh, it's a word slipped! old times are close enough for their ways to come to my tongue in the rush." allard shook his head, but sank back upon the pillow and let his gaze go out the open door opposite. far below, the silver and azure hudson widened into the tappan zee, set in purple and emerald hills which curved softly away to the distant outposts of the palisades. fair and tranquil, warmly palpitating under the summer sunshine, the scene was cruel in its placid indifference to the struggle here upon the cliff-like mountain. the very breeze that fluttered in brought taunting perfumes of cedar and blossom from a country-side out of reach; poised airily between earth and sky, a snowy sea-gull flaunted its unvalued liberty. sighing, the californian dropped the curtain of his lashes before a world no longer his. he had been so near safety, the arrow had been held so long upon the cord, that disaster came now with a double keenness of stroke. "desmond," he said, after a pause, "we have nothing to do with old times or titles. i can trust your will, i know; but do not let your memory betray me. i mean, words _must_ not slip. i hope you are going to get out of this safely; i can not, of course. after my--capture," a curious expression flickered across his face, "no matter how things end, you may count that i will say nothing of you or the others. will you, at all times in the future, remember that i am just leroy?" "i will," the big man replied briefly. "and the others don't know anything." "no; there is only you. you it would not help if the truth were made public; it would only excite more attention. you yourself do not want your former record connected with your stay here. if you escape, you will be free and comparatively rich; leave me my secret, desmond; i shall have nothing else." "you needn't worry about me," desmond reassured, his eyes on the ribbon of path that was visible. "it might be better, i'm thinking, to do the worrying about how you'll come out of this." "_fiat justicia_," allard returned, with a cool endurance quite free from bitterness. "or, more intelligibly, i must pay for my cakes and ale. only carry your part through, and do not talk." "you needn't worry. there's a man around that big boulder down there! will i have to shoot bird seed at his legs, i wonder?" "not if you can avoid!" "oh, i'm not playing at it; rest easy. and don't fear they'll be believing it's you. when they find me gone and you not able to stand, they'll guess who was shooting. i'll put all the guns beyond your reaching them, to help, before i go to-night." "no!" the swift monosyllable fell with an energy that brought desmond's glance at once to the speaker. "i shall want my revolver," allard added more quietly. "i might need it." "just so," assented the other, regarding him oddly, and presently returned to his guard of the door. there was a long silence. gradually the fluffily piled clouds in the west became tinged with ruddy gold, clouds which bore a fanciful resemblance to elysian mountain peaks, as if heaped so in sport by some imitative baby titan who had patterned them from the hills below. sunset was at hand, and from its brightness allard wearily averted his face. suffering, mental and physical, keyed his nerves to exquisite sensitiveness; a passionate desire for darkness and silence possessed him. suddenly the roaring crash of the huge shotgun set the cottage vibrating, and echoed heavily back and forth among the cliffs. "it's only to scare them," explained desmond, as his companion started up. "but i doubt they will wait past dusk. and we needed just one week more!" "you mean they will rush the place by daylight? you will go now?" "i need the dusk more than they do. still, i won't wait long. you--shall i get you water?--you moved too quick!" "it is nothing," allard panted. but he drank gratefully from the tin dipper, nevertheless, and in returning it searched with gentler eyes the hard, intelligent countenance of the giver. "it is nothing i can not face, all this, if i can be certain you will keep silence." "i will," he said, and walked back to the door in cautious vigilance. allard lay still. evening: theodora would be on the veranda in her pretty dinner gown, perhaps with a flower tucked over her little ear in the spanish fashion she mimicked, if this were home. aunt rose would be reading in her favorite chair, robert lounging near them and pouring out his usual flood of sparkling gaiety and nonsense. allard smiled tenderly and with a touch of defiance; after all, he had won the battle fought for them, had carried out the task set, before to-day's ruin overtook him. moreover, he had his own way of escape, resolved upon since the first. he almost could be content. "it's growing dark," broke in desmond's voice after a time. "i'm thinking they'll be making that rush mighty soon. i'd give something to take you along, instead of having to climb like a cat up the bluff." allard roused himself. "not possible! you should have gone with the rest instead of being here now." he held out his hot hand for the other's clasp. "good-by, desmond. without you this thing would never have worked at all." "it's not so. many a time this game has been tried and has fallen through half-way; and it's not thousands are made at it. you did it, with the gentleman's brain and knowledge and wit. not that it matters now." "not very much. you are forgetting my revolver." "no, i am not forgetting. you will not need it." he turned away to add the last one to the pile of weapons in the opposite corner. allard rose on his arm, his eyes flashing wide and keen. "you have no idea what i need, desmond. give me that revolver." "you would shoot no one, and it would be of no use." "desmond, we have been friends; give me that." "i can't," he answered sullenly. "why not?" "because i know for what you want it, sir." allard flung back his head and confronted the defiant face opposite with the fevered anger of his own. "and if so, is it your affair? have you, you who have led your life, grown sentimental? you, who know from where i come and to where i am going,--you will interfere? you are wasting our time; give me my revolver, and go." but the other made no move, although sending an anxious glance through the doorway. "one gets out of prison," he said obstinately, "as i've tried myself. but that that you mean--there's no coming back. you are over young for that, sir." "you have been paid for helping me," allard retorted, his voice savage with pain, "not for teaching me philosophy. go take your liberty, if you can, and leave me mine. there is one door out for me, and one key. i trusted you; i might have kept the thing with me if i had imagined this." desmond flushed, but turned coolly. "i'll go, it's time. if i was paid for helping, i gave the help. i never was paid for this you are asking." "desmond, desmond, you leave me so!" he turned on the threshold, a square, obstinate figure against the violet twilight. "i'd never do it," he said quite gently, "if i didn't know you'd thank me some day." "desmond--" "good-by, sir." "desmond--" the doorway was empty; the evening serenata of a robin filled the hush. allard's head sank on his arm in the darkest moment of the last somber months. but presently he looked up again. still dressed as when the accident had happened a few hours before, he possessed a tiny box of cartridges, and only the width of the room separated him from his desire. he impulsively tossed aside the blanket and slipped to the floor. the fall drew a gasp of pain. all before faded to insignificance beside the anguish of movement. it was not the ankle only; the injury had gone farther than that. colorless, catching his breath with difficulty, allard dragged himself inch by inch toward the goal. desmond was almost forgotten when the first shot on the mountain-side rang out. startled from the mists of suffering, allard paused an instant. then as a very fusillade reverberated among the cliffs, he toiled on with redoubled haste. they would come next for him. it had a pearl and silver handle, that revolver. he had treasured it because it was a gift from robert, and a souvenir too frequently duplicated to betray his identity. now the pearl shone a glistening spot in the surrounding grayness, beckoning, tantalizing. it was so far across the room, so very far! shots again! he struggled yet more desperately, and the resulting pang brought waves of faintness above his head. if he could only rest, so. some one was shouting, half exultantly, half fearfully, and other voices replied in equal excitement. some one was killed, they were saying, had fallen from the cliff. desmond, perhaps? allard roused himself fiercely and saw with gratitude how near the coveted object lay. a little farther, only a little; but it cost. the rush and patter of feet grew louder,--the steady approach of the hunters. it hardly mattered, for the cool white handle was in the grasp of his outstretched hand. he had won, won doubly. he had accomplished his task, and he held the key to the door. robert's face leaned toward him, warm with relief and praise; theodora was in the room, bringing fragrances of sandalwood and rose-- once more he drove back the mists and dragged the revolver to him, smiling, but with knit brows. chapter iii his royal highness they looked at each other steadily, the distinguished visitor and the prisoner who polished a brass railing. beside them an official was droning a particularly monotonous and dreary account of the institution, his eyes half-closed with the mental exertion of recollection, his thoughts turned inward and absorbed. there were several gentlemen and officers of the building in the bare room, chatting with one another in varying degrees of boredom and interest, and completely ignoring the quiet prisoner who had been john allard. yet he was perhaps the only one present, with the exception of the man facing him, who escaped the commonplace. "you have something to say?" questioned the grave, lustrous dark eyes of the visitor; eyes southern in their long-lashed softness, northern in their directness. and allard's gray eyes returned assent with an utter calm which overlay the surface of tragedy. "on the east bank of the hudson, six miles above tarrytown," went on the droning voice of the official, then broke as the visitor's cool, slightly imperious tones fell across the monologue: "ah, and is it permitted to speak with your inmates, if one has the fancy?" the official stared, but smiled vaguely. "certainly, sir; if _you_ wish," he replied. again the eloquent glances of the other two crossed. "you have much of this work?" queried the visitor, the words scarcely heeded either by speaker or listener in the deeper search for a means of communication. allard answered in french, the fluent, barely-accented french of a traveled american: "that man in gray who accompanies you, monsieur, the man near the window, is not to be trusted. he was released from this place last year, after serving a term for his share in some paterson anarchistic outrages. he is dangerous, and he watches you constantly." the visitor was trained to self-control; he did not commit the mistake of looking toward the man in question. but he could not quite check the flash of blended emotions which crossed his own expression. "thank you," he said. and after an instant, "i thought i recognized you when i saw you on entering; now you have spoken, i am certain. yet--" allard flushed from throat to temples, the color dying out again to leave even his lips white. but his reply was steadily given. "there is no one here whom you know, monsieur, or who knows you. even a prison has its courtesies. turn your head away, and go past," he said. "would you have done so, finding a friend in such a strait?" "i have no friends." "then why did you warn me against dancla, my anarchistic secretary yonder?" the question was unexpected, and left allard momentarily disconcerted. "confess we knew each other very well five years ago," the visitor added gently, and paused to consider. a few paces off the official stood stupidly enjoying the respite from exertion; placidly indifferent to an incomprehensible conversation inspired by a whim of the guest. the other three or four men were admiring the view from a window facing the river, and listening to their cicerone. "i wish you would go away, monsieur," allard said only, when he had recovered perfect command of himself. "be patient with me yet a moment. we were both avowedly masquerading during those weeks of boyish frolic at palermo; do you know who i am?" "no more than i knew then: that you were a european, and evidently of position." "you have more liberty than some of those here, i think." "yes; i am what they call a trusty;" the straight line between the fine brows deepened markedly. "i beg your pardon; i do not ask from curiosity. my yacht is anchored before this place--if i return through here in an hour, on my way to it, can you be here still?" allard hesitated. "i believe so, but i would prefer not. i can aid you no further; and--" "and?" for an instant the curtain was withdrawn from the prisoner's clear eyes. "you wake what is better asleep. it is not pleasant for me to meet you, monsieur." the visitor caught his breath. it came to him with a shock of realization that many days and nights might pass before he could forget that straight glance of quivering pain and humiliation, of proudly endured hopelessness. "yet i ask it," he insisted. "very well. if i am not here it will be because it was not possible." the visitor turned away with well-assumed carelessness. "i fancied your prisoner there was a fellow-countryman," he remarked to the official, in passing on. "but he appears to be french." "yes, sir. he said he came from the south, at his trial." the man had necessarily kept beside the visitor to reply, and they walked down the room so together. "what is he here for?" came the idle inquiry. "counterfeiting, sir. right over on that mountain across the river, they captured him and killed one of his comrades. the rest got away in time, and they never were found because this man would tell nothing, even to save himself. he might have turned state's evidence and got off with a light sentence, for he was young and not known to the police. but he wouldn't and he got the whole thing. leroy, his name is. the officers who captured him believe he never meant to be taken alive; for they found him unconscious, with a little pistol in his hand, and they guessed that he fainted before he could use it. he had to spend weeks in a hospital before he could be tried, getting over a broken ankle and some other worse injuries. but he and his fellows had done clever work, no one knows how much. this leroy might have been from across the water, as you say, sir; no one knows him here." "how long has he been here?" "two years, sir." "and his sentence?" "fifteen." the visitor shuddered involuntarily. pleased by his interest, the official brightened to offer further diversion: "if you'll come to the inner building, sir, i can show you some more. we've some in for life--" "thank you," the visitor refused bruskly, and moved aside to rejoin his companions. the little group fell silent and expectant at the approach of the one whose escort they were. it was rather a brilliant group against the somber prison background. dancla, "the man in gray" of allard's warning, was the only member not in uniform, with the exception of the distinguished visitor himself. "i am going into the town," their chief announced, pausing before them, "with dancla. you may return to the yacht. vasili, send the launch for me in an hour. ah, and leave on that bench by the door my rain coat; i fancy it will be storming before we return. you understand?" "perfectly, your royal highness," responded vasili, a trim, blond young aide-de-camp with a most ingenuous smile. he spoke in french, as did all the party. "i alone have the honor of accompanying your royal highness?" dancla asked, not without a shade of uneasiness. the velvet black eyes of his chief passed over him deliberately. "you alone; come." they went out, attended by the prison officials, past the prisoner still at work. laughing and chatting, the rest of the party walked down the room to the door nearest the river. the place left seemed darker for their going, the silence more profound after their gay voices. * * * * * "we knew each other very well five years ago--" when the patient has apparently reached the climax of suffering, when the very excess of pain brings a relief of numbness, fate the inquisitor occasionally finds amusement in devising a fresh form of putting the question. upon allard was forced the san benito of renewed recollection. nearly five years before, john allard, in all his gay insouciance of twenty-one years, had spent an hour on the quay at palermo to enjoy the limpid sicilian night. alone at first, he was presently joined by a young officer with whom he had crossed from italy a few days before and formed a slight shipboard acquaintance. knowing nothing of each other, there had nevertheless sprung into life between them that curious sympathy and friendliness which can be born of exchanged glances, meeting smiles; that sudden inexplicable liking which can make two passing strangers turn to gaze wistfully after each other and vaguely resent the trick of chance that has set their feet in opposite paths. it is one of the common phenomena of existence, but it was new to allard, and perhaps new to his companion as well. they sat side by side while evening melted into night, starlight into late moonrise; and they chatted of everything tangible and intangible suggested by the place and the time. but they did not touch the personal note until the cathedral chimes were pealing midnight. "i must go back," commented the european wearily. "i have had my last day." "your last day!" allard echoed, startled. "of freedom, yes. i was promised a month's vacation; a month to spend as i chose, but i have good reason to know the promise has been revoked. oh, not for any cause,--just my uncle's whim. he is fond of playing with me so." "do you always do what he says?" queried the young america incredulously. "i have that habit; it is safer, and more virtuous. still, virtue palls when its reward is invisible. when i go back to the hotel, petro will hand me a telegram demanding my return to the empire." "then i would not go back to the hotel," was the blithe suggestion. "run before you are told to stay. come share my bachelor hut and let rome vociferate for a while." "you are not in earnest," said the other, turning to look at him with an odd, eager surprise. allard had not been, but he adopted his own idea with the light-hearted impulsiveness of his _bel age_. "why not? my people--my brother and aunt and cousin--have gone for a glimpse of germany; and i have stayed here to cram for my last year of college. i have a delicious miniature villa five miles out of town, which i have taken until their return, and which is a thousand times too big for me alone. come stay out your vacation with me. if your uncle promised you a month, he can not complain if you take it. it is not your fault if you do not receive his old telegram." "no. i am not supposed to know it is coming." "well, then, why not come? send a note to your servant at the hotel, and tell him you are visiting a friend. he will have to telegraph your uncle that you are not to be found." the european stood up and looked out across the shining water. "i am nearly twenty-seven years old," he stated, "and i have never in my life had one week of my own. if you are serious, i will do this." "of course i am serious. we will have the time of both our lives. come," the spirit of adventure in his veins, "you can write your note in that trattoria over there, and pay a boy to take it. we shall then make a straight dash for villa giocosa." "you do not know me, and i can not tell you my name without spoiling all. if i tell you, we can not ignore it, try as we may." allard paused, then laughed out in sheer delight at the situation. "i forgot all about names; i believe you do not know mine, for that matter. but come incognito, if you choose. i will even play host incognito, if that will arrange matters. monsieur, my christian name is john." youth, and the south, and the romance-freighted sicilian night! "you are very good," said the other simply. "i am called feodor." they went home to villa giocosa. the three weeks which followed were a charming and graceful incident to allard, an interlude in his happy, pleasantly-filled life. what they were to his companion, the american did not realize until long afterward. the two young men read or lounged together in the mossy garden, boated on the placid sea, talked and smoked through the tranquil evenings in the perfection of comradeship. but they kept the playful incognito, calling each other don john and don feodor in the pretty italian custom of the island where they met. yet there was a difference, for the frank and communicative allard soon laid all his past and present open to view, while the other never spoke of himself. "how much you know!" exclaimed allard, one day when don feodor came to the aid of the college man and passed from complicated subject to subject with the light surety of a master of each. "i ought to know something; i have been trained in a school that concedes no rest," was the composed reply. the idyl ended abruptly. one sun-gilded, flower-scented noon, a messenger was ushered into the villa garden. in silence don feodor accepted and read the letter brought, in silence wrote and gave to the bearer his answer. and then he turned to his dismayed host. "they have found me," he said quietly. "of course you can not realize how i shall remember this time; you are too happy." that was all. but allard had remembered also; remembered the breathless, hot hush of noon, the heavy perfume of orange- and lemon-blossoms, as they shook hands in the old garden, and the sense of boyish desolation with which the farewell had left him. "we knew each other very well, five years ago--" the prisoner bent his head over his work, setting his white teeth in his lip until his mouth was bitter with the taste of his own blood. the short spring day drew toward its close. the threatened storm marshaled its gray columns down the river, a sighing rain whispered around the building of sorrows. very early, shore and water alike blended into vague, indeterminate dusk. rather less than the hour fixed had elapsed when the distinguished visitor, who had once worn the name of don feodor instead of that journalistic title, reëntered the upper end of the hall. he came accompanied only by the same stolid official as before; dancla had disappeared. opposite the prisoner he paused to light a cigarette, then hesitated, looking from him to the little gold case in his own hand. "i am going out again with this officer," he said in french, his casual tone excellently feigned. "go to that river door, put on the coat lying upon the bench and the cap you will find in a pocket, then walk slowly to the barred gate and wait for me. when i come, salute me and follow." allard stiffened to rigidity, his eyes seeking the other's. "i am guilty of what they accuse; do you still wish this?" he demanded. there was something more than admiration in the visitor's smile. "did you question me in palermo, or did you accept caste as enough? yes, i wish it." he turned to the official and offered him the gold case. "i wanted to give the poor devil a cigarette," he explained. "but he says it is not allowed. ah, i have forgotten to sign your register; will you come back?" "yes, sir," readily consented the man, curiously inspecting the diminutive, gold-tipped, perfumed cigarette lying in his ample palm. the nicotine bon-bon touched his massive sense of the ludicrous; he was still contemplating it as he led the way back. when the two vanished, allard went swiftly down the long room, casting around him a glance of feverish scrutiny. he reached the door as a great gong announced the time when he should have returned from his work. snatching up the coat, he slipped into it, pulled out the yachting cap with its gilt insignia, and finding a pair of gloves, drew them over his stained hands. so far well! the most dangerous part, the journey across the broad, open wharf under the gaze of the armed guards in the towers, at least gave him the tonic of the sweet, wet air. "i need john allard's unshaken nerves," he told himself grimly. "if i reach there, perhaps i can believe he still exists." the cloudy twilight, just light enough to show his conventional outline, just dark enough to veil discrepancies, aided him. he walked quite slowly and naturally, carefully avoiding puddles, stopping once to turn up his collar against the drizzling rain. several times he looked back for his companion, and strolled on again. a dozen eyes watched the self-possessed figure as he leaned nonchalantly upon the barred gate, and passed from him to the more interesting spectacle of the small white launch and immaculate crew waiting outside. there was little time, and the visitor, now with three attendant officials, moved slowly across the space. "god," prayed allard dumbly, leaning against the gate in anguished waiting. "i think i have paid; but if not, let them shoot--to kill." the group came nearer, halted. allard drew himself stiffly erect and raised his hand in salute as the tallest man came opposite, then obeyed a slight movement of direction and stepped behind him. a grating of locks, a brief exchange of compliments, and for the first time in two years the prisoner stood without the barriers. free, if only for that instant, free, and in reach of the lapping river. the sailors waited at rigid salute, the visitor stepped into the swaying launch, and as allard followed the gate closed--behind him. the tiny engine puffed, caught its beat, and the boat darted toward the dim white shape out in the stream. lights were flashing up here and there in the buildings, shining through the barred windows. to see the uncheckered sky again! at the throb of their motor the yacht gleamed unexpectedly into an outline of myriad-pointed fire. men ran across the decks, a miniature staircase fell in readiness. "follow me closely," directed the cool voice, when the launch stopped. the wet, shining deck, the mutely respectful figures waiting to receive them, all blurred into insignificance for allard. as his foot touched the yacht, pandemonium broke loose in the prison. out over shouts and gong crashed the deafening roar of the huge whistle, rousing the country-side for miles around. "it means?" questioned the master of the situation. "they know i am missing--and they will think to search the yacht first." "they will not search it without my consent, but i shall grant it. come." a hand closed on allard's arm; he was guided swiftly down a tinted and gilded companionway, across several rooms no less brilliant, and finally halted in a jewel box state-room. "the clothes lie ready; get into them as soon as possible and come back to me. lose no time, and toss the things you wear into that chest," came the directions. "i dare send no one to aid you." "i understand," allard answered, equally collected. in those palermo days, it had been don john who had lent don feodor a dinner dress; there would be little difficulty in the substitution now. the other man went out to the salon. touching a bell on the table, he gave his outer garments to the attendant who appeared. "i shall not dress for dinner," he stated. "let it be served here, now." "your royal highness is obeyed." "and my companion is a gentleman who takes dancla's place; let the suite be arranged for him." "yes, your royal highness." his royal highness sat down in an arm-chair, his dark eyes more drowsily lustrous than usual as he listened to the din on shore. his old-world beauty of feature was characterized very strongly by the locked tranquillity of expression seen in those who live constantly under the observation of others; he wore a mask of repose not readily lifted. it was not long before allard came out, and closing the door behind him, stood for a moment regarding his host with an expression that blended all thoughts in its passionate intensity. and prepared as he was for the change, remembering as he did the don john of palermo, the other yet returned the gaze with startled admiration and wonder. this gentleman, who proclaimed his class in bearing, glance, in the very poise of his head with its short, waving chestnut hair of patrician fineness,--how had he been confounded for one hour with the underworld? who had found the stamp of criminality in the strong, fine, sorrowful face? "monsieur," said allard, taking a step forward. recalled, the host rose at once. "pardon a thousand times; i must remember you are the guest now and that this is not villa giocosa. but i can not play incognito any more. i have told my people that you come to take the place of my late secretary, dancla--the man of whom you warned me--so you comprehend that it would never do for us not to know each other. i am feodor stanief." too aloof from recent european news, too long separated in thought from his former careless knowledge of such things, the name awoke in allard only a vague sense of familiarity. "if you have so much patience, or care for the old days, i will tell you my story whenever you choose, monsieur," he answered frankly and with dignity. "until then, may i still give you the half-truth of villa giocosa and bear the name of john?" the soft tinkle of china interrupted them. stanief had only time to reply with his unexpectedly brilliant smile, before the servant entered the salon. "i shall have pleasure in claiming the confidence, monsieur john," he returned, "and may have one to give, if you concede what i hope. marzio, what is that uproar outside?" turning to the servant. "your royal highness, it is not known. the people on shore are much disturbed." "apparently. if we were home, monsieur john, i should call it a riot; but here--" he shrugged his shoulders and moved toward the table. allard followed, noting for the first time the title given the other. interpreting his glance, stanief nodded intelligence as the servant withdrew for an instant. "yes; a mere formality, but one it is not safe to ignore in our delicate position. to speak otherwise might draw attention." allard looked across the miniature dining table, of which the shaded candles and slim vase of flowers, the translucent crystal and frosty silver, all seemed to typify and insist upon the life which so strangely claimed him; and gazing at the author of this, the gray eyes grew splendidly luminous with something for which gratitude was too pale and colorless a term. all the hoarded emotion of the last two years, all the despair and desolation, added their strength to his eloquent regard. receiving it, stanief's own eyes grew warm and almost femininely sweet. no speech could have told so much. when the servant reëntered and the lashes of both men fell, a chain unbreakable had been forged, the clearness of wordless understanding was between them. neither spoke during the first course. the rapid beat of a small engine finally disturbed the silence, telling of a launch approaching from shore. "try your sauterne," advised stanief quietly. allard obeyed. the food nauseated him, the heavy pulse of his own heart seemed tangled with the nearing throb of the boat; the suspense was physical pain. the wine helped, sending its vivifying warmth along his numbed nerves. "you know," the tranquil voice added, "this ship is foreign ground. there are a few formalities attached. we should have a little time, even--" allard lifted his head with a quick breath. "once, in such an hour, i asked one whom i believed a friend to leave me a revolver," he said. "not being of the class, he refused. if there should be--a little time, i will make that request of you, your royal highness." "and i am of the class. but there are many things before that." voices on deck, hurrying feet, stilled the sentence. "thank you," allard answered, and waited. marzio again, deftly removing plates, changing glasses. then another entrance,--the blond vasili who had accompanied stanief that day. "well?" queried his chief. "your royal highness, captain delsar respectfully begs an interview." "why?" "your royal highness, a boat from shore has arrived and the officers request permission to search the yacht for an escaped prisoner." "is that the reason for the din they are creating?" "yes, your royal highness." stanief selected a cigarette and pushed the tray toward allard. "of course they have no right to do so," he replied indifferently, "but i have no objection. let them search, by all means. tell captain delsar to aid them all he can, although, unless he swam, there was no way for a man to reach the yacht except on the launch which brought monsieur john and me. monsieur john, let me introduce lieutenant paul vasili." allard turned to acknowledge the other's friendly salute. stanief faced the door, which consequently was behind his companion. "give the message, vasili, and say the yacht is open to them; even these rooms, if they wish. and tell the captain that we sail in an hour. that is all." silence again. allard mechanically maintained the pretense of eating with each course while in reality he knew nothing but the faint sounds of the search and the intermittent roar of the whistle. with the coffee came vasili once more. stanief nodded permission for the message. "your royal highness, the officers from the prison have finished. as a matter of form, they would accept your royal highness' offered consent and glance in here, in order to report every part of the yacht examined." "very good; admit them. marzio, why have you this electric light over the table? turn it out; the candelabra and the side lights are ample." both orders were promptly obeyed. vasili disappeared and the flaring light went out, leaving the room softly glowing with rosy color. stanief looked into the set face opposite with the first trace of annoyance on his own. "i forgot the coat, left on the bench all the afternoon. if any one saw it--" allard made a movement, then the door behind him opened. "come in, officer," stanief invited pleasantly. "you are satisfied with a mere survey, or do you wish to carry it farther? i think either mr. john or i have been in this room, however, since we came aboard at half-past five." [illustration: "come in, officer," stanief invited pleasantly.] "yes, sir," answered an embarrassed voice, a voice which for months had represented autocracy for allard. "we just want to report a complete search, sir. i'm sorry to trouble." stanief lighted a cigar, letting the man slowly take in the scene. the gorgeous, velvet-draped salon, the last course of the dinner, the serene "distinguished visitor,"--there was no clue here. and certainly there was nothing to suggest a desperate convict in the gentleman in evening dress whose back was to the door, and who stirred his café noir so indifferently. "why did you fancy he came to the yacht?" stanief inquired. "oh, excuse me, sir; it was only one chance. we thought he might have got to the river and swam for here. you see, it would be pretty hard to get out the other way in his clothes." allard raised his head impulsively. "why," he began, then remembered the punctilious vasili and checked himself. "i beg pardon, your royal highness." a gleam of amusement flickered across stanief's black eyes at the quickly-learned etiquette. "_faîtes_, my dear john," he granted, waiving the point. "it occurred to me that your royal highness had ordered a rain coat to be left on the bench by the rear door, and when we returned it was not there. could it be possible--" "that it was stolen?" caught up stanief, grasping the audacity of the idea. "undoubtedly so. i fancied my order neglected and intended rebuking the one responsible. officer, behold your clue: a hatless man in an english rain coat." the phrase captivated the man's dull imagination. "a hatless man in an english rain coat," he echoed, fascinated. "yes, sir, thank you, sir. we will telegraph all around. if i may go, sir--" "you are quite certain he is not aboard? i do not wish to carry any dangerous stowaways, and we sail at once." "quite sure, sir. i must waste no more time." "good night, then. i imagine you will have no more trouble with that prisoner." "oh, no, sir," not understanding the double meaning. "not after this. a hatless man in an english rain coat! good night, sir." "marzio," said stanief, when the door closed, "you may bring some cognac, and leave us. no one enters." voices on deck, hurrying feet, and presently the retreating throb of a little engine. "drink your cognac, monsieur john." "thank you." "bah, your nerves are superb, but they pay beneath your stillness. drink; i warn you that i have the habit of domination." allard drank. chapter iv the bond the habit of domination stanief assuredly had, however gracefully it were disguised. nor was allard, bruised with conflict, exhausted, dazed, in the mood to resist. he desired feverishly to speak; to tell his story and let stanief, fully informed, decide whether the aid already given was to be continued further. the idea of a deception, a false belief in an injustice suffered by him, was intolerable. but stanief smilingly imposed silence, and he yielded passively. the cigars burned out slowly, the tumult on shore died away. a quivering vibration awoke to delicate life the yacht. stanief smoked or played with his coffee-cup, his heavy double fringe of lashes brushing his cheek; allard leaned back in his chair, less in reverie than in utter exhaustion. exactly as the bells rang the hour came the metallic clank of anchor chains. the yacht shuddered under the screw, the glass and china tinkled faintly, then all settled into regularity as the engines fell into their gait and the beautiful boat moved down the river. "and vasili is out there in poignant distress because he can not come in 'to have the honor to report that we sail,'" remarked stanief, breaking the long pause. "it was daringly conceived, monsieur john, but were you not a trifle imprudent in speaking before that brilliant visitor of ours? your voice?" allard aroused himself abruptly. "our speech back there was confined to monosyllables," he answered. "no, your royal highness, i think there was no risk." stanief did not deprecate the title, perhaps unnoting, perhaps willing to let the other learn. "we are on the high seas, and quite free from listeners," he said composedly. "i ask no questions, demand nothing of you, but if you indeed wish to speak of the closed episode, monsieur john, i am ready. after to-night we shall have other things to occupy us." allard leaned forward eagerly, his clear gray eyes baring to the other man all their tragedy and compelling truth. "i want you to know, it is your right to know," he answered, with a very fierceness of pride and sorrow. "i am going to place in your power more than you have given me to-day. hand me to those who hunt me, give me the pistol promised and the word to use it, but keep my confidence. forgive me, i am not distrustful, only trying to show what i mean." "i understand." allard looked down at the polished surface of the table, his pallor deepening if possible, then suddenly brought his eyes back to stanief's and began to speak. it was a very quiet story, very quietly told. it had never occurred to the anglo-saxon allard to idealize his course into heroism; even mistaken heroism. rather, he had learned to see more clearly, to condemn himself, during those long, bitter months. he bore no resentment for the punishment inflicted; simply it seemed to him that he had paid enough. over the weeks of suffering in the hospital, the bitterness of the public trial with its torturing dread of recognition, he passed in a few brief words. of theodora he spoke only as his cousin and as robert's betrothed; yet dimly he felt that the mute stanief was reading all he left untold. "there was no other way," he concluded, and the phrase was the key-note to all. "undoubtedly it was the wrong way, but there was no other i could find, and i had to take care of them." so far he had spoken of those he loved merely by their relationship. it was the final trust that stanief asked by his next question: "will you tell me your name?" and allard laid his heart in the other's hand. "john leslie allard," he answered. there was an instant's pause. stanief folded his arms on the table and spoke in his turn with no less quiet sincerity. "of the ethics of what you have told me, monsieur allard, i am perhaps not a good judge. i come from one of the world's greatest countries, where from sovereign to peasant necessity is an excuse for all things. i have seen the highest officials of the state stoop to accept systematic bribery; i have seen nobles whose blood was filtered unmixed through centuries, tricking one another and the emperor who trusted them; i have seen the commanders of the army selling for private gain the supplies which stood between their soldiers and starvation. in what you have done i confess to realizing nothing but incredible courage and self-sacrifice, possibly misdirected. but the result has been to leave you alone, as i stand alone in a different sense, so placing a bond between us. there is no one in my world to whom i could give the trust i offer you. offer merely: i have done for you no more than you did in warning me against dancla to-day, and you owe me nothing. you are absolutely free; will you cast your fortune with me, or shall i set you down in some one of the european ports at which we shall touch?" allard bent forward to lay his hand in the one so frankly extended. he remembered stanief's name now, and remembering, comprehended many things. "i have no one, nothing," he answered earnestly. "the purpose for which i gave all is accomplished and laid aside. your royal highness, if you will let me serve you, take your purpose for my goal, your life for my empty existence, i will give you all i can." stanief's firm clasp closed. "agreed. _soit que soit._" and allard repeated the promise as seriously: "be what may." the whistle of a passing tug, laboring through the mists toward haverstraw with its train of scows, drew the corresponding blare of the yacht's siren. involuntarily allard started, his over-strained nerves shrinking. stanief smiled. "let rome howl, john, i may call you john, since we commenced so? indeed i must, after giving you that name in public. you are mine now, and all america can not take you. rest so far; it is one of our old sayings at home: 'a stanief guards his own!'" his own! the long loneliness snatched the phrase greedily; worn out, allard submitted to protection without resentment. a student of men, stanief's eyes smiled behind their lashes as he continued more lightly: "but now for details. you take the place of my secretary, whom i dismissed this afternoon and saw on board a train for albany, very much against his will and very badly frightened. i have ordered his rooms prepared for you. his things are there, and i imagine you will probably find some of them you can use until your own arrive in the morning. i will send petro to you; his ideas are confined to doing as he is told, and i shall tell him that my invitation left you no time for packing. of course you will resume your own name." allard drew back aghast at such a proposition. "my own name--" "why not?" stanief demanded. "could anything be more safe? masquerades are always dangerous and to be avoided. john allard's unquestioned history, his journey abroad from which he reappears as my secretary, defy all investigation, where an assumed name and past could only arouse doubt. if you were challenged now as the escaped prisoner, your safest course would be to give indignantly your own name, proving it by your californian connections and by me. john allard has stepped back upon his stage. write to your brother, if you choose; pick up your old friendships. the last three years simply do not exist for you; knot the past and the future together and let the marred strand go." the logic was unanswerable; with a quivering breath allard took back all he had resigned for ever. "you are right," he yielded, and bent his head to hide what flashed on his lashes. stanief touched the bell and rose. "you are tired, and i have much to arrange. no doubt," the dark eyes were amusedly expressive, "monsieur allard is familiar enough with yachting not to be bored to-morrow. you will find vasili a cheerful companion, rosal also. marzio, show monsieur his rooms and send me petro. and tell captain delsar that i shall have pleasure in receiving him. good night, john." "good night, your royal highness," was allard's reply, but his straight eloquent glance carried its message to the other's heart. alone at last in the coquettish suite set apart for him--the jewel-box luxury of the yacht here manifested in azure and silver daintiness--the great reaction seized allard. so few hours since, he was leroy; it was hard to grasp this reality. he was weary to exhaustion, but something very near fever drove him to the round window which swung back at his touch and let the wet sweet air rush in. leaning there, the very chaos of his thoughts left physical torpor. petro aroused him an hour later--and still with that curious passivity allard allowed himself to be cared for, measured, respectfully consulted. he even found himself ordering the old dishes for breakfast, specifying the old hour of service. and with the once familiar comfort came more restfulness. much later he came a second time to the round window and opened it to the rain and darkness. the april wind passed chill fingers among the boyish curls still warm from the bath, the tiny cold drops sprinkled the throat from which the departed dancla's silken dressing-gown fell back, but allard felt nothing. and suddenly his head sank on his arm. "desmond," he breathed, "i can forgive you, now. can you hear out there, desmond?" the yacht slipped on through the mist, monotonously, steadily. chapter v the new day the morning sunlight penetrated the room riotously, merrily defying the azure silk and lace muffling the windows, glinting in every polished surface and running golden-footed from point to point. lying tranquilly among his pillows, allard watched the man busied in folding and laying away a multitudinous array of garments, placing gloves and handkerchiefs in drawers and arranging toilet articles. "you are not petro," allard remarked finally. the man started and turned. "no, monsieur. with monsieur's permission, i am vladimir. his royal highness said that as monsieur had not yet engaged a valet for the voyage, perhaps i might be accepted. i would be very glad to serve monsieur." "very well," allard assented. stanief was not to be contradicted, but certainly embarrassment seemed unavoidable in view of an absent wardrobe. dancla had been of a decidedly different figure from his successor. "what time is it?" "nearly ten o'clock, monsieur," and he approached and kissed the hand outside the coverlet before the surprised american could object. "every thanks, monsieur; i am monsieur's devoted servant. it pleases monsieur to rise?" "i--suppose so. the yacht has stopped." "yes, monsieur. we are anchored before the great city, new york, since many hours." allard had yet to learn his stanief; the time was to come, when to know an affair in his charge was to abandon anxiety concerning it. the question of the wardrobe was embarrassing only from its overwhelming answer. never even in the other days had allard, naturally simple in tastes, provided himself with the lavish and sybaritic completeness he found awaiting him now. no detail was forgotten; the very toilet-table bore its shining array, each dainty article carrying the correct monogram, j. l. a. marveling, allard pictured what it meant to have produced this in one night; and vaguely realized that there must be a deeper object than mere consideration for his comfort, behind all this unnecessary elaboration. breakfast was served in his own miniature salon. "his royal highness is awake?" he inquired. "monsieur, his royal highness went ashore an hour ago, to pay farewell visits of ceremony." they were to sail soon, then. allard's pulses quickened with relief at the prospect. remembering stanief's expressive injunction to show himself at ease and make friends with his new companions, he resolved to go on deck. but before the white and silver writing-desk he lingered wistfully. "you can mail a letter for me, vladimir?" "certainly, monsieur." the letter must be convincing, and not dangerous in the wrong hands. with a tenderness that was almost pain he recalled the last signed letter to his brother, written on that final night at home, while robert sat by with hidden eyes. a letter he had headed south america, the date blank, to be used as explanation to theodora and her mother if the crash came and he disappeared for years. the thick cream-tinted paper was convincing in itself, bearing in gilt letters the name of the yacht, _nadeja_. my dear old robert: i have just returned from the south, and of course intended to come straight home. but i met h. r. h. the grand duke feodor stanief, who has been visiting the united states, and he is taking me with him as his secretary. i owe him more than i can tell, or you guess, bertie; and this service is a service of love. i will write again; you know there was no opportunity where i have been. give my love to aunt rose and theo--is she quite my sister by this time? very happily and lovingly, my brother, your brother, john allard. like a girl he touched the letter to his lips before putting it in the envelop. robert would watch the eastern newspapers, he knew, and couple the two stories together. the lower hudson was swept by a strong salt wind when allard reached the deck, green and white waves running under the bright sunshine and lashed to swirling froth by the innumerable boats plowing back and forth. on the yacht everything was activity and preparation, all sound overborne by the crash of loading coal. the busy captain delsar left his affairs and came to greet the guest punctiliously, if hurriedly. "we sail this morning," he explained, "and you will understand all that involves for me, monsieur." allard responded cordially; it was so wonderful, so beautiful, just to meet other men again and be himself. and presently lieutenant vasili came to add his cheerful greeting and lead the way to the forward deck, where wicker chairs and small tables stood under a gay scarlet awning. "his royal highness told me this morning to amuse you, if i could," he declared. "indeed, i think he left me behind for that purpose, monsieur john." "allard," the other corrected pleasantly. "i am infinitely obliged to his royal highness, then, i am sure." "a thousand pardons; i misunderstood your name last night." "not exactly, his royal highness calls me john, my christian name." vasili's eyes opened and he regarded his companion with marked respect. "he told me he had known you a long time," he assented, "and that you had been ill. the voyage across will tone you up--if you are a good sailor--before we reach home." "i am a good sailor," allard affirmed, rather astonished at stanief's account of his health. he had no idea of the extreme delicacy of his own appearance, of how those years of torture had left him worn and colorless. vasili tilted his chair against the rail and smiled engagingly. "for my part i am always happiest at sea," he confided. "not that i am concerned with political affairs--_pas si bête_; i leave that for wiser heads. but still one is never secure in a country like ours. i walk straight ahead without asking questions, and hope the grand duke sees i am doing no more; nevertheless, one is more comfortable at sea. ah, this america is a restful place! no intrigues, no rivals, no salt-mines in the background." "a delightful picture you are painting for me," suggested allard laughingly. "oh, you are the friend of his royal highness, monsieur. moreover, every one believes an american or an englishman when he declares himself with one party; it is only each other whom we always suspect. _tiens_, the little white boat!" the little white boat in question was one of the city police launches, and allard's hand closed sharply on the arm of his chair as the officer in charge hailed the yacht, signifying his intention of coming on board. captain delsar went down to receive the visitors, not without visible impatience at the interruption. "come," exclaimed the diverted vasili, after watching the colloquy for a few moments, during which several of the yacht's officers joined their chief. "if it is droll!" "what is it?" "why, of course we all speak french--as does every one at home except peasants--but since dancla went only the grand duke is left who speaks english. and evidently our guests have no french." allard surveyed the group, and glanced up at the gorgeous flag fluttering in the breeze and casting its shadow over him. foreign ground, stanief had called this. "i might play interpreter," he offered slowly. "surely! am i dull not to think of that? shall we go?" the mutually exasperated group paused to look at the pair coming down the deck toward them, vasili in his gold-laced uniform and the gentleman in yachting flannels. "monsieur allard, if you will indeed assist us!" welcomed the captain gratefully. "consider that we sail in an hour, and the moments are going. his royal highness does not accept an excuse instead of a result." "delighted," allard responded, nodding an acknowledgment of the sergeant's equally relieved salute. "officer, can i translate for you? his royal highness is not on board, but i am his secretary--" oh, stanief was very thorough! the cards vladimir had presented were waiting for their owner to use on the occasion. "you are very kind, mr. allard," said the deferential officer, reading the square of pasteboard. "you see, we received a telephone call from up the river at peekskill, asking us to get a better description of the clothes that were stolen by an escaping convict. they've picked up a coat, but it looks rather different from what would be expected. in fact, there was a man inside of it; but he says he lost his hat in the wind, and they haven't yet got the prison people to identify him." it was so long since allard had really laughed that he startled himself, but the humor of the situation was too much. "i think you want to see the grand duke's valet," he explained, and translated for the others. petro was hurriedly sent for, and the fuming captain left the affair in charge of the two young men. "poor wretch; hope he gives them a run," commented vasili. "last year, at home, i had to ride second-class on a crowded train. in the compartment was just such a case as this man's,--convict being taken back to a fortress. we rode ten miles, twenty; suddenly he spoke to me as naturally as possible. 'you know what i'm going to; give me a cigar,' he said, just like that. i gave his guards a ruble, gave him a cigar, and went on reading my _figaro_. before we reached the next station, just over a deep ravine, he flung himself right through the door and down. always felt glad i gave him the cigar." there was a curious unreality in the scene for one of the actors, as he leaned listening against the rail in the warm april sunshine, vasili chatting gaily by his side and the imperturbable policeman opposite. but he answered the little lieutenant's last sentence with a very sympathetic glance of comprehension. petro appeared presently, and allard gravely repeated a description of the famous rain coat, giving the name of the english firm that had made it. "thank you, sir," said the satisfied officer, snapping shut his note-book. "much obliged. you've no objection if your name gets to the papers, sir?" allard thought of robert. "why, no, none at all. but i have done nothing." "yes, sir. thank you." "and now?" queried vasili. "shall we go back and chat, or first go over the yacht? unless you know it already, of course; i forget you are an old friend of his royal highness." "let us go over the yacht, if you will," allard evaded, not at all certain of what stanief might please to assert. he sighed relievedly, hearing the puff of the launch below. "we can rest afterward." vasili contemplated him reflectively, inwardly deciding that stanief's american must have been very ill indeed to be so easily tired. but he led the way below, charmed with the new companionship, and they wandered together over the costly floating toy. they ended in the general salon, and allard's long-starved eyes went eagerly to the magazines and newspapers littering the table. "pleasant place," assented vasili to the expression, dropping into an easy-chair. "and you will usually find some of us here. of course, count rosal is ashore now with the grand duke, but he will be enchanted to learn that you are going with us. these voyages nearly kill him with ennui. he likes fast horses and fast motorcars, and the théâtre français." "then why does he come?" allard inquired interestedly. "why? there is a question! because he is the grand duke's aide, because he wants to win favor with the man who will rule the country by the time we reach it." "why, the emperor--" vasili raised one eyebrow significantly. "of course, if you do not want to talk," in slightly injured tones. "but every one knows that the emperor is dying." allard summoned his recollections of affairs european, doubtfully allowing for the gap of more than two years. "the grand duke feodor is the emperor's nephew, not his son," he objected. "oh, he will only be regent, certainly," was the dry reply. "never mind; i told you i understood nothing of politics." allard opened his lips to avow equal ignorance, then closed them. he had no idea of the rôle stanief designed for him, or of what he was supposed to know. he moved to the table, instead of answering, and let his gaze devour the topmost paper of the pile. vasili watched him, deeply impressed by the reticence and a little anxious as to his own frankness. when allard again turned to him, the lieutenant welcomed the amity with relief and joyously accepted the suggestion of return to the deck. the morning wore on quietly. the preparations for sailing were completed; the yacht poised restlessly like a snowy bird on the point of flight. allard no less quivered with the restless desire for departure, the thirst for the peace which would come with absolute security. lying in his chair, regarding the teeming river shut in on either side by the two great cities and feeling all alike hostile toward him, he clung almost superstitiously to the phrase of the night before: "a stanief guards his own." and not all content with bare liberty, he treasured the being no longer an outlaw; he had learned the old primitive ache of the "masterless man." near noon a tiny boat darted from shore. the captain hurried to the head of the miniature stairway; vasili uttered a hasty excuse and also went in that direction. allard hesitated, in some doubt before this new etiquette, then judged by the others' attitude and remained where he was. as stanief stepped on the deck, another gorgeous flag rose majestically into place and unfolded its emblazoned notice of his presence. his drowsy black eyes swept over the scene comprehensively, then he gave a brief order to the captain and crossed directly to allard. and allard, rising to receive him, suddenly felt his heart quicken with a strange, familiar violence. "we allards love more than other people," robert had said. this was what he was giving stanief, he realized with something like dismay,--that passion of fierce un-english intensity which considered nothing and made him its plaything. he had not meant to care like that again-- "good morning, john," said the cool, faintly imperious voice; the warmly dark eyes met his. sighing, allard yielded up the last resistance and gave his all. "your royal highness--" he murmured, and hated himself for the unsteadiness of his tone. stanief sank into a chair and waved him to the one opposite. "we are going to sail at once," he announced. "we will watch our progress out of the harbor and then have lunch. you have passed an agreeable morning?" "yes--no," answered allard incoherently, taken by surprise. "that is, everything is right now." interpreting for himself, stanief smiled. "tell me about it," he suggested. the ringing of anchor chains ceased, the little launch again swung in its davits. the yacht shuddered, moved. vasili came up and saluted rigidly. "i have the honor to report that we sail." stanief rested his dark head against the chair-back and met the brilliant gray eyes with the sweet serenity of his own. chapter vi "the king is dead--long live the king" the ennuied count rosal lunched with them,--a sallow, fatigued young patrician who wore a pince-nez. he obviously was much pleased by the american, and inquired anxiously whether he ever motored. receiving an affirmative reply, he invited him, with an actual approach to enthusiasm, to try a new french car as soon as they landed. allard accepted willingly, even gaily; a little of his color had revived with the ocean wind, some fine elixir had mounted through his veins as the yacht drew from the arms of the harbor and danced out over the long atlantic swell. after luncheon stanief dismissed the third member of their party with that nonchalant grace of his. "did you write any letters this morning?" he asked, when the salon had settled into its usual repose. "one; to my brother." "good; every one writes letters--an excellent thing to do. i gave your name to an avid-eyed band of reporters, as one of those sailing with me. you will be a person of some importance in the tangled affairs to which i am taking you; it is just as well to prepare." "i have no desire to be curious," allard began tentatively. "but you naturally would like to know what is happening. indeed, it is necessary that you know." he paused an instant. "do you recall what i said to you last night of my country, of its intrigue and wrong and lack of faith?" "yes." the shadows deepened across the fine dark face. watching stanief, it seemed to allard as if the rose-hued salon lost a little of its brightness also, as if both man and room remembered hours not happy. "all my life i have walked in the shadow of one man's hate," stanief said quietly. "i have known it watching greedily for my least indiscretion, heard its wild-beast breathing as it crouched beside me in the dark, stepped cautiously to avoid the snares it spread for me. unable to touch me openly unless i myself stooped from inherited safety, my enemy has employed every secret artifice to lure me into reach, every petty goad to sting me to a moment's forgetfulness. i never have taken a friend, conscious that one would be forced to betrayal if not already planning it. i learned long ago that the bright-eyed, fragile ladies of the court were not for me to trust. living in the center of a dazzling pageant, the focus of a dazzling hate, i have had just one hope to carry with me. not a pleasant hope, but it is about to be fulfilled. my enemy is dying." "the emperor--" "exactly." allard remained silent, understanding vasili better now. stanief rose and walked to the window, gazing out over the tumbling field of water. when he returned it was with a touch of scarlet burning in his clear cheek. "before i started on this voyage, taken at his command," he said, "i bade farewell to my imperial uncle. ill, grimly and helplessly conscious of the ultimate end, he looked up from his pillows at me. 'your day is coming,' he declared. 'i know how long your regency will last, how completely my son will be left your toy and victim. but i shall wait on the threshold of the next world, feodor stanief, until you come and i see your punishment. now go.' it was the confession of failure, the laying down of the cards, the first frankness between us." the two men looked at each other. "i am probably regent now," stanief added. allard's eyes did not leave the other's; no doubt clouded the unwavering confidence of his regard. "'a stanief guards his own'," he quoted. "if i were the little prince, i should have no fear, monseigneur." stanief lifted his head, the sunlight flashed back to the room before his expression. "thank you," he answered proudly. "and from emperor to peasant i could find no one else to grant me so much." "but--i do not understand." "then you have not read our history." allard turned to the gates of memory, and gazing down dim vistas at many a vague crime and ambitious treachery, remained silent. "my cousin adrian," stanief resumed, after a moment in which he also looked across the past, "by this time perhaps my emperor adrian is fourteen years old. not until he is seventeen can he be crowned and take the government in his own grasp; that is, the country is absolutely ruled by me for the next three years. by me; but those years will be a splendid warfare, a struggle muffled in cloth-of-gold, a ceaseless vigil beside which my old life was peace. the country is divided into two great parties: those who wish me to take the crown, and from whom i must protect adrian; those who wish to rid themselves of me and govern as they choose through the child-emperor. remember that neither faction believes i shall ever permit my cousin to take the empire from me. loyalty, honor, justice,--those are pretty, extinct phrases of chivalry to their minds." allard made a movement of protest. "surely not so bad, surely not nowadays," he objected incredulously. "our country is still medieval," stanief retorted. "i tell you not one-half the fact. but, i make no pose of virtue and perhaps i am merely obstinately resolved not to do what is expected of me, but i _will_ carry this through and crown my cousin on his seventeenth birthday, if i live." his voice hardened into steel, his velvet eyes flashed through their curtaining lashes. allard rose impulsively and held out his hand. "'_soit que soit_,' we said last night," he cried. "let me aid; stand or fall." "a desperate cause," warned stanief, keeping the hand in his firm clasp. "for day and night my enemies will pour their poison into adrian's ears; adrian, whose father must already have taught him distrust and dread of me. it may very well be that when i resign the absolute power to the young emperor, he himself will first use it to crush me." "impossible! and if it be so, at least we shall have fought the good fight." "then open the lists to don quixote and sancho panza. we will live our own way for these three years, and abide the decision." there was no question of etiquette between the two who stood together, with laughter glancing across the surface of an earnestness too deep for speech. allard had no way of divining that the stanief he knew did not exist for any one else; that the reserve of a lifetime was broken in their friendship. they sat down again, presently. "long ago, when adrian was very much younger, i used to see him more intimately," stanief mused rather sadly. "then i never considered a regency, believing the emperor would live until his son could take his place. i was weary even then of the constant strife and suspicion; i longed to make a friend of my small cousin and some day find calm under his rule. but the emperor interfered, and we have seen each other only formally since. now comes your part, john. i shall place you in adrian's suite as his personal attendant. i want you to do what i can not; to guard him from hour to hour, as far as possible, from my self-styled friends and his enemies. he will like you,--you have that gift." "gift?" allard puzzled. "the gift of being liked. and being an american, you will escape much of the jealousy which would attach to one who could demand more. it is absolutely necessary for me to have some one near my cousin whom i can trust implicitly." "i will do anything you wish," he answered simply. "your purpose--let me serve it also. only i will have to ask you to teach me a bit; i am afraid my ideas of the most formal court in europe--" "i shall teach you nothing whatever," stanief declared, with his sudden smile. "let the imperial adrian have that amusement. do not forget what i have implied to those you meet here: that you are merely my secretary as a whim, and are in reality my friend. you understand?" allard did understand,--the elaborate luxury with which he had been surrounded, the deference of even count rosal, the caution of vasili. "i would rather stay with you than be a child's plaything," he said wistfully. "but it is all right." stanief regarded him for an instant, then reached for a cigarette. "you will be with me. but if you have any idea that adrian is like a child, wait," he observed dryly. "and now let us enjoy the voyage, since it is our last quiet period for several years." before allard could reply, an agitated knock fell on the door and marzio admitted the pale and breathless rosal. "well?" stanief questioned, instinctively rising. allard rose with him, and standing they received the message. "i regret to report, by wireless from new york, the death of his imperial majesty the emperor, at noon to-day." a brief hush, then rosal again in nervous conclusion: "his imperial majesty the emperor adrian requests the return of your royal highness to the capital." chapter vii allegiance "check. you are losing your game, my john." allard laughed in frank admission,--a tanned, bright-eyed allard after the long voyage. "i am stupid to-night, monseigneur. it is difficult to sit here and play chess when we are anchored at last before our goal, the city of excitements. one has the feeling that one should go ashore at once." "when one arrives in a port near midnight, one does not arrive officially until next morning. since my first act must be to go direct to the palace, you will comprehend that the hour is unfortunate." "yes. although every one must know." "certainly. the approach of the _nadeja_ was undoubtedly signified to the emperor hours ago. play, play; to-morrow will come without our aid." allard moved a piece at random. "i am not the only one impatient," he defended. "count rosal and vasili spent the evening hanging over the rail toward the lights of the city, and telling me all we would do, from seeing mademoiselle liline dance to trying that new automobile. they went to bed at last from sheer exasperation." "they do not have to stay awake to amuse his royal highness." "oh, i could not sleep, monseigneur. but i play bad chess." stanief shot a glance at him; perhaps he himself could have confessed a similar inability, if he had chosen, in spite of his indolent impassivity. "you assuredly do," he agreed. "checkmate. set up the board again and avenge yourself." the lap of the calm water against the ship's side marked the rising of the tide; the roar and hum of the huge city came strangely after ocean silences. on the river's bank a girl was singing a minor, half-gipsy air which penetrated at intervals, almost as if with timidity, into the rose-and-gold salon. allard gathered his straying thoughts together and compelled his attention to the game. they are changing the watch on deck, he reflected absently; he heard the movement and agitation. for any one to disturb stanief unsummoned was rare; for the door to be opened like this, without permission, was unprecedented. but marzio offered no excuse as he held aside the heavy portière. stanief lifted his eyes languidly, then sprang to his feet with an abruptness that sent the chessmen rattling over the floor. allard, startled, rose also and turned, to draw back mechanically into the shadow and leave host and guest face to face. marzio dropped the curtain, closing the door softly as he went out. the slight, rather frail boy clad in deep mourning was not unlike stanief himself in fine, dark beauty of feature, and there was a composed stateliness worthy of both in the gesture with which he extended his small hand in greeting. stanief moved forward without a word, and, kneeling, bent his head to the slim fingers for which the one great jewel seemed too heavy. still on his knee, in constraint of their difference in height, he received the young emperor's formal embrace. "i am glad you have returned, cousin," the boy said, with a grave dignity of speech corresponding to his bearing. "to-morrow--i wished to see you before then." stanief looked into the eyes on a level with his own, before rising. "i shall hold this visit always in my heart, sire," he answered, his tone infinitely gentle. "i have not been given many such pleasant memories." "it is a long time since we saw each other; you did not come to me--" "that was never my fault, sire." "no," he conceded calmly. "i knew it was not, although they told me so." "i am grateful for so much justice. permit me--" adrian took the arm-chair which the other advanced, and himself indicated a seat very near for his cousin. he had, of course, seen allard on entering, but, accustomed to the constant presence of others, lent no further attention to the gentleman who remained standing at the shadowed end of the salon. on stanief his large, intent eyes were fixed with an imperiously eager scrutiny. "you are the same as always, as you were last winter," he declared slowly. "dalmorov has insisted that i would find you very different, now." "the baron dalmorov is more than kind," stanief replied, betrayed into his unusual frown. "may i ask why i should have changed?" "because you are regent, and you govern all." "i beg pardon, sire; if i am regent, you are none the less emperor." over the young face swept an expression that so altered, so hardened it, that it was as if another and dual self came into view. "then i rule _you_, as my father did," he flashed. allard gasped in his corner; was this the child of fourteen whom he had expected to amuse? and not as to a child was given the difficult answer by the one who knew him. "yes, sire," stanief returned steadily. "but--" "but! you say but?" "may i speak frankly? you will find many people to flatter you, to tell you facile, surface truths; let me for once tell exactly my meaning. assuredly you do rule me and your country, so far as the possibilities permit. yet you are surrounded by those who hate me, and even you, sire, who would joyfully see us both fall if they might mount upon the ruins. many times i may see what is hidden from you, and i must act accordingly. sire, it is my intention to hold this seething empire of yours in my grasp, to force it to bend or break in its stubborn wilfulness, until three years from now i give it back to you a tranquil government. but--and for this i said 'but'--if necessary, i shall act against your will, as against all other forces, until i carry my purpose to its end and have you crowned on your seventeenth birthday." he drew a swift breath, caught by his own vehemence, his eyes never leaving the unchildish ones opposite. "and on the day of your coronation, sire," he concluded, with a touch of sadness, "you will rule without the _but_. call me to account then; i assure you i shall have no friends to protest." allard's own heart quickened at the fire of determination in the other's low voice. if only it had been a man who met that splendid frankness, he mourned furiously, not a child, a sullen child. for adrian did not move at all, or answer the daring declaration. his head averted, he looked down at the floor. stanief waited a little, and the light died out of his face. "you do not understand me, sire," he said, very quietly. "or, understanding, you do not pardon one who serves you even against your will. i am thirty-two years old; it is my comfort to believe that when you reach my age, when jealousy and anger have passed away and perhaps taken me with them, that you will think differently of feodor stanief. will you allow me to order some refreshment brought?" he added. adrian moved then, and the color rushed over his cheeks as he struck one small open palm on the arm of his chair. "i understand you," he cried passionately. "oh, i understand! can i trust you? it is that, feodor. no one speaks his thoughts to me; every one _lies_. the emperor told me that many times before he died. 'do not trust your cousin,' he whispered to me on the last day. 'then i must trust dalmorov?' i asked. 'no,' he said, 'no; better feodor than him. trust no one.' and now you ask it of me." "yet you came here to-night, sire," stanief reminded him. "because i must trust some one. because i know dalmorov and his falseness, while i do not know you, cousin." "then i ask you only to suspend judgment until you do, sire. a regent there must be, i, or another if i die--" "i would rather have you than any one else in the world." "there is no one--i speak knowing our court--no one else whose pride and honor so compel him to loyalty. and i stand in grievous need of your protection, my imperial cousin." adrian's head lifted haughtily. "of my protection! you, now?" "i, now. through you, if you lend your name to their use, my enemies can make the task i have set myself difficult beyond description." the kindling fire had caught, at last; with the first boyish impulsiveness of the interview adrian's response flashed to meet the appeal. "you need not fear that! you need not fear me." "thank you, sire," stanief answered, simply and gravely. there was a pause. allard wondered, as he discreetly observed the two, just what would have been the result if stanief had brought less convincing seriousness to answer his cousin's sensitive pride and incredulity. "i have come alone," adrian mused, with a half-sigh, "with gregor. he does what i wish because he knows dalmorov hates him and he is afraid to stand alone. so when i bade him bring me here secretly to-night, after i had presumably retired, he obeyed. i like to be obeyed." the expression of several moments before returned transiently. a playfully earnest warning of the other cousin's recurred to the listener; it appeared that both had "the habit of domination." "and so i must return at once, or they may discover i have gone. but i am glad i came, cousin; it seems easier now." "sire," stanief said, and somehow his tone made allard feel suddenly abashed, as one who stands before a thing not for his eyes, "there will come a day when you will stand in the great cathedral to receive the oaths of allegiance of your nobles. there will be all ceremony, all solemnity, but--take mine now. the one i shall give you then can mean no more. you have been taught to have no faith in such promises; when you receive mine for the second time, i hope it will have gained some value in your sight." "i wish it had now; i almost think it has," he answered, with a bitterness and energy singularly strange from his boyish lips. "i want to have faith in you, cousin." he rose, and stanief with him. "i care for nothing," he added, reverting to the previous invitation. "i have already stayed too long. monsieur," his eyes went to allard for the first time, "monsieur is the american gentleman who sailed with you from new york?" allard came forward in response to a glance from stanief. "sire, i have the honor to present monsieur john allard, whom i have persuaded to come with me because i also have need of one friend whom i can trust." he was after all so pathetic in his lonely and sophisticated youth, this child. saluting him, allard's clear gray eyes involuntarily expressed all their sympathy and warm kindliness. and, meeting the regard, adrian gave him his only smile of the evening. "it is easy to trust you others, monsieur allard," he said wistfully. "i wish you were my friend instead of feodor's." "is it not the same thing, sire?" allard questioned. "is it?" "i sincerely believe so, sire." "bring monsieur allard with you to-morrow, cousin," adrian directed, lifting his gaze to stanief. "and good night." "you will allow me to accompany your return, sire?" "certainly not,--to attract all the capital!" "pardon, i meant as secretly as gregor attends you; who--again pardon me--is scarcely attendance enough." adrian shook his head decisively. "your people on the yacht--" "they are not already aware that your imperial majesty is here?" "you can order them to be silent," he retorted, with angry irritation. "exactly, sire," said stanief, and waited. adrian was nothing if not swift of thought; he drew the inference intended and conceded the point. "very well," he yielded. "as you will, cousin. good night, monsieur allard." he held out his hand, and quite unconsciously allard took the little fingers in his warm clasp. stanief, holding aside the curtain, smiled to himself; but adrian accepted the americanism equably and his last glance was all friendly. it was three o'clock in the morning when stanief reëntered the _nadeja's_ salon. allard was still there, and rose expectantly to receive him. "i waited," he explained. "you need not have," stanief replied, with all his usual cool serenity. "go and rest; to-morrow the battle opens. only--" "only, monseigneur?" he came over to the table to find the tiny gold-tipped cigarettes. "only it was not with you i played chess to-night, john, but with dalmorov and the late emperor, my uncle. and i claim check." chapter viii to meet the emperor there are some periods which offer to the backward glance of memory rather a blur of blended color than a distinct picture, a rich and shining tapestry in which no one thread can be distinguished. so always to allard seemed that first week in the country he learned to call home. the stately ceremonies of stanief's reception and assumption of the regency; the dazzle and pageantry of the court even when thus subdued by mourning; his own sudden importance as the favorite of the actual sovereign, all merged into a glittering confusion through which he moved automatically. but there were two incidents which detached themselves from the bright background and always remained with him. the first was the first morning when stanief formally met the emperor at the palace; and, as he had stooped to the salute, adrian had deliberately given him an embrace so markedly affectionate that even allard felt the significant thrill that ran through the room. and then, even while the unusual color still flushed stanief's dark cheek, adrian shot a glance at a sharp-faced man opposite, a glance so sneering, so bitterly triumphant, that the straightforward american actually shrank from the revelation of dual thought. evidently the embrace was given less to please stanief than to annoy this other. seeing the man's rigidly held face beneath the ordeal, he knew without question that this was the baron dalmorov whose desire in life was to prevent this very friendship between the cousins. never again did allard make the mistake of measuring adrian by his few years. the second event was near the end of the week,--one noon when stanief came home from a visit to the palace and found allard alone. "do you remember the trust you offered to take for me?" he asked abruptly. and, without waiting an assent, "you are summoned to it already." "monseigneur?" "the emperor this morning asked me to add you to his household. it is more than i hoped to gain, that he should himself make the request; yet--" they looked at each other, allard startled and half dismayed, stanief's velvet eyes less tranquil than usual. "yet i shall miss you, john," he concluded, his voice a caress. the regret and the tone lay unforgotten in the closed room of allard's heart. years after, he could turn and find them there. so from the gorgeous household of the regent one man passed to the still more gorgeous palace. vasili and count rosal regarded him with respectful envy; he was elected to membership of the two clubs of the capital's _jeunesse dorée_, and overwhelmed with friends and invitations. but the emperor was not at all inclined to let his new companion remain away from him very much, and allard was quite as willing to stay at what he privately considered the post of duty. so it happened that he went riding with adrian more frequently than he went motoring with rosal, and accepted readily a routine which left him few hours unoccupied. it was not possible to live at the palace without learning many things. but it required just one day for allard to learn enough of adrian to make him smile at ever having thought stanief imperious. the desire for absolute dominion and power over those near him was the most obvious characteristic of this descendant of a hundred autocrats. moreover, he tolerated no contradiction, no evasion of a resolve. "you are not rich in your own right, monsieur allard?" he said one day, with his mature directness and self-possession. they were strolling up and down a terrace overlooking the river, and allard involuntarily paused in surprise and with no slight embarrassment. "no longer, sire," he admitted, truth coming as the one course. "my cousin,--you served him as his secretary?" "yes, sire." adrian sat down on a broad marble seat under the trees, lifting his head with the movement usually to be translated as a signal of danger. "you serve me at present, not the regent. as one of my household, you will accept from me in future." "pardon me, sire--" "i will have it so, monsieur. you must be all mine, all. i shall speak to feodor. why do you object? you do, then, consider yourself his, not mine?" "sire, you misinterpret; i am assuredly of your service." "then you accept?" allard met the flashing gaze helplessly; it was the other adrian, distrustful, jealous, haughty, whom he faced and to whom he yielded. "it is as you wish, sire, of course. i thank you." "you do not," he retorted shrewdly, although his brow relaxed. "why did you resist?" again allard took refuge in the simple truth, a little sadly. "we americans, sire, are not accustomed to serve, i am afraid. we would stand alone. if i could accept the grand duke feodor's protection without such reluctance, it was because of old reasons and old love." "for him?" "yes, sire." "do you know dalmorov secretly urges to me your love for feodor as a cause for dismissing you?" "i had not known it, although i might have guessed. but you could not believe me, sire, if i told you i did not love him." "no; you are very easy to read. and i know more: i know that feodor is glad to have you near me, although he is fond of keeping you with himself. why?" allard regarded his keen young inquisitor candidly. "because--i use his own phrase, sire--because i am the only one that he feels he can wholly trust." adrian's eyes opened, then he laughed outright and the sinister personality faded altogether from his expression. "you tell me that yourself, monsieur allard? oh, if dalmorov could hear you! never mind; perhaps feodor is deceiving you, perhaps you are both sincere, but certainly you yourself are all truthful. his turn also comes to-day, my cousin's." "i do not understand--" "it is not necessary. i am going to receive him here, this morning. after he arrives, pray stay at the other end of the terrace and let no one pass to disturb us." this daily visit of the regent had become a matter of course. sometimes it found adrian surrounded by many people, sometimes alone, more often with allard, as now. and never was he so sweetly gracious to stanief as in dalmorov's presence; although, as stanief knew perfectly well, at other times he listened without rebuke to the baron's constant insinuations and warnings. if the young emperor had confidence in no one, most assuredly no one could risk a judgment of his real thoughts. only one sentiment he took no care to conceal: for whatever reason, he liked the regular visit and would suffer nothing to prevent it. however puzzled by the last suggestion, allard could only comply with the request and retire as stanief came down the steps a moment later. and stanief, seeing adrian waiting alone, left his aide at the head of the terrace and alone came to him. so, vasili at one end of the grassy ledge, allard at the other, the cousins were for once unobserved. adrian's expression was unusually animated as stanief bent over his hand. "do you know why i wished to see you out here in quietness, cousin?" he demanded. "i am afraid not, sire," stanief confessed, smiling. "then sit down here," he touched the bench on which he himself was seated, "and i will tell you." stanief obeyed, and adrian surveyed his stately kinsman with earnest, though doubting intentness. "that night on the _nadeja_," he at last said, "when you told me that i governed, 'but'--were you in earnest? it amused me to tell dalmorov--not all you said or when you said it, of course--yet some of that. i told him you had promised to do as i wished, and he insisted that you played with me. were you in earnest, i wonder?" "absolutely in earnest," stanief answered, too well trained in self-mastery to betray his irritation at being discussed with his rival in the game of the future. "'but'--" adrian repeated, and sat silent for an instant. "were you ever in love with a woman, cousin?" the question was so unexpected that stanief started and replied almost at random: "no, sire." "dalmorov says that you were, long ago." "dalmorov," the other began, then checked himself, his tone chilling. "the incident to which baron dalmorov doubtless refers, sire, hardly answers your question. ten years ago, when i was less than twenty-two, i was briefly attracted toward a lady of the court. the affair died in its birth, on my discovering that mademoiselle was acting as the paid spy of the emperor, your father. since then i have thought of more important matters." adrian leaned back, his slim fingers twisted together. "that was the countess sophia mirkoff," he supplemented calmly, "whose husband you pardoned from the two saints last month; dalmorov informed me. was that because you still care?" "no; because i would not have her imagine i remember enough for prejudice," stanief answered, with glacial indifference. the approving fire shot across the boy's lowered eyes, his pride sprang to comprehension of the other's. "i am glad it is so," he said sedately. "i have been arranging your marriage, cousin." if the terrace had crumbled beneath them, stanief could have been no more astounded than at this. "i beg your pardon!" he gasped. "why not? it is my privilege," adrian returned, not moving. stanief opened his lips, and closed them again. the green and gold garden, the blue river and white city spread below, swam in a dazzle of color. he had never been more deeply annoyed, or more furiously angry with dalmorov. but habitual self-control again aided him. "i have no desire to marry, or time to give to such a distraction at present, sire," he answered. "you would have to marry sooner or later, cousin." "then permit it to be later. after your coronation, if you still insist." adrian's small mouth set in a firm line rivaling the regent's own. "i wish it now. i have arranged that you shall marry the princess iría of spain." "sire, forgive me if i presume to remind your imperial majesty that i have the right of questioning an order so personal." the steel-hard anger of stanief's voice struck fire from the flint of adrian's determination. "so i rule you!" he flashed tempestuously. "so you meant your pretty phrases! dalmorov was right, right. you played with me, and i will never pardon you, feodor stanief." stanief drew back, realizing all the trap prepared for him. "you are severe, sire," he retorted with dignity. "perhaps reflection upon how unexpected this is, upon how serious to me is the amusement which to you signifies nothing, may win your indulgence. my life is full to overflowing; there is no place in it for a wife." "you refuse?" stanief bit his lip. "no, sire; i protest." adrian stood up, and the other perforce rose with him. "you yourself said it," the boy stated, his chest heaving with passion. "now, the test. i have the right; you know it. do you govern me, or i you?" "sire--" "you or i?" stanief looked very steadily into the blazing young eyes, himself colorless with the restraint forced upon his own emotions. "i believed there were two promises given on the _nadeja_, sire," he answered, never so quietly. "it seems that only one is to be remembered and that baron dalmorov wins. but i make no complaint; i suppose your last question was hardly serious." "you consent?" "i obey," he corrected pointedly. at once victorious, and dominated by his kinsman's bearing, adrian flung himself on the seat and motioned the other to the place beside him. but stanief remained standing, choosing not to see the invitation, and there was a pause. "i do remember my promise," adrian declared, proudly reverting to the reproach of a few moments before. "if i have made you do this, cousin, it was not to please dalmorov." stanief bowed, answering nothing. "the lady--you will have heard of her. i met her last year on the riviera. in her country they call her the gentle princess, because--she is. and she is very lovely." still the dark face was unstirred. his object gained, adrian fretted and chafed before the change he himself had wrought. "you are like monsieur allard; you do not want to yield your will," he said, half petulantly, half haughtily. "he is mine, you gave him to me; yet he did not like it because i said that no longer shall his fortune come from any one but me. why?" "he is an american, sire." "why does that make a difference between you and me?" "i love him, sire." the cold explanation coincided perfectly with allard's; illogically adrian felt a pang of isolation before this friendship, although he would not have believed either if they had professed the same affection for him. "the churches are ringing the hour," he remarked, the sullen child struggling with the emperor. "if you wish to go, as usual, you have my leave." "thank you, sire; my hours are indeed crowded." "you are willing to ask the princess iría in marriage?" "as you dispose, sire." satisfied and dissatisfied, adrian held out his hand. "you are not content, cousin," he accused. "you think me unkind." stanief paused to meet the wilful gaze. "perhaps i think of a day the years are bringing, sire," he replied gravely, and bent his head still lower to the jeweled fingers which grasped so much. adrian flushed scarlet. "no," he denied fiercely. "feodor, you can not believe i will fail you if you do not me? you can not think that then, after that--" stanief did not help him at all. taking refuge in wordlessness, adrian left the sentence unfinished and let his cousin go, with an assumption of dignity that hardly concealed the sting of the rebuke he had received. but he did not offer to relinquish the purpose so distasteful to stanief. for half an hour the terrace remained hushed and silent under the noon sunshine, the tree-shadows wavering back and forth across the small, motionless figure. "monsieur allard!" at last the summons rang. allard returned serenely, of course ignorant of the recent stormy discussion. "in a few months," adrian stated, without looking at him, "the princess iría de bourbon will come here to be married to the regent. i wish you to be one of the escort that will meet her and bring her to the capital." "but, sire--" "you are surprised?" "i did not know the grand duke contemplated marriage, sire," allard explained, stunned. "he did not; it is i who contemplated it. you will go?" "surely there will be many more fitted for such an honor. of course it will be as you arrange, sire; but i would rather stay here." adrian moved, sighing; his lip took a softer curve and for the first time he almost looked his few years. "if you like her, monsieur, feodor will like her. i want you to see her, to tell him good of her. she is different from any one else--when we were both in italy we saw each other every day, and i know. she is so gentle; i want her here." allard gazed at him in utter wonder. "feodor believes i force the marriage to annoy him and please dalmorov. it is not so; it is because i want iría here. you understand that?" "i am trying, sire." adrian stood up decisively. "let us go in. when the time comes, you shall go with her escort." chapter ix guinevere of the south it was quite a month after that sunny noon on the emperor's terrace, that maria luisa iría de bourbon was informed of her betrothal to the grand duke feodor stanief. she also received the announcement on a garden terrace, by a caprice of chance; but it was a terrace of the south, starred and flowered all over with violets, heavily-sweet tuberoses and blue florentine irises. moreover, it was sunset, and she stood a slender white figure against the rosy sky. "it is all decided?" she asked in a hushed, pathetic little voice, a voice shattered into crystalline fragments, like the dash of a clear brook against a rock. "it is sure to happen, señora?" "quite sure," answered her mother, with a firmness not unsuggestive of adrian. the princess made a move forward, then swayed like one of her wind-blown irises and slipped down to the old moss-green steps. when in her own room they revived her, she turned to hide her face among the pillows. "i am afraid," she whispered under her breath. "i am afraid." that was all. she had been taught obedience in a convent, and the duquesa her mother was not to be resisted. one does not stop the mills of the gods by laying a flower across their wheels. but if stanief seized every delay of diplomacy and ceremony in his northern court, he was unconsciously aided by every feminine subterfuge from the gentle princess in her sun-kissed home. the elaborate trousseau required weeks to prepare, the autumn storms made the voyage by sea unpleasant, and the journey by land was too fatiguing and informal. between one and another, it was six months after the announcement before the escort ship anchored in the cobalt-blue bay which makes a dimple in the curving cheek of southern spain. and then iría met some of her new countrymen. not easy were their names and titles to her lisping latin tongue, as she greeted the guests graciously and gracefully, her mother by her side. but as one gentleman was presented, she leaned forward with delicate surprise. "monsieur john allard," she echoed, her large golden-brown eyes on his face. "monsieur is not then of my future country?" "madame, i am an american," he explained, almost with the tenderness one involuntarily shows a child. it seemed to him that he had never seen anything more appealing than her young dignity and pathetic beauty of expression. iría regarded him earnestly. his right arm hung in a scarf, but he bore the injury with a bright unconcern that suggested it rather a badge of honor than an embarrassment. although so simply announced, his companions waited for him to pass on with deferential patience and lack of surprise at her interest. very suddenly the young girl flushed, her golden-brown head drooping on its white stem. "i am most glad to have met monsieur," she murmured confusedly. after that the preparations for the departure went on more rapidly. contrary to all expectations, the princess was not too weary to sail next day and embarked with her mother and their ladies without too obvious regret. the chief of the escort, the venerable admiral count donoseff, was charmed and flattered by the interest shown in his staff by their future mistress. the first lady of the empire iría would be, until adrian's distant marriage; her friendship might be valuable. "monsieur allard has then injured his arm?" she remarked, on the third day of the voyage. "madame, in an act of devotion most remarkable," the admiral replied. "imagine that a week before we sailed, an insane student made an attack upon the emperor. his imperial majesty was driving, with monsieur allard seated opposite, when the criminal leaped on the step of the carriage and attempted to plunge a knife into the emperor's heart. monsieur allard flung himself forward and caught the blow on his own arm, undoubtedly saving the emperor's life at the expense of a dangerous wound to himself. drenched with blood, he held the assassin's wrist until aid arrived." iría shuddered, yet listened thirstily. "i heard--a little of this," she said breathlessly. "but i thought it was his royal highness the regent who was hurt." the admiral blushed at his own forgetfulness; a courtier should never forget. "certainly; he also, madame," he hastened to assure. "he was beside the emperor and so at a disadvantage, but he sprang to aid monsieur allard in holding the man and received a slight wound in disarming him. all europe rang with the story, and monsieur allard was decorated with the grand star of the order of st. rurik. the justice of the regent is swift; the criminal was tried and executed the next day." iría glanced down the deck to where allard chatted with two young nobles of the court, the sun striking across his bright hair and laughing face. "the regent," she began shyly, then relapsed into silence with her ready change of color. but a little later she caught allard's eye and summoned him by a scarcely perceptible movement of her hand. he came with pleasure and saluted her with that direct friendliness of regard which had carried him safely past many a shoal and undercurrent during his continental life. "the count donoseff has been telling me the history of your wounded arm, monsieur," she said. "let me add my poor admiration to all you receive, realizing that you saved the emperor, soon to be my sovereign also." "you are too gracious, madame," allard protested lightly. gaiety came very easily to him since that day when he had saved adrian's life and stanief's honor. it seemed to him that john allard had not only paid; he had re-earned the right to existence, justified his liberty. "if all the world knows of it--" "oh, pardon; i only meant to say that the grand duke was present and did as much as i." something in the words brought her soft smile. "is not the grand duke usually where you are, monsieur?" she queried. "i am with him whenever he and my service of the emperor permit, madame." "only then?" she doubted. surprised, he shrugged his shoulders laughingly. "some one has been telling tales of me, princess. i confess i am with him more than is strictly warranted." "i have heard so much of his coldness, his severity," she ventured, her lashes sweeping her round young cheeks. "he, he cares for nothing, no one, they say." "oh, no, madame," allard denied, warmly enlisted in the defense. "that is most unjust. consider only those from whom such reports come; there is no one living who has more undeserved enemies. i know him capable of love; i have seen it, felt it, lived it. and he works, madame; how he works! the country under his rule gains new life, new hope. madame, if i might presume, i would implore you to believe nothing of him except what he himself will show you." she crimsoned before his fervor, but her delicate face expressed no anger at the daring. "i will not," she assented, still with that strange timidity. "i was frightened at first, but not now, not any more. the regent is fair, with gray eyes, is he not, monsieur?" "no, madame; he is very dark," he assured her hastily, his thoughts on stanief's much-loved face. iría smiled, bending her head still lower. "he is perhaps--fanciful, monsieur? he might do something quite useless and romantic, just for a caprice?" "hardly, madame. i think he does nothing without a purpose. he--i believe he has not been very happy, princess." "and, is he now?" she asked faintly. allard recalled himself to gallantry with charming grace. "madame, he should be happier than any one living." "thank you, monsieur," she breathed, and let him retire presently, her bosom heaving under its white linen and lace. it was a very pale and listless girl who had first met stanief's envoys, but as the voyage proceeded she grew each day more rose-tinted, more daintily radiant and content. one would have said the salt winds blew across some elysian garden, some fountain of ponce de leon, and brought health with their touch. she had a little way of suddenly blushing and smiling, as if at some delightful secret of her own not to be carelessly spoken. on the last day at sea she chose allard's arm for her daily promenade up and down the deck. this honor was eagerly desired by the gentlemen, old and young alike, but she had hitherto shown a decided preference for the veteran admiral; or one of her ladies, if the sea were sufficiently calm. allard no longer wore the scarf, but she had paused before him demurely. "your arm is better, monsieur?" "madame, it is quite well." "then, if you do not fear to injure it--" and with that they were pacing dignifiedly down the shining deck, under a score of envious eyes. "to-morrow we arrive, monsieur." "in a happy hour for our country and the grand duke feodor, madame." "he thinks so?" "princess, can you doubt it?" evaded allard, who himself had many doubts, remembering stanief's grim sarcasms on the subject of being given the care of a twenty-year-old girl when his life was already one of crowded tasks and serious peril. some trouble in his manner communicated itself to the small hand fluttering on his sleeve. "i do not want to doubt," she said. "i do not. monsieur, in that old english legend--have you ever thought how wise king arthur would have been, if instead of sending lancelot to lady guinevere in his place, he had himself gone to meet her in lancelot's guise?" "why, i never did think," allard acknowledged merrily. "but certainly he would have been much wiser, madame." he regarded her in bright question which drew the answer of her flush. "do not modern king arthurs ever choose the wiser course?" she faltered. "perhaps they are too busy and hampered, madame, as the ancient king may have been also. since i have lived at a court i have altered my ideas on such subjects. i never saw any one who worked so hard as the regent. he has set himself a splendid task, and splendidly he carries it on." iría's expression clouded slightly; the glance she stole at her companion was puzzled and full of dawning terror. "yet he might leave it a little while, monsieur." "madame, to leave it for one day might topple down the careful building of months. moreover, he holds the city always under his grasp, fearing danger to the emperor." her left hand went to her heart. "monsieur, we arrive to-morrow; it would not be kind to play with me." allard met her pleading eyes with candid amazement. "princess, what have i said? _i_ venture to play with your royal highness!" "then the grand duke is waiting over there?" she flung out her hand toward the north, lifting her small white face to him, the golden-brown curls tossing in the breeze. even then he had no conception of her mistake. "surely, madame; where else?" he wondered. the gentle princess made no exclamation, no reproach. only her head drooped again, and shivering she drew the veil about her face. "i am tired, monsieur," she gasped. "will you take me back?" "madame, most unintentionally i have offended you. let me beg forgiveness and ask how." "no, no; no one has done wrong. i myself was--absurd. i am not angry, monsieur; only tired." they walked back, allard completely bewildered and uncomprehending. by her chair iría paused and gave him her hand with a smile whose sweetness was beyond tears. "thank you, monsieur allard," she said. "perhaps we shall still be friends over there. you are going home, but i go a stranger to a strange place; i meant no more than that." she was like theodora, allard thought, deeply moved. surely stanief would be gentle with her gentleness. the next morning they landed. chapter x a stanief's own it was a pity that, amidst all the gorgeous ceremony and confusion of welcome, iría did not see the warm affection of stanief's greeting to allard. perhaps she would have been less hopelessly afraid when the little emperor took her hand and presented to her the tall, superb noble whose dark face, finely emotionless, resembled a cameo. whose velvet eyes she dared not seek behind their curtaining lashes. yet stanief was faultlessly courteous, even kind in his grave manner. it might have been merely that he was so different from her fancies of the last weeks. the wedding was to take place in two days; two days of festivities, of marvelously decorated streets, of wonderful balls by night. iría did exactly as she was told; yielded dazedly to adrian's caresses and accepted the regent's lavish gifts. like a beautiful toy she allowed her ladies to dress her half a dozen times a day, and listened submissively to her mother's advice. but the afternoon before her wedding-day, she saw stanief alone for the first time. after all, it was not really alone. the emperor had been chatting with her on the great glass-enclosed balcony, and as stanief came toward them, he rose with a significant smile and went back to the reception-hall. still, from that crowded reception-hall they were only separated by arching, open arcades; only slightly screened by towering palms and flowers in huge vases. stanief took the chair beside his fiancée and looked at her; this was the first moment when he could do so without feeling himself watched by all curious eyes. he had read perfectly the terror under her mute passivity, the shrinking of her tiny frost-cold hand from his touch, and he pitied her with all his heart. now, in the lustrous rose-pink gown against which her transparent skin showed without a tinge of color, her bronze-bright head averted, her mouth curved in childish pathos, she inspired him with an anger against adrian which he had never felt for himself. "princess," he said gently, "we have seen so little of each other until now, nor shall we again until after to-morrow. may i say something which has been in my thoughts since we met yesterday?" "as you will, monseigneur," she murmured. "i think it is as you will," stanief corrected, smiling in spite of himself. "but i accept the permission. will you forgive me if i have imagined that you feared me, princess?" iría raised her topaz eyes to his in complete dismay. "monseigneur, you are angry--" the sentence broke; those firm, steadily tranquil eyes of his caught and held hers. "angry? why? but i am sorry, deeply sorry, for the net of policy which has enmeshed us both and left me no power of freeing you. and i would do all possible, princess, to make this less hard for you. there is no need to be afraid of me in any way. i do not know what they have told you of me; if i govern the empire severely, it is that order may come from chaos, no more. of what else i may be accused--" "monseigneur!" he smiled again at her tone, rather sadly. "oh, i know my enemies. but such things have no place between you and me. john allard was of your suite; perhaps he could have told you that i am not all harshness." she snatched her gaze from his and blushed as he had never seen a woman blush before, the heavy crimson staining her very forehead. "he did tell me--that, monseigneur." "then i would ask you to trust me, princess. to-morrow you will come to my house; there will be no other change in your life which you do not wish. i am not a reigning sovereign, there is no reason why you should not keep with you the ladies of your own country whom you prefer. if you desire, i will have the emperor ask your mother to remain with you for a few months." iría shook her head. her mother's constant surveillance threatened even the peace stanief offered, and prohibited rest. "you are good to me, monseigneur," she faltered. "i will stay with you, please." he understood, knowing the lady in question. "thank you," he answered, and after a moment, "a stanief guards his own; so much, at least, our race has of loyalty. and to guard you all i can, that is all i claim. there are enough more serious troubles, princess, without adding the artificial one of fear. if there is sorrow to you in this marriage, it is beyond my cure; but rest quietly in my guardianship." the shadow of a sob crossed iría's sensitive face; she looked up at him bravely and gratefully. "you are good," she said hurriedly. "i never hoped you would be like this to me, monseigneur. no one ever thought of me so carefully before, never. but it is right to tell you, _because_ you are so good. i know that you did not wish this marriage, either, we are alike so. baron dalmorov informed me this morning." "i am infinitely indebted to baron dalmorov," observed stanief, his dark brows contracting in an expression that might have terrified into flight iría's new-found confidence, if she had not been absorbed in her confession. "i was not hurt, monseigneur; it made it easier to know. and now i can tell you; i, i hate secrets. there was some one--oh, some one quite impossible and who does not care for me at all. he does not dream i ever thought, like that. but i fancied he was some one else--i misunderstood. it was not his fault in any way. i had to tell you, monseigneur; it seemed to me right to do so." stanief leaned forward and laid his hand over the cold hands folded in her lap. he had never before believed that a woman could be frank, never imaged one who "hated secrets." it was as if he stood on the threshold of a room all perfume and whiteness; and not the most accomplished coquette could have devised a means of moving him so profoundly. "all my life i shall remember that you gave me your confidence, iría," he answered, with exquisite delicacy and respect. "so far i am happier than you; i love no one. have no doubt, no dread of anything i can save you. some good may come of all this, how can we tell? and at least there is no need of making it worse by not understanding. you will not shrink so much from to-morrow, now?" she met his eyes, helpless as a child in the great reaction; his warm clasp seemed to melt the chill despair of the last days, a little color came back to her cheek and something flashed rainbow-like upon her lashes. "not now," she sighed quiveringly. "thank you, monseigneur." stanief raised her hand to his lips, and presently they went back to the duquesa. after which he went in search of adrian. the emperor was talking to allard when his cousin came up to the alcove where they were ensconced, and he sat motionless with astonishment at sight of stanief's steel-hard glance and compressed lips. "cousin?" he exclaimed, daunted in spite of himself. allard had risen at the approach, but stanief did not regard him and adrian gave no permission to retire. "sire," stanief said, in the markedly quiet tone that came with his rare anger, "it is frequently your imperial majesty's pleasure to submit me and my affairs to the discussion or criticism of baron dalmorov. i have made no complaint, i make none now, but there is a limit to such endurance. the lady who is to be my wife--" allard moved involuntarily; adrian raised his hand in swift protest. "cousin, i assure you--" stanief saluted him formally. "sire, i have just learned that baron dalmorov has had the tact to inform the princess iría that i was marrying her under compulsion and against my will. this insult to madame, this falsehood--" "cousin!" "this falsehood, sire--since, having met the princess, it is my earnest desire to have the honor of her hand--this is too much. baron dalmorov is your attendant; i request your justice. if it is refused--" "well, cousin?" adrian asked mechanically, rather in stupor than challenge at stanief's words. stanief's usually veiled glance glinted clear and ice-cold. "sire, dalmorov shall account to me now; and i to you later." allard, familiar with both, bit his lip in an agony of anxiety. for an instant adrian wavered, then his eyes fell, beaten down by those of his kinsman. "whatever you wish," he conceded, docilely as iría could have spoken. "he had no right, no excuse from me. go bid dalmorov come here, allard." the surrender was complete. relieved and surprised, allard obeyed, hazarding a guess that the emperor's own fondness for iría had influenced the answer. but adrian had not lived ten months with his regent without learning more than a childish love of command. he looked up again at the stately figure that towered over him, glittering in the semibarbaric magnificence of dress demanded by etiquette. "come by me, feodor," he urged, with a gesture of invitation to the chair at his side. "thank you, sire," without moving. adrian surveyed him, then stooped to the first apology of his life, however imperiously spoken. "i never told any one at all of your unwillingness to marry iría, feodor. if it is known, it is because you yourself seized every possible delay. come here; i do not wish dalmorov to find you standing there." stanief complied, and adrian laid a hand on his sleeve. "then you love iría, after all?" he asked, with hesitating curiosity. "love? in twenty-four hours? hardly, sire; but i guard my own." the young emperor lifted his head no less proudly. "and so do i, cousin. dalmorov shall satisfy you." half an hour after iría had returned to the suite appointed to her and her mother, she received a visit from baron dalmorov--a very different dalmorov from the malicious, self-confident gentleman of the morning, and who offered her so abject an apology for his mistaken and untrue statement regarding the grand duke's attitude, that the gentle princess was quite distressed. she sent him away reassured and apparently grateful, then fell to connecting events. recollecting stanief's expression during her naïve account and the carriage of his head as he had crossed the reception-hall to adrian, she had no difficulty in divining the reason for dalmorov's sudden contrition. but stanief's strength no longer chilled her with terror; instead she stood with relief behind its shelter. there was a ball at the palace that night. stanief never danced, but every one else did, and the emperor opened the evening with the princess. it was obvious to all why stanief had been forced to this marriage, whenever adrian was seen with iría; the boy so evidently liked, indeed, loved her. and the fifteen-year-old autocrat was always popularly supposed to be without affection. near the end of the evening stanief came across allard, who was leaning against a flower-wreathed pillar and watching the dancers with grave, unseeing eyes. the other man studied him for a minute, then laid a hand on his shoulder. "john, i have scarcely seen you to-night. you look troubled." allard started and turned, his face brightening warmly. "i am not dancing to-night, monseigneur," he explained. "that is all." "why not?" the gray eyes fell. "i was--a bit out of sorts, perhaps." stanief stood silent, his own expression becoming very somber. allard waited quietly; he indeed bore the stamp of fatigue in his pallor and the dark circles beneath his eyes. "it is a tangled skein, this life of ours," stanief said at last, "and not wholly of our spinning. you are with the emperor to-night?" "every night now, monseigneur." "then i may not see you until morning. good night, john." allard smiled with the cordial brilliancy that always sprang in response to his name on stanief's lips. "good night, monseigneur," he answered lovingly. the next morning, with all elaborate ceremony, the marriage took place. it was remarked that when the princess stood up, in as much snowy satin, old lace and pearl as could be crowded upon one small feminine figure, opposite stanief in the vast cathedral, her wide eyes never left his face, and she seemed to find support in his composure. and when they came down the aisle together, her little white-gloved fingers clung to the white sleeve of his uniform as if there alone she touched some reality in the bewildering panorama. "did you ever see the frail edelweiss growing on a ledge of some ice-fringed granite cliff?" whispered the volatile vasili in allard's ear. "look, pray, at our grand duchess." "the edelweiss is safe, at least," allard replied soberly. "perhaps safer than the cliff." chapter xi in the regent's study stanief was writing, writing steadily, placidly, his pen rustling faintly as it slipped across the paper. the ruddy glow of the open fire was tangled and reflected among the many-faceted knickknacks that littered the desk, caught and tossed back from a dozen shining surfaces, and mockingly echoed by deep-tinted walls and draperies. most ruddily, most vividly, the light seemed to gather around the writer, as if its quivering pink radiance were a warning or a shield. it was like another presence in the room, that fire, to the man behind the curtain. he watched it also as he crept stealthily forward, clutching more tightly the object in his hand. a man of the people, shabby, gaunt, unkempt, he stole out into the regent's study, stepping cautiously on the gleaming floor or on the treacherously soft rugs which slipped beneath his unaccustomed feet. from the velvet hangings he gained the shelter of a tall vernis-martin cabinet and crouched in the shadow, shaking from head to foot with nervous tremors. stanief worked on undisturbed; once he paused to choose another pen, and the intruder cowered to the floor in abject fear. but the writing was resumed without alarm. after a few moments the man again moved forward, this time on his hands and knees, until he reached the end of a high-sided leather couch. there he halted again. coming here with a purpose so bold, the habit of a lifetime yet prompted him to hold his soiled garments away from the gilded and perfumed upholstery with a vague sense of apology. there never was a clock that ticked so loudly, so insistently as the timepiece above the hearth, a clock that set its beats so exactly to the beat of a man's hurrying pulse. once the man on the floor touched his chest curiously, as if to be quite certain whether it was his heart, or indeed the swaying pendulum which sounded through the quiet place. reassured, he moved on. the glowing firelight wavered giddily across stanief's bent head, seeking in vain for a hint of brown in the fine black hair, which had a slight ripple and a tendency to lie in tiny curls where it touched the neck. the man noted this dully. if one struck there? or lower, between the broad shoulders-- stanief leaned back and selected a cigarette from the tray on the writing-table. his drowsy lashes fell meditatively as he reached for a match, a half-smile curved his lips. the man by the chair darted forward and struck once, from behind. the knife crashed ringing to the floor as stanief's quicker movement met his assailant's. the man cried out sharply as the strong white hands closed on his wrists and the superior strength forced him to his knees beside the desk. "clumsily attempted," commented the level voice. "have you any more weapons, _mon ami_?" "excellency, royal highness, pardon--i have no french." stanief shrugged his shoulders and lapsed into the language of the country. "i asked you if you had other weapons, but it does not matter." he deliberately transferred both captive wrists to the grasp of his right hand and with his left opened a drawer of the desk. the man made no effort to free himself. generations of serfdom had reasserted themselves; he might have killed from behind, but before the patrician's glance and voice resistance did not even occur to him. he submitted passively when stanief produced a pair of handcuffs and snapped them in place. "stand up, and farther off," came the contemptuous command. "i am not accustomed to doing my own police work. you need not try to escape; the guard is within call. i might have had you arrested half an hour ago when i first saw you." "royal highness, how--why--" stanief answered the stupefied gaze, coldly amused. "because it interested me to watch your attempt. i keep a mirror on my desk, not being without experience. who sent you to kill me?" "royal highness, my brother was hung last week." "as you this week. well?" the man winced. "royal highness, we wanted freedom. they tell us that while your royal highness lives it can not be; the country is too firmly held and too content. so we strive to act in time." he spoke as one reciting a lesson, monotonously, with effort. his type was familiar, lacking even the poor excuse of originality. "your brother was executed for an attempt to kill me?" "serenity, he worked in the palace kitchen and put poison in a cup of chocolate." "i remember. he was tried; i had nothing to do with his case." he paused, considering; and the other stared at him in mute fascination. "before i ring to have you removed, have you anything to say?" "gracious highness, pardon!" stanief regarded him with scornful amazement. "pardon? you are mad, _mon ami_. do you fancy me a child or a woman to set you free after this performance? why should i pardon you? you do not interest me in the least. go face your trial; my share in the incident is ended," and stanief turned away. "royal highness, mercy--i am afraid! not that--i will--" "what?" "buy," he offered desperately. "royalty, not to sell my comrades--who are we in your sight--there is some one else, some one of the court who wishes your death." stanief stopped with his finger on the bell and bent his keen eyes on the livid face. it was not a pleasant spectacle, this sordid, trembling figure in the firelight, but an uglier specter loomed behind it. "go on, if you choose," he conceded. "you have my permission." "royal highness, not my comrades. but he is not of us; he urges us here to fail and die. you are the master; royal highness, his name for grace." "i promise you nothing. certainly not your liberty." "no, no, but life!" he made a movement to throw himself at the regent's feet, but drew back before the decided negative. "royal highness, to live, only to live. he is a great lord, he goes to court; he hates and fears you. royal highness, he is the baron sergius dalmorov." "ah," observed stanief, and said nothing more for several minutes. his all given, the man waited feverishly, not daring to speak except by his imploring gaze. but stanief finally pushed the button without vouching a reply. "dimitri," he said curtly to the officer who appeared in answer to the summons, "take this man and have him imprisoned until i send for him again. understand me; there is no charge against him at present; simply he is a prisoner at my pleasure." the officer saluted in silence, however amazed at the presence in stanief's study of one who certainly had not passed the door, and in silence marshaled his dazed captive backward to the threshold. there he halted and again saluted. "monsieur allard awaits the honor of being received by your royal highness." "very well; admit monsieur allard." "highness," faltered the prisoner once more. dimitri favored him with a scandalized stare, jerked him unceremoniously out the door, and administered a shake that almost sent him into allard's arms. "more respect, animal," he ordered explosively. "pig of a peasant! oh, a thousand pardons, monsieur allard; pray enter." allard laughed and passed on, giving the prisoner a compassionate glance that altered to one of surprise and distrust at sight of his face. but he asked no questions, having learned many things in the course of his life in the empire. adrian himself had first given his favorite the dry advice to see nothing that did not concern him. stanief had resumed his writing; at allard's entrance he looked up to nod pleasantly toward a chair, and continued his work without speaking. the two were accustomed to each other; smiling, allard sat down and let his head sink against the high back of the cushioned seat. the fire glowed and danced, rose and fell, making an artificial brightness that mocked the clouded sky without. gradually, from waiting allard drifted into reverie, in whose closing mists his surroundings were lost from sight. after a while stanief laid down the pen, pushed aside the completed task, and surveyed his companion unobserved. twice the regent moved as if to speak, then changed his intention and remained mute. the expression that forced its way through his locked composure was not gentle; it was as if he struggled fiercely with some emotion and felt it wrench and writhe beneath the surface of self-control. but in spite of his will, his dark brows tangled, the black eyes glinted hard behind their deceptive lashes. and when he finally spoke, his voice carried a tone never before used to allard. "john, what is wrong?" he demanded. the other looked up in surprise. "nothing, monseigneur," he answered, rather wearily. stanief's fingers closed sharply on one of the ivory toys which strewed the desk. "that is not true," he contradicted. "kindly say so if you do not wish to explain; i am not a child to be put off with a light word. something has been wrong with you ever since your return from spain." too assured of their friendship for resentment or to attribute the speech to anything except interest in his affairs, allard smiled even while changing color with pain. "i have you always, monseigneur," he said. "if i have lost other loves, at least i can rest content with you." the paper-knife snapped in stanief's grasp. "thank you," he responded, with an accent worthy of his cousin. "i believe i asked you to explain." the unconscious allard pushed the bright hair from his forehead, his eyes on the ruddy unrest of the flames. "of course i meant to tell you some time, monseigneur," he mused aloud. "but it seemed a bit cowardly to burden you with my troubles; you could not help them, and you have so many of your own. it was no time to speak of such a thing during your wedding, and as the weeks went by it grew harder and harder to speak of it at all. i tried not to betray myself, but i am rather a bad actor. if it were only i who suffered. the journey to spain, for madame--" he paused. stanief gazed at him with an expression as somberly dangerous as ever one of his dangerous house wore. "the journey to spain, monsieur?" he repeated. aroused at last to a strangeness in his manner, allard turned to him in wonder. "during the journey to spain, monseigneur, this came for me," he replied simply, and drew forth a letter which he laid before the other. stanief picked it up, himself confronted by the unexpected. allard resumed his seat and averted his head as the rustling paper unfolded. it was a sweetly calm letter, a letter written by one in the evening of life and itself breathing an evening repose and gray twilight hush. across the fevered passion of the man who read, the first words drifted like the cool, scented air of the californian garden from which they came. a letter that neither reproached nor questioned, its message was given with all tenderness of phrase and household name. robert had not been well for a long time, aunt rose wrote most delicately. after john had left for south america so suddenly, his younger brother had fretted and chafed against his own quiet life. even his engagement to theodora had failed to cheer him, or cure his strange restlessness and abstraction. about six months after john's departure, he had been found unconscious on the veranda, lying among the crumpled newspapers. an illness followed, and after recovering from that he never seemed to grow quite strong. in the third year of john's absence, when preparations were being made for the long-delayed wedding, he again fell ill. the morning they received john's letter from the _nadeja_, he rallied wonderfully. asking to have the letter himself, he read it again and again, then sent them all away while he rested. an hour later they had found him, resting indeed, his cheek upon the letter and the old bright content on his boyish face. theodora had borne it very well. they were tranquilly calm in their life together, now, and sent their earnest love to john in the distant life he had chosen. stanief laid down the letter very gently. he never forgot how the light from this purer and simpler world fell across the labyrinth of dark thoughts at which he scarcely dared look back. "nearly two years," allard said, his head still turned away. "so long since robert died. i did not write at once from here; i thought they knew of me, and i wanted a little real life to tell. i was sick of pretense. i suppose the women did not know how to reach me here; bertie would have had no difficulty. but it was a grief past remedying, and there seemed no use troubling you." stanief rose and came around the writing-table to lay both hands on the other's shoulders. "i beg your pardon, john," he said earnestly and gravely. "i spoke to you just now as i never will again, come what may. i have my own griefs, less patiently endured than yours; and i misunderstood." "i did not notice," allard answered, with perfect truth. "you are always like no one else, monseigneur. i am glad that you know, very glad. you see, it is not only that i myself have lost robert, but that i have taken him from theodora. i wanted so much happiness for her, and now--it was all wrong. let us talk of something else, please." stanief turned away to the table. "my last cigarette was never lighted," he remarked, the change of tone complete. "did you not see that particularly disagreeable fellow-countryman of mine who went out in dimitri's charge? he tried to kill me just before you arrived." effectively distracted, allard sat up. "he--" "oh, that is nothing novel. in fact, it becomes monotonous. only this fellow varied the routine by declaring dalmorov the instigator of all this." "dalmorov!" allard echoed incredulously. "to stoop so far! yet i remember; i saw him talking with your prisoner the other night. i was coming from the club with rosal and linovitch, when the acetylene search-lights of the car fell across the two, as they stood in an angle of the cathedral wall." "so? he is imprudent. also he should recollect that while such people will keep faith with one another, they will cheerfully betray one of the class they hate." "you will accuse him, arrest him?" "my dear john, on the word of a wretched peasant? i shall do nothing so impulsive. but, i will perfect the chain, and then--" he offered a match serenely. "why should he not pay? moreover, he is dangerous to the emperor. when i resign this remodeled empire to my cousin, he shall rule it, not dalmorov. have patience yet a while. before my power passes from me, i will remove this gentleman, whether adrian approves of it or not; and then contentedly lay down my borrowed scepter." "the emperor--" "the emperor may do as he will, afterward. he is fond of his dalmorov." "i am not so sure of that, monseigneur; he plays with him." stanief smiled. "my young cousin is a kitten for whom we are all toy mice, john. which reminds me that the hour for my visit to him approaches." "and recalls me to my errand. the emperor requests that her royal highness the grand duchess will come to him this morning, if it will not derange her plans." "you have told madame?" "no, monseigneur. i thought perhaps you--" he looked at stanief interrogatively. "would accompany her?" stanief completed the question. "perhaps." he touched the bell, and the long regard in which he enveloped allard held many blended emotions besides its affection. "has madame gone to drive, dimitri?" he inquired of that attendant. "her royal highness at this moment descends the stairs, royal highness." "say to her that i would be glad to see her here, now, if she is at leisure." dimitri vanished hastily. an instant later he opened the door, and iría came noiselessly across the threshold with the exotic, andalusian grace that made her least movement a delight. both gentlemen rose at her entrance. coloring faintly, she inclined her head to allard, and crossed to stanief, lifting her eyes to his with a certain delicate confidence and trust. "you sent for me, monsiegneur?" she questioned, in her rippling southern voice. "i asked you to come," he corrected. "monsieur allard has a message for you." she turned docilely to allard, without leaving stanief's side. "for me, monsieur?" stanief looked from one to the other. very lovely was the young girl in her trailing blue velvets and furs; her golden-brown hair clustering in full, soft waves under the large hat, her golden-brown eyes warm with expectation. iría had acquired a dainty poise, not less gentle but more assured, during these months of emancipation and freedom under the regent's protection. allard gazed at her with frank admiration and friendliness as he explained: "madame, the emperor requests the happiness of your presence this morning, if the visit will cause no disturbance of your plans." her dimpling smile responded to a demand sufficiently familiar. adrian's love for her had long ago outlived surprise and become an accepted fact. "thank you, monsieur," she answered, and again looked up at stanief. "you are going, monseigneur? we may go together?" "i intended to ask it of you, if you will wait an instant for me to arrange these papers." allard saluted them quietly, and withdrew. like all the rest of the city, he fancied them most happy in each other. the regent's aversion to the marriage had been forgotten in his bearing since the first day of his fiancée's arrival. iría sank down in an arm-chair and loosened the furs under her round white chin, laying the huge muff in her lap. quite innocently and without shyness she followed stanief's movements as he tossed into a drawer the writing upon which he had been engaged and dropped on top the thin, keen knife left from the recent conflict. "monseigneur," she said at last. stanief winced ever so slightly; there were times when the formal title fell like a drop of acid on his nerves. "madame la duchesse?" he retorted. iría laughed out in her surprise, all unconscious of his meaning. "monseigneur, are you going to send marya away from me?" "i! what have i to do with your ladies? keep or dismiss them as you choose, iría." "marya cried this morning, telling me that last night the baron dalmorov warned her of your intention. he said that the emperor would object to the sister of count ormanof remaining at court, so you would dismiss her. but i told marya that you knew how much i cared for her, and would explain that to the emperor." "some day dalmorov will learn discretion," stanief commented, almost too indolently. "it is nearly time. the emperor did speak to me of the countess marya, and i pointed out to him that her brother's misconduct did not affect the matter in the least; since we are not living in china and visiting faults upon entire families. also i explained that you rule your own household." "but you govern us all, monseigneur," said the gentle princess, most naturally. "i was sure it would be right somehow; i told marya that no one who belonged to you need be afraid." he paused abruptly in front of her. "then you are not sorry that you trusted me with yourself, iría? you are not sorry any longer that chance placed you in my keeping?" she leaned forward across the muff, her eyes suddenly wet in their sincerity. "oh, no," she denied with energy. "no, monseigneur. ah, we do not call such things chance, we women of the south, but a higher name! i have never been sorry since that first day on the winter balcony when you spoke to me so wonderfully. you--you are so good, so kind, monseigneur." stanief looked into those clear eyes for a long moment, his own glance veiled. then he gently took one of the little gloved hands and lifted it to his lips. "i seem to have been born just for that," he said, the sadness of his voice masked by its even control, "to guard what is mine. i am glad if i do it passably well, iría. i wish i could hope that my other ward would tell me as much, some day. come, let us go to the emperor." she rose, softly flushed and smiling, yet vaguely troubled by his manner. "the emperor?" she ventured. "he is a shadow, monseigneur! you are not satisfied with him?" "what do you know of shadows, who are all sunshine? if i imagine a cloud on the imperial horizon, it is still no larger than that bit of lace in your hand. also, the question is rather if he is satisfied with me, than if i am satisfied with him. adrian is--adrian." together they moved to the door. chapter xii the turn in the road it was a few weeks later, when the tardy spring was awaking reluctantly from its long sleep, that stanief's cloud drew nearer and gained darker substance. adrian's increasing restiveness took the form of active interference with the government, and not wisely. all that was possible stanief was willing to yield, if he might keep peace, but finally the impossible was asked. it was a question of taxes which made the first rift between the cousins, a question with which the young emperor had nothing to do. the tax had been imposed during the period of readjustment; now, owing to the regent's skilled government, it was no longer necessary and he proposed to remove it. to the amazement of all concerned, adrian chose to object. plainly enough stanief saw dalmorov's influence behind the opposition, and saw himself bound to persistence both by policy and an implied promise to the people. not as yet had the tax been removed, but he most courteously had reminded adrian that no one possessed the power of interference with the measure. the result had been inevitable; adrian sulked and the regent's enemies furtively rejoiced. so opened the last year of the regency. if on the first night of the first year stanief had claimed check of his opponent, now, gazing across the half-cleared board, dalmorov could return the cry. meanwhile the suite of the sullen young sovereign suffered much from his caprices; until finally iría and allard were the only two his caustic tongue spared and his ill humor passed by. they alone did not dread the honor of attending him. and at last he even contrived to give allard the sting of many rewakened memories. "allard," he remarked one morning, "you never told me more than just that you were an american. from what state are you?" they were alone together, two learned and exhausted professors having just taken leave of as trying a listener as could well be conceived. across the book-strewn table adrian contemplated the other, meditatively at ease. "i am a californian, sire," was the reply. "come show me where in this atlas, _pour s'amuser_. your california is not small, if i recollect." allard came over obediently and found the map, pointing out the city remembered so well and so sadly. "there, sire, near that little bay. our place lay beyond the town; we called the house sun-kist." "the house was near the bay?" "very near. we used to sail and fish there. just here lay the yacht club, where robert kept his motor-boat--" he broke off and turned away more abruptly than strict etiquette allowed. adrian deliberately drew his pencil through the name on the map. "robert?" he queried. "robert allard, sire, my younger brother. he died two years ago." "soon after you came here, then?" "while i was on the _nadeja_, sire, making the voyage." "have you no other relatives there?" "yes; my aunt, mrs. leslie, and my cousin, her daughter." adrian studied his companion's pallor with a certain scientific interest, idly scribbling on the margin of the atlas without regarding what he wrote. "you regret your home?" he inquired. allard bit his lip to steady its quiver, fiercely unwilling to bare his old pain for the diversion of this coldly ennuied inquisitor. "there is nothing to call me home, sire," he replied. "my brother is not living, and my cousin, who was betrothed to him, has no wish or need of me. i think i never want to see the place as it is now. my life is here." "you loved her," adrian said calmly. "how much you give one another, you quiet, gray-eyed people! do not look like that, allard;" he actually smiled. "i am too used to my intricate and intriguing subjects to fail in reading your truthfulness. and i have not watched you with the ladies of the court without learning that some woman, one that you loved, sat at the door of your heart." allard wavered between exasperation and helpless dismay at the other's acuteness; there were occasions when his imperial majesty was almost uncanny. but he ended by remaining silent, as usual. adrian at fourteen had been anything but a child; now, at sixteen, he was fairly matched with stanief himself, and the lesser players stood back at a distance from the contest of wills. from those players allard had learned the wise habit of drawing aside to let the emperor's moods sweep past. "you and iría," adrian added, after a moment during which his thin, high-bred face hardened strangely and not happily, "you two at least are transparent, and free from under-thoughts. what time is it?" allard glanced at his watch. "eleven o'clock, sire." "you need not go when the grand duke arrives; i may want you afterward. allard--" "sire?" "i have been kind to you, if to no one else, i think. kind, and constant. perhaps i have guarded you from more pitfalls set by envy than you can conceive, or would credit. and you have served me, not feodor or another. if you were forced to the choice now, would you follow the regent or me?" the question could not have been more unexpected or more difficult. allard caught his breath, utterly at a loss. deceive adrian he would not. to forsake stanief even in appearance was not to be considered, and yet to exasperate the jealous and exacting emperor still further against his cousin was bitterly unnecessary. "sire--" "go on." but he could not go on, his ideas in hopeless confusion. "i am waiting." "sire, the regent," he admitted with desperate candor. adrian laid his pencil carefully on the map and closed the atlas, saying nothing at all. allard flushed to the roots of his fair hair. "not that i am ungrateful," he protested in hot distress. "not that i do not remember, do not understand all that you have done for me, sire. and against you i would serve no one, not even him. i would hold my life a slight thing to give either of you. sire," he took a step forward, his ardent gaze seeking the other's comprehension, "before the brother i loved, the woman i love, before any call, i would follow the regent. he--i have no words for it. it is not that my loyalty to your majesty is less, but that he claims me against the world." "happy feodor," said adrian coolly. "do not distress yourself, allard; if you had told me anything else i should not have believed you. why," he suddenly lifted to the amazed american a glance all cordial, "it is pleasant to find that loyalty to any one still exists, to find one rock in this shaking quagmire. here is the regent; go down the room and find a book to read until we finish." dazed, allard mechanically obeyed so far as to move down the apartment and pick up a book. but keen anxiety for the friend he could not aid kept his attention on the interview that followed, although it was beyond his hearing. stanief crossed to his ward with the dignified formality never relaxed between them, and bent over the offered hand. no shade of expression foretold the announcement both knew he was come to make, nor was adrian on his part less impassive. the petulant boy of two years before had become a slim, self-contained youth, whose bearing, no less than his elaborate uniform, added much to his apparent age and height. if his dark young face did not resemble his cousin's except in feature, the difference was not in lack of equal firmness. "iría did not come to-day?" was the nonchalant greeting. "no, sire. she was fatigued after last night's reception, and we did not understand your desire." "oh, i expressed none, except as it is always pleasant to see her. madame was adorable last night, a very flower of her delicious south. it occurred to me that you yourself, cousin, did not appear to feel so well as usual." "i was tired, sire," he replied simply. adrian frowned with some other emotion than anger, darting a swift regard at stanief, who leaned back in his chair with a listlessness rare indeed in him. the regent also had changed in the last two years; one does not mold a chaotic, struggling mass of conflicting elements into a ball to match the scepter without paying a price. yet if the habit of command had curved a little more firmly the firm lips, if deep thoughts and watchful diplomacy had darkened calmness to gravity, some other and subtler influences had brought a singular underlying gentleness to his expression and kept hardness at bay. adrian turned away his head half-impatiently, and did not speak at once. "you devote too close an attention to state affairs, cousin," he rejoined. "next year we will relieve you of them." the accent was more than the words; together they brought stanief's color. "i shall resign my charge most willingly, sire," he answered, with dignity. "i am glad to hear it; i fancied you might miss the regal game and find life monotonous. you have taken the task so completely from my hands that it causes no surprise to find you are wearied. i admit that you have spared me even the fatigue of consulting my wishes or opinions in regard to the government." "the accusation is hardly just, sire. a suggestion of yours has never been disregarded nor has it failed of its serious effect." "ah?" drawled adrian, with his most aggravating incredulity in the inflection. stanief raised his lashes and met the other's eyes steadfastly. both comprehended the situation perfectly, comprehended the imminent break adrian was forcing. and the emperor did not soon forget the direct sorrow and reproach of that glance. but stanief attempted no defense. "because," adrian resumed, fixing his eyes on the table before him, "i have been told otherwise. i am rejoiced to learn the truth from you, cousin; especially as a rumor reached me this morning that a certain tax had been removed, against my wish. you doubtless know the measure of which i speak. i am glad to find it is not so." "pardon, sire; it is so," was the calm reply. "the tax is removed?" "yes, sire." the adrian of two years before would have burst into furious passion; the one of to-day simply rose and walked to the nearest window. stanief necessarily rose also, and stood by his chair, waiting. at the opposite end of the room allard clenched his hands in helpless nervousness, forgetting to keep his pretense of reading. the low voices, the leisurely movements of the two, had not masked from him the crisis for the hopes and plans of years. but adrian made no scene. probably no one realized less than the regent himself how much the example of his own self-control had taught the same quality to his ward. when the young emperor came back, only his extreme pallor betrayed the tempest within. "very well," he said resolutely. "amuse yourself, my cousin; i can wait. eleven months, is it not?" the break, and the menace. stanief saluted him quietly. "a trifle less than eleven months, sire. may i assume your imperial majesty's permission to retire? i suppose it is scarcely worth while to reiterate the arguments as to the necessity of my action." "scarcely. do not let me detain you from your many affairs, cousin. ah, i believe dalmorov is waiting out there; let me tax your courtesy so far as to ask you to send him to me." he extended his hand carelessly; no longer as a sign of friendliness, but as a compulsion of homage. "it is for you to command, sire," was stanief's proudly unmoved response. adrian looked down at the bent head and put out his left hand in rapid, curious gesture, almost as if to touch caressingly the heavy ripples of dark hair,--the merest abortive movement, for the hand fell again at his side before even allard saw. "thank you," he acknowledged composedly, and watched the other go. dalmorov entered presently, radiant with satisfaction, but allard could have borne witness that the baron passed no pleasant hour with his irritable and irritating master. like the fleck of a lash adrian's tongue touched each weakness and stung each exposed hope of the courtier three times his age, until even the distrait american found himself compelled to amusement. stanief did not ride home that morning with the cheerful vasili and bored rosal, who awaited him. as he came down the wide steps between the usual parting, obsequious crowds, a girl leaned from a victoria that stood in the place of his own carriage,--iría, opposite her the pale young countess marya. "will you ride with me, monseigneur?" invited the gentle princess, with her deliciously confiding glance and smile. "we were on the promenade, and i thought perhaps you would have finished--" [illustration: "will you ride with me, monseigneur?"] a knot of early daffodils was tucked in her girdle, the spring breeze fluttered a bright strand of crinkled bronze against her brighter cheek; all the youth of the year was in the happy face she lifted to him. stanief paused with his foot on the step to look at her, many thoughts meeting in his drowsily-brilliant eyes. "thank you," he answered. "i wonder if you will ever come for me again, iría, after i have finished here indeed." an innocent surprise and pleasure dawned in her expression. "i will come every day, if you like, monseigneur," she offered. "i did not know you cared." he took the seat beside her, with a courteous salute to marya. "you are gracious, as always. i did not mean exactly that, although you can not guess how pleasant it was to find you here to-day. live your pretty routine and fancies, duchess of dreams, and give me the alms of time you can not use." they spoke in iría's soft native tongue, which the countess marya did not understand and which stanief had learned long before in some of the _nadeja's_ nomadic voyages. always gentle to the gentle iría, to-day his voice carried an added tenderness which stirred her to vague unrest and wistfulness. "you do not mean that," she said, troubled. "how should i have any time that is not yours, monseigneur? and my fancies--you can not know how many of them are wishes that i might prove a little, only a little, of all your kindness makes me feel. i wish, how much i wish, that i could do something for you!" the victoria was rolling through the busy, cheerful streets; vehicles making way for it in respectful haste, people saluting with more than mere formality and following the regent with grateful eyes. stanief's city, stanief's country this, drawn by him out of anarchy into order, out of suffering into peace. the people knew, and he knew. he looked across it all now before answering, battling with fierce loneliness and rebellion. "iría, what i have done for you is nothing. you are my wife," there was no mockery in the quietly spoken word, "and claim all i can give. but, since we are alone except for each other and have been placed together, would you care to save my pride some day by stepping at my side out of this court? by giving me the dignity of holding my household above the wreck?" startled and dismayed, she turned to him. "monseigneur, i do not understand! you, you to speak of wreck! oh, and you ask me that, you doubt?" he laid his hand warningly on hers. "we are under a hundred eyes, iría. you live aloof from politics and intrigues, but yet you know my regency ends in a few months." "you mean--the emperor?" "the emperor has never trusted me, never forgiven me for the chance which set me as ruler of his country. there is no danger of the old kind; the days of state executions are past, or i would never have survived the last reign. but when adrian assumes command it will undoubtedly mean that i lay aside all you have seen of me, and retire a simple gentleman of leisure to my estates. no more will i play 'the regal game,' as adrian expressed it to-day. could you brave that, iría, to be no longer the center of a brilliant court? to live the stately monotony of my life in the old castle among the mountains, or perhaps travel to other countries as just the wife of the grand duke feodor stanief, who is of no more importance than any noble? for adrian will want to keep you, if you will stay." the little hand under his turned to clasp his fingers; star-eyed, richly tinted with excitement, iría leaned to him. "with you, let me be with you. i am afraid of nothing with you, without you of everything. oh, monseigneur, do you not see that what you lose are a man's desires, not a woman's? power, political influence, to guide and rule--what do such names mean to me? i shall miss nothing; it is only you who will grieve and regret." "my dear, my dear," said stanief unsteadily, and turned away his face before a new hope which out-dazzled all the morning's pictured loss. "it is so, only do not speak again of leaving me here. i love the emperor, but i am afraid of him. and if he can treat you in this way--" "hush; never blame him, however alone you fancy us. if you can help it, do not let him guess that i have told you of this. and for the rest, the fault is more dalmorov's than his." "i will not," she promised. and after a moment, "some one else will follow you always, monseigneur." he knew the answer before he asked the question, and the light went suddenly from his face, leaving it to all the old grave endurance. "who, iría?" "monsieur allard," she replied. stanief again looked across the teeming streets; it was as if a chill, intangible mist stole up from the near-by river and drew its cold grayness between the two who sat side by side. "john is a loyal gentleman," he said, without anger; "i value you both above all else. for two years i have walked without seeing beyond a certain point, to-day i have come to a turn in the road and on ahead i see my destination. not the end i hoped, perhaps, but at least i know. and i thank you for the household security which you have given to me, my poor child." the carriage stopped in front of the quaintly splendid palace stanief. iría lingered before accepting the regent's aid to descend, her delicate lip curving distressedly. "do not call me that, please," she begged. "because you have made me very happy, monseigneur." the perfume of her daffodils was about him, faint, virginal, bitter-sweet as her presence in his house. stanief deliberately painted to himself the fierce delight of catching her in his arms, of pressing the little sunny head to him and crushing her sweet ignorance out of existence with one kiss she could never forget. but his hand did not even close upon the small one resting in it. "then i have lived to some purpose," he responded serenely. chapter xiii the intervention of adrian for iría to attempt to hide a change of thought from the keen-eyed and sophisticated adrian with his clairvoyant faculty of penetration was as futile as for a flower to resolve to shut from the sun the drop of dew in its golden heart. a week after her morning drive with stanief, when iría was passing one of her usual hours with the emperor, he coolly put his finger on her secret. "you are not yourself, _cousine_," he observed. "what has feodor been telling you of me?" "oh!" iría exclaimed in distress, regarding her youthful sovereign with wide, astonished eyes. adrian smiled with his fine malice. "come, confess. or shall i guess? i am ungrateful, unappreciative, and swayed by dalmorov; not so? moreover i am dangerous, and making my regent extremely uncomfortable." "oh, no, sire. he bade me never blame you, indeed. he said nothing like that," denied madame impetuously, then stopped short. "then what did he tell you?" "but i was not to repeat," she pleaded. this time adrian laughed outright and leaned forward to capture one of the lily-leaf hands and lift it to his lips. they were seated in the great octagonal library, which of all the palace was the emperor's favorite room, iría employed with a bit of the intricate embroidery always brought at his especial request. he was fond of watching her while her attention was fixed on the pretty task; and until a few months before stanief had not infrequently made a third at the gracious pretense of domesticity. to-day, at the opposite side of the apartment and out of hearing, allard chatted with two of iría's ladies. "you have not repeated, _cousine_," the inquisitor assured her. "i myself guessed. and since i appear to have guessed worse than the truth, you had better correct me. i will not tell feodor." she looked up at him then, flushing all over. "if i tell you, sire," she retorted with pride, "i shall say so to monseigneur as soon as i see him. must i speak?" "i think you had better, _chère cousine_." she laid the glowing tissue in her lap and met the raillery of his glance quite seriously. "then i will try to remember, sire, because the truth is always much the best to know. and i am certain you would not ask me to hurt him. he asked me if i would be ready to go with him when the regency ended and you sent him from court. he said that you had never trusted him, and could not forgive him for the government forced upon him. that was all, indeed. except that he did say you thought highly of baron dalmorov; and, and, a few words just for me." adrian passed his hand across his eyes as if to push back the hair from his forehead, and remained silent for a few seconds. "if feodor is not happy, he pays the penalty of having ruled," he returned, his strange unyouthful bitterness most repellant. "i am not happy, nor was my father, nor his father before him. and you would leave me to go with him, _cousine_? think of it again. i offer you your household in the capital; until some day i marry, you will be still the first lady of my court. i loved you the first time i met you in italy; you were so gentle, so different from all i knew. i was only a boy, iría, but i resolved to bring you to my country some way; and i succeeded. what has feodor to give compared with all i hold for you? will you stay?" "but i am his wife," she answered simply. "how could i stay, sire?" "you love him so?" iría grew pale, then raised her hands to her cheeks to cover the returning color that dyed even her temples. "i--i do not know," she faltered, aghast at a question never asked even of herself. "i--no--he does not me--" he stared at her, for once thoroughly amazed. "he does not love you?" he echoed. "you do not know? why, iría--" she flashed into the first and last anger he ever saw in her. "you forced us to marry each other, sire. we did not want it, no!" she cried, and raised the little, useless handkerchief to her eyes. there was a pause, then adrian dismissed the subject with a sentence that gave his companion food for thought during many a day to come. "poor feodor," he said very compassionately. "twice." at the other end of the library allard hesitated, broke the thread of his gay speech, and caught it up again incoherently. "what is it?" queried the countess marya playfully. "monsieur allard looks at the agitation of madame," murmured the petite baroness alexia. all three regarded the pair opposite, and exchanged significant glances. "lieutenant vasili told me that baron dalmorov spent two hours with the emperor last night. is it so, monsieur?" added alexia. "yes, baroness," admitted allard soberly. she shrugged her shoulders. "i am to be married in september, myself. but i do care for the grand duchess; i am sorry for--this." "i love the grand duchess," said marya quickly. "and the regent has been most good to me. where they go, there go i." allard winced even in the approving smile he sent the pale young maid of honor, so hard it was to hear stanief's fall predicted and discussed. iría recovered herself almost immediately and brought her gold-and-topaz eyes back to those of the emperor. "i would like to go, if i may, sire," she said. "are you offended with me, _cousine_?" "certainly not, sire." he watched her fold the gleaming embroidery, tapping his fingers restlessly on the arm of his chair. "you would go, and allard," he mused aloud, "each after a duty, a love, an aim. i wonder if there was ever but one who centered all such thoughts in me, who made me the axis of his world?" "you think of baron dalmorov, sire?" she ventured. he gave her the desired permission by rising. "you are anxious to go, _cousine_; pardon. why, yes, dalmorov; who else? allard," he turned to summon the others, "allard will have the honor of accompanying you to the carriage." "no," protested iría, but too late. "no? you do not wish allard's escort?" he demanded. "oh, yes, i--of course." she turned hurriedly from him, then looked back with a gesture of helpless bewilderment and distress. "i wish you had not spoken, sire; i wish you had not spoken." and as the others came up, she passed her hand through marya's arm and left allard and alexia to follow. all that day stanief was immersed in councils and affairs. not until evening did he and iría meet, when she stopped in his study on her way to the opera, where no less a cavalier than the emperor was to take her husband's place with her. standing straight and slim before him, her head drooping under its weight of silken floss and spanning jewels, her soft throat and dimpled shoulders crossed and recrossed by the manifold strands of the wonderful stanief pink pearls, she repeated the conversation of the morning. repeated it, all except the last part. her eyes downcast, her gloved fingers twisted nervously together, the rosy gems gleaming uneasily with her rapid breathing, it was the iría of long ago he saw the timid, shrinking girl whom allard had brought from spain. sensitive as a woman to the change, stanief gazed and listened, finding no explanation in the story she related. "that is all?" he asked gently, when she ended. "yes," she said faintly. "all that matters, monseigneur." "you," he hesitated a moment for the right words. "you are not troubled, or displeased, iría?" she retreated a step, bending to gather round her the trailing satin and lace folds. "no," she answered. "no, monseigneur. good night." without his will, without his act, the delicate confidence between them was shattered. the frail, exquisite understanding that was too slight for friendship, too pale for love, had been destroyed. afterward, in the days which followed, stanief came to look back on that month as the time when two existences crumbled under his touch. when she had gone, he sat still for many moments. "adrian or dalmorov," he decided. "i wonder--" he touched the bell, the old dangerous drowsiness settling over his expression. "dimitri, you remember that i once placed in your charge a man found in this room?" "certainly, your royal highness." "have him brought to me; i am ready to see him." dimitri saluted and vanished. all unconsciously, iría's taper, snowy fingers had touched the pieces on the grim chess-board, and moved them ever so slightly. chapter xiv the ordeal for allard that last summer of the regency brought the hardest of all things for a loving heart to bear: to stand in the shelter and watch a friend in the storm, to be forced to witness where unable to aid. no personal humiliation could have affected him so painfully as to see stanief under the emperor's stinging sarcasms and cold, young insolence, to note the furtive words and glances of the men who still courted present power while predicting its future fall. never after that morning of the contest of wills between the cousins, did adrian's unforgiving sullenness lessen or relent. day after day the regent paid his formal visit and endured the ordeal with chill dignity. day after day adrian received him in the presence of dalmorov or half a dozen young nobles of the capital; usually on the point of going out, and so making the brief interview a mere farce. only one courtesy the emperor conceded to the self-respect of both; never did he make the least hint of menace or future reckoning except when the cousins were alone or with allard. by inference alone could the rest of the court foretell the coming end. and dalmorov was radiant. his spare figure actually dilated and gained weight in these days of victory, his eye-glasses poised a trifle more superciliously before his pale eyes. stanief looked above and past him with a certain lofty indifference, but between dalmorov and the chafing, aching allard a clash was inevitable. as they seldom met except when adrian's desire for both compelled, it was not surprising that in his presence that clash occurred. it was after stanief had passed an especially difficult and trying hour with the emperor, an hour which left allard's nerves in quivering exasperation. when at last the regent took leave, adrian rose at the same time and crossed to a window with his nonchalant languor of movement. "bring me those glasses we were trying this morning, allard," he directed. "i want to see that ship entering the river." but allard did nothing of the kind. the fourth one present, dalmorov, had just moved aside from the door with an indescribable smile and bow to the regent. "i have the honor to wish your royal highness good morning," he said sweetly. stanief glanced down at him, outwardly unmoved by the neglect of a courtesy compelled by every rule of custom and etiquette; but before embarrassment was possible allard sprang forward and himself held back the door. "thank you," stanief said only, but his eyes met the gray ones in passing. "really, baron, for a diplomat you grow too absent-minded," commiserated allard softly to his vis-à-vis. "one might have imagined you intended that his royal highness should open the door himself." "since monsieur allard has become so learned in etiquette, he might observe that the emperor is waiting," dalmorov retorted viciously. allard shot a glance at adrian, who had turned round just in time to witness the whole scene. "at least, if i offend, i am careful to offend one who can retaliate, baron," he flung back in an undertone, as he moved in quest of the article demanded. "who can, and whom you are in no position to provoke," dalmorov sent after him, incautiously raising his tone with a bitter significance which the other failed to comprehend. "when you are at leisure, gentlemen," adrian's voice interposed coolly. "dalmorov, i would suggest that you follow my cousin and explain your unfortunate lapse of memory. allard, i believe i made a request." there was little allard could not have forgiven to adrian for sending dalmorov to make that apology. "i beg a thousand pardons, sire," he answered contentedly as he crossed the room. after all adrian did not look at his ship, but remained leaning against the window with his reflective gaze fixed on the other's face. "i wonder," he remarked, when the door had closed behind dalmorov, "if you do things like that because you are an american." surprised, allard smiled involuntarily. "perhaps, sire, we are rather _sans gêne_." "you misunderstand me," he corrected. "i mean, do you act as the others would not, because you are not my subject as they are?" allard understood then, and the implied accusation stung him to hot anger. "no, sire," he flashed. "i have not lived under your shelter and eaten your bread to hide beneath another flag when the scale turns. i am an american, yes, but i do not use my nationality as a cloak for cowardice. so far, i have become your subject by entering your service." not until long afterward did allard read the slow, half-amused smile that rose to the surface of the emperor's dark eyes. "very good, we shall remember, monsieur _l'américain_," he returned, quite untroubled by the other's indignation. "do not complain if some day i interfere with your affairs." his affairs? allard puzzled mentally. but he received no further explanation, and neither to him nor dalmorov did adrian again mention the incident. stanief looked very grave when allard repeated the scene to him. "you have made an active enemy of dalmorov instead of a passive," was his comment. "why should i care, monseigneur? where you go, i follow, when the end comes." "the end," stanief echoed dreamily. "everything does not end for us at once, john; we leave our treasures all along the path as we journey." down his self-appointed path stanief was moving steadfastly in those months. and the first treasure left behind, the hardest to resign, had been iría's confidence. locked within the old timidity, she avoided her husband whenever it was possible to do so, hiding her eyes from him when necessity brought them together, coming no more to his study. but there was one exception: every morning, after stanief's visit to the palace, she waited for him in her carriage. silent, her hands clasped in her lap, replying with hesitating monosyllables, she sat by his side during the drive home, one of her ladies opposite them. before adrian, stanief lifted his head a little more proudly, let his lashes fall a little lower, and went on his way without protest. he had enough to do, as he toiled to place the country in a position to continue without him. wisely, tactfully, striving not to antagonize the emperor to the right policy by claiming it as his own, he prepared the guiding lines to lie peacefully in the inexperienced grasp soon to take them. it was not a happy task, or a light one, and he worked at it absolutely alone except for allard's passionate and powerless sympathy. but still he worked. and because there was so much to be done, it seemed to him that the days slipped through his fingers like beads of a broken chain. so winter set its seal of silence on river and snow-muffled street before he realized the fading summer. with spring would end the regency. "how many months now, cousin?" drawled the emperor, returning from the races held upon the glittering ice of the river, and pausing on the steps of the palace to unclasp his too oppressive furs. "five, sire," answered the tranquil regent. "i believe i have to congratulate your imperial majesty upon the victories in to-day's sport." "my horses? ah, yes; this is my fortunate year. thank you, cousin." and allard, in attendance, bit his lip until a tiny thread of crimson sprang beneath the pressure. faster and faster the beads were slipping from the chain; the path was straight to the end and very short. chapter xv at the gates of change once more stanief was alone in his study, on the morning when allard made his first rebellion. the windows were open and a warm, sweet breeze drifted the curtains into the room like snowy mists from the past winter, rustling on among the papers upon the writing-table, as stanief laid down his work to listen to the visitor. it was so rare to see allard excited and he was so vibrant with indignation as he stood before the other. "like that," he was declaring hotly, speaking english in his preoccupation, "and dalmorov sneered, listening. 'my cousin is having his fine old country-place in the mountains renovated, allard, so i am informed.' 'i know nothing, sire,' i said. 'he is very far-sighted,' he answered coolly. monseigneur, i will not go back; i came here to tell you that. i am weary of watching it; i will stay with you. i can come here as i always hoped to do, giving to you, not asking. let me finish, please. the emperor has been generous to me, however little so to you, and i am modestly rich in my own right. why, the pension accompanying the star and order he gave me after that attempt to kill him, that alone is more than my solitary life requires. my tastes are simple--that automobile about which you laugh at me is not as you think. it is my pride to have regained my independence, monseigneur; to be able to come to you, free, and offer to do your secretary's work, vasili's, what you choose, but to do it as a service of love. long ago, on the _nadeja_, i lent myself to aid your purpose, to make it mine. and now you have carried it through; next week the emperor will be crowned. now i claim the right to return to you; the work is done." "john--" "you can not refuse me that," he cried. "you have taken my life and made it center around you, now you can not bid me tear that core out and go on." as on their first night together, stanief stretched his hand across the table for his companion's clasp. "no," he answered lovingly, "we can not go on without each other. if you will stay with a sinking ship, come; i am selfish enough to let you. but the charge i gave you is not finished, nor my purpose yet fulfilled. you must go back until next week is over." "the emperor--" allard began incredulously. "the emperor needs you more than ever before. there are too many people who cling to the peace of the last years, who dread change and would force me upon the throne at any cost. the empire--not adrian's court--the vast middle class, the merchants, the quiet, staid aristocracy, the very peasants, want all to continue as it is. if i were still to govern with the emperor they would rest content, but they see it will not be so. they fear adrian, they know and detest dalmorov and the party he represents. and they are not careful in their methods of obtaining what they want. john, if you knew the veiled insinuations, the bold offers, the tempters who pursue me night and day; if you knew how they watch for the hours when adrian has been most hard, how they skilfully touch my pride, my patriotism, my resentment and knowledge of injustice, if you lived my life for twenty-four hours, then you might speak of weariness. but the worst--" aghast, allard stared at him, deep after deep of the inner court opening before his dizzy gaze. "the worst?" he repeated mechanically. the hand on the table clenched; all the inherited lawlessness and ambition of a royal line blazed up in stanief's darkly brilliant eyes. "i want it," he said deliberately. "i want to rule this country, to toss dalmorov from my path, to stamp out the satisfied triumph from these time-serving faces about me. i want to play this splendid game and remain chief in the battles of diplomacy and statecraft. i want my wife to continue in the life to which she was born. and i know the power to accomplish all this lies ready at my hand; i have only to take. oh, i am no galahad or cincinnatus, no patient despiser of earthly good; no longer even the idealist who spun his dreams on the _nadeja_. i have tasted of a dangerous fountain, and i shall thirst for its purple-tinted water all the rest of my time. i have no bent, no inclination, for obscure inactivity." "yet?" allard wondered. stanief leaned back and idly picked up the pen on his desk. "yet adrian's coronation takes place next week, exactly. are we sufficiently inconsistent, we others? and i will pass my life in a castle of the north, or wandering over europe. i only spoke to show you that my days are not serene either, and why you must go back to keep your guard of honor with adrian. i believe he is safe; the secret police watch him ceaselessly and report to me. but i want you near him." "i will go back now," assented allard, utterly subdued. "you are right, i knew nothing of this. i owe so much to him, as well as to you. i wish i were a wiser guardian; i--that automobile--" "your automobile! my dear john, what has it to do with the matter? or do you mean that adrian gave it to you? i never knew that." "yes, he gave it to me," allard smiled and frowned together. "it is nothing, of course. but i will not leave him again unless you wish or he compels." "thank you. you are going direct to the palace?" "yes; he sent me with a letter to madame." stanief winced, sighing. one trial he had not told allard, yet exile would have been a light thing to bear if the fearless child iría had still walked with him. "wait and i will go with you," he offered. "i must have the emperor's approval of these plans for next week. have you delivered madame's letter?" "not yet, monseigneur. i am afraid i forgot it." "give it to me and i will leave it with her in passing. i have not seen her to-day." it had come to that point; the cold and self-contained stanief sought a pretext in these days to see the delicate face he loved. the gentle princess was hurting him as no one else could. up in her cream-and-azure boudoir, iría was alone when stanief entered. she was bending over a table heaped with water-lilies and purple florentine irises from the conservatory, herself quite radiant with their reflected brightness as she lifted the heavy petals and breathed their fragrance. her back to the door, she did not turn at once to see who came unannounced. "look, marya," she called gladly and sweetly. "come here; were ever things so lovely? so the irises grew at home, knee-deep in the clear pools, like enchanted princes. and the lilies,--over them the dragon-flies hovered all day and between their stems the goldfish slept and played." she moved with the last word and saw stanief; a tall, soldierly presence in the filagree room. "oh," she exclaimed faintly, "pardon, monseigneur!" "for what?" he demanded. "it is i who should apologize for disturbing you here. i have a letter from the emperor for you." "thank you, monseigneur," she murmured, and accepted the massive envelop to lay it listlessly on the table. stanief looked at her. like one of her own slim flowers she stood, her shimmering white morning dress leaving her round throat and arms bare. the full soft hair was caught in a great coil low on her neck, she wore no jewel except the slender gold chain and cross gleaming through the lace at her bosom. "why are you afraid of me?" he asked abruptly. "why do you shrink from me as if my touch were pain? what has come between us, iría?" "nothing, monseigneur," her fingers inter-laced in feverish nervousness. "nothing? iría, iría, will you tell me now to take you with me into my exile?" "yes, monseigneur," came the low reply, but her head drooped. "and you think i would accept the sacrifice? you think--" he checked himself with a violent effort. "i am sorry," she responded confusedly. "i--i have not changed." "then it is i?" "no, no; please let me go, monseigneur." "it is i who will go," he answered, shaken out of self-mastery for once. "iría, i do not know who awakened you, who showed you the truth, perhaps it was my kindly cousin. but it is clear that you have seen. iría, was your trust also so weak that it went down before a breath? because i loved you, must you shrink from me? child, i loved you the first day that you gave me your shy friendship, i loved you all the months afterward, and was my care of you less careful for that? if you could have continued in your ignorance, would i have failed you?" before his passion and grief she retreated, mute, colorless, her dazed eyes upon him. "you!" she gasped, "you--" then suddenly turned and hid her face among the heaped flowers. "i did not hope that you could love me; i knew better than that," he said. "but i did hope that you would trust me. i thought i had earned that much, iría. let my fancies go; i will undo this as far as i may. you shall stay in the capital or go to your own home, whatever you choose. only this week remains, and i lay down both my charges. hush, and do not grieve; this is no fault of yours." she was sobbing helplessly, her golden head among the white and purple blossoms. he drew a quick breath and stood for a moment, struggling to regather around him the poor tattered cloak of reserve. but it was a relief to him that she could not see his expression when he crossed to her side. "forgive me," he said sadly. "i am not very wise to-day, or very kind, i am afraid. i have loved you; yes, and i loved adrian during our quiet years. some flaw in me there must be, that neither of you could give me the simple gift of trust. we will speak of this no more; somehow i will find a way for you. 'a stanief guards his own.'" his voice shook on the sentiment he would have spoken lightly; stooping with the fierceness of pain suppressed, he touched his lips to her bright hair. "you," panted iría, as the door closed. "you, monseigneur!" he had gone; only the silver-fringed curtain still swayed to tell of his passage, the frail, feminine atmosphere of the place still quivered from the presence of a dominant energy. down in the open carriage--a massively luxurious vehicle with the imperial arms enameled upon the door--allard waited for stanief a long time. the emperor, just returning from a drive and apparently in haste to have his note reach iría, had sent the nearest messenger in his own carriage. "do you know what one might imagine, seeing this carriage here and you waiting in it?" playfully demanded vasili, as he lounged against the wheel. "what?" "that the emperor was paying a visit to his cousin." "i wish he were," allard sighed unguardedly. "i never meddle with politics; _pas si bête_. but i wish i were the emperor's favorite just now, as you are. there will be changes soon, _hein_?" "i suppose so. no one can tell." "no, of course not. do you know, i would like to be off in the _nadeja_ next week." "the regent is coming," allard warned, gladly seizing an escape from the conversation. vasili swung around and clicked his heels together, saluting stiffly. allard stepped down from the carriage. "you need not come, vasili," stanief remarked, as he took his seat. "monsieur allard will accompany me. come, john; we are late." the horses sprang forward. the drive through the streets, gay with preparations for the coronation and crowded with busy people, was attended by the manifestations grown familiar. more eager way was made for stanief than for the emperor himself; the glances which followed him were grateful and keenly anxious. once a girl in a passing farmer's cart rose to toss into the carriage a sheaf of wildflowers. "little father of the people!" she called in the soft, guttural vernacular. it was a title given only to sovereigns; stanief flushed and frowned together. "that will not do," he commented drily, leaning back in the shadow of the victoria top. "you have permitted them to think, and they give you their verdict," allard answered. the carriage turned from the great square to an avenue leading toward the palace. densely packed with people, there was a brief pause before the way could be cleared. noting a change in the atmosphere, a chill and more nervous haste, allard lifted his eyes to his companion. "this carriage, and with you in the shadow, monseigneur," he observed,--"they think it is the emperor who passes." the reply was not made by stanief. straight and surely aimed, a missile hurtled from an upper window in one of the buildings and fell on the cushions beside him. "for peace and freedom!" shrieked a man, leaning from the window in half-insane excitement and waving his arms above his head. "no adrian--for the emperor feodor!" the crowd grew white with upturned faces; then, comprehending, broke into tumult and panic. screaming, frantic, one and all turned to fly from the vicinity of the carriage. allard snatched the bomb from the seat and rose to fling it from him, but even as he checked himself, stanief seized his arm. "not into the people, john," he ordered sharply. "better keep it here than that." "go, you!" allard implored, turning the smoking object in his hands for examination. "go, monseigneur!" above the uproar of the fighting, shrieking mob rose the agonized cry of the man at the window as he saw the regent's face: "you! you! the fuse, pull the fuse!" "fuse?" echoed allard, catching at a small hanging thread of cotton. "monseigneur, go, go! i can handle this--" the cotton broke off short; a steady hissing warned them that it still burned inside. "give it here," stanief commanded collectedly. "get your penknife." the two men bent above the oval, gray messenger of hate and death. around them raged indescribable disorder; the very coachman and footmen had fled from the carriage. "if you would go!" allard panted, his voice tense. "bah," said stanief, and forced the bomb from him. an ominous snapping came from within. stanief's strong white fingers fitted themselves to the crack and with a superb effort he twisted the thing in half. "ah!" gasped allard, blinded, as a great cloud of smoke rushed forth. stanief drew out the fuse as it reached the end, and flung it into the street. "lighted too late," he explained. "our terrorists are clumsy." "they meant it for adrian," he answered. "you were right." they found each other's hands through the choking fumes; allard's fingers scorched by the guncotton, stanief's bruised and bleeding from the force used to open the machine. as the smoke cleared they looked around, then back at each other. they were alone in a deserted street. distant cries, increasing tumult, announced the spreading panic. three blocks away flashed the green-and-gold of the palace guards as they charged to the scene, over pavements littered with fallen garments, the contents of overturned vehicles, and the vehicles themselves. the well-trained horses of the royal carriage had stood still, accustomed to public demonstrations of a different nature but similar violence. "really," allard exclaimed, on the verge of laughter. "really, monseigneur--" "there has been some excitement," stanief assented. "will you go on to the palace and explain to the emperor? i am going back to reassure madame." their attendants were creeping shamefacedly back to their posts, seeing all was over. the line of soldiers swept down upon the carriage, a very pale officer in command. "i will do," said allard, "anything you want." if the uproar had been great at the attack, it trebled as the furious crowd surged back in search of the assailant. the guards were obliged to close around the regent to shield him from the frenzied and hysterical joy of the people at his safety. the slow return to his home was one continuous ovation, almost the cheering masses prevented advance. long before stanief reached his goal, allard had arrived at the palace. no less excitement reigned there. without need of explanation, allard was hurried to the emperor, questioned and congratulated on every side. he met adrian in the hall, and at sight of his messenger, blackened with smoke, hatless, still pale with the strain of those perilous moments, the emperor sprang forward and caught his arm. "feodor?" he cried fiercely, his voice ringing through the lofty corridors. "speak, speak; where is feodor?" "sire, he has returned to madame the grand duchess." "safe? you are not deceiving me, he is safe?" "he is unhurt; he destroyed the bomb before it exploded," allard explained incoherently. "his hands are cut, no more." adrian dropped the other's arm and drew back; for hours allard felt the bruise of that feverish grasp. "to madame," he repeated. "sire, he ordered me to bring an account of the affair to your imperial majesty. he can be sent for," allard suggested eagerly, catching a daring hope from the apparent emotion. adrian favored him with a saber-keen glance. "why should i wish to see him?" he demanded harshly. "if he is uninjured, very good; we will send our congratulations. you are exhausted, monsieur allard; go to your apartments and recover yourself. alisof," he turned upon the group of listeners, "you will inform the chief of police that i shall replace him next week if he completes this exhibition of inefficiency by letting the assassin escape. and when he captures the man, he will report to me, not to the regent." scarlet enough now under the streaks of grime, allard moved aside to let him pass. all his self-control could not smother the blazing indignation in his gray eyes. but adrian brushed past without regarding him, and went alone into the room beyond. chapter xvi fire lilies through the uproar, between the crowding people, stanief at last gained his own hall and partly quelled the confusion by his mere presence. "tell madame that i have returned and will visit her as soon as this smoke is removed," was his first direction on setting foot upon the steps. but when he reached the head of the great staircase a white figure flashed down the hall to meet him. "monseigneur, monseigneur," moaned the silver voice. before all the household, and adrian's guards, iría clutched stanief's stained and blackened coat with small, eager hands and fainted on his breast. "stand back!" the master commanded as a score of dismayed attendants rushed forward and the countess marya sprang toward her mistress. and lifting her easily in his arms, he carried her back to the cream-tinted boudoir left so shortly before and so nearly left for ever. on the way the gold-and-topaz eyes opened, but she did not protest or move until stanief set her down. "john is safe," he said, with a tenderness that had long passed beyond jealousy. "did they not tell you, dear?" iría caught the chair beside her. "you," she panted. "they said you were hurt. oh, your hands--" "it is nothing." "it is, to me. i thought you would die and never know that i loved you so, monseigneur." "iría!" he cried. she held out her hands to him with passionate innocence and grief, the loose sleeves falling back to her shoulders with the gesture. "i do, i do. never say those things to me again, never leave me like that." dazzled, incredulous, he swept her to him, almost rough in his unbearable doubt and joy. "and john? what of john?" "you knew--" "knew? child, you betrayed yourself the first time you spoke of him, the first time i saw you together. why should i blame you for no fault of yours? how could i blame him, who never even guessed your thought? i never wondered at your choice; only, give me the truth now." "but i love you," she said. "monsieur allard; i never thought of him like that after our wedding-day. you were so calm, so strong, i just rested with you and found no room for any other. on the voyage from spain, i imagined somehow that monsieur allard was you, that you had come secretly to meet me, and so i almost taught myself to care for him. no more than that it was." closer he held her, searching the face of rose-and-pearl with his splendid, lonely eyes. "love of mine, make no mistake. i want you; my dear, i have wanted you so bitterly long, and you have shrunk from me. you care now, iría?" "i have always cared, only i never knew until last year. since then i have hidden from you because i feared you would see; because i never dreamed _you_ cared." with a tinkling crash the silver pin slipped from her hair, like a golden serpent the heavy coil unwound and fell over his arm, draping them both with rippling silk as he stooped to kiss her quivering lips. after a moment she stirred slightly, her head still on his arm as she looked up. "now you will take me with you?" she breathed, in delicious content. "now you will not leave me with the emperor, feodor?" for the first time in many weeks stanief laughed, reveling in their knit gaze. "poor adrian! how can he punish his rebellious regent, since he must leave me you? in a garden of fire my lily has opened. where shall we go, iría, on our golden journey? to your perfumed south?" "may i choose?" "you may command." "then take me to your own old castle in the hills. shall it not be our home?" "hush, you have spoken a word i never knew; let me listen to it for a moment." outside the city roared unheeded, unheard. chapter xvii an arabian night the emperor's congratulations and formal inquiries duly arrived, borne by a glittering officer who was so impressed by the coldness of the message intrusted to him that he scarcely raised his eyes during its delivery. he had the misfortune to be attached to the regent. but stanief received all unmoved. a clear scarlet burned in his dark cheek, his drowsy eyes glowed with some inward fire. he had just left the grand duchess and still carried traces of the recent accident, but he smiled in utter tranquillity as he listened, and gave his reply. it was too unaccountable; actually dismayed by the indifferent composure, the officer retired, and found himself stammering again when he repeated the answering message to the emperor. adrian was at dinner, or rather had just concluded, when he found time to receive the envoy; and he set down his glass to study this embarrassment in a courtier of twenty years' standing. he was always cynically interested in such situations. "what else did the grand duke say?" he demanded. "sire, nothing was said except that which i have had the honor to report to your imperial majesty." "nothing to you?" "nothing, sire." adrian made no sign, yet the unfortunate equery was conscious that he was not believed. "my cousin appeared well?" came the inquiry. "perfectly well, sire. remarkably so." "i am enchanted to hear it; he has need of steady nerves. that will do." he pushed away the glass and rose, his glance encountering that of allard near him. "you almost hate me to-night, allard?" he questioned softly. allard, in evening dress, the tiny jeweled star of honor flashing on his coat, was very different in appearance from the smoke-grimed gentleman of noon, but his gray eyes met adrian's in the same indignation with which they had shone from beneath the stains of the explosion. "almost, sire," he acknowledged. staggered by the unexpected frankness, adrian nearly lost his self-possession for the first time in his seventeen years. but he recovered immediately. "thanks for the 'almost'," he said with nonchalance. "just bring my cloak; i want you to go with me." amazed at himself, allard obeyed, humiliatingly aware that he had been scarcely decorous and certainly unwise. "i beg your pardon, sire," he said seriously, as he offered the cloak. adrian surveyed him calmly. "was it true?" he queried. in spite of himself allard smiled. "almost, sire," he confessed. "truth is a virtue, at least theoretically, and needs no apology. moreover, i challenged you. come." and allard followed. it was, of course, impossible to question the emperor, but allard's anxiety nearly betrayed him into the indiscretion as adrian slipped on the cloak and led the way to a small private salon from which a staircase permitted reaching the street unobserved. for, in common with peter the great and harun-al-rashid, adrian occasionally indulged in rambles about his capital, incognito, and with allard for sole companion. it was a habit only a year old, of which even the omniscient stanief was ignorant. the emperor had made it a point of honor with his confidant to guard the secret absolutely; and many a bad hour had allard passed in consequence. no one suspected the true reason why the american had bought a compact, exquisite italian automobile during the summer before; or guessed the identity of the slim young chauffeur, masked and wearing the usual shapeless coat, who drove the machine through the streets at dusk or later. but it was a current tale for laughter in the clubs that monsieur allard had been arrested four times for over-speeding his car and each time had paid his fine without a murmur, himself assuming the blame and exonerating his chauffeur. perhaps, being young himself, allard also had enjoyed the variety and slight peril of these excursions. but then the city had lain quiet under the regent's strong hand, while now-- for once he was pleased to see dalmorov, who rose at their entrance into the salon. at least his presence proved that nothing wholly secret was intended. "the carriage is ready, baron?" adrian asked, drawing on his gloves with his leisurely decision of movement. "it waits at the lower door, sire." "very good. are you ready, allard?" "sire, i did not understand--" "well, you have always a coat here, i think." that was true, and taking a key from his waistcoat pocket allard silently opened the wardrobe that held their apparel for the motor trips. it was adrian's affair, not his, if the proceeding awakened dalmorov's ever-active curiosity. however, the baron's attention was fixed on the master, not the man; he was watching adrian with intent and crafty eagerness. he barely glanced at allard when he came back ready to go out. "i also may have the honor of accompanying your imperial majesty?" he urged. "no," adrian returned. "sire--" "no, dalmorov. come, allard." but allard stood still. "sire, dare i ask where?" he said, with firm respect. "to drive to the cathedral and observe the preparations for next week," was the dry explanation. "pardon me yet again; without escort?" "yes." "perhaps monsieur allard disapproves," suggested dalmorov sarcastically. "i do," allard declared, taking a step toward adrian and throwing back his head obstinately. "it is not fit for the emperor to go on the streets to-night. sire, i have talked with captain alisov of the guards and with zaliski of the secret police, and it is a seething frenzy of excitement out there. this morning's attack has brought to the surface the most dangerous elements in the capital. to-morrow all may be under control, but to-night it is not fit." "your affectionate solicitude overwhelms me, allard," adrian retorted. the irony and the allusion brought allard's color, but he maintained his position. "sire, i state a fact. there is real and serious danger in such a drive this evening. i beg you to consider seriously the event occurring at noon." "i am not feodor; the attack was on him. let him keep his house if the people make it necessary." this of the adored regent, for whom the whole empire mourned in bitter regret! it was too much. "sire, the attack this morning was intended for you," allard flung with exasperated bluntness. "when the assailant saw the grand duke, he shouted directions how to prevent the explosion. it was meant for you; all the court and city know it." adrian stood quite still, looking from one to the other. aghast at the introduction of rude truth, not venturing to deny what could be verified, dalmorov found no words. "for me?" the emperor repeated. "yes, sire. and for that i am amazed at baron dalmorov's willingness that you should go out." "it is safe," cried dalmorov furiously. "if you are afraid, monsieur allard, of your own tales, ask to be left here and let me attend his imperial majesty." if the statement regarding the morning had made any impression on adrian, he shook it off as soon as received. "so; suppose i adopt that suggestion, allard?" he remarked. "sire, if you go out i shall have the honor of going also." "if i choose that you shall," the emperor replied. his eyes afire, allard touched the star upon his coat. "if this gives me any claim to your consideration, sire, you will not refuse me the privilege of accompanying you. i did not speak for myself, indeed i think you scarcely believe so; i spoke because the imperial carriage will attract every eye and recognition will be certain. there is no one in the empire for whom the worst districts would be so dangerous as the brightest avenues will be for you, sire." "you invited me out into that, baron?" was the incredulous question. "because it is safe, sire. because the regent keeps the secret police on guard and i informed--" he checked himself abruptly. the comprehension that rushed to adrian's expression was far from pleased. "oh; i was to go out for a private tour of observation, surrounded by the secret police. all my compliments, dalmorov. it would doubtless have been safe, if somewhat misleading." "no, sire--" "let me explain, allard," he went on, mercilessly ignoring the baron's dismay at the exposure of his designs before stanief's friend. "dalmorov has long been interested in showing me the spirit of the capital and the necessity for various changes in the government. and regarding to-day as the climax of dissatisfaction with the regent's methods, he proposed a quiet drive through the principal streets as a means of gaging the public feeling. he suggested that i would find such a trip an amusing novelty." remembering their many expeditions allard's lips twitched, in spite of his indignant disgust at the intrigues which were dragging stanief down with myriad nets of cobweb spinning. "so i consented. the baron felt very strongly the conviction that the people themselves would prove to me the necessity of a different mode of rule at once. now it appears that his zeal deceived him, and we can very well wait to conclude affairs with dignity next week. that will do, dalmorov; the loving care that made you surround me with secret guards might also have impelled you to arrange the crowds from which i was to gather my opinion. i shall remain at home to-night. pray say so to the police with whom you and the regent annoy me, and send the carriage back to the stables." dalmorov waited an instant for the storm to settle. it was not the first stinging rebuke he had endured from the young autocrat, but he had the consolation of knowing that few or none of the court escaped the same infliction. "i acted from the purest motives," he began, with profound humility. "if my too-great anxiety has displeased your imperial majesty, i am grieved to the heart." adrian turned to him again, his brow quite clear. "nothing can alter my regard for you, my dear baron," he interrupted kindly. "only, do not interfere another time. go, do my errand; i shall spend this evening looking over some plans with allard. good night." there was a pause after the door closed. adrian stood slowly removing his gloves, which he abstractedly tossed with his cloak upon the nearest chair, and allard remained waiting patiently. with the latter's relief at the decision was mingled a vague wonder at the parting glance he had received from dalmorov. certainly worsted in the late passage of arms, the baron nevertheless had looked at his antagonist with malevolent and sinister triumph, a distinctly gratified hate. was it because he divined that the american suffered with stanief's hurt, and would go with him into voluntary exile? there seemed no other solution, yet-- "open the wardrobe and take out our wraps," adrian's matter-of-fact tones broke in upon the reverie. "i will walk to the garage with you, since the palace is watched, instead of letting you bring the car here." "sire!" gasped allard. "i told you after dinner that i was going out; i never change my mind. simply, dalmorov is eliminated. make haste, please." in despair of gaining more, allard obeyed, his brief satisfaction ended. resignedly he assisted adrian into his long coat and put on his own, finding what comfort he could in the fact that they had taken many such journeys undetected. in spite of his injunction to make haste, the emperor did not take at once his cap and gauntlets but remained dangling his mask by its ribbons and watching his companion's preparations. "allard," he said, "you have the faculty of finding yourself in posts of danger and making yourself famous. it is an art, or a destiny, that of being apropos. three years ago you acquired a scar and a star in protecting me; now you have repeated the exploit for feodor. come here." wondering, allard turned. "pardon, sire," he objected, "i did nothing at all for the grand duke. he himself destroyed the bomb; i merely looked on and tried to help." "ah? well, the grand duke and the rest of the capital do not agree with you. in the newspapers of several continents you are figuring as an example of self-possessed bravery and devotion to our house; probably you do not care, but the world must have its sensations. and since feodor can not give the tinsel toys that accompany such events, affairs are left in my hands. bend your head--so." he had lifted a slender, glittering cordon he himself wore, and deftly threw it around the other's neck with the last word. completely taken by surprise, allard had no time for retreat. "sire, i should prefer not!" he exclaimed decidedly, almost angrily. "i--the grand duke is my friend; such things have no place between us. forgive me, and allow me to decline." "i do not care in the least whether you prefer or not," adrian replied, with the most perfect indifference. "or whether you earned it or not. it is simply a question of dignity. this is expected of me, and i refuse to have it said that i place a higher valuation on my own life than on that of any one else. you will accept, and wear the order. of course you do not prize the plaything; neither do i. shall we go?" the presentation was sufficiently incongruous, indeed the whole scene was typical of adrian himself in its mingling of medieval and ultra-modern: the two men in their half-opened motoring coats, and beneath, the gleam of the quaint, ancient, gemmed symbols. and the emperor added the final touch by picking up the hideous goggled mask and putting it on. "let us go," he repeated. allard looked down at the pendant maltese cross of rubies as he buttoned his coat, then caught up gauntlets and cap, and went to open the door. "dare i offer my thanks after being so ungracious, sire?" he asked contritely. "if you choose. but i would rather have you remember in the future that i gave you the decoration before we took this drive, not after." it was useless to endeavor to understand adrian's enigmatical moods, but that sentence puzzled allard for many hours, whenever it recurred to him. the walk to the garage was accomplished as often before. several times they passed men whom allard recognized as belonging to the secret service, and doubtless passed many more whom he did not know, all letting the emperor's favorite go by, unquestioned, with his companion. but he sighed with relief when they finally reached the garage and he stepped into the low, silver-gray machine beside his pretended chauffeur. a man flung open the wide doors, adrian bent forward with truly professional ease and nonchalance, and they were out in the damp night air. through the humming, fevered city they slipped, merely one of many vehicles. the streets were filled with walking people, without destination or object, walking only from consuming restlessness or excitement. the murmur of countless voices rose above the throbbing voice of the automobile as it wound in and out among the crowds. on every corner men were collected in groups, noisy or quiet according to their class, but alike in grim earnestness. policemen and soldiers were everywhere; spurred by the emperor's threat, the chief of police was sifting the city grain by grain for the criminal of the morning. not to the cathedral did the gray car take its flight, and allard's amazement reached its culmination when they halted before one of the capital's main hotels, under the glaring electric lights. for the first time it dawned upon him that there was an object behind the apparent capriciousness of the trip. "i am to descend?" he hazarded, as his companion did not speak. "no; you are to wait for me." "i--you--" adrian deliberately stepped down and crossed the bright, crowded sidewalk into the lobby, deigning no explanation whatever. utterly stupefied, powerless to interfere, allard watched him; saw him hand a card to the attendant who advanced, then follow on into an elevator and disappear. the huge hall was filled with chatting men and women, many of them moving in the court or diplomatic circles; to the watcher's excited fancy it seemed impossible that they should not recognize the slight, erect figure; it seemed that adrian's identity cried out from every leisurely movement, every turn of the small imperious head. but presently the attendant returned alone, tranquil and smiling. it was fully an hour that allard waited, each of the sixty minutes an hour in itself. many of those passing knew and bowed to him; some came over to congratulate him on the day's escape or to ask questions concerning it. one or two ladies paused with their escorts to shower him with effusive compliments. knowing nothing of adrian's intentions, he dared not even assume the partial protection of his mask. the climax arrived with the vibrating roar of another automobile, which fell into silence behind him as count rosal came placidly around to greet his friend. "you, allard," he welcomed languidly. "i thought you were on duty every night." "not this evening; the emperor," he recollected the fiction told dalmorov, "the emperor is busy with some plans." "i have been with the regent. do you believe it, the accident has made him look years younger. there must be some tonic in gunpowder and sulphur fumes. but you, you appear rather upset and pale; or is it these abominable lights?" "it has been a hard day. i am too tired to be amusing, rosal." rosal put his foot on the running-board without the least sign of going away. "then why are you not at home?" he very naturally inquired. "because i had an errand; i was too nervous to rest." "waiting for some one?" "my chauffeur." rosal settled his eye-glass, extracted a case of cigarettes which he proceeded to offer to allard, and himself selected one of the contents. "tell me," he said confidentially, "is it true that the emperor took scarcely any interest in the regent's escape?" "no." allard watched a descending elevator with keen anxiety; the fear that adrian had been decoyed into some trap was becoming unbearable, yet it was impossible to go in search of him. "they say so at the palace, and all over the city. they say he did not even give a word of praise to you." aroused to justice as well as a desire to shield stanief, allard withdrew his eyes from the hotel entrance to regard his visitant. "does this seem so?" he demanded irritably, and pushed aside his coat to permit a glimpse of the fiery gem he wore. rosal's cigarette fell to the pavement; the idle patrician was well skilled in matters heraldic. "that!" he cried, dazzled and envious. allard shrugged his shoulders and leaned back. "were you going somewhere?" he asked. "oh, no; just trying to avoid being bored. every felicitation, my dear allard; that is superb. you have nothing to fear from next week, evidently. vasili told me yesterday that dalmorov was speaking so kindly of you that it positively alarmed him. the baron praised everything you had ever done, from the time you came aboard the _nadeja_ at new york. and he asked all manner of questions about the trip over and the grand duke's fondness for you." "yes?" allard responded absently. he could see an illuminated clock down the street, and he resolved that when the hand reached the hour he would defy adrian's order and go in quest of him. "yes. a jealous animal, dalmorov. new family; the title is only three generations old. i shall go to paris next week; he never liked me very much, and there is a new singer at the théâtre français. _tiens_, here is your man!" allard turned sharply, catching his breath. rosal, who knew the emperor so well,--could he be deceived? certainly he could not keep the secret if it were learned, not if the mines, exile and sudden death itself awaited his disclosure; every club in the capital could have afforded tales of "_ce bon bavard rosal_." adrian came through the vestibule and across the sidewalk with absolute composure. at rosal he barely glanced while raising his gloved hand in conventional salute to the owner of the car. "good night, rosal," allard said pointedly. rosal did not move from his position, blocking entrance to the machine and surveying the arrival with mild interest. "this is the chauffeur who drives over the limit about once a month?" he asked, with genuine continental and aristocratic insolence to a supposed inferior. "my man, do not apply to me for a position when your master tires of you; you are too expensive a luxury." adrian saluted imperturbably. "he is english, he understands no french," allard interposed. "really, rosal, i am in haste." "the emperor will want you? alisov told me his imperial majesty was particularly difficult to-day, so i do not envy you. he is never facile, eh? once more, congratulations." adrian's white teeth flashed in the electric light as he averted his face from the unconscious rosal and entered the automobile. he was still smiling under his mask when he sent the machine leaping forward. "i would have given a good deal to have heard your unbiased reply to that, allard," he remarked. "i fear you would not have been flattered, sire," was the grim answer. "i have spent an unendurable evening. let me implore you to return to the palace." "eventually. put on your mask; we are going driving." allard obeyed in dumb protest, his powers of remonstrance exhausted, and resigned himself to as disagreeable an hour's sport as he could imagine. but it was almost enough for the time being to feel his charge beside him in comparative security. as if impelled by perversity, adrian drove through one swarming avenue after another, across the square and down the street where the morning's attack had taken place, swinging finally into the dark, deserted park. too early in the season, too late at night, for promenaders, the quietness here was in vivid contrast to the scenes just left. tired out by excitement and strain, bearing the constant aching regret for stanief's setting star, allard had been gradually lulled into mesmeric quiescence by the shifting lights and shadows. and by a freak of exhausted nerves, it was old things thrust out of sight for years which took shape out of the dark and dragged their ugliness before him in a strange waking nightmare. he forgot the risk of accident, the danger of the return through the city, but he saw desmond's rugged face framed in the doorway of the cottage above the hudson and felt the anguish of the abandonment to worse than death. pictures of his trial rose persistently, details of the intolerably bitter months of prison lashed his pride. "you spoke?" adrian's cool voice broke in. "pardon, sire; an old pain caught my breath." unnoticed by one of its passengers, the automobile increased its speed, rocking softly from side to side, leaping with cat-like lightness the inequalities of the road. one might have imagined that the driver also fled from his own thoughts through the empty parkways. allard saw nothing; here in the heart of europe, by the emperor's side, the hateful gray walls had closed around him and he relived the unlivable. he was stifling, suffocating, with the sweet spring air singing past like a strong wind. a sharp whistle pierced above the whining purr of the motor, a shouted command. allard started up, bewildered, and the black mood fell from him as a muffling garment cast aside. they had emerged again into the city, at the same gait. "the police, sire," he warned reproachfully. "we must stop." "i will not. let them try to catch us." "they will know the car." "then we will pay the fine, to-morrow. if they threaten worse i will pardon you." the irony of that might have brought allard's laugh if he had not been distracted by the view ahead. "not possible, sire; there is a regiment crossing at the head of the square. if we are examined--" adrian sullenly shut off the power and came to a standstill. he had no desire to have his amusement ended and made an anecdote all over the empire. "tell them you are on my affairs," he directed, as the two pursuing officers galloped toward them. "or anything you choose. i will not go through a police station farce to-night, do you understand?" allard did laugh that time, the relief of waking to reality still tingling in his veins. "then i must go alone, if they insist. may i ask to take the driver's seat and claim his responsibility?" "for what? they would take the machine. do you expect me to walk alone to the palace?" "good heavens, no!" allard exclaimed vehemently. the two riders came panting up as adrian replied with an expressive shrug. "you are under arrest, messieurs," was the crisp announcement. allard leaned out into the light of the street lamp, taking off his mask and shaking his coat unbuttoned from top to bottom. perhaps a memory of rosal's admiration prompted the last move. "for over-speeding?" he inquired sweetly. "certainly; monsieur was going at least forty miles an hour." "ah, but my errand was important. i am monsieur allard, of the household of his imperial majesty." john allard's name was linked with stanief's on every tongue in the capital that night. moreover, he stood up as he spoke and his coat fell apart, revealing the confirming luster of jewels and his elaborately careful dress. "we are desolated, excellency," the man stammered. "oh, you were quite right, but i assure you that it would be a mistake to carry this further. i am on an errand for--some one not to be questioned. just fail to remember that you saw me, and there will be no trouble." he held out a hand in which a yellow coin gleamed alluringly. the officer coughed, and stooped. "yes, excellency. graciously excuse our stupidity; it is true that the light misled us as to the speed of your excellency's car." "exactly. good night." "good night, excellency." "allard, allard," drawled adrian, throwing his levers, "bribery and deception! and under my eyes." "i obeyed orders, sire," he retorted demurely. "may i drive?" "_la belle excuse!_ however, i admit the coercion. no, you may not drive; i will consider your reputation the rest of the way." this time they turned home, at a more modest pace. again they ran the gauntlet of the brilliant, sullen streets, and allard's heart lost a beat with each halt made necessary by the crowd or each glance from the knots of men gathered on the corners. at the sleepy garage they at last arrived, and left the automobile. it was but a short distance to the palace, and they walked in silence until almost before the door, when adrian paused for an instant. "you guard me so carefully, with so much energy, my inconsistent allard," he observed, the lighter manner of the last hours hardened into his usual coldness. "have you then not thought what it would mean to your beloved regent if i were removed?" "sire, if i thought of that it would be to guard you with double care," allard flashed, shocked and deeply wounded. "surely i owe so much." and after a moment, recovering a little, "for that matter, even the baron dalmorov admits the protection that the regent draws around your imperial majesty. sire, if the grand duke planned treason, has he not had ample opportunities before now?" "are you trying to convince me that some one still exists who possesses a sense of duty?" "perhaps you will more readily credit a sense of honor, sire." "perhaps. so it is a point of honor to take care of me?" "yes, sire." adrian turned and went on without comment. the guard at the door saluted allard without regarding the uninteresting figure of the chauffeur, and they passed into the safety of the palace. when they were once more in the little salon and had slipped off their wraps, the impression seized allard that his companion was rather pale and fatigued. either from the pallor or from recent excitement adrian looked younger than usual as he stood pushing back the dark hair disordered by his mask, and the watcher was pierced by remorse and something of stanief's wide pity for the one so warped by circumstance and environment. very kind to him the emperor had been, the emperor who next week would send away the only two men who cared for him and stand splendidly desolate in his treacherous court. the pathos of it beat down resentment. and being transparent, allard's gray eyes betrayed the softened thoughts as they encountered the other's. "well?" adrian questioned, as if to a spoken phrase. "you will not believe me, sire, but--i would guard you if nothing compelled." adrian made a movement of surprise, then smiled at allard with almost his cousin's charming grace. "why should i not believe you, who are truth itself? thank you, allard. pray come with me; it is time to rest, i fancy." allard hurriedly put away their motoring garments, and presently they went from the room. but the emperor was not one around whom gentle illusions long could cling; sword-like he slipped through such gauzy fabrics. as they parted for the night he regarded allard keenly, with even a suggestion of amused cruelty. "if you have found me indecorously frivolous to-night," he said, "remember how near we are to next week. it will be a robust sense of honor that survives next week, allard. you can not conceive how earnestly i desire my day for which i have waited so long." allard stiffened to the rigidity of self-control; comprehending all the allusion to stanief, he found no reply he dared give. chapter xviii the last week as the first week of the regency had been, so the last week was a dazzling confusion, a series of gorgeous pageants, a riot of semi-eastern splendor. but if this last held all the rejoicing and glory of the commencement of a new reign, it held also the deep regret and dread of the passing of a tested security. the empire loved stanief with grateful fervor, it feared adrian. even in the court were those who foresaw a return to old disaster in the rule of the unguided and wilful young sovereign. yet before stanief's own will all these elements were helpless. the court party proper triumphed, because the others lacked a leader. dalmorov and his followers, the officials held to strict account under stanief's stern government, the officers and ministers deprived of bribes and pillage, the jealous and chafing nobles, all these turned in snarling glee to watch the fall. through all the chaos stanief moved with a dignity never so great, carrying his head proudly above the conflict. still the power lay in his grasp, and firmly he held the seething country to a semblance of calm. many a shaft he received, many a veiled insolence and obvious taunt, growing bolder as the last beads slipped from his chain and the ungenerous enemies feared him less; but since the day of the attack he had borne himself like one who possesses a secret world of his own. by his side iría played her part, no less dreamily radiant. she at least met no bitterness except her own knowledge of the coming change; she had offended no one, and no one ventured to annoy the gentle princess whom adrian's love might yet hold above the wreck. but it was noted as significant that the emperor avoided seeing either her or her husband, so far as possible. the night before the coronation, allard escaped from the palace and went to stanief. adrian had released him earlier than usual, and he was furious before some new arrogance of the victorious party. "it is dalmorov again, and always," he declared savagely. "monseigneur, i never thought myself vindictive, but surely it is time for his reckoning. you once said you would crush him while you could; to-morrow--" "to-morrow i can not," stanief completed. "that is very true, john; to-morrow i can do nothing, nothing at all. _sic transit_--you know the rest." for the first time he had received allard in the apartments of the grand duchess, and iría was seated by her husband in rapt and silent content. they also had returned recently from the palace; the shining folds of iría's court dress lay over the floor in billows of rose-and-silver; again she wore the pearls whose tinted beauty echoed the soft luster of her face. "to-morrow!" allard exclaimed impetuously. "monseigneur, monseigneur, it is a quarter to twelve!" "so late? well, so i would have the day find us: together. my empire has shrunk to this room, yet left me a universe. for dalmorov, be satisfied. down in my desk are papers that can send him to a prison or a scaffold, as i choose. i have not been idle or forgetful; i thought of you." "and we waste time! we who count minutes," he sprang to his feet, afire. stanief rested his head against the back of the chair, quieting the other's energy with a curious smile. "my dear john, i have had those papers for two months; two months ago i sent to england the poor wretch who earned his pardon by aiding me to get them." stunned, allard gazed at him. "two months?" he repeated. "two months?" all the long catalogue of insults, annoyances and petty wrongs rose before him, the open warfare and secret insinuations; slowly he gathered comprehension of the singular expression with which stanief frequently had regarded his rival on such occasions. "perhaps i liked to play with him," the level voice resumed. "perhaps i did not care to deprive the emperor of his companion while i had still so much work to be done. but i think i waited because of a quixotic dislike to using my superior strength of position against an antagonist; to being both accuser and judge. i am not a child, i have no intention of letting him escape and work mischief undisturbed; simply i leave him to adrian's justice." "then you--" "i shall give the evidence to the emperor after the coronation and before i leave the city. if he chooses to pardon dalmorov, very good; my part is done. however, i would not value the baron's chances much. my cousin is--my cousin." "yes," allard admitted reluctantly, he too knew the steel-hard adrian. "only, it seems a pity to give him to-morrow." stanief laughed. "and i fancied you americans good-natured! let dalmorov go with all the glittering wreckage of my regency. i have found the better part." iría's little hand nestled into the one held out for it, and there fell a silence. allard looked at them, then sighing turned his head. the memory of theodora caught at his heart, theodora, who had loved robert and now grieved out her marred life, alone amidst the unvalued wealth so hardly bought. from the great cathedral pealed the first rich bell of the chime. iría lifted her finger in warning. "midnight," she said softly. stanief rose, and drawing her with him, crossed to push aside the curtains before the open window. "come," he bade allard. "the last night is gone. look at the city, john; the board of our royal chess, at which i admit checkmate." out over the velvet blackness studded with myriad points of light the three gazed quietly. already faint rumors of carnival awoke here and there. the capital stirred in its sleep with dreams of the morning, the morning whose sunrise would be greeted from every fortress and ship of the empire by seventeen guns. "never did the purple-and-gold sands slip less regretted from the hour-glass," said stanief, no faltering in the low tones which an hour before had carried dominion over a nation. "only one sorrow i have to-night, iría, when with you and john i lay down the life we know." she leaned closer against his breast, as if to throw her frail body across the gates of destiny. "and that one, feodor?" "adrian," he answered. "so near to my heart lay pride in proving my loyalty, in convincing him of it and living down the lying distrust sown by his father and the court, so strong was my determination to lift my honor above disbelief and wear my ward's confidence as a decoration in all men's eyes. and i dreamed of helping him bear the heavy charge laid upon his slim shoulders. fancies, boyish fancies wiser outgrown; i have learned better now." "the world knows," she whispered. "yes; or will know. but i loved adrian." the quiet words fell with the last distant chime of bells. listening, it seemed to allard that no reproach leveled at the young emperor could be so utterly hard to meet in the day of account as that wistful phrase. yet the spell of stanief's tolerance lay on him also; the picture before him was not that of the familiar, ruthless autocrat under whom he lived, but of adrian as he had stood in the little salon on the night of the drive, pushing back his tumbled dark hair with a gesture of infinite fatigue. chapter xix adrian's day brilliant in blue-and-gold the dawn opened over the capital. scarcely a breath of wind rippled the warm clear air of the spring morning, a morning designed for a country bridal among the scented fields or the waking of wild furry creatures in the woods, and which man was seizing for such different use. from the first deafening salute of cannon that ushered in the emperor's seventeenth birthday, the city was in a tumult indescribable. cavalry officers galloped through the swarming, flag-draped streets, gorgeous carriages blocked the avenues, marching regiments filled the air with military music. congratulatory messages, visits from foreign ambassadors, enforced audiences and preparations for the one great event, kept both palaces in kaleidoscopic movement and color. the old sense of unreality held allard from the moment when vladimir awakened him three hours earlier than usual to don a costume hitherto considered reserved for evening. his usual duties were temporarily missing, the emperor being formally attended to-day by those who had the hereditary right to that honor. not that he was forgotten, at which he was surprised and touched, but it was very strange to be summoned to adrian's bedside through an assembly of grave nobles and to speak a few brief words of felicitation under a fire of observation none too friendly. so often he had leaned against the foot of that pillared, curtained bed and amused with light chat of court or club the serene occupant who took his chocolate while listening interestedly. "thank you, allard," the emperor returned only in reply to his slightly confused speech, and the american was aware of the diverted, malicious comprehension of his embarrassment under the ordeal. but later he found his place carefully appointed in all the occurrences of the day, and realized the forethought with a gratitude and sense of obligation harder to bear than neglect. very difficult adrian was making his determination to follow stanief; allard knew now the pain of serving two masters. the morning proceeded, the events pacing on in dignified order. at noon fell a pause, city and court poised on tiptoe, and the magnificent procession moved from the palace toward the cathedral. it was all of mirage-like unsubstantiality to allard: adrian, strangely young and collected in his superb medieval robes, surrounded by his glittering nobles; stanief, hardly less dazzling than the emperor, with gemmed orders and cordons under which his white uniform almost disappeared; iría in her fairy royalty, these were the central figures of the pageant. the cheering crowds, the excitement and clamor, were merely a background. but once he met dalmorov's cruel, exultant eyes as the baron smiled across the unconscious stanief, and there was no more beauty in the scene. at last the dim richness of the cathedral received them, the cool, incense-freighted twilight of the vast building, the wilderness of columns and lofty jeweled windows. here the throng of witnesses was hushed, the organ tones fell soothingly after the noisy streets. the atmosphere of the place was infinite calm, and each ancient stone cried alike to victor and vanquished its garnered wisdom: "this, too, shall pass away." sighing, allard sank passively into contemplation of the spectacle, vasili by his side. many times he had visited the cathedral with the emperor, never again would he see it like this. for all its pomp and solemnity, the ceremony was not long. when at last adrian turned to face them, fully invested, when church and city rocked with acclamation, allard felt the first thrill of realization of what this meant. and he knew there was nothing the new sovereign could not do. "what is the matter?" questioned vasili. "why are you so sober; why are you so still? oh, you english, cold as a stone!" but allard did not hear, he was watching the next act in the splendid drama, when, as former regent and first kinsman of the emperor, stanief moved forward to offer his homage. "not here," allard implored mutely, his eyes on the golden central figure, his hands clenched with nervous dread for the one he loved. "surely, surely not even adrian will hurt him here, before these!" perhaps the thought of just how humiliating this could be made was also present in stanief's mind, perhaps some deeper emotion, for there was no trace of color in his firm dark face. intent, breathless, the church looked on at the meeting, an audience of courtiers and diplomats whom no slightest detail escaped. in her place iría laid one hand above her heart where, under velvet and satin, the tiny spanish cross still rested. it was over very briefly. as stanief would have sunk to his knee, adrian made a quick step forward and prevented the movement. "not to me, my cousin," he said quietly. "not now, at least." and he embraced the other with a touch that lifted the formality to a caress. the great mass of people remained absolutely still. one would have said there was not a breath drawn or a garment rustled. stanief himself faltered, shaken out of his stoicism and flushing heavily; it was a perceptible moment before he recovered and carried on his rôle. "_nom de dieu!_" gasped vasili faintly, clutching his companion's sleeve. "you saw, allard, you saw?" allard saw. he saw stanief's oath of allegiance given and received, he saw the second embrace which welcomed it; he heard the emperor's graceful speech of thanks for the long service completed now. but no one except stanief himself caught the murmured answer to the quaint, earnest phrases of feudal loyalty: "for the second time, feodor." and to the listener the cathedral faded momentarily at the reminder; the rose-hued salon of the _nadeja_ closed around. the rest of the affair passed more rapidly. adrian took iría's hands as she came to him and kissed her on both cheeks. after that the others came and went, the superb swirl and current rushed on. once only the eyes of allard and stanief met across the broad space, and if they exchanged wordless relief, they held no other feeling in common, for stanief had never trusted nor understood his cousin less, while allard had refound the adrian he knew--the adrian of evening drives and bitter-sweet kindness. in the departure from the cathedral there came a brief confusion and rearrangement. "you will ride with me," adrian said to his late regent, on the steps. "sire--" "take care; i am too new an autocrat for contradiction." so iría went surrounded by her butterfly ladies, and stanief rode by the emperor's side during that bewildering return. in the streets there was no high-bred reserve; seeing him there, the capital went into a madness of enthusiasm. the rest of the day, the state banquet, passed in no less dazzling excitement. but in the midst of all adrian found an instant to toss a word to allard. "is it 'almost,' or quite, to-day?" he demanded. happy, dazed, uncomprehending yet content, allard met the challenging eyes in an expressive glance; then for the first time in their years together, he impulsively stooped and touched his lips to the slim young hand. "not at all, sire," he answered most remorsefully. adrian's long lustrous eyes opened; perhaps no conquest of the day pleased him more. "come to me at five o'clock," he directed, and passed on. five o'clock. that hour had been generally accepted through the palace as the time when the emperor would withdraw to snatch a brief rest before the celebrations of the night. from long custom allard knew where the "come to me" signified, and very pleasant he found his return to the familiar routine. somewhat before the time appointed, he went to the octagonal library, the room now flooded with quivering pink light from the approaching sunset. a man turned from a window at his entrance. "ah, monsieur allard?" said dalmorov's thin, cutting voice, "pardon that i disturb you, dear monsieur, but the emperor requested me to meet him here, and so--" allard surveyed the lean and suave diplomat with his usual antagonism, but moved toward a chair instead of adopting the hint to retire. "i am here for the same reason, baron," he explained. "a wonderful day we have had, have we not?" "wonderful, indeed," dalmorov conceded viciously. "but the ides of march have not gone, monsieur." "what a suggestion for our young cæsar!" allard deprecated. "whom do you imagine as brutus, baron, in our peaceful empire?" "you misunderstood; i only pointed out the uncertainty of building upon one day." anxiety for stanief stabbed allard, always and only for stanief. yet his answer was light and sympathetic: "has to-day disappointed you? so sorry, _chèr_ baron." "no, monsieur; for the event of the day i shall most enjoy is just about to take place." "and my presence threatens to postpone it? it is too bad i can not do as you suggested, and leave." "not at all; it will increase my pleasure to have you here, monsieur allard. meanwhile, the favor of princes is uncertain, and a frail shield." again that coldly triumphant glance, the tightening of the lines about the thin lips. wilfully allard misapplied the last sentence. "oh, if my poor influence with the emperor can aid you, baron! you know how i esteem you." the click of the lock prevented the exasperated dalmorov's retort. stanief held open the door, then followed adrian into the room. there was no distinction of rank in the surprise with which the three men looked at one another, and from one another to the emperor who had brought them together. a thrill of startled expectation ran from each to the other like a thread of flame. adrian without his muffling draperies of cloth-of-gold was again the well-known figure of every-day. yet there was some subtle difference in his bearing, in the carriage of his small head, which left no doubt that the ceremony of the morning had been very real. it was characteristic that he went to his object without preamble or delay. "feodor," he said as he moved to the large central table, and the languid sweetness of his accent was a sufficient warning of danger to those who knew him, "it is unfortunate to be forced to mingle serious affairs with a day already so full, but baron dalmorov urges so vigorously the necessity for readjusting the government that i have consented. you will hardly believe that his anxiety leaves neither of us an hour's repose. will you assist us in this task?" "if i can, sire," stanief answered gravely. the kitten was playing with the mice; too well had the regent learned his deceptive ward for him to draw confidence from the emperor's courtesy during the day. "who else, cousin?" returned adrian, with exquisite grace. "who can do so well? how should the country continue without the wise hand that has guided it through these three years? pray reassure baron dalmorov by telling him that you will still hold in fact the power that nominally you resigned this morning, always aided by my loving support." allard grasped the back of a chair; so much even he had never hoped. stupefied, dalmorov gazed paling at adrian, who leaned tranquilly against the table, his lips curved in a very slight cold smile. "if you indeed speak seriously, sire, i can have but one reply," stanief said. "forgive me for the doubt." "since i have taught you it, why not? but the farce is over, the game closed. dalmorov, pray attend; possibly you also may be interested in the explanation that my cousin asks." for the first time his glance went that way. "at least you best can understand why this game has been played. for a game it has been, feodor. if a cruel one, why, our race is not gentle nor reared in tenderness. or to truth, remember that; your mother was an englishwoman. i give what i have received; you alone ever gave or asked of me frankness. take it now, if long delayed." he paused, his lashes fell as if his gaze went back and within. no one moved or spoke as the fire mounted visibly through his calm, shriveling his trained composure and beating against his self-control. "i love you, my cousin," he said, the quietness forced on his voice leaving it almost monotonous. "i loved you long ago in my lonely childhood, when your rare visits came like sunny flashes across my dreariness and i used to stand at my window to watch you ride by each day. i had no other affections to distract me; i loved you still, however unwillingly, when i went at night to the _nadeja_ three years ago. but you asked me to trust you, and my training had left me no trust to give. not that i did not want to trust you, for i did want to give that with a longing you scarcely can understand; but i could not, then. look back to then, feodor, for the commencement of the game ended now. loving you, distrusting all alike, i listened to you when you were with me and listened to your enemies when you were not, striving to reach the fact beneath in the only method i have seen practised. there could not have been a more unequal battle, yet at the end of the first year you had won. you and allard had convinced me that there did exist men different from my world. the vista widened for me; i caught a glimpse of a golden age within the one i so despised, the ancient breath of chivalry claimed life beside me. so the second year opened. the second year--" again the cold glance swept dalmorov. "how did you employ the second year, baron?" "sire--" with a shrug adrian turned from him; this time his eyes met his cousin's and held them. "i have not been happy, feodor," he resumed, the control not quite so perfect. "for one clean word of yours, a thousand poisonous speeches were poured into my ears; never a simple action of yours escaped being shown to me as hiding some sinister motive. when you brought order out of the chaotic country, they explained that you prepared your own empire; when you paid me your grave deference, they told me it was used to lull a fretful child until he could be removed. when you spoke of the day you would yield the sovereignty to me, they laughed. you guessed some of this? all of it you could not conceive, their incredible ingenuity of falsehood and false witness. and hate them as i would, a little of the venom clung. when the beginning of the third year arrived, i stood alone and surveyed it all; older at sixteen, cousin, than you will ever be. on one side lay the reeking swamp they made of life, on the other the firm white road and you. and i realized then that if you failed me, it would not be an empire i would lose, but a universe and a belief in god. ask allard some day how i spent last new year's eve." allard caught his breath; clearly it stood out in his memory,--that night when adrian had sent for him near midnight. "sleep, read, do what you like, but stay where i can see you," had been the curt command. and when dawn had opened grayly across the city, adrian was still pacing restlessly up and down the fire-lit room, his sorely puzzled companion still watching by the hearth. "for many months i had held one hope of a definite answer, feodor, a limit to uncertainty. 'after the coronation i will know,' i told myself. 'if he lays down the scepter, they have lied.' and dalmorov took from me even that. "'he will crown you,' he said, 'because so he can keep the faith of the people and yet rule the country through your weakness and love for him.'" stanief would have spoken, deeply moved, but adrian checked him while himself coloring with no less emotion. "wait still a little. i ask you to remember that never have i taken one step at the suggestion of your enemies or at the wish of this dalmorov whom you believed my friend. whichever of us succeeded to empire, i had the consolation of knowing he would fall. no one has stood between us; alone i decided upon my test and made it, because i had come to the point where i must choose between your world and theirs. i have called this a game--it was the trial of a faith. need i say the rest? the tax dispute gave the excuse, i feigned a break with you. my cousin, now can you measure the cost to me of the last year?" he paused for the answer, and finding it written in the mute stanief's eyes, went on more hurriedly. "no one knew the truth, although iría and allard nearly tempted me to confidence. i deprived you of the faintest hope of peace with me, i left you to the snarling hate and malice of the court; i even added to ingratitude the last insult of menace. through it all you moved steadily toward your goal, holding your head above us all. i have learned, at last. if i avoided you, feodor, it was because i felt my courage failing before yours. if i have spoken to you curtly, it was because i feared to say this too soon. if i refused to see you after the accident last week, it was because i was sick with horror at the nearness of losing you, because i was too near to ending the pretense of months just before its climax. and i had set my heart on standing with you, thus, and defying even this man to find an accusation that you have not answered. so," he took a step forward and passed his hand through stanief's arm, the last reserve swept away by his own vivid energy. "so, together; now speak, dalmorov, before you leave the capital. what selfish motive or hope led the regent to-day when he came to me in the cathedral?" at the two dalmorov looked, attempting no reply. not pleasant to see was his face in that moment. allard, quivering, radiant, found room to pity the outgeneraled and annihilated intriguer. "nothing?" insisted adrian, the voice so gentle to his cousin, merciless enough now. "nothing? feodor, you see my plaything; never again rate me so low as to credit me with such a favorite. the man who aspired to hold your place; who fancied us both victims of his clumsy intrigues; the man who never even perceived the contempt and dislike i scarcely troubled to conceal, look at him. dragged from his shadows into the sun, facing you, he has no longer one falsehood to offer." "sire," interposed stanief for very compassion, himself unsteadied by the happiness that makes generosity easy. adrian turned on him swiftly. "you? you, feodor? oh, it needed but that! thank the grand duke for his intercession, baron dalmorov, and go." the last humiliation was too much. sallow with defeat and bitter mortification, dalmorov collected himself to strike the only one within reach, the one through whom alone he could wound the others. "if it has pleased your imperial majesty to misunderstand, i may not say misuse, my devotion, i must submit," he said tremulously. "i can do nothing else." "no, i think not." "yet permit me to give a last service due to respect for my sovereign. my defense i leave to time. this nameless american whom it has pleased his royal highness to place near your person, sire, is not fit for such an honor. rather he should be in the mines." stanief started violently, his eyes flashing to allard, who kept his pose with a serenity drawn from utter helplessness. "take care, dalmorov," adrian cautioned sternly. the baron bowed. "sire, some months ago chance called me to this investigation. there passed through the city a gentleman who had visited the california allards a year before this man came here. the visitor declared that this was not the allard he knew, and no other member of the family had alluded to another absent one. naturally anxious and alarmed, i searched further. the officers of the _nadeja_ admitted that no one had seen the new secretary until one night his royal highness brought him hurriedly aboard, while the yacht lay opposite an american prison. at the exact hour of his arrival, the alarm was raised on shore of the escape of a convict. it is a singular coincidence, sire." "it is very uninteresting, baron. what of it?" "sire, only loyalty could make me continue. i obtained some journals of that date and a little later. the prisoner who escaped was not recaptured; and out in california the gentleman died whose honorable name this man claims. give me time, long enough to send to america, and i can find proof that your imperial majesty's favorite companion is the prisoner leroy masquerading as one who is not living to contradict him. why the grand duke placed him here, it is not for me to say." twice stanief had moved to speak, and each time the restraining hand on his arm had imposed silence. "hush, feodor; this is my affair," adrian said, divining the rebellion at this last before it could take speech. "baron dalmorov, with time you could no doubt make any proofs you desire; i have seen it done. we close this subject to-day. are you willing to relieve the baron's cares, allard?" so near the truth, and yet so far from it, had the accusation gone. it was not of himself allard thought at the moment, but of stanief, stanief, who had protected him and who must be shielded from the consequence. "sire, i am john allard," he replied, giving that fact with the appeal of sincerity. "the allard to whom baron dalmorov refers was my brother robert. for the rest, it is perfectly true that i was not in california the year before i came here. the american who did not recognize me was of course my brother's guest during my absence." "you do not comprehend," adrian corrected sweetly. "i never intended to ask you to defend yourself against this chain of absurdities. i do not admire your assailant's methods, and i adopt my own. i would ask if both you and dalmorov will be content with the evidence of a witness who knew the california allards beyond dispute." "certainly, sire," he answered, wondering, yet welcoming any course that led them from new york. "sire, if any californian identifies this man, of course my case fails," conceded dalmorov with his bitter smile. "but, it will not be so." "pray ring the bell, allard, twice," directed adrian. they waited in silence. adrian moved to a chair. stanief sought allard's eyes with the steadying message of his own, an intensity of reassurance and protection. in reserve he was holding his own power to ruin dalmorov, and he fiercely reproached himself with not having foreseen and used it before this could have happened. but allard showed no agitation to his keen watchers. it seemed to him that this had been closing around him for days, that he had felt the old things reclaiming him as the unseen net drew and tightened. now there was nothing he could do; the moment balanced, ready to fall either way at the light touch of chance. away from himself he laid the decision, before a higher tribunal than adrian's, setting all his life against one error. the speech of his thought was the same as it once was on the wharf before the hudson prison: "if i have paid--" quietly, with a dignity all unconscious, he awaited the judgment. a rustle of silken garments, a silver echo of a southern voice as the door opened, and iría was in the room, iría, flushed, smiling, and by her side a girl in white whom two of those present had never seen. as the duchess swept her graceful salute to the emperor, allard's cry rang through the place: "theodora! theodora!" his answer was given. the girl held out her hands as he sprang forward to clasp them; there existed no one else for either during the long moment when they remained gazing in each other's eyes with the hunger of years. [illustration: there existed no one else for either.] smiling, adrian moved forward a chair for iría, whispering a phrase in passing which sent the light blushes to her forehead as she glanced shyly at stanief. then, theodora slipping her fingers from allard's with confused recollection of their situation, the emperor claimed her attention. "mademoiselle leslie, let me present to you the baron sergius dalmorov, formerly of this court. and, since he appears suffering under a strange misconception, do me the favor of informing him who is the gentleman whom you have just greeted." evidently theodora knew adrian, for she answered his smile with trustful friendliness while acknowledging the introduction. "monsieur le baron, i am charmed," she said in her pretty, hesitating french. "this is my cousin, john leslie allard, whom i have not seen for many years. we grew up together; and in the pleasure of meeting him again--" "thank you, mademoiselle," interposed adrian. "let me complete the aid to your halting memory, dalmorov, and recall in monsieur allard my loyal friend of three years' trial, the gentleman who bears the scar and the decorations gained in defense of my life and my cousin's. several months ago you first hinted at this attack on him. knowing you very well, i obtained the necessary details from him under a pretext, and myself wrote to madame leslie suggesting that she bring mademoiselle here for the coronation. a week ago they arrived at the hôtel anglais, where i had the pleasure of visiting them one evening." he looked at allard in cool amusement, but it was something very far from amusement that rose in the gray eyes in answer to the memories of that evening. "we explained a few details to one another; since then they have been the guests of the grand duchess, who promised me secrecy." "i did not even tell you, feodor," murmured iría plaintively. "feodor will forgive you," assured adrian. "baron dalmorov, you have our permission to retire from the capital at once; you are not suited for court life. unfortunately you have broken no laws. i wish most sincerely that it were in my power to find some excuse for punishing you as i should enjoy; i have no doubt at least one exists. but you may go, and in future avoid the same city with me. that is all; i have waited a long while for to-day." stanief turned to allard, then expressively regarded the man who moved almost gropingly toward the door. "shall i give the excuse?" the glance asked. and allard's impulsive gesture answered. "has he not enough?" flashed the mute return. the door closed gently. chapter xx closed beyond, the marble arches, the brilliancy, the color and movement of the vast ball-room; here, the perfumed dusk of the conservatory's mimic garden, lighted by tiny jeweled lamps hung among the flowers. and over both atmospheres the dreamlike enchantment of the strange national music that adrian loved. sighing, allard leaned forward, his eyes delighting in contemplation of the girl opposite. "to see you like this! theodora, i have so sorrowfully pictured you as changed, as grieved and saddened out of the brightness i so longed to keep for you. and you are the same, always the same, dear." she smiled, half-tenderly, half in indulgent mockery. "but i am not the same, nor are you, john. i am twenty-five instead of nineteen, and much wiser than theo leslie used to be. while you--his excellency monsieur allard of the imperial household, is somewhat older and much more dignified, and a trifle more interesting. when i see you moving through this court with so much ease, in all your gorgeousness so naturally worn,"--she made a laughing gesture to the gemmed orders--"i think--i think perhaps it is well we have both grown." the truth of the judgment held him, and sent a startled hope. "if we have grown nearer, theo?" "i have tried to say--that. can you guess how mamma and i have followed you through scattered newspaper articles and items of european news? how we rejoiced and cried together when you saved the emperor from death and were yourself wounded, when your name was everywhere? you wrote so seldom, and never to me." "i thought you must hate me for leaving robert; i never forgot that." her vivid face grew serious, her eyes fell to the fan in her lap. "i could never have felt so, whatever you had done. john, the last morning he spoke to us, robert said that for us you had made a sacrifice we could not even conceive. he told us that we must never question you nor seek to know, but that you were above all blame. perhaps i had already guessed you were not happy, remembering the night before you went away." "there was never one like robert," he said, gratitude a pain. "theodora, i never wondered that you loved him." she stirred, the faint, familiar sweetness of sandalwood and rose was shaken from her laces by the movement; wide and very soft were the eyes she lifted to his. "i did not love him, as you meant. john, john, you were wrong." the conservatory wavered before his gaze; he rose impetuously and she with him. "wrong? then--" "you, john. oh, could you not tell a girl's playmate from her lover? robert read the truth; and i believe he was glad. john--" slowly, almost fearfully, he drew her to his arms. "wrong! oh, theo, it has all been wrong, and the fault mine! that out of it all should come to-day, my dear, my dear." presently she slipped from him, starrily radiant, leaving her hands in his as she looked up. "do you know how i found courage to tell you this, john?" "you knew i loved you all my life." "but it was so very long, so very long; you might have forgotten or changed. no, it was because the night he came to our hotel, the emperor told me that you cared for me still. 'that is why i brought you here, mademoiselle,' he said. 'what he gives once, he gives for ever, this allard of ours.' and so i ventured." allard looked out across the flower-draped arches to the ball-room beyond. stately, self-contained, stanief was moving down the floor between the parting throngs of guests, the gently glad iría at his side. from his seat adrian leaned forward to watch them, his keen, dark young face softened to a great content. "when we do wrong, sometimes we are allowed to make our payment, if we try," he said dreamily. "but how can we pay our debt of unearned happiness, theodora?" smiling, she drew nearer. "you have the man's justice, john; now learn the woman's art of graciousness. unquestioningly let us accept our gifts." he turned to her, flushing, and took her hands. "it is that! thank you, theo. the account is closed; the rest--commences." the end transcriber's note: all apparent mistakes in dialogue have been retained. italic text has been marked with _underscores_, while underlined text is marked with +plus signs+. the inca emerald +by samuel scoville, jr.+ the blue pearl boy scouts in the wilderness the inca emerald more wild folk the red diamond [illustration: from the heart of the jungle sounded the deep, coughing roar of a jaguar] the inca emerald by samuel scoville, jr. author of "boy scouts in the wilderness," "the blue pearl," etc. illustrated by charles livingston bull [illustration] d. appleton-century company incorporated new york london copyright, , by the century co. copyright, , by samuel scoville, jr. printed in u. s. a. to alice trumbull scoville my kindest critic contents chapter page i the beginning ii a new world iii the vampires iv death river v shipwreck vi the black tiger vii the yellow snake viii the man-eaters ix the pit x sky bridge xi the lost city xii eldorado list of illustrations from the heart of the jungle sounded the deep, coughing roar of a jaguar _frontispiece_ facing page "the bushmaster is the largest, rarest, and deadliest of south american serpents" it showed itself as the great condor of the andes, the second largest bird that flies hideous heads suddenly showed over the edge of the wall chapter i the beginning it was a bushmaster which started the quest of the emerald--and only a possible bushmaster at that. one may evening in cornwall, big jim donegan, the lumber-king, sat in the misty moonlight with his slippered feet on the rail of the veranda of the great house in which he lived alone. he was puffing away at a corn-cob pipe as placidly as if he did not have more millions than cornwall has hills--which is saying something, for cornwall has twenty-seven of the latter. along the gravel walk, which wound its way for nearly half a mile to the entrance of the estate, came the sound of a dragging footstep. a moment later, from out of the shadows stepped a man over six feet in height, a little stooped, and who wore a shiny frock-coat surmounted by a somewhat battered silk hat. the stranger had a long, clean-shaven, lantern-jawed face. his nose jutted out like a huge beak, a magnificent, domineering nose, which, however, did not seem in accord with his abstracted blue eyes and his precise voice. "what do you want?" snapped big jim, bringing his feet to the floor with alarming suddenness. the stranger blinked at him mildly for a moment with a gaze that seemed to be cataloguing the speaker. "this is mr. james donegan," he finally stated. "how do you know?" demanded the lumber-king. "you have all the characteristics of a magnate," returned the other, calmly, "energy, confidence, bad temper, worse manners, and--" "whoa!" shouted big jim, whose bark was worse than his bite and who always respected people who stood up to him. "never mind any more statistics. who are you!" "my name is ditson," responded the other, sitting down without invitation in the most comfortable chair in sight. "professor amandus ditson. i am connected with the smithsonian national museum." "well," returned mr. donegan, stiffening, "i don't intend to subscribe any money to the smithsonian museum or any other museum, so there's no use of your asking me." "i had no intention of asking you for anything," returned professor ditson, severely. "i had understood that you were a collector of gems, and i came to place at your disposal certain information in regard to the finest emeralds probably now in existence. i too am a collector," he went on abstractedly. "humph!" grunted big jim. "what do you collect?" he inquired, regarding his visitor shrewdly. "bushmasters," responded professor ditson, simply. "come again," returned big jim, much puzzled, "i don't quite get you. what are bushmasters?" "the bushmaster," announced professor ditson, with more animation than he had yet shown, "is the largest, the rarest and the deadliest of south american serpents. it attains a length of over twelve feet and has fangs an inch and a half long. you will hardly believe me," he went on, tapping mr. donegan's knee with a long, bony forefinger, "but there is not a single living specimen in captivity at present, even in our largest cities." the lumber-king regarded the scientist with undisguised astonishment. "professor amandus ditson," he announced solemnly, "so far as i'm concerned, there can continue to be a lack of bushmasters not only in our great cities, but everywhere else. snakes of any kind are absolutely nothing in my young life." [illustration: "the bushmaster is the largest, rarest, and deadliest of south american serpents"] "tut! tut!" responded the professor, reprovingly. "i think that i could convince you that you are wrong in your unfortunate aversion to reptiles." "no you couldn't," returned big jim, positively, "not if you were to lecture all the rest of the year." "well," responded professor ditson soothingly, "suppose we discuss your hobby, which i understand is precious stones." "now you're talking," returned the other, enthusiastically, "i suppose i've about the finest collection of gems in this country, and in some lines perhaps the best on earth. take pearls, for instance," he boasted. "why, professor ditson, some boys right here in cornwall helped me get the finest examples of pink and blue pearls that there are in any collection. when it comes to emeralds, there are half a dozen collectors who beat me out. what's all this dope you have about them, anyway?" "last year," replied the other, "i was in peru at a time when they were repairing one of the oldest cathedrals in that country. a native workman, knowing that i was interested in rarities of all kinds, brought me an old manuscript, which turned out to be a map and a description of the celebrated lake of eldorado." "that's the name of one of those dream places," interrupted mr. donegan, impatiently. "i've no time to listen to dreams." professor ditson was much incensed. "sir," he returned austerely, "i deal in facts, not in dreams. i have traveled one thousand miles to see you, but if you can not speak more civilly, i shall be compelled to terminate this interview and go to some one with better manners and more sense." "just what i was going to suggest," murmured big jim, taken aback, but much pleased by the professor's independence. "so long, however, as you've beat me to it, go on. i'll hear you out anyway." professor ditson stared at him sternly. "for nearly four hundred years," he began at last, "there have been legends of a sacred lake somewhere in bolivia or peru. once a year, before the spanish conquest, the chief of the incas, the dominant race of peru, covered with gold-dust, would be ferried out to the center of this lake. there he would throw into the lake the best emerald that had been found in their mines during the year and then leap in himself. at the same time the other members of the tribe would stand on the shores with their backs to the lake and throw into the water over their shoulders emeralds and gold ornaments." "why on earth did they do that?" exclaimed the old collector. "as an offering to the spirit of the lake," returned the professor. "the spaniards, when they heard the story, named the lake, eldorado--the lake of the golden man. as the centuries went by, the location was lost--until i found it again." there was a long pause, which was broken at last by the lumber-king. "have you any proof that this story of yours is true?" he inquired sarcastically. for answer, the scientist fished a dingy bag from his pocket and shook out on the table a circlet of soft, pale gold in which gleamed three green stones. "i found this ten feet from the shore," he said simply. the lumber-king gasped as he studied the stones with an expert eye. "professor ditson," he admitted at last, "you're all right and i'm all wrong. that's south american gold. i know it by the color. african gold is the deepest, and south american the palest. those stones are emeralds," he went on; "flawed ones, to be sure, but of the right color. the common emerald from the ural mountains is grass-green," lectured mr. donegan, fairly started on his hobby. "a few emeralds are gray-green. those come from the old mines of the pharaohs along the coast of the red sea. they are found on mummies and in the ruins of pompeii and along the beach in front of alexandria, where treasure-ships have been wrecked." professor ditson yawned rudely. "once in a blue moon," went on the old collector, earnestly, "a real spring-green emerald with a velvety luster, like these stones, turns up. we call 'em 'treasure emeralds,'" he continued, while professor ditson shifted uneasily in his chair. "most of them are in spanish collections, and they are supposed to be part of the loot that cortez and pizarro brought back to spain when they conquered mexico and peru. how large did these old peruvian emeralds run?" he inquired suddenly. he had to repeat this question before professor ditson, who had been dozing lightly, roused himself. "ah yes, quite so, very interesting, i'm sure," responded that scientist, confusedly. "as to the size of south american emeralds," he went on, rubbing his eyes, "the spanish record shows that pizarro sent back to spain several which were as large as pigeon eggs, and there is a native tradition that the last inca threw into eldorado an oval emerald as large as a hen's egg." donegan's face flushed with excitement. "professor ditson," he said at last, "i've got to have one of those emeralds. come in," he went on, getting up suddenly, "and i'll show you my collection." professor ditson sat still. "no, mr. donegan," he said, "it would be just a waste of time. to me, gems are just a lot of colored crystals." the old lumber-king snorted. "i suppose you prefer snakes," he said cuttingly. professor ditson's face brightened at the word. "there," he said enthusiastically, "is something worth while. i only wish that i had you in my snake-room. i could show you live, uncaged specimens which would interest you deeply." "they sure would," returned mr. donegan, shivering slightly. "well," he went on, "every man to his own taste. what's your idea about this emerald secret? can we do business together?" the professor's face assumed an air of what he fondly believed to be great astuteness. "i would suggest," he said, "that you fit out an expedition to the amazon basin under my direction, to remain there until i collect one or more perfect specimens of the bushmaster. then i will guide the party to eldorado and assist them, as far as i can, to recover the sunken treasure." he came to a full stop. "well," queried the lumber-king, "what else?" the professor looked at him in surprise. "i have nothing else to suggest," he said. "suppose we get emeralds which may be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars--what percentage will you claim?" persisted mr. donegan. "i thought that i had made it plain," returned the professor, impatiently, "that i have no interest whatever in emeralds. if you will pay the expenses of the expedition and allow me to keep as my own property any specimens of bushmasters obtained, it will be entirely satisfactory to me. of course," finished the scientist, generously, "if we catch several bushmasters, i should have no objections to your having one." "heaven forbid!" returned the lumber-king. "professor," he went on with great emphasis, "i am perfectly willing that you shall have absolutely for your own use and benefit any and all bushmasters, crocodiles, snakes, toads, tarantulas, and any other similar bric-à-brac which you may find in south america. moreover," he continued, "i'll fit out an expedition right here from cornwall that will do the business for both of us. there's a good-for-nothin' old chap in this town named jud adams who has been all over the north huntin' an' trappin' an' prospectin'. in his younger days he was a pearl-diver. then there're two young fellows here that went off last year with him for me and brought back the finest blue pearl in the world. i ain't got no manner of doubt but what all three of 'em will jump at the chance to go after emeralds and bushmasters." "bushmasters and emeralds, please," corrected the professor. "just as you say," responded the lumber-king. "now you come right in and i'll put you up for the night and we'll send over at once for the crowd that i have in mind and get this expedition started right away." "the sooner the better," responded the professor, heartily. "any day, some collector may bring back a bushmaster and beat me out with the smithsonian." "i feel the same way," agreed the lumber-king. "i want jim donegan to have the first crack at those inca emeralds." * * * * * while all this talk about gold and emeralds and bushmasters was going on in big jim's big house, over in a little house on the tiptop of yelpin hill, jud adams, the old trapper, was just sitting down to supper with two of his best friends. one of these was will bright, a magnificently built boy of eighteen with copper-colored hair and dark blue eyes, and the other his chum, joe couteau, silent, lithe, and swart as his indian ancestors. jud himself was not much over five feet tall, with bushy gray hair and beard and steel-sharp eyes. these three, with fred perkins, the runner, had won their way to goreloi, the island of the bear, and brought back jim donegan's most prized gem, as already chronicled in "the blue pearl." they had learned to care for one another as only those can who have fought together against monsters of the sea, savage beasts, and more savage men. joe and will, moreover, had shared other life-and-death adventures together, as told in "boy scouts in the wilderness," and, starting without clothes, food, or fire, had lived a month in the heart of the woods, discovered the secret of wizard pond, and broken up scar dawson's gang of outlaws. will never forgot that joe had saved him from the carcajou, nor joe that it was will who gave him the first chance of safety when the bloodhounds were hot on their heels through the hidden passage from wizard pond. each one of the four, as his share of the blue pearl, and the sea-otter pelt brought back from akotan, had received fifteen thousand dollars. fred had invested his money in his brother's business in boston, left cornwall, and bade fair to settle down into a successful business man. will and joe had both set aside from their share enough to take them through yale. as for jud, the day after he received his winnings in the game which the four had played against danger and death, he had a short interview with his old friend mr. donegan. "all my life long," began jud, "i've been makin' money; but so far, i haven't got a cent saved up. i know how to tame 'most any other kind of wild animal, but money allers gets away from me. they do say, jim," went on the old man, "that you've got the knack of keepin' it. probably you wouldn't be worth your salt out in the woods, but every man's got somethin' that he can do better 'n most. so you just take my share of the blue-pearl money an' put it into somethin' safe an' sound that'll bring me an income. you see, jim," he went on confidentially, "i ain't so young as i used to be." "i should say you ain't!" exclaimed big jim, knowing how jud hated to be called old. "you're 'most a hundred now." "i ain't! i ain't!" howled jud, indignantly. "i ain't a day over fifty--or thereabouts." "well, well," said his friend, soothingly, "we won't quarrel over it. i'll take care of your money and see that you get all that's comin' to you for the two or three years which you've got left"; and with mutual abuse and affection the two parted as good friends as ever. to-night the old trapper and his guests had just finished supper when the telephone rang. "jud," came mr. donegan's voice over the wire, "what would you and bill and joe think of another expedition--after emeralds this time?" "we'd think well of it," returned jud, promptly. "the kids are here at my house now." "good work!" exclaimed the lumber-king. "all three of you come right over. i've got a scientist here who's going to guide you to where the emeralds grow." "you got a what?" queried jud. "a scientist!" shouted big jim, "a perfesser. one of those fellows who know all about everything except what's useful." "we'll be right over," said jud, hanging up the receiver and breaking the news to his friends. "listens good," said will, while joe grunted approvingly. "it's a pity old jim ain't young and supple enough to go on these trips with us himself," remarked jud, complacently. "he ten years younger than you," suggested joe, slyly, who always delighted in teasing the old trapper about his age. "where do you get such stuff?" returned jud, indignantly. "jim donegan's old enough to be my father--or my brother, anyway," he finished, staring sternly at his grinning guests. "you're quite right, jud," said will, soothingly. "let's go, though, before that scientist chap gets away." "he no get away," remarked joe, sorrowfully, who had listened to the telephone conversation. "he go with us." "i don't think much of that," said jud, wagging his head solemnly. "the last perfesser i traveled with was while i was prospectin' down in arizona. he sold a cure for snakebites an' small-pox, an' one night he lit out with all our cash an' we never did catch him." half an hour later found the whole party in mr. donegan's study, where they were introduced to professor ditson. "what might you be a perfesser of?" inquired jud, staring at him with unconcealed hostility. the other stared back at him for a moment before he replied. "i have specialized," he said at last, "in reptiles, mammals, and birds, besides some research work in botany." "didn't leave out much, did you?" sneered jud. "also," went on the professor, more quietly, "i learned early in life something about politeness. you would find it an interesting study," he went on, turning away. "now, now," broke in mr. donegan, as jud swallowed hard, "if you fellows are going treasure-hunting together, you mustn't begin by scrappin'." "i, sir," returned professor ditson, austerely, "have no intention of engaging in an altercation with any one. in the course of collecting-trips in the unsettled portions of all four continents, i have learned to live on good terms with vagabonds of all kinds, and i can do it again if necessary." "exactly!" broke in mr. donegan, hurriedly, before jud could speak; "that certainly shows a friendly spirit, and i am sure jud feels the same way." "i do," returned the latter, puffingly, "just the same way. i got along once with a perfesser who was no darn good, and i guess i can again." "then," said mr. donegan, briskly, "let's get down to business. professor ditson, show us, please, the map and manuscript with which you located lake eldorado." for reply, the gaunt scientist produced from a pocket a small copper cylinder, from which he drew a roll of yellowed parchment. half of it was covered with crabbed writing in the imperishable sepia ink which the old scriveners used. the other half was apparently blank. the lumber-king screwed his face up wisely over the writing. "h'm-m," he remarked at last. "it's some foreign language. let one of these young fellers who're going to college try." will took one look at the paper. "i pass," he said simply; while joe shook his head without even looking. "you're a fine lot of scholars!" scoffed jud, as he received the scroll. "listen now to perfesser adams of the university of out-of-doors." then, to the astonishment of everybody, in his high-pitched voice he began to translate the labored lines, reading haltingly, like a school-boy: "i, alvarado, companion of pizarro, about to die at dawn, to my dear wife oriana. i do repent me of my many sins. i am he who slew the inca atahualpa and many of his people, and who played away the sun before sunrise. now it comes that i too must die, nor of the wealth that i have won have i aught save the secret of eldorado. on a night of the full moon, i myself saw the golden man throw into the lake the great emerald of the incas and a wealth of gold and gems. this treasure-lake lies not far from orcos in which was thrown the chain. i have drawn a map in the way thou didst show me long years ago. take it to the king. there be treasure enough there for all spain; and through his justice, thou and our children shall have a share. forgive me, oriana, and forget me not. alvarado" there was a silence when he had finished. it was as if the shadow of the tragedy of that wasted life and vain repentance had drifted down the centuries and hung over the little company who had listened to the reading of the undelivered letter. the stillness was broken by mr. donegan. "where did you learn to read spanish, you old rascal?" he inquired of jud. "down among the greasers in mexico," chuckled the latter, delightedly. "what does he mean by 'playing away the sun' and the 'chain'?" asked will, of the scientist. "when the treasures of the incas were divided," explained professor ditson, precisely, "alvarado had for his share a golden image of the sun over ten feet in diameter. this he gambled away in a single night. the chain," continued professor ditson, "surrounded the chief inca's residence. it was made of gold, and was two hundred and thirty-three yards long. it was being carried by two hundred indians to cuzco to form part of the chief's ransom--a room filled with gold as high as he could reach. when the gold came to his shoulder, he was killed. at the news of his death, the men who were bringing the chain threw it into lake orcos." "but--but," broke in the lumber-king, "where is the map? if you've got it with you, let's have a look at it." without speaking, professor ditson reached over and took the match from the table. lighting it, he held the flame for an instant close to the parchment. on the smooth surface before their eyes, suddenly appeared a series of vivid green lines, which at last took the form of a rude map. "what he learned from oriana," explained professor ditson, "was how to make and use invisible ink." "fellows," broke in mr. donegan, earnestly, "i believe that professor ditson has found eldorado, and i'm willing to go the limit to get one of the emeralds of the incas. i'll finance the expedition if you'll all go. what do you say?" "aye," voted will. "aye," grunted joe. "i assent," said professor ditson, with his usual preciseness. jud alone said nothing. "how about it, jud?" inquired big jim. "well," returned jud, doubtfully, "who's goin' to lead this expedition?" "why, the professor here," returned the lumber-king, surprised. "he's the only one who knows the way." "that's it," objected jud. "it's likely to be a rough trip, an' treasure-huntin' is always dangerous. has the perfesser enough pep to keep up with us younger men?" professor ditson smiled bleakly. "i've been six times across south america, and once lived among the south american indians for two years without seeing a white man," he remarked acidly. "perhaps i can manage to keep up with an old man and two boys who have never been in the country before. you should understand," he went on, regarding the old trapper sternly, "that specialization in scientific investigation does not necessarily connote lack of physical ability." jud gasped. "i don't know what he means," he returned angrily, "but he's wrong--specially that part about me bein' old." "i feel it is my duty to warn you," interrupted professor ditson, "that this trip may involve a special danger outside of those usual to the tropics. when i was last in peru," he went on, "i had in my employ a man named slaughter. he was an expert woodsman, but sinister in character and appearance and with great influence over the worst element among the indians. one night i found him reading this manuscript, which he had taken from my tent while i was asleep. i persuaded him to give it up and leave my employ." "how did you persuade him?" queried jud, curiously. "automatically," responded professor ditson. "at least, i used a colt's automatic," he explained. "his language, as he left, was deplorable," continued the scientist, "and he declared, among other things, that i would have him to reckon with if i ever went again to eldorado. i have no doubt that through his indian allies he will be advised of the expedition when it reaches peru and make trouble for us." "what did he look like?" inquired mr. donegan. "he was a giant," replied professor ditson, "and must have been over seven feet in height. his eyebrows made a straight line across his forehead, and he had a scar from his right eye to the corner of his jaw." "scar dawson!" shouted will. "you don't mean the one who nearly burned you and joe alive in the cabin?" said the lumber-king, incredulously. "it must be," said will. "no other man would have that scar and height. i'll say 'some danger' is right," he concluded, while joe nodded his head somberly. "that settles it!" said jud. "it's evident this expedition needs a good man to keep these kids out of trouble. i'm on." chapter ii a new world a week later found the whole party aboard of one of the great south american liners bound for belem. the voyage across was uneventful except for the constant bickerings between jud and professor ditson, in which will and joe acted sometimes as peace-makers and sometimes as pace-makers. then, one morning, will woke up to find that the ocean had changed overnight from a warm sap-green to a muddy clay-color. although they were not within sight of land, the vast river had swept enough earth from the southern continent into the ocean to change the color of the water for a hundred miles out at sea. just at sunrise the next day the steamer glided up the amazon on its way to the old city of belem, seventy miles inland. "the air smells like a hot, mouldy cellar!" grumbled jud; and soon the cornwall pilgrims began to glimpse things strange and new to all three of them. groups of slim assai-palms showed their feathery foliage; slender lianas hung like green snakes from the trees; and everywhere were pineapple plants, bread-fruit trees, mangos, blossoming oranges and lemons, rows of enormous silk-cotton trees, and superb banana plants, with glossy, velvety green leaves twelve feet in length curving over the roof of nearly every house. beyond the city the boys had a sight of the jungle, which almost without a break covers the greater part of the amazon basin, the largest river-basin on earth. they landed just before sunset, and, under professor ditson's direction, a retinue of porters carried their luggage to the professor's house, far down the beach, the starting-point for many of his south american expeditions. as the sun set, the sudden dark of the tropics dropped down upon them, with none of the twilight of higher latitudes. jud grumbled at the novelty. "this ain't no way to do," he complained to professor ditson. "the sun no more than goes down, when bang! it's as black as your hat." "we'll have that seen to at once," responded the professor, sarcastically. "in the meantime, be as patient as you can." with the coming of the dark, a deafening din began. frogs and toads croaked, drummed, brayed, and roared. locusts whirred, and a vast variety of crickets and grasshoppers added their shrill note to the uproar, so strange to visitors and so unnoticed by natives in the tropics. "hey, professor!" shouted jud, above the tumult, "what in time is all this noise, anyway?" "what noise?" inquired professor ditson, abstractedly. the old trapper waved both hands in a circle around his head and turned to the boys for sympathy. "sounds like the cornwall drum and fife corps at its worst!" he shrieked. "what do you mean, jud?" said will, winking at joe. "poor jud!" chimed in the latter, shaking his head sadly, "this trip too much for him. he hearing noises inside his head." for a moment, jud looked so horrified that, in spite of their efforts to keep up the joke, the boys broke down and laughed uproariously. "you'll get so used to this," said professor ditson, at last understanding what they were talking about, "that after a few nights you won't notice it at all." at the professor's bungalow they met two other members of the expedition. one of these was hen pine, a negro over six feet tall, but with shoulders of such width that he seemed much shorter. he had an enormous head that seemed to be set directly between his shoulders, so short and thick was his neck. hen had been with professor ditson for many years, and, in spite of his size and strength, was of a happy, good-natured disposition, constantly showing his white teeth in irresistible smiles. pinto, professor ditson's other retainer, was short and dark, an indian of the mundurucu tribe, that warlike people which early made an alliance of peace with the portuguese pioneers of brazil which they had always scrupulously kept. pinto had an oval aquiline face, and his bare breast and arms had the cross-marks of dark-blue tattooing which showed him to have won high rank as a warrior on the lonely river of the tapirs, where his tribe held their own against the fierce mayas, those outlawed cannibals who are the terror of the south american forest. that evening, after dinner, professor ditson took jud and the boys out for a walk along the beach which stretched away in front of them in a long white curve under the light of the full moon. the night was full of strange sounds, and in the sky overhead burned new stars and unknown constellations, undimmed even by the moonlight, which showed like snow against the shadows of the jungle. professor ditson pointed out to the boys agena and bungula, a noble pair of first-magnitude stars never seen in the north, which flamed in the violet-black sky. as they looked, will remembered the night up near wizard pond before the bear came, when joe had told him indian stories of the stars. to-night, almost overhead, shone the most famous of all tropical constellations, the southern cross. professor ditson told them that it had been visible on the horizon of jerusalem about the date of the crucifixion. from that day, the precession of the equinoxes had carried it slowly southward, and it became unknown to europeans until amerigo vespucci on his first voyage saw and exultantly wrote that he had seen the "four stars," of which the tradition had lingered. the professor told them that it was the sky-clock of the tropics and that sailors, shepherds, and other night-wanderers could tell the time within fifteen minutes of watch-time by the position of the two upper stars of this constellation. "it looks more like a kite than a cross," interjected jud. "what's that dark patch in the milky way?" he inquired, pointing to a strange black, blank space showing in the milky glimmer of the galaxy. "that must be the coal-sack," broke in will, before professor ditson could reply. "i remember reading about it at school," he went on. "when magellan sailed around cape horn, his sailors saw it and were afraid that they would sail so far south that the sky wouldn't have any stars. what cheered them up," went on will, "was the sight of old orion, which stays in the sky in both hemispheres," and he pointed out the starry belt to jud and joe, with the sky-king sirius shining above it instead of below as in the northern hemisphere. as jud and the boys stared up at the familiar line of the three stars, with rose-red betelgeuse on one side and fire-white rigel on the other, they too felt something of the same comfort that the old-time navigators had known at the sight of this constellation, steadfast even when the great bear and the pole star itself had faded from the sky. as they continued to gaze upward they caught sight of another star, which shone with a wild, blue gleam which rivaled the green glare of the dog-star, sirius. professor ditson told them that it was canopus, mohammed's star, which he thought led him to victory, even as napoleon believed that the planet venus, seen by daylight, was his guiding star. then the professor traced for them that glittering river of stars, eridanus, and showed them, guarding the southern horizon, gleaming achernar, the end of the river, a star as bright as is arcturus or vega in the northern sky. then he showed them fomalhaut, of the southern fish, which in the north they had seen in the fall just skipping the horizon, one of the faintest of the first-magnitude stars. down in the southern hemisphere it had come into its own and gleamed as brightly near this northern horizon as did achernar by the southern. it was will who discovered the magellanic clouds, like fragments of the milky way which had broken up and floated down toward the south pole. these had been also seen and reported by magellan on that first voyage ever taken around the world four hundred years ago. farther up the beach, jud and the boys came to a full stop. before them towered so high that the stars seemed tangled in its leaves a royal palm, one of the most magnificent trees on earth. its straight, tapered shaft shot up over a hundred and twenty-five feet and was crowned with a mass of glossy leaves, like deep-green plumes. as it touched the violet sky with the full moon rising back of its proud head, it had an air of unearthly majesty. beneath their feet the beach was covered with "angel-wings," pure white shells eight inches long, shaped like the wings of angels in old pictures. with them were beautifully tinted tellinas, crimson olivias with their wonderful zigzag, tentlike color patterns, large dosinias round as dollars, and many other varieties, gold, crimson, and purple. some distance down the beach the professor kept a large canoe, in which the whole party paddled out into the bay. as they flashed over the smooth surface, the clamor of the night-life dwindled. suddenly, from the bushes on a little point, sounded a bird-song which held them all spellbound, a stream of joyous melody, full of rapid, ringing notes, yet with a purity of tone which made the song indescribably beautiful. it seemed to include the ethereal quality of the hermit-thrush, the lilt and richness of the thrasher, and the magic of the veery's song, and yet to be more beautiful than any or all of them together. on and on the magic melody flowed and rippled, throbbed and ebbed in the moonlight. suddenly it stopped. then from the same thicket burst out a medley of different songs. some of them were slow and mellow. others had silvery, bell-like trills. there were flutelike calls, gay hurried twitterings, and leisurely delicious strains--all of them songs of birds which the cornwall visitors had never even heard. then will, the ornithologist of his party, began to hear songs which were familiar to him. there was the musical chuckle of the purple martin, the plaintive call of the upland plover, the curious "kow-kow" of the yellow-billed cuckoo, and the slow, labored music of the scarlet tanager. suddenly all of them ceased and once again the original song burst out. "that thicket must be chuck-full of birds," whispered jud. professor ditson shook his head. "it's only one bird," he said, "but the greatest singer of all the world--the white banded mocking bird." even as he spoke, the songster itself fluttered up into the air, a brown bird with a white throat, and tail and wings broadly banded with the same color. up and up it soared, and its notes chimed like a golden bell as its incomparable song drifted down through the moonlight to those listening below. then on glistening wings the spent singer wavered down like some huge moth and disappeared in the dark of the thicket. in the silence that followed, will drew a deep breath. "i'd have traveled around the world to hear that song," he half whispered. professor ditson nodded his head understandingly. "many and many an ornithologist," he said, "has come to south america to listen to that bird and gone away without hearing what we have heard to-night. between his own two songs," went on the professor, "i counted the notes of seventeen other birds of both north and south america that he mimicked." they paddled gently toward the shore, hoping to hear the bird again, but it sang no more that night. as they neared the beach, the moonlit air was heavy with the scent of jessamine, fragrant only after darkness, and the overpowering perfume of night-blooming cereuses, whose satin-white blossoms were three feet in circumference. suddenly, just before them, the moon-flowers bloomed. great snowy blossoms five inches across began to open slowly. there was a puff of wind, and hundreds of them burst into bloom at once, glorious white salvers of beauty and fragrance. "everything here," said will, "seems beautiful and peaceful and safe." professor ditson smiled sardonically. "south america is beautiful," he said precisely, "but it is never safe. death and danger lurk everywhere and in the most unexpected forms. it is only in south america," he went on, "that you can be eaten alive by fish the size of small trout, or be killed by ants or little brown bats." jud listened with much scorn. "professor," he broke out at last, "i don't take much stock in that kind of talk. your nerves are in a bad way. my advice to you is--" what mr. judson adams's advice was, will never be known, for at that moment a dreadful thing happened. into the beauty of the moonlight, from the glassy water of the bay soared a shape of horror, a black, monstrous creature like a gigantic bat. it had two wings which measured a good twenty feet from tip to tip, and was flat, like an enormous skate. behind it streamed a spiked, flexible tail, while long feelers, like slim horns, projected several feet beyond a vast hooked mouth. like some vampire shape from the pit, it skimmed through the air across the bow of the canoe not ten feet from where jud was sitting. the old trapper was no coward, but this sudden horror was too much even for his seasoned nerves. with a yell, he fell backward off his thwart, and as his legs kicked convulsively in the air, the monster came down with a crash that could have been heard a mile, raising a wave which nearly swamped the canoe. a moment later, the monstrous shape broke water again farther seaward, blotting out for an instant with its black bulk the rising moon. "what kind of a sea-devil is that, anyhow?" queried jud, shakily, as he righted himself, with the second crash of the falling body still in his ears. "that," responded professor ditson, precisely, "is a well-nourished specimen of the manta-ray, a fish allied to the skate family--but you started to speak about nerves." jud, however, said nothing and kept on saying the same all the way back to the house. arriving there in safety, he went down to the spring for some water with pinto, but a moment later came bolting back. "what's the matter now, jud?" inquired will, solicitously. "did you find another water-devil in the spring?" "that's just what i did!" bellowed jud. "when i started to dip out a pail of water, up pops about six feet of snake. now you know, boys," he went on, panting, "i hate snakes, an' i jumped clear across the spring at the sight of this one; but what do you suppose that injun did?" he continued excitedly. "pats the snake's head an' tells me it's tame an' there to keep the spring free from frogs. now what do you think of that?" "he was quite right," observed professor ditson, soothingly. "it is a perfectly harmless, well-behaved serpent, known as the mussarama. this one is a fine specimen which it will be worth your while to examine more carefully." "i've examined it just as carefully as i'm goin' to," shouted jud, stamping into the house as pinto came grunting up the path carrying a brimming bucket of water. as they sat down for supper, a long streak of black and white flashed across the ceiling just over jud, who sat staring at it with a spoonful of soup half-way to his mouth. "professor ditson," he inquired softly, "is that thing on the ceiling another one of your tame snakes?" "no, sir," responded the professor, impatiently; "that is only a harmless house-lizard." "i just wanted to know," remarked jud, rising and taking his plate to a bench outside of the door, where he finished his supper, in spite of all attempts on the part of the boys to bring him back. in front of will stood a pitcher of rich yellow cream. "you have a good cow, professor ditson," he remarked politely as he poured some into a cup of the delicious coffee which is served with every meal in brazil. "yes," agreed the scientist, "i have a grove of them." then he explained to the bewildered will that the cream was the sap of the cow tree. will was not so fortunate with his next investigation. taking a second helping of a good-tasting stew which pinto had brought in from the kitchen, he asked the indian what it was made of. "tinnala," replied the mundurucu. "what is it in north american?" persisted will. the indian shook his head. "i not know any other name," he said. "wait, i show you," he went on, disappearing into the kitchen to return a moment later with a long, hairy arm ending in a clenched fist. will started up and clasped his stomach frantically, remembering all that he had read about cannibalism among the south american indians. even when professor ditson explained that the stew was made from a variety of monkey which was considered a great delicacy, he was not entirely reassured and finished his meal on oranges. jud was much amused. "you always were a fussy eater, bill," he remarked from the porch. "i remember you wouldn't eat mountain-lion meat up in the north when we were after the pearl. you ought to pattern after joe. he don't find fault with his food." "all i want about food," grunted joe, "is enough." that night the whole party slept side by side in hammocks swung in a screened veranda in the second story. during the night, jud, who was always a light sleeper, was awakened by a curious, rustling, crackling sound which seemed to come from the storeroom, which opened into the sleeping-porch. after listening awhile he reached over and aroused professor ditson, who was sleeping soundly next to him. "some one's stealin' your grub," he whispered. the professor stepped lightly out of his hammock, followed by jud and the boys, who had been waked up by the whispering. opening the door noiselessly, the scientist peered in. after a long look, professor ditson turned around to find jud gripping his revolver and ready for the worst. "you can put up your gun," the scientist growled. "bullets don't mean anything to thieves like these, and he flashed a light on a strange sight. on a long table stood native baskets full of cassava, that curious grainlike substance obtained from the root of the poisonous manihot and which takes the place of wheat in south america. the floor was covered with moving columns of ants, large and small, which had streamed up the legs of the table and into the baskets. some of them were over an inch long, while others were smaller than the grains they were carrying. the noise which had aroused jud had been made by their cutting off the dry leaves with which the baskets were lined, to use in lining their underground nest. professor ditson told them that nothing could stop an ant-army. once on the march, they would not turn back for fire or water and would furiously attack anything that tried to check them. "a remarkably efficient insect," concluded the professor, "for it bites with one end and stings with the other." "this is what i call a nice quiet night!" murmured jud, as he went back to his hammock. "sea-devils, snakes, lizards--and now it's ants. i wonder what next?" "next," however, was daylight, blazing with the startling suddenness of the tropics, where there is no dawn-light. with the light, the tumult of the night ceased, and in place of the insect din came a medley of bird-notes. when jud opened his eyes professor ditson's hammock was empty, for the scientist usually got up long before daylight, and through the open door strutted a long-legged, wide-winged bird, nearly three feet tall, with a shimmering blue breast and throat. without hesitating, she walked over to jud's hammock and, spread her wings with a deep murmuring note, made a low bow. "good morning to you," responded jud, much pleased with his visitor. the bird bowed and murmured again and allowed him to pat her beautiful head as she bent forward. then she went to the next hammock and the next and the next, until she had awakened all of the sleepers, whereupon, with deep bows and courtesies and murmurings, she sidled out of the room. "now, that," said jud, as he rolled out of the hammock and began to look for his shoes, "is an alarm-clock worth having!" pinto, the mundurucu, who appeared at this moment with a pail of spring water, told them that the bird was a tame female trumpeter which he had picked up as a queer, frightened little creature, all legs and neck, but which had become one of the best-loved of all of his many pets. each morning the tame, beautiful bird would wander through the house, waking up every sleeper at sunrise. when pinto took trips through the forest the bird always went with him, traveling on his back in a large-meshed fiber bag; and when he made camp it would parade around for a while, bowing and talking, and then fly up into the nearest tree, where it would spend the night. tente, as it was named, was always gentle except when it met a dog. no matter how large or fierce the latter might be, tente would fly at it, making a loud, rumbling noise, which always made the dog turn tail and run for its life. as pinto started to fill the pitchers, will, the bird expert of the party, began to ask him about some of the songs which were sounding all around the house. one bird which squalled and mewed interested him. "that bird chestnut cuckoo," said pinto. "it have the soul of a cat." and as will listened he could well believe it. a little farther off, another bird called constantly, "crispen, crispen, crispen." "one time," narrated the indian, "a girl and her little brother crispen go walking in the woods. he very little boy and he wander away and get lost, and all day and all night and all next day she go through the woods calling, 'crispen! crispen! crispen!' until at last she changed into a little bird. and still she flies through the woods and calls 'crispen!'" at this point, jud finally found his missing shoes and started to put one on, but stopped at a shout from the mundurucu. "shake it out!" warned pinto. "no one ever puts on shoes in this country without shaking out." jud did as he was told. with the first shoe he drew a blank. out of the second one, however, rattled down on the floor a centipede fully six inches long, which pinto skillfully crushed with the heavy water-pitcher. jud gasped and sank back into his hammock. "boys," he said solemnly, "i doubt if i last out this trip!" chapter iii the vampires after breakfast, professor amandus ditson called the party together for a conference in a wide, cool veranda on the ground floor. "i should like to outline to you my plan of our expedition," he announced precisely. jud gave an angry grunt. the old adventurer, who had been a hero among prospectors and trappers in the far north, was accustomed to be consulted in any expedition of which he was a member. "it seems to me, professor ditson," he remarked aggressively, "that you're pretty uppity about this trip. other people here have had experience in treasure-huntin'." "meaning yourself, i presume," returned professor ditson, acidly. "yes, sir!" shouted jud, thoroughly aroused, "that's exactly who i do mean. i know as much about--_ouch!_" the last exclamation came when jud brought down his open hand for emphasis on the side of his chair and incidently on a lurid brown insect nearly three inches in length, with enormous nippers and a rounded body ending in what looked like a long sting. jud jerked his hand away and gazed in horror at his threatening seat-mate. "i believe i'm stung," he murmured faintly, gazing anxiously at his hand. "what is it?" "it would hardly seem to me," observed professor ditson, scathingly, "that a man who is afraid of a harmless arachnid like a whip-scorpion, and who nearly falls out of a canoe at the sight of a manta-ray disporting itself, would be the one to lead an expedition through the unexplored wilds of south america. we are going into a country," he went on more earnestly, "where a hasty step, the careless touching of a tree, or the tasting of a leaf or fruit may mean instant death, to say nothing of the dangers from some of the larger carnivora and wandering cannibals. i have had some experience with this region," he went on, "and if there is no objection, i will outline my plan." there was none. even jud, who had removed himself to another chair with great rapidity, had not a word to say. "i propose that we take a steamer by the end of this week to manaos, a thousand miles up the amazon," continued the professor. "in the meantime, we can do some hunting and collecting in this neighborhood. after we reach manaos we can go by boat down the rio negros until we strike the old slave trail which leads across the amazon basin and up into the highlands of peru." "who made that trail?" inquired will, much interested. "it was cut by the spanish conquerors of peru nearly four hundred years ago," returned the scientist. "they used to send expeditions down into the amazon region after slaves to work their mines. since then," he went on, "it has been kept open by the indians themselves, and, as far as i know, has not been traversed by a white man for centuries. i learned the secret of it many years ago, while i was living with one of the wilder tribes," he finished. the professor's plan was adopted unanimously, jud not voting. then followed nearly a week of wonderful hunting and collecting. even jud, who regarded everything with a severe and jaundiced eye, could not conceal his interest in the multitude of wonderful new sights, sounds, and scents which they experienced every day. as for will, he lived in the delightful excitement which only a bird-student knows who finds himself surrounded by a host of unknown and beautiful birds. some of them, unlike good children, were heard but not seen. once, as they pushed their way in single file along a little path which wound through the jungle, there suddenly sounded, from the dark depths beyond, a shriek of agony and despair. in a moment it was taken up by another voice and another and another, until there were at least twenty screamers performing in chorus. "it's only the ypicaha rail," remarked the professor, indifferently. hen pine, who was in the rear with will, shook his head doubtfully. "dis ol' jungle," he whispered, "is full o' squallers. de professor he call 'em birds, but dey sound more like ha'nts to me." beyond the rail colony they heard at intervals a hollow, mysterious cry. "that," explained pinto, "is the witch of the woods. no one ever sees her unless she is answered. then she comes and drives mad the one who called her." "nice cheery place, this!" broke in jud. "the alleged witch," remarked professor ditson severely, "happens to be the little waterhen." later they heard a strange, clanging noise, which sounded as if some one had struck a tree with an iron bar, and at intervals from the deepest part of the forest there came a single, wild, fierce cry. even professor ditson could not identify these sounds. "dem most suttinly is ha'nts," volunteered hen. "i know 'em. you wouldn't catch dis chile goin' far alone in dese woods." one of the smaller birds which interested will was the many-colored knight, which looked much like one of the northern kinglets. his little body, smaller than that of a house-wren, showed seven colors--black, white, green, blue, orange, yellow, and scarlet, and he had a blue crown and a sky-blue eye. moreover, his nest, fastened to a single rush, was a marvel of skill and beauty, being made entirely of soft bits of dry, yellow sedge, cemented together with gum so smoothly that it looked as if it had been cast in a mold. then there was the bienteveo tyrant, a bird about nine inches long, which caught fish, flies, and game, and fed on fruit and carrion indiscriminately. it was entirely devoted to its mate, and whenever a pair of tyrants were separated, they would constantly call back and forth to each other reassuringly, even when they were hunting. when they finally met again, they would perch close to each other and scream joyously at being reunited. another bird of the same family, the scarlet tyrant, all black and scarlet, was so brilliant that even the rainbow-hued tanagers seemed pale and the jeweled humming-bird sad-colored in the presence of "coal-o'-fire," as the indians have named this bird. jud was more impressed with the wonders of the vegetable kingdom. whenever he strayed off the beaten path or tried to cut his way through a thicket, he tangled himself in the curved spines of the pull-and-haul-back vine, a thorny shrub which lives up to its name, or was stabbed by the devil-plant, a sprawling cactus which tries quite successfully to fill up all the vacant spaces in the jungle where it grows. each stem of this well-named shrub had three or four angles, and each angle was lined with thorns an inch or more in length, so sharp and strong that they pierced jud's heavy hunting-boots like steel needles. if it had not been for hen, who was a master with the machete, jud never would have broken loose from his entanglements. beyond the cactus, the old trapper came to a patch of poor-man's plaster, a shrub with attractive yellow flowers, but whose leaves, which broke off at a touch, were covered on the under side with barbed hairs, which caught and clung to any one touching them. the farther jud went, the more he became plastered with these sticky leaves, until he began to look like some huge chrysalis. the end came when he tripped on a network of invisible wires, the stems of species of smilax and morning-glory, and rolled over and over in a thicket of the plasters. when at last he gained his feet, he looked like nothing human, but seemed only a walking mass of green leaves and clinging stems. "yah, yah, yah!" roared hen. "mars' jud he look des like br'er rabbit did when he spilled br'er bear's bucket o' honey over hisself an' rolled in leafs tryin' to clean hisself. mars' jud sure look like de grand-daddy ob all de ha'nts in dese yere woods." "shut up, you fool darky," said jud, decidedly miffed. "come and help unwrap me. i feel like a cigar." hen laughed so that it was with difficulty that he freed jud, prancing with impatience, from his many layers of leaves. later on, hen showed himself to be an even more present help in trouble. the two were following a path a short distance away from the rest of the party, with jud in the lead. suddenly the trapper heard the slash of the negro's machete just behind him, and turned around to see him cutting the head from a coiled rattlesnake over which jud had stepped. if jud had stopped or touched the snake with either foot, he would most certainly have been bitten, and it spoke well for hen's presence of mind that he kept perfectly quiet until the danger was over. this south american rattlesnake had a smaller head and rougher scales than any of the thirteen north american varieties, and was nearly six feet in length. professor ditson was filled with regret that it had not been caught alive. "never kill a harmless snake," he said severely to hen, "without consulting me. i would have been glad to have added this specimen to the collection of the zoölogical gardens." "harmless!" yelled jud, much incensed. "a rattlesnake harmless! how do you get that way?" "he didn't do you any harm, did he?" retorted the professor, acidly. "it is certainly ungrateful of you to slander a snake just after he has saved your life." "how did he save my life?" asked jud. "by not biting you," returned professor ditson, promptly. a little later poor jud had a hair-raising experience with another snake. he had shot a carancha, that curious south american hawk which wails and whines when it is happy, and, although a fruit-eater with weak claws and only a slightly hooked beak, attacks horses and kills lambs. jud had tucked his specimen into a back pocket of his shooting-jacket and was following a little path which led through an open space in the jungle. he had turned over his shot-gun to joe, and was trying his best to keep clear of any more tangling vines, when suddenly right beside him a great dark snake reared its head until its black glittering eyes looked level into jud's, and its flickering tongue was not a foot from his face. with a yell, jud broke the world's record for the back-standing broad-jump and tore down the trail shouting, "bushmaster! bushmaster!" at the top of his voice. as he ran he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his back. "he's got me!" he called back to hen pine, who came hurrying after him. "ouch! there he goes again!" and he plunged headlong into a patch of pull-and-haul-back vine, which anchored him until hen came up. "dat ain't no bushmaster, mars' jud," the latter called soothingly. "dat was only a trail-haunting blacksnake. he like to lie next to a path an' stick up his ol' head to see who's comin', kin' o' friendly like." "friendly nothin'!" groaned jud. "he's just bit me again." as soon as hen laid hold of jud's jacket he found out what was the matter. the hawk had only been stunned by jud's shot and, coming to life again, had promptly sunk his claws into the latter's back, and jud had mistaken the bird's talons for the fangs of the bushmaster. professor ditson, who had hurried up, was much disappointed. "if you ever meet a bushmaster, you'll learn the difference between it and a harmless blacksnake," he observed. "probably, however," he went on thoughtfully, "it will be too late to do you much good." "why do all the snakes in south america pick on me?" complained jud. "there don't seem to be nothin' here but snakes an' thorns." it was pinto who gave the old trapper his first favorable impression of the jungle. they had reached a deserted bungalow in the heart of the woods, which professor ditson had once made his headquarters a number of years before. there they planned to have lunch and spend the night. at the meal jud showed his usual good appetite in spite of his misfortunes, but he complained afterward to hen, who had attached himself specially to the old man, about the absence of dessert. "i got a kind of a sweet tooth," he said. "you ain't got a piece of pie handy, have you?" "no sah, no sah," replied hen, regretfully. "you's about three thousand miles south ob de pie-belt." "wait," broke in pinto, who had been listening. "wait a minute; i get you something sweet," and he led the way to an enormous tree with reddish, ragged bark. some distance up its trunk was a deep hollow, out of which showed a spout of dark wax nearly two feet long. in and out of this buzzed a cloud of bees. "i get you!" shouted jud, much delighted, "a bee-tree! look out, boy," he went on, as the indian, clinging to the ridges of the bark with his fingers and toes, began to climb. "those bees'll sting you to death." "south american bees hab no sting," explained hen, as pinto reached the wax spout, and, breaking it off, thrust his hand fearlessly through the cloud of bees into the store of honey beyond. a moment later, and he was back again, laden with masses of dripping honeycomb, the cells of which, instead of being six-sided, as with our northern bees, resembled each one a little bottle. the honey was clear and sweet, yet had a curious tart flavor. while jud was sampling a bit of honeycomb, pinto borrowed hen's machete and cut a deep gash through the rough red bark of the tree. immediately there flowed out from the cut the same thick, milky juice which they had seen at their first breakfast in south america. the indian cut a separate gash for each one of the party, and they all finished their meal with draughts of the sweet, creamy juice. "it sure is a land flowing with milk an' honey," remarked jud, at last, after he had eaten and drunk all that he could hold. "this vegetable milk is particularly rich in gluten," observed professor ditson, learnedly. "i guess it'd gluten up a fellow's stomach all right if he drank too much of it," remarked jud, smacking his lips over the sweet, sticky taste which the juice of the cow-tree left in his mouth. after lunch, most of the party retired to their hammocks in the cool dark of the house for the siesta which south american travelers find an indispensable part of a tropical day. only the scientist and will stayed awake to catch butterflies through the scented silence of the forest where the air, filled with the steam and perfume of a green blaze of growth, had the wet hotness of a conservatory. when even the insects and the untiring tree-toads were silenced by the sun, professor ditson, wearing a gray linen suit with a low collar and a black tie, was as enthusiastic as ever over the collecting of rare specimens, and was greatly pleased at will's interest in his out-of-door hobbies. together they stepped into the jungle, where scarlet passion-flowers shone like stars through the green. almost immediately they began to see butterflies. the first one was a magnificent grass-green specimen, closely followed by others whose iridescent, mother-of-pearl wings gleamed in the sunlight like bits of rainbow. on a patch of damp sand a group made a cloud of sulphur-yellow, sapphire-blue, and gilded green-and-orange. the professor told will that in other years he had found over seven hundred different kinds within an hour's walk from this forest bungalow, being more than double the number of varieties found in all europe. deep in the jungle, they at last came to a little open stretch where the professor had often collected before and which to-day seemed full of butterflies. never had will imagined such a riot of color and beauty as there dazzled his eyes. some of the butterflies were red and yellow, the colors of spain. others were green, purple, and blue, bordered and spangled with spots of silver and gold. then there were the strange transparent "glass-wings." one of these, the _hetaira esmeralda_, will was convinced must be the most beautiful of all flying creatures. its wings were like clear glass, with a spot of mingled violet and rose in the center of each one. at a distance, only this shimmering spot could be seen rising and falling through the air, like the wind-borne petals of some beautiful flower. indeed, as the procession of color drifted by, it seemed to the boy as if all the loveliest flowers on earth had taken to themselves wings, or that the rainbow-bridge of the sky had been shattered into fragments which were drifting slowly down to earth. the largest of them all were the swallowtails, belonging to the same family as the tiger, and blue and black swallowtail, which will had so often caught in cornwall. one of that family gleamed in the sunlight like a blue meteor as it flapped its great wings, seven inches from tip to tip and of a dazzling blue, high above the tree-tops. another member of the same family, and nearly as large, was satiny white in color. professor ditson told will that both of these varieties were almost unknown in any collection, as they never came within twenty feet of the ground, so that the only specimens secured were those of disabled or imperfect butterflies which had dropped to the lower levels. "why couldn't i climb to the top of one of those trees with a net and catch some?" inquired will, looking wistfully up at the gleaming shapes flitting through the air so far above him. "fire-ants and wasps," returned the professor, concisely. "they are found in virtually every tree. no one can stand the pain of an ant's bite, and one sting of a maribundi wasp has been known to kill a strong man." that night, tired out by their long day of hunting, the whole party went to bed early. will's sleeping-room was an upper screened alcove, just large enough to hold a single hammock. somehow, even after his long hard day, he did not feel sleepy. great trees shadowed his corner, so thick that even the stars could not shine through their leaves, and it seemed to will as if he could stretch out his hands and lift up dripping masses of blackness, smothering, terrifying in its denseness. from a far-away tree-top the witch-owl muttered over and over again that mysterious word of evil, "murucututu, murucututu," in a forgotten indian tongue. he had laughed when pinto told him a few nights before that the owl was trying to lay a spell on those who listened, but to-night in the dark he did not laugh. then close at hand in a neighborhood tree-top sounded a beautiful contralto frog-note slowly repeated. "gul, gul, gul, gul, guggle, gul, guggle," it throbbed. the slow, sweet call gave the boy a sense of companionship, and he fell asleep with the music of it still sounding in his ears. toward midnight he woke with a vague sense of uneasiness. it was as if some hidden subconsciousness of danger had sounded an alarm note within his nerve centers and awakened him. something seemed to be moving and whispering outside of the screened alcove. then a body struck the screen of mosquito-netting, and he heard the rotten fiber rip. another second, and his little room was filled with moving, flitting, invisible shapes. great wings fanned the air just above his face. there was the faint reek of hot, furry bodies passing back and forth and all around him. for a moment will lay thinking that he was in a nightmare, for he had that strange sense of horror which paralyzes one's muscles during a bad dream so that movement is impossible. at last, by a sudden effort, he stretched out his hand and struck a match from a box which stood on a stand beside his hammock. at the quick spurt of flame through the dark, from all parts of the little room came tiny, shrill screeches, and the air around him was black with whirling, darting shapes. suddenly into the little circle of light from the match swept the horrible figure of a giant bat, whose leathern wings had a spread of nearly two and a half feet, and whose horrible face hovered and hung close to his own. never had the boy believed that any created thing could be so grotesquely hideous. the face that peered into his own was flanked on each side by an enormous leathery ear. from the tip of the hairy muzzle grew a spearlike spike, and the grinning mouth was filled with rows of irregular, tiny, gleaming sharp teeth, gritting and clicking against each other. deep-set little green eyes, which glistened and gleamed like glass, glared into will's face. before he could move, a great cloud of flying bats, large and small, settled down upon him. some of them were small gray vampire-bats with white markings, others were the great fruit-eating bats, and there were still others dark-red, tawny-brown, and fox-yellow. whirling and wheeling around the little point of flame, they dashed it out, and crawled all over the boy until he felt stifled and smothered with the heat of their clinging bodies. suddenly he felt a stinging pain in his bare shoulder and in one of his exposed feet. as he threw out his hands desperately, tiny clicking teeth cut the flesh of wrists and arms. the scent of blood seemed to madden the whole company of these deaths-in-the-dark, and, although the actual bites were made by the little vampire-bats, yet at the sight of them feasting, the other night-fliers descended upon the boy like a black cloud and clustered around the little wounds, as will had seen moths gather around syrup spread on trees of a warm june night. the sting of their bites lasted for only a second, and the flapping of their wings made a cool current of air which seemed to drug his senses. dreamily he felt them against him, knew that they were draining his life, yet lacked the will-power to drive them away. suddenly there flashed into his mind all that he had heard and read of the deadly methods of these dark enemies of mankind. with a shriek, he threw out his arms through the furry cloud that hung over him and sprang out of his hammock. at his scream, professor ditson rushed in with a flash-light, followed by pinto, hen, and joe, while jud slept serenely through the whole tumult. they found will dripping with blood from a dozen little punctures made by the sharp teeth of the bats, and almost exhausted from fright and the loss of blood. then came pandemonium. seizing sticks, brooms, machetes, anything that came to hand, while will sank back into his hammock, the others attacked the bats. lighted by the flash of professor ditson's electric light, they drove the squeaking, shrieking cloud of dark figures back and forth through the little room until the last one had escaped through the torn netting or was lying dead on the floor. twenty-seven bats altogether were piled in a heap when the fight was over. chapter iv death river at last their first week in this new world of beauty and mystery came to an end. at belem they boarded a well-appointed steamer and embarked for the thousand-mile voyage to manaos, which is only six degrees from the equator and one of the hottest cities of the world. there followed another week of a life that was strange and new to the travelers from cornwall. there were silent, steaming days when the earth seemed to swoon beneath the glare of the lurid sun, and only at night would a breath of air cross the water, which gleamed like a silver burning-glass. for their very lives' sake, white men and indians alike had learned to keep as quiet and cool as possible during those fiery hours. only hen, coming from a race that since the birth of time had lived close to the equator, moved about with a cheerfulness which no amount of heat or humidity could lessen. at night, when the fatal sun had reluctantly disappeared in a mass of pink and violet clouds, the life-bringing breeze would blow in fresh and salt from the far-away sea, and all living creatures would revive. the boys soon learned that, in the mid-heat of a tropical summer, the night was the appointed time for play and work, and they slept during the day as much as possible in shaded, airy hammocks. one evening, after an unusually trying day, the night wind sprang up even before the sun had set. here and there, across the surface of the river, flashed snow-white swallows with dark wings. as the fire-gold of the sun touched the horizon, the silver circle of the full moon showed in the east, and for a moment the two great lights faced each other. then the sun slipped behind the rim of the world, and the moon rose higher and higher, while the indian crew struck up a wailing chant full of endless verses, with a strange minor cadence like the folk-songs of the southern negro. hen pine translated the words of some of them, and crooned the wailing melody: "the moon is rising, mother, mother, the seven stars are weeping, mother, mother, to find themselves forsaken, mother, mother." down the echoing channels, through the endless gloomy forests, the cadence of the song rose and fell. suddenly, in the still moonlight from the river-bank came a single low note of ethereal beauty and unutterable sorrow. slowly it rose and swelled, keeping its heartbreaking quality and exquisite beauty. at the sound the men stopped singing, and it seemed as if an angel were sobbing in the stillness. on and on the song went, running through eight lonely, lovely notes which rose and swelled until there seemed to be nothing in the world except that beautiful voice, finally ending in a sob which brought the tears to will's eyes. then out into the moonlight flitted the singer, a quiet-colored little brown-and-gray bird, the celebrated solitaire, the sweetest, saddest singer of the brazilian forest. after all this music, supper was served. it began with a thick, violet-colored drink in long glasses filled with cracked ice. the boys learned from professor ditson that this was made from the fruit of the assai-palm. it was strangely compounded of sweet and sour and had besides a fragrance and a tingle which made it indescribably refreshing. this was followed by an iced preparation made from the root of the manioc, whose juice is poisonous, but whose pulp is wholesome and delicious. before being served it had been boiled with the fruit of the miriti-palm, which added a tart sweetness to its taste which the northerners found most delightful. the next course was a golden-yellow compound of a rich, nutty flavor, the fruit of the mucuju-palm, which has a yellow, fibrous pulp so full of fat that vultures, dogs, and cats eat it greedily. for dessert, there was a great basket of sweet lemons, mangos, oranges, custard-apples, and other fruits. after supper they all grouped themselves in the bow and there, in comfortable steamer-chairs, watched the steamer plow its way through a river of ink and silver. that day, jud, while in his hammock, had seen, to his horror, what seemed to be a slender vine, dangling from one of the trees, change into a pale-green snake some eight feet long, whose strange head was prolonged into a slender, pointed beak. even as the old man stared, it flashed across the deck not two feet away from him and disappeared in another tree. so perfectly did its color blend with the leaves that the instant it reached them it seemed to vanish from sight. "it was the palm-snake," said professor ditson, after jud told them of his experience. "it lives on lizards, and, although venomous, has never been known to bite a human being. if you had only been brave enough," he went on severely, "to catch it with your naked hand, we might even now have an invaluable record of the effects of its venom." "what is the most venomous snake in the world?" broke in will, as jud tried to think of words strong enough to express what he thought of the scientist's suggestion. "the hamadryad or king cobra," returned the professor. "i once secured one over fourteen feet long." "how did you catch it?" queried will. "well," said the professor, "i came across it by a fortunate accident. i was collecting butterflies in india at a time of the year when it is especially pugnacious, and this particular snake dashed out of a thicket at me. it came so unexpectedly that i had to run for my life. it seems ridiculous that i should have done so," he went on apologetically, "but the bite of the hamadryad is absolutely fatal. this one gained on me so rapidly that i was at last compelled to plunge into a near-by pond, since this variety of snake never willingly enters water." "what happened then?" inquired will, as the scientist came to a full stop. "when i reached the opposite shore, a quarter of a mile away, and was about to land," returned the professor, "out of the rushes this same snake reared up some six feet. with the rare intelligence which makes the hamadryad such a favorite among collectors, it had circled the lake and was waiting for me." "snappy work!" said jud, shivering. "i can't think of any pleasanter finish to a good swim than to find a nice fourteen-foot snake waitin' for me. what did you do then?" "i floated around in deep water until my assistant came and secured the snake with a forked stick. it is now in the new york zoölogical gardens at the bronx," concluded the professor. jud drew a deep breath. "that reminds me," he said at last, "of a time i once had with a pizen snake when i was a young man. i was hoein' corn up on a side hill in cornwall when i was about sixteen year old," he continued. "all on a sudden i heard a rattlin' an' down the hill in one of the furrows came rollin' a monstrous hoop-snake. you know," he explained, "a hoop-snake has an ivory stinger in its tail an' rolls along the ground like a hoop, an' when it strikes it straightens out an' shoots through the air just like a spear." "i know nothing of the kind," broke in professor ditson. "well," said jud, unmoved by the interruption, "when i saw this snake a-rollin' an' a-rattlin' down the hill towards me, i dived under the fence an' put for home, leavin' my hoe stickin' up straight in the furrow. as i slid under the fence," he went on, "i heard a thud, an' looked back just in time to see the old hoop-snake shoot through the air an' stick its stinger deep into the hoe-handle. it sure was a pizen snake, all right," he went on, wagging his head solemnly. "when i came back, an hour or so later, the snake was gone, but that hoe-handle had swelled up pretty nigh as big as my leg." there was a roar of laughter from will and joe, while jud gazed mournfully out over the water. professor ditson was vastly indignant. "i feel compelled to state," he said emphatically, "that there is no such thing as a hoop-snake and that no snake-venom would have any effect on a hoe-handle." "have it your way," said jud. "it ain't very polite of you to doubt my snake story after i swallowed yours without a word." at manaos they left the steamer, and professor ditson bought for the party a _montaria_, a big native boat without a rudder, made of plank and propelled by narrow, pointed paddles. although hen and pinto and the professor were used to this kind of craft, it did not appeal at all favorably to the northerners, who were accustomed to the light bark-canoes and broad-bladed paddles of the northern indians. joe was especially scornful. "this boat worse than a dug out," he objected. "it heavy and clumsy and paddles no good either." "you'll find it goes all right on these rivers," professor ditson reassured him. "we only have a few hundred miles more, anyway before we strike the trail." under the skilful handling of hen and pinto, the montaria, although it seemed unwieldly, turned out to be a much better craft than it looked; and when the northerners became used to the narrow paddles, the expedition made great headway, the boys finding the wide boat far more comfortable for a long trip than the smaller, swifter canoe. after a day, a night, and another day of paddling, they circled a wide bend, and there, showing like ink in the moonlight, was the mouth of another river. "white men call it rio negros, black river," the indian explained to the boys; "but my people call it the river of death." as the professor, who was steering with a paddle, swung the prow of the boat into the dark water, the indian protested earnestly. "it very bad luck, master to enter death river by night," he said. "murucututu, murucututu," muttered the witch-owl, from an overhanging branch. hen joined in pinto's protest. "that owl be layin' a spell on us, boss," he said. "better wait till mornin'." the professor was inflexible. "i have no patience with any such superstitions," he said. "we can cover fully twenty-five miles before morning." the mundurucu shook his head and said nothing more, but hen continued his protests, even while paddling. "never knew any good luck to come when that ol' owl's around," he remarked mournfully. "it was him that sicked them vampires on to will here, an' we're all in for a black time on this black ribber." "henry," remarked professor ditson, acridly, "kindly close your mouth tightly and breathe through your nose for the next two hours. your conversation is inconsequential." "yassah, yassah," responded hen, meekly, and the montaria sped along through inky shadows and the silver reaches of the new river in silence. about midnight the forest became so dense that it was impossible to follow the channel safely, and the professor ordered the boat to be anchored for the night. usually it was possible to make a landing and camp on shore, but to-night in the thick blackness of the shadowed bank, it was impossible to see anything. accordingly, the party, swathed in mosquito-netting, slept as best they could in the montaria itself. it was at the gray hour before dawn, when men sleep soundest, that jud was awakened by hearing a heavy thud against the side of the boat close to his head. it was repeated, and in the half-light the old man sat up. once again came the heavy thud, and then, seemingly suspended in the air above the side of the boat close to his head, hung a head of horror. slowly it thrust itself higher and higher, until, towering over the side of the boat, showed the fixed gleaming eyes and the darting forked tongue of a monstrous serpent. paralyzed for a moment by his horror for all snake-kind, the old man could not move, and held his breath until the blood drummed in his ears. only when the hideous head curved downward toward joe did jud recover control of himself. his prisoned voice came out then with a yell like a steam-siren, and he fumbled under his left armpit for the automatic revolver which he wore in the wilderness, night and day, strapped there in a water-proof case. "sucuruju! sucuruju! sucuruju!" shouted pinto, aroused by jud's yell. "the spirit of the river is upon us!" and he grasped his machete just as jud loosened his revolver. quick as they were, the huge anaconda, whose family includes the largest water-snakes of the world, was even quicker. with a quick dart of its head, it fixed its long curved teeth in the shoulder of the sleeping boy, and in an instant, some twenty feet of glistening coils glided over the side of the boat. the scales of the monster shone like burnished steel, and it was of enormous girth in the middle, tapering off at either end. jud dared not shoot at the creature's head for fear of wounding joe, but sent bullets as fast as he could pull the trigger into the great girth, which tipped the heavy boat over until the water nearly touched the gunwale. pinto slashed with all his might with his machete at the back of the great snake, but it was like attempting to cut through steel-studded leather. in spite of the attack, the coils of the great serpent moved toward the boy, who, without a sound, struggled to release his shoulder from the terrible grip of the curved teeth. the anaconda, the sucuruju of the natives, rarely ever attacks a man; but when it does, it is with difficulty driven away. this one, in spite of steel and bullets, persisted in its attempt to engulf the body of the struggling boy in its coils, solid masses of muscle powerful enough to break every bone in joe's body. it was hen pine who finally saved the boy's life. awakened by the sound of the shots and the shouts of jud and pinto, he reached joe just as one of the fatal coils was half around him. with his bare hands he caught hold of both of the fierce jaws and with one tremendous wrench of his vast arms literally tore them apart. released from their death grip, joe rolled to one side, out of danger. the great snake hissed fiercely, and its deadly, lidless eyes glared into those of the man. slowly, with straining, knotted muscles, hen wrenched the grim jaws farther and farther apart. then bracing his vast forearms, he bowed his back in one tremendous effort that, in spite of the steel-wire muscles of the great serpent, bent its deadly jaws backward and tore them down the sides, ripping the tough, shimmering skin like so much paper. slowly, with a wrench and a shudder, the great water-boa acknowledged defeat, and its vast body pierced, slashed, and torn, reluctantly slid over the side of the boat. as hen released his grip of the torn jaws, the form of the giant serpent showed mirrored for an instant against the moonlit water and then disappeared in the inky depths below. joe's thick flannel shirt had saved his arm from any serious injury, but professor ditson washed out the gashes made by the sharp curved teeth with permanganate of potash, for the teeth of the boas and pythons, although not venomous, may bring on blood-poisoning, like the teeth of any wild animal. jud was far more shaken by the adventure than joe, who was as impassive as ever. "snakes, snakes, snakes!" he complained. "they live in the springs and pop up beside the paths and drop on you out of trees. now they're beginnin' to creep out of the water to kill us off in our sleep. what a country!" "it's the abundance of reptile life which makes south america so interesting and attractive," returned professor ditson, severely. it was pinto who prevented the inevitable and heated discussion between the elders of the party. "down where i come from," he said, "lives a big water-snake many times larger than this one, called the guardian of the river. he at least seventy-five feet long. we feed him goats every week. my grandfather and his grandfather's grandfather knew him. once," went on pinto, "i found him coiled up beside the river in such a big heap that i couldn't see over the top of the coils." "i don't know which is the worse," murmured jud to will, "seein' the snakes which _are_ or hearin' about the snakes which _ain't_. between the two, i'm gettin' all wore out." then pinto went back again to his predictions about the river they were on. "this river," he said, "is not called the river of death for nothing. the old men of my tribe say that always dangers come here by threes. one is passed, but two more are yet to come. never, master, should we have entered this river by night." "yes," chimed in hen, "when i heered that ol' witch-owl i says to myself, 'hen pine, there'll be somethin' bad a-doin' soon.'" "you talk like a couple of superstitious old women," returned professor ditson, irritably. "you wait," replied the indian, stubbornly; "two more evils yet to come." pinto's prophecy was partly fulfilled with startling suddenness. the party had finished breakfast, and the montaria was anchored in a smooth, muddy lagoon which led from the river back some distance into the forest. while will and hen fished from the bow of the boat the rest of the party curled themselves up under the shade of the overhanging trees to make up their lost sleep. at first, the fish bit well and the two caught a number which looked much like the black bass of northern waters. a minute later, a school of fresh-water flying-fish broke water near them and flashed through the air for a full twenty yards, like a flight of gleaming birds. as the sun burned up the morning mist, it changed from a sullen red to a dazzling gold and at last to a molten white, and the two fishermen nodded over their poles as little waves of heat ran across the still water and seemed to weigh down their eyelids like swathings of soft wool. the prow of the boat swung lazily back and forth in the slow current which set in from the main river. suddenly the dark water around the boat was muddied and discolored, as if something had stirred up the bottom ten feet below. then up through the clouded water drifted a vast, spectral, grayish-white shape. nearer and nearer to the surface it came, while hen and will dozed over their poles. will sat directly in the bow, and his body, sagging with sleep, leaned slightly over the gunwale. suddenly the surface of the water was broken by a tremendous splash, and out from its depth shot half the body of a fish nearly ten feet in length. its color was the gray-white of the ooze at the bottom of the stream in which it had lain hidden until attracted to the surface by the shadow of the montaria drifting above him. will awakened at the hoarse shout from hen just in time to see yawning in front of him a mouth more enormous than he believed any created thing possessed outside of the whale family. it was a full five feet between the yawning jaws, which were circled by a set of small sharp teeth. even as he sprang back, the monster lunged forward right across the edge of the boat and the jaws snapped shut. will rolled to one side in an effort to escape the menancing depths, and although he managed to save his head and body from the maw of the great fish, yet the jaws closed firmly on both his extended arms, engulfing them clear to the shoulder. the little teeth, tiny in comparison with the size of the jaws in which they were set, hardly more than penetrated the sleeves of his flannel shirt and pricked the skin below, but as the monster lurched backward toward the water its great weight drew the boy irresistibly toward the edge of the boat, although he dug his feet into the thwarts and twined them around the seat on which he had been sitting. once in the river, the fatal jaws would open again, and he felt that he would be swallowed as easily as a pike would take in a minnow. even as he was dragged forward to what seemed certain death, will did not fail to recognize a familiar outline in the vast fish-face against which he was held. the small, deep-set eyes, the skin like oiled leather, long filaments extending from the side of the jaw, and the enormous round head were nothing more than that of the catfish or bullhead which he used to catch at night behind the mill-dam in cornwall, enlarged a thousand times. although the monster, in spite of its unwieldy size, had sprung forth, gripped its intended prey, and started back for the water in a flash, yet hen pine was even quicker. in spite of his size, there was no one in the party quicker in an emergency than the giant negro. even as he sprang to his feet he disengaged the huge steel machete which always dangled from his belt. hen's blade, which he used as a bush-hook and a weapon, was half again as heavy as the ordinary machete, and he always kept it ground to a razor edge. he reached the bow just as the great, gray, glistening body slipped back over the gunwale, dragging will irresistibly with it. swinging the broad heavy blade over his head, with every ounce of effort in his brawny body, hen, brought the keen edge down slantwise across the gray back of the river-monster, which tapered absurdly small in comparison with the vast spread of the gaping jaws. it was such a blow as richard the lion-hearted might have struck; and just as his historic battle-sword would shear through triple steel plate and flesh and bone, so that day the machete of hen pine, unsung in song or story, cut through the smooth gray skin, the solid flesh beneath, and whizzed straight on through the cartilaginous joints of the great fish's spine, nor ever stopped until it had sunk deep into the wood of the high gunwale of the boat itself. with a gasping sigh, the monster's head rolled off the edge of the boat and slowly sank through the dark water, leaving the long, severed trunk floating on the surface. reaching out, the negro caught the latter by one of the back fins and secured it with a quick twist of a near-by rope. "that's the biggest piraiba i ever see," he announced. "they're fine to eat, an' turn about is fair play. ol' piraiba try to eat you; now you eat him." and while will sat back on the seat, sick and faint from his narrow escape, hen proceeded to haul the black trunk aboard and carve steaks of the white, firm-set flesh from it. "every year along the madeira river this fish tip over canoes and swallow indians. they's more afraid of it," hen said, "than they is of alligators or anacondas." when hen woke up the rest of the party and told them of the near-tragedy pinto croaked like a raven. "sucuruju one, piraiba two; but three is yet to come," he finished despondingly. the next two days, however, seemed to indicate that the river had exhausted its malice against the travelers. the party paddled through a panorama of sights and sounds new to the northerners, and at night camped safely on high, dry places on the banks. on the morning of the third day the whole party started down the river before daylight and watched the dawn of a tropical day, a miracle even more beautiful than the sunrises of the north. one moment there was perfect blackness; then a faint light showed in the east; and suddenly, without the slow changes of northern skies, the whole east turned a lovely azure blue, against which showed a film and fretwork of white clouds, like wisps of snowy lace. just as the sun came up they passed a tall and towering conical rock which shot up three hundred feet among the trees and terminated in what looked like a hollowed summit. pinto told them that this was treasure rock, and that nearly half a thousand years ago the spaniards, in the days when they were the cruel conquerors of the new world, had explored this river. from the ancestors of pinto's nation and from many another lesser indian tribe they had carried off a great treasure of gold and emeralds and diamonds. not satisfied with these, they had tried to enslave the indians and make them hunt for more. finally, in desperation the tribes united, stormed their persecutors' camp, killed some, and forced the rest to flee down the river in canoes. when the spaniards reached the rock, they landed, and, driving iron spikes at intervals up its steep side, managed to clamber up to the very crest and haul their treasure and stores of water and provisions after them by ropes made of lianas. there, safe from the arrows of their pursuers in the hollow top, they stood siege until the winter rains began. then, despairing of taking the fortress, the indians returned to their villages; whereupon the spaniards clambered down, the last man breaking off the iron spikes as he came, and escaped to the spanish settlements. behind them, in the inaccessible bowl on the tip-top of the rock, they left their treasure-chest, expecting to return with the reinforcements and rescue it. the years went by and the spaniards came not again to black river, but generation after generation of indians handed down the legend of treasure rock, with the iron-bound chest on its top, awaiting him who can scale its height. jud, a treasure-hunter by nature, was much impressed by pinto's story. "what do you think of takin' a week off and lookin' into this treasure business?" he suggested. "i'll undertake to get a rope over the top of this rock by a kite, or somethin' of that sort, an' then i know a young chap by the name of adams who would climb up there an' bring down a trunk full of gold an' gems. what do you say?" "pooh!" is what professor amandus ditson said, and the expedition proceeded in spite of jud's protests. chapter v shipwreck about the middle of the morning there sounded through the still air a distant boom, which grew louder until finally it became a crashing roar. beyond a bend in the river stretched before them a long gorge. there the stream had narrowed, and, rushing across a ledge shaped like a horseshoe, foamed and roared and beat its way among the great boulders. the paddlers brought their craft into smooth water under an overhanging bank while they held a council of war. professor ditson had never been on the rio negros before, nor had pinto followed it farther than treasure rock. for a long time the whole party carefully studied the distant rapids. "what do you think?" whispered will to joe. the indian boy, who had paddled long journeys on the rivers and seas of the far northwest, shook his head doubtfully. "can do in a bark canoe," he said at last; "but in this thing--i don't know." pinto and hen both feared the worst in regard to anything which had to do with black river. it was professor ditson who finally made the decision. "it would take us weeks," he said, "to cut a trail through the forests and portage this boat around. one must take some chances in life. there seems to be a channel through the very center of the horseshoe. let's go!" for the first time during the whole trip old jud looked at his rival admiringly. "the old bird has some pep left, after all," he whispered to will. "i want to tell you, boy," he went on, "that i've never seen worse rapids, an' if we bring this canal-boat through, it'll be more good luck than good management." under professor ditson's instructions, pinto took the bow paddle, while hen paddled stern, with will and joe on one side and jud and the professor on the other. then all the belongings of the party were shifted so as to ballast the unwieldy craft as well as possible, and in another moment they shot out into the swift current. faster and faster the trees and banks flashed by, like the screen of a motion picture. not even a fleck of foam broke the glassy surface of the swirling current. with smooth, increasing speed, the river raced toward the rapids which roared and foamed ahead, while swaying wreaths of white mist, shot through with rainbow colors, floated above the welter of raging waters and the roar of the river rose to shout. beyond, a black horseshoe of rock stretched from one bank to the other in a half-circle, and in front of it sharp ridges and snags showed like black fangs slavered with the foam of the river's madness. in another second the boat shot into the very grip of these jaws of death. standing with his lithe, copper-colored body etched against the foam of the rapids, the mundurucu held the lives of every one of the party in his slim, powerful hands. accustomed from boyhood to the handling of the river-boats of his tribe through the most dangerous of waters, he stood that day like the leader of an orchestra, directing every movement of those behind him, with his paddle for a baton. only a crew of the most skilled paddlers had a chance in that wild water; and such a crew was obedient to the indian. in the stern, the vast strength of the giant negro swung the montaria into the course which the bow paddler indicated by his motions, while the other four, watching his every movement, were quick to paddle or to back on their respective sides. at times, as an unexpected rock jutted up before him in the foam, the indian would plunge his paddle slantwise against the current and would hold the boat there for a second, until the paddlers could swing it, as on a fulcrum, out of danger. once the craft was swept with tremendous force directly at an immense boulder, against which the water surged and broke. to jud and the boys it seemed as if pinto had suddenly lost his control of the montaria, for, instead of trying to swing out of the grip of the currents that rushed upon the rock, he steered directly at its face. the mundurucu, however, knew his business. even as jud tensed his muscles for the crash, the rebound and undertow of the waters, hurled back from the face of the rock, caught the boat and whirled it safely to one side of the boulder. in and out among the reefs and fangs of rock the mundurucu threaded the boat so deftly, and so well did his crew behind him respond, that in all that tumult of dashing waves the heavy craft shipped no water outside of the flying spray. in another minute they were clear of the outlying reefs and ledges and speeding toward the single opening in the black jaw of rock that lay ahead of them. here it was that, through no fault of their steersman, the great mishap of the day overtook them. just beyond the gap in the rock was a little fall, not five feet high, hidden by the spray. as pinto passed through the narrow opening he swung the bow of the boat diagonally so as to catch the smoother current toward the right-hand bank of the river, which at this point jutted far out into the rapids. as he swerved, the long montaria shot through the air over the fall. the indian tried to straighten his course, but it was too late. in an instant the boat had struck at an angle the rushing water beyond, with a force that nearly drove it below the surface. before it could right itself, the rush of the current from behind struck it broadside, and in another second the montaria, half-filled with the water which it had shipped, capsized, and its crew were struggling in the current. it was hen pine who reached the river first. when he saw that the boat was certain to upset he realized that his only chance for life was to reach smooth water. even while the montaria was still in mid-air he sprang far out toward the bank, where a stretch of unbroken current set in toward a tiny cape, beyond which it doubled back into a chaos of tossing, foaming water where not even the strongest swimmer would have a chance for life. hen swam with every atom of his tremendous strength, in order to reach that point before he was swept into the rapids beyond. his bare black arms and vast shoulders, knotted and ridged with muscle, thrashed through the water with the thrust of a propeller-blade as he swam the river-crawl which he had learned from indian swimmers. for an instant it seemed as if he would lose, for when nearly abreast of the little cape several feet of racing current still lay between him and safety. sinking his head far under the water, he put every ounce of strength into three strokes, the last of which shot him just near enough to the bank to grip a tough liana which dangled like a rope from an overhanging tree-top. pinto, who was next, although no mean swimmer, would never have made the full distance, yet managed to grasp one of hen's brawny legs, which stretched far out into the current. "you hold on," he muttered to the great negro; "we make a monkey-bridge and save them all." hen only nodded his head and took a double turn of the lianas around each arm. professor ditson was the next one to win safety, for the two boys were staying by jud, who was a most indifferent swimmer. as the professor's long, thin legs dangled out into the current like a pair of tongs, with a desperate stroke will caught one of his ankles, and was gripped in turn by joe, and jud locked both of his arms around the latter's knees, while the swift river tossed his gray hair and beard along its surface. as the full force of the current caught this human chain it stretched and sagged ominously. then each link tightened up and prepared to hold as long as flesh and blood could stand the strain. "go ahead, jud!" gasped will over his shoulder; "pull yourself along until you get to shore; then joe will follow, and then i. only hurry--the professor won't be able to hold on much longer, nor hen to stand the strain." "don't hurry on my account," sounded the precise voice of professor ditson above the roar of the waters. "i can hold on as long as any one." and as he spoke will felt his gaunt body stiffen until it seemed all steel and whipcord. "same here!" bellowed hen, his magnificent body stretched out through the water as if on a rack. "take your time and come along careful." in another minute the old trapper had pulled his way hand over hand along the living bridge until he too had a grip on one of the dangling lianas. he was followed by link after link of the human chain until they were all safe at the edge of the bank. hen was the first to scramble up and give the others a helping hand, and a moment later all six of the treasure-seekers stood safe on the high ridge of the little promontory and sadly watched the boat which had borne them so well smash into a mass of floating, battered planks among the rocks and disappear down the current. along with it went their guns, their ammunition, and their supplies. jud alone retained the automatic revolver which he always wore, with a couple of clips holding sixteen cartridges, besides the eight in the cylinder. hen also could not be termed weaponless, for he still wore his machete; while will had a belt-ax, joe a light hatchet, and professor ditson a sheath-knife. besides these, the indian had his bamboo tinder-box and flint and steel, which he always wore in his belt. these and the jack-knives and a few miscellaneous articles which they happened to have in their pockets or fastened to their belts comprised the whole equipment of the party. before them stretched a hundred miles of uncharted jungle, infested by dangerous beasts and wandering cannibal tribes, through which they must pass to reach the old slave trail. half that distance behind them was the amazon. if once they could find their way back to that great river and camp on its banks, sooner or later a boat would go by which would take them back to manaos. this, however, might mean weeks of delay and perhaps the abandonment of the whole trip. as they stood upon a white sand-bank far enough back from the river so that the roar of the rapids no longer deafened them, it was pinto who spoke first. "master," he said to professor ditson, "it is no time for council. let us have fire and food first. a man thinks more wisely with his head when his stomach is warm and full." "i'll say the man is right," said jud, shivering a little in his wet clothes as the coolness of the approaching night began to be felt through the forest; "but where is that same fire and food goin' to come from?" pinto's answer was to scrape shavings from the midrib of a dry palm-leaf. when he had a little pile on the white sand in front of him, he opened the same kind of tinder-box that our ancestors used to carry less than a century and a half ago. taking out from this an old file and a bit of black flint, with a quick glancing blow he sent half a dozen sparks against a dry strip of feltlike substance found only in the nests of certain kinds of ants. in a minute a deep glow showed from the end of this tinder, and, placing it under the pile of shavings, pinto blew until the whole heap was in a light blaze. hastily piling dry wood on top of this, he left to the others the task of keeping the fire going and, followed by will, hurried through the jungle toward the towering fronds of a peach-palm, which showed above the other trees. twisting together two or three lianas, the indian made from them a light, strong belt. this he slipped around himself and the tree, and, gripping it in both hands, began to walk up the rough trunk, leaning against this girdle and pushing it up with each step, until, sixty feet from the ground, he came to where the fruit of the tree was clustered at its top. it grew in a group of six, each one looking like a gigantic, rosy peach a foot in diameter. in a moment they all came whizzing to the ground, and the two staggered back to the fire with the party's supper on their backs. stripping off the thick husk, pinto exposed a soft kernel which, when roasted on the coals, tasted like a delicious mixture of cheese and chestnuts. when at last all the members of the party were full-fed and dry, the wisdom of pinto's counsel was evident. every one was an optimist; and, after all, the best advice in life comes from optimists. even pinto and hen felt that, now that they had lived through the third misfortune, they need expect no further ill luck from the river. "forward or back--which!" was the way professor ditson put the question. "forward!" voted will. "forward!" grunted joe. jud seemed less positive. "i sure would hate to go back," he said, "after old jim donegan had grub-staked us, an' tell the old man that, while we're good pearlers, we're a total loss when it comes to emeralds. yet," he went on judicially, "there's a hundred miles of unexplored forests between us and the perfesser's trail, if there is any such thing. we've lost our guns; we've no provisions; we're likely to run across bands of roving cannibals; lastly, it may take us months to cut our way through this jungle. therefore i vote--forward!" "that's the stuff, jud!" exclaimed will, much relieved. "oh, i don't believe in takin' any chances," returned the old man, who had never done anything else all his life. "my idea is to always look at the dangers--an' then go ahead." "what about me?" objected hen. "i ain't a-goin' to cut no hundred miles of trail through this here jungle for nobody." the answer came, sudden and unexpected, from the forests. "john cut wood! john cut wood! john cut wood!" called some one, clearly. it was only a spotted goatsucker, a bird belonging to the same family as our northern whip-poor-will, but hen was much amused. "you hear what the bird say, you john pinto. get busy and cut wood," he laughed, slapping his friend mightily on the back. "all right," said the indian, smiling, "john _will_ cut wood. master," he said to professor ditson, "if all will help, i can make a montaria in less than a week, better than the one we lost. then we not have to cut our way through jungle." "pinto," said professor ditson, solemnly, for once dropping into slang, "the sense of this meeting is--that you go to it." that night they followed the bank until they found a place where it curved upward into a high, dry bluff. there, on soft white sand above the mosquito-belt, they slept the sleep of exhaustion. it was after midnight when will, who was sleeping between professor ditson and jud, suddenly awoke with a start. something had sniffed at his face. without moving, he opened his eyes and looked directly into a pair that flamed green through the darkness. in the half-light of the setting moon he saw, standing almost over him, a heavily built animal as big as a small lion. yet the short, upcurved tail and the rosettes of black against the gold of his skin showed the visitor to be none other than that terror of the jungle, the great jaguar, which in pioneer days used to come as far north as arkansas and is infinitely more to be feared than the panthers which our forefathers dreaded so. this one had none of the lithe grace of the cougars which will had met during the quest of the blue pearl, but gave him the same impression of stern tremendous strength and girth that a lion possesses. all of these details came to will the next day. at that moment, as he saw the great round head of this king of the south american forest within a foot of his own, he was probably the worst scared boy on the south american continent. will knew that a jaguar was able to drag a full-grown ox over a mile, and that this one could seize him by the throat, flirt his body over one shoulder, and disappear in the jungle almost before he could cry out. the great beast seemed, however, to be only mildly interested in him. probably he had fed earlier in the evening. even as will stared aghast into the gleaming eyes of the great cat, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, jud's right hand stealing toward his left shoulder. the old trapper, as usual, was wide awake when any danger threatened. before, however, he had time to reach his automatic, professor ditson, equally watchful from his side, suddenly clapped his hands together sharply, close to the jaguar's pricked-up ears. the effect was instantaneous. with a growl of alarm, the great beast sprang backward and disappeared like a shadow into the forest. the professor sat up. "that's the way to handle jaguars," he remarked. "he'll not come back. if you had shot him," he continued severely to jud, who held his cocked revolver in one hand, "he would have killed the boy and both of us before he died himself." and the professor lay down again to resume his interrupted slumbers. it was this occurrence which started a discussion the next morning in regard to weapons, offensive and defensive. "i 'low," said hen pine, making his heavy machete swing through the air as he whirled it around his head, "that i can stop anything i meet with this 'ere toothpick of mine." "hen," remarked jud, impressively, "do you see that round thing hangin' against the sky in the big tree about fifty yards away?" "yassah, yassah," responded hen, "that's a monkey-pot full of brazil-nuts." "well, boy," returned the old trapper, "just keep your eye on it." as he spoke he raised his automatic to the level of his hip, shooting without sighting, with that strange sixth sense of position which some of the great revolver-shots of a past generation used to acquire. there was a flash, a sharp spat, and the case of nuts about twice the size of a man's fist came whizzing to the ground. hen stared at the old trapper with his mouth open. "you is sure the hittenest shooter ever i see," he said at last. joe said nothing, but, drawing from his belt the keen little hatchet which he always carried, poised himself with his left foot forward, and, whirling the little weapon over his head, sent it hurtling through the air toward the same brazil-nut tree. the little ax buzzed like a bee and, describing a high curve, buried itself clear to the head in the soft bark. picking up a couple of heavy round stones, will put himself into a pitching position and sent one whizzing in a low straight peg which hardly rose at all and which struck the tree close to joe's hatchet with a smack which would have meant a broken bone for any man or beast that it struck; for, as joe had found out when the two were pursued by scar dawson's gang, will was a natural-born stone-thrower, with deadly speed and accuracy. it was professor ditson, however, who gave what was perhaps the most spectacular exhibition of all. standing before them, lean and gaunt, he suddenly reached to his belt and drew out a keen, bone-handled, double-edged sheath-knife. poising this flat on the palm of his hand, he threw it, with a quick jerk, with much the same motion of a cricket-bowler. the keen weapon hissed through the air like an arrow, and was found sunk nearly to the hilt in the bark between the mark of will's stone and the head of joe's hatchet. "when i was a very young man," the professor explained, embarrassed, "i attained a certain amount of proficiency with the bowie-knife." "i'll say you did!" exclaimed jud, as he worked the knife out of the tough bark. "any cannibal that comes within fifty yards of this party is liable to be chopped an' stabbed an' broken an' shot--to say nothin' of hen's machete at close quarters." pinto had watched these various performances in silence. "this evening," he said at last, "i show you a gun that kills without any noise." borrowing joe's hatchet, he disappeared into the woods, to come back half an hour later with a nine-foot stick of some hard, hollow, light wood about an inch in diameter, straight as an arrow, and with a center of soft pith. laying this down on a hard stump, pinto, with the utmost care, split the whole length into halves. then, fumbling in his belt he pulled from it one of the sharp teeth of the paca, that curious reddish rodent which is half-way in size and appearance between a hog and a hare and which is equally at home on land and in water, and whose two-inch cutting-teeth are among the favorite ready-made tools of all south american indians. with one of these pinto carefully hollowed out each section of the stick, smoothing and polishing the concave surface until it was like glass. then, fitting the two halves together, he wound them spirally with a long strip of tape which he made from the tough, supple wood of a climbing palm, waxed with the black wax of the stingless bees. when it was finished he had a light, hollow tube about nine feet long. at one end, which he tapered slightly, he fixed, upright, the tiny tooth of a mouse, which he pressed down until only a fleck of shining ivory showed as a sight above the black surface of the tube. at the other end he fitted in a cup-shaped mouthpiece, chiseled out of a bit of light, seasoned wood. by noon it was finished, and jud and the boys saw for the first time the deadly blow-gun of the mundurucu indians. for arrows, pinto cut tiny strips from the flinty leaf-stalks of palm-leaves. these he scraped until the end of each was as sharp as a needle. then he feathered them with little oval masses of silk from the seed-vessels of silk-cotton trees, whose silk is much fluffier and only about half the weight of ordinary cotton. in a short time he had made a couple of dozen of these arrows, each one of which fitted exactly to the bore of the blow-gun, and also fashioned for himself a quiver of plaited grasses, which he wore suspended from his shoulder with a strip of the palm tape. late in the afternoon he made another trip into the forest, returning with a mass of bark scraped from a tree called by the indians _mavacure_, but which the white settlers in south america have named the poison tree. this bark he wet in the river, and then pounded it between two stones into a mass of yellowish fibers, which he placed in a funnel made of a plantain-leaf. under this he set one of the aluminum cups which each of the party carried fastened to his belt. this done, he poured in cold water and let the mass drip until the cup was full of a yellow liquid, which he heated over a slow fire. when it thickened he poured in some of the milky juice of another near-by tree, which turned the mixture black. when it had boiled down to a thick gummy mass, pinto wrapped it up carefully in a palm-leaf, after first dipping every one of his arrows into the black compound. so ended the making of the famous urari arrow-poison, which few white men indeed have ever seen brewed. when it was safely put away, pinto carefully fitted one of the tiny arrows into the mouthpiece and raised the blow-gun to his mouth, holding it with both hands touching each other just beyond the mouthpiece, instead of extending his left arm, as a white man would hold a gun. even as he raised the long tube, there came a crashing through the near-by trees, and the party looked up to see a strange sight. rushing along the branches came a pale greenish-gray lizard, marked on the sides with black bars and fully six feet in length. along its back ran a crest of erect spines. even as its long compressed tail whisked through the foilage, a reddish animal, which resembled a lanky raccoon, sprang after it like a squirrel, following hard on its trail. "it's an' ol' coati chasin' a big iguana," muttered hen, as the pair went by. "they're both mighty fine eatin'." at first, the pursued and the pursuer seemed equally matched in speed. little by little, the rapid bounds of the mammal overtook the swift glides of the reptile, and in a tree-top some fifty yards away the iguana turned at bay. in spite of its size and the threatening, horrible appearance of its uplifted spines, the coati made short work of it, worrying it like a dog, and finally breaking its spine. even as its long bulk hung lifeless from the powerful jaws of the animal, pinto drew a deep breath and, sighting his long tube steadily toward the distant animal, drove his breath through the mouthpiece with all his force. there followed a startling pop, and a white speck flashed through the air toward the coati. a second later, the latter, still holding the dead iguana, gave a spring as if struck by something, and started off again through the tree-tops, the great body of the dead lizard trailing behind. suddenly the coati began to go slower and slower and then stopped short. its head drooped. first one paw and then another relaxed, until, with a thud, the coati and iguana struck the ground together both stone-dead. the boys rushed over and found pinto's tiny, deadly arrow embedded deep in the coati's side. less than a minute had passed since it had been struck, but the deadly urari had done its work. fortunately, this poison does not impair the food value of game, and later on, over a bed of coals, hen made good his words about their eating qualities. the coati tasted like roast 'possum, while the flesh of the giant lizard was as white and tender as chicken. "i feel as if i was eatin' a dragon," grumbled jud, coming back for a third helping. followed a week of hard work for all. under pinto's directions, taking turns with jud's ax, they cut down a yellow stonewood tree, which was almost as hard and heavy as its name. out of the trunk they shaped a log some nineteen feet in length and three feet through, which, with infinite pains and with lianas for ropes, they dragged on rollers to the water's edge. then, with enormous labor, working by shifts with joe's hatchet, jud's ax, and hen's machete, they managed to hollow out the great log. at the end of the fourth day, jud struck. "i'll work as hard as any man," he said, "but i got to have meat. if i work much longer on palm-nuts i'm liable to go plumb nutty myself." as the rest of the party felt the same craving, pinto and jud were told off to hunt for the rest of that day. it was jud who first came across game, a scant half-mile from camp, meeting there an animal which is one of the strangest still left on earth and which, along with the duck-bill of australia and the great armadillo, really belongs to a past age, before man came to earth, but by some strange accident has survived to this day. in front of him, digging in a dry bank with enormous curved claws, was an animal over six feet in length and about two feet in height. it had great hairy legs, and a tremendous bushy tail, like a vast plume, curled over its back. its head ended in a long, tapering, toothless snout, from which was thrust constantly a wormlike, flickering tongue, while a broad oblique stripe, half gray and half black, showed on either side. "there ain't no such animal," murmured jud to himself, examining the stranger with awe. pinto's face shone with pleasure when he came up. "it giant ant-eater and very good to eat," he remarked cheerfully. upon seeing them, the great beast shuffled away, but was soon brought to bay, when it stood with its back against the bank, swinging its long snout back and forth and making a little whining noise. jud was about to step in and kill it with a blow from his ax, but pinto held him back. "no get in close to ant-bear," he warned, pointing to the giant's claws. "he rip you to pieces. you watch." stepping back, the indian raised his blow-gun to his mouth. again came the fatal pop, and the next second one of the tiny arrows was embedded like a thorn in the side of the monster's snout. for a moment the great ant-eater tried to dislodge the tiny pointed shaft with his enormous claws. then he stopped, stood motionless for a while, swayed from side to side, and sank dead without a sound or struggle. with the help of jud's ax and his own knife, the indian soon quartered and dressed the great beast and an hour later the two staggered back to camp loaded down with a supply of meat which, when roasted, tasted much like tender pork. "now," said jud, smacking his lips after a full meal, "bring on your work!" chapter vi the black tiger under pinto's direction the hollow trunk was lifted up so that each end rested on a stump. then a slow fire was kindled under its whole length. pinto tended this most carefully, so that the heat would spread evenly. gradually, under the blaze, the green wood spread out. this was the most critical point in this forest boat-building, for if there were too much heat at any one point, a crack might start through the log and all the work of the week go for nothing. as the great log opened out, the indian moved constantly up and down its length, checking the blaze here and there with wet moss where the sides were spreading out too fast. at several different points he fitted in straddlers, with wedges made from stonewood branches. by skilfully changing the pressure of these and varying the heat at different points the hollowed log at last took on a graceful curve, with tapered turned-up ends. green strips of stonewood were fitted in for gunwales, and seats and semicircular end-boards put in place. then the long dugout was allowed to cool off gradually all through one night. as it contracted, it locked in place gunwales, seats and thwarts. another day was given to fashioning light paddles out of palm-wood; and then at last, one week after their shipwreck, these latter-day argonauts were once more afloat upon black river. there followed long days, in each of which three seasons were perfectly reproduced. the mornings had all the chill of early spring; by noon came the blinding heat of midsummer; and the nights, of the same length as the days, had the frosty tang of autumn. during the morning of each day they paddled, lying by at noon-time in cool, shaded lagoons where they slept or fished. at other times they would collect nuts and fruits on the shore, under the direction of professor ditson, or take turns in going with pinto on short hunting-trips, during which all kinds of strange game would fall before his deadly blow-gun. it was jud who went with him on the first of these hunts. as they came to the bank of one of the many streams that ran into the black river, the old trapper caught sight of a strange animal on the bank which looked like a great guinea-pig about the size of a sheep. its wet hide was all shining black in the sunlight, and even as jud turned to ask the indian what it was, there sounded just behind him the fatal pop of the blow-gun, a venomous little arrow buzzed through the air, and a second later was sticking deep in the beast's blunt muzzle. like an enormous muskrat, the stranger scrambled to the edge of the stream, plunged in, and disappeared in the dark water. "that was a capybara," pinto informed jud. "well, you've lost him all right, whatever he was," returned the latter. "wait," was all that pinto would say. a few minutes later, the limp, dead body of the capybara, the largest of all aquatic rodents floated to the surface. jud was about to wade into the shallow water and secure it when he was stopped by the mundurucu. "never put your hand or foot into strange water," he said. "you may lose 'em." without explaining himself, he cut a long pole and carefully towed the dead animal to shore. that night the whole party camped on a high, dry, sandy bluff where pinto and hen dressed the capybara and roasted parts of it on long green spits of ironwood. will sampled the dank, dark meat cautiously. "tastes like a woodchuck i once tried to eat," he remarked, after one mouthful. "you can have my share." and he went back to palm-nuts. from another trip, pinto brought back a coaita, one of the spider-monkeys which had so affected will's appetite on the occasion of their first meal at professor ditson's house. this one had a long, lank body covered with coarse black hair, while its spectral little face was set in a mass of white whiskers. will ate the rich, sweet meat shudderingly. "it looks just like a little old man," he protested. "but it tastes better," observed the hardened jud, passing his bark plate for another helping. it was jud and will who accompanied pinto on the third and most eventful trip of all. the boat had been beached at the slope of a high bank; and, while the others dozed or slept, pinto and his two companions started through the woods on their hunt for any game which might add some kind of meat to their menu. a hundred yards from the bank the jungle deepened and darkened. everywhere the strangler-fig was killing straight, slim palms and towering silk-cotton and paradise-nut trees. at first, this assassin among the tree-folk runs up its victim's trunk like a vine. as the years go by, it sends out shoots and stems around and around the tree it has chosen. these join and grow together, forming a vast hollow trunk, in the grip of which the other tree dies. pools of black water showed here and there at the foot of the strangled trees, and something sinister seemed to hang over this stretch of jungle. "feels kind of creepy here," jud confided to will. "looks just the kind of a place for some of hen's haunts," he went on. even as he spoke, there sounded among the distant trees ominous grunting groans, and here and there among the shadows dark shapes could be seen moving about. the fierce moaning grew louder, mingled with a clicking noise like castanets. "peccaries!" muttered jud. "i've hunted the little ones down in mexico. they were liable to bite a piece out of you as big as a tea-cup. i'm in favor of lettin' these big fellows strictly alone." "quiet, quiet!" muttered the indian, slipping behind a tree and motioning his companions to do likewise. "they go by in a minute, and i take off the last one with my blow-gun." instead of doing this, however, the great herd spread out through the woods, grunting and groaning and clattering their sharp tusks. as they came closer and closer, each of the peccaries seemed nearly as large as the wild boar of european forests, while their lips and lower jaws were pure white. the mundurucu showed signs of alarm. "something has stirred them up," he muttered. "if they see us, they charge. better each one choose a tree." even as he spoke, the leading peccary, whose gleaming tusks thrust out like keen knives from each side of his white jowl, glimpsed the little party in the shadows. with a deep groan, he lowered his head and charged at full speed, his tusks clattering as he came, while the white foam showed like snow against the raised bristles of his back. the whole herd followed--a nightmare of fierce heads, gleaming red eyes, and clicking, dagger-like tusks. against such a rush jud's automatic was as useless as pinto's blow-gun or will's throwing-stones. there was only one thing to do, and, with the utmost promptness all three of the party did it. jud went up the vinelike trunk of a small strangler-fig hand over hand, nor ever stopped until he was safe astride the branch of a stonewood tree, twenty feet from the ground. pinto, gripping the rough red bark of a cow tree, walked up it indian fashion until he was safely seated in a crotch far above the ground. will was not so fortunate. near him was the smooth bark of an assai-palm. twice he tried to climb it, and twice slipped back. then, with every muscle tense, he dodged behind it and sprinted, as he had never run before, across a little opening to where a vast strangler-fig had swallowed a brazil-nut tree in its octopus grip. the rush of the charging herd was hard on his heels as he reached the tree, and he had just time to swerve around its trunk and grip one of the vinelike tentacles which had not yet become a part of the solid shell of the strangler. even as he swung himself from the ground, the bristling head of one of the herd struck against his feet, and he kicked them aloft just in time to avoid the quick double slash of the sharp tusks that followed. up and up he went, while the whole shell-like structure of the fig swayed and bent under his weight and dry dust from the dead nut tree powdered down upon him in showers. finally he reached a safe stopping-place, where he could stand with both feet resting in a loop which the snakelike fig had made in one of its twisting turns around its victim. for a few minutes the trio in the tree-tops sat and stared in silence at one another and the weaving, champing herd of furious beasts below. it was jud who spoke first. "it's your move, captain pinto," he remarked. "what do we do next?" "sit still until they go away," returned the indian despondently. "how many arrows have you left?" inquired will from his tree. "ten." "i've got sixteen shots in my locker," observed jud, from his perch; "but there must be nearly a hundred pigs in this herd; an' if these big fellows are like the chaps i knew in mexico, the more you kill, the more those that are left will try to kill you." "the only thing to do is to sit still," repeated the mundurucu. "perhaps they go 'way before night." "perhaps they don't, too," grumbled jud. "a pig's an obstinate critter at his best, an' a peccary's a pig at his worst!" as time went on, conversation among the besieged flagged and each one settled down to endure the wait as best he might. will amused himself by watching the birds which passed him among the tree-tops and listening to some of their strange and beautiful songs. at any time of the year and in any part of the world, a bird-student can always find pleasure in his hobby where unseeing, unhearing people find nothing of interest. to-day the first bird that caught his eye looked something like a crow, save that it had a crest of curved, hairy feathers, which at times, on its perch in a neighboring tree, it would raise and spread out over its head like a fringed parasol. from its breast swung a pad of feather-covered flesh, and, as it perched, it would every now and then give a deep low flute-note, raising its parasol each time in a most comical manner. "what's that bird, pinto?" will inquired, after he had watched it delightedly for a long time. "he umbrella-bird," returned the other, indifferently; "no good to eat." for the mundurucu had a very simple system of ornithology--he divided all birds into two groups, those that were good to eat and those that were not. the next bird which passed by aroused the interest even of jud, who cared even less for birds than did the indian. through the dim light of the sinister forest, above the raging, swinish herd, flitted a bird of almost unearthly beauty, a parrot over three feet in length, of a soft, hyacinthine blue except around the eyes, where the bare skin showed white. as will watched it delightedly, he recognized the bird as the hyacinthine macaw, the largest, most beautiful, and one of the rarest of all the parrot family. even as he looked, the great bird alighted on a neighboring brazil-nut tree and immediately showed itself to be as efficient as it was beautiful. seizing in its great black beak one of the tough, thick nut-cases, called "monkey-pots" by the indians, it proceeded to twist off its top and open up a side, although a man finds difficulty in doing this even with a hammer and chisel. drawing out one brazil-nut after another, it crushed them, in spite of their hard, thick shells, into a pulp, which it swallowed. then it flew away, leaving will staring regretfully after it. as noon approached, the vines and the tree-trunks seemed to hold and radiate the heat like boiler-tubes. gradually it rose and concentrated until the forest seemed to throb and pulsate like a furnace. then a cicada began to sound. it began with a low, jarring note, something like the creaking of our ordinary katydid. this increased slowly in loudness and volume until at last it ended with an almost unendurable siren-whistle note which seemed to shake the very leaves of the trees. again and again and again this performance was repeated, until will, deafened and stunned by the noise, dizzy with the heat, and cramped and tired of standing on his narrow perch, thought with an almost unutterable longing of the dark, cool river and the shaded boat where the rest of the party were even now taking their noontide nap. suddenly, when it seemed to will as if his tortured brain absolutely could not stand one more repetition of this song, the talented cicada, with one farewell screech that surpassed all previous efforts, lay off for the day. for a few minutes there was almost complete silence in the darkened forest. many of the guardian herd had laid down, wallowing in the soft mold and fallen leaves, while others, although they stared redly up into the tree-tops, no longer moved around and around in a circle of which the trapped hunters were the center. suddenly, from the depths of a near-by tree, a pure, sweet, contralto voice sounded, as if some boy were singing to himself. for a moment it rose and fell, and then followed a few plaintive notes almost like those of a tiny flute. then a slow melody began, full of mellow notes, only to be broken off abruptly. after a pause, there came a few clicking notes like those made by a music-box as it runs down, and the performance was over. although the song came from the dark, glossy leaves of the very next tree, stare as he would, will could gain no sight of the singer. twice more the same thing happened. each time he listened with a feeling that this time the tune would be finished and would be such as no mortal ears had heard before; but each time the song would die away in futile clicking notes. when at last the silence was again unbroken, will turned toward the indian. "what was it, pinto?" he asked softly. "that organ-bird." "what does it look like?" "don't know. no one ever see it." "how do you know it's a bird?" "professor ditson say so," returned pinto, conclusively. "that settles it," broke in jud, jealously, from his tree. "he never saw it; nobody ever saw it; but the professor calls it an organ-bird. if he said it was an angel, i suppose it _would_ be an angel." "yes," returned the indian placidly. the argument was suddenly ended for will in a terrible manner. a sharp, burning pain shot through his left shoulder, as if a red-hot coal had been pressed there. as he turned, he saw, trickling down the tree-trunk, long crimson streams, one of which had already reached him, and he recognized, to his horror, a troop of the dreaded fire-ants. even as he looked, the bites of several others pierced his skin, and the pain ran like a liquid poison through his veins as each blood-red ant rushed forward and buried its envenomed jaws deep into his flesh. brushing off with frantic haste those torturers that had succeeded in reaching him, the boy began to slip down the vine toward the ground, for it was no more possible to resist this red torrent of poison and agony than it would be to stand against a creeping fire or a stream of molten lava. old jud heard the involuntary cry, which the sudden pain had wrung from will, and looked over, only to see the red columns of ants streaming slowly, inevitably down the tree, driving will before them to what seemed certain death. the peccary herd, aroused by his movements, had gathered around the tree in close-packed ranks, and frothing, clattering, and moaning, waited for him, making a circle of gleaming tusks. "go back!" called out jud. "go back! you can't possibly get through 'em." "i can't!" called back will. "i'd rather die fighting than be tortured to death up here." as he spoke he slid another yard toward the ground. jud drew in his breath in a gasp that was almost a groan, and, unslinging his ready automatic, began to scramble down to the ground." "what you do?" called out the indian, aghast, from his tree. "i'm a-goin' to stand by that kid," said the old trapper, grimly. "i'll never go back to the boat alive without him." "stay where you are, jud," shouted will, desperately, as he gripped the keen hatchet which he had borrowed from joe when he started on this ill-omened hunt. "come on, boy!" shouted the trapper, unheedingly, as he neared the ground. "i'll meet you, an' you fight through them to my tree. the old man's a-goin' to be right with you." his words were punctuated by the deadly pop of pinto's blow-gun. although the indian could not attain to jud's height of self-sacrifice, yet he had made up his mind to do all that he could do to save the boy with the weapon he had. again and again and again, as fast as he could level, load, and discharge his long blow-pipe, the fatal little arrows sped through the gloom and buried themselves in the thick hides of the peccaries. already some of the inner ring were wavering and staggering under the effects of the deadly urari poison. the sight of their stricken comrades, however, only seemed to drive the herd into deeper depths of dumb, unreasoning madness. they pressed closer and closer to the tree, trampling their dead and dying comrades unheedingly underfoot, and the chorus of moaning grunts and clicking tusks sounded loud and louder. the blood-red stream of fire-ants was half-way down the tree by this time, and will was within a scant ten feet of the ground. the ants were very close as he lowered himself another yard, then a foot lower, and a foot beyond that, until the tusks of the plunging, leaping peccaries beneath him nearly touched his shoes. bracing his feet against the rough trunk, he drew the little ax from his belt, and prepared to spring as far out toward jud's tree as possible, although his heart sank and the flesh of his legs and thighs seemed to curl and chill as he looked out upon the gleaming ring of sharp, slashing tusks among which he must leap. once downed by the herd, and he would be ripped to pieces before he could regain his feet. jud by this time was on the ground, and was just about to shoot, in an attempt to open a passage through the packed herd, when unexpected help came from above. out of the dark depths of a near-by silk-cotton tree sprang with silent swiftness a great black figure which gleamed in the half-light like watered silk. "look out! look out! the black tiger!" shouted pinto, despairingly, from his tree, having shot his last arrow into the frothing circle. even as he spoke, the "tiger," as the indians call the jaguar, landed full on the back and shoulders of the hindmost of the desperate, raging circle. as he landed, the great cat struck one blow with that terrible full stroke of a jaguar, which has been known to break the neck of an ox, and the peccary, with a shrill squeal of terror, went down before the death which haunts every peccary herd. at the squeal, the wild swine swung away from the tree with an instantaneous rush. a jaguar is to a peccary herd what the gray wolf is to the musk-ox of the north and the very life of each member of the herd depends upon facing their foe. upon the instant, every peccary left the trees and hurried toward their dying comrade. unfortunately for the jaguar, the force of his spring, added to the impetus of his stroke, carried him too far, and for a moment he whirled over in a half-somersault and was entangled among the vines. those lost seconds were fatal, in spite of all his strength and swiftness. even as he recovered his feet in a lithe whirl and flirted over one shoulder the body of the dead peccary as a man might toss a rabbit, the death-ring formed around him. two deep, the maddened swine circled him. with a deep, coughing roar, the tiger dropped his prey and struck with his armed paws lightning-like blows that ripped the life out wherever they landed. by this time, however, the peccaries were beyond all fear of death, and a score of them dashed in upon him. jud had involuntarily leveled his automatic at the great brute as it struck the ground, but lowered it with a grim laugh. "he's fightin' for our lives as well as his own," he called quietly to will, as the latter reached the ground and slipped unnoticed past the heaving, tossing, fighting circle of peccaries. in another minute the boy had gained the safety of jud's tree and gripped the old man's hand between his own. "let's stay here," said the old trapper, "an' see it out. we can climb this tree if they come back, an' you'll never see a fight like this again." even as he spoke, the circle bent in upon the great cat. with desperate leaps, he tried to spring over its circumference; but each time it widened out so that always in front and at his back and on both flanks was a fence of sharp, slashing tusks. all around him lay dead peccaries which had fallen before his incredibly rapid strokes; but now his dark, gleaming skin was furrowed and slit with long bloody slashes where the tusks of dead and dying boars had gone home. his strength ebbed with his blood. once more, with a deep, despairing roar, he struck with both paws, killing a peccary at each blow. then he staggered forward, and in a minute was down! time and again his great jaws opened and closed, sinking fierce white fangs deep through the skull or spine of some peccary, but at last only a black heaving of the furious wild pigs could be seen. at times the dark, desperate head of the dying tiger thrust its way out, only to fall back, smothered and slashed. amid a scene of brute rage and fury which even jud, old hunter as he was, had never imagined before, the little party slipped shudderingly away and hastened back over the trail along which they had come, nor ever stopped until they had reached the refuge of the montaria. there they found the rest of the party peacefully sleeping through the midday hours under a cool canopy of broad green palm-leaves which hen had thrown together. professor ditson was more interested in their description of the black tiger than in any of the other details of their adventure. "it was the melanic type of the jaguar and very rare," he said regretfully. "it was certainly unfortunate that you couldn't have collected this one, for there is no specimen, living or dead, in any of the zoölogical gardens or natural-history museums of the world." "you see, professor," explained jud, "we were kind o' busy in keepin' some seventy-five peccaries from collectin' us. what does 'melanic' mean in american?" "any animal may develop either a black or a white type," explained the professor. "when black, it is called 'melanic'; when white, 'albino.' you probably have seen black squirrels, muskrats, or skunks. they are simply color-variations of the ordinary species. so this 'black tiger' was only a jaguar which for some unknown reason happened to have a black skin. these black examples," he continued, "are neither fiercer nor larger than the ordinary kind, although generally considered so by unscientific observers." "what about some of those peccaries?" remarked joe, practically. "can't we bring in one or two that pinto killed for fresh meat?" "no, sir," returned jud, emphatically, "i wouldn't go back into that black bit of woods for all the fresh peccary pork in south america." it was hen pine who noted that will had taken no part in the discussion, and that he was flushed and feverish and suffering intensely from the intolerable pain of the fire-ant bites. "honey, you come along with ol' hen," he said soothingly, "an' he'll fix you up so that you won't feel that fire-poison hurtin' any more." followed by will, he led the way along the river-bank until they came to a small, round-topped tree with intensely green leaves. with his machete, hen cut off several of the smaller branches. from the severed ends a thick, brilliant red sap oozed. "it's the dragon's-blood tree," he explained "an' its juice makes the best balm in the world for burns or stings." as he spoke he rubbed the thick, gummy liquid gently on the swollen and inflamed welts which the venomous bites of the fire-ants had raised on will's shoulders and back. almost instantly the throbbing, rankling pain stopped, and there came such a feeling of grateful coolness that will told hen it was almost worth the pain of the bite to feel the relief of the cure. on the way back, hen discovered another tree which brought the rest of the party nearly as much pleasure as the dragon's-blood had given to will. it had long, glossy leaves, and a straight smooth trunk as large around as a man's body, though it was only about twenty feet high. it was loaded down with what looked like huge plums nearly the size of muskmelons. hen told will that it was the wild papaw tree. the fruit was delicious. when they brought back samples to the rest of the party, there was a stampede to the place and the boat was soon loaded with the luscious fruit. as they explored the bank farther, jud noticed that hen was constantly chewing the dark green leaves of the wild cinnamon, which grew abundantly and had a spicy, pleasant smell like the well-known bark of that name. without saying anything to hen, the old man picked several and sampled them. unfortunately for him, it takes prolonged practice to be able to chew wild cinnamon with any degree of comfort. as the fragrant fiery juice touched jud's tongue and gums he gasped, the tears ran from his eyes as if he had swallowed red pepper, and he spat out the burning leaves emphatically. "you must have a leather-lined mouth," he remarked to the grinning negro. a little later, hen added insult to the injury of the old trapper. they had come to a small tree loaded down with little round, rosy, fruit. "that what you need, mars' jud," hen assured him. thinking that it was perhaps a smaller edition of the papaw tree, jud trustingly sank his teeth into one of the little spheres, only to find it bitter as gall. "what do you mean by tellin' me i need anything that tastes like that," he howled. "i didn't say for you to _eat_ it," laughed the black giant. "i say you needed it. that tree the soap-tree," and hen pointed to jud's grimy hands suggestively. "i guess we all need it," interrupted will, tactfully, before jud could express his indignation further. picking handfuls of the little fruit, each one of the party dipped his hands into a pool near the river bank. the waxy surface of the rosy balls dissolved in a froth of lather which left their hands as clean and white as the best of soap could have done. as the day waned and the coolness of the late afternoon stole through the heat, the montaria was again loosed from the bank. all that night, under the light of another glorious full moon, they traveled fast and far. at last, just as the sun rose, there sounded a distant boom. it became louder and louder until the air quivered and the dark surface of the river showed here and there flecks and blobs of foam. then, as they swept around a bend in the black stream, there appeared before them a sight of unearthly beauty not seen of white men for twice two hundred years. chapter vii the yellow snake over a vast horseshoe of towering crags, with a drumming roar, the dark, resistless river rushed in a mass of snowy foam and broken rainbows down into the whirling caldron below. "the falls of utiarity," whispered pinto, as he guided the boat into a little bend by the bank just above where the terrible downward glide of the river began. making fast to a tree on shore, the whole party stared across at the most beautiful waterfall on earth, as if they could never see enough of its beauty. something seemed to give way in will's brain, and for a long minute he felt as if he were entering a new and strange world. dim, unearthly images seemed to float before him. he thought of the great white throne in revelation--the mystic emerald circled by a rainbow and the pavement of a single sapphire-stone. before him was the beautiful water, sinking into the abyss, yet flowing on forever, while a great rainbow trembled, faded, then came again through the mist and spray like a beautiful spirit walking the waters. with the terror, the rush, and the roar of the crashing waters, was a beauty not of earth that took away all fear, until he seemed to be gazing into the seventh heaven and seeing that which was unlawful for mortal man to look upon. only a moment, and once more he was back in the body and found himself looking confusedly into the faces of his companions, all of whom had felt something of the same uplift. without a word, the indian edged the canoe along the shore and into the mouth of a deep lagoon, half-hidden by overhanging trees. beyond these it widened out and ended in a high, bare bank. back from this stretched a narrow path, showing like a long line through the dark green of the jungle. its surface was trodden ominously hard and smooth, as if crossed and recrossed by many bare feet. "the trail," said pinto, softly. "the trail," echoed professor ditson, as they all stared along the thin line which pierced the forest and led away and across the vast basin of the amazon and on and past the guarded heights of peru until it reached the mines from which spain had dug the gold which enabled her to conquer and hold half the world. only the cruel, fierce, dogged fighters of spain as she was four hundred years ago could have cut this path. even then, when men thought little of life or of accomplishing the impossible, the trail stood forth as a great achievement, every mile of which had cost the lives of men. for a time, the adventurers stared in silence at the brown line athwart the green, the sign and seal of an empire long passed away. then pinto grounded the montaria at the edge of the bank, and, after all of the party had disembarked with their scanty equipment, pulled the boat, with hen's help, back of a screen of tangled vines, marked by a slender assai-palm, until it was completely hidden from sight. "if we are successful," remarked professor ditson, "we'll never see that boat again. if we are driven back along this trail, it may save our lives." there was a silence. for the first time the boys and jud realized that their leader definitely expected perils other than those ever present from the wild creatures that guarded the beautiful, treacherous, mysterious forests of this southern continent. "are the injuns down here dangerous?" inquired jud, at last. "the personal habits of some of them do not commend themselves even to the most broad-minded investigators," returned the professor, precisely. "such as--" questioned jud, again. "well," replied the scientist, slowly, "for one thing, the wild tribes of this part of the amazon basin invariably eat any captives they make. then--" "that's enough," broke in jud. "after i've been eaten i don't care what they do next. what might be the names of these gentlemen?" "the mayas, i think, are the tribe we shall be most likely to meet," said professor ditson, reflectively. "they have no fixed homes, but wander through the forest, guiding themselves by the sun, and sleep in the tree-tops like monkeys wherever they happen to be when night comes. they hunt men, red, white, or black," he went on; "yet, if indian traditions can be depended upon, we do not need to be afraid of them so long as we keep to the trail." "how's that?" inquired will, intensely interested. "every tribe which refers to the trail," the scientist informed them, "speaks of a custom called the 'truce of the trail,' under which travelers along that road are safe from attack." "does that there truce," interposed jud, "take in white men, or is it only for redskins?" "that," returned the professor, "is not certain. some say yes, some say no." "the question is," murmured jud, "what do the mayas say?" "if we pass the trail in safety," went on professor ditson, "we still may expect trouble from dawson after we get into the peruvian highlands. he has great influence with a band of indian outlaws who call themselves the miranhas, or killers, and may persuade them to ambush us in order to secure the map." "i sure am lookin' forward to this pleasure-trip of ours," confided jud to will. during the first day along the trail, will, who was next to pinto, tried to pass away the time by learning a few words of mundurucu. his first lessons in that language, however, were somewhat discouraging, since the dialects of the south american indians contain perhaps more syllables to a word than any other language on earth. "pinto," he began, "i'll point to things, and you tell me what they are in indian, and keep on saying it over and over until i learn it." "all right," agreed the mundurucu. "professor pinto," went on will solemnly, pointing to his hand, "what's that?" "in-tee-ti-pix-tee-e-toke-kee-kee-tay-gaw," clattered pinto, in a breath. "hey, hold up there," said will. "try it in low." half an hour later found him still working on that single word. "whew!" he remarked when he finally had it memorized, "i've heard it takes eight years to learn eskimo. it's liable to take me eighty before i can talk mundurucu. what about this one?" he went on, undiscouraged, pointing to a curious tree with a mahogany-red bark--which, if he had but known it, was a stranger whose seeds had in some way drifted down from much farther north. "e-lit-ta-pix-tee-e-fa-cho-to-kee-not-e," said pinto, slowly and distinctly. for fifteen minutes will wrestled with this new word. "do you know what he said?" at last interrupted professor ditson, who had been listening to the lesson. "he gave me the name for that tree, didn't he?" returned will, a little peevishly. "not at all," said the scientist. "he simply said, 'i don't know.'" "not so blame simply, either," murmured jud, who had also been following the lesson. "our own language is full of similar mistakes imported from native dialects," lectured professor ditson. "'kangaroo' simply means 'i don't know' in bushman; so do 'mosquito' and 'quinine' and 'cockatoo' in different indian languages." "well," said will, "i'm going to pass up mundurucu. here i've spent the better part of an hour in learning two words--and one of them isn't right." "it's a gift, my boy," said jud, patronizingly. "as for myself, i once learned three indian languages, apache, comanche, an' sioux, in less than a month." "indeed!" broke in professor ditson, cuttingly. "you surprise me. won't you favor me with a few sentences in apache?" "surely," returned jud, generously. "ask me anything you like in apache, an' i'll be glad to answer it in the same language." the appearance of a small pond ahead put a stop to further adventure in linguistics, since pinto had promised to catch some fish from the next water they met. as they came to the shore, suddenly, before jud's astonished eyes, a fish about a foot long thrust its head out of the dark water, opened its mouth, and breathed like any mammal. a moment later it meowed like a cat, growled like a dog, and then went under. "i'll never dare tell 'em about this in cornwall," exclaimed jud, earnestly, as the talented fish disappeared. "they'd think i was exaggeratin', an' that's one thing i never do. this trip," he went on reflectively, "is liable to make me believe blame near anything." it was professor ditson who told them that the strange fish was a lung-fish and was a link between the fishes and the reptiles. a little later, pinto, with a length of flexible palm-fiber, noosed a garpike, that strange representative of the oldest family of fishes left on earth, and another link with the reptiles. its vertebræ had ball-and-socket joints like the spine of a snake, and, unlike any other fish, it could move its head independently of its body. armored scales arranged in diagonal rows ran down its back, being fastened to each other by a system of hooks, instead of lapping over each other like the scales of other fishes. this armor was of such flinty hardness that pinto struck a spark from it with his steel, and actually lighted from its own scales the fire on which the fish was cooked. by this pond grew a great orchid with thirty-one flower-stems, on one of which will counted over a thousand beautiful pearl-and-gold blossoms. near the water, too, were many varieties of tropical birds flaming through the trees. among them were flocks of paraquets colored green and blue and red; little honey-creepers with black, purple, and turquoise plumage and brilliant scarlet feet; and exquisite tiny tanagers like clusters of jewels with their lilac throats, turquoise breasts, topaz crowns, and purple-black backs shading into ruby red. these were all searching for insects, while among the blossoms whirred dainty little humming-birds of the variety known as "wood-stars." then there were blood-red macaws with blue-and-gold wings, and lustrous green-black toucans with white throats, red-and-yellow tail-coverts, and huge black-and-yellow bills. for the next few days the treasure-hunters followed the narrow, hard-beaten path through stretches of dark jungle and thorny thickets, or found themselves skirting lonely lakes hidden in the very heart of the virgin forest. everywhere the trail was omniously clear and hard-trodden. sometimes they all had that strange knowledge that they were being watched, which human beings who live in the open acquire as well as the wild folk. at last there came a day when the supplies had run so low that it became necessary for pinto to do some hunting. will went with him, and together they silently and cautiously followed one of the many little paths that at irregular intervals branched off from the main trail. this one was so hidden by vines and creepers that it seemed improbable that any one had used it for a long period of time. it led the hunters into one of the patches of open country sometimes found in the forests of the amazon. this particular one was fringed with great trees and crossed by another path nearly parallel to the one they were following. near the center of the clearing, pinto managed to shoot two curassows, huge, plump birds which looked and tasted much like turkeys. leaving these with his companion, the indian pushed on ahead for more. suddenly he reappeared among the trees, and will noticed as he hurried toward him, that his copper-colored face showed gray and drawn, while beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. as he joined the boy, pinto placed his finger on his lips with a look of ghastly terror and led will into the deepest part of a near-by thicket. from there, though hidden from sight, they had a view through the close-set bushes of the other path. suddenly, from far down that trail, sounded a faint, but regular, clicking noise. as it became louder and louder, rising and falling in a regular cadence, pinto slipped like a snake deeper into the long jungle-grass. "lie still for your life," he whispered in will's ear, so faintly that the boy could scarcely make out the words. then, in an instant, from out of the jungle not twenty feet away there strode along the dim path a figure of nightmare horror--that of a tall naked man, with gaunt and fleshless arms and legs, great knobs of bone marking his knee and elbow-joints. his sunken body was painted black, with every bone outlined in a chalky white, so that he seemed a living, walking skeleton. around the black and wasted neck, wrinkled like that of a mummy, hung a long string of small bones which, with a thrill of horror, the boy recognized by their nails as those of human fingers. it was these, striking together, which made the clicking noise that will had heard. the face of the horror was painted black, except the lips and chin, which showed blood-red, while out of the holes at the corners of the lower lip protruded curved, gleaming peccary-tusks. these ornaments gave an indescribably brutish appearance to the countenance that they ornamented, while above them two snaky black eyes with an expression of implacable cruelty glittered like crumbs of glass from under overhanging brows. like a specter, the shape disappeared among the shadows; but it was followed by another and another and another, until a long procession of terrible figures had passed. as the ill-omened clicking died away in the distance will sprang to his feet. "no!" hissed the indian. "our only chance of life is to lie quiet. that is a maya war-party on a man-hunt!" "they'll meet the others on the trail," whispered will. "six men can't do any more against fifty than two," returned pinto, practically. "we'll only throw away our lives and not save theirs." "stay if you want," returned the boy; "i'll live or die with them!" and he sped back at full speed along the path over which they had come. just before he reached the trail he looked back--and there was pinto at his shoulder. "very foolish," the latter muttered, "but--i come too." down the trail the two hurried, and, rounding a bend, burst in suddenly upon the rest of the party lying in the shade of the overhanging trees awaiting their return. "mayas! mayas!" gasped pinto. as he spoke, far down the trail from around a curve sounded the faint, ominous clicking which the two hunters had heard before. it was then that the old scientist showed that he deserved the right to lead which he claimed. "stand still!" he said sternly to pinto, as the latter seemed inclined to bolt down the trail away from the fatal sound. "put up your gun!" he ordered jud; "the truce is our only chance." then, with quick, decisive commands, he lined the party up so that no part of the body of any one of them extended beyond the surface of the trail, and yet a space was left wide enough to allow any others using the path to pass. at the head of the line he placed the two indians, joe and pinto, so that the mayas might note the presence in the party of members of their own race. "show the peace sign," he snapped sharply to joe, who led the line. "brace up!" he went on, slapping pinto sharply on his bare back; "don't look so scared. no matter what they do," he said, turning to the rest of the company, "don't leave the trail for a second or make any kind of attack on them. they will probably try to make us break the truce of the trail. if any of us do, we are all lost." "my peace sign," muttered jud, grimly, "will be an automatic in one hand an' this little toothpick in the other," and he opened the five-inch blade of the jack-knife with which he had killed old three toes, the grizzly, as already chronicled in "the blue pearl." "if i'm goin' to be eaten," he went on, "there'll be eighteen mayas that ain't goin' to have any appetite for the meal"; and he shifted the single clip of cartridges remaining, so that he could feed them into the automatic if it came to a last stand. all further conversation was ended by the appearance of the same horrible apparition which had so terrified pinto a short time before. as the gaunt painted skeleton of the first maya showed against the green background, surmounted by the black and blood-red face with the grinning tusks and implacable eyes, an involuntary gasp went up from the whole waiting party. jud slipped the safety-catch from his revolver; pinto's face looked as if suddenly powdered with ashes; will's hands stole to the hatchet at his belt; while, down at the end of the line, hen pine gripped his heavy machete until his great muscles stood out like iron bands. two of the party alone showed no sign of any emotion: joe, the descendant of a long line of proud chippewa chiefs, disdainfully stretched out both empty hands palms up in the peace-sign; while professor ditson's calm face seemed to show only the mild interest of a scientist. as the leading maya caught sight of the waiting line, he slowed his swift stride and the war-party crept up close and closer. then came the tense moment which would decide whether the truce was to hold. as the grim hunters moved up, there was no sign on the face of any of them of any acceptance of the peace which joe had offered. with short, gliding steps, they made a complete circle around the little party, closing up until their menacing, fearful faces were less than a foot away and the reek of their naked bodies was like the hot taint of jaguars of the jungle in the nostrils of the waiting six. in their left hands they carried bows and quivers of fiercely fanged arrows gummed with fatal venom, while from their belts swung curved, saw-toothed knives and short, heavy clubs, the heads of which were studded with alligators' teeth. as the mayas came closer, the waiting line wavered involuntarily before the terrible menace of their hating, hateful faces. the mundurucu especially, although no coward, had been taught from earliest childhood to dread these man-eaters, the mayas. it was professor ditson who noticed that, in spite of their menacing approach, not a single warrior had as yet gripped a weapon. "steady, pinto, steady all," he said calmly, "they're trying to stampede us. if one of you leaves the trail, we're all dead men." he spoke just in time, for already pinto was looking longingly toward the refuge of the forest, forgetting that the woodcraft of those hunters of men was superior even to his own. perhaps even professor ditson's voice would not have stopped him if it had not been for a sudden happening. as the leader of the mayas half-circled around joe, the latter turned to face him, still holding out his arms. the motion flung open his flannel shirt, unbuttoned to the waist, and showed, tattooed red on his brown skin, the curling, twisted totem-mark of intertwined serpents by which joe had claimed the right of his blood in the lodge of the great chief during the quest of the blue pearl. as the maya caught sight of this sign he stopped in his tracks. little by little the menace died out of his fierce eyes, and, as if drawn by a magnet, he crept in closer and closer with outstretched neck, staring at the tattoo marks which wound down and around joe's waist. then, with a sudden gesture, he swept aside the ghastly necklace that he wore. there, outlined against his fleshless chest just over his heart, showed a similar emblem--crimson inter-twining serpents facing in opposite directions, with gaping mouths like those of which the totem-pole was made which towered before the lodge of the great chief in far-away akotan. the maya chief stood motionless for a moment. then he stretched both hands out toward joe, palms up, and stood as if waiting. "put your hands in his, boy," hissed jud, from down the line; "he's waitin' for the brotherhood sign." without a word, joe clasped hands with the maya chief, and for an instant the two looked into each other's eyes, the spectral cannibal and the lithe son of a french trapper and a chippewa princess. then, disengaging his right hand, the maya fumbled at his belt and suddenly stretched out toward joe the supple, beautiful tanned skin of a snake, such as but one of the party had ever seen before. it was long and narrow and of a flashing golden-yellow, thickly flecked with tiny red-brown spots. this he wound around the boy's neck, so that it swung gleaming against his gray flannel shirt. once again with outstretched hands the strange figure stood as if waiting, encircled the while by fierce, impassive faces with tusks gleaming horribly against blood-red jaws, and white painted bodies showing like ghosts against the green of the forest. "give him your tie," dictated jud. "don't you know blood-brothers have to exchange presents?" joe hesitated. he had a weakness, perhaps inherited from both sides of his family, for neckties of the most barbaric colors. the one that he was wearing was one of cornwall's best and brightest, a brilliant green-and-purple creation which had cost him a whole dollar at white wilcox's store. to give it up would leave him tieless in a great wilderness. "hurry!" muttered professor ditson, as the maya chief began to lower his outstretched hands. thus urged, the boy reluctantly pulled a foot of glimmering silk from his neck, and the next instant the most brilliant tie that ever graced mr. wilcox's emporium was gleaming against the gray-white of a necklace of human bones. the maya received the enforced present with a grunt of undisguised pleasure, and, raising both hands above his head with palms outstretched, faced his waiting band and began a crooning song filled with strange minor cadences. one by one his men took up the strain, and, led by him, filed away from the trail like ghosts going back to their graves. as the clicking of their necklaces and the notes of their chant sounded faint and fainter and at last died away in the green tangle of the jungle, a long sigh of relief came unconsciously from every member of the expedition. it was jud who first broke the silence. "i've always heard," he said, "that injuns north, south, east, an' west belonged to the four main totems, the bear, the wolf, the snake, an' the eagle, but i never believed it before to-day. that old tattoo-mark, boy," he went on, turning to joe, "certainly came in right handy." "he gone off with my good tie," returned joe, sorrowfully. "and a good job, too, i call it," remarked will, who had never approved his friend's taste in neckwear. it was the maya's present which most interested pinto and professor ditson. the mundurucu indian sidled up close to joe and stared at the glittering skin with all his eyes, but without attempting to touch it. "it's the sacred snake that in the old days only kings and gods could wear," he murmured. "he's right," said professor ditson, raising the gleaming, golden skin reverently from joe's neck. "it's the skin of the yellow snake which the aztecs used to wind around the forehead of atapetl, their terrible goddess of war. only her priests knew where to find these snakes, and it was death for any one else even to look at the skin except at the annual sacrifices of the goddess. this one," he went on, "will be a safe-conduct for the whole party all the way to peru--and ought to be a lesson to you," he continued severely, turning to jud, "never to speak against snakes again." chapter viii the man-eaters five days later they came to a great lake which seemed to stretch away through the depths of the forest interminably, with the trail following its winding shores. at the first sight of the water shining in the sunlight, pinto showed signs of great uneasiness. "this must be the lake of the man-eaters," he said to professor ditson. "i have heard the wise men of the tribe speak of it many times. all the animals around it are eaters of men. see, perhaps there be some of their tracks now!" and he pointed to where there showed in the soft sand what looked like the paw-prints of a huge cat. "pinto," said the professor, severely, "i'm ashamed of you! the sight of those mayas has made your mind run on man-eaters. don't you know a puma's track when you see them, and don't you know that a puma never attacks a man?" "the perfesser's right for once," chimed in jud. "that's the track of what we call a mountain-lion or panther up north, an' they don't never hurt nobody." pinto was still unconvinced. "perhaps they do here," he insisted. "you come along with me," returned professor ditson. "we'll explore this lake a bit before dark." and, followed by all of the party except will and jud, whose turn it was to make camp, he disappeared around a bend in the shore. the two who were left behind soon found a high, sandy bank where they cleared a space and started a small fire. just in front of them was a tiny bay, connected with the lake by a narrow channel edged by lines of waving ferns, while a little beach of white sand curved away to the water in front of the camp-site. "here is where judson adams, esquire, takes a bath," suddenly announced the old trapper, producing a couple of cakes of tree-soap, which he had picked along the trail, and slipping out of his clothes like an eel. "pinto said never to go into strange water," warned will. "pooh," said jud. "he was talkin' about rivers where them murderin' catfish an' anacondas hide. this pool ain't ten feet across an' there's nothin' in it except a few stray minnies"; and he pointed out to will a little school of short, deep-bodied fish which looked something like the sunfish which the boys used to catch along the edges of cream hill pond. otherwise no living creature showed in the clear water, nor could be concealed along the bright, pebbly bottom. "better not," warned will again. "this ain't your country, jud. pinto seemed to know what he was talking about. let's wait until the professor gets back." "pinto will never win any carnegie medals, an' i guess i can take a bath without gettin' permission from the perfesser," returned jud, obstinately. "however," he went on, "just to show you that the old man never takes any chances, i'll poke a stick around in this pool to drive out the devil-fish that may be hidin' here." nothing happened as the old man prodded the water with a long branch cut from a near-by tree, except that the motion of the stick seemed to attract more and more of the chubby fish which he had first seen from the outer channel into the pool. "gee," remarked jud, "but those fish are tame! i'll bet if i had a hook an' line i could flick out a dozen. better come in with me, bill," he went on. "i promised your family that i'd see that you boys took plenty of baths an' kept your hair brushed all through this trip." "i'll wait till the boss comes back," said will, laughingly. that was enough for jud. "i'm my own boss!" he remarked indignantly, and waded in with a cake of tree-grown soap clenched tightly in one hand. his first step took him well above his knees. there was a swirl and a flash from the center of the pool, and in an instant the whole surface was alive with a furious rush of the short, deep-bodied fish toward jud. as they approached, the old man noticed uneasily their staring, malignant eyes, and that they had projecting, gaping lower jaws, thickly set with razor-edged, triangular teeth. suddenly the whole school were upon him, crowding into the shallow water where he stood and snapping at his bare legs like mad dogs. before he could stir, two of them had bitten pieces of flesh out of the calves of both of his legs. as the blood from their bites touched the surface of the pool, the fish seemed to go entirely mad, snapping their fierce jaws frantically and even springing clear of the water, like trout leaping at a fly. if they had not been so numerous that they jostled each other, or if jud had not been quicker than most men twenty years younger, he would have been terribly mutilated. as it was, when he finally reached the safety of the bank, the water which he had just left boiled and bubbled like a caldron, and two of the fish followed him so closely that they landed, flapping, snapping, and squealing, far up on the white sand. when will approached them, the stranded fish tried to spring at him, clicking their jaws with impotent, savage fury. a moment later, as he tried to hold one of them down with a stick, it drove its keen wedge-shaped teeth clear through the hard wood. when the rest of the party came back, they found jud and will staring as if fascinated at the desperate, raging dwellers of the pool. "i told you strange water not safe," said pinto, as professor ditson skilfully bandaged jud's legs with a dressing of sphagnum moss and the thick red sap of the dragon's-blood tree. "look," and he showed will that a joint of one of his fingers was missing. "cannibal-fish more dangerous than anaconda or piraiba. they kill tiger and eat up alligator if it get wounded. once," he went on, "white man ride a mule across river where these fish live. they bit mule and he threw man off into the river. when i got there an hour later only skeleton left of mule. man's clothes lie at bottom of river, but only bones inside. you wait a little. i pay them well." and he disappeared into the woods. professor ditson corroborated the indian. "they are undoubtedly the fiercest and most dangerous fish that swim," he said. "if the water is disturbed, it arouses them, and the taste or smell of blood seems to drive them mad." by the time jud was patched up, pinto came back trailing behind him a long length of liana, from either end of which oozed a white liquid. this vine he pounded between two stones and threw into the pool. a minute later the water was milky from the flowing juice, and before long was filled with floating, motionless piranhas stupefied by the poisonous sap. pinto fished out several with a long stick, and breaking their necks, wrapped them in balls of blue clay which he found along the shore, and, first making air-holes, set them to bake in the hot coals of the fire. when at last a smell of roast fish went up from the midst of the fire, pinto pulled each ball out and broke the hard surface with light taps of a stick. the skin and scales came off with the clay. opening the fish carefully, he cleaned it, leaving nothing but the savory white baked meat, which tasted and looked almost exactly like black bass. jud avenged himself by eating seven. toward the end of the afternoon, professor amandus ditson left the rest of the party reclining in that state of comfort and satisfaction which comes after a good meal. each day the professor devoted all of his spare time toward realizing the greatest ambition of his life, to wit, the acquirement of one full-grown, able-bodied bushmaster. to-day armed with nothing more dangerous than a long crotched stick, he strolled along the trail, leaving it occasionally to search every mound or hillock which showed above the flat level of the jungle, since in such places this king of the pit-vipers is most apt to be found. two hundred yards away from the camp, the trail took a turn, following the curved shore of the great lake, and in a few minutes the scientist was entirely out of sight or sound of the rest of the party. at last, finding nothing inland he turned his steps toward the lake itself. on some bare spaces showing between the trail and the edge of the water, he saw more of the puma-tracks like those which pinto had pointed out earlier in the day. remembering the indian's fear the scientist smiled as he examined the fresh prints of big pads and long claws. "harmless as tomcats," he muttered to himself. a moment later something happened which upset both the professor and his theories. as he straightened up, a hundred pounds of puma landed upon him. the legend of the lake, as far as pumas were concerned, was evidently correct. harmless to man in other places, here, it seemed, the great cat stalked men as if they were deer. this one intended to sink the curved claws of her forepaws in the professor's shoulders, and, with her teeth at his throat, to rake his body with the terrible downward, slashing strokes of the catamount clan. fortunately for himself, he had half-turned at the sound which her sudden spring made among the bushes. instead of catching his throat, the panther's fanged jaws closed on the upper part of his left arm, while her forepaws gripped his shoulders, which were protected by a khaki coat and flannel shirt. professor ditson promptly caught the animal's throat with his sinewy right hand and held the great beast off at arm's length, thus keeping his body beyond the range of the deadly sickle-like hind claws. for a moment the puma's luminous gooseberry green eyes stared into his, and he could see the soft white of her under parts and the long, tawny tail which is the hall-mark of her family. as he sank his steel-strong fingers deeper into the great brute's throat, professor ditson abandoned all hope of life, for no unarmed man can hope to cope successfully with any of the great carnivora. "a dozen zoölogists have lied in print!" he murmured to himself, indignantly. even as he spoke, he tried to wrench his left arm free. he immediately found, however, that it was impossible to pull it straight out from between the keen teeth. sinking his fingers deeper into the puma's throat, he squeezed it suddenly with all of his strength. involuntarily, as the wind was shut off from her lungs, the gripping jaws relaxed enough to allow the scientist to pull his arm through them for a few inches sidewise. again the puma caught the moving arm, a few inches lower down. again, as the man gripped her throat afresh, she relaxed her hold, and he gained an inch or so before the sharp teeth clamped tight again. inch by inch, the professor worked the full length of his arm through the fierce jaws which, in spite of the khaki sleeve and thick shirt beneath, pierced and crushed terribly the tense muscles of his arm. throughout the struggle the tawny beast kept up a continual grunting, choking snarl, while the man fought in utter silence. at last the whole length of the professor's left arm had been dragged through, until only his hand itself was in the mouth of the puma. shoving it down her hot gullet, he gripped the base of her tongue so chokingly that the struggling panther was unable to close her jaws, and, for the first time during the fight, the professor was free from the pain of her piercing teeth. in a desperate struggle to release the grip which was shutting off her breath, the puma lurched over and fell full length on her back in the loose sand, dragging the man down with her, and the professor found himself with his left hand deep in her gullet, his right hand still clutching the beast's throat desperately, while his knees, with the weight of his body back of them, pressed full against her ribs on each side. as they struck the ground he sank his elbows into the armpits of the puma beneath him, spreading her front legs and pinning them down, so that her frantic claws could reach inward only enough to rip his coat, without wounding the flesh beneath. once on the ground, the panther struggled fiercely, pitching and bucking in an effort to release herself from the man's weight so that she could be in a position to make use of the curved scimitars with which all four of her paws were armed. the loose sand shifted and gave her no purchase. as they fought, professor ditson felt his strength leaving him with the blood that flowed from his gashed and mangled arm. raising himself a little, he surged down with both knees and felt a rib snap under his weight and the struggling body relax a trifle. for the first time he dared hope to do what no man had done since the cavemen contended with their foes among the beast-folk, and to his surprise noted that he was beginning to take a certain grim pleasure in the combat. the fury of the fight had pierced through the veneer of education and culture, and professor amandus ditson, the holder of degrees from half a dozen learned universities, battled for his life that day with a beast of the forest with all the desperation and fierce joy which any of his prehistoric forebears might have felt a hundred thousand years ago. it had become a question as to which would give up first--the man or the beast. fighting off the waves of blackness which seemed to surge up and up until they threatened to close over his head, he fought desperately with clutching hands and driving knees, under which the thin ribs of the puma snapped like dry branches, until at last, with a long, convulsive shudder, the great cat stopped breathing. even as he felt the tense body relax and become motionless under his grip, the blackness closed over his head. there the rest of the party, alarmed by his long absence, found him an hour later. his gaunt body was stretched out on the dead panther and his right hand was sunk in the long fur, while his left hand and arm were buried to the elbow in the fierce gaping mouth and his bowed knees still pinned the great cat down. around the dead beast and the unconscious man sat four black vultures. thrusting forward from time to time their naked, red, hooded heads, they seemed about to begin their feast when the rescuing party arrived. with his face hidden in the panther's tawny fur, professor ditson seemed as dead as the beast that lay beneath him. it was not until hen had pried his fingers away from the puma's throat and carefully drawn his gashed hand from the beast's gullet that his eyes flickered open and his gaunt chest strained with a long, labored breath. "i was wrong," were his first words. "the _felis concolor_ does occasionally attack man. i'll make a note of it," he went on weakly, "in the next edition of my zoölogy." "i was wrong, too," burst out jud, pressing close up to the exhausted scientist and clasping his uninjured hand in both of his. "i thought you were nothin' but a perfesser, but i want to say right here an' now that you're a _man_." the danger, however, was not yet over. the scratches and bites of a panther or a jaguar, like those of a lion or tiger, almost invariably cause death from blood-poisoning if not immediately treated. under professor ditson's half-whispered directions, they stripped off his clothes, washed away the blood and dirt with clear water, and then, using the little surgical kit which he always wore at his belt, injected a solution of iodine into every scratch and tooth-mark. "it is necessary," said the scientist, gritting his teeth as the stinging liquid smarted and burned like fire, "but i do not believe that life itself is worth so much suffering." the rest of the party, however, did not agree with this perhaps hasty opinion, and persisted in their treatment until every puncture was properly sterilized. then, bandaged with great handfuls of cool sphagnum moss and attended by the faithful hen pine, the professor slept the clock around. while he was asleep, will and pinto slipped away together to see if they could not bring back a plump curassow from which to make broth for him when he finally woke up; while jud and joe, with similar good intentions, scoured the jungle for the best-flavored fruits they might find. will and his companion found the birds scarce although they slipped through the jungle like shadows. as they penetrated deeper among the trees they were careful to walk so that their shadows fell directly behind them, which meant that they were walking in a straight line, along which they could return by observing the same precaution. as they reached a tiny grove of wild oranges, will's quick eye caught sight of something which gleamed white against the dark trunks, and the two went over to investigate. there they saw a grisly sight. coiled in a perfect circle were the bones of an anaconda some fifteen feet in length. every vertebra and rib, and even the small bones of the head and the formidable, recurved teeth, were perfect, while in all the great skeleton there was not a fragment of flesh nor a scale of the skin remaining. strangest of all, inclosed by the ribs of the snake was the crushed skeleton of a large monkey, which likewise had been cleaned and polished beyond the skill of any human anatomist or taxidermist. some terrible foe had attacked the great snake while lying helpless and torpid after its heavy meal and had literally devoured it alive. the face of the indian was very grave as he looked at the gleaming bones before him, and he stared carefully through the adjoining thickets before speaking. "puma bad man-eater," he said at last; "cannibal-fish worse; but anicton most dangerous of all. he eat same as fire eats. he kill jaguar, sucurucu, bushmaster, alligator, indian, white man. he afraid of nothing." "what is the anicton?" inquired will, frightened in spite of himself. even as he spoke, from far beyond in the jungle came a strange, rustling whisper which seemed to creep along the ground and pass on and on through the woods like the hiss of spreading flames. "come," said the indian, briefly, "i show you." and he led will farther out into the jungle through which the menacing whisper seemed to hurry to meet them. soon small flocks of plain-colored birds could be seen flying low, with excited twitterings, evidently following the course of some unseen objects on the ground. then there came a rustling through the underbrush, and, in headlong flight, an army of little animals, reptiles, and insects dashed through the jungle. long brown wood-rats scuttled past, tiny jumping-mice leaped through the air, guiding themselves with their long tails, while here and there centipedes, small snakes, and a multitude of other living creatures sped through the brush as if fleeing before a forest fire. suddenly, through a corner of the jungle thrust the van of a vast army of black ants. through the woods they moved in lines and regiments and divisions, while little companies deployed here and there on each side of the main guard. like a stream of dark lava, the army flowed swiftly over the ground. as with human armies, this one was made up of different kinds of soldiers, all of whom had different duties to perform. most numerous of all were the eyeless workers, about half an inch in length, armed with short, but keen, cutting mandibles. these acted as carriers and laborers and reserves, and, although blind, were formidable by reason of their numbers. larger than the workers, measuring a full inch in length, were the soldiers, with enormous square heads and mandibles pointed and curved like pairs of ice-tongs. these soldiers would drive in each mandible alternately until they met in the body of their victim, and when they met they held. even if the body of the ants was torn away, the curved clinging jaws still clinched and bit. with the soldiers came companies of butchers, whose jaws had serrated teeth which sheared and cut through flesh and muscle like steel saws. besides these, there were laborers and reserve soldiers by the million. pinto told will that a large ant-army would take twenty-four hours to pass a given point even when traveling at full speed. as they watched this army, will saw an exhibition of what it could do. a large agouti in fleeing before them had in some way caught its leg in a tangle of vines and, squealing in terror, tried in vain to escape. before it could release itself, the rush of the army was upon it, and it disappeared under a black wave of biting, stinging ants, which methodically cut up and carried off every fragment of the animal's flesh, and passed on, leaving behind only a picked skeleton. as will watched this hurrying, resistless multitude, although well beyond the path of its advance, he felt a kind of terror, and was relieved when the mundurucu started back for camp. "nothing that lives," said pinto, as they turned toward the trail, "can stand against the black army." the next day jud and joe joined in the hunt, leaving hen to nurse the professor. following a deer trail back from the shore, they came to a patch of swampy woods a mile from the lake. there will discovered a mound some five feet high made of rushes, rotting moss, leaves, and mold. "is that a nest of ants?" he called to the indian, pointing out to him the symmetrical hillock. pinto's face lighted up. "no," he said, "that a nest of eggs. we dig it out, have good supper to-night." "it must be some bird," exclaimed jud, hurrying up, "to make a nest like that. probably one of them south american ostriches--hey, pinto?" "you'll see," was all that the indian would say as he began to dig into the soft, spongy mass. the rest of the party followed his example. by the time they had reached the center of the mound, digging with sticks and bare hands, the matted, rotting vegetation felt warm to the touch, and this heat increased as they approached the base of the nest. down at the very bottom of the mound, arranged in a circle on a bed of moss, they found no fewer than twenty-four white eggs as large as those of a duck, but round and covered with a tough, parchment-like shell. pinto hurriedly pouched them all in a netted game-bag which he had made for himself out of palm-fiber. "want to see bird that laid those eggs?" he asked jud. "i sure would," returned the old trapper. "any fowl that builds a five-foot incubator like that must be worth seein'." "rub two eggs together and she come," directed pinto, holding out his bag to jud. following the indian's suggestion, jud unsuspectingly rubbed two of the eggs against each other. they made a curious, penetrating, grating noise, like the squeal of chalk on a blackboard. hardly had the sound died away, when from out of a near-by wet thicket there came a roaring bellow that shook the very ground they stood on, and suddenly the air was filled with the sweet sickly scent of musk. jud turned as if stung by a fire-ant, to see a pair of green eyes glaring at him above the jaws of a great alligator which had been lurking in the darkness of the jungle. as it lay there like an enormous lizard, the dark gray of its armored hide hardly showed against the shadows. on each side of the fore part of the upper jaw, two cone-shaped tusks showed white as polished ivory, fitting into sockets in the lower jaw. even as jud looked, the upper jaw of the vast saurian was raised straight up, showing the blood-red lining of the mouth gaping open fully three feet. then, with a roar like distant thunder, the great reptile raised its body, as big as that of a horse, upon its short, squat legs, and rushed through the brush at jud with a squattering gait, which, however, carried it over the ground at a tremendous rate of speed for a creature eighteen feet long. it was jud's first experience with an alligator, and with a yell he ran down the slope like a race-horse. unfortunately for him, on a straight line downhill an alligator can run faster than a man, and this one began to overtake him rapidly. as he glanced back, the grinning jaws seemed right at his shoulder. "dodge him! dodge him!" yelled pinto. at first, jud paid no attention, but ran straight as a deer will sometimes run between the rails to its death before a locomotive when one bound to the side would save it. at last, as will and joe also began to shout the same words over and over again, the idea penetrated jud's bewildered brain and he sprang to one side and doubled on his trail. his pursuer, however, specialized in doubling itself. unable to turn rapidly on account of its great length, and seeing its prey escaping, the alligator curved its body and the long serrated tail swung over the ground like a scythe. the extreme end of it caught jud just above the ankles and swept him off his feet, standing him on his head in a thorn-bush from which he was rescued by pinto and will, who had followed close behind. the alligator made no further attempt at pursuit, but quickly disappeared in the depths of a marshy thicket. "whew!" said jud, exhausted, sitting down on a fallen log and mopping his steaming face. "that was certainly a funny joke, mr. pinto. about one more of those an' you won't go any further on this trip. you'll stay right here--underground." the mundurucu was very apologetic, explaining that he had not intended to do anything worse than startle the old man, while will and joe interceded for him. "he only wanted to see you run," said the latter, slyly. "nobody can run like jud when he's scared." "no, boy," objected the old trapper, "i wasn't exactly scared. startled is the right word. it would startle anybody to have a monstrophalus alligator rush out of nowhere an' try to swallow him." "certainly it would," agreed will, gravely. "anybody could see that you weren't scared, you looked so noble when you ran." peace thus being restored, the whole party returned to camp, where that night professor ditson, who was feeling better, gave a long discourse on the difference between crocodiles, alligators, and caymans. "if that had been a crocodile," he explained "you wouldn't be here now. there's one species found in south america, and it's far faster than any alligator. look out for it." "i most certainly will," murmured jud. that night at supper, pinto proceeded to roast in the hot coals the whole clutch of alligator eggs except the two which jud had dropped in his excitement. for the first time in a long life, the old trapper refused the food set before him. "i've et monkeys an' dragons an' cannibal-fish without a murmur," he said, "but i draw the line at alligator's eggs. they may taste all right, but when i think of their dear old mother an' how she took to me, i'm just sentimental enough to pass 'em up." chapter ix the pit for several days the treasure-hunters made their camp near the shores of the great lake, waiting for the slow healing of professor ditson's wounds. here and there, through open spaces in the forest, they could see the summits of mountain-ranges towering away in the distance, and realized that the long journey through the jungle was nearly over. beyond the lake the trail stretched away along the slopes of the foot-hills, with plateaus and high pampas on one side and the steaming depths of the jungle on the other. one morning professor ditson felt so much better that hen pine, who had been acting as his special nurse, decided to start on an expedition after fresh vegetables. shouldering his ax and beckoning to joe, for whom the giant black had a great liking, the two struck off from the trail beyond the lake into the heart of the jungle. before long they saw in the distance the beautiful plume-like foliage of a cabbage-palm outlined against the sky. a full seventy feet from the ground, the umbrella-like mass of leaves hung from the slim, steel-like column of the tapering trunk, buttressed by clumps of straight, tough roots, which formed a solid support to the stem of the tree extending up ten feet from the ground. it took a solid hour of chopping before the palm fell. when at last it struck the earth, hen cut out from the heart of the tree's crown a back-load of tender green leaves folded in buds, which made a delicious salad when eaten raw and tasted like asparagus when boiled. as they turned back, joe saw something move in a near-by tree. looking more closely, he noticed a crevice in the trunk, across which was stretched a dense white web. behind this crouched a huge spider. covered with coarse gray and reddish hairs, its ten legs had an expanse of fully seven inches. the lower part of the web was broken, and in it were entangled two small birds about the size of a field-sparrow. one of them was dead, but the other still moved feebly under the body of the monster. picking up a long stick, joe started to rescue the fluttering little captive. "look out!" shouted hen, who was some distance away. "that's a crab-spider and mighty dangerous." paying no attention to the other's warning, joe with one sweep of his stick smashed the web and, just missing the spider, freed the dying bird, so that it fell to the ground. as he whirled his stick back for another blow, the terrible arachnid sprang like a tiger through the air, landing on the upper part of joe's bare left arm, and, with its red eyes gleaming, was about to sink its curved envenomed mandibles deep in the boy's flesh. only the instinctive quickness of joe's muscles, tensed and trained by many a danger, saved him. with a snap of his stick he dashed the spider into the underbrush. "did he get you?" shouted hen, anxiously. "i think not," said joe. "you'd most certainly know it if he did," returned the great negro, examining the boy's arm closely. although it was covered with loose reddish hairs from the monster, there was no sign of any wound. "that was a close call, boy," said hen, carefully blowing the hairs off joe's skin. "you am goin' to be mighty discomfortable from dese ere hairs; but if he'd done bit you, you might have died." hen was a true prophet. some of the short, hard hairs became fixed in the fine creases of joe's skin and caused an almost maddening itching which lasted for several days. the next day, for the first time since his meeting with the puma, professor amandus ditson tried walking again. his left arm was still badly swollen and inflamed and his stiffened and bruised muscles gave him intense pain when he moved, but, in spite of hen's protests, he insisted upon limping a mile or so down the trail and back. "if a man gives in to his body," he remarked impatiently, when hen remonstrated with him, "he will never get anything done." the second day he walked still farther, and the third day, accompanied by the faithful hen, who followed him like a shadow, he covered several miles, exploring a path that ran through the jungle parallel with the trail. "some one's been along here lately, boss," said hen, pointing out freshly broken twigs and marks in the earth. "probably the same hunting-party that we met before," returned the professor, indifferently. "they won't--" he broke off his sentence at the sound of a little sick, wailing cry, which seemed to come from the thick jungle close at hand. "what's that?" said hen, sharply, raising his heavy machete. without answering, the scientist turned off the trail and, raising the bushes, exposed the emaciated body of a little indian girl about four years old. a tiny slit in the side of each nostril showed her to be a member of the araras, a friendly tribe of forest indians akin to the mundurucus, to whom pinto belonged. as she looked up at professor ditson, her sunken face broke into a smile. "white man!" she whispered, in the arara dialect which both professor ditson and pinto understood. then, pointing to herself with fingers so wasted that they looked like birds' claws, she whispered her own name, "ala," the indian name for those gentle, beautiful little birds which europeans have christened "wood-stars." the stern face of the scientist softened to an expression that even hen had never seen there before. in spite of his injured arm, it was professor ditson who lifted up the little girl and carried her back to the camp. there the rest of the party found them when they returned with one of the plump curassows which pinto generally managed to bring back from every hunt. from this, hen pine hurriedly made hot, nourishing broth, with which the professor slowly fed the starved child until she dropped off to sleep, holding tightly to one of his long gaunt fingers. several hours later the little girl woke up, seeming at first much stronger, and at once began to talk in a little voice faint as the chirp of a distant cricket. from her half-whispered sentences the professor learned that her father and mother had both been killed in a foray of the muras. not many months after their death, ala herself had fallen sick of one of the forest fevers so fatal to indian children, and had been abandoned by the tribe. in spite of her starved condition, ala was an attractive child. instead of the usual shallow, shiny black eyes of indian children, hers were big and brown and fringed with long lashes, and when she smiled it was as if an inner light shone through her wan, pinched little face. at once she became the pet of the whole party, and although she, in turn, liked them all, it was professor ditson who always held first place in her heart. if he were long away from her, she would call plaintively, "_cariwa! cariwa!_" the arara word for white man. sometimes she would sing, in her tiny voice, folk-songs which she had learned from her mother, all about the wonderful deeds and doings of armadillos, agoutis, and other south american animals. before long, however, in spite of careful nursing, she began to sink rapidly. then came days when she sang no more, but lay too weak even to taste the fruits which the boys were always bringing in to her from the forest. at last one night professor ditson, who always slept close beside her, heard a little far-away voice whisper in his ear, "white man, dear, dear white man!" and felt the touch of her hand against his cheek. a moment later, under the light of the setting moon, he saw that ala had gone where there is no more sickness nor pain and where little children are safe forever. later on, when the rest of the party roused themselves before sunrise for another day, they found the scientist sitting grim and impassive in the star-shine, still holding the tiny cold hand of the little indian girl in his. when old jud found that clenched tightly in ala's other hand was the shell of a tree-snail, all white and pink and gold, which he had given her days before, the old man broke down and sobbed as he looked at the peaceful little figure. under the light of achenar, canopus, and the other eternal stars which flared through the blackness of the tropical night, they buried her deep at the foot of a vast paradise tree which had towered above the forest hundreds of years before the first white man ever came to south america and whose mighty girth will be standing when the last indian of that continent has passed to his forgotten fathers. as professor ditson repeated over the little grave what part he could remember of the service for the dead, from the heart of the jungle sounded the deep, coughing roar of a jaguar as it wandered restless through the night. the next day camp was broken and once more the party followed the trail through the forest. at first the gloom and grief of the little indian girl's death hung over them all. then, little by little, the healing of the forest began to be felt. the vast waiting trees, the bird-songs, the still beauty of the flowers all seemed to bring to them the joy and hope and faith which is the portion of wanderers among the solitudes and silences of earth. the trail still ran, a dividing line between the steaming jungle on one side and the plateaus and foot-hills on the other. behind the latter towered range after range of mighty mountains, among whose chill heights were hidden forgotten inca cities and the lost treasure-lake of eldorado. on the mountain side of the trail the trees were set farther apart and belonged to families from the temperate zone, while here and there were small parks covered with short grass, with bare, treeless slopes beyond. it was in such a country, after several days to travel, that pinto, jud, and the two boys started on a hunt, while the others made camp. they had been out less than an hour when the sharp eyes of the old trapper spied two strange animals feeding in an open space hedged in by thickets. they had long, banded tails, which clanked and rattled as they moved. moreover, they wore armored hides, set with square plates of bone and ringed around the middle with nine horny bands, while big pricked-up ears, like those of the rabbit, and long sheep eyes made them appear to the old trapper as among the strangest animals he had ever met. "armadillos," whispered pinto, delightedly, as he too caught sight of them. "spread out and we'll catch 'em both. better 'n roast pig to eat." in a minute the four hunters had made a wide circle around the unwary animals. it was not until they were close to them that the pair took alarm. stopping their feeding, they suddenly squatted with their fore legs off the ground, much as a woodchuck might do. instead of curling up like porcupines and trusting to their armor for protection, as jud had expected them to do, they suddenly dropped on all fours and rushed and rattled down the slope toward the old trapper, like two small armored tanks, almost as fast as a rabbit would run. jud was as much surprised as if he had seen a tortoise start to sprint. going like race-horses, they bore down upon the old man. "hi! hi! stop! shoo!" bellowed jud, waving both his arms over his head. "what'll i do to stop 'em?" "trip 'em up," volunteered will, from where he stood. "catch 'em by the tail!" yelled joe. "don't let 'em scare you." in another minute they were upon him. dodging his outstreched hands, their wedge-shaped heads plunged between his legs. jud's feet flew up, and he sat down with a startling bump, while, rushing and clanking through the bushes, both of the armadillos disappeared in the depths of the thicket. the old man rose slowly and felt himself all over. "i'd just as soon try to stop a racing automobile with my two hands as to head off a scared armadillo," he observed indignantly. "they got no right to run that way. their business is to curl up an' be caught." "never mind, jud," said will, comfortingly; "you had the right idea, but you tackled 'em a mite too high." that day, as they rested after lunch, will wandered up toward the mountains, as usual studying his beloved birds. along the pampas-like stretches of the plateaus and up among the hills, he found the bird life very different from what it was in the jungle. it was pinto who taught him the bassoon notes of the crested screamer, changing at times to the long roll of a drum, and pointed out to him "john o' the mud-puddles," the south american oven-bird, which, unlike the northern bird of the same name, builds a mud nest a foot or more in diameter, strengthened with hair and weighing several pounds. the birds mate for life, and have a quaint habit of singing duets while standing facing each other. then there was another bird which pinto called the "fire-wood gatherer," which built great nests of sticks in trees, dropping a wheelbarrow load of twigs under each nest. of all the new birds, the boy liked the one called the "little cock" the best. these were ground-birds some nine inches long, with little tails that stuck straight upward, and bristling crests on their heads. looking like small bantam roosters, they scurried around through the brush, following the travelers inquisitively and giving every now and then a loud, deep chirp. whenever will would chase one, it would scurry off, chirping with alarm, but always returned and followed him through the grass and brush. as the days went by, professor ditson became more and more uneasy, and, when camp was pitched, overtaxed his unrestored strength by hunting through dark nooks in the jungle and peering and prying among tangles of fallen trees or the rare ledges of rock which showed now and then among the waves of green. at last he told the rest of the party the cause of his anxiety. "in a few days more," he said, "we shall begin to climb the foot-hills of peru. under my contract with mr. donegan, we were to collect a bushmaster before we began the search for emeralds. so i would suggest that we make our camp here and scatter out through the jungle until one of us is fortunate enough to discover a specimen of this rare and beautiful serpent. let me beg of you, however," he continued earnestly, "to use the utmost care in catching a bushmaster. they are easily injured." jud's face was a study. "i will," he promised. "i'll bet there isn't any one on the continent of south america who will use more care than me." the next day the first hunt began. armed with long, forked sticks, the six adventurers poked their way painstakingly through the thickest parts of the jungle, but without any success so far as bushmasters were concerned, although pinto aroused a fine specimen of a boa-constrictor, one of the smaller boas of south america, which flowed through the forest like a dark shimmering stream, while jud scared up another hideous iguana, it being a disputed question as to which ran away the faster. toward the end of the afternoon will found himself some distance from the others, following what seemed a little game trail, which zigzagged back and forth through the jungle. at one point it led between two great trees, and there will caught sight of a blaze on either side of the path. as he stepped forward to examine the marks more carefully, a dreadful thing happened. the ground under his feet suddenly sank away without a sound, and the next moment he found himself at the bottom of a jug-shaped pit some fifteen feet deep, whose sides curved in so sharply that not even a monkey, much less a man, could climb out. the opening had been covered over with the stretched skins of animals, stitched together and cunningly hidden under turf and leaves. although shaken and half-stunned by his sudden fall, the soft earth floor of the trap saved him from any serious injury. far above he could see the light streaming in through the irregular hole which his weight had made in the covering which masked the pit. all too late will realized that the blazes on the sides of the game path had been warnings for human beings to avoid the pitfall which they marked. the neck of the great earthen bottle was some five feet in width, but at the base it widened into a space fully double that distance across. as the boy's eyes became accustomed to the half-light below, he found that he could see the sides and the bottom of the pit more and more clearly, and, scrambling to his feet, he started to explore its full circumference. at the first step came a sound which no man born of woman has to hear more than once in order to stand stone-still--a fierce, thick hiss. stopping dead in his tracks, will moved slowly back until he was pressing hard against the earthen wall behind him. even as he stopped, from the half-darkness before him, with a dry clashing of scales, glided into the center of the pit, with sure, deadly swiftness, the pinkish-yellow and black-banded coils of a twelve-foot serpent. from its eyes, with their strange oval pupils, a dark streak stretched to the angles of the mouth from which a long, forked tongue played like a black flame. as the fierce head crested the triple row of many-colored coils, will saw the curious hole between eye and nostril, the hall-mark of a deadly clan, and knew that before him was the king of all the pit-vipers--the dreaded bushmaster. he stared into the lidless, fatal eyes of the snake, as they shone evilly through the dusk until it seemed as if his heart would stop beating and icy drops stood on his forehead, for he knew from talks had with professor ditson that bushmasters possess a most uncertain temper, and he feared that this one might instantly attack him. once he tried to move to a point farther along the circumference of the earthen circle. at the first stir of his cramped muscles, the great snake hissed again and quivered as if about to strike. will settled despairingly back, resolved to move no more; yet ever his thoughts kept running forward to the long, dark hours which were to come, when he would be alone through the night with this terrible companion. then if, overcome by sleep or cramp, he should move, he feared horribly to be stricken down in the dark by the coiled death that watched him. suddenly, as he set himself against making the least stir of a muscle, he heard from the jungle through the broken covering of the trap, the same far-reaching whisper of death which had sounded when he was hunting with pinto. a moment later, with staring eyes, he saw a black stream move sibilantly down the opposite wall of the pit, and realized that the blind black ants of the jungle were upon him--and that there was no escape. slowly the head of the moving column approached the bottom of the pit, and will remembered in sick horror how the ants had torn away shred after shred of living flesh from the tortured body of the agouti. as the insatiable, inexorable mass rolled toward him, the bushmaster seemed either to hear or scent its approach. instantly its tense coils relaxed, and it hurried around and around three sides of the pit, lashing upward against the perpendicular walls in a vain attempt to escape. in its paroxysm of terror, it came so close to the motionless boy that its rough, sharp scales rippled against his legs. only when the van of the ant-army actually reached the floor of the pit and began to encircle its whole circumference did the great serpent seem to remember will's presence. then, as if entreating the help of a human being, it forced itself back of him, and, as the ants came nearer, even wound its way around will's waist in an attempt to escape. for a moment the fearful head towered level with the boy's face. instinctively, will's hand flashed out and caught the bushmaster by the neck. it made no attempt to strike, nor even struggled under the boy's choking grip; only the coiled body vibrated as if trembling at the approach of the deadly horde. for a moment the advance of the ant-army seemed to stop, but it was only because, in accordance with its tactics, the head of the column began to spread out until the base of the pit was a solid mass of moving ants and the black tide lapped at will's very feet. half-turning, and placing his ankles instead of his heels against the sides of the wall, the boy gained a few inches on the rising pool of death that stretched out before him, while the straining body of the bushmaster vibrated like a tuning-fork. by this time, the opposite wall of the pit was covered and the whole circle of the base of the cone-shaped pit black and moving, except the little arc where will stood. the ants were so close that he could see the monster heads of the leaders, and the pit was full of the whisper of their moving bodies flowing forward. will shut his eyes and every muscle of his tense body quivered as if already feeling their ripping, shearing mandibles in his flesh. just as the front line of the fatal legion touched his shoes, something struck him on the head, and he opened his eyes to see a liana dangling in front of him, while the light at the entrance of the pit was blurred by old jud's head and shoulders. with his free hand, will reached forward and seized the long vine, to find it ending in a bowline-knot whose noose never gives. "slip it under your arms," called down the old trapper, hoarsely, "an' hang on! we'll pull you up." it was the work of only a second to carry out the old man's instructions. thrusting the loop over his head and under his arms, the boy gripped the tough vine with his left hand and tightened his clutch around the unresisting body of the great bushmaster. "i won't leave you behind for those black devils," he murmured, as if the snake understood, and tugged at the liana rope as a signal that he was ready to start. in an instant he was hauled aloft, just as the ants swarmed over the space where he had stood. fending himself off from the slanting walls with his feet, will went up with a rush and through the opening at the top almost as fast as he had entered it. close to the rope stood old jud, with face chalky-white as he watched the army of ants pouring down into the pit, while hen, joe, and pinto, and even professor ditson, hauled with all their might on the vine. jud had become uneasy at will's long absence and had tracked him to the entrance of the trap just as the army-ants reached it. his shouts had brought the rest, and it was hen pine who, with his machete, had cut the supple liana and knotted the noose which had reached will just in time. directed by jud, his rescuers hauled on the vine so vigorously that the boy shot out of the pit and was dragged several yards along the ground before they knew that he was safe. jud hurried to help him up, but promptly did a most creditable performance in the standing-back broad-jump. "bring your machete here, quick!" he shouted to hen; "a bushmaster's got the kid!" "no," corrected will, scrambling to his feet with some difficulty and waving off hen with his unoccupied hand, "the kid's got a bushmaster." professor amandus ditson was delighted to his heart's core. "that is the finest specimen of the _lachesis mutus_," he remarked, as he unwound the rough coils from will's waist, "that has ever been reported. whatever happens now," he went on, relieving will of his burden, "the trip is an unqualified success." "the man's easily satisfied," murmured jud, watching from a safe distance the professor grip the snake by the back of its neck and push it foot by foot into a long snake-bag which he always carried for possible specimens. when at last the bag, filled with snake, was tied tightly, it looked much like a long, knobby christmas-stocking. the professor swung it carelessly over his shoulder like a blanket-roll. "no snake ever bites through cloth," he remarked reassuringly. "now for the inca emerald!" chapter x sky bridge at the end of their next day's journey the trail began to swing away from the jungle, and thereafter led ever upward, skirting the foot-hills of the mountain-ranges beyond which lay the lost cities of the incas. three days after will's escape from the pit he found himself once more in terrible danger. during the siesta period at noon he had walked away from the rest of the party to see what new birds he might find. not far from the camping-spot he came to a place where a colony of crested black-and-gold orioles had built long, hanging nests of moss and fiber among the branches of a low tree. curious to see whether their eggs looked like the scrawled and spotted ones of the northern orioles, will started to climb the tree. before he was half-way to the nests, a cloud of clamoring birds were flying around his head, and as he looked up he noticed for the first time, directly above him, a great gray wasps' nest. even as he looked, one of the circling birds brushed against it, and a cloud of enormous red wasps poured out. they paid no attention whatever to the birds, but flew down toward will, who was already scrambling out of the tree at full speed. even as he reached the ground, two of the wasps settled on his bare arm, and instantly he felt as if he had been stabbed by red-hot daggers. never in his life had the boy known such agony. trembling with pain, he brushed the fierce insects off and rushed at top speed toward the camp. in spite of the heat, a racking chill seized him as he ran. his teeth chattered together and waves of nausea seemed to run over his whole body, dimming his eyes and making his head swim he just managed to reach the rest of the party when he staggered and fell. "i've been stung by some big red hornets," he murmured, and dropped back unconscious. "it's the maribundi wasp," said professor ditson, looking very grave as he helped hen undress the boy and sponge his tortured body with cold water. "three of their stings have been known to kill a man." by evening will was delirious. all night long hen and the scientist worked over him, and by the next day he was out of danger, although still in great pain and very weak. it was several days before he could walk, and then only with the greatest difficulty. at first every step was an agony; but professor ditson assured him that regular exercise was the best way to free his system from the effect of the maribundi venom. once again death which had dogged the adventurers' trail for so long peered out at them. they had finished the first stage of their day's walk, and will was lying white and sick under a tree, trying to gain strength enough to go on. ahead of them stretched a wide river, with a ford showing, down to which the trail led. suddenly from the depths of the near-by jungle came a horrid scream, followed by a chorus of baying notes something between the barking of a dog and the howl of a wolf. as the travelers sprang to their feet, a shower of blood-red arrows, with saw-edged points and barbs fashioned from flinty strips of palm-wood, dropped all around them. again the wailing, terrible cry broke the silence. "it's the jaguar-scream--the war-cry of the miranhas," said professor ditson quietly. "they are on our trail with one of their packs of wild dogs." even as he spoke, from the forest far below them a band of indians broke into the open. ahead of them raced a pack of tawny brown dogs nearly as large as the timber-wolves of the north. hen unsheathed his great machete, while jud fumbled with the holster of his automatic. "no! no!" said professor ditson sharply. "we can stand them off better across the river. hurry!" without a word, hen picked up will's limp body and raced ahead of the others around a bend in the trail which hid them all for a moment from the sight of their pursuers. at the river the scientist suddenly halted, after a long look at the rapids which ran deep and swift on each side of the ford. "don't splash as you go through," he said quietly. "i'll come last." one by one, the little party, headed by hen with will in his arms, waded carefully through the shallow water. as they went jud thought that he caught glimpses in the river of the squat, fierce forms of the dreaded piranhas, but if they were there they paid no attention to the men, who crossed with the utmost care. just as professor ditson, the last of the party to leave the bank, stepped into the stream, there sounded with startling distinctness the same wild chorus which had come from the jungle. once or twice in a life-time a hunter in south american forests hears the fearsome screech which a jaguar gives when it is fighting for its life or its mate. it was this never-to-be-forgotten sound which the miranhas had adopted for their war-cry. down the slope not three hundred yards away came the hunting pack. right behind them, running nearly as fast as they, raced a band of some fifty miranhas warriors. as the fugitives looked back it was not the nearness of the wild-beast pack nor the fierce band of indian warriors rushing down upon them which struck the color from the faces of will and joe. it was the towering figure of a man with a black bar of joined eyebrows across his forehead and a scar on his cheek which twisted his face into a fixed, malignant grin. "scar dawson!" muttered will. "scar dawson!" echoed joe, despairingly. as they spoke the outlaw seemed to recognize them too, for he waved aloft a miranha bow which he carried, and shouted hoarsely. by the time they reached the other bank, will lay half-fainting in hen's arms. "fellows," he whispered, "i'm all in. hide me in the bushes here, and you go on. there's no sense in all of you sacrificing yourselves for me." "we stay," murmured joe, while hen nodded his head and pinto fitted one of his fatal little arrows into his blow-gun. "sure, we'll stay," chimed in jud, unslinging his automatic, "an' there's seven injuns who'll stay too unless i've forgotten how to shoot. but what in the world's the perfesser doin'?" he went on, peering out over the river. unheeding the tumult of howls and screeches behind him, or the rush of the fierce hounds and fiercer men toward him, the eminent scientist was picking his way carefully through the ford. at the middle of the river, where the water ran deepest, he rolled up his left sleeve, and with his hunting-knife unconcernedly made a shallow gash through the skin of his lean, muscular forearm. as the blood followed the blade he let it drip into the running water, moving forward at the same time with long, swift strides. almost in a moment the river below the ford began to bubble and boil with the same rush of the fatal hordes which had so horrified jud and will at the lake of the man-eaters. as professor ditson sprang from the water to the edge of the farther bank, the water clear across the river seemed alive with piranhas. unmoved, he turned to the rest of the party. "that ford is locked," he said precisely. "for three hours it can not be crossed by man or beast." even as he spoke, the wild-dog pack splashed into the river. as they reached the deeper water and began to swim, the flash of hundreds of yellow-and-white fish showed ahead of them. in an instant the water bubbled like a caldron gleaming with myriads of razor-edged teeth. there was a chorus of dreadful howls as, one by one, the fierce dogs of the jungle sank below the surface, stripped skeletons almost before their bodies reached the bottom of the river. from the farther bank came a chorus of wailing cries as the war-party watched the fate of their man-hunting pack. then, as if at some signal, the whole band threw themselves on their backs on the ground. only the towering figure of the giant outlaw remained erect. "what's happened to those chaps?" queried jud, much perplexed. "i've been with injuns nigh on to forty year, but i never see a war-party act that way." as he spoke, professor ditson reached the summit of the slope where the rest of the party were standing, and saw the prostrate band on the other side of the river. "hurry out of here!" he said sharply, racing around a bend in the trail, followed by the others. their retreat was none too soon. even as they started, each of the men of their far-away pursuers braced both his feet expertly against the inside horn of his bow, and fitting a five-foot arrow on the string, pulled with all the leverage of arms and legs combined, until each arrow was drawn nearly to its barbed point. there was a deep, vibrating twang that could be heard clearly across the river, and into the sky shot a flight of roving shafts. up and up they went until they disappeared from sight, only to come whizzing down again from a seemingly empty sky, with such force and accuracy that they buried themselves deep into the ground just where the fugitives had been a minute before. jud, who had lingered behind the others, had a narrow escape from being struck by one of the long shafts. "we'd have all looked like porcupines if we'd stayed there thirty seconds longer," he remarked to joe, as he joined the rest of the party. "them miranhas are sure the dandy shots with a bow." "huh!" returned joe jealously, "that nothing. my uncle out in akotan, where i come from, he kill a man with an arrow half a mile away, and no use his feet either." "that uncle of yours was some performer with a bow," returned jud cautiously. "half a mile is good shootin' even with a rifle." "some performer is right," chimed in will weakly. "i learned long ago, when joe and i were up by wizard pond, that that uncle of his held a world record in everything." "set me down, hen," he went on. "i think i can do a mile or so on my own legs." "from here on pinto and i have been over this route," announced professor ditson. "ten miles farther on is 'sky bridge.' if we can cross that and cut it behind us, we're safe." two by two, the members of the party took turns in helping will along the trail, which soon widened into a stone-paved road. "this is one of the inca highways," explained the scientist. "it leads from their first city clear to the edge of the jungle. once," he went on, "the incas ruled an empire of over a million square miles, equal to the whole united states east of the mississippi river; but they never were able to conquer the jungle." the road sloped up more and more steeply, and the going became increasingly difficult, but professor ditson hurried them on remorselessly. "the miranhas never give up a chase," he said, "and if they have succeeded in crossing the river above or below the ford, they may even now be hard on our heels." before long they were in a wilderness of bare, stern peaks whose snow-covered summits towered high against the horizon. at times the road zigzagged along narrow shelves cut in the faces of precipices and guarded here and there by low retaining-walls built of cut stones laid without mortar, but so perfectly that the blade of a knife could not be thrust between them. the air became colder, and the scientist told them that often the temperature in these mountain-valleys would vary as much as one hundred degrees within twenty-four hours. as they approached the crest of a great ridge which towered above them, jud began to find great difficulty in breathing and complained of nausea and a feeling of suffocation. "it's the _soroche_, the mountain-sickness," explained professor ditson. "it will pass soon." "i'm the one that's goin' to pass--pass out," panted jud. soon he became so exhausted that, like will, he had to be half-carried along the trail. "you an' me are a fine pair to fight injuns," he whispered to the boy, who smiled wanly in reply. beyond the ridge the road ran downward toward a vast gorge. from its dark depths rose and fell at intervals the hoarse, roaring bellow of a river rushing among the rocks a thousand feet below. "it is apurinac, the great speaker," said pinto. as the trail led downward again, jud began to feel better, and before long he was able to walk without any help. at length, far below them, looking like a white thread against the threatening blackness of the cañon, they saw swinging in the wind a rude suspension bridge of the kind which travelers had used in these mountains ever since the days of the incas. when pinto, who knew the bridge well, learned that professor ditson intended to cross it at once, he was much disturbed. "no one, master," he protested, "ever crosses it except at dawn before the wind comes up; nor should more than one at a time pass over it." "to-day," returned the scientist grimly, "you are going to see six men cross this bridge in the middle of the afternoon, wind or no wind; and what's more, they are all going to cross together." and he waved his hand toward the road along which they had come. against the white side of the mountain which the trail skirted showed a series of moving black dots, while down the wind, faint and far away, came the tiger-scream of the miranhas. they had found a way across the river, and once more were hard on the heels of the treasure-hunters. along the inca road the little party hurried at breakneck speed. at one place it ran between a vertical wall of rock and a dizzy precipice. farther on it led down by rude stairs partly cut in the rock and partly built out of stones. at one point it made a sudden turn with a low parapet built around it in a semicircle to keep descending travelers from slipping off into the depths below from their own momentum. once beyond this last danger-point, the fugitives found themselves before sky bridge itself. so deep was the cañon that from the river a thousand feet below the bridge seemed on a level with the clouds and to deserve well its name. it was made of two thick cables, woven out of braided withes, which stretched nearly a hundred yards from bank to bank of the gorge. between and below these ran several smaller cables, fastened to the upper two, which served as guard-rails. sections of cane and bamboo laid transversely across the three lower cables, and tied on by strips of rawhide, formed the flooring, which swung four or five feet below the upper cables. from far below came the stern roar of the speaker, and at the bottom of the sunless gulf gleamed the white foam of the river as it raged against masses of rent and splintered stone. over the abyss the bridge waved back and forth in the gusts which all day long swept through the gorge. at times, when the frail structure caught the full force of the wind, it swung fully ten feet out beyond its center, hung a second, and then dropped back with a jar that threatened to snap the cables or hurl into the abyss any human being who was crossing the bridge. not for all the treasure of the incas would any one of the party have risked the crossing. the fear of death, however, is a great incentive to brave deeds. "i'll go first," said professor ditson suddenly, "and see if it is possible to get over. unless we cross this bridge within the next fifteen minutes, we're all dead men." [illustration: it showed itself as the great condor of the andes, the second largest bird that flies] without further speaking, the scientist stepped out upon the swaying bridge and gripped the twisted cables firmly fixed in buttresses of stone. at first he shuffled along with short, cautious steps. in front of him the footway of bamboo strips sloped away sharply clear down to the swaying center of the bridge. from far below, up through the mists which half hid the river, soared a bird the size of a pigeon. as it circled up through a thousand feet of space, it seemed to grow and grow until, by the time it reached the level of the bridge, rocking on mighty motionless wings, it showed itself as the great condor of the andes, the second largest bird that flies. from its grim, naked head its cold eyes gazed evilly upon the man clinging to the swaying bridge, and then turned toward the little group huddled against the side of the precipice, as if counting them as additions to its larder of death. as the great vulture swept by, blotting out a stretch of sky as it passed, the wind hissed and sang through the quills of its enormous wings, taut and stiff as steel. rocking, swaying, perfectly balanced in the rush of air that howled down the cañon, the bird circled over the bridge, and then, without a flap of its vast wings, dipped down into the depths below until, dwindling as it went, it disappeared in the spray of the prisoned river. to the travelers, no other sight could so have plumbed the depths that lay beneath the bridge. for a moment the scientist, sick and giddy, clung to the swaying cables which seemed to stretch tenuous as cobwebs across the sheer blackness of the abyss. "come back, master," called pinto. "no man can cross that bridge!" "no man here will live who doesn't cross this bridge," returned the professor, as the wind brought again to their ears the war-cry of the miranhas. bending double and clinging desperately to the ropes woven from tough maguey fiber, he edged his way down the swaying slope, while the others watched him as if fascinated. at times the full force of the wind as it was sucked through the long cañon swung the bridge out so far that he had to lie flat and cling for his very life's sake. when, at last, he reached the lowest part of the curve, instead of climbing up to the safety of the opposite shore, the scientist deliberately turned around and, taking advantage of every lull and pause in the sudden gusts which bore down upon him, began the long steep, slippery climb back to the point from which he had started. "he's riskin' his life twice to show us the way," said old jud, suddenly. "come on! i'm more ashamed to stay than i'm scared to cross." foot by foot, clinging desperately to the sagging, straining cables, professor ditson fought his way back. when at last he regained the safety of the cliff-side, his face was white and drawn, and he was dripping with sweat, while his hands were bleeding from the chafing of the ropes; but there was a compelling gleam in his eyes, and his voice, when he spoke, was as precise and level as ever. "i have proved that it is perfectly possible to go over this bridge in safety, and i believe that the cables are strong enough to hold the weight of us all," he said. "i will go first; hen will go last. don't look down. hang on. watch the man ahead, keep on going, and we'll get over--just in time." he stretched his gaunt arm toward the trail, where now the miranha band was in plain sight not half a mile away! again he turned and started out over the bridge, which swayed and swung above the death that roared far below. without a word, but with teeth clinched grimly, jud tottered after him, his long gray beard blowing in the wind. next came pinto, shaking with fright, but with a habit of obedience to his master stronger than his own conviction that he was going to his doom. joe followed; and between him and hen, who brought up the rear, was will. as the full force of the wind struck the swinging structure, now loaded with their united weight, the taut cables and ropes creaked and groaned ominously, while now and again some weakened fiber would snap with a sudden report like a pistol-shot. down and down the first terrible incline crept the little train of desperate men. there were times when the bridge would swing so far out that only by clinging and clawing desperately at the guard-rope could the travelers keep from being tipped into the depths below. when that happened, each would grip the one next to him and, with linked arms and legs, they would make a human chain which gave and swung and held like the bridge itself. at last they reached the low-swung center of the bridge, and caught the full force of the wind, which howled down the gorge like a wolf. for a long minute they lay flat on their faces as the bridge swung forth and back like a pendulum. as the gust passed, they heard close at hand the tiger-screech of the miranhas rushing at headlong speed down the trail as they saw their prey once again escaping. up the farther slope, crouching low and gripping desperately with twining hands and feet, the fugitives pressed on foot by foot. at the worst places will felt hen's mighty arms holding him tight to the swinging ropes, while from ahead joe risked his life time and again to stretch out a helping hand to his friend. by inches, by feet, by yards, they wormed their way up, until professor ditson was able to get a firm foothold on the side of the cliff, where a narrow path had been cut in the living rock. even as he struggled to his feet, the war-party dashed around the sharp curve that led to the entrance of the bridge. with all their courage and relentless vindictiveness, the miranha band yet hesitated to cross where the white men had gone. as jud and pinto joined professor ditson on the little platform of rock which towered above the cañon, they saw their pursuers actually turn their heads away from the deep that opened at their feet, after one glance along the narrow swaying bridge by which alone it could be crossed. then, with a fierce yell, they dropped their bows and, whipping out long, narrow-bladed knives from their belts, fell like furies upon the tough woven cables anchored among the rocks. it was jud who first realized that they were trying to cut the bridge. "hurry for your life!" he called down to joe, who, holding on to will with one hand, was slowly hauling himself up the last few feet of the steep ascent. even as he spoke, the taut cables began to quiver and sing like violin-strings transmitting with fatal clearness every cut and slash and chop of the destroyers at the other end. will was half-fainting with the strain of the crossing, which his weakened body was not fitted to endure long. jud's shout seemed to pierce the mist of unconsciousness which was slowly closing over his head, and he struggled upward with all his might. in another minute joe was near enough to be reached by the party on the landing, and three pairs of sinewy arms gripped him and pulled him upward, clinging to will as he rose. below him, hen, bracing both feet, heaved the boy upward with the full force of his mighty arms. just as will reached the refuge of the cliff, with an ominous snapping noise the bridge began to sag and drop. hen gave a desperate spring and wound one arm around a little pinnacle of rock which stood as a hawser-post for one of the cables, while pinto and joe gripped his other arm in mid-air, and pulled him to safety just as the far end of the bridge swished through the air under the knife-strokes of the indians! as, doubled by its drop, the full weight of the structure fell upon the strained cables, they snapped like threads and cables, ropes and footway rushed down into the abyss with a hissing roar which died away in the dim depths a thousand feet below. chapter xi the lost city hardly had the rumble of the falling bridge passed when jud slipped his arm about will's shoulders and half-led half-dragged the fainting boy around the corner of a great rock. "those yellin' devils shoot too straight for us to take any chances," he remarked briefly. the same idea had come to the rest of the party, and they followed hard on the old trapper's heels. here professor ditson again took the lead. "it'll take them some time to get across that river, now the bridge is down, if they follow us," he observed with much satisfaction. "we ought to reach machu pichu to-day and yuca valley in two days more. there we'll be safe." "what's machu pichu, chief?" questioned jud, using this title of respect for the first time; for the professor's behavior at the bridge had made an abiding impression on the old man's mind. "it was the first city that the people of the incas built," explained professor ditson. "when the inca clan first led their followers into these mountain valleys, they were attacked by the forest-dwellers and driven back into the mountains. there they built an impregnable city called machu pichu. from there they spread out until they ruled half the continent. only the forests and the wild tribes that infested them they never conquered. at the height of the inca empire," went on the scientist, "machu pichu became a sacred city inhabited mostly by the priests. after the spanish conquest it was lost for centuries to white men until i discovered it a few years ago." "where do we go from yuca?" questioned jud again. "follow the map to eldorado," returned the professor, striding along the path like an ostrich. beyond the rock, and out of sight of the cañon, gaped the mouth of a tunnel fully three hundred yards in length. narrow slits had been chiseled through the face of the precipice for light and air, and although cut out of the living rock with only tools of hardened bronze by the subjects or captives of forgotten incas, it ran as straight and true as the tunnels of to-day drilled by modern machinery under the supervision of skilled engineers. through the slits the adventurers caught glimpses of the towering peak down which they had come, but there was no sign of their pursuers. in a moment they had vanished from the naked rock-face against which they had swarmed. joe stared long through one of the window-slits, while below sounded the hoarse, sullen voice of the hidden river. "i not like their going so soon," he confided at last to jud. "perhaps that dawson have another secret way down the mountain, as he did at wizard pond." "it's not likely," returned professor ditson, who had overheard him. "at any rate, the only thing to do is to press on as fast as possible." "why didn't my snake-skin make us safe from those people?" inquired joe, as they hurried along. "because," explained the scientist, "the miranhas are an outlaw tribe who have no religion and keep no faith. nothing is sacred to them." beyond the tunnel a wide pavemented road led around the rear of the mountain and then up and up and in and out among a wilderness of peaks, plateaus, cliffs, and precipices. in spite of the well-paved path along which in the old days the incas had sent many an expedition down into the amazon valley, the progress of the party was slow. will became rapidly weaker and for long stretches had to be helped, and even carried along the more difficult parts of the path. hour after hour went by. once they stopped to eat and rest, but their tireless leader hurried them on. "we're not safe on this side of machu pichu," he said. will pulled himself to his feet. "i'm the one who's keeping you all back," he said weakly. "from now on i walk on my own legs!" and, in spite of the others' protests, he did so, forcing his numbed nerve-centers to act by sheer strength of will. toward the middle of the afternoon the path turned an elbow of rock, and in front of them towered a chaos of grim and lonely peaks, spiring above cañons and gorges which seemed to stretch down to the very bowels of the earth. in the background were range after range of snow-capped mountains, white as the clouds banked above them, while in front showed a nicked knife-edge of dark rock. the professor's face lightened as he looked. "on that ridge," he said, stretching out his arm, "lies the lost city!" the path led downward until, although it was early afternoon, it became dim twilight in the depths of dark cañons, and then, twisting like a snake, came back to the heights, skirting the edges of appalling precipices in a series of spirals. as the way reached the summit of the ridge it became narrower and narrower, and at intervals above it stood stone watch-towers on whose ramparts were arranged rows of great boulders with which the sentinels of the incas could have swept an invading army down to destruction in a moment. the path ended at last in a flight of steps cut out of the solid rock, with a wall on each side, and so narrow that not more than two could walk up them abreast. it was past sunset when the little party reached the last step and stood on the summit of the windswept ridge. in the east the full moon was rising above the mountains and flooded the heights with light white as melting snow. before them stretched the city of machu pichu, its shadows showing in the moonlight like pools of spilled ink. lost, lonely, deserted by men for half a thousand years, the great city had been the birth-place of the incas, who ruled mightily an empire larger than that which babylon or nineveh or egypt held in their prime. in its day it had been one of the most impregnable cities of the world. flanked by sheer precipices, it was reached only by two narrow paths enfiladed by watch-towers, eyries, and batteries of boulders. to-night the terraces were solitary and the strange houses of stone and vast rock-built temples empty and forsaken. in the moonlight this gray birth-place of an empire lay before the travelers from another age, silent as sleep, and, as they passed through its deserted streets, the professor told them in a half-whisper thousand-year-old legends which he had heard from indian guides. at the far side stood the great watch-tower sacsahuaman, guarding the other path, which spiraled its way up the slope of a sheer precipice half a mile high. "the inca who built that," said the professor, "gave the tower its name. it means 'friend of the falcon,' for the inca boasted that the hawks would feed full on the shattered bodies of any foe who tried to climb its guarded heights." on the summit of a sacred hill he showed them a square post carved out of the top of a huge rock whose upper surface had been smoothed and squared so that the stone pillar made a sun-dial which gave the time to the whole city. near by lay sayacusca, the "tired stone," a vast monolith weighing a thousand tons, which was being dragged to the summit by twenty thousand men when it stuck. as the carriers struggled to move its vast bulk, it suddenly turned over and crushed three hundred of them. convinced that they had offended some of the gods, the stone was left where it fell, and the skeletons of its victims are beneath it to this day. high above the rest of the city was the sacred sun rock. from it the sun itself was believed to rise, nor might it be touched by the foot of bird, beast, or man. at the height of the inca empire it was plated all over with gold, which the peruvians believed fell to the earth as the tears of the sun, and with emeralds and, except during the festival of the sun, covered with a golden-yellow veil. to-day its glory had departed, and the tired travelers saw before them only a frayed and weather-worn mass of red sandstone. seated on its summit, the scientist showed them the street where, during the festival of the sun, the inca would ride along a pavement made of ingots of silver on a horse whose mane was strung with pearls and whose shoes were of gold. beyond the sun rock was the snake temple, which had three windows and whose solid stone walls were pierced with narrow holes through which the sacred snakes entered to be fed by the priests. "we might camp there," suggested professor ditson. "it would make a large, comfortable house." "no, no," objected jud shudderingly. "no snake temple for me." they finally compromised on sacsahuaman, whose thick walls were slit here and there by narrow peep-holes and whose only entrance was by a narrow staircase of rock cut out of the cliff and guarded, like most of the entrance staircases, by rows of heavy boulders arranged along the ledge. inside were long benches of solid stone, and, best of all, at the base of a white rock in the center of the tower trickled an ice-cold spring whose water ran through a little trough in the rock as it had run for a thousand years. professor ditson told them that in the old days it had always been kept guarded and munitioned as a fortress where the incas could make a last stand if by any chance the rest of the city should ever fall into the hands of their enemies. that night they kindled a fire within the tower, and ate their supper high above the sacred city on the battlements where the guards of the incas had feasted a thousand years before columbus discovered the new world. afterward they slept, taking turns in guarding the two entrances to the city from the same watch-towers where other sentries had watched in the days of the beginning of the inca empire. the next morning will could not move. the stress and strain and exertion of the day before had left him too weak to throw off the numbing effect of the virus. professor ditson shook his head as he looked him over carefully. "there is only one thing to do," he said at last. "we must send on ahead and get a horse or a burro for him. he has walked too much as it is. any more such strain might leave him paralyzed for life. hen," he went on, "you know the trail to yuca. take joe and start at once. you ought to run across a band of vaqueros herding cattle long before you get to the valley. bring the whole troop back with you. i'll pay them, well, and they can convoy us in case the miranhas are still after us." a few minutes later hen and joe were on their way. leaning over the parapet of sacsahuaman, the rest of the party watched them wind their way slowly down the precipice until they disappeared along the trail that stretched away through the depths of the cañon. all the rest of that day jud and pinto and the professor took turns in standing guard over the two entrances to the city, and in rubbing will's legs and giving him alternate baths of hot and cold water, the recognized treatment for stings of the maribundi wasp. that night it was jud's turn to guard the staircase up which the party had come. once, just before daybreak, he thought he heard far below him the rattle and clink of rolling stones. he strained his eyes through the dark, but could see nothing, nor did he hear any further sounds. in order, however, to discourage any night prowlers, the old trapper dropped one of the round boulders that had been placed in the watch-tower for just such a purpose, and it went rolling and crashing down the path. daylight showed the trail stretching away below him apparently empty and untrodden since they had used it when entering the city. tired of waiting for professor ditson, jud hurried up the steep slope to the fortress, meeting the scientist on the way to relieve him. the old trapper was just congratulating will on being well enough to stand on his feet when a shout for help brought all three with a rush to the entrance of the tower. up the steep slope they saw professor ditson running like a race-horse, while behind him showed the giant figure of dawson, followed closely by half a hundred miranhas. in another minute professor ditson was among them. "they must have hidden during the night around a bend in the path and rushed up when we changed guards," he panted. "they were swarming into the tower just as i got there." all further talk was stopped by the same dreadful tumult of war-cries that the travelers had learned to know so well. "steady, boys," said jud, instantly taking command, as a veteran of many indian fights. "four against fifty is big odds, but we've got a strong position. will, you sit by the staircase an' if any one starts to come up, roll one of them fifty-pound boulders down on him, with my compliments. i'll stay back here where i can watch the whole wall an' pick off any one that tries to climb up. professor, you an' pinto keep back of me, with your ax an' knife handy in case any of them get past me. now," he went on, as the three took their stations, "how about some breakfast?" after the first fierce chorus of yells there was a sudden silence. led by dawson, the indians were far too crafty to attempt a direct charge up through the narrow gateway. the roofless walls, no longer raftered by heavy timbers, as in the inca's day, were the weak spot in the defense of the besieged. if enough of the miranhas succeeded in scaling them in spite of jud's markmanship, the defenders of the fort could be overpowered by sheer weight of numbers. while the little party of the besieged were eating breakfast at their several stations, they could hear the sound of heavy objects being dragged across the paved street without, and the clink and jar of stone against the wall. always, however, the besiegers kept themselves carefully out of the range of vision from the tower's narrow loop-holes. at noon jud insisted that pinto cook and serve dinner as usual. "eat hearty, boys," the old indian-fighter said. "you may never have another chance. i dope it out they're pilin' rocks against the walls an' when they've got 'em high enough they'll rush us." it was the middle of the afternoon before jud's prophecy was fulfilled. for some time there had been no sign nor sound from the besiegers. then suddenly, from six different and widely separated points in the semicircle of stone, hideous heads suddenly showed over the edge of the wall, and, with the tiger-scream of their tribe, five picked miranha warriors started to scramble over and leap down upon the little party below, while at the end of the curved line showed the scarred, twisted face and implacable eyes of the outlaw from the north. it was then that the wiry little gray-bearded trapper showed the skill and coolness that had made his name famous throughout a score of tribal wars which had flickered and flared through the far northwest during his trapping days. standing lithe and loose, he swung his automatic from his hip in a half-circle and fired three shots so quickly that the echo of one blended with the beginning of the next. hard upon the last report came the pop of pinto's deadly blow-gun. three of the besiegers toppled over dead or wounded, and with a dreadful shout scar dawson clawed frantically at his shoulder where a keen thorn of death from pinto's tube had lodged. the other two indians scrambled down in terror, and there came a chorus of appalling screams, wails, and yells from the other side of the thick wall. [illustration: hideous heads suddenly showed over the edge of the wall] "i could have got 'em all," remarked jud cheerfully, polishing his smoking automatic on his sleeve, "but i've only got four cartridges left an' we're likely to need 'em later. will," he went on, "you just step over to the watch-tower there an' see if there 're any signs of hen an' joe. a few south american cow-boys would come in mighty handy just about now." "if they don't come before night," stated professor ditson calmly, "we're gone. the miranhas are certain to rush us as soon as it gets dark." even as he spoke, there came from outside a wail, swelling to a shriek like the unearthly scream of a wounded horse, yet with a note of triumph and anticipation running through it. pinto started and shivered, while professor ditson's face showed grim and set. "you'll have to get us first," he muttered. "what do they mean by that little song?" inquired jud coolly. "it's the hag-cry that the women raise before they torture the prisoners," returned the other. "they think they're sure of us as soon as the sun goes down." will returned just in time to catch the last words. "there's no one in sight," he said. "couldn't we slip off ourselves down the cliff?" he went on. "not a chance," explained the scientist. "they'd roll boulders down on us." "is there any way of holding them off after dark?" went on will, after a little pause--and had his answer in the pitying silence of the two older men. for a moment he turned very white. then he set his teeth and threw back his shoulders. "i'm only a kid," he said, "but i've been in tight places before. you needn't be afraid to talk plain." "if they get over when it's too dark to shoot straight," said jud at last, "we 're all in." will looked at him unflinchingly. "watch the stairs," he said suddenly. "i've an idea." and the boy hurried back to the little parapet that overhung the trail that ran a thousand feet below. beyond and above him, the rim of the setting sun was coming nearer and nearer to the snow-capped mountains that cut the sky-line of the west. already their white crests were gleaming crimson in the dimming light. as he went, will fumbled in his belt and pulled out a tiny round pocket-mirror, which, with a tooth-brush, a comb, and a few other light articles, he had carried all through the trip in a rubber pocket fastened to his belt. during these happenings, miles away, concealed by the intervening range, hen and joe were riding at the head of a troop of hard-bitten, hard-faced vaqueros, the cow-boys of the south, whom they had met at the end of their first day's journey. armed with mauser rifles, and with revolvers and knives in their belts, these riders of the pampas backed their wiry little south american horses with the same ease which their brethren of the northern prairies showed. the leader of the troop had turned out to be an old friend of professor ditson, who had been with him on an expedition years before. he readily agreed to journey with joe and hen over the mountains to the lost city. the men had been rounding up half a dozen hardy, tiny burros, those diminutive donkeys which can carry their own weight of freight all day long up and down steep mountain trails. it was decided to take these along for the use of the travelers. with the obstinacy of their breed, however, there was never a time throughout the day when one or more and sometimes all of the burros were not balking at this long trip away from the ranch where food and rest were awaiting them. accordingly, it was late in the afternoon when the party reached the range behind which was hidden machu pichu. suddenly joe, who with hen, mounted on spare horses, was piloting the little troop, caught sight of a flicker of light across the crest of the highest peak of the range ahead of them. at first he thought that it came from the rays of the setting sun reflected from a bit of polished quartz. suddenly he noticed, with a sudden plunge of his heart, that the light was flickering in spaced, irregular intervals. with will and several of the other boys of his patrol, joe had won a merit badge for signaling in his boy scout troop, and his tenacious indian mind had learned forever the morse code. as he watched now he saw the sun-rays flash the fatal s o s. again and again came the same flashes, carrying the same silent appeal, which he knew could come from none other than will behind the range, heliographing with the last of the sun to the chum who had stood back of him in many a desperate pinch. as joe glanced at the setting sun he realized how short a time was left in which to save his friends. with an inarticulate cry, he turned to hen, who was jogging lazily beside him, and in a few quick words told him what he had read in the sky. with a shout hen gave the alarm to the troop behind in the rolling spanish of the pampas, and in an instant, hobbling the burros, every man was spurring his horse desperately up the steep trail. with the very last rays of the disappearing sun the message changed, and the indian boy sobbed in his throat as he read the words. "good-by, dear old joe," flickered in the sky. as the golden rim of the sun rolled beneath the horizon, will strained his eyes desperately, hoping against hope to see a rescue-party appear against the trail which showed like a white thread against the mountain-side. suddenly, in the dimming light, he saw a few black dots moving against the crest of the opposite mountain. they increased in number, and, once over the ridge, grew larger and larger until will could plainly make out a far-away troop of riders and glimpse the rush of straining horses and the stress and hurry of grim-faced men. with a shout he leaned far out over the parapet until in the distance the drumming beat of galloping hoofs sounded loud and louder. ten minutes later a long line of men with rifles in their hands were hurrying up the steep path that led to sacsahuaman. the besieged were not the only ones who knew of their coming. outside of the walls of the fort, the miranha band had understood will's shout when he first saw the distant horsemen. they too had heard the hoofbeats, which sounded louder and nearer every minute, and, although the path up the precipice could be seen only from the fort, yet from without the besiegers could hear the clink of steel against the rocks and the murmur of the voices of the climbing men. just before the rescue-party reached the fort, jud's quick ear caught the sound of muttered commands, the quick patter of feet, and through a loop-hole he saw a black band hurrying toward the other entrance to the city, carrying with them the bodies of their dead and wounded comrades. even as he looked there was a shout, and into the little fortress burst the rescue-party, headed by hen, and joe. in another minute they swarmed through the streets of the city; but the enemy was gone. at the foot of the other path the last of them were even then slipping into the darkening valley. of all the band, alive or dead, one only had been left behind. just outside the thick wall of the fort lay a huge motionless form. as jud and professor ditson approached it they recognized scar dawson, deserted by the men whom he had so recently led. as they came close they saw that he lay helpless. only his staring eyes were fixed upon them with an expression of awful appeal; yet there seemed to be no wound any where on his great body. as they bent over him, pinto pointed silently to a tiny red spot showing at the front of the outlaw's right shoulder--the mark made by one of the indian's fatal little arrows. jud stared sternly down at the helpless man. "you've only got what was comin' to you," he said. "you'd have tortured every one of us to death if you could," he went on but there was an uncertain note in his voice. "he's a bad actor if ever there was one," he blustered, turning to the others. "still, though, i'd hate to see any man die without tryin' to help him," he finished weakly. "he deserves death if any man ever did," said professor ditson grimly; "yet it does not seem right to let a man die without help." "yes," chimed in will, looking down at the dying man pityingly; "do save him if you can." the professor hesitated. "well," he said at last, "i can and i will; but i am not at all sure that i ought." beckoning to one of the vaqueros, he took from his pouch a handful of the brown salt that is part of the equipment of every south american cattle-man. reaching down, he forced open the stiffening jaws of the outlaw and pressed between them a mass of salt until dawson's mouth was completely filled with it. "swallow that as fast as you can," he commanded. even as he spoke, the muscles of the man's great body relaxed as little by little the antidote for the urari poison began to work. fifteen minutes later, tottering and white, but out of danger, the outlaw stood before them. "i have saved your life," said professor ditson, "and i hope that you will make some better use of it than you have done. your friends went down that way," he continued precisely, pointing to the path along which the indians had retreated. "i would suggest that you follow them." the outlaw stared scowlingly for a moment at the ring of armed men who stood around him. then he turned to professor ditson. "for saving my life i'll give you a tip which may save yours," he said thickly. "don't treasure-hunt in eldorado--_it's guarded_!" without another word he disappeared down the steep trail. "i hope i haven't made a mistake," murmured professor ditson to himself, as he watched scar dawson disappear in the distance. chapter xii eldorado a day and a night on burro-back brought the treasure-seekers through the mountains to yuca, the loveliest valley in the world, where nine thousand feet above the sea it is always spring. there, half a thousand years ago, the incas built their country houses, as of old the kings of israel built in the mountain-valley of jezreel, and among the ruins of stone buildings, beautiful as ahab's house of ivory, several hundred whites and half-breed indians had made their homes. in yuca professor ditson found many old friends and acquaintances, and the party rested there for a week and, thanks to jim donegan's generous letter of credit, which had survived the shipwreck, thoroughly equipped themselves for the last lap of the dash to eldorado. one morning, before the dawn of what felt like a mid-may day, the expedition headed back along the trail mounted on mules, the best and surest-footed animals for mountain work. in order to prevent any unwelcome followers, the professor allowed it to be supposed that they were going back for a further exploration of the sacred city of machu pichu. when at last they were clear of the valley, with no one in sight, he called a halt, and carefully consulted his map at a point where the trail led in and out among slopes and hillocks of wind-driven sand. "here is where we turn off," he said finally. jud suddenly produced two large, supple ox-hides which he had carried rolled up back of his saddle. "so long as we're goin' treasure-huntin'," he remarked "an' scar dawson is still above ground, i calculate to tangle our trail before we start." under his direction, the whole party rode on for a mile farther, and then doubled back and turned off at right angles from the trail, jud spreading rawhides for each mule to step on. their progress was slow, but at the end of half a mile they were out of sight of the original trail and had left no tracks behind except hollows in the sand, which the wind through the day would cover and level. for the next three days professor ditson guided them by the map among a tangle of wild mountains and through cañons so deep that they were dark at midday. at night their camp-fire showed at times like a beacon on the top of unvisited peaks, and again like a lantern in the depths of a well, as they camped at the bottom of some gorge. here and there they came upon traces of an old trail half-effaced by the centuries which had passed since it had been used in the far-away days when the incas and their followers would journey once a year to the sacred lake with their annual offerings. even although professor ditson had been to eldorado before, yet he found it necessary continually to refer to the map, so concealed and winding was the way. on the third day they reached a wide plateau which ranged just above the tropical jungles of the eastern lowlands. at first they crossed bare, burned slopes of rock, with here and there patches of scanty vegetation; but as they came to the lower levels they found themselves in a forest of vast cacti which seemed to stretch away for an immeasurable distance. some of the larger specimens towered like immense candelabras sixty and seventy feet high, and there were clumps of prickly-pears as big as barrels and covered with long, dark-red fruit which tasted like pomegranates. underfoot were trailing varieties which hugged the earth and through which the mules had to pick their way warily because of the fierce spines with which they were covered. some of the club-cacti were covered with downy, round, red fruit fully two inches in diameter, luscious, sweet and tasting much like huge strawberries. jud, who firmly believed that eating was one of the most important duties and pleasures of life, nearly foundered before they reached the pampas beyond the thorny forest. there they had another adventure in south american foods. as they were crossing a stretch of level plain, suddenly a grotesque long-legged bird started up from the tangled grass and, with long bare neck stretched out horizontally and outspread wings, charged the little troop, hissing like a goose as he came. "don't shoot!" called out professor ditson to the startled jud, who was the nearest one to the charging bird. "it's only a rhea, the south american ostrich. he'll run in a minute." sure enough, the old cock rhea, finding that he could not frighten away the intruders by his tactics, suddenly turned and shot away across the level plain, his powerful legs working like piston-rods and carrying him toward the horizon at a rate of speed that few horses could have equaled. in the deep grass they found the nest, a wide circular depression containing thirty great cream-colored eggs, the contents of each one being equal to about a dozen hen's eggs. the professor explained that the female rheas of each flock take turns laying eggs in the nest, which, as a fair division of labor, the cock bird broods and guards. after incubation starts the shell turns a pale ashy gray. the party levied on the rhea's treasure-horde to the extent of a dozen glossy, thick-shelled eggs, and for two days thereafter they had them boiled, fried, roasted, and made into omlets, until jud declared that he would be ashamed ever to look a rhea in the face again. at last, about noon of the fifth day after leaving yuca, the trail seemed to end in a great wall of rock high up among the mountains. when they reached the face of this cliff it appeared again, zigzagging up a great precipice, and so narrow that the party had to ride in single file. on one side of the path the mountain dropped off into a chasm so deep that the great trees which grew along its floor seemed as small as ferns. finally the trail ended in a long, dark tunnel, larger and higher than the one through which they had passed on the way to yuca. for nearly a hundred feet they rode through its echoing depths, and came out on the shore of an inky little lake not a quarter of a mile across, and so hidden in the very heart of the mountain that it was a mystery how any one had ever discovered it. although it sloped off sharply from its bare white beach, professor ditson told them that it was only about twenty feet deep in the center. a cloud of steam drifting lazily from the opposite shore betokened the presence of a boiling spring, and the water, in spite of the latitude, was as warm as the sun-heated surface of the amazon itself. leading the way, professor ditson showed them, hidden around a bend, a raft which he and his party had built on their earlier visit, from logs hauled up from the lower slopes with infinite pains. apparently no one had visited the lost lake since he had been there, and a few minutes later the whole party were paddling their way to the center of eldorado, where lay hidden the untold wealth of centuries of offerings. "if i could have dived myself, or if any of the indians who were with me could have done so," remarked the professor regretfully, "we need not have wasted a year's time." "well," returned jud, already much excited over the prospect of hidden treasure, "i used to do over forty feet in my twenties, when i was pearl-divin', an' now, though i'm gettin' toward fifty, i certainly ought to be able to get down twenty feet." "fifty!" exclaimed will. "fifty!" echoed joe. "fifty!" chimed in professor ditson. "that's what i said," returned jud, looking defiantly at his grinning friends, "fifty or thereabouts. i'll show you," he went on grimly, stripping off his clothes as they reached the very center of the little lake, and poising his lean, wiry body on the edge of the raft. suddenly he turned to professor ditson. "there ain't nothin' hostile livin' here in this lake, is there?" he questioned. "i don't think so," returned the professor, reassuringly. "piranhas are never found at this height, and we saw no traces of any other dangerous fish or reptiles when we were here last year." "here goes then, for a fortune!" exclaimed jud, throwing his hands over his head and leaping high into the air with a beautiful jack-knife dive. his slim body shot down out of sight in the dim, tepid water. the seconds went by, with no sign of him, until he had been under fully three minutes. just as they all began to be alarmed for his safety, his gray head suddenly shot two feet out of the water near where he had gone down. puffing like a porpoise, with a few quick strokes he reached the edge of the raft and tossed on its surface something which clinked as it struck the logs. there, gleaming in the sunlight, was a bird of solid gold, which looked like a crow, with outspread wings, and which was set thickly with rough emeralds as large as an ordinary marble. with a cheer, joe and will gripped jud's shoulders and pulled him over the side of the raft, where he lay panting in the sunlight, while the treasure was passed from hand to hand. it was nearly a foot long, and so heavy that it must have handicapped the old man considerably in his dash for the surface. "pretty good for a start," puffed jud happily, as he too examined the gleaming bird. "unless i miss my guess," he went on earnestly, "the great emerald that old jim has got his heart set on is down there, too. the bottom is pretty well silted over, but i scrabbled through the mud with my hands, an' when i struck this i figured out that i had just enough breath left to reach the top; but just as i was leavin', my fingers touched somethin' oval an' big as a hen's egg. it was pretty deep in the mud, and i didn't dare wait another second, but i'm sure i can bring it up next time." for half an hour jud rested while professor ditson told them treasure-stories which he had heard in his wanderings among the indian tribes or remembered from his studies of spanish archives. he told them the story of the galleon _santa maria_, which was sunk off the fortune islands, loaded down with a great altar of solid gold incrusted with precious stones; and of the buccaneer sir henry morgan, who sacked panama and burned and sank in the harbor what he thought were empty vessels, but which held millions of dollars in gold and jewels in double bulkheads and false bottoms, and which lie to this day in the mud of panama harbor. then, there was the story of the two great treasure-chests which drake of devon captured from the great galleon _cacafuego_. as they were being transshipped into drake's vessel, the _golden hind_, both of the chests broke loose and sank off caño island on the coast of costa rica. still at the bottom of that tiny harbor, thousands of pounds of gold bars and nuggets and a treasure of pearls and emeralds and diamonds lie waiting for some diver to recover them. then professor ditson launched into the story of pizarro's pilot, who, when the temple of pachacainac, twenty miles from lima, was looted, asked as his share of the spoils only the nails that fastened the silver plates which lined the walls of the temple. pizarro granted him what he thought was a trifling request, and the pilot received for his share over two thousand pounds of solid silver. "that's enough," said jud, starting to his feet. "here goes for the biggest treasure of all." down and down through the dim water he dived straight and true. hardly had he disappeared from sight before great air-bubbles came up and broke on the surface, and a few seconds later wavering up from the depths came what seemed to be his lifeless body with staring, horrified eyes and open mouth. as his white face showed above the surface, will and joe leaped in together, and in an instant had him out and on the raft again. in another minute the two boys were making good use of their knowledge of first aid, which they had learned as boy scouts. working as they had never worked for merit badges, they laid jud on the raft face down, with his arms above his head and his face turned a little to one side. then, while joe pulled his tongue out, will, kneeling astride his body, pressed his open hands into the spaces on either side of his ribs. then, alternately pressing and relaxing his weight as the water ran out of jud's mouth and nose, will began the artificial breathing at the rate of fifteen times a minute, while joe rubbed with all his might the old trapper's legs and body toward the heart. at the end of a couple of minutes of this strenuous treatment jud gave a gasp and at last opened his eyes. half an hour later he was able to tell what had happened. "i didn't get more than half-way down," he said weakly, "when a great greenish-yellow eel, five feet long an' big as my arm, came gliding toward me. i tried to pass it but in a second i felt its cold, clammy body pressin' against mine. then came a flash, an' somethin' broke in my head, an' the next thing i knew i was up here with you chaps workin' over me." professor ditson brought his hands together with a loud clap. "that is what dawson meant by saying the lake was guarded," he said. "what attacked jud here was a gymnotus." "a jim-what?" queried jud. "an electric eel," explained the professor. "the old priests must have brought them up from the lowlands, and they have thrived here in this warm water ever since. it carries an electric battery in the back of its head, and a big one can give a shock which will stun a strong man. wait a moment," he went on, "and i'll show you every electric eel within a radius of fifty yards." as he spoke he fumbled in his knapsack and pulled out a cylinder two feet long, wrapped in waxed paper, with a curious little clockwork attachment at one end. "i brought along two or three sticks of dynamite equipped with detonators," explained the professor. "they are really small depth-bombs. i thought," he went on, "that if the mud were too deep at the bottom of the lake, a stick or so of dynamite exploded there might stir things up. i'll set this one to go off half-way down, and the shock will stun every living thing in the water for a couple of hundred feet around." winding and setting the automatic mechanism so as to explode the bomb at a ten foot depth, the scientist carefully threw one into the water some distance from the raft. two seconds later there was a dull, heavy _plop_, and the water shouldered itself up in a great wave which nearly swamped the raft. as it went down, scores of fish of different kinds floated stunned on the surface. among them were a dozen great green-gold electric eels. as they floated by, hen slashed each one in two with his machete. as he finished the last one, will began to strip off his clothes. "i can dive twenty feet," he said, "and i'm going to have the next chance at the inca emerald." "no," objected professor ditson, "let hen try it. he's a great swimmer." jud also protested weakly that he wanted to go down again; but will cut short all further argument by diving deep into the center of the still heaving circle of widening ripples in front of the raft. even as he did so, hen, who had stood up to take his place, gave a cry of warning; but it was too late to reach the boy's ears, already deep under the water. just beyond the circle of the ripples drifted what seemed to be the end of a floating snag; yet the quick eyes of the negro had caught the glint of a pair of green, catlike eyes showing below the tip of a pointed snout which looked like a bit of driftwood. "it's a big 'gator," he murmured to professor ditson, who stood beside him. the latter took one look at the great pointed head and olive-colored body, now showing plainly in the water. "it's worse than that," he whispered, as if afraid of attracting the saurian's attention. "it's an american crocodile. the explosion and the sight of the dead fish have brought it over from the farther shore." without paying any attention to the raft or the men, the great crocodile suddenly sank through the water, so close to them that they could see its triangular head, with the large tooth showing on each side of its closed lower jaw, which is one of the features that distinguishes a crocodile from an alligator. even as they watched, wavering up through the smoky water came the white figure of the boy from the depths below, swimming strongly toward the surface, his right hand clasped tightly around some large object. even as they glimpsed the ascending body, a gasp of horror went up from the little group on the raft. before their very eyes, with a scythe-like flirt of its long, flattened tail, the great reptile shot its fifteen-foot body down toward the swimming boy. not until fairly overshadowed by the rushing bulk of the crocodile did will realize his danger. then he tried frantically to swerve out of the line of the rush of this terrible guardian of the treasure-horde. it was too late. even as he swung away, the cruel jaws of the great saurian opened with a flash of curved keen teeth and closed with a death-grip on will's bare thigh. with a shout and a splash, the black form of the giant negro shot down into the water. hen had learned to love the happy-hearted, unselfish boy, and, desperate at the sight of his danger, had gone to his rescue. no man nor any ten men can pull apart the closed jaws of a man-eating crocodile. the plated mail in which he is armored from head to tail can not be pierced by a knife-thrust and will even turn aside a bullet from any except the highest powered rifles. yet all the crocodilians--alligators, crocodiles, gavials, or caymans--have one vulnerable spot, and hen, who had hunted alligators in florida bayous, knew what this was. swimming as the onlookers had never seen man swim before, the great negro shot toward the crocodile, which was hampered by the struggling boy, locked his strong legs around the reptile's scaly body, and sank both of his powerful thumbs deep into the sockets of the crocodile's eyes. the great saurian writhed horribly as he felt the rending pain. inexorably the thumbs of his assailant gouged out the the soft tissues of the eye-sockets until the crocodile reluctantly loosed his grip and sought refuge from the unbearable pain by a rush into the deeps beyond the raft. as the great jaws opened, hen unwound his legs from the armored body, and, catching will in his mighty arms, shot up to the surface with him. in another moment the boy, slashed and torn, but conscious, was stretched on the raft beside jud, while joe and the professor bound up the gashes in his thigh, which, although bleeding profusely, were not deep enough to be dangerous. as the last knot of the hasty bandages was tied, will smiled weakly and opened his right hand. there, in the outstretched palm, gleamed and coruscated the green glory of a great oval emerald, cut and polished by some skilful lapidarist perhaps a thousand years ago. lost for centuries, the gem which had been worshiped by a great nation had once again come to the earth from which it had disappeared. three weeks later, professor amandus ditson lay sleeping in a luxurious bedroom on the ground floor of the rambling house of a spanish friend whom he was visiting in the beautiful, historic, blood-stained city of lima. in other rooms of the same house slept will and jud and joe. two days later the steamer would sail which was to take them all back north. pinto was already on his way back to his wife and children at para, and hen was visiting friends of his own in the city and intended to join the party on the steamer. the silence of the night was broken abruptly by a grating, creaking noise, and into the room of the sleeping scientist through the veranda window stepped a great masked figure. as the electric lights were switched on. professor ditson awoke to find himself looking into the barrel of an automatic revolver. "give me the treasure from eldorado," croaked a voice from behind the mask, "if you want to keep on livin'." the scientist stared steadily at the speaker for a moment before he spoke. "if you will take off your mask, dawson," he said finally, "i am sure you will find it more comfortable. i was positive," he went on, as the other obeyed and showed the scarred, scowling face of the outlaw, "that i made a mistake in sparing your life." "i'll spare yours, too," retorted dawson, "unless you make me kill you. i'm goin' to take the treasure an' light out. it would be much safer for me to kill you, but i won't unless i have to--just to show you how grateful i am." "i appreciate your consideration," returned the scientist, quietly; "but you're too late. the treasure is not here." "i know better," growled dawson. "i've had you shadowed ever since you got here. it's locked in that leather bag, which never leaves your sight day or night, an' i'm goin' to take it right now." suiting his action to his words, and still keeping his revolver leveled at the professor, the outlaw pulled toward him a big cowskin bag, which, as he said truly, the scientist had kept with him night and day ever since he purchased it at a shop in lima the morning of his arrival. "dawson," returned professor ditson, earnestly. "i give you my word as a gentleman that the treasure is now in the safe on the steamer which leaves the day after to-morrow, and i hold the receipt of the steamship company for it. don't open that bag. there is nothing in it for you but--death." "i'll see about that," muttered scar dawson. "don't move," he warned, as the scientist started up from his bed. "i'll shoot if you make me." even as he spoke, he drew a knife from his belt and slit the leather side of the bag its whole length with a quick slash, and started to thrust in his hand. as he did so he gave a yell of terror, for out from the opening suddenly appeared, wavering and hissing horribly, the ghastly head of the great bushmaster which the scientist had carried and cared for all the way from the amazon basin. in another second, half its great length reared threateningly before the terrified outlaw. with one more yell, dawson threw himself backward. there was a crash of broken glass, and by the time will and jud and joe and their host, aroused by the noise, had reached the room, they found only professor ditson, coolly tying up the damaged bag, into which, by some means known only to himself, he had persuaded the bushmaster to return. to-day, in the world-famous gem collection of big jim donegan, in the place of honor, gleams and glows the great emerald of the incas. what he did for those who won the treasure for him, and how that same party of treasure-hunters traveled far to bring back to him that grim, beautiful, and historic stone of the far east, the red diamond--well, that's still another story. [frontispiece: h.m.s. _lutine_ leaving yarmouth roads, oct. , , on her last voyage. (_from the painting by frank mason, r.a., in the committee room of lloyd's, london._) _see chapter xi._] the book of buried treasure being a true history of the gold, jewels, and plate of pirates, galleons, etc., which are sought for to this day by ralph d. paine author of "the ships and sailors of old salem," etc. illustrated london william heinemann copyright by metropolitan magazine company copyright by sturgis & walton company set up and electrotyped. published september, contents chapter i the world-wide hunt for vanished riches ii captain kidd in fact and fiction iii captain kidd, his treasure iv captain kidd, his trial and death v the wondrous fortune of william phips vi the bold sea rogue, john quelch vii the armada galleon of tobermory bay viii the lost plate fleet of vigo ix the pirates' hoard of trinidad x the lure of cocos island xi the mystery of the lutine frigate xii the toilers of the thetis xiii the quest of el dorado xiv the wizardry of the divining rod xv sundry pirates and their booty xvi practical hints for treasure seekers illustrations h. m. s. _lutine_ leaving yarmouth roads, oct. , , on her last voyage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _frontispiece_ treasure-seekers' camp at cape vidal on african coast divers searching wreck of treasure-ship _dorothea_, cape vidal, africa captain kidd burying his bible carousing at old calabar river the idle apprentice goes to sea john gardiner's sworn statement of the goods and treasure left with him by kidd governor bellomont's endorsement of the official inventory of kidd's treasure found on gardiner's island the official inventory of the kidd treasure found on gardiner's island a memorandum of captain kidd's treasure left on gardiner's island statement of edward davis, who sailed home with kidd, concerning the landing of the treasure and goods the french pass or safe conduct paper found by kidd in the ship _quedah merchant_ kidd hanging in chains "the pirates' stairs" leading to the site of execution dock at wapping where kidd was hanged sir william phips, first royal governor of massachusetts map of hispaniola (hayti and san domingo) engraved in , showing the buccaneers at their trade of hunting wild cattle permit issued by sir william phips as royal governor in which he uses the title "vice-admiral" which involved him in disastrous quarrels the oldest existing print of boston harbor as it appeared in the time of sir william phips, showing the kind of ships in which he sailed to find his treasure an ancient map of jamaica showing the haunts of the pirates and the track of the treasure galleons the town and bay of tobermory, island of mull duart castle, chief stronghold of the macleans ardnamurchan castle, seat of the macians and the macdonalds defeat of the spanish armada diving to find the treasure galleon in tobermory bay the salvage steamer _breamer_ equipped with suction dredge removing a sandbank from the supposed location of the _florencia_ galleon in scabbards, flasks, cannon balls, and small objects recovered from the sunken armada galleon stone cannon balls and breech-block of a breech-loading gun fished up from the wreck of the _florencia_ galleon sir george rooke, commanding the british fleet at the battle of vigo bay _the royal sovereign_, one of admiral sir george rooke's line-of-battle ships, engaged at vigo bay framework of an "elevator" devised by pino for raising the galleons in vigo bay an "elevator" with air bags inflated cannon of the treasure galleons recovered by pino from the bottom of vigo bay hydroscope invented by pino for exploring the sea bottom and successfully used in finding the galleons of vigo bay lima cathedral treasure-seekers digging on cocos island christian cruse, the hermit treasure-seeker of cocos island thetis cove in calm weather, showing salvage operations thetis cove during the storm which wrecked the salvage equipment sir walter raleigh methods of manipulating the diving rod to find buried treasure gibbs and wansley burying the treasure the portuguese captain cutting away the bag of moidores interview between lafitte, general andrew jackson, and governor claiborne the death of black beard the book of buried treasure of all the lives i ever say, a pirate's be for i. hap what hap may he's allus gay an' drinks an' bungs his eye. for his work he's never loth: an' a-pleasurin' he'll go; tho' certain sure to be popt off, yo, ho, with the rum below! in bristowe i left poll ashore, well stored wi' togs an' gold, an' off i goes to sea for more, a-piratin' so bold. an' wounded in the arm i got, an' then a pretty blow; comed home i find poll's flowed away, yo, ho, with the rum below! an' when my precious leg was lopt, just for a bit of fun, i picks it up, on t'other hopt, an' rammed it in a gun. "what's that for?" cries out salem dick; "what for, my jumpin' beau? "why, to give the lubbers one more kick!" yo, ho, with the rum below! i 'llows this crazy hull o' mine at sea has had its share: marooned three times an' wounded nine an' blowed up in the air. but ere to execution bay the wind these bones do blow, i'll drink an' fight what's left away, yo, ho, with the rum below! --_an old english ballad_. the book of buried treasure chapter i the world-wide hunt for vanished riches the language has no more boldly romantic words than _pirate_ and _galleon_ and the dullest imagination is apt to be kindled by any plausible dream of finding their lost treasures hidden on lonely beach or tropic key, or sunk fathoms deep in salt water. in the preface of that rare and exceedingly diverting volume, "the pirates' own book," the unnamed author sums up the matter with so much gusto and with so gorgeously appetizing a flavor that he is worth quoting to this extent: "with the name of pirate is also associated ideas of rich plunder, caskets of buried jewels, chests of gold ingots, bags of outlandish coins, secreted in lonely, out of the way places, or buried about the wild shores of rivers and unexplored sea coasts, near rocks and trees bearing mysterious marks indicating where the treasure was hid. and as it is his invariable practice to secrete and bury his booty, and from the perilous life he leads, being often killed or captured, he can never revisit the spot again, therefore immense sums remain buried in those places and are irrevocably lost. search is often made by persons who labor in anticipation of throwing up with their spade and pickaxe, gold bars, diamond crosses sparkling amongst the dirt, bags of golden doubloons and chests wedged close with moidores, ducats and pearls; but although great treasures lie hid in this way, it seldom happens that any is recovered."[ ] in this tamed, prosaic age of ours, treasure-seeking might seem to be the peculiar province of fiction, but the fact is that expeditions are fitting out every little while, and mysterious schooners flitting from many ports, lured by grimy, tattered charts presumed to show where the hoards were hidden, or steering their courses by nothing more tangible than legend and surmise. as the kidd tradition survives along the atlantic coast, so on divers shores of other seas persist the same kind of wild tales, the more convincing of which are strikingly alike in that the lone survivor of the red-handed crew, having somehow escaped the hanging, shooting, or drowning that he handsomely merited, preserved a chart showing where the treasure had been hid. unable to return to the place, he gave the parchment to some friend or shipmate, this dramatic transfer usually happening as a death-bed ceremony. the recipient, after digging in vain and heartily damning the departed pirate for his misleading landmarks and bearings, handed the chart down to the next generation. it will be readily perceived that this is the stock motive of almost all buried treasure fiction, the trademark of a certain brand of adventure story, but it is really more entertaining to know that such charts and records exist and are made use of by the expeditions of the present day. opportunity knocks at the door. he who would gamble in shares of such a speculation may find sun-burned, tarry gentlemen, from seattle to singapore, and from capetown to new zealand, eager to whisper curious information of charts and sailing directions, and to make sail and away. some of them are still seeking booty lost on cocos island off the coast of costa rica where a dozen expeditions have futilely sweated and dug; others have cast anchor in harbors of guam and the carolines; while as you run from aden to vladivostock, sailormen are never done with spinning yarns of treasure buried by the pirates of the indian ocean and the china sea. out from callao the treasure hunters fare to clipperton island, or the gallapagos group where the buccaneers with dampier and davis used to careen their ships, and from valparaiso many an expedition has found its way to juan fernandez and magellan straits. the topsails of these salty argonauts have been sighted in recent years off the salvages to the southward of madeira where two millions of spanish gold were buried in chests, and pick and shovel have been busy on rocky trinidad in the south atlantic which conceals vast stores of plate and jewels left there by pirates who looted the galleons of lima. near cape vidal, on the coast of zululand, lies the wreck of the notorious sailing vessel _dorothea_, in whose hold is treasure to the amount of two million dollars in gold bars concealed beneath a flooring of cement. it was believed for some time that the ill-fated _dorothea_ was fleeing with the fortune of oom paul kruger on board when she was cast ashore. the evidence goes to show, however, that certain officials of the transvaal government, before the boer war, issued permits to several lawless adventurers, allowing them to engage in buying stolen gold from the mines. this illicit traffic flourished largely, and so successful was this particular combination that a ship was bought, the _ernestine_, and after being overhauled and renamed the _dorothea_, she secretly shipped the treasure on board in delagoa bay. it was only the other day that a party of restless young americans sailed in the old racing yacht _mayflower_ bound out to seek the wreck of a treasure galleon on the coast of jamaica. their vessel was dismasted and abandoned at sea, and they had all the adventure they yearned for. one of them, roger derby of boston, of a family famed for its deep-water mariners in the olden times, ingenuously confessed some time later, and here you have the spirit of the true treasure-seeker: "i am afraid that there is no information accessible in documentary or printed form of the wreck that we investigated a year ago. most of it is hearsay, and when we went down there on a second trip after losing the _mayflower_, we found little to prove that a galleon had been lost, barring some old cannon, flint rock ballast, and square iron bolts. we found absolutely no gold." ====================================================================== [illustration: treasure-seekers' camp at cape vidal on african coast.] divers searching wreck of treasure ship dorothea, cape vidal, africa. ====================================================================== the coast of madagascar, once haunted by free-booters who plundered the rich east indiamen, is still ransacked by treasure seekers, and american soldiers in the philippines indefatigably excavate the landscape of luzon in the hope of finding the hoard of spanish gold buried by the chinese mandarin chan lu suey in the eighteenth century. every island of the west indies and port of the spanish main abounds in legends of the mighty sea rogues whose hard fate it was to be laid by the heels before they could squander the gold that had been won with cutlass, boarding pike and carronade. the spirit of true adventure lives in the soul of the treasure hunter. the odds may be a thousand to one that he will unearth a solitary doubloon, yet he is lured to undertake the most prodigious exertions by the keen zest of the game itself. the english novelist, george r. sims, once expressed this state of mind very exactly. "respectable citizens, tired of the melancholy sameness of a drab existence, cannot take to crape masks, dark lanterns, silent matches, and rope ladders, but they can all be off to a pirate island and search for treasure and return laden or empty without a stain upon their characters. i know a fine old pirate who sings a good song and has treasure islands at his fingers' ends. i think i can get together a band of adventurers, middle-aged men of established reputation in whom the public would have confidence, who would be only too glad to enjoy a year's romance." robert louis stevenson who dearly loved a pirate and wrote the finest treasure story of them all around a proper chart of his own devising, took henry james to task for confessing that although he had been a child he had never been on a quest for buried treasure. "here is indeed a willful paradox," exclaimed the author of "treasure island," "for if he has never been on a quest for buried treasure, it can be demonstrated that he has never been a child. there never was a child (unless master james), but has hunted gold, and been a pirate, and a military commander, and a bandit of the mountains; but has fought, and suffered shipwreck and prison, and imbrued its little hands in gore, and gallantly retrieved the lost battle, and triumphantly protected innocence and beauty." mark twain also indicated the singular isolation of henry james by expressing precisely the same opinion in his immortal chronicle of the adventures of tom sawyer. "there comes a time in every rightly constructed boy's life when he has a raging desire to go somewhere and dig for buried treasure." and what an entrancing career tom had planned for himself in an earlier chapter! "at the zenith of his fame, how he would suddenly appear at the old village and stalk into church, brown and weather-beaten, in his black velvet doublet and trunks, his great jack-boots, his crimson sash, his belt bristling with horse-pistols, his crime-rusted cutlass at his side, his slouch hat with waving plumes, his black flag unfurled, with the skull and cross-bones on it, and hear with swelling ecstasy the whisperings, 'it's tom sawyer the pirate!--the black avenger of the spanish main.'" when tom and huck finn went treasure seeking they observed the time-honored rules of the game, as the following dialogue will recall to mind: "where'll we dig?" said huck. "oh, most anywhere." "why, is it hid all around?" "no, indeed it ain't. it's hid in mighty particular places, huck, sometimes on islands, sometimes in rotten chests under the limb of an old dead tree, just where the shadow falls at midnight; but mostly under the floor in ha'nted houses." "who hides it?" "why, robbers, of course. who'd you reckon, sunday-school superintendents?" "i don't know. if 'twas mine i wouldn't hide it; i'd spend it and have a good time." "so would i. but robbers don't do that way. they always hide it and leave it there." "don't they come after it any more!" "no, they think they will, but they generally forget the marks or else they die. anyway, it lays there a long time and gets rusty; and by and by somebody finds an old yellow paper that tells how to find the marks,--a paper that's got to be ciphered over about a week because it's mostly signs and hy'roglyphics." hunting lost treasure is not work but a fascinating kind of play that belongs to the world of make believe. it appeals to that strain of boyishness which survives in the average man even though his pow be frosted, his reputation starched and conservative. it is, after all, an inherited taste handed down from the golden age of fairies. the folk-lore of almost every race is rich in buried treasure stories. the pirate with his stout sea chest hidden above high-water mark is lineally descended from the enchanting characters who lived in the shadow land of myth and fable. the hoard of captain kidd, although he was turned off at execution dock only two hundred years ago, has become as legendary as the dream of the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. many a hard-headed farmer and fisherman of the new england coast believes that it is rash business to go digging for kidd's treasure unless one carefully performs certain incantations designed to placate the ghostly guardian who aforetime sailed with kidd and was slain by him after the hole was dug lest the secret might thus be revealed. and it is of course well known that if a word is spoken after the pick has clinked against the iron-bound chest or metal pot, the devil flies away with the treasure, leaving behind him only panic and a strong smell of brimstone. such curious superstitions as these, strongly surviving wherever pirate gold is sought, have been the common property of buried-treasure stories in all ages. the country-folk of japan will tell you that if a pot of money is found a rice cake must be left in place of every coin taken away, and imitation money burned as an offering to any spirit that may be offended by the removal of the hoard. the negroes of the west indies explain that the buried wealth of the buccaneers is seldom found because the spirits that watch over it have a habit of whisking the treasure away to parts unknown as soon as ever the hiding-place is disturbed. among the bedouins is current the legend that immense treasures were concealed by solomon beneath the foundations of palmyra and that sapient monarch took the precaution of enlisting an army of jinns to guard the gold forever more. in parts of bohemia the peasants are convinced that a blue light hovers above the location of buried treasure, invisible to all mortal eyes save those of the person destined to find it. in many corners of the world there has long existed the belief in the occult efficacy of a black cock or a black cat in the equipment of a treasure quest which is also influenced by the particular phases of the moon. a letter written from bombay as long ago as , contained a quaint account of an incident inspired by this particular superstition. "upon a dream of a negro girl of mahim that there was a mine of treasure, who being overheard relating it, domo, alvares, and some others went to the place and sacrificed a cock and dugg the ground but found nothing. they go to bundarra at salsett, where disagreeing, the government there takes notice of the same, and one of them, an inhabitant of bombay, is sent to the inquisition at goa, which proceedings will discourage the inhabitants. wherefore the general is desired to issue a proclamation to release him, and if not restored in twenty days, no roman catholick worship to be allowed on the island." a more recent chronicler, writing in _the ceylon times_, had this to say: "it is the belief of all orientals that hidden treasures are under the guardianship of supernatural beings. the cingalese divide the charge between the demons and the cobra da capello (guardian of the king's ankus in kipling's story). various charms are resorted to by those who wish to gain the treasure because the demons require a sacrifice. the blood of a human being is the most important, but so far as is known, the cappowas have hitherto confined themselves to the sacrifice of a white cock, combining its blood with their own drawn from the hand or foot." no more fantastic than this are the legends of which the british isles yield a plentiful harvest. thomas of walsingham tells the tale of a saracen physician who betook himself to earl warren of the fourteenth century to ask courteous permission that he might slay a dragon, or "loathly worm" which had its den at bromfield near ludlow and had wrought sad ravages on the earl's lands. the saracen overcame the monster, whether by means of his medicine chest or his trusty steel the narrator sayeth not, and then it was learned that a great hoard of gold was hidden in its foul den. some men of herefordshire sallied forth by night to search for the treasure, and were about to lay hands on it when retainers of the earl of warwick captured them and took the booty to their lord. blenkinsopp castle is haunted by a very sorrowful white lady. her husband, bryan de blenkinsopp, was uncommonly greedy of gold, which he loved better than his wife, and she, being very jealous and angry, was mad enough to hide from him a chest of treasure so heavy that twelve strong men were needed to lift it. later she was overtaken by remorse because of this undutiful behavior and to this day her uneasy ghost flits about the castle, supposedly seeking the spirit of bryan de blenkinsopp in order that she may tell him what she did with his pelf. when corfe castle in dorsetshire was besieged by cromwell's troops, lady bankes conducted a heroic defense. betrayed by one of her own garrison, and despairing of holding out longer, she threw all the plate and jewels into a very deep well in the castle yard, and pronounced a curse against anyone who should try to find it ere she returned. she then ordered the traitor to be hanged, and surrendered the place. the treasure was never found, and perhaps later owners have been afraid of the militant ghost of lady bankes. from time immemorial, tradition had it that a great treasure was buried near the kibble in lancashire. a saying had been handed down that anyone standing on the hill at walton-le-dale and looking up the valley toward the site of ancient richester would gaze over the greatest treasure that england had ever known. digging was undertaken at intervals during several centuries, until in laborers accidentally excavated a mass of silver ornaments, armlets, neck-chains, amulets and rings, weighing together about a thousand ounces, and more than seven thousand silver coins, mostly of king alfred's time, all enclosed in a leaden case only three feet beneath the surface of the ground. many of these ornaments and coins are to be seen at the british museum. on a farm in the scotch parish of lesmahagow is a boulder beneath which is what local tradition calls "a kettle full, a boat full, and a bull's hide full of gold that is katie nevin's hoord." and for ages past 'tis well known that a pot of gold has lain at the bottom of a pool at the tail of a water-fall under crawfurdland bridge, three miles from kilmarnock. the last attempt to fish it up was made by one of the lairds of the place who diverted the stream and emptied the pool, and the implements of the workmen actually rang against the precious kettle when a mysterious voice was heard to cry: "paw! paw! crawfurdland's tower's in a law." the laird and his servants scampered home to find out whether the tower had been "laid law," but the alarm was only a stratagem of the spirit that did sentry duty over the treasure. when the party returned to the pool, it was filled to the brim and the water was "running o'er the linn," which was an uncanny thing to see, and the laird would have nothing more to do with treasure seeking. the people of glenary in the highlands long swore by the legend that golden treasure was hidden in their valley and that it would not be found until sought for by the son of a stranger. at length, while a newly drained field was being plowed, a large rock was shattered by blasting, and under it were found many solid gold bracelets of antique pattern and cunningly ornamented. the old people knew that the prophecy had come true, for the youth who held the plow was the son of an englishman, a rare being in those parts a few generations ago. everyone knows that ireland is fairly peppered with "crocks o' goold" which the peasantry would have dug up long before this, but the treasure is invariably in the keeping of "the little black men" and they raise the divil and all with the bold intruder, and lucky he is if he is not snatched away, body, soul, and breeches. many a fine lad has left home just before midnight with a mattock under his arm, and maybe there was a terrible clap of thunder and that was the last of him except the empty hole and the mattock beside it which his friends found next morning. in france treasure seeking has been at times a popular madness. the traditions of the country are singularly alluring, and perhaps the most romantic of them is that of the "great treasure of gourdon" which is said to have existed since the reign of clovis in the sixth century. the chronicle of all the wealth buried in the cemetery of this convent at gourdon in the department of the lot has been preserved, including detailed lists of gold and silver, rubies, emeralds and pearls. the convent was sacked and plundered by the normans, and the treasurer, or custodian, who had buried all the valuables of the religious houses under the sway of the same abbot, was murdered while trying to escape to the feudal seignor of gourdon with the crosier of the lord abbott. "the head of the crosier was of solid gold," says an ancient manuscript, "and the rubies with which it was studded of such wondrous size that at one single blow the soldier who tore it from the monk's grasp and used it as a weapon against him, beat in his brains as with a sledge-hammer." not only through the middle ages was the search resumed from time to time, but from the latter days of the reign of louis xiv until the revolution, tradition relates that the cemetery of the convent was ransacked at frequent intervals. at length, in , the quest was abandoned after antiquarians, geologists, and engineers had gravely agreed that further excavation would be futile. the french treasure seekers went elsewhere and then a peasant girl confused the savants by discovering what was undeniably a part of the lost riches of gourdon. she was driving home the cows from a pasture of the abbey lands when a shower caused her to take shelter in a hollow scooped out of a sand-bank by laborers mending the road. some of the earth caved in upon her and while she was freeing herself, down rolled a salver, a paten, and a flagon, all of pure gold, richly chased and studded with emeralds and rubies. these articles were taken to paris and advertised for sale by auction, the government bidding them in and placing them in the museum of the bibliotheque. during the reign of napoleon iii there died a very famous treasure seeker, one ducasse, who believed that he was about to discover "the master treasure" (_le maitre tresor_) said to be among the ruins of the ancient belgian abbey of orval. ducasse was a builder by trade and had gained a large fortune in government contracts every sou of which he wasted in exploring at orval. it was alleged that the treasure had been buried by the monks and that the word nemo carved on the tomb of the last abbott held the key to the location of the hiding-place. in mexico one hears similar tales of vast riches buried by religious orders when menaced by war or expulsion. one of these is to be found in the south-western part of the state of chihuahua where a great gorge is cut by the rio verde. in this remote valley are the ruins of a church built by the jesuits, and when they were about to be driven from their settlement they sealed up and destroyed all traces of a fabulously rich mine in which was buried millions of bullion. instead of the more or less stereotyped ghosts familiar as sentinels over buried treasure, these lost hoards of mexico are haunted by a specter even more disquieting than phantom pirates or "little black men." it is "the weeping woman" who makes strong men cross themselves and shiver in their serapes, and many have heard or seen her. a member of a party seeking buried treasure in the heart of the sierra madre mountains solemnly affirmed as follows: "we were to measure, at night, a certain distance from a cliff which was to be found by the relative positions of three tall trees. it was on a bleak tableland nine thousand feet above the sea. the wind chilled us to the marrow, although we were only a little to the north of the tropic of cancer. we rode all night and waited for the dawn in the darkest and coldest hours of those altitudes. by the light of pitch pine torches we consulted a map and decided that we had found the right place. we rode forward a little and brushed against three soft warm things. turning in our saddles, by the flare of our torches held high above our heads we beheld three corpses swaying in the wind. a wailing cry of a woman's voice came from close at hand, and we fled as if pursued by a thousand demons. my comrades assured me that the weeping woman had brushed past us in her eternal flight." this is a singular narrative but it would not be playing fair to doubt it. to be over-critical of buried treasure stories is to clip the wings of romance and to condemn the spirit of adventure to a pedestrian gait. all these tales are true, or men of sane and sober repute would not go a-treasure hunting by land and sea, and so long as they have a high-hearted, boyish faith in their mysterious charts and hazy information, doubters make a poor show of themselves and stand confessed as thin-blooded dullards who never were young. scattered legends of many climes have been mentioned at random to show that treasure is everywhere enveloped in a glamour peculiarly its own. the base iconoclast may perhaps demolish santa claus (which god forbid), but industrious dreamers will be digging for the gold of captain kidd, long after the last christmas stocking shall have been pinned above the fireplace. there are no conscious liars among the tellers of treasure tales. the spell is upon them. they believe their own yarns, and they prove their faith by their back-breaking works with pick and shovel. here, for example, is a specimen, chosen at hazard, one from a thousand cut from the same cloth. this is no modern ananias speaking but a gray-bearded, god-fearing clam-digger of jewell's island in casco bay on the coast of maine. "i can't remember when the treasure hunters first began coming to this island, but as long ago as my father's earliest memories they used to dig for gold up and down the shore. that was in the days when they were superstitious enough to spill lamb's blood along the ground where they dug in order to keep away the devil and his imps. i can remember fifty years ago when they brought a girl down here and mesmerized her to see if she could not lead them to the hidden wealth. "the biggest mystery, though, of all the queer things that have happened here in the last hundred years was the arrival of the man from st. john's when i was a youngster. he claimed to have the very chart showing the exact spot where kidd's gold was buried. he said he had got it from an old negro in st. john's who was with captain kidd when he was coasting the islands in this bay. he showed up here when old captain chase that lived here then was off to sea in his vessel. so he waited around a few days till the captain returned, for he wanted to use a mariner's compass to locate the spot according to the directions on the chart. "when captain chase came ashore the two went off up the beach together, and the man from st. john's was never seen again, neither hide nor hair of him, and it is plumb certain that he wasn't set off in a boat from jewell's. "the folks here found a great hole dug on the southeast shore which looked as if a large chest had been lifted out of it. of course conclusions were drawn, but nobody got at the truth. four years ago someone found a skeleton in the woods, unburied, simply dropped into a crevice in the rocks with a few stones thrown over it. no one knows whose body it was, although some say,--but never mind about that. this old captain jonathan chase was said to have been a pirate, and his house was full of underground passages and sliding panels and queer contraptions, such as no honest, law-abiding man could have any use for." the worthy benjamin franklin was an admirable guide for young men, a sound philosopher, and a sagacious statesman, but he cannot be credited with romantic imagination. he would have been the last person in the world to lead a buried treasure expedition or to find pleasure in the company of the most eminent and secretive pirate that ever scuttled a ship or made mysterious marks upon a well-thumbed chart plentifully spattered with candle-grease and rum. he even took pains to discourage the diverting industry of treasure seeking as it flourished among his quaker neighbors and discharged this formidable broadside in the course of a series of essays known as "the busy-body series": "... there are among us great numbers of honest artificers and laboring people, who, fed with a vain hope of suddenly growing rich, neglect their business, almost to the ruining of themselves and families, and voluntarily endure abundance of fatigue in a fruitless search after imaginary hidden treasure. they wander through the woods and bushes by day to discover the marks and signs; at midnight they repair to the hopeful spots with spades and pickaxes; full of expectation, they labor violently, trembling at the same time in every joint through fear of certain malicious demons, who are said to haunt and guard such places. "at length a mighty hole is dug, and perhaps several cart-loads of earth thrown out; but, alas, no keg or iron pot is found. no seaman's chest crammed with spanish pistoles, or weighty pieces of eight! they conclude that, through some mistake in the procedure, some rash word spoken, or some rule of art neglected, the guardian spirit had power to sink it deeper into the earth, and convey it out of their reach. yet, when a man is once infatuated, he is so far from being discouraged by ill success that he is rather animated to double his industry, and will try again and again in a hundred different places in hopes of meeting at last with some lucky hit, that shall at once sufficiently reward him for all his expenses of time and labor. "this odd humor of digging for money, through a belief that much has been hidden by pirates formerly frequenting the (schuylkill) river, has for several years been mighty prevalent among us; insomuch that you can hardly walk half a mile out of the town on any side without observing several pits dug with that design, and perhaps some lately opened. men otherwise of very good sense have been drawn into this practice through an overweening desire of sudden wealth, and an easy credulity of what they so earnestly wished might be true. there seems to be some peculiar charm in the conceit of finding money and if the sands of schuylkill were so much mixed with small grains of gold that a man might in a day's time with care and application get together to the value of half a crown, i make no question but we should find several people employed there that can with ease earn five shillings a day at their proper trade. "many are the idle stories told of the private success of some people, by which others are encouraged to proceed; and the astrologers, with whom the country swarms at this time, are either in the belief of these things themselves, or find their advantage in persuading others to believe them; for they are often consulted about the critical times for digging, the methods of laying the spirit, and the like whimseys, which renders them very necessary to, and very much caressed by these poor, deluded money hunters. "there is certainly something very bewitching in the pursuit after mines of gold and silver and other valuable metals, and many have been ruined by it.... "let honest peter buckram, who has long without success been a searcher after hidden money, reflect on this, and be reclaimed from that unaccountable folly. let him consider that every stitch he takes when he is on his shopboard, is picking up part of a grain of gold that will in a few days' time amount to a pistole; and let faber think the same of every nail he drives, or every stroke with his plane. such thoughts may make them industrious, and, in consequence, in time they may be wealthy. "but how absurd it is to neglect a certain profit for such a ridiculous whimsey; to spend whole days at the 'george' in company with an idle pretender to astrology, contriving schemes to discover what was never hidden, and forgetful how carelessly business is managed at home in their absence; to leave their wives and a warm bed at midnight (no matter if it rain, hail, snow, or blow a hurricane, provided that be the critical hour), and fatigue themselves with the violent digging for what they shall never find, and perhaps getting a cold that may cost their lives, or at least disordering themselves so as to be fit for no business beside for some days after. surely this is nothing less than the most egregious folly and madness. "i shall conclude with the words of the discreet friend agricola of chester county when he gave his son a good plantation. 'my son,' said he, 'i give thee now a valuable parcel of land; i assure thee i have found a considerable quantity of gold by digging there; thee mayest do the same; but thee must carefully observe this, _never to dig more than plough-deep_." for once the illustrious franklin shot wide of the mark. these treasure hunters of philadelphia, who had seen with their own eyes more than one notorious pirate, even blackbeard himself, swagger along front street or come roaring out of the blue anchor tavern by dock creek, were finding their reward in the coin of romance. digging mighty holes for a taskmaster would have been irksome, stupid business indeed, even for five shillings a day. they got a fearsome kind of enjoyment in "trembling violently through fear of certain malicious demons." and honest peter buckram no doubt discovered that life was more zestful when he was plying shovel and pickaxe, or whispering with an astrologer in a corner of the "george" than during the flat hours of toil with shears and goose. if the world had charted its course by poor richard's almanac, there would be a vast deal more thrift and sober industry than exists, but no room for the spirit of adventure which reckons not its returns in dollars and cents. there are many kinds of lost treasure, by sea and by land. some of them, however, lacking the color of romance and the proper backgrounds of motive and incident, have no stories worth telling. for instance, there were almost five thousand wrecks on the great lakes during a period of twenty years, and these lost vessels carried down millions of treasure or property worth trying to recover. one steamer had five hundred thousand dollars' worth of copper in her hold. divers and submarine craft and wrecking companies have made many attempts to recover these vanished riches, and with considerable success, now and then fishing up large amounts of gold coin and bullion. it goes without saying that the average sixteen-year-old boy could extract not one solitary thrill from a tale of lost treasure in the great lakes, even though the value might be fairly fabulous. but let him hear that a number of spanish coins have been washed up by the waves on a beach of yucatan and the discovery has set the natives to searching for the buried treasure of jean lafitte, the "pirate of the gulf," and our youngster pricks up his ears. many noble merchantmen in modern times have foundered or crashed ashore in various seas with large fortunes in their treasure rooms, and these are sought by expeditions, but because these ships were not galleons nor carried a freightage of doubloons and pieces of eight, most of them must be listed in the catalogue of undistinguished sea tragedies. the distinction is really obvious. the treasure story must have the picaresque flavor or at least concern itself with bold deeds done by strong men in days gone by. like wine its bouquet is improved by age. it is the fashion to consider lost treasure as the peculiar property of pirates and galleons, and yet what has become of the incredibly vast riches of all the vanished kings, despots, and soldiers who plundered the races of men from the beginnings of history? where is the loot of ancient home that was buried with alaric! where is the dazzling treasure of samarcand? where is the wealth of antioch, and where the jewels which solomon gave the queen of sheba? during thousands of years of warfare the treasures of the old world could be saved from the conqueror only by hiding them underground, and in countless instances the sword must have slain those who knew the secret. when genghis khan swept across russia with his hordes of savage mongols towns and cities were blotted out as by fire, and doubtless those of the slaughtered population who had gold and precious stones buried them and there they still await the treasure seeker. what was happening everywhere during the ruthless ages of conquest and spoliation[ ] is indicated by this bit of narrative told by a native banker of india to w. forbes mitchell, author of "reminiscences of the great mutiny": "you know how anxious the late maharajah scindia was to get back the fortress of gwalior, but very few knew the real cause prompting him. that was a concealed horde of sixty _crores_ (sixty millions sterling) of rupees in certain vaults within the fortress, over which british sentinels had been walking for thirty years, never suspecting the wealth hidden under their feet. long before the british government restored the fortress to the maharajah everyone who knew the entrance to the vaults was dead except one man and he was extremely old. although he was in good health he might have died any day. if this had happened, the treasure might have been lost to the owner forever and to the world for ages, because there was only one method of entrance and it was most cunningly concealed. on all sides, except for this series of blind passages, the vaults were surrounded by solid rock. "the maharajah was in such a situation that he must either get back his fortress or divulge the secret of the existence of the treasure to the british government, and risk losing it by confiscation. as soon as possession of the fortress was restored to him, and even before the british troops had left gwalior territory, masons were brought from benares, after being sworn to secrecy in the temple of the holy cow. they were blindfolded and driven to the place where they were to labor. there they were kept as prisoners until the hidden treasure had been examined and verified when the hole was again sealed up and the workmen were once more blindfolded and taken back to benares in the custody of an armed escort." [ ] "the pirates' own book" was published at portland, maine, , and largely reprinted from captain charles johnson's "general history of the pyrates of the new providence," etc., first edition, london, . his second edition of two volumes, published in , contained the lives of kidd and blackbeard. "the pirates' own book," while largely indebted to captain johnson's work, contains a great deal of material concerning other noted sea rogues who flourished later than . [ ] "as to clive, there was no limit to his acquisitions but his own moderation. the treasury of bengal was thrown open to him. there were piled up, after the usage of indian princes, immense masses of coin, among which might not seldom be detected the florins and byzants with which, before any european ship had turned the cape of good hope, the venetians purchased the stuffs and spices of the east. clive walked between heaps of gold and silver, crowned with rubies and diamonds, and was at liberty to help himself."--macauley. chapter ii captain kidd in fact and fiction doomed to an infamy undeserved, his name reddened with crimes he never committed, and made wildly romantic by tales of treasure which he did not bury, captain william kidd is fairly entitled to the sympathy of posterity and the apologies of all the ballad-makers and alleged historians who have obscured the facts in a cloud of fable. for two centuries his grisly phantom has stalked through the legends and literature of the black flag as the king of pirates and the most industrious depositor of ill-gotten gold and jewels that ever wielded pick and shovel. his reputation is simply prodigious, his name has frightened children wherever english is spoken, and the kidd tradition, or myth, is still potent to send treasure-seekers exploring and excavating almost every beach, cove, and headland between nova scotia and the gulf of mexico. fate has played the strangest tricks imaginable with the memory of this seventeenth century seafarer who never cut a throat or made a victim walk the plank, who was no more than a third or fourth rate pirate in an era when this interesting profession was in its heyday, and who was hanged at execution dock for the excessively unromantic crime of cracking the skull of his gunner with a wooden bucket. ====================================================================== [illustration: captain kidd burying his bible.] carousing at old calabar river. (from _the pirates' own book_.) ====================================================================== as for the riches of captain kidd, the original documents in his case, preserved among the state papers of the public record office in london, relate with much detail what booty he had and what he did with it. alas, they reveal the futility of the searches after the stout sea-chest buried above high water mark. the only authentic kidd treasure was dug up and inventoried more than two hundred years ago, nor has the slightest clue to any other been found since then. these curious documents, faded and sometimes tattered, invite the reader to thresh out his own conclusions as to how great a scoundrel kidd really was, and how far he was a scapegoat who had to be hanged to clear the fair names of those noble lords in high places who were partners and promoters of that most unlucky sea venture in which kidd, sent out to catch pirates, was said to have turned amateur pirate himself rather than sail home empty-handed. certain it is that these words of the immortal ballad are cruelly, grotesquely unjust: i made a solemn vow, when i sail'd, when i sail'd, i made a solemn vow when i sail'd. i made a solemn vow, to god i would not bow, nor myself a prayer allow, as i sail'd. i'd a bible in my hand, when i sail'd, when i sail'd, i'd a bible in my hand when i sail'd. i'd a bible in my hand, by my father's great command, and i sunk it in the sand when i sail'd. in english fiction there are three treasure stories of surpassing merit for ingenious contrivance and convincing illusion. these are stevenson's "treasure island"; poe's "gold bug"; and washington irving's "wolfert webber." differing widely in plot and literary treatment, each peculiar to the genius of its author, they are blood kin, sprung from a common ancestor, namely, the kidd legend. why this half-hearted pirate who was neither red-handed nor of heroic dimensions even in his badness, should have inspired more romantic fiction than any other character in american history is past all explaining. strangely enough, no more than a generation or two after kidd's sorry remnants were swinging in chains for the birds to pick at, there began to cluster around his memory the folk-lore and superstitions colored by the supernatural which had been long current in many lands in respect of buried treasure. it was a kind of diabolism which still survives in many a corner of the atlantic coast where tales of kidd are told. irving took these legends as he heard them from the long-winded ancients of his own acquaintance and wove them into delightfully entertaining fiction with a proper seasoning of the ghostly and the uncanny. his formidable hero is an old pirate with a sea chest, aforetime one of kidd's rogues, who appears at the dutch tavern near corlear's hook, and there awaits tidings of his shipmates and the hidden treasure. it is well known that stevenson employed a strikingly similar character and setting to get "treasure island" under way in the opening chapter. as a literary coincidence, a comparison of these pieces of fiction is of curious interest. the similarity is to be explained on the ground that both authors made use of the same material whose ground-work was the kidd legend in its various forms as it has been commonly circulated. stevenson confessed in his preface: "it is my debt to washington irving that exercises my conscience, and justly so, for i believe plagiarism was rarely carried farther. i chanced to pick up the 'tales of a traveler' some years ago, with a view to an anthology of prose narrative, and the book flew up and struck me: billy bones, his chest, the company in the parlor, the whole inner spirit and a good deal of the material detail of my first chapters--all were there, all were the property of washington irving. but i had no guess of it then as i sat writing by the fireside, in what seemed the springtides of a somewhat pedestrian fancy; nor yet day by day, after lunch, as i read aloud my morning's work to the family. it seemed to me original as sin; it seemed to belong to me like my right eye." after the opening scenes the two stories veer off on diverging tacks, the plot of stevenson moving briskly along to the treasure voyage with no inclusion of the supernatural features of the kidd tradition. irving, however, narrates at a leisurely pace all the gossip and legend that were rife concerning kidd in the manhattan of the worthy knickerbockers. and he could stock a treasure chest as cleverly as stevenson, for when wolfert webber dreamed that he had discovered an immense treasure in the center of his garden, "at every stroke of the spade he laid bare a golden ingot; diamond crosses sparkled out of the dust; bags of money turned up their bellies, corpulent with pieces of eight, or venerable doubloons; and chests, wedged close with moidores, ducats, and pistareens, yawned before his ravished eyes and vomited forth their glittering contents." the warp and woof of "wolfert webber" is the still persistent legend that kidd buried treasure near the highlands of the lower hudson, or that his ship, the _quedah merchant_, was fetched from san domingo by his men after he left her and they sailed her into the hudson and there scuttled the vessel, scattering ashore and dividing a vast amount of plunder, some of which was hidden nearby. many years ago a pamphlet was published, purporting to be true, which was entitled, "an account of some of the traditions and experiments respecting captain kidd's piratical vessel." in this it was soberly asserted that kidd in the _quedah merchant_ was chased into the north river by an english man-of-war, and finding himself cornered he and his crew took to the boats with what treasure they could carry, after setting fire to the ship, and fled up the hudson, thence footing it through the wilderness to boston. the sunken ship was searched for from time to time, and the explorers were no doubt assisted by another pamphlet published early in the nineteenth century which proclaimed itself as: "a wonderful mesmeric revelation, giving an account of the discovery and description of a sunken vessel, near caldwell's landing, supposed to be that of the pirate kidd; including an account of his character and death, at a distance of nearly three hundred miles from the place." this psychic information came from a woman by the name of chester living in lynn, mass., who swore she had never heard of the sunken treasure ship until while in a trance she beheld its shattered timbers covered with sand, and "bars of massive gold, heaps of silver coin, and precious jewels including many large and brilliant diamonds. the jewels had been enclosed in shot bags of stout canvas. there were also gold watches, like duck's eggs in a pond of water, and the wonderfully preserved remains of a very beautiful woman, with a necklace of diamonds around her neck." as irving takes pains to indicate, the basis of the legend of the sunken pirate ship came not from kidd but from another freebooter who flourished at the same time. says peechy prauw, daring to hold converse with the old buccaneer in the tavern, "kidd never did bury money up the hudson, nor indeed in any of those parts, though many affirmed such to be the fact. it was bradish and others of the buccaneers who had buried money; some said in turtle bay, others on long island, others in the neighborhood of hell-gate." this bradish was caught by governor bellomont and sent to england where he was hanged at execution dock. he had begun his career of crime afloat as boatswain of a ship called the _adventure_ (not kidd's vessel). while on a voyage from london to borneo he helped other mutineers to take the vessel from her skipper and go a-cruising as gentlemen of fortune. they split up forty thousand dollars of specie found on board, snapped up a few merchantmen to fatten their dividends, and at length came to the american coast and touched at long island. the _adventure_ ship was abandoned, and there is reason to think that she was taken possession of by the crew of the purchased sloop, who worked her around to new york and beached and sunk her after stripping her of fittings and gear. bradish and his crew also cruised along the sound for some time in their small craft, landing and buying supplies at several places, until nineteen of them were caught and taken to boston. that there should have been some confusion of facts relating to kidd and bradish is not at all improbable. among the dutch of new amsterdam was to be found that world-wide superstition of the ghostly guardians of buried treasure, and irving interpolates the distressful experience of cobus quackenbos "who dug for a whole night and met with incredible difficulty, for as fast as he threw one shovelful of earth out of the hole, two were thrown in by invisible hands. he succeeded so far, however, as to uncover an iron chest, when there was a terrible roaring, ramping, and raging of uncouth figures about the hole, and at length a shower of blows, dealt by invisible cudgels, fairly belabored him off of the forbidden ground. this cobus quackenbos had declared on his death bed, so that there could not be any doubt of it. he was a man that had devoted many years of his life to money-digging, and it was thought would have ultimately succeeded, had he not died recently of a brain fever in the almshouse." a story built around the kidd tradition but of a wholly different kind is that masterpiece of curious deductive analysis, "the gold bug," with its cryptogram and elaborate mystification. in making use of an historical character to serve the ends of fiction it is customary to make him move among the episodes of the story with some regard for the probabilities. for example, it would hardly do to have napoleon win the battle of waterloo as the hero of a novel. what really happened and what the author imagines might have happened must be dovetailed with an eye to avoid contradicting the known facts. like almost everyone else, however, poe took the most reckless liberties with the career of poor captain kidd and his buried treasure and cared not a rap for historical evidence to the contrary. although stevenson is ready to admit that his "skeleton is conveyed from poe," the author of "treasure island" is not wholly fair to himself. the tradition that secretive pirates were wont to knock a shipmate or two on the head as a feature of the program of burying treasure is as old as the hills. the purpose was either to get rid of the witnesses who had helped dig the hole, or to cause the spot to be properly haunted by ghosts as an additional precaution against the discovery of the hoard. what stevenson "conveyed" from poe was the employment of a skeleton to indicate the bearings and location of the treasure, although, to be accurate, it was a skull that figured in "the gold bug." otherwise, in the discovery of the remains of slain pirates, both were using a stock incident of buried treasure lore most generally fastened upon the unfortunate captain kidd. most of the treasure legends of the atlantic coast are fable and moonshine, with no more foundation than what somebody heard from his grandfather who may have dreamed that captain kidd or blackbeard once landed in a nearby cove. the treasure seeker needs no evidence, however, and with him "faith is the substance of things hoped for." there is a marsh of the penobscot river, a few miles inland from the bay of that name, which has been indefatigably explored for more than a century. a native of a statistical turn of mind not long ago expressed himself in this common-sense manner: "thousands of tons of soil have been shovelled over time and again. i figure that these treasure hunters have handled enough earth in turning up codlead marsh to build embankments and fill cuts for a railroad grade twenty miles long. in other words, if these lunatics that have tried to find kidd's money had hired out with railroad contractors, they could have earned thirty thousand dollars at regular day wages instead of the few battered old coins discovered in which started all this terrible waste of energy." the most convincing evidence of the existence of a pirates' rendezvous and hoard has been found on oak island, nova scotia. in fact, this is the true treasure story, _par excellence_, of the whole atlantic coast, with sufficient mystery to give it precisely the proper flavor. local tradition has long credited captain kidd with having been responsible for the indubitable remains of piratical activity, but it has been proved that kidd went nowhere near nova scotia after he came sailing home from the east indies, and the industrious visitors to oak island are therefore unknown to history. the island has a sheltered haven called mahone bay, snugly secluded from the atlantic, with deep water, and a century ago the region was wild and unsettled. near the head of the bay is a small cove which was visited in the year of by three young men named smith, macginnis, and vaughan who drew their canoes ashore and explored at random the noble groves of oaks. soon they came to a spot whose peculiar appearance aroused their curiosity. the ground had been cleared many years before; this was indicated by the second growth of trees and the kind of vegetation which is foreign to the primeval condition of the soil. in the center of the little clearing was a huge oak whose bark was gashed with markings made by an axe. one of the stout lower branches had been sawn off at some distance from the trunk and to this natural derrick-arm had been attached a heavy block and tackle as shown by the furrowed scar in the bark. directly beneath this was a perceptible circular depression of the turf, perhaps a dozen feet in diameter. the three young men were curious, and made further investigation. the tide chanced to be uncommonly low, and while ranging along the beach of the cove they discovered a huge iron ring-bolt fastened to a rock which was invisible at ordinary low water. they reasonably surmised that this had been a mooring place in days gone by. not far distant a boatswain's whistle of an ancient pattern and a copper coin bearing the date of were picked up. the trio scented pirates' treasure and shortly returned to the cove to dig in the clearing hard by the great oak. it was soon found that they were excavating in a clearly defined shaft, the walls of which were of the solid, undisturbed earth in which the cleavage of other picks and shovels could be distinguished. the soil within the shaft was much looser and easily removed. ten feet below the surface they came to a covering of heavy oak plank which was ripped out with much difficulty. at a depth of twenty feet another layer of planking was uncovered, and digging ten feet deeper, a third horizontal bulkhead of timber was laid bare. the excavation was now thirty feet down, and the three men had done all they could without a larger force, hoisting machinery, and other equipment. the natives of mahone bay, however, were singularly reluctant to aid the enterprise. hair-raising stories were afloat of ghostly guardians, of strange cries, of unearthly fires that flickered along the cove, and all that sort of thing. superstition effectually fortified the place, and those bold spirits, smith, macginnis, and vaughan were forced to abandon their task for lack of reinforcements. half a dozen years later a young physician of truro, dr. lynds, visited oak island, having got wind of the treasure story, and talked with the three men aforesaid. he took their report seriously, made an investigation of his own, and straightway organized a company backed by considerable capital. prominent persons of truro and the neighborhood were among the investors, including colonel robert archibald, captain david archibald, and sheriff harris. a gang of laborers was mustered at the cove, and the dirt began to fly. the shaft was opened to a depth of ninety-five feet, and, as before, some kind of covering, or significant traces thereof, was disclosed every ten feet or so. one layer was of charcoal spread over a matting of a substance resembling cocoa fibre, while another was of putty, some of which was used in glazing the windows of a house then building on the nearby coast. ninety feet below the surface, the laborers found a large flat stone or quarried slab, three feet long and sixteen inches wide, upon which was chiselled the traces of an inscription. this stone was used in the jamb of a fireplace of a new house belonging to smith, and was later taken to halifax in the hope of having the mysterious inscription deciphered. one wise man declared that the letters read, "ten feet below two million pounds lie buried," but this verdict was mostly guess-work. the stone is still in halifax, where it was used for beating leather in a book-binder's shop until the inscription had been worn away. when the workmen were down ninety-five feet, they came to a wooden platform covering the shaft. until then the hole had been clear of water, but overnight it filled within twenty-five feet of the top. persistent efforts were made to bail out the flood but with such poor success that the shaft was abandoned and another sunk nearby, the plan being to tunnel into the first pit and thereby drain it and get at the treasure. the second shaft was driven to a depth of a hundred and ten feet, but while the tunnel was in progress the water broke through and made the laborers flee for their lives. the company had spent all its money, and the results were so discouraging that the work was abandoned. it was not until that another attempt was made to fathom the meaning of the extraordinary mystery of oak island. dr. lynds and vaughan were still alive and their narratives inspired the organization of another treasure-seeking company. vaughan easily found the old "money pit" as it was called, and the original shaft was opened and cleared to a depth of eighty-six feet when an inrush of water stopped the undertaking. again the work ceased for lack of adequate pumping machinery, and it was decided to use a boring apparatus such as was employed in prospecting for coal. a platform was rigged in the old shaft, and the large auger bit its way in a manner described by the manager of the enterprise as follows: "the platform was struck at ninety-eight feet, just as the old diggers found it. after going through this platform, which was five inches thick and proved to be of spruce, the auger dropped twelve inches and then went through four inches of oak; then it went through twenty-two inches of metal in pieces, but the auger failed to take any of it except three links resembling an ancient watch-chain. it then went through eight inches of oak, which was thought to be the bottom of the first box and the top of the next; then through twenty-two inches of metal the same as before; then four inches of oak and six inches of spruce, then into clay seven feet without striking anything. in the next boring, the platform was struck as before at ninety-eight feet; passing through this, the auger fell about eighteen inches, and came in contact with, as supposed, the side of a cask. the flat chisel revolving close to the side of the cask gave it a jerk and irregular motion. on withdrawing the auger several splinters of oak, such as might come from the side of an oak stave, and a small quantity of a brown fibrous substance resembling the husk of a cocoa-nut, were brought up. the distance between the upper and lower platforms was found to be six feet." in the summer of a third shaft was sunk just to the west of the money pit, but this also filled with water which was discovered to be salt and effected by the rise and fall of the tide in the cove. it was reasoned that if a natural inlet existed, those who had buried the treasure must have encountered the inflow which would have made their undertaking impossible. therefore the pirates must have driven some kind of a tunnel or passage from the cove with the object of flooding out any subsequent intruders. search was made along the beach, and near where the ring-bolt was fastened in the rock a bed of the brown, fibrous material was uncovered and beneath it a mass of small rock unlike the surrounding sand and gravel. it was decided to build a coffer-dam around this place which appeared to be a concealed entrance to a tunnel connecting the cove with the money pit. in removing the rock, a series of well-constructed drains was found, extending from a common center, and fashioned of carefully laid stone. before the coffer-dam was finished, it was overflowed by a very high tide and collapsed under pressure. the explorers did not rebuild it but set to work sinking a shaft which was intended to cut into this tunnel and dam the inlet from the cove. one failure, however, followed on the heels of another, and shaft after shaft was dug only to be caved in or filled by salt water. in one of these was found an oak plank, several pieces of timber bearing the marks of tools, and many hewn chips. a powerful pumping engine was installed, timber cribbing put into the bottom of the shafts, and a vast amount of clay dumped on the beach in an effort to block up the inlet of the sea-water tunnel. baffled in spite of all this exertion, the treasure-seekers spent their money and had to quit empty-handed. forty years passed, and the crumbling earth almost filled the numerous and costly excavations and the grass grew green under the sentinel oaks. then, in , the cove was once more astir with boats and the shore populous with toilers. the old records had been overhauled and their evidence was so alluring that fresh capital was subscribed and many shares eagerly snapped up in truro, halifax and elsewhere. the promoters became convinced that former attempts had failed because of crude appliances and insufficient engineering skill, and this time the treasure was sought in up-to-date fashion. almost twenty deep shafts were dug, one after the other, in a ring about the money pit, and tunnels driven in a net-work. it was the purpose of the engineers to intercept the underground channel and also to drain the pirates' excavation. hundreds of pounds of dynamite were used and thousands of feet of heavy timber. further traces of the work of the ancient contrivers of this elaborate hiding-place were discovered, but the funds of the company were exhausted before the secret of the money pit could be revealed. considerable boring was done under the direction of the manager, captain welling. the results confirmed the previous disclosures achieved by the auger. at a depth of one hundred and twenty-six feet, captain welling's crew drilled through oak wood, and struck a piece of iron past which they could not drive the encasing pipe. a smaller auger was then used and at one hundred and fifty-three feet cement was found of a thickness of seven inches, covering another layer of oak. beyond was some soft metal, and the drill brought to the surface a small fragment of sheepskin parchment upon which was written in ink the syllable, "vi" or "wi." other curious samples, wood and iron, were fished up, but the "soft metal," presumed to be gold or silver, refused to cling to the auger. it was of course taken for granted that the various layers of oak planking and spruce were chests containing the treasure. during the various borings, seven different chests or casks, or whatever they may be, have been encountered. it seems incredible that any pirates or buccaneers known to the american coast should have been at such prodigious pains to conceal their plunder as to dig a hole a good deal more than a hundred feet deep, connect it with the sea by an underground passage, and safeguard it by many layers of timber, cement, and other material. possibly some of the famous freebooters of the spanish main in henry morgan's time might have achieved such a task, but nova scotia was a coast unknown to them and thousands of miles from their track. poor kidd had neither the men, the treasure, nor the opportunity to make such a memorial of his career as this. quite recently a new company was formed to grapple with the secret of oak island which has already swallowed at least a hundred thousand dollars in labor and machinery. for more than a century, sane, hard-headed nova scotians have tried to reach the bottom of the "money pit," and as an attractive speculation it has no rival in the field of treasure-seeking. there may be documents somewhere in existence, a chart or memorandum mouldering in a sea chest in some attic or cellar of france, england, or spain, that will furnish the key to this rarely picturesque and tantalizing puzzle. the unbeliever has only to go to nova scotia in the summer time and seek out oak island, which is reached by way of the town of chester, to find the deeply pitted area of the treasure hunt, and very probably engines and workmen busy at the fine old game of digging for pirates' gold. let us now give the real captain kidd his due, painting him no blacker than the facts warrant, and at the same time uncover the true story of his treasure, which is the plum in the pudding. he had been a merchant shipmaster of brave and honorable repute in an age when every deep-water voyage was a hazard of privateers and freebooters of all flags, or none at all. in one stout square-rigger after another, well armed and heavily manned, he had sailed out of the port of new york, in which he dwelt as early as . he had a comfortable, even prosperous home in liberty street, was married to a widow of good family, and was highly thought of by the dutch and english merchants of the town. a shrewd trader who made money for his owners, he was also a fighting seaman of such proven mettle that he was given command of privateers which cruised along the coasts of the colonies and harried the french in the west indies. his excellent reputation and character are attested by official documents. in the records of the proceedings of the provincial assembly of new york is the following entry under date of april , : "gabriel monville, esq. and thomas willet, esq. are appointed to attend the house of representatives and acquaint them of the many good services done to this province by captain william kidd in his attending here with his vessels before his excellency's[ ] arrival, and that it would be acceptable to his excellency and this board that they consider of some suitable reward to him for his good services." this indicates that captain kidd had been in command of a small squadron engaged in protecting the commerce of the colony. on may , the following was adopted by the house of representatives: "ordered, that his excellency be addressed unto, to order the receiver general to pay to captain william kidd, one hundred and fifty pounds current money of this province, as a suitable reward for the many good services done to this province." in june, only a month after this, captain kidd was asked by the colony of massachusetts to punish the pirates who were pestering the shipping of boston and salem. the negotiations were conducted in this wise: _by the governor and council._ proposals offered to captain kidd and captain walkington to encourage their going forth in their majesties' service to suppress an enemy privateer now upon this coast. that they have liberty to beat up drums for forty men apiece to go forth on this present expedition, not taking any children or servants without their parents' or masters' consent. a list of the names of such as go in the said vessels to be presented to the governor before their departure. that they cruise upon the coast for the space of ten or fifteen days in search of the said privateer, and then come in again and land the men supplied them from hence. that what provisions shall be expended within the said time, for so many men as are in both the said vessels, be made good to them on their return, in case they take no purchase;[ ] but if they shall take the privateer, or any other vessels, then only a proportion of provisions for so many men as they take in here. if any of our men happen to be wounded in the engagement with the privateer, that they be cured at the public charge. that the men supplied from hence be proportionable sharers with the other men belonging to said vessels, of all purchase that shall be taken. besides the promise of a gratuity to the captains, twenty pounds apiece in money. boston, june th, . to this thrifty set of terms, captain kidd made reply: "_imprimis_, to have forty men, with their arms, provisions, and ammunition. "_ dly_. all the men that shall be wounded, which have been put in by the country, shall be put on shore, and the country to take care of them. and if so fortunate as to take the pirate and her prizes, then to bring them to boston. "_ rdly_. for myself, to have one hundred pounds in money; thirty pounds thereof to be paid down, the rest upon my return to boston; and if we bring in said ship and her prizes, then the same to be divided amongst our men. "_ thly_. the provisions put on board must be ten barrels pork and beef, ten barrels of flour, two hogsheads of peas, and one barrel of gunpowder for the great guns. "_ thly_. that i will cruise on the coast for ten days' time; and if so that he is gone off the coast, that i cannot hear of him, i will then, at my return, take care and set what men on shore that i have had, and are willing to leave me or the ship." these records serve to show in what esteem captain kidd was held by the highest officials of the colonies. such men as he were sailing out of boston, new york, and salem to trade in uncharted seas on remote coasts and fight their way home again with rich cargoes. they hammered out the beginnings of a mighty commerce for the new world and created, by the stern stress of circumstances, as fine a race of seamen as ever filled cabin and forecastle. ====================================================================== [illustration: the idle apprentice goes to sea. (from hogarth's series, "industry and idleness.")] on the shore of this reach of the thames, at tilbury, is shown a gibbeted pirate hanging in chains, just as it befell captain william kidd. ====================================================================== in the year , captain kidd chanced to be anchored in london port in his brigantine _antigoa_, busy with loading merchandise and shipping a crew for the return voyage across the atlantic. now, richard coote, earl of bellomont, an ambitious and energetic irishman, had just then been appointed royal governor of the colonies of new york and massachusetts, and he was particularly bent on suppressing the swarm of pirates who infested the american coast and waxed rich on the english commerce of the indian ocean. their booty was carried to rhode island, new york, and boston, even from far-away madagascar, and many a colonial merchant, outwardly the pattern of respectability, was secretly trafficking in this plunder. "i send you, my lord, to new york," said king william iii to bellomont, "because an honest and intrepid man is wanted to put these abuses down, and because i believe you to be such a man." thereupon bellomont asked for a frigate to send in chase of the bold sea rogues, but the king referred him to the lords of the admiralty who discovered sundry obstacles bound in red tape, the fact being that official england was at all times singularly indifferent, or covertly hostile, toward the maritime commerce of her american colonies. being denied a man-of-war, bellomont conceived the plan of privately equipping an armed ship as a syndicate enterprise without cost to the government. the promoters were to divide the swag captured from pirates as dividends on their investment. the enterprise was an alluring one, and six thousand pounds sterling were subscribed by bellomont and his friends, including such illustrious personages as somers, the lord chancellor and leader of the whig party; the earl of shrewsbury, the earl of orford, first lord of the admiralty; the earl of romney, and sir richard harrison, a wealthy merchant. according to bishop burnet, it was the king who "proposed managing it by a private enterprise, and said he would lay down three thousand pounds himself, and recommended it to his ministers to find out the refit. in compliance with this, the lord somers, the earl of orford, romney, bellomont and others, contributed the whole expense, for the king excused himself by reason of other accidents, and did not advance the sum he had promised." macauley, discussing in his "history of england" the famous scandal which later involved these partners of kidd, defends them in this spirited fashion: "the worst that could be imputed even to bellomont, who had drawn in all the rest, was that he had been led into a fault by his ardent zeal for the public service, and by the generosity of a nature as little prone to suspect as to devise villainies. his friends in england might surely be pardoned for giving credit to his recommendations. it is highly probable that the motive which induced some of them to aid his designs was a genuine public spirit. but if we suppose them to have had a view to gain, it would be legitimate gain. their conduct was the very opposite of corrupt. not only had they taken no money. they had disbursed money largely, and had disbursed it with the certainty that they should never be reimbursed unless the outlay proved beneficial to the public." it would be easy to pick flaws in this argument. bellomont's partners, no matter how public spirited, hoped to reimburse themselves, and something over, as receivers of stolen goods. it was a dashing speculation, characteristic of its century, and neither better nor worse than the privateering of that time. what raised the subsequent row in parliament and made of kidd a political issue and a party scapegoat, was the fact that his commission was given under the great seal of england, thus stamping a private business with the public sanction of his majesty's government. for this somers, as lord chancellor, was responsible, and it later became a difficult transaction for his partisans to defend. there was in london, at that time, one robert livingston, founder of a family long notable in the colony and state of new york, a man of large property and solid station. he was asked to recommend a shipmaster fitted for the task in hand and named captain kidd, who was reluctant to accept. his circumstances were prosperous, he had a home and family in new york, and he was by no means anxious to go roving after pirates who were pretty certain to fight for their necks. his consent was won by the promise of a share of the profits (kidd was a canny scot by birth) and by the offer of livingston to be his security and his partner in the venture. an elaborate contract was drawn up with the title of "articles of agreement made this tenth day of october in the year of our lord, , between the right honorable richard, earl of bellomont, of the one part, and robert livingston esq., and captain william kidd of the other part." in the first article, "the said earl of bellomont doth covenant and agree at his proper charge to procure from the king's majesty or from the lords commissioners of the admiralty, as the case may require, one or more commissions impowering him, the said captain kidd, to act against the king's enemies, and to take prizes from them as a private man-of-war, in the usual manner, and also to fight with, conquer and subdue pyrates, and to take them and their goods, _with such large and beneficial powers and clauses in such commissions as may be most proper and effectual in such cases_." bellomont agreed to pay four-fifths of the cost of the ship, with its furnishings and provisions, kidd and livingston to contribute the remainder, "in pursuance of which bellomont was to pay down pounds on or before the th of november, in order to the speedy buying of said ship." the earl agreed to pay such further sums as should "complete and make up the said four parts of five of the charge of the said ship's apparel, furniture, and victualling, within seven weeks after date of the agreement," and kidd and livingston bound themselves to do likewise in respect of their fifth part of the expense. other articles of the agreement read: " . the said captain kidd doth covenant and agree to procure and take with him on board of the said ship, one hundred mariners, or seamen, or thereabout, and to make what reasonable and convenient speed he can to set out to sea with the said ship, and to sail to such parts and places where he may meet with the said pyrates, and to use his utmost endeavor to meet with, subdue, and conquer the said pyrates, and to take from them their goods, merchandise, and treasures; also to take what prizes he can from the king's enemies, and forthwith to make the best of his way to boston in new england, and that without touching at any other port or harbor whatsoever, or without breaking bulk, or diminishing any part of what he shall so take or obtain; (of which he shall make oath in case the same is desired by the said earl of bellomont), and there to deliver the same into the hands or possession of the said earl. " . the said captain kidd doth agree that the contract and bargain which he will make with the said ship's crew shall be no purchase,[ ] no pay, and not otherwise; and that the share and proportion which his said crew shall, by such contract, have of such prizes, goods, merchandise and treasure, as he shall take as prize, or from any pyrates, shall not at the most exceed a fourth part of the same, and shall be less than a fourth part, in case the same may reasonably and conveniently be agreed upon. " . robert livingston esq. and captain william kidd agree that if they catch no pyrates, they will refund to the said earl of bellomont all the money advanced by him on or before march th, , and they will keep the said ship." article allotted the captured goods and treasures, after deducting no more than one-fourth for the crew. the remainder was to be divided into five equal parts, of which bellomont was to receive four parts, leaving a fifth to be shared between kidd and livingston. the stake of captain kidd was therefore to be three one-fortieths of the whole, or seven and one-half per cent. of the booty. it is apparent from these singular articles of agreement that robert livingston, in the role of kidd's financial backer, was willing to run boldly speculative chances of success, and was also confident that a rich crop of "pyrates" could be caught for the seeking. if kidd should sail home empty-handed, then these two partners stood to lose a large amount, by virtue of the contract which provided that bellomont and his partners must be reimbursed for their outlay, less the value of the ship itself. livingston also gave bonds in the sum of ten thousand pounds that kidd would be faithful to his trust and obedient to his orders, which in itself is sufficient to show that this shipmaster was a man of the best intentions, and of thoroughly proven worth. captain kidd's privateering commission was issued by the high court of admiralty on december , , and licensed and authorized him to "set forth in war-like manner in the said ship called the _adventure galley_, under his own command, and therewith, by force of arms, to apprehend, seize, and take the ships, vessels, and goods belonging to the french king and his subjects, or inhabitants within the dominion of the said french king, and such other ships, vessels, and goods as are or shall be liable to confiscation," etc. this document was of the usual tenor, but in addition, captain kidd was granted a special royal commission, under the great seal, which is given herewith because it so intimately concerned the later fortunes of his noble partners: william rex. william the third, by the grace of god, king of england, scotland, france, and ireland, defender of the faith, etc. to our trusty and well beloved captain william kidd, commander of the ship _adventure galley_, or to any other, the commander of the same for the time being, greeting: whereas, we are informed that captain thomas tew, john ireland, capt. thomas wake, and capt. william maze, and other subjects, natives, or inhabitants of new york and elsewhere, in our plantations in america, have associated themselves with divers other wicked and ill-disposed persons, and do, against the law of nations, commit many and great piracies, robberies, and depredations on the seas upon the parts of america and in other parts, to the great hindrance and discouragement of trade and navigation, and to the great danger and hurt of our loving subjects, our allies, and of all others navigating the seas upon their lawful occasions, now, know ye, that we being desirous to prevent the aforesaid mischief, and as much as in us lies, to bring the said pirates, freebooters, and sea rovers to justice, have thought fit, and do hereby give and grant to the said robert kidd (to whom our commissioners for exercising the office of lord high admiral of england have granted a commission as a private man-of-war, bearing date of the th day of december, ), and unto the commander of the said ship for the time being, and unto the officers, mariners, and others which shall be under your command, full power and authority to apprehend, seize, and take into your custody, as well the said captain tew, john ireland, capt. thomas wake, and capt. william maze, or mace, and all such pirates, freebooters, and sea rovers, being either our subjects or of other nations associated with them, which you shall meet with upon the seas or coasts of america, or upon any other seas or coasts, with all their ships and vessels, and all such merchandizes, money, goods, and wares as shall be found on board, or with them, in case they shall willingly yield themselves up, but if they will not yield without fighting, then you are by force to compel to yield. and we also require you to bring, or cause to be brought, such pirates, freebooters, or sea rovers as you shall seize, to a legal trial to the end that they may be proceeded against according to the law in such cases. and we do hereby command all our officers, ministers, and others our loving subjects whatsoever to be aiding and assisting you in the premises, and we do hereby enjoin you to keep an exact journal of your proceedings in execution of the premises, and set down the names of such pirates and of their officers and company, and the names of such ships and vessels as you shall by virtue of these presents take and seize, and the quantity of arms, ammunition, provisions, and lading of such ships, and the true value of the same, as near as you judge. and we do hereby strictly charge and command, and you will answer the contrary to your peril, that you do not, in any manner, offend or molest our friends and allies, their ships or subjects, by colour or pretense of these presents, or the authority thereof granted. _in witness_ whereof, we have caused our great seal of england to be affixed to these presents. given at our court in kensington, the th day of january, , in the seventh year of our reign. it was privately understood that the king was to receive one-tenth of the proceeds of the voyage, although this stipulation does not appear in the articles of agreement. by a subsequent grant from the crown, this understanding was publicly ratified and all money and property taken from pirates, except the king's tenth, was to be made over to the owners of the _adventure galley_, to wit, bellomont and his partners, and kidd and livingston, as they had agreed among themselves. the _adventure galley_, the ship selected for the cruise, was of tons and thirty-four guns, a powerful privateer for her day, which kidd fitted out at plymouth, england. finding difficulty in recruiting a full crew of mettlesome lads, he sailed from that port for new york in april of , with only seventy hands. while anchored in the hudson, he increased his company to men, many of them the riff-raff of the water-front, deserters, wastrels, brawlers, and broken seamen who may have sailed under the black flag aforetime. it was a desperate venture, the pay was to be in shares of the booty taken, "no prizes, no money," and sober, respectable sailors looked askance at it. kidd was impatient to make an offing. livingston and bellomont were chafing at the delay, and he had to ship what men he could find at short notice. the _adventure galley_ cruised first among the west indies, honestly in quest of "pirates, freebooters and sea rovers," and not falling in with any of these gentry, kidd took his departure for the cape of good hope and the indian ocean. this was in accordance with his instructions, for in the preamble of the articles of agreement it was stated that "certain persons did some time since depart from new england, rhode island, new york, and other parts in america and elsewhere with an intention to pyrate and to commit spoyles and depredations in the red sea and elsewhere, and to return with such riches and goods as they should get to certain places by them agreed upon, of which said persons and places the said captain kidd hath notice." this long voyage was soundly planned. madagascar was the most notorious haunt of pirates in the world. their palm-thatched villages fringed its beaches and the blue harbors sheltered many sail which sallied forth to play havoc with the precious argosies of the english, french, and dutch east india companies. kidd hoped to win both favor and fortune by ridding these populous trade routes of the perils that menaced every honest skipper. when, at length, madagascar was sighted, the _adventure galley_ was nine months from home, and not a prize had been taken. kidd was short of provisions and of money with which to purchase supplies. his crew was in a grumbling, mutinous temper, as they rammed their tarry fists into their empty pockets and stared into the empty hold. the captain quieted them with promises of dazzling spoil, and the _adventure galley_ vainly skirted the coast, only to find that some of the pirates had got wind of her coming while others were gone a-cruising. from the crew of a wrecked french ship, kidd took enough gold to buy provisions in a malabar port. this deed was hardly generous, but by virtue of his letters of marque kidd was authorized to despoil a frenchman wherever he caught him. after more futile cruising to and fro, kidd fell from grace and crossed the very tenuous line that divided privateering from piracy in his century. his first unlawful capture was a small native vessel owned by aden merchants and commanded by one parker, an englishman, the mate being a portuguese. the plunder was no more than a bale or two of pepper and coffee, and a few gold pieces. it was petty larceny committed to quiet a turbulent crew and to pay operating expenses. parker made loud outcry ashore and a little later kidd was overtaken by a vengeful portuguese man-of-war off the port of carawar. the two ships hammered each other with broad-sides and bow-chasers six hours on end, when kidd went his way with several men wounded. sundry other small craft were made to stand and deliver after this without harm to their crews, but no treasure was lifted until kidd ventured to molest the shipping of the great mogul. that fabled potentate of asia whose empire had been found by genghis khan and extended by tamerlane, and whose gorgeous palaces were at samarcand, had a mighty commerce between the red sea and china, and his rich freights also swelled the business of the english east india company. his ships were often convoyed by the english and the dutch. it was from two of these vessels that kidd took his treasure and thus achieved the brief career which rove the halter around his neck. the first of these ships of the great mogul he looted and burned, and to the second, the _quedah merchant_, he transferred his flag after forsaking the leaky, unseaworthy _adventure galley_ on the madagascar coast. out of this capture he took almost a half million dollars' worth of gold, jewels, plate, silks, and other precious merchandise of which his crew ran away with by far the greater share, leaving kidd with about one hundred thousand dollars in booty. it was charged that while on this coast kidd amicably consorted with a very notorious pirate named culliford, instead of blowing him out of the water as he properly deserved. this was the most damning feature of his indictment, and there is no doubt that he sold culliford cannon and munitions and received him in his cabin. on the other hand, kidd declared that he would have attacked the pirate but he was overpowered by his mutinous crew who caroused with culliford's rogues and were wholly out of hand. and kidd's story is lent the color of truth by the fact that ninety-five of his men deserted to join the _mocha frigate_ of culliford and sail with him under the jolly roger. it is fair to assume that if william kidd had been the successful pirate he is portrayed, his own rascals would have stayed with him in the _quedah merchant_ which was a large and splendidly armed and equipped ship of between four and five hundred tons. abandoned by two-thirds of his crew, and unable to find trustworthy men to fill their places, kidd was in sore straits and decided to sail for home and square accounts with bellomont, trusting to his powerful friends to keep him out of trouble. in the meantime, the great mogul and the english east india company had made vigorous complaint and kidd was proclaimed a pirate. the royal pardon was offered all pirates that should repent of their sins, barring kidd who was particularly excepted by name. many a villain whose hands were red with the slaughter of ships' crews was thus officially forgiven, while kidd who had killed no man barring that mutineer, the gunner, william moore, was hunted in every sea, with a price on his head. on april , , after an absence of almost two years, kidd arrived at anguilla,[ ] his first port of call in the west indies, and went ashore to buy provisions. there he learned, to his consternation, that he had been officially declared a pirate and stood in peril of his life. the people refused to have any dealings with him, and he sailed to st. thomas, and thence to curacoa where he was able to get supplies through the friendship of an english merchant of antigua, henry bolton by name, who was not hampered by scruples or fear of the authorities. under date of february , the governor of barbadoes had written to mr. vernon, secretary of the lords of the council of trade and plantations in london: "i received yours of the rd. of november in relation to the apprehending your notorious pyrat kidd. he has not been heard of in these seas of late, nor do i believe he will think it safe to venture himself here, where his villainies are so well known; but if he does, all the dilligence and application to find him out and seize him shall be used on my part that can be, with the assistance of a heavy, crazy vessell, miscalled a cruizer, that is ordered to attend upon me." the first news of kidd was received from the officials of the island of nevis who wrote secretary vernon on may , , as follows: your letter of rd, november last in relation to that notorious pirate capt. kidd came safe to our hands ... have sent copies thereof to the lieut, or deputy governor of each respective island under this government: since which we have had this following acct. of the said kidd: that he lately came from mallagascoe,[ ] in a large gennowese vessell of about foure hundred tons; thirty guns mounted and eighty men. and in his way from those partes his men mutiny 'd and thirty of them lost their lives: that his vessell is very leaky; and that several of his men have deserted him soe that he has not above five and twenty or thirty hands on board. about twenty days since he landed at anguilla ... where he tarry'd about foure hours; but being refused succour sailed thence for the island of st. thomas ... and anchored off that harbour three dayes, in which time he treated with them alsoe for relief; but the governor absolutely denying him, he bore away further to leeward (as tis believ'd) for porto rico or crabb island. upon which advice we forthwith ordered his majestie's ship _queensborough_, now attending this government, capt. rupert billingsly, commander, to make the best of his way after him. and in case he met with his men, vessell and effects, to bring them upp hither. that no imbezzlem't may be made, but that they may be secured until we have given you advice thereof, and his majestie's pleasure relating thereto can be knowne, we shall by the first conveyance transmitt ye like account of him to the governor of jamaica. so that if he goes farther to leeward due care may be taken to secure him there. as for those men who have deserted him, we have taken all possible care to apprehend them, especially if they come within the districts of this government, and hope on return of his majestie's frigate we shall be able to give you a more ample acct. hereof. we are with all due respect: rt. hon'ble, your most obedt. humble servants. kidd dodged all this hue and cry and was mightily anxious to get in touch with bellomont without loss of time. he bought at curacoa, through the accommodating henry bolton, a yankee sloop called the _san antonio_ and transferred his treasure and part of his crew to her. the _quedah merchant_ he convoyed as far as hispaniola, now san domingo, and hid her in a small harbor with considerable cargo, in charge of a handful of his men under direction of bolton. then warily and of an uneasy mind, captain kidd steered his sloop for the american coast and first touched at the fishing hamlet of lewes at the mouth of delaware bay. all legend to the contrary, he made no calls along the carolinas and virginia to bury treasure. the testimony of kidd's crew and passengers cannot be demolished on this score, besides which he expected to come to terms with bellomont and adjust his affairs within the law, so there was no sane reason for his stopping to hide his valuables. the first episode that smacks in the least of buried treasure occurred while the sloop was anchored off lewes. there had come from the east indies as a passenger one james gillam, pirate by profession, and he wished no dealings with the authorities. he therefore sent ashore in delaware bay his sea chest which we may presume contained his private store of stolen gold. gillam and his chest bob up in the letters of bellomont, but for the present let this reference suffice, as covered by the statement of edward davis of london, mariner, made during the proceedings against kidd in boston: that in or about the month of november, , the examinant came boatswain of the ship _fidelia_, tempest rogers, commander, bound on a trading voyage for india, and in the month of july following arrived at the island of madagascar and after having been there about five weeks the ship sailed thence and left this examinant in the island, and being desirous to get off, enter'd himself on board the ship whereof capt. kidd was commander to worke for his passage, and accordingly came with him in the sd. ship to hispaniola, and from thence in the sloop _antonio_ to this place. and that upon their arrival at the hoor kills, in delaware bay, there was a chest belonging to one james gillam put ashore there and at gard'ner's island, there was several chests and packages put out of capt. kidd's sloop into a sloop belonging to new yorke. he knows not the quantity, nor anything sent on shore at the sd. island nor doth he know that anything was put on shore at any island or place in this country, only two guns of ... weight apeace or thereabout at block island. signed, (his mark) edward (e* d.) davis. in delaware bay kidd bought stores, and five of the people of lewes were thrown into jail by the pennsylvania authorities for having traded with him. thence he sailed for long island sound, entered it from the eastward end, and made for new york, cautiously anchoring in oyster bay, nowadays sedulously avoided by malefactors of great wealth. it was his purpose to open negotiations with bellomont at long range, holding his treasure as an inducement for a pardon. from oyster bay he sent a letter to a lawyer in new york, james emmot who had before then defended pirates, and also a message to his wife. emmot was asked to serve as a go-between, and he hastened to join kidd on the sloop, explaining that bellomont was in boston. thereupon the _antonio_ weighed anchor and sailed westward as far as narragansett bay where emmot landed and went overland to find bellomont. [ ] governor henry sloughter. [ ] prizes. [ ] prizes. [ ] anguilla, or snake island, is a small island of the leeward group of the west indies, considerably east of porto rico, and near st. martin. it belongs to england. [ ] madagascar. chapter iii captain kidd, his treasure[ ] "you captains brave and bold, hear our cries, hear our cries, you captains brave and bold, hear our cries. you captains brave and bold, though you seem uncontrolled, don't for the sake of gold lose your souls, lose your souls, don't for the sake of gold lose your souls." (_from the old kidd ballad._) the negotiations between kidd and the earl of bellomont were no more creditable to the royal governor than to the alleged pirate. already the noble partners in england were bombarded with awkward questions concerning the luckless enterprise, and bellomont, anxious to clear himself and his friends, was for getting hold of kidd and putting him in boston jail at the earliest possible moment. he dared not reveal the true status of affairs to kidd by means of correspondence lest that wary bird escape him, and he therefore tried to coax him nearer in a letter sent back in care of emmot, that experienced legal adviser of pirates in distress. this letter of bellomont was dated june , , and had this to say: _captain kidd:_ mr. emmot came to me last tuesday night late, telling me he came from you, but was shy of telling me where he parted with you, nor did i press him to it. he told me you came to oyster bay in nassau island and sent for him to new york. he proposed to me from you that i would grant you a pardon. i answered that i had never granted one yet, and that i had set myself a safe rule not to grant a pardon to anybody whatsoever without the king's express leave or command. he told me you declared and protested your innocence, and that if your men could be persuaded to follow your example, you would make no manner of scruple of coming to this port or any other within her majestie's dominions; that you owned there were two ships taken but that your men did it violently against your will and had us'd you barbarously in imprisoning you and treating you ill most part of the voyage, and often attempting to murder you. mr. emmot delivered me two french passes taken on board the two ships which your men rifled, which passes i have in my custody and i am apt to believe they will be a good article to justifie you if the peace were not, by the treaty between england and france, to operate in that part of the world at the time the hostility was committed, as i almost confident it was not to do! mr. emmot also told me that you had to about the value of , pounds in the sloop with you, and that you had left a ship somewhere off the coast of hispaniola in which there was to the value of , pounds more which you had left in safe hands and had promised to go to your people in that ship within three months to fetch them with you to a safe harbour. these are all the material particulars i can recollect that passed between mr. emmot and me, only this, that you showed a great sense of honour and justice in professing with many asseverations your settled and serious design all along to do honor to your commission and never to do the least thing contrary to your duty and allegiance to the king. and this i have to say in your defense that several persons at new york who i can bring to evidence it, if there be occasion, did tell me that by several advices from madagascar and that part of the world, they were informed of your men revolting from you in one place, which i am pretty sure they said was at madagascar; and that others of them compelled you much against your will to take and rifle two ships. i have advised with his majesty's council and showed them this letter this afternoon, and they are of opinion that if your case be so clear as you (or mr. emmot for you) have said, that you may safely come hither, and be equipped and fitted out to go and fetch the other ship, and i make no manner of doubt but to obtain the king's pardon for you and those few men you have left, who i understand have been faithful to you and refused as well as you to dishonor the commission you had from england. i assure you on my word and on my honor i will performe nicely what i have now promised, tho' this i declare before hand that whatever treasure of goods you bring hither, i will not meddle with the least bit of them, but they shall be left with such trusty persons as the council will advise until i receive orders from england how they shall be disposed of. mr. campbell will satisfie you that this that i have now written is the sense of the council and of your humble servant. (not signed but endorsed, "a true copy, bellomont.") these were fair words but not as sincere as might have been. governor bellomont was anxious to lay hands on kidd by fair means or foul, and in the light of subsequent events this letter appears as a disingenuous decoy. it was carried back to narragansett bay by emmot, and with him bellomont sent one duncan campbell, postmaster of boston, as an authorized agent to advance the negotiations. campbell was a scotchman who had been a friend of kidd. he is mentioned in john dunton's "letter written from new england, a. d. ." "i rambled to the scotch book-seller, one campbell. he is a brisk young fellow that dresses all-a-mode, and sets himself off to the best advantage, and yet thrives apace. i am told (and for his sake i wish it may be true) that a young lady of great fortune has married him." in reply to bellomont's letter, thus delivered, captain kidd replied as follows: from block island road, on board the sloop st. antonio, june th, . _may it please your excellencie_: i am hon'rd with your lordship's kind letter of ye th., current by mr. campbell which came to my hands this day, for which i return my most hearty thanks. i cannot but blame myself for not writing to your lordship before this time, knowing it was my duty, but the clamorous and false stories that has been reported of me made me fearful of writing or coming into any harbor till i could hear from your lordship. i note the contents of your lordship's letter as to what mr. emmot and mr. campbell informed your lordship of my proceedings. i do affirm it to be true, and a great deal more may be said of the abuses of my men and the hardships i have undergone to preserve the ship and what goods my men had left. ninety-five men went away from me in one day and went on board the _moca frigott_, captain robert cullifer, commander, who went away to the red seas and committed several acts of pyracy as i am informed, and am afraid that because of the men formerly belonging to my galley, the report is gone home against me to the east india companee. a sheet of paper will not contain what may be said of the care i took to preserve the owners' interest and to come home to clear up my own innocency. i do further declare and protest that i never did in the least act contrary to the king's commission, nor to the reputation of my honorable owners, and doubt not but i shall be able to make my innocency appear, or else i had no need to come to these parts of the world, if it were not for that, and my owners' interest. there is five or six passengers that came from madagascar to assist me in bringing the ship home, and about ten of my own men that came with me would not venture to go into boston till mr. campbell had ingaged body for body for them that they should not be molested while i staid at boston, or till i returned with the ship. i doubt not but your lordship will write to england in my favor and for these few men that are left. i wish your lordship would persuade mr. campbell to go home to england with your lordship's letters, who will be able to give account of our affairs and diligently forward the same that there may be speedy answer from england. i desired mr. campbell to buy a thousand weight of rigging for the fitting of the ship, to bring her to boston, that i may not be delay'd when i come there. upon receiving your lordship's letter i am making the best of my way for boston. this with my humble duty to your lordship and the countess is what offers from, my lord, your excellency's most humble and dutyfull servant, wm. kidd. notwithstanding these expressions of confidence, kidd suspected bellomont's intentions and decided to leave his treasure in safe hands instead of carrying it to boston with him. now follows the documentary narrative of the only authenticated buried treasure of captain kidd and the proofs that he had no other booty of any account. at the eastern end of long island sound is a beautiful wooded island of three thousand acres which has been owned by the gardiner family as a manor since the first of them, lionel gardiner, obtained a royal grant almost three centuries ago. in june of , john gardiner, third of the line of proprietors, sighted a strange sloop anchored in his island harbor, and rowed out to make the acquaintance of captain william kidd who had crossed from narragansett bay in the san antonio. what happened between them and how the treasure was buried and dug up is told in the official testimony of john gardiner, dated july th, . "the narrative of john gard(i)ner of gard(i)ner island, alias isle of wight, relating to captain william kidd. that about twenty days ago mr. emmot of new york came to the narrator's house and desired a boat to go to new york, telling the narrator he came from my lord at boston, whereupon the narrator furnished mr. emmot with a boat and he went for new york. and that evening the narrator saw a sloop with six guns riding an anchor off gardiner's island and two days afterwards in the evening the narrator went on board said sloop to enquire what she was. and so soon as he came on board, capt. kidd (then unknown to the narrator) asked him how himself and family did, telling him that he, the said kidd, was going to my lord at boston, and desired the narrator to carry three negroes, two boys and a girl ashore to keep till he, the said kidd, or his order should call for them, which the narrator accordingly did. that about two hours after the narrator had got the said negroes ashore, capt. kidd sent his boat ashore with two bales of goods and a negro boy; and the morning after, the said kidd desired the narrator to come immediately on board and bring six sheep with him for his voyage for boston, which the narrator did. kidd asked him to spare a barrel of cyder, which the narrator with great importunity consented to, and sent two of his men for it, who brought the cyder on board said sloop. whilst the men were gone for the cyder, capt. kidd offered the narrator several pieces of damnified[ ] muslin and bengali as a present to his wife, which the said kidd put in a bagg and gave the narrator. and about a quarter of an hour afterwards the said kidd took up two or three (more) pieces of damnified muslin and gave the narrator for his proper use. and the narrator's men then coming on board with the said barrel of cyder as aforesaid, kidd gave them a piece of arabian gold for their trouble and also for bringing him word. then the said kidd, ready to sail, told this narrator he would pay him for the cyder, to which the narrator answered that he was already satisfied for it by the present made to his wife. and it was observed that some of kidd's men gave to the narrator's men some inconsiderable things of small value which were muslins for neck-cloths. and then the narrator tooke leave of the said kidd and went ashore and at parting the said kidd fired four guns and stood for block island. about three days afterwards, said kidd sent the master of the sloop and one clark in his boat for the narrator who went on board with them, and the said kidd desired him to take ashore with him and keep for him a chest and a box of gold and a bundle of quilts and four bales of goods, which box of gold the said kidd told the narrator was intended for my lord. and the narrator complied with the request and took on shore the said chest, box of gold, quilts and bales goods. and the narrator further saith that two of kidd's crew who went by the names of cooke and parrat delivered to him, the narrator, two baggs of silver which they said weighed thirty pound weight, for which he gave receipt. and that another of kidd's men delivered to the narrator a small bundle of gold and gold dust of about a pound weight to keep for him, and did present the narrator with a sash and a pair of wortsed stockins. and just before the sloop sailed, capt. kidd presented the narrator with a bagg of sugar, and then took leave and sailed for boston. and the narrator further saith he knew nothing of kidd's being proclaimed a pyrate, and if he had, he durst not have acted otherwise than he had done, having no force to oppose them and for that he hath formerly been threatened to be killed by privateers if he should carry unkindly to them. the within named narrator further saith that while capt. kidd lay with his sloop at gardner's island, there was a new york sloop whereof one coster is master, and his mate was a little black man, unknown by name, who as it is was said, had been formerly capt. kidd's quartermaster, and another sloop belonging to new yorke, jacob fenick, master, both which lay near to kidd's sloop three days together. and whilst the narrator was on board with capt. kidd, there was several bales of goods put on board the other two sloops aforesaid, and the said two sloops sailed up the sound. after which kidd sailed with his sloop for block island; and being absent by the space of three days, returned to gardner's island again in company of another sloop belonging to new york, cornelius quick, master, on board of which were one thomas clarke of setauket, commonly called whisking clarke, and one harrison of jamaica, father to a boy that was with capt. kidd, and capt. kidd's wife was then on board his own sloop. and quick remained with his sloop there from noon to the evening of the same day, and took on board two chests that came out of kidd's sloop, under the observance of this narrator, and he believes several goods more and then sailed up the sound. kidd remained there with his sloop until next morning, and then set sail intending, as he said, for boston. further the narrator saith that the next day after quick sailed with his sloop from gardner's island he saw him turning out of a bay called oyster pan bay, altho' the wind was all the time fair to carry him up the sound. the narrator supposes he went in thither to land some goods. john gardiner. boston, july th, . the narrator, john gardiner, under oath before his excellency and council unto the truth of his narrative in this sheet of paper. addington, sec'ry." this artless recital has every earmark of truth, and it was confirmed in detail by other witnesses and later events. before we fall to digging up the treasure of gardiner's island, carried ashore in the "chest and box of gold," it is well to follow those other goods which were carried away in the sloops about which so much has been said by john gardiner. no more is heard of that alluring figure, "the little black man, unknown by name, who as it was said had been formerly capt. kidd's quarter-master," but "whisking" clarke was duly overhauled. all of the plunder transferred from kidd's sloop to those other craft was consigned to him, and some of it was put ashore at stamford, conn., in charge of a major sellick who had a warehouse hard by the sound. clarke was arrested by order of bellomont and gave a bond of £ , that he would deliver up all to the government. this he did, without doubt, but legend has been busy with this enterprising "whisking" clarke. ====================================================================== [illustration: john gardiner's sworn statement of the goods and treasure left with him by kidd.] governor bellomont's endorsement of the official inventory of kidd's treasure found on gardiner's island. ====================================================================== in the connecticut river off the "upper end of pine meadow," near northfield, mass., is clarke's island which was granted by the town to william clarke in , and confirmed to his heirs in , it then contained ten and three-fourth acres, and was a secluded spot, well covered with trees. later, what with cutting off the woods and the work of the freshets, a large part of the island was washed away. it was here, tradition has it, that some of kidd's treasure was hidden by "whisking" clarke. the local story is that kidd and his men ascended the river, though how they got over the series of falls is not explained, and made a landing at clarke's island. here, having placed the chest in a hole, they sacrificed by lot one of their number and laid his body on top of the treasure in order that his ghost might forever defend it from fortune-seekers. one abner field, after consulting a conjurer who showed him precisely where the chest was buried resolved to risk a tussle with the pirate's ghost, and with two friends waited in fear and trembling for the auspicious time when the moon should be directly overhead at midnight. they were to work in silence, and to pray that no cock should crow within earshot and break the spell. at length, one of them raised his crow-bar for a mighty stroke, down it went, and clinked against metal. "you've hit it," cried another, and alas, instantly the chest sank out of reach, and the ghost appeared, and very angry it was. a moment later, the devil himself popped from under the bank, ripped across the island like a tornado and plunged into the river with a prodigious, hissing splash. the treasure hunters flew for home, and told their tale, but village rumor whispered it about that one oliver smith and a confederate had impersonated the ghost and the energetic evil one. on october , , bellomont wrote in a letter to england: "i have prevailed with governor winthrop of connecticut to seize and send thomas clarke of n. york prisoner hither. he has been on board kidd's sloop at the east end of long island and carried off to the value of about pounds in goods and treasure (that we know of and perhaps a great deal more) into connecticut colony; and thinking himself safe from under our power, writ my lt. governor of new york a very saucy letter and bade us defiance. i have ordered him to be safely kept prisoner in the fort, because the gaol of new york is weak and insufficient. and when orders come to me to send kidd and his men to england (which i long for impatiently), i will also send clarke[ ] as an associate of kidd." three days later, the lieutenant governor of new york wrote bellomont as follows: "clarke proffers , pounds good security and will on oath deliver up all the goods he hath been entrusted with from kidd, provided he may go and fetch them himself, but says he will rather die or be undone than to bring his friends into a predicament. i told him if he would let me know where i might secure these goods or bullion, i would recommend his case to your lordship's favour. he answered 'twas impossible to recover anything until he went himself." after leaving the bulk of his treasure on gardiner's island, kidd received another friendly message from lord bellomont, and was by now persuaded that he could go to boston without danger. with his wife on board his sloop, and she stood by him staunchly, he laid a course around cape cod and made port on the first day of july. captain and mrs. william kidd found lodgings in the house of their friend, duncan campbell, and he walked unmolested for a week, passing some of the time in the blue anchor tavern. "being a very resolute fellow," wrote hutchinson, "when the officer arrested him in his lodgings, he attempted to draw his sword, but a young gentleman who accompanied the officer, laying hold of his arm, prevented him and he submitted." in the letters of lord bellomont to the lords of plantations and colonies are fully related the particulars of kidd's downfall and of the finding of his treasure. on july th, he stated: "_my lords:_ "i gave your lordships a short account of my taking capt. kidd in my letter of the th. inst. i shall in this letter confine myself wholly to an account of my proceedings with him. on the th, of last month mr. emmot, a lawyer of n. york came to me late at night and told me he came from capt. kidd who was on the coast with a sloop, but would not tell me where; that kidd had brought pounds weight of gold, about weight of silver, and bales of east india goods (which was less by bales than we have since got out of the sloop). that kidd had left behind him a great ship near the coast of hispaniola that nobody but himself could find out, on board whereof there were in bale goods, saltpetre, and other things to the value of at least , pounds. that if i would give him a pardon, he would bring in the sloop and goods hither and fetch his great ship and goods afterwards. "mr. emmot delivered me that night two french passes which kidd took on board the two moors' ships which were taken by him in the seas of india (or as he alleged by his men against his will). one of the passes wants a date in the original as in the copy i sent your lordships, and they go (no. ) and (no. ). on the said th. of june as i sat in council i wrote a letter to capt. kidd and showed it to the council, and they approving of it i despatched mr. campbell again to kidd with my said letter, a copy whereof goes (no. ). your lordships may observe that the promise i made capt. kidd in my said letter of a kind reception and procuring the king's pardon for him, is conditional, that is, provided he were as innocent as he pretended to be. but i quickly found sufficient cause to suspect him very guilty, by the many lies and contradictions he told me. "i was so much upon my guard with kidd that he arriving here on saturday of this month, i would not see him but before witnesses; nor have i ever seen him but in council twice or thrice that we examined him, and the day he was taken up by the constable. it happened to be by the door of my lodging, and he rush'd in and came rushing to me, the constable after him. i had him not seiz'd till thursday, the th inst. for i had a mind to discover where he had left the great ship, and i thought myself secure enough from his running away because i took care not to give him the least umbrage or design of seizing him. nor had i till that day (that i produced my orders from court for apprehending) communicated them to anybody and i found it necessary to show my order to the council to animate them to join heartily with me in securing kidd and examining his affairs nicely,[ ] ... discover what we could of his behaviour in his whole voyage. another reason why i took him up no sooner was that he had brought his wife and children hither in his sloop with him who i believ'd he would not easily forsake. "he being examined twice or thrice by me and the council, and also some of his men, i observed he seemed much disturbed, and the last time we examined him i fancied he looked as if he were upon the wing and resolved to run away. and the gentlemen of the council had some of them the same thought with mine, so that i took their consent in seizing and committing him. but the officers appointed to seize his men were so careless as to let three or four of his men escape which troubled me the more because they were old n. york pyrates. the next thing the council and i did was to appoint a committee of trusty persons to search for the goods and treasure brought by kidd and to secure what they should find till the king's pleasure should be known as to the disposition thereof, as my orders from mr. secretary vernon import. the said committee were made up of two gentlemen of the council, two merchants, and the deputy collector, whose names are to the enclosed inventory of the goods and treasure. "they searched kidd's lodgings and found hid and made up in two sea beds a bag of gold dust and ingots of the value of about pounds and a bag of silver, part money and part pieces and piggs of silver, value as set down in the said inventory. in the above bag of gold were several little bags of gold; all particulars are very justly and exactly set down in the inventory. for my part i have meddled with no matter of thing under the management of the council, and into the custody of the aforementioned committee, that i might be free from the suspicion and censure of the world. "the enamel'd box mentioned in the beginning of the inventory is that which kidd made a present of to my wife by mr. campbell, which i delivered in council to the said committee to keep with the rest of the treasure. there was in it a stone ring which we take to be a bristol stone. if it was true[ ] it would be worth about pounds, and there was a small stone unset which we believe is also counterfeit, and a sort of a locket with four sparks which seem to be right diamonds: for there's nobody that understands jewels[ ] ... box and all that's in it were right, they cannot be worth above pounds. "your lordships will see in the middle of the inventory a parcel of treasure and jewels delivered up by mr. gardiner of gardiner's island in the province of new york and at the east end of nassau island, the recovery and saving of which treasure is owing to my own care and quickness. i heard by the greatest accident in the world the day capt. kidd was committed, that a man[ ] ... offered pounds for a sloop to carry him to gardiner's island, and kidd having owned to burying some gold on that island (though he never mentioned to us any jewels nor do i believe he would have own'd to the gold there but that he thought he should himself be sent for it), i privately posted away a messenger to mr. gardiner in the king's name to come forthwith and deliver up such treasure as kidd or any of his crew had lodg'd with him, acquainting him that i had committed kidd to gaol as i was ordered to do by the king. "my messenger made great haste and was with gardiner before anybody, and gardiner, who is a very substantial man, brought away the treasure without delay; and by my direction delivered it into the hands of the committee. if the jewels be right, as 'tis suppos'd they are, but i never saw them nor the gold and silver brought by gardiner, then we guess that the parcel brought by him may be worth (gold, silver, and jewels) pounds. and besides kidd had left six bales of goods with him, one of which was twice as big as any of the rest, and kidd gave him a particular charge of that bale and told him 'twas worth pounds. the six bales gardiner could not bring, but i have ordered him to send 'em by a sloop that is since gone from hence to n. york, and which is to return speedily. "we are not able to set an exact value on the goods and treasure we have got because we have not open'd the bales we took on board the (kidd's) sloop, but we hope when the six bales are sent in by gardiner, what will be in the hands of the gentlemen appointed to that trust will amount to about , pounds. "i have sent strict orders to my lt. governor at n. york to make diligent search for the goods and treasure sent by kidd to n. york in three sloops mentioned in gardiner's affidavit.[ ] ... i have directed him where to find a purchase[ ] in a house in n. york which i am apt to believe will be found in that house. i have sent to search elsewhere a certain place strongly suspected to have received another deposition of gold from kidd. "i am also upon the hunt after two or three arch-pyrates which i hope to give your lordships a good account of by the next conveyance. if i could have but a good able judge and attorney general at n. york, a man-of-war there and another here, and the companies recruited and well paid, i will rout pyrates and pyracy entirely out of this north part of america, but as i have too often told your lordships 'tis impossible for me to do all this alone in my single person. "i wrote your lordships in my last letter of the th. inst. that bradish, the pyrate, and one of his crew were escap'd out of the gaol in this town. we have since found that the gaoler was bradish's kinsman, and the gaoler confessed they went out at the prison door and that he found it wide open. we had all the reason in the world to believe the gaoler was consenting to the escape. by much ado i could get the council to resent the gaoler's behavior, and by my importunity i had the fellow before us. we examin'd him, and by his own story and account given us of his suffering other prisoners formerly to escape, i prevailed to have him turn'd out and a prosecution order'd against him to the attorney gen'l. i have also with some difficulty this last session of assembly here, got a bill to pass that the gaol be committed to the care of the high sheriff of the county, as in england with a salary of pounds paid to the said sheriff. "i am forced to allow the sheriff shillings per week for keeping kidd safe. otherwise i should be in some doubt about him. he has without doubt a great deal of gold, which is apt to corrupt men that have not principles of honour. i have therefore, to try the power of iron against gold, put him into irons that weigh pounds. i thought it moderate enough, for i remember poor dr. gates[ ] had a weight of iron on him while he was a prisoner in the late reign. "there never was a greater liar or thief in the world than this kidd; notwithstanding he assured the council and me every time we examined him that the great ship and her cargo awaited his return to bring her hither, and now your lordships will see by the several informations of masters of ships from curacoa that the cargo has been sold there, and in one of them 'tis said they have burnt that noble ship. and without doubt, it was by kidd's order, that the ship might not be an evidence against him, for he would not own to us that her name was the _quedah merchant_, tho' his men did. "andres ...[ ] eyne and two more brought the first news to new york of the sale of that cargo at curacoa, nor was ever such pennyworths heard for cheapness. captain evertz is he who has brought the news of the ship's being burnt. she was about tons, and kidd told us at council that never was there a stronger or stauncher ship seen. his lying had like to have involved me in a contract that would have been very chargeable and to no manner of purpose. i was advised by the council to dispatch a ship of good condition to go and fetch away that ship and cargo. i had agreed for a ship of tons, guns, and i was to man her with men to force (if there had been need of it) the men to yield who were left with the ship. "i was just going to seal the writing, when i bethought myself 'twere best to press kidd once more to tell me the truth. i therefore sent to him two gentlemen of the council to the gaol, and he at last own'd that he had left a power (of attorney) with one henry bolton, a merchant of antigua, to whom he had committed the care of the ship, to sell and dispose of all the cargo. upon which confession of kidd's i held my hand from hiring that great ship which would have cost pounds by computation, and now to-morrow i send the sloop kidd came in with letters to the lieut. govn'r of antigua, col. yoemans, and to the governors of st. thomas island and curacoa to seize and secure what effects they can that were late in the possession of kidd and on board the _quedah merchant_. "there is one burt, an englishman, that lives at st. thomas, who has got a great store of the goods and money for kidd's account. st. thomas belongs to the danes, but i hope to retrieve what burt has in his hands. the sending this sloop will cost but about pounds, if she be out three months. i hope your lordships will take care that immediate orders will be sent to antigua to secure bolton who must have played the knave egregiously, for he could not but know that kidd came knavishly by the ship and goods. "'tis reported that the dutch at curacoa have loaded three sloops with goods and sent them to holland. perhaps 'twere not amiss to send and watch their arrival in holland, if it be practicable to lay claim to 'em there. "since my commitment of kidd, i heard that upon his approach to this port, his heart misgave him and he proposed to his men putting out to sea again, and going to caledonia, the new scotch settlement near darien, but they refused. i desire i may have orders what to do with kidd and all his and bradish's crew, for as the law stands in this country, if a pyrate were convicted, yet he cannot suffer death; and the council here refused the bill to punish privateers and pyrates, which your lordships sent with me from england with a direction to recommend it at n. york and here, to be passed into a law.... "you will observe by some of the information i now send that kidd did not only rob the two moors' ships, but also a portuguese ship, which he denied absolutely to the council and me. i send your lordships several papers and evidences relating to capt. kidd. 'tis impossible for me to animadvert and make remarks on the several matters contain'd in the said papers in the weak condition i am at present...." my lord bellomont was in the grip of the gout at this time, which misfortune perhaps increased his irritation toward his partner, captain william kidd. in a previous letter to the authorities in london, this royal governor had explained quite frankly that he was trying to lure the troublesome pirate into his clutches, and called emmot, the lawyer, "a cunning jacobite, a fast friend of fletcher's[ ] and my avowed enemie." he also made this interesting statement: "i must not forget to tell your lordships that campbell brought three or four small jewels to my wife which i was to know nothing of, but she came quickly and discover'd them to me and asked me whether she would keep them, which i advised her to do for the present, for i reflected that my showing an over nicety might do hurt before i had made a full discovery what goods and treasure were in the sloop.... "mr. livingston also came to me in a peremptory manner and demanded up his bond and the articles which he seal'd to me upon kidd's expedition, and told me that kidd swore all the oaths in the world that unless i did immediately indemnify mr. livingston by giving up his securities, he would never bring in that great ship and cargo. i thought this was such an impertinence in both kidd and livingston that it was time for me to look about me, and to secure kidd. i had noticed that he designed my wife a thousand pounds in gold dust and ingotts last thursday, but i spoil'd his compliment by ordering him to be arrested and committed that day, showing the council's orders from court for that purpose.... "if i had kept mr. secretary vernon's orders for seizing and securing kidd and his associates with all their effects with less secrecy, i had never got him to come in, for his countrymen, mr. graham and livingston, would have been sure to caution him to shift for himself and would have been well paid for their pains." one by one, kidd's plans for clearing himself were knocked into a cocked hat. his lawyer did him no good, his hope of bribing the countess of bellomont with jewels, "gold dust and ingotts" went wrong, and his buried treasure of gardiner's island was dug up and confiscated by officers of the crown. it is regrettable that history, by one of its curious omissions, tells us no more about this titled lady. did kidd have reason to suppose that she would take his gifts and try to befriend him? when he was in high favor she may, perchance, have admired this dashing shipmaster and privateer as he spun his adventurous yarns in the governor's mansion. he may have jestingly promised to fetch her home jewels and rich silk stuffs of the indies filched from pirates. at any rate, she was not to be bought over, and kidd sat in jail anchored by those sixteen-pound irons, and biting his nails in sullen wrath and disappointment, while a messenger was posting to gardiner's island with this order from bellomont to the proprietor: boston in new england, th july, ... _mr. gardiner:_ having received the king's express orders for seizing and securing the body of capt. kidd and all his associates together with all their effects till i should receive his majesty's royal pleasure how to dispose of the same, i have accordingly secured capt. kidd in the gaol of this town and some of his men. he has been examined by myself and the council and has confessed among other things that he left with you a parcel of gold made up in a box and some other parcels besides, all of which i require you in his majesty's name immediately to fetch hither to me, that i may secure them for his majesty's use, and i shall recompense your pains in coming hither. i am, your friend and servant, bellomont. ====================================================================== [illustration: the official inventory of the kidd treasure found on gardiner's island. this is the only original and authenticated record of any treasure belonging to captain kidd. (from the british state papers in the public record office, london.)] ====================================================================== the box and the chest were promptly delivered by honest john gardiner, who had no mind to be mixed in the affairs of the now notorious kidd, together with the bales of goods left in his care. this booty was inventoried by order of bellomont and the governor's council and the original document is photographed herewith, as found in the public record office, london. it possessed a singular interest because it records and vouches for the only kidd treasure ever discovered. nor are its detailed items a mere dusty catalogue of figures and merchandise. this is a document to gloat over. if one has a spark of imagination, he smacks his lips. instead of legend and myth, here is a veritable pirate's hoard, exactly as it should be, with its bags of gold, bars of silver, "rubies great and small," candlesticks and porringers, diamonds and so on. the inventory contains also other booty found in the course of the treasure hunt, and lest the document itself may prove too hard reading, its contents are transcribed as follows to convince the most skeptical mind that there was a real kidd treasure and that it was found in the year of our lord, . boston, new england, july th, . a true accompt. of all such gold, silver, jewels, and merchandises in the possession of capt. william kidd, which have been seized and secured by us under-writing pursuant to an order from his excellency, richard, earle of bellomont, capt. generall and governor-in-chief in and over his majestie's province of ye massachusetts bay, etc., bearing date[ ] ... , vizt. in capt. william kid's box-- one bag fifty-three silver barrs. one bag seventy-nine barrs and pieces of silver.... one bag seventy-four bars silver. one enamel'd silver box in which are diamonds set in gold lockets, one diamond loose, one large diamond set in a gold ring. found in mr. duncan campbell's house, no. . one bag gold. . one bag gold. . one handkerchief gold. . one bag gold. . one bag gold. . one bag gold. . one bag gold. also twenty dollars, one halfe and one quart. pcs. of eight, nine english crowns, one small barr of silver, one small lump silver, a small chaine, a small bottle, a corral necklace, one pc. white and one pc. of checkquer'd silk.... in capt. william kidd's chests--two silver boxons, two silver candlesticks, one silver porringer, and some small things of silver--rubies small and great sixty-seven, green stones two. one large load stone.... landed from on board the sloop _antonio_ capt. wm. kidd late command.... baggs of sugar, pieces canvis, bales of merchandize. received from mr. duncan campbell three bailes merchandise, whereof one he had opened being much damnified by water.... eighty-five ps. silk rumals and bengalis, sixty ps. callicoes and muslins. received the th. instant of mr. john gardiner. no. . one bag dust gold. . one bag coyned gold and in it silver. . one p'cl dust gold. . one bag three silver rings and sundry precious stones. one bag of unpolished stones. one ps. of cristol and bazer stone, two cornelion rings, two small agats. two amathests all in the same bag. . one bag silver buttons and a lamp. . one bag broken silver. . one bag gold bars. . one bag gold barrs. . one bag dust gold. . one bag of silver bars. . one bag silver bars. the whole of the gold above mentioned is eleven hundred, and eleven ounces, troy weight. the silver is two thousand, three hundred, fifty-three ounces. the jewels or precious stones weight are seventeen ounces ... an ounce, and six[ ] ... stone by tale. the sugar is contained in fifty-seven baggs. the merchandize is contained in forty-one bailes. the canvis is seventeen pieces. sam. sewall. nath'l byfield. jer. dummer. laur. hammond, lt. coll. andr. belcher. _endorsed:_ inventory of the gold, silver, jewels and merchandize late in the possession of capt. wm. kidd and seiz'd and secured by ordr. of the e. of bellomont, th of july . this is an original paper. bellomont." ====================================================================== [illustration: a memorandum of captain kidd's treasure left on gardiner's island. this is his own declaration, signed and sworn.] ====================================================================== that famous sloop, the _san antonio_, was also carefully inventoried but her contents were for the most part sea gear and rough furnishings, barring a picturesque entry of "ye boy barleycorn," an apprentice seaman who had sailed with kidd. robert livingston has something to say about kidd's property in his statement under examination, which has been preserved as follows: "robert livingston, esq. being notified to appear before his excellency and council this day and sworn to give a true narrative and relation of his knowledge or information of any goods, gold, silver, bullion, or other treasure lately imported by capt. william kidd, his company and accomplices, or any of them, into this province, or any other of his majesty's provinces, colonies, or territories in america, and by them or any of them imbezelled, concealed, conveyed away, or any ways disposed of, saith: "that hearing capt. kidd was come into these parts to apply himself unto his excellency the earl of bellomont, the said narrator came directly from albany ye nearest way through the woods to meet the said kidd here and to wait upon his lordship. and at his arrival at boston capt. kidd informed him there was on board his sloop then in port forty bales of goods, and some sugar, and also said he had about eighty pound weight in plate. the narrator does not remember whether he said this was on board the sloop or not. and further the sd. kidd said he had forty pound weight in gold which he hid and secured in some place in the sound betwixt this and new york, not naming any particular place, which nobody could find but himself. and that all the said goods, gold, plate and sloop was for accompt. of the owners of the _adventure galley_, whereof this narrator was one. "and upon further discourse, kidd acknowledged that several chests and bundles of goods belonging to the men were taken out of his sloop betwixt this place and new york, and put into other sloops, saying he was forced thereto, that his men would otherwise have run the sloop on shore. and he likewise acknowledged that he had given mr. duncan campbell one hundred pieces of eight when he was on board his sloop at rhode island. and he knows no further of any concealment, imbezelment, or disposal made by said kidd, his company, or accomplices of any goods, gold, money, or treasure whatsoever, saving that kidd did yesterday acknowledge to this narrator that ye gold aforementioned was hid upon gardiner's island. he believed there was about fifty pound weight of it and that in the same box with it there was about three or four hundred pieces of eight and some pieces of plate belonging to his boy barleycorn and his negro man which he had gotten by[ ] ... for the men. also the said kidd gave this narrator a negro boy and another to mr. duncan campbell." there is reproduced herewith the original statement of kidd touching this gardiner island treasure. the document is badly torn and disfigured, but the gaps can be supplied from a copy made at that time, and here is what he had to say under oath: boston, sept. th. . captain william kidd declareth and saith that in his chest which he left at gardiner's island there were three small baggs or more of jasper antonio, or stone of goa, several pieces of silk stript with silver and gold cloth of silver, about a bushell of cloves and nutmegs mixed together, and strawed up and down, several books of fine white callicoa, several pieces of fine muzlins, several pieces more of flowered silk. he does not well remember what further was in it. he had an invoice thereof in his other chest. all that was contained in ye said chest was bought by him and some given him at madagascar. nothing thereof was taken in ye ship quidah merchant. he esteemed it to be of greater value than all else that he left at gardiner's island except ye gold and silver. there was neither gold nor silver in ye chest. it was fastened with a padlock and nailed and corded about. further saith that he left at said gardiner's island a bundle of nine or ten fine indian quilts, some of ye silk with fringes and tassels. wm. kidd. the earl of bellomont was as keen as a bloodhound on the scent of treasure and it is improbable that any of the kidd plunder escaped his search. he lost no time in the quest of that james gillam whose chest had been landed in delaware bay, and a singularly diverting episode is related by bellomont in one of his written reports to the council of trade and plantations: "i gave you an account, oct. th, of my taking joseph bradish and wetherly, and writ that i hoped in a little time to be able to send news of my taking james gillam, the pyrate that killed capt. edgecomb, commander of the _mocha frigate_ for the east india co., and that with his own hand, while the captain was asleep. gillam is supposed to be the man that encouraged the ship's company to turn pyrates, and the ship has ever since been robbing in the red sea and seas of india. if i may believe the report of men lately come from madagascar, she has taken above , , pounds sterling. "i have been so lucky as to take james gillam, and he is now in irons in the gaol of this town. and at the same time we seized on francis dole, in whose house he was harboured, who proved to be one of hore's crew. my taking of gillam was so very accidental one would believe there was a strange fatality in the man's stars. on saturday, th inst., late in the evening, i had a letter from col. sanford, judge of the admiralty court in rhode island, giving me an account that gillam had been there, but was come towards boston a fortnight before, in order to ship himself for some of the islands, jamaica or barbadoes. "i was in despair of finding the man. however, i sent for an honest constable i had made use of in apprehending kidd and his men, and sent him with col. sanford's messenger to search all the inns in town and at the first inn they found the mare on which gillam had rode into town, tied up in the yard. the people of the inn reported that the man who brought her hither had alighted off her about a quarter of an hour before, and went away without saying anything. "i gave orders to the master of the inn that if anybody came to look after the mare, he should be sure to seize him, but nobody came for her. next morning i summoned a council, and we published a proclamation, wherein i promised a reward of pieces of eight for the seizing and securing of gillam, whereupon there was the strictest search made all that day and the next that was ever made in this part of the world. but we would have missed had i not been informed of one capt. knott as an old pyrate and therefore likely to know where gillam was conceal'd. i sent for knott and examined him, promising if he would make an ingenious confession i would not molest him. "he seemed much disturbed but would not confess anything to purpose. i then sent for his wife and examined her on oath apart from her husband, and she confessed that one who went by the name of james kelly had lodged several nights in her house, but for some nights past he lodged, as she believed, in charlestown, cross the river. i knew that he (gillam) went by the name of kelly. then i examined captain knott again, telling him his wife had been more free and ingenious than him, which made him believe she had told all. and then he told me of francis dole in charlestown, and that he believed that gillam would be found there. "i sent half a dozen men immediately, and knott with 'em. they beset the house and searched it, but found not the man. two of the men went through a field behind dole's house and ... met a man in the dark whom they seized at all adventure, and it happened as oddly as luckily to be gillam. he had been treating two young women some few miles off in the country, and was returning at night to his landlord dole's house. "i examined him but he denied everything, even that he came with kidd from madagascar, or even saw him in his life; but capt. davis who came thence with kidd's men is positive he is the man and that he went by his true name gillam all the while he was on the voyage with 'em. and mr. campbell, postmaster of this town, whom i sent to treat with kidd, offers to swear this is the man he saw on board kidd's sloop under the name of gillam. he is the most impudent, hardened villain i ever saw.... "in searching captain knott's house a small trunk was found with some remnants of east india goods and a letter from kidd's wife to capt. thomas paine, an old pyrate living on canonicut island in rhode island government. he made an affidavit to me when i was in rhode island that he had received nothing from kidd's sloop, when she lay at anchor there, yet by knott's deposition, he was sent with mrs. kidd's letter to paine for ounces of gold, which kidd accordingly brought, and mrs. kidd's injunction to paine to keep all the rest that was left with him till further notice was a plain indication that there was a good deal of treasure still left behind in paine's custody. "therefore i posted away a messenger to gov. cranston and col. sanford to make a strict search of paine's house before he could have notice. it seems nothing was then found, but paine has since produced ounces and odd weight of gold, as appears by gov. cranston's letter, nov. , and pretends 'twas bestowed on him by kidd, hoping that may pass as a salve for the oath he has made. i think it is plain he foreswore himself. i am of opinion he has a great deal more of kidd's goods still in his hands, but he is out of my power and being in that government i cannot compel him to deliver up the rest...." that "edward davis, mariner," who came home with kidd and who made the statement already quoted concerning gillam's chest, found himself in trouble with the others of that crew, and the tireless bellomont refers to him in this fashion: "when capt kidd was committed to gaol, there was also a pyrate committed who goes by the name of captain davis, that came passenger with kidd from madagascar. i suppose him to be that captain davis that dampier and wafer speak of, in their printed relations of voyages, for an extraordinary stout man; but let him be as stout as he will, here he is a prisoner, and shall be forthcoming upon the order i receive from england concerning kidd and his men. "when i was at rhode island there was one palmer, a pyrate, that was out upon bail, for they cannot be persuaded there to keep a pyrate in gaol, they love 'em too well. he went out with kidd from london and forsook him at madagascar to go on board the _mocha frigate_, where he was a considerable time, committing several robberies with the rest of the pyrates in that ship, and was brought home by shelly of new york. "i asked gov. cranston how he could answer taking bail for him, when he had received so strict orders from mr. secretary vernon to seize and secure kidd and his associates with their effects. i desired col. sanford to examine palmer on oath. i enclose his examination where your lordships may please to observe that he accuses kidd of murdering his gunner, which i never heard before." ====================================================================== [illustration: statement of edward davis, who sailed home with kidd, concerning the landing of the treasure and goods.] ====================================================================== it may be that the "old pyrate," thomas paine buried a bag of kidd's gold but it is much more likely that whatever had been stored with him was turned over to that astute helpmeet, mrs. william kidd, for whom it has been left in his keeping. as for that "most impudent, hardened villain," james gillam, it is unreasonable to suppose that his sea chest was buried by the friends who took it off his hands in delaware bay. indeed, there was no motive for putting booty underground when it could be readily disposed of in the open market. bellomont complained in one of his letters of this same eventful summer: "there are about thirty pyrates come lately into the east end of nassau island and have a great deal of money with them, but so cherished are they by the inhabitants that not a man among them is taken up. several of them i hear, came with shelly from madagascar. mr. hackshaw, one of the merchants in london that plotted against me, is one of the owners of shelley's sloop, and mr. de lancey, a frenchman at new york is another. i hear that capt. kidd dropped some pyrates in that island (madagascar). till there be a good judge or two, and an honest, active attorney general to prosecute for the king, all my labour to suppress pyracy will signify even just nothing. when fred phillip's ship and the other two come from madagascar, which are expected every day, new york will abound with gold. 'tis the most beneficial trade, that to madagascar with the pyrates, that ever was heard of, and i believe there's more got that way than by turning pirates and robbing. i am told this shelley sold rum, which cost but s. per gallon in new york for s. at madagascar, and a pipe of madeira wine, which cost him pounds at new york, he sold for pounds. strong liquors and gun powder and ball are the commodities that go off there to best advantage, and those four ships last summer carried thither great quantities of things." there is another authentic glimpse of kidd and his men and his spoils, as viewed by colonel robert quarry,[ ] judge of the admiralty court for the province of pennsylvania. "there is arrived in this government," he reported, "about pirates in a ship directly from madagascar. they are part of kidd's gang, and about of them have quitted the ship and are landed in this government. about sixteen more are landed at cape may in the government of west jersey. the rest of them are still on board the ship at anchor near the cape waiting for a sloop from new york to unload her. she is a very rich ship. all her loading is rich east india bale goods to a very great value, besides abundance of money. the captain of the ship is one shelley of new york and the ship belongs to merchants of that place. the goods are all purchased from the pirates at madagascar which pernicious trade gives encouragement to the pirates to continue in those parts, having a market for all the goods they plunder and rob in the red sea and several other parts of east india." colonel quarry caught two of these pirates and lodged them in jail at burlington, new jersey, and later tucked away two others in philadelphia jail. from the former two thousand pieces of eight were taken, a neat little fortune to show that piracy was a paying business. a few days later colonel quarry got wind of no other than kidd himself and would have caught him ahead of bellomont had he been properly supported. he protested indignantly: "since my writing the enclosed i have by the assistance of col. bass, governor of the jerseys, apprehended four more of the pirates at cape may and might have with ease secured all the rest of them and the ship too, had this government (pennsylvania) given me the least aid or assistance. but they would not so much as issue a proclamation, but on the contrary the people have entertained the pirates, convey'd them from place to place, furnished them with provisions and liquors, and given them intelligence, and sheltered them from justice. and now the greater part of them are conveyed away in boats to rhode island. all the persons i have employed in searching for and apprehending these pirates are abused and affronted and called enemies of the country for disturbing and hindering honest men (as they are pleased to call the pirates) from bringing their money and settling amongst them.... "since my writing this, capt. kidd is come in this (delaware) bay. he hath been here about ten days. he sends his boat ashore to the hore kills where he is supplied with what he wants and the people frequently go on board him. he is in a sloop with about forty men with a vast treasure, i hope the express which i sent to his excellency governor nicholson will be in time enough to send the man-of-war to come up with kidd.... "the pirates that i brought to this government have the liberty to confine themselves to a tavern, which is what i expected. the six other pirates that are in burlington are at liberty, for the quakers there will not suffer the government to send them to gaol. thus his majesty may expect to be obeyed in all places where the government is in quakers' hands...." [ ] mr. f. l. gay of boston very kindly gave the author the use of his valuable collection of documentary material concerning captain kidd, some of which is contained in this chapter. in addition, the author consulted many of the original documents among the state papers in the public record office, london. [ ] damaged. [ ] clarke managed to clear himself and this threat was not carried out. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] genuine. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] prize, or plunder. [ ] titus gates, the notorious informer, who revealed an alleged "papist plot" to massacre the english protestants in the reign of charles ii. he was later denounced, pilloried, and publicly flogged within an inch of his life. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] lieutenant-governor at new york. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] ms. torn. [ ] colonel robert quarry cut a rather odd figure as a prosecutor of pirates in new jersey and pennsylvania. he had been secretary to the governor of carolina and assumed that office without authority from the proprietors, at the death of sir richard kyle who was appointed in . "a few months before it had been recommended that 'as the governor will not in all probability always reside in charles town, which is so near the sea as to be in danger from a sudden invasion of pirates,' governor kyle should commissionate a particular governor for charles town who may act in his absence." (south carolina historical society collections.) governor kyle suggested as a suitable person for this office his secretary, robert quarry, and "probably this recommendation made quarry feel justified in assuming control when kyle died. so flagrant was quarry's encouragement of pirates, and his cupidity so notorious that he was removed from office after two months. later "he went north and was appointed admiralty judge for new york and pennsylvania." ("the carolina pirates," by s. c. hughson, johns hopkins university studies.) chapter iv captain kidd, his trial, and death as the under dog in a situation where the most powerful influences of england conspired to blacken his name and take his life, captain william kidd, even at this late day, deserves to be heard in his own defense. that he was unfairly tried and condemned is admitted by various historians, who, nevertheless, have twisted or overlooked the facts, as if kidd were, in sooth, a legendary character. this blundering, careless treatment is the more surprising because kidd was made a political issue of such importance as to threaten the overthrow of a ministry and the parliamentary censure of the king himself. at the height of the bitter hostility against somers, the whig lord chancellor of william iii, the kidd affair presented itself as a ready weapon for the use of his political foes. "about the other patrons of kidd the chiefs of the opposition cared little," says macauley.[ ] "bellomont was far removed from the political scene. romney could not, and shrewsbury would not play a first part. orford had resigned his employments. but somers still held the great seal, still presided in the house of lords, still had constant access to the closet. the retreat of his friends had left him the sole and undisputed head of that party which had, in the late parliament, been a majority, and which was in the present parliament outnumbered indeed, disorganized and threatened, but still numerous and respectable. his placid courage rose higher and higher to meet the dangers which threatened him. "in their eagerness to displace and destroy him, they overreached themselves. had they been content to accuse him of lending his countenance, with a rashness unbecoming his high place, to an ill-concerted scheme, that large part of mankind which judges of a plan simply by the event would probably have thought the accusation well founded. but the malice which they bore to him was not to be so satisfied. they affected to believe that he had from the first been aware of kidd's character and designs. the great seal had been employed to sanction a piratical expedition. the head of the law had laid down a thousand pounds in the hopes of receiving tens of thousands when his accomplices should return laden with the spoils of ruined merchants. it was fortunate for the chancellor that the calumnies of which he was object were too atrocious to be mischievous. "and now the time had come at which the hoarded ill-humor of six months was at liberty to explode. on the sixteenth of november the house met.... there were loud complaints that the events of the preceding session had been misrepresented to the public, that emissaries of the court, in every part of the kingdom, declaimed against the absurd jealousies or still more absurd parsimony which had refused to his majesty the means of keeping up such an army as might secure the country against invasion. angry resolutions were passed, declaring it to be the opinion of the house that the best way to establish entire confidence between the king and the estates would be to put a brand on those evil advisers who had dared to breathe in the royal ear calumnies against a faithful parliament. "an address founded on these resolutions was voted; many thought that a violent rupture was inevitable. but william returned an answer so prudent and gentle that malice itself could not prolong the dispute. by this time, indeed, a new dispute had begun. the address had scarcely been moved when the house called for copies of the papers relating to kidd's expedition. somers, conscious of his innocence, knew that it was wise as well as right and resolved that there should be no concealment. "howe raved like a maniac. 'what is to become of the country, plundered by land, plundered by sea? our rulers have laid hold of our lands, our woods, our mines, our money. and all this is not enough. we cannot send a cargo to the farthest ends of the earth, but they must send a gang of thieves after it.' harley and seymour tried to carry a vote of censure without giving the house time to read the papers. but the general feeling was strongly for a short delay. at length on the sixth of december, the subject was considered in a committee of the whole house. shower undertook to prove that the letters patent to which somers had put the great seal were illegal. cowper replied to him with immense applause, and seems to have completely refuted him. "at length, after a debate which lasted from mid-day till nine at night, and in which all the leading members took part, the committee divided on the question that the letters patent were dishonorable to the king, inconsistent with the laws of nations, contrary to the statutes of the realm, and destructive of property and trade. the chancellor's enemies had felt confident of victory, and made the resolution so strong in order that it might be impossible for him to retain the great seal. they soon found that it would have been wise to propose a gentler censure. great numbers of their adherents, convinced by cowper's arguments, or unwilling to put a cruel stigma on a man of whose genius and accomplishments the nation was proud, stole away before the doors were closed. to the general astonishment, there were only one hundred and thirty-three ayes to one hundred and eighty-nine noes. that the city of london did not consider somers as the destroyer, and his enemies as the protectors of trade, was proved on the following morning by the most unequivocal of signs. as soon as the news of the triumph reached the royal exchange, the price of stocks went up." there is a very rare pamphlet which illuminates the matter in much more detail. it was written and published as a defense of bellomont and his partners and the very length, elaboration, and heat its argument shows how furiously the political pot was boiling while kidd was imprisoned in london awaiting his trial. this _ex parte_ production is entitled "a full account of the actions of the late famous pyrate, captain kidd, with the proceedings against him and a vindication of the right honourable richard, earl of bellomont, lord caloony, late governor of new england, and other honourable persons from the unjust reflection; cast upon them. by a person of quality."[ ] it is herein recorded that the arguments to support the question moved in parliament were: " --that by law the king could not grant the goods of pirates, at least, not before conviction. " --that the grant was extravagant, for all goods of pirates, taken with or by any persons in any part of the world, were granted away. " --not only the goods of the pirates, but all goods taken with them were granted, which was illegal, because tho' the goods were taken by pirates, the rightful owners have still a title to them, piracy working no change of property. " --by this grant a great hardship was put upon the merchants whose goods might be taken with the pirates, for they had nowhere to go for justice. they could not hope for it in the chancery, the lord chancellor being interested; nor at the board of admiralty where the earl of orford presided; nor from the king, all access to him being by the duke of shrewsbury; nor in the plantations where the earl of bellomont was. so the only judge who the pirates were, and what goods were theirs, was captain kidd himself." whatsoever may have been wrong with his contract or his commissions, and parliament sustained them by vote as already mentioned, captain kidd cannot be held blameworthy on this score. and it is absurd to call him a premeditated pirate who sailed from plymouth with evil purpose in his heart. his credentials and endorsements, his record as a shipmaster, and his repute at home, cannot be set aside. they speak for themselves. nor is it possible to reconcile the character of the man, as he was known by his deeds up to that time, with the charges laid against him. it is worth noting that the complaints made against his conduct in the waters of the far east came from the east india company which denounced and proclaimed him as a pirate with a price on his head. it was a case of the pot calling the kettle black. although the house of commons had decided five years before that the old company should no longer have a monopoly of english trade in asiatic seas, the merchants of london or bristol dared not fit out ventures to voyage beyond the cape of good hope, and found it necessary to send their goods in the ships that flew the flag of india house. the private trader still ran grave of being treated as a smuggler, if not as a pirate. "he might, indeed, if he was wronged, apply for redress to the tribunals of his country. but years must elapse before his cause could be heard; his witnesses must be conveyed over fifteen thousand miles of sea; and in the meantime he was a ruined man."[ ] this powerful corporation which ruled the eastern seas as it pleased, confiscating the ships and goods of private traders, accused kidd of seizing two ships with their cargoes which belonged to the great mogul, and of several petty depredations hardly to be classed as piracy. the case against him was built up around the two vessels known as the _november_ and the _quedah merchant_. his defense was that on board these prizes he had found french papers, or safe conduct passes made out in the name of the king of france and issued by the french east india company. he therefore took the ships as lawful commerce of the enemy. the crews of such trading craft as these comprised men of many nations, arabs, lascars, portuguese, french, dutch, english, armenian, and heaven knows what else. the nationality of the skipper, the mate, the supercargo, or the foremast hands had nothing to do with the ownership of the vessel, or the flag under which she was registered, or chartered. the papers found in her cabin determined whether or not she should be viewed as a prize of war, or permitted to go on her way. in order to protect the ship as far as possible, it was not unusual for the master to obtain two sets of papers, to be used as occasion might require, and it is easily possible that the _quedah merchant_, trading with the east india company, may have taken out french papers, in order to deceive any french privateer or cruiser that might be encountered. nor did the agents of the east india company see anything wrong in resorting to such subterfuges. the corner stone of kidd's defense and justification was these two french passes, which precious documents he had brought home with him, and it was admitted even by his enemies that the production of them as evidence would go far to clear him of the charges of piracy. that they were in his possession when he landed in new england and that bellomont sent them to the lords of plantations in london is stated in a letter quoted in the preceding chapter. the documents then disappeared, their very existence was denied, and kidd was called a liar to his face, and his memory damned by historians writing later, for trying to save his neck by means of evidence which he was powerless to exhibit. it would appear that these papers were not produced in court because it had been determined that kidd should be found guilty as a necessary scapegoat. but he told the truth about the french passes, and after remaining among the state papers for more than two centuries, the original of one of them, that found by him aboard the _quedah merchant_, was recently discovered in the public record office by the author of this book, and it is herewith photographed in _fac simile_. its purport has been translated as follows: from the king. we, francois martin esquire, councillor of the royal director, minister of commerce for the royal company of france in the kingdom of bengal, the coast of coramandel, and other (dependencies). to all those who will see these presents, greetings: the following, _coja quanesse, coja jacob, armenian; nacodas_, of the ship _cara merchant_, which the armenian merchant agapiris kalender has freighted in surate from cohergy ... having declared to us that before their departure from surate they had taken a passport from the company which they have presented to us to be dated from the first of january, , signed _martin_ and subscribed _de grangemont_; that they feared to be molested during the voyage which they had to make from this port to surate, and alleging that the aforementioned passport is no longer valid, and that for this reason they begged of us urgently to have another sent to them;--for these reasons we recommend and enjoin upon all those under the authority of the company; we beg the chiefs of squadrons and commanders of vessels of his majesty: and we request all the friends and allies of the crown in nowise to retard the voyage and to render all possible aid and comfort, promising on a similar occasion to do likewise. in testimony of which we have signed these presents, and caused them to be countersigned by the secretary of the company, and the seal of his arms placed thereon. martin. (dated jan. , .) ====================================================================== [illustration: the french pass or safe conduct paper found by kidd in the ship _quedah merchant_. this document, which was suppressed by the prosecution, is evidence that the prize was a lawful capture. kidd vainly begged at his trial that this was another french pass be produced as evidence in his favor.] ====================================================================== it is reasonable to assume that the _cara merchant_ of the passport, is intended to designate the ship in which the document was found by kidd. in various reports of the episode, the name of the vessel was spelled _quidah, quedah, queda_ and _quedagh_. the word is taken from the name of a small native state of the malay peninsula, and even to-day it is set down in various ways, as _quedah, kedda_, or _kedah_. other circumstances confirm this supposition and go far to prove that the ship was a lawful prize for an english privateer. during the period between the revolution and the war of , england confiscated many american merchant vessels in the west indies under pretexts not a whit more convincing than kidd's excuse for snapping up the _quedah merchant_. what kidd himself had to say about this affair is told in his narrative of the voyage as he related it during his preliminary examination while under arrest in boston. it runs as follows: a narrative of the voyage of capt. william kidd, commander of the _adventure galley_, from london to the east indies. that the journal of the said capt. kidd being violently taken from him in the port of st. maries in madagascar; and his life many times being threatened to be taken away from him by of his men that deserted him there, he cannot give that exact account he otherwise would have done, but as far as his memory will serve, it is as follows, vizt: that the said _adventure galley_ was launched in castles yard at deptford about the th. day of december, , and about the latter end of february the said galley came to ye buoy in the nore, and about the first day of march following, his men were pressed from him for the fleet which caused him to stay there about days, and then sailed for the downs and arrived there about the th or th day of april , and sailed thence to plymouth and on the rd. day of the said month of april he sailed from plymouth on his intended voyage. and some time in the month of may met with a small french vessel with salt and fishing tackle on board, bound for newfoundland, which he took and made prize of and carried the same into new york about the th day of july where she was condemned as lawful prize, and the produce whereof purchased provisions for the said galley for her further intended voyage. that about the th. day of september, , the said capt. kidd sailed for the madeiras in company with one joyner, master of a brigantine belonging to bermuda, and arrived there about the th. day of october following, and thence to bonavista where they arrived about the th. of the said month and took in some salt and stay'd three or four days and sailed thence to st. jago and arrived there the th, of the said month, where he took in some water and stay'd about or days, and thence sailed for the cape of good hope and in the latitude of , on the th day of december, , met with four english men of war whereof capt. warren was commodore and sailed a week in their company, and then parted and sailed to telere, a port in the island of madagascar. and being there about the th day of january, there came in a sloop belonging to barbadoes loaded with rum, sugar, powder, and shott, one french, master, and mr. hatton and mr. john batt, merchants, and the said hatton came on board the said _galley_ and was suddenly taken ill and died in the cabbin. and about the latter end of february sailed for the island of johanna, and the said sloop keeping company, and arrived thereabout the th day of march, where he found four east india merchantmen, outward bound, and watered there all together and stay'd about four days, and from thence about the nd day of march sailed for mehila, an island ten leagues distant from johanna, where he arrived the next morning, and there careened the said _galley, and about fifty men died there in a week's time_.[ ] and about the th day of april, , set sail for the coast of india, and came upon the coast of malabar, in the beginning of the month of september, and went into carawar upon that coast about the middle of the same month, and watered there. the gentlemen of the english factory gave the narrator an account that the portugese were fitting out two men of war to take him, and advised him to set out to sea, and to take care of himself from them, and immediately he set sail therefrom about the nd of the said month of september. and the next morning, about break of day, saw the said two men-of-war standing for the said _galley_, and they spoke with him and asked him whence he was, who replied from london, and they returned answer from goa, and so parted, wishing each other a good voyage. and making still along the coast, the commodore of the said men-of-war kept dogging the said _galley_ at night, waiting an opportunity to board the same, and in the morning without speaking a word fired six great guns at the _galley_, some whereof went through her and wounded four of his men. and therefore he fired upon him again, and the fight continued all day, and the narrator had eleven men wounded. the other portugese men of war lay some distance off, and could not come up with the _galley_, being calm, else would have likewise assaulted the same. the said fight was sharp and the said portugese left the said galley with such satisfaction that the narrator believes no portugese will ever attack the king's colours again, in that part of the world especially. afterwards continued upon the said coast till the beginning of the month of november cruising upon the cape of cameroon for pyrates that frequent that coast. then he met with capt. how in the _loyal captain_, a dutch ship belonging to madras, bound to surat whom he examined and finding his pass good, designed freely to let her pass about her affairs. but having two dutchmen on board, they told the narrator's men that they had divers greeks and armenians on board who had divers precious stones and other rich goods, which caused his men to be very mutinous, and they got up their arms, and swore they would take the ship. the narrator told them the small arms belonged to the _galley_, and that he was not come to take any englishmen or lawful traders, and that if they attempted any such thing, they should never come on board the _galley_ again, nor have the boat or small arms, for he had no commission to take any but the king's enemies and pyrates and that he would attack them with the _galley_ and drive them into bombay, (the other vessel being a merchantman, and having no guns, they might easily have done it with a few hands). with all the arguments and menaces he could use, he could scarce restrain them from their unlawful design, but at last prevail'd and with much ado got him clear and let him go about his business. all of which captain how will attest if living. and about the th. or th day of the said month of november met with a moors' ship of about tons coming from surat, bound to the coast of malabar, loaded with two horses, sugar and cotton, having about moors on board with a dutch pylot, boatswain, and gunner, which said ship the narrator hailed, and commanded (the master) on board and with him came or moors and the said three dutchmen, who declared it was a moors' { } ship, and he (the narrator) demanding their pass from surat which they showed and the same was a french pass which he believed was showed by mistake, for the pylot swore by sacrament she was a prize and staid on board the _galley_ and would not return again on board the moors' ship but went in the _galley_ to the port of st. maries. and that about the first day of february following, upon the same coast, under french colours with a designe to decoy, met a bengali merchantman[ ] belonging to surat, of the burthen of or tons, guns, and he commanded the master on board, and a frenchman, inhabitant of surat and belonging to the french factory there and gunner of said ship, came on board as master, and when he came on board the narrator caused the english colours to be hoysted, and the said master was surprised, and said "you are all english," and asked which was the captain, whom when he (the frenchman) saw, he said, "here is a good prize" and delivered him the french pass. and that with the said two prizes, he (the narrator) sailed for the port of st. maries in madagascar, and sailing thither the _galley_ was so leaky that they feared she would have sunk every hour, and it required eight men every two glasses to keep her free, and they were forced to woold her round with cables to keep her together, and with much ado carried her into port.... and about the th day of may, the lesser prize was haled into the careening island or key (the other not having arrived), and ransacked and sunk by the mutinous men who threatened the narrator and the men that would not join with them, to burn and sink the other ship that they might not go home and tell the news. and that when he arrived in the said port, there was a pyrate ship, called the _moca frigat_, at an anchor, robert culliford, commander thereof, who with his men left the same and ran into the woods, and the narrator proposed to his men to take the same, having sufficient power and authority so to do, but the mutinous crew told him if he offered the same they would rather fire two guns into him than one into the other; and thereupon deserted and went into the _moca frigat_, and sent into the woods for the said pyrates and brought the said culliford and his men on board again. and all the time she (the _moca frigat_) staid in the said port, which was for the space of or days, the said deserters, sometimes in great numbers, came on board the _adventure galley_ and her prize and carried away the great gun, powder, shot, arms, sails, anchors, etc., and what they pleased, and threatened several times to murder the narrator (as he was informed and advised to take care of himself), which they designed in the night to effect, but was prevented by his locking himself in his cabbin and securing himself with barricading the same with bales of goods, and having about forty small arms besides pistols ready charged, kept them out. their wickedness was so great that after they had plundered and ransacked sufficiently, they went four miles off to one edward welche's house where his (the narrator's) chest was lodged, and broke it open and took out ounces of gold, forty pounds of plate, pieces of eight, the narrator's journal, and a great many papers that belonged to him, and to the people of new yorke that fitted him out. that about the th day of june the _moca frigate_ went away, being manned with about men and forty guns, bound out to take all nations. then it was that the narrator was left with only about men, so that the moors he had to pump and keep the _adventure galley_ above water being carried away, she sank in the harbour, and the narrator with the said thirteen men went on board of the _adventure's_ prize where he was forced to stay five months for a fair wind. in the meantime some passengers presented themselves that were bound for these parts, which he took on board to help to bring the said _adventure's_ prize[ ] home. that about the beginning of april , the narrator arrived at anguilla in the west indies and sent his boat on shore where his men heard the news that he and his people were proclaimed pirates, which put them into such a consternation that they sought all opportunities to run the ship on shore upon some reefs or shoal, fearing the narrator should carry them into some english port. from anguilla, they came to st. thomas where his brother-in-law, samuel bradley, was put on shore, being sick, and five more went away and deserted him. there he heard the same news, that the narrator and his company were proclaimed pirates, which incensed the people more and more. from st. thomas set sail for mona, an island between hispaniola and porto rico, where they met with a sloop called the _st. anthony_, bound for antigua from curacoa, mr. henry bolton, merchant, and samuel wood, master. the men on board then swore they would bring the ship no farther. the narrator then sent the said sloop, _st. anthony_, to curacoa for canvas to make sails for the prize, she being not able to proceed, and she returned in days, and after the canvas came he could not persuade the men to carry her for new england. six of the men went and carried their chests and things on board of two dutch sloops bound for curacoa, and would not so much as heel the vessel or do anything. the remainder of the men, not being able to bring the _adventure_ prize to boston, the narrator secured her in a good safe harbour in some part of hispaniola and left her in the possession of m. henry bolton of antigua, merchant, and the master, and three of the old men, and or of the men that belonged to the said sloop, _st. anthony_, and a brigantine belonging to one burt of curacoa. that the narrator bought the said sloop, _st. anthony_, of mr. bolton, for the owners' account, after he had given directions to the said bolton to be careful of the ship and lading and persuaded him to stay three months till he returned. and he then made the best of his way for new york where he heard the earl of bellomont was, who was principally concerned in the _adventure galley_, and hearing his lordship was at boston, came thither and has now been days from the said ship. further, the narrator saith that the said ship was left at st. katharine on the southeast part of hispaniola, about three leagues to leeward of the westerly end of savano. whilst he lay at hispaniola he traded with mr. henry bolton of antigua and mr. william burt of curacoa, merchants, to the value of eleven thousand two hundred pieces of eight, whereof he received the sloop _antonio_ at ps. of eight, and four thousand two hundred ps. of eight in bills of lading drawn by bolton and burt upon messers. gabriel and lemont, merchants, in curacoa, made payable to mr. burt who went himself to curacoa, and the value of four thousand pieces of eight more in dust and bar gold. which gold, with some more traded for at madagascar, being fifty pounds weight or upwards in quantity, the narrator left in custody of mr. gardiner of gardiner's island, near the eastern end of long island, fearing to bring it about by sea. it is made up in a bagg put into a little box, lockt and nailed, corded about and sealed. the narrator saith he took no receipt for it of mr. gardiner. the gold that was seized at mr. campbell's, the narrator traded for at madagascar, with what came out of the _galley_. he saith that he carried in the _adventure galley_ from new york men, seventy whereof came out of england with him. some of his sloop's company put two bails of goods on store at gardiner's island, being their own property. the narrator delivered a chest of goods, vizt; muslins, latches, romals, and flowered silk unto mr. gardiner of gardiner's island to be kept there for him. _he put no goods on shore anywhere else_. several of his company landed their chests and other goods at several places. further saith he delivered a small bail of coarse callicoes unto a sloopman of rhode island that he had employed there. the gold seized at mr. campbell's, the narrator intended for presents to some that he expected to do him kindness. some of his company put their chests and bails on board a new york sloop lying at gardiner's island. wm. kidd. presented and taken _die prædict_ before his exc'y and council addington, sec'y. more than a year after kidd had been carried to england with twelve of his crew, he was arraigned for trial at the old bailey. meantime lord bellomont had died in boston. trials for piracy were common enough, but this accused shipmaster was confronted by such an array of titled big-wigs and court officials as would have been sufficient to try the lord chancellor himself. for the government, the lord chief baron, sir edward ward, presided, and with him sat sir henry hatsell, baron of the exchequer; sir salathiel lovell, the recorder of london; sir john turton and sir henry gould, justices of the king's bench, and sir john powell, a justice of the common pleas. as counsel for the prosecution, there was the solicitor general, dr. oxenden; mr. knapp, mr. coniers, and mr. campbell. for captain william kidd, there was no one. by the law of england at that time, a prisoner tried on a criminal charge could employ no counsel and was permitted to have no legal advice, except only when a point of law was directly involved. kidd had been denied all chance to muster witnesses or assemble documents, and, at that, the court was so fearful of failing to prove the charges of piracy that it was decided to try him first for killing his gunner, william moore, and convicting him of murder. he would be as conveniently dead if hanged for the one crime as for the other. now, it is not impossible that kidd had clean forgotten that trifling episode of william moore. for a commander to knock down a seaman guilty of disrespect or disobedience was as commonplace as eating. the offender was lucky if he got off no worse. discipline in the naval and merchant services was barbarously severe. sailors died of flogging or keelhauling, or of being triced up by the thumbs for the most trifling misdemeanors. as for moore, he was a mutineer, and an insolent rogue besides, who had stirred up trouble in the crew, and nothing would have been said to any other skipper than kidd for shooting him or running him through. however, let the testimony tell its own story. after the grand jury had returned the bill of indictment for murder, the clerk of arraignment said: "william kidd, hold up thy hand." with a pluck and persistence which must have had a certain pathetic dignity, kidd began to object. "may it please your lordship, i desire you to permit me to have counsel." _the recorder_. "what would you have counsel for?" kidd. "my lord, i have some matters of law relating to the indictment, and i desire i may have counsel to speak to it." _dr. oxenden_. "what matter of law can you have?" _clerk of arraignment_. "how does he know what he is charged with? i have not told him." _the recorder_. "you must let the court know what these matters of law are before you can have counsel assigned you." _kidd_. "they be matters of law, my lord." _the recorder_. "mr. kidd, do you know what you mean by matters of law?" _kidd_. "i know what i mean. i desire to put off my trial as long as i can, till i can get my evidence ready." _the recorder_: "mr. kidd, you had best mention the matter of law you would insist on." _dr. oxenden_. "it cannot be matter of law to put off your trial, but matter of fact." _kidd_. "i desire your lordship's favor. i desire that dr. oldish and mr. lemmon here be heard as to my case (indicating lawyers present in court)." _clerk of arraignment_. "what can he have counsel for before he has pleaded?" _the recorder_. "mr. kidd, the court tells you it shall be heard what you have to say when you have pleaded to your indictment. if you plead to it, if you will, you may assign matter of law, if you have any, but then you must let the court know what you would insist on." _kidd_. "i beg your lordship's patience, till i can procure my papers. i had a couple of french passes which i must make use of, in order to my justification." _the recorder_. "this is not matter of law. you have had long notice of your trial, and might have prepared for it. how long have you had notice of your trial?" _kidd_. "a matter of a fortnight." _dr. oxenden_. "can you tell the names of any persons that you would make use of in your defense?" _kidd_. "i sent for them, but i could not have them." _dr. oxenden_. "where were they then?" _kidd_. "i brought them to my lord bellomont in new england." _the recorder_. "what were their names? you cannot tell without book. mr. kidd, the court sees no reason to put off your trial, therefore you must plead." _clerk of arraignment_. "william kidd, hold up thy hand." _kidd_. "i beg your lordship i may have counsel admitted, and that my trial may be put off, i am not really prepared for it." _the recorder_. "nor never will, if you could help it." _dr. oxenden_. "mr. kidd, you have had reasonable notice, and you know you must be tried, and therefore you cannot plead you are not ready." _kidd_. "if your lordships permit those papers to be read, they will justify me. i desire my counsel may be heard." _mr. coniers_. "we admit of no counsel for him." _the recorder_. "there is no issue joined, and therefore there can be no counsel assigned. mr. kidd, you must plead." _kidd_. "i cannot plead till i have those papers that i insisted upon." _mr. lemmon_. "he ought to have his papers delivered to him, because they are very material for his defense. he has endeavored to have them, but could not get them." _mr. coniers_. "you are not to appear for anyone, (mr. lemmon) till he pleads, and that the court assigns you for his counsel." _the recorder_. "they would only put off the trial." _mr. coniers_. "he must plead to the indictment." _clerk of arraignment_. "make silence." _kidd_. "my papers are all seized, and i cannot make my defense without them. i desire my trial may be put off till i can have them." _the recorder_. "the court is of opinion that they ought not to stay for all your evidence; it may be they will never come. you must plead; and then if you can satisfy the court that there is a reason to put off the trial, you may." _kidd_. "my lord, i have business in law, and i desire counsel." _the recorder_. "the course of courts is, when you have pleaded, the matter of trial is next; if you can then show there is cause to put off the trial, you may, but now the matter is to plead." _kidd_. "it is a hard case when all these things shall be kept from me, and i am forced to plead." _the recorder_. "if he will not plead, there must be judgment." _kidd_. "would you have me plead and not have my vindication by me?" _clerk of arraignment_. "will you plead to the indictment?" _kidd_. "i would beg that i may have my papers for my vindication." it is very obvious that up to this point kidd was concerned only with the charges of piracy, and attached no importance to the fact that he had been indicted for the murder of his gunner. regarding the matter of the french passes, kidd was desperately in earnest. he knew their importance, nor was he begging for them as a subterfuge to gain time. he had been employed as a privateering commander against the french in the west indies and on the new england coast, as the documents of the provincial government have already shown. it is fair to assume that he knew the rules of the game and the kind of papers necessary to make a prize a lawful capture by the terms of the english privateering commission which he held. but his efforts to introduce this evidence which had been secured by bellomont and forwarded to the authorities in london, were of no avail. compelled to plead to the indictment for murder, kidd swore that he was not guilty, and the trial then proceeded under the direction of lord chief baron ward. dr. oldish, who sought to be assigned, with mr. lemmon, as counsel for the prisoner, was not to be diverted from the main issue, and he boldly struck in. "my lord, it is very fit his trial should be delayed for some time because he wants some papers very necessary for his defense. it is very true he is charged with piracies in several ships, but they had french passes when the seizure was made. now, if there were french passes, it was a lawful seizure." _mr. justice powell_. "have you those passes?" _kidd_. "they were taken from me by my lord bellomont, and these passes would be my defense." _dr. oldish_. "if those ships that he took had french passes, there was just cause of seizure, and it will excuse him from piracy." _kidd_. "they were taken from me by my lord bellomont and those passes show there was just cause of seizure. that we will prove as clear as the day." _the lord chief baron_. "what ship was that which had the french passes?" _mr. lemmon_. "the same he was in; the same he is indicted for." _clerk of arraignment_. "let all stand aside but captain kidd. william kidd, you are now to be tried on the bill of murder; the jury is going to be sworn. if you have any cause of exception, you may speak to them as they come to the book." _kidd_. "i challenge none. i know nothing to the contrary but they are honest men." the first witness for the crown was joseph palmer, of the _adventure galley_ (who had been captured by bellomont in rhode island and who had informed him of the incident of the death of moore, the gunner). he testified as follows: "about a fortnight before this accident fell out, captain kidd met with a ship on that coast (malabar) that was called the _loyal captain_. and about a fortnight after this, the gunner was grinding a chisel aboard the _adventure_, on the high seas, near the coast of malabar in the east indies." _mr. coniers_. "what was the gunner's name!" _palmer_. "william moore. and captain kidd came and walked on the deck, and walked by this moore, and when he came to him, says, 'how could you have put me in a way to take this ship (_loyal captain_) and been clear?' 'sir,' says william moore, 'i never spoke such a word, nor thought such a thing.' upon which captain kidd called him a lousie dog. and says william moore, 'if i am a lousie dog, you have made me so. you have brought me to ruin and many more.' upon him saying this, says captain kidd, 'have i ruined you, ye dog?' and took a bucket bound with iron hoops and struck him on the right side of the head, of which he died next day." _mr. coniers_. "tell my lord what passed next after the blow." _palmer_. "he was let down the gun-room, and the gunner said 'farewell, farewell! captain kidd has given me my last.' and captain kidd stood on the deck and said, 'you're a villain.'" robert bradingham, who had been the surgeon of the _adventure galley_, then testified that the wound was small but that the gunner's skull had been fractured. _mr. cooper_. "had you any discourse with captain kidd after this, about the man's death?" _bradingham_. "some time after this, about two months, by the coast of malabar, captain kidd said, 'i do not care so much for the death of my gunner, as for other passages of my voyage, for i have good friends in england, who will bring me off for that.'" with this, the prosecution rested, and the lord chief baron addressed kidd. "then you may make your defense. you are charged with murder, and you have heard the evidence that has been given. what have you to say for yourself?" _kidd_. "i have evidence to prove it is no such thing, if they may be admitted to come hither. my lord, i will tell you what the case was. i was coming up within a league of the dutchman (the _loyal captain_), and some of my men were making a mutiny about taking her, and my gunner told the people he could put the captain in a way to take the ship and be safe. says i, 'how will you do that?' the gunner answered, 'we will get the captain and men aboard.' 'and what then?' 'we will go aboard the ship and plunder her and we will have it under their hands that we did not take her.' says i, 'this is judas-like. i dare not do such a thing.' says he, '_we_ may do it. we are beggars already.' 'why,' says i, 'may we take the ship because we are poor?' upon this a mutiny arose, so i took up a bucket and just throwed it at him, and said 'you are a rogue to make such a notion.' this i can prove, my lord." thereupon kidd called abel owens, one of his sailors, and asked him: "can you tell which way this bucket was thrown?" _mr. justice powell_ (to owens). "what was the provocation for throwing the bucket?" _owens_. "i was in the cook-room, and hearing some difference on the deck, i came out, and the gunner was grinding a chisel on the grind-stone, and the captain and he had some words, and the gunner said to the captain, 'you have brought us to ruin, and we are desolate.' 'and,' says he, (the captain) 'have i brought you to ruin? i have not brought you to ruin. i have not done an ill thing to ruin you; you are a saucy fellow to give me these words.' and then he took up the bucket, and did give him the blow." _kidd_. "was there a mutiny among the men?" _owens_. "yes, and the bigger part was for taking the ship, and the captain said, 'you that will take the dutchman, you are the strongest, you may do what you please. if you will take her, you may take her, but if you go from aboard here, you shall never come aboard again.'" _the lord chief baron_. "when was this mutiny you speak of?" _owens_. "when we were at sea, about a month before this man's death." _kidd_. "call richard barlicorn." (barlicorn was an apprentice who has been mentioned in the inventory of the sloop _san antonio_.) _kidd_. "what was the reason the blow was given to the gunner?" barlicorn. "at first, when you met with the ship (_loyal captain_) there was a mutiny, and two or three of the dutchmen came aboard, and some said she was a rich vessel, and they would take her. and the captain (kidd) said, 'no, i will not take her,' and there was a mutiny in the ship, and the men said, 'if you will not, we will.' and he said, 'if you have a mind, you may, but they that will not, come along with me.'" _kidd_. "do you think william moore was one of those that was for taking her?" _barlicorn_. "yes. and william moore lay sick a great while before this blow was given, and the doctor said when he visited him, that this blow was not the cause of his death." _the lord chief baron_. "then they must be confronted. do you hear, bradingham, what he says?" _bradingham_. "i deny this." as for this surgeon, kidd swore that he had been a drunken, useless idler who would lay in the hold for weeks at a time. seaman hugh parrott was then called and asked by kidd: "do you know the reason why i struck moore?" _parrott_. "yes, because you did not take the _loyal captain_, whereof captain how was commander." _the lord chief baron_. "was that the reason that he struck moore, because this ship was not taken?" _parrott_. "i shall tell you how this happened, to the best of my knowledge. my commander fortuned to come up with this captain how's ship and some were for taking her, and some not. and afterwards there was a little sort of mutiny, and some rose in arms, the greater part; and they said they would take the ship. and the commander was not for it, and so they resolved to go away in the boat and take her. captain kidd said, 'if you desert my ship, you shall never come aboard again, and i will force you into bombay, and i will carry you before some of the council there.' inasmuch that my commander stilled them again and they remained on board. and about a fortnight afterwards, there passed some words between this william moore and my commander, and then, says he (moore), 'captain, i could have put you in a way to have taken this ship and been never the worse for it.' he says, (kidd), 'would you have had me take this ship? i cannot answer it. they are our friends,' and with that i went off the deck, and i understood afterwards the blow was given, but how i cannot tell." _kidd_. "i have no more to say, but i had all the provocation in the world given me. i had no design to kill him. i had no malice or spleen against him." the lord chief baron. "that must be left to the jury to consider the evidence that has been given. you make out no such matter." _kidd_. "it was not designedly done, but in my passion, for which i am heartily sorry." kidd was permitted to introduce no evidence as to his previous good reputation, and the court concluded that it had heard enough. lord chief baron ward thereupon delivered himself of an exceedingly adverse charge to the jury, virtually instructing them to find the prisoner guilty of murder, which was promptly done. having made sure of sending him to execution dock, the court then proceeded to try him for piracy, which seems to have been a superfluous and unnecessary pother. kidd declared, when this second trial began: "it is vain to ask any questions. it is hard that the life of one of the king's subjects should be taken away upon the perjured oaths of such villains as these (bradingham and palmer). because i would not yield to their wishes and turn pirate, they now endeavor to prove i was one. bradingham is saving his life to take away mine." the crown proved the capture of the two ships belonging to the great mogul, and an east indian merchant, representing the merchants, testified as to the value of the lading and the regularity of the ship's papers. kidd challenged this evidence, and once more pleaded with the court that he be allowed to bring forward the french passes. he asserted that the _quedah merchant_ had a french commission, and that her master was a tavern keeper of surat. that he told the truth, the accompanying photograph of the said document bears belated witness. the lord chief baron put his finger on the weak point of the case by asking to know why kidd had not taken the ship to port to be lawfully condemned as a prize, as demanded by the terms of his commission from the king. to this kidd replied that his crew were mutinous, and the _adventure galley_ unseaworthy, for which reasons he made for the nearest harbor of madagascar. there his men, to the number of ninety odd, mutinied and went over to the pirate culliford in the _mocha frigate_. he was left short-handed, his own ship was unfit to take to sea, so he burned her, and transferred to the _quedah merchant_, after which he steered straight for boston to deliver her prize to lord bellomont, which he would have done had he not learned in the west indies that he had been proclaimed a pirate. edward davis, mariner, confirmed the statement regarding the french passes, in these words: "i came home a passenger from madagascar and from thence to amboyna, and there he (kidd) sent his boat ashore, and there was one that said captain kidd was published a pirate in england, and captain kidd gave those passes to him to read. the captain said they were french passes." _kidd_. "you heard that one, captain elms, say they were french passes?" _davis_. "yes, i heard captain elms say they were french passes." _mr. baron hatsell_. "have you any more to say, captain kidd?" _kidd_. "i have some papers, but my lord bellomont keeps them from me, so that i cannot bring them before the court!" bradingham and other members of the crew admitted that they understood from kidd that the captured ships were sailing under french passes. kidd, having been convicted of murder, was now allowed to fetch in witnesses as to his character as a man and a sailor previous to the fatal voyage. one captain humphrey swore that he had known capt. kidd in the west indies twelve years before. "you had a general applause," said he, "for what you had done from time to time." _the lord chief baron_. "that was before he was turned pirate." captain bond then declared: "i know you were very useful at the beginning of the war in the west indies." colonel hewson put the matter more forcibly and made no bones of telling the court: "my lord, he was a mighty man there. he served under my command there. he was sent to me by the order of colonel codrington." _the solicitor general_. "how long was this ago?" _colonel hewson_. "about nine years ago. he was with me in two engagements against the french, and fought as well as any man i ever saw, according to the proportion of his men. we had six frenchmen (ships) to deal with, and we had only mine and his ship." _kidd_. "do you think i was a pirate?" _colonel hewson_. "i knew his men would have gone a-pirating, and he refused it, and his men seized upon his ship; and when he went this last voyage, he consulted with me, and told me they had engaged him in such an expedition. and i told him that he had enough already and might be content with what he had. and he said that was his own inclination, but lord bellomont told him if he did not go the voyage there were great men who would stop his brigantine in the river if he did not go." _thomas cooper_. "i was aboard the _lyon_ in the west indies and this captain kidd brought his ship from a place that belonged to the dutch and brought her into the king's service at the beginning of the war, about ten years ago. and he took service under the colonel (hewson), and we fought monsieur du cass a whole day, and i thank god we got the better of him. and captain kidd behaved very well in the face of his enemies." it may be said also for captain william kidd that he behaved very well in the face of the formidable battery of legal adversaries. as a kind of afterthought, the jury found him guilty of piracy along with several of his crew, nichols churchill, james how, gabriel loiff, hugh parrott, abel owens, and darby mullins. three of those indicted were set free, richard barlicorn, robert lumley, and william jenkins, because they were able to prove themselves to have been bound seamen apprentices, duly indentured to officers of the ship who were responsible for their deeds. before sentence was passed on him, kidd said to the court: "my lords, it is a very hard judgment. for my part i am the most innocent person of them all." execution dock long since vanished from old london, but tradition has survived along the waterfront of wapping to fix the spot, and the worn stone staircase known as the "pirates' stairs," still leads down to the river, and down these same steps walked captain william kidd. the _gentleman's magazine_ (london) for describes the ancient procedure, just as it had befallen captain kidd and his men: "feb. th. this morning, a little after ten o'clock, colley, cole, and blanche, the three sailors convicted of the murder of captain little, were brought out of newgate, and conveyed in solemn procession to execution dock, there to receive the punishment awarded by law. on the cart on which they rode was an elevated stage; on this were seated colley, the principal instigator in the murder, in the middle, and his two wretched instruments, the spaniard blanche, and the mulatto cole, on each side of him; and behind, on another seat, two executioners. "colley seemed in a state resembling that of a man stupidly intoxicated, and scarcely awake, and the two discovered little sensibility on this occasion, nor to the last moment of their existence, did they, as we hear, make any confession. they were turned off about a quarter before twelve in the midst of an immense crowd of spectators. on the way to the place of execution, they were preceded by the marshall of the admiralty in his carriage, the deputy marshall, bearing the silver oar, and the two city marshals on horseback, sheriff's officers, etc. the whole cavalcade was conducted with great solemnity." john taylor, "the water poet," who lived in the time of captain kidd, wrote these doleful lines, which may serve as a kind of obituary: "there are inferior gallowses which bear, (according to the season) twice a year; and there's a kind of waterish tree at wapping where sea-thieves or pirates are catched napping." kidd's body, covered with tar and hung in chains, was gibbeted on the shore of the reach of the thames hard by tilbury fort, as was the customary manner of displaying dead pirates by way of warning to passing seamen. his treasure was confiscated by the crown, and what was left of it, after the array of legal gentlemen had been paid their fees, was turned over to greenwich hospital by act of parliament. ====================================================================== [illustration: kidd hanging in chains. (_from the pirates' own book_.)] "the pirates' stairs" leading to the site of execution dock at wapping where kidd was hanged. the old stone steps are visible beneath the modern iron bridge. ====================================================================== thus lived and died a man, who, whatever may have been his faults, was unfairly dealt with by his patrons, misused by his rascally crew, and slandered by credulous posterity. [ ] history of england. [ ] published in . [ ] macauley. [ ] "from hence putting off to the west indies, wee were not many dayes at sea, but there beganne among our people such mortalitie as in fewe days there were dead above two or three hundred men. and until some seven or eight dayes after our coming from s. iago, there had not died any one man of sickness in all the fleete; the sickness shewed not his infection wherewith so many were stroken until we were departed thence, and then seazed our people with extreme hot burning and continuall agues, whereof very fewe escaped with life, and yet those for the most part not without great alteration and decay of their wittes and strength for a long time after."--hakluyt's voyages.--(a summarie and true discourse of sir francis drake's west indian voyage begun in the year .) [ ] the _quedah merchant_. [ ] the _quedah merchant_. chapter v the wondrous fortune of william phips the flaw in the business of treasure hunting, outside of fiction, is that the persons equipped with the shovels and picks and the ancient charts so seldom find the hidden gold. the energy, credulity, and persistence of these explorers are truly admirable but the results have been singularly shy of dividends the world over. there is genuine satisfaction, therefore, in sounding the name and fame of the man who not only went roving in search of lost treasure but also found and fetched home more of it than any other adventurer known to this kind of quest. on the coast of maine, near where the kennebec flows past bath into the sea, there is a bit of tide water known as montsweag bay, hard by the town of wiscasset. into this little bay extends a miniature cape, pleasantly wooded, which is known as phips point, and here it was that the most illustrious treasure seeker of them all, william phips, was born in . the original pilgrim fathers, or some of them, were still hale and hearty, the innumerable ship-loads of furniture brought over in the _mayflower_ had not been scattered far from plymouth, and this country was so young that the "oldest families" of boston were all brand-new. james phips, father of the great william, was a gun-smith who had come over from bristol in old england to better his fortunes. with the true pioneering spirit he obtained a grant of land and built his log cabin at the furthest outpost of settlement toward the eastward. he cleared his fields, raised some sheep, and betimes repaired the blunderbusses with which puritan and pilgrim were wont to pot the aborigine. the first biography of william phips was written by cotton mather, whom the better you know the more heartily you dislike for a canting old bigot who boot-licked men of rank, wealth, or power, and was infernally active in getting a score of hapless men and women hanged for witchcraft in salem. cotton mather deserves the thanks of all good treasure seekers, however, for having given us the first-hand story of william phips whom he knew well and extravagantly admired. in fact, after this hero had come sailing home with his treasures and because of these riches was made sir william phips and royal governor of massachusetts by charles ii, he had his pew in the old north church of boston of which rev. cotton mather was pastor. but this is going ahead too fast, and we must hark back to the humble beginnings. "his faithful mother, yet living," wrote mather in his very curious _magnalia christi americana_, "had no less than twenty-six children, whereof twenty-one were sons: but equivalent to them all was william, one of the youngest, whom his father dying, was left young with his mother, and with her he lived, keeping ye sheep in the wilderness until he was eighteen years old." then william decided that the care of the farm and the sheep might safely be left to his twenty brothers, and he apprenticed himself to a shipwright who was building on the shore near the settlement those little shallops, pinnaces, and sloops in which our forefathers dared to trade up and down their own coasts and as far as the west indies, mere cockle-shells manned by seamen of astonishing temerity and hardihood. while at work with hammer and adze, this strapping lump of a lad listened to the yarns of skippers who had voyaged to jamaica and the bahamas, dodging french privateers or running afoul of pirates who stripped them of cargo and gear, and perhaps it was then that he first heard of the treasures that had been lost in wrecked galleons, or buried by buccaneers of hispaniola. at any rate, william phips wished to see more of the world and to win a chance to go to sea in a ship of his own, wherefore he set out for boston after he had served his time, "having an accountable impulse upon his mind, persuading him, as he would privately hint unto some of his friends, that he was born to greater matters." twenty-two years old, not yet able to read and write, young phips found work with a ship-carpenter and studied his books as industriously as he plied his trade. soon he was wooing a "young gentlewoman of good repute, the daughter of one captain roger spencer," and there was no resisting this headstrong suitor. they were married, and shortly after this important event phips was given a contract to build a ship at a settlement on sheepscot river, near his old home on the kennebec, "where having launched the ship," cotton mather relates, "he also provided a lading of lumber to bring with him, which would have been to the advantage of all concerned. "but just as the ship was hardly finished, the barbarous indians on that river broke forth into an open and cruel war upon the english, and the miserable people, surprised by so sudden a storm of blood, had no refuge from the infidels but the ship now finishing in the harbor. wherefore he left his intended lading behind him, and instead thereof carried with him his old neighbors and their families, free of all charges, to boston. so the first thing he did, after he was his own man, was to save his father's house, with the rest of the neighborhood from ruin; but the disappointment which befell him from the loss of his other lading plunged his affairs into greater embarrassment with such as he had employed him. but he was hitherto no more than beginning to make scaffolds for further and higher actions. he would frequently tell the gentlewoman, his wife, that he should yet be captain of a king's ship; that he should come to have the command of better men than he was now accounted himself, and that he would be the owner of a fair brick house in the green lane of north boston."[ ] inasmuch as william phips would have been a very sorry scoundrel indeed, to run away, for the sake of a cargo of lumber, and leave his old friends and neighbors to be scalped, it seems as cotton mather was sounding the timbrel of praise somewhat over-loud, but the parson was a fulsome eulogist, and for reasons of his own he proclaimed this roaring, blustering seafarer and hot-headed royal governor as little lower than the angels. here and there mather drew with firm stroke the character of the man, so that we catch glimpses of him as a live and moving figure. "he was of an inclination cutting rather like a hatchet than a razor; he would propose very considerable matters and then so cut through them that no difficulties could put by the edge of his resolution. being thus of the true temper for doing of great things, he betakes himself to the sea, the right scene for such things." ====================================================================== [illustration: sir william phips, first royal governor of massachusetts.] ====================================================================== phips had no notion of being a beggarly new england trading skipper, carrying codfish and pine boards to the west indies and threshing homeward with molasses and niggers in the hold, or coasting to virginia for tobacco. a man of mettle won prizes by bold strokes and large hazards, and treasure seeking was the game for william. among the taverns of the boston water-front he picked up tidings and rumors of many a silver-laden galleon of spain that had shivered her timbers on this or that low-lying reef of the bahama passage where there was neither buoy nor lighthouse. here was a chance to win that "fair brick house in the green lane of north boston" and phips busied himself with picking up information until he was primed to make a voyage of discovery. keeping his errand to himself, he steered for the west indies, probably in a small chartered sloop or brig, and prowled from one key and island to another. this was in the year , and the waters in which phips dared to venture were swarming with pirates and buccaneers who would have cut his throat for a doubloon. morgan had sacked panama only eleven years before; tortuga, off the coast of hayti, was still the haunt of as choice a lot of cutthroats as ever sailed blue water; and men who had been plundering and killing with pierre le grande, bartholomew portugez and montbars the exterminator, were still at their old trade afloat. mariners had not done talking about the exploit of l'ollonais who had found three hundred thousand dollars' worth of spanish treasure hidden on a key off the coast of cuba. he it was who amused himself by cutting out the hearts of live spaniards and gnawing these morsels, or slicing off the heads of a whole ship's crew and drinking their blood. a rare one for hunting buried treasure was this fiend of a pirate. when he took maracaibo, as esquemeling relates in the story of his own experiences as a buccaneer, "l'ollonais, who never used to make any great amount of murdering, though in cold blood, ten or twelve spaniards, drew his cutlass and hacked one to pieces in the presence of all the rest, saying: 'if you do not confess and declare where you have hidden the rest of your goods, i will do the like to all your companions.' at last, amongst these horrible cruelties and inhuman threats, one was found who promised to conduct him and show the place where the rest of the spaniards were hidden. but those that were fled, having intelligence that one discovered their lurking holes to the pirates, changed the place, and buried all the remnant of their riches underground; insomuch that the pirates could not find them out, unless some other person of their own party should reveal them." from this first voyage undertaken by phips he escaped with his skin and a certain amount of treasure, "what just served him a little to furnish him for a voyage to england," says mather. the important fact was that he had found what he sought and knew where there was a vast deal more of it. a large ship, well armed and manned, was needed to bring away the booty, and captain william phips intended to find backing in london for the adventure. he crossed the atlantic in "a vessel not much unlike that which the dutchmen stamped on their first coin," and no sooner had his stubby, high-pooped ark of a craft cast anchor in the thames than he was buzzing ashore with his tale of the treasure wreck. it was no less a person than the king himself whom phips was bent on enlisting as a partner, and he was not to be driven from whitehall by lords or flunkies. with bulldog persistence he held to his purpose month after month, until almost a year had passed. at length, through the friends he had made at court, he gained the ear of charles ii, and that gay monarch was pleased to take a fling at treasure hunting as a sporting proposition, with an eye also to a share of the plunder. he gave phips a frigate of the king's navy, the _rose_ of eighteen guns and ninety-five men, which had been captured from the algerine corsairs. as "captain of a king's ship," he recruited a crew of all sorts, mostly hard characters, and sailed from london in september, , bound first to boston, and thence to find the treasure. alas, for the cloak of piety with which cotton mather covered william phips from head to heels. other accounts show convincingly that he was a bullying, profane, and godless sea dog, yet honest withal, and as brave as a lion, an excellent man to have at your elbow in a tight pinch, or to be in charge of the quarter-deck in a gale of wind. the real phips is a more likeable character than the stuffed image that cotton mather tried to make of him. while in boston harbor in the _rose_, captain phips carried things with a high hand. another skipper had got wind of the treasure and was about to make sail for the west indies in a ship called the _good intent_. phips tried to bluff him, then to frighten him, and finally struck a partnership so that the two vessels sailed in company. refusing to show the boston magistrates his papers, phips was haled to court where he abused the bench in language blazing with deep-sea oaths, and was fined several hundred pounds. his sailors got drunk ashore and fought the constables and cracked the heads of peaceable citizens. staid boston was glad when the _rose_ frigate and her turbulent company bore away for the west indies. there was something wrong with phip's information or the spanish wreck had been cleaned of her treasure before he found the place. the _rose_ and the _good intent_ lay at the edge of a reef somewhere near nassau for several months, sending down native divers and dredging with such scanty returns that the crew became mutinous and determined on a program very popular in those days. armed with cutlasses, they charged aft and demanded of phips that he "join them in running away with the ship to drive a trade of piracy in the south seas. captain phips ... with a most undaunted fortitude, rushed in upon them, and with the blows of his bare hands felled many of them and quelled all the rest." it became necessary to careen the _rose_ and clean the planking all fouled with tropical growth, and she was beached on "a desolate spanish island." the men were given shore liberty, all but eight or ten, and the rogues were no sooner out of the ship than "they all entered into an agreement which they signed in a ring (a round-robin), that about seven o'clock that evening they would seize the captain and those eight or ten which they knew to be true to him, and leave them to perish on the island, and so be gone away into the south seas to seek their fortune.... these knaves, considering that they should want a carpenter with them in their villainous expedition, sent a messenger to fetch unto them the carpenter who was then at work upon the vessel; and unto him they showed their articles; telling him what he must look for if he did not subscribe among them. "the carpenter, being an honest fellow, did with much importunity prevail for one half hour's time to consider the matter; and returning to work upon the vessel, with a spy by them set upon him, he feigned himself taken with a fit of the collick, for the relief whereof he suddenly ran into the captain in the great cabin for a dram. where, when he came, his business was only in brief to tell the captain of the horrible distress which he has fallen into; but the captain bid him as briefly return to the rogues in the woods and sign their articles, and leave him to provide for the rest. "the carpenter was no sooner gone than captain phips, calling together the few friends that were left him aboard, whereof the gunner was one, demanded of them whether they would stand by him in this extremity, whereto they replied they would stand by him if he could save them, and he answered, 'by the help of god, he did not fear it.' all their provisions had been carried ashore to a tent made for that purpose, about which they had placed several great guns, to defend it in case of any assault from spaniards. wherefore captain phips immediately ordered those guns to be silently drawn and turned; and so pulling up the bridge, he charged his great guns aboard and brought them to bear on every side of the tent. "by this time the army of rebels came out of the woods; but as they drew near to the tent of provisions they saw such a change of circumstances that they cried out, _we are betrayed_! and they were soon confirmed in it when they heard the captain with a stern fury call to them, _stand off, ye wretches, at your peril_. he quickly cast them into more than ordinary confusion when they saw him ready to fire his great guns upon them. "and when he had signified unto them his resolve to abandon them unto all the desolation which they had proposed for him, he caused the bridge to be again laid, and his men began to take the provisions on board. when the wretches beheld what was coming upon them, they fell to very humble entreaties; and at last fell down upon their knees protesting that they never had anything against him, except only his unwillingness to go away with the king's ship upon the south sea design. but upon all other accounts they would choose rather to live and die with him than with any man in the world. however, when they saw how much he was dissatisfied at it, they would insist upon it no more, and humbly begged his pardon. and when he judged that he had kept them on their knees long enough, he having first secured their arms, received them aboard, but he immediately weighed anchor and arriving at jamaica, turned them off." this is a very proper incident to have happened in a hunt for hidden treasure, and cotton mather tells it well. one forgives phips for damning the eyes of the boston magistrates, and likely enough they deserved it, when it is recalled that the witchcraft trials were held only a few years later. having rid himself of the mutineers, captain phips shipped other scoundrels in their stead, there being small choice at jamaica where every other man had been pirating or was planning to go again. his first quest for treasure had been a failure, but he was not the man to quit, and so he filled away for hispaniola, now hayti and san domingo, where every bay and reef had a treasure story of its own. the small island of tortuga off that coast had long been the headquarters of the most successful pirates and buccaneers of those seas, and frederick a. ober, who knows the west indies as well as any living man, declares not only that cuba, the isle of pines, jamaica, and hispaniola are girdled with spanish wrecks containing "as yet unrecovered millions and millions in gold and silver," but also that "during the successive occupancies of tortuga by the various pirate bands great treasure was hidden in the forest, and in the caves with which the island abounds. now and again the present cultivators of tortuga find coins of ancient dates, fragments of gold chains, and pieces of quaint jewelry cast up by the waves or revealed by the shifting sands. "it was not without reason that the only harbor of the buccaneers was called treasure cove, nor for nothing that they dug the deep caves deeper, hollowing out lateral tunnels and blasting holes beneath the frowning cliffs. the island now belongs to hayti, the inhabitants of which have not the requisite sagacity to conduct an intelligent search for the long-buried treasures; and as they resent the intrusion of foreigners, it is probable that the buccaneers' spoils will remain an unknown quantity for many years to come." captain william phips lay at anchor off one of the rude settlements of hispaniola for some time, and his rough-and-ready address won him friends, among them "a very old spaniard" who had seen many a galleon pillaged by the pirates. from this informant phips "fished up a little advice about the true spot where lay the wreck which he had hitherto been seeking ... that it was upon a reef of shoals a few leagues to the northward of port de la plata upon hispaniola, a port so called, it seemed, from the landing of some of a shipwrecked company, with a boat full of plate saved out of their sunken frigot." ====================================================================== [illustration: map of hispaniola (hayti and san domingo) engraved in , showing the buccaneers at their trade of hunting wild cattle. the galleon due north of port plate on the north coast is almost exactly in the place where phips found his treasure.] ====================================================================== on the very old map of hispaniola, reproduced herewith, this place is indicated on the north coast as "port plate," and due north of it is the spirited drawing of a galleon which happens to be very nearly in the position of the sunken treasure which the old spaniard described to captain phips. the _rose_ frigate sailed in search of the reef and explored it with much care but failed to find the wreck. phips was confident that he was on the right track, however, and decided to return to england, refit and ship a new crew. the riff-raff which he had picked up at jamaica in place of the mutineers were hardly the lads to be trusted with a great store of treasure on board. at about this time, charles ii quit his earthly kingdom and it is to be hoped found another kind of treasure laid up for him. james ii needed all his warships, and he promptly took the _rose_ frigate from captain phips and set him adrift to shift for himself. a man of less inflexible resolution and courage might have been disheartened, but phips made a louder noise than ever with his treasure story, and would not budge from london. he was put in jail, somehow got himself out, and stood up to his enemies and silenced them, all the while seeking noble patrons with money to venture on another voyage. at length, and a year had been spent in this manner, phips interested the duke of albemarle, son of the famous general monk who had been active in restoring charles ii to the throne of the stuarts. several other gentlemen of the court took shares in the speculation, including a naval man, sir john narborough. they put up £ , to outfit a ship, and the king was persuaded to grant phips letters of patent, or a commission as a duly authorized treasure seeker, in return for which favor his majesty was to receive one-tenth of the booty. to phips was promised a sixteenth of what he should recover. this enterprise was conceived in , and was so singularly like the partnership formed ten years later to finance the cruise of captain kidd after pirates' plunder that the earl of bellomont, lord chancellor somers, the earl of shrewsbury, and william iii may have been somewhat inspired to undertake this unlucky venture by the dazzling success of the phips "syndicate." in a small merchantman called the _james and mary_, captain phips set sail from england in , having another vessel to serve as a tender. arriving at port de la plata, he hewed out a large canoe from a cotton-wood tree, "so large as to carry eight or ten oars," says cotton mather, "for the making of which perigua (as they call it), he did, with the same industry that he did everything else, employ his own hand and adze, and endure no little hardship, lying abroad in the woods many nights together." the canoe was used by a gang of native divers quartered on board the tender. for some time they worked along the edge of a reef called the boilers, guided by the story of that ancient spaniard, but found nothing to reward their exertions. this crew was returning to report to captain phips when one of the men, staring over the side into the wonderfully clear water, spied a "sea feather" or marine plant of uncommon beauty growing from what appeared to be a rock. an indian was sent down to fetch it as a souvenir of the bootless quest, that they might, however, carry home something with them. this diver presently bobbed up with the sea feather, and therewithal a surprising story "that he perceived a number of great guns in the watery world, where he had found the feather; the report of which great guns exceedingly astonished the whole company; and at once turned their despondencies for their ill success into assurances that they had now lit upon the true spot of ground which they had been looking for; and they were further confirmed in these assurances when upon further diving, the indian fetched up a _sow_ as they styled it, or a lump of silver worth perhaps two or three hundred pounds. upon this they prudently buoyed the place, that they might readily find it again; and they went back unto their captain whom for some while they distressed with nothing but such bad news as they formerly thought they must have carried him. nevertheless, they so slipped the sow of silver on one side under the table (where they were now sitting with the captain, and hearing him express his resolutions to wait still patiently upon the providence of god under these disappointments), that when he should look on one side, he might see that odd thing before him. at last he saw it and cried out with some agony: "'_what is this? whence comes this?_' and then with changed countenance they told him how and where they got it. then said he, '_thanks be to god! we are made!_' and so away they went, all hands to work; wherein they had this further piece of remarkable prosperity, that whereas if they had first fallen upon that part of the spanish wreck where the pieces of eight had been stowed in bags among the ballast, they had seen more laborious and less enriching times of it. now, most happily, they first fell upon that room in the wreck where the bullion had been stored up, and then so prospered in this new fishery that in a little while they had without the loss of any man's life, brought up _thirty two tons_ of silver, for it was now come to measuring silver by tons." while these jolly treasure seekers were hauling up the silver hand over fist, one adderley, a seaman of the new providence in the bahamas, was hired with his vessel to help in the gorgeous salvage operations. alas, after adderley had recovered six tons of bullion, the sight of so much treasure was too much for him. he took his share to the bermudas and led such a gay life with it that he went mad and died after a year or two. hard-hearted william phips was a man of another kind, and he drove his crew of divers and wreckers, the sailors keeping busy on deck at hammering from the silver bars a crust of limestone several inches thick from which "they knocked out whole bushels of pieces of eight which were grown thereinto. besides that incredible treasure of plate in various forms, thus fetched up from seven or eight fathoms under water, there were vast riches of gold, and pearls, and jewels, which they also lit upon: and indeed for a more comprehensive invoice, i must but summarily say, _all that a spanish frigot was to be enriched withal_." at length the little squadron ran short of provisions, and most reluctantly captain phips decided to run for england with his precious cargo and return the next year. he swore all his men to secrecy, believing that there was more good fishing at the wreck. during the homeward voyage, his seamen quite naturally yearned for a share of the profits, they having signed on for monthly wages. they were for taking the ship "to be gone and lead a short life and a merry one," but phips argued them out of this rebellious state of mind, promising every man a share of the silver, and if his employers would not agree to this, to pay them from his own pocket. up the thames sailed the lucky little merchantman, _james and mary_ in the year of , with three hundred thousand pounds sterling freightage of treasure in her hold, which would amount to a good deal more than a million and a half dollars nowadays. captain phips played fair with his seamen, and they fled ashore in the greatest good humor to fling their pieces of eight among the taverns and girls of wapping, limehouse, and rotherhite. the king was given his tenth of the cargo, and a handsome fortune it was. to phips fell his allotted share of a sixteenth, which set him up with sixteen thousand pounds sterling. the duke of albemarle was so much gratified that he sent to that "gentlewoman" mrs. william phips, a gold cup worth a thousand pounds. phips showed himself an honest man in age when sea morals were exceeding lax, and not a penny of the treasure, beyond what was due him, stuck to his fingers. men of his integrity were not over plentiful in england after the restoration, and the king liked and trusted this brusque, stalwart sailor from new england. at windsor castle he was knighted and now it was sir william phips, if you please. judge sewall's diary contains this entry, friday, october , : "i went to offer my lady phips my house by mr. moody's and to congratulate her preferment. as to the former, she had bought sam' wakefield's house and ground last night for £ . i gave her a gazette that related her husband's knighthood, which she had not seen before; and wish'd this success might not hinder her passage to a greater and better estate. she gave me a cup of good beer and thank'd me for my visit." sir william would have still another try at the wreck, and this time there was no lack of ships and patronage. a squadron was fitted out in command of sir john narborough, and one of the company was the duke of albemarle. they made their way to the reef, but the remainder of the treasure had been lifted, and the expedition sailed home empty-handed. adderley of new providence had babbled in his cups and one of his men had been bribed to take a party of bermuda wreckers to the reef. the place was soon swarming with all sorts of craft, some of them from jamaica and hispaniola, and they found a large amount of silver before they stripped the wreck clean. the king offered sir william a place as one of the commissioners of the royal navy, but he was homesick for new england and desired to be a person of consequence in his own land. his friends obtained for him a patent as high sheriff of massachusetts and he returned to boston after five years' absence "to entertain his lady with some accomplishment of his predictions; and then built himself a fair brick house in the very place which was foretold." the "fair brick house" was of two stories with a portico and columns. it stood on the corner of the present salem street (then the green lane) and charter street, so named by sir william phips in honor of the new charter under which he became the first provincial or royal governor. there was a lawn and gardens, a watch-house and stables, and a stately row of butternuts. "north boston" was then the fashionable or "court end" of the town. the puritans and pilgrims were seething with indignation against the royal government overseas. the original charter under which the colony of massachusetts bay exercised self-government had been annulled, and charles ii was determined to bring all the new england colonies under the sway of a royal governor. the question of taxation had also begun to simmer a full century before the revolution. sir william phips found his berth of high sheriff a difficult and turbulent business, and "the infamous government then rampant there, found a way wholly to put by the execution of his patent; yea, he was like to have had his person assassinated in the face of the sun, before his own door." this rough ship carpenter and treasure seeker weathered the storm and rose so high in the good graces of the throne that in he carried to massachusetts the new charter signed by william iii by virtue of which he became the first royal governor of that colony, and as an administrator he was no less interesting than when he was cruising off the coast of hispaniola. the manners of the quarterdeck he carried to the governor's office. his fists were as ready as his tongue, and his term of two years was enlivened by one lusty quarrel after another. in nowise ashamed of his humble beginnings, he gave a dinner to his old friends of the boston ship-yard and told these honest artisans that if it were not for his service to the people, he "would be much easier in returning to his broad axe again." hawthorne has given a picture of him in the days of his greatness, "a man of strong and sturdy frame, whose face has been roughened by northern tempests, and blackened by the burning sun of the west indies. he wears an immense periwig flowing down over his shoulders. his coat has a wide embroidery of golden foliage, and his waistcoat likewise is all flowered over and bedizened with gold. his red, rough hands, which have done many a good day's work with the hammer and adze, are half covered by the delicate lace ruffles at his wrists. on a table lies his silver-headed sword, and in a corner of the room stands his gold-headed cane, made of a beautifully polished west india wood." cotton mather helps to complete the presentment by relating that "he was very tall, beyond the common set of men, and thick as well as tall, and strong as well as thick. he was in all respects exceedingly robust, and able to conquer such difficulties of diet and travel as would have killed most men alive. nor did the fat whereinto he grew very much in his later years, take away the vigor of his motions." as a fighting seaman and soldier, sir william phips saw hard service before he was made royal governor. in he was in command of an expedition which made a successful raid on the french in arcadia, captured port royal, and conquered the province. among the english state papers in the public record office is his own account of this feat of arms of his expedition against quebec. "in march, ," he wrote, "i sailed with seven ships and seven hundred men, raised by the people of new england, reduced arcadia in three weeks and returned to boston. it was then thought well to prosecute a further expedition. men were raised, with whom and with about thirty ships i sailed from new england on the th, august, , but by bad weather and contrary winds did not reach quebec till october. the frost was already so sharp that it made two inches of ice in a night. "after summoning count de frontenac and receiving a reviling answer, i brought my ships up within musket shot of their cannon and fired with such success that i dismounted several of their largest cannon and beat them from their works in less than twenty-four hours. at the same time men, who had been landed, defeated a great part of the enemy, and by the account of the prisoners, the city must have been taken in two or three days, but the small-pox and fever increased so fast as to delay the pushing of the siege till the weather became too severe to permit it. on my leaving quebec, i received several messages from french merchants of the best reputation, saying how uneasy they were under french administration, and how willing they were to be under their majesties." ====================================================================== [illustration: permit issued by sir william phips as royal governor in which he uses the title "vice admiral" which involved him in disastrous quarrels.] ====================================================================== in a "narrative of the expedition against quebec," written at the time, is this passage: "whilst these things were doing on shore, sir wm. phips with his men of war came close up to ye city. he did acquit himself with ye greatest bravery. i have diligently enquired of those that know it who affirm there was nothing wanting in his part, either as to conduct or courage. he ventured within pistol shot of their cannon, and soon beat them from thence, and battered ye town very much. he was for some hours warmly entertained with their great guns. the vessel wherein sir william commanded had men. it was shot through in a hundred places with shot of twenty-four pound weight; yet through ye wonderful providence of god, but one man was killed and two mortally wounded in that hot engagement, which continued ye greatest part of ye night and ye next day several hours." another letter written by sir william phips, addressed from boston to william blathwayt, soon after he was made governor, shows him in a light even more engaging. the witchcraft frenzy was at its height, and only three weeks before this date, october , , fourteen men and women had been hanged in salem. this letter, as copied from the original document, runs as follows: "on my arrival i found this province miserably harrassed by a most horrible witchcraft or possession of devils, which had broken in upon several towns. some scores of poor people were taken with preternatural torments; some were scalded with brimstone; some had pins stuck into their flesh, others were hurried into fire and water, and some were dragged out of their houses and carried over the tops of trees and hills for many miles together. "it has been represented to me as much like that of sweden thirty years ago, and there were many committed to prison on suspicion of witchcraft before my arrival. the loud cries and clamor of the friends of the afflicted, together with the advice of the deputy governor and council, prevailed with me to appoint a court of oyer and terminer to discover what witchcraft might be at the bottom, and whether it were not a possession. the chief judge was the deputy governor, and the rest people of the best prudence and figure that could be pitched upon. "at salem in essex county they convicted more than twenty persons of witchcraft, and some of the accused confessed their guilt. the court, as i understand, began their proceedings with the accusations of the afflicted persons, and then went upon other evidences to strengthen that. i was in the east of the colony throughout almost the whole of the proceedings, trusting to the court as the right method of dealing with cases of witchcraft. but when i returned i found many persons in a strange ferment of dissatisfaction which was increased by some hot spirits that blew upon the flame. but on enquiry into the matter, i found that the devil had taken upon him the name and shape of several persons who were doubtless innocent, for which cause i have now forbidden the committal of any more accused persons. "and them that have been committed i would shelter from any proceedings wherein the innocent could suffer wrong. i would also await the king's orders in this perplexing affair. i have put a stop to the printing of any discourses on either side that may increase useless disputes, for open contests would mean an unextinguishable flame. i have been grieved to see that some who should have done better services to their majesties and this province have so far taken counsel with passion as to declare the precipitancy of these matters.... as soon as i had done fighting the king's enemies, and understood the danger of innocent people through the accusations of the afflicted, i put a stop to the court proceedings till the king's pleasure should be known." it was governor phips who suppressed the witchcraft persecutions and the special court that had passed so many wicked death sentences was shorn of its powers by his order. other prisoners were later acquitted, and a hundred and fifty released from jail. no sooner was this burly figure of a man finished with the witchcraft business than he was leading a force of indian allies against the french. "his birth and youth in the east had rendered him well known to the indians there," says cotton mather, "he had hunted and fished many a weary day in his childhood with them; and when these rude savages had got the story that he had found a ship full of money, and was now become all one a king, they were mightily astonished at it; but when they further understood that he was now become the governor of new england, it added a further degree of consternation to their astonishment." he was too strenuous a person, was this astonishing william phips, to remain tamed and conservative when there was no strong work in hand. with that gold-headed cane of his he cracked the head of the captain of the _nonesuch_ frigate of the royal navy, and with his hard fists he pounded the collector of the port after swearing at him with such oaths as better befitted a buccaneer than the governor of the province. these quarrels arose from a dispute over the authority of sir william to lay down the law as he pleased. by virtue of his commission as vice admiral of the colony he held that he had the right to judge and condemn naval prizes. the collector claimed jurisdiction and when he refused to deliver a cargo of plunder brought in by a privateer, the governor blacked his eyes for him. as for the naval skipper, captain short, his experience with the phips temper was even more disastrous. he refused to lend some of his men to man a cruiser which the governor wished to send after coastwise pirates. when next the twain met, captain short was first well threshed, then bundled off to prison, and from there skipped home to england in a merchantman. such methods of administration had served admirably well to rule those mutinous dogs of seamen aboard the _rose_ frigate, but they were resented in boston, and after other altercations, governor phips found it necessary to go to england to answer the complaints which had been piling up in the offices of the lords of the council of trade and plantations. he sailed in his own yacht, a brigantine built in a boston shipyard, and we may be sure that he was ready to face his accusers with a stout heart. hutchinson, in his history of massachusetts, analyzed the trouble as follows: "sir william phips' rule was short. his conduct when captain of a ship of war is represented very much to his advantage; but further talents were necessary for the good government of a province. he was of a benevolent, friendly disposition; at the same time quick and passionate.... "a vessel arrived from the bahamas, with a load of fustick, for which no bond had been given. col. foster, a merchant of boston, a member of the council, and fast friend of the governor, bought the fustick at such price that he was loth to give up the bargain. the collector seized the vessel and goods; and upon foster's representation to the governor, he interposed. there was at that time no court of admiralty. sir william took a summary way of deciding this case, and sent an order to the collector to forbear meddling with the goods, and upon his refusal to observe orders, the governor went to the wharf, and after warm words on both sides, laid hands upon the collector, but with what degree of violence was controverted by both. the governor prevailed, and the vessel and goods were taken out of the hands of the collector. "there had been a misunderstanding also between the governor and captain short of the _nonesuch_ frigate. in their passage from england a prize was taken; and short complained that the governor had deprived him of part of his share or legal interest in her. whether there were grounds for it does not appear. the captains of men of war stationed in the colonies were in those days required to follow such instructions as the governors gave them relative to their cruises and the protection of the trade of the colonies, and the governor, by his commission, had power in case of any great crime committed by any of the captains of men of war, to suspend them, and the next officer was to succeed. "the governor required captain short to order part of the men belonging to the _nonesuch_ upon some service, which i do not find mentioned, probably to some cruiser, there being many picaroons about the eastern coasts, but he refused to do it. this was ill taken by the governor; and meeting captain short in the street, warm words passed, and at length the governor made use of his cane and broke short's head. not content with this, he committed him to prison. the right of a governor to commit by his own warrant had not then been questioned. "from the prison he removed him to the castle, and from those on board a merchant bound to london, to be delivered to the order of one of their majesties' principal secretaries of state; giving the master a warrant or authority to do so. the vessel, by some accident, put into portsmouth in new hampshire. sir william who seems to have been sensible of some irregularity in these proceedings, went to portsmouth, required the master of the merchantman to return him the warrant, which he tore to pieces, and then ordered the cabin of the ship to be opened, secured short's chests, and examined the contents. "short was prevented going home in this vessel, and went to new york to take passage from thence for england; but sir f. wheeler arriving soon after at boston, went for him and carried him home with him. the next officer succeeded in the command of the ship, until a new captain arrived from england. short was restored to the command of as good a ship." king william refused to depose the famous treasure finder without hearing what he had to say in his defense, and sir william stoutly swore that those whom he had punished got no more than they deserved. a strong party had been mustered against him, however, and he waged an uphill fight for vindication until death, the one foe for whom he did not think himself a match, took him by the heels and laid him in a vault beneath the church of st. mary woolnoth, london. a guide-book of that city, published in , contained this description of the memorial placed therein: "at the east end of the church of st. mary woolnoth, near the northeast angle, is a pretty white marble monument, adorned with an urn between two cupids, the figure of a ship, and also a boat at sea, with persons in the water; these beheld by a winged eye, all done in basso relieve; also the seven medals, as that of king william and queen mary; some with spanish impressions, as the castle, cross-portent, etc. and likewise the figures of a sea quadrant; cross-staff, and this inscription: "'near this place is interred the body of sir william phips, knight; who in the year , by his great industry, discovered among the rocks near the banks of bahama on the north side of hispaniola a spanish plate-ship which had been under water years, out of which he took in gold and silver to the value of £ , sterling: and with a fidelity equal to his conduct, brought it all to london, where it was divided between himself and the rest of the adventurers. for which great service he was knighted by his then majesty, king james the nd, and at the request of the principal inhabitants of new england, he accepted of the government of the massachusetts, in which he continued up to the time of his death; and discharged his trust with that zeal for the interests of the country, and with so little regard to his own private advantage, that he justly gained the good esteem and affection of the greatest and best part of the inhabitants of that colony. "'he died the th of february, , and his lady, to perpetuate his memory, hath caused this monument to be erected.'" it is far better to know the man as he was, rough-hewn, hasty, unlettered, but simple and honest as daylight, than to accept the false and silly epitaph of cotton mather, that "he was a person of so sweet a temper that they who were most intimately acquainted with him would commonly pronounce him the best conditioned gentleman in the world." after he had wrested his fortune from the bottom of the sea in circumstances splendidly romantic, he used the power which his wealth gained for him wholly in the service of the people of his own country. during his last visit to london, when he had grown tired of being a royal governor, he harked back to his old love, and was planning another treasure voyage. "the spanish wreck was not the only nor the richest wreck which he knew to be lying under the water. he knew particularly that when the ship which had governor bobadilla aboard was cast away, there was, as peter martyr says, an entire table of gold of three thousand three hundred and ten pounds weight. and supposing himself to have gained sufficient information of the right way to such a wreck, it was his purpose upon his dismission from his government, once more to have gone upon his old fishing-trade, upon a mighty shelf of rocks and bank of sands that lie where he had informed himself." ====================================================================== [illustration: the oldest existing print of boston harbor as it appeared in the time of sir william phips, showing the kind of ships in which he sailed to find his treasure.] ====================================================================== never was there so haunting a reference to lost treasure as this mention of that gold table that went down with governor bobadilla. the words ring like a peal of magic bells. alas, the pity of it, that sir william phips did not live to fit out a brave ship and go in quest of this wondrous treasure, for of all men, then or since, he was the man to find it. bobadilla was that governor of hispaniola who was sent from spain in by ferdinand and isabella to investigate the affairs of the colony as administered by christopher columbus. he put columbus in chains and shipped him home, but the great discoverer found a friendly welcome there, and was sent back for his fourth voyage. he reached hispaniola on the day that bobadilla was sailing for spain, in his turn to give place to a new governor, ovando by name. bobadilla embarked at san domingo in the largest ship of the fleet on board of which was put an immense amount of gold, the revenue collected for the crown during his government, which he hoped might ease the disgrace of his recall. the spanish historian, las casas, besides other old chroniclers, mention this solid mass of virgin gold which peter martyr affirmed had been fashioned into a table. this enormous nugget had been found by an indian woman in a brook on the estate of francisco de garay and miguel diaz and had been taken by bobadilla to send to the king. according to las casas, it weighed three thousand, six hundred castellanos. when bobadilla's fleet weighed anchor, columbus sent a messenger urging the ships to remain in port because a storm was imminent. the pilots and seamen scoffed at the warning, and the galleons stood out from san domingo only to meet a tropical hurricane of terrific violence. off the most easterly point of hispaniola, bobadilla's ship went down with all on board. if this galleon carrying the gold table, besides much other treasure, had foundered in deep water, it is unlikely that sir william phips would have planned to go in search of her. if, however, the ship had been smashed on a reef, he may have "fished up" information from some other ancient spaniard as to her exact location. the secret was buried in his grave and he left no chart to show where he hoped to find that marvelous treasure, and nobody knows the bearings of that "mighty shelf of rock and bank of sands that lie where he had informed himself." [ ] in order to make easier reading, this and the following extracts from cotton mather's narrative are somewhat modernized in respect of quaint spelling, punctuation, and the use of capitals, although, of course, the wording is unchanged. chapter vi the bold sea rogue, john quelch the isles of shoals, lying within sight of portsmouth harbor on the new hampshire coast, are rich in buried treasure legends and rocky appledore is distinguished by the ghost of a pirate, "a pale and very dreadful specter," whose neck bears the livid mark of the hangman's noose. this is a ghost in whose case familiarity has bred contempt among the matter-of-fact islanders, for they call him "old bab" and employ him to frighten naughty children. drake's "nooks and corners of the new england coast" narrates in the proper melodramatic manner the best of these traditions. "among others to whom it is said these islands were known was the celebrated captain teach, or blackbeard, as he was often called. he is supposed to have buried immense treasure here, some of which has been dug up and appropriated by the islanders. on one of his cruises, while lying off the scottish coast waiting for a rich trader, he was boarded by a stranger who came off in a small boat from the shore. the visitor demanded to be led before the pirate chief in whose cabin he remained closeted for some time. at length blackbeard appeared on deck with the stranger whom he introduced as a comrade. the vessel they were expecting soon came in sight, and, after a bloody conflict, became the prize of blackbeard. the newcomer had shown such bravery that he was given command of the captured merchantman. "the stranger soon proved himself a pirate leader of great skill and bravery and went cruising off to the southward and the coasts of the spanish main. at last after his appetite for wealth had been satiated he sailed back to his native land of scotland, made a landing, and returned on board with the insensible body of a beautiful young woman in his arms. "the pirate ship then made sail, crossed the atlantic, and anchored in the roadstead of the isles of shoals. here the crew passed the time in secreting their riches and in carousing. the commander's portion was buried on an island apart from the rest. he roamed over the isles with his beautiful companion, forgetful, it would seem, of his fearful trade, until one day a sail was seen standing in for the islands. all was now activity on board the pirate; but before getting under way the outlaw carried the maiden to the island where he had buried his treasure, and made her take a fearful oath to guard the spot from mortals until his return, were it not 'til doomsday. "the strange sail proved to be a warlike vessel in search of the freebooter. a long and desperate battle ensued, in which the cruiser at last silenced her adversary's guns. the vessels were grappled for a last struggle when a terrible explosion strewed the sea with the fragments of both. stung to madness by defeat, knowing that if taken alive a gibbet awaited him, the rover had fired the magazine, involving friend and foe in a common fate. "a few mangled wretches succeeded in reaching the islands, only to perish miserably one by one, from hunger and cold. the pirate's mistress remained true to her oath to the last, or until she had succumbed to want and exposure. by report, she has been seen more than once on white island--a tall shapely figure, wrapped in a long sea cloak, her head and neck uncovered, except by a profusion of golden hair. her face is described as exquisitely rounded, but pale and still as marble. she takes her stand on the verge of a low, projecting point, gazing fixedly out upon the ocean in an attitude of intense expectation. a forager race of fishermen avouched that her ghost was doomed to haunt those rocks until the last trump shall sound, and that the ancient graves to be found on the islands were tenanted by blackbeard's men." it is more probable that whatever treasure may be hidden among the isles of shoals was hidden there by the shipmates of a great scamp of a pirate named john quelch who fills an interesting page in the early history of the massachusetts colony. in proof of this assertion is the entry in one of the old records of salem, written in the year : "major stephen sewall, captain john turner, and volunteers embark in a shallop and fort pinnace after sunset to go in search of some pirates who sailed from gloucester in the morning. major sewall brought into salem a galley, captain thomas lowrimore, on board of which he had captured some pirates, and some of their gold at the isle of shoals. major sewall carries the pirates to boston under a strong guard. captain quelch and five of his crew are hung. about of the ship's company remain under sentence of death and several more are cleared." by no means all of the bloodstained gold of quelch was recovered by this expedition which went to the isles of shoals and it is more likely to be hidden there to this day than anywhere else. quelch was a bold figure of a pirate worthy to be named in the company of the most dashing of his profession in the era of kidd, bradish, bellamy, and low. his story is worth the telling because it is, in a way, a sequel of the tragedy of captain kidd. in , the brigantine _charles_, of about eighty tons, owned by leading citizens and merchants of boston, was fitted out as a privateer to go cruising against the french off the coasts of arcadia and newfoundland. on july th of that year, her commander, captain david plowman, received his commission from governor dudley of the province to sail in pursuit of the queen's enemies and pirates, with other customary instructions. there was some delay in shipping a crew, and on the first of august the _charles_ was riding off marblehead when captain plowman was taken ill. he sent a letter to his owners, stating that he was unable to take the vessel to sea, and suggesting that they come on board next day and "take some speedy care in saving what we can." the owners went to marblehead, but the captain was too ill to confer with them. he was able, however, to write again, this time urging them to have the vessel carried to boston, and the arms and stores landed in order to "prevent embezzlement," and advising against sending the _charles_ on her cruise under a new commander, adding the warning that "it will not do with these people," meaning the crew then on board. before the owners could take any measures to safeguard their property, the brigantine had made sail and was standing out to sea, stolen by her crew. the helpless captain was locked in his cabin, and the new commander on the quarter-deck was john quelch who had planned and led the mutiny. instead of turning to the northward, the bow of the _charles_ was pointed for the south atlantic and the track of the spanish trade where there was rich pirating. somewhere in the gulf stream, poor captain plowman was dragged on deck and tossed overboard by order of quelch. a flag was then hoisted, called "old roger," described as having "in the middle of it an anatomy (skeleton) with an hourglass in one hand, and a dart in the heart with drops of blood proceeding from it in the other." when the coast of brazil was reached, quelch and his men drove a thriving trade. between november , , and february , , they boarded and took nine vessels, of which five were brigantines, and one a large ship carrying twelve guns. all these craft flew the portugese flag, and portugal was an ally of england by virtue of a treaty which had been signed at lisbon on may , . what became of the crews of these hapless vessels was not revealed, but the plunder included salt, sugar, rum, beer, rice, flour, cloth, silk, one hundred weight of gold dust, gold and silver coin to the value of a thousand pounds, two negro boys, great guns, small arms, ammunition, sails, and cordage. one of the largest of the brigantines was kept to serve as a tender. two weeks after the _charles_ had taken french leave from marblehead, her owners, surmising that she had been headed toward the west indies, persuaded governor dudley to take action, and letters were sent to officials in various islands instructing them to be on the look-out for the runaway privateer and to seize her crew as pirates. quelch was a wily rogue, however, and kept clear of all pursuit, nor was anything more heard of the _charles_ until with extraordinary audacity he came sailing back to new england in the following may and dropped anchor off marblehead. his men quickly scattered alongshore, and gave out the story which he had cooked up for them, that captain plowman had died of his illness while at sea, that quelch had been obliged to take command, and that they had recovered a great deal of treasure from the wreck of a spanish galleon. the yarn was fishy, the men talked too much in their cups, and the owners of the _charles_ were not satisfied with quelch's glib explanation. they laid information against him in writing, and the vessel was searched, the plunder indicating that the lawless crew had been lifting the goods of subjects of the king of portugal. the first mention of the affair in the _boston news-letter_ was in the issue for the week of may , : "arrived at marblehead, captain quelch in the brigantine that captain plowman went out in. is said to come from new spain and have made a good voyage." quelch was a good deal more of a man than captain kidd who skulked homeward, hiding his treasure, parleying with governor bellomont at long range, afraid to come to close quarters. a strutting, swaggering, villain was john quelch, daring to beard the lion in his den, trusting to his ability to deceive with the authorities. to have run away with a privateer, thrown the captain overboard, filled the hold with loot, and then sailed back to marblehead was no ordinary achievement. however, this truly artistic piracy was so coldly welcomed that a week after his arrival had been chronicled, he was in jail and the following proclamation issued: "by the honourable thomas povey, esq., lieut. governour and commander in chief, for the time being, of her majesties province of the massachusetts bay in new england. a proclamation whereas, john quelch, late commander of the brigantine _charles_ and company to her belonging, viz, john lambert, john miller, john clifford, john dorothy, james parrot, charles james, william whiting, john pitman, john templeton, benjamin perkins, william wiles, richard lawrance, erasmus peterson, john king, charles king, isaac johnson, nicholas lawson, daniel chevalle, john way, thomas farrington, matthew primer, anthony holding, william raynor, john quittance, john harwood, william jones, denis carter, nicholas richardson, james austin, james pattison, joseph hutnot, george pierse, george norton, gabriel davis, john breck, john carter, paul giddens, nicholas dunbar, richard thurbar, daniel chuly, and others; have lately imported a considerable quantity of gold dust, and some bar and coin'd gold, which they are violently suspected to have gotten and obtained by felony and piracy from some of her majesties friends and allies, and have imported and shared the same among themselves without any adjudication or condemnation thereof to be lawful prizes; the said commander and some others being apprehended and in custody, the rest are absconded and fled from justice. "i have therefore thought fit, by and with the advice of her majesties council, strictly to command and require all officers civil and military, and others her majesties loving subjects to apprehend and seize the said persons, or any of them, whom they may know or find, and them secure and their treasure, and bring them before one of the council, or next justice of the peace, in order to their being safely conveyed to boston, to be examined and brought to answer what shall be objected against them, on her majesties behalf. "and all her majesties subjects, and others, are hereby strictly forbidden to entertain, harbour, or conceal any of the said persons, or their treasure, or to convey away, or in any manner further the escape of any of them, on pain of being proceeded against with utmost severity of law, as accessories and partakers with them in their crime. given at the council chamber in boston the th day of may in the third year of the reign of our sovereign lady anne, by the grace of god of england, scotland, france, and ireland, queen, defender of the faith, etc. annoque domi. . t. povey. by order of the lieut. governor and council, isaac addington, secr. god save the queen." the editor of _the boston news-letter_, commenting on the foregoing fulmination, saw fit to qualify his previous mention of quelch's voyage, and announced under date of may : "our last gave an account of captain quelch's being said to arrive from n. spain, having made a good voyage, but by the foregoing proclamation 'tis uncertain whence they came, and too palpably evident they have committed piracies, either upon her majesties subjects or allies.... william whiting lyes sick, like to dye, not yet examined. there are two more of them sick at marble head, and another in salem gaol, and james austin imprisoned at piscataqua." ====================================================================== [illustration: an ancient map of jamaica showing the haunts of the pirates and the track of the treasure galleons.] ====================================================================== as soon as governor dudley returned to boston, a few days later, he issued a proclamation to reinforce that of the lieutenant governor, and one paragraph indicated that the case of john quelch was moving swiftly toward the gallows. "and it being now made evident by the confession of some of the said persons apprehended and examined, that the gold and treasure by them imported was robb'd and taken from the subject of the crown of portugal, on which they have also acted divers villainous murders, i have thought fit," etc. it was believed that several of the crew had scampered off with a large amount of the treasure, for governor dudley laid great stress on overhauling sundry of them, mentioned by name, "with their treasure concealed." in his speech at the opening of the general court on june , he stated: "the last week has discovered a very notorious piracy, committed upon her majesties allies, the portugal, on the coast of brazil, by quelch and company, in the _charles galley_; for the discovery of which all possible methods have been used, and the severest process against those vile men shall be speedily taken, that the province be not thereby disparaged, as they have been heretofore; and i hope every good man will do his duty according to the several proclamations to discover the pirates and their treasure, agreable to the acts of parliament in that case made and provided." dudley was as energetic in pursuit of the runaway pirates as bellomont had been, and the _news-letter_ recorded his activities in this wise: "warrants are issued forth to seize and apprehend captain larimore in the _larimore galley_, who is said to have sailed from cape anne with or pirates of captain quelch's company." "there is two more of the pirates seized this week and in custody viz. benjamin perkins, and john templeton." "rhode island, june . the honorable samuel cranston, esq., governour of her majesties colony of rhode island, etc., having received a proclamation emitted by his excellency joseph dudley, esq. general and gov. in chief in and over her majesties province of the mass. bay, etc., for seizing and apprehending the late company of pirates belonging to the briganteen _charles_, of whom john quelch was commander, by and with the advice of the deputy governour and council present, issued forth his further proclamation to seize and apprehend said pirates, or any of their treasure, and to bring them before one of the council, or next justice of the peace, in order to be conveyed to the town of newport, to be examined and proceeded with according to law. commanding the sheriff to publish this and his excellencies proclamation in the town of new-port, and in other towns of the colony. strictly forbidding all her majesties subjects and others to conceal any of them or their treasure, or convey and further their escape, on pain of being proceeded against with utmost severity of law." "marblehead, june . the honorable samuel sewall, nathanael byfield, and paul dudley, esqrs. came to this place yesterday, in obedience to his excellency the governour, his order for the more effectual discovering and seizing the pirates lately belonging to the briganteen _charles_, john quelch commander, with their treasure. they made salem in their way, where samuel wakefield the water baily informed them of a rumour that two of quelch's company were lurking at cape anne, waiting for a passage off the coast. the commissioners made out a warrant to wakefield to search for them, and dispatched him away on wednesday night. and having gain'd intelligence this morning that a certain number of them well armed, were at cape anne, designing to go off in the _larimore galley_, then at anchor in the harbour, they immediately sent men from the several adjacent towns by land and water to prevent their escape, and went thither themselves, to give necessary orders upon the place." "gloucester, upon cape anne, june . the commissioners for seizing the pirates and their treasure arrived here this day, were advised that the _larimore galley_ sail'd in the morning eastward, and that a boat was seen to go off from the head of the cape, near snake island, full of men, supposed to be the pirates. the commissioners, seeing the government mock'd by captain larimore and his officers, resolved to send after them. major stephen sewall who attended with a fishing shallop, and the fort pinnace, offered to go in pursuit of them, and captain john turner, mr. robert brisco, capt. knight, and several other good men voluntarily accompanied him, to the number of men who rowed out of the harbour after sun-sett, being little wind." "salem, june . this afternoon major sewall brought into this port the _larimore galley_ and seven pirates, viz., erasmus peterson, charles james, john carter, john pitman, francis king, charles king, john king, whom he with his company surprized and seized at the isles of sholes the th. instant viz. four of them on board the _larimore galley_, and three on shoar on starr island, being assisted by john hinckes and thomas phipps, esqrs., two of her majesties justices of new hampshire, who were happily there, together with the justices and the captain of the place. he also seized ounces and seven penny weight of gold of the said pirates. captain thomas larimore, joseph wells, lieutenant, and daniel wormall, master, and the said pirates are secured in our gaol." "gloucester, june . yesterday major sewall passed by this place with the _larimore galley_ and shallop _trial_ standing for salem, and having little wind, set our men ashore on the eastern point, giving of them notice that william jones and peter roach, two of the pirates had mistook their way, and were still left at the cape, with strict charge to search for them, which our towns people performed very industriously. being strangers and destitute of all succours, they surrendered themselves this afternoon, and were sent to salem prison." "boston, june . on the th. instant, major sewall attended with a strong guard brought to town the above mentioned pirates and gold he had seized and gave his excellency a full account of his procedure in seizing them. the prisoners were committed to gaol in order to a tryal, and the gold delivered to the treasurer and committee appointed to receive the same. the service of major sewall and company was very well accepted and rewarded by the governour. "his excellency was pleased on the currant to open the high court of admiralty for trying capt. john quelch, late commander of the briganteen _charles_, and company for piracy, who were brought to the barr, and the articles exhibited against them read. they all pleaded not guilty, excepting three, viz. matthew primer, john clifford, and james parrot, who were reserved for evidences and are in her majesties mercy. the prisoners moved for council, and his excellency assigned them mr. james meinzes. the court was adjourned to the th. when met again capt. quelch preferr'd a petition to his excellency and honorable court, craving longer time which was granted till monday morning at nine of the clock, when said court is to sit again in order to their tryal." newspaper reporting was primitive in the year of our lord, , and we are denied further information of the merry chase after the fleeing pirates and their treasure. one would like to know more of that adventure at the isles of shoals and what the fugitives were doing "on shoar" at starr island. the trial of quelch and his companions was recorded with much more detail because it had certain important and memorable aspects. it will be recalled that kidd and his men were sent to england for trial by bellomont for the reason that the colonial laws made no provision for executing the death sentence in the case of a convicted pirate. the difficulties and delays and the large expense incident to the kidd proceedings were among the considerations which moved parliament, by an act passed in the reign of william iii, to confer upon the crown authority to issue commissions for the trial of pirates by courts of admiralty out of the realm. such a commission was finally sent to lord bellomont for the trial of pirates in massachusetts, new hampshire, and rhode island. another document of the same kind, granting him this power for new york, arrived there after his death. these rights were confirmed by queen anne, and in her instructions to governor dudley she expressed "her will and pleasure that in all matters relating to the prosecution of pirates, he govern himself according to the act and commission aforesaid." the trial of quelch was the first to be held by virtue of these authorizations, and therefore the first capital proceedings against pirates in the new england colonies. a special court was convened, and an imposing tribunal it was, comprising the governors and lieutenant governors of the provinces of massachusetts bay, and new hampshire, the judge of vice admiralty in each, the chief justices of the superior court of judicature, the secretary of the province, members of the council of massachusetts bay, and the collector of customs for new england. the sessions were held in the star tavern, on the present hanover street of boston, and quelch was tried first, "being charged with nine several articles of piracy and murder." he was very expeditiously found guilty and sentenced to death, after which nineteen of his company, in two batches, were dealt the same verdict. from this wholesale punishment only two were excepted, william whiting, "the witnesses proving no matter of fact upon him, said whiting being sick all the voyage and not active," and john templeton, "a servant about fourteen years of age, and not charged with any action." these were acquitted. there are preserved only two copies of a broadside published in boston in july of which quaintly portrays the strenuous efforts made to save the souls of the condemned pirates who must have been men of uncommonly stout endurance to stand up under the sermons with which they were bombarded. this little pamphlet may serve as a warning to venturesome boys of the twentieth century who yearn to go a-pirating and to bury treasure. an account of the behaviour and last dying speeches of the six pirates that were executed on charles river, boston side, on fryday, june th. . viz. captain john quelch, john lambert, christopher scudamore, john miller, erasmus peterson, and peter roach. the ministers of the town had used more than ordinary endeavours to instruct the prisoners, and bring them to repentance. there were sermons preached in their hearing every day; and prayers daily made with them. and they were catechised; and they had many occasional exhortations. and nothing was left that could be done for their good. on fryday, the th of june, , pursuant to orders in the dead warrant, the aforesaid pirates were guarded from the prison in boston by forty musketeers, constables of the town, the provost marshal and his officers, etc, with two ministers who took great pains to prepare them for the last article of their lives. being allowed to walk on foot through the town, to scarlet's wharf: where the silver oar being carried before them, they went by water to the place of execution being crowded and thronged on all sides by multitudes of spectators. the ministers then spoke to the malefactors to this effect: "we have told you often, yea, we have told you weeping, that you have by sin undone yourselves; that you were born sinners; that you have lived sinners; that your sins have been many and mighty; and that the sins for which you are now to dy, are of no common aggravation. we have told you that there is a saviour for sinners, and we have shewn you how to commit yourselves into his saving and healing hands. we have told you that if he save you he will give you as hearty repentance for all your sins, and we have shewn you how to express that repentance. we have told you what marks of life must be desired for your souls, that you may safely appear before the judgment seat of god. oh! that the means used for your good may by the grace of god be made effectual. we can do no more, but leave you in his merciful hands." when they were gone upon the stage, and silence was commanded, one of the ministers prayed as followeth: "oh! thou most great and glorious lord! thou art a righteous and a terrible god. it is a righteous and an holy law that thus hast given unto all, but what would soon have done the worst things in the world. oh! the free-grace! oh! the riches of that grace, which has made all the difference! but now, we cry us. to break that good law, and sin against thy infinite majesty can be no little evil. thy word is always true, and very particular, that word of thine which has told us and warned us, evil pursueth sinners. we have seen it, we have seen it. we have before our eyes a dreadful demonstration of it. oh! sanctify unto us, a sight that has in it so much of the terror of the lord! "here is a number of men that have been very great sinners, and that are to dy before their time, for their being wicked overmuch. "... but now we cry mightily to heaven, we lift up our cries to the god of all grace, for the perishing souls which are just now going to expire under the stroke of justice, before our eyes. we mourn, we mourn, that upon some of them at least, we do unto this minute see no better symptoms. but, oh! is there not yet a room for sovereign grace to be display'd, in their conversion and salvation? they perish if they do not now sincerely turn from sin to god, and give themselves up to the lord jesus christ; they righteously and horribly perish! and yet, without influences from above, they can do none of those things which must be done if they do not perish. oh! let us beg it of our god that he would not be so provoked at their multiplied and prodigious impieties, and at their obstinate hardness under means of good formerly afforded them, as to withhold those influences from them. we cry to thee, o god of all grace, that thou wouldst not suffer them to continue in the gall of bitterness and bond of iniquity, and in the possession of the devil. oh! knock off the chains of death which are upon their souls; oh! snatch the prey out of the hands of the terrible. "... discover to them, the only saviour of their souls. oh! dispose them, oh! assist them to give the consent of their souls unto his wonderful proposals. let them dy renouncing all dependence on any righteousness of their own. alas, what can they have of their own to depend upon! as a token and effect of their having accepted the righteousness of god, let them heartily repent of all their sins against thee, and abhor and cast up every morsel of their iniquity. oh! let them not go out of the world raging and raving against the justice of god and man. and whatever part of the satanick image is yet remaining on their souls, oh! efface it! let them now dy in such a state and such a frame as may render them fit to appear before god the judge of all. what shall plead for them? "great god grant that all the spectators may get good by the horrible spectacle that is now before them! let all the people hear and fear, and let no more any such wickedness be done as has produced this woeful spectacle. and let all the people beware how they go on in the ways of sin, and in the paths of the destroyer, after so solemn warnings. "oh! but shall our _sea-faring tribe_ on this occasion be in a singular manner affected with the warnings of god! lord, may those our dear bretheren be saved from the temptations which do so threaten them! oh! let them not abandon themselves to profanity, to swearing, to cursing, to drinking, to lewdness, to a cursed forgetfulness of their maker, and of the end for which he made them! oh! let them not be abandoned of god unto those courses that will hasten them to a damnation that slumbers not! oh! let the men hear the lord exceedingly, we pray thee! let the condition of the six or seven men whom they now see dying for their wickedness upon the sea be sanctified unto them...." they then severally spoke, viz. --i--_captain john quelch_. the last words he spoke to one of the ministers at his going up the stage were, _i am not afraid of death. i am not afraid of the gallows, but i am afraid of what follows; i am afraid of a great god, and a judgment to come_. but he afterwards seem'd to brave it out too much against that fear; also when on the stage first he pulled off his hat, and bowed to the spectators, and not concerned, nor behaving himself so much like a dying man as some would have done. the ministers had in the way to his execution much desired him to glorify god at his death, by bearing a due testimony against the sins that had ruined him, and for the ways of religion which he had much neglected; yet now being called upon to speak what he had to say, it was but this much. _what i have to say is this. i desire to be informed for what i am here. i am condemned only upon circumstances. i forgive all the world. so the lord be merciful to my soul_. when _lambert_ was warning the spectators to beware of bad company, _quelch_ joyning _they should also take care how they brought money into new england, to be hanged for it!_ --ii--_john lambert_. he appeared much hardened, and pleaded much on his innocency; he desired all men to beware of bad company; he seem'd in a great agony near his execution; he called much and frequently on christ for pardon of sin, that god almighty would save his innocent soul; he desired to forgive all the world. his last words were, _lord, forgive my soul! oh, receive me into eternity! blessed name of christ, receive my soul_. --iii--_christopher scudamore_. he appeared very penitent since his condemnation, was very diligent to improve his time going to, and at the place of execution. --iv--_john miller_. he seem'd much concerned, and complained of a great burden of sins to answer for; expressing often _lord, what shall i do to be saved_! --v--_erasmus peterson_. he cryed of injustice done him, and said _it is very hard for so many lives to be taken away for a little gold_. he often said his peace was made with god, and his soul would be with god, yet extream hard to forgive those he said had wronged him. he told the executioner, _he was a strong man, and prayed to be put out of misery as soon as possible_. --vi--_peter roach_. he seem'd little concerned, and said but little or nothing at all. francis king was also brought to the place of execution but repriev'd. printed for and sold by nicholas boone, at his shop near the old meeting-house in boston. . advertisement. there is now in the press and will speedily be published: the arraignment, tryal and condemnation of captain john quelch, and others of his company etc. for sundry piracies, robberies and murder committed upon the subjects of the king of portugal, her majesties allie, on the coast of brasil etc. who upon full evidence were found guilty at the court-house in boston on the th of june . with the arguments of the queen's council and council for the prisoners, upon the act for the more effectual suppression of piracy. with an account of the ages of the several prisoners, and the places where they were born. the _news-letter_ was less inclined to vouch for the pious inclinations of these poor wretches, and gravely stated that "notwithstanding all the great labour and pains taken by the reverend ministers of the town of boston, ever since they were first seized and brought to town, both before and since their tryal and condemnation, to instruct, admonish, preach, and pray for them: yet as they had led a wicked and vicious life, so to appearance they dyed very obdurately and impenitently, hardened in their sins." be that as it may, the figure of bold john quelch on the gallows, bowing to the spectators, hat in hand, was that of no whimpering coward, and one admires him for that grimly sardonic touch of humor as he warned the silent, curious multitude to take care "how they brought money into new england, to be hanged for it." among these devout and somber pilgrims and puritans who listened to that singularly moving prayer, tremendous in its sincerity, were more than a few who were bringing money into new england by means of trade in rum and negroes, or very quietly buying and selling the merchandise fetched home by pirates who were lucky enough to keep clear of the law. the massachusetts colonists dearly loved to make public parade of a rogue caught in the act, and to see six pirates hanged at once was a rare holiday indeed. these only of the number convicted and condemned were hanged. all the others were pardoned a year later by queene anne at the recommendation of governor dudley, with the exhortation "that as they had now new lives given them, they should be new men, and be very faithful and diligent in the service of her majesty; who might as easily and justly have ordered their execution this day as sent their pardon." as one way of turning pirates to some useful account, these forgiven rogues were promptly drafted into the royal navy as able seamen, and doubtless made excellent food for powder. although a large part of that hundred weight of gold was successfully concealed by quelch and his comrades, either buried at the isles of shoals, or otherwise spirited away, enough of it was recovered to afford a division of the spoils among various officials in a manner so suggestive of petty graft as to warrant the conclusion that piracy was not entirely a maritime trade in puritan boston. every man jack of them who had anything whatever to do with catching or keeping or hanging quelch and his fellows poked his fingers into the bag of gold. it seems like very belated muck-raking to fish up the document that tells in detail what became of so much of the quelch treasure as fell into the greedy hands of the authorities, but here are the tell-tale figures: "to stephen north, who kept the star tavern in which the trial was held, for entertainment of the commissioners during the sitting of the court of admiralty, and for witnesses, twenty-eight pounds, eleven shillings, and six pence. "to lieut. gov. usher, expenses in securing and returning of james austin's gold from the province of new hampshire, three pounds, ten shillings. "to richard jesse, sheriffe of new hampshire and his officers and under keeper, for charge of keeping the said austin, expenses in his sickness, and charge of conveying him into this province, nine pounds, five shillings. "to mr. james menzies of council for the prisoners on their tryal, as signed by the commissioners, twenty pounds. "to henry franklyn, marshal of the admiralty for the gibbet, guards, and execution, twenty-nine pounds, nineteen shillings. later forty shillings added to thomas barnard for erecting the gibbet. "to samuel wakefield, deputy marshal of the admiralty, for charges in apprehending several of the said pirates, four pounds, five shillings and six pence. "to mr. apthorp and mr. jesse, two of the constables of boston for their service about apprehending the said pirates, forty shillings. "to the constables of the several towns betwixt bristol and boston for apprehending and conveying of christopher scudamore, two pounds, eighteen shillings. "to captain edward brattle, charges on a negro boy imported by the said pirates, twenty five shillings. "to andrew belcher, esq., charges for clothing of the witnesses sent to england with larrimore and wells, charged as accessories, seven pounds, eighteen shillings. "to paul dudley, esq., the queen's advocate for the prosecution of the said pirates, preparing the said tryal for the press, supervising of the same, and for his service relating to captain larrimore, in the whole, thirty-six pounds. "to thomas newton, esq. of council for the queen in the said tryal, ten pounds. "to mr. john valentine, register, for his service on the tryal and for transcribing them to be transmitted to her majesty's high court of admiralty in england, thirteen pounds. "to mr. sheriffe dyer, for his service relating to the said prisoners, five pounds. "to wm. clarke of boston, for casks, shifting and landing the sugar and other things piratically and feloniously obtained by captain quelch and company, and for storage of them, thirteen pounds. "to daniel willard, keeper of the prison in boston, toward the charge of feeding and keeping of the said pirates, thirty pounds. "to andrew belcher, the commissary-general, an additional sum of five pounds nine shillings and six pence for necessary clothing supplied to some of the pirates in prison. "to major james sewall for his pursuit and apprehension of seven of the pirates, and for the gratification of himself, captain turner, and other officers, one hundred and thirty-two pounds, five shillings." ====================================================================== [illustration: the town and bay of tobermory, island of mull. the treasure galleon is supposed to have gone down in the place indicated by the cross at the right hand side of the photograph.] ====================================================================== the commissioners, sewall, byfield and paul dudley, received for their expenses and services, twenty-five pounds, seven shillings, and ten pence. finally, there were given to the captains of the several companies of militia in the town for boston, "for their charges and expenses on guards and watches on the pirates during their imprisonment, twenty-seven pounds, sixteen shillings, and three pence: to captain tuthill, for his assistance to secure and bring about the vessel and goods from marblehead, five pounds; to mr. jeremiah allen, the treasurer's bookkeeper, for his care and service about the said gold and goods, five pounds; to constable apthorp and jesse, for their services, a further allowance of three pounds." the amount of the "royal bounty" given the governor as his share of the pirates' booty, is not recorded. if the belief of those of their contemporaries who best know the dudleys may be relied on, the fees and emoluments officially awarded them were by no means the extent of the profits from their dealings with the pirates and their treasure. when cotton mather quarreled with governor dudley a few years later he did not hesitate to intimate this charge pretty broadly in the following passage in his memorial on dudley's administration: "there have been odd _collusions_ with the pyrates of quelch's company, of which one instance is, that there was extorted the sum of about thirty pounds from some of the crew for liberty to walk at certain times in the prison yard. and this liberty having been allowed for two or three days unto them, they were again confined to their former wretched circumstances." chapter vii the armada galleon of tobermory bay between the western highlands of scotland and the remote, cloudy hebrides lies the large island of mull on a sound of that name. its bold headlands are crowned with the ruins of gray castles that were once the strongholds of the clans of the macleans and the macdonalds. along these shores and waters one generation after another of kilted fighting men, savage as red indians, raided and burned and slew in feuds whose memories are crowded with tragedy and romance. near where mull is washed by the atlantic and the sound opens toward the thoroughfares of the deep-sea shipping is the pleasant town of tobermory, which in the gaelic means mary's well. the bay that it faces is singularly beautiful, almost landlocked, and of a depth sufficient to shelter a fleet. into this bay of tobermory there sailed one day a great galleon of spain, belonging to that mighty armada which had been shattered and driven in frantic flight by english seamen with hearts of oak under drake, hawkins, howard, seymour, and martin frobisher, names to make the blood beat faster even now. the year was , in the reign of elizabeth, long, long, ago. this fugitive galleon, aforetime so tall and stately and ornate, was racked and leaking, her painted sails in tatters, her spanish sailors sick, weary, starved, after escaping from the english channel and faring far northward around the stormy orkneys. many of her sister ships had crashed ashore on the irish coast while the surviving remnant of this magnificent flotilla wallowed forlornly home. seeking provisions, repairs, respite from the terrors of the implacable ocean the galleon _florencia_ dropped anchor in tobermory bay, and there she laid her bones. with her, it is said, was lost a great store of treasure in gold and plate, and ever since , for more than two and a half centuries, the search for these riches has been carried on at intervals. more than likely, if you should go in one of donald macbrayne's steamers through the sound of mull next summer, and a delightful excursion it is, you would find an up-to-date suction dredge and a corps of divers, employed by the latest syndicate to finance the treasure hunt, ransacking the mud of tobermory bay in the hope of finding the spanish gold of the _florencia_. many thousands have been vainly spent in the quest, but the lure of lost treasure has a fascination of its own, and after all the failure of scotch and english seekers, american enterprise and capital have now taken hold of this romantic task. with the history of the _florencia_ galleon and her treasure is intimately interwoven the stirring chronicle of the deeds of the macleans of mull and the macdonalds of islay and skye. out of the echoing past, the fanfare of spanish trumpets is mingled with the skirl of the pipes, and the rapier of toledo flashes beside the claymore of the highlanders. the story really begins long before the doomed galleon sought refuge in tobermory bay. there were island chieftains of the clan maclean, busy at cutting the throats of their enemies, as far remote in time as the thirteenth century, but their turbulent pedigrees need not concern our narrative until the warlike figure of lachlan mo'r maclean, "big lachlan," steps into its pages in the year of . it was then that he came of age and set out from the court of james vi at edinburgh, where he had been brought up, to claim his inherited estates of mull. his wicked step-father, hector, met him in the castle of duart whose stout walls and battlements still loom not far from tobermory and tried to set him aside with false and foolish words. the astute youth perceived that if he were to come into his own, he must be up and doing, wherefore he speedily mustered friends and led them into castle duart by night. they carried this scheming step-father to the island of coll and there beheaded him, which made lachlan's title clear to the lands of his ancestors. the next to mistake the mettle of young lachlan mo'r was no less than colin campbell, sixth earl of argyll, head of a family very powerful in the highlands even to this day. he was for seizing the estate by force after plotting to no purpose, and angus macdonald of dunyweg was persuaded to help him with several hundred fighting men. thus began the feud between the macleans and macdonalds which a few years later was to involve that great galleon _florencia_ of the armada. argyll and his force wasted the lands of lachlan with fire and sword, and besieged one of his strongholds with twelve hundred followers. war thus begun was waged without mercy, and one bloody episode followed on the heels of another. at the head of his clansmen, lachlan swept into argyle's country and made him cry quits. this was a large achievement, and the spirited young lord of duart was hailed as a highland chief worthy of the king's favor. he went to court, was flattered by the great men there, and became the hero of as pretty and gallant a romance as heart could wish. the king arranged that he should marry the daughter of the powerful earl of athol, and lachlan could not say his sovereign nay. the contract arranged, he started for mull to make ready for the wedding, but chanced to visit on the way william cunningham, earl of glencairn, at his castle overlooking the clyde. cards were played to while away the evening, and lachlan's partner was one of the daughters of the host. it so happened that the game was changed and the players again cut for partners. at this another daughter, the fair margaret cunningham, whispered to her sister that if the handsome highland chief had been _her_ partner, "she would not have hazarded the loss of him by cutting anew." lachlan overheard the compliment, as perhaps he was meant to do, and so far as he was concerned hearts were trumps from that moment. he wooed and won margaret cunningham and married her forthwith. the king was greatly offended but what cared this happy man! he carried his bride to duart and laughed at his foes. the quiet life at home was not for him, however. soon he was playing the game of the sword with the macdonalds of islay until a truce was patched by means of a marriage between the clans. there was peace for a time, but the trouble blazed anew over the matter of some lifted cattle, and they were at it again hammer-and-tongs. the royal policy seems to have been to permit these highland gamecocks to fight each other so long as they were fairly well matched. in this case the various macdonalds combined in such numbers against lachlan maclean that the king interfered and persuaded them to seek terms of reconciliation. accordingly the lord of the macdonalds journeyed to duart castle with his retinue of bare-legged gentlemen and was hospitably received. lachlan was canny as well as braw, and he clinched the terms of peace by first locking the visitors in a room whose walls were some twenty feet thick, and then holding as hostages the two young sons of angus macdonald. the high-tempered macdonald was naturally more exasperated than pacified, and he turned the tables when lachlan soon after went to islay to receive performance of the promises made touching certain lands in dispute. the highland code of honor was peculiar in that treachery appears to have been a weapon used without scruple. the macdonalds swore that not a maclean should suffer harm, but no sooner had lachlan and his clansmen and servants arrived than they were attacked at night by a large force. the party would have been put to the sword, but that lachlan rushed into the midst of the foe holding aloft one of macdonald's sons as a shield. this caused postponement of the slaughter, macdonald offering quarter if his child should be delivered to him. the macleans were disarmed and bound, except two young men who had distinguished themselves by laying many a macdonald low in the heather. these were beheaded at once, and beginning next morning two macleans were led out and executed each day in the presence of their own chief until no more than lachlan and his uncle were left. they were spared only because the sanguinary angus macdonald fell from his horse and was badly hurt before he could finish his program. ====================================================================== [illustration: duart castle, chief stronghold of the macleans.] ardnamurchan castle, seat of the macians and the macdonalds. ====================================================================== it would be tiresome to relate much more of this ensanguined, interminable game of give and take which was the chief business of the highland clans in that century. the clan of the macians whose seat was at ardnamurchan castle on mull later sided actively with the macdonalds and the feud became three-cornered. lachlan mo'r maclean was no petty warrior, and his men were numbered by the thousand when he was in the prime of his power. once he fell upon the island of islay and put to the sword as many as five hundred of his foes, "all the men capable of bearing arms belonging to the clan-donald," says an old account. angus himself was chased into his castle and forced to give over half of islay to lachlan to save his skin. now, indeed, was there a mustering of the macdonalds from near and far to invade mull. they gathered under the chiefs of kintyre, skye and islay, with the lesser clans under macneil of gigha, the macallisters of loupe, and the macphees of colonsay. bold lachlan mo'r maclean was outnumbered, but a singular stroke of luck enabled him to win a decisive battle. that macdonald who was called the red knight of sleat, was much disturbed and shaken by a dream in which a voice chanted a very doleful prophecy of which this is a sample: "dire are the deeds the fates have doomed on thee! defeated by the sons of gillean the invading host shall be. on thee, gearna-dubh,[ ] streams of blood shall flow; and the bold red knight shall die ere a sword is sheathed." this message caused the red knight to sound the retreat soon after the fray began, and his example spread panic among the force which broke and ran for their boats, and the best macdonald was he who first reached the beach. the claymores of the macleans hewed them down without mercy and their heads were chopped off and thrown into a well which has since borne a gaelic name descriptive of the event. it would seem that these clans must have exterminated each other by this time, but the bleak moors and rocky slopes of these western islands bore a wonderful crop of fighting men, and soon the macleans were invading the coast of lorn and spreading havoc among the macdonalds with great slaughter. lachlan found time also to seek vengeance on the macians for daring to meddle in his affairs. john macian, chief of that smaller clan which owed fealty to the macdonalds, had been a suitor for the hand of lachlan mo'r maclean's mother, who was a sister of the earl of carlyle, and had a fortune in her own right. now the macian renewed his attentions, and lachlan looked on grimly, aware that the motive was greed of gold and lands. his mother gave her consent but her two-fisted son made no objection until the macian came to mull to claim his bride. the marriage was performed in the presence of lachlan and his most distinguished retainers, and there was a feast and much roaring conviviality. in the evening, the company being hot with wine, a rash macian brought up the matter of the recent feud and a pretty quarrel was brewed in a twinkling. several of the macians boasted that their chief had wed "the old lady" for the sake of her wealth. "drunkards ever tell the truth," flung back a maclean with which he plunged a dirk into the heart of the tactless guest. instantly the swords were flashing, and hardly a macian came alive out of the banqueting hall. lachlan missed this mêlée, for some reason or other, but coming on the scene a little later he quoted in the gaelic a proverb which means, "if the fox rushes upon the hounds he must expect to be torn." his followers took it that he felt no sorrow at the fate of the macians, and forthwith they rushed into the chamber of the bridegroom, dragged him forth, and would have dispatched him, but the lamentations of lachlan's mother for once moved her rugged son to pity, and he contented himself with throwing the chief of the macians into the dungeon of duart castle. this happened in the summer of , and affairs were in this wise when the galleon _florencia_ came sailing into tobermory bay. her captain, don pareira, was a fiery sea-fighter whom misfortune had not tamed. these savage highlanders were barbarians in his eyes, and he would waste no courtesy on them. there were several hundred spanish soldiers in the galleon, of the great army of troops which had been sent in the armada to invade england, and captain pareira thought himself in a position to demand what he wanted. he sent a boat ashore with a message to lachlan mo'r maclean at his castle at duart, asking that provisions be furnished him, and adding that in case of refusal or delay he should take them by force. to this lachlan sent back the haughty reply that "the wants of the distressed strangers should be attended to after the captain of the spanish ship had been taught a lesson in courteous behavior. in order that the lesson might be taught him as speedily as possible, he was invited to land and supply his wants by the forcible means of which he boasted. it was not the custom of the chief of the macleans to pay attention to the demands of a threatening and insolent beggar." at this it may be presumed that captain pareira swore a few rounds of crackling oaths in his beard as he strode his high-pooped quarter-deck. his men who had gone ashore reported that the maclean was an ill man to trifle with and that he had best be let alone. already the clan was gathering to repel a landing force from the galleon. the captain of the battered _florencia_ took wiser counsel with himself and perceived that he had threatened over hastily. pocketing his pride, he assured the ruffled lachlan of castle duart that he would pay with gold for whatever supplies might be granted him. lachlan had other fish to fry, for the macdonalds, exceedingly wroth at the scurvy treatment dealt that luckless bridegroom and ally, the chief of the macians, were up in arms and making ready to avenge the black insult. in need of men to defend himself, lachlan maclean struck a bargain with the captain of the galleon. if pareira should lend him a hundred soldiers from the _florencia_ he would consider this service as part payment for the supplies and assistance desired. away marched the contingent from the galleon in company with the maclean clansmen, and laid siege to the macian castle of mingarry after ravaging the small islands of rum and eigg. lachlan mo'r was carrying all before him, burning, killing, plundering both macdonalds and macians, when captain pareira sent him word that the _florencia_ was ready to sail, and he should like to have his soldiers returned. to this maclean replied that the account between them had not been wholly squared. there was the matter of payment promised in addition to the loan of the soldiers. the people of tobermory and thereabouts had sent grain and cattle aboard the galleon, and they must have their money before sailing day. captain pareira promised that every satisfaction should be given before he left the country, and again requested that his hundred _soldadoes_ be marched back to their ship. this lachlan was willing to do, but still suspecting the commander of the galleon as a wily bird, he detained three of the officers of the troops as hostages to assure final settlement. then he sent on board the _florencia_ young donald glas, son of the maclean of morvern, to collect what was due and adjust the affair. no sooner had he set foot on deck, than he was disarmed and bundled below by order of pareira who considered that two could play at holding that form of collateral known as hostages. now ensued a dead-lock. lachlan maclean refused to yield up his brace of spanish officers unless the demands of his people were paid in full, while captain pareira kept donald glas locked in a cabin and swore to carry him to sea. the tragedy which followed is told in the traditions of mull to this day. when donald glas learned that he was kidnapped in the galleon, he resolved to wreak dreadful revenge for the treachery dealt his kinsmen. on the morning when the _florencia_ weighed anchor, an attendant who had been confined with him was sent on shore and donald sent word of his fell intention to the chief of the clan. overnight donald glas had discovered that only a bulkhead separated his cabin from the powder magazine of the galleon, and by some means, which tradition omits to explain, he cut a hole through the planking and laid a train ready for the match. just before the _florencia_ weighed anchor he was fetched on deck for a moment to take his last sight of the heathery hills of mull and morvern. then the captive was thrust back into his cabin, and with her great, gay banners trailing from aloft, the galleon made sail and began slowly to move away from the shore of tobermory bay. it was then that donald glas, true maclean was he, fired his train of powder, and bang! the magazine exploded. the galleon was torn asunder with terrific violence, and the bodies of her soldiers and mariners were flung far over the bay and even upon the shore. so complete was the destruction that only three of the several hundred spaniards escaped alive. the _florencia_ had vanished in a manner truly epic, and proud were the macleans of the deed of young donald glas who gave his life for the honor of his clan. one of the surviving traditions is that a dog belonging to captain pareira was hurled ashore alive. the faithful creature, when it had recovered from its hurts, refused to leave that part of the strand nearest the wreck, and continued to howl most piteously by day and night as long as it existed, which was more than a year. the spanish officers, who had remained as hostages in the hands of lachlan mo'r maclean were set at liberty by that sometimes courteous chief, and were permitted to proceed to edinburgh where they lodged complaint with the king touching the destruction of their galleon. the matter of captain pareira having been disposed of in this explosive fashion, lachlan maclean returned to his main business of harrying the macdonalds, and so fiercely and destructively was the feud conducted thereafter, that king james thought it time to interfere, lest he should have no subjects left in the western highlands. the warring chiefs were summoned to edinburgh and imprisoned and fined, after which they made their peace with the king and returned to their island realms. the affair of the _florencia_ was named in the charges brought against maclean. in the official records of holyrood palace, seat of the scottish kings, is this information, laid before the privy council on january rd, : that in the preceding october, lachlan maclean "accompanied with a great number of thieves, broken men and ... of clans, besides the number of one hundred spaniards, came to the properties of his majesty, canna, rum, eigg and the isle of elenole, and after they had wracked and spoiled the said islands, they treasonably raised fire, and in maist barbarous, shameful and cruel manner, burnt the same island, with the men, women and children there, not sparing the youths and infants; and at the same time past came to the castle of ardnamurchan, besieged the same, and lay about the said castle three days, using in the meantime all kinds of hostilities and force, both by fire and sword.... the like barbarous and shameful cruelty has seldom been heard of among christians in any kingdom or age." on the th of march, , king james "granted a remission to lachlan maclean of duart for the cruel murder of certain inhabitants of the islands of rum, canna, and eigg," but from the remission was excepted the "plotting or felonious burning and flaming up, by sulphurous powder, of a spanish ship and of the men and provisions in her, near the island of mull." swift and tragic as was the fate of captain pareira and his ship's company, it was perhaps more merciful than that which befell the great squadron of galleons of the armada that were cast on the coast of ireland, on the rocks of clare and kerry, in galway bay, and along the shores of sligo and donegal. more than thirty ships perished in this way, and of the eight thousand half-drowned wretches who struggled ashore no more than a handful escaped slaughter at the hands of the wild irish who knocked them on the head with battle-axes or stripped them naked and left them to die of the cold. many were spanish gentlemen, richly clad, with gold chains and rings, and the common sailors and soldiers had each a bag of ducats lashed to his wrist when he landed through the surf. they were slain for their treasure, and on one sand strip of sligo an english officer counted eleven hundred bodies. in a letter to queen elizabeth, sir e. bingham, governor of ulster, wrote of the wreckage of twelve armada ships which he knew of, "the men of which ships did all perish in the sea save the number of eleven hundred or upwards which we put to the sword; amongst whom there were divers gentlemen of quality and service, as captains, masters of ships, lieutenants, ensign bearers, other inferior officers and young gentlemen to the number of some fifty.... which being spared from the sword till orders must be had from the lord deputy how to proceed against them, i had special directions sent me to see them executed as the rest were, only reserving alive one don luis de cordova, and a young gentleman, his nephew, till your highness's pleasure be known." alas, elizabeth could not find it in her heart to spare even these two luckless gentlemen of spain, and one judges those rude highlanders less harshly for their bloodthirsty feuds at learning that the great queen herself "ordered their immediate execution when she received the letter, and it was duly carried out." froude, in his essay "the defeat of the armada," comes to the defense of elizabeth, or at least he pleads extenuating circumstances. ====================================================================== [illustration: defeat of the spanish armada. from the painting by p. de loutherbourg.] ====================================================================== "most pitiful of all was the fate of those who fell into the hands of the english garrisons of galway and mayo. galleons had found their way into galway bay,--one of them had reached galway itself,--the crews half dead with famine and offering a cask of wine for a cask of water. the galway townsmen were humane, and tried to feed and care for them. most were too far gone to be revived, and died of exhaustion. some might have recovered, but recovered they would be a danger to the state. the english in the west of ireland were but a handful in the midst of a sullen, half-conquered population. the ashes of the desmond rebellion were still smoking, and dr. sanders and his legatine commission were fresh in immediate memory. the defeat of the armada in the channel could only have been vaguely heard of. "all that the english officers could have accurately known must have been that an enormous expedition had been sent to england by philip to restore the pope; and spaniards, they found, were landing in thousands in the midst of them with arms and money; distressed for the moment, but sure, if allowed time to get their strength again, to set connaught in a blaze. they had no fortresses to hold so many prisoners, no means of feeding them, no more to spare to escort them to dublin. they were responsible to the queen's government for the safety to the country. the spaniards had not come on any errand of mercy to her or hers. the stern order went out to kill them all wherever they might be found, and two thousand or more were shot, hanged, or put to the sword. dreadful! yes, but war itself is dreadful, and has its own necessities." a quaint recital of the fate of these fleeing galleons is to be found in a history published by order of oliver cromwell, with the title of "old england forever, or spanish cruelty displayed." one chapter runs as follows: "_here followeth a particular account of the miserable condition of the spanish fleet, fled to the north of scotland, and scattered, for many weeks, on the sea-coasts of ireland. written october , _. "about the beginning of august, the fleet was, by tempest, driven beyond the isles of orkney, the place being above leagues north latitude (as already mentioned) a very unaccustomed climate for the young gallants of spain, who did never before feel storms on the sea nor cold weather in august. and about those northern islands their mariners and soldiers died daily by multitudes, as by their bodies cast on land did appear. and after twenty days or more, having passed their time in great miseries, they being desirous to return home to spain, sailed very far southward into the ocean to recover spain. "but the almighty, who always avenges the cause of his afflicted people who put their confidence in him, and brings down his enemies who exalt themselves to the heavens, order'd the winds to be violently contrarious to this proud navy, that it was with force dissevered on the high seas to the west of ireland; and so a great number of them were driven into divers dangerous bays, and upon rocks, all along the west and north parts of ireland, in sundry places distant above an hundred miles asunder, and there cast away, some sunk, some broken, some run on sands, and some were burned by the spaniards themselves. "as in the north part of ireland, towards scotland, between the two rivers of lough-foile and lough-sivelly, nine were driven on shore, and many of them broke, and the spaniards forced to come to land for succor among the wild irish. "in another place, twenty miles south west from thence, in a bay called borreys, twenty miles northward from galloway, belonging to the earl of ormond, one special great ship of tons, with brass pieces, and four cannons was sunk, and all the people drowned, saving , who by their apparel, as it is advertized out of ireland, seemed to be persons of great distinction. "then to come more to the southward, thirty miles upon the coast of thomond, north from the river of shannon, two or three more perished, whereof one was burned by the spaniards themselves, and so driven to the shore. another was of san sebastian, wherein were men, who were also all drowned, saving ; a third ship, with all her lading was cast away at a place called breckan. "in another place, opposite sir tirlogh o'brien's house, there was another great ship lost, supposed to be a galleass. the losses above mentioned were betwixt the th, and th of september; as was advertized from sundry places out of ireland. so as by accompt. from the st of july, when this navy was first beaten by the navy of england, until the th of september, being the space of seven weeks, and more, it is very probable that the said navy had never had one good day or night." that much treasure of gold and jewels and plate went down in these lost galleons was the opinion of scotch and irish tradition, but these stories gained the greatest credence in the case of the _florencia_ of tobermory bay. she was said to have contained the paymaster's chests of the armada, and to have carried to the bottom thirty million ducats of money, and the church plate of fabulous richness. it is certain that the _florencia_ was one of the largest galleons of the armada and that she never returned to spain. her armament comprised fifty-two guns, and her company numbered soldiers and eighty-six sailors. it is probable that this was the _florencia_ belonging to the duke of tuscany, which was refitting at santander in september, , concerning which lord ashley wrote to walsingham, after the destruction of the armada, that she was commanded by a grandee of the first rank who was always "served on silver." while even now the most painstaking investigation is unable to find definite information regarding the amount of treasure lost in the galleon of tobermory bay, that she contained a vast amount of riches was believed as early as a half century after her destruction. the papers of the great house of argyll record the beginning of the search almost as far away as . of these fascinating documents, the first is the grant to the marquis of argyll and his heirs by the duke of lennox and richmond, lord high admiral, with consent of king charles the first, of all rights and ownership in the wreck of the _florencia_ and her treasure. the deed of gift is dated from the court of st. theobold's, february th, and "proceeds upon the narrative that in the year , when the great spanish armada was sent from spain towards england and scotland, and was dispersed by the mercie of god, there were divers ships and other vessels of the armada, with ornaments, munition, goods, and gear, which were thought to be of great worth, cast away, and sunk to the sea ground on the coast of mull, near tobermory, in the scots seas, where they lay, and still lie as lost; and that the marquis of argyll, near whose bounds the ships were lost, having taken notice thereof, and made inquiries therefor, and having heard some doukers[ ] and other experts in such matters state that they consider it possible to recover some of the ships and their valuables, was moved to take and to cause pains to be taken thereupon at his own charges and hazard. "for this reason, the great admiral, with the king's consent, gives, grants, and disposes to the marquis the said ships, ornaments, munition, etc. of the spanish armada, and the entire profit that might follow, or that he had already obtained therefrom, with full power to the marquis, his doukers, seamen, and others to search for the ships, and intromit with them, providing the marquis were accountable and made prompt payment to the duke of lennox and richmond of a hundredth part of the ships, etc. with deduction of the expenses incurred for their recovery, _pro rata_." in these words the crown assigned the treasure of the _florencia_ to the house of argyll as part of its admiralty rights along that coast where marched the family estates. in , the ninth earl of argyll, son of him who had obtained ownership of the galleon, employed an expert diver and wrecker by the name of james mauld to search for the treasure of ducats and plate. it was an attractive speculation for that notable "douker" who was promised four-fifths of all the "gold, silver, metal, goods, etc." recovered and incidentally the earl bound himself "that the same james mauld shall not be molested in his work, and that his workmen shall have peaceable living in these parts during their stay, and traveling through the highlands and isles, and shall be free from all robberies, thefts, etc. so far as the said earl can prevent the same. the said contract provides further lodging houses for the workmen at the usual rates, and is fixed to endure for three years after march , ." these divers easily found the hull of the galleon, and they made a chart showing its exact bearings by landmarks on two sides of the bay. this ancient chart of the "spanish wrack" as it is labeled, is owned by the present duke of argyll, and has been used by the modern treasure seekers who are unable even with its aid to find the remains of the _florencia_, so deeply have her timbers sunk in the tide-swept silt of the bay. the interest of the ninth earl of argyll in exploring the galleon was diverted by monmouth's rebellion in which luckless adventure he became an active leader. he was made prisoner and suffered the loss of his head which abruptly snuffled out his romantic activities as a seeker after lost treasure. he left among his papers a memorandum concerning the galleon, under date of , which states that "the spanish wrackship was reputed to have been the _admiral of florence_, one of the armada of , a ship of fifty-six guns, with , , of money on board. it was burned and so blown up that two men standing upon the cabin were cast safe on shore. it lay in a very good road, landlocked betwixt a little island and a bay in the isle of mull, a place where vessels ordinarily anchored free of any violent tide, with hardly any stream, a clean, hard channel, with a little sand on the top, and little or no mud in most places about, upon ten fathoms at high water and about eight at ground ebb. "the fore part of the ship above water was quite burned, so that from the mizzen mast to the foreship, no deck was left. the hull was full of sand and the earl caused it to be searched a little without finding anything but a great deal of cannon ball about the main mast, and some kettles, and tankers of copper, and such like in other places. over the hindship, where the cabin was, there was a heap of great timber which it would be difficult to remove, but under this is the _main expectation_. "the deck under the cabin was thought to be entire. the cannon lay generally at some yards distance from the ship, from two to twenty. the earl's father had the gift of the ship, and attempted the recovery of it, but from want of skilled workmen he did not succeed. in , the laird of melgum (james mauld), who had learned the art of the (diving) bell in sweden and had made a considerable fortune by it, entered into a contract with the earl for three years by which melgum was to be at all the charge, and to give the earl the fifth part of what was brought up. he wrought only three months, and most of the time was spent in mending his bells and sending for material he needed, so that he raised only two brass cannon of a large calibre, but very badly fortified, and a great iron gun. "after this, being invited to england, he wrought no more, thinking his trade a secret, and that the spanish ship would wait for him. on the expiring of the contract, the earl undertook the work alone and without the aid of any one who had ever seen diving, recovered six cannon, one of which weighed near six hundred weight. the earl afterwards entered into a contract with a german who undertook great things, and talked of bringing a vessel of forty guns, but instead brought only a yacht and recovered only one anchor, going away soon after, taking his gold with him and leaving some debt behind. "the contract with the german has expired, and the earl is provided with a vessel, bells, ropes, and tongs, and with men to work by direction, yet, although he is confident in his own understanding of the art of diving with the bell, he is willing to enter into a contract. he will dispone (grant) the vessel for three years, provided the contractor should keep four skilled men to work in seasonable weather from may to october . the earl will furnish a ship of or tons with twelve seamen, and give his partner a fifth part of the proceeds. if a crown were found it was to be exempted from the division and presented to his majesty.... "it is concluded that if the money expected be fallen upon, the fifth part will quickly pay all expenses, and reward the ingenious artist, and if that fail, the cannon will certainly repay the charges." there are also preserved articles of agreement, dated december th, , by which the earl makes over a three-year concession to john saint clare, minister at ormistoun in scotland, "for himself and as taking burden for his father," to search the wreck on shares, the earl reserving "one-third part of what should be recovered during the first year, and one-half of what should be recovered during the last two years." it is also provided that "if the saint clares were disturbed during the first year, so as not to be able to work or raise the wreck without damage to their persons (by reason of the unsettled state of the country), the contract should be regarded as not taking effect for a year. the earl binds himself to produce before november , , his right to the ship, under the great seal of scotland, at edinburgh, and to deliver a copy of it to the saint clares. john saint clare, younger, binds himself to repair with all skill for its recovery, and for the recovery of the valuables, during the space of three years, and to make true account and payment of the shares above reserved to the earl and his heirs, etc. lastly, both parties oblige themselves faithfully to observe all the articles of agreement under the liquidated penalty of , marks, scots." the saint clares, or sinclairs, as the name is spelled in other documents of the same tenor, assigned their rights and contract to one hans albricht von treibelen, who was probably that german referred to by the earl as taking his gold with him and leaving his debts behind. this document contains a fascinating mention of "all that might be found in the water and about the ship, as gold, silver, bullion, jewels, etc." and sets forth a new scheme of division of the spoils. now there appears captain adolpho e. smith as a partner of hans albricht von treibelen, and one finds another parchment executed by the earl who appears to have thought that these "doukers" would bear watching, for they are enjoined "immediately on the recovery of the wreck to deliver on the spot to the earl's factors or servants who are daily to attend the work and to be witnesses of what is recovered.... should the work be impeded by the violence of the country people, it is provided that the term of the contract might be lengthened." the repeated references to molestation by the inhabitants round about were aimed at the clan maclean. the great lachlan m'or had long since closed his stormy career, and, wrapped in his plaid, his bones were smouldering in a grave by duart castle. his kinsmen had good memories, however, and there was that debt for provisions which had been left owing by captain pareira of the _florencia_ some eighty years before. it might seem that young donald glas had squared the account when he blew the galleon and her crew to kingdom come, but the macleans were men to nurse the embers of a feud and set the sparks to flying at the next opportunity. they held it that theirs was the first right to the wreck, and cared not a rap for any documentary rights that might have been granted to the campbells (the clan of the earls of argyll), by the great admiral of scotland. hector maclean, brother of lachlan maclean of castle torloisk, near tobermory, rallied a force and drove the divers from the wreck. then, in order that there might be no doubt about the views of the macleans, they built a small fort overlooking the bay and the scene of the wreck, the ruins of which still survive. there a detachment was posted with orders to make it hot for any interlopers who might try to find the sunken treasure without first consulting the macleans. this interference found its way into the courts at edinburgh in the form of a petition of grievances suffered by captain adolpho e. smith. he swore before a notary that john maclean, of kinlochalan, and john maclean, a servitor to lachlan maclean of torloisk, "had convocated six or seven score of armed men, and he had exhibited to them a royal warrant bearing his majesty's protection and free liberty to captain smith and his servants to work at the wreck-ship at tobermory, and prohibiting any of his majesty's subjects from interrupting them. captain smith then required the macleans to dissipate the armed men, part of whom were in a fort or trench at tobermory, newly built by them for interrupting the work, and the rest in the place or houses adjacent,--as john maclean of kinlochalan acknowledged,--and in his majesty's name required them to give him and his men liberty to prosecute their work at the wreck. "upon this kinlochalan answered that the men in arms were not commanded by him but by hector maclean, brother of lachlan maclean of torloisk, and others; and he declared that not only would captain smith and his men be hindered, but that the men in arms would shoot guns, muskets and pistols at them, should any of them offer to duck or work at the wreck. whereupon captain smith took this instrument, protesting against the aforesaid macleans and their accomplices, at tobermory in mull, september, ." the militant and tenacious macleans struck terror to the heart of captain adolpho smith, according to another official document called a "notorial instrument at the instance of william campbell, skipper to the earl of argyll's frigate, called _anna of argyll_. this worthy sea dog, it appears, as procurator for the earl," had compeared, desired, and required captain adolpho e. smith and his men to duck and work at the wreckship and to conform to the minutes of contract betwixt the earl and him, otherwise to give the bells, sinks, and other instruments necessary for ducking to william campbell, and the men on board the earl's frigate, who would duck them without any regard to the threatenings of the macleans. "notwithstanding this, captain smith and his men refused to duck and work, or to give over the bells, etc., necessary for the work to william campbell who thereupon, as procurator for the earl of argyll asked and took instruments and protested against captain smith for cost, skaith, and damage conform to the contract. the instrument was taken by donald mckellar, notary public, at and aboard the yacht belonging to captain adolpho e. smith, lying in the bay of tobermory in mull, september, ." the wreck of the galleon was fought over about this time, not only by the mettlesome macleans but also by the duke of york as lord high admiral of scotland and the isles, succeeding in that office the duke of lennox. he challenged the rights of the house of argyll to the _florencia_ and her treasure and instituted legal proceedings in due form which were decided in favor of the defendant, thereby confirming for all time the possession of the wreck, which belongs to the present duke of argyll. the verdict read in part as follows: "the rights, reasons, and allegations of the parties, and the gifts and ratifications therein referred to, produced by archibald, earl of argyll, being at length heard and seen, the lords of council and session assoilized the said archibald earl of argyll from the hail points and articles of the summons libelled or precept intended and pursued against him at the instance of said william aikman, procurator-fiscal of the admiralty, before said lord high admiral and his deputies, and decreed and declared him quit and free thereof in all time coming. dated th, july, ." there comes into the story, during the lifetime of the ninth earl, the figure of sir william sacheverall, governor of the isle of man, who was interested as a partner in one of the several concessions granted. he had left an account of his voyage to mull in the year , printed shortly after the event, in which he not only records sundry efforts to fish up the treasure but gives also a lively and vivid picture of the primitive highlander on his native heather. "about twelve o'clock," he wrote, "we made the sound of mull. we saluted the castle of duart with five guns, and they returned three. i sent in my pinnace for the boats, and things you had left there; and in the evening we cast anchor in the bay of tauber murry, which for its bigness, is one of the finest and fastest in the world. the mouth of it is almost shut up with a little woody island call'd the calve, the opening to the south not passable for small boats at low-water, and that to the north barely musquet-shot over. to the landward, it is surrounded with high mountains cover'd with woods, pleasantly intermixed with rocks, and three or four cascades of water which throw themselves from the top of the mountain with a pleasure that is astonishing, all of which together make one of the oddest and most charming prospects i ever saw. "italy itself, with all the assistance of art, can hardly afford anything more beautiful and diverting; especially when the weather was clear and serene, to see the divers sinking three-score foot under water and stay sometimes above an hour, and at last returning with the spoils of the ocean; whether it were plate, or money, it convinced us of the riches and splendor of the once thought _invincible armada_. this rais'd a variety of ideas, in a soul as fond of novelty as mine. sometimes i reflected with horror on the danger of the british nation, sometimes with pleasure on that generous courage and conduct that sav'd a sinking state; and sometimes of so great an enterprize baffled and lost, by accidents unthought of and unforseen.... "the first week the weather was pleasant, but spent in fitting our engines, which proved very well, and every way suited to the design; and our divers outdid all examples of this nature. but with the dog-days the autumnal rains usually begin in these parts, and for six weeks we had scarce a good day. the whole frame of nature seem'd inhospitable, bleak, stormy, rainy, windy, so that our divers could not bear the cold, and despairing to see any amendment of weather i resolved on a journey across the isle of mull, to the so much celebrated ii-columb-kill,[ ] in english st. columb's church.... "the first four miles we saw but few houses, but cross'd a wild desert country, with a pleasant mixture of woods and mountains. every man and thing i met seem'd a novelty. i thought myself entering upon a new scene of nature, but nature rough and unpolished, in her undress. i observed the men to be large bodied, stout, subtile, active, patient of cold and hunger. there appeared in all their actions a certain generous air of freedom, and contempt of those trifles, luxury and ambition, which we so servilely creep after. they bound their appetites by their necessities and their happiness consists not in having much, but in coveting little. "the women seem to have the same sentiments as the men; tho' their habits were mean, and they had not our sort of breeding, yet in many of them there was a natural beauty, and a graceful modesty which never fails of attracting. the usual outward habit of both sexes is the plaid; the women's much finer, the colours more lively, and the squares larger than the men's, and put me in mind of the ancient picts. this serves them for a veil and covers both head and body. the men wear theirs after another manner; when designed for ornament it is loose and flowing, like the mantles our painters give their heroes. "their thighs are bare, with brawny muscles; a thin brogue on the foot, a short buskin of various colours on the leg, tied above the calf with a strip'd pair of garters. on each side of a large shot-pouch hangs a pistol and a dagger; a round target on their backs, a blue bonnet on their heads, in one hand a broadsword, and a musquet in the other. perhaps no nation goes better arm'd, and i assure you they will handle them with bravery and dexterity, especially the sword and target, as our veteran regiments found to their cost at killie crankie." although sir william sacheverall, he of the facile pen and the romantic temper, brought no spanish treasure to light, he helped us to see those fighting macleans and macdonalds as they were in their glory, and his description was written almost two and a half centuries ago. the "spanish wrack" was handed down from one chief of the campbell clan to another, as part of the estate, until in , john, the second duke of argyll, decided to try his luck, and employed a diving bell, by which means a magnificent bronze cannon was recovered. it has since been kept at inverary castle, the seat of the dukes of argyll, as an heirloom greatly esteemed. this elaborately wrought piece of ordnance, almost eleven feet in length, bears the arms of francis i of france (for whom it was cast at fontainebleau) and the fleur-de-lis. it was probably captured from francis at the battle of pavia during his invasion of italy, and the spanish records state that several of such cannon were put on a vessel contributed to the armada by the state of tuscany. at the same time a large number of gold and silver coins were found by the divers, and the treasure seeking was thereby freshly encouraged. modern experts in wrecking and salvage have agreed that the crude apparatus of those earlier centuries was inadequate to combat the difficulties of exploring a wreck of the type of the _florencia_ galleon, built as she was of great timbers of the iron-like african oak which to-day is found to be staunch and unrotted after a submersion of more than three hundred years. the diving bells of those times were dangerous and clumsy, and easily capsized. the men worked from inside them by thrusting out hooks and tong-like appliances, and dared venture no deeper than eight fathoms, or less than fifty feet. in other words, the treasure might be in the galleon, but it was impossible to find and bring it up. for another century and more, the _florencia_ was left undisturbed until about forty years ago, the present duke of argyll, then marquis of lorne, considered it his family duty to investigate the bottom of tobermory bay, his curiosity being pricked at finding the ancient chart, and other documents already quoted, among the archives stored in inverary castle. more for sport than for profit, he sent down a diver who found a few coins, pieces of oak, and a brass stanchion, after which the owner bothered his head no more about these phantom riches for some time. in , or three hundred and fifteen years after the _florencia_ found her grave in tobermory bay, a number of gentlemen of glasgow, rashly speculative for scots, formed a company and subscribed a good many thousand dollars to equip and maintain a treasure-seeking expedition by modern methods. the duke of argyll, like his ancestors before him, was ready to grant permission to search the wreck of the galleon for a term of years, conditioned upon a fair division of the spoils. he let them have the chart, without which no treasure hunt deserves the name, and all the family papers dealing with the _florencia_. in charge of the operations was placed captain william burns of glasgow, a hard-headed and vastly experienced wrecker who had handled many important salvage enterprises for the marine underwriters in seas near and far. the contrast between this twentieth century syndicate with its steam dredges and electric lights, and that primitive age when the macleans were harassing captain adolpho smith from their fort beside the bay, is fairly astonishing. the gentlemen of glasgow were not moved by sentiment, however, and soon captain burns was spending their money in a preliminary survey of the waters and the sands where the galleon was supposed to be. although the ancient chart was explicit in its bearings, and these were made when men were living who had seen a part of the wreck above tide, locating the _florencia_ proved to be a baffling puzzle. during the first season, , divers and lighters were employed in this work of searching, but the salvage consisted of no more than another bronze cannon loaded with a stone ball, several swords, scabbards, and blunderbusses, a gold ring, and some fifty doubloons bearing the names of ferdinand and isabella, and don carlos. two years later, in , the work was fairly begun with a costly equipment. the bottom of the bay was photographed and a mound of sand revealed, which, it was concluded, covered the surviving part of the galleon. digging into this bank, the divers found many curious trophies, among them more arms and munition, bottles or canteens, boarding pikes, copper powder pans, and other small furniture, much corroded and encrusted. it was surmised that the vessel lay with her stern cocked up, and that in this end, indicated by the swelling of the sand bank, the treasure was hidden. powerful suction pumps worked by steam were set going to clear away this bank, and they bored into it steadily for three weeks while the divers dug shafts to clear away obstructions. at length, a massive silver candlestick was fetched up, and the sand pumps clanked more industriously than ever. at the end of the summer, about one hundred square feet of the bank had been removed, but the whereabouts of the galleon was by no means certain. as soon as the weather became favorable in the following spring, captain burns and his crew returned to the quest with more men and machinery than before. it was really impossible that such a business as this could be carried on without some touch of the fantastic and the picturesque. there now intrudes a mr. cossar, employed as "the famous expert, who, by means of delicate apparatus can indicate where metal or wood is buried in any quantity underground," and he spent the summer taking observations and buoying the bay with floats or markers. at these places boring was carried on means of steel rods to a depth of one hundred and forty feet, while the dredges were busy exploring the vicinity of the sand bank. the area thoroughly explored was increased to eight acres in , in water from seven to fourteen fathoms deep. that famous expert, mr. cossar, and his delicate apparatus were reinforced by mr. john stears of yorkshire, one of the most notable diviners of england. he operated with no more apparatus than a hawthorn twig and professed to be able to locate precious metals no matter how many fathoms deep, and more than this, _mirabile dictu_, to tell you whether it was gold, or silver, or copper that made his inspired twig twist and bend in his fingers. mr. stears was taken as seriously as mr. cossar had been, and the findings of one confirmed the verdicts of the other. the powerful salvage steamer _breamer_ with a large crew searched where the diviner told them to go, and several pieces of silver plate were recovered amid the excitement of all hands. the _breamer_ continued work in , but during the next year the waters of tobermory bay were unvexed by the treasure-seekers. then the syndicate went into its pockets for more cash, got its second wind, so to speak, and wrapped its operations in a cloud of secrecy, quite the proper dodge for a venture of this kind. a new and taciturn crew was hired for the _breamer_, and whatever was found under water was hidden from prying eyes. the additional funds raised amounted to $ , , and captain burns was told to obtain the best equipment possible. it was reported in the autumn of that year that "mr. cossar, the mineral expert, by whose skill the scope of the operations was more or less controlled, had broken down in health owing to the severe strain, and had gone home to recruit," but john stears of yorkshire with his hawthorn twig was still finding treasure which refused to be found by divers. ====================================================================== [illustration: diving to find the treasure galleon in tobermory bay. (photographed in .)] the salvage steamer _breamer_ equipped with suction dredge, removing a sandbank from the supposed location of the florencia galleon in . ====================================================================== the five-year concession from the duke of argyll had expired and was renewed by a syndicate organized in london, the manager a col. k. m. foss, an american, who appeared in tobermory and conveyed an impression of cock-sure yankee hustle. he announced that his agents were making historical researches in the libraries and museums of europe and had already convinced him that the lost galleon was crammed with treasure; that the chart relied on in past searches was all wrong, and expressed his surprise that the extensive salvage operations of recent years should have failed to locate the exact position of the wreck. in a word, scotchmen might know a thing or two, but your up-to-date yankee was the man to crack the nut of the lost _florencia_ and deftly extract the kernel. the appearance of this colonel foss in this storied landscape of tobermory bay has a certain humorous aspect. he hardly seems to belong in the _ensemble_ of the search for the treasure galleon which has been carried on for centuries. this entertaining american may perhaps have unearthed information hitherto unknown, but the fact is worth some stress that all previous investigations had failed to prove beyond doubt that the _florencia_ bore from spain the thirty millions of money reputed to have been stowed in her lazarette. an ancient document known as "the confession of gregorie de sotomeya of melgaco in portugal" contains a list of the treasure ships of the armada. he was with the fleet in the galleon _neustra senora del rosario_, commanded by dom pedro de valdes, and he goes on to say: "to the sixth question concerning what treasure there was in the fleet, i say there was great stories of money and plate which came in the galleon wherein the duke of medina was (_the san martin_), and in the ship of dom pedro de valdez which was taken, and in the admiral of the galleons (_the san lorenzo_), and in the galley royal (_the capitana royale_), and in the vice admiral wherein was juan martinez de ricalde (_the santa anna_), and in the vice admiral whereof was general diego (_the san christobel_), and in the vice admiral of the pinnaces (_n. s. de pilar de targoza_), and in the vice-admiral of the hulks (_the gran grifon_), and in a venitian ship in which came general don alonzo de leyna. the report goeth that this ship brought great stores of treasure, for that there came in her the prince of ascoli, and many other noblemen. this is all i know touching the treasure." the name of the _florencia_ does not appear herein, yet the report of her vast riches was current in the western highlands no more than one lifetime after the year of the armada. that men of solid business station and considerable capital can be found to-day to charter wrecking steamers, divers, dredges, and what not to continue this enterprise proves that romance is not wholly dead. in the town of tobermory, the busy, mysterious parties of treasure seekers, as they come year after year with their impressive flotilla of apparatus, furnish endless diversion and conjecture. the people will tell you, in the broad english of the highlander, and in the gaelic, even more musical, as it survives among the western islands, the legend of the beautiful spanish princess who came in the _florencia_, and was wooed and won by a bold maclean, and they will show you the old mill whose timbers, still staunchly standing, were taken from the wreck of the galleon. in mull, and oftener among the islands further seaward and toward the irish coast, are to be found black-eyed and black-haired men and women, not of the pure celtic race, in whose blood is the distant strain bequeathed by those ancestors who married shipwrecked spanish sailors of the armada, and perhaps among them are descendants of these two or three seamen who were hurled ashore alive when the _florencia_ was destroyed by the hand of young donald glas maclean. in quaint tobermory whose main street nestles along the edge of the bay, the ancient foemen, macleans and macdonalds, tend their shops side by side, and it seems as if almost every other signboard bore one of these clan names. if you would hear the best talk of the galleon and her treasure, it is wise to seek the tiny grocery and ship chandlery of captain coll macdonald, a gentle white-bearded man, so slight of stature and mild of mien and speech that you are surprised to learn that for many years he was master of a great white-winged clipper ship of the famous city line of glasgow, in the days when this distinction meant something. now he has come back to spend his latter days in this tranquil harbor and to spin yarns of many seas. ====================================================================== [illustration: scabbards, flasks, cannon balls, and small objects recovered from the sunken armada galleon.] stone cannon balls and breech-block of a breech loading gun fished up from the wreck of the florencia galleon. ====================================================================== "the scour of the tide has settled the wreck of the galleon many feet in the sand," he told me. "i can show you on a chart what the old bearings were, as they were handed down from one generation to the next, but captain burns is not sure that he has yet found her. the money is there, i have no doubt. there was a bark in the bay not long ago, and when she pulled up anchor a spanish doubloon was sticking to one fluke. mr. stears, the yorkshireman with the divining rod, did some wonderful things, but the treasure was not found. to test him, bags of silver and gold and copper money were buoyed under water in the bay, with no marks to show. it was done by night and he was kept away. he went out in a boat next morning and was rowed around a bit, and wherever the metal was hid under water, his twig told him, without a mistake. more than that, he knew what kind of metal it was under the water." "and how was that!" i asked of captain coll macdonald. "he would hold a piece of gold money in each hand when the twig began to twist and dip. if the gold was under the water, the twig would pull with a very strong pull, so that he knew. if it was undecided like, he would hold silver money, and the twig told him the proper message. i watched him working many a time, and it was very wonderful." "but he did not find the treasure," i ventured to observe. "ah, lad, it was no fault of his," returned the old gentleman. "the spanish gold is scattered far and wide over the bottom of the bay, i have no doubt. donald glas maclean did a very thorough job when he blew the galleon to hell." the present duke of argyll, brother-in-law of the late king edward, bears among the many and noble and resonant titles that are his by inheritance, several which recall the earlier pages of the history of the clan campbell, the brave days of the feudal highlands, and the ancient rights in the armada galleon of tobermory bay. he is baron inverary, mull, morvern, and tiry; twenty-ninth baron of lochow, with the celtic title of the cailean mo'r, chief of the clan campbell, from sir colin campbell, knighted in ; admiral of the western coast and islands, marquis of lorne and kintye; keeper of the great seal of scotland and of the castles of dunstaffnage, dunoon and carvick, hereditary high sheriff of the county of argyll. he once explained how the ownership of the _florencia_ galleon came to his family by means of the ancient grant already quoted. the campbells held the admiralty rights of the coast of mull at the time of the armada, and any wreck was lawfully theirs for this reason. the document was simply a formal confirmation of these rights. the _florencia_ was flotsam and jetsam to be taken by whatever chiefs held the rights of admiralty. a case involving the salmon fishing rights of a scottish river was recently decided by virtue of a charter of admiralty rights granted by robert the bruce, who ruled and fought six hundred years ago. in order to complete the documentary links of this true story of the armada galleon, it may be of interest to quote from a letter recently received by the author from the present duke of argyll, in which he says: the galleon was the ship furnished by tuscany as her contribution to the armada. she was called the _florencia_, or _city of florence_, and was commanded by captain pereira, a portugese, and had a crew largely portugese on board. we have found specimens of his plate with the pereira arms engraved on the plate border. she carried breech loading guns on her upper deck, and you will see one of them at the blue coat school now removed from london to the suburbs. on the lower deck were some guns got from francis i at the battle of pavia. i have a very fine one at inverary castle, got from the wreck in . diving with a diving bell was commenced in and discontinued on account of civil troubles. pereira foolishly took part in local clan disputes, helping the macleans of mull against the macdonalds. one of the macdonalds, when a prisoner on board, is said to have blown up the vessel as she was warping out of harbor. i found an old plan and located the "spanish wrack" from the plan, but only sent a man down once from a yacht. there was little obtained during the last divings, cannon balls, timber, a few pieces of plate, small articles--about dollars, etc. yours faithfully, argyll. kensington palace, april ,-- ." [ ] a cliff which was the key to the position held by the macleans. [ ] divers. [ ] iona. chapter viii the lost plate fleet of vigo no treasure yarn is the real thing unless it glitters with ducats, ingots, and pieces of eight, which means that in the brave days when riches were quickest won with cutlass, boarding pike, and carronade, it was spain that furnished the best hunting afloat. for three centuries her galleons and treasure fleets were harried and despoiled of wealth that staggers the imagination, and their wreckage littered every ocean. english sea rovers captured many millions of gold and silver, and pirates took their fat shares in the west indies, along the coasts of america from the spanish main to lima and panama, and across the pacific to manila. and to-day, the quests of the treasure seekers are mostly inspired by hopes of finding some of the vanished wealth of spain that was hidden or sunk in the age of the conquistadores and the viceroys. of all the argosies of spain, the richest were those plate fleets which each year carried to cadiz and seville the cargoes of bullion from the mines of peru, and mexico, and the greatest treasure ever lost since the world began was that which filled the holds of the fleet of galleons that sailed from cartagena, porto bello, and vera cruz in the year . what distinguishes this treasure story from all others is that it is not befogged in legend and confused by mystery and uncertainty. and while ships' companies are roaming the seven seas to find what small pickings the pirates and buccaneers may have lifted in their time, the most marvelous spanish treasure of them all is no farther away than a harbor on the other side of the atlantic. at the bottom of vigo bay, on the coast of spain, lies that fleet of galleons and one hundred millions of dollars in gold ingots and silver bars. this estimate is smaller than the documentary evidence vouches for. in fact, twenty-eight million pounds sterling is the accepted amount, but one hundred million dollars has a sufficiently large and impressive sound, and it is wise to be conservative to the verge of caution in dealing with lost treasure which has been made so much more the theme of fiction than a question of veracity. after escaping the perils of buccaneer and privateer and frigate, this treasure fleet went down in a home port, amid smoke and flame and the thunder of guns manned by english and dutch tars under that doughty admiral of queen anne, sir george rooke. it was the deadliest blow ever dealt the mighty commerce of spain during those centuries when her ruthless grasp was squeezing the new world of its riches. there, indeed, is the prize for the treasure seeker of to-day who dreams of doubloons and pieces of eight. nor could pirate hoard have a more blood-stained, adventurous history than these millions upon millions, lapped by the tides of vigo bay, which were won by the sword and lost in battle. during these last two hundred years many efforts have been made to recover the freightage of this fleet, but the bulk of the treasure is still untouched, and it awaits the man with the cash and the ingenuity to evolve the right salvage equipment. at work now in vigo bay is the latest of these explorers, an italian, pino by name, inventor of a submarine boat, a system of raising wreck, and a wonderful machine called a hydroscope for seeing and working at the bottom of the sea. with pino it is a business affair operated by means of a concession from the spanish government, but he is something more than an inventor. he is a poet, he has the artistic temperament, and when he talks of his plans it is in words like these: "i have found means to disclose to human eyes the things hidden in the being of the furious waves of the infinite ocean, and how to recover them. mine is the simple key with which to open to man the mysterious virgin temples of the nymphs and sirens who, by their sweet singing, draw men to see and to take their endless treasures." this interesting pino is no dreamer, however, and he has enlisted ample capital with which to build costly machinery and charter yachts and steamers. with him is associated carlo l. iberti, and there is an ideal pattern of a treasure seeker for you, a man of immense enthusiasm, of indefatigable industry, dreaming, thinking, living in the story of the galleons of vigo bay. it was he who secured the concession from madrid, it was he who as he says, "was flying from province to province, from country to country, from archives to archives, from library to library, ever studying, copying, and acquiring all documents relating to vigo. i had made up my mind to find out all that was to be known about the treasure. and i believe i have succeeded." never was there such a prospectus as iberti wrote to awaken the interest of investors in the undertaking of pino. it was a historical work bristling with data, authorities, references, from french, spanish, and english sources. it was convincing, final, positively superb. one blinked at reading it, as if dazzled by the sight of mountains of gold, and moreover every word of it was true. as a text for this narrative, his summary, the peroration, so to speak, fairly hits one between the eyes: "as the total quantity of treasure which arrived at vigo in amounted to , , pesos, or £ , , , there is not the least doubt that the treasure in gold and silver still lying in the galleons of vigo bay amounts to as much as , , pieces of eight, or £ , , , after deducting the treasure unloaded before the battle, the booty taken by the victors, and that recovered by explorers. that would have been the value of the treasure two hundred years ago. to-day, its value would be greater, at a moderate estimate of £ , , . such is the sum which we who are interested in the recovery of the treasure have set our hearts on winning from the sea." ====================================================================== [illustration: sir george rooke, commanding the british fleet at the battle of vigo bay.] ====================================================================== after this, the hoards of the most notorious and hard-working pirates seem picayune, trifling, shabby, the small change of the age of buried treasure. why signor iberti is so cock-sure of his figures, and how that wondrous treasure fleet was lost in vigo bay is a story worth telling if there be any merit in high adventures, hard fighting, and the tang of salty seas in the days when the world was young. no more than nine years after the first voyage of columbus, galleons laden with treasure were winging it from the west indies to spain, and this golden stream was flowing year by year until the time of the american revolution. the total was to be counted not in millions but in billions, and this prodigious looting of the new world gave to spain such wealth and power that her centuries of greatness were literally builded upon foundations of ingots and silver bars. before sir francis drake sailed into the caribbean, the dutch and english had been playing at the great game of galleon hunting, but their exploits had been no more than vexations, and the security of the plate fleets was not seriously menaced until "el draque" spread terror and destruction down one coast of the americas and up the other, from nombre de dios to panama. heaven alone knows how many great galleons he shattered and plundered, but from the _san felipe_ and the _cacafuego_ he took two million dollars in treasure, and he numbered his other prizes by the score. martin frobisher carried the huge east india galleon _madre de dios_ by boarding in the face of tremendous odds, the blood running from her scuppers, and was rewarded with $ , , worth of precious stones, ebony, ivory, and turkish carpets. during the period of the english commonwealth, admiral stayner pounded to pieces a west indian treasure fleet of eight sail, and from one of them took two millions in silver, while blake fought his way into the harbor of teneriffe and destroyed another splendid argosy under the guns of the forts. it is recorded that thirty-eight wagons were required to carry the gold and jewels thus obtained from portsmouth to london. the records of the british admiralty have preserved a memorandum of the prize money distributed to the officers and men of the _active_ and _favorite_ from the treasures taken in the _hermione_ galleon off cadiz in , and it is a document to make a modern mariner sigh for the days of his forefathers. here is treasure finding as it used to flourish: the admiral and the commander of the fleet.... $ , the captain of the _active_................... , each of three commissioned officers........... , " " eight warrant officers................ , " " twenty officers....................... , " " seamen and marines................ , the captain of the _favorite_................. , each of commissioned officers............... , " " warrant officers................... , " " petty officers..................... , " " seamen and marines................ , in it happened that no treasure fleet had returned to spain for three years, and the gold and silver and costly merchandise were piling up at cartagena and porto bello and vera cruz waiting for shipment. spain was torn with strife over the royal succession, and inasmuch as the king claimed as his own one-fifth of all the treasure coming from the new world, the west india company and the officials of the treasury kept the galleons away until it should be known who had the better right to the cargoes. moreover, the high seas were perilous for the passage of treasure ships, what with the havoc wrought by the cursed english men-of-war and privateers, not to mention the buccaneers of san domingo and the windward islands who had a trick of storming aboard a galleon from any crazy little craft that would float a handful of them. timidly the galleons delayed until a fleet of french men-of-war was sent out to convey them home, and at length this richest argosy that ever furrowed blue water, freighted with three years' treasure from the mines, made its leisurely way into mid-ocean by way of the azores, bound to the home port of cadiz. there were forty sail in all, seventeen of the plate fleet, under don manuel de velasco, and twenty-three french ships-of-the-line and frigates obeying the admiral's pennant of the count of chateaurenaud. the news came to queen anne that this fleet had departed from the spanish main, and a squadron of twenty-seven british war vessels, commanded by the famous sir cloudesley shovel, was fitted out to intercept and attack it. the manoeuvres of the hunted galleons and their convoy wear an aspect grimly humorous as pictured in the letters and narratives of that time. one of these explains that "the fleet was performing its voyage always with the fear that the enemy was lying in wait for it; the king of france also was in continual anxiety on the same account, and urged by these forebodings he sent dispatches in different vessels so that the fleet might avoid the threatened danger. one of the dispatch boats met it on the open sea, and gave it notice of the enemy's armada being over against cadiz, upon which warning the commander called a council of war in the ship _capitana_ to consider and fix upon the port which they ought to make for. at this meeting various views were expressed, for the french held that the fleet would be more secure in the ports of france, and especially in that of rochelle. of the same opinion were many of the spaniards, who were looking not to the interests of individuals, but to the public good. "and yet there were also seen the ill-consequences that might arise from the treasure not being conveyed to its proper destination and the possibility of the most christian king's finding some pretext which would endanger its safety." which is to say that if "his most christian majesty," louis xiv of france, who was safe-guarding the treasure, should once entice it into one of his own ports, he was likely to keep it there. and so the courteous spanish captains and the equally polite french captains eyed one another suspiciously in the cabin of the galleon and held council until it was decided to seek refuge in vigo bay on the coast of gallicia, thereby both dodging the english and remaining at a sufficient distance from france to spoil any designs which might be prompted by the greed of "his most christian majesty." ====================================================================== [illustration: the royal sovereign, one of admiral sir george rooke's line-of-battle ships, engaged at vigo bay.] ====================================================================== without mishap, the treasure fleet and the convoy anchored in the sheltered, narrow stretch of vigo harbor, and preparations for standing off an english attack were begun at once. the forts were manned, the militia called out, and a great chain boom stretched across the entrance of the inner roadstead. this was all very well in its way, but so incredible a comedy of blundering, stupid delay ensued that although for one whole month the galleons lay unmolested, the treasure was not unloaded and carried to safety ashore. in a letter from brussels, printed in the _london postman_ of november , , the grave results of this spanish procrastination were indicated in these words: "the last advices from spain and paris have caused great consternation here. the treasure and other goods brought by the said fleet are of such consequence to spain, and in particular to this province, that most of our traders are ruined if this fleet is taken and destroyed." while the english and their allies, the dutch, were making ready to take this treasure fleet bottled up in vigo bay, the officials of spain were so entangled in red tape that there seemed to be no way of unloading the galleons. a spanish writer of that era thus describes the lamentable state of affairs: "the commerce of cadiz maintained that nothing could be disembarked in gallicia,--that to unload the fleet was their privilege, and that the ships ought to be kept safe in the harbor of vigo, without discharging their cargoes, till the enemies were gone away. in addition to this, the settlement of the matter in the council of the indies was not so speedy as the emergency demanded,--both through the slowness and prudence natural to the spaniard, and through the diversity of opinions on the subject." don modesto lafuento, a later spanish historian, gravely explains that "as the arrival of the fleet at this port was unexpected and contrary to the usual custom, there was no officer to be found who could examine merchandise for the payment of duties, without which no disembarkation could be lawfully made. when notice of this was at length sent to the court, much discussion arose there as to who should be sent. they fixed upon don juan de larrea, but this councillor was in no hurry about setting out on his journey, and spent a long time in making it, and when he arrived he occupied himself with discussion about the disposition of the goods that had come in the fleet. this gave the opportunity for the anglo-dutch fleet, which had notice of everything, to set out and arrive in the waters of vigo before the disembarkation was effected." surely never was so much treasure so foolishly endangered, and although a small part of it was taken ashore, notwithstanding the asinine proceedings of the government and don juan de larrea, the english _post_ newspaper of november , asserted that "the spaniards, being informed that the enemy's fleet was returned home, sent aboard a great quantity of their plate which they had carried to land for fear of them." admiral sir cloudesley shovel had missed finding the treasure fleet at sea, but a lucky chance favored another sterling english commander, sir george rooke. he was homeward bound from a disastrous attempt to take cadiz, in which affair the duke of ormond had led the troops engaged. one of his ships, the _pembroke_, was detached from the fleet and while calling at lagos bay for water, the chaplain became friendly with a gentleman of the port who passed him word that the galleons and the french fleet were safe at vigo. this talkative informant proved to be a messenger from lisbon, sent by the german minister with dispatches for the treasure fleet which he had first sought in vain at cadiz. the chaplain carried the rare tidings to captain hardy of the _pembroke_ who instantly made sail to find sir george rooke and the english fleet, which was jogging along toward england. the admiral was "extream glad," says an old account, and "imparted the same immediately to the dutch admiral, declaring it his opinion that they should go directly to vigo." the dutchman and his tars joyfully agreed, and dalrymple, in his memoirs, relates that "at the sound of treasure from the south seas, dejection and animosity ceased, and those who a few days before would not speak when they met, now embraced and felicitated each other, etc. all the difficulties that had appeared to be mountainous at cadiz, dwindled into mole-hills at vigo. "the gunners agreed that their bombs would reach the town and the shipping; the engineers, that lodgments and works could easily be made; the soldiers, that there was no danger in landing; the seamen that the passage of the narrows could easily be forced, notwithstanding all the defenses and obstructions; and the pilots, that the depth of water was everywhere sufficient, and the anchorage safe. rooke's gout incommoded him no longer; he went from ship to ship, even in the night time, and became civil,--and the duke of ormond, with his father's generosity, his brother's and his own, forgot all that was past." these were the sentiments of men who had no more rations left aboard ship than two biscuits per day, whose fleet was leaky, battered, and unseaworthy after the hard fighting at cadiz, and who were going to attack a powerful array of french vessels, protected by numerous forts and obstructions, and supported by the seventeen galleons which in armament and crews were as formidable as men-of-war. at a council of flag officers called by sir george rooke, it was resolved: "that, considering the attempting and destroying these ships would be of the greatest advantage and honor to her majesty and her allies, and very much tend to the reducing of the power of france, the fleet should make the best of its way to the port of vigo, and insult them immediately with the whole line in case there was room enough for it, and if not, by such detachment as might render the attack most effective." in naval history no swifter and more deadly "insult" was ever administered than that which befell when sir george rooke, his gout forgotten, appeared before vigo and lost no time in coming to close quarters. he called a council of the general land and sea officers who concluded that "in regard the whole fleet could not without being in danger of being in a huddle, attempt the ships and galleons where they were, a detachment of fifteen english and ten dutch ships of the line of battle with all the fire ships should be sent to use their best endeavors to take or destroy the aforesaid ships of the enemy, and the frigates and bomb vessels should follow the rear of the fleet, and the great ships move after them to go in if there should be occasion." next morning the duke of ormond landed two thousand british infantry to take the forts and destroy the landward end of the boom, made of chain cables and spars which blocked the channel. these errands were accomplished with so much spirit and determination that the grenadiers fairly chased the spanish garrisons out of their works. rooke did not wait for the finish of this task, but flew the signal to get under way, vice admiral hopson leading in the _torbay_. british and dutch together, the wind blowing half a gale behind them, surged toward the inner harbor, stopped not for the boom but cut a way through it, and became engaged with the french men-of-war at close range. the hostile fleets were so jammed together that it was not a battle of broadsides. a spanish chronicler related that "they fought with fires of inhuman contrivance, hand grenades, fire-balls, and lumps of burning pitch." within one-half hour after the english and dutch had gained entrance to the bay, its surface was an inferno of blazing galleons and men-of-war. some of the french ships were carried with the cutlass and boarding pike, but fire was the chief weapon used by both sides. the flaming vessels drifted against each other, some of them set purposely alight and filled with explosives. when the galleons tried to move further up the bay, british troops on shore raked them with musketry, and prevented the attempts to put some of the treasure on land. the lofty treasure ships, their huge citadels rising fore and aft, and gay with carving and gilt, burned like so much tinder. the english had no desire to destroy these golden prizes, and as soon as the french fleet had been annihilated, every ship burned, sunk, captured, or driven ashore, heroic efforts were made to save the galleons still unharmed, "whereupon don manuel de velasco, who was not wanting in courage, but only in good fortune, ordered them to be set on fire.... the enemy saw the greater part of the treasure sunk in the sea. many perished seeking for riches in the middle of the flames; these, with those who fell in the battle, were english and dutch; were wounded, and one english three-decker was burnt. nevertheless, they took thirteen french and spanish ships, seven of which were men-of-war, and six merchantmen, besides some others much damaged and half-burnt. there fell spaniards and french, few escaped unwounded. "the day after the bloody battle, they sent down into the water a great many divers, but with little result, for the artillery of the city hindered them. so setting to work to embark their people, and covering their masts with flags and streamers, they celebrated their victory with flutes and fifes. thus they steered for their own ports, leaving that country full of sadness and terror." it was a prodigiously destructive naval engagement, the costliest in point of material losses that history records. the victors got much booty to take home to england and the netherlands, and were handsomely rewarded for their pains. sir george rooke carried to london the galleon _tauro_ which had escaped burning, and she had a mighty freight of bullion in her hold. of this ship the _post boy_ newspaper made mention, january , : "there was found in the galleon unloaded last week abundance of wrought plate, pieces of eight, and other valuable commodities, and so much that 'tis computed the whole cargo is worth £ , ." all records of that time and event agree, however, that the treasure saved by the allied fleet was no more than a small part of what was lost by the wholesale destruction of the galleons, and chiefly interesting to the present day are the most reliable estimates of the amount of gold and silver that still rests embedded in the tidal silt of vigo bay. there were sunk in water too deep to be explored by the engineers of that century eleven french men-of-war, and at least a round dozen of treasure laden galleons. the french fleet carried no small amount of gold and silver which had been entrusted to the admiral and his officers by merchants of the west indies. as for the galleons, the english _post_ of november , , stated: "three spanish officers belonging to the galleons, one of whom was the admiral of the assogna ships, are brought over who report that the effects that were on board amounted to nine millions sterling, and that the spaniards, for want of mules to carry the plate into the country, had broke the bulk of very few ships before the english forced the boom." the amount of the treasure is greatly underestimated in the foregoing assertion, for the annual voyage of the plate fleet had carried to spain an average lading worth from thirty to forty million dollars, and this doomed flota bore the accumulated treasure of three years. not more than ten million dollars in bullion and merchandise could have been looted by the dutch and english victors, according to the most reliable official records. our enthusiastic friend, signor don carlos iberti, he who had been "flying from province to province," in behalf of the latest treasure company of vigo bay, dug deep into the musty records of the "account books of the ministry of finance, of the colonies, of the royal treasury, of the commercio of cadiz, of the council of the west indies," and so on, and can tell you to the last peso how much gold and silver was sent from the mines of america in the treasure fleets, and precisely the value of the shipments entrusted to the magnificent flota of . a score of english authorities might be quoted to confirm what has been said of the vastness of this lost treasure. the event was the sensation of the time in europe, and many pens were busy chronicling in divers tongues the details of the catastrophe and the results thereof. in a letter from madrid which reached england a few days after the event, the writer lamented: "yesterday an express arrived from vigo with the melancholy news that the english and dutch fleets came before that place the nd past and having made themselves masters of the mouth of the river, in less than two hours took and burnt all the french men-of-war and galleons in the harbour. we have much greater reason to deplore our misfortune in silence and tears than to give you a particular account of this unspeakable loss, which will hasten the utter ruin of this our monarchy. "the inhabitants of this place, not being able to re-collect themselves from their consternation, have shut up their houses and shops for fear of being plundered by the common people who exclaim publicly against the government, and particularly against cardinal porto carrero and others of the council, who not being content with the free gift of three millions offered to the king out of the galleons, besides an _indulto_ of two millions, hindered the landing of the plate at vigo before the enemy arrived there. but the cardinal laid the blame upon the consultat of seville, who, mistrusting the french, would not suffer them to carry the galleons to brest or port lewis, but gave orders that they should sail back from vigo to cadiz after the english and dutch fleets were returned home. 'tis said that only three of the galleons put their cargo ashore before the arrival of the enemy." the news was a most bitter pill for his christian majesty, louis xiv of france, and put him and his court "into a mighty consternation." he was quoted as saying that "there was not one-tenth part of the plate and merchandise landed from on board the fleet. this is the most facetious piece of news that could come to the enemies of france and spain." all the records lay stress on the immense value of the treasure lost, one that "the spanish galleons were coming from mexico overladen with riches," another that "vast wealth in gold, silver, and merchandise was lost in that terrible battle of vigo," a third that "this was the richest flota that ever came into europe." it is extraordinary that most of this treasure has remained untouched for more than two centuries at the bottom of vigo bay. the records of the spanish government contain almost complete memoranda of every concession granted to searching parties, and of the valuables recovered, which total to date is no more than a million and a half of dollars. soon after the battle, spain began to fish for her lost galleons and in that same year of , the official newspaper of madrid recorded that "we are instructed from vigo that they are proceeding with success in the raising of the precious burden belonging to the _capitana_, and _almiranta_ of the flota." for some reason or other, the task was shortly abandoned, and the work turned over to private enterprise and companies which were granted special charters, the crown demanding as much as ninety-five per cent. of all the treasure recovered. during the half century following the loss of the fleet, as many as thirty of these concessions were granted, but most of them accomplished nothing. the first treasure hunter to achieve results worth mention was a frenchman, alexandre goubert, who went to work in , and after prodigious exertion succeeded in dragging almost ashore a hulk which turned put to be no galleon but one of the men-of-war of his own country, at which there was much merriment in "perfidious albion." this disgusted m. goubert and he was heard of no more. an englishman, william evans, tried a diving bell of his own invention in the same century, and raised many plates of silver, but a spanish concessionaire, jealous of this good fortune, persuaded his government that it was in bad taste to let history repeat itself by giving the english another fling at the treasure. in , time having softened these poignant memories, a scotchman was permitted to work in the bay, and local tradition affirms that he found much gold and silver, outwitting the officials at madrid who demanded eighty per cent. of his findings. the inspectors posted to keep watch of his operations he made comfortably drunk, bundled them ashore, clapped sail on his brigantine, and vanished with his booty. later a castle was built near perth in scotland, and given the name of dollar house. here the scotchman aforesaid "lived happily ever afterwards" for all that is known to the contrary. through the eighteenth century french, english, and spanish exploring parties were intriguing, quarreling, buying one another out, now and then finding some treasure, and locating the positions of most of the galleons. in , american treasure hunters invaded the bay, organized as the international submarine company, and hailing from philadelphia. nothing worth mention was done until these adventurous gentlemen after a good deal of bickering, made a fresh start under the name of the vigo bay treasure company. their affairs dragged along for a half century or so, during which they lifted one galleon from the bottom but the weight of mud in her hull broke her to small bits. a spanish war-vessel watched the operations, by night and day, the government being somewhat sensitive and suspicious ever since the flight of that scotchman and his brigantine. at last the american company was unable to get a renewal of its long drawn out concession, and for some time the galleons were left alone. it was in , that signor don carlos iberti obtained the "royal decree of concession" for the pino company, limited, of genoa, and now indeed there was to be treasure seeking in earnest. "until recently the search for the treasure in the bay of vigo seemed only an utopian mania," cried iberti. "those who set about the arduous enterprise were taken for mad scientists, rascals, or deceivers of innocent speculators. but for my part i shall always admire those bands of adventurers who sought to recover this treasure, from the first day after the battle until the present time." ====================================================================== [illustration: framework of an "elevator" devised by pino for raising the galleons in vigo bay.] an "elevator" with air bags inflated. photographed in vigo bay. (_by permission of the world's work, london._) ====================================================================== pino's first invention was a submarine boat which was tested with brilliant success before putting it into service at vigo bay. for the preliminary work of treasure finding, he perfected his hydroscope, a kind of sea telescope consisting of a floating platform from which depend a series of tubes ending in a chamber equipped with electric lamps, lenses and reflectors, like so many gigantic eyes through which the observer is able to view the illuminated bottom of bay or ocean. to lift the galleons bodily is pino's plan, and he has devised what he calls "elevators" or clusters of great bags of waterproofed canvas each capable of raising forty tons in the water when pumped full of air. these are placed in the hull of the sunken ship or attached outside, and when made buoyant by means of powerful air pumps, exert a lifting force easily comprehended. in addition, this ingenious italian engineer, who has made a science of treasure seeking, makes use of metal arms capable of embracing a rotting, flimsy hull, huge tongs which are operated by a floating equipment of sufficient engine power to lift whatever is made fast to. the japanese government successfully employed his submarine inventions in raising the russian war ships sunk at port arthur. already one of the spanish galleons has been brought to the surface of vigo bay, but she happened to have been laden with costly merchandise instead of plate, and her cargo was long since ruined by water and corrosion. the list of articles recovered during the searches of recent years is a fascinating catalogue to show that the story of the lost fleet is a true romance of history. i quote iberti who dwells with so much joyous enthusiasm over "the anchors, including that of the _misericordia_, of santa cruz, guns of different caliber, wood of various kinds, thirty gun carriages, wheels, mortars, silver spoons, mariner's compasses, enormous cables, innumerable balls and bombs, statuettes of inlaid gold, magnificently engraved pipe holders, mexican porcelain, tortas, or plates of silver, some weighing as much as eighty pounds; gold pieces stamped by the royal mint of mexico and ingots from peru." ====================================================================== [illustration: cannon of the treasure galleons recovered by pino from the bottom of vigo bay.] hydroscope invented by pino for exploring the sea bottom and successfully used in finding the galleons of vigo bay. (_by permission of the world's work, london._) ====================================================================== the latest of the concession held by pino and his company whose shareholders have invested large sums of real money, is an unusual document in that bona-fide treasure seeking seems so incongruous an industry in this twentieth century. it bears the signature of his excellency don jose ferrandiz, minister of the royal navy, and was granted on august , , to be in force until . the wording runs thus: "with this date, i say to the director general of the mercantile marine as follows: "most excellent sir,--having taken into consideration the petition presented by the italian subject, don carlos iberti, representing cav. don jose pino, inventor of the hydroscope apparatus for seeing, photographing, and recovering objects sunk to the bottom of the sea, in which petition he explains that he obtained a concession for the term of eight years to exploit what there is in the bay of vigo appertaining to the galleons which came from america, which concession was published in the _gaceta official_ of the th of january, ; that he was at the bay of vigo from the month of april until the end of the said year, carrying on dredging operations; but unforeseen difficulties prevented them from effecting a real and direct exploitation, so that the work accomplished was only preliminary, as that of seeing, examining, and studying the difficulties of the submarine bed, and the conditions in which the submerged galleons are; that having obtained all these data necessary for undertaking the work for recovery, in accord with the commander of the marine at vigo, and other gentlemen who constitute the council of inspection, they suspended the operations in order to study and construct new apparatus, more powerful and more adapted to this kind of operation, and they returned to italy with the intention of going again to vigo as soon as they had finished the new appliances with which to complete the work of recovery; that they have already spent large sums there, the greater part of which have gone to benefit the inhabitants of vigo; that in view of all this that has been put forward he prays for an extension on the same terms in which the concession was granted: "considering, that by granting him the solicited extension, the state interests would not be prejudiced, on the condition of its receiving per cent. of all that is recovered, irrespective of the artistic and historic value of the objects recovered: "_his majesty the king_ in accord with what has been proposed by the council of ministers, has deigned to grant the solicited extension on the same conditions which were already put in the concession, which are:-- "first,--the concessionaire shall utilize for all manual labor which shall be necessary, the small craft of the locality and sailors of the maritime department. "second,--the work once commenced shall be carried on without interruption unless there shall be justifiable cause to hinder it. "third,--he undertakes to give to the state per cent. of the value of the objects recovered. "fourth,--in fulfilment of what has been established by art. of the civil code, if any objects of interest to science or art or of any historic value should be extracted, they shall be given to the state, if it requires, and the state will pay the fair price, which will be fixed by experts, taking into account the expenses of their recovery. "which by royal decree i have the pleasure to announce to you for your knowledge and satisfaction. may god preserve you for many years." this long-winded proclamation seems faintly to echo of another and far distant day "appertaining to the galleons which came from america," that day on which the news of the catastrophe was received in the palace of madrid. gabriel de savoy, the child queen, then only fourteen years old and wed to philip v, heard the tidings of the battle of vigo bay, "on the day and hour which was fixed upon for her to go in public to give thanks to the virgin of atocha for the triumphs of the king, and to place in that temple the banners captured from the enemy in italy. this wise lady lamented bitterly such fatal news, but not wishing to discourage and afflict her people, she put on courage, and resolving to go forth presented herself with so serene a countenance as to impose upon all, who were astonished at her courage, and the ceremony was performed as if nothing had happened." vigo to-day is a pretty and thriving town of , people, with a large trade by sea, and fertile fields stretching between bay and mountain. round about are the ancient forts and castles which were stormed and battered by the grenadiers of the duke of ormond and the guns of the british and dutch ships under sir george rooke. vigo won a melancholy renown on that terrific day so long ago, and its blue waters have a haunting interest even now, recalling the glory of the age of the galleons and the wild romance of their voyaging from the spanish main. perhaps the ingenious don jose pino, with his modern machinery, may find the greatest treasure ever lost, certain as he is that "in dim green depths rot ingot-laden ships, with gold doubloons that from the drowned hand fell." at any rate, there is treasure-trove in the very story of that fight in vigo bay, in the contrast between the timid, blundering, procrastinating spanish, afraid to leave their gold and silver in the galleons, yet afraid to unload it; and the instant decision of the english admiral who cared not a rap for the odds. his business it was to smash the french fleet and destroy the plate ships, and he went about it like the ready, indomitable sea dog that he was. among the english state papers is the manuscript log-book of the captain of the torbay, flag ship of vice admiral hopson who led the attack. this is how a fighting seaman of the old school disposed of so momentous and severe a naval action as that of vigo bay, as if it were no more than a common-place item in the day's work: "this hours little wind, the latter part much rain and dirty weather. yesterday about in the afternoon we anchored before vigo town in fathoms water. this morning vice admiral hopson hoisted the red flag at our fore-topmast head in order to go ahead of the fleet to defeat the french and spanish galleons which lay up the river. about noon we weighed, having sent our soldiers on there to engage the forts which opposed our coming. we being come near, the forts fired at us. "about one o'clock, coming across the forts which were on each side the harbor, they fired smartly at us, and we fired our guns at both sides of them again, and went past and broke the boom which crossed the river to hinder our passage so that and men-of-war engaged us at once, but soon deserted, firing and burnt their ships. they sent a fireship which set us on fire." it was a very simple business, to hear the captain of the _torbay_ tell it, but the golden empire of spain was shaken from cadiz to panama, and gouty, dauntless sir george rooke helped mightily to hasten the end which was finally brought about by another admiral, george dewey by name, in that manila bay whence the treasure galleons of the east indies _flota_ had crossed the pacific to add their wealth to the glittering cargoes gathered by the viceroys of mexico and peru. chapter ix the pirates' hoard of trinidad of all the freebooters' treasure for which search is still made by means of curious information having to do with charts and other plausible records, the most famous are those buried on cocos islands in the pacific and on the rocky islet of trinidad in the south atlantic. these places are thousands of miles apart, the former off the coast of costa rica, the latter several hundred miles from the nearest land of brazil and not to be confused with the better known british colony of trinidad in the leeward islands group of the west indies. each of these treasures is of immense value, to be reckoned in millions of dollars, and their stories are closely interwoven because the plunder came from the same source at about the same time. both narratives are colored by piracy, bloodshed and mystery, that of cocos island perhaps the more luridly romantic of the two by reason of an earlier association with the english buccaneers of dampier's crew. each island has been dug over and ransacked at frequent intervals during the last century, and it is safe to predict that expeditions will be fitting out for cocos or trinidad for many years to come. the history of these notable treasures is a knotty skein to disentangle. athwart its picturesque pages marches a numerous company of bold and imaginative liars, every man of them ready to swear on a stack of bibles that his is the only true, unvarnished version of the events which caused the gold and jewels and plate to be hidden. however, when all the fable and fancy are winnowed out, the facts remaining are enough to make any red-blooded adventurer yearn to charter a rakish schooner and muster a crew of kindred spirits. during the last days of spanish rule on the west coast of south america, the wealthiest city left of that vast domain won by the conquistadores and held by the viceroys, was lima, the capital of peru. founded in by francisco pizarro, it was the seat of the government of south america for centuries. the viceregal court was maintained in magnificent state, and the archbishop of lima was the most powerful prelate of the continent. here the religious orders and the inquisition had their centers. of the almost incredible amount of gold and silver taken from the mines of the country, much remained in lima to pile up fortunes for the grandees and officials, or to be fashioned into massy ornaments for the palaces, residences, churches, and for the great cathedral which still stands to proclaim the grandeur that was spain's in the olden days. ====================================================================== [illustration: lima cathedral] ====================================================================== when bolivar, the liberator, succeeded in driving the spanish out of venezuela, and in set up the free republic of colombia, the ruling class of peru took alarm which increased to panic as soon as it was known that the revolutionary forces were organizing to march south and assault lima itself. there was a great running to and fro among the wealthy spanish merchants, the holders of fat positions under the viceroy, and the gilded idlers who swaggered and ruffled it on riches won by the swords of their two-fisted ancestors. it was feared that the rebels of bolivar and san martin would loot the city, and confiscate the treasure, both public and private, which consisted of bullion, plate, jewels, and coined gold. precious property to the value of six million sterling was hurried into the fortress of lima for safe keeping and after the capture of the city by the army of liberation, lord dundonald, the english admiral in command of the chilian fleet assisting the revolutionists, offered to let the spanish governor depart with two-thirds of this treasure if he would surrender the remainder and give up the fortifications without a fight. the peruvian liberator, san martin, set these terms aside, however, and allowed the spanish garrison to evacuate the place, carrying away the six million sterling. this immense treasure was soon scattered far and wide, by sea and land. it was only part of the riches dispersed by the conquest of san martin and his patriots. the people of lima, hoping to send their fortunes safe home to spain before the plundering invaders should make a clean sweep, put their valuables on board all manner of sailing vessels which happened to be in harbor, and a fugitive fleet of merchantmen steered out from the hostile coast of peru, the holds piled with gold and silver, the cabins crammed with officials of the state and church and other residents of rank and station. at the same time there was sent to sea the treasure of the great cathedral of lima, all its jeweled chalices, monstrances, and vestments, the solid gold candle-sticks and shrines, the vast store of precious furniture and ornaments, which had made this one of the richest religious edifices of the world. there had not been so much dazzling booty afloat at one time since the galleon plate fleets were in their heyday during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. in there were no more of those great buccaneers and gentlemen adventurers who had singed the beard of the king of spain in the wake of francis drake. they had sailed and fought and plundered for glory as well as gain, or for revenge as much as for doubloons. their successors as sea rovers were pirates of low degree, base wretches of a sordid commercialism who preyed on honest merchant skippers of all flags, and had little taste for fighting at close quarters. the older race of sea rogues had been wolves; the pirates of the early nineteenth century were jackals. many a one of these gentry got wind of the fabulous treasure that had been sent afloat from lima, and there is no doubt that much of it failed to reach spain. while in some instances, these fleeing ships were boarded and scuttled by pirate craft, in others the lust of gold was too strong for the seamen to whom the rare cargoes had been entrusted, and they rose and took the riches away from their hapless passengers. it has been believed by one treasure seeking expedition after another, even to this day, that captain thompson of the british trading brig, _mary dear_ received on board in the harbor of lima as much as twelve million dollars' worth of gold and silver, and that he and his crew, after killing the spanish owners, sailed north in the pacific and buried the booty on cocos island. captain thompson somehow escaped and joined a famous pirate of that time, benito bonito, who accumulated a large treasure which he also buried on cocos island. the british admiralty records show that bonito was overhauled in his turn by the frigate _espiegle_ and that rather than be hanged in chains, he very handsomely blew out his brains on his own deck. this same treasure of lima, or part of it, furnished the foundation of the story belonging to the volcanic islet of trinidad in the south atlantic. one version of this is that the pirates who chose this hiding-place had been the crew of a fast english schooner in the slave trade. while at sea they disposed of their captain by the unpleasant method of pinning him to the mainmast with a boarding pike through his vitals. then the black flag was hoisted and with a new skipper they stood to the southward, finding a great amount of plunder in a portuguese ship which had on board a "jew diamond dealer" among other valuable items. after taking an east indiaman, and other tempting craft, they buried the total proceeds on the desolate, uninhabited island of trinidad, intending to return for it before the end of the cruise. unfortunately, for the successful pirates, they ran afoul of a heavily armed and manned merchant vessel which shot away their rudder, tumbled their spars about their rascally ears, boarded them with great spirit and determination, and clapped the shackles on the twenty gentlemen of fortune who had survived the engagement. these were carried into havana and turned over to the spanish authorities who gleefully hanged nineteen, not twenty, mark you, for one had to make a marvelous escape in order to hand down the secret of the treasure to posterity. this survivor died in bed in england at a very great age, so the story runs, and of course he had a chart to set the next generation to digging. the earlier statements of this narrative may be cast aside as worthless. the real, true pirate of trinidad was not in the slave schooner which captured the "jew diamond dealer" of the portuguese ship. an odd confusion of facts caused the mistake. while benito bonito was harrying the spanish shipping of the pacific and burying his treasure on cocos island, there was on the atlantic a bloodthirsty pirate by the name of benito de soto. he was a spaniard who sailed out of buenos aires in the year , bound to africa to smuggle a cargo of slaves. the crew was composed of french, spanish, and portuguese desperadoes, and led by the mate and de soto they marooned the captain and ran away with the ship on a pirate voyage. they plundered and burned and slaughtered without mercy, their most nefarious exploit being the capture of the british merchant ship _morning star_, bound from ceylon to england in , and carrying as passengers several army officers and their wives and twenty-five invalided soldiers. after the most fiendish conduct, de soto and his crew, drove the survivors into the hold of the _morning star_, and fastened the hatches, leaving the vessel to founder, for they had taken care to bore numerous auger holes in her bottom. by a miracle of good fortune, the prisoners forced the hatches and were taken off next day by a passing vessel. benito de soto met his end as the result of being wrecked in his own ship off the spanish coast. he was caught in gibraltar and hanged by the english governor. an army officer who saw him turned off related that he was a very proper figure of a pirate, "there was no driveling fears upon him,--he walked firmly at the tail of the fatal cart, gazing sometimes at his coffin, sometimes at the crucifix which he held in his hand. this he frequently pressed to his lips, repeated the prayers spoken in his ear by the attendant clergyman, and seemed regardless of everything but the world to come. the gallows was erected beside the water, and fronting neutral ground. he mounted the cart as firmly as he had walked behind it, and held up his face to heaven and the beating rain, calm, resigned, but unshaken; and finding the halter too high for his neck, he boldly stepped upon his coffin, and placed his head in the noose. then watching the first turn of the wheels, he murmured, 'farewell, all,' and leaned forward to facilitate his fall ... the black boy was acquitted at cadiz, but the men who had fled to the caracas, as well as those arrested after the wreck, were convicted, executed, their limbs severed and hung on iron hooks, as a warning to all other pirates." this benito, who died so much better than he had lived, was not hanged at havana, it will be perceived, and the version of the trinidad treasure story already outlined is apparently a hodgepodge of the careers of benito de soto, and of benito of cocos island, with a flavor of fact in so far as it refers to the twenty pirates who were carried to cuba to be strung up, or garroted. the spanish archives of that island record that this gang was executed and that they had been found guilty of plundering ships sailing from lima shortly after the city had been entered by the revolutionists. their association with the island of trinidad is explained herewith as it was told to e. f. knight, an englishman, who organized and commanded an expedition which sailed in search of the treasure in . there was at that time near newcastle, england, a retired sea captain who had been in command of an east indiaman engaged in the opium trade in the years to . "the china seas were then infested by pirates," said mr. knight's informant, "so that his vessel carried a few guns and a larger crew than is usual in these days. he had four quarter-masters, one of whom was a foreigner. the captain was not sure of his nationality but thought he was a finn. on board the vessel the man went under the name of 'the pirate' because of a deep scar across his cheek which gave him a somewhat sinister appearance. he was a reserved man, better educated than the ordinary sailor, and possessing a good knowledge of navigation. "the captain took a liking to him, and showed him kindness on various occasions. this man was attacked by dysentery on the voyage from china to bombay, and by the time the vessel reached port he was so ill, in spite of the captain's nursing, that he had to be taken to the hospital. he gradually sank, and when he found that he was dying he told the captain, who frequently visited him, that he felt very grateful for the kind treatment given him, and that he would prove his gratitude by revealing a secret which might make his captain one of the richest men in england. he then asked the skipper to go to his chest and take out from it a parcel. this contained a piece of old tarpaulin with a plan of an island of trinidad upon it. "the dying soldier told him that at the spot indicated, that is at the base of the mountain known as sugar loaf, there was an immense treasure buried, consisting principally of gold and silver plate and ornaments, the plunder of peruvian churches which certain pirates had concealed there in the year . much of this plate, he said, came from the cathedral of lima, having been carried away from there during the war of independence, when the spaniards were escaping the country and that among other riches were several massive gold candle-sticks. "he further stated that he was the only survivor of the pirates, as all the others had been captured by the spaniards and executed in cuba some years before, and consequently it was probable that no one but himself knew the secret. he then gave the captain instructions as to the exact position of the treasure in the bay under the sugar loaf, and enjoined him to go there and search for it, as it was almost certain that it had not been removed." mr. knight, who was a young barrister of london, investigated this story with much diligence, and discovered that the captain aforesaid had sent his son to trinidad in to try to identify the marks shown on the old pirate's tarpaulin chart. he landed from a sailing ship, did no digging for lack of equipment, but reported that the place tallied exactly with the description, although a great landslide of reddish earth had covered the place where the treasure was hid. this evidence was so convincing that in an expedition was organized among several adventurous gentlemen of south shields who chartered a bark of six hundred tons, the _aurea_, and fitted her at a large outlay with surf boats, picks, shovels, timber, blasting powder, and other stores. this party found the island almost inaccessible because of the wild, rock-bound coast, the huge breakers which beat about it from all sides, and the lack of harbors and safe anchorage. after immense difficulty, eight men were landed, with a slender store of provisions and a few of the tools. the dismal aspect of the island, the armies of huge land crabs which tried to devour them, the burning heat, and the hard labor without enough food or water, soon disheartened this band of treasure seekers, and they dug no more than a small trench before courage and strength forsook them. signaling to their ships, they were taken off, worn out and ill, and thus ended the efforts of the expedition. in the same year, an american skipper chartered a french sailing vessel in rio janeiro, and sailed for trinidad with four portuguese sailors to do his digging for him. they were ashore several days, but found no treasure, and vanished from the story after this brief fling with the dice of fortune. now, knight was of different stuff from these other explorers. he was a first-class amateur seaman who had sailed his yacht _falcon_ to south america in , and was both experienced and capable afloat and ashore. while bound from montevideo to bahia he had touched at trinidad, curious to see this remote islet so seldom visited. this was before he heard the buried treasure story. therefore when he became acquainted, several years later, with the chart and information left by the old pirate, he was able to verify the details of his own knowledge, and he roundly affirmed: "in the first place, his carefully prepared plan of the island, the minute directions he gave as to the best landing, and his description of the features of the bay on whose shores the treasure was concealed, prove beyond doubt to myself and others who know trinidad, that he, or if not himself some informant of his, had landed on this so rarely visited islet; and not only landed but passed some time on it, and carefully surveyed the approaches to the bay, so as to be able to point out the dangers and show the safest passage through the reefs. this information could not have been obtained from any pilot-book. the landing recommended by previous visitors is at the other side of the island. this bay is described by them as inaccessible, and the indications on the admiralty chart are completely erroneous. "and beyond this, the quartermaster must have been acquainted with what was taking place in two other distant portions of the world during the year of his professed landing on the desert island. he knew of the escape of pirates with the cathedral plate of lima. he was also aware that, shortly afterwards, there were hanged in cuba the crew of a vessel that had committed acts of piracy on the peruvian coast. "it is scarcely credible that an ordinary seaman,--even allowing that he was superior in education to the average of his fellows,--could have pieced these facts together so ingeniously into this plausible story." this argument has merit and it was persuasive enough to cause knight to buy the staunch cutter _alerte_, muster a company of gentlemen volunteers, ship a crew, and up anchor from southampton for trinidad. there was never a better found treasure expedition than this in the _alerte_. the nine partners, each of whom put up one hundred pounds toward the expenses, were chosen from one hundred and fifty eager applicants. articles of agreement provided that one-twentieth of the treasure recovered was to be received by each adventurer and he in turn bound himself to work hard and obey orders. in the equipment was a drilling apparatus for boring through earth and rock, an hydraulic jack for lifting huge bowlders, portable forge and anvil, iron wheel-barrows, crow-bars, shovels and picks galore, a water distilling plant, a rapid fire gun, and a full complement of repeating rifles and revolvers. a few days before the _alerte_ was ready to sail from southampton an elderly naval officer boarded the cutter and was kind enough to inform mr. knight of another buried treasure which he might look for on his route to trinidad. the story had been hidden for many years among the documents of the admiralty, and as a matter of government record, it is, of course, perfectly authentic. in , the secretary of the admiralty instructed sir richard bickerton, commanding at portsmouth, to send in the first king's ship touching at madeira a seaman who had given information concerning a hidden treasure, in order that the truth of his story might be tested. the admiralty order was entrusted to captain hercules robinson of the _prometheus_ and in his report he states that "after being introduced to the foreign seaman referred to in the above letter, and reading the notes which had been taken of his information, he charged him to tell no person what he knew or what was his business, that he was to mess with the captain's coxswain, and that no duty would be required of him. to this the man replied that that was all he desired, that he was willing to give his time, and would ask no remuneration for his intelligence." while the _prometheus_ was anchored at funchal, madeira, captain robinson closely questioned the mysterious seaman whose name was christian cruse. he declared that he had been in a hospital ill of yellow fever, several years before, and with him was a shipmate, a spaniard, who died of the same malady. before his death he told cruse that in he had been in a spanish ship, from south america to cadiz, with two millions of silver in chests. when nearing the coast of spain, they were signaled by a neutral vessel that england had declared war and that cadiz was blockaded. rather than risk capture by the british fleet, and unwilling to run all the way back to south america, the captain resolved to try to gain the nearest of the west indies and save his treasure. passing to the southward of madeira, a cluster of small, uninhabited islands, called the salvages, was sighted. thereupon the crew decided that it was foolishness to continue the voyage. the captain was accordingly stabbed to death with a dirk, and the ship steered to an anchorage. the chests of spanish dollars were landed in a small bay, a deep trench dug in the sand above highwater mark, and the treasure snugly buried, the body of the captain deposited in a box on top of it. the mutineers then sought the spanish main where they intended to burn their ship, buy a small vessel under british colors, and return to carry off the two million dollars. near tobago they suffered shipwreck because of poor navigation and only two were saved. one died ashore, and the other was the spanish seaman who made the dying declaration to christian cruse in the hospital at vera cruz. captain hercules robinson was a seasoned officer of his majesty's navy, used to taking sailors' yarns with a grain of salt, but that he was convinced of the good faith of christian cruse and of the truth of the narrative is shown by his interesting comments, as he wrote them down a century ago: "may cruse not have had some interested object in fabricating this story? why did he not tell it before? is not the cold-blooded murder inconceivable barbarity, and the burying the body over the treasure too dramatic and buccaneer-like? or might not the spaniard have lied from love of lying and mystifying his simple shipmate, or might he not have been raving? "as to the first difficulty, i have the strongest conviction of the honesty of christian cruse, and i think i could hardly be grossly deceived as to his character, and his disclaiming any reward unless the discovery was made, went to confirm my belief that he was an honest man. and then as to his withholding the information for four or five years, be it remembered that the war with denmark might have truly shut him out from any intercourse with england. next as to the wantonness and indifference with which the murder was perpetrated, i am afraid there is no great improbability in this. i have witnessed a disregard of human life in matters of promotion in our service, etc., which makes the conduct of these spaniards under vehement temptation, and when they could do as they pleased, sufficiently intelligible. "but certainly the coffin over the treasure looked somewhat theatrical and gave it the air of sadler's wells, or a novel, rather than matter of fact. i enquired, therefore, from christian cruse why the body of the captain was thus buried, and he replied that he understood the object was, that in case any person should find the marks of their proceedings and dig to discover what they had been about, they might come to the body and go no further." after further reflection, captain robinson convinced himself that the spanish seaman had been clear-headed when he made his confession to cruse, and that it would have been beyond him deliberately to invent the statement as fiction. the _prometheus_ was headed for the salvages, and arriving off the largest of these islands, a bay was found and a level white patch of beach above high water mark situated as had been described to christian cruse. fifty sailors were sent ashore to dig with shovels and boarding pikes, making the sand fly in the hope of winning the reward of a hundred dollars offered to the man who found the murdered captain's coffin. the search lasted only one day because the anchorage was unsafe and captain robinson was under orders to return to madeira. arriving there, other orders recalled his ship to england for emergency duty and the treasure hunt was abandoned. so far as known, no other attempt had been made to find the chests of dollars until mr. knight decided to act on the information and explore the salvages in passing. of this little group of islands it was decided by the company of the _alerte_ that the one called the great piton most closely answered the description given christian cruse by the spanish pirate. a bay was found with a strip of white sand above high-water mark, and mr. knight and his shipmates pitched a camp nearby and had the most sanguine expectations of bringing to light the rude coffin of the murdered captain. a series of trenches was opened up after a systematic plan, and some crumbling bones discovered, but the ship's surgeon refused to swear that they had belonged to a human being. the trouble was that the surface of the place had been considerably changed by the action of waves and weather, which made the admiralty charts of a century before very misleading. the destination of the _alerte_ was trinidad, after all, and the visit to the salvages was only an incident, so the search was abandoned after four days. in all probability, the treasure of the salvages is still in its hiding-place, and any adventurous young gentlemen seeking a field of operations will do well to consult for themselves the documentary evidence of captain hercules robinson and christian cruse, as filed among the records of the british admiralty office. trinidad is a much more difficult island to explore than any of the salvages group. in fact, this forbidding mass of volcanic rock is a little bit of inferno. it is sometimes impossible to make a landing through the surf for weeks at a time, and when a boat makes the attempt in the most favorable circumstances, the venture is a hazard of life and death. as a vivid summary of the aspect of this lonely treasure island, i quote from mr. knight, because he is the only man who has ever described trinidad at first hand: "as we neared it, the features of this extraordinary place could gradually be distinguished. the north side, that which faced us, is the most barren and desolate portion of the island, and appears to be utterly inaccessible. here the mountains rise sheer from the boiling surf,--fantastically shaped of volcanic rock; cloven by frightful ravines; lowering in perpendicular precipices; in places overhanging threateningly, and, where the mountains have been shaken to pieces by the fires and earthquakes of volcanic action, huge landslips slope steeply in the yawning ravines,--landslips of black and red volcanic debris, and loose rocks large as houses, ready on the slightest disturbance to roll down, crashing, into the abysses below. on the summit of the island there floats almost constantly, even on the clearest day, a wreath of dense vapor, never still, but rolling and twisting into strange shapes as the wind eddies among the crags. and above this cloud-wreath rise mighty pinnacles of coal-black rock, like the spires of some gigantic gothic cathedral piercing the blue southern sky. it would be impossible to convey in words a just idea of the mystery of trinidad. the very coloring seemed unearthly, in places dismal black, and in others the fire-consumed crags are of strange metallic hues, vermilion red and copper yellow. when one lands on its shores, this uncanny impression is enhanced. it bears all the appearances of being an accursed spot, whereupon no creatures can live, save the hideous land-crabs and foul and cruel sea birds." an ideal place, this, for pirates to bury treasure, you will agree, and good for nothing else under heaven. the south atlantic directory, the shipmaster's guide, states that "the surf is often incredibly great, and has been seen to break over a bluff which is two hundred feet high." trinidad was first visited by halley, the astronomer, after whom the famous comet was named, who called there in when he was a captain in the royal navy. captain amos delano, the yankee pioneer in the far eastern trade, made a call in , prompted by curiosity, but as a rule mariners have given the island a wide berth, now and then touching there when in need of water or fresh meat in the shape of turtles. at one time the portuguese attempted to found a settlement on trinidad, probably before the forests had been killed by some kind of volcanic upheaval. the ruins of their stone huts are still to be seen as humble memorials of a great race of explorers and colonists in the golden age of that nation. with tremendous exertion, the party from the _alerte_ was landed with its tools and stores, and headquarters established close to the ravine which was believed to be the hiding-place of the treasure as indicated by the chart and information of the finn quartermaster with the scar across his cheek. it was found that there had been no actual landslide, but the ravine was choked with large bowlders which at various times had fallen from the cliffs above. these were packed together by the red earth silting and washing during the rainy season when the ravines were flooded. along the whole of the windward coast were found innumerable fragments of wreckage, spars, timbers, barrels. from the position of the island, in the belt of the southeast trade winds, many derelict vessels must have been driven ashore. some of this immense accumulation of stuff may have lain there for centuries, or ever since vessels first doubled the cape of good hope. here and there were the gaunt rows of ribs to show where a ship had been stranded bodily, and doubtless much valuable property in silver and gold, in bars, ingots, and doubloons, lies buried in the shattered hulks of these old dutch east indiamen, and galleons from peru. as particular landmarks near the ravine, the pirate had mentioned three cairns which he and his comrades had heaped up. sure enough, the previous treasure seekers of the _aurea_ expedition from england had found the three cairns, but foolishly demolished them on the chance that gold might be buried underneath. mr. knight could find traces of only one of them, and he discovered also a water-jar, a broken wheel-barrow and other tools to show where the others had been digging. the crew of the _alerte_ were confident that they were at the right place, and they set to work with the most admirable zeal and fortitude, enduring hardships cheerfully, and during the three months of their labors on trinidad, removing earth and rock literally by the thousands of tons, until the ravine was scooped out to a depth of from eight to twenty feet. their vessel had to anchor far off shore, and once forsook them for a fourteen hundred mile voyage to bahia to get provisions. these london lawyers and other gentlemen unused to toil with the hands became as tough and rough and disreputable to see as the pirates who had been there aforetime. in costume of shirt, trousers, and belt, they became ragged and stained from head to foot with the soil, and presented a uniform, dirty, brownish, yellow appearance like so many brazilian convicts. their surf boat was wrecked or upset at almost every attempt to land or to go off to the _alerte_, and when they were not fishing one another out of the surf, they were diving to recover their submerged and scattered stores. their leader, mr. knight, paid them a tribute of which they must have been proud: "they had toiled hard and had kept up their spirits all the while and what is really wonderful under circumstances so calculated to try the temper and wear out the patience, they had got on exceedingly well with each other, and there had been no quarreling or ill feeling of any sort." at length the melancholy verdict was agreed upon in council. all the bright dreams of carrying home a fortune for every adventurer were reluctantly dismissed. the men were worn to the bone, and it was becoming more and more difficult to maintain communication with the _alerte_. the prodigious excavation was abandoned, and mr. knight indulged himself in a soliloquy as he surveyed the "great trenches, the piled-up mounds of earth, the uprooted rocks, with broken wheelbarrows and blocks, worn-out tools, and other relics of our three months strewn over the ground; and it was sad to think that all the energy of these men had been spent in vain. they well deserved to succeed, and all the more so because they bore their disappointment with so much pluck and cheerfulness." but, in truth, the expedition had not been in vain. the toilers had been paid in richer stuff than gold. they had lived the true romance, nor could a man of spirit and imagination wish for anything more to his taste than to be encamped on a desert island, with the surf shouting in his ears, the sea birds crying, all hands up with daybreak to dig for buried treasure whose bearings were found on a tarpaulin chart that had belonged to a pirate with a deep scar across his cheek. how it would have delighted the heart of robert louis stevenson to be one of this company of the _alerte_ at trinidad! the gallant little vessel, only sixty-four feet long she was, filled away for the west indies, homeward bound, while the men aboard amused themselves by wondering how many nations might have laid claim to the treasure, had it been found;--england which hoisted its flag on trinidad in ; portugal because portuguese from brazil made a settlement there in ; brazil, because the island lay off her coast; spain, to whom the treasure had belonged, and peru from whose cathedral it was taken, and lastly the roman church. in conclusion, mr. knight, to whose fascinating narrative, "the cruise of the _alerte_," i am indebted for the foregoing information, sums it up like a true soldier of fortune: "well, indeed, it was for us that we had not found the pirates' gold; for we seemed happy enough as we were, and if possessed of this hoard, our lives would of a certainty have become a burden to us. we should be too precious to be comfortable. we should degenerate into miserable, fearsome hypochondriacs, careful of our means of transit, dreadfully anxious about what we ate or drank, miserably cautious about everything. 'better far, no doubt,' exclaimed these cheerful philosophers, 'to remain the careless, happy paupers that we are.' "'do you still believe in the existence of the treasure?' is a question that has been often put to me since my return. knowing all i do, i have very little doubt that the story of the finn quartermaster is substantially true,--that the treasures of lima were hidden on trinidad; but whether they have been taken away, or whether they are still there and we failed to find them because we were not in possession of one link of the directions, i am unable to say." in later years, e. f. knight became a war correspondent, and lost an arm in the boer campaign. i met him at key west during the spanish war in which he represented _the london times_ and found him to be a solid, well-ballasted man who knew what he was about and not at all one to have gone treasure seeking without excellent reasons. that he was adventurous in his unassuming way he proved by landing on the cuban coast near havana in order to interview the spanish captain-general. a newspaper dispatch boat ran close in shore, the skipper risking being blown out of water by the batteries of morro castle, and knight was transferred to a tiny flat-bottomed skiff of the tonnage of a bath-tub. equipped with a note-book, revolver, water bottle, and a small package of sandwiches, he said good-by in his very placid manner, and was seen to be standing on his head in the surf a few minutes later. he scrambled ashore, probably recalling to mind a similar style of landing on the coast of trinidad, and vanished in the jungle. that he ran grave danger of being potted for an _americano_ by the first spanish patrol he encountered appeared to give him no concern whatever. it was easy to perceive that he must have been the right kind of man to lead a treasure-hunting expedition. since the _alerte_ sailed on her dashing quest in , the pirates' gold of trinidad has figured in an adventure even more fantastic. many readers will doubtless remember the career of the late baron james harden-hickey who attempted to establish a kingdom of his own on the islet of trinidad. he belonged in another age than this and he was laughed at rather more than he deserved. duelist, editor, _boulevardier_, fond of the tinsel and trappings of life, he married the daughter of john h. flagler of the standard oil company and with funds from this excessively commercial source created a throne, a court, and a kingdom. he had seen the island of trinidad from a british merchant ship in which he went round the horn in , and the fact that this was a derelict bit of real estate, to which no nation thought it worth while to lay formal claim, appealed to his active imagination. a would-be king has difficulty in finding a stray kingdom nowadays, and harden-hickey bothered his head not in the least over the problem of populating this god-forsaken jumble of volcanic rock and ashes. ere long he blossomed forth most gorgeously in paris and new york as king james i of the principality of trinidad. there was a royal cabinet, a minister of foreign affairs, a chancellerie, and uniforms, court costumes, and regalia designed by the king himself. most dazzling of all the equipment was the order of the insignia of the cross of trinidad, a patent and decoration of nobility to be bestowed on those deemed worthy of the signal honor. the newspapers bombarded king james i with gibes and jeers, but he took himself with immense, even tragic seriousness, and issued a prospectus of the settlement of his kingdom, inviting an aristocracy of intellect and good breeding to comprise the ruling class, while the hard work was to be done by hired menials. he mustered on paper some kind of a list of resources of trinidad, although he was hard put to name anything very tangible, and laid special stress on the buried treasure. it was to be dug up by the subjects and, if found, to be divided among the patriots who had bought the securities issued by the royal treasury. surely a pirates' treasure was never before gravely offered among the assets of a kingdom, but king james had no sense of humor, and the lost treasure was as real to him as any other of his marvelous dreams. some work was actually done at trinidad, building material landed, a vessel chartered to run from brazil, and a few misguided colonists recruited, when in the british government ruthlessly knocked the principality of trinidad into a cocked hat and toppled over the throne of king james i. the island was wanted as a cable landing or relay station, and a naval officer raised the red ensign to proclaim annexation by reason of halley's discovery in . at this brazil set up a protest on the ground that her portuguese had been the original settlers. while the diplomats of these two powers were politely locking horns over the question of ownership, that unfortunate monarch, king james i of the principality of trinidad, baron harden-hickey of the holy roman empire, perceived that his realm had been pulled out from under him, so to speak. whichever nation won the dispute it meant no comfort for him. trinidad was no longer a derelict island and he was a king without a kingdom. he surrendered not one jot or tittle of his rights, and to his minister of foreign affairs he solemnly bequeathed the succession and the claim to proprietorship. and among these rights and privileges was the royal interest in the buried treasure. harden-hickey, when he could no longer live a king, died as he thought befitting a gentleman, by his own hand. it seems a pity that he could not have been left alone to play at being king, and to find the pirates' gold. chapter x the lure of cocos island it will be recalled that lord bellomont, in writing to his government of the seizure of kidd and his treasure, made mention of "a pirate committed who goes by the name of captain davis, that came passenger with kidd from madagascar. i suppose him to be that captain davis that dampier and wafer speak of in their printed relations of voyages, for an extraordinary stout[ ] man; but let him be as stout as he will, here he is a prisoner, and shall be forthcoming upon the order i receive from england concerning him." if bellomont was right in this surmise, then he had swept into his drag-net one of the most famous and successful buccaneers of the seventeenth century, a man who must have regarded the alleged misdeeds of kidd as much ado about nothing. very likely it was this same captain edward davis who may have been at the east indies on some lawful business of his own, but he had no cause for anxiety at being captured by bellomont as a suspicious character. he had honorably retired in from his trade of looting spanish galleons and treasure towns, in which year the king's pardon was offered all buccaneers who would quit that way of life and claim the benefit of the proclamation. it is known that he was afterwards in england, where he dwelt in quietness and security. william dampier mentions him always with peculiar respect. "though a buccaneer, he was a man of much sterling worth, being an excellent commander, courageous, never rash, and endued in a superior degree with prudence, moderation, and steadiness, qualities in which the buccaneers generally have been most deficient. his character is not stained with acts of cruelty; on the contrary, wherever he commanded, he restrained the ferocity of his companions. it is no small testimony to his abilities that the whole of the buccaneers in the south sea during his time, in every enterprise wherein he bore part, voluntarily placed themselves under his guidance, and paid him obedience as their leader; and no symptom occurs of their having at any time wavered in this respect or shown inclination to set up a rival authority.[ ] during the kidd proceedings, the crown officers made out no case against edward davis, and he appears at the trial only as a witness in kidd's behalf. he testified in corroboration of the fact that kidd had brought home the two french passes taken out of his captures, and his experienced mind was quick to recognize the importance of the documents as a sound defense against the charges of piracy. curiously enough, the name of captain edward davis has since been linked with a buried treasure story, that of cocos island in the pacific. certain it is that he and his comrades took great spoils along the spanish coasts of south america and the isthmus, and that he used cocos island as a convenient base for careening ship and recuperating the health of his hard-fighting, careless crew. wafer has given the following description of this popular resort for treasure seekers of modern times: "the middle of cocos island is a steep hill, surrounded with a plain declining to the sea. this plain is thick set with cocoanut trees; but what contributes greatly to the pleasure of the place is that a great many springs of clear and sweet water, rising to the top of the hill, are there gathered as in a deep large basin or pond, and the water having no channel, it overflows the verge of its basin in several places, and runs trickling down in pleasant streams. in some places of its overflowing, the rocky side of the hill being more perpendicular and hanging over the plain beneath, the water pours down in a cataract, so as to leave a dry space under the spout, and form a kind of arch of water. the freshness which the falling water gives the air in this hot climate makes this a delightful place. "we did not spare the cocoa-nuts. one day, some of our men being minded to make themselves merry went ashore and cut down a great many cocoa-nut trees, from which they gathered the fruit, and drew about twenty gallons of the milk. they then sat down and drank healths to the king and queen, and drank an excessive quantity; yet it did not end in drunkenness; but this liquor so chilled and benumbed their nerves that they could neither go nor stand. nor could they return on board without the help of those who had not been partakers of the frolic, nor did they recover under four or five days' time."[ ] captain edward davis had found this delectable islet during a singularly adventurous voyage. the english buccaneers and the french _filibustiers_ who had long cruised in the west indies, were driven from their haunts by the vigorous activity of the european governments, and in an expedition was organized to go pirating against the spaniards in the pacific, or the "south sea." dampier was of this number, also captain john cook, captain edward davis, and lionel wafer who wrote the journal of the voyage. the scheme was hatched on the coast of hispaniola, and after taking two prizes, french vessels, to virginia to be sold, the company seventy strong, and most of them old hands at this game, stood out from the chesapeake in an eighteen-gun ship called the _revenge_. off the coast of guinea they found a large danish ship which better suited their purpose, wherefore she was carried by boarding. they christened her the _batchelor's delight_, and abandoned their old vessel which was burned, "that she might tell no tales." in february of , they rounded cape horn and made for the island of juan fernandez, which several of the company had previously visited with watling. then sailing northward, the ship visited the galapagos islands to catch turtle, and bore away for cocos which was missed because of adverse winds and faulty navigation. on this stretch of the voyage, the _batchelor's delight_ passed what was known as the isle of plate, or drake's island, in latitude min. sec. s., which has an alluring lost treasure story of its own. says esquemeling: "this island received its name from sir francis drake and his famous actions, for here it is reported by tradition that he made the dividend or sharing of that quantity of plate which he took in the armada of this sea, distributing it to each man of his company by whole bowls full. the spaniards affirm to this day that he took at that time twelve score tons of plate, and sixteen bowls of coined money a man, his number being then forty-five men in all. insomuch that they were forced to heave much of it overboard, because his ship could not carry it all. hence was this island called by the spaniards themselves the isle of plate, from this great dividend, and by us drake's isle."[ ] the mainland of south america, or new spain, was sighted near cape blanco, where captain john cook died, and edward davis, then quartermaster, was elected commander. he cruised for some time along the coast, learning among other interesting news that at point saint elena, "many years before a rich spanish ship was driven ashore for want of wind to work her, that immediately after she struck she heeled off to seaward and sank in seven or eight fathoms of water, and that no one ever attempted to fish for her because there falls in here a great high sea."[ ] in the bay of guayaquil, on the coast of peru, davis and swan, who had joined him in a small ship called the _cygnet_, captured four vessels, three of which had cargoes of negroes. most of them were let go, to the great disappointment of dampier who was filled with a mighty scheme of treasure finding which he outlined in these words: "never was put into the hands of men a greater opportunity to enrich themselves. we had negroes, all lusty young men and women, and we had tons of flour stored up at the galapagos islands. with these negroes we might have gone and settled at santa maria on the isthmus of darien, and have employed them in getting gold out of the mines there. all the indians living in that neighborhood were mortal enemies to the spaniards, were flushed by successes against them, and for several years had been fast friends of the privateers. add to which, we should have had the north sea open to us, and in a short time should have received assistance from all parts of the west indies. many thousands of buccaneers from jamaica and the french islands would have flocked to us; and we should have been an overmatch for all the force the spaniards could have brought out of peru against us." soon after this, the little squadron blockaded the bay of panama for several weeks, plundering whatever shipping came their way. there they were joined by two hundred frenchmen and eighty englishmen, old buccaneers who had crossed the isthmus of darien to have a fling in the south seas. presently another party of two hundred and sixty-four sea rovers under french command were added to the fleet, besides a strong force of englishmen led by one townley. davis was made commander-in-chief of this formidable combination of ten ships and nine hundred and sixty men, of which the flagship was the _batchelor's delight_. they laid in wait for the annual treasure fleet sent by the viceroy of peru to panama and found it, but were beaten off because davis' confederates lacked his eagerness for fighting at close quarters. turning his attention to the mainland, davis sacked and burned the city of leon on the lake of nicaragua. there one of the free-booters killed "was a stout, grey-headed old man of the name of swan, aged about eighty-four years, who had served under cromwell, and had ever since made privateering or buccaneering his occupation. this veteran would not be dissuaded from going on the enterprise against leon; but his strength failed in the march, and after being left on the road he was found by the spaniards, who endeavored to make him their prisoner; but he refused to surrender, and fired his musket amongst them, having in reserve a pistol still charged; on which he was shot dead."[ ] after this, the force scattered in small bands to plunder on their own account, davis keeping together the best of the men whom he took to cocos island where a considerable stay was made. thence he ravaged the coast of peru, capturing many vessels and taking many towns. with booty amounting to five thousand pieces of eight for every man, davis sailed to juan fernandez to refit, intending to proceed from there to the west indies, but before the ships and men were ready for the long voyage around cape horn, many of the buccaneers had lost all their gold at dice, and they could not endure to quit the south sea empty handed. their luckier comrades sailed for the west indies with captain knight, while they chose to remain and try their fortune afresh with captain davis, in the _batchelor's delight_. they soon fell in with a large party of french and english buccaneers who had formerly cruised with them, and were now engaged in trying to take the rich city of guayaquil. they were making sorry business of it, however, and in sore need of such a capable leader as davis. he finished the task with neatness and dispatch and shared in the gorgeous plunder of gold and silver and jewels, reckoned by one of the frenchmen in his account of the episode at fifteen hundred thousand livres. davis was now satisfied to leave the pacific, but whether he went first to cocos island to bury any treasure, history saith not, although tradition roundly affirms that he did. that he and many of his fellow buccaneers frequently resorted to the galapagos group, as well as tarrying at cocos, is a matter of record. of the former islands, captain colnet who touched there in , wrote:[ ] "this isle appears to have been a favorite resort of the buccaneers as we found seats made by them of stone and earth, and a considerable number of broken jars scattered about, and some whole, in which the peruvian wine and liquors of the country are preserved. we also found daggers, nails and other implements. the watering-place of the buccaneers was at this time entirely dried up, and there was only found a small rivulet between two hills, running into the sea, the northernmost of which hills forms the south point of fresh water bay. there is plenty of wood, but that near the shore is not large enough for other use than firewood." the buccaneers of other voyages than these may have landed at cocos island to leave their treasure. heaven knows they found plenty of it in those waters. there was captain bartholomew sharp, for example, with whom dampier had sailed several years before. he took a guayaquil ship called the _san pedro_ off panama, and aboard her found nearly forty thousand pieces of eight, besides silver, silver bars and ingots of gold, and a little later captured the tall galleon _rosario_, the richest prize ever boarded by the buccaneers. she had many chests of pieces of eight, and a quantity of wine and brandy. down in her hold, bar upon bar, "were pigs of plate," rough silver from the mines, not yet made ready for the lima mint. the pirates thought this crude silver was tin, and so left it where it lay, in the hold of the _rosario_, "which we turned away loose into the sea,"[ ] with the precious stuff aboard her. one pig of the seven hundred was taken aboard the _trinity_ of captain sharp "to make bullets of." about two-thirds of it was "melted and squandered," but a fragment remained when the ship touched at antigua, homeward bound, and was given to a "bristol man" in exchange for a drink of rum. he sold it in england for seventy-five pounds sterling. "thus," says basil ringrose, "we parted with the richest booty we got on the whole voyage." captain bartholomew sharp may have been thinking of something else than the cargo of silver, for aboard the _rosario_ was a woman, "the beautifullest creature that his eyes had ever beheld," while ringrose calls her "the most beautiful woman that i ever saw in the south seas." of these wild crews that flung away their lives and their treasure to enrich romance and tradition, it has been said: "they were of that old breed of rover whose port lay always a little farther on; a little beyond the sky-line. their concern was not to preserve life, but rather to squander it away; to fling it, like so much oil, into the fire, for the pleasure of going up in a blaze. if they lived riotously, let it be urged in their favor that at least they lived. they lived their vision. they were ready to die for what they believed to be worth doing. we think them terrible. life itself is terrible. but life was not terrible to them, for they were comrades; and comrades and brothers-in-arms are stronger than life. those who live at home at ease may condemn them. the old buccaneers were happier than they. the buccaneers had comrades and the strength to lead their own lives."[ ] this stout old breed had long since vanished when cocos island once more became the theater of buried treasure legend. the versions of this latter story agree in the essential particular that it was captain thompson of the merchant brig _mary dear_ who stole the twelve million dollars' worth of plate, jewels, and gold coin which had been entrusted to him by the spanish residents of lima in , and buried them on cocos island. then, after he had joined the crew of the pirate, benito bonito, and somehow managed to escape alive when that enterprising gentleman came to grief, he tried to return to cocos island to recover the fabulous treasure. the account of his later wanderings and adventures, as handed down in its most trustworthy form, has been the inspiration of several modern treasure-seeking expeditions. it is related that a native of newfoundland, keating by name, while sailing from england in , met a man of middle age, "handsome in appearance and having about him something of an air of mystery which had an attraction of its own." this was, of course, none other than captain thompson of the _mary dear_. he became friendly with keating and when they landed at newfoundland, the latter asked him to accept the hospitality of his home. the stranger, who appeared anxious to avoid public notice, remained for some time with keating, and wishing to make some return for his kindness, at length confided that he was one of the two survivors of benito bonito's crew, and possessed a secret which would make them immensely rich. if keating could persuade one of the merchants of newfoundland to fit out a vessel, they would sail to the pacific and fetch home enough treasure to buy the whole island. keating believed the strange tale and passed it on to a ship-owner who agreed to furnish a vessel provided one captain bogue should go in command of the expedition. while preparations were under way, thompson was inconsiderate enough to die, but it goes without saying that he left a map carefully marked with crosses and bearings. keating and bogue set sail with this precious document, and after a long and tedious voyage into the pacific, they cast anchor off cocos island. ====================================================================== [illustration: treasure-seekers digging on cocos island.] christian cruse, the hermit treasure-seeker of cocos island. ====================================================================== there the brace of adventurers were rowed ashore, leaving the vessel in charge of the mate. captain thompson's directions were found to be accurate, and a cave was discovered and in it a dazzling store of treasure to make an honest sailor-man rub his eyes and stagger in his tracks. keating and bogue decided that the secret must be withheld from the crew at all hazards, but their excitement betrayed them and all hands clamored that they must be given shares of the booty. keating protested that a division should not be made until they had returned to their home port and the owner of the ship had been given the greater part which belonged to him by rights. a mutiny flared up, and the mate and the men went ashore, leaving keating and bogue marooned on board, but the search was bootless for lack of directions. they returned to the ship in a very savage temper indeed and swore to kill the two leaders unless they should tell them how to find the cave. promising to show the way on the morrow, keating and bogue slipped ashore in a whale-boat that night, planning to take all the treasure they could carry and hoping to find opportunity to secrete it on shipboard. this program was spoiled by a tragedy. while trying to get back to the ship through the heavy surf that roared on the beach, the boat was upset. bogue, heavily ballasted with treasure, went to the bottom like a plummet and was seen no more. keating clung to the water-logged boat which was caught in a current and carried to sea. two days later he was picked up, exhausted almost unto death, by a spanish schooner which put him ashore on the coast of costa rica. thence he made his way overland to the atlantic, and worked his passage home to newfoundland in a trading vessel. his ship returned with never a doubloon among the mutinous crew. this experience seemed to have snuffed out the ardor of keating for treasure-seeking, and it was as much as twenty years later that he confided the tale to a townsman named nicholas fitzgerald. they talked about fitting out another ship, but keating up and died in the midst of the scheming. he had married a very young wife, and she set great store by the chart and directions preserved as a heritage from captain thompson. in she struck a partnership with a captain hackett and they organized an expedition which sailed for cocos island in a small brig called the _aurora_. this adventure amounted to nothing. there was dissension on board, the voyage was longer than expected, provisions fell short, and the _aurora_ jogged homeward without sighting the treasure island. meanwhile other explorers had been busy. a german, von bremer, spent several thousand dollars in excavating and tunneling, but found no reward. the tales of treasure also fired the brain of a remarkable person named gissler, who took up his solitary residence on cocos island more than twenty years ago where he has since reigned with the title and authority of governor of the same, by virtue of a commission duly signed, sealed, and delivered by the republic of costa rica. as a persistent and industrious treasure-hunter, this tropical hermit is unique. he was visited in by captain shrapnel of h.m.s. _haughty_ who had heard the stories of thompson and benito bonito along the coastwise ports. by way of giving his blue-jackets something to do, he landed a party three hundred strong on cocos island whose landscape they vainly blasted and otherwise disarranged for several days, but without success. the admiralty lacked imagination and reprimanded captain shrapnel for his enterprising break in the dull routine of duty. it was decreed that no more naval vessels were to touch at cocos island on any pretext whatever. this by no means discouraged captain shrapnel who waited until it was permissible for him to apply for leave of absence. in england he found gentlemen adventurers sufficient to finance an expedition which sailed in the _lytton_ in . of this party was hervey de montmorency, whose account of the venture includes the following information: "on the ninth of august, at four o'clock in the morning, every treasure-seeker was on deck straining his eyes to penetrate the mist and darkness; then as the sun rose, the gray mass on the horizon turned to green, and cocos island, with its lofty wooded peak, its abrupt, cliff-like shores, its innumerable cascades of sparkling water, was displayed to eager and admiring eyes. "the anchor was dropped in the little bay, and at the splash, flocks of birds rose screaming and circling overhead. the sandy beach on which the seekers landed is strewn with boulders, on each of which is carved the name and business of some vessel which has called at cocos. some of the dates carry one back to nelson's time; and all sorts of ships seem to have visited the lonely little island, while many a boulder testified to blighted hopes and fruitless errands after treasure. "captain shrapnel's party set to work with the highest expectation. no previous expedition had been so well furnished with clues. once on the right track, it seemed impossible that they should fail. they searched for ten days, encouraged now by the finding of the broken arm of a battered cross brought from some peruvian church, again by a glimpse into what promised falsely to be a treasure cave; but all blasting, digging, and damming of streams proved useless. captain shrapnel at last called a council of war, and declared his opinion that the search was hopeless; landslips, previous excavations, and the torrential rains of this tropical region had so entirely altered the face of the island that clues and directions were of little avail, nor did their agreement with the owners of the _lytton_ permit of a longer stay on cocos. "we did not leave the island, however, without paying a visit to its governor, gissler, whose little settlement is on wafer bay. rounding the headland from chatham bay, we came into the quiet little nook where he has made his home, and he at once waded out in the surf to greet the visitors,--a tall, bronzed man, with a long, gray heard reaching below his waist, and deep-set eyes which gazed with obvious suspicion. gissler had learned to distrust the coming of strangers, who have paid small regard to his rights, pillaging his crops, killing his livestock, and even making free with his home. "reassured by captain shrapnel's party that he had nothing to fear from them, he invited them to his house and clearing, and told them of his long and lonely hunt for the pirate's treasure. when he first went to live on cocos, he found many traces of the freebooters. there were traces of their old camps, with thirty-two stone steps leading to a cave, old fire-places, rusty pots and arms, and empty bottles to mark the scene of their carousing. he had found only one gold coin, a doubloon of the time of charles iii of spain, bearing the date of ." in , a company was formed in vancouver, with a capital of $ , , to fit out an expedition for cocos island. gissler got wind of this project and formally addressed the government of costa rica in these written words: "allow me to inform you that no company with any such intent would have the right to land on cocos island, as i hold a concession from the authorities of costa rica in regard to the said treasure, in which concession the costa rica government has an interest. certainly anything that might be undertaken by such a company from vancouver would amount to naught without my consent." this protest was paid due heed, but two years later, an englishman, claude robert guiness, persuaded the officials of costa rica to listen kindly to his plea, and he was granted the right to explore the island for two years. gissler stood by his guns, drew up a list of grievances, and sailed for the mainland in a small boat to assert his rights to his kingdom. at that time, a wealthy british naval officer, lord fitzwilliam, was bound out to cocos island in his own steam yacht with a costly equipment of machinery and a heavy crew to find the treasure. he found poor gissler in a costa rican port, became interested in his wrongs, and promptly supported his claims. an english nobleman with surplus wealth is a person to wield influence in the councils of a central american republic and gissler was pacified and given a renewal of his documentary rights as governor and population of cocos island. lord fitzwilliam took him on board the yacht and in this dignified fashion gissler returned to this kingdom. he earned his passage by telling his own version of the treasure, as he had culled and revised it from various sources, and his bill of particulars was something to gloat over, including as it did such dazzling bits of narrative as this: "besides the treasure buried by captain thompson, there was vast wealth left on cocos by benito bonito himself. he captured a treasure galleon off the coast of peru and took two other vessels laden with riches sent out from mexico at the outbreak of the revolution against the spaniards. on cocos he buried three hundred thousand pounds' weight of silver and silver dollars, in a sandstone cave in the side of the mountain. then he laid kegs of powder on top of the cave and blew away the face of the cliff. in another excavation he placed gold bricks, of them, four by three inches in size, and two inches thick, and gold-hilted swords, inlaid with jewels. on a bit of land in the little river, he buried several iron kettles filled with gold coin." lord fitzwilliam and his yacht arrived at cocos in december of , and the party of laborers fell to with prodigious zest. while they were making the dirt fly, another english expedition, commanded by arnold gray, hove in sight, and proceeded to begin excavating at inconveniently close range. in fact, both parties were cocksure that the lost cave was located in one spot beneath a great mass of debris that had tumbled down from the overhanging height. the inevitable result was that a pretty quarrel arose. neither force would yield its ground. inasmuch as both were using dynamite rather lavishly, treasure hunting became as dangerous as war. when the rival expeditions were not dodging the rocks that were sent hurtling by the blasting, they were using bad language, the one accusing the other of effacing its landmarks and playing hob with its clues. the climax was a pitched battle in which heads were broken and considerable blood spilt. it is almost needless to observe that no treasure was found. lord fitzwilliam sailed home in his yacht and found that the news of his escapade had aroused the displeasure of the naval authorities, after which he lost all zest for finding buried treasure. since then, hardly a year has passed but an expedition or two for cocos island has been in the wind. in , a company organized in seattle issued an elaborate printed prospectus, offering shares in a venture to sail in a retired pilot schooner, and recounting all the old tales of captain thompson, benito bonito, and keating. at about the same time, a wealthy woman of boston, after a summer visit to newfoundland, was seized with enthusiasm for a romantic speculation and talked of finding a ship and crew. san francisco has beheld more than one schooner slide out through the golden gate in quest of cocos island. to enumerate these ventures and describe them in detail would make a tiresome catalogue of the names of vessels and adventurous men with the treasure bee in their bonnets. charts and genuine information are no longer necessary to one of these expeditions. cocos island is under such a spell as has set a multitude to digging for the treasure of captain kidd. the gold is there, this is taken for granted, and no questions are asked. the island was long a haunt of buccaneers and pirates, this much is certain, and who ever heard of a true pirate of romance who knew his business that did not employ his spare time in "a-burying of his treasure?" [ ] strong, or robust. [ ] _history of the buccaneers of america_, by captain james burney ( ). [ ] _voyage and description_, etc., by lionel wafer, london ( ). [ ] "the buccaneers of america," by john esquemeling (published, ). [ ] dampier. to search for this wreck with a view to recover the treasure in her was one of the objects of an expedition from england to the south sea a few years later than the voyage of davis. [ ] "history of the buccaneers of america," by captain james burney ( ). [ ] colnet's "voyage to the pacific." [ ] esquemeling. [ ] "on the spanish main," by john masefield. chapter xi the mystery of the lutine frigate harbored in the stately edifice of the royal exchange, down in the heart of london city, is that ancient and powerful corporation known to seafaring men the world over as lloyd's. its chief business is the underwriting of maritime insurance risks and its word is law wherever fly the house-flags of merchant shipping. more than two hundred years ago, one edward lloyd kept a coffeehouse in tower street, a thoroughfare between wapping and the thames side of the city, and because of its convenient situation the place became a popular resort for sea captains, underwriters, and insurance brokers who discussed such important matters as arrivals in port, wrecks, missing ships, and rumors of war. in time lloyd's coffeehouse was recognized as a sort of unofficial headquarters for this special variety of insurance speculation, and the gentlemen most active there drifted into a loosely formed organization for the purpose of making the business less hazardous. in , this association of underwriters moved into the royal exchange, taking the name of lloyd's, and later appointed a governing body or committee to control the more adventurous spirits who were fond of gambling on the chances of war, on the length of napoleon's life, and who would undertake to insure a man against the risk of twins in his family. from this beginning grew the vastly influential and highly organized lloyd's of the present day which is something more than a corporation. it is also an aggregation of individual underwriters and brokers carrying on business, each for his own personal profit and on the strength of his good name and resources. as a corporation, lloyd's has no financial liability in the event of the failure of any of its members or subscribers. all that lloyd's does, in its corporate capacity, is to permit the admission only of men of stability and sound repute by means of stringent tests, and to exact a money guarantee or deposit from its members in the sum of £ or £ , together with entrance fees of £ , and annual fees of twenty guineas. these payments form what may be called a reserve fund, and the individual underwriter writes his own policies. if the risk is heavier than he wishes to assume he divides it among his fellows. there are few more interesting places in london than lloyd's, encrusted as it is with the barnacles of conservative tradition, and hedged about with all the exclusiveness of a club. the entrance is guarded by a burly porter gorgeously arrayed in the scarlet robes and gold-banded hat of a by-gone century. having run the gauntlet of this dragon, one is likely to seek the underwriter's room where hundreds of members and their clerks are quartered at rows of little desks or "boxes," every man of them with his hat clapped on his head as decreed by ancient custom. there is always a crowd of them around the "arrival book" and the "loss book" in which are posted the movements of vessels in every port of the world, and the wrecks that number three thousand every year. the famous "captains' room" where the mariners used to gather and swap briny yarns is now used for the prosaic purposes of luncheon and for the auction sales of ships. in the two large and handsome rooms used by the secretary and by the committee of lloyd's are many interesting relics of the earlier history of this body. here is the oldest policy known to the annals of maritime insurance, a faded document issued on january , , for £ on a ship, the _golden fleece_, and her cargo, on a voyage from lisbon to venice, at £ per cent. premium. hanging on these walls are also a policy written on the life of napoleon, and an autograph letter from the duke of wellington as warden of the cinque ports. the most conspicuous furnishings of the committee room are a huge table, highly polished, of dark wood, a magnificently carved arm chair, and a ship's bell. the table bears a silver plate inscribed as follows: h.b.m. ship _la lutine_. gun frigate commanded by captain lancelot skynner, r.n. sailed from yarmouth roads on the morning of the th october, with a large amount of specie on board, and was wrecked off the island of vlieland the same night, when all on board were lost except one man. the rudder of which this table was made and the rudder chain and the bell which the table supports, were recovered from the wreck of the ill-fated vessel, in the year , together with a part of the specie, which is now in custody of the committee for managing the affairs of lloyd's." the chair has a similar inscription, and these pieces of furniture serve to remind the visitor that lloyd's has a lost treasure story of its own. the flavor of piracy is lacking, true enough, but the tragedy of the _lutine_ frigate possessed mystery and romance nevertheless, and is worthy of a place in such a book as this. as the owner of a treasure lost more than a century ago, the corporation of lloyd's still considers the frigate a possible asset, and as recently as may , , captain e. f. inglefield, the secretary of lloyd's wrote the author as follows: "various attempts have been made, with the sanction of lloyd's, to recover further treasure, but it was not until , when steam suction dredgers were first employed, that any results worthy of notice were obtained. a number of coins and other relics to the value of about £ were obtained. "in , also, two guns were recovered from the wreck, one of which, after being suitably mounted on a naval gun carriage, was presented by lloyd's to the corporation of london and has been placed in the museum at the guildhall. the other was graciously accepted by her late majesty queen victoria, and was forwarded to windsor castle. "in , a few coins of small value were recovered. since that date, operations have been continued at various times by salvors under agreement with lloyd's, but nothing of intrinsic value has since been obtained. in , a cannon which was afterwards presented to h. m. queen wilhelmina of holland by the committee of lloyds, was found together with some small pieces of the wreck, etc. "in , some timber weighing about two hundred weight was recovered from the wreck, and was presented to the liverpool underwriters' association, whose chairman, mr. s. cross, had a chair made from the wood, which he presented to that association. "a company which was formed for the purpose of continuing operations has made efforts at various times, but the site is extremely exposed and owing to bad weather, it has often been found impossible to continue dredging operations for more than a few days each year. i trust the above information may be of service to you, but i may add that i understand that it is this year intended to operate with some new apparatus." some light was thrown on this latest enterprise by the publication of the following in a recent issue of _lloyd's weekly newspaper_ of london: "sea treasure getter. novel machine to be used for raising sunken wealth. "an extraordinary machine was towed to the mouth of the river colne, off brightlingsea, and anchored on thursday. it is to be used in a final attempt to recover £ , treasure of gold, in coins and bars, which is said to have gone down in h. m. s. _lutine_ in near the island of terschelling, off the coast of holland. "a portion of the treasure has been recovered, but the ordinary dredging plant is now useless, as the vessel has sunk into the sand. the new device is a great steel tube nearly ft. in length, and wide enough to allow a man to walk erect down its centre. at one end is a metal chamber provided with windows and doors, and at the other a medley of giant hooks and other tackle. "the apparatus has just been completed, after years of work, by messers. forrest and co., shipbuilders, in their wyvenhoe yard. one end of the tube, it is explained, will be clamped to the side of a steamship or barge. the other end, by means of water-ballast tanks, will be sunk until it touches the bottom. then, by means of compressed air, all the water will be forced from the tube and also from the chamber at the bottom of it, which will be flush upon the bed of the sea. "divers will walk down a stairway in the centre of the tube until they reach the submerged chamber. here they will don their diving costumes, and, opening a series of water-tight doors, will step out into the water. engineers will be stationed in the chamber, and, following the instructions of the divers, who will communicate with them by means of portable telephones, they will operate the mechanism of two powerful suction pumps, or dredges, which are fitted to the sides of the tube. "these dredges, it is hoped, will suck away the sand around the sides of the heavy chamber until it gradually sinks by its own weight right down on to the deck of the wrecked ship. then the divers, making their way from the chamber to the deck of the ship, and thence to the hold, will be able to transfer the treasure from the ship to the chamber by easy stages." how lloyd's happens to own a treasure frigate of the english navy, lost more than a century ago, is explained in the following narrative, many of the facts of which were found in "the history of lloyd's and of marine insurance in great britain," by frederick martin, a work now out of print.[ ] on october , , the _gentleman's magazine_ of london contained this news: "intelligence was this day received at the admiralty from admiral mitchell, communicating the total loss of _la lutine_, of guns, captain skynner, on the outward bank of the fly island passage, on the night of the th inst., in a heavy gale at n.n.w. _la lutine_, had on the same morning, sailed from yarmouth roads with several passengers, and an immense quantity of treasure for the texel; but a strong lee-tide rendered every effort of captain skynner to avoid the threatened danger unavailable, and it was alike impossible during the night to receive any assistance, either from the _arrow_, captain portlock, which was in company, or from the shore, from whence several showts were in readiness to go to her. when the dawn broke, _la lutine_ was in vain looked for; she had gone to pieces, and all on board unfortunately perished, except two men who were picked up, and one of whom has since died from the fatigue he has encountered. the survivor is mr. shabrack, a notary public. in the annals of our naval history there has scarcely ever happened a loss attended with so much calamity, both of a public as well as a private nature." in almost all the accounts of the wreck of the _lutine_ it is stated as a fact that the frigate was bound to the texel, and that the bullion and treasure she carried, and which was lost in her, was designed for the payment of the british forces in the netherlands. both statements are without foundation, as proved by a careful search in the archives of the admiralty. these official records show that the _lutine_ was under orders to sail, not to the texel, but to the river elbe, her destination being hamburg, and that the treasure on board was not the property of the british government, but of a number of london merchants connected with lloyd's, and that the business of sending the coin and bullion was purely commercial. the records wholly fail to explain how it happened that, sailing for the mouth of the elbe, the _lutine_ commanded by an able and experienced officer, and in all respects well manned and found, came to be driven, within eighteen hours after leaving yarmouth roads, upon the dangerous shoals of the zuyder zee, far out of her course, even when every allowance is made for the strength of a northwesterly gale. another mystery of the voyage of this thirty-two gun frigate of the royal navy is her employment as a mere packet, carrying cash and bullion for the benefit of private individuals. the officer responsible for sending the _lutine_ on this unusual errand was admiral lord duncan who "received a pressing invitation from some merchants to convey a quantity of bullion." it was his first intention to dispatch a cutter, but the treasure given in his care was swelled by larger amounts until its total value was £ , , or more than five and a half million dollars. the admiral thereupon discarded the cutter and selected instead the swift and staunch _lutine_ frigate, one of the best vessels of his fleet. on october , he wrote to the admiralty from on board his flagship, the _kent_, in yarmouth roads: "the merchants interested in making remittances to the continent for the support of their credit, having made application to me for a king's ship to carry over a considerable sum of money, on account of there being no packet for that purpose, i have complied with their request, and ordered the _lutine_ to cuxhaven with the same, together with the mails lying there for want of conveyance; directing captain skynner to proceed to stromness immediately after doing so, to take under his protection the hudson's bay's ships and see them in safety to the nore." when this letter was written, the _lutine_ had already sailed, and before lord duncan's communication reached the lords of the admiralty, the splendid treasure laden frigate had laid her bones on the sand banks of holland. admiral duncan appears to have escaped all censure for this disaster which followed his action taken without consultation and without waiting for the approval of his superiors. the merchants of london were powerful enough to command the services of the navy, and english credit was needed on the continent to buttress english arms and statesmanship. with her millions of treasure and hundreds of lives, the _lutine_ drove straight toward as fatal a coast to shipping as can be found anywhere in the world. it is a coast which is neither sea nor land, strewn with wrecks, and with somber memories even more tragic. where is now the entrance of the zuyder zee was unbroken terra firma until the thirteenth century when a terrible hurricane piled the north sea through the isthmus separating it from the large lake called vlies by the natives. a wide channel was cut by this inroad, and in the north sea scoured for itself a second inlet at the cost of a hundred thousand human lives. ever since then, the channels have been multiplying and shifting until what was once the coast line has become a maze of islands and sand-banks, the texel, vlieland, terschelling, ameland, and hundreds of lesser ones which confuse even the mariners born and bred among them. with a wind which should have enabled him to give this perilous shore a wide berth and to keep to his course up the north sea, captain skynner plunged into a death-trap from which there was no escape. the sole survivor could give no coherent account, and he died while on the way to england before his shattered nerves had mended. there was no more frigate, and as for the hundreds of drowned sailors, they had been obliterated as a day's work in the business of a great navy, so the admiralty left the mourning to their kinfolk and bestirred itself about that five and a half million dollars' worth of treasure which the sea could not harm. vice-admiral mitchell was informed by letter that "their lordships feel great concern at this very unfortunate accident" and he was directed to take such measures as might be practicable for recovering the stores of the _lutine_, as well as the property on board, "being for the benefit of the persons to whom it belongs." the underwriters of lloyd's with an eye to salvage, were even more prompt than the admiralty in sending agents to the scene of the wreck. the greater part of the immense amount of coin and bullion had been fully insured, a transaction which indicates the stability and ample resources of this association as far away in time as . the loss was paid in full and with such promptitude that only two weeks after the disaster, the committee for managing the concerns of lloyd's addressed a letter to the secretary of the admiralty in which was requested "the favor of mr. nepean to lay before the lords commissioners of the admiralty the information that a sum of money, equal to that unfortunately lost in the _lutine_, is going off this night for hambro, and they trust their lordships will direct such steps as they think expedient for its protection to be taken." the request was granted somewhat grudgingly. apparently the admiralty regretted the employment of one of its frigates as a merchantman. admiral lord duncan was directed to send a convoy this time, but was told also "to let them know that their lordships have done so in this particular case; but that they must not expect the packets can again be convoyed." with this letter ends all reference to the _lutine_ and her treasure in the correspondence preserved in the record office of the admiralty. having paid their losses, like the good sportsmen that they were, the underwriters of lloyd's thereby clinched their right to the ownership of the treasure, provided they could find it. the situation was complicated because england was at that time at war with the netherlands whose government claimed the wreck as a prize, although inconsistently refusing to let it be adjudicated by a prize court. on this account, lloyd's could make no attempt to fish for the treasure, which delay was very much to the benefit of the sturdy dutch fishermen of the islands at the mouth of the zuyder zee. the sands and the surf held a golden harvest. the wreck of the _lutine_ was partly exposed at low ebb tide, and a channel ran close to the side of the ship. the clumsy fishing boats or "showts" swarmed to the place and never was there such easy wealth for honest dutchmen. their government soon put a watch on them and took two-thirds of the findings, giving the fishermen the remainder. they toiled in good weather for a year and a half, and recovered treasure to the amount of eighty-three thousand pounds sterling. the official inventory reads like the hoard of a buccaneer, including as it does such romantic items as: bars of gold, weight lbs. ounces. bars of silver, weight, , lbs. ounces. , spanish silver pistoles. spanish gold pistoles. double louis d'or. single louis d'or. english guineas. at the end of the year the fishermen quit their task, thinking they had found all the treasure. for a dozen years the dutch forgot the melancholy fragments of the _lutine_, while the sailors of the desolate islands guarding the zuyder zee began to weave superstitious legends around the "gold wreck." in the midst of the crowded events of the great war against napoleon, england found no time to remember the _lutine_, and her memory was kept alive only by the kinfolk of the drowned officers and sailors. after napoleon had been finally disposed of, the treasure was recalled to public notice by an ingenious gentleman of the netherlands, pierre eschauzier, a sort of lord of the manor under the government, holding the post of "opper strand vonder," or "upper strand finder," who lived at terschelling and took a lively interest in the wreck. after a great deal of investigation and cogitation, he arrived at the conclusion that the greater part of the treasure dispatched from england in the _lutine_ was still hidden among her timbers. his argument was based on the fact that the bars of silver and gold already recovered were stamped with certain numbers and letters indicating series or sequences, and that thus far these were very incomplete. for instance, among the gold bars previously found, were thirteen marked with the letters _nb_, in three separate lots; the first numbered from to ; the second from to ; and the third from to . other gold bars with different letters and a variety of numbers went to prove that there were a hundred numbers to each letter, which would yield a total of six hundred gold bars, of which only thirty-one had been recovered in the years and . the government of the netherlands was duly impressed by the calculations of mr. eschauzier who had proved himself such an astute "upper strand finder," and he was granted a sum by royal decree from the public exchequer to equip a salvage expedition. alas, the pretty theory was thwarted by the implacable sands which had buried the wreck. for seven years this indefatigable treasure seeker dredged and dug, and found no more than a few gold coin. then he decided to try a diving bell, king willem i having bestowed upon him a more favorable privilege by the terms of which the salvage company was to have one-half of the treasure recovered. the diving bell was no luckier than the dredges had been. in fact, by this time the unstable sands had so concealed the wreck that it could not be found. after vainly groping for several months, the luckless "upper strand finder" confessed himself beaten, and there was nothing to show for an expenditure of five thousand pounds sterling. these operations had made some noise in london, however, and the underwriters of lloyd's remembered that they had an interest in the wreck of the _lutine_ frigate. if there was still treasure to be sought for, it belonged to them, and the government of the netherlands had no claim upon it, either in law or equity. the fact that royal decrees had been granting to dutchmen that which did not belong to them at all, aroused indignation at lloyd's, whose managing committee was moved to address the english government in the matter. after a good deal of diplomatic palaver with the hague, that government made over its half share of the treasure reserved under the treaty with "the upper strand finder" to the "british claimants." in may , , mr. f. conyngham, secretary of the english foreign office, communicated this pleasing news to mr. william bell, chairman of the committee of lloyd's in the following letter: "_sir_: "with reference to the several applications which have been made to his majesty's government to interfere with that of the netherlands on behalf of the underwriters, and others, claiming to be allowed to recover certain property still supposed to remain on board of the _lutine_ frigate, lost off the coast of holland in , i am directed by mr. secretary canning to acquaint you, for the information of the parties concerned, that after much negotiation his netherlands' majesty has expressed his willingness to cede to the british claimants the whole of that moiety of the said property which by his netherlands' majesty's decree of the th. september, , was reserved for the use of his said majesty. the other moiety was, by the same decree, granted in the nature of salvage to a private company of his own subjects, who undertook to recover the cargo at their own expense. it has been stipulated that the british claimants shall be at liberty to concert with the said company as to the best mode of effecting that recovery. considering the difficulties which the negotiation has experienced from disputed points of law, and making due allowance for the engagements formed with the dutch company, who have been recognized as salvors by the dutch law, and would have a right to have all services rewarded in the courts of holland for the property which may be saved by their exertions, mr. canning apprehends that it may be advisable for the claimants in this country to agree to the offer now made. the season for operation is now before them, and no hope could be reasonably entertained that a renewal of the negotiation would bring the matter to a more reasonable close." it will be observed that diplomacy had obtained for lloyd's only a half-interest in its own wreck. the other fifty per cent. still belonged to mr. eschauzier's company, as king willem was particular to make clear in his decree, dated from het loo, which went on to say: "by our minister of foreign affairs, we have offered to the king of great britain to cede to his majesty all that which by our decree of the th of september, , was reserved to the netherlands in the bottom in question and the cargo therein, doing so solely as a proof of our friendly feeling towards the kingdom of great britain, and in nowise from a conviction of the right of england to any portion of the said cargo.... "we have been pleased and thought fit: " . to cede to his majesty of great britain all that which by our decree of the th september, , was reserved in favor of the kingdom relative to the cargo of the frigate _lutine_. " . to instruct our minister of inland affairs and the maritime department--water staat--to give notice of this our decree, as well as of the cession made on the part of his majesty of great britain to the society of lloyd's, to our chancellor of state, governor of north holland, and to the other authorities concerned, as well as to the participators in the undertaking of in the netherlands, and to inform them likewise that an english agent will ere long wait upon them, in order to make all such arrangements with them as may be deemed advisable for the furtherance of their mutual interests. and our ministers for inland affairs and the maritime department are charged with the carrying out of this decree." the members of lloyd's were hardly better off with the gift of one-half a wreck than they had been with no wreck at all. before undertaking any salvage operations they must come to some kind of an understanding with the "upper strand finder" and his partners, with respect to expenses and profits. the dutch, with proverbial caution, were reluctant to scrape acquaintance with the english owners, convinced that in some matter or other, this new ownership in the treasure had been unfairly extorted from their government at the hague. it was not until , that friendly relations were established, and in the meantime mr. eschauzier had died, leaving his share in the treasure among his legacies. then negotiations were interrupted by the political events which caused the separation of belgium from holland. the people of the netherlands heartily hated england for her leading part in this partition, and not even the allurement of fishing gold out of the sea could persuade the dutch adventurers to have anything to do with lloyd's or anything that smacked of the perfidious english. for a quarter of a century, the wreck of the _lutine_ was undisturbed. then, in , two enterprising english divers in need of work, hill and downs by name, conceived an audacious scheme to enrich themselves. they drew up a petition to the king of the netherlands, asking that they be permitted to pick up as much gold as they could lay hands on among the timbers of the _lutine_. surprising as was this request, it was not refused. according to custom, the petition was carefully examined at the hague, and the discovery was gravely announced that there was no legal obstacle in the way of the divers, or anyone else, who cared to seek for the _lutine's_ treasure. one of the articles of a new code of maritime law, passed by the states general of the netherlands in , provided that the salvage of vessels wrecked "on the outer banks of the coast," was thrown open to all persons, under stipulated conditions, and that the wreck of the _lutine_ came within this act. the government formally notified hill and downs that while the right of salvage could not be granted to any particular person, the ground was free on condition that "one-half of all that might be found must be given up to lloyd's." the divers may have found some other employment by this time, for they appeared not at the wreck, but the publication of the proceedings awoke the old dutch company formed by the "upper strand finder" and they opened negotiations with the committee of lloyd's. no one concerned seemed to be in a hurry to find the several million dollars remaining in the _lutine_ and nine more years dragged past before a working agreement was signed between the two parties. the dutch company undertook to carry on the work of salvage, paying over one-half the gross proceeds to lloyd's. it was in that the dutch went to work, and after a month of exploration the secretary of lloyd's received this pleasing information from his agent at the texel: "i feel most happy to inform you that the new efforts to save the value out of the _lutine_ have not been without success. yesterday there was recovered by means of divers and pincers, silver coins, being spanish piastres, gold louis d'or, brass hoops and casks, and a quantity of cannon and shot. "considering the value of the saved objects, it may not be of much signification; but the salvage itself is of very great importance, as it proves two facts, namely, first, that the wreck of the _lutine_ has really been found, and secondly, that there is specie still in the wreck. as soon as anything more is picked up, i will inform you immediately thereof. be assured, i have taken the necessary steps to secure the interests of lloyd's committee, as owners of the treasure, which we hope may entirely be saved." a little later, the wreck was found to be very little scattered and its precise location was determined. the news of the discovered "gold wreck" spread among the fishermen of the zuyder zee and the german ocean and they winged it to the scene until "there were sixty-eight large and well manned boats in the immediate neighborhood looking for plunder." at this threatening mobilization, the dutch government thought it wise to send a gunboat with a party of soldiers on board. in the summer of , the divers brought to the surface the bell of the frigate, which now rests in the committee room of lloyd's with the other relics. the _lutine_ had been one of the crack ships of the french navy and was captured by admiral duncan, he who sent her to her doom. the bell bears on its bronze side the royal crown and arms of bourbon, and on the rim the name of "saint jean" under whose protection the ship and her crew had been placed when she was launched as a fighting frigate of his majesty, louis xvi of france. the treasure seeking was continued for several years, whenever the treacherous sea permitted, until, at length, a great gale out of the northwest closed the channel near the wreck and covered her deeper under the sands. the work was finally abandoned by these salvors in . they had forwarded to england for the benefit of lloyd's a total amount of £ , , to show that the undertaking had been worth while. in the act of incorporation of lloyd's granted by parliament in , the treasure recovered, as well as that still left in the wreck, was carefully referred to, and it was stated that "the society may from time to time do, or join in doing all such lawful things as they think expedient, with a view to further salving from the wreck of the _lutine_." it seems rather extraordinary that the exact amount of the treasure lost in the frigate should be a matter of conjecture, and that the records of lloyd's throw no light on this point. the explanation is that only part of the precious cargo was insured by the underwriters then doing business in the royal exchange building, and that a large amount of gold coin and bullion was hastily forwarded to the _lutine_ by divers bankers and merchants shortly before sailing. the records of these consignments were, of course, scattered and have long since been lost. the total amount lost has been quite accurately calculated by employing the system of accounting devised by the "upper strand finder." his theory was verified by later undertakings at the wreck, and the sequences of letters and numbers stamped upon the gold and silver bars were found to run in regular order, so that it has been latterly assumed that, in all, one thousand of these were in the ship's hold. the figures accepted by the dutch partners in the enterprise, and endorsed by mr. john mavor hill, the agent of lloyd's at amsterdam, were as follows: salvage in the years and .............. £ , " " " " and .............. , " " " " to .............. , ---------- total salvage ............................ £ , total treasure estimated to have been lost ...... £ , , ---------- treasure remaining in the wreck ................. £ , , it is plausible to assume, therefore, that more than five million dollars in gold and silver are still buried in the sands of the island beach at the entrance of the zuyder zee, and that at any time strong gales and shifting currents may once more uncover the bones of the ill-fated _lutine_ frigate. the members of lloyd's are daily reminded, by the presence of the massive oaken table and chair and the silent ship's bell in the committee room, of the princely fortune that is theirs, if they can find it. the story is a romance of maritime insurance, and the end has not yet been written, for with modern equipment and ingenuity those gold and silver bars, spanish pistoles, and louis d'or may some day be carried up the staircase of lloyd's to enrich a corporation of the twentieth century. [ ] "the particulars concerning the _lutine_ which you have obtained from martin's 'history of lloyd's,' can, i think, be considered as accurate, as i believe mr. martin had full means of access to any documents which were available at lloyd's or elsewhere in connection with this matter." (note from captain inglefield, secretary of lloyd's, to the author.) chapter xii the toilers of the thetis the _lutine_ was not the only treasure-laden frigate lost by the british navy. the circumstances of the wreck of the _thetis_ in are notable, not so much for the gold and silver that went down in her, as for the heroic courage and bulldog persistence of the men who toiled to recover the treasure. their battle against odds was an epic in the annals of salvage. they were treasure-seekers whose deeds, forgotten by this generation, and grudgingly rewarded by their own, were highly worthy of the best traditions of their flag and their race. on the morning of december th of the year mentioned, the forty-six gun frigate _thetis_, with a complement of three hundred men, sailed from rio janeiro, homeward bound. as a favor to various merchants of the south american coast who were fearful of the pirates that still lurked in the west indies, her captain had taken on board for consignment to london, a total amount of $ , in gold and silver bars. during the evening of the second night at sea, the ship was running at ten and a half knots, with studding-sails set, and plenty of offing, by the reckoning of the deck officers. the lookout stationed on the cat-head had no more than bellowed "breakers under the bow!" when his comrade echoed it with, "rocks above the mast-head." an instant later, the soaring bowsprit of the frigate splintered with a tremendous crash against the sheer cliffs of cape frio. the charging vessel fetched up all standing. her hull had not touched bottom and there was nothing to check her enormous momentum. in a twinkling, literally in the space of a few seconds, her three masts were ripped out and fell on deck with all their hamper, killing and wounding many of the crew. instead of that most beautiful sight in all the world, a ship under full sail and running free, there was a helpless hulk pounding out her life against the perpendicular wall of rock. the catastrophe befell so suddenly that when captain burgess rushed from his cabin at the warning shout, the masts tumbled just as he reached the quarterdeck. "no description can realize the awful state of the ill-fated ship and all on board at this appalling moment; the night was rainy and so dark that it was impossible to ascertain their position, beyond the fact of their being repeatedly driven with tremendous force against cliffs of a stupendous height above them, and consequently inaccessible, and not offering the slightest chance of escape; the upper deck of the ship, the only part in which exertion could be useful, was completely choked up with masts, sails, and rigging, which presented obstacles that rendered unavailing every attempt at active exertion; while the ears of all, who were of course using their utmost endeavors for the general safety, were pierced by the cries of the dying and wounded for the assistance which the imperious calls of duty forbade them to give. nothing but inevitable destruction presented itself to all on board; and their perfectly helpless state rendered all deliberation useless; and indeed there was no choice of measures, no point on which to offer an opinion, and they could only await such means as providence might present."[ ] as by a miracle, the bowsprit and yard-arms had so checked the speed of the frigate, acting as a sort of buffer, that her hull was not smashed like an eggshell but was found to be fairly tight. all of the boats had been smashed by the falling spars, and the wretched company could only hang fast and pray that the wreck might float until daylight. but the hammering seas soon caused her to leak through yawning seams, and despairing of keeping her from sinking, a few of the crew managed to reach a shelving projection of rock about twenty feet above the deck. it was a forlorn hope, so perilous to attempt that many of those who scrambled for a foothold fell between the ship and the cliff and were drowned or crushed to death. presently the hulk swung away from the face of the cliff and was driven a distance of a third of a mile along the coast and into a tiny cove or notch in the bold headlands of cape frio. here she remained, now sinking very fast. the party who had succeeded in making a landing on the ledge clawed their way to the rescue, following the drifting ship, and with the hardihood and agility of british tars of the old breed, they made their way down the declivity like so many cats and succeeded in making fast to a rope thrown by their comrades on board. by this means, several men had been hauled to safety when the dying frigate lurched wildly and parted the hawser. it was discovered that she now rested on the bottom. part of the port bulwark, the hammock-nettings, the taffrail, and the stumps of the masts remained above water, and to these the crew clung while the surf roared over their heads and threatened to tear them away. the situation was now hopeless, indeed, but all left alive on board were saved by the daring and strength of one man, boatswain geach. he fought his way through the breakers to the stump of the bowsprit, lashed himself there, and succeeded in passing a line to his comrades on shore. a strong rope was then hauled up and one by one the men on board were slung to safety upon the cliffs. almost all the survivors were dreadfully bruised and lacerated. when the news reached rio janeiro, the british sloop-of-war _lightning_ was in that port, and her commander, captain thomas dickinson, was the sort of man who likes nothing better than to lead a forlorn hope and grapple with difficulties. said he: "the consternation occasioned by the dreadful catastrophe was not confined to naval persons, but was universally felt at rio, particularly among mercantile people, since from the tenor of the letter, and the description given by the officer who brought it, the ship and everything she contained were considered as totally lost. the event became a matter of general conversation; but while everyone deplored it, i did not hear of any who seemed disposed to venture on an attempt to recover the property, all appearing to consider the case as perfectly hopeless.... here was an undertaking which, if successful, would assuredly lead to professional reputation and fortune, but which everyone whom i addressed on the subject thought must fail. still, the scarcity of the opportunities of obtaining distinction and credit, by an extraordinary act of duty, which present themselves to officers in these piping times of peace, offered a consideration which prevailed, and i determined on making the attempt, if i could get orders from the commander-in-chief to that effect." the admiral of the station proceeded to cape frio with a squadron of five vessels, and after a careful study of the situation of the wreck concluded that it would be futile to try to recover any of the sunken treasure. in the face of this verdict, captain dickinson felt reluctant to press his own views, but the bee in his bonnet would not be denied. "actuated, however, by the same feelings which had at first prompted me to hazard the attempt, and having a natural repugnance to receding after having, during my inquiries, disclosed my views very freely, i was resolved to persevere. during the absence of the commander-in-chief, i constantly employed myself in inquiring for any persons likely to assist me, searching for implements, and obtaining all the information within my reach, and devised several instruments of minor importance which appeared likely to be useful. on his return from cape frio, i showed these to him, of the whole of which he approved." captain dickinson could find no diving bell in rio, so this versatile officer proceeded to make one, and an extraordinary contrivance it was for men to risk their lives in at the bottom of the sea. from h.m.s. _warspite_, one of the squadron in harbor, he obtained two iron water tanks. these were turned over to an english mechanic named moore, formerly employed by the brazilian government, who was assisted by the carpenter of the _lightning_. between them they fashioned the water tanks into something that looked like a diving bell. these capable artisans then built an air pump, and now they were shy of hose through which to force air to the submerged toilers. "being unable to find a workman in rio janeiro who would undertake to make an air-tight hose," explains captain dickinson, "there appeared for a time to be a stop to my preparations; but recollecting that there was a truscott's pump on board the _lightning_, i attempted to render the hoses belonging to it fit for the purpose, and to my great delight succeeded, by first beating them hard with a broad-faced hammer to render the texture as close as possible, then giving them a good coat of stockholm tar, afterwards parceling them well with new canvas saturated with the same material, and finally serving them with three-yarn spun-yarns, made of new yarns and well twisted. "having thus surmounted without assistance the two most formidable difficulties that had yet presented themselves, i entertained a hope that my own resources would prove equally available on future occasions; and hence my confidence in ultimate success increased, in the event of the stores and treasure still remaining where the ship was lost. my officers and crew likewise now began to feel a great interest in all that was doing; and their conduct and expressions afforded me a happy presage that their future exertions would fulfill my most sanguine expectations.... i could not but feel that the same encouragement was not afforded by some from whom i had most reason to expect both it and assistance; for although i had now been for six weeks engaged in work, drudging on in the double capacity of carpenter and blacksmith, i had not a single voluntary offer by them of any article that might be useful to me. nor was the kindness of my friends very encouraging; for they almost universally endeavored to dissuade me from venturing on an enterprise which everyone considered hopeless; to all of which remonstrances my only reply was, that my mind was made up, and that i should not withdraw from it." the _lightning_ sailed to begin operations at cape frio on the th of january, , with a brazilian launch in tow, "and _la seine_, french frigate, in company, going to visit the place as a matter of curiosity." at the scene of the wreck were found the sloop of war _algerine_, a schooner as tender, and a complement from the _warspite_, which were engaged in saving such stores and spars as had drifted ashore. the theater of captain dickinson's ambition as a treasure-seeker was hostile and forbidding, a coast on which it seemed impossible to tarry except in the most favorable weather. as he describes it, "the island of cape frio is about three miles long and one in breadth, is the southeastern extremity of brazil, and separated from the mainland by a narrow strait or gut about four hundred feet broad, having very deep water in it, and through which, the land on each side being very high, the wind constantly rushes in heavy gusts, and a rapid current runs. this island is entirely mountainous, and nearly covered with an almost impenetrable forest, and the whole coast on the sea side of it is formed by precipitous cliffs, washed by very deep water close to the shore; and on the harbor side, with the exception of a sandy bay, is very steep and rugged." the little notch in the seaward cliffs, into which the frigate had been driven, was named thetis cove by captain dickinson who explored it vainly for traces of the wrecked hull. either she had been washed out into deep water, or had entirely broken up. two months had passed since the disaster, and the only way of trying to find the remains of the vessel was by means of sounding with a hand-lead until the diving bell could be rigged. the depth of water ranged from thirty-six to seventy feet at the base of the cliffs. this cove was an extraordinarily difficult place to work in, there being no beach and the ramparts of rock towering straight from the water to heights of from one hundred to two hundred feet. said captain dickinson: "on viewing this terrific place, with the knowledge that at the time of the shipwreck the wind was from the southward, i was struck with astonishment, and it appeared quite a mystery that so great a number of lives could have been saved; and indeed it will never cease to be so, for that part at which the crew landed is so difficult of access, that (even in fine weather), after being placed by a boat on the rock at the base, it required considerable strength and agility, with the assistance of a man-rope, to climb the precipitous face of the cliff; and i am certain that in the hour of extreme peril, when excess of exertion was called forth, there must have been a most extraordinary display of it by a few for the benefit of the whole." now, this make-shift diving bell of his had to be suspended from something in order to be raised and lowered, but neither his own ship, the lightning, nor any of the other vessels of the salvage fleet could be anchored in the cove to serve the purpose because of the grave danger of being caught on a lee shore. at first captain dickinson planned to stretch a cable between the cliffs on either side of the cove but this was found to be impracticable. thereupon he proceeded to fashion a huge derrick from which the diving bell should hang like a sinker at the end of a fishing-rod. there was no timber on the cape that was fit to be worked up by the ship carpenters, but these worthies, mr. batt of the _warspite_ and mr. daniel jones of the _lightning_, were not to be daunted by such a trifling matter as this. if a derrick was needed, they were the men to make it out of nothing. what they did was to assemble the broken masts and spars that had drifted ashore from the wreck of the _thetis_ and patch them together into one immense derrick arm which with its gear weighed as much as forty tons. it was a masterpiece of ingenuity and seamanship of the old-fashioned school, such as can no longer be found in navies. this breed of handy man at sea belonged with the vanished age of masts and canvas and "wooden walls." "our encampment and the adjacent parts of the island now presented a bustling, and, i flattered myself, a rather interesting scene," wrote the commander. "there were parties of carpenters building the derrick, making, carrying to the selected situations, and placing the securities for supporting and working it. riggers were preparing the gear for it, sawyers cutting wood for various purposes, rope-makers making lashing and seizing stuff from the pieces of cable crept[ ] up from the bottom, and two sets of blacksmiths at their forges; those of the _warspite_ making hoops, bolts, and nails, from various articles which had been crept up; and those of the _lightning_ reducing the large diving bell and constructing a smaller one; five gangs of excavators leveling platforms on the heights above the cove, cutting roads to lead to them, and fixing bolts in numerous parts of the faces of the cliffs; some were employed in felling trees and cutting grass for the huts while others were building and thatching them; water carriers were passing to and from the pool with breakers of water; and the officers were attending to the different parties assigned to them for their immediate guidance." when ready to be placed in position, this derrick, built of odds and ends, was an enormous spar one hundred and fifty-eight feet long. to support it over the water, elaborate devices had to be rigged from the cliff overhead, and the whole story of this achievement, as related by captain dickinson, reads like such a masterful, almost titanic battle against odds that it seems worth while quoting at some length: "we had by this time taken off thirteen feet of the peak of the northeast cliff, and thereby made a platform of eighty feet by sixty. on this was placed the _lightning's_ capstan and four crabs[ ] formed of the heels of the _thetis's_ topmasts, the _lightning's_ bower and stream anchors, and the store anchor, to which was shackled the chain splicing-tails and several lengths of the _thetis's_ chain stream cable which we had recovered, extending several fathoms over the cliff to attach the standing parts of the topping-lifts and guy-topping-lifts to, and preserve them from chafing against the rocks. there were also eight large bollards[ ] placed in proper positions for other securities. four other platforms, each large enough for working a crab, were made at appropriate parts for using the guys and guy-topping lifts. the roads and paths had been cut, extending from our encampment to those platforms, and from the one to the other of them together amounted to the length of nearly a mile and a half. the zig-zag path down the cliff was finished, and at those parts of the main cliff which were inaccessible in this manner, rope-ladders were substituted, and thus a communication was formed with the cove at the point where the derrick was to be stepped. "all this being done, the large hawsers were rove through the blocks, their purchases lashed to them, and partially overhauled over the cliffs. the getting the before-mentioned heavy articles up was most distressingly laborious, for they were obliged to be carried a greater part of the distance where the surface was covered with a deep loose sand, and to this cause may be mainly attributed a complaint of the heart which subsequently attacked several of the people. "the derrick, which was now composed of twenty-two pieces united by a great number of dowels and bolts, thirty-four hoops, and numerous wooldings[ ] of four-inch ropes, was finished on the evening of the th, and the clothing fitted on, and i now had arrived at a point which required much foresight and pre-arrangement, namely, the preparation for erecting it; and it was necessary to weigh with coolness and circumspection the mode by which this was to be done. "a party of about sixty of our best hands were employed in getting the _lightning's_ chain and hempen stream cables and large hawsers passed over and around the faces of the cliffs, and the purchases were sufficiently overhauled to admit of their reaching the derrick, and the falls brought to the capstan and crabs, ready for heaving it up. all who are well acquainted with the character and manners of sailors know that it is no easy matter to rid them of their habitual heedlessness. i endeavored to impress them with the need of caution, and the almost universal answer i got was 'never fear, sir,' which from the fearless and careless manner in which it was expressed, was by no means calculated to remove my apprehensions for their safety. "the task we had now in hand was one of much danger. the parties working over the cliffs were some of them slung in bights of rope, some supported by man-ropes, some assisting each other by joining hands, and others holding by the uncertain tenure of a tuft of grass or a twig, while loose fragments of rock, being disturbed by the gear and by the men who were working on the upper part, were precipitated amidst those below, while the sharp crags lacerated the hands and feet and rendered dodging these dangers extremely difficult. however, by great attention on the part of the officers, and by promptitude in giving aid when required, this very arduous part of our work was performed, which i sincerely believe could not have been accomplished by any men in the world but british seamen; the only accidents being some cuts in the hands and feet, and bruises from falling stones. "all the gear being prepared, in the evening i arranged the distribution of my officers with their particular parties at the capstan, crabs, purchases, etc. the smallness of the number of hands sent from the _warspite_ rendered it necessary that i should have every working man from the _lightning_; and on this occasion she was left with only a few convalescents to take care of her, and even the young gentlemen[ ] were obliged to give their aid at the capstan. on the morning of the th, the derrick was launched without casualty, and while the boats were towing it to the cove, all gear was got ready to be attached to it the moment it arrived at the proper position, according to the plan i had given. "it had to be towed for a distance of about a mile, subject to the influence of a strong current running westward through the gut, at once exposing us to the two-fold danger of being driven to sea or against the rocks. in apprehension of accident from one or the other of these causes, i had taken the precaution of placing bolts at several points of the rocks, so that in case of necessity a warp might be made fast. however, the derrick reached the cove without disaster, and as everything depended on promptitude of action, i had all the gear fitted to go with toggles, which so much facilitated the rigging that in one hour and a half after its arrival, everything was in place and the _lightning's_ chain stream cable being made fast to the heel of the derrick, ready for heaving up, i left the further management in the cove to mr. chatfield, and placed myself upon the main cliff. "i then gave the order to heave round, and everyone was on the alert; but we had scarcely brought any considerable strain on the gear when a report came to me that the heel of the derrick was displaced and driven into a chasm at the foot of the cliff, an accident which for this time put an end to further efforts. i had no alternative but to cast everything off in a hurry, and if possible return to the harbor with the derrick; but this had become exceedingly doubtful, for the wind was much increased since morning, and the current more rapid. we repeatedly succeeded in towing the derrick into the gut, and were as often driven back; till at length we were compelled to make it fast to the rock outside until a small anchor and some grapnels were laid out, by which means it was finally warped into the harbor, and by half-past eleven at night moored near the _adelaide_. undismayed by this failure, by seven o'clock of the following morning, we were again in the cove with the derrick. "the vast weight, the great height of the purchases, the number of them, and the great distances they were apart, made united effort impossible, but at the close of the day i had the satisfaction of seeing this huge spar in the place assigned for it, and the head of it hove ten feet above the water. on the th, we were again at our purchases, and the head of the derrick was raised to the angle i had intended, being about fifty feet above the surface of the sea. "during the operation of erecting the derrick, it showed great pliability, the result of being composed of so many pieces, which obliged us to get numerous additional guys on; and having thus secured it, we returned to our encampment, all hands greatly fatigued by three days of the most harassing exertion, from half-past four in the morning until late at night. on looking down from the precipice on this enormous machine, with all its necessary rigging, it became a matter of astonishment to myself, and i believe to everyone else who saw it, that with the small means we had, we could have succeeded in such a situation. it has been my lot to witness many circumstances in which there was cause for great solicitude, but never one wherein such general anxiety was manifested as on this occasion. if any one thing had given way, it must have been fatal to the whole--a general crash would have been inevitable." meanwhile, captain dickinson had found time to devise a small diving bell, made from another water tank, which could be operated from spars and tackle set up on board a launch. this was employed for exploring the bottom of the cove in order to find where the treasure was. the bell held two men, and there were plenty of volunteers to risk their lives in the first descent in this little iron pot. the trip was disastrous, and the commander described it as follows: "the water happened to be particularly clear, which gave me an indistinct sight of the bell at the depth of eight fathoms, and i had been watching it with breathless anxiety for a long time, when suddenly a small line of air bubbles rose from about the middle of the hose. i instantly gave the word to the men in the launch to make ready to haul away, but the two men in the bell made no signal to be pulled up. the agitation of the sea became greater every minute, and there was a rise and fall of eight or ten feet of surf against the cliffs. the danger was increasing, and i was about to order the bell to be raised when an immense column of air came bursting up from it. it had been driven violently against the rocks, thrown on its side, and filled with water. "the next moment i saw the two men emerge from the bell and swim to the surface. heans had been entangled in the signal line, but he managed to release himself, and dewar bobbed up a few seconds later. they were too exhausted to say much, but heans called to his partner, 'never mind, mate, we haven't done with the damn thing yet.'" these plucky seamen went down again and discovered considerable wreckage of the lost frigate. a brazilian colonel, with a gang of native indian divers now appeared on the scene with a great deal of brag about their ability to find the treasure without any apparatus. they proved to be pestering nuisances who accomplished nothing and were sent about their business after several futile attempts under water. they furnished one jest, however, which helped to lighten the toil. the bell was being lowered when one of these natives, or _caboclos_, slid over the side of the boat and disappeared in the green depths. in a few seconds, the signal came from the bell to hoist up. fearing trouble, the helpers hoisted lustily, and as the bell approached the surface, something of a brownish hue was seen hanging to its bottom which was presently discovered to be the _caboclo_ who had tried to enter the bell. the men mistook him for an evil spirit or some kind of a sea monster and kicked him back into the water outside, and he could only hang on by the foot-rail, with his head inside the bell. the first encouraging tidings was signaled from the small diving bell on march th, when a bit of board floated up from the submerged men with these words written upon it: "be careful in lowering the bell to a foot, for we are now over some dollars." soon they came up, from seven fathoms down, with their caps full of silver dollars and some gold. captain dickinson decided to push the search night and day, and the boats were therefore equipped with torches. it was a spirited and romantic scene as he describes it. "thetis cove would have supplied a fine subject for an artist. the red glare cast from the torches on every projection of the stupendous cliffs rendered the deep shadows of their fissures and indentations more conspicuous. the rushing of roaring sea into the deep chasms produced a succession of reports like those of cannon; and the assembled boats, flashing in and out of the gloom were kept in constant motion by the long swell. the experiment succeeded to admiration, and we continued taking up treasure until two o'clock of the morning of the first of april, when we were glad to retire; having obtained in the whole by this attempt, dollars, pounds, ounces of plata pina, pounds, ounces of old silver, pounds, ounces of silver in bars, and pounds, ounces of gold. after a little rest we were again at our employment by half-past five, and proceeded very prosperously for some hours, and then had to desist because of a dangerous shift of wind." as soon as the larger bell and the giant derrick could be put in service, the happy task of fishing up treasure was carried on at a great pace. unlike many other such expeditions, nothing was done at haphazard. the toilers under water "were first to go to the outermost dollar, or other article of gold they could discover, and to place a pig of ballast, with a bright tally board fast to it, against and on the inner side of the nearest fixed rock they could find. from this they were then to proceed to take up all that lay immediately on the surface of the bottom, but not to remove anything else until all that was visible was obtained. this being done, they were to return to the place first searched and passing over the same ground, remove the small rocks and other articles, one by one, and progressively take up what might be recovered by such removal, but not on any account to dig without express orders from me." life in the camp on cape frio had no holiday flavor, and while there was continual danger afloat, there were troubles and hardships on shore. "in addition to our sufferings from the wind and rain penetrating our flimsy huts, we were attacked by myriads of tormentors in the shape of ants, mosquitoes, fleas, and worst of all, jiggers. many of the people frequently had their eyes entirely closed from the stings of the mosquitoes. at night swarms of fleas assailed us in our beds, while by day it afforded a kind of amusement to pull up the leg of one's trousers and see them take flight like a flock of sparrows from a corn-stack, while there might be a hundred congregated inside the stocking. those little insidious devils, the jiggers, penetrated the skin in almost all parts of the body, forming a round ball and causing sores which, being irritated by the sand, became most painful and troublesome ulcers, and produced lameness to half of our number at a time. "snakes were so numerous that the thatching and almost every nook of our huts was infested with them. they were often found in the peoples' hammocks and clothes, and several were caught on board the ship. on one occasion, my clerk's assistant was writing in his hut when a rustling in the overhanging growth caused him to look up and discover a huge snake, its head extending several feet inside the hole that served as a window. he alarmed the camp, and muskets, cutlasses, sticks, and every other weapon were caught up. the snake escaped, but i received numerous reports of his extraordinary dimensions. my steward insisted that it was as big around as his thigh, the sentry said it was as big as the _lightning's_ bower cable, and as to length the statements varied between twenty and thirty feet. at another time, mr. button, the boatswain, went into the store, in which there was no window, to get a piece of rope. going in from the glare of the sun, the place appeared dark to him, and he laid hold of what he thought was a length of rope, pulled lustily at it, and was not undeceived until it was dragged out into the light. then he was horror-struck to find he had hold of a large snake." in may, captain dickinson was able to send to england in h.m.s. _eden_, treasure to the handsome amount of $ , in bullion and specie, and had every promise of recovering most of the remainder of the precious cargo. then a terrific storm swept the cove, totally demolished the derrick, carried the large diving bell to the bottom, and made hash of the whole equipment devised with such immense toil and pains. was he discouraged? not a bit of it. he straightway set his men at work to construct new apparatus with which he fetched up more gold and silver, to the value of half a million dollars before he forsook the task. first let him tell you in his own words of that tragic storm and its results. "at one o'clock of the morning of may th, it blew a perfect gale, the cove was in a far more disturbed state than i had ever seen it before, the seas rolled up the cliff to an astonishing height, and by daylight the cove was in a state of awful commotion. the spray was driven so wildly that while standing on the main platform, at an elevation of feet, i was completely wet and could scarcely resist it. the waves struck the derrick with steadily increasing force, and i watched it with all the distressing feelings that a father would evince toward a favorite child when in a situation of great danger. by six o'clock the wind threw the waves obliquely against the southeast cliff, and caused them to sweep along its whole length until opposed by the opposite cliff from which as each wave recoiled it was met by the following one, and thus accumulated, they rose in one vast heap under the derrick stage, beat it from under the bell, and washed away the air-pump, air-hoses, and semaphore. the stage was suspended at a height of thirty-eight feet above the surface of the sea in ordinary weather, from which circumstances an idea may be formed of the furious agitation of the cove. ====================================================================== [illustration: thetis cove in calm weather, showing salvage operations.] thetis cove during the storm which wrecked the salvage equipment. (from lithographs made in .) ====================================================================== "nine o'clock arrived, and i had been watching for fourteen hours. the constant concussions had caused the gear of the derrick to stretch, and every blow from the sea caused it to swing and buckle to an alarming degree. nothing more could possibly be done to save it, and i saw plainly that unless the gale soon ceased its destruction was inevitable. i therefore left an officer on watch, and quitted the cliff to go to my hut and arrange my parties for the work to be put in hand after the catastrophe. presently he came down to meet me, and reported that a stupendous roller had struck the derrick on its side, and broke it off twenty feet from the heel. thus in one crash was destroyed the child of my hopes, and in a very short time the derrick was dashed into six pieces, forming, with the complicated gear, one confused mass of wreckage." before the storm had subsided, the indefatigable seamen, blacksmiths, and carpenters were solving the problem afresh, just as if there had not been a clean sweep of their weary months of effort. this time it was a new scheme for a suspension cable that had occurred to captain dickinson. while this work was in progress he made another diving bell from a water-tank, and succeeded in finding his air pump at the bottom of the cove. two men were drowned in the surf at this stage of operations, the only fatalities suffered by the heroic company. the diving bell was successfully slung from the suspended cable after a vast deal of ingenious and daring engineering, and by means of it much treasure was recovered, although the contrivance yawed fearfully under water and more than once capsized and spilled its crew who fought their gasping way to the surface. after fourteen months of incessant toil, the men and officers worn to the bone and ravaged by fever and dysentery, they had found almost six hundred thousand dollars in bullion and specie, or three-fourths of the total amount lost in the _thetis_. it had been magnificently successful salvage, achieved in the face of odds that would have disheartened a less resourceful and courageous commander than captain thomas dickinson. he appears to have been the man in a thousand for the undertaking. then occurred an inexplicable sort of a disappointment, an act of such gross injustice to him that it can be explained only on the theory of favoritism at naval headquarters. captain dickinson had a grievance and he describes the beginning of his troubles in this fashion: "on the th and th of march, some more treasure was found in a part from which we had removed several guns, and here i had determined to have a thorough examination by digging, feeling assured that here would be found all the remaining treasure that could be obtained. our labors were drawing to a close, but while i was enjoying the pleasing anticipation of a speedy and successful termination of the enterprise, on the th i was surprised by the arrival of his majesty's sloop _algerine_, with orders from the commander-in-chief to me to resign the charge to commander the honorable j. f. f. de roos of that sloop. it appears that the admiralty had been led to think that no more property could be rescued, and therefore ordered my removal. i could not but feel this a most mortifying circumstance. i had been the only person who had come forward to attempt the recovery of the large property which was considered to be irretrievably lost; i had devised the whole of the methods by which a very large portion of it was recovered; i had endured peril, sickness, toil, and privation during more than a year; and the work was now reduced to a mere plaything compared with what it had been, and yet i was not allowed to put the finishing hand to it. notwithstanding this, the deep interest i felt in the undertaking remained unabated, and i was determined that nothing should be wanting on my part to ensure a successful termination of it." quite courteously, captain dickinson explained in detail to commander the honorable j. f. f. de roos the plant and the operations, and even left for him to fish up a large quantity of treasure already located and which could be scooped up from the diving bell without difficulty. "with a feeling which i thought would be appreciated by a brother officer, i did not attempt to bring up this treasure, but left it for the benefit of our successors, observing at the time that the world should not say that i had left them nothing to do but the labor of removing rocks and rubbish." the amount subsequently recovered by the _algerine_ was $ , , so that by captain dickinson's efforts, and the use of his plans and equipment, all but one-sixteenth of the lost treasure was restored to its owners, and of this he himself had raised by far the greater part. when he returned to england and learned that salvage was to be awarded to the officers and men who had been engaged in the work, he naturally regarded himself as the principal salvor. the admiralty, in its inscrutable wisdom, chose to think otherwise, and the underwriters of lloyd's, taking their cue from this exalted quarter, regarded poor captain dickinson with the cold and fishy eye of disfavor. the case was argued in the court of admiralty, and the agents of admiral baker, he who had been in command of the squadron at rio, set up the claim that he was the principal salvor, although the fact was plain that he had nothing whatever to do with recovering the treasure from the _thetis_, and not even visited cape frio during the year of active operations. the judge could not stomach such a high-handed claim as this, and his decision set aside the admiral in favor of captain dickinson and the crew of the _lightning_. the salvage award, however, amounting to £ , , was decreed as due also to the company of the _algerine_, numbering almost four hundred men, which left small pickings for captain dickinson and his heroes. this was so obviously unfair that he appealed to the judicial committee of the privy council, which increased the award by the sum of £ , , in which commander the honorable j. f. f. de roos and his belated treasure seekers were not entitled to share. the influential committee of lloyd's thought that captain dickinson should not have been so bumptious in defending his rights, and because he disagreed with their opinions, they ignored him in a set of resolutions which speak for themselves: " st. a vote of thanks to admiral sir thomas baker, for his zeal and exertions. " nd. the same to captain de roos, of the _algerine_, and a grant of £ , to himself, his officers, and crew, being the amount they would have received had they been parties to the appeal. " rd. to mark the sense of the meeting of captain de roos's conduct, they further voted to this officer a piece of plate to the value of one hundred guineas." in other words, an unimportant naval captain deserved this censure because he had not been content to take what was graciously flung at him by lloyd's and the admiralty, but had stood up for his rights as long as he had a shot in the locker. there is something almost comic in the figure cut by commander the honorable j. f. f de roos, who reaped the reward of another man's labors and received the formal thanks of lloyd's as the chief treasure finder of the _thetis_ frigate. captain thomas dickinson was a dogged and aggressive sort of person, not in the least afraid of giving offense in high places, and had he not been of this stamp of man he would never have fought that winning fight against obstacles amid the hostile cliffs and waters of desolate cape frio. he shows his mettle in a fine outburst of protest, the provocation for which was a sentence in a letter published in a london newspaper while his case was under discussion: "had captain dickinson relied on the liberality of lloyd's coffee house, _he would not have been a poorer man_." this was like a spark in a magazine, and the captain of the _lightning_ flings back in retort: "here, then we arrive at the development of the real feelings of the underwriters; here is exposed the head and front of my offending. rely on the liberality of lloyd's coffee house!! so that because i would not abandon my duty to my officers and crew, or separate my interests from theirs, and place myself and them at the mercy of the underwriters, therefore the enterprise and the services of fourteen months, besides the rescue of nearly six hundred thousand dollars, are to be considered as utterly unworthy of mention. can it be necessary, in order to entitle a british officer to honorable mention in lloyd's coffee house that he should abandon a right, and succumbing to the feet of its mighty committee, accept a donation, doled out with all the ostentation of a gratuitous liberality, in place of that reward which legally took precedence even of the ownership of the property rescued!!" [ ] the matter quoted in this chapter is from the privately printed account by captain dickinson (london, ), entitled, "a narrative of the operations for the recovery of the public stores and treasure sunk in h.m.s. _thetis_, at cape frio on the coast of brazil, on the fifth december, , to which is prefixed a concise account of the loss of that ship." [ ] dredged. [ ] portable machines used as capstans. [ ] strong pieces of timber placed vertically in the ground for fastening ropes to. [ ] wrappings. captain kidd uses this old word in his own narrative. see page . [transcriber's note: the words "woolding" or "wooldings" appear nowhere else in this text.] [ ] midshipmen. chapter xiii the quest of el dorado in our time the golden word _eldorado_ has come to mean the goal of unattained desires, the magic country of dreams that forever lies just beyond the horizon. its literal significance has been lost in the mists of the centuries since when one deluded band of adventurers after another was exploring unknown regions of the new world in quest of the treasure city hidden somewhere in the remote interior of south america. thousands of lives and millions of money were vainly squandered in these pilgrimages, but they left behind them one of the most singularly romantic chapters in the whole history of conquest and discovery. the legend of el dorado was at first inspired by the tales of a wonderful and veritable _dorado_, or gilded man, king of a tribe of indians dwelling, at the time of the spanish conquest, upon the lofty tableland of bogotá, in what is now the republic of colombia. later investigations have accepted it as true that such a personage existed and that the ceremonies concerning which reports were current early in the sixteenth century took place at the sacred lake of guatavia. there lived on this plateau, in what is still known as the province of cundinamarca, small village communities of the muysca indians, somewhat civilized and surrounded on all sides by debased and savage tribes. they worshiped the sun and moon, performed human sacrifices, and adored striking natural objects, as was the custom in peru. the numerous lakes of the region were holy places, each regarded as the home of a particular divinity to which gold and emeralds were offered by throwing them into the water. elsewhere than at guatavita jewels and objects wrought of gold have been discovered in the process of draining these little lakes. guatavita, however, is most famous of all because here originated the story of "_el hombre dorado_." this sheet of water is a few miles north of the capital city of santa fé de bogotá, more than nine thousand feet above sea level, in the heart of the cordilleras. near the lake is still the village called guatavita. in the inhabitants were an independent tribe with a ruling chief. they had among them a legend that the wife of one of the earlier chiefs had thrown herself into the lake in order to escape punishment and that her spirit survived as the goddess of the place. to worship her came the people of other communities of the region, bringing their gold and precious stones to cast into the water, and guatavita was famed for its religious pilgrimages. whenever a new chief, or king, of guatavita was chosen, an imposing ceremonial was observed by way of coronation. all the men marched to the lake in procession, at the head a great party wailing, the bodies nude and painted with ocher as a sign of deep mourning. behind them were groups richly decorated with gold and emeralds, their heads adorned with feathers, cloaks of jaguar skins hanging from their shoulders. many uttered joyful cries or blew on trumpets and conch-shells. then came the priests in long black robes decorated with white crosses. at the rear of the procession were the nobles escorting the newly-elected chief who rode upon a barrow hung with disks of gold. his naked body was anointed with resinous gums and covered with gold dust so that he shone like a living statue of gold. this was the gilded man, el dorado, whose fame traveled to the coast of the caribbean. at the shore of the lake, he and his escort stepped upon a balsa, or raft made of rushes, and moved slowly out to the middle. there the gilded one plunged into the deep water and washed off his precious covering, while with shouts and music the assembled throng threw their offerings of gold and jewels into the lake. then the worshipers returned to the village for dancing and feasting.[ ] in the last decade of the fifteenth century, or while columbus was making his voyages, the tribe of guatavita was conquered by a stronger community of the muysca race, and the new rulers, being of a thriftier mind, made an end of the extravagant ceremony of el dorado. it is therefore assumed that the gilded man had ceased to be, full thirty years before the spaniards first heard of him at the coast. humboldt became interested in the legend during his south america travels and reported: "i have examined from a geographical point of view the expeditions on the orinoco, and in a western and southern direction in the eastern side of the andes, before the tradition of el dorado was spread among the conquerors. this tradition had its origin in the kingdom of quito where luiz daza, in , met with an indian of new granada who had been sent by his prince, the zipa of bogotá, or the caique of tunja, to demand assistance from atahuahalpa, the last inca of peru. this ambassador boasted, as was usual, of the wealth of his country; but what particularly fixed the attention of the spaniards who were assembled with daza was the history of a lord who, his body covered with gold dust, went into a lake amid the mountains. "as no historical remembrance attaches itself to any other mountain lake in this vicinity, i suppose the reference to be made to the sacred lake of guatavita, in the plains of the bogotá, into which the gilded lord was made to enter. on the banks of this lake i saw the remains of a staircase, hewn in the rock, and used for the ceremonies of ablution. the indians told me that powder of gold and golden vessels were thrown into this lake as a sacrifice to the _adoratorio_ de guatavita. vestiges are still found of a breach made by the spaniards in order to drain the lake.... the ambassador of bogotá, whom daza met in the kingdom of quito, had spoken of a country situated towards the east." the latter reference means that the legend had spread from coast to coast. on the pacific, the _conquistadores_ of pizarro were for a time too busily engaged in looting the enormous treasures of the last inca of peru to pay much heed to the lure of golden legends beckoning them further inland. the first attempt to go in search of the gilded man and his kingdom was made, not by a spaniard, but by a german, ambrosius dalfinger, who was in command of a colony of his countrymen settled on the shore of the gulf of venezuela, a large tract of that region having been leased by spain to a german company. he pushed inland to the westward as far as the rio magdalena, treated the natives with horrible barbarity, and was driven back after losing most of his men. a few years later, and the legend was magnified into a wondrous description of a golden city. in , there marched from the atlantic coast, gonzalo ximenes de quesada, surnamed _el conquistador_, to find the el dorado. at the head of six hundred and twenty-five foot-soldiers and eighty-five mailed horsemen, he made his perilous way up the rio magdalena, through fever-cursed swamps and tribes of hostile natives, enduring hardships almost incredible until at length he came to the lofty plateau of bogotá, and the former home of the real gilded man. more than five hundred of his men had died on the journey of hunger, illness, and exposure. he found rich cities and great stores of gold and jewels, but failed to discover the el dorado of his dreams. many stories were afloat of other treasures to be wrested from the muysca chiefs, but quesada, having no more than a handful of fighting men, feared to go campaigning until he had made his position secure. he therefore established a base and laid the foundations of the present city of bogotá. one of his scouting parties brought back tidings of a tribe of very war-like women in the south who had much gold, and in this way was the myth of the amazons linked with the el dorado as early as . now occurred as dramatic a coincidence as could be imagined. to quesada there appeared a spanish force commanded by sebastian de belalcazar, the conqueror of quito, who had come all the way from the pacific coast, after hearing from an indian of new granada the story of the gilded man. no sooner had this expedition arrived than it was reported to quesada that white men with horses were coming from the east. this third company of pilgrims in quest of el dorado proved to be nicholas federmann and his hard-bitted germans from the colony in venezuela who had followed the trail made by dalfinger and then plunged into the wilderness beyond his furthest outpost. thus these three daring expeditions, quesada from the north, belalcazar from the south, and federmann from the east, met face to face on the hitherto unknown plateau of cundinamarca. none had been aware of the others' march in search of this goal, and each had believed himself to be the discoverer of this country. they were ready to fly at one another's throats, for there could be no amity when gold was the prize at stake. curiously enough the three forces were evenly matched in fighting strength, each with about one hundred and sixty men. one might think that the two spanish parties would have united to drive the germans from the home of el dorado, but greed stifled all natural ties and emotions. a conflict was averted by the tact and sagacity of quesada and the priests of the expeditions who acted as a committee of arbitration. it was finally agreed among the leaders that the several claims should be submitted to the spanish court, and quesada, belalcazar, and federmann set out for spain to appear in person, leaving their forces in possession of the disputed territory. the command of the spanish troops was turned over to hernan perez de quesada, the cruel and greedy brother of the leader, who fortified himself at bogotá and proceeded to rob the muysca people of the last ounce of gold that could be extorted by means of torture and all manner of unspeakable wickedness. in he tried to drain the lake of guatavita, tempted by the stories of the vast treasures of gold and jewels that, for centuries, had been thrown into the water by the worshipers, but he recovered valuables only to the amount of four thousand ducats. it was the remains of his drainage tunnel which humboldt found and made note of. with the conquest of this region was obtained the last great store of gold discovered by the plundering spaniards in south america. these explorers finished when [transcriber's note: what?] pizarro had begun in peru. to convey the treasure from bogotá to the coast of the carribean a road was built through the mountains, much of it cut as a narrow shelf in solid rock, winding and dipping in a dizzy route to connect with the upper reaches of navigation on the rio magdalena. this was the famous _el camino real_, or "king's highway" which is still used as one of the roads by which the capital of colombia, santa fé de bogotá is reached by the traveler of the twentieth century. it was to intercept one of these treasure trains that amyas leigh and his doughty comrades of "westward ho!" lay in wait, and the fiction of kingsley will better serve to portray the time and place than the facts as the old historians strung them together. "bidding farewell once and forever to the green ocean of the eastern plains, they have crossed the cordillera; they have taken a longing glance at the city of santa fé, lying in the midst of rich gardens on its lofty mountain plateau, and have seen, as was to be expected, that it was far too large for any attempt of theirs. but they have not altogether thrown away their time. their indian lad has discovered that a gold-train is going down from santa fé toward the magdalena; and they are waiting for it beside the miserable rut that serves for a road, encamped in a forest of oaks which would make them almost fancy themselves back in europe were it not for the tree-ferns which form the undergrowth; and were it not for the deep gorges opening at their very feet; in which while their brows are swept by the cool breezes of a temperate zone, they can see far below, dim through their everlasting vapor bath of rank, hot steam, the mighty forms and gorgeous colors of the tropic forest. "... at last, up from beneath there was a sharp crack and a loud cry. the crack was neither the snapping of a branch, nor the tapping of a woodpecker; the cry was neither the scream of a parrot, nor the howl of a monkey. "'that was a whip's crack,' said yeo, 'and a woman's wail. they are close here, lads!' "'a woman's? do they drive women in their gangs?' asked amyas. 'why not, the brutes? there they are, sir. did you see their basnets glitter?' "'men!' said amyas in a low voice. 'i trust you all not to shoot till i do. then give them one arrow, out swords, and at them! pass the word along.' "up they came, slowly, and all hearts beat loud at their coming. first, about twenty soldiers, only one half of whom were on foot; the other half being borne, incredible as it may seem, each in a chair on the back of a single indian, while those who marched had consigned their heaviest armor and their arquebuses into the hands of attendant slaves, who were each pricked on at will by the pikes of the soldiers behind them.... last of this troop came some inferior officer also in his chair, who as he went slowly up the hill, with his face turned toward the gang which followed, drew every other second the cigar from his lips to inspirit them with those pious ejaculations ... which earned for the pious spaniards of the sixteenth century the uncharitable imputation of being the most abominable swearers in europe. "... a line of indians, negroes, and zamboes, naked, emaciated, scarred with whips and fetters, and chained together by their left wrists, toiled upwards, panting and perspiring under the burden of a basket held up by a strap which passed across their foreheads. yeo's sneer was but too just; there were not only old men and youths among them, but women; slender young girls, mothers with children running at their knee; and at the sight, a low murmur of indignation rose from the ambushed englishmen, worthy of the free and righteous hearts of those days, when raleigh could appeal to man and god, on the ground of a common humanity, in behalf of the outraged heathens of the new world. "but the first forty, so amyas counted, bore on their backs a burden which made all, perhaps, but him and yeo, forget even the wretches who bore it. each basket contained a square package of carefully corded hide; the look whereof friend amyas knew full well. "'what's in they, captain?' "'gold!' and at that magic word all eyes were strained greedily forward, and such a rustle followed that amyas, in the very face of detection, had to whisper: "'be men, be men, or you will spoil all yet.'" the muskets and long-bows of the stout englishmen avenged the wrongs of this pitiable caravan, although there was no help for a vast multitude of indians who were put to death with devilish torments by their conquerors. but the legend of the el dorado still survived and it spread like an avenging spirit. "transplanted by the over-excited imagination of the white man, the vision appeared like a mirage enticing, deceiving and leading men to destruction, on the banks of the orinoco, and the amazon, in omagua and parime." the conquest of bogotá made them believe that the gilded man and his golden kingdom were somewhere just beyond. the licentiate, juan de castellanos, wrote a poem which was published in , telling of the legend as it had existed in quito in the days of the _conquistadores_. "when with that folk came annasco, benalcazar learned from a stranger then living in the city of quito, but who called bogotá his home, of a land there rich in golden treasure, rich in emeralds glistening the rock. . . . . . . . . . . a chief was there, who stripped of vesture, covered with golden dust from crown to toe, sailed with offerings to the gods upon a lake borne by the waves upon a fragile raft, the dark flood to brighten with golden light."[ ] another and more imaginative version of the story was told to oviedo[ ] by divers spaniards whom he met in san domingo. they had heard from indians in quito that the great lord, el dorado, always went about covered with powdered gold, because he thought this kind of garment more beautiful and distinguished than any decorations of beaten gold. the lesser chiefs were in the habit of adorning themselves likewise, but were not so lavish as the king who put on his gold dust every morning and washed it off at night. he first anointed himself with a fragrant liquid gum, to which the gold dust adhered so evenly that he resembled a brilliant piece of artfully hammered gold metal. for more than half a century, the mad quest continued, and always there came tragedy and disaster. the german colony of venezuela was wiped out because of these futile expeditions into the interior. gonzalo pizarro, brother of the great francisco, set out to find the city of legend, and returned after two years, in such dreadful plight that the survivors of the party looked more like wild animals than men, "so that one could no longer recognize them." pedro de urzua started from bogotá to find a "golden city of the sun," and his expedition founded the town of pampluna. in the same leader was appointed "governor of omagua and el dorado," and he set out to find his domain by way of the amazon. urzua was murdered by lope de aguirre who treacherously conspired against him, and aguirre descended the great river and finally reached venezuela after one of the maddest piratical cruises ever recorded. guimilla, in a "history of the oronoke," says: "i find it (el dorado) related with such an exact description of the country, as the missionaries of my province and myself have recognized, that i cannot doubt it. i have seen in the jurisdiction of varinas, in the mountains of pedrarca, in , the brass halberd which urzua took with him in his expedition. i have been acquainted with don joseph cabarte who directed for thirty years the missions of agrico and the oronoke, the countries traversed by urzua, and he appeared to be fully persuaded that that was the route to el dorado." meanwhile the myth had assumed new forms. on the southwestern tributaries of the amazon were the fabled districts of enim and paytiti said to have been founded by incas who had fled from peru and to have surpassed ancient cuzco in splendor. north of the amazon the supposed city of el dorado moved eastward until in raleigh's time it was situated in guiana beside lake parima. this lake remained on english maps until the explorations of schomburgh in the nineteenth century proved that it was nothing more than a pond in a vast swamp. the emerald mountain of espirito santo and the martyrios gold mine, long sought for in western brazil recalled the el dorado myth; while far to the southward in the plains of the argentine the city of cæsar, with silver walls and houses was another alluring and persistent phantom. it was said to have been founded by shipwrecked spanish sailors, and even late in the eighteenth century expeditions were sent in search for it. it was not until that the spanish ceased to pursue the fatal phantom city of el dorado and southey's history of the brazils is authority for the statement that these "expeditions cost spain more than all the treasures she had received from her south american possessions." there is more meaning than appears on the surface in the spanish proverb, "happiness is only to be found in el dorado which no one yet has been able to reach." alas, that sir walter raleigh should have been lured to seek in guiana the fabled el dorado which had now become the splendid city of manoa built on the shores of a vast inland lake of salt water. it was in this guise that he heard the transplanted and exaggerated story of the gilded man. his own narrative, as included in hakluyt's voyages, is entitled:[ ] "the discovery of the large, rich and beautiful empire of guiana, with a relation of the great and golden city of manoa (which the spaniards call el dorado) and the provinces of emeria, aromaia, amapaia, and other countries, with their rivers adjoining. performed in the year by sir walter raleigh, knight, captain of her majesty's guard, lord warden of the stanneries, and her highness' lieutenant general of the county of cornwall." it was while touching at the island of trinidad, outward bound, that raleigh had the misfortune to learn the story of a picturesque liar by the name of juan martinez, a derelict spanish seaman, who had sailed with the explorer diego de ordas in . "the relation of this martinez (who was the first that discovered manoa) his success and end are to be seen in the chancery of saint juan de puerto rico," writes raleigh, "whereof berreo had a copy, which appeared to be the greatest encouragement as well to berreo as to others that formerly attempted the discovery and conquest. orellana, after he failed of the discovery of guiana by the said river of the amazon, passed into spain, and there obtained a patent of the king for the invasion and conquest, but died by sea about the islands, and his fleet severed by tempest, the action for that time proceeded not. diego ordas followed the enterprise, and departed spain with six hundred soldiers and thirty horse, who arriving on the coast of guiana, was slain in mutiny, with the most part of such as favored him, as also of the rebellious part, insomuch as his ships perished, and few or none returned, neither was it certainly known what became of the said ordas until berreo found the anchor of his ship in the river of orinoco; but it was supposed, and so it is written by lopez that he perished on the seas, and of other writers diversely conceived and reported. ====================================================================== [illustration: sir walter raleigh.] ====================================================================== "and hereof it came that martinez entered so far within the land and arrived at that city of inca, the emperor; for it chanced that while ordas with his army rested at the port of morequito (who was either the first or second that attempted guiana) by some negligence the whole store of powder provided for the service was set on fire; and martinez having the chief charge[ ] was condemned by the general ordas to be executed forthwith. martinez, being much favored by the soldiers, had all the means possible procured for his life; but it could not be obtained in other sort than this; that he should be set into a canoe alone without any victuals, only with his arms, and so turned loose into the great river. "but it pleased god that the canoe was carried down the stream and that certain of the guianians met it the same evening; and having not at any time seen any christian, nor any man of that color, they carried martinez into the land to be wondered at, and so from town to town, until he came to the great city of manoa, the seat and residence of inca, the emperor. the emperor after he had beheld him, knew him to be a christian (for it was not long before that his brethren guascar[ ] and atabalipa[ ] were vanished [transcriber's note: vanquished?] by the spaniards in peru) and caused him to be lodged in his palace and well entertained. he lived seven months in manoa, but was not suffered to wander into the country anywhere. he was also brought thither all the way blindfold, led by the indians, until he came to the entrance of manoa itself, and was fourteen or fifteen days in the passage. he avowed at his death that he entered the city at noon, and then they uncovered his face, and that he traveled all that day till night through the city and the next day from sun rising to sun setting ere he came to the palace of inca. "after that martinez had lived seven months in manoa, and began to understand the language of the country, inca asked him whether he desired to return into his own country, or would willingly abide with him. but martinez not desirous to stay, obtained the favor of inca to depart; with whom he sent divers guianians to conduct him to the river of orinoco, all laden with as much gold as they could carry, which he gave to martinez at his departure. but when he was arrived near the river's side, the borderers which are called orenoqueponi robbed him and his guianians of all the treasure (the borderers being at that time at war, which inca had not conquered) save only of two great bottles of gourds, which were filled with beads of gold curiously wrought, which those orenoqueponi thought had been no other thing than his drink or meat, or grain for food, with which martinez had liberty to pass. "and so in canoes he fell down from the river of orinoco to trinidad and from thence to margarita, and also to saint juan de puerto eico, where remaining a long time for passage into spain, he died. in the time of his extreme sickness, and when he was without hope of life, receiving the sacrament at the hands of his confessor, he delivered these things, with the relation of his travels, and also called for his calabazas or gourds of the gold beads which he gave to the church and friars to be prayed for. "this martinez was he that christened the city of manoa by the name of el dorado, and as berreo informed me, upon this occasion; those guianians, and also the borderers, and all others in that tract which i have seen, are marvelous great drunkards; in which vice, i think no nation can compare with them; and at the times of their solemn feasts when the emperor carouseth with his captains, tributaries, and governors the manner is thus: "all those that pledge him are first stripped naked, and their bodies anointed all over with a kind of white balsam (by them called _curca_) of which there is great plenty, and yet very dear amongst them, and it is of all other the most precious, whereof we have had good experience. when they are anointed all over, certain servants of the emperor, having prepared gold made into fine powder, blow it through hollow canes upon their naked bodies, until they be all shining from the foot to the head: and in this sort they sit drinking by twenties, and hundreds, and continue in drunkenness sometimes six or seven days together. "the same is also confirmed by a letter written into spain, which was intercepted, which mr. robert dudley told me he had seen. upon this sight, and for the abundance of gold which he saw in the city, the images of gold in their temples, the plates, armors, and shields of gold which they used in the wars, he called it el dorado." after mentioning in detail the several ill-fated expeditions of the spanish to find the el dorado, raleigh reviews the mass of evidence in favor of the existence of the hidden and magnificent city, and as gravely relates the current reports of other wonders as prodigious as this. he it was who carried back to europe the story of the amazons, "being very desirous to understand the truth of those warlike women, because of some it is believed, of others not. and although i digress from my purpose, yet i will set down that which hath been delivered me for truth of those women, and i spake with a caique or lord of the people, that told me he had been in the river and beyond it.... they are said to be very cruel and bloodthirsty, especially to such as offer to invade their territories. these amazons have likewise great stores of these plates of gold which they recover chiefly by exchange for a kind of green stones." that the natures of these stern ladies had a softer side is prettily indicated by raleigh in the statement that in the month of april "all kings of the border assemble, and queens of the amazons; and after the queens have chosen, the rest cast lots for their valentines. this one month they feast, dance, and drink of their wines in abundance; and the moon being done, they all depart to their own provinces." among the perils that beset the road to el dorado was a terrible nation of men with no heads upon their shoulders. raleigh did not happen to encounter them during his voyage up the orinoco, but nevertheless he took pains to set down in his narrative, "which though it may be thought a mere fable, yet for mine part i am resolved it is true, because every child in the provinces of arromaia and canuri affirm the same. they are called ewaipanoma; they are reported to have their eyes in their shoulders, and their mouths in the middle of their breasts and that a long train of hair groweth backward between their shoulders.[ ] the son of topiawari, which i brought with me into england told me that they are the most mighty men of all the land, and use bows, arrows, and clubs thrice as big as any of guiana, or of the orinoco, and that one of the iwarawakeri took a prisoner of them the year before our arrival there, and brought him into the borders of aromaia, his father's country. and farther when i seemed to doubt of it, he told me that it was no wonder among them, but that they were as great a nation, and as common as any other in all the provinces, and had of late years slain many hundreds of his father's people: but it was not my chance to hear of them until i was come away, and if i had but spoken but one word of it while i was there, i might have brought one of them with me to put the matter out of doubt. such a nation was written of by mandeville[ ] whose reports were holden for fables many years, and yet since the east indies were discovered, we find his relations true of all things as heretofore were held incredible. whether it be true or no, the matter is not great, neither can there be any profit in the imagination. for my own part, i saw them not, but i am resolved that so many people did not all combine or forethink to make the report. "when i came to cumana in the west indies, afterwards by chance i spake with a spaniard dwelling not far from thence, a man of great travel, and after he knew that i had been in guiana, and so far directly west as caroli, the first question he asked me was, whether i had seen any of the ewaipanoma, which are those without heads: who being esteemed a most honest man of his word, and in all things else, told me he had seen many of them." that sir walter raleigh, the finest flower of manhood that blossomed in his age, should have believed these and other wonders does not belittle his fame. he lived and fought and sailed in a world that had not been explored and mapped and charted and photographed and written about until all the romance and mystery were driven out of it. the globe had not shrunk to a globule around which excursionists whiz in forty days on a coupon ticket. men truly great, endowed with the courage and resourcefulness of epic heroes, and the simple faith of little children, were voyaging into unknown seas to find strange lands, ready to die, and right cheerfully, for god and their king. sir walter raleigh was bound up, heart and soul, in winning guiana as a great empire for england, and when his enemies at home scouted his reports and accused him of trying to deceive the nation with his tales of el dorado, he replied with convincing sincerity and pathos: "a strange fancy it had been in me, to have persuaded my own son whom i have lost, and to have persuaded my wife to have adventured the eight thousand pounds which his majesty gave them for shelborne, and when that was spent, to persuade my wife to sell her house at mitcham in hope of enriching them by the mines of guiana, if i myself had not seen them with my own eyes! for being old and weakly, thirteen years in prison, and not used to the air, to travel and to watching, it being ten to one that i should ever have returned,--and of which, by reason of my violent sickness, and the long continuance thereof, no man had any hope, what madness would have made me undertake the journey, but the assurance of this mine."[ ] he was referring here to his fourth and last voyage in quest of el dorado. elizabeth was dead, and james i bore raleigh no good will. after the long imprisonment, for thirteen years under suspended sentence of death, he was permitted to leave the tower and embark with a fleet of thirteen ships in , it being particularly enjoined that he should engage in no hostilities with his dearest enemy, spain. it is generally believed that king james hoped and expected that such a clash of interests as was almost inevitable in the attempt to plant the english flag in guiana would give him a pretext to send raleigh to the headman's block. it was on this voyage that raleigh lost his eldest son, besides several of his ships, and utterly failed in the high-hearted purpose of setting up a kingdom whose capital city should be that splendid lost city of manoa. he was unable to avoid battles with the insolent spanish, it was in one of these that his son was killed, and when he returned to england, the price was exacted and paid. sir walter raleigh was executed in the palace yard, westminster, and thus perished one who brought great glory to england by land and sea. concerning el dorado, raleigh had given credence to no more than was believed in his time by the spanish of every port from san marta on the caribbean to quito on the pacific. the old chronicles are full of it. one instance, chosen almost at random from many of the same kind is quoted by de pons in his history of caraccas.[ ] "when the wild indian appeared before the spanish governor of guiana, don manuel centurion of angostura, he was assailed with questions which he answered with as much perspicuity and precision as could be expected from one whose most intelligible language consisted in signs. he, however, succeeded in making them understand that there was on the border of lake parima a city whose inhabitants were civilized and regularly disciplined to war. he boasted a great deal of the beauty of its buildings, the neatness of its streets, the regularity of its squares, and the riches of its people. according to him, the roofs of its principal houses were either of gold or silver. the high-priest, instead of pontifical robes, rubbed his whole body with the fat of the turtle; then they blew upon it some gold dust, so as to cover his whole body with it. in this attire, he performed the religious ceremonies. the indian sketched on a table with a bit of charcoal the city of which he had given a description. "his ingenuity seduced the governor. he asked him to serve as a guide to some spaniards he wished to send on this discovery, to which the indian consented. sixty spaniards offered themselves for the undertaking, and among others don antonio santos. they set off and traveled nearly five hundred leagues to the south, through the most frightful roads. hunger, the swamps, the woods, the precipices, the heat, the rains, destroyed almost all. when those who survived thought themselves four or five days' journey from the capital city and hoped to reach the end of all their troubles, and the object of their desires, the indian disappeared in the night. "this event dismayed the spaniards. they knew not where they were. by degrees they all perished but santos to whom it occurred to disguise himself as an indian. he threw off his clothes, covered his whole body with red paint, and introduced himself among them by his knowledge of many of their languages. he was a long time among them, until at length he fell within the power of the portugese established on the banks of the rio negro. they embarked him on the river amazon and after a very long detention, sent him back to his country." in this very brief survey of the growth and results of the el dorado legend, there is no room even to mention many of the most dramatic and disastrous expeditions which it inspired through the sixteenth century. it was, in truth, the greatest lost treasure story that the world has ever known. the age of those splendid adventurers has vanished, exploration has proved that the golden city hidden in guiana was a myth, but now and again investigation has harked back to the source of the tradition of the gilded man, at the mountain lake of guatavita on the lofty tableland of bogotá. hernan de quesada, first to try to drain the lake, was followed a few years later by antonio de sepulveda who recovered treasure from the bottom to the amount of more than one hundred thousand dollars, besides a magnificent emerald which was sold at madrid. professor liborio zerda, of the university of colombia at bogotá, has published his results of an exhaustive study of the legend and the evidence to show that the ceremonies of the gilded man were once performed at guatavita. he describes a group of figures beaten out of raw gold which was recovered from the lake and is now in the museum of that city. it represents the chief and attendants upon a _balsa_, or raft, and is considered to be a striking confirmation of the tradition. "undoubtedly this piece represents the religious ceremony which zamora has described," writes professor zerda, "with the caique of guatavita surrounded by indian priests, on the raft which was taken on the day of the ceremony to the middle of the lake. it may be, as some persons believe, that siecha lagune, and not the present guatavita, was the place of the _dorado_ ceremony, and consequently the ancient guatavita. but everything seems to indicate that there was really once a _dorado_ at bogotá." zamora, who wrote in the seventeenth century, recorded that the indians believed the spirit of the lake had built a magnificent palace beneath the water where she dwelt and demanded offerings of gold and jewels, which belief spread over all the nation of the muysca and also among strangers "who all, stricken by this wonderful occurrence, came to offer their gifts by many different routes, of which even to-day some signs remain. in the center of the lake they threw their offerings with ridiculous and vain ceremonies." in , captain charles stuart cochran of the english navy was traveling in colombia and he became keenly interested in the lake of guatavita and the chances of recovering the lost treasure by means of a drainage project. he delved into the old spanish records, assembled the traditions that were still alive among the indians and was convinced that a fabulous accumulation of gold awaited the enterprise of modern engineers. one of the ancient accounts, so he discovered, related that to escape the cruel persecution of the spanish conquerors the wealthy natives threw their gold into the lake, and that the last caique cast therein the burdens of fifty men laden with gold dust and nuggets. captain cochran did not succeed in finding the funds needed to undertake the tempting task, but his information was preserved, and made some stir in england and france. it was reserved for twentieth century treasure seekers to attack the sacred lake of guatavita, and to capitalize the venture as a joint stock company with headquarters in london and a glittering prospectus offering investors an opportunity of obtaining shares in a prospective hoard of gold and jewels worth something like a billion dollars. a concession was obtained from the government of colombia, and work begun in . as an engineering problem, draining the lake seemed practicable and comparatively inexpensive. it is a deep, transparent pool, hardly more than a thousand feet wide, almost circular, and set like a jewel in a cup-like depression near the top of a cone-shaped peak, several hundred feet above the nearby plateau. the tunnel therefore had only to pierce the hill-side to enter the lake and let the water flow out to the plain below. it was estimated that the shaft had to be driven a distance of eleven hundred feet. a small village of huts was built to shelter the engineers and laborers, and rock drilling machinery set up not far from the still visible remains of one of the shafts dug by the spanish treasure seekers of the fifteenth century. no serious obstacles were encountered until the tunnel had tapped the bottom of the lake and the water began to run off through carefully regulated sluices. then, as the surface lowered, and the submerged mud was exposed to the air, it solidified in a cement-like substance which was almost impossible to penetrate. the treasure must have sunk many feet deep in this mud during four or five centuries, and the workmen found it so baffling that operations were suspended. the promoters of the enterprise found this unexpected obstacle so much more than they had bargained for that they had to abandon it for lack of resources. in their turn they had been thwarted by the spirit of the gilded man, and the treasure of el dorado is still beyond the grasp of its eager pursuers. [ ] the performance of these ceremonies is vouched for by lucas fernandez piedrahita, bishop of panama; pedro simon, and other early spanish historians, translated and quoted by a. f. bandelier in his work, "the gilded man (el dorado)." this version agrees with that described in the volume written by the modern historian, dr. liborio zerda, professor of the university of colombia, _el dorado, estudio historico, ethnografico, y arqueologico_. [ ] translated by a. f. bandelier. [ ] oviedo, or oviedo y valdéz, royal histriographer, who witnessed the first return of columbus to spain in . he was later a treasury officer at darien, governor of cartagena, and _alcaide_ of the fort at santo domingo. he wrote the first general account of the discoveries in america, and it has remained a standard authority. his principal work is _historia natural y general de las indias_ in fifty books. [ ] for the convenience of the reader the spelling has been modernized in this and the following extracts from hakluyt. [ ] martinez was the gunner or officer "who had charge of the munitions." [ ] commonly spelled huascar and atalualpa. [ ] "her father loved me, oft invited me, still questioned me the story of my life from year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, that i have pass'd. i ran it through, even from my boyish days to the very moment that he bade me tell it: wherein i spake of most disastrous chances, of moving incidents by flood and field, of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly breach of being taken by the insolent foe, and sold to slavery,'of my redemption thence, and portance in my travel's history: wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose head touch heaven, it was my hint to speak,--such was the process; and of the cannibals that each other eat, the anthropophagi, and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders. this to hear would desdemona seriously incline." --shakespeare. (_the tragedy of othello, the moor of venice_.) [ ] the date of the first english edition of sir john mandeville's book of travels was . according to his own account he discovered this and other wonders in the kingdom of ethiopia. the book was widely read, very popular in several languages, and was one of the earliest printed books, being published in germany about . recent investigations have shown that almost the whole of the matter was cribbed from other authors, and that as a genuine explorer, sir john mandeville was the dr. frederick cook of his age. [ ] cayley's _life of raleigh_. [ ] translation of j. a. van heuvel in his "_el dorado_. being a narrative of the circumstances which gave rise to reports in the sixteenth century of the existence of a rich and splendid city in south america." ( .) chapter xiv the wizardry of the divining rod washington irving was so thoroughly versed in the lore of buried treasure that the necromancy of the divining rod, as a potent aid to this kind of industry, had received his studious attention. for many centuries, the magic wand of hazel, or various other woods, has been used, and implicitly believed in, as a guide to the whereabouts of secrets hidden underground, whether of running water, veins of metal, or buried treasure. there is nothing far-fetched, or contrary to the fact, in the lively picture of dr. knipperhausen, that experienced magician, who helped wolfert webber seek the treasure concealed by pirates on the manhattan island of the knickerbocker dutch of the "tales of a traveler." "he had passed some years of his youth among the harz mountains of germany, and had derived much valuable instruction from the miners, touching the mode of seeking treasure buried in the earth. he had prosecuted his studies also under a traveling sage who united the mysteries of medicine with magic and legerdemain. his mind therefore had become stored with all kinds of mystic lore; he had dabbled a little in astrology, alchemy, divination; knew how to detect stolen money, and to tell where springs of water lay hidden; in a word, by the dark nature of his knowledge he had acquired the name of the high-german-doctor, which is pretty nearly equivalent to that of necromancer. "the doctor had often heard rumors of treasure being buried in various parts of the island, and had long been anxious to get on the traces of it. no sooner were wolfert's waking and sleeping vagaries confided to him, than he beheld in them confirmed symptoms of a case of money digging, and lost no time in probing it to the bottom. wolfert had long been sorely oppressed in mind by the golden secret, and as a family physician is a kind of father confessor, he was glad of any opportunity of unburdening himself. so far from curing, the doctor caught the malady from his patient. the circumstances unfolded to him awakened all his cupidity; he had not a doubt of money being buried somewhere in the neighborhood of the mysterious crosses and offered to join wolfert in the search. "he informed him that much secrecy and caution must be observed in enterprises of this kind; that money is only to be digged for at night; with certain forms and ceremonies, and burning of drugs; the repeating of mystic words, and above all, that the seekers must first be provided with a divining rod, which had the wonderful property of pointing to the very spot on the surface of the earth under which treasure lay hidden. as the doctor had given much of his mind to these matters, he charged himself with all the necessary preparations, and, as the quarter of the moon was propitious, he undertook to have the divining rod ready by a certain night. "wolfert's heart leaped with joy at having met with so learned and able a coadjutor. everything went on secretly, but swimmingly. the doctor had many consultations with his patient, and the good woman of the household lauded the comforting effect of his visits. in the meantime the wonderful divining rod, that great key to nature's secrets, was duly prepared. "the following note was found appended to this passage in the handwriting of mr. knickerbocker. 'there has been much written against the divining rod by those light minds who are ever ready to scoff at the mysteries of nature; but i fully join with dr. knipperhausen in giving it my faith. i shall not insist upon its efficacy in discovering the concealment of stolen goods, the boundary stones of fields, the traces of robbers and murderers, or even the existence of subterranean springs and streams of water; albeit, i think these properties not to be readily discredited; but of its potency in discovering veins of precious metal, and hidden sums of money and jewels, i have not the least doubt. some said that the rod turned only in the hands of persons who had been born in particular months of the year; hence astrologers had recourse to planetary influences when they would procure a talisman. others declared that the properties of the rod were either an effect of chance or the fraud of the holder, or the work of the devil...." the worthy and learned mr. knickerbocker might have gone on to quote authorities by the dozen. this weighty argument of his is not delivered with a wink to the reader. he is engaged in no solemn foolery. if one desires to find pirates' gold, it is really essential to believe in the divining rod and devoutly obey its magic messages. this is proven to the hilt by that very scholarly abbé le lorrain de vallemont of france whose exhaustive volume was published in with the title of _la physique occulte_, or "treatise on the divining rod and its uses for the discovery of springs of water, metallic veins, hidden treasure, thieves, and escaped murderers." in his preface he politely sneers at those scholars who consider the study of the divining rod as an idle pursuit and shows proper vexation toward the ignorance and prejudice which are hostile to such researches. the author then indicates that the action of the divining rod is to be explained by the theory of corpuscular philosophy,[ ] and by way of concrete argument, refers to the most famous case in the ancient annals of this art. ====================================================================== [illustration: methods of manipulating the diving rod to find buried treasure. (_from la physique occulte, first edition, _.)] ====================================================================== "it seems to me that my work would have been incomplete, had i not _seen_ jacques aymar, and that the objection might have been raised that i had only argued about statements not generally accepted. this now famous man came to paris on january st, . i saw him two or three hours a day for nearly a month, and my readers may rest assured that during that time i examined him very closely. it is a positive fact that the divining rod turned in his hands in the direction of springs of water, precious metals, thieves, and escaped murderers. he does not know why. if he knew the physical cause, and had sufficient intellect to reason about it, i am convinced that, whenever he undertook an experiment he would succeed. but a peasant who can neither read nor write will know still less about _atmosphere, volume, motion of corpuscles distributed in the air, etc_. he is still more ignorant as to how these _corpuscles_ can be disturbed and cease to produce the motion and dip of the rod. neither is he capable of recognizing how essential to success it is for him to know whether he is in a fit condition to be susceptible to the action of the _corpuscles_ which are thrown off from the objects toward which the rod inclines." "i do not deny that there are cheats who profess belief in the rod, and put it to too many uses, just as quacks, with a good remedy for a special ailment, hold themselves up to contempt by wishing to palm it off as a cure-all. to this i add that people will be found who, endowed with greater and more delicate sensibility, will possess still more abundantly than he (jacques aymar) the faculty of discovering springs of water, metallic veins, and hidden treasure, as well as thieves and escaped murderers. we have already received tidings from lyons of a youth of eighteen, who surpasses by a long way jacques aymar. and anyone can see in paris to-day, at the residence of mons. geoffrey, late sheriff of that city, a young man who discovers gold buried underground by experiencing violent tremors the moment that he walks over it." m. de vallemont has no sympathy for those credulous students of natural philosophy who have brought the science into disrepute. they will scoff at the divining rod and yet swallow the grossest frauds without so much as blinking. he proceeds to give an illustration, and it will bear translating because surely it unfolds a unique yarn of buried treasure and has all the charm of novelty. "upon this subject there is nothing more entertaining than that which took place at the end of the last century, with regard to a boy who journeyed through several towns exhibiting a golden tooth which he declared had grown in the usual way. "in the year , towards easter, a rumor spread that there was in the village of weildorst in silesia, bohemia, a child seven years of age who had lost all his teeth, and that in the place of the last molar a gold tooth had appeared. no story ever created such a stir. scholars took it up. in a short time, doctors and philosophers came forward to gain knowledge and to pass judgment, as though it were a case worthy of their consideration. the first to distinguish himself was _jacobus horstius_, professor of medicine in the university of helmstad. this doctor, in a paper which he caused to be printed, demonstrated that this golden tooth was partly a work of nature and partly miraculous; and he declared that in whatever light one viewed it, it was manifestly a consolation sent from above to the christians of bohemia, on whom the turks were then inflicting the worst barbarities. "_martinus rulandus_ published simultaneously with horstius the story of the golden tooth. it is true that two years later _johannes ingolsteterus_ refuted the story of rulandus, but the latter in the same year, , not in the least discouraged, defended his work against the attacks of ingolsteterus. "_andreas libavius_ then entered the lists, and published a book in which he recounted what had been said for and against the golden tooth. this gave rise to great disputes concerning a matter which ultimately proved to be a somewhat clumsy deception. the child was taken to breslau, where everybody hastened to see so wonderful a novelty. they brought him before a number of doctors, assembled in great perplexity to examine the famous golden tooth. amongst them was _christophorus rhumbaumius_, a professor of medicine, who was most anxious to see before believing. "first of all, a goldsmith, wishing to satisfy himself that the tooth was of gold, applied to it his touch-stone, and the line left on the stone appeared, to the naked eye, to be in real gold, but on the application of aqua fortis to this line, every trace disappeared, and a part of the swindle was exposed. christophorus khumbaumius, an intelligent and skillful man, on examining the tooth more closely, perceived in it a little hole, and, inserting a probe, found that it was simply a sheet of copper probably washed with gold. he could with ease have removed the copper covering had not the trickster, who was taking the child from town to town, opposed it, complaining bitterly of the injury that was being done him by thus depriving him of the chance of taking money from the curious and the credulous. "the swindler and child disappeared, and no one knows to this day exactly what became of them. but because learned men have been duped now and then, that is no reason for perpetual doubt.... and although the story of the golden tooth be false, we should be wrong capriciously to reject that of the hazel rod which has become so famous." having extinguished the skeptics, as one snuffs a candle, by means of this admirable tale of the golden tooth, the learned author asserts that "it must denote great ignorance of france, and even of books, never to have heard of the divining rod. for i can say with certainty that i have met quite by chance, both in paris and the provinces, more than fifty persons who have used this simple instrument in order to find water, precious metals and hidden treasure, and in whose hands it has actually turned. 'it is more reasonable,' says father malebranche, 'to believe one man who says, _i have seen_, than a million others who talk at random.' "it is somewhat difficult to determine exactly the period at which the divining rod first came into use. i have discovered no reference to it by writers previous to the middle of the fifteenth century. it is frequently referred to in the testament de basile valentin, a benedictine monk who flourished about ,[ ] and i observe that he speaks of it in a way which might lead one to suppose that the use of this rod was known before that period. "might we venture to advance the theory that the divine rod was known and used nearly two thousand years ago?[ ] are we to count for naught cicero's illusion to divination by means of the rod, at the end of the first book of his 'de officiis,' 'if all that we need for our nourishment and clothing comes to us, as people say, by means of some divine rod, then each of us should relinquish public affairs and devote all his time to the study.' "varro, according to vetranius maurus, left a satire called 'virgula divina,' which was often quoted by nonius marcellus in his book entitled _de proprietate sermonum_. but what serves to convince me that cicero had in his mind the hazel twig, and that it was known at that period, is the passage he quotes from ennius, in the first half of his 'de divinatione,' in which the poet, scoffing at those who for a drachma profess to teach the art of discovering hidden treasure, says to them, 'i will give it you with pleasure, but it will be paid out of the treasure found according to your method.'" and so this seventeenth century frenchman, his manner as wise as a tree-full of owls, drones along from one musty authority to another in defense of the mystic powers of the divining rod. he marshals them in batteries of heavy artillery--names of scholars and alleged scientists who made a great noise in their far-off times when the world was younger and more given to wonderment. the discussions that raged among those dry-as-dusts have interest to-day because the doctrine of the divining rod is still vigorously alive and its rites are practiced in every civilized country. call it what you will, a curiously surviving superstition or a natural mystery, the "dowser" with his forked twig of hazel or willow still commands a large following of believers and his services are sought, in hundreds of instances every year, to discover springs of water and hidden treasure. learned societies have not done with debating the case, and the literature of the phenomenon is in process of making. no one, however, has contributed more formidable ammunition than m. de vallemont, who could discharge such broadsides as this: "father roberti, who writes in the strongest terms against the divining rod, nevertheless admits, in the heat of the conflict, that the indications on which the most scholarly of men set to work to discover mineral soil are all more or less unreliable, and result in endless mistakes. "'what!' says this jesuit father, 'is it possible that people are willing to attribute greater knowledge and judgment to a rough and lifeless piece of wood than to hundreds of enlightened men? they survey fields, mountains and valleys, devoting scrupulous attention to everything that comes under their notice; not a trace of metal do they discover; and if they happen to suspect that there might be such a thing at a certain spot, they confess that their surmise may be quite unfounded, and that every day they learn to their sorrow, after infinite labor and suspense, that their signs are altogether deceptive. "'such a one as goclenius,[ ] however, armed with his fork, will wander over the same ground, and led by that instrument, clearer-sighted than the wisest of men, will infallibly come to a standstill over treasures hidden in the earth. excavations will be made at the spot indicated and the treasures will be laid bare. _my dear reader, do you wish me to speak candidly? it is the devil who is guiding goclenius_.'" in this emphatic statement of the devout french priest of two centuries ago is to be traced the still lingering superstition of an infernal partnership in buried treasure. it is to be found in scores of coastwise legends of pirates' gold (no kidd story is properly decorated without its guardian demon or menacing ghost), and the divining rod, handed down from an age of witchcraft, necromancy, and black magic, deserves a place in the kit of every well-equipped treasure seeker. sober, hard-headed scotchmen from glasgow employ a yorkshire "dowser" to search for the treasure lost in the _florencia_ galleon in tobermory bay, and he shows them, and they are convinced, that he can tell whether it be gold, or silver, or copper, which exerts its occult influence over his divining rod.[ ] this happens in the year , mind you, but our ardent investigator, m. de vallemont, was writing two hundred years before: "but, with the divining rod, it is possible to distinguish what metal is contained in the mine towards which the rod inclines. for if a gold coin be placed in each hand, the rod will only turn in the direction of gold, because it becomes impregnated with the _corpuscles_ or minute particles of gold. if silver be treated in the same way, the rod will only dip towards silver. this, at any rate, is what we are told by those who pride themselves on their successful use of the rod." john stears, the expert diviner, who was recently employed at tobermory bay, is more frequently retained to search for water than for lost treasure. this is his vocation and he takes it seriously enough, as his own words indicate:[ ] "the power is not in the rod, but in the user, the rod acting as an indicator, and rising when over a stream. by moving the arms as i proceed, i can keep on the edge of an underground stream, for the apex descends when the rod is not over the stream. i have several times followed a line of water down to the shore, being rowed out in the bay, and found the water boiling up mixed with land weeds. at such a spot there is no movement of the rod except over the course of the stream. it is almost impossible to describe the sensation caused whilst using the rod; it is sometimes like a current of electricity going through the arms and legs. on raising one foot from the ground the rod descends. the effect produced when walking is that the rod has the appearance of a fishing rod when the fish is hooked,--the rod seems alive. move it clear of the line of water and down it goes. "very few people have the gift of finding water or minerals, and not many rods will do, but those that have thorns on them are all right. in the tropics i used acacia, and in southern europe the holly or orange. the use of the rod is exhausting. if i have been at it a few hours, the power gradually gets less. a rest and some sandwiches produce fresh power, and i can start again. "i think the friction of the water against the rock underground must cause some electric current, for if the person using the rod stands on a piece of glass, india-rubber, or other insulating material, all power leaves him. "in cashmere, the rod is used before a well is sunk, and when the french army went to tonkin, they used the rod for finding drinking water at their camps, as they feared the wells were poisoned." if the divining rod is able to fathom the secrets of underground water channels, it must be as potent in the case of buried treasure. several years ago, the claims of the modern "dowsers" were investigated by no less an authority than professor w. f. barrett, holding the chair of experimental physics in the royal college of science for ireland. the results were presented to the society of psychical research and published in two volumes of its proceedings. he said in his introductory pages: "at first sight, few subjects appear to be so unworthy of serious notice and so utterly beneath scientific investigation as that of the divining rod. to most men of science, the reported achievements of the diviner are on a par with the rogueries of sir walter scott's 'dousterswivel.' that anyone with the smallest scientific training should think it worth his while to devote a considerable amount of time and labor to an enquiry into the alleged evidence on behalf of the 'rod' will appear to my scientific friends about as sensible as if he spent his time investigating fortune-telling or any other relic of superstitious folly. nor was my own prejudice against the subject any less than that of others. for i confess that it was with great reluctance, and even repugnance, that some six years ago, yielding to the earnest request of the council of the society for psychical research, i began an investigation of the matter, hoping, however, in my ignorance, that a few weeks work would enable me to relegate it 'to a limbo, large and broad, since called the paradise of fools.'" in the summing-up of his exhaustive investigations, professor barrett committed himself to these conclusions: " . that the twisting of the forked twig, or so-called divining rod, is due to involuntary muscular action on the part of the dowser. " . that this is the result of an ideo-motor action; any idea or suggestion, whether conscious, or sub-conscious, that is associated in the dowser's mind with the twisting of the twig, will cause it to turn apparently spontaneously in his hands. " . hence the divining rod has been used in the search for all sorts of things, from criminals to water, its action being precisely similar to the '_pendule explorateur_,' i.e., a small suspended ball or ring depending by a thread from the hand. " . dismissing, therefore, the mere twisting of the forked rod, the question at issue is, how is the suggestion derived by the dowser that starts this involuntary muscular action? here the answer is a very complex and difficult one. " . careful and critical examination shows that certain dowsers (not all in whose hands the twig turns) have a genuine facility or faculty for finding underground water beyond that possessed by ordinary well-sinkers. "part of this success is due ( st) to shrewd observation and the conscious and unconscious detection of the surface signs of underground water. ( nd) a residue, say ten per cent or fifteen per cent of their successes cannot be so explained, nor can these be accounted for by chance nor lucky hits, the proportion being larger than the doctrine of probabilities would account for. "this residue no known scientific explanation can account for. personally, i believe the explanation will be found in some faculty akin to clairvoyance; but as the science of to-day does not recognize such a faculty, i prefer to leave the explanation to future inquirers, and to throw on the skeptic the task of disproving my assertions, and giving his own explanations." this unexplained residue, "akin to clairvoyance," as admitted by a scientist of to-day who wears a top-hat and rides in taxi-cabs, clothes the divining rod in the same alluring mystery which so puzzled those childlike and credulous observers of remote and misty centuries. the abbé de vallemont, writing in , found the problem hardly more difficult to explain than does this professor of experimental physics in the royal college of science. the wise men of the seventeenth century strove hard to comprehend the "unexplained residue," each after his own fashion. michael mayerus, in his book entitled _verum inventum, hoc est, munera germanæ_, claimed that the world was indebted to germany for the invention of gunpowder, and stated that the first wood-charcoal used in its manufacture, mixed with sulphur and saltpeter, was made from the hazel tree. this lead him to refer to the sympathy existing between hazel wood and metals, and to add that for this reason the divining rod was made of this particular wood, which was peculiarly adapted to the discovery of hidden gold and silver. philip melanchthon, - , famously learned in natural philosophy and theology, discoursed on sympathy, of which he recognized six degrees in nature, and in the second of these he named that sympathy or affinity which is found to exist between plants and minerals. he used as an illustration the forked hazel twig employed by those who search after gold, silver, and other precious metals. he attributed the movement of the rod to the metallic juices which nourish the hazel tree in the soil, and he was therefore convinced that its peculiar manifestations were wholly sympathetic and according to natural law. neuheusius spoke of the divining rod as a marvel from the bounteous hands of nature, and exhorted men to use it in the search for mineral wealth and concealed treasure. enchanted with this insignificant-looking instrument, he exclaimed: "what shall i say now concerning the divine rod, which is but a simple hazel twig, and yet possesses the power of divination in the discovery of metals, be that power derived from mutual sympathy, from some secret astral influence, or from some still more powerful source. let us take courage and use this salutary rod, so that, after having withdrawn the metals from the abode of the dead, we may seek in the metals themselves some such faculty for divination as we find in the hazel." rudolph glauber, who made many experiments with the rod, had this to say of it: "metallic veins can also be discovered by means of the hazel rod. it is used for that purpose, and i speak after long experience. melt the metals under a certain constellation, and make a ball of them pierced through the middle; thrust into the hole thus formed a young sprig of hazel, of the same year, with no branches. carry this rod straight in front of you over the places where metals are believed to be, and when the rod dips and the ball inclines towards the soil, you may rest assured that metal lies beneath. _and as this method is based on natural law, it should undoubtedly be used in preference to any other_." egidius gustman, supposedly a rosicrucian friar, and author of a work entitled _la revelation de la divine majeste_, devoted a chapter to the study of the question "whether hazel rods may be used without sin in the search for metals." he reached the conclusion that there could be nothing unchristian in their employment for the discovery of gold and silver, provided neither words, ceremonies, nor enchantments be called into requisition, and that it be done "in the fear and under the eyes of god." m. de vallemont quotes as his final authority the abbé gallet, grand penitentiary of the church of carpentras. he considers that the abbé's high position in the church, and his deep knowledge of physics and mathematics, should lend great weight to his opinion concerning the divining rod. he therefore requests a mutual friend to put to the abbé this question, "is not the inclination of the rod due to sleight of hand or something in which the devil may play a part?" the abbé returns a long reply in latin, which de vallemont is pleased to translate and print in his book. it opens thus: "monsieur l'abbé gallet declares in his own hand that the rod turns in the direction of water and of metals; that he has used it several times with admirable success in order to find water-courses and hidden treasure, and that he is far from agreeing with those who maintain that there is in it any trickery or diabolical influence." william cookworthy, who flourished in england about , was a famous exponent of the divining rod, and he laid down a most elaborate schedule of directions for its use in finding hidden treasure or veins of gold or silver. in conclusion, he sagely observed:[ ] "i would remark that 'tis plain a person may be very easily deceived in making experiments with this instrument, there being, in metallic countries, vast quantities of attracting stones scattered through the earth. the attractions of springs continually occurring; and even about town, bits of iron, pins, etc. may easily be the means of deceiving the unwary. for as quantity makes no alteration in the strength, but only in the wideness of the attraction, a pin under one foot would stop the attraction of any quantity of every other sort, but gold, which might be under the other.... whoever, therefore, will make experiments need be very cautious in exploring the ground, and be sure not to be too anxious, for which reason i would advise him, in case of debates, not to be too warm and lay wagers on the success, but, unruffled, leave the unbelievers to their infidelity, and permit time and providence to convince people of the reality of the thing." if one would know how to fashion the divining rod to give most surely the magic results, he has only to consult "the shepherd's calendar and countryman's companion" in which it is affirmed: "cut a hazel wand forked at the upper end like a y. peel off the rind and dry it in a moderate heat; then steep it in the juice of wake-robin or night-shade, and cut the single lower end sharp, and where you suppose any rich mine or treasure is near, place a piece of the same metal you conceive is hid in the earth to the tip of one of the forks by a hair or very fine silk or thread, and do the like to the other end. pitch the sharp single end lightly to the ground at the going down of the sun, the moon being at the increase, and in the morning at sunrise, by a natural sympathy, you will find the metal inclining, as it were, pointing to the place where the other is hid." according to the author of the modern book, "the divining rod and its uses,"[ ] "it is curious to note that about one hundred years ago there was considerable excitement in the north of england owing to the remarkable powers possessed by a lady of quality in the district, this being no other than judith noel, afterwards lady milbank, the mother of lady byron. miss noel discovered her marvelous faculty when a mere girl, yet so afraid was she of being ridiculed that she would not publicly declare it, thinking she might be called a witch, or that she would not get a husband. lady milbank afterwards overcame her prejudice and used the rod on many occasions with considerable success." about , a certain madame caillavah of paris was at the height of her fame as a high-priestess of the divining rod, and her pretensions with respect to finding buried treasure quite set france by the ears. she was besought to discover, among other hoards, the twelve golden effigies taken from the saint chapelle during the revolution and hidden underground for safe-keeping; the treasure of king stanislaus, buried outside the gates of nancy; and the vast accumulations of the petits pères, or begging friars. the french government took madame seriously and permitted her to operate by means of an agreement which should insure a proper division of the spoils. there could be no better authority for the singular exploits of madame caillavah than the columns of _the london times_ which stated in the issue of october th, : "a certain madame caillavah, who in spite of a long experience does not yet bring the credentials of success, is said to be exploring the pavement of st. denis[ ] in search of buried treasures. the french government likes partnerships, conventions, and co-dominions, and it insists on what almost amounts to the lion's share of the spoil. nevertheless, a good many people have been found to invest largely in the enterprise, which will cost something if it comes to actual digging. the investigation itself is not in the nature of an excavation, nor is it with the spade or the pickax, unless, indeed, it should turn out that it is a veritable gold mine under st. denis, when the royal monuments may be thankful if even dynamite be not freely resorted to. "the divining rod is to lead the way.... at the beginning of this century france was one vast field of buried treasure. the silver coin was so bulky that £ of our money would be a hundredweight to carry, and £ , would be a cartload. so it was buried in the hope of a speedy return. the fugitive owners perished or died in exile. their successors on the spot came upon one hoard after another, and said nothing about it. that they did find the money and put it in circulation, there could be no doubt, for it was impossible to take a handful of silver forty years ago without one or two pieces showing a green rust in place of a white luster. this was the result of long interment, and calculations were made as to the likely total of the exhumation. "but one then heard nothing of the divining rod, not at least in cities, in cathedrals, among the sepulchers of kings, and in the department of state. our first wish is that the experiment may be quite successful. it would be so very surprising; quite a new sensation, much wanted in these days. but there would be something more than a passing sensation. even a moderate success would discover to us a means of support and a mode of existence far easier and pleasanter than any yet known. we should only have to walk about, very slowly with the orthodox rod, properly held and handled, keeping our attention duly fixed on the desirableness of a little more money, and we should find it springing up, as it were, from the ground before us.... "the french minister of fine arts need not be deterred,--nay, it is plain he is not deterred,--by the scruples that interrupted the investigations of the great linné and stopped him on the very threshold of verification. on one of his travels his secretary brought him a divining wand, with an account of its powers. linné hid a purse containing one hundred ducats under a _ranunculus_[ ] in the garden. he then took a number of witnesses who experimented with the wand all over the ground, but without success. indeed, they trod the ground so completely that linné could not find where he had buried the purse. "they then brought in the 'man with the wand' and he immediately pointed out the right direction, and then the very spot where the money lay. linné's remark was that another experiment would convert him to the wand. but he resolved not to be converted, and therefore did not repeat the experiment. possibly feeling that it was neither science nor religion, he would have nothing to do with any other conceivable alternative." in _the london times_ of november rd, , there was published under the head of "foreign intelligence," the following dispatch which may be regarded as a tragic sequel of the foregoing paragraphs: "the titular archbishop of lepanto, who is the head of the chapter of st. denis, has addressed a remonstrance to the government against the renewed divining rod experiments on which madame caillavah is insisting under her compact with the state for a division of the spoils. he dwells on the absurdity of the theory that on the revolutionary seizure of the benedictines could have concealed a portion of their treasures, of which printed lists existed and the most valuable of which were notoriously confiscated. "as to the notion of an earlier secretion of treasures, the memory of which had perished, he urges that st. denis having belonged to the benedictines from its very erection, no motive for secretion existed and had there been any, the tradition or record of it would have been preserved, while at least four successive reconstructions would certainly have brought any such treasure to light. the mob of , moreover, actually ransacked the vaults, after the removal of the bodies, for the very purpose of discovering such secret hoards. st. denis, in short, is the very last place in the world for treasure-trove, and as for the central crypt, which the sorceress claims to break into, it was rifled in when it contained fifty-three bodies which left no vacant space. "the archbishop need scarcely have troubled himself with this demonstration. public ridicule has made an end of the project, and even if madame caillavah carried out her threat of a lawsuit, no tribunal would hold her entitled to carry on excavations _ad libitum_, with a risk, perhaps, of herself and her workmen being buried under the ruins of the finest of french cathedrals. in debating the fine arts department estimates, m. delattre, deputy for st. denis, animadverted on the divining rod experiments in the cathedral. m. tirard replied that the government had had no share in this ridiculous business. the treaty with the sorceress was concluded in january, , by an official who had since been superannuated, but was not acted upon till she could deposit two hundred francs guarantee, and as soon as he himself heard of the experiments he put a peremptory stop to them. "it is important here to observe that it afterwards transpired that the object of madame caillavah's lawsuit was not so much to obtain damages for any breach of contract as to vindicate her private and public character and her professional reputation as a so-called 'diviner' from the odium, scorn, and defamation which the repudiation of the treaty so universally entailed. the sad result of all this was that the unfortunate and sensitive lady was not able to withstand the opprobrium that was heaped upon her, nor 'the ridicule that made an end of her project.' this maligned and misunderstood lady (who, as expressly stated, 'had no doubt brought a good pedigree with her') after a few months of sorrow, and conscious of her rectitude, at length succumbed and, as reported, ultimately died of a 'broken heart.'" [ ] "_corpuscular philosophy_, that which attempts to account for the phenomena of nature, by the motion, figure, rest, position, etc., of the minute particles of matter."--_webster's dictionary_. [ ] andrew lang writes in a chapter on the divining rod in _custom and myth_: "the great authority for the modern history of the divining rod is a work published by m. chevreul in paris in . m. chevreul, probably with truth, regarded the wand as much on a par with the turning tables which, in , attracted a good deal of attention.... m. chevreul could find no earlier book on the twig than the _testament du frere_, basile valentin, a holy man who flourished (the twig) about , but whose treatise is possibly apocryphal. according to basile valentin, the twig was regarded with awe by ignorant laboring men, which is still true." [ ] "and jacob took him rods of green poplar, and of the hazel and chestnut tree; and pilled white strakes in them, and made the white appear which was in the rods. "and he set the rods which he had pilled before the flocks in the gutters in the watering troughs when the flocks came to drink, that they should conceive when they came to drink." (genesis xxx, - .) "and the lord said unto moses, go on before the people, and take with thee of the elders of israel; and thy rod, wherewith thou smotest the river, take in thy hand, and go. "behold, i will stand before thee there upon the rock in horeb; and thou shalt smite the rock, and there shall come water out of it, that the people may drink. and moses did so in the sight of the elders of israel." (exodus xvii, - .) [ ] goclenius was a diviner who also professed to make "magnetic cures." [ ] see chapter , p. . [ ] quoted from the volume, _water divining_ (london, ). [ ] the gentleman's magazine (london, ). [ ] by young and robertson (london, ). [ ] for centuries the home of the benedictine order. [ ] in plain english, flowers of the buttercup family. chapter xv sundry pirates and their booty "seven years were gone and over, wild roger came again, he spoke of forays and of frays upon the spanish main, and he had stores of gold galore, and silks and satins fine, and flasks and casks of malvoisie, and precious gascon wine; rich booties had he brought, he said, across the western wave. but roger was the same man still,--he scorned his brother's prayers-- he called his crew, away he flew, and on those foreign shores, got killed in some outlandish place,--they called it the eyesores." (_ingoldsby legends._) the popular delusion that pirates found nothing better to do with their plunder than to bury it, like so many thrifty depositors in savings banks, clashes with what is known of the habits and temperaments of many of the most industrious rovers under the black flag. by way of a concluding survey of the matter, let us briefly examine the careers of divers pirates of sorts and try to ascertain what they did with their gold and whether it be plausible to assume that they had any of it left to bury. of course, romance and legend are up in arms at the presumption that any well-regulated and orthodox pirate omitted the business with the pick and shovel and the chart with the significant crosses and compass bearings, but the prosaic facts of history are due to have their innings. for example, there was jean lafitte who amassed great riches in the pursuit of his profession and whose memory has inspired innumerable treasure-seeking expeditions in the gulf of mexico and along the coast of central america. after ravaging the commerce of the east india company in the waters of the far east, he set up his headquarters on an island among the bayous and cypress swamps of that desolate region below new orleans that is known as barrataria. a deep-water pass ran to the open sea, only two leagues distant, and on the shores of the sheltered harbor of grand terre, lafitte organized the activities of a large number of pirates and smugglers and formed a flourishing colony; a corporation, in its way, for disposing of the merchandise filched from honest shipping. these marauders posed as privateers, and some of them had french and other commissions for sailing against the spanish, but there was a great deal of laxity in such trifles as living up to the letter of the law. at grand terre, lafitte and his people sold the cargoes of their prizes by public auction, and from all parts of lower louisiana bargain-hunters flocked to barrataria to deal in this tempting traffic. the goods thus purchased were smuggled into new orleans and other nearby ports, and lafitte's piratical enterprises became so notorious that the government of the united states sent an expedition against him in , commanded by commodore patterson. at grand terre he found a settlement so great in force and numbers as to constitute a small kingdom ruled by lafitte. the commodore described the encounter in a letter to the secretary of war, and said in part: "at half-past eight o'clock a.m. on the th of june, made the island of barrataria, and discovered a number of vessels in the harbor some of which showed the colors of carthagena. at two o'clock, perceived the pirates forming their vessels, ten in number, including prizes, into a line of battle near the entrance of the harbor, and making every preparation to offer battle. at ten o'clock, wind light and variable, formed the order of battle with six gun boats and the _sea horse_ tender, mounting one six pounder and fifteen men, and a launch mounting one twelve pound carronade; the schooner _carolina_ drawing too much water to cross the bar. "at half-past ten o'clock, perceived several smokes along the coasts as signals, and at the same time a white flag hoisted on board a schooner at the fort, an american flag at the mainmast head, and a carthagenian flag (under which the pirates cruise) at her topping-lift. i replied with a white flag at my main. at eleven o'clock discovered that the pirates had fired two of their best schooners; hauled down my white flag and made the signal for battle; hoisting a large flag bearing the words _pardon for deserters_, having heard there was a number on shore from our army and navy. at a quarter past eleven o'clock, two gun-boats grounded, and were passed, agreeably to my previous orders, by the other four which entered the harbor, manned by my barge and the boats belonging to the grounded vessels, and proceeded in. to my great disappointment, i perceived that the pirates had abandoned their vessels and were flying in all directions. i immediately sent the launch and two barges with small boats in pursuit of them. "at meridian, took possession of all their vessels in the harbor, consisting of six schooners and one felucca, cruisers and prizes of the pirates, one brig, a prize, and two armed schooners under the carthagenian flag, both in the line of battle with the armed vessels of the pirates, and apparently with an intention to aid them in any resistance they might make against me, as their crews were at quarters, tompions out of their guns, and matches lighted. colonel ross (with seventy-five infantry) at the same time landed and took possession of their establishment on shore, consisting of about forty houses of different sizes, badly constructed and thatched with palmetto leaves. "when i perceived the enemy forming their vessels into a line of battle, i felt confident from their number, and very advantageous position, and their number of men, that they would have fought me. their not doing so i regret, for had they, i should have been able more effectually to destroy or make prisoners of them and their leaders. the enemy had mounted on their vessels twenty pieces of cannon of different caliber, and as i have since learned, had from eight hundred to one thousand men of all nations and colors." notwithstanding this unfriendly visit, lafitte was a patriot after his own fashion and during the war of his sympathies were with the american forces. in september, , captain lockyer, of a british naval vessel, anchored in the pass at barrataria, and delivered to lafitte a packet of documents comprising a proclamation addressed to the inhabitants of louisiana by colonel edward nichalls, commander of the english forces on the coast of florida, a letter from him to lafitte, and another from the honorable w. h. percy, captain of the sloop-of-war _hermes_. the upshot of all this was a proposal that lafitte enter the british naval service in command of a frigate, and if he would take his men with him he should have thirty thousand dollars, payable at pensacola. lafitte refused the tempting bait, and two days later sent the following letter to governor claiborne of the state of louisiana: barrataria, sept. th. . "_sir:_ "in the firm persuasion that the choice made of you to fill the office of first magistrate of this state, was dictated by the esteem of your fellow citizens, and was conferred on merit, i confidently address you on an affair on which may depend the safety of this country. i offer to restore to this state several citizens who perhaps in your eyes have lost that sacred title. i offer you them, however, such as you could wish to find them, ready to exert their utmost efforts in defense of the country. this point of louisiana which i occupy is of great importance in the present crisis. i tender my services to defend it; and the only reward i ask is that a stop be put to the proscription against me and my adherents, by an act of oblivion, for all that has been done hitherto. i am the stray sheep wishing to return to the fold. if you are thoroughly acquainted with the nature of my offenses, i shall appear to you much less guilty, and still worthy to discharge the duties of a good citizen. i have never sailed under any flag but that of the republic of carthagena, and my vessels are perfectly regular in that respect. if i could have brought my lawful prizes into the ports of this state, i should not have employed the illicit means that have caused me to be proscribed. i decline saying more on the subject, until i have the honor of your excellency's answer, which i am persuaded can be dictated only by wisdom. should your answer not be favorable to my desires, i declare to you that i will instantly leave the country, to avoid the imputation of having coöperated towards an invasion of this point, which cannot fail to take place, and to rest secure in the acquittal of my conscience. "i have the honor to be "your excellency's, etc. "j. lafitte." this highly commendable document so favorably impressed governor claiborne that he offered lafitte safe conduct to come to new orleans and meet general andrew jackson. after a conference of this trio, the following order was issued: "the governor of louisiana, being informed that many individuals implicated in the offenses heretofore committed against the united states at barrataria, express a willingness at the present crisis to enroll themselves and march against the enemy: "he does hereby invite them to join the standard of the united states and is authorized to say, should their conduct in the field meet the approbation of the major general, that that officer will unite with the governor in a request to the president of the united states, to extend to each and every individual so marching and acting, a free and full pardon." at the battle of new orleans, on january th, , lafitte and his lieutenant, dominique, commanded a large force of what jackson called the "corsairs of barrataria," and defended their breastworks and served their batteries with such desperate gallantry that they nobly earned the promised pardons. these were granted by president james madison on february th, and he took occasion to say: "but it has since been represented that the offenders have manifested a sincere repentance; that they have abandoned the prosecution of the worst cause for the support of the best, and particularly, that they have exhibited in the defense of new orleans, unequivocal traits of courage and fidelity. offenders, who have refused to become the associates of the enemy in the war, upon the most seductive terms of invitation; and who have aided to repel his hostile invasion of the territory of the united states, can no longer be considered as objects of punishment, but as objects of a generous forgiveness." the foregoing evidence is ample to prove that lafitte had no occasion to bury any of his treasure, but like kidd along the new england coast, legend has been busy with his name and is blind to the facts of record. he later made a settlement on the island of galveston and his history becomes obscured. one version is that the love of the old trade was in his blood, and he fitted out a large privateer to have a farewell fling with fortune. a british sloop-of-war overhauled him in the gulf of mexico, hailed him as a pirate, and opened fire. the engagement was terrifically hot, and jean lafitte was killed at the head of his men while resisting a boarding party. take next the case of that noted pirate captain avery "whose adventures were the subject of general conversation in europe." he captured one of the great mogul's ships laden with treasure; it was reported that he had wedded a daughter of that magnificent ruler and was about to found a new monarchy; that he gave commissions in his own name to the captains of his ships and the commanders of his forces and was acknowledged by them as their prince. with sixteen stout fellows of his own kidney, he ran off with a ship in which he had sailed from england as mate, and steered for madagascar in the year . "the pirates' own book" tells the story of captain avery, his treasure, and the melancholy fate of both, and the author is, as a rule, such a well-informed historian of these matters, that he should be allowed to set it forth in his own words, which are framed in a style admirably befitting the theme. "near the river indus the man at the mast-head espied a sail upon which they gave chase; as they came nearer to her they discovered that she was a tall vessel, and might turn out to be an east indiaman. she, however, proved a better prize; for when they fired at her, she hoisted mogul colors, and seemed to stand upon her defense. avery only cannonaded at a distance, when some of the men began to suspect he was not the hero they had supposed. his sloops, however, attacked, the one on the bow, and another upon the quarter of the ship, and so boarded her. she then struck her colors. she was one of the great mogul's own ships, and there were in her several of the greatest persons in his court, among whom, it was said, was one of his daughters going upon a pilgrimage to mecca; and they were carrying with them rich offerings to present at the shrine of mahomet. it is a well-known fact that the people of the east travel with great magnificence, so that these had along with them all their slaves and attendants, with a large quantity of vessels of gold and silver, and immense sums of money to defray their expenses by land. the spoil, therefore, which they received from that ship was almost incalculable. "our adventurers made the best of their way back to madagascar, intending to make that place the deposit of all their treasure, to build a small fort, and to keep always a few men there for its protection. avery, however, disconcerted this plan, and rendered it altogether unnecessary. while steering their course, he sent a boat to each of the sloops, requesting that the chiefs would come on board his ship to hold a conference. he suggested to them the necessity of securing the property which they had acquired, and observed that the main difficulty was to get it safe on shore; adding that if either of the sloops should be attacked alone, they would not be able to make any great resistance. that, for his part, his ship was so strong, so well manned, and such a swift-sailing vessel, that he did not think it possible for any other ship to take or overcome her. accordingly, he proposed that all their treasure should be sealed up in three chests,--that each of the captains should have a key, and that they should not be opened until all were present;--that the chests should be then put on board his ship and afterwards lodged in some safe place on land. "this proposal seemed so reasonable, and so much for the common good that it was agreed to without hesitation, and all the treasure was deposited in three chests and carried to avery's ship. the weather being favorable, they remained all three in company during that and the next day; meanwhile avery, tampering with his men, suggested that they had now on board what was sufficient to make them all happy; 'and what,' continued he, 'should hinder us from going to some country where we are not known, and living on shore all the rest of our days in plenty!' they soon understood his hint, and all readily consented to deceive the men of the sloops, and fly with all the booty. this they effected during the darkness of the following night. the reader may easily conjecture what were the feelings and indignation of the other two crews in the morning when they discovered that avery had made off with all their property. "avery and his men hastened towards america, and being strangers in that country, agreed to divide the booty, to change their names, and each separately to take up his residence and live in affluence and honor.... avery had been careful to conceal the greater part of the jewels and other valuable articles, so that his own riches were immense. arriving at boston, he was almost resolved to settle there, but as the greater part of his wealth consisted of diamonds, he was apprehensive that he could not dispose of them at that place, without being taken up as a pirate. upon reflection, therefore, he resolved to sail for ireland, and in a short time arrived in the northern part of that kingdom, and his men dispersed into several places. some of them obtained the pardon of king william and settled in that country. "the wealth of avery, however, now proved of small service and occasioned him great uneasiness. he could not offer his diamonds for sale in that country without being suspected. considering, therefore, what was best to be done, he thought there might be some person in bristol he could venture to trust. upon this he resolved, and going to devonshire, sent to one of his friends to meet him at a town called bideford. when he had unbosomed himself to him and other pretended friends, they agreed that the safest plan was to put his effects in the hands of some wealthy merchants, and no inquiry would be made how they came by them. "one of these friends told him he was acquainted with some who were very fit for the purpose, and if he would allow them a handsome commission, they would do the business faithfully. avery liked the proposal, particularly as he could think of no other way of managing this matter, since he could not appear to act for himself. accordingly, the merchants paid avery a visit at bideford, where after strong protestations of honor and integrity, he delivered them his effects, consisting of diamonds and some vessels of gold. after giving him a little money for his present subsistence, they departed. "he changed his name and lived quietly at bideford, so that no notice was taken of him. in a short time his money was all spent, and he heard nothing from his merchants though he wrote to them repeatedly. at last they sent him a small supply, but it was not sufficient to pay his debts. in short, the remittances they sent him were so trifling that he could with difficulty exist. he therefore determined to go privately to bristol, and have an interview with the merchants himself,--where instead of money, he met with a mortifying repulse. for when he desired them to come to an account with him, they silenced him by threatening to disclose his character; the merchants thus proving themselves as good pirates on land as he was at sea. "whether he was frightened by these menaces, or had seen some other person who recognized him, is not known. however, he went immediately to ireland, and from thence solicited his merchants very strongly for a supply, but to no purpose; so that he was reduced to beggary. in this extremity he was determined to return and cast himself upon the mercy of these honest bristol merchants, let the consequence be what it would. he went on board a trading vessel, and worked his passage over to plymouth, from whence he traveled on foot to bideford. he had been there but a few days when he fell sick and died; not being worth so much as would buy a coffin." that very atrocious pirate, charles gibbs, squandered most of his treasure, but it may be some consolation to know that $ , of it, in silver coin, was buried on the beach of long island, a few miles from southampton, as attested by the records of the united states court of the southern district of new york. captain gibbs was a thoroughly bad egg, from first to last, and quite modern, it is interesting to note, for he was hanged as recently as . he was born in rhode island, raised on a farm, and ran away to sea in the navy. it is to his credit that he is said to have served on board the _chesapeake_ in her famous battle with the _shannon_, but after his release from dartmoor as a british prisoner of war, he fell from grace and opened a grogery in ann street, called the tin pot, "a place full of abandoned women and dissolute fellows." he drank up all the profits, so went to sea again and found a berth in a south american privateer. leading a mutiny, he gained the ship and made a pirate of her, frequenting havana, and plundering merchant vessels along the cuban coast. he slaughtered their crews in cold blood and earned an infamous reputation for cruelty. in his confession written while he was under sentence of death in new york, he stated "that some time in the course of the year , he left havana and came to the united states, bringing with him about $ , in gold. he passed several weeks in the city of new york, and then went to boston, whence he took passage for liverpool in the ship _emerald_. before he sailed, however, he had squandered a large amount of his money by dissipation and gambling. he remained in liverpool a few months, and then returned to boston. his residence in liverpool at that time is satisfactorily ascertained from another source beside his own confession. a female now in new york was well acquainted with him there, where, she says, he lived like a gentleman, apparently with abundant means of support. in speaking of his acquaintance with this female, he says, 'i fell in with a woman who i thought was all virtue, but she deceived me, and i am sorry to say that a heart that never felt abashed at scenes of carnage and blood, was made a child of for a time by her, and i gave way to dissipation to drown the torment. how often when the fumes of liquor have subsided have i thought of my good and affectionate parents, and of their godlike advice! my friends advised me to behave myself like a man, and promised me their assistance, but the demon still haunted me, and i spurned their advice.'"[ ] after the adventure with the deceitful female, gibbs was not as successful as formerly in his profession of piracy, and appears to have lost his grip. for several years he knocked about the seven seas, in one sort of shady escapade or another, but he flung away whatever gold he harvested and was driven to commit the sordid crime which brought him to the gallows. in november of , he shipped as a seaman in the brig _vineyard_, captain william thornby, from new orleans to philadelphia with a cargo of cotton and molasses, and $ , in specie. learning of the money on board, gibbs cooked up a conspiracy to kill the captain and the mate and persuaded thomas wansley, the steward, to help him put them out of the way. according to the testimony, others of the crew were implicated, but the court convicted only these two. the sworn statement of seaman robert dawes is as red-handed a treasure story as could be imagined: "when about five days out, i was told that there was money on board. charles gibbs, e. church, and the steward then determined to take possession of the brig. they asked james talbot, another member of the crew, to join them. he said no, as he did not believe there was money in the vessel. they concluded to kill the captain and mate, and if talbot and john brownrigg would not join them, to kill them also. the next night they talked of doing it, and got their clubs ready. i dared not say a word, as they declared they would kill me if i did. as they did not agree about killing talbot and brownrigg, their two shipmates, it was put off. they next concluded to kill the captain and mate on the night of november nd but did not get ready; but on the night of the rd, between twelve and one o 'clock, when i was at the helm, the steward came up with a light and a knife in his hand. he dropped the light and seizing the pump-break, struck the captain with it over the head or back of the neck. the captain was sent forward by the blow and halloed, 'oh' and 'murder' once. "he was then seized by gibbs and the cook, one by the head and the other by the heels and thrown overboard. atwell and church stood at the companion way, to strike down the mate when he should come up. as he came up and enquired what was the matter, they struck him over the head,--he ran back into the cabin, and charles gibbs followed him down; but as it was dark, he could not find him. gibbs then came on deck for the light with which he returned below. i left the helm to see what was going on in the cabin. gibbs found the mate and seized him, while atwell and church came down and struck him with a pump break and club. "the mate was then dragged upon deck. they called for me to help them and as i came up, the mate seized my hand and gave me a death grip. three of them hove him overboard, but which three i do not know. the mate was not dead when cast overboard, but called after us twice while in the water. i was so frightened that i hardly knew what to do. they then asked me to call talbot, who was in the forecastle saying his prayers. he came up and said it would be his turn next, but they gave him some grog and told him not to be afraid, as they would not hurt him. if he was true to them, he should fare as well as they did. one of those who had been engaged in the bloody deed got drunk and another became crazy. "after killing the captain and mate they set about overhauling the vessel, and got up one keg of mexican dollars. then they divided the captain's clothes and money,--about forty dollars and a gold watch. talbot, brownrigg and i, who were all innocent men, were obliged to do as we were commanded. i was sent to the helm and ordered to steer for long island. on the day following, they divided several kegs of the specie, amounting to five thousand dollars each, and made bags and sewed the money up. after this division, they divided the rest of the money without counting it. "on sunday, when about fifteen miles s.s.e. of southampton light, they got the boats out and put half the money in each, and then they scuttled the vessel and set fire to it in the cabin, and took to the boats. gibbs, after the murder, took charge of the vessel as captain. from the papers on board, we learned that the money belonged to stephen girard.[ ] "with the boats we made the land about daylight. i was in the long-boat with three others. the rest with atwell were in the jolly-boat. on coming to the bar the boats stuck, and we threw overboard a great deal of money, in all about five thousand dollars. the jolly-boat foundered. we saw it fill and heard them cry out, and saw them clinging to the masts. we went ashore on barron island, and buried the money in the sand, but very lightly. soon after, we met with a gunner, whom we requested to conduct us where we could get some refreshments. they were by him conducted to johnson's (the only man living on the island) where we stayed all night. i went to bed about ten o'clock. jack brownrigg sat up with johnson, and in the morning told me that he had told johnson all about the murders. johnson went in the morning with the steward for the clothes, which were left on the top of the place where they buried the money, but i don't believe they took away the money." here was genuine buried treasure, but the circumstances were such as to make the once terrible captain charles gibbs cut a wretched figure. to the ignominious crime of killing the captain and the mate of a little trading brig had descended this freebooter of renown who had numbered his prizes by the score and boasted of slaying their crews wholesale. as for the specie looted from the brig _vineyard_, half the amount was lost in the surf when the jolly-boat foundered, and the remainder buried where doubtless that hospitable resident, johnson, was able to find most of it. silver dollars were too heavy to be carried away in bulk by stranded pirates, fleeing the law, and these rascals got no good of their plunder. ====================================================================== [illustration: gibbs and wansley burying the treasure.] the portugese captain cutting away the bag of moidores. (_from the pirates' own book._) ====================================================================== glance at the sin-stained roster of famous pirates, edward low, captain england, captain thomas white, benito de soto, captain roberts, captain john rackham, captain thomas tew, and most of the bloody crew, and it will be found that either they wasted their treasure in debaucheries, or were hanged, shot, or drowned with empty pockets. of them all, blackbeard[ ] fills the eye most struttingly as the proper pirate to have buried treasure. he was immensely theatrical, fond of playing the part right up to the hilt, and we may rest assured that unless his sudden taking-off prevented, he was at pains to bury at least one sea-chest full of treasure in order to live up to the best traditions of his calling. he was prosperous, and unlike most of his lesser brethren, suffered no low tides of fortune. by rights, he should be a far more famous character than captain william kidd whose commonplace career was so signally devoid of purple patches. blackbeard was a pirate "right out of a book," as the saying is. how this captain edward teach swaggered through the streets of charleston and terrorized the carolinas and bermuda is an old story, as is also the thrilling narrative of his capture, after a desperate battle, by brave lieutenant maynard, who hung the pirate's head from his bowsprit and sailed home in triumph. there are touches here and there, however, in the authentic biography of blackbeard which seem to belong in a discussion of buried treasure, for he was so very much the kind of flamboyant rogue that legend paints as infernally busy with pick and shovel on dark and lonely beaches. blackbeard is the hero of such extremely diverting tales as these, which sundry writers have not scrupled to appropriate, either for purposes of fiction or unblushingly to fit them to poor captain kidd as chronicles of fact: "in the commonwealth of pirates, he who goes the greatest length of wickedness is looked upon with a kind of envy amongst them, as a person of a most extraordinary gallantry. he is therefore entitled to be distinguished by some post, and if such a one has but courage, he must certainly be a great man. the hero of whom we are writing was thoroughly accomplished in this way, and some of his frolics of wickedness were as extravagant as if he aimed at making his men believe he was a devil incarnate. being one day, at sea, and a little flushed with drink; 'come,' said he, 'let us make a hell of our own, and try how long we can bear it.' accordingly he, with two or three others, went down into the hold, and closing up all the hatches, filled several pots full of brimstone, and other combustible matter. they then set it on fire, and so continued till they were almost suffocated, when some of the men cried out for air. at length he opened the hatches, not a little pleased that he had held out the longest. "one night, blackbeard, drinking in his cabin with israel hands,[ ] and the pilot, and another man, without any pretense took a small pair of pistols, and cocked them under the table. which being perceived by the man, he went on deck, leaving the captain, hands, and the pilot together. when his pistols were prepared, he extinguished the candle, crossed his arms and fired at the company, under the table. the one pistol did no execution, but the other wounded hands in the knee. interrogated concerning the meaning of this, he answered with an imprecation, 'that if he did not now and then kill one of them, they would forget who he was.'" "in blackbeard's journal, which was taken, there were several memoranda of the following nature, all written with his own hand.--'such a day, rum all out;--our company somewhat sober;--a damned confusion amongst us! rogues a-plotting;--great talk of separation;--so i looked sharp for a prize; such a day took one with a great deal of liquor on board; so kept the company hot, damned hot, then all things went well again.'" "blackbeard derived his name from his long black beard, which, like a frightful meteor, covered his whole face, and terrified all america more than any comet that has ever appeared. he was accustomed to twist it with ribbon in small quantities, and turn them about his ears. in time of action he wore a sling over his shoulder with three braces of pistols. he stuck lighted matches under his hat, which appearing on both sides of his face and eyes, naturally fierce and wild, made him such a figure that the human imagination cannot form a conception of a fury more terrible and alarming."[ ] in the best account of his melodramatic exit from the life which he had adorned with so much distinction, there is a reference to buried treasure that must be set down as a classic of its kind. "upon the th of november, , lieutenant maynard left james's river in quest of blackbeard, and on the evening of the st came in sight of the pirate. this expedition was fitted out with all possible secrecy, no boat being permitted to pass that might convey any intelligence, while care was taken to discover where the pirates were lurking.... the hardened and infatuated pirate, having been often deceived by false intelligence, was the less attentive, nor was he convinced of his danger until he saw the sloops sent to apprehend him. though he had then only twenty men on board, he prepared to give battle. lieutenant maynard arrived with his sloops in the evening and anchored, as he could not venture, under cloud of night, to go into the place where blackbeard lay. "the latter spent the night in drinking with the master of a trading vessel, with the same indifference as if no danger had been near. nay, such was the desperate wickedness of this villain, that, it is reported, during the carousals of that night, one of his men asked him, 'in case anything should happen to him during the engagement with the two sloops which were waiting to attack him in the morning, whether his wife knew where he had buried his money!' to this he impiously replied, 'that nobody but himself and the devil knew where it was, and the longest liver should take all.' ====================================================================== [illustration: interview between lafitte, general andrew jackson, and governor claiborne.] the death of black beard. (_from the pirates' own book._) ====================================================================== "in the morning maynard weighed, and sent his boat to take soundings, which, coming near the pirate, received her fire. maynard then hoisted royal colors, and directly toward blackbeard with every sail and oar. in a little while the pirate ran aground, and so did the king's vessels. maynard lightened his vessel of the ballast and water and made towards blackbeard. upon this, the pirate hailed in his own rude style. 'damn you for villains, who are you, and from whence come you?' the lieutenant answered, 'you may see from our colors we are no pirates.' blackbeard bade him send his boat on board, that he might see who he was. but maynard replied, 'i cannot spare my boat, but i will come on board of you as soon as i can with my sloop.' upon this blackbeard took a glass of liquor and drank to him, saying, 'i'll give no quarter nor take any from you.' maynard replied, 'he expected no quarter from him, nor should he take any.'"[ ] it is to be presumed that the devil fell heir to blackbeard's treasure, inasmuch as lieutenant maynard and his men fairly cut the pirate and his crew to pieces. turn we now from such marauders as this to that greater generation of buccaneers, so called, who harried the spanish treasure fleets and towns in the west indies and on the coasts of the isthmus and south and central america. during the period when port royal, jamaica, was the headquarters and recruiting station for these picturesque cut-throats, and sir henry morgan was their bright, particular star, there is the testimony of an eye-witness and participant to show that the blood-stained gold seldom tarried long enough with its owners to permit of burying it, and that they bothered their wicked heads very little about safeguarding the future. captain bartholomew roberts, that "tall, black man, nearly forty years old, whose favorite toast was 'damnation to him who ever lives to wear a halter,'" was snuffed out in an action with a king's ship, and the manner of his life and melodramatic quality of his death suggest that he be mentioned herein as worthy of a place beside blackbeard himself. roberts has been overlooked by buried treasure legend, and this is odd, for he was a figure to inspire such tales. his flamboyant career opened in and was successful until the british man-of-war _swallow_ overhauled him on the african coast. his biographer, captain charles johnson, writing while the episode was less than a decade old and when the facts were readily obtainable, left us this fine picture of the fight: "roberts himself made a gallant figure at the time of the engagement, being dressed in a rich crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, a red feather in his hat, a gold chain round his neck, with a diamond cross hanging to it, a sword in his hand, and two pair of pistols hanging at the end of a silk sling flung over his shoulder (according to the fashion of the pirates). he is said to have given his orders with boldness and spirit; coming, according to what he had purposed, close to the man of war, received her fire, and then hoisted his black flag[ ] and returned it; shooting away from her with all the sail he could pack.... but keeping his tacks down, either by the wind's shifting or ill steerage, or both, he was taken aback with his sails, and the _swallow_ came a second time very nigh to him. he had now perhaps finished the fight very desperately if death, who took a swift passage in a grapeshot, had not interposed and struck him directly on the throat. "he settled himself on the tackles of a gun, which one stephenson from the helm, observing, ran to his assistance, and not perceiving him wounded, swore at him and bid him stand up like a man. but when he found his mistake, and that captain roberts was certainly dead, he gushed into tears and wished the next shot might be his lot. they presently threw him overboard, with his arms and ornaments on, according to the repeated requests he had made in his life." there was no treasure for the stout-hearted scoundrels who were captured by the _swallow_. they had diced with fortune and lost, and execution dock was waiting for them, but they are worth a passing acquaintance and it gives one a certain satisfaction to learn that "they were impudently merry, saying when they viewed their nakedness, 'that they had not one half penny left to give old charon to ferry them over the styx,' and at their thin commons they would observe that they fell away so fast that they should not have weight enough to hang them. sutton used to be very profane, and he happening to be in the same irons with another prisoner who was more serious than ordinary and read and prayed often, as became his condition, this man sutton used to swear and ask him, 'what he proposed by so much noise and devotion?' 'heaven, i hope,' says the other. 'heaven, you fool,' says sutton, 'did you ever hear of any pirate going thither? give me hell. it is a merrier place. i'll give roberts a salute of thirteen guns at entrance.'" after morgan had sacked the rich city of porto bello, john esquemeling wrote of the expedition:[ ] "with these (ships) he arrived in a few days at the island of cuba, where he sought out a place wherein with all quiet and repose he might make the dividend of the spoil they had got. they found in ready money two hundred and fifty thousand pieces of eight, besides all other merchandises, as cloth, linen, silks, and other goods. with this rich booty they sailed again thence to their common place of rendezvous, jamaica. being arrived, they passed here some time in all sorts of vices and debauchery, according to their common manner of doing, spending with huge prodigality what others had gained with no small labor and toil." "... such of these pirates are found who will spend two or three thousand pieces of eight in one night, not leaving themselves, peradventure, a good shirt to wear on their backs in the morning. my own master would buy, on like occasions, a whole pipe of wine, and placing it in the street, would force everyone that passed by to drink with him; threatening also to pistol them in case they would not do it. at other times, he would do the same with barrels of ale or beer. and, very often, with both his hands, he would throw these liquors about the streets and wet the clothes of such as walked by, without regarding whether he spoiled their apparel or not, were they men or women. "among themselves, and to each other, these pirates are extremely liberal and free. if any one of them has lost his goods, which often happens in their manner of life, they freely give him, and make him partaker of what they have. in taverns and ale-houses they always have great credit; but in such houses at jamaica they ought not to run very deep in debt, seeing the inhabitants of that island easily sell one another for debt. thus it happened to my patron, or master, to be sold for a debt of a tavern wherein he had spent the greater part of his money. this man had, within the space of three months before, three thousand pieces of eight in ready cash, all which he wasted in that short space of time, and became as poor as i have told you." the same free-handed and lurid manner of life prevailed on the little island of tortuga, off the coast of hayti, where the french and english buccaneers had a lawless kingdom of their own. in his account of the career of the infamous l'ollonais, esquemeling goes on to say: "departing therefore thence, they took their course towards the island hispaniola, and arrived thither in eight days, casting anchor in a port called isla de la vaca, or cow island. this isle is inhabited by french buccaneers[ ] who most commonly sell the flesh they hunt to pirates and others who now and then put in there with intent of victualing or trading with them. here they unladed the whole cargo of riches which they had robbed; the usual storehouse of the pirates being commonly under the shelter of the buccaneers. here also they made a dividend amongst them of all of their prizes and gains, according to that order and degree which belonged to everyone. having cast up the account and made exact calculation of all they had purchased, they found in ready money two hundred and three-score thousand pieces of eight. whereupon, this being divided, everyone received to his share in money, and also in pieces of silk, linen and other commodities, the value of above hundred pieces of eight. those who had been wounded in this expedition received their part before all the rest; i mean such recompenses as i spoke of the first book, for the loss of their limbs which many sustained.[ ] "afterwards they weighed all the plate that was uncoined, reckoning after the rate of ten pieces of eight for every pound. the jewels were prized with much variety, either at too high or too low rates; being thus occasioned by their own ignorance. this being done, everyone was put to his oath again, that he had not concealed anything nor subtracted from the common stock. hence they proceeded to the dividend of what shares belonged to such as were dead amongst them, either in battle or otherwise. these shares were given to their friends to be kept entire for them, and to be delivered in due time to their nearest relatives, or whomsoever should appear to be their lawful heirs. "the whole dividend being entirely finished, they set sail thence for the isle of tortuga. here they arrived one month after, to the great joy of most that were upon the island. for as to the common pirates, in three weeks they had scarce any money left them; having spent it all in things of little value, or at play either at cards or dice. here also arrived, not long before them, two french ships laden with wine and brandy and other things of this kind; whereby these liquors, at the arrival of the pirates, were sold indifferent cheap. but this lasted not long; for soon after they were enhanced extremely, a gallon of brandy being sold for four pieces of eight. the governor of the island bought of the pirates the whole cargo of the ship laden with cacao, giving them for that rich commodity scarce the twentieth part of what it was worth. thus they made shift to lose and spend the riches they had got in much less time than they were purchased by robbing. the taverns, according to the custom of pirates, got the greatest part thereof; insomuch that soon after they were constrained to seek more by the same unlawful means they had obtained the preceding." morgan himself buried none of his vast treasure, although legend persists in saying so, nor did he waste it in riotous living. from the looting of panama alone he took booty to the value of two million dollars as his share, and he had no need to hide it. he was thought so well of in england that charles ii knighted him, and he was appointed commissary of the admiralty. for some time he lived in england, published his _voyage to panama_ in , and spent his remaining years in jamaica as an opulent and influential person in high favor with the ruling powers, and a terror to the luckless, beggared comrades who had helped him win his fortune. as governor of the island he hanged as many as he could lay hands on, a kind of ingratitude not at all inconsistent with the traits of character he had displayed as a pirate. he did not hesitate to rob his own men, according to esquemeling from whose narrative of the great expedition against panama the following paragraphs are taken as indicative of the methods of this great freebooter of the spanish main: "not long after captain morgan arrived at jamaica, he found many of his chief officers and soldiers reduced to their former state of indigence through their immoderate vices and debauchery. hence they ceased not to importune him for new invasions and exploits, thereby to get something to expend anew in wine, as they had already wasted what was secured so little before. captain morgan being willing to follow fortune while she called him, hereupon stopped the mouths of many of the inhabitants of jamaica, who were creditors to his men for large sums of money, with the hopes and promises he gave them of greater achievements than ever, by a new expedition he was going about. this being done, he needed not give himself much concern to levy men for this or any other enterprise, his name being now so famous through all those islands that that alone would readily bring him in more men than he could readily employ. he undertook therefore to equip a new fleet of ships; for which purpose he assigned the south side of the isle of tortuga as a place of rendezvous. with this resolution he wrote divers letters to all the ancient and expert pirates there inhabiting, as also to the governor of the said isle, and to the planters and hunters of hispaniola, giving them to understand his intentions, and desiring their appearance at the said place, in case they intended to go with him. all these people had no sooner understood his designs than they flocked to the place assigned in huge numbers, with ships, canoes, and boats, being desirous to obey his commands.... thus all were present at the place assigned, and in readiness, against the th day of october, ." special articles of agreement for the division of the treasure of panama were drawn up by morgan before his fleet sailed. "herein it was stipulated that he should have the hundredth part of all that was gotten to himself alone: that every captain should draw the shares of eight men, for the expenses of his ship, besides his own: that the surgeon, besides his ordinary pay, should have two hundred pieces of eight, for his chest of medicine: and every carpenter, above his common salary, should draw one hundred pieces of eight. lastly, unto him that in any battle should signalize himself, either by entering the first any castle, or taking down the spanish colors and setting up the english, they constituted fifty pieces of eight for a reward. in the head of these articles it was stipulated that all these extraordinary salaries, recompenses and rewards should be paid out of the first spoil or purchase they should take, according as every one should then occur to be either rewarded or paid." the expedition was a gorgeous success, for "on the th of february, of the year , captain morgan departed from the city of panama, or rather from the place where the said city of panama had stood; of the spoils whereof he carried with him one hundred and seventy-five beasts of carriage, laden with silver, gold and other precious things, besides six hundred prisoners, more or less, between men, women, children and slaves.... about the middle of the way to the castle of chagre, captain morgan commanded his men to be placed in due order, according to their custom, and caused every one to be sworn that they had reserved nor concealed nothing privately to themselves, even not so much as the value of sixpence. this being done, captain morgan, having had some experience that those lewd fellows would not much stickle to swear falsely in points of interest, he commanded every one to be searched very strictly both in their clothes and satchels and everywhere it might be presumed they had reserved anything. yea, to the intent this order might not be ill taken by his companions, he permitted himself to be searched, even to the very soles of his shoes. to this office, by common consent, there was assigned one out of every company to be the searcher of all the rest. the french pirates that went on this expedition with captain morgan were not well satisfied with this new custom of searching. "from chagre, captain morgan sent presently after his arrival a great boat to porto bello, wherein were all the prisoners he had taken at the isle of st. catharine, demanding by them a considerable ransom for the castle of chagre, where he then was, threatening otherwise to ruin and demolish it even to the ground. to this message those of porto bello made answer: that they would not give one farthing towards the ransom of the said castle, and that the english might do with it as they pleased. the answer being come, the dividend was made of all the spoil they had purchased in that voyage. thus every company and every particular person therein included, received their portion of what was got; or rather, what part thereof captain morgan was pleased to give them. for so it was, that the rest of his companions, even of his own nation, complained of his proceedings in this particular, and feared not to tell him openly to his face that he had reserved the best jewels to himself. for they judged it impossible that no greater share should belong to them than two hundred pieces of eight per capita, of so many valuable booties and robberies as they had obtained. which small sum they thought too little reward for so much labor and such huge and manifest dangers as they had so often exposed their lives to. but captain morgan was deaf to all these and many other complaints of this kind, having designed in his mind to cheat them of as much as he could. "at last, captain morgan finding himself obnoxious to many obloquies and detractions among his people, began to fear the consequences thereof, and hereupon thinking it unsafe to remain any longer time at chagre, he commanded the ordnance of the said castle to be carried on board his ship. afterwards he caused the greatest part of the walls to be demolished, and the edifices to be burnt, and as many other things spoiled and ruined as could conveniently be done in a short while. these orders being performed, he went secretly on board his own ship, without giving any notice of his departure to his companions, nor calling any council, as he used to do. thus he set sail and put out to sea, not bidding anybody adieu, being only followed by three or four vessels of the whole fleet. "these were such (as the french pirates believed) as went shares with captain morgan, towards the best and greatest part of the spoil which had been concealed from them in the dividend. the frenchmen could very willingly have revenged this affront upon captain morgan and those that followed him, had they found themselves with sufficient means to encounter him at sea. but they were destitute of most things necessary thereto. yea, they had much ado to find sufficient victuals and provisions for their voyage to panama, he having left them totally unprovided of all things." esquemeling's commentary on this base conduct of the leader is surprisingly pious: "captain morgan left us all in such a miserable condition as might serve for a lively representation of what reward attends wickedness at the latter end of life. whence we ought to have learned how to regulate and amend our actions for the future." sir francis drake, "sea king of the sixteenth century," the greatest admiral of the time, belongs not with the catalogue of pirates and buccaneers, yet he left a true tale of buried treasure among his exploits and it is highly probable that some of that rich plunder is hidden to-day in the steaming jungle of the road he took to panama. there were only forty-eight englishmen in the band which he led on the famous raid to ambush the spanish treasure train bound to nombre-de-dios, a century before morgan's raiders crossed the isthmus. this first attempt resulted in failure, but after sundry adventures, drake returned and hid his little force close by that famous treasure port of nombre-de-dios, where they waited to hear the bells of the pack-mule caravan moving along the trail from panama. it was at dawn when this distant, tinkling music was first heard, and the cimaroons, or indian guides, were jubilant. "now they assured us we should have more gold and silver than all of us could bear away." soon the englishmen had glimpses of three royal treasure trains plodding along the leafy road, one of fifty mules, the others of seventy each, and every one of them laden with three hundred pounds weight of silver bullion, or thirty tons in all. the guard of forty-five spanish soldiers loafed carelessly in front and rear, their guns slung on their backs. drake and his bold seamen poured down from a hill, put the guard to flight, and captured the caravan with the loss of only two men. there was more plunder than they could carry back to their ships in a hasty retreat, and "being weary, they were content with a few bars and quoits of gold." the silver was buried in the expectation of returning for it later, "partly in the burrows which the great land-crabs have made in the earth, and partly under old trees which are fallen thereabouts, and partly in the sand and gravel of a river not very deep of water." then began a forced march, every man burdened with all the treasure he could carry, and behind them the noise of "both horse and foot coming, as it seemed, to the mules." presently a wounded french captain became so exhausted that he had to drop out, refusing to delay the march and telling the company that he would remain behind in the woods with two of his men, "in hope that some rest would recover his better strength." ere long another frenchman was missed, and investigation discovered that he had "drunk much wine," and doubtless desired to sleep it off. reaching rio francisco, drake was dismayed to find his pinnaces gone, and his party stranded. the vessels were recovered after delay and perilous adventure, whereupon drake hastened to prepare another expedition "to get intelligence in what case the country stood, and if might be, recover monsieur tetu, the french captain, and leastwise bring away the buried silver." the party was just about to start inland when on the beach appeared one of the two men who had stayed behind with the french captain. at sight of drake he "fell down on his knees, blessing god for the time that ever our captain was born, who now beyond all his hope, was become his deliverer." he related that soon after they had been left behind in the forest, the spaniards had captured captain tetu and the other man. he himself had escaped by throwing down his treasure and taking to his heels. concerning the buried silver, he had lamentable tidings to impart. the spanish had got wind of it, and he "thought there had been near two thousand spaniards and negroes there to dig and search for it." however, the expedition pushed forward, and the news was confirmed. "the earth every way a mile distant had been digged and turned up in every place of any likelihood to have anything hidden in it." it was learned that the general location of the silver had been divulged to the spaniards by that rascally frenchman who had got drunk and deserted during the march to the coast. he had been caught while asleep, and the soldiers from nombre-de-dios tortured him until he told all that he knew about the treasure. the englishmen poked around and quickly found "thirteen bars of silver and some few quoits of gold," with which they posted back to rio francisco, not daring to linger in the neighborhood of an overwhelming force of the enemy. it was their belief that the spanish recovered by no means all of those precious tons of silver bullion, and drake made sail very reluctantly. it may well be that a handsome hoard still awaits the search of some modern argonauts, or that the steam shovels of the workmen of the panama canal may sometime swing aloft a burden of "bars of silver and quoits of gold" in their mighty buckets. certain it is that sir francis drake is to be numbered among that romantic company of sea rovers of other days who buried vast treasure upon the spanish main. [ ] _the pirates' own book_. [ ] the famous merchant and philanthropist of philadelphia. [ ] "i happen to know the fact that blackbeard, whose family name was given as teach, was in reality named drumond, a native of bristol. i have learned this fact from one of his family and name, of respectable standing in virginia, near hampton." (watson's annals of philadelphia.) in the contemporary court records of the carolina colony, the name of blackbeard is given as thatch. [ ] israel hands was tried and condemned with blackboard's crew, but was pardoned by royal proclamation, and, according to captain johnson, "was alive some time ago in london, begging his bread." this would indicate that he had buried no treasure of his own, and had not fathomed blackbeard's secret. stevenson borrowed the name of israel hands for one of his crew of pirates in "treasure island." [ ] _the pirates' own book_. [ ] this is from _the pirates' own book_. captain johnson's version is unexpurgated and to be preferred, for he declares that blackbeard cried out, "damnation seize my soul if i give you quarter, or take any from you." [ ] as showing the fanciful tastes in sinister flags, captain johnson records that captain roberts flew "a black silk flag at the mizzen peak, and a jack and pendant at the same. the flag had a death's head on it, with an hour glass in one hand, and cross bones in the other, a dart by one, and underneath a heart dropping three drops of blood." [ ] _the buccaneers of america_. a true account of the most remarkable assaults committed of late years upon the coasts of the west indies by the buccaneers of jamaica and tortuga (both english and french). wherein are contained more especially the unparalleled exploits of sir henry morgan, our english jamaican hero who sacked porto bello, burnt panama, etc. (published in .) [ ]the buccaneers derived their name from the process of drying beef over a wood fire, or _boucane_ in french. they were at first hunters of wild cattle in the island of hispaniola or hayti who disposed of their product to smugglers, traders, and pirates, but they were a distinct class from the _filibustiers_ or sea rovers. as cattle became scarce and the spanish more hostile and cruel foes, the buccaneers, french and english, forsook their trade and took to the sea, to harry the common foe. [ ] the schedule thus referred to stipulated that for the crew, except the officers specified, it was a case of "no prey, no pay." for the loss of a right arm, the consolation money was six hundred pieces of eight, or six slaves; for the loss of a left arm, five hundred pieces of eight, or five slaves; for the left leg, four hundred pieces of eight, or four slaves; for an eye one hundred pieces of eight, or one slave; for a finger of the hand the same reward as for the eye. "all which sums of money, as i have said before, are taken out of the capital sum or common stock of what is got by their piracy." chapter xvi practical hints for treasure seekers faith, imagination, and a vigorous physique comprise the essential equipment of a treasure seeker. capital is desirable, but not absolutely necessary, for it would be hard indeed to find a neighborhood in which some legend or other of buried gold is not current. if one is unable to finance an expedition aboard a swift, black-hulled schooner, it is always possible to dig for the treasure of poor captain kidd and it is really a matter of small importance that he left no treasure in his wake. the zest of the game is in seeking. a pick and a shovel are to be obtained in the wood-shed or can be purchased at the nearest hardware store for a modest outlay. a pirate's chart is to be highly esteemed, but if the genuine article cannot be found, there are elderly seafaring men in every port who will furnish one just as good and perjure themselves as to the information thereof with all the cheerfulness in the world. it has occurred to the author that a concise directory of the best-known lost and buried treasure might be of some service to persons of an adventurous turn of mind, and the following tabloid guide for ready reference may perhaps prove helpful, particularly to parents of small boys who have designs on pirate hoards, as well as to boys who have never grown up. _cocos island_. in the pacific ocean off the coast of costa rica. twelve million dollars in plate, coin, bar gold, and jewels buried by buccaneers and by seamen who pirated the treasure of lima. _trinidad_. in the south atlantic off the coast of brazil. the vast booty of sea-rovers who plundered the richest cities of south america. a very delectable and well-authenticated treasure, indeed, with all the proper charts and appurtenances. specially recommendeded. _the salvages_. a group of small islands to the southward of madeira. two million dollars of silver in chests, buried by the crew of a spanish ship in . they killed their captain and laid him on top of the treasure, wherefore proper precautions must be taken to appease his ghost before beginning to dig. _cape st. vincent_. west coast of madagascar. the wreck of a dutch-built ship of great age is jammed fast between the rocks. gold and silver money has been washed from her and cast up on the beach, and a large fortune still remains among her timbers. expeditions are advised to fit out at mozambique. _venanguebe bay_, thirty-five miles south south-west of ngoncy island on the east coast of madagascar. a sunken treasure is supposed to be not far from the wreck of the french frigate _gloire_ lost in . expeditions will do well to keep a weather eye lifted along all this coast for the treasures of the pirates who infested these waters in the days of captain kidd. _gough island_, sometimes called diego alvarez. latitude ° ' s. longitude ° ' w. it is well known that on this unfrequented bit of sea-washed real estate, a very wicked pirate or pirates deposited ill-gotten gains. the place to dig is close to a conspicuous spire or pinnacle of stone on the western end of the island, the name of which natural landmark is set down on the charts as church rock. _juan fernandez_. south pacific. famed as the abode of robinson crusoe who was too busy writing the story of his life to find the buccaneer's wealth concealed in a cave, also the wreck of a spanish galleon reputed to have been laden with bullion from the mines of peru. _auckland islands_. remote and far to the southward and hardly to be recommended to the amateur treasure seeker who had better serve his apprenticeship nearer home. frequently visited by expeditions from melbourne and sydney. in , the sailing ship _general grant_, bound from australia to london, was lost here. in her cargo were fifty thousand ounces of gold. in a most extraordinary manner the vessel was driven by the seas into a great cavern in the cliff from which only a handful of her people managed to escape. they lived for eighteen months on this desert island before being taken off. the hulk of the _general grant_ is still within the cave, but the undertow and the great combers have thus far baffled the divers. _luzon_. one of the philippine islands. near calumpit, in the swamps of the rio grande, the chinese mandarin, chan lee suey, buried his incalculable wealth soon after the british captured manila in . his jewels were dazzling, and a string of pearls, bought from the sultan of sulu, was said to be the finest in the orient. _nightingale island_. near tristan da cunha. south atlantic. one chest of pirate's silver was found here and brought to the united states, but much more is said to remain hidden. _tobermory bay_. island of mull. western scotland. wreck of the galleon _florencia_ of the spanish armada. said to have contained thirty millions of treasure. permission to investigate must be obtained from his grace, the duke of argyll. _vigo bay_. coast of spain. spanish plate fleet sunk by the english and dutch. a trifling matter of a hundred million dollars or more are waiting for the right man to come along and fish them up. treasure seekers had better first consult the spanish government at madrid in order to avoid misunderstandings with the local officials. _east river_. manhattan island, new york. wreck of the british frigate _hussar_ which carried to the bottom, in , more than two and a half million dollars in gold consigned to the paymasters of the army and naval forces that were fighting the american forces of george washington. she was sailing for newport and struck a rock nearly opposite the upper end of randall's island, sinking one hundred yards from shore. _oak island_. nova scotia. near chester. unmistakable remains of a deep shaft sunk by pirates and an underground connection with the bay. a company is now digging, and will probably sell shares at a reasonable price. buying shares in a treasure company is less fatiguing than handling the pick and shovel oneself. _isthmus of panama_. directions somewhat vague. sir francis drake left part of the loot of old panama concealed along his line of retreat, but none of his crew was considerate enough to transmit to posterity a chart marked with the proper crosses and bearings. _dollar cove_. mount's bay, cornwall. wreck of treasure ship _saint andrew_, belonging to the king of portugal. driven out of her course from flanders to a home port in . an ancient document written by one thomas porson, an englishman on board states that "by the grace and mercy of god, the greater part of the crew got safely to land," and that, assisted by some of the inhabitants, they also saved part of the cargo including blocks of silver bullion, silver vessels and plate, precious stones, brooches and chains of gold, cloth of arras, tapestry, satins, velvets, and four sets of armor for the king of portugal. according to porson, no sooner had these treasures been carried to the top of the cliffs than three local squires with sixty armed retainers attacked the shipwrecked men and carried off the booty. modern treasure seekers disbelieve this document and prefer the statement of one of the squires concerned, st. aubyn by name, that they rode to the place to give what help they could, but the cargo of treasure could not be saved. _cape vidal_. coast of zululand. wreck of mysterious sailing vessel _dorothea_ said to have had a huge fortune in gold bricks cemented under his floor, stolen gold from the mines of the rand. in , may st, an item in the government estimates of the legislative assembly in the natal parliament was discussed under the heading, "expenditure in connection with buried gold at cape vidal, search for discovery, £ s. d." "mr. evans asked if a syndicate had been formed and what expectations the government had to give. (hear, hear.) the prime minister said there were several syndicates formed to raise the treasure. the government had reason to believe that they knew where the treasure was hidden, and started an expedition on their own account. but unfortunately they had not been able to find the treasure. mr. evans: the government was in for a bad spec. (laughter.) the item passed." space is given to the foregoing because it stamps with official authority the story of the treasure of cape vidal. when a government goes treasure hunting there must be something in it. _lake guatavita_. near bogotá. republic of colombia. the treasure of el dorado, the gilded man. to find this gold involves driving a tunnel through the side of a mountain and draining the lake. this is such a formidable undertaking that it will not appeal to the average treasure seeker unless, perchance, he might pick up a second hand tunnel somewhere at a bargain price. even then, transportation from the sea coast to bogotá is so difficult and costly that it would hardly be practicable to saw the tunnel into sections and have it carried over the mountains on mule-back. the end round the world with the boy journalists: i plotting in pirate seas francis rolt-wheeler [illustration: "not that way--two more steps, boy, and you are dead".] by francis rolt-wheeler round the world with the boy journalists plotting in pirate seas hunting hidden treasure in the andes romance-history of america in the days before columbus the quest of the western world new york: george h. doran company plotting in pirate seas by francis rolt-wheeler author of "hunting hidden treasure in the andes," "in the days before columbus," "the quest of the western world," "the aztec-hunters," "the boy with the u. s. census," etc. _illustrated by_ c. a. federer new york george h. doran company copyright, , by george h. doran company printed in the united states of america contents chapter i page american all through chapter ii where black men rule chapter iii the blood-stained citadel chapter iv the ghost of christophe chapter v the isle of the buccaneers chapter vi a cuban rebel chapter vii a nose for news chapter viii the poison trees chapter ix the hurricane chapter x the lake of pitch chapter xi the morning of doom chapter xii a corsair's death chapter xiii the hungry shark chapter xiv trapped! illustrations "not that way--two more steps, boy, and you _frontispiece_ are dead" page for a hundred feet they fell and stuart closed his eyes in sickening dizziness his vision distorted by the venom-vapor of the poison trees, the land-crabs seemed of enormous size and the negro who came to rescue him appeared as an ogre above the hoarse shouts of ruffians and jack-tars, rose teach's murderous war cry plotting in pirate seas chapter i american all through the tom-tom throbbed menacingly through the heavy dark of the haitian night. under its monotonous and maddening beat, stuart garfield moved restlessly. why had his father not come back? what mystery lay behind? often though the boy had visited the island, he had never been able to escape a sensation of fear at that summons of the devotees of voodoo. tonight, with the mysterious disappearance of his father weighing heavily on his spirits, the roll of the black goatskin drum seemed to mock him. hippolyte, the giant negro who had been their guide into this back-country jungle, rocked and grimaced in balance with the rhythm. "why are they beating that drum, hippolyte?" demanded stuart, suddenly. "tonight the night of the full moon, yes," was the answer. "always voodoo feast that night. often, queer things happen on night of full moon, yes!" stuart turned impatiently to the door, as much to get his eyes away from the hypnotic swaying of hippolyte as to resume his watch for his father. the negro's reference to "queer things" had added to the boy's uneasiness. little though stuart knew about his father's affairs, he was aware that his investigations dealt with matters of grave importance to the united states. ever since mr. garfield had resigned his position in the u. s. consular service and left the post in cuba, where he had stayed so many years, he had kept a keen eye on international movements in the west indies. mr. garfield was an ardent and flaming patriot. he believed the monroe doctrine with a conviction that nothing could shake. he regarded all the islands of the west indies as properly under the sheltering wing of the united states. he looked with unfriendly eye upon the possession of certain of the islands by england, france and holland, and especially distrusted the colonies of european powers upon south american and central american shores. stuart was even more intense in his patriotism. he had not lived in the united states since early childhood, and saw the country of the stars and stripes enhaloed by romance. though stuart had been brought up in cuba, all his tastes ran to things american. he had learned to play pelota, and was a fair player, but the rare occasions when he could get a game of baseball suited him far better. he cared nothing for books unless they dealt with the united states, and then he read with avidity. western stories fired his imagination, the more so because the life they described was so different from his own. stuart was not the type of boy always seeking a fight, but, beneath his somewhat gentle brown eyes and dark hair, there was a square aggressive chin, revealing that trait of character known as a "terrible finisher." it took a good deal to start stuart, but he was a terror, once started. any criticism of the united states was enough to get him going. his cuban schoolmates had found that out, and, whenever stuart was around, the letters "u. s." were treated with respect. this square chin was aggressively thrust forward now, as the boy looked into the night. there was trouble in the air. he felt it. deeper down than the disturbed feelings produced by the tom-tom, he sensed a prescience of evil on its way. when, therefore, a figure emerged from the forest into the clearing, and stuart saw that this figure was not his father, but that of a negro, the boy stiffened himself. "you--stuart?" the newcomer queried. "yes," replied the boy, "that's my name." the negro hardly hesitated. he walked on, though stuart was full in the doorway, jostled him aside roughly, and entered. this attitude toward the white man, unheard of anywhere else, is common in up-country haiti, where, for a century, the black man has ruled, and where the white man is hated and despised. a hard stone-like gleam came into stuart's eyes, but even his mounting rage did not blind him to the fact that the negro was twice his size and three times as muscular. nor did he forget that hippolyte was in the hut, and, in any case of trouble, the two blacks would combine against him. the negro who had pushed him aside paid no further attention to the boy, but entered into a rapid-fire conversation with hippolyte. stuart could follow the haitian french dialect quite well, but there were so many half-hidden allusions in the speech of the two men that it was easy for him to see that they were both members of some secret band. the intruder was evidently in some authority over hippolyte, for he concluded: "everything is well, yes. do with the boy, as was arranged." so saying, he cast a look at stuart, grinned evilly, and left the hut. the boy watched him until his powerful figure was lost to view in the forest. then he turned to hippolyte. "what does all this mean!" he demanded, as authoritatively as he could. for a moment hippolyte did not answer. he looked at the boy with a reflection of the same evil grin with which the other had favored the white boy. a quick choke came into the boy's throat at the change in the negro's manner. he was in hippolyte's power, and he knew it. but he showed never a quiver of fear as he faced the negro. "what does it all mean?" he repeated. "it is that you know manuel polliovo?" stuart knew the name well. his father had mentioned it as that of a conspirator who was in some way active in a west indian plot. "i have heard of him," the boy answered. "manuel--he send a message, yes. he say--tell stuart he must go away from haiti, at once. his father gone already." "what does that mean!" exclaimed stuart. the first words of the warning had frightened him, but, with the knowledge that his father was in danger, the fighting self of him rose to the surface, and his fear passed. "how?" returned the negro, not understanding. "that my father has gone already?" hippolyte shrugged his shoulders with that exaggeration of the french shrug common in the islands. "maybe manuel killed him," came the cheerful suggestion. "jules, who tell me just now, says manuel, he have the air very wicked and very pleased when he tell him." stuart doubted this possibility. ever since the american occupation of haiti, in , murder had become less common. the boy thought it more likely that the missing man had been captured and imprisoned. but just what could manuel be doing if he dared such drastic action? the lad wished that he knew a little more about his father's plans. a small revolver was in his pocket, and, for one wild moment, stuart thought of making a fight for it and going to the rescue of his father. but his better sense prevailed. even supposing he could get the drop on the negro--which was by no means sure--he could not mount guard on him perpetually. moreover, if he got near enough to try and tie him up, one sweep of those brawny arms would render him powerless. "and if i do not go?" he asked. "but you do go," declared hippolyte. "it is i who will see to that, yes!" "was it manuel who sent you the money?" "ah, the good money!" the negro showed his teeth in a wide grin. "manuel, he tell jules to find boy named stuart. if you big, tie you and take you to the forest; if little, send you away from the island." this was one point gained, thought stuart. manuel, at least, did not know what he looked like. "i suppose i've got to go to cap haitien." "but, yes." "and when?" "but now, yes!" "it's a long walk," protested stuart. "twenty miles or more." "we not walk, no! get mules near. now, we start." the boy had hoped, in some way, to get the negro out of the hut and to make a bolt for the woods where he might lie hidden, but this sudden action prevented any such ruse. he turned to the table to put into his knapsack the couple of changes of clothing he had brought. there was no way for him to take his father's clothes, but the boy opened the larger knapsack and took all the papers and documents. "see here, hippolyte," he said. "i give you all these clothes. i take the papers." the negro grinned a white-toothed smile at the gift. he cared nothing about the papers. he would do what jules had paid him to do, and no more. as they left the hut, it seemed to stuart that the nerve-racking beating of the tom-tom sounded louder and nearer. they walked a mile or so, then, as hippolyte suggested, at a small half-abandoned plantation, they found mules. once mounted, the negro set off at breakneck speed, caring nothing about the roughness of the road, all the more treacherous because of the dead-black of the shadows against the vivid green-silver patches where the tropical moonlight shone through. "what's the hurry?" clamored stuart, who could see no reason for this mad and reckless riding. "the dance stop at dawn! i want to be back, yes!" they galloped on as before. a few miles from the town, stuart snatched at an idea which flashed upon him suddenly. "hippolyte," he said. "you want to get back for the voodoo dance?" "but, yes!" "you'll be too late if you take me into town. see." he showed his watch and held out a twenty-five gourde bill. "suppose i give you this. it's all the money i have. you can tell jules to tell manuel that you saw me get on board a steamer in cap haitien, and that you saw the steamer start. then you can be back in plenty of time for the dance." hippolyte hesitated. the temptation was strong. "unless, of course," the boy added carelessly, "you like this white man, manuel, so much." an expression of primitive hate wrote itself on the ebon face, a peculiarly malignant snarl, as seen by moonlight. "i hate all whites!" he flashed. "then why should you do a good turn for this manuel?" the instincts of a simple honesty struggled with the black's desire. a passing gust of wind brought the rhythmic beating of the tom-tom clearer to their ears. it was the one call that the jungle blood of the negro could not resist. he held out his hand for the money. "you go into cap haitien alone?" he queried, thickly. "yes, i'll promise that," the boy agreed. he dismounted, swung his knapsack on his back, and handed the reins of the mule to hippolyte, who sat, still uncertain. but the negro's head was turned so that he could hear the throbbing of the drum, and, with an answering howl that went back to the days of the african jungle, he turned and sped back over the rough trail at the same headlong speed he had come. "if he doesn't break his neck!" commented stuart, as he saw him go, "it'll be a wonder!" there were yet a couple of hours before dawn, and stuart plodded along the trail, which could lead to no other place than cap haitien. he walked as fast as he could, hoping to reach the city before daylight, but the first streaks of dawn found him still nearly two miles from the town. he did not want to enter the town afoot by daylight. that would be too conspicuous, and there were plans germinating in the boy's head which needed secrecy. he must hide all day, and get into cap haitien the next night. stuart slipped off the road and wriggled his way through the dense thicket, seeking a place where there was light enough to read, and yet where the foliage was dense enough to prevent him being seen by anyone passing that way. a few moments' search only were required before he found the ideal spot, and he threw himself down on a pile of leaves with great zest. that mule had been hard riding. "first of all," he said to himself, half aloud, "i've got to find out where i'm at. then i'll maybe be able to figure out what i ought to do." stuart's mind was not so quick as it was strong. he was a straight up-and-down honest type of fellow, and thoroughly disliked the crafty and intriguing boy or man. he began cautiously, but got warmed up as he went on, and made a whirlwind finish. it was characteristic of him, thus, not to plunge into any wild and desperate attempt to rescue his father, until he had time to puzzle out the situation and work out a plan of action. he began by reading all the papers and documents he had taken from his father's knapsack. this was a long job, for the papers were full of allusions to subjects he did not understand. it was nearly noon before he had digested them. then he lay on his back and looked up through the tracery of leaves overhead, talking aloud so that the sound of his own voice might make his discoveries clearer. "the way i get it," he mused, "father's on the trail of some plot against the united states. this plot is breaking loose, here, in haiti. this manuel polliovo's in it, and so is a negro general, cesar leborge. there's a third, but the papers don't say who he is. "now," he went on, "i've two things to do. i've got to find father and i've got to find out this plot. which comes first?" he rolled over and consulted one or two of the papers. "looks like something big," he muttered, kicking his heels meditatively. "i wonder what father would say i ought to do?" at the thought, he whirled over and up into a sitting posture. "if it's dangerous to the u. s.," he said, "that's got to come first. and i don't worry about father. he can get out of any fix without me." the glow of his deep-hearted patriotism began to burn in the boy's eyes. he sat rigid, his whole body concentrated in thought. "if manuel polliovo has captured father," he said aloud, at last, "it must have been because father was shadowing him. that means that manuel doesn't want to be shadowed. that means i've got to shadow him. but how?" the problem was not an easy one. it was obvious that stuart could not sleuth this cuban, manuel, without an instant guess being made of his identity, for white boys were rare in haiti. if only he were not white. if only---- stuart thumped on the ground in his excitement. why could he not stain his skin coffee-color, like a haitian boy? if sufficiently ragged, he might be able to pass without suspicion. it might be only for a day or two, for stuart was sure that his father would appear again on the scene very soon. this much, at least, he had decided. no one was going to plot against his country if he could help it. there was not much that he could do, but at least he could shadow one of the conspirators, and what he found out might be useful to his father. this determination reached, the boy hunted for some wild fruit to stay his appetite--he had nothing to eat since the night before--and settled down for the rest of the afternoon to try and dig out the meaning of his father's papers, some of which seemed so clear, while to others he had no clew. it was characteristic of the boy that, once this idea of menace to the united states had got into his head, the thought of personal danger never crossed his mind. the slightly built boy, small even for his age, the first sight of whom would have suggested a serious high-school student rather than a sleuth, possessed the cool ferocity of a ferret when that one love--his love of country--was aroused. his first step was clear. as soon as it was dark enough to cover his movements, he would go to the house of one of his father's friends, a little place built among the ruins of cap haitien, where they had stayed two or three times before. from references in some of the letters, stuart gathered that his father had confidence in this man, though he was a haitian negro. as soon as the shadows grew deep enough, stuart made his way through the half-grown jungle foliage--the place had been a prosperous plantation during french occupation--and, a couple of hours later, using by-paths and avoiding the town, he came to this negro's house. he tapped at the same window on which his father had tapped, when they had come to cap haitien a week or so before, and leon, the negro, opened the door. "but, it is you, yes!" he cried, using the haitian idiom with its perpetual recurrence of "yes" and "no," and went on, "and where is monsieur your father?" "i don't know," answered stuart, speaking in english, which he knew leon understood, though he did not speak it. "i have missed him." "but where, and but how?" queried leon, suddenly greatly excited. "was he already going up to the citadel?" stuart's face flushed with reflected excitement, but his eyes held the negro's steadily. leon knew more than the boy had expected he would know. "no," he replied, "i don't think so. i shall have to go." "it is impossible, impossible, yes!" cried leon, throwing up his hands in protest. "i told monsieur your father that it was impossible for him. and for you----" a graphic shrug completed the sentence. stuart felt a sinking at the pit of his stomach, for he was no braver than most boys. but the twist of his determination held him up. "leon," he said, trying to keep his voice steady, though he felt it sounded a little choked, "isn't there the juice of some root which will turn the skin brown, nearly black?" "but, yes, the plavac root." the haitian peered at the boy. "you would make yourself a black man?" he continued. stuart ignored argument. "can you get some? tonight? right away?" "ah, well; you know--" leon began. the boy interrupted him sharply. "if my father told you to get some, you would get it," he declared peremptorily. this was a shrewd guess, for, as a matter of fact, there were a number of reasons why leon should do what mr. garfield told him. the negro, who had no means of finding how much or how little the boy knew, shrugged his shoulders hugely, and, with a word of comment, left the house, carrying a lantern. he was back in half an hour with a handful of small plants, having long fibrous roots. these he cut off, placed in a pot, covering them with water, and set the pot on the stove over a slow fire. "it will not come off the skin as easily as it goes on, no!" he warned. "time enough to think about that when i want to take it off," came the boy's reply. the decoction ready, leon rubbed it in thoroughly into stuart's skin. it prickled and smarted a good deal at first, but this feeling of discomfort soon passed away. "it won't rub off?" queried stuart. leon permitted himself a grim pleasantry. "not against a grindstone!" this positive assertion was as reassuring in one way as it was disquieting in another. stuart did not want to remain colored for an indefinite period of time. in his heart of hearts he began to wonder if he had not acted a little more hastily, and that if he had asked for leon's advice instead of ordering him around, he might have found some milder stain. but it was too late to repent or retract now. his skin was a rich coffee brown from head to foot, and his dark eyes and black hair did not give his disguise the lie. "i'm going to bed," he next announced, "and i want some ragged boy's clothes by morning, leon. very ragged. also an old pair of boots." "that is not good," protested the haitian, "every boy here goes barefoot, yes!" stuart was taken aback. this difficulty had not occurred to him. it was true. not only the boys, but practically nine men out of ten in haiti go barefoot. this stuart could not do. accustomed to wearing shoes, he would cut his feet on the stones at every step he took on the roads, or run thorns into them every step he took in the open country. "i must have boots," he declared, "but old ones. those i've been wearing," he nodded to where they lay on the floor--for this conversation was carried on with the boy wearing nothing but his new brown skin--"would give me away at once." "i will try and get them," answered leon. his good-humored mouth opened in a wide smile. "name of a serpent!" he ejaculated, "but you are the image of the son of my half-sister!" at which saying, perhaps stuart ought to have been flattered, since it evidenced the success of his disguise. but, being american, it ruffled him to be told he resembled a negro. he went to bed, far from pleased with himself and rather convinced that he had been hasty. yet his last waking thought, if it had been put into words, would have been: "it's the right thing to do, and i'm going through with it!" chapter ii where black men rule stuart was not the only person on the streets of cap haitien the next morning who was conscious of personal danger. manuel polliovo was ill at ease. bearing the secret that he bore, the cuban knew that a hint of it would bring him instant death, or, if the authorities had time to intervene, incarceration in a haitian prison, a fate sometimes worse than death. even the dreaded presence of u. s. marines would not hold the negro barbarians back, if they knew. manuel was by no means blind to his peril. he was relieved in the thought that the american, garfield, was where he could not do him any harm, but there were other dangers. hence he was startled and jumped nervously, on hearing a voice by his elbow. "do you want a guide, senor?" "a guide, boy! where to?" the answer came clear and meaningly: "to the citadel of the black emperor!" the cuban grew cold, under the burning sun, and, professional conspirator though he was, his face blenched. his hand instinctively sought the pocket wherein lay his revolver. yet he dare not kill. five years of american occupation had bred a sense of law and order in the coast towns, at least, which had not been known in haiti for a century and more. any violence would lead to inquiry, and manuel's record was not one which would bear investigation. how came this ragged haitian urchin to know? manuel's swift glance at stuart had shown him nothing but a creole lad in clothes too big for him and a pair of boots fastened with string. the messenger meant nothing, it was the message which held menace. to the cuban this apparently chance street encounter was ominous of black threat. it revealed treachery and might mean a trap. but from whence? swiftly manuel's keen brain, the brain of an arch-plotter, scanned the manifold aspects of this sudden threat. how much labor, how many wild adventures, what a series of dangers would stuart have escaped, had he but been able to read the thoughts of that crafty brain! did his fellow-conspirators want to get rid of him? so manuel's doubts ran. did they count on his shooting the boy, in a panic, and being lynched for it, there and then, on the street of cap haitien? or of his being imprisoned, tried and executed for murder? such a plot was not unlikely. but, if so, who had sent the boy? was cesar leborge playing him false? true, from that bull-necked, ferocious negro general, manuel knew he could expect nothing but brutality, envy and hate; but such a design as this boy's intervention seemed too subtle for the giant creole's brain. manuel accounted himself master of the negro when it came to treachery and cunning. moreover, he knew leborge to be a sullen and suspicious character, little likely to talk or to trust anyone. what did the boy know? manuel flashed a look at him. but stuart was idly fiddling in the dust with the toe of his ragged boot, and the cuban's suspicions flashed to another quarter. could the englishman, guy cecil, be to blame? that did not seem any more likely. manuel was afraid of cecil, though he would not admit it, even to himself. the englishman's chill restraint, even in moments of the most tense excitement, cowed the cuban. never had he been able to penetrate into his fellow-conspirator's thoughts. but that cecil should have talked loosely of so vital, so terrible a secret? no. the grave itself was not more secretive than that quiet schemer, of whom nothing ever seemed to be known. and to a negro boy! no, a thousand times, no! stay--was this boy a negro boy? suspicion changed its seat in the wily cuban's brain. that point, at least, he would find out, and swiftly. he looked at his ragged questioner, still fiddling with his toe in the dust, and answered. "well," he said, "you can show me what there is to be seen in this place. but first i will go to the café. no," he continued, as the boy turned towards the new part of the town, built under american oversight, "not there. to the café de l'opéra. go down the street and keep a few steps in front." stuart obeyed. he had seen the first swift motion of the cuban's hand, when he had been accosted, and had guessed that it was pistolwards. it was uncomfortable walking in front of a man who was probably aching to blow one's brains out. nasty little cold shivers ran up and down stuart's back. but the tents of the u. s. marines, in camp a little distance down the beach, gave him courage. with his sublime faith in the united states, stuart could not believe that he could come to any harm within sight of the stars and stripes floating from the flagstaff in front of the encampment. while stuart was thus getting backbone from his flag, manuel was concentrating his wits and experience on this problem which threatened him so closely. was this boy a negro? a life spent in international trickery on a large scale had made the cuban a good judge of men. he knew native races. he knew--what the white man generally ignores or forgets--that between the various black races are mental differences as wide as between races of other color. he knew that the ewe negro is no more like the riff in character, than the phlegmatic dutchman resembles the passionate italian. if a black, to what race did this boy belong? was he a black, at all? the bright sun threw no reflected lights on the boy's skin, the texture of which was darker than that of a mulatto, and had a dead, opaque look, lacking the golden glow of mulatto skin. the lad's hair showed little hint of bantu ancestry and his feet were small. true, all this might betoken any of the creole combinations common in haiti, but the cuban was not satisfied. if the skin had been stained, now---- "boy!" he called. stuart looked around. "here are some coppers for you." the boy slouched toward him, extended his hand negligently and the cuban dropped some three-centime pieces into it. stuart mumbled some words of thanks, imitating, as far as he could, the haitian dialect, but, despite his desire to act the part, feeling awkward in receiving charity. manuel watched him closely, then, abruptly, bade him go on ahead. the scrutiny had increased his uneasiness. this self-appointed guide was no negro, no mulatto, of that manuel was sure. the money had been received without that wide answering grin of pleasure characteristic in almost all negro types. moreover, the palms of the boy's hands were the same color as the rest of his skin. the cuban knew well that a certain dirty pallor is always evident on the palms of the hands of even the blackest negroes. the boy's reference to the "citadel of the black emperor" showed that he was aware of this secret meeting of conspirators. this was grave. more, he was disguised. this was graver still. was this boy, too, afraid of haiti, that savage land at the doors of america; that abode where magic, superstition and even cannibalism still lurk in the forests; that barbarous republic where the white man is despised and hated, and the black man dominates? that land where the only civilizing force for a century has been a handful of american marines! that this boy was disguised suggested that he was in fear for his life; but, if so, why was he there? how did he come to know the pass-word of the conspiracy? for what mysterious reason did he offer himself as a guide to the haunted place of meeting? who was this boy? manuel turned into the café de l'opéra, a tumble-down frame shack with a corrugated iron roof, to order a cooling drink and to puzzle out this utterly baffling mystery. the cuban's first impulse was to flee. had anything less imperious than this all-important meeting been before him, manuel would have made his escape without a moment's delay. cap haitien is no place for a white man who has fallen under suspicion. of the four gateways into haiti it is the most dangerous. in jacamal, a white man may be left alone, so long as he does not incur the enmity of the blacks; in gonaive the foreign holders of concessions may protect him; in port-au-prince, the capital, he is safeguarded by the potent arm of the american marines; but, in the country districts back of cap haitien, the carrion buzzards may be the only witnesses of his fate. and, to that back country, the cuban must go. all this, manuel knew, and he was a shrewd enough man to dare to be afraid. stuart squatted in the shadow of the building while the cuban sipped from his glass. thus, each doubting the other, and each fearing the other, they gazed over the busy desolation of cap haitien, a town unlike any other on earth. save for a small and recently rebuilt section in the heart of the town--which boasted some , inhabitants--flimsy frame houses rose in white poverty upon the ruins of what was once known as "the little paris of the west indies." of the massive buildings of a century ago, not one remained whole. the great earthquake of did much toward their destruction; the orgy of loot and plunder which followed, did more; but the chiefest of all agents of demolition was the black man's rule. the spacious residences were never rebuilt, the fallen aqueducts were left in ruins, the boulevards fell into disrepair and guinea-grass rioted through the cracked pavements. back of the town the plantations were neglected, the great houses fallen, while the present owners lived contentedly in the little huts which once had been built for slaves. the ruthless hands of time, weather and the jungle snatched back "little paris," and cap haitien became a huddled cluster of pitiful buildings scattered among the rubbish-heaps and walls of a once-beautiful stone-built town. this appearance of desolation, however, was contradicted by the evidence of commercial activity. the sea-front was a whirl of noise. the din of toil was terrific. over the cobblestoned streets came rough carts drawn by four mules--of the smallest race of mules in the world--and these carts clattered down noisily with their loads of coffee-sacks, the drivers shouting as only a haitian negro can shout. at the wharf, each cart was at once surrounded by a cluster of negroes, each one striving to outshout his fellows, while the bawling of the driver rose high above all. lines of negroes, naked to the waist, sacks on their glistening backs, poured out from the warehouses like ants from an anthill, but yelling to out-vie the carters. the tiny car-line seemed to exist only to give opportunity for the perpetual clanging of the gong; and the toy wharf railway expended as much steam on its whistle as on its piston-power. stuart had visited the southern part of haiti with his father, especially the towns of port-au-prince and jacamel, and he was struck with the difference in the people. cap haitien is a working town and its people are higher grade than the dwellers in the southern part of the republic. the south, however, is more populous. haiti is thickly inhabited, with , , people, of whom only , are foreigners, and of these, not more than , are whites. the island is incredibly fertile. a century and a quarter ago it was rich, and could be rich again. its coffee crop, alone, could bring in ample wealth. to stuart's eyes, coffee was everywhere. the carts were loaded with coffee, the sacks the negroes carried were coffee-sacks, the shining green berries were exposed to dry on stretches of sailcloth in vacant lots, among the ruins on the sides of the streets. haitian coffee is among the best in the world, but the haitian tax is so high that the product cannot be marketed cheaply, the american public will not pay the high prices it commands, and nearly all the crop is shipped to europe. "look at that coffee!" stuart's father had exclaimed, just a week before. "where do you suppose it comes from, stuart? from cultivated plantations? very little of it. most of the crop is picked from half-wild shrubs which are the descendants of the carefully planted and cultivated shrubs which still linger on the plantations established under french rule, a century and a half ago. a hundred years of negro power in haiti has stamped deterioration, dirt and decay on the island." "but that'll all change, now we've taken charge of the republic!" had declared stuart, confident that the golden letters "u. s." would bring about the millennium. his father had wrinkled his brows in perplexity and doubt. "it would change, my boy," he said, "if america had a free hand. but she hasn't." "why not?" "because, officially, we have only stepped in to help the haitians arrive at 'self-determination.' the treaty calls for our aid for ten years, with a possibility of continuing that protection for another ten years. but we're not running the country, we're only policing it and advising the haitians as to how things should be handled." "do you think they'll learn?" "to govern themselves, you mean? yes. to govern themselves in a civilized manner? no. i wouldn't go so far as to say that slavery or peonage are the only ways to make the up-country haitian negro work, though a good many people who have studied conditions here think so. "the program of the modern business man in haiti is different: make the negro discontented with his primitive way of living, give him a taste for unnecessary luxuries, teach him to envy his neighbor's wealth and covet his neighbor's goods, and then make him work in order to earn the money to gratify these wishes, and civilization will begin. "mark you, stuart, i don't say that i endorse this program, i'm only telling you, in half-a-dozen words, what it really is. it is sure, though, that when the black man rules, he relapses into savagery; when he obeys a white master, he rises toward civilization." stuart remembered this, now, as he sat outside the café, and looked pridefully at the tents of the u. s. marines in the distance. he realized that american improvements in the coast towns had not changed the nature of the haitian negro, or creole, as he prefers to be called. under his father's instruction, the boy had studied haitian history, and he knew that the spaniards had ruled by fear, the french had ruled by fear, the negro emperors and presidents had ruled by fear, and, under the direct eye of the u. s. marines, haiti is still ruled by fear. in a dim way--for stuart was too young to have grasped it all--the boy felt that this was not militarism, but the discipline necessary to an undeveloped race. only the year before, stuart himself had been through an experience which brought the innate savagery of the haitian vividly before his eyes. he had been in port-au-prince when the cacos undertook to raid the town, seize the island, and sweep the united states marines into the sea. and, as he had heard a marine officer tell his father, but for a chance accident, they might have succeeded. in october, , charlemagne peralte, the leader of the cacos, was killed by a small punitive party of u. s. marines. the cacos may be described as haitian patriots or revolutionists, devotees of serpent and voodoo worship, loosely organized into a secret guerilla army. they number at least , men, probably more. about one-half of the force is armed with modern rifles. the headquarters of the cacos is in the mountain country in the center of the island, above the plain of cul-de-sac, where no white influence reaches. no one who knew haitian conditions doubted that revenge would be sought for charlemagne's death, and all through the winter of - , the marines were on the alert for trouble. the cacos leadership had devolved upon benoit, a highly educated negro, who had secured the alliance of "the black pope" and chu-chu, the two lieutenants of charlemagne. upon benoit fell the duty of "chasing the white men into the sea" and exterminating the americans, just as toussaint l'ouverture drove the english, and dessalines, christophe and pétion drove the french, a century before. nearly four years of american occupation had passed. that the purpose of the united states was purely philanthropic was not--and is not--believed by the vast majority of the haitians. though living conditions have improved vastly, though brigandage on the plains has ceased, and though terrorism has diminished, at heart only the haitian merchants and job-holders like the american occupation. the educated creoles tolerate it. the semi-savages of the hills resent it. on january , some of the white men in port-au-prince noticed that the creoles were excited and nervous. at the café bordeaux, at the seaside inn, at the hotel bellevue, strange groups met and mysterious passwords were exchanged. sullen and latent hostility was changing from smouldering rancor to flaming hate. port-au-prince was ripe for revolt. stuart remembered his father's return that night. "son," he had said, putting a revolver on the little table beside his bed, "i hope you won't have to use this, but, at least, i've taught you to shoot straight." that night, benoit, gathering up the local detachments of his forces, moved them in scattered groups through the abandoned plantations and off the main roads to the outskirts of the city. he had over , men with him. most had modern rifles. all had machetes. all over the island other bands were in readiness, their orders being to wait until they heard of the fall of port-au-prince, when the massacre of all whites might begin. benoit's plan was to take the city at daybreak. at midnight, he started three columns of men each, from three directions. they wandered into the city by twos and threes, taking up positions. their orders were, that, at the firing of a gun at daybreak, when the stores opened, they were to rush through the business district, setting fires everywhere and killing the white men and the gendarmerie. benoit believed that, while his men could not withstand a pitched battle with the marines, they could sweep the town in guerilla fashion when the marines were scattered here and there, putting out fires. moreover, the cacos general was sure that, once a massacre of the whites was begun, race hatred would put all the black population on his side. two o'clock in the morning came. mr. elliott, manager of a sugar refinery at hascoville, a suburb two miles out of the city, was sleepless, and a vague uneasiness possessed him. thinking that the fresh air might be beneficial, he went to a window and looked out. "out of the myriad hissing, rustling and squawking noises of a tropic night, he heard the unmistakable 'chuff-chuff-chuff' of a marching column of barefoot men. he made out a single-file column moving rapidly across a field, off the road. he made out the silhouetes of shouldered rifles. far off, under a yellow street lamp, he glimpsed a flash of a red shirt. that was enough. he telephoned to the marine brigade that the cacos were about to raid port-au-prince. "benoit's bubble," continued the report of the special correspondent of the _new york world_, "burst right there. only about of his 'shock troops' had reached the market-place. no fires had been set. the people were all in bed and asleep. there were no materials for a panic. "the marines, in patrols and in larger formations, spread through the streets swiftly to the posts arranged for emergency. leslie coombs, one of the marines, saw several men enter the market, where they had no right to be; he ran to the door and was set upon by machete men, who slashed him and cut him down, but not until he had emptied his automatic. "the shooting and hand-to-hand fighting spread in a flash all through the business part of the city. the rest of the surprise detachment of the cacos made a rush for the center of the city. one block was set on fire and burned. "the marines deployed steadily and quickly. they put sputtering machine guns on the corners and cleaned the principal streets. there was fighting on every street and alley of a district more than a mile square. "the cacos stood their ground bravely for a while, but their case was hopeless. the american fire withered them. first those on the rim of the city, and then those inside, turned their faces to the hills. the main body, realizing that the plan of attack was ruined, started a pell-mell retreat. "the marines moved from the center of the city, killing every colored man who was not in the olive-drab uniform of the gendarmerie. "as the sky turned pink and then flashed into blazing daylight, the fight became a hunt. on every road and trail leading from the city, marine hunted cacos. "one hundred and twenty-two dead cacos were found in and about the city; bodies found along the line of retreat in the next few days raised the total of known dead to . there were numerous prisoners, among them the famous chieftain, chu-chu." it was a swift and merciless affair, but, as stuart's father had commented, no one who knew and understood haitian conditions denied that it had been well and wisely done. stuart had seen some of the fighting, and his father had pointed out to him that port-au-prince is not the whole of haiti, nor does one repulse quell a revolt. the boy knew, and the cuban, watching him, knew that for every man the marines had slain, two had joined the cacos and had sworn the blood-oath before the high priest and the high priestess (papaloi and mamaloi) of voodoo. revolt against the american occupation, therefore, was an ever-present danger. stuart wondered whether the negro who had been sent to him by manuel were a cacos, and, if so, whether his father were a prisoner among the cacos. manuel, for his part, wondered who this boy might be, who had darkened his skin in disguise. one thing the cuban had determined and that was that he would not let the boy know that his disguise had been penetrated. none the less, he must find out, if possible, how the lad had come to know about the meeting-place of the conspirators. finishing his drink, the cuban rose, and, motioning to stuart to precede him, walked to the sparsely settled section between the commercial center of the town and the marine encampment. when the shouts of the toiling workers had grown faint in the distance, the cuban stopped. "boy!" he called. stuart braced himself. he knew that the moment of his test had come. his heart thumped at his ribs, but he kept his expression from betraying fear. he turned and faced the cuban. "in my right-hand pocket," said manuel, in his soft and languorous voice, "is a revolver. my finger is on the trigger. if you tell one lie--why, that is the end of you! why did you mention the citadel of the black emperor?" stuart's heart gave a bound of relief. he judged, from manuel's manner, that his disguise had not been guessed. elated with this supposed success, he commenced to tell glibly the tale he had prepared and studied out the day before. "i wanted to give you a warning," he said. the cuban's gaze deepened. "warning? what kind of a warning? from whom?" "cesar leborge," answered stuart. he had judged from his father's papers that the two were engaged in a conspiracy, and thought that he could do nothing better than to provoke enmity between them. the proverb "when thieves fall out, honest men come by their own," rang through his head. manuel was obviously impressed. "what do you know about this?" he asked curtly. "tell your story." "i hate leborge," declared stuart, trying to speak as a negro boy would speak. "he took away our land and killed my father. i want to kill him. he never talks to anybody, but he talks to himself. the other night i overheard him saying he 'must get rid of that cuban at the citadel of the black emperor.' "so when i saw you here in cap haitien, i took a chance on it's being you he meant. if it hadn't been you, my asking you if you wanted a guide wouldn't have been out of the way." "you are a very clever boy," said manuel, and turned away to suppress a smile. certainly, he thought, this boy was a very clumsy liar. stuart had never tried to play a part before, and had no natural aptitude for it. his imitation of the haitian accent was poor, his manner lacked the alternations of arrogance and humility that the haitian black wears. then his story of the shadowing of leborge was not at all in character. and, besides, as the cuban had convinced himself, the boy was not a haitian negro at all. then, suddenly, a new thought flashed across manuel's mind. he had thought only of his fellow-conspirators as traitors. but there was one other who had some inkling of the plot--garfield, the american. and garfield had a boy! the cuban's lip curled with contempt at the ease with which he had unmasked stuart. he had only to laugh and announce his discovery, for the boy to be made powerless. it was a temptation. but manuel was too wily to yield to a temptation merely because it was pleasurable. as long as the boy did not know that he had been found out, he would live in a fool's paradise of his own cleverness. believing himself unsuspected, he would carry out his plans--whatever they were--the while that manuel, knowing his secret, could play with him as a cat plays with a mouse she has crippled. he decided to appear to believe this poorly woven story. "if you hate leborge, and leborge hates me," he said, "i suppose we are both his enemies. i presume," he added, shrewdly, "if i refused to take you with me to the citadel of the black emperor, you would shadow me, and go any way." a flash of assent came into the boy's eyes, which, he was not quick enough to suppress. decidedly, stuart was not cut out for a conspirator, and would never be a match for the cuban in guile. "i see you would," the cuban continued. "well, i would rather have you within my sight. here is money. tomorrow, an hour after sunrise, be at the door of the hotel with the best horses you can find. i wish to be at millot by evening." stuart took the money and preceded manuel into the town, chuckling inwardly at his cleverness in outwitting this keen conspirator. but he would have been less elated with his success if he had heard the cuban mutter, as he turned into the porch of the hotel, "first, the father. now, the son!" chapter iii the blood-stained citadel a foul, slimy ooze, compounded of fat soil, rotting vegetation and verdigris-colored scum, with a fainter green mark meandering through it--such was the road to millot. stuart and the cuban, the boy riding ahead, were picking their away across this noisome tract of land. for a few miles out of cap haitien, where the finger of american influence had reached, an air of decency and even of prosperity had begun to return. near the town, the road had been repaired. fields, long abandoned, showed signs of cultivation, anew. two hours' ride out, however, it became evident that the new power had not reached so far. the road had dwindled to a trail of ruts, which staggered hither and thither in an effort to escape the quagmires--which it did not escape. twice, already, stuart's horse had been mired and he had to get out of the saddle and half-crawl, half-wriggle on his belly, in the smothering and sucking mud. so far, manuel had escaped, by the simple device of not passing over any spot which the boy had not tried first. this caution was not to serve him long, however. at some sight or sound unnoticed by the rider, manuel's horse shied from off the narrow path of tussocks on which it was picking its way, and swerved directly into the morass. the cuban, unwilling to get into the mud, tried to urge the little horse to get out. two or three desperate plunges only drove it down deeper and it slipped backward into the clawing mire. manuel threw himself from his horse, but he had waited almost too long, and the bog began to draw him down. he was forced to cry for help. stuart, turning in his saddle, saw what had happened. he jumped off his horse and ran to help the cuban. the distance was too great for a hand-clasp. the ragged trousers which stuart was wearing in his disguise as a haitian lad were only held up by a piece of string; he had no belt which he could throw. there was no sapling growing near enough to make a stick. then there came into the boy's mind an incident in a western story he had read. darting back to his horse, he unfastened the saddle girth, and, hurrying back to where manuel was floundering in the mud, he threw the saddle outwards, holding the end of the girth. it was just long enough to reach. with the help of the flat surface given by the saddle and a gradual pulling of the girth by stuart, the cuban was at last able to crawl out. the gallant little horse, freed from its rider's weight, had reached a point where it could be helped, and the two aided the beast to get its forefeet on solid land. this rescue broke down much of the distance and some of the hostility between manuel and stuart, and, as soon as the road began to rise from the quagmire country, and was wide enough to permit it, the cuban ordered the boy to ride beside him. naturally, the conversation dealt with the trail and its dangers. "you would hardly think," said the cuban, "that, a hundred years ago, a stone-built road, as straight as an arrow, ran from cap haitien to millot, and that over it, toussaint l'ouverture, 'the black napoleon,' was wont to ride at breakneck speed, and christophe, 'the black emperor,' drove his gaudy carriage with much pomp and display." to those who take the road from cap haitien to millot today, the existence of that ancient highway seems incredible. yet, though only a century old, it is almost as hopelessly lost as the road in the sahara desert over which, once, toiling slaves in egypt dragged the huge stones of which the pyramids of ghizeh were built. stuart and the cuban had made a late start. in spite of the powerful political influence which the cuban seemed to wield, his departure had been fraught with suspicion. the military governor, a gigantic coal-black negro, had at first refused to grant permission for polliovo to visit the citadel; the commandant of marines had given him a warning which was almost an ultimatum. manuel, with great suavity, had overset the former and defied the latter. his story was of the smoothest. he was a military strategist, he declared, and general leborge had asked him to investigate the citadel, in order to determine its value as the site for a modern fort. stuart's part in the adventure was outwardly simple. no one thought it worth while to question him, and he accompanied the cuban as a guide and horse-boy. although the road improved as the higher land was reached, it was dusk when the two riders arrived at the foothills around millot. dark fell quickly, and, with the dark, came a low palpitating rumble, that distant throbbing of sound, that malevolent vibrance which gives to every haitian moonlit night an oppression and a fear all its own. "rhoo-oo-oom--rhoo-oo-oom--rhoo-oo-oom!" muffled, dull, pulsating, unceasing, the thrummed tom-tom set all the air in motion. the vibrance scarcely seemed to be sound, rather did it seem to be a slower tapping of air-waves on the drum of the ear, too low to be actually heard, but yet beating with a maddening persistence. there was a savagery in the sound, so disquieting, that a deep sigh of relief escaped from the boy's lungs when he saw the lights of millot twinkling in the distance. somehow, the presence of houses and people took away the sinister sound of the tom-tom and made it seem like an ordinary drum. millot, in the faint moonlight, revealed itself as a small village, nestling under high mountains. signs of former greatness were visible in the old gates which flanked the opening into its main street, but the greater part of the houses were thatched huts. when at the very entrance of the village, there came a ringing challenge, "halt! who goes there?" "a visitor to the general," was manuel's answer. the barefoot sentry, whose uniform consisted of a forage cap, a coat with one sleeve torn off and a pair of frayed trousers, but whose rifle was of the most up-to-date pattern, was at once joined by several others, not more splendidly arrayed than himself. as with one voice, they declared that the general could not be disturbed, but the cuban carried matters with a high hand. dismounting, he ordered one of the sentries to precede him and announce his coming, and bade stuart see that the horses were well looked after and ready for travel in the morning, "or his back should have a taste of the whip." this phrase, while it only increased the enmity the soldiers felt toward the "white," had the effect of removing all suspicion from stuart, which, as the lad guessed, was the reason for manuel's threat. feeling sure that the boy would have the same animosity to his master that they felt, the soldiers seized the opportunity to while away the monotonous hours of their duty in talk. "what does he want, this 'white'?" they asked, suspiciously. "like all whites," answered stuart, striving to talk in the character of the negro horse-boy, "he wants something he has no right to have." "and what is that?" "information. he says he is a military strategist, and is going to make la ferrière, up there, a modern fort." "he will never get there," said one of the soldiers. "you think not?" "it is sure that he will not get there. permission is refused always, yes. the general is afraid lest a 'white' should find the buried money." "christophe's treasure?" queried the boy, innocently. he had never heard of this treasure before, but rightly guessed that if it were supposed to be hidden in the citadel of the black emperor, it must have been placed there by no one but the grim old tyrant himself. "but surely. yes. you, in the south"--stuart had volunteered the information that he came from the southern part of the island--"have you not heard the story of dimanche (sunday) esnan?" "i never heard it, no," stuart answered. "it was of strange, yes," the soldier proceeded. "christophe was rich, ah, how rich! he had all the money of the republic. he spent it like an emperor. you shall see for yourself, if you look, what christophe spent in building palaces, but no one shall say how much he spent on his own pleasures. he had a court, like the great courts of europe, and not a 'white' in them. ah, he was very rich and powerful, christophe. it is said that, when he died, he left , , gourdes (then worth about $ , , ) and this he buried, should he need money in order to escape. but, as even an ignorant like you will know, he did not escape." "i know," replied stuart, "he blew out his brains." "right over there, he did it!" the soldier agreed, pointing into the night. "but listen to the story of the treasure: "when i was but a little older than a boy like you, into the vache d'or (a former gambling-house of some fame) there strolled this dimanche esnan. he swaggered in, as one with plenty of money in his pocket. "upon the table he threw some coins. "the croupier stared down at those coins, with eyes as cold and fixed as those of a fer-de-lance ready to strike. the play at the table stopped. "it was a moment! "the coins were spanish doubloons!" "a pirate hoard?" suggested stuart. "it was thought. but this dimanche had not been off the island for years! and the buccaneers' treasure is at tortugas, as is well known. "this dimanche was at once asked if he had found christophe's treasure, for where else would a man find spanish doubloons of a century ago? it was plain, yes! "well, what would you? president hippolyte sent for him. he offered to make him a general, a full general, if he would but tell where he had found the treasure. he showed him the uniform. it was gold laced, yes, gold lace all over! dimanche was nearly tempted, but not quite. "then they let him come back here, to cap haitien, yes. all the day and all the night he was kept under watch. ah, that was a strict watch! every one of the guards thought that he might be the one to get clue to the place of the buried treasure, look you! "but the general here, at that time, was not a patient man, no! besides, he wanted the treasure. he wanted it without having the president of the republic know. with sixty-five million gourdes he might push away the president and be president himself, who knows? "what would you? the general put dimanche in prison and put him to the question (torture) but dimanche said nothing. ah, he was stubborn, that dimanche. he said nothing, nothing! the general did not dare to kill him, for he knew that the president had given orders to have the man watched. "so the prison doors were set open. pouf! away disappears dimanche and has not been seen since. he still carries the secret of the treasure of christophe--that is, if he is not dead." "but didn't the president try to find the hoard on his own account?" asked stuart. "but, most surely! my father was one of the soldiers in the party which searched in all the wonderful palaces that christophe had built for himself in 'without worry,' in 'queen's delight,' in 'the glory,' in 'beautiful view,' yes, even in the haunted citadel of la ferrière. no, i should not have liked to do that, it is surely haunted. but they found nothing. "me, i think that the money is in the citadel. has not the ghost of christophe been seen to walk there? and why should the ghost walk if it had not a reason to walk? eh?" "that does seem reasonable," answered stuart, in response to the soldier's triumphant tone. "but, most sure! so, boy," the guard concluded, "it is easy to see why the general does not like any 'white' to go to the citadel. perhaps the 'white,' whose horses you look after, has seen dimanche. who knows? so he will not be let get up there. you may be sure of that." "one can't ever say," answered the boy. "i must be ready for the morning," and, with a word of farewell, he sauntered into the village of millot, to find some kind of stabling and food for the horses, and, if possible, some shelter for himself. morning found stuart outside the door of the general's "mansion," a straw-thatched building, comprising three rooms and a narrow brick-paved verandah. from what the soldiers had said the night before, the boy had not the slightest expectation of the cuban's success. he had not waited long, however, before manuel came out through the door, obsequiously followed by a coal-black general daubed with gold lace--most of which was unsewn and hanging in tatters, and all of which was tarnished. he was strongly, even violently, urging upon manuel the need of an escort. the cuban not only disdained the question, but, most evidently, disdained and disregarded the man. this extraordinary scene was closed by the general, the commandant of the entire commune, holding out his hand for a tip. manuel put a five-gourdes bill (two dollars and a half) into the outstretched palm, and mounted his horse to an accompaniment of a profusion of thanks. a short distance out of millot, the two riders came to the ruins of christophe's palace of "without worry" (sans souci). it was once a veritable palace, situated on the top of a small hill overlooking a deep ravine. great flights of stone steps led up to it, while terrace upon terrace of what once were exquisitely kept gardens, filled with the finest statuary, stepped to the depths below. now, the gardens are waste, the statuary broken and the terraces are washed into gullies by the rains. the palace itself is not less lamentable. the walls are crumbling. everything movable from the interior has been looted. trees grow outward from the upper windows, and, in the cracks of masonry and marble floors, a tropic vegetation has sprung up. moss covers the mosaics, and the carved woodwork has become the prey of the worm. a little further on, at a hut which the general had described, manuel and stuart left their horses, and then began the steep climb up la ferrière. from the steaming heat of the plain below, the climbers passed into the region of cold. the remains of a road were there, but the track was so indistinct as to render it difficult to follow. "where the dense forest begins," manuel explained, "we shall find a warder. i would rather be without him, but the general does not dare to send a message that a 'white' may visit the citadel unaccompanied. besides, i doubt if we could find the way, though once this was a wide road, fit for carriage travel, on which the black emperor drove in pomp and state to his citadel. it is incredible!" "what is incredible?" asked stuart. "that christophe should have been able to make these negroes work for him as no people in the world have worked since the days when the pharaohs of egypt built the pyramids. you will see the vast size of the citadel. you see the steepness of the mountain. consider it! "the materials for the whole huge pile of building and the three hundred cannon with which it was fortified, were dragged up these steep mountain scarps and cliffsides by human hands. christophe employed the troops mercilessly in this labor and subdued mutiny by the simple policy of not only shooting the mutineers, but also a corresponding number of innocent men, as well, just to teach a lesson. whole villages were commandeered. sex made no difference. women worked side by side with men, were whipped side by side with men, and, if they weakened, were knifed or shot and thrown into a ditch. one of christophe's overseers is said to have boasted that he could have made a roadway of human bones from sans souci to the summit." the words "bloody ruffian" were on stuart's lips, but, just in time, he remembered his character, and replied instead, "but christophe was a great man!" the boy knew well that though toussaint l'ouverture, the "black napoleon," had truly been a great man in every sense of the word, a liberator, general and administrator, the haitians think little of him, because he believed that blacks, mulattoes and whites should have an equal chance. dessalines and christophe, monsters of brutality, are the heroes of haiti, because they massacred everyone who was not coal-black. manuel cast a sidelong glance at stuart, smiling inwardly at the boy's attempt to maintain his disguise, that disguise which the cuban had so quickly pierced, and shrugged his shoulders. "what would you!" he rejoined. "you see yourself, it is the only government that haitians understand. to this day, a century later, this part of the island is better than the south, because of the impress of the reign of christophe. nothing changes haiti!" "the americans?" queried stuart, trying to put a note of dislike into his voice, but intensely interested in his own question. "they have changed nothing!" declared the cuban, emphatically. "they have painted the faces of the coast towns, and that is all. you heard that drum, the night before last? not until the tom-tom has ceased to beat in haiti, can anything be changed." he rose, threw away the stump of his cigar, and motioned to the boy to take up the trail. a few hundred yards higher, a raucous shout halted them. there was a rustle of branches, and a negro colossus, of the low-browed, heavy-jawed type, plunged through the thicket and barred the path. bareheaded, barefooted, his shirt consisting of a piece of cloth with holes for head and arms, his trousers torn to tatters by thorns, the warder of the citadel looked what he was, a caco machete man, little removed from the ferocity of african savagery. to his shout, the cuban deigned no answer. he broke a switch from a bush, walked toward the negro guard with a contemptuous look and lashed him across the face with the switch, ordering him to lead the way. stuart expected to see the cuban cut down with one stroke of the machete. far from it. cowed at once, the negro cringed, as to a master, and, without a word as to manuel's authority, led the way up the trail. a hundred yards higher, all sign of a path was lost. the negro warder was compelled to use his machete to cut a way through thorny underbrush and creepers in order to make a path for the "white's" feet. the afternoon was well advanced when openings amid the trees showed, beetling overhead, the gray walls of the citadel. an hour's further climbing brought them to the guard-house, where eight men watch continually, each relief for a period of a month, against the intrusion of strangers into christophe's citadel. an irregularly disposed clump of posts, stuck into the ground, supported a rusted and broken tin roof, without walls, but boasting a brushwood pile on one side--such was the entire barracks of the la ferrière garrison. the furniture consisted only of a log on which to sit, a few cooking utensils, and a pile of rags in the driest corner. true, there was plenty of room in the citadel. many a chamber in the ruined place was dry and sheltered from the weather, many a corner was there where the watchers could have made themselves warm and comfortable. they were not forbidden to sleep there. on the contrary, they were encouraged. but never a one would do so. they declared the place haunted and were in a state of terror even to be near it. manuel, after pausing for a moment to take his breath, strode up to the group. "get in there, some of you!" he ordered, "and show me the way. i want to see over the place." a chorus of wails arose. the guards shrank and cowered at the suggestion. their terror was more than panicky, it was even hysterical. they shook with convulsive jerks of fear, as though they had a spasm disease. "christophe!" cried one of them, in a sort of howl. "christophe! for three days he is here, yes! we see him walk, yes! if we go in, he will make us jump off the cliff!" and another added, with an undertone of superstitious horror, "and his ghost will be waiting at the bottom to carry our ghosts away!" "fools!" declared manuel, "open the door!" he pointed to where the huge, rusty iron-bound door frowned in the blank wall of gray stone. the negro guards hung back and gabbled together, but manuel turned upon them fiercely with uplifted switch. at that, the giant warder, who had already acknowledged the mastership, slouched forward and pulled open the creaking door, leaving a dark opening from which came the smell of foul air and poisonous vegetation. manuel motioned with his head for stuart to precede him. the boy hesitated. he was brave enough, but the terror of the negroes was catching. he would not have admitted to being afraid, but there was a lump in his throat and his legs felt unsteady. the cuban, who felt sure that stuart was not the negro horse-boy that he seemed, judged this appearance of fear as evidence that the boy was still playing a part, and turned on him with a snarl. "get in there, you!" screwing up his courage, stuart stepped forward, though hesitatingly and unwillingly. just as he crossed the threshold, the giant warder reached out a gaunt hand and pulled him back. "not that way!" he said. "two steps more, boy, and you are dead!" manuel started. from his pocket he took a portable electric light and flashed it upon the ground just within the entrance. the negro guard was right. immediately before him lay a deep pit, how deep there was no means of saying. once it had been covered with a trap-door, which could be worked from the inner citadel. thus christophe, if he pleased, could send a message of welcome to his visitors, and drop them to a living death with the words of hospitality on his lips. "if i had gone first," said manuel quietly, turning to the guards, "not one of you would have said a word!" the negroes slunk away under his gaze. the accusation was true. they had no love for the "whites." only the fact that they believed stuart to be a negro boy had saved him. the boy looked down at that profound dungeon, from which rose a faint stench, and shuddered. there was a heavy pause. manuel was debating whether he dare try and force the guards to show the way. if he ordered it, he would have to force it through, or the prestige he had won would be lost. he dared not. as between the terror of a white man's gun, and the terror of a "ha'nt," the latter was the more powerful. motioning stuart to enter and showing the narrow ledge around the pit with the spotlight, he followed. then he turned to the guards clustered outside. "close the door!" he ordered, curtly. this command was obeyed with alacrity. the negro guards were only too anxious to see that hole in the wall shut. suppose the ghost of christophe should come gliding out among them! so far, the cuban was safe. he had reached the citadel and entered it. he had no fear that the warders would open it again to spy on him. their terror was too real. raising the spotlight so that it flashed full upon stuart's face, the cuban spoke. "understand me, now," he said curtly, and with a hard ring in his voice. "how much of your story may be true and how much false i have not yet found out. but, if what you say about hating leborge is true, i will put you in a place where you will be able to see him. you have a pistol, i know. if you see leborge raise pistol or knife against me, shoot, and shoot quickly! i will make you rich!" stuart thought to himself that if the conspirators were to come to quarreling, that was the very time he would keep still. he, certainly, had no desire for bloodshed, nor any intention to fire at anybody, if he could help it. but he only answered, "i understand." manuel's intention was no less concealed. he planned either to reveal the boy to his fellow-conspirators, or else, to reveal him to the negro warders as a white intruder. either way, he figured, there would be an end to the boy. by the light of his lamp, consulting a small manuscript chart of the ruin, manuel passed through many tortuous passages and dark chambers until he came to a ruined wall. climbing a few feet up the crumbling stones, he set his eye to a crevice, nodded as though satisfied, wrenched away several more stones, laying these down silently and beckoned stuart to come beside him. the boy looked down on a circular hall, the outer arc of which was pierced with ruined windows opening to the sky. "leborge will sit there!" whispered manuel, pointing. "kill him, and you will be rich!" stuart nodded. he did not trust himself to speak. walking as silently as he could, manuel left the place, pondering in his own mind what he was going to do with the boy. should he reveal the secret and have his fellow-conspirators kill him? should he turn him over to the machetes of the negroes? or should he kill the boy, himself? one thing he had determined--that stuart should not reach the plains below, alive. and stuart, in that hole of the ruined wall, crouched and watched. of what was to happen in that room below, what dark plot he was to hear, he had no knowledge. yet, over his eager desire to find out this conspiracy against the united states, above his anxiety with regard to the fate of his father, one question loomed in ever larger and blacker proportions-- he had got into the citadel. how was he to get out? chapter iv the ghost of christophe manuel was no coward. somewhere, back in his spanish ancestry, had been a single drop of an irish strain, adding a certain combativeness to the gallantry of his race. that drop, too, mixed badly with spanish treachery, and made him doubly dangerous. certainly the cuban was no coward. but, as he came out from the murk of those chambers with their rotting floors, many of them undermined by oubliettes and dungeons, he felt a chill of fear. even the occasional bursts of sunshine through the cloud-fog which perpetually sweeps over la ferrière did not hearten him. he passed into the open space back of the outer walls and set himself to climb the long flight of stone steps that led to the battlements, where, he thought, his fellow conspirators might be. but, on the summit, he found himself alone. the battlements cowed his spirits. with walls fifteen feet thick, wide enough to allow a carriage to be driven upon them, they looked over a sheer drop of two thousand feet. sinister and forbidding, even the sunlight could not lessen their grimness. as if in memory of the hundreds of victims who had been bidden jump off those ramparts, merely for christophe's amusement, or who had been hurled, screaming, as penalty for his displeasure, a ruddy moss feeding upon decay, has spread over the stones, and this moss, ever kept damp by the cloud-banks which wreathe the citadel continually is moistly red, like newly shed blood. in cracks and corners, fungi of poisonous hues adds another touch of wickedness. manuel shivered with repulsion. probably not in all the world, certainly not in the western hemisphere, is there a ruin of such historic terror as the citadel of the black emperor on the summit of la ferrière.[ ] [footnote : this ruin, now, is nominally in territory under the jurisdiction of an american provost-marshal. it is therefore less difficult of access than formerly, but it is still considered unsafe for travelers.] a gleam of sun revealed the extraordinary impregnability of the place. the double-walled entrance from the hillside, pierced by but a single gate, could only be battered down by heavy artillery, and no guns powerful enough for such a feat could be brought up the hill. the inner citadel, access to which was only by a long flight of steps, is unapproachable from any other point, and a handful of defenders could keep an army at bay. the cliff-side is as sheer as gibraltar, affording not even a foothold for the most venturesome climber. the walls are built upon its very verge and are as solid as the rock itself. its gray mass conveys a sense of enormous power. "it towers upon the last and highest precipice," says hesketh prichard, "like some sinister monster of the elder world, ready to launch itself forth upon the spreading lands below." the citadel commands the whole of the plain of the north clear to the distant sea. at its south-eastern end it faces toward the frontier of st. domingo, the sister republic, fifty miles away. christophe built it as a central base, controlling the only roads and passes which command the range from dondon to vallière, and rendering attack impossible, from the southern side, through marmalade. (many names in haiti give an irresistible appearance of being comic, such as the duke of lemonade, duke of marmalade, baron the prophet daniel, and colonel the baron roast beef, but they are intended seriously.) manuel had gazed over the landscape but a few moments when the sun was veiled in one of the cold, raw cloud-fogs which continually sweep the summit. billowing, dank masses hurtled about him, blotting out even the outlines of the ruin. for several minutes the grey mists enwreathed him, then, as they lightened, the cuban saw before him, shadow-like and strange, the figure of the black emperor himself. the warders' terror of the ghost of christophe cramped manuel's heart for a moment and he fell back. his hand flashed to his pocket, none the less. the figure laughed, a harsh coarse laugh which manuel knew and recognized at once. "general leborge," he exclaimed, surprise and self-annoyance struggling in his voice. "it is you!" "but yes, my friend, it is i. you see, i am not so daring as you. i came secretly. i have been here three days, waiting for you." "but the meeting was set for today!" "it is true. but it was more difficult for me to get here than for you. see you, as a stranger you had not the suspicion of intrusion to combat. no, if it were known that i were here, there would be political difficulties--ah, many! yes!" the cuban nodded. he was not especially interested in the political embroilments of his co-conspirator. as a matter of fact, the plot accomplished, it was manuel's purpose to let enough of the truth leak out to make it seem that leborge had been a traitor to the haitian republic. "have you seen cecil?" he asked. "not yet, no!" answered the negro general. "me, i had thought he would come with you." "he didn't. and he wasn't on the road from cap haitien, either. queer, too. first time i ever knew him to fail." "so! but i have a feeling he will not fail. he will be here today. come down to the place of meeting. i have some food and we can have a mouthful while waiting for him." the big negro cast a look at himself. "i do not think we shall be interrupted, no!" he commented. the cuban showed his teeth in the gleam of a quick smile. "the guards are too much afraid of the ghost of christophe to dare enter the place," he said. "that was a good idea of yours." the two men turned away from the battlements to the steps which led down toward the dwelling rooms, and manuel laid finger on lip. "it is well to be a ghost," he said, "but if the guards should chance to hear me talking to the ghost, they might begin to think. and thinking, my dear leborge, is sometimes dangerous." the huge negro nodded assent and hung back while manuel descended the stair. at the entrance into the high room, ringed with windows, in a small ruined opening of which stuart crouched watching, manuel waited for leborge. together they entered. at the door of the room the negro started back with an exclamation of astonishment, and even manuel paused. on a square block of stone in the center of the room, which manuel could have sworn was not there when he looked into the chamber a short half-hour before, sat guy cecil, complacently puffing at a briar pipe. his tweeds were as immaculate as though he had just stepped from the hands of his valet, and his tan shoes showed mark neither of mud nor rough trails. manuel's quick glance caught these details and they set him wondering. "by the ten finger-bones!" ejaculated leborge. "how did you get in here?" "why?" asked cecil, in mild surprise. "polliovo didn't see you come. i didn't see you come." "no?" the negation was insolent in its carelessness. "but how did you get in?" the englishman took his pipe from his mouth, and, with the stem, pointed negligently to a window. "that way," he said. the negro blustered out an oath, but was evidently impressed, and looked at his fellow-conspirator with superstitious fear. the cuban, more curious and more skeptical, went straight to the window and looked out. the crumbling mortar-dust on the sill had evidently been disturbed, seeming to make good the englishman's story, but, from the window, was a clear drop of four hundred feet of naked rock, without even a crack to afford a finger-hold, while the precipitous descent fell another fifteen hundred feet. to climb was a feat manifestly impossible. "permit me to congratulate you on your discovery of wings, senor cecil," remarked manuel, with irony. the englishman bowed, as at a matter-of-course compliment, and, by tacit agreement, the subject dropped. yet manuel's irritation was hard to hide. not the least of the reasons for his animosity to cecil was the englishman's undoubted ability to cover his movements. in the famous case when the two conspirators had negotiated an indigo concession in san domingo and the profits had suddenly slipped through manuel's fingers, the cuban was sure that the englishman had made a winning, but he had no proof. likewise, with this plot in hand, manuel feared lest he should be outmanoeuvred at the last. following cecil's example, leborge and manuel rolled out to the center of the room some blocks that had fallen from the walls, and sat down. stuart noticed that the cuban so placed himself that he was well out of a possible line of fire between the negro general and the embrasure where the boy was hidden. this carefulness, despite its air of negligence, reminded stuart of the rôle he was expected to play, and he concentrated his attention on the three conspirators. although the cuban was apparently the only one who had reason to suspect being overheard, the three men talked in low tones. the language used was french, as stuart gleaned from a word or two which reached his ears, but the subject of the conversation escaped him. one phrase, however, attracted his attention because it was so often repeated, and stuart surmised that this phrase must bear an important relation to the main subject of the meeting. the boy did not fail to realize that a conference so important that it could only be held in so secret a place must be of extraordinary gravity. this phrase was---- [illustration: for a hundred feet they fell and stuart closed his eyes in sickening dizziness] "mole st. nicholas." the words held no meaning for stuart, though he had seen reference to them in his father's papers. he suspected that the phrase might be some catch-word referring to a subject too dangerous for mention, possibly the presidency of haiti. following out this theme, the boy guessed that he was a witness to the hatching of one of the political revolutions, which, from time to time, have convulsed the republic of haiti. if so, the matter was serious, for, as the boy knew, ever since the treaty of , the united states was actively interested in forcing the self-determination of haiti, meanwhile holding the country under a virtual protectorate. such a revolution, therefore, would be a deliberate attack upon the united states. this impression was heightened by his catching the words "naval base," which could only deal with possible developments in a state of war. stuart strained his ears to the utmost, but isolated words were all that he could glean. later, stuart was to learn that his guess was at fault in general, but that the conclusion he had reached--namely, that injury to the united states was intended--was not far wide of the mark. as the conference proceeded, it became evident to the hidden observer that the relations between the conspirators were growing strained. the cuban seemed to be in taunting mood. the veins on the negro general's bull neck began to swell, and he turned and called manuel, "pale toad!" a moment after, his raucous voice insulted the englishman with the description, "snake that does not even hiss!" stuart expected to see violence follow these words, but the cuban only moved restlessly under the insult; the englishman smiled. it was a pleasant smile, but stuart was keen enough to grasp that a man who smiles when he is insulted must either be a craven or a dangerous man with an inordinate gift of self-control. cecil could not be a coward, or such men as manuel and leborge would not so evidently fear him, therefore the other character must befit him. another word which repeated itself frequently was---- "panama." this confirmed stuart in his suspicions that the conspiracy, whatever it might portend, was directed against the authority of the united states, since the panama canal zone is under american jurisdiction. the conference was evidently coming to a crisis. the negro was becoming excited, the cuban nervous, the englishman more immovable than ever. came a sudden movement, following upon some phrase uttered by manuel, but unheard by the boy, and the cuban and leborge leaped to their feet, a revolver in each man's right hand. spoke the englishman, in a quiet voice, but sufficiently deepened by excitement to reach the boy's ears: "is there any reason, gentlemen, why i should not shoot both of you and finish this little affair myself?" a revolver glittered in his hand, though no one had seen the action of drawing. in the flash of a second, stuart understood manuel's plot. it was the cuban who had provoked the negro to draw his weapon, counting on the boy's shooting his supposed enemy, as had been agreed upon. then manuel would drag him out of his hiding-place and kill him for an eavesdropper. he crouched, motionless, and watched. "sit down, and put up your weapons," continued cecil, his voice still tense enough to be heard clearly. "this is childishness. our plans need all three of us. it will be time enough to quarrel when we come to divide the spoils. first, the spoils must be won." negro and cuban, without taking their eyes from other, each fearing that the other might take an advantage, realized from cecil's manner, that he must have the drop on them. with a simultaneous movement, they put away their guns. the negro sat down, beaten. manuel, with a swift and hardly noticeable side-step, moved a little nearer to cecil, putting himself almost within knife-thrust distance. a slight, a very slight elevation of the barrel of the tiny revolver glittering in the englishman's hand warned the cuban that the weapon was covering his heart. an even slighter narrowing of the eyelids warned him that cecil was fully ready to shoot. with a low curse, the cuban retreated to his stone and sat down. he did not sprawl loosely in dejection, as had the negro, but he sat with one foot beside the stone and his body leaning half-forward, his muscles tense, like a forest cat awaiting its spring. the conference came to a head quickly, as stuart saw. the outbreak of mistrust and hostility, followed by discussion, proved how closely linked were the plotters. yet each man wanted the business done as quickly as possible, and wanted to be free from the danger of assassination by his comrades. leborge drew from his pocket a paper which he showed to the other two, and, in turn, manuel and cecil produced documents, the englishman using his left hand only and never dropping the barrel of his revolver. few words were exchanged, and these in the low tones in which the conference had been carried on before. of the contents of the papers, stuart could not even guess. whatever they were, they seemed to be satisfactory, for, so far as the boy could judge, harmony returned among the conspirators. but the englishman kept wary watch with his gun. "all goes well, then," concluded leborge, rising and shivering in the damp air, for the clouds were eddying through the ruined windows in raw and gusty blasts. "it can be done next spring!" declared the cuban. "it will be done, as agreed," was the englishman's more cautious statement. "then," said manuel, raising his voice a trifle in a way which stuart knew he was meant to hear, "the sooner i get down to cap haitien the better. i had trouble enough to get up." "it might be well," suggested the englishman, "if leborge should repeat his trick of appearing as the ghost of christophe. the guards will be so frightened that they will think of nothing else, and you will be able to get away without any unpleasantness." "and you?" queried the cuban. "how will you go?" again the englishman nodded toward the window. "i will use the wings you were kind enough to say i must possess," he answered, enigmatically. peering out cautiously from his post of observation in the embrasure, stuart saw that both manuel and leborge hesitated at the entrance to the dark passage which led from the dining hall and queen's chamber to the inner court, from whence went the paths leading respectively to the outer gate, whither manuel must go, and to the battlements, where leborge was to reappear as the ghost of christophe. "you are afraid of each other?" queried cecil, with his faint smile. "well, perhaps you have reason! i will go through the passage with both of you. as i said before, each of us needs the other." relief and hate passed like shadows across the faces of leborge and manuel. each had intended to kill the other in the dark of those passages, each had feared that he might be slain himself. as cecil knew, once out in the open, mutual distrust and watchfulness would ensure the keeping of the peace. stuart, listening intently for the sound of shots, heard in the distance the englishman's voice: "i forgot my pipe. i'll just go back for it." and then he heard steps coming at a light, but fast run. evidently cecil wanted to gain time. the englishman came in swiftly, picked up his pipe--which he had left on the stone--slipped across toward the window, moved a loosened stone and drew out from a cavity in the wall a green bundle from which some straps were hanging. these he buckled on as a body-harness. stuart had never seen fingers that moved so quickly, or which had less appearance of hurry. a thought struck him. impulsively, he leaped from the embrasure. a glitter told him that the gun was covering him. he spoke breathlessly. "manuel expected me to kill leborge. he'll kill me for not doing it." in answer to a commanding look of interrogation, stuart went on: "i'm an american, and straight. i'll tell you all about it, later. guess there isn't much time, now. take me with you." cecil knew men. he looked at the boy, piercingly, and answered: "very well. if you've got the nerve." "i have!" eye flashed to eye. came the decision: "your belt's too small. take mine!" the englishman unfastened his own belt, grasped the boy by the shoulders, spun him round, ran the belt under his arms and through the two sides of the harness he had strapped on himself. he took a step and a heave and both were on the window-sill. at the sight of the abyss below, a sudden panic caught stuart's breath and heart, and he seemed to choke. "what do we do?" he gasped. "we jump!" said cecil. they leaped clear. for a hundred feet they fell, and stuart closed his eyes in that sickening dizziness which comes from a high fall. then he felt cecil's arm grip him in a bear hug, and, a second after, his breast bone seemed to cave in, as a sudden jerk and strain came on the strap by which he was bound to the englishman. instinctively he tried to squirm free, but the grip and the strap held firm. then the falling motion changed into a slow rocking see-saw, coupled with a sense of extraordinary lightness, and stuart, looking overhead, saw the outstretched circle of a modern parachute. chapter v the isle of the buccaneers swaying in sea-sick fashion, stuart saw the forests, far below, seem to rise up to meet him. under the influence of the double motion of drop and roll, the whole earth seemed to be rocking, and the sense of the void beneath him made stuart feel giddy and faint. the fall was slower than he had expected. soon, a damp heat, rising from below, warned the boy that they were approaching the ground, and, a second or two later, the englishman said quietly: "we are going to hit the trees. cover your face and head with your arms. you won't be hurt, but there is no sense in having one's eyes scratched out." in fact, the trees were very near. stuart cast one look down, and then, following the advice given, covered his face. a quarter of a minute later, his legs and the lower half of his body plunged into twigs and foliage. the parachute, released from a part of the weight which had held it steady, careened, was caught by a sidewise gust of wind, and, bellying out like a sail, it dragged the two aerial travelers through the topmost branches in short, vicious jerks which made stuart feel as though he were being pulled apart. this lasted but a minute or two, however, when the parachute itself, torn, and caught in the branches, came to anchor. "i fancy we had better climb down," remarked cecil, cheerfully, and, at the same time, stuart realized that the belt, which had grappled him tight to the englishman's harness, had been loosened. the boy drew a long breath, for his lungs had been tightly compressed during the downward journey, and, instinctively, reached out for a branch sufficiently strong to support him. the englishman, a man of quicker action, had already swung clear and was descending the tree with a lithe agility that seemed quite out of keeping with his quiet and self-possessed manner. the boy, despite his youth, came down more clumsily. on reaching ground, he found his companion sedately polishing his tan boots with a tiny bit of rag he had taken from a box not much bigger than a twenty-five cent piece. stuart's clothes were torn in half-a-dozen places, cecil's tweeds were absolutely unharmed. the englishman caught the boy's thought and answered it. "explorers' cloth," he said. "i have it made specially for me; you can hardly cut it with a knife." inwardly the boy felt that he ought to be able to carry on the conversation in the same light vein, but his nerves were badly shaken. his companion glanced at him. "a bit done up, eh?" he took a metal container from his pocket, in shape like a short lead pencil, and poured out two tiny pellets into his palm. "if you are not afraid of poison," he remarked amicably, "swallow these. they will pick you up at once." the thought of poison had flashed into stuart's mind. after all, the englishman was just as much one of the conspirators as manuel or leborge, and might be just as anxious for the death of an eavesdropper. at the same time, the boy realized that he was absolutely in the englishman's power, and that if cecil wanted to get rid of him, there, in that thick forest, he had ample opportunity. to refuse the pellets might be even more dangerous than to accept them. besides, there was a certain atmosphere of directness in cecil, conspirator though the boy knew him to be, which forbade belief in so low-grade a manner of action as the use of poison. he held out his hand for the pellets and swallowed them without a word. a slight inclination of the head showed the donor's acceptance of the fact that he was trusted. "now, my lad," he said. "i think you ought to tell me something about yourself, and what you were doing in the citadel. you asked me to save you from manuel, and i have done so. perhaps i have been hasty. but, in honor bound, you must tell me what you know and what you heard." through stuart's veins, the blood was beginning to course full and free. the pellets which cecil had given him--whatever they were--removed his fatigue as though it had been a cloak. they loosened the boy's tongue, also, and freely he told the englishman all his affairs save for his cause in pursuing manuel, which he regarded as a personal matter. he mentioned the only words he had overheard, while watching in the ruined citadel and explained that the taunting of leborge by manuel, during the conference, had been only a ruse to provoke trouble, the cuban hoping that the boy would shoot. "and what general impression did you get from the meeting?" cecil queried. the boy hesitated, fearing to enrage his questioner. "well," he blurted out, "if i must say it, i think that you're plotting a revolution in this country, putting leborge up as president, letting manuel run the country, driving the united states clean out of it, and giving you the chance to take all sorts of commercial concessions for yourself." the englishman nodded his head. "for a guess," he declared, "your idea is not half bad. evidently, you have plenty of imagination. the only trouble with your summing up of the situation, my boy, is that it is wrong in every particular. if you did not learn any more than that from the conference, your information is quite harmless. i suppose i can count on your never mentioning this meeting?" stuart thought for a moment. "no," he said, "i can't promise that." the englishman lifted his eyebrows slightly. "and why?" stuart found it difficult to say why. he had a feeling that to swear silence would, in a sense, make him a party to the conspiracy, whatever it might be. "i--i've got it in for manuel," he said lamely, though conscious, as he said it, that the reply would not satisfy. cecil looked at him through narrowed eyelids. "i suppose you know that i would have no scruples in shooting you if you betrayed us," he remarked. stuart looked up. "i don't know it," he answered. "manuel or leborge might do it, but i think you'd have a lot of scruples in shooting an unarmed boy." "surely you can't expect me to save your life merely to run my own neck in a noose?" "that's as good as admitting that what you're doing might run your neck into a noose," commented stuart shrewdly, if a little imprudently. "all right. but you must play fair. i have helped you. in honor, you can't turn that help against me." it was a definite deadlock. the boy realized that, while the englishman was not likely to put a bullet through his head, as either manuel or leborge would have done, he was none the less likely to arrange affairs so that there would be no chance for talk. haitian prisons were deathtraps. also cecil's declaration that an abuse of kindness would be dishonorable had a great deal of weight with the boy. his father had taught him the fine quality of straight dealing. "look here, sir," he said, after a pause. "you said that i hadn't got the right idea as to what you three were doing." "you haven't." "then i can't betray it, that's sure! i'll promise, if you like, that, if i do ever find out the whole truth about this plot, and if it's something which, as an american, i oughtn't to let go by, i won't make any move in it until i know you've been warned in plenty of time. if it isn't, i'll say nothing. there's no reason why i should get leborge or you in trouble. it's manuel i'm after." "if you'll promise that," said cecil, "i fancy i can afford to let you go. i don't want you with me, anyway, for that cuban dog would be sure that you had betrayed him to me, and he would suppose that i was going to betray him in turn. i'll land you in cuba, and if you take my advice, you'll keep away from haiti. it isn't healthy--for you." having thus settled stuart's fate to his own satisfaction, cecil climbed a little distance up the tree, caught the ropes of the parachute, and with much hauling, assisted by stuart, he pulled the wreckage down and thrust it under a bush. "the weather and the ants will make short work of that," he commented. "there won't be much of it left but the ribs in a week. and now, lad, we'll strike for the coast." though there seemed to stuart no way of telling where they were, cecil took a definite course through the jungle. they scrambled over and through the twisted tangle of undergrowth, creepers and lianas, and, in less than an hour, reached a small foot-path, bearing north-westward. "i don't know this path," the englishman remarked frankly, "but it's going in the direction i want, any way." a little later, he commented, "i fancy this leads to a village," and struck out into the jungle for a detour. on the further side of the village, he remarked, "i know where i am, now," and, thereafter, made no further comment upon the route. he talked very interestingly, however, about the insects, flowers and trees by the way, and, when dark came on, taught stuart more about the stars than he had learned in all his years of schooling. they walked steadily without a halt for food, even, from the late afternoon when the parachute had hit the trees, until about an hour after sunrise the next morning, when the faint trail that they had lately been following, suddenly came to an end on the bank of a narrow river, hardly more than a creek. putting a tiny flat instrument between his teeth, cecil blew a shriek so shrill that it hurt stuart's ears. it was repeated from a distance, almost immediately. five minutes later the boy heard the "chug-chug" of a motor boat, and a small craft of racing pattern glided up to the bank. "got a passenger, andy," he said to the sole occupant of the boat. "food for fishes?" came the grim query, in reply. "not yet; not this time, anyway. no, we'll just put him ashore at cuba and see if he knows how to mind his own business." the motor boat engineer grumbled under his breath. he was evidently not a man for half-measures. the blood of the old buccaneers ran in his veins. it was evident, though, that cecil was master. the two men aboard, andy turned the head of the motor boat down the river and out to sea, shooting past the short water-front of the little village of plaine du nord at a bewildering speed. the creoles had barely time to realize that there was something on the water before it was gone out of sight. despite its speed--which was in the neighborhood of thirty-two knots--the motor boat was built for sea use, and it ran along the coast of the haitian north peninsula, past le borgne and st. louis de nord, like a scared dolphin. arriving near port-de-paix, it hugged the shore of the famous lair of the buccaneers, isle de tortugas, and thence struck for the open sea. "tortugas!" commented cecil, pointing to the rocky shores of the islet. "that's where all the pirates came from, wasn't it?" queried stuart, eager to break the silence of the journey. "pirates? no. the pirate haunts were more to the north. it was the stronghold of the buccaneers." "i always thought pirates and buccaneers were the same thing," put in the boy. "far from it. originally the buccaneers were hunters, and their name comes from _boucan_, a word meaning dried flesh. they hunted wild cattle and wild pigs on that island over there." "haiti?" "it was called hispaniola, then. the spanish owned it, but had only a few settlements on the coast. the population was largely carib, a savage race given to cannibalism. there seems little reason to doubt that even if the buccaneers did not actually smoke and cure human flesh, as the caribs did, they traded in it and ate it themselves." "were the buccaneers spaniards?" queried stuart. "no. french to begin with, and afterwards, many english joined them. that was just where the whole bloody business began. france protected the buccaneers, sent them aid and ammunition; even their famous guns--known as 'buccaneering pieces' and four and a half feet long--were all made in france. there was a steady demand for smoked meat and hides, and france was only too ready to get these from a spanish colony without payment of any dues thereon. "at the beginning of the seventeenth century the buccaneers--at that time only hunters--settled in small groups on the island of hispaniola. such a policy was dangerous. time after time parties of spanish soldiery raided the settlements, killing most of the hunters and putting the prisoners to the torture. in desperation, the buccaneers decided to abandon hispaniola. they united their forces and sailed to the island of st. kitts, nominally in the hands of spain, but then inhabited only by caribs. "the french government at once extended its protection to st. kitts, thus practically seizing it from spain and claimed it as a possession. great britain agreed to support france in this illegal seizure and thus the little colony of st. kitts was held safe under both french and english governments, which actually supported the hunting ventures of the buccaneers, and winked at the piratic raids which generally formed a part of the buccaneering expeditions. "but it was not to be expected that the spanish would keep still under the continual pillage of these plundering hunters. the dons undertook to destroy the small vessels in which the buccaneers sailed and, before three years had passed, fully one-half of the buccaneers sailing from st. kitts had been savagely slaughtered. these outrages prompted reprisals from the english and the french and thus the privateers came into the field." "what's a privateer?" queried stuart. "i was just about to tell you," answered cecil. "a privateer on the caribbean and the spanish main, in those days, was a man who had sufficient money or sufficient reputation to secure a ship and a crew with which to wage war against the enemies of his country. as his own government had given nothing but permission to his venture, it gained nothing but glory from it. the privateer had the right to all the booty and plunder he could secure by capturing an enemy's ship, or raiding an enemy's settlement. the plunder was divided among the crew. thus, a lucky voyage, in which, for example, a spanish treasure-ship was captured, would make every member of the crew rich. some of these privateers, after one or so prosperous voyages, settled down and became wealthy planters. the great sir francis drake, on several of his voyages, went as a privateer." "and i suppose the governments gained, by having a fleet of vessels doing their fighting, for which they needn't pay," commented the boy. "exactly. in a way, this was fair enough. the privateer took his chance, and, whether he won or lost, he was, at least, fighting for his country. but there were other men, unable to secure ships, and who could not obtain letters-of-marque from their governments, to whom loot and plunder seemed an easy way of gaining riches. some of these were men from the crews of privateers that had disbanded, some were buccaneers. they claimed the same rights as privateers but differed in this--that they would attack any ship or settlement and plunder it at will. at first they confined themselves to small spanish settlements only, but, later, their desires increased, and neutral ships and inoffensive villages were attacked. "in order to put a stop to the raids of the buccaneering hunters, the spaniards planned an organized destruction of all the wild cattle on hispaniola, hoping thus to drive the ravagers away. it was a false move. the result of it was to turn the buccaneers into sea-rovers on an independent basis, ready for plunder and murder anywhere and everywhere. at this period they were called filibusters, but, a little later, the word 'buccaneer' came to be used for the whole group of privateers, filibusters and hunters. "the fury of both sides increased. so numerous and powerful did these sea-rovers become that all trade was cut off. neutral vessels, even if in fleets, were endangered. with the cutting off of trade by sea, there was no longer any plunder for the rovers and from this cause came about the famous land expeditions, such as the sack of maracaibo by lolonnois the cruel, and the historic capture of panama by morgan. large cities were taken and held to ransom. organized raids were made, accompanied by murder and rapine. the gallantry of privateering was degenerating into the bloody brutality of piracy. "in , a small group of french buccaneer hunters had left st. kitts and, seeking a base nearer to hispaniola, had attacked the little island of tortugas, on which the spanish had left a garrison of only twenty-five men. every one of the spaniards were killed. the buccaneers took possession, found the harbor to be excellent, and the soil of the island exceedingly fertile. as a buccaneer base, it was ideal. filibusters saw the value of a base so close to spanish holdings, realized the impregnability of the harbor and flocked thither. privateers put in and brought their prizes. tortugas began to prosper. in the spaniards, taking advantage of a time when several large expeditions of buccaneers were absent, raided the place in force and shot, hanged, or tortured to death, every man, woman and child they captured. only a few of the inhabitants escaped by hiding among the rocks. but the spanish did not dare to leave a garrison. "the buccaneers got together and under willis, an englishman, reoccupied the island. although willis was english, the greater part of the buccaneers with him were french and they gladly accepted a suggestion from the governor-general at st. kitts to send a governor to tortugas. in governor poincy succeeded in securing possession of the isle of tortugas for the crown of france. thus, having a shadow of protection thrown around it, and being afforded the widest latitude of conduct by its governor--who fully realized that it was nothing but a nest of pirates--tortugas flamed into a mad prosperity. "that little desert island yonder became the wildest and most abandoned place that the world probably has ever seen. sea-rovers, slave-runners, filibusters, pirates, red-handed ruffians of every variety on land or sea made it their port of call. everything could be bought there; everything sold. there was a market for all booty and every article--even captured white people for slaves--was exposed for sale. an adventurer could engage a crew of cut-throats at half-an-hour's notice. a plot to murder a thousand people in cold blood would be but street talk. every crime which could be imagined by a depraved and gore-heated brain was of daily occurrence. it was a sink of iniquity. "after france had taken possession of tortugas, it came about quite naturally that the french buccaneers found themselves better treated in that port than the english filibusters or the dutch sea-rovers. almost immediately, therefore, the english drew away, and established their buccaneer base in other islands, notably jamaica, of which island the notorious adventurer and pirate, sir henry morgan, became governor. "the steady rise of dutch power, bringing about the dutch war of , brought about a serious menace against the english power, increased when, in , france joined hands with holland. peace was signed in . in the next thirty years, four local west indian wars broke out, the grouping of the powers differing. all parties also sought to control the trade across the isthmus of panama, and there was great rivalry in the slave trade. during this period, privateers and buccaneers ceased to attack spanish settlements only, and raided settlements belonging to any other country than their own. during the various short intervals of peace between these wars, the several treaties had become more and more stringent against the buccaneers. when, therefore, in , the treaty of ryswick brought peace between england, france, holland and spain, it ended the period of the buccaneer." "i don't quite see why," put in stuart, a little puzzled. "for this reason. the buccaneers had not only existed in spite of international law, they had even possessed a peculiar status as a favored and protected group. the treaty put an end to that protection. sea-fighting thereafter was to be confined to the navies of the powers, and the true privateers and sea-rovers roved the seas no more." "but how about the pirates--'blackbeard' teach, capt. kidd, 'bloody' roberts and all the rest?" queried stuart. "they were utterly different in type and habits from the buccaneers," explained cecil. "after the treaty of ryswick, piracy became an international crime. a harbor belonging to one of the powers could no longer give anchorage to a pirate craft. markets could no longer openly deal in loot and plunder. "those freebooters who had learned to live by pillage, and who thus had become outlaws of the sea, were compelled to find some uninhabited island for a refuge. they made their new headquarters at the island of new providence, one of the bahamas. with buccaneering ended, and piracy in process of suppression by all the naval powers, the reason for tortugas' importance was gone. it dwindled and sank until now it is a mere rocky islet with a few acres under cultivation, and that is all. i know it well. much treasure is said to be buried there, but no one has ever found it. don't waste your time looking for it, boy. you will keep away from this part of the world if you know what is good for you!" with which menace, the englishman fell silent, and stuart felt it wiser to refrain from disturbing him. even over a copiously filled lunch basket, the three in the boat munched, without a word exchanged. at dusk they ran into a small cove at the easternmost end of the northern coast of cuba, not far from baracoa, the oldest city in cuba and its first capital, where columbus, narvaez, cortes and others of the great characters of history, played their first parts in the new world. under the shadow of anvil mountain, the motor boat ran up to a little wharf, almost completely hidden in greenery, and there cecil and the boy landed. stuart did not fail to observe that the motor boat engineer needed no directions as to the place of landing. evidently this cove was familiar. on going ashore, without a word of explanation to the boy, cecil led the way to a small hut, not far from the beach. when, in response to a knock, the door opened, he said, in spanish: "ignacio, this american boy is going to havana. you will see that he does not get lost on the way!" "si, senor," was the only reply, the fisherman--for so he appeared--evincing no surprise at the sudden appearance of cecil at his door, nor at his abrupt command. this absence of surprise or question was the strongest possible proof of the extent of the englishman's power, and stuart found himself wondering to what extent this conspirator's web extended over the west indies. a phrase or two, when they were walking together through the jungle, after the parachute descent, had shown stuart that the englishman was especially well acquainted with the flora and fauna of jamaica. he must possess powerful friends in haiti, or he could never have reached the citadel, to arrive at which point both manuel and leborge had been compelled to employ tortuous methods, even to disguise. the motor boat awaiting him in the haitian jungle showed an uncanny knowledge of that locality. he had mentioned that he knew the isle of tortugas. he was evidently known on the cuban coast. this plot, whatever it might be, was assuredly of far-reaching importance, if one of the plotters found it necessary to weave a web that embraced all the nearby islands. "i'm glad i didn't promise not to tell about it," muttered the boy, as he watched cecil stride away without even a word of farewell, "for i miss my guess if there isn't something brewing to make trouble for the united states." chapter vi a cuban rebel stuart stood with the supposed fisherman at the door of the hut until the throbbing of the motor boat's engine had died away in the distance. then, american fashion, he turned to the brown-skinned occupant with an air of authority. "who is this man cecil?" he asked. the phrase began boldly, but as he caught the other's glance, the last couple of words dragged. brown-skinned this fisherman might be, but the dark eyes were keen and appraising. stuart, who was no fool, realized that his new host--or, was it captor?--was more than he seemed. at the same time, the boy remembered that he was in rags and that his own skin was stained brown. yet the fisherman answered his question courteously. "does not the young senor know him? senor cecil is an englishman, and wealthy." "but what does he do?" persisted stuart. the other shrugged his shoulders. "can anyone tell what wealthy englishmen do?" he queried. "they are all a little mad." the boy held his tongue. this evasive reply was evidence enough that he would not secure any information by questioning. also, stuart realized that anyone whom the englishman trusted was not likely to be loose-mouthed. "senor cecil said you were an american," the fisherman continued, "he meant by that----" "probably he meant that he knew i'd like to get this brown off my skin," declared stuart, realizing that his disguise was unavailing now. "have you any soap-weed root?" the cuban bent his head and motioned the boy to enter the hut. it was small and clean, but did not have the atmosphere of use. stuart guessed that probably it was only employed as a blind and wondered how his host had come to know of the arrival of the motor boat. then, remembering that the sound of the motor boat's engine had been heard for several moments, as it departed from the cove, he thought that perhaps the noise of the "chug-chug" would be a sufficient signal of its coming, for, surely, no other motor boats would have any reason for entering so hidden a place. "if the young senor will add a few drops from this bottle to the water," commented his host, "the stain will come out quicker." stuart stared at the man. the suggestion added to the strangeness of the situation. the presence of chemicals in a fisherman's hut tallied with the boy's general idea that this man must hold a post of some importance in the plot. but he made no comment. while he was scrubbing himself thoroughly, so that his skin might show white once more, the fisherman prepared a simple but hearty meal. his ablutions over, stuart sat down to the table with great readiness, for, though he had joined cecil in a cold snack on the motor boat, the boy had passed through thirty-six hours of the most trying excitement, since his departure from millot the morning of the day before. the food was good and plentiful, and when stuart had stowed away all he could hold, drowsiness came over him, and his head began to nod. "when do we go to bed?" he asked with a yawn. the fisherman motioned to a string-bed in the corner. "whenever the young senor wishes," was the reply. "and you?" "did you not hear senor cecil say that i was to be sure you did not get lost?" he smiled. "you might have dreams, senor, and walk in your sleep. when senor cecil says 'watch!' one stays awake." at the same time, with a deft movement, he pinioned stuart's arms, and searched him thoroughly, taking away his revolver and pocket knife. no roughness was shown, but the searching was done in a businesslike manner, and stuart offered no resistance. as a matter of fact, he was too sleepy, and even the bravest hero might be cowed if he were fairly dropping for weariness. stuart obediently sought the string-bed, and, a few seconds later, was fast asleep. it was daylight when he awoke. breakfast was on the table and the boy did as much justice to the breakfast as he had to the supper. with rest, his spirits and energy had returned, but he was practically helpless without his revolver. besides, on this desolate bit of beach on the eastern end of cuba, even if he could escape from his captor, he would be marooned. such money as the boy possessed was secreted in cap haitien, most of his friends lived in western cuba. if this fisherman were indeed to aid him to get to havana, nothing would suit him better. all through the meal he puzzled over the fisherman's rough mode of life, and yet his perfect spanish and courtly manners. "if the young senor will accompany me to the stable?" suggested his host, when the meal was over, the mild words being backed by an undertone of considerable authority. stuart would have liked to protest, for he was feeling chipper and lively, but, just as he was about to speak, he remembered andy's remark, on board the motor boat, about "food for fishes." probably cecil's allies were ready for any kind of bloodshed, and the boy judged that he would be wise to avoid trouble. he followed without a word. the stables were of good size and well kept, out of all proportion to the hut, confirming stuart's suspicion that a house of some pretensions was hidden in the forest nearby. a fairly good horse was hitched to a stoutly-built light cart and the journey began. the driver took a rarely traveled trail, but, at one point, an opening in the trees showed a snug little town nestling by a landlocked harbor of unusual beauty. "what place is that?" queried stuart, though not expecting a response. to his surprise, the driver answered promptly. "that, senor," he said, "is baracoa, the oldest town in cuba, and the only one that tourists seldom visit." whereupon, breaking a long silence, vellano--for so he had given his name to stuart--proceeded to tell the early history of eastern cuba with a wealth of imagery and a sense of romance that held the boy spellbound. he told of the peaceful arawaks, the aboriginal inhabitants of the greater antilles, agriculturists and eaters of the cassava plant, growers and weavers of cotton, even workers of gold. he told of the invasion of the meat-eating and cannibal caribs from the lesser antilles, of the wars between the arawaks and caribs, and of the hostility between the two races when columbus first landed on the island. he told of the enslavement of the peaceful arawaks by the spaniards, and of the savage massacres by caribs upon the earliest spanish settlements. from that point vellano broke into a song of praise of the gallantry of the early spanish adventurers and conquerors, the conquistadores of the west indies, who carried the two banners of "christianity" and "civilization" to the islands of the caribbean sea. he lamented the going of the spaniards, took occasion to fling reproach at france for her maladministration and loss of haiti, and, as stuart was careful to observe, he praised england and holland as colonizing countries as heartily as he condemned the united states for her ignorance of colonization problems. this fitted in exactly with stuart's opinion of the plot of which cecil was the head. here, in vellano, was an underling--or another conspirator, as it might be--favorable to england, resentful of the united states, and probably in a spirit of revolt against existing conditions in his own country. the boy decided to test this out by bringing up the subject a little later in the journey. presently the road turned to the westward, following the valley of the toa river. duala, bernardo and morales were passed, the road climbing all the time, the mountain ranges of santa de moa and santa verde rising sentinel-like on either side. the trail was obviously one for the saddle rather than for a cart, but stuart rightly guessed that vellano was afraid that his captive might escape if he had a separate mount. they stayed that night at a small, but well-kept house, hidden in the forests. the owner seemed to be a simple guarijo or cultivator, but was very hospitable. yet, when stuart, tossing restlessly in the night, chanced to open his eyes, he saw the guarijo sitting near his bed, smoking cigarettes, and evidently wide awake and watching. it was clear that he was keeping guard while vellano slept. certainly, the englishman had no need to complain that his orders were unheeded! taking up the way, next morning, the road became little more than a trail, through forests as dense as the haitian jungle. the guarijo walked ahead of them with his machete, clearing away the undergrowth sufficiently for the horse and cart to get through. from time to time, velanno took his place with the machete and the guarijo sat beside the boy. never for a moment was stuart left alone. it was a wild drive. the trail threaded its way between great ceiba trees, looming weird and gigantic with their buttressed trunks, all knotted and entwined with hanging lianas and curiously hung with air plants dropping from the branches. gay-colored birds flashed in the patches of sunlight that filtered through the trees. the cuban boa-constrictor or maja, big and cowardly, wound its great length away, and the air was full of the rich--and not always pleasant--insect life characteristic of the cuban eastern forests. approaching san juan de la caridad, the trail widened. machete work being no longer necessary, the guarijo was enabled to return, which he did with scarcely more than an "adios" to vellano. the trail now skirted the edges of deep ravines and hung dizzily on the borders of precipices of which the sharply and deeply cut maestra mountains are so full. the forest was a little more open. thanks to the information given him by cecil during their walk through the haitian jungle, after the parachute descent, stuart recognized mahogany, lignum vitae, granadilla, sweet cedar, logwood, sandalwood, red sanders and scores of other hardwood trees of the highest commercial value, standing untouched. passing an unusually fine clump of cuban mahogany, stuart turned to his companion with the exclamation: "there must be millions of dollars' worth of rare woods, here!" "cuba is very rich," came the prompt reply, coupled with the grim comment, "but cubans very poor." "they are poor," agreed stuart, "and in this part of the island they seem a lot poorer than in the pinar plains, where i lived before. why? here, nine out of every ten of the guarijos we've seen, live like hogs in a sty. most of the huts we've passed aren't fit for human beings to live in. why is it?" stuart had expected, and, as it turned out, rightly, that this opening would give vellano the opportunity to express himself on cuban conditions as he saw them. stuart was eager for this, for he wanted to find out where his companion stood, and hoped to find out whether he was ripe for revolt. but he was surprised at the bitterness and vehemence of the protest. "ah! the rats that gnaw at the people!" vellano cried. "the rats that hold political jobs and grow fat! the government rats who care for nothing except to make and collect taxes to keep the people poor! the job-holders of this political party, or that political party, or the other political party! what are they? rats, all! tax-rats! "why do the guarijos live like hogs in a sty? the rats ordain it. it is the taxes, all on account of the taxes. consider! all this land you see, all undeveloped land, belonging, it may be, to only a few wealthy people, pays no tax, no tax at all. but if a man wishes to make a living, settles on the ground and begins to cultivate it, that day, yes, that hour, the owner will demand a high rent. and why will he ask this rent? because, young senor, as soon as land is cultivated, the government puts a high tax on it. the rats punish the farmers for improving the country. "what happens? i can tell you what happens in this province of oriente. in the province of camaguey, too. the small farmer finds a piece of good land. he settles on it--what you americans call 'squatting'--and, if he is wise, he says nothing to the owner. perhaps he will not be found out for a year or two, perhaps more, but, when he is found, he must pay a big rent and the owner a big tax. perhaps the guarijo cannot pay. then he must go away. "generally he goes. in some other corner, hidden away, he finds another piece of land. he squats on that, too, hoping that the tax-rats may not find him. he does not cultivate much land, for he may be driven off next day. he does not build a decent house, for he may have to abandon it before the week's end. "suppose he does really wish to rent land, build a house and have a small plantation, and is willing to pay the rent, however high it be. why then, young senor, he will learn that it will be many years before he finds out whether the man to whom he is paying the rent is really the owner of the land. and if he wishes to buy, it is worse than a lottery. in this part of the island no surveys have been made--except a circular survey with no edges marked--and land titles are all confused. then the lawyer-rats thrive." "it's not like that near havana," put in stuart. "havana is not cuba. only three kinds of people live in havana: the rats, the tourists, and the people who live off the rats and the tourists. they spend, and cuba suffers. "for the land tax, senor, is not all! nearly all the money that the government spends--that the rats waste--comes from the tax on imports. no grain is grown in cuba, and there is no clothing industry. all our food and all our clothes are imported, and it is the guarijo who, at the last, must pay that tax. young senor, did you know that, per head of population, the poor cuban is taxed for the necessities of life imported into this island three and a half times as much as the rich american is taxed for the goods entering the united states? "even that is not all. here, in cuba, we grow sugar, tobacco, pineapples, and citrus fruit, like oranges, grapefruit and lemons. does america, which made us a republic, help us? no, young senor, it hurts us, hinders us, cripples us. in hawaii, in porto rico, in the southern part of the united states, live our sugar, tobacco and fruit competitors. their products enter american markets without tax. ours are taxed. what happens? cuba, one of the most fertile islands of the west indies is poor. the cuban cultivator, who is willing to be a hard worker, gives up the fight in disgust and either tries in some way to get the dollars from the americans who come here, or else he helps to ruin his country by getting a political job." stuart, listening carefully to this criticism, noticed in vellano's voice a note of hatred whenever he used the word "american." connecting this with his own suspicion that cecil was head of a conspiracy against the united states and that this supposed fisherman was evidently the englishman's tool, he asked, casually: "then you don't think that the united states did a good thing in freeing cuba from spain?" he hazarded. to the boy's surprise, his companion burst out approvingly. "yes, yes, a magnificent thing! but they did not know it, and they did not know why! the americans thought they were championing an oppressed people struggling for justice. nothing of the sort. they took the side of one party struggling for jobs against another party struggling for jobs. but the result was magnificent. under the last american military governor, leonard wood, cuba advanced more in two years than she had in two centuries. when the americans went away, though, it was worse than if they had never come. cubans did not make cuba a republic, americans made cuba a republic and then abandoned us. of course, confusion followed. and in the revolution of and other revolutions, the americans meddled, and yet did nothing. it is idle to deny that american influence is strong here! but what does it amount to? we are neither really free, nor really possessed." "but what do you want?" queried stuart. "i don't seem to understand. you don't want to be a possession of spain, you don't want to be an american colony, and you don't want to be a republic. what do you want?" "do i know?" came the vehement reply. "does anyone in cuba know? does anyone, anywhere, know? remember, young senor, the cuban guarijo does not feel himself to be a citizen of cuba, as an american farmer feels himself a citizen of the united states. he has been brought up under spanish rule, and is, himself, spanish in feeling. "what does he know about a republic? unless he can get a political job for himself, unless he sees the chance to be a rat, he cares nothing about politics, but he will fight, at any time, under any cause, for any leader who will promise him a bigger price for his sugar, his tobacco or his fruit. the world war helped him, for sugar was worth gold. but now--if the cuban wishes to say anything to america, he must do it through the sugar trust, the tobacco trust or the fruit trust. "what!" vellano flamed out, "the united states will not answer us when we pray, nor listen when we speak? then we will make her hear!" upon which, suddenly realizing that in this direct threat he might have said too much, vellano dropped the subject. nothing that stuart could suggest would tempt him to say anything more. the boy had been brought up in cuba, and, though he had never been in this eastern part of the island, he knew that a great deal of what his companion had said was true. at the same time, he realized that vellano had not done justice to the modern improvements in cuba, to the extension of the railroads, the building of highways, the improvement of port facilities, the establishment of sugar refineries, the spread of foreign agricultural colonies, the improved sanitation and water supply and the development of the island under foreign capital. it was as foolish, stuart realized, for vellano to judge all cuba from the wild forest-land of oriente as it is for the casual tourist to judge the whole of cuba from the casinos of havana. cuba is not small. averaging the width of the state of new jersey, it stretches as far as the distance from new york to indianapolis. its eastern and western ends are entirely different. originally they were two islands, now joined by a low plain caused by the rising of the sea-bottom. climate, soil and the character of the people vary extremely in the several provinces. high mountains alternate with low plains, dense tropical forests are bordered by wastes and desert palm-barrens. eighty per cent of the population are cubans--which mean spanish and negro half-breeds with a touch of indian blood, and of all shades of color--fifteen per cent spanish and less than two per cent american. foreign colonies are numerous, though small. they are to be found in all the provinces, and exhibit these same extremes. about one-half have sunk to a desolation of misery and ruin, one-half have risen to success. as stuart once remembered his father having said: "i will never advise an american, with small capital, to come to cuba. if he will devote the same amount of work to a piece of land in the united states that he will have to give to the land here, he will be more prosperous, for what he may lose in the lesser fertility of the land, he will gain by the nearness of the market. there are scores of derelicts in this island who would have led happy and useful lives in the united states." crossing the hills--by a trail which threatened to shake the cart to pieces at every jolt--the two travelers reached palenquito, and thence descended by a comparatively good road to vesa grande and on to rio seco. a mile or so out of the town, stuart saw the gleaming lines of the railway and realized that this was to be the end of the long drive. "i have no money for a trip to havana!" he remarked. "that is a pity," answered vellano gravely, who, since he had searched the boy's pockets, knew that only a few dollars were to be found therein, "but senor cecil said you were to go to havana. therefore, you will go." there seemed no reply to this, but stuart noted that, at the station, the supposed fisherman produced money enough for two tickets. "are you coming, too?" queried stuart, in surprise. "senor cecil said that i was to see that you did not get lost on the way," came the quiet answer. certainly, stuart thought, the englishman's word was a word of power. from rio seco, the train passed at first through heavy tropical forests, such as those in the depths of which vellano and stuart had just driven, but these were thinned near the railroad by lumbering operations. the main line was joined a little distance west of guantanamo. thence they traveled over the high plateau land of central oriente and camaguey, on which many foreign colonies have settled, the train only occasionally touching the woeful palm barrens which stretch down from the northern coast. vellano, who seemed singularly well informed, kept up a running fire of comment all the way, most of his utterances being colored by a resentment of existing conditions--for which he blamed the united states--and containing a vague hint of some great change to come. at ciego de avila, where a stay of a couple of hours was made, stuart's companion pointed out the famous _trocha_ or military barrier which had been erected by the spaniards as a protection against the movements of cuban insurgents, and which ran straight across the whole island. this barrier was a clearing, half-a-mile wide; a narrow-gauge railway ran along its entire length, as did also a high barbed-wire fence. every two-thirds of a mile, small stone forts had been built. each of these was twenty feet square, with a corrugated iron tower above, equipped with a powerful searchlight. the forts themselves were pierced with loopholes for rifle fire and the only entrance was by a door twelve feet above ground, impossible of entrance after the ladder had been drawn up from within. the forts were connected by a telephone line. they have all fallen into ruins and are half swallowed up by the jungle, while the half mile clearing is being turned into small sugar plantations. beyond ciego, the train passed again through a zone of tropical forest lands and then dropped into the level plains of santa clara, the center of the sugar industry of cuba. from there it bore northward toward matanzas, through a belt of bristling pineapple fields. one station before arriving at havana, stuart's companion, who showed signs of fatigue--which were not surprising since he had wakened at every stop that the train had made during the night to see that the boy did not get off--prepared to alight. "you're not going on to havana?" queried stuart. "i shall step off the train here after it has started," replied vellano. "there will be no opportunity for you to do the same until the train stops at the capital. senor cecil said only that i was to see that you did not get lost on the way. he said nothing about what you should do in havana. possibly he has plans of his own." the train began to move. "adios, young senor," quoth the supposed fisherman, and dropped off the train. during the long train trip, and especially when lying awake in his berth, stuart had plenty of time to recall the events of the four days since he first met manuel on the streets of cap haitien and had offered himself as a guide to the citadel of the black emperor. much had passed since then, and this period of inaction gave the boy time to view the events in their proper perspective. the more he thought of them, the more serious they appeared and the more stuart became convinced that the plot was directed against united states authority in haiti. perhaps, also, it would attack american commercial interests in cuba. as the train approached havana, stuart worked himself up into a fever of anxiety, and, the instant the train stopped, he dashed out of the carriage and into the streets feeling that he, and he alone, could save the united states from an international tragedy. chapter vii a nose for news through the maze of the older streets of havana, with their two-story houses plastered and colored in gay tints, stuart rushed, regardlessly. he knew havana, but, even if he had not known it, the boy's whole soul was set on getting the ear of the united states consul. it was not until he was almost at the door of the consulate that his promise to cecil recurred to him as a reminder that he must be watchful how he spoke. at the door of the consulate, however, he found difficulty of admission. this was to be expected. his appearance was unprepossessing. he was still attired in the ragged clothes tied up with string, and the aged boots he had got leon to procure for him, to complete his disguise as a haitian boy. moreover, while the soap-weed wash at the fisherman's hut had whitened his skin, his face and hands still retained a smoky pallor which would take some time to wear off. in order to gain admission at all, stuart was compelled to give some hint as to his reasons for wishing to see the consul, and, as he did not wish to divulge anything of importance to the clerk, his explanation sounded as extravagant as it was vague. his father's name would have helped him, but stuart did not feel justified in using it. for all he knew, his father might have reasons for not wishing to be known as conducting any such investigations. this compulsion of reserve confused the lad, and it was not surprising that the clerk went into the vice-consul's office with the remark: "there's a ragged boy out here, who passes for white, with some wild-eyed story he says he has to tell you." "i suppose i've got to see him," said the harassed official. "send him in!" this introduction naturally prejudiced the vice-consul against his visitor, and stuart's appearance did not call for confidence. moreover, the boy's manner was against him. he was excited and resentful over his brusque treatment by the clerk. boy-like, he exaggerated his own importance. he was bursting with his subject. in his embarrassed eagerness to capture the vice-consul's attention and to offset the unhappy first impression of his appearance, stuart blurted out an incoherent story about secret meetings, and buried treasure and conspiracy, and plots in haiti, all mixed together. his patriotic utterances, though absolutely sincere, rang with a note of insincerity to an official to whom the letters "u. s." were not the "open sesame" of liberty, but endless repetitions of his daily routine. "what wild-cat yarn is this!" came the interrupting remark. stuart stopped, hesitated and looked bewildered. it had not occurred to him that the consular official would not be as excited as himself. he spluttered exclamations. "there's a haitian, and a cuban, and an englishman in a conspiracy against the united states! and they meet in a haunted citadel! and one said i was to kill the other! and i got away in a parachute. and they're going to do something, revolution, i believe, and----" undoubtedly, if the vice-consul had been willing to listen, and patient enough to calm the boy's excitement and unravel the story, its value would have been apparent. but his skeptical manner only threw stuart more off his balance. the vice-consul was, by temperament, a man of routine, an efficient official but lacking in imagination. besides, it was almost the end of office hours, and the day had been hot and sultry. he was only half-willing to listen. "tell your story, straight, from the beginning," he snapped. stuart tried to collect himself a little. "it was the night of the full moon," he began, dramatically. "there was a voodoo dance, and the tom-tom began to beat, and----" this was too much! "you've been seeing too many movies, or reading dime-novel trash," the official flung back. "besides, this isn't the place to come to. go and tell your troubles to the consul at port-au-prince." he rang to have the boy shown out. the next visitor to the vice-consul, who had been cooling his heels in the outer office while stuart was vainly endeavoring to tell his story, was the special correspondent of a new york paper. it was his habit to drop in from time to time to see the vice-consul and to get the latest official news to be cabled to his paper. "i wish you'd been here half-an-hour ago, dinville, and saved me from having to listen to a blood-and-thunder yarn about pirates and plots and revolutions and the deuce knows what!" the official exclaimed petulantly. "from that kid who just went out?" queried the newspaper man casually, nosing a story, but not wanting to seem too eager. "yes, the little idiot! you'd think, from the way he talked, that the west indies was just about ready to blow up!" his bile thus temporarily relieved, the official turned to the matter in hand, and proceeded to give out such items of happenings at the consulate as would be of interest to the general public. the newspaper man made his stay as brief as he decently could. he wanted to trace that boy. finding out from the clerk that the boy had come in from the east by train, and, having noted for himself that the lad was in rags, the special correspondent--an old-time new york reporter--felt sure that the holder of the story must be hungry and that he did not have much money. accordingly, he searched the nearest two or three cheap restaurants, and, sure enough, found stuart in the third one he entered. ordering a cup of coffee and some pastry, the reporter seated himself at stuart's table and deftly got into conversation with him. inventing, for the moment, a piece of news which would turn the topic to haiti, dinville succeeding in making the boy tell him, as though by accident, that he had recently been in haiti. "so!" exclaimed the reporter. "well, you seem to be a pretty keen observer. what did you think of things in haiti when you left?" stuart was flattered--as what boy would not have been--by this suggestion that his political opinions were of importance, and he gave himself all the airs of a grown-up, as he voiced his ideas. many of them were of real value, for, unconsciously, stuart was quoting from the material he had found in his father's papers, when he had rescued them from hippolyte. dinville led him on, cautiously, tickling his vanity the while, and, before the meal was over, stuart felt that he had found a friend. he accepted an invitation to go up to the news office, so that his recently made acquaintance might take some notes of his ideas. the news-gatherer had not been a reporter for nothing, and, before ten minutes had passed stuart suddenly realized that he was on the verge of telling the entire story, even to those things which he knew must be held back. cecil's warning recurred to him, and he pulled up short. "i guess i hadn't better say any more," he declared, suddenly, and wondered how much he had betrayed himself into telling. persuasion and further flattery failed, and the newspaper man saw that he must change his tactics. "you were willing enough to talk to the vice-consul," he suggested. "yes, but i wasn't going to tell him everything, either," the boy retorted. "you're not afraid to?" stuart's square chin protruded in its aggressive fashion. "afraid!" he declared contemptuously. then he paused, and continued, more slowly, "well, in a way, maybe i am afraid. i don't know all i've got hold of. why--it might sure enough bring on war!" once on his guard, stuart was as unyielding as granite. he feared he had said too much already. the reporter, shrewdly, suggested that some of stuart's political ideas might be saleable newspaper material, handed him a pencil and some copy-paper. the boy, again flattered by this subtle suggestion that he was a natural-born writer, covered sheet after sheet of the paper. dinville read it, corrected a few minor mistakes here and there, counted the words, and taking some money from his pocket, counted out a couple of bills and pushed them over to the boy. "what's this for?" asked stuart. "for the story!" answered the reporter in well-simulated surprise. "regular space rates, six dollars a column. i'm not allowed to give more, if that's what you mean." "oh, no!" was the surprised reply. "i just meant--i was ready to do that for nothing." "what for?" replied his new friend. "why shouldn't you be paid for it, just as well as anyone else? come in tomorrow, maybe we can dope out some other story together." a little more urging satisfied the rest of stuart's scruples and he walked out from the office into the streets of havana tingling with pleasure to his very toes. this was the first money he had ever earned and it fired him with enthusiasm to become a writer. as soon as he had left, the reporter looked over the sheets of copy-paper, covered with writing in a boyish hand. "not so bad," he mused. "the kid may be able to write some day," and--dropped the sheets into the waste-paper basket. why had he paid for them, then? dinville knew what he was about. he reached for a sheet of copy-paper and wrote the following dispatch-- whale - of - big - story. - informant - a - kid. - worth - sending - kid - new - york - paper's - expense - if - authorized. - dinville. he filed it in the cable office without delay. before midnight he got a reply. if - kid - has - the - goods - send - new - york - at - once. "here," said dinville aloud, as he read the cablegram, "is where little willie was a wise guy in buying that kid's story. he'll land in here tomorrow like a bear going to a honey-tree." his diagnosis was correct to the letter. early the next morning stuart came bursting in, full of importance. he had spruced up a little, though the four dollars he had got from dinville the night before was not sufficient for new clothes. "say," he said, the minute he entered the office, "mr. dinville, i've got a corker!" "so?" queried the reporter, lighting a cigar and putting his feet on the desk in comfortable attitude for listening. "fire away!" with avid enthusiasm, stuart plunged into a wild and woolly yarn which would have been looked upon with suspicion by the editor of a blood-and-thunder twenty-five-cent series. the reporter cut him off abruptly. "kid," he said dryly, "the newspaper game is on the level. i don't say that you don't have to give a twist to a story, every once in a while, so that it'll be interesting, but it's got to be news. "get this into your skull if you're ever going to be a newspaper man: every story you write has got to have happened, actually happened, to somebody, somewhere, at some place, at a certain time, for some reason. if it hasn't, it isn't a newspaper story. what's more, it must be either unusual or important, or it hasn't any value. again, it must have happened recently, or it isn't news. and there's another rule. one big story is worth more than a lot of small ones. "now, look here. you've got a big story, a real news story, up your sleeve. it happened to you. it occurred at an unusual place. it has only just happened. it's of big importance. and the why seems to be a mystery. if you were a a number one newspaper man, it would be your job to get on the trail of that story and run it down." and then the reporter conceived the idea of playing on stuart's sense of patriotism. "that way," he went on, "it happens that there's no class of people that does more for its country than the newspaper men. they show up the crooks, and they can point out praise when public praise is due. they expose the grafters and help to elect the right man to office. they root out public evils and push reform measures through. they're democracy, in type." the words fanned the fire of stuart's enthusiasm for a newspaper career. "yes," he said, excitedly, "yes, i can see that!" "take this story of yours--this plot that you speak about and are afraid to tell. you think it's planned against the united states'?" "i'm sure it is!" "well, how are you going to run it down? how are you going to get all the facts in the case? who can you trust to help you in this? where are you going to get all the money that it will take? why, kid, if these conspirators you talk of have anything big up their sleeve, they could buy people right and left to put you off the track and you'd never get anywhere! on your own showing, they've just plumped you down here in havana, where there's nothing doing." "they sure have," admitted stuart ruefully. "of course they have. now, if you had one of the big american newspapers backing you up, one that you could put confidence in, it would be just as if you had the united states back of you, and you'd be part and parcel of that big power which is the trumpet-voice of democracy from the atlantic to the pacific--the press!" the boy's eyes began to glisten with eagerness. every word was striking home. "but how could i do that?" "you don't have to. it's already done!" stuart stared at his friend, in bewilderment. "see here," he said, and he threw the cablegram on the table. "that paper is willing to pay any price for a big story, if it can be proved authentic. proved, mind you, documents and all the rest of it. i cabled them to know if they wanted to see you, and, if they found what you had was the real goods, whether they would stake you. they cabled back, right away, that you were to go up there." "up where?" "n'york." "but i haven't money enough to go to new york!" protested stuart. "who said anything about money? that's up to the paper. your expenses both ways, and your expenses while you're in n'york, will all be paid." "are you sure?" "seeing that i'll pay your trip up there myself, and charge it up on my own expense account, of course i'm sure. there's a boat going tomorrow." "but you couldn't get a berth for tomorrow," protested stuart, though he was weakening. he had never been to new york, and the idea of a voyage there, with his fare and all his expenses paid, tempted him. besides, as the reporter had suggested, it would be almost impossible for him to continue the quest of manuel, leborge and cecil alone. more than that, the boy felt that, if he could get a big metropolitan paper to back him, he would be in a position to find and rescue his father. "can't get a berth? watch me!" said the reporter, who was anxious to impress upon the lad the importance of the press. and, sure enough, he came back an hour later, with a berth arranged for stuart in the morrow's steamer. he also advanced money enough to the boy for a complete outfit of clothes. an afternoon spent in a turkish bath restored to the erstwhile disguised lad his formerly white skin. one sea-voyage is very much like another. stuart made several acquaintances on board, one of them a jamaican, and from his traveling companion, stuart learned indirectly that great britain's plan of welding her west india possessions into a single colony was still a live issue. the boy, himself, remembering how easily he had been pumped by dinville, was careful not to say a word about the purpose of his trip. thanks to dinville's exact instructions, stuart found the newspaper office without difficulty. the minute he stepped out of the elevator and on the floor, a driving expectancy possessed him. the disorderliness, the sense of tension, the combination of patient waiting and driving speed, the distant and yet perceptible smell of type metal and printers' ink, in short, the atmosphere of a newspaper, struck him with a sense of desire. although stuart's instructions were to see the managing editor, the young fellow who came out to see what he wanted, brought him up to the city editor's desk. the latter looked up quickly. "are you the boy dinville cabled about?" "yes, sir," the boy answered. here, though the city editor was ten times more commanding a personality than the vice-consul, the boy felt more at ease. "ever do any reporting?" "no, sir." "what's this story? just the main facts!" "are you mr. ----" the boy mentioned the name of the managing editor. "i'll act for him," said the city editor promptly. stuart's square chin went out. "i came up to see him personally," he answered. the city editor knew men. "that's the way to get an interview, my son," he said. "all right, i'll take you in to the chief. if things don't go your way, come and see me before you go. i might try you on space, just to see how you shape. dinville generally knows what he's talking about." stuart thanked him, and very gratefully, for he realized that the curt manner was merely that of an excessively busy man with a thousand things on his mind. a moment later, he found himself in the shut-in office of the managing editor. "you are a youngster," he said with a cordial smile, emphasizing the verb, and shaking hands with the boy. "well, that's the time to begin. now, lad, i've time enough to hear all that you've got to say that is important, and i haven't a second to listen to any frills. tell everything that you think you have a right to tell and begin at the beginning." during the voyage from havana, stuart had rehearsed this scene. he did not want to make the same mistake that he had made with the vice-consul, and he told his story as clearly as he could, bearing in mind the "who," "what," "why," "when" and "where" of dinville's advice. the managing editor nodded approvingly. "i think," he said reflectively, "you may develop the news sense. of course, you've told a good deal of stuff which is quite immaterial, and, likely enough, some of the good bits you've left out. that's to be expected. it takes a great many years of training to make a first-class reporter. "now, let me see if i can guess a little nearer to the truth of this plot than you did. "you say that the only three phrases you can be sure that you heard were 'mole st. nicholas,' 'naval base' and 'panama.' that isn't much. yet i think it is fairly clear, at that. the mole st. nicholas is a harbor in the north of haiti which would make a wonderful naval base--in fact, there has already been some underground talk about it--and such a naval base would be mighty close to the panama canal. suppose we start with the theory that this is what your conspirator chaps have in mind. "now, my boy, we have to find out some explanation for the meeting in so remote a place as the citadel. those three men wouldn't have gone to all that trouble and risked all that chance of being discovered and exposed unless there were some astonishingly important reasons. what can these be? well, if we are right in thinking that a naval base is what these fellows are after, it is sure that they would need a hinterland of country behind it. the mole st. nicholas, as i remember, is at the end of a peninsula formed by a range of mountains, the key to which is la ferrière. so, to make themselves safe, they would need to control both at the same time. hence the necessity of knowing exactly the defensive position of the citadel. how does that sound to you?" "i'd never thought of it, sir," said stuart, "but the way you put it, just must be right. i was an idiot not to think of it myself." "age and experience count for something, youngster," said the managing editor, smiling. "don't start off by thinking that you ought to know as much as trained men." stuart flushed at the rebuke, for he saw that it was just. "now," continued the editor, pursuing his train of thought, "we have to consider the personalities of the conspirators. you'll find, stuart, if you go into newspaper work, that one of the first things to do in any big story, is to estimate, as closely as you can, the character of the men or women who are acting in it. newspaper work doesn't deal with cold facts, like science, but with humanity, and humans act in queer ways, sometimes. a good reporter has got to be a bit of a detective and a good deal of a psychologist. he's got to have an idea how the cat is going to jump, in order to catch him on the jump. "now, so far, we know that the conspirators are at least three in number. there may be more, but we know of three. one is a haitian negro politician. one is a cuban, who, from your description, seems to be a large-scale crook. one is an englishman, and, in your judgment, he is of a different type from the other two. yet the fact that he seems to possess an agent on the eastern shore of cuba--which, don't forget, faces the mole st. nicholas--seems to suggest that he's deep in the plot." he puffed his pipe for a moment or two, and then continued, "now, there are two powerful forces working underground in the west indies. one is the spanish and negro combination, which desires to shake off all the british, french and dutch possessions, and to create a creole empire of the islands. the other is an english plan, to weld all the british islands in the west indies into a single confederation and to buy as many of the smaller isles from france and holland as may seem possible. both are hostile to the extension of american power in the gulf of mexico. possibly, some european power is back of this plot. a foreign naval base in the mole st. nicholas would be a menace to us, and one on which washington would not look very kindly. "so you see, youngster, if such a thing as this were possible, it would be a big story, and one that ought to be followed up very closely." "that's what dinville seemed to think, sir," interposed the boy, "and i told him i didn't have the money." "nor have you the experience," added the editor, dryly. "money isn't any good, if you don't know how to use it." he pondered for a moment. "i can't buy the information from you," he said, "because, so far, the story isn't in shape to use, and i don't know when i will be able to use it. yet i do want to have an option on the first scoop on the story. you know what a scoop is?" "no, sir." "a 'scoop' or a 'beat' means that one paper gets hold of a big story before any other paper has it. it is like a journalistic triumph, if you like, and a paper which gets 'scoops,' by that very fact, shows itself more wide awake than its competitors. "now, see here, stuart. suppose i agree to pay you a thousand dollars for the exclusive rights to all that you find out about the story, at what time it is ready for publication, and that i agree to put that thousand dollars to your account for you to draw on for expenses. how about that?" stuart was taken aback. he fairly stuttered, "why--sir, i--i----" the editor smiled at the boy's excited delight. "you agree?" "oh, yes, sir!" there was no mistaking the enthusiasm of the response. "very good. then, in addition to that, i'll pass the word that you're to be put on the list for correspondence stuff. i'm not playing any favorites, you understand! whatever you send in will be used or thrown out, according to its merits. and you'll be paid at the regular space rates, six dollars a column. all i promise is that you shall have a look in." "but that's--that's great!" "it's just a chance to show what you can do. if there's any stuff in you at all, here is an opportunity for you to become a high-grade newspaper man." "then i'm really on the staff!" cried the boy, "i'm really and truly a journalist?" the managing editor nodded. "yes, if you like the word," he said, "make good, and you'll be really and truly a journalist." chapter viii the poison trees for a couple of days, stuart wandered about new york, partly sight-seeing and partly on assignments in company with some of the reporters of the paper. the city editor wanted to determine whether the boy had any natural aptitude for newspaper work. so stuart chased around one day with the man on the "police court run," another day he did "hotels" and scored by securing an interview with a noted visitor for whom the regular reporter had not time to wait. the boy was too young, of course, to be sent on any assignments by himself, but one of the older men took a fancy to the lad and took him along a couple of times, when on a big story. just a week later, on coming in to the office, stuart was told that the managing editor wanted to see him. as this was the summons for which he had been waiting, stuart obeyed with alacrity. the managing editor did not motion him to a a chair, as before, so the boy stood. "first of all, garfield----" and the boy noticed the use of the surname--"i want to tell you that your father is safe. we've been keeping the wires hot to port-au-prince and have found out that some one resembling the description you gave me of your father commandeered a sailing skiff at a small place near jacamel and set off westward. two days afterward, he landed at guantanamo and registered at a hotel as 'james garfield.' he stayed there two days and then took the train for havana. so you don't need to worry over that, any more." "thank you, sir," answered the boy, relieved, "i'm mighty glad to know." "now," continued the editor, "let us return to this question for which we brought you here. according to your story, you heard the conspirators say that their plans would be ready for fulfillment next spring." "yes, sir," the boy agreed, "leborge said that." "good. then there is no immediate need of pressing the case too closely. it will be better to let the plans mature a little. a mere plot doesn't mean much. news value comes in action. when something actually happens, then, knowing what lies behind it, the story becomes big. "what we really want to find out is whether this plot--as it seems to be--is just a matter between two or three men, or if it is widely spread over all the islands of the west indies. you're too young, as yet, for anything like regular newspaper work, but the fact that you're not much more than a youngster might be turned to advantage. no one would suspect that you were in quest of political information. "so i'm going to suggest that you make a fairly complete tour of the islands, this fall and early winter, just as if you were idling around, apparently, but, at the same time, keeping your ears and your eyes open. in order to give color to your roamings, you can write us some articles on 'social life and the color line in the west indies' as you happen to see it. first-hand impressions are always valuable, and, perhaps, the fact that you see them through a boy's eyes may give them a certain novelty and freshness. of course, the articles will probably have to be rewritten in the office. by keeping a copy of the stuff you send, and comparing it with the way the articles appear in the paper, you'll get a fair training. "we'll probably handle these in the sunday edition, and i'm going to turn you over to the sunday editor, to whom you'll report, in future." he nodded pleasantly to the boy in token of dismissal. "i wish you luck on your trip," he said, "and see that you send us in the right kind of stuff!" stuart thanked him heartily for his kindness, and went out, sorry that he was not going to deal with the chief himself. the sunday editor's office was a welter of confusion. as stuart was to find out, in the years to come when he should really be a newspaper man, the sunday editor's job is a hard one. it is much sought, since it is day work rather than night work, but it is a wearing task. the sunday editor must have all the qualities of a magazine man and a newspaper man at the same time. he must also have the creative faculty. in such departments of a modern newspaper as the city, telegraph, sporting, financial, etc., the work of the reporters and editors is to chronicle and present the actual news. if nothing of vital interest has happened during the day, that is not their fault. their work is done when the news is as well covered and as graphically told as possible. there are no such limits in the sunday editor's office. he must create interest, provoke sensation, and build the various extra sections of the sunday issue into a paper of such vital importance that every different kind of reader will find something to hold his attention. he has all the world to choose from, but he has also all the world to please. the work, too, must be done at high pressure, for the columns of a sunday issue to be filled are scores in number, and the sunday staff of any paper--even the biggest--is but small. fergus, the sunday editor, was a rollicking irishman, with red hair and a tongue hung in the middle. he talked, as his ancestors fought, all in a hurry. he was a whirlwind for praise, but a tornado for blame. his organizing capacity was marvelous, and his men liked and respected him, for they knew well that he could write rings around any one of them, in a pinch. he began as the boy entered the door, "ye're stuart garfield, eh? ye don't look more'n about a half-pint of a man. does the chief think i'm startin' a kindergarten? not that i give a hang whether ye're two or eighty-two so long as ye can write. ye'll go first to barbados. steamer sails tomorrow at eight in the morning. here's your berth. here's a note to the cashier. letter of instructions following. wait at the crown hotel, bridgetown, till you get it. don't write if ye haven't anything to say. get a story across by every mail-boat. if ye send me rot, i'll skin ye. good luck!" and he turned to glance over his shoulder at a copy-boy who had come in with a handful of slips, proofs and the thousand matters of the editor's daily grind. stuart waited two or three minutes, expecting fergus to continue, but the sunday editor seemed to have forgotten his existence. "well, then, good-by, mr. fergus," said the boy, hesitatingly. "oh, eh? are ye there still? sure. good-by, boy, good-by an' good luck to ye!" and plunged back into his work. there seemed nothing else for stuart to do but to go out of the office. in the hall outside, he paused and wondered. he held in his hand the two slips of paper that fergus had given him, and he stared down at these with bewilderment. fergus' volley of speech, had taken him clean off his balance. there was no doubt about the reality of these two slips of paper. one was the ticket for his berth and the other had the figures "$ " scrawled across a printed form made out to the cashier, and it was signed "rick fergus." in his uncertainty what he ought to do, stuart went into the city room and hunted up his friend the reporter. to him he put the causes of his confusion. the old newspaper man smiled. "that's rick fergus, all over," he said. "good thing you didn't ask him any questions! he'd have taken your head off at one bite. he's right, after all. if a reporter's any good at all, he knows himself what to do. a new york paper isn't fooling around with amateurs, generally. but, under the circumstances, i think rick might have told you something. let's see. how about your passport?" "i've got one," said stuart, "i had to have one, coming up from cuba." "if you're going to barbados, you'll have to have it viséed by the british consul." "but that will take a week, maybe, and i've got to sail tomorrow!" "is that all your trouble?" he stepped to the telephone. "consulate? yes? _new york planet_ speaking. one of our men's got to chase down to barbados on a story. sending him round this afternoon. will you be so good as to visé him through? ever so much obliged; thanks!" he put up the receiver and turned to the boy. "easy as easy, you see," he said. "the name of a big paper like this one will take you anywhere, if you use it right. now, let's see. you'll want to go and see the cashier. come on down, i'll introduce you." a word or two at the cashier's window, and the bills for $ were shoved across to stuart, who pocketed them nervously. he had never seen so much money before. "next," said the reporter, "you'd better get hold of some copy-paper, a bunch of letter-heads and envelopes. also some expense account blanks. stop in at one of these small printing shops and have some cards printed with your name and that of the paper--here, like mine!" and he pulled out a card from his card case and gave it to the boy for a model. stuart was doing his best to keep up with this rapid change in his fortunes, but, despite himself, his eyes looked a bit wild. his friend the reporter saw it, and tapped him on the back. "you haven't got any time to lose," he said. "oh, yes, there's another thing, too. can you handle a typewriter?" "no," answered the boy, "at least, i never tried." "then you take my tip and spend some of that $ on a portable machine and learn to handle it, on the way down to barbados. you'll have to send all your stuff typewritten, you know. imagine fergus getting a screed from a staff man in longhand!" the reporter chuckled at the thought. "why, i believe the old red-head would take a trip down to the west indies just to have a chance of saying what he thought. or, if he couldn't go, he'd blow up, and we'd be out a mighty good sunday editor. no, son, you've got to learn to tickle a typewriter!" they had not been wasting time during this talk, for the reporter had taken out of his own desk the paper, letter-heads, expense account blanks and the rest and handed them over to the boy, explaining that he could easily replenish his own supply. "now," he suggested, "make tracks for the consulate. stop at a printer's on your way and order some cards. then chase back and buy yourself a portable typewriter. and, if i were you, i'd start learning it, right tonight. then, hey! off for the west indies again, eh?" "but don't i go and say good-by to the city editor, or the managing editor, or anyone?" "what for? you've got your berth, you've got your money, you're going to get your passport, and you've got your assignment. nothing more for you to do, son, except to get down there and deliver the goods." he led the way out of the office and to the elevator. on reaching the street, he turned to the boy. "there's one thing," he said, "that may help you, seeing that you're new to the work. when you get down to barbados, drop into the office of the biggest paper there. chum up with the boys. they'll see that you're a youngster, and they'll help you all they can. you'll find newspaper men pretty clannish, the world over. well, good-bye, garfield, i won't be likely to see you again before you go. i've got that traction swindle to cover and there's going to be a night hearing." the boy shook hands with real emotion. "you've been mighty good to me," he said, "it's made all the difference to my stay in new york." "oh! that's all right!" came the hearty reply. "well--good luck!" he turned down the busy street and, in a moment, was lost in the crowd. for a moment stuart felt a twinge of loneliness, but the afternoon was short, and he had a great deal to do. it was only by hurrying that he was able to get done all the various things that had been suggested. despite his rush, however, the boy took time to send a cable to his father, telling of his own safety, for he had no means of knowing whether or not his father might be worrying over him also. he worked until midnight learning the principles of the typewriter and, in a poky sort of way, trying to hammer out the guide sentences given him in the instruction book. next day found him again at sea. in contrast with the riotous vegetation of the jungles of haiti and the tropical forests of eastern cuba, stuart found the country around bridgetown, the sole harbor of barbados, surprisingly unattractive. the city itself was active and bustling, but dirty, dusty and mean. on the other hand, the suburbs, with villas occupied by the white residents, were remarkable for their marvelous gardens. on the outskirts of the town, and all over the island, in rows or straggling clumps which seemed to have been dropped down anywhere, stuart saw the closely clustered huts of the negroes. these were tiny huts of pewter-gray wood, raised from the ground on a few rough stones and covered by a roof of dark shingles. they were as simple as the houses a child draws on his slate--things of two rooms, with two windows and one door. the windows had sun shutters in place of glass and there were no chimneys, for the negro housewives do their cooking out of doors in the cool of the evening. the boy noticed that, by dark, all these windows and doors were closed tightly, for the barbadian negro sleeps in an air-tight room. he does this, ostensibly, to keep out ten-inch-long centipedes, and bats, but, in reality, to keep out "jumbies" and ghosts, of which he is much more afraid. [illustration: his vision distorted by the venom-vapor of the poison trees, the land-crabs seemed of enormous size and the negro who came to rescue him appeared as an ogre.] the greater part of the island seemed, to the boy, utterly unlike any place he had seen in the tropics. around bridgetown, and over two-thirds of the island of barbados, there is hardly a tree. the ground rises in slow undulations, marked, like a checker-board, with sugar-cane fields. no place could seem more lacking in opportunity for adventures, yet stuart was to learn to the contrary before long. acting upon the advice given him by his friend the reporter, in new york, just before leaving, stuart seized the first opportunity to make himself known to the newspaper men of bridgetown. he was warmly received, even welcomed, and was amazed at the ready hospitality shown him. moreover, when he stated that he was there to do some article on "social life and the color question" for the _new york planet_, he found that he had struck a subject on which anyone and everyone he met was willing to talk--as the managing editor no doubt had anticipated when he suggested the series to the boy. in one respect--as almost everyone he interviewed pointed out--barbados differs from every other of the west india islands. it is densely populated, so densely, indeed, that there is not a piece of land suitable for cultivation which is not employed. the great ambition of the barbadian is to own land. the spirit of loyalty to the island is incredibly strong. this dense population and intensive cultivation has made the struggle for existence keen in barbados. a job is a prize. this has made the barbadian negro a race apart, hardworking and frugal. until the building of the panama canal, few negroes left their island home. with the help of his newspaper friends, stuart was able to send to his paper a fairly well-written article on the barbadian negro. the boy was wise enough to take advice from his new friends how best to write the screed. moreover, he learned that there was also, on the island, a very unusual and most interesting colony of "poor whites," the descendants of english convicts who had been brought to the island in the seventeenth century. these were not criminals, but political prisoners who had fought in monmouth's rebellion. pitied by the planters, despised even by the negro slaves, this small colony held itself aloof, starved, and married none but members of their own colony. they are now mere shadows of men, with puny bodies and witless minds, living in brush or wooden hovels and eating nothing but a little wild fruit and fish. their story made another good article for stuart's paper, and he spent almost an entire day holding such conversation with them as he could, though their english language had so far degenerated that the boy found it hard to understand. the colony is not far from the little village of bathsheba, which stuart had reached by the tramway that crosses the island. the returning tram was not due to start for a couple of hours, and so, idly, stuart strolled southward along the beach, which, at that point, is fringed with curiously shaped rocks, forming curving bays shaded with thickets of trees which curve down to the shore. some of these were modest-looking trees, something like apple-trees but with a longer, thinner leaf. they bore a fruit like a green apple. the boy, tired from his walk along the soft white sand, threw himself down negligently beneath the trees, in the shade, and, finding one of the fruits fallen, close to his hand, picked it up and half decided to eat it. an inner warning bade him pause. the day had been hot and the shade was inviting. a sour and yet not unpleasant odor was in the air. it made him sleepy, or, to speak more correctly, it made his limbs heavy, while a certain exhilaration of spirits lulled him into a false content. soon, under these trees, on the beach near bathsheba, stuart passed into a languorous waking dream. and the red land-crabs, on their stilt-like legs, crept nearer and nearer. an hour later, one of the barbadian negroes, coming home from his work, was met at the door of his cabin by his wife, her eyes wide with alarm. "white pickney go along terror cove. no come um back." "fo' de sake!" came the astonished exclamation. "best hop along, see!" the burly negro, well-built like all his fellows, struck out along the beach. he talked to himself and shook his frizzled head as he went. his pace, which was distinctly that of hurry, betokened his disturbed mind. "pickney go alone here, by golly!" he declared as he traced the prints of a booted foot on the white sand and saw that they led only in one direction. "no come back! dem debbil-trees, get um!" he turned the corner and paused a minute at the extraordinary sight presented. in the curve of the cove, dancing about with high, measured steps, like that of a trained carriage-horse, was the boy, his hands clutching a stout stick with which he was beating the air around him as though fighting some imaginary foe, in desperation for his life. the sand around his feet was spotted, as though with gouts of blood, by the ruddy land-crabs, and, from every direction, these repulsive carrion eaters were hastening to their prey. they formed a horrible alliance--the "debbil-trees" and the blood-red land-crabs! the negro broke into a run. the old instinct of the black to serve the white rose in him strongly, though his own blood ran cold as he came near the "debbil-trees." the crabs were swarming all about the boy. some of the most daring were clawing their way up his trousers, but stuart seemed to have no eyes for them. with jerky strokes, as though his arms were worked by a string, he struck and slashed at the air at some imaginary enemy about the height of his waist. as his rescuer came nearer, he could hear the boy screaming, a harsh, inhuman scream of rage and fear and madness combined. jerky words amid the screams told of his terrors, "they're eating me! their claws are all around! their eyes! their eyes!" but still the strokes were directed wildly at the air, and never a blow fell on the little red horrors at his feet. "ol' doc, he say debbil-tree make um act that way," muttered the negro, as he ran, "pickney he think um crabs big as a mule!" stuart, fighting for his life with what his tortured imagination conceived to be gigantic monsters, saw, coming along the beach, the semblance of an ogre. the pupils of his eyes, contracted by the poison to mere pin-pricks, magnified enormously, and the negro took on the proportions of a giant. but stuart was a fighter. he would not run. he turned upon his new foe. the negro, reckoning nothing of one smart blow from the stick, threw his muscular arms about the boy, held him as in a vice, and picking him up, carried him off as if he were a baby. the boy struggled and screamed but it availed him nothing. "pickney, he mad um sartain," announced the negro, as he strode by his own hut, "get him ol' doc good'n quick!" half walking and half running, but carrying his burden with ease, the negro hurried to a well-built house, on a height of land half a mile back from the coast. the house was surrounded by a well-kept garden, but the negro kicked the gate open without ceremony, and, still running, rushed into the house, calling, "mister ol' doc! mister ol' doc!" at his cries, one of the doors into the hall opened, and a keen-eyed man, much withered, and with a scraggly gray beard, came out. the negro did not wait for him to speak. "mister ol' doc," he said, "this pickney down by de debbil-trees, they got um sartain. you potion um quick!" the doctor stepped aside from the door. "put him in there, mark!" he directed. "hold him, i'll be back in a minute!" the negro threw stuart on a cot and held him down, an easy task, now, for the boy's strength was ebbing fast. the doctor was back in a moment, with a small phial. he dropped a few drops into the boy's mouth, then, stripping him, put an open box of ointment between himself and the negro. "now, mark," he said, "rub that stuff into his body. don't be afraid of it. go after him as if you were grooming a horse. put some elbow-grease into it. the ointment has got to soak in, and the skin has got to be kept warm. see, he's getting cold, now!" the negro suited the action to the word. he rubbed with all his strength, and the ointment, concocted from some pungent herb, reddened the skin where it went in. but, a moment or two after, the redness disappeared and the bluish look of cold returned. "faster and harder!" cried the old doctor. sweat poured down from the negro's face. he ripped off jacket and shirt, and, bare to the waist, scrubbed at the boy's skin. and, if ever he stopped a moment to wipe the sweat from his forehead, the doctor cried, "faster and harder!" little by little, the reddening of the skin lasted longer, little by little the bluish tints began to go, little by little the stiffening which had begun, relaxed. "he's coming round," cried the doctor. "harder, now! put your back into it, mark!" nearly an hour had passed when the negro, exhausted and trembling from his exertions, sank into a chair. the doctor eyed him keenly, gave him a stiff dose from a medicine glass, and returned to his patient. "he'll do now," he said. "in half an hour he'll feel as well as ever, and by tomorrow he'll be terribly ill." "for de sake, mister ol' doc, i got to rub um tomorrow?" pleaded the negro. "no, not tomorrow. from now on, i've got to 'potion um,' as you put it." he put his hand in his pocket. "here, mark," he said, "is half a sovereign. that isn't for saving the boy's life, you understand, for you'd have done that any way, but for working on him as you have." the negro pocketed the coin with a wide smile, but lingered. "i want to see um come 'round," he explained. as the doctor had forecast, in half an hour's time, the color flowed back into stuart's cheeks, his breathing became normal, and, presently, he stirred and looked around. "what--what----" he began, bewildered. "you went to sleep under the shade of some poison-trees, manchineel trees, we call them here," the doctor explained. "did you eat any of the fruit?" "i--i don't know," replied stuart, trying to remember. "i--i sort of went to sleep, that is, my body seemed to and my head didn't. and then i saw crabs coming. at first they were only small ones, then bigger ones came, and bigger, and bigger----" he shivered and hid his face at the remembrance. "there was nothing there except the regular red land-crabs," said the doctor, "maybe eighteen inches across, but with a body the size of your hand. their exaggeration of size was a delirium due to poisoning." "and the big, black ogre?" "was our friend mark, here," explained the doctor, "who rescued you, first, and has saved your life by working over you, here." stuart held out his hand, feebly. "i didn't know there were any trees which hurt you unless you touched them," he said. "plenty of them," answered the scientist. "there are over a hundred plants which give off smells or vapors which are injurious either to man or animals. some are used by savages for arrow poisons, others for fish poisons, and some we use for medicinal drugs. dixon records a 'gas-tree' in africa, the essential oil of which contains chlorine and the smell of which is like the poison-gas used in the world war. and poison-ivy, in the united states, will poison some people even if they only pass close to it." "jes' how does a tree make a smell, mister ol' doc?" queried mark. "that's hard to explain to you," answered the scientist, turning to the negro. "but every plant has some kind of a smell, that is, all of them have essential oils which volatilize in the air. some, like the bay, have these oil-sacs in the leaves, some, like cinnamon, in the bark, and so on. the smell of flowers comes the same way." "an' there is mo' kinds of debbil-trees 'an them on terror cove?" "plenty more kinds," was the answer, "though few of them are as deadly. these are famous. lord nelson, when a young man here in barbados, was made very ill by drinking from a pool into which some branches of the manchineel had been thrown. in fact, he never really got over it." "how about me, doctor?" enquired stuart. his face was flushing and its was evident that the semi-paralysis of the first infection was passing into a fever stage. "it all depends whether you ate any of the fruit or not," the doctor answered. "if you didn't, you're safe. but you seem to have spent an hour in that poison-tree grove, and that gives the 'devil-trees,' as mark calls them, plenty of time to get in their deadly work. you'll come out of it, all right, but you'll have to fight for it!" chapter ix the hurricane for many days stuart lay in an alternation of fever and stupor, tormented by dreams in which visions of the red land-crabs played a terrible part, but youth and clean living were on his side, and he passed the crisis. thereafter, in the equable climate of barbados--one of the most healthful of the west indies islands--his strength began to return. the "ol' doc," as he was universally known in the neighborhood, was an eccentric scientist who had spent his life in studying the plants of the west indies. he had lived in the antilles for over forty years and knew as much about the people as he did about the plant life. kindly-natured, the old botanist became greatly interested in his young patient, and, that he should not weary in enforced idleness, sent to bridgetown for stuart's trunk and his portable typewriter. day by day the boy practised, and then turned his hand to writing a story of his experiences with the "debbil-trees" which story, by the way, he had to rewrite three times before his host would let him send it. "writing," he would say, "is like everything else in the world. you can do it quickly and well, after years of experience, but, at the beginning, you must never let a sentence pass until you are sure that you cannot phrase it better." moreover, as it turned out, the ol' doc was to be stuart's guide in more senses than one, for when the boy casually mentioned guy cecil's name, the botanist twisted his head sidewise sharply. "eh, what? who's that?" he asked. "what does he look like?" stuart gave a description, as exact as he could. "do you suppose he knows anything about flowers?" "he seemed to know a lot about jamaica orchids," the boy replied. the botanist tapped the arm of his chair with definite, meditative taps. "that man," he said, "has always been a mystery to me. how old would you take him to be?" "oh, forty or so," the boy answered. "he has looked that age for twenty years, to my knowledge. if i didn't know better, i should believe him to have found the fountain of perpetual youth which ponce de leon and so many other of the early spanish adventurers sailed to the spanish main to find." "but what is he?" asked stuart, sitting forward and eager in attention. "who knows? he is the friend, the personal friend, of nearly every important man in the caribbean, whether that official be british, french or dutch; he is also regarded as a witch-master by half the black population. i have met him in the jungles, botanizing--and he is a good botanist--i have seen him suddenly appear as the owner of a sugar plantation, as a seeker for mining concessions, as a merchant, and as a hotel proprietor. i have seen him the owner of a luxurious yacht; i have met him, half-ragged, looking for a job, with every appearance of poverty and misery." "but," cried the lad in surprise, "what can that all imply? do you suppose he's just some sort of a conspirator, or swindler, sometimes rich and sometimes poor, according to the hauls he has made?" "well," said the botanist, "sometimes i have thought he is the sort of man who would have been a privateer in the old days, a 'gentleman buccaneer.' maybe he is still, but in a different way. sometimes, i have thought that he was attached to the secret service of some government." "english?" "probably not," the scientist answered, "because he is too english for that. no, he is so english that i thought he must be for some other government and was just playing the english part to throw off suspicion." "german?" "it's not unlikely." whereupon stuart remembered the guarded way in which the managing editor had spoken of "european powers," and this thought of cecil threw him back upon his quest. "i'll soon have to be going on to trinidad," he suggested a day or two later. "i think i'm strong enough to travel, now." "yes," the old botanist answered, "you're strong enough to travel, but you'd better not go just now." "why not?" "well----" the old west indian resident cast a look at the sky, "there are a good many reasons. unless i'm much mistaken, there's wind about, big wind, hurricane wind, maybe. i've been feeling uneasy, ever since noon yesterday. do you see those three mares'-tail high-cirrus clouds?" "you mean those that look like feathers, with the quills so much thicker than usual?" "yes, those. and you notice that those quills, as you call them, are not parallel, but all point in the same direction, like the sticks of a fan? that means a big atmospheric disturbance in that direction, and it means, too, that it must be a gyrating one. that type of cirrus clouds isn't proof of a coming hurricane, not by a good deal, but it's one of the signs. and, if it comes, the center of it is now just about where those mares'-tails are pointing." "you're really afraid of a hurricane!" exclaimed stuart, a little alarmed at the seriousness of the old man's manner. "there are few things in the world of which one ought more to be afraid!" declared the old scientist dryly. "a hurricane is worse, far worse, than an earthquake, sometimes." stuart sat silent for a moment, then, "are there any more signs?" he asked. "yes," was the quiet answer. "nearly all the hurricane signs are beginning to show. look at the sea! if you'll notice, the surface is fairly glassy, showing that there is not much surface wind. yet, in spite of that, there is a heavy, choppy, yet rolling swell coming up on the beach." "i had noticed the roar," stuart agreed, "one can hear it plainly from here." "exactly. but, if you watch for a few minutes, you'll see that the swells are not long and unbroken, as after a steady period of strong wind from any quarter, but irregular, some of the swells long, some short. that suggests that they have received their initial impulse from a hurricane, with a whirling center, the waves being whipped by gusts that change their direction constantly. "notice, too, how hollow our voices sound, as if there were a queer resonance in the air, rather as if we were talking inside a drum. "you were complaining of the heat this morning, and, now, there is hardly any wind. what does that mean? "it means that the trade wind, which keeps this island cool even in the hottest summer, has been dying down, since yesterday. now, since the trade winds blow constantly, and are a part of the unchanging movements of the atmosphere, you can see for yourself that any disturbance of the atmosphere which is violent enough to overcome the constant current of the trade winds must be of vast size and of tremendous force. "what can such a disturbance be? the only answer is--a hurricane. "then there's another reason for feeling heat. that would be if the air were unusually hazy and moist. now, if you'll observe, during this morning and the early part of the afternoon, the air has been clear, then hazy, then clear again, and is once more hazy. that shows a rapid and violent change in the upper air. "so far, so good. now, in addition to observations of the clouds, the sea and the air at the surface, it helps--more, it is all-important--to check these observations by some scientific instrument which cannot lie. for this, we must use the barometer, which, as you probably know, is merely an instrument for weighing the air. when the air is heavier the barometer rises, when the air grows lighter, the barometer falls. "yesterday, the barometer rose very high, much higher than it would in ordinary weather. this morning, it was jumpy, showing--as the changes in the haziness of the air showed--irregular and violent movements in the upper atmosphere. it is now beginning to go down steadily, a little faster every hour. this is an almost sure sign that there is a hurricane in action somewhere, and, probably, within a few hundred miles of here. "but tell me, stuart, since we have been talking, have you noticed any change in the atmosphere, or in the sky." "well," answered the boy, hesitating, for he did not wish to seem alarmist, "it did seem to me as if there were a sort of reddish color in the sky, as if the blue were turning rusty." "watch it!" said the botanist, with a note of awe in his voice, "and you will see what you never have seen before!" for a few moments he kept silence. the rusty color gradually rose in intensity to a ruby hue and then to an angry crimson, deepening as the sun sank. over the sky, covered with a milky veil, which reflected this glowing color, there began to rise, in the south-west, an arch of shredded cirrus cloud, its denser surface having greater reflecting powers, seeming to give it a sharp outline against the veiled sky. the scientist rose, consulted the barometer, and returned, looking very grave. "it looks bad," he said. "there is not much doubt that it will strike the island." "take to the hurricane wing, then!" suggested stuart, a little jestingly. in common with many barbados houses, the botanist's dwelling was provided with a hurricane wing, a structure of heavy masonry, with only one or two narrow slits to let in air, and with a roof like a gun casemate. there was no jest in the old doctor's tone, as he answered, "i have already ordered that provisions be sent there, and that the servants be prepared to go." this statement brought stuart up with a jerk. in common with many people, it seemed impossible to him that he would pass through one of the great convulsions of nature. human optimism always expects to escape a danger. "but this is the beginning of october!" the boy protested. "i always thought hurricanes came in the summer months." "no; august, september and october are the three worst months. that is natural, for a hurricane could not happen in the winter and even the early summer ones are not especially dangerous. but the signs of this one are troubling. look!" he pointed to the sea. the rolling swell was losing its character. the water, usually either a turquoise-blue or a jade-green, was now an opaque olive-black. the waves were choppy, and threw up small heads of foam like the swirl of cross-currents in a tide-rip. stuart began to feel a little frightened. "do you really think it will come here?" "yes," said the botanist gravely, "i do. in fact i am sure of it. barbados is full in the hurricane track, you know." "but why?" queried the boy. "i've always heard of west indian hurricanes. do they only happen here? i don't see why they should come here more than any other place." "do you know why they come at all?" stuart thought for a moment. "no," he answered, "i don't know that i do. i never thought anything about it. i always figured that storms just happened, somehow." "nothing 'just happens,'" was the stern rebuke. "hark!" he held up his finger for silence. a low rumbling, sounding something like the pounding of heavy surf on a beach heard at a distance, and closely akin to the sound made by niagara falls, seemed to fill the air. and, across the sound, came cracks like distant pistol shots heard on a clear day. the white arch rose slowly and just underneath it appeared an arch of darker cloud, almost black. at the same moment, came a puff of the cool wind from the north. "we will have it in less than two hours," said the scientist. "it is a good thing that all afternoon i have had the men and women on the place nailing the shutters tight and fastening everything that can be fastened. we may only get the edge of the hurricane, we may get the center. there is no telling. an island is not like a ship, which can direct its course so as to escape the terrible vortex of the center. we've got to stay and take it." "but has every hurricane a center?" queried the boy, a little relieved by the thought that the storm would not come for two hours. in that time, he foolishly thought, it might have spent its force. he did not know that hurricanes possess a life of their own which endures not less than a week, and in one or two cases, as long as a month. "you wouldn't ask whether every hurricane has a center," the scientist replied, "if you knew a little more about them. as there is nothing for us to do but wait, and as it is foolish to go to the hurricane wing until the time of danger, i might as well explain to you what a hurricane really is. then, if you live through it----" stuart jumped at the sudden idea of the imminent danger--"you'll be able to write to your paper about it, intelligently." "i'd really like to know," declared stuart, leaning forward eagerly. "well," said his informant, "i'll make it as simple as i can, though, i warn you, a hurricane isn't a subject that can be explained in a sentence or two. "you know that summer and winter weather are different. you ought to be able to see that summer and winter winds are different. the difference in seasons is caused by the respective positions of the northern and southern hemispheres to the sun. the greater the heat, the greater the atmospheric changes. hurricanes are great whirls caused by violent changes of the air. therefore hurricanes come only in the summer." "that's clear and easy!" declared the boy, delighted that he was able to follow the explanation. "now, as to why hurricanes strike here and nowhere else. i'll try and explain that, too. there is a belt of ocean, just north of and on the equator, known as the 'doldrums,' where it is nearly always calm, and very hot. there is also a belt of air running from southern europe to the west indies where the north-east trade winds blow all the year round. between this perpetual calm of the doldrums and the perpetual wind of the trades is a region of atmospheric instability. "now, consider conditions to the west of us. the caribbean sea and the gulf of mexico, together, form what is almost a great inland sea with the west indian islands as its eastern shore. the trade winds do not reach it. the pacific winds do not reach it, for they are diverted by the high ranges of central america. the winds from north america do not reach it, because these always turn northwards on reaching the mississippi valley and leave the united states by the st. lawrence valley. "so, stuart, you can see that the caribbean sea and the gulf of mexico have over them, in summer, a region of air, little disturbed by wind, not far from the equator and which, therefore, becomes steadily heated and steadily saturated by the evaporation from the body of water below." "yes," agreed the boy, "i can see that." "very good. now, such a steady heating of one section of air is bound to disturb the balance of the atmosphere. this disturbance, moreover, must be acted upon by the rotation of the earth. just as all the weather in the united states comes from the west and travels eastwards, so the track of hurricane origins travels eastwards during the course of a summer. "for this reason, west indian hurricanes in june generally have their origin west of jamaica, july hurricanes east of jamaica, august hurricanes in the eastern caribbean, september hurricanes in the atlantic east and south of the west indies, and october hurricanes far out to sea, perhaps even as far as half-way to the cape verde islands on the shores of africa. this hurricane which is approaching, is from the direction of east-south-east, judging from the barometer and other conditions, and probably had its cradle a thousand or more miles away." "and it hasn't blown itself out?" "far from it. it is only gathering strength and violence. not until it twists off on its track will it begin to diminish. for hurricanes follow a regular track, an invisible trail marked out for them in the sky." "they do!" "yes, all of them. this track is shaped like a rounded cone, or, more often, like a boomerang, with a short arm running north-westwards to its place of turning and a long arm running northeastwards until its force is spent. the point of turning is always in the west indies zone. as the storm is at its worst at the point of turning, it is always in the west indies that the hurricane is most destructive. "no matter where they start, west indian hurricanes always sweep north-westward until they have crossed the line of the west indies and then wheel around sharply to the north-east, skirting the united states coast. some strike florida. a good many run along the coast and hit hatteras. some never actually touch the continent at all, and only a few ever strike inland. but some part of the west indies is hit by every one of them." "are they so frequent?" "there's never a year without one or more. there have been years with five or six. of course, some hurricanes are much more violent than others. their destructive character depends a good deal, too, on the place where their center passes. thus if, at the moment of its greatest fury, the full ferocity of the whirl is expended on the ocean, not much harm is done. but if it should chance to descend upon a busy and thriving city, the loss of life will be appalling. "of these disastrous hurricanes, it would be fair to state that at least once in every four years, some part of the west indies is going to suffer a disaster, and once in every twenty years there is a hurricane of such violence as to be reckoned a world calamity." the botanist rose, took another look at the barometer, and called one of the older servants. "send every one into the hurricane wing," he said. "see that the storm lantern is there, filled and lighted. tell the cook to pour a pail of water on the kitchen fire before she leaves. see, yourself, that every place is securely fastened. the rain will be here in ten minutes." the negro, who was gray with fright, flashed a quick look of relief at the orders to seek the hurricane wing, and ran off at full speed. "the first rain-squalls will not be bad," continued the "old doc," "and i like to stay out as long as i can, to watch its coming. it will be nearly dark when this one strikes us, though, and there won't be much to see." "but what starts them, sir?" queried the boy, who had become intensely interested, since the grim phantasmagoria was unfolding itself on sea and sky before his eyes. "as i have told you, it is the creation of a super-heated and saturated mass of air, only possible in a calm region, such as the caribbean west of the west indies, or the doldrum region southeast of them. let me show you how it happens. "a region of air, over a tropical sea, little moved by wind-currents, becomes warmer than the surrounding region of air; the air over this region becomes lighter; the lighter air rises and flows over the colder layers of surrounding air, increasing the pressure on that ring and increasing the inward flow to the warm central area where the air pressure has been diminished by the overflow aloft. the overflowing air reaches a point on the outside of the cold air area, when it again descends, and once more flows inward to the center, making a complete circuit. do you understand so far?" stuart knitted his brows in perplexity. "i--i think so, but i'm not sure," he said. "then the barometer rose, yesterday, because we were in the cold air area, which became heavier because there was a layer of warm air on the top of it. the storm has moved westward. the cold air section has passed. the barometer is falling now because we're in the region of warm air, which is steadily rising and is therefore lighter. that shows we're nearer to the center. is that it?" the scientist tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair in pleased appreciation. "very good," he said, "you are exactly right. and, from now on, the barometer will drop suddenly, for the whirl of the wind will make a partial vacuum in the very center of the hurricane." "but i don't see what makes it whirl," protested the boy. "if it goes up in the middle, flows over at the top and comes down at the outside and then flows into the middle again, why could it not keep on doing that all the time, until the balance was put straight again?" "it would," the scientist agreed, "but for one thing you have forgotten." "and what's that?" "the rotation of the earth." a single drop of rain fell, then another, making a splash as large as a twenty-five cent piece. "now see it come!" said the scientist. as though his words had summoned it, a liquid opacity, like a piece of clouded glass, thrust itself between their eyes and the landscape. so suddenly it came that stuart actually did not realize that this was falling rain, until, looking at the ground, he saw the earth dissolve into mud before his eyes and saw the garden turn into what seemed like the bed of a shallow river. the wind whistled with a vicious note. the squall lasted scarcely a minute, and was gone. "that's the first," remarked the boy's informant. "we'd better get under shelter, they'll come fast and furious soon." passing through a low passage connecting the house with the hurricane wing, stuart noticed that, beside the massiveness of the structure, it was braced from within. "in case the house should fall on it," the scientist observed, noting stuart's glances. "i've no wish to be buried alive. in any case, i keep crowbars in the wing, so that, in case of any unforeseen disaster, a breach could be made in the walls and we could get out that way." they entered the hurricane wing. it was not as dark as stuart had expected. the scientist, anxious to observe the storms when they should come, had built into the wall two double dead-eye windows, such as are used in the lower decks of liners and which can resist the impact of the heaviest waves. the crimson light had gone. the vivid sunset reflections, now thrown back from the black arch, yet gave a reddish smokiness to the livid and sickly green which showed, from time to time, beneath the underhanging masses of inky black. the sky to the north and to the south had a tortured appearance, as though some demon of a size beyond imagining were twisting the furies of the tempest in his clutch. "you asked," said the scientist, speaking in the hurricane wing, as quietly as he had on the verandah, and paying absolutely no heed to the moaning and praying of the negroes huddled in the darkest corner, "what makes a hurricane whirl. yet, in the heavens, you can see the skies a-twist!" a second rain-squall struck. thick as were the walls, they could not keep out the wailing shriek of the wind, nor the hissing of the rain, which flashed like a continuous cutting blade of steel past the windows. the hurricane wing could not rock, it was too low and solidly planted for that, but it trembled in the impact. after a couple of minutes came a lull, and stuart's ears were filled with the cries and howling of the frightened negroes, not a sound of which had been audible during the squall. the scientist continued his talk in an even voice, as peacefully as though he were in his study. "you asked what could set the skies a-twist. i told you, the earth's rotation. for, stuart, you must remember that a hurricane is not a small thing. this heated region of the air of which we have been speaking, with its outer belt of cooler air, and the descending warm air beyond, is a region certainly not less than five hundred miles in diameter and may be a great deal more. "now, the air, as you know, is held to the earth's surface by gravitation, but, being gaseous, it is not held as closely as if it were in a solid state. also, there is centrifugal force to be considered. also the fact that the earth is not round, but flattened at the poles. also the important fact that air at the equator is more heated than at the polar regions. all these things together keep the air in a constant commotion. the combined effect of these, in the northern hemisphere, is that air moving along the surface of the earth is deflected to the right. thus in the case we are considering, the lower currents, approaching the heated center, do not come in equally from all directions, but are compelled to approach in spirals. this spiral action once begun increases, of itself, in power and velocity. this is a hurricane in its baby stage." another squall struck. speech again became impossible. as before, sheets of water--which bore no relation to rain, but seemed rather as though the earth were at the foot of a waterfall from which a river was leaping from on high--were hurled over the land. the shrieking of the wind had a wild and maniacal sound, the sound which jamaicans have christened "the hell-cackle of a hurricane." this squall lasted longer, five minutes or more, and when it passed, the wind dropped somewhat, but did not die down. it raged furiously, its shriek dropped to a sullen and menacing roar. "such a hurricane as this," the "ol' doc" continued, "has taken many days to brew. day after day the air has remained in its ominous quietude over the surface of the ocean, becoming warmer and warmer, gathering strength for its devastating career. the water vapor has risen higher and higher. dense cumulus clouds have formed, the upper surfaces of which have caught all the sun's heat, intensifying the unstable equilibrium of the air. the powers of the tempest have grown steadily in all evil majesty of destructiveness. day by day, then hour by hour, then minute by minute, the awful force has been generated, as steam is generated by fierce furnace fires under a ship's boilers. "why, stuart, it has been figured that the air in a hurricane a hundred miles in diameter and a mile high, weighs as much as half-a-million atlantic liners, and this incredibly huge mass is driven at twice the speed of the fastest ship afloat. in these gusts, which come with the rain squalls, the wind will rise to a velocity of a hundred and twenty miles an hour. it strikes!" a crack of thunder deafened all, and green and violet lightning winked and flickered continuously. the hiss of the rain, the shrieking of the wind and the snapping crackle of the thunder defied speech. the heat in the hurricane wing was terrific, but stuart shivered with cold. it was the cold of terror, the cold of helplessness, the cold of being powerless in such an awful evidence of the occasional malignity of nature. between the approach of night and the closing in of the clouds, an inky darkness prevailed, though in the intervals between the outbursts of lightning, the sky had a mottled copper and green coloration, the copper being the edges of low raincloud-masses, and the green, the flying scud above. squall followed squall in ever-closer succession, the uproar changing constantly from the shriek of the hundred-mile wind in the squall to the dull roar of the fifty-mile wind in between. the thunder crackled, without any after-rumble, and the trembling of the ground could be felt from the pounding of the terrific waves half a mile away. then, in a long-drawn-out descending wail, like the howl of a calling coyote, the hurricane died down to absolute stillness. "whew!" exclaimed stuart, in relief. "i'm glad that's over." "over!" the scientist exclaimed. "the worst is to come! we're in the eye of the hurricane. look!" overhead the sky was almost clear, so clear that the stars could be seen, but the whirl of air, high overhead, made them twinkle so that they seemed to be dancing in their places. to seaward, a violet glow, throbbing and pulsating, showed where the lightning was playing. "i'm going out to see if all's safe," said the scientist. "do you want to come?" stuart would have rather not. but he dared not refuse. they had hardly left the hurricane wing and got to the outside, when "ol' doc" sniffed. "no," he said, "we'll go back. we're not full in the center. the edge will catch us again." he pointed. not slowly this time, but with a swiftness that made it seem unreal, a shape like a large hand rose out of the night and blotted out the stars. a distant clamor could be heard, at first faintly, and then with a growing speed, like the oncoming of an express train. "in with you, in!" cried the scientist. they rushed through the low passage and bolted the heavy door. then with a crash which seemed enough to tear a world from its moorings, the opposite side of the hurricane struck, all the worse in that it came without even a preparatory breeze. the noise, the tumult, the sense of the elements unchained in all their fury was so terrible that the boy lost all sense of the passage of time. the negroes no longer moaned or prayed. a stupor of paralysis seized them. so passed the night. towards morning, the painful rarefaction of the air diminished. the squalls of rain and all-devouring gusts of wind abated, and became less and less frequent. the sky turned gray. upon the far horizon rose again the cirrus arc, but with the dark above and the light below. majestically it rose and spanned the sky, and, under its rim of destruction, came the sunrise in its most peaceful colors of rose and pearl-gray, sunrise upon a ravaged island. over three hundred persons had been killed that night, and many millions of dollars of damage done. yet everyone in barbados breathed relief. the hurricane had passed. chapter x the lake of pitch still weak from his illness after the manchineel poisoning, and exhausted as he was after a sleepless night in the grip of a hurricane, yet stuart's first thought on leaving the hurricane wing was to get a news story to his paper. the spell of journalism was on him. around the "ol' doc's" place, the hurricane seemed to have done little damage. not a building had fallen. trees were stripped bare of their leaves, cane-fields laid low, but when the boy commented on this escape, the old scientist shook his head. "i built these structures with hurricanes in view," he said. "this old place will stand like a lighthouse. but you'll find it different in the negro quarters. alas! you will find mourning, everywhere." at the boy's urgency the botanist agreed to lend him a horse and light carriage and bade one of the negroes drive the lad to bridgetown. a hasty breakfast was swallowed, and, before six in the morning, stuart was on his way back across the island, his faithful typewriter beside him. they had not gone far before the real tragedy of the hurricane began to show itself. here was a house in splinters, and a group of people, crying, with bowed heads, told that death had been there. the fields were stripped bare. near corrington, a sugar factory showed a piece of broken wall as all that remained. the road had been washed away by the torrential floods. in a small settlement, some negroes were working in a frenzy around a mass of ruined cottages, from beneath which sounded dolorous cries. the carriage stopped and both stuart and the driver leaped out to aid. ten minutes' work unearthed three sufferers, two but slightly hurt, the third with his leg broken. alas! others were not so fortunate. rising smoke, here and there, showed where fire had followed the hurricane. instead of the songs of labor in the fields, nothing was to be heard but cries of distress. as the country grew more thickly settled, on the way to bridgetown, so was the suffering more intense and the death-roll heavier. the drive, not more than twelve miles in all, took over four hours, so littered was the road with fallen trees and the débris of houses. in the ruins of bridgetown, stuart met one of his newspaper friends, the news instinct still inspiring him to secure every detail of the catastrophe, though there was no newspaper office, the building being in ruins and the presses buried under an avalanche of brick. "the wires are down, too," said this newspaper man, "if i were you, i'd chase right over to trinidad. the mail steamer, which should have gone last night, hasn't left yet, or, at least, i don't think she has. she couldn't leave till the hurricane passed and the sea calmed down a bit. at present, we are cut off from the world. it'll take two or three days, a week, maybe, before the shore ends of the submarine cables are recovered. if you can catch that steamer, you'll be in trinidad this evening." "but suppose the cables are broken there, too?" suggested stuart. "they're not likely to be," his friend replied, "we just caught the southern end of the hurricane here--lucky we didn't get the middle!--and so trinidad is likely to have escaped entirely. but you'll have to hurry to catch that steamer. i'll get in touch with ol' doc, the best way i can, and send your trunk on to you down there. got your typewriter? that's all right, then. write your story on the boat. now, hurry up! here!" he shouted to a passing negro. "go down to the pier, pierre, get a boat, any boat, and take this passenger. he's got to catch the steamer." "me catch um!" and he did, though it was by the narrowest margin, for the mail steamer had steam up, and only waited until this last passenger should come aboard. stuart had counted on being able to enrich his account of the hurricane with personal stories from the passengers on the steamer, all of whom had been through the disaster, some on board ship and some ashore. there was no chance of this. although a glorious day, not a soul among the passengers was on deck. all were sleeping, for all, alike, had waked and watched. stuart was dropping with weariness and sleep, but he remembered what the managing editor had said to him about a "scoop" and he thought that this might be the great opportunity of his life to make a reputation for himself on his first trip out. a well-placed half-sovereign with the deck steward brought him a cup of strong coffee every two hours, and though his mind was fogged with weariness, so vivid had been his impressions that they could not help but be thrilling. though one of the most richly verdant of all the west india islands, trinidad had little beauty to stuart, on his first sight of it. he saw it through a haze of weariness, his eyes red-rimmed through lack of sleep. the harbor is shallow, and stuart, like other passengers, landed in a launch, but he had eyes only for one thing--the cable office. since his only luggage consisted of a portable typewriter--his trunk having been left behind at "ol' doc's"--the customs' examination was brief. at the cable office, stuart learned, to his delight, that not a message had either reached the office or gone out about the barbados hurricane. he had a scoop. he put his story on the wires, staggered across the street to the nearest hotel, threw off coat and boots and dropped upon the bed in an exhausted slumber. and, as an undercurrent to his dreams, rang the triumph song of the journalist: "a scoop!" stuart slept the clock round. it was evening again when he awoke. a wash to take the sleep out of his eyes, and down he went to see how big a dinner he could put away. but the doorman at the hotel, an east indian, came forward to him with a telegram on a salver. the boy tore it open, and read: "good--stuff--send--some more--fergus." and if stuart had been offered the governor generalship of all the west indian islands put together, he could not have been more proud. he spent the evening interviewing some of the passengers who had come on the mail steamer the day before and who had stayed in port of spain and, before midnight, filed at the cable office a good "second-day story." remembering what his friend the reporter had told him, stuart realized that though he was still sending this matter to fergus, as it was straight news stuff, it probably was being handled by the night telegraph staff. that would not help to fill fergus' columns in the sunday issue, and the boy realized that, no matter what live day stuff he got hold of, he must not fall behind in his series of articles on the color question in the west indies. this question--which takes on the proportions of a problem in everyone of the west indian islands--was very different in trinidad than in barbados. the peoples and languages of trinidad are strangely mixed. though it is an english colony, yet the language of the best families is spanish, and the general language of the negro population is creole french, a subvariant of that of haiti. the boy found, too, on his first long walks in the neighborhood of port-of-spain, that there was a large outer settlement of east indian coolies, and quite a number of chinese. the english, in trinidad, were few in number. in his quest for interviews about the hurricane, one of the chattiest of stuart's informants had been a mr. james, a resident of barbados, but whose commercial interests were mainly in trinidad. since, then, this gentleman evidently knew the life in both islands, his comparisons would be of value, and the following day stuart asked him for a second interview. "i'm starting out to my place on the nariva cocal," the planter replied, "going in about an hour. very glad to have you as my guest, if you wish, and the trip will give you a good view of the island. then we can chat on the way." stuart jumped at the opportunity. this was exactly what he was after, for the nariva cocal, with its thirteen-mile long coco-nut grove on the shore of the ocean, is famous. the boy knew, too, that this section was very difficult of access, the nariva river forming a mixture of river, tidal creek, lagoon, mangrove swamp and marsh, hard to cross. for some little distance out of port-of-spain the train passed through true tropical forests of a verdure not to be outrivaled in any part of the new world. "here," says treves, "is a very revel of green, a hoard, a pyramid, a piled-up cairn of green, rising aloft from an iris-blue sea. here are the dull green of wet moss, the clear green of the parrot's wing, the green tints of old copper, of malachite, of the wild apple, the bronze-green of the beetle's back, the dead green of the autumn nile." and these are expressed, not in plants, but in trees. the moss is waist-high, the ferns wave twenty feet overhead, the bamboo drapes a feathery fringe by every stream, the cocoa trees grow right up to the road or railroad which sweeps along as on an avenue between them, while at every crossing the white roadway is lined by the majestic sentinels of plantain, coco-nut palm and breadfruit tree. beyond st. joseph, the ground became a low plain, level and monotonous, and given over to sugar-cane. near d'abadie, this crop gave place to cocoa, the staple of the center of the island, and this extended through arima to sangre grande, the terminus of the railroad. during the trip stuart's host had enlightened him by an exact and painstaking description of the growing of these various crops and the methods of their preparation for market. at sangre grande, the railroad ended and a two-wheeled buggy was waiting. the planter ordered the east indian driver to follow in the motor-bus which conveys passengers to manzanilla, and took the reins himself, so as to give a place to stuart. the road had left the level, and passed over low hills and valleys all given over to cocoa trees. "see those bottles!" commented mr. james, pointing to bottles daubed with paint, bunches of white feathers and similar objects hung on trees at various points of the road. "yes," answered stuart, "what are they for?" "those are our police!" the planter explained. "this colony is well governed, but planters have had a good deal of trouble keeping the negroes from stealing. we used to engage a number of watchmen, and the police force in this part of the island was increased. it didn't do any good, you know! stealing went on just the same. "so my partner, down here, went and got hold of the chief obeah-man or witch-doctor of the island--paid him a good stiff price, too--and asked him to put a charm on the plantation. he did it, and those bottles and feathers are some of the charms. we pay for having them renewed every year. it costs a tidy bit, but less than the watchmen and police did." "and have the thefts stopped?" "absolutely. there hasn't been a shilling's worth of stuff touched since the obeah-man was here." "but obeah wouldn't have any effect on east indian coolies," objected stuart. "coolies don't steal," was the terse reply, "those that are mohammedans don't, any way. trinidad negroes do. they're different from the barbadian negroes, quite different. obeah seems to be about the only thing they care about." "i ran up against some obeah in haiti," remarked stuart, "though voodoo is stronger there." "i never heard of much real voodoo stuff here in the windward islands," the planter rejoined, "but obeah plays a big part in negro life. and, as i was just telling you, the whites aren't above using it, sometimes." "in haiti," responded stuart, "father and i once found an obeah sign in the road. father, who knows a lot about those things, read it as a charm to prevent any white man going that way. i thought it was silly to pay any attention, but father made a long detour around it. a week or so after i heard that a white trader had been driving along that road, and he drove right over the sign. half a mile on, his horse took fright, threw him out of the buggy and he was killed." the planter shrugged his shoulders. "i know," he said. "it's all right to call it coincidence, but down in these islands that kind of coincidence happens a bit too often. for me, i'll throw a shilling to an obeah-man any time i see one, and i won't play any tricks with charms if i know enough about them to keep away." the buggy jogged along at a smart pace until the shore was reached, and then set down the beach over the hard wet sand. on the one side heaved the long rollers of the atlantic, on the other was the continuous grove of coco-nut palms, thirteen miles long, one of the finest unbroken stretches in the entire world. a hospitable welcome was extended to stuart at the house of the nariva cocal, and, after dinner, the planter took him to the shores of the nariva river, not more than twenty or thirty yards from the house, which, at this place, had a bank free of marsh for a distance of perhaps a couple of hundred yards. "it was just at a place like this, but a little higher up-stream," said the planter, "that the snake story happened which kingsley described in 'at last.' four girls were bathing in this river, because the surf is too heavy for sea-bathing, and one of them, who had gone into the water partly dressed, felt something clutch at her dress. "it was a huge anaconda. "the other three girls, with a good deal of pluck, i think, rushed into the shallow water and grabbed hold of their comrade. the snake did not let go, but the dress was torn from her body by the wrestle between the strength of the reptile and that of the four girls. i know one of the sisters quite well. she's an old woman, now, but she lives in sangre grande, still." turning from the river, stuart and the planter strolled some distance down the knife-like sandy ridge between the ocean and the swamp. this narrow ridge, at no point a hundred yards wide and averaging less than half that, contains over , palms, and this plantation alone helps to make trinidad one of the greatest coco-nut markets of the world. "i notice," said stuart, anxious to get material for his articles, "that nearly all your laborers here are east indian coolies. are they better than negroes?" "they come here under different conditions," explained the planter. "the negro is free to work or not, as he chooses, but the coolie is indentured. he has to work. he earns less than the negro, but, by the time we pay his voyage and all the various obligations that we have to undertake for an indentured laborer, the coolie isn't much cheaper to us than the negro. but, while the negro can do more work in a day than the coolie, he won't. moreover, if he feels, after a few days' work, that he has had enough of it, he just goes away. a trinidad negro with a pound or two in his pocket won't do a tap of work until the last penny be spent. the coolie will work quietly, steadily, continuously. what is more, he saves his money. that's bringing about a deuced curious situation in trinidad, you know. "one of the queer things about the west indies, as you know yourself, having lived in cuba, is that there is really no middle class. here, in trinidad, there are the wealthy spanish families and the english officials and planters. the blacks are the laborers. for many decades there has been no class between. now, the east indians, who came here as coolies, are beginning to follow the commercial instinct of the east, and to open small shops or to buy land. hence the negro, who used to despise and look down on the coolie because he worked for even less money, is now finding himself subordinate to an east indian class which has risen to be his superior. then the east indians have commenced rice-growing, and now are employing negroes, oversetting the old social basis. "there's one thing, son, which few people realize in this color question in the west indies. that is that the negro has not got the instincts of a shopkeeper. he doesn't take to trade, ever. if he gets educated, he wants at once to be a doctor, a lawyer, or, still more, a preacher. but this is a commercial age, and any race which shows itself unfitted for commerce is bound to stay the under dog, you know. trinidad shows that, given equal conditions, the east indian coolie will rise, the negro will not." the following morning, mr. james having gone over the books of the plantation with his manager, the two started back for port-of-spain. "why don't you live here, mr. james?" asked the boy. "it's a lovely spot, in that coco-nut grove, with the sea right at your doors." "climate, my boy," was the answer. "i told you, on the way over here, that trinidad is reckoned one of the most prosperous islands of the west indies--though it really belongs more to the coast of south america than it does to the antilles--but, if you stop to think for a moment, you'll see that the prosperity of trinidad is due to the fact that it has a warm, moist, even climate all the year round. that's fine for cocoa and coco-nuts, but it's not good for humans. the warm moist air of trinidad is deuced enervating. no, let me go back to barbados. it may not be as beautiful--i'll admit that it isn't--but at least there is a north-east breeze nearly all the year round to keep me jolly cool." the two travelers talked of various subjects, but, once more aboard the train at sangre grande, the question of trinidad's wealth recurred to stuart, and he sought further information. "you spoke of the island as being prosperous, mr. james," he said. "has the pitch lake, discovered so many centuries ago by sir walter raleigh, had anything to do with it?" "directly, not such a great deal, though, of course, it is a steady source of income, especially to the crown. asphalt is less than a twentieth part of the value of the exports of the island, so, you see, trinidad would have been rich without that. indirectly, of course, the pitch lake has been the means of attracting attention to the island, especially in earlier times. the facts that trinidad is out of the hurricane track and off the earthquake belt have had a good deal to do with its prosperity, too, you know. my friend cecil always declares that trinidad and jamaica together, the two richest of the west indian islands, ought to run the whole cluster of caribbean islands, just as little england runs the whole british empire." "who was it said that?" asked stuart curiously, though his heart was thumping with excitement. "a chap i know, cecil, guy cecil, sort of a globe-trotter. one of the biggest shareholders in this pitch lake. funny sort of johnny. know him?" "i--i think i've met him," answered the boy. "tall, eyes a very light blue, almost colorless, speaks very correct english, fussy about his clothes and doesn't talk about himself much." "that's the very man!" cried the planter, "i couldn't have described him better myself. where did you meet him?" stuart answered non-committally and steered the subject into other channels, determining within himself that he would certainly go out to the pitch lake, if only with the hope of finding out something more about this mysterious guy cecil, whose name seemed to be cropping up everywhere. the following day, having seen his friend the planter off on the homeward bound mail steamer, stuart prepared for his visit to the famous pitch lake, though the planter had warned him that he would be disappointed. going by railway to fernando, stuart took a small steamer to la brea, the shipping point for the asphalt, a town, which, by reason of its association with pitch, has a strange and unnatural air. the beach is covered with pieces of pitch, encrusted with sand and stones, worn by the water into the most grotesque shapes and forming so many resting-places for hundreds of pelicans. some of these blocks of hardened asphalt had been polished by the sea until they shone like jewels of jet as large as a table, others, fringed with green seaweed, gave the shore an uncanny appearance of a sea-beach not of this earth. unlike the universally white towns of the west indies, la brea is black. the impress of pitch is everywhere. the pier is caked with the pitch, the pavements are pitch, and, on the only street in the town as stuart passed, he saw a black child, sitting on a black boulder of pitch, and playing with a black doll made of pitch. taking a negro boy as a guide, stuart started for the famous deposit of asphalt, about one mile inland. the countryside leading thither was not absolutely barren, but it was scrawny and dismal. a coarse sand alternated with chunks of black asphalt. a few trees managed to find a foothold here and there, and there was sparse vegetation in patches. there was nothing exciting, nothing momentous in the approach to the lake. nor was there anything startling in the sight of the lake itself. although previously warned, stuart could not repress an exclamation of disappointed surprise at his first view of this famous lake, the greatest deposit of natural asphalt in the world. a circular depression, so slight that it was hard for the boy to realize that it was a depression at all, had, toward its center, a smaller flat, acres in extent. there were no flames, no sulphurous steam, no smoke, no bubbling whirls of viscid matter, nothing exciting whatever. the stretch before him resembled nothing so much as mud-flat with the tide out. the dried-up bed of a large park pond, with a small island or two of green shrubbery, and some very scrawny palms around the edge would exactly represent the famous pitch lake of trinidad. arriving at the edge, stuart stepped on the lake with the utmost precaution, for he had read that the lake was both warm and liquid. both were true. but the warmth was only slight, and the liquidity was so dense that, when a piece of pitch was taken out, it took several hours for the slow-moving mass to fill up the hole. "the sensation that walking upon this substance gave," writes treves, "was no other than that of treading upon the flank of some immense beast, some titanic mammoth lying prostrate in a swamp. the surface was black, it was dry and minutely wrinkled like an elephant's skin, it was blood-warm, it was soft and yielded to the tread precisely as one would suppose that an acre of solid flesh would yield. the general impression was heightened by certain surface creases, where the hide seemed to be turned in as in the folds behind an elephant's ears. these skin furrows were filled with water, as if the collapsed animal was perspiring. "the heat of the air was great, the light was almost blinding, while the shimmer upon the baked surface, added to the swaying of one's feet in soft places, gave rise to the idea that the mighty beast was still breathing, and that its many-acred flank actually moved." the task of taking the pitch out of this lake, stuart found to be as prosaic as the lake itself. laborers, with picks, broke off large pieces--which showed a dull blue cleavage--while other laborers lifted the pieces on their heads--the material is light--and carried them to trucks, running on a little railroad on the surface of the lake, and pulled by a cable line. the tracks sink into the lake, little by little, and have to be pried up and moved to a new spot every three days, but as they are specially constructed for this, the labor is trifling. the laborers work right beside the railroad trucks. it makes no difference where the ditch is dug, from which the asphalt is taken, as the hole left the night before is filled again by the following morning. it has been estimated that this deposit alone contains over , , tons of asphalt. it is feet deep, and though enormous quantities of the stuff have been taken out, the level has not fallen more than ten feet. in the lake are certain small islands, which move around from place to place, apparently following some little-known currents in the lower layers of the pitch. stuart went on to the factory, hoping to get some further information about guy cecil, but met with a sudden and unexpected rebuff. not only did no one about the place seem to know the name, but they refused to admit that they recognized the description, and seemed to resent the questions. trying to change the subject, stuart commenced to ask questions about where the asphalt came from, and the manager, who seemed to be a canadian, turned on the boy, sharply. "see here," he said, "i don't know who you are, nor where you come from. but i'll give a civil answer to a civil question. as for this cecil, i don't know anything about him. as for where this asphalt come from, i don't know, and nobody knows. some say it's inorganic, some say is from vegetable deposits of a long time ago, some say it's fish. the chemists are still scrapping about it. nobody knows. now, is there anything more?" the manner of the response was not one to lead stuart to further attempts. he shook his head, and with a curt farewell went back to la brea, fernando and port de spain. at the hotel he found a telegram. "get--story--present--condition--st. pierre--martinique--fergus." two days later stuart boarded the steamer for martinique, the island of the volcano. chapter xi the morning of doom "ay," said the first mate to stuart, as they paced the bridge on the little steamer which was taking the boy to martinique, "yonder little island is st. lucia, maybe the most beautiful of the west indies, though it isn't safe for folks to wander around much there." "why?" asked stuart in surprise, "are the negroes mutinous?" "no, bless ye!" the mate gave a short laugh. "mighty nice folks in st. lucia, though castries, the capital, is a great fever town. it isn't the folks that are dangerous. snakes, my bully boy, snakes! it's the home of the fer-de-lance." "the yellow viper?" queried stuart. "the same. an' the name's a good one. it's more viperous than any other snake of the viper bunch, an' its disposition is mean and yellow right through. ever see one?" "no," said stuart, "i haven't. i heard there were some in trinidad, and there have been a few reported in cuba. but i guess they're rare there. what do they look like?" the mate spat freely over the side, while he gathered his powers for a description. "if ye can think of a fish that's been a long time dead," he suggested, "an' has turned a sort of phosphorescent brown-yellow in decayin', ye'll have a general idea of the color. the head, like all the vipers, is low, flat an' triangle-shaped. the eye is a bright orange color, an' so shinin' that flashes from it look like sparks of red-yellow fire. i've never seen them at night, but folks who have, say that in the dark the eyes look like glowin' charcoal. "if i had to take a walk through the st. lucia woods, i'd put on armor, i would! why, any minute, something you take for a branch, a knot of liana, a clump of fruit, a hangin' air-plant, may take life an' strike. an' that's all ye'll ever know in this world." "there's no cure for it?" "none. a little while after a fer-de-lance strikes, ye're as dead as if you'd been dropped in mid-atlantic, with a shot tied to your feet." "maybe i'm just as glad i'm not going to land there," said stuart, "though i guess it's one of the most famous fighting spots of the world. i read once that for a hundred and fifty years there was never a year without a battle on that island. seven times it was held by the english and seven times by the french." "like enough," replied the mate. "it's owned by the english now, but castries is a french town, through and through. but castries sticks in my memory for a reason which means more to a deep-water sailor than any land fightin'. we were lyin' in the harbor at castries when the _roddam_ came in, ay, more'n twenty years ago." "what was the _roddam_?" queried stuart, scenting a story. "have ye forgotten," answered the mate in a return query, "or didn't ye ever know? let me tell ye what the _roddam_ was!" "we were lyin' right over there, in castries harbor, dischargin' coal--which was carried down by negro women in baskets on their heads--when we saw creep round the headland of vigie, where you can see the old barracks from here, the shape of a steamer. she came slowly, like some wounded an' crippled critter. clear across the bay we could hear her screw creakin,' an' her engines clankin' like they were all poundin' to pieces. what a sight she was! we looked at her, struck still ourselves an' unable to speak. they talk of a phantom ship, but if ever anything looked like a phantom steamer, the _roddam_ was that one. "from funnel-rim to water-line she was grey an' ghost-like, lookin' like a boat seen in an ugly dream. every scrap o' paint had been burned from her sides, or else was hangin' down from the bare iron like flaps o' skin. she had been flayed alive, an' she showed it. some of her derricks were gone, the ropes charred an' the wires endin' in blobs o' melted metal. the planks of her chart-house were blackened. her ventilators had crumpled into masses without any shape. "laborin' like a critter in pain, she managed to make shallow water, an' a rattle o' chain told o' the droppin' o' the anchor. after that, nothin'! there wasn't a sign o' life aboard. "the harbor folks pulled out to take a look at the craft. as they came near, the smell o' fire an' sulphur met them. a hush, like death, seemed to hang over her. the colored boatmen quit rowin', but the harbor-master forced them on. her ladder was still down. the harbor-master climbed aboard. "on deck, nothin' moved. the harbor-master stepped down into grey ashes, sinkin' above his knee. with a scream he drew back. the ashes were hot, almost white-hot, below. the light surface ash flew up about him and half-suffocated him. his boot half-burned from his foot and chokin', the harbor-master staggered back to the rail for air. "no life was to be seen, nothin' but piles o' grey ash, heaped in mounds. ash was everywhere. from it rose a quivering heat, smellin' o' sulphur an' the pit. "yet everyone couldn't be dead on this ghost-ship, for someone must ha' steered her into the harbor, an' dropped the anchor. makin' his way along the rail, the harbor-master made his way to where he could reach the iron ladder goin' to the bridge, an' climbed it. the bridge was clear of ash, blown free by the mornin' breeze. "the chart-house door was open. in it, lyin' across the steam steerin' wheel, was captain freeman, unconscious. his face was so blistered that his eyes were nearly shut. his hair was singed right down to the skull. his hands were raw an' bleedin'. his clothes were scorched into something that was black an' brittle. the harbor-master lifted him, an' laid him on the chart-house bunk." "what others were there?" "pickin' his way, he got to the bow an' found the deck hand who had let down the anchor. he was blind an' his flesh was crisped and cracking. "from below, crawled up four o' the engine-room crew. most o' the others aboard lay dead under those heaps o' hot ash on the deck." "what had happened?" "this had happened. the _roddam_ had been through the eruption of mont pelée, the only ship which escaped o' the eighteen that were in the harbor. she got away only because she made port just fifty-two minutes before the eruption, an' had been ordered to the quarantine station, some distance off." "did you see anything of the eruption yourself?" "we knew that somethin' had happened, even down here in st. lucia. it turned almost as black as night for a few minutes, an' our skipper, who was ashore, said he had felt a slight earthquake. but we saw enough of it, right after." "how?" queried stuart. "we had a lot o' foodstuff in our cargo, some of which was billed for caracas. but, as soon as we heard the story, our captain told the engineer to get up full steam an' make for fort-de-france. he knew the owners would have wanted him to go to the relief of the folks of martinique. we got there the next day an' saw sights! sights i can't ever forget!" the eruption of mont pelée and the destruction of the town of st. pierre, in , over , people being killed in the space of three seconds, was one of the most tragic disasters of history, and the ruins of st. pierre are today the most astounding ruins that the world contains of so vast and terrible a calamity, outrivaling those of pompeii. the cataclysm did not come without warning. as early as march , a scientist ascended the volcano and reported that a small crater was in eruption. by the end of april, to quote from heilprin, "vast columns of steam and ash had been and were being blown out, boiling mud was flowing from its sides and terrific rumblings came from its interior. lurid lights hung over the crown at night-time, and lightning flashed in dazzling sheets through the cloud-world. what further warnings could any volcano give?" on april , a crater broke into a small eruption, throwing out showers of rock-material, which, however, did not reach the town, distant a mile from the foot of the volcano. on may , an avalanche of boiling mud, many acres wide, tumbled down from the volcano, and went roaring along the bed of the rivière blanche at the rate of a mile a minute. a large sugar factory was engulfed and some lives lost. on may and , the sulphur fumes were so strong in the streets that horses, and even people, dropped from suffocation. again--what further warning could any volcano give? there were other warnings. on april , light ashes had begun to fall. on may an excursion was announced for the summit of mont pelée for those who wished to see a volcano in action, but that morning a deeper coat of ashes blanched the streets. the jardin des plantes--one of the richest tropical gardens of the west indies--lay buried beneath a cap of gray and white. the heights above the city seemed snow-clad. the country roads were blocked and obliterated, and horses would neither work nor travel. birds fell in their noiseless flight, smothered by the ash that surrounded them, or asphyxiated by poisonous vapors or gases that were being poured into the atmosphere. "the rain of ashes never ceases," the local paper wrote on may . "at about half-past nine, the sun shone forth timidly. the passing of carriages is no longer heard in the streets. the wheels are muffled. many business houses are closed to customers.... the excursion which had been organized for tomorrow morning cannot take place, the crater being absolutely inaccessible. those who had planned to take part will be informed on what date this excursion will become possible." on may the paper wrote: "the sea is covered in patches with dead birds. many lie asphyxiated on the roads. the cattle suffer greatly, asphyxiated by the dust of ashes. the children of the planters wander aimlessly about the courtyards, with their little donkeys, like human wrecks. they are no longer black, but white, and look as if hoar frost had formed upon them.... desolation, aridity and eternal silence prevail over the countryside." next day, may , was the day when the mud crater opened. it was followed by an upsurging wave from the ocean, which added to the fear of the people, but which receded slowly and with little damage. on the day following, pelée was shrouded in a heavy cloud, and ashes and cinders fell over a wide stretch of country. the surface waters had disappeared. trees had been burned of their leaves. yet a commission appointed to investigate the condition of the volcano made light of it, saying "the relative position of the craters and the valleys, leading towards the sea, enables the statement that the safety of st. pierre is complete." wednesday, may , opened one of the saddest and most terrorizing of the many days that led up to the final eruption. since four o'clock in the morning, mont pelée had been hoarse with its roaring, and vivid lightning flashed through its shattered clouds. thunder rolled over its head, and lurid glares played across the smoky column which towered aloft. "some say," says heilprin, "that at this time it showed two fiery crater-mouths, which shone out like fire-filled blast furnaces. the volcano seemed prepared for a last effort. "when daylight broke through the clouds and cast its softening rays over the roadstead, another picture of horror rose to the eyes. the shimmering waters of the open sea were loaded with wreckage of all kinds--islands of débris from field and forest and floating fields of pumice and jetsam. as far as the eye could reach, it saw but a field of desolation." the river of basse-pointe overflowed with a torrent of black water, which carried several houses away. black rains fell. again, and for the last time--could a volcano give any further warning? yet the governor, a scientific commission, and the local paper joined in advising the inhabitants of st. pierre not to flee the city, the article closing with the words, "mont pelée presents no more dangers to the inhabitants of st. pierre than does vesuvius to those of naples." next day the governor was dead, the members of the commission were dead, the editor was dead, and the presses on which this article had been printed had, in one blast, been fused into a mass of twisted metal. came the th of may, . shortly after midnight the thunders ceased for a while, but by four o'clock, two hours before the shadows of night had lifted, an ominous cloud was seen flowing out to sea, followed in its train by streaks of fiery cinders. the sun was barely above the horizon when the roaring began again. the vicar-general describes these sounds as follows: "i distinguished clearly four kinds of noises; first the clap of thunder, which followed the lightning at intervals of twenty seconds; then the mighty muffled detonations of the volcano, like the roaring of many cannon fired simultaneously; third, the continuous rumbling of the crater, which the inhabitants designated the 'roaring of the lion,' and then last, as though furnishing the bass for this gloomy music, the deep noise of the swelling waters, of all the torrents which take their source upon the mountain, generated by an overflow such as has never yet been seen. this immense rising of thirty streams at once, without one drop of water having fallen on the sea-coast, gives some idea of the cataracts which must pour down upon the summit from the storm-clouds gathered around the crater." "hundreds of agonized people," writes heilprin, in his great scientific work on the catastrophe, "had gathered to their devotions in the cathedral and the cathedral square, this being ascension day, but probably there were not many among them who did not feel that the tide of the world had turned, for even through the atmosphere of the sainted bells, the fiery missiles were being hurled to warn of destruction. the fate of the city and of its inhabitants had already been sealed. "the big hand of the clock of the military hospital had just reached the minute mark of : a.m. when a great brown cloud was seen to issue from the side of the volcano, followed almost immediately by a cloud of vapory blackness, which separated from it and took a course downward to the sea. deafening detonations from the interior preceded this appearance, and a lofty white pennant was seen to rise from the summit of the volcano. "with wild fury the black cloud rolled down the mountain slope, pressing closely the contours of the valley along which had previously swept the mud-flow that overwhelmed the factory three days before, and spreading fan-like to the sea. "in two minutes, or less, it had reached the doomed city, a flash of blinding intensity parted its coils, and st. pierre was ablaze. the clock of the military hospital halted at : a.m.--a historic time-mark among the ruins, the recorder of one of the greatest catastrophic events that are written in the history of the world." just before the cloud struck, its violet-grey center showed, and the forepart of this was luminous. it struck the town with the fury of a tornado of flame. whirls of fire writhed spirally about it. the mountain had belched death, death in many forms: death by fire, death by poisonous gases, death by a super-furnace heat, but, principally, death by a sudden suffocation, the fiery and flaming cloud having consumed all the breathable air. whole streets of houses were mown down by the flaming scythe. walls three to four feet in thickness were blown away like paper. massive machinery was crumpled up as if it had been clutched in a titanic white-hot metal hand. the town was raked by a hurricane of incandescent dust and super-heated gas. the violet luminosity, with its writhing serpents of flame, was followed in a second or two by a thousand points of light as the town took fire, followed, almost instantaneously, by a burst of light of every color in the spectrum, as a thousand substances leaped into combustion, and then, in a moment---- night! an impenetrable cloud of smoke and ash absolutely blotted out the sun. the sky was covered. the hills were hidden. the sea was as invisible as at midnight. even the grayness of the ash gave back no light; there was none to give. three seconds had elapsed since the violet-gray cloud of fury struck the town, but in those three seconds , people lay dead, slain with such appalling swiftness that none knew their fate. no one had tried to escape. the eruption was witnessed, from a distance, by only one trained observer, roger arnoux, and a translation of his record is, in part, as follows: "having left st. pierre at about five in the evening (may ) i was witness to the following spectacle: enormous rocks, being clearly distinguishable, were being projected from the crater to a considerable elevation, so high, indeed, as to occupy a quarter of a minute in their flight. "about eight o'clock of the evening we recognized for the first time, playing about the crater, fixed fires that burned with a brilliant white flame. shortly afterwards, several detonations, similar to those that had been heard at st. pierre, were noted coming from the south, which confirmed me in my opinion that there already existed a number of submarine craters from which gases were being projected, to explode when coming in contact with the air. "having retired for the night, at about nine o'clock, i awoke shortly afterwards in the midst of a suffocating heat and completely bathed in perspiration.... i awoke again about eleven thirty-five, having felt a trembling of the earth ... but again went to sleep, waking at half-past seven. my first observation was of the crater, which i found sufficiently calm, the vapors being chased swiftly under pressure of an east wind. "at about eight o'clock, when still watching the crater (m. arnoux was the only man who saw the beginning of the eruption and lived to tell the tale), i noted a small cloud pass out, followed two seconds after by a considerable cloud, whose flight to the pointe de carbet (beyond the city) _occupied less than three seconds_, being at the same time already in our zenith, thus showing that it developed almost as rapidly in height as in length. the vapors were of a violet-gray color and seemingly very dense, for, although endowed with an almost inconceivably powerful ascensive force, they retained to the zenith their rounded summits. innumerable electric scintillations played through the chaos of vapors, at the same time that the ears were deafened by a frightful fracas. "i had, at this time, an impression that st. pierre had been destroyed.... as the monster seemed to near us, my people, panic-stricken, ran to a neighboring hillock that dominated the house, begging me to do the same.... hardly had we arrived at the summit when the sun was completely veiled, and in its place came almost complete blackness.... at this time we observed over st. pierre, a column of fire, estimated to be , feet in height, which seemed to be endowed with the movement of rotation as well as onward movement." st. pierre was no more. rescuers were soon on their way. twenty-three minutes after the clouds had been seen rising from mont pelée and the cable and telephone lines were broken, a little steamer left fort-de-france, the capital. it reached half-way, then, finding that the rain of stones and ashes threatened to sink it, returned. the boat started anew at ten o'clock and rounded the point of carbet. the volcano was shrouded in smoke and ashes. for three miles the coast was in flames. seventeen vessels in the roadstead, two of which were american steamers, burned at anchor. the heat from this immense conflagration prevented the boat from proceeding and it returned to fort-de-france, reaching there at one o'clock, bringing the sinister tidings. at midday, the acting governor of martinique ordered the _suchet_ to go with troops to be under the direction of the governor, then at st. pierre. about three o'clock, a party was landed on the shore. the pier was covered with bodies. the town was all in fire and in ruins. the heat was such that the landing party could not endure more than three or four minutes. the governor was dead also. "st. pierre," writes a witness on another rescue ship, which arrived at almost the same moment, "is no more. its ruins stretch before us, in their shroud of smoke and ashes, gloomy and silent, a city of the dead. our eyes seek the inhabitants fleeing distracted, or returning to look for the dead. nothing to be seen. no living soul appears in this desert of desolation, encompassed by appalling silence.... through the clouds of ashes and of smoke diffused in our atmosphere, the sun breaks wan and dim, as it is never seen in our skies, and throws over the whole picture a sinister light, suggestive of a world beyond the grave." two of the inhabitants, and two only, escaped; one a negro prisoner, who was not found until three days later, burned half to death in his prison cell; and one, a shoemaker, who, by some strange eddy in the all-killing gas, and who was on the very edge of the track of destruction, fled, though others fell dead on every side of him. a second eruption, coupled with an earthquake, on may , completed the wreckage of the buildings. this outburst was even more violent than the first. there was no loss of life, for no one was left to slay. five years later, sir frederick treves visited st. pierre. "along the whole stretch of the bay," he writes, "there is not one living figure to be seen, not one sign of human life, not even a poor hut, nor grazing cattle.... a generous growth of jungle has spread over the place in these five years. rank bushes, and even small trees, make a thicket along some of the less traversed ways.... over some of the houses luxuriant creepers have spread, while long grass, ferns and forest flowers have filled up many a court and modest lane." twelve years later, a visitor to st. pierre found a small wooden pier erected. a tiny hotel had been built. huts were clustering under the ruins. several parties were at work clearing away the ruins, but slowly, for the government of the colony would not assist in the work, believing that the region was unsafe. at the time of this visit, mont pelée was still smoking. this was the ruined city which stuart was going to see. on board the steamer were the two or three books which tell the story of the great eruption, and the boy filled his brain full of the terrible story that he might better feel the great adventure that the next day should bring him. the steamer reached fort-de-france in the evening, and the boy found the town, though ill-lighted, gay. a band was playing in the plaza, not far from the landing place and most of the shops were still open. morning showed an even brighter fort-de-france, for, though when st. pierre was in its glory, fort-de-france was the lesser town, the capital now is the center of the commercial prosperity of the island. for this, however, stuart had little regard. sunrise found him on the little steamer which leaves daily for st. pierre. the journey was not long, three hours along a coast of steep cliffs with verdant mountains above. small fishing hamlets, half-hidden behind coco-nut palms, appeared in every cove. the steamer passed carbet, that town on the edge of the great eruptive flood, which had its own death-list, and they turned the point of land into the harbor of st. pierre. before the boy's eyes rose the mountain of destruction, sullen, twisted, wrinkled and still menacing, not all silent yet. the hills around were green, and verdure spread over the country once deep in volcanic ash. but mont pelée was brown and bald still. nineteen years had passed since the eruption, but st. pierre had not recovered. at first sight, from the sea, the town gave a slight impression of being rebuilt. but this was only the strange combination of old ruins and modern fishing huts. the handsome stone wharves still stood, but no vessels lay beside them. the little steamer slowed and tied up at a tiny wooden pier. a statue, symbolical of st. pierre in her agony, had been erected on the end of the pier. the boy landed, and walked slowly along the frail wooden structure, to take in the scene as it presented itself to him. alas, for st. pierre! as lafcadio hearn described it--"the quaint, whimsical, wonderfully colored little town, the sweetest, queerest, darlingest little city in the antilles.... walls are lemon color, quaint balconies and lattices are green. palm trees rise from courts and gardens into the warm blue sky, indescribably blue, that appears almost to touch the feathery heads of them. and all things within and without the yellow vista are steeped in a sunshine electrically white, in a radiance so powerful that it lends even to the pavement of basalt the glitter of silver ore. "everywhere rushes mountain water--cool and crystal--clear, washing the streets; from time to time you come to some public fountain flinging a silvery column to the sun.... and often you will note, in the course of a walk, little drinking fountains contrived in the angle of a building, or in the thick walls bordering the bulwarks or enclosing public squares; glittering threads of water spurting through lion-lips of stone." alas for st. pierre! above the pier but one street had been partly restored, and, at every gap, the boy's gaze encountered gray ruins. the ash, poured out by the mountain in its vast upheaval, has made a rich soil. to stuart's eyes, the town was a town of dreams, of great stone staircases that led to nowhere, of high archways that gave upon a waste. the entrance hall of the great cathedral, once one of the finest in the west indies, still leads to the high altar, but that finds its home in a little wooden structure with a tin roof, shrinking in what was once a corner of the apse. built as a lean-to in the corner of what had once been a small, but strongly-built house was a store, a very small store, outside the door of which a crippled negro was sitting. thinking that this might be one of the old-timers of st. pierre, stuart stopped and bought a small trinket, partly as a memento, partly as a means of getting into conversation. "but yes, monsieur," answered the storekeeper, "it was my wife and i--we escaped. my wife, she had been sent into morne rouge, that very morning, with a message from her mistress. me, i was working on the road, not more than a mile away. i saw nothing of it, monsieur. about half-past seven that morning (twenty-two minutes, therefore, before the final eruption) a shower of stones fell where i was working. one fell on my back, and left me crippled, as you see. but my four children, ah! monsieur, they sleep here, somewhere!" he waved his hand toward the riot of ruin and foliage which now marks the city which once prided itself on being called "the gayest little city in the west indies." "yet you have come back!" exclaimed stuart. "but yes, monsieur, what would you? it pleased god that i should be born here, that my children should be taken away from me here; and, maybe, that i should die here, too." "you are not afraid that mont pelée will begin again?" the negro shrugged his shoulders. "it is my home, monsieur," he said simply. "better a home which is sad than the place of a stranger which is gay. but we hope, monsieur, that some day the government of martinique will accept a parole of good conduct from the great eater of lives"--he pointed to mont pelée--"and give us back our town again." next morning, studying the life of the little town, stuart found that many others shared the view of the crippled negro. the little market-place on the place bertin, though lacking any shelter from pouring rain or blazing sun, was crowded with three or four hundred market women. daily the little steamer takes a cargo from st. pierre, for the ash from the volcano has enriched the soil, and the planters are growing wealthy. there are many more little houses and thatched huts tucked into corners of the ruins than appear at first sight, and a hotel has been built for the tourists who visit the strange spot. the crater in mont pelée is silent now; the great vent which hurled white-hot rocks, incandescent dust and mephitic gases, is now covered with a thick green shrubbery, only here and there do small smoke-holes emit a light sulphurous vapor; but the great mountain, treeless, wrinkled, implacable, seemed to stuart to throw a solemn shadow of threat upon the town. the secret of st. pierre, as stuart wrote to his paper, "lies in the hope of its inhabitants, but its real future lies in the parole of good conduct from the great eater of human lives, mont pelée." chapter xii a corsair's death there is not a corner of the world which is more full of historic memories than is the west indies. dominica, the next island which stuart passed after he had left martinique, besides being one of the scenic glories of the world, described as "a tabernacle for the sun, a shrine of a thousand spires, rising tier above tier, in one exquisite fabric of green, purple and grey," has many claims to fame. here, the cannibal caribs were so fierce that for years they defied the successive fleets of spaniards, french and english who tried to take possession of the island. some three hundred caribs still dwell upon the island upon a reservation provided by the government. the warriors no longer make war, and fish has taken the place of the flesh of their enemies as a staple diet. under the cliffs of dominica is a memory of the civil war, for there the confederate vessel _alabama_ finally escaped the federal man-of-war _iroquois_. a few miles further north, between dominica and guadeloupe, in the saints passage, was fought, in , the great sea-battle between rodney and de grasse, which ended in the decisive victory of the english over the french and gave britain the mastery of the caribbean sea. it ranks as one of the great historic sea-fights of the world. the next island on the direct line to the north, st. kitts, is not destitute of fame. as cecil had told stuart, st. kitts or st. christopher was first a home for buccaneers, and later one of the keys to the military occupation of the west indies. its neighbor, st. nevis, together with other claims to romance, has a special interest to the united states in that alexander hamilton--perhaps one of the greatest of american statesmen--was born there. near st. kitts lies antigua, where the _most blessed trinity_--despite her name, one of the most famous pirate craft afloat--settled after her bloody cruises. its captain was bartholomew sharp, described as "an acrid-looking villain whose scarred face had been tanned to the color of old brandy, whose shaggy brows were black with gunpowder, and whose long hair, half singed off in a recent fight, was tied up in a nun's wimple. he was dressed in the long embroidered coat of a spanish grandee, and, as there was a bullet hole in the back of the garment, it may be surmised that the previous owner had come to a violent end. his hose of white silk were as dirty as the deck, his shoe buckles were of dull silver." sharp, with buccaneers, had left the west indies in april, . they landed on the mainland, and, crossing the isthmus, made for panama. having secured canoes, they attacked the spanish fleet lying at perico, an island off panama city, and, after one of the most desperate fights recorded in the annals of piracy, they took all the ships, including the _most blessed trinity_. then followed a long record of successful piracy, of battle, murder and sudden death, of mutiny and slaughter grim and great. sharp, who, with all his crimes, was as good a navigator as he was reckless a fighter, sailed the _most blessed trinity_ with his crew of desperadoes the whole length of south america, rounded the horn and, after eighteen months of adventure, peril and hardship, reached the west indies again. "the log of the voyage," writes treves, "affords lurid reading. it records how they landed and took towns, how they filled the little market squares with corpses, how they pillaged the churches, ransacked the houses and then committed the trembling places to the flames. "it tells how they tortured frenzied men until, in their agony, they told of hiding places where gold was buried; how they spent an unholy christmas at juan fernandez; how, in a little island cove, they fished with a greasy lead for golden pieces which drake is believed to have thrown overboard for want of carrying room. it gives account of a cargo of sugar and wine, of tallow and hides, of bars of silver and pieces of eight, of altar chalices and ladies' trinkets, of scented laces, and of rings torn from the clenched and still warm fingers of the dead. "the 'valiant commander' had lost many of his company on the dangerous voyage. some had died in battle; others had mumbled out their lives in the delirium of fever, sunstroke or drink; certain poor souls, with racked joints and bleeding backs, were crouching in spanish prisons; one had been marooned on a desert island in the southern pacific ocean." at the last, sharp turned over the ship to the remainder of his crew and set sail, rich and respected (!) for england. on the way from st. kitts to st. thomas, stuart passed the two strange islands of st. eustatius and saba, remnants of the once great dutch power in the west indies. statia, as the first island is generally called, is a decadent spot, its commerce fallen to nothing, the warehouses along the sea-front of its only town, in ruins. yet once, strange as it may seem, for a few brief months, statia became the scene of a wild commercial orgy, and the place where once was held "the most stupendous auction in the history of the universe." it happened thus: when the american revolulutionary war broke out, england being already at war with france, commercial affairs in the west indies became complicated by the fact that the spanish, the french and the english, all enacted trading restrictions so stringent that practically every port in the west indies was closed. the dutch, seizing the opportunity, made statia a free port. immediately, the whole of french, english, spanish, dutch and american trade was thrown upon the tiny beach of fort oranje. more than that, statia became the center for contraband of war. all the other islands took advantage of this. statia became a huge arsenal. american privateers and blockade-runners were convoyed by dutch men-of-war, which, of course, could not be attacked. smugglers were amply provided with dutch papers. goods poured in from europe every day in the week. rich owners of neighboring islands, not knowing how the french-english strife might turn out, sent their valuables to statia for safe keeping. the little island became a treasure-house. at times more than a hundred merchant vessels could be seen swinging to their anchors in the roadstead. a mushroom town appeared as by magic. warehouses rose by scores. the beach was hidden by piles of boxes, bags and bales for which no storeroom could be found. merchants came from all ports, especially the jews and levantines, who, since the beginning of time, have been the trade-rovers of the sea. neither by day nor by night did the babel of commerce cease. unlike other west indian towns, where such a condition led to gaiety and pleasure, fort oranje retained its dutch character. it was a hysteria, but a hysteria of buying and selling alone. then, one fine day, february , , rodney came down with a british fleet and captured fort oranje and all that it contained. there were political complications involved, but rodney bothered little about that. fort oranje was a menace to british power. rodney took it without remorse, appropriated the more than $ , , worth of goods lying on the beach and the warehouses, and the merchantmen, which, on that day, were lying in the bay. jews and levantines were stripped to the skin and sent packing. the dutch surrendered and took their medicine phlegmatically. the french, as open enemies, were allowed to depart with courtesy. then came the great auction. without reserve, without remorse, over $ , , worth of goods were put up for what they would fetch. boxes, crates, bales and bags melted away like snow before the sun. warehouses bursting with goods became but empty shells. traders' booths were abandoned, one by one. just for a few months the commercial debauch lasted, then rodney sailed away. since then, the selling on the beach of statia has been confined to a little sugar and a few yams. for the united states, the little fort above fort oranje has a historic memory. from the old cannon, still in position on that fort, was fired the first foreign salute to the stars and stripes, the first salute which recognized the united states as a sovereign nation. it was on the th of november, , that the brig _andrea doria_, fourteen guns, third of the infant american navy of five vessels, under the command of josiah robinson, sailed into the open roadstead of st. eustatius, and dropped anchor almost under the guns of fort oranje. "she could have chosen no more fitting name," writes fenger, "than that of the famous townsman of columbus.... the _andrea doria_ may have attracted but little attention as she appeared in the offing ... but, with the quick eyes of seafarers, the guests of howard's tavern had probably left their rum for a moment to have their first glimpse of a strange flag which they all knew must be that of the new republic. "abraham ravené, commandant of the fort, lowered the red-white-and-blue flag of holland in recognition of the american ship. in return, the _andrea doria_ fired a salute. "this put the commandant in a quandary. anchored not far from the _andrea doria_ was a british ship. the enmity of the british for holland, and especially against statia, was no secret. "in order to shift the responsibility, ravené went to consult de graeff, the governor. de graeff had already seen the _andrea doria_, for ravené met him in the streets of the upper town. a clever lawyer and a keen business man, the governor had already made up his mind when ravené spoke. "'two guns less than the national salute,'" was the order. "and, so, the united states was for the first time recognized as a nation by this salute of eleven guns. "for this act, de graeff was subsequently recalled to holland, but he was reinstated as governor of statia, and held that position when the island was taken by rodney in . the dutch made no apology to england." saba, which lies close to statia, depends for its interest on its location. it is but an old volcanic crater, sticking up out of the sea, in the interior of which a town has been built. as a writer describes it, "if the citizens of this town--which is most fitly called bottom--wish to look at the sea, they must climb to the rim of the crater, as flies would crawl to the edge of a tea-cup, and look over. they will see the ocean directly below them at the foot of a precipice some , feet high. to go down to the sea it is necessary to take a path with a slope like the roof of a house, and to descend the ladder, an appalling stair on the side of a cliff marked at the steepest part by steps cut out of the face of the rock." this strange town of bottom is built with a heavy wall all round it, to save it from the torrents which stream down the inside slopes of the crater during a rain. its population is mainly white, flaxen-haired descendants of the dutch. more amazing than all, most of the inhabitants are shipbuilders, but the ships, when built, have to be let down by ropes over the side of the cliff. these fishing smacks are not only built in a crater, but on an island which has neither beach, harbor, landing stage nor safe anchoring ground, where no timber is produced, where no iron is to be found, and where cordage is not made. the island has no more facilities for the shipbuilding trade than a lighthouse on a rock in the middle of the sea. [illustration: above the hoarse shouts of ruffians and jack-tars, rose teach's murderous war cry.] passing saba, the steamer went on to her next port of call, st. thomas. here was seen the influence of another european power. barbados and trinidad are english; martinique, french; statia and saba, dutch; but st. thomas is danish. it is the chief of the virgin islands, and rejoices in a saintlier name than many of its companions which are known as "rum island," "dead man's chest," "drowned island," "money rock," "cutlass isle" and so forth, the naming of which shows buccaneer authorship. even in the town of charlotte amalia, the capital of st. thomas, the stamp of the pirate is strong, for two of the hills above the city are marked by the ruins of old stone buildings, one of which is called "bluebeard's castle," and "blackbeard's castle," the other. it was once, no doubt, one of the many ports of call of that nero of pirates, blackbeard edward teach. cecil's description of the buccaneers had greatly stimulated stuart's interest in pirate stories, and, rightly thinking that he could sell a story to his paper by new photographs of "blackbeard's castle" and by a retelling of the last fight of that savage scoundrel, he set himself to find out what was known of this career of this "chiefest and most unlovely of all the pyrates" as he is called in a volume written by one of his contemporaries. in appearance he was as fierce and repulsive as in character. he was of large size, powerfully built, hairy, with a mane-like beard which, black as his heart, grew up to his very eyes. this beard he twisted into four long tails, tied with ribbons, two of which he tucked behind his outstanding ears, and two over his shoulders. his hair was like a mat and grew low over his forehead. in fact, little of the skin of his face was visible, his fierce eyes glaring from a visage like that of a baboon. in fighting, it was his custom to stick lighted fuses under his hat, the glare of which, reflected in his jet-like eyes, greatly increased the ferocity of his appearance. teach was an execrable rascal, who ruled his ship by terror. the worst of his crew admitted him master of horror as well as of men. it was his custom ever and anon to shoot a member of his crew, whenever the fancy pleased him, in order that they should remember that he was captain. blackbeard is famous in the annals of piracy for his idea of a pleasant entertainment. one afternoon, when his ship was lying becalmed, the pirates found the time pass heavily. they had polished their weapons till they shone like silver. they had gambled until one-half of the company was swollen with plunder and the other half, penniless and savage. they had fought until there was nothing left to fight about, and it was too hot to sleep. at this, teach, hatless and shoeless, and, says his biographer, "a little flushed with drink"--as a man might be who spent most of his waking hours swigging pure rum--stumbled up on deck and made a proposal to his bored companions. "i'm a better man than any o' you alive, an' i'll be a better man when we all go below. here's for proving it!" at which he routed up half a dozen of the most hardened of the crew, kicked them down into the hold, joined them himself and closed the hatches. there in the close, hot hold, smelling of a thousand odors, they set fire to "several pots full of brimstone and other inflammable matters" and did their best to reproduce what they thought to be the atmosphere of the pit. one by one, the rest gave in and burst for the comparatively free air of the deck, but teach's ugly head was the last to come up the hatch, and his pride thereon was inordinate. it was the surest road to the captain's good favors to remind him of his prowess in that stench-hole on a tropic afternoon. teach's death was worthy of his life. lieutenant maynard of h. m. s. _pearl_ learned that teach was resting in a quiet cove near okracoke inlet, not far from hatteras, n. c. he followed the pirate in a small sloop. teach ran his craft ashore. maynard was determined to get alongside the pirate, so with desperate haste he began to throw his ballast overboard. more than that, he staved in every water cask, until, feeling that he had enough freeboard, he slipped his anchor, set his mainsail and jib, and bore down upon the stranded sea robber. as he came on, teach, with fuses glowing under his hat, hailed him, and, standing on the taffrail, defied him and drank to his bloody end in a goblet of rum.... teach, surrounded by his sullen and villainous gang, shrieked out the chorus of a sea song as the sloop drew near and, when she had drifted close enough, he pelted her deck with grenades. at this moment, the two vessels touched, whereupon teach and his crew, with hideous yells, and a great gleam of cutlass blades, leapt upon the sloop's deck. through the smoke cloud the awful figure of the pirate emerged, making for maynard. at the same time, the men hidden in the sloop scrambled up from below, and the riot of the fight began. as teach and maynard met, they both fired at each other, point blank. the lieutenant dodged, but the robber was hit in the face, and the blood was soon dripping from his beard, the ends of which were, as usual, tucked up over his ears. there was no time to fumble with pistols now. so they fought with cutlasses. teach, spitting the blood from his mouth, swore that he would hack maynard's soul from his body, but his opponent was too fine an adept with the sword to be easily disposed of. it was a fearful duel, a trial of the robber's immense strength against the officer's deftness. they chased each other about the deck, stumbling across dead bodies, knocking down snarling men, who, clutched together, were fighting with knives. ever through the mirk could be seen the pirate's grinning teeth and his evil eyes lighted by the burning and smoking fuses on either side of them, ever above the groans of the wounded and the hoarse shouts of ruffians and jack tars, rose teach's murderous war cry. at last, maynard, defending himself from a terrific blow, had his sword blade broken off at the hilt. now was the pirate's chance. he aimed a slash at maynard. the lieutenant put up the remnant of his sword and teach's blow hacked off his fingers. had the fight been left to the duel between the two, maynard had not a second to live. but, just as the pirate's blow fell, one of the navy men brought his cutlass down upon the back of the pirate's neck, half severing it. teach, too enraged to realize it was his death blow, turned on the man and cut him to the deck. the current of the fight changed. from all sides the jack tars, who dared not close with the pirate chief, fired pistols at him. the decks were slippery with blood. still fighting, teach kicked off his shoes, to get a better hold of the planks. his back was to the bulwarks. six men were attacking him at once. panting horribly, and roaring curses still, teach, with his dripping cutlass, kept them all at bay. he had received twenty-five wounds, five of which were from bullets. his whole body was red. the half-severed head could not be held straight, but some incredible will power enabled him to twist his chin upwards, so that, to the last, his eyes glared with the fierce joy of battle, and the lips, already stiffening, smiled defiantly. the six men drew back, aghast that a creature so wounded could still live and move, but teach drew a pistol and was cocking it, when his eyelids closed slowly, as though he were going to sleep, and he fell back on the railing, dead. so, in fitting manner, perished the last of the great pirates of the spanish main. chapter xiii the hungry shark "hyar, sah! please don' you go t'rowin' nuffin to de sharks, not 'roun' dese waters, anyhow." "why?" asked stuart in return, smiling at the grave face of the negro steward on board the steamer taking him from porto rico to jamaica. his stay at porto rico had been brief, for he found a telegram awaiting him from fergus, bidding him hurry at once to kingston. "no, sah," repeated the negro, "dar witch-sharks in dese waters, debbil-sharks, too. folks do say dem ol' buccaneers, when dey died, was so bad dat eben de bad place couldn't take 'em. now, dey's sharks, a-swimmin' to an' fro, an' lookin' for gol', like dem yar pirates used ter do." "oh, come, sam, you don't believe that!" protested the boy. "what could a shark do with gold, if he had it?" "sho's you livin', sah," came the response, "i done see two gol' rings an' a purse taken out'n the inside of a shark. an' you know how, right in dese hyar waters, a shark swallowed some papers, an' it was the findin' o' dose papers what stopped a lot o' trouble between great britain an' the united states, yes, sah!" the gift of silver crossing a palm has other powers besides that of inspiring a fortune-teller. it can inspire a story-teller, as well. stuart, scenting a story which he could send to the paper from kingston, put half-a-crown where he thought it would do most good, namely, in the steward's palm and heard the strange (and absolutely true and authentic) story of the shark's papers. "yes, sah," he began, "i know jes' how that was, 'cause my gran'pap, he was a porter in de jamaica institute, an' when i was a small shaver i used to go wid him in the mornin's when he was sweepin' up, and i used to help him dust de cases. yes, sah. bime by, when i got big enough to read, i got a lot o' my eddication from dose cases, yes, sah! "this hyar story begins dis way. on july , --i remember de dates persackly--a brig, called de _nancy_, lef' baltimore for curacao. her owners were germans, but 'merican citizens, yes, sah. her cargo was s'posed to be dry goods, provisions an' lumber, but dere was a good deal more aboard her, guns, powder an' what they call contraband, ef you know jes' what that is. i don't rightly." "i do," agreed stuart. "go ahead." "well, sah, dis hyar brig _nancy_, havin' stopped at port-au-prince, started on down de coast, when, strikin' a heavy blow, she los' her maintopmast. she was makin' for a little island, not far 'way, to make some repairs, when she was captured by h.m.s. _sparrow_, a cutter belongin' to h.m.s. _abergavenny_, de british flagship stationed at port royal. de _sparrow_ was commanded by lieutenant hugh wylie, and dis hyar wylie sent her in with anoder prize, a spanish one, to port royal. so, naterally, wylie brings a suit for salvage against de _nancy_, bein' an enemy vessel." "but where does the shark come in?" queried stuart, growing impatient. "jes' you wait a minute, sah!" the negro responded, "i bring um in de shark pretty quick. de owners of de _nancy_, dey come to court an' show papers that de _nancy_ never was no 'merican ship at all, an' dat lieutenant wylie, he make one great big mistake in capturin' dis hyar brig. "but, what you t'ink, sah? right at dat moment, up steps in de court-room, lieutenant fitton, of h.m.s. _ferret_, another cutter belongin' to the _abergavenny_ an' hands the judge some papers. "'your honor,' he says, 'these are the true papers of the brig _nancy_. those you have before you are false.' "'where did you find these papers?' ask de judge. "'in the belly of a shark, my lord,' answers lieutenant fitton, clear an' loud. "for de sake, sah, dem germans must ha' turn green! in de belly ob a shark, yah, ha-ha!" and the steward roared in white-toothed laughter. "but how were they found there?" came the boy's next question. "yes, sah, i was jes' comin' to that. dis hyar fitton, wid one cutter, was a-cruisin' together wid wylie, in de other cutter, when wylie broke away to take de _nancy_. "bein' nigh breakfast time, fitton signals to wylie to come to breakfast. wylie, he right busy wid _nancy_ an' can't come right away. fitton, fishin' while he waitin' for wylie, catch a small shark. dey cut him open, jes' to see what he got inside, an' dar, right smack in de belly, dey see a bundle o' papers. "'hi!' says fitton, 'dat somet'ing important!' and he keep de papers an' tow de shark to port royal." "i suppose," said stuart, "the captain of the _nancy_ must have thrown the papers overboard. but why should the shark swallow them? i know sharks will turn over and make ready to swallow most things, but they don't take them in, as a rule, unless they're eatable." "yes, sah, quite right, sah, but dar was a reason. de papers, sah, had been hidden in a pork barrel on board de _nancy_, an' de shark must ha' t'ought dey smelt good. when fitton showed dese hyar papers in court, de experts what were called in on de case said dat dere was grease on 'em what wouldn't come from no shark's stomach. no, sah. "dey figured, right den an' dar, dat de grease must ha' been on de papers, fust. so dey started lookin' on board de _nancy_ an', for de sake, dey found, right in a pork barrel, a lot more papers, all written in german an' showin' a reg'lar plot for privateerin' against the united states. "dose papers, sah, dey're right thar in de institute in jamaica, wid a letter from de official, who was in charge ob de case, ober a hundred years ago. in de united service museum, in london, is de head of de shark what swallowed de papers. i reckon, sah, dat was de fust time dat a shark ever was a witness in a court!" and, with a loud laugh, the steward went to respond to the call of another of the passengers. strange as was the story of the shark swallowing the papers and being forced to give them up again, still stranger was the story that stuart heard from one of the passengers. this tale, equally authentic, was of an occurrence that happened even earlier, in that famous town of port royal, which, in the long ago days, was the english buccaneer center, even as tortugas was the center of the french sea-rovers. this was the story of lewis galdy, a merchant of port royal, french-born and a man of substance, who went through one of the most extraordinary experiences that has ever happened to a human being. he was walking down the narrow street of that buccaneer town, on june , , when the whole city and countryside was shaken by a terrific earthquake shock. the earth opened under the merchant's feet and he dropped into the abyss. he lost consciousness, yet, in a semi-comatose state, felt a second great wrenching of the earth, which heaved him upwards. water roared about his ears, and he was at the point of drowning, when, suddenly, he found himself swimming in the sea, half-a-mile from land. as the place where he had been walking was fully three hundred yards inland, he had been carried in the bowels of the earth three-quarters of a mile before being thrown forth. a boat picked him up, and he lived for forty-seven years after his extraordinary escape. jamaica, indeed, has been the prey of earthquakes, the most serious of which wrecked the city of kingston, in . the shocks lasted ten seconds, and the town of , inhabitants was a ruin. the death list reached nearly a thousand. from this shock, however, as stuart found, the city has recovered bravely, largely due to the lighter system of building common to british islands, and all places which have an american impress, while in french, dutch and danish islands, buildings are more solidly constructed. frame houses, however, are less damaged by earthquake than are stone structures. there was, however, little opportunity for stuart to make tours in jamaica or to work out any articles for his "color question" series. a registered letter from the paper awaited the boy in kingston, the reading of which he concluded with a long, low whistle. that night, without attracting attention, stuart left the city on foot, taking neither tramway nor railroad, and made a long night march. the roads were steep, but the cool air compensated for that difficulty, and having spent a long time on board ship the boy was glad to stretch his legs. on the further side of spanish town he saw what he sought, a rickety automobile under a lean-to-shed. he hurried to the negro owner, who was lolling on the verandah. "i want to go to buff bay," he said. "how soon can you get me there?" "de road ain' none too good, sah," the jamaican answered, "your bes' way is to take de train f'm spanish town. dat'll land you right in buff bay." "i don't want to," answered stuart, making up the first excuse that came to mind, "i get train-sick. can't your car make it?" the boy knew that there is nothing in the world that so much touches a man's pride as to have his car slighted, no matter whether it be the craziest kettle on wheels or a powerful racer. "make it? yes, sah!" the exclamation was emphatic. "i can have you in thar by noon." business arrangements were rapidly concluded, and in a few minutes they started out, stuart having borrowed an old straw hat from the driver, in order, as he said, that he could take a good sleep under it, which indeed, he did. but his main reason was disguise. the negro looked back at his passenger once or twice, and muttered, "train-sick? huh! looks more like ter me he's in pickle wid de police! wonder if i didn't ought to say somet'ing?" then a remembrance of some of his own earlier days came to him, and he chuckled. "fo' de sake!" he said. "i wouldn' want to tell all i ever did!" and he drove on through linfield, without summoning the guardians of the law. stuart, unconscious how near he had been to an unpleasant delay, slept on. questioning would have been awkward, search would have been worse, for, in the pocket of his jacket, was fergus's letter he had received in kingston, which closed with the words, "get to the mole st. nicholas with utmost speed! spare no expense, but go secretly!" that this bore some new development in the great plot, there was no doubting, and the letter had told him to be sure to leave kingston without letting cecil catch a glimpse of him. that meant that cecil was still in kingston. in that case, what could the other conspirators be doing without him? towards noon, a whiff of salt air wakened stuart. he stirred, rubbed his eyes and looked round. "the north shore, eh!" he exclaimed on seeing the sea. "yes, sah! annotta bay, sah!" "do you know anyone around these parts?" "fo' de sake, yes, sah! i was born in dese parts. i jes' went to spanish town a few years ago, when my wife's folks died." "do you know anyone who has a motor boat?" "you want to buy one?" "not unless i have to. do you happen to know of any?" "well, sah," said the negro cautiously, "thar's a preacher here what has one, but--but--he's a mighty careful man is brother fliss, an'----" stuart, refreshed from his sleep, grasped the hitch at once. "you think i'm in trouble and running from the police, eh? not a bit of it! here, run up to this preacher's. i'll convince him, in a minute." a little further on, the machine turned to the left, and just as it turned off, a racing car flashed by. something about one of the figures was familiar. "whose car was that?" the driver turned and stared at the cloud of dust. "i didn't rightly see, it might ha' been----" he stopped. "i'll tell you whar you can get a boat, sah!" he suggested. "mr. cecil, he keeps one down at his place a bit down de road." "cecil!" stuart had to control himself to keep from shouting the name. "has he a place on this coast?" "yes, sah; fine place, sah, pretty place. awful nice man, mr. cecil. he'll lend you de boat, for nuffin', likely. brother fliss, good man, you un'erstand, but he stick close to de money." "let's go there, just the same," said stuart, "i don't want to be under obligations. i'd rather pay my way." the negro shrugged his shoulders and, in a few minutes, the car stopped at the preacher's house. as the driver had suggested, brother fliss "stick close to de money" and his charge was high. he was an intensely loyal british subject, and an even more loyal jamaican, and when stuart showed his card from the paper and at the same suggested that he needed this help in order to trace up a plot against jamaica, the preacher was so willing that he would almost--but not quite--have lent the boat free. being afraid that the automobile driver might talk, if he returned to spanish town, and thus overset all the secrecy that stuart flattered himself he had so far maintained, the boy suggested that the negro come along in the boat. this suggestion was at once accepted, for the mystery of the affair had greatly excited the jamaican's curiosity. the preacher, himself, received the suggestion with approval. usually--for the craft, though, sturdy, was a small one--he was his own steersman and engineer. now, he could enjoy the luxury of a crew, and the driver, who was a fairly good mechanic, was quite competent to handle the small two-cylinder engine. so far as the boy was concerned, he had another reason. the quest might be dangerous. undoubtedly cesar leborge and manuel polliovo would be there. equally certainly, guy cecil, who had protected him before, would not. a companion would be of aid in a pinch. and it was all so dark, so mysterious, so incomprehensible! he had learned nothing new about the plot. he had no documents with which to confront the conspirators. he had no protection against these two men, one of whom, he knew, had vowed to kill him. the motor boat glided out on the waters north of jamaica, on her way to that grim passage-way between cuba and haiti, that key to the caribbean, which is guarded by the mole st. nicholas. yet, withal, stuart had one protector. behind him stood the power of a new york newspaper, and, with that, he felt he had the power of the united states. there is no flinching, no desertion in the great army of news-gatherers. there should be none in him. with no support but that, with nothing to guide him but his faith in the paper that sent him forth, stuart set his face to the shore of that semi-savage land, on the beach of which he expected to find his foes awaiting him. chapter xiv trapped! all that night the little motor boat chugged on. she was small for so long a sea-passage, but the preacher knew her ways well. many a journey had he taken to the caymans and other jamaican possessions in the interests of his faith. in the night-watches, stuart grew to have a strong respect for him, for the preacher was one in whom the missionary spirit burned strongly, and he was as sincere as he was simple. each of the three on board took turns to sleep, leaving two to manage the boat. stuart got a double dose of sleep, for the preacher, seeing that the boy was tired, ran the craft alone during the second part of his watch. dawn found them in the windward passage, with the mole of st. nicholas on the starboard bow. they slowed down for a wash and a bite of breakfast, and then the preacher, with a manner which showed it to be habitual, offered a morning prayer. the mole st. nicholas, at its southern end, has some small settlements, but stuart felt sure that it could not be here that he was to land. they cruised along the shore a while, and, on an isolated point, saw an old half-ruined jetty, with four figures standing there. as the boat drew nearer, stuart recognized them as manuel polliovo, cesar leborge and two cacos guerillas, armed with rifles and machetes. "are you afraid to follow me?" queried stuart to the negro who had driven the automobile. "'fraid of dem haiti niggers? no, sah. i'm a jamaican!" this pride of race among certain negroes--not always rightly valued among the whites--had struck stuart before. indeed, he had done a special article on the subject during the voyage on the steamer. reaching the wharf, stuart sprang ashore. the jamaican at once sought to follow him, but the two cacos tribesmen stepped forward with uplifted machetes. the odds were too great and stuart's ally fell back. "it is very kind of you to come and pay us a visit!" mocked manuel, as stuart stepped upon the wharf. "we prefer, however, to have you alone. we do not know your guests." "you know me, then?" "i knew the ragged horse-boy to be stuart garfield, all the way on the road to millot and the citadel," the cuban purred. "i cannot congratulate you on your cleverness. the disguise was very poor." stuart thrust forward his chin aggressively, but no retort came to mind. "i missed you, on the return journey," manuel continued. "yes," the boy answered. "i came down another way." "perhaps you borrowed a pair of wings from the englishman?" stuart made no reply. but this ironic fencing was not to leborge's taste. he broke in, abruptly, "you spy on us once, yes! you spy on us again, yes! you spy no more, no!" he made a rough gesture, at which one of the cacos dashed upon the boy, pinned his arms to his sides and harshly, but deftly, tied him securely with a rope. this done, the haitian took the boy's small revolver from his pocket and cast it contemptuously on the ground. "the white carries a pistol, yes! but he does not even know how to shoot it!" the phrase irritated stuart, but he had sense enough to keep still. as a matter of fact, he was a fairly good shot, but, with four to one against him, any attempt at violence would be useless. besides, stuart had not lost heart. he had landed, in the very teeth of his foes, confident that fergus would never have directed him to go to the mole st. nicholas, unless the editor had cause. the boy's only cue was to await developments. at this juncture, the jamaican preacher, with a good deal of courage, as well as dignity, rose in the boat. he thrust aside, as unimportant, the machete of the caco who threatened him, and the assumption of authority took the guerilla aback. quietly, and with perfect coolness, he walked up to the haitian general. a little to stuart's surprise, he spoke the haitian dialect perfectly. "you're goin' to untie de ropes 'round dat boy, yes!" he declared, "an' if you're wise, you do it quick. de good book say--'dose who slay by de sword, shall be slain by de sword, demselbes,' yes! i tell you, dose dat ties oders up, is goin' to be tied up demselbes, yes!" "what are you doin' here?" demanded leborge, with an oath. "i's a minister ob de gospel," said the preacher, standing his ground without a quaver, in face of the threatening aspect of the giant haitian, "an' i tell you"--he pointed a finger accusingly--"dat, for ebery oath you make hyar in de face ob de sun, you is goin' to pay, an' pay heabily, before dat sun go down! "you's a big nigger," the preacher went on, his voice taking the high drone of prophetic utterance, "an' you's all cobered wit' gol' lace. de good book say--'hab no respec' for dem dat wears fine apparel.' no! 'deir garments shall be mof-eaten, deir gol' an' silver shall be cankered, an' de worm'--hear, you nigger!--'de worm, shall hab 'em'!" leborge, superstitious like all the haitian negroes, cowered before the preacher who advanced on him with shaking finger. but manuel was of another stripe. he strode forward, put a lean but sinewy hand on the preacher's shoulder and twisted him round, with a gesture as though he would hurl him into the water, when there came a sharp, "spat!" the cuban's hat leaped from his head and fluttered slowly to the ground, a bullet-hole through the crown. manuel stared at it, his jaw dropping. "white man----" the preacher began. the cuban took no heed. the shot, he figured, could have come from no one but the negro in the boat, and he wheeled on him, flashing his revolver. as he turned to the sea, however, he saw a motor boat coming at terrific speed into the harbor. he took one glance at it. "we've got to get rid of the boy before he comes!" he cried. leborge, with a wide grin, gave a nod of approval, and manuel's gun came slowly to the shoulder, for cat-like, he wanted to torture the boy before he fired. quicker than his grave manner would have seemed to forecast, the preacher stepped fairly between the cuban and his victim. "de good book say----" he began, but manuel gave him a push. there was a slight struggle and a flash. the preacher fell. manuel turned on stuart, who had tried to catch the falling man, forgetting for the instant that his hands were tied. he stumbled, and the pistol centered on his heart. came another, "spat!" a shrill scream rang out. manuel's gun fell to the ground, suddenly reddened with blood. the cuban's hand had been shot through. clumsily kneeling, stuart put his ear to the wounded man's heart. it was beating strongly. the bullet seemed to have struck the collar bone and glanced off, stunning the nerves, but not doing serious injury. for a moment, the four men stood dazed. whence came these bullets that made no sound? could the englishman be shooting? they stared out to sea. the "chug-chug" of the motor boat was deafening, now. it stopped, suddenly, and, standing in the bow, the figure of cecil could be plainly seen. he held no gun in his hand, however. never was the englishman's quiet power more strongly shown than in the fact that, in this tense moment, the conspirators waited till he landed. leborge shuffled his feet uneasily. manuel, his face twisted with pain, and holding his wounded arm, glared at his fellow-conspirator, undauntedly. "my friend," said cecil to him, calmly, "i have many times instructed you that nothing is to be done until i give the word." the cuban cursed, but made no other answer. "as for you," the englishman continued, turning to leborge, "i have told you before that the time to quarrel about the sharing of the spoils was after the spoils were won. why have you posted men to murder manuel and me, in the granadilla wood, between here and cap haitien?" the giant would have liked to lie, but cecil's determined gaze was full on him, and he flinched beneath it, as a wild beast flinches before its tamer. "if you had waited for me," the calm voice went on, "i might have helped you to escape, but now----" he raised his hat and passed his hand over his hair, as though the sun had given him a headache. at the same moment, as though this gesture had been a signal, from the low bushes a hundred yards away burst a squad of a dozen men, rifles at the "ready," in the uniform of american marines. manuel and leborge cast wild glances around, seeking some place to flee, but there was none. they were cut off. "quick, cecil!" they cried, together. and leborge added, "your boat! she is fast!" "not as fast as a rifle bullet," was the quiet answer. at the double the marines came over the scrubby ground, and, running beside the officer in command was a figure that stuart recognized--his father! the officer of the marines came up. "seize them!" he said briefly. the boys in blue disarmed and bound the four, one of the marines freeing stuart's arms the while. the second he was free, stuart sprang forward and grasped his father's hand with a squeeze that made the older man wince. "father!" he cried. "it's really you!" the american official clapped the boy on the shoulder with praise and a look of pride. "reckon that high-powered air rifle came in handy, eh?" he answered. "was it you, father, who did the shooting?" "no, not me. wish i could shoot like that! we brought along the crack sharp-shooter of the camp." one of the marines looked up and grinned. "this chap," the official continued, "could hit the hind leg of a fly that's scratching himself on a post fifty yards away!" then, to stuart's enormous surprise, he turned to the prisoners with an air of authority. "in the name of the united states," he said, "you are arrested. you, cesar leborge, for having plotted against american authority in haiti, while holding rank in the haitian army; also for having accepted a bribe from other haitian officials for betraying your fellow-conspirator; also for having given money and issued orders to a band of cacos to post themselves in ambush with the purpose and intent of murdering haitian and american citizens. "you, manuel polliovo," he continued, turning to the second prisoner, "are arrested on a cuban warrant for the murder of one gonzales elivo, a guard at the prison from which you escaped two years ago; also upon a charge of assault and attempted murder against this negro minister, for which there are several witnesses present; also on a charge of attempted murder of stuart garfield, son of an american citizen; also on a haitian warrant for conspiring against the peace of the republic." stuart stood with wide-open eyes, watching the dénouement. he stepped back, and waited to see what would be said to cecil, who, so far, had remained motionless. the marines, at a word from their officer, turned to go, taking the prisoners with them. "and cecil, father?" the boy asked, in a low voice. "mr. guy cecil, my son," replied the american official, "is my very good friend, as well as yours, and the very good friend of the united states. no man knows more of the inner workings of affairs in the west indies, and he has the confidence of his government. "it was through him that i was first advised of this plot to seize the northern peninsula of haiti, from the citadel of la ferrière to the mole st. nicholas, to make of this stretch a small republic as was done at panama, and to sell the mole st. nicholas, as a naval base, to a certain european power which is seeking to regain its lost prestige. "it was a pretty plot, and your investigations, my boy, will help to bring the criminals to judgment. "also, i think, mr. cecil will release you from your promise not to tell the secret, and you can write your story to the press. it will be a scoop! only----" he smiled--"don't say too much about the crimes of the arch-conspirator, guy cecil!" "then he's not a conspirator, at all!" cried stuart, half-sorry and half-glad. "rather, an ally," his father answered, "an ally with me, just as his government is in alliance with our government, an alliance among the english-speaking peoples to keep the peace of the world." the end [transcriber's note: several typographical errors in the original edition have been corrected. the following sentences are as they originally appeared, with corrections noted in brackets.] chapter i "but, it is you, yes!" he cried, using the haitian idom [idiom] with its perpetual recurrence of "yes" and "no," and went on, "and where is monsieur your father?" chapter ii to the cafê [café] de l'opéra. go down the street and keep a few steps in front." manuel turned into the cafê [café] de l'opéra, a tumble-down frame shack with a corrugated iron roof, to order a cooling drink and to puzzle out this utterly baffling mystery. the cacos may be described as haitian patriots or revolutionists, devotees of serpent and voodoo worship, loosely organized into a secret guerille [guerilla] army. chapter v ["]a privateer on the caribbean and the spanish main, in those days, was a man who had sufficient money or sufficient reputation to secure a ship and a crew with which to wage war against the enemies of his country. chapter vi ["]what happens? i can tell you what happens in this province of oriente. chapter vii it had not occured [occurred] to him that the consular official would not be as excited as himself. he spluttered exclamations. chapter viii the greater part of the island seemed, to the boy, uttterly [utterly] unlike any place he had seen in the tropics. chapter ix spech [speech] again became impossible. chapter x there are many more little houses and thatched huts tucked into corner [corners] of the ruins than appear at first sight, and a hotel has been built for the tourists who visit the strange spot. [illustration: cover art] round the world library no. where duty called or in honor bound by victor st. clair author of "on his merit," "zip, the acrobat," "cast away in the jungle," etc. street & smith corporation publishers - seventh avenue, new york copyright, by street & smith where duty called all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the scandinavian. printed in the u. s. a. contents chapter i. "a grand opportunity." ii. a suspicious craft. iii. the young exile. iv. put in irons. v. escape from the _libertador_. vi. a swim for life. vii. taken ashore. viii. jaguar claws. ix. the mystery of the photograph. x. "we have been betrayed!" xi. a perilous flight. xii. a lonely ride. xiii. in the enemy's country. xiv. indian warfare. xv. a friendly voice. xvi. colonel marchand. xvii. a cunning ruse. xviii. ronie receives a commission. xix. the scout in the jungle. xx. adventures and surprises. xxi. "the mountain lion." xxii. a fight with the guerillas. xxiii. the news at la guayra. xxiv. interview with general castro. xxv. the spy of caracas. xxvi. "it is manuel marlin!" xxvii. good news. xxviii. victory and peace. where duty called. chapter i. "a grand opportunity." "hurrah, boys! here is a letter from home. at least, it is from the homeland, as it is postmarked new york. who can be writing us from that city?" and the youthful speaker, in his exuberance of feeling, waved the missive over his head, while he began to dance a lively step. "i know of no better way to find out than to open it, harrie, or let one of us do it for you; you seem suddenly to have lost your faculty for doing anything rational yourself. hand it to jack if you do not want to trust me with it." "your very words, to say nothing of your impatient gestures, ronie, show that you are not one whit less excited than i am over receiving some news from the great world outside of this lost corner," replied the first speaker, beginning to tear open the end of the bulky envelope he held in his hand. "there must be a lot of news, judging by the size of the package," said the second, approaching so he could look over the shoulder of his companion while he tore open the covering. "go slow, lads," said a third person, who had been sitting slightly apart from the others, but who moved near to the twain now. "it won't do to get unduly excited in this climate." the three were none other than our old friends of the jungles of luzon, ronie rand, harrie mannering and jack greenland, whose exploits in opening up one of the great forest tracts on that island were described in "cast away in the jungle," first of the round world series. they had not been long in manilla, the capital of the island, since completing that hazardous undertaking, when an incoming steamer brought them the letter which awakened such an interest, and which was to play such an important part in their future actions. as its bulk indicated, it was a lengthy epistle, and this length was more than doubled in reading matter by the fine chirography which covered its large pages. standing where he could not scan the mysterious pages, professor jack fell to watching the countenance of harrie mannering as he followed with his eye the closely written pages. as he read, his features began to change their expression from gayety to seriousness, and by the time he had finished a puzzled look had settled upon his sunburned but good-looking face, and his lips, forming themselves unconsciously into a pucker, gave vent to a prolonged whistle. then, as if to obtain a more comprehensive understanding of the message, he returned to the beginning, and was about to read it through again, when jack said: "look here, boy, you are taking an unfair advantage of a fellow. you must know that i am just as much interested in news from the homeland as you, so read it aloud this time. if it is good news, i want to enjoy it with you; if it is bad news, then i certainly ought to share it with you." "forgive me, or rather us, jack--for i am sure ronie has seen every word--but it is all so strange and unexpected that my head is not quite clear yet as to whether i have been reading or dreaming." "then it is all the more necessary that i should hear it, as it is possible my poor head may help unravel the skein. you remember the story of the great novelist, sir walter scott, who, upon recovering from a long illness, was given a book to read for amusement. but upon reading the book, he could get so little sense out of it that he feared he had lost his reason. in this perplexed state of mind he handed the work to another to read without giving his reason, while he waited anxiously for the result. she, after reading a few chapters, threw the book aside, declaring it was such senseless twaddle that she did not care to follow it any further, whereupon the great author breathed easier." "no offense was meant, jack, and i will try and make amends at once. in the first place, this is an invitation for us to start upon another undertaking somewhat similar to the one we have just completed." "what! return to the jungles of luzon?" "no; it is to south america this time--to venezuela. a party of men, some of whom are connected with the local government, are anxious to open up the interior of the country in quest of rubber trees. the writer, who is one of the company, and, i judge, an influential member, has recommended us as 'capable persons'--you needn't laugh, ronie, for those are his words--to survey and engineer for the party. if we conclude to go, he wants us to meet him at caracas as soon as possible. in the meantime, he will get everything in readiness to start as soon as we arrive. i am at a loss to know what to think of it. the writer, who is colonel rupert marchand, is very enthusiastic over the scheme, and he seems anxious that we should come. i never thought the colonel was one to get wild over anything that was not likely to prove successful." jack made no reply in words, but took the letter from the hand of his young friend, and began to hastily run over its contents, saying, by way of apology for his action: "you will pardon me, harrie, but it may not be best for us to read aloud or talk to any great extent here. there may be those about whose motives are not friendly." thinking this suggestion a wise one, harrie and ronie willingly followed their companion to a more retired place, where the three spent fully five minutes looking over the lengthy missive together before one of them spoke. then ronie said: "well, what do you think of it, jack?" "that it is a grand opportunity for two such adventure-loving fellows as you are to embrace. but i would not advise less daring and energetic youths to think of it for a moment." "so you think there is likely to be some dangerous experiences attached to the journey?" "it has all of that appearance, though you may come out of it without a scratch. colonel marchand, unless i have misjudged him, is just such a man as would throw all thought of hazard to the wind if the prize was worth striving for." "you do not believe he would lead any one into needless danger, jack?" "certainly not; he is too good a soldier for that, and you know he made an honorable record in our recent war with spain." "i judge, then, you think the people we should be likely to fall among might be a dangerous element," said ronie. "that is just what i meant. the inhabitants of the interior of the country where he would have you go are treacherous and dangerous, if they happen to take a dislike to you; and that they are more prone to dislike than to like has been my experience." "what about this rubber business?" said harrie. "colonel marchand speaks as if he wants us to take an interest in the company as part pay for our work. he seems very enthusiastic over that." "his excuse for having us take some shares is that we might possibly have more interest in the venture," said ronie. "that stipulation makes me think there may be some sort of a trap to inveigle us into a profitless adventure, though i do not think the colonel would do that." "you are as well able to judge of that as i am. in regard to the rubber part of the venture, to use a poor simile, that is very elastic. unless you have given the matter some consideration you will not, at first thought, realize the importance of that commodity, which must govern the possibilities of the article in the markets. i will acknowledge that i am very favorably impressed with the idea. rubber is fast becoming one of the most important commercial articles in existence. turn whichever way you will, do whatever you wish, and you will almost invariably find that rubber is the most necessary thing needed. "not only is it used in large quantities toward helping clothe men and creatures, but it is used in house furnishings, such as mattings for floors, stairs and platforms, on board of ships, as well as in houses, and in hundreds of other places. it is utilized largely in the manufacture of druggists' materials; in the manufacture of all kinds of instruments and machinery that require pliable bearings and supporters, printers' rollers, wheel tires, rings on preserve jars. erasers on lead pencils call for tons of the article. "then steam mills must have rubber belts, cars rubber bearings, and gas works call for miles of rubber hose, to say nothing of that used in gardens and on lawns. billiard tables alone call for nearly a third of a million dollars' worth of rubber every year, while over a million dollars are spent for the rubber used in baseball and football! typewriters call for a vast amount; so do the makers of rubber stamps, water bottles, trimmings for harness, and fittings for pipes of one kind and another. altogether, the rubber factories of the united states alone utilize sixty million pounds of rubber annually. you will not wonder now if i say that rubber ranks as third among the imports of the country, and that its handling is one of the most profitable callings of the day. if this is the electrical age, as it has been called, it is rubber that makes possible the many applications of electricity." "i had not thought it of such importance," remarked harrie, frankly. "where does it all come from?" "a very pertinent question," replied jack. "originally it came from india, hence the name of india rubber, which still clings to it, though the great bulk now, and that which is of the better quality, comes from other countries. foremost among these is south america. it is true a large amount comes from central america, the west part of africa, and the islands of the indian archipelago, but the best rubber comes from the great belt of lowlands bordering upon the amazon, the rio negro and the orinoco, the last named tract lying largely in southern venezuela. this country in many respects is the eldorado of south america." "then we shall not be going into a country without at least one source of wealth." "no; venezuela is wonderfully well favored by nature. capable of producing abundant supplies of first quality coffee, sugar cane, cocoa palm and cotton plant, it has its rich gold mines, its mines of asphalt, affording paving enough for the cities of the world; while last, but not least, are its rubber forests, which have only very recently been considered as a valuable and available resource. it is here american capital has entered the field of conquest." "do you think we had better go there, jack?" "that is a question you must answer yourselves. i know you will not act hastily, and, having acted, will not regret the step taken." "what about the climate, jack?" asked harrie. "i believe you have been there?" "yes, i have been there," replied the other, shaking his grizzled head slowly, "and it was likely at one stage of the scene that i should stay there forever. but i am not answering your question. the climate of south america, as a whole, is not very bad, though much of its territory lies within the torrid zone. this is largely due to local modifications. the burning heat of the plains of arabia is unknown in the western hemisphere. the hottest region of south america, as far as i know, is the steppes of caracas, the capital of venezuela; but even there the temperature does not reach a hundred degrees in the shade, while it rises to one hundred and twelve degrees in the sand deserts surrounding the red sea. in the basin of the amazon, owing to the protection of vast forests and the influence of prevailing easterly winds, offshoots of the trade winds, which follow the great river nearly to the andes, the climate is not very hot or unhealthy." "what do you say, ronie? is it go, or stay here until something else comes our way?" "i will suggest the way i would settle it. let each one take a slip of paper, and, without consulting the others, write upon it his answer. whatever two of us shall say to be our decision, to go or to remain here." his companions were nothing loath to agree to this, so paper and pencils were quickly obtained, and each one wrote his reply. upon comparing notes a moment later, it was found that all three had written the short but decisive word: "go!" chapter ii. a suspicious craft. "i tell you, boys, there is something wrong about this vessel." the speaker was jack greenland, and his companions were ronie and harrie, but the scene is now many leagues from the quiet corner where they took their vote to hazard a journey to the rubber forests of venezuela. instead of the quaint old buildings of manilla on the one hand, and the sullen old bay, filled with its odd-looking crafts, on the other, roll the blue waters of the caribbean sea, almost as placid as the southern sky that bends so benignly over their heads, while they stand by the taffrail of the rakish ship upon which they have only recently taken passage to the south american coast. to explain in detail this change of base would require too much space. a few words will suffice to describe the long journey by water and land necessary to make this stupendous change. in the first place, having decided unanimously to undertake the trip, they were exceedingly fortunate in finding that they could leave manilla within twenty-four hours by steamer for san francisco. this required some smart hustling, but our trio were used to this, and the next morning found them safely aboard ship, looking hopefully forward to a speedy and safe arrival in the city of the golden gate. in this they were not disappointed, while the run down the coast to panama was also made under favorable conditions. then the isthmus was crossed with some delay and vexation, when their adventures and misadventures began in earnest. at colon tidings of war in venezuela reached them. these being somewhat indefinite, and the republic in question being a land of revolutions and uprisings, but little attention was given these vague reports. they had barely left port, however, before the captain of the little coastwise vessel declared that they were likely to have trouble. the next day they were, indeed, fired upon by a strange craft, and instead of keeping on toward la guayra, the port of caracas, he put to sea. while bent upon this aimless quest, they were overtaken by a tropical storm, and were eventually driven upon one of the small isles forming the lower horn of that huge crescent of sea isles known as the windward islands. from this they managed to reach, after repairing their damages somewhat, martinique, where our three heroes were only too glad to part with such uncertain companions. there was a strange ship in this port, which immediately attracted them. learning that the captain, though he had taken out papers for colon, intended to stop at la guayra, they engaged passage. at the outset they had felt some distrust in doing this, while the commander showed equal hesitation in taking them. still, it was their only chance to get away, so they resolved to take their chances, with the determination to keep their eyes and ears open. thus they had frequently expressed the opinion among themselves that they had been justified in their suspicions, though this was the first outspoken belief in the fact. "i agree with you, jack," declared ronie. "what have you learned that is new, jack?" asked harrie. "enough to confirm what doubts i already had as to her character. captain willis does not intend to put in at la guayra, as he claimed he should to us." "perhaps he dares not," said ronie. "ay, lad, that's where you hit the bull's-eye. he dares not do it." "that means either that his intentions are not honest, or that the war in venezuela is more than a civil war," said harrie. "now you've hit the bull's-eye with a double shot. i do not believe he is honest," nodding in the direction of the commander, "and that this is an international war!" "whew!" exclaimed the young engineers in the same breath. while both had really about come to this conclusion, the proposition seemed more startling when expressed in so many words. "before we fully agree to this," continued professor jack, "let's compare notes. in the first place this vessel before undergoing some slight alterations came to martinique as a colombian vessel, officered and manned by englishmen. upon reaching this island she was immediately sold, and her english crew discharged. but her captain remained the same, while she still carried the english colors. the next day it was claimed she had been again sold, this time passing into the possession of followers of general matos, the leader of the venezuelan revolutionists. her english flag was now replaced by the colors of venezuela, and she was renamed from the _ban righ_ to the _libertador_. can the chameleon beat that in changing colors? it is my private opinion she is a cruiser in the employ of the insurgents, and that we are booked for lively times." "with small chance of reaching caracas for a long time, if at all," added ronie. "how came england to allow such a vessel to leave her port?" asked harrie. "she must have been deceived as to her real character. thinking she was a colombian ship, and being on peaceful terms with that republic, she had no business to stop her.[ ] hi! what have we here?" jack's abrupt question was called forth by the sudden appearance almost by his side of a tall, slender youth, whose tawny skin and dark features proclaimed that he belonged to the mixed blood of the south american people. he had risen from the midst of a coil of rope, and in such close proximity that it was evident he had overheard what had been said. the three americans realized their situation, though the opening speech of the young stranger reassured them. "señors speak very indiscreetly," he said, "of affairs which they must know bode them ill, in case their words reach the ears of others." "who are you?" demanded jack, who was the first to speak. he remembered having seen this youth among the men on board, but had not given him any particular notice, although he noticed that he presented an appearance that showed he did not belong to the class of common sailors, while dressed no better than the poorest. there was an air of superiority about him which they did not possess. "it is not always well for one to be too outspoken to strangers," he answered, glancing cautiously about as he said the words. "even coils of rope have ears," he added, significantly. "you overheard what we said?" queried jack, who continued to act as spokesman for the party. "_si, señor_. i could not help hearing some of it, though you did speak in a low tone. my ears are very keen, and not every one would have heard the little i did." "it is not well for one to repeat what one hears, sometimes," said jack, by way of reply. "i have a mind as well as ears, señors," replied the youth. "while i can see as well as i can hear, i can think for both eyes and ears. you are not satisfied with the appearance of the _libertador_?" "i judge you are pretty well informed as to our opinion," replied jack, more vexed than he was willing to show that they should have been caught off their guard. "listeners are not apt to hear any good of themselves, we are told." "had i been a spy," retorted the youth, with some animation, "i should have remained quietly in my concealment, and not shown my head at all, and most assuredly not when i was likely to hear that which was to prove the most important." "please explain, then, your motive in addressing us at all." "not here--not now," he answered. "when the southern cross appears in the sky, and the sharp-eyed, doubting englishman at the head sleeps, i will meet one of you here, and make plain many things you do not understand." "why not meet all of us?" demanded jack, suspiciously. "because one of you in conversation with me would create less suspicion than all of you would be likely to do. that is my only reason, señor." "by the horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please," exclaimed professor jack, "there is a bit of common sense in that. one of us will be here, if we find it convenient." "good, señor. now, as we seem to be attracting attention, it may be well for us to separate. i will be on hand at the appointed time." a moment later the unknown youth mingled with the motley crew, leaving our friends wondering what their meeting with him portended. "he seems honest," declared ronie. "he must be half spaniard, and the other is doubtless something worse, if that is possible," said jack, who confessed that he had no liking for the south american races. "shall we accept his proposition?" asked harrie. "i will confess i am curious to know what he has to tell." "i do not understand what this disturbance between the countries means," said ronie. "when foreign nations take a hand in the affair it would seem to show that something more serious than a civil revolt is likely to follow. there could not have been a suspicion of this outside preparation of war in the united states, or colonel marchand would have known of it. i do not see how this has gone on under the american eyes." "it is probably due to the fact that these republics of south america are almost continually at war. venezuela has had a stormy time of it from the very first. i think one of us had better listen to what this young venezuelan has to say. he is evidently not in sympathy with the commander of this vessel." "who is working in the interest of matos, the leader of the revolutionists?" "as president castro is at the head of the government, and the target for the fire of the whole world at this time." it was finally decided that harrie should meet the stranger at the appointed time, while ronie and jack were to remain nearby to lend their assistance in case the youth showed any signs of treachery. having come to this decision, the three waited, as may be imagined, with considerable anxiety for the hour to come. [ ] jack hit nearer the truth than he realized at the time. the _ban righ_ had, in fact, awakened the suspicions of the english authorities, and the attention of the custom officers was directed to her by the placing of a searchlight on her foremast. an examination disclosed the fact that parts of guns and gun-mountings had been stowed away below deck, where passages had been cut to allow the crew to move about with facility. she was released and permitted to leave port because the colombian official in london claimed that she was being fitted out for the service of his government. sailing ostensibly for colon, she called at antwerp, where she was loaded with tons of mausers and tons of ammunition, besides field guns, billed as "hardware, musical instruments and kettledrums." she also took on here a french artillery captain, a doctor, and two sergeants. the guns were mounted before she reached martinique, and while there a sham sale was made. so it will be seen that jack and the young engineers had ample reason for mistrusting the vessel whose career reads like a chapter from romance rather than the actual history of a ship that, possibly, did more to foment international disputes concerning the venezuelan war than anything else.--author. chapter iii. the young exile. the night proved clear and beautiful, a typical southern evening most fitly closing a day that had been flawless. all the afternoon the sky and sea, so nearly of the same cerulean hue that where they met they matched so perfectly as to seem a curtain of the same texture, had appeared to vie with each other in their placidity, while now the stars overhead were scarcely brighter than their reflections in the waters below. on the rim of the distant horizon shone with a soft luster the glorious radii of the gem of the antipodes, the southern cross. harrie was promptly on hand to keep his meeting with the strange youth, but no earlier than the other, who greeted him in his musical voice: "señor is in good season. it is well, for our time cannot be long in which to talk. while we speak let us walk slowly back and forth, arm in arm, so we shall not be overheard." he spoke in a low tone, a little above a whisper, while harrie allowed his arm to be drawn into the other's grasp, though he was very watchful not to be taken unawares in case of an attack on him. "in the first place," said the young venezuelan, "i judge señor is anxious to know who it is who has placed himself in his way. but before that i would speak of the ship which is at this moment bearing us whither we fain would not go." "what about the ship?" asked harrie, as he hesitated. "what have you to say of that?" lowering his voice so our hero could barely catch his words, he said: "it is a pirate ship, señor!" harrie could not repress a low exclamation at this startling announcement, but he quickly recovered his presence of mind, saying, as he recalled the wild deeds of morgan and his freebooters, conrad and his blue water rovers, who once boasted dominion over these seas: "how can that be?" "at least it is outlawed by the venezuelan government, and a big reward offered for its capture. it is a conscript working in the interest of matos, the outlaw." "who are you who says this, and how come you by this information? you appear to be one of the crew; why is this so?" "i could answer the last question by asking the same of señor. i am here solely with the hope of getting back to my native land, and to the side of my dear mother. perhaps you will understand my situation better when i tell you that i belong to a family that once ruled venezuela. the two guzman blancos, the elder of whom was an american, were my ancestors. my name is francisco de caprian. my family is hated by matos, while father, who is not living now, did something to incur the displeasure of castro, so i am in ill-favor all around," he added, with a smile which disclosed two rows of very white teeth. "notwithstanding this," he added, "i am anxious to get back to caracas, to protect my dear mother in these perilous times, and, it may be, strike one blow more for my country. the de caprians can trace their ancestry back to juan ampues, who founded the first spanish settlement in venezuela, and one of them was a captain under bolivar. whatever they may say of my family, they have ever been true to their native land. the illustrious general blanco did much for downtrodden venezuela, if some complained of him. you cannot suit all, señor, at the same time. whither do you wish to go?" "to caracas," replied harrie. "i am glad to hear that, señor, for it will enable us to join fortunes. that is, if you do not hesitate to associate with me. i am frank to say that i am likely to involve you in trouble; but, at the same time, judging you are strangers there, i may be able to help you. then, too, i do not believe they will dare to molest you to any serious extent, so long as your country is not mixed up in this imbroglio. yet a south american aroused is like a wild bull, whose coming actions are not to be gauged by his former behavior. i never have found an american who could not take care of himself." "thank you, señor francisco. i trust you have not found one who would desert a comrade in an hour of need." quick and earnest came the reply, while the young venezuelan grasped harrie's hand. "never, señor." "you shall find my friends and me faithful to our promises." "i was confident of that, or i should not have dared to address you. believe me, the risk was greater than you may realize. were my identity to become known on this ship i have no doubt but i should be hung at the yardarm, or shot down like a brute, within an hour." the youthful speaker showed great earnestness, and with what appeared to be genuine honesty and candor. at any rate, harrie was fain to believe in his honor, and without further delay related enough of his experiences for the other to understand the situation of his friends and himself. "i was very sure you were here involuntarily," said francisco, when he had finished. "it is likely we can be of service to each other. from what i have been able to pick up, we are to coast along the shore of venezuela, leaving here and there arms and ammunition for matos and his insurgents. it is possible we shall stop at maracaibo. in case we do so, that will be the place for us to leave the _libertador_. if there is a chance before, we shall be remiss as to our personal welfare if we do not discover and improve it. the eyes of the watch are upon us," he said, in a lower tone, "and we had better separate. keep your eyes and ears open until we have opportunity to speak to each other again." before harrie could reply, the other had slipped away, and he was fain to return to his companions, whom he found anxiously awaiting him. in a few words he apprized them of what had passed between him and the young venezuelan outlaw, francisco de caprian. "his words only confirm what we had concluded, and for that i am inclined to believe the young man in part, at least. i was in venezuela at the time of the downfall of that pompous patriot guzman blanco, and i knew something of the de caprians. possibly it was this fellow's father who was mixed up in the muddle, and who was killed, according to report, soon after i got away. mind you, i say this, but it will be well for us if we are careful whom we trust. in venezuela every man is a revolutionist, and where revolutions reign the sacredness of human faith is lost. as we seem to be in for our share of lively times, it may be well for us to look at the situation intelligently." "i am surprised at the small amount i know of these south american republics," declared harrie. "though they are much nearer to us, i really know far less of them than i do of european nations of to-day, or the ancient empires that crumbled away long years ago." "it is usually so," replied jack. "it is a trait of human nature to be reaching after the things beyond our reach, while we push right over those near us. the history of south america is a most interesting one, but the most interesting chapter is close at hand, when out of the crude material shall crystallize a government and a people that shall place themselves among the powers of the world. i should not know as much as i do of venezuela if it had not been for the two years i spent there quite recently--years i am not likely to forget." "ojeda, the spanish adventurer who followed columbus, named the country venezuela, which means "little venice," from the fact that he found people living in houses built on piles, which suggested to him the 'queen of the adriatic,'" said ronie. "very true," argued [transcriber's note: agreed?} jack. "these were natives living about lake maracaibo, but the name was extended to cover the whole country, though its original inhabitants did not, as a whole, live in dwellings on poles, and move about in canoes. this alonso de ojeda carried back to his patrons much gold and many pearls that he stole from the simple but honest natives." "if i am not mistaken, vespucci, who had so much to do with naming the new continent,[ ] accompanied ojeda's expedition," said harrie. "very true," replied jack. "i am glad to think that he was more humane than the majority of the early discoverers, who treated the natives so cruelly. the indians of this country were not only rapidly despoiled of their gold and pearls, but they were themselves inhumanly butchered or seized and sold into captivity. the result was they soon became bitter enemies to the newcomers, who thus found colonization and civilization not only difficult but dangerous. among those of a kinder heart who came here was juan ampues, whom your young friend, harrie, claims was an ancestor of his. ampues succeeded, through his kindness, in winning over the natives to his side, and he was thus enabled to found the first settlement in venezuela. this was in , and the town whose foundations he laid still exists under the name he gave it, santa ana de coro. but for the most part the spaniards treated the indians in a brutal manner, and in the end the unfortunate race was looted and slain." "but i have read that the people of venezuela fell into worse hands when the country was leased for a while to the germans," said ronie. "right!" declared jack, earnestly. "you are evidently well posted on history. germany's hold was broken in , but it took two hundred years to conquer and settle venezuela, while all the slaughter of human lives and vast outlay of wealth proved in the end a poor investment for old spain. one by one her american dependencies have slipped away from her control, and venezuela has the honor of being the first to gain her freedom from old world tyranny. "the first effort to break the chains was made in . this was unsuccessful, and another attempt was made in , this time by general francisco miranda, who invaded venezuela with an expedition organized in the united states, this revolution was successful only so far as it served to awaken the people to the possibility that lay before them. the prime opportunity came when napoleon dethroned ferdinand of spain, and the inhabitants of this dependency declared that they would not submit to this napoleonic usurpation. though this movement was made under a claim of allegiance to the deposed king of spain, he was incapable of seeing that it was for his interest to stand by them, so he renounced their declaration. the result was another declaration made on july , , a declaration of independence and a constitution in some respects like ours." "it seems a bit strange that they should have an independence day that comes so close to ours," said harrie. "yes; and it is quite as singular that the first blow for liberty was struck by their ancestors on the same day in april that our forefathers fired their opening guns upon the british at concord and lexington," replied jack. "what means that confusion and those loud voices upon the deck?" asked ronie, as they were arrested in the midst of their conversation by the sounds of a great commotion having suddenly begun over their heads. "there is something new afoot!" declared jack. "it sounds as if there was going to be a fight. follow me, and we will find out what it means." [ ] our geographies were wont to credit this nobleman with having given his name to the continent, but modern research has shown this to be an error. the country was already called by the native inhabitants amarca, or america, which vespucci very appropriately retained in his written account of the new world, the first that was given to the scholars of that day. from this fact his name became associated with that country, and he became known as "amerigo" vespucci, which was very appropriate, though his real name was albertigo. later writers, without stopping to investigate, declared that the continent had been named for him, and in that way others accepted the mistake as a fact. the truth is the name of "america" is older and grander than that of any of those who followed in the train of columbus, and was that appellation given it by the ancient peruvians, the most highly civilized people on the western continent at the coming of the great discoverer.--author. chapter iv. put in irons. as the three hurried to the deck of the _libertador_ they found the noise and confusion increasing, though the seamen were fast falling into their line of duty with greater regularity. captain willis was on hand giving out his orders in his brusque manner. "where away has it been sighted, lookout?" called the commander. "off our windward quarter, captain." "maintain your watch, sir, and report if there is any change." "they have sighted land," whispered jack. "it must be one of the islands lying off the venezuelan coast." both of his companions could not help feeling a thrill of pleasure at this announcement, while they hoped it might lead to their speedy escape from their present uncertain situation. but, from their position, no trace of the looked-for shore could be discovered, and it is safe to say no three upon the vessel watched and waited for the morning light with greater anxiety than the two young engineers and their faithful companion. at different intervals the lookout announced the situation as viewed from his vantage ground, but no satisfactory word came until the dawn of day, when even those upon deck saw in plain sight the shore of one of the tropical islands dotting the sea. while our friends were looking on the scene with intense interest, francisco de caprian passed by them, whispering as he did so: "the island of curacao. it looks as though we were going to touch at the port." he did not stop for any reply from our party, but jack said to his companions a moment later: "if i am not mistaken curacao belongs to the dutch. it is about fifty miles from the venezuelan coast, and westward of caracas." "which means that we have passed the line of that city," said ronie. "exactly." "had we better try and land here?" "i am in doubt. perhaps young de caprian will be able to advise us. there is no doubt but they intend to stop here." this was now evident to his companions, and half an hour was filled with the exciting emotions of entering harbor after a voyage at sea. as they moved slowly toward the pier it became evident that they had been expected, for, early as it was, quite a throng of spectators were awaiting them, and among the crowd were to be seen a small body of troops. at this moment francisco managed to pause a minute beside them, saying: "they are stopping here to take off one of matos' officers. the island seems to have been turned into a sort of recruiting ground for the insurgents." "aren't the dutch neutral in this quarrel?" "they are supposed to be, but it is my opinion considerable secret assistance is being given the insurgents from europe--particularly from the germans. but i shall create suspicion if i talk longer. above all, appear to be indifferent to whatever may take place." "you do not think we had better try and leave the vessel here?" "you could not if you would. every movement of yours is watched. be careful what you say or----" francisco de caprian did not stop to finish his sentence, though his unspoken words were very well understood by the anxious trio, who saw him among the most active of the mixed crew a moment later. then they were witnesses of the embarkation of a small squad of venezuelan soldiers under charge of an officer who appeared in a supercilious mood. "whoever he is," whispered jack, "he stands pretty near the head, and he evidently intends that every one shall know it. our stop is going to be short. well, the shorter the better, perhaps, for us. if we should succeed in getting ashore we should find ourselves in the power of the insurgents, which, it may be, we are at present," he added, with a smile. "all we can do is to keep our eyes open and await further developments." jack realized that his companions knew this as well as he, so he did not expect a reply, while they watched the following scenes in silence. they saw the last of the little party of insurgents on shipboard, and soon after the _libertador_ was once more ploughing her way through the blue water of the caribbean. their course was now south-southwest, but nothing occurred during the rest of the day to break the monotony of the voyage. the newcomers went below immediately, so that our friends saw nothing of them. toward night francisco found opportunity to speak a few words to the three. "we are steering directly for the venezuelan shore," he said. "i overheard captain willis say that he intended to land somewhere near maracaibo, where, i judge, our passengers are going. we may find opportunity to escape then." "do you think we shall touch port again soon?" asked ronie. "the officer and his followers whom we took aboard at curacao are to be left somewhere near maracaibo. that is all i have been able to learn. they are extremely careful what they say." the following morning it was found that the _libertador_ was flying signals, which jack declared were intended to attract the insurgents. "mark my words, we are approaching the shore so closely that we shall soon sight land." jack proved himself a true prophet, but before this announcement came from the lookout, something of a more startling nature took place. about an hour after sunrise the sail of a small coastwise vessel was sighted, and within another hour the stranger had been so closely overtaken that she was hailed in no uncertain tones. the reply was uttered in defiance, and the sloop showed that she was crowding ahead with all the speed she could, a steady breeze lending its favor. but it soon became evident that it would be a short race, and then the bow-chaser of the _libertador_ was brought to bear upon the fugitive. as the first shot our heroes had heard in the war rang out over the sea, and the leaden messenger struck in close proximity to its target, the strange sloop was seen to soon slacken its flight. a few minutes later, in answer to the stentorian command of captain willis, she lay to. "it is war in earnest," said harrie, as they saw a boat let down from the cruiser, and the second officer, accompanied by half a dozen men, started toward the prize. "i wonder what they will do with the sloop now she has capitulated?" "we shall know as soon as the mate and his men return," replied jack. it proved in the end that an officer and half a dozen men were sent from the _libertador_ to take charge of the captured sloop, which took an opposite course from that pursued by her captor. the latter continued along the coast, flying her signals, but did not offer to touch shore until jack assured his companions that they must be near to maracaibo. then an unexpected thing happened. though aware that they were continually under close surveillance, they had not been molested in any way until now they were ordered below. upon showing a little hesitation in obeying, ronie rand was sent headlong to the deck by a blow from one of the sailors, sent to see that the order was carried out. "our only way is to obey at present," whispered jack, leading the way to their berths below, followed by their enemies. they were left here by the latter. for a little time the three remained silent, each busy with his own thoughts. finally harrie said: "this begins to look serious. why is it done?" "it looks to me as if they were afraid we might try to leave them as soon as we come to port, and they have taken this precaution." "what can they wish to keep us for?" asked ronie. "we have been of no benefit to them." "true. but they may possibly fear to let us go free, as we are americans, and would be likely to inform our government about some things they think we may have learned of them." "hark! i believe they are coming back." while this did not prove true at the time, it was less than an hour later when an officer, with four companions, did visit them, the former saying he had received orders to put them in irons. upon listening to this announcement, the three looked upon their captors and then each upon his companions, unable, at first, to comprehend the statement. "why should we be accorded such treatment?" demanded jack. "we have done no harm to any one, but have come and remained as peaceful citizens of a country that has no trouble with your government or its subjects." the officer shook his head, as much as to say: "i know nothing of this. my orders must be obeyed." then he motioned for his men to carry out their purpose. although they were not armed, except for their small firearms, and the venezuelans carried heavy pistols and cutlasses, the first thought that flashed simultaneously through the minds of our heroes was the idea that they could overpower the party, and thus escape the indignity about to be heaped upon them. but, fortunately, as later events proved, the calmer judgment of jack prevailed. if they succeeded in overpowering these men, they must stand a slim chance of escaping. in fact, it would be folly to hope for it under the present conditions. thus they allowed the irons to be clasped upon their wrists and about their ankles. this task, which did not seem an unpleasant one to them, accomplished to their satisfaction, the men returned to the deck, leaving our friends prisoners amid surroundings which seemed to make their situation hopeless. chapter v. escape from the libertador. during the hours which followed--hours that seemed like ages--the imprisoned trio were aware of a great commotion on deck, and jack assured his companions that the _libertador_ had come to anchor. "we are in some port near maracaibo," he said. "i feel very sure of that." "if we were only free," said harrie, "there might be a possibility that we could get away. it begins to look as if we are not going to regain our freedom." "i wish we had resisted them," exclaimed the more impulsive ronie. "i know we could have overpowered them." "it would have done no good in the end," replied jack. "in fact, it would have worked against us in almost any turn affairs may take. in case we do escape, we shall be able to show that we have not given cause for this treatment. the united states government will see that we are recompensed for this." "if we live to get out of it," said ronie. "that is an important consideration, i allow," declared jack. "but i never permit myself to worry over my misfortunes. so long as there is life there is hope." "i wonder if francisco knows of this," said ronie. "if he does, and he must learn of it sooner or later, he will come to us if it is in his power," replied harrie, whose faith in the outlawed venezuelan was greater than his companions'. some time later, just how long they had no way of knowing, it became evident to them that the _libertador_ was again upon the move. whither were they bound? no one had come near them, and so long had they been without food and drink that they began to feel the effects. had they been forgotten by their captors, or was it a premeditated plan to kill them by starvation and thirst? such questions as these filled their minds and occupied most of their conversation. "i wonder where colonel marchand thinks we are?" asked harrie. "i tell you what let's do, boys," suggested the fertile jack greenland. "let's remind them that we are human beings, and that we must have food and drink or perish. now, together, let us call for water!" the young engineers were not loath to do this, and a minute later, as with one voice that rang out loud and deep in that narrow place of confinement, they shouted three times in succession: "water! water! water!" this cry they repeated at intervals for the next half hour without bringing any one to their side, when they relapsed into silence. but it was not long before an officer and two companions brought them both food and drink. they partook of these while their captors stood grimly over them, ready to return the irons to their wrists as soon as they had finished their simple meal. the only reply they could get to their questions was an ominous shake of the head from the leader of the party. so jack gave up, and he and his companions relapsed into silence which was not broken until the disappearance of the men. "this beats everything i ever met with," declared jack, "though i must confess i have been in some peculiar situations in my time." nothing further occurred to break the monotony of their captivity for what they judged to be several hours. then they suddenly became aware of a person approaching them in a stealthy manner. at a loss to know who could be creeping upon them in such a manner, they could only remain silent till the mystery should be solved. this was done in a most unexpected way by a voice that had a familiar sound to it, though it spoke scarcely above a whisper: "have no fear, señors, it is i." the speaker was francisco de caprian, and he was not long in gaining their side. "how fares it with you, señors?" "poorly," replied jack, speaking for his captors as well as himself. "what does this mean?" "i cannot stop to explain now. this ship is now bound to porto colombia for some repairs. it stopped off maracaibo to land general riera and his staff. from what i have overheard the present commander will leave her there, and one of matos' more intimate followers will become the captain. it is possible we may fare better in porto colombia than out to sea here. but i am not certain. the captain seems concerned over what to do with you, and desperate measures may be carried out. i cannot say. but one fact remains. every moment we are being carried farther and farther from caracas. as far as i could i have arranged for immediate flight. i have bribed a sailor, who will help us get a boat. the night promises to be dark, which will materially aid us in escaping. but there is a lookout who stands in fear of his life lest he lets anything pass his gaze. it is not more than an even chance that we can succeed in evading him and the others. do you care to take that chance with me, señors, or remain here and possibly escape with more or less harm?" "for one," said ronie, "i am in favor of getting away as soon as possible." "will it be possible for us to take our trunk with us?" asked harrie. "we can ill afford to lose that." "i thought as much, señor," replied francisco. "i think we can manage to take it along." though it was too dark for them to see the countenance of their companion, the young engineers looked anxiously toward him while they waited for his answer. jack spoke in a moment: "i know how you feel, boys, and i think i have some of that spirit myself. i have always found, too, that the bold dash for freedom always counted best. if you think we had better take our chances now, i am with you, by the horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please!" "good!" exclaimed harrie and ronie together. "you hear, francisco, that we are going with you?" "_si, señors_. we will begin at once. for i will free you from those irons. then you must follow my directions to the letter." while he was speaking francisco began to work upon the manacles upon ronie's wrists, and he showed that he had come prepared for his task, as inside of five minutes the three were free, very much to their relief. "now," said francisco, "you had better remain quietly here for what you judge to be an hour. then you come upon deck, being careful to get astern without being seen. during this interval of waiting i will have a boat in readiness, and be prepared to lower your chest into it at short notice. you will have to bring this with you, and if it is too heavy to handle easily and rapidly, i should advise you to remove whatever of its contents you can spare. you understand?" "we do, francisco, and we will not fail to be on hand." "i will be there to assist you. in case i fail to accomplish my purpose in getting the boat, you will hear an alarm, in which case you had better replace your irons and stay where you are until the excitement blows over. under these circumstances it will be for your interest to look out for yourselves, as you will know that i cannot help you." "we shall not desert you," replied the young engineers, while they clasped his hands as he started to leave them. "he is a brave fellow, and thoroughly unselfish," said harrie. exchanging now and then a few words, they waited and listened while the silence remained unbroken. at times the sound of footsteps reached their ears, and constantly the steady swish of waters, but nothing to warn them that the plans of francisco had miscarried. "the hour must be passed," declared jack at last. "and we must be moving," added ronie. "can you find your chest easily?" asked the first. "i think so," replied harrie. "follow me." the next five minutes were occupied in reaching the deck with their burden. upon feeling the salt sea breath the three breathed easier, while they glanced about to see if the way was clear. as francisco had prophesied, the night was quite dark, though there were signs in the west that the clouds were breaking away. no one was to be seen nearby, and silently the three stole along toward the place where they expected to meet francisco, bearing the chest containing the instruments, charts and papers of the young engineers. fortunately, this was small, as they had not taken more than was necessary. harrie and ronie bore this between them, while jack followed with every sense strained to catch the first sight or hear the first movement of their enemies. in this way they had passed half the distance, and had caught a glimpse of one ahead whom they believed to be their friend, when a sharp voice rang out an alarm that for a moment fairly took away their breath. before they had fairly recovered the cry was answered from the fore part of the vessel, and they realized that their flight had been discovered. "quick, señors!" called francisco. "in a moment we shall be too late." ronie and harrie quickened their advance, while jack prepared to meet the enemy hand-to-hand, if it should be necessary, while he kept close beside his companions. "the boat is ready," said francisco. "let me fasten the rope about the chest. if we can lower that before they get here, we will give them the slip." already they could hear the crew of the _libertador_ rushing wildly about, uttering confusing cries, which told that they had little idea of what was taking place, the majority doubtless thinking they had been attacked by some unknown and mysterious foes. above this medley of voices rang the stern command of the captain, trying to bring order out of the excitement. francisco had now arranged the rope about the chest, and then it was lowered down the ship's side, rapidly, hand over hand. "they are coming!" exclaimed jack, hoarsely. "if i only had a weapon of some kind i would show them the mettle of my arm." "over the rail!" said francisco, and he and harrie shot down the line at a furious rate. but before ronie and jack could follow they found their retreat cut off, and themselves confronted by a dozen armed men, with others coming swiftly toward the scene. chapter vi. a swim for life. thinking that his friends were close beside him, harrie dropped into the boat arranged for their flight. at the same moment francisco landed in the bow of the slight craft rocking at its moorings, while flashes of light and wild orders of men under the stress of great excitement came from the deck of the _libertador_. "are you all here?" asked the young venezuelan, while he looked hurriedly upward to the scene of excitement over their heads, rather than about him. "jack and ronie are not here!" replied harrie. "hark! that must be them engaged in a hand-to-hand fight." "we must cut loose!" exclaimed francisco, through his clinched teeth. "some of them are coming over the rail!" "boat ahoy!" thundered a stentorian voice from the vessel. francisco was in the act of cutting the boat adrift at that moment, and before the sound of the speaker's voice had died away the fugitives were several yards astern. "ply the oars, for your life!" said francisco. "our lives depend on our work for the next few minutes." loath as he was to make this flight without his friends, it was really all that harrie could do, and he lent his arm to that of his companion, and with each stroke of the oar they were taken farther and farther from the scene of wild commotion reigning upon the deck of the outlawed ship. "they are laying to," panted francisco. "they have sighted us, and boats will be lowered to give us pursuit. ha! that shows they mean business." a volley of firearms at that instant awoke the night scene, illuminating the sea for a considerable distance. but the shots flew wide of their mark, though the light from the guns had disclosed their position, so the following volley whistled uncomfortably near. a darkness deeper than ever succeeded the discharge of firearms, and under this cover the fugitives managed to get beyond range before the third volley could be sent after them. harrie had improved the passing gleams to look for ronie and jack, but he had failed to learn aught of their fates, and his heart was very heavy, as he concluded that he alone had been permitted to escape. francisco was silently bending over his oar, sending the boat swiftly through the water into the unknown dangers that must lie in their pathway. meanwhile, how has it fared with jack and ronie, who found their escape cut off at the very moment they were about to follow their companions? "by the horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please!" gritted the first, seizing upon a stout lever that some one had dropped nearby, and which promised to be a formidable club when wielded by his nervous arms, "when ye keelhaul old jack greenland ye'll hear gabriel's trumpet sounding not far away!" then, as the mob rushed forward, he sprang in front of ronie, who had suddenly found himself flung back from the ship's rail, to be sent headlong to the deck, and swinging his primitive weapon over his head he mowed down a semi-circle of the seamen as if he was cutting a swath of grain. by that time ronie, whose determined nature was aroused by this rough treatment, was upon his feet, holding in his right hand a serviceable small arm that he had been able to pick up. shots were fired upon them by the crew of the _libertador_, but, fortunately, the assailants proved but poor marksmen. one burly ruffian attempting to fell ronie, the latter pointed at his body and discharged his firearm. at least he cocked the weapon and pulled the trigger, but it failed to respond. realizing that it was empty, he used it as a club, and a moment later had cleared his path of the big seaman. at that moment jack cried out: "quick--into the sea!" an instant later their forms disappeared over the rail, and they shot headforemost into the water. almost simultaneously with their escape the deck where they had just stood swarmed with the armed rabble. ronie for a brief while lost consciousness, and then the voice of jack came faintly to his ears: "where are you, lad?" "here, jack." "good! i will be with you in a minute. drop astern as fast as you can." ronie was a good swimmer, and as soon as he had recovered from the shock of his headlong leap from the vessel he gathered himself together, and when jack came alongside he felt equal to the task which seemed to lie ahead. "are you hurt, my lad?" asked jack. "no, jack." "then keep beside me, and mind that you do not waste any of your strength, for if we do not find harrie and the boat it is likely to be a long swim." "where can he be? i believe they are lowering a boat from the ship." "let them lower away, lad. it'll be a long chase before they overhaul us. let's keep a little more to the right, for the boat has in all probability gone that way, if they got away. i am not sure they did, but it looked like it." then, the cries of the excited officers and crew of the _libertador_ growing fainter, as they swam on and on, ronie and jack steadily forged ahead, peering with anxious gaze into the gloom about them for a sight of their friends. at the end of an hour the dark hulk of the _libertador_ had faded from view, and no more did the shouts of the exasperated men on board reach their ears, while they, feeling the fearful strain upon them, moved slowly through the water, hope slowly dying out in their breasts. "we shall not find them!" declared ronie. "we must!" said jack. "let's shout to them again, now, together: "boat a-h-o-y!" as they had done a dozen times before without receiving any welcoming reply, they sent their united voices far out over the sea, shimmering now in the starlight. still no response--no sound to break the dreadful silence of their watery surroundings. "my old arms are not quite tired out yet, lad; hold upon me." "no--no, jack. i am young and strong. i can bear up a while longer. if i only knew harrie had escaped i should feel better." "we can only hope that they have, and fight for our lives a little longer." nothing more was said for some time, while they continued their battle with the sea, each stroke of the arm leaving them a little weaker, until it seemed to the castaways that they could not hold up much longer. "the race is almost over, lad," said jack, at last. "i feel worse for you than for myself. you have been a true boy. it does not matter so much with an old wornout veteran like me, but you are----" "look, jack!" exclaimed ronie, in the midst of his speech. "i believe that is the boat!" his companion glanced in the direction pointed out by ronie, and a glad cry escaped his lips. "boat, ahoy!" he cried. "help! h-e-l-p!" then they listened for a reply, fearing lest the other should fail to catch their faint appeal, for both were so hoarse and exhausted that their united voices could not reach far. "it is a sloop," declared jack. "it is coming straight down upon us. they cannot miss us--ay, they are veering away! they have not heard us--they have not seen us--they are going to pass us. once again, lad, shout for your life. it is our only hope." never did two poor mortals appeal with greater desperation for succor, and a moment later a low cry of rejoicing left their sea-wet lips as the reply rang over the water in a piercing tone: "ahoy--there! where away?" "here--to your lee!" replied the castaways, and then, quite overcome, they suddenly lost consciousness. chapter vii. taken ashore. neither jack or ronie had a full realization of what followed. the sound of a voice that seemed to be muffled rang dimly in their ears, and soon after strong arms lifted them bodily from the water, to place them in the bottom of a boat. some one spoke in a language they could not understand, when the boat started back to the larger craft awaiting its return. by the time they had been taken upon the deck of this strange sloop both had recovered sufficiently to understand their situation. a motley-looking crew stood around them, but they did not give these particular attention at the time, as one who was in command immediately caught their notice. he was a stout-framed, bewhiskered man of middle age, and in spite of his foreign dress, plainly an american. but he seemed to be the only american on board the sloop. prefacing his question with an oath, he demanded: "who are you, and where did you come from?" understanding the suspicious character of the _libertador_, jack was wise enough not to acknowledge that they had come from that vessel until he should deem it good policy to do so. accordingly he answered: "we are two castaways who fell overboard from a ship just out from maracaibo." "pretty seamen!" declared the other, showing that he scouted the idea. "is it a trick of yours to fall overboard every time you step on deck?" "we were only passengers," replied jack. "as you will see, like yourself, we are americans, who have come to this country with peaceful intentions." "as if anybody was peaceful at such a time as this. what are your names?" "mine is jack greenland, and my friend's is roland rand," replied jack, respectfully. "names are nothing," grunted the other. "you look like drowned rats. if you will go below with one of the men he will see that you have a change of clothing." "we do not care for that, sir, captain----" "captain hawkins, sirrah. if you prefer wet duds to dry ones it is not my fault. shift for yourselves while i look after my men, who are as lazy a lot of devils as ever swore in spanish." jack and ronie were in a dilemma. while they hesitated about arousing further the other regarding their identity, it seemed cowardly not to say or do something for harrie and francisco, whom they believed afloat in the boat, though not certain of this. exchanging a few hurried words, jack then ventured to address the captain again, though he felt he was treading upon dangerous ground. there was that air of mystery about the sloop and those who manned her, which already created a feeling in the breasts of our twain of doubt as to the honesty of the craft. what was this single american doing in these waters with a venezuelan crew, not one of whom did they believe could speak a word of english, and certainly not one of whom appeared as if he would shrink from cutting a man's throat in case that person stood between him and any purpose he may have had in view. "captain hawkins," said jack, frankly and fearlessly, "we wish to ask whither you are bound. we realize we are under great favor to you, but we are very anxious to learn the fate of a couple of friends whom we have reason to believe were adrift at the time we found ourselves in the sea." "humph!" grunted the captain. "i should like to know what you expect of me. you may thank your stars that i am an american, as that fact alone has spared your lives." "for which we are very grateful. but for the sake----" "if you haven't been on this craft long enough to know that i am her master it's because you ---- ---- idiots, and fit food for the fishes only. i will leave you at the first sod of earth that i see. is that enough?" it was a trying situation. it was evident that it would be worse than useless to continue this subject under his present mood. "they are better off than we were," declared jack, aside to ronie. "that is, if they really gained the boat." "i would give a good deal to know," said ronie. "captain hawkins is tacking ship," declared jack, a moment later. "what does that mean?" "i cannot tell, unless, by the great horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please! he means to keep his word, and run us ashore at the first point of land to be reached." "that will take us away from harrie," said ronie. "too true, lad; too true!" "jack, what do you make of captain hawkins and his men?" "they are greater mysteries to me than the officers and crew of the _libertador_. i set them down at once as pirates, but these fellows stump me out of my boots. all we can do is to watch and wait. they have done us one good turn, anyway." standing by the rail of this strange sloop, jack and ronie watched in silence the scenes that followed. dark clouds had again risen on the sky, obscuring the stars in the west, while throwing a gloom over the sea far and wide. captain hawkins paid no further attention to them, but appeared oblivious of their presence. "are all of the ships that ply in these waters like those we have found?" asked ronie, in a low tone. "not all, lad," replied jack; "but i fear by far too many have followed in the wake of sir henry morgan and his buccaneers. by my faith, lad, we must be going over very nearly the same course pursued by that infamous outlaw of the sea when he sailed with his expedition to sack the coast of venezuela in the last half of the seventeenth century. in he captured the important city of puerto bello, the booty obtained amounting to over , pieces of eight, to say nothing of rich merchandise and precious gems. encouraged in his unholy warfare by these ill-gotten gains, he rallied his lawless forces for another raid. so, early in , he sailed with fifteen vessels and men in this direction, making the rich city of maracaibo his object. again success came to him, and at that city and panama he reaped a greater harvest of spoils than he had done at puerto bello. but this time spain had got wind of his intentions, and sent a mighty squadron to intercept and capture him. at last it seemed as though the bold outlaw must yield, but his daring stood him still in hand, and by a sudden and unexpected swoop upon his unsuspecting foe he carried confusion and dismay into their midst, burning several of their ships and actually routing the fleet. there was still a blockading fort to pass, but throwing his colors to the breeze, now bearing directly down upon the guns, and then veering off, he succeeded in running the gantlet without the loss of a vessel. "as may be imagined, morgan was king of the buccaneers now. did he need more men he had but to say so, and they flocked to his standard by scores. so a year later, in command of thirty-seven vessels and over two thousand men, he started upon the most difficult and the most audacious expedition ever planned by the wild outlaws of this coast. the outcome was too horrible to contemplate. the spaniards fought well, for their all was at stake, but against the demoniac followers of a man who knew neither mercy nor hesitation in carrying out his infamous purposes. panama was laid in ruins, and her unhappy inhabitants were nearly all inhumanly butchered or spared to fates even worse. following this terrible expedition, the infamous leader was knighted by an infamous king, and for a time it seemed as if his evil deeds were to bear him only fruits of contented peacefulness. but it was not long before his old spirit began to reassert itself, he fell into trouble, was seized for some of his crimes, thrown into prison, where his history ends in oblivion." ronie was about to speak, when the cry of "land--oh!" came from the lookout, when their attention was quickly turned toward a dark line that had seemed to come up on the distant horizon. "the sloop is about to lay to," declared jack. "and it looks as if they were going to lower a boat," added ronie. "by the horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please! that is what they are doing. i wonder what is on hand now?" they were kept in suspense but a short time, when captain hawkins approached them, saying: "whatever else jerome hawkins may have to answer for, it cannot be said that he ever failed to keep his word. you said you wanted to go to venezuela. yonder lies its shore, and i bid you a hearty god-speed. no thanks, sirrah," as jack was about to speak, "you go your way and i'll go mine." without further words he turned upon his heel, and our twain had no further opportunity to exchange speech with him. a moment later they were ordered by gestures more forcible than speech to enter the boat, and knowing they could do no better, they obeyed. a crew of four accompanied them, and in a short time the keel of the boat grated upon the sandy shore of a point of land jutting out into the sea. understanding what was expected of them, and knowing it would avail nothing to resist, jack and ronie sprang out upon the land. without even a parting gesture, the boatmen started upon their return to the sloop, whose dark hull loomed up gloomily in the distance. so intense was the feeling of the utter loneliness hanging over the hapless couple that neither of them spoke until they had seen the boat reach the strange sloop and the four seamen climb to the deck, when jack said: "well, my lad, we are in venezuela at last." "but how different is our coming from what we had expected." chapter viii. jaguar claws. jack greenland made no reply to the remark of ronie. in fact, there did not seem anything for him to say by way of answer. they saw that the country which lay back of them appeared barren and desolate. a few sickly shrubs pushed their crabbed heads above the sand dunes, but as far as they could see in the night the country was nearly level, and nothing more inviting than a sandy plain. the only cheerful sight that greeted their gaze was the crimson streak marking the eastern horizon, and which announced the breaking of a new day. "i would give a good deal to know where harrie is at this moment," said ronie. "we can only hope that he is able to look after himself," replied jack. "and we can only make the most of our situation. as for me, i feel better on this sand bar than i have felt on board such ships as we have known since leaving colon." "if this is a sample of venezuela," said ronie, "i am heartily sick of it already." "it is not. from what captain hawkins said, i judge we are on or near the shore, where the narrow tongue of water connects lake maracaibo with the sea. if this is the case we are twenty miles from the city. the lake is about one hundred and twenty miles long and ninety miles wide." "but there must be some town nearer than the city you mention," said ronie. "quite likely. as we can do no good by remaining here we might as well do a little prospecting. it may be well for us to move cautiously, as it is uncertain how we shall be treated. it is unfortunate that our letters of credit and other papers were lost with our chest." "and all of our instruments and charts. truly, jack, it would seem as if we had been prompted to undertake this trip under the influence of an unlucky star." jack made no reply to this, but led the way from the shore, closely followed by ronie. it was getting light enough for them to move with ease, as well as to get a good idea of their surroundings, which were not very inviting so far. but in the distance could be seen the dim outlines of the mountains and the borders of one of those luxuriant forests for which south america is noted. something like half a mile was passed in silence, when jack paused, saying: "if i am not mistaken, there is a small settlement off to our right. perhaps we had better get a little nearer, though i hardly believe it will be good policy for us to be seen until we get a better understanding of our situation. we certainly cannot boast of being able to present a very attractive appearance," he added, ruefully, while he looked over his companion and himself. in their bedraggled garments, not yet fully dry, it was small wonder if they did present a decidedly disheveled appearance. "do you think we are liable to an attack from the inhabitants in case we should be seen?" "i do not know what to think. if this rebellion is general then we are in constant danger. i know of no better way than for us to push ahead and find out." suiting action to his words, jack resumed the advance, with ronie still beside him. it was now rapidly growing lighter, which was a source of satisfaction to them, as the cover of the growth they were entering promised to prove as effective a shield as the darkness had been when upon the sand plain. contrary to the expectations of jack, they had not found the settlement looked for. in fact, as far as they could see, there were no signs of habitation anywhere in that vicinity. thus, as they advanced, a feeling of loneliness came upon them that they could not throw off. "i would give a good sum, if i had it, just to hear some one speak," declared jack, thrusting his hands into his pockets, to pull them out the next moment with a prolonged whistle, which caused ronie to start with fear at the unexpected sound. "what is it, jack?" "by the horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please! talk of being penniless when one pulls out of his pockets a whole handful of spanish coin." "it must be what you took in exchange at colon," said ronie, appearing relieved to find that nothing worse than a happy discovery had for a moment seemed to upset his companion. "i may have a little, too," beginning to search his pockets. "if i have not got money, then i have something here that may prove of use to us," producing a small pocket compass. "right, lad," said jack. "zounds! here's something that pleases me quite as much as the spanish silver pieces. here is the old knife i have carried with me on so many jaunts that it seems a part of myself. it had slipped down between the lining and the outside cloth of my jacket. in this jungle one feels better to have something with which to defend himself, even if it is nothing more than a good, stout knife, with a blade that has been tried and tested in some tough scrimmages. i think more of the old knife than ever." the revival of jack's usual good spirits served to encourage ronie to somewhat forget their perils and uncertainty. "let's see," said jack, dropping the coin back into his pocket, but holding the knife firmly in his hand, "if i'm not mistaken, by going due west we shall eventually reach the shore of lake maracaibo. we shall not have much difficulty then in reaching the city, from which we can go by rail to caracas; if not all of the way, nearly so." "in that case the compass will come in handy," said ronie, and having selected their course, they now pushed forward with better courage than at any period since they had come to land. it must have been half an hour later, and the sun was now sending its bright bars of light down through the umbrageous branches of the forest trees, one kind of which was laden with a profusion of bright and beautiful flowers, making the largest and most magnificent bouquets of floral offerings ronie had ever seen, even in the philippines, where the vegetation abounds on the grandest scale, when they were attracted by the sound of a human voice. "there we get what a few minutes ago i was willing to give a big silver piece to hear," declared jack. "by my faith, the fellow has lusty lungs. he must be getting excited, too." "his tone shows he is in great fear," said ronie. "whoever he be, he is in some great danger or critical situation." "perhaps we had better push ahead, so as to lend him a helping hand in case he needs one." quickening their pace they tore through the tropical vegetation, the undergrowth of which stood high over their shoulders, in the direction of the appeals for help. these grew rapidly louder and more fraught with terror. "he is close at hand," panted jack, and the next moment they came upon a startling sight, which, for a brief while, held them spellbound. the underbrush had here been beaten down, and bruised into fragments by the furious trampling back and forth of a huge specimen of that king of the south american forest, the jaguar. the cause of the anger of this terrible brute, equal in size and ferocity to the tiger of the jungles of asia, was the sight of a human being--a man--suspended in midair, almost over the head of the maddened creature. it was this person who had given forth his frantic cries for help, and who, unconscious of the arrival of strangers upon the scene, was continuing to utter his piteous appeals. his situation was as singular as it was startling. somehow his feet had become caught in the topmost branches of a tall, slender sapling, which, bowed by his weight, held him head downward in the air, swaying to and fro like the pendulum of a clock. fortunately, the tree was too small for the jaguar to climb so as to reach him in that way, while he hung just above the clutch of the brute as it sprang upward time and again in its furious attempt to seize its prey. at that moment the infuriated creature was crouching to the earth preparatory to making another vault into the air in order to pounce upon its victim. then the scent of newcomers reached its nostrils, and its small, piercing eyes quickly became fixed upon its prey within reach. the long tail lashed the air with renewed fury, the lissom form hugged closer to the ground, as it made swift preparation to spring upon the couple who had dared to enter its domain at this critical time. to jack and ronie it was a moment not to be forgotten. the first clutched his knife savagely, but what could he hope to do against such a foe with so simple a weapon? in the brief interval between the discovery of the brute and its attack upon them, ronie's gaze fell upon a thrice-welcome sight. this was nothing less than a short, serviceable-looking firearm, lying scarcely a yard distant from his feet. it was doubtless the property of the man hanging from the pendant tree, and who had somehow dropped it at the outset of his meeting with the jaguar. he had no time to think of this, or even to question whether the gun was loaded or empty before the dark form of the jaguar shot into the air, and the maddened creature came like a cannon ball toward the twain. "jump for your life!" cried jack, and so closely followed the animal upon his words that, as the couple separated, ronie springing to the right and he to the left, an outstretched paw of the creature brushed a shoulder of each as it sped past them! the jaguar had not struck the ground a few feet away, flinging up a cloud of dirt where he landed in a heap, before ronie had seized the firearm. it was the work of but another instant for him to cock the gun and bring its stock to his shoulder. as quickly as this was done, the jaguar had as quickly recovered from the effect of its disastrous jump, had wheeled about, and now crouched for a second leap, his maddening rage increased twofold by his recent failure. the muzzle of ronie's firearm now caught its attention, and our hero was now its object. so hurriedly had this all taken place that ronie was still in ignorance as to the condition of his weapon, and knowing that his life hung upon the result, he took hasty aim and pulled the trigger. a quick, sharp report sent a thrill of joy through his frame, while it was so swiftly followed by a cry of rage that the latter seemed an echo of the first, and then the jaguar again sprang upward and forward, fully ten feet into the air before it descended at ronie's feet, snarling, twisting, struggling, in an outbreak of fury frightful to behold. trembling lest his shot had only served to add to the volcano of ferocity burning in the brute's form, ronie would have failed to retreat quickly enough to escape its claws had not jack's ringing voice warned him of his danger. the next moment his companion was beside him. "you fixed the creature," declared jack, "but it dies hard. give it plenty of room, lad, we can afford to." then, in silence they watched the dying struggles of the brute, as it beat earth and space with its lacerated body, now groveling in the dust, now bounding upward in blind endeavor to reach an enemy it could not see, each moment growing weaker, until it lay at last quite still, scarcely less terrible to look upon in death than it had been in life. "your shot saved us," said jack, frankly. "it was well done, lad, exceedingly well done, and it alone has saved us from the claws of the jaguar." chapter ix. the mystery of the photograph. "it seemed as if i could not miss, jack; but i do not care to go through that ordeal again." "nor i, ronie. but now that we are safe, let's look after the chap over our heads. it must be he needs our aid bad enough. i never saw one in just such a predicament." the hapless man had ceased his outcries, and was trying to find out what had taken place underneath him, and as to what bearing it would have upon his fate. seeing no other way to reach him, ronie immediately climbed the tree holding him. his weight, added to that of the other's, caused the sapling to bend so that jack was soon able to reach the poor fellow by standing under him. "a little lower, lad, and i shall be able to get him. his feet are caught in the tree's bootjack, but i--there! i have got him free and clear. look out that the tree doesn't hang you up." jack quickly laid the man upon the ground, and began to straighten out his limp limbs. "has he fainted?" asked ronie, quickly joining him by springing from the tree to the earth, leaving the sapling to leap back into its normal position with a force that cut the air like a lash. "he is overcome by his experience. but he'll soon come out all right, as i do not see that he has been injured more than a few scratches. looks like a tolerable sort of a fellow for a south american. got a little of the native blood in him mixed up with the spanish. he belongs to the common class." the man was a person of middle age, of slight figure, but wiry build. he presented a somewhat warlike nature by the armament he carried about his body. this consisted of a pair of heavy pistols, a huge knife, and inside his stout jacket a pair of smaller pistols were to be seen. he also had fastened about his waist by a belt a good stock of cartridges, evidently for the firearm ronie had picked up. certainly it had not been for a lack of means of defense that he had fared so roughly in his meeting with the jaguar. it seemed like a long time to our friends before he opened his eyes and revived enough to seek a sitting posture. then he rubbed his head, stared stupidly about, and tried to regain his feet, giving expression to his surprise in spanish. both jack and ronie were able to converse in that language, and jack at once assured him of his safety at that moment. he was profuse in his thanks, though somewhat reticent in regard to himself. he had climbed a tree near the sapling, but somehow had lost his footing and fallen into the topmost branches of the latter. lodging between the branches of this his weight had brought it and him into the positions in which they had been found. the jaguar had come along, and discovering him began at once its attempted attack. that was what jack and ronie made out of his disjointed account. "i do not know what to make of him," said jack, aside in english. "he is either afraid of us, or he is a rogue. probably both. i will see if i can find out where we are." then, addressing the venezuelan, he said: "how far is it to the nearest town?" "you mean san carlos, señor?" "_si, señor_," replied jack, at a hazard. "have you friends at san carlos?" asked the other, without answering the question propounded him. "i hope so, señor." this reply seemed to stagger him for a moment, but he managed to recover in a moment, when he said: "how long have you been in this country, señor americanos?" "since sunrise," was the reply, which gave the other a second surprise. "i do not understand, señor." thinking nothing could be gained by withholding all of the truth from him, jack soon explained how they had been lost overboard from a vessel in the gulf, picked up by another, and then left ashore among strangers in a strange land. he did not consider it necessary or advisable to enter into descriptions of the ships they had recently left. if his account aroused at first some suspicion in the mind of the venezuelan, jack's honesty of tone quickly dispelled this, and the other said: "you have been unfortunate, señors. there are many ships upon the sea at this time who do not care to pick up strangers. no doubt the craft was one of castro's spies. they are looking far and wide for the _libertador_, but they cannot find her," he concluded, showing evident pleasure at the thought. then he asked, as if a new thought had come suddenly to him: "what do they say of us in the great republic?" "the sympathy of the united states is ever with the down-trodden," replied jack, cautiously. "but we are not able to say just how our nation looks upon the revolution here, except that it will see fair play, for you must remember it has been nearly a year since we left home." the other showed his disappointment at this, but soon asked: "have you friends in this country?" "if we were at caracas we might find them." at this the man shook his head. "it would be worth more than your lives to get to caracas at this time. the 'sons of liberty' are looking sharp after the dogs of castro." "this man is one of the insurgents," was the thought which came simultaneously to jack and ronie. then the latter asked: "you said we were near to san carlos. is this town held by castro or by the followers of matos?" "you prove yourself a stranger, señor, by your words. san carlos holds the blackest spot on fair venezuela, the dungeon that keeps in captive chains the noble el mocho." "you mean general hernandez, señor? i have heard of him. but i thought he was once friendly to castro." "so he was, señor, until the tyrant abused the common people, then el mocho led his gallant followers against castro, was betrayed by a cowardly dog, and now he lies at san carlos a captive." "do you live near here?" "_si, señor._" then he added, with a curve of his lips, which gave an ugly-looking smile: "when i am at home. i was going hither when i met with this little adventure, which would have ended the warfare of manuel marlin for the freedom of poor venezuela. if you will come with me the hospitality of my humble home is at your disposal." "i do not think we can do any better than to go with him," said jack, aside to ronie, "providing we keep our eyes and ears open." ronie was about to signify his assent, when an object nearly buried in the crumpled foliage and torn up earth where the jaguar had made its stand, caught his attention. it was about the size of an ordinary postal card, and at first glance looked like a piece of cardboard. but ronie had discovered on the other side a portrait, which prompted him to pick up the photograph, as it proved to be. it was crumpled and soiled, but hastily brushing as much of the dirt from it as he could, he gazed earnestly at the sweet, womanly face pictured before him. as he gazed the color left his countenance, his hand shook so it threatened to drop the card, while he exclaimed in a husky voice: "my mother!" jack showed almost as much emotion as his young companion, as he stepped quickly beside him, saying: "your mother's photograph in this place? how can that be?" "i do not know, jack. but it is surely hers. see! it was taken in new york." "doubtless señor marlin can throw some light upon the matter," declared jack. "you picked it up almost under where he had been hanging. the photograph fell from one of your pockets, señor manuel?" asked jack, addressing the venezuelan. the latter had retreated a few paces, and he showed considerable agitation, while he shook his head, replying in a low tone: "if it was in my pocket, i did not know it, señors. some one else must have dropped it here. it would not be strange, as there are many scouts in the forests at this time." both jack and ronie felt sure that the man was trying to deceive them, but deemed it wise not to let him know it. "i mistrust the fellow," whispered jack, aside. "we must keep a close watch upon him. i do not think he understands english, so he does not know what relation the portrait may bear to you. let's feign indifference in the matter, and keep with him." so ronie placed the photograph in one of his pockets without further remarks, though he found it difficult to conceal his emotions. while he was doing this jack signified to manuel marlin that they were anxious to go to his home, or at least to be shown the way out of the forest. then, with rapid steps, the venezuelan led the way out of the jungle, not once looking back in his hasty advance. this gave our friends opportunity to exchange thoughts, though they were careful not to say enough to arouse the suspicions of their guide. "i cannot understand what it means," declared ronie. "how could mother's picture be brought here, and why?" as this was a question jack could not answer, he merely shook his head, adding: "this fellow, or some of his friends, may have been in new york, and accidentally picked it up. in that case it would not indicate any cause for worriment." "i cannot help feeling, jack, that there is some other explanation. i cannot help thinking that in some way it portends trouble to mother. it can do no harm to question this fellow more closely in regard to the matter." "we will take our chances on that score, though i believe he is a thoroughbred liar." then they did question this man as closely as they thought prudent, but without gleaning a single ray of light upon the subject. in fact, he persisted in maintaining an absolute ignorance in regard to it. so finally ronie was compelled to drop the subject, while he tried in vain to find some plausible explanation of the mystery. manuel marlin showed that he was glad of the sight ahead, when at last they reached the edge of the forest, and found themselves looking at the rim of sandy sea-coast, with the glimmer of water in the distance. the day was very calm, and the bay stretched as smoothly as if formed of plate glass, while overhead the sky had that peculiar flat appearance so common in the tropics. "does señors see that dismal building on yonder point of land?" asked their guide, and, without waiting for their reply, went on: "it is the fort of san carlos, where the 'el mocho' is chained like a dog!" "look yonder!" exclaimed ronie, "there is a train of men going thither now." "looks to me as if they were conducting prisoners to the penitentiary," said jack. "if my old eyes do not deceive me one of them is an american." "i am sure you are right, jack. let's get a little nearer, so we can see as they pass along." their guide showed some hesitation in doing this, though he led the way somewhat circuitously forward, so as to gain a view of the soldiery train without being seen themselves, saying as he did so: "this is more of the dirty work of castro's dogs of war." chapter x. "we have been betrayed!" ronie and jack paid but little heed to the words of their companion, as their attention was already fixed upon the file of men moving with martial steps toward the gloomy structure, whose walls had echoed to so many cries of distress from its heart-broken captives. even now this squad was taking thither two prisoners, as jack had said, and one of these had awakened an exciting interest. he was surely an american, and in the distance there seemed something familiar about him, which caused them to hold their breath while they watched and waited. then the truth of their convictions finally overpowered their doubts, and ronie exclaimed under his breath: "it is harrie, jack!" "ay, lad; and francisco is with him." "what does it mean, jack?" "one thing certain, lad; they have escaped the sea. it is better than becoming victims to that." "i agree with you, jack. now that we have found them it will be our duty to rescue them. perhaps manuel here can give us some light on the subject." the train had by this time passed beyond them, and not thinking it wise to follow, our friends turned to their companion for such information as he might be able to give. upon learning that the prisoners were friends of theirs, manuel suddenly became very friendly. "so you belong to the sons of liberty!" he exclaimed. "yonder penitentiary is where castro imprisons some of his most important captives. but it won't be so for long. the mountain indian[ ] cannot long hold his own against the noble matos, who belongs to the guzman blanco family. señors shall soon see their comrades free." while this thought tickled the vanity of the venezuelan to a high degree, it did not afford any satisfaction to jack and ronie, the last saying: "we must act promptly in their behalf. have you any plan to suggest, manuel?" "only this, señor. i know of one who lives in san carlos, who makes it his business to keep posted on what is going on. i will see him at once, and no doubt he will be able to give us information that will be of assistance." ronie and jack gladly agreed to this, and while manuel was seeing his friend it was thought best for them to remain at his home. this proved to be less than a mile away, so it was only about an hour later that the venezuelan started upon his errand, leaving our twain anxiously awaiting his return. since he had learned that they had friends in the hands of his enemies, he had grown very friendly. they had not thought it best to say anything to create a feeling of distrust, but ronie freely confessed to jack, as soon as they were alone: "i want to know what harrie's imprisonment means before i decide to which side i belong." "it is generally prudent to take the side of the government," replied jack. "i can easily understand how an insurgent like manuel can come to hate the name of castro, and call him a savage from the mountains. mountaineers sometimes are men who accomplish much, and president castro seems to be one of them. i remember a few years ago, about eight, when i was in this country, he suddenly appeared from obscurity to lead a body of men against president crespo in the interest of president andrade. he soon proved that he was made of good metal, for he usually led his followers to victory. the crespo party being successful, the president offered castro a position in his cabinet if he would desist from further opposition. possibly the daring mountaineer foresaw greater possibilities, for he declined the honor. then, when president crespo named general andrade as his successor, castro appeared on the colombian frontier with the nucleus of a revolutionary army. from the very outset success perched upon his banner, and after overcoming the government troops wherever he met them, taking city after city, all the time receiving reinforcements to his army, he laid siege to the capital. president andrade fled at this point of the war, and general castro was declared ruler of the republic. our country a few months later was the first, i think, to recognize him as ruler. i do not think he has been elected president by vote of the people.[ ] be that as it may, his dash and courage, with considerable military ability, has endeared him to a large number of the people. general matos and his followers, on the other hand, claim that he has been corrupt in his management of the country's affairs, as well as dictatorial beyond the bounds of endurance." from a discussion of the affairs of the country, they began to seek some solution to the mystery of the photograph found in such a strange way, ronie firm in his belief that his mother was in dire distress at that very moment. "i cannot help thinking that for some reason she is in this country, jack, and in trouble." "tut--tut, lad! that cannot be. the mere fact that her picture has in some way found its way to this place does not prove that she is nearby, too. no doubt, as soon as we reach colonel marchand we shall get good news from her. she may have sent her photograph by him to you, and some of the rebels have stolen it." "forgive me, jack. of course that may have been the case. now you speak of it, it is really the most likely solution to the mystery. by that i am led to believe that you think colonel marchand has joined president castro's party." "he would be likely to do it. in fact, it would be good policy for him to do so, as it would be necessary for him to be on good footing with the government in order to carry out the business venture which has drawn us all to this country." "i agree with you, jack. i feel better, too, in regard to mother. now if we can rescue harry safely it will bring great relief. i wish manuel would come with some word of him." "do not get impatient, lad. it is likely to take the fellow some time to get his information, even if he gets any. i do not have great faith in the rascal, and if we were not in his own house, i should not expect to see him back." if jack counseled patience in waiting for the insurgent's return, he quite forgot his advice before manuel marlin put in an appearance, and with good reasons, for it was well into the following night before he came. he seemed then greatly excited, and told his story in a disjointed way. "señors' friends came ashore in a boat from the _libertador_," he declared, in what seemed an exultant tone. "then castro's spies captured them and threw them into prison. but señors need not fear, for the sons of liberty will soon free them. even now matos is hewing his way toward the capital. many recruits are being added to his army, and never did the prospects of down-trodden venezuela look brighter." "so our friends are held as prisoners of war?" asked jack. "as spies under matos," replied manuel. "perhaps i should add, señors, that francisco de caprian has been recognized as an old offender against castro. but they cannot hold him any more than they can hold long el mocho." if this information did not disturb the spirits of manuel marlin, it did awaken considerable uneasiness on the part of ronie and jack. "perhaps, if we should see the authorities at san carlos they might set harrie, at least, free," said ronie. manuel shook his head. "no power below castro's can free them until matos enters san carlos." ronie was about to reply, when a commotion outside of the dwelling arrested their attention, and before they were able to understand what it meant, the wife of the venezuelan hurriedly entered the apartment, exclaiming: "fly, for your life, manuel! the yard is full of soldiers searching for the gringos!" even ronie knew this last word was a term applied by the spanish races to americans, and that he and jack were the objects sought for by the newcomers. manuel marlin quickly anticipated the truth, and he cried out in alarm: "we have been betrayed! some one has carried the news of your coming to el capitan. quick! flee from here, if you value your lives and mine." [ ] president castro was horn of humble parentage, his parents being of mixed blood, mostly indian, in the mountainous district of western venezuela. thus the revolutionists were wont to paint him as an untamable savage, who had come to the surface in the turbulent broil of the uprisings of the times and had hewn and burned his way to the presidency. manuel matos was of superior birth, and was related by marriage to the guzman blanco family. he had had some military experience under president blanco, but was more of a civic leader. he claimed that the castro administration was corrupt.--author. [ ] singularly enough, general castro was elected president for a term of six years on february , , within a few days of this talk.--author. chapter xi. a perilous flight. renewed outcries now came from outside the building, and it seemed evident that the mob was about to enter the place. certainly it would unless something could be done to evade such a movement. jack greenland was the first to speak: "can't you or the woman parley with them long enough for us to slip away by the rear of the building, manuel?" "me--parley? they would string me up like a dog. curses upon their pig heads!" by this time his wife had become calmer than he, and she showed that if he was lacking in courage to meet the enemy, she was not. so she immediately offered to keep the crowd at bay long enough for them to effect their escape, her husband showing great eagerness to profit by her heroism. accordingly, she returned to the front part of the dwelling without loss of time, and a moment later ronie heard her challenging the leader of the would-be captors. "while it may not be good policy for us to use them too freely, it may not be amiss for us to provide ourselves with firearms," said jack. "si, señors," replied manuel, quickly darting away from them, but returning in an incredibly short time with a couple of short, but serviceable weapons, one of which he handed to each of his companions. "follow me, señors. they are getting impatient, and dolores will not be able to hold them back long. i think we had better cross the bay to the other shore. i have a boat." as ronie and jack had no better plan to offer, they followed the speaker in silence. he led the way to the rear of his humble dwelling, where they paused to listen for sounds of their enemies. these came from the front, and judging that the soldiers had not yet surrounded the place they plunged boldly into the midst of the dense tropical plants which reached above their heads, manuel still leading the way. but they had not gone far before he suddenly stopped, and motioned for his companions to do the same. as the three fugitives thus abruptly paused they heard the sound of footsteps, which rapidly became plainer. there were evidently several persons approaching at a headlong rate, and knowing only enemies were likely to be in that vicinity, they dropped swiftly and silently to the earth, the broad leaves of the thrifty plants about them affording shields for their bodies. a minute later, half a dozen men burst through the rank vegetation within a yard of where they were lying! jack and ronie, believing they were going to be discovered, thought hastily of flight in another direction, but the party quickly swept past and disappeared in the distance below them. as soon as they felt it was prudent they resumed their flight, having no further cause for alarm until they came in sight of the narrow body of water ahead. between the growth and this was a broad belt of sand, where not a shrub found sustenance. the clear, starlit night made this space almost as bright as by day. "hark!" panted manuel marlin, "they are coming! they have scented us like bloodhounds. our only hope is in reaching the boat. it is just above that highest sand bar. run for your lives, señors!" ronie and jack now heard plainly the sounds of their enemies approaching from their rear, and the exciting words of their companion were not needed to urge them ahead. with light, swift steps they bounded forward across the open country. when about halfway to the shore a volley of bullets was sent after them, and then their pursuers burst out from the growth into sight. the aim of the pursuing crowd must have been poor, for their shots failed to strike any of the fugitives, who were urged on to greater effort, if that were possible. jack, glancing back, saw the party following at a furious pace upon their heels, and instinctively glanced toward the water. it was nearer to the boat than back to their pursuers, and he felt confident they would be able to reach the little craft in season. ronie was slightly ahead, while manuel was as far behind, unable to make as good speed as the young american engineer. "don't leave me!" sputtered the latter, and as if he were going to make this a necessity he stumbled over a sand knoll, to measure his length on the ground. his companions, not hearing him fall upon the soft earth, and being ahead, were not aware of his mishap until prolonged yells from their pursuers and piteous cries from him, caused both to look backward. the ring of triumph in the tones of the soldiers in the distance told plainly that they anticipated a certain capture of at least one of the fugitives, but manuel rallied quickly, and was again upon his feet. "keep on for the boat!" cried jack, who felt that it would be fatal for them to stop now. so they sped ahead, with manuel sprinting his best to overtake them, and the armed posse behind madly pursuing. they were soon close down to the boat, drawn up on the white sand, out of the reach of the water, and then ronie and jack, panting for breath, stopped beside it. "quick! push it out into the water," said jack, seizing upon the gunwale and giving the object a furious shove toward the tide. ronie had already caught upon the boat, and together they sent it forward more than its length in the twinkling of an eye. but the short delay enabled manuel to overtake them, so, as the boat floated on the water, he sprang into the stern. there were a pair of oars in the bottom, and jack and ronie each took one of these, to begin to send the light craft flying across the narrow bay, while the venezuelan steered for the opposite shore. renewed cries from their pursuers reached their ears in the midst of this flight, and another volley of shot followed them. but the latter proved as ineffectual as the first, and glancing back a few minutes later, manuel gave expression to a chuckle of delight, while he said: "we've outstripped them, señors. there is not another boat they can get in season to follow us before we reach the land." nothing further was said until the keel of the boat grated on the sand, when ronie and jack jumped out upon the land, closely followed by manuel. the shadowy forms of their enemies could be discerned upon the other side of the water, but feeling comparatively safe from them, our twain turned to their guide for such suggestion as he might have to offer. it was a beautiful tropical night, the full, round moon of the south, now fairly above the horizon, was gliding over a sky of cloudless blue, having already driven the stars into the background of space, so that only venus, the zone of orion and the brilliant radii of the southern cross were visible. away from their feet stretched the silvery mirror of the sea, marking the meridian of the moon. so calm and silent lay the deep water that a satellite sky seemed carved from its azure depths. upon the other hand, the country, growing more and more broken in the distance, lay clothed in its tropic verdure as silent and mysterious as the blue water empire. the beauty of nature, however, had no attraction for manuel marlin, who felt that his life was at stake, and only swift flight could save him. "a friend of mine, living a short distance from here, has a couple of horses you can get," he said. "i shall not need one," he added, seeing their looks of inquiry, "as i shall not go very far. i have friends who will afford me protection until this shall blow over." then he led the way up from the shore and along a path at times nearly choked with the overhanging growth, until they finally reached the home of a planter. after considerable trouble manuel succeeded in rousing the owner, who did not appear in very good humor at being thus disturbed. but as soon as he understood the errand of his untimely caller he became more genial. would he let the americanos have horses to carry important news to the revolutionists near caracas? most assuredly he would for so important a purpose! it will be noticed that manuel did not try to stick very near to the truth in the matter, and neither of our friends felt like correcting him under the circumstances. finally the planter ordered out a couple of peons, who soon brought forward a pair of small, but hardy ponies, which their owner declared were good for all that might be required of them. leaving manuel to arrange for the loan of them in such a manner as he thought best, ronie and jack sprang into the saddles and prepared to start upon their long and hazardous journey. "keep your eyes open for our friends, manuel," were the parting words of ronie. "trust me for that, señor, and may you live to come back with the welcome word that caracas is once more safe from the spoils of the mercenary knaves that flock to the mountain savage." murmuring an unintelligible reply to this, the couple then urged their ponies forward, and a moment later were starting side by side upon the first stage of a ride through a country overrun with hostile armies and dangers which they had not stopped to contemplate. chapter xii. a lonely ride. ronie and jack were crossing the vast plain which extends westward and southward along the shore of lake maracaibo, upon the border of which stands that beautiful city by the same name, and which is the capital of the state of zulia. the climate of this region is warm, but cooled by the lake breezes, as well as by the breath of old ocean, it becomes very enjoyable. thus they rode on under conditions that must have been pleasant had it not been for the shadows of war which overhung every step of their journey. the road, if the trampled path at places overgrown with rank vegetation, and at others smooth and bare as an open floor, deserved the dignity of the name, soon after leaving the sand belt of the coast, wound across broad fields of sugar cane, indigo and tobacco, or through great plantations given over to the cultivation of cacao trees, which yield those luscious beans that have been described as affording food for gods. these trees to flourish well have to be protected by some taller species of tree, and for this purpose the tall, over-arching _erithynas_ is raised, giving the scene the appearance at a distance of being a huge forest, rather than a cultivated field. frequently the progress of our heroes was checked, if not quite stopped, by growths of weeds which had sprung up on deserted plantations. in venezuela land is so cheap that it is more advantageous to abandon a tract of land when it becomes worn out by cultivation, and clear a new territory, than it is to reclaim the old. the latter thus soon becomes a forest of weeds, which, insignificant at first, soon develop into trees with branches, so that by the second season these overtop the head of a man on horseback. these huge tree-weeds afford support for dense masses of creepers, among which ronie noticed the convolvulus, begonias and passion flowers. these at places hung their flowering heads so as to form graceful festoons, or anon lifted them proudly to the breeze, forming picturesque bowers and floral archways. if displaying beauty and magnificence in their bountiful offerings, these jungles were anything but pleasant paths to follow, and it required skillful management on the part of the rider to save himself from being pulled from his seat, or escape that fate he might expect at the hands of the hangman. the native riders show wonderful ability to run these gantlets, which the newcomer must naturally lack. now hanging by one leg down the side of his horse, or stretching himself along its back, he would escape the blows a novice would be sure to receive while continuing his flight with speed scarcely abated. by and by, however, ronie and jack came out into a more thickly populated country. the sun was beginning to crimson the eastern horizon with its early beams, and the two drew rein for a short consultation. "i am afraid we have kept too far to our right," said jack. "manuel spoke of leaving the mountains over our shoulder, and we seem to be approaching them." "if the country is becoming more broken, it has the appearance of being more thickly populated. do you think, jack, we need to stand in much fear of the insurgents in this vicinity?" "manuel spoke of a victory for his side recently at barquisimete, and if i am not mistaken, we shall pass near that city--certainly near enough to be within range of the revolutionists. in fact, i feel pretty sure that the revolution is mainly centered in this part of the republic." "i almost wish we had taken the route to valencia." "no doubt, whichever we had taken we should wish we had taken the other before we reached our destination. but that is not the right way to look at it. we must put on a bold front and push ahead." "in order to do that we must see that our horses have sufficient food to enable them to keep moving, even if we go hungry ourselves." "right, my lad, and if there is an inn in yonder village i suggest we stop there long enough to allow them rest and feed." "i agree to that. shall you claim to be a revolutionist or a follower of castro?" "at present that must depend on circumstances. ha! as i thought, we are approaching a coffee planter's little republic, with the liberty of his followers left out. look beyond that ridge, and in the valley formed by the twin ranges of foothills you will see a typical peasant settlement, which certainly denotes that not far ahead we shall come upon some wealthy planter. these peons of venezuela are to all intents and conditions slaves, resulting from the debts, it may be, contracted by their remote ancestors, as generation after generation have been doomed to work to satisfy the laws and customs of a country which never outlaws its debts, when those debts have been contracted by a weaker party. the consequence is that the poor of these south american states are destined to remain poor until some radical change has been made in this direction. it is true, venezuela is not as bad off in this respect as some of the other republics, but it is bad enough here. ay, in south america the word 'republic' loses the significance of liberty that it bears in other lands. it is natural a people condemned to lifelong poverty, for no fault of their own in most cases, should be ever ready to listen to the call to arms as a summons to a holiday. so you see it is easy to raise an army of this sort, and it is small wonder venezuela has been bothered with so many outbreaks against its peace and progress. but here we are close upon the spacious abode of the coffee planter, who is the principal man of this vicinity, unless there happens to be another of his class." after having seen the pyramidal structures of the peasants or peons, with roofs slanting to within a few feet of the ground, and thatched with palm leaves, the collection looking like a colony of beehives, ronie was somewhat surprised to find now a dwelling that closely resembled the houses of his native land. it was, in fact, a fine residence, standing back several rods from the road, and reached by a broad avenue running under rows of stately trees resembling the american elms. he was to learn that these were known here as the _alcornoque_, lifting as graceful heads, and as tall, tapering trunks as their northern cousins. everything about this home of the coffee planter denoted wealth and comfort, in marked contrast to the humble huts scarcely beyond the vision, and of a style of architecture peculiar to the country. "whoever lives here must be a man of importance," remarked ronie. "true, lad, and being such a rich man, we are running little risk in assuming him to be a follower of castro at this time. the cultivation of coffee is, in fact, a more certain way of earning a competence, and it may be, something above a living, than any other calling in venezuela. for this reason nearly all others have been neglected. sugar cane can be raised profitably, but that requires more capital to start with, and more manual labor to carry it on. to cultivate sugar successfully one must fertilize it, so to speak, with gold. but any man, if he is poor, can have a coffee estate if he has courage to work and wait for a short season. the day his bushes yield their first red berries he finds something coming into his pockets. the berries are worth as high as thirty dollars a hundred pounds, and cost less than one-third to raise. so you see a poor man, who may have hired the use of a piece of land, which he pays for on long instalments, may plant a coffee farm with the aid of his family, living on products that mature earlier on the same land, until at the end of three years he gathers his first crop of berries, followed by a full crop the next year. we shall doubtless meet with more of these small coffee plantations after this. if i mistake not, here comes the planter himself. let us risk it in claiming to be friendly to the government." their approach had evidently attracted the owner of the estate, for ronie had already seen a small, wiry-framed man, of a very dark complexion and dashing dress, coming, toward them. he now stopped to allow them to come forward, saying in a tone of apparent friendliness: "good-morning, señors," somewhat to their surprise speaking in their language. "good-morning," replied both in unison. "you must have taken an early start, señors." "it is because our journey is a long one, señor," replied jack, who acted as spokesman. "our horses are tired, and we would bespeak for them food and rest at your hospitality." "dismount, gentlemen. my men will look after them, while i entertain you." while jack and ronie did as they were told, a couple of peons appeared on the scene, to lead the tired animals away, as the hospitable planter requested his visitors to follow him to his favorite morning retreat under one of the beautiful shade trees standing in his yard within sight of his house. if he had shown a friendly spirit in his tone so far, his next words, as the three sank upon the rustic benches encircling the tree, showed that he was not free from concern in regard to the character of his early callers: "you say your journey is a long one, sirs; no man travels a long journey without an urgent purpose. especially is this true on an occasion like this." jack, who could see no good likely to result from appearing mysterious, replied frankly and promptly: "we are bound for caracas, though it may not be well for every idle ear to catch the word." "right, sir. who would you see in caracas?" "president castro." "then your journey will be in vain, for the president is unavoidably kept away from the capital. you might have traveled much quicker by rail." "possibly. but as you say the president is not in caracas, that would not have helped us. can you tell if minister bowen is at the capital?" "if he is, he would hardly be accessible at this time. come, strangers, throw off your cloak of reticence and let us be frank with each other. my name is josé pelado, and having lived several years in your country, i am free to confess i have imbibed some of your yankee spirit." our americans immediately gave their names, adding that it was to obtain assistance in securing the freedom of a companion that they were on their way to the capital. "i expected something of this kind. it is fortunate that you have come thus far without molestation, and i will assure you you cannot go as far on your next stage without falling into the hands of the guerilla hordes that infest the jungles. but, pardon me for keeping you from the rest and food that you must need. partake of such refreshments as i can offer you, then we will discuss the situation." ronie and jack were not loathe to do this, though while they ate, their host related to them much they had not known of the situation in the country. he showed that he was not only an educated man, but that he was well posted upon affairs, while he was very pronounced in his admiration for castro. "venezuela has had revolutions and shades of revolutions, but not one more unwarranted than this. castro is a patriot, and the uprising that he led a few years since, and which placed him at the head of the government, is no more to be compared to this than the snarling of a cowardly cur seeking to rob a bigger dog of his breakfast because he is too lazy to hunt for his own, is to the good, honest bark of a mastiff that seeks to defend his master's property. andrade's administration, following crespo's, was grossly dishonest, and would have drained the republic of its healthy interest, had it not been for the mountain patriot, castro, who fought his way straight from the venezuelan frontier, a good thousand miles, to caracas, the capital. in a twinkling andrade went out and castro went in. he lost no time in setting about to clear up the clouded system of government. it required a masterly hand to guide the current of affairs. he soon found it difficult to know whom to trust. "among those who had rebelled with apparent honesty against crespo and then his successor, andrade, was the hunchback warrior, manuel hernandez, called by friends and foes alike as 'el mocho.' his forces were scattered about in this region, he having rallied them by inflammable speeches against andrade, whom he declared had been selected by fraud. finally two thousand men, under the command of a relative of crespo, met his band of scarcely five hundred near valencia. in this unequal fight crespo was killed and his men utterly routed by the hunchback, who instantly sprang into wild favor. his little army was swiftly increased by recruits. the people in general rejoiced at the fate of crespo, who had made himself obnoxious to many. but the military prestige of hernandez suffered an early frost. andrade sent his minister of war to treat with him, and in the next battle he was defeated, his troops utterly routed, and he himself put into prison. "then castro's triumph completely changed this. andrade fled, and many of the followers of el mocho joined the new ruler, who soon freed hernandez, and offered him a place in his cabinet. hernandez accepted, though it proved that he had not stifled his ambition to become president. he improved his new opportunity to inflate some of castro's followers with his wild dreams. he believed he had had the experience now to enable him to overthrow the ruling power, so he stole out of the capital between two days, leading a small army at his heels. "el mocho made a desperate fight for his cause, but he misjudged the ability of his rival. castro did not worry over his escapades, but when the favorable opportunity came he caught the hunchback rebel and returned him to the prison where he is likely to remain for a goodly time. castro is the last man to be baffled where so much is at stake. what can be on foot now?" chapter xiii. in the enemy's country. the last words of josé pelado were called forth by the sudden appearance of a peon with the announcement that a body of insurgents had been seen the night before, and that a flock of cattle had been killed or driven away by them. upon receiving this intelligence, the coffee planter replied in spanish in a tone that showed great anger. when he had conversed with the messenger for a few minutes he turned back to his guests, saying: "the hungry hounds are again abroad. that mountain outlaw, juan rhoades, is at his old pranks, and this time he has become bolder than common from the fact that he has succeeded in calling about him more than five hundred rebels. news also comes from san carlos that two spies are in this vicinity, and that efforts are being made to hunt them down. well, let the fools look after themselves. rhoades had better give me a wide berth." ronie and jack were beginning to think it was about time for them to be on their way. their horses were well rested by this time, so they proposed to señor pelado that they bid him good-by. he seemed disappointed to find they were not going to stay longer, and showed his good-will by offering to send an escort of men to protect them in case they should be attacked by rhoades and his outlaws. but our heroes stoutly opposed this, while thanking him for his kindness. "two will be able to get through where a larger body might attract attention and find it difficult to escape," replied jack. "you seem like plucky fellows, and i think you will get through all right. in case you do need help, do not hesitate to call on josé pelado. if you succeed in meeting general castro give him my regards." these parting words were not spoken until ronie and jack had regained their saddles, and were heading their horses toward caracas. as they dashed out upon the road they noticed a crowd of peons watching them with looks not altogether friendly. "did you notice that tall fellow--the one with the extraordinary mustache--who stood somewhat in the background while we talked with pelado?" asked ronie. "that i did, lad, and i says to myself: 'that fellow is hatching mischief.' he was not in sight the last part of our stay." "i did not see him, jack. what do you think he will do--follow us?" "not exactly; but if we do not meet some of his confederates before night i shall be happily disappointed. at any rate, it behooves us to be on the lookout continually." the way now wound through a coffee country, and they were frequently met by these small planters, sometimes singly, but more often by twos or in squads. "the idleness that usually follows in the footsteps of war seems lo have fallen on the inhabitants," remarked jack. as this did not seem to call for any reply, ronie remained silent, his mind busy with the thoughts of past adventures and conjectures over the possibilities ahead. so the midday was passed, and the afternoon came on apace, while they moved leisurely on so as not to exhaust their horses. these were given their noon meal, and allowed two hours of rest under the friendly shade of a tacamahaca, which was fragrant with the resinous substance that it exuded from its trunk, an opaque, lemon-colored sort of wax which the natives on the orinoco used very much for torchlights. this was a tree of great size and beauty. they were now in a region broken by the outlying spurs of mountain, and about sunset reached a mountain hamlet which bore a decidedly deserted appearance. it had been their intention to push on beyond this place, preferring to pass the night at some isolated planter's than here, but ronie's horse, which had showed slight lameness for several hours, now became unable to go any farther. in this dilemma they looked about for a stopping place. in this matter they soon found they were not to be given much choice. the dwellings were so nearly alike, and built after the pyramidal style of architecture already described, slanting roofs reaching nearly to the ground, thatched with palm leaves, four posts with ox hides stretched between composed the walls, so the collection looked like a colony of beehives. unfortunately, they were soon to learn that it was not "a land of milk and honey." the houses possessed no doors and windows, professedly for the reason that they were not needed in that climate. neither were they needed to protect the occupant from prowling thieves, for the very simple reason that the owner owned nothing worth stealing! after passing nearly the length of this poverty-marked hamlet, our heroes hailed with delight the appearance of a building which looked like a palace when compared to the others. it did prove to be a sort of public house, or, rather, a hospital where people seeking the bracing atmosphere of this mountain retreat and the mineral water to be found here could stop. the lower half of the walls were made of stout planks in the rough, with doors and windows. the upper portion was left open to allow free passage of air and light. ample protection from sun and storm was afforded by the slanting roof, which reached to within five feet of the ground. under these overhanging eaves a narrow veranda encircled the building. half a dozen swarthy-hued men in loose attire, a pair of breeches, tightly buttoned at the knees, and a shirt of bright colors, marked off like a checkerboard, lounged about the abode, but not one of them offered them any attention, except to stare upon them with undisguised curiosity, as our twain paused in front of the main entrance. upon dismounting and entering the building, they were greeted by the proprietor with many smiles and much scraping and bowing. "señor, americanos have heard of the wonderful curative powers of the waters of san andrea, and have come hither to recover their wasted vitality?" he half questioned, half answered, bowing at almost each word which he delivered in a musical tone. "partly for that, and partly for pleasure," replied jack. "our horses are tired, and one of them is lame. we ourselves are weary and dust laden, and so desire rest and quiet more than we do food." "_si, señors_," waving one hand to a group of peons, who instantly left the apartment, ostensibly to look after the jaded animals, and the other toward an opening leading into an adjoining room. thinking it was meant for them to repair thither, jack and ronie did so at once. it must have been dark in the room at midday; it was certainly now too dusky for them to distinguish each other with clearness. seeing two or three clumsy, cedar chairs, covered with rawhide, standing near the wall, they each selected a seat, while they glanced about them with feelings hard to describe. if the place boasted as the resort for invalids and pleasure seekers, it had very little to offer in the way of the comforts of either. it was in truth scarcely better fitted to accommodate its guests than the tent of the wandering arab of the desert. in addition to the rude chairs mentioned, there was a rough table placed against the wall, evidently because it could not stand alone, and a couple of grass hammocks that were intended for the double purpose of bed and lounge. nothing in the shape of a bowl in which to lave their dust-stained faces and hands was to be seen, while they were to learn a little later that water was too scarce at this resort of mineral springs to show any need of it. "well," said jack, in a low tone, "this beats anything we have found before. but if they will give our poor horses care we can get along ourselves." "i suppose we had better give them our personal attention," said ronie. "in due course of time, lad. i wish now we had kept nearer the seacoast, but i will not borrow trouble. who is coming now?" the visitor proved to be an attendant of the house, who wished to inquire in regard to the wants of their "illustrious guests." "we need nothing more at present," replied jack, "than a couple of basins of cool water in which to lave these bodies and limbs of ours." "_si, señors_; your slightest wish is law at san andrea," and, bowing very low, the speaker withdrew, and our friends were left alone for more than half an hour, when the man returned bearing in either hand a small calabash filled with water that was too thick with mud to spill over. these rude dishes possibly contained a quart of the dirty liquid each. depositing these vessels on the table, the servant expressed the wish that they might enjoy a "very excellent bath." "no doubt we shall," declared jack. "did you have to bring this far?" "from the river, señor; two kilometers away." "horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please, we'll excuse you for the time it took you. but haven't you water nearer than a mile?" "a little, señor. supper will be ready when you have washed." after supper they went to examine their-horses, to find that ronie's did not show much improvement. one of the peons, however, had interested himself so far as to bandage the limb in some black decoction that he claimed was good for a sprain, which was evidently the trouble with the creature. this man became very friendly upon finding that his efforts were so well appreciated, and he began to talk glibly of other matters, saying, among other things: "you come from maracaibo, i think, señors. did you see anything of captain rhoades and his bold riders?" "we heard of him," replied jack. "we have been looking for them. are you expecting them this way?" "no one can tell where el capitan will strike next, señor. he is very brave, and he moves about as if he and his men had wings." "is it possible that castro's hirelings have penetrated into this region?" asked jack, as a feeler. "possible it may be, but not probable. he has been whipped on every hand, and i have no doubt general matos will ride into caracas its conquerer before we are much older." "_si, señor_," replied jack, who, finding that nothing more was likely to be learned, led the way back into the house. a few men were standing about in the reception-room, but everything seemed very quiet, giving little indication of the storm so soon to rise. ronie and jack lay down upon their hammocks without delay, believing it would be good policy to rest while they; might, knowing not what an hour might bring forth. they had slept about three hours, when they were awakened by a commotion in the adjoining apartment, supplemented by loud voices. in a moment they were sitting bolt upright, listening to catch what was being said. the tones were loud enough for them to do this, but the speakers, all of whom were talking in spanish, spoke in such excitement and disjointed manner that it was some time before even jack could understand sufficient to explain the situation. "i think it is a band of the mountain guerrillas," he whispered to ronie, as they moved close together. "it may be rhoades' band, i cannot say. ha! they are speaking of a couple of americanos coming this way. now the proprietor is telling them there are two stranger americanos in here. lad, they mean us! it looks so we have got to get out or fall into their hands." before his companion could reply an ugly-looking visage appeared above the edge of the woodwork forming the walls of the building, and which, as has been said, were built only half the height of the structure. then it became evident from the sounds that the body of soldiers in the adjoining room were about to enter their quarters! "we are in for it now!" said jack. "we might as well make a bold dash for liberty. the time for palavering is past." chapter xiv. indian warfare. ronie realized that it was a critical moment for them. while it was too dark in the room to see anything plainly, the dark visages above the walls were silhouetted against the background of the night with vivid clearness. they proved beyond a doubt that the building was surrounded by the armed men. all this flashed through his mind very quickly, for they lost no time in attempting to make their escape. "follow me," whispered jack, leading the way to the rear wall. then, notwithstanding the presence of the enemies without, he caught upon the top of the wall, and, springing into the air, cleared the obstruction with an agility some young athletes might have envied. nor was ronie a bit behind him. seizing firmly on the wall, the young engineer bounded upward, and, turning a complete somersault, landed on his feet a couple of yards beyond the other side of the wall. jack struck within half a dozen feet of him, outside of the cordon of watchers surrounding the building. at the same moment an outburst of cries from inside the building told that the mob within had entered the room our twain had just left so unceremoniously. without stopping to hear more, they darted into the thicket of bushes bordering the clearing about the dwelling. they were barely in time to escape a volley of bullets sent after them by the insurgents, who had rallied with celerity and prepared to start in pursuit, giving expression to loud yells of mingled surprise and consternation at the bold act just performed. these cries served to tell the fugitives of their situation without doing any material harm. at any rate, ronie and jack found themselves several rods from the building before their enemies mustered for pursuit. but at the very outset it promised to be a stern chase. unacquainted with the grounds as they were, ronie and jack had to be constantly on the watch against running into some of the impassable thickets that grew in every direction. the woods seemed to be full of the insurgents, for go whither they would they soon found their further flight cut off in that course by a body of the armed outlaws lying in wait for them, or crossing their path like so many hounds running down a brace of foxes. they could still hear the outcries and excitement prevailing at the building they had left. "hist!" exclaimed jack, suddenly grasping ronie by the arm. "i hear them coming from the right and left. down upon your hands and knees, lad. we must crawl for it." it was evident the enemies were too numerous for them to risk a hand-to-hand struggle, so the fugitives dropped close to the earth and began a tedious advance through the matted bushes which formed a sort of hedge between the parties of insurgents. jack was slightly ahead, but ronie kept as near to him as possible. in this way they advanced for three or four yards. it was quite dark in the growth, but they could discern the forms of the natives plain enough to see that a dozen or more were within a few paces of them. then jack paused, signaling to ronie to do the same by a gentle grip upon his wrist. it had become very still in the jungle-like forest, and ronie was wondering what this movement of his companion meant, when a sharp scream pierced the night air. it was a woman's voice, freighted with great fear and suffering. "we are not the only ones in trouble," whispered jack. "what does it mean? hark, jack! she is pleading for her liberty. there is a man's voice, and he, too, is begging for some one to spare his life. is there nothing we can do for them?" "it looks as if we had about all we could look after to save our own lives, lad. but, as long as it is in our way let's creep a little nearer the place." the insurgents, having apparently moved farther to their right, they cautiously advanced, being careful not to disturb a bush or make any noise. they advanced in this way for a few rods, when they found themselves on the margin of a sunken swamp, dense with a growth of vines and bushes enveloped in moss and lichens. finding this impenetrable, they crawled along its border, though forced to steer more to their right than they thought prudent. it was evidently this impassable jungle which had changed the course of the insurgents. they must have advanced a hundred rods without finding any end to the swamp, when the sound of voices now became distinctly heard, though they were not raised above an ordinary tone. it was the same woman speaking they had heard before, while her accents were scarcely less intense. she was saying, in spanish: "have mercy, señors! i have never wronged you nor the poor country you profess to be fighting for. my poor husband died in her defense, and i am willing to give my life in her cause, but do not torture me." "tell us where he is and we will spare you," replied a masculine voice, pitched in a high key. "alas! i do not know. i would that i did, señors. but if i did you cannot think me cowardly enough to betray him, not at the price of my poor life. god forbid that i should for a moment have such a thought or that you should so far misjudge me in my weakness. he is all there is left me--if he yet lives, which i am not certain--my noble son, the noblest of the de caprians." at the mention of that name ronie and jack instantly remembered the brave young exile then with harrie in prison at san carlos, and, as may be imagined, listened with excitement hard to suppress for the next words, which were hissed rather than spoken by the man who held her a prisoner: "you lie!" and the concealed listeners fancied they could see him lift his armed hand over her head, as if he would kill her then and there. her reply was spoken with the calmness born of despair: "think as you will, señor; i have spoken the truth. had i a dozen lives depending on my answer, it would be the same. kill me if you wish. i can die without a regret, knowing that francisco is not here to witness my death or suffer at your hands, el capitan." "she is francisco's mother," whispered ronie, anxiously. "ay, lad; and he is rhoades, the insurgent leader." "must we let him butcher her in cold blood and remain inactive?" asked ronie, whose hot nature was aroused by this unwarranted treatment of a helpless captive. "hist!" warned jack. "we are watched by an enemy in yon coppice." ronie saw nothing in the direction indicated by his companion, but under the circumstances he felt certain he was right, and he grasped his firearm more firmly, feeling that it would not be long before he would be obliged to use it. the voices of the speakers ahead had become silent, so that not a sound broke the stillness of the scene. "what can we do, jack?" "i have been thinking lad, that it may be well for us to do a little scouting, in order to get a better idea of the situation. that fellow in the thicket has got to be disposed of before we can do much else. if you will lie here and not let any of them spring a surprise on you, i will see what i can do in the way of indian warfare. i do not believe i have lost the little cunning i picked up in fighting the igorrotos of luzon." without waiting for ronie's reply, jack began to creep to their rear, moving so silently that our hero was not aware of his retreat until he had fairly left his side. the voice of the insurgent chief again fell on his ear, followed by the reply of the woman, which was spoken too low for him to distinguish. jack had now disappeared, and he knew he was alone in the midst of enemies. five minutes dragged themselves slowly away without bringing any material change in the situation. ronie had not discovered any sign of jack, but twice he had seen a man's head thrust cautiously above the matted undergrowth where he knew one of their enemies lurked. evidently the scout, for such he judged him to be, was getting uneasy and anxious to end the suspense. during the time he had heard a small body of horsemen ride up to where the insurgent leader and his prisoner were stopping. "jack told me at the end of five minutes to lift my cap on the muzzle above the rim of bushes," he mused. "the time must be up now. i think i will try it." then ronie removed the covering on his head, and, placing it on the end of his rifle barrel, gently raised the weapon as he had been told, in doubt as to what the result would be. he had barely accomplished the simple feat before the sharp report of a firearm rang out, and a bullet sped just over him with a hearty zip! the cap dropped by his side, and when he came to pick it up he found that it had a hole through its crown where the bullet had gone. most assuredly the insurgent was a good marksman, and he shuddered to think what his own fate would have been had he carelessly exposed himself. the shot of the sharpshooter brought an exclamation from the lips of the chief, but beyond that ronie heard nothing to explain to him what was succeeding. he fancied at first he heard the man starting toward him, but he was not quite sure of it. he was becoming alarmed in regard to jack. where could he be all this time? had he fallen into some trap and become a prisoner? in the midst of these reflections he suddenly became aware of the presence of some one near him, and he was about to act in his defense when the familiar voice of jack caused him to stop. "easy, lad! it's all right with him yonder. your ruse worked to perfection and just in the nick of time. i managed to handle him without making a disturbance. his shot has not seemed to arouse them, and it is time for us to act. the road is not far away, and the insurgents seemed to have halted near the outlet of this swamp. i judge they are waiting for some of their force to join them. besides the woman, they have one or two other captives, which i judge they are taking to headquarters. if you feel like looking at them, follow me. we might as well go that way as any other, for the woods are full of the cusses behind us. somehow, they run an idea we have taken to the mountains, which is natural, i suppose." ronie was nothing loath to move, as he had begun to tire of this inactivity, so he kept close behind jack, who began to worm his way along the margin of the lowlands, until, after several minutes of this tedious advance, jack paused. "if i am not mistaken, we are within gunshot of these brown-skinned rebels," he whispered. "but there is no doubt but they are on the lookout for us, and we must move with great caution. let's make another hitch." once more they went forward, keeping close to the earth, and under the cover of the overhanging tropical vegetation, being careful how they disturbed each bush, and with their eyes constantly trying to pierce the gloom around them. so, like woodsmen following some indian trail in the days of the pioneers, they wormed their way along, jack ever and anon lifting his head slightly so as to get a wider view of his surroundings, but always careful not to expose any part of his figure. finally he paused again, ronie quickly imitating his example, while he listened for the explanation he knew his companion was ready to make. though slightly behind him, he had discovered the shadowy outlines of several horsemen drawn up in a semi-circle. "we have reached the road," said jack, softly. "can you see the horsemen just to our right, where the way curves slightly?" "yes," replied ronie, in the same cautious tone. "and the woman? she is a little beyond the main body, on the gray horse." "i see her, now that you have called my attention to her. i should know her by her skirts." "right, lad. the brook is just below. the crafty dogs are still harkening and waiting. but they will not wait much longer. hark! a body of horsemen are coming up the road at this moment! it is probably these they are waiting for." "what do you propose to do, jack?" "get a little nearer, lad." "do you think we can save her?" "we will try, but it can be done only at great risk and under cover of the excitement of the meeting of these squads. come on, lad, every moment is precious to us." chapter xv. a friendly voice. in the work that followed, jack greenland showed that he was no novice in woodcraft, but it would take more space than i can give to it to describe minutely the details of what i shall only attempt to outline. it would not do for them to leave the thick fringe of bushes overhanging the road, and yet, in order to accomplish his purpose, it was necessary for them to shorten the space between them and the rebel riders under "el capitan," as the mountain insurgent was called. to do this more safely, jack retreated about a yard, and then crept forward in the same direction of the road. in spite of his extreme caution, ronie heard a stick snap under his knee, when his heart came into his mouth. fortunately, one of the horses stamped its foot at this moment, and thus the fainter sound was drowned by the heavier. then the harsh voice of the insurgent was heard to exclaim: "fire on the head of the laggard! i cannot wait here any longer. forward, men! on to the mansion, which shall be the cage for our bird." without further delay the body of half a dozen riders struck their impatient steeds smartly with their spurs, and would have swiftly disappeared from the scene, but for an accident to the foremost. his animal, thus suddenly aroused, reared into the air and then plunged forward, but, either stepping into a hole or stumbling, it staggered ahead, coming nearly upon its knees. its rider was flung headlong into the bushes within a hand's reach of our amateur scouts! this mishap plunged the rest of the riders into confusion, nearly unseating rhoades himself, but who rallied with a horrible imprecation upon the head of his unfortunate follower. with rare presence of mind the woman on the gray horse wheeled her spirited animal quickly around to make a bold dash for freedom. there were horsemen behind her, but that was her only way of escape, if she could hope to get away at all. in a moment the entire scene had become one of wildest excitement, and above the clatter of hoofs and the cries of his men, rang the voice of the leader, as he swung his own horse around, calling upon his panic-stricken followers: "don't let her escape! shoot her if must be, but stop her!" the mountain outlaw was about to carry out his own order, when he received a terrific blow from jack greenland, which tumbled him from his seat to the ground. jack and ronie had been quick to perceive that in this exciting tableau lay their chance of action. "mount the free horse and ride down the road for your life!" said jack. "a bold dash will carry us through." then he sprang forward to capture the horse ridden by the insurgent chief, knowing that, could he be successful in this, it would throw the squad into confusion. without a leader they were not likely to make a very effective pursuit. i have described the result of his swift and daring onset. and, as rhoades, stunned by the blow, sank helpless to the earth, the fearless american seized the bridle rein of the frightened horse before it could clear itself from the hand of its former master. almost simultaneously with this action jack would have been in the saddle, but for the fact that the right foot of the insurgent had caught in the stirrup. this caused a brief delay, but, wrenching the offending limb aside, the captor vaulted into the seat just as two or three shots whistled through the air at random from the discomfited insurgents, who were at a loss to account for just what was being enacted in their midst. one of these bullets cut away a lock of his silvered hair, but, unminding his narrow escape, he turned the horse sharply about, crying to the woman, who had succeeded in heading her steed down the road: "ride for your life. it is your only hope." she had already reached the outside circle of the little group, and her horse, a spirited one, cleared the last of the dismayed riders, to bear her down the way at a terrific pace, her long, black hair streaming in the wind as she sped on. once a white face was turned backward for a moment, and then she disappeared from sight. meanwhile ronie was having an experience equally as exciting and even more dangerous to his life and liberty. he had succeeded in catching upon the bridle of the horse that had thrown its rider, and he gained the saddle an instant later, while the terrified animal reared and plunged furiously. but the young engineer had secured a firm hold on the reins, and was likely to obtain quick control over the creature, when he found stout hands laid on the bridle with a power which threw the struggling brute back upon its haunches. the attack of the insurgents, three in number, was so sudden and powerful that ronie's escape seemed impossible. "shoot the dog!" cried one of the insurgents. "don't let him get away!" exclaimed the chief, who had rallied by this time sufficient to realize something of the situation. ronie knew he could expect no assistance from jack, who was having all he could attend to, and he resolved to make a desperate attempt to get away. accordingly, he whipped out the stout knife which had been given him by manuel marlin, and as the shots of his enemies sped past his head, he cut the reins upon which the insurgents were clinging, when the men, suddenly losing their hold, staggered forward, leaving the animal freed from their clutches. finding itself thus relieved of the weight dragging it down, the horse flung up its head, gave vent to a wild snort, and bounded madly over their writhing forms, to rush like a whirlwind down the road, scarcely a head behind jack, mounted on the chief's fleet-footed steed. though nearly unseated by this abrupt onset, ronie held fast to his position, while he was borne on at a rate of speed which fairly took away his breath. even jack, going at his terrific pace, was passed, and then the woman on the stout gray was outdistanced. without check or guidance to its headlong flight, ronie soon found that his horse was running away! the cries and the rifle shots of his enemies were soon lost in the distance, but the young engineer had barely recovered his equilibrium, so to speak, when he became conscious of the approach of a body of horsemen from ahead. naturally expecting only enemies, he began to wonder how he was to come out of this new danger. the sounds of the approaching horses told that this party were coming at a gait almost as swift as that by which he was carried along. thus he was not given sufficient time in which to prepare for the meeting, if any preparation could be made by him in his plight, before he found himself carried into the very midst of a squad of a dozen horsemen, sweeping toward him at a breakneck pace. wild shouts rang in his ears, but if efforts were made to stop him he was not aware of it. in some manner, never quite plain to him, he was carried through the party of riders, brushing against them on the right and left, but clearing them in an incredible space of time, to be still carried on with unabated speed. so far ronie had not gathered his scattered faculties enough to act, but now, remembering that the bridle was still left on the head of the horse he bestrode, he leaned forward and grasped the side straps close down to the bit. perhaps the animal had begun to tire of its wild race. at any rate, it quickly yielded to the strong hands wrenching at its mouth, and began to slacken its speed. all this really took place in less time than it has taken to describe it, even in outline, and the excitement and confusion of the surprised riders in his rear were yet ringing in his ears, when ronie, for the second time, became aware of the approach of horsemen. but before he could obtain control of his own horse, or anticipate who might now be in his pathway, a stentorian voice thundered in english: "halt! who comes here?" chapter xvi. colonel marchand. it was fortunate for ronie rand that he had succeeded in getting control of the horse he rode, or his experiences in venezuela would have terminated in a tragic manner. with the thrilling command of the leader of this body of horsemen, the firearms of his soldiers leaped to their shoulders, and in another moment a volley of bullets would have stopped the advance of our hero. seeing only the inevitable to be met, he cried out: "i am an american! i surrender if need be." "hold, men!" called out the officer. "he is a lone american. he cannot belong to the gang we are running down. who are you, sir?" "my name is roland rand, sir, and i have only recently reached this country. with a friend i am on my way to caracas, and just escaped from the rebels under el capitan." ronie had answered thus boldly and openly, for he was certain the body of soldiers in front of him were not a part of the insurgents he had just escaped by so narrow a margin. by this time the sound of other horses approaching came from near at hand, and the officer ordered his men to be in readiness to meet them. believing them to be jack and the captive woman, he wheeled smartly about, saying: "i believe they are friends of mine. hold up, jack!" he cried, as the latter, with the woman riding abreast of him, came into sight. "i believe these are friends." "halt! who comes here?" demanded the officer. "friends," replied jack, suddenly checking his headlong flight, while the woman followed his example. then, before anything further could be said or done, the officer did a most unexpected thing. urging his horse close beside ronie, he cried: "roland rand! is it possible i find you here?" ronie, at first thinking the other meant to do him harm, shrank back, but he quickly rallied at the familiar tone of the speaker. then, with a wild feeling of joy, he looked more closely upon him, to exclaim the next moment: "colonel marchand!" "at your service, mr. rand, but i am puzzled to know how it is i meet you here, where i least expected to find you." "it is a very long story to tell, colonel marchand, and i will gladly explain it all to you at the first opportunity. this is my friend, jack greenland," signifying that individual, who had not yet recovered from the surprise he had experienced. "glad to meet you, too, mr. greenland. but where is harrie, ronie? is he coming behind you?" "he is in prison at san carlos, colonel. jack and i were on our way to caracas to find relief for him." "what is he in prison for? the penitentiary is mainly filled with rebels now." "that is the charge against him. he was taken under suspicious circumstances, but i can vouch for his honor." "then you are not rebels, ronie?" "no, sir--that is, we have not committed ourselves as being against the government." "good! you evidently carry a level head. i am at the head of a regiment fighting for president castro. we were in hot pursuit of a body of the insurgents whom we routed in a fight below here. but who is this woman with you?" "she is a captive in the hands of rhoades' guerrillas. i do not know her name. perhaps she will give it herself. we were trying to strike a blow in her behalf." the strange woman, thus appealed to, said, in that musical voice so common to the better class of venezuelans: "you are very kind, señors. i do not know that you would care to hear my name, for it has too often been a bone of contention in this unhappy land. my husband was francisco de caprian. i am not ashamed to say that." colonel marchand uttered an exclamation of surprise, and, though ronie rand was expecting this reply, he could not wholly conceal his emotion at the mention of that name which he had learned to both fear and respect. he could not refrain from saying: "you are francisco's mother?" "you know my son!" she cried somewhat wildly. "we met him on the _libertador_, señora. he is now in prison at san carlos with our friend." "then he lives! they told me he was dead. oh, my son! when shall i meet him again?" "i do not understand this," declared colonel marchand, brusquely. "you talk of the _libertador_, the outlawed scourge of the coast, of the de caprians, every one of whom is denounced as spies, and of loyalty to castro, the patriot president, all in the same breath." "i will explain fully if i am given the opportunity," replied ronie, stoutly. "pardon me, ronie," colonel marchand hastened to say. "i do not doubt you, but this is no time for explanations here. we have dallied too long already, if we would catch our birds. go to the rear, you three, under an escort to protect you. mind you, lieutenant garcia, the woman remains with you until i return. we will make short work of the mountain rebels." upon finishing his brusque orders, colonel marchand wheeled smartly about and dashed up the road, followed by his troops, numbering half a hundred or more, lieutenant garcia and three privates remaining to look after the two americans and señora de caprian. the lieutenant showed by his reluctance to move on his duty that he was not well pleased with the plan, and he was heard to exclaim under his breath that it was a shame to be cheated of the sport at this juncture. however, he soon recovered his good nature, and, requesting his companions to follow, rode sharply in an opposite direction to that just taken by his superior officer. about two miles below they came upon a small town, where lieutenant garcia ordered a halt until he should receive further orders from colonel marchand, or meet him in person. this place, which had been the scene of a stirring skirmish a few days before, was now in the hands of the government troops, which the latter did not hesitate to display in their actions. though señora de caprian was treated with extreme courtesy, ronie and jack did not fail to observe that a strict watch was kept over her, and the room assigned her at the house where the little party made its headquarters had a guard stationed outside the door. of course, our heroes were allowed their liberty, but they were only too glad to improve the interval of waiting for the reappearance of colonel marchand by throwing themselves down upon the floor and seeking sleep. it was broad daylight when they awoke, and the sound of a body of horse outside the building at once attracted their attention. they were soon highly pleased to find that colonel marchand had returned. news came to them that he had been successful in his pursuit of el capitan and his mountain rebels. as anxious as they were to see their old friend, ronie and jack deemed it wise to wait until he had sought them. this did not give over half an hour's suspense before an orderly called upon them to say that the colonel was awaiting them in his headquarters. it is needless to say that they lost no time in obeying this request to see him. they found the genial commander established in one of the smaller buildings of the village, engaged in studying a map of the country. but at sight of them he quickly forgot his chart, and motioned for them to be seated, saying: "i have sent for you that i might know your story. we have sent the rebels flying back into their mountain caves like rats driven to their holes. they will not dare to show a head for at least twenty-four hours, so i have a half-day's leisure, except that i must prepare my report to send to general castro. first i want to hear your story, and i suggest you begin at the very beginning, so i may understand its details and know how to act." ronie, acting as spokesman, told their story in as few words as possible from the time they had left manilla to the present moment, interrupted several times by the impulsive officer, who was both surprised and pleased at the information they gave him. "by the right hand of bolivar!" he exclaimed finally, "you may not be aware of it, but you bear valuable intelligence that i shall take the liberty to forward to general castro. the character of the _ban righ_ or the _libertador_ has been pretty well known to us, but you make plain some things which have been dark. i can see how harrie fell under suspicion under the conditions that he was taken prisoner." "you can secure his freedom, can you not, colonel marchand?" the colonel was a tall, slender man, with flashing, black eyes and long mustache, which he was wont to twist very vigorously when he was excited. he gave these a savage twirl now, and, springing to his feet, began to pace to and fro furiously. "i know what i can do, i can try," he declared, returning to his seat after pacing back and forth several times. "if i had been a little more successful up this way, and he himself had not met with so many reverses, i can imagine he might be more willing to grant my request. but i will try--of course, i will try! i can but fail. if i do," and here he lowered his voice, "by the right hand of bolivar, the sword of leon marchand shall be sheathed while cipriano castro holds the rein of government." both ronie and jack were somewhat taken aback by this speech, which they could see was not a discreet one to make, especially in that place. but the excitement of colonel marchand passed as quickly as it had arisen, and he resumed, with marked calmness: "coming here strangers, as you have, you can have little idea of the real feeling slumbering like a volcano in the hearts of us venezuelans. the truth is, our people are the most ungrateful on the face of the earth. all of the revolutions and political plots that have harassed our country have been almost entirely uncalled for, though i will confess our leaders have made an excuse easy through their eagerness to "feather their nests," as you would say. but honest men have ever found little encouragement to remain honest, when the populace stands ready to take up the cry of 'fraud' the moment some disgruntled office seeker utters such a cry to cover his own disappointment. the utterance of the word becomes instantly the battle cry to call the mob to riot and ruin. from a venezuelan riot a general uprising will follow in a single day, until the country is ravaged far and wide. this is accounted for mainly by the fact that the population is made up to nine out of ten of indians, half-breeds and mulattoes, who are naturally ignorant and easily aroused to fight. "matos is followed by just such a rabble. he is rich, but not a soldier by training. still, it was enough that he was brilliant in uniform and pompous in bearing; these, coupled with the rattle of the drum and the tramp of many feet, aroused the mongrel crowd, until the disgruntled rebel found himself tagged by an army of ragged, boisterous, hungry men, who gladly followed him, and follow him still. we saw an example of the stock in el capitan's mountain horde. he escaped me only by the skin of his teeth." "here i am making a proclamation of war when i ought to be preparing my dispatch for general castro. i will use every argument i can for harrie, as i know he is a noble boy, and that his imprisonment is unjust and wicked." "how about francisco de caprian?" asked ronie, for colonel marchand had not hinted of him. "i can do nothing," he replied, with a shake of the head. "the de caprians are very much in ill-favor just now. however, for your sake i will mention him, and suggest that it will do no harm to set him free. i think you said he suggested that he was willing to espouse our cause. by the way, what do you say to a campaign under the illustrious castro, the modern bolivar of venezuela? i will mention your willingness, and you can answer me afterward." then colonel marchand became very busy with the preparation of his dispatch. when it was finished he called an orderly, who was told to see that it was forwarded to the commander-in-chief with as great promptness as possible. "bring me back a reply," added the colonel, and when he had seen the messenger depart he turned to resume his conversation with ronie and jack. chapter xvii. a cunning ruse. "speaking about joining our forces," said colonel marchand, "under the circumstances it will be impossible for me to fulfill my promise to you when i wrote. neither would it be practicable to carry out plans made under different conditions. join our army for a while; it will prove a lively vacation for you, and just as soon as this little cloud blows over we will start. we will have the government behind us, too. it is a great undertaking in more senses than one. i expect to become regularly attached to castro's army within a short time. in fact, i am away now only temporarily. what do you say to becoming comrades under castro?" "i should want to consult harrie before i decided," replied ronie. "so you shall. now that is settled, let us talk of other matters. it is perfectly natural, however, that you should cast your fortunes with ours for a short time. venezuela does not forget that it was due to miranda's experience gained in fighting for the independence of the great republic that he learned something of what might come to his native land, and that it was the friendship of lafayette, hamilton and fox which encouraged him to push forward. when the revolution opened in , the united states furnished venezuela with her munitions of war. two years later, when the earthquake destroyed twenty thousand of our people, she sent supplies with a liberal hand to us. in this crisis, which i believe is to be the most important affair in her history, we stand in need of northern friendship. europe is against us, and in the jealousy of the powers there would gladly hail any pretext upon which she could seize us." "the monroe doctrine must be a great safeguard to you." "if it hadn't been for that these little south american republics would have been swallowed by european powers long before this." "while the swallowing would have caused some bloody wars." "very true, but we are used to that. there has not been a time within my remembrance when there has not been a war of some form in process. speaking of the european nations swallowing us, you may forget that we are three times as large as france or germany, and five times as large as italy. we are larger than any european country outside of russia. something of its natural features may be understood from the fact that it holds within its domain some beautiful bodies of inland water, the largest of which, lake maracaibo, is somewhat larger than lake ontario. within the republic are over a thousand rivers, the largest of which is the orinoco, next in size to the amazon of the rivers of south america. "in regard to its physical features, the country may be divided into three great zones, increasing in size according to the following order: first, the zone of agriculture; second, the zone of grazing land; last, the larger in area than both of the others, the zone of the forests. there are two seasons, the wet and the dry, called winter and summer. "venezuela is thinly populated, having about two and one-half millions of inhabitants. they still preserve the type of the spanish race, which afforded them origin, though they have become largely a cosmopolitan race, due to the mixture with the natives. these have retained to a wonderful extent their primitive beauty, so the men are manly and symmetrical, the women graceful and beautiful." "how is it about the wild horses our geographies describe as still roaming with flowing manes and foaming nostrils and llanoes and pampas?" asked ronie. "they disappeared before the buffalo vanished from your western plains. i would say also of the people, instead of the wild beauties your books tell you are yet living in almost primitive simplicity, you will find, when you get to the capital, women and maidens looking quite as anxiously for the fashion sheet from paris as her sisters in new york. we are apt to think the only civilization is that around us. how well do i remember that my first impressions were that the little space about me in which i was reared comprised the world. gradually my vision extended, and my knowledge expanded, until i find it is a big old world, and that it holds many people." colonel marchand's kindly words, and his willingness to inform his friends, put our couple very much at their ease. ronie improved the first opportunity to speak of that matter which was frequently uppermost in his mind, the finding of his mother's photograph under such peculiar circumstances. he was unable to offer any solution of the mystery, while he showed a deep concern. "i cannot think your mother would come to this country, even with the hope of meeting you, without first sending me word of her intentions. of course, i should have tried and met her at la guayra." "you have not heard from her?" "not a word, though i did expect to get a letter in regard to your coming. i feel very sure the photograph must have been brought from new york by some disinterested party, who came into possession of it by accident. i cannot imagine anything else, though this is rather hard to believe." realizing that colonel marchand had affairs that needed his attention, ronie and jack asked if they might look about the town, and the simple request being granted, they passed the next few hours in exploring the place, though finding little to interest them. the regular inhabitants had nearly all fled, and those who had remained appeared ill at ease under the existing conditions, as they might have been expected to be. "i tell you what it is, jack," said ronie, "it looks to me as if these revolutions are sapping the very life out of the country." "ay, lad; and now it looks as if you and i were to become actors in one of them. i wonder what is going on yonder." these words were spoken by jack as their attention was caught by the sight of a group of people gathered near the building where they had been lodged. as they advanced with quickening steps, it became evident that a fight or street brawl was in process. around this a couple of dozen or more civilians had clustered, and by the way they encircled the combatants it looked as if they were trying to shield them from the gaze of the soldiers, should any of these happen to come that way. for a wonder not one of these was in sight at that moment, though the steady tread of the sentry within the building could be heard as he paced back and forth with measured step. "better give them a wide berth," declared jack. "it never does any one good to get mixed up in one of these senseless encounters. why, if you should go to the assistance of one of them, thinking he was being abused, the chances are more than even he would join with the other in abusing you. by the horn of rock--gibraltar, if you please! this does not seem to be a fight by common brawlers, for their _mantas_ show they belong to the better class of civilians." the garment which had attracted the attention of jack was the _manta_ or _poncho_ made of white linen, which has the quality of repelling the heat of the sun on a warm day. these garments are worn almost continually by certain classes, among them the vaqueros, or riders of the pampas. that of the latter consists of two blankets sewed together, one of a dark blue color and the other of a bright red. these hues are universally selected for a purpose, as they receive light and heat differently, and are used so as to afford the best results. thus in dark and cloudy days the dark side of the blanket is turned outward; on other days this is reversed. the double blanket thus formed is quite two yards square, with a hole in the center to admit the head of the owner. its purpose is two-fold, to protect the rider from the heavy dews and showers of the tropics, and to spread under him at night when there is no place to sling up his hammock. but the effect of this linen _manta_ worn by these street fighters was even better than that of the woolen _cobija_ of the vaqueros. these _mantas_ worn by this twain were fancifully embroidered, and showed that they were expensive garments. at a distance they would present a striking, picturesque appearance. our heroes found it difficult to get near enough to obtain a view of the stirring scene in the little opening made by the encircling on-lookers, and, caring little for the affair, anyway, quietly retreated. then, the alarm having been spread, no doubt, the soldiers began to appear in sight, and a squad led by an orderly started in to disperse the crowd. but the spectators seemed too earnest to be easily driven off, while the soldiers themselves quickly became so interested in the contest that they tried little more than to get a good look at the tableau. "i never saw a venezuelan yet who didn't relish a good fight," remarked jack. "but look there, jack!" exclaimed ronie. "what is going on that way?" as ronie pointed toward the rear of the building already mentioned, jack saw half a dozen loungers hanging along in a manner suspiciously like a row of loafers, and not in knots, as men of this kind usually congregate. "see! two of them are helping away a woman. why, jack! it is the prisoner, señora de caprian! she is trying to escape." in a moment the whole situation was plain to them. the brawl and fight was simply a ruse to catch the attention of the soldiers while the captive woman made her escape. so cleverly had it been carried out so far, that it was likely to succeed beyond the most sanguine expectation. ronie glanced hurriedly around to see that the orderly and his men were in the thickest of the mob, oblivious of all except the hand-to-hand tussle. another minute and the captive would be beyond recapture, except, possibly, after a long chase. his first thought was that of gladness for the unfortunate woman, then he remembered that there was another side to the question, and that it might be well to retain her as a prisoner of war. he decided quickly upon his course of action; whether it was right or wrong must be proven in the future. chapter xviii. ronie receives a commission. "she must not be allowed to escape, jack!" exclaimed ronie. "i heard colonel marchand say that she knows secrets which it would not be well for his enemies to learn." "ay, lad; it is not too late for us to stop them." without further delay the twain sprang forward, and were in season to intercept the fugitives. as they brought their firearms to bear upon the men who had constituted themselves señora de caprian's escort, ronie cried, sharply: "stand where you are!" the woman uttered a cry of dismay at this command, while the men suddenly stopped, facing the determined americans with frightened looks. "let me pass, señors, i implore you," begged the prisoner, the tears springing to her eyes, while she clasped her hands and turned upon them such looks of agony as haunted them for many a day. ronie, at least, felt that he had committed an act which he should regret, and it is possible if the opportunity had remained when he could have allowed her to escape with safety, he might have done it. but the die was cast, and there was no retreat. the loud, authoritative words had aroused others. the soldiers were suddenly recalled to their duty, while the sight of the fugitive and their captors quickly caught the attention of the newcomers upon the scene, foremost among these being colonel marchand! he instantly comprehended the situation, and a look of admiration for the prompt deed lightened the bronze upon his cheeks, while he said: "by the soul of bolivar! you have done well, señors. soldiers, secure the prisoner immediately, and see that her liberators are taken into custody." "i hope there will be no cause for us to regret what we have done, colonel," said ronie, who really felt sorry for the prisoner. "you may cut off my right hand if you do, señor rand. at present it is necessary that we hold the woman as a prisoner of war, but she shall be well treated, and i have no doubt be set free soon." ronie knew colonel marchand was a man of his word, and he felt better over what he and jack bad done. this pleasure was further increased by the words of the colonel as they accompanied him to his headquarters. "this will prove a good day's work for you, ronie. i only regret i had not been able to report it to general castro when i sent my dispatch, but better late than never. what do you say to going with us on our campaign toward maracaibo? we start within an hour. the rebels are rallying in that direction, and we must look after them before they become too strong." the fact that it was likely to take them nearer to harrie, if not quite to san carlos, was enough to shape their decision, and inside of an hour they were mounted and riding with the troops toward the west, ronie getting his first taste of warfare. the days that followed would never be forgotten by our american soldiers in the service of venezuela. colonel marchand seemed to be always on the move, but the enemy was even more active than he, and always kept one scene ahead of him. for instance, he left the little hamlet where ronie and jack joined his forces to go to another country town called verona, where it was reported the insurgents had made a raid. upon reaching this settlement, which was little more than a collection of coffee planters' conical dwellings, it was ascertained that the enemies had been gone a few hours, and that they were headed toward juan. hither, posthaste, dashed the venezuelan cavalry, resolved to be in season this time, only to find that again the bird had flown. but castro's troops were led by a captain who had the name of never sleeping, and once more he followed on their heels. then he learned they had gone back to verona! thus two weeks were spent in vain advances and retreats, swift dashes ahead and equally as rapid doubling upon the track, until we finally find the grimy riders halted near the rim of a little plain which formed the foot of a mountain range trending away toward the more lofty peaks making the highest elevations of land in the western world. as may be imagined, the doughty colonel was in no enviable mood, as he sat by the door of his tent, whose roof was the bended sky. it was one of those inns found at those outposts between the agricultural and pastoral regions. the men were busy getting the evening meal, which was to be made up largely of a fat bullock killed a few minutes before. evidence had been witnessed where the insurgents had broken into a herd that very day and slaughtered several of the best beeves. this killing of cattle was characteristic of venezuelan warfare. the ragged troops of the revolutionists must be fed, and what easier way to do it? ronie and jack, who had ridden until they were tired and sore, were attending to their tough ponies before spreading their ponchos over the stony spot which they had cleared of the rank vegetation so as to prepare their couch for the night, as there were no posts upon which to hang their hammocks, when a messenger informed them that colonel marchand wished to see them immediately. at a loss to know what this order could mean, they lost no time in answering the summons. they found the colonel, usually so genial, very much out of humor. at first ronie feared that he had done something to arouse this uncommon state of mind on the part of his superior. "sergeant rand," greeted the colonel, brusquely, giving our hero a title quite unexpected to him, "i have sent for you to see if your yankee ingenuity and courage cannot help me out of this difficulty." "i am at your service, colonel," replied ronie, with a military salute, "and i am sure my friend here is equally as faithful." "ay, ay, colonel marchand; where ronie rand leads i----" "sergeant rand, if you please, señor greenland," interrupted the officer. "i will now explain what i want of you." though taken somewhat aback by this greeting, our twain bowed and waited respectfully for the other to explain. "in the first place," began the colonel, "i need not tell you how i have been buffeted about for the last ten days. it has set my teeth on edge. on every hand my scouts have been baffled by these scoundrels of the bush, who make a farce of war and style themselves 'sons of liberty!' word comes in that they are everywhere successful, and that castro is discouraged. i know better than the last. he is not that kind of a man. but enough of that. what i want of you is simply this: take as many men with you as you wish, and reconnoiter the country as far as you think best, and report to me as often as possible. are you willing to undertake this hazardous mission?" "i am willing to do my duty, colonel marchand." "ay, ay, colonel," added jack. "spoken like true soldiers. i know i can depend on you. now name the number of men you want to go with you, and i will have them detailed at once. remember you are to have command of the squad, with your friend as deputy." "i assure you, colonel, we appreciate the honor. i think three men will be sufficient. a small body of men can go where a large one would be likely to attract attention." "good! my scouts dare not stir out of their hammocks without an army is at their heels. how soon can you be ready to report, sergeant?" "in half an hour, colonel." "thank you, sergeant. that will give me time to detain [transcriber's note: detail?] the men, and i will see that you have the best in the regiment. by the way, sergeant, i wish to say that i have received as yet no reply from general castro, but i probably shall before you get back. i would also add that i expect to move to baracoa in the morning, where i shall await news from you." "well, jack, what do you think of this?" asked ronie, as soon as they had left the presence of colonel marchand. "looks as if we were going to taste of real warfare," replied jack. "i can't say that i am sorry, for as long as we cannot go ahead with our work it will serve to break the monotony." "if i only knew that mother was safely at home, and harrie was with us, i really think i should enjoy it. if there was only some way i could get a letter sent to her, i would write to mother in new york, hit or miss." "perhaps the colonel will have a chance to get it to the capital," suggested jack. "if you want to write it, i will see that everything is got in readiness for our start." "you are very kind. i think i will do it. it will certainly do no harm." so ronie wrote his letter to his mother, describing briefly his recent experiences, and speaking particularly of the portrait he had picked up. he had to make his letter short, for he not only prepared that, but he ate a hasty meal, which jack had prepared, and with his faithful companion presented himself at the commander's tent in exactly half an hour. "i am glad to find you so punctual," remarked the colonel. "yes, i will send your letter along at the first opportunity. here are the men who are to accompany you. i wish you success, but i do not believe i need to caution you to move cautiously. you have been here long enough to know something of the character of these bush rebels." in this brusque manner colonel marchand saw them depart, though he did not return to his papers until they had disappeared beyond the line of forest vegetation which encircled the clearing in the shadows of the mountains. his eye trained upon the spot where he had last seen them after they had vanished for several minutes, he finally turned back, saying, under his breath: "i hope i shall not be disappointed in them as i have the others who have gone before them." chapter xix. the scout in the jungle. riding at a leisurely pace, the five scouts started upon their dangerous quest, ronie and one of the venezuelans riding side by side, with jack and another behind them, leaving the single man to follow. the young sergeant was pleased to find that the trio selected to accompany him by colonel marchand were very prepossessing men, one of them a man with gray hair, while the others were but a little over twenty years of age. the oldest, whose name was riva baez, claimed he knew the country well, so it was he who rode beside our hero to show the way. "about ten kilometers to the west we shall strike the main road to truxillo," he remarked. "but it may be well for us to avoid that. el capitan and his followers are believed to be hovering around the foothills between here and barquisimete. it is a country just suited to ambuscade and concealment." "how far is it to the nearest town?" "less than five kilometers. it is a small town called caro." "is it held by the insurgents?" "no, though it bears the marks of one of their raids. the people have been left too poor to be either feared or sought for." "we need not go there?" "about a kilometer this side we can strike a mountain road leading into the wild country." "where we are likely to find el capitan and his insurgents?" "_si_, sergeant rand." "then that is our course, señor. show us the way." nothing further was said until possibly three miles had been passed, when riva baez drew rein. the road they had taken soon after leaving the encampment of the troops, by this time had sort of "dwindled away," as jack put it, until it was now little more than a cattle path. the country ahead was thinly populated, if settled at all. the guide of the little party was the first to speak: "if we follow this course half a kilometer farther we shall come out upon the road leading to caro, which winds down from the mountains. beyond, the country is infested with the insurgents, and we are likely to run upon them at every turn. if we keep on through caro we shall soon come into the lower country, where we shall find a string of towns along the way, but the people, as a rule, unfriendly to us. if we bend to the left here we shall be able to make a short cut over the spur of the ridge and reach the region of maracaibo without much risk of stirring up el capitan's hornets. which way shall we go, sergeant?" "our purpose is to learn all we can of the enemy," replied ronie. "according to your account, we shall learn very little of them by keeping to the left. neither are we especially anxious just at present to seek towns in the lower country. but we will go to caro first." "_si_, sergeant rand," and without longer delay riva baez led the march forward again. owing to the unfavorable conditions of the route, they had advanced slowly, and it was now past midnight. the moonbeams tipped the treetops with a silvery halo, but underneath this foliage it was so dark that our riders had to pick their way with constant caution, lest they should run into some trap of nature or set by the hand of an enemy that claimed this country as his own. nothing to cause them actual alarm, however, took place, and after a while riva declared they were close down to caro, which he described as lying in a narrow valley through which wound one of the numerous mountain streams watering the country. upon receiving this intelligence, ronie called a halt, and after a short consultation with his guide and jack, he decided to enter the town alone with the former, leaving the others to await their return, unless called by a signal agreed upon. with this understanding he and the guide rode cautiously forward, the road overhung with the dense vegetation springing from a rich soil under most favoring conditions of the atmosphere. a ride of less than five minutes, even at a slow pace, brought the two scouts in sight of the little hamlet made tip of coffee planters' homes. at that time the silence of sleep lay upon the place, no sound of night breaking the gentle murmur of the river flowing parallel with the road. near the edge of the first plantation ronie motioned for his companion to stop, when he slipped from the saddle to the ground. "i am going to make a little exploration alone," he whispered. "do you remain here with the horses. i will not be gone over ten minutes. if i am, you may understand that i am in trouble, and act at your own discretion." "look sharp, señors," warned riva baez. "no one seems to be astir, but, for all that, one of el capitan's sharpshooters may be lying in wait to shoot you down like a jaguar." "i have had a bit of experience among the igorrotes of luzon," replied ronie, "and you can count upon me not running headlong into an ambush. what a beautiful night it is," he could not refrain from adding. "if you think this is delightful, sergeant, you ought to witness a night on the orinoco in the great rubber country of the south." without making any reply to this, ronie stole silently forward upon foot, soon finding himself in the midst of the beehive homes of the small coffee planters. but not a soul seemed to occupy the primitive dwellings without doors or windows, but left free for the passage of the night breeze. "it is singular no one should be awake," he mused, "but the houses appear to be as deserted as if they had never been occupied. there is a mystery about this i do not understand. i am inclined to risk my chances and enter one of them. i will if they all prove to look as empty as these." with these thoughts in his mind he moved stealthily along past hut after hut, reached by avenues bordered by stately, flowering plants of tropical brightness and verdure. but everywhere he went prevailed the utter loneliness and emptiness which had first struck him as so unusual. finally, satisfied in his own mind regarding the actual situation, he ventured to enter one of the dwellings, though not without extreme caution. he crept along under cover of a row of broad-leafed guamos bearing pods eight or ten inches in length, which were filled with rows of black beans enveloped in a pulp of snowy whiteness and agreeable sweetness. but if these facts had been known to the young scout at this time they would certainly have been unheeded by him, as he made his stealthy advance. he was aware that the time for his return to riva baez was nearly passed, but he disliked to return until the mystery of the silent town had been solved. so he continued his advance until at last he stood on the earth floor under the thatched roof, where the complete silence of undisturbed repose reigned. the conviction which had at first forced itself upon him had before this become a settled fact. the dwelling was entirely deserted. not only was this the case with the hut he had entered, but it was true of all the others. caro was an abandoned town! anxious now to return to his companions with the intelligence, he lost no further time in retracing his steps, but he had barely gained the road when he was aware of the approach of a horse! ay, listening a moment, he was certain there were two of them. knowing it was necessary for him to be on the alert for enemies, he drew back into the mass of plants and waited until he should obtain a good view of the riders who were abroad, half expecting one of them to be riva baez. he was rewarded a moment later by the sight of his guide, who had become uneasy and had come in search of him. a signal from him attracted the venezuelan's attention, and he showed unfeigned delight at finding his leader so quickly. riva baez expressed little surprise when ronie told him that caro was a deserted settlement, though he could offer no satisfactory explanation for the fact. "el capitan may have taken them all captives, or butchered them in cold blood." "there is nothing to show that violence has been done them. the huts are simply deserted, just as if the owners had been called suddenly away for a brief absence." "true, sergeant rand. shall we stop here a while or push on toward the next place?" "we have no time to waste at this stage of action," replied the energetic young american. "let's move on into the country of the insurgents. we can learn nothing by keeping away from them. the day will soon be breaking." "_si_, sergeant; i am at your command. we will climb the hill back of us, and then turn to the right. at the top of the hill i think a call will bring our comrades." "the safer call is to go to them. i will wait on the hill while you are gone." from the vantage he had gained where he waited for his companions to rejoin him, ronie obtained a wide sweep of the surrounding country, a view he knew was likely to prove of great value to him in his future actions. he could not follow, even in the pale light of the western moon, which was beginning to lose its glory before the coming of the new light on the eastern horizon, the trend of the mountain ranges as he had not been able to do before. he was really in the region of a distinct offshoot of mountains from those that lead away from the greatest mountain chain on the globe, the mighty andes. the mountain system which crosses venezuela in this district is an offset from the eastern cordillera, and runs down to the caribbean sea in irregular conformity with the eastern shore of the lake of maracaibo. from this chain the venezuelan system of two ranges, running almost side by side, extends toward the east, the most northerly branch, which follows quite closely to the seashore culminating in the island of trinidad. as he looked down upon it in the still morning atmosphere, the whole panorama of country appeared like a solid mass of forest, uneven, it is true, but unbroken by the hand of man. the intense silence which had hung over deserted caro was intensified here, so that it became oppressive. ronie could not fully throw off this spirit of utter loneliness which weighed down his very soul, so that he exclaimed involuntarily, in an undertone: "strange i should feel so impressed that something wrong is going to happen. somehow, i cannot shake off the impression that i stand in the presence of a power that portends me mortal danger." he had only partially succeeded in overcoming this passing weakness when he hailed with delight the reappearance of his companions, and the five then moved ahead with their accustomed caution. half an hour later, when the light of the new day was beginning to penetrate the tropical foliage with growing brightness, they were still slowly moving along the narrow way, overhung by tall, graceful trees, adorned at their tops with brilliant flowers, when the silence of the scene was suddenly broken by a loud rifle shot. it was, in fact, two reports blending into one, for two bullets cleft the air; with a swift, hissing sound. one of these struck the horse ridden by riva baez, and the poor animal reared suddenly into the air, and snorted with pain and terror. the other bullet cut away a lock of hair from the temple of ronie, and for an instant he was stunned by the force of the shot. chapter xx. adventures and surprises. while riva baez was struggling with his wounded horse, whose sudden plunge had nearly unseated him, ronie was also active, but in quite another manner. the flash of the shots from the treetops had not sent out its blaze of lurid light before he had discovered a pair of dark forms crouching in the foliage overhead, and the double report had not died away before he had covered one of these with his rifle, his clear, ringing voice exclaiming: "hold, there! move an inch, and i will send a bullet through your head!" immediately cries of fright were uttered by the twain in their lofty ambush, but neither man offered to move. the companions of ronie and riva baez, who had fallen behind a little, startled by these shots and outcries, now dashed hurriedly upon the scene. "cover the other rebel up there with your mauser, jack," commanded ronie. "do not hesitate to fire if he dares to lift a finger." jack quickly comprehended the situation, and no sooner had his youthful commander spoken than he took swift aim at the trembling wretch in the tree, saying, loud enough for the victim to hear: "ay, sergeant; i glory in such shooting!" by this time riva had succeeded in quieting his horse, which had not received a fatal wound, and the veteran scout was ready to do his part in the exciting drama. "stand at the foot of the tree to receive them, boys," ordered ronie. "i am going to invite them to join us. their company may be more desirable than we think." then, addressing the twain above, he continued in the best spanish he could command: "come down, señors, as quickly as may be." "spare our lives, señor!" begged the one whom the young american had selected as his victim. "upon the condition that you surrender peacefully. as proof that you mean what you profess, please drop your weapons down to my men." without delay, the couple dropped their mausers, which were caught by the young venezuelans. "if you have any other firearms, kindly let them down, we have more use for them than you." this demand was followed by two braces of heavy pistols, followed by a couple of ugly-looking knives. "any more such playthings?" asked ronie. "no, señor. we have no more weapons, unless you call this rope such." "let that down, too. it will come in handy in a few minutes. you were very thoughtful to take it along with you." the stout hempen rope was next thrown to the ground, after which the terrified sharpshooters waited for the succeeding order. "now, come down yourselves. don't waste any powder, boys, if they are foolish enough to think of trying to run away." "ay, sergeant, trust us for that," replied jack. ronie soon had the satisfaction of seeing the two cringing before him like a couple of curs about to receive a whipping. one of them was evidently a half-breed, while his companion, who had done the talking so far, showed more of spanish blood. "you have been caught in an ugly game, señors," said ronie, whereupon both bowed, the spokesman saying: "do not shoot us, señor americano. if you will spare our lives, we will fight for you." "a pretty mess you'd make of it. you were scouts for el capitan?" "_si, señor_." "you mistook us for castro's soldiers?" "_si, señor_. we could not see very plain, and we thought you were only two." "which made your shooting more justifiable, i suppose. seeing you are such poor marksmen, we will forgive you, providing you will answer my questions." "_si, señor_." "where is el capitan?" "at morova." "how far is that from here?" "four kilometers, señor." "what is he doing there?" "waiting for reinforcements." "what does he need reinforcements for?" "to whip the dogs of castro." "no doubt he needs them. but are there any of castro's soldiers in this vicinity?" "_si, señor_, at baracoa." this bit of information caused ronie to resume his questioning with greater interest, for he knew this referred to colonel marchand's regiment. "how many men has el capitan under him?' "five thousand, señor." "beware, señor, for i know now you lie." "he will have, señor, before he reaches valencia." "so he is headed in that way?" "_si, señor_." "what i want to know is, how many men has he now? be careful, for another lie will send your cringing souls to purgatory. how many men has el capitan now?" "spare me, señor! i do not lie. el capitan has about two hundred with him now, but he expects more soon." "do you mean to say he has two hundred at morova?" "señor misunderstood me. he will have two hundred as soon as calveras reaches him with his troops." "dog!" cried ronie, looking as fierce as he could, while he threatened to resort to violence then and there, "you are trying to cheat me. i asked you how many soldiers el capitan has at morova." "fifty, señor," and the frightened wretch and his companion seemed about to collapse. "that is all now," declared the young sergeant. "secure them, men, at once." nothing loath, his companions began to carry out his order, jack assisting riva baez in binding the spokesman of the twain. while they were doing this, the former heard the sound of paper crumpled in the prisoner's pocket. thrusting his hand into the receptacle, he quickly drew forth two soiled and wrinkled missives. "what have we here?" he asked. "as i live, here is a dispatch for colonel marchand from general castro," handing, as he spoke, the paper to ronie. then, his eye falling upon the well-known envelope and stamp of his own country, he exclaimed: "a letter for you, ronie; and from new york!" if honest jack greenland had unconsciously committed a breach of good respect in thus addressing a superior, ronie did not heed it, while he took the crumpled missive handed him, his own hand trembling and a mist coming over his eyes at this unexpected communication from his native land. this mist deepened and his hand shook more violently, as he murmured, after glancing at its superscription: "it is from mother, jack!" it was fortunate for the reputation of our hero that his companions were attentive to their duty, or the prisoners might have eluded their captors. but he was certainly excusable for his temporary lack of discretion. the finding of this letter from his mother, under the circumstances and condition of affairs, was enough to rob him of his usual presence of mind. while the others completed their tasks, he examined the missive, to find that it had already been opened. with blurred sight, he ran hastily over its closely-written page, saying, when he finished: "it is as i expected. mother was to leave new york soon after writing this, to meet me in caracas. this was directed in the care of colonel marchand, and has been forwarded through the courtesy of general castro to the colonel. she is here in this country, and in trouble, as i have feared." "let us hope it is nothing serious," said jack. "at least, we can only hope for the best until we are able to learn more and do more. has the dispatch to colonel marchand been opened?" "excuse me, jack, for forgetting my duty. it must be duty before personal afflictions, i suppose. yes, this has been opened. in that case, it will do no harm for me to read it, particularly as i may learn something to guide us in our work. it says," he continued, while he scanned the document, "that general castro has been elected president of the republic for a term of six years. it says also that a body of his troops have been defeated at barquismoto by the insurgents; that the _libertador_ has fixed on and sunk a venezuelan ship named _crespo_ off cumarebo, and that matos has succeeded in landing twenty thousand rifles and two million cartridges at trinidad. "now i come to news that interests us more. general castro has sent to san carlos demanding that harrie be set at liberty immediately. that is good news indeed. but he goes on to say that he cannot set francisco free until his case has had an investigation. well, this has proved to be a pretty fortunate capture." "a newsy one, certainly, and not all of it bad news, by any means. shall we take these fellows along with us, sergeant?" "pardon me, jack, i must be more mindful of my duty. yes, i suppose we shall have to do so. it is also necessary that one of us return to colonel marchand with all haste possible, apprising him of what we have done, and to take him this dispatch from the general. while you are arranging for one of the boys to undertake this duty, i will write a few words to the colonel." then ronie prepared his first war dispatch, succinctly describing what he had done and discovered. by the time he had finished this jack had got one of the younger venezuelans in readiness for his journey back to the regiment. though he was loath to trust these important messages with this scout, ronie felt that he could not do any better. he could not very well spare jack or riva baez. then, too, the latter vouched for the honesty and capability of the other, so he saw him depart with full confidence that the arduous duty would be performed faithfully. the hands of the prisoners having been securely bound behind them, they were ordered to march in front of jack and the younger venezuelan, while ronie and riva baez rode in front. in this manner the journey was resumed, though continued but a short time. it was now getting to be sunrise, and riva having a friend in that vicinity, it was deemed best to stop there for a while--at least, long enough for the animals to recuperate. the plantation of this man proved to be a huge farm of many thousand acres, but much of it valueless on account of the revolutionary state of the country. he was at home, and as soon as he learned the character of his visitors from his old friend riva, he extended a most cordial greeting to them, promising to do everything in his power to assist them. the sight of the prisoners pleased him hugely, for he was a most pronounced admirer and supporter of castro, and he quickly placed the two spies in quarters from which they could not escape without help. "how is it," asked ronie, "that you keep from being molested by the insurgents, when you are situated in the heart of the debatable ground?" "the reason is simply because i can muster a force that can outwhip any army of curs that el capitan can muster," he replied, rather vaingloriously. "oh, they have tried it, sergeant rand, but i have routed them like a band of monkeys, and i can do it again." our little party fared sumptuously at the hands of this rather pompous venezuelan, whose name was don isadora casimiro, and so they could find no fault if he was a bit boastful and radical in his ideas. he insisted that they remain with him during the day, showing the advantage they would gain by waiting until nightfall before starting out. as much as ronie disliked this inactivity, he believed it was wisest to do so. during the day the news was brought in by one of don isadora's scouts that el capitan was mustering his forces to march on san carlos with the purpose of liberating el mocho. as soon as the shadows of night began to fall, ronie prepared to start anew on his expedition, jack and the two venezuelans accompanying him, the prisoners being left in care of the followers of don isadora. the ride for half an hour continued through an archway of trees growing on the plantation of their host, when riva declared that they had reached the limit of his broad domains. they soon after entered a valley, the hoof-strokes of their horses muffled by the soft, spongy earth. it must have been nearly midnight, for they had ridden several miles up and down the country without discovering any trace of the enemy, when riva, who was slightly ahead of the others, abruptly paused in his advance. ronie quickly gained his side, where he stopped to learn the cause of this unexpected halt. it required no words on the part of the guide to explain his action, as he mutely pointed with his right hand to a ravine, or gorge, running parallel with the road. the sound of human voices came up distinctly to the ears of ronie. handing the rein of his horse to his companion, he silently dismounted, and crept toward the brink of the chasm overhanging the place. in a moment the light of a camp-fire struggled dimly upward through the thick foliage, while with the sound of voices came the noise and confusion of a body of men moving about. "i believe it is an encampment of el capitan," he whispered to jack, who had joined him. "i have a mind to get a little closer." "i need not tell you to be careful," said jack. "can i go with you?" "i do not believe you had better, jack. i will not be gone long. from the sounds, i judge the party below are about to start on some midnight raid." before he had finished speaking, ronie began to lower himself down the descent, moving with such care that he made no noise. the bank did not prove to be perpendicular, but its smooth side sloped gently away to its foot, and covered as it was with rank vegetation, ronie had little difficulty in descending, except that at places the matted mass of growth was so dense that he could penetrate it only after persistent effort. at the end of five minutes he found himself so near the bottom that his next step was upon the thatched roof of one of the primitive buildings that seemed to form a row on this side. chapter xxi. "the mountain lion." the sight which met ronie's gaze was one of wildness bordering upon grandness. its wildness consisted of a body of armed troops drawn up in front of the rude building, a mob of untamable savages, as the spectator from a civilized country must have judged them. they were half clad, poorly fed, as shown by their emaciated visages, and armed mainly with the rude implements that the uncivilized use. this wild aspect of the scene was given the touch of a certain grandeur by the sublime attention this motley throng paid to him who stood upon a slightly-raised dais addressing them at this moment. this speaker was a man of stalwart figure, with a countenance naturally dark, bronzed by long exposure to the tropic sun, and flashing eye that could look without flinching upon the midday sun or upon the wildest rabble that ever gathered under the shadows of the land of revolutions. his speech was uttered in a manner and tongue in keeping with the man and the scene. ronie could not understand all of the fierce language which seemed to have partaken of the mountain boldness and flowed from the lips of the orator like a torrent springing from its fountain head amid the rugged fastness of its native gorge, but he understood enough to catch the import of this stimulating harangue. he knew the man was el capitan, and he was evidently resuming a speech which, for some reason, had been temporarily broken. "soldiers of freedom," he was saying, "the time for action has come. you have rallied bravely at my call, and now i am ready to lead you to battle and victory! our path is clearly marked. to-night let us teach that braggart, don isadora, that he is not a little king; that he cannot longer defy el capitan! from the smoking ruins of his estate we will sweep downward like a torrent from the mountain, and like a torrent we will gather volume as we sweep along. a trail of devastated plantations shall mark our course wherever the foolhardy defy us, and above the ruins of the smaller towns shall rise the captured columns of valencia, la guayra, caracas--ay, caracas! when the capital shall be ours, then will we make laws that lift the poor man into his just deserts, while the lawless rich shall feel the spur of oppression as his meeted judgment. then shall the name of el capitan stand beside that of crespo, the mountain lion!" as might have been expected, this bombastic speech was frequently interrupted with wild applause, especially when the orator compared himself to the late president of the republic. in one respect, at least, the harangue of el capitan was apt. crespo, like himself, was of humble birth and very large of stature. whether he would equal the ex-president in other ways remained to be seen. crespo was the idol of his brave followers, who were a dashing, picturesque soldiery, that the inhabitants of venezuela looked upon very much as the parisians must have looked with awe upon napoleon's mamelukes. the story of this venezuelan conqueror is a most interesting one. following the rule of three or four presidents and dictators who succeeded the noted blancos[ ]--there were two of these, father and son--were three or four presidents and dictators whose main object seemed to be to rob the government of all the money they could, and then flee from the country. such proceedings gave the right man an excuse and an opportunity to rebel. this man was general crespo, who with seven hundred followers set out to conquer the country. you have read history, know how the ambitious pizarro, in the stormy days of conquest following the discovery of america by columbus, overthrew the empire of the incas with a handful of followers--only thirteen at the start. crespo did better than that, for with only seven men he made himself president of a country more than twice as large as spain and portugal together, while i am glad to be able to say there was less of bloodshed and far less of inhuman sacrifice of innocent lives than in the case of the conqueror of the incas. i cannot refrain from giving the following story as typical of the man: his half-wild followers needed arms, and there was no manufactory to replenish them. in this extremity, when almost any other leader must have faltered, crespo gave the order for his men to strip their bodies naked to the belt, and cover them with a liberal coating of grease. in this shape they were to charge upon an encampment of the enemy numbering more than six to one. this was to be done under cover of darkness, and as they ran through the camp each man was to hold his left hand straight out from his body. if it came in contact with a man wearing a shirt he was to overpower him and seize his firearms. if the body was like his own, he was to know it was a friend, and to keep on. in this wild, impressive manner less than three hundred half-naked men, armed only with their short knives, routed and disarmed over three thousand troops, comprising the flower of the government's army. it will be noticed that el capitan's appeal was personal rather than patriotic. like many another venezuelan revolutionist, he was fighting for selfish purposes, but his barbaric followers did not stop to consider this. some one, with a memory of other days, asked concerning the liberation of el mocho, when el capitan replied: "el mocho is not to be trusted," meaning, no doubt, in his mind that he did not propose to give such a dangerous rival opportunity to be in his way. ronie felt that he had learned enough to show him his path of duty. every moment was precious if he would warn don isadora of his peril, and he had no desire to leave the well-meaning don to the hands of this mountain outlaw. so he at once began his ascent of the bluff, which he found extremely difficult. but he accomplished the feat in safety, to find jack and the venezuelans anxiously awaiting him. a few words sufficed to explain the situation to them, when they heartily agreed with him that it was best for them to hasten to the plantation of the don as quickly as possible. "i judge from what i heard while i was leaving my perch that el capitan is expecting another body of his followers to join him this side of don isadora's. this division comes from the way of san carlos. if it is half as large as the force now under him he will lead a formidable army against the don." "a mere rabble," said riva. "don isadora has some trained soldiers under him." by this time the four were riding silently away, being careful to move as cautiously as they could. riva again led the way, but ronie and jack were close behind him, while the younger venezuelan kept as near to them as he could. in this manner the return journey to the don's plantation was speedily made, and without being discovered by the enemy. as may be expected, the wealthy planter was profuse in his thanks for the information they gave him, and he began to prepare for the enemy at once, with a confidence in his ability to defeat the other that was sublime. as much as ronie would have liked to remain and see the outcome of the affair, he felt it was his duty to start immediately to find colonel marchand. don isadora seemed to understand that it was the proper course for the scouts to pursue, so he offered no objections. as our little party rode out of the grounds, having left their prisoners under the don's care, they saw that he had mustered his entire forces, numbering fully a hundred men, all of whom were armed with mausers, pistols and short knives. "el capitan will be the one surprised this time," remarked ronie to his companions. "i really wish we could stay and see the fun." little did any one of the quartet dream of the amount of "fun" in warlike earnest that he was to take part in before they should get beyond the don's big estate. [ ] bolivar the "liberator" was followed by others who managed the affairs of venezuela very satisfactorily, until in two political parties formed. these were styled the "liberals" and the "conservatives," and trouble increased swiftly. in guzman blanco became the head of the stronger party, holding his sway until , when he was succeeded by a rival. in less than ten years, however, his son came to the front, and, more powerful than his father, he made himself president, with all the prerogatives of a dictator. this office he held until , when crespo became president. still the hold of blanco was not broken, and two years later he reassumed the reins of government, but in his successor was defeated, and he suffered a loss of his good name. in fact, a complete change of heart for the family which had been dominant in affairs for over thirty years followed. his name was stripped from one of the states where it had been placed, and the public statues he had caused to be erected were torn down, and much of the really good work he had done was destroyed. but these radical denunciations could not remove the name of the pompous leader from the historic pages of venezuela, and it is well to be so, for with all his shortcomings he did much for the rising republic, though his stalwart figure is the landmark of a stormy period.--author. chapter xxii. a fight with the guerrillas. our scouts had gone about a mile, and ronie was riding slightly in advance, when he became aware of the approach of a body of horsemen coming at a leisurely trot. in a moment he signaled for his companions to stop. "we cannot avoid meeting them," he said, "and no doubt they are a part of el capitan's army. we have started too late to escape them. is there any path turning off from the road that we can turn into, riva?" "none, señor." "then we must turn aside here. quick! push your horses back into the forest, making as little noise and disturbance as you can." they were so successful in this work that before the approaching riders had come into sight they were all safely ambushed where they could peer out upon the passers-by without being seen, except by some scrutinizing eye. ronie and jack sat in their saddles, side by side, while riva and his companion were only slightly removed. as the sound of the horsemen indicated their close proximity, our hero parted the bushes enough to enable him to obtain a good view of the road. "if our horses will only keep quiet," he began, "there is a----" ronie's attention, in the midst of his speech, had become fastened upon the foremost of the approaching riders, so his companions never knew what he was about to say. nor did he speak until the horsemen were within half a dozen yards of them. the body of men were riding two and two, and what had arrested his eyes was the sight of the nearest rider in the lead. "it must be--it is harrie!" he whispered. "ay, lad!" responded jack, who had been watching as eagerly and closely as his companion. "he is lashed upon the horse, and his hands tied behind him. what does it mean?" jack had no time to reply, but the situation was plain to both. the horsemen were a portion of el capitan's followers, and were on their way to attack the don. could they stand idle there and see harrie taken to some fate they could not understand? ronie's impetuous temperament would not permit it. he believed a sudden attack, a few shots, and the unsuspecting enemy could be routed, and their friend rescued. jack must have been revolving the same daring scheme in his mind, for at this critical moment he nudged ronie, whispering: "ready when you say the word, sergeant." our hero spoke hastily to riva and his companion, who quickly comprehended what was wanted of them. then the clear command of the young sergeant broke the stillness of the lonely scene: "ready, men, fire!" in the twinkling of an eye the flashes of the mausers lightened the night, and three of the leading riders reeled in their seats, while sudden commotion took place among the others. "forward--charge!" thundered ronie, setting the example by dashing furiously from his covert. "look sharp, harrie; we are here to save you." the animal bestridden by the young engineer began to snort and plunge excitedly, but ronie was soon at its bit. his comrades were as swiftly charging upon the surprised insurgents, who, no doubt thinking they had been attacked by superior numbers, broke and retreated in wild disorder. "give them a parting shot, lads!" cried jack, who, in his adventurous career had led more than one regiment upon an enemy. the mausers spoke right merrily, the reports mingling with the yells of the discomfited rebels, who fled down the road as fast as they could make their steeds go. in the midst of this rout and confusion ronie freed harrie, but he had barely accomplished this before the thunder of horses' hoofs down the road suddenly increased in volume, and loud shouts reached their ears. the clatter of retreating horses abruptly stopped, and it was apparent to the scouts that the insurgents had come to a stand. "el capitan is on the road," declared ronie. "he is rallying his men. come on, boys! we can do no better than to return to the don's. ha! who comes here? halt! who comes?" "a friend from don isadora," was the prompt reply. "word came to him of a party of rebels taking an american prisoner to el capitan, and he sent me to warn you." "in good time, señor. we have saved our friend. hark! yonder riders are el capitan's hornets. back to the estate, and we will go with you." there being no need of silence now, the six horsemen rode back to the estate at a furious gait, the messenger going ahead when they had nearly reached the avenue leading to the building, so as to inform the don of the approach of friends. he hailed them with hearty gladness, but quickly prepared to meet the expected onset of the enemy. ronie and his companions having decided to lend their assistance to the defenders of the estate, harrie asked for a rifle, that he might join his friends. this was soon forthcoming, and while they waited for the attack of the mountain rabble he found opportunity to say to ronie: "i don't know how glad i am to see you, for i have supposed you were drowned on the night we started to escape from the _libertador_. how is it i find you here?" "it is a long story, harrie. i will tell it at the first opportunity. jack and i have seen our share of excitement, and it looks as if it wasn't over yet. did you escape from the prison at san carlos?" "not through my own efforts. an order came from general castro for me to be set at liberty. this was done, and a small escort started with me to find the regiment of colonel marchand. only think he is somewhere in this vicinity. we were surprised by a body of rebels, who put my guard to rout and made me a prisoner. i do not know what would have become of me if you had not rescued me as you did. hark! the foes are coming!" it was a part of the don's plan to hold back his men, and not to fire upon the enemy until they should come into close quarters, so no response was given to the shouts and shots of the oncoming horde, whose leader expected to carry everything before him by storm. a tempest of lead followed his command to attack, but not a man was injured on the estate. thinking that an easy victory lay before him, el capitan then ordered his men to the double-quick. don isadora proved that he had had some military experience, as his men were not only all well armed, but they stood coolly at bay waiting for his word to open the fight on their part. even ronie began to get impatient before his stentorian voice cried: "now, men, mow them down like grass--fire!" the entire side of the estate toward the road was illuminated by a sheet of flame as his followers obeyed the sharp command, and it was like mowing a swath through grass to see how the motley mob led by the "mountain lion" went down. the roar of rifles was followed by wild shouts and shrieks of pain, while those who had escaped the deadly fire beat a hasty retreat. "follow them up, men!" cried the don, but he had barely uttered the order before a bullet from a stray shot hit him, and staggering back, he fell into the arms of jack greenland, while he murmured: "i am a dead man!" it was a sad occurrence. the moment the venezuelans found their leader had fallen, confusion and disorder reigned. "is he fatally hurt?" asked ronie, anxiously, as jack bent over him. "i cannot tell yet, sergeant. the wound is bleeding profusely. some of you help me get him where i can examine him more closely. is there a surgeon about the place?" no one seemed to know. but half a dozen lusty fellows lifted the wounded don and bore him into the house, while others stared after them in complete dismay. "el capitan is rallying," said ronie. "it's too bad for us to be in this condition. he will sweep the place, now the don has fallen." "why not take the lead, ronie?" asked harrie. "some one must, or we are all lost." "i am not sure they would follow me. here comes señor riva." "sergeant rand, don isadora begs me to tell you that he is better, but is not able to lead his men. he beseeches of you to do this." there was no opportunity for hesitation. el capitan was already advancing for his second attack. "help me rally them, riva, and i will do it," replied ronie. swiftly the word was carried along the ranks, when new life was enthused into the men, who were really brave fellows. the young sergeant decided that prompt action would be the most successful, and to meet el capitan halfway would show him that the forces on the plantation were alive to the situation. so the word for an advance was passed along the line. it met with a hearty response, and as ronie sprang forward with his rousing command he found himself supported by a determined force. "open fire--charge!" the volley of shots was succeeded by loud cheers from the venezuelans, who bounded forward under the lead of their gallant champion. "forward!" cried sergeant rand. harrie was close behind him, and so was riva baez, all three having dismounted from their horses as soon as returning to the estate. a random volley from the rebels answered their first fire, and at the second, in spite of all that the mountain chief could do, his followers fled in wild disorder, disappearing from the scene with a rapidity that was surprising. that night, at the very outset of his campaign, el capitan received his first defeat. chapter xxiii. the news at la guayra. great rejoicing reigned at the plantation of don isadora following the complete rout of the enemy, and this joy was increased by the fact that the don had not received a fatal wound. in fact, it was believed with careful nursing he would soon be about again. as he deserved, ronie was the hero of the occasion, while his friends shared with him the praise showered upon them by one and all. as soon as the news of the victory had been carried to the master of the estate he sent for our hero, and was lavish in his commendation, declaring that he had been instrumental in saving them all from the brutal clutches of el capitan. but, as pleasant as all this hearty applauding was, ronie was glad to break away from his admirers in order to be alone with harrie and jack. he and the former had much to say, all of which was listened to with sincere interest by the latter. harrie explained how he and francisco had drifted about in their boat, looking in vain for their companions until daylight, when they had sighted land, and gone ashore. soon after, they were captured and thrown into prison, as ronie knew. then came the unexpected release, the journey to find colonel marchand, the capture by el capitan's followers, and the rescue by his friends, which seemed the most miraculous part of his adventures. ronie, in turn, told what had befallen jack and himself, saying in conclusion: "there is only one thing more that troubles me. if i knew mother was safe i could bear this troublesome waiting without murmuring. but i am afraid some fearful fate has overtaken her. i shall not rest until i know the truth." "you know i am with you, ronie," said harrie. "ay, lad; you can count on old jack greenland to stand by you both, through thick and thin." "god bless you, jack!" exclaimed ronie, clasping one hand, while harrie seized the other, echoing the words of his friend: "god bless you, jack; a nobler soul never lived." when the three had hastily reviewed the troubles they had passed through they decided unanimously to return to colonel marchand with such haste as was consistent with safety. they had important intelligence to bear, beside the fact that el capitan was upon his track. under the changed circumstances, they decided to take the captives with them, and of course riva and his friend would keep along. while the don was very loath to see them depart, he knew it was their duty to go, and so he offered to send an escort of fifty men to conduct them on their way as far as might be deemed necessary. at first thought, ronie felt like declining this, but he finally asked for an escort of ten men, who went with them until noon of the second day, when they turned back and the scouts kept on, reaching the encampment of the venezuelan regiment that night in safety. i need not describe the reception accorded our heroes by the impetuous colonel, any more than i need dwell upon the scenes that followed. the campaign had now opened in deadly earnest, and weeks of great activity and considerable fighting and skirmishing ensued. el capitan rallying after a few days from his discomfiture at isadora sought in every way to disconcert and capture the doughty venezuelan regiment. in his efforts he was encouraged on every hand by the reports of the success of the insurgents in almost every section. first intelligence came of the capture of a town on the island of margarita by the audacious cruiser _bolivar_, erstwhile the _libertador_, and earlier the _ban righ_. close upon this, castro's troops under castillo were defeated near san antonio. in may, reports of insurrections came in from every quarter. castro suppressed two newspapers which had become pronounced against him, and in his lack of sufficient funds to carry on the war, levied a million bolivars from the widow of guzman blanco, the former president. then the revolution broke out in the state of bolivar, and after five days' fighting the president of the state was driven out of the capital. in june general matos, encouraged by the success of his followers, announced a provincial government, with himself as president. this bit of news reached colonel marchand at the close of a warm day's fight with his old-time enemy, el capitan. as usual, it had been a draw game, and the colonel was sitting in his hammock feeling in anything but an amiable mood. "by the soul of bolivar!" he exclaimed, slapping his knee by way of emphasis, "he is like a ground mole, that runs for its hole the moment an enemy is in sight. i wish we might meet a foe worthy of our steel. orderly, send for sergeant rand at once." ronie was with his friends, discussing the outcome of the recent meeting with the enemy, and deliberating upon their own fortunes since they had become comrades under castro, when this order was given him. "i wonder what this means?" he exclaimed. "say to colonel marchand i will report at once." upon reaching the officer, the young sergeant found that he was anxious to send a message to president castro, and at the same time to reconnoiter the country between them and the capital. "castro must take the field himself," declared our hero, in the course of the conversation. "if this growth of the insurgents is allowed to continue much longer his cause will become hopeless." "by the soul of bolivar! you are right, sergeant rand, and it is just what i want you to say to castro himself. you can do it and not offend him, while i could not. you will go to him at once, taking as many men as you choose. i have only to instruct you to start as soon as may be." "it shall be as you say, colonel. i desire to have only three companions, señor riva baez and my countrymen, harrie mannering and jack greenland." "as you say, sergeant. here are the dispatches i wish you to hand to president castro personally." handing this package to our hero, the colonel offered no further delay. with feelings akin to gladness, ronie returned to his expectant companions. "i hail it as good news," he said. "we are to meet the 'little captain,' president castro, with what haste we can. i say we, for i have the honor of being selected by colonel marchand to choose such companions as i wish and hasten to the capital. you know whom i select." ronie was really pleased with this commission, as it would enable him to enter a wider range of inquiry concerning his mother than he had been situated to do so far. thoughts of her were last in his mind as he lay down to rest after a day's campaigning and the first to arouse him in the morning. "poor mother! how i pity you, and wish that i knew where you are!" within an hour the little party was ready to start, deciding to go by the way of la guayra, which they reached without adventure, this old-fashioned spanish town is the chief seaport of venezuela, as well as the entrance way to the capital, situated about five miles inland behind the series of mountain peaks whose chain runs down to the very edge of the water. our young engineers did not fail to notice, as they looked out over the harbor, the close affinity to the same cerulean hue that touched both sea and sky, so it was difficult to tell where they met on the horizon, and blended like a curtain of the same soft texture. under the reflections the vessels appeared to rest flat on the mirror-like surface, in the words of the poet: "like a painted ship upon a painted sea." the most conspicuous spot about la guayra is the little fortress made famous by charles kingsley, in his "westward ho," as the prison house of his heroine, the rose of devon. this was the residence of the spanish governors in the days when venezuela was a dependency of spain. past this ancient point of defense against attacks from the sea and the winds lead those three ways of travel to the capital, aptly illustrating the changes of centuries; first, but of least importance now, the mule path worn no doubt by the natives in their passages back and forth; second, the wagon track, cut, it may be, when the continent was young; and finally, that iron-banded course of modern construction, the railroad. caracas is embowered among the mountains three thousand feet above the streets of la guayra. their arrival was soon after the bombardment of macuto by venezuelan ships on account of an outbreak there. as this place was near to la guayra, great excitement was prevailing in the latter place. in fact, the inhabitants everywhere were in an uproar. news came that general riera, who, it will be remembered, was a passenger on the _libertador_ when our heroes were on that vessel, had captured la vela de coro, while the insurgents had also captured barquisemoto, and riera had sacked coro, the capital of the state of falcon. our party did not continue their journey to the capital, on account of the fact that castro was toward barcelona, where the revolution had become centered. with this bit of news came a rumor which, if it bore but a light bearing on the international contention focused on venezuela, awakened an anxious interest on the part of ronie rand and his friends. riva baez first learned of it from a native who had come down from the mountainous districts. this man said an american woman was held by the insurgents as a hostage of war. he could not give the name of the woman, but believed she had not been long in the country. "it is mother!" exclaimed ronie, as riva related the story to him. "i must see this man at once." "i am sorry, señor, but he disappeared before i started to find you. knowing how you would feel about it, and not being able to find you at once, i went to speak to him again, fearing he would slip away. he was gone, and no one could tell me where he had left for. i believe he is a spy." "do you not know of some one who saw him?" "i will see what i can learn, sergeant rand." "thank you, riva. meanwhile, the rest of us will do a little looking around. describe the fellow as minutely as possible." this riva did, with the graphic speech peculiar to him, and then the four went out to look for the missing man. in the midst of this unsuccessful search ronie learned that castro had returned to la guayra. chapter xxiv. interview with general castro. a soldier's first duty is always to obey his superior in command. upon hearing of general castro's return to la guayra, ronie immediately abandoned his search, leaving his companions to carry it on, while he sought the president. he found him without difficulty, for he was already besieged with callers. but our hero had only to send in his passport from colonel marchand to receive an urgent request to come at once. he was a little disappointed in the personal appearance of the man who had become so prominent in the affairs, and whose name he had heard spoken more often than any dozen others since he had come to venezuela. he was below medium height, of rather slight build, and moved with a limp in one limb, caused by a wound he had received in battle. his eye was the feature which bespoke most the man, and as ronie stood before him he seemed to read him at a glance. "sergeant rand," he greeted, in a hearty manner, which quickly won the american boy's friendship, "i welcome you gladly to la guayra. colonel marchand sends his message by you?" "here are your dispatches, general castro. i trust they will prove valuable to you." "be seated, sergeant, while i read them." ten minutes of silence followed, during which ronie had ample time to study the man before him, who seemed absorbed in the written messages just placed in his hands. then he laid the last one down, and said: "if i am not mistaken, you are the young american the colonel spoke of in such laudable terms in his last. it seems by what he says now that you have not let your reputation suffer by more recent conduct. it was your friend i sent to have liberated from the penitentiary at san carlos, was it not?" "it was, general." "is he in la guayra?" "he is." "i wish he had come with you, for i am heartily glad to meet two such allies in a time when the whole world seems against me. forgive me for saying that, as i would not have you think i distrust your own republic. but tell me of what you have seen in the west, sergeant rand. i am glad to get such information as i believe you can give me of the hotbed of rebellion in my poor country. take your time, and do not be afraid to speak of yourself." then ronie described such portions of the events that had come under his observation as he thought the other would be pleased to hear, referring to himself very modestly, while general castro listened with great interest, now and then asking some question or expressing admiration at the conduct of colonel marchand and his regiment. he was especially pleased with the rout given el capitan at the estate of don isadora, and he made ronie describe the affair so minutely that he was forced to speak of the part he had taken. "i have heard nothing so pleasing," said the president. "you shall be rewarded for your gallant conduct. i am again saying that i am sorry this friend, or these american friends of yours, did not accompany you here. i will send for them." "i am afraid you will not find them readily, as they are in search of a man in la guayra that we want to find very much." then he hastened to add: "but this is a personal matter, general castro, and you will pardon me for introducing it to you. i did not intend to." "what concerns my comrades, concerns me," cried castro, with possibly more vehemence than he had intended. "tell me all about it, sergeant rand." thus urged, ronie explained what he knew in regard to his mother, the president listening attentively to every word. when he had finished, the latter said: "sergeant, this is a grave matter. to say nothing of my feelings for you, i cannot afford to let this affair escape my notice. it might easily be construed to mean an offense against your government. have you communicated with minister bowen?" "no, general castro." "i should advise you to do so as early as may be. but in the meantime we will leave no stone unturned to find her." "you are very kind, general. what would you suggest that we do first?" "find the man who had her photograph, and make him tell all he knows." "i have regretted, general, that we did not return and do that." "you were hardly prepared to do it, as i understand your condition." "true, general castro. we were glad to escape with our lives, and we have been kept escaping ever since." "you have proved lively enough in the race. you spoke of that young de caprian. what do you know of him?" "i believe he is as true a patriot as you have in venezuela," replied ronie, boldly. "i would not let anybody else say that," declared castro, frankly. "you think i have misjudged the man, sergeant rand?" "perhaps i ought not to say it, but he appeared honest to us." "you would like to see him set free?" "not if he is an enemy to your government, general castro." "i understand. when you go to san carlos to get your man i will send by you the papers which shall give him his freedom. i will try him a while, and if he proves faithful his mother shall be given her liberty. i have given orders to see that she is given all the privileges possible under the circumstances. i have been very much interested in your intelligence, sergeant rand, and i trust i shall meet your friends when you come again." taking this as a hint that the interview was ended, ronie saluted in military style, and was in the act of withdrawing when castro said: "sergeant, i wish to ask you a question, and trust you will answer it in the same good faith in which it is asked. what do you believe would be the most effective thing for me to do toward quelling this rebellion in the vicinity from which you have come?" the answer to be made came as quick as a flash into ronie's mind, and without stopping to consider how it might sound expressed in so many words, he said: "take the field yourself, general castro!" if this reply suited him or not, the president did not show it by the look upon his features, as he said, simply: "good-day, sergeant rand." while in doubt as to the effect his words would have upon the energetic president of the republic, ronie was pleased in a large measure with his interview. he regretted that harrie was not with him, and he resolved that the next time he would not go alone. upon second thought, he could not see that there would be any occasion for him to call again. then he drove these thoughts from his mind, and thinking of his mother and what her fate might be, he began to look anxiously for his companions. about half an hour later he found his friends, but they had to report a failure in regard to finding the unknown man they had hoped to find. riva baez, as well as harrie and jack, listened with interest to ronie's account of his meeting with general castro. "i have faith to believe he will help us find your mother," said harrie, "and with his assistance we cannot fail." "unless we are too late," replied ronie. "i cannot bear this inactivity." "i have always found it good policy to 'make haste slowly,'" declared jack, quoting an old saw. "meanwhile let us see how castro takes to your advice, sergeant." "to think that i should have dared to speak in that way," said ronie, who feared he had overstepped his position so far as to incur the displeasure of his superior. but he was speedily disarmed of this fear, for the following day general castro came out with a proclamation in which he defined his purpose of taking the field personally, and of leading the campaign in the west. an hour later a summons came for our three americans to visit the commander, and they met with a welcome that proved the president had only the kindliest feelings toward them. they were urged to accompany his army, and were only barred from being offered a commission from the fact that general castro did not wish to curtail any of the liberties they might have if they were not regularly attached to his forces. "you can go as far as valencia with me, and from thence i will send you an escort to san carlos, so you may find your man if you can, and also see that young de caprian is given his liberty. to prove my good faith with him, i will hold a commission for him, if he wishes to accept it." thanking the general for the kindly interest in them, our three withdrew, certain that at last something definite was being done. the next day the entire force moved toward valencia, and they accompanied the venezuelans, riva also going along. the week that followed was one of great activity; but very little was accomplished that seemed to forward matters with the impatient ronie and his friends. leaving castro's army at valencia, they reached san carlos to find that the bird they were after had flown. as near as they could learn, he had disappeared the morning our heroes had been driven away, and that he had not been seen since he had taken them across the bay in the boat. it was currently believed that he had either been shot or drowned. in this way was lost what might have proved an important clew in their search for ronie's mother. their disappointment was brightened somewhat by the joy with which francisco hailed his liberty. he embraced his american friends, and showered upon them praises for their action in his behalf. when he was told about his mother, he grew less demonstrative, but learning that she was unharmed, with a promise of good protection, he recovered exuberance of spirits. "i shall accept any commission general castro will bestow upon me," he said, "and i will show him my fealty to him and the true government of my country. i am impatient to see him." knowing nothing could be gained by remaining longer at san carlos, our heroes returned to the army at once. having learned that he had removed to ocumare, they headed thither, learning all along the way that the insurgents were everywhere successful, until it seemed as if the government was doomed. these accounts were rendered more hopeless to the cause by the fact that before they could reach him, castro had begun his retreat toward caracas. in the face of this, he issued his decree of amnesty to all insurgents laying down arms within forty days. "unless he makes some more decided stand and wins a decided victory to offset all this noise on the other side, castro will have no government for them to lay down their arms to," said jack, grimly. "of course it isn't my dish that's cooking, but i feel just like saying so much." "general castro will act decisively when the time comes, according to his idea," said ronie. in the midst of this uncertainty word reached them from la guayra that the cables were to be cut, and that minister bowen had sent to washington for warships. castro's next movement was to take charge of his troops at guaicaipuro, and to establish his government there. then followed the week's battle with the insurgents led by mendoza at la gloria, which was to prove the turning point in the war. colonel marchand's regiment of volunteers was there, and in the thickest of the fight our heroes had ample opportunity to prove the metal of which american soldiers are made. it was a bitter fight, the more trying as it was made with bush-fighters--scattered bodies of men who fought after the style of the north american indians, from behind trees, or whatever cover was at hand. fortunately, our friends escaped without a scratch, though colonel marchand received an ugly wound that was likely to drive him from the field for a time. his was not the only regiment that covered itself with glory, for there was another, led by a boyish captain, who seemed everywhere in the thickest of the fight. this little band gained the high-water mark of the battle, and it was that more than any other which turned the tide of the struggle and made of la victoria a victory indeed. the name of that gallant leader, who received special mention in the list of honor, was francisco de caprian. general castro had no longer any reason to doubt his loyalty to venezuela, and the president greeted him with the promise that his conduct had chased away the shadows upon his family name. the result of this victory for the government at la victoria was such that matos, the head of the insurgents, gave up active command, while castro prepared for a triumphal return to caracas. chapter xxv. the spy of caracas. immediately after the victory at la victoria our three americans were forced to part with francisco, who was to return to the capital with general castro, while they were called to don isadora's estate, the owner thinking he had got on the track of a clew to the whereabouts of mrs. rand. the don received them with open arms, he having fully recovered from the effects of his wounds, but the errand proved fruitless, and they felt obliged to abandon the quest in this vicinity. so they again found themselves in la guayra. but their stay here was short. ronie was anxious to get to caracas, that he might consult with mr. bowen, to see if nothing could be done by him toward finding his mother. general castro was also to join with him, and altogether he felt very hopeful, though aware that his mother might be beyond his power of help before this. but he was a brave youth, and he resolved to do all he could and hope for the best. it has been said that the capital of venezuela, while only five miles inland from its port, la guayra, is situated in the mountains, three thousand feet above the seashore. the railroad which connects the two coils about this rugged ascent like a steel lariat thrown by a dextrous hand, now winding in and out where some bottomless abyss is encircled like a huge letter u upon the landscape, or anon clinging upon the rim of some sharp-pointed rock, where the same train creeps around the angle, showing mortal fear by its snail-like pace. another has aptly compared it to a spider's thread strung from crag to crag. time and again the engineer can look back from his cab into the windows of the rear coach, while between him and the object of his gaze yawns a rock-walled well hundreds of feet in depth. the young engineers were standing on the rear platform, watching with admiring gaze the wild scene stretching away from their feet. "isn't it grand, magnificent!" exclaimed harrie. "i never saw its equal. did ever you, jack?" "nothing to surpass it, lad; not even the alpine pass of the colorado. where can one find a grander combination of sea, plain, valley and mountain? and whoever saw a greener plain on a bluer sea?" "or a sky quite as serene," added harrie. ronie was fain to agree with his enthusiastic companions, while they admired together the rugged panorama falling away from them to the foothills trending from the base of the mountain like the huge roots of some great tree which had burst from their imprisonment in the earth and stood out as the bold supports of the mighty burden they upheld. between these ridges, or leaping from their gnarled sides in silvery cascades, numerous streams of water made bright bands on the background of gray and dark green. below the mountains, groves of royal palms, standing with park-like regularity and so far apart that their white trunks shone like pillars cased in silver foil, were to be seen. out from among these gleamed the white and yellow roofs of the cottages of the people. beyond these glistened the white line of breakers, forever coming and forever going, leaving only a chalk mark to tell where they have been but will never be again. outside of this lay old ocean, throbbing under the hot, fierce tropical sun like a hunted creature panting to get its breath, but never resting. still up, up, crept the iron conqueror, until it broke the veil of mist in cloudland, up where the trees were jeweled with dewdrops and the track reeked with the wine of the sky. at one place they could look down into three thousand feet of space, and soon after their sight was gladdened by the view of the valley on the other side and the thrice welcome sight of caracas. again they were pleased by the happy blending of art and nature, the beautiful country, the basin under its stupendous rim, the city marked by the towers of its numerous churches, the dazzling roofs of public buildings, the regular streets lined with picturesque cottages, the gardens of white houses of the coffee planters, and beyond more mountains. caracas was founded by diego de losada in , and named the "city of santiago de leon de caracas." the picturesque valley which forms its site was the capital of the heroic tribe of natives known as "the people of caracas," which name was very appropriately given to the capital of the race which after two hundred years of warfare succeeded in annihilating the original owners of the soil. this long struggle against the stronger power by the weaker forms one of the most glorious pages in south american history, and scintillates with deeds of heroism and human sacrifice. now the ascent has been made, they find that the city is overlooked by mountains smooth and bare of trees, but covered with a light-green sward, except where some stream affords a band of a darker tint. the clouds seem of more than northern fleeciness, and hang over the peaks like smoke, or float lazily from valley to valley, giving varying hues to the beautiful landscape. the climate is delightful; the first impressions of the capital pleasing. caracas has a population of about eighty thousand, it being the usage that only one family shall occupy a house. it is a city of culture and fashion, of public statues to scholars and artists, as well as warriors, for not all of the history of this interesting republic is filled with war. while a land of hotheaded people, whose career has been largely filled with riots and revolutions, here and there are to be found evidences of a high civilization, producing marked contracts of the rival forces of man. what struck our energetic american as unexpected was the air of repose which rested upon the scene, giving little hint of the excitement reigning outside. slowly along the streets, as if there was no occasion for haste, moved trains of mules bearing on their backs bags of coffee, or quite enveloped under huge bales of fodder, which had the appearance at a distance of some huge, lifeless bulk upon legs. then there were bodies of foot soldiers, wearing blue uniforms with scarlet trousers and facings, also moving with a deliberation which at least bespoke their importance. this sight was enlivened by the appearance of an open fiacre whirled along the street by a pair of small but fiery horses, driven by a coachman from his high box seat, the gold trimmings to his hat and coat rivaled for brightness by the ornaments on his top boots. evidently the carriage bore some person of importance in haste to his destination. the cause of this undue haste, as well as the disturbance of the equanimity of this everyday sight, was explained by the sounds of another party approaching. then, as the travelers upon the streets moved with unaccustomed celerity to one side, a body of men mounted upon high-stepping horses, strikingly caparisoned and carefully groomed, appeared in sight, the riders presenting a bold effect in their uniforms of white duck and high black boots. "the president's bodyguard," said ronie. "general castro and his troops have returned, and we have got here just in the nick of time." "there is the general riding in the center," declared harrie. "how the people are cheering him! it cannot be that they knew of his coming so soon. shall we follow them?" "perhaps we might as well," said ronie. "i suppose francisco is in the train somewhere. ay, look, boys! there he comes. doesn't he look fine? he has the natural military bearing of his race. well, i am glad of his good fortune." with these words ronie began to move along with the crowd which had quickly collected, and cheering lustily began to surge ahead in the direction taken by the martial train that now moved along the street farther than they could look. it was not long before they found themselves surrounded by a jostling, but good-natured, mob, each member of which seemed determined to keep in sight of the marching column. the band had now begun to play, and as the strains of martial music filled the air, ronie rand was conscious of hearing a voice muttering in a deep, sullen tone: "curses upon him! his triumph shall be short. soon shall the sons of----" the rest, if spoken aloud, and the words given seemed to have been uttered involuntarily, were lost to our hero, but he caught his breath at what he had heard. it was not the import of the words, but the tone of the speaker which caused such emotion that he could constrain himself with difficulty from trying to break through the mob and find him. it was the voice of manuel marlin, of san carlos! so satisfied was ronie of this fact that he immediately tried to push his way forward so as to reach the man, whispering for his companions to follow. but people in a crowd like that give away slowly, when they can, and when ronie had reached the spot where the other must have been at that time he was missing. nor could he find any trace of him. "i am sure it was he," he said to harrie and jack, as soon as he explained his sudden action. "but he has slipped away from me." "let's keep along. he will doubtless follow the throng," said harrie. so they moved with the spectators toward the most notable building in caracas, the federal palace, which is built around a great square overflowing with flowers and fountains, and lighted by swinging electric lights. the palace is lightly built, and though painted in imitation of stone, looks like an airy castle which might be blown over at the next flaw of wind. it is profusely ornamented with statues made either of plaster of paris or of wood painted so as to imitate marble. if this gives the building an unstable appearance and given over to frivolous amusements, it is in keeping with its environments, the high-colored walls and open fronts of the adjoining buildings that help to fill this american paris, and it is by all odds the handsomest building in the city. and, rather than given over to scenes of frivolity and mimic life, here are the chambers of the two branches of legislature, the different offices of the department of state, and the reception hall of the president, in which is the national portrait gallery. the dome of this chamber, which is two hundred feet in length, and bears many pictures of warlike scenes, is painted with a panorama of life-size figures depicting the last battle of the venezuelans against the spaniards. it is really a work of artistic merit. so, altogether, the federal palace is a building of substantial business, and it has played an important part in the shifting affairs of the republic. to guzman blanco, more than all others, does the city owe these public buildings. these were originally convents or monasteries, until guzman overthrew the power of the church. the federal palace was one of these church buildings, so was the present opera house and the university. all of them seem well located for their new uses, and go to show that the church must have had a strong hold on the wealth of the capital before this daring adventurer overcame them. anxious to get sight of this spy, if possible, ronie and harrie did not try to get in so as to witness the president's reception, though jack did so, in the hope that he might find the man if he should dare to remain with the crowd. but the rest of the day passed, however, without bringing success to them, and the two young engineers were standing near the entrance to one of those cathedrals which form such an important portion of the buildings of the capital. they had barely gained a position where they could watch the comers and goers without being noticed themselves, when they were glad to see captain francisco de caprian approaching, with their old-time friend, jack greenland. naturally, the countenance of the first was radiant with joyous excitement. "it has been a great day for caracas," he said. "president castro has reason to be proud of it, as nothing has happened to mar its perfect harmony. yet there is a rumor afloat--i know not how it got started--that there is a secret enemy in the capital, a spy, waiting for a favorable chance to strike a deadly blow at the hero himself." "i suppose efforts will be made to capture him?" said ronie. "be assured of that. a handsome reward is offered. oh, they will get him, soon or late." then a sigh escaped the lips of the handsome young officer, and he murmured to himself rather than to his companions: "i would, dear father, you might have been spared to witness this day, for i believe you would have rejoiced with the rest of us." then, suddenly remembering his companions, he said: "forgive me, señors, but to me these very shadows of this building are sacred. it was here, in the last revolution, my dear father, with nine others, made their final stand and fought so good a fight that it was found necessary to build a fire in the tower and smoke them out with the fumes of sulphur. ay, it was a desperate test for the ten," said francisco, while his dark eyes lighted with an intense light and his thin hand quivered spasmodically. "did your father and his friends perish?" asked harrie and ronie, both deeply interested in this simple narrative. "it was their only alternative, señors, for to yield meant death and torture. father, let it be said to his credit, gave his companions opportunity to surrender; but, let it be said to their credit, they stood bravely together. then, their last shot spent, and the fumes of the drug rapidly overpowering them, they threw themselves from the tower into the street. it is said they went downward to their fate with clasped hands. i am glad i did not witness the sad sight. but i believe a brighter day is dawning for poor venezuela, and that her brave defenders did not give their lives in vain." our three friends were deeply touched with this pathetic story, related in such gentle tones as to make it seem like some sweet vision rather than one of grim war's bitter sacrifices. looking beyond their heroic companion, they were struck with the peacefulness of their environments, so well in accord with the manner of the speaker, all tending to soften the tragic interest of the scene of warlike and heroic action. where the ill-fated band of patriots, the last to make a stand at that time, must have fallen, ran the sunken rails of the tram cars, and in sight were the notion shops and confectionery stores, where laughing, prattling children were wont to come to find the simple toys and playthings to amuse them. at nighttime electric lights illuminated with their dazzling splendor the now peaceful scene, while seekers of religious promises wended their way softly in and out of the old cathedral. "i am afraid i have made you sad, señors, when there is so much to make one happy. but i forgot that this is not for you, and that your heart is heavy, señor rand, over the fate of your poor mother. let us hope you, too, may soon find your cup of joy full to overflowing." "have you heard how colonel marchand is?" asked harrie, seeing that ronie did not feel like replying to their friend. "he is likely to recover, but his campaigning is doubtless over until some time in the future. come, señors, i shall insist that you stop with me to-night, and it is time you seek rest." chapter xxvi. "it is manuel marlin!" it was a beautiful morning, that which followed, and our friends were astir early. wandering out upon the streets, eager to learn if any new tidings had come of the spy, they soon found themselves walking under the refreshing shade of rows of ornamental trees. in following this course, they came somewhat abruptly upon a plaza floored for a wide space with rare mosaics, and lit at night by swinging electric lights. "this is the plaza de bolivar," said jack, "a favorite place for the president's band to come and play. see, there is the statue of the republic's hero." ronie and harrie had already discovered an equestrian statue, mounted upon a heavy pedestal, while the rider held with one hand a straightened rein on his refractory steed, and with the other he pointed his sword high into the air, as if he would pierce some imaginary enemy stationed in space. it was a bizarre affair, the weather-stained image of a horse rearing into the air after the fashion of some huge rocking-horse. from the bold figure of man and steed their gaze dropped to the base, where they saw in raised letters the name of simon bolivar, the liberator of venezuela. instinctively, our americans uncovered their heads out of respect to the memory of the man who was not only a great warrior, but a notable statesman, and a poet of considerable merit. his proclamations to the armies are examples of masterly eloquence, and as much to be admired as his military genius, which won for him the applause of the five republics that he liberated. the statue of bolivar is in bronze, and is considered one of the most notable examples of modern art. when his young companions had tired of looking at the equestrian figure of the warrior, jack said: "now come with me, lads, and i will show you a sight worth two of this to you and me." without reply, ronie and harrie followed their friend until they came upon a delightfully retired retreat, which, without the bizarre attractions of the plaza bolivar, had a freshness and quiet beauty the other lacked. anticipating now what they were to meet, to our young americans there was indeed an air of sanctity and hallowed peace that the more ornate spot did not possess. with reverential steps they moved silently but swiftly along the clean, graveled path bordered with deep, green grass and overhung with interlacing branches of the trees which formed a roof over their heads, until they reached the center of the plot, where the torrid sun of the tropics beat down upon the head of the statue they had come to see. this was the plaza washington, and the man honored here was the american patriot, the father of his country, who had been given this honored recognition in the capital of the united states of venezuela. uncovering their heads, the three stood for several minutes in a silence that seemed too sacred to be broken, while they looked upon the calm, benign features of washington, honored thus by a race they had not expected would pay such homage. at that very moment, unobserved by them, a couple of natives a little way off, at the uncovering of their heads, removed their wide-brimmed headgear, and looked on with respectful attention. farther removed, a group of women, dark-eyed, dark-featured, but not unpleasant of countenance, also paused in their morning work to watch the newcomers with respectful admiration rather than curiosity. evidently these people understood and shared with these strangers from a far-away land this spirit of national pride and patriotism, for true patriots always revere the memory of heroes. "isn't it strange washington should be given a statue here?" asked harrie. "not so very strange," replied jack, "when you come to think that the histories of the two countries are so nearly alike, up to the day of these two heroes, they might be written by the same historian with slight modifications. bolivar was the washington of venezuela. then, too, you will remember that miranda, the pioneer of patriots in this country, served his apprenticeship under washington, fighting for our country. when he had finished there he returned to his native land to take up her battles. what he learned with our army helped him here. "bolivar had no small task on his hand when he undertook to free five republics, and who conquered a territory nearly half as great as europe. "it is a common practice for the inhabitants here to strew their garlands of flowers about this place, and once i remember, upon a holiday, coming here, to find the statue of washington, pedestal and base, literally decked with floral wreaths. never, it seemed to me, not even in our own land, did the noble countenance of washington look grander than here, surrounded by a race that did not speak his language, but whose hearts beat as patriotically, as if they understood every word." "it was a happy thought that they should have sculptured him as a man of peace rather than of war," said ronie. "it is more happy in its effect, as i look upon him, than the warlike figure of bolivar." "very true; at least, from our standpoint. while they did well to select this phase of his character, no doubt it thrills their hot veins more to look on the defiant form of their beloved leader. what i have said of the two men was truth, but similarity stops there. bolivar had very much of the savage wildness about him, and he was reckless, headstrong, and sometimes foolhardy. but his career was a grand one, as viewed by his countrymen. it was filled with bold, cunning, victorious marches. his valley forge was the torrid jungles and sun-swept plains of a tropical clime; his delaware, filled with floating ice, to be crossed in mid-winter, the broken mountain pass, or the pathless swamp filled with deadly malaria. like our washington, he came of a distinguished family, and he was educated in europe for the court and camp. but, if educated abroad, his love for his native land never failed, and venezuela never had a truer son, or a more valiant fighter for her natural rights. "ay, lads, his campaigns were filled with such stupendous feats of activity and accomplishment as few have ever equaled. starting on the seacoast near pallao, with his foot soldiers and rude cavalry mounted on mule back, he crossed the continent. the perils of mountain-climbing and the hardships of the jungle were met and overcome by his indomitable followers, inspired by his glowing example, living much of the time on berries and roots, sleeping at night upon the ground, to free in turn venezuela, colombia, ecuador and bolivia; then, sweeping down the pacific coast, to finally overthrow the empire of peru. he was a young man filled with the love of freedom and the fire of ambition. so little was his heroism appreciated by those whom he thus met that time and again he was forced to meet the assassin, only to find himself deserted at last by those whom he had looked upon and rewarded as friends. so he died alone, of heartaches over the ingratitude of a people he had led out of bondage. but to-day tardy justice makes him, as he deserved to be, the hero of five republics." "why should his countrymen, after all he had done for them, strip him of his honors and leave him forlorn and disappointed?" asked ronie. "it was owing largely to the inborn fickleness of people of a tropical clime. two charges, one directly opposed to the other, were brought against him. one party claimed, after having rid them of kings, he tried to make a dictator of himself, with power more absolute than that of those he had deposed. the other said it was because, upon his followers asking him to accept such power, he declined and went into voluntary exile at santa marta. be that as it may, it was nearly twenty years after his death before there was one bold enough to give him the place in public opinion that he deserved. he caused an artist to design a statue that should perpetuate his memory. "now we come to see how closely the history of this country is blended with our own. on the neck of the statue the artist placed a miniature in the form of a medallion which the family of washington had given bolivar. on the reverse of this was a lock of washington's hair, with the inscription: "'this portrait of the founder of liberty in north america is presented by his adopted son to him who has acquired equal glory in south america.' "you will notice that none of the insignias of honors showered upon him in his hours of triumph by different countries have been retained by the artist, this portrait of the father of our country having been the only ornament it was deemed he would have cared for, as in life he was prouder of this than all else. so you see, the busts and statues of the liberator bear only this tribute, while those of his followers are decked with glittering ornaments." "i have read of a very pretty story connected with its presentation," said harrie. "it was during the time of lafayette's visit to our country in . a banquet was given in his honor and the memory of washington by congress. in the midst of the rejoicings and tributes paid to the venerable visitor, henry clay arose to say that, while they were enjoying the fruits of independence, the grand institutions founded by their patriotic forefathers, there were those in the southern continent who were fighting as valiantly for liberty, with less hope of ultimate victory. continuing to wax eloquent, the great orator said: "'no nation, no generous lafayette, has come to their succor; alone, and without aid, they have sustained their glorious cause, trusting to its justice, and with the assistance only of their bravery, their deserts and their andes--and one man, simon bolivar, the washington of south america.' "there was wild cheering then, while men sprang to their feet and clapped their hands. then lafayette, the generous, asked that he might send the southern hero some token of their sympathy and appreciation of his valor. the result was, lafayette sent bolivar the portrait of washington, and it proved a gift the young patriot of the southland revered, while his people grew to admire and cherish it." "true, my lad, and this spirit has spread so that you will see pictures of washington wherever you go. now it is a portrait; then the american army crossing the wintry delaware, under its beloved leader; or, the war over and victory's mantle of peace spread over the land, he stands before the door at mount vernon. you find squares and public houses named after washington, with numerous other testimonials of him, all of which seems very pretty to the visitor from the north." while jack had been speaking, his gaze had become turned in an opposite direction to where the figure of a man was to be seen skulking in the thicket of flowers. harrie and ronie had already discovered the suspicious person, but had understood that he would flee at the slightest indication that he had been seen. thus, before jack had finished his speech, ronie began to retrace his steps, with apparent carelessness, in the direction of a row of yellow, blue and pink houses, with high, barred windows, from which peeped shyly dark-eyed, swarthy-skinned women. but the moment he had passed beyond the range of the concealed man's eyes, he darted into the shrubbery so as to intercept the man should he try to escape by flight. the wisdom of this action was apparent when jack and harrie started toward the spot, when he fled precipitately. this flight, however, took him right into the path of ronie, who quickly covered him with his pistol, at the same time ordering him to stop, which he did with trembling limbs, to begin to beg for his life. a good square look at him revealed his identity to ronie, who exclaimed to his companions: "come quick, boys! it is the spy, manuel marlin!" chapter xxvii. good news. ronie did not have to repeat his call, for almost before he had finished the last word harrie and jack were beside him. it was then but the work of a moment to disarm the terrified fellow, when he was ordered to march in front of them to the headquarters of the army. then he fell upon his knees, actually too weak to stand up longer, and with clasped hands and white face, begged for his life. "spare me, señors! i am not a spy, but if you take me before the officers of castro they will condemn me without a trial and i shall be shot! spare me, i beg of you." his pathetic supplications touched the hearts of his young captors, but they did not feel it would be right to let him go. "if you are innocent you can prove it," said ronie. "i know you are in sympathy with the insurgents, but i promise you shall have a fair opportunity to prove your innocence of being a spy if you are not one." during these words of ronie he bent a closer look upon him, and he suddenly recognized our hero as one of the couple who had saved him from the jaguar. he saw that jack was another of his captors. "i remember you, señors," he said. "you saved my life, but it would have been better for me to have been eaten by the jaguar than to fall into the hands of castro. i will tell you something, señor, that will be worth more to you than my miserable life if you will let me go." "it is of my mother!" exclaimed ronie. "you had her photograph. tell me where she is." "if you will spare my life." "i am a soldier under castro; you know a soldier's duty, señor." "i thought you were one of us," he murmured. "but i am going to tell all i know. she was taken prisoner by some of el capitan's men. as the angels are my witness i had nothing to do with that. her portrait fell upon the ground during the struggle and i picked it up. that is all i had to do about it." "where is she now?" demanded ronie, with extreme earnestness. "she is held as a prisoner at the old convent in durango under command of el capitan." "then she lives!" cried ronie, in great joy. "_si, señor_. i can lead you to the place, and will if you will give me my liberty." "that is beyond my power. i cannot--ha! here comes an officer now." the newcomer was none other than captain de caprian, who asked: "whom have we here, señors?" "a man we found prowling in the city under what we thought to be suspicions circumstances, so we stopped him. he is from san carlos, and claims he is not a spy." "i shall leave it for you to say what is to be done with him," said francisco, "promising to see that he is fairly treated." "i know not in regard to his being a spy," replied ronie, "but he has given me valuable information in regard to my mother's fate." "does he know of her?" asked francisco, eagerly. "that fact alone ought to save his life. what has he told you?" in a few words ronie explained what he had learned, when the other said, with an intonation of joy in his voice: "i am so glad, señor roland. no time must be lost in going to her rescue. i have this morning received word that my mother has been given her liberty, and that she is on her way to meet me after many sad months of separation. but, dear roland, as much as i long to meet that mother, if you are willing, and general castro will permit, i want to go with you to help save your mother. my company will be sufficient force." ronie and harrie could not conceal their emotion at the earnest words of their young friend, who showed that he spoke from the heart. "nay----" began ronie, but the other checked him. "i know what you would say, señor roland, but as much as mother and i want to see each other, we can both wait until this duty is performed. i am going to general castro at once for leave of absence. you can let this man accompany us if you think he is to be trusted. i will meet you near the old cathedral half an hour hence." after a short conference among themselves, in which manuel marlin was allowed to express his opinion, it was decided to let him go with them. he might prove a valuable companion, for they were all inclined to think he would not be false to his pledges. before an hour had passed, so promptly did they act, captain de caprian led out his regiment of gallant men, to start upon the long and arduous journey to durango on the merciful errand of saving a captive from the power of el capitan. were the truth told, more than one of the brave band hoped they might meet the bold outlaw himself. i need not describe that journey to durango. the town proved to be a little hamlet under the brow of the cordilleras, where the insurgents sometimes made their headquarters. knowing this, the advance was made with extreme caution as soon as the regiment had entered the debatable country. scouts were constantly on the lookout, and among these were our young engineers. "i can scarcely wait for the time when we shall attack them," declared ronie to harrie and manuel, as the three halted on the brink of a steep hill overlooking the hidden town. "how quiet the place seems," replied harrie. "it must be el capitan and his troops are away." "off on one of his raids, no doubt. it will be so much the better for us." "still i really think francisco will be disappointed if we do not find the rebel chief." "i wonder if yonder old vine-clad building is where mother is imprisoned?" asked ronie, pointing to what the three felt must be the ancient convent pictured by those who claimed to have been there. "_si, señors_," replied manuel. "but look there, _señors_! what does the coming of that llaneros mean?" the question from manuel was called forth by the sudden appearance of one of the riders of the llanos, or plains of venezuela, who drew rein almost in front of the old convent. with what truly seemed wonderful celerity the people began to collect, coming from every quarter. "perhaps that fellow has discovered our men and is giving the alarm," said ronie. "i wish i was near enough to hear what he says," replied manuel. "if you will wait for me, señors, a few minutes i will find out." manuel marlin then began the descent into the town, and as the distance was not far, he soon got within hearing of the new arrival. it was not over fifteen minutes before he returned to his anxious companions with the somewhat startling announcement: "it is as i expected, señors; el capitan is on his way home, and is expected within a few hours!" chapter xxviii. victory and peace. ronie and harrie heard this announcement with considerable alarm, as with their first thought they believed they had come too late to accomplish their purpose. "we must get back to the regiment as soon as possible," declared ronie. "if we act promptly we may yet rout the inhabitants of the town and save mother. how many men has el capitan under him, do you think, manuel?" "i am sorry that i am not able to tell," replied the venezuelan. "i think by what i could catch that he is coming back with a large force." "which makes it the more necessary that we act quickly. come on, boys!" his companions needed no urging to follow him, and it was not long before they were able to rejoin captain de caprian, who was anxiously awaiting them. but their news did not disconcert the brave young patriot. "it only fulfills my wishes," he said. "we have only to storm the town without loss of time, and then get ready to meet el capitan. ay, we will give him a welcome home that he little expects. i wish señor greenland would--but here he comes!" jack had also been out on a reconnoissance, and he brought in the same news that the others had--that el capitan was expected at durango within a few hours. "they say he comes with five thousand troops," added jack. our heroes turned to see what effect this announcement would have upon francisco, but as far as they could see the young captain did not show that he had heard the words. fifteen minutes later the regiment was ordered forward, and then was begun a swift, but silent, advance upon the stronghold of the insurgents, captain de caprian giving out his orders calmly and confidently, as if about to enter one of the camps of castro. could he reasonably hope to meet successfully el capitan's superior numbers? what if the latter had five thousand men under his command? ronie and harrie could not help asking each other these questions, as they fell into line and moved sternly forward. when near to the lower end of the town captain de caprian divided his men into two bodies, so as to attack the place simultaneously from different parts. our heroes remained with his division, and entered the mountain hamlet from the nearest quarter, this advance being along a narrow road overhung by a range of hills on either side. in order to give the other division time to gain a position above them, it was necessary to make a brief delay before opening the attack. but the wait was not long before the signal was given for the double assault, and the word rang along the ranks: "forward! double-quick---charge!" it goes without saying that exciting scenes followed. ronie, harrie and jack managed to keep together, and it was their good fortune to be among the first to come within close proximity to the convent where mrs. rand was supposed to be imprisoned. this had, in fact, been a part of captain de caprian's plans. the surprise was complete as far as the insurgents were concerned. the onset of the government troops came like a tempest from a clear sky. women shrieked and fled, followed by men who made scarcely more resistance, until they succeeded in rallying about the old convent. here then was fought the lion's part of the battle. a hundred or more of the insurgents made a desperate stand, but they might as well have hoped to stem the mountain torrent which swept down the gorge just behind their native hamlet. they seemed to quickly realize this, and the cry for quarter soon rang out above the medley of battle. "forward!" still shouted the youthful commander. "force an entrance to the old building before it is too late." captain de caprian showed that he realized what was likely to follow inside the structure, for he had barely uttered his order before a cry with womanly sharpness in it rang out--an appeal for help. our heroes were already storming the door, having dashed aside the sentinels on duty there. the next moment, led by ronie, and followed by a dozen of the troops, our three burst into the convent. running swiftly along the main passage they soon came upon a scene which sent the blood coursing fiercely through their veins. it would appear that the insurgents, finding they were being routed by the government troops, sought to kill the few prisoners they held within this old building. at the very moment our rescuers appeared on the scene, one of them was swinging over his head the ugly-looking knife he carried in the act of slaying the woman who was kneeling at his feet. ronie sent the miscreant senseless to the floor, and the next moment clasped his mother in his arms. "i was in season, mother," he murmured; "you are safe." but she had fainted, and as gently as possible, with the assistance of harrie and jack, he bore her to a bench where the fresh air could cool her fevered temple. "to think if we had been a minute later," said ronie. "she opens her eyes," declared harrie. "she has been spared." it was indeed an affecting scene, during which jack greenland drew apart. he found that three other captives, all venezuelans, had been rescued, and that these had been all the persons held in the convent. renewed commotion outside now caught his attention, and he returned to the side of his friends. "i think el capitan is coming, and that the boys are preparing to welcome him home," he said, grimly. "i think i will help in the greeting, if you will excuse me, lads." "forgive me, jack, for forgetting my duty," said harrie. "but i felt so anxious for ronie's mother." "i must go, mother," declared ronie. "oh, my son!" she implored, "must you leave me here and now?" it was a serious problem for the young engineers to decide, between filial and martial duty. happily jack quickly settled the matter by saying: "it is your duty, lads, to remain here. i know captain de caprian would wish it. look sharp to yourselves, while i join the troops in their welcome to el capitan." the young engineers were fain to agree to this, feeling that it was better they should. especially was this the situation as they were not regularly attached to the regiment. the "welcome" extended to el capitan and his followers was given near the lower end of the town, where the mountain ranges drew so near together that the valley was narrow, uncomfortably narrow for the surprised insurgents. el capitan will never forget that "welcome," nor will his men, who quickly scattered like sheep scaling the mountainside. if outnumbering the government troops three to one, numbers did not count then. among those who won special distinction was manuel marlin. as soon as he could do so, captain de caprian sought his american friends to congratulate them, while he described the complete victory of his troops. altogether, it was a happy occasion to them. "i shall order an immediate return to the capital," declared the young patriot. "you had better go to caracas with us, friends." they were nothing loath to do this, and it was an exceedingly happy company which found its way back to the mountain citadel, where they were hailed with delight by the president himself. el capitan, the insurgent chief who had been so feared, was turned over to the proper authorities, while manuel marlin, in consideration of his recent bravery, was fully pardoned for any error of the past. our friends at this time witnessed what seemed to them rather a peculiar trait of public justice. this was the return to caracas of el mocho, who, it will be remembered, had been kept a prisoner at san carlos for a long time. he had been accused, and apparently with good reason, of infidelity to the government. but this was now overlooked, and general castro openly welcomed him to his arms, upon his promise to be faithful in the future. "it is a good specimen of south american sense of justice," remarked jack. "one day a man is hunted as an enemy, and the next he is embraced as a loved friend. it may be all right. i cannot say." in their happiness our heroes had no desire to criticise, much more to condemn, such a practice. ronie was extremely thankful for this meeting with his mother. while they had many explanations to make and long stories to tell of what had happened since their parting, there is little i need repeat here. it was perfectly natural that mrs. rand should seek to improve the opportunity to meet ronie in caracas, and she did not dream of the suffering it was going to cost her, of the terror of captivity or the horrors of her long imprisonment, but these had been safely passed, and all felt like rejoicing over the outcome. another couple especially happy were francisco and his mother, whom our americans quickly learned to love and respect. she proved indeed to be a gentlewoman of the noblest type, who adored her patriotic son. naturally it was not long before our engineers felt it was time for them to move on their work, but this could not be done until colonel marchand, who joined with them in their happiness, could recover from his wounds so as to accompany them. while these healed, and our friends passed the time pleasantly in the capital, flitting back and forth between their friends, the warlike affairs of the republic grew apace. there was some fighting to be done, but mainly it had come to be a matter of diplomacy and argument between the powers, until finally the glad news of a peaceful negotiation came to them. once more president castro had triumphed, achieving this time, it seemed, his grandest victory. when the account of this rang over the mountain city our american engineers began to prepare for an arduous campaign of an altogether different kind from that which befell them when they were comrades under castro. the end. "engineer ralph," by frank h. macdougal, no. of the round the world library, is a splendid story of a boy's supreme struggle to success. the panama canal [illustration: _clinedinst--washington, d.c._ col. george w. goethals, u.s.a., chairman and chief engineer isthmian canal commission.] the panama canal a history and description of the enterprise by j. saxon mills, m.a. barrister-at-law with maps and illustrations thomas nelson and sons london, edinburgh, dublin, manchester, leeds paris, leipzig, melbourne, and new york preface. the literature on the subject of the panama canal is rather dispersed. a full and entertaining history of the project will be found in mr. w. f. johnson's "four centuries of the panama canal" (cassell and co., ), a work to which i am greatly indebted. dr. vaughan cornish has given the results of much research and several visits to the canal in "the panama canal and its makers" (t. fisher unwin, ), and in several lectures, especially one before the royal colonial institute, june , . an inexhaustible mine of information will be found in mr. emory r. johnson's official report on panama canal traffic and tolls (washington, ). the report on the trade and commerce of the republic of panama for the year , by mr. h. o. chalkley, acting british consul at colon, contains useful information. a valuable series of articles on the panama canal appeared in _the times_ of . the _national geographic magazine_ of february contains an authoritative article by colonel g. w. goethals, chief engineer of the canal, and the number for february an interesting appreciation by mr. w. j. showalter. in _scribner's magazine_ for february , mr. j. b. bishop, secretary of the isthmian canal commission, writes a very useful paper on the sanitation of the isthmus. in his recent work on south america mr. bryce devotes one of his delightful chapters to the isthmus of panama. a chapter on the panama canal will be found in mr. a. e. aspinall's "the british west indies," and many references in mr. c. g. murray's "a united west indies." i must thank mr. g. e. lewin, the librarian of the royal colonial institute, for his unfailing help and courtesy. bushey, . contents. preface date history of the canal i. the secret of the strait ii. canal projects iii. the clayton-bulwer treaty and the suez canal iv. the french failure v. the hay-pauncefote treaty vi. the united states and colombia vii. a miniature revolution viii. the battle of the levels ix. man and the gnat x. life at the isthmus xi. the problem of construction xii. the culebra cut xiii. the locks xiv. the completed canal xv. panama and the isthmus xvi. the new ocean highways xvii. the canal and the americas xviii. the canal and the british empire xix. the new pacific appendix i.--hay-pauncefote treaty appendix ii.--panama declaration of independence appendix iii.--hay-bunau-varilla treaty clauses - and appendix iv.--proclamation as to canal toll rates list of illustrations. col. george w. goethals, u.s.a. _frontispiece_ chairman and chief engineer isthmian canal commission. col. william c. gorgas medical department, u.s. army, head of the department of sanitation, ancon. culebra cut, from west bank gatun locks, looking south-west gatun upper lock, looking north gatun upper lock--west chamber pedro miguel locks date history of the canal. conquest of constantinople by turks columbus's first voyage columbus discovers bay of limon rodrigo de bastidas, balboa, and la cosa reach the isthmus columbus's fourth voyage, vainly seeks the strait balboa sights the pacific sept. , pedrarias founds the old town of panama magellan discovers the straits that bear his name - gonzalez de avila discovers lake nicaragua the quest of isthmian strait given up as hopeless _circa_ gomara appeals to charles v. to construct canal drake sights the pacific philip iii. directs surveys for darien canal english seize jamaica henry morgan destroys old panama paterson's settlement at panama spanish surveys of tehuantepec and nicaragua and von humboldt's residence in central america - panama declares its independence and joins new granada overtures made by central america to united states for canal goethe's prophecies dutch canal concession from nicaraguan government abandoned british honduras annexed by great britain united states treaty with new granada clayton-bulwer treaty panama railway opened to traffic dickinson-ayon treaty between united states and nicaragua president grant recommends canal under united states control appoints interoceanic canal commission suez canal opened la société civile internationale du canal interocéanique founded grant's commission reports in favour of nicaraguan route the de lesseps company formed company starts work bankruptcy of french company new panama company formed construction work at nicaragua - ferdinand de lesseps died hay-pauncefote treaty spooner act panama revolts from colombia hay-bunau-varilla treaty american occupation of isthmus begins completion of canal formal opening the panama canal. chapter i. the secret of the strait. it was either very careless or very astute of nature to leave the entire length of the american continent without a central passage from ocean to ocean, or, having provided such a passage at nicaragua, to allow it to be obstructed again by volcanic action. this imperviousness of the long american barrier had, as we shall see, important economic and political results, and the eventual opening of a waterway will have results scarcely less important. the panama canal will achieve, after more than four centuries, the object with which columbus spread his sails westwards from the port of palos--the provision of a sea-route westwards to china and the indies. the capture of constantinople in by the turks interrupted the ancient trade routes between east and west. brigands held up the caravans which plodded across the desert sands from the euphrates and the indus, and pirates swarmed in the mediterranean and red sea, intercepting the precious cargoes of silks and jewels and spices consigned to the merchants of italy. the eyes of all europe were turned to the atlantic, and an ocean route westwards to india and the orient, the existence of which had been fabled from the days of aristotle, became an economic necessity. columbus, as every one knows, died in the belief that he had discovered this route, and that the lands he had visited were fringes and islands of the eastern asiatic continent. the geographers of those days greatly exaggerated the eastern extension of asia, with the result that the distance from europe to china and india was underestimated by at least one-half. this was a fortunate mistake, for it is improbable that if columbus had known that cathay and cipangu (japan) were a good , miles westwards from the coast of spain he would have ventured upon a continuous voyage of that length in the vessels of his time. it was in his fourth voyage ( ) that columbus first reached and explored the coastline of the isthmus and central america. he was apparently not the first to land on the isthmus. that distinction belongs either to alfonso ojeda, who is said to have reached "terra firma" earlier in , or to rodrigo de bastidas, who, we are told, set sail from cadiz with la cosa in , and, reached the isthmus somewhere near porto bello. about the doings of columbus on the mainland we get some detailed information from the portuguese historian and explorer of the sixteenth century, galvano. it is interesting to read that the great navigator visited the exact spot where the newly-constructed canal starts from the caribbean coast. from the rio grande, we read, columbus "went to the river of crocodiles which is now called rio de chagres, which hath its springs near the south sea, within four leagues of panama, and runneth into the north sea." it was this same river, as we shall see, that became the feeder of the canal when the high-level scheme was adopted. so far out of his reckoning was columbus that at panama he imagined himself to be ten days' journey from the mouth of the ganges! one of his objects, as we know from his own journal, was to convert the great khan of tartary to the christian faith, and this entanglement in what he called "the islands of the indian sea" was a sore hindrance to that and all his other purposes. he began that search for the strait which engaged the attention and tried the temper of spanish, portuguese, and english navigators for the next thirty years. he had heard from the natives of the coast of "a narrow place between two seas." they probably meant a narrow strip of land as at panama. but columbus understood them to mean a narrow waterway, and rumours of such a passage no doubt existed then, as they still do among the isthmian tribes. he must also have heard accounts of the great ocean only thirty miles away, and it is rather surprising he should not have made a dash across and anticipated balboa and drake. in may , however, he quitted the "terra firma" without solving the great secret, and he never returned to the mainland. he died in , still in complete ignorance of the nature of his discovery. he knew nothing of the continent of america or of that seventy million square miles of ocean beyond, to which magellan gave the name of "pacific." the holy grail itself was not pursued with more persistence and devotion than this mythical, elusive strait by the navigators of the early years of the sixteenth century. the isthmian governor sent out from spain went with urgent instructions to solve the "secret of the strait." in balboa set himself to the great enterprise. if he could not discover a waterway he would at least see what lay beyond the narrow land barrier. from coibo on the gulf of darien he struck inland on september with a hundred indian guides and bearers. it is eloquent of the difficulties of the country which he had to traverse that it was not until september that he won, first of european men, his distant view of the nameless and mysterious ocean.[ ] it was he, and not cortéz, who "with eagle eyes, stared at the pacific." "and all his men looked at each other with a wild surmise, silent upon a peak in darien." cortéz was himself a persistent searcher for the mythical strait. he wrote home to the king of spain saying, "if the strait is found, i shall hold it to be the greatest service i have yet rendered. it would make the king of spain master of so many lands that he might call himself the lord of the whole world." these vain attempts had very important results. they led incidentally to the exploration of the whole coastline of the american continent. for example, jacques cartier, who was sent out by the king of france about this time to find "the shorter route to cathay," searched the coast northwards as far as labrador and thus prepared the way for the planting of a french colony in canada. at last, in , a sea-passage from the atlantic to the pacific was actually discovered by the first great circumnavigator, magellan, but it was far away from the narrow lands between north and south america. through the perilous straits that have ever since borne his name at the southern extremity of the continent, magellan pushed his venturous way into the great ocean beyond. but even magellan had no idea that a few miles south of his strait the land ended and atlantic and pacific mingled their waters in one great flood. that truth was accidentally discovered by the english drake more than fifty years afterwards ( ). drake had been driven southward by stormy weather when he made the discovery which almost eclipsed in its importance even magellan's exploit. in his exultation, we are told, he landed on the farthest island, and walking alone with his instruments to its extremity threw himself down, and with his arms embraced the southernmost point of the known world. from that point drake sailed up the western coast of south america, engaged mainly in his favourite pursuit of "singeing the king of spain's beard"--capturing, that is, the treasure-ships bound to panama. but he did not forget the more scientific duty of searching for the strait. far northward he held his course, past the future california, till he must have been off the coastline of what is now british columbia, ever hoping to find the pacific outlet of the famous north-west passage. but always the coast trended to the north-west, and drake, giving up the quest, turned his prow westward and continued his voyage of circumnavigation. but we are over-running our dates and must return to events at the isthmus. it was about the year that the non-existence of a natural waterway became recognized. and no sooner was this fact accepted than projects for an artificial canal began to be put forward. it was clear to the geographers and traders of those days that an isthmian route westward offered great advantages to the routes _via_ the cape of good hope, magellan straits, or the problematical north-west passage. footnotes: [ ] the eminence known as "balboa hill" in the american canal zone is certainly not that from which balboa first sighted the pacific, though very likely a tradition to that effect will now gradually be established. chapter ii. canal projects. it appears that the honour of first conceiving and proposing the project of an artificial waterway through the isthmus belongs to Álvaro de saavedra cerón, a cousin of cortéz, who had been with balboa at panama. cerón had been for twelve years engaged in the search for the strait, and had finally begun to doubt its existence. his thoughts turned to the isthmus at panama, where the narrowness and low elevation of the land seemed to offer the likeliest chance of an artificial canal. we learn from the old historian galvano that cerón prepared plans for the construction of a waterway there--almost precisely along the route chosen for the american canal nearly four hundred years later. cerón's death, however, put an end to this early project. it is interesting to find the portuguese historian galvano, who flourished in the middle of the sixteenth century, mentioning four possible routes for the canal--namely, darien, panama, nicaragua, and tehuantepec. the choice, however, quickly confined itself to the panama and nicaraguan lines. the reader may feel some surprise that at such an early date as this an engineering project should be seriously considered which was only accomplished in the end by the wealth and mechanical resources of one of the greatest of modern powers. the explanation is that the tiny vessels of the early sixteenth century could have taken advantage of the natural rivers and lakes in the isthmus, especially those on the nicaraguan route, and that far less artificial construction would have been necessary than in these days of the mammoth liner and warship. charles v., king of spain, seems to have been quite alive to the importance of these canal projects. in he directed the governor of costa firme, the old name for the panama district, to survey the valley of the chagres, the river which supplies the water for the upper reaches of the american canal. this gentleman, however, seems scarcely to have shared the royal enthusiasm. he may be supposed to have known the isthmus at these points very well, and his scepticism about the prospect of canal construction there in those days was not wholly groundless. the spanish historian gomara, who wrote a history of the indies in and dedicated it to charles v., declared a canal to be quite feasible along any of the four routes mentioned by galvano. it is true he recognized obstacles. "there are mountains," he wrote, "but there are also hands. if determination is not lacking, means will not fail; the indies, to which the way is to be made, will furnish them. to a king of spain, seeking the wealth of indian commerce, that which is possible is also easy." but charles v. died without making any practical advance in this enterprise, and a rather remarkable reaction took place under his successor, philip ii. it should be noted that by this time a permanent roadway had been established across the isthmus from panama to porto bello, along which the spanish treasure-convoys passed from sea to sea without much interruption. the rapidly growing power of the english at sea made philip fear that, if a canal were built, he would be unable to control it, and would probably lose his existing monopoly of isthmian transit. so he issued a veto against all projects of canal construction. he even persuaded himself that it would be contrary to the divine purpose to link together two great oceans which god had set asunder, and that any such attempt would be visited by a terrible nemesis.[ ] so his majesty not only forbade all such schemes but declared the penalty of death against any one who should attempt to make a better route across central america than the land-route between panama and porto bello. in course of time the king's beard was so horribly singed by english navigators and adventurers in the caribbean sea that the atlantic end of the overland trail became almost useless, and the spanish argosies were compelled to sail homewards round the far magellan straits. but in , as we have seen, sir francis drake ("el draque" as he was called by the terrified spaniards) had suddenly attacked, captured, and scattered the spanish ships off the pacific coast of south america. so the isthmian land-route was once more resumed, and it took the spaniard all his time to hold that open. for many years no progress was made with the idea of an isthmian canal. war between england and spain was the natural order of things in these central american regions. in the english seized jamaica, and soon afterwards established themselves on the coast of honduras and nicaragua. the old city of panama, of which only a picturesque church-tower remains to-day, had been founded by a spanish governor named pedrarias in . in the city was destroyed by that wicked welsh buccaneer, sir henry morgan. the town was rebuilt two years later by alonzo mercado de villacorta, five miles west of the old site. the project of a canal across the isthmus was never allowed entirely to disappear. in a very determined attempt was made to plant a british colony on the isthmus at darien, a little east of the panama route. the pioneer was william paterson, a scotsman, who founded "the company of scotland trading to africa and the indies." sir walter scott, in his "tales of a grandfather," thus describes the project:-- the produce of china, japan, the spice islands, and eastern india, brought to the bay of panama, were to be transferred across the isthmus to the new settlement, and exchanged for the commodities of europe. in paterson's enthusiastic words, "this door of the seas and key of the universe will enable its possessors to become the legislators of both worlds and the arbitrators of commerce. the settlers at darien will acquire a nobler empire than alexander or cæsar, without fatigue, expense, or danger, as well as without incurring the guilt and bloodshed of conquerors." so , settlers set sail from leith in july , no doubt with a high hope and courage. in november the expedition arrived and established itself at a point of the coast still called puerto escoces, or scotch port, in caledonian bay, also named from the same event. "new edinburgh" and "new st. andrews" were founded, but the settlers soon got into difficulties. the climate was intolerable, and the project was opposed from the outset by the english and dutch east india companies, who were alarmed on the score of their own exclusive rights, while spaniards and indians were a perpetual menace. broken down by these adversities the original settlers left the place, but were succeeded at once by another company which, after some successful fighting with the spaniards, were compelled by the superior forces of the enemy to evacuate the settlements in the year . it is possible that if this attempt at colonization had been made after and not before the union of scotland and ireland it would have met with much less opposition in england, perhaps would have received government sympathy and support. in that case the isthmus would have been added to the british dominions, and a waterway might have been constructed under the british flag. it should be added that paterson, who had personally surveyed the isthmus, positively declared that the construction of a canal was a feasible undertaking. during the eighteenth century, though surveying was carried out in many parts of the isthmus by european engineers, the project of a canal was never seriously taken up. it may be remembered that in our own nelson was at nicaragua, annexing the lake and getting control of the interoceanic route in this region, but doing little more than injuring his own health. with the nineteenth century, however, events began to move at the isthmus. the great scientist, alexander von humboldt, spent the first few years of the new century in mexico and central america. in his "political essay on new spain" he described the impervious isthmus, "the barrier against the waves of the atlantic," as for ages "the bulwark of the independence of china and japan." the absence of any water communication at the isthmus between the two oceans has indeed had highly important political and economic results. it kept east and west far asunder. it removed the west coast of north america from the colonizing rivalries of the old world. england and the united states seemed for long ages only semiconscious of their territories on the pacific which were awaiting colonization. even in recent times very few emigrants from europe, who went out with the intention of going far west, penetrated much further than chicago or manitoba. population and industrial enterprise were concentrated in the east of canada and the united states, and have only begun within modern times to move effectually westwards. england was indeed so indifferent about her territories along a far coast, which could be reached only round the horn or by an almost impossible land-transit, that in the settlement of the oregon boundary in the middle of last century she accepted a canadian frontier-line much further north than would otherwise have contented her. she had at least as good a right to california and the territories to the northwards as the descendants of her revolted colonists. the absence of a waterway at the narrow lands secured to the united states and to england their expansion westwards, but imposed on the westward movement a very slow and gradual pace. one result of the new canal will be a very rapid development of these pacific slopes, especially those of british columbia. the effect on south america of this complete severance of east and west has also been very important. the republics on the pacific have been sheltered as much as possible from european influences. immigration has been naturally restricted, the population, especially that of chile, kept free from negro admixture, and the development of the countries effectually checked. the opening of the canal will, of course, have a contrary effect all along these lines. but, to return from this digression, humboldt described six routes in central america where a canal would be practicable, including that which was afterwards adopted at panama. he investigated and discussed many physiographical questions in connection with the subject. there had arisen a general belief that the level of the pacific was much higher than that of the atlantic, and that a sea-level canal would therefore be impossible. humboldt declared against this theory. but it is curious to find him favouring the idea that the construction of a tide-level canal might have the effect of diverting the gulf stream from our shores, and thus making the climate of our british islands much more rigorous and inhospitable. the researches of humboldt in the west indies and central america much interested the scientist's great fellow-countryman, goethe. a passage from goethe's "conversations with eckermann" is worth quoting as an example of prophecy wonderfully fulfilled:-- humboldt [said goethe] has with great practical knowledge mentioned other points where, by utilizing some of the rivers which flow into the gulf of mexico, the end could perhaps be more advantageously attained than at panama. well, all this is reserved for the future, and for a great spirit of enterprise. but so much is certain: if a project of the kind succeeded in making it possible for ships of whatever lading or size to go through such a canal from the gulf of mexico to the pacific ocean, quite incalculable results would ensue for the whole of civilized and uncivilized humanity. i should be surprised, however, if the united states were to let the opportunity escape them of getting such an achievement into their own hands. we may expect this youthful power, with its decided tendency westwards, in thirty or forty years to have also occupied and peopled the extensive tracts of land beyond the rocky mountains. we may further expect that along the whole pacific coast, where nature has already formed the largest and safest harbours, commercial cities of the utmost importance will gradually arise, to be the medium of trade between china, together with the east indies, and the united states. were this to happen, it would be not alone desirable but even almost necessary that merchantmen as well as men-of-war should maintain a more rapid connection between the west and east coasts of north america than has previously been possible by the wearisome, disagreeable, and costly voyage round cape horn. i repeat, then: it is absolutely indispensable for the united states to effect a way through from the gulf of mexico to the pacific ocean, and i am certain they will compass it. this i should like to live to see, but i shall not. secondly, i should like to live to see a connection established between the danube and the rhine. but this, too, is an undertaking so gigantic that i doubt its being accomplished, especially when i consider our german means. thirdly and lastly, i should like to see the english in possession of a suez canal. these three great things i should like to live to see, and it would almost be worth while for their sakes to hold out for some fifty years. many projects for canal construction, chiefly by the nicaraguan route, were started and failed during the first half of the nineteenth century. the second decade of that century witnessed the revolt one by one of all the spanish provinces in central and south america. the colombian confederation, comprising venezuela, ecuador, and new granada, achieved their independence in . panama quickly followed, and allied itself with new granada (now colombia). in the central american envoy to the united states urged the american government to co-operate in the canal enterprise with the states he represented. the result was that henry clay, the american secretary of state, ordered an official survey at nicaragua, and scheme followed scheme in quick succession. in the king of holland was granted a canal concession by the nicaraguan government. this enterprise was frustrated by the outbreak of the revolution in the netherlands and belgium. it would be tedious to enumerate the many projects started during the following years. but it is worth recalling that louis napoleon bonaparte, who was then a prisoner in the fortress of ham, became interested in the subject, and while still a captive obtained a concession and franchise for a canal company from the nicaraguan government. he published a pamphlet on the isthmian canal question which aroused a good deal of attention, though its author's interest was soon diverted to political events nearer home. a passage from his little book is interesting for its strong advocacy of the nicaraguan route by the san juan river and the lakes:-- the geographical position of constantinople rendered her the queen of the ancient world. occupying, as she does, the central point between europe, asia, and africa, she could become the entrepot of the commerce of all these countries, and obtain over them immense preponderance; for in politics, as in strategy, a central position always commands the circumference. this is what the proud city of constantine could be, but it is what she is not, because, as montesquieu says, "god permitted that the turks should exist on earth, as a people most fit to possess uselessly a great empire." there exists in the new world a state as admirably situated as constantinople, and we must say, up to this time, as uselessly occupied. we allude to the state of nicaragua. as constantinople is the centre of the ancient world, so is the town of leon the centre of the new, and if the tongue of land which separates its two lakes from the pacific ocean were cut through, she would command by virtue of her central position the entire coast of north and south america. the state of nicaragua can become, better than constantinople, the necessary route of the great commerce of the world, and is destined to attain an extraordinary degree of prosperity and grandeur. france, england, and holland have a great commercial interest in the establishment of a communication between the two oceans, but england has more than the other powers--a political interest in the execution of this project. england will see with pleasure central america becoming a powerful and flourishing state, which will establish a balance of power by creating in spanish america a new centre of active enterprise, powerful enough to give rise to a feeling of nationality, and to prevent, by backing mexico, any further encroachments from the north. the idea of a trans-isthmian canal seemed likely in the 'fifties of last century to prove a cause of discord, if not of war, between england and the united states. under the rather "pushful" foreign policy of lord palmerston, england rapidly increased her influence and possessions in central america. in "british honduras" was practically constituted a british colony, and british influence was subsequently extended into nicaragua and mosquitia, thus covering the favourite route for an isthmian waterway. the united states were establishing themselves on the pacific through their encroachments on mexico. in they acquired the states of california, nevada, arizona, and new mexico, and naturally began to attach more importance to the canal project and to feel more sensitive as regards rival ambitions in central america. soon after they had acquired these pacific territories, began the great rush for gold to california, and some shorter way from east to west became necessary than the sea-trail round the horn or the weary wagon-trek over the broad north american continent. already in , before the mexican war and the discovery of gold in california, the united states had made a treaty with new granada, by which the former secured rights of transit over the isthmus "upon any modes of communication that now exist or may hereafter be constructed," and by which they guaranteed the sovereignty of new granada over all the territories at the isthmus. it was under this treaty that the panama railway was constructed which brought the town of colon (formerly aspinwall) into existence, and was subsequently taken over by the united states government. this railroad made the isthmus for the first time a highway of world-traffic. it had a monopoly of isthmian transportation, and was able to make any charges it pleased. steamship services to the southern and northern coasts of america from panama were developed, and the railway succeeded so well that it paid down to an average dividend of per cent. it was bought by the first french panama company for the outrageously high sum of £ , , . the existence of the railway really determined de lesseps' choice of the panama route, and the immense amount of excavation done by the french had a great deal to do in turn with the american choice of the same route, so that the construction of the panama railway was a highly important event at the isthmus. the united states took over the railroad from the french with the unfinished canal, together with a steamship service from colon to new york, owned by the railroad. the rivalry between england and the united states along the nicaraguan route became so acute and dangerous that a very important treaty was concluded between the two countries in , when we may say that the panama canal question entered the domain of modern politics. the clayton-bulwer treaty, so-called from mr. john m. clayton, the american secretary of state, and sir henry bulwer, british minister at washington, who negotiated it, held the field for fifty years, and became the subject of endless discussion between england and the united states. footnotes: [ ] herodotus tells a story how the people of knidos were forbidden by the delphic oracle to make a canal through the isthmus, along which their persian enemies could advance by land to attack them. the oracle said that if zeus had wished the place to be an island he would have made it one. there is a curious resemblance between this story and that related in the text. chapter iii. the clayton-bulwer treaty and the suez canal. the treaty of was concerned primarily with a canal along the nicaraguan route--that is, as the preamble expresses it, a canal "between the atlantic and pacific oceans by way of the river san juan de nicaragua and either or both of the lakes of nicaragua or managua to any port or place on the pacific ocean." but as article viii. says, it established "a general principle" relating to any waterway across the isthmus between north and south america. the two contracting parties undertook in the treaty that neither should "obtain or maintain for itself any exclusive control over the said canal," or "maintain any fortifications commanding the same, or in the vicinity thereof," or "occupy, or fortify, or colonize, or assume, or exercise any dominion over nicaragua, costa rica, the mosquito coast, or any part of central america." this agreement, as i said, subsisted for fifty years, but it was scarcely concluded when it was found inconsistent with the growing importance and ambition of the united states, where a demand quickly arose for an american-owned canal. again there followed a series of schemes for canal construction at various points of the isthmus. for example, dr. edgar cullen created some excitement in england in the early victorian days by giving a very favourable account of the caledonian route across the isthmus at darien, in a lecture to the royal geographical society. the doctor was received by the young queen and the prince consort, a corporation was formed, and an engineer sent out to make surveys from caledonian bay. a british and a french man-of-war were dispatched to the isthmus to make investigations. but the surveyor was driven from caledonian bay by local tribes, and so went on to panama, giving a favourable report of that route on his return to england. but nothing came of these incidents, and the american civil war in the early 'sixties diverted the attention of the united states from isthmian affairs. at the end of the war american interest revived, and public opinion set more and more against the idea of sharing a canal with any other power. in president grant gave the first public expression to the demand for an american canal under american control. "i regard it," he said, "as of vast political importance to this country that no european government should hold such a work." later, in an article in the _north american review_, he said, "i commend an american canal, on american soil, to the american people." just before the president's declaration of policy the united states had concluded an important treaty, known as the "dickinson-ayon treaty," with nicaragua, securing a right of way for a canal over the nicaraguan route; and, just afterwards, president grant appointed an interoceanic canal commission which investigated four routes for a canal, and finally, in , reported unanimously in favour of the nicaraguan route from grey town to the san juan river, to lake nicaragua, through the rio del medio and rio grande valleys, to brito on the pacific coast. in an event occurred which was to have a very decisive effect on isthmian affairs--the opening for traffic of the suez canal. these two isthmuses in the eastern and western hemispheres have some obvious features in common. they both link two vast continents and form a barrier between two oceans or oceanic systems. they are fairly equal in breadth--suez, sixty miles, and panama about fifty-four. the shortest line across each runs almost exactly north and south. and they were both until recent times uninhabited country. but there are many dissimilarities. the isthmus at suez is a flat and sterile desert; that at panama is hilly and covered with an almost impenetrable jungle of tropical vegetation. again, suez is a healthy district, whereas panama was, until recent years, a pest-house as deadly as sierra leone or the guinea coast. mr. bryce in his charming book on "south america" compares these two inter-continental causeways from a more historical point of view. he writes:-- a still more remarkable contrast, between these two necks of land, lies in the part they have respectively played in human affairs. the isthmus of panama in far-off prehistoric days has been the highway along which those wandering tribes whose forefathers had passed in their canoes from north-eastern asia along the aleutian isles into alaska found their way, after many centuries, into the vast spaces of south america. but its place in the annals of mankind, during the four centuries that have elapsed since balboa gazed from a mountain top rising out of the forest upon the far-off waters of the south sea, has been small indeed compared to that which the isthmus of suez has held from the beginning of history. it echoed to the tread of the armies of thothmes and rameses marching forth on their invasions of western asia. along the edge of it israel fled forth before the hosts of pharaoh. first the assyrian and afterwards the persian hosts poured across it to conquer egypt; and over its sands bonaparte led his regiments to palestine in that bold adventure which was stopped at st. jean d'acre. it has been one of the great highways for armies for forty centuries, as the canal cut through it is now one of the great highways for commerce. the turn of the isthmus of panama is now come, and, curiously enough, it is the isthmus of suez that brought that turn, for it was the digging of a ship canal from the mediterranean to the red sea, and the vast expansion of eastern trade which followed, that led to the revival of the old designs, mooted as far back as philip ii. of spain, of piercing the american isthmus. thus the comparison of the two isthmuses becomes now more interesting than ever, for our generation will watch to see whether the commerce and politics of the western world will be affected by this new route which is now being opened, as those of the old world have been affected by the achievement of ferdinand de lesseps. it will be seen from this quotation how the completion of the suez canal affected the panama project. lesseps, fresh from his success at suez and not contented with his great achievement there, was easily attracted by the schemes which were afoot for constructing a ship canal at another land-barrier which, like the isthmus at suez, had obstructed the quickest lines of communication between east and west. in a corporation was established, called "la société civile internationale du canal interocéanique," for the purpose of promoting canal schemes on the lower isthmus. its head was lieutenant lucien napoleon bonaparte wyse, who easily obtained a canal concession at bogotá from the colombian government. in an international engineering congress was assembled at paris by lesseps, whose partisans compelled a decision in favour of the panama route. but the united states, determined by this time to construct a canal for themselves without any joint control or international guarantee of neutrality, opposed the french scheme from the outset. no amount of bluff from the french promoters affected this opposition. the american people had indeed some right to complain. the colombian concession to the french was quite inconsistent with the treaty of between this south american republic and the united states. this treaty lesseps tried to induce colombia to abrogate, and every effort, fair and foul, was employed to overcome the american objection to the scheme. in lesseps was fêted at a public banquet at new york, but even the personal presence of the great man failed to have the desired effect. president hayes addressed a strong message to the senate on the subject, a few passages of which are interesting as showing the very decided views now held by the american government and people:-- an interoceanic canal across the american isthmus will essentially change the geographical relations between the atlantic and pacific coasts of the united states, and between the united states and the rest of the world. it will be the great ocean thoroughfare between our atlantic and our pacific shores, and virtually a part of the coastline of the united states. our mere commercial interest in it is larger than that of all other countries, while its relation to our power and prosperity as a nation, to our means of defence, our unity, peace, and safety, are matters of paramount concern to the people of the united states. no other great power would, under similar circumstances, fail to assert a rightful control over a work so closely and vitally affecting its interests and welfare. without urging further the grounds of my opinion, i repeat, in conclusion, that it is the right and the duty of the united states to assert and maintain such supervision and authority over any interoceanic canal across the isthmus that connects north and south america as will protect our national interests. this, i am quite sure, will be found not only compatible with, but promotive of, the widest and most permanent advantage to commerce and civilization. the reader will see that all this is inconsistent with the clayton-bulwer treaty, under which the united states had actually undertaken to claim no such exclusive control as was now desired. lengthy negotiations were now set on foot with england for the abrogation of a treaty which forbade the united states to build a canal of their own and prevented them from effectually opposing the french scheme. lord granville, however, saw no reason why england should abandon the treaty solely in the interests of the united states, and the negotiations were fruitless. meantime the french persisted in their undertaking. their canal was to be tide-level, twenty-eight feet deep, costing £ , , . a corporation entitled the compagnie universelle du canal interocéanique de panama was formed in , and in the same year the work of construction was begun. so it looked as though the americans were to lose all chance of constructing an isthmian canal under their own control. events, however, were to decide otherwise. chapter iv. the french failure. the french company began work on the isthmus in february, and such a rake's progress set in as the world has seldom seen. the name of ferdinand de lesseps inspired such confidence that plenty of money was forthcoming from the french people. a great deal of it was subscribed by small investors who could ill afford to lose their savings, and no fewer than , women took shares in their own names. the beginning of the excavations was celebrated with a "gala" performance in the little theatre at panama, among the artistes being sarah bernhardt. then began a drama or a melodrama of extravagance and profligacy lasting seven years. money was poured out like the torrential flood-waters down the river chagres. i have mentioned the exorbitant sum which the company paid for the panama railway. all the expenditure was on the same scale. princely salaries were paid to the managers and directors, and elegant mansions erected for their accommodation. building operations--warehouses, hospitals, hotels, etc.--were carried on "regardless." mr. w. f. johnson tells of a man who owned thirty acres of land useful mainly as a breeding-place for mosquitoes, but lying right across the route of the canal. it was worth perhaps dollars. the man demanded just a thousand times that sum; the colombian courts awarded it, and the french paid it. for one great mistake the french made was that they failed to secure a canal zone in which they would have exercised full powers of administration. they began to build their canal on colombian territory, under colombian control, and the consequence was that they were fleeced on every side. probably this mistake was inevitable, as the united states would have vetoed any territorial concession by colombia to france as a transgression of the monroe doctrine. the isthmus rapidly degenerated into a moral as well as a climatic pest-house. froude described the condition of things at panama in one terrible sentence: "in all the world there is perhaps not now concentrated in any single spot so much swindling and villainy, so much foul disease, such a hideous dung-heap of moral and physical abomination." in fairness, however, it must be said that lesseps himself cannot be held directly responsible for this state of affairs. he lived in paris, and had probably little notion of what was happening at panama. he furnished an example of the proverbial effects of too much success and prosperity. he seems to have become a superstitious believer in his own star, and to have thought that nothing could fail with which he was associated. still less can the french nation be blamed for the wild doings of their representatives at the isthmus. and there is at least one redeeming feature in the conduct of this enterprise. in the midst of the moral and physical abominations that infested the isthmus during the french occupation, the engineering work went on steadily and conscientiously. much of the french work was available for the americans when they took over the task, and the engineers of the united states have always testified generously to the excellence of the french excavation and construction along the canal route. it must be carefully noted that the french canal was to be sea-level like the suez, corinth, and kiel canals. the construction of such a waterway differed in many important ways from that of the high-level lock canal which the united states have completed. to understand this we must consider briefly the character of the country which lies between panama and colon. the dominant and decisive features of the isthmus at this point are the chagres river and the culebra mountains. the chagres enters the caribbean a little west of colon. its valley runs right across the isthmus south-south-eastwardly towards panama for about twenty-six miles, then, at a place called bas opisbo, suddenly swerves away to the north-east into the trackless and jungle-clad hill country. this valley is the only transverse trench which the isthmus affords at this stretch, and it has always fixed the attention of surveyors looking out for a canal site. if the isthmus had been a rainless desert like that of suez, a canal could have been constructed by a further preparation of this river valley and some heavy excavations along the nine-mile reach from obispo to the pacific. the sea would then have been admitted, the ebb and flow of the pacific (the atlantic shore is almost tideless) being regulated by a tidal lock. but the problem is not nearly so simple. the isthmus is one of the rainiest places in the world, enjoying on the atlantic side inches of rain a year. at panama the rate is much smaller, not more than inches. in the central hills the rainfall averages to inches. the average number of rainy days in the year is at bohio (inland on the atlantic side), at colon, and at panama. the reader must not imagine a perpetual downpour or drizzle. the rain comes down in thundering tropical cataracts, leaving spaces of fine weather between the storms. still, the isthmus is undoubtedly rainy and damp, and it is this humidity which makes the climate so trying, though the variations of the thermometer are by no means extreme and the average air temperature not particularly high. for example, the average temperature at panama ranges from . fahrenheit in november to . in march--that is, during the hottest time of the day, from two to four o'clock p.m. the coolest time is from six to seven a.m., when the average temperature ranges between . in january to . in june. the yearly average daily temperature is . . the thermometer seems never to have recorded degrees fahrenheit at panama, whereas has been touched even at washington. but to return to the chagres river. the tropical rains convert this stream very quickly into a raging torrent. the chagres is capable of rising over forty feet in twenty-four hours. if the chagres valley was to be the site of the canal, as was obviously necessary, how did the french propose to "care for" this tremendous and capricious flow of water? mr. johnson remarks that "those who have seen the antics of the chagres under the stress of a characteristic isthmian rain must be pardoned if they regard the harnessing of the chagres to the canal as something much like the harnessing of a mad elephant to a family carriage." the only course open to the french with their sea-level project was to divert the chagres with its twenty-six tributaries, chief of which are the gatun and the trinidad, from its old valley into another channel, along which it could rage as it pleased on its short journey to the caribbean. this would have been a tremendous, though probably not an impossible, task. the new panama company, which took the french work from the lesseps company in , dropped the tide-level in favour of a lock or high-level canal, and adopted the plan of a dam across the river valley at bohio, creating a lake above this point and discharging the flood waters to the level below by means of a spillway in the adjacent hills. we shall see later how the americans adopted the same principle but modified it in practice. so much at present for the chagres problem. the other main feature of the isthmus is met with about the point where the river suddenly changes its direction--that is at bas obispo, or gamboa, about nine miles from the pacific outlet. here are the hills, the backbone or "continental divide," averaging over feet high but rising to much higher points, which connects the cordilleras of south with the sierras of north america. for eight or nine miles the canal must run through this central barrier on its way to the pacific. the earliest french notion was for a ship tunnel--a project perhaps never seriously contemplated. the only other course was to cut right down through this hilly country. that was a tremendous undertaking, which required, even for its inception, a good deal of the faith which is said to be able to "remove mountains." we shall look more closely at the famous "culebra cut" when we come to the american canal. most of the work of the french companies consisted of the dredging of the sea-level channels at the atlantic and pacific ends. but they drove a pretty deep furrow as well through the culebra mountains, excavating in all about , , cubic yards. with their sea-level scheme the french had, of course, a bigger proposition before them at the hills than their american successors. they would have had to cut right down below sea-level, whereas the bottom of the cut in the american lock-canal is forty feet above that level. considering the difficulty the united states engineers have had with "slides" and "breaks" along the sides of their cutting, one suspects that the much deeper and narrower channel of the french would have proved impracticable. the french scheme gave a width to the channel at this point of only feet, while the bottom width of the american canal is feet. the french work at the "cut" was all utilizable by the americans, who, though with different machinery, adopted the same general method of excavation. in the french company suspended payments and went into bankruptcy. the canal was completed to the extent of about two-fifths, and had already cost nearly £ , , . it was said at the time that about one-third of this sum was spent on the canal, one-third wasted, and one-third stolen. the original capital with the eight subscription lists between and produced nominally £ , , , but actually only £ , , , the loss in discounts, etc., amounting to £ , , . the collapse of the company was followed by investigations and trials in france. ten senators and deputies, together with the directors, were brought to trial. ferdinand and his son charles de lesseps were, among others, condemned to fines and imprisonment, but the sentences upon the lesseps were never carried out. neither the son nor the father was probably responsible for the iniquities which had marked the history of the company. the genius who had created the suez canal was indeed completely broken down by the tragical conclusion of his second venture, and died in in a condition of mental and physical collapse. but financial profligacy was not the only cause of the french failure. disease and death fought against the enterprise from the first. yellow fever and malaria caused as much mortality among the french employees as would suffice for a great military campaign. sir ronald ross, the great expert in tropical diseases, was told in , when at the isthmus, that the french attempt cost at least , lives. this may have been an over-estimate, but there is no doubt that the mortality was terrible, and would probably have brought the french operations to an end even if greater economy and honesty had prevailed in the administration. it must not be supposed that the french made no provision for the victims of these endemic diseases. excellent hospitals were built at ancon, near panama, at a cost of over a million of money; while those at colon cost more than a quarter of a million--in both cases about three times a fair and honest price. at the time of the french occupation of the isthmus nothing was known of the real nature and cause of yellow fever and malaria, of the manner in which they are transmitted, and the only effective means of prevention. all the recent and marvellous advance in scientific knowledge of these diseases was available when the americans began their work, and was applied with the greatest efficiency and success. medical science, quite as much as engineering skill, made a panama canal possible, and we shall have a good deal more to say on this subject when we come to describe the american operations. let us not forget, then, that despite their failure the french did a great deal of good work, which they passed on many years afterwards to their american successors. a quantity of the french machinery, tools, and hardware was also available. it is true that among this was included a large consignment of snow-shovels (for use at sea-level less than degrees from the equator!), and a quantity of petroleum torches for the festivities which were one day to celebrate the completion of the canal. but a great deal of the plant was in good condition. the extravagance and corruption which prevailed at the isthmus during the first french company were almost incredible. but it may be doubted whether any other nation could have succeeded in the 'eighties of last century where the french failed. chapter v. the hay-pauncefote treaty. in a new corporation, known as the new panama canal company, took over all the assets of the de lesseps company, including the railway, and the work of construction was continued, or at least not wholly interrupted. meanwhile the people of the united states were not greatly displeased at the collapse of the great french enterprise. they became more and more determined to construct an american canal under american control. the nicaraguan route was still favoured by many as compared with that at panama. in a surveying party was sent to nicaragua, and the next year the maritime canal company was established to promote the building of a canal there. it is important to notice this particular scheme, for under it work was actually begun. wharves, warehouses, and a breakwater were constructed at greytown, a railway was built, and some progress made with the canal itself. outside the panama route this was the only actual work of canal construction performed in isthmian and central america. the project failed owing to the great depression of trade which occurred in and the impossibility of getting more capital. it should be noticed that these projects of constructing an american canal at nicaragua quite independently of great britain were right in the teeth of the clayton-bulwer treaty of , which still remained in force. most sensible persons saw that the first preliminary to an american canal was to get this treaty abrogated or modified. but this purpose and canal schemes in general were delayed by the outbreak in of the spanish-american war. this was a naval war, and the united states were to feel the inconvenience and danger of having no sea communication between their eastern and western coasts except _via_ the far southern extremity of the continent. united fleet action over the whole theatre of the war was rendered impossible. an event soon occurred which finally completed the conviction of the american people that, in the words of president grant, "an american canal on american soil" was a national necessity. at the beginning of the war the battleship _oregon_, one of the finest ships in the united states navy, lay off san francisco. she was not wanted there, but she was very badly wanted at the west indies, the main scene of the naval struggle. to get there the _oregon_ had to sail , miles round cape horn instead of , miles _via_ a panama canal, if there had been one. everybody in the united states knew that the precious warship was making that perilous journey exposed all the way to the attack of the enemy. if she had been lost, the course of the war might have been very different, and even the delay of this long passage was a serious consideration at so critical a time. however, the vessel arrived safely and in a record time off florida, and the suspense and anxiety of the american people were changed into jubilation. but "never again" was the moral they drew from this painful and exciting experience. at the end of the war a fresh canal campaign broke out in congress, the claims of nicaragua and panama being urged by their respective champions. the outcome of this rivalry was the appointment of a commission, the third of the kind, to go to the isthmus and investigate both nicaragua and panama. we shall have something to say about the report of this commission, which was issued in december . but already, before that appeared, negotiations had been set on foot between the united states and great britain with regard to the clayton-bulwer treaty. allusions to the subject by mr. m'kinley in his second message to congress had brought the question prominently before the people of both countries. the president had spoken thus:-- that the construction of such a maritime highway is now more than ever indispensable to that intimate and ready communication between our eastern and western seaboards demanded by the annexation of the hawaiian islands and the prospective expansion of our influence and commerce in the pacific, and that our national policy now more imperatively than ever calls for its control by this government, are propositions which i doubt not the congress will duly appreciate and wisely act upon. it is obvious that the annexation by the united states of hawaii and the philippines, the beginnings of an american oversea empire, had greatly strengthened the case for a canal owned and controlled by the united states, and bringing the eastern coasts, the governmental centre of the states, into far more direct communication with these new acquisitions in the west. mr. m'kinley's pronouncement was soon followed by conversations between mr. john hay, the american secretary of state, and lord pauncefote, british ambassador at washington. the result was a treaty which was laid before the senate in february . this first attempt, however, was unsuccessful. the american people were annoyed to find that it did not abrogate the clayton-bulwer treaty, but left the united states with something very short of that independent control which they desired. amendments were introduced, and, so altered, the treaty was ratified by the senate on december , . but in this new shape it proved unacceptable to the british government, and it was permitted to lapse; lord lansdowne, however, suggesting that another attempt at agreement should be made. it may be asked why great britain, who had hitherto taken the view that it had nothing to gain, and perhaps much to lose, from the reconsideration of the clayton-bulwer treaty, should now have been so willing to bring it under review. there was a variety of reasons. the government of the united states had protested for nearly fifty years against the agreement, and this pertinacity, together with the changed conditions since the spanish-american war, may have weighed with the british government. then the alaskan boundary question was at that time still under discussion between the two countries, and a settlement was proving difficult. an obstinate resistance to the united states over the canal question might have continued that deadlock indefinitely. at this time, too, england was at the beginning of the boer war, and finding that business a good deal more intricate than she had expected. the sentiment of anglo-american friendship had also grown much warmer since the days when lord granville had repulsed the advances of mr. blaine. in november a new treaty made its appearance. this was ratified by the senate without amendment, and was ultimately concluded between the two powers, being known as the hay-pauncefote treaty.[ ] it is very important to note the provisions of this treaty, because it establishes what is known as the political "status" of the new canal. the hay-pauncefote expressly supersedes the clayton-bulwer treaty and provides for the construction of a canal (mentioning no particular route) "under the auspices of the government of the united states," which country is "to have and enjoy all the rights incident to such construction, as well as the exclusive right of providing for the regulation and management of the canal." it adopts the principles of "neutralization" which were embodied in the treaty of constantinople of in connection with the suez canal. both treaties provide for:-- . freedom of transit in time of peace or war for the vessels of all nations. . freedom of the canal and its terminals from blockade. . a code of procedure for war-vessels entering or leaving the canal. no special reference is made to the question of fortification, but the united states are to be at liberty to maintain such military police along the canal as may be necessary to protect it against lawlessness and disorder. a treaty, however, subsequently concluded between the united states and the republic of panama (known as the hay-bunau-varilla treaty) contains the following provision:-- if it should become necessary at any time to employ armed forces for the safety and protection of the canal, or of the ships that make use of the same, or the railways and auxiliary works, the united states shall have the right, at all times and in its discretion, to use its police and its land and naval forces or to establish fortifications for these purposes. but the most important provision of all related to the question of the charges and other conditions of traffic through the canal. the meaning of the section seems plain enough, though it became a subject of rather acute controversy:-- the canal shall be free and open to the vessels of commerce and war of all nations observing these rules, on terms of entire equality; so that there shall be no discrimination against any such nation, or its citizens or subjects, in respect of the conditions and charges of traffic, or otherwise. such conditions and charges of traffic shall be just and equitable. this provision is reaffirmed in article xviii. of the hay-bunau-varilla treaty. there is no doubt that the british government regarded this promise of equal treatment as some compensation for the surrender of those rights of joint construction and control which great britain enjoyed under the clayton-bulwer treaty. in fact, mr. hay, in a memorandum he sent to the senate committee on foreign relations, described the treaty as a sort of contract between great britain and the united states by which the former gave up those rights just mentioned in return for the "rules and principles" included in the new treaty, the chief among these being, of course, the provision about equality of treatment for all nations. it was, therefore, a surprise when the united states government decided that the expression "all nations" did not include the united states themselves, and that it was quite open to them to give preferential treatment to their "coastwise" traffic. under the term "coastwise" the united states include the sea-traffic not only between ports along a continuous coast, but between such points as san francisco or washington and the philippine islands. as a matter of fact, an amendment proposed by mr. burd in the senate, reserving to the united states the right of favouring its "coastwise" traffic, had been defeated, when the new treaty was under discussion. but, leaving these controversial questions, the most important thing for us to notice is that the panama canal has what is known as an "international status." it is not quite the sole and absolute property of the united states in the sense in which the kiel canal belongs to germany, the corinth canal to greece, and the amsterdam or north sea canal to the netherlands. its status is governed by treaties which impose certain obligations and restrictions upon the united states and lay down certain rules of administration. it was intended at first to make the status of the panama and the suez canal identical. but there are considerable differences. the "neutrality" of the suez canal is guaranteed by all the powers of europe, that of the panama canal by two only, england and the united states, and it is safeguarded and maintained by the united states alone. then the suez canal is and must remain unfortified, while the panama canal will be strongly fortified by the united states. the reader may wonder what precisely is meant by the word "neutral" as applied to the new waterway. the position will be as nearly as possible that indicated by dr. vaughan cornish in the following passage:-- if there be a war in which the united states is not a party, the canal will be used by belligerents in exactly the same way as was the suez canal--for example, in the russo-japanese war--and the government of the united states has pledged itself to see that such neutrality is preserved. but if there be a war in which the united states is a party, the circumstances of fortification and operation by the united states in fact render it impossible for the other belligerent to use the canal, and are intended to have that effect. this being so, the united states is preparing to defend the canal from attack. thus it is important to the proper understanding of the undertaking on which the united states government has embarked that we should clearly realize that the canal is only neutral in a restricted sense.[ ] as a matter of fact the status of the panama canal lies somewhere between neutralization and american control. the hay-pauncefote treaty also lays down the rules which are to be observed by the ships of war of a belligerent using the canal and the waters adjacent to the canal--that is, within three marine miles of either end. they are similar to those in force at suez, and need not be repeated here. footnotes: [ ] appendix i. [ ] "the panama canal and its makers," pp. , . chapter vi. the united states and colombia. those citizens of the united states who thought that with the disappearance of the clayton-bulwer treaty all the difficulties in the way of obtaining a canal of their own had also disappeared were doomed to a severe disappointment. they had not reckoned with a south american republic on the verge of bankruptcy and suddenly presented with a glorious opportunity to fill its empty treasury. two preliminaries were necessary before the united states could settle down at the isthmus of panama to the work of canal construction. they had to purchase the concession, the unfinished works and the other assets of the new panama company, at as reasonable a price as they could obtain; and, secondly, it was necessary to conclude a treaty with colombia, securing to the united states on satisfactory terms the perpetual control of a strip of territory on the isthmus from sea to sea within which the canal could be constructed. the first of these undertakings presented, as it turned out, no great difficulty. the new panama company had begun to despair of its own ability to get a canal finished across the isthmus, and to realize that their best course was to transfer the whole business to the united states. this disposition had been greatly strengthened by the report of the third canal commission, issued in december . probably the members of the commission were convinced of the advantages of the panama route and the desirability of continuing the work of the french engineers. but they were shrewd people. they dwelt in their report on the improbability that the new panama company would sell its property to the united states, and on the difficulty of getting the colombian concession transferred. they decided, therefore, that "the most practicable and feasible route for an isthmian canal to be under the control, management, and ownership of the united states is that known as the nicaraguan route." the commission probably foresaw the effect such a decision was likely to have on the directors and shareholders of the new panama company. if an american canal were constructed at nicaragua, all the property and work of the company at panama would be thrown on the scrap-heap. the company estimated the value of its property at $ , , , a price which the commission, representing the american government, declined to look at. the commission thought $ , , quite enough for the property, and so completely were the americans master of the situation that that price was agreed upon in january . the commission thereupon issued a supplementary report, which reversed the former decision and recommended the panama route and the purchase of the french property. then arose in the congress of the united states a tremendous conflict between the nicaraguans and the panamanians, the champions of the two routes which had so long been in rivalry. the former party insisted that panama was farther from the united states than nicaragua, and therefore the journey from the eastern to the western seaboard of the states would be longer. they argued that panama was unfavourable to sailing vessels on account of the prevailing calms on that coast; that it would be easier to deal with costa rica and nicaragua than with colombia; and that nicaragua was "the traditional american route" as compared with the frenchified panama. the claims of the old darien route were also advanced. this was probably done by american railway people who were against any canal, for the darien route would have involved a rock tunnel five miles long and three hundred feet broad, the attempt to achieve which would probably have ended all canal adventures at the isthmus. from these discussions emerged the celebrated "spooner bill," under which the panama canal has been constructed. it empowered the american government to secure the rights and property of the panama company for not more than $ , , ; to obtain from colombia the perpetual control of a strip of land, not less than six miles wide, in which the canal should run; and then to proceed with the work. but if it should prove impossible to come to terms with colombia and the new panama company, then the nicaraguan project was to be revived. we shall see how, in the sequel, this latter proviso came very near fulfilment. but, as a matter of fact, the spooner bill marks the end of the great battle of the routes which had lasted for four centuries. the purchase price of the new panama company's property was happily settled, but the purchase was of course conditional on the conclusion of a satisfactory agreement between the united states and colombia. it was no use for the united states to acquire unfinished canal-works if they were to be prevented from continuing and completing them. the situation was interesting. the republic of colombia was extremely "hard up." its currency was debased, its treasury empty, its debt rapidly increasing through a large annual deficit. the government, if one may so express it, of the colombian republic was therefore not likely to overlook the chance of "making a bit" out of the necessities of the bigger and richer republic farther north. the united states wished to get their concession as cheaply as possible; colombia wished to sell as dearly as possible. this is not infrequently the case with buyers and sellers; but colombia pushed her haggling a little too far, and in the end very badly overreached herself. the united states began by proposing terms on which they might obtain the desired strip of territory. the conditions were carefully laid down. the territory was to remain under colombian sovereignty, but to be administered by the united states. sanitary and police services were to be maintained by both governments jointly. colombia was to police the zone, with the help of the united states if necessary. but the business terms were chiefly interesting to colombia. the united states were to pay colombia a bonus of $ , , in cash, and after fourteen years an annuity of $ , . these terms, which were not ungenerous, the colombian minister at washington declined to accept. a brilliant idea had, indeed, struck the statesmen of the colombian republic. they had remembered that the concession to the panama company lapsed in october , and that all its property that could not be carried away would revert to the colombian government. only defer any agreement with the united states till then, and the $ , , to be paid to the new panama canal company by the united states would drop like a golden nest-egg into the empty exchequer of the colombian republic. it was a brilliant idea, but the colombian method of pursuing it was rather too crude and obvious. in order to meet the colombian government the united states improved their offer, considerably increasing the bonus and making other changes. an agreement, known as the hay-herran treaty, was actually arranged between the united states and colombia, the latter represented by her minister at washington, dr. tomas herran. this treaty, before it became operative, had to be ratified by the congress of colombia, and the president of that state took care that a congress should be elected which would do no such thing. meantime all kinds of influences, secret and open, were at work. the german "colonial party" had become interested in the question, and had conceived the possibility of germany, rather than the united states, succeeding to the french concession. it is quite certain that the united states would have resisted any such proceeding, if necessary by actual war. there is little doubt, also, that the party in the united states which had supported the nicaraguan scheme were throwing every obstruction in the way of a satisfactory agreement between the big and the little republic. the reader may guess what was the anxiety of the new panama canal company during all this diplomacy and intrigue. they knew that the completion of the sale of its property to the united states depended on an agreement being concluded between that country and colombia; and they also knew that unless they sold before october , they would have practically nothing to sell, because the franchise and possessions of the company would be forfeited to the colombian government at that date. it would be better to sell on the best terms they could obtain to germany or anybody else before the fatal day arrived. meantime the united states brought every force of argument and menace to bear on the colombian government. secretary hay sent urgent dispatches to the american minister at bogotá. he reminded colombia that the decision to adopt the panama route was not irrevocable. the spooner law authorized the american president to await only "a reasonable time" for an agreement with colombia. having waited so long, he was able and indeed bound to resume the nicaraguan project. when the colombian congress duly rejected the hay-herran treaty in august , the new panama company became very seriously alarmed. other offers of purchase were renewed, and the situation became critical for the united states. the american counsel for the company, mr. william nelson cromwell, who had done his utmost to promote the agreement, had the utmost difficulty in keeping his clients to their compact with the united states. he made a hurried trip to paris, where he said something which had the desired effect. there is no reason to believe that mr. cromwell took any part in the surprising events which were soon to alter the entire situation. but he had heard the proverbial "little bird," and the tidings he passed on brought the new panama directors to the desired mood of patience and expectancy. colombia meanwhile kept on marking time. she suggested that a new treaty should be negotiated between the united states and colombia, to be ratified by the colombian senate some time in . that would have put the clock forward splendidly, but the device was duly understood at washington. in october a committee of the colombian senate reported to the senate a recommendation that no agreement should be concluded with the united states until the french concession had lapsed. this recommendation was not acted upon by the colombian senate, nor yet were any steps taken towards the negotiation of a new treaty. the american government gave a generous interpretation to the "reasonable time" specified in the spooner bill, and kept on waiting in the hope that the colombian congress would still change its mind and ratify the hay-herran treaty, whose terms, as we have seen, were liberal to the colombian republic. but when the congressional session at bogotá came to an end on october , , without any further action over the hay-herran treaty, the americans concluded that the whole business was over so far as negotiations with colombia on the panama question were concerned. obviously the only course was to turn to the nicaraguan alternative. and the colombian government no doubt thought it had won the day by sheer force of astute statesmanship. then came a coincidence more astonishing than any since the day when mr. weller, senior, upset the eatanswill outvoters (purely by accident) into another canal. the panama revolution broke out, and the united states suddenly and without further difficulty obtained all they wanted of the isthmus. and colombia? she lost every stick and stone of the canal which was to have been hers in october , never made a farthing on a panama deal, got no thanks from germany or anybody else, and lost a whole province into the bargain. such were the results of very astute statesmanship at bogotá. chapter vii. a miniature revolution. it was not to be expected that panama, one of the constituent provinces of the united states of colombia, would be very enthusiastic about all this haggling and intriguing at bogotá. panama asked for nothing better than that a rich and powerful country like the united states should continue the french enterprise and carry it through. the canal would run right through the province, and would bring it into the main stream of the world's traffic and commerce. no doubt the central government at bogotá would skim off as much as possible of this new wealth and prosperity at the isthmus; but even so, panama would reap a great advantage from the running of this new and much-frequented highway of communication between east and west through its territory. the dealings of the central government with the united states had roused a growing disgust and resentment at the isthmus. the relations between the province of panama with new granada and its successor colombia had been very chequered ever since the revolt of the spanish colonies in central and south america in the early years of last century. panama declared her independence in , and allied herself at once with new granada. but troubles began forthwith. again and again the isthmian province seceded from new granada or colombia, and was induced to return by promises of more favourable terms of union, these always remaining unfulfilled. in his annual message to congress in , president roosevelt enumerated some fifty-three "revolutions, rebellions, insurrections, riots, and other outbreaks" that had occurred at the isthmus in fifty-seven years. not long before these difficulties between the united states and colombia, panama had received a new constitution which was far from satisfactory to the people of the province. there was in truth little to be gained by a continued allegiance to the government at bogotá. some idea of the depths to which colombia had sunk through a long course of bad administration and corruption may be gathered from a passage in the official address of dr. marroquin on his becoming vice-president of colombia in . he said:-- hatred, envy, and ambition are elements of discord; in the political arena the battle rages fiercely, not so much with the idea of securing the triumph of principles as with that of humbling, and elevating persons and parties; public tranquillity, indispensable to every citizen for the free enjoyment of what he possesses either by luck or as the fruit of his labour, is gradually getting unknown; we live in a sickly atmosphere; crisis is our normal state; commerce and all other industries are in urgent need of perfect calmness for their development and progress; poverty invades every home. the notion of mother country is mistaken or obliterated, owing to our political disturbances. the conception of mother country is so intimately associated with that of political disorders, and with the afflictions and distrust which they engender, that it is not unusual to hear from one of our countrymen what could not be heard from a native of any other country: "i wish i had been born somewhere else." could many be found among us who would feel proud when exclaiming, "i am a colombian," in the same way as a frenchman does when exclaiming, "i am a frenchman"? this was a cheerful pronouncement for a people to hear from the lips of a man who was just assuming high office in their midst. it suggests some further reasons why the panamanians should have so readily asserted their independence once more when the negotiations between colombia and the united states fell through. long before that happened, before the colombian congress which was to deal with the hay-herran treaty had assembled, a much-respected citizen of panama, dr. manuel amador (guerrero), had written to the colombian president warning him that serious consequences would follow at panama if that treaty were not ratified. for answer the central government foisted on panama a candidate for congress who was well known as an enemy of the united states and of the isthmian canal scheme. representations to the government at bogotá were useless, and panama saw the prospect of a canal being constructed through her territory fading into distance. then it was that an eminent panamanian, josé agustin arango, a senator at the colombian congress of , who had vainly urged the ratification of the hay-herran treaty, conceived the idea that panama might declare her independence and then make her own treaty with the united states regarding a trans-isthmian canal. it soon turned out that the same idea had struck many others, and a junta of zealous conspirators was quickly formed. señor arango chanced to meet dr. amador one day at the offices of the panama railroad, and unfolded his revolutionary design to that gentleman. the doctor proved highly sympathetic. there was indeed no difficulty in finding adherents. señor arango, dr. amador, and c. c. arosemena undertook the conduct of the movement, and among the other leaders were señor arango's sons and sons-in-law, nicanor a. de obarrio, federico boyd, tomas and ricardo arias, and manuel espinosa. a very important person, general esteban huertas, commander of the troops in panama, was easily enrolled, as were also alcaldes, chiefs of police, and other important officials. the first thing to do was to sound official opinion in washington as to what treatment the revolted province might expect from the american government. moreover, revolutions cost money, and supplies must be obtained from somewhere. so dr. amador and ricardo arias were deputed to go to the united states. there they called on mr. cromwell, the counsel of the new panama company, who gave them very little encouragement. moreover, they were carefully "shadowed" by colombian agents, so that they were able to cable to their expectant friends at the isthmus only the single depressing word, "desanimado" (disappointed). then dr. amador called at the office of a panamanian friend and sympathizer, joshua lindo, and asked for counsel in his difficulties. mr. lindo at once suggested that the likeliest person to help was mr. bunau-varilla, who had been chief engineer under the french canal company. it is interesting to know that this gentleman had been a fellow-student of alfred dreyfus, and had given effective help in the campaign which ended in that officer's liberation from the island prison not so very far from the isthmus of panama. unfortunately, said mr. lindo, mr. bunau-varilla was in paris; but even as the friends deplored his absence the telephone rang, mr. lindo answered the call, and lo! mr. bunau-varilla announced his return to new york. such a coincidence might well seem providential, for mr. varilla proved a friend in need and in deed. he promised the necessary funds as well as other practical help, and asked for only one return--that he might be appointed minister of the reconstituted panama to the united states for just so long a time as was necessary for the arrangement of the new treaty between the two countries for the construction of the isthmian canal. it is not surprising, therefore, that the next telegram sent home by the revolutionary agents was more cheerful. it consisted of the single word "esperanzas" (hopes). dr. amador now made some efforts to ascertain the sentiment and intentions of the united states government. he called on mr. hay, the secretary of state, at the state department. now it is obvious that when a gentleman calls at a foreign office and announces himself as a conspirator against a government with which that office has friendly relations, the visitor cannot expect much practical help and sympathy. but the authorities at washington, whose nerves were raw from the prolonged struggle with colombia, would scarcely have been human if they had not felt a secret joy at a movement which promised such an ample retribution on colombia and so easy a settlement of the panama problem. dr. amador was politely informed that he must pay no more calls at the department. but he had seen and heard enough to assure him that the united states would at least remain neutral, and, if the revolution succeeded, would conclude a canal treaty with the new republic. he felt that there were two very important conditions to be fulfilled. firstly, the revolution must be effected without bloodshed, for public sympathy in the united states would be alienated by any fighting or violent disturbance. the conspirators were also not without a certain natural solicitude for their own skins. secondly, there must be a brand-new government ready to take the place of the colombian administration so soon as this was abolished. the scene now changes to the isthmus. the conspirators were inclined at first to be sceptical about dr. amador's report of the probable attitude of the united states, but on november , , the arrival of the american gunboat _nashville_ at colon reassured them. the _nashville_ had come, as american men-of-war had frequently come in the past to colon or panama, not to take sides with any party in a scrimmage, but calmly and impartially to maintain order and keep transit open at the isthmus, in accordance with treaty obligations. the orders to the _nashville_, as subsequently to the _boston_ and the _dixie_, were these:-- maintain free and uninterrupted transit. if interruption threatened by armed force, occupy line of railroad. prevent landing of any armed force with hostile intent, either government or insurgent, either at colon, porto bello, or other point.[ ] a similar order was sent to rear-admiral glass at acapulco, who was to proceed to panama with the same object. but the coming _coup d'état_ was known at bogotá as well as at washington. the date fixed for the outbreak was november . general huertas was to be ready with his troops, and the signal to be given by the blowing of bugles by the firemen. but the colombian government at last decided to act, and on november the steamer _carthagena_ arrived at colon, having on board general tovar with a force of about four hundred and fifty men. the commander with three other resplendent warriors, generals castro, alban, and amaya, at once took train for panama; while their troops, many of whom had brought their wives, camped out in the streets of colon. these events were duly telephoned to panama. the news reached dr. amador and his friends at ten o'clock, just an hour before the arrival of the colombian officers. it was "a crowded hour of glorious life" for the conspirators, some of whom found the excitement too much for their nerves, disappeared from the scene, and gave up the conspiracy business altogether. but the leaders were of better mettle, and while the trans-isthmian train was rapidly bringing the representatives of the established government to panama a good many plans were discussed. the desperate nature of the occasion may be gathered from the fact that one of the proposals was to drug the colombian officers, and when thus disabled convey them to durance vile. in great perplexity dr. amador sought general huertas; but he had put on his dress uniform and gone to the station to meet his superiors. so matters were to be allowed to take their own course. at eleven o'clock a gush of glittering uniforms, fifteen in all, counting the generals and the staffs, descended upon the panama platform. one might almost have expected them to advance to the footlights and announce their arrival and intentions in a four-part chorus. here obviously were the properties, the stage scenery, and the artistes, principals and chorus, of a first-rate comic opera. in the harbour lay three colombian gunboats whose political views were not fully ascertained, though it was thought the commanders had been won over to the revolutionary cause. the new arrivals were welcomed by general huertas and conducted to headquarters, while the conspirators, no doubt with quickened pulses, awaited subsequent events from a distance. the colombian officers wished to be conducted forthwith to the fortifications and the sea-wall. now this was precisely what general huertas, whose heart beat loyally under his official gold braid to the cause of freedom and independence, wished to avoid, and for two reasons: firstly, it would have been easy for the federal generals to signal to the gunboats in the harbour and thus get command of the entire situation; secondly, on that same sea-wall there were some modern quick-firing guns, behind which even fifteen men might quickly get the whole city at their mercy. so general huertas determined that on the whole he would conduct his guests anywhere but to the sea-wall. he suggested that there were better ways of spending the hot hours of the day than in going round fortifications in stiff and sweltering uniforms. after luncheon, followed by a little siesta behind sun-shutters, would be a better time for the business of inspection. the generals were probably both hot and hungry, and they allowed themselves to be persuaded. but even as they lunched their suspicions seemed to have awakened. some one, it is said, warned them of the trap into which they had walked. and moreover, why did the bogotá troops not arrive from colon? what exactly happened is not recorded, but it is a fact that the generals suddenly insisted on the panama troops being paraded and themselves being conducted to the fortifications. general huertas made some excuse for leaving the luncheon room, and outside the door found dr. amador, the respectable physician of panama, now an arch-conspirator, though without the black mantle and stiletto. "the contrast between these two men," writes mr. johnson, "was most striking. the one was advanced in years, venerable and stately in aspect, and yet impetuous as youth. the other was only a boy in stature and scarcely more than a boy in years, yet at the time deliberate and dilatory. the latter, however, quickly responded to the zealous initiative of the former. 'do it,' exhorted dr. amador in an impassioned whisper, 'do it now.'" the business was soon over. huertas ordered out his soldiers, who knew well enough what was going to happen. then, as the military swells from bogotá came on the ground, the little general gave the order, the rifles were levelled on the colombians, and they were walked off to police headquarters and safely locked up. then governor obaldia was also arrested and taken to prison, but this was only a formality. he was an ardent conspirator, but as he represented the central government, it was thought desirable to perform the symbolical act of arresting and deposing him. he was at once released. there was now no going back. the next step was to announce the fact of the revolution to the gunboats, in the harbour, which were still a doubtful factor. two of them, the _padilla_ and the _chucuito_, remained silent; but the third, the _bogotá_, sent word that if the generals were not released by ten o'clock it would turn its guns on to the city. the generals were, of course, not released, so at ten o'clock the _bogotá_ launched three shells into the city. one of these killed an unfortunate and innocent chinese coolie near the barracks, and that was the only casualty that occurred during the whole course of the great panama revolution. then the _bogotá_, that deed of slaughter accomplished, steamed out of the harbour. the next morning the gunboat _padilla_, which had been considering the situation during the night, suddenly made up its mind, steamed in to a snug anchorage under the fortified sea-wall, and hoisted the flag of free and independent panama. the _padilla_ might have been called upon to make good its new allegiance, for a report was spread that the terrible _bogotá_ was returning to bombard, this time to good purpose. so a letter was drawn up by the consuls of the united states, great britain, france, germany, italy, spain, holland, ecuador, guatemala, salvador, denmark, belgium, cuba, mexico, brazil, honduras, and peru, protesting against the bombardment of a defenceless city without due notice to the consular corps as contrary to the rights and practices of civilized nations. what answer the justly enraged commander of the _bogotá_ would have returned to this rather representative address cannot be known, for the _bogotá_, no doubt unnerved by the sensation of casting three live shells into a live town, never returned to witness the devastation it had wrought. what in the meantime was occurring at colon? why had the colombian soldiers not flown to the rescue and vengeance of their captured officers? the explanation is simple, though perhaps unexpected--they could not pay their railway fares! after the departure of the generals for panama on november , colonel torres, who had been left in charge of the government troops, demanded a "special" to take them across the isthmus. the superintendent of the line intimated that specials were procurable, but that fares must be paid. and the fares of persons ran into money, in fact nearly $ , in gold, or quite a little wheelbarrowful of the depreciated colombian silver. anywhere but in panama or ruretania the plea of state necessity, which in presence of the needed no demonstration, would have procured some concession from the railway authorities. but the railway rules provided for no such emergencies. no fare, no journey--that was the immutable railway law, and colonel torres had to lead his men back to their street encampments. it is one of the many remarkable coincidences at this juncture that the telegraphic and telephonic system also broke down, the wires refusing to transmit any messages from colon to the officers at panama. at last, on november , colon received the news of the revolution and the impounding of the colombian officers. some little impatience then appeared among the colombian troops. they actually threatened to seize the railway and go across in spite of regulations. also it was rumoured that colonel torres, losing for a moment his self-command, threatened to kill every american citizen in colon unless his fellow-officers were at once liberated. at any rate, that rumour was duly reported to the commander of the _nashville_, who, on the strength of it, at once landed fifty bluejackets to preserve the peace of the town. the commander also wrote to the alcalde of colon and the chief of the police, giving the gist of an official order he had received from washington. the order pointed out that to allow the passage of colombian troops from colon to panama would excite a conflict between the forces of the two parties, and would thus interrupt the free and open transit of the isthmus which the united states was bound to maintain. the commander had therefore instructed the superintendent of the railways to afford carriage to the troops of neither party. never was officer so outrageously impeded in the performance of his obvious duty as colonel torres. and right in the middle of the situation thus created the _carthagena_, which had brought the colombian troops to colon, sailed demurely home. in a few days there assembled some nine or ten vessels of the united states navy at colon or panama. on november it was announced that the united states would permit the landing of no forces hostile to panama within fifty miles of the city of panama or anywhere at all on the caribbean coast. was not the united states government compelled by treaty obligations to preserve peace, the paying of fares, and "free and uninterrupted transit" at the isthmus? how unreasonable to suggest that the great and grown-up republic was protecting and taking the side of the little baby republic which had just been born at panama! but the soldiers encamped with their wives in the streets of colon were becoming an inconvenience, and it was highly desirable to remove this substantial lump of grit from the machinery of revolution. the commander of these troops himself helped to effect that object. he, in fact, offered to take his little army away in return for a satisfactory honorarium. the panama treasury fortunately contained at that time a sum of $ , in debased colombian coinage, worth about $ , in gold. a little of this might well be expended on clearing the country of the colombian troops. the commander accepted $ , in gold, and quickly bundled the loyal troops and their spouses on board the royal mail steamship _orinoco_ for passage homewards. he himself did not propose to return home and report himself. his scheme was to go to jamaica and spend his suddenly acquired wealth in "that loveliest of the antilles." then a cruel thing happened. the got wind of the bargain their commander had made with the panama government, and by a swift logical process concluded that the $ , which had been paid for their departure belonged to themselves as well as to their commander. so they laid hands on the hapless officer and took all the money from him. we may imagine the annoyance of the gentleman who had betrayed his country, dishonoured his name, and then lost the "tip" which had made it all worth while. his subsequent proceedings are nowhere recorded. just after the colombian troops had set sail homewards a special train arrived at colon bringing the captive generals, who had promised to go home without further fuss. they left colon on november , so that they had plenty of time to contemplate the beginnings of the new régime in panama. all kinds of reports began to arrive about the intentions of the government at bogotá. a naval expedition was said to be on the way from buenaventura, but the united states navy had instructions to take care of any experiments of that sort. then the news came that a land expedition was approaching along the isthmus. that would have implied a real triumph of original exploration. it would have meant clearing a road for troops through impenetrable jungle, through which it is hard to cut the narrowest track by means of the machete or the long spanish cutlass. the untamed san blas indians, who permit no white man to spend a single night in their territory, would have mobilized against the invasion, and so would the wild cats and anacondas and monkeys, who share with the indians the sovereignty of that tangled wilderness. the revolution was an accomplished fact, and colombia could do nothing but accept the inevitable and reflect on the disappointment of her golden dreams. the revolutionists had been ready with their constitutional arrangements. the municipal council of panama had met immediately after the _coup d'état_. it was unanimously voted that panama should be a free and independent republic, and a provisional ministry was at once appointed. these proceedings were ratified the same afternoon at a mass meeting of the people of panama held in the cathedral square. a formal manifesto was also issued, constituting a declaration of independence and a justification of the revolt. it opens magniloquently: "the transcendental act that by a spontaneous movement the inhabitants of the isthmus of panama have just executed is the inevitable consequence of a situation which has become graver daily." it goes on to set forth the grievances of panama under the colombian connection and the events which had led to the revolution. it ends in an almost pathetic note:-- at separating from our brothers of colombia we do it without hatred and without any joy. just as a son withdraws from his paternal roof, the isthmian people in adopting the lot it has chosen have done it with grief, but in compliance with the supreme and inevitable duty it owes to itself--that of its own preservation and of working for its own welfare. we therefore begin to form a part among the free nations of the world, considering colombia as a sister nation, with which we shall be whenever circumstances may require it, and for whose prosperity we have the most fervent and sincere wishes.[ ] by november the new government had settled down so steadily to its work, and so obviously commanded the adherence of the whole people, that it received formal recognition from the united states in these words:-- as it appears that the people of panama have, by unanimous movement, dissolved their political connection with the republic of colombia and resumed their independence, and as there is no opposition to the provisional government in the state of panama, i have to inform you that the provisional government will be held responsible for the protection of the persons and property of citizens of the united states, as well as to keep the isthmian transit free, in accordance with the obligations of existing treaties relative to the isthmian territory. we need not dwell upon the desperate efforts made by the colombian government to retrieve the situation. a respected colombian, general reyes, was sent to washington to offer to revive the old hay-herran treaty, with modifications greatly in the american interest, if the united states would help to restore colombian sovereignty at the isthmus. but all was in vain. colombia must lie on the bed she had made, and before the end of the year the new republic had been recognized by all the leading powers of the world. the new government was true to the undertaking on the strength of which mr. bunau-varilla had given his help and support to the movement. on november he was appointed minister of panama to the united states, and on november the hay-bunau-varilla treaty[ ] was signed at washington, which finally placed the united states in a position to begin the work of canal construction at the isthmus. footnotes: [ ] see "four centuries of the panama canal," p. (w. f. johnson). [ ] for full text of declaration see appendix ii. [ ] appendix iii. chapter viii. the battle of the levels. by the hay-bunau-varilla treaty the united states guaranteed and undertook to maintain the independence of the republic of panama. the new republic granted to the united states in perpetuity the use, occupation, and control of a strip ten miles wide and extending three nautical miles into the sea at either terminal, with all lands lying outside of the zone necessary for the construction of the canal, and with the islands in the bay of panama. the cities of panama and colon were not embraced in the canal zone, but the united states assumed their sanitation and, in case of need, the maintenance of order therein. all railway and canal property rights belonging to panama and needed for the canal passed to the united states, including any property of the railway and canal companies in the cities of panama and colon. the works, property, and personnel of the canal and railways were exempted from taxation in the cities of colon and panama as well as in the actual canal zone. free immigration of the workers and free importation of supplies for the construction and operation of the canal were granted. provision was made for the use of military force and the building of fortifications by the united states for the protection of the transit. the united states were to pay $ , , down on exchange of ratifications and an annuity of $ , , beginning nine years from the same date. it will be noticed that the united states enjoyed in the canal zone all the rights, though not the name and title, of sovereignty. the treaty was finally ratified on february , , and four days later the first isthmian canal commission, consisting of seven members, was appointed by president roosevelt to arrange for the conduct of the great enterprise. careful instructions were given to the commission. the isthmian canal commission were authorized and directed:-- first.--to make all needful rules and regulations for the government of the zone, and for the correct administration of the military, civil, and judicial affairs of its possessions until the close of the fifty-eighth session of congress. second.--to establish a civil service for the government of the strip and construction of the canal, appointments to which shall be secured as nearly as practicable by merit system. third.--to make, or cause to be made, all needful surveys, borings, designs, plans, and specifications of the engineering, hydraulic, and sanitary works required, and to supervise the execution of the same. fourth.--to make, and cause to be executed after due advertisement, all necessary contracts for any and all kinds of engineering and construction works. fifth.--to acquire by purchase or through proper and uniform expropriation proceedings, to be prescribed by the commission, any private lands or other real property whose ownership by the united states is essential to the excavation and completion of the canal. sixth.--to make all needful rules and regulations respecting an economical and correct disbursement and an accounting for all funds that may be appropriated by congress for the construction of the canal, its auxiliary works, and the government of the canal zone; and to establish a proper and comprehensive system of bookkeeping showing the state of the work, the expenditures by classes, and the amounts still available. seventh.--to make requisition on the secretary of war for funds needed from time to time in the proper prosecution of the work, and to designate the disbursing officers authorized to receipt for the same. the work of this commission was not wholly satisfactory, and in april another was appointed, which was ordered to meet at panama quarterly, the first commission having conducted its operations from washington. the first two and a half years of the american occupation were spent mainly in preparing for the great task. one very important question had now to be finally decided. the battle of the routes was over, and now began the battle of the levels. we have seen that the french began with the idea of a tide-level canal. the new panama canal company had changed to the lock or high-level plan, but the french had not advanced in their work to the point when the one or the other scheme must be definitively adopted. the excavation they had carried out was all available for either type of canal. but the americans had now to come to a decision. a few more words about the main physical features of the isthmus are necessary for the reader to understand the nature of the problem. the two most important factors in the problem, as we have seen, are, firstly, the river chagres with its tributaries, the trinidad, gatun, and twenty others; and, secondly, the range of low hills on the pacific side through which any canal from colon to panama must pass. the river chagres is a great mountain torrent which enters the caribbean sea a little west of colon. the canal follows its course inland for about miles, when the river valley turns sharply north-east and the canal continues straight on to the pacific. the chagres is not a river to be despised. the rainfall on the isthmus is very heavy, especially on the atlantic side, where inches per annum have been recorded. the isthmian rivers are all liable to quickly-swelling floods, the chagres at gamboa having been known to rise -½ feet in twenty-four hours. the two different types of canal involve equally different methods of dealing with this formidable stream. it must either be harnessed to the work or firmly and finally shut off from any interference with the canal. de lesseps, who had chosen the tide-level scheme, proposed to turn the chagres and other rivers into diversion channels, so that they could get safely to the sea without crossing the line of the canal or having any connection with it. this would have involved a work of excavation and construction scarcely less gigantic than the building of the canal itself. on the other plan, the chagres and its tributaries would be made the feeders of the upper reaches of the canal. so far from being politely shown off the premises, the question rather was whether they would be able to supply sufficient water all the year round for the needs of the canal. then this harnessing of the chagres meant the taming of its waters in a huge artificial lake, in which the impetuous current would be quenched and through which the dredged channel of the waterway would run. the new panama company had recommended the construction of a huge dam for this purpose at bohio towards the atlantic end of the canal, and this plan had been adopted by the first american isthmian commission, which issued its report in . i may add that the spooner act, which authorized the construction of a canal, also contemplated a lock or high-level waterway. as we shall see, bohio was not in the end adopted as the site of the big dam, but gatun, where it is now constructed, with its concrete spillway carrying away the overflow waters of the lake down the old chagres channel to the near atlantic. i need not say that these were two very different ways of "caring for" the chagres and its affluents. the tide-level canal would also, of course, be supplied with sea-water, while the high-level will be a fresh-water canal. colonel goethals, the chief engineer of the canal, anticipates rather a curious result from this latter circumstance. he thinks the bed of the upper reaches of the canal will in course of time be quite paved with the barnacles washed by the fresh-water from the bottoms of the great ocean-going vessels passing through the canal. the second physical feature is the hill country or the "continental divide" which the canal enters near the point where the chagres river crosses its course. here runs the famous culebra cut, the nine-mile-long artificial canyon, the biggest excavation in the world. now the highest elevation of these hills along the centre line of the canal was feet above sea-level. the bottom of the canal at the cutting is feet, so that the vertical depth of the cut on the centre line is feet. the engineers of the tide-level scheme would have had not only to excavate feet deeper--that is, to feet below sea-level--but to make the cutting immensely wider in order to avoid the danger of disastrous landslides. this would have meant an enormous amount of additional work, as well as expense. nevertheless, the controversy between the two principles was very warmly and equally sustained. it may be mentioned that mr. bunau-varilla was an especially ardent advocate of the tide-level scheme. in fact, he was not for calling the waterway a canal at all; he would have christened it "the straits of panama." however, a decision was necessary, and in a board of consulting or advisory engineers was appointed, mainly to consider whether the canal should be constructed at high-level or sea-level. five members were appointed by european governments, and the president was major-general george w. davis, formerly of the united states army. the instructions given to this board by president roosevelt will afford a very clear idea of the problem it had to solve:-- there are two or three considerations which i trust you will steadily keep before your minds in coming to a conclusion as to the proper type of canal. i hope that ultimately it will prove possible to build a sea-level canal. such a canal would undoubtedly be best in the end, if feasible; and i feel that one of the chief advantages of the panama route is that ultimately a sea-level canal will be a possibility. but while paying due heed to the ideal perfectibility of the scheme from an engineer's standpoint, remember the need of having a plan which shall provide for the immediate building of a canal on the safest terms and in the shortest possible time. if to build a sea-level canal will but slightly increase the risk, then, of course, it is preferable. but if to adopt the plan of a sea-level canal means to incur a hazard, and to insure indefinite delay, then it is not preferable. if the advantages and disadvantages are closely balanced, i expect you to say so. i desire also to know whether, if you recommend a high-level multi-lock canal, it will be possible, after it is completed, to turn it into or substitute for it, in time, a sea-level canal without interrupting the traffic upon it. two of the prime considerations to be kept steadily in mind are: first.--the utmost practicable speed of construction. second.--practical certainty that the plan proposed will be feasible; that it can be carried out with the minimum risk. the quantity of work and the amount of work should be minimized as far as possible. there may be good reason why the delay incident to the adoption of a plan for an ideal canal should be incurred; but if there is not, then i hope to see the canal constructed on a system which will bring to the nearest possible date in the future the time when it is practicable to take the first ship across the isthmus--that is, which will in the shortest time possible secure a panama waterway between the oceans of such a character as to guarantee permanent and ample communication for the greatest ships of our navy and for the larger steamers on either the atlantic or the pacific. the delay in transit of the vessels owing to additional locks would be of small consequence when compared with shortening the time for the construction of the canal or diminishing the risks in its construction. in short, i desire your best judgment on all the various questions to be considered in choosing among the various plans for a comparatively high-level multi-lock canal; for a lower level, with fewer locks; and for a sea-level canal. finally, i urge upon you the necessity of as great expedition in coming to a decision as is compatible with thoroughness in considering the conditions. the board went to the isthmus and investigated the subject with great care. in january they issued three reports. a majority of eight to five pronounced in favour of the sea-level scheme "as the only one giving reasonable assurance of safe and uninterrupted navigation." "such a canal," it said, "can be constructed in twelve or thirteen years' time; the cost will be less than $ , , ; it will endure for all time." the minority were just as confidently in favour of a high-level canal. they concluded:-- in view of the unquestioned fact that the lock canal herein advocated will cost about $ , , less than the proposed sea-level canal; believing that it can be built in much less time; that it will afford a better navigation; that it will be adequate for all its uses for a longer time, and can be enlarged, if need should arise, with greater facility and less cost, we recommend the lock canal at elevation for adoption by the united states. the third report was made by the chief engineer, mr. stevens, who, quite apart from all considerations of expense, was strongly in favour of the high-level plan. the three reports were considered by the canal commissioners, a majority of whom ultimately agreed with the minority of the advisory board. they admitted that a sea-level canal was ideally the best, but considered that the cost of making such a canal sufficiently wide would be prohibitive. they declared therefore for a lock canal at an elevation of feet above sea-level. they gave their decision thus:-- it appears that the canal proposed by the minority of the board of consulting engineers can be built in half the time and at a little more than half the cost of the canal proposed by the majority of the board, and that when completed it will be a better canal, for the following reasons: . it provides greater safety for ships and less danger of interruption to traffic by reason of its wider and deeper channels. . it provides quicker passage across the isthmus for large ships or a large traffic. . it is in much less danger of damage to itself or of delays to ships from the flood-waters of the chagres and other streams. . its cost of operation and maintenance, including fixed charges, will be less by some $ , , or more per annum. . it can be enlarged hereafter much more easily and cheaply than can a sea-level canal. . its military defence can be effected with as little or perhaps less difficulty than the sea-level canal. . it is our opinion that the plan proposed by the minority of the board of consulting engineers is a most satisfactory solution of an isthmian canal, and therefore we recommend that the plan of the minority be adopted. in february the president referred the question for final decision to congress. in his message on the subject he spoke thus:-- it must be borne in mind that there is no question of building what has been picturesquely termed "the straits of panama"--that is, a waterway through which the largest vessels could go with safety at uninterrupted high speed. both the sea-level canal and the proposed lock canal would be too narrow and shallow to be called with any truthfulness a strait, or to have any of the properties of a wide, deep water strip. both of them would be canals, pure and simple. each type has certain disadvantages and certain advantages. but, in my judgment, the disadvantages are fewer and the advantages very much greater in the case of a lock canal substantially as proposed in the papers forwarded herewith; and a careful study of the reports seems to establish a strong probability that the following are the facts: the sea-level canal would be slightly less exposed to damage in the event of war; the running expenses, apart from the heavy cost of interest on the amount employed to build it, would be less; and for small ships the time of transit would probably be less. on the other hand, the lock canal, at a level of feet or thereabouts, would not cost much more than half as much to build, and could be built in about half the time, while there would be very much less risk connected with building it, and for large ships the transit would be quicker; while, taking into account the interest on the amount saved in building, the actual cost of maintenance would be less. after being built, it would be easier to enlarge the lock canal than the sea-level canal. the law now on our statute books seems to contemplate a lock canal. in my judgment a lock canal as herein recommended is advisable. if the congress directs that a sea-level canal be constructed, its direction will, of course, be carried out. otherwise, the canal will be built on substantially the plan for a lock canal outlined in the accompanying papers, such changes being made, of course, as may be found actually necessary. in june congress finally decided for a high-level canal, and the controversy was officially closed. but the friends of the sea-level scheme were by no means silenced. whenever any serious difficulty occurred in the construction of the canal on the lock principle their voices were heard again. in fact, the conflict cannot be said to have ended until , and even then it is not certain that the sea-levellers modified their convictions. chapter ix. man and the gnat. almost at the beginning of their great task the americans were faced with a problem which involved the success or failure of the whole enterprise. i have said something about the climate and health conditions at the isthmus. it is fairly certain that yellow fever and malaria would have wrecked the french undertaking even if there had been no other obstacles to its success. it is not less probable that if the americans had been in no better a position to wage war with these plagues, their work at the isthmus would also have been in vain. the french had built excellent hospitals and provided efficiently for the comfort and recovery of those who were stricken with these diseases. but being totally ignorant of the sources and method of transmission of malaria and yellow fever, they could do nothing effectual in the way of prevention and eradication. they could only take the individual victim when they found him and do their best to cure him. they still believed that malaria was produced by climatic conditions, by marshy emanations, mists, and so forth. the fleecy clouds which gather round the isthmian hills in the rainy season were given the very undeserved title of "the white death" by the french workers at the isthmus. yellow fever, again, was just as mistakenly attributed to the climate, and especially to filthy ways of living. it is not surprising that, with these misconceptions, medical skill should have been almost useless during the french occupation, and that the employees at the isthmus should have died in their thousands. but since the days of the lesseps company, science had thrown a flood of light on the nature of these tropical scourges and the secret of their transmission. as these medical and scientific pioneers made a panama canal possible, though their names are not directly linked with its construction, we may look back for a few moments at their triumphs of discovery. the credit for first discovering that malaria is not due to poisonous emanations or contagion but is carried from people infected with the disease by the _anopheles_ mosquito belongs to major (now sir) ronald ross, formerly of the indian medical service, who devoted himself to this subject during the last years of the th century. by a series of experiments he proved that malaria is due to the presence in the human blood of an organism which is conveyed from person to person by this mosquito, and that the mosquito is harmless unless it has become infected with the germ by biting a person who has caught malaria. the value of this discovery was soon shown by practical applications. major ross was engaged by the suez canal company to deal with the malaria which had become firmly established at ismailia, a little town of , inhabitants on that canal. no fewer than , cases had been supplied in one year by this small population. the new methods founded on the new discovery proved so effectual that in three years the disease was stamped out, and there has been no relapse ever since. the same results were achieved at port said. now, if malaria is thus caused by mosquito bite, there was some _à priori_ reason for thinking that yellow fever might be transmitted in the same way. at any rate the insect was again laid under a very grave suspicion. the opportunity for studying this further question was afforded during the spanish-american war, when a serious outbreak occurred among the troops occupying havana, in cuba. the doctors were quite unable to deal with this most terrible of all diseases. knowing nothing whatever of its cause, their treatment of it could be only experimental and casual. so a board of inquiry was formed consisting of four army surgeons serving in cuba--walter reed, james carroll, jesse w. lazear, and aristides agramonte. the experiments were begun in june , and continued into the next year. of these four, dr. agramonte was not liable to the disease, and dr. reed was called away on duty to washington. the other two determined to experiment on their own persons rather than risk the lives of other people. dr. carroll first allowed himself to be bitten by the mosquitoes, not the _anopheles_ but another variety known as the _stegomyia_. he fell ill with a bad attack of yellow fever, which very nearly cost him his life. later, in the yellow fever hospital, dr. lazear deliberately allowed a mosquito to feed on his hand. in four days he was down with the disease in so acute a form that he died of it--a true martyr, if ever there was, to the cause of science and the welfare of mankind. these and other experiments proved conclusively that yellow fever, like malaria, is transmitted by mosquito bites, but it was still uncertain how soon after biting an infected person the mosquito becomes itself harmful and how soon a person stricken with malaria is able to infect a healthy mosquito. so further experiments were necessary, and volunteers were invited to offer themselves for this service. everybody in the army knew what had happened to doctors carroll and lazear, but in spite of this plenty of willing martyrs appeared. the first to present themselves were two young soldiers from ohio, john r. kissinger and john j. moran. dr. reed talked the matter over with them, explaining fully the danger and suffering involved, and stating the money consideration offered by general wood. both young men declared that they were prepared to undergo the experiment, but only on condition that they should receive no pecuniary reward. when he heard this declaration, dr. reed touched his hat with profound respect, saying, "gentlemen, i salute you!"[ ] kissinger took the disease from the mosquito bites, and recovered. a room was prepared for moran, a sort of mosquito den into which fifteen gnats, all suffering from yellow fever, had been admitted. major reed describes what happened:-- at noon on the same day, five minutes after the mosquitoes had been placed therein, a plucky ohio boy, moran by name, clad only in his night-shirt and fresh from a bath, entered the room containing the mosquitoes, where he lay down for a period of thirty minutes. within two minutes of moran's entrance he was being bitten about the face and hands by the insects, that had promptly settled down upon him. seven, in all, bit him at this visit. at . p.m. the same day, he again entered and remained twenty minutes, during which time five others bit him. the following day, at . p.m., he again entered and remained fifteen minutes, during which time three insects bit him; making the number fifteen that had fed at these three visits. on christmas morning, at a.m., this brave lad was stricken with yellow fever, and had a sharp attack, which he bore without a murmur. but still the demonstration was not complete. it was necessary to prove by equally undeniable evidence that yellow fever is not conveyed by contagion with the clothes and persons of infected people. these experiments were even more trying and heroic than those which preceded. a small wooden hut, by feet, was prepared, and into this was stored a large amount of bedding and clothes which had been used and worn by persons suffering from the fever. the building was carefully guarded against the intrusion of mosquitoes, and a temperature of seventy-six degrees, with a sufficient moisture, maintained. for twenty consecutive days dr. clarke and his men went into this room, handled, wore, and slept in the contaminated clothing, although the stench was so offensive as to be almost appalling. they emerged from the ordeal in perfect health, proving beyond possibility of dispute that the disease was not contagious, and that the mosquito was the sole method of transmission. when distributing the credit for the new channel of world-traffic through the isthmus of panama, let us not forget dr. lazear who sacrificed his life and the many others who cheerfully risked their lives to establish truths and facts without which the construction and continued operation of the canal would almost certainly have been impossible. one mosquito may look very much like another, but the _stegomyia_ and the _anopheles_ differ in many important respects. the latter finds its most favourable breeding-places in stagnant pools of fresh water, such as are left by the heavy rains of the isthmus. it is essentially a gnat of the country-side. the _stegomyia_, on the other hand, inclines to a more frivolous town life. cisterns and tanks and other receptacles for storing water are his favourite haunts. in length of life and power of flight the species also differ, though these details are not yet fully ascertained. the _stegomyia_ is said to live three months. dr. cornish states that it becomes dangerous only by attacking man during the first three days of yellow fever, and that, even then, twelve days elapse before its bite is infectious. six days after a man has been bitten by an infected _stegomyia_ he falls ill with yellow fever, and for the next three days he is capable of transmitting it to the healthy mosquito. mr. bishop informs us that if there is no fresh case of yellow fever within a period of sixty days after the latest one in an epidemic, it is a safe conclusion that the disease has been stamped out, because there is no mosquito alive to carry the parasite. after a period of ninety days all doubt on the subject is removed.[ ] if a community, therefore, which has thus got rid of its last case of yellow fever could be completely isolated, yellow fever could never possibly return. it could only be reintroduced from outside. it should be possible, with a proper system of sanitation and quarantine, to free any district entirely from this awful scourge. the case of the _anopheles_ and his little contribution to human suffering is very different. whereas the victim of yellow fever either dies or gets better and quickly ceases to be a source of infection to the mosquito, the victim of malaria seldom dies of the disease, but he remains infectious to the _anopheles_ for three years. the disease does not simply attack new-comers or white people. natives of the isthmus and the west indies are subject to it, and, indeed, seem to be in a chronically malarious condition. it is said that per cent. of the population of the isthmus were found in - to have the parasite of malaria in their systems. it is difficult to estimate or imagine the part played by this widespread malady on conditions of life and civilization within the tropics. sir ronald ross, the greatest living authority on the subject, made some interesting remarks in an address at the royal colonial institute in january of this year. he said:-- nothing has been more carefully studied of recent years than the existence of malaria amongst indigenous populations. it often affects every one of the children, probably kills a large proportion of the new-born infants, and renders the survivors ill for years; only a partial immunity in adult life relieves them of the incessant sickness. here in europe nearly all our children suffer from certain diseases--measles, scarlatina, and so on. but these maladies are short and slight compared with the enduring infection of malaria. when i was studying malaria in greece in , i was struck with the impossibility of conceiving that the people who are now intensely afflicted with malaria could be like the ancient greeks who did so much for the world; and i therefore suggested the hypothesis that malaria could only have entered greece at about the time of the great persian wars. one can scarcely imagine that the physically fine race and the magnificent athletes figured in greek sculpture could ever have spent a malarious and splenomegalous childhood. and, conversely, it is difficult to imagine that many of the malarious natives in the tropics will ever rise to any great height of civilization while that disease endures amongst them. i am aware that africa has produced some magnificent races, such as those of the zulus and masai, but i have heard that the countries inhabited by them are not nearly so disease-ridden as many of the larger tracts. at all events, whatever may be the effect of a malarious childhood upon the physique of adult life, its effects on the mental development must certainly be very bad, while the disease always paralyzes the material prosperity of the country where it exists in an intense form. the isthmus of panama was beautifully adapted to the breeding of the _anopheles_ and the widest dissemination of malaria. in fact, the canal zone taken over by the americans was perhaps the most malarial strip of territory in the world. the heavy rains leave the country covered with those marshes and pools from which these little ghostly insects are always rising in swarms, ready to carry the germs of disease from the sick to the healthy and thus perpetuate and extend the domain of this distressing malady. the reader will notice that, as the yellow fever victim is only infectious to the mosquito for three days, while the malarial person can convey the poison for three years, it is a much more practical problem to eradicate yellow fever than to stamp out malaria. it is true the causes of malaria are now fully known and the only effective methods of propagation ascertained. if one could isolate all malarial patients, including all who are capable of transmitting the disease, in buildings screened with fine copper-gauze to keep out the mosquitoes and thus gradually diminish the area of infection to vanishing point, it would not be necessary to deal with the breeding-places of the mosquitoes, and man and the gnat might live together in perfect amity. but with fifty and even seventy per cent. of the people malarially infected, such a heroic course is obviously impossible, and one can hope only to diminish to a considerable degree the prevalence of the disease. the first two and a half years of the american occupation of the isthmus was spent in looking round and preparing for the great work. it soon became evident that the most pressing and immediate task was one of cleaning up and sanitation. in july , colonel w. c. gorgas, whose name will always be associated with the triumphs won over disease at the isthmus, became the head of the department of sanitation under the canal commission. he quickly recognized that everything depended on the efficiency and success of his own department. "the experience of our predecessors," he wrote, "was ample to convince us that unless we could protect our force against yellow fever and malaria we would be unable to accomplish the work."[ ] when the americans took over, yellow fever, though present, was quiescent, but the figures began almost at once to mount up. in december there were six cases on the isthmus and one death. in january there were nineteen cases and eight deaths, seven and one respectively among the canal employees. in may there were thirty-three cases, twenty-two on the canal, with seven deaths in all, including three employees. in june there was an alarming advance. sixty-two cases occurred on the isthmus, thirty-four of them among the employees. there were nineteen deaths, six on the canal. something like a panic then set in among the americans engaged on the canal works. many threw up their positions, and the homeward-bound steamers were filled with employees fleeing from this real "yellow peril." in the annual report of the commission for we read:-- a feeling of alarm, almost amounting to panic, spread among the americans on the isthmus. many resigned their positions to return to the united states, while those who remained became possessed with a feeling of lethargy or fatalism, resulting from a conviction that no remedy existed for the peril. there was a disposition to partly ignore or openly condemn all preventive measures. the gravity of the crisis was apparent to all. this loss of moral tone was the most dangerous symptom of all. a feeling of "let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die" gained possession of the canal workers, and in the indifference of despair many tore down the nettings over the windows of the canal building and began to neglect all the sanitary precautions enjoined on them by the department. evidently a calamity was in prospect which would have brought to an end, perhaps for ever, american canal ambitions at the isthmus. the restoration of public confidence and sense of responsibility seems to have been due largely to mr. charles e. magoon, governor of the canal zone. he set himself to rebuke and remove the morbid bravado then prevailing. "he began by frankly and publicly declaring that he, personally, was afraid of the fever, and that in his opinion all non-immunes who professed not to be afraid were 'talking rot!' then he ordered all the window-screens to be repaired and kept in place, and announced that if any man was caught leaving them open or tearing holes in them, something uncommonly unpleasant would happen to him. now when a man of judge magoon's mental and physical stature admits that he is afraid, any lesser man is a fool to say he isn't; and when a man of judge magoon's resolution gives an order and prescribes a penalty for its violation, that order is very likely to be obeyed."[ ] [illustration: _clinedinst--washington, d.c._ col. william c. gorgas, medical dept., u.s. army, head of the department of sanitation, ancon.] governor magoon arrived at the isthmus in may , just as the yellow fever epidemic was reaching its climax. from that moment he and colonel gorgas, to whom he gave the most complete support, set themselves to fight the fever. the first thing to do was to get all the patients within screened buildings, whether the hospital or their own homes, so that no _stegomyia_ mosquitoes could saunter in and take the poison. then the towns of colon and panama were handed over to a campaign of spring-cleaning such as the world has never witnessed. then the canal building was thoroughly fumigated with pyrethrum powder or sulphur, and not simply the official building but every single house in the city of panama was similarly disinfected. dust and refuse were everywhere burnt. a very efficient system of inspection was adopted, and a rigid quarantine enforced against all foreign places whence the yellow plague could be imported into the zone. but more important than the immediate expedients were the more permanent sanitary improvements carried out in colon and panama. these towns were repaired with brick or cement, and provided with what they had never yet enjoyed, a proper system of drainage. waterworks were also constructed outside the towns, and a supply of pure water made available for every household. hitherto water had had to be stored during the dry season in tanks and cisterns, in which the _stegomyia_ mosquito revelled exceedingly. these were now no longer necessary, and stagnant water, wherever it collected in the town, was drained away. in order to expedite these splendid reforms, governor magoon withdrew the workers from the canal and concentrated all efforts on the sewers and waterworks. so speedily was the work carried forward that the water was turned on for public use from the main in the cathedral plaza on july . the results of this drastic campaign were soon apparent in the dwindling of the yellow fever returns. in july there were still forty-two cases and thirteen deaths on the isthmus, with twenty-seven cases and ten deaths among the employees. august showed a great improvement, with twenty-seven cases and nine deaths on the isthmus, and twelve cases and only one death on the canal. the improvement continued through september, october, november, and in december only one case was reported on the isthmus and one on the canal. three months having elapsed since the last case, and, therefore, every _stegomyia_ which could possibly be infected with malaria having departed this life, the epidemic was entirely past and over. as i have pointed out, there cannot possibly be any return of it under these conditions unless the infection is brought from without. and if any new cases are at once isolated and screened from afternoon calls of the mosquito, the outbreak may be easily and infallibly suppressed. we may say, therefore, that the yellow spectre at the isthmus has been shorn of all its terrors. malaria is, however, a very different proposition. a corresponding crusade has been carried on for six years against the little _anopheles_ gnat, the little criminal who carries the malarial poison. his happy breeding-grounds are in open country marshes and pools, and there is no lack of these in the canal zone. it was impossible to deal with the entire three-quarters of a million acres of that territory, but wherever the canal workers were settled determined war was waged against the mosquitoes. it should be remembered that the _anopheles_ can fly only about a hundred or two hundred yards. the jungle was therefore cleared away for a few hundred yards round each village and settlement, marshes and pools in this area were drained off, and into all the ditches where stagnant water had collected oil was poured, which so effectually turns the mosquito's stomach that it never recovers. some , acres of the zone were thus treated, and of course the regulations as to house-screening applied to malaria no less than to yellow fever. the employees were also supplied freely and generously with quinine. the result has been not the eradication of malaria, but the reduction of the cases to about one-third the number at which they stood in . yet even so, among the , employees on the canal during the year ending june , , there were , malaria cases in the hospitals, with deaths, of these being white people. the heavy rainfalls at the isthmus will probably prevent the complete sanitation of the country in this respect, for the simple reason that the destruction of the _anopheles_ mosquito or the eradication of the malarial germ can never be complete. there will always be people going about with the malarial organism in their blood, and always _anopheles_ mosquitoes ready to become infected with it and to carry the infection about. but, as we have seen, much can be done by the means described to reduce the ravages of the disease. in , out of a working force of , , there were , cases of malaria. we have seen how this figure had been brought down in . in it was almost certain that any white person coming to reside at the isthmus would catch malaria. now it is quite possible to live there in perfect health, quite free from any malarial infection. it may be useful to mention that the entire death-roll among the employees on the panama canal and railway from the american occupation down to june , --that is, about eight years--was , , of whom were americans. of this total, , died of disease and , from violence or accident. during the same period american women and american children died.[ ] sir ronald ross, as i have said, was told by the british consul at panama in that the french lost in the nine years of their occupancy some , lives, principally from malaria and yellow fever. this may be an over-estimate, but there is no doubt that the american figure shows an enormous improvement on the french. it is easy to conclude that what has been done in sanitation at the isthmus of panama may be done anywhere else in the tropics, where malaria and yellow fever prevail. that may be true, but we must also remember that the work of panama had behind it all the wealth and resources of a mighty republic of , , citizens. the expenditure on these hygienic purposes at the isthmus has been enormous, though not a penny has been wasted. down to the end of december, , the total outlay of the department of sanitation was $ , , . waterworks, sewers, etc., accounted for another $ , , , so that we get a grand total expenditure on sanitation of $ , , . this will certainly rise to $ , , before the canal is finished, so that for the ten and a half years of its construction there will have been an annual expenditure for all health purposes of $ , , . it is not likely that there will be many tropical areas of this kind with so large a sum available for the luxury of scientific sanitation. again, it must be noticed that the administration had special advantages at the isthmus. it exercised something like military authority. it had absolute powers of deportation, and could enforce its regulations as it pleased. and in considering the statistics it must also be borne in mind that not only the physical but the moral and mental health of the work-people at the isthmus was promoted in every way. we shall look into the life of the panama construction camps in the next chapter. the social interest and amusement provided for the employee must have counted for something beside the sewering and screening and mosquito-hunting. all the same, the success achieved at panama is full of hope and promise for tropical life in the future. colonel gorgas writes encouragingly:-- i think the sanitarian can now show that any population coming into the tropics can protect itself against these two diseases (malaria and yellow fever) by measures that are both simple and inexpensive; that with these two diseases eliminated life in the tropics for the anglo-saxon will be more healthful than in the temperate zones; that gradually, within the next two or three centuries, tropical countries, which offer a much greater return for man's labour than do the temperate zones, will be settled up by the white races, and that again the centres of wealth, civilization, and population will be in the tropics, as they were in the dawn of man's history, rather than in the temperate zone, as at present. apart from the question of disease, it is far from certain that the white man can ever remain as "fit," as capable of bodily labour, in equatorial regions as in his native temperate conditions, or that his descendants will also maintain the same standard of health and strength. ordinary non-professional opinion would perhaps discount colonel gorgas's forecast as a little too optimistic. footnotes: [ ] "sanitation of the isthmus." mr. j. b. bishop in _scribner's monthly_, february . [ ] _scribner's monthly_, february , p. . [ ] _journal american medical association_, july , . [ ] "four centuries of the panama canal." [ ] see _scribner's magazine_, february , p. . chapter x. life at the isthmus. before we go on to describe the canal and its method of construction, we must look at the sort of social life and civil administration which has prevailed since the americans arrived. construction camps in tropical climes are not usually distinguished for order and good morals. the americans determined to make an exception at panama. they had a perfectly free hand and the enjoyment of all sovereign rights at the isthmus, and were able to construct a brand-new little state on the most approved and ideal principles. we have seen what instructions were given by president roosevelt to the first commission. an entire administrative system had to be established within this little plot miles wide and long. laws had to be framed and civil government established, with all the needful accessories of judicial courts, police force, fire-brigades, customs and revenue service, post-offices, public works and financial department. the administration carried what is known as "paternalism" to all lengths. that is, it did all the catering and providing itself, and left little or nothing to private companies. of course, everything had to be imported, for the little territory itself produced nothing. whole villages and settlements with all the accessories of social life had to be built along the line of works. over , structures, including offices, hospitals, hotels, messes, kitchens, shops, storehouses, and living quarters, were constructed, and more than , buildings taken over from the french, which were made available by necessary repairs. colonel goethals gives us a brief insight into the work of the commissary department of the panama railroad:-- the commissary department of the panama railroad company was enlarged until it is now [ ] a great department store, supplying to the employees whatever may be necessary for their comfort and convenience. manufacturing, cold-storage, and laundry plants were established, and turn out each day about tons of ice, , loaves of bread, , rolls, gallons of ice-cream, , pounds of roasted coffee, and , pieces of laundry. four or five refrigerator cars, loaded with meats, vegetables, and such fruits as can be obtained, are sent out on the night freight to distant points, and every morning a supply train of about cars, of which number six to eight are refrigerator cars, leaves cristobal at . to distribute foodstuffs and laundry to the local commissaries along the line, where the employees make their purchases, and where the hotels, messes, and kitchens secure their supplies for the day. a graphic and representative picture of one of the construction settlements along the canal was given by the correspondent of _the times_ at panama.[ ] he chose "emperador," or "empire," as the typical village. this is the headquarters of the central division of the construction work, and is situated about halfway along the great culebra cut. the correspondent writes:-- according to the census just completed, it contains , inhabitants, of whom , are whites, , negroes, , mestizos, chinese, and east indians. north of the main street is a section called the "native town," apparently because it is inhabited by natives of other countries than panama, but really because here was situated the native hamlet alongside which the french built their construction camp in . it is occupied by the part of the population not employed by the government, and here are the american saloons, the spanish _cantinas_ and restaurants, chinese shops, east indian fancy-work shops, and negro tailoring and shoemaking places. on the south side of the american settlement are the labour "camps," consisting of barracks and eating-places. all the buildings are of wood, constructed to last not over ten years; and none are large, excepting the administration buildings and the club-house. on three sides of the village are the huts of the labourers who prefer the half-jungle life with its freedom; and here, with discomfort and squalor and liberty, is the only picturesque part of the settlement; all else is orderly, of one pattern, almost smug. on the fourth side the village is limited by the canal itself. in the centre of the village is the commissariat, where the canal and railroad workers buy their food and clothing. here congregate every morning the housewives of the village to do their shopping, and at night, after work, the men, to complete the family purchases. there is a similar store in each canal village--eighteen in all. the commissariat does away with the middleman's profit and buys in such large quantities, and for cash, that it obtains the lowest prices, while the many ways in which the materials purchased can be used prevent waste. if there is cause for complaint on the part of any class in the canal workers, that class is the bachelors, for they are discriminated against in the matter of quarters. but good provision is made for their meals, at the so-called "hotels" for the white employees, and the messes and kitchens for spanish and negro labourers. another remarkable evidence of how the canal administration stands _in loco parentis_ to all its work-people is that it has provided twenty-six churches and maintains fifteen ministers of religion. this is interesting because it shows how the state, when conducted on common-sense principles, may provide for religious instruction without causing any offence or inflicting any injustice. the administration treated all denominations with perfect impartiality. of the fifteen ministers it supported, four were episcopalian, four baptist, three roman catholic, one wesleyan, and one presbyterian. but this was not the entire provision of churches and chapels on the isthmus. there were fourteen other churches not under direct government control, but assisted by the government in many ways. of the forty in all, thirteen were episcopalian, seven baptist, seven roman catholic, two wesleyan, and eight undenominational. as i have pointed out, the moral sanitation of the isthmus was cared for as well as the physical. for example, in september , a man living in the canal zone was charged with running a roulette table. he pleaded that he owned a concession from the republic of panama. that excuse was not allowed, and he was sentenced to fine and imprisonment for transgressing one of the canal zone laws. gambling, which had always been one of the panamanian vices, was quite forbidden within the zone. remembering the descriptions given of the state of morals at the isthmus during the french occupation, one cannot help being struck with the contrast afforded by the american regime. criticisms of the canal scheme, of climatic and social conditions in the zone, appeared in the early days from time to time. mr. johnson quotes an example which is so amusing as to bear repetition:-- a land as feverish to the imagination as to the body is panama. it is a land making a fitting environment to the deeds of conspiracy, piracy, loot, cruelty, and blood that have principally made its history for centuries. this gloomy, god-forsaken isthmus is a nightmare region. one descriptive writer has truly said of it that it is a land where the flowers have no odour, the birds no song; where the men are without honour and the women without virtue. he is not far wrong. the birds, brilliant as is their plumage, have no musical notes. the dense forests teem with bright-hued parrots, parroquets, and other birds, which squeak and scream but do not sing. there are beautiful orchids to be found in the swamps and jungles--fair to look upon, but they have no odour. the oranges have green skins instead of golden, the plantains must be fried to make them fit to eat, the reptiles and insects are often venomous, and myriads of parasites are ever ready to invade the human body and bring disease and death. in the atmosphere itself is something suggestive of the days of the old pirates and their fiendish cruelties and orgies. there is no life in the air; it is depressing, damp, miasmatic, and intensely hot. for a great part of the year thunder-showers succeed each other all day long and half the night, with sheet lightning all around the horizon after dark. there is practically no twilight, day passing almost instantly into night. it is no wonder that this uncanny land has made its residents degenerate into plotters, revolutionists, murderers, and thieves. its aspect is one of darkness, treachery, and curse. president roosevelt had something to say on these recurring criticisms in a message to congress in january . he wrote:-- from time to time various publications have been made, and from time to time in the future various similar publications, doubtless, will be made, purporting to give an account of jobbing or immorality or inefficiency or misery as obtaining on the isthmus. i have carefully examined into each of these accusations which seemed worthy of attention. in every instance the accusations have proved to be without foundation in any shape or form. they spring from several sources. sometimes they take the shape of statements by irresponsible investigators of a sensational habit of mind, incapable of observing or repeating with accuracy what they see, and desirous of obtaining notoriety by widespread slander. more often they originate with or are given currency by individuals with a personal grievance. the sensation mongers, both those who stay at home and those who visit the isthmus, may ground their accusations on false statements by some engineer who, having applied for service on the commission and been refused such service, now endeavours to discredit his successful competitors, or by some lessee or owner of real estate who has sought action or inaction by the commission to increase the value of his lots, and is bitter because the commission cannot be used for such purposes, or on the tales of disappointed bidders for contracts, or of office-holders who have proved incompetent, or who have been suspected of corruption and dismissed, or who have been overcome by panic and have fled from the isthmus. every specific charge relating to jobbery, to immorality, or to inefficiency, from whatever source it has come, has been immediately investigated, and in no single instance have the statements of these sensation mongers and the interested complainants behind them proved true. the only discredit adhering to these false accusations is to those who originate and give them currency, and who, to the extent of their abilities, thereby hamper and obstruct the completion of the great work in which both the honour and the interest of america are so deeply involved. it matters not whether those guilty of these false accusations utter them in mere wanton recklessness and folly, or in a spirit of sinister malice to gratify some personal or political grudge. the soundness and purity of the canal zone administration has long ago been established beyond all question and cavil. the americans have given an example to the world how a great work of this kind, involving the gathering together of a large multitude of workers from many races and nations, may be carried on without those moral and physical evils which have marked too many enterprises of the kind. in fact, the way in which the americans have arranged and controlled the life of the canal zone stands quite as much to their credit as the skill and determination they have shown in the actual construction of the canal. but we have said nothing yet about the workers themselves on the canal. the americans, on taking over the work from the french, found about west indian negroes engaged in excavating the culebra cut. from this contingent as a nucleus a much larger army of workers was built up. the numbers rapidly grew. in december there were , employees; in , , ; in , , ; the highest figure being reached in , when there were , workers available for duty. of the employees, speaking roughly, one-seventh have been white americans, all, of course, skilled workers, one-seventh european labourers, and five-sevenths west indian negroes. the british west indies, especially barbados, have continued to be the main source of labour supply. but the west indian at the outset left a great deal to be desired in his work and efficiency. in complaints were made on the subject by the chairman of the canal commission to the president of the united states. in the chief engineer reported:-- the criticisms of the character of the common labour which were made in last year's report still hold good. our labour consists almost entirely of west indian negroes, and their efficiency is very low, although we have a few of this class who are fairly steady workers--by this it is meant that they average to work all the time, but the great body of them do not. the majority work just long enough to get money to supply their actual bodily necessities, with the result that, while we are quartering and caring for twenty odd thousand of these people, our daily effective force is many thousands less. preliminary steps have been taken toward securing a large number of spanish labourers direct from the north-west provinces of spain, also for the securing of a trial shipment of cantonese chinese, as it is believed that the introduction of labourers of different nationalities will be beneficial. the chinese project was frustrated through the influence of trade unions in the united states, backed up by representations from the pacific coast states. the west indian labourer quickly began to earn a better report. it was found that his inefficiency was largely due to insufficient and improper food. he speedily improved when turned on to the generous and nourishing diet provided in the zone. in order to be certain that he had the full advantage of the provided meals, the price of them was very wisely deducted from his wages. moreover, the american foremen soon began to learn that the men from barbados, trinidad, and elsewhere were british subjects and could not be treated as though they were southern state "coons." with a better understanding and more sympathetic treatment of the black employees, much more work was got out of them, and a good deal of the credit for the building of the panama canal is due to the , workers[ ] who have been recruited mainly from the british islands in the west indies. but the southern european contingent has been found to be excellent material. it was thought that the work-people of spain, italy, and greece would take more easily to navvying work in the tropics than people from more northerly regions of the temperate zone. the results were, on the whole, satisfactory. the greeks were, it is true, not equal to the italians or the spaniards, and very few of them were recruited for canal work. the italians, also, though several thousands of them were engaged, proved rather hard to handle. they were bitten with collectivist ideas, and inclined to act on trade union lines. the spaniard was, in every way, the most satisfactory workman introduced from europe. he was taken in an unsophisticated state directly from his village in galicia or castile. he was tractable and orderly, and quick and ready to learn. hard labour under the tropical sun and in the hot damp of the isthmus seemed to have no exhausting or enervating influence whatever upon him. the spaniard shows no sign of settling down on the isthmus. he either goes home with his savings or on to railway work in brazil. some , have been directly recruited, but this number does not include all the spanish labourers whose muscle has helped to the completion of this great work. a word or two should be said about the wages earned on the canal. the west indian recruit was offered -½d. an hour for common labour and an eight-hour day, in addition to free quarters, medical care, and repatriation. meals were supplied to him at the rate of s. -½d. per day. later the pay of all not under contract was reduced to d. per hour, and the price of the three meals to s. -½d. negro artisans, such as carpenters, masons, blacksmiths and others, of whom there were some , employed in connection with the canal works, received pay varying from d. to d. per hour. there were in , negro artisans receiving d. an hour or more, while received s. an hour, and the work was constant. the european labourer, in addition to free quarters, received $ . per eight-hour day, and more for overtime work. he was charged cents a day for his three meals, which left him a minimum net wage per day of $ . , or a little less than thirty shillings a week. many, however, received more, and a good number of spanish work-people must have gone home with a nice little nest-egg in their pockets. the skilled labour was done almost entirely by united states employees, though the "gold roll," as it was called, included at first some europeans. the pay was excellent, the social life, with its gymnasia, billiard-rooms, concerts and so forth, attractive, and the commissariat, with its three good meals at a fixed charge, quite up to the standard of a good hotel. the billets on the isthmus were therefore popular, and about , americans on an average have been in employment there. as i have pointed out, the responsibility for the construction of the canal was vested in the president of the united states, who acted through an executive commission resident in the canal zone. the work was organized in a large number of departments, each responsible for a big task. these were excavation and dredging; locks and dams; machinery and buildings (also responsible for paving and other improvements in colon and panama); labour, subsistence, and quarters; material and supplies; sanitation (responsible also for hygiene in panama and colon, which towns are technically outside the zone); civil administration; the panama railroad. there were also some smaller divisions, such as accounts and an office of a purchasing officer in washington, nearly all the supplies for the canal being obtained in the united states. it should be added that the republic of panama is responsible for the policing of the two big towns, but the department of civil administration of the panama canal commission employed police, of which were native west indians. this busy hive of labour will soon present a very different aspect. with the approach of the canal to completion the numbers of the workmen will gradually be reduced. a drastic process of sifting and selection will be carried out among the americans employed on the works. only about , men will be necessary to operate the canal, when it is in full working order. these will be established at the locks and other important points. in fact, the canal authorities recommend a complete depopulation of the isthmus except, of course, the terminal cities and the operating stations on the canal. otherwise, they think, a large expense for sanitation will be necessary which might thus be avoided. but the question of defence must not be forgotten. it will certainly be found advisable to maintain a pretty large american garrison at the isthmus, and to the population we have mentioned perhaps even , american troops must be added. the busy scenes still prevailing in the canal zone will now soon have disappeared like a dream, and the future traveller who looks from the ship-rail over the shining waters of gatun lake or beyond to the vast and silent tropical forest will have difficulty in reconstructing the spectacle which the narrow lands presented during the ten strenuous years of construction. footnotes: [ ] _the times_, september , . [ ] this is the figure of official recruiting. very many more came to the isthmus of their own accord. chapter xi. the problem of construction. we may now begin to consider the canal itself, the problems which its designers had to solve, the methods of construction, and the features of the completed work. as we have seen, the first two and a half years were a time mainly of preparation for the titanic enterprise of excavation and construction. in fact, it might have been better if the work during that period had been entirely restricted to scavenging, sewering, and so forth. the labourers were hurried a little too fast to the isthmus, before the isthmus was properly cleaned up to receive them. hence the yellow fever panic and difficulties which might have been avoided. the people of the united states were responsible for this over-haste at the start. the great thing, they cried, is to "make the dirt fly." they wanted evidence that the steam-navvies were actually at work in the bed of the canal and that the task was well in hand. in fact, the public at home took an interest in the canal operations which was sometimes embarrassing. some newspaper man at the isthmus would report an accident or unforeseen difficulty, probably with a good deal of exaggeration, an anxious excitement sprang up among the people, and special commissions had to go to the isthmus in order to investigate the true state of affairs and if possible restore confidence at home. as the reader knows, the americans had no clean slate on which to write at panama. they succeeded two french companies which had been at work for twenty years. true, the new panama canal company which succeeded the lesseps company had not greatly perspired over the undertaking. it had kept a certain amount of work going, chiefly in order to maintain its concession. all the same, the french had ploughed a pretty deep furrow between colon and panama, and much of the work they had done was fortunately available whichever type of canal should be adopted, high-level or tide-level. they had carried out a good deal of dredging for the channel through the tidal flats at either end of the canal, and they had made a very visible impression on the "continental divide" at what is known as the culebra cut. altogether the french companies excavated , , cubic yards. the americans inherited from their predecessors a large amount of machinery and tools, in addition to a great deal of work well done. much of the machinery, even of the lesseps company, was found to be in serviceable condition, and operations could be continued with it, though the extent and efficiency of the plant was, of course, as time went on, greatly increased. the main problem which the american engineers had to solve was how to deal with the chagres river. on the tide-level scheme, that violent and capricious stream, which in the rainy season was navigable for half its length of miles, would have had to be diverted into another channel or ponded back in its upper waters by a high dam at gamboa, some of the overflow of which might perhaps have been permitted to pass into the canal. but, as we have seen, the chagres would have to be utilized and at the same time controlled if the high-level plan was adopted. a river which is capable of rising -½ feet in twenty-four hours needed a great deal of regulation and discipline before it could be used as the feeder of the upper reaches of a lock canal. the only way to do this was to diffuse its waters over a vast artificial lake which it would keep full, but in which its floods and current would be effectually tamed. this could only be done by a huge dam intercepting the course of the river in its lower reaches, at some point before it entered the caribbean sea. when the new panama canal company changed its plans and decided for an elevated waterway, it was intended to construct such a barrier at bohio, a point much higher up stream than gatun, the site ultimately chosen by the american engineers. the isthmian canal commission which reported in , also arranged for a dam at bohio to control the chagres river. on this plan the river would have been intercepted much higher up, and the artificial lake would have been much smaller. but when the americans finally decided on the high-level type in , the site of the proposed dam was shifted from bohio to gatun, nearer the river's mouth, which involved the inundation of a much vaster area of country. this position for the dam was first suggested by a french engineer, godin de lépinay, who, in a paper read before the congress of engineers in paris in , advocated a lock canal with a dam controlling the chagres river at gatun. this, then, was the biggest problem peculiar to the high-level scheme, for the cutting through the "continental divide," though an even more titanic labour, would have had to be accomplished whatever type of canal had been adopted. no feature of the construction has been subject to so much criticism and anxious solicitude as this gatun dyke. on it depends the maintenance of gatun lake and the supply of water for the canal. if the dam fails, everything fails. the real cause of the difficulty was the foundation upon which this big artificial hill had to be laid. the great dam at assouan in egypt is based upon the eternal granite, upon which masonry of natural stone is built. it is, therefore, part and parcel of the solid framework of our planet, and will probably last as long. the gatun dam is, however, founded upon the alluvial deposits of the chagres river. this alluvium consists of gravel firmly cemented with mud and clay, and is unquestionably water-tight. these deposits go down in places to a depth of feet before the solid rock is reached. the dam had, therefore, to be laid down on the top of them. now this foundation, though water-tight, is soft. it would have been impossible to place upon it a massive structure of rock or concrete. the deposits would have given way under its weight. the only plan was to dump down in the valley an earthen dam, making it very broad so as to distribute the weight over as large a space as possible of the alluvium underneath. a steep slope would have been impossible, for the weight of the central portion would have pushed the clay and gravel outwards, and the whole mass would have subsided. the earth-dam was to block the valley through which the chagres had hitherto flowed uninterruptedly to the sea. this valley is a mile and a half wide, and this is, therefore, the length of the dam. its base is , feet wide. it is feet through at the surface of the water, feet wide at the top, and was to be feet above sea-level. the last figure has, it seems, been brought down to feet, which will be an advantage, as the weight upon the foundations will be proportionately less. in the middle of the dam the level of the lake is controlled by a channel called the "spillway," with walls and floor of concrete, by which the surplus waters will be sluiced off into the old bed of the chagres river and so passed on to the sea. the entrance to this channel is closed with falling gates or doors. this safety-valve will no doubt be capable of dealing with the biggest and quickest rise of the lake-level that is ever likely to take place. it can pass off , cubic feet of water a second, the water issuing at a speed of feet a second. but, to complete the security, the big culverts of the mighty gatun locks close by can be turned open, and , cubic feet a second carried off there. indeed, as regards the gatun lake the anxiety, if there be any, is that the water-supply will be insufficient rather than dangerously excessive. the level of the lake is to be kept at feet above mean sea-level--that is, the dam, or a considerable length of it, will be exposed to what is called a "head" of water of feet. the lake itself will be square miles in extent. there have been many rational anxieties on the sufficiency of the dam. a certain american senator, however, who visited the works during the construction, worried himself rather unnecessarily on this last figure. colonel goethals was showing a congressional delegation round the works, and in the course of the survey they came to the dam with the broad expanse of water behind it. "colonel," he said, "how is it that so small a body of earth as the gatun dam can hold in check such a tremendous body of water as the gatun lake?" the chief engineer explained that the pressure of a body of water is determined by its height and not by its volume. the inquirer seems not to have been satisfied with the statement of this hydrostatic law. senator knox, afterwards secretary of state, then came to his aid. "senator," he said, "if your theory were true, how could the dykes of holland hold in check the atlantic ocean?" this was a clincher, and the sceptic joined in the laugh at his own expense. all the same, the gatun dam has two extremely responsible and heavy duties to perform. it has to withstand the horizontal thrust of a head of feet of water so as not to be carried bodily down the chagres bed into the atlantic. and it has to block up the valley so effectually that the water of the lake shall not percolate through at any point. there is every reason to believe that, in spite of all alarums and excursions during its construction, it will fulfil both these requirements. its composition and construction may be briefly described. two bulwarks of big rocky fragments were built up on either outer line or "toe" of the structure. this rough material was obtained from the lock site, or mindi, or the culebra cut twenty-six miles away. the area between these piles is filled with silt, and water pumped into it by hydraulic dredges from the chagres valley. the surplus water is carried off through pipes. the sodden silt remains and is packed down and consolidated by atmospheric pressure. such a "hydraulic fill" is impervious to water, the thrust or "head" of which is very quickly lost in the minute interstices or pores of the material. it will be seen how such a structure differs from a dam of concrete or stone masonry. it is porous, while at the same time impervious to water. the future traveller through the panama canal will probably never guess the immensity of the labour that has gone to the building of the gatun dam. already, indeed, it looks so much like a part of the natural landscape that it might well escape special observation altogether. yet nothing less than , , cubic yards of material were laid down--enough to make a wall of earth three feet high and three feet thick reaching nearly halfway round the world. the spillway itself contains , cubic yards of concrete. it will be noticed that in the dam proper there is no core of masonry or puddled chalk or clay whatever. it was at one time intended that there should be. i have alluded to the alarmist rumours that were raised again and again at panama and created much uneasiness in the united states. these were especially concerned with the great dam, and that word must have frequently been on the lips of the engineers in more than one significance. every possible test was applied to determine the exact character of the underlying materials, to ascertain whether there was any connection between the swamp areas to the north and south through the deposits in the gorges which the earthwork was to bridge, to prove the ability of the material below to support the structure, and to find out whether suitable material for the dam could be found in its neighbourhood. "as the result of all these investigations," wrote colonel goethals,[ ] "it may be briefly stated that the underlying material is impervious to water; that it possesses ample strength to uphold the structure that will be placed upon it, and, the subsoil being impervious, that there is no connection between the swamps above and the sea below." in order to make assurance doubly sure, colonel goethals planned the dam so as to include triple interlocking steel sheet-piling across the valley, driven down to bedrock, and decided to carry the dam to a height of feet. even so, the news of a collapse was wired home, and this so impressed president roosevelt that he sent a commission of engineers to the isthmus accompanied by president-elect taft. the investigations had a different result from what had been expected. instead of being dissatisfied with the size and strength of the dam, the engineers declared that it was being built too high and that the steel piling was unnecessary. it must be admitted, therefore, that the efficiency of the gatun dam has been subjected to the most rigorous tests, and that no further anxiety on the subject need be felt. with the blocking of the chagres outlet at gatun, the waters of the lake have gradually accumulated until they cover an area of square miles. not only the chagres itself but its tributaries, the trinidad and others, are thus ponded back. the reservoir extends up a number of long and winding arms, and is thus very irregular in shape. the bed of the channel itself was cleared of brushwood and trees, but the rest of the valley was thickly overgrown. as the waters rose, therefore, and gradually submerged this primeval forest, a rather dismal spectacle was presented of decay and destruction. the lake has, indeed, completely altered the aspect of the country. villages and even small towns, whose names had come down from the days of the old navigators, lie buried for ever beneath the waters of lake gatun. even now the great expanse of water with its wooded islands looks like a natural feature of the landscape rather than yesterday's creation of engineering enterprise. the vessels in transit will, of course, keep to the dredged and buoyed channel, but the channel will itself be invisible, and the traveller, after tossing on the restless caribbean sea, will enjoy the full sensation of a cruise over a landlocked fjord or lake. lake gatun is indeed twice the size of lago maggiore and four-fifths the size of lake geneva. the journey from gatun to bas obispo, where the waterway again assumes the appearance of a canal and enters the culebra gorge, is miles, but the same -foot level is maintained right to the locks at pedro miguel, where the waters of lake gatun are again retained by a dam connecting the walls of the lock with a hill to the west. the rest of the lake is held in by the natural configuration of the country, the only outlets being at the gatun spillway and, of course, through the locks. but we must not overlook the main purpose of the lake, which is to supply the water for the canal and the lockages. for this purpose everything, of course, depends on the rainfall at the isthmus, and the question arises whether this may be relied upon to replenish the canal with the needful water-supply. colonel goethals estimates that in an average dry season "lockages," or transits of the canal, per day would be possible, which is a greater number than the twenty-four hours of the day would permit, allowing vessels to follow each other at intervals of one hour. happily, a resource is still left if the supply of water should show signs of proving insufficient. at alhajuela, on the chagres river, some nine or ten miles above obispo, there is an excellent site for a dam, forming a reservoir where some of the surplus water of the rainy season could be stored and supplied to the canal as required in the dry months. details of the construction of such a dam were prepared in connection with a former canal-scheme, and would be available in case of need. footnotes: [ ] _the national geographic magazine_, february . chapter xii. the culebra cut. the most famous section of work on the canal has been that at the vertebra or "continental divide," which runs along the isthmus on the pacific side and had to be pierced through by any canal running from colon to panama. this tremendous work, known as the "culebra cut," from the name of one of the hills, extends for nine miles from bas obispo to pedro miguel. mr. bryce has truly said, referring to this section, that "never before on our planet have so much labour, so much scientific knowledge, and so much executive skill been concentrated on a work designed to bring the nations nearer to one another and serve the interests of all mankind."[ ] the bottom of the canal in the cut, as in the channel through lake gatun, is feet above sea-level. the highest elevation of the original surface of the ground above the centre line of the canal was feet above sea-level, so that the total excavation along this saddle was minus , or feet. this was, however, not actually the highest point of excavation. gold hill, close to the canal line, is feet above sea-level, and from the top of this hill a new and steeper slope had to be made. the surface of the water is feet above sea-level, and so is feet below the original saddle at its highest elevation. we have already noticed that a tide-level canal would have involved an excavation feet deeper, and the width of the cutting would have had to be immensely wider. the slides and breaks which have rendered the american excavation so much more difficult lead one to suppose that the tide-level cutting might have proved impracticable. all the work at culebra performed by the french was available for their successors. the french companies accounted for , , cubic yards of material on this section. they had already cut down feet below the original surface at its highest elevation, and the cliff they had cut in the face of gold hill was feet in vertical height. it is well to mention such figures, as some people imagine that the french wasted all their time and resources at panama. it may be added that the bottom width of the channel adopted by the french engineers was feet, whereas that of the american canal will be feet. many descriptions have been given by visitors of the spectacle presented in this long and deep gash through the mountains during the progress of the excavations. from these and the numerous photographs taken at that stage the traveller will be able to reconstruct the scene--the two hundred miles of railroad construction track, laid down tier above tier at different levels; the thousands of men busily at work; the roar and smoke of the dynamite tearing the rock into fragments; the mighty steam-shovels like great dragons burying their iron teeth in the surface of the bank, engulfing a huge mouthful, then swinging round and belching it all into the dirt trucks, to be carried off to the dumping-ground at gatun near the atlantic or balboa at the pacific end of the canal. at culebra, colonel goethals made the "dirt fly" to the full satisfaction of public opinion in the united states. all sorts of devices and machinery were employed to hasten and economize the process. for example, there was the ledgerwood unloader. railway trucks provided with flaps were used, these flaps making a single platform of the whole train. at the rear of the train was a plough which could be drawn by a wire rope attached to a drum carried on a special car in the fore part of the train. when the train arrived at the dumping-ground the drum was started, and the plough, advancing from the rear, swept the cubic yards and rock from the sixteen cars in seven minutes. then there was a "track-shifter," invented by an employee on the isthmus, which lifted and relaid the railway lines as the spoil-tracks had to be shifted. this powerful engine raised the track and ties clear of the ground and deposited them from three to nine feet sideways. the "spoil trains" were treated with all the respect which is accorded to the fastest mail trains of the day on an english main line. they followed one another from the cutting at intervals of three minutes, and any delay, of course, balked the mammoth steam-shovel of its gluttonous meal on the stones and rubble of the mountain-side. any cause of delay was at once reported by telephone to the superintendent of transportation at empire, and the obstruction was immediately dealt with. by this persistent concentration on the main object the dirt has been made to fly not only more speedily but more cheaply. one of the most serious causes of anxiety and difficulty along the canal line were the "slides" and "breaks" which kept occurring in the culebra cut. to use a condensed americanism, the sides would not "stay put." large masses of material would slide or move from the banks into the excavated area, closing off the drainage, upsetting the steam-shovels, and tearing up the tracks. a very unpleasant phenomenon was the lifting of the shovels in the bottom of the canal due to the bulgings of the earth there. it is not necessary to enter into the distinction between "slides" and "breaks," or into the learned disquisitions that have been written about them. it is sufficient for us to note that they added immensely to the amount of material which had to be got out of the culebra gorge. colonel goethals tells us that of the , , cubic yards removed during the year , , cubic yards, or per cent., were due to slides; that in of , , cubic yards removed, , , , or per cent., came from slides or breaks that had previously existed or that had developed during the year. it might have been imagined that these discouraging additions to the work would have seriously delayed progress on the canal and put forward the date of its completion. but able and economic organization triumphed over all these lets and hindrances. at the beginning of the american excavations the engineers estimated that million cubic yards of "dirt" had still to be removed, and that this work would take nine years to accomplish. but that estimate of material proved to be greatly below the mark. enlargements of the canal and the unforeseen collapses in the culebra cut brought up the total to million cubic yards. it is a remarkable evidence of the efficiency and economy of the american organization that this immense task will have been completed in about six years of actual full-swing work. some idea of the way in which colonel goethals made the dirt fly may be gathered from the fact that in the first five years of his directorship, down to april , he removed million cubic yards of material. "if all this material," writes mr. showalter, "could be placed in a solid shaft of the shape of the washington monument, with a base as large as an average city block, it would tower more than six miles skyward, overtopping the earth's loftiest mountain peak by more than a mile. again, if it were to be loaded on to the big lidgerwood dirt cars used on the canal, it would make a string of them reaching over two and a half times around the earth, and requiring a string of engines reaching from new york to sac francisco to move them." it is indeed a remarkable achievement that, while the amount of material to be removed was increased by about per cent., the time of removal was cut down by per cent. nor has the increase of the work added to the estimate of cost. the total cost of the completed canal was fixed in at million dollars. yet, in spite of the increased excavations, enough of this sum, it is calculated, will be left over to build a new breakwater, and perhaps a big storage reservoir at alhajuela on the upper reaches of the chagres river. in the culebra cut, despite the landslides, the cost of excavation has actually been reduced by more than one-third. [illustration: culebra cut, from west bank, showing shovels at work.] the pessimists have of course been busy with these landslides in the "cut." they predicted that the canal along this section would always be exposed to danger from that source. but here, too, every precaution has been taken. the engineers have given a much lower slope to the sides of the canal, which is therefore wider at the top than had been originally planned. the slopes will also be sown with creeping grasses and other plants, which will bind down the surface soil. when the forty-five feet of water are in the canal, the bottom will be held down by the weight, and the bulgings no longer take place. moreover, any earth that, in spite of all precautions, still manages to slide into the canal should be easily dealt with by the big -inch suction dredges, which can be brought up through the locks and set to work. so we need not trouble much about the stability of things along this nine-mile section through the culebra mountains. here as elsewhere it is possible to give only a very general idea of the difficulties which were encountered and overcome in the course of construction. the drainage of the "cut" during the work was in itself a heavy and important task. it was necessary to keep out the water of the surrounding country and to rid the excavated area of water collecting in it. a system of diversion channels, carrying off the obispo river and its tributaries, effected the first object, and the second problem was solved by gravity drains and pumps. on the whole, this mighty trench through the isthmian hills is not only the biggest thing to the credit of a nation which delights in bigness, but the greatest achievement of its kind the world has ever seen. footnotes: [ ] "south america," p. . chapter xiii. the locks. the panama canal belongs to the "age of concrete." all other vast works of construction, such as the pyramids of antiquity and the assouan dam of to-day, have been built of live natural rock. at panama everything--locks, wharves, piers, breakwaters--has been constructed of concrete. the americans have not only built these incomparable piles of masonry; they have manufactured the material out of which they are built. this circumstance makes the rapid completion of the canal all the more wonderful. not less than four and a half million cubic yards of artificial stone have been produced for the built portions of the canal and its accessories. this amount of concrete, we are informed, would make an ordinary sidewalk nine feet wide by six inches thick reaching more than twice round the earth. the broken stone which is one of the ingredients of concrete was quarried and transported from porto bello--a name famous in the annals of west indian romance-- miles to the east of colon; while the sand came mostly from nombre de dios, also a celebrated place miles further to the east, the atlantic terminal of the old paved trans-isthmian road along which the spanish mule convoys brought the silver of the incas from panama. millions of yards of stone came from porto bello. hundreds of bargeloads of sand came from nombre de dios and from islands in the atlantic and pacific. myriads of barrels of cement were shipped from the united states to cristobal, an outskirt of colon, thence carried by barges to gatun or by railway to the pedro miguel and miraflores lock sites. dozens of mighty "mixers" were ready to receive these diverse materials. each of these could accommodate ten tons of sand, cement, crushed stones, and water. this indigestible mixture the machine would toss and churn round for a minute or so in its interior and then belch it all out in the shape of unhardened artificial stone. the belief in concrete among the builders of the panama canal has been almost a superstition. they invented a sort of cement gun to shoot sand and water against the sides of the culebra cut, so as to form a coating of solid artificial rock, but the experiment rather deserved than achieved success. of course all such structures as lighthouses were built wholly of concrete, and it is reported that even barges were constructed of this adaptable material. as regards concrete and its nature and behaviour nothing was taken for granted. every means was taken of testing such important matters as the effect of sea-water on this material, the time it takes for these huge masses of artificial stone to settle, and many other questions on the answer to which the permanence and stability of the locks and the entire waterway would depend. the panama canal, writes mr. showalter, is "the greatest effort man ever has made, and perhaps ever will make, to simulate the processes of geologic ages, and do in days what nature required unreckoned years to accomplish." these remarks about concrete naturally lead us to the subject of the panama locks, the magnificent stairway at gatun, the single-step locks at pedro miguel (or, as the worker quickly anglicized it, peter magill), and the double-step flight at miraflores. the most impressive of these is the colossal duplicated three-step flight at gatun, up which the vessel in transit is lifted from the end of the sea-level seven-mile-long entrance channel through limon bay to gatun up to the surface of gatun lake, feet above the level of the sea. this giant staircase has been constructed in a cutting through the hill which retains at this end the waters of the artificial lake. a tremendous amount of excavation, upwards of , , cubic yards, was necessary, and the locks, which are constructed entirely of concrete, contain about , , cubic yards of that material. the chambers of all the locks in the canal will have a usable length of , feet and a width of feet. these dimensions should prove large enough for the largest ships not only existing but likely to be constructed for many years to come. they satisfy the requirement of the spooner act that the canal shall be "of sufficient capacity and depth to afford convenient passage for vessels of the largest tonnage and greatest draft now in use, and such as may reasonably be expected." more than per cent. of the ships now afloat are less than feet in length, so that a good margin is allowed. we may be certain that the american government has given the closest attention to the question of the length and breadth of the lock-chambers, for the canal, we must remember, is primarily a military passage for the purpose of transferring, if need be, the entire american fleet from the atlantic to the pacific seaboard. the locks of the kiel canal, it may be added for purposes of comparison, have an available length of feet and a width of feet. the vessel, then, in order to gain the level of gatun lake from the atlantic entrance, has to pass through a flight of three successive locks. the maximum lift is feet, or about four feet higher than at any other locks now in use. all the locks along the panama canal are duplicated--that is, there are two parallel sets with a common centre-wall--so that two ships could be simultaneously put through both flights in the same or in opposite directions. this "double-tracking" is in itself one of the many precautions taken against accidents at the locks. there are no locks in the world where these precautions are so minute and numerous. it is all of course in the interests of the owners to inspire the maximum of confidence in maritime circles. complete efficiency in the operation of the canal, absolute safety for the vessels and cargoes entrusted for ten or twelve hours to its keeping, are the elementary conditions of success. each lock through which the vessel passes is equipped with two pairs of mitre gates--that is, double swinging doors--the biggest lock-gates in the world; but in all cases the uppermost locks have a second pair of gates, so that if some unruly vessel were to ram open one set of gates there would still be another set ready to receive it. but even this is not all. heavy chains are stretched across the channel with the ends attached to hydraulic paying-out machinery. these chains and their attachments are capable of bringing to a dead stop a vessel of , tons moving at the rate of five miles an hour. and still the precautionary devices are not exhausted. let us suppose that all these barriers were broken down, though such a disaster is almost beyond the bounds of things possible. at the head of each flight of locks there are provided great cantilever swing-bridges which can be thrown across the channel in case of accident. from these bridges a series of nickel-steel wicket girders could be let down. the lower ends of these girders would drop into a sort of sill at the bottom of the rushing waters. the girders would then act as small perpendicular runways, down which large steel sheets on rollers would be let down, gradually damming back the escaping waters. and lastly, in order to avoid all recourse to these emergency contrivances, it is ordained that no vessel shall enter any chamber of any locks under its own steam. nearly all the accidents that happen in locks are due to the vessels being worked independently of the lock authorities when passing through. captains may be as anxious as possible to avoid mistakes, but there is many a slip possible between an order and its fulfilment. so the lock operators are not going to be responsible for the safety of a vessel which is not entirely under their own control. none will be allowed to negotiate the locks under its own motive-power. a series of electric towing-stations will be set up on the side walls of the locks. when a vessel approaches it will be brought to a standstill outside the locks. then four of these towing engines will be fastened to it by means of hawsers--two at the stem, in order to draw the vessel into the locks, and two at the stern, to check its speed and bring it to a standstill when necessary. and this control will of course be exercised all through its passage to the upper or lower levels. we should certainly not hear of any accidents in the lock-chambers of the panama canal. [illustration: gatun locks, looking south-west, showing north end of the locks.] it is expected that a vessel will be passed through the three locks at gatun in about fifty minutes, though some delay may be caused in the approach. on the atlantic side the water of the canal will be smooth, and the ship will be in some degree sheltered from the winds, so that there should be no difficulty in the approach from that direction. coming from lake gatun to the locks the vessel may experience a little rough water, though there is seldom a great force of wind there, and the lake will be free from currents. as regards the pacific side, the ocean there fully corresponds with its name. it is always calm, and not the slightest difficulty may be anticipated from either winds or waves or currents. over thirty miles away at the southern extremity of the culebra cut the vessel in transit will be lowered from the high-level lake feet down to the surface of another artificial lake much smaller in content, held at a surface-height of feet above sea-level. these are the single-step duplicate locks known as the pedro miguel or "peter magill." the construction of these locks required , cubic yards of cement. on the west side of these locks is the other dam which, with the mighty gatun dam at the other end, holds up the waters of lake gatun. this smaller dam is also of earth, and is about , feet long and feet wide at the top. it is subjected to a maximum "head" of water of feet, but the average is from to feet. the length of the lake, which is known by the pretty name of "miraflores," between the peter magill and the next set of locks, is about , yards, and the lake itself covers about , acres. its waters are held up at feet above sea-level by two dams at the miraflores locks. these are the third and last set of locks for a ship proceeding from the atlantic to the pacific. they are in two steps, or, to use the more technical expression, "two in flight," and they drop the vessel from the miraflores lake at feet elevation down to sea-level. it must be noticed, however, that the fluctuations in the tide of the pacific end are about feet, and that the height of the lake is given for mean tide. in other words low water during "spring" tides is feet below the average sea-level. the maximum lift for these locks therefore will be feet. there are two dams holding up the waters of the miraflores lake, one to the west of earth, and one to the east of concrete. the former is , feet long and feet wide at the top. the average "head" to which it is subjected is feet, the maximum . its construction is similar to that at gatun. the concrete dam is about feet long, and is provided with regulating works similar to and of the same dimensions as those at gatun, the crest in this instance being feet above mean tide-level, with seven openings, allowing a discharge of , cubic feet per second. the locks themselves will require , , cubic feet of concrete. i should add that these dams at pedro miguel and miraflores are, unlike their big brother at gatun, founded upon the solid bedrock. there has, therefore, been no question as to their permanence and stability. moreover, as will have been noticed, the pressure of water is only about a half of that at gatun. the relaying of most of the old panama railroad was proceeding _pari passu_ with the construction of the canal. two sections of the old line, one from colon to mindi at the atlantic end, the other from corozal to panama at the pacific end, could be used for the new. all the rest had to be built. the greater portion of the old track was, indeed, submerged beneath the waters of lake gatun. the line is also being doubled throughout almost its entire length. it was originally intended to carry the line through the culebra cut along a berm feet above the water surface, to be left for this purpose during the excavations of the channel; but the "slides" interfered with this project, and a new line to the east of the cut was selected. the heavy embankments along the railway were among the most useful and convenient "dumps" for the material taken out of the culebra cutting. as a great part of the railroad passes through the lake, culverts of reinforced concrete are provided to equalize the water on both sides of the embankments. south of miraflores the new railway passes through a tunnel feet long, and a striking feature of the canal is a steel bridge across the chagres river near gamboa, almost a quarter of a mile long. we need not dwell on the excavations of the tidal stretches of the canal on the atlantic and pacific ends or through lake gatun. a good deal of the french work was available at the tidal levels, but a vast amount of excavation had still to be done by steam-shovels as well as dredges, rocky elevations being found in both channels. below the miraflores locks a million and a half cubic yards of rock had to be removed. there will be some tidal current at the pacific end, but as the sea-level section here will be feet wide, the current will never run faster than about one foot per second. the sea is practically tideless at the atlantic terminal, the variation being only . as a maximum, whereas at the pacific it is . . chapter xiv the completed canal. we may now begin to consider the canal as a whole and in its completed state. from deep water in limon bay, -foot depth at mean tide, to deep water outside panama, -foot depth at mean tide, is just about miles. the greater part of the canal is at high elevation, only miles of it being at sea-level. we shall note the varying depths and widths of the channel when we take our imaginary journey along it. here it is enough to say that the minimum width will be feet, the minimum depth feet, the breadth and depth being, however, for the greater portion of its course, greater than these dimensions. its highest point above sea-level, as the reader already knows, is feet--that is, feet at the surface of the water, and feet at the canal bottom. the depth along this stretch is therefore feet. the panama canal, though not so long as the kiel and suez canals, is very much broader and deeper. suez is feet wide and feet deep as _minima_; kiel, feet and -½ feet. the manchester ship canal is feet by feet. in length panama, with its miles, comes third, suez being , kiel , and manchester -½ miles long. during the building of the canal the department of construction and engineering was arranged in three divisions--the atlantic, embracing the engineering construction from deep water in the caribbean sea to include the gatun locks and dam; the central division, extending from gatun to pedro miguel; and the pacific division, from pedro miguel to deep water in the pacific ocean. for the ordinary student, however, the channel divides naturally into four sections, the atlantic level, the lake, the cutting, and the pacific section (in two levels separated by locks). the invisible channel of the waterway begins at the mouth of limon bay, about eight miles from gatun locks. limon, also known as colon or navy bay, is about three miles wide and three and a half miles long from north to south. it is shallow, from three to seven fathoms deep, and seems to be steadily growing shallower. this is not surprising, as it is fully exposed to the "northers," which blow with terrific force from the caribbean, and no doubt carry into the bay a good deal of detritus from the bottom of the sea. the heavy rains of the isthmus must also scour the land perpetually down into the bay. on the east side of the bay is the flat manzanillo island, a mile long by three-quarters broad, on which stands the city of colon. this town, which was once known as aspinwall, owes its existence to the panama railway, of which it is the northern or caribbean terminus. its position on the railway gave it an advantage over the old town of chagres, a little distance along the coast to the west, which, though once a flourishing port, has now fallen on evil days. near colon is cristobal, the new atlantic terminal of the canal. [illustration: gatun upper lock, looking north from lighthouse.] without some protection the entrance to the canal would have been exposed to the extremely violent storms which occur in the caribbean during the winter months. during these storms vessels cannot lie safely in colon harbour, and could not safely enter or issue from the canal. so a breakwater two miles long has been run out from toro point in an easterly direction, covering the extremity of the canal. a glance at the map will suggest a thought that this barrier will not provide sufficient protection, and that another breakwater will have to be run out from the eastern shore. such a further protection will be provided if the need should arise. at this point then, west of colon and at the mouth of limon bay, our vessel enters the buoyed submarine channel of the canal and speeds onwards along the first section of the waterway, feet in bottom-width and feet deep, towards the locks at gatun. but the locks are not yet visible. it is not until the fifth mile--that is, at mindi--that a bend of the canal opens that gigantic structure to view, and by that time the vessel has left the broad waters and is enclosed within banks. the experience which awaits the traveller who has looked forward with some excitement to see the world's greatest wonder of to-day has been vividly imagined by mr. bryce. our late american ambassador writes:-- the voyager of the future, in the ten or twelve hours of his passage from ocean to ocean, will have much variety. the level light of the fiery tropic dawn will fall on the houses of colon as he approaches it in the morning, when vessels usually arrive. when his ship has mounted the majestic staircase of the three gatun locks from the atlantic level, he will glide slowly and softly along the waters of a broad lake which gradually narrows toward its head--a lake enclosed by rich forests of that velvety softness one sees in the tropics, with vistas of forest-girt islets stretching far off to right and left among the hills; a welcome change from the restless caribbean sea which he has left. then the mountains will close in upon him, steep slopes of grass or brushwood rising two hundred feet above him as he passes through the great cut. from the level of the miguel lock he will look southward down the broad vale that opens on the ocean flooded with the light of the declining sun, and see the rocky islets rising, between which in the twilight his course will lie out into the vast pacific. at suez the passage from sea to sea is through a dreary and monotonous waste of shifting sand and barren clay. here one is for a few hours in the centre of a verdant continent, floating on smooth waters, shut off from sight of the ocean behind and the ocean before--a short sweet present of tranquillity between a stormy past and a stormy future. the gatun locks, each chamber of which is a sort of "canyon of cement," will almost oppress the imagination with the sense of immensity. at the foot of the locks the vessel will surrender its own volition and entrust itself wholly to the canal operators. it will be attached to the electric apparatus ashore and gently towed into the lock-chambers. in less than an hour it should have climbed the three gigantic steps and be afloat on the surface of the lake, feet above sea-level. the traveller might fail even to notice of himself the great dam which abuts on the locks to the west. he may be surprised to hear that the whole being of the canal depends upon that earthwork, and that with the culebra cut it absorbed the greater part of the labour and skill and solicitude of the canal-builders. the gatun dam has indeed been so adopted and transfigured by nature that it appears only a part, and not a very conspicuous part, of the landscape. nor would our traveller, without previous information, guess the history of the great expanse of water which stretches to right and left up many a distant arm or loch and round many a picturesque island, and over which his vessel, once more resuming its own power and control, begins to advance. the buoys alone indicate that the channel, the true and well-wrought link between the two oceans, still holds its course through the bed of the lake. mr. bryce has pointed out what a pleasant interlude in a long ocean journey will be afforded by this placid glide of miles over the inland lake from gatun to gamboa. the bottom widths through the lake are , feet for miles, feet for miles, and feet for about miles. at gamboa the vessel enters the eight-mile section of the culebra cut. here again, though the traveller in future days will need no reminding of the enterprise represented by this tremendous trench driven through the backbone of the isthmus, he will have to imagine the busy scene during the days of construction which will then have disappeared. he must try to reproduce what was little less than a manufacturing town at gorgona, just near the entrance to the cut, where stood the machine shops, boiler shops, smith shops, car shops, pattern shops, where repairs of all kinds were made and machines of all sorts and sizes constructed. he should think of that model residential town to the west of the cut where the chief engineer and his assistants lived, surrounded by the quarters of the men, each dwelling protected with its fine wire netting to exclude the mosquitoes, the whole settlement scrupulously clean and bright with well-kept lawns and flowerbeds. all this will have passed away with the crowds of workers who interrupted for a dozen years the stillness of the primeval forest. nature and silence will in a large degree have resumed their sway, but the world will not forget the debt it owes to that conquering industrial army which divided the land here in order to unite the nations. through the cutting the bottom width of the canal is feet. having accomplished the eight or nine mile passage through the deep gorge, the vessel reaches the end of the high-level section at the pedro miguel locks. here she is gently lowered feet down to the bosom of little miraflores lake, held at feet above sea-level. the length of this subsection is about a mile and a half, and it ends at the miraflores locks, where the ship is lowered by two steps to the level of the pacific. then follows the last stage of this eventful transit--the eight-mile tidal section along which the vessel glides between low swamps to her own element of deep sea-water beyond the new port of balboa, west of panama, whose wharves are being constructed from the waste material of the inland excavations. the new breakwater which runs out from balboa to naos island suggests wind and storm. but eternal calm reigns along these shores, and the object of the breakwater is to protect the line of the canal, not from heavy seas, but from the silt-bearing currents from the east which set at right angles to the channel. constant dredging was necessary to prevent the bed of the canal becoming filled with this sediment. the dyke has proved very effectual for this purpose. such is the panama canal which has for so many centuries been the desire of the nations, and which is now one of the permanent geographical features of the globe. it is so well and truly constructed that nothing short of an earthquake could ever seriously damage it. the question naturally arises whether this ultimate danger needs to be seriously considered. panama is rather suspiciously close to a region where geological conditions are not remarkable for stability. the earthquake at kingston a few years ago was as destructive a calamity as those of messina and san francisco. costa rica, too, almost an isthmian country, enjoys a very bad reputation for this kind of friskiness. panama, however, seems happily to lie outside the zone of such disturbances. slight earthquake shocks have been felt, probably only the reflections of severer shocks elsewhere. but there is no record or tradition of a really serious convulsion. there is, indeed, one visible and reassuring evidence of the self-possession of the earth's surface in this region. to the east of the modern city of panama is the site of old panama, of which the lofty tower of the old cathedral--a pathetic and picturesque object--is still standing. this shows that there has been no serious earthquake here for the greater part of four centuries. still, the danger--great or small--does exist, and it threatens a high-level canal, with its elaborate lock-machinery and masonry, far more than it would have affected a canal at sea-level. no very severe convulsion might be necessary to throw one of these locks out of gear, and the entire canal, therefore, out of operation for a considerable time. but against such perils there is no guarding, and every precaution having been taken against foreseeable and preventable dangers, all else must be left to the disposal of that providence "which by his strength setteth fast the mountains," "who laid the foundations of the earth, that it should not be removed for ever." [illustration: gatun upper lock--west chamber.] it seems incredible that the canal should ever be in danger of injury or destruction from the attack of any civilized power, because all nations are apparently interested in its preservation. what, then, is the meaning of these slopes which are being prepared for forts and batteries at either end of the canal? "with the two great forts at the two ends of the canal," writes mr. showalter, "fitted with four -inch guns, six -inch guns, and twelve -inch mortars, with twelve companies of coast artillery, one battery of field artillery, four regiments of infantry, and one squad of cavalry, there is not likely to arise a time when these fortifications, backed up by the american navy, will fail to command a proper and wholesome respect from other nations." yet if the object were simply to maintain the neutrality of the canal, the best course would seem to have been to leave the canal entirely unfortified, as is the case at suez, and trust to the moral influence of the great powers and their common interest in keeping the canal free and open to the world's traffic. obviously the idea of making the canal zone a big military camp and arsenal is not so much to "police" the passage as a great international waterway, but to defend it and the zone as a position of immense strategic importance to the united states. president hayes, in a message to the senate in , spoke of the canal as "the great ocean thoroughfare between our atlantic and pacific ports, and _virtually a part of the coastline of the united states_." the words i have italicized seem to show that the united states regard the new passage rather as wholly proprietary, like those of kiel and corinth, than as international in status, like the suez canal. in the hay-pauncefote treaty there is no specific reference to fortification. the only allusion to the defence of the canal occurs in the second subsection of the third clause: "the united states shall be at liberty to maintain such military police along the canal as may be necessary to protect it against lawlessness and disorder." the hay-bunau-varilla treaty is rather more specific in its provisions on this subject, though even that instrument seems scarcely to have contemplated an armament and garrison on the large and permanent scale intended at the isthmus.[ ] england has, however, acquiesced in the proposed fortification. the decision is not likely to be challenged in any other quarter. the united states have built the canal with their own money and enterprise. they are more closely and immediately interested in the passage than any other power, and so long as they fulfil their undertaking to afford equal treatment in tolls and other respects to the commerce of all nations, nobody is likely to protest against the presence of american men and guns at the isthmus. indeed, there is some force in the plea that the complete neutralization of the canal would be inconsistent with american control and operation. in time of war the americans would have had either to refrain from using the canal for their warships (an unthinkable proposition) or to permit their enemy or enemies to use it on equal terms. this would have meant a rather painful experience for the american engineers, managers, workmen, and others on the isthmus. they would have been obliged to put the enemy's vessels through the canal, and thus commit a sort of legalized treason against their own government by giving "aid and comfort" to the enemy. so it comes to this--that the canal will be neutral at all times except when the united states are themselves a belligerent. then it will become part and parcel of the sovereign dominions of the great american republic. but the united states will have to stand all the ulterior possibilities of this position. if they were at war the canal would be at once liable to attack. in fact it would invite attack as a very vulnerable point in their armour. it has been truly said that the canal zone will have all the disadvantages, without any of the advantages, of an island. it will be entirely dependent on imported supplies and isolated from the centre of american power. if the american fleet lost the command of the sea even for a short time, the enemy could land troops at any part of the isthmus, march them against any point of the extended canal line and inflict on the united states a wound in a very sensitive, if not a vital region. so that instead of simply doubling the efficiency of the existing american fleet, by enabling it to be transferred swiftly and bodily from the western to the eastern coast, it may rather add to the naval responsibilities of the states and compel a considerable increase in their sea-power. to englishmen, however, this development of the power and resources of the united states ought to bring no feelings but those of pleasure and satisfaction. in view of the great secular struggle between east and west for supremacy in the pacific, which some people think will fill the pages of future world history, anything that strengthens the position and prestige of anglo-saxondom as the main guardian of western ideas and principles should be welcome to all the members of that race. it is estimated that the fortification of the canal will cost about $ , , . this added to the $ , , , the estimated cost of construction, will bring the entire bill up to the round and goodly sum of $ , , or £ , , . this puts all other expenditure on artificial water-channels into the shade, as the suez canal cost only £ , , , the manchester ship canal £ , , , and the kiel canal £ , , . as regards this expense and the possibilities of revenue returns, colonel goethals has written an interesting passage:-- much has been said and predicted as to the commercial value of the canal to the united states. in this connection it must be remembered that the commercial shipping of this country never required the canal. the trip of the _oregon_ in settled the question of the advisability of constructing an isthmian canal, and had the canal been built at that time, thereby saving that trip around the horn, there is no question that it would have been agreed generally that the canal, even at an expenditure of $ , , , was worth while. in whatever light the panama canal is viewed, it will have paid for itself if in time of war or threatened war a concentration of the fleet is effected without that long, tedious, uncertain route followed by the _oregon_. it will practically double the efficiency of that fleet, and, notwithstanding the fact that we are a peaceful nation, our outlying possessions make the panama canal a military necessity, and it must be so recognized. from this point of view the debt should be charged to the account which necessitated its construction, and whatever revenues are derived from other sources are so much to the good. the traffic that will utilize the canal depends upon the tolls that will be charged, and the president has asked the congress for legislation which will enable the establishment of rates. there is another policy which, if adopted, will have a material bearing on the revenues of the enterprise. through the panama railroad a large expenditure of money has been made for providing the present working forces with supplies of all kinds. though the railroad has been reimbursed for this plant through fixed charges on sales, it should not be abandoned, but utilized for furnishing shipping with its needed supplies. suitable coaling plants should be erected for the sale of coal to vessels touching at or passing through the canal. in addition, since oil is now used on a number of ships plying in the pacific, such fuel should also be on hand for sale by the canal authorities. the extensive machine shops now located at gorgona must be moved before the completion of the canal, and they should be established in connection with a dry dock that will be needed for commercial purposes, and utilized as a revenue producer for the canal. this policy also needs congressional action. with properly regulated tolls, and with facilities for fully equipping, supplying, and repairing ships, the panama route would offer many advantages and bring to it a sufficiently remunerative return to pay, not only the operating expenses, but to gradually absorb the debt which the united states has incurred by its construction. we shall return to the question of tolls in a later chapter. [illustration: pedro miguel locks, from hill on east bank.] footnotes: [ ] see _ante_, page . chapter xv. panama and the isthmus. it may be convenient to deal here with a few detached questions before inquiring into the commercial and maritime changes likely to be produced by the canal. the reader understands the position of the united states at the isthmus. they control a zone of territory ten miles wide running across from panama to colon. these two towns are, however, not included politically, though they are geographically, within the zone. this narrow strip of territory with its precious canal runs right through a foreign country in which the social and political conditions existing must be a matter of importance to the canal-owners. one cannot help wondering how long this state of things is likely to continue. panama, the youngest of the south and central american republics, is no better than the rest in its governmental principles. indeed, the republic had scarcely got into being when it was threatened with a military revolution. a pompous and polysyllabic self-importance, coupled with a levantine standard of business and financial ethics, scarcely promises a long continuance of the present political relations with a great republic which is not likely to see its achievement at the isthmus in the smallest degree prejudiced or endangered. some interesting little details of panamanian manners have been reported. for example, chinese immigration is forbidden by law, yet, strange to say, most of the retail trade of the isthmus is in celestial hands. this is because the law against immigration gave the opportunity for the formation of a syndicate with the collusion of the authorities, by which chinese were introduced at a rate of $ entrance fee. the judicial standards which prevail in this little bumbledom may be gathered from another story. the mate of a british ship was recently sentenced to twelve years' hard labour for manslaughter, because he was held responsible on no evidence whatever for the loss of a ship and the lives of several relatives of _those serving on the jury_. it is scarcely to be expected that a people for whom ideals and standards of this kind are good enough will take much trouble to develop their country. an efficient and responsible administration might make a good deal of these narrow lands between the two oceans, a territory of , square miles, larger, that is, than scotland or ireland. it is perhaps as well that the construction of the canal has not made many panamanian fortunes or produced any great boom in trade. otherwise the withdrawal of the industrial army from the zone might have had the effect produced when the french canal works were shut down. a grievous famine desolated the whole country. this is not likely to happen again. the zone has been largely an independent and detached enclave, such as never existed during the french occupation, when the panamanians became dependent for work and wage on the industrial invaders. the american canal employees have done very little shopping in panama and colon, because they could buy every necessity and luxury duty-free in the united states government stores. some trade may be lost owing to the departure of the workers, but it is hoped that this will be more than replaced by the growing stream of tourists who will come to visit the "big ditch," and increased business brought by the shipping which will pass through the canal. with a little thrift and enterprise the panamanians might have profited much more from the long period of construction. they might have supplied the zone with a good many more articles. as it was, the only contribution the country made to the zone or to the towns was about , head of cattle killed annually. the country is almost entirely dependent on imported supplies, only a small fraction of which it pays for by exports. here is a little instructive table of the panamanian commerce:-- imports. exports. £ , , £ , £ , , £ , £ , , £ , £ , , £ , [ ] the excess of imports over exports looks rather alarming, but it is adequately explained by the british consul at colon as "a measure of the commercial value to panama of its transit trade and of the trade with canal employees and tourists." the great bulk of the imports is consumed in the two towns of panama and colon, for, as in most of the south american republics, the interior is undeveloped and therefore self-supporting, being still in the "pack-mule" stage of civilization. in the imports into panama from the united states amounted to £ , , , from the united kingdom to £ , , and from germany to £ , . france, italy, and spain exported to panama smaller quantities. the exports from panama to the united states amounted in to £ , ( , first six months, £ , ); to the united kingdom, to £ , ( , first six months, £ , ), with smaller values to germany and france. the reader will be interested to learn what sort of things panama exports. here, then, is a list of the principal exports for , the last full year available:-- . £ bananas bunches , , , cacao kilos , cocoanuts " , , , cocobolo " , , , gold " , , hides " , , horns " , , ivory nuts " , , , mother-of-pearl shell " , , rubber " , , , sarsaparilla " , , skins " , , tortoise shell " , , the united fruit company has now, in the province of bocas del toro, , acres of bananas under cultivation and , acres planted in cacao, with about , trees; the bananas being exported to the united states, and the chocolate to the united states and europe. there should be a considerable increase in rubber production during the next few years, as , rubber trees have been recently planted in this province, and these will soon be ready for tapping. nearly all the rubber exported at present is taken from the wild trees growing in the virgin forests of this province. a curious article of exportation is the ivory nut, or _tagua_, which in value now comes next after bananas. these nuts are collected by indians on the caribbean coast, brought to colon, and there bought by merchants and shipped to new york and hamburg. they are used to make the big buttons which are now so fashionable, and probably a good many english girls who are wearing coats "made in germany," are carrying about a number of these ivory nuts which not long ago were lying on the tropical shores of the caribbean. the timber exports from panama would grow rapidly with proper exploitation. exports of mahogany, cedar, and cocobolo have already begun. the gold exports come mainly from the mines of the darien company, a french company which has been working for years. the whole isthmus is strongly under suspicion of gold. all the streams show evidence of it, and prospectors are always searching the darien country and the provinces of los santos and veraguas for the saint-seducing metal. no other minerals are worked in the isthmus. there are "coal-deposits" of a sort in the canal zone, but the coal is of no commercial value. the only railway at present existing in the republic is that between colon and panama, the entire stock of which is owned by the united states government, and is worked as a company under the laws of the state of new york. this line, which has had to be largely reconstructed owing to the course of the new canal, was opened in . it is rather surprising that it should not have been more extensively employed for traffic between the atlantic and pacific coasts of america. as a matter of fact, it was the main highway of transcontinental traffic until , when the missouri river was first linked up with the pacific coast by the union and central pacific railroads, and the first continuous line across the states came into existence. after that date the traffic fell off very rapidly. the causes of this decline are various. to begin with, the great trunk-lines across the states competed ruthlessly with the old isthmian route, getting control of the pacific mail steamship company, which was for long the only regular line between the west coasts of the united states and panama. then the french and american construction work has seriously interfered with the route by limiting the amount of commercial freight that could be handled across the isthmus. another cause of depression has been the opening of the tehuantepec route in south mexico. in the american-hawaiian steamship company made an agreement with the tehuantepec national railway, which runs across the isthmus, and withdrew its vessels from the old magellan route, establishing regular services between new york and puerto mexico on the atlantic side, and on the pacific between salina cruz, the pacific terminal of the canal, and the west coast ports of the united states and hawaii. the route so organized was opened in , and has proved very successful, chiefly owing to the enormous increase in the sugar exports from hawaii. the intercoastal traffic by tehuantepec from new york to pacific ports advanced from , tons in to , tons in , and from pacific ports to new york from , tons in to , in . all this competition hit the panama route very badly. the atlantic to pacific traffic by that railroad rose from , tons in to , tons in , and the pacific to atlantic from , tons to , tons between the same years. but in there came a sudden expansion to , tons (atlantic to pacific), and to , tons (pacific to atlantic), owing largely to the development of shipping services on both isthmian terminals. in fact, the commercial freight has had to be seriously held up and restricted in the interests of canal construction and the shipment of canal material. the reader will perhaps ask whether the tehuantepec route is likely to compete seriously in the future with the panama canal. the distance from new york to san francisco is , nautical miles less _via_ tehuantepec than _via_ panama, and from new orleans , miles less. the difference to honolulu in favour of the tehuantepec transit is almost exactly the same. but the difference in time will be a good deal less than these figures indicate. the cargo has to be transferred from shipboard to railroad on one side of the isthmus of tehuantepec and retransferred on the other. this means on the average about four days' delay. at panama, a vessel can pass through the canal in half a day, or, reckoning other causes of detention, coaling, etc., the total isthmian transit should not take more than one day. then there is the question of expense. the cost of transferring freight at tehuantepec could not be less than $ . per cargo ton. a panama toll of $ . per vessel ton, net register, would be equivalent to about $ . per cargo ton, giving panama an advantage of $ over tehuantepec. and the inconvenience and damage resulting from transhipment, from which a through service through the canal is free, will also be a considerable point in favour of the waterway. it is not likely, however, that tehuantepec will be ruined by the opening of the canal. considerable short-distance coasting trade is sure to continue along that route, and it will share in the general benefit of the developments which await isthmian and central america. has panama any danger to fear from its old rival the nicaraguan canal project? the united states seems to have forestalled this possible challenge of panama's monopoly of water transit over the isthmus. just as i write comes the news of a new treaty between the united states and nicaragua, securing to the former, for the payment of $ , , , the exclusive rights to construct a canal through nicaraguan territory. the united states are reported also to have obtained under the treaty possession of fonseca bay, one of the few places on the west coast of central america affording ample deep water facilities. moreover, the colombian chargé d'affaires in london recently made the following communication to the press:-- i have received from my government the following information respecting certain propositions made to colombia by the government of the united states, which the government of colombia has not accepted. the american propositions were as follows: . that colombia should grant the united states an option for the construction of an interoceanic canal, starting from the gulf of uraba on the atlantic to the pacific ocean, through the region of the atrato river. . that colombia should give to the american government the right to establish coaling stations in the islands of san andres and providencia, which are located in the caribbean sea. . in consideration of the above, the united states to pay to colombia $ , , and to use their good influence for the settlement of pending differences between colombia and panama. also to grant colombia preferential rights for the use of the canal and the settlement by arbitration of the claims of colombia against the panama railroad company. the government of colombia declined to accept the above proposals, insisting, at the same time, that all questions pending between colombia and the united states should be settled by arbitration. it is evident that the united states are not going to permit any competitive canal scheme in central america if they can help it. what will be the effect of the opening of the canal on panamanian prosperity? the local merchants fear that the system of state-supply, which has prevailed in the zone during the constructional period, will be continued after completion and extended to the shipping which will pass through the canal, and that coal and ship-chandlery will become american government monopolies. much depends on whether the panamanian merchant will be allowed to import freely through colon and compete in the supplying of the ships in transit. no serious development can be expected in panama until the country is better provided with railways. the only other line in contemplation is one from empire, on the culebra cut, to david, a town close to the pacific near the far western frontier, in the province of chiriqui. this line would be miles in length, and branches from it are proposed to anton, miles, and to los santos, about miles. it is pretty safe to prophesy that the blue streak through the isthmus of panama will have a gradual but sure effect on the politics of central america. the need to protect the canal, and to surround it with orderly conditions, social and political, will compel a good many states to put themselves to amendment or force the big republic responsible for the canal to provide them with good government whether they like it or not. if the united states had to intervene in cuba in order to put down anarchy or misrule, they may be persuaded by an even stronger necessity to intervene in the affairs of central america in the defence of the panama canal. it would be no surprise, especially after recent events in mexico, if the south-western frontier of the states gradually advanced down the broad and narrow isthmus until it reached and passed the line of the canal. this would be quite in accordance with the law which makes it almost inevitable that a great and well-governed power should absorb weaker states along its borders, especially when these are unable to keep their houses in order. there is always the danger that foreign powers will intervene in the affairs of these republics in the interests of their bondholders, and this would compel in turn the intervention of the united states in order to make good the monroe doctrine, which is directed against any such foreign interference in american affairs. in order to avoid these complications mr. taft actually proposed not long ago to refund the debts of honduras and nicaragua, placing the custom-houses under the control of american officials. the object was partly to secure loans advanced by american bankers, but partly also to satisfy european bondholders and to make the politics of these republics more stable. nothing came of this significant project. but i should not care to ensure, except at a very high premium, the permanence of the political arrangements now existing in these regions when the panama canal is in working order and becomes more and more essential to the safety and prosperity of the great republic. the canal may in the long run be not "virtually" but actually "a part of the coastline of the united states." footnotes: [ ] six months. chapter xvi. the new ocean highways. i have already mentioned that england and europe gained much more from the opening of the suez canal than the united states. before the suez canal was opened, the voyage both from liverpool and from new york to asia and australia was made _via_ the cape of good hope. liverpool had then an advantage over new york of miles in the journey to all asiatic and australian as well as east african ports. when the suez canal was opened the route to asia was _via_ the mediterranean and red seas for both liverpool and new york. but new york is , miles from gibraltar, while liverpool is only , , so that liverpool has had an advantage of , miles instead of , as formerly, on the voyage to asiatic ports. in other words, liverpool gained a competitive benefit of , miles from the opening of the suez canal. now let us take the voyage to australia from new york and liverpool. from new york the journey is still made _via_ the cape of good hope, but from liverpool chiefly _via_ suez. liverpool is , miles nearer than new york to australia _via_ suez, but only miles nearer round the cape. liverpool therefore has owed a competitive "pull" of , miles over new york to the suez canal. let us remember, therefore, that the suez canal has largely diminished the advantage which the western route sought by columbus and his successors would once have conferred upon england and europe in the voyage to the far east. the opening of the panama canal will readjust the balance which was tilted against the united states when the suez canal was opened in . the united states will gain far more than the western ports of europe from the new highway through the american isthmus. speaking broadly, suez was a british, panama is an american proposition. there are so many facts and figures in connection with the changes in distances and sea-routes as the result of the construction of the panama canal that it may save the reader's attention to lay down a few more obvious effects in succession. we can then go on to look at the subject in closer detail. . the canal reduces the distance between new york on the eastern and all ports on the western seaboard of america _north of panama_ by , geographical miles. the saving from new orleans is much greater. . liverpool is brought , miles nearer to all ports on the western seaboard of america (of course including canada) north of panama. . the saving between new york and the pacific ports of america _south of panama_ depends how far south those ports are. but on the average the shortening of distance is , miles. the saving varies from , miles at panama to about , miles at punta arenas, the strange little town on the straits of magellan. new orleans and the gulf ports benefit still more. [illustration: ocean routes] . liverpool is brought on an average about , miles nearer to pacific ports of america _south of panama_. the shortening of distance varies from , miles at panama itself down to zero at a point between punta arenas and coronel (the most southerly commercial port of chile). . all the pacific ports of the americas are, _via_ panama, , miles nearer to new york than to liverpool. . the panama canal will not bring any port in australia or the east indies, nor any ice-free port in asia or asiatic islands, nearer to any european port. of all ports on the western pacific coasts, only those of new zealand and a few very chilly ones in siberia will be brought nearer to liverpool. . all of asia and all of australia, with the exception of new zealand, will be nearer europe by way of the suez canal than by way of the panama route. . nearly all japan, shanghai, hong-kong, the philippines, new guinea, all australia (save a far western strip), and all new zealand are brought nearer the atlantic and gulf ports of the united states and the atlantic ports of canada. . the relative distances from new york and liverpool to the atlantic coast of south america (nearly all way down), to africa, and to asiatic ports south of hong-kong are unchanged. . it is new york and not liverpool which is now nearer to yokohama, sydney, and melbourne. wellington, in new zealand, formerly equidistant between the two great ports, is now , miles nearer to new york than to liverpool. sydney, which was formerly over , miles nearer liverpool (_via_ suez) than new york (_via_ cape of good hope), now becomes , miles nearer new york (_via_ panama) than liverpool (_via_ suez). . nearly the whole of the atlantic seaboard in the old world and the new is brought nearer to the pacific ports of the united states and canada. . the panama canal cannot invade the main traffic field of the suez route--the countries of southern asia, east africa, the red sea, and the persian gulf. the competitive region of the two canals lies east of singapore. [illustration: the isthmus of panama] the reader will gather from the last proposition that the scene of the new battle of the routes will lie in the western pacific, and this probably will also be the scene of the main industrial and commercial competitions of the future. it is in these regions, australasia and the countries along the pacific asiatic coasts, that the traffic zones of the suez and panama canals touch or overlap. the positive effect on relative distances from american and european ports is of great importance to commercial developments in these regions. let us look at the geographical results of the panama canal a little more closely. on pages , are two tables transcribed from the official report of on panama canal traffic and tolls, by mr. emory r. johnson. the following tables are given by dr. vaughan cornish:-- reduction miles new york to-- (geog.). yokohama { by suez , } { by panama , } , shanghai { by suez , } { by panama , } , sydney { by cape of good hope , } { by panama (_via_ tahiti) , } , melbourne { by cape of good hope , } { by panama (_via_ tahiti) , } , wellington, { by straits of magellan , } n.z. { by panama , } , hong-kong { by suez , { by panama , manila { by suez , } (philippines) { by panama _via_ san francisco } { and yokohama , } { by panama, honolulu and guam , comparative distances (in nautical miles) from new york and liverpool to new zealand, australia, philippines, china and japan, _via_ suez and panama canals. ----------+--------------------------+-------------------------+---------- | new york _via_ | liverpool _via_ |difference | panama canal. | suez canal. |in favour to +----------------+---------+---------------+---------+of suez -, | ports of call. |distance.| ports of call.|distance.|panama +. ----------+----------------+---------+---------------+---------+---------- wellington|panama and | , |aden, colombo, | | | tahiti | | king george | | | | | sound, and | | | | | melbourne | , | + , sydney | " | , |aden, colombo, | | | | | king george | | | | | sound, | | | | | adelaide, and| | | | | melbourne | , | + , adelaide |panama, tahiti, | , |aden, colombo, | | | sydney, and | | and king | | | melbourne | | george sound | , | + manila |panama, san | , |aden, colombo, | | | francisco, and| | and singapore| , | - , | yokohama | | | | hong-kong | " | , | " | , | - , shanghai | " | , |aden, colombo, | | | | | singapore, | | | | | and hong-kong| , | - tientsin | " | , |aden, colombo, | | | | | singapore, | | | | | hong-kong, | | | | | and shanghai | , | + yokohama |panama and san | , | " | | | francisco | | | , | + , ----------+----------------+---------+---------------+---------+---------- distances (in nautical miles) from liverpool _via_ the panama and suez routes to australia, new zealand, the philippine islands, china, and japan. ----------+---------------+---------+---------------+---------+---------- | | | | | in favour to | suez route. |distance.| panama route. |distance.|of suez -, | | | | | panama +. ----------+---------------+---------+---------------+---------+---------- adelaide |aden, colombo, | |panama, tahiti,| | | and king | | sydney, and | | | george sound | , | melbourne | , | - , melbourne |aden, colombo, | |panama, tahiti,| | | king george | | and sydney | , | - , | sound, and | | | | | adelaide | , | | | sydney |aden, colombo, | |panama and | | | king george | | tahiti | , | - | sound, | | | | | adelaide, and| | | | | melbourne | , | | | wellington|aden, colombo, | | " | , | + , | king george | | | | | sound, and | | | | | melbourne | , | | | manila |aden, colombo, | |panama, san | | | and singapore| , | francisco, | | | | | and yokohama | , | - , hong-kong | " | , | " | , | - , tientsin |aden, colombo, | | " | , | - , | singapore, | | | | | hong-kong, | | | | | and shanghai | , | | | yokohama | " | |panama and san | | | | , | francisco | , | - ----------+---------------+---------+---------------+---------+---------- as figures are rather confusing and difficult to retain in the memory, let us find a more graphic way of indicating this zone in the western pacific where the chief conflict of canal and commerce is likely to take place in the future. let us mark out a block of sea and land between the lines of latitude ° north and ° south and the lines of longitude ° east and ° east of greenwich. this zone includes japan and korea, shanghai and the philippines, new guinea, and all australia except the farthest western coastline. new zealand lies outside it. now along its western margin, the suez and panama routes to new york are equal in length. along its eastern margin, which lies outside japan and australia (_not_ new zealand), and only traverses the scattered islets of the pacific, the suez and panama routes to liverpool are equal in length. now look down an imaginary line near the centre of the zone but running rather west of north and east of south. along this line all places are the same distance from new york and liverpool by panama and suez respectively. can we, then, roughly forecast the changes in ocean trade-routes which will result from this new channel of communication between east and west? for this purpose we may divide the world traffic into three parts--firstly, that part of it which the canal is almost certain to secure; secondly, that for which it will have to fight with competitive routes; thirdly, that which it will have no chance of securing. as regards the first, panama will almost certainly attract most, if not all, the traffic which flows from the eastern american and gulf ports to hawaii and the west coast of north and south america, and of the traffic from the united kingdom and the west of europe to the whole western seaboard of america. we have already seen the regions where the panama canal will have to compete with the existing routes. roughly, they comprise pacific asia, a part of the east indies, and australasia. these regions represent an enormous volume of traffic from which panama will have to try to detach as large a share as possible. the third part is the main traffic-field of suez--that is, southern asia, east africa, the red sea, and the persian gulf. no efforts on the part of panama, no reductions of canal tolls, could possibly lure any of this traffic from its determination to suez; the competitive region of the two canals lies all east of singapore, and the greater part of the commerce of that region with western europe will still continue to move _via_ suez. the question of tolls at panama is, of course, very important in its bearing upon the future popularity of the canal. it would certainly not have done to make the panama charges higher than those at suez. these latter have been reduced as from january , . they are now . francs ($ . ) per net ton for loaded vessels. the passenger tolls are francs a passenger above twelve years of age, and francs for each child from three to twelve years old. if these figures had been exceeded at panama the traffic there would have suffered. on the other hand, the attempt to attract traffic by a great reduction on tolls would have involved a loss on the assured traffic between the eastern and western coasts of america which would have more than counterbalanced the probable gain. mr. taft's proclamation fixing the panama tolls will be found at the end of the book. it will be seen that the charge of $ . is almost identical with the suez toll. there are, however, to be no passenger tolls at panama. it must not be forgotten that the suez canal could very well afford to lower its charges to meet the new competition. a dividend of per cent. leaves a considerable margin for this purpose. [illustration] and we must remember that tolls, however important, are not by any means the only determinants of traffic-routes. all sorts of commercial and freight considerations come into play. for example, the shortest way from japan to the eastern coasts of north america will be _via_ panama. fully loaded vessels will certainly go that way. but the ship that leaves the land of the cherry blossom only partly loaded and wanting to make up a full freight may choose the route past asia and through the suez canal as being more likely to serve that object. then the cost of coal is an important point. other things being equal, shipowners will select the routes by which coal is cheapest and the coaling stations nearest each other. with plenty of cargo coming along and good freight rates it is desirable to reserve as little bunker space as possible. i cannot go into this question at any great length, but in the competition with the suez route it will be quite as important to have abundant and cheap coal at colon (the pun is accidental!) and panama as to keep the transit dues moderate. but we have not yet exhausted the motives which may help to prompt the choice of one route rather than another. there is the question of climatic conditions--storms and winds and currents. in this respect panama should have a decided advantage over suez. the red sea, as everybody knows, is red hot. this is not good for some sorts of cargo, and so terrible is the heat at times that the stokers are said to be unable to maintain the steam at full pressure. this may involve an appreciable delay in the , -mile run from suez to aden. moreover, from a temper and character point of view, the north pacific and caribbean are distinctly superior to the indian ocean and the north atlantic. the deliverance which the panama canal will afford to many vessels and steamship lines from the perils and savageries of "cape stiff," as the sailors call the horn, or the reefs and currents of magellan's straits, is in itself one of the blessings of the new route. travellers tell us that the biggest ocean rollers in the world are found on the pacific coast of america just a little north of the southern straits. for these reasons insurance rates _via_ panama are likely to be lower than those round the far south of the american continent. there is good reason to believe that the panama canal will pay its way without imposing any new burden on the taxpayers of the united states. it will probably not produce the dividends of the suez canal. it will have cost four times as much, and is unlikely for many years to command quite as large a volume of traffic. the increase in the traffic at suez has been enormous during the last fifteen years, owing largely to the development of the resources of the far east with the help of western capital. the net tonnage of vessels passing through the canal in was , , , and the total passengers were , . all forecasts of the traffic _via_ panama must, of course, be speculative, but it may be mentioned that the net register tonnage of vessels that might have advantageously used a panama canal in is officially estimated at , , . before discussing the more economic and commercial results likely to follow from the opening of the canal, there are one or two subsidiary questions we may consider. is the panama canal likely to be used by sailing vessels? the prevailing idea is that it will be no more practicable a route for such craft than the suez canal. winds, tides, and currents have much more to say to the sailing vessel than to the steamer, and the terminals of the canal, especially on the pacific end, are not always easy of approach to wind-driven ships. one effect of the opening of the panama canal will be to hasten the decline of these old-fashioned and more beautiful craft. it must not be imagined that the "windjammer" or "limejuicer," in the sea-going vernacular, has already nearly disappeared from the seven seas. a great deal of the world's commerce is still carried on in such vessels. they still battle their way round the horn laden with the timber of oregon or british columbia and the nitrates of chile. but the unsuitability of the panama transit for sailing vessels will unquestionably lead to their quicker decline. it is interesting to see how steam has gradually ousted sail in the world's shipping. in - the sea-going sail tonnage of the world was , , tons. this declined to , , in - ; to , , in - ; and to , , in - ; while steam tonnage increased from , , in - to , , in - . for many reasons, climatic and economic, we may safely assume that the panama canal will be confined exclusively to "steam circles." steamers will be substituted for the "limejuicers" in every canal-using line, and the snowy canvas will be banished to other regions. hitherto, such freights as coal, lumber, grain, nitrate of soda, and sugar have been considered specially suited for sail transportation, because they are shipped as full vessel cargoes and do not require rapid transportation or delivery. but even such cargoes are certain to be largely transferred to the steamship when it is realized that the panama canal is "no road" for sailing vessels. another interesting question is the probable effect of the canal on the american mercantile marine. the ocean-going merchantmen of the united states engaged in the foreign trade are practically non-existent, though the "coasting" trade, which includes the trade of hawaii and the philippines with the united states, is strictly reserved to american vessels, ships flying foreign flags being entirely excluded. but these latter, which are in the main british, carry on all the foreign trade of the united states with south america, new zealand, australia, northern china and japan. it is almost unbelievable that in there was not a single steamship flying the flag of the united states between the united states ports and those of brazil, the argentine, chile, or peru. the mails from new york and the other atlantic ports of the american republic go, or went until quite recently, _via_ europe, though new york is miles nearer brazil, etc., than the old world coasts.[ ] the reasons for this want of a foreign-trade mercantile marine are chiefly the greater cost of shipbuilding in the united states and the requisitions with regard to wages and food of the american trade-unions. the result of the high standards of comfort thus imposed has been that the cost in wages and food to run american ships under american conditions across the pacific is double that in european or japanese steamers. it is scarcely to be wondered at, therefore, that some people in the united states regard the panama canal as a very disinterested gift from the united states to humanity at large, especially perhaps to great britain and japan--as an example of altruism run mad. but while the united states may not be ready to reap the full advantage of the canal at the start, it is highly probable that its opening will lead to a rapid growth in the united states merchant service. a larger coasting fleet will be required with larger vessels, and this will lead to a general development of the larger classes of shipbuilding. at present no vessels are permitted to fly the american flag unless american-built. a large number of american-owned vessels are therefore registered under the flags of some foreign nation. as the united states begins to compete in cheapness and efficiency of shipbuilding with other countries, the chief motive for this foreign registration will be removed. great britain cannot expect to be the chief carrier of united states trade for ever. this is indeed one of many directions in which the opening of the panama canal may tend rather to the disadvantage than to the benefit of the united kingdom. there is no reason why the united states should not build up a mercantile marine as swiftly as germany and japan have done. england will have to consider seriously this and many other probable effects of the canal closely touching her most important interests. i will conclude this chapter with an interesting little fact which may already have occurred to the reader. from the moment the panama canal is opened it will be possible for the first time to sail all round the world from england wholly in the northern hemisphere and without crossing the equator. who will be the first circumnavigator along the all-northern trail? footnotes: [ ] many persons may have expected these countries to be much nearer new york. they do not realize that _nearly all south america lies east of north america_. washington is on the same meridian as callao on the coast of peru. antofagasta and iquique, the chief nitrate ports of chile, have the longitude of boston. the eastern point of brazil lies , miles east of new york, and is _equidistant from new york bay and the english channel_. chapter xvii. the canal and the americas. the likely effects of the panama canal on international commerce and the development of the world's resources is so big a subject that one can do little more than indicate the larger probabilities. the influence of the canal on the british empire must be left to another chapter. here we shall have to consider mainly the case of the united states, the country which stands to gain far more than any other from this new link between east and west. the most obvious result of the new event, as it was the main object of the canal's construction, must be the immensely quickened all-sea communication between the eastern and western coasts of north america. the motive for the building of the canal was military rather than commercial. it was rendered necessary by painful experience during the spanish-american war of the effects of the , -mile sea journey between the two seaboards of the republic. but the commercial results will not be the less important because they were not foremost in the object and motive of the canal-builders. it is pretty clear that what we may call the main developmental effect of the canal will be felt along that pacific coast of the americas which has been so long shut out from the great centres of industrial enterprise in the new world and the old. we are so accustomed to regard the united states as a fully developed and fully equipped country that we forget how slowly her population and industries advanced westward from the atlantic coasts. even now it cannot be said that the railroad communications between the east and the pacific states beyond the great mountain-divide of the rockies are fully equal to the carriage of the produce which is or should be exchanged between east and west. the transcontinental lines have scarcely yet furnished a cheap and satisfactory connection between the pacific coast states and their largest and most natural markets. hitherto the railways have had to compete with only three alternative routes: ( ) the all-sea route round cape horn for sailers, and through magellan straits for steamers; ( ) the route _via_ panama, with railroad transit over the isthmus; ( ) the route _via_ tehuantepec, with railroad transit over that isthmus from puerto mexico on the gulf to salina cruz on the pacific. the new canal will be a much more formidable competitor. it is highly important that the industries of the united states should have the benefit of this healthy tug-of-war between railroad and canal, and the government is perfectly justified in keeping that competition open, even to the length of forbidding the use of the canal to ships owned, controlled, or operated by railway companies. there is no fear that the panama canal, even if it prospers exceedingly, will ruin the transcontinental railroads. the report of the isthmian canal commission in made some interesting remarks on this subject, and they are as pertinent to-day:-- the competition of the canal will affect, first, the volume and rates of the through business of the pacific railroads, and secondly, the amount of their local traffic. at the beginning of their existence these railways depended almost entirely upon their through traffic; but their chief aim throughout their history has been to increase the local business, which is always more profitable than the through traffic; and although the great stretch of country crossed by them is still in the infancy of its industrial development, the local traffic of some, if not all, of the pacific roads has already become of chief importance. a vice-president of one of the railway systems states that since "the increase in business of the transcontinental lines has not come from the seaports, but from the development of the intermediate country." the canal can certainly in no wise check the growth of this local traffic, and the evidence strongly supports the belief entertained by many persons that the canal will assist largely in the industrial expansion of the territory served by the pacific railways. if this be true, the proximate effect of the isthmian canal in compelling a reduction and readjustment of the rates on the share of the transcontinental railway business that will be subject to the competition of the new water route, will be more than offset by the ultimate and not distant expansion of the through and local traffic, that must necessarily be handled by rail. it seems probable that the increase in the population of the country, and the growth in our home and foreign trade, will early demonstrate the need of the transportation service of both the canal and the railways. the reduction of freight through the use of the canal is sure to give a big stimulus to many leading industries of the pacific states. one of the most important is the lumber industry. california and oregon are very rich in forests of pine, spruce, cedar, and redwood, the last being much in demand in atlantic countries. a good deal of this timber is exported to europe and the eastern states, and it has all to be carried in sailing ships round cape horn. it is calculated that the opening of the panama canal will reduce the freight by per cent., which means that all this pacific coast timber will be correspondingly increased in value. the exports eastwards are sure to advance rapidly with the new means of transport. grain, wine, and fruit will benefit, and the manufactured goods from the industrial states of the east will flow through the same channel to the western states in an ever-increasing volume. every staple industry of the united states will feel the new stimulus, and england and europe generally are certain to feel the pressure of this new competitive power of the american republic. in cotton and iron goods especially the exports from the eastern and southern states are bound to forge ahead. manufactured cotton goods exported from the southern states have had to be carried by rail to the western ports, and thence by steamer to china and japan, or else eastward by the suez canal, sometimes even _via_ england or germany. we may imagine what a boon the panama canal will be to this trade, and how conveniently it will lie for the gulf ports and all their raw and manufactured exports. american iron and steel will also be immensely strengthened for competition with those of england and europe in the markets of china, japan, british australasia, and along the coast of south america. we need not describe in detail effects which are likely to be felt over the entire range of american industry. the united states appears, indeed, to be on the verge of tremendous developments. in a paper read before the royal colonial institute,[ ] that well-known physical geographer and economist, dr. f. b. vrooman, gave us a hint of further american enterprises in civil engineering, after the panama canal is opened:-- the isthmian canal is but a part of the greater american waterways project. as soon as this is finished it is possible that the united states will start in a large way with the project of the artificial canalization of the mississippi with its , miles of already navigable waters and a drainage basis of , , square miles. the cutting-through of an ocean-ship canal to the great lakes will make seaport towns of the canadian cities on the lakes ontario, erie, and superior. the saskatchewan and the red river can be canalized for , miles, and a short haul from winnipeg will open the whole saskatchewan valley from near the foot-hills of the rocky mountains--downstream, but for this short portage--all the way to the gulf of mexico, and thence to panama and the pacific ports. every transcontinental freight-rate in canada and the united states will be reduced, and perhaps some in the middle interior. as this great southern movement starts up the industries of the southern states will receive a new impulse. the gulf of mexico and the caribbean sea will spring into a new life, together with the west indies and central america and the vast and fertile interior drained by the orinoco and the amazon. central and southern america. but there are no countries which will hear the call of the canal so nearly and clearly as those of central and southern america. it is astonishing how that forty-mile wide land barrier between the two oceans has isolated all the western shore of the continent. the panama canal railroad has done very little to modify the situation. the pacific coast of america has looked westwards over its waste of waters, and has scarcely been reached by the industrial and economic forces at work behind it in the old and new worlds. its trade has been carried on mostly with europe, and especially england, in sailing vessels that have plodded round the distant horn. an interesting example of this geographical and commercial detachment of the west coast of central and south america is furnished by the port of mazatlan in western mexico. from this place there are considerable exports of logwood and mahogany. but thirty times as much of this lumber has gone to europe as to the east of the american continent. on the opposite or eastern side of mexico is tampico, where the returns of trade are just the reverse, the united states being the largest customer for its exports. despite the old spanish paved roads across the isthmus at panama, by which the silver and pearls of peru and the pacific were conveyed to nombre de dios and porto bello, for shipment to spain, despite the sixty years of the little panama railway, the american continent even in its narrowest parts has been something like an impenetrable screen between east and west. four centuries of continued agitation and effort to get the water through show how seriously this physical divorce has been felt, and give an earnest of the large results which are sure to follow the completion of the task. there have been other reasons for the backward development of western south america. to begin with, the spanish, not a progressive and pioneering race, laid their hands on these countries four hundred years ago, and have held them politically or racially ever since. this would not in itself have kept out the anglo-saxon or the german. but these countries have not yet been greatly needed as an outlet of the surplus populations of europe. even the united states is very far from being filled up, and canada is likely to be giving away farms for many years to come. the teutonic race, to which above all others the trusteeship of western civilization is committed, has left these spanish americas, with their revolutions coming almost as frequently and regularly as the seasons, comparatively unvisited. as yet the north european emigration to the southern continent has been mainly confined to argentina and southern brazil. in one respect the isthmian breakwater has been profitable to these states of the pacific coast. it has sheltered them largely from the negro element which has spread so widely over the west indies and the southern united states. but japan and china are already there, and the yellow will be laid on more and more thickly unless these countries are brought quickly within the zone of western ideas and enterprise. and that process is likely to begin with the opening of the canal. the backwardness of these regions is indeed almost unbelievable. most people think of them as producing mainly nitrates and revolutions. but their possible resources and products are illimitable, and are only awaiting the organized capital of the west to be made available for human service. as yet these latin republics are in their middle ages of development. there are few railways, only one continuous transcontinental line having been completed between valparaiso, through mendoza, to buenos aires. their internal communications are carried on mainly by the pack mule, as they have been since the days of pizarro and valdivia. each country, of course, has a foreign trade, but the people of the interior, the indians or mixed breeds, live in isolated communities which are self-sufficing, raise their own food and make their own simple manufactures, knowing little or nothing of the products of foreign countries. the whole coast and its hinterland is engaged almost solely in what are known as "extractive" industries--that is, in mining or agriculture. the exports consist mainly of foodstuffs and raw materials, nitrate, ores of copper, silver, and gold, grain, sugar, cotton, cocoa, coffee, wool, hides, rubber, and woods. with these the people pay for their manufactured goods, and these come mainly from europe, and chiefly also from the united kingdom. the mineral wealth of the northern parts, especially the andean plateau, is still enormous, though vast quantities have been extracted. for centuries the andes furnished the civilized world with most of the bullion used for its current coinage. between and peru alone sent out £ , , worth of silver. bolivia has contributed £ , , worth; the famous mines of potosi alone accounted for £ , , worth of this metal. the nitrate works of chile are in the hands of englishmen and germans, and american and other foreigners hold the sugar plantations of peru. but, as i have said, the range of production is enormous and only awaits the stimulus of imported capital. to give one example of the variety of products, it is said that the aconcagua valley in chile would alone furnish annually from its vineyards , , gallons of claret, if the grapes were not used to produce a local drink named "chica." there is no sign of the exhaustion of any of the natural products of these regions. even the nitrate of soda, that most valuable of fertilizers, though it is being shovelled out at a great rate, covers about , acres, or about miles from north to south, and is sufficient to last for a very long time to come. nitrate, minerals, wheat, barley, wool, hides--these are the main exports of the pacific west, the returning imports being cotton goods, machinery, steel rails, woollens, coal, and all sorts of miscellaneous manufactures and supplies. but, as i said, the trade has been almost wholly with europe, england enjoying a very predominant position. the united states have competed with europe at great disadvantages. the trade has been mostly carried on in sailing vessels. now such craft, to get from new york to south america, have been obliged to sail eastwards almost as far as the canaries in order to catch the trade winds and weather cape st. roque on the coast of brazil. the sailing vessel from europe, on the other hand, sails right past the canaries, and can give the american ship ten days' start in the journey to any part of south america south or west of the most easterly point of brazil. if the reader will turn back to the chapter on the new distances he will see how the little streak of blue water at panama will alter all this. take one little fact to illustrate the change. callao, on the coast of peru, is, before the opening of the canal, farther by steam from new york than is the south pole, but the panama canal will bring the city , miles nearer to new york by steam than san francisco will then be. the canal will reduce the distance from new york to the chilean nitrate port of iquique by , miles (nautical), to valparaiso by , , to coronel (farther south) by , , to valdivia (about , miles north of magellan's straits, nearly at the farthest southern limit of the commercially important part of western south america) by , . take iquique, an important north chilean nitrate port. by panama this place is , miles from new york, but , from liverpool. their respective distances _via_ magellan were , and , . it looks, therefore, as though the united states, with its new advantages, which begin when the first vessel is passed through the panama locks, would have a good chance of securing for the future the main share of the south american trade. its cotton, iron and steel goods, electrical machinery, etc., will be able to compete on very different terms with those of england and germany. cotton manufactures have reached chile and the other countries of pacific south america by a rather absurdly roundabout route. the raw cotton has been grown in the southern parts of the united states, carried to europe for manufacture, and brought back to south america _via_ the straits of magellan. these goods will, we may be sure, tend in future to go direct from the american factories _via_ new york, charleston, or new orleans, without trans-shipment, thus saving about , miles of transportation. a very small part of the american trade with these countries has passed by the panama railroad. the rates charged by the steamers which have picked up the goods for the west coast at panama have been kept so high as to be practically prohibitive. it has actually been cheaper to send goods from the united states by way of england or germany--that is, a journey of , miles--than by way of panama, a journey of three or four thousand. one of the surest results, then, of the panama canal opening will be a rapid development of the pacific coasts of america, especially of south america, and a great expansion of trade between these countries and the united states. the effect of the canal on the atlantic coasts and hinterland of south america will naturally be less striking. there has never been much interchange of trade between the two coasts of the southern continent, for the simple reason that their products are not complementary but mostly identical. most of the trade of the eastern coast states is with the countries of the north atlantic. but some trade to the more northerly and tropical parts of this coast is certain to flow through the canal. lumber from the pacific coasts of north america is used in atlantic south america, and a part of this trade, which is likely to grow in extent, will be passed through the canal. it should be noticed, however, that the temperate reaches of the eastern coast of south america farther to the south will be nearer the pacific coasts of the united states and canada _via_ the horn and the straits of magellan owing to the big easterly projection of brazil. we must leave the probable effects of the panama canal on the british possessions in america to another chapter. it has not been possible to deal with prospective commercial developments in great detail. only some general idea could be given of the vast changes and developments in progress. on the day on which i am writing the washington correspondent of _the times_ summarizes the meaning and effect of the panama canal in three rather formidable words. he says it "symbolizes commercial pan-americanism." the canal is going to help america to keep its trade more to itself. it represents in commerce and economics what the monroe doctrine represents in politics. it will immensely assist the united states to become the chief industrial supplier of the great continent, with the other states mainly as agricultural or mining annexes. one incident in the furthering of this ambition was the attempt to conclude a treaty of reciprocity with canada, the effect of which, as mr. taft admitted, would have been to make canada such an "annexe" of the republic. the canadian people, however, realizing the ulterior political and commercial effects of such a treaty, refused to ratify it. canada, in fact, belongs to another political and economic system. she gives valuable trade-preference to the manufactures of the mother-country in the old world, and there is happily no reason to believe that she will abandon the imperial ideals for the objects of continental pan-americanism. after all, the citizens of canada and the united states are mostly of the same stock, speaking the same language and cherishing the same great traditions. the two branches of the anglo-saxon family ought to be able, while each maintaining its own life and growth, to remain happily side by side, sharing in the new prosperity which the world owes to this latest achievement of the great republic. footnotes: [ ] march , . chapter xviii. the canal and the british empire. one of the most important results of the panama canal, one which is likely to have the largest influence on future political history, seems scarcely to have been noticed by writers on this subject. i have shown how much nearer australia and new zealand are brought to new york than to liverpool, owing to the isthmian passage. they are brought of course proportionately nearer to the eastern provinces, which are also the governmental headquarters of canada. but the moving away, so to speak, of these great countries from england, and their closer approximation to the great and growing branches of the anglo-saxon stock in america, has the effect of locating the centre of gravity of the english-speaking races more firmly and permanently than ever in the new world. when canada, australia, and new zealand have grown for another quarter of a century, and the united states have reaped for so long the advantage in wealth and power of the new waterway, the little islands of the united kingdom may begin to appear as a detached and distant fragment, rather than as the "heart and hearth," of the british empire and the english-speaking world. in the eighteenth century, when the english plantations in america began to develop their manufactures and had increased rapidly in population, the question was discussed in england how long she could continue to control an oversea empire, likely to be in time more populous and prosperous than the home-country itself, from these far-away islands of the old world. it was actually suggested at that time that the king of england should carry his crown and throne where the most part of his subjects were congregated. that suggestion is not likely to be repeated. we have found a way of harmonizing local self-government with imperial unity. but the position of england in her empire is sure to be greatly modified as time goes on, and the panama canal, by bringing these vast and undeveloped continents and isles of the far south-west so much nearer to north america than to the imperial centre, cannot fail to have some influence in this direction. from a commercial point of view, its effect will be to increase the value and importance of those trade preferences which australia gives the home country in her markets. probably no single country in the world, certainly no portion of the british empire, stands to gain so tremendously from the opening of the canal as british columbia. england has not yet realized what enormous resources are locked up in this province of the furthest west, which looks out from a hundred harbours to the pacific and across to the awakening east. the long haul across the continent, the interminable sea-trail round the horn, twice crossing the equator, kept british columbia, until lately, outside the thought and interest, not only of englishmen, but even of the canadians of the administrative east. even with the gradual filling of the empty middle and west, geography would have continued to be against british columbia. but the panama canal makes all the difference. this province will no longer look vaguely and dreamily to the western sea-spaces and a still half-slumbering orient. she will suddenly find herself at one end of a sea-route which will shorten her distance from new york by , miles and from liverpool by , miles. her timber and other produce will no longer toil wearily in the holds of the "windjammer" down the whole length of northern, central, and southern america. there at balboa, less than halfway down, is the entrance of the long-desired short-cut to the world-centres of progress and enterprise. the electric thrill of this new circuit will be felt not only along the havens and fjords of the british columbian coast, but nearly a thousand miles inland. we may say that almost the whole western half of canada, where the golden wheat frontiers are ever advancing, will face about and henceforth look west instead of east. all the corn and produce of alberta and western saskatchewan will flow, not eastwards as heretofore, but to the pacific shores, there to be shipped for transit _via_ the canal to the southern and eastern united states, to the north and east of south america, and to the old world over the atlantic. even the eastern and western fronts of the dominion will feel the grip of a new link, which may serve important naval and defensive interests for canada. the new pacific outlet will have many advantages over the eastern. for one thing, it is always ice-free, whereas the eastern route is icebound for five months in the year. even now, i understand, it is appreciably cheaper in winter to send wheat from calgary to liverpool by vancouver than by st. john's, new brunswick. the freight-rate between british columbian and united kingdom ports should be at least halved when the canal is in operation. of all cities in any clime or hemisphere, vancouver seems to stand most surely on the threshold of a new and mighty future. she will have "greatness thrust upon her." her citizens are preparing for the spacious days that are about to set in. a "great vancouver" will probably arise from the nine local municipalities, to provide an area and administration worthy of the dawning era. dr. f. b. vrooman eloquently voiced the sentiment of the great port and of british columbia at a recent luncheon of the progress club at vancouver. he said:-- we are on the verge of nothing less than a revolution of the world's commerce, and industry, and finance, which now, as sure as fate, are destined to be transferred to the lands of the pacific ocean. it is not only revolution. it is such a revolution as never has been and never again can be foreordained before chaos primeval for this twentieth century of the christian era, for there are no more hemispheres to cut in two. there are no more oceans, with half the water area on the world and twenty million square miles more than all the land surface of the globe, to be suddenly transferred into the arena of world trade. there are no more continents with the widest reaches, the richest resources, and the densest populations of the world to be awakened and developed after asia has achieved its resurrection. therefore i say to you that there has got to be one port at least in the british empire big enough to be equal to the greatest opportunity the world ever offered any city since time began. and if that city is not destined to be vancouver, it will be for one, and for only one, reason--because the men of vancouver have been too timid and feeble, too shortsighted and too little to take hold of what the good god has offered them. i have already alluded to the question of coal in connection with the new canal. all the new routes will have to be cheaply and abundantly "coaled," or they will be at a great disadvantage in the competition for traffic with suez. the isthmian canal commission of - pointed out that the coaling stations at san francisco, seattle, and vancouver will in the future bear about the same relation to the route _via_ the panama canal to the orient as the coaling stations at or near the suez canal bear to the route from europe _via_ suez to the orient. among the pacific islands, at colon and panama, and among the west indies coal will have to be stored in big quantities for the tramps and liners and warships which will soon be drawn along these seaways by the new canal. british columbia has coal illimitable, and this interest alone ought to be quickly and mightily developed in the coming years. happily there are men of imagination and public spirit in this great pacific province of the empire who understand what the canal means to it in future wealth and welfare, and are preparing its people to take advantage of the new opportunities. let an eloquent british columbian, dr. vrooman again, open for us the broad and bright prospect:-- new markets will be found on the atlantic for british columbia lumber and paper. this new large demand will increase the price. but the saving of freight is an enormous item. the present freight-rates from vancouver to liverpool are sixteen dollars per , feet. the canal will give british columbia a rate of about eight dollars per , feet. this difference per , will add to the value of british columbia timber destined for europe. but it is for more reasons than this that british columbia is destined to be a vast imperial industrial workshop. while her agricultural and horticultural possibilities are far beyond what is generally supposed, british columbia is in natural resources and raw materials of industry one of the richest areas on the globe. but above all is she rich in mechanical power--water-power and coal. these are about to be opened up and developed. their development soon will be beyond computation, for, roughly speaking, there is not an investment in british columbia to-day which will not be directly increased in value by the new canal; but also much indirectly in the impetus given to development. this one thing--this canal--costing us nothing--will double, quadruple, and quintuple values out there in a few brief years. with easier access will come new trade, and new demands will create new products, and soon the innumerable water-powers of british columbia will start the wheels of a thousand new industries. the illimitable resources of the province will be opened up, developed, and utilized at home or shipped abroad. the value of every town lot and of every acre of land of the , square miles of the province will be greatly enhanced; town sites will be hewed out of the forests, and the forests themselves--every stick of wood of their , , acres of forest and woodland--will be increased in value directly, by reason of cheaper shipping alone, to the extent of several dollars per , feet; and in the items of lumber and wood-pulp alone the panama canal will make as a free gift to british columbia considerably more than the united states is spending on the whole canal. the mines of british columbia, which have already produced over £ , , , will leap forward with renewed prosperity. her fisheries, which have produced £ , , , will be more extensively developed and, let us hope, be made again a british asset--since they are wholly in the hands of the japanese, who not only send their earnings home to japan, but are criminally wasteful in their methods. the coal deposits of the province, which promise to be the most extensive in the world, will, with immense deposits of iron, be opened to the world's markets. it is said that the coal-fields of one small district in the kootenay are capable of yielding , , tons of coal a year for over seven thousand years, and a new district has been discovered within a twelvemonth which the provincial mineralogist told me on christmas eve was the most important economic discovery ever made in british columbia, where there are known to be , square miles of the best of anthracite, and which is probably the richest known anthracite district in the new world west of pennsylvania.[ ] the references to coal are especially interesting in this passage. it is an evidence of the public alertness in this matter that the british columbian government has just appointed a special commissioner "to investigate and report upon all circumstances and conditions incident to the production and sale or other disposition of coal in british columbia." it may be certain, therefore, that the opening of the canal will be followed by a rapid growth of exports from canadian ports, serving a thousand miles of hinterland, many of the vessels returning laden with the manufactures of the eastern united states and europe, both streams of traffic flowing through the isthmian canal. but we must not overlook the growth in passenger traffic. the sea-passage round by the canal from europe to the pacific states of north america will be much cheaper and to many people more pleasant than the fatiguing transcontinental railway journey. fresh brain and muscle will enter canada by its western portals, new needs will arise, new industries spring up, a new æon of progress and enterprise begin on the far pacific slopes when the first vessel mounts and descends the mighty steps of this wonder-working isthmian highway. the west indies. but there is another region of the british empire which will benefit only less, if less at all, than the pacific province of canada. the west indies will feel at once the throb of a new life and interest when the canal is thrown open to the world's traffic. these "pearls of ocean," the oldest of england's oversea possessions, have lain hitherto in what the americans call a "dead end." they are thrown across the entrances to a land-girt sea, the mediterranean of the new world, from which there has hitherto been no exit to the west or the south, but only a return by the same passages to east and north. a glance at a map will show how these islands, the greater and lesser antilles,[ ] cluster round the atlantic end of the canal and beset all the possible sea-routes from east and north and south-east. every vessel that makes from the atlantic for the canal entrance or quits the canal for the atlantic will have to pass through this star-thick storied archipelago. the islands naturally fall into two groups, with the names i have just mentioned. the greater antilles, lying further to the west and north-west, consist of jamaica, the bahamas, and the turks and caicos islands, these last being administered by jamaica. to this group belongs, geographically and historically, the mainland colony of british honduras, a territory rather larger than wales, whose great value england has scarcely begun to appreciate. the lesser antilles, stretched like a jewelled coronet round the eastern entrance to the caribbean, consist, north to south, of the virgin islands, st. kitts and nevis, antigua, montserrat, dominica (these forming the leeward islands confederation), st. lucia, barbados, st. vincent, grenada, trinidad, and tobago (the windward islands). with this group goes naturally british guiana, on the continent east of the spanish main, a territory much larger than great britain, which should also begin to develop its vast resources more adequately when the canal is opened. these islands, being largely inhabited by black people, cannot be entrusted with complete self-government like purely white communities. they are under various forms of what is known as crown colony government. for example, trinidad and the windward islands are under the complete control of the british colonial office, while barbados and jamaica enjoy a large measure of self-rule. but this division into a large number of small governments without any connection with each other is extremely expensive, and proposals have been made for a federation of the british west indies either in one great system, including them all, with british honduras and guiana thrown in, or in two systems embracing respectively the greater and the lesser antilles. england, it must be confessed, has treated her splendid west indian empire very badly. in order that she might have sugar "dirt-cheap" at home she allowed the great staple product of the isles and mainland, cane-sugar, to be brought to the verge of ruin by the competition of european bounty-fed beet-sugar. happily there was a statesman of strong imperial sympathies in england, mr. joseph chamberlain, who arranged the brussels sugar convention with certain powers of europe, all of which agreed to suppress their own bounties and to impose countervailing duties on bounty-fed sugar imported from countries outside the convention. this gave the west indies a fairer chance of competition, and they quickly felt the benefit. but the convention was always opposed in england by certain industries in which sugar is used and is therefore wanted as cheap as possible, and notice has recently been given, despite the protests and alarms of the west indies, that england intends to withdraw from the convention. and this, too, without any sort of compensation for the sugar-islands, which had begun to rely upon the protection against unfair competition afforded by that instrument. england has withdrawn her garrisons and, what is still more serious, almost her entire navy from the west indies. when the terrible earthquake occurred at kingston in jamaica in , there was no english ship-of-war anywhere near to render help and to maintain order, and this duty had to be performed by vessels of the american fleet. five days after that disaster the correspondent of _the times_ wrote: "it is difficult to describe the sense of humiliation with which an englishman surveys kingston harbour this evening--two american battleships, three german steamers, a cuban steamer, and one british ship; she leaves to-night, and the white ensign and the red ensign will be as absent from kingston harbour as from the military basins of kiel and cherbourg." and this is what england calls ruling the waves and being mistress of the seas! later in the same year she had another lesson. rioting broke out in st. lucia, once, but no longer, an important naval base. it was a whole week before an english cruiser arrived, though a dutch man-of-war, the _gelderland_, was anchored in the spacious harbour of castries, st. lucia's capital. this, one must allow, is a slovenly way of conducting a great empire. if these methods are pursued after the panama canal is opened, the results will be disastrous. a complete change will have to be made in the attitude of england and the colonial office to the british west indian islands. for these islands, instead of being tucked away in a sort of cul-de-sac, or inland lake, will henceforth be thrown right across or alongside the main highways of the world's ocean-traffic. look again at the map and see how the most direct sea-route from new york, the eastern states and canada to colon and cristobal comes down through the windward passage, between cuba and haiti, and then right past the eastern end of jamaica, quite close to the magnificent bay on which kingston stands. look again and see how the routes from liverpool, southampton, and the old world pass through the lesser antilles, either leeward or windward, further east. the most direct of these trails passes through the virgin islands, the most northerly group, and one of these is said to possess a harbour of which a good deal might be made. but this is not by any means the only line of approach to the entrance of the canal. a more southerly route near barbados or trinidad might be chosen, and certainly would be chosen by vessels intending to call at ports along the old spanish main. trinidad will indeed lie right across the direct route from ports on the pacific coasts of the united states and canada, as well as from the far east, to brazil and the atlantic coast of south america--a trade which may well grow to very large proportions, considering the vast undeveloped resources of the orinoco and amazon basins. valuable deposits of petroleum have also been discovered in trinidad, and this should add greatly to the wealth and importance of that island as oil replaces coal for fuel. oil-bunkering stations will be wanted at many points in the west indies. trinidad and kingston seem likely to benefit most from the traffic to and from cristobal, the new atlantic terminal of the canal. both are splendidly equipped by nature to act as coaling and repairing stations as well as centres for the distribution of goods. kingston has a superb harbour, and so also has port of spain (the capital of trinidad) in the gulf of paria, a natural landlocked harbour in which the fleets of the whole world could lie in safety--and, it is important to add, outside the hurricane zone. trinidad lies right athwart the mouths of the orinoco river. the years that are coming will see a tremendous development of the resources of these rich tropical basins, and port of spain is a natural port of exit and entry for the trade of regions where raleigh sought the fabled manoa or el dorado. it is too soon to try to indicate in detail the effects which the panama canal is likely to have on the trade and production of the islands themselves. the sugar industry is reviving under the influence of the treaty of reciprocity concluded between a large number of the islands and the dominion of canada. probably the sugar for the tea-tables and apple-tarts of vancouver, and a good many places far to the north and east, will be brought from the west indies to vancouver. but the islands will benefit more directly and immediately through the immense growth of traffic in the caribbean sea, the supply of coal and other necessities to this increased shipping, and in general through the publicity the islands will enjoy, which will mean a growing invasion of "globe-trotters," and consequently a big development of agricultural resources and an influx of new capital. an almost certain and immediate result of the new route, i may say in passing, will be a large increase of the tourist traffic to england and europe from the western coasts of north and south america. when the fares are lowered, and the traveller can do the journey wholly by water, without the trouble of changing from railroad to steamer, we may be sure that a rapidly growing tide of passengers will set eastwards as well as westwards through the canal. but, to return to the west indies, every nation is preparing to develop or establish in these regions harbours and coaling-stations and other facilities for its trade. for example, a danish company proposes to establish connection between copenhagen and san francisco through the island of st. thomas, one of the virgin group. at st. thomas, by the way, is shown the castle of edward teach, or "blackbeard," the very beau ideal of a skull and crossbones pirate who, according to "tom cringle's log," wore a beard in three plaits a foot long, and a full-dress purple velvet coat, under which bristled many pistols and two naked daggers over eighteen inches long, and who had generally a lighted match in his cocked hat with which he lit his pipe or fired a cannon, as the occasion demanded. "one of his favourite amusements when he got half-slewed was to adjourn to the hold with his compotators, and, kindling some brimstone matches, to dance and roar as if he had been the devil himself, until his allies were nearly suffocated. at another time he would blow out the candles in the cabin and blaze away with his loaded pistols at random right and left.... he was kind to his fourteen wives as long as he was sober, and never murdered above three of them." this very improper, but picturesque, gentleman was run down at last by h.m. frigates the _lime_ and the _pearl_ to a creek of north carolina, where, with thirty men in an eight-gun schooner, he made a desperate fight for life, killing and wounding more than the number of his own crew, and dying where he fell, faint with the loss of blood, overcome by superior numbers alone. whether "blackbeard" ever inhabited the castle at st. thomas may be questioned, but the island ought to benefit from the canal, as it lies right across the main entrance to the caribbean from the atlantic. the german steamship lines are awake to the new opportunities, the hamburg-amerika preparing for the new emigrant traffic between europe and western america. germany, it is said, is negotiating for a coaling-station in hayti, which, with its two negro republics, stands to profit immensely from the new conditions. no one has troubled much about this splendid island of late. it has had a dark and terrible history. discovered by columbus, who called it _hispaniola_, it was occupied by the spanish adventurers who found alluvial gold there. then it became the headquarters of the "buccaneers" who succeeded to the gallant and courtly sea-rovers of the elizabethan period and became formidable about the year . one of these buccaneers was that henry morgan who sacked the old town of panama in , and then became quite a respectable character, governor of jamaica, and dubbed knight by charles ii. it was in hispaniola, or hayti, that this species of western viking got their name. the island had been depopulated by the spaniards, but the cattle and hogs they had introduced became wild and repopulated the land in their own kind. thus hispaniola became a splendid provisioning base for the ships of the buccaneers. they hunted the cattle and preserved the meat, smoke-drying it in the indian fashion. this industry was called _boucanning_, and from it the buccaneers were named. hispaniola was the mother colony of the spanish empire in the west indies which has now wholly disappeared, very unfortunately for spain in view of the enhanced value these islands will now soon acquire. in it was ceded to france, and soon afterwards the emancipated slaves gained possession of the island, and after a period of anarchy and bloodshed established their independence. it is divided into two negro and mulatto republics, hayti and san domingo, and, as might have been expected, has sunk to the lowest depths of possible human degradation. fetishism, human sacrifice, and even cannibalism prevail in this sea-girt paradise, placed right among the possessions of the most civilized powers of the world and now across the main ocean routes from the west to the united states, canada, and the old world. can anybody believe that beautiful hispaniola, an island , square miles in extent, whose economic and strategic value will be increased a hundredfold in the years that are coming, will long remain under this blighting shadow of ignorance and barbarism? here certainly the panama canal will work a beneficent political change. france, too, is beginning to look up her possessions and opportunities in the caribbean. here her two islands, martinique and guadeloupe, are placed most conveniently for her ships coming westwards from havre, bordeaux, and st. nazaire, while tahiti and new caledonia will pass them on over the pacific to the far east. m. gilquin, writing in _la vie maritime_, says:-- in martinique, guadeloupe, new caledonia, and tahiti our commerce--that is to say, exports and imports together--was, in the year , ninety millions of francs; this rose to one hundred and twenty-two millions in , and it is probable that when we get the figures for they will be found to be even more favourable. it is certain that with the opening of the panama canal a great increase in traffic will take place, and possessing, as we do, ports so advantageously placed on the principal lines of route, we should benefit extensively by that development of traffic between europe and the western coasts of both north and south america. in order that we may reap the benefit, however, of the situation of our colonial harbours, it is necessary that these be taken in hand at once and rendered fit for the commerce they will be called upon to handle. and what is england doing to prepare for the new epoch in these regions where she has planted her flag on so many rich and beautiful islands, strung like pearls of necklace and tiara over these warm tropical seas? we hear of jamaica providing a new site for coaling and ships' repairs near kingston, of harbour improvements at port of spain (trinidad) and st. george (grenada), of oil-bunkering stations at barbados and st. lucia. all this is good, but england will have to enter upon a very different policy for the future with regard to her west indian empire. she must show that she values her priceless inheritance in and round the caribbean; that she is determined to maintain her position, to promote her commerce, and to further the interests of all her subjects in these regions. what the west indies need in order to be able to take the new opportunity by the forelock are organization and combination. schemes have been proposed for federalizing the constitution of the islands--placing them, that is, under a strong central government for those purposes that are common to them all. there are many difficulties in the way of such proposals. the nearest island of the greater antilles is , miles away from the nearest of the lesser, so that nature seems to have pronounced for the present against any federal scheme embracing all the islands. but space is always shrinking. wireless telegraphy and aeroplanes may make , miles an inconsiderable distance for such political purposes. the leeward islands have already been organized under a single federal government, and it ought to be possible to extend the system. moreover, the islands and the colonies on the continent are learning the value of common consultation and action in such matters as quarantine, and they meet together in annual agricultural conferences. we need not wait for a formal and complete federal constitution. some central council for consultation on the best means of taking advantage of the new opportunities, some central fund for promoting common objects, such as advertising the wonderful attractions of the islands and preparing for the birds of passage that will soon be coming from every civilized country in the old and new world--all this is possible now. it is important, too, that the west indian colonies should have some assembly or council through which they can address the imperial power with a single voice. england can give these colonies invaluable help. she can assist them to develop those steamship and telegraphic communications between the islands which are still so inadequate. she can indicate the best locations for harbours, coaling and repairing stations, and the other facilities which the new traffic will require. in view of the certain growth in wealth and prosperity, the colonies ought to be able by contributions among themselves to provide a substantial fund for objects they can carry out in common for the advantage of each and all. some valuable information and very practical suggestion will be found in the report of the west indian commission presided over by lord balfour of burleigh which was issued in . besides recommending a system of reciprocal trade preference between canada and the west indies, the commissioners made important proposals with regard to steamship and telegraphic communications. they favoured the public ownership and operation of the west indian cables and possibly of the whole system northward to halifax. they wrote:-- the single cables now connecting halifax with bermuda and bermuda with jamaica ought either to be duplicated or supplemented by wireless. a cable should be laid between bermuda and barbados, with a branch to trinidad, and perhaps another to british guiana. the cables which run from jamaica to the eastern islands and british guiana, sometimes single and sometimes duplicate, are very old. the bed of this part of the caribbean being trying for cables, we believe it would be found advantageous in most cases not to renew them, but to replace them by wireless installations. if these were well arranged, they might form a satisfactory connection between the eastern islands and jamaica and an alternative route to bermuda, and render unnecessary duplication of the suggested bermuda-barbados cable. while it is desirable to connect british honduras with jamaica, we consider that the probable volume of traffic would not warrant the cost of a cable. we therefore recommend the employment of wireless for this purpose. small installations should also be supplied to the outlying leeward and bahamas islands. england will have to foster the welfare of her possessions in these regions as she has never done before. the brussels convention forbade her to give any preference to sugar produced in her own dominions. but she is about to step out of that agreement, and will be at liberty, if she thinks fit, to encourage by preferential favours the one great staple for which these colonies can find no substitute. there may be differences of opinion on the fiscal question, but surely everybody must agree that the naval power and political prestige of the british empire must be represented in the caribbean sea by something rather more impressive than two small and obsolete cruisers. if england is to maintain her position against the severer competition she will now have to face, if she is to get her share of the new commerce now in prospect, she will have to give her traders, and shippers, and merchants all the confidence and encouragement which her flag should inspire. one or two well-equipped naval bases, a squadron of up-to-date cruisers for police and patrol work in the caribbean and down the pacific coasts of america, are indispensable. there must be no more earthquakes and destructions of british cities with never a british vessel to bring the sorely-needed help, no more riots in british islands with only a dutch warship standing helplessly by. both british columbia and the west indies have complained with reason of the absenteeism of the british fleet from their shores. the necessity for concentrating all our naval power in the north sea to meet the german menace has no doubt been the cause of these withdrawals from the outer sea-marches of the empire. but at any cost this wrong will have to be righted in the future. the west indies and british columbia are just the two portions of the empire which the panama canal may benefit most and most immediately, and they have a right to expect the support and co-operation of the imperial government wherever it can be given. all the powers of the world will be afloat on the caribbean and along the pacific sea-trails to balboa. let the white ensign return to these seas and shores as an earnest to all that the same national spirit that won for england her political and commercial supremacy avails to maintain it now and in the new era which is just dawning. footnotes: [ ] from the already-quoted paper read before the royal colonial institute, march , . [ ] marco polo, following aristotle's nomenclature, had given the name of "antilla" to an island off the eastern coast of asia. the name was transferred by columbus, or peter martyr, to the islands of the caribbean. chapter xix. the new pacific. some readers may perhaps think that these forecasts of the results of running a canal through the isthmus of panama are somewhat exaggerated. it is sufficient to point out to such a critic how different the course of american and world history might have been if nature had left a practicable channel between the two americas. the effect of erecting an artificial passage there in these days may be even greater than at present we can imagine. some of these results will be apparent at once; others may take decades or even centuries to materialize. many of the commercial and political results which have followed the construction of the suez canal were quite unforeseen in . we may be similarly mistaken in our forecast with regard to the panama canal. mr. bryce suggests that if a dozen experts were, in , to write out and place in the libraries of the british museum and of congress their respective forecasts bearing on this subject, sealed up and not to be opened till a.d. , they might make curious reading in that year. we may venture to predict that the results of panama will be much more profound and revolutionary than those of suez. the panama canal, says mr. bryce, is "the greatest liberty man has ever taken with nature." it will involve a far greater shifting of centres of gravity, political and commercial, a more radical readjustment of ideas and points of view than the suez canal. as the past four hundred years have belonged to the atlantic, the present century and others to come may belong to the pacific. that area of , , square miles may become the main theatre of the rivalries--commercial, political, and racial--of the most powerful nations of east and west. some believe that the world is advancing to that loud and fateful day when east and west will fight out their long difference in some naval and aerial armageddon on and above this miscalled pacific. without straining our imaginations to this extent, we may well observe that the canal brings eastern and western civilizations into much closer contact and competition than before. mr. kipling has informed us that east is east and west is west, and never the twain shall meet; and a still earlier author, desiring to give the penitent sinner the uttermost consolation, declared that the lord removes his transgressions from him "as far as the east is from the west." the new canal rather diminishes the force of such similitudes. it is not simply that the east of canada and the united states, as representing western civilization, is brought much closer to china and japan; that the passage from west to east which the early navigators vainly sought is now thrown open. the important thing is that the pacific is going to be the scene of commercial and political rivalries in which the slowly awakening people of china and the already wide-awake people of japan will take part. all the pacific ocean westward to degrees of longitude east of greenwich is brought nearer to england and the western coasts of europe. the entire ocean right back to the western extremity of australia is brought closer to the governmental and industrial centres of the united states and canada. english people have been thinking "atlantically" up to now. the pacific, held at an unimaginable distance by a broad continent or an abyss of ocean, has been known to them chiefly through stories of adventure among its coral islands familiar to their childhood. yet england is the greatest pacific power in the world. british columbia alone has a pacific sea-front longer than the united states, and holds , square miles, an area as large as france and spain put together. and yet the population of that vast and fertile province is only , . and what of the lonely continent that bounds this oceanic abyss in the far south-west? australia, without new zealand, is about , , square miles in extent, and has to-day a white population of about , , , or about , , people all told. the northern part of this mighty island-continent, known as the "territory," miles wide, miles long, and , square miles in extent, a region of great potential wealth, has a total european population of , ! and to the north and north-west there are a billion ( , , , ) brown and yellow people, packed together in crowded islands and territories, whose mere overspill would quickly fill that delectable island-continent to the south where england has done so little to make good her nominal title to sovereignty by actual and effective settlement. such a possession, an empire in itself, held so precariously and offering such a ceaseless temptation to swarming land-hungry hordes, is rather a weakness than a strength to england on the threshold of the new era. and from all this pacific region and its adjuncts where she has secured all the empty and desirable plots and pegged out so many claims for posterity, she has had to withdraw her fleets, as rome had to draw in her legions from the outer provinces to defend the central heart of her empire. we may hope that this north sea danger, so embarrassing and disastrous in its strategic needs to a power like england, whose empire is scattered over every ocean and continent, may disappear through the growth of better relations between the german and anglo-saxon branches of the teutonic race. to that stock more than any other is committed the defence of western and christian ideas, and the great issues of the future may compel a pan-teutonic alliance, embracing the british and german empires and the united states. england has two responsibilities in the pacific--the one to herself and her empire, and the other to christendom and western civilization. if she is true to the former, she cannot well be false to the latter. she must bring her fleets back to this great ocean and assert an influence in its politics proportionate to her territorial domains and the extent of her commerce in those regions. but there are objects more important than the interests of any single power. the entire coast of the pacific from behring straits to the horn, and round south by new zealand and australia, must be kept "white"--reserved, that is, for the occidental and christian races. perhaps the united states may one day so far modify the monroe doctrine as to welcome germany to a sovereign foothold among the unstable politics of south america, in order to strengthen still more the outposts of christian civilization in the western hemisphere. it is possible to talk great nonsense about what is called the "yellow peril." no sensible person imagines that the nimble japanese, the inscrutable chinaman, and the subtle hindoo are suddenly going to rise as one man and throw down the gage of challenge to christianity and the west. east, like west, has its own political and religious divisions; nevertheless it is impossible to foresee what the results of the oriental resurgence may mean, and england and the united states, and perhaps germany, may some day have a joint responsibility in the pacific compared with which their rivalries among themselves may seem trifling and irrational. but i do not wish to end this little book with presages of future discord. we must all hope that the panama canal will prove a new and powerful influence for peace, that it will bring even east and west together, not in strife and suspicion, but in friendship and a better mutual understanding. there is surely a human interest and sympathy transcending even those racial divisions which may seem most insuperable. the great nation which has given this splendid gift to the world should ask no better or more selfish reward than that it may contribute to the welfare and progress of humanity at large. appendix i. the isthmian canal convention (commonly called the hay-pauncefote treaty), . . the high contracting parties agree that the present treaty shall supersede the aforementioned (clayton-bulwer) convention of april , . . it is agreed that the canal may be constructed under the auspices of the government of the united states either directly at its own cost, or by gift or loan of money to individuals or corporations, or through subscription to or purchase of stock or shares, and that, subject to the provisions of the present treaty, the said government shall have and enjoy all the rights incident to such construction, as well as the exclusive right of providing for the regulation and management of the canal. . the united states adopts as the basis of the neutralization of such ship canal the following rules substantially as embodied in the convention of constantinople, signed the th october, , for the free navigation of the suez canal; that is to say: first.--the canal shall be free and open to the vessels of commerce and of war of all nations observing these rules, on terms of entire equality, so that there shall be no discrimination against any such nation or its citizens or subjects in respect of the conditions or charges of traffic, or otherwise. such conditions and charges of traffic shall be just and equitable. second.--the canal shall never be blockaded, nor shall any right of war be exercised nor any act of hostility be committed within it. the united states, however, shall be at liberty to maintain such military police along the canal as may be necessary to protect it against lawlessness and disorder. third.--vessels of war of a belligerent shall not revictual nor take any stores in the canal except so far as may be strictly necessary; and the transit of such vessels through the canal shall be effected with the least possible delay in accordance with the regulations in force, and with only such intermission as may result from the necessities of the service. prizes shall be in all respects subject to the same rules as vessels of war of the belligerents. fourth.--no belligerent shall embark or disembark troops, munitions of war or warlike materials in the canal except in case of accidental hindrance of the transit, and in such case the transit shall be resumed with all possible despatch. fifth.--the provisions of this article shall apply to waters adjacent to the canal, within three marine miles of either end. vessels of war of a belligerent shall not remain in such waters longer than twenty-four hours at any one time except in case of distress, and in such case shall depart as soon as possible, but a vessel of war of one belligerent shall not depart within twenty-four hours from the departure of a vessel of war of the other belligerent. sixth.--the plant, establishment, buildings and all works necessary to the construction, maintenance and operation of the canal shall be deemed to be parts thereof for the purpose of this treaty, and in time of war, as in time of peace, shall enjoy complete immunity from attack or injury by belligerents, and from acts calculated to impair their usefulness as part of the canal. . it is agreed that no change of territorial sovereignty or of international relations of the country or countries traversed by the before-mentioned canal shall affect the general principle of neutralization or the obligation of the high contracting parties under the present treaty. . the present treaty shall be ratified by the president of the united states by and with the advice and consent of the senate thereof, and by his britannic majesty; and the ratifications shall be exchanged at washington or at london at the earliest possible time within six months from the date thereof. appendix ii. the panama declaration of independence, . the transcendental act that by a spontaneous movement the inhabitants of the isthmus of panama have just executed is the inevitable consequence of a situation which has become graver daily. long is the recital of the grievances that the inhabitants of the isthmus have suffered from their colombian brothers; but those grievances would have been withstood with resignation for the sake of harmony and national union had its separation been possible and if we could have entertained well-founded hopes of improvement and of effective progress under the system to which we were submitted by that republic. we have to solemnly declare that we have the sincere and profound conviction that all the hopes were futile and useless, all the sacrifices on our part. the isthmus of panama has been governed by the republic of colombia with the narrow-mindedness that in past times was applied to their colonies by the european nations--the isthmian people and territory were a source of fiscal resources and nothing more. the contracts and negotiations regarding the railroad and the panama canal and the national taxes collected in the isthmus have netted to colombia tremendous sums which we will not detail, not wishing to appear in this exposition which will go down to posterity as being moved by a mercenary spirit, which has never been nor is our purpose; and of these large sums the isthmus has not received the benefit of a bridge for any of its numerous rivers, nor the construction of a single road between its towns, nor of any public building nor of a single college, and has neither seen any interest displayed in advancing her industries, nor has a most infinite part of those sums been applied toward her prosperity. a very recent example of what we have related above is what has occurred with the negotiations of the panama canal, which, when taken under consideration by congress, was rejected in a summary manner. there were a few public men who expressed their adverse opinion, on the ground that the isthmus of panama alone was to be favoured by the opening of the canal by virtue of a treaty with the united states, and that the rest of colombia would not receive any direct benefits of any sort by that work, as if that way of reasoning, even though it be correct, would justify the irreparable and perpetual damage that would be caused to the isthmus by the rejection of the treaty in the manner in which it was done, which was equivalent to the closing of the doors to future negotiations. the people of the isthmus, in view of such notorious causes, have decided to recover their sovereignty and begin to form a part of the society of the free and independent nations, in order to work out its own destiny, to insure its future in a stable manner, and discharge the duties which it is called on to do by the situation of its territory and its immense richness. to that we, the initiators of the movement effected, aspire and have obtained a unanimous approval. we aspire to the formation of a true republic, where tolerance will prevail, where the law shall be the invariable guide of those governing and those governed, where effective peace be established, which consists in the frequent and harmonious play of all interests and all activities, and where, finally, civilization and progress will find perpetual stability. at the commencement of the life of an independent nation we fully appreciate the responsibilities that state means, but we have profound faith in the good sense and patriotism of the isthmian people, and we possess sufficient energy to open our way by means of labour to a happy future without any worry or any danger. at separating from our brothers of colombia we do it without hatred and without any joy. just as a son withdraws from his paternal roof, the isthmian people in adopting the lot it has chosen have done it with grief, but in compliance with the supreme and inevitable duty it owes to itself--that of its own preservation and of working for its own welfare. we therefore begin to form a part among the free nations of the world, considering colombia as a sister nation, with which we shall be whenever circumstances may require it, and for whose prosperity we have the most fervent and sincere wishes. josé agustin arango, federico boyd, tomas arias. appendix iii. the panama canal convention (commonly called the hay-bunau-varilla treaty), . the united states of america and the republic of panama being desirous to insure the construction of a ship-canal across the isthmus of panama to connect the atlantic and pacific oceans, and the congress of the united states of america having passed an act approved june , , in furtherance of that object, by which the president of the united states is authorized to acquire within a reasonable time the control of the necessary territory of the republic of colombia, and the sovereignty of such territory being actually vested in the republic of panama, the high contracting parties have resolved for that purpose to conclude a convention and have accordingly appointed as their plenipotentiaries-- the president of the united states of america, john hay, secretary of state, and the government of the republic of panama, philippe bunau-varilla, envoy extraordinary and minister plenipotentiary of the republic of panama, thereunto specially empowered by said government, who after communicating with each other their respective full powers found to be in good and due form, have agreed upon and concluded the following articles: article . the united states guarantees and will maintain the independence of the republic of panama. article . the republic of panama grants to the united states in perpetuity the use, occupation and control of a zone of land and land under water for the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of said canal of the width of ten miles extending to the distance of five miles on each side of the centre line of the route of the canal to be constructed; the said zone beginning in the caribbean sea three marine miles from mean low water mark, and extending to and across the isthmus of panama into the pacific ocean to a distance of three marine miles from mean low water mark, with the proviso that the cities of panama and colon and the harbours adjacent to said cities, which are included within the boundaries of the zone above described, shall not be included within this grant. the republic of panama further grants to the united states in perpetuity the use, occupation and control of any other lands and waters outside of the zone above described which may be necessary and convenient for the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of the said canal or of any auxiliary canal or other works necessary and convenient for the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of the said enterprise. the republic of panama further grants in like manner to the united states in perpetuity all islands within the limits of the zone above described and in addition thereto the group of small islands in the bay of panama, named perico, naos, culebra, and flamenco. article . the republic of panama grants to the united states all the rights, power and authority within the zone mentioned and described in article of this agreement and within the limits of all auxiliary lands and waters mentioned and described in said article which the united states would possess and exercise if it were the sovereign of the territory within which said lands and waters are located to the entire exclusion of the exercise by the republic of panama of any such sovereign rights, power or authority. article . as rights subsidiary to the above grants the republic of panama grants in perpetuity to the united states the right to use the rivers, streams, lakes and other bodies of water within its limits for navigation, the supply of water or water-power or other purposes, so far as the use of said rivers, streams, lakes and bodies of water and the waters thereof may be necessary and convenient for the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of the said canal. article . the republic of panama grants to the united states in perpetuity a monopoly for the construction, maintenance and operation of any system of communication by means of canal or railroad across its territory between the caribbean sea and the pacific ocean. article . the grants herein contained shall in no manner invalidate the titles or rights of private landholders or owners of private property in the said zone or in or to any of the lands or waters granted to the united states by the provisions of any article of this treaty, nor shall they interfere with the rights of way over the public roads passing through the said zone or over any of the said lands or waters unless said rights of way or private rights shall conflict with rights herein granted to the united states, in which case the rights of the united states shall be superior. all damages caused to the owners of private lands or private property of any kind by reason of the grants contained in this treaty or by reason of the operations of the united states, its agents or employees, or by reason of the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of the said canal or of the works of sanitation and protection herein provided for, shall be appraised and settled by a joint commission appointed by the governments of the united states and the republic of panama, whose decisions as to such damages shall be final and whose awards as to such damages shall be paid solely by the united states. no part of the work on said canal or the panama railroad or on any auxiliary works relating thereto and authorized by the terms of this treaty shall be prevented, delayed or impeded by or pending such proceedings to ascertain such damages. the appraisal of the said private lands and private property and the assessment of damages to them shall be based upon their value before the date of this convention. article . the republic of panama grants to the united states within the limits of the cities of panama and colon and their adjacent harbours and within the territory adjacent thereto the right to acquire by purchase or by the exercise of the right of eminent domain, any lands, buildings, water rights or other properties necessary and convenient for the construction, maintenance, operation and protection of the canal and of any works of sanitation, such as the collection and disposition of sewage and the distribution of water in the said cities of panama and colon, which, in the discretion of the united states, may be necessary and convenient for the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of the said canal and railroad. all such works of sanitation, collection and disposition of sewage and distribution of water in the cities of panama and colon shall be made at the expense of the united states, and the government of the united states, its agents or nominees shall be authorized to impose and collect water rates and sewage rates which shall be sufficient to provide for the payment of interest and the amortization of the principal of the cost of said works within a period of fifty years, and upon the expiration of said term of fifty years the system of sewers and water works shall revert to and become the properties of the cities of panama and colon respectively; and the use of the water shall be free to the inhabitants of panama and colon, except to the extent that water rates may be necessary for the operation and maintenance of said system of sewers and water. the republic of panama agrees that the cities of panama and colon shall comply in perpetuity with the sanitary ordinances whether of a preventive or curative character prescribed by the united states, and in case the government of panama is unable or fails in its duty to enforce this compliance by the cities of panama and colon with the sanitary ordinances of the united states the republic of panama grants to the united states the right and authority to enforce the same. the same right and authority are granted to the united states for the maintenance of public order in the cities of panama and colon and the territories and harbours adjacent thereto in case the republic of panama should not be, in the judgment of the united states, able to maintain such order. article . the republic of panama grants to the united states all rights which it now has or hereafter may acquire to the property of the new panama canal company and the panama railroad company as a result of the transfer of sovereignty from the republic of colombia to the republic of panama over the isthmus of panama, and authorizes the new panama canal company to sell and transfer to the united states its rights, privileges, properties and concessions, as well as the panama railroad and all the shares or part of the shares of that company; but the public lands situated outside of the zone described in article of this treaty now included in the concessions to both said enterprises and not required in the construction or operation of the canal shall revert to the republic of panama except any property now owned by or in the possession of said companies within panama or colon or the ports or terminals thereof. article . the united states agrees that the ports at either entrance of the canal and the waters thereof, and the republic of panama agrees that the towns of panama and colon shall be free for all time, so that there shall not be imposed or collected custom-house tolls, tonnage, anchorage, lighthouse, wharf, pilot, or quarantine dues or any other charges or taxes of any kind upon any vessel using or passing through the canal or belonging to or employed by the united states, directly or indirectly, in connection with the construction, maintenance, operation, sanitation and protection of the main canal, or auxiliary works, or upon the cargo, officers, crew, or passengers of any such vessels, except such tolls and charges as may be imposed by the united states for the use of the canal and other works, and except tolls and charges imposed by the republic of panama upon merchandise destined to be introduced for the consumption of the rest of the republic of panama, and upon vessels touching at the ports of colon and panama and which do not cross the canal. the government of the republic of panama shall have the right to establish in such ports and in the towns of panama and colon such houses and guards as it may deem necessary to collect duties on importations destined to other portions of panama and to prevent contraband trade. the united states shall have the right to make use of the towns and harbours of panama and colon as places of anchorage, and for making repairs, for loading, unloading, depositing, or transshipping cargoes either in transit or destined for the service of the canal and for other works pertaining to the canal. * * * * * article . if it should become necessary at any time to employ armed forces for the safety or protection of the canal, or of the ships that make use of the same, or the railways and auxiliary works, the united states shall have the right, at all times and in its discretion, to use its police and its land and naval forces or to establish fortifications for these purposes. * * * * * appendix iv. panama canal toll rates. by the president of the united states of america, washington, november , . a proclamation. i, william howard taft, president of the united states of america, by virtue of the power and authority vested in me by the act of congress, approved august twenty-fourth, nineteen hundred and twelve, to provide for the opening, maintenance, protection and operation of the panama canal and the sanitation and government of the canal zone, do hereby prescribe and proclaim the following rates of toll be paid, by vessels using the panama canal. . on merchant vessels carrying passengers or cargo one dollar and twenty cents ($ . ) per net vessel ton--each one hundred ( ) cubic feet--of actual earning capacity. . on vessels in ballast without passengers or cargo forty ( ) per cent. less than the rate of tolls for vessels with passengers or cargo. . upon naval vessels, other than transports, colliers, hospital ships, and supply ships, fifty ( ) cents per displacement ton. . upon army and navy transports, colliers, hospital ships and supply ships one dollar and twenty cents ($ . ) per net ton, the vessels to be measured by the same rules as are employed in determining the net tonnage of merchant vessels. the secretary of war will prepare and prescribe such rules for the measurement of vessels and such regulations as may be necessary and proper to carry this proclamation into full force and effect. the end. love to emmy's memory. miss billy [illustration: "that wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice above them. (_see page ._)] miss billy a neighborhood story [illustration] _by_ edith keeley stokely _and_ marian kent hurd _illustrated by charles copeland_ boston [symbol] lothrop publishing company published, april, copyright, , by lothrop, lee & shepard company _all rights reserved_ miss billy norwood press berwick & smith co. norwood, mass. u.s.a. contents chapter page i. no. cherry street ii. miss billy iii. ways and means iv. new neighbours v. a load of dirt vi. next door vii. trials viii. the story of horatius ix. beatrice x. a broken sidewalk xi. weeds xii. little red riding hood xiii. hard lines xiv. two letters xv. "frances" xvi. the child garden xvii. the lawn social xviii. margaret lends assistance xix. personal pleasure xx. fair skies xxi. hallowe'en xxii. waiting xxiii. conclusion illustrations "that wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice above them _frontispiece_ page "i have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and riding ponies, myself" "who are you?" he said marie jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless" she was telling him the history of the day "all oi do be nadin'," ... "is a check-rein from the top av me head to me shoulder blades" miss billy chapter i no. cherry street "the house looked wretched and woe-begone: its desolate windows wept with a dew that forever dripped and crept from the moss-grown eaves: and ever anon some idle wind, with a passing slap, made rickety shutter or shingle flap." march had gone out like a roaring lion, and april had slipped demurely in, armed with a pot of green paint and a scrubbing brush. there was not much to paint in cherry street. a few sparse blades of grass, tenacious of life, clung here and there to curbstone and dooryard; but there was plenty to scrub, and the spring maid fell to with a will. in consequence, on this saturday morning, the water rushed down the gutters in torrents, while at the same time the small denizens of cherry street were lifted into the seventh heaven of delight by the sun's showing his jolly face through the clouds and inviting them out to wade. to make their happiness, if possible, more complete, a pine-wood wagon, creaking and groaning under its heavy weight, had turned the corner by coffey's saloon and was coming up the street. the small cherryites paused in blissful anticipation to watch its progress, while miniature niagara cataracts hissed and foamed about their bare legs. history repeats itself, and they argued with reason that when the driver should reach the end of the block and find it a blind: a street with no outlet, he would be covered with confusion and beat his horses and swear horribly in trying to turn around. so, as the creaking wagon drew nearer, the youthful cherryites fled ecstatically through the cold waters for the parquet seats on the curbstone nearest the stage, and waited breathlessly for the rising of the curtain. but it was decreed that the pine wood dramatic company was to play to empty seats after all, for round the corner by coffey's loomed a star of greater magnitude. it was mr. schultzsky, landlord and taxpayer of all cherry street, with his humped shoulders and rusty silk hat, his raw-boned grey nag and a vehicle popularly known as a "rattle-trap." not that mr. schultzsky was an unusual sight in cherry street. indeed, he dwelt therein, together with a strange little niece for housekeeper, who had come from some far-off heathen land; but rent day, always an interesting event, on this occasion held an added charm from the fact that tommy casey had made it known to all whom it might concern that his mother intended on this day to utter such truths to mr. schultzsky as would make him tremble on his throne. therefore, almost before the iron-grey nag had come to a full stop, the bare-legged cherryites, precipitately deserting the pine wood drama, were gathered in a circle before mrs. casey's door awaiting with fearsome ecstasy the promised crack of doom. the casey house, in the early history of the city, had been a proud brick mansion of eight rooms, with green blinds, and flower beds outlined in serrated points of red brick. but the street had risen above the level of the yard, leaving the old house like a tombstone on a sunken grave. the old-fashioned porches were dust-coloured and worm-eaten, the fences fallen away, and the broken window panes and missing slats of the blinds gave it a peculiarly sightless and toothless appearance. like a faithful friend, the old house shared the fallen fortunes of its early owner, for mr. schultzsky had bought it, as he had come into possession of nearly all his real estate, at a tax title sale. now, as he tied his horse and tommy casey heralded his approach, mrs. casey with the baby tucked in the curve of one arm turned the bread in the oven, slammed the oven door, whisked the dust off a chair, and waited. presently the fickle april sunshine that poured in a broad band through the kitchen door was shadowed, and the landlord stood at the threshold. he did not wish mrs. casey a polite good-morning: this was not mr. schultzsky's way. instead, he gave a characteristic little grunt, and opening an overfed pocket book, produced from among others of its kind a monthly rent bill, and extended it without further ceremony. mrs. casey laid the baby in its cradle, brought her knuckles to her hips, and invoking the spirit of a long line of oppression-hating ancestors to her aid, opened the battle. "mr. schultzsky," she began, her soft irish half-brogue giving no sign of the trembling within, "whin we moved here a year ago, there was promises ye made us that ye've not kep'. the roof is l'akin' worse than it did then,--the overfillin' of a tub in a bad rain,--an' me wit' my man a coachman out late o' nights, havin' to get up out o' me bed wit' the lightnin' flashin' an' lave me wailin' baby to pull a tub up the ladder undher the roof! the windays are out, six of thim,--not that we done it, mind you,--the floors are broke,--an' of the whole eight rooms, foive of thim are not fit for a dacint fam'ly to live in, wit' the paint all gone an' the paper smoky an' palin' off. the front gate was gone before we ever came here, an' now the fince posts has rotted off an' the fince is down. here is spring clanin' on me, an' what can i do wit' a place like this? fifteen dollars a month, mr. schultzsky, we're payin' ye, an' the money waitin' for ye as reg'lar as the month comes around. but now what i have say to ye is this: we'll move the week out onless ye paper an' paint the five rooms,"--mrs. casey counted the items off on her fingers,--"put in a new kitchen floor, fix the six windays, patch the roof, set up the fince, an' put a bit o' paint on the porches. it's not that our place is any worse than the others in cherry street, but the caseys bein' good pay, an' knowin' it, is goin' to have things a bit different, that's all." mr. schultzsky considered. he took off his silk hat, carefully wiped his forehead with a red cotton handkerchief, and replaced the antiquated head-covering. he shuffled his rusty boots and thrust his hands down into the pockets of his shining coat to gain time. his small black eyes glittered craftily as he mentally added, subtracted, and struck off the fraction of a per cent. then he made his decision, but he said not a word. he took from the recesses of his capacious coat-tails a red card, some tacks and a small hammer. without another look at mrs. casey, and with as little regard for the group of awe-stricken children, he passed around the house to the front door and tacked up the sign. number cherry street was for rent. chapter ii miss billy "a girl who has so many wilful ways she would have caused job's patience to forsake him, yet is so rich in all that's girlhood's praise, did job himself upon her goodness gaze, a little better she would surely make him." miss billy was an early riser. she opened her eyes to the sunshine and pure morning air as naturally as a flower. so it came about that at six o'clock of a may morning she was skipping downstairs before any other member of the family had stirred, with a quick springing step that was peculiarly her own. miss billy's sprightly locomotion was a constant source of amusement to her family, and of mortification to miss billy herself. "it is my misfortune, not my fault," she was wont to say when her brother theodore described her gait as "galumphing," and her sister beatrice pleaded with her to study physical culture; "and it's like struggling against fate to attempt to walk with discretion. i suppose it is merely an 'evening-up' of things, and that providence gave it to me to offset my lovely disposition." but upon this spring morning miss billy's unfortunate step did not seem to be weighing upon her mind. the glow and thrill of the golden day opening before her sent the warm blood coursing quickly through her veins, and the world seemed made for youth and beauty and happiness. miss billy sang softly to herself as she opened the side door and stepped out into the garden. "the garden" was a small shady spot on the north side of the tall city house. it was not a promising place for flowers, but miss billy's love for growing things was great, and by dint of much urging and encouragement on her part, a few spring flowers eked out a precarious existence in the barren soil. above the flower plot was an open bedroom window. miss billy's eyes twinkled wickedly, and her soft song changed into the whistled notes of a schoolboy's call. there was a sound as of two bare feet coming down with a thud in the room above her, and in a moment a tall form in gay scarlet pajamas, with a towsled head atop, appeared at the window. "that you, tom?" whispered a sleepy voice. miss billy looked up from the flowers. the violets themselves were not more demure than her own face. "oh, hello, ted!" she said; "tom's not here." "well, who is?" "no one but me." "but i heard some one whistle." "that was me too," said miss billy frankly and ungrammatically. "well, i must say that your joke--i suppose you intended it for a joke--is extremely crude," replied her brother crossly. "you said last night that i couldn't get you out of bed," jeered miss billy. "beside, i wanted you to see the sun rise. i have seen two myself, this morning." "well you may now have the pleasure of seeing one go back to bed," said theodore. he left the window abruptly, and miss billy heard him thump his pillow impatiently as she turned again to the garden. "ted never has much sense of humour at six o'clock in the morning," she said, passing her loving hands under the tender green leaves. "six blossoms! these are the most modest violets i ever saw in my life. they're afraid to show their heads above the ground. at this rate it won't take me long to prepare my floral creation for the breakfast table." there was still no sign of life about the house when she came back with the flowers, and miss billy wondered, as she put the purple blossoms in a clear green glass bowl, what she should do next. "i might practise half an hour," she said to herself, looking in at the piano as she stood in the hall door,-- "'practicing's good for a good little girl, it makes her nose straight and it makes her hair curl,' "--but my hair is too curly now, and if my nose was straight, people would expect more of me. beside, i hate to waste this lovely morning on scaly exercises. i believe i'll write a letter to margaret. i feel in the right mood to talk to her." the same peculiar quick-step carried miss billy to her desk, where, dipping a battered-looking pen into the ink, she began:-- " ashurst place. "_dearly beloved_: "i suppose you're just going to bed over in cologne, with your hair done up in those funny little curl papers of yours. or don't they wear curl papers in 'furrin' countries? what kind of a place is cologne, anyway? do they make lundborg's extract there, and _are_ the exports 'grain, grapes and beet sugar,' as the geography used to say? "over here in america i am waiting for maggie to arise and prepare our frugal repast, which, from sundry soaked articles i saw last night, i suspect will mainly consist of fish-balls. maggie feels that she has not lived in vain when she succeeds in getting theodore to refuse codfish-balls. it is the only article of food that he does not fall upon with fork and glee. "speaking of balls, i went to one last night, only to look on, however. beatrice's dancing class gave one of their monthly parties, and i was one of the smaller fry (notice the connection between fry and codfish-balls) whom they deigned to invite. those pale-drab blanchard girls were conducting the services--(it's well that father doesn't inspect my correspondence)--so it's a wonder that i 'got in' at all, for they detest me. i might add that the tender sentiment is entirely reciprocated on my part! i wore my old grey crêpe, and looked superbly magnificent, as of course you know, peggy dear. tom furnis, who was there, also occupying a modest and retiring seat in the rear, mentioned to me during the evening that as soon as you came home we would have a dancing class of our own. so you see how everything hangs on your return. "nothing has happened at 'miss peabody's select school for young ladies' since you left except that i have received numerous invitations to select little functions in the office, and a choice assortment of demerit marks, and carried home the following report last month: 'miss lee's immediate improvement in deportment is earnestly desired by 'her instructor and sincere friend, 'loutilda amesbury peabody.' "i did rather dread to take it home, for my report last month was not exactly suggestive of propriety and discretion, and i hate to have my people disappointed in me. but when i showed it to father he said, 'some improvement this month, i see, little daughter.' wasn't that just like him? "myrtle blanchard has organised a new school club. it is composed of the select six, who devote themselves to french conversation and marshmallows once a week, and call themselves the salon. not to be outdone, madge freer and i have started a rival organisation for ping-pong and fun. we call ourselves the saloon. we'll have to change the name, though, as soon as miss loutilda discovers its existence. can't you imagine her horror! "your description of your paris gowns did not make me at all envious, my dear. for miss edwards has been making me three new dresses and revising several old editions. i have a new brown suit, a scarlet foulard, and a fearful and wonderful creation of purple lawn embroidered with pale yellow celery leaves, which i shall wear to every church supper this year. and i shall come to the station to meet you next september arrayed like solomon in all his glory, in all three of the gowns, in order that you may be properly impressed, and not outshine me in splendour. "i am afraid you won't find, in this frivolous and dressy letter, the things you most want to know. as usual, my pen has run to nonsense. but if you were looking for food for reflection and nourishment of the soul, you would have come to father for it, instead of me. sometimes, peggy dear, i am ashamed of my aimless, careless existence of eating, sleeping and skylarking, as theodore would say. there are moments of temporary aberration in my life when i wish i could help some one else. if i were like you, now, who carry sweetness and serenity with you, i wouldn't mourn, but alas, i am only "your unregenerate but loyal friend, "miss billy. "p.s. "my suspicions about the codfish were well founded. a strong and influential odour of breakfast has pushed the door open for me, and i know it is time for me to descend into the lower regions. good-by, dear." miss billy laid down her pen with a sigh of relief, and wiped her ink-stained fingers. she had just lighted her little candle and produced a stick of wax to seal the letter, when a deafening noise filled the hall below. at the foot of the stairs stood her brother theodore, armed with a chinese gong, upon which he was performing with great vigour. his boyish tenor rang out clearly: "arise, arise, ye maiden fair, golden eyes and azure hair, hear your loved one's plaintive calls, come to me and codfish-balls. "breakfast waits, miss billy. did you go back to bed again?" the family had assembled at breakfast when the younger daughter entered the dining room, smiling over theodore's improvised poetry. "mother looks more sober than usual," she thought, as she drew the sweet face to her own. "morning, motherie." "good-morning, little daughter. you left your footprints behind you. the violets are lovely." there was an unsealed letter at miss billy's plate, and similar envelopes for beatrice and theodore. miss billy opened hers first. it ran: "you are requested to be present at a family meeting to be held in the study this morning at eight o'clock. important matters to be discussed. by order of "father." the letters excited no comment. they were an every-day occurrence in the lee family. if theodore's unruly tongue caused mischief, or his love of a joke was carried too far, a delicate reminder at his plate was sure to call attention to the fact. if beatrice stopped for a moment to exchange compliments with her old enemy, personal vanity, or did she pursue an uneven tenor of fault-finding for a time, a letter was the means of bringing her to order. but upon miss billy,--energetic, wideawake miss billy,--who was always doing things, and doing them hard, the missives descended like flocks of white doves. these letters did not all contain censure. some of them were so full of praise as to make their owner blush with an embarrassment of happiness, but one could never be sure beforehand of the contents. theodore was already in the study when miss billy entered. he was stretched out on the floor with two sofa pillows under his head and four under his feet. "something's up," he remarked sagely. "yes," assented miss billy, "and that something had better come down. take the pillows from under your feet, ted." "well, i hope the bank hasn't gone busted, or father's colt been killed, or anything happened to our government bonds, or maggie given warning, or beatrice plighted her troth to a peanut man. billy, what a savage you are! what are pillows for, i'd like to know. i should think you'd be afraid to treat me as you do. some day the worm will turn, and when a belted earl comes to seek your hand i'll expose your tyranny." "theodore," said miss billy, standing very tall and straight, and with a serious expression on her usually merry face,--"stop joking and listen. something _is_ up, really. i've been waiting for it to come out for a month. of course i don't know exactly what it is, but i have my suspicions, and every time i have looked at mother's sober face i have felt guilty to be happy. now ted, if what i think turns out to be true, i have some plans to propose, and you must stand by me in them." "what do you mean?" asked theodore, with a boy's disgust for mystery. "you're talking in parables, miss billy." "i mean that i'm sure father's lost some money," answered his sister hurriedly. "i haven't time to explain now; the whole family will be here in a minute. but when the rest come in, i want you to say exactly what i say, and uphold me in every way." "well, i like that," gasped theodore, raising himself on one elbow. "say exactly what you say! what do you intend to say, and why should i play follow-my-leader? no ma'am, i sign no paper before reading it." "but you must," insisted miss billy hurriedly. "you'll understand why later. you've got to pull with me. i know how beatrice will act, and i'll need an ally the minute her tears begin to flow. i depend upon you to stand by me, as you always do. come ted, promise. quick, they're coming." "your blandishments have the usual telling effect," groaned theodore. "i promise,--i suppose i've got to. but you're responsible for all the evil that may come from my yielding to temptation." he collapsed among the pillows, and had just succeeded in covering his tall form with a slumber robe when the rest of the family entered. chapter iii ways and means "and a chorus arose from the judicial bench, our learned decision is this,--to retrench." the minister's study was furnished with an eye to comfort rather than beauty. and yet there was something better than mere artistic loveliness in the long room, lined with book shelves, and with every evidence of use in the well worn couch, the comfortable easy chairs, and the desk piled with papers. mrs. lee's mending basket stood on the table, beatrice's burnt-wood outfit was on the low shelf, theodore's ping-pong table occupied one corner, and the windows were full of miss billy's plants. the room was the heart of the house. here the poor and the sick of the minister's people came for help in their trouble. here the children came for advice and encouragement in their childish griefs and hopes. here the forlorn were cheered, and the sinful comforted; and here reigned the abiding spirit of the home. between the two south windows, in the post of honour in the room, hung the sermon board. it was a small slate blackboard, which had been glorified quite beyond its usual educational purposes. bittersweet branches garlanded its sides, and hung their scarlet berries over its edges, and miss billy's best ivy stood on a bracket beneath. the board was an institution in the household. here one was sure to find a bit of helpful verse, a timely quotation or an inspiring text, for all of the minister's sermons were not delivered from the pulpit. to-day it bore a longer message than usual,--miss billy's face grew soft as she read: "to be honest, to be kind; to earn a little, and to spend less; to make upon the whole a family happier by his presence; to renounce where that shall be necessary and not to be embittered; to keep a few friends, but these without capitulation, above all, on the same grim conditions, to keep friends with himself--here is a task for all that a man has of fortitude and delicacy." "father is that man if one lives," she thought tenderly. "and mother is brave, too, but they will need help,--both of them." "the meeting will come to order," said mr. lee, the lines of his face smoothing themselves out, as they always did when he looked at his assembled family. "whom can he mean?" asked theodore innocently, stretching out his long legs in front of beatrice. "he means you," said beatrice sharply. "do get up, theodore. you are so awkward-looking, there on the floor." "why is beatrice like this meeting?" murmured theodore, disentangling his legs from the afghan. "because she has come to order. sweet sister, in you a magnificent slave driver was ruined! thus i fly to obey thy mandate." miss billy gazed at him with meaning eyebrows as he established another cozy nest with robe and pillows on the broad couch. "i do hope he won't act up," she thought anxiously, settling herself in a position of attention. "our business is a little unpleasant this morning," began mr. lee with a poor little imitation of a smile that did not deceive at least one member of the party. "mother and i had decided to keep it from you as long as possible, but later developments have made it necessary to--to----" "it is right that we should know the unpleasant things as well as the pleasant," put in miss billy stoutly. "we are not children. beatrice is eighteen, and theodore and i shall be sixteen next june." "there are disasters much worse than losing money," went on mr. lee. "still i find myself perplexed and worried over financial troubles, and i feel that i need the sound judgment of every member of the family. through the dishonesty of managing officers we have lost $ , which was invested in the eastern building and loan association. the loss cuts off from this source an annual income of $ , which of course we would not feel very keenly so long as my present salary continued. but yesterday i received a letter from the church trustees, worded as delicately and graciously as possible, but regretting that heavy indebtedness obliges them to reduce the pastor's salary $ a year, for at least two years. this leaves us $ a year poorer than we have been before." "let me go to work," begged theodore. "i'd like to." "we thought of that," said mrs. lee with an approving glance at her son; "but it is not the most practical way when we consider the future. you must finish school first, theodore." beatrice had been applying her handkerchief to her eyes in a ladylike manner. "can't you do something to those horrid men?" she inquired pathetically. "sue them, or have them arrested, or something?" "perhaps the law may reach them," said mr. lee, "but i have my doubts about the results. i fear there is little to recover. i think our wisest policy is to forget what is gone, and to conform to the situation as quickly as possible. miss billy, we haven't heard from you." "hurry up, miss billy. you may never be _invited_ to talk again in the whole course of your existence," said her irrepressible brother. miss billy roused from a brown study. "we are living in a large house--sixty dollars a month," she suggested. "we couldn't live in a smaller one," put in beatrice tearfully. "oh, yes we could," returned miss billy, with a glance at theodore. "of course we could," echoed theodore firmly. "there can be a reduction made in the matter of servants," said mrs. lee. "we are paying maggie fifteen dollars and charlotte twelve. i have talked with maggie already. she will stay with us for twelve, and we can let charlotte go." beatrice looked more woe-begone than before, but miss billy's face showed no disappointment. "i think that is the very best thing to do under the circumstances," she said decidedly. "the servant girl problem is solved." "on the contrary, it has just begun," said beatrice with a rueful glance at her pretty hands. "miss peabody will have to lose the brightest star in her galaxy. she draws too heavily upon our modest income. i shall join ted at the high school," went on miss billy bravely. "are you sure that is wise?" asked mrs. lee. "private school has been one of my pet extravagances. i should like to keep you with your old schoolmates as long as possible, for it will make a great change in your life to leave them." "but think of the saving in expense," urged miss billy. beatrice gave a little shudder. "i hate to think of your going to that dirty, noisy place--filled with germans and germs----" "and polish and poles, and russians and rushes----" put in theodore. "the course is certainly good, and the instructors excellent," said the minister. "if miss billy could be reconciled to the public schools for a year, i think we could manage college for her later." there was a wistfulness in his tones that touched miss billy's tender heart. "of course i could," she said stoutly. "i'd rather go, daddy dear." "as to the matter of houses," went on mr. lee, "i am afraid that we shall have to leave our present home. your mother and i spent yesterday in looking at vacant houses. just now there seem to be few unoccupied, but we finally found one that we thought might do." "where is it?" inquired beatrice. "in the lower part of the town," answered mr. lee. "it is not in an aristocratic neighbourhood, but it seems as though it might be quite comfortable, after a few repairs are made, and the rent is ridiculously low. the house in number cherry street." "cherry street!" cried beatrice, involuntarily clapping her palms over her eyes. "oh, papa, how _can_ you. we _can't_ live in cherry street." "oh, yes we can," said miss billy promptly. "yes we can," chimed in theodore. "what kind of a house is it?" asked miss billy, in a practical and business-like tone. mr. lee looked puzzled. "well, i know it's small," he said, "and i have an indistinct remembrance of brown paint. ask your mother; i fear i haven't much memory for details. perhaps if i had i should have watched my investment a little closer," he added sadly. "the house is small, and is brown too--in spots," said mrs. lee. "it has four rooms downstairs and four bedrooms above. there is no water or gas in the house, which is of course a great inconvenience; and the place is in shabby condition; but the landlord has promised to make the necessary repairs and to paint the house for us." "he probably realises what it will mean to cherry street in a social way, to have us for tenants," said beatrice. "you bet he does," said theodore. "in his mind's eye he can probably see cherry street ablaze with light and aglow with colour. he can see number twelve filled with diamond tiaras and cut glass pianos and freezers full of ice cream, to signify that a function is on. he can see the caseys and the raffertys and the rosenbaums riding by in their coupés and splendour to attend the house warming given by the minister. thus will 'sassiety' be brought into cherry street by the new tenants." "is there a yard?" asked miss billy diplomatically, for beatrice was flushing angrily under her brother's ridicule. "yes, there is a large yard," said mrs. lee. "the sod is almost worn off, but a little grass seed and care will work wonders there." "good!" exclaimed miss billy. "then perhaps, sometime in the dim and misty future i may have a garden of my own. i would be willing to move for that alone." "and i can raise vegetables and keep chickens," said theodore. "and rise at daybreak to plough and harrow, and to feed and water your stock," slyly added miss billy. "yes, my dear," retorted theodore with true brotherly inflection, "and without the aid of an alarm clock either. when i hear a combination of an avalanche and an ice wagon going downstairs i shall say to myself: 'time to get up. there goes miss billy.'" "how about the furniture?" inquired miss billy, ignoring her brother's thrust. "it seems to me that what now abundantly fills fourteen rooms will overflow in eight. i have a hazy recollection of a philosophical principle about two objects not being able to occupy the same place at the same time. how shall we manage to get our great-grandmother's colossal bed into an eight by ten bedroom? can you put allopathic furniture into a homoeopathic house, mother mine?" "that is another thing to be considered," said mrs. lee. "of course we shall not be able to take all of our furniture. i think we must plan to move only what is most necessary----" "the bath tub and the bible," interrupted theodore. "yes," said his mother, smiling in spite of herself at the boy's merry way of treating a serious subject. "and the books for your father, and the piano for beatrice----" "and the couch for theodore," suggested miss billy. "and the watering pot for miss billy," retorted theodore. "and the sewing machine for me," went on mrs. lee, "and the range for maggie, and the pictures and other comforts for us all. we must make number cherry street into a home as soon as possible. we shall store the rest, not sell it, for i feel sure that we shall need it all some day." miss billy slid down on to the floor between her mother and father, and patted a hand of each. "don't look so solemncholy," she said fondly; "moving isn't the worst thing in the world. we have been so comfortable all our lives that we don't know what it is to deprive ourselves of anything. and perhaps it will be a good lesson for us all--at least for beatrice and ted and me. beside, i must confess that i already begin to feel a yearning to take possession of my new home. i believe that i shall like number cherry street." mrs. lee smiled dubiously. "it is not a very pleasant house," she said. "and we shall not live as comfortably as we have been living since you can remember. you must not raise your hopes so high that a fall will hurt them. there are many things about the new life that will be hard and uncomfortable and distasteful, and we shall long for our pretty home and our old neighbours many, many times. but we are all together, and we have health and hope, which surely ought to bring happiness. and home is always home, no matter where the house is." "but what will become of our friends?" said beatrice, in a suspiciously teary tone. "none of them will come to visit us on cherry street." "let them stay away then," advised miss billy. "by all means let them stay away," echoed theodore airily. "but they won't stay away," said mrs. lee, putting her arm tenderly about her elder daughter. "the ones we love best will find us, dear, even at number cherry street." miss billy turned to the sermon board. "... to renounce where that shall be necessary and not to be embittered...." her eyes went from her mother's sweet smile to her father's serene face. "they don't _need_ any help," she decided. chapter iv new neighbours "now she's cast off her bonny shoon made o' gilded leather, and she's put on her hieland brogues to skip amang the heather: and she's cast off her bonny goon made o' the silk and satin, and she's put on a tartan plaid to row amang the bracken." marie jean hennesy was making her morning toilet. the sun was five hours high, but for this marie jean cared nothing at all. she finished tying a row of white rags in her hair that gave her a peculiarly spiked and bristling appearance, and then buttoned her velveteen waist here and there, leaving a button over at the top and bringing a mateless buttonhole out at the bottom. marie jean's room was in a state of disorder that suggested its owner had participated in late festivities the night before. a pair of soiled white slippers were flung under the bed, together with a pair of down-trodden shoes which marie jean, on her knees, was even now seeking. a white gown that had lost much of its pristine purity was thrown over a chair, while belts, ribbons, soap, corset-strings, fans, handkerchiefs, powder-puffs and stockings occupied conspicuous positions on the furniture or on the floor. every drawer had its mouth shut tight on a large mouthful of its possessions,--and the dresser top was so filled with combs, brushes, perfumery, thread, safety pins, matches, hair-pins and bottles, that the only wonder was it could hold it all. but the rapt expression of marie jean hennesy's face betokened that her thoughts were far away from the mean subject of household disorder. she was studying the programme of the ball of the night before, at which she had danced every number. to be sure, her slippers had hurt her, and she had endured an uncomfortable pinch in the waist, but murmurs of admiration on every side had told her she "looked lovely." she hummed a bit of a waltz tune and glanced coquettishly in the mirror as the remembrance of her conquests flowed warmly back to her: then discovering that by the morning light she was looking sallow, she rescued the jar of maiden's blush from under the bureau and deftly applied it to her cheeks. that marie jean's breakfast waited, no one with a nose could deny. the smoky fat of much fried bacon festooned the air in graceful clouds, alluring the tardy maid kitchenward. it swung riotously in the folds of the parlour curtains and luxuriated on the best plush parlour chairs, while the essence of boiled coffee stalked boldly upstairs, calling loudly, "come down, marie jean,--we've waited for hours." in the kitchen there were evidences that mrs. hennesy had been scrubbing. a pail of scrubbing water stood on the floor, and the brush and soap lay beside. a sharp boundary line, also, divided the clean from the unclean. but the floor was quite dry, and mrs. hennesy's apron was nearly dry, and she was so absorbed in looking out of the window at the people that were moving in next door that she did not hear marie jean enter the kitchen. when she became aware of her presence she gave an apologetic little cough, and bustled about the stove serving the delayed breakfast. "if i'd knowed ye was up, mary jane," she said deprecatingly, "i'd've fixed somethin' else fer yer breakfast. i've been kapin' this since sivin o'clock an' it's near noon now. what kind of a time was there at the dance last night? i tried to kape awake till ye come in, but i was that tired wit' the ironin' i dropped off in spite of mesilf. did ye enjoy yerself?" "oh, fairly well," drawled marie jean, toying languidly with her cup and spoon: there was a wrinkle between the eyes, and a haughty uplifting of the chin that warned mrs. hennesy that as ever after a ball, marie jean was cross, and she hastened to change the subject to impersonal topics. "the new folks is movin' in next door," she volunteered: "they must have been doin' a lot of repairs. the painters an' paper hangers has just got their ladders an' things moved out, an' the carpets is bein' nailed down now: they've kep' the racket up since sivin o'clock this mornin'. sure now, i do be missin' mrs. casey more an' more ivery day,--a-comin' in an' out wit' a pail, or the coal hod, or the potatay peelin's, an' always stoppin' to spake neighbourly like, over the fince. it's hard to see new folks movin' in." "what manner of people are they?" inquired marie jean, leaning languidly back in her chair. "oh, they seem good enough folks," returned mrs. hennesy, "but they'll niver be what mrs. casey was,--that frindly an' obligin' she was that she'd lind the head off her shoulders. the man looks like wan of thim protestant praists,--an' the woman's young lookin', all but her white hair. there's two girls about yer age, mary jane, an' a boy, besides a hired girl. they've got good furniture,--nothin' so good as our plush parlour set, though,--an' i don't much care for the colour of their carpets. still, i guess they'll be good neighbours enough." marie jean pushed back her breakfast and stepped over to the window. the scene that met her eyes was an animated one. workmen were lifting furniture and household goods out of a heavy moving van and hurrying them into the house. a tall gentlemen in a silk hat was beating a rug in the back yard. a stout-armed maid was suspended out of an upper story window with pail, brushes and fluttering rags, engaged in cleaning the glass. a tall broad-shouldered youth in a baggy pair of overalls was digging out the rotten fenceposts: and last of all, a girl in a gingham dress, a girl with flushed face and wavy hair tucked up under an old hat, was energetically raking the yard and gathering the dirt into little piles. "mercy!" exclaimed marie jean hennesy. then she added haughtily, "i shall not call upon them." chapter v a load of dirt "nor knowest thou what argument thy life to thy neighbour's creed hath lent." it was saturday morning and a great hammering was going on in the hennesy yard. whenever the hammering ceased for a moment, a boyish whistle took its place. it was a cheerful whistle and an infectious one. the minister in his study was working up his sermon for sunday morning. it was called "the simple life," but it was growing all too complex and knotty, and the minister leaned back in his chair with relaxed muscles and contemplated his work with a troubled air. the whistle burst into song and floated in through the window with the sunshine: "ev'ry sunday, down to her home we go,-- all the girls and all the boys they love her so: always jolly,--heart that is true, i know,-- she's the sunshine of paradise al-ley." the minister sat straight again and dipped his pen in the ink. life was so simple after all. "love ye one another and keep my commandments." the sermon smoothed itself out and flowed evenly along to the tune of "paradise alley." miss billy was on the side of the house stirring the virgin soil with an axe preparatory to putting in her pansies. theodore came jauntily out of the door, his hat and shoes well brushed and shaking out a clean handkerchief. "well!" exclaimed miss billy reproachfully, "i thought you were going to help me to-day." "would that i could!" said theodore, waving the handkerchief gracefully at her. "but mistress billy, gaze upon my shoes." "i see they are your patent leathers. i should think you would wear your others saturday." "that's the beginning of the story," said theodore, lowering his voice confidentially. "these are my all,--and hush, billy,--these are busted. i've got exactly nineteen cents in the world, but i've recorded a vow to buy my own clothes and schoolbooks, hereafter. i'll not ask father for another cent of money. therefore i go hence to seek a job." "well, go on then, and good luck to you," said miss billy, taking up the axe again. "but this soil--" and she made a savage chop at the ground with each word, "--is--just--all--stones--and--clay." as theodore departed, the hammering in the hennesy yard waned and the melody lifted again. "when maguire's little lad had the fever so bad that no one would dare to go near him, this maiden so brave said, 'perhaps i can save, at least i can comfort and cheer him.'" miss billy's face brightened, and throwing down the axe she went to the fence and stood looking over at the panorama which unfolded itself. the hennesy house, in years past, had evidently done duty as a store. it was a dilapidated old brick building, set crookedly on its lot, with two disproportionately large front windows in the lower half, and a big deep-set front door. above the second story the house terminated abruptly in a flat tin roof without ornamentation of any kind. in the rear of the lot there were a barn, a wagon shed, and a chicken house, all shedding various coats and colours of whitewash, and all in the last stages of disrepair. scattered promiscuously about the yard were broken wagon wheels, wood-racks, chickens, pine wood, and old tin cans,--while a lame horse, a boy, a leaning pump, a dilapidated clothes-reel and two wobbly puppies further graced the scene. grass, flower or shrub there was none,--but there was mud,--plenty of it; mud wet and mud dried. and the deep ruts in the ground, together with the broken wheels lying around, and the strong barny smell pervading the place, gave testimony that mr. hennesy followed "teaming" for a living. the hammering was beginning again when miss billy spoke: "what are you making?" she asked pleasantly. john thomas hennesy looked up. as to turned up nose and freckles, he much resembled marie jean, but his mouth was firmer. he gave miss billy a long penetrating stare, and the colour did not begin to creep into his cheeks until after he had dropped his head. "i'm fixin' a new kennel fer my dog," he said shamefacedly. "goodness!" thought miss billy, "he's older than i thought. he must be at least fifteen." then she went on aloud, "i wonder if it is a white bulldog with a black spot on its back?" "yes,--that's her," answered the boy, looking up with quick interest. "then she's been calling on me a week steadily, for bones," declared miss billy gaily. "i'm so glad to know her." john thomas took up his hammer again and began to search irresolutely through his nail box at his side, but miss billy stood her ground with her arms behind her and her chin resting on the top of the fence. "he's wishing i would go," she thought, "but i am not going. i shall stand right here until i get courage enough to ask him to come over and help me with the pansy bed. but it's awkward,--awfully awkward. i can't think of a thing to say." "i liked your dog the moment i saw her," she went on: "i owned one like her three years ago." john thomas, having found his nail, hesitated no longer, but began to drive it into the frame with ringing strokes. miss billy waited until the hammering subsided. "a friend of father's gave her to me when she was a little bow-legged puppy. she was a beautiful dog, white, with nice burnt sienna spots, and a lovely disposition. i named her serena on account of that disposition. but she had the funniest looking tail, with three queer kind of corkscrews in it." (miss billy illustrated with a whirl of her forefinger that was entirely lost upon john thomas.) "but i didn't care,--i loved serena, if her tail did go in a corkscrew. but one summer my cousin, who was studying medicine, came to visit us, and serena's tail seemed to bother him an awful lot. he kept making remarks about it all the time, and said it had been broken and ought to come off. so at last i consented." john thomas had picked out another nail, but now for the first time began to display interest in the story, and looked up from his work as miss billy went on: "we gave her chloroform: i held the sponge myself while my cousin performed the operation. it didn't hurt her at all, and she really seemed handsomer without the tail, but a sorry sequel followed. i went to philadelphia soon after, and while i was there my uncle took me to a dog show. i never before saw so many beautiful dogs and among them was one almost exactly like my serena, and with three twists in her tail." "'you have a dog just like mine,' i said to the man who owned her. "'has your dog a tail like this?' he asked. "i told him 'yes,' and was just going on to explain to him how i had had it operated upon when he interrupted me. 'then it was a good breed,' he said. 'that tail is the mark of a fine dog. each curl in the tail adds fifteen dollars to the value of the animal.'" miss billy's eyes looked solemnly down into john thomas's widely distended orbs: "think of it!" she said: "forty-five dollars cut off at one fell swoop! i can assure you my cousin has never heard the last of it." "where's the dog now?" "dead. run over by a street car. i cried for months. i don't expect to ever own another like serena." john thomas drew a long breath, and turning to his box began a search for a leather hinge. miss billy felt herself distinctly dismissed, but she still held on to the fence. "i want to ask you,--" she began again,--"what i can do about a flower bed that's just all stones. i'm trying to dig it, you know." "take the stones out," said john thomas laconically. "but there wouldn't be anything left! it's _all_ stones!" "maybe it's just a fillin', an' there's good dirt underneath," suggested the boy. "won't you please step over and look at it?" entreated miss billy: so john thomas, with open reluctance, laid down his hammer and nails, and climbed as awkwardly as possible over the fence. "if it's fillin' it goes awful deep," he decided, after a quarter of an hour of hard work. "nothin' can't grow in here." "but i must have some flowers!" wailed miss billy, in despair. "why, that was one reason that i wanted to come and live on cherry street,--because there was a big yard here, you know." john thomas was regarding the rocky flower bed musingly. "i'll tell you what i can do," he said at last. "there's more than a foot of this out already,--an' i'll go down to where my father has got some teams hauling dirt from a cellar they're digging, an' i'll bring you a load, if you'd like it. it's good black dirt." "john thomas hennesy!" exclaimed miss billy, clasping her hands in ecstasy: "a load,--_a whole load_,--of black dirt?" "why sure," said john thomas, reddening with pleasure. "they're just dumping it into an old quarry." "a whole load of black dirt!" said miss billy, musingly. "i'll have pansies, and sweet-peas, and geraniums, and i'll sow grass seed on the bad places in the yard. john thomas hennesy, you're a prize!" * * * * * that evening, as the lee family assembled around the tea-table, the minister said cheerily, "i had a peculiar thing to be thankful for to-day. it was the song and whistle of a light-hearted boy. it helped me with my sermon." "i have to be thankful for a daughter who took the cake baking off my hands and helped me with the mending," said mrs. lee, smiling over at beatrice. "i am thankful for john thomas hennesy and black dirt!" declared miss billy fervently. "and i," wound up theodore proudly, "for getting a steady saturday job, taking care of brown's soda fountain, at a dollar a day!" chapter vi next door "of course i'm interested in my neighbour: why shouldn't i be? that fence between us only whets my appetite." at the same hour the hennesy family were having six o'clock dinner in the kitchen. mrs. hennesy, marie jean and john thomas were already seated at the table, but mr. hennesy still stood with his head enveloped in the roller towel at the kitchen sink. "an' ye say her name is billy, john thomas?" inquired mrs. hennesy, serving the corned beef and cabbage with a liberal hand. "sure now, it must be a mistake. maybe it's milly ye're afther hearin' thim call her. sure an' billy's no girl's name at all." "it's billy," persisted john thomas, between mouthfuls of cabbage. "her real name is wilhelmina, but it was so long and hard they've called her miss billy ever since she was a little girl. the miss is always in front of it though. that makes it feminoine." "saints have mercy!" ejaculated mrs. hennesy. "wilhelmina! it must be indian! mary jane, you ought to be thankful for your own name, that you ought, afther hearin' this wan." "an' not be thryin' to copy afther thim frinch quanes that got their heads cut off fer their impidence," put in mr. hennesy, emerging from the towel with every hair on end, and seating himself at the table with the scant ceremony of rolling down his shirt sleeves. marie jean gave her little head a toss, which was lost upon mr. hennesy as he helped himself to a piece of corned beef from the platter. "was she glad to get the dirt, john thomas?" he inquired good-naturedly. "glad!" said john thomas. "well, she was that tickled you'd 'a' thought it was gold. she tuk me into the house to make lemonade, an' then upstairs to show me her brother's room. my, yo' ought to see it, mary jane." "i s'pose it's just grand," said marie jean condescendingly. "it's all right," replied john thomas, "an' yo' bet i wisht i had one just like it. there ain't no carpets ner tidies ner fixins. the floor is painted kind o' red, an' the walls are red with all kinds of posters stuck 'round. an' there's a border at the top made out of sheet music with pictures on. my, it's great. right in the middle of the room there's a punchin' bag strung,--an' he's got dumb bells, an' boxin' gloves, an' there's a case of all kinds of money, some big name she called it, but it means, anyway, collectin' coins. he uses two hair brushes at a time, without any handles to 'em, an' there's a brush fer his teeth, an' a brush fer his hands, an' one fer his nails, an' a thing to polish his nails, an' two brushes fer his shoes, an' one fer his hat, an' another fer his clo'es." mr. hennesy's jaw had dropped lower and lower during this recital. now he closed his mouth with an effort and looked fixedly at his son. "john thomas," he said warningly, "you kape away from that loonytick. moind me, they're thryin' to take up his moind wid brushes an' punchin' bags, but this kind is cunnin' as foxes, an' there'll be mischief in the end. moind now, what i say." "why, pa," expostulated marie jean, with a giggle, "he ain't out of his mind." "he is," insisted mr. hennesy stoutly. "av coorse he is. wid a brush fer his hands, an' a brush fer his nails, an' another fer his teeth, an' two widout handles fer his hair, an' wan fer his clo'es an' two fer his shoes an' another fer his hat! av coorse he is, an' there takin' up his moind wid brushes. moind what i say." "don't expose yer iggerence, mr. hennesy," put in his wife good-naturedly. "people uses all thim brushes nowadays." "well thin, if he ain't crazy, what kind of work does he be doin' to nade all thim brushes to kape clean,--can ye answer me thot, mrs. hennesy?" john thomas gracefully turned the conversation. "she give me this," he said, putting his hand in his pocket and extracting something wrapped in tissue paper. "she said she had two others an' had been thinkin' of puttin' this one in the box fer the sufferin' savages, an' would i take it just to remember how we worked together over the flower bed. so then i tuk it." "what do it be for?" inquired mr. hennesy, eyeing the strange object with suspicion. "it's a nail file, to grind off yer finger nails,--if they grow long enough," answered john thomas, regarding his own broken nails meditatively. "it's silver, too," he added. mr. hennesy sniffed. "i'll not be borryin' it," he observed. "i'm not nadin' a file to kape me own nails short. the rocks i do be handlin' iv'ry day, john thomas, seems to be all that's required." marie jean's silvery laugh tinkled on the air as john thomas returned the file to his pocket and passed his plate for more cabbage. "miss billy's all right, anyhow," he went on, addressing his conversation to marie jean, for the laugh rankled. "she ain't ashamed if her name is wilhelmina, or even miss billy: an' she don't have no big bushy frizzes coverin' up her ears, an' she don't wear feathers in her hat. she told me so herself." marie jean's laugh tinkled again, and she rose from the table. she did not offer to help her mother wash the dishes, but swept into the hall and took her hat down from the rack, preparatory to going down town. it was a large black hat, heavy with buckles and plumes. she adjusted it coquettishly on her head so that one plume hung directly over her eyes, and took down her gloves. the vision that gazed back at her from the hall glass was certainly an entrancing one, but marie jean lingered for an experiment. she lifted the heavy hair off her ears, tucked it up out of sight, and holding back the waving plumes, gazed again. then with a shrug of her shoulders, she let hair and plumes fall, and swept out of the house. * * * * * on the other side of number cherry street mrs. canary was seated on the doorstep with the baby and the other baby in her lap. it had been a hard day for mrs. canary, for there had been an unusual amount of deferred mending and cleaning as a grand round up for the sabbath. but now that the supper was over, she felt at liberty to draw her first breath in the cool spring air, while her oldest daughter, holly belle, assisted by ginevra, commonly known as "jinny," cleared away the remains of the evening meal. on the sidewalk in front of the house, launcelot and fridoline were quarrelling over a catapult, while little mike, sitting on the gate post, was adding his shrill voice to the general tumult. mrs. canary, who was a great lover of romance and revelled in the lurid pages of the _hearthside companion_ and kindred publications was responsible for the high-sounding names of her children from holly belle to fridoline. when little mike had arrived on the scene, however, policeman canary had put his foot down on the cherished proposition to name the boy lorenzo. "you've done yer duty by all the rest of 'em," he said, "an' you've named 'em a-plenty. their own father has to call 'em 'say' when he speaks to 'em. this one'll be mike." and mike he was. owing to this difference of opinion between the heads of the household, the two latest arrivals were still known as the "baby," and the "other baby." but mrs. canary, in spite of her romantic tendencies and slip-shod ways, was a loving wife and mother, and had done her easy-going best to make her husband and children comfortable. years of poverty and toil and trouble had not destroyed the zest of living for her, nor altered her naturally sweet disposition. mrs. canary hushed the two babies upon her breast, and rocked slowly back and forth, making an improvised cradle of her body. night came late in cherry street during the month of may, but the dusk of the evening already enveloped the tiny porch. the night wind blew in coldly across the lake. but mrs. canary, oblivious to the chill in the air and the growing darkness, continued to read aloud, in her eager absorption, from a folded paper held above the children: "'two gleam-ing eyes looked out from the thick-et upon the moonlit path, where the beautiful lady gab-ri-ell-e paced to and fro with her lover. the moonlight shone full upon her robe of shimmering satin, thickly en-crusted with pearls, and sparkled in the diamonds that looped her fair tresses. lionel mont-fort bent ten-der-ly over her. burning love was written in every line of his handsome face, and all thoughts of future en-grand-dise-ment were forgotten for the nonce. "darling," he murmured, "i have found my affinity, and nothing shall come between us. let my lady mother rave,--nothing now shall per-suade me to marry the countess." "'at this juncture there ap-peared upon the lady gab-ri-ell-e's beautiful face a look of hor-ror that her lover never for-got. "treachery!" she cried, and pointed to the thicket. her lover's eyes followed her out-stretched finger,--but too late. a burst of flame leaped from the thicket, two terri-bul shrieks rang out on the night air----'" so intent upon the fate of the lady gabrielle was she, that she did not hear, above the noise of the dish washing and the quarrelling children, a genuine shriek that did ring out upon the night air. it was not until little mike pulled her gown with an excited exclamation, that she came back to the world of reality. "what's that you say?" she said. mike repeated his remark: "launkelot hitted a man wiv his catter pole." mrs. canary beamed with pride. "launkelot always was a accurate shot," she said fondly. at that moment the young marksman appeared at the gate. he was shrieking at the top of his healthy young lungs, and was being hurried along the ground by means of a strong arm which had united itself with his ear. at the other end of the arm was a tall, fierce old man, carrying a muddy top-hat in one hand, and hurrying his victim along with the other. the rest of the hastily summoned canary flock brought up the rear of the procession. mrs. canary laid the two babies behind the door where they could not be stepped upon in the melee, and faced the enemy boldly. "what's the matter here?" she inquired fiercely. "let go that boy. what's he done, i want to know?" "i will haf' the law on him already!" said the old man. his face was fairly purple with rage and his voice shook so that the words were hardly intelligible. "leave go of him!" commanded mrs. canary, with spirit. then her voice changed as she recognised the man before her. "oh," she said, in a milder tone, "it's you, is it? launkelot didn't go to hurt ye, i'm sure. leave go the boy, an' let him tell about it." the old man seemed not to hear her mollifying words. "he hung on to my buggy," he said, in angry tones, "unt when i tell him to 'get off,' he answer me back. i lick him behind mit my whip, unt he shoot me in the headt mit his snap gun----" "that wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice above them. the excited little group glanced up quickly. a young girl stood looking over the fence,--a girl in a white gown, with soft hair that shone like copper in the lamplight. "excuse me for interrupting," she said, "but i couldn't help hearing your conversation, and i want to tell you the whole story. i saw you drive past, and the robe was hanging out of your buggy. this little boy,--his name is launcelot, isn't it?--ran out to put it in. you called to him not to hang on, and he answered that he was only putting in your robe for you. without stopping to listen, you struck him with your whip. it was a mean and cruel thing to do. then he did shoot at you with his catapult, but you can't blame him for that! i should have done it myself if you had struck me." the old man stood gazing uneasily from one to the other during this recital. he loosened his grasp of the boy with a muttered growl. "why didn't you talk louder then?" he said to the astonished launcelot. an embarrassed silence fell upon the little group. the old man seemed dazed by the unexpected turn affairs had taken. he stared off into space, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other without finding further words. then he cast a hurried glance at the girl standing above him, and shuffled off into the growing darkness. mrs. canary caught the young sharpshooter to her breast. "ma's little hero-ine," she said fondly. "that's what ye get fer doin' good to that old sarpint. but you was cleared all right, wasn't ye? thank the lady, launkelot." "launkelot" dug his bare foot into the floor, and murmured a few words that might be interpreted as an expression of gratitude. "he is thankful, though bashful at the present moment," explained mrs. canary gratefully. "he ain't usened to havin' young ladies in white dresses, with hair of tarnished gold, springin' out of the dark like flamin' seruphims to defend him." "oh, i happened to be sitting on this side of the shelf, and i couldn't help hearing what was said," answered the girl merrily. "the shelf, is it?" asked mrs. canary, looking puzzled. the girl laughed. "the piazza,--the porch, i mean. we call it the shelf over here, because it's only about wide enough to set a pan of milk on. we're your new neighbours, you know." "well, it's glad i am to meet you," said mrs. canary heartily. "fridoline, be sure the babies' fingers ain't in that crack when you lean against that door. we're glad to make your acquaintance and thankful fer your defence of us: ain't we, launkelot? you see i couldn't rise in defence of my own innercent blood as swift as usual--i was that surprised at finding out who it was he had hitten. it was bold of you to talk that way to his face,--the old villain!" "why, whom do you mean?" asked miss billy. "that was mr. schultzsky, the landlord," said mrs. canary. chapter vii trials "oh, how full of briars is this working day world." miss billy had broken her shoe-string. there was not another in the house and the clock pointed half past eight of a school morning. "if you're ready," said theodore, putting his head in the door, "i'll walk to school with you. i have something to tell you." "i'm not ready, and don't expect to be," said miss billy crossly, giving the lace a pull and breaking it again. "there now, it can never be tied. i shan't go to school at all this morning, so there!" beatrice was shaking the pillows at the open window. "why wilhelmina lee!" she exclaimed,--"what a temper! how do you ever expect to get through the world if the breaking of a shoe-string upsets you?" "oh, it's all very well for you to moralise," retorted miss billy, trying to repair the offending lacing, "you who have nothing to do but stay at home and play lady, or do a little dusting. look at me,--going to school every day, taking two music lessons a week, 'way back in my latin, and those geraniums are not set out yet and it's going to rain this morning. it's enough to make any one wish to die." "we've no time for a funeral this morning," said mrs. lee, bustling cheerily into the room. "beatrice, i shall have to ask you to wash the breakfast dishes. maggie's toothache is worse, and she is getting ready to go to the dentist. i promised her that i would make the pudding and put the bread into the pans." "dear me," scolded beatrice; "i was just going to sweep my room. i can't put it off. maggie has toothache rather too frequently, i think, and dishwater just ruins my hands!" "well, of all the howling dervishes this morning!" said theodore in the hall. "miss billy, come along if you're ready, and there'll be one less." the minister stood in the doorway. he held miss billy long enough to rub a finger gently over the pucker between her eyes. "it's a brand new day, daughter," he said lovingly. "it's not fair to handicap it at the start with a frown." "i have troubles of my own," said theodore gloomily, as they jogged off to school together. "i've worked three saturdays at brown's, beside decoration day, and though i haven't drawn a cent of the money, there is only forty cents coming to me." miss billy stopped short, and her books fell to the ground. "i'd like to know what kind of arithmetic you call that!" she said, staring. "it's an example in profit and loss, and mainly loss," said theodore grimly. "don't breathe it, sis,--but treats have done it." "treats!" echoed miss billy. "you don't mean to say you have spent three dollars and sixty cents in treats, in that length of time!" "it's awful when you come to look it squarely in the face," acknowledged theodore. "but the girls come in,--and they expect it,--and what is a fellow to do?" "it's horrid of them, anyhow! and i'll cut their acquaintance,--every one of them,--when i find out who they are!" "you'll do nothing of the kind," said theodore haughtily. "i'll fight my own battles, if you please." "three dollars and sixty cents! if i had it in plants!" upbraided miss billy. "three dollars and sixty cents! if i had it in shoes!" mourned theodore. the wrinkles disappeared from between miss billy's eyes and she laughed outright. "it's funny, anyhow," she declared. "and you're in an awful position. i don't see how you are going to wriggle out of it now. the girls have such confidence in you by this time,--and brown's sodas are the best in town, if they do come high." theodore whistled through his closed teeth. "laugh away, miss billy. add every grain of discomfort you can. but i'll wriggle out of it sooner than you think. the one thing that worries me is the fear that i'll have to put my hand down into father's pocket for my new shoes--for that's what it amounts to. of course i can pay him back in a few weeks, but i hate to ask him for it just now." "i'll lend you my christmas gold piece,--i'd love to, ted." "well, i should say not. i haven't come to the place yet where i borrow from girls. and these shoes will be sandals before i borrow from father, either. but you're a good fellow, miss billy." miss billy's face beamed, and she gave her brother's arm an affectionate squeeze as they parted at the school door. "every dark cloud has a silver lining," she whispered comfortingly. "i wish my pocket had," responded theodore gloomily. "good-bye. look out you don't flunk in your latin to-day." * * * * * the rain that had threatened all day held off, and miss billy hurried home at four o'clock to plant her geraniums. beatrice, looking very cool and pretty in a blue dimity gown, stopped her in the hall and drew her into the dining room. "i'm glad you've come," she whispered. "the blanchard girls are in the parlour making a farewell call before leaving for europe. i want you to go in and entertain them while i get the apollinaris water out of the refrigerator for a pine-apple frappé. be nice and polite, dear, and shake hands with them. and do be careful what you say. don't tell them how many rooms there are in the house, or how much rent we pay, or hint at economy in any way. run along now,--there's a good sister." "i can't," objected miss billy. "i don't like those blanchard girls, and i have to set my plants out." "oh, please," begged beatrice. "you must. they'll see everything if they are left so long alone. tuck your hair-pins in and hurry along,--there's a dear." very reluctantly miss billy made her way to the parlour. there was a rustle of silk skirts as the blanchard girls rose to greet her. "how do you do?" said miss billy, in her best manner, making her voice and outstretched hand as cordial as possible. "so glad to find you in," drawled miss maude, with a shade of condescension in her manner. "we rode miles trying to find the place,--we had forgotten your address, you know,--and when we did find it,--what do you suppose?--it is the strangest coincidence,--why, casey, our coachman, don't you know, moved out of this very house in april." "well now, maybe that wasn't malice," thought miss billy hotly. "but i promised beatrice, so i'll go right on making myself amiable." "yes?" she said aloud coolly. "mrs. canary has told me a great deal about the caseys, but of course i never thought of connecting them with your john casey. indeed we've been so busy getting settled--that sounds like coffee grounds, doesn't it?--and we've had so many of our friends dropping in on us daily, that we haven't had time to think at all." "have you heard," lisped miss blanche, "that the van courtlands are intending to join their daughter in cologne, next month? we did so wish we might sail with them, but mr. van courtland thought we had better not defer our plans, as his time was so uncertain. have they called lately?" "well, i can't truthfully say they called, for mrs. van courtland brought a gingham apron with her when she came and helped mother arrange the silver and china, and mr. van courtland spaded half my flower-beds for me. he used to be a farmer, you know, before he was a banker." the young ladies of fashion exchanged glances of surprise. when miss maude spoke again there was trace of warmth in her manner. "you are quite cosily situated here; are you at all lonesome for the old home in ashurst place?" "well," said miss billy frankly, "i miss the bath-tub most awfully," and the next moment could have bitten out her tongue. "that's the first glaring indiscretion," she thought despairingly, "and there'll be more if beatrice doesn't hurry with that frappé." miss blanche smiled encouragingly. "do you know," she confided, "father thinks it was a great mistake, your moving here. he says he thinks your father's position as rector of st. john's demanded an entirely different course. father says there are at least a dozen men in the church that would have tided your affairs over. but ministers are seldom good business men, and i suppose your father is no exception to the rule. how does your dear mother bear up under it?" "under what?" asked miss billy. "you mean moving to cherry street? oh, mother is brave. she's like the young lady of norway: "who casually sat in a doorway: when the door squeezed her flat she exclaimed 'what of that?' this courageous young lady of norway. "beside, miss blanche, you are labouring under a delusion. i assure you we enjoy our new home in cherry street." "oh, it's very pleasant," conceded miss blanche hastily. "by the way, what has become of that lovely little _étagère_ of yours? i missed it the moment i stepped into the room." miss billy threw patience and prudence to the winds. "it's stored in a storing-room," she declared. "the last time i saw it, there was a bird-cage and a foot-stool on top of it. we had to pack a good deal of our furniture. we haven't fourteen rooms now, you understand." "good-afternoon, ladies," said a voice in the doorway. it was theodore, looking very mischievous. "i'm sorry i can't shake hands with you,--but i've been giving a hand in the erection of the conservatory on the south side--a fad of miss billy's." miss billy gasped. a conservatory! he must mean the glass sash he had been fitting over the pansy bed! "we've been at no end of trouble and expense since we moved here," went on theodore. "you see it is the first 'place' we have really had. there's one hundred and fifty feet of ground here. beatrice has planned for a sort of southern california verandah from which she can serve afternoon teas, and mother wants the lawn wired with electricity for social purposes." "how delightful," murmured the guests, looking a bit uncertain, while miss billy sat rigidly upright, trying in vain to catch theodore's eye. certainly, her mother had said that at the breakfast table, but it had been a joke, nothing more. "i have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and riding ponies, myself," went on theodore airily, and looking at miss billy now as if to say: "no word of untruth in that!" "still, there's the college grind to consider,--i shall be qualified next year, you know,--and a fellow gets precious little time for recreation." "are you--ah--still at brown's drug store?" interpolated miss maude, looking mystified. "sister myrtle has spoken of seeing you there. the child thinks so much of you." "and of ice-cream sodas," thought theodore grimly. "yes," he said aloud, "mr. brown wanted me to help him out on saturdays for a little while. he's in the church, you know. but i shall give it up when vacation comes." beatrice was entering with a dainty tray. "you'll pardon the delay, won't you?" she said sweetly, as she offered the sparkling glasses. "you'll have some, miss billy?" "no, i thank you," said miss billy, with heightened colour and a hasty manner. "if you will excuse me i'll see to my geraniums. good-afternoon." "and i," said theodore, "shall betake myself to the bathroom to remove the unseemly signs of toil. i'll take my frappé with me, bea,--may i? good-bye, girls. write me from gay paree when you reach there," and theodore followed miss billy into the dining room. "well?" he asked interrogatively, as he seated himself on a corner of the table to sip his frappé. "it's far from well, theodore lee," snapped miss billy reproachfully, undecided as to whether to laugh or cry. "you told awful, unmitigated falsehoods! you know you did!" [illustration: "i have a leaning toward an up-to-date stable and riding ponies, myself."] "my dear sister, i only enlarged upon truthful topics in a brilliant and society-like way. beside, i had to hand them back the small change. i never in my life heard such stilted, patronising talk as they were giving you. and when they jumped on father,--well, that decided it. good land, sis,--what's the matter with this frappé!" "don't drink it if you don't like it," said miss billy, refusing to be friendly. "like it! why it's awful! it tastes like spruce gum and carbolic acid and chloroform all mixed up. smell it, miss billy." "when you were little, mother used to wash your mouth with soap when you told falsehoods. it is probably some hazy recollection of that which is perverting your taste." theodore was taking another cautious sip. "it's a little like sauerkraut, but it has the effervescence of soda water. it's the most curious stuff i ever tasted." miss billy unbent sufficiently to put her nose to the glass. "why, it smells like yeast," she said wonderingly. "_that's_ what it is," said theodore, snapping his fingers triumphantly. "i knew it wasn't chloroform or carbolic, but i couldn't just name it. it's yeast!" "but what can yeast be doing in the frappé?" questioned miss billy unbelievingly. then as a sudden light broke upon her, she exclaimed, "oh, ted,--beatrice must have gotten the yeast bottle instead of the apollinaris water!--and for the blanchard girls of all others! they are in there trying to drink it now. what shall we do?" "nothing," said theodore decidedly,--"they've drank it by this time. you watch how they will 'rise' to go. 'sweets to the sweet,'--likewise yeast to the yeasty. dear girls,--how airily their feet will spurn the pave. and it will do miss blanche good! she's as flat as an oatmeal cracker." "theodore, you ought to be ashamed of yourself!" miss billy was almost crying now. "think of father when he hears all this,--and beatrice's feelings,--and the awful remarks they will make about us----" "if you are looking for your handkerchief, you're sitting on it," said theodore soberly. "don't cry, billy. i am going to father now and make a clean breast of the whole affair. there's no use staying to console beatrice about the yeast. she'll have fifty sporadic spasms!"--and he strode from the room. "oh, dear,--this has been a day of nothing but troubles," sighed miss billy, wiping her eyes,--"and i lost my temper the very first thing over a shoe-lace, and everything has gone crooked ever since. poor beatrice,--she tries to be so nice and ladylike,--and i know she will never get over this,--_never_!" chapter viii the story of horatius "they held a council, standing before the river gate. short time was there, ye well may guess for musing or debate. out spake the council roundly 'the bridge must straight go down, for since janiculum is lost, naught else can save the town.'" the sun had risen early to get a good start, and at nine o'clock was shining down with relentless fury on cherry street. theodore was wont to declare that the rain was wetter and the dew damper and the sun hotter on this street than in any other portion of the inhabited globe; and it was certainly true that the rows of small houses, unprotected by trees or awnings, did look unusually torrid in the broad glare of light. in the lee house the shutters were closed and the green shades drawn down, but the heat seemed to radiate from the painted door, on the south porch, where a small red-headed boy was trying to ring the door bell. it was a long reach for the little arms, and after raising himself so high upon his tiptoes that he nearly lost his balance, he gave up the attempt, and thumped lustily upon the panel. there was no response. he waited a moment, his small bare feet squirming about uneasily upon the hot floor, and then rapped a second time and a third. at the last knock another small red-roofed boy appeared over the top of the board fence that separated the canary yard from the lee home. "try it again," advised the owner of red head number two. "i have tried it lots of agains." "but ye ain't makin' no noise. mis' lee might be deef. kick 'er a little." "ain't got no shoes on," protested the little messenger. he had just raised his hand for a final rap when the door was opened, and mrs. lee appeared upon the threshold. "good-morning, fridoline," she said pleasantly. fridoline delivered himself of his message speedily: "ma's got an indisposhun and says please will you come over to wunst." "what is the matter with your mother?" inquired mrs. lee, puzzled by the queer statement. "she's got rigours," responded red head number one. "and her stummick's upset," added red head number two, across the fence. mrs. lee was already untying her apron. "tell her i'll be over there right away," she said, as she left the door to explain her absence to beatrice. miss billy, coming in from an errand some time afterward, stopped short at the sight of holly belle, who, with tear-stained cheeks and red eyes, was emptying ashes into the street. "why what's the matter, holly belle?" she asked. "ma's sick," said holly belle, rubbing her sleeve across her eyes. "very sick?" "i dunno. i guess she's pretty bad. she had highstericks this morning at dawn, but she wouldn't let me call your mother until she was sure by the smell of the coffee that you'd had your breakfast. i don't know what's the matter with her. i gave her all the kinds of medicine we had in the house, and there ain't none of 'em that seemed to do her a mite of good. your ma's here now, and she seems to be a little better. but you know i heard the death tick in the wall, and i'm scaret to death." and the tears rose again. "what's a death tick?" inquired miss billy, putting her arm reassuringly about the sorrowing little girl. "it's a bug in the wall that always ticks when people are goin' to--to die," sobbed holly belle. "pshaw!" exclaimed miss billy. "you don't believe that nonsense, do you? i can't think your mother is as sick as that, anyway. is the doctor there?" holly belle shook her head. "well then!" said miss billy triumphantly. "mother would have had him there long ago if your mother was dangerously ill. she'll probably be all right in a day or two. now cheer up, holly belle, and tell me what there is that i can do for you." a loud shriek from the back of the house answered the question. "it's the children," said holly belle. "they've been going on that way for an hour steady. i could make 'em behave, if it wasn't for launkelot. but he's got up a new game, an' of course they're all bound to see it through." "may i borrow them for a while?" asked miss billy. holly belle gave a visible sigh of relief. "i sh'd say you can," she responded heartily. there was no difficulty in finding the children, for a great hubbub in the back yard indicated that the small canarys were having a decidedly hilarious and enlivening time during their mother's enforced retirement. miss billy went around the walk to the back of the lee house, and surveyed her charges over the fence. the back yard in the canary premises had been partitioned off into little squares by means of a boot-heel which had grooved the hard dirt. in the first square sat ginevra "with raven ringlets unconfined, and blowing madly in the wind." her face and arms and bare legs were adorned with fantastic designs in coloured chalk; and a frayed rope, attached by means of a safety-pin to the hem of her dress, gave unmistakable evidence of a tail. she was waving her arms violently, and giving vent to wild, unearthly screams. fridoline, in the next compartment, had wound his fat body with coils of rope, which he was painstakingly chewing. tightly wedged into a dishpan in the third square, sat "mixy" murphy, in an airy costume of shirt and drawers; while mike, the baby, and the other baby were crawling about the ground in an abandonment of delight. miss billy waited for a lull in the proceedings. when it came she made haste to ask: "what in the world is all this?" launcelot, who was strutting through the enclosure, armed with a whip, took it upon himself to reply: "we're havin' a street carnival," he explained. "fridoline is playin' he's bosco the snake eater, jinny's minnie the wild girl, an' mixy is the high diver. you have to pay five pins to see him dive from the fence to the tank. the kids is camels, an' i'm boss o' the hull outfit. frid, jest show miss billy how much rope you can swaller without gettin' black in the face." miss billy hastened to prevent the heroic exhibition. "oh, no," she said, "you needn't mind, friddie. i've got something else for you to do. wouldn't you all like to come over and see me this morning?" the street carnival company gave vent to a wild yell of delight. "well, pick up your things first," cautioned miss billy, "and then come quietly so you won't disturb your mother. i'll be waiting for you." "picking up the things" was accomplished with neatness and dispatch, and five little canarys, two murphys, and leo and pius coffee, picked up on the way, were seated in the shade of the lee woodshed in solemn and somewhat embarrassed silence when miss billy appeared to welcome her guests. her arms were full of scarlet and white reeds, a big basket swung from one arm, and a mysterious-looking cloth bag from the other. she glanced around the augmented group with such surprise that launcelot felt called upon to explain. "i brung 'em along," he said, with a lordly motion of his hand toward the unexpected guests. "if you was goin' to give us something to eat, an' there ain't enough to go round, they kin go home." "launkelot!" exclaimed jinny. "the levis wanted to come, too," said fridoline. "their mother's goin' to the sin an' god." "goosey!" jeered launcelot. "sin an' god! he means synagogue. that's one on you, frid." fridoline, moved to tears by his brother's taunts, set up such a wrathful outcry that miss billy began to fear for her reputation as a hostess. "never mind, friddie," she said consolingly. "you may go and invite the levi children to come now, if you want to. hurry up, and we'll have something nice planned for you when you get back." miss billy deposited her burden on the ground. "i'm going to let you all help with my work," she said,--"every one of you, from ginevra down to the baby. these long strips are for baskets, and i'm going to show you how to make them for yourselves. the big basket is for a pattern, and the bag is full of flower seeds for the little ones to sort out, and take home for gardens of their own." the guests fell upon the work with great alacrity. "wait a minute," protested miss billy. "we're not ready yet. we must always wash our hands before we begin to work." this announcement dampened the ardour of the children. "them as sorts seeds don't need to wash, do they?" asked fridoline. "i choose to sort seeds!" came in a chorus from the smaller guests. "oh, yes, they do," responded miss billy decidedly. "why not, friddie?" "dirt makes seeds grow," argued fridoline. "not till they're in the ground," returned the hostess. "we'll all go up to the back porch to wash. i've got some cool water up there." a thorough and painstaking scrubbing took place on the back porch, for jinny, who was appointed inspector of persons, performed her duties with impartial vigour and energy. her delight in the toilet soap was extreme, and she modestly requested a bit of it "to take home for a sample." beatrice and maggie watched the proceedings with disgust, and the children themselves did not look upon the occasion as one of unalloyed pleasure; but miss billy was resolute, and the entire throng were at least clean down to their necks and up to their wrists when they took their places on the grass. fridoline surveyed his hands gloomily. "if i'd 'a' known i had ter wash i wouldn't have came," he said. "friddie!" exclaimed ginevra reproachfully. "fridoline doesn't think that's a very nice way to treat company," laughed miss billy. "he's like horatius. "'and see,' he cried, 'the welcome, fair guests, that waits you here!'" "what's hurashus?" asked ginevra shyly. "oh, he's a man in a story," responded miss billy. "the man who fought so bravely." launcelot pricked up his ears at the word "fought." "who did he fight? tell us about him," he commanded. "yes, please do," begged ginevra. "as soon as i get your work started for you," promised miss billy. her nimble fingers wove the bright reeds in and out for a few minutes. the children gathered near; ginevra settled the baby on her lap, and pulled the other baby close to her side. then slowly and carefully, as if to find words suitable for her childish audience, miss billy began: "it happened many years ago when rome was the biggest and the finest and the richest city in the world, that there was a brave soldier and gallant knight named lars porsena." "two of 'em?" questioned fridoline. "no, only one. lars porsena was the soldier and the knight too. and because he was angry at one of the romans he decided to lead a great army against them. you know what an army is?" "hoh! i sh'd say so! soldiers!" replied launcelot. "i know _you_ do," said miss billy, "but i thought the other children might not know." "i'll explain it to 'em," said launcelot loftily. "kids, you remember buffalo bill's men that was to the shooting park?" the little canarys loudly proclaimed the excellence of their memory. "well, them's soldiers," said launcelot. "go on, miss billy." "so he gathered his troops from everywhere--north and south and east and west--till he had a great big army. there were ten thousand horsemen, and twenty thousand men on foot. and with music playing and banners flying and the sunlight glittering on their spears, they set off towards rome with lars porsena at the head." "just like buff'lo bill," said fridoline. "sh," admonished ginevra. "sh, yourself," retorted fridoline defiantly. "in the meantime the romans knew they were coming, and they went down by the river gate to talk it over. the tiber river flowed by the city, and there was a big bridge----" "how bid?" inquired little mike. "i don't know how big, but it was very large indeed," went on miss billy, "so that the enemy had to cross it before they could get into the city. and there they waited until a messenger came flying up the hill to tell them that lars porsena and his great army were very near. they looked over to the west, and they saw the great cloud of dust coming up from the road." "what was they goin' to do?" asked jinny. "why bust into the city an' kill the romans," answered launcelot. "go on, miss billy." "and the romans knew that they would kill them all if they once got across the bridge," continued the historian. "and they hurriedly talked about what it was best to do. and then one of them had a plan. he was a wonderfully brave and noble man, and he wasn't afraid of anything." "bet he'd been scaret of a hyena," said the oldest levi boy. "he was not afraid of anything. and this was his plan. he told the romans that he would get two other men and alone they would cross the bridge and meet the enemy on the other side. this is what he said: "'hew down the bridge, sir consul, with all the speed ye may; i, with two more to help me will hold the foe in bay,-- in yon straight path a thousand may well be stopped by three. now who will stand on either hand and keep the bridge with me?'" "did they talk in po'try?" inquired ginevra with awe. "sometimes," said miss billy. "and two other brave men volunteered to go with him. the three crossed the bridge together, and boldly faced the army on the other side." the little canarys showed signs of restlessness, and the young murphys yawned, so miss billy went on hastily. "of course there was a terrible battle there. every time a man set foot on the bridge horatius or one of his companions would rush upon him and slay him." "how? with a spearer?" inquired aaron levi with interest. the story teller nodded. "till seven men lay dead, and horatius himself was wounded in the shoulder. the big army stood still. their chief was killed, and no soldier dared to move. meanwhile the romans had been at work at the bridge with their axes, and it hung over the river just ready to fall. the three men knew they must get back before it dropped. they started, but the great bridge cracked, and went down with a crash like thunder. two of the men had time to get over safely, but horatius was too late. he had darted back, and stood all alone on the bank of the river, with the enemy before him, and the broad river behind him. and then what do you think he did?" "speared 'em some more," suggested aaron levi. "died fer his country," quavered ginevra. "waded home," said fridoline. "no, the water was too deep. he sheathed his sword, and faint and weary though he was, plunged into the raging flood." "gee!" ejaculated launcelot. "the water was very high, his armour was heavy, and his wound pained him severely; but he kept on. the blood ran down upon his hands, and he sank again and again; but he still swam on till not only the romans, but the great army on the other bank cheered him and prayed for him. "and when he finally clambered out upon the shore, weary and weak and worn, they shouted and clapped their hands for very joy." the ringing words came involuntarily to miss billy's lips: "'and still his name sounds stirring unto the men of rome, as the trumpet-blast that cries to them to charge the volscian home; and wives still pray to juno for boys with hearts as bold as his who kept the bridge so well in the brave days of old.'" "and the big army didn't ever get in?" asked frank murphy. "no, never." "what did they do to horashuss?" inquired launcelot. "oh, they gave him a lot of land, for his own, and they set up a great statue of him." "i seen statutes already," said abraham levi. "you did not," said his brother aaron. "i did too. i seen 'em in the summitery." "he means the grave yard," explained ginevra. "aaron, stop hitting your little brother." "he's a-swipin' my seeds," complained aaron. "well, stop it, both of you," said launcelot decidedly, "or miss billy'll give you a bat in the eye." the threat had the desired effect. both of the little levis subsided suddenly. "you may take the seeds home and plant them yourselves," said miss billy. "there are nasturtiums and petunias to put into a bed and morning glories and flowering beans to train over porches. we'll all have gardens of our own." "you've got a pretty yard," said ginevra wistfully. "it's getting green," responded miss billy. "the grass seed is all coming up over the bare spots. now if you had a green lawn extending to ours, and that shabby old fence between us was down----" "why don't you pull it down?" inquired launcelot. "i know mr. schultzsky would never let me," said miss billy. "i wouldn't dare ask him. but it's so old and rotten that some day it will just fall down itself, and then we'll have a barberry hedge there, and the yard will begin to look like something." "what's a berbarry haige?" inquired launcelot. "a nice little row of bushes trimmed evenly, so that it makes a low fence," explained miss billy. "listen, children, some one is calling." mrs. lee, who had come around the walk, smiled down at the little group on the grass, whose full hands and happy faces bore testimony of a pleasant morning. "your mother will be all right in a day or two," she said, "and holly belle wants you to come home for dinner." the children rose with reluctance. "kin we come again?" asked ginevra wistfully, as she gathered her little charges. "of course you can," said miss billy. "i'd love to have you here, if you like to come. how would you like to spend two hours with me every saturday morning?" "what 'ud we do?" inquired launcelot. "oh, lots of pleasant things: we can sew and read, and play games, and sing. i can find enough for you to do, never fear." "how much do we have to pay?" inquired aaron levi cautiously. "not a cent," laughed miss billy. "the only price is clean hands and face. we'll meet out here in the yard, and i'll raise children as well as flowers. you'll be my child garden, you see. come at nine next saturday, and we'll have another good time." the children filed happily around the corner of the house, all talking at the same time, but their voices lowered as they passed out of vision. they held a whispered conversation as they passed the rickety fence, launcelot expressing some iconoclastic sentiments in a husky undertone. they were still whispering as they entered the canary yard, and edged mysteriously along the side of the house between the porch and the fence. "it'll be just like playing horashuss," urged launcelot. "but what would miss billy think?" asked ginevra doubtfully. "you heard what she said. she'd think it was brave!" said launcelot in his most lordly tones. "but s'pose some one would see?" quavered ginevra. "aw pshaw! they ain't no one a-goin' to see. and if they do, what then? go in if you're afraid." ginevra hesitated. "miss billy'd like it," went on the tempter. his sister flung prudence to the winds. "i'll help," she said. holly belle's voice rang out impatiently a second time: "child-run, din-ner." "we'll be there in a minute," called launcelot impatiently. "now hurry up, kids. take a-hold, here. no, not so near together. now, i'm going to count. when i say three, you all pull like the dickens, and then run, lickety split. get out of the way there, mike." the children grasped the rotten palings. "one--two--three," counted launcelot. the little army gave a mighty tug. the rotten wood splintered, split, yielded; the fence fell with a crash, and a sorry mass of decayed boards covered the yard. the children waited to see no more, but rushed about the house as though old mr. schultzsky himself was in their wake. launcelot and ginevra turned at the basement steps to help little mike, who had fallen upon his face in the stampede. from his place of vantage launcelot glanced around to see if they were being pursued. there was no one in sight, and all was still. "now," said launcelot boldly, "miss billy can have her berbarry haige." chapter ix beatrice "and he who wins the fight with self has won the bravest battle." "good-bye, miss billy." "good-bye, beatitude. you're a dear to help me off in this way. i won't forget it in a hurry." "all rightie. see that you don't." "and bea, don't vex your soul over that mending basket. it's only one stitch in nine that saves time, you know." "i won't, but you'd better make haste; you'll miss the boat." "a miss wouldn't be as good as a mile then, would it? good-bye, again. yes, mother, i _have_ a handkerchief. also a corkscrew for the olives. also my rubbers. good-bye, everybody." miss billy was going to a picnic, and in her usual way. the whole house had been in an uproar since six o'clock. there had been a hurried dressing, a hurried breakfast, and a hurried packing of lunch; and it was not until the blue linen suit disappeared around the corner that a lull fell over the home, and the household paused to take breath. there were still the remains of the preparations for lunch to be cleared away, the study to be made clean, and the disorder which was left in miss billy's wake to be remedied. her sister's work added to her own took beatrice longer than usual, and it was ten o'clock before she came languidly into the garden with the mending basket under her arm. she tumbled out a large bundle of ragged stockings, and set to work. it was hot and deserted on cherry street. even in the shade, where beatrice sat, the air was sultry and close, and the garden seat warm to the touch. the children seemed to have melted away from sidewalk and gutter. the absence of miss billy and theodore had left the place unnaturally dull and forlorn, and the incessant tick-tick of the little creatures in the grass was the only sound that broke the stillness. beatrice's thoughts flew with her needle. last year at this time the whole family were at gordon's lake for the season. and it had been such a gay summer. a summer of boating and dancing; of driving and golfing, of pretty clothes, and new friends and good times. a summer of long, jolly, merry days, and of long, cool, restful nights. a summer that seemed made for the merriment that only ended when the last good-byes were said. and now everybody else was going away; the seabrookes, and the van courtlands and even the blanchards; and they were to be left at home. it was all right for the rest of the family; theodore hated "resorts," and miss billy never seemed to care for anything so long as she had her beloved books and flowers and children. "but i care," thought beatrice bitterly, "more than i ever thought i should care for anything." it was easy enough to be good when one was happy, when good friends and pleasant times and pretty clothes were one's birthright; but when poverty and hard work was one's portion, when one's clothes were shabby and when one lived on cherry street----! a hot tear baptised theodore's gay striped sock, and beatrice, forgetful of her age and dignity, put her head down on the garden seat, and like little cinderella, "let the tears have their way." the stout, rosy-faced man who came up the front walk and rang the door bell did not look like a fairy godmother, but the most beneficent fairies go about disguised. beatrice was so busy wiping her eyes that she did not notice his arrival, and as she went bravely back to work she little guessed the surprise that was in store for her. not even the glad note in her mother's voice when she called her into the house made her suspicious. the rosy-faced man was leaning up against the door of the study, smiling benignantly at mr. and mrs. lee. he beamed even more delightedly as beatrice entered. mrs. lee scarcely waited for their greeting. her eyes shone as she put her hand on her daughter's shoulder, and her voice was very happy as she said: "guess, dearie, what mr. van courtland has come for. he wants you to go abroad next week." the self-possessed beatrice lost her dignity. she grew rosy with delight and gasped speechlessly for a moment before she ejaculated brokenly: "me? to go abroad? oh, mother!" that "oh, mother!" settled the matter, mrs. lee decided at once that she must go. "it will not be a very long trip," explained mr. van courtland. "we did not intend to start until later, but that bugbear 'business' stands like a fence between me and the rest of the world. be thankful, lee, that you are not a banker. mrs. van courtland and i shall sail on the th, land seven days later, and go immediately to cologne for margaret. we hope to be in germany long enough for the rhine trip, but shall probably sail for home immediately afterwards. we planned to borrow miss billy to take with us, but mrs. van courtland says that the sea breezes will be just the thing for beatrice's pale cheeks. she ought to see you this minute, young lady. you're anything but pale and wan now." beatrice did not even notice the compliment. her brain was moving faster than mr. van courtland's words. europe, sea breezes, the rhine! to leave the heat and dust of the city, the shabbiness and noise of cherry street, for the enchanting country across the sea. it seemed like a glorious dream of white-capped waves and cool breezes, from which one must wake up to the swarming canarys and the loud-voiced hennesys on cherry street. "and if she goes, she goes as our guest. mrs. van courtland dreads the trip, and i confess a lingering longing for a young piece of humanity when i am aboard ship. as for our own margie,--why she will jump out of her beloved germany with joy when she sees a glimpse of her home friend. we will consider it a great favour if you'll lend us your girl for a while." the matter was hurriedly decided. mrs. lee looked over at her husband with a quick glance that showed how much motherly love and anxiety for her daughter was at stake. the minister answered with a nod and a smile that seemed to say, "we must manage it." mr. van courtland departed satisfied, and beatrice returned to the garden seat to dreamily wind the darning cotton into a snarl, and whisper joyfully to herself, "i am going abroad." there was a family council after supper that night. beatrice had rather dreaded to tell miss billy the glorious news, feeling that the trip was originally planned for the younger sister, but miss billy sternly frowned upon her sister's reticence. "the idea!" she said scornfully, "of thinking that i should be so mean and small about a thing like this. you would have been delighted if this trip had come to me,"--beatrice made a small mental reservation--"and it belongs to you anyway. you need it more than i do." if she felt any disappointment she failed to show it either in action or word, but went on making extravagant plans, and most elaborate suggestions for the trip. she offered to lend beatrice anything and everything she possessed, from her cut glass vase to her ice cream freezer, and the last thing the elder sister heard that night was a recipe for sea sickness and an idea for making over a travelling suit out of miss billy's brown gown. it was daybreak when beatrice awoke. the house was very still and quiet, and the light morning breeze blew aside the white curtains at the windows. beatrice raised herself on one elbow and looked out at the little glimpse of water visible between the high roofs. the sun was rising, away out on the breast of the lake, and each little ruffled wave was touched with a crest of gold. beatrice was not often affected by her surroundings, but just now, in the light of her new happiness, the day seemed symbolic of her life, and the sun that gilded the grey waves like the pleasant plan that had made her sombre life glad. yesterday's grief seemed very far away, and to-day's joy was very near and dear. she clasped her hands, and whispered earnestly: "help me to deserve it, lord." the sounds of the two whispered voices which came from the next room did not disturb her, and she lay dreamily happy in her own thoughts, until the sound of her own name aroused her. it was her father's voice that said: "well, beatrice needs it. we must manage it some way." the girl turned her head, and listened intently as he continued: "how much money is it going to cost us?" mrs. lee's estimate was not discernible, but her husband's reply betrayed its tenor: "i wish a hundred dollars came as easily to me now as it did six months ago." "i don't see how we can do it for any less," said mrs. lee. "bea's wardrobe is scanty, and she will require more clothes than she needs when she is at home. beside, she will have to have money for incidentals. mr. van courtland is very generous, but we don't want to impose on him, or embarrass beatrice." "oh, no, she can't get along with any less. still, it will be a little hard to spare just now. i feel our poverty most when it touches the children." "it _is_ a good deal, but i think it's worth the sacrifice. beatrice has looked white and worn lately, and we can't afford to let her be sick." "i hadn't noticed it," said mr. lee anxiously. "do you think she's not well?" "it's heart sickness as much as anything else. bea has never seemed happy since we moved onto cherry street. she misses the old home and the old friends. she was not so easily reconciled as wilhelmina and theodore." "then i think more than ever that we must manage it. i shall not regret the effort if she comes back physically improved. after that i'll trust the mental and moral indisposition to take care of themselves. bea is not naturally pessimistic." "but i don't see exactly how we are to arrange it. we are living so near to our income just now; and i don't know how to economise more closely than i have been doing." mr. lee made a suggestion that beatrice did not hear, to which his wife replied decidedly: "no, dear man, you can't get along without that. a minister can't afford to go shabby. we'll find some other way of saving. i can let maggie go home for a month or two. beatrice's going away will make the family smaller, and i'm sure wilhelmina and i could do the housework." "no indeed." the minister's voice was most emphatic. "that would be extravagant economy. you would be sick in a month. i can spare the money, i'm sure, but i shall have to give up a cherished plan to do it. i hoped to be able to rent a horse and buggy for you two days a week this summer. you don't get enough of out of doors, and it tires you so to walk." there was a glad little note in mrs. lee's reply that went straight to bea's heart. "oh, if that is all!" she exclaimed. "why john, i'd rather never drive again than to have beatrice miss this opportunity. it will mean so much to her. beside, dear, do you think i would enjoy driving around in state while my husband was shabby?" "no, it doesn't sound like you," said mr. lee. "still, i would like to do it for you," he added wistfully. "well, dear, don't say a word to spoil beatrice's pleasure. she seemed so glad to go! and i think we all would be willing to sacrifice ourselves a little for her sake." the conversation ended there. the father and mother went back to sleep, and the eavesdropper returned to her pillow with wet eyes. her soul, as well as her body, was wide awake, and perhaps for the first time in her life, beatrice realised the beauty and divineness of self sacrifice. in the light of the whispered conversation the melancholy of the day before seemed petty and unworthy, and the girl who sternly choked back the tears of disappointment was not the girl who had wept in the garden. nobody ever knew of the struggle which took place in the little white bed, nor was any the wiser for the puddle of tears that made a miniature lake in the pillow; but beatrice was victor in the battle with herself. as the clock struck five, a slim little figure in white crept silently out of bed, and tiptoed over to the desk, that miss billy should not be wakened. a stranger would not have appreciated the depth of the struggle; but to beatrice it was the tragedy of a lifetime, and there was real heroism in the letter which read: "dear, dear mr. van courtland: "i hope you won't think i am silly to change my mind so suddenly, after all the arrangements were made yesterday, but i have decided that i must not go. i know that you won't misunderstand my motive, because you know how much i long to go, and how grateful i am to you both for inviting me. "father and mother both are willing that i should go, but i know that my trip would mean a big sacrifice on their part, which i am not willing to accept. you and mrs. van courtland have always been so kind to me that i am sure you will understand what i mean, and help me to do what is right. "i can never tell you how grateful i am to both of you. "lovingly yours, "beatrice lee." chapter x a broken sidewalk "does he study the wants of his own dominion? or doesn't he care for public opinion a jot? the akond of swat." miss billy entered the study with an agitated whirl of ribbons and hair. her hat was off, her face flushed, and every curl stood on end. "what do you think i have discovered?" she said in indignant tones. beatrice looked up calmly from her mother's chair. mr. and mrs. lee were spending the day away from home, and the elder daughter responded to the question with a little air of authority that was particularly exasperating to miss billy in her present mood: "if you had asked what you had _lost_ i should know," she said coolly. "your temper has evidently gone astray." "i know i'm foolish to blaze up so suddenly," admitted miss billy; "but it's the injustice of the thing that made me hot. mrs. canary has just been telling me how much rent the caseys paid for this house." "how much was it?" inquired beatrice. "less than we are paying?" "fifteen dollars instead of twenty," said miss billy indignantly. "but of course i wouldn't say a word about it if old mr. schultzsky had made the repairs he promised. he hasn't lived up to his agreement at all. we paid for having the house painted; father furnished the screens; theodore mended the gate, and i propped up the back fence, myself. that window upstairs is still broken, and when ted reminded him of it he grunted and remarked that the cold weather was over. the doorbell is out of order, the step is broken, and that walk in front of the house is a disgrace to the world. the whole tottering skeleton of a house will fall in a heap some day. if we pay twenty dollars a month for rent, as we agreed, he is going to do the things he agreed to." "how are you going to bring this law of equality about?" inquired theodore. miss billy hesitated. the conferences with the landlord in the past had not met with any visible amount of success. still there were forces which had not as yet been brought to bear. miss billy decided quickly, as was her custom. "what he needs is some one to tell him a few unvarnished truths," she said energetically. "father is too easy to deal with him, and mother is too ladylike. i'm going to interview him myself." "billy the bold!" exclaimed theodore. "my heart swells with pride at your courage. where and when is the interview to take place?" "i don't know," said miss billy dubiously. "i don't believe he has an office, and i hate to go inside that mouldy old shell across the street. i have my suspicions about his living there, anyway. he looks as though he slept in that old buggy of his." "you might advertise and arrange a meeting that way," suggested theodore. "'sprightly maiden of sixteen wishes to meet a scholarly and refined gentleman of sixty-five. object, new sidewalk, and what may follow.'" "i've half a mind to tackle him to-day," said miss billy musingly. "the rent is due, and i might soften the blow with a generous bill. i believe i'll try it. give me the rent money, theodore. i'll get a promise out of him, or die in the attempt!" "do you mean to say you're going to pay him the rent yourself, and express your sentiments then?" asked theodore. "yes, i do," returned miss billy stoutly. "what shall you say to him?" asked beatrice, with a note of admiration in her usually even voice, for miss billy never looked prettier than when she stood in her face-the-world attitude, with eyes big and earnest and face aglow. "she will arm herself with the butcher-knife and the rent money," jeered theodore, "and meet him at the door. and, withering him beneath her stern and forbidding glance, she will say: 'move at the peril of your life. mend the doorbell, put in the glass and fix the front walk before you speak a word. stand and deliver.' and he will remark, like riley's tree-toad, 'don't shoot, i'll come down'; and ask, yea, beseech her to permit him to go for his tack hammer." "well, we need the improvements badly enough," said beatrice, "but i don't think you'd better try it, wilhelmina. it seems so bold,--somehow. besides, you won't get anything out of him." "just you wait and see," said miss billy confidently. it was about an hour later that mr. schultzsky's thin horse stopped at the gate, and mr. schultzsky himself shuffled up the narrow walk to the front door. "here comes your victim, sisterling," announced theodore cheerfully. "do you feel that you need me for a witness, or to preserve the dignity of the occasion?" billy took off her sweeping-cap, and slowly adjusted the safety pins at the back of her shirt-waist. "just let him wait a while," she said. "that'll show him that the bell is out of order." but in spite of her savage words she met him at the door smilingly. "good-morning, mr. schultzsky," she said cordially. "will you come in?" for answer mr. schultzsky held out his monthly account. "oh, the rent bill!" responded miss billy. "you're like the stork, mr. schultzsky, that always comes around with a big bill. but i want to talk with you a few minutes. won't you come in?" the landlord ignored the feeble joke, and gave a stolid grunt, which miss billy interpreted as a refusal. "well," she said, sitting down on the doorstep, "if you won't come in i suppose i can talk to you here. mr. schultzsky, perhaps you noticed that our doorbell is broken." the old man made no reply, and miss billy went on: "the window upstairs has never been mended----" mr. schultzsky shuffled his feet uneasily, but gave no other sign of having heard her speech. "and our front walk is so broken that it will be the death of somebody some day," continued miss billy. she paused for a response, but none came. "when we came in here you promised to put the house in good repair for us," said the girl desperately, "but you have not kept your word. everything that is new about the premises _we_ have added. theodore put up the fence, and has been puttering around the place ever since we moved in; the bill for painting and papering the house was sent to father (i never should have paid it if i had been in his place), although you promised to have it done. the whole house is shaky on its legs, and weak in its joints, and yet we are paying you big rent for it. i found out to-day that you are charging us five dollars a month more than you did the last tenants." did miss billy imagine it, or was there a gleam of avaricious triumph in the half-closed eyes? "you are not dealing fairly with us!" she exclaimed wrathfully. then, in a more amiable tone, she added: "we _want_ to be good tenants, you know; but aren't you going to make any of your promises good?" mr. schultzsky took out his dingy bandanna and mopped his forehead. he made neither apology nor protest. "the rent is due," he said. miss billy's cheeks glowed as she meekly handed out the bills. "maybe they'll make him more responsive," she thought to herself. the landlord folded them, put them carefully into a huge wallet, and placing the rent account against the side of the house, receipted the paper in a queer cramped hand. then thrusting it into her mechanical grasp, he turned, and without another word, shuffled off down the walk. he hesitated at the gate and turned. "good-morning, ma'am," he said. then climbing into the rattle-trap, he drove rapidly away. miss billy, left alone on the doorstep, was torn by conflicting emotions. angry as she was, she could not fail to see the humour in her ignominious defeat. and she was not the only one who was amused. the screen in theodore's window came down with a bang, and a boyish voice chanted: "b was once a little bear, beary, wary, hairy, beary, taky cary, little bear." miss billy at once retorted: "g was once a little goose, goosy, moosy, boosey, goosey, waddly-woosy, little goose," and added, "did you hear our conversation?" "_our_ conversation! i heard _yours_. is mr. schultzsky going to fix the premises, or did he raise the rent?" "the old icicle!" scolded miss billy. "i couldn't get a word of satisfaction out of him. when he skewered me with those sharp eyes of his i couldn't talk." "his glances would be in good demand in this family," remarked theodore. "i'm glad you got slammed, myself. you were so all-fired smart about making an impression on him. i suppose you thought that when you had an axe to grind he'd run at your bidding with the cheerful expression of the lion on the norway coat-of-arms. you've got your come-up-ance, miss billy." his sister deigned no reply. "what are you going to do about the sidewalk?" inquired her tormentor. "fix it myself," said miss billy haughtily. "i'd like to see you do it," said theodore. "it will be the second thing you've made a failure of on this bright and beautiful holiday." "wait and see," said miss billy, with determination in her step. she made her way to the pile of packing boxes in the cellar. "they won't make very good lumber," she said to herself, "but they're all i can get without sacrificing my own modest and retiring income. beside, i suppose they will be easier to work with than heavy planking would be." it took time and strength to knock the boxes to pieces, and measure the boards; but miss billy was a born carpenter, and ted's parting words added impetus to the task. an hour later, beatrice, attracted by the noise of hammering in front of the house, looked out of the window. down on her knees on the front walk was miss billy. she had on a chemistry apron made of gorgeous striped ticking, which was much stained by chemicals used in the school laboratory. a hideous garden hat was perched rakishly on her head, and a pair of theodore's old gloves protected her hands. her face was flushed, and her hair towsled; but two of the rotten planks in the walk had already been replaced by clean new ones, and the young carpenter was nailing down a third with great energy. five of the canarys and a varied assortment of murphys and levis were grouped around the spot, making a most appreciative audience. beatrice waited to see no more. she threw on a hat, and rushed to the fence. "wilhelmina lee!" she exclaimed angrily. miss billy raised a moist and somewhat grimy face. "what are you doing?" inquired her sister. "mending the walk," answered miss billy, articulating with some difficulty, for her mouth was full of nails. "well i should think you'd be ashamed," said beatrice with spirit. "i regret to say that i am a trifle ashamed," said billy, removing the nails. "i have a miserable kind of false pride that fills me with dread lest any one of the blanchard type see me doing honest labour. that's why i put this apron on,--for a disguise, you know." "you needn't worry about concealing your identity," responded beatrice angrily. "nobody in the world but you would come out in full view of the public to make an exhibition of herself." miss billy turned to her childish audience. "the public don't seem to be shocked," she said. "if mother were home----" began beatrice. "well, she isn't," responded miss billy coolly, "and i'm hoping to finish this walk before she gets back. you'd better go in, bea. the chips may hit you." "although through life she'd stride and stalk, she put some boards in father's walk," chanted theodore, looking over the fence; "goodness, miss billy, have you done this much yourself? you are not only a model of industry, but a talented carpenter. i suppose now i'll have to acknowledge my defeat, and come and finish the job." "you certainly will _not_ have to finish the job," retorted miss billy, "although i shall be glad to hear your humble apology." "don't you want any help?" "no," returned his sister stoutly. "i'm sorry," said theodore, hanging his coat on the fence, "for i'll have to work 'agin your will.' it isn't that i distrust your ability, miss billy, but i should hate to have the neighbours say 'look at that poor lee girl laying a walk to save her brother's white and shapely hands.'" miss billy heaved a sigh of relief. "i have to confess that i shall be glad of your help," she said. "i know now what it means to go 'agin the grain.' every one of those boards grew in that way." "sit on the curbstone and boss the job," commanded theodore, "while your talented brother performs on the saw for a while. miss billy, in spite of all that flumpy motion of yours, i am still proud of you. you haven't much in the way of gait, but you have lots of grit." the last visitor was john thomas, who was returning from the grocery. he stopped at the sight of theodore, who was driving nails and fitting boards, and sending miss billy into gales of laughter with his droll remarks. "would you be likin' help?" inquired john thomas timidly. "no, no, indeed," responded theodore promptly. "shall i let your ruthless hand have any share in this matchless work of art? perish the thought! why, john thomas, this walk is my masterpiece, the work that shall live after me. behold in me the michael angelo of sidewalks. after my death people will gaze upon this construction with tears and pride, and my monument will bear flattering mention of my prowess." "although his gift was mainly talk, he put some boards in father's walk," said miss billy, with a sly twinkle. "that's too good to be impromptu," accused theodore. "you made that up in the privacy of your apartments, and have been waiting for the chance to spring it on me. now you observe what sisters' taunts are, john thomas." "i know already," said john thomas. "that darn mary jane----" "tut, tut, john thomas," interceded miss billy. "marie jean is not as bad as she is painted." "or powdered," added john thomas with a sardonic grin. "how's that for a highly coloured statement, miss billy?" asked theodore impudently. miss billy tried to look severe, but the dimples would show in spite of her efforts. john thomas gazed at her merry face admiringly. "i wisht you was my sister," he said. "you can make fun over people, without making fun _of_ 'em. mary jane is the most provoking--say, don't you want me to help you, honest?" "not now," said theodore. "we have to go back to school this afternoon, and there are no more planks left, anyway. i'll tell you what you _can_ do, john thomas. if you'll help me finish this, next week, i'll turn in afterwards, and help you mend the broken planks in yours." "all right," assented john thomas, not unwillingly. "we'll show old abraham schultzsky-czaravitch that we don't need his help," continued ted; "and the people on cherry street how sidewalks ought to look. what shall i do with those decrepit places near the gate? there isn't another board in sight." "dear me," said miss billy. "we should have begun at the other end of the walk, where the planks are in the worst condition. some one will be sure to go through those two old boards, and break a leg or two before next week." "maybe it'll be old moneybags himself," suggested theodore cheerfully. "i hope it will," said miss billy. chapter xi weeds "witch-grass and nettle and rag-weed grope,-- paupers that eat the earth's riches out,-- nightshade and henbane are lurking about, like demons that enter in when a soul has run waste to sin." june, departing, had scattered her wealth of floral treasures wide over the land, and cherry street, lowliest child of her adoption, had not been forgotten. under the wholesome influence of trowel, watering-can, and good black soil miss billy's garden had grown apace, and now burst into such a riotous excess of bloom as brought the small cherryites to the fence in groups of silent adoration. beds of scarlet geraniums glowed like the heart of rubies on the green lawn. sweet peas were opening their pretty eyes and peeping over into mr. hennesy's yard. june roses, white, pink, and blood red, swung on their stems breathing incense night and day, while on the side of the house bloomed the pansy bed, hundreds of pretty faces of many colours and marvellous size. over the back fence nasturtiums were opening their golden hearts, and a group of tall hollyhocks stood boldly disputing right of way with the arms of the hennesy clothes reel. mrs. hennesy had been sweeping, and now she stood in the upstairs window looking down at the floral display in her neighbour's yard. "it do be lookin' loike a park, mary jane," she commented at last. "mrs. casey was a good neighbour an' its mesilf that'll niver be over missin' her,--but she niver had things lookin' loike that. an' it's that girl--'miss billy,' as they call her,--that's done it all." marie jean, who had condescended to the menial task of setting her bureau drawers to rights, turned her head slightly. "well," she commented indifferently, "if she wants to waste her time on an old garden i suppose it's nobody's business but her own." mrs. hennesy discreetly waived the argument. "i think i'll be goin' over there to see thim this afthernoon, mary jane. they're that noice an' frindly it ain't roight for us not to be goin' near thim. miss billy has axed me twice to have you come over. it ain't neighbourly, mary jane,--that's what it ain't." "well, go on if you want to," said marie jean, beginning to hum a tune to show the matter was too trifling for further consideration; but she broke off to add, "wear your bead cape and your lace bonnet if you do go." mrs. hennesy's face took on a look of despair. "well now, mary jane," she began, "it's just a neighbour, an' a clane apron----" "you must wear your bead cape and your lace bonnet," reiterated marie jean, with spirit. "and be sure you go to the front door. you must go decently, or not at all." mrs. hennesy departed from the room, and presently went down the stairs in all the glory of her best dress, augmented by the bead cape and the lace bonnet. marie jean secretly surveyed her through the crack of the door, and returned to her task somewhat mollified. "i guess they won't find anything to laugh at in that bead cape," she said, with a toss of her head. mrs. hennesy passed out through the kitchen door, but returned again. she drew off her black silk mitts, stepped to the stairs to see if by any chance marie jean was listening, and tiptoed back to the kitchen cupboard. she looked uncertainly into the coffee can which was quite full, then into the tea caddie which was half full, and finally shook the sugar box, which responded roundly. "well, i'll borry some tea, annyway," she whispered, and taking a cup, secreted it carefully under the bead cape. thus fortified, she passed around to the front gate, and, thankful that marie jean's point of vision could no longer command her actions, hurried around by way of the pansy bed to her neighbour's side entrance and rapped at the door. mrs. lee responded to the summons. "why, it is mrs. hennesy," she said cordially, extending a hand to welcome her neighbour. "do come in. it is cooler here in the dining room than in any other place in the house at this time of the day, so we'll sit right here. beatrice, won't you take mrs. hennesy's cape and bonnet?" "well, now, i can't stay a minute," protested mrs. hennesy, in her soft irish brogue. "i must be goin' back to start supper fer mr. hennesy, fer he gets no dinner these days but the bite he takes wid him in a pail. an' i only stepped over to see if i c'ud borry a drawin' of tea fer his supper. me an' mary jane has been that busy all day we c'udn't get to the store." the cup was filled with the desired "drawing of tea," and stood in readiness on the table, but as the minutes sped, mrs. hennesy, warm and perspiring, but loyal for marie jean's sake to the bead cape, began to feel more at ease. mrs. lee was not like mrs. casey, it was true, and could never fill her place,--but she would make a good neighbour,--and the girls were as pretty as pictures with their contrasting styles of beauty and pretty dresses. of course, they were not to be compared with mary jane. mary jane was--well, more dressed-up like and stylish, than these lee girls. but they were nice and kind, and treated their mother like a queen. mrs. hennesy wished mary jane might be there to see it. "sure an' mary jane will be in to see you wan of these days, soon," said mrs. hennesy as she rose to terminate her call. "it's bashful she is, or else jealous, wid john thomas soundin' miss billy's praises all day long. it's 'miss billy says this,' an' 'miss billy does that,' an' he thinks mary jane can't hould a candle to miss billy,--an' that's the thruth of it." "and i think john thomas is a jewel," declared miss billy warmly. "i wouldn't have a flower now if it wasn't for him. do come out and look at them, mrs. hennesy,--and carry a bouquet to your daughter from me." "well now,--if them ain't lovely," declared mrs. hennesy, as miss billy began culling with a generous hand. "an' thim ould fashioned hollyhocks, as sassy as you plaze. another summer an' i'll be havin' some fer mesilf." "you may have slips and seeds from all my plants," responded miss billy generously, "and john thomas could easily bring the dirt." mrs. hennesy shook her head doubtfully. "it's wades i'd be after raisin'," she protested. "sure an' flowers don't be growin' fer ivery wan loike they do fer you." "weeds!" miss billy took up the words dolefully. "mrs. hennesy, weeds are making my existence miserable. look at my hands from keeping the weeds down. but it's no use,--look there!" she pointed as she spoke, up and down cherry street, and mrs. hennesy's following glance took in a long vista of rank vegetation flanking every sidewalk and dooryard, weeds great and small, broad and feathery, tall and diminutive, flaunting their rank growth in the hot sunshine. "well, thim's not all yours," said mrs. hennesy consolingly. "there's none in your yard, so ye needn't care." "oh, but i see them, and i hate them so!" said miss billy despairingly. "and the seeds are beginning to blow over here. the plantain and dandelions are killing my new grass already." "well, wheriver there's good, there's bad," said mrs. hennesy philosophically: "an' if the good stopped tryin' an' quit what w'ud become of the world, i'd loike to know? hould fast to yer flowers, miss billy, an' remimber whereiver wan of thim grows a weed can't," with which comforting advice the kind-hearted mrs. hennesy, holding fast to marie jean's bouquet and the borrowed cup of tea, took her departure. the setting of the sun brought relief to cherry street. every tiny porch held its household group, and the clear moonlight and cool breeze brought recompense for the glare and toil of the day. by degrees the noisy laughter and outcries of children waned and ceased, the murmured talk of their elders died away, and the street was wrapped in slumber. it was then miss billy came softly from her room, clad in a flowing wrapper. she listened longest at theodore's door, till, satisfied by his heavy breathing that he slept, she descended the stairs and stepped out into the moonlight. mingled with the perfume of her roses came the rank breath of the weeds, bringing malarial poisons to the sleepers of cherry street. mrs. hennesy's words came uppermost in her mind. "wherever there's good, there's bad,--and if the good stopped trying, what would become of the world?" "well, i'm going to help all i can, and i'm going to commence on mr. schultzsky's premises." she caught up a sickle, crossed the sidewalk jubilantly, and bumped into another pale wraith, sickle in hand, who straightened himself suddenly from the o'brien weeds. "john thomas hennesy!" she exclaimed. "how you frightened me! what are you doing out here at this time of night?" john thomas wiped the honest drops of toil from his brow and regarded her sickle suspiciously. "i'm cutting weeds. i've cut our own and now i'm cutting canary's. what are you going to do, i'd like to know?" "i'm going to cut mr. schultzsky's," said miss billy, in a gay stage whisper. "no,--not a word, john thomas,--i want the satisfaction of laying those weeds low myself." "well if she ain't a reg'lar brick!" said john thomas admiringly, as the swish of her sickle came across the street to his ears. "catch mary jane taking a sickle in her lily white hand to----" the rest of his sentence was lost in the sound of his own sickle as it played dexterously among the o'brien weeds. there were other ears than john thomas's on which fell the swish of miss billy's keen blade that night. two eyes peered down from an open window of the schultzsky house on a girl kneeling in the very dooryard. a girl who might have been mistaken for a saving angel with the moonlight on her wavy hair and flowing gown. a girl who attacked the weeds in a very fury of resentment, and scattered their rank growth in every direction. the eyes peered and peered, and then withdrew,--but gave no sign. it was ten o'clock the next morning when miss billy came sleepily down to her breakfast. theodore met her with suspicion lurking in his eye, but sang carelessly: "the lark is up to meet the sun,-- the bee is on the wing: the ant its labours has begun---- "say sis, who cut all those weeds last night?" "theodore," said miss billy pathetically, with a nervous sense of aching muscles, and a weariness on which his raillery grated, "is there any breakfast?" "there is," said theodore; "i couldn't half eat mine, i was so excited. i've been bursting to tell you the news for two hours. guess, sis, what's happened?" "what?" said miss billy, looking apprehensive. that it was something portentous she knew from theodore's manner. "mr. schultzskyczarovitch fell through the rotten planks of our sidewalk this morning at eight o'clock, and broke his leg, even as you wished." "oh," said miss billy faintly, and then for no reason at all collapsed in a little heap to the carpet. chapter xii little red riding hood "will you please to go away? that is all i have to say." mrs. canary was, literally speaking, behind the times. the weekly edition of that romantic sheet, the _household times_, had just arrived, and the mistress of the house had been unable to resist the temptation to "lose herself" in its crackling folds for a few minutes. it was sunday morning, and the sabbath to the canary family meant the dressing of five children for attendance at a house of worship. there was a strong odour of soap and sanctity about the little home, but the mother was reading aloud, totally oblivious to the noise and confusion surrounding her: "si-lunce reigned in the great hall as the duke faced his quack-ing vik-tum. the res-o-lute blood of his dough-ty ancest-ers shone in his deep eyes. 'i little expect-ed this of you, phil-lup,' he said at last. the cring-ing slave fell abjeck-ly at his feet, without a word. the calm un-im-passioned voice per-ceeded. 'fate has played you a sorry trick,' it said. "the man gru-vel-ing at his feet made no reply, but the duke's keen eye caught the gleam of a shining blade. 'traitor, mis-cre-ant,' he hissed, 'would you play me false in my own hall?' and he fell upon the fiendish form." from the duke's hall to the canary kitchen was only a step. in the latter place the long-suffering holly belle was having a discussion with fridoline as to the merits of church-going for the rising generation. fridoline was determined of chin, and fiery of disposition, and at the early age of seven had conceived a violent aversion to the ritual of faith, and the proper observance of the sabbath. the following patient monologue floated through the half-closed door: "oh, yes you will, fridoline. every one goes to sunday school.... here's the blacking all ready for you.... no, you can't wash first. what's the use of getting clean and then gauming yourself all up agin?... black the _heels_ of the shoes. yes, they do show, too.... no, friddie dear, please don't put on that clean collar until you wash your neck. let me help you wash.... well, i won't, if you don't want me to, but you are never pertic'ler about the edges, you know you ain't.... stop brushing mike's hair with that blacking brush!... friddie, i'll tell ma!... no, your neck ain't clean, an' your ears are a sight. let me take that rag a minute. no, i won't get your coat collar wet.... don't work your face that way, friddie; it can't be as stiff as that.... well, don't _open_ your mouth, _then_ you won't taste it.... stop hitting my elbow.... fridoline canary!... i hate to tell on you, but if you don't stop i will.... ma, make friddie stop!" mrs. canary, putting her forefinger between the pages of the duke's history, came to the doorway and looked in,--the picture of grieved amazement. "why, fridoline," she exclaimed. "why do you hurt that loving sister of yours? elbows is tender in ladies. holly belle, i wouldn't be too pertic'ler about the edges. he was washed good last wednesday." "sh'd say i was," growled fridoline, looking vengefully at his sister. "they's no need of making me as wet as wash-day agin. holly belle's too doggoned clean." "ye look as shiny as a new mirror," said his mother proudly. "there's nothing like ivory soap for bringing out all there is in a man. you look every inch a policeman's son. now your uncle weatherby, who holds a government position at washington, d.c.----" "do i have to go to sunday school, ma?" whined fridoline. "don't interrupt, friddie dear," said his mother mildly. "you put me all out of mind of what i was goin' to say. certainly you do have to go to sabbath school. i ain't goin' to have it said that i ever let circumstances interfere with religion." "i hate sunday school," complained fridoline; "i don't get no good going." "oh, yes you do, son," encouraged his mother. "you learn lots. didn't you get promoted from primary to secondary less'n a month ago?" "yes," growled the boy, "en the only difference is that ye put a nickel in the collection instead of a cent. i'm goin' to be changed back agin." "no, ye ain't," said his mother decidedly. "you get that church down on ye, and ye'll miss the sunday school picnic. but i'll tell ye what ye can do, friddie. after the picnic ye can all make a change and go to mr. lee's church. the weatherbys have always been baptists, but out of compliment to mr. lee i'm willin' to let you change. he's been so nice and neighbourly that i think he's deserved it. we won't say nothing about it, and some fine day we'll surprise him by five shinin' faces increasing his aujence." the idea of a picnic and a surprise facilitated the dressing, and a half hour more saw the departure of the five canarys in all the splendour of cleanliness and handed-down clothes. mrs. canary, standing in the doorway, viewed them with pride. "now mind yerselves," was her parting instruction. "ye look like a little herd of white doves, and see that ye act so. holly belle, don't forget to lend mikey your handkerchief when necessary. and conduct yerselves right during divine services." "there goes miss billy," she added to herself, as her own little brood rounded the corner. "as chipper as a sparrer, an' a-carryin' something to the needy, i should judge by that haverland chiny dish in her hand. land o' love! she's turnin' into old man's schultzsky's!" * * * * * a pudgy little maiden in a large rocking chair sat swinging back and forth upon mr. schultzsky's dilapidated porch as miss billy approached. the stolid bohemian face was neutralised by the effect of two blonde pig-tails, which were braided so tightly as to give her a scared and hunted expression. she looked more frightened than ever as the visitor ascended the rickety steps. "good-morning!" said miss billy. the little girl stopped the motion of the chair and stared at the newcomer. "this is a nice place to sit." the little girl's eyes grew rounder, but she made no reply. "does mr. schultzsky live here?" went on miss billy. the child caught the familiar name, and nodded. "is he in bed?" "ja ne rozumim," said the little maid. "do you suppose he would see me?" "ja ne rozumim." "goodness!" said miss billy to herself. "this is worse than taking the census. i wonder what language the child is talking. i'm sure it's not german or french or latin or greek. i might try her on hog-latin. i never saw a child who couldn't understand that. may--i--see--mr.--schultzsky?" she persisted in the loud and emphatic way that one always uses with a foreigner. the little girl stared at her in a frightened way. "mr. schultzsky? in?" asked miss billy desperately. the child looked about her with a hunted and terrified expression. then she rose from her rocking chair, and backed hastily down the steps, keeping a safe distance between herself and the caller. "ja ne rozumim," she gasped, and disappeared around the house. miss billy turned to the door. she looked about for a bell, but finding none, rapped upon the unpainted panel. there was no answer. a second knock only brought an echo which reverberated through the shell of the house. she hesitated a moment, and then stepping timidly inside, found herself in a tiny box of a hallway which seemed to extend from the front door to the back. two doors opened into the hall and miss billy paused irresolutely at one. a sound of heavy breathing came from within, and she knocked lightly. "come in," growled the voice of mr. schultzsky, and miss billy entered. the inside of the house proved even more uninviting than the outside. the room was small and low, with broken plastering, and soiled hemp carpet on the floor. the only window was closed, and the ragged green shade drawn tightly down. a musty odour, as of ancient food and air, pervaded everything. on a narrow bed in the corner lay mr. schultzsky with a ragged blanket drawn up over his head to exclude even the faint light. over the foot board dangled three flat irons at the end of a rope--an improvised weight for the injured leg. miss billy caught her breath at the sight. mr. schultzsky evidently heard the sigh. he threw his arms out uneasily, but his head remained in eclipse. his muffled voice came from beneath the blanket: "chvatej, johanna, ja mam hlat." miss billy started to speak, but mr. schultzsky interrupted. "get me something to eat. quick," he ordered. the first sentence was unintelligible to miss billy, but the command was clear. a wild plan of propitiating the old man seized her. she turned to the hall without a word. the small room adjoining was evidently the kitchen, for a rusty stove stood at one side, and a few shabby dishes were ranged in a cupboard on the other. a half loaf of bread, a piece of salt pork, and a cup partially filled with tea stood on a shelf. there was no other food in sight. the fire had burned low, but miss billy poked the coals together and added some fuel. "ne davej vec nes jeden," called a muffled voice from the next room. "he's probably advising me to save on fuel," thought miss billy, little guessing how nearly she had arrived at the truth. she filled the tea-kettle, set it over the blaze, cut a slice of bread, and found a fork. the soup, which she had brought with her, she poured into a tin pan and set on the stove to re-heat. then she looked about for serving utensils. there was no tray or napkin to be seen, but she covered the bread board with the fringed doily that had accompanied the soup. as she stepped lightly about her work her spirits rose higher than they had since the news of the landlord's accident. she hugged to herself the grim retribution she was receiving as she scorched her face, as well as the bread, over the coals. "i can forgive myself, if he forgives me," she thought. there was no butter or milk in the cupboard, and the tableware seemed to be in all stages of decrepitude. the haviland bowl looked most incongruous in company with the cracked cups and plates on the tray, but miss billy was forced to be content. she covered the stove, and turned the drafts in a way she felt sure mr. schultzsky would approve, and then, leaving the improvised tray on the shelf, with fear and trembling approached the door of the bedroom. the old man seemed to be asleep. fearful of disturbing him, miss billy stood hesitating in the doorway. then she cautiously opened the window, and pulled up the shade a few inches. the light showed a dirty room in a great state of disorder. on a chair beside the bed was an array of bottles, dishes, and the remains of a meal. old clothes were strewn about the floor, dust lay in great rolls everywhere, and the cobwebs under the bed had only been disturbed by the motley pile of shoes and clothing which was thrust underneath. a broken harness was suspended from a hook on one side of the room, and on the opposite wall, crooked and high, hung the picture of a beautiful woman. miss billy went quietly to work to remedy things. she hung up the clothes that littered the place, and arranged the medicine bottles. just as she was debating with herself as to the advisability of rousing the invalid, the old man moved painfully. "are you coming, johanna? hurry up," he called from beneath the bed clothes. miss billy made haste to obey. she brought the tray from the kitchen, and quietly approached the bedside. mr. schultzsky lifted the blanket from his face. he looked greyer and older than ever, his hair was matted and towsled, and in the dim light he was a ghostly and forbidding object. even bold miss billy's hands shook as she helped to raise him, and prop him a few inches higher with a pillow. as she took up the tray again the old man glanced at her for the first time. instead of the stolid bohemian face he had been expecting to see, miss billy's sunny grey eyes, more tender and earnest than usual, looked down into his stony grey ones. there was a moment's silence in the room. then mr. schultzsky spoke: "who are you?" he said. [illustration: "who are you?" he said.] "don't you know?" answered the girl. "i'm miss billy--wilhelmina lee--the girl at no. . i came to see if there was anything i could do for you." "huh," growled the man. the syllable seemed to be forced through his set teeth. miss billy, trembling inwardly, went on bravely with her recital:--"don't you remember? you fell on our sidewalk. it was that day when you wouldn't do anything about the repairs, and i went out to try to mend it myself. and oh, mr. schultzsky, i said i hoped you'd fall through the rotten planks! i was only half in earnest, you know, but you _did_ come along and fall. and i feel as though it were my fault. i'm so sorry--so very sorry." her voice faltered. the old man looked at her unwinkingly. "go away," he said. "but you'll let me help you," entreated the girl, bringing the chair nearer to the side of the bed. "go away," repeated the old man. "i can't go away and leave you in this condition," pleaded miss billy, bent on restitution. mr. schultzsky tried to raise himself from the pillow, but fell back with a groan. he regarded her vindictively, and his face was more sinister than ever as he repeated savagely--"go away! go away!" miss billy set down the tray on the chair and withdrew quickly. the burning tears filled her eyes as she felt her way along to the gate. "he was cruel," she said bitterly to herself. "i didn't deserve it." a calmer mood took possession of her before she reached the door of her home. "well, he didn't strike me," she said stoutly. "and i know i did my duty. but i shan't try to make friends with him again, and i shall never never let ted hear of this." but her brother's quick wits had already anticipated and made ready for her home coming. as she flung off her hat, and threw herself into the big chair in the study, the sermon board thrust a black and white message before her eyes. it had been empty when she left the house. now it bore a rude sketch of a nondescript animal, a cross between a bear and a wolf, arrayed in a huge night cap. an unmistakable little red riding hood stood at the side of the beast. and below was scrawled in theodore's hand: some bears have got two legs, and some have got more; be lessons right severe, if they've two legs or four! chapter xiii hard lines "though losses, and crosses, be lessons right severe--, there's wit there, ye'll get there, ye'll find nae other where." "brown's sodas are the best in town, if they do come high,--and the girls know it," miss billy had jeered a few weeks before. theodore repeated the words now with a wholly sober grimace, as he scrambled into his clothes at half past six of an early july morning. vacation had brought him a permanent position in the drug store, at four dollars a week, but the skeleton still walked. it was not a very hideous skeleton, to be sure,--just a half dozen or so of remarkably round and robust young misses,--but it had a prodigious appetite for the confection known as ice-cream soda, and it never happened to have any money of its own. theodore, red in the face from the growing heat and his hurried exertions, frowningly continued his unpleasant reflections. "there are two or three of those girls that have treated me contemptibly of late,--probably because i no longer live in a fourteen-room house. that myrtle blanchard is a notable example. she scarcely takes the trouble to see me on the street, but she manages to get around to the soda fountain every day, either alone, or with the crowd of girls." he was lacing his shoes now, and another side of the subject presented itself. "these are the shoes i vowed to buy with my own earnings, or go without. father bought them. i've learned to crow before my tail feathers have grown enough to tell whether i'm going to be a brahma rooster or a bantam hen. well, i'm through cackling now: anyway, till i get rid of those girls, and save some money. then i'll have something to cackle over." he swung down to breakfast, taking time to eat only his "bale of hay"--the shredded wheat biscuit the faithful maggie put before him,--and hurried off to work. at the gate he encountered john thomas hennesy, going his way, with a broken bridle in his hand. "mornin'," said john thomas cheerfully. "good-morning," returned theodore. "going my way? then you'll have to keep up with my stride. i'm late this morning." "workin' at brown's steady now, ain't yer?" inquired john thomas, with friendly curiosity. "much in it?" "four dollars a week as a starter," said theodore, firmly pressing the skeleton back into its closet. "it's easy work, and they are beginning to give me a little collecting and bookkeeping of late." john thomas gave his companion a covert stare that took in the neat blue serge suit and immaculate tie, the jaunty straw hat and well-polished shoes. he noted that theodore's eyes were grey like miss billy's, and his teeth were white. then he shoved his own stubby hands into his pockets, and lapsed into silence. grudgingly to himself he admitted that theodore was a "swell." he had soft hands, and clean finger nails, and white teeth. he polished his shoes every day, wore stand-up collars through the hot weather, and liked easy jobs. john thomas's chin squared itself into the bulldog pattern of his father's, and his hands shut tight in his pockets. there was miss billy now. she and theodore were as alike in looks as two peas. but miss billy was no swell. her teeth and nails were awful clean, too,--but then, she was a girl,--and _she_ liked work. she'd do anything,--even if she had clean hands, and finger nails, and---- john thomas was measuring the length of his stubby legs with theodore's long swinging stride. "driving team for your father, this vacation, aren't you?" inquired theodore, in turn. "pretty hot in the sun, isn't it?" "it's hot,--yes," admitted john thomas, the bulldog chin slowly melting under the friendly glance of the grey eyes,--"but its good pay,--a dollar a day, and the day's work over at six o'clock." theodore repressed a whistle. "why, you'll save money, john thomas, if the job lasts all summer." "it'll last all summer, all right, and longer too. father's got more work than he can attend to. he's bought another team and he's going to hire another man to drive it. i worked for father all last summer, and i've got sixty dollars saved in the bank now. i'll make it a hundred before school commences in september." it was theodore, now, whose critical glance took in john thomas,--a sturdy square-set figure, with baggy trousers and rusty shoes, the true hennesy freckles and turned-up nose,--offset by keen blue eyes and the resolute chin. "he's a man!" thought theodore. "he's neither afraid or ashamed of honest work,--and he saves his money, too. i wonder what he'd do in my place now, if he had a crowd of girls to treat every day with his hard earnings?" but it was difficult to imagine the figure at his side presiding at a soda fountain, and handing out refreshment to a bevy of young beauties, so theodore gave it up with a sigh. john thomas, unpleasantly aware of the scrutiny, bore it unflinchingly, but his chin squared itself again, and he thought, "he's a tenderfoot, that's what he is. he never had dirty hands in his life. i guess he's wonderin' who my tailor is." when theodore reached the store he changed his coat for a linen one, dusted the counters, lifted the ice into the soda fountain, and gave all the glasses and spoons an extra polish. the recollection of john thomas lingered with him, together with the sixty dollars in the bank which would be one hundred by september. "i'm in a false position," he thought angrily. "i'm making those girls believe i have all the money i want, and other people believe i'm an industrious and deserving young man. i'd change jobs with john thomas hennesy in a hurry if i could." the day was very warm, and by nine o'clock the soda water trade was brisk. myrtle blanchard was one of the early callers. she was a miss of fashion, like her older sisters, and aptly imitated their mincing ways. "oh, isn't it just too dreadfully warm?" she gasped, fanning herself with her lace handkerchief and sinking onto one of the stools. "i really couldn't have gone another step without resting, if i had been paid for it." "it's hot," acquiesced theodore, preparing a glass of orange phosphate for another customer. "mr. brown," he called over to the proprietor, who was sitting at the desk, "do you want me to collect that bill i was told to call for this morning?" "yes," answered mr. brown, "you'd better go right away. we've had to wait long enough for that money. frank, you take theodore's place at the fountain." miss myrtle's face assumed a look of hauteur. she was not accustomed to being pushed aside, even for business. but she hastened to say, "oh, i am so warm! i believe i'll have a cherry phosphate. i came away without my purse this morning, but please don't charge such a small amount to papa." theodore prepared the phosphate and placed it before her. his eyes took on the steady, level expression that miss billy's habitually wore, but his voice was cool and bland as he said aloud, "frank, please make a charge against miss myrtle blanchard,--one phosphate, ten cents." the other customers gazed in astonishment at this unheard of publicity in entering a charge. miss myrtle turned from pink to crimson, and slowly back to pink,--but she philosophically concluded to drink her phosphate and think the matter out afterward. theodore, meantime, had taken his hat, and getting the bill and some change from mr. brown, left the store. "the mean thing!" inwardly raged miss myrtle. "he meant that for a snub,--i know he did. and he never so much as glanced at me as he went out. just wait! i'll get even with him." out in the hot sunshine theodore's other conscience was accusing him. "it's a mean thing to use a girl that way! but if it has to be done, i'm glad myrtle blanchard got it first. yet it's all my own fault! if i hadn't treated them at the first, they wouldn't have come to expect it. but i feel as mean as a cur that's stolen another cur's bone." a walk of half a mile brought theodore to a handsome house in a fashionable street. he ascended the steps, touched the bell, and heard a voice on the inside distinctly say, "if that's that boy from brown's, nora, tell him i'm not at home." the door opened and a maid in a white cap glibly repeated the message: "mrs. thorpe isn't at home this morning. won't you call again?" "she expects me this morning," said theodore, firmly,--"so with your permission, i'll wait." as he spoke, he entered and seated himself in the reception hall. "she may not be home to luncheon," faltered the maid. "if you could----" "my time is my own," interrupted theodore. "mrs. thorpe expected me, so i'll wait." there was a rustle of skirts above, and a whispered consultation. in fifteen minutes' time mrs. thorpe descended the stairs, looking cool and beautiful in a pale blue silken wrapper. "the maid was quite mistaken," she asserted sweetly. "i was taking a little rest, and she thought i had gone out. oh, yes,--you have that bill. how troublesome for you to have had the long walk for so small an amount! fifteen dollars, is it? please receipt the bill. and you have change there! may i trouble you to change this five-dollar bill for me, as well?" theodore tucked the fifteen dollars, three crisp notes, into his pocket, with satisfaction, and receipted the bill for the silken lady. then he counted out to her five dollars in change, and taking his hat, bowed himself out. he was flushed with pride at having outwitted the notorious mrs. thorpe. the other clerks at the store had tried innumerable times to collect this bill. he hurried over the hot pavements toward the store, the success of this undertaking driving myrtle blanchard and the other girls, for the time, from his mind. mr. brown was still at the desk when he reached the store. he handed in the three bills with conscious triumph. "and the five dollars in change, i gave you?" suggested mr. brown pleasantly. "oh, i exchanged that for----" he stopped suddenly, with a startled air. he had given mrs. thorpe the five dollars in silver, but she had given him no bill in return. he remembered now, distinctly. he was perfectly sure. "you may have lost it," corrected mr. brown gravely. "you must be careful not to attribute its loss to mrs. thorpe. she is one of our wealthiest customers. however, you may go back and inquire." mrs. thorpe rustled down at theodore's second summons. certainly, she had given him the bill! he had probably lost it on the street. then she rustled upstairs again, and nora, the maid, showed him out. the brick buildings that radiated the heat, and the dusty streets with their clanging cars, swam before his tired and angry eyes. "a woman that would lie, might steal," he reflected fiercely. "mrs. thorpe has that five-dollar bill, together with the change i gave her, in her purse!" he took his way back, in helpless anger and misery, to the store, and reported once more at the desk. "no," said mr. brown. "i didn't think mrs. thorpe had it. you must be extremely careful what you say. you have either carelessly lost it, or----" "or what?" demanded theodore angrily. mr. brown flushed in return. "i have noticed since you have been in my employ," he said coldly, "that you have extravagant habits, as well as extravagant friends. it is the shortest road to dishonesty, although i make no accusations. of course you will make this loss good. is there any money coming to you?" "very little. what was coming to me i drew saturday night," said theodore, the colour all gone from his face. "mr. brown, you are doing me an injustice. i _was_ extremely careless. it is right that i should return the money because of that carelessness. but i am honest, and i have been taught to be truthful. i beg you to believe me when i say that the money is, knowingly or unknowingly, with mrs. thorpe. i distinctly remember that she did not give me the bill." mr. brown's voice was like ice: "i do not wish to have any more discussion of the matter. the money will be charged to your father until you repay its loss. you may go to dinner." mr. hennesy and john thomas, seated on a little hillock of dirt, were eating their dinner from a bountifully filled dinner pail, when a noontide visitor strode in upon them. the horses looked mildly up from their improvised feed boxes upon theodore, who, reckless of the polished shoes and blue serge suit, seated himself upon another hillock in their midst. "mr. hennesy," he said, coming straight to the point, "have you hired a man yet, to drive that new team you've bought?" "well," said mr. hennesy warily, and confining his gaze to a generous crescent his teeth had described in a quarter of an apple pie, "there's a red-headed man that's been afther the job, an' there's another that's as bald as an acorn----" "if you'll give it to me," broke in theodore, "i'll do my best to please you, and i'll work cheaper than a man. i have handled horses before. try me for a week, mr. hennesy, and if i don't give satisfaction you needn't pay me a cent, and there will be no hard feeling." mr. hennesy's first shock of surprise expanded slowly into a grin. john thomas's eyes were like saucers. "why-ee--" gurgled mr. hennesy, "ye'd burn the shkin all off av yer nose, an' tan yer neck, an' blishter yer han's so yer own mother wouldn't be afther knowin' ye. ye couldn't niver----" "come now, mr. hennesy," said theodore, rising abruptly, "if i look like a fool, i assure you i'm not one. will you give me the chance?" mr. hennesy's grin vanished, and his chin squared. "thot i will!" he said, extending his hand cordially. "ye can go to work in the mornin'. but moind me,--ye'll do yer full dhuty, or ye'll git fired!" theodore was gone, as suddenly as he had come, and john thomas still sat, the picture of helpless surprise. "well--i'll--be blowed!" he ejaculated, at last. "i wouldn't have thought it of him. he looked too good to spoil his hands. somethin' must have gone wrong at the drug store." "which same ye'll not be mintionin' to him, john thomas," said mr. hennesy, with the true instincts of a gentleman. "as if i would!" returned john thomas scornfully. dinner was over, and miss billy was out weeding the pansy bed when her brother reached home. the long walk from the outskirts of the town where mr. hennesy was working, and the noontide heat of the day, had failed to bring the colour back to his pale face. he seemed to have grown taller, and older, in a single morning. miss billy, looking up from her flowers, instantly read the trouble in his face, and sprang to her feet. "wilhelmina," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder and looking down into her face (it was the first time in his life he had called her that), "i've got to borrow your christmas gold piece. i never thought i'd come down so low, but,--well, i have! i'm in trouble, and i've got to have it to square myself." "is that all?" cried miss billy, brightening. "it can't be a very great trouble that that paltry gold piece can drive away. and i'm so glad to let you have it, ted." "no,--that's not all," went on theodore, in a hard voice. "mr. brown thinks i'm a sneak, if not a thief!--and i've quit my job. don't tell father and mother,--not yet, i mean." "theodore!" there was anguish in miss billy's tones that brought the tears for the first time to theodore's eyes. "but i've hired out to mr. hennesy to drive a team, and start to work in the morning." "brother, you _can't_ do that!" miss billy, in spite of herself, was crying now. "do you remember," said theodore, "we were reading the other day that a man is as great--not as his father's money, or his grandfather's name, but as the force within himself? miss billy, i have force enough to drive mr. hennesy's team, and stick to it! inasmuch as that, i am a man." miss billy looked up, overawed. laziness, heedlessness, vanity, had dropped away as a mantle, and from the steady grey eyes looked the serious spirit of a man. like a rainbow of promise, miss billy smiled through her tears. "theodore lee," she said, wiping the last drop off her nose, "theodore lee, i'm proud of you!" chapter xiv two letters "princess, to you the western breeze bears many a ship and heavy laden; what is the best we send in these? a free and frank young yankee maiden." "cologne, germany. "_dear miss billikins_: "prepare to clap your hands and chortle with joy! in six weeks and two days more i shall be at home with you! perhaps i am a trifle conceited to think that you will be as delighted over the prospect as i am. "even my grief at leaving my beloved germany is drowned in joy at the thought of being home again; and when i see papa and mamma's dear faces i shall be the happiest girl this side of the atlantic. after all, there is no place like america, and no people like the americans. "in proof of which, i can a tale unfold--a tale, miss billy, which will make your blood stand on end and your hair run cold in your veins. i have had an adventure that brought the tears of shame and contrition to my eyes, and which will bring the tears of sympathy to yours. get out your largest and most absorbent handkerchief and prepare to listen. "it rained yesterday,--not one of the mild english drizzles, but a regular american downpour that lasted all day. about four o'clock i put my music aside and went downstairs, with the intention of taking a stroll, or more literally, a swim. frau henich held up her hands in holy horror at the sight of my costume, which was a combination of bathing suit and bicycle skirt. "will the bold fräulein venture out in such wetness? "the bold fräulein would. "did she not fear the dampness? "the fräulein adored dampness. "was there no message that could be sent? "the fräulein had no message. she was going out for her pleasure. "frau henich looked at me in pity and amazement. generally she considers me erratic, but on occasions of this sort she knows i am unbalanced. as i closed the door i could feel that she was still wondering in which branch of my family insanity was rampant. now there is a certain tiny store in cologne which i intend to buy out some day. it is a most fascinating place, with the windows full of gay knit garters, and hideous pictures of the saints, and dried herrings, and with funny little reward-of-merit-cards and work-boxes tucked away in dark corners. "of course none of these things are exactly in my line, but the mistress of the house sells a delicious little german cake that is my especial delight. whenever my music lessons go badly or i fail to get a letter from home, i comfort myself with a bag of these little 'pfeffernes.' "on this rainy day the shop was even more inviting than usual. it was brightly lighted with three candles, a big pussy cat was purring on the mat, and there was an odour of hot gingerbread in the air. my long walk had made me hungry, and i recklessly ordered two dozen cakes, a square of the frosted gingerbread, and a little pail of sauerkraut which tasted and smelled very german indeed. it was dark outside, so i didn't stay to practise my german on the rosy-faced woman behind the counter, but took my bundles hurriedly. i paddled out, leaving a long stream of green water in my wake--(the colour in my green umbrella has 'run' as you predicted)--and faced the storm. "the long narrow street was deserted, and i sprinted along making good time, though my feet were soaking wet and i could feel the water gurgle in my shoes at every step. as i started across a muddy street within two blocks of frau henich's, a sudden gust of wind blew my umbrella inside out. i righted it by facing about and holding it against the wind. then clutching my bundles a little tighter, and still treading determinedly backwards, i bumped forcibly into a man who was coming towards me. the result was what might have been expected. we sat down in the street. the gingerbread went into his lap, the cakes fell about me like stars from a rocket, and from what i could see in the dusk the kraut seemed to be equally divided between us. we both sat perfectly still for a moment. then six feet of masculinity arose from the mud, with the sound of a suction pump, and approached me, with the air of a count. 'are you hurt, fräulein?' he inquired, in irreproachable german that made me green with envy. i felt of myself in the cleanest places and decided that i was not. he helped me up with difficulty, for the mud had a strong attraction for me, too, and i feebly began to collect my thoughts, and my cakes, and to look about for my umbrella. "by this time my companion in misery had a beautiful un-german-like apology ready for me, and proposed that we move on, and repair damages by the street lamp. i replied, in very bad german, that my boarding-place was just around the corner, and that i would prefer to remove the signs of our collision at home. he graciously acceded to my humble request, and crossed the street with me, holding the remains of my umbrella over my head. when we reached the lamp i could fully appreciate the humour of the situation. the aristocratic chest of the count was plastered with white frosting, his hat was caved in, and his noble face was covered with spatters of mud. my skirt dripped mud and water at each step, my hands were gloved with honest german soil, and my hair fell over my face in degraded little stringlets. we both fairly reeked with kraut. but the count, courteously oblivious to our picturesque and barbaric appearance, walked by my side, with that skeleton of an umbrella gallantly protecting the remains of my knox hat, and discoursing cheerfully upon the vagaries of the german climate. naturally my answers were not so teeming with wisdom as usual, for i was fairly overcome with suppressed emotion and mud. beside, i am awfully stupid about languages, and all the german i have learned since i have been here would rattle if it were shaken about in a peanut shell. if he had asked me about the lamb of the daughter of the gardener, or the pink frock of my sister's child, i could have conversed fluently; but as it was i maintained a dignified silence and let him think that i was a modest little german mädchen. "his good manners lasted the whole two blocks, and he handed me in at frau henich's door with the air of king cophetua, though i did think i caught a twinkle of fun in his eyes as he said 'gute nacht, fräulein. es ist immer der amerikaner der die deutschen länder bekommt.' "fräulein henich has much to say of the gracious herr, who came to my rescue so nobly. it seems after all that he is no count, just an american student, as she expresses it touring germany,--'but so amiable in manner, so hard in the working, and so good to the children.' he boards across the street with her good friend frau heller, and i have often seen a young man, answering to his description, frolicking with the six flaxen-headed heller cherubs. but, to me he will always be known as the count. my introduction to him is also my farewell, for he leaves to-morrow--whither i know not--and alas, i shall see him no more! still, he has served his purpose in furnishing me with many a recent chuckle, and material for what otherwise would have been a most stupid letter to you. musical students never have any brains left for letters, and nothing to write about. maybe i won't have enough things to _tell_ you about, my dear, in six weeks and two days more! "lots of love from "peggy." miss billy laid down the closely written sheets of foreign paper, and drew a long sigh of pleasure. six weeks more! perhaps no one knew just what the end of the six weeks meant to miss billy. even the cheeriest and happiest of us all have our dark days, and the fact that our friends do not suspect them, makes the days none the less hard to bear. miss billy's interest in her new surroundings, and her bravery in her changed circumstances had not prevented many a heart-ache and longing for the old life. girls are merciless aristocrats, and many of miss billy's old friends had wounded her with careless speeches, or rude actions, since the old life had ended. the covert sneers, the uplifted eyebrows, the small snubs that so often crushed beatrice in these days of stern economy, had touched miss billy's sensitive soul; and though she was brave enough to rise above them, they were not easy to bear. but after margaret came,--dear loyal peggy, so leal and true--whom changed circumstances only made nearer and dearer,--miss billy felt that she could face the world and "the girls" with courage, as well as independence, and she yearned for her friend with all the strength of her young soul. and on the heels of this joyful letter came another delightful surprise. it was an overture of peace, and the carrier dove was aaron levi. the olive branch he bore was a message to the effect that "ol' man schultzsky" wanted to see miss billy "to wunst." "what can he want of me?" thought the girl, hurrying out of the door in a state of high excitement. "it must be that he wants something done; if that's the case, perhaps he's not so awfully mad at me, after all." she crossed the street, and went quickly up to mr. schultzsky's door. the little bohemian maid, who was rocking on the front porch, rose up uncertainly and fled around the house at her approach. miss billy entered without the ceremony of rapping, and made her way to the room in which she had found mr. schultzsky before. in appearance it was the same dark mildewed room of two weeks before, with the harness on the wall, and the picture of the beautiful woman hanging crookedly near the ceiling. in the half gloom she saw the old man still stretched on the hard bed with the weight of flatirons attached to his foot. his face in its gauntness and pallor showed the suffering he had endured; but the sunken eyes were bright, and he displayed his eagerness in the gesture with which he motioned her to the chair by his side. "i vant you to write a letter," he began in a weak voice. "it comes to me in the night if i haf no one to do for me i vill not soon get vell. johanna is a child. she can speak not the english; she can order not the food. she can do nothing but rock herself in the chair and cry. open the drawer in the table, and take the paper and ink. it is to my niece's oldest child--the letter." not without trembling, because of her proximity to the strange old man, miss billy obeyed. "i am ready, mr. schultzsky," she announced. the old man fell to pondering. "to frances lindsay, my niece's child," he began at last. "i am in much trouble that my leg is broke and i cannot mofe. it is such warm weather, and such pain, i cannot get well unless you come by me. "i will pay it when you come, which you should do right away. "your affectionate uncle, "abraham schultzsky." "is that all?" asked miss billy, as the dictation ceased. "yes," said the old man wearily. "the street number is on a piece of paper in the drawer. that's right." he closed his eyes, but turned slightly as miss billy rose to go, and held out his hand. "you are a smart girl," he said. "i thank you for what you haf done for me." miss billy gave his hand a little squeeze in her excitement. "i've been so sorry, mr. schultzsky," she said softly. "can you ever, ever forgive me?" "it is nodding," responded mr. schultzsky shortly. "goot-day." miss billy, thus dismissed, sped home as one whose feet were shod with wings. "all is forgiven, blest be my soul," she hummed to herself as she made her way to the mail box. "i'm as happy as a lark. margaret's coming home, and mr. schultzsky has forgiven me. it's too much good luck for one day." she smiled happily as she dropped into the box the letter addressed to "miss frances lindsay, " east forty-fifth street, "new york." chapter xv "frances" "there were three ladies in a hall,-- with a heigh-ho and a lily gay: there came a lord among them all,-- as the primrose spreads so sweetly." it was hot, very hot, in cherry street. miss billy's garden bloomed as paradise, but up and down the alley household garbage bubbled and boiled in the sun. the sweet peas on the fence were a marvellous cloud of pink, violet, crimson, purple and white. they rioted over the hennesy pickets, and spread their fairy wings as if to descend on the other side;--but across the street mr. schultzsky's weeds flaunted in all the rank arrogance of a second crop. miss billy was disheartened, but not defeated. "of course i can't accomplish it all by myself," she thought, "and john thomas is too tired at night to help and theodore is working, too. but every child in the street that can handle a hoe shall be enlisted in the cause if i can accomplish it." she went over to mrs. canary's to talk the matter over, and found holly belle in a kitchen that easily registered degrees. mrs. canary was in bed with one of her "attacks," the twins, unwashed and sticky, were playing with a basket of potatoes on the floor: ginevra, the little sister, was grumblingly washing the breakfast dishes, while holly belle, with signs of recent tears around her eyelashes, was binding up a badly burned arm. "you see, there's bread-baking to-day," she said, as miss billy's deft fingers bound up the burn, "and maw's sick, and paw goes onto his beat at noon, and must have his dinner, and the twins are restless with the heat, and won't stay satisfied five minutes at a time with anything. the boys are off somewhere, and no good to anybody, and my own head aches so i can't hardly see. it aches all the time, now, anyway." "i should think it would," said miss billy sympathetically. "can't you let that fire go out? it's simply unbearable in here." "no," said holly belle, "the bread's in the oven, an' there's pork an' cabbage cooking. i've got to get the potatoes peeled right away, or dinner'll be late." miss billy reached for a kitchen apron that hung on a nail. "well, i'll bathe the babies," she said: "i think that will make them feel better. then i'll sweep up for you, and help with the dinner." "you're awful good," said holly belle simply. her eyes looked heavy, and her shoulders had a pathetic droop. "jinny, if yer through with the dishpan, give it to miss billy to wash the twins in, and then go down to the store and fetch a pound of butter." miss billy bathed the babies in a tiny pantry, away from the scorching blast of the cook stove, and clad them in clean, dark calico slips. ginevra came with the butter, and was despatched with the twins in their carriage to the shady north side of the lee house. order slowly evolved from chaos. the kitchen was swept, the pantry put to rights, and miss billy, crimson in the face, and with her collar quite wilted, was preparing to set the table. "don't you think--holly belle," she suggested, "that it might be better to move the table into the other room? it's much cooler in there." "we never have," answered holly belle dubiously. "we've always eat in the kitchen." "well, we'll try it this time, anyway,--and if your mother objects we'll not do it again. it's so hot in here, holly belle, it's positively dangerous! and as you can't take the stove out, it seems as though you would have to take yourselves out, that's all." "i've been thinking," she went on, as she went back and forth from the table to the pantry, "that instead of having the children in the neighbourhood spend every saturday morning with me, as they have been doing, i shall have them come every morning for two hours. that would help you, wouldn't it, holly belle? and i can just as well do it through the vacation. you could send the babies before nine, and i'd bathe them and be ready for the rest at nine o'clock. "this child-garden, holly belle, is going to resolve itself into an improvement club. every member who is old enough must pledge himself to one half-hour's service a day in keeping clean his own yard and alley, and the street in front of his house. the weeds must be kept down, the cesspools disinfected, and the garbage disposed of. then another half hour might be pledged to household duties,--such as washing and wiping dishes, bringing in wood, carrying water, and making beds. they'll all subscribe to the conditions, i know, for the sake of sharing in the pleasures of the child-garden." "launkelot and fridoline couldn't never wash and wipe dishes," said holly belle hopelessly. "they'd break them all up." "indeed they can, if they try," returned miss billy stoutly. "my brother theodore can wash and wipe dishes as deftly as a girl,--and he could do it at their age, too." "'twould be an awful help," mused holly belle, "and our yard an' alley is a sight to behold, but i ain't got no time to clean it." "of course you haven't. but you are doing noble work in this kitchen every day,--and taking care of those babies beside. it's noble work, holly belle." holly belle's lips quivered, and her tears fell. "i ain't like other girls," she sobbed. "i used to go to bed of nights an' dream i had a piano an' could play on it. an' when i'd wake up i'd be so disappointed it seemed to me i couldn't stand it. an' i used to go on hopin' and hopin' that i'd get one, an' learn, but i know it's too late now. i'm growin' on fourteen, already." miss billy, taking in all the pathos of the starved little life, found no words to reply. "but the thing that hurts worst," went on holly belle, wiping her tears on her apron, "is that i can't go to school. i had to stop when mikey was a baby, and then just as i got started again the twins came, and i guess i'll never go back. the teacher came to see maw, an' told her how quick i learned,--but it didn't do no good, an' i'll have to stay right here in this kitchen all the rest of my life." miss billy crossed over to the drooping little figure, and put her arm about her. "keep hoping, holly belle," she counselled: "keep hoping, and keep on trying. i'm sure it will all come out right. i have a solemn conviction that when one wishes hard enough for a thing, it comes to pass. and so i am sure the school days will come again, and the piano and the lessons, too." holly belle dried her tears. "you've made me feel almost sure of it, too," she said, with a smile. "i'm thankful for the help you've been to me with the work, miss billy,--and i'll send the children over in the morning." * * * * * it was that evening that theodore, freshly arrayed in the glory of blue serge and starched linen, drew miss billy into a secluded corner. his neck, even as mr. hennesy had predicted, was burned to a deep red, and the blisters on his hands were hardening into calloused spots,--but there was no self pity in his manner as he handed his sister a five dollar gold piece. "my first week's pay," he announced, proudly: "and thank you very much for the accommodation." "oh, i'd rather not take it now, ted," demurred miss billy. "wait until you've earned more." "no indeed," said theodore proudly. "next week i shall pay father for my shoes, and after that, every cent of my money goes into the bank. take it now, or never, miss billy." "well, i'll take it if i must, but i don't want to," grumbled his sister. "say ted, beatrice and i are going over to call on mr. schultzsky's niece, frances lindsay, this evening. mother saw her trunk arrive to-day, and thought we ought to. won't you go with us?" "no, i thank you," said theodore. "to tell the truth, i've soured on the society of ladies. but if she's handsome, and wealthy, and under thirty, i may relent and call upon her some other evening." "for my part, i think the idea of our going over there is ridiculous," scolded beatrice. "i wouldn't, if mother didn't insist upon it. it's more than likely she can speak only bohemian, as that other little niece does, and will run and hide upon our arrival." "well, we'll go, anyway," said miss billy. "mother is right. the girl will feel very strange and lonely in that old house, and if she can't speak english we can at least shake hands and then sit and smile at her." they took their way across the street, beatrice very dainty in her white dress with a rose low in her hair,--miss billy in a black dress skirt and white shirt-waist, with a severely masculine collar and tie. the front door stood ajar, and after tapping several times miss billy ushered herself in. "it's the only way," she declared, in reply to beatrice's horrified exclamation. "mr. schultzsky _can't_ let us in, that little bohemian girl _won't_ let us in, and under the circumstances, i suppose the new niece can't make up her mind what to do." there was the sound of a well-modulated masculine voice reading in mr. schultzsky's room. miss billy tapped gently, and the door was opened by a young man. in one swift glance she knew he was tall, with dark eyes and a ruddy skin, and wore glasses. "i beg your pardon," she faltered. "we have called to inquire for mr. schultzsky, and to call upon his niece, miss frances lindsay." in the next instant, too, she was sure the young man was well bred. he gave beatrice a chair, and turned on the student lamp without manifesting any embarrassment, while miss billy crossed to the old man's bedside, and extended her hand. "i hope you are better, mr. schultzsky," she said. "sister beatrice and i have come to call upon----" for some undefined reason the words died away, and she stood with glowing cheeks and paralysed tongue. "sit down," said mr. schultzsky, pointing to a chair at the bedside. the young man was regarding miss billy with open humour shining in his dark eyes. "i feel already acquainted with you, miss lee," he said, "as a good friend of my uncle's, and as a young lady who insists upon spelling my name 'ces.' _i_ am francis lindsay!" he was looking at beatrice now, whose face was the picture of shocked propriety and haughtiness. miss billy's wits returned. "it would be very funny," she thought, "if bea didn't take it so tragically. but he is not at all to blame. he has tact, and is kind. _i_ am the stupid one." then she introduced beatrice with a mischievous ring in her voice. "my sister beatrice,--_mr._ francis lindsay." mr. schultzsky was feebly wagging his head and chuckling. "she iss a smart girl," he said,--"but she wass fooled dot time." with a person less polished, the situation might have been deeply embarrassing,--but mr. schultzsky's great-nephew conversed entertainingly, with his arm resting easily on the table. he spoke of his native city of new york, of existing social relations, of his uncle's illness. he addressed his remarks to miss billy, but he glanced often at beatrice, who sat cold and silent across the room. "i trust you will give me permission to return the call," he said pleasantly, as at the end of ten minutes they rose to go. "i assure you i know what it is to be lonely, though i am not a girl." "do come," said miss billy cordially,--but beatrice remained silent. "now with your usual propensity for doing stupid things, you have drawn us into a fine entanglement," scolded beatrice, as they reached the sidewalk. "i never heard of anything so arrogant in my life as his asking if he might return the call. and it was not your place to give him permission, either. you quite forget you are my younger sister." "i think him extremely courteous and high-bred," returned miss billy with spirit, "and his asking to call upon us was a delicate and kind thing to do, under the circumstances. but don't let us quarrel about him, bea. how old do you suppose he is? i think he can't be over twenty-one,--but his grave manners make him appear older." "i have no suppositions whatever upon such a subject," said beatrice loftily. "but at least, you cannot deny he is a gentleman?" beatrice raised her pretty eyebrows. "into that i shall not inquire. it is enough for me that he is a relative of mr. schultzsky's." chapter xvi the child garden "as i went up pippin hill pippin hill was dirty." "no, i will not," said beatrice decidedly. "but the children will be so disappointed. they will have their reports all ready, and there will be almost no one here to hear them. neither mother nor father can be present. and the little ones are so fond of you." even this mixture of pathos and diplomacy failed to touch bea's flinty heart. "i don't wish to be here," she replied. "but you said last night you would." "that was before i knew you were going to invite every tom, dick and harry in the neighbourhood." miss billy was roused immediately. "i suppose by that you mean mr. francis lindsay," she said with spirit; "i invited him here on purpose. i want to be especially nice to him just because you were so mean and sniffy to him the night of our call. that was my blunder, and you needn't empty the vials of your wrath on him. he was as gentlemanly and pleasant as he could be, and did his very best to make us forget that we were two girls calling upon a boy. besides, he is interested in this kind of work--he told me so himself. and the children all adore him,--and mother said i might." the speaker paused, breathless. "it is none of my affair whom you choose to invite to the house," said beatrice coldly. "but i prefer not to see him." "all right, don't, then," retorted miss billy wrathfully. "i'll ask marie jean, instead. she'll be glad to come, i guess. but i don't understand you at all, bea. it isn't like you to be so petty and small." beatrice walked away without another word, and miss billy marched defiantly to the hennesy fence, and vaulted lightly over. it was wicked of miss billy, for she knew that this tomboyish expression of independence would be most irritating to beatrice. marie jean hennesy, sitting with her embroidery on the back porch, looked amazed at the breathless apparition which appeared over the fence. "you're the very one i wanted to see," said miss billy. "the street improvement club is going to meet in our yard this morning, and the children are going to read reports of what they have accomplished. i'm sure you'd be interested, and i do wish you'd come and hear them." marie jean was not so enthusiastic. "i don't know," she said doubtfully. "i was intending to finish this work to-day." "i do wish you'd come," urged miss billy. "there will be no one there besides the children, except mr. lindsay,--the young man staying at mr. schultzsky's. i think you'd enjoy it." marie jean folded her linen slowly. "maybe i'll come," she decided, "if i can get my dress changed in time." "don't stop to fix up," cautioned miss billy. "come as soon as you can." "you'd betther be makin' haste, mary jane," called mrs. hennesy from the foot of the stairs ten minutes later. "i seen the children go trapesing into miss billy's a minute ago, an' i guess maybe they're waitin' on you." marie jean deigned no reply. she tipped her mirror at a more satisfactory angle, as she applied mde. juneau's bloom of youth to her freckled nose, and gave a sigh of satisfaction at the result. then she surveyed the vision before her with a pleased smile. a dream in blue smiled back at her from the glass,--a dream in a striking costume of brilliant blue foulard, with pointed neck and elbow sleeves. a faded blue hat was perched sideways upon the heavy reddish hair, and a pair of long silk mitts in another shade of blue completed the attire. marie jean pursed up her lips to produce an elongated dimple in one cheek. "if i could only remember to do that every once in a while!" she said to herself. from the hush that pervaded the hall below marie jean suspected that her mother, with her nose pressed tightly against the window pane, was assuring herself as to the condition of affairs in the next yard. her suspicions were confirmed by the call that followed: "young mr. lindsay has came now, mary jane. he's all in white, close, hat, shoes an' all. sure ol' man schultzsky'll be worryin' about his laundry bills. they're all a sittin' round on the grass with him an' miss billy. you'd best make haste." this had the desired effect. there was a hurried moving about in the room upstairs, and two minutes later the daughter of the family appeared, fluffing her frizzes to their widest extent, and giving a final hitch to her openwork stockings. "whose sun shade is that yer afther carryin'?" asked the mother. "it's one i borrowed from lily corcoran to match my suit," answered marie jean cautiously. "don't be lettin' the neighbours know about it, either." mrs. hennesy withered beneath the reproof. "of course i'll not spake of it," she said. "it was a slipsy of the tongue, mary jane." her daughter accepted the apology in the spirit in which it was given, for her time was too limited for haughtiness. "all right," she said condescendingly, as she hurried down the walk. there was a commotion in the lee yard as the vision in blue appeared around the corner of the house. marie jean in her usual clothes was not to be lightly regarded, but in this new and startling costume the effect was electrifying to the spectators. little aaron levi, who was holding the floor, became suddenly affected with stage fright, and the small canarys stared open mouthed. fridoline alone arose to the emergency and inquired in a loud and interested tone, "hallo, mary jane. where'd you get that hat?" miss billy hurried forward to greet her guest. "we were afraid you were not coming," she said cordially, "so we went on with our reports. won't you sit down." she cast a rueful look at the gay costume. "i'm afraid you won't dare to sit on the grass with the rest of us. let's begin over again, aaron." marie jean took the garden chair that francis offered and smiled sweetly at him, not forgetting to exhibit the elongated dimple; miss billy settled back on the grass; and aaron levi took up his half-finished sentence. it was the first meeting of the civic improvement department of the child garden. the street improvement club, as they had chosen to call themselves, had been successfully organised and valiantly living up to their motto of "be clean and keep clean." the life of a missionary is never easy, and cherry street had made it particularly hard for the little band of workers who fought so bravely against the dirt, disorder and disease in their surroundings. it would have been hopeless to try to interest the older people, but the children were all enthusiastic little citizens, and their interest in the work had won over many of the fathers and mothers who had opposed the idea of cleanliness as "putting on airs." already the street had begun to show improvement, and the reports of the children plainly told under what difficulties some of the sturdy members had worked. aaron levi, with a long sheet of soiled foolscap, which effectually concealed a large portion of his anatomy, read the first report in loud and distinct tones: "as i belong to the street cleaning club i would like to tell a thing or more what happened last week. i told joe to pick up some paper which was lying in the street. if he wouldn't pick it up i would. i was just going to see what he says, so finally, he wasn't going to pick it up, and he said he wasn't going to pick dirty papers up from the streets, and that wasn't even all, he also littered the streets. he also stated that there was not a law passed forbidding people to throw papers on the street. "the place where i live, which is not large, there is very seldom a piece of paper or anything else. hoping that other places may be in the same condition. this can be easily done if people and children help together. "yours truly, "aaron levi." "very good," said miss billy heartily, as aaron, flushed with emotion and heat, took his place on the grass. "aaron, i'm proud of you. if we all do work of that kind there won't be need for our club always. ginevra, have you something to read to us?" ginevra twisted her apron about in her small brown hands. "i didn't write mine," she murmured faintly. "it's only about an orange peel, anyway." "can't you tell us, then?" encouraged miss billy. "there was a man goin' up cherry street last night, an' he was eatin' a orange, an' droppin' the peelin' right on the sidewalk. an' i said to him 'mister, please don't drop those on the walk.' and he didn't pay no attention to me, an' so i walked along behind him an' just picked them up myself." ginevra's patient little story was most touching, and miss billy and francis exchanged quick glances of sympathy. marie jean settled the folds of her gown, and smiled. "how perfectly lovely," she remarked to no one in particular. "isn't it interesting?" asked miss billy proudly. "frank murphy, you come next. what have you done?" frank's report was brief and to the point. "there was a dead rat out in the street. it was big and smelt awful. i poked it with a stick, but it was so smelly i couldn't take it in my hands. so i brought the cat out and she et it up." the fastidious sense of marie jean was much offended by the story, but she bravely accepted the custom of the romans, and only indicated her disgust by a slight elevation of the nose, as frank's successor was announced, and launcelot, in a high state of excitement and a huge red necktie, took the floor. "our slop barrel was running over. and ma wanted to give some of it to hennesy's chickens, and i wouldn't let her because it ud make hennesy's yard look worse than ever. and she said it was the slop collector's fault and that cherry street was always neglekted. and i said i'll see to it. and i went to see the slop gentleman at the city hall and told him about the slop running over, and the germs that were just flying round loose inside, and i spoke fierce and he said he'd 'tend to it. and i said he'd better and he said he would and he did. an' we've smelled nice ever since. "and johanna who lives with old man schultzsky threw tin cans into the street, and we kids waited till night an' then stuck them all along on the pickets to his fence, an' she don't do it any more. an' i asked ma not to wash me and mike in the same water, and she said all right if i'd carry in fresh water and i did. "an' there was a grocery boy dropped a egg on our walk, and i made him clean it up. "an' i got two kids to sign our pledge, and they'll come to every meetin' where there's going to be grub." launcelot's recital was followed by a chorus of admiration. francis' face was hidden, but his shaking shoulders showed his emotion, and miss billy's eyes danced as she patted the small workman upon the shoulder, exclaiming, "bravo, launcelot! you're our master constable." "now me," begged little mike. "are even the babes in arms mustered into service?" asked francis. "to be sure they are," responded the hostess. "mike is one of our best workers. tell us about it, dear." "a boy camed and shaked our new 'ittle twee. an' i said 'no, no, boy,' and he wunned away. and fwiddie helped me make a fence wound it," lisped the little lad. even marie jean was delighted with the childish recital, and she joined enthusiastically in the applause which followed. little mike buried his face in his sister's lap, and only glanced out shyly when friddie began his report. "i'm using my ecspress wagon to clean up the streets with," he began. "i go out early every morning, and aaron levi helps me. we pick up all the trash in the street an' pile it in my wagon, and sometimes there's two loads of it. we sell it to mr. hennesy for fillin' holes with. he gives us a cent a load. we bought nine cents worth of taffy on a stick last week, an' we're goin' to save up to buy a patrol wagon." one by one the other reports followed. lena engel had burned a pile of rubbish in the alley; moses levi had gathered all the old rags on the street and sold them to the ragman; mary o'shea had planted grass seed in her yard; pius coffee had cut down "eight stacks of weeds"; the little moriaritys had "filled up a sink hole" on their premises; jacob kohn had stopped putting ashes in the street; and two of the larger boys had placed a box on the corner, for the disposal of rubbish. even the tiniest children had their small stories to tell, and miss billy glowed with pride as the last member of the street cleaning brigade was heard from. "isn't that splendid?" she said, with face aglow, as she turned to her two older guests. "just think what it will mean to cherry street to have citizens of this kind growing up on it!" francis had risen from his place on the grass, and was facing the small audience. "may i give my report?" he asked, his brown eyes twinkling mischievously through his sedate glasses. miss billy's pleased face was consent enough. "you all know how long i have lived on cherry street," began francis; "just long enough to be greatly interested in your work, and yet not long enough to accomplish much. during that time i have had two sidewalks repaired, a new one laid, and some curbing reset. i have taken down three fences. i have cleared my uncle's yard of weeds, and we are beginning repairs on his house. i don't know what one's qualifications must be to belong to your club, but i should like to join,--here and now." the members of the street improvement club cheered with enthusiasm at this delightful addition to their number. but there was a greater surprise in store for them. "and so would i," said marie jean unexpectedly. whether it was francis' example, or the reports of the little ones, that had inspired the action, it would be hard to say; but the cause of marie jean's conversion was not inquired. the pledge was brought out, and amid vociferous applause the names of marie jean hennesy and francis wilde lindsay were added to the roll. "the feast of reason and the flow of soul has come to an end," announced miss billy, as she collected the written reports, and laid them in a neat pile on the grass. "but our mundane bodies are yet to be fed. on yonder porch there sits a jug, and in the jug there is some beer--only root, however. launcelot, if i pour the drink which cheers but not inebriates, will you pass the cakes?" "yes-um," replied the boy with alacrity. marie jean's face was expressive of a little disappointment as francis rose from the grass and followed miss billy and launcelot to the porch. "i wonder if i can help her," she said to ginevra. ginevra's unchildish eyes turned upon the speaker. "she don't need no help," she said slowly. "mr. francis needn't 'a' gone. he just went 'cause he likes her company-ship." the children had finished their root beer, and noisily rounded the corner of the house; and marie jean had reluctantly departed with repeated assurances of her aid in the future, when miss billy and francis sat down in the deserted yard. "it has been a great success," he said. "i cannot thank you enough for permitting me to enjoy the morning with you. it's a fine work, miss lee." the girl looked up brightly. "it was interesting," she admitted. "the little ones have worked so faithfully and well. i am proud of them all. but there is so much yet to accomplish. i think cherry street has been effectually aroused, and we can depend on the children to keep it awake. but it will take so much money to do what we wish, and our hands are practically empty." francis was silent for a few moments. "are there no ways of raising money?" he said finally. "seems to me there's energy enough in this club to earn some." "we're going to do that," said miss billy. "we are planning a lawn fête now. the mothers are all going to help us, and the children have been working like trojans. it will be held in our yard, and we shall demand your attendance, and maybe your services. everybody on the street will be roped in to help. of course we will raise some money in this way, but there are so many things to spend it for. it won't go half way round." francis pondered. "why don't you try for the hanson prize?" he asked finally. "what _is_ the hanson prize?" "why, haven't you heard? the papers are full of it to-day. peter hanson, the new york florist, offers a prize of one hundred dollars to be voted to improvements on any city street which makes the greatest change for the better during this year. the money is to be awarded about december , and the judges are to decide from photographs,--the 'before and after taking' style, you know." miss billy's eyes sparkled. "i wish we could," she exclaimed. "well, why can't you? look what fine work you've done in short time. think what you can accomplish in almost four months. you won't have to do much to make a great improvement here, for every little thing will show. i'll bring out my camera, and we'll take our first picture to-morrow morning. then we'll go to work together." "will you help me?" asked miss billy delightedly. "to be sure i will. am i not the agent on cherry street, and will not every improvement benefit my uncle's property? it's all a matter of business, you see. you'll let me help you, won't you?" he held out his hand questioningly. the brown eyes looked into the grey ones steadily and earnestly. miss billy put her hand into his with a grateful look that spoke volumes. "i shall be glad of help," she said simply. chapter xvii the lawn social "never was seen such a motley crowd,-- never was seen such a merry throng. never was laughter so long and loud: never so merry the jest and song." "cherry street will be ablaze with light and aglow with colour," theodore had mocked some months before. "number will be filled with diamond tiaras, and cut glass pianos, and freezers full of ice cream, to signify that a function is on!" and the spirit of his prophecy was being fulfilled. miss billy, herself, had tied eighteen campaign torches to the front pickets. now, as the twilight closed in, like tiny watchfires they sent their welcoming gleams up and down cherry street to the faithful. and the faithful, one hundred fifty strong, headed by mr. hennesy, in a wonderful dress coat of the fashion of ' , and brought up in the rear by mr. schultzsky, on two stout oaken crutches, partly for miss billy's sake, and partly for the sake of the clean street, marched to the street improvement club's first lawn social. long vistas of chinese lanterns in red and blue and yellow swung gaily over the lawn in double rows. francis had furnished these. john thomas hennesy had brought two locomotive headlights, and these, stationed on the side where miss billy hoped her "berbarry haidge" might sometime be, shot their rays across the yard straight into the faces of the astonished hollyhocks, and beyond, to where mr. hennesy's shirt flapped, wraith-like, on the hennesy clothes-reel. the house, thrown wide open, radiated with light and hospitality. children, comporting themselves with a dignity befitting the occasion, were everywhere. and still the people, in twos or threes, or sometimes shyly alone, with mysterious bundles under their arms warranted to contain ten cents' worth of household merchandise, which they should presently mix up and buy again, kept coming steadily through the front gate. miss billy, radiant in a pink gown, with pink sash ribbons fluttering at her waist, and her eyes shining like stars, squeezed john thomas's arm in a little ecstasy of excitement as he knelt in the grass, putting the rapidly accumulating packages into clothes baskets. "it is going to be a success," she predicted joyously. "it seems as though the people would never stop coming, and when we've sold every one of these packages at ten cents each, cherry street improvement club will have at least fifteen dollars in its treasury. john thomas, i'm the happiest girl in the world to-night!" "and the prettiest,"--said john thomas admiringly, sitting back in the grass, and taking in her appearance critically, from the pink bow on the top of her head to the toe of her black slipper. "now, that isn't like you," said miss billy reprovingly. "usually you don't pay compliments, because you are too truthful; but you haven't seen beatrice. she's in shimmery white, with a heavenly thing thrown over her head. and oh, john thomas, the dearest, sweetest, handsomest girl in the world, with the darkest eyes and the waviest hair, will be here presently. it is margaret van courtland. she's just home from germany, and she is coming to the social to-night." "well, you suit me all right," said john thomas, returning to his packages with a determined air. then he added sullenly, "i'd be feelin' all right, too, to-night, if it wasn't for that darn francis lindsay." miss billy gasped in astonishment. "why, what in the world has francis been doing to you?" "nothin'," said john thomas, with a noncommittal air. "but you said you didn't like him," persisted miss billy, in bewilderment. "do you?" "why, of course i do! i think he's elegant, and--and gentlemanly, and handsome, and everything! i don't see what you can have against him." john thomas made no reply, but went stubbornly on putting the packages into the clothes baskets, and miss billy sat flat on the grass to think the matter over. "now you are the second one," she went on, "that has an unreasonable grudge against francis. there is beatrice,--she treats him horridly. to-day when we were getting things ready, if she had to hand him a nail, she'd draw up her lips and give it to him as if he were a cat. it's horrid of bea,--and i've had to take her to task about it more than once. and do you know, in spite of it all, i believe francis likes her immensely." "he seems to like other girls immensely, too," said john thomas, from the depths of the basket. "oh, but not like that!" said miss billy with conviction. "when she is out of the room, he watches for her return,--and when she is in the room, though he talks to me, he looks at _her_. but you must never--never breathe it, john thomas. beatrice would faint at the very idea, and she'd never forgive me! it must be a dead secret between you and me." "is this straight goods you're giving me?" demanded john thomas, rising to his full height and gazing down at miss billy, seated on the grass. "why, i've never had any love affairs of my own. i never had anybody look hard at me, or take snubs cheerfully, or anything of that kind, you know. but as i said before, it's my conviction it is true." "well," said john thomas, going down on his knees before the baskets again, "if it _is_ true,--if it is miss beatrice he fancies, why, then, he won't find no rival in me." "miss billy, where are you?" called beatrice, around the corner of the house. "margaret is here, and looking everywhere for you." miss billy hurried away, and in another moment, in the full glare of a headlight, had her arms around the neck of a tall handsome girl, who was returning the salutation with interest. "billy!" remonstrated the newcomer laughingly. "you have a hug like a bear! you've spoiled my hair and crushed my attire. and i am in one of my best dresses, too, i'll give you to understand! i've brought six of the girls along with me, and we've pledged ourselves to put a dollar each in the box, and help make the thing go." "oh, but it's good to see you again," breathed miss billy. "my cup runneth over! i have a thousand things to say to you. where shall i commence first?" "defer it till to-morrow," counselled margaret. "we shall visit all day. your time to-night belongs to the lawn fête, not to me,--and i am here to help you. introduce me instantly to your marie jean hennesy, and to your lady of letters with the six children, and i want to see every flower in the child garden, and theodore,--oh, but first of all, let me meet your remarkable francis lindsay. billy, your letters have taken on a suspicious tone of late!" they locked arms in schoolgirl fashion, and came upon marie jean, who was presiding over a lemonade table. miss billy introduced them, and the two types of girlhood, one representing fashion in cherry street, the other the gentle blood of ashurst place, gazed intently at each other. marie jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless." she wore a sweeping black lace dress covered with spangles, that might have graced a coronation ceremony. the sleeves terminated at the elbows in two large puffs of blue satin, and her wrists tinkled with bracelets and bangles. her hair was bushed in heavy frizzes over her ears, and in the untidy waves piled high on the top of her head gleamed a crescent of rhine stones. [illustration: marie jean was gotten up in a style known as "regardless."] "my, she's plain!" was marie jean's mental ejaculation as she looked at the girl before her. margaret's pretty dark hair was parted evenly in the middle, and plaited into heavy dutch braids about her shapely head. her dress was a yellow embroidered mull, with simple sash ribbons of the same colour. had it not been for two slender rings that flashed upon the finger of one hand, marie jean might not have thought her worthy of passing consideration. but as the girls talked on in a friendly fashion, she gleaned from miss billy's remarks that margaret was a student of music and the modern languages:--that she pursued her studies in europe:--that she would return in the spring:--and marie jean could no longer doubt that she was the "real thing." moreover, she was pretty,--undeniably pretty,--with dark eyes, and white even teeth. marie jean wondered if "he" might not fancy this stranger, and for the first time in her life, she considered her own personal attractions with misgivings. a rush of lemonade trade separated the girls, and miss billy and margaret, wending their way on, came upon francis, lifting over the back fence a load of belated chairs, borrowed from the church. "i'll call moses levi to do this,--you've worked enough to-day," ordered miss billy. "beside, i want to introduce you to my very dearest friend, margaret van courtland." as francis flecked the dust from his clothes and came forward, a ray of the headlight fell directly upon margaret's face. "i have had the pleasure of meeting miss van courtland before," he said, without a moment's hesitation. "i beg your pardon," said margaret uncertainly,--"i cannot remember----" then as the light fell upon his tall form, handsome face, and dark, grave eyes, she gave a little gasp, and floundered helplessly in a sea of words. "why,--i had no idea!--of course, we met in cologne,--that is, we both fell in the mud!--miss billy, this is the _count_!" * * * * * on a lawn seat, in the flare of the campaign torches, mr. hennesy, a glass of lemonade in hand, held forth to a bevy of miss van courtland's fashionable friends on the superiority of masculine intellect as compared to that of woman. "sure an' phwat if a man cut off th' top av his coat, an' sewed it onto th' lig av his pants, to thrail in th' mud afther 'im? sure an' wudn't ye be afther thinkin' he was crazy? answer me thot, now?" "why, of course we would," answered the girls in a breath. "but then, mr. hennesy, we don't----" "wait now," said mr. hennesy, holding up one finger triumphantly. "be aisy a bit. there's one p'int scored fer th' masculoine moind! now thin,--phwat if i sh'ud be afther comin' here to-noight wid a feather shtuck up in me hair, or a gould buttherfly hoverin' over me forehead, th' same as ye have? wudn't ye be afther thinkin' me brain no heavier than me head-dress? answer me thot, now." "it certainly would look funny," admitted the girls laughingly. "there's two p'ints scored fer th' masculoine moind!" counted off mr. hennesy. "an' now,--if besides havin' a feather or a buttherfly in me head, i'd be daubin' me face wid red paint----" "oh, but we don't do that!" protested the girls in chorus. "some ladies does," said mr. hennesy sententiously. "thot's three p'ints in favour of the masculoine moind!" * * * * * on the sofa, in the corner of the parlour, beatrice had found mr. schultzsky, looking very pale and tired. "i haf been looking for my nephew," said the old man. "i think we should go home." "oh, mr. lindsay is surrounded by admiring young ladies," answered beatrice. "it would be a pity to spoil his good time. beside, you must wait and have a mystery package. they are selling at ten cents each, and every one is warranted." she brought from the kitchen a cup of tea and a slice of cake, and settled the tray cozily on the old man's knees. "they don't seem to need me in the garden, so i shall stay with you," she said. "may i sing for you?" she seated herself at the piano, and hesitated a moment, wondering what style of song the old man might like. "something old-fashioned, anyhow," she decided, and began in a sweet contralto voice "the pilgrim." "i'm a pilgrim, and i'm a stranger, i can tarry, i can tarry but a night: to that country where i am going, my redeemer, my redeemer is the light. there is no sorrow,--nor any sighing, nor any tears there,--nor any dying: i'm a pilgrim, and i'm a stranger, i can tarry, i can tarry but a night." there was the sound of a crutch on the floor, and beatrice was amazed to find mr. schultzsky standing at her side, wiping his eyes on his red cotton handkerchief. "my wife wass young like you," he said brokenly, "and she sang the same song. it wass a long time ago. she lifed only three months." "i am sorry, mr. schultzsky," was all beatrice found to say. she thought of the picture of the beautiful lady, hung crooked and high on the wall, opposite the old harness. "perhaps grief and loneliness have made him what he is," she thought pityingly. "miss billy is right. there is a tender side to everybody, if we can only find it." outside on a platform improvised from an over-turned tub policeman canary was selling off the packages with neatness and despatch. mr. hennesy disported a pair of ladies' side combs in his hair. mrs. hennesy had a mouse-trap. margaret van courtland became the happy possessor of a pound of dried codfish, francis had a pair of red mittens, three sizes too small. miss billy drew a fire shovel, john thomas got a mouth organ, and mrs. canary revelled in a dream book. theodore was going round with an ornamental and very sticky candy heart that one of the children had contributed, begging every one to accept it,--and finally traded it to marie jean hennesy for a bottle of catsup. "we'll open ours together," said beatrice, coming back to mr. schultzsky in the parlour. inside the wrappings in mr. schultzsky's hand lay a dainty thing, tied in tissue paper and blue ribbon. "oh, it's what margaret van courtland brought," exclaimed beatrice. it was a lady's handkerchief, sheer and fine, edged about with a delicate lace. it lay in the old man's palm, yielding up a faint perfume and he gazed at it without speaking. "and i," said beatrice brightly, "have a package of smoking tobacco! now that will be handy next spring to pack away my furs." the children grew sleepy, and the torches burned out, before the guests departed. every one was in holiday humour. every one voted it a success, and begged miss billy to set an early date for another. miss billy, tired but elated, counted the money in the tin box. "twenty-five dollars!" she announced jubilantly. "with that amount the improvement club shall work wonders. there is a five-dollar bill here. i wonder if anybody could have contributed that amount?" "mr. schultzsky put that in,--that is, he gave it to me to put in for him," answered beatrice quietly. "now what do you suppose can have come over the spirit of the old fellow's dream?" said theodore. "maybe he's enamoured of you, bea." "no, i think not," said beatrice soberly. "i believe it was the stirring of a tender memory. he talked to me to-night of a girl wife, who died." "well, it has been a night of nights, and i am not surprised at anything," said miss billy. "to think that francis should prove to be the count, and margaret and her set should go wild over him! did you know, beatrice, that he is a princeton graduate;--and has had a year at heidelberg, beside?" beatrice yawned. "is there any more to do to-night?" she said. "i'm very sleepy." chapter xviii margaret lends assistance "though whatsoever ills betide, i'll stand for ever by your side, and naught shall you and me divide because you are my friend." "the only nice thing about your going away is your coming home again," said miss billy to margaret. the two girls were seated side by side on the floor in margaret's room, which bore a startling resemblance to a fancy bazaar. the bed was filled with airy masses of silk and gauze, the divan covered with ribbons and gloves and shoes, and the floor strewn with a varied assortment of hats, perfumery flasks, filigree silver and handkerchiefs. margaret's last trunk had arrived from abroad, and the two girls were spending the morning at that mysterious and delightful task known to all womankind as "unpacking." "it's the next best thing to going away myself," continued miss billy, "to have you go; and come home with so much of the foreign atmosphere about you. your sentences fairly ooze rhine water, and foreign castles, and pretzels." "am i as bad as that?" laughed margaret. "you remember edward eggleston's woman, whose topic of conversation was always, 'when i was to bosting.' do i give the impression of having been to bosting?" "certainly you do," accused miss billy. "you've talked of nothing else since your return. of course i might confess that i've egged you on a little,--a very little,--for politeness' sake. oh, peggy dear, it does seem so inexpressibly adorable to have you here again!" "in order that you may tell me i talk too much," laughed margaret again. "never mind, miss billy. your turn will come in a few moments, and i know from your eager and glittering eye that you have much to tell yourself. here is the box i was looking for. i put the little things i got for you when i was abroad all together so that i could have the fun of seeing you open them." "the little things" filled a long pasteboard box, with a queer foreign picture on the label. margaret tossed it over on her friend's lap. inside were a number of bundles and packages, two long tubes of pasteboard, and several smaller boxes. miss billy's lips trembled with a smile in which tenderness as well as joy was mingled. "i can't tell you----" she began. "open them quick," commanded margaret. "i want to see if they're right. everything in the box was chosen especially for you." miss billy obediently untied the packages. margaret's words were true. everything in the box had been chosen with a loving care that made the gifts still sweeter. there was a flame-coloured shawl of soft clinging crêpe, a gay roman sash, a string of pale pink corals, four pairs of gloves in various shades of tan, a small gauze fan with ivory sticks, some carved wooden animals from the black forest, a set of crystals in purple and white, and best of all--two large photographs of famous paintings--the little angel of the lute, and the boy st. john. "mother has something else for you," said margaret, delighted at the evident success of her gifts. "she found three long pongee coats for you and beatrice and me. they are just alike except for the trimming, and she thought it would be fun for us to have them alike." miss billy glanced down at the heap of treasures in her lap to hide the grateful tears in her eyes. "i don't know how to thank you," she began unsteadily. "oh, pshaw," returned margaret. "you'd better compose some grateful resolutions, in nine or ten whereases, which will express your emotions. i don't remember that i ever wept tears of thankfulness over the things you brought me from chinatown when you went west. i merely received them as what was due me by all the laws of right and justice. that yellow shawl will make you look like a dream, billy. i thought of your browny-coppery hair when i bought it." "it isn't the _things_ that i'm grateful for," began miss billy smiling through her tears. "it's just that you're home again, i guess. you don't know how much i've missed you, peggy. you know, dear, it makes lots of difference in the number of friends one has, if one moves from ashurst place to cherry street." "why?" asked margaret innocently. "that's just what i knew you'd say," exclaimed miss billy. "a thing like that would never occur to you. but it does occur to the majority of people." "do you mean to say that your old friends have treated you differently since you--you moved?" demanded margaret indignantly. "yes, i do mean that," responded miss billy. there was a moment's hesitation before she added proudly, "of course, margaret, i don't feel that it has made any difference with _me_. only i have to admit to you that it does make a big difference with others." "with whom, for instance?" questioned margaret. "the blanchards and their ilk? i thought so. wilhelmina lee, you don't dare to tell me that the blanchard tribe _can_ hurt you?" there was a world of comfort in margaret's loyal voice, and miss billy was forced to smile at her vehemence. "i should be ashamed of you if i thought they could," went on margaret. "they are such a punk lot--if you'll excuse my english. we met mrs. blanchard and the girls in germany, and they were kind enough to offer us their escort through europe. mrs. blanchard is a regular old woman of the sea, and we were afraid we would either have to commit suicide or murder to get rid of her. she attached herself to mamma, and always called her 'my dear,' before strangers. she introduced papa as 'the honourable mr. van courtland'--you can imagine how furious that made my respected parent! and as for me, in a burst of affection, one day, she assured me that any one who had seen me six years ago would never have thought i 'would turn out so well!'" the imitation of mrs. blanchard's caressing tones was perfect. "she also told us the news of our friends," continued margaret. "of course i asked about you, the first thing; and she responded that you were interesting yourself in settlement work. it was such a laudable and praiseworthy undertaking, but she understood that it was apt to be dirty; and--now don't be mad--miss billy--a little unmaidenly, for a young girl. naturally my ire rose, and i replied that i thought it was the loveliest thing that a girl could do; that i had heard about what you had accomplished on cherry street, and that the moment i got home i was going to help,--if i wasn't too stupid. you don't mind my telling you all this, do you, billy?" margaret's guest was surveying her with shining eyes and eager expression. she did not seem to hear the last question. "oh, will you? will you?" she demanded delightedly. "oh, peggy, you can help so much if you will." margaret threw aside the masses of chiffon she had been folding, and faced miss billy with straightforward eyes. "how?" she asked. miss billy hesitated. there was help needed in so many places. then the pathetic face of holly belle rose before her. she thought of the worn little hands that thumped imaginary times on every piece of furniture in the house, of the sad little voice that spent its sweetness in lullabies, and of the starved little soul that was pining for the melody that had been utterly left out of her life. she remembered the unchildish expression of longing for a piano, and she told holly belle's sorry little story in a way that was very touching. margaret's eyes grew tender, and her voice was very sweet as she said simply: "i am more than ever glad of my music now. i shall love to help her. and she shall practice on my piano, too. tell me all you have been doing on cherry street," said margaret, as miss billy ratified the agreement with a grateful look that spoke volumes. "not very much," said miss billy modestly. "in fact, i haven't attempted much. 'settlement work,' as our friend mrs. blanchard so genteelly put it, is not in my line. when i first went to live on the street i had great ideas of improvement and progress, with a big i and p. there was such grand opportunity for both. i had in my mind's eye a view of cherry street, shining with cleanliness and beauty; the neighbourhood united by a community of interests, and the thoroughfare famed far and wide as a model avenue. now if i can get the canarys to deposit their garbage in a barrel instead of the gutter, can induce the levi children and the little hogans to stop fighting at least one night out of the week, and can tell the street car conductor to let me off near cherry street without having him say, 'where's that, lady?' i shall be satisfied." "but what about the child garden and the civic improvement club? mr. lindsay--i shall never cease to call him the count to my own soul--says that you have already lured him into the work, and are going to give him a gymnasium class to manage as soon as cold weather begins. and that willowy lady at the lawn fête who assured me that she was 'the mother of a numerous prodigy, and naturally restricted to her home circle----'" "that was mrs. canary----" "told me that you were the inspiring genii of the place, and that you had everybody on the street under the charm of your dainty thumb." "she ought to see my hands after this unpacking seance," put in miss billy. "don't interrupt, i'm not through yet. and miss marie jean hennesy assured me that since mr. lindsay came you had 'waked up to the needs of the street.' but the best is yet to come. marie jean's father, the old philosopher who appeared in the frock coat of the vintage of ' --complimented you up to the skies. he said that it was well that there was only one o' miss billy, or the street 'ud be baked with the sunshine she made." miss billy had sunk back against the bed, overpowered by the assault of praises. "'i was never so bethumped with words,'" she quoted. "i'm not accustomed to such flattery." "well, don't be so painfully modest, then. there's no sense in concealing things from me, miss billy. other people will tell me if you don't. papa and mamma wrote me the whole history of your triumphs two months ago,--the people on cherry street openly dote and gloat over you, and as for '_miss_ francis lindsay'--if it were any one else but you i should be devoured with jealousy!" "mr. lindsay has been of great help to me," said miss billy simply. her face was very happy. up to the present time she had felt that the work had been its own reward, but it was very sweet to have it appreciated by others. "he _is_ a nice fellow," said margaret. "simple and manly, i mean, and without the conceit that usually goes with those boys of brain and brawn, who have led their class and been captain of the college football team. of course, miss billy, i'm perfectly willing that he should help you with your civic improvement work, but don't ever fail to remember that i saw him first!" "i won't forget," laughed miss billy. "but you must take care, margaret. marie jean, according to mrs. canary, has a 'manner that's tinged with romantickism towards mr. francis.' however, as long as he is willing to help me in the cherry street work, i suppose you will permit me to use him. a boy can do more than a girl in many ways, and since theodore has gone to work i often feel the need of a masculine hand." "i suppose he comes in handily in chastising the canary birds? how you must miss ted during the whole day? you have always been together so much." "i do miss him," responded miss billy soberly. ted's hard lot had not yet ceased to leave a sore spot in his sister's heart. "still i do admire him for sticking to his work." "do you know that he has changed much in the last six months?" inquired margaret. "of course he has grown much taller, but that isn't all. he seems so much older and more sedate. he laughs and jokes, but the old happy-go-lucky boy is gone. the change is delightful, but i do confess i miss the old teasing ted." miss billy looked a little anxious. "yes, i know it," she said. "i have noticed it myself recently, and i've worried over it a little." "never let yourself be worried, or hurried, or flurried," sang margaret. "i'm not worrying or flurrying," retorted miss billy. "and as for hurrying"--she held up the new gloves as she spoke-- "time kid and i were home half an hour ago. "if i dared i should put on my new beads, my scarf, my sash and my crêpe shawl, and, carrying my new fan in my neatly gloved hands, should go home arrayed in all my glory; but i know i should die of pride before i reached my humble doorstep. so i shall wrap them up tightly, and say 'fine feathers do not make fine birds' over and over all my way home. oh, peggoty, i never dreamed that i should actually own a string of coral beads myself!" "i wish you could stay to luncheon," sighed margaret. "however, i'm coming for you with the cart this afternoon, and after we drive we'll come here for dinner. you'll have to, you see, in order to try on the coat before mother." "don't offer any inducements," said miss billy. "i shall continue to live with you from now on. tie your german flag to the window as a signal when you don't want to see me. i shall come here for music, for companionship, for comfort, for help, and for advice. in short, margaret, you'll be sorry, before the autumn begins, that you are such an 'eddicated person.' i may possibly have mentioned this fact to you before, but i _am_ glad, glad, glad that you are at home again." chapter xix personal pleasure "how sad, and bad, and mad it was! but then how it was sweet!" "school commences monday," groaned theodore dismally, from his favourite position on the couch. "how i am to modulate my tones to virgil's verse after shouting at mr. hennesy's mules for two months, i can't see. as for a geometrical theorem, i haven't a single lucid idea on the subject. it's been a great summer, come to look back on it." "dear me," said miss billy, throwing down the book she was reading,--"i don't see how i am going to break loose from everything and go back to school. the canary birdlings will be just as dirty and ill-cared for as ever,--and little mike, and isaac levi, and a half dozen others are too young for the public kindergarten. then there's the street improvement club, and the mothers' meetings,--why, i don't see what i am to do." beatrice looked up from the lunch cloth she was hemstitching for a church fair. "if you can trust the smaller children to me," she said timidly, "i think i can take care of them. i was talking to mrs. canary to-day. i told her she could send the twins and mikey over every morning for two hours, as usual. she seemed so relieved and happy over it, and promised that holly belle should go to school." "oh," cried miss billy, with shining eyes, "it's lovely of you, bea, and holly belle will be wild with delight. but those babies are the slipp'riest things when they're wet!" "i shall not drop them," said beatrice firmly. "i shall think of holly belle all the time, and that her chances depend upon my success. all the rest of the little brood shall have as conscientious care as i can give them for two hours every day,--but i don't expect it to be easy for me, as it is for you." "oh, they'll love you, bea," said miss billy enthusiastically. "you don't know what dear little things they are, especially just after they've been washed. well, _that's_ settled, then. margaret will be glad to relieve you at any time, i know,--and she will continue to look after holly belle's music, too. the way the child takes to it is simply wonderful. francis, of course, will continue at the head of the street improvement club." "five long days between this and school, and nothing to do!" murmured theodore luxuriously from the couch. "i shall drive no mules,--i shall instruct no growing intellects. fads may continue to lead miss billy round by the nose, up to the very last minute,--but i shall do nothing at all!" "it has been a busy summer," said mrs. lee, with a half arrested sigh. "is it good news, papa?" asked beatrice of her father, who in the soft glow of the study lamp had been perusing the illegibly scrawled sheets of a special delivery letter. "it is more!" said the minister impressively. "it is a vindication of human nature under the worst circumstances. nearly twenty years ago a young fellow came to me for assistance. he had been in a hospital with a fever, and had neither money, work or friends. he wanted to go out west, where he thought he might be able to find employment. i drew him out about his past life, and found he knew what it was to sleep in a haystack and be lodged in a jail: but i lent him twenty-five dollars----" "and he has died a millionaire and bequeathed you a fortune," wound up theodore dramatically, sitting upright. "no," said the minister, smiling, "those things happen only in books. what the fellow has really done is to return me the amount i lent him, with a half-manly sort of a letter showing he has cherished a sense of gratitude all these years. that is much more than i expected." "conscience money!" groaned beatrice. "i suppose it will go to the poor." "let us hope to the deserving poor, like me!" observed theodore, dismally echoing the groan, and collapsing on the couch again. "or like father," said miss billy severely. "it would buy him lots of things he needs." the minister sat tapping his glasses with smiling introspection. "when i was a lad," he said slowly, "i desired with all my heart and soul a certain steam toy. it was rather a clever contrivance, and of course, was expensive. but i wanted it more than i've wanted anything since. sometimes i dream i am a boy again, and always i see standing in the black shadow of disappointment that steam toy." "and father's going to buy it now," said theodore breathlessly. "no," said the minister, shaking his head: "it's too late! that's the worst of it. but that was a distinct disappointment in my life that no amount of reasoning could reason me out of." "it makes me think of an incident of my own childhood," said mrs. lee. "when i was about five years old, i attended my first party, given by a neighbour's child. all i can remember is that a black-eyed lady with dark curly hair passed a platter of tarts, and with an indistinct idea that it was a well-bred thing to do, i said, 'no, thank you,--i don't eat tarts.' then i sat with welling eyes watching the other little guests eat theirs. it was a very real grief. i cried for that tart in the loneliness of many nights,--and i haven't forgotten it in thirty years." "it is my belief that every one has ungratified whims," said the minister. "some are grown-up whims, but none the less whimsical. i propose that we use this money for the gratification of purely personal pleasure. there will be five dollars for each of us. we'll have one glorious day of vacation,--with the world before us, and five dollars for spending money!" "i know what i should like to buy with mine," said beatrice, "but i know you would all think it silly." "and i've had an ungratified whim for years!" said miss billy, rising and overthrowing a pile of books in her excitement. "but you'll call it preposterous when you find out what it is!" "now watch her bring home a bear cub with a silver chain round its neck, and want me to build it a little pagoda to live in," said theodore disdainfully. "but i know what i am going to do. i shall be the count of monte cristo for one day only. remember the date,--september the first,--to-morrow!" "but it does seem a little wasteful," began mrs. lee, smiling in spite of herself at the exuberance of spirit in the air, "especially when----" the minister interrupted, a mischievous ring in his voice. "i beg to remind you, mrs. lee, that 'all work and no play makes jack a dull boy.' we intend to have a lark. to relieve your mind let me add that i myself shall go on an eminently respectable lark,--one that shall not estrange me from my flock, for instance. we intend for one day to divide our ages by two, and no remainder. you shall be one of us, or forfeit your money. though poor in pocket, we shall be rich in experiences. do you agree?" there was much bustling commotion at number cherry street the next morning. "i've sent word to the children not to come to-day," said miss billy, putting on her hat and tucking her rain coat under her arm. "poor little things,--they'll be disappointed. well,--good-bye, bea,--i shall not see you again till night." "now do be careful, wilhelmina," warned beatrice. "don't buy anything you don't want, or make yourself conspicuous in any way, or----" "why," said miss billy, "i am going to gratify a heretofore ungratified whim. there are no conditions whatever. i have divided my age by two, the world is before me, and i have five dollars for spending money. well, good-bye again; take care of yourself, dear," and miss billy sailed off down the street. theodore went next. he was attired in his very best clothes, and presented a fashionable appearance in a fearfully high collar and a white tie. then the minister departed. beatrice could hear him say to her mother in the hall, "i haven't had such delightful chills of anticipation since i took part in cane rushes at college twenty-five years ago. and i haven't the slightest idea what i'm going to do, either!" next beatrice heard the door close after her mother's retreating form. she peeped out of the window and noted she carried a shopping bag. "the dear," she said. "she will buy us all stockings or gloves, and declare it was a purely personal whim. but it won't be keeping to the contract if she does!" it was quite ten o'clock when beatrice left the house. she was dressed in her best street gown, with dainty hat and gloves to match. as she closed the door behind her, francis lindsay was just coming out of his uncle's gate. he lifted his hat to her, and then crossed the street. "i hope miss billy isn't ill?" he inquired, with a shade of constraint in his manner. "i've heard, you see, of the child garden being discontinued to-day." "no, she is not ill," answered beatrice, feeling with embarrassment the colour creeping into her cheeks. "if i could only get over this silly habit of blushing every time a stranger speaks to me," she thought angrily,--and then blushed more furiously than ever. there was nothing to do but walk along, and francis, who evidently also was on his way down town, walked with her. he talked pleasantly, but beatrice's replies were sadly disconnected. "he noticed me blush," she kept thinking hotly. "no doubt he is conceited enough to attribute it to his own personal charms!" she welcomed the first store as an avenue of escape, and bade him good-morning. "he has just spoiled my day," she thought, as she tossed over silk stockings and lace handkerchiefs in a flurry. "i'm always making myself ridiculous!" but the zest of shopping came back to her, and she visited store after store, looking at pretty, dainty, feminine things, feeling her money always safe in her pocket, and knowing exactly what she should be weak enough to buy in the end. but it was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon, and she was feeling tired and a little dishevelled and very hungry, before she came to the mecca of her wanderings. it was a fashionable shoe-store, and in the very centre of the show window hung a fascinating pair of little red satin slippers, with louis quinze heels. beatrice shut her eyes and grappled with temptation. "i haven't a thing that's suitable to go with them," she argued to herself. "in fact, i believe they would be out of place anywhere but in a french dressing room. but they are so sweet and dainty with their beautiful little gilt heels----" she opened the door and went in. the place was filled with customers, but a bustling salesman came forward and smiled into beatrice's pretty flushed face. yes, certainly, he would take them out of the show window. they were the only pair in stock,--a sample pair. he tried one of the satin slippers on beatrice's dainty foot, and stepped back to admire the effect. "they are a perfect fit," he exclaimed. "yes," said beatrice. they pinched her toes a little, but she would not wear them often. "five dollars, did you say?" then she should have to wait for the silk hose to match. she had hoped they would not be more than four. she pondered a moment, and then decided aloud, "i'll take them." the salesman hurried away to put them in their box, and beatrice, looking around for the first time, encountered the keen glance of a pair of dark eyes at the opposite counter. it was francis lindsay. there was one dismayed moment,--then she hastily averted her glance without bowing in recognition. "he has watched me buy those silly slippers," she thought, growing red and white by turns. "he has stood there watching me admire myself in them. his eyes were full of unutterable things. oh, i just--hate him!" she glanced into the long mirror opposite, and it reflected back a figure from which all the morning daintiness had fled. her boots were dusty, her gloves gaping at the fingers. the jaunty hat was awry;--her face was flushed, and burned with fatigue and heat. the salesman returned with the package, and beatrice gave him the five-dollar bill. she hastily left the store, and, still with averted eyes, bumped into the very person she was seeking to avoid. "i beg your pardon," he said, raising his hat. "it was my awkwardness. i stopped to raise my umbrella. you see it rains a little." then noticing that she carried no umbrella, and that she was looking very tired, he asked kindly, "are you going home?" "i think i am ready for home," answered beatrice, trying to keep the tears out of her voice. "i've been down town since ten o'clock----" she stopped suddenly, the absurdity of the statement coupled with the single package of which he had relieved her, appealing to her with full force. "but you've had luncheon?" "i am not at all hungry," declared beatrice perversely. she was very near to tears, and she felt that another question on his part might precipitate them. "this is the very time to have you taste the german cake they call 'puffer,' and which can be had only in this shop," said francis,--and almost before she knew it he had led the way into a caterer's, and a neat little maid was taking an order for iced chocolate and the german sweet-bread. "what would father say?" she thought despairingly. "what will miss billy say? what shall i say to myself, to-morrow?" but for the present she was strangely content to sit in restful retirement opposite this grave dark-eyed young fellow, mr. schultzsky's grand-nephew, and satisfy her hunger with the iced chocolate and delicious german cake. [illustration: she was telling him the history of the day.] strangely, too, in a few moments she was telling him the history of the day, and francis was laughing heartily. "that accounts for the oddity of miss billy's actions," he declared. "i saw her riding on the top of an empty omnibus, clad in the sombre disguise of a raincoat. but she evidently didn't care if i knew her, for she waved her hand to me from her elevated perch." beatrice was too tired to be horrified. "i knew she would do something dreadful," she said, "but i, certainly, shall offer no criticism." it was a tired little family group that gathered in the minister's study that night. "i had no idea," said theodore, from the couch, "that it used a fellow up so to have a gay time. i took dinner at the 'alhambra,' ordering the best the place afforded, only cutting out the wines. that cost me two dollars, and i tipped the waiter with a quarter. then i took a cab to the horse show, and took in the matinee on the way back. it cost me a dollar for a seat in the parquet. i didn't have enough money left for supper, so i ate two mince pies at a restaurant and i've got a nickel left." "well," said miss billy, "it comes easier to tell my story since i've heard theodore's. i've always had the greatest desire to ride on the top of an omnibus and look at things from that point of view. i knew for appearance's sake i couldn't trundle back and forth from the trains, so i hired a whole omnibus for myself, with a driver, to take me out into the country. it was grand! it seemed as though the whole world was unrolled before me! it gave me a feeling of being some great bird flying through the air----" "a wild goose, for instance!" put in theodore disgustedly. "well i'm not an ostrich, anyhow, to eat all a hotel affords and two mince pies on top of it!" retorted miss billy, with spirit. "that omnibus ride cost me four dollars, but it was worth it. then i bought a box of chocolates and came home." "now i suppose it's my turn," said the minister. "the first thing i saw when i left the house this morning was a load of watermelons. they were unusually fine melons, and the boy offered me the whole wagon load dirt cheap." "father!" broke in miss billy tragically, "what can i do with the rinds of a wagon load of watermelons, to say nothing of the seeds? we couldn't clean it up in weeks!" "i had an idea your mother pickled the rinds," said the minister mildly. "consider pickling a wagon load of watermelon rinds," groaned beatrice. "beside, papa, we don't pickle the shell!" "cease your lamentations," said theodore, with a wave of his hand. "i see in this the nucleus of a great business enterprise, that shall live, flourish and spread,--and shall be known in the future as the 'lee pickle works.' i shall be president, father can be buyer, and miss billy and bea can do the pickling." "well," went on the minister, "i'm glad now i didn't buy the melons,--but it was certainly a temptation, they were such fine ones. the next thing i seemed to fancy was a buggy robe,--just five dollars,--so warm, and handsome, too, in the brown and gold colours your mother likes. but i happened to remember we didn't have a buggy, so i gave that up." "this seems to be all about the things father didn't buy," said theodore astutely. "he's giving us mild shocks, so we can bear the climax of what he did buy." "i assure you i ran the gamut of temptations," said the minister. "at two o'clock i had about decided on a bull terrier pup. at three i was discussing the merits of a newfangled washing machine. but i finally ended it all by wandering into a fashionable photograph gallery and sitting for a picture, in the latest style. it will not be finished till next week, though." there was great clapping of hands as this recital was finished. "motherie next," called miss billy. "i have no story to relate," protested mrs. lee. "knowing exactly what i wanted, i went straight and bought it. five dollars' worth of pots, kettles and pans. i haven't had any new kitchen utensils since our tenth wedding anniversary, and maggie and i were at our wits' end with leaky vessels." "you broke the contract!" said theodore, pointing an accusing finger. "kitchen utensils cannot be classed as a personal whim." "indeed they can! you will think so when you see them!" returned his mother laughingly. "they are of every shape, size and description. at first i thought of buying you all pretty silver pins, and having the date inscribed as a memento of a day of experiences. but thinking you might not consider that fair, i took the pans." "last but not least," announced theodore oratorically, "beatrice will tell us the experiences that befell a beautiful damsel in search of a personal whim." beatrice coloured slightly, but did not raise her eyes from her hemstitching. "there is very little to tell, and it is very foolish. i've fancied a pair of satin slippers in frothingham's show window for a long time. such gay little things, with the dearest heels,--so i went and bought them." "oh," said miss billy disappointedly, "is that all? didn't you meet with any experiences quite unlike other days,--see new people, and get other views? didn't anything new come into your life?" beatrice bent her head lower over her work. "no," she answered, "nothing new." chapter xx fair skies "cæsar himself could never say he got two victories in one day." "do you know, ted," said miss billy, as they took their way to school together one morning in late september, "this air makes me feel like cutting civilisation entirely and taking to the wide prairies, where i can stick feathers in my hair, ride a bare-backed pony, and never hear another dreary platitude of pope or dryden's nor bother my head about the difference between the hieroglyphic and the hierotic characters on the egyptian obelisks." "well, i wouldn't be surprised at anything you might do," said theodore, "and i know it would be done exhaustively. but what's the matter with school? i thought you liked it." "oh, it's not school, altogether. it's everything. it's life,--civilised life,--with all its little petty trials and meannesses. now here is miss peabody's school that we have to pass,--the hall of the select and the home of the cultured,--an eden from which i have been driven, to judge from the manner of some of the girls when i go by. of course, i could go round the other way, but i just won't! i march past with my head up and my colours flying,--they give me the iciest bows,--i return them a mere sweep of my eyelashes,--and the thing is over for the day. but it rankles and hurts, and makes me miserable in spite of myself." "i have been enduring that sort of thing for two months," said theodore. "i am becoming cheerfully resigned to it. whenever i meet those girls in a crowd together, they have an interesting letter to bend their heads over, or something of that kind, and at the very last moment one or two will look up and give me a half-frightened bow, and i raise my hat with dignity to miss peabody's cupola, or some other equally lofty object, and walk on. of course, i understand myrtle blanchard is at the bottom of it all. she's paying back an old score." miss peabody's select seminary for young ladies, which they were approaching, was a handsome building in grey stone, with an imposing iron fence, and a square of well-kept lawn strewn with garden seats, on which "the select" were even now gathered. miss myrtle blanchard was there, and as she saw miss billy and theodore coming, she rose, in company with two other of the most popular girls, and advanced to the gate. "you don't suppose they are meaning to speak to us," gasped miss billy in amazement. "why, those three girls have been the ringleaders of the whole thing!" evidently the young ladies did mean to speak to them. they advanced with outstretched hands, and miss myrtle hooked on to miss billy's arm, while the other two engaged theodore. "why in the world don't you ever come to see me," said miss myrtle, with an expostulatory little shake. "but there,--i know the reason. you are so carried away with cherry street that you haven't a thought for old friends! oh, i know all about it, miss billy.--you needn't deny it! i've heard all about your improvement club, and the social you gave, and everything. maude and blanche wrote in their last london letter that slumming was more fashionable than ever, there." "yes?" said miss billy, looking meaningly at theodore,--but miss myrtle was not to be so lightly shaken off. "margaret van courtland tells me she is a member of your club,--and that elegant young college man, mr. lindsay, too, that the girls are raving over. why didn't you let me know about it this summer? i've been just aching to help somebody. i want you to put my name down right away for membership. maude and blanche will want to join when they come, i know. they'll love to belong to anything margaret van courtland is connected with. they just adore her,--and they'll enjoy slumming." "it isn't slumming," said miss billy, with repressed indignation. "it's just a little neighbourhood affair, and we are all on perfectly equal terms." "call it what you will, only let me belong! remember now,--you've promised!" and with a final squeeze to the imprisoned arm, and a brilliant smile for theodore, miss myrtle and her companions happily retraced their steps to the sacred confines of the seminary. "hold me up till my shattered nerves are restored," murmured theodore. "they almost ate me up!" "miss myrtle has an axe to grind, but she shall not grind it on my grindstone," said miss billy resolutely. "she has a misty idea that i've become fashionable and quite the thing, and that she's not in it. she called our improvement work 'slumming,' and wants to join our club. imagine her condescending to mr. hennesy, or marie jean, or mr. schultzsky, or in short, any of them! and yet, theodore, i'm such a miserably weak character, i couldn't help being glad i had on my real lace collar when she was talking to me." "well," said theodore, "the tables have at last turned,--and strangely enough, through our friends in cherry street. you wakened, as it were, to find yourself famous, miss billy." "nonsense!" said miss billy. "i gave her distinctly to understand that every member of the improvement club was a friend of mine,--but of course she is too shallow to understand it. still, our relations with many of the girls will be less strained now, because of her friendliness, and that is something to be thankful for." the blanchard trap stood at the door of the high school that afternoon, when school was dismissed. miss myrtle herself, in a natty green coat with a scarlet collar, and a red tam o' shanter, sat high on the box with the reins in her hands. "i have come for you both, to drive," she smiled. "this is our new trap. don't you admire the red paint and the shining wheels? i know, now we have it, i shall bore you with attentions, but i don't expect to take 'no' for an answer." "ted," murmured miss billy, "i shall have to feed you to the lions. providentially, here is margaret with her cart to take me." "i refuse to be fed," said theodore firmly. "i've got to go up town and order some things for mother. get into the trap yourself,--and i'll go with margaret." so miss billy was obliged to climb into the seat beside miss myrtle, while theodore, winding his long legs into the cart, took the reins from margaret's hand and with a sharp click to patsy was off without a backward glance. margaret laughed. "ted, you grow more like billy every day. you have the same way of waving the american flag, and reading the declaration of independence, and having your rights. now, don't go on disliking myrtle. for one thing, it's too much trouble. if you think of her at all, think of her kindly, and, with a little practice, life will be a summer sea." "no, sir!" said theodore, flecking a fly off patsy's back with the whip. "when people stand on my corns, i propose to let them know it. i found out who my friends were when i drove mr. hennesy's mules. it was perfectly honourable work, you know, but not elegant. a fellow's better off without fine-feather friends. he has the courage, then, to be what he is,--and stands a better chance of amounting to something." "well, i dare say you are right," said margaret, "and if you are not,--it would be impossible to make either you or billy over, so what's the use of arguing? here is brown's drug store. will you step out and give them this bottle, ted? it will take some time to put up the prescription, so tell them they may deliver it." theodore's face changed. he was on the point of saying, "i don't go to brown's,"--but he would a little rather margaret should not know that story. after all, why should he not go? it certainly would not improve mr. brown's opinion of his character if he avoided the place. he gave the reins into margaret's hand, took the bottle and disappeared into the store. there were two or three customers being waited upon,--the clerks were in their usual places,--mr. brown was at the desk. he took the bottle to the prescription clerk. "when it is ready, send it up to mr. van courtland's," he said, and was turning away when mr. brown called him. "i have a letter here for you," he said, fumbling among the papers on his desk, "that i had just written and was about to send. yes,--this is it,--merely asking you to call at the store." he opened the money drawer, took out five dollars, and shoved it toward theodore. "mrs. thorpe found that bill a few days after you were there. it had slipped under the lining of her purse. she has been away all summer, so she only had an opportunity of returning it to me a day or two ago." mr. brown was returning to his books, and theodore took the bill with heightened colour. "i hope, sir," he said, "that this entirely establishes my honesty in your mind?" "i never doubted it," said mr. brown. "you took the affair a little too hard. remember, you discharged yourself. if you should want your job back again next spring, i'll try to let you have it. i don't think you will ever lose another bill." "thank you, sir," said theodore, and passed out. he sprang into the cart beside margaret, and gave the astonished patsy a vigourous slap with the lines. "why, what's the matter?" said margaret. "your eyes are as shiny, and your cheeks as red----" "i don't mind telling you the story now," said theodore. "i went into that store wearing convict's stripes, figuratively speaking, and i've come out without 'em. my character is cleared, but i've a notion it will take some time for my shaved hair and my self-respect to grow again." chapter xxi hallowe'en "never since the world began has been such repartee; and never till the next begins will greater things be done by man than this same company." "i'm going to have a party to-night," announced theodore, coming into the study on a morning in late october. mrs. lee and the two girls looked up from their work in astonishment. "to-night!" they said in chorus. "i think it's about my turn to 'entertain,'" went on ted in a mock aggrieved tone. "father opened the house to the guild last week, mother had the mothers' meeting here yesterday, beatrice has company all the time, and i'm still picking peanut shells, left from miss billy's lawn fête, out of the grass. don't you think that i deserve a 'function' to-night?" "it seems to me that your arrangements are being made rather late in the day," laughed mrs. lee. "one usually plans for a party a day or two beforehand." "not for this kind of an entertainment," explained theodore. "this is a sudden inspiration of mine--planned 'on the spur of the instant,' as mrs. canary would say. if you'll let me use the gasoline range to-night, that's all i'll ask. i'm going to give a pancake party." "what's a pancake party?" inquired miss billy. "hist!" returned theodore mysteriously. "'tell it not in gath, publish it not in the streets of ascalon,' is my motto. the ghosts and the witches walk abroad to-night, and we shall fitly celebrate. so much you shall know and no more. miss billy, if you offer to make me a rarebit in your chafing dish to-night, i shall courteously accept; and mother, a bottle of stuffed olives, three bunches of radishes and a fruit cake would be delicate attentions on your part." "whom are you going to invite?" asked beatrice. "oh, margaret, of course, and lindsay, and our friend john thomas, and i suppose mary jane." "but that won't make enough men to go around." "oh, you and mary jane can divide mr. lindsay," said ted carelessly. "he's big enough to make two." beatrice left the room, and ted went to his father's desk, where he laboured painfully over the following poetical effusion: "theodore lee would like to see you at his home on friday. please come at eight, and do not wait to make yourself too tidy. for spells and tricks are apt to fix your clothes in sad condition; and folks, i ween, on hallowe'en are not on exhibition." * * * * * beatrice, coming downstairs at eight o'clock that evening, to assist in receiving the guests, found miss billy seated on the hearth rug, while ted bedecked her hair with an artistic arrangement of feathers pulled out of the duster. the elder sister looked disturbed. "goodness!" she said. "don't let ted do that. i hope you're not intending to wear those things." "why not?" said miss billy carelessly. "the feather duster's moulting, anyway." "it isn't the duster i'm thinking of. it's you. why _will_ you be so ridiculous before visitors?" "oh, pshaw," exclaimed miss billy impatiently. "i'm doing it for fun. the 'visitors' are only girls and boys." "mr. lindsay is twenty-four," replied beatrice with dignity, "and i am not a child." "oh, ho!" jeered ted, "you're both methusalehs! lindsay's got more sense than most people of his age. he's more like sixteen than twenty-four." miss billy had already removed the towering plumes. "i love my darling sister so that i would much for her forego," she chanted. "there goes the door bell. ted, you're the footman?" "by all the powers above!" exclaimed ted, as he swung open the door in mock ceremony. "mr. francis lindsay, in a full suit of evening clothes! such splendour! i'm glad now i blacked my shoes. miss billy, don't you wish you'd braved bea's jeers and worn your ostrich tips?" "to the horror of all who were present that day he uprose in full evening dress, and with senseless grimaces endeavoured to say what his tongue could no longer express," quoted francis. "am i or am i not to come in? good-evening, miss billy, good-evening, miss lee." beatrice looked critically at the tall figure bending over her sister's hand. in his evening clothes mr. schultzsky's grand-nephew was a fine looking man, she owned to herself, and her voice was unusually cordial as she added her greeting to miss billy's. at the stroke of eight margaret appeared, and john thomas soon followed, in a high state of collar and excitement. "mary jane wasn't ready to come with me," he announced cheerfully. "she was prinking before the glass when i went by her room, and she said she couldn't fix her hair. she'll be along." his prediction was verified by a faint jingle of the door bell. a moment later marie jean's shrill voice was heard in the hall. "oh, thank you, mr. theodore, don't mention it, please. i'm _so_ sorry to have kept you waiting. where shall i lay my cloak?" the little group, gathered round the first fall fire, fell apart to permit the entrance of the last guest. it was marie jean, but transformed. she wore the trailing silk skirt, and a bodice of showy pink taffeta, but the heavy frizzes were gone. her hair was parted as smoothly and evenly as margaret's own, and the german braids lent new character to her face. she glanced in some surprise at beatrice's simple grey-blue gown, and surveyed miss billy's scarlet waist with disapproval. the plain elegance of margaret's tailor suit utterly escaped her, but her eyes brightened as she beheld francis' pearl studs. "he's got a genuine swallow tail," she said to herself. "i'm glad i dressed up." "come into the kitchen," announced the host, leading the way to the rear of the house. "this is the scene of our operations. lindsay, how we are to manage such elegance as yours and miss marie jean's, i don't see. you'll have to be aproned, each one of you." he handed marie jean and margaret long gingham aprons, and then to the amusement of all proceeded to array francis' six foot length in one of bea's daintiest and most be-ruffled pinafores. "the gasoline stove is for the fudge, which you, john thomas, will find already mixed, in the pantry," continued ted. "the range is ready for the pancakes, which you, francis, are to bake during your leisure moments this evening. in the meantime, we will try what fate has in store for us." there was a little thrill of expectation as miss billy and theodore appeared, bearing a tub partly full of water, with a number of rosy cheeked apples floating on the surface. "dive for your fate," commanded ted. "the red apples are for the girls, the yellow ones for the boys. your intended's name you'll find within." there was a dashing and splashing after the little buoys of fate, and even beatrice and marie jean lost their dignity as the apples slipped time after time from the inviting crunch of their teeth. margaret secured the first--a big red apple labelled "the count," john thomas drew "miss billy," and ted made a wry face as he read "myrtle blanchard" on the yellow baldwin that floated in his clutch. "let's try the next test before we go to cooking," said miss billy, producing a tray which held seven miniature ships. each was made of the half of an english walnut shell, and held an inch of wax taper in its tiny hold. "choose your colour," directed the hostess, "and launch your ship on the sea of life. if the light burns steadily till the wax is all melted, and the boat rides the waves safely, you are assured a long and happy life. if two boats come together and continue to sail about side by side their owners will pass much of their life together. two boats in collision means a quarrel. a boat that touches frequently at the sides of the tub predicts many short voyages for the owner, but a bold vessel that goes to the other side promises a life of adventure and travel. all aboard!" one by one the small crafts were launched on the sea, and the owners hung over the tub awaiting the result with eagerness. margaret's capsized early in the course. francis' and marie jean's crept along side by side, theodore's and john thomas' collided, and miss billy's travelled independently and speedily across the tub despite the sly efforts of ted to turn its course. there was much teasing and laughing before the boats dropped their anchors. theodore, who carried the tub to the kitchen, returned with a small iron vessel, a long-handled spoon, and a cup of water. "this is the truest test of fate," he announced. "the melted lead dropped into the water will foretell every man's destiny with neatness and despatch. strike, while the iron--and lead--is hot. your turn first, 'oh rare pale margaret.'" the group left the fudge to the mercy of the fire and surrounded theodore. the lead dropped into the cup of water, and ted peeped cautiously into the bottom. "the fates speak truly," he announced solemnly. "it's a cabbage--thrown at your first concert, i suppose. miss marie jean, the next spoonful is for you. here it is, but i'll be switched if i know _what_ it is." john thomas peered over his shoulder. "it's a hand glass," he announced. "so it is," assented ted. "i suppose you'll be a professional beauty like mme. de staël or maxine elliott. you may take the lead for a memento. beatrice, step up to the front. hail, all hail, you have won--a man,--a nice big fellow with a football." "that must be you, francis," said john thomas, looking up at the tall athlete at his side. beatrice looked annoyed, and francis' usually calm face reddened suddenly. miss billy's quick wits detected confusion in the air, and she stepped forward hastily. "now me," she said. theodore dropped a spoonful of lead in the water, and it sank with a heavy thump. "the man with a hoe! or perhaps it's mr. schultzsky with his crutch instead," announced ted. "this is for you, john thomas--a nice round dollar. that means that one of these days you'll have money instead of lead to put in the fire.... now mr. lindsay, leave your griddle and behold." "a lead maiden!" said margaret, as the metal hardened into a graceful shape in the bottom of the cup. "a bride, i declare! see her bouquet." "last but not least," announced ted cheerfully, "is the fate of mr. theodore somers lee, one of the most charming and delightful members of our little circle. he deserves the best that the gods can provide. what have we here? a book! i bet it's a bible. i have always had a secret longing for the life of a missionary. there's a cry from macedonia, and i shall turn out immediately." "it's more likely to be a bed than a bible," announced miss billy witheringly. "then you'll turn in, not out." "why is a boy pigeon-toed at night?" improvised theodore. "because he turns in." there was a chorus of groans in reply. "that is the way we roast chestnuts on hallowe'en," said francis wickedly. "isn't it time to put on the pancakes?" said john thomas. "the fudge is almost done." "that's my work," said francis. "miss billy, did you say there was a ring in the batter? what is it for?" miss billy had brought out a bag of chestnuts, and was placing them in a long row on the top of the stove. "the one who gets the ring is to be married first," she said. "but we'll try the chestnut charm before the cakes are ready,--if you can stand the smoke." "what is the test?" asked margaret. "name the two nuts," explained ted, "one for yourself and one for 'your steady.' if they roast quietly and gently your affair will be long and tranquil; if they burst or fly apart, there will be troubles in the family." the circle of young people gathered closer, and watched the little emblems of friendship. the fire crackled and burned brighter, and a silence fell upon the room. one by one the chestnuts popped and flew off, until only the two named by miss billy were left. they burned quietly side by side until francis pushed them, fully roasted, into the owner's lap. "you are the happy one," he said. "for whom were they named?" "i shall never tell," declared miss billy. four great stacks of smoking cakes were carried into the dining room, where miss billy's chafing dish was already burning. mrs. lee had evidently lent her assistance, for added to theodore's menu was a large plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of hot chocolate. the hungry people gathered around the table; and the brown pancakes, covered with butter and smothered in maple syrup, received much commendation. while they were at the table the doorbell rang. mrs. lee, who had answered the bell, came into the dining room with a large basket in her hand, and a puzzled expression on her face. "there was no one at the door," she said. "only this basket. it has your name on it, wilhelmina." miss billy lifted the cover and peered in. "what on earth!" she began. she lifted out a curious little package labelled "miss margaret van courtland." "this is evidently for you," she said as she peered in again. "but there are a whole lot of others. one for each of us." she distributed the parcels to the party, while margaret dubiously opened the square bundle that had been handed to her. a small pasteboard box labelled "burke's peerage" was exposed to view. the following poem accompanied it: "a maiden named peggy van c---- sailed far from new york state and me! and she played the pianner, and won prize and banner, in ev'ry conservato-ree. "but my honest american name she spurned to my sorrow and shame, for she said 'i shan't marry with tom, dick and harry, i'm looking for much higher game. "'with my excellent banking account to royalty's height i may mount.' she ran into her fate, but discovered too late he was called in burke's book--no (a) count." "congratulations, ted," said margaret. "i recognise your dainty touch in this." ted looked innocent. "why should all blame and anger dread fall straight upon my luckless head?" he murmured. "john thomas, i see you drew a prize. what is it?" john thomas had been examining his parcel, and his face was very red. he held up two scarlet hearts impaled on a long tin arrow. "i don't want to read the po'try," he said bashfully. "oh, yes," begged miss billy. "go on, john thomas. what do _you_ care? it's all in fun." the boy unfolded the paper obediently. "he lives next door to billy lee, he smiles at her incessantly, his name they say is hennes-sy, and john. "he little knows her temper bad, he's never seen her when she's mad. misguided youth! his lot is sad,---- poor john." "nonsense," said miss billy. "your sentiments are as bad as your poetry, ted. what's yours, bea?" beatrice had a pair of huge scarlet carpet slippers, ornamented with a large bow of ribbon. theodore read the verses: "a pair of red slippers hung high in a shop, sing hey for the slippers so red! and a maid passed that way and i saw the maid stop, 'i'll buy me the slippers,' she said. "the pair of red slippers came down from the shelf, sing hey for the slippers so small! and the maiden remarked, undertone, to herself, 'they'll look awful swell at a ball.' "the pair of red slippers were jaunty and low, sing hey for the slippers so gay! 'but i don't want buckles, i wanted a bow,' i heard the maid woefully say. "the pair of red slippers were wrapped up and tied, sing hey for the pocketbook low! and a youth who was near sauntered home at her side, so the maid got the slippers and beau." marie jean unwrapped her package with an expectant expression. a large beet, cut in half, and carefully stuck together with toothpicks surrounded the following verse: "there's a secret in my heart, sweet marie, a tale i would impart, love, to thee. every lad in cherry street kneels in ardour at thy feet, you've a face that can't be beet, sweet marie." "i never heard such wretched puns," declared margaret. "there's one consolation,--there _can't_ be anything worse than that. what's yours, mr. francis?" francis bowed gallantly to miss billy. "ladies first," he said. a small green watering pot was unrolled from a newspaper, and several verses tumbled out. "mistress billy, pray don't be chilly! how does your garden grow? with beautiful posies and lilies and roses, and sunflowers all in a row. "mistress billy i must rhyme--willy nilly,-- how does your garden grow? with small smiling faces all found in their places and little ones all in a row. "mistress billy, don't think me silly thus does your garden grow, with hard work and duty and sweetness and beauty, and faith, hope, and love in a row." miss billy's voice shook a little as she finished reading, and there was something suspiciously shiny in her eyes as she glanced at her brother. but ted was looking serenely the other way. francis' package held a fat pocketbook labelled: "sing a song of sixpence. pocketful of mon., rent day francis has it all, cherry street has none. never mind! his praises loud cherry street doth sing-- francis may not be a count, but he is a king." "goodness!" said the reader, "i don't know whether i dare eat another cake after that. i'm already bursting with _pride_; miss billy, won't you share this with me?" he held out the last pancake on the plate invitingly. miss billy's knife divided it evenly and a slender circlet tinkled out on the dish. "the ring!" said marie jean. "you'll have to draw lots." "or else share your fate," suggested margaret. "now me," said ted in a tone of mock anticipation. "you haven't seen my souvenir yet." he unrolled a box of french bonbons, and passed it around the table, as he read: "there was a young person named ted. 'i'll write some fine doggerel,' he said. but his verse read aloud in the midst of the crowd was all pronounced mongrel instead." "and that's the truest one of all," said margaret. chapter xxii waiting "the strange white solitude of peace that settles over all." "if it was anybody else but miss billy," sighed mrs. canary. mrs. hennesy pulled her shawl down over her swollen eyes, and made no reply. "i've just been in there, an' her fever's higher. she just raved an' tossed all night," went on mrs. canary. "i was on me way there, now," said mrs. hennesy,--"but i guess i'll not go in, afther hearing how she is. folks around a sick house is only a clutter." "i know it,--but i can't hardly keep away. seems as if i _must_ do something fer that poor lamb, after all the times she's helped me, takin' care of the childurn an' all. she's just worked herself to death tryin' to keep cherry street clean, an' all this summer, that's what she has,--an' no pertic'lar thanks fer it, neither." "i guess it's not all work that's done it," said mrs. hennesy significantly. "it's that ould ciss-pool between us and the lee's that's been p'isoning her. the wondher is we're not all dead. and afther all the times we've spoke about it to old man schultzsky, too. well, i hope he'll mate his reward in the nixt wurld, if he don't in this." "do you know, they say he feels awful bad about it. just walks 'round like a hen on a hot griddle. don't ask fer no news of her, but just can't settle down easy anywhere. i should think he _would_ be _prosterated_ with grief! an' he wouldn't be the only one! everybody on the street feels the same way. her sickness has just cast a shadder over everything. i never seen the beat of it." mrs. hennesy's broad irish face grew almost beautiful in its tenderness. "i feel like she was wan av me own," she said softly. "no wan, not even the dear child herself, knows what she has done for us! john thomas hasn't spoke a word about the house for a wake. miss billy has done wondhers for that bye. if you could see him workin' over his lessons, an' tidyin' up the yard, an' trainin' up the few bits of vines he's planted! an' mary jane, she didn't like her at first, but sure her heart is broke now. as for mr. hennesy and mesilf,--well, there's no way to tell how we feel about it." "i guess we're all mournin' together," said mrs. canary. "mr. canary wouldn't tech fish fer dinner,--holly belle is all stuffed up with tears, an' friddie hangs round their door till i just expect mis' lee'll throw water on him to git red of him. the children are all a-prayin' for her ev'ry night, an' if god kin resest their innercent pleadin' it's more'n i could do." "it's cherry street that's nadin' her more than hivin does," said mrs. hennesy. "i guess it does!" exclaimed mrs. canary fervently. "we can't do without her. the children just fairly adore her image, the big boys and girls all love her, and the fathers and mothers need her the most of all. if she'd never done a thing fer us but to show that pretty smile of hers, an' let us see her eyes shine, an' hear her sweet voice, we'd miss her enough: but rememberin' all she _has_ done----" words failed the good woman, and her sentence ended abruptly. "i suppose there's not a thing a person could do to help," said mrs. hennesy. "not a thing. the house is full of flowers, and things to eat. they've got a nurse that looks like striped stick candy, an' two doctors, an' more offers of help than they know what to do with. there ain't a thing _we_ can do but watch--an' pray. an' if the lord sees fit to call her home----" but mrs. hennesy, drawing the shawl again over her eyes, turned away. * * * * * the mist of indian summer lay like a veil over cherry street. out in the garden miss billy's flowers were still blooming. the vines were breaking into crisp little tendrils about her window, the la france rose bush was heavy with buds, and the grass was as green and tender as when her feet had last pressed it. miss billy's friend, the bulldog, slept serenely on the lee porch, and her canary trilled softly in the autumn sunshine. life seemed to have vanished from the street itself. down near the levi house two wooden saw-horses and a plank had been placed across the road to block all traffic, and policeman canary paced back and forth to ward off intruders. grocery boys and butcher lads came and went on foot, and the children who played in the back yards were hushed and subdued by watchful parents "for miss billy's sake." silence reigned everywhere, and the chirping of the twittering sparrows, that _could_ not be hushed, was the only sound that broke the stillness. upstairs, in the little green room, where the only movement was the stirring of the thin curtains in the soft wind, lay the girl herself. the active feet were quiet, the busy hands were folded and the dancing eyes were closed. there was nothing about the passive figure that was like miss billy. even the mass of copper-brown hair had been cut away. but this death-like stupor was less terrifying than the intervals of raging fever in which miss billy laughed, sang and talked, and lived over and over again her girlish trials and hopes and fears. "it's such hard work," she would say, tossing restlessly from side to side in the little bed. "such hard work! mr. schultzsky, it's a lie, i tell you. he didn't hit your horse, i saw it all! it's a lie, i tell you. i didn't mean to hurt you! it's my fault, though, not ted's!... oh, ted, you didn't need to step on my grass seed. why won't you let things grow? it's so hot, so hot, here. beatrice, you needn't be so mean! he's a friend of mine. why won't you be kind to him? please do, please do. he's helped me so." then the busy brain would go back to the old life: "myrtle blanchard called us poor. i don't want to be poor. i hate it. i hate cherry street! i hate heat! i'm _so_ tired!" it was when the fever was at its height that the family first guessed the depth of miss billy's feeling, for in her delirium she talked wildly of wanting to go back "home," away from cherry street, to where everything was "quiet and clean." she longed for margaret's home-coming, and begged piteously that the blanchards might not "come in." and then the wild look would disappear, and she would drop back on the pillow with the same old pathetic cry: "i'm so tired. _so_ tired." so day after day passed. delirium, restlessness, pain and weakness filled miss billy's waking hours, and the only peace came when she sank into a deep stupor, which was almost as fearful to the watchers. the work of the improvement club had been abandoned. ted applied himself industriously to school, and beatrice found her only comfort in doing housework that gave her no time to think, and left her so physically tired at night that sleep came, after all. mrs. van courtland almost lived at the house, and margaret, francis and john thomas came daily, to hear the reports and bring comfort and help. the members of the child garden hung about the gate, begging for news, mrs. hennesy waylaid the doctor each morning, and mrs. levi sent moses to the door with a new dainty every day. the life on cherry street seemed to centre about the one small room in the old-fashioned house, and the whole street waited and hoped while the autumn sped, and miss billy grew no better. it was after one of the worst days that beatrice crept out of the room, with her heart full, and her eyes overflowing with tears. she felt her way blindly downstairs, and almost bumped into francis, who was standing in the dark hall. "i didn't ring," he said. "how _is_ the little girl?" beatrice sat down on the stairs, and grasped the railing tightly as though its dumb wood could offer her some help and support. "worse," she said. francis' face looked his sympathy. "_how_ is she worse?" he asked. "she's been raving for two hours. dr. lane has sent for dr. howitt. her temperature has never been so high." "is she in great--danger?" beatrice nodded. "they don't say so, but----" her voice failed her. "is there anything i can do?" "not a thing. the nurse is there, and mother and father don't leave her for an instant. she doesn't even need me. if there was anything to be done,--but to sit and wait is so awful!--i'm going down now to make a cup of tea for mother. she looks like a ghost." "and so do you, poor little girl." he laid his strong brown hand over the small white one on the railing. beatrice sat still for a moment, and then, laying her head on her arm, cried her heart out. "i can't give her up," she sobbed wildly. "i can't! i can't! i never knew before what she was to me. and all this summer when she has been toiling away over her children and the weeds and the street, i have sat and criticised, and discouraged her. i have been so selfish, so small and so mean! oh, i don't deserve to have miss billy, but if she lives, i'll love god all my life. i can't spare her now." francis laid his hand softly upon the bowed golden head, and waited until the paroxysm of sobs had passed. "i can't tell you how sorry i am," he said gently. "i love miss billy, too, you know. but there is nothing for us to do but wait and--hope. i shan't give up yet. come down with me and let me make you the tea. you need it as much as your mother." the night came down softly on cherry street. the shadows deepened and the silver crescent of the new moon appeared in the sky. dr. howitt arrived and went immediately to the sick room. the nurse passed through the hall with a glass of wine. supper was announced, and was cleared away untasted. beatrice and theodore sat silently in the study. at nine o'clock the nurse came down the stairs again. "mrs. lee says for you both to go to bed. she will call you if there's the slightest change. if you can get any sleep, so much the better. and mr. theodore, there's a boy out in the yard." beatrice obediently followed the nurse upstairs, and ted went quietly out of the door. a dark figure could be dimly seen striding up and down in the faint light cast from miss billy's room. theodore rounded the porch, and stopped the shadowy form in its march. it was john thomas. "how is she?" he whispered. ted shook his head despairingly, without a word. "you'd better go to bed," said john thomas. "so had you," returned ted. "i can't sleep," exclaimed the figure. ted turned stiffly. "neither can i," he said. his feet seemed to tangle in the wet grass as he walked toward the house again. "so long," said john thomas hoarsely. "so long," returned theodore. a restless sleep had just fallen on theodore when there was a light rap on the door. "come," said the nurse. "there is a change. your mother has sent for you. as quiet as possible, please." the boy flung on his bath robe, and hurried into the hall. beatrice had just come out from her room. the sister and brother clasped hands and went on together. in miss billy's room the light had been turned very low. dr. howitt had gone. the family doctor stood near the window. mr. lee sat by the bedside with a look upon his worn face that the children had never seen. his wife was on her knees, with one of the pale hands clasped in her own, as though the mother's grasp would hold the child in spite of death. a soft grey shadow seemed to have fallen over miss billy's face, and she lay in deep stupor. the little group gathered around the bed, and waited. the minutes slowly passed, miss billy's small clock ticking them off with an intensity that was almost painful. * * * * * the grey light began to grow in the eastern window, and a soft breeze blew in from the lake. the glimmer of the lamp paled as the room grew lighter. afar off a dog barked, and one of mr. hennesy's roosters heralded the coming of the new day. the first glow of red light had appeared in the sky, when miss billy moved slightly in the bed. "mother," she whispered. then she opened her eyes wide, with a hint of the old-time smile. "has the morning come?" she asked. "i've had bad dreams." chapter xxiii conclusion "against the whiteness of the wall be living verdure seen,-- sweet summer memories to recall, and keep your christmas green." all through the long hot summer months miss billy had been doing what she could for cherry street. now cherry street was doing what it could for miss billy. "grass, is it, she'd be afther loikin' to see, whin she gits up?" said mr. hennesy. "sure an' we're ploughin' good sod undher iv'ry day av our lives,--loads av it. john thomas, see that ye bring home a wagon load of it 'ach noight, an' o'il be doin' the same." john thomas brought the sod, and the street fell to with a will. dusk fell earlier than in the summer, but there was still time left after the day's labour was over and the supper cleared away. the children dug and raked the hard soil, and the men rolled the velvety sod into strips of green parking bordering the sidewalks, and spread it into green lawns in their own dooryards. the enthusiasm spread like a fever. aaron levi's father brought home a can of paint, and began experimentally to turn his shabby brown house into a white house with green blinds. the street beheld, and hurried to do likewise, scarcely waiting for francis' assurance that every cent of expense should be taken off the rent. every house was freshly painted,--and because the underlying thought was of miss billy, and because they thought she would like it so, they painted uniformly white, with green blinds. besides all this, down the middle of the street a score of men, day after day, threw up the rocky soil into long mounds, and at last the sewer pipe that was to connect with every dwelling, was laid, with all cherry street looking into the hole, as if it had been the dedication of a church. no more cesspools and typhoid fever for cherry street! it had been too near to losing miss billy. but mr. schultzsky would have made the concession for none other. the street improvement club, cast at first into the depths of despair at their brave little captain's grave illness, and raised now to heights of enthusiasm by her convalescence, were everywhere! chewing gum wrappers were voted a nuisance: paper bags were frowned upon: banana skins were not to be tolerated: tomato cans were a crime! everywhere over the street presided a new goddess,--the goddess of cleanliness,--while the girl who had wrought the change lay in the little green room, being slowly nursed back to life. it was after the improvement club, under the advice of francis, had taken the proceeds of the lawn social from the little tin box, and invested it in young shade trees, that proudly skirted the sidewalks twenty feet apart, that francis snapped his final picture from the head of the street. after it was developed he compared it to that other taken on the august morning. the results appeared to satisfy him. "they are an object lesson," he said, "fit to point a moral or adorn a tale," and he mailed them in a big official looking envelope to "peter hanson, florist,--new york,--prize street competition." it was this very day, too, that miss billy was placed in an easy chair, and taken to the window for the first time since her illness. "oh, it's such a green world, motherie mine; such a beautiful, sunny, green world, that it hurts my eyes. and--why--but everything wasn't all green like that when i went to bed. what can have happened!" "that is enough for to-day," said the nurse authoritatively, and miss billy was put back to bed. but she had caught a glimpse of mr. schultzsky's house, and it was painted white!--of the little bohemian maid swinging placidly to and fro in the rocking chair on an immaculate little white porch!--of a stretch of restful green grass, where before had been weeds!--and right in the middle of the front yard had bloomed a huge tub of scarlet geraniums! ("she will like to see that," francis had said,--and through the long beautiful fall which stretched into december, he had placed a covering over the flowers every night to protect them from possible frosts.) miss billy had seen, and two hectic spots of excitement burned on her cheeks. "cherry street is remodelled, inside and out," said mrs. lee gently. "francis has made mr. schultzsky see the expense of it in the light of a sound business proposition, and the rest of it has been done by the people themselves, for love of you. but there, little daughter,--it's nothing to cry about!" "i'm not crying," said miss billy valiantly, the big tears chasing each other down her cheeks. "don't you see that i'm laughing, and happy, and thankful? oh, it is so nice to come back to this dear, beautiful world!" there were informal receptions held in the little green room as she grew daily stronger. marie jean, still with the trailing dresses, but with the heavy frizzes forever gone,--john thomas, freckled of face and worshipful, alert to miss billy's slightest wish,--mr. hennesy, brimful of cheer and whimsical philosophy,--mrs. hennesy, overflowing with kindness and neighbourly apologies,--mr. schultzsky, stoical, yet changed,--holly belle, who whispered with shy blushes that beside her finger exercises miss margaret had given her a "piece," with variations: and every day margaret and francis, and the members of the improvement club, who sat about and gazed at miss billy restored to them and were thankful. it was the eighteenth of december when the first snow came sifting down. it covered the green lawns, and wrapped the young shade trees, and whitened the roofs of the little white houses. and not till then did cherry street remember that summer was gone and christmas was near. "we'll have a christmas tree big enough for everybody," said theodore. "john thomas and i will go out and buy the largest we can find, and set it up in the parlour." "oh, it will be fine," said margaret, clapping her hands. "let us get at it right away." the christmas tree was brought, a noble fir,--and set up in the corner of the parlour amidst much bustle and confusion and laughter. john thomas popped the corn, miss billy threaded it in whitened strings, francis tacked up the evergreen boughs and holly, while beatrice assisted,--a pretty picture with the heavy foliage held high above her head, and her sleeves falling away from her white arms. margaret, in the kitchen, was aiding maggie in making the cherished christmas "pfeffernes," and as the little german cakes baked, the sweet spicy smell filled the air. theodore, on a stepladder, was hanging the mistletoe. "it smells christmassy already," he announced hungrily. "why doesn't margaret make a bushel of those things? i could eat all she has there at one bite. marie jean, just hand me up a bit of that red ribbon, will you?" marie jean's long arm stretched up the ladder, and theodore leaned down. there was a resounding smack, and marie jean, with a scream of agitation, tripped over a rug and fell headlong into the arms of the christmas tree. "land o' love!" she ejaculated, extricating herself from the branches. "theodore lee, i've a mind to slap you." "the mistletoe hung in the castle hall, the holly branch shone on the old oak wall," recited theodore, putting as much feeling as he could into it without swallowing the tacks in his mouth. "marie jean, i expect to slay my thousands under this thing. but if you'd like to slap me, you can come again and try it." "no, thanks," said marie jean, settling her ruffled plumage with dignity. "now," went on the irrepressible theodore, "if good kris kringle will only hang a wig on the christmas tree for miss billy,--nothing expensive or rich, of course, like her own hair was--but----" involuntarily miss billy's hands flew up to her shorn locks, but john thomas came sturdily to the defence. "miss billy's a heap prettier with her hair short like that, and curling all over her head in little rings. she wasn't half so pretty when it was long." "john thomas," said theodore, with a pitying stare, "it's my opinion that you would think miss billy handsome if she was as bald as a chinese mandarin. it's a prominent symptom of the disease." john thomas returned abruptly to his popcorn, and miss billy, in the absence of anything better, and with a flash of the old time fire in her eyes, threw a handful of popcorn at the tormentor. "perhaps you would like to sample these cakes," said margaret, standing floury and smiling in the doorway, with a plate in her hand. "francis, it is less than six months ago that you and i sat in the mud of a side street in cologne, while a rain of these lovely little cakes fell about our devoted heads. i little thought i should be making some for you at christmas time." "we cannot foretell the future," said theodore solemnly. "next christmas--who knows?--we may all be in 'der faderland,' honourable attachees of the household of the count and countess lindsay. miss billy can be 'lady in waiting,' and hold up your sky-blue green pink train, margaret,--and john thomas can be buttons at the front door----" "the last five months have certainly been an unexpected and pleasant experience for me," interrupted francis. "but play time is over. i shall be off for new york saturday." "to stay--forever?" appealed miss billy piteously. "oh, francis,--i can't spare you." there were tears in her eyes, and he took the small white hand between his own brown palms. "not forever, miss billy," he said gently. "i hope to come back again,--many times; and some of the goodness, and brightness, and helpfulness of cherry street shall always be with me, wherever i am." "and i," said margaret, with a little sigh, "shall return to cologne next month; i, too, shall miss cherry street, but nothing shall sadden me now that billy is well." "i have a lump in my throat as i dwell upon the inevitableness of human destiny," said theodore. "but honestly, lindsay, we shall miss you. as for you, margaret, "maid of _col_-ogne, ere we part, give, o give me back my heart." "you gave it to marie jean the night of the lawn social," rejoined margaret promptly. "i didn't want it, you know,--it was so warm and sticky." "and i didn't know what to do with it, so i ate it," said marie jean, with a giggle. "i remember it was flavoured with peppermint." "cannibal!" murmured theodore,--and lapsed into injured silence. beatrice and francis had returned to the holly wreaths. "we shall be sorry to have you go," she said, her eyes on the branches in her lap. "what you said about cherry street made me want to cry. i, certainly, in the past, have not been a part of the goodness and brightness and helpfulness. before you go, let me tell you i am sorry for everything." "and i am glad." he took from her lap as he spoke a bit of the holly and broke it in two. "keep this," he said, "and i shall keep the other half, 'sweet summer memories to recall,'--till i come again." christmas eve fell softly upon cherry street wrapped in its snowy mantle, with a pale silver moon like a crescent of promise, shining low down in the west. "when i saw it last," said holly belle, "it was over my left shoulder, and i thought miss billy was goin' to die." "an' i heard the death tick in the wall," said mrs. canary, "an' dreampt of white horses three nights hand runnin'. i never knew the signs to fail before." "signs can't hurt miss billy," said holly belle with conviction, as she hastened the little canarys into their holiday attire. "she don't believe in 'em--nor dream books, nor nothin'. an' i ain't a-goin' to after this, neither." "holly belle," said mrs. canary impressively, "the night yer grandfather died i was a sittin' there by the window----" "i don't care," broke in holly belle stoutly: ("fridoline, hold up yer chin! how can i fasten yer necktie when yer leanin' it down like that!)--i don't care fer all the old signs in the world. miss billy don't believe in 'em, an' i ain't a-goin' to, neither." in the hennesy home, mr. hennesy had brought out the ancient coat, and was struggling into one of john thomas's collars. it was fastened at last, and mr. hennesy regarded his appearance in the glass with interest. "all oi do be nadin'," he commented, "is a check rein from the top av me head to me shoulder blades, to make me be lookin' loike a four-year-old colt. john thomas, wan av these days whin ye go to bite off a bit av tough mate, ye'll hit on wan av these aidges an' cut yer jugglery vein. moind now, what o'im sayin'." [illustration: "all oi do be nadin'" ... "is a check rein from the top av me head to me shoulder blades."] at number cherry street there was warmth and light and glow. out in the kitchen the smiling maggie presided over two boilers of coffee and a table full of iced cakes and confections. as the guests began to arrive the folding doors between the minister's study and the parlour were thrown open, and the christmas tree, glowing with coloured balls and wax tapers, stood revealed. the street improvement club, to a man, greeted the glittering spectacle with delight, but the ecstasy of some of the younger members became suddenly extinguished in their mothers' skirts at the sudden appearance of an exceedingly corpulent saint nicholas in the parlour door. "ladies and gentlemen,--members of the street improvement club and fellow citizens:" began the jolly saint, keeping his whiskers applied with one hand, and gesticulating gracefully with the other;--"owing to a stringency in the money market, this tree is mostly made up of tarlatan bags containing nuts, candy and popcorn, with verses of excellent poetry thrown in. you will observe that the greater share of the gifts seem to be for the children, and for young ladies between the ages of sixteen and twenty,--but there are a few trinkets for all, and plenty of good will beside." here the good saint paused, and was obliged to hold on his whiskers with both hands, and he viewed the facial contortions of ikey levi, who wanted to cry and was afraid the saint might not like it. "i find here, attached to one of the most prominent branches," went on saint nicholas, "a charming female savage in a short skirt and a feather head-dress. it is marked 'for marie jean hennesy, from theodore l--.' it also bears this inscription: "this tender maid of dusky shade, eats lovers' hearts,--beware! she'll take them raw, like cabbage slaw, or overdone or rare. "will miss hennesy step up to receive her gift? i regret that mr. theodore cannot be with us this evening to receive his thanks in person. "here also, is a beautiful toy omnibus, from the same benevolent source, with a pair of spirited horses attached, and a handsome driver atop. it is marked 'miss billy,' and the following tender verse accompanies it: "a maiden once reasoned her thus-- 'i think i shall hire a whole bus:' she rode on the top, and the people did stop and declared that it couldn't be wuss! "i regret that i do not find a snuff box on the boughs for herr lindsay. in its absence i shall beg him to accept the trifling gift of this tin trumpet, that he may be able to blow his own horn when he is far away, and cherry street can no longer blow it for him. is mr. lindsay present?" the gifts were being rapidly distributed, and the jolly saint's charming speeches could no longer be heard above the happy talk and laughter. holly belle hugged a leather music roll and a copy of "five little peppers" to her breast, ikey levi played the long roll on a red drum, pius coffey made his toilet before the wee-est of pocket mirrors, with the wee-est of pocket combs, and beatrice held a single long-stemmed american beauty rose in her hand, when saint nicholas rapped loudly for order. "i find here, on the very topmost bough," he announced, "a blue envelope addressed to miss wilhelmina lee, president of cherry street improvement club. open it and read it aloud, miss billy." miss billy cut the sealed edge, and a slip of blue paper fluttered to the floor. then with surprise, delight, excitement and wavering distrust in her tones, she read aloud the following letter: "new york, _december , --_. "miss wilhelmina lee, "_president improvement club, "cherry street, j---- city_. "dear madam:-- "we herewith enclose you our check for one hundred dollars, as agreed by us in our prize offer of august last. the pictures you sent easily won the prize for marked street improvement, although there were many competitors. wishing you all success in your work, "we are "very respectfully, "peter hanson & co., "florists, new york." "is it a joke?" said miss billy, looking at saint nicholas as if she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. but the good saint, holding his whiskers in his hand in the excitement of the moment, had stooped to the floor for the bit of blue paper, and was examining it closely in the glow of the tree. "it's genuine, all right," he answered. "it's peter hanson's check for one hundred dollars on the first national bank of new york." "it came this afternoon," said francis smilingly,--"and knowing what it might be, i received it and put it on the tree for you. i took the last snap shot and sent it away while you were ill, miss billy." a prolonged, mighty, deafening cheer went up from the assembled throats of the improvement club,--a glorified cheer,--a cheer of triumph, pride, and growing strength, with cat-calls innumerable tacked on to the end. the astonished maggie, entering the door with a tray piled high with plates and napkins, was brushed lightly aside by mr. hennesy. "clare the middle av the room," he shouted in stentorian tones: "i'm a-goin' to cut a pigeon wing." "three cheers for miss billy," proposed francis. "and now a tiger for francis," returned miss billy, and the hubbub, but just ended, rose again. "an' another fer the frinds av the club," said mr. hennesy, shaking hands right and left with everybody. saint nicholas, with his whiskers readjusted, rapped once more for order. "let me suggest, my friends," he said, "that we give one last lusty cheer for cherry street. one, two, three--_now_!" the end * * * * * dorothy south a love story of virginia before the war by george cary eggleston author of "a carolina cavalier" illustrated by c.d. williams. mo, dark red cloth, portrait cover, rough edges, gilt top, $ . this distinguished author gives us a most fascinating picture of virginia's golden age, her fair sons and daughters, beautiful, picturesque homes, and the luxurious, bountiful life of the old-school gentleman. dorothy south has been described in these characteristic words by frank r. stockton: "learned, lovely; musical, lovely; loving, lovely; so goes dorothy through the book, and sad would be the fate of poor arthur brent, and all of us, if she could be stolen out of it." this is a typically pretty story, clear and sweet and pure as the southern sky. lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * a carolina cavalier a romance of the carolinas by george cary eggleston bound in red silk cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. six drawings by c.d. williams. size, × - / . price $ . a strong, delightful romance of revolutionary days, most characteristic of its vigorous author, george cary eggleston. the story is founded on absolute happenings and certain old papers of the historic rutledges of carolina. as a love story, it is sweet and true; and as a patriotic novel it is grand and inspiring. the historic setting, and the fact that it is distinctively and enthusiastically american, have combined to win instant success for the book. louisville courier journal: "a fine story of adventure, teeming with life and aglow with color." cleveland world: "there is action, plot, and fire. love and valor and loyalty play a part that enhances one's respect for human nature." baltimore sun: "the story is full of movement. it is replete with adventure. it is saturated with love." lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * the master of warlock by george cary eggleston, author of "dorothy south," "a carolina cavalier." six illustrations by c.d. williams. mo. dark red cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. price, $ . each. "the master of warlock" has an interesting plot, and is full of purity of sentiment, charm of atmosphere, and stirring doings. one of the typical family feuds of virginia separates the lovers at first; but, when the hero goes to the war, the heroine undergoes many hardships and adventures to serve him, and they are happily united in the end. * * * * * dorothy south a story of virginia just before the war baltimore sun says: "no writer in the score and more of novelists now exploiting the southern field can, for a moment, compare in truth and interest to mr. eggleston. in the novel before us we have a peculiarly interesting picture of the virginian in the late fifties. we are taken into the life of the people. we are shown the hearts of men and women. characters are dearly drawn, and incidents are skilfully presented." * * * * * a carolina cavalier a stirring tale of war and adventure philadelphia home advocate says: "as a love story, 'a carolina cavalier' is sweet and true; but as a patriotic novel, it is grand and inspiring. we have seldom found a stronger and simpler appeal to our manhood and love of country." lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * what the critics say of _the_ spenders by harry leon wilson, author of "the lions of the lord." red silk cloth, rough edges, picture cover. six illustrations by rose cecil o'neill. size, - / by - / . postpaid, $ . . th thousand. harry thurston peck, in the _new york american_, says: "the very best two books written by americans during the past year have been 'the spenders,' by harry leon wilson, and 'the pit,' by frank norris." mark twain writes to the author: "it cost me my day yesterday. you owe me $ . but never mind, i forgive you for the book's sake." louisville courier-journal says: "if there is such a thing as the american novel of a new method, this is one. absolutely to be enjoyed is it from the first page to the last, founded on the elemental truth that 'the man is the strongest who, ancæan-like, stands with his feet upon the earth.' it is the strong tale of three generations, and told in the romances of the grandson and granddaughter of the original rugged pioneer of the western country, peter bines." the bookman says: "uncle peter is a well-drawn, interesting, picturesque, and, above all, a genuine american product.... the dénouement is one that would be well worth reading for, even if the body of the book were dull." brooklyn daily eagle says: "it is coruscating in wit, daring in love, and biting in its palpable caricature of many well-known persons in new york society; but it is so very much more than a clever society novel making the bid of audacity for ephemeral craze." chicago record-herald says: "very few novels of the day have the sterling strength, the force, and the roomy outlook of harry leon wilson's 'the spenders.' every page of it is virile, and, what is more, it combines true insight into men with a strong humor." christian herald says: "the character drawing throughout the book is masterly, but peter bines deserves a slab in the literary hall of fame." lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * the lions of the lord by harry leon wilson author of "the spenders." six illustrations by rose cecil o'neill, bound in dark green cloth, illustrated cover, mo. $ . , postpaid. in his romance of the old west, "the lions of the lord," mr. wilson, whose "the spenders" is one of the successes of the present year, shows an advance in strength and grasp both in art and life. it is a thrilling tale of the mormon settlement of salt lake city, with all its grotesque comedy, grim tragedy, and import to american civilization. the author's feeling for the western scenery affords him an opportunity for many graphic pen pictures, and he is equally strong in character and in description. for the first time in a novel is the tragi-comedy of the mormon development adequately set forth. nothing fresher or more vital has been produced by a native novelist. * * * * * the spenders by harry leon wilson th thousand author of "the lions of the lord." red silk cloth, rough edges, picture cover. six illustrations by rose cecil o'neill. mo. $ . , postpaid. mark twain writes to the author: "it cost me my day yesterday. you owe me $ . but never mind, i forgive you for the book's sake." louisville courier-journal says: "if there is such a thing as the american novel of a new method, this is one. absolutely to be enjoyed is it from the first page to the last." harry thurston peck, in the new york american, says: "the very best two books written by americans during the past year have been 'the spenders,' by harry leon wilson, and 'the pit,' by frank norris." lothrop publishing company, boston * * * * * jezebel a romance in the days when ahab was king by lafayette mclaws author of "when the land was young" illustrated by corwin k. linson. mo, red cloth, illustrated cover, rough edges, $ . the promise in miss mclaws's first book has been more than realized in "jezebel," a work of singular power and insight. it is a biblical tale of the days when elijah was a prophet of jehovah. when ahab comes to the throne, and jezebel, his wife, sets up the worship of baal, the prophets and believers of israel are incensed against the queen; and jezebel begins a fierce persecution of her enemies. this contest is the chief motive of the story. miss mclaws presents this strong-willed, beautiful queen in a novel and striking manner; the book is replete with dramatic situations, the action is rapid and stirring, and the dénouement is original and startling. lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * when the land was young being the true romance of mistress antoinette huguenin and captain jack middleton by lafayette mclaws. bound in green cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. six drawings by will crawford size, × - / . price, $ . [illustration] the heroine, antoinette huguenin, a beauty of king louis' court, is one of the most attractive figures in romance; while lumulgee, the great war chief of the choctaws, and sir henry morgan, the buccaneer knight and terror of the spanish main, divide the honors with hero and heroine. the time was full of border wars between the spaniards of florida and the english colonists, and against this historical background miss mclaws has thrown a story that is absorbing, dramatic, and brilliant. new york world: "lovely mistress antoinette huguenin! what a girl she is!" new york journal: "a story of thrill and adventure." savannah news: "among the entertaining romances based upon the colonial days of american history this novel will take rank as one of the most notable--a dramatic and brilliant story." st. louis globe-democrat: "if one is anxious for a thrill, he has only to read a few pages of 'when the land was young' to experience the desired sensation.... there is action of the most virile type throughout the romance.... it is vividly told, and presents a realistic picture of the days 'when the land was young.'" lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * the captain by churchill williams, author of "j. devlin--boss." illustrated by a.i. keller. mo. dark red cloth, decorative cover, rough edges. price, $ . each. who is the captain? thousands of readers of this fine book will be asking. it is a story of love and war, of scenes and characters before and daring the great civil conflict. it has lots of color and movement, and the splendid figure naming the book dominates the whole. * * * * * j. devlin--boss a romance of american politics. blue cloth, decorative cover. mo. price, $ . . mary e. wilkins says: "i am delighted with your book. of all the first novels, i believe yours is the very best. the novel is american to the core. the spirit of the times is in it. it is inimitably clever. it is an amazing first novel, and no one except a real novelist could have written it." lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * judith's garden by mary e. stone bassett with illustrations in color by george wright. text printed in two colors throughout, with special ornamentation. vo, light green silk cloth, rough edges, gilt top, $ . an exquisite, delicious, charming book, as fresh as new-mown hay, as fragrant as the odor from the garden of the gods. it is the story of a garden, a woman, and a man. the woman is delicate and refined, witty, and interesting; the man is irish, funny, original, happy,--a delicious and perfect foil to the woman. his brogue is stunning, and his wit infectious and fetching. the garden is quite all right. there is movement in the book; life is abundant, and it attracts. it will catch the interest of every lover of flowers,--and their name is legion,--and will delight and comfort every reader. lothrop publishing company--boston * * * * * the kidnapped millionaires a story of wall street and mexico by frederick u. adams. mo, cloth, $ . one of the most timely and startling stories of the day. a plan to form a great newspaper trust, evolved in the brain of an enterprising special correspondent, leads to the kidnapping of certain leading metropolitan millionaires and marooning them luxuriously on a mexican headland; the results--the panic in wall street, the search for the kidnapped millionaires, their discovery and rescue are the chief motives of the story, which has to do also with trusts, syndicates, newspaper methods, and all the great monetary problems and financial methods of the day. the story is full of adventure, full of humor, and full of action and surprises, while the romance that develops in its progress is altogether charming and delightful. lothrop publishing company--boston [transcriber's note: obvious printer errors and spelling/punctuation inconsistencies have been corrected without note.] transcriber's note: archaic and variable spelling, as well as inconsistency in hyphenation, has been preserved as printed in the original book. [illustration: "oh, josiah," sez i, "what a sight!"--_frontispiece_. page .] around the world with josiah allen's wife by marietta holley author of "samantha at the st. louis exposition," "my opinion and betsey bobbets'," "samantha at saratoga," "samantha at the world's fair," etc. illustrations by h. m. pettit g. w. dillingham company publishers new york copyright, , and , by marietta holley. entered at stationers' hall, london, england. (issued september, .) around the world with josiah allen's wife. j. j. little & ives co. new york around the world with josiah allen's wife chapter i our son, thomas jefferson, and his wife, maggie, have been wadin' through a sea of trouble. he down with inflamatory rumatiz so a move or jar of any kind, a fly walkin' over the bedclothes, would most drive him crazy; and she with nervious prostration, brought on i spoze by nussin' her pardner and her youngest boy, thomas josiah (called tommy), through the measles, that had left him that spindlin' and weak-lunged that the doctor said the only thing that could tone up his system and heal his lungs and save his life would be a long sea voyage. he had got to be got away from the cold fall blasts of jonesville to once. oh! how i felt when i heard that ultimatum and realized his danger, for tommy wuz one of my favorites. grandparents ort not to have favorites, but i spoze they will as long as the world turns on its old axletrys. he looks as thomas j. did when he wuz his age and i married his pa and took the child to my heart, and got his image printed there so it won't never rub off through time or eternity. tommy is like his pa and he hain't like him; he has his pa's old ways of truthfulness and honesty, and deep--why good land! there hain't no tellin' how deep that child is. he has got big gray-blue eyes, with long dark lashes that kinder veil his eyes when he's thinkin'; his hair is kinder dark, too, about the color his pa's wuz, and waves and crinkles some, and in the crinkles it seems as if there wuz some gold wove into the brown. he has got a sweet mouth, and one that knows how to stay shet too; he hain't much of a talker, only to himself; he'll set and play and talk to himself for hours and hours, and though he's affectionate, he's a independent child; if he wants to know anything the worst kind he will set and wonder about it (he calls it wonner). he will say to himself, "i wonner what that means." and sometimes he will talk to carabi about it--that is a child of his imagination, a invisible playmate he has always had playin' with him, talkin' to him, and i spoze imaginin' that carabi replies. i have asked him sometimes, "who is carabi, i hearn you talkin' to out in the yard? where duz he come from! how duz he look?" he always acts shy about tellin', but if pressed hard he will say, "he looks like carabi, and he comes from right here," kinder sweepin' his arms round. but he talks with him by the hour, and i declare it has made me feel fairly pokerish to hear him. but knowin' what strange avenoos open on every side into the mysterious atmosphere about us, the strange ether world that bounds us on every pint of the compass, and not knowin' exactly what natives walk them avenoos, i hain't dasted to poke too much fun at him, and 'tennyrate i spozed if tommy went a long sea-voyage carabi would have to go too. but who wuz goin' with tommy? thomas j. had got independent rich, and maggie has come into a large property; they had means enough, but who wuz to go with him? i felt the mantilly of responsibility fallin' on me before it fell, and i groaned in sperit--could i, could i agin tempt the weariness and danger of a long trip abroad, and alone at that? for i tackled josiah on the subject before thomas j. importuned me, only with his eyes, sad and beseechin' and eloquent. and josiah planted himself firm as a rock on his refusal. never, never would he stir one step on a long sea-voyage, no indeed! he had had enough of water to last him through his life, he never should set foot on any water deeper than the creek, and that wuzn't over his pumps. "but i cannot see the child die before my eyes, josiah, and feel that i might have saved him, and yet am i to part with the pardner of my youth and middle age? am i to leave you, josiah?" "i know not!" sez he wildly, "only i know that i don't set my foot on any ship, or any furren shore agin. when i sung 'hum agin from a furren shore' i meant hum agin for good and all, and here i stay." "oh dear me!" i sithed, "why is it that the apron strings of duty are so often made of black crape, but yet i must cling to 'em?" "well," sez josiah, "what clingin' i do will be to hum; i don't go dressed up agin for months, and hang round tarvens and deepos, and i couldn't leave the farm anyway." but his mean wuz wild and haggard; that man worships me. but dear little tommy wuz pinin' away; he must go, and to nobody but his devoted grandma would they trust him, and i knew that philury and ury could move right in and take care of everything, and at last i sez: "i will try to go, thomas j., i will try to go 'way off alone with tommy and leave your pa----." but here my voice choked up and i hurried out to give vent to some tears and groans that i wouldn't harrow thomas j. with. but strange, strange are the workin's of providence! wonderful are the ways them apron strings of duty will be padded and embroidered, strange to the world's people, but not to them that consider the wonderful material they are made of, and how they float out from that vast atmosphere jest spoke on, that lays all round us full of riches and glory and power, and beautiful surprises for them that cling to 'em whether or no. right at this time, as if our sharp distress had tapped the universe and it run comfort, two relations of maggie's, on their way home from paris to san francisco, stopped to see their relations in jonesville on their own sides. dorothy snow, maggie's cousin, wuz a sweet young girl, the only child of adonirum snow, who left jonesville poor as a rat, went to californy and died independent rich. she wuz jest out of school, had been to paris for a few months to take special studies in music and languages; a relation on her ma's side, a kind of gardeen, travelin' with her. albina meechim wuz a maiden lady from choice, so she said and i d'no as i doubted it when i got acquainted with her, for she did seem to have a chronic dislike to man, and havin' passed danger herself her whole mind wuz sot on preventin' dorothy from marryin'. they come to maggie's with a pretty, good natured french maid, not knowin' of the sickness there, and maggie wouldn't let 'em go, as they wuz only goin' to stay a few days. they wuz hurryin' home to san francisco on account of some bizness that demanded dorothy's presence there. but they wuz only goin' to stop there a few days, and then goin' to start off on another long sea-voyage clear to china, stoppin' at hawaii on the way. warm climate! good for measles! my heart sunk as i hearn 'em tell on't. here wuz my opportunity to have company for the long sea-voyage. but could i--could i take it? thomas jefferson gently approached the subject ag'in. sez he, "mother, mebby tommy's life depends on it, and here is good company from your door." i murmured sunthin' about the expenses of such a trip. sez he, "that last case i had will more than pay all expenses for you and tommy, and father if he will go, and," sez he, "if i can save my boy--" and his voice trembled and he stopped. "but," i sez, "your father is able to pay for any trip we want to take." and he says, "he won't pay a cent for this." and there it wuz, the way made clear, good company provided from the doorstep. dorothy slipped her soft little white hand in mine and sez, "do go, aunt samantha. may i call you auntie?" sez she, as she lifted her sweet voylet eyes to mine. she's as pretty as a pink--white complected, with wavy, golden hair and sweet, rosy lips and cheeks. and i sez, "yes, you dear little creater, you may call me aunt in welcome, and we be related in a way," sez i. sez miss meechim, "we shall consider it a great boon if you go with us. and dear little tommy, it will add greatly to the pleasure of our trip. we only expected to have three in our company." "who is the third?" sez i. "my nephew, robert strong. he has been abroad with us, but had to go directly home to san francisco to attend to his business before he could go on this long trip; he will join us there. we expect to go to hawaii and the philippines, and japan and china, and perhaps egypt." "and that will be just what you will enjoy, mother," sez thomas j. sez i, in a strange axent, "i never laid plans for going to china, but," sez i, "i do feel that i would love to see the empress, si ann. there is sunthin' that the widder heinfong ort to know." thomas j. asked me what it wuz, but i gently declined to answer, merely sayin' that it was a matter of duty, and so i told miss meechim when she asked about it. she is so big feelin' that it raised me up considerable to think that i had business with a empress. but i answered her evasive, and agin i giv vent to a low groan, and sez to myself, "can i let the pacific ocean roll between me and josiah? will duty's apron string hold up under the strain, or will it break with me? will it stretch out clear to china? and oh! will my heart strings that are wrapped completely round that man, will they stretch out the enormous length they will have to and still keep hull?" i knew not. i wuz a prey to overwhelmin' emotions, even as i did up my best night-gowns and sheepshead night-caps and sewed clean lace in the neck and sleeves of my parmetty and gray alpaca and got down my hair trunk, for i knew that i must hang onto that apron string no matter where it carried me to. waitstill webb come and made up some things i must have, and as preparations went on my pardner's face grew haggard and wan from day to day, and he acted as if he knew not what he wuz doin'. why, the day i got down my trunk i see him start for the barn with the accordeon in a pan. he sot out to get milk for the calf. he was nearly wild. he hadn't been so good to me in over four years. truly, a threatened absence of female pardners is some like a big mustard poultice applied to the manly breast drawin' out the concealed stores of tenderness and devotion that we know are there all the time, but sometimes kep' hid for years and years. he urged me to eat more than wuz good for me--rich stuff that i never did eat--and bought me candy, which i sarahuptishly fed to the pup. and he follered me round with footstools, and het the soap stun hotter than wuz good for my feet, and urged me to keep out of drafts. and one day he sez to me with a anxious face: "if you do go, samanthy, i wouldn't write about your trip--i am afraid it will be too much for you--i am afraid it will tire your head too much. i know it would mine." and then i say to him in a tender axent, for his devotion truly touched me: "there is a difference in heads, josiah." but he looked so worried that i most promised him i wouldn't try to write about the trip--oh! how that man loves me, and i him visey versey. and so the days passed, little tommy pale and pimpin', thomas j. lookin' more cheerful as he thought his ma wuzn't goin' to fail him, maggie tryin' to keep up and tend to havin' tommy's clothes fixed; she hated to have him go, and wanted him to go. she and thomas j. wuz clingin' to that string, black as a coal, and hash feelin' to our fingers. miss meechim and dorothy wuz as happy as could be. miss meechim wuz tall and slim and very genteel, and sandy complected, and she confided her rulin' passion to me the first time i see her for any length of time. "i want dorothy to be a bachelor maid," sez she. "i am determined that she shall not marry anyone. and you don't know," sez she fervently, "what a help my nephew, robert strong, has been to me in protectin' dorothy from lovers. i am so thankful he is going with us on this long trip. he is good as gold and very rich; but he has wrong ideas about his wealth. he says that he only holds it in trust, and he has built round his big manufactory, just outside of san francisco, what he calls a city of justice, where his workmen are as well cared for and happy as he is. that is very wrong, i have told him repeatedly. it is breaking down the scriptures, which teaches the poor their duty to the rich, and gently admonishes the rich to look down upon and guide the poor. how can the scriptures be fulfilled if the rich lift up the poor and make them wealthy? i trust that robert will see his mistake in time, before he makes all his workmen wealthy. but, oh, he is such a help to me in protecting dorothy from lovers." "how duz he protect her?" sez i. "oh, he has such tact. he knows just how opposed i am to matrimony in the abstract and concrete, and he has managed gently but firmly to lead dorothy away from the dangers about her. now, he don't care for dancing at all; but there was a young man at home who wuz just winning her heart completely with his dexterity with his heels, as you may say. he was the most graceful dancer and dorothy dotes on dancing. i told my trouble to robert, and what should that boy do but make a perfect martyr of himself, and after a few lessons danced so much better that dorothy wuz turned from her fancy. and one of her suitors had such a melodious voice, he wuz fairly singin' his way into her heart, and i confided my fears to robert, and he immediately responded, dear boy. he just practised self-denial again, and commenced singing with her himself, and his sweet, clear tenor voice entirely drowned out the deep basso i had feared. of course, robert did it to please me and from principle. i taught him early self-denial and the pleasures of martyrdom. of course, i never expected he would carry my teachings to such an extent as he has in his business life. i did not mean it to extend to worldly matters; i meant it to be more what the bible calls 'the workings of the spirit.' but he will doubtless feel different as he gets older. and, oh, he is such a help to me with dorothy. now, on this trip he knows my fears, and how sedulously i have guarded dorothy from the tender passion, and it wuz just like him to put his own desires in the background and go with us to help protect her." "how did you git such dretful fears of marriage?" sez i. "men are tryin' lots of times, and it takes considerable religion to git along with one without jawin' more or less. but, after all, i d'no what i should do without my pardner--i think the world on him, and have loved to think i could put out my hand any time and be stayed and comforted by his presence. i should feel dretful lost and wobblin' without him," sez i, with a deep sithe, "though i well know his sect's shortcomin's. but i never felt towards 'em as you do, even in my most maddest times, when josiah had been the tryinest and most provokinest." "well," sez she, "my father spent all my mother's money on horse-racin', save a few thousand which he had invested for her, and she felt wuz safe, but he took that to run away with a bally girl, and squandered it all on her and died on the town. my eldest sister's husband beat her with a poker, and throwed her out of a three-story front in san francisco, and she landin' on a syringea tree wuz saved to git a divorce from him and also from her second and third husbands for cruelty, after which she gave up matrimony and opened a boarding-house, bitter in spirit, but a good calculator. i lived with her when a young girl, and imbibed her dislike for matrimony, which wuz helped further by sad experiences of my own, which is needless to particularize. (i hearn afterwards that she had three disappointments runnin', bein' humbly and poor in purse.) "and now," sez she, "i am as well grounded against matrimony as any woman can be, and my whole energies are aimed on teaching dorothy the same belief i hold." "well," sez i, "your folks have suffered dretful from men and i don't wonder you feel as you do. but what i am a goin' to do to be separated from my husband durin' this voyage is more than i can tell." and i groaned a deep holler groan. "why, i haven't told you half," sez she. "all of my sisters but one had trouble with their husbands. robert's step-ma wuz the only one who had a good husband, but he died before they'd been married a year, and she follered him in six months, leaving twins, who died also, and i took robert, to whom i had got attached, to the boarding-house, and took care on him until he wuz sent away to school and college. his pa left plenty of money," sez she, "and a big fortune when he came of age, which he has spent in the foolish way i have told you of, or a great part of it." well, at this juncture we wuz interrupted, and didn't resoom the conversation until some days afterwards, though i wuz dretful interested in the big manufactory of robert strong's, that big co-working scheme. (i had hearn thomas j. commend it warmly.) at last the day come for me to start. i waked up feelin' a strange weight on my heart. i had dremp philury had sot the soap stun on my chest. but no soap stun wuz ever so hard and heavy as my grief. josiah and i wuz to be parted! could it be so? could i live through it? he wuz out in the wood-house kitchen pretendin' to file a saw. file a saw before breakfast! he took that gratin' job to hide his groans; he wuz weepin'; his red eyes betrayed him. philury got a good breakfast which we couldn't eat. my trunk wuz packed and in the democrat. the neighborin' wimmen brung me warm good-byes and bokays offen their house plants, and sister sypher sent me some woosted flowers, which i left to home, and some caraway seed to nibble on my tower which i took. she that wuz arvilly lanfeare brought me a bottle of bam made out of the bark of the bam of gilead tree, to use in case i should get bruised or smashed on the train, and also two pig's bladders blowed up, which she wanted me to wear constant on the water to help me float. she had painted on one of 'em the jonesville meetin'-house, thinkin', i spoze, the steeple might bring lofty thoughts to me in hurrycains or cyclones. and on the other one she had painted in big letters the title of the book she is agent for--"the twin crimes of america: intemperance and greed!" i thought it wuz real cunning in arvilly to combine so beautifully kindness and business. there is so much in advertising. they looked real well, but i didn't see how i wuz goin' to wear 'em over my bask waist. arvilly said she wanted to go with me the worst kind. says she: "i hain't felt so much like goin' anywhere sense i deserted." (arvilly did enlist in the cuban army, and deserted, and they couldn't touch her for it--of which more anon.) and i sez to her: "i wish you could go, arvilly; i believe it would do you good after what you have went through." well, the last minute come and ury took us to the train. josiah went with me, but he couldn't have driv no more than a mournin' weed could. i parted with the children, and--oh! it wuz a hard wrench on my heart to part with thomas j.; took pale little tommy in my arms, like pullin' out his pa's heart-strings--and his ma's, too--and at last the deepo wuz reached. as we went in we see old miss burpy from 'way back of loontown. she wuz never on the cars before, or see 'em, but she wuz sent for by her oldest boy who lives in the city. she was settin' in a big rocken'-chair rocken voyolently, and as i went past her she says: "have we got to new york yet?" "why," sez i, "we haint started." she sez, "i thought i wuz in the convenience now a-travellin'." "oh, no," i sez, "the conveyance haint come yet, you will heer it screechin' along pretty soon." anon we hearn the train thunderin' towards us. i parted with tirzah ann and whitfield, havin' shook hands with ury before; and all others being parted from, i had to, yes, i had to, bid my beloved pardner adoo. and with a almost breakin' heart clum into the car, miss meechim and dorothy and aronette having preceeded me before hand. yes, i left my own josiah behind me, with his bandanna pressed to his eyes. could i leave him? at the last minute i leaned out of the car winder and sez with a choken voice: "josiah, if we never meet again on jonesville sile, remember there is a place where partin's and steam engines are no more." his face wuz covered with his bandanna, from whence issued deep groans, and i felt i must be calm to boy him up, and i sez: "be sure, josiah, to keep your feet dry, take your cough medicine reglar, go to meetin' stiddy, keep the pumps from freezin', and may god bless you," sez i. and then again i busted into tears. the hard-hearted engine snorted and puffed, and we wuz off. chapter ii as the snortin' and skornful actin' engine tore my body away from jonesville, i sot nearly bathed in tears for some time till i wuz aware that little tommy wuz weepin' also, frightened i spoze by his grandma's grief, and then i knew it wuz my duty to compose myself, and i summoned all my fortitude, put my handkerchief in my pocket, and give tommy a cream cookey, which calmed his worst agony. i then recognized and passed the compliments of the day with miss meechim and dorothy and pretty little aronette, who wuz puttin' away our wraps and doin' all she could for the comfort of the hull of us. seein' my agitation, she took tommy in her arms and told him some stories, good ones, i guess, for they made tommy stop cryin' and go to laughin', specially as she punctuated the stories with some chocolate drops. dorothy looked sweet as a rose and wuz as sweet. miss meechim come and sot down by me, but she seemed to me like a furiner; i wuz dwellin' in a fur off realm miss meechim had never stepped her foot in, the realm of wedded love and pardner reminiscences. what did miss meechim know of that hallowed clime? what did she know of the grief that wrung my heart? men wuz to her like shadders; her heart spoke another language. thinkin' that it would mebbe git my mind off a little from my idol, i asked her again about robert strong's city of justice; sez i, "it has run in my mind considerable since you spoke on't; i don't think i ever hearn the name of any place i liked so well, city of justice! why the name fairly takes hold of my heart-strings," sez i; "has he made well by his big manufactory?" "why, yes, fairly well," sez she, "but he has strange ideas. he says he don't want to coin a big fortune out of other men's sweat and brains. he wants to march on with the great army of toilers, and not be carried ahead of it on a down bed. he says he wants to feel that he is wronging no man by amassing wealth out of the half-paid labor of their best years, and that he is satisfied with an equal and reasonable share of the labor and capital invested. he has the best of men in his employ and they are all well paid and industrious; all well-to-do, able to live well, educate their children well, and have time for some culture and recreation for themselves and their families. i told him that his ideas were utopian, but he says they have succeeded even better than he expected they would. but there will come a crash some time, i am sure. there must be rich and there must be poor in this world, or the scriptures will not be fulfilled." sez i, "there ain't no need to be such a vast army of poverty marching on to the almshouse and grave, if it wuzn't for the dram-shop temptin' poor human nater, and the greed of the world, and the cowardice and indifference of the church of christ. enough money is squandered for stuff that degrades and destroys to feed and clothe all the hungry and naked children of the world." "oh," sez miss meechim, "i don't believe all this talk and clamor about prohibition. my people all drank genteelly, and though of course it was drink that led to the agony and divorces of three of my sisters, and my father's first downfall, yet i have always considered that moderate drinking was genteel. our family physician always drank genteel, and our clergyman always kept it in his wine cellar, and if people would only exert self control and drink genteel, there would be no danger." "how duz robert strong feel about it?" sez i. "oh, he is a fanatic on the subject; he won't employ a man who drinks at all. he says that the city he is founding is a city of justice, and it is not just for one member of a family to do anything to endanger the safety and happiness of the rest; so on that ground alone he wouldn't brook any drinking in his model city. there are no very rich ones there, and absolutely no poor ones; he is completely obliterating the barriers that always have, and i believe always should exist between the rich and the poor. sez i, 'robert, you are sacrilegiously setting aside the saviour's words, "the poor ye shall always have with you."' "and he said there was another verse that our lord incorporated in his teachings and the whole of his life-work, that he was trying to carry out: 'do unto others as ye would have them to do unto you.' he said that love and justice was the foundation and cap-stone of our saviour's life and work and he was trying in his weak way to carry them out in his own life and work. robert talked well," sez she, "and i must confess that to the outward eye his city of justice is in a happy and flourishing condition, easy hours of work, happy faces of men, women and children as they work or play or study. it looks well, but as i always tell him, there is a weak spot in it somewhere." "what duz he say to that?" sez i, dretful interested in the story. "why, he says the only weak spot in it is his own incompetence and inability to carry out the christ idea of love and justice as he wants to." "i wish i could see that city of justice," sez i dreamily, for my mind's eye seemed to look up to robert strong in reverence and admiration. "well," sez she, "i must say that it is a beautiful place; it is founded on a natural terrace that rises up from a broad, beautiful, green plain, flashing rivers run through the valley, and back of it rises the mountains." "like as the mountains are about jerusalem," sez i. "yes, a beautiful clear stream rushes down the mountain side from the melting snow on top, but warmed by the southern sun, as it flows through the fertile land, it is warm and sweet as it reaches robert's place. and robert says," continued miss meechim, "that that is just how old prejudices and injustices will melt like the cold snow and flow in a healing stream through the world. he talks well, robert does. and oh, what a help he has been to me with dorothy!" "what duz she say about it?" sez i. "she does not say so, but i believe she thinks as i do about the infeasibility as well as the intrinsic depravity of disproving the scriptures." "well," sez i, "robert was right about the mission of our lord being to extend justice and mercy, and bring the heart of the world into sweetness, light and love. his whole life was love, self-sacrifice and devotion, and i believe that robert is in the right on't." "oh, robert is undoubtedly following his ideas of right, but they clash with mine," sez miss meechim, shakin' her head sadly, "and i think he will see his error in time." here miss meechim stopped abruptly to look apprehensively at a young man that i knew wuz a jonesville husband and father of twins. he was lookin' admirin'ly at dorothy, and miss meechim went and sot down between 'em, and tommy come and set with me agin. tommy leaned up aginst me and looked out of the car window and sez kinder low to himself: "i wonner what makes the smoke roll and roll up so and feather out the sky, and i wonner what my papa and my mama is doin' and what my grandpa will do--they will be so lonesome?" oh, how his innocent words pierced my heart anew, and he begun to kinder whimper agin, and aronette, good little creeter, come up and gin him an orange out of the lunch-basket she had. well, we got to new york that evenin' and i wuz glad to think that everybody wuz well there, or so as to git about, for they wuz all there at the deepo, excep' them that wuz in the street, but we got safe through the noise and confusion to a big, high tarven, with prices as high as its ruff and flagpole. miss meechim got for her and dorothy what she called "sweet rooms," three on 'em in a row, one for each on 'em and a little one for aronette. but i d'no as they wuz any sweeter than mine, though mine cost less and wuz on the back of the house where it wuzn't so noisy. tommy and i occupied one room; he had a little cot-bed made up for him. indeed, i groaned out as i sot me down in a big chair, if he wuz here, the pardner of my youth and middle age, no room miss meechim ever looked on wuz so sweet as this would be. but alas! he wuz fur away. jonesville held on to my idol and we wuz parted away from each other. but i went down to supper, which they called dinner, and see that tommy had things for his comfort and eat sunthin' myself, for i had to support life, yes, strength had to be got to cling to that black string that i had holt on, and vittles had to supply some of that strength, though religion and principle supplied the biggest heft. miss meechim and aronette wuz in splendid sperits, and after sup--dinner went out to the theatre to see a noted tragedy acted, and they asked me to accompany and go with 'em, for i spoze that my looks wuz melancholy and deprested in extreme, aronette offerin' to take care of tommy if i wanted to go. but i sez, "no, i have got all the tragedy in my own bosom that i can 'tend to." and in spite of my cast-iron resolution tears busted out under my eyeleds and trickled down my nose. they didn't see it, my back wuz turned, and my nose is a big one anyway and could accommodate a good many tears. but i controlled my agony of mind. i walked round with tommy for a spell and showed him all the beauties of the place, which wuz many, sot down with him for a spell in the big, richly-furnished parlors, but cold and lonesome lookin' after all, for the love-light of home wuz lackin', and looked at the glittering throng passing and repassing; but the wimmen looked fur off to me and the men wuz like shadders, only one man seemed a reality to me, and he wuz small boneded and fur away. and then we went to our room. i read to tommy for a spell out of a good little book i bought, and then hearn him say his prayers, his innocent voice askin' for blessin's from on high for his parents and my own beloved lonely one, and then i tucked him into his little cot and sot down and writ a letter to my dear josiah, tears dribblin' down onnoticed while i did so. for we had promised to write to each other every day of our lives, else i could not, could not have borne the separation, and i also begun a letter to philury. i laid out to put down things that i wanted her to 'tend to that i thought on from day to day after i got away, and then send it to her bime by. sez i: "philury, be sure and put woolen sheets on josiah's bed if it grows colder, and heat the soap stun for him and see that he wears his woolen-backed vest, takin' it off if it moderates. tend to his morals, philury, men are prone to backslide; start him off reg'lar to meetin', keep clean bandannas in his pocket, let him wear his gingham neckties, he'll cry a good deal and it haint no use to spile his silk ones. oh, philury! you won't lose nothin' if you are good to that dear man. put salt enough on the pork when you kill, and don't let josiah eat too much sassage. and so no more to-night, to be continude." the next morning i got two letters from my pardner. he had writ a letter right there in the deepo before he went home, and also another on his arrival there. agony wuz in every word; oh, how wuz we goin' to bear it! but i must not make my readers onhappy; no i must harrow them up no more, i must spread the poultice of silence on the deep gaping woond and go on with the sombry history. after breakfast miss meechim got a big, handsome carriage, drawed by two prancin' steeds, held in by a man buttoned up to his chin, and invited me to take tommy and go with her and dorothy up to the park, which i did. they wuz eloquent in praises of that beautiful place; the smooth, broad roads, bordered with tall trees, whose slim branches stood out against the blue sky like pictures. the crowds of elegant equipages, filled with handsome lookin' folks in galy attire that thronged them roads. the mall, with its stately beauty, the statutes that lined the way ever and anon. the massive walls of the museum, the beautiful lake and rivulets, spanned by handsome bridges. it wuz a fair seen, a fair seen--underneath beauty of the rarest kind, and overhead a clear, cloudless sky. miss meechim wuz happy, though she didn't like the admiring male glances at dorothy's fresh, young beauty, and tried to ward 'em off with her lace-trimmed muff, but couldn't. tommy wuz in pretty good sperits and didn't look quite so pale as when we left home, and he wonnered at the white statutes, and kinder talked to himself, or to carabi about 'em, and i kinder gathered from what he said that he thought they wuz ghosts, and i thought that he wuz kinder reassurin' carabi that they wouldn't hurt him, and he wonnered at the mounted policemen who he took to be soldiers, and at all the beauty with which we wuz surrounded. and i--i kep' as cheerful a face as i could on the outside, but always between me and beauty, in whatsoever guise it appeared, wuz a bald head, a small-sized figger. yes, it weighed but little by the steelyards, but it shaddered lovely central park, the most beautiful park in the world, and the hull universe for me. but i kep' a calm frame outside; i answered miss meechim's remarks mekanically and soothed her nervous apprehensions as well as i could as she glanced fearfully at male admirers by remarkin' in a casual way to her "that new york and the hull world wuz full of pretty women and girls," which made her look calmer, and then i fell in to once with her scheme of drivin' up the long, handsome boolevard, acrost the long bridge, up to the tomb of our hero, general grant. hallowed place! dear and precious to the hull country. the place where the ashes lie that wuz once the casket of that brave heart. good husband, kind father, true friend, great general, grand hero, sleeping here by the murmuring waters of the stream he loved, in the city of his choice, sleeping sweetly and calmly while the whole world wakes to do him honor and cherish and revere his memory. i had big emotions here, i always did, and spoze i always shall. but, alas! true it wuz that even over the memory of that matchless hero riz up in my heart the remembrance of one who wuz never heroic, onheeded and onthought on by his country, but--oh! how dear to me! the memory of his words, often terse and short specially before meal-time, echoed high above the memory of him who talked with kings and emperors, ruled armies and hushed the seething battle-cry, and the nation's clamor with "let us have peace." but i will not agin fall into harrow, or drag my readers there, but will simply state that, in all the seens of beauty and grandeur we looked on that day--and miss meechim wanted to see all and everything, from magestick meetin' houses and mansions, bearin' the stamp of millions of dollars, beautiful arches lifted up to heroes and the national honor, even down to the brooklyn bridge and the goddess of liberty--over all that memory rained supreme. the goddess of liberty holdin' aloft her blazin' torch rousted up the enthusiastick admiration of dorothy and miss meechim. but i thought as i looked on it that she kinder lifted her arm some as i had seen my dear pardner lift his up when he wuz a-fixin' a stove pipe overhead; and that long span uniting new york and brooklyn only brought to me thoughts of the length and strength of that apron-string to which i clung and must cling even though death ensued. well, after a long time of sight-seeing we returned to our hotel, and, after dinner, which they called luncheon, i laid down a spell with tommy, for i felt indeed tuckered out with my emotions outside and inside. tommy dropped off to sleep to once like a lamb, and i bein' beat out, lost myself, too, and evening wuz almost lettin' down her mantilly spangled with stars, when i woke, tommy still sleepin' peacefully, every minute bringin' health and strength to him i knew. miss meechim and dorothy had been to some of the big department stores where you can buy everything under one ruff from a elephant to a toothpick, and have a picture gallery and concert throwed in. they had got a big trunk full of things to wear. i wondered what they wanted of 'em when they wuz goin' off on another long journey so soon; but considered that it wuzn't my funeral or my tradin' so said nothin'. anon we went down and had a good supper, which they called dinner, after which they went to the opera. aronette tended to packin' their clothes, and offered to help me pack. but as i told her i hadn't onpacked nothin' but my nightgown and sheepshead night-cap i could git along with it, specially as sheepshead night-caps packed easier than full crowned ones. so i took tommy out for a little walk on the broad beautiful sidewalks, and it diverted him to see the crowds of handsomely dressed men and women all seemin' to hurry to git to some place right off, and the children who didn't seem to be in any hurry, and in seein' the big carriages roll by, some drawed by prancin' horses, and some by nothin' at all, so fur as we could see, which rousted up tommy's wonder, and it all diverted him a little and mebby it did me too, and then we retired to our room and had a middlin' good night's rest, though hanted by jonesville dreams, and the next morning we left for chicago. dorothy had never seen niagara falls or saratoga, so we went a few milds out of our way that she might see saratoga's monster hotels, the biggest in the world; and take a drink of the healin' waters of the springs that gushes up so different right by the side of each other, showin' what a rich reservoir the earth is, if we only knew how to tap it, and where. we didn't stay at saratoga only over one train; but drove through the broad handsome streets, and walked through beautiful congress park, and then away to niagara falls. it wuz a bright moonlight night when we stood on the bridge not far from the tarven where we had our sup--dinner. and dorothy and miss meechim wuz almost speechless with awe and admiration, they said "oh, how sublime! oh! how grand!" as they see the enormous body of water sweepin' down that immense distance. the hull waters of the hull chain of lakes, or inland seas, sweepin' down in one great avalanche of water. i wanted dretfully to go and see the place where the cunning and wisdom of man has set a trap to ketch the power of that great liquid geni, who has ruled it over his mighty watery kingdom sence the creation, and i spoze always calculated to; throwin' men about, and drawin' 'em down into its whirlpool jest like forest leaves or blades of grass. who would have dremp chainin' down that resistless, mighty force and make it bile tea-kettles; and light babys to their trundle beds, and turn coffee mills, and light up meetin' houses, and draw canal boats and propel long trains of cars. how it roared and took on when the subject wuz first broke to it. but it had to yield, as the twentieth century approached and the millennium drew nigh; men not so very big boned either, but knowin' quite a lot, jest chained that great roarin' obstropulous geni, and has made it do good work. after rulin' the centuries with a high hand nobody dastin' to go nigh it, it wuz that powerful and awful in its might and magesty, it has been made to serve, jest as the bible sez: "he that is mightiest amongst you shall be your servant," or words to that effect. but it is a sight, i spoze, to see all the performances they had to go through, the hard labor of years and years, to persuade niagara to do what they had planned for it to do. but as i say, this great giant is chained by one foot, as it were, and is doin' good day's works, and no knowin' how much more will be put on it to do when the rest of its strength is buckled down to work. all over the great empire state, mebby, he will have to light the evenin' lamps, and cook the mornin' meals, and bring acrost the continent the food he cooks, and turn the mills that grinds the flour to make the bread he toasts, and sow the wheat that makes the flour, and talk for all the millions of people and play their music for them--i d'no what he won't be made to do, and josiah don't, but i spoze it is a sight to see the monster trap they built to hold this great force. we wanted to go there, but hadn't time. but to resoom backwards a spell. miss meechim and dorothy was perfectly awe-struck to see and hear the falls, and i didn't wonder. but i had seen it before with my beloved pardner by my side, and it seemed to me as if niagara missed him, and its great voice seemed to roar out: "where is josiah? where is josiah? why are you here without him? swish, swash, roar, roar, where is josiah? where? roar! where?" oh, the emotions i had as i stood there under the cold light of the moon, cold waters rushin' down into a cold tomb; cold as a frog the hull thing seemed, and full of a infinite desolation. but i knew that if love had stood there by my side, personified in a small-sized figger, the hull seen would have bloomed rosy. yes, as i listened to the awestruck, admirin' axents of the twain with me, them words of the poet come back to me: "how the light of the hull life dies when love is gone." "oh," sez miss meechim, as we walked back to the tarven, takin' in the sooveneer store on the way, "oh, what a immense body of water! how tumultous it sweeps down into the abyss below!" i answered mekanically, for i thought of one who wuz also tumultous at times, but after a good meal subsided down into quiet, some as the waters of niagara did after a spell. and dorothy sez, "how the grand triumphal march of the great lakes, as they hurry onwards towards the ocean, shakes the very earth in their wild haste." i sez mekanically, "yes, indeed!" but my thoughts wuz of one who had often pranced 'round and tromped, and even kicked in his haste, and shook the wood-house floor. ah, how, how could i forgit him? and at the sooveneer stores, oh, how i wuz reminded of him there! how he had cautioned me aginst buyin' in that very spot; how he had stood by me till he had led me forth empty-handed towards the tarven. ah well, i tried to shake off my gloom, and tommy waked up soon after our return (aronette, good little creeter! had stayed right by him), and we all had a good meal, and then embarked on the sleeping car. i laid tommy out carefully on the top shelf, and covered him up, and then partially ondressed and stretched my own weary frame on my own shelf and tried to woo the embrace of morphine, but i could not, so i got up and kinder sot, and took out my pad and writ a little more in my letter to my help. sez i, "philury, if josiah takes cold, steep some lobely and catnip, half and half; if he won't take it ury must hold him and you pour it down. don't sell yourself short of eggs, josiah loves 'em and they cost high out of season. don't let the neighbors put upon him because i went off and left him. give my love to waitstill webb and elder white, give it to 'em simeltaneous and together, tell 'em how much i think on 'em both for the good they're doin'. tell arvilly i often think of her and what she has went through and pity her. give a hen to the widder gowdey for christmas. let josiah carry it, or no, i guess ury had better, i am away and folks might talk. the ketch on the outside suller door had better be fixed so it can't blow open. josiah's thickest socks are in the under draw, and the pieces to mend his overhalls in a calico bag behind the clothespress door. guard that man like the apples in your eyes, philury, and you'll be glad bime by. so no more. to be continude." agin i laid down and tried to sleep; in vain, my thoughts, my heart wuz in jonesville, so i riz up agin as fur as i could and took my handkerchief pin offen the curtain where i had pinned it and looked at it long and sadly. i hadn't took any picture of josiah with me, i hadn't but one and wuz afraid i should lose it. he hain't been willin' to be took sence he wuz bald, and i knew that his picture wuz engraved on my heart in deeper lines than any camera or kodak could do it. but i had a handkerchief pin that looked like him, i bought it to the world's fair, it wuz took of columbus. you know columbus wuz a changeable lookin' critter in his pictures, if he looked like all on 'em he must have been fitty, and miss columbus must have had a hard time to git along with him. this looked like josiah, only with more hair, but i held my thumb over the top, and i could almost hear josiah speak. i might have had a lock of his hair to wep' over, but my devoted love kep' me from takin' it; i knew that he couldn't afford to spare a hair with winter comin' on. but i felt that i must compose myself, for my restless moves had waked tommy up. the sullen roar of the wheels underneath me kep' kinder hunchin' me up every little while if i forgot myself for a minute, twittin' me that my pardner had let me go away from him; i almost thought i heard once or twice the echo, grass widder! soundin' out under the crunchin' roar and rattle of the wheels, but then i turned right over on my shelf and sez in my agony of sperit: not that--not grass. and tommy called down, "what say, grandma?" and i reached up and took holt of his soft, warm little hand and sez: "go to sleep, tommy, grandma is here." "you said sunthin' about grass, grandma." and i sez, "how green the grass is in the spring, tommy, under the orchard trees and in the door-yard. how pretty the sun shines on it and the moonlight, and grandpa is there, tommy, and peace and rest and happiness, and my heart is there, too, tommy," and i most sobbed the last words. and tommy sez, "hain't your heart here too, grandma? you act as if you wuz 'fraid. you said when i prayed jest now that god would watch over us." "and he will, tommy, he will take care of us and of all them i love." and leanin' my weary and mournful sperit on that thought, and leanin' hard, i finally dropped off into the arms of morphine. chapter iii well, we reached chicago with no further coincidence and put up to a big hotel kep' by mr. and miss parmer. it seems that besides all the money i had been provided with, thomas j. had gin a lot of money to miss meechim to use for me if she see me try to stent myself any, and he had gin particular orders that we should go to the same hotels they did and fare jest as well, so they wanted to go to the tarven kep' by mr. parmerses folks, and we did. i felt real kinder mortified to think that i didn't pay no attention to mr. and miss parmer; i didn't see 'em at all whilst i wuz there. but i spoze she wuz busy helpin' her hired girls, it must take a sight of work to cook for such a raft of folks, and it took the most of his time to provide. well, we all took a long ride round chicago; miss meechim wanted to see the most she could in the shortest time. so we driv through lincoln park, so beautiful as to be even worthy of its name, and one or two other beautiful parks and boolevards and lake shore drives. and we went at my request to see the woman's temperance building; i had got considerable tired by that time, and, oh, how a woman's tired heart longs for the only true rest, the heart rest of love. as we went up the beautiful, open-work alleviator, i felt, oh, that this thing was swinging me off to jonesville, acrost the waste of sea and land. but immegiately the thought come "duty's apron-strings," and i wuz calm agin. but all the time i wuz there talkin' to them noble wimmen, dear to me because they're tacklin' the most needed work under the heavens, wagin' the most holy war, and tacklin' it without any help as you may say from uncle sam, good-natered, shiftless old creeter, well meanin', i believe, but jest led in blinders up and down the earth by the whiskey power that controls state and church to-day, and they may dispute it if they want to, but it is true as the book of job, and fuller of biles and all other impurities and tribulations than job ever wuz, and heaven only knows how it is goin' to end. but to resoom backwards. lofty and inspirin' wuz the talks i had with the noble ones whose names are on the list of temperance here and the lamb's book of life. how our hearts burnt within us, and how the "blest tie that binds" seemed to link us clost together; when, alas! in my soarinest moments, as i looked off with my mind's eye onto a dark world beginnin' to be belted and lightened by the white ribbon, my heart fell almost below my belt ribbin' as i thought of one who had talked light about my w. t. c. u. doin's, but wuz at heart a believer and a abstainer and a member of the jonesville sons of temperance. a little later we stood and looked on one of the great grain elevators, histin' up in its strong grip hull fields of wheat and corn at a time. ah! among all the wonderin' and awe-struck admiration of them about me, how my mind soared off on the dear bald head afar, he who had so often sowed the spring and reaped the autumn ears on the hills and dales of jonesville, sweet land! dear one! when should i see thee again? and as we walked through one of the enormous stock yards, oh! how the bellerin' of them cattle confined there put me in mind of the choice of my youth and joy of my middle age. wuz he too bellerin' at that moment, shet up as he wuz by environin' circumstances from her he worshipped. and so it went on, sad things put me in mind of him and joyful things, all, all speakin' of him, and how, how wuz i to brook the separation? but i will cease to harrow the reader's tender bosom. dry your tears, reader, i will proceed onwards. the next day we sot off for california, via salt lake and denver. jest as we left the tarven at chicago our mail wuz put in our hands, forwarded by the jonesville postmaster accordin' to promise; but not a word from my pardner, roustin' up my apprehensions afresh. had his fond heart broken under the too great strain? had he passed away callin' on my name? my tears dribbled down onto my dress waist, though i tried to stanch 'em with my snowy linen handkerchief. tommy's tears, too, began to fall, seein' which i grabbed holt of duty's black apron-strings and wuz agin calm on the outside, and handed tommy a chocolate drop (which healed his woond), although on the inside my heart kep' on a seethin' reservoir of agony and forbodin's. the next day, as i sot in my comfortable easy chair on the car, knittin' a little, tryin' to take my mind offen trouble and josiah, tommy wuz settin' by my side, and miss meechim and dorothy nigh by. aronette, like a little angel of help, fixin' the cushions under our feet, brushin' the dust offen her mistresses dresses, or pickin' up my stitches when in my agitation or the jigglin' of the cars i dropped 'em, and a perfect arabian night's entertainer to tommy, who worshipped her, when i hearn a exclamation from tommy, and the car door shet, and i looked round and see a young man and woman advancin' down the isle. they wuz a bridal couple, that anybody could see. the blessed fact could be seen in their hull personality--dress, demeanor, shinin' new satchels and everything, but i didn't recognize 'em till tommy sez: "oh, grandma, there is phila henzy and the man she married!" could it be? yes it wuz phila ann henzy, philemon henzy's oldest girl, named for her pa and ma, i knew she wuz married in loontown the week before. i'd hearn on't, but had never seen the groom, but knew he wuz a young chap she had met to the buffalo exposition, and who had courted her more or less ever sence. they seemed real glad to see me, though their manners and smiles and hull demeanors seemed kinder new, somehow, like their clothes. they had hearn from friends in jonesville that i wuz on my way to california, and they'd been lookin' for me. sez the groom, with a fond look on her: "i am so glad we found you, for baby would have been so disappointed if we hadn't met you." baby! phila ann wuz six feet high if she wuz a inch, but good lookin' in a big sized way. and he wuz barely five feet, and scrawny at that; but a good amiable lookin' young man. but i didn't approve of his callin' her baby when she could have carried him easy on one arm and not felt it. the henzys are all big sized, and ann, her ma, could always clean her upper buttery shelves without gittin' up in a chair, reach right up from the floor. but he probable had noble qualities if he wuz spindlin' lookin', or she couldn't adore him as she did. phila ann jest worshipped him i could see, and he her, visey versey. sez she, with a tender look down onto him: "yes, i've been tellin' pa how i did hope we should meet you." pa! there wuz sunthin' else i didn't approve of; callin' him pa, when the fact that they wuz on their bridal tower wuz stomped on 'em both jest as plain as i ever stomped a pat of butter with clover leaves. but i didn't spoze i could do anything to help or hender, for i realized they wuz both in a state of delirium or trance. but i meditated further as i looked on, it wouldn't probable last no great length of time. the honeymoon would be clouded over anon or before that. the clouds would clear away agin, no doubt, and the sun of love shine out permanent if their affection for each other wuz cast-iron and sincere. but the light of this magic moon i knew would never shine on 'em agin. the light of that moon makes things look dretful queer and casts strange shadders onto things and folks laugh at it but no other light is so heavenly bright while it lasts. i think so and so duz josiah. but to resoom forwards. the groom went somewhere to send a telegram and phila sot down by me for a spell; their seat wuz further off but she wanted to talk with me. she wuz real happy and confided in me, and remarked "what a lovely state matrimony is." and i sez, "yes indeed! it is, but you hain't got fur enough along in marriage gography to bound the state on all sides as you will in the future." but she smiled blissful and her eyes looked fur off in rapped delight (the light of that moon shin' full on her) as she said: "what bliss it is for me to know that i have got sunthin' to lean on." and i thought that it would be sad day for him if she leaned her hull heft, but didn't say so, not knowin' how it would be took. i inquired all about the neighbors in jonesville and zoar and loontown, and sez i, "i spoze elder white is still doin' all he can for that meetin' house of hisen in loontown, and i inquired particular about him, for ernest white is a young man i set store by. he come from his home in boston to visit his uncle, the banker, in east loontown. he wuz right from the german university and college and preachin' school, and he wuz so rich he might have sot down and twiddled his thumbs for the rest of his days. but he had a passion for work--a passion of pity for poor tempted humanity. he wanted to reach down and try to lift up the strugglin' 'submerged tenth.' he wuz a student and disciple of ruskin, and felt that he must carry a message of helpfulness and beauty into starved lives. and, best of all, he wuz a follower of jesus, who went about doin' good. when his rich family found that he would be a clergyman they wanted to git him a big city church, and he might have had twenty, for he wuz smart as a whip, handsome, rich, and jest run after in society. but no; he said there wuz plenty to take those rich fat places; he would work amongst the poor, them who needed him." east loontown is a factory village, and the little chapel was standin' empty for want of funds, but twenty saloons wuz booming, full of the operatives, who spent all of their spare time and most of their money there. so ernest white stayed right there and preached, at first to empty seats and a few old wimmen, but as they got to know him, the best young men and young wimmen went, and he filled their hearts with aspiration and hope and beauty and determination to help the world. not being contented with what he wuz doing he spent half his time with the factory hands, who wuz driven to work by want, and harried by the mighty foe, intemperance. a saloon on every corner and block, our twin american idols, intemperance and greed, taking every cent of money from the poor worshippers, to pour into the greedy pockets of the saloon-keepers, brewers, whiskey men and the government, and all who fatten on the corpse of manhood. well, he jest threw himself into the work of helping those poor souls, and helping them as he did in sickness and health they got to liking him, so that they wuz willing to go and hear him preach, which was one hard blow to the demon. the next thing he got all the ministers he could to unite in a church union to fight the liquor power, and undertaking it in the right way, at the ballot-box, they got it pretty well subdued, and as sane minds begun to reign in healthier bodies, better times come. elder white not only preached every sunday, but kep' his church open every evening of the week, and his boys and girls met there for healthful and innocent amusements. he got a good library, all sorts of good games, music; and had short, interesting lectures and entertainments and his church of love rivalled the idol temples and drew away its idol worshippers one by one, and besides the ministers, many prominent business men helped him; my son, thomas j., is forward in helpin' it along. and they say that besides all the good they're doing, they have good times too, and enjoy themselves first-rate evenings. they don't stay out late--that's another thing elder white is trying to inculcate into their minds--right living in the way of health as well as morals. every little while he and somebody else who is fitted for it gives short talks on subjects that will help the boys and girls along in temperance and all good things. the young folks jest worship him, so they say, and i wuz glad to hear right from him. phila is a worker in his meetin' house, and a active member, and so is her pa and ma, and she said that there wuz no tellin' how much good he had done. "when he come there," sez she, "there wuz twenty saloons goin' full blast in a village of two thousand inhabitants and the mill operatives wuz spendin' most all they earnt there, leavin' their families to suffer and half starve; but when elder white opened his church of love week day evenin's as well as sunday, you have no idee what a change there is. there isn't a saloon in the place. he has made his church so pleasant for the young folks that he has drawn away crowds that used to fill the saloons." "yes," sez i, "thomas j. is dretful interested in it; he has gin three lectures there." "yes, most all the best citizens have joined the help union to fight against the whiskey power, though," sez phila, "there is one or two ministers who are afraid of contaminating their religion by politics. they had ruther stand up in their pulpits and preach to a few wimmen about the old jews and the patience of job than take holt and do a man's work in a man's way--the only practical way, grapple with the monster evil at its lair, where it breeds and fattens--the ballot-box." "yes," sez i, "a good many ministers think that they can't descend into the filthy pool of politics. but it hain't reasonable, for how are you a goin' to clean out a filthy place if them that want it clean stand on the bank and hold their noses with one hand, and jester with the other, and quote scripter? and them that don't want it clean are throwin' slime and dirt into it all the time, heapin' up the loathsome filth. somebody has got to take holt and work as well as pray, if these plague spots and misery breeders are ever purified." "well, elder white is doin' all he can," sez phila. "he went right to the polls 'lection day and worked all day; for the whiskey power wuz all riz up and watchin' and workin' for its life, as you may say, bound to draw back into its clutches some of the men that elder white, with the lord's help, had saved. they exerted all their influence, liquor run free all day and all the night before, tryin' to brutalize and craze the men into votin' as the liquor power dictated. but elder white knew what they wuz about, and he and all the earnest helpers he could muster used all their power and influence, and the election wuz a triumph for the right. east loontown went no-license, and not a saloon curses its streets to-day. north loontown, where the minister felt that he wuz too good to touch the political pole, went license, and five more filthy pools wuz opened there for his flock to fall into, to breed vile influences that will overpower all the good influence he can possibly bring to bear on the souls committed to his care." "but," sez i, "he is writin' his book, 'commentaries on ancient sins,' so he won't sense it so much. he's jest carried away with his work." sez phila, "he had better be actin' out a commentary on modern sins. what business has he to be rakin' over the old ashes of sodom and gomorrah for bones of antediluvian sinners, and leave his livin' flock to be burnt and choked by the fire and flames of the present volcano of crime, the liquor system, that belches forth all the time." "well, he wuz made so," sez i. "well, he had better git down out of the pulpit," sez phila, "and let some one git up there who can see a sinner right under his nose, and try to drag him out of danger and ruin, and not have to look over a dozen centuries to find him." "well, i am thankful for ernest white, and i have felt that he and waitstill webb wuz jest made for each other. he thinks his eyes of her i know. when she went and nursed the factory hands when the typhoid fever broke out he said 'she wuz like a angel of mercy.'" "they said he looked like a angel of wrath 'lection day," sez phila. "you know how fair his face is, and how his clear gray eyes seem to look right through you, and through shams and shames of every kind. well, that day they said his face fairly shone and he did the work of ten men." "that is because his heart is pure," sez i, "like that mr. gallyhed i heard thomas j. read about; you know it sez: "'his strength is as the strength of ten because his heart is pure.' "and oh!" sez i agin, "how i would love to see him and waitstill webb married, and happy." "so would i," sez phila. "oh, it is such a beautiful state, matrimony is." "and he needs a wife," sez i. "you know he wouldn't stay with his uncle but said he must live with his people who needed him, so he boards there at the widder pooler's." "yes," sez phila, "and though she worships him, she had rather any day play the part of mary than of martha--she had rather be sittin' at his feet and learnin' of him--than cookin' good nourishin' food and makin' a clean, sweet home for him. but he don't complain." "what a companion waitstill would be for him?" i sez agin. "yes," sez phila, "but i don't believe she will ever marry any one, she looks so sad." "it seems jest if they wuz made for each other," sez i, "and i know he worships the ground she walks on. but i don't know as she will ever marry any one after what she has went through," and i sithed. "she would marry," sez phila warmly, "if she knew what a lovely, lovely state it wuz." how strange it is that some folks are as soft as putty on some subjects and real cute on others. phila knew enough on any other subject only jest marriage. but i spozed that her brain would harden up on this subject when she got more familiar with it--they generally do. and the light of that moon i spoke on liquefies common sense and a state, putty soft, ensues; but cold weather hardens putty, and i knew that she would git over it. but even as i methought, phila sez, "i must go to my seat, pa will be lookin' for me." i see miss meechim smotherin' a smile on her lace-edged handkerchief, and dorothy's eyes kinder laughin' at the idee of a bride callin' her husband "pa." but the groom returned at jest that minute, and i introduced 'em both to miss meechim and dorothy, and we had quite a good little visit. but anon, the groom mentioned incidentally that they wuz a goin' to live in salt lake city. "why!" sez i in horrow, "you hain't a goin' to jine the mormons are you?" and as i said that i see miss meechim kinder git dorothy behind her, as if to protect her from what might be. but i knew there wuzn't no danger from the groom's flirtin' with any other female or tryin' to git 'em sealed to him, for quite a spell i knew that he felt himself as much alone with baby as if them two wuz on a oasis in the middle of the desert of sarah. i knew that it would be some months before he waked up to the fact of there bein' another woman in the world. and oh, how phila scoffed at the idee of pa jinin' the mormons. they had bought part of a store of a gentile and wuz goin' to be pardners with him and kinder grow up with the country. i felt that hey wuz a likely couple and would do well, but rememberin' dorothy's and miss meechim's smiles i reached up and stiddied myself on that apron-string of duty, and took phila out one side and advised her not to call her bridegroom pa. sez i, "you hain't but jest married and it don't look well." and she said that "her ma always called her father pa." "well," sez i, "if you'll take the advice of a old jonesvillian and well-wisher, you'll wait till you're a few years older before you call him pa." and she sez, lookin' admirin'ly at him, "i spoze i might call him papa." well, you can't put sense into a certain bump in anybody's head if it wuzn't made there in the first place--there are holler places in heads that you can't fill up, do your best. but oh! how her devoted love to him put me in mind of myself, and how his small-sized devotion to her--how it reminded me of him who wuz far away--and oh, why did i not hear from him! my heart sunk nearly into my shues as i foreboded about it. it seemed as if everything brung him up before me, the provisions we had on the dining car wuz good and plenty of 'em, and how they made me think of him, who wuz a good provider. the long, long days and nights of travel, the jar and motion of the cars made me think of him who often wuz restless and oneasy. and even the sand of the desert between cheyenne and denver, even that sand brought me fond remembrances of one who wuz sandy complected when in his prime. and oh! when did i not think of him? christmas had gone by, but how could we celebrate it without a home to set up a christmas tree, or set out a table with good jonesville vittles. how i thought on him who made a holiday in my heart by his presence, and always helped me put the leaves in the extension table. tommy wanted to hang up his little stockin', and did, hangin' it out like a little red signal of distress over the side of his top shelf, and we filled it with everything good we could git hold on. dorothy put in a little silver watch she had bought on her travels, not bigger than a warnut, and miss meechim put in some of the toys she had bought for children of her acquaintance. i got a good little picture book for him in chicago, and a set of authors, and aronette gin him two little linen handkerchiefs, hemstitched by herself, and his name, "tommy," worked in the corners. he wuz real tickled with 'em all. i told miss meechim that i had hoped to spend christmas in salt lake city. knowin' that it wuz a warm climate, i thought i could have a christmas tree out doors; i thought i could take one of them big pine trees i had read on, and invite brigham young's wives, the hull on 'em, to my party, bein' out doors i thought there would be room for 'em all, poor creeters! but miss meechim is very cautious, and she said that she wuz afraid that such a party given by folks in my high position might have a tendency to encourage polygamy. and i said, "i would rather give a dollar bill than do that, and mebbe i had better give it up, for we shan't git there in time, anyway." and so i did, and spent the christmas holidays on the cars, and tried to keep my heart and mind in a christmas mood, but don't spoze i did, so many fond recollections and sad forebodin's hanted me as the cars swep' us on, on through the valley of the platte river on to denver. miss meechim, who is a power on dates, said that denver wuz five thousand two hundred feet above the sea. and tommy wonnered, wonnered who measured it, and if they did it with a yard stick as his ma measured cloth, and then he wonnered if his ma missed her little boy, and then he laid up aginst me and kinder cried a little, evanescent grief soon soothed. we stayed in denver two days, sallyin' out to different points of interest about it, and here i see irrigation carried on, water carried into the channels around the crops and trees some as i've dug little holes round my house-plants to hold water; only of course denver wuz carryin' it on, on a bigger scale. it is a handsome city with the water of the platte river brung in and running along in little streams by the curbstones. we rode out to idaho springs on a narrer railroad but easy goin', through clear creek canon. i liked the looks of the springs first-rate (they made me think of josiah). all the way we see chinamen workin' hard and patient, as is their wont, and their long frocks they had on made me think of him i mourned for, and their hair hangin' in long braids down their back. so would _his_ hair look if he had any, and let it grow. we had to go a little out of our straight way to visit salt lake city but felt that it paid. chapter iv salt lake lays in a rich valley at the foot of a range of snow-capped mountains that tower up 'round it, seemin' to the saints, i spoze, as if they wuz heavenly ramparts to protect 'em from evil; and lookin' to them that despise the saints' ways and customs, as if the very earth itself was liftin' up its high hands in horrow at their deeds. but to me, hanted as i wuz by a memory, the mountains looked some like old men with white hair; as his would be when he got older if he wuzn't bald. i knew that i ort not to think on it, but it would come onbid. it is a beautiful city with electric lights, electric railways, broad streets lined with lofty trees, and little rivulets of pure cold snow-water runnin' along the side of 'em. the houses are clean and comfortable looking, with well-kep' lawns and gardens about 'em and flowering shrubs. the temple is a magnificent building; it towers up to heaven, as if it wuz jest as sure of bein' right as our methodist episcopal steeple at jonesville. though we know that the m. e. steeple, though smaller in size, is pintin' the right way and will be found out so on that day that tries souls and steeples and everything else. the old bee hive (where the swarm of mormons first hived and made gall or honey--or mebby both)--is also an interestin' sight to meditate on. it is shaped a good deal like one of them round straw bee hives you see in old sabbath school books. the bride and groom went to their own home to live, on whom we called, or tommy and i did, and left 'em well situated and happy; and i told him, sez i: "if you 'tend strict to the eighth commandment, you'll git along first rate." and he said that he felt he could rise to any height of goodness with baby's help. and she scoffed at the idee of pa ever payin' any attention to any other woman but her, when he worshipped her so. well, so other men have felt and got led off, but i won't forebode. but i left 'em happy in their own cozy home, which i wuz glad to think i could describe to phileman and ann if i ever see that blessed haven, jonesville, agin. we went out to visit the mineral springs. it only took us about ten minutes on the train, and it only took us about half an hour to go to garfield beach. it is the only sand beach on salt lake, and some say it is the finest beach in the world, and they say that the sunsets viewed from this spot are so heavenly bright in their glowin' colors that no pen or tongue can describe 'em. the blue-green waves wuz dancin' as we stood on the shore, and we wuz told that if we fell in, the water would hold us up, but didn't try it, bein' in sunthin' of a hurry. at miss meechim's strong request we went on a pleasant trip to york city through the valley of the river of jordan. how good that name sounded to me! how much like scripter! but, alas! it made me think of one who had so often sung with me on the way home from evenin' meetin', as the full moon gilded the top of the democrat, and the surroundin' landscape: "by jordan's stormy banks we stand and cast a wistful eye on canaan's fair and happy land, where my possessions lie." oh, human love and longing, how strong thou art! i knowed that him meant the things of the sperit, but my human heart translated it, and i sithed and felt that the jordan my soul wuz passin' through wuz indeed a hard pathway, and i couldn't help castin' a wishful eye on jonesville's fair and happy land, where my earthly possession, my josiah, lay. but to resoom. we had hearn that polygamy wuz still practised there, and we had hearn that it wuzn't. but every doubt on that subject wuz laid to rest by an invitation we all had to go and visit a mormon family livin' not fur off, and miss meechim and i went, she not wantin' dorothy to hear a word on the subject. she said with reason, that after all her anxiety and labors to keep her from marryin' one man, what would be her feelin's to have her visit a man who had boldly wedded 'leven wives and might want a even dozen! i could see it to once, so didn't urge the matter, but left tommy with her and aronette. as nigh as i could make out, the mormons had felt that miss meechim and i wuz high in authority in gentile climes, one on us had that air of nobility and command that is always associated with high authority, and they felt that one on us could do their cause much good if they could impress us favorable with the custom, so they put their best twenty-four feet forward and did their level best to show off their doctrine in flyin' colors. but they didn't do any good to "one on us," nor to miss meechim, either; she's sound in doctrine, though kinder weak and disagreeable in spots. well, we found that this family lived in splendid style, and the husband and all his pardners acted happy whether they wuz or not. and i d'no how or why it wuz, but when we all sot down in their large cool parlor, miss meechim and i in our luxurious easy chairs, and our host in one opposite with his wife occupyin' 'leven chairs at his sides, a feelin' of pity swep' over me--pity for that man. yes, as i looked at that one lonely man, small boneded at that, and then looked at them 'leven portly wimmen that called that man "our husband," i pitied him like a dog. i had never thought of pityin' mormon men before, but had poured out all my pity and sympathy onto the female mormons. but havin' a mind like a oxes for strength, i begun to see matters in a new light, and i begun to spozen to myself, even whilst i sot there with my tongue keepin' up a light dialogue on the weather, the country, etc., with the man and his wife ('leven on 'em). i spozed what if they should all git mad at him at one time how wuz he goin' to bear their 'leven rages flashin' from twenty-two eyes, snortin' from 'leven upturned noses, fallin' from 'leven angry voices, and the angry jesters from twenty-two scornful hands. spozein' they all got to weepin' on his shoulder at one time how could one shoulder blade stand it under the united weight of 'leven full-sized females, most two ton of 'em, amidst more'n forty-four nervous sobs, for they would naterally gin more'n two apiece. in sickness now, if they wanted to soothe his achin' brow, and of course they would all want to, and have the right to. but how could twenty-two hands rest on that one small fore-top? sixty-six rubs at the least figger, for if they stroked his forehead at all they would want to stroke it three times apiece, poor creeter! would not delerium ensue instead of sooth? and spozein' they all took it into their heads to hang on his arm with both arms fondly whilst out walkin' by moonlight, how could twenty-two arms be accommodated by two small scrawny elbows? it couldn't be done. and as i mused on't i spoke right out onbeknown to me, and sez i: "the lord never meant it to be so; it hain't reasonable; it's aginst common sense." and the hull twelve sez, "what didn't the lord mean? what wuz aginst common sense?" and bein' ketched at it, i sez, "the mormon doctrine;" sez i, "to say nothin' on moral and spiritual grounds, and state rights, it's against reason and good sense." i felt mortified to think i had spoke out loud, but had to stand my ground after i had said it. but they all said that the mormon doctrine wuz the true belief, that it wuz writ in heaven, then it wuz engraved on plates, and dug up by joe smith, a latter day saint. sez i, "if anybody trys to prove sunthin' they want to, they can most always dig up sunthin' to prove it. you say a man dug this plate up; what if some woman should go to diggin' and find a plate provin' that one woman ort to have 'leven husbands?" "oh, no!" sez the man in deep scorn, "no such plate could be found!" the wimmen all looked as if they would kinder like to see such dishes, but they all sez faintly, "we don't spoze that it could be found." "but," i sez, "you don't know how many plates there are in the ground, nor who'll dig 'em up." "oh, that idee is preposterous!" sez the man, as visions of dividin' one woman's heart into eleven parts and reignin' over that little mossel riz up before him. "men never would agree to that; there would be mutiny, internal bloodshed and sizm." "well," sez i, "mebby there is more or less internal heart bleedin' goin' on in the wimmen's hearts that have to divide a man's love and care a dozen times." sez i, "a hull man's hull affections are onstiddy and wobblin' and oncertain enough without dividin' it up so many times." them wimmen wuz touched. i see a answerin' gleam of understandin' come into about twenty-one eyes as i spoke; one on 'em stood firm and looked hauty and cast iron, but i mistrusted it wuz a glass eye, but don't know, it might have been principle. and even on the man's small-sized countenance my words had seemed to make a impression. but yet he didn't want to give up in a minute; he spoke of how the mormons had flourished since they come to utah, how they had turned the desert into a garden, and he felt that the lord must look on 'em favorable or they wouldn't be so prosperous. "yes," sez i, not wantin' to lie, "your country is beautiful, it is in a flourishing state, and shows the good results of systematic labor, industry and ambition; you have made the desert bloom like the rosy, many of your ways and customs might be follered with profit by older communities, and more orthodox accordin' to my idees. but i don't know as your flourishin' in worldly affairs is any sign of god's favor," and i mentioned the scripter concernin' who it wuz that flourished like the green bayberry tree. so bein' driv out of that argument, he sez, forgittin' his own eleven proofs aginst his story bein' true: "polygamy is done away with anyway; the united states have abolished it in utah." and i sez: "well, i should be glad to think that wuz so, for one husband and one wife is as much as the lord in his mercy ort to ask one human creeter to tend to and put up with. not but what marriage is a beautiful institution and full of happiness if love props it up and gilds it with its blessed ray. but one is enough," sez i firmly, "and enough is as good as a feast." miss meechim sot silently by durin' this eloquent discussion--what she felt, she that abhorred the institution of marriage anyway--what she felt to look on and see folks so much married as these wuz, will forever remain a secret, but her looks wuz queer, very, and her nose fairly sought the heavens, it wuz held so high. a few of the wives brought in some refreshments to refresh us, and a few more waited on us and the small husband of their eleven hearts, and almost immegiately we tore ourselves away, takin' in ourn as we left, the hand of the husband and the eleven right hands of the wife. that evenin' i wuz told i wuz wanted in the parlor, and as i entered quite a good lookin' mormon man got up and advanced and broke out to once askin' my help. he said he'd read in the paper that i wuz there to that tarven, and knowin' i stood so high with the public he had ventered to ask my help. he had political yearnin's and wanted to set in the senate, but as i stood firm as iron again that idee his linement grew almost frenzied, and sez he: "do help me, do use your influence with your president. he's afraid of race suicide; tell him i'm the father of forty-seven children--will not that touch his heart?" "not a mite!" sez i, "his heart is as true as steel to his one wife and six children. it is a good manly heart that can't be led off by any such brazen statements." his linement looked lurid and half demented as he sez, "mebby some high church dignitaries would help me. or no," sez he, "go to the head of it all, go to the liquor power--that's the place to go to, that rules church and state, that makes the laws. oh, do go to the liquor power, and git it to let me set. i'll pay their usual price for makin' personal laws in a man's favor." the cold glare in my gray eye froze the words on his lip. "you ask me to go to the liquor power for help! do you know who you're speakin' to?" "yes," sez he feebly, "i'm speakin' to josiah allen's wife, and i want to set." his axent wuz heartbroken and i fancied that there wuz a little tone of repentance in it. could i influence him for the right? could i frighten him into the right path? i felt i must try, and i sez in a low, deep voice: "i'll help you to set if you'll set where i want you to." "oh, tell me! tell me," sez he, "where you want me to set." "not in the high halls where justice is administered, not up there with the pictures of your numerous wives on your heart to make laws condemnin' a man who has only one extra wife to prison for twenty years, which same law would condemn you to prison for 'most a century. that wouldn't be reasonable. presidents and senators are sot up there in washington d. c. as examplers for the young to foller and stimulate 'em to go and do likewise. such a example as yourn would stimulate 'em too much in matrimonial directions and land 'em in prison." he muttered sunthin' about lots of public men havin' other wives in secret. "in secret?" sez i. "well, mebby so, but it has to be in secret, hid away, wropped in disgrace, and if the law discovers it they are punished. that's a very different thing from makin' such a life respectable, coverin' 'em under the mantilly of the law, embroidered too with public honors." he turned away despairin'ly and murmured mekanically the old heart-broken wail, "i want to set." and i sez reasonably, "there is no objection to your settin' down, and if i had my way you would set right by them who have done only half or a quarter what you have and in the place the laws have made for them and you." he turned quick as a wink, "then you won't help me?" "yes," sez i, "i'll help all i can to put you right in with the others that have done jest what you have--openly set our laws at defiance. but if i know myself i won't help a tiger cat to hold a canary bird or a wolf to guard a sheep pen. i won't help a felon up on the seat of justice to make laws for innocent men." "innocent men!" and agin he sez, "ha! ha!" and agin i didn't care what he said. and i got up and sez, "you may as well leave the presence." and as he turned i sez in conclusion, thinkin' mebby i'd been too hash, "i dare say you have intellect and may be a good man so fur as i know only in this one iniquity and open defiance of our laws, and i advise you to turn right round in your tracks and git ready to set down on high, for you'll find it a much worse thing to prance round through all eternity without settin' than it is to not set here." he jest marched out of the door and didn't say good bye or good day or anything. but i didn't care. i knowed the minute his card wuz handed to me jest how many wives he had and how he wuz doin' all he could to uphold what he called his religion, but i did hope i'd done him some good but felt dubersome about it. but knowin' i'd clung to duty's apron strings i felt like leavin' the event. and when miss meechim come in i wuz settin' calm and serene in a big chair windin' some clouded blue and white yarn, aronette holdin' the skein. i'd brung along a lot of woollen yarn to knit josiah some socks on the way, to make me feel more homelike. and the next day we proceeded on to california. chapter v miss meechim and dorothy looked brighter and happier as every revolution of the wheels brought us nearer their old home, and they talked about robert strong and other old friends i never see. "be it ever so humbly, there is no place like hum." my heart sung them words and carried two parts, one sulferino and one bear tone. the high part caused by my lofty emotions and sweet recollections of home, that hallowed spot; the minor chords caused by feelin's i have so often recapitulated. tommy, as the day wore on, went to sleep, and i covered him tenderly on the seat with my little shoulder shawl, and sot there alone; alone, as the cars bore us onward, sometimes through broad green fields of alfalfa, anon over a bridge half a mile long, from whence you could look down and see the flowing stream beneath like a little skein of silver yarn glistening in the sun fur below, agin forests and valleys and farms and homesteads, and anon in an opening through a valley, high bluffs, beautifully colored, could be seen towering up over blue waters, up, up as if they wuz bent on touching the fleecy clouds overhead. and then a green sheltered valley, and then a high range of mountains seen fur off as if overlookin' things to see that all wuz well, anon a big city, then a village, then the green country agin, and so the pictures passed before me as i sot there. i had put on a pair of new cuffs and a collar, made for me and hemstitched by waitstill webb, and gin to me by her, though i wanted to pay her. sweet little creeter! how good she wuz to me and to everybody, and i thought of her sad history, and hoped that brighter days wuz ahead on her. i d'no as i've told the reader much about her history, and mebby i might as well whilst we are rushin' on so fast, and tommy is asleep. alan thorne, the young man she wuz engaged to, wuz brung up by a uncle who had a family of his own to love and tend to, but he did his duty by alan, gin him a good education and a comfortable, if not affectionate, home in his family. but it wuz a big family all bound up in each other, and alan had seemed like one who looks on through a winder at the banquet of life and love, kinder hungry and lonesome till he met waitstill webb. then their two hearts and souls rushed together like two streams of water down an inclined plane. they literally seemed to be two bodies with one heart, one soul, one desire, one aspiration. he had always been industrious, honest and hard workin'. now he had sunthin' to work for; and for the three years after he met waitstill he worked like a giant. he wuz earning a home for his wife, his idol; how happy he wuz in his efforts, his work, and how happy she wuz to see it, and to work herself in her quiet way for the future. he had bought a home about a mile out of the city, where he was employed, and had got it all payed for. it wuz a beautiful little cottage with a few acres of land round it, and he had got his garden all laid out and a orchard of fruit trees of all kinds, and trees and flowering shrubs and vines around the pretty cottage. there wuz a little pasture where he wuz to keep his cow and a horse, that she could take him with to his work mornings and drive round where she wanted to, and there wuz a meadow lot with a little rivulet running through it, and they had already planned a rustic bridge over the dancing stream, and a trout pond, and she had set out on its borders some water lilies, pink and white, and showy ladies and other wild flowers, and she jest doted on her posy garden and strawberry beds, and they'd bought two or three hives of bees in pretty boxes and took them out there; they had rented the place to a old couple till they wanted it themselves. and every holiday and sunday they walked out to their own place, and the sun did not shine any brighter on their little home than the sun of hope and happiness did in their hearts as they pictured their life there in that cozy nest. and alan thorne, after he loved waitstill, not only tried to win outward success for her sake; he tried to weed out all the weaknesses of his nater, to make himself more worthy of her. he said to himself when he would go to see her, he would "robe his soul in holiest purpose as for god himself." his pa had at one time in his life drank considerable, but he wuz not a drunkard, and he wuz a good bizness man when the fever carried him off, and his young wife out of the world the same year. well, alan wuz jest as industrious as he could be, and with his happy future to look forward to and waitstill's love and beloved presence to prop up his manhood, everything promised a fair and happy life for them both; till, like a thunder-cloud out of a clear sky come that deafening report from spanish brutality that blew up the _maine_ and this nation's peace and tranquility. dretful deed! awful calamity! that sent three hundred of our brave seamen onprepared to meet their god--without a second's warning. awful deed that cried to heaven for pity! but did it bring back these brave fellows sleeping in havana harbor to their mothers, wives and sweethearts, to have thousands more added to the list of the slain? "remember the _maine_!" how these words echoed from pulpit and senate and palace and hovel; how they wuz sung in verse, printed in poems, printed in flaming lines of electric light everywhere! from city to country, you saw and heard these words, "remember the _maine_!" i wondered then and i wonder now if the spirit of revenge that swep' through our nation at that time wuz the spirit of the master. i d'no nor josiah don't, whether it wuz right and best to influence the souls of the young till they burnt at white heat with the spirit that our lord said his disciples must avoid, for said he: "vengeance is mine, saith the lord." well, it is a deep question, deeper than i've got a line to measure; and josiah's line and mine both tied together don't begin to touch the bottom on't, for we've tried it time and agin. we've argyed aginst each other about it, and jined on and hitched our arguments together, and they didn't touch bottom then, nor begin to. as mrs. browning said (a woman i set store by, and always did, i've hearn thomas j. read about her so much): "a country's a thing men should die for at need." yes, to die for, if its safety is imperilled, that i believe and josiah duz, but i have eppisoded about it a sight, i've had to. i methought how this nation wuz stirred to its deepest depths; how it seethed and boiled with indignation and wrath because three hundred of its sons wuz killed by ignorant and vicious means; how it breathed out vengeance on the cause that slew them; how it called to arms! to arms! remember the _maine_! but how cool and demute it stood, or ruther sot, and see every year sixty thousand of its best sons slain by the saloon, ten-fold more cruel deaths, too, since the soul and mind wuz slain before their bodies went. no cry for vengeance as the long procession of the dead wheeled by the doors of the law-makers of the land; no cry: "to arms! to arms! remember the saloon." and more mysterious still, i eppisoded to myself, it would have looked to see the government rig out and sell to the spaniards a million more bombs and underground mines to blow up the rest of our ships and kill thousands more of our young men. wouldn't it have looked dog queer to the other nations of the world to have seen it done? but there they sot, our law-makers, and if they lifted their eyes at all to witness the long procession of the dead drift by, sixty thousand corpses yearly slain by the saloon, if they lifted their eyes at all to look at the ghastly procession, they dropped 'em agin quick as they could so's not to delay their work of signin' licenses, makin' new laws, fixin' over old ones, and writin' permits to the murderers to go on with their butchery. queer sight! queer in the sight of other nations, in the sight of men and angels, and of me and josiah. well, to stop eppisodin' and resoom backwards for a spell. alan thorne hearn that cry: "to arms! to arms!" and his very soul listened. his grandfathers on both sides wuz fighting men; at school and college he'd been trained in a soldier regiment, and had been steeped full of warlike idees, and they all waked up at his cry for vengeance. he had just got to go; it wuz to be. heaven and waitstill couldn't help it; he had to go; he went. well, waitstill read his letters as well as she could through her blindin' tears; letters at first full of love--the very passion of love and tenderness for his sweetheart, and deathless patriotism and love for his country. but bime-by the letters changed a little in their tones--they wuzn't so full of love for his country. "the country," so he writ, "wuz shamefully neglecting its sons, neglecting their comfort." he writ they wuz herded together in quarters not fit for a dog, with insufficient food; putrid, dretful food, that no dog would or could eat. no care taken of their health--and as for the health of their souls, no matter where they wuz, if half starved or half clad, the canteen was always present with 'em; if they could git nothin' else for their comfort, they could always git the cup that the bible sez: "cursed is he that puts it to his neighbor's lips." doubly cursed now--poisoned with adulteration, makin' it a still more deadly pizen. well, sickened with loathsome food he could not eat, half starved, the deadly typhoid hovering over the wretched soldier, is it any wonder that as the tempter held the glass to his lips (the tempter being the government he wuz fightin' for) the tempted yielded and drank? the letters waitstill got grew shorter and cooler, as the tempter led alan deeper and deeper into his castle of ruin where the demon sets and gloats over its victims. when the canteen had done its work on the crazed brain and imbruted body, other sins and evils our government had furnished and licensed, stood ready to draw him still further along the down-grade whose end is death. finally the letters stopped, and then waitstill, whose heart wuz broke, jined the noble army of nurses and went forward to the front, always hunting for the one beloved, and, as she feared, lost to her. and she found him. the very day that alan thorne, in a drunken brawl, killed arvilly's husband with a bullet meant for another drunken youth, these wimmen met. a rough lookin' soldier knelt down by the dead man, a weepin' woman fell faintin' on his still, dead heart; this soldier ('twas arville) wuz sick in bed for a week, waitstill tendin' him, or her i might as well say, for arville owned to her in her weakness that she wuz a woman; yes, waitstill tended her faithfully, white and demute with agony, but kep' up with the hope that the government that had ruined her lover would be lenient towards the crime it had caused. for she reasoned it out in a woman's way. she told arvilly "that alan would never have drank had not the government put the cup to his lips, and of course the government could not consistently condemn what it had caused to be." she reasoned it out from what she had learnt of justice and right in the bible. but arvilly told her--for as quick as she got enough strength she wuz the same old arvilly agin, only ten times more bent on fightin' aginst the drink demon that murdered her husband. sez arvilly: "you don't take into consideration the tariff and saloon arguments of apologizin' church and state, the tax money raised from dead men, and ruined lives and broken hearts to support poor-houses and jails and police to take care of their victims." no; waitstill reasoned from jest plain bible, but of course she found out her mistake. arvilly said: "you'll find the nation that opens its sessions with prayer, and engraves on its money, 'in god we trust,' don't believe in such things. you'll find their prayers are to the liquor dealers; their god is the huge idol of expediency." alan thorne wuz hung for the murder, guilty, so the earthly court said. but who wuz sot down guilty in god's great book of justice that day? arvilly believes that over alan thorne's name wuz printed: "alan thorne, foolish boy, tempted and ondone by the country he was trying to save." and then this sentence in fiery flame: "the united states of america, guilty of murder in the first degree." dretful murder, to take the life of the one that loved it and wuz tryin' to save it. well, arvilly's last thing to love wuz taken from her cruelly, and when she got strong enough she sot off for jonesville in her soldier clothes, for she thought she would wear 'em till she got away, but she wuz brung back as a deserter and waitstill stood by her durin' her trial, and after alan's death she too wuz smit down, like a posy in a cyclone. arvilly, in her own clothes now, tended her like a mother, and as soon as she wuz able to travel took her back to jonesville, where they make their home together, two widders, indeed, though the weddin' ring don't show on one of their hands. waitstill goes about doin' good, waitin' kinder still, some like her name, till the lord sends her relief by the angel that shall stand one day in all our homes. she don't talk much. but arvilly's grief is different. she told me one day when i wuz tellin' her to chirk up and be more cheerful and comfortable: "i don't want to be comfortable; i don't want to feel any different." "whyee, arvilly!" sez i, "don't you want to see any happiness agin?" "no, i don't," sez she, "i don't want to take a minute's comfort and ease while things are in the state they be." sez she, "would you want to set down happy, and rock, and eat peanuts, if you knew that your husband and children wuz drowndin' out in the canal?" "no," sez i, "no, indeed! i should rush out there bareheaded, and if i couldn't save 'em, would feel like dyin' with 'em." "well," sez she, short as pie crust, "that's jest how i feel." i believe and so josiah duz that arvilly would walk right up to a loaded cannon and argy with it if she thought it would help destroy the saloon, and after she had convinced the cannon she would be perfectly willin' to be blowed up by it if the saloon wuz blowed up too. well, i sot thinkin' of all this till tommy waked up and we all went out into the dining car and had a good meal. we wuz a little over two days goin' from salt lake city to san francisco, and durin' that time i calculated that i eat enough dirt, that bitter alkali sand, to last lawful all my life. i believe one peck of dirt is all the law allows one person to consume durin' their life. it seems as if i eat more than enough to meet legal requirements for me and josiah, and i seemed to have a thick coatin' of it on my hull person. and poor little tommy! i tried to keep his face clean and that wuz all i could do. but as we drew nearer to california the weather became so balmy and delightful that it condoned for much that wuz onpleasant, and i sez to myself, the lovely views i have seen between chicago and california i shall never forgit as long as memory sets up in her high chair. what a panorama it wuz--beautiful, grand, delightful, majestic, sublime--no words of mine can do it justice. no. i can never describe the views that opened on our admirin' and almost awe-struck vision as the cars advanced through natural openin's in the mountains and anon artificial ones. why, i had thought that the hill in front of old grout nickelson's wuz steep, and the road a skittish one that wound around it above the creek. but imagine goin' along a road where you could look down thousands of feet into running water, and right up on the other side of you mountains thousands of feet high. and you between, poor specks of clay with only a breath of steam to keep you agoin' and prevent your dashin' down into that enormous abyss. but grandeur sot on them mountain tops, glory wuz enthroned on them sublime heights and depths, too beautiful for words to describe, too grand for human speech to reproduce agin, the soul felt it and must leave it to other souls to see and feel. on, on through mountain, valley, gorge and summit, waves of green foliage, rocks all the beautiful colors of the rainbow, majestic shapes, seemin'ly fashioned for a home for the gods; white peaks--sun-glorified, thousands of feet high with blue sky above; ravines thousands of feet deep with a glint of blue water in the depths, seemin' to mirror to us the truth that god's love and care wuz over and under us. and so on and on; valleys, mountains, clear lakes, forests and broad green fields, tree sheltered farms, and anon the broad prairie. it wuz all a panorama i never tired of lookin' at, and lasted all the way to california. as our stay wuz to be so short in san francisco, miss meechim and dorothy thought it would be best to go to a hotel instead of openin' dorothy's grand house; so we all went to the tarven miss meechim picked out, the beautifullest tarven that ever i sot eyes on, it seemed to me, and the biggest one. havin' felt the swayin', jiggerin' motion of the cars so long, it wuz indeed a blessin' to set my foot on solid ground once more, and tommy and i wuz soon ensconced in a cozy room, nigh miss meechim's sweet rooms. for she still insisted on callin' their rooms sweet, and i wouldn't argy with her, for i spoze they did seem sweet to her. tommy wuz tired out and i had to take him in my arms and rock him, after we'd had our supper, a good meal which miss meechim had brung up into their settin'-room, though i insisted on payin' my part on't (she's a good creater, though weak in some ways). well i rocked tommy and sung to him: "sweet fields beyend the swellin' flood." and them sweet fields in my mind wuz our own orchard and paster, and the swellin' flood i thought on wuzn't death's billers, but the waters that rolled between california and jonesville. not one word had i hearn from my pardner sence leavin' new york. "oh, dear josiah! when shall i see thee agin?" so sung my heart, or ruther chanted, a deep solemn chant. "where art thou, josiah, and when shall we meet agin? and why, why do i not hear from thee?" the next mornin' after we arrived at san francisco, robert strong appeared at the hotel bright and early, and i don't know when i've ever seen anybody i liked so well. miss meechim invited me into her settin'-room to see him. havin' hearn so much about his deep, earnest nater and deathless desire to do all the good he could whilst on his earthly pilgrimage, i expected to see a grave, quiet man with lines of care and conflict engraved deep on his sober, solemn visage. but i wuz never more surprised to see a bright, laughin', happy face that smiled back into mine as albina meechim proudly introduced her nephew to me. why, thinkses i to myself, where can such strength of character, such noble purpose, such original and successful business habits be hidden in that handsome, smilin' face and them graceful, winnin' ways, as he laughed and talked with his aunt and dorothy. but anon at some chance word of blame and criticism from miss meechim, makin' light of his city of justice and its inhabitants, a light blazed up in his eyes and lit up his face, some as a fire in our open fireplace lights up the spare-room, and i see stand out for a minute on the background of his fair handsome face a picture of heroism, love, endeavor that fairly stunted me for a time. and i never felt afterwards anything but perfect confidence in him; no matter how light and trifling wuz his talk with dorothy, or how gay and boyishly happy wuz his clear laughter. he had worked well and faithful, givin' his hull mind and heart to his endeavor to do all the good he could, and now he wuz bound to play well, and git all the good and rest he could out of his play spell. and i hadn't been with 'em more'n several hours before i thought that i had seen further into his heart and hopes and intentions than miss meechim had in all her born days. robert strong, before he went away, invited us all to go and see his city of justice, and we agreed with considerable satisfaction to do so, or at least i did and i spoze the rest did. miss meechim would be happy in any place where her nephew wuz, that you could see plain, as much as she disapproved of his methods. dorothy, i couldn't see so plain what she did think, she bein' one that didn't always let her lips say everything her heart felt, but she used robert real polite, and we all had a real agreeable visit. robert got a big carriage and took us all out driving that afternoon, miss meechim and i settin' on the back seat, and robert and dorothy facing us, and tommy perched on robert's knee; tommy jest took to him, and visey-versey. robert thought he wuz just about the brightest little boy he had ever seen, and tommy sot there, a little pale but happy, and wonnered about things, and robert answered all his "wonners" so fur as he could. we drove through beautiful streets lined with elegant houses, and the dooryards wuz a sight. think of my little scraggly geraniums and oleanders and cactuses i've carried round in my hands all winter and been proud on. and then think of geranium and oleander trees just as common as our maples and loaded with flowers. and palm and bananna trees, little things we brood over in our houses in the winter, and roses that will look spindlin' with me, do the best i can, in december, all growin' out-doors fillin' the air with fragrance. robert strong said we must go to the cliff house, and tommy wanted to see the seals. poor things! i felt bad to see 'em and to think there wuz a war of extermination tryin' to be waged aginst 'em, because they interfered with the rights of a few. one of the most interesting animals on the western continent! it seems too bad they're tryin' to wipe 'em out of existence because the fishermen say they eat a sammon now and then. why shouldn't they who more than half belong to the water-world once in a great while have a little taste of the good things of that world as well as to have 'em all devoured by the inhabitants of dry land? and they say that the seals eat sharks too--i should think that that paid for all the good fish they eat. but to resoom. tommy didn't think of the rights or the wrongs of the seals, he had no disquietin' thoughts to mar his anticipations, but he wonnered if he could put his hands through 'em like he could his ma's seal muff. he thought that they wuz muffs, silk lined--the idee! and he "wonnered" a sight when he see the great peaceable lookin' creeters down in the water and on the rocks, havin' a good time, so fur as we could see, in their own world, and mindin' their own bizness; not tryin' to git ashore and kill off the fishermen, because they ketched so many sammons. and tommy had to feed the seals and do everything he could do, robert strong helpin' him in everything he undertook, and he "wonnered" if they would ever be changed into muffs, and he "wonnered" if they would like to be with "ribbon bows on." at my request we went through lone mountain cemetery, a low mountain rising from the sandy beach full of graves shaded by beautiful trees and myriads of flowers bending over the silent sleepers, the resistless sea washing its base on one side--just as the sea of death is washing up aginst one side of life--no matter how gay and happy it is. we rode home through a magnificent park of two thousand acres. money had turned the sandy beach into a wealth of green lawns, beautiful trees and myriads of flowers. i had always sposed that them eastern genis in the "arabian nights" had palaces and things about as grand and luxurious as they make, but them old genis could have got lots of pinters in luxury and grand surroundin's if they'd seen the homes of these nabobs in the environins of san francisco. no tongue can tell the luxury and elegance of them abodes, and so i hain't a goin' to git out of patience with my tongue if it falters and gins out in the task. chapter vi the next mornin' while miss meechim and dorothy wuz to the lawyers, tendin' to that bizness of hern and gittin' ready for their long tower, robert strong took me through one of them palaces. it stood only a little distance from the city and wuz occupied by one old gentleman, the rest of the family havin' died off and married, leavin' him alone in his glory. well said, for glory surrounded the hull spot. there wuz three hundred acres, all gardens and lawns and a drivin' park and a park full of magestick old live oaks, and acres and acres of the most beautiful flowers and all the choicest fruit you could think of. the great stately mansion was a sight to go through--halls, libraries, gilded saloons, picture galleries, reception halls lined with mirrors, billiard rooms, bowling alleys, whatever that may be, dining rooms, with mirrors extending from the floor to the lofty ceilin's. i wondered if the lonely old occupant ever see reflected in them tall mirrors the faces of them who had gone from him as he sot there at that table, like some solomon on his throne. but all he had to do wuz to press his old foot on a electric bell under the table, and forty servants would enter. but i'dno as he'd want 'em all--i shouldn't--it would take away my appetite, i believe. twenty carriages of all kinds and thirty blooded horses wuz in his stables, them stables bein' enough sight nicer than any dwellin' house in jonesville. but what did that feeble old man want of twenty carriages? to save his life he couldn't be in more than one to a time; and i am that afraid of horses, i felt that i wouldn't swap the old mair for the hull on 'em. at my strong request we made a tower one day to see stanford university, that immense schoolhouse that is doin' so much good in the world; why, good land! it is larger than you have any idee on; why, take all the schoolhouses in jonesville and loontown and zoar and put 'em all together, and then add to them all the meetin' houses in all them places and then it wouldn't be half nor a quarter so big as this noble schoolhouse. and the grounds about it are beautiful, beautiful! we wuz shown through the buildin', seein' all the helps to learning of all kinds and the best there is in the world. and how proud i felt to think what one of my own sect had done in that great werk. how the cross of agony laid on her shoulders had turned to light that will help guide over life's tempestenus ten millions yet onborn. and i sez: "how happy young leeland must be to know his death has done such grand work, and to see it go on." "why," sez meechim, "how could he see it? he's dead." sez i: "don't you spoze the lord would let him see what a great light his death has lit up in the werld. in my opinion he wuz right there to-day lookin' at it." "that is impossible," sez she. "if he wuz there we should have seen him." sez i: "you don't see the x-rays that are all about you this very minute; but they are there. you can't see the great force marconi uses to talk with, but it walks the earth, goes right through mountains, which you and i can't do, miss meechim. it is stronger than the solid earth or rock. that shows the power of the invisible, that what we call the real is the transitory and weak, the invisible is the lasting and eternal. what we have seen to-day is sorrow chrystalized into grand shapes. a noble young heart's ideal and asperations wrought out by loveng memory in brick and mortar. the invisible guiding the eye, holding the hand of the visible building for time and eternity." miss meechim's nose turned up and she sniffed some. she wuz a foreigner, how could she know what i said? but dorothy and robert seemed to understand my language, though they couldn't speak it yet. and good land! i hain't learnt its a b c's yet, and don't spoze i shall till i git promoted to a higher school. well, it wuz on a lovely afternoon that we all went out to the city of justice, and there i see agin what great wealth might do in lightening the burdens of a sad world. robert strong might have spent his money jest as that old man did whose place i have described, and live in still better style, for robert strong wuz worth millions. but he felt different; he felt as if he wanted his capital to lighten the burden on the aching back of bowed down and tired out labor, and let it stand up freer and straighter for a spell. he felt that he could enjoy his wealth more if it wuz shared accordin' to the bible, that sez if you have two coats give to him that hasn't any, and from the needy turn not thou away. that big building, or ruther that cluster and village of buildings, didn't need any steeples to tell its mission to the world. lots of our biggest meetin' houses need 'em bad to tell folks what they stand for. if it wuzn't for them steeples poor folks who wander into 'em out of their stifling alleys and dark courts wouldn't mistrust what they wuz for. they would see the elegantly dressed throng enter and pass over carpeted aisles into their luxuriously cushioned pews, and kneel down on soft hassocks and pray: "thy kingdom come," and "give us this day our daily bread," and "give us what we give others." these poor folks can't go nigh 'em, for the usher won't let 'em, but they meet 'em through the week, or hear of 'em, and know that they do all in their power to keep his kingdom of love and justice away from the world. they herd in their dark, filthy, death-cursed tenements, not fit for beasts, owned by the deacon of that church, and all the week run the gauntlet of those drink hells, open to catch all their hard-earned pennies, owned by the warden and vestrymen and upheld by the clergymen and them high in authority, and extolled as the poor man's club. wimmen who see their husbands enticed to spend all their money there and leave them and their children starving and naked; mothers who see their young boys in whom they tried to save a spark of their childish innocence ground over in these mills of the devil into brutal ruffians who strike down the care-worn form of the one that bore them in agony, and bent over their cradle with a mother's love and hope. as they see all this, and know that this is the true meaning of the prayers put up in them elegant churches, don't they need steeples to tell that they're built to show christ's love and justice to the world? yes, indeed; they need steeples and high ones, too. but this city of robert strong's didn't need steeples, as i say. it wuz christianity built in bricks and mortar, practical religion lived right before 'em from day to day, comfortable houses for workmen, which they could hope to earn and call their own. pleasant homes where happy love could dwell in content, because no danger stood round, hid in saloons to ruin husband, son and father; comfortable houses where health and happiness could dwell. good wages, stiddy work, and a share in all the profits made there; good hard work whilst they did work, ensurin' success and prosperity; but short hours, ensurin' sunthin' beyond wages. a big house, called a pleasure house, stood in the centre of the broad, handsome streets, a sort of a centrepiece from which streams of happiness and health flowed through the hull city, some as them little rills of pure snow water flowed through the streets of salt lake and denver. where all sorts of innocent recreation could be found to suit all minds and ages. a big library full of books. a museum full of the riches of science and art. a big music hall where lovers of music could find pleasure at any time, and where weekly concerts was given, most of the performers being of the musically inclined amongst the young people in the city of justice. a pretty little theatre where they could act out little plays and dramas of a helpful, inspirin' sort. a big gymnasium full of the best appliances and latest helps to physical culture. a large bathing tank where the white marble steps led down to cool, sweet waters flowing through the crystal pool, free to all who wanted to use it. a free telephone linking the hull place together. i roamed along through the beautiful streets and looked on the happy, cheerful-faced workmen, who thronged them now, for their short day's work wuz ended and they wuz goin' home. my heart swelled almost to bustin' and i sez almost unbeknown to myself, to robert strong who wuz walkin' by my side: "we read about the new jerusalem comin' down to earth, and if i didn't know, robert strong, that you had founded this city yourself, i should think that this wuz it." he laughed his boyish laugh, but i see the deep meanin' in his clear, gray eyes and knew what he felt, though his words wuz light. "oh no," sez he, "we read that those gates are pearl; these are just common wood, turned out by my workmen." sez i, "the pearl of love and good will to man, the precious stun of practical religion and justice shines on these gates and every buildin' here, and i bless the lord that i have ever lived to see what i have to-day." and i took out my snowy linen handkerchief and shed some tears on it, i was so affected. robert strong wuz touched to his heart, i see he wuz, but kep' up, his nater bein' such. miss meechim and dorothy wuz walkin' a little ahead, tommy between 'em. and anon we come to the house robert lived in; not a bit better than the others on that street, but a nice comfortable structure of gray stun and brick, good enough for anybody, with wide sunshiny windows, fresh air, sunshine, plenty of books, musical instruments and furniture good enough, but nothing for show. here his motherly-looking housekeeper spread a nice lunch for us. his overseer dined with us, a good-looking chap, devoted to robert strong, as i could see, and ready to carry out his idees to the full. miss meechim couldn't find anything, it seemed to me, to pick flaws in, but she did say to me out to one side, "just think how robert lives in a house no better than his workmen, and he might live in a palace." sez i, warmly, "robert strong's body may stay in this comfortable brick house, good enough for anybody, but the real robert strong dwells in a royal palace, his soul inhabits the temple of the lord, paved with the gold and pearl of justice and love, and its ruff reaches clear up into heaven from where he gits the air his soul breathes in." "do you think so? i never thought of it in that light; i have thought his ideas was erroneous and so my clergyman thinks. rev. dr. weakdew said to me there were a great many texts that he had preached from all his life, that if these ideas of robert's was carried out universally, would be destroyed and rendered meaningless. texts it had always been such a comfort to him to preach from, he said, admonishing the poor of their duty to the rich, and comforting the poor and hungry and naked with assurances that though hungry here they may partake of the bread of life above, if they are humble and patient and endure to the end, and though shivering and naked here, they may be clothed in garments of light above." and i sez, "bein' that we are all in this world at present, i believe the lord would ruther we should cover the naked limbs and feed the starvin' bodies here, and now, and leave the futur to him." but miss meechim shook her head sadly. "it sounds well," sez she, "but there is something wrong in any belief that overthrows scripture and makes the poor wealthy." "well," sez i, "if it wuz our naked backs that the snow fell on, and the hail pelted, and our stomachs that wuz achin' and faint for food, we should sing a different tune." "i trust that i should sing a gospel tune in any event," sez she. "well," sez i, "we needn't quarrel about that, for we couldn't feel much like singin' in them cases. but if we did sing i think a good hymn would be: blest be the tie that binds our hearts in christian love. "and if the rich and poor, capital and labor would all jine in and sing this from the heart the very winders of heaven would open to hear the entrancin' strains," sez i. but i don't spoze i changed her mind any. dorothy bein' naterally so smart, wuz impressed by all we had seen, i could see she wuz, and when he wuzn't lookin' at her i could see her eyes rest on robert strong's face with a new expression of interest and approval. but she wuz full of light, happiness and joy--as she ort to be in her bright youth--and she and robert and miss meechim spoke of the trip ahead on us with happy anticipations. but i--oh, that deep, holler room in my heart into which no stranger looked; that room hung with dark, sombry black; remembrances of him the great ocean wuz a-goin' to sever me from--he on land and i on sea--ten thousand miles of land and water goin' to separate us; how could i bear it, how wuz i goin' to stand it? i kep' up, made remarks and answered 'em mekanically, but oh, the feelin's i felt on the inside. how little can we tell in happy lookin' crowds how many of the gay throng hear the rattle of their own private skeletons above the gayest music! well, we got home to the palace hotel in good season, i a-talkin' calmly and cheerfully, but sayin' in the inside, "'mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam, be it ever so humbly there is no place like home." my home wuz my pardner, the place where he wuz would look better than any palace. i went up to my room and after gettin' tommy to bed, who wuz cross and sleepy, i finished the letter to my help, for we wuz goin' to start in the mornin'. "oh, philury!" the letter run, "my feelin's, you cannot parse 'em, even if you wuz better grounded in grammar than i think you be. not one word from my beloved pardner do i hear--is josiah dead?" sez i. "but if he is don't tell me; i could not survive, and tommy has got to be went with. but oh! if sickness and grief for me has bowed that head, bald, but most precious to me, deal with him as you would deal with a angel unawares. bile his porridge, don't slight it or let it be lumpy, don't give him dish-watery tea, brile his toast and make his beef tea as you would read chapters of scripter--carefully and not with eye service. hang my picter on the wall at the foot of the bed, and if it affects him too much, hang my old green braize veil over it, you'll find it in the hall cupboard." but why should i sadden and depress the hearts of a good natered public? i writ seven sheets of foolscap, and added to what i had already writ, it made it too big to send by mail, so i put it in a collar box and sent it by express, charges paid, for i knew the dear man it wuz addressed to, if he wuz still able to sense anything, would like it better that way. and then my letter sent off i begun to pack my hair trunk anew. well, the day dawned gloriously. i spoze i must have slep' some, for when i opened my eyes i felt refreshed. tommy wuz awake in his little bed and "wonnerin'" at sunthin' i spoze, for he always wuz, and breakfast wuz partook of by the hull party, for robert strong had come with a big carriage to take us to the ship and took breakfast with us, and soon, too soon for me, we stood on the wharf, surrounded by a tumultous crowd, goin' every which way; passengers goin', visitors comin', and officials from the ship goin' about tending to everything; trunks and baggage being slammed down and then anon being run onto the ship, miss meechim's, dorothy's and robert strong's baggage piled up on one side on us and i carefully keepin' watch and ward over a small-sized hair trunk, dear to me as my apples in my eyes, because every inch on it seemed to me like a sooveneer of that dear home i might never see agin. as i stood holdin' tommy by the hand and keepin' eagle watch over that trunk, how much did that big ship look like a big monster that wuz agoin' to tear my heart all to pieces, tearin' my body from the ground that kep' my pardner on its bosom. tears that i could not restrain dribbled down my roman nose and onto my gray alpacky waist; dorothy see 'em and slipped her kind little hand into mine and soothed my agony by gently whisperin': "maybe you'll get a letter from him on the ship, aunt samantha." well, the last minute come, the hair trunk had been tore from my side, and i, too, had to leave terry firmy, whisperin' to myself words that i'd hearn, slightly changed: "farewell, my josiah! and if forever, still forever fare thee well." my tears blinded me so i could only jest see tommy, who i still held hold of. i reached the upper deck with falterin' steps. but lo, as i stood there wipin' my weepin' eyes, as the him sez, i hearn sunthin' that rung sweetly and clearly on my ears over all the conflicting sounds and confusion, and that brung me with wildly beatin' heart to the side of the ship. "samantha! stop the ship! wait for me! i am comin'!" could it be? yes it wuz my own beloved pardner, madly racin' down the wharf, swingin' his familiar old carpet satchel in his hand, also huggin' in his arms a big bundle done up in newspaper, which busted as he reached the water's edge, dribblin' out neckties, bandanna handkerchiefs, suspenders, cookies, and the dressin' gown with tossels. he scrambled after 'em as well as he could in his fearful hurry, and his arms bein' full, he threw the dressin' gown round his shoulders and madly raced over the gang plank, still emitting that agonizing cry: "samantha, wait for me! stop the ship!" which he kep' up after i had advanced onward and he held both my hands in hisen. oh, the bliss of that moment! no angel hand, no reporter even for the new york papers could exaggerate the blessedness of that time, much as they knew about exaggeration. tears of pure joy ran down both our faces, and all the sorrows of the past seperation seemed to dissolve in a golden mist that settled down on everything round us and before us. the land looked good, the water looked good, the sky showered down joy as well as sunshine; we wuz together once more. we had no need of speech to voice our joy; but anon josiah did say in tremblin' axents as he pressed both my hands warmly in hisen: "samantha, i've come!" and i, too, sez in a voice tremblin' with emotion: "dear josiah, i see you have." and then i sez tenderly as i helped him off with the dressin' gown: "i thought you said you couldn't leave the farm, josiah." "well, i wuz leavin' it; i wuz dyin'; i thought i might as well leave it one way as t'other. i couldn't live without you, and finally i ketched up what clothes i could in my hurry and sot out, thinkin' mebby i could ketch you in chicago. you see i have got my dressin' gown and plenty of neckties." "well," sez i in my boundless joy and content, "there are things more necessary on a long sea voyage than neckties, but i've got some socks most knit, and i can buy some underclothes, and we will git along first rate." "yes, arvilly said so." sez he, "arvilly told me you'd manage." "arvilly?" sez i, in surprised axents. "yes, arvilly concluded to come too. she said that if you hadn't started so quick she should have come with you. but when she found out i was comin' she jest set right off with me. she's brung along that book she's agent for, 'the twin crimes of america: intemperance and greed.' she thinks she can most pay her way sellin' it. she jest stopped on the wharf to try to sell a copy to a minister. but here she is." and, sure enough, she that wuz arvilly lanfear advanced, puttin' some money in her pocket, she had sold her book. well, i wuz surprised, but glad, for i pitied arvilly dretfully for what she had went through, and liked her. two passengers had gin up goin' at the last minute or they couldn't have got tickets. i advanced towards her and sez: "arvilly lanfear! or she that wuz, is it you?" "yes, i've come, and if ever a human creeter come through sufferin' i have. why, i've been agent for 'the wild deeds of men' for years and years, but i never knew anything about 'em till i come on this tower. i thought that i should never git that man here alive. he has wep' and wailed the hull durin' time for fear we shouldn't ketch you." "oh, no, arvilly!" sez the joyous-lookin' josiah. "i can prove it!" sez she, catchin' out his red and yeller bandanna handkerchief from his hat, where he always carries it: "look at that, wet as sop!" sez she, as she held it up. it wuz proof, josiah said no more. "i knew we should ketch you, for i knew you would stop on the way. i thought i would meet you at the deepo to surprise you. but i had to bank my house; i wuzn't goin' to leave it to no underlin' and have my stuff freeze. but when i hern that josiah wuz comin' i jest dropped my spade--i had jest got done--ketched up my book and threw my things into my grip, my trunk wuz all packed, and here i am, safe and sound, though the cars broke down once and we wuz belated. we have just traipsed along a day or two behind you all the way from chicago, i not knowin' whether i could keep him alive or not." sez i fondly, "what devoted love!" "what a natural fool!" sez arvilly. "did it make it any better for him to cry and take on? that day we broke down and had to stop at a tarven i wuz jest mad enough, and writ myself another chapter on 'the wild deeds of men,' and am in hopes that the publisher will print it. it will help the book enormously i know. how you've stood it with that man all these years, i don't see; rampin' round, tearin' and groanin' and actin'. he didn't act no more like a perfessor than--than captain kidd would if he had been travelin' with a neighborin' female, pursuin' his wife, and that female doin' the best she could for him. i kep' tellin' him that he would overtake you, but i might as well have talked to the wind--a equinoctial gale," sez she. josiah wuz so happy her words slipped offen him without his sensin' 'em and i wuz too happy to dispute or lay anything up, when she went on and sez: "i spoze that folks thought from our jawin' so much that we wuz man and wife; and he a yellin' out acrost the sleeper and kinder cryin', and i a hollerin' back to him to 'shet up and go to sleep!' it is the last time i will ever try to carry a man to his wife; but i spozed when i started with him, he bein' a perfessor, he would act different!" "well," sez i, in a kind of a soothin' tone, "i'm real glad you've come, arvilly; it will make the ship seem more like jonesville, and i know what you have went through." "well," sez she, "no other livin' woman duz unless it is you." she kep' on thinkin' of josiah, but i waved off that idee; i meant her tribulations in the army. and i sez, "you may as well spend your money travelin' as in any other way." "yes, i love to travel when i can travel with human creeters, and i might as well spend my money for myself as to leave it for my cousins to fight over, and i can pay my way mostly sellin' my book; and i've left my stuff so it won't spile." "where is waitstill webb?" sez i. "oh, waitstill has gone back to be a nurse--she's gone to the philippines." sez i gladly, "then we shall see her, arvilly." "yes," sez she, "and that wuz one reason that i wanted to go, though she's acted like a fool, startin' off agin to help the govermunt. i've done my last work for it, and i told her so; i sez, if see the govermunt sinkin' in a mud hole i wouldn't lift a finger to help it out. i always wanted to see china and japan, but never spozed i should." "it is a strange providence, indeed, arvilly, that has started us both from jonesville to china. but," sez i, "let me make you acquainted with the rest of our party," and i introduced 'em. josiah wuz embracin' tommy and bein' embraced, and he had seen 'em all but robert strong. chapter vii in a few minutes the great ship begun to breathe hard, as if tryin' to git up strength for the move, and kinder shook itself, and gin a few hoarse yells, and sot off, seemin' to kinder tremble all over with eagerness to be gone. and so we sot sail, but ship and shore and boundless water all looked beautiful and gay to me. what a change, what a change from the feelin's i had felt; then the cold spectral moonlight of loneliness rested on shore and golden gate, now the bright sun of love and happiness gilded 'em with their glorious rays, and i felt well. well might mr. drummond say, "love is the greatest thing in the world." and as i looked on my precious pardner i bethought fondly, no matter how little a man may weigh by the steelyards, or how much a arvilly may make light on him, if love is enthroned in his person he towers up bigger than the hull universe. and so, filled with joy radiatin' from the presence of the best beloved, and under the cloudless sunshine of that glorious day, i set out on my trip abroad. yes, i wuz once more embarked on that great watery world that lays all round us and the continents, and we can't help ourselves. and the days follered one another along in injin file, trampin' silently and stiddily on, no matter where we be or what we do. so we sailed on and on, the ship dashin' along at i don't know how many knots an hour. probably the knots would be enough if straightened out to make a hull hank of yarn, and mebby more. part of the time the waves dashin' high. mebby the pacific waves are a little less tumultous and high sweepin' than the atlantic, a little more pacific as it were, but they sway out dretful long, and dash up dretful high, bearin' us along with 'em every time, up and down, down and up, and part of the time our furniture and our stomachs would foller 'em and sway, too, and act. the wind would soar along, chasin' after us, but never quite ketchin' us; sometimes abaft, sometimes in the fo'castle, whatever that may be. and under uz wuz the great silent graveyard, the solemn, green aisles, still and quiet, and no knowin' how soon we should be there, too, surrounded by the riches of that lost world of them that go down in ships, but not doin' us any good. only a board or two and some paint between us and destruction (but then i don't know as we are seperated any time very fur from danger, earthquakes, tornados and such). and good land! i would tell myself and josiah, for that matter i've known wimmen to fall right out of their chairs and break themselves all up more or less, and fall often back steps and suller stairs and such. but 'tennyrate i felt real riz up as i looked off on the heavin' billers, and faith sez to me, "why should i fear since i sailed with god." the seas, i am journeying, i told myself with duty on one side of me and on the other side josiah, and the sun of love over all. i got along without any seasickness to speak of, but my pardner suffered ontold agonies--or no, they wuzn't ontold, he told 'em all to me--yes, indeed! tommy "wonnered" what made the big vessel sail on so fast, and what made so much water, where it all come from, and where it wuz all goin' to. and at night he would lay on his little shelf and "wonner" what the wind wuz sayin'; one night he spoke out kinder in rhyme, sez he: "grandma, do you know what the wind is sayin?" and i sez: "no, dear lamb; what is it sayin'?" it has sounded dretful, kinder wild and skairful to me, and so it had to josiah, i knew by the sithes he had gin. sez tommy, it sez: "don't be afraid my little child, god will take care of you all the while." and i sez, "thank you, tommy, you've done me good." and i noticed that josiah seemed more contented and dropped off to sleep real sweet, though he snored some. sometimes tommy would "wonner" what seasickness wuz like, if it wuz any like measles, but didn't find out, for he wuzn't sick a day, but wandered about the great ship, happy as a king, making friends everywhere, though robert strong remained his chief friend and helper. dorothy wuz more beautiful than ever it seemed to me, a shadow of paleness over her sweet face peeping out from the white fur of her cunning little pink hood, makin' her look sweeter than ever. there wuz two or three handsome young men on board who appreciated her beauty, and i spoze the gold setting of her charming youth. but miss meechim called on robert strong to help protect her, which he did willingly enough, so fur as i could see, by payin' the most devoted attention to her himself, supplying every real or fancied want, reading to and with her, and walking up and down the deck with her, she leanin' on his arm in slippery times. "dear boy!" said miss meechim, "how lovely he is to me. he would much rather spend his time with the men in the smoking and reading room, but he has always been just so; let me express a wish and he flies to execute it. he knows that i wouldn't have dorothy marry for all the world, and had it not been for his invaluable help i fear that she would have fallen a prey to some man before this." "she is a pretty girl," sez i, "pretty as a pink rosy." "yes," sez she, "she is a sweet girl and as good as she is beautiful." [illustration: there wuz the usual variety of people on the ship.--page .] there was the usual variety of people on the ship. the rich family travelin' with children and servants and unlimited baggage; the party of school girls with the slim talkative teacher in spectacles, tellin' 'em all the pints of interest, and stuffin' 'em with knowledge gradual but constant; the stiddy goin' business men and the fashionable ones; the married flirt and the newly married bride and husband, sheepish lookin' but happy; old wimmen and young ones; young men and old ones; the sick passenger confined to his bed, but devourin' more food than any two well ones--seven meals a day have i seen carried into that room by the steward, while a voice weak but onwaverin' would call for more. there wuz a opera singer, a evangelist, an english nobleman, and a party of colored singers who made the night beautiful sometimes with their weird pathetic melodies. there wuz two missionaries on board, one the rev. dr. wessel, real dignified actin' and lookin'--he wuz goin' out as a missionary to china, and a young lady going out as a missionary to africa, evangeline noble--she wuz a member of some kind of a sisterhood, so she wuz called sister evangeline. i sot a sight of store by her the first time i laid eyes on her. anybody could see that she wuz one of the lord's anointed, and like our cousin john richard, who went out as a missionary to africa several years ago, she only wanted the lord's will pinted out to her to foller it to the death if necessary. livin' so nigh to the kingdom as she did she couldn't help its breezes fannin' her tired forehead occasionally, and the angels' songs and the sound of the still waters from reachin' her soul. she had left a luxurious home, all her loved ones, a host of friends, and wuz goin' out to face certain hardships, and probable sickness and death amongst a strange half savage people, and yet she had about the happiest face i ever saw. his peace wuz writ down on her brow. her lord journeyed with her and told her from day to day what he wanted her to do. after we got well acquainted she told me that ever since her conversion there were times when she became unconscious to things on earth, but her soul seemed to be ketched up to some other realm, where he, who wuz her constant helper and guide, told her what to do. i told josiah about it, and he sez: "i'd ruther see that than hear on't. how can she be ketched up, weighin' pretty nigh two hundred?" sez i, "your views are material, josiah. i said her soul wuz ketched up." "oh, well, my soul and body has ginerally gone together where i've went." "i don't doubt that," sez i, "not at all. spiritual things are spiritually discerned." "well," sez he, "i've hearn a sight about such things as that, but i'd ruther see 'em myself." well, it wuzn't but a day or two after that that he had a chance to see if he had eyes. sister evangeline wuz settin' with josiah and me on the deck, and all of a sudden while she wuz talkin' to us about her future life and work in africa, her face took on a look as yourn would if your attention had been suddenly arrested by a voice calling you. she looked off over the water as if it wuzn't there, and i felt that someone wuz talkin' to her we couldn't see--her face had jest that look, and at last i hearn her murmur in a low voice: "yes, master, i will go." and most immegiately her soul seemed to come back from somewhere, and she sez to me: "i am told that there is a poor woman amongst the steerage passengers that needs me." and she riz right up and started, like paul, not disobedient to the heavenly vision, not for a minute. she told me afterward that she found a woman with a newly-born child almost dying for want of help. she was alone and friendless, and if sister evangeline hadn't reached her just as she did they would both have died. she wuz a trained nurse, and saved both their lives, and she wuz as good as she could be to 'em till we reached port, where the woman's husband wuz to meet her. josiah acted stunted when i told him, but sez weakly, "i believe she hearn the woman holler." and i sez, "she wuz fainted away, how could she holler?" and he sez, "it must be a heavy faint that will keep a woman from talkin'." the other missionary, elder wessel, i didn't set quite so much store by. his only child lucia wuz on board going out to china with a rich tea merchant's family as a governess for their little daughter, and some one told me that one reason that elder wessel hearn such a loud call to go as a missionary to china was because lucia wuz goin' there. now, there wuz a young chap over in loontown who had tried doctorin' for a year or two and didn't make much by it, and he thought he see a sign up in the heavens, g. p., and he gin out that he had had a call "go preach," and went to preachin', and he didn't make so well by that as he did by his doctorin', and then he gin out that he had made a mistake in readin' the letters; instead of goin' to preach they meant "give pills," so he went back to his doctorin' agin, and is doin' first rate. that wuzn't a call. but to resoom. elder wessel jest worshipped this daughter, and thought she wuz the sweetest, dearest girl in the world. and she wuz a pretty girl with soft, bright innocent eyes. she wuz educated in a convent, and had the sweet, gentle manners and onworldly look that so many convent-bred girls have. she and aronette struck up a warm friendship, though her pa wouldn't have allowed it i spoze if he hadn't seen how much store we all sot by aronette. we got real well acquainted with elder wessel and lucia; and her proud pa wuz never tired of singin' her praises or ruther chantin' 'em--he wuz too dignified to sing. arvilly loved to talk with him, though their idees wuz about as congenial as ile and water. he wuz real mild and conservative, always drinked moderate and always had wine on his table, and approved of the canteen and saloon, which he extolled as the poor man's club. he thought that the government wuz jest right, the big trusts and license laws jest as they should be. arvilly dearly loved to send sharp arrows of sarkasm and argument through his coat armor of dignified complacency and self-esteem, for truly his idees wuz to her like a red rag to a bull. miss meechim kinder looked down on arvilly, and i guess arvilly looked down on her. you know it happens so sometimes--two folks will feel real above each other, though it stands to reason that one of 'em must be mistook. miss meechim thought she wuz more genteel than arvilly, and was worth more, and i guess she had had better advantages. and arvilly thought she knew more than miss meechim, and i guess mebby she did. miss meechim thought she wuz jest right herself, she thought her native land wuz jest right and all its laws and customs, and naterally she looked down dretfully on all foreigners. she and arvilly had lots of little spats about matters and things, though miss meechim wuz so genteel that she kep' her dignity most of the time, though arvilly gin it severe raps anon or oftener. but one tie seemed to unite 'em a little--they wuz real congenial on the subject of man. they both seemed to cherish an inherent aversion to that sect of which my pardner is an ornament, and had a strong settled dislike to matrimony; broken once by arvilly, as a sailor may break his habit of sea-faring life by livin' on shore a spell, but still keepin' up his love for the sea. but of their talks together and arvilly's arguments with elder wessel more anon and bime by. arvilly stood up aginst the sea-sickness as she would aginst a obstinate subscriber, and finally brought the sickness to terms as she would the buyer, on the third day, and appeared pale but triumphant, with a subscription book in her hand and the words of her prospectus dribblin' from her lips. she had ordered a trunkful to sell on sight, but arvilly will never git over what she has went through, never. as the days went on the big ship seemed more and more to us like a world, or ruther a new sort of a planet we wuz inhabitin'--it kinder seemed to be the centre of the universe. i overheard a woman say one day how monotonous the life wuz. but i thought to myself, mebby her mind wuz kinder monotonous--some be, you know, made so in the first on't; i found plenty enough to interest me, and so josiah did. there wuz a big library where you could keep company with the great minds of the past and present. a music room where most always some of the best music wuz to be hearn, for of course there wuz lots of musicians on board, there always is. and for them that wanted it, there wuz a smokin' room, though josiah or i didn't have any use for it, never havin' smoked anything but a little mullen and catnip once or twice for tizik. and there wuz a billiard room for them that patronized bill, though i never did nor josiah, but wuz willin' that folks should act out their own naters. i spoze they played cards there, too. but josiah and i didn't know one card from another; i couldn't tell jack from the king to save my life. we stayed in the music room quite a good deal and once or twice josiah expressed the wish that he had brought along his accordeon. and he sez: "it don't seem right to take all this pleasure and not give back anything in return." but i sez, "i guess they'll git along without hearin' that accordeon." "i might sing sunthin', i spose," sez he. "i could put on my dressin' gown and belt it down with the tossels and appear as a singer, and sing a silo." that wuz the evenin' after dorothy, in a thin, white dress, a little low in the neck and short sleeves, had stood up and sung a lovely piece, or that is i 'spoze it wuz lovely, it wuz in some foreign tongue, but it sounded first rate, as sweet as the song of a robin or medder lark--you know how we all like to hear them, though we can't quite understand robin and lark language. it wuz kinder good in josiah to want to give pleasure in return for what he had had, but i argyed him into thinkin' that he and i would give more pleasure as a congregation than as speakers or singers. for after i had vetoed the singin' that good man proposed that he should speak a piece. sez he, "i could tell most the hull of the american taxation." and i sez, "i wouldn't harrer up the minds of the rich men on board with thoughts of taxes," sez i, "when lots of 'em are goin' away to get rid on 'em." "well," sez he, "i could tell the hull of robert kidd." and i sez, "well, i wouldn't harrer up their feelin's talkin' about hullsale stealin'; they have enough of that to hum in the big cities." so gradual i got him off from the idee. there wuz one little boy about tommy's age and a sister a little older i felt real sorry for, they looked so queer, and their ma, a thin, wirey, nervous lookin' woman brooded over 'em like a settin' hen over her eggs. they wuz dressed well, but dretful bulged out and swollen lookin', and i sez to their ma one day: "are your children dropsical?" and she sez, "oh, no, their health is good. the swellin's you see are life preservers." she said that she kep' one on their stomachs night and day. well, i knew that they would be handy in a shipwreck, but it made 'em look queer, queer as a dog. and now whilst the passengers are all settin' or standin' on their own forts and tendin' to their own bizness, and the big ship ploughin' its big liquid furrow on the water i may as well tell what arvilly went through. i spoze the reader is anxious to know the petickulers of how she come to be in the cuban army and desert from it. the reason of her bein' in the army at all, her husband enlisted durin' the struggle for cuban independence, and arvilly jest worshippin' the ground he walked on, and thinkin' the world wuz a blank to her where he wuz not, after the last care he left her wuz removed, and always havin' done as she wuz a mind to as fur as she could, she dressed herself up in a suit of his clothes and enlisted onbeknown to him, so's to be near to him if he got woonded, and 'tennyrate to breathe the same air he did and sleep under the same stars. she adored him. it must be remembered that arvilly had never loved a single thing till she fell in love with this man, her folks dyin' off and leavin' her to come up the best she could, and imposed upon and looked down upon on every side, and workin' hard for a livin', and after she got old enough to read and understand, bein' smart as a whip and one of the firmest lovers of justice and fair play that ever wuz born, she become such a firm believer in wimmen's rights that she got enemies that way. well, you know right when she started for the world's fair, helpin' herself along by sellin' the book, "the wild, wicked, and warlike deeds of men" (which she said she felt wuz her duty to promulgate to wimmen to keep 'em from marryin' and makin' fools of themselves). well, right there, some like paul on his way to jerusalem breathin' vengeance against his lord, a great light struck him down in the road, so with arvilly, the great light of love stopped her in her career, she dropped her book, married the man she loved and who loved her, and lived happy as a queen till the cuban war broke out. her husband wuz a good man, not the smartest in the world, but a good, honest god-fearin' man, who had had a hard time to get along, but always tried to do jest right, and who hailed arvilly's bright intellect and practical good sense and household knowledge as a welcome relief from incompetence in hired girl form in the kitchen. his first wife died when his little girl wuz born, and she wuz about seven when arvilly married her pa. well, he bein' jest what he wuz--conscientious, god-fearin' and havin' hearn his minister preach powerful sermons on this bein' a war of god aginst the devil, enlightenment and christianity aginst ignorance and barbarism, america aginst spain--he got all fired up with the sense of what wuz his duty to do, and when his mind wuz made up to that no man or woman could turn him. arvilly might have just as well spent her tears and entreaties on her soapstun. no, go he must and go he would. but like the good man he wuz, he made everything just as comfortable as he could for her and his little daughter, a pretty creeter that arvilly too loved dearly. and then he bid 'em a sad adoo, for he loved 'em well, and arvilly had made his home a comfortable and happy one. but he choked back his tears, tried to smile on 'em with his tremblin' lips, held 'em both long in his strong arms, onclosed 'em, and they wuz bereft. well, arvilly held the weeping little girl in her arms, bent over her with white face and dry eyes, for his sake endured the long days and longer nights alone with the child, for his sake taking good care of her, wondering at the blow that had fell upon her, wondering that if in the future she could be so blest agin as to have a home, for love is the soul of the home, and she felt homeless. well, she watched and worked, takin' good care of the little one, but bolts and bars can't keep out death; arvilly's arms, though she wuz strong boneded, couldn't. diphtheria wuz round, little annie took it; in one week arvilly wuz indeed alone, and when the sod lay between her and what little likeness of her husband had shone through the child's pretty face, arvilly formed a strange resolution, but not so strange but what wimmen have formed it before, and probably will agin till god's truth shall shine on a dark world and be listened to, and wars shall be no more. she made up her mind to foller the man she loved, to enlist. she wuz always a masculine lookin' creeter, big, raw boneded, and when she cut off her hair and parted it on one side in a man's way and put on a suit of her husband's clothes she looked as much, or more like a man than she had ever looked like a woman. she locked the doors of her home till the cruel war should be ended, and he whose love made her home should return. till then, if indeed it should ever be, she left her happiness there in the empty, silent rooms and sallied off. she had disposed of her stock and things like that, folks not bein' surprised at it, bein' she wuz alone, but all to once she disappeared, utterly and entirely, nobody hearn of her and folks thought that mebby she had wandered off in her grief and put an end to her life. not one word wuz hearn of her until lo and behold! the strange news come, arvilly's husband wuz killed in a drunken brawl in a licensed canteen down in cuba and arvilly had deserted from the army, and of course bein' a woman they couldn't touch her for it. that wuz the first we ever knowed that she wuz in the army. chapter viii arvilly deserted from the army and gloried in it; she said, bein' a woman born, she had never had a right, and now she took it. after her husband wuz buried, and her hull life, too, she thought for a spell, she deserted, but bein' ketched and court-martialed, she appeared before the officers in her own skirt and bask waist and dared 'em to touch her. waitstill webb, the young sweetheart of the man that shot her husband, wuz with her. good land! arvilly didn't lay up nothin' aginst her or him; he wuz drunk as a fool when he fired the shot. he didn't know what he wuz doin'; he wuz made irresponsible by the law, till he did the deed, and then made responsible by the same law and shot. waitstill wuz named from a puritan great-great-aunt, whose beauty and goodness had fell onto her, poor girl! she stood by arvilly. they wuz made friends on that dretful night when they had stood by the men they loved, one killed and the other to be killed by the govermunt. poor things! they wuz bein' protected, i spoze our govermunt would call it; it always talks a good deal about protectin' wimmen; 'tennyrate the mantilly of the law hung over 'em both and shaded 'em, one man layin' dead, shot through the heart, the other condemned to be shot, both on 'em by legal enactments, both men not knowin' or meanin' any more harm than my josiah up in jonesville if he had been sot fire to by law and then hung by law because he smoked and blistered. good land! them that sets a fire knows that there has got to be smoke and blisters, there must be. the officers they wuz just dumb-foundered at the sight of a woman with a bask waist on in that position--a bein' court-martialed for desertion--and her speech dumb-foundered 'em still more, so i spoze; i hearn it from one who wuz there. sez arvilly to 'em, and they wuz drew up in battle array as you may say, dressed up in uniform and quite a few on 'em, the stars and stripes behind 'em, and the mantilly of the law drapin' 'em in heavy folds. and i don't spoze that through her hull life arvilly wuz ever so eloquent as on that occasion. all her powers of mind and heart wuz electrified by the dretful shock and agony she had underwent, and her words fell like a hard storm of lightenin' and hail out of a sky when it is just stored full of electrical power and has got to bust out. sez arvilly: "you men represent the force and power of the govermunt that falsely sez it is the voice of the people; we two represent the people. as you are the force and power and will of the law, we are the endurance, the suffering. you decide on a war. when did a woman ever have any voice in saying that there should be a war? they bear the sons in agony that you call out to be butchered; their hearts are torn out of their bosoms when they let their husbands, sons and lovers go into the hell of warfare, and you tax all her property to raise money to help furnish the deadly weapons that kill and cut to pieces the warm, living, loving forms that they would give their lives for. "but you men decide on a war, as you have on this. you say it wuz from motives of philanthropy and justice; you drag us, the people, out of peaceful, happy homes to leave all we love, to face mutilation, agony and death; you say your cause wuz just, i say it is a war of revenge--a war of conquest." why it fairly made goose pimples run over me when i hearn on't. sassin' the govermunt, she wuz--nothin' more nor less. but she went on worse than ever. "you say that it wuz to give freedom to the people of cuba. look at the millions of your own wimmen enslaved in legal fetters! you say it wuz to protect the wimmen and children of cuba from the cruelty and brutality of unscrupulous rulers. look at the wimmen and children of your own country cowering and hiding from crazed drunken husbands, sons and fathers. more misery, murder, suicides, abuse and suffering of every kind is caused by the saloon every day of the year in the united states than ever took place in cuba in twice the same time, and you not only stand by and see it, but you take pay from the butchers for slaughtering the innocents! you miserable hypocrites, you!" sez arvilly, "i would talk about pity and mercy, you that know no pity and no mercy for your own wimmen and children. "you pose before foreign nations as a reformer, a righter of wrongs, when you have cherished and are cherishing now the most gigantic crime and wrong that ever cursed a people; turning a deaf ear to the burdened and dying about you; wives, mothers, daughters--for whose safety and well-being you are responsible--have told you that the saloon killed all the manhood and nobility of their husbands, sons, and fathers; made the pure, good men, who loved and protected them, into cold-hearted brutes and demons who would turn and rend them--still you would not hear. you have seen the dretful procession of one hundred thousand funerals pass before you every year, slain by this foe that you pamper and protect. "lovers of good laws have told you that the saloon blocked up the way to every reform and wuz the greatest curse of the day; still you threw your mighty protection around the system and helped it on. the most eminent doctors have told you that drunkenness ruined the bodies of men; christian clergymen told you that it ruined their souls, and that the saloon was the greatest enemy the church of christ had to contend with to-day; that when by its efforts and sacrifices it saved one soul from ruin, the saloon ruined two to fill the place of that one who wuz saved, and still you opholded it. "petitions signed by hundreds of thousands of the best people of the land have been sent to you, but these petitions, weighted down with the tears and prayers of these people, have been made a jest and a mock of by you. and strangest, most awful of sights--incredible almost to men and angels--this govermunt, that sot out as a reformer to christianize cuba and the philippines, have planted there this heaviest artillery of satan, the saloon, to bind the poor islanders in worse bondage and misery than they ever dremp on. hain't you ashamed of yourself! you fool and villain!" (oh! dear me! oh, dear suz! to think on't; arvilly wuz talkin' to the govermunt, and callin' it a fool and villain! the idee! why, it wuz enough to skair anybody most to death!) i spoze it made a great adoo. i spoze that the men who represented the govermunt wuz too horrified to make a reply. arvilly always did go too fur when she got to goin'. but it can't be denied that she had great reason for her feelin's, for the strongest argument wuz still to come. i spoze she got almost carried away by her own talk and feelin's, for all of a sudden they said she lifted her long bony hand and arm--arvilly always wuz kinder spare in flesh--she lifted up her arm and her bony forefinger seemed to be follerin' the lines of some words writ up there on the wall, sez she slowly, in a awful voice: "my country! thou are weighed in the balance and found wanting!" it wuz indeed thrillin', but after a minute's silence she went on: "look at me!" sez she, pintin' that same forefinger first at herself and then at the tall veiled figger of the young girl beside her--"look at us; we, the people, represent to you another of your favorite reforms, the canteen, that product of civilization and christianity you transplanted from our holy shores to the benighted tropics. how many petitions have you had wet with the tears of wives and mothers, weighted down with their prayers to close this gateway to hell. but no, for a price, as judas sold his lord, you have trafficked in human souls and will do so. and you are the power--you control; we are the people--we suffer. we leave all we love, we go out and fight your battles when you tell us to, we face mutilation and death for you--isn't that enough? no; besides the foe in front you set us aginst, you introduce a foe into our midst that is a million times as fatal and remorseless. the foe in front only aims at our bodies; this foe, before it kills our bodies, kills honor, manhood, all that is noble and worthy to be loved--a devilish foe indeed, but by your command it is let loose upon us; we are the people, we must endure it. look at me!"--agin she pinted that bony forefinger at herself--"i had a husband i loved as well as the gracious lady in the white house loves her husband. he wuz a good man. he thought he owed a duty to his country. he went to fight her battles at her call. he might have escaped spanish bullets, but not this foe this christian govermunt set aginst him. in a low canteen, a vile drinking den, rented by you for the overthrow of men's souls and bodies, in a drunken brawl a bullet aimed by a crazed brain for another poor ruined boy reached my husband's faithful heart, faithful to the country that slew him, not for patriotism or honor, but for a few pennies of money--not even the thirty pieces of silver judas earnt for betraying his lord. this bullet wuz sent from the hand of a young man, a college graduate, one of the noblest, brightest and best of men until this foe our govermunt set for him vanquished him. he got into a quarrel with another drunken youth, another victim of the canteen, and meant to shoot him, but the unsteady hand sent it into the heart of my husband, who went into that vile place thinkin' he could appease the quarrel. this young man was shot for _your_ crime and here is his widow," and turning to waitstill, she said, "lift up your vail; let them look upon us, the people." the young girl drew back her vail and a face of almost perfect beauty wuz disclosed, but white as death. the big dark eyes wuz full of sorrow and despair, sadder than tears. she simply said: "i loved him--he was murdered--i have come to denounce his murderers." her voice wuz low, but the words fell like drops of blood, so vivid, so full were they of the soul of her being. "yes," sez arvilly, "and you are his murderer. not the spaniards, not the foe of this govermunt that the poor young fellow tried with a boy's warm-hearted patriotism to save. you murdered him." she turned to let her companion speak agin, but the power to speak had gone from her; her slender figure swayed and arvilly caught her in her strong arms. she had fainted almost away; she could say no more. but what more could she say to this govermunt. "he was murdered--i loved him--i have come to denounce his murderers." arvilly helped waitstill down on a bench where she leaned back still and white most as if she wuz dead. but before arvilly went out with waitstill leanin' on her arm, she turned and faced them dumb-foundered men once more: "who is accountable for the death of her lover?" pintin' to the frail, droopin' figger. "who is accountable for the death of my husband? who is accountable for the death and everlastin' ruin of my son, my husband, my father and my lover? sez the millions of weepin' wimmen in america that the canteen and saloon have killed and ruined. these questions unanswered by you are echoin' through the hull country demandin' an answer. they sweep up aginst the hull framework of human laws made professedly to protect the people, aginst every voter in the land, aginst the rulers in washington, d. c., aginst the church of christ--failing to git an answer from them they sweep up to god's throne. there they will git a reply. woe! woe! to you rulers who deviseth iniquity to overthrow the people committed to your care." arvilly then went out, leadin' waitstill, and when she come back to jonesville she come with her, a patient mourner, good to everybody and goin' out to day's works for seventy-five cents a day, for she had no other way to live, for she wuzn't strong enough then to go on with her nursing and she hadn't a relation on earth, and the man our govermunt murdered in that canteen represented all there wuz on this broad earth for her to love. they worshipped each other, and waitstill is waitin' till the time comes for her to die and meet the man she loved and lost, havin' to live in the meantime, because she couldn't stop breathin' till her time come. so, as i say, she went out doin' plain sewin', beloved by all both great and small, but a mourner if there ever wuz one, lookin' at his picture day in and day out, which she wears in her bosom in a locket--a handsome, manly face, took before our govermunt made a crazy lunatick and a murderer of him. jest as different from arvilly as day is from night, but the cold hands of grief holds their hearts together and i spoze that she will always make it her home with arvilly as long as she lives, she wants her to--that is, if the plan i have in my head and heart don't amount to anything, but i hope for the land sake that it will, for as i've said many a time and gin hints to her, there never wuz two folks more made for each other than she and elder white. but she's gone now to the philippines as a nurse in a hospital, which shows how different she and arvilly feels; arvilly sez that she wouldn't do anything to help the govermunt agin in any way, shape or manner, not if they should chain her and drag her to the front; she would die before she would help the great, remorseless power that killed her husband for a little money. she's made in jest that way, arvilly is, jest as faithful to the remembrance of her wrongs as a dog is to a bone, settin' and gnawin' at it all the time. and when they come to collect her taxes last year she says: "no taxes will you ever git out of me to help rare up saloons and canteens to kill some other woman's husband." "but," sez the tax man, a real good man he wuz and mild mannered, "you should be willing to help maintain the laws of your country that protects you." and then i spose that man's hair (it wuz pretty thin, anyway) riz right up on his head to hear her go on tellin' about the govermunt killin' her husband. but seein' she wuz skarin' him she kinder quelled herself down and sez: "what has this country ever done for me. i have had no more voice in makin' the laws than your dog there. your dog is as well agin off, for it don't have to obey the laws, that it has no part in makin'. if it digs up a good bone it don't have to give it to some dog politician to raise money to buy dog buttons to kill other dogs and mebby its own pups. not one cent of taxes duz this hell-ridden govermunt git out of me agin--if i can help it." the man ketched up his tax list and flewed from the house, but returned with minions of the law who seized on and sold her shote she wuz fattin' for winter's use; sold it to the saloon keeper over to zoar for about half what it wuz worth, only jest enough to pay her tax. but then the saloon keeper controlled a lot of bum votes and the collector wanted to keep in with him. yes, as i wuz sayin', waitstill webb is as different from arvilly as a soft moonlight night lit by stars is from a snappin' frosty noonday in january. droopin' like a droopin' dove, feelin' that the govermunt wuz the worst enemy she and her poor dead boy ever had, as it turned out, but still ready to say: "oh lord, forgive my enemy, the government of the united states, for it knows what it does." which she felt wuz ten-fold worse than as if it did wickedly without knowin' it, and she knew that they knowed all about it and couldn't deny it, for besides all the good men and wimmen that had preached to 'em about it, they had had such sights of petitions sent in explainin' it all out and beggin' 'em to stop it, onheeded by them and scorfed at. but she stood ready to go agin and serve the govermunt as a nurse, trying to heal the woonds caused by bullet and knife, and the ten-fold worse woonds caused by our govermunt's pet wild beast it rents out there to worry and kill its brave defenders. i looked forward with warm anticipations to seein' her, for i sot store by her. she had fixed over my gray alpacky as good as new, and made me a couple of ginghams, and i thought more of havin' her with me than i did of her work, and once when i wuz down with a crick in the back, and couldn't stir, she come right there and stayed by me and did for me till the creek dwindled down and disappeared. her presence is some like the bam of gilead, and her sweet face and gentle ways make her like an angel in the sick room. arvilly is more like a mustard plaster than bam. but everybody knows that mustard is splendid for drawin' attention to it; if it draws as it ort to, mustard must and will attract and hold attention. and i spoze there hain't no tellin' what good arvilly has done and mebby will do by her pungent and sharp tongue to draw attention to wrongs and inspire efforts to ameliorate 'em. and the same lord made the bam of gilead and mustard, and they go well together. when mustard has done its more painful work then the bam comes in and duz its work of healin' and consolin'. 'tennyrate anybody can see that they are both on 'em as earnest and sincere in wantin' to do right as any human creeters can be, and are dretful well thought on all over jonesville and as fur out as loontown and zoar. some wimmen would have held a grudge aginst the man that murdered her husband and not bore the sight of the one who loved and mourned him so constant. but arvilly had too much good horse sense for that; she contends that neither of the men who wuz fightin' wuz much to blame. she sez that if a sane, well man should go out and dig a deep pit to catch men for so much a head, and cover it all over with green grass and blossoms and put a band of music behind it to tempt men to walk out on it, to say nothin' of a slidin' path leadin' down to it, all soft with velvet and rosy with temptations, if a lot of hot-headed youth and weak men and generous open-minded men who wuzn't lookin' for anything wrong, should fall into it and be drownded for so much a head, she sez the man who dug the pit and got so much apiece for the men he led in and ruined would be more to blame than the victims, and she sez the man who owned the ground and encouraged it to go on would be more to blame than the man who dug the pit. and further back the men who made the laws to allow such doin's, and men who voted to allow it, and ministers and the church of christ, who stood by like pilate, consenting to it and encouraged by their indifference and neglect what they might have stopped if they wanted to--they wuz most to blame of all. well, this is what arvilly has went through. day by day we sailed onwards, and if the days wuz beautiful, the nights wuz heavenly, lit by the glowin' moon that seemed almost like another sun, only softer and mellerer lookin'; and the lustrous stars of the tropics seemed to flash and glitter jest over our head almost as if we could reach up and gather 'em in our hands into a sheaf of light. the weather seemed to moderate and we had to put on our thinnest garments in the middle of the day. but my poor josiah could not make much change; he had to wear his pepper-and-salt costoom in publick, which wuz pretty thick, but i fixed sunthin' for him to wear in our state-room, where we passed considerable time. i took one of my outing jackets that was cut kinder bask fashion, trimmed with lace and bows of ribbon and pinned it over in the back, and it fitted him quite well and wuz cool. he liked it; he thought it become him, it wuz so dressy, but i wouldn't let him appear in publick in it. i dressed tommy in his summer suit, and wore my figgered lawn and wuz none too cool. we only had one heavy storm, but that wuz fearful; everything dashed round and wuz broke that could be. i put tommy in his little crib and fastened him in, and fastened my most precious treasure, josiah, to the berth. i then tied myself up, and we bore it as well as we could, though every time the ship went down into the trough of the sea i felt that it wuz dubersome about its ever comin' out agin, and every time it mounted up on one of them stupendous billers, higher than the jonesville meetin' house, i felt doubtful whether or no it would fall bottom side up or not. tommy wuz cryin', and josiah wuz kinder whimperin', though for my sake he wuz tryin' to bear up. but i'll hang a curtain up before that seen and not take it down agin till we wuz all ontied and the sun wuz shinin' down on smoother waters. at last after seven days' stiddy sailin' a little spec wuz seen in the distance one mornin' gradually growin' in size, and other little specks wuz sighted, also growin' gradual, and at last they turned to solid land rising up out of the blue water, clad in strange and beautiful verdure behind the white foamin' billers of surf. and instinctively as we looked on't i broke out singin' onbeknown to me, and josiah jined in in deep base: "sweet fields beyend the swellin' flood stand dressed in livin' green." we sung it to balermy. josiah hain't much of a singer, and my voice hain't what it once wuz, but i d'no as in any conference meetin' that him ever sounded sweeter to me, or i sung it with more of the sperit. chapter ix how beautiful wuz the shore as we approached it, its scenery different from jonesville scenery, but yet worth seein'--yes, indeed! mountain and valley, rock and green velvet verdure, tall palm trees shadin' kinder low houses, but still beautiful and attractive. and what beautiful colors greeted our weary eyes as we drew nigher. i thought of that gate of jerusalem the golden, all enamelled with emerald, amethyst, chalcedony, and pearl sot in gold. the golden brown earth made from melted lava, the feathery foliage of the palms that riz up beyend the dazzlin' white beach, the crystal blue waters with myriad-hued fishes playing down in its crystal depths. oh, how fair the seen as we approached nearer and see plainer and plainer the pictured beauty of the shore. shinin' green valley, emerald-topped mountain, amethyst sea; which wuz the most beautiful it wuz hard to say. evangeline noble stood off by herself leanin' on the rail of the deck as if she see through the beauty into the inner heart of things, and see in her mind's eye all the work her own people, the missionaries, had done there. the thought that they had taken the natives like diamonds incrusted in dirt and cleansed them of the blackest of their habits. she see in the past natives burying their children alive, putting to death the mentally weak, worshipping horrible idols, killing and eating their enemies, etc., etc. but now, under the blessed light of the torch, that long procession of martyrs had held up, the former things wuz passin' away, and she, too, wuz one of that blessed host of god's helpers. she looked riz up and radiant as if she see way beyend the islands of the sea and all she hoped to do for her master on earth, and as if he wuz talking to her now, teaching her his will. nigher to us elder wessel wuz standing, and he sez, lifting up his eyes to heaven: "oh islands of the sea! where every prospect pleases and only man is vile." and arvilly hearn him and snapped out, "i d'no as they're so very vile till traders and other civilized folks teach 'em to drink and cheat and tear round." his eyes lost in a minute that heavenly expression they had wore and sez he: "oh, islands of the sea! where every prospect pleases and eat each other up and etcetery." "well, i d'no," sez she, "but i'd ruther be killed to once by a club and eat up and be done with than to die by inches as wimmen do under our civilized american license laws. the savages kill their enemies, but the american savage kills the one that loves him best, and has to see her children turned into brutes and ruffians, under what is called a christian dispensation. there hain't no hypocrisy and phariseeism in a good straight club death, and most likely whilst he wuz eatin' me up he wouldn't pose before foreign nations as a reformer and civilizer of the world." "oh, sister arvilly," sez he, "think of the hideous idols they worship! you can't approve of that," sez he. but arvilly, the ondanted, went on, "well i never see or hearn of any savage idol to compare in hegiousness with the whiskey power that is built up and pampered and worshipped by americans rich and poor, high and low, church and state. let any one make a move to tear that idol down from its altar, made of dead men's bones, and see what a flutter there is in the camp, how new laws are made and old laws shoved aside, and new laws fixed over, and the highest and the lowest will lie and cringe and drag themselves on their knees in front of it to protect it and worship it. don't talk to me about your wood idols; they hain't nothin' to be compared to it. they stay where they're put, they don't rare round and kill their worshippers as this whiskey idol duz. i'd think enough sight more of some men high in authority if they would buy a good clean basswood idol and put it up in the capitol at washington, d. c., and kneel down before it three times a day, than to do what they are doin'; they wouldn't do half the hurt and god knows it, and he would advise 'em that way if they ever got nigh enough to him so's he could speak to 'em at all." "oh, sister arvilly!" sez elder wessel, and he looked as if he would faint away. and i too wuz shocked to my soul, specially as josiah whispered kinder low to me: "samantha, we might git a small idol whilst we're here. you know it would come handy in hayin' time and when the roads are drifted full." i looked at him in a way that he will remember through his hull life, and sez he quick, "i shan't do nothin' of the kind unless you're willin'." "willin'!" sez i, in heart-broken axents. "what will happen next to me?" and then indignation dried my tears before they fell and i sez, "i command you, josiah allen, to never speak to me on this subject agin; or think on't!" sez i fiercely. he muttered sunthin' about thinkin' what he wuz a mindter. and i turned to arvilly and sez, to git her mind off: "see that native, arvilly, standin' up on that board!" for as our good ship bore us onward we see crowds of natives standin' up on little tottlin' boards, dartin' through the water every which way, risin' and fallin' on the waves. i couldn't done it to save my life. no, josiah nor me couldn't stood on boards like that on our creek, to say nothin' of the pacific ocean. but we should never have appeared in public dressed in that way--it wuzn't decent, and i told josiah i wouldn't look at 'em if i wuz in his place; i mistrusted that some on 'em might be wimmen. and then i thought of the garden of eden, when adam and eve first took the place, and i didn't really know what to think. but i drawed arvilly's attention to one on 'em that seemed extra dextrious in managin' his board and sez, "how under the sun duz he do it, arvilly?" "i d'no," sez she, and she added dreamily, "i wonder if he would want a copy of the 'twin crimes,' or the 'wicked and warlike.' if i do sell any here to the natives it'll put some new idees in their heads about idol worship wickeder and warliker than they ever had." miss meechim and dorothy wuz approachin' and robert strong i see looked off with rapt eyes onto the glorious seen. and as no two can see the same things in any picture, but see the idees of their own mind, blended in and shadin' the view, i spozed that robert strong see rared up on the foreground of that enchantin' seen his ideal city of justice, where gigantic trusts, crushin' the people's life out, never sot its feet, but love, equality and good common sense sot on their thrones in the middle on't, and the people they ruled wuz prosperous and happy. and anon he looked down into dorothy's sweet face as if no foreign shore or any inner vision ever looked so good to him. miss meechim hated to have dorothy see them natives, i see she did; actin' so skittish towards the male sect always, it wuz dretful galdin' to her to see 'em in that state and specially to have dorothy see 'em. she looked awful apprehensive towards them swimmers and board riders and then at her niece. but when she catched sight of robert by her side a look of warm relief swep' over her anxious face, as if in her mind's eye she see dorothy by his help walkin' through the future a prosperous and contented bacheldor maid. tommy wuz kinder talkin' to himself or to his invisible playmate. he wonnered how he wuz goin' to git on shore, wonnerin' if he could stand up on one of them little boards and if his grandpa and grandma would each have one to stand up on, and kinder lookin' forward to such an experience i could see, and josiah wuz wonderin' how soon he could git a good meat dinner. and so as on shore or sea each one wuz seein' what their soul's eye had to see, and shakin' ever and anon their own particular skeletons, and shettin' 'em up agin' in their breast closets. well, as we approached nigher and nigher the wharf we see men dressed in every way you could think on from petticoats to pantaloons, and men of every color from black down through brown and yeller to white, and wimmen the same. well, it wuzn't long before we wuz ensconced in the comfortable tarven where we put up. elder wessel and his daughter and evangeline noble went to the same tarven, which made me glad, for i like 'em both as stars differin'. elder wessel i regarded more as one of the little stars in the milky way, but evangeline as one of the big radiant orbs that flashed over our heads in them tropic nights. the tarven we went to wuz called the hawaiian hotel. we got good comfortable rooms, arvilly's bein' nigh to ourn and dorothy's and miss meechim's acrost the hall and the rest of the company comfortably located not fur away. well, the next mornin' josiah and i with tommy walked through some of the broad beautiful streets, lined with houses built with broad verandas most covered with vines and flowers and shaded by the most beautiful trees you ever see, tall palms with their stems round and smooth as my rollin' pin piercin' the blue sky, and fur, fur up the long graceful leaves, thirty feet long some on 'em. and eucalyptus and begoniea and algebora with its lovely foliage, and pepper trees and bananas and pomegranates and tamarind and bread fruit and rose apples, tastin' and smellin' a good deal like a rosy. and magnificent oleanders and fuchias and geraniums and every other beautiful tree and blossom you ever hearn on. and take it with these rich colored posies and luxuriant green foliage and the white suits and hats of the men, and the gay colored clothing of the women we met, lots of them with wreaths of flowers round their necks hangin' most to their feet, take it all together it wuz a seen long, long to be remembered. and then we walked up on punch bowl hill, five hundred feet above the level of the sea, and looked off on a broad beautiful picture of sea, mountain and valley soft and beautiful and a-bloom with verdure, and anon bold, rugged and sublime, and i sez to josiah: "this very place where we're standin' now wuz once a volcano and belched forth flames, and that also," sez i, pintin' to tantalus that riz up two thousand feet. "and," sez i, "they say that the view from that is glorious." "well," sez he, "i guess we hadn't better climb up there; it might bust out agin. and i wouldn't have you sot fire to, samantha, for a thousand worlds like this," (he didn't want the work of climbin', that wuz it). and i didn't argy with him, for i thought it would be quite a pull for us to git up there and git tommy up, and i didn't know as the child ort to climb so fur, so i didn't oppose my pardner when he propsed to go back to the tarven, and we santered back through the streets filled with citizens of all countries and dressed accordin', to the grounds around the tarven. we put tommy into a hammock and sot down peaceful nigh by him. the sun shone down gloriously out of a clear blue sky, but we sot in the shade and so enjoyed it, the bammy air about us seemed palpitating with langrous beauty and fragrance, and i sez to my pardner: "don't this remind you, josiah, of what we've heard thomas j. read about: "'the island valley of avileon where falls not rain nor hail nor any snow.'" "where it seems always afternoon." "i d'no," sez josiah, "as i ever hearn of such a land. i never wuz any hand to lay abed all the forenoon." "but, josiah, there is sunthin' so dreamy and soothin', so restful in the soft slumbrous atmosphere, it seems as if one could jest lay down in that hammock, look off onto the entrancin' beauty around, breathin' the soft balmy air, and jest lay there forever." "i guess," sez he, "that the dinner bell would be apt to roust you out the second or third day." but miss meechim jined us at jest this minute, and she sez to me, "i feel just as you do, i feel as though i would fain dwell here forever." and josiah sez: "i believe it would be a good thing for you, miss meechim, to stay here right along; you could probable do considerable good here preachin' to the natives aginst marriage, they're pretty apt to marry too much if they're let alone, and you might curb 'em in some." (josiah can't bear miss meechim, her idees on matrimony are repugnant to him.) but she didn't argy with him. she sez: "robert is planning a trip to the pali, and wants to know if you won't join us." and josiah says, "who is pali?" and she sez, "it is the precipice five hundred feet high, where king kamehameha drove off his enemies." well, we wuz agreeable and jined the party. robert had got a wagonette and he and dorothy, miss meechim and arvilly and josiah and i jest filled the seats, tommy sot in josiah's lap or between us. it is quite a long ride to the pali, but we didn' realize it, because the scenery all along is so lovely and so novel. that view from the top i hain't a-goin' to try to describe, nor i sha'n't let josiah try; i don't like to have that man flat out in his undertakin's. good land! do you want us to tell how many sands there wuz on the flashing white beach that stretched out milds and milds? and we might as well as to describe that enchantin' panorama and take up all the different threads of glory that lay before us and embroider 'em on language. no, you must see 'em for yourself, and then you hain't goin' to describe 'em. i d'no but carabi could. i hearn tommy talkin' and "wonnerin'" to him as he stood awestruck beside me, but no mortal can. well, i thought i must not slight the volcano kilauea, which means the house of everlasting fire. and how that volcano and everything in hawaii reminded me of the queen who once rained here--and the interview i once had with her. we happened to be visitors to the same summer resort. you know she lives in washington, d. c., now. i sent word that i wuz there and craved a augence, which wuz gladly granted. she had hearn of me and i had hearn of her, which made everything agreeable. so at the appinted hour i wuz ushered by one of her hired men into her presence. i liked her looks first rate; of course she hain't what you may call handsome, and her complection is pretty middlin' dark, but she has a good look and a good way with her. she came forward and greeted me with great cordiality and gin the hand i extended a warm grasp, and i hern visey versey, and sez she: "i am glad to see you, josiah allen's wife." and i sez, speakin' the name liliukolani well as i could, "i also am glad to hail the queen of the sandwich islands." that tickled her, and she sez: "i was not deceived in you; you are one who can recognize royalty if the cloud of adversity and trouble is wreathin' it in its black folds." and i sez, "clouds often covers the sun and moon, but the light is there jest the same." i felt to pity her as she went on and related her troubles to me. her throne kicked out from under her by them that wanted to set down on it, the high chairs of her loyal friends took by her enemies who craved the soft cushions. even her private property grabbed away from her. why, how should any of us feel to have a neighbor walk in when we wuz havin' a family quarrel and jest clean us out of everything--kitchen stove, bureau, bed and beddin' and everything; why, it would rile us to our depths, any on us. she sez, "i feel that my kingdom wuz stole away from me." and i sez: "i know jest how you feel. there wuz a woodsy island down in our creek that josiah had called hisen for years and years, rained peaceful and prosperous over so we spozed, it made a dretful handy place for our young stock to stand in the shade in the summer, and our ducks and geese jest made their hum there, but what should bill yerden do when he bought the old shelmadine place but jest scoop up that island and try to prove that it wuz hisen. it wuz jest stealin', josiah and i always felt so. but he wuz down with tizik at the time, and i wore out nussin' him, and bill put bob iron fence round it, real sharp bobs, too, and we had to gin in. of course it wuzn't a big spot, but we despised the idee of havin' it took from us just as much as though it wuz the hull contient of asia, and we can't git over it, josiah nor me can't. and i know jest how you feel, and i sympathize with you." and she sez, "sympathy is sweet, but justice is sweeter." and i sez, "that is so, but when you can't git justice, sympathy is better than nothin'." "yes," sez she, "i know it, but i am lookin' forward to the day when i shall git my rights agin. i am jest as much a queen as queen alexandra is to-day, and my kingdom is just as much mine." sez i, "that is just the way josiah and i feel; we can't help lookin' forward to gittin' our rights, but don't spoze we ever shall, for life is short, and josiah don't want any more of our live stock tore up on them bobs; and, as i've said to josiah many a time, bill yerden feels guilty, or he wouldn't rare up such sharp defences round it." well, we had a good deal more of jest such profitable and interestin' talk as two such great wimmen would naterally, and we parted away from each other with a cordial hand shake and mutual good feelin'. but she called me back and sez she: "i want to give you one word of solemn warnin' before we part," and i stopped stun still and listened. "i don't know," sez she, "as you'll ever be a queen." "well, mebby not," sez i, "but i am thought a sight on in jonesville, and there is no knowin' what may happen." "well," sez she, "if you ever are a queen, a ruler of a kingdom, don't let any other nation protect you. protectin'," sez she, "has been the ruin of more than one individual and nation." and i promised her that i would look out for it if i ever wuz a queen, but reminded her that there wuz times too when it came handy, and saved our necks to be protected, and then i finished, gracefully backin' out of her presence. i like her first rate, and believe she is a likely woman; i believe she has been lied about, she jest the same as told me she had; if she wuz a woman that took in washin's for a livin' there wouldn't have been so much said about her. why, it is jest as easy for envious folks to run them high in position and try to demean 'em as it is to fall off a log. chapter x some of the party felt that they couldn't leave the islands without seein' the great kilauea and some didn't care to go. i felt that i must see it and so did arvilly, and josiah looked on me as fondly and proudly as if i myself wuz a volcano and said, "if samantha goes i shall." robert strong wanted to go and so did dorothy; miss meechim didn't feel like going and offered to take care of tommy with the help of aronette. elder wessel wouldn't go, for lucia wuzn't very well and he felt that she had better stay and rest at the tarven, and i spozed that aronette and lucia would have a pretty good time, for they always seemed to when they wuz together. evangeline noble was visiting some friends of hers on the island. there wuz a smart young english clergyman goin' with us and a scotchman, both good lookin' and good actin'. the scotchman wuz sir duncan ramsey and didn't act any more sot up than if he wuz a plain mister. he paid considerable attention to dorothy, too, but miss meechim said that she didn't worry about dorothy at all since i would chaperone her, and robert wuz going to protect her from any possible lover. sez miss meechim: "robert knows that i would almost rather have that volcano burst forth its burning lava and wash her away on its bosom than to have her engulfed in that terrible state of matrimony from which i and mine have suffered so horribly." "well," sez i, "i can't speak for you and yourn, but for me and ourn," sez i, "no state under the heavens would be agreeable for me to live in if my beloved pardner wuzn't in it too." "oh, well," sez she, "exceptions prove the rule; your husband is congenial and good to you." "oh, well," sez i, "as to the daily acts and queer moves of pardners the least said the soonest mended, but love is the great ruler; where he rules any state is blest, be it torrid or frigid." that evenin' arvilly and elder wessel had a argument about votin' and other things. i knew i ort to be in my room packin' my satchel bag, for we expected to be gone a week or ten days, but i did kinder want to hear how their talk come out. he said he didn't vote; he said he thought it wuz a clergyman's duty to set and judge of the right and wrong of actions, not take part in 'em. and arvilly says, "i always spozed the almighty did that; i didn't know as human men wuz obleeged to. i know he cursed them that dealt in strong drink, and blest them that gin even a cup of cold water to the little ones, which i spoze meant help to the poorest and lowest. and i guess that whatever your idees are about it, when you come to the judgment day you won't set up there on the throne judgin', but you'll be down with the rest on us givin' an account of how you've used your talents, your influence, and if you've wropped your mantilly of protection around thieves and murderers that you know the whiskey trade is made of; you'll find that it will drop off there, and you will be judged accordin' to your works. but mebby you'll be made to see before you git there that you're in the wrong on't upholdin' this evil." arvilly's axent wuz as sharp as any simeter, and it seemed to go right through elder wessel's robe of complacency and self-esteem and rend it. he looked dretful bad, and i spoke up, meanin' to pour a little ile on his woonds, and sayin' what i thought, too. sez i: "folks hain't so guilty often as they are thoughtless; ministers and church people who don't use their influence aginst this evil don't realize what they're doin'--they don't think." "they're guilty if they don't think," sez arvilly, "if they are blest with common sense. if i wuz walkin' by a deep pond in broad daylight, and see a dozen little children sinking that i might save by a little effort, i wonder how many would believe me when i said that i see 'em drowndin' but didn't try to save 'em because i didn't think. if i had ears and eyes and common sense, and could save 'em and didn't, i wuz guilty of murder, and so the lord would look at it and everybody else that knew anything." and she looked at me some as if i didn't know anything, jest because i intimated that ministers and church members didn't want to do such wickedness, but didn't think--arvilly is hash. but i had to admit that she had some common sense on her side. sez she agin: "the church of christ could do anything it wanted to if it jined its forces, took holt as if it meant to do sunthin', but as it is indifference folds its hands, self interest murders humanity, greed upholds intemperance, and all about us in church and state are drink makers and drink takers, and heaven knows which of 'em will git to hell first!" arvilly is dretful hash; when she gits rousted up her indignation is like lightnin', and she don't care where it strikes or who. it struck elder wessel hard. "i should be afraid!" sez he, and his voice fairly trembled with indignation, "i should be afraid to talk of the church of christ as you do!" "let it behave itself then!" sez arvilly, "be converted and come out on the lord's side to the help of the weak aginst the mighty!" "the saloon," sez elder wessel dogmatically, "is the poor man's club." he wuz all rousted up by her hash talk and come out plainer than he had come. "the rich man has his club, and the saloon is the poor man's club. he has a right to go there for a little recreation." "re-creation!" sez arvilly. "if you think drinkin' pizen whiskey is re-creatin' a man, you're different from me." "and me, too," sez i. "if you call it re-creatin' to go to the poor man's club sober and sane," sez arvilly, "and stagger home at midnight crazy drunk, i say he hain't no right to re-create himself that way; he re-creates himself from a good man and worthy member of society into a fiend, a burden and terror to his family and community. now elder white's idee of re-creatin' men is different; he believes in takin' bad men and re-creatin' 'em into good ones, and i wish that every minister on earth would go and do likewise." "i know nothin' about elder white," sez elder wessel hautily. "he's our minister in loontown," sez arvilly. "he has his church open every night in the week for re-creatin' in the right way." "i don't approve of that," sez elder wessel. "the church of the most high is too sacred to use for such purposes." "a minister said that once to elder white," sez arvilly, "and he answered 'em with that warm meller smile of hisen, 'where are my boys and girls more welcome and safe than at home, and this is their father's house,'" sez he. "using that holy place for recreation is very wrong," sez elder wessel. sez arvilly, "i told you that he used it to re-create anew to goodness and strength. he has music, good books, innocent games of all kinds, bright light, warmth, cheerful society, good lectures, and an atmosphere of good helpful influences surroundin' 'em, and he has sandwiches and coffee served in what wuz the pastor's study, and which he uses now, heaven knows, to study the big problem how a minister of the most high can do the most good to his people." "coffee," sez elder wessel, "is all right in its place, but the common workman hankers after something stronger; he wants his beer or toddy, the glass that makes him forget his trouble for a time, and lifts him into another world." "well, i spoze the opium eater and cocaine fiend hanker after the fool paradise these drugs take 'em into, but that's no sign that they ort to destroy themselves with 'em." "coffee, too, is deleterious," sez elder wessel. "some say that it is worse than whiskey." i spoke up then; i am a good coffee maker, everybody admits, and i couldn't bear to hear ernest white talked aginst, and i sez: "i never hearn of a workman drinkin' so much coffee that he wuz a danger to his family and the community, or so carried away with it that he spent his hull wages on it. such talk is foolish and only meant to blind the eyes of justice and common sense. elder white's mutual help club, as he calls it, for he makes these folks think they help him, and mebby they do, is doin' sights of good, sights of it. young folks who wuz well started towards the drunkard's path have been turned right round by it, and they save their wages and look like different men since they have left the poor man's club, as you call it, and patronize hisen." "and elder white has showed," sez arvilly, "by his example just what the church of christ could do if it wanted to, to save men from the evil of this present time and git 'em headed towards the celestial city." "oh!" sez elder wessel, "i would no more use the church dedicated to the most high in the way you speak of than i would use the communion cup to pass water in." "if a man wuz dyin' of thirst, and that cup could be used to save him, don't you spoze the lord would want it used for that, elder wessel?" sez arvilly. "oh, no! oh, no!" sez he: "give not that which is holy unto dogs; cast not your pearls before swine." "that is jest what i have been preachin' to you," sez arvilly. "give not that which is holy, the best nater, and goodness of boys and men to the dogs, the brutes that lay in wait for 'em in whiskey laws. the god in man is murdered every 'lection day by professors of religion and ministers." "why--whyee," sez elder wessel, sinkin' back in his chair. "yes," sez the dantless arvilly, "i mean jest what i say; them that refuse to vote and help in the matter are jest as guilty as license voters; they are consentin' to the crucifixion of christ in man. and the poor drunkards are not the only ones they help nail to the cross. the innocent life and happiness of wimmen and children these wicked laws lift up on the cross of agony, and their hearts' blood cries to heaven for judgment on them that might have helped 'em and would not. the church of christ is responsible for this crime," sez arvilly, "for there is not an evil on earth that could stand before the combined strength of a united church." sez elder wessel, gittin' back considerable dignity (her hash talk madded him awfully), sez he, "i simply see things in another light from what you do." "he that is not for me is against me," sez arvilly. sez the elder in a dogmatic axent, real doggy it wuz, "i say again, the saloon is the poor man's club." and i sez dreamily, "talkin' of a club as a club, a club in the hands of a drunken man, strikin' at and destroyin' all the safety and happiness of a home, yes," sez i, "it is such a club." "yes," sez arvilly, "if poundin' his wife to jelly, and his children to deformity and death, is a poor man's club, the saloon is one." sez he agin, "rich men have their clubs to which they may go, and drink all they choose--carouse, do as they please, and why not poor men, too?" he added. and i sez, "grantin' that rich men do drink and carouse at their clubs, as i don't know whether they do or not, two wrongs never made one right, and the liquor couldn't hurt 'em so much, for they can buy it pure, and the poor man's drink is pizen by adulteration, makin' a more dangerous drunk, ruinin' their health and makin' 'em spilin' for fights and bloodshed. the rich man can stay all night at his club, or if he goes home the decorous butler or vally can tend to him and protect his family if need be; he won't stagger in at midnight to a comfortless room, where his wife and little ones are herded in cold and starvation and are alone and at his mercy, and the rich man's carouse at his club won't keep his wife and children hungry for a week." bein' driv out of that position elder wessel tried a new tact: "the poor man has just as much right to the social enjoyment they git out of their saloon as you have, madam, to your afternoon teas and church socials." "what hinders the poor man from 'tendin' socials?" sez arvilly, spiritedly. "they are always bein' teased to, and anyway i never knew tea to make anybody crazy drunk." "the poor man," sez elder wessel in his most dictorial way, all of arvilly's talk havin' slipped offen him like rain water offen a brass horn, "the poor man, after he has worked hard all day, and has nothing to go home to but a room full of cryin' children, discomfort, squalor and a complaining wife, is justified in my opinion to go to the only bright, happy place he knows of, the saloon." but i sez, bein' such a case for justice, "how is it with the wife who has worked hard all day in the home of discomfort and squalor, her work being rendered ten times harder and more nerve destroying than her husband's by the care of the cryin' children, how would it be for them, who are equally responsible for the marriage and the children, to take holt together and make the children happier and the home less full of discomfort?" "yes," sez arvilly, "is it goin' to make the home less full of discomfort to have him reel home at midnight and dash the hungry cryin' baby aginst the wall and put out its feeble life, and mebby kill the complainin' wife too?" "oh, those are extreme cases and uncommon," sez elder wessel. "not oncommon at all," sez arvilly. "if you read the daily papers you will see such things as this, the direct work of the saloon, are continually occurring, too common in fact to attract much attention." he couldn't deny this, for he knew that we read the papers jest the same as he did, and the fact that he couldn't deny it seemed to kinder tire him, and he sez, getting up: "i guess i will go and smoke a cigar." and he went. and i went up to my room, too, to pack my satchel bag, for we expected to start the very next mornin' and to be gone about a week or ten days. well, the steamer took us to hilo, and the panorama that swep' by us on that steamer can't never be reproduced by any camera or kodak; the sapphire blue water, the hills standing like mountains of beaten gold and velvety green verdure, and beyond the soft blue and purple mountain ranges, agin deep clefts and cliffs of richest colored rocks with feathery white waterfalls floating down on 'em like a veil, anon pleasant landscapes, sugar cane plantations, picturesque houses, windmills, orchards, dancing brooks and broad green fields. no dissolvin' view wuz ever so entrancin', but like all others it had to dissolve. we reached hilo the second day and we all went to a comfortable tarven, and the next mornin' bright and early we sot off on the stage for the volcano over, i state, and state it fearlessly, the most beautiful road that wuz ever built towards any volcano or anything else. why, i've thought that the road between jonesville and loontown wuz beautiful and easy travellin'. old hagadone is path-master and vain of the road, and calls the men out twice a year to pay poll taxes and such by workin' it. sugar maples, elder bushes, and shuemakes, and wild grapes and ivy run along the side of the stun wall, makin' it, i always had thought, on-approachable in beauty. but, good land! if old hagadone had seen that road he would have turned green as grass with envy. imagine a wide road, smooth as glass, cut right out of a glowing tropical forest with a almost onimagined splendor, that i spoze was meant to be onseen by mortal eyes, risin' up on each side on't. why, i've been as proud as a peacock of my little hibiscus growin' in grandma allen's old teapot, and when that blowed out one little blow i called the neighbors in to witness the gorgeous sight. imagine a hibiscus tree, as big as one of our biggest maples, fairly burnin' all over with the gorgeous blossoms, and bananas with their great glossy leaves, and lantannas. wuzn't i proud of my lantanna growin' in ma smith's blue sugar bowl? i thought it wuz a lovely sight when it had three blows on it at one time. but imagine milds and milds of 'em risin' up thirty feet on each side of the road, and little spindlin' palms, that we envy if growin' two feet high, growin' here to a hundred feet or more, and begonias and geraniums growin' up into tall trees and of every color, tuberoses and magnolias loadin' the air with fragance, the glossy green of the ohia tree with the iaia vine climbing and racing over it all, mingled in with tamarind and oranges and bamboo, and oleanders with their delicious pink and white blossoms. sez i: "do you remember my little oleander growin' in a sap bucket, josiah? did you ever think of seein' 'em growin' fifty feet high? what a priceless treasure one would be in jonesville." and he whispered back real voyalent: "don't think, samantha, of gittin' me to lug one of them fifty-foot trees all the way hum. i've broke my back for years luggin' round your old oleander in a tub, but never will i tackle one of them trees," and he looked up defiantly into the glossy boughs overhead. "i hain't asked you to, josiah, but," sez i dreamily: "i would love to git some slips of them fuchia and begonia trees, and that jasmine," sez i, pintin' up to the emerald waves of foliage enriched by them i have named, and as many other glowin' with perfume and beauty as there are stars in the heavens, or so it seemed to me. sez i: "what a show i could make in jonesville with 'em." sez i: "what would miss bobbett and sister henzy say if they could see 'em?" and i pinted up at a gigantick trumpet creeper and convolvuli, festooned along the boughs of a giant geranium and hanging down its banner of bloom. "they'd say, let well enough alone. i tell you i can't break up my trip diggin' dirt and tendin' to a lot of houseplants from dan to beersheba." "we're not goin' to dan," sez i, "and if we wuz a man might meet dan doin' worse than pleasin' his pardner. look at that jasmine," sez i. "is that much like that little slip of sister bobbett's growin' in a tea-cup? and see! oh, do see, josiah, them night bloomin' ceriuses! oh, take it on a moonlight night, the walls of fragrant green on either side, and them lovely blows, hundreds and thousands of 'em shinin' out like stars of whiteness, full of the odor of paradise. oh, what a sight, josiah allen, for us to see!" and he sez, "don't git any idee, samantha, of you and me comin' way back here by moonlight, for we can't do it. the road is thirty milds long, and if we tried it we shouldn't git here till they had done blowin'." "i hain't no idee of tryin' it, josiah, i wuz only revellin' in the idee of what the glory of the sight must be." "well," sez he, "i am revellin' in the idee of havin' a good meat dinner if we ever git to hilo." and he added with a sarcastick smile, "don't that make you think of poker? high, low--all it wants is jack and the game." i gin him a stern look and sez, "some knowledge is demeanin' to a perfessor." and he acted puggicky and didn't say another word for a mild or so. but i sot calm and looked away into the entrancin' seen. and all the time we wuz rollin' on towards the volcano. robert and dorothy seemed to be enjoying the seen as much as i did, and arvilly wuz tryin' to canvass the scotchman. the englishman had already bought the "twin crimes," and so she wuz as happy as she ever would be, i spozed. well, after that long enchantin' ride through paradise, at last we reached the place we wuz bound for and put up to the volcano house, from which a good view of the volcano is seen at night, but nothin' to what it is to stand on its shores. well, i will pass over all intervenin' incidents, some as the lava duz when it gits started, and draw the curtain on us agin as we stood in front of that awful, majestic, dretful, sublime, unapproachable, devilish, glorious--a thousand times glorious--and not to be forgot till death, sight. tongue can't utter words to describe it; the pen hain't made, the egg hain't laid to hatch out the soarin' eagle whose feathers could be wrought into a pen fittin' to describe that seen. why, i have thought when the mash got to burnin' down to the lake it wuz a grand sight; jonesvillians have driv milds to see it. i have seen upwards of ten acres of the mash burnin' over at one time, and felt awestruck, and so did sister bobbett, for we went down together once with our pardners on a buckboard. but, sez i to myself almost instinctively: "what if sister bobbett wuz here? what would she say?" imagine a great lake of fire instead of water, waves of burning lava dashing up onto its shores, bustin' way up in the air at times, towerin' pillers of flame, swishin' and swashin', fire and flames, and brimstun for all i know. what--what wuz goin' on way down in the depths below if this wuz the seen outside? so wildly i questioned my heart and josiah. "oh, josiah!" sez i, "what--what a sight! did i ever expect to witness such a seen? no, oh no," i sez. "what do you spoze is goin' on inside of that great roarin', blazin' monster?" sez he, "i know what's goin' on inside of me; i know i am jest starvin', faintin' away fur want of food." "well," sez i soothin'ly, "when we get back to the volcano house i will ask for some bread and milk for you." "bread and milk!" sez he bitterly. "i want pork and beans, and ham, and biled greens, and chicken pie and injun puddin'!" "well, well," sez i, "be calm. do jest see them great waves and fields of lava, milds and milds of 'em, once jest melted fire, rollin' on and rollin' on--what a sight!" sez i. on one side wuz a sort of a high terrace, over which the fiery flames had fell and hardened into solid waves lookin' some as our niagara would look if her flowin' waters should suddenly harden as they flowed. i pinted it out to arvilly, who wuz by my side. sez i, "do look at that! it seems as if nater had jest hung up that stupendous sheet there and writ on it the word glory! unapproachable glory and magesty!" sez arvilly dreamily, "if i could jest dig out in that smooth lava the words, 'the twin crimes of america--intemperance and greed,' and train the volcano to run blazin' fire into the mould, what a advertisement that would be for my book, or for the 'wild, wicked and warlike deeds of man.' it would help the sale of both on 'em tremendously." and i sez, "don't try to train no volcanos, arvilly; you would find them worse to handle than any man you ever tackled." "well," sez she dreamily, "i believe it could be done." robert strong and dorothy stood clost together, he a-protectin' her, as i spozed. 'tennyrate he seemed dretful careful where she stepped and how and when, and she looked up real confidin' and sweet into his face, and then, awestruck and wonder smit, down into the burnin' lake below. the englishman and scotchman had gone on a little nigher to it, with the guide. hale-mau-mau (house of endless fire), well did the natives name it. well, it wuz long before we tore ourselves from the sublime seen, and i dremp of it all night. i see josiah bore from me on the lava flood, and then agin i wuz swep' from him and dashed up on a billow of flame, and visey versey, versey visey. i had a dretful night, and got up twice and looked out of the winder on the grand spectacle. but towards mornin' i had a beautiful vision: my pardner and me wuz bore back to jonesville, and sot in our own door yard under a spreadin' geranium tree, and sister bobbett stood admirin'ly before me with a tea-cup in her hand, beggin' for a slip from the immense branches. it wuz a sweet dream, and i waked up refreshed. chapter xi well, one week later we found ourselves agin on the boundless deep, the broad pacific, bound for the philippines. how fur off from jonesville did i seem as i thought on't, but love journeyed with me, and duty. tommy wuz gittin' fat and rosy, his cough grew better every day, and he looked and acted like a different child. this wuz to be a longer voyage than we had took. we layed out to stop to the philippines first, and so on to china and japan. it beats all how soon you settle down and seem to feel as if the great ship you are embarked on is the world, and the little corner you occupy your home, specially if you have a devoted pardner with you to share your corner, for love can make a home anywhere. arvilly got a number of new subscribers and made friends amongst the passengers, but elder wessel avoided her. and he didn't seem to like sister evangeline. i told him what i had seen and hearn, for it seemed to me like a olive branch bore into our dark, rainy world by a dove of paradise. but he scoffed at it; he said that it wuz all imagination. but i sez: "it hain't imagination that the poor woman wuz dyin' and sister evangeline saved her." and he said that wuz a coincidence, and i said that it wuz a pity there wuzn't more such coincidences. and he didn't answer me at all. he wuz settin' up on his creed with his legs hangin' off, and he sot straight, no danger of his gittin' off and goin' down amongst the poor steerage passengers and helpin' 'em. he thought he wuz a eminent christian, but in my opinion he might have been converted over agin without doin' him any harm. well, the big world we wuz inhabitin' moved on over the calm waters. josiah read a good deal, settin' in the library with tommy on his knee. and i read some myself, but took considerable comfort studyin' the different passengers, some as if they wuz books with different bindin's, some gilt and gay, some dull and solid and some sombry, but each with different readin' inside. and stiddy and swift, onheedin' any of our feelin's or fears, the great ship ploughed on, takin' us towards that wuz comin' to meet us onbeknown to us. miss meechim kep' up pretty well, keepin' a good lookout on dorothy, but restin' her mind on robert strong's protection, and robert and dorothy seemed to enjoy themselves better and better all the time, singing together, and walking up and down the deck for hours on pleasant days and matchless nights lit with the brilliant light of moon and star, and southern cross, and i didn't know what other light might be shinin' on 'em onbeknown to miss meechim, but mistrusted by me. elder wessel, when we wuz with lucia, didn't seem to want anything else on earth. she wuz a pretty girl, but i could see that she wuz very romantic; she had read sights of novels, and wuz lookin' out for some prince in disguise to ride up on a white charger to carry her off and share his throne. but i could see that if the right influences wuz throwd around her she had the makin' of a noble woman in her, and i hoped she would grow up a good, helpful woman. she had a great influence over aronette, whose nater wuz more yieldin' and gentle, and i didn't altogether approve of their intimacy, but considered that it would be broke off pretty quick, as they would part for good and all when we got to china. you may wonder why i worried about aronette; well, the reason wuz, i loved her, jest as everybody else did who knew her well. she wuz a darling girl, always sweet tempered, always trying to help somebody; dorothy loved her just as much as though she wuz her sister and would have treated her exactly like one if it hadn't been for miss meechim. she loved aronette herself, and showed her love by her goodness, buying her everything she needed and didn't need, but she wuz so hauty naturally that she insisted on aronette's keepin' her place, as she said. and she was so sweet dispositioned and humble sperited she didn't want to do any different. well, i spoze miss meechim wuz right; if aronette wuz dorothy's maid it wuzn't to be expected that she would take her visitin' with her, and it wuz aronette's delight to wait on dorothy as devotedly as if no ties of love bound their young hearts together. robert strong liked and respected her, i spoze mebby on dorothy's account, and tommy adored her; why, even josiah felt towards her, he said, some as if she wuz tirzah ann growed young agin. arvilly's heart she won completely by makin' her a bag to carry the "twin crimes" in. it wuz made of handsome black silk, worked all round in pink silk in a handsome pattern, and she had worked on one side in big letters, "the twin crimes of america, intemperance and greed." arvilly almost cried with joy when she gin it to her, and sez to me, "that aronette is the best girl in the hull world and the sweetest. look at that embroidery," sez she, holdin' up the handsome bag before my eyes, "you can see that as fur as you can see me; that bag alone is enough to sell the book, and i wuz jest wearin' out the agent's copy. there hain't anything in the world i wouldn't do for that girl." yes, we all loved her dearly, and a dozen times a day we would say to each other what should we ever do without aronette. josiah wuz seasick some, but not nigh so bad as he thought, and tommy kept well and happy all the time, and wonnered and wonnered at everything and seemed to take comfort in it, and he would set in his little chair on deck and talk to carabi for hours, and i d'no whether carabi wuz enjoyin' the trip or not; i didn't seem to have any way of knowin'. one day tommy and i wuz lookin' off on the broad blue waters and we see approachin' what looked like a boat with its tiny sail set. it looked so like a boat set out from fairyland that instinctively i thought of carabi, but a passenger standin' by said that it wuz a nautilus, and afterwards we see lots of 'em. and the southern cross bent over us nights as if to uphold our souls with the thought that our heavenly gardeen would take care on us. and some nights the sea wuz lit up with phosphorescent light into a seen of glory that i can't describe and hain't goin' to let josiah try to; i hain't a goin' to have that man made light of, and shakespeare couldn't do justice to it. low down over our heads the heavens leaned, the glassy waters aspired upward in sparks of flame. the south wind whispered soft, strange secrets to us, sweeping up from the misty horizon. our souls listened--but shaw! i said i wuzn't goin' to try to describe the glory and i hain't. and the ship sailed on. one evenin' there wuz another steamer sighted, most everybody wuz on deck. sister evangeline wuz down takin' care of that poor woman and child and the fever patients; tommy wuz asleep; josiah wuz readin' the old newspaper he had wropped his clothes in, and which he had treasured fondly. he wuz readin' the advertisements, help wanted and such. i asked him what good them advertisements would do him ten thousand milds from hum, but he said no knowin' what might happen and anything in the paper wuz good readin'. that man's blind adherence to party has caused me many a forebodin', it is a menace to good government and public safety, and i have told him so. well, i santered down into the cabin and there i found elder wessel all alone. he had jest been readin' a powerful editorial that coincided with his views exactly, and he leaned back and put a thumb in each arm-hole of his vest and sez: "what a glorious work the united states is doin' here in the philippines." and i sez, "yes, that is so, the united states is doin' a great and noble work in educating and civilizing the natives, if it wuzn't for the one great mistake she is making and duz make wherever she plants her banner in a new country amongst a new people. "side by side with her schoolhouses and churches that are trying to lift humanity heavenward the american saloon is found lowering humanity and undoing the work these ministers and teachers have so faithfully tried to do." i guess he didn't hear me, but 'tennyrate he went right on: "oh, yes, oh, yes, our christian nation goes to these benighted islands, carrying christianity and civilization in its hand. of course they may not ever come up to the hite of our own perfect, matchless civilization, but they will approach it, they will approach it." sez arvilly: "our nation won't come up to them in years and years, if it ever duz!" he jumped as if he had been shot; he thought we wuz alone, and sez: "why--why, sister arvilly--you must admit these savages are behind us in knowledge." "so much the worse for us; the sin of ignorance is goin' to be winked at, but if we know better we ort to do better." elder wessel wuz stunted, but he murmured instinctively sunthin' about our carryin' the bible and the knowledge of heaven to 'em. arvilly snapped out: "what good will that do if we carry private hells to burn 'em up before they die? a pretty help that is! what is the use of teachin' 'em about heaven if our civilization makes sure the first thing it duz to keep 'em out of it, for no drunkard shall inherit heaven. what's the use of gittin' 'em to hankerin' after sunthin' they can't have." the elder wuz almost paralyzed, but he murmured instinctively sunthin' about our duty to the poor naked heathen hanging like monkeys from the tree tops, like animals even in their recreation. and arvilly bein' so rousted up and beyend reasonable reason, sez: "that's their bizness about not bein' clothed, and anyway it is jest as the lord started the human race out in the garden of eden, and they do wear enough to cover their nakedness, and that's more than some of our fashionable wimmen do, and 'tennyrate they don't suffer so much as our wimmen do with their torturin' tight shoes and steel instruments of agony bound round their waists, compressin' their vital organs into a mass of deformity." elder wessel wuz so browbeat that he kinder got offen his subject, and with a dazed look he murmured sunthin' about "the wicked religion of cuba when the americans took it--the papal indulgences, the cruel bull fights, the national recreations--you could always tell the low state of a nation's civilization by the brutish recreations they indulged in." sez arvilly, in a loud, mad axent, "talk about brutal amusements, why they ort to send missionaries to america to reform us as fur up in decency as to use animals to fight fur our recreation instead of human bein's. bulls hain't spozed to have immortal souls, and think how america pays two men made in the image of god so much an hour--high wages, too--to beat and pound and maim and kill each other for the amusement of a congregation of christian men and wimmen, who set and applaud and howl with delight when a more cruel blow than common fells one on 'em to the earth. and then our newspapers fight it all over for the enjoyment of the family fireside, for the wimmen and children and invalids, mebby, that couldn't take in the rare treat at first sight. every blow, every cruel bruise that wuz made in the suffering flesh reproduced for sunday reading. and if one of the fighters is killed and his mangled body taken out of the fighting ring forever, taken home to his wife and children with the comfortin' peticulars that he wuz killed for the amusement of men and wimmen, most on 'em church members, and all citizens of our christian republic by special license of the government, why then the newspapers, which are the exponents of our civilization and the teachers of our youth, have a splendid time relating the ghastly story under staring headlines. after all this, talk to me about our country's dastin to have the face to reform any other country's amusement. our prize fights that our nation gives licenses for its people to enjoy are as much worse than bull fights, in view of america's professions of goodness, as it would be for an angel to fly down 'lection day amongst a drunken crowd and git drunk as a fool, and stagger round and act with her wings dirty and a-floppin'." elder wessel wuz took completely back, i could see, by arvilly's eloquence, and i wuz myself. the sharp-toothed harrow of grief had turned up new furrows in her soul, in which strange plants growed. and before elder wessel could speak she went on a-thinkin' back about sunthin' he'd said. "indulgences to sin! if i granted licenses for all kinds of sin for money, as our nation duz, i wouldn't talk about papal indulgences. see how wimmen are used--embruted, insulted, ground beneath the heel of lust and ruin by these same license laws." "but, sister arvilly," sez he, "i was reading only this morning a sermon upon how much our civilization had to do in lifting women into the high place they occupy to-day." "high place!" sez arvilly, and i fairly trembled in my shoes to hear her axent. "wimmen occupy a dretful high place. i can tell you jest the place she occupies. you have been told of it often enough; you ort to know it, but don't seem to. a woman occupies the same bench with lunatics, idiots and criminals, only hern is enough sight harder under legal licenses and taxation laws." "but," sez the elder, "the courtesy with which women are treated, the politeness, the deference----" "if you wuz kicked out of your meetin' house, elder wessel, would it make any difference to you whether the shue you wuz kicked with wuz patent leather or cowhide? the important thing to you would be that you wuz layin' on the ground outside, and the door locked behind you." sez elder wessel, "that is a strong metafor, sister arvilly. i had never looked at it in that light before." "i presume so," sez she. "the very reason why there are so many cryin' abuses to-day is because good men spend their strength in writin' eloquent sermons aginst sin, and lettin' it alone, instead of grapplin' with it at the ballot box. our lord took a whip and scourged the money changers out of the temple. and that is what ministers ort to do, and have got to do, if the world is saved from its sins--scourge the money changers who sell purity and honor, true religion and goodness for money. "satan don't care how much ministers talk about temperance and goodness and morality in the pulpit to a lot of wimmen and children that the congregations are made up of mostly, or how many essays are writ about it, tied with blue ribbin. but when ministers and church members take hold on it as ernest white has and attacks it at the ballot box, and defends and reinforces the right and left flank with all the spiritual and material and legal forces he can muster, why then satan feels his throne tremble under him and he shakes in his shues." but before elder wessel could frame a reply josiah come in with the news that the steamer had approached and brung mail to the passengers. and we all hurried up to see what we had got. well, the steamer wuz passin' away like ships in the night, but i found that i had several letters from home. the children wuz gettin' well. philury and ury well and doin' well. and one letter wuz from cousin john richard, that blessed creeter! who, it will be remembered, went to africa as a missionary to help the colony of freedmen to a knowledge of the true freedom in christ jesus. only two idees that blessed creeter ever seemed to have: first, what his duty wuz, and, second, to do it. his letter run as follows: "dear cousin: here in the far off tropics where i thought to live and die with the people i have loved and given my life to help, the lord has wonderfully blessed our labors. the colony is prospering as i never expected to see it. the people are beginning to see that a true republic can only exist by governing one's own self, that in the hands of each individual is the destiny of the nation. we are a peaceful people, greatly helped under the lord by the fact that not a saloon blackens the pure air of victor. "how can the crazed brain of a drunken man help a nation only to weaken and destroy? how can children born under the curse of drink be otherwise than a burden and curse to the public weal? how can a righteous ruler handle this menace to freedom and purity save to stamp it beneath his feet? as we have no saloons in victor, so we have no almshouses or prisons, the few poor and wrongdoers being cared for by private individuals, remunerated by public tax. "so greatly has the lord prospered us that i felt i was needed elsewhere more than here; i felt that america instead of africa needed the help of teachers of the most high. tidings have reached me from the philippines that made me think it was my duty to go there. into these islands, inhabited, as has been said, by people 'half devil, half child,' has been introduced the worst crime of america, the drink evil, the worst demon outside the bottomless pit, making of sane, good men brutes and demons, a danger to themselves and the whole community. "it is hard to believe that a christian civilization, a christian ruler, should send regiments of bright young boys so far from all the deterring influences of home and home life; send those who were the light of happy homes, the idols of fond hearts, to face the dreadful climate, the savage warfare, to colonize the graveyards in the sodden earth, to be thrown into the worst evils of war, to face danger and death, and with all this provided by the government that should protect them this dreadful temptation to ensnare their boyish wills and lead them into captivity. "then i could not leave victor, but now that i can i feel that god is calling me to go there to preach the gospel of christ, to fight this mighty foe, intemperance, to preach the gospel of sane and clean living and thinking. knowing from my experience here in victor, had i no other knowledge of it, how that blessed gospel of love is the only true liberty. for what advantage is liberty of the body when the soul, the weak will, is bound in the most galling of chains? "america is doing a great work in educating and helping this country, and were it not for this evil i go to combat, its work would be blessed of god and man. "so, as i said, i sail to-morrow for the philippines with three of my native converts, good christians, willing to die, if need be, for their faith." this letter had been written more than a month, so long had it been comin' to me, and i wuz tickled enough to think that when we got to the philippines we should see cousin john richard. chapter xii the shore of manila looked dretful low and flat as we come up to it some as old shelmadine's land lays along the lake shore. so you'd think that if it rained hard and raised the water a inch it would overflow it. and the houses looked dretful low and squatty, mebby it wuz on account of earthquakes they built 'em so. josiah thought it wuz so they could shingle 'em standin' on the ground. i inclined to the earthquakes. our boat wuz small enough to go over the surf and up the pasig river. the water didn't look very clean, and on it wuz floatin' what looked like little cabbage heads. josiah thought they wuz, and sez he real excited: "thank fortin if they have cabbages to throw away here i shall be likely to git a good biled dinner, and mebby a biled puddin' with lemon sass." but they wuzn't cabbages, they wuz some kind of a water plant that growed right there in the water. as we sailed along some queer lookin' boats, lookin' some like corn houses standin' on end, bulged out towards us from the shore. they said they wuz cargo lighters to onload ships, and mebby they wuz. and one peculiarity i see that i despised. the natives all seemed to wear their shirts over their pantaloons, hangin' loose, and some on 'em didn't have on any pantaloons, jest the shirt, and some not even that, jest a sash or so tied round about 'em. i despised the sight and sez to josiah: "they might do as much as adam did anyway; they might wear some leaves round 'em, there is plenty of fig trees here i spoze." and he sez: "i have been thinkin' that it is a crackin' good idee to wear the shirt over the pantaloons; it would be cool and look all right after we got used to it; the bottom of the shirt could be ruffled or trimmed with tattin or red braid, and they would look as dressy agin as i've always wore 'em." i looked daggers at him out of my eyes and sez: "what won't you take it into your head to do next, josiah allen?" but our attention wuz drawed off by arvilly, who approached us. she looked skornfully at the costoom of the natives, and i hearn her say to herself: "not much chance to canvass here." but even as she spoke her eye fell hopefully on the opposite shore, like a good book agent scanning the earth and heavens for a possible subscriber. miss meechim, who had come on deck with dorothy and robert, looked benignantly at the natives and sez: "the poor ye shall always have with you," and she put her hand in the little bag that she always wore at her side and said: "i wonder if i have got a copy of that blessed tract with me, 'the naked sinner clothed and in his right mind.'" but robert sez to her: "they wouldn't thank you for clothes, aunt albina; you will have to wait until we reach new york; some of the naked there would be gladly covered up from the snow and storms." "oh, don't compare our own blessed land with this heathen clime." "but," sez robert, "the warm breezes here bring only joy and comfort to that sinner's naked limbs, and the sin of ignorance may be forgiven. but the shivering sinners, crouching on the cold stone doorsteps, hearing dimly through their benumbed senses prayers and thanksgivings to the most high for mercies they have no part in, why that is quite a different matter." aronette wuz standing a little ways apart, talking with a young man. he wuz payin' her compliments, i knew, for there wuz a pink flush on her pretty face, and his eyes had admiration in them. i didn't like his looks at all; he looked dissipated and kinder mean, and i thought i would warn her aginst him when i got a good chance. lucia wessel, too, wuz holding her young charge by the hand, but her attention wuz all drawed off by another young chap that i'd seen with her a number of times, and i didn't like his looks; he had the same sort of a dissipated look that the other young man had, but i see by the expression of lucia's innocent eyes that she didn't share in my opinion; she looked as if she wuz fairly wropped up in him. i wondered what elder wessel would have said if he could have seen that look. but he wuz in blissful ignorance. he thought her bosom wuz composed of a equal mixture of snow and crystal, through which he could read every thought and emotion as soon as they wuz engraved on it. he thought there was no characters written there as yet by any manly hand save his own writ in characters of fatherly and daughterly love. he wuz holdin' forth to arvilly, and she with her nose turned up as fur as nater would let it go, wuz listenin' because he wouldn't let her git away. i thought by her expression he wuz praisin' the license laws, for on no other subject wuz he so eloquent, and on no other did arvilly's nose turn up to such a hite. dorothy and tommy wondered what those strange trees were that grew on the shore in front, and robert strong hastened to their side to help them to such information as he had on the subject. and he had knowledge on almost every subject under the heavens, so it seemed to me. well, anon or a little after, we found ourselves on shore and i wuz glad to feel terry firmy under my feet once more. lots of times on board ship the terry wuz so fur from the firmy that the solid land felt good under the soles of our shoes. yes, indeed! and though for some time tables and chairs, and even beds and bureaus had a way of advancin' up towards us and then retreatin' away from us over and over, yet as i say terry wuz considerable more firmy than the deck had been. well, it wuzn't long before we found ourselves at a comfortable hotel, not too comfortable, but decently so; and in the fulness of time we wuz seated at the table partaking of food which, though it didn't taste like my good jonesville vittles, still i could eat and be thankful for. josiah whispered to me: "onions and garlicks and peppers; i never could bear any on 'em, and here i be filled up with 'em; there hain't a single dish on this table but what's full of 'em. oh, samantha!" sez he pitifully, "if i could only eat one of your good dinnerses or supperses agin' it seems as if i would be willin' to die." and i whispered back to him to be calm. sez i, "do be reasonable; it ain't logic or religion to expect to be to home and travellin' abroad at the same time." he see it wuzn't and subsided with a low groan, and begun to nibble agin' on his food, but his looks wuz mournful, and if i could i would have put on a apron willin'ly and gone down into the kitchen and cooked him a good square meal, but i knew it wouldn't be thought on, so i kep' calm. well, our bed wuz kinder queer. it wuz quite noble lookin', four high posts with lace curtains looped up and mosquito nettin' danglin' down, and instead of springs a woven cane mattress stretched out lookin' some like our cane seat chairs. how to git under that canopy and not let in a swarm of mosquitoes wuz what we didn't know, but we did finally creep under and lay down. it wuz like layin' on the barn floor, the cane mattress didn't yield a mite, and josiah's low groans mingled with my sithes for quite a spell. tommy wuz fast asleep in his little bed and so didn't sense anything. well, the tegus night passed away, happily i spoze for the attentive mosquitoes who shared the canopy with us, and mebby liked to sample foreign acquaintances, but tegus for us, and we wuz glad when it wuz time to git up. the first meal of the day wuz brought to our room; chocolate not over good, some bread and some eggs, almost raw, wuz what it consisted of. josiah, who wanted some lamb chops, baked potatoes and coffee, wuz mad as a hen. "heavens and earth!" sez he, "why i never sucked eggs when a boy; have i got to come to it in my old age? raw eggs and chocklate you could cut with a knife. a few years of such food will leave you a widder, samantha." "well," sez i, "do let's make the best of it; when you're in rome do as the romans do." "i shan't suck eggs, for no romans or for no phillippine." "eat 'em with your spoon," sez i, "as you'd ort to." "or with my knife," sez he. "did you see them officers last night to the table eatin' sass with a knife? i should thought they'd cut their mouths open." "well, it is their way here, josiah. let's keep up and look forrerd to goin' home; that's the best fruit of travellin' abroad anyway, unless it is seein' tommy so well and hearty." josiah looked at his rosy face and didn't complain another word. he jest worships thomas josiah. well, after we eat this meal we went out walkin', josiah and i and tommy, and i spoze carabi went along, too, though we didn't see him. but then what two folks ever did see each other? why i never see josiah, and josiah never see me, not the real us. well, it wuz a strange, strange seen that wuz spread out before us; the place looked more'n half asleep, and as if it had been nappin' for some time; the low odd lookin' houses looked too as if they wuz in a sort of a dream or stupor. the american flag waved out here and there with a kind of a lazy bewildered floppin', as if it wuz wonderin' how under the sun it come to be there ten thousand milds from washington, d. c., and it wuz wonderin' what on earth it floated out there in the first place for. but come to look at it clost you could see a kind of a determined and sot look in the stars and stripes that seemed to say, "well, now i am here i hain't goin' to be driv out by no yeller grounded flags whatsumever." some of the carriages that we met wuz queer lookin', rough wooden two-wheeled carts, that looked as if they'd been made by hand that mornin'. josiah said that he could go out into the woods with ury and cut down a tree and make a better lookin' wagon in half an hour, but i don't spoze he could. some on 'em wuz drawed by a buffalo, which filled josiah with new idees about drivin' one of our cows in the democrat. sez he: "samantha, it would be real uneek to take you to meetin' with old line back or brindle, and if the minister got dry in meetin', and you know ministers do git awful dry sometimes, i could just go out and milk a tumbler full and pass it round to him." but i drawed his attention off; i couldn't brook the idee of ridin' after a cow and havin' it bellerin' round the meetin' house. the native wimmen we met wuz some on 'em dressed american style, and some on 'em dressed in their own picturesque native costoom. it wuz sometimes quite pretty, and one not calculated to pinch the waist in. a thin waist, with immense flowing sleeves and embroidered chemise showing through the waist, a large handkerchief folded about the neck with ends crossed, a gay skirt with a train and a square of black cloth drawn tight around the body from waist to knees. stockings are not worn very much, and the slippers are not much more than soles with little strips of leather going over the foot, and no heels. anon we would meet some chinamen, with eyes set in on a bias, and their hair hanging in two long tails down their backs; lots of them we see, then a priest would move slowly along, then a spanish señora, then a sailor, then perhaps a native dressed partly in european costoom lookin' like a fright. the street cars are little things drawed by one horse, and the streets are badly paved when they're paved at all. there wuz some handsome houses in the residence portion of the city, but aside from the cathedral there are few public buildings worth seeing. but one thing they have here always beautiful, and that is the luxuriant tropical vegetation, beautiful blossoming trees and shrubs, and the multitude of flowers, tall palms, bamboo, ebony, log-wood, mangoes, oranges, lemons, bread fruit, custard apples, and forty or fifty varieties of bananas, from little ones, not much more than a mouthful, to them eighteen or twenty inches long. josiah enjoyed his walk, finding many things to emulate when he got back to jonesville. among 'em wuz the chinamen's hair; he thought it wuz a dressy way to comb a man's hair, and he wondered dreamily how his would look if he let it grow out and braid it. but he said if he did, he should wear red ribbons on it, or baby blue. but i knew there wuz no danger of his hair ever stringin' down his back, for i could, if danger pressed too near, cut it off durin' his sleep, and would, too, even if it led to words. wall, arvilly's first work, after she had canvassed the hotel-keeper for the "twin crimes," and as many of the guests as she could, wuz to find out if waitstill wuz there. and sure enough she found her. she wuz in one of the hospitals and doin' a good work, jest as she would anywhere she wuz put. she come to the hotel to see us as soon as she could, and arvilly seemed to renew her age, having waitstill with her agin. we writ to once to cousin john richard. robert strong and dorothy wuz dretful interested in waitstill, i could see, and they asked a great many questions about her work in the hospital. and i see that robert wuz only grounded in his convictions when waitstill told him of the sickness the doctors and nurses had to contend with, and how largely it wuz caused by liquor drinking. hundreds of american saloons in manila, so she said, and sez she, "how can the hospitals hope to undo the evils that these do to men's souls and bodies?" sez she, "you know what a fearful disease and crime breeder it is in a temperate climate, but it is tenfold worse here in this tropical land." she wuz anxious to hear all the news from jonesville, and i willin'ly told her what phila ann had told me about elder white, and the noble work he was doin' in east loontown, and i sez, "missionary work is jest as necessary and jest as important and pleasin' to god if done in loontown as in the antipithies." and she said she knew it. and i sez: "elder white is working himself to death, and don't have the comforts of life, to say nothin' of the happiness he ort to." waitstill didn't say nothin', but i fancied a faint pink flush stole up into her white cheeks, some like the color that flashes up onto a snowbank at sunset. life wuz all snow and sunset to her, i could see, but i knowed that she wuz the one woman in the world for ernest white, the ideal woman his soul had always worshipped, and found realized in waitstill--poor little creeter! i didn't know whether the warm sun of his love could melt the snow and frozen hail or not--the sun duz melt such things--and i knew love wuz the greatest thing in the world. well, i had to leave the event to providence, and wuz willin' to; but yet, after a woman duz leave things to the most high to do, she loves to put in her oar and help things along; mebby that is the way of providence--who knows? but 'tennyrate i gin another blind hint to her before we left the conversation. sez i, "ernest white is doin' the lord's work if ever a man did, and i can't think it is the lord's will that whilst he's doin' it he ort to eat such bread as he has to--milk emtin's and sour at that, to say nothin' of fried stuff that a anaconda couldn't digest. he deserves a sweet, love-guarded home, and to be tended to by a woman that he loves--one who could inspire him and help him on in the heavenly way he's treading alone and lonesome." her cheeks did turn pink then, and her eyes looked like deep blue pools in which stars wuz shinin', but she didn't say anything, and robert strong resoomed his talk with her about her hospital work. and before she left he gin her a big check to use for her patients; i don't know exactly how big it wuz, but it went up into the hundreds, anyway; and dorothy gin her one, too, for i see her write it; miss meechim gin her her blessin' and more'n a dozen tracts, which mebby will set well on the patients, if administered cautious. i myself gin her the receipt for the best mustard poultice that ever drawed, and two pairs of clouded blue-and-white wool socks i had knit on the way, and though it wuz a warm country she said they would come handy when her patients had chills. there wuz two young american girls at the hotel, and they happened to come into the parlor while we wuz talkin' and they sent a big present to the hospital. i guess they wuz real well off and good dispositioned. they wuz travellin' alone and seemed to be havin' a real good time. one on 'em wuz sunthin' of a invalid, but wuz outdoors all day, i spoze tryin' to git well. they minded their own bizness and didn't do any hurt so fur as i could see, but elder wessel couldn't bear 'em. sez he to me one day: "i spoze they represent the new young woman?" he said it real skornful, and arvilly, who wuz present, took him up real snappish. "well, what of it? what have they done?" if that poor man had said that black wuz black and white wuz white, arvilly would found fault with it. "i don't object to what they have done," sez he, "so much as to what they are. young american women know too much." and arvilly sez with a meanin' glance at him, "that is sunthin' that everybody don't have to stand." she might just as well have called him a fool, her axent wuz such. arvilly is too hash. sez he: "now my lucia is different. she knows nothing about sin and wickedness, and i got this position for her, so that as soon as she left the convent she was placed directly in the care of this good woman and her little innocent child. what does she know of sin or sorrow, or worldliness or vanity?" "or danger?" sez i meanin'ly. "if she always has some one at her side to guard her, her perfect ignorance and innocence is a charm, but how would it be in the hour of danger and temptation? why should anybody fear being burned if they had no knowledge of fire?" "oh," sez he, "her divine innocence is her safeguard. evil would retire abashed before the timid glance of her pure eyes." "i hope so," sez i dryly. "i hope so. but i never knew the whiteness of its wool to help a lamb if a wolfdog got after it. but mebby it will in her case," sez i reasonably. "i don't want to break up your happiness," sez i. "you cannot," sez he dogmatically. "you cannot. i have brought up my lucia in the only right way for a young girl to be brought up. she has been completely separated from young people of the opposite sex; she knows nothing of fashionable flirting and folly. and when i see such abnormal creatures as the new girl, as they call her, i am horrified, shocked beyond words at the spectacle of their brazen independence and what they call their freedom, their comradeship with the opposite sex, their fearlessness and boldness and frankness with gentlemen, talking with them really as if they were of the same sex as themselves. as i see this i thank god my lucia is different." well, she wuz a pretty little thing, with eyes as innocent and timid as a young fawn's that had never been outside its green covert in the great wilderness. but i knew that under her baby looks and baby ways wuz a woman's heart; a woman's emotions and impulses would roust up when the time come and the sun of love shone down on her. why, nater had layed down laws before elder wessel did; he couldn't keep her from thinkin' about her future mate; she would let her mind dwell on some one if it wuz only the man in the moon. and i knew the world wuz full of bad men as well as good men. how would it be with her if thrown with a wolf in sheep's clothing? if guarded and sheltered, all right, but if onguarded and onwarned and thrown into temptation and danger, i felt that trouble wuz ahead for lucia wessel. but i knew it wuz no use for me to hist up a danger flag in front of her, for her father wouldn't let me. but i felt dubersome about her, dretful dubersome. she and aronette had formed a real girl attachment for each other, and some way i didn't like the idee on't, but don't know as i could have told why. well, we didn't lay out to stay long in manila, but we did stay long enough so dorothy and miss meechim and robert strong went round and see the different islands. they went to illollo and wuz gone for three days, aronette stayin' with me at the tarven, and dorothy told me when she got back how beautiful the journey wuz. the water wuz like glass, the sunrise and sunset marvellous, thickly wooded shores on either side filled with oncounted wealth. great forests of sandal-wood, enough to build houses of, and how we treasure little snips on't in fan sticks. mahogany trees enough to build barns and cow stables on, and how we gloat over a old clock case or lamp stand made on't. she said that illollo wuz like most old spanish towns, dretful old lookin' and kinder run down. the natives dressed like others she had seen, but spoke a different language. they went to the american general's headquarters some two milds off. a hundred varieties of palm trees grow along the road and every sort of tropical tree. the natives wuz all dark complected, but some good lookin', most all bareheaded or else with a gay turban and knives stuck in the sashes of their gay tunics. one day whilst the party wuz gone tommy and i wuz takin' a little walk; josiah couldn't go, he had got hold of a new york paper of three weeks before, and was readin' it through from title page to lost and found column. we wandered into a little cross street lined on each side with little shops with the shopkeepers squattin' in the door, and outside the native wives and children. everything under the sun almost wuz to be found in these shops, and we had wandered along for quite a good ways lookin' at the curious things, and still more curious people, when we met aronette and lucia, accompanied by the two young men i had seen with 'em on the boat; they wuz on the stoop of one of the old business buildin's, gigglin' and laughin' like a bevy of swallers round the eaves of a jonesville barn. but, as i said before, i didn't like the looks of the young men, and on aronette's return i told her so, feelin' i wuz in a measure responsible for her safety whilst her mistress wuz away. aronette wuz combin' tommy's hair and curlin' it over her finger as i talked to her, which made me feel some mean to attact her whilst in my service, but duty's apron string fluttered down before me and i stiddied myself on it as i spoke real good warnin' words to her. sez i, "my dear, i didn't like the looks of the young men i saw you walkin' with to-night." sez i, "i saw them two young men coming out of a saloon not a half hour before, and" sez i, "they look to me dissipated and mean. they drink; i know by their looks they do." and she sez, "oh, dear madam, i only went out to take the air a little while. you know i care for nobody in this country. my heart is in old normandie," sez she, the tears welling up to the blue well of her eyes. "my heart is with my pierre, but," sez she, kinder tossin' her head, not a high toss, only a little vain pretty motion of a pretty, thoughtless girl, some like a bluebird in the spring of the year, "if a young man insists on paying you a little attention what can a poor little girl do? the days are long when one is young and her own pierre so far away, and, dear madam, lucia was with me." "another innocent, ignorant young creature," sez i; "two little butterflies fluttering about instead of one, not thinkin' or carin' for the fouler's net," sez i, smilin' on her pleasant, for i couldn't help it. for i knew the heart of youth, and the monotony of life, and the need of young hearts for each other. but i didn't like the young men's looks and told her so agin, and she laughed, and said she didn't like their looks either. sez she, "their breath always smells of the whiskey. faugh!" sez she, "it makes me sick," and she shrugged her shoulders in the true french way. and i sez agin, lookin' solemn, "no young man whose breath smells of whiskey is safe for any young girl to associate with. it is a pizen atmosphere that blasts every sweet and pure thing that comes nigh it." and i sithed. and she said in her own sweet way that she knew i was telling the truth, for i talked just as her own sweet mother did. and she bent down with one of her pretty foreign ways and kissed my hand. dear little thing, i didn't spoze my talk had done her much good, but then i considered it couldn't do her any hurt 'tennyrate. and so i left the event to the overruling power, just as we poor weak mortals have to. chapter xiii well, a day or two after that josiah and i wuz takin' a walk, meetin' occasionally turks all dressed turkey fashion, and japans, and yankees and men and wimmen and children, when who should we meet face to face but cousin john richard, that blessed man. as i said, we had writ and writ and tried to find him, but didn't know but we should have to hunt round considerable, but wuz bound to not leave the islands till we'd seen him. but lo and behold! here he wuz, lookin' just as good and heavenly minded as ever. he wuz santerin' along apparently lost in deep thought or nearly lost. but when he see us he grasped our hands with a welcome that made us know that no matter to what a extent a man's soul may live in the heavens, his heart is tied with deathless ties to the relations on his own side and to their pardners if they be congenial. we stopped stun still and talked quite a spell about different things, our health, the relations and so forth. anon i sez, "cousin john richard, you look wan and pale, but it is a blessed work you are doin'." he had opened a midnight mission, helpin' the weak and tempted and overcome of both sects, preachin' the love of christ and follerin' his teachin' up by good works. he told us all about it as we santered on and said he wuz not weary or discouraged. and i could see that though his linement looked pale and worn a deathless light shone in his deep kind eyes and i knew he wuz endurin' as seein' him who wuz invisible. as we walked on he said, sadly pintin' to a barren lookin' spot sown thick with graves, "in this deadly climate the drink demon has little to do to assist his brother, death. our poor northern boys fall like rotten leaves before a hurricane." sez i, lookin' up to the blue sky, "why don't the heavens fall when such things affront the light of day!" "the patience of god," sez cousin john richard, "is one of the things we cannot measure." "nor his pity nuther," sez i in heart-broken axents, for as i looked at them thickly sown graves and thought of the mothers and wives and sweethearts fur, fur away mournin' for them that wuz not, my tears fell and i wiped 'em off with my snowy linen handkerchief. well, cousin john richard had an appointment in another part of the city and we parted away from each other, he promisin' to come and see us at our tarven before we left the city. well, we didn't make a long stay in manila. but arvilly beset me to go with her to see general grant, who was here on a tour of inspection, on this subject so near to her heart, and which she had made her lifework. she said that it wuz my duty to go. but i sez, "arvilly, you talk so hash; i can't bear to have the son of the man who saved his country talked to as i am afraid you will if you git to goin'." sez she, "i won't open my head. you know the subject from a to izzard. i'll jest stand by and listen, but somebody ort to talk to him. hundreds and hundreds of american saloons in this one city! forced onto these islands by our country. sunthin' has got to be done about it. if you don't go and talk to him about it i shall certainly go alone, and if i do go," sez she, "he will hear talk that he never hearn before." "i'll go, arvilly," sez i hurriedly, "i'll go and do the best i can, but if you put in and talk so hash it will jest throw me off the track." "a promise is a promise," sez she; "i never did break my word yet." well, havin' made the necessary preliminary moves, we met general grant by appointment in his own quarters. before we got inside the lines we had to advance and give the countersign, which wuz whiskey. arvilly planted herself right there like a balky mule and said she would die in her tracks before she said it. but i, knowin' that it wouldn't make nor break the traffick, sez, "whiskey," and i added, "may the lord destroy it!" arvilly sez, "amen!" and we walked in past the astounded sentry with out heads up. (general grant hadn't nothin' to do with that countersign; it wuz some officer's doin's.) well, general grant seemed quite pleased to see us. he's a real good-lookin' man, and if he hadn't any properties of his own he would be beloved for his pa's sake, but he has properties of his own. he is a good man and a smart one. well, the first compliments bein' passed, i lanched out into my bizness. sez i, "brigadier general grant, i have come to you on the most important mission any ambassador ever travelled on." sez he, "what sovereign, madam, do you represent, and from what country do you come?" sez i, "brigadier general grant, my mission is from the lord of hosts, and the country i come to plead for is your own native land--the united states--the land your own illustrious pa saved with the lord's help." he wuz deeply affected i see and invited us to set down, consequently we sot. and i sez, plungin' to once into my bizness as my way is in jonesville or the antipathies: "brigadier general, everybody knows that you are a brave man and a good man." he thanked me and looked pleased, as well he might from such an enconium from one of the first wimmen of the ages, and i resoomed: "general grant," sez i, "are you brave enough and good enough to tackle the worst foe america ever had?" sez he, "what foe do you allude to, mam?" sez i, "the foe that slays one hundred thousand a year, and causes ten thousand murders every year, steals the vittles and clothes from starvin' wimmen and children, has its deadly grip on church and state, and makes our civilization and christianity a mock and byword amongst them that think." "you allude to intemperance, i presume," sez he. he's dretful smart; he knew it in a minute from my description. "yes," sez i, "a foe a million times as dangerous as any your army ever faced, and a million times as hard to chase out of its ambuscade." sez i, "frederic (i thought mebby it would sound more convincin' and friendly if i called him frederic, and i wanted to convince him; i wanted to like a dog), i don't believe in war, but when your men died in battle they didn't moulder out a livin' death, chained to tender hearts, dragged along the putrid death path with 'em. their country honored 'em; they wuzn't thrust into dishonored graves, some as paupers, some as criminals swingin' from scaffolds. their country mourns for 'em and honors 'em. it wuzn't glad to cover their faces away from the light, brutish faces to hant 'em with reproach, i should think, knowin' how they died. try to think of that, frederic; try to take it to heart." i hearn arvilly behind me breathin' hard and kinder chokin' seemin'ly, and i knew she wuz holdin' herself in as tight as if she had a rope round her emotions and indignations to keep her from breakin' in and jinin' our talk, but she wuz as true as steel to her word and didn't say nothin' and i resoomed: "you've got to take such things to hum to realize 'em," sez i. "owin' to a sweet mother and a good father your boy mebby is safe. but spozein' he wuzn't, spozein' you and his sweet ma had to look on as millions of other pas and mas have to and see his handsome, manly young face growin' red, dissipated, brutal; his light, gay young heart changed to a demon's, and from bein' your chief pride you had to hide him out of sight like the foul and loathsome leper he had become. millions of other pas and mas that love their boys as well as you love yours have to do this. and if it wuz your boy what would you say of the legalized crime that made him so? wouldn't you turn the might of your great strength aginst it?" he didn't speak out loud, but i see from his looks that he would. "then," sez i, "do, do think of other pas and mas and sisters and sweethearts and wives weepin' and wailin' for husbands, sons and brothers slain by this enemy! i spoze," sez i reasonably, "that you think it is an old story and monotonous, but love is an old story and grief and death, but they are jest as true as at the creation and jest as solemn." i thought he looked a good deal convinced, but he looked as if he wuz thinkin' of the extreme difficulty of reachin' and vanquishin' this foe intrenched as it is in the lowest passions of men, hidin' behind the highest legal barriers and barricaded behind meetin' house doors, guarded by the ballots of saint and sinner; i read these thoughts on his forehead, and answered 'em jest as if he'd spoke. sez i, "when your illustrious father come up face to face with a foe no other general could manage, did he flinch and draw back because it had been called onmanageable by everybody else? no, he drawed a line between good and evil, black and white, and says, 'i'll fight it right out on this line.' and he did, and before his courage and bravery and persistence the foe fell. now, frederic, here is the biggest foe that the american people are facin' to-day; here are weak generals and incompetent ones. nobody can manage it; them high in authority wink at it and dassent tackle it, and so on down through all the grades of society--church and state--they dassent touch it. and what is the burnin'est shame, them that ort to fight it support it with all the political and moral help they can give it. here is a chance, frederic, for you to do tenfold more for your country's good than ever your revered father did, and you know and i know that if it wasn't for this great evil and a few others, such as the big trusts and a few other things, our country is the greatest and best that the sun ever shone on. if we loved our country as we ort to we would try to make her do away with these evils and stand up perfect under the heavens. it is the ma that loves her child that spanks her into doin' right if she can't coax her, and now do lay hold and help your country up onto the highest pedestal that a country ever stood on, and i'll help boost all i can." i hearn behind me a loud "amen," turned into a cough. arvilly wuzn't to blame; it spoke itself onbeknown to her. sez i, "this is a hard job i am askin' you to tackle. the foe your father fit was in front of him, but this foe is within and without, and has for allies, powers and principalities and the prince of darkness. and now will you, bearin' the name you do, of general grant, will you flinch before this black-hearted foe that aims at the heart and souls of your countrymen and countrywomen, or will you lead the forlorn hope? i believe that if you would raise the white banner and lead on this army of the cross, church and state would rally to your battle-cry, angels would swarm round your standard and the lord of hosts go forward before you." he didn't say he would, i spoze he wuz too agitated. but he sez sunthin' in a real polite way about what a good ambassador his country had in me. but i sez sadly, "i can't do much, frederic. i am a woman, and the only weepon that is able to slay this demon is hung up there in washington, d. c. wimmen can't reach up to it, they can't vote. but you can; your arm is longer, and with that you can slay this demon as st. george slew the dragon. and heaven itself would drop down heavenly immortelles to mix with our laurel leaves to crown your forehead. think on it, frederic, no war wuz ever so holy, no war on earth wuz ever so full of immortal consequences." and here i riz up, for i felt that i must leave the presence, not wantin' to make the presence twice glad. i reached out my right hand and sez, "good-by, and god bless you, for your own sake and for the sake of your noble pa." he looked earnest and thoughtful, that allusion to the boy he loved so, named after his illustrious grandpa, had touched his very soul. i felt that i had not lost my breath or the eloquence i had lavished. i felt that he would help save other bright young boys from the demon that sought their lives--the bloody demon that stalks up and down our country wrapped in a shelterin' mantilly made of the stars and stripes--oh, for shame! for shame that it is so! but i felt that general grant would come up to the help of the lord aginst the mighty, i felt it in my bones. but i wuz brung down a good deal in my feelin's as arvilly advanced to the front. she had kep' her word as to talkin', though the indignant sniffs and sithes behind me showed how hard it had been for her to keep her word, but now she advanced and sez, as she drew out her two books from her work bag: "general grant, i have two books here i would like to show you, one is the 'twin crimes of america: intemperance and greed,' that subject so ably presented to you by samantha; the other is 'the wild, wicked and warlike deeds of men.'" sez general grant, risin' up: "i haven't time, madam, to examine them, but put me down as a subscriber to both." arvilly wuz in high sperits all the way back. as we wended our way to the tarven agin who should we find but waitstill webb, and we wuz dretful glad on't, for we wuz layin' out to leave manila in a few days, and this would be our last meetin' for some time, if not forever. though i wuz glad to see when questioned by me about her return that she didn't act so determined as she had acted about devotin' her hull life to nursin' the sick. she told arvilly confidential that she had had a letter from ernest white since we had seen her. arvilly knew that he had wanted to make her his bride before she left jonesville. but the two ghosts, her murdered love and her duty, stalked between 'em then, and i spozed wuz stalkin' some now. but as i said more previous, the sun will melt the snow, and no knowin' what will take place. i even fancied that the cold snow wuz a little more soft and slushy than it had been, but couldn't tell for certain. chapter xiv a dretful thing has happened! i am almost too agitated to talk about it, but when i went down with my pardner and tommy to breakfast ruther late, for we wrote some letters before we went down, miss meechim broke the news to me with red eyes, swollen with weepin'. aronette, that dear sweet little maid that had waited on all on us as devoted as if we wuz her own mas and mas, wuz missin'. her bed hadn't been slep' in for all night; she went out early in the evenin' on a errent for dorothy and hadn't come back. she slept in a little room off from dorothy's, who had discovered aronette's absence very early in the morning, and they had all been searching for her ever sence. but no trace of her could be found; she had disappeared as utterly as if the earth had opened and swallowed her up. dorothy wuz sick in bed from worry and grief; she loved aronette like a sister; and miss meechim said, bein' broke up by sorrow, "next to my nephew and dorothy i loved that child." and anon another dretful thing wuz discovered. whilst we wuz talkin' about aronette, elder wessel rushed in distracted, with his neck-tie hangin' under one ear, and his coat buttoned up wrong and the feathers of his conceit and egotism and self-righteousness hangin' limp as a wet hen. lucia had gone too; had disappeared jest as aronette had, no trace could be found of her; her bed had not been slept in. she, too, had gone out on an errent the evening before. she and aronette had been seen to leave the hotel together in the early evening. elder wessel, half distracted, searched for them with all his strength of mind and purse. i started josiah off a huntin' the minute he had got through eatin'. he refused pint blank to go before. "eat," sez i, "who can eat in such a time as this?" sez he, "it goes agin my stomach every mou'ful i take (which was true anyway), but we must eat, samantha," sez he, helpin' himself to another cake. "we must eat so's to keep up our strength to hunt high and low." well, i spozed he wuz in the right on't, but every mou'ful he consumed riled me. but at last the plate wuz emptied and the coffee pot out and he sot off. and we searched all that day and the next and the next, and so did miss meechim and arvilly, with tears runnin' down her face anon or oftener. robert strong, led on, miss meechim said by her anxiety, but i thought mebby by the agony in dorothy's sweet eyes as well as his own good heart, didn't leave a stone unturned in his efforts to find 'em. but they had disappeared utterly, no trace could be found of 'em. they had been seen during the evening with the two young men they had got acquainted with and that i didn't like. they had been seen speaking with them as they came out of the shop where dorothy had sent aronette, and the young men could not be found. well, we had all searched for three days without finding any trace of the two missing girls. everything wuz ready for our departure, but dorothy said that she could not, could not go without aronette, but robert strong said and believed that the child was dead. he had come to the belief that she and lucia by some accident had fallen into the water and wuz drowned. dorothy had cried herself sick and she looked wan and white, but bein' so sweet dispositioned she give up when we all said that we must go before long, and said that she would go too, though i knew that her heart would remain there wanderin' round in them queer streets huntin' for her lost one. the morning of the third day after they wuz lost i wuz down in the parlor, when a man come in and spoke to robert strong, and they both went out together talking earnestly, and i see in robert's face a look of horrow and surprise that i had never seen in it before; and the first time robert saw me alone after that he told me the dretful news. he said that the man that spoke to him was a detective he had employed, and the evening before he had come acrost a man who had been out of town since the night aronette wuz lost. this man told the detective that he saw her and lucia and the two young men coming out of a saloon late at night, staggering and reeling they all wuz, and they disappeared down a cross street towards another licensed house of ruin. licensed by christian america! oh, my achin' heart to think on't! "i wonder if our govermunt is satisfied now," i broke out, "since it has ruined her, one of the sweetest girls in the world. but how did they ever entice 'em into that saloon?" sez i. "they might have made them think it was respectable, they do serve lunches at some of them; of course they didn't know what kind of a place it was. and after they wuz made stupid drunk they didn't know or care where they went." "i wonder if america is satisfied now!" i sez agin, "reachin' out her long arms clear acrost the pacific to lead them sweet girls into the pit she has dug for her soldiers? oh!" sez i, "if she'd only been drownded!" and i wiped my streamin' eyes on my linen handkerchief. and robert sithed deep and sez, "yes, if she had only died, and," he sez, "i can't tell dorothy, i cannot." and i sez, "there is no need on't; better let her think she's dead. how long," sez i, turning toward him fierce in my aspect, "how long is the lord and decent folks goin' to allow such things to go on?" and he sez, "heaven knows, i don't." and we couldn't say more, for dorothy wuz approachin', and robert called up a smile to his troubled face as he went forward to meet her. but he told me afterwards that the news had almost killed elder wessel. he had to tell him to help him in his search. he wuz goin' to stay on there a spell longer. he had to tell him that lucia had been seen with aronette staggering out of a saloon with two young men late at night, reeling down a by-street to that other licensed house which our christian govermunt keeps nigh the saloon, it is so obleegin' and fatherly to its men and boys. when he told him elder wessel fell right down in his chair, robert said, and buried his face in his hands, and when he took his hands down it wuz from the face of an old man, a haggard, wretched, broken-down old man. the people's club house didn't wear the kindly beneficent aspect it had wore. he felt that coffee and good books and music would have been safer to fill the poor man's club with; safer for the poor man; safer for the poor man's family. tea and coffee seemed to look different to him from whiskey, and true liberty that he had talked about didn't seem the liberty to kill and destroy. the license law didn't wear the aspect it had wore to him, the two licensed institutions christian america furnished for its citizens at home and abroad seemed now to him, instead of something to be winked at and excused, to be two accursed hells yawning for the young and innocent and unsuspicious as well as for the wicked and evil-minded. ungrateful country, here wuz one of thy sons who sung the praises of thy institutions under every sky! ungrateful indeed, to pierce thy most devoted vassal with this sharp thorn, this unbearable agony. "for how was he goin' to live through it," he cried. how was he? his beautiful, innocent daughter! his one pet lamb! it was not for her undoing that he had petted and smiled on these institutions, the fierce wolves of prey, and fed them with honeyed words of excuse and praise. no, it wuz for the undoing of some other man's daughter that he had imagined these institutions had been raised and cherished. he wuz an old broken man when he tottered out of that room. and whilst we wuz moving heaven and earth hunting for the girls he wuz raving with delerium with a doctor and trained nurse over him. poor man! doomed to spend his hull life a wretched wanderer, searching for the idol of his heart he wuz never to see agin--never! well, the time come when we wuz obleeged to leave manila. robert strong, for dorothy's sake as well as his own, left detectives to help on the search for the lost ones, and left word how to communicate with him at any time. waitstill webb, bein' consulted with, promised to do all in her power to help find them, but she didn't act half so shocked and horrified as i spozed she would, not half so much as arvilly did. she forgot her canvassin' and wep' and cried for three or four days most all the time, and went round huntin', actin' more'n half crazy, her feelin's wuz such. but i spoze the reason waitstill acted so calm wuz that such things wuz so common in her experience. she had knowledge of the deadly saloon and its twin licensed horror, dretful things was occurring all the time, she said. the detectives also seemed to regard it as nothing out of the common, and as to the saloon-keeper, so much worse things wuz happenin' all the time in his profession, so much worse crimes, that he and his rich pardner, the american govermunt, sees goin' on all the time in their countless places of bizness, murders, suicides, etc., that they evidently seemed to consider this a very commonplace affair; and so of the other house kep' by the two pardners, the brazen-faced old hag and christian america, there, too, so many more terrible things wuz occurrin' all the time that this wuz a very tame thing to talk about. but to us who loved her, to us whose hearts wuz wrung thinkin' of her, mournin' for her, cryin' on our pillers, seekin' with agonized, hopeless eyes for our dear one, we kep' on searchin' day and night, hopin' aginst hope till the last minute of our stay there. and the moon and stars of the tropics looked in night after night to the room where the old father lay at death's door, mourning for his beautiful innocent daughter who wuz lost--lost. but the hour come for us to go and we went, and right by us, day or night, in sun or shade, from that hour on a black shadder walked by the side on us in place of the dimpled, merry face of the little maid. we didn't forgit her in the highest places or the lowest. and after days and days had passed i felt guilty, and as if i hadn't ort to be happy, and no knowin' where she'd drifted to in the cruel under world, and wuz like sea-weed driftin' in the ocean current. and when we wuz out evenin's, no matter where i wuz, i watched the faces of every painted, gaudy dressed creeter i see, flittin' down cross streets, hoping and dreading to see aronette's little form. arvilly and miss meechim openly and loudly, and dorothy's pale face and sorrowful eyes, told the story that they too wuz on the watch and would always be. but never did we catch a glimpse of her! never, never. as we drew nigh to the city of victoria on hongkong island we see that it wuz a beautiful place. big handsome houses built of gray stun, broad roads tree-bordered, leadin' up from terrace to terrace, all full of trees, covered with luxuriant tropical foliage. it wuz a fair seen clear from the water's edge, with its tall handsome houses risin' right up from the edge of the bay, clear up to the top of victoria mountain, that stands up two thousand feet, seemin'ly lookin' over the city to see what it is about. and this is truth and not clear simely, for the governor general and chief justice have houses up there which they call bungalows, and of course they have got to see what is goin' on. the hull island is only nine milds long and three wide. and here we wuz ten thousand milds from home. did the hongkongers ever think on't, that they wuz ten thousand milds from jonesville? i hope they didn't, it would make 'em too melancholy and deprested. we all went to a comfortable tarven nigh by, and after partakin' of nourishin' food, though kinder queer, and a good night's rest, we felt ready to look round and see what we could. josiah and i, with little tommy, wuz the first ones up in the mornin', and after breakfast we sallied out into the street. here i proposed that we should take a jinrikisha ride. this is a chair some like a big willow chair, only with a long pole fastened to each side and two men to carry you round. josiah wuz real took with the looks on 'em, and as the prize wuz low we got into the chairs, tommy settin' in josiah's lap, and wuz carried for quite a ways through the narrer streets, with shops juttin' out on each side, makin' 'em still narrerer. josiah gin orders that i overheard to "go at a pretty good jog past the stores where wimmen buy sooveneers," but i presoomed that they didn't understand a word he said, so it didn't do any hurt and i laid out to git some all the same. but what a sight them streets wuz; they wuz about twenty feet wide, and smooth and clean, but considerable steep. to us who wuz used to the peaceful deacons of jonesville and their alpaca-clad wives and the neighbors, who usually borry sleeve and skirt and coat and vest patterns, and so look all pretty much alike, what a sight to see the folks we did in goin' through just one street. every sort of dress that ever wuz wore we see there, it seemed to me--europeans, turks, mohomadeans, malays, japanese, javanese, hindoos, portuguese, half castes, and chinese coolies. josiah still called 'em "coolers," because they wuz dressed kinder cool, but carryin' baskets, buckets, sedans, or trottin' a sort of a slow trot hitched into a jinrikisha, or holdin' it on each side with their hands, with most nothin' on and two pigtail braids hangin' down their backs, and such a jabberin' in language strange to jonesville ears; peddlers yellin' out their goods, bells ginglin', gongs, fire-crackers, and all sorts of work goin' on right there in the streets. strange indeed to jonesville eyes! catch our folks takin' their work outdoors; we shouldn't call it decent. we went to the public gardens, which wuz beautiful with richly colored ornamental shrubbery. i sez to josiah: "did i ever expect to see allspice trees?" and he sez: "i can't bear allspice anyway." "well," sez i, "cinnamon trees; who ever thought of seein' cinnamon trees?" an' he looked at 'em pretty shrewd and sez: "when i git home i shan't pay no forty cents a pound for cinnamon. i can tell 'em i've seen the trees and i know it ort to be cheaper." sez he, "i could scrape off a pound or two with my jack-knife if we could carry it." but i hurried him on; i wuzn't goin' to lug a little wad of cinnamon ten thousand milds, even if he got it honest. well, we stayed here for quite a spell, seein' all the beautiful flowers, magnificent orchids--that would bring piles of money to home, jest as common here as buttercups and daisies in jonesville, and other beautiful exotics, that we treasure so as houseplants, growin' out-doors here in grand luxuriance--palms, tree-ferns, banian trees, everything i used to wonder over in my old gography i see right here growin' free. tommy wuz delighted with the strange, beautiful flowers, so unlike anything he had ever seen before. we had got out and walked round a spell here, and when we went to git into our sedan chairs agin, i wuz a little behind time, and josiah hollered out to me: "fey tea, samantha!" "tea?" sez i. "i hain't got any tea here." and i sez with dignity, "i don't know what you mean." "fey tea," he sez agin, lookin' clost at me. and i sez agin with dignity, "i don't know what you mean." and he sez to me: "i am talkin' chinese, samantha; that means 'hurry up.' i shall use that in jonesville. when you're standin' in the meetin' house door talkin' about bask patterns and hired girls with the female sisters, and i waitin' in the democrat, i shall holler out, 'fie tea, samantha;' it will be very stylish and uneek." i didn't argy with him, but got in well as i could, but havin' stepped on my dress and most tore it, josiah hollered out, "see sum! see sum! samantha!" and i, forgittin' his fashionable aims, sez to him, "see some what, josiah?" "see sum, samantha. that means 'be careful.' i shall use that too in jonesville. how genteel that will make me appear to holler out to brother gowdey or uncle sime bentley, in a muddy or slippery time, 'see sum, brother gowdey; see sum, uncle sime!' such doin's will make me sought after, samantha." "well," sez i, "we'd better be gittin' back to the tarven, for arvilly will be wonderin' where we are and the rest on 'em." "well, just as you say, samantha," and he leaned back in his chair and waved his hand and says to the men, "fey tea, fey tea; chop, chop." i expect to see trouble with that man in jonesville streets with his foreign ways. well, we wuz passin' through one of the narrer streets, through a perfect bedlam of strange cries in every strange language under the sun, so it seemed, and seein' every strange costoom that wuz ever wore, when, happy sight to jonesville eyes, there dawned on my weary vision a brown linen skirt and bask, made from my own pattern. yes, there stood arvilly conversin' with a stately sikh policeman. she held up the "twin crimes" in a allurin' way and wuz evidently rehearsin' its noble qualities. but as he didn't seem to understand a word she said she didn't make a sale. but she wuz lookin' round undanted for another subscriber when she ketched sight of us. and at my request we dismissed the jinrikishas and walked back to the tarven with her. dorothy and miss meechim and robert strong come back pretty soon from a tower of sight-seein', and they said we'd all been invited to tiffen with the governor-general the next day. well, i didn't have the least idee what it wuz, but i made up my mind to once that if tiffenin' wuz anything relatin' to gamblin' or the opium trade, i shouldn't have a thing to do with it. but josiah spoke right up and sez he had rather see tiffen than anybody else in china, and mistrustin' from robert's looks that he had made a mistake, he hastened to add that tiffenin' wuz sunthin' he had always hankered after; he had always wanted to tiffen, but hadn't the means in jonesville. sez robert, "then i shall accept this invitation for breakfast for all our party." and after they went out i sez: "i'd hold myself a little back, josiah. to say that you'd never had means to take breakfast in jonesville shows ignorance and casts a slur on me." "oh, i meant i never had any tiffen with it, samantha; you'll see it don't mean plain breakfast; you'll see that they'll pass some tiffen, and we shall have to eat it no matter what it's made on, rats or mice or anything. whoever heard of common breakfast at twelve m.?" well, it did mean just breakfast, and we had a real good time. we went up in sedan chairs, though we might have gone on the cars. but we wanted to go slower to enjoy the scenery. i had thought the view from the hill back of grout nickleson's wuz beautiful, and also the pali at honolulu, but it did seem to me that the seen we looked down on from the top of victoria mountain wuz the most beautiful i ever did see. the city lay at our feet embowered in tropical foliage, with its handsome uneek buildin's, its narrer windin' streets stretchin' fur up the mountain side, runnin' into narrerer mountain paths covered with white sand. the beautiful houses and gardens of the english colony clost down to the shore. the tall masts of the vessels in the harbor looking like a water forest with flowers of gayly colored flags. and further off the canton or pearl river, with scores of villages dotting its banks; glittering white temples, with their pinnacles glistening in the sunlight; pagodas, gayly painted with gilded bells, rising up from the beautiful tropical foliage; broad green fields; mountains soarin' up towards the blue heavens and the blue waters of the sea. a fair seen, a fair seen! i wished that sister henzy could see it, and told josiah so. and he sez with a satisfied look, "wait till i describe it to 'em, samantha. they'd ruther have me describe it to 'em than see it themselves." i doubted it some, but didn't contend. the breakfast wuz a good one, though i should have called it dinner to home. josiah wuz on the lookout, i could see, for tiffen to be passed, but it wuzn't, so he ort to give up, but wouldn't; but argyed with me out to one side that "they wuz out of tiffen, and hadn't time to buy any and couldn't borry." well, the governor-general seemed to be greatly taken with dorothy. a relation on his own side wuz the hostess, and miss meechim acted real relieved when it turned out that he had a wife who wuz visiting in england. i sot at the right hand of the governor-general and i wanted to talk to him on the opium question and try to git him to give up the trade, but concluded that i wouldn't tackle him at his own table. but i kep' up a stiddy thinkin'. that very mornin' i read in the daily paper that two missionaries had arrived there the day before, and on the same steamer three hundred chests of opium. poor creeters! didn't it seem mockin' the name of religion to help convert the natives and on the same steamer send three hundred chests of the drug to ondo their work and make idiots and fiends of 'em. it seemed to me some as if i should read in the jonesville "augur" or "gimlet" that our govermunt had sent out three or four fat lambs to help the starvin' poor and sent 'em in the care of thirty or forty tigers and wild cats. no doubt the lambs would git there, but they would be inside the wild cats and tigers. such wicked and foolish and inconsistent laws if made by women would make talk amongst the male sect, and i wouldn't blame 'em a mite; i should jine with 'em and say, "sure enough it is a proof that wimmen don't know enough to vote and hain't good enough; let 'em drop the political pole, retire into the background and study statesmanship and the bible, specially the golden rule." but to resoom. arvilly tried to turn the conversation on the "twin crimes" of america, but didn't come right out and canvass him, for which i wuz thankful. they all paid lots of attention to tommy, who had a great time, and i spoze carabi did too. we had fruits and vegetables at the table, all gathered from the governor-general's garden--fresh fruit and vegetables in february, good land! pickin' berries and pineapples while the jonesvillians' fruit wuz snowballs and icesuckles; jest think on't! well, robert strong thought we had better proceed on to canton the next day and we wuz all agreeable to it. after we all went back to the tarven and i had laid down a spell and rested, i went out with arvilly and tommy for a little walk, miss meechim, and dorothy, and robert strong havin' gone over to maceo, the old portuguese town on the mainland. they wanted to see the place where camoens wrote his great poem, "the lusiad," and where he writ them heart-breakin' poems to catarina. poor creeters! they had to be separated. king john sent him off from lisbon, wantin' the girl himself, so i spoze. catarina died soon of a broken heart, but camoens lived on for thirty years in the body, and is livin' now and will live on in the real life fer quite a spell. yes, his memory is jest as fresh now as it ever wuz in them streets he wandered in durin' his sad exile, while the solid stun his feet trod on has mouldered and gone to pieces, which shows how much more real the onseen is than the seen, and how much more indestructible. iron pillars and granite columns aginst which his weary head had leaned oft-times had all mouldered and decayed. but the onseen visions that camoens see with his rapt poet's eye wuz jest as fresh and deathless as when he first writ 'em down. and his memory hanted the old streets, and went before 'em and over 'em. how much more real than the tropical birds that wheeled and glittered in the luxuriant tropical foliage, though they couldn't lay hands on 'em and ketch 'em and bring a few to me, much as i would liked to have had 'em. but these bein' the real, as i say, they wuz also with me way over in hongkong. i thought a sight on him all the time they wuz gone, and afterwards i thought of the honor and dignity his noble verse had gin to his country, and how princely the income they had gin him after they let him return from his exile. twenty-one dollars a year! what a premium that wuz upon poesy; the muse must have felt giddy to think she wuz prized so high, and his native land repented of the generosity afterwards and stopped the twenty-one dollars a year. but then after his starved and strugglin' life wuz ended his country acted in the usual way, erected monuments in his honor, and struck off medals bearin' his liniment. the worth of one medal or one little ornament on the peak of one of his statutes might have comforted the broken heart and kep' alive the starved body and gin him some comfort. but that hain't the way of the world; the world has always considered it genteel and fashionable to starve its poets, and stun its prophets, with different kinds of stuns, but all on 'em hard ones; not that it has done so in every case, but it has always been the fashionable way. dorothy and robert talked quite a good deal about the sad poet and his works, their young hearts feelin' for his woe; mebby sunthin' in their own hearts translatin' the mournful history; you know plates have to be fixed jest right or the colors won't strike in. it is jest so in life. hearts must be ready to photograph the seens on, or they won't be took. some hearts and souls are blank plates and will always remain so. arvilly seemed lost in thought as they talked about the poet (she hain't so well versed in poetry as she is in the license laws and the disabilities of wimmen), and when she hearn robert strong say, "camoens will live forever," she sez dreamily: "i wonder if he'd want to subscribe for the 'twin crimes'?" and sez she, "i am sorry i didn't go over with you and canvass him." poor thing! she little knew he had got beyend canvassin' and all other cares and troubles of life two hundred years ago. but miss meechim wuz dretful worked up about the gambling going on at maceo, and she sez it is as bad as at monte carlo. (i didn't know who he wuz, but spozed that he wuz a real out and out gambler and blackleg). and sez she, "oh, how bad it makes me feel to see such wickedness carried on. how it makes my heart yearn for my own dear america!" miss meechim is good in some things; she is as loyal to her own country as a dog to a root, but arvilly sez: "i guess we americans hadn't better find too much fault with foreign natives about gambling, when we think of our stock exchanges, huge gamblin' houses where millions are gambled for daily; thousands of bushels of wheat put up there that never wuz growed only in the minds of the gamblers. why," sez arvilly, warmin' up with her subject, "we are a nation of gamblers from wall street, where gamblin' is done in the name of greed, down to meetin' houses, where bed-quilts and tidies are gambled for in the name of religion. from millionaires who play the game for fortunes down to poor backwoodsmen who raffle for turkeys and hens, and children who toss pennies for marbles." sez miss meechim, "i guess i will take a little quinine and lay down a spell." arvilly tosted her head quite a little after she retired and then she went out to canvass a clerk in the office. arvilly is dantless in carriage, but she is too hash. i feel bad about it. chapter xv arvilly and i went out for a walk, takin' tommy with us. we thought we would buy some sooveneers of the place. sez arvilly, "i want to prove to the jonesvillians that i've been to china, and i want to buy some little presents for waitstill webb, that i can send her in a letter." and i thought i would buy some little things for the children, mebby a ivory croshay hook for tirzah ann and a paper cutter for thomas j., and sunthin' else for maggie and whitfield. it beats all what exquisite ivory things we did see, and in silver, gold, shell, horn and bamboo, every article you can think on and lots you never did think on, all wrought in the finest carvin' and filigree work. embroideries in silk and satin and cloth of gold and silver, every beautiful thing that wuz ever made you'd see in these shops. i wuz jest hesitatin' between a ivory bodkin with a butterfly head and a ivory hook with a posy on the handle, when i hearn the voice of my pardner, seemin'ly makin' a trade with somebody, and i turned a little corner and there i see him stand tryin' to beat down a man from tibet, or so a bystander told me he wuz, a queer lookin' creeter, but he understood a few english words, and josiah wuz buyin' sunthin' as i could see, but looked dretful meachin and tried to conceal his purchase as he ketched my eye. i see he wuz doin' sunthin' he ort not to do, meachinness and guilt wuz writ down on his liniment. but my axent and mean wuz such that he produced the object and tried hard to explain and apologize. it wuz a little prayer-wheel designed for written prayers to be put in and turned with a crank, or it could be hitched to water power or a wind-mill or anything, and the owner could truly pray without ceasing. oh how i felt as he explained! i felt that indeed the last straw wuz bein' packed onto my back, but josiah kep' on with his apoligizin'. "you needn't look like that, samantha; i can tell you i hain't gin up religion or thought on't. i want you to know that i am still a strong, active member of the m. e. meetin' house, but at the same time," sez he, "if i--if there--spozein' there wuz, as it were, some modifications and conveniences that would help a christian perfessor along, i don't know as i would be to blame to avail myself of 'em." sez i, "if you're guiltless what makes you look so meachin?" "well, i most knew you wouldn't approve on it, but," sez he, "i can tell you in a few short words what it will do. you can write your prayers all out when you have time and put 'em into this wheel and turn it, or you can have it go by water, you can hitch it to the windmill and have it a-prayin' while you water the cattle in the mornin', and i thought, samantha, that in hayin' time or harvestin' when i am as busy as the old harry i could use it that way, or i could be a turnin' it on my way to the barn to do the chores, or i could hitch it onto the grin'stone and ury and i could pray for the whole family whilst we wuz whettin' the scythes." "not for me," sez i, groanin' aloud, "not for me." "you needn't look like that, samantha; i tell you agin i wuzn't goin' to use it only when i wuz driv to death with work. and i tell you it would be handy for you when you expected a houseful of company, and philury wuz away." "no, indeed!" sez i; "no such wicked, wicked work will be connected with my prayers." "well," sez arvilly, "i d'no as it would be much wickeder than some prayers i've hearn when folks wuz in a hurry; they would run their thanksgivin's into their petitions and them into their amens, and gallop through 'em so there wuzn't a mite of sense in 'em. or take so much pains to inform the lord about things. i hearn one man say," sez arvilly: "'o lord, thou knowest by the morning papers, so and so.' i d'no as a prayer turned off by a wheel would look much worse or be much less acceptable." josiah looked encouraged, and sez he to me, _soty vosey_, "arvilly always did have good horse sense." sez i, "they wuzn't run by machinery--wicked, wicked way. a boughten machine!" sez i, shettin' up my eyes and groanin' agin. "no," sez josiah eagerly, "i wuz agoin' to tell you; i've got a wheel to home and a cylinder that come offen that old furnace regulator that didn't work, and i thought that with a little of ury's help i could fix one up jest as good as this, and i could sell this for twice what i gin for it to deacon henzy or old shelmadine, or rent it through hayin' and harvestin' to the brethren, or----" sez i, "you would disseminate these wicked practices, would you, in dear christian jonesville? no, indeed." "i tell you agin i wuzn't a-goin' to use it only in the most hurryin' times--i----" but i sez, "i will hear no more; give it back to the man and come with your pardner!" and i linked my arm in hisen and motioned to the man to move off with his wheels. and my looks wuz that dignified and lofty that i spoze it skairt him and he started off almost immegiately and to once. and i hain't hern no more about it, but don't know how much more trouble i may have with it. no knowin' what that man may take it into his head to do in jonesville or china. but prayer-wheels! little did i think when i stood at the altar with josiah allen that i should have to dicker with them. it only took six hours to sail from hongkong up to canton. the scenery along the pearl river is not very interesting except the rice fields, banana groves with pagodas risin' amongst 'em anon or oftener, and the strange tropical foliage, cactuses that we raise in little jars riz up here like trees. the native villages along the ruther flat shore looked kinder dilapidated and run down, but yet they looked so different from jonesville houses that they wuz interestin' in a way. the forts that we passed occasionally looked as if they would stand quite a strain. but the queerest sight wuz the floatin' houses that we had to sail through to land. two hundred thousand folks live on them boats, are born on 'em, grow up, marry, raise a family and die, all right there on the water, just as other folks live on the land. if a young man courts a girl he takes her and her setting out, which is mebby a extra night gown, or i don't know what they do call 'em--their dresses look like night gowns. well, she will take that and a rice kettle and go into his junk and mebby never leave it through her life only to visit her friends. the children swarmed on them boats like ants on a ant-hill, and they say that if they git too thick they kinder let 'em fall overboard, not push 'em off, but kinder let 'em go accidental like, specially girls, they kinder encourage girls fallin' off. and the chinese think that it is wrong to save life. if any one is drownin', for instance, they think that it is the will of the higher power and let 'em go. but they look down on girls dretfully. if you ask a chinaman how many children he has got he will say "two children and two piecee girl." jest as if boys was only worthy to be called children, and girls a piece of a child. miss meechim wuz indignant when that way of theirs wuz mentioned; she considers herself as good if not better than one man and a half. sez she: "the idee of calling a boy a child, and a girl a piece of a child, or words that mean that." but arvilly sez, "well, how much better is it in the united states--or most of 'em? girls don't even have the comfort of thinkin' that they're a piece of a person; they're just nothin' at all in the eyes of the law--unless the law wants to tax 'em to raise money." sez she, "i would be thankful 'lection day if i wuz a piece of a woman, so that five or six of us would make a hull citizen." miss meechim had never thought on't before, she said she hadn't, but nobody could git her to say a word aginst american customs no more than they could aginst herself. she thinks that she and america are perfect, but puts herself first. well, america is the best land under the sun; i've always said so. but i feel towards it as i do towards josiah: what faults it has i want to talk it out of, so that it will stand up perfect among nations as josiah could amongst men if he would hear to me. arvilly likes to stir miss meechim up; i believe she sez things a purpose sometimes to set miss meechim off; but then arvilly talks from principle, too, and she is real cute. there wuz all sorts of boats, theatre junks and concert junks and plain junks, and josiah wuz dretful took with this floatin' city, and sez to once that he should build a house boat as soon as he got home--he and ury. he said that he could use the old hay-rack to start it--that and the old corn-house would most make it. "where will you put it?" sez i. "oh, on the creek or the canal," sez he. "it will be so uneek for us to dwell when we want to, on the briny deep." "i guess there hain't much brine in the creek or the canal," josiah. "well, i said that for poetical purposes. but you know that it would be very stylish to live in a boat, and any time we wanted to, when onexpected company wuz comin', or the tax collector or book agent, jest hist the sail and move off, it would be dretful handy as well as stylish." "well, well," sez i, "you can't build it till you git home." i felt that he would forgit it before then. arvilly looked thoughtfully at 'em and wondered how she wuz goin' to canvass 'em, and if they would do as josiah intimated if they see her comin'. miss meechim wondered if they could git to meetin' in time, they seemed to move so slow, and robert strong said to dorothy: "well, a poor man can feel that he owns the site his home stands on, as well as the rich man can, and that would be a hopeless attempt for him in our large american cities, and he can't be turned out of his home by some one who claims the land." and tommy wondered how the little boys could play ball, and if they didn't want to slide down hill, or climb trees, or pick berries, and so on and so on. and every one on us see what wuz for us to see in the movin' panoramy. canton is a real queer city. the streets are so narrer that you can almost reach out your hands and touch the houses on both sides, they are not more than seven or eight feet wide. there are no horses in canton, and you have to git about on "shanks's horses," as josiah calls it, your own limbs you know, or else sedan chairs, and the streets are so narrer, some on 'em, that once when we met some big chinese man, a mandarin i believe they called him, we had to hurry into one of the shops till he got by, and sometimes in turnin' a corner the poles of our chairs had to be run way inside of the shops, and josiah said: "i would like to see how long the jonesvillians would stand such doin's; i would like to see old gowdey's fills scrapin' my cook stove, it is shiftless doin's, and ort to be stopped." but i knew he couldn't make no change and i hushed him up as well as i could. robert strong got quite a comfortable tarven for us to stay in. but i wuz so afraid all the time of eatin' rats and mice that i couldn't take any comfort in meat vittles. they do eat rats there, for i see 'em hangin' in the markets with their long tails curled up, ready to bile or fry. josiah said he wished he had thought on't, he would brung out a lot to sell, and he wuz all rousted up to try to make a bargain to supply one of these shops with rats and mice. sez he: "it will be clear profit, samantha, for i want to get rid on 'em, and all the jonesvillians do, and if i can sell their carcasses i will throw in the hide and taller. why, i can make a corner on rats and mice in jonesville; i can git 'em by the wagon load of the farmers and git pay at both ends." but i told him that the freightage would eat up the profits, and he see it would, and gin up the idee onwillin'ly. though i don't love such hot stuff as we had to eat, curry, and red peppers, and chutney, not to home i don't, but i see it wuz better to eat such food there on account of the climate. some of our party had to take quinine, too, for the stomach's sake to keep up, for you feel there like faintin' right away, the climate is such. it must be that the chinese like amusements, for we see sights of theatres and concert rooms and lanterns wuz hangin' everywhere and bells. and there wuz streets all full of silk shops, and weavers, and jewelry, and cook shops right open on either side. all the colors of the rainbow and more too you see in the silks and embroideries, and jewelry of all kinds and swingin' signs and mat awnings overhead, and the narrer streets full of strange lookin' folks, in their strange lookin' dresses. we visited a joss house, and a chinaman's paradise where opium eaters and smokers lay in bunks lookin' as silly and happy as if they wouldn't ever wake up agin to their tawdy wretchedness. we visited a silk manufactory, a glass blowing shop. we see a white marble pagoda with several tiers of gilded bells hangin' on the outside. inside it wuz beautifully ornamented, some of the winders wuz made of the inside of oyster shells; they made a soft, pleasant light, and it had a number of idols made of carved ivory and some of jade stun, and the principal idol wuz a large gilded dragon. josiah said the idee of worshippin' such a looking creeter as that. sez he, "i should ruther worship our old gander." and miss meechim wuz horrified, too, at the wickedness of the chinese in worshippin' idols. but arvilly walked around it with her head up, and said that america worshipped an idol that looked enough sight worse than that and a million times worse actin'. sez she, "this idol will stay where it is put, it won't rare around and murder its worshippers." and miss meechim sez coldly, "i don't know what you mean; i know that i am an episcopalian and worship as our beautiful creed dictates." sez arvilly, "anybody that sets expediency before principle, from a king to a ragpicker; any one who cringes to a power he knows is vile and dangerous, and protects and extends its influence from greed and ambition, such a one worships a far worse idol than this peaceable, humbly-lookin' critter and looks worse to me enough sight." i hearn miss meechim say out to one side to dorothy, "how sick i am of hearing her constant talk against intemperance; from california to china i have had to hear it. and you know, dorothy, that folks can drink genteel." but dorothy, with her sweet lips trembling and her white dimpled chin quivering, sez, "i should think we had suffered enough from the whiskey power, auntie, to hear anything said against it, and at any time." and robert strong jined in with dorothy, and so miss meechim subsided, and i see a dark shadder creep over her face, too, and tears come into her pale blue eyes. she hain't forgot aronette, poor little victim! crunched and crushed under the wheels of the monster juggernaut america rolls round to crush its people under. i wuz some like arvilly. when i thought of that i didn't feel to say so much aginst them foreign idols, though they wuz humbly lookin' as i ever see. and speakin' of idols, one day we see twelve fat hogs in a temple, where they wuz kept as sacred animals, and here agin miss meechim wuz horrified and praised up american doin's, and run down china, and agin arvilly made remarks. sez she: "the hogs there wallowing in their filth are poor lookin' things to kneel down and worship, but they're shut up here with priests to tend to 'em; they can't git out to roam round and entice innocents into their filthy sties and perpetuate their swinish lives, and that is more than we can say of the american beastly idols, or our priesthood who fatten them and themselves and then let 'em out to rampage round and act." miss meechim sithed deep and remarked to me "that the tariff laws wuz a absorbin' topic to her mind at that time." she did it to change the subject. we went to a chinese crematory and the temple of longevity, where if you paid enough you could git a promise of long life. josiah is clost, but he gin quite a good deal for him, and wuz told that he would live to be one hundred and twenty-seven years of age. he felt well. of course we had a interpreter with is who talked for us. josiah wanted me to pay, too, for a promise. sez he with a worried look: "i shall be wretched as a widower, samantha; do patronize 'em, i had ruther save on sunthin' else than this." so to please him i gin 'em a little more than he did, and they guaranteed me one hundred and forty years, and then josiah worried agin and wanted me to promise not to marry agin after he wuz gone. he worships me. and i told him that if i lived to be a hundred and forty i guessed i shouldn't be thinkin' much about marryin', and he looked easier in his mind. one day we met a weddin' procession, most a mild long, i should say. the bride wuz ahead in her sedan chair, her dress wuz richly embroidered and spangled, a veil fringed with little pearls hung over her face. pagodas with tinkling gilt bells, sedan chairs full of silk and cloth and goods of all kinds wuz carried in the procession by coolies. idols covered with jade and gilt jewelry, a company of little children beatin' tom-toms and gongs, and the stuffed bodies of animals all ornamented with gilt and red paper riggers wuz carried, and at the tail end of the procession come the friends of the family. the bridegroom wuzn't there, he wuz waitin' to hum in his own or his father's house for the bride he'd never seen. but if the bride's feet wuz not too large he would most likely be suited. miss meechim said, "poor young man! to have to take a wife he has never seen; how widely different and how immeasurably better are such things carried on in america." sez arvilly, "what bridegroom ever did see his bride as she really wuz? till the hard experience of married life brought out her hidden traits, good and bad? or what wife ever see her husband's real temper and character until after years of experience?" sez i, "that's so; leaves are turned over in josiah allen's mind now as long as we've been pardners that has readin' on 'em as strange to me as if they wuz writ in chinese or japan." but then it must be admitted that not to see your wife's face and know whether she's cross-eyed or snub-nosed is tryin'. but they say it is accordin' to the decree of feng shui, and therefore they accept it willingly. they have a great variety of good fruit in canton--some that i never see before--but their vegetables don't taste so good as ours, more stringy and watery, and their eggs they want buried six months before usin' 'em. i believe that sickened me of china as much as anything. but then some folks at home want their game kep' till it hain't fit to eat in my opinion. but eggs! they should be like cæsar's wife, above suspicion--the idee of eatin' 'em with their shells all blue and spotted with age--the idee! chapter xvi we wuz all invited one day to dine with a rich chinaman robert strong had got acquainted with in san francisco. arvilly didn't want to go, and offered to keep tommy with her, and the rest of us went. the house wuz surrounded with a high wall, and we entered through a small door in this wall, and went into a large hall openin' on a courtyard. the host met us and we set down on a raised seat covered with red cloth under some big, handsome lanterns that wuz hung over our heads. servants with their hair braided down their backs and with gay dresses on brought in tea--as good as any i ever drank--and pipes. josiah whispered to me: "how be i agoin' to smoke tobacco, samantha? it will make me sick as death. you know i never smoked anything but a little catnip and mullen for tizik. i wonder if he's got any catnip by him; i'm goin' to ask." but i kep' him from it, and told him that we could just put the stems in our mouths, and pretend to smoke enough to be polite. "hypocrasy," sez josiah, "don't become a deacon in high standin'. if i pretend to smoke i shall smoke, and take a good pull." and he leaned back and shut his eyes and took his pipe in his hand, and i guess he drawed on it more than he meant to, for he looked bad, sickish and white round his mouth as anything. but we all walked out into the garden pretty soon and he looked resuscitated. it was beautiful there; rare flowers and exotics of all kinds, trees that i never see before and lots that i had seen, sparklin' fountains with gold fish, grottos all lit up by colored lanterns, and little marble tablets with wise sayings. josiah said he believed they wuz ducks' tracks, and wondered how ducks ever got up there to make 'em, but the interpreter read some on 'em to us and they sounded first rate. way up on a artificial rock, higher than the jonesville steeple, wuz a beautiful pavilion with gorgeous lanterns in it and beautiful bronzes and china. in the garden wuz growin' trees, trimmed all sorts of shapes, some on 'em wuz shaped like bird cages and birds wuz singin' inside of 'em. there wuz one like a jinrikisha with a horse attached, all growin', and one like a boat, and two or three wuz pagodas with gilt bells hangin' to 'em, another wuz shaped like a dragon, and some like fish and great birds. it wuz a sight to see 'em, all on 'em a growin', and some on 'em hundreds of years old. josiah says to me: "if i ever live to git home i will surprise jonesville. i will have our maple and apple trees trimmed in this way if i live. how uneek it will be to see the old snow apple tree turned into a lumber wagon, and the pound sweet into a corn house, and the maples in front of the house you might have a couple on 'em turned into a goddess of liberty and a statter of justice, you are such a hand for them two females," sez he. "of course we should have to use cloth for justice's eye bandages, and her steelyards i believe ury and i could trim out, though they might not weigh jest right to the notch." and i sez, "justice has been used to that, to not weighin' things right, it wouldn't surprise her." but i told him it would be sights of work and mebby he'll give it up. soon afterwards we wuz all invited to dinner in this same house. and so ignorant are the chinese of jonesville ways that at a dinner the place of honor is at the left instead of the right of the host. everything that can be in china is topsy tervy and different from us. i wuz chose for that honorable place at the left of our host. we all stood for quite a while, for it is china table etiquette to try to make the guest next to us set down first, but finally we all sot down similtaneous and at the same time. josiah thinks that it is because china is right down under us the reason that she gits so turned over and strange actin', but 'tennyrate, endin' our dinner as we do with sweets, it didn't surprise me that we begun our dinner by havin' sweetmeats passed, each one helpin' ourselves with chop sticks, queer things to handle as i ever see, some like the little sticks i have seen niggers play tunes with. josiah seemed to enjoy hisen the best that ever wuz, and to my horrow he took both on 'ern in his right hand and begun to play yankee doodle on 'em. i stepped on his foot hard under the table, and he broke off with a low groan, but i spoze they would lay it to a foreigner's strange ways. after the sweetmeats wuz partook of we had dried melon seeds, the host handin' 'em round by the handful. josiah slipped his into his pocket. i wuz mortified enough, but he said: "of course he wants us to plant 'em; nobody but a fool would expect us to eat melon seeds or horse feed." i wuz glad josiah didn't speak in china, i guess they didn't understand him. a rice-wine wuz passed with this, which of course i did not partake of. much as i wanted to be polite i could not let this chance pass of holdin' up my temperance banner. i had seen enough trouble caused by folks in high station not holdin' up temperance principles at banquets, and i wuzn't to be ketched in the same way, so i waived it off with a noble and lofty jester, but miss meechim drinked wine every time it wuz passed, and she got real tonguey before we went home, and her eyes looked real kinder glassy--glassier than a perfessor's eyes ort to look. then we had bird's-nest soup, which is one of the most costly luxuries to be had in canton. they are found on precipitous rocks overhanging the sea, and one must risk his life to get them. it didn't taste any better to me than a chip. it seemed to be cut in little square yeller pieces, kind of clear lookin', some like preserved citron only it wuz lighter colored, and josiah whispered to me: "we can have bird's-nest soup any day to hum, samantha. jest think of the swaller's nest in the barn and robin's nest and crow's nest, why one crow's nest would last us a week." "it would last a lifetime, josiah, if i had to cook it; sticks and straw." "well, it would be real uneek to cook one, or a hornet's nest, and would be a rarity for the jonesvillians, and in the winter, if we run out of bird's-nest, you could cook a hen's nest." but i sez, "keep still, josiah, and let's see what we'll have next." well, we had ham, fish, pigeon's eggs and some things i didn't know the name of. the host took up a little mess of sunthin' on his chop stick and handed it to me. i dassent refuse it, for he meant it as a honor, but i most know it wuz rat meat, but couldn't tell for certain. i put my shoulder blades to the wheel and swallered it, but it went down hard. bowls of rice wuz passed round last. between the courses we had the best tea i ever tasted of; only a few of the first leaves that open on the tea plant are used for this kind of tea, and a big field would be gone over for a pound of it. after it is cured it is flavored with the tea blossom. i had spozed i had made good tea to home on my own hot water tank, and drinked it, but i gin up that i had never tasted tea before. on our way home we went through the street of benevolence and i wuz ashamed to run miss meechim in my mind. they name their streets real funny; one street is called everlasting love, or it means that in our language, and there is refreshing breezes, reposing dragons, honest gain, thousand grandsons, heavenly happiness, and etc., etc. josiah said that he should see uncle sime bentley and deacon henzy about naming over the jonesville streets the minute he got home. sez he, "how uneek it will be to trot along through josiah's never ending success, or prosperous interesting josiah, or the glorious pathmaster, or the divine travellin' deacon, or sunthin' else uneek and well meanin'." sez i, "you seem to want to name 'em all after yourself, josiah. uncle sime and deacon henzy would probable want one or two named after them." "well," sez he, "we could name one little uncle, and one spindlin' deacon, if they insisted on't." josiah wuz in real good sperits, i laid it partly to the tea, it wuz real stimulating; josiah said that it beat all that the chinese wuz so blinded and out of the way as to do things so different from what they did in jonesville. "but," sez he, "they're politer on the outside than the jonesvillians, even down to the coolers." sez i, "do you mean the coolies?" "yes, the coolers, the hired help, you know," sez he. "catch ury fixin' his eye on his left side coat collar when he speaks to me not dastin' to lift it, and bowin' and scrapin' when i told him to go and hitch up, or bring in a pail of water, and catch him windin' his hair in a wod when he wuz out by himself and then lettin' it down his back when he came to wait on me." sez i, "ury's hair is too short to braid." "well, you can spozen the case, can't you? but as i wuz sayin', for all these coolers are so polite, i would trust ury as fur agin as i would any on 'em. and then they write jest the other way from we do in jonesville, begin their letters on the hind side and write towards 'em; and so with planin' a board, draw the plane towards 'em. i would like to see ury try that on any of my lumber. and because we jonesvillians wear black to funerals, they have to dress in white. plow would i looked at my mother-in-law's funeral with a white night gown on and my hair braided down my back with a white ribbin on it? it would have took away all the happiness of the occasion to me. "and then their language, samantha, it is fixed in such a fool way that when they want a word different, they yell up the same word louder and that makes it different, as if i wuz to say to ury kinder low and confidential, 'i shall be the next president, ury;' and then i should yell up the same words a little louder and that would mean, 'feed the brindle steer;' there hain't no sense in it. but i spoze one thing that ails them is their havin' to stand bottom side up, their feet towards jonesville. their blood runs the wrong way. mebby i shouldn't do any better than they do if i stood so the hull of the time; mebby i should let my finger nails grow out like bird's claws and shake my own hands when i meet company instead of theirn. though," sez josiah, dreamily, "i don't know but i shall try that in jonesville; i may on my return from my travels walk up to elder minkley and the bretheren in the meetin'-house, and pass the compliments with 'em and clasp my own hands and shake 'em quite a spell, not touchin' their hands. i may, but can't tell for certain; it would be real uneek to do it." "well," sez i, "josiah, every country has its own strange ways; we have ourn." sez he, "how you would scold me if i wuz to wear my hat when we had company, and here it is manners to do it, and take off your specs. why should i take off my specs to meet elder minkley?" "well," sez i, "there hain't anything out of the way in it, if they want to." sez josiah, "you seem to take to china ways so, you and arvilly, that i spoze mebby you'll begin to bandage your feet when you git home, and toddle round on your big toes." and i sez, "i d'no but i'd jest as soon do that as to girt myself down with cossets, or walk round with a trailin' dress wipin' up all the filth of the streets to carry home to make my family sick." but it is a awful sight. i had the chance right there in canton to see a foot all bound up to make it the fashionable size. the four small toes wuz twisted right under the ankle, and the broken, crushed bones of the foot pressed right up where the instep should be. the pain must have been sunthin' terrible, and very often a toe drops off, but i spoze they are glad of that, for it would make the little lump of dead flesh they call their feet smaller. they wear bright satin shoes, all embroidered and painted, and their little pantelettes cover all but the very end of the toe. they all, men and wimmen, wear a loose pair of trowsers which they call the foo, and a kind of jacket which they call a sham. "a fool and a sham," josiah called 'em all the time. the wimmen have their hair all stuck up with some kind of gum, making it as good as a bunnet, but i would fur ruther have the bunnet. sometimes they wear a handkerchief over it. wimmen hain't shut up here as they are in turkey, but no attention is paid to their education and they are looked down on. men seem to be willin' to have wimmen enjoy what religion they can, such as they have. but her husband won't let her set to the table with him, and he can whip her to death and not be touched for it, but if she strikes back a single blow he can get a divorce from her. i thought wimmen wuz worse off here than they wuz in america, but arvilly argyed that our govermunt sold stuff and took pay for it that made men beat their wives, and sold the right to make wicked wimmen and keep 'em so, and took wimmen's tax money to keep up such laws. and she went over such a lot of unjust laws that i didn't know but she wuz right, and that we wuz jest about as bad off in some things. they marry dretful young in china. little babies are engaged to be married right whilst they're teethin', but they can't marry i guess till they are ten or twelve years old. from canton we went back to hongkong, intendin' to go from there to calcutta. but dorothy felt that she must see japan while she wuz so near, and we concluded to go, though it wuz goin' right out of our way in the opposite direction from jonesville. but when dorothy expressed a wish robert strong seemed to think it wuz jest as bindin' on him as the law of the medes and persians, whatever they may be, and miss meechim felt so too, so though as i say it wuz some as though i should go to she that wuz submit tewksberrys round by the widder slimpsey's and brother henzy's. we found some mail here to the tarven, letters from the dear children and our help. thomas j. and maggie wuz gittin' better, and the rest well, and all follerin' our journey with fond hearts and good wishes. philury and ury writ that everything was goin' well on the farm and the jonesvillians enjoyin' good health. arvilly got a paper from jonesville and come in to read it to us. it had been a long time on the road. it said that a new bill was a-goin' to be introduced to allow wimmen to vote, but she didn't seem to be encouraged about it much. sez she: "the law won't do anything about that as long as it is so busy grantin' licenses to kill folks via saloon and other houses of death and ruin and canals and trusts and monopolies to protect to steal the people's money." but i sez, "i do hope the bill will pass for the sake of justice, if nothin' else. justice," sez i, "must have been so shamed to see such things goin' on that she wuz glad she wore bandages over her eyes; and her hands have shook so she hain't weighed even for some time; to see her sect taxed without representation, punished and hung by laws she has no voice in makin'." josiah sez, "i admit that that is ruther hard, samantha, but that hain't the nick on't. the pint is that wimmen hain't got the self-control that men has. the govermunt is afraid of her emotional nater; she gits wrought up too quick. she is good as gold, almost a angel, in fact, as we male voters have always said. but she is too hasty; she hain't got the perfect calmness, the firm onmovable sense of right and wrong, the patience and long sufferin' that we men have; she flies off too sudden one way or t'other; govermunt well fears she would be a dangerous element in the body politick." jest as josiah finished this remark arvilly read out a thrillin' editorial about the war between russia and japan; the editor commented on the wickedness of men plungin' two great empires into warfare, slaughterin' thousands and thousands of men, bringin' ontold wretchedness, distress, pestilence and destitution just to gratify ambition or angry passion. for it wuz this, he said, in the first place, whatever it became afterward. a war of defence, of course, argued an aggressor, and he talked eloquent about courts of arbitration which would do away with the wholesale butchery and horror of war. and he called eloquent on peace to fly down on her white wings bearing the olive branch, to come and stop this unutterable woe and crime of war. (arvilly left off readin' to remind josiah that peace wuz always depictered as a female, and then resoomed her readin'.) in conclusion, the editor lamented the fact that in the annals of our nation men so often forgot the golden rule and gin vent to voylent passions and onbecomin' behavior. sez josiah, "i guess i will take tommy and go out for a little walk, samantha, i feel kinder mauger." "i should think you would!" sez arvilly, lookin' hull reams of by-laws and statutes at him. and i sez, "whilst you're walkin', dear josiah, you might meditate on the danger to the govermunt from wimmen's emotional nature, and the patience and long sufferin' of men voters." i said it real tender and good, but he snapped me up real snappish. sez he, "i shall meditate on what i'm a minter. come, tommy," and they went out. chapter xvii and the next day we started for yokohama. i had felt kinder dubersome about goin' through countries that wuz plunged in a great war, but we got along all right, nobody shot at us or made any move to, and we didn't see anybody hurt. but knowed that the warfare wuz ragin' away somewhere out of our sight. death wuz marchin' along on his pale horse in front of the army, and hearts wuz breakin' and the light of the sun and of life darkened in thousands and thousands of grand and humble homes. i felt dretful when i thought on't, but hain't goin' to harrow up the reader's feelin's talkin' about it, knowin' it won't do any good, and anyway they've all read the particulars in the daily papers. well, we reached yokohama with no fatal casualties to report, though my pardner wuz real seasick, but brightened up as we drew nigh to shore. here and there a little village with quaint houses could be seen, and anon a temple or shrine riz up above the beautiful tropical foliage and further off the fujiyama, the sacred mountain, riz up above the other mountains. we come into the harbor about half-past three and arrove at our tarven about five. when we drew nigh the shore almost naked boatmen come out to meet us in their sampans, as they call their little boats (josiah called 'em "sass pans" right to their face, but i don't spoze they understood it). they wuz to take us into the shore and they wuz yellin' to each other fearful as they pushed their boats ahead. their toilettes consisted mostly of figgers pricked into their skins, dragons and snakes seemed their favorite skin ornaments, the color wuz blue mostly with some red. josiah sez to me as we looked down on 'em from the dock: "them coolers wouldn't have to carry a saratoga trunk with 'em when they travel; a bottle of ink and a pin would last 'em through life." it wuz a real hot day, and josiah continered, "well, their clothin' is comfortable anyway, that's why they are called coolers, because they're dressed so cool," and, sez he, "what a excitement i could make in jonesville next summer in dog-days by introducin' this fashion." i looked on him in horrow, and he added hastily, "oh, i should wear a short tunic, samantha, comin' down most to my knees, with tossels on it, and i shouldn't wear snakes or dragons on my skin, i should wear some texts of scripter, or appropriate quotations, as josiah the fair, or josiah the pride of jonesville, runnin' down my legs and arms, and i shouldn't have 'em pricked in, i could have 'em painted in gay colors." "oh, heavens!" sez i, lookin' up to the sky, "what won't i hear next from this man!" "i hadn't said i should do it, samantha; and 'tennyrate it would be only through dog-days. i said what a excitement it would make if i concluded to do it." sez i, "it is a excitement that would land you in jonesville jail, and ort to." but at that minute arvilly and miss meechim come up to us and broke off the conversation. japan boatmen jest wear a cloth round their loins, and some of 'em had a little square of matting fastened by a rope round their necks to keep the rain offen their backs. after goin' through the custom house, where we got off easy, we went to a tarven called the grand hotel and had a good night's rest. chapter xviii the next mornin', after tiffen, which wuz what they call breakfast, bein' just so ignorant of good jonesville language, josiah and i and tommy sallied out to see what we could see, the rest of our party havin' gone out before. wantin' to go a considerable ways, we hired two jinrikishas, and i took tommy in my lap, and i must say that i felt considerable like a baby in a baby carriage carryin' a doll; but i got over it and felt like a grandma before i had gone fur. how josiah felt i don't know, though i hearn him disputin' with the man about his prices--we had took a interpreter with us so we could know what wuz said to us. the price for a jinrikisha is five sen, and josiah thought it meant five cents of our money, and so handed it to him. but the man wuz so ignorant he didn't know anything about jonesville money, and he kep' a-callin' for sen, and the interpreter sez "sen," holdin' up his five fingers and speakin' it up loud, and i hearn josiah say: "well, you fool, you, i have given you five cents! what more do you want?" but at last he wuz made to understand; but when josiah made him know where he wanted to go the interpreter said that the sedan carriers wanted a yen, and my poor pardner had another struggle. sez he: "you consarned fool, how do you spoze i can give you a hen? do you spoze i can git into my hen house ten thousand milds off to git you a hen? or do you want me to steal one for you?" "a yen," sez the interpreter, and the way he said it it did sound like hen. "well, i said hen, didn't i?" said my pardner. but i leaned out of my baby cart and sez, "y-e-n, josiah. a yen is their money, a dollar." "oh, why don't they call it a cow or a brindle calf?" he wuz all het up by his efforts to understand. they call one of their dollars a yen, a sen is a cent, and a rin is the tenth part of a cent. josiah fell in love with the copper rins with square holes in the centre. sez he: "how i would love to furnish you with 'em, samantha, when you went to the store in jonesville. i would hand you out five or six rins and you could string 'em and wear 'em round your neck till you got to the store." "yes," sez i, "half a cent would go a good ways in buyin' family stores." "well, it would have a rich look, samantha, and i mean to make some when i git home. why, ury and i could make hundreds of 'em out of our old copper kettle that has got a hole in it, and i shouldn't wonder if i could pass 'em." miss meechim had a idee that the japans wuz in a state of barbarism, but arvilly who wuz always at swords' pints with her threw such a lot of statistics at her that it fairly danted her. there are six hundred newspapers in japan. the japanese daily at tokio has a circulation of , . she has over , milds of railroads and uses the american system of checking baggage. large factories with the best machinery has been built late years, but a great part of the manufacturing is done by the people in their own homes, where they turn out those exquisite fabrics of silk and cotton and rugs of all the colors of the rainbow, and seemingly as fadeless as that bow. slavery is unknown, and there is very little poverty with all the crowded population. the japans are our nearest neighbors acrost the pacific and we've been pretty neighborly with 'em, havin' bought from 'em within the last ten years most three hundred millions worth of goods. she would miss us if anything should happen to us. yokohama is a city of , inhabitants, most all japans, though in what they call the settlement there are fifteen or twenty thousand foreigners. there are beautiful homes here with flower gardens containing the rarest and most beautiful flowers, trees and shrubs of all kinds. the day josiah had his struggle with the interpreter and japan money we rode down the principal streets of yokohama. and i would stop at some of the silk shops, though josiah objected and leaned out of his jinrikisha and sez anxiously: "don't spend more'n half a dozen rins, samantha, on dress, for you know we've got more than , milds to travel and the tarven bills are high." sez i in real dry axents, "if i conclude to buy a dress i shall have to have as much as a dozen rins; i don't believe that i could git a handsome and durable one for less." my tone was sarcastical. the idee of buyin' a silk dress for half a cent! but i didn't lay out to buy; i wuz jest lookin' round. i saw in those shops some of the most beautiful silks and embroideries that i ever did see, and i went into a lacquer shop where there wuz the most elegant furniture and rich bronzes inlaid with gold and silver. they make the finest bronzes in the world; a little pair of vases wuz fifteen hundred dollars and you couldn't get 'em for less. but why shouldn't there be beautiful things in a country where every one is a artist? we stopped at a tea house and had a cup of tea, delicious as i never spozed tea could be and served by pretty young girls with gay colored, loose silk suits and hair elaborately dressed up with chains and ornaments; their feet and legs wuz bare, but they wuz covered with ornaments of brass and jade. afterwards we passed fields of rice where men and wimmen wuz working, the men enrobed in their skin toilette of dragons and other figures and loin cloth and the wimmen in little scanty skirts comin' from the waist to the knees. their wages are eight cents a day. i wondered what some of our haughty kitchen rulers, who demand a dollar a day and the richest of viands would say if they wuz put down on a basis of eight cents a day and water and rice diet. the little bamboo cottages are lovely lookin' from the outside with their thatched roofs, some on 'em with little bushes growin' out on the thatch and little bunches of grass growin' out under the eaves. the children of the poor are entirely naked and don't have a rag on 'em until they're ten or twelve. a lot of 'em come up to the jinrikishas and called out "oh-hi-o" to josiah, and he shook his head and sez affably: "no, bub, i'm from jonesville." but the interpreter explained oh-hi-o means good mornin'; and after that for days josiah would say to me as soon as i waked up, "ohio," and wanted to say it to the rest, but i broke it up. one thing josiah thought wuz wicked: a japanese is not allowed to wear whiskers till he is a grandpa, so old bachelors have to go with smooth faces. sez josiah, "what if cousin zebedee allen couldn't wear whiskers? why," sez he, "his whiskers are his main beauty, and naterally zeb is more particular about his looks than if he wuz married. such laws are wicked and arbitrary. why, when i courted my first wife, samantha, my whiskers and my dressy looks wuz what won the day. and i d'no," sez he inquiringly, "but they won your heart." "no," sez i, "it wuzn't them, and heaven only knows what it wuz; i never could tell. i've wondered about it a sight." "well," sez he, "i didn't know but it wuz my whiskers." we passed a number of temples where the people worship. the two principal religions are the shinto and the buddhist. the shinto means, "the way of the gods," and they believe that their representative is the mikado, so of course they lay out to worship him. the buddhists preach renunciation, morality, duty, and right living. bein' such a case to cling to duty's apron strings i couldn't feel towards the buddhists as miss meechim did. sez she, "oh, why can't they believe as we do in america? why can't they all be episcopalians?" but 'tennyrate all religions are tolerated here, and as arvilly told miss meechim when she wuz bewailin' the fact that they wuzn't all episcopals and wuzn't more like our country. sez arvilly, "they don't drownd what they call witches, nor hang quakers, nor whip baptists, nor have twenty wives. it don't do for us to find too much fault with the religion of other nations, miss meechim, specially them that teaches the highest morality, self-control and self-sacrifice." miss meechim was huffy, but arvilly drove the arrer home. "gamblin' is prohibted here; you wouldn't be allowed gamble for bed-quilts and afghans at church socials, miss meechim." miss meechim wouldn't say a word. i see she wuz awful huffy. but howsumever there are lots of people here who believe in the christian religion. we passed such cunning little farms; two acres is called a good farm, and everything seemed to be growin' on it in little squares, kep' neat and clean, little squares of rice and wheat and vegetables. and josiah sez, "i wonder what ury would say if i should set him to transplantin' a hull field of wheat, spear by spear, as they do here, set 'em out in rows as we do onions. and i guess he'd kick if i should hitch him onto the plow to plow up a medder, or onto the mower or reaper. i guess i'd git enough of it. i guess he'd give me my come-up-ance." "not if he wuz so polite as the japans," sez i. "and what a excitement it would make in jonesville," sez josiah, "if i should hitch ury and philury onto the mowin' machine. i might," he continered dreamily, "just for a change, drive 'em into jonesville once on the lumber wagon." but he'll forgit it, i guess, and japan will forgit it too before long. their tools are poor and fur behind ourn, and some of their ways are queer; such as trainin' their fruit trees over arbors as we do vines. josiah wuz dretful took with this and vowed he'd train our old sick no further over a arbor. sez he, "if i can train that old tree into a runnin' vine i shall be the rage in jonesville." but he can't do it. the branches are as thick as his arm. and i sez, "children and trees have to be tackled young, josiah, to bend their wills the way you want 'em to go." they make a great fuss here over the chrysantheum, and they are beautiful, i must admit. they don't look much like mine that i have growin' in a kag in the east winder. their common fruits are the persimmons, a sweet fruit about as big as a tomato and lookin' some like it, with flat black seeds, pears, good figs, oranges, peaches, apples. there is very little poverty, and the poorest people are very clean and neat. their law courts don't dally for month after month and years. if a man murders they hang him the same week. but mebby our ways of lingerin' along would be better in some cases, if new evidence should be found within a year or so, or children should grow up into witnesses. we went into a japanese house one day. it is made on a bamboo frame, the roof and sides wuz thatched with rye straw, the winders wuz slidin' frames divided into little squares covered with thin white paper. the partitions wuz covered with paper, and movable, so you could if you wanted to make your house into one large room. josiah told me that he should tear out every partition in our house and fix 'em like this. "how handy it would be, samantha, if i ever wanted to preach." and i told him that i guessed our settin' room would hold all that would come to hear him preach, and sez i, "how would paper walls do with the thermometer forty below zero?" he looked frustrated, he had never thought of that. the house we went into wuz sixteen feet square, divided into four square rooms. it wuz two stories high, and little porches about two feet wide wuz on each story, front and back. there wuz no chimney; there wuz a open place in the wall of the kitchen to let the smoke out from the little charcoal furnace they used to cook with, and one kettle wuz used to cook rice and fish; no spoons or forks are needed. the doors and frame-work wuz painted bronze color. there wuzn't much furniture besides the furnace and tea-kettle that stands handy to make tea at any time. a few cups and saucers, a small clock, a family idol, and a red cushioned platform they could move, high and wide enough for a seat so several can set back to back, is about all that is necessary. their floors are covered with a lined straw matting, soft as carpet; they sleep on cotton mats put away in the daytime; their head-rest is a small block of wood about one foot long, five inches wide and eight inches high. a pillow filled with cut rye straw and covered with several sheets of rice paper isn't so bad, though i should prefer my good goose feather pillows. the japanese are exceedingly neat and clean; they could teach needed lessons to the poorer classes in america. we one day made an excursion twenty milds on the tokiado, the great highway of japan. it is broad and smooth; five hundred miles long, and follers the coast. part of the way we went with horses, and little side trips into the country wuz made with jinrikishas. quaint little villages wuz on each side of the road, and many shrines on the waysides. that day we see the famous temple of diabutsu with its colossal bronze idol. it wuz fifty feet high and eighty-seven feet round. the eyes three feet and a half wide. one thumb is three and a half feet round. he seemed to be settin' on his feet. a widder and a priest wuz kneelin' in front of this idol. the priest held in one hand a rope and anon he would jerk out melancholy sounds from a big bronze bell over his head. in his other hand he held some little pieces of wood and paper with prayers printed on 'em. as he would read 'em off he would lay one down on the floor, and the widder would give him some money every time. i thought that wuz jest about where the prayers went, down on the floor; they never riz higher, i don't believe. josiah wuz kinder took with 'em, and sez he, "how handy that would be, samantha, if a man wuz diffident, and every man, no matter how bashful he is, has more or less wood chips in his back yard. sometimes i feel diffident, samantha." but i sez, "i don't want any wooden prayers offered for me, josiah allen, and," sez i, "that seen shows jest how widders are imposed upon." "well," sez he, "she no need to dickered with the priest for 'em if she hadn't wanted to." and i did wish that that little widder had known about the one ever present, ever living god, who has promised to comfort the widder, be a father to the orphan, and wipe away all tears. but the sunrise land is waking up, there is a bright light in the east: in the beauty of the lilies christ is born acrost the sea, with a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me. with the sweet gentleness and amiable nater of the japans what will not the divine religion of the lord jesus do for them? it will be plantin' seed in good ground that will spring up a hundredfold. i spoze that it wuz on robert strong's account (he is acquainted with so many big chinamen and japans) that we wuz invited to a elegant tiffen in one of the mikado's palaces at tokio. the grounds wuz beautiful, the garden containing some of the most beautiful specimens of trees, trained into all shapes, some on 'em hundreds of years old, but havin' their faculties yet, and growin' jest as they wuz told to, and all the beautiful flowers and shrubs that japan can boast of, and palm trees, bananas, giant ferns and everything else beautiful in the way of vegetation. the palace is one of the oldest in tokio. it wuz only one story high, but the rooms wuz beautiful. the fan chamber wuz fifty feet square, the walls covered with fans of every size and shape and color. the only furniture in this room wuz two magnificent cabinets of lacquer work and four great, gorgeous bronze vases. the tiffen wuz gin by a high official; there wuz fifty guests. the hour was two in the afternoon. there wuz ten ladies present--two beautiful japanese ladies, dressed in the rich toilette of japan. the lunch cards wuz little squares of scarlet paper, with black japanese writing. josiah looked at the card intently and then whispered to me: "how be i goin' to know what i am eatin' from these duck tracks?" but i whispered, "le's do what the rest do, josiah, and we'll come out all right." but we had a dretful scare, for right whilst we wuz partakin' of the choice japan viands a loud rumblin' sound wuz hearn, and i see even as we rushed to the door the timbers of the ceilin' part and then come together agin and the great bronze chandelier swing back and forth. my pardner ketched hold of my hand and hurried me along on a swift run and wouldn't stop runnin' for some time. i tried to stop him, for i got out of breath, but he wuz bound to run right back to yokohama, thirty miles off. but i convinced him that we would be no safer there, for you can't argy with earthquake shocks and tell when they're comin', they are very common in all parts of japan. after the first heavy shock there wuz two lighter ones, and that ended it for that time. but though we all went back to the table, i can't say that i took any great comfort in the tiffen after that. a blow has fell onto me i wuzn't prepared for. we found a number of letters waitin' for us here at the tarven that robert strong had ordered to be forwarded there. it seemed so good, whilst settin' under a palm tree, seein' jinrikishas go by, and chinas and japans, to set and read about the dear ones in jonesville, and the old mair and snip. the letters wuz full of affection and cheer, and after readin' 'em i gathered 'em up and sought my pardner to exchange letters with him, as i wuz wont to do, and i see he had quite a few, but what was my surprise to see that man sarahuptishushly and with a guilty look try to conceal one on 'em under his bandanna. and any woman will know that all his other letters wuz as dross to me compared to the one he was hidin'. i will pass over my argyments--and--and words, before that letter lay in my hand. but suffice it to say, that when at last i read it and all wuz explained to me, groans and sithes riz from my burdened heart deeper and despairener than any i had gin vent to in years and years. and i may as well tell the hull story now, as i spoze my readers are most as anxious about it as i wuz. oh, josiah! how could you done it? how i do hate to tell it! must i tell the shameful facts? oh, duty! lower thy strongest apron strings and let me cling and tell and weep. and there it had been goin' on for months and i not mistrustin' it. but duty, i will hold hard onto thy strings and tell the shameful tale. josiah owned a old dwellin' house in the environs of jonesville, right acrost from cap'n bardeen's, who rented it of him to store things in. the town line runs right under the house, so the sink is in zoar, and the cupboard always had stood in jonesville. but owin' to ernest white's labors and prayers and votes, his and all other good ministers and earnest helpers, jonesville went no-license now jest as loontown did last year. and jest as satan always duz if he gits holt of souls that he can't buy or skair, he will try to cheat 'em, he is so suttle. it seems that after we got away that cap'n bardeen moved that cupboard over to the other side of the room into zoar and went to sellin' whiskey out on't. awful doin's! the minute i read the letter i sez: "josiah allen, do you write this very minute and stop this wicked, wicked works!" sez i: "no knowin' how many jonesvillians will feel their religion a-wobblin' and tottlin' just by your example; naterally they would look up to a deacon and emulate his example--do you stop it to once!" "no, samantha," sez he, "cap'n bardeen and his father owns more cows than any other jonesvillians. if i want to be salesman agin in the jonesville factory i mustn't make 'em mad, and they pay a dretful high rent." "i wouldn't call it rent," sez i, "i'd call it blood-money. i'd run a pirate flag up on the ruff with these words on it, 'josiah allen, deacon.'" he wuz agitated and sez, "oh, no, samantha; i wouldn't do that for the world, i am so well thought on in the m. e. meetin' house." "well, you won't be well thought on if you do such a thing as this!" sez i. "jest think how ernest white, that good devoted minister, has labored and prayed for the good of souls and bodies, and you tryin' your best to overthrow it all. how could you do it, josiah?" "well, i may as well tell you, samantha, i writ to ury and kinder left it to him. he knows my ambitions and my biziness. he knows how handy money is, and he fixed it all straight and right." "ury!" sez i, "why should you leave it to ury? does he keep your conscience and clean it off when it gits black and nasty by such doin's as this?" "no, samantha, i've got my conscience all right. i brought it with me on my tower." "why should you leave it to ury? he's your hired man, he would do as you told him to," sez i. "for a methodist deacon such acts are demeanin' and disgustin' for a pardner and jonesville to witness, let alone the country." and agin i sez, "you can stop it in a minute if you want to, and you know right from wrong, you know enough to say yes or no without bringin' ury into the scrape; ury! spozein' you git him into it, i can tell you he won't bear the brunt of it before the bar of this country or that bar up above. you'll have to carry the responsibility of all the evil it duz, and it will be a lastin' disgrace to you and the hull methodist meetin-house if you let it go on." agin he sez, "ury fixed it all right." "how did ury fix it?" sez i, in the cold axents of woman's skorn and curiosity. "well, ury said, make bardeen stop sellin' whiskey out of the cupboard, make him sell it out of the chist. there is a big chist there that bardeen bought to keep grain in, sez ury; let bardeen move that cupboard acrost the room back into jonesville, set the chist up on the sink in zoar and sell it out of that. ury said that in his opinion that would make it all right, so that a perfessor and a methodist deacon could do it with a clear conscience." sez i, "do you write to once, josiah allen, and tell bardeen to either stop such works, or move right out." "well," sez he blandly, real bland and polite, "i will consider it, samantha, i will give it my consideration." "no, no, josiah allen, you know right from wrong, truth from falsehood, honesty from dishonesty, you don't want to consider." "yes, i do, samantha; it is so genteel when a moral question comes up to wait and consider; it is very fashionable." "how long do you lay out to wait, josiah allen?" sez i, coldly. "oh, it is fashionable to not give a answer till you're obleeged to, but i will consult agin with ury and probable along by fall i can give you my ultimatum." "and whilst you are a considerin' bardeen will go on a sellin' pizen to destroy all the good that ernest white, that devoted minister of christ, and all the good men and wimmen helpers have done and are a doin'." "well," sez josiah, "i may as well tell you, you would probably hear on't, ernest white writ me some time ago, and sent me a long petition signed by most all the ministers and leadin' men and wimmen, beggin' me to stop bardeen." "well, what did you tell him, josiah allen?" "i told him, samantha, i would consider it." "and," sez i, "have you been all this time, months and months, a considerin'?" "yes, mom," sez he, in a polite, genteel tone, "i have." "well, do you stop considerin' to once, josiah allen." "no, samantha, a pardner can do a good deal, but she can't break up a man's considerin'. it is very genteel and fashionable, and i shall keep it up." i groaned aloud; the more i thought on't, the worse i felt. sez i, "to think of all the evils that are a flowin' out of that place, josiah, and you could stop it to once if you wuz a minter." "but," sez josiah, "ury sez that if it wuzn't sold there by cap'n bardeen the factory folks would go over into zoar and git worse likker sold by low down critters." sez i, "you might as well say if christians don't steal and murder, it will be done by them of poor moral character. that is one strong weepon to kill the evil--confine the bizness to the low and vile and show the world that you, a methodist and a deacon, put the bizness right where it belongs, with murder and all wickedness, not as you are sayin' now by your example, it is right and i will protect it." "well," sez josiah, as sot as a old hen settin' on a brick bat, "it is law; ury has settled it." my heart ached so that it seemed to clear my head. "we'll see," sez i, "if it can't be changed. i'll know before a week has gone over my head." and i got up and dragged out the hair trunk, sithin' so deep that it wuz dretful to hear, some like the melancholy winter winds howlin' round a jonesville chimbly. "what are you a goin' to do, samantha?" sez josiah anxiously. "i am goin' back home," sez i, "to-morrer to see about that law." "alone?" sez he. "yes, alone," sez i, "alone." "never!" sez josiah. "never will i let my idol go from japan to jonesville unprotected. if you must go and make a town's talk from china to jonesville i'll stand by you." and he took down his hat and ombrell. "what would you do if you went back?" sez i. "i should think you had done enough as it is; i shall go alone." "what! you go and leave all the pleasures of this trip and go alone? part from your pardner for months and months?" "yes," sez i wildly, "and mebby forever. it don't seem to me that i can ever live with a man that is doin' what you are." and hot tears dribbled down onto my sheep's-head night-caps. "oh, samantha!" sez he, takin' out his bandanna and weepin' in consort, "what is money or ambition compared to the idol of my heart? i'll write to ury to change the law agin." "dear josiah!" sez i, "i knew, i knew you couldn't be so wicked as to continue what you had begun. but can you do it?" sez i. sez he cheerfully, as he see me take out a sheep's-head night-cap and shet down the trunk led, "what man has done, man can do. if ury can fix a law once, he can fix it twice. and he done it for me." sez he, "i can repeal it if i am a minter, and when i am a minter." and he got up and took a sheet of paper and begun to write to repeal that law. i gently leggo the apron-string dear duty had lowered to me; it had held; pure principle had conquered agin. oh, the relief and sweetness of that hour! sweet is the pink blush of roses after the cold snows of winter; sweet is rest after a weary pilgrimage. calm and beautiful is the warm ambient air of repose and affection after a matrimonial blizzard. josiah wuz better to me than he had been for over seven weeks, and his lovin' demeanor didn't change for the worse for as many as five days. but the wicked wrong wuz done away with. i writ a letter to ernest white tellin' him i never knowed a word about it till that very day, and my companion had repealed the law, and cap'n bardeen had got to move out or stop sellin' whiskey. he knows how i worship josiah; he didn't expect that i would come out openly and blame him; no, the bare facts wuz enough. i ended up the letter with a post scriptum remark. sez i: "waitstill webb is sweeter lookin' than ever and as good as pure gold, jest as she always wuz, but the climate is wearin' on her, and i believe she will be back in jonesville as soon as we are, if not before. she is a lovely girl and would make a christian minister's home in loontown or any other town a blessed and happy place." i thought i wouldn't dast to do anything more than to give such a little blind hint. but to resoom. folks seem to have a wrong idee about the education of the japanese. there are twenty-eight thousand schools in japan, besides the private and public kindergartens. there are over three million native students out of a school population of seven million. there are sixty-nine thousand teachers, all japanese, excepting about two hundred and fifty american, german and english. nearly ten million dollars (japanese) is raised annually for educational purposes from school fees, taxes, interest on funds, etc. they have compulsory school laws just like ours. and not a drunken native did we see whilst in japan, and i wish that i could say the same of new york for the same length of time or chicago or jonesville. and for gentle, polite, amiable manners they go as fur ahead of americans as the leaves of their trees duz, and i've seen leaves there more'n ten feet long. the empire of japan consists of three thousand eight hundred islands, from one eight hundred milds long to them no bigger than a tin pan, and the population is about forty-three million. i don't spoze any nation on earth ever made faster progress than japan has in the last thirty years: railways, telegraph postal system. it seems as if all japan wanted wuz to find out the best way of doin' things, and then she goes right ahead and duz 'em. robert strong wuz talking about what the word japan meant, the sunrise land. and he said some real pretty things about it and so did dorothy. they wuz dretful took with the country. robert strong has travelled everywhere and he told me that some portions of japan wuz more beautiful than any country he had ever seen. we took several short journeys into the interior to see the home life of the people, but robert strong, who seemed to be by the consent of all of us the head of our expedition, thought that we had better not linger very long there as there wuz so many other countries that we wanted to visit, but 'tennyrate we decided to start for calcutta from hongkong, stopping on the way at shanghai. chapter xix we wuz a goin' to stop for a day or two at shanghai and i wuz real glad on't, for i felt that i must see the empress, si ann, without any more delay, and i hearn she wuz there visitin' some of her folks. yes, i felt the widder hien fong ort to hear what i had to say to her with no further delay, i felt it wuz a duty that i owed toward the nation and josiah. the voyage from yokohama to shanghai is very interesting, a part of it is through the inland sea, mountains and valleys on both sides, many islands and large and small towns all along the shores. our hull party kep' well and all enjoyed all the strange picturesque scenery, most as new to us as if we wuz on another planet. yes, i d'no as jupiter would look any stranger to us than the country did, or mars or saturn. we wuz over a day crossin' the yaller sea, well named, for its water is as yaller as the sands on its shores. i'd hate to wash white clothes in it. and as we drew near shanghai it wuz all alive with chinese junks full of men, wimmen and children. the children here on these boats seem to be tied up with ropes, givin' 'em room to crawl round, same as i have tied up jonesville hens that wanted to set. shanghai means, "approaching the sea," and i spoze it might just as well mean approaching from the sea, as we did. old shanghai is surrounded by a wall and moat and is entered by six gates, the roads are only ten feet wide and dirty and bad smellin', and most of its houses are small, though there are a few very fine buildings, according to their style, lots of little piazzas jutting out everywhere with the ends turned up, that seems to be their taste; why a ruff or a piazza straight acrost would have been a boon to my jonesville trained eyes. the houses on the principal streets are used for shops; no winders on the first floor; they are all open in front during the day and closed by heavy latticework at night. the favorite carriage here is a wheelbarrow, the wheel in the centre and a seat on each side. josiah and i got into one, he carryin' tommy in his lap, but he sez with a groan: "i never spozed that i should git down to this, samantha, to ride in a wheelbarrow. what would ury say! i am glad he can't see it, or deacon henzy or any of the other jonesville brothers and sistern." the furrin suburbs are laid out like a european city, with broad streets, well lighted and clean. we went on the bubbling well road, named from a boiling spring a few miles out. the road is broad and smooth as glass with beautiful villas along the way; we also passed a great number of small burying places. they have to bury folks according to the rules of feng shui. if feng shui should order a burial place in a dooryard it would have to be there. it rules buildings, customs, laws, everything. i asked a chinaman who could talk english what this feng shui wuz that they had to obey it so strictly, and he described it as being like the wind and water: like wind because you don't know where it come from nor when it would go or where; and like water because you could never know how to grasp it, it would elude you and slip away and you would have nothing in your hand to show. miss meechim cried out about the enormity of such a law and laid it to the evil doin's of furriners, but arvilly said that it wuz some like the laws we had in america, for we found out on inquiry that money would most always appease this great feng shui and git it to consent to most anything if it wuz paid enough, just as it did in america. josiah said he had a good mind to set up some such thing in jonesville when he got back, sez he, "i wouldn't name it feng shui just like this, i might call it fine shue or sunthin' like that. and jest see, samantha, how handy it would be if the meetin' house went aginst me i would jest git up and lift up my hand and say, 'fine shue has decided. it will be as i say.' or on 'lection day, if i wuzn't put up for office, or when they elect somebody besides me, or at the cheese factory if they put up another salesman, or on the beat, if they wanted another pathmaster, i'd jest call on the fine shue and there i'd be. why, samantha," sez he, gittin' carried away in his excitement, "i could git to be president jest as easy as fallin' off a log if i could make the fine shue work." "yes," sez i, "but that is a big if; but do you want to, josiah, turn back the wheels of our civilization that are creaky and jolty enough, heaven knows, back into worse and more swampy paths than they are runnin' in now?" "i d'no," sez josiah, "but it would be all right if it wuz run by a man like me; a methodist in full standin', and one of the most enlightened and christian men of the times." but i lifted my hand in a warnin' way and sez, "stop, josiah allen, to once! such talk is imperialism, and you know i am sot like a rock aginst that. imperialism is as much out of place in a republic as a angel in a glue factory." well, i am in hopes that ten thousand milds of travel will jolt some idees out of his mind. being in shanghai over sunday, we attended service held by a missionary. it wuz a beautiful service which we all enjoyed. the words of this good christian man in prayer and praise sounded to our ears as sweet as the sound of waters in a desert land. over a hundred wuz present, and after service the pulpit wuz moved off and several wuz baptized in water jest as they do in america. the rich and poor seem to live side by side more than they do in our country, and rich merchants live over their shops; mebby it is to protect them from the feng shui, for if that gits on track of a rich man a great part of his wealth is appropriated by the government; it very often borrys their money--or what it calls borryin'. shanghai wuz the first place where i see men carryin' fans. when they're not fannin' themselves they put the fan at the back of their neck, for a ornament i guess. josiah made a note in his pocket diary: "mem--to git a fan the day after i git home, to carry it to jonesville to meetin', to fan myself with it on the way there before elder minkley and brother henzy. mem--a red and yaller one." but of this fan bizness more anon. there are not many wimmen in the streets here. the poorer class of chinese let their feet grow to the natural size; it is only the aristocracy who bind up their feet. but my mission to the empress wore on me. i felt that i must not delay seekin' a augience. and, as it happened, or no, not happened--it wuz to be--one day whilst josiah and arvilly and tommy and i wuz walkin' in a beautiful garden, the rest of the party bein' away on another tower after pleasure and instruction, josiah and tommy had gone to see the fish in a fountain a little ways off, and arvilly wuz some distance away, when all of a sudden i heard a bystander say in a low, awe-struck voice, "there is the empress." she wuz walkin' through the garden with two ladies-in-waiting, and a elegant carriage wuz goin' slow a little ways off, givin' her a chance for excercise, i spoze. she wuz dressed in a long, colored silk night-gown--or it wuz shaped like one--though they wear 'em day times, all embroidered and glitterin' with precious stuns. she didn't have her crown on--mebby it wuz broke and away to be fixed--but her hair wuz combed dretful slick and stuck full of jewelled pins and stars, etc. i knowed her by her picture, and also by my feelin's, and i sez to myself, now is the time for me to onburden myself of the important mission that had been layin' so heavy on my chist. yes, duty's apron strings jest drawed me right up in front of her, and i advanced, holdin' out my hand in as friendly a way as if she had come for a all-day's visit to me in jonesville. her ladies-in-waitin' kinder fell back, and as i advanced i bowed real low--as low as i dasted to, for i felt that i wouldn't have ketched my feet in the facin' of my dress and fell down at that time for a dollar bill. she's smart; she recognized my lofty sperit, and her greetin' wuz considerable cordial, though held back by her chinese education. sez i, "empress si ann (i d'no but i ort to call her sarah ann, that's probable her name docked off by her folks to pet her. but i thought i wouldn't meddle with a pet name; i'd call her si ann)." sez i, "i set out from jonesville with a important message for you, and i've bore it over the ocean on a tower and now i lay it at your feet." i here paused to give her a chance to wonder what it wuz, and get some excited, then i went on, "i felt that i must see you on my own account and josiah's and the nation's, and tell you not to, oh, not to lay that piece conference to us. i have laid awake nights worryin' about it, for fear you'd think that josiah and i, bein' prominent americans, had jined in and wuz tryin' to cut china to pieces. but we hadn't a thing to do with it." i meant to keep josiah in the background, knowin' the chinese aversion to mix up the sects in company, but he'd come back and he had to put in his oar here and sez he, "no, they couldn't git me to jine 'em. i wuz down with a crick at the time and samantha had to nuss me. we had our hands full and we couldn't have jined 'em anyway," he sez. i wunk at him and stepped on his toe, but nothin' could stop him, and he went on, "i wouldn't have jined 'em anyway, miss hein fong, i wouldn't treat a neighbor so." "neighbor?" sez she wonderin'ly. "yes," sez he, "you know our land jines on the under side. china jines my paster in the middle, though owin' to the way our land lays we can't neighbor much, and," sez he, "you're enough sight better neighbors than some i've got, your folks are old settlers and have always tended to their own bizness and kep' their cattle and hens to hum, which is more than i can say for all the neighbors whose land jines mine." but i could see that the ladies-in-waitin' wuz oneasy at havin' a man talkin' to 'em so free and i kinder advanced in front of him and sez: "josiah and i wuz dretful tickled with the idee at first when we spozed that conference meant real p-e-a-c-e and tryin' to bring the most beautiful gift of god and joy of heaven nigher to earth. why, it jest riz us right up, we felt so highly tickled with it. but when we see 'em begin to spell it p-i-e-c-e, and quarrel over the pieces, why, then we turned right agin 'em. why, good land! even if it wuz right, josiah has got all the land he wants to work and more too, and as i tell him, what is the use of him or the nation havin' a great lot of land to stand idle and pay taxes on, and keep a gang of hired men to watch. men and nations can git land poor, i believe." i see she liked what i said about the peace commission, but i wuz afraid she didn't git my idee jest right, so i sez, "i believe in the first on't the zar's idee come right down from heaven, filtered into his comprehension mebby through a woman's apprehension. but you know how it is, si ann, in the berry lot now if there are bushes hangin' full of big ones jest over the fence and somebody else is gittin' 'em all, you kinder want to jine in and git some on 'em yourself, though you may be a perfesser and singin' a sam tune at the time, specially if the fence is broke down that separates you. i can see how it wuz with that piece commission and make allowances for 'em, but we didn't have a thing to do with it and we don't want any of the pieces." my axent carried conviction with it; i see she looked relieved. she didn't say it right out, but i felt that we hadn't fell in her estimation, and i went on: "and i don't want you to blame uncle sam either, si ann. i believe he will help you all he can, help you in the right way, too; help you to help yourselves. but your folks have got to brace up and do their part; uncle sam will neighbor with you if you give him a chance. he's real good-hearted, though bein' so easy and good-natered, he is deceived lots of times and influenced and led around by them that want to make money out of him, such as the trusts and the liquor power. but he stands ready to neighbor with you, and don't turn your back on him, si ann. don't do anything to get him huffy, for though he hain't quick to git mad, he's got a temper when it's rousted up." she said sunthin' about uncle sam turnin' her folks out and not lettin' 'em step their feet on our sile. i couldn't deny it, and it kinder danted me for a minute how i wuz goin' to smooth that over, but concluded that as in every other emergency in life, the plain truth wuz the best, and i sez in a real amiable voice: "si ann, there is two sides to that jest as there is to every national and neighborhood quarrel. uncle sam hain't liked the way your folks have acted with him, and though i dare presoom to say he's some to blame, yet i can see where your folks have missed it. they would flock right over to our place, crowdin' our own folks out of house and home, and expect uncle sam to protect 'em, and then they would jest rake and scrape all they could offen us and go home to spend their money; wouldn't even leave one of their bones in our ground. they didn't want to become citizens of the united states, they seemed to kinder want to set down and stand up at the same time, which hain't reasonable if it is done by an american or a chinee." she said sunthin' about the masses of other foreigners that uncle sam allowed to crowd into our country. "well," sez i, "they're willin' to become citizens, the german and english and irish and russian and italian babies grow up americans. but it wuzn't so with your folks, si ann. from the children's little pig-tails down to their little wooden shues they wuz clear china, soaked in, dyed in the wool, born so, and as long as their bones hung together and afterwards, clear china. they kep' themselves jest as fur from american institutions and beliefs as ile stays away from water and wouldn't mix any more. their bodies stayed on our shores whilst they could make money out of us. but their souls and minds wuz jest as fur removed from our institutions and constitutions as if they wuz settin' in jupiter with their legs hangin' off. it wuz galdin' to uncle sam and finally he had to stop it. but he didn't do it out of meanness. he jest had to, for of course you know your own folks come first." and thinkin' mebby i'd been too hash describin' her folks i went on, "i spoze mebby that high stun wall of yourn has kinder stiffened and hardened the nature of your folks and made it harder for 'em to change. but you're on the right track now, si ann, you have begun to break down that big wall, you've begun to be more neighborly. and don't you ever crouch down and hide behind that great stun wall agin; you jest keep right on bein' neighborly and uncle sam will help you." si ann looked real good and as if she took every word i said in good part; bein' naterally so smart she would recognize the onselfishness and nobility of my mission, but i see that there wuz a real pert look on one of the ladies' faces as she said sunthin' to one of the other ones, and i mistrusted that they didn't like what i had said about that wall of theirn, and i went on to say to si ann: "of course you may say that a nation or a woman has a right to do as they've a mind to, but common sense must be used if you are goin' to enjoy yourself much in this world. now, we had a neighbor in jonesville that sot out in married life determined not to borrow or lend, dretful exclusive, jest built a high wall of separation round herself and family. but after tryin' it for a year or so she wuz glad to give it up, and many is the cup of tea and sugar i've lent her since, and she borries and lends her washtub now or biler, or settin' hens, or anythin'. and she sez that she and her family takes as much agin' comfort now and are doin' as well agin', for of course the neighbors didn't set so much store by 'em as they did when their ports wuz open, as you may say, and they wuz more neighborly." i could see by si ann's face that she not only enjoyed all i said, but believed a good share on't, and bein' such a case for justice, i felt that i ort to let her know i realized our own nation's short-comin's, as well as hern. sez i, "i hain't got a word to say to you, si ann, about the different castes in your country, when the wimmen in my own land build up a wall between themselves and their kitchen helpers higher than the highest peak of your stun wall and harder to git over, and i don't want to say a word about your folks bindin' down their children's feet to make 'em small as long as our own females pinch down their waists till they're in perfect agony and ten times as bad as to pinch their feet, for the life, the vital organs don't lay in the feet, or hain't spozed to, and so it don't hurt 'em half so much to be tortured. and as long as they drag round yards of silk and velvet through the streets to rake up filth and disease to carry home and endanger their own lives and their families; no, as long as our females do all this i hain't nothin' to say about your dress and customs here, nor i hain't a goin' to cast reflections agin you about your men wearin' night gowns and braidin' their hair down their backs. good land, si ann! you and i know what men be. we are married wimmen and seen trouble. you couldn't stop 'em if you tried to. if josiah allen took it into his head to braid his hair down his back, i should have to let it go on unless i broke it up sarahuptishly by cuttin' it off when he wuz asleep, but thank fortin' he hain't got enough so that the braid would be bigger than a pipe stale anyway if he should let it grow out, and he is so dressy he wouldn't like that. but i've tried to break up his wearin' such gay neckties for years and years, and if he should go out and buy one to-day it would most likely be red and yaller." [illustration: i withdrawed him, bowin' very low and smilin' at her.--page .] i felt that china hadn't been used exactly right; i knowed it. younger nations--new-comers, as you may say--had made light on her and abused her, usin' the very type the chinese had invented to say they didn't know anything and usin' the gunpowder they had invented to blow 'em up with. i had felt that the powers hadn't treated 'em well, and i had made up my mind some time ago that when i see the powers i should tell 'em what i thought on't. then there wuz the opium trade--a burnin' shame! i wanted to sympathize with her about that, but thought mebby it wuz best to not harrer up her feelin's any more, so i sez in a real polite way: "i have nothin' further to say now, si ann, only to bid you adoo and to tell you that if you ever come to jonesville be sure and come and see me; i'll be proud and happy to have you." here josiah had to put in his note: "good-by, widder!" sez he. if i had had time i would have tutored him; he spoke just as he would to widder gowdey. i wanted him to act more courtly and formal, but it wuz too late, it wuz spoke. "good-by, widder; we'll have to be a-goin'. we've had quite a spell of weather, but it looks some like rain now, and i have a important engagement to-night, and we'll have to be gittin' hum." but i gently withdrawed him, bowin' very low myself and lookin' dretful smilin' at her. like all great monarchs, she wanted to make her visitors a present, and she proposed to send us several drawin's of tea of the kind she used, and a little hunk of opium, though, as i told her, i should never use it in the world only to smoke in a pipe for the toothache; and she also proposed to send us a china sugar-bowl and a piece of the chinee wall, which last i told her i should value high as a sign that the old things wuz passin' away and better days comin'. and then i made some more real low bows and josiah did, bein' wunk at by me, and we withdrawed ourselves from the presence. but josiah, always overdoin' things, takin' out his bandanna and a-wavin' it towards her as he bowed most to the ground. but what wuz my surprise as we walked away kinder backward, josiah mutterin' to me that he should fall flat if he backed off much furder! what wuz my horrow to see arvilly advance with a copy of her books and present 'em to the empress. one of the ladies-in-waiting, who seemed to talk english quite considerable, looked at the books and read their titles to her majesty, who immediately signified her desire to purchase 'em, and before she left the group arvilly had sold three copies of the "twin crimes" and two of the "wild and warlike." poor empress! poor si ann! well might she treasure the last-named book, "the wild, wicked and warlike deeds of men." poor thing! i am afraid she will see plenty of it herself. them powers, sometimes, when they git to goin', act like the old harry. chapter xx the engagement my pardner had spoke on wuz to meet a chinaman that wuz comin' to see robert strong that evenin'. robert had met him in california, and josiah seemed dretful anxious to git home so as to dress up for his reception. and i sez, "there is time enough; i shouldn't think it would take you more than two hours to wash your hands and change your neck-tie." "well," sez he, in a evasive way, "i--i don't want to be scrimped for time." so, as tommy and i wanted to stop along on the way, he left us and went home. robert had told us a good deal about this man, mr. hi-wal-hum; about his wealth and high official standing, and josiah had been talkin' more or less about him all day; he looked forrered to it. he had said to me: "samantha, this man is a potentate, and it stands us in hand to be polite always to potentates." well, i couldn't dispute him nor didn't want to. when we arriv home i thought i would have jest about time to go to my room and wash my face and hands and put on a clean collar and cuffs and change tommy's clothes. tommy went on a little ahead of me, and i see him bend down and stretch his little neck forrered and look through the door as if he wuz agast at some sight. and as i come up he put his little fingers on his lips, as i spoze he'd seen me do, and whispered: "keep still, grandma; i don't know what grandpa is doin'." i looked over his shoulder and thought to myself i should think as much, i should think he wouldn't know. there stood josiah allen before the glass and of all the sights i ever see his dress went ahead. he had got on a red woolen underskirt and his dressin' gown over it kinder floated back from it, and he had took out of my trunk a switch of hair that tirzah ann had put in, thinkin' mebby i would want to dress my head different in foreign countries; i hadn't wore it at all, and it wuz clear in the bottom of my trunk, but he had got at it somehow and had fastened it onto his head, and it hung down his back and ended with a big broad, red ribbin bow; it was one of tommy's neck-ties. and he'd got all my jewelry--every mite on't--and had fastened it onto him on different places, and all of tommy's ribbins to tie his collar with, wuz made into bows and pinned onto him, and my c. e. badge and w. c. t. u. bow of white ribbin, and he had got my big palm leaf fan and had tied a big, red bow on't, and he wuz standin' before the glass fannin' himself and cranin' his neck one way and tother to see how he looked and admire himself, i spoze. and anon he tried to put the fan over his right ear. the idee! a palm leaf fan that wouldn't shet. and he spoke out to himself: "no, i can't do that, but i can be fannin' myself, all the time fannin' and bowin'." and then he stepped forrerd towards the glass and made a bow so low that his switch flopped over and ketched on the rocker of a chair and he couldn't move either way without jerkin' his braid off. "goodness gracious!" i hearn him say, "i never yet tried to be genteel without its being broke up some way," and he gin a jerk and left his switch on the floor. he took it up tenderly and smoothed it out and wuz tryin' to attach it to his head agin. it wuz fastened on by a red ribbin comin' up over his head and tied on top. but at that minute he ketched sight of me and he looked some meachin', but he begun immegiately pourin' our profuse reasons for his costoom and manners. sez he, "you know, robert wants us to meet that high official, and i felt that it would help our relations with china if i should dress up china fashion." sez i, "it will help one of your relations if you'll take off that red petticoat of hern, and ribbins and cameos and badges and things." sez he, "i am doin' this for political reasons, samantha, and can't be hampered by domestic reasons and ignorance." and he kep' on tyin' the bow on his foretop. sez i, "for the sake of your children and grandchildren won't you desist and not put 'em to shame and make a laughin' stock of yourself before miss meechim and arvilly and all the rest?" "i shall do my duty, samantha," sez he, and he pulled out the ribbin of the bow, so that it sot out some like a turban over his forward. "of course i look very dressy and pretty in this costoom, but that is not my reason for wearin' it; you and arvilly are always talking about political men who don't come up to the mark and do their duty by their constituents. i am a very influential man, samantha, and there is no tellin' how much good i shall do my country this day, and the sneers of the multitude shall not deter me." sez i, almost fearfully, "think of the meetin' house, josiah, where you're a deacon and looked up to; what will they say to hear of this, passin' yourself off for a chinaman; dressin' up in petticoats and red ribbins!" sez he, cranin' his neck round to see the bow hangin' down his back, "our old forefathers went through worse trials than this when they eat their cartridge boxes and friz themselves at valley forge," and he fingered some of them bows and ornaments on his breast agin with a vain, conceited smirk of satisfaction. i wuz at my wits' end; i glanced at the door; there wuz no lock on it; what should i do? religion and common sense wouldn't move him, and as for my sharpest weepon--good vittles--here i wuz hampered, i couldn't cook 'em for him, what could i do? sez he agin, "i only do this for patriotism; i sacrifice myself on the altar of my country," and he fanned himself gracefully, lookin' sarahuptishly into the glass. "well," sez i, growin' calm as i thought of a forlorn hope, "mebby it is best, josiah, and i hain't a-goin' to be outdone by you in patriotism. i too will sacrifice myself." and i proceeded to comb my hair with a firm look on my face. he looked alarmed. "what do you mean, samantha?" sez he. "i won't let you go ahead of me in sacrificing yourself, josiah. no, i will go fur ahead of what you or anybody else would do; it will most probable kill me, but i shall not falter." "what is it, samantha?" sez he, droppin' the fan and approachin' me with agitated mean. "what are you goin' to do? if it is to throw yourself in front of any idol and perish, i will save you if i shed the last drop of blood in my system!" "yes," sez i, "you could do great bizness in savin' me, togged out as you are, made helpless by your own folly; but," sez i, in a holler, awful axent, "it hain't that, josiah; it is fur worse than losin' my life; that wouldn't be nothin' in comparison." he looked white as a piller case. sez he: "tell me to once what you lay out to do." "well," sez i, "if you must know, i spoze that it might help our relations with china if i should part with you and wed a china potentate. it would kill me and be bad for the potentate, but if your country's welfare is at stake, if it would help our relations i----" "let the relations go to jericho, samantha! every one on 'em, and the potentates! every one on 'em!" and he kicked off them robes quicker than i can tell the tale. sez i, "josiah, you needn't tear every rag you've got on; take 'em off quietly." he'd put 'em on over his own clothes. he obeyed me implicitly, and sez he anxiously, as he laid 'em all on the bed: "you've gin up the idee, hain't you, samantha?" sez i, "i have for the present, josiah, i wuz only doin' it to emulate your sacrifice; if you don't sacrifice yourself any further, i shan't." he hadn't been so good to me for sometime as he wuz for the rest of that day. i only done it to stop his display, and my conscience hain't been quite at rest ever sence about it, but then a woman has to work headwork to keep her pardner within bounds. i wuzn't goin' to have him make a fool of himself before arvilly and miss meechim. arvilly would never let him hearn the end on't nor me nuther. well, we met the potentate in our own clothes and he met us in his own clothes, jest as he and we had a right to. he wuz a real sensible man, so robert strong said, and he understood a good deal of his talk and ort to know. well, from shanghai we sailed for hongkong and then embarked for point de galle on the island of ceylon, expectin' to stop on the way at saigon in cochin-china and singapore. it wuz dretful windy and onpleasant at first. it is much pleasanter to read about a monsoon in jonesville with your feet on a base burner than to experience one on a steamer. everything swayed and tipped and swung, that could, even to our stomachs. we only made a short stop at saigon--a hotter place i wuz never in. i thought of the oven in our kitchen range and felt that if philury wuz bakin' bread and meat and beans and got into the oven to turn 'em, she knew a little about the climate we wuz enjoying. as we ascended the river our ship got a little too near the shore and kinder run its prow into a jungle where the monkeys hung from the tree-tops and made fun of us, i spoze, mad at our invadin' their domain and wanted us to pay, 'tennyrate the muskeeters sent in their bills, sharp ones. saigon is a pretty place set in its tropical scenery; it has eighty or ninety thousand inhabitants and belongs to france. the natives are small and slower than time in the primer. singapore is an island in the straits of malacca and is twenty-four milds long and fourteen wide; it is a british province ruled by native princes under the queen. here the days and nights are of equal length and it rains about every day; it has a mixed population, chinamen, malays, europeans and a few americans, mebby a hundred thousand in all. we didn't stay long here, but rode out in what they called a jherry lookin' like a dry goods box drawed by a couple of ponies. josiah sez to me, "i am glad that the malay coolers wear a little more than the japans." and the coolies here did wear besides their red loin cloth a narrer strip of white cotton cloth hangin' over their left shoulders. our hotel wuz a very comfortable one; it consisted of several buildin's two stories high connected by covered halls; it wuz surrounded by handsome trees and beautiful ornamental shrubbery and flowers. the wide verandas wuz very pleasant, with their bamboo chairs and couches and little tables where you could have tea served. birds of the most beautiful plumage soared and sung in the trees, and butterflies that looked like flowers on wings fluttered about. you can't tell men from wimmen by their clothes. they all wear earrings and bracelets and nose-rings. josiah sez to me: "i have always said, samantha, that men didn't dress gay enough; a few bracelets and breastpins and earrings would add to a man's looks dretfully, and i mean to set the fashion in jonesville. it would take ten years offen my age. jest see how proud the men walk; they feel that they're dressed up; it gives 'em a lofty look." the men did seem to have a different gait from the females; the wimmen looked more meek and meachin. we didn't stay long in saigon, but we visited the whampoo garders and found that they were perfectly beautiful, made by mr. whampoo, a rich chinaman. there wuz fifty acres under most perfect cultivation. here the chinese fad of dwarfing and training trees wuz carried to perfection; there wuz trees trained into all sorts of shapes. one wuz a covered carriage about three feet high, with a horse, all tree, but natural as life; and then there wuz pagodas and men and wimmen and animals and birds all growin' and havin' to be trimmed by the patient chinese gardener. the tree they can use best is a evergreen with a little leaf and a white flower not much bigger than the head of a pin. but there wuz not only every tropical tree you could think on, palm, cocoanut, nutmeg, cinnamon, tea, coffee, and clove bush, but trees and plants from every part of the world, some from america. here wuz a victoria lily in its full beauty, the dark green leaves edged with brown and red, as big round as our washtub, and turned up on the edges about two inches. each plant has one leaf and one flower. and we see the most lovely orchids here; dorothy thought them the most beautiful of all. well, in a day or two we sot out for ceylon's isle. as we drew nigh to ceylon i sez to josiah: "did you ever expect, josiah allen, to feel "'the balmy breezes that blow from ceylon's isle where every prospect pleases, and only man is vile?'" and he sez, holdin' on his hat, "i shouldn't call these breezes very bammy, and you no need to lay such a powerful stress on _man_, samantha, that term, man, means wimmen too in this case." "yes," sez arvilly, who wuz standin' nigh, "that term, man, always includes wimmen when there is any blame or penalty attached, but when it sez 'man is born free and equal,' it means men alone." "yes," sez josiah, smilin' real pleasant, "you've happened to hit it jest right, arvilly." "well," sez i, "do look and enjoy the beauty that is spread out right before you." our good ship made its way into the harbor of colombo, through a multitude of boats with men of every color and size at their oars and all gesticulating and jabbering in axents as strange to us as jupiter talk would be. some of the boats wuz queer lookin'; they are called dugouts, and have outriggers for the crew to set on. they carry fruit and provision to the steamers in the bay, and take passengers to and fro. bein' took by one to terry firmy, we soon made our way through the chatterin' strange lookin' crowd of every color and costoom to a tarven where we obtained food and needed rest, and the next mornin' we sallied out some as we would if we had jest landed on the shores of another planet to explore a new world. we walked through the streets by big gardens that seemed jest ablaze with color and swoonin' with perfume. the low white houses wuz banked up with drifts of blossom and verdure as the jonesville houses wuz with snow drifts on a winter day. sweet voiced birds in gayest plumage swung and soared aloft instead of the ice-suckles that hung from the eaves of jonesville houses. and instead of ury clad in a buffalo coat and striped wool mittens walking with icy whiskers and frost-bitten ears to break the ice in the creek, wuz the gay crowd of men, wimmen and children dressed in all the rich colors of the rainbow, if they wuz dressed at all. solid purple, yellow, green, burnin' colors palpitating with light and cheer under the warm breezes and glowin' sunshine. sometimes the children wuz in jest the state that adam and eve wuz when they wuz finished off and pronounced good. sometimes a string and a red rag comprised their toilette, but they all seemed a part of the strange picture, the queer, mysterious, onknown orient. the gorgeous colorin' of the men's apparel struck josiah to the heart agin; he vowed that he would show jonesville the way for men to dress if he ever got home agin. sez he, "i will show deacon henzy and uncle sime bentley that a man can wear sunthin' besides that everlastin' black or gray." sez he: "i can dress gay with small expense; i can take one of your white woolen sheets and color it with diamond dye a bright red or a green or yeller at a outlay of ten cents per sheet, and one of my bandannas will make a crackin' good turban. let me walk into the jonesville meetin' house with that gorgeous drapery wropped round me, why i should be the lion of the day." "yes," sez i, "you would break up the congregation as quick as a real lion would." "well, i'll tell you, samantha, there is beauty in such a costoom that our sombry coats and pantaloons and vests can't come nigh to." i spoze ceylon is the most beautiful place in the world, such glow and richness of color, such aboundin' life in the verdure, in the animal and vegetable kingdom. no wonder so many think it wuz the original garden of eden; no shovelin' snow for adam or bankin' up fruits and vegetables for winter's use. no, he could step out barefoot in the warm velvety grass in december, and pick oranges and gather sweet potatoes and cucumbers, and strawberries if eve took it into her head she wanted a shortcake pie. and little cain could cut up cane literally, and every way, in january, and abel pile flowers and fruit on his altar all the year round. but i wonder which of their descendants built these immense magnificent cities layin' fur below forests and billows of turf and flowers. i wonder how they looked and what language they spoke and what their politics wuz. arvilly thought they must have been temperance folks. sez she, "any city that has reservoirs twenty milds long believed in drinkin' water." we had took a tower to see one of them dug up cities, and sure enough the water reservoir wuz twenty milds long; jest think from that what the size of the hull city must have been, when their waterin' trough, as you may say, wuz as long as america's biggest city. stately stairways, up which twenty carriages big as our democrat could pass side by side if horses could climb stairs. a row of tall pillers, ten milds in length, line the roads to some of them cities, and i sez: "oh, good land! how i wish i could be a mouse in the wall and see who and what passed over them roads, and why, and when, and where." and josiah sez, "why don't you say you wish you wuz a elephant and could look on? your simely would seem sounder." and i sez, "mebby so, for hull rows of carved marble elephants stand along them broad roads; i guess they worshipped 'em." and he sez, "i wuz alludin' to size." robert strong looked ruther sad as we looked on them ruins buried so deep by the shovel of time. but i sez to him in a low voice: "there is no danger of the city you're a-rarin' up ever bein' engulfed and lost, for justice and mercy and love shine jest as bright to-day as when the earth was called out of chaos. love is eternal, immortal, and though worlds reel and skies fall, what is immortal cannot perish." he looked real grateful at me; he sets store by me. everywhere, as you walk through the streets, you are importuned to buy sunthin'; some of the finest jewels in the world are bought here. the merchants are dretful polite, bowin' and smilin', their hair combed back slick and fastened up with shell combs. they wear white, short pantaloons and long frocks of colored silk, open in front over a red waistcoat; sometimes they are bare-footed with rings on their toes; they wear rings in their nose and sometimes two on each ear, at the top and bottom. josiah studied their costoom with happy interest, but a deep shade of anxiety darkened his mean as they would spread out their wares before me, and he sez with a axent of tender interest: "if you knew, samantha, how much more beautiful you looked to me in your cameo pin you would never think of appearin' in diamonds and rubies." i sez, "i guess i won't buy any nose-rings, josiah, my nose is pretty big anyway." "yes," he interrupted me eagerly, "they wouldn't be becomin', samantha, and be in the way eatin' sweet corn on the ear and such." there are lots of men carryin' round serpents, and i sez to josiah, "who under the sun would want to buy a snake unless they wuz crazy?" "yes," said josiah, "eve made a big mistake listenin' to that serpent; there probable wuzn't but one then, and that's the way they have jest overrun the garden, her payin' attention and listenin' to it. females can't seem to look ahead." and i sez, "why didn't adam do as you always do, josiah, ketch up a stick and put an end to it?" i always holler to josiah if i see a snake and he makes way with it. but such talk is onprofitable. but josiah hadn't a doubt but this was the garden of eden and talked fluent about it. one odd thing here in ceylon is that foxes have wings and can fly. josiah wanted to get one the worse way; he said that he would willin'ly carry it home in his arms for the sake of havin' it fly round over jonesville, and sez he, "they are so smart, samantha, they will git drunk jest as naterally as men do, they would feel to home in america." and they say they do steal palm wine out of bowls set to ketch it by the natives and are found under the trees too drunk to git home, not havin' wives or children willin' to lead 'em home, i spoze, or accomidatin' policemen. but i sez, "don't you try to git the animals in america to drinkin', josiah allen." sez i, "i should be mortified to death to see the old mair or snip staggerin' round as men do, lookin' maudlin and silly; i should despise the idee of lowerin' the animals down to that state." "well, well, i don't spoze i can git one of these foxes anyway, though i might," sez he dreamily, "git one real drunk and carry it." but i guess he'll gin it up. the jungles all round us wuz, i spoze, filled with wild animals. elephants, tigers and serpents, big and little, besides monkeys and more harmless ones. the snake charmers did dretful strange things with 'em, but i didn't look on. i always said that if snakes would let me alone, i would let them alone. but they brought all sorts of things to sell: embroideries of all kinds, carved ivory, tortoise shell and all kinds of jewels. paris and london gits some of their finest jewels here. men and wimmen are all bejewelled from head to foot, children up to ten years of age are almost always naked, but wearin' bracelets, anklets and silver belts round their little brown bodies, sometimes with bells attached. some of the poorer natives chew beetle nuts which make their teeth look some like an old tobacco chewer's. they eat in common out of a large bowl and i spoze they don't use napkins or finger bowls. but unlike the poor in our frozen winter cities, as arvilly said, there is little danger of their starving; warm they will be from year's end to year's end, and the bread tree and cocoanut palm supply food, and the traveller's palm supplies a cool, delicious drink. there is one palm tree here--the talipot--that blooms when about forty years old with a loud noise and immegiately dies. arvilly said that they made her think of some political candidates. dorothy and robert strong and miss meechim wanted to go to kandy, the capital of ceylon, only seventy milds away, to see the tooth of boodha. miss meechim said she wanted to weep over it. she is kinder romantic in spots, and josiah hearn her and said, soty vosey, to me, "you won't ketch me weepin' over any tooth unless it is achin' like the old harry." but i kinder wanted to see the tooth. i had hearn thomas j. read a good deal about prince siddartha, lord buddha, and how he wuz "right gentle, though so wise, princely of mean, yet softly mannered, modest, deferent and tender hearted, though of fearless blood," and how he renounced throne and wealth and love for his people, to "seek deliverance and the unknown light." i had always pictured him as looking more beautiful than any other mortal man, but of this more anon. josiah and arvilly concluded to go too; it wuz only a four hours' ride. we passed coffee plantations, immense gardens and forests full of ebony trees, the strange banion tree that seems to walk off all round itself and plant its great feet solidly in the earth, and then step off agin, makin' a hull forest of itself, and satin wood trees, and india rubber, bamboo, balsam, bread fruit, pepper and cinchony or quinine bushes, tea and rice plantations. our road led up the mountain side and anon the city of kandy could be seen sot down in a sort of a valley on the mountain. we had our dinner at the queen's hotel, and from there sallied out to see the sights. not fur from the hotel wuz a artificial lake three milds round, built by some king. his very name is forgotten, whilst the water of this little lake he dug out splashes up on the shore jest as fresh as ever. all round the lake is a beautiful driveway, where all sorts of vehicles wuz seen. big barouches full of english people, down to a little two-wheeled cart drawed by one ox. crowds of people, jewels, bright color, anon a poor woman carrying her baby astride her hip, men, wimmen, children, a brilliant, movin' panorama. the tooth of buddha is kep' in a temple called maligawa, or temple of the tooth, and i laid out to have a considerable number of emotions as i stood before it. but imagine a tooth bigger than a hull tooth brush! what kind of a mouth must lord buddha have had if that wuz a sample of his teeth? why, his mouth, at the least calculation, must have been as big as a ten-quart pan! where wuz the beauty and charm of that countenance--that mouth that had spoke such wise words? i don't believe it wuz his tooth. i hain't no idee it wuz. no human bein' ever had a mouth big enough to hold thirty odd monsters like that, let alone this noble prince, "with godlike face and eyes enwrapped, lost in care for them he knew not, save as fellow lives." there is a mistake somewhere. there wuz lots of natives round worshippin' it. but i felt that if prince siddartha could speak out of nirvana he would say: "don't worship that tooth, josiah allen's wife; it hain't mine nor never wuz; but worship the principles of love and compassion and self-sacrifice i tried to teach to my people." and almost instinctively i sez, "i will, prince siddartha, i will." and josiah sez: "what say, samantha?" and i sez: "let's go out, josiah, and see the sacred tree, bo, that they worship." "i'll go," sez josiah, "but you won't git me to worship no tree, i can tell you that. i've cleared off too many acres and chopped and sawed too much cord wood to worship a tree." "did i ask you to, josiah?" sez i. "it would break my heart to see you bend your knee to any idol. but this is the oldest tree in the world; it is over two thousand years old." "wall, it ort to be cut down, samantha, if it is that age; it is seasoned and would make crackin' good lumber." oh, how oncongenial josiah allen is by spells; he seemed to be quite a distance off from me as he made them remarks. but robert strong and dorothy shared my feelin's of reverence for a tree whose mighty branches might have shaded the head of our lord and whose leaves might have rustled with the wind that swept the brow of napoleon and cæsar and pharo for all i knew. there wuz some natives burnin' camphor flowers before it and some on 'em had hung up little lamps in its branches. they say that one hundred thousand pilgrims visit it each year. well, we driv round some, seein' all the strange, picturesque sights; past tea plantations and a tea factory, the botanical gardens where we driv milds through its beautiful tree shaded avenoos; there are twenty-five thousand kinds of plants here in this garden; some say it is the finest collection in the world. and we driv past some of the native dwellings, and some beautiful villas where europeans live durin' the warm season, past the library, a beautiful building standing on pillars on the shores of the lake, and by the governor's palace, handsome enough for any king and queen, and we got back to colombo middlin' late and tired out. but as tired as josiah wuz he talked considerable to me about "bud," as familiar as if he wuz well acquainted with him, but i sez, "you mean b-u-d-d-h, josiah." but i thought to myself as the chinese have five thousand different names for him one more wouldn't neither make nor break him. well, the next day we embarked for calcutta. our steamer stopped two milds off from madras. the wind was so high we couldn't get any nearer. none of our party went ashore but robert strong. he wuz tied into an arm-chair and swung off by ropes down into a little boat that wuz dashin' up and down fur below. i wouldn't done it fur a dollar bill. the surf boats are deep, made of bark and bamboo, shaped some like our indian canoes. but no matter how much the winds blew or the boats rocked, lots of native peddlers come aboard to sell jewelry, fans, dress stuffs; and snake charmers come, and fakirs, doin' their strange tricks, that i d'no how they do, nor josiah don't. madras has more than half a million inhabitants, and it looked well from the steamer: handsome villas, beautiful tropical trees, and hull forests of cactus ablaze with their gorgeous blossoms. it bein' sunday whilst on our way from madras to calcutta the captain read service, and afterwards made his sunday inspection of the crew. the sailors and cooks wuz hindus, the stewards english and scotch. the crew had on short white trousers, long white jackets and white caps, all on 'em wuz barefooted. we sailed acrost the bay of bengal, where i spoze bengal tigers wuz hidin' in the adjacent jungles, though we didn't meet any and didn't want to. and so on to the hoogly river; one of the mouths of the ganges, and on to calcutta. calcutta is over four thousand milds from hongkong. and oh, my heart! how fur! how fur from jonesville. most fourteen thousand milds from our own vine and apple trees and the children. it made my head turn round so that i tried to furgit it. chapter xxi as we approached calcutta we seemed to be travellin' through big gardens more beautiful than our own country can boast of; rich, strange, tropical trees and shrubs and flowers grew luxuriant around the pleasant villas. the english district with its white two-story houses made me think some of an american village. we went to the great eastern hotel, right opposite the gardens of the viceroy's palace. we had pleasant rooms that would have been pretty hot, but great fans are swung up in our room and the hired help swing 'em by a rope that goes out into the hall. it beats all how much help there is here, the halls seemed full on 'em, but what would our hired help say if we made 'em dress like these hindus? they wear short pantaloons that don't come down to their knees and then they wind a long strip of white cloth round their thighs and fasten it round their waist, leavin' their right shoulder and arm bare naked. an american family of four livin' in calcutta have thirty servants, ten of 'em pullin' at these punkeys or fans. they don't eat in the house of their employer; but in a cabin outside. there is a long, beautiful street called the strand, shaded by banyan and palm trees; on one side on't is the park so lovely that it is called the garden of eden, full of beautiful trees, shrubs and flowers, pagodas, little temples and shrines. josiah and i and tommy went there in the evenin' and hearn beautiful music. josiah wanted to ride in a palanquin. it is a long black box and looks some like a hearse. i hated to see him get in, it made me forebode. but he enjoyed his ride, and afterwards i sot off in one, josiah in one also nigh by with tommy. one side of it comes off so you can git in and set on a high cushion and read or knit. i took my knittin' and most knit one of josiah's heels whilst i rid by palaces and elephants and camels and fakirs and palm trees. oh, jonesville yarn! you never expected to be knit amid seens like this. i can knit and admire scenery first rate, and my blue and white yarn seemed to connect me with jonesville in some occult way, and then i knew josiah would need his socks before we got home. seein' that the other ladies did so i had throwed my braize veil gracefully over my head instead of my bunnet. the natives are as fond of jewels here as they are in ceylon. women with not a rag on down to their waists will have four or five chains on, and bangles on their naked arms. they spend all their earnin's on these ornaments and wear 'em day and night. well, seein' they don't have any other clothes hardly, mebby it is best for 'em to keep holt on 'em. we went by some wimmen preparin' manure for fuel; it wuz made into lumps and dried. the wimmen wuz workin' away all covered with chains and bangles and rings; josiah looked on 'em engaged in that menial and onwelcome occupation, and sez he: "to see wimmen to work in the barnyard, samantha, has put a new idee into my head." i never asked him what it wuz, but spozed it had reference to philury and mebby me, but i shall never go into that work, never. one day we went to the american mission school and see the native children settin' flat on the floor. josiah wuz awful worked up to see 'em settin' down in such a oncomfortable posture, and he said to me that if he had some tools and lumber he would make 'em some seats. but that is their way of settin' to study their lessons. among 'em wuz a little girl with a red spot on her forward, indicatin' that she wuz married, but don't spoze that she had gone to keepin' house yet. girls are married sometimes at six or seven, but their husbands don't claim 'em till they're ten or twelve. good land! they're nothin' but babies then; i used to hold tirzah ann on my lap at that age. widders never marry again, and are doomed to a wretched life of degradation and slavery; i guess that is the reason why some on 'em had ruther be burnt up with their relics than to live on to suffer so. how much they need the religion of love and mercy our saviour come to teach! our missionaries are doin' a blessed work, literally loosin' the chains of the captives, and settin' at liberty them that are bound. one evenin' we met a bridal procession, the groom was ridin' in a peacock-shaped gilt chariot drawed by four horses, accompanied by a band of music; a big crowd of friends follered him, and coolies bearing torches; it seemed as if he wanted to show himself off all he could. when they got to the house of the bride, they took her in a closed palanquin and meached away to the house of the groom. as in some other countries, females play a minor part in the tune of life; wimmen and children can't eat at the table with their husband and father, and he sets to the table and she sets down on the floor. miss meechim exclaimed loudly about the awful position of wimmen here, but arvilly told her that "though wimmen at home had crep' up a little so she could set to the table and pour the tea, yet at banquets of honor she wuz never seen and at the political table, where men proudly sot and partook, wimmen still sot on the floor and couldn't git a bite." miss meechim didn't dain a reply, but turned her talk onto the dretful idee of widders bein' burnt with their dead husbands. the english won't allow it where they can help it, but it is still practised in way back regions, and arvilly said that she believed that some american widders, who had had their property took from them by the family of the deceased and had their unborn children willed away from 'em by law, suffered enough sight more than they would if they had burnt themselves up with their relics; to say nothin' of widders bein' burnt up twice in america, first through their own fiery agony, and then seein' their children sot fire to by whiskey dealt to 'em by the will of the rulers of the land. arvilly always would have the last word. miss meechim kinder snorted and tosted her head and held in. i spoze it wuz partly on robert strong's account, he bein' high connected and rich, that we wuz all invited to a garden party gin by mr. and miss curzon, she that wuz miss leiter, who used to be one of our neighbors, as you may say, out in chicago, u.s. and then i spoze that it wuz partly on my account, they'd hearn of me, without any doubt, and craved a augience. josiah thought that it wuz on his account that we wuz invited; he thinks he is a ornament to any festive throng. but 'tennyrate invited we wuz, and go we did, the hull caboodle on us, all but tommy, who stayed to home with the good english maid that miss meechim had hired to take aronette's place, but never, never to fill it. oh, aronette! sweet girl! where are you? where are you? so my heart called out time and time agin; sometimes in the dead of night on my wakeful pillow, and anon when i wuz lookin' for her in places that i didn't want to find her. so did dorothy's heart call out to her. i knew she wuz lookin' for her always, seekin' her with sad eyes full of tears, looking, longing for the playmate of her childhood, the loving, gentle helper and companion of her youth. miss meechim didn't speak of her so often as she thought of her, i believe; but she grew thin after her loss, and when grief for a person ploughs away your flesh you can call yourself a mourner. she lost five pounds and a half in less than a month; next to dorothy she loved her. [illustration: we wuz all invited to a garden party, gin by mr. and miss curzon.--page .] arvilly openly and often bewailed the loss of the one she loved next to waitstill webb; i wuzn't anywhere in arvilly's affections to what she wuz, though she sets store by me, and tommy cried himself to sleep many a night talking about her, and wonnerin' where she wuz, and if somebody wuz abusin' her, or if she wuz to the bottom of the ocean. why, he would rack my mind and pierce my heart so i would have to give him candy to get his mind off; i used pounds in that way, though i knew it wuz hurtful, but didn't know what to do. we often thought and spoke of poor lucia, too, and that poor broken-hearted father who wuz searching through the world for her and would never stop his mournful search till he found her, or till death found him, but our hearts didn't ache for her as they did for the loss of our own. martha wuz a kind, good girl, but she wuzn't aronette, our dear one, our lost one. she wuz jest a helper doin' her work and earnin' her wages, that wuz all, but she was good natured and offered to look after tommy, and we all went to the viceroy's reception and garden party and had a real good time. the palace of the viceroy is a beautiful structure. it is only two stories high, but each story full and running over with beauty. i d'no but the widder albert's house goes ahead of this, but it don't seem as if it could, it don't seem as if solomon's or the queen of sheba's could look any better. though of course i never neighbored with miss sheba, bein' considerable younger than she, and never got round to visit the widder albert, though i always wanted to, and spoze i disappointed her that year when i wuz in london, and kep' by business and p. martin smythe from visitin' her. miss curzon is a real handsome woman, and always wuz when she was a neighborin' girl, as you may say, in chicago, but the high position she's in now has gin nobility to her mean, and the mantilly of dignity she wears sets well on her. she seemed real glad to see me; she had hearn on me, so she said, and she said she had laughed some when she read my books, and had cried too, and i sez, "i hope you didn't cry because you felt obleeged to read 'em, or somebody made you." and she sez, "no," and she went on furder to say how they had soothed the trials of a relative, aged ninety, and had been a stay and solace to one of her pa's great aunts. and a bystander standin' by come up and introduced himself and said how much my books had done for some relations of his mother-in-law who had read 'em in sing sing and the tombs. and after considerable such interestin' and agreeable conversation miss curzon branched off and asked me if there wuz any new news at home. and i sez, "no; things are goin' in the same old way. your pa's folks are in good health so fur as i know, and the rest of the four hundred are so as to git about, for i hear on 'em to horse shows and huntin' foxes acrost the country and playin' tee or tee he." she said, "yes, golf wuz gettin' to be very popular in america." and i went on with what little news i could about the most important folks. sez i: "mr. and miss roosvelt are well, and well thought on. he is a manly man and a gentle gentleman. the sample of goodness, loyalty and common sense they are workin' out there in the white house ort to be copied by all married men and their wives. if they did the divorce lawyers would starve to death--or go into some other business. "i set store by 'em both. theodore tries to quell the big monopolies and look out for the people. i've advised him and he has follered my advice more or less. but you can't do everything in a minute, and the political bosses and the liquor power are rulin' things about the same as ever. big trusts are flourishin', capital covered with gold and diamonds is settin' on the bent back of labor, drivin' the poor critter where they want to, and the man with the hoe is hoein' away jest as usual and don't get the pay for it he'd ort to." and here arvilly broke in (she had been introduced), and sez she, "uncle sam is girdin' up his lions and stands with a chip on his shoulder ready to step up and take a round with any little republic that don't want to be benevolently assimilated." but i spoke right up, and sez, "he is a good-hearted creeter, uncle sam is, but needs a adviser time and agin, and not bein' willin' to let wimmen have a word to say, i d'no what will become on him; bime-by mebby he'll see that he had better hearn to me." jest then we hearn a bystander standin' nigh by us talkin' about the last news from russia, and i sez to miss curzon, "it is too bad about the war, hain't it?" and she sez, "yes indeed!" she felt dretful about it, i could see, and i sez, "so do i. you and i can't stop it, miss curzon; a few ambitious or quarrelsome or greedy politicians will make a war and then wimmen have to stand it. there hain't nothin' right in it, seein' they are half of the world, and men couldn't have got into the world at all if it hadn't been for wimmen, and then when wimmen has got 'em here, and took care on 'em till they can run alone, then they go to bossin' her round the first thing and makin' her no end of trouble, makin' wars and things." and she said she felt jest so, too. "but," sez i, "excuse me for introducin' personal and political matters on festive boards" (we wuz standin' on a kind of a platform built up on the green and velvety grass). sez i, "i am real glad to see you lookin' so well, and your companion, too." she did look handsome as a picter, and handsomer enough sight than some, chromos and such. and seein' that she had so many to talk to, i withdrawed myself, but as i kinder backed myself off i backed right into arvilly, who wuz takin' out the "twin crimes" out of her work-bag, and i sez, "arvilly, you shall not canvass miss curzon to-night." and she sez, "i'd like to see you stop me, josiah allen's wife, if i set out to do anything." she looked real beligerent. but i got her into a corner and appealed to her shiverly and pity, and finally i got her to put her book up in her work-bag. arvilly is good-hearted if you know how to manage her. i knew miss curzon would be tired enough to drop down before we all got away, without being canvassed, if she has got two hundred hired help in the house. well, we roamed along through the beautiful walks, sweet with perfume and balmy with flowers, brilliant with innumerable lights, and thronged with a gaily dressed crowd and the air throbbing with entrancing strains of music. robert strong looked noble and handsome that night; i wuz proud to think he belonged to our party. he didn't need uniforms and ribbons and stars and orders to proclaim his nobility, no more than his city of justice needed steeples. it shone out of his liniment so everybody could see it. it seemed that he and mr. curzon wuz old friends; they talked together like brothers. dorothy wuz as sweet as a posy in her pretty pink frock, trimmed with white rosies, and her big, white picture hat--the prettiest girl there, i thought; and i believe robert thought so, too--he acted as if he did. and miss meechim wuz in her element. the halls of the noble and gay wuz where her feet loved to linger. and she seemed to look up to me more than ever after she see my long interview with lady curzon, as she called her. josiah and i returned to our tarven, but the rest of the party wanted to stay some later. we wanted dretfully to go to benares, and on to agra so's to see that wonderful monument to wedded love--the taj mahal--i spoze the most beautiful building in the hull world; and certainly it is rared up to as noble a sentiment; and its being a kind of rareity, too, made me want to see it the worst kind. but we had loitered so on our travels that we had to hurry up a little in order to arrive at the paris exposition the fourth of july--united states day. i felt that i couldn't bear to git there any later and keep france a-waitin' for us, a-worryin' for fear we wouldn't git there at all, so we went post-haste from calcutta to bombay and from there to cairo and on to marseilles; though we laid out to stop long enough in cairo to take a tower in jerusalem. holy land, wuz i, indeed, to see thee? we wuz considerable tired when we got to bombay. the railroads in injy are not like the empire express; though, as we drew near bombay, the scenery wuz grand; some like our own sierra nevada's. only a few milds back from the railroad, tigers, panthers and all sorts of fierce animals wuz to home to callers, but we didn't try to visit 'em. at some places the trees along the road wuz full of monkeys, chatterin' and talkin' in their own language which they understood, so i spoze; and there wuz the most beautiful birds i ever saw. the climate wuz delightful, some like june days in dear jonesville. bombay is on an island, with many bridges connecting it to the mainland. we went to a tarven close to bombay bay; the wide verandas full of flowers and singin' birds made it pleasant. we got good things to eat here; oh, how josiah enjoyed the good roast beef and eggs and bread, most as good as jonesville bread. though it seemed kinder queer to me, and i don't think miss meechim and arvilly enjoyed it at all to have our chamber work done by barelegged men. i told josiah that i didn't know but i ort to have a ayah or maid whilst i wuz there, and he said with considerable justice that he guessed he could ayah me all that wuz necessary. and so he could, i didn't need no other chaperone. but the bombay ladies never stir out without their ayah, and ladies don't go out in the streets much anyway. the market here in bombay wuz the finest i ever see; it has a beautiful flower garden and park attached to it, and little rills of clear water run through the stun gutters. tropical fruit and vegetables of all kinds wuz to be seen here. the native market wimmen didn't have on any clothes hardly, but made it up in jewelry. some on 'em weighin' out beef to customers would have five or six long gold chains hanging down to their waist. bombay has a population of about a million, a good many english, some hindus, persians, chinese, siamese, turks, and about one-tenth are parsees, sun-worshippers. they are many of them wealthy and live in beautiful villas a little out of the city; they are very intelligent and firm friends of the english. the parsees dress in very rich silks and satin, the men in pantaloons of red or orange and long frocks of gorgeous colored silk; they wear high-pinted black caps, gold chains and rings and look dretful dressy. josiah loved their looks dearly, and he sez dreamily, "what a show such a costoom would make in jonesville; no circus ever went through there that would attract so much attention," and he added, "their idees about the sun hain't so fur out of the way. the sun duz give all the heat and light we have, and it is better to worship that than snakes and bulls." my land! had that man a idee of becomin' a parsee? i sez, "josiah allen, be you a methodist deacon, or be you not? are you a-backslidin' or hain't you?" sez i, "you had better ask the help of him who made the sun and the earth to keep you from wobblin'." he wuz real huffy and sez, "well, i say it, and stick to it, that it is better to worship the sun than it is to worship snakes," and come to think it over, i didn't know but it wuz. the parsees live together in big families of relations, sometimes fifty. they do not bury their dead, but put 'em up in high towers, called towers of silence. and i believe my soul that i'd ruther be put up in the sky than down in the mouldy earth. jest a little way from this tower of silence is the spot where the brahmans burn their dead; there are so many that the fires are kep' burnin' all the time. and a little ways off is the place where the english bury their dead. and i d'no but one way is as good as another. the pale shadder of the real tower of silence has fell on 'em all and silenced 'em. it don't make much difference what becomes of the husk that is wropped round the wheat. the freed soul soarin' off to its own place wouldn't care what become of the wornout garment it dropped in its flight. but to resoom: we all went out for a drive through the streets; josiah and i and arvilly and little tommy in a little two-wheeled cart settin' facin' each other drawed by two buffalo cows. robert and dorothy and miss meechim occupied another jest ahead on us. the driver sot on the tongue of the wagon, and would pull their tails instead of whippin' 'em when he wanted 'em to go faster. the cows' ears wuz all trimmed off with bells and gay streamers of cotton cloth, and their tails had big red bows on 'em, and josiah whispered to me: "you see, samantha, if i don't get some ear and tail trimmin' for old brindle and lineback when i git home; our cows are goin' to have some advantage of our tower if they couldn't travel with us. and," sez he, "what a show we could make, samantha, ridin' in to meetin' behind 'em; bells a-jinglin' and ribbins a-flyin', i dressed in a long silk frock and you all covered with jewelry." "well," sez i (wantin' to break up the idee to once), "if we do that, i must be buyin' some jewelry right away." "oh, samantha," sez he anxiously, "can't you take a joke? i wouldn't drive anything but the old mair for love or money. and your cameo pin is so beautiful and so becoming to you." we went by a good many parsees in that drive, and arvilly sez, "they look so rich somehow, i believe i shall try to canvass some on 'em." and that afternoon about sundown she seein' one on 'em goin' into a little garden she follered him in; he wuz dressed in such a gorgeous way that she wuz almost sure of a customer, but jest as she wuz gettin' the "twin crimes" out of her work-bag, he took off his outer frock, lain it down on the ground and knelt down, facin' the sunset, and sprinkled his head, breast and hands three times from a little dish he had with him, and then begun to pray and kep' up his devotions for half an hour, and arvilly of course not wantin' to break up a meetin' put her book into her work-bag and went away. i kinder like the idee of their worshippin' under the blue dome of heaven, though of course i didn't like their idee of worshippin' the created instead of the creator. in travellin' through these countries more and more every day did i feel to thank the lord that i wuz a member of the m. e. meetin' house in jonesville, u. s., a humble follower of him who went about doing good, but i didn't feel like goin' on as miss meechim did. how she did look down on the parsees and compared 'em to the piscopals to their immense disadvantage. but arvilly, the iconoclast, sez, "these parsees boast that there is not a pauper or woman of bad character in the hull of their sect, and i wonder if any other religious sect in america could say as much as that, miss meechim?" miss meechim turned her head away and sniffed some; she hates to enter into a argument with arvilly, but she wuz gittin' real worked up and i don't know how it would have ended, but i spoke right up and quoted some bible to 'em, thinkin' mebby that it might avert a storm. sez i, "charity vaunteth not itself. charity thinketh no evil, suffereth long and is kind." i meant both on 'em to take it, and i meant to take some on't myself. i knowed that i wuz sometimes a little hash with my beloved pardner. but a woman, if she don't want to be run over has to work every way to keep a man's naterel overbeariness quelled down. i worship him and he knows it, and if i didn't use headwork he would take advantage of that worship and tromple on me. but though arvilly didn't canvass the parsee, she sold several copies of the "twin crimes" to english residents who seemed to hail the idee of meeting a yankee book-agent in the orient with gladness. chapter xxii dorothy and miss meechim and robert strong went over to an island on the bay to see the caves of elephanta, the great underground temple, one hall of which is one hundred and fifty feet long, the lofty ceilin' supported by immense columns, and three smaller halls, the walls of all on 'em richly sculptured. whose hands made them statutes? i don't know nor josiah don't and i guess nobody duz. there wuz a thoughtful look on dorothy's sweet face when she came home, and robert strong too seemed walkin' in a reverie, but miss meechim wuz as pert as ever; it takes more than a cave to dant her. one place in bombay i liked first rate, a hospital for dumb animals, it is kep' by a sect called the jains. sick animals of all kinds are cared for: horses, cows, dogs, cats, rats and i spoze any ailin' creeter from a mouse up to a elephant is nursed with tender care. sez josiah, "no matter what her creed is, samantha, that jane is a good creeter and is doin' a great work, i would send the old mair here in a minute if she wuz took with consumption or janders or anythin', if it wuzn't so fur, and i'd tell jane jest how much i thought on her for her goodness." sez i, "josiah, it is a sect, not a female." but he wouldn't gin in and talks about jane a sight now when he recalls about the horrers of vivisection or when he sees animals abused and horses driv too hard and overloaded--he always sez: "i would like to have jane see that, i guess jane would put a stop to that pretty lively." well, it shows josiah's good heart. the hindus have several temples in bombay. one of the great days is the festival of the serpents. snake charmers bring to this place the deadly snakes which are then fed to propitiate them, by the priests, i spoze. oh, how miss meechim went on about the idee of worshippin' snakes, and it wuz perfectly dretful to me too, i must confess. but arvilly always puttin' her oar in and always hash on our govermunt, sez: "why, what is this different from what we do in america?" miss meechim's eyes snapped, she wuz madder than a wet hen, but arvilly went on, "every 'lection time hain't the great serpent of the liquor power fed and pampered by the law-makers of our country?" miss meechim didn't reply; i guess she dassent, and i didn't say anything, and arvilly went on: "our serpent worship is as bad agin as these hindus', for after their snakes are fed and worshipped they shet 'em up agin so they can't do any harm. but after lawmakers propitiate the serpent with money and influence, they let it loose to wreathe round the bright young lives and noble manhood and crunch and destroy 'em in its deadly folds, leavin' the slime of agony and death in its tracks all over our country from north to south, east to west. it don't look well after all this for an american to act horrified at feedin' a snake a little milk and shettin' it up in a box." she wuz fairly shakin' with indignation, and miss meechim dast as well die as dispute her agin. and i didn't say a word to harrer her up any more, for i knew well what she had went through. we only stayed a few days in bombay, and then took the steamer and went straight acrost the arabian sea, stopping at aden for a little while, and then up the red sea; on one side on us, arabia, and on the other, africa. aden, where we stopped for a short time, is a dreary lookin' little place with seventy or eighty thousand natives livin' a little back from the shore, while the few english people there live near the coast. beautiful ostrich feathers are obtained there from the many ostrich farmers living near, as well as the mocha coffee, which made over a jonesville stove by a jonesville woman has so often cheered the heart and put to flight the worrisome passions of a josiah. but in most of these tropical countries, where you'd think you could git the best, i didn't find coffee half so good as i made it myself, though mebby i ortn't to say it. we saw some wonderful jugglers here. they will draw out great bunches of natural flowers from most anywhere that you wouldn't expect 'em to be, and call birds down or out of some place onseen by us; mebby they come from the mysterious gardens of a carabi's home, and those great bunches of roses, i d'no from what invisible rose bushes they wuz picked; mebby they growed up tall and stately on either side of the ether avenues that surround us on every side. mebby carabi lives right under the shade of some on 'em, but 'tennyrate some of these flowers they made out of nothin' i took right into my hands, great, soft, dewy roses, with seemin'ly the same dew and perfume on 'em they have when picked in our earthly gardens. and we saw some wonderful divers there; they did such strange things that it wuz fairly skairful to see 'em. if you would throw a small coin down into the water, they would dive way down, down with both hands full of balls and bring up the coin in their teeth, showing that they picked it up offen the bottom without touching their hands to it. good land! i couldn't do it to save my life in our cistern or wash bowl, let alone the deep, deep sea. as we entered the red sea we passed through the narrer channel called the straits of bab-el-mandeb, gate of tears, named so on account of the many axidents that have happened there. but we got through safely and sailed on towards suez. so we went on past the coasts of abyssinia, nubia. fur off we see mount sineii, sacred mount, where the law wuz given to moses. oh, my soul, think on't! to see the very spot where moses stood and talked to the almighty face to face. it is only three hundred milds from suez. we sailed directly over the place where the israelites passed over dry shod whilst their enemies, the egyptians, wuz overwhelmed by the waters. the persecuted triumphant and walkin' a-foot into safety, while tyranny and oppression wuz drownded. i wish them waters wuz swashin' up to-day and closin' in on the oppressor, not to drownd 'em, mebby, but to give 'em a pretty good duckin'. but i spoze the walls of water like as not is risin' on each side on 'em onbeknown to them, and when the time comes, when the bugle sounds, they will rush in and overwhelm the armies of greed and tyranny and the oppressed. them that are forced to make brick without straw, or without sand hardly, will be free, and go on rejoicin' into the land of promise. but to resoom: it is three thousand milds from bombay to suez, but it wuz all safely passed and we found ourselves in cairo in a most comfortable hotel, and felt after all our wanderings in fur off lands that we agin breathed the air of civilization almost equal to jonesville. we found some letters here from home. i had a letter from tirzah ann and one from thomas jefferson. his letter wuz full of gratitude to heaven and his ma for his dear little boy's restored strength and health. he and maggie wuz lookin' and waitin' with eager hearts and open arms to greet us, and the time wuz long to 'em i could see, though he didn't say so. tirzah ann's letter contained strange news of our neighbor, miss deacon sypher. her devotion to her husband has been told by me more formally, it is worthy the pen of poet and historian. she lived and breathed in the deacon, marked all her clothes, m. d. s., miss deacon sypher. her hull atmosphere wuz deacon, her goal wuz his happiness, her heaven his presence. well, a year ago she got hurt on the sidewalk to jonesville, and the deacon sued the village and got five hundred dollars for her broken leg. he took the money and went out to the ohio on a pleasure trip, and to visit some old neighbors. it made talk, for folks said that when she worshipped him so he ort to stayed by her, but he hired she that wuz betsy bobbett to stay with her, and he went off on this pleasure trip and had a splendid good time, and with the rest of the money he bought a span of mules. miss sypher wuz deadly afraid of 'em. but the deacon wanted 'em, and so they made her happily agonized, she wuz so afraid of their heels and their brays, and so highly tickled with the deacon's joy. well, it turned out queer as a dog, but just after we started on our trip abroad tirzah said that the deacon fell and broke his leg in the same place and the same spot on the sidewalk; the jonesvillians are slack, it wuzn't mended proper. and miss sypher thought that she would git some money jest as he did. she didn't think on't for quite a spell, tirzah writ. she wuz so bound up in the deacon and never left his side night or day, nor took off her clothes only to wash 'em for two weeks, jest bent over his couch and drowged round waitin' on him, for he wuz dretful notional and hard to git along with. but she loved to be jawed at, dearly, for she said it made her think he would git along, and when he would find fault with her and throw things, she smiled gladly, thinkin' it wuz a good sign. well, when he got a little better so she could lay down herself and rest a little, the thought come to her that she would git some money for his broken leg jest as he had for hern. she thought that she would like to buy him a suit of very nice clothes and a gold chain, and build a mule barn for the mules, but the law wouldn't give miss deacon sypher a cent; the law said that if anything wuz gin it would go to the deacon's next of kin, a brother who lived way off in the michigan. the deacon owned her bones, but she didn't own the deacon's! and i wonnered at it as much as tommy ever wonnered over anything why her broken limb, and all the emoluments from it, belonged to him, and his broken leg and the proprietary rights in it belonged to a man way out in the michigan that he hadn't seen for ten years and didn't speke to (owin' to trouble about property), and after miss deacon sypher had worshipped him and waited on him for thirty years like a happy surf. well, so it wuz. i said it seemed queer, but arvilly said that it wuzn't queer at all. she sez: "one of my letters from home to-day had a worse case in it than that." sez she, "you remember willie henzy, deacon henzy's grandchild, in brooklyn. you know how he got run over and killed by a trolley car." "yes," sez i, "sweet little creeter; sister henzy told me about it with the tears runnin' down her cheeks. they all worshipped that child, he wuz jest as pretty and bright as he could be, and he wuz the only boy amongst all the grandchildren; it is a blow deacon henzy will never git over. and his ma went into one faintin' fit after another when he wuz brought home, and will never be a well woman agin, and his pa's hair in three months grew gray as a rat; it 'most killed all on 'em." "well," sez arvilly, "what verdict do you think that fool brought in?" "what fool?" sez i. "the law!" sez arvilly sternly. "the judge brought in a verdict of one dollar damages; it said that children wuzn't wage-earners and therefore they wuzn't worth any more." i throwed my arms 'round tommy onbeknown to me, and sez i, "millions and millions of money wouldn't pay your grandma for you." and tommy wonnered and wonnered that a little boy's life wuzn't worth more than a dollar. "why," sez i, "the law gives twenty dollars for a two-year-old heifer." "yes," sez arvilly, "the law don't reckon willie henzy's life worth so much as a yearlin' calf or a dog. but they can do jest as they please; these great monopolies have spun their golden web round politicians and office-seekers and office-holders and rule the whole country. they can set their own valuation on life and limb, and every dollar they can save in bruised flesh and death and agony, is one more dollar to divide amongst the stockholders." "well," sez i, "we mustn't forgit to be megum, arvilly; we mustn't forgit in our indignation all the good they do carryin' folks from hether to yon for almost nothin'." "well, they no need to act more heartless than nero or king herod. i don't believe that old nero himself would done this; i believe he would gin two dollars for willie henzy." and i sez, "i never neighbored with mr. nero. but if i could git holt of that judge," sez i, "he would remember it to his dyin' day." "he wouldn't care for what you said," sez arvilly; "he got his pay. there hain't any of these big monopolies got any more soul than a stun-boat." it is only nine hours from suez to cairo. how often have i spoke of the great desert of sarah in hours of jonesville mirth and sadness, little thinkin' that i should ever cross it in this mortal spear, but we did pass through a corner on't and had a good view of the suez canal, about which so much has been said and done. for milds we went through the valley of the nile, that great wet nurse of egypt. the banks on either side on't stand dressed in livin' green. there wuz a good many american and english people at the tarven in cairo, but no one we knew. in the garden at the side of the tarven wuz a ostrich pen where a number of great ostriches wuz kep', and also several pelicans walked round in another part of the garden. tommy and i stood by the winder, very much interested in watchin' the ostriches, and though i hain't covetous or proud, yet i did wish i had one or two of them satiny, curly feathers to trim my best bunnet in jonesville, they went so fur ahead of any sisters in the meetin' house. josiah hadn't see 'em yet; he wuz layin' on the lounge, but he sez: "i don't see why you're so took up with them geese." "geese!" sez i; "look here, josiah allen"--and i took a cookie i had got for tommy--"see here; see me feed these geese ten feet from the ground." he could see their heads come up to take it out of my hand. "good land!" sez he, "you don't say they stretch their necks clear up here." and he jined in our astonishment then and proposed that he should be let down from the winder in a sheet and git me a few feathers. but i rejected the idee to once. i sez: "i'd ruther go featherless for life than to have a pardner commit rapine for 'em." and he sez: "if some egyptian come to jonesville and wanted a rooster's tail feather, we wouldn't say nuthin' aginst it." but i sez: "this is different; this would spile the looks of the ostriches." and he said there wuz sunthin' said in the bible about "spilin' the egyptians." but i wouldn't let him wrest the scripters to his own destruction, and told him i wouldn't, and then sez i, "i never could enjoy religion settin' under a stolen feather." as you pass through these picturesque streets memories of them that have made this city historic crowd upon your mind. you think of saladin, christian, mameluke and islamite. you think of the bible and you think of the "arabian nights," and you almost expect to see the enchanted carpet layin' round somewhere, and some one goin' up to the close shet doors sayin', "open sesame." and as you stroll along you will hear every language under the sun, or so it seems, and meet english, italian, french, bedowins, soldiers, footmen, turks, arabs, all dressed in their native costumes. anon close shet up carriages in which you most know there are beautiful wimmen peerin' out of some little corner onbeknown to their folks; agin you meet a weddin' procession, then a trolley car, then some egyptian troops, then some merchants, then mysterious lookin' oriental wimmen, with black veils hangin' loose, then a woman with a donkey loaded with fowls, then some more soldiers in handsome uniform. agin every eye is turned to see some high official or native prince dressed in splendid array dashin' along in a carriage with footmen runnin' on before to clear the way. and mebby right after comes a man drivin' a flock of turkeys, they feelin' jest as important and high-headed to all appearance. the air is delightful here, dry and warm. no malaria in egypt, though nigh by are sulphur baths for anybody that wants them, and also a cure for consumptive folks. in goin' through the streets of cairo you will see bazars everywhere; slipper bazars, carpet and rug, vase and candle, and jewelry bazars; little shops where everything can be bought are all on sides of you. but if you go to buy anything you get so confused as to the different worth of a piaster that your head turns. in some transactions it is as much agin as in others. josiah got dretful worked up tryin' to buy a silk handkerchief. sez he to the dealer: "what do you mean by it, you dishonest tike, you? if you should come to jonesville to buy a overcoat or a pair of boots, and we should wiggle round and act as you do, i wouldn't blame you if you never come there to trade a cent with us agin." the man kep' bowin' real polite and offered some coffee to him and a pipe, and josiah sez: "i don't want none of your coffee, nor none of your pipes, i want honesty, and i can tell you one thing that you've lost my trade, and you'll lose the hull of the jonesville trade when i go home and tell the brethren how slippery you be in a bargain." the man kep' on bowin' and smilin' and i told josiah, "i presoom he thinks you're praisin' him; he acts as if he did." and josiah stopped talkin' in a minute. but howsumever he wouldn't take the handkerchief. miss meechim and i--and i spoze that robert strong wuz to the bottom of it--but 'tennyrate, we wuz invited to a harem to see a princess, wife of a pasha. robert thought that we should like to see the inside of an indian prince's palace, and so we did. miss meechim of course woudn't consent to let dorothy go anywhere nigh such a place, and i guess she disinfected her clothes before she see dorothy when she got back; 'tennyrate, i see her winder up and her dress hangin' over a chair. arvilly didn't want to go, and as she wuzn't invited, it made it real convenient for her to not want to. and of course i couldn't take my pardner. why, that good, moral man would be flowed from by them wimmen as if he had the plague. dorothy and robert wuz a-goin' to heliopolis and offered to take tommy with 'em. and miss meechim and i accordin'ly sot off alone. the palace stood in beautiful grounds and is a noble-lookin' building. we wuz met at the entrance to the garden by four handsome native girls with beautiful silk dresses on, handsome turbans, satin slippers and jewelry enough for a dozen wimmen. they took our hands, each on us walkin' between two on 'em, for all the world as if we wuz prisoners, till we got to the gates of the palace, and here two black males, dressed as rich as a president or minister, met us, and four more gayly dressed female slaves. these girls took miss meechim's cape and my mantilly and laid 'em away. then we went through a long hall and up a magnificent marble staircase, with a girl on each side on us agin jest as if we wuz bein' took to jail. we then went into a large beautiful room where the princess' lady of honor wuz tryin', i spoze, to be jest as honorable as she could be. but to my surprise she handed us the first thing some coffee and pipes to smoke. but such a pipe never entered jonesville. why, the pipe stem was six feet long, amber and gold, diamonds and rubies. good land! it wuz most enough to get a perfessor and a member of the w.c.t.u. to smokin'. but i wuzn't to be enticed; i sort o' waved it off graceful and drinked a little coffee, which wuz good, and if you'll believe it the little holders that held our cups wuz all covered with diamonds. then six more slaves, jest as pretty, with jest as fine clothes and with as many jewels, came to tell us the princess would see us. and we went with them through room after room, each one seemin'ly more elegant than the others, till we reached the door of a great grand apartment, and here the princess wuz surrounded by more slaves, dressed handsomer than any we'd seen yet. she come forward to meet us and led the way to a beautiful divan, where we sot down. here they offered us some more of the beautiful jewelled pipes agin, and agin i stood firm and so did miss meechim, but the princess smoked a little. but the tobacco wuz perfumed so delightfully that there wuz no tobacco smell to it. then coffee wuz passed agin in a jewelled cup and agin i sipped a little on't, thinkin' like as not it would keep me awake it wuz so strong, but knowin' that i had got to be polite anyway in such a time as this. she talked quite good english and we had a pleasant visit with her, and anon she took each on us by the hand--for all the world they acted as if we wuz infants and couldn't walk alone--and led us through the magnificent rooms with lofty mirrors, furniture covered with costly persian cloth embroidered with gold and silver, great rugs of the most exquisite color and texture, mounds of flowers, baskets and vases everywhere running over with them, makin' the air sweet with their perfume. in one room there wuz no winders, the walls bein' made of glitterin' mirrors sot in gilded frames, light comin' down through stained glass in the gilded ceiling. on the princess' toilet table wuz a large gold tray holdin' a basin of perfumed water, and white silk towels embroidered in gold and silver. i remembered my crash and huck-a-buck towels and thought to myself i didn't know what she would do if she ever come to see me, unless i took one of josiah's silk handkerchiefs for her to wipe her hands on. but concluded i would do that if she ever paid my visit. and i thought the minute i got home i would paint the bowl of the pipe we had used for tizik, a pale blue or pink, and dry some extra fine mullen leaves and catnip blows, they smell real sweet to me, and i knew they would be good for her bronkial tubes anyway. and i laid out to make up in a warm welcome what we lacked in luxury. well, the last room we went into we wuz served in tiny cups with a delicate drink. lemonade, i guess it wuz, or orange and fruit juice of some kind. it wuz served to us in jewelled cups and we had gold embroidered napkins. here the princess thanked us for our visit and retired, followed by the slaves who had gone with us through the palace. and we went down the staircase with a girl on each side on us jest as we went up, so if miss meechim and i had had any mind to break away and act, we couldn't, and went to our carriage waited on jest as when we come. miss meechim said as we started back: "did you ever see the like? was you prepared to see such magnificence, josiah allen's wife?" and i told her i wuz partly prepared, for i had read the arabian night's entertainment. "well," sez she, "it goes fur beyend my wildest dreams of luxury." when we got back to the tarven we found that robert strong had been delayed by a visitor and wuz jest startin' for heliopolis, and miss meechim and i bein' all ready we turned round and went with 'em. heliopolis hain't so grand lookin' as its name. it is a little arab town six miles from cairo. the low houses are made of mud and nasty inside, i believe; they don't look much like jonesville houses. the oldest and greatest college once stood here. here, too, wuz the hant of that immortal bird, the phenix, who raised himself to life every five hundred years. (josiah don't believe a word on't, and i don't know as i do.) but we do spoze that wuz the very place where joseph married the daughter of mr. potiphar, doin' dretful well, it wuz spozed by her folks, but he wuz plenty good enough for her, i think, and so josiah duz. and right in this neighborhood alexander the great marched round and camped on his way to memphis. so you can see it wuz interestin' in a good many ways. but the virgin's tree wuz what we wanted to see. it is a fig sycamore; its trunk is twenty feet in diameter and its branches spread out and cover a great space. but its size wuzn't what we went to see. under this tree joseph and mary rested whilst they wuz fleeing to egypt from them that sought the young child's life. our lord himself had been under this very tree that wuz bendin' over me. my emotions wuz such that i didn't want any on 'em to see my face; i went apart from 'em and sot down on a little seat not fur off from the fence that protects this tree from relic hunters. and i had a large number of emotions as i sot there lookin' up into the green branches. i wondered how mary felt as she sot there. she knowed she wuz carryin' a sacred burden on her bosom. the star that had guided the wise men to the cradle of her baby had shone full into his face and she'd seen the divinity there. angels had heralded his birth; the frightened king looked upon him as one who would take his kingdom from him, and an angel had bidden them to take the child and flee to egypt. and how happy joseph and mary wuz as they sot down under this tree. all their journey over the weary rocky roads, over the mountains, through the streams and the valleys, and over the sandy desert they dassent rest, but wuz lookin' behind 'em all the time as they pressed forward, expectin' to hear the gallopin' steeds of the king, and to hear the cruel cries of his blood-thirsty soldiers. why, just think on't: every other baby boy in the country put to death jest to be sure of makin' way with the child that she held to her bosom. how would any mother have felt; how would any mother's heart beat and soul faint within 'em as they plodded away on a donkey, knowin' that the swiftest horses of the king wuz mebby follerin' clost behind? but it wuz all past now; under the shade of this noble old tree mary sot down, happiness in her tired eyes, ontold relief in the weary heart on which the child leaned. i believe they laid down there under the starry heavens and went to sleep; mebby the star shone down on 'em as they slep', seein' they wuz safe now and herod couldn't touch 'em even if he wuz clost to 'em. egypt, blessed be thy turf and thy skies forever more, since thou hast sheltered the lord! and while back in jerusalem the blood-thirsty soldiers wuz rushin' to and fro seekin' for the young child that they might destroy him, and in his palace king herod lay in troubled sleep under the close-drawn curtains of the royal couch, slaves watchin' outside the room, slaves watchin' his fearful thorn-strewn pillow, the little child that he feared and sought to destroy, slept with the clear midnight sky bendin' over his sweet slumber, its matchless blue curtain looped up with stars, hung with the great silver night lamp of the crescent moon. his bed-chamber the broad plains and mountains and valleys of the world which should yet own his peaceful sway. his guard the shining angels that had flown down to herald his coming on the fields of bethlehem. sleep well, little child, with thy kingdom outstretched about thee, the hull grief-smitten world, upon which thou wast to lay thy hands and heal its woes and wounds. the divine clothin' itself in the sad garments of humanity that it might lift it up into heavenly heights. well, we stayed there quite a spell. robert, i could see, felt a good deal as i did and so did dorothy; i read in her sweet eyes the tender light that meant many things. but miss meechim had doubts about the tree. she looked all round it, and felt of the low, droopin' branches and looked clost at the bark. she is a great case for the bark of things, miss meechim is, you know some be. they will set their microscopes on a little mite of bark and argy for hours about it, but don't think of the life that is goin' on underneath. the divine vitality of truth that animates the hidden soul of things. they think more of the creeds, the outward husks of things than the inside life and truth. miss meechim said with her eye still on the bark that no tree could live two centuries and still look so vigorous. but i sez, "mount sinai looks pretty firm and stiddy, and the red sea i spoze looks jest about as red and hearty as it did when the israelites crossed it." she wuz examinin' the bark through her eye glasses, but she said mountains and seas could stand more than a tree and i said i guessed the hand that made a tree could keep it alive. and i knew that it didn't make any difference anyway. this wuz the road they come and they had to rest anyway, and it stood to reason they would rest under a tree, and i felt that this wuz the tree, though it might have been another one nigh by. and while miss meechim's mind was all taken up lookin' at the bark of that tree, my mind wuz full of this great fact and truth, that the child wuz saved from his enemies. and while the kingdom of the wicked king has been covered and lost from sight under the sands of time for centuries, the kingdom of the holy child stands firmer to-day than ever before, and is broadening and widening all the time, teaching the true brotherhood of man, and fatherhood of god. this is the great truth, all the branching creeds and arguments and isms, they are only the bark. nigh by the tree stands a tall piller sixty-four feet high, covered with strange writin'. as i looked at it i thought i would gin a dollar bill to have read that writin', no knowin' what strange secrets of the past would have been revealed to me. but i couldn't read it, it is dretful writin'. josiah sometimes makes fun of my handwritin' and calls it ducks' tracks, but i thought that if he'd seen this he'd thought that mine wuz like print compared to it. they say that this is the oldest obelisk in egypt, and that is sayin' a good deal, for egypt is full of former greatness old as the hills. here in the east civilization begun, and gradual, gradual it stalked along towards the west, and is slowly, slowly marchin' on round the world back to where it started from, and when the round world is belted with knowledge and christianity, then mebby will come the thousand years of peace, the millennium the scriptures have foretold, when the lamb shall lay down with the lion and a young child shall lead them. i spoze the young child means the baby peace that shall bime-by lead the nations along into the world beautiful. and there shall be no more war. chapter xxiii cairo is different from any other city under the sun, and after you've been there when you shet you eyes and see it agin in memory, the brilliant colorin' sheds its picturesque glow over the brilliant seen. the deep bright blue of the sky, the splendor of the sunlight, the dazzlin' white of the buildings, the soft mellow brown of the desert and the green of the tropical foliage always comes back to brighten the panorama. and the crowds of people from all parts of the world, each dressed in his and her natural costume, every style of dress and every color under the sun. and the milds of bazars, little booths about ten feet square but all runnin' over with the richest embroideries, silken fabrics, gold, silver, amber and everything else gorgeous. then there is the new part of cairo, the broad, long streets lined with magnificent buildin's. the great citadel of cairo and the alabaster mosque up on a rocky height, six hundred feet above the city. the citadel wuz built by saladin in , most a thousand years ago. where is mr. saladin and his folks? and his dynasty? all forgot centuries ago, but the work he thought out is here still. the mosque is the only building' in the world built of alabaster; it wuz begun by mehemet ali, the great-grandfather of the khedive. the alabaster looks like satin, amber and white color, mebby some of my readers have got a little alabaster box or figger that they set store by, it is so costly and fine. then think of a hull buildin' three hundred feet square built of it. the ruff is uplifted by alabaster columns; the alabaster galleries are a hundred feet above the floor. the gilded dome can be seen twenty or thirty milds away. the view from the terrace in front is so beautiful that you don't want to leave it. the city lies before you and a long view of the nile, rich gardens, green fields, towering palms, the pyramids standin' like ghosts out of the past, memphis, oldest city of the world. turn your head and there is the land of goshen; how many times amidst the overwhelmin' cares of a jonesville kitchen have we mentioned "land of goshen," but solemn now to look at and contemplate as the home of the patriarchs. only two milds off down the nile is the spot where napoleon fought with the mamelukes and won the battle of the pyramids. and jest under you as you look down, you see the ruff of the egyptian museum where the body of ramesis lays, once rulin' with a high hand he and his folks, as many as a dozen of 'em, over all the land our stranger eyes looked down on. but now they're nothin' but a side show, as you may say in a museum. josiah wuz dretful took with the sights of shops on either side of the narrow streets of old cairo and all sorts of trades bein' carried on there right out doors: goldsmiths and silversmiths makin' their jewelry right there before you, and josiah sez: "i lay out to have a shop rigged out doors to hum and make brooms and feather dusters; and why don't you, samantha; how uneek it would be for you to have your sewin'-machine or your quiltin'-frames in the corner of the fence between us and old bobbett's, and have a bedquilt or a crazy blanket draped behind you on the fence. you could have a kind of a turban if you wanted to; i would lend you one of my bandannas. i'm goin' to wear 'em in my bazar when i rig one up, and my dressin'-gown, and i shall have ury wear one and sandals. i can make some crackin' good sandals for us all out of shingles, and lace 'em on with colored ribbins. how dressy they will make me look. i shall lace my sandals on with yeller and red baby ribbin, them colors are so becomin' and make my complexion look fairer. we shall jest coin money out of my bazar, and i shall write to ury to put in a piece of broom corn, and mebby we shall make jewelry; we could make some good mournin' jewelry out of coal and lam-black." well, i didn't argy with him, thinkin' most probable that he'd forgit it, but arvilly, who wuz with us, sez: "i guess it would be mournin' jewelry in good earnest if you made it; i guess it would make anybody mourn to see it, let alone wearin' it." "wait till you see it," sez he. and she sez, "i am perfectly willin' to wait." "but i shan't set on the floor as they do here," sez he, "i am sorry for some of them poor old men that can't afford chairs, and i would be perfectly willin' to make 'em some stools if they'd furnish the lumber." sez i, "it's their way, josiah, they like it." "i don't believe it," sez he; "nobody loves to scrooch down flat with their legs under 'em numb as sticks." but right whilst we were talkin' we met a funeral procession. the head one had hard work to git through the crowd crying out: "there is no deity but god! mohammed is his apostle!" then come some boys singin' a funeral him; and then the bier, borne by friends of the corpse and covered by a handsome shawl. then come the hired mourners--wimmen--for i spoze they think they're used to mournin' and can earn their money better. 'tennyrate, these screeched and wailed and tore their hair and beat their breast-bone as if they meant to earn their money. then come the relatives and friends. of course, they no need to have wep' a tear, havin' hired it done. but they did seem to feel real bad, they couldn't have wept and wailed any more if they had been hired to. josiah sez: "samantha, when i'm took, if you hire anybody to mourn get some better lookin' females than these. i had almost ruther die onlamented than to have such lookin' creeters weepin' over my remains; now some fair lookin' females such as sister celestine bobbett and she that wuz submit tewksbury----" but i interrupted him by telling him truly that no hired tears would fall on his beloved face if i outlived him, and no boughten groans would be hearn. sez i, "the tears of true love and grief would bedew your forward." "well," sez he, "it would be my wishes." as we wended our way along we met several water-carriers with leather bottles, jest such a one as hagar took with her and ishmael out in the desert, and it wuz on this same desert whose sands wuz siftin' in about us every chance it had that she lay the child down to die and angels come and fed him. and, also, it bein' along towards night we met several shepherds; one wuz carryin' a tired lamb in his arms. they wuz patriarkal in appearance and dressed jest like the bible pictures. i felt as though i had met abraham or isaac onbeknown to them. another sight that impressed my pardner fearfully wuz the howlin' dervishes--we'd hearn about 'em a sight, and so we thought we would go and hear 'em howl. by payin' a little backsheesh (which is money) we got permission to attend one of their religious meetin's. there wuz a chief or sheik, which josiah always called a "shack"--and i d'no but he wuz well named--and about twenty or thirty howlers in long white robes. they made a low bow to the shack and then knelt round him in a circle; then they bowed agin a number of times clear to the floor and begun to sing or pray. i d'no what you would call it, but the axents wuz dretful and the music that accompanied it harrowin' in the extreme. then they got up and bowed agin to the shack and begun to shake their heads and their arms and their feet rapid and voylent, all keepin' time to the music, or what i spoze they called music, their hair hangin' loose, their yellin' fearful, and then they begun to whirl like a top spinnin' round, faster and faster, whirlin' and howlin' and shriekin' till they couldn't howl or whirl any longer. then the meetin' broke up as you may say, they formed a half circle agin round the shack, bowed to the ground before him and fell down perfectly wore out on the floor. i should have thought they'd died. why, i couldn't have stood it and lived nor josiah couldn't; it wuz all we could stand to see it go on. one day miss meechim and i visited an american mission school for arab and egyptian children, and it wuz from one of these very schools that one of the rajahs or native princes took his wife. she wuz a little donkey driver, and the teacher of the mission, liking her and pitying her, got permission of her mother (a poor donkey driver of cairo living in a mud hut) to take the child into her school. when she wuz about fourteen years old the rajah, who had accepted the christian religion, visited this school, and the little girl wuz teaching a class of barefooted egyptian girls, sittin' on the floor about her. who can tell the mysteries of love? like lightning it strikes where it will and must. why should this prince, educated in england, a friend of queen victoria, who had seen beautiful women all his days onmoved, why should he fall in love with this little girl, late a donkey driver in the streets of cairo? i d'no, but so it wuz, and he told the lady in charge of the school that he wanted to make her his wife. she wuz greatly surprised, and not knowin' he wuz what he said he wuz, asked him polite to go away and select some other bride. but the next day he come back, sent in his card and a autograph letter from queen victoria, and agin expressed his desire to marry the bright-eyed little egyptian. when the subject wuz broached to her she wep' and pleaded not to be sold into slavery, spozin' that wuz what it meant. but the prince made her understand that he wanted her for his wife, and she consented to be educated in a fitting manner, and at last the weddin' took place at the home of the teacher. the prince took his wife to london, where she wuz presented at court, and makes him a good wife, so fur as i know, and they say she's dretful good to the poor; 'tennyrate the prince must think a good deal of her, for he presented every year one thousand pounds to help on the school where he found his princess. this story is true and is stranger than most lies. i spoze that from that time on all the dark-eyed little egyptian maids in that school wuz lookin' out anxiously to see some prince comin' in and claim 'em and make a royal princess of 'em. but one swallow don't make a spring; i don't spoze there has been or will be agin such a romance. josiah said that we must not leave cairo without seein' pharo. josiah said he felt real well acquainted with him, havin' read about him so much. sez he, "he wuz a mean creeter as ever trod shoe-leather and i'd love to tell him so." they keep him in the museum of cairo now, a purpose, i spoze, to scare folks from doin' what he did, for a humblier lookin' creeter i never see, and hard lookin'; i don't wonder a mite at the bad things i've hearn tell on him; why, a man that looked like that wuz sure to be mean as pusley. he looked as if he wuz bein' plagued now with every single plague that fell on him for his cruelty and i d'no but he is. i wonder that the israelites got along with him so long as they did; josiah wouldn't have stood it a week, he's that quick-tempered and despises the idee of bein' bossed round, and how pharo did drive them poor children of israel round; ground 'em right down to his terms, wouldn't let 'em say their soul wuz their own, worked 'em most to death, half starved 'em, wouldn't give 'em any rights, not a single right. but as i sez to josiah, he got his come-up-ance for his heartless cruelty, he got plagued enough and drownded in the bargain. he's a mummy now. yes, as josiah sez when he looked on him: "you've got to be mum now, no givin' orders to your poor overworked hired help in your brick-fields, not lettin' 'em have even a straw that they begged for to lighten their burden. the descendants of them folks you driv round can stand here and poke fun at you all day and you've got to keep your mouth shet. yes," sez he, "you've got to a place now where you can't be yellin' out your orders, you've got to be mum, for you're a mummy." i didn't love to have josiah stand and sass pharo right to his face, but it seemed so gratifyin' to him i hated to break it up, and i felt towards him jest as he did, and arvilly and miss meechim felt jest as we did about it; they loathed his looks, hatin' what he'd done so bad. but i thought from what i hearn robert strong sayin' to dorothy that he had doubts about his being the real bible pharo, there wuz quite a lot of them kings by the same name, you know. but miss meechim hearn him and assured him that this was the very pharo who so cruelly tortured the israelites and who was drownded by the lord for his cruelty, she knew it by her feelings. and she said she was so glad that she had seen for herself the great truth that the pharo spirit of injustice and cruelty wuz crushed forever. but robert said that pharo's cruelty sprang from unlimited power and from havin' absolute control over a weaker and helpless class; he said that would arouse the pharo spirit in any man. that spirit, he said, was creeping into our american nation, the great trusts and monopolies formed for the enrichment of the few and the poverty of the many; what are they but the pharo spirit of personal luxury and greed and dominion over the poor? i knew he was thinkin' of his city of justice, where every man had the opportunity to work and the just reward of his labor, where charity (a good creeter charity is too) stayed in the background, not bein' needed here, and justice walked in her place. where justice and labor walked hand in hand into ways of pleasantness and paths of peace. he didn't say nothin' about his own doin's, it wuzn't his way, but i hearn him say to dorothy: "the voice is speaking now to america as it did to egypt, let my people go, out of their helpless bondage and poverty into better, more just and humane ways, but america doesn't listen. the rich stand on the piled up pyramid of the poor, capital enslaves labor and drives it with the iron bit of remorseless power and the sharp spur of necessity where it will. but there must be a day of reckoning; the voice will be heard, if not in peace with the sword: 'for the few shall not forever sway the many toil in sorrow, we'll sow the golden grain to-day, the harvest comes to-morrow.'" but the greatest sight in cairo and mebby the hull world is the pyramaids. i d'no as i had so many emotions in the same length of time durin' my hull tower as i did lookin' at them immense structures. it don't seem as if they wuz made by man; they seem more like mountains placed there by the same hand that made the everlastin' hills. they say that it took three hundred thousand men twenty years to build the biggest one. and i don't doubt it. if i had been asked to draw up specifications i wouldn't have took the job for a day's work less. why, they say it took ten years to build the road over which them stuns wuz brought from the nile, and good land! how did they ever do it? no hands nor no machinery that we know anything about at the present day could move one of them stuns, let alone bringin' 'em from heaven knows where. they couldn't have been got into any boat, and how did they do it? i d'no nor josiah don't. mebby the sphynx knows, most probable she duz, but she's a female that don't git herself into trouble talkin' and gossipin'. lots of wimmen would do well to foller her example. from the first minute we got to cairo and long enough before that we had lotted on seein' the pyramaids, josiah had talked about 'em a sight, and told me time and agin that he did want to see the spink, he had got to see the spink. sez i, "you mean the sphynx, josiah." "yes," sez he, "the spink; i'm bound to see that. i want to tell deacon henzy and brother bobbett about it; they crowed over me quite a little after they went to loontown to see them views of the spink and the pyramaid of chops. you know i wuz bed-sick at the time with a crick in my back. i guess they'll have to quirl down a little when i tell 'em i've walked round the spink and seen old chops with my own eyes." well, i know lots of folks travel with no higher aim than to tell their exploits, so i didn't argy with him. and the hull party of us sot off one pleasant day to view them wonders; they're only six miles from cairo. the pyramaid of cheops is higher than any structure in europe; the strassburg cathedral is the highest--that is four hundred and sixty feet, and cheops is four hundred and eighty feet high. each of its sides is seven hundred and sixty feet long above the sand, and i d'no how much bigger it is underneath. the wild winds from the desert piles up that sand everywhere it can; it was blowin' aginst that pyramaid three or four thousand years before christ wuz born, and has kep' at it ever sense; so it must have heaped up piles about it. the pyramaid is made of immense blocks of stun, and i hearn josiah explainin' it out to tommy. sez he, "it is called chops because the stun is chopped off kinder square." but i interrupted and sez, "josiah allen, this wuz named after cheops, one of the kings of egypt; some say it wuz his tomb." miss meechim sez, "they say it took three hundred thousand men twenty years to build it," and she remarked further, "how many days' work this king did give to the poor, and how good it wuz in him!" and robert strong said: "their work has lasted while the king is forgotten; labor against capital, labor ahead." dorothy looked dreamily up onto the immense pile and said nothin'. arvilly said if she had a long whitewash brush she would advertise her book, the "twin crimes," by paintin' a drunken man in a hovel beatin' his wife and children, whilst america wuz furnishin' him with the clubs, and the "wild and warlike deeds of men" in different wild and warlike attitudes. and little tommy wonnered if he could climb up on it and wonnered what anybody could see from the top. and i looked on it and felt as if i could almost see the march of the centuries defile by its stubborn old sides, and i wondered like tommy what one could look off and see from the top, gazing out acrost our centuries so full of wonders and inventions, into the glowin' mysteries of the twentieth century. robert strong said that some thought it wuz built for astronomical purposes, for there is a passage down three hundred and twenty feet from the bed rock from which you can view the sky. "and some think," sez dorothy, "it wuz built to measure distances correctly, it stands true east, north, south, west." and miss meechim sez, "i believe it wuz built for religious purposes: the interior passages have many stones and symbols that are a mystery to every one unless it is explained in this way." sez arvilly, "i believe it wuz made to shet up folks in that got drunk and acted. probable there wuz some even in that fur-off time that made fools of themselves jest as they do now, and old chops built it to shet 'em up in, and mebby he wuz shet up in it, too; mebby he took to drinkin'. i wish i could have sold him the 'twin crimes'; it would have helped him a sight, but i wuzn't born soon enough," sez she, sithin'. tommy stood back a little, lookin' up and seein' some people half-way to the top, lookin' like flies on the side of the meetin' house, said: "i wonner, oh, i wonner who made it and what it wuz made for, and oh, how i do wonner how they ever got them big stones to the top." and i sez to myself, "the child is wiser than any of us. he don't try to measure his weak surmises on them great rocks and problems, but jest wonders at it all," and i thought i would foller his example, and i felt considerable better after i gin up. robert strong and dorothy and arvilly clumb clear to the top, helped by arab lifters and boosters. arvilly and dorothy wuz tuckered when they come down and they both said they wouldn't have undertook it if they had known what a job it wuz, but they said the view from the top wuz wonderful, wonderful! and i spoze it wuz, but i thought i would ruther hear 'em tell on't than to go through what they did gettin' up and down, and miss meechim, i guess, felt so too. the other two pyramaids in this group wuz smaller than cheops and stood not fur away. the sphynx stands about a quarter of a mild off, lookin' off towards the east, facin' the risin' sun. i wonder if she expects the sunrise of civilization to dawn ag'in into her sight. 'tennyrate she seems to be lookin' out for sunthin'. there she has sot, meditatin' all these years. she wuz old, old as the hills when christ wuz born. what hain't them old eyes seen if she senses anything? from cairo we went to alexandria, where we made a short stay; we couldn't stay long anyway, we had loitered so on the journey. here it wuz june. jerusalem and bethlehem and nazareth we must visit, and still how could we hurry our footsteps in these sacred places that our soul had so longed to see? alexandria was considerable interestin' on several accounts; it wuz the home of cleopatra, and the home of hypatia, the friend and teacher of women. a smart creeter hypatia theon wuz, handsome as a picter, modest, good appearin', and a good talker. 'tennyrate the rooms where she lectured on philosophy and how to git along in the world wuz crowded with appreciative hearers, and i spoze mr. cyrel, who wuz preachin' there at the time, and didn't get nigh so many to hear him, wuz mad as a hen at her for drawin' away the head men and wimmen. 'tennyrate she wuz killed and burnt up some time ago, a-goin' on two thousand years. yes, they burnt up all they could of her; they couldn't burn up her memory, nor liberty, nor the love of wimmin for talkin', and her stiddy practice on't when she gits a chance, not bein' able to. but to resoom: the evenin' we got there josiah looked out of our winder and see a camel kneelin' to take on its load, and sez josiah: "if i could train the old mair to kneel down in front of the jonesville meetin' house for me to git onto her back, how uneek it would look." sez i coldly, "then you lay out to go to meetin' horseback, do you? and where should i be?" "oh, i might rent a camel for you from some circus; you know what big loads camels can take on, they can carry a ton or more, and it could carry you all right." i despise such talk, i don't weigh nigh so much as he makes out. but josiah went on, "i d'no but a camel could carry both on us, i wouldn't add much to the load, i don't weigh very hefty." "no," sez i, "you're not very hefty anyway." but good land! i knew he couldn't rent any camel; circuses need 'em more than we do. the next day we all went out to see pompey's piller which we had seen towerin' up before we landed, all on 'em ridin' donkeys but me, but i not being much of a hand to ride on any critter's back, preferred to go in a chair with long poles on each side, carried by four arabs. pompey's piller is most a hundred feet high. cleopatra's needles wuz brought from heliopolis. one is standing; the other, which lay for a long time nearly embedded in the drifting sand, wuz given as a present by egypt to america, where it stands now in central park, new york. to see the mate to it here made us feel well acquainted with it and kinder neighborly. but we couldn't read the strange writin' on it to save our life. some say that they wuz raised by cleopatra in honor of the birth of her son, cæsarion. but i d'no if she laid out to write about it so's i could read it, she'd ort to write plainer; i couldn't make out a word on't nor josiah couldn't. cleopatra wuz dretful good lookin', i spoze, and a universal favorite with the opposite sect. but i never approved of her actions, and i wished as i stood there by that piller of hern that i could gin her a real good talkin' to. i would say to her: "cleopatra," sez i, "you little know what you're a-doin'. mebby there wouldn't be so many dakota and chicago divorces in if it wuzn't for your cuttin' up and actin' in b. c. i'd say stealin' is stealin', and some wimmen think it is worse to steal their husbands away from 'em than it would be to steal ten pounds of butter out of their suller. and that, mom, would shet any woman up in jail as you well know. and you know, cleopatra," sez i, "jest how you went on and behaved, and your example is a-floatin' down the river of time to-day, same as you sailed down the sydnus in that barge of yourn. and to-day your descendants or influence posterity sail down the river of time in picture hats and feather boas, makin' up eyes and castin' languishin' glances towards poor unguarded men till they steal their hearts and souls right out of their bodies; steal all the sweetness and brightness out of some poor overworked woman's life, and if they don't take the body of their husband nothin' is said or done. good land! what would i care for josiah allen's body if his love had been stole. i would tell the woman to take that in welcome sence she had all the rest. but they sail along down the river of life, coquettin' with weak, handsome male antonys, who had better be to home with their own lawful octavias. so it goes." i always hated cleopatra's doin's. and i wondered as i looked dreamily at that writin' of hern, if she wuz sorry for her actions now in that spear of hern, wherever it wuz, and wanted to ondo it. chapter xxiv we stayed there for some time, and on our way home a dretful thing happened to me. after we all got started, sunthin' happened to one of the poles of my chair, and with as much motionin' and jabberin' as a presidential election would call for, they at last got it fixed agin. by that time the party had all disappeared, and the bearers of my vehicle started off at their highest speed right acrost ploughed land and springin' crops and everything, not stoppin' for anything. where wuz they takin' me? wuz i to perish in these wilds? wuz they carryin' me off for booty? i had on my cameo pin and i trembled. it wuz my pride in jonesville; wuz i to lose my life for it? or wuz it my good looks that wuz ondoin' of me? did they want to make me their brides? i sez to them in agonizin' axents, "take me back instantly to my pardner! he is the choice of my youth! i will never wed another! you hain't congenial to me anyway! it is vain for you to elope with me for i will never be your brides!" but they jabbered and motioned and acted and paid no attention only to rush along faster than ever. i then tried a new tact with 'em. with tremblin' fingers i onpinned the cameo pin, and with a noble jester that would have become jeptha as he gin his only daughter for a sacrifice, i handed it out to 'em. and sez i, "if that is what you want, take it, and then bear me back safely to my beloved pardner agin." but they never touched it. they only jabbered away louder and more fierce like and yanked me along faster than ever. oh, the agony of that time! dear josiah, should i never see thee agin? and the children and the grandchildren? hills and dells of lovely jonesville! would they never dawn on my vision more! would the old mair never whinner joyfully at my appearance, or snip bark a welcome? i thought of all the unfortunate hebrew wimmen who would have been neighbors to me then if i had been born soon enough. ruth, esther, hagar, they all had suffered, they had all most likely looked off onto the desert, even as i wuz lookin' for help, and it didn't come to some on 'em. and by this time to add to my sufferin's, the mantilly of night was descendin' over the seen, the tropical night that comes so swift, so fast, oh, what should i do? every move i made, every despairin' jester only seemed to make 'em go faster, so it wuz plain to be seen that my help wuz not in man. i thought of that pillar of fire that had lighted that sad procession of hebrews acrost that very desert. and, like a cool, firm hand, laid on a feverish, restless foretop, come agin the thought of them three wise men that had trod that desert waste. no path, no guide to lead 'em, only the star, and i sez in my inmost heart: "that star hain't lost its light; it remains jest as bright and clear to-day as it did then to light true believers acrost the darkness in the hour of their need." and jest as plain as though they wuz spoke to me come these beautiful words: "i will lift up mine eyes to the hills from whence cometh my help." and i lifted my streamin' eyes accordin', for by this time i wuz cryin' and sheddin' tears. i could see by the faint light in the west that there wuz considerable of a hill on the east of me, and as my weepin' eyes wuz lifted in that direction my heart almost stood still as i beheld all of a sudden a glowin' star of light shine out of the darkness right on the top of that hill and rapidly desend in my direction nearer and nearer. oh, joy! oh, bliss! it wuz my own pardner with a lantern. his devoted love had bore him back. settin' on a donkey bearin' a lantern, he looked to me like an angel. it wuz the star of love, indeed it wuz! the brightest star of earth come to light my dark pathway. and i bust out: "oh, josiah allen! you are not one of the wise men, but you look better to me than any of 'em could." and he sez, "it don't look very pretty for you, after hangin' out till this time o' night, to run the one who has come way back after you with a lantern, and talk about his not knowin' anything." "run you, josiah," sez i, "you look more beautiful to me than words can tell." that mollified him and he sez with a modest smile, "i spoze i am very pretty lookin', but i worried about you a sight." it seems that they had went on a pretty good jog, and seein' my bearers had got belated with me they had took a short cut acrost the fields to overtake 'em. but it was a eppisode not to be forgot, and i told josiah not to be separated away from me a minute after this. sez i, "i almost feel like purchasin' a rope and tyin' myself to you for the rest of the tower." sez he, "that would make talk, samantha, but i will keep my eye on you and not let you git carried off agin; for the feelin's i felt when i missed you i would not go through agin for a dollar bill." well, we soon come up with the rest of the party. it seemed that they had been talkin' and havin' such a good time they hadn't missed me for quite a while. but when they did, arvilly said josiah acted some as he did when she and he pursued me acrost the continent; sez she, "he acted like a fool; i knew you couldn't be fur behind." and i sez, "arvilly, spiritual things are spiritually discerned; love is spiritual and love has to interpret it." "well," sez she, "i am glad he found you so soon, for, to tell the truth, i wuz beginnin' to worry a little myself." miss meechim said she thought i had gone into some shrine to worship. that was a great idee! off with four arabs huntin' a shrine at that time of night! the next day we started for jerusalem by way of joppa and ismalia. it wuz on a fair evenin', as the settin' sun made strange reflections on earthly things, we entered through the gate into jerusalem, city of our god. nineteen centimes since, the star moved along through the december night and stood over the lonely manger in bethlehem where a babe wuz born. the three wise men wuz the first visitors to that child. now fifteen thousand visitors come yearly from every part of the world to look upon this sacred place where the man of sorrows lived his sorrowful life of good to all, suffered and died, and the heavenly king burst the bonds of the tomb and ascended into heaven. in these streets did sad-eyed prophets walk to and fro, carrying the message of the coming of the king. they were stunned by the gain-sayin' world, jest as it stuns its prophets to-day, only with different kinds of stuns mebby, but hard ones. here they wuz afflicted, tormented, beaten, sawn asunder for uttering the truth as god made it known to them, jest as they are to-day, of whom the world wuz not worthy. just like to-day. here after centuries had gone by, the truth they had foretold become manifest in the flesh. jest as it shall be. after hundreds of years had gone by, he whom the prophets had foretold wuz born in bethlehem, and the three wise men, fur apart, knowin' nothin' of each other, wuz warned of his birth and wuz told to foller the star. they obeyed the heavenly vision and met on the pathless desert, as the soul's and heart's desires of all good men and wimmen meet who follow the star! oh, sacred place! to be thus honored. what emotions i felt as my own feet trod these roads, my own eyes looked on these sacred places. the next morning after our arrival we went up to the mount of olives, and from a tower two hundred feet high looked down on jerusalem. the mount of olives is a long, low ridge on the east of the city. the garden of gethsemane is down on the foot of olivet near the brook kedron. here eight great olive trees much larger than the rest form a sacred grove from whose melancholy shadows might well come that agonizing cry to his disciples for human sympathy and love: "could ye not watch with me one hour?" here did judas come over the brook kedron with the hungry, cruel mob and betray him with a kiss. it wuz in this place that our lord give that glorious promise that lightens life and death: "after i be risen i will go before you." every leaf of the old olive trees seemed trembling and full of memories of that hour. to the west was the valley of jehosiphet, beyend is the city of the king. back of you is bethany, the home of the friends of jesus where he tasted sometimes the human sweets of friendship, in the home of lazarus and his sisters, mary and martha. a beautiful soul mary wuz, and martha, poor creeter! i've always been sorry for her, workin' away doin' the housework when she would much rather, no doubt, set and listen as mary did, but somebody had to be cookin'. so she jest drouged round the house. you can see the dead sea and the river jordan, where our lord wuz baptized and the dove descended out of the gardens of heaven and lit on him, whilst the voice of the father god spoke, "this is my beloved son in whom i am well pleased." not far away from there is jericho. on the southwest rises the hill of zion, one of the four hills on which jerusalem stands. as i looked on it i spoke to my pardner almost onbeknown to me, "oh, josiah! how many times we've sung together: 'the hill of zion yields a thousand sacred sweets, before we reach the heavenly fields or walk the golden streets.' "but," sez i, "did you ever expect to set your mortal eyes on't?" he wuz affected, i could see he wuz, though he tried to conceal it by nibblin' on some figs he had bought that mornin'. miss meechim wuz all carried away with the seen as the guide pinted out the different places. robert strong and dorothy didn't seem to want to talk much, but their faces wuz writ over with characters of rapt and reverential emotion. arvilly for once seemed to forgit her canvassin' and her keen bright eyes wuz softened into deep thought and feeling. tommy, who had heard us talkin' about herod walling in that part of the city, wonnered how any man could be so wicked as the cruel king who killed all the little children, and he wonnered if there ever wuz another king in the hull world so wicked. and my josiah soothed his childish feelings by assuring him that all such wicked rulers wuz dead and buried ages ago. and so queer is arvilly's mind since what she's went through that she spoke right up and told tommy that there wuz lots of rulers to-day jest as wicked and fur wickeder. sez she, "there are plenty of men in every city in america that get the right from the rulers of the country to destroy children in a much worse way than to cut their heads off." sez she, "there are men who entice young children to smoke cigarettes, drugged on purpose to form a thirst for strong drink, then enticed into drinking-dives, where goodness and innocence are murdered and evil passions planted and nursed into life, for the overthrowing of all their goodness, for the murder of their family's safety and happiness and making them the nation's menace and greatest danger." and tommy wonnered and wonnered what could make men do so, and so did i. and arvilly sez, "what is cuttin' off the heads of twenty or thirty babies compared to the thousands and thousands of murders that this licensed evil causes every year?" tommy's pretty face looked sad and he sez: "why do good folks let it go on?" and arvilly sez, "heaven knows--i don't. but i've cleared my skirts in the matter. there won't be any innocent blood on my skirts at the last day." and tommy bent his head and looked intently at the bottom of her dress; and i see my pardner furtively glance at the bottom of his own pantaloons; he acted guilty. it is about two milds and a quarter round the city; the walls are thirty or forty feet high; there are thirty-four towers on the walls, and the city has eight gates. it has a population of one hundred thousand, more jews than any other race; for according to the scripture, jest as the jews wuz scattered to the four winds of heaven, they have of late been flocking home to jerusalem jest as the old prophets predicted exactly. during their hours of prayer, many jews wear phylactrys bound to their forwards and arms, and robert strong said he saw one nailed to a doorpost. it is a long, narrer case, shaped some like a thermometer, with a round hole towards the top of it covered with a lid which they can lift up and see a few words of the ancient parchment inside, some as the little boy had his prayer printed on the head-board, and on cold nights would pint to it, sayin', "o lord, them's my sentiments." but these jews did it to carry out moses' command to bind the words of the law for a sign on their arms, their heads and their doorposts. the writing on these phylactrys is so perfect that you can hardly believe that it is done with a pen. the jews are extremely careful in copying the oracles of god. they still write copies of their old testament scriptures, and every page must have jest so many lines, and jest the same number of words and letters. robert strong said that this was a great proof of the truth of the scriptures. sez he: "our saviour said that one jot or tittle of the law shall not fail." tommy wanted to know what that meant, and robert told him that "jot" wuz the smallest letter in the hebrew alphabet, and "tittle" meant the little horn-shaped mark over some of the letters. and i sez: "i never knew what that meant before." but miss meechim said she did--she always duz know everything from the beginning, specially after she's hearn some one explain it. but to resoom: we went to the church of the holy sepulchre, where many different religious sects come to worship. the place where many think the body of our lord wuz lain when he wuz taken down from the cross is covered with a slab worn down by the worshippers, and in the little chapel round it forty-three lamps are kep' burning night and day. but i felt more inclined to think that the place where the body of our lord wuz lain wuz outside the city where the rocky hill forms a strange resemblance to a human skull, answering to the bible description. near there a tomb, long buried, has been found lately that corresponds with the bible record, which sez: "now in the garden was a new tomb wherin no man had been lain." there wuz places in this tomb for three bodies, but only one had been finished, and scientists say that no body has ever crumbled into the dust that covers this tomb. ruins show that ages back an arched temple once covered this spot. but what matters the very spot where his body lay, or from where he ascended into the heavens. mebby it can't be told for certain after all these years; but we know that his weary feet trod these dusty roads. and as we travelled to bethlehem and bethany and nazareth, his presence seemed to go before us. it wuz a lovely morning when we left jerusalem by the jaffa gate and went down acrost the valley of hinnom, up acrost the hill of evil council, and acrost the broad plain where david fought many a battle and solomon went about in all his glory. we stopped a few minutes at the convent of mar elias to see the fine view. from here you can see both places where the saviour wuz born and where he died. it is a very sightly spot, and i hearn josiah tell tommy: "this is a beautiful place, tommy; it wuz named after miss elias; her children built it to honor their mar; and it ort to make you think, tommy, that you must always mind your mar." "mar?" sez tommy inquirin'ly, "do you mean my mamma or my grandma?" i wuz glad the rest of the party wuz some distance away and didn't hear him. josiah always jest crowds his explanations, full and runnin' over with morals, but he gits things wrong. i hated to hurt his feelin's, but i had to tell tommy this wuz named, i spozed, from the prophet elijah, who wuz, they say, helped by angels on this very spot as he flowed away from jezabel; they gin him water and food, such good food that after eating it he could travel forty days and forty nights without eating agin. jezabel wuzn't a likely woman at all; i wouldn't been willin' to neighbor with her. rachel's tomb is a little furder on. it is a long, rough-lookin' structure with a round ruff on the highest end on't. christian, jew and moslem all agree that this is rachel's tomb. it wuz right here that little benoni wuz born and his ma named him while her soul wuz departing, for she died. i heard josiah talkin' with tommy about "little ben." i hated to have him call him so, but didn't know as it would do much hurt this late day. right about here dwelt ruth and naomi. a sweet girl ruth wuz; i always thought she wuz plenty good enough for boaz, but then i d'no but he wuz good enough for her. 'tennyrate, her actions wuz a perfect pattern to daughter-in-laws. here on these sands the giant, goliath, strode out pompously to be slain by a stun from a sling sent by david when he wuz a shepherd boy. "how i wished i had some of them stuns to slay the evil giants of ," sez i. "if a stun could be aimed at intemperance and another at the big monopolies and destroy'em as dead as goliath, what a boon it would be." and arvilly sez, "where will you git your sling, and where will you git your davids?" sez i, "the ballot is a good sling that could kill'em both stun dead, but i d'no where i could git any davids at present," and she didn't nor josiah, but i felt in hopes that there would be one riz up, for always when the occasion demands, the lord sends the right man to fill the place. well, presently we arrov at bethlehem (house of bread). i mentioned its meaning, and josiah sez: "i do hope i'll get some yeast risin' here that will taste a little like yourn, samantha." so little did he dwell on the divine meanin' that wuz thrillin' my heart. house of bread, sacred spot from which proceeded the living bread, that if any one should eat he should never more hunger. the church of the nativity, the place that we sought first in the village, is the oldest christian church in the world. it wuz built by helena, mother of constantine, a.d. it is owned by a good many different sects who quarrel quite considerable over it, as they would be likely to in jonesville if our m. e. church wuz owned too by baptists and piscopalians, etc. we spoze this church wuz built on the site of the tarven where our lord wuz born. goin' down the windin' staircase we come to the grotto of the nativity, which is a cave in the rock. there are several holy chapels here, but this one where they say christ wuz born is about thirty-eight feet long and ten or eleven feet wide, and covered inside with costly carving and sculpture. a star in the floor shows the place where the manger wuz where the holy child wuz born, a silver star glitters above it and around the star sixteen lights are burning night and day. all about here the caves in the rocks are used as stables, specially when the tarvens are full, as the bible expressly states they wuz the night our lord wuz born. 'tennyrate, way back almost to the time he wuz born, historians accepted this spot as the place of his birth. but as i said more formerly, what if it wuz not this very spot, or some other nigh by, we know that it wuz in this little city our lord wuz born. it wuz of this city that centuries before the prophets said: "and thou, bethlehem ephratah, though thou be little amongst the thousands of judea, yet out of thee shall he come forth that shall be ruler of israel, whose goings forth has been from old everlasting." then and there wuz founded on earth that invisible and spiritual kingdom so much stronger and mightier than any visible kingdom that wuz ever thought on. the gorgeous throne of herod and the long line of kings and emperors since him have crumbled into dust, but that lowly cradle in the stable of bethlehem is onmoved. the winds and storms of eighteen hundred years have not been able to blow a straw away from that little bed where the baby christ lay. the crowns of kings and emperors have disappeared, covered by the dust of time, but the rays of light that shone round that baby's brow grow brighter and brighter as the centuries sweep by. the deepest love, the strongest emotions of the hearts of an uncounted host keep that bethlehem birthplace green and changeless. the herods, the pilates, the cæsars are dead and buried under the driftin' centuries, but our lord's throne stands more firm and powerful to-day than ever before. hatred, malice, the cross of agony, the dark tomb could not touch that immortal life. great monarch and tender, overturnin' and upbuildin' empires at will, blowing away cruel and unjust armies by a wave of his fingers, helping the poor slave bear his heavy burden by pouring love into his heart, wiping the widow's tears, soothing the baby's cries, marking even the sparrow's fall. oh, what a kingdom! foretold by ages, begun on earth in that little rocky stable that december night in bethlehem. and it is secure; it cannot be moved, its white pillers are enthroned in the secret chambers of the soul. and how strong and changeless his prime ministers, love, justice and mercy, are, who carry his messages and do his will. how quiet and peaceable and yet how strong, makin' no fuss and show; but what majesty is writ down on their forwards as they mirror the will of their master. how firm they stand, jest as they've stood for ages; no wobblin', no turnin' this way and that to git adherents and followers. no, calm and mighty and holy they stand before that sacred throne jest as they did at jerusalem before herod and pilate. oh, how many emotions i did have as i stood in that sacred spot, twice as many at least as i ever had in the same length of time in any other place. i didn't want to speak, i didn't want to see even my dear josiah. no, i wanted to be silent, to think, to meditate, to pray "thy kingdom come." nigh by in the same grotto is what they call the tomb of a relation of ourn on both sides. yes, they say adam, our grandpa (removed) wuz buried here. i felt considerable sceptical about that, but josiah beheld it complacently, and i hearn him say to tommy: "yes, here adam lays, poor creeter!" and sez josiah, puttin' down his cane kinder hard, "oh, what a difference it would have made to jonesville and the world at large if adam had put his foot right down just as i put my cane to-day, and not let his pardner eat that apple, nor tease him into eatin' it, too." and tommy looked at him in wonder, "did the apple make him sick, grandpa?" "yes, tommy, it made him sick as death, sin-sick, and he knowed it would." "well, then what made him eat it, grandpa?" and josiah said, "these things are too deep for you to understand now; when you git a little older grandpa will explain 'em all out to you." and arvilly sez, "i'd love to be there when you explained it, josiah allen. layin' the blame onto the wimmen, jest as men do from adam and alpha to omega." sez josiah, "we'll walk out, tommy, and see how it looks on the outside." but arvilly kept mutterin' and kinder scoldin' about it long after they had departed. "why didn't adam take the apple away from her and throw it away? he hankered after it jest as much as she did, that's why. cowardly piece of bizness, layin' it all to her." and she sniffed and stepped round sort o' nervous like, but sweet dorothy drawed her attention off onto sunthin' else. on the pleasant hills about the village shepards could be seen tendin' their flocks as they did on the night when the angels and the multitude of the heavenly hosts appeared to them bearing tidings of great joy that that night a saviour wuz born. "glory to god in the highest and on earth peace, goodwill to men." we felt that we must see nazareth, where our lord's early years wuz spent, and we set off on a pleasant day; we approached it from the north by way of cana. the road wuz hard and rocky, but on turning a corner we see the little town like a city set on a hill, only this wuz on the side of the hill with hills above it and below it. nazareth has only a few hundred houses, but they are white and clean looking, mostly square and flat roofed. as we drew nigh we see the tall minaret of a mosque, the great convent buildings and the neat houses of the village looking out of gardens of figs and olives with white doves playing about the roofs; there wuz great hedges of prickly pears and white orange blossoms and scarlet pomgranites to make it pleasant. on the road we wuz travelin' the child jesus no doubt often passed in play with other children or at work. i wonder how he felt as he stood amongst his playmates and if a shadow of what wuz to come rested on his young heart? i spoze so, for he wuz only twelve when he reasoned with the wise doctors. there is one fountain that supplies the town and always has, and we see stately dark-eyed wimmen carryin' tall jars of water on their heads (how under the sun they ever do it is a mystery to me; i should spill every drop), but they seem to carry 'em easy enough. children often ran along at their sides. and i knew that in this place the young child jesus must often have come with his mother after water. stood right here where we stood! what emotions i had as i thought on't. dorothy and robert looked reverently about them and dipped their hands in the clear water just as joseph and mary might when they wuz young and couldn't look into the futer. miss meechim said she had a tract to home that dealt on this spot and wished she had brought it, she would have liked to read it here on the spot. arvilly said she wuz glad enough to see that they had plenty of good, pure water here and didn't have to depend on anything stronger. and josiah said in his opinion the water would make crackin' good coffee, and he wished he had a good cup and a dozen or so of my nut-cakes. chapter xxv we visited a carpenter shop which wuz, i spoze, about like the shop of joseph, lots of different tools on shelves and nails on the side on't, some like jonesville shops. but carpenter there has a different meaning from what it has in jonesville, it means different kinds of work, carving, making furniture, plows, shovels, as well as buildin' houses. in some such a shop as this our lord worked with achin' back and blistered hands no doubt, for he worked faithful and stiddy when he wuz subject to his father, joseph. i suppose his dress wuz much like other jewish peasantry save in one thing he wore, and this wuz the seamless garment, suggestive, i spoze, of wholeness, holiness. as i thought on't i instinctively murmured these words of our poet: "the healing of that seamless dress is by our beds of pain, we feel it in life's care and stress-- and we are strong again." i looked up to the brow of the hill whereon this city is built, and my mind wuz all wrought up thinkin' of how the christ stood up in the synagogue and told for the first time of his mission in these incomparable words so dear to-day to all true ministers and lovers of god's words, and all earnest reformers from that day down: "the spirit of the lord is upon me because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach deliverance to the captive, and recovery of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised." oh, what a divine mission! not to the great and lofty and happy, but to the poor, the broken-hearted, the bruised and the blind. how his heart yearned over them even as it duz to-day. and how did the world receive it? just as truth is received to-day, anon or oftener; they thrust him out of the synagogue, dragged him to the brow of this very hill that they might cast him off. but we read that he passed through the midst of them and went his way, just as truth will and must. it can't be slain by its opposers; though they may turn it out of their high places by force, it will appear to 'em agin as an accuser. but oh, what feelin's i felt as i looked on that very hill, the very ground where he passed through their midst unharmed! i had a great number of emotions, and i guess josiah did, although his wuz softened down some and dissipated by hunger, and tommy, dear little lamb! he too wuz hungry, so we all went to a little tarven where we got some food, not over good, but better than nothin'. the roads all about nazareth and jerusalem are very stony and rocky, so we can see how hard it wuz, in a physical sense, for our lord to perform the journeys he did, for they wuz almost always on foot. well, that evenin' at the tarven in jerusalem, miss meechim and dorothy and i wuz in the settin' room, and dorothy set down to the little piano and played and sung some real sweet pieces, and several of the english people who had come on the steamer with us gathered round her to hear the music, and amongst them wuz two young gentlemen we had got acquainted with--real bright, handsome young chaps they wuz--and they looked dretful admirin' at dorothy, and i didn't wonder at it, for she looked as pretty as a new-blown rose, and her voice had the sweetness and freshness of a june mornin' in it, when the air is full and runnin' over with the song of bird and bee, and the soft murmur of the southern breeze amongst the dewy flowers. she wuz singin' old scottish and english ballads, and more than one eye wuz wet as she sang about "auld joe nicholson's bonnie nannie," and "i'm wearin' away, jean," and the dear old "annie laurie." miss meechim looked worried and anxious, and sez she: "oh, how i do wish robert strong wuz here. oh, dear! what a trial it is to keep young folks apart." and i sez: "what makes you try to? it is jest as nateral for 'em to like each other's company as it is for bluebirds and robins to fly round together in the spring of the year, and no more hurt in it, as i can see." sez she impressively: "haven't i told you, josiah allen's wife, my wearing anxiety, my haunting fear that in spite of all my efforts and labors dorothy will marry some one in spite of me? you know how invincibly opposed i am to matrimony. and you can see for yourself just how much admiration she gits everywhere, and one of those young men," sez she, frowning darkly on a handsome young englishman, "i am sure is in earnest. see the expression of his face--it is simply worship. he would throw himself on his knees in front of her this minute if there were not so many round. oh, why don't robert come and protect her?" her face looked fairly haggard with anxiety, but even as i looked the anxious lines wuz smoothed from her worried face like magic, and i see robert strong come in and approach the group at the piano. miss meechim leaned back in her chair in a restful, luxurious attitude, and sez she: "oh, what a relief! what a burden has rolled off from me! robert knows just how i feel; he will protect her from matrimony. now i can converse with ease and comfort," and she turned the subject round on missionary teas and socials and the best way to get 'em up. the next mornin' arvilly didn't appear to breakfast. i waited some time for her, for i wanted her to go sightseeing with me, and arvilly wuz as punctual as the sun himself about gittin' up in the mornin', and about as early. i thought to myself: "is arvilly a-goin' to come up missin', as our dear aronette did?" i wuz agitated. i sent to her room, but no answer. my agitation increased. i then went to her room myself, but my knock at her door elicited no reply. i then spoke in anxious, appealin' axents: "arvilly, are you there? and are you sick a-bed? or are you dead? answer me, arvilly, if either of my conjectures are true!" my axent was such that she answered to once, "i hain't dead, josiah allen's wife, and i hain't sick, only heart-sick." sez i, "let me in then; i can't have you there alone, arvilly." "i hain't alone!" sez she. "grief is here, and everlastin' shame for my country." it come to me in a minute, this wuz the anniversary of her husband's death, the day our govermunt's pardner, the licensed saloon, had murdered him down in cuba. i sez, "may god help you, arvilly!" and i turned onto my heel and left. but i sent up a tray of good vittles which wuz refused, and i d'no as she eat a mou'ful that day. at night i went agin to the door, and agin i hearn the sound of weepin' inside. sez i, "arvilly, let me in; i've got a letter for you from waitstill webb." sweet little creeter! she remembered her agony, and dropped this flower onto the grave of arvilly's happiness. oh, how she, too, wuz suffering that day, wherever she wuz, and i wondered as much as tommy ever did about the few cents the govermunt received for the deadly drink that caused these murders and the everlastin' sorrow that flowed out of 'em. well, arvilly told me to put the letter under the door, which i did. but nothin' more could i git out of her; and though i sent up another tray of food to her, that too come down untouched; and as i told josiah, i didn't know as i could do anything more for her, as bad as i felt, only to think of her and pray for her. "yes," sez he, "we will remember sister arvilly at the throne of grace at evenin' worship." and after we went to our room he did make a able prayer, askin' the lord to look down onto the poor heart of our afflicted sister, and send peace and comfort to her. it wuz a good prayer, but even in that solemn time come the thought: "if you and other church-members had voted as you prayed, arvilly no need to be shet up there alone with her life agony." but it wuz no time to twit a pardner when we wuz both on our knees with our eyes shet, but when it come my turn i did say: "o righteous god, do help good men everywhere to vote as they pray." josiah said "amen" quite loud, and mebby he duz mean to vote different. he voted license to help jonesville, most of the bizness men of the town sayin' that it would help bizness dretfully to have license. well, it has helped the undertaker, the jail and the poorhouse. well, the next day arvilly come down lookin' white and peaked, but didn't say anything about her eclipse; no, the darkness wuz too awful and solemn to talk about. but she showed me waitstill's letter. in it she said she had been for several days caring for a very sick woman for half the night, and at midnight she would go back to the hospital, and every night for a week she had seen a bent figure creeping along as if looking for something, payin' no attention to anything only what he had in the searchin' eyes of his mind. it wuz elder wessel lookin' for lucia, so waitstill said. it wuz love waitin' and lookin' out, hoping and fearing. poor father--poor girl! both struck down by a blow from the poor man's club. she writ considerable about jonesville news to arvilly, knowin', i spoze, how welcome it would be, and said she got it from ernest white. wuz things comin' out as i wanted 'em to come? my heart sung a joyful anthem right then and there. oh, wouldn't i be glad to see ernest and waitstill white settled down and happy and makin' everybody round 'em happy in the dear persinks of jonesville and neighbor with 'em! ernest white wrote to waitstill how successful his help union was and how his dear young people wuz growin' better and dearer to him every day. and we talked about it how he wuz carryin' everyday reason and common sense into sunday religion. sez arvilly, "he teaches young voters that while prayers are needful and necessary, votes are jest as needful, for bad or careless votin' destroys all the good that christian effort duz, all that prayer asks for and gits from a pityin' god. every saloon is shet up in loontown and folks flock to hear him from as fur off as zoar and the town of lyme. he don't have standin'-room in his meetin'-house, let alone settin'-room, and they have got to put on an addition." and i sez agin what i had often said before, "what a object lesson elder white's work in jonesville is, and how plainly it teaches what i have always known, that nothin' can stand aginst the united power of the church of christ, and if christian folks banded together and voted as they prayed, the saloon, the canteen, the greedy trusts, the licensed house of shame, monument of woman's disgrace, would all have to fall." "but they won't do it," sez arvilly in a mad cross axent. "they'll keep right on preachin' sermons against wrong and votin' to sustain it, if they vote at all. gamblin' for bed-quilts and afghans to git money to send woollen clothin' to prespirin' heathens in torrid countries, while our half-clad and hungry poor shiver in the cold shadder of their steeples oncared for and onthought on." i sez, "don't be so hash, arvilly; you know and i know that the church has done and is doin' oncounted good. and they're beginnin' to band themselves together to help on true religion and goodness and peace." "well," sez arvilly, "i should think it wuz time they did!" i see a deep shadder settlin' down on her eye-brow, and i knowed she wuz a thinkin' of what she had went through. well, the next day we sot out for paris, via marseilles. we had a pleasant trip up the beautiful blue mediterranean, a blue sky overhead, a blue sea underneath. once we did have quite a storm, makin' the ship rock like a baby's cradle when its ma is rockin' it voylent to git it to sleep. i wuzn't sea-sick at all nor tommy, but my poor companion suffered, and so did many of the passengers. there wuz a young chap who wuz the picture of elegance when he come aboard, and dretful big feelin' i should judge from his looks and acts. but, oh, how low sea-sickness will bring the hautiest head! i see him one day leanin' up agin the side of the ship lookin' yeller and ghastly. his sleek clothes all neglected lookin', his hat sot on sideways, and jest as i wuz passin' he wuz sayin' to the aristocratic lookin' chap he wuz travellin' with: "for heaven's sake, aubrey, throw me overboard!" his mean wuz wild, and though i didn't like his words i made excuses for him, knowin' that mankind wuz as prone to rampage round in sickness and act as sparks are to fly up chimbly. but, take it as a whole, we had a pleasant voyage. we only made a short stay in marseilles, but long enough to drive round some and see the most noted sights of the city, which is the principal seaport of france. on the northern part is the old town with narrer windin' streets and middlin' nasty and disagreeable, but interestin' because the old roman ramparts are there and a wonderful town hall. a magnificent avenue separates the old part from the new, a broad, beautiful street extendin' in a straight line the hull length of the city. beyend is the prado, a delightful sea-side promenade. the new city is built round the port and rises in the form of an amphitheatre; the hills all round are covered with beautiful gardens, vineyards, olive groves and elegant country houses. just acrost from the harbor is the old chateau where mirabeau wuz imprisoned, poor humbly creeter! but smart. he didn't do as he'd ort to by his wife, and mary emily realized it and wouldn't make up with him, though he argued his case powerful in their lawsuit. but he wuz a smart soldier and writ quite eloquent things. he stood for the rights of the people as long as he could, till they got too obstropulous, as they sometimes will when they git to goin'. but i presoom he did desire his country's good. his poor body wuz buried with pomp and public mourning, and then a few years after taken up and laid with criminals. but good land! he'd got beyend it all. he had gone to his place wherever it wuz, and it didn't make any difference to him where the outgrown garment of his body wuz. but to resoom: the cathedral is quite a noble lookin' edifice, built so i hearn, on the spot where a temple once stood where they worshipped diana; not diana henzy, deacon henzy's sister. josiah thought i meant her when i spoke on't, and said the idee of anybody worshippin' that cranky old maid, but as i told him it wuz another old maid or bachelor maid, as i spoze she ort to be called, some years older than diana henzy. sez i, "this diana wuz a great case to live out-doors in groves and mountains." sez i, "some say she was the daughter of zeus, and twin of apollo." and josiah said them two wuz nobody he ever neighbored with. and i sez, "no, you hain't old enough." and that tickled him; he duz love to be thought young. there is a french protestant church, where the english residents worship, and churches and synagogues where other sects meet. we went to an arab school, a museum, library and botanical garden, where we see beautiful native and foreign trees and shrubs and flowers. it has a splendid harbor, consisting of at least two hundred acres. the manufactures are principally glass, porcelain, morocco and other leathers, soap, sugar, salt, etc., etc. the city has had many ups and downs, plagues, warfares, sieges and commotions, but seems quite peaceful now. mebby it put its best foot forrerd and tried to behave its very best because we wuz there. naterally they would, comin' as we did from jonesville, the pride and centre of the universe and america. but 'tennyrate everything seemed peaceful and composed. we only stayed there two days of rest and sightseeing and then rest agin, and then sot sail for paris. our first mornin' in paris dawned clear and beautiful. it was the fourth of july. 'tain't often i do it, but i put my cameo pin on before breakfast, thinkin' that i could not assume too much grandeur for the occasion. the pin wuz clasped over a little bow of red, white and blue, and in that bow and gray alpacky dress i looked exceedingly well and felt so. josiah put on a neck-tie bearin' all the national colors, with more flamin' stars on it, i guess, than we've got states, but i didn't censure him, knowin' his motives wuz good. we all had comfortable rooms in the tarven. arvilly wuz dressed in black throughout; i hinted to her she ort to wear some badge in honor of the day, and she retired to her room and appeared with a bow made of black lute string ribbin and crape. i felt dretful. i sez, "arvilly, can't you wear sunthin' more appropriate to the occasion?" sez she, "i know what i am about," and her looks wuz such that i dassent peep about it. but mebby she meant it for mournin' for her pardner. i dassent ask. josiah wuz readin' his guide book as earnest as he ever searched the skripters, and he sez, with his finger markin' the place, "where shall we go first?" of course, we all wanted to visit the most noted sights of paris. and all on us fell in love with the gay, bright, beautiful, happy city--though josiah fell in with french ways more than i did, owin' to his constant strivin's after fashion. why, i didn't know but he would git to drinkin' whilst he wuz there, observin' the french custom of drinkin' their light wines at their meals. he intimated that he should most probable have cider on the table in bottles when he got home. "you know," sez he, "that there is a hull box of old medicine bottles to the barn." but i told him that nothin' stronger than root beer, made by my own hands out of pignut and sassparilla, should ever be sot on my table. but i may see trouble with him in that way. whilst we wuz talkin' about it, i brung up to illustrate the principles i wuz promulgatin', the ivory tankard arvilly pinted out to us in the american exhibit. it wuz a big ivory tankard holdin' enough liquor to intoxicate quite a few. two big, nasty, wreathin' snakes (signifyin' the contents on't in my mind) dominated one side and made the handle, and held the laurel wreath surroundin' it (signifyin' office-holders, so i spozed), in its big hungry mouth. on top of the hull thing stood a rarin' angry brute, illustratin' the cap-stun and completed mission of the whiskey bottle. arvilly talked more'n half an hour to miss meechim about it, and i wuz glad on't. but when i brung that up, josiah waved the subject off with a shrug of his shoulders in the true french way, though a little too voyalent. i had ketched him practicin' that movement of the shoulders before the glass. he had got so he could do it first rate, i had to own to myself, though i hated to see him practise it so much, mistrustin' that it wuz liable to bring on his rumatiz. and i see in a letter he writ home: "be sure, ury, and weed the _jardin_, specially the onions," and he ended the letler: "_oh revwar, mon ammy._" i knowed that it would make ury crazy as a hen, and philury, too, wonderin' what it meant, but couldn't break it up. but speakin' of "jardins," we went to several on 'em, the last one we see the most beautiful seemin'ly of the lot. jardin de luxemburg palais royal, tuilleries, acclimation, jardin des plantes. there are hundreds of 'em scattered through the city, beautiful with flowers and shrubbery and statutes and fountains and kept in most beautiful order and bloom at public expense. and we visited cathedrals, missions, churches, museums, the sewers, libraries, went through the galleries of the louvre--milds and milds of beauty and art, as impossible to describe as to count the leaves in josiah's sugar-bush or the slate stuns in the jonesville creek, and as numerous as if every one of them leaves and slate stuns wuz turned into a glorious picter or statute or wondrous work of ancient or modern art. i hain't a-goin' to try to describe 'em or let josiah try, though he wouldn't want to, for he whispered to me there in a sort of a fierce whisper: "samantha allen, i never want to set my eyes agin on another virgin, if i live to be as old as methulesar or a saint." well, there wuz sights on 'em, but they looked real fat and healthy, the most on 'em; i guess they enjoyed good health. and one afternoon when the sky wuz blue, the sun shone and the birds sung merrily, we went to that dretful place, the paris morgue. there wuz a crowd before the doors, for the seine had yielded a rich harvest that mornin'; there wuz five silent forms, colder than the marble they lay on, one a young woman with long hair falling about her white shoulders. amongst the crowd that pressed forward to look at that unfortunate wuz a bent, haggard form that i thought i recognized. but if it wuz a father watching and waiting in dretful hope and still more dretful fear for the best beloved, i couldn't tell, for the crowd pressed forward and he disappeared almost before i saw him. and i too wuz agitated, for when i catched sight of the clustering hair, the pretty rounded arms and form, an awful fear clutched my heart that i trembled like a popple leaf and i see dorothy turn white as a sheet and arvilly and miss meechim looked like them that sees a tragedy and so did robert strong and josiah. but a closter look made us know that it wuz no one that we ever see. it wuz not the dear one who wuz in our hearts day and night, it wuz not our sweet aronette and it wuz not lucia. poor father! doomed to hunt in vain for her as long as his tremblin' limbs could carry him to and fro under foreign skies and the sun and stars of his own land. poor seekin' eyes, turnin' away at the very last from visions of green pastures and still waters to look once more down the sin-cursed streets of earth for his heart's treasure! dying eyes, dim with a black shadow, blacker than the shadow of the valley, cast from agony and sin, sold to the crazed multitude for its undoing by sane men for the silver of judas. love stronger than life, mightier than death, never to be rewarded here. but we read of a time of rewards for deeds done in the body. at whose dying beds will these black forms stand, whose shadows torment humanity, to claim their own and go out with them to their place they have prepared here for their soul's dwelling? hard question, but one that will have to be answered. robert strong and dorothy wanted to visit the pantheon; specially the tomb of victor hugo. it is a great buildin' with a dome that put me some in mind of our own capitol at washington, d. c. it is adorned with paintings and statutes by the most eminent artists and sculptors, and the mighty shades of the past seem to walk through the solemn aisles with us, specially before the statute of victor hugo. i felt considerable well acquainted with him, havin' hearn thomas j. read his books so much. and as i stood there i had a great number of emotions thinkin' what victor had went through from his native land from first to last: abuse, persecutions, sent off and brung back, etc., and i thought of how his faithful "toiler of the sea" went through superhuman labors to end in disappintment at last. and jean valjean, the martyr, seemed to walk along in front of me patiently guardin' and tendin' little cossette, who wuz to pierce his noble, steadfast heart with the sharpest thorn in the hull crown of thorns--ingratitude, onrequited affection, and neglect. and we stood before the column vendome and meditated on that great, queer creeter, napoleon. who but he would think of meltin' the cannons he had took in battle from his enemies and makin' a triumphal monument of 'em a hundred and forty feet high, with his own figger on top. chapter xxvi well, miss meechim wanted to see the goblin tapestry, so we visited the goblin manufactory. these tapestries are perfectly beautiful, fourteen thousand shades of wool are used in their construction. what would sister sylvester bobbett say? she thought the colors in her new rag carpet went ahead of anything, and she didn't have more'n fourteen at the outside, besides black and but-nut color. but fourteen thousand colors--the idee! yes, we rid through the marvellously beautiful streets under triumphal arches and more warlike ones and visited all the most beautiful sights in the city and the adjacent country, and who do you spoze i met as i walked along in the bois de boulogne? it wuz the princess ulaly. the rest of our party wuz some little distance off and i wuz santerin' along charmed with the beauty about me when who should i meet face to face but ulaly. yes, it wuz ulaly infanty. i wuz highly tickled, for i considered her a likely young woman and sot store by her when i met her to home at the world's fair. she knowed me in a minute and seemed as glad to see me as i wuz her, and i sez to her most the first thing after the compliments wuz passed, "who would have thought, ulaly, when we parted in chicago, u. s., that the next time we should meet would be in paris?" "yes, indeed!" sez she, "who would have thought it." and i went on to say, for i see she looked real deprested: "ulaly, things hain't come out as i wanted 'em to; i felt real bad about it after your folks sold their jewelry to help discover us. i dare presume to say they have been sorry time and agin that they ever found us, and i wouldn't blame 'em, for as josiah sez to me: "'where would we be to-day if it hadn't been for columbus? like enough we shouldn't been discovered at all.' sez he, 'most probable we should be injins.' but don't lay it to josiah or me, ulaly, we hain't to blame, we didn't do a thing to bring on the trouble. of course we remembered the _maine_ some, we had to, and your folks couldn't blame us for it. josiah and me felt real provoked and mortified to think that after folks had gin their jewelry to discover us they should blow us up in that way. but i sez to josiah, 'because three hundred are sent onprepared into eternity it hain't no reason three thousand should be.' we are great cases for peace, josiah and i be, and would have managed most any way, even been run on some and imposed upon a little ruther than to have rushed into the onspeakable horrors of war. "and i don't want you to blame william, either; he held onto the dogs of war with both hands a tryin' to hold 'em in." "william?" sez she inquirin'ly. "yes, william mckinley, our president. he jest held onto them dogs till they wuz likely to tear him to pieces, then he had to leggo. them dogs wuz jest inflamed by havin' yellow literatoor shook in their faces, and yells from greedy politicians and time servers, till they wuz howlin' mad and would have barked themselves blind if he hadn't leggo. but he didn't want to, william didn't, he wanted peace dreadfully." and she said real sweet, that she knew he did. "well, it turned out jest as it did, ulaly. but i think just as much of you as i did before you lost your propputy, and i d'no as the propputy uncle sam got hold of in the dicker is a goin' to do him much good, not for quite a spell anyway. there is such a thing as bein' land poor, taxes are heavy, hired help hain't to be relied on and the more you have the more you have to watch and take care on, though of course it is a pleasure to a certain set of faculties and some particular bumps in your head, to own a path as you may say, most round the world, steppin' off from california to hawaii and then on to the philippines, ready to step off from there, heaven knows how fur or when or where. it is a pleasure to a certain part of your mind, but other parts of your head and heart hold back and don't cheer in the procession. but howsumever, ulaly, that is neither here nor there. i hope your folks are so as to git round. i wuz sorry enough to hear that you and your pardner don't live agreeable. but though it is a pity, pardners have had spats from eden to chicago and i d'no but they always will. the trouble is they take pardners as boons instead of dispensations, and don't lean hard enough on scripter. "but this is not the time or place for sermons on how to be happy, though married. how is christina and alfonso? i'm afraid he's gittin' obstropolous, and i d'no but christina will have to give him a good spankin' before she gits through. of course, spankin' a king seems quite a big job to tackle, and of course he's pretty old for it. but it don't do to let children have their heads too much. one good spankin' will strike in truth when reams of sermons and tearful expostulations will fail. you might just mention to christina what i've said, and then she can do as she wants to with fear and tremblin'." but i see my folks passin' down a distant path, and i sez: "i will now bid you adoo, ulaly, as time and arvilly and josiah are passin' away." she bid me a real pleasant good-by, and i withdrawed myself and jined my folks. one day the hull of our party visited fontainbleu and went through the apartments of kings and queens and popes and cardinals. the rooms of napoleon wuz full of the thrilling interest that great leader always rousted up, and always will, i spoze, till history's pages are torn up and destroyed. and in the rooms of marie antoinette we see the lovely costly things gin to this beautiful queen when the people loved her, and she, as she slept under the beautiful draperies gin by the people, never dreamed, i spoze, that the hands that wrought love and admiration into these fabrics would turn on her and rend her. but marie didn't do right. carelessness, oppression, neglect of the people's rights, a few grasping the wealth of the nation while the people suffer and starve, weave bloody colors into the warp and woof of life from paris to new york and washington, d. c., and so on to jonesville. and we went through the apartments of louis philippe, francis i., louis xiii., etc., and madam maintenon's apartments and diana de poyter's, and seen her monogram decorating the apartment interwoven with the king's. i hated to see it, but couldn't do nothin' to break it up at this late day. miss meechim walked through these apartments with her nose in the air, having sent dorothy into the garden with robert strong and tommy, and arvilly wouldn't cross the thresholt, and i didn't blame her, though havin' my lawful pardner by my side i ventered. but arvilly led off into the beautiful gardens, where we found her settin' with robert strong and dorothy and tommy by the fountain. we wanted to explore the forests of fontainbleu, but only had time for a short drive through it, but found it most picturesque and beautiful what we see of it. bein' such a case for freedom, arvilly wanted to see the column of july riz up on the site of the old prison of the bastile. and i did, too. i felt considerable interested in this prison, havin' seen the great key that used to lock up the prisoners at mount vernon--a present to our own george washington from that brave frenchman and lover of liberty, lafayette. a brave man held in lovin' remembrance by our country, and i spoze always will be, as witness his noble statute gin by our school children to france this present year. that his statute and g. washington's should be gin to france by america, and that josiah allen's wife and josiah should also be permitted to adorn their shores simeltaneous and to once, what a proud hour for france! well might she put her best foot forrerd and act happy and hilarious! but to resoom: the last afternoon of our stay in paris, arvilly and i went to see the column of july, accompanied by my pardner, miss meechim and dorothy havin' gone to a matinée, and robert strong havin' took tommy with him to see some interestin' sight. and i had a large number of emotions as we stood there and thought of all the horrows that had took place there, and see way up on top of the lofty column the genius of liberty holdin' in one hand the broken chains of captives and holdin' up in her other hand the torch of liberty. but i methought to myself she's got to be careful, liberty has, or that torch will light up more'n she wants it to. liberty is sometimes spelt license in france and in our own country, but they don' mean the same thing, no, indeed! we hung round there in that vicinity seein' the different sights, and josiah took it in his head that we should take our supper outdoors; he said he thought it would be real romantic, and i shouldn't wonder if it wuz. 'tennyrate, that is one of the sights of paris to see the gayly dressed throngs happy as kings and queens, seemin'ly eatin' outdoors. lights shinin' over 'em, gay talk and laughter and music sparklin' about 'em. well, josiah enjoyed the eppisode exceedingly, but it made it ruther late when we started back to the tarven through the brightly lighted streets and anon into a more deserted and quiet one, and on one of these last named we see a man, white-headed and bent in figger, walkin' along before us, who seemed to be actin' dretful queer. he would walk along for quite a spell, payin' no attention to anybody seemin'ly, when all at once he would dart up clost to some young girl, and look sharp at her, and then slink back agin into his old gait. thinkses i is he crazy or is he some old fool that's love sick. but his actions didn't seem to belong to either of the classes named. and finally right under a lamp post he stopped to foller with his eager eyes a graceful, slim young figger that turned down a cross street and we come face to face with him. it wuz elder wessel--it wuz the figger i had seen at the morgue--but, oh, the change that had come over the poor creeter! hair, white as snow; form, bowed down; wan, haggard face; eyes sunken; lookin' at us with melancholy sombry gaze that didn't seem to see anything. josiah stepped up and held out his hand, and sez: "elder, i'm glad to see you, how do you do? you don't look very rugged." he didn't notice josiah's hand no more than if it wuz moonshine. he looked at us with cold, onsmilin', onseein', mean, some like them same moonbeams fallin' down on dark, troubled waters, and i hearn him mutter: "i thought i had found her! where is lucia?" sez he. the tears run down my face onbeknown to me, for oh the hunted, haunted look he wore! he wuz a portly, handsome man when we see him last, with red cheeks, iron-gray hair and whiskers and tall, erect figger. now he had the look of a man who had kep' stiddy company with death, disgrace, agony and fear--kep' company with 'em so long that he wuz a stranger to anybody and everybody else. he hurried away, sayin' agin in them same heart-breakin' axents: "where is lucia?" arvilly turned round and looked after him as he shambled off. "poor creeter!" sez she. her keen eyes wuz full of tears, and i knowed she would never stir him up agin with the sharp harrer of her irony and sarcasm if she had ever so good a chance. josiah took out his bandanna and blowed his nose hard. he's tender-hearted. we knowed sunthin' how he felt; wuzn't we all, dorothy, miss meechim, arvilly, robert strong, josiah and i always, always looking out for a dear little form that had been wrenched out of our arms and hearts, not by death, no, by fur worse than death, by the two licensed terrors whose black dretful shadders fall on every home in our land, dogs the steps of our best beloved ready to tear 'em away from love and from safety and happiness. from paris we went to berne. i hearn josiah tellin' tommy: "it is called burn, i spoze, because it got burnt down a number of times." but it hain't so. it wuz named from baren (bears), of which more anon. robert strong had been there, and he wanted dorothy to see the scenery, which he said was sublime. among the highest points of the bernise alps and the jungfrau and the matterhorn, which latter peak is from twelve to fourteen thousand feet high. good land! what if i had to climb it! but i hadn't, and took comfort in the thought. deep, beautiful valleys are also in the oberland, as the southern part of the canton is called, the plain of interlaken being one of the most beautiful. there are several railways that centre in berne, and it stands at the crossroads to france and germany. and though it is a swiss city, it seemed much more like a german one, so robert strong said. the people, the signs, the streets, the hotels and all, he said, was far more like a german city than a swiss one. it is quite a handsome city of about fifty thousand inhabitants, with straight, wide streets and handsome houses, and one thing i liked first-rate, a little creek called the gassel, has been made to run into the city, so little rivulets of water flow through some of the streets, and it supplies the fountains so they spray up in a noble way. josiah sez: "if ury and i can turn the creek, samantha, so it will run through the dooryard, you shall have a fountain right under your winder. ury and i can rig up a statter for it out of stuns and mortar that will look first-rate. and i spoze," sez he, "the jonesvillians would love to see my linimen sculped on it, and it might be a comfort to you, if i should be took first." "no, josiah," sez i, "not if you and ury made it; it would only add to my agony." we had quite a good hotel. but i see the hired girl had made a mistake in makin' up the bed. mebby she wuz absent minded or lovesick; 'tennyrate she had put the feather bed top of us instead of under us. as josiah laid down under it he said words i wouldn't have had elder minkley heard for a dollar bill, and it didn't nigh cover his feet anyway. what to do i didn't know, for it wuz late and i spozed the woman of the house had gone to bed and i didn't want to roust her up. and i knew anyway it would mortify her dretfully to have her help make such a mistake. good land! if philury should do such a thing i should feel like a fool. so i had josiah git up, still talkin' language onfit for a deacon and a perfessor, and i put the bed where it belonged, spread the sheets over it smooth, put my warm woollen shawl and our railway rug on it and made a splendid bed. the food wuz quite good, though sassage and cheese wuz too much in evidence, and beer and pipes and bears. i always kinder spleened aginst bears and wuz afraid on 'em and wouldn't take one for a present, but it beat all how much they seem to think of bears there, namin' the place for 'em to start with, and they have bears carved and painted on most everything. bears spout water out of their mouths in the fountains, they have dead ones in their museums, and they have a big bear den down by the river where great live ones can growl and act all they want to. and bears show off in a wonderful clock tower they have built way back in the 'leventh century. i never see tommy so delighted with anything hardly as he wuz with that, and josiah too. every hour a procession of bears come out, led, i believe, by a rooster who claps his wings and crows, and then they walk round a old man with a hour glass who strikes the hour on a bell. but the bears lead the programmy and bow and strut round and act. the manufactures of berne are mostly cloth, silk and cotton, straw hats, etc. it has a great university with seventy-three professors. good land! if each one on 'em knowed a little and would teach it they ort to keep a first-rate school. and it also uses a referendum. arvilly disputed me when i spoke on't; she thought it wuz sunthin' agin 'em, but it hain't. it helps the people. if they don't like a law after it passes the legislature they have a chance to vote on it. and it keeps 'em from bein' fooled by politicians and dishonest statesmen. i approve on't and arvilly did when she got more acquainted with the idee. i wish america would get hold of one, and i guess she will when she gits round to it, though arvilly don't believe they will. sez she: "our statesmen ruther spend their time votin' on the length of women's hat-pins, and discuss what a peril they are to manhood." sez she: "why don't they vote agin men's suspenders? everybody knows a man could hang a woman with 'em, hang 'em right up on the bed post." sez arvilly: "why not vote that men shall fasten their trousers to their vests with hook and eyes, they are so much less dangerous?" but i don't spoze they ever will. it is a job to fasten your skirt to your waist with 'em. but they are real safe and i wish men would adopt 'em. but don't spoze they will, they hate to be bothered so. another thing i liked first-rate there and arvilly did, the corporation of the city is so rich it furnishes fuel for its citizens free. arvilly sez: "catch the rich corporations of our american cities furnishin' fuel for even the poorest. no; it would let 'em burn up their old chairs or bedsteads first, or freeze." "well," sez i, "mebby our country will take pattern of the best of all other countries when she gits round to it; she's been pretty busy lately." and arvilly sez, "she had better hurry up before her poor are all starved or friz; but as it is," sez she, "her statesmen are votin' on wimmen's hat-pins whilst justice lays flat with her stillyards on top of her and pity and mercy have wep' themselves sick." america is good, her charities are almost boundless, but i think some as arvilly that charity hain't so likely lookin' or actin' as justice, and robert strong thinks so too. but it is a great problem what to do for the best in this case. mebby solomon knew enough to grapple with the question, but josiah don't, nor arvilly, though she thinks she duz. robert strong is gittin' one answer to the hard conundrum of life, and ernest white is figurin' it out successful. and lots of other good and earnest souls all over the world are workin' away at the sum with their own slates and pencils. but oh, the time is long! one needs the patience of the sphinx to set and see it go on, to labor and to wait. but god knows the answer to the problem; in his own good time he will reveal it, as the reward of constant labor, tireless patience, trust and prayer. but to resoom forwards: one of the picturesque features of the older part of berne is that the houses are built up on an arcade under which runs a footpath. but its great feature is the enchantin' seenery. it stands on a peninsula and the view on mountain and river is most beautiful. from berne we went direct to the city of milan in italy. and we found that it wuz a beautiful city eight or nine milds round, i should judge, with very handsome houses, the cathedral bein' the cap sheaf. i'd had a picture on't on my settin' room wall for years, framed with pine cones and had spent hours, i spoze, from first to last lookin' at it, but hadn't no more idee of its size and beauty than a hottentot has of ice water and soap stuns. from every point of view it is perfect, front side, back side, outside and inside; specially beautiful are the gorgeous stained glass winders in the altar. robert strong and dorothy and all the rest of the party but josiah and me and tommy clumb up to the biggest tower, three hundred and thirty or forty feet, and they said the view from there wuz sublime and you couldn't realize the beauty of the cathedral until you saw it from that place where you seemed to stand in a forest of beautifully carved white marble. but i sez to 'em, "i can believe every word you say without provin' it." i never could have stood it to clumb so high, but they said you could see way off the appenines, the alps, mont blanc, the matterhorn, a wonderful view. the cathedral is full of monuments to kings and queens and saints and high church dignitaries. its carving, statuary, fret work is beyend description. it is said to be the most beautiful in the world and i shouldn't wonder, 'tennyrate it goes fur, fur beyend the m. e. meetin'-house in jonesville or zoar or loontown. milan has beautiful picture galleries, and miss meechim and arvilly and i wuz restin' in one one day, for we wuz tired out sightseein', when a young man and woman swep' by, both on 'em with glasses stuck in their eyes, richly dressed and she covered with jewels, and their wuz a maid carryin' wraps and a cushion, and a man carryin' two camp-chairs, and a tall, slim tutor follerin' with a little boy. i d'no as the queen of sheba and mr. sheba could have travelled with any more pomp if they had took it into their heads to come to jonesville the fourth of july. they didn't seem to be payin' any attention to the pictures, though they wuz perfectly beautiful. there wuz a group of titled people that had been pinted out to us, and their eyes wuz glued on them, and they seemed to be kinder followin' 'em round. they gin miss meechim a cool, patronizin' nod as they went by, and she gurgled and overflowed with joy over it. she said they wuz the mudd-weakdews, of sacramento, rev. mr weakdew's only child, and they wuz on their way home from paris; he had married augusta mudd, a millionairess. "they are so exclusive, so genteel!" sez miss meechim, "they will not associate with anybody but the very first. he wuz a college mate of robert's and so different from him," sez she. "yes," sez i, in a real dry tone, "i spoze he is, he looks different anyway." "he is engaged in the same occupation robert is," sez miss meechim, "and he would no more do as robert does than he would fly. he keeps his workmen down in their place. now robert sells them land at a cheap rate and encourages a building association amongst the workmen, so most all of them own their own houses and gardens, and they cultivate fruits and flowers, making their homes look more like a genteel, wealthy person's than a laborer's; it makes them independent as you please, heads right up, lookin' you right in the face, as if they wuz your equals. mudd-weakdew don't let them own an inch of land; they live in tenements that he owns and they pay high rents. the houses are laborers' rooms, not genteel and comfortable as their employer's. he says that he makes as much out of the rent of these houses as he does from his factory, for i must say that robert's workmen do more work and better. but the mudd-weakdews live like a prince on a broad, tree-shaded avenue with a long row of tenement houses on the alley back of it, separated from the poor, and what i consider a genteel, proper way. "of course his workmen complain that they do all the work and he lives in a palace and they in a hovel, that he is burdened with luxuries and is hoarding up millions, whilst they labor through their half-starved lives and have the workhouse to look forward to. so unreasonable! how can the poor expect the genteel pleasures of the wealthy, and when their houses are low and old and the walls mouldy and streets narrow and filthy and no gardens, and ten or fifteen in one room, they ought not to expect the comfort and pure air of four people in one great house set in a park. but such people can't reason." "who is the fourth?" sez i coldly, for i despised her idees. "they have a little girl older than augustus and very different from him. little augustus is naturally very aristocratic and they encourage him to look down on the tenement children and be sharp to them, for they know that he will have to take the reins in his hands and control rebellious workmen just as his pa does now, and conquer them just as you would a ugly horse or dog." "how is the little girl different?" sez i in cold, icy axents. "oh, she is a perfect beauty, older than augustus and at boarding-school now. she is the idol of their hearts--even the workmen love her, she is so gentle and sweet. her parents adore her and expect that she will unite them to the nobility, for she is as beautiful as an angel. "little augustus was terribly frightened just before we sailed, his grand-pa told me; one of them impudent workmen who had been sick and out of work for a spell rushed up to little augustus, who was feeding cakes to his pony and italian greyhound, and demanded him to give him some. the man's fierce looks was such that augustus dropped the cakes and ran away to his tutor. the man had the impudence to pick up the pieces and rush away with them, muttering that his own boy was dying for want of food, while this boy was throwing it away. what business was it to him, i would like to know. the man was turned off, i believe. mudd-weakdew will stand no impudence; he builds up a wall of separation between himself and them that can't be broke down, just as he has a right to." sez i, "mebby it can't be broke down, but the wrongs and sufferin's of one class is apt to react on the other." "but it cannot here," sez she, "for mudd-weakdew is not like robert, mingling with his workmen, breaking down the wall of separation, that always has and i believe always should exist between the genteel wealthy and the poor." "well," sez i, "time will tell." and she went on. "you ought to see the elegance of their house, thirty house servants and robert has only two; and won't let them be called servants; he calls them helpers. oh, they are so genteel! they mingle with the very first, and robert might do just so, but he actually seems happier amongst his workmen trying to make them happier than he does with the titled aristocracy. mudd-weakdew would no more mingle with his workmen as robert does, than he would fly." i murmured onbeknown to myself, "the poor received him gladly;" "except ye do these things ye cannot be my disciples." and i sez to miss meechim, "how would the mudd-weakdews receive the carpenter's son if he should stop at their gate some afternoon while they wuz givin' a garden party to nobility. if jesus should enter there with his chosen companions, the fishermen and the poor, all dusty from weary walks and barefooted; if he should look through their luxury to the squalid homes beyend with reproach and sorrow in his divine face, how would they greet him?" miss meechim said she didn't really know, they wuz so very, very exclusive, but she felt that they would act genteel anyway. "and," sez she, "they worship in a magnificent church built by millionaires and used by them almost exclusively, for of course poor people wouldn't feel at home there amongst the aristocracy." but arvilly said--i guess she had to say it--"yes, they kneel and worship the christ they crucified while they tromple on his teachings; hypocrites and pharisees, the hull caboodle on 'em, rev. weakdew and all!" i d'no but arvilly wuz too hash, but mebby my groans spoke as loud as her words; i felt considerable as she did and she knowed it. "oh! oh!" miss meechim fairly squeeled the words out, "rev. weakdew is very thoughtful and charitable to the poor always. i have wept to hear him tell of their home above, right in with the rich you know, mingling with them; i have heard him say it, exclusive as he and his family is, and how after starvation here how sweet the bread of life would seem to them." "in my opinion," sez arvilly, "he better spend his strength tryin' to feed 'em on earth; when they git to that country the lord can take care on 'em." "oh, he always has a collection taken up for the poor, christmas and easter, and his congregation is very charitable and give largely in alms and make suppers for the poor, christmas, almost as good as the wealthy enjoy." sez arvilly, "you can't put out the ragin' fires of a volcano with a waterin' pot; it will keep belchin' out for all of that little drizzle; that seethin' kaldron of fire and ashes would have to be cleaned out and the hull lay of the land changed in order to stop it. what good duz it do to scatter a few loaves of bread to the hungry while the liquor power and the mills of monopoly are grindin' out hundreds and thousands of tramps and paupers every year?" sez miss meechim, "the poor ye shall always have with you." "we don't read," sez arvilly, "of martha washington having to feed tramps nor labor riots and strikers in the time of jefferson. no, it wuz when our republic begun to copy the sampler of old nations' luxury, aristocracy and enormous wealth for the few and poverty and starvation for the many. copyin' the old feudal barons and thieves who used to swoop down on weaker communities and steal all their possessions, only they gained by force what is gained now by corrupt legislation. anybody would think," sez arvilly, "that as many times as that sampler has been soaked in blood, and riddled by bullets, our country wouldn't want to foller it, but they do down to the smallest stitch on't and how can they hope to escape their fate? they can't!" sez arvilly. "but," i sez, "they can't unless they turn right round in their tracts. but i am a good deal in hopes they will," sez i; "i am hopin' that uncle sam will foller my advice and the advice of other wellwishers of the human race--i see signs on't." "well," sez arvilly, "you have fursightener specs than i have, if you can see it." and i sez, "you lay your ear to the ground, arvilly, and you'll hear the sound of a great approachin' army. it is the ranks of the workers for humanity with voice and pen, with wealth and influence, the haters of hate, lovers of love, breakers of shams and cruelties in creeds, political and social life and customs. destroyers of unjust laws, true helpers of the poor. it is them that try to foller christ's mission and give liberty to the bound, sight to the blind. that great throng is growin' larger, every hour, the stiddy, stiddy tromplin' of their feet sounds nearer and nearer." and i sez in a rapt way, "whilst you are listenin' to 'em, arvilly, listen, upward and you'll hear the sound of wings beatin' the air. the faint music, not of warlike bugles, but the sweet song of peace. it comes nigher, it is the white winged cohort of angels comin' down to jine the workers for humanity and lead 'em to victory, and their song is jest the same they sung when christ the reformer wuz born, 'peace on earth, goodwill to men.'" sez miss meechim, "i guess you hear the crowd on the avenue going home, and it is really time to go; it would not look genteel to stay longer." i looked at her, and through her, and smiled a deep forgivin' smile for i thought she wuz a foreigner, how could she understand. chapter xxvii in the centre of the city of milan is an artificial lake where the milanise dearly love to go out in beautiful pleasure yots, and in the winter it serves for a skating rink. milan is noted for its charitable institutions, which owns property to the amount of forty or fifty millions; it is a honor to her. it has flourishing colleges, lyceums, observatories, gymnasiums, famous libraries, institutes and schools of all kinds, and the academy of fine arts is celebrated all over the world. it has a beautiful triumphal arch, begun in and finished in . they take their own time, them old milanise do, but when their work is done, it is done. josiah thought most probable they worked by the day. sez he, "men are most always more shiftless when you pay by the day." it has very fine public gardens, and one day we went to the campo santo. it is a beautiful spot; they say it has the finest sculpture and statuary in the world. we spent some time wandering around, resting our eyes on the beautiful marble forms on every side. they wuz a quiet crowd, too; jest as calm and silent as them they kep' watch over. some of the most celebrated pictures in the world are to be seen in the picture galleries at milan, the marriage of mary and joseph, by raphael, is considered the most valuable. we went to see the fresco of the lord's supper, by leonardo da vinci, on the walls of an old convent. but the wall is crumbled and the picture is faded and worn; besides artists have tried to retouch it with just about as much success as josiah would have if he undertook to paint the sky indigo blue, or ury tried to improve a white lily with a coat of whitewash. but we loved to look on it for what it wuz before time's hand had laid so heavy on it and artists had tried to protect it. we wuz in milan over sunday and so we went to the cathedral to service, and agin i realized its marvellous beauty and magnitude. its ruff is supported by fifty-two columns, and it has eight thousand life-sized statutes inside and outside, plenty enough for comfort even if it wuz over-fond of statutes. the lazaretto, once used as a plague hospital, is now used as an apartment-house for the poor; it has one thousand two-roomed apartments in it, a city in itself. napoleon, ambitious creeter! wuz crowned king of italy in milan. and i guess old charlemaigne himself wuz, 'tennyrate a good many kings here had the iron crown set on their forwards. i d'no what made 'em have iron crowns, though josiah said it would be real handy sometimes. he said if a king wuz in a hurry, and you know they are sometimes in a dretful hurry to be crowned before their heads are took off, it would be real handy, for they could take the rim to a stove griddle, and stand up some velvet pints on it and it would fit most any head. he also spoke of a coal-scuttle. but i said that i guessed they used iron to show that crowns are so heavy and bore down on their heads so. we visited lake como, dorothy specially wantin' to see the palace of carlotta. poor, broken-hearted carlotta, whose mind and happiness wuz destroyed by the shot that put an end to maximilian's brave, misguided life. poor maximilian! poor carlotta! victims of the foolish ambitions of an empress, so they say. i wuz glad to throw the blossom of a pitying thought onto their memory as i passed her house, opposite belajio, thinkin' that it wuz befittin' a american to do so. tears stood in dorothy's eyes as we recalled the sad tragedy. lake como deserves all that has been said of it, and more too. the slopes of the mountains are dotted with vineyards, hamlets and beautiful villas. and we see many little cabins where the familys of organ-grinders live. mebby the wife and children lived here of some swarthy creeter that i've fed offen my own back steps in jonesville for grindin' out music for the children. it is only a journey of eight hours from milan to venice, and verona is about half way. and it is almost like travellin' through a mulberry grove. the valley of lombardy is a silk-producing country and the diet of silkworms is mulberry leaves and the trees also serve as handsome props to the grape vines that hang from tree to tree. fur off, like cold, sad thoughts that will come in warm happy hearts, we see the snow-capped mountains, and bime by it grew so cold that we wuz glad and grateful when we had cans of hot water handed to us at the station. josiah thought they wuz full of hot coffee and proposed to once that we should take some to meetin' with us in jonesville to warm our feet. sez he, "how delightful it would be, samantha, to take a good drink of hot coffee in meetin'." "yes," sez i, "it would look nice to be drinkin' in meetin'." "oh," sez he, "i mean to do it sly; i could scrooch down and pretend to be fixin' my shues." but it proved to be nothin' but hot water in the cans, but real comfortable to our feet. and the mulberry groves put josiah in mind of another innovation that might be made in jonesville ways. sez he, "these silk raisers git rich as mud and jest see the number of caterpillars we have to hum; they might jest as well be put to work on sunthin' that will pay as to be eatin' up young squashes and cowcumbers for us to plant over." sez he, "their work is worse than wasted on us." sez i, "these silkworms hain't like our caterpillars, josiah." "well, they may make silk of a different color, but who cares for that when diamond dyes are so cheap, and if we wanted red silk we could try feedin' em on red stuff, beets, and red russets and such. why," sez he, "with ury's help i could start a caterpillar bizness that would be the makin' of me. and oh, how i would love to robe your figger, samantha, in silk from my own caterpillars." "well, well," sez i, "let's not look ahead too much." sez i, "look there up the mountain side and see the different shades of green foliage and see what pretty little houses that are sot there and see that lovely little village down in the valley." so i got his mind off. the costooms of the peasant wimmen are very pretty, a black bodice over a white chemise with short full sleeves and bright colored shirts, and hat trimmed with long gay ribbons. the men wear short, black trousers, open jackets and gay sashes, broad-brimmed white hats with long blue ribbons streamin' down. josiah sez to me admirin'ly, "how such a costoom would brighten up our cornfield if i and ury appeared in 'em." sez i, "ury would git his sash and hat ribbons all twisted up in his hoe handle the first thing." "they might be looped up," sez josiah, "with rosettes." we read about travel bein' a great educator, and truly i believe that no tourist ever had any more idees about graftin' foreign customs onto everyday life at home than josiah allen did. now at lake como where we see washerwomen at their work. they stood in the water with their skirts rolled up to their knees, but they still had on their white chemisettes and black bodices laced over them and pretty white caps trimmed with gay ribbins. and josiah sez, "what a happy day it would be for me and ury if we could see you and philury dressed like that for the wash-tub; it would brighten the gloom of mondays considerable." well, they did look pretty and i d'no but they could wash the clothes jest as clean after they got used to it, but i shouldn't encourage philury to dress up so wash-days. and it wuz jest so when we see on lake como its swarm of pleasure gondolas glidin' hither and yon with the dark-eyed italian ladies in bright colored costooms and black lace mantillys thrown over their pretty heads and fastened with coral pins, and the gondoliers in gay attire keepin' time to the oars with their melogious voices. josiah whispered to me: "what a show it would make in jonesville, samantha, to see you and me in a gondola on the mill-dam, i with long, pale blue ribbins tied round my best beaver hat and you with mother allen's long, black lace veil that fell onto you, thrown graceful over your head, and both of us singin' 'balermy' or 'coronation.' how uneek it would be!" "yes," sez i, "it would be uneek, uneeker than will ever come to pass." "well, i d'no," sez he, "ury and me could make a crackin' good gondola out of the old stun boat, kinder hist it up in front and whittle out a head on it and a neck some like an old gander's. we could take old high horns for a model, and we could make good oars out of old fish-poles and broom-handles, and you own a veil, and blue streamers don't cost much--nothin' henders us from showin' off in that way but your obstinate sperit." but i sez, "i shall never appear in that panoramy, never." "oh, well," sez he, gayly, "jonesville has other females beside you, more tractable and more genteel. most probable sister celestine bobbett and she that wuz submit tewksberry would love to float in a gondola by the side of one of jonesville's leadin' men." i looked full in his face and sez, "has foreign travel shook your morals till they begin to tottle? have i got to see a back-slidden josiah?" sez he, real earnest, "you are the choice of my youth, the joy of my prime of life." "well, then," sez i, "shet up!" i wuz out of patience with his giddy idees, and wouldn't brook 'em. we laid out to go from milan to genoa till we changed our plans. i thought it wuzn't no more'n right that we should pay columbus that honor, for i always wondered, and spoze always shall, what would have become of us if we hadn't been discovered. i spoze we should have got along some way, but it wouldn't have been nigh so handy for us. i presoom mebby josiah and i would have been warwhoopin' and livin' in tepees and eatin' dogs, though it don't seem to me that any colored skin i might have could have made me relish snip either in a stew or briled. that dog is most human. i always felt real grateful to columbus and knowed he hadn't been used as he ort to be. and then mother smith left me a work-bag, most new, made of genoa velvet, and i awfully wanted to git a little piece more to put with it so's i could make a bunnet out of it. but dorothy wanted to see verona and her wish wuz law to the head of our party, and when the head of a procession turns down a road, the rest of the procession must foller on in order to look worth a cent. miss meechim said that it wuz on her account that he favored dorothy so. but it wuzn't no such thing and anybody could see different if their eyes wuzn't blinded with self-conceit and egotism. but take them two together and there is no blinders equal to 'em. they go fur ahead of the old mair's, and hern are made of thick leather. well, robert thought we had better go on to venice, stopping at verona on the way and so on to naples, and then on our way back we could stop at genoa, and we all give up that it wuz the best way. i always liked the name of verona. miss ichabod larmuth named her twins vernum and verona. i thought it would be a real delicate attention to her to stop there, specially as we could visit genoa afterwards. well, havin' such a pretty name i felt that verona would be a real pretty place, and it wuz. a swift flowing river runs through the town and the view from all sides is beautiful. the fur off blue mountains, the environin' hills, the green valleys dotted with village and hamlet, made it a fair seen, and "jocund day stood tip-toe on the mountain tops." but to sweet dorothy and me, and i guess to the most of us, it wuz interestin' because juliet montague, she that wuz juliet capulet, once lived here. i spoke on't to josiah, but he sez: "the widder montague; i don't remember her. is she any relation of old ike montague of north loontown?" but i sez: "she wuzn't a widder for any length of time. she died of love and so did her pardner, romeo montague." "well," said josiah, "that shows they wuz both sap heads. if they had lived on for a spell they would got bravely over that, and had more good horse sense." well, i spoze worldlings might mock at their love and their sad doings, but to me the air wuz full of romance and sadness and the presence of juliet and romeo. the house where she once lived wuz a not over big house of brick, no bigger nor better than bildad henzy's over in zoar, and looked some like it. josiah said it wuz so silly to poke clear over to italy to see this little narrer house when we could see better ones to home any day. miss meechim said that it didn't look so genteel as she expected, and arvilly made a slightin' remark about it. but robert strong said kinder low, "he laughs at scars who never felt a wound." his eyes wuz on dorothy's sweet face as he spoke. and in her soft eyes as she looked at him i could almost see the meanin' of juliet's vow, "to follow thee, my lord, throughout the world." we didn't go to friar laurence's cell where mr. and miss romeo montague wuz married and passed away, not knowin' exactly where it wuz, old elder laurence havin' passed away some time ago, but we did go to the place they call her tomb; we rung a bell in the iron gate, paid a little fee, and was led by the hired girl who opened the gate to the place where they say she is buried. but i d'no as this is her tomb or not; i didn't seem to feel that it wuz, 'tennyrate the tomb don't look much like what her pa said he would raise above 'em: "a statue of pure gold; that while verona by that name is known, there shall no figure at such rate be set as that of true and faithful juliet." josiah not havin' come up to the mark in the way of sentiment at the house of capulet, overdid the matter here; he took out his bandanna, and after flourishing it enough to draw everybody's attention to it, pressed it to his eyes and sort o' sithed. but i doubted his grief, though he made such elaborate preparations for it, and i told him so afterwards. he acted real puggicky and sez: "can't i ever please you, samantha? at the widder montague's pa's you thought i wuzn't sentimental enough, and i thought you would be tickled enough to have me shed tears at her tomb." "did you shed tears, josiah?" sez i. but he waved the question off and continued, "the guide told me that folks usually wep' some there, and i expected you all would, you are all so romantik and took up with the widder montague and her pardner. i took the lead, but none of you follered on." "well," sez i, "if you felt like weepin', josiah, i wouldn't want to break it up, but to me it looked fur more like a waterin' trough than it did like a tomb." "well, you know how it is in the older part of the jonesville buryin'-ground, the stuns are all tipped over and broke. mr. and miss capulet have been dead for some time and probable the grave stuns have gone down." well, being kinder rousted up on the subject, i quoted considerable poetry about romeo and juliet, and josiah bein' kinder huffy and naterally hatin' poetry, and real hungry, too, scorfed at and made light on me. he kep' it up till i sez: "william shakespeare said there wuz two gentlemen of verona, and i should be glad, josiah allen, to think you made the third one; but a true gentleman wouldn't make light of his pardner or slight her reminiscences." sez he: "reminescin' on a empty stomach is deprestin', and don't set well." well, it had been some time sence we had eat, and tommy wuz gittin' hungry, too, so we returned to the tarven. in the afternoon we went to see the old roman amphitheatre. it wuz probably built not fur from a.d. jest think on't! most two thousand years old, and in pretty good shape yet! it is marble, and could accommodate twenty thousand people. all round and under it is a arch, where i spoze the poor condemned prisoners wuz kep' and the wild beasts that wuz to fight with 'em and kill 'em for the pleasure of the populace. miss meechim got dretful worked up seein' it, and she and arvilly had words, comparin' old times and new, and the different wild beasts they encourage and let loose on the public. arvilly's views, tinged and shadowed as they always are, by what she's went through, they both got mad as hens before they got through. there are ruins of a large aqueduct near, which wuz flooded with water, i spoze, for acquatic sports way back, mebby back to anna d, or before her. some say that early christians were put to death in this amphitheatre, but it hain't very clearly proved. well, we only stayed one day at verona, and the next day we hastened on to venice. josiah told me that he wanted to go to venice. sez he: "it is a place from what i hear on't that has a crackin' good water power and that is always the makin' of a town, and then," sez he, "i've always wanted to see the bridge of size and the doggy's palace." sez he: "when a city is good enough to rare up such a palace to dogs it shows there is sunthin' good 'bout it, and i dare presoom to say there hain't a dog amongst 'em any better than snip or one that can bring up the cows any better." josiah thinks we've got the cutest dog and cat in the world. he has spent hours trainin' 'em, and they'll both start for the cow paster jest the right time and bring up the cows; of course, the cat can't do much only tag along after the dog; she don't bark any, it not bein' her nater to, but it looks dretful cunnin'. sez josiah, "i wouldn't be ashamed to show snip off by the side of any of the dogs in the doggy's palace." sez i, coldly, "how do you spell dogs, josiah allen?" "why, dog-es, doggys." sez i, "the palace was rared up by a man--a doge--the doges wuz great men, rulers in venice." "i don't believe a word on't," sez he. "it is rared up for dogs, and i'm thinkin' quite a little of rarin' up a small house with a steeple on't for snip. he deserves it." well, there wuzn't no use in argyin'; i knew he would have to give up when he got there, and so he did. and it wuz jest so with the bridge of sighs, that has, as mr. byron said, "a palace and a prison on each side." josiah insisted on't that it wuz called the bridge of size, because it wuz the most sizeable bridge in the world. but it is no such thing; it don't begin, as i told him, with the brooklyn bridge; why, it hain't no longer than the bridge between loontown and zoar, or the one over our creek, but i presoom them who passed over this bridge to execution gin deep, loud sithes--it wuz nateral they should--so the bridge wuz named after them sithes. josiah said if that wuz fashionable he should name the bridge down back of the barn the bridge of groans, it wuz such a tug for the horses to draw a load over it. sez he, "i almost always give a groan and so does ury--bridge of groans." sez he, "that will sound uneek and genteel in jonesville." but mebby he won't do it; he often makes plans he don't carry out and he gits things wrong--he did the very first minute we got there. we arrove in venice about the middle of the afternoon, and as robert had writ ahead for rooms, a man wuz waitin' with a sizeable gondola to take us to our tarven. when josiah see it drawin' nigh he sez to me, _soty vosy_, "never, never, will i ride in a hearse; i wouldn't in jonesville and i won't in italy; not till my time comes, i won't." but i whispered back agin to keep still, it wuzn't a hearse. but, to tell the truth, it did look some like one, painted black as a coal. but, seein' the rest of us embark, he, too, sot sail in it. he didn't have to go a great ways before it stopped at our tarven, which wuz once a palace, and i kinder hummed to myself while i wuz washin' me and puttin' on a clean collar and cuffs: "'mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam," puttin' the main emphasis on palaces. but josiah catched up the refrain and sung it quite loud, or what he calls singin': be it ever so humbly, there's no place like hum. he looked round the vast, chilly, bare apartment, the lofty walls, the marble floors, with here and there a rug layin' like a leaf on a sidewalk, and i kinder echoed it. sez he feelin'ly and sort of plaintively, "i'd ruther have less ornaments and more comfort." i sez, "it is very grand and spacious." and he sez, "i'd give the hull of the space and throw in the grandeur for a good big fire and a plate of your nut cakes." but i sez soothin'ly, "it is sunthin', josiah, to live in a palace;" and i drawed his attention to the mosaic work on the floor, and the massive furniture covered with inlaid work. and he sez, "i'd ruther have less work laid into the furniture and some decent food laid into my stomach." oh, what a appetite that man has got! it had kep' active all the way from jonesville around the world and wuz still up and a-doin'. well, he can't help it. he acted real obstrupulous and onhappy. he has such spells every little while. i mistrusted and he just as good as owned up to me that it wuz partly owin' to his bein' dressed up all the time; it wuz a dretful cross to him. he wears frocks to hum, round doin' the barn chores, and loose shues, but now of course he had no reprieve from night till mornin' from tight collars and cuffs and his best shues. but then, he had restless spells to hum and onhappy ones, and acted; and i told him he did and he disputed me right up and down. he didn't feel very well, anyway; he had told me that mornin' early how he pined for jonesville, how he longed to be there, and how he didn't care for a thing outside of them beloved presinks. and i told him it wuzn't reasonable. sez i, "enjoy jonesville while you are there and now enjoy europe whilst you are here." sez he, with a real sentimental look, "oh, jonesville, how happy i'll be if i ever see thee agin! how content, how blessed!" sez i, "you wuzn't always happy there, josiah; you oft-times got restless and oneasy there." "never!" sez he, "never did i see a onhappy or a tired day there in my life." but he did. he got down-casted there jest as he did here. i knowed how often i had soothed and comforted his sperits by extra good meals. but he wouldn't own up to it, and seein' he looked so gloomy and deprested i went to work and episoded some right there, whilst i wuz comin' my hair and dressin', in hopes that it would bring a more happy and contented look onto his liniment, for what will not a devoted pardner do to console her consort? sez i, "josiah, life is a good deal like the widder rice's yarn i've heard ma smith tell on. she wuzn't a smooth spinner and there would be thick bunches in her yarn and thin streaks; she called 'em gouts and twits. she'd say, 'yes, i know my yarn is full of gouts and twits, but when it's doubled most likely a gout will come aginst a twit and make it even.'" and i eppisoded to myself and to josiah, "that is a good deal like life. the good of this world seems onequally divided some times, but the rich has troubles and the poor have compensations. the poor man has to git up early and toil all day, but if he hates to leave his bed so early mornings, his sleep is sweet while he rests, and his labor makes his food taste good and nourishes his strength, while the rich man who can lay till noon, turns on his restless pillow and can't sleep night or day. and while he has plenty to buy rich viands he has no appetite to eat or health to digest his food. "the morning song of the lark sounds sweet to the laborer as it rises over the dew-spangled fields, as he goes forth to his daily toil, while the paid songs the rich man hears palls on his pleasure-tired senses. at home you have rest of body, and in travel you have education and variety; yes, the gouts and twits in life even up pretty well and the yarn runs pretty smooth offen the reel of time to the traveller and the stay-at-home, the rich and the poor." josiah wuz brushin' his back hair with two brushes (one would have been plenty enough), and he kep' on with his employment and sez without lookin' up: "i wonder where the widder rice's grandson, ezra, is? he wuz out to the west the last i hearn on him." there it wuz! my eloquence had rolled offen him like water from a tin eavespout; hadn't touched him at all nor uplifted him, though i felt real riz up. you know you can talk yourself up onto quite a hite if you try; but josiah wuzn't moved a mite from the place he'd stood on. well, that wuz one of the gouts in my yarn of life, but a twit wuz near by--it had its compensation. he worships me! and i went on and eppisoded to myself to bring myself up to the mark as i wadded up my back hair. sez i to myself: "if josiah had the eye to see the onseen eagles soarin' up in the sky above his head, mebby he would also see my faults too plain. if he could hear in winter midnights the murmur of dancin' waters and the melogious voice of the south wind blowin' over roses and voyalets, he might also hear the voice of distrust. if he had the wisdom of solomon he might also have his discursive fancies, his various and evanescent attachments. but as it is, his love is stiddy and as firm as a rock. so the gouts and the twits evened each other up after all, and the yarn run pretty smooth." chapter xxviii the next mornin' tommy wuz delighted with the idee of goin' in a boat after some hair-pins for me and a comb for him--he had broke hisen. it wuzn't fur we went, and i spoze we might have walked by goin' a little furder; but variety is the spice of life, and it seemed to kinder refresh us. floating in a gondola on the grand canal of venice is a beautiful experience when the soft light of the moon and stars is restin' on the stately old marble palaces, the tall pillars of st. theodore and the winged lion, obelisk and spire. with other gondolas all about you, you seem to be on a sea of glory, with anon music from afar coming sweetly to your ears from some gondola or palace, and far up some narrow water street opens with long shafts of light flashing from the gondolier's lantern or open window. it is all a seen of enchantment. though if you should foller up some of them narrow water streets by daylight, you would see and smell things that would roust you up from your dream. you would see old boats unloadin' vegetables, taking on garbage, water-boats pumpin' water into some house, wine shops, cook shops; you would see dilapidated houses with poorly clad people standin' in the doorways; ragged, unkempt children looking down on you from broken windows, and about all the sights you see in all the poorer streets of any city, though here you see it from a boat instead of from a hack or trolley car. green mould would be seen clinging to the walls, and you would see things in the water that ortn't to be throwed there. moonlight and memory rares up its glittering walls, but reality and the searchin' life of the present tears 'em down. where are the three thousand warships, the three thousand merchant ships, that carried the wealth and greatness of venice back in the fifteenth century; fifty-two thousand sailors, a thousand nobles and citizens and working people according? gone, gone! floated way off out of that grand canal and disappeared in the mists and shadows of the past, and you have to go back there to see 'em. the rialto, which we had dremp about, looked beautiful from the water, with its one single arch of ninety-one feet lifting up six arches on each side. but come to walk acrost its broad space you find it is divided into narrow streets, where you can buy anything from a crown to a string of beads, from macaroni to a china teapot. the great square of st. mark wuz a pleasant place on an evening. little tables set out in the street, with gayly-dressed people laughing and talking and taking light refreshments and listening to the music of the band, and a gay crowd walking to and fro, and picturesque venders showing their goods. but to tommy nothing wuz so pretty as the doves of st. mark, who come down to be fed at two o'clock, descending through the blue sky like a shower of snow. the campanile or bell-tower towers up more than three hundred feet above the pavement; way up on the tower two bronze statutes stand with hammers and strikes off the hours. why is it that the doves pay no attention to any other hour they may strike but when the hour of two sounds out, a window on the north side of the square opens and some grain is thrown out to 'em (the government throws it to 'em, dretful good natered to think on't)? but how did them doves know two from three? i d'no nor josiah don't. i had provided tommy with some food for 'em and they flowed down and lighted on him and dorothy, who also fed 'em; it wuz a pretty sight. and robert strong thought so too, i could read it in his eyes as he looked at dorothy with the pretty doves on her shoulder and white hands. i got some sooveneers for the children at venice, some little ivory gondolas and photographs, etc., and miss meechim and dorothy got sights of things, venetian jewelry, handsome as could be, and arvilly got a little present for waitstill and a jet handkerchief pin for herself. she mourns yet on the inside and outside, yes, indeed! and i d'no but she always will. and as you can git a relic of most everything at some of the shops i told josiah i would love to git hold of one of them old rings that the doges married the adriatic with. and if you'll believe it that man didn't like it; sez he real puggicky: "i hope you hain't any idee of marryin' the jonesville creek, samantha, because it won't look well in a m. e. sister and pardner." jealous of the creek! that's the last thing i ever thought that man would be jealous on. the idee! i only wanted it out of curiosity. we visited the arsenal, another spot where the greatness of venice in the past hanted our memory, when she had twenty thousand workmen there and now not two thousand. but we see queer lookin' things there--suits of armor, crossbows, helmets. josiah took quite a fancy to one wore by attila, king of the huns, and wanted to put it on. good land! his head went right up into it just as it would into a big coal-scuttle. what a mind mr. attila must have had if his brains wuz accordin' to his head. and we see infernal machines, thumb screws, spiked collars, and other dretful implements of torture like black shadders throwed from the past. a piece of the boat that the doge went to his weddin' in when he married the water wuz interestin'; weddin's always did interest females and males too, no matter whether the bride wuz formed out of dust or nothin' but clear water, and we also see a model of the boat columbus sailed in to discover us. robert strong who wuz always interested in the best things, said that the first newspaper ever published appeared in venice three hundred years ago, and the first bank was started there. you can walk all over venice if you want to take the time to go furder round and cross the bridges and walk through narrer, crooked little streets, some on 'em not more'n five or six feet wide, but the easiest and quickest way is to take a boat, as well as the most agreeable. venice is built on seventy-two islands besides the grand canal which takes the place of our avenues and streets. there is a charm about venice that there is not about any other city i ever see. you dream about it before you see it and then you dream on and keep dreamin' as long as you stay there, a sort of a wakin' dream, though you keep your senses. memories of the past seem to hant you more, mebby it is because them old memories can slip along easier over them glassy streets, easier than they can over our hard rocky pavements. 'tennyrate they meet you on every side and stay right with you as long as you are there and hant you. as you float down them liquid roads you seen face to face sweet, wise portia, "fair and fairer than that word;" and gallant bassanio who made such a wise choice, and shylock, the old jew. and if you happen to git put out with your pardner, mebby he'll find fault with you, and say demeanin' words about wimmen or sunthin' like that, whilst sweet portia's eyes are on you, if you feel like reprovin' him sharp, then you'll remember: "the quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven, it blesseth him that gives and him that takes." and so you forgive him. and then beautiful, sad beatrice de cenci will meet you by moonlight in front of some of them old marble palaces and her pa, about as mean a man as they make, and his sister, lucretia de borgia, that wicked, wicked creeter. why, it beats all what mean folks beatrice's relation wuz on her pa's side. and you thought of any number of queer old doges, rainin' and pizenin' and actin', some on 'em, and marryin' the adriatic; a poor match in my opinion and one that you couldn't expect to turn out well, the bride bein' slippery and inconstant and the bridegroom mean as pusley, cruel and cunning, besides bein' jest devoted to the council of ten. queer works them ten--made and cut a great swath that won't be forgot and they needn't expect it. the page of history is sticky and bloody with their doin's. but they move along in front of you, the doges, the ten and the three. and any number of conquerors and any number of popes and kings down to victor emanuel. and i d'no as i thought of anybody or anything there in venice so much as i did of john ruskin, who give even the stuns of venice a language that will go on speakin' long after the stuns have mouldered back into dust. and then the dust will keep his memory green, and folks will ponder the "ethics of the dust" long after that dust has passed into other changing forms and disappeared. great mind, great lovin' heart, who had but one thought, to make the world more full of beauty, knowledge, sincerity and goodness. his pure, bright intellect, his life white as the lilies, his living thoughts and noble idees they rap at the human heart, as well as mind, with their powerful sesame, and you have to open your heart's door and take them in. prophet of earth and heaven, the air, the clouds, the birds and trees, the rocks and waters, translatin' the marvellous words so our duller eyes and ears can see and hear. as i walked along over them stones of venice, and in the galleries of modern painters and ancient ones, my heart kep' sayin' onbeknown to myself and them round me, "john ruskin, noble soul, great teacher, childlike, wise interpreter of the beauty and ministry of common things, hail and farewell!" for he had gone--it wuz true that he who had loved the flowers so and said to a friend who had sent him some: "i am trying to find out if there are flowers that do not fade." he had found out now, wreathes of heavenly immortelles are laid on his tired forward, not tired now, and he has his chance to talk to moses and plato, as he said he wanted to, and he is satisfied. love and sympathy that he longed for comforts and consoles him, and beauty and goodness wait on him. robert strong felt just as i did about ruskin, their idees about helpin' the poor, and the brotherhood of man, and fatherhood of god, wuz as congenial and blent together like sun and dew on a may morning. robert strong said no other writer had done him the good ruskin had. and i guess dorothy thought so too; she almost always thought jest as robert did. in wanderin' round this uneek city josiah said the most he thought on wuz of tellin' deacon henzy and uncle sime bentley about what he see there. and shadowy idees seemed to fill his mind about tryin' to turn the jonesville creek through the streets and goin' from our house to thomas jefferson's in a gondola. arvilly said she would gin anything to canvas some of them old doges for the "twin crimes". but i told her i guessed they didn't need to learn anything about crime, and she gin up they didn't. the first thing miss meechim wanted to see wuz the church of st. mark, so we all set off one day to see it. san marco, as they call it, is one of the most interestin' churches to visitors on the continent. it wuz begun way back in the tenth century, and it has been in process of building ever since, and i don't know how long they lay out to keep at it. they have spent thirty millions on it, so i hearn, and the news come pretty straight to me, and i d'no but they'll spend as much agin before they git through. but when you see all its magnificent sculpture, columns, statutes, mosaic work, ornaments of every kind, its grand arches, its five domes and spires and all the exquisite work on it i d'no as i'd took the job for any less, and so i told josiah. but he kep' up his old idee he had voiced in many a similar spot, that it wuz done by day's works and the workmen didn't hurry, and that it would have been cheaper to had it done by the job. but how could they, dribblin' along as they did ten hunderd years? the four horses over the main entrance are very noted. they are said to have been carved way, way back by augustus to celebrate a triumph over antony and to have passed through the hands of nero, constantine and napoleon. napoleon, a greedy creeter always, took 'em to paris, but had to bring 'em back. for horses that are so old and have been driv round and showed off by so many conquerors, they look pretty sound and hearty. but josiah didn't like their looks nigh so well as he duz the mair's, and sez he, "that off one looks balky." but i sez, "distance lends enchantment; the mair can't begin with 'em." the altar piece is said to have cost three million. it is of gold and silver, and full of precious stuns. it was made in constantinople a thousand years ago, and has got inscriptions on it that i presoom read well if anybody could read 'em. but i couldn't nor josiah. but robert strong read some on 'em to dorothy, for i heard him. they are writ in latin and greek. when we got back to the tarven that night we found a hull pile of letters from jonesville, and amongst the rest i got a letter from elder minkley, good old man of god, and arvilly got one too; he sets store by arvilly now, he and his wife duz, and they pity her dretfully for what she has went through, and make allowances for her hashness, but never shall i forgit the way she talked to him right in my own settin' room when she first come home from cuba after her husband had been murdered by the licensed canteen. she come to our house one day, and elder minkley, good old soul, come in just after she did for a all-day's visit, poor creeter! i guess he wuz sorry enough he come, some of the time; i guess he wished he wuz back in his study perusin' the book of martyrs or anything else deprestin', and would have thought 'em fur livelier than what he got into. the way on't wuz, arvilly had met miss deacon sypher at the gate and she bein' dretful onfaculized with no more tact than a settin' hen, had tackled arvilly for a contribution to buy a flag to send to our boys in cuba, and talked enthusiastic about the war's holy mission. and i spoze sister sypher wuz skairt almost into fits to hear arvilly go on, 'tennyrate she left her sudden and to once, and started home 'cross lots almost on the run, and arvilly come into the house talkin' and mutterin'. "drusilly sypher knows a sight about it; our army gone to redress wrongs and protect innocence! they better look to home and redress wrongs here; half the citizens of this country in legal bondage, and the hull country cowering under a crime and danger protected and legalized; if i didn't want to make myself a mark for demon laughter i'd quit such talk till i repented my sins in sackcloth and ashes." "well, well, arvilly, set down, set down," sez i, for she wuz rampagin' round the room back and forth, "set down, and here," sez i, handin' her a bottle, "smell of the camfire, arvilly, you look bad," and she did look frightful bad, pale and fiery, and burnin' mad at sunthin' or somebody. but she waived it off with scorn: "camfire can't heal the smart, or sweeten the air of the country; no, it needs fire from on high to burn it out. and it will come," sez she, "it will come." why, she acted real wild and by the side of herself, and i pitied her like a dog, and wuz at my wit's end what to say to her, and i wuz glad enough to see elder minkley, good old saint, comin' up the steps and i went to open the door with alacrity and my left hand, my right hand wuz in the dough, i wuz makin' fried cakes, and i shook hands with him the same, and i sez: "how glad i am to see you this morning, brother minkley," little thinkin' what wuz to come. he took off his hat and overcoat and hung 'em up in the hall and looked in the glass in the hall rack with his mild, benevolent eyes, and brushed his thin, gray hair up on the bald spot over his benign forward, and follered me into the settin' room, and i sez, "here is she that wuz sister arvilly lanfear." and the good old soul advanced with a warm, meller smile on his face, and sez: "how do you do, sister arvilly." but arvilly's eyes snapped worse than ever; she never noticed his outstretched hand, and she sez, "don't you sister me." "why! why!" sez he, "what is the matter?" his welcomin' hand dropped weakly by his side, and bein' dretful confused and by the side of himself, he sez: "i hain't seen you before sence you--you----" "deserted from the army," sez she, finishin' the sentence for him. "yes, i deserted, i am proud to say; i never had a right before under this nation's laws and i took that right; i deserted and they couldn't help themselves; mebby them men see how it would feel to grin and bear for once, just as wimmen have to all the time." brother minkley had by this time begun to find and recover himself, and he sez with real good nature, "i meant to say, dear sister, that i hadn't seen you before since you lost your husband." "since you murdered him," sez she. "i--i murder a man?" he looked pale and trembled like a popple leaf. "yes, you and all other good men who stood by like pilate, consentin' to his death," arvilly went on. elder minkley looked too dazed and agitated to speak, and arvilly continued: "do you pretend to say, elder minkley, that there is an evil law on the face of the earth that the church of christ couldn't overthrow if it chose to do so?" he sez, "the power of the church is great, sister arvilly, but no-license laws don't stop drinking; liquor is sold somehow; folks that want it will get it." "what a argument!" sez arvilly, liftin' her eyes to heaven. "but you hain't answered my question," sez she, short as pie crust, mince pie crust, "is there an evil law existing to-day that the church of christ could not overthrow if it tried to?" "well, no," he admitted, "i believe that the church of christ is invincible." "do you vote, elder minkley?" "well, no, as it were, sister arvilly, i have felt for years that politics was too vile for me to mix myself with." sez arvilly, "do you believe in following the lord jesus christ?" sez elder minkley, his good natured face lighting up, "my divine master; yes, i will follow him to the stake, to the death, if need be." "did he turn away from sinners and the evils of the sinful world and say they wuz too vile for him to mix with?" "i--i--sister arvilly--i why--i don't know what you mean." "yes, you do know what i mean!" sez the intrepid but agonized arvilly. "by your criminal indifference and neglect, you encourage the evil power that rules and ruins." elder minkley's face began to look red--red as blood--and sez he, "you present the subject in a way i never thought on before, sister arvilly. i will think of it; i will pray over it." "will you vote as you pray?" sez arvilly anxiously. "i will!" sez elder minkley, solemnly, "i will!" arvilly come forward and took holt of his hand. her stern mean softened; there wuz tears in her keen eyes; she looked different. sez she, "next sunday i shall set under your preachin', elder; i hain't felt like settin' under it before." and, sure enough, she did go to meetin' the next sunday and from that day they have been the best of friends. but to resoom forwards: i had a letter from philury, she said she wuz all well. it wuz a letter that brought me some comfort and quite a lot of care; it wuz some like a peppermint lozenge, considerably sweet with a sharp tang to it, makin' me think of the sweetness and repose of home with its accompaniment of anxiety and labor. the children writ real good letters to their pa and me, full of affection and thoughtfulness. thomas j. told us considerable about the help union and the good that ernest white and his helpers wuz accomplishing in loontown and jonesville. and tirzah ann wanted to know if reveres had gone out and hoops comin' in; she had hearn so and felt anxious. there had been a rumor in jonesville to that effect, but she couldn't place full dependence on it. thomas j.'s and maggie's letters wuz full of gratefulness for tommy's restored health and what i'd done for him. no matter what else they said that idee wuz runnin' along under the rest of their thoughts, some like the accompaniment of a melodean to a sam tune in meetin'. and tommy himself had letters from his pa and ma full of love and good advice, about half and half. one of the most interestin' places in venice is the doges palace, and i spoze josiah never gin up his idee about it until we stood right in front of it. but when he see that marble front, full of noble columns, elaborate carvin', arches, balustrades and base reliefs, he had to gin up such a place as that wuz never rared up to a dog or to any number on 'em, though he said when i convinced him of his mistake: "snip wuz too good to mingle with 'em, he was likelier than any doge that ever lived there, no matter whether you spelt 'em dog or doge." and i sez soothin'ly: "like as not and 'tennyrate how i would love to hear snip bark out a welcome to us once more." "yes," sez josiah, "it will be the happiest hour of my life when i behold snip and the cat and the children and grandchildren and the rest of the jonesvillians once more." here in the marble pavement are two great bronze cisterns elegantly sculptured, and you can look up the grand staircase with two statutes at the top on either side, neptune and mars; and that wuz the place where the old doges wuz crowned. on the staircase on each side are beautiful statutes and columns, elaborate carving and richly colored marbles. the hall of the great council is one hundred and seventy-five feet long and most a hundred in width, broad enough and high enough to entertain broader and nobler views than wuz promulgated there. but it contains costly and beautiful pictures; one by tintoretto is eighty-four feet wide and most forty feet high, the largest picture on canvas in the world so i've hearn, and others by paul veronese and the other great masters. all round the wall, like a border in a jonesville parlor, are the portraits of the doges of venice in their red robes and round-topped caps. but where marino faliero should have hung wuz a black curtain. well, he wuz a mean creeter; it is a good thing he can be shut out with a curtain. josiah said he thought it would be a crackin' good plan to have a black curtain hung before the pictures of some of our public men, but arvilly said, in a real dry tone, that "if we begun that it would bring up the price of black cloth enormously." she mourns yet quite a good deal in her best dresses, and looked ahead, and didn't want the price of crape and bombazine riz. among the pictures of these old doges wuz one who led the army in an attack on constantinople at the age of ninety-seven, when most old men are bedrid with a soap-stun and water gruel. and francesco foscari, who worked nobly for thirty-five years and wuz then abused shameful by the ten and turned out of office. them old doges had their ups and downs; riz up to power, throwed down agin. mean as the old harry, some on 'em, and some workin' well for the public. and some after servin' the public for years wuz banished, some beheaded, some had their eyes put out, one died of vexation, one who wuz deposed died when the bell rung in his successor. a few died in battle, but only a few on 'em passed away in their beds after a lingerin' and honorable sickness with their one wife and children weepin' about 'em. you can see the open place in the wall where the written complaints wuz put aginst somebody or anybody, guilty or innocent, and wuz pretty sure to be acted upon by the dretful ten settin' there in their black robes and black masks, fit color for their dark and cruel deeds. we went down to see the dungeons, dark, cramped, filthy holes in the solid wall: only a little light sifted in from the corridor through a narrow slit. it seemed as if them places wuz so awful we couldn't bear to look at 'em. but we went down into still deeper dungeons way below the canal, dretful places where you can't hardly draw a breath. we see dim traces of writings on the walls some wretched prisoner waitin' for death had writ there. how did he feel when he writ it? i didn't want to know, nor have josiah know. we didn't make a very long stay in venice, but journeyed on to florence--florence the beautiful. it lays in a quiet, sheltered valley with the apennine mountains risin' about it as if to keep off danger. the river arno runs through it, spanned by handsome bridges. the old wall that used to surround it with its eight gates, has been destroyed some years ago. as i say, it is a beautiful city, although it wuz more grand and populous when it wuz the capital of italy. dorothy said it was well named the city of flowers, for there wuz flowers everywhere, the markets full of 'em, flower girls at every turn, balconies and windows overrunning with them, public gardens and private gardens sweet with their brightness and perfume. chapter xxix the next morning after we arrived at florence we sallied out sightseeing. we all went out together, but separated after a while, promising to meet at luncheon time at our tarven, but we all went together as fur as the cathedral. it is a noble buildin', covered with red, white and black marble, elegantly ornamented with panels and sculpture. and the hull meetin'-house is so beautiful, that it wuz remarked that "it ort to be kep' in a glass case." inside, the ceiling is one hundred and thirty-five feet high--good land! i told josiah i wuz glad i did not have to whitewash or paper it overhead, for it 'most killed us methodist episcopal sisters to paper our meetin'-house ceilin' which wuz only twenty feet high, and put a hundred and fifteen feet on top of that and where would we be, we never could done it in the world. the interior is full of statutes and pictures by michael angelo and other great sculptors and famous painters. the campanile or bell tower near it is most three hundred feet high, and a beautiful view is to be seen from the top way off onto the fur-off mountains, the city and the valley of the arno, or that is i hearn so; i didn't climb up myself to see, bein' more'n willin' to take dorothy's word and robert strong's to that effect. the bronze doors in the baptistry are a sight to see. michael angelo said they wuz worthy to be the gates of paradise, but i could tell mr. angelo, and would if he had said it to me, that he little knew how beautiful them gates are and we ortn't to compare anything earthly to 'em. jest think, mr. angelo, i'd say, of an immense gate being made of one pearl, the idee! we can't hardly git into our heads any idees here below, and never will till the winds of heaven blow aginst our tired senses and brighten 'em up. but i wuzn't neighbor to mr. angelo; he died several years before i wuz born, four or five hundred years before, so of course i couldn't advise him for his good. he lost a sight and never knowed it, poor creeter! the ufizzi and pitti galleries contain enough pictures and statutes to make 'em more'n comfortable, i should think; beautiful pictures and beautiful statutes i must say. one of the most interestin' things to me in the hull collection wuz the original drawings of the old masters with their names signed to 'em in their own handwritin'. it wuz like liftin' up the mysterious curtain a little ways and peerin' into the past. michael angelo's sketches in chalk and charcoal; titian's drawings, little buds, as you may say from which they bloomed into immortal beauty; rubens, albert durer and a throng of others. and then there wuz the autograph portraits of the great painters, guido, rembrandt, de vinci, vandyke, raphael, and also the greatest works of all these painters. it wuz a grand and inspirin' sight never to be forgot. robert strong and dorothy wanted to see the statute of dante; they set store by his writings. it is a splendid statute of white marble riz up in the piazza sante croce; i hearn 'em talkin' about its bein' on a piazza and spozed it wuz built on some stoop and mistrusted he deserved a better pillow. but it wuzn't on the piazza of a house, it wuz out-doors, and the pedestal wuz over twenty feet high, all covered with carvin's of seens took from his "divinia commedia," and some lions, and the arms of italy, and things. it wuz a good-lookin' statute, better lookin' as fur as beauty goes than dante himself; he wuz kinder humbly i always thought, but then, i spoze, he didn't always wear that wreath on his head; mebby he looked better in a beaver hat or a fur cap. 'tennyrate, thomas j. always sot store by him. it wuz a noble statute, more'n fifty feet high, i presoom, with two figures standin' on each side and one on top. the one on the left seemed to have her hand outstretched telling to all the world just how dante wuz used whilst he wuz alive, and the one on the right had just throwed herself down and wuz cryin' about it, and dante, settin' on top, wuz leanin' his hand on his head and meditatin'. what his meditations wuz, i don't know, nor josiah don't. mebby he wuz thinkin' of beatrice. thomas j. had read dante's books a sight to his pa and me. "the divine comedy," "the inferno," "bernadiso," "new life," etc., etc. thomas jefferson thought "the divine comedy" a powerful work, showing the story of how a man wuz tempted, and how sorrow lifts up the soul to new hites. i never approved of his praisin' up beatrice quite so much under the circumstances, and i dare presoom to say that he and gemma (his pardner) had words about it. but then i couldn't hender it, it havin' all took place five or six hundred years before i wuz born. robert strong said that his writings wuz full of eloquence, wit and pathos. his native land sets great store by his memory, though they acted in the usual genteel and fashionable way, and banished and persecuted him during his life. one thing he said i always liked. he wuz told he might return to his country under certain pains and penalties, but he refused and said: "far from a preacher of justice to pay those who have done him wrong as a favor. can i not everywhere behold the mirrors of the sun and stars? speculate on sweetest truths under any sky." robert strong said his poetry wuz far finer in the original. and i said, "yes, he wuz very original, for thomas jefferson always said so." he is buried in ravenna, and the florentines have begged for his ashes to rest in florence. if when they burnt up some of his books to show their contempt of him they had done as they wanted to, dug up his body and burnt it, there wouldn't have been any ashes to quarrel about, for of course scornin' him so they would have cast his ashes to the winds. but now they worship him when his ear is dead to their praise, the great heart silent that their love would have made beat with ecstasy. well, such is life. they treated tasso just about the same who writ "jerusalem delivered," they imprisoned him for a lunatic, and now how much store they set by him. and i had these same thoughts, only more extreme ones, as we stood in the cell of that noble preacher of righteousness and denouncer of sin, savonarola. he wuz so adored by the populace, and so great a crowd pressed to see him to kiss his robe and applaud him, that he had to have a guard. and then this same adoring crowd turned against him, imprisoned him for heresy, tortured him, burnt him to the stake. and when he stood on the fagots, which wuz to be his funeral bed of flame, and the bishop said to him: "i excommunicate you from the church militant," he answered: "thou canst not separate me from the church triumphant." a great life and a great death. i thought of this a sight as i looked on his tomb. i sot store by mr. savonarola. in the church of sante croce we see the tomb of machiavelli, a very wise, deep man and a wise patriot, but a man lied about the worst kind by them that hate liberty; the tomb of the poet, alfieri, with italy weepin' over it; the tombs of michael angelo and galileo; the mother of the bonapartes, and many, many others. galileo's monument wuz a sizeable one, but none too big for the man who discovered the telescope and the motion of the earth. but just as the way of the world is because he found new stars and insisted that the earth did move, his enemies multiplied, he wuz persecuted and imprisoned. i sot great store by him, and so did robert strong, and i sez to him, "robert, you too are discovering new and radiant stars in your city of justice and proving that the world does move." and i gin a queer look onto miss meechim and sez: "i hope you won't be persecuted for it." miss meechim looked some like her sirname with the last letter changed to n. but to resoom: the galleries of florence contains priceless pictures and statuary, so many of 'em that to enjoy them as you should, and want to, would take years. why, in the hall of niobe i wanted to stay for days to cry and weep and enjoy myself. i took my linen handkerchief out of my pocket to have it ready, for i laid out to weep some, and did, the mother's agony wuz so real, holdin' one child while the rest wuz grouped about her in dyin' agony. one of the sons looked so natural, and his expression of despair and sufferin' wuz so intense that arvilly said: "i believe he drinked, his face shows a guilty conscience, and his ma looks jest as the mother of drunkards always looks." i told her that the death of niobe's children wuz caused by envy and jealousy, which duz just such things to-day as fur as they dast all the way from new york to jonesville, and so on through the surroundin' world. sez i, "apollo and diana killed 'em all just because niobe had such beautiful children and so many of 'em and wuz naterally proud and had boasted about 'em some, and apollo and diana didn't want their ma looked down on and run upon because she had only two children, and probable their ma bein' envious and jealous sot 'em up." but arvilly wouldn't give up; she said a ma would always try to cover up things and insisted on it to the last that she should always believe they drinked and got into a fight with latony's boy and girl. "no," sez i agin, "it wuz envy and jealousy that took aim and did this dretful deed." josiah sez: "why didn't ni-obe keep her mouth shet then?" well, it wuz vain to enjoy deep emotions in the face of such practicality. i put up my handkerchief and moved off into another room. besides pictures, these galleries contain rare gems of art in bronze, crystal, precious stones, coins, arms, helmets, etc., etc. enough as i say to keep one's mind rousted up and busy for years and years. dorothy said she couldn't leave florence without seeing the house where elizabeth barrett browning lived and writ her immortal poems and i felt jest so; i felt that i must see the place sanctified by her pure spirit and genius. so robert strong got a carriage and took dorothy and me there one fine afternoon. a plate let into the front of the house tells where she lived in body. but in sperit she inhabited the hull world, and duz now. her home is in the hearts of all who love pure and exalted poetry. here she lived her happy life as the wife of robert browning and mother of her boy. here she passed on up to the higher school, for which she had prepared her sweet soul below, graduated in the earth school and promoted up to the higher one above. i had a sight of emotions here and robert and dorothy quoted from her all the way back to our tarven, and so i did. i thought more of such poems as "mother and poet," and "the sleep," etc. but they quoted a sight from "geraldine's courtship" and "portuguese songs," for so every heart selects its own nutriment. their young hearts translated it into glowing language i mistrusted, though i didn't say nothin'. from florence we went to rome. i had read a sight about rome and how she sot on her seven hills and from her throne of glory ruled the world. but them hills are lowered down a good deal by the hand of time, just as rome's glory is; she don't rule the world now, fur from it. there is in reality ten hills, but the ruins of old rome--the rome of julius cæsar--has filled in the hollers a good deal and the new city has grown old agin, as cities must, and i, and josiah, and everybody and everything. robert strong had writ ahead and got us some comfortable rooms in a tarven on the corso. when robert strong first spoke on't josiah looked agitated. he thought it wuz a buryin' ground. but it didn't have anything to do with a corse. the corso is one of the finest streets in rome, and handsome shops are on each side on't, and carriages and folks in fine array and them not so fine are seen there. most all of the big crowd wuz dressed as they do in jonesville and paris and london, though occasionally we met italians in picturesque costooms. there are three hundred and eighty catholic meetin'-houses in rome, quite a few on 'em dedicated to the virgin mary, and lots of costly gifts are laid on her altar. but the one i wanted to see and so did the rest of our party wuz the one that stood on the spot where once the circus of nero stood, weak, mizable creeter. the most agreeable actin' to him and his cruel pardner wuz the death struggles of martyrs and bloodshed and agony. what a inspiring idee it is to think that right on that very spot, that bloody pagan pleasure house of hissen is changed into the biggest meetin'-house in the world. of course we had seen st. peter's from a distance ever since we'd got nigh the city, and we sot out the very next mornin' after we got there, to see it at clost view. now i had thought, comparin' it to the jonesville meetin'-house, which i guess is about fifty by sixty feet, and will, on a pinch, set four hundred and fifty, and comparin' that with the cathedral in new york i had thought that that catholic cathedral in new york was about as big a meetin'-house as a minister could handle easy; but the area of that is forty-three thousand, whilst st. peter's at rome is two hundred and twelve thousand. the difference these figgers make in the two meetin'-houses is bigger than my writin' can show you, no matter how big a pen i use or how black my ink is. as i stood in st. peter's church in rome i had a great number of emotions and large, very large in size. right here where mr. nero (the mean, misable creeter) got hilarious over the dyin' struggles of the christian martyrs, right here where st. peter met his death with the glory of heaven lightin' up his dyin' eyes (i am just as sure on't as if i see it myself) stands this immense meetin'-house. three hundred years of labor and sixty millions of dollars have been expended on it and the end is not yet. but i would not done it for a cent less if i had took the job, i couldn't afford it nor josiah couldn't. why, when we stood in front on't i didn't feel no bigger than the head of a pin, not a hat pin or a shawl pin, but the smallest kind they make, and josiah dwindled down so in size as compared to the edifice that i 'most thought i should lose him right there with my eyes glued onto his liniment. you go through a large double door which shuts up behind you as noiselessly and securely as if you wuz walled in to stay. my first feelin' after i entered wuz the immensity of the place. some of the statutes you see that didn't look so big as josiah, when you come clost up to 'em you found wuz sixteen feet high. and the little cherubs holdin' the shell of holy water at the entrance you see are six feet high. you look fur down the meetin'-house as you look down the road into a big piece of woods, only here the distant trees turn into statutes and shrines and altars and things. fur off like distant stars shinin' down into the forest you see the lamps, one hundred and twelve of 'em, burnin' day and night around the tomb of st. peter. as you stand under the dome and look up it is like looking at the very ruff of the sky. it is supported by four great pillars and the interior of the immense globe is one hundred and thirty-nine feet in circumference measured on the inside. all the houses in jonesville could be piled up on top of each other in this immense space and zoar and shackville piled onto them and not half fill it. as we stood under the great dome the canopy over st. peter's tomb seemed to us no bigger than the band stand in jonesville. but when we got up to it we see that it wuz 'most a hundred feet high, for fur up the mosaic medallions of the four evangelists lookin' none too big for the place come to examine 'em, the pen of st. luke is six feet long and his nose is big enough for a spare bedroom. the writing that runs along under the dome each letter is six feet high, higher than thomas jefferson on tip toes, or josiah on stilts. the idee! i don't spoze that peter, that earnest, hot-tempered fisherman ever spozed he would have such a buildin' erected to his honor, and i wondered as i looked through the immense distances of this meetin'-house how many turned their thoughts from the glory about 'em onto peter's inspired words when he wuz here in the flesh. this huge pile seemed as if time could have no power over it, but his own words rung in my ear: "the day of the lord shall come as a thief in the night and all these things shall be dissolved. nevertheless we according to his promise look for a new heaven and a new earth wherein dwelleth righteousness." and as i thought of his death right here on this very spot agin his words sounded in my heart: "beloved, think it not strange concerning this fiery trial which is to try you--but rejoice--partakers of christ's suffering--" and even as i listened to the chantin' of the priests i methought i heard peter speaking of the voice which come down from heaven which they heard who wuz with him on the mount. i thought of the sure word of prophecy. "the light shining in a dark place"--"until the day dawns and the day star arise in our hearts." yes, the real peter wuz enshrined in my heart as i trod the grand aisles of that meetin'-house of hisen, and i didn't think nothin' at all in comparison of that statute of peter settin' on a white stun throne holdin' his foot out for the masses to kiss. he sets up there with a queer lookin' thing on his head. josiah said it wuz a sass pan, and i sez: "no, josiah, it is a halo." and he sez: "samantha, if i'm ever sculped and sot up in the jonesville meetin'-house, i don't want any halo on my head." and i told him i guessed there wuzn't any danger of his ever wearin' a halo on this earth. and josiah said before the subject wuz broached that never, never should he kiss that toe. and he sez it to me in reproachful axents as if i'd been teasin' him to. but i hadn't thought on't and told him so. but right whilst we stood there we see folks of all classes from peasants to nobles and of all ages from childhood to old age walk up and kneel and kiss that onconscious big toe and go into some chapel countin' the beads of their rosaries. good land! peter don't care anything about that mummery unless he has changed for the worse since he left this mortal spear, which hain't very likely bein' the man he wuz. and as i thought of the evil things done in the name of the power that rared up that figger, i methought i hearn him say: "the time has come when judgment must begin at the house of the lord." i had lots of emotions as i walked to and fro and didn't want to talk to anybody or hear the talkin' round me. i hearn tommy talkin' sunthin' to carabi and i catched these words, "i wonner, oh, i wonner what good it duz 'em to kiss that toe." and arvilly and josiah jined in in sharp criticism. and agin josiah sez: "i know i am a leadin' man in jonesville and have been called more'n once a pillar in the meetin'-house, but never, never do i want to be made a statter with a sass pan on my head, and the bretheren and sistern kissin' my toes." and agin i sez, "it hain't a sass pan." but they kep' on to that extent that i had to say, "josiah and arvilly, the one that figger represents, said: 'above all things have charity, for charity covers a multitude of sin.'" miss meechim and dorothy and robert strong clumb clear up into the dome twice as high as bunker hill monument or ruther walked up for they hain't stairs, but a smooth wooden way leads up, up to that hite. miss meechim told me when they come down that though there wuz a high railin' it seemed so frightful to look down that immense height she didn't hardly dare to look off and enjoy herself, though the view wuz sublime. but i can't describe st. peter's no more than a ant can describe the zodiac, i mean an a-n-t, not mother's sister. why, the great side chapels are big enough for meetin'-houses and fur grander than we shall ever see in jonesville or the environin' townships. and the tomb and monuments and altars, etc., are more gorgeous than i could ever tell on if i should try a year. there wuz one statute by canova of clement xiii that is lovely, the marble figure of the pope and on each side kneelin' figures of religion and death. down below as if guardin' the tomb stands two noble lions. and pope innocent, i d'no whether his name agreed with his nater or not, but he sets there holdin' the lance that pierced the side of our lord, so they say. but i don't believe that it wuz the same one nor robert strong don't; i should have had different feelin's when i looked at it if it had been the one. besides this relic they claim to have at st. peter's a piece of the cross and the napkin that wuz laid to our lord's face when he wuz faintin' under the burden of the cross, and that still holds the imprint of his face, so they say. they are shown on sacred days. they say that there is confessionals at st. peter's where folks of every language in the world can confess and be absolved by a priest that understands 'em. well, i shouldn't wonder, it is big enough, it seems like a world in itself. but i couldn't help thinkin' of our great high priest whose confessional is broad and high as the needs and sorrows of a world and the "silent liftin' of an eye can bring us there to be," and who understands not only every language under the sun, but every secret and hidden thought and aspiration of the soul, good or evil, and whose forgiveness and compassion never fails the penitent soul. i couldn't help thinkin' on't, and i felt that st. peter if he could speak would say, "josiah allen's wife, i don't blame you for your methinkin', i think just so myself." one day we all went to see the arch of titus; it wuz big and massive lookin' with a lot of writin' over the top that i couldn't read nor josiah couldn't, but interestin' like all the remains of imperial rome that ruled over almost the hull of the known world. it was erected about the year to commemorate the destruction of jerusalem. there wuz another arch fur more interestin' to me, and that wuz the arch of constantine. it is perfectly beautiful, and would be, even if it wuz built by a misable pagan. but it wuz built by mr. constantine when he declared himself in favor of christianity. i sot store by him. it is a grand and beautiful structure, richly ornamented, and has three passages. i didn't like all the base reliefs on it; indeed, i considered some on 'em as real base, such as mr. tragan's offerin's to the gods, etc. but then i realized that i wuzn't obleeged to look at 'em. and some on 'em wuz very good showin' off mr. tragan educatin' poor children, etc. and some of constantine's doin's there i liked first-rate. and i d'no as i see anything in rome that interested me more than the tomb of celia crassus--celia matella that wuz. it is a round, massive structure that stands on the appian way and is about two thousand years old. it wuz once all covered with costly marble, but the hand of time and other thieves, in mortal shape, have stole it a long time ago. but enough is left to show what it wuz. nobody knows jest who celia wuz and what she did do, or didn't do, to git such a monument. but i shall always believe she wuz a real likely woman and smart. 'tennyrate, i said her pardner must have thought high on her and mourned her loss like a dog or he never would have rared such a magnificent tomb to her memory. but arvilly looked at it different. she said she believed her husband drinked and got led off into all sorts of sins and made celia no end of trouble and riz this monument up to smooth things over. but i sez, "mebby things wuz different then;" but didn't really spoze so, human nater havin' capered about the same from the start. "'tennyrate," sez i, "i shall always believe that miss crassus wuz good as gold, and this great massive monument that it seems as if the hand of time can't ever throw down i take as a great compliment to my sect as well as celia crassus." but arvilly wuz as firm as a rock to the last in her belief that mr. crassus drinked and that miss crassus wuz broken-hearted by her grief and anxiety and tryin' to cover up her pardner's doin's as the wives of drunkards will, and tryin' to keep her children from follerin' their pa's dretful example, and then after he'd jest killed her with these doin's he rared up this great monument as a conscience soother. josiah thought celia wuz equinomical and a wonderful good cook, and her grateful pardner riz this up in honor of his blissful life with her. miss meechim thought that at all events she must have been genteel. robert and dorothy looked at its massive walls, and i hearn him say sunthin' to her kinder low about "how love wuz stronger than time or death." but tommy just wonnered at it, wonnered who celia matella wuz, how she looked, how old she wuz, if she had any little boys and girls. he jest wonnered and nothin' else, and in the end i did, too. you have no idee till you see how big the colosseum is. it is as long as from our house to she that wuz submit tewksberry's, and so on round by solomon gowdey's back agin. you may not believe it, but it is true, and i d'no but it is bigger. it used to accommodate one hundred thousand people in its palmy days, or so i spoze they called it, when some time durin' one season five thousand beasts would be killed there fightin' with human bein's, hull armies of captives bein' torn to pieces there for the delight of them old pagans. fathers bein' made to kill their wives and children right there for their delight. oh, how i wished, as i told arvilly, i could git holt of mr. titus and mr. nero and some of the rest of them leadin' men. the conqueror, mr. titus, brought back twelve thousand of the conquered jews and made 'em work and toil to build up that lofty arch in memory of their own defeat and captivity and his glory. you'd think that wuz enough trouble for 'em, but i've hearn, and it come pretty straight to me, that he misused 'em more or less while they wuz workin' away at it. 'tennyrate, they say a jew won't go under that arch to this day and they've been seen to spit at it, and i spoze they throw things at it more or less on the sly. sez i, "i'd gin 'em a piece of my mind if i knowed they would make me fight with a elephant the next minute." arvilly thought that if she could sold them the "twin crimes" it might have helped 'em to do better, but i d'no as it would. but that great amphitheatre where the blood and agony of the martyrs cried to heaven, was afterwards dedicated to these christian martyrs. there are eighty arches of entrance. only a part of the immense circular wall is now standing, but you can see what it wuz. there are four stories of arches, one hundred and fifty-seven feet high in all, the arena it encloses is two hundred and eighty-seven feet long. dorothy and robert strong and miss meechim went and see it by moonlight, and they say that it wuz a more beautiful sight than words can describe. but i bein' a little afraid of the rumatiz, thought that i had better go by broad daylight, and josiah did, too. i mistrusted that robert and dorothy beheld it by a sweeter and softer light than even the italian moonlight, but i kep' in and didn't speak my mistrustin'. i dast as soon die as gin vent to any such idee before albina meechim. we went one day to see the pantheon, built by mr. agrippa, b.c. it is a dretful big buildin'; i guess about the biggest ancient buildin' in the world. it has had its ups and downs, shown out in brilliant beauty, been stole from and blackened by the hand of time, but it is still beautiful. it wuz dedicated to jupiter at first, and afterwards to the virgin and the christian martyrs, afterwards it was dedicated to all the saints. in speakin' on this subject, josiah said: "what a lot of saints they do have in these furren countries," and says he to me, _soto vosy_, "i'd kinder like, samantha, to get that name; saint josiah would sound well and uneek in jonesville." but i scorfed at the idee, though knowin' that he wuz jest as worthy to be called saint as a good many who wuz called by that name. but josiah is dretful ambitious. when we wuz lookin' at the different pictures of the popes in their high hats, sez he: "how becomin' such a hat would be to me. i believe i shall be took in one when i get home; i could take father allen's and father smith's old stove-pipe hats and set my best one on top, and then cut out a wooden cross on top; how uneek it would be." but i spoze he will forgit it before he gits home--i hope so 'tennyrate. chapter xxx the vatican where the pope keeps house is the biggest house in the world; its dimensions are one thousand one hundred and fifty-one feet, by seven hundred and sixty-seven feet. and if you want to realize the size of such a buildin', you jest try to frame it and you'd find out. why, as i told josiah, joel gowdey is called our best carpenter in jonesville, but if he should try to plan that buildin', where would he be? he is a great case to scratch his head in difficulties, joel is, and i guess he'd be pretty bald before he got through studyin' on it, much less doin' the work. it has twenty courts, two hundred staircases, and 'leven thousand rooms. josiah worried some about it, and sez: "what duz one old man want of 'leven thousand rooms? he can't be in more'n one to time, and if he tried to go round and see if his hired help kep' 'em swep' up and mopped and the winders cleaned, it would keep him on the go the hull time and be too much for him." but i told josiah that mr. pope didn't make use of the hull buildin' his own self, but there wuz libraries in it and museums and picture galleries. i believe myself mr. pope is a real likely man, of which more anon. i don't believe that there is a room in the u. s. or the hull surroundin' world so grand and magnificent as the great hall of the vatican library. it is over two hundred feet long, and glorious in architecture and ornaments from top to bottom. it contains the most priceless treasures in books and manuscripts. for hundreds of years the collection has been constantly growing by purchase, gifts and conquests. one of its choicest treasures is the bible of the fourth century. the picture galleries in the vatican contain pictures and statutes enough, it seems to me, to ornament the parlors of the world if they wuz divided up. and the museum--i don't spoze there is so big a collection in the world of such rare and costly things, and i spoze like as not there will never be another one so large and valuable. i never should try it, nor josiah wouldn't. it would be too big a tug on our strength, if we had oceans of money, and can no more be described than i could count the sands of the sea and set 'em in rows. we thought one day we would visit the pantheon. miss meechim didn't really want to go on account of her conscience partly, and i too felt some as she did, for it wuz a pagan temple riz up to all the gods twenty-seven years before christ. but finally we all did go. as i told miss meechim, we could keep up a stiddy thinkin' on better things, if we wuz lookin' on pagan shrines. she said she wuz afraid that rev. mr. weakdew wouldn't approve of her being there, and she didn't seem to enjoy herself very much and i d'no as i did. but it must have been a glorious place as fur as beauty is concerned in its prime, for it is beautiful in its ruin. there are no windows, but it has a large circular openin' in the ruff through which i spoze the smoke of sacrifice ascended, not much, i believe, above the figures that used to stand up there fifty feet above the marble and porphry pavement--mars, jupiter, apollo, minerva, vulcan, etc., etc. for all everything has been stole from this gorgeous temple that could be, it is grand-lookin' and beautiful now. from the pantheon we went to the capitol--the capituline hill where justice wuz meted out to the public from kings and nobles. we went safely past the two huge lions at the foot of the staircase--though tommy got behind me when he first saw them--past the spot where rianzi wuz killed. here we see no end of statutes of the cæsars, the popes and other influential families. we stood on the spot where brutus made that memorable speech, and i felt that i could almost see that noble figger as he stood there sayin': "friends, romans, countrymen, lend me your ears!" if i had been there, i'd lent him two pairs; mine and josiah's in welcome. the bronze wolf, spoke of by mr. cicero, is still standin' there; and in the museum here we see no end of rich sculpture, statutes, mosaic and beautiful, rare objects of art. pliny's doves made a noble show; they are made of little pieces of stun, one hundred and sixty pieces in an inch; i couldn't done it to save my life. the venus of the capitol looks beautiful; josiah thought she favored sally ann henzy, but i didn't. and, 'tennyrate, sally ann would have scorned to appear in company in that condition; sally ann is real modest. in the pincian garden, we see the villa of lucullus, a brave soldier who had his faults, but wuz a good provider and thought a site of his vittles; he made me think of josiah. and also we see the home of mr. nero--mean creeter--i wuz glad enough he passed away before i got there. my principles on intemperance and monopolies would have riled him up dretful, and arvilly's talk made him hoppin' mad. i d'no what he would have took it into his head to do. and i never should have gin him the freedom of jonesville, never, he needn't thought on't; nor i never should invited him to make a all day's visit to our house, nor a afternoon one, either. they have beautiful fountains in rome. all of a sudden as we went through a narrer street, we see a dazzlin' sheet of water come down from the rock shell work and statutes, clear streams of water seemed to be gushin' out on all sides, fallin' into a big reservoir big enough for a ship to float in, and one day we went to see the baths of caracella. jest think of a bath a mile square, big enough for thirty or forty thousand folks to bathe in at one time. it is all in ruins now, but you can see from the thick walls, tall arches, the sides covered with costly mosaic, what they wuz in their glory. josiah thought he could make a lovely piece of mosaic from the stuns down in our paster and slate stuns. he said if he could cover the front of the barn with the pictures of his travels in stun, some like the travels of ulysses, it would be a boon to jonesville. but good land! it would be a sight to behold made of stuns as big as your hand and all shapes. that ambition must be squenched. josiah breathed this aspiration to me as we went through the hall of the emperors. and they didn't look no better nor so well as the bretheren in the jonesville meetin'-house would if they wuz sculped and josiah said so; though, of course, as i told him, they wuz dressed up more fancy. and he said: "any decent woman would lend her nightgown for her pardner to be sculped in and handkerchief pins and lace under-sleeves and things." poppea sabina, the second wife of mr. nero, wuz a beautiful-lookin' woman, though i don't spoze she wuz what she should be. her husband kicked her to death some time ago. he ort to been kicked himself; i'd been willin' to hire the mule myself to done it, i wuz that put out thinkin' on't. josiah said "poppy sabriny wuz the best-lookin' figger there." arvilly said she most knew he'd been drinkin', it wuz so fashionable for drinkin' men to kick their wives, and sez she: "oh, how i wish i could have canvassed nero for the 'twin crimes' before he done it." and i sez: "it might have been a good thing for mr. nero and for poppy, but i don't know how it would have been with you, arvilly; a man that would kick his wife to death wouldn't be apt to brook a book-agent." "yes," sez josiah, "anybody that would kick poppy sabriny would do anything." sez i: "it would look just as well, josiah, for a perfessor not to talk so much about another woman besides his pardner, even if she is a stun woman." "jealous of a statter!" sez josiah skornfully. "not at all," sez i. "but poppea sabina wuz a pagan, and no better than she should be, and her folks wuzn't likely and----" "jest like a woman!" sez josiah, "a man can't praise up another female, dead or alive, without his pardner picking flaws in 'em." well, i drawed his attention off onto the cæsars, augustus and domitian, and quite a few on 'em. nero's bust i despised lookin' at--brutal tyrant--as josiah truly said anybody that would kill his wife and grandmother would do anything and wuz too mean to be looked at. if i could covered up his face i'd been willin' to used my best crape veil that i mourned for mother allen in. nero's grandma, she that wuz agrepina agrippa, wuz good featured but broken-hearted lookin'. no wonder, havin' such a grandson in the family. arvilly said as she looked at it, that she believed if old miss nero, his grandma, and his own ma had spanked him good and sound and sot him down hard in the corner from day to day he wouldn't acted and behaved so when he got bigger. she said she presoomed he wuz allowed to pierce flies with a pin and torter hornets and may bugs and rob birds' nests and tie cans to dogs' tails and act, and he got worse as he got bigger. and i d'no but she wuz right. i've seen the nero sperit in small boys many times; why, i see it in thomas jefferson when he wuz little, but it wus squenched and he's come up noble. miss meechim wanted to see the paletine hill, the spot where romulus and remus wuz nursed by a she wolf; josiah don't believe it. he said no wolf would consent to bring up twins by hand, and no ma would ever allow it, but that's what they say. miss meechim explained here how when the twins had growed up romulus harnessed a heifer and bull to a plough and laid out the site of the city. robert strong wuz full of memories of cicero, catalus, the gracchi, and so wuz dorothy. but no place interested me there so much as the forum, where some think paul wuz tried. he wuz tried before nero, and there wuz nero's judgment place, and there wuz the seat for prisoners. as i looked round me i could imagine the incomparable eloquence of paul that sways the human heart as leaves are waved by a strong breeze, and his memory sweetened the hull place, and it needed it bad enough, yes indeed it did. but to resoom: one day arvilly and i wuz takin' a walk together, josiah and tommy bein' a little ahead, when we see a elegant carriage comin' along, a rich red color all ornamented with gold, with six horses, their gorgeous harnesses nice enough for bridal ornaments. and there wuz outriders goin' ahead and men in brilliant uniform fallin' in behind, and lots and lots of carriages follerin' on in the procession. there wuz a axident in front, two carriages goin' in opposite directions had smashed in together, and two or three fallin' over them wuz the cause. i see that in that splendid carriage right under my nose as it were, a gentleman sittin' alone, dressed up in a way that would have shed delight into the soul of josiah allen, and a female bystander sez, "there is the pope." he had a bright red robe on, all covered with crosses and stars and orders, and a high peaked cap of the same color. and even as i looked at him i thought what a beautiful stripe them clothes would make in a rag carpet after he'd got through with 'em. you could see he wuz good natered and smart and about as old as salathiel henzy and looked like him. his benign face wuz lookin' over the crowd as if he had a look into a better country. i liked his linement first-rate and believe he is a likely man, and i felt that it would encourage him to hear me say so, and also i felt that there wuz some things that i wanted to advise him for his good. so i advanced to the side of the carriage door and sez, holdin' out my hand in a cordial way: "good mornin', mr. pope; i am glad to see you lookin' so well." bein' took so completely by surprise, he held out his hand. they have told me since that he meant to have me kiss it, but i never thought on't nor shouldn't done it if i had, not bein' in the habit of kissin' strange men's hands; no, i grasped holt of it and shook it warmly just as i would salathiel's. he riz his hand up in benediction and said some words that i couldn't understand, but good ones i know from his looks, and i bent my head as reverent as i would before elder minkley. but as i lifted my eyes what wuz my horrow to see arvilly advance takin' out "the twin crimes" from her work-bag and before i could interfere she had begun to canvass him. sez she: "mr. pope, i have a book here i would like to call your attention to: 'the twin crimes of america: intemperance and greed.'" good creeter, it wuz too bad. but it ended triumphant for arvilly, for whether it wuz my noble words to him that had softened him down or whether it wuz that he knowed how rampant these two evils wuz in the united states and wanted to inform himself still further about it, 'tennyrate he looked the book over and said he would be glad to have the book, and he and two more of the leadin' men nigh him in that procession bought books, arvilly deliverin' 'em on the spot and takin' her money. and if the stoppage in the crowd hadn't let up and they started on, i d'no but she would have canvassed the hull flower of the romish meetin'-house; though we wuz told afterwards by one who pretended to know, that it wuzn't the pope i had talked to and arvilly had canvassed, but some other high dignitary in the meetin'-house. we stayed on in rome longer than we had laid out to, for our sweet dorothy liked it there. and if she had took it into her head to set down on a lonesome rock in mid ocean, like a mermaid, for a week, there would the rest on us be sot round her till her mind changed. for the head of our party would have managed it some way so she could had her way. not that she would do anything aginst the wishes of the rest of us, but she wuz happy there, and the rest of us all liked it and found plenty of things to interest us, but at last we did set out for naples. i had sot a good deal of store on seein' the bay of naples, and so had the other females of our party. robert strong had seen it before. and my pardner when i tried to roust up his interest and admiration by quotin' the remark so often made: "see naples and die." he said he wouldn't do any such thing, not if he could keep alive. "but," sez he, "more'n as likely as not the vile italian cookin' will be too much for me and your prophecy may come true; i may see naples and die--from starvation." but i told him it wuz the incomparable beauty of the seen that wuz meant, that when you'd seen that you had beheld the best and most beautiful the world could offer you and you might as well pass away without tryin' any further. and josiah said he would ruther see the jonesville creek down in the paster back of the house, where it makes a bend round our sugar house and the sugar maples grow clear down to the water's edge, and pussy willers lean down, so the pussy most touch the water, and you can see the brook trout darting about over the clean pebbles, than to see forty napleses. i too felt a good deal the same, but wouldn't encourage him by sayin' so. and the bay of naples wuz beautiful, its beauty stole on you onbeknown and growed and growed till it possessed your hull heart and soul, if you had a soul. it lays like a big blue liquid gem in its encirclin' settin' of fadeless green and flashing white walls, and crowned by the hantin' dretful beauty of mount vesuvius. naples is a big city, the biggest in italy, and as easy to git into from land as jonesville is, only on its principle avenues there are what they call barriers where they collect duties on provisions, etc., brought from the country. josiah thought that would be a splendid thing for him. sez he, "i believe i shall have ury help me and build a barrier in front of my house and take a tax for big loads that go by. why," sez he, "at a cent a load i could make a splendid livin'." but he won't try it. as i told him he might just as well lanch right out on jonesville creek as a corsair, "and i've always said," sez i, "that never would i live on brigandage." some of the streets of naples are narrer and noisy as bedlam with market men and women cryin' out their wares and all sorts of street noises. little donkeys carryin' loads fur too big for our old mair. a sort of a big loose bag hangs on each side on 'em piled up as high as they will hold with fruit, vegetables, flowers, etc. sometimes you will see such a big load walkin' off and can't for your life tell what propels it till bime by you will hear a loud bray from underneath. it sounds quite scareful. the little ridin' wagons of the poor people are packed too as i never see a hoss car in the u. s. sometimes you will see more'n two dozen folks, priests, soldiers, men, women and children, and sometimes baskets full of vegetables and babies swingin' underneath and all drawed by a donkey; it hain't right and i wanted to talk to 'em about it, but didn't know as they would hear to me. but our old mair is used fur different. the cathedral is quite a noble lookin' buildin' and contains tombs of many noted people, pope innocent, king andrew, charles i. of anjou, and many, many others. the piazza del municipio has a beautiful fountain, and there is one fashionable promenade over two hundred feet wide containing all sorts of trees and shrubs where you can see the neopolitans dressed in fine array. there is a terrace extending into the sea, temples, winding paths, grottos, etc. the piazza del plebiscito has an equestrian statute that wuz taken in the first place for napoleon, then changed to general murat and finally to charles iii. it made me think considerable of the daily papers who use one picture for all social and criminal purposes, and for queen victoria and lydia pinkham. some of the principal streets are straight and handsome, with blocks of lava right out of the bosom of the earth for pavement. it give me queer feelin's to tread on't thinkin' that it come from a place way down in the earth that we didn't know anything about and thinkin' what strange things it could tell if stuns could talk. some of the best streets had sidewalks. it is well lighted by gas. as you walk along the streets you see rich and poor, beggar and priest, soldier and peasant, every picturesque costoom you can think on and all sorts of faces. but there seems to be a kind of a happy-go-lucky air in 'em all, even to the beggars and the little lazy, ragged children layin' in the sunshine. the people live much out of doors here, you can see 'em washin' and dressin' the children, and doin' housework, and everything right from the street, and though i don't spoze the poor suffer so much here on account of the warm climate, yet dirt and rags and filth and vermin didn't look any better to me here than they did in jonesville. in naples as a rule the lower parts of the houses are shops, restaurants, etc., and the upper stories are used for dwellings. the beautiful terraces of the city and the flat roofs of the houses are covered with shrubs and flowers, and filled with gayly dressed promenaders, givin' it a gay appearance. and you don't see in the faces of the crowd any expression of fear for the danger signal that smokes up in the sky, no more than our faces to home show signs of our realizin' the big danger signals on our own horizon. i d'no as i ever had hearn of the third city that wuz destroyed when herculaneam and pompeii wuz. but vesuvius did put an end to another city called stabea at that time, most two thousand years ago, but that is some years back and i d'no as it is strange that the news hadn't got to jonesville yet. naples has three hundred meetin'-houses, enough you would say to make the citizens do as they ort to. but i don't spoze they do. i hearn, and it come quite straight, too, that it is a dretful city for folks to act and behave, though it used us real well. it has a good many theatres and has a large museum where i would be glad to spent more time than i did. dretful interestin' to me wuz the rich frescoes and marbles dug up in the buried cities. just to think on't how long they stayed down there under the ground, and now come out lookin' as well as ever whilst the love or the ambition that carved the exquisite lines have gone away so fur that we can't foller 'em; way into some other planet, mebby. bronze statutes, the finest collection in the world they say, and all sorts of weapons, etruscian vases, coins, tablets, marbles, ornaments of all kinds enough to make your head feel dizzy to glance at 'em. some of the statutes i didn't want josiah to see; they wuzn't dressed decent to appear in company, but then agin i knew he wuz a perfessor and had always read about the garden of eden and eve when she and adam first took the place and wuz so scanty on't for clothes, but i didn't like their looks. miss meechim thought they wuz genteel and called it high art, and josiah, for a wonder, agreed with her; they hardly ever think alike. but i sez, "josiah allen, while i am a livin' woman, and a methodist sister, you never will be sculped with nothin' but a towel hung over one arm, not even a paper collar on, and," sez i, "what should we think to go into a photograph gallery to home and see sister bobbett and sister gowdey portrayed with a little mosquiter nettin' slung over one shoulder?" sez i, "it would be the town's talk and ort to be--you can call it high art, miss meechim, if you want to, but i shall always call it low art." miss meechim murmured sunthin' about its bein' genteel, and josiah looked round and didn't pay the attention to my earnest words that he ort to. i believe they did for a spell shet up them statters of venus, but they had let 'em out agin when we wuz there. there wuz one statter of a woman with the top of her head and her arms off. josiah said to me: "the idee of puttin' that poor cripple in here amongst decent lookin' wimmen; if they pictured her at all they ought to pictured her as bein' carried to a hosspital." miss meechim wuz nigh by and i see she had gone almost into spazzums of admiration over it, and on our family's account, didn't want to fall too low down in her estimation, so i wunk at him and whispered, "josiah, that is the celebrated sikey; it is the proper thing to fall into extacies of admiration and wonder when you see it." and i as i say not wantin' to demean myself any further before miss meechim, put up my two hands in an attitude of wonder, but which she could take for admiration if she wanted to, but i didn't say it wuz. but josiah sez, "catch me a praisin' up a no armed female, one who has been scalped, too, in the bargain." i hope miss meechim didn't hear him. she always praised just what wuz proper to praise, she always read in her guide book just what she ought to admire and then proceeded to admire it to once. as she boasted her mind wuz a eminently conservative and genteel mind. as for me my mind and sperit loved to grope around more and find out things to praise and blame by rote and not by note, and dorothy and robert strong was some so. arvilly wuz more bent on disseminatin' her books to help and instruct, and would have canvassed michael angelo himself for the "twin crimes," turning her back onto his most wonderful creations. as for josiah, a wild goat leapin' through museums and picture galleries couldn't have been more scornful of contemporaneous judgment exceptin' when he tried to be fashionable. dear little tommy would wander round with his arms clasped behind him under his velvet jacket and wonner at things to himself, and i spoze carabi walked up and down beside him though we couldn't see him. sometimes i felt kinder conscience smitten to think i couldn't honestly admire what seemed to be the proper thing to, and then agin i kinder leaned up agin the memory of john ruskin and how he liked in art what he did like, and not what it was fashionable to, and i felt comforted. one day, tired out with sightseein' and havin' sunthin' of a headache, i stayed to home while all the rest of the party went out and miss meechim invited me into their settin'-room as it wuz cooler there, so i had sot there for some time readin' a good book and enjoyin' my poor health as well as i could, when a card wuz brung in for robert strong. i told the hall boy that he wuz out but wuz expected back soon, and in a few minutes he come back usherin' in a good lookin' man who said he wuz anxious to see him on business and that he would wait for him. i knowed him from his picture as well as his card; it wuz mr. astofeller, a multi-millionaire, who had got his enormous wealth from trusts and monopolies. i couldn't go back into my room for josiah had the key, and so we introduced ourselves and had quite a agreeable visit, when all of a sudden right whilst we wuz talkin' polite and agreeable two long strings dangled down in front of the eyes of my soul, strings i had often clung to. well i knowed 'em, and i sez to myself almost wildly: oh, duty! must i cling to thy apron-strings here and now, enjoyin' as i do poor health and in another woman's room? for reply, them strings dangled down lower yet, and i had to reach up the arms of my sperit and gently but firmly grip holt on 'em and stiddy myself on 'em whilst i tackled him on the subject of monopolies, having some hopes i could convert him and make him give 'em up then and there and turn round and be on the lord's side. and bein' so dretful anxious to convince him, i begun some as the m. e. ministers sometimes do in a low, still voice, gradually risin' higher and deeper and more earnest. i told him my idees of trusts and monopolies and what a danger i thought they wuz to individual and national life. and i described the feelin's i felt to see such droves of poor people out of work and starvin' for the necessaries of life, whilst a few wuz pilin' up enormous and onneeded wealth, and i sez: "mr. astofeller, what good does it do to heap up such a lot of money jest to think you own it and hide it from the tax collector? and bring up your daughters to luxury and foolish display, their gole being to give you a titled son-in-law who will bend down toward you from his eminence jest fur enough to reach your pockets, and if you refuse to have them emptied too many times you will anon or oftener have your daughter returned to you, her beauty eat up by sorrow, her ears tinglin' and heart burnin' with experiences a poor girl would never know. and bring up your sons to idleness and temptation, when you know, mr. astofeller, that it is earnest toil, wise-headed, hard-handed step-ma, that goads her sons on to labor and success. and it is not, as a rule, the sons of millionaires who are our great men. it is the sons of labor and privation that hold the prizes of life to-day and will to-morrow." and sez i, reasonable: "what is the use, mr. astofeller, of so much money, anyway? you can't ride in but one buggy at a time, or wear more than one coat and vest, or sleep on more than one bed and three pillers at the outside, or eat more than three meals a day with any comfort, so why not let poorer folks have a chance to eat one meal a day--lots of 'em would be tickled to death to. "our lord said: 'take no thought for the morrow what ye shall eat or what ye shall drink;' and he must have meant that the time wuz comin' when juster laws should prevail, when mammon should yield to mercy and plunder changed to plenty for all and no burden of riches for any. the bible sez that in those days when the pure influence of jesus still rested on his disciples that they had everything in common." sez mr. astofeller, "start ten men out rich monday morning, and nine of them would be poor saturday night, and the tenth one would own the money of all the rest." and i sez: "i presoom so, if they had their own way, and that is a big argument to prove that there ought to be a wise head and a merciful hand at the hellum to look out for the hull on 'em. a good father and mother with a big family of children takes care of the hull on 'em. and if one is miserly and one a spendthrift and one a dissipator and one over-ambitious they watch over 'em and curb these different traits of theirn and adjust 'em to the good of all and the honor of their pa and ma. they spur on the indolent and improvident, hold back the greedy and ambitious, watch and see that the careless and good-natured don't git trod on, nor the strong make slaves of the weaker. the feeble are protected, temptations are kept out of the way of the feeble wills; the honest, industrious ones hain't allowed to perish for want of work they would gladly do, and the strong, keen-witted ones hain't allowed to steal from the onfaculized ones. why, how it would look for that pa to let some of his children heap up more money than they could use, whilst some of the children wuz starvin'? it would make talk and ort to." mr. astofeller said, "millionaires are very charitable; look at their generous gifts on every side." and i sez, "yes, that's so; but charity, though she's a good creeter and well thought on, hain't so good as justice in lots of places." he sez, "we give big gifts to the churches." and i sez, "yes, i know it; but do you think that the lord is goin' to think any better on you for raisin' up costly temples sacred to the lord who specially said in his first sermon that he had come to preach the gospel to the poor, give sight to the blind, set at liberty them that are bound? as it is you rare up magnificent temples and hire eloquent clergymen to preach the doctrine that condemns you if they preach the bible, which a good many on 'em do. for you must remember what it sez: "if you who have plenty give not to your brother in need, how dwelleth the love of god in you? and if you have two coats and your poorer brother has none, you ort to give him your second best one. and you kneel down on your soft hassocks and pray all your enormous, needless wealth away from you, for you pray, 'thy kingdom come,' which you know is the kingdom of love and equality and justice, and 'thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,' when you know that god's will is mercy, pity and love. and 'give us our daily bread,' when you must know that you are takin' it right out of the mouths of the poor when you are makin' your big corners on wheat and meat, and freezin' the widder and orphan when you make your corners on coal." sez i, "look at robert strong's city of justice. love, peace and happiness rains there. every workman is content, for he has his pay for his labor and a fair percentage on profits. if the factory is prosperous the workman knows that he gets just as much accordin' for the work he puts in as if he owned the hull thing, and it is for his advantage to give good work and help it along all he can. "intemperance is not allowed to show its hoof and horns inside that city, for that would be injustice to the weak-willed and their families. greed and plunder and the whiskey power has to stay outside, for the bible sez without are dogs. "robert strong might wring all the money he could from these workmen, wrop himself in a jewelled robe and set up in a gold chair and look down on the bent forms of the poor, sweating and groaning and striking and starving below him. but he don't want to. he is down there right by the side of 'em. capital and labor walking side by side some like the lion and the lamb. he has enough for his wants, and they have enough for their wants, and there is mutual good-will there and peace and happiness. hain't that better than discontent and envy and despair, bloody riots and revolutions? cold, selfish, greedy capital clutching its money-bags, and cowering and hiding away from starvin' infuriated strikers." sez i, growin' real eloquent, "monopoly is the great american brigand hid in the black forest of politics. it has seized labor in its clutches and wrings a ransom out of every toiler in the land. "monopoly steals out of uncle sam's pocket with one hand and with the other clutches the bread-money out of the tremblin' weak fingers of the poor. is our law," sez i, "a travesty, a vain sham, that a man that steals millions for greed goes unpunished, while a man who steals a loaf to keep his children from starvin' is punished by our laws and scorfed at? monopoly makes the poor pay tribute on every loaf of bread and bucket of coal, and the govermunt looks on and helps it. shame! shame that it is so!" sez mr. astofeller, "where would the world be to-day if it wuzn't for rich people building railroads, stringing telegraph and telephone wires, binding the cities and continents together?" "yes," sez i, "i set store by what they've done, just as i do on them good old creeters who used to carry the mails in their saddle-bags for so much a year. folks felt tickled to death, i spoze, when they could send a letter by somebody for cents a letter. and it wuz a great improvement on havin' to write and send it by hum labor, a boy and a ox team. but when i see uncle sam can carry 'em for two cents and one cent a-piece, why i can't help favorin' the idee of givin' uncle sam the job. and if he can carry letters so much cheaper why can't he carry packages at just the same reduced rate, and talk over the wires, etc., etc.? "not that i look down on them saddle-bags--fur from it--i honor 'em and i honor the rich men that have cut iron roads through continents, mountain and abyss, honor them that have made talkin' under the ocean possible and through the pathless air. yes, indeed, i honor 'em from nearly the bottom of my heart. but i would honor 'em still more if they should now all on 'em stand up in a row before uncle sam, and say, we have done all we could to help the people (and ourselves at the same time), and now as we see that you can help 'em still more than we can, we turn our improvements all over into your hands to use for the people, for you can make travel jest as much cheaper as letter carryin', and do it just as peaceable. why, what a stir it would make on earth and in heaven, and uncle sam would see that they didn't lose anything by it. he'd see jest what a grand thing they wuz doin', and pay 'em well for it. and these rich men, instead of leavin' their wealth in bags of greenbacks for moth and rust and lawyers to corrupt, and fightin' heirs to break through their wills and steal, would leave it in grateful memories and a niche in history where their benine faces would stand up with all the great benefactors of the race. hain't that better, mr. astofeller, than to leave jest money for a fashionable wife and golf-playin' sons to run through?" mr. astofeller said he believed it wuz better; he looked real convinced. and seein' him in this softened frame of mind i went on and brung up a number of incidents provin' that the great folks of the past had held a good many of my idees in regard to wealth. i reminded him of mr. cincinnatus who did so much to make rome glorious, when the public sought him out for honors (he not a-prancin' through the country with torch-light processions and a brass band, talkin' himself hoarse, and lavishin' money to git it), no indeed, when they sought him for a candidate for public honors they found him a not fixin' up the primarys and buyin' bosses, but ploughin' away, just as peaceable as his oxen, workin' on his own little farm of four acres. he wuz satisfied with makin' enough to live on. live and let live was his motto. "and mr. regulus, the leader of the great roman forces, wuz satisfied with his little farm of seven acres, creepin' up a little in amount from four to seven. but it wuzn't till long, long afterwards that the rich grew enormously rich and the poor poorer, and what a man had wuz honored instead of what he wuz. over and over the drama has been played out, moderation and contentment, luxury and discontent, revolution and ruin, but i did hope that our republic, havin' more warnin's and nigher the millenium, wouldn't go the same old jog trot up, up--up, and down, down, down. i wuz some in hopes they would hear to me, but i d'no." i could see that mr. astofeller wuz greatly impressed by what i said. i see he took out his watch a number of times, wantin' to see, i mistrusted, the exact minute that i said different things. he wuz jest like the rest of them millionaires, a first-rate lookin' and actin' creeter when you git down to the real man, but run away with by ambition and greed, a span that will take the bits in their mouth and dash off and carry any one further than they mean to be carried. he didn't say so right out but he kinder gin me to understand that i'd convinced him more'n a little. and i am lookin' every day to see him make a dicker with uncle sam (a good-hearted creeter too as ever lived uncle sam is, only led away sometimes by bad councillors), yes, i expect he will make a dicker with uncle sam for the good of the public and hasten on the day of love and justice. i am lookin' for it and prayin' for it; in fact the hull world is prayin' for it every day whether they know it or not when they pray "thy kingdom come." but to resoom: robert strong and josiah come back almost simeltaneously, and i don't know what mr. astofeller's bizness wuz with robert, sunthin' about california affairs, i guess, mebby politics or sunthin'. but 'tennyrate, if it wuz anything out of the way i know he would never get robert to jine in with him. chapter xxxi from naples we went to athens, dorothy wantin' to see greece while she was so nigh to it, and robert strong wantin' just what she did every time. and miss meechim sayin' that it would be a pity to go home and not be able to say that we had been to what wuz once the most learned and genteel place in the hull world. "yes," sez josiah, "i'd love to tell elder minkley and the brethern i'd been there." and miss meechim went on to say that she wanted to see the acropolis and the hall of the nymphs and the muses. and josiah told me that "they wuz nobody he had ever neighbored with and didn't know as he wanted to." i guess miss meechim didn't hear him for she went on and said, "athens wuz named from athena, the goddess minerva." and josiah whispered to me "to know if it wuz minerva slimpsey, simon's oldest sister." and i sez, "no, this minerva, from what i've hearn of her, knew more than the hull slimpsey family," sez i. "she wuz noted for her wisdom and knowledge, and i spoze," sez i, "that she wuz the daughter of jupiter." josiah said jupiter wuz nobody he ever see, though he wuz familiar with his name. and i'd hearn on him too when josiah smashed his finger or slipped up on the ice or anything, not that i wanted to in that tone. arvilly thought mebby she could canvass the royal family or some on 'em, and tommy wuz willin' to go to any new place, and i spoze carabi wuz too. and i said i wanted to stand on mars' hill, where paul preached to the people about idolatry and their worship of the unknown god. as we sailed along the shores dorothy spoke of sapho. poor creeter! i wuz always sorry for her. you know she wuz disappointed, and bein' love-sick and discouraged she writ some poetry and drownded herself some time ago. and robert strong talked a good deal to dorothy about plato and homer and xenophon and euripides, sophocles, phidias, and socrates--and lots more of them old worthies; folks, josiah remarked to me, that had never lived anywhere round jonesville way, he knew by the names. and dorothy quoted some poetry beginning: "the isles of greece, the isles of greece." and robert quoted some poetry. i know two lines of it run: "maid of athens, ere we part, give, o, give me back my heart." but his eyes wuzn't on athens at all. they wuz on dorothy, and her face flushed up as rosy a pink as ever miss sapho's did when she wuz keepin' company. after we left the boat we rode over a level plain with green trees by the wayside till we reached athens and put up at a good tarven. athens, "the eye of greece," mother of arts and eloquence, wuz built in the first place round the acropolis, a hill about three hundred feet high, and is a place that has seen twice as many ups and downs as jonesville. but then it's older, three or four thousand years older, i spoze, and has had a dretful time on't since mr. theseus's day, take it with its archons or rulers, kings and generals, and turks, goths and franks, etc. but it become the fountainhead of learning and civilization, culture and education of the mind and the body. in that age of health and beauty, study and exercise, the wimmen didn't wear any cossets, consequently they could breathe deep breaths and enjoy good health, and had healthy little babies that they brought up first-rate as fur as the enjoyment of good health goes, and arvilly said she knew they didn't drink to excess from the looks of their statutes. athens also claims to be one of the birthplaces of homer, that good old blind poet. robert strong talked quite a good deal about his poems, the iliad and the odyssy or the return of ulysses odysses to his native land. josiah paid great attention to it, and afterwards he confided to me that he thought of writin' a jodyssy or the return of josiah to jonesville. he said when he recounted all his wanderin's and tribulations on the road and at tarvens with starvation and tight clothes and all the other various hampers he'd been hampered with he said that it would beat that old odyssy to nothin' and nobody would ever look at it agin. "why," sez he, "jest think how old that is, most a thousand years b. c. it is time another wuz writ, and i'm the one to write it." but i shall try to talk him out of it. he said he shouldn't begin it till our return to jonesville, so ury could help him in measurin' the lines with a stick. and when i am once mistress of my own cook-stove and buttery i have one of the most powerful weepons in the world to control my pardner with. i hain't no great case to carry round relics, but i told josiah that i would give a dollar bill quick if i could git holt of that old lantern that diogenes used to carry round here in the streets in broad daylight to find truth with. how i'd love to seen mr. diogenes and asked him if he ever found her. josiah said he would ruther own his wash-tub that he used to travel round in. and which he wuz settin' in when alexander the great asked him what costly gift he could bestow on him. and all that contented, independent creeter asked for wuz to have the king not git between him and the sun. he snubbed plato, too; didn't want anything, only his tub and his lantern and hunt round for a honest man, though i don't see how he got round in it. but josiah sez the tub wuz on castors, and he had a idee of havin' our old washtub fixed up and go to washington, d. c., in it with our old tin lantern, jest to be uneek and hunt round there for an honest man. sez i middlin' dry, "you may have to go further, josiah." but i shan't encourage him in it. and our wash-tub wouldn't hold him up anyway; the hoops had sprung loose before i left home. at the southwest of athens is the mount hymettus. i'd hearn a sight about its honey. josiah thought he would love to buy a swarm of bees there, but i asked him how could he carry 'em to jonesville. he said that if he could learn 'em to fly ahead on us he could do it. but he can't. the road west wuz eulusas, the sacred way. and to the north wuz the academy of plato, and that of aristotle wuz not fur away. one day i see there on an old altar, "sacred to either a god or goddess." they believed in the rights of wimmen, them old pagans did, which shows there is good in everything. and how smart socrates wuz; i always sot store by him, he wuz a good talker and likely in a good many ways, though i spoze he and his wife didn't live agreeable, and there might have been blame on both sides and probable wuz. how calm he wuz when on trial for his life, and when he had drunk the hemlock, sayin' to his accusers: "i go to death and you to life; but which of the twain is better is known only to divinity." and mr. plato; don't it seem as if that old pagan's words wuz prophetic of christ when he spoke of an inspired teacher: "this just person must be poor, void of all qualifications save virtue. a wicked world will not bear his instructions and reproofs. and therefore within three or four years after he begun to preach he should be persecuted, imprisoned, scourged, and at last put to death." hundreds of years after, paul preaching the religion of christ jesus, met the epicurians and stoics representing pleasure and pride. strong foes that religion has to contend with now. then he addressed the multitude from the areopagus, mars' hill. what feelin's i felt; how real and nigh to my heart his incomparable sermon that he preached in that place seemed to be as i stood there. i thought of how the cultured, beauty-loving nature of paul must have been affected by his surroundings as he stood there in the midst of statutes and altars to apollo, venus, bacchus. the colossial golden figure of minerva, holdin' in her outstretched right hand a statute of victory, four cubits high. so big and glorious-lookin' minerva wuz that her glitterin' helmet and shield could be seen fur out to sea. the statute of neptune on horseback hurling his tridant; the temple to ceres and all the gods and goddesses they knew on and to the unknown god. here paul stood surrounded by all these temples so magnificent that jest the gateway to 'em cost what would be ten million dollars in our money. here in the face of all this glory he stood up and declared that the true god, "lord of heaven and earth dwelt not in temples made with hands." and he went on to preach the truth in christ jesus: repentance, remission of sin, the resurrection of the dead. some mocked and some put him off by saying they would hear him again of this matter. they felt so proud, their glory and magnificence seemed so sure and enduring, their learning, art and accomplishments seemed so fur above this obscure teacher of a new religion. but there i stood on the crumbling ruins of all this grandeur and art. and the god of paul that they had scorned to "feel after if haply they might find him," wuz dominating the hull world, bringing it to the knowledge of christ jesus: "the gold and silver and stone wrought by many hands" had crumbled away while the invisible wuz the real, the truth wuz sure and would abide forever. how real it all seemed to me as i stood there and my soul listened and believed like dionysos and damarus! the market place wuz just below mars' hill, and i spoze the people talked it over whilst they wuz buyin' and sellin' there, about a strange man who had come preachin' a new doctrine and who had asked to speak to the people. it sez, "his heart was stirred within him and he taught them about the true god" in the synagogue and market-place. as we stood there in that hallowed spot, miss meechim said: "oh, that i had been there at that time and hearn that convincin' sermon, how glad would i have left all and followed him, like dionysos and damarus." "well, i d'no," sez arvilly, "as folks are any more willin' now to let their old idols of selfishness and mammon go and renounce the faults and worship the truth than they wuz then." miss meechim scorfed at the idee, but i pondered it in my own mind and wondered how many there really wuz from jonesville to chicago, from maine to florida, ready to believe in him and work for the millenium. but to resoom. the patessia is a beautiful avenoo, the royal family drive there every day and the nobility and fashionable people. the greek ladies wear very bright clothing in driving or walking. the road looks sometimes like a bed of moving blossoms. as in most every place where we travelled, robert strong met someone he knew. here wuz a gentleman he had entertained in california, and he gave a barbecue or picnic for us at phalareum. a special train took the guests to it. there wuz about thirty guests from athens. the table wuz laid in a pavilion clost to the sea shore covered with vines, evergreens and flowers. four lambs wuz roasted hull and coffee wuz made in a boiler, choice fruits and foods were served and wines for them that wanted 'em. it is needless to say that i didn't partake on't, and josiah, i'm proud to say, under my watchful eyes, refused to look on it when it wuz red, and arvilly and robert strong and dorothy turned down their glasses on the servant's approach bearin' the bottles. everything wuz put on the table to once and a large piece of bread to each plate. no knives or forks are used at a barbecue. we had sweetmeats, rose leaf glyco, oranges and all kinds of fruit. the way they roast a lamb at a barbecue--two large lambs are placed about four feet apart, the lamb pierced lengthwise by a long pointed stick is hung over the bed of live coals. they turn and baste it with olive oil and salt and it is truly delicious. one pleasant day we visited the king's country place. the dining room wuz a pavilion in a shady spot under orange trees full of fruit and blossoms surrounded with a dense hedge of evergreens, vines and blossoms. there wuz walks in every direction bordered with lovely flowers. the queen's private settin' room is a pretty room, the furniture covered with pink and white cretonne, no better than my lounge is covered with to home in the spare room. and in a little corner, hid by a screen of photographs wuz her books and writing desk. the maids of honor had rooms in a little vine covered cottage near by. we of course went to see the ruins of the parthenium, built by pericles and ornamented with the marbles of phidias. it wuz finished about four hundred and thirty years b.c. and cost about four millions of our money. a great bishop once said: "this was the finest edifice on the finest site in the world, hallowed by the noblest recollections that can stimulate the human heart." it stands on the highest point of the acropolis and wuz decorated by the greatest sculptor the world ever saw. it stands on the site of an older temple to minerva. they thought a sight of that woman. it made me feel well to see one of my sect so highly thought on though i did not approve of their worshippin' her and i would never give my consent to be worshipped on a monument, not for the world i wouldn't--no, indeed! robert strong wanted to go to see the ruins of the enormous temple of jupiter where chariot races were run and the olympic games wuz fought that paul speaks of so many times in his letters to the churches. but time wuz passin' fast away and we thought best to not linger there any longer and we went directly from there to vienna, a longer journey than we had took lately, but robert thought we had better not stop on the way. vienna is a beautiful city. i d'no as i would go so fur as the viennesse myself and say it is the most beautiful in the world, but it stands up high amongst 'em. the beautiful blue danube makes a curve round it as if it wuz real choice of it and loved to hold it in its arms. i say blue danube, but its waters are no more blue than our jonesville creek is pink. but mebby if i wuz goin' to sing about the creek i might call it blue or pink for poetical purposes. we had rooms nigh to the river, the banks of which wuz terraced down to the water, and laid out in little parks, public gardens full of flowers and trees and flowering shrubs. there are two massive stun bridges in this part of the city, and very handsome dwellin' houses, churches, and the swartzenburg palace. the buildings are very handsome here, more lofty and grand looking even than they are in paris, and you know you would imagine that wuz the flower of the universe, and i needn't mention the fact that i had to gin into it that it goes fur beyend jonesville. the street called the ring strasse, i spoze because it curves round some like a ring, is three milds long, and most two hundred feet wide. and along this broad beautiful avenue there are six rows of large chestnut trees. a track for horseback riders on one side, a broad carriage driveway, two fine promenades, besides the walk. splendid buildin's rise up on each side of this grand street, and parks and gardens abound. at intervals there are large roomy lawns, covered with velvety grass, where easy seats under the trees invite you to rest and admire the beauty around you, and the happy, gayly-dressed throng passing and repassing in carriages, on horseback or walkin' afoot, thousands and thousands on 'em, and everyone, i spoze, a pursuin' their own goles, whatever they may be. the first place we went to see wuz st. stephen's church. this is on a street much narrower than the ring strasse. the sidewalks wuz very narrer here, so when you met folks you had to squeeze up pretty nigh the curbstun or step out into the carriage way; but no matter how close the quarters wuz you would meet with no rough talk or impoliteness. they wuz as polite as the japans, with more intelligence added. st. stephen's cathedral is a magnificent gothic structure, three hundred and fifty-four feet long and two hundred and thirty broad, and is full of magnificent monuments, altars, statutes, carving, etc., etc. the monument to the emperor frederic iii. has over two hundred figures on it. here is the tomb of the king of rome, napoleon's only son, and his ma, maria louise. i had queer feelin's as i stood by them tombs and meditated how much ambition and heart burnin' wuz buried here in the tomb of that young king of rome. i thought of how his pa divorced the woman he loved, breakin' her heart, and his own mebby, for the ambitious desire to have a son connected with the royalty of europe, to carry on his power and glory, and make it more permanent. and how the new wife turned away from him in his trouble, and the boy died, and he carried his broken heart into exile. and the descendant of the constant-hearted woman he put away, set down on the throne of france, and then he, too, and his boy, had to pass away like leaves whirled about in the devastatin' wind of war and change. what ups and downs! i had a variety of emotions as i stood there, and i guess josiah did, though i don't know. but i judged from his liniment; he looked real demute. the catacombs under this meetin'-house are a sight to see i spoze, but we didn't pay a visit to 'em. josiah had a idee that they wuz built to bury cats in, and he said he didn't want to go to any cat buryin'-ground. he said there wuzn't a cat in europe so likely as ourn, but he wouldn't think of givin' it funeral honors. but he didn't git it right. it wuz a place where they buried human bein's, but i didn't care anything about seein' it. robert got a big carriage, and we all driv over to the prater, a most beautiful park on an island in the danube. the broad, flower-bordered avenues wuz crowded with elegant carriages and beautiful forms and faces wuz constantly passing hither and yon, to and fro, and the scene all round us wuz enchantin'ly beautiful. we had a delightful drive, and when we got back to the tarven we found quite a lot of letters that had been forwarded here. josiah and i had letters from jonesville, welcome as the voice of the first bird in spring, all well and hopeful of our speedy meetin'; but miss meechim had one tellin' of dretful doin's in her old home. we'd heard that there had been a great labor strike out in california, but little did we know how severe it had struck. rev. mr. weakdew had writ to miss meechim how some of the rebellious workmen had riz up against his son in his absence. he told how wickedly they wuz actin' and how impossible it wuz in his opinion to make them act genteel, but he said in his letter that his son had been telegrafted to to come home at once. he said mudd-weakdew always had been successful in quelling these rebellious workmen down, and making them keep their place, and he thought he would now as soon as he arrived there. i know arvilly and miss meechim had words about it when she read the letter. miss meechim deplored the state of affairs, and resented arvilly's talk; she said it was so wicked to help array one class aginst another. "they be arrayed now," sez arvilly. "selfishness and greed are arrayed aginst justice and humanity, and the baby peace is bein' trompled on and run over, and haggard want and famine prowl on the bare fields of poverty, waitin' for victims, and the cries of the perishin' fill the air." arvilly turned real eloquent. i mistrusted mebby she'd catched it from me, but miss meechim turned up her nose and acted dretful high-headed and said there was nothing genteel in such actions and she wouldn't gin in a mite till that day in vienna she had a letter that brought her nose down where it belonged, and she acted different after readin' it and didn't talk any more about gentility or the onbroken prosperity of the mudd-weakdews, and i wuz shocked myself to hear what wuz writ. as i say, miss meechim read it and grew pale, the letter dropped in her lap and she trembled like a popple leaf, for it told of a dretful tragedy. it wuz writ by a friend in sacramento and the tragedy wuz concernin' the mudd-weakdews. on hearin' of the strike, the mudd-weakdews had hurried home from their trip abroad and he had tried to quell the strike, but found it wouldn't quell. he had been shot at but not killed; the shot went through his eyes, and he would be blind for life. a deadly fever had broke out in the tenements on the street back of his palace, caused, the doctors said, by the terrible onsanitary surroundings, and helped on by want and starvation. the families of his workmen had died off like dead leaves fallin' from rotten trees in the fall. the tenements wuz not fur from the mudd-weakdew garden where dorris loved to stay, who had stayed at home with a governess and a genteel relative during her parents' absence. the garden wuz full of trees, blossoms and flowering shrubs, a fountain dashed up its clear water into the air and tall white statutes stood guard over dorris in her happy play. but some deadly germ wuz wafted from that filthy, ghastly place, over the roses and lilies and pure waters, and sweet dorris wuz the victim. the clear waters and fresh green lawns and fragrant posies didn't extend fur enough back; if they had her life might have been saved, but they only went as fur as the sharp wall her pa had riz up and thought safely warded his own child from all the evils of the lower classes. no, it didn't go fur enough back, and sweet dorris had to pay the penalty of her pa's blindness and selfishness. for what duz the book say? "the innocent shall suffer for the guilty." her broken-hearted mother followed her to the grave, and it wuz on that very day, mudd-weakdew bein' shut up with doctors, that the little boy wuz stolen. the discharged workman, whose little boy had died of starvation, disappeared too. he wuz said to be half-crazy and had threatened vengeance on his old employer. there wuz a story that he had been seen with a child richly dressed, and afterwards with a child dressed in the coarse clothing of the poor, embarking on a foreign ship, but the clue wuz lost, so the living trouble wuz worse to bear than the dead one. the strike wuz ended, capital coming out ahead; the workmen had lost, and the mudd-weakdews had a chance to coin more money than ever out of the half-paid labor and wretched lives of their men. they could still be exclusive and foller the star of gentility till it stood over the cold marble palace of disdainful nobility. but the wall of separation he had built up between wealth and poverty had not stood the strain; deadly pestilence, triumphant hatred and sharp-toothed revenge had clumb over and attacked him with their sharp fangs, him and his wife, and they had to bear it. i knowed it, i knowed that no walls can ever be built high enough to separate the sordid, neglected, wretched lives of the poor and the luxurious, pleasure-filled lives of the rich. between the ignorant criminal classes and the educated and innocent. you may make 'em strong as the pyramaids and high as the tower of babel, but the passions and weaknesses of humanity will scale 'em and find a way through. the vile air of the low lands will float over into and contaminate the pure air of the guarded pleasure gardens, and the evil germs will carry disease, crime and death, no matter how many fountains and white statutes and posies you may set up between. envy, discontent and revenge will break through the walls and meet oppression, insolence and injustice, and they will tear and rend each other. they always have and always will. robert strong, instead of buildin' up that wall, spends his strength in tearin' it down and settin' on its crumblin' ruins the white flowers of love and peace. holdin' oppression and injustice back with a hard bit and makin' 'em behave, makin' envy and hatred sheath their claws some as a cat will when it is warm and happy. he tears down mouldy walls and lets the sunshine in. pullin' up what bad-smellin' weeds he can in the gardens of the poor, and transplantin' some of the overcrowded posy beds of the rich into the bare sile, makin' 'em both look better and do better. i set store by him. but to resoom: chapter xxxii amongst my letters wuz one from evangeline noble tellin' of her safe arrival in africa and of the beginning of her work there, some like strikin' a match to light a lamp in a dark suller, but different from that because the light she lit wuz liable to light other lamps, and so on and on and on till no tellin' what a glorious brilliance would shine from the one little rushlight she wuz kindlin'. she felt it, she wuz happy with that best kind of happiness, doin' good. she spoke of cousin john richard, too; he wuz not in the same place she wuz, but she hearn of him often, for his life wuz like a vase filled with the precious ointment broke at the feet of jesus. broken in a earthly sense, but the rich aroma sweetened the whole air about and ascended to the very heavens. a missionary she knew had seen him just before she wrote me. he wuz working, giving his life and finding it again, useful, happy, beloved. not a success in a worldly way; mudd-weakdew would have called it a dead failure. in place of a palace, cousin john richard could not call even the poor ruff that sheltered him his own. instead of a retinue of servants, cousin john richard worked diligently with his hands to earn his daily bread; instead of stocks and bonds bringing him rich revenues, he had only the title deeds of the house of many mansions, and mudd-weakdew would not have accepted any deeds unless signed before a notary and sealed with our govermunt stamp. no wealth, no luxuries, not hardly the necessities of life had cousin john richard, whilst mudd-weakdew wuz steeped in the atmosphere of wealth and grandeur for which he had lived and toiled, yet cousin john richard wuz blissfully happy and content, mudd-weakdew unspeakably and hopelessly wretched. both had follored their goles and wuz settin' on 'em, but, oh! how different they wuz--how different to themselves and them about 'em. inspiration and help flowed from cousin john richard's personality like the warm sunshine of a clear june day, or the perfume from a rare lily, brightening, sweetening and uplifting all about him, whilst from mudd-weakdew fell a dark shadder made up of gloom, discontent, envy, hatred. how different they wuz, how different they wuz! and robert strong's gole, how different his wuz from mudd-weakdew's. i methought of what miss meechim had said to me deplorin'ly, how different robert strong wuz. yes, indeed! both on 'em had had fur different goles and pursued 'em. the onselfish road robert strong trod wuz leadin' him to the house of happiness--mudd-weakdew's to the house of pain and despair. i dare presoom to say i eppisoded more'n a hour to myself about it and to josiah, 'tennyrate josiah got real huffy and acted, and sez in a pitiful axent: "samantha, i'm willin' to hear preachin' twice a week and can set under it like a man, but it comes kinder tough to have moralizin' and preachin' brung into the bosom of the family and liable to be drizzled out onto me week days, and any time, night or day." his axent wuz extremely hopeless and pitiful. he felt a good deal as i did in the matter, but it is a man's nater to be more impatient and not bear the yoke so well as wimmen do. wimmen are more used to galdin' things than men be; i don't blame josiah. i wuz glad enough to see in vienna the stately monument to maria theresa, empress of austria hungary. to see all about her and below her the noble forms of wisdom, strength, justice and religion. and men a-hoss back and sages and soldiers and to see her a-settin' so calm and benine on top of the hull caboodle, it gin me proud sensations and made me glad i wuz a woman, but not haughty. maria theresa wuz a likely woman; i wish she could have lived to have me encourage her by tellin' her what i thought on her. i would said to her: "marie," sez i, "you did well with what you had to do with, your pardner left a sight for you to tend to, as pardners will if they see their consort is willing to bear the brunt. you went through no end of trials and tribulations, wars and revolutions, but come off victorious. you helped the poor a sight, abolished torture, sot up schoolhouses, fenced in the roarin' papal bulls so they couldn't break out and rare round so much, you helped on the industries of your country, looked out for the best interests of your husband and son, as pardners and mothers will and looked and acted like a perfect lady through it all in war and peace." it would done marie sights of good to hearn my talk, but it wuzn't to be. but this high, noble monument wuz some consolation to her if she could look down and see it, as i spoze she can and duz. and partly on her ma's account i visited the tomb of her girl, marie christina. it wuz designed by canova and wuz the most beautiful tomb i ever see. nine beautiful figgers with heads bowed down in grief wuz bearin' garlands of flowers to strew above the beloved head, youth, middle age and old age all bearin' their different garlands and seemin' to feel real bad, even the mighty angel who guarded the open door of the tomb had his head bowed in sorrow. way up above wuz the face of the beautiful arch duchess carved in marble, with angels and cherubs surroundin' her. josiah said if he wuz able he would love to rare such a one up for tirzah ann. sez he, "she could enjoy it durin' her life and if she should pass away before us it would come handy." he thought the features of the arch duchess favored tirzah ann, but i couldn't see it. albert fountain is a noble-lookin' structure rared up by francis joseph in . we also visited the academy of fine arts, the conservatory of music, museums of arts and industries, the new parliament and university buildings. the university building has one hundred and sixty thousand volumes and engravings and drawing enough to fill up an ordinary building, the collection of manuscripts is called the richest in the world. the teachers in the university of vienna number two hundred and ten, good land! enough to make a good school in themselves if anybody knowed enough to teach 'em. in the chamber of treasures in the imperial palace we see the largest emerald known to the world and the florentine diamond, karats big, though josiah said when i told him on't that wuz nothin' to carrots he'd raised in his garden, but i sot him right. there wuz more than one hundred and forty thousand coins and all sorts of minerals and a great quantity of bronzes, gems and cameos. i hated to give in, but i had to. i see cameos there that went fur beyend mine. we visited gymnasiums, public schools, institutes, colleges and more noble and interestin' edifices than i could tell you jest the names on unless i took loads of time. the principal articles of manufacture in vienna are jewelry, clocks, kid gloves, musical instruments, shawls, silks and velvets. it is supplied with water that comes forty milds in an aqueduct and gits there as fresh and sparklin' as if it hadn't travelled a mild. i felt that i ort to go and see the emperor, francis joseph, while i wuz in vienna. i knowed that if my josiah had been took from my heart and presence as his elizabeth had been and he'd come to jonesville to see the sights and look round some as i wuz doin' and hadn't come to condole with me i should feel dretful hurt. just to think on't, the sweet, beautiful woman that he had loved ever sence she wuz a little girl in short dresses and would marry in spite of all opposition, and who had been his confidant and closest earthly friend for so many long years a settin' up there by his side on that hard peak with the kodaks of the world aimed at 'em, and rejoiced in his joy and sympathized in his sorrow, to have her struck down so sudden and to once by the hand of a assassin. why, if it had been my josiah i couldn't have bore up as fritz had; it seems to me as if i never could have held my head up at all after it. but fritz had bore up under his sorrow all these years and carryin' it along he bore also the load of his people's cares and perplexities and tried to do the best he could with what he had to do with, which is a golden rule to frame and hang up over our soul's mantletry piece and study from day to day and which is the very best a human creeter can do in jonesville or austria. i sot store by him. one thing specially i always liked in him wuz his humility and reverence, as showed by the foot-washing in the palace. i'd hearn about that, and wanted to see it myself, like a dog, but it wuz too late, for that takes place in april. but robert strong wuz here once in april, and witnessed that ceremony. it is a old custom, comin' from so fur back that nobody knows what monarch it wuz and whose feet they wuz, and whether they needed washin' or not. but i presoom they wuz middlin' clean; they be now anyway, and the emperor doesn't do it for bathin' purposes or to help corns, but it is a religious custom. robert explained it all out to me so plain that i almost seemed to see it myself. robert said that the day he wuz here there wuz twelve old men, some on 'em ninety years old, seated at a table set out handsome with good dishes, napkins, etc., and the table all covered with rose leaves, and under it brown linen cushions for the old feet to rest on. the old men had on black clothes, short breeches, black silk stockings, and wide white turned-down collars. they wuz seated by grand court officials, the oldest man seated at the head of the table. anon the emperor come in in full uniform, with a train of nobility and big court officers with him, all in gorgeous attire, and the emperor took his place at the head of the table as a waiter to wait on the oldest old man. and then follered twelve palace officials, each bearin' a black tray that had four dishes of good food on it, and they took their places opposite the old men who set on one side of the table, some as they do in pictures of the last supper or some as we have some times in cleanin' house and things tore up and we all set on one side of the table. then all bein' ready, the emperor took the food off the tray opposite the oldest man, and waited on him jest as polite as philury waits on me when we have company. the crown prince waited on the one next in age, and each of the old men wuz waited on by some grand duke or other member of the austrian nobility. after the trays wuz emptied, the palace guard, in full uniform, come in with twelve more trays, and so on till four courses wuz served, the last consistin' of a sweet dish, fruit, cheese, almonds, etc. after this, and it wuz done quite quick, for not a mouthful wuz eaten, a large, gold tray wuz brought in with a gold pitcher on it and a large napkin, and the emperor knelt and poured a little water on the old man's foot, and wiped it on the napkin. it wuzn't very dirty, i spoze; his folks had tended to that, and got off the worst of it. but he had had his foot washed by a emperor, and i spoze he felt his oats more or less, as the sayin' is in rural districts, though he orten't to, seein' it wuz a religious ceremony to inculcate humility, and the old man ort to felt it too, as well as the emperor. but howsumever, the hull twelve on 'em had their feet washed and wiped by nobility. and that bein' done, the emperor, crown prince, and all the arch dukes, etc., havin' riz up from their knees, the grand chamberlain poured some water on the emperor's hands, who dried 'em on a napkin, and all the rest of the nobility done the same. then a court officer come in bringin' twelve black bags of money containing each thirty silver florins. they had long black cords attached, and the emperor fastened the bags around the necks of each of the old men by putting the cords round their necks. then the emperor and nobility left the hall. all durin' this ceremony a priest and twenty assistants read and intoned beautiful extracts from the gospel, showin' how the lord washed the disciples' feet. then all the food and plates and foot cushions wuz packed into baskets and sent to the houses of these old men, and i wuz glad to hear that, for i thought how they must have felt to have such tasty food put before 'em and took away agin for good and all. when the empress wuz alive she did the same to twelve old wimmen--good creetur! wuzn't it discouragin' to wash the feet of the poorer classes every year of her life, and then be shot down by one on 'em? how fritz must have felt a-thinkin' on't! if he'd been revengeful, i felt that he might have gin their feet a real vicious rub--kinder dug into 'em real savage; but he didn't; he washed and wiped 'em honorable, from what i've hearn. i always thought that that wuz a noble thing for the emperor to do. i d'no as our presidents would be willin' to do it, and i d'no as they wouldn't. i don't believe the question has ever been put to 'em. i guess washington and lincoln would anyway, and i don't believe that they would have shrunk back if the feet wuz real dirty; they went through worse things than that. but to resoom: robert strong's description of this seen made me set more store by fritz joseph than i had sot. and i wanted dretfully to meet him and condole with him and congratulate him, but didn't know as i should have a chance. but to my great satisfaction we wuz all invited to the palace to a big informal reception. i wuz tickled enough. i spoze it wuz on robert strong's account that we wuz invited to the emperor's palace, though josiah thought it wuz on his account. sez he: "fritz is a educated man and reads about foreign affairs; of course, he has hearn of jonesville and knows that i am one of its leadin' men, and wield a powerful influence in political and religious circles, and wants to honor me and on my account and to please me, and for various diplomatic reasons he is willin' to receive my pardner." but it wuzn't so, no such thing; it wuz on robert's account; robert had been invited there for lunch when he wuz there before, for miss meechim had told me on't over and over. when the evening of the reception come, miss meechim wuz in high feather every way. she wore one in her hair that stood up higher than old hail the day's tail feathers, and then her sperits wuz all feathered out, too. dorothy looked sweet as a rose just blowed out. she had on a gown of pale-green satin and shiffon, which looked some the color of fresh, delicate leaves, and her sweet face riz up from it and bloomed out like a flower. it wuz a little low in the neck, which wuz white as snow, and so wuz her round arms. a necklace of big pearls wuz round her neck, not much whiter than the warm, soft flesh they rested on, and she carried a big bunch of white orchids. she looked good enough to frame in gold and hang up in anybody's best parlor, and robert strong felt just as i did i knew by his liniment. on such a occasion, i felt my best black silk none too good, and at dorothy's request i turned down the neck a little in front, mebby a half a finger or so, and wore a piece of lace she gin me over it that come down to my belt. it looked like a cob-web that had ketched in its transparent meshes some voylets and snowdrops. and at her request i did not wear the cameo pin, but a little bunch of posies she fixed for me, fine white posies with a few pale lavender ones. i spoze dorothy, though she didn't tell me so, for fear it would make me oneasy and nervious, but i spoze she wuz afraid that some bold thief might rob me of that valuable jewel; she knowed that cameo pin fell onto me from mother smith and fell onto her from her ma. this rim of memory sot it round and rendered it valuable aside from its intrinsic worth, which wuz great. why, i hearn that grandmother smith paid as high as seven dollars for it, gin five bushels of dried apples and the rest in money. tommy stayed to home with martha. the guests wuz ushered into a spacious and magnificent room. innumerable lights flashed from its lofty ceilings and music and flowers brightened the seen. the rich costooms of the ladies and the gorgeous uniforms of the men, representatives of the different countries, richly embroidered in gold and silver, added to the beauty of the panorama. jewels wuz sparklin' everywhere, and i thought to myself i d'no but dorothy wuz more fraid than she need be, i d'no; but i might have resked the cameo pin there. for it didn't seem as if anybody there, man or woman, stood in need of any more ornaments, and if they took it, i should always thought they done it out of pure meanness. for such a profusion of jewelled ornaments i never see, and such dresses, oh, my! i thought even before i met the royal party what would i give if almina hagadone could be sot down there with liberty to bring a lot of old newspapers, the jonesville "augurses" and "gimlets" and take patterns. oh, my! wuzn't they grand, though our good methodist sisters wouldn't dream of havin' their calico and woosted dresses with such long trains draggin' behind 'em or havin' 'em low-necked and short sleeves. i could hardly imagine how sister gowdey and sister henzy would look with their chocolate-colored calicos made without sleeves and dekolitay, as miss meechim called it; they would blush to entertain the thought, and so would their pardners. francis joseph, or as i called him in my mind, the good crisp name of fritz, i found wuz good lookin' and good actin'. of course, like myself and josiah, he's gittin' some along in years. and like us, too, he won't most probable ever be hung for his beauty. but what of that? like others lately mentioned, his liniment shows just what kind of a person he has been and is. honest, honorable, hard-workin', gittin' up at five o'clock in the mornin', doin' a good day's work before lots of folks rises up from their goose-feather pillers. fillin' up the day with duties performed to the best of his ability. good, solid-lookin' and good-actin' the most of the time, though i spoze that like every human bein', he has had spells of bein' contrary and actin', but on the whole a good man, and a well-wisher to his race. and now in this dretful epock of time, when everything seemed upside down, thrones tottlin' and foundations warpin', and the roar of battle comin' nigher and nigher on every side, i felt that it wuz a great thing for him that he had the chance to hear some words of encouragement and advice. yes, i knowed that if ever the powers wuz in a tight place they wuz now. i wuz the last one in the line, and so had a chance at him; i shouldn't have had if miss meechim and arvilly had been follerin' close to my heels. i had said in days gone by that if i ever got holt of one of them powers i would give 'em a piece of my mind that they could patch onto their daily experience, and tremble and wonder at it for the rest of their days. i had been riled up by these powers a number of times, real provoked and out of patience with 'em. but now when i stood in the presence of one of 'em i felt different from what i thought i should feel; i pitied 'em like a dog. and i showed it. i mistrust my liniment looked pale and excited, though not havin' a lookin' glass present i couldn't tell for certain, but i know my voice trembled with emotion, for i hearn it myself. i sez to him how proud and happy i wuz to see him lookin' so well and holdin' his age to such a remarkable degree, and after a few such preliminary politenesses had been tended to, i branched out and told him with my liniment lookin' good and earnest i know, and tears almost standin' in my eyes, i told him the feelin's i felt for the powers, how mad i'd been at 'em in the past, and how them feelin's had turned into pity, for i knowed just what a ticklish place they wuz in and how necessary it wuz for 'em to keep a cool head and a wise, religious heart, and then, sez i, "i d'no as that will save you. you powers have got so hard a job to tackle that it don't seem to me you'll ever git out of it with hull skins if you don't use all the caution a elephant duz in crossin' a bridge. go cautious and carefull and reach out and try every plank before you step on't." he felt it, i could see he did, he knowed how the ground wuz quakin' under him and the rest of the powerses. "and don't," sez i, "don't for mercy's sake! you powers git to squabblin' amongst yourselves, for if you do you might just as well give up first as last, for you are all lost as sure as fate. keep your temper above all things," sez i. "you've got age and experience as well as i have, and it takes such experienced wise heads to manage such a state of affairs, and i d'no even then as we can git along without an awful fuss, things are so muddled up. mebby you're the very one to go on and try to straighten out the snarls in the skein of the nation's trials and perplexities, and i'll do all i can to help you," sez i. he wuz dretful impressed by my eloquence; he acted for all the world just as mr. astofeller did. he looked at his watch just as if he wuz anxious to know just the time i said such remarkable things, and i continued on, "sister henzy," sez i, "thinks that the millenium is comin'." "sister henzy?" sez he inquirin'ly. "yes," sez i, "sister mehala henzy, sister in the m. e. meetin'-house at jonesville. she sez that this is the great universal war that is to usher in the thousand years of peace and the comin' of our lord. she reads skripter a sight and has explained it out to me and i must say it does look like it. and oh how i do want to be here to see it, but don't spoze josiah and i can live a thousand years, no matter how much patent medicine we take, specially as we both have the rumatiz bad, but oh how i would love to. "brother meesick thinks this is goin' to be a war of the yellow races agin the whites. and though it would come tough on josiah and me to be driv out of house and home and scalped and made slaves on, yet right whilst them yeller races wuz engaged in it if i could think at all--and of course i don't know how much the seat of thought is situated in the crown of the head and hair and whether the entire citadel would go with the scalp, but if i could think and keep my conscientiousness as i spoze i should, i should have to give in right then and there that it wuz only justice fur the white races to submit to the revenge of the darker complected, thinkin' what we'd done to them. "josiah bein' so bald they would probable have to take his head right off, not havin' anything to hang onto while they scalped him, and i should probably foller him soon, as i couldn't imagine a life josiahless. but whilst i lived, and even if i wuz sold into captivity, and see thomas j. and the rest of the children sold into distant countries, and i chained to widder henzy, drove off west to be slaves to hole in the day or big thunder, i should have to say amidst my heart breakin' groans and sithes, it is just, it is just, we white folks richly deserve it for our treatment to the darker races." the emperor felt my talk deeply, i knew by his looks; he looked completely wore out; it wuz from admiration i knowed. sez i: "it is a dretful thing to have all the beasts of the world git mixed up and a-fightin' and chankin' each other up, as they have seemed to, whilst the powers have sot and looked on. jest now it looks to me as if the russian bear is gittin' the worst on't and the dragon a-comin' out on top, and the eagle has done noble work a-shriekin' and fightin' and protectin' her young. "it seemed to me and josiah that the powers have took things pretty easy and loitered along when their ministers and missionaries wuz chased into a corner and the boxers ready to take their heads off. it makes a sight of difference in such things whose heads are in danger. if it wuz the powers' own heads, for instance, there would probable been more hustlin' round. "but things are in a dretful state in russia and japan and china. it is a great pity i hadn't knowed what wuz comin' when i wuz there; i could probable done lots of good advisin' the empress and tryin' to make her do as she ort to, though my pardner thinks the blame hain't all on china. he argys wrong, but is sot on it. he sez spozen he wuz slow with his spring's work and didn't keep his fences up, or hustle round so and mebby didn't pay ury so big wages as the loontowners did in their factory, and wuzn't what they called sound on the doctrines. you know they are seven-day baptisses over in loontown and shackville; but josiah sez if them two powers got together and tried to force loonton and shackville civilization and ways onto jonesville, which is a older place and glad to be kinder settled down and mind its own bizness; and if they should try to build roads through jonesville medders and berry lots and set up their tabernacles and manufacturys there and steal right and left and divide jonesville into pieces and divide the pieces amongst 'em, why, sez he, 'i would arm myself and ury and fight to the bitter hind end.' "sez josiah: 'why do we want our pleasant woods and fields turned into noisy bedlams by the whirrin' of wheels, creakin' of engines and the roar and smoke and dust of traffick? spozein' we should make more money and dress better and own more books; money hain't everything in life, nor hustlin' in bizness; peace and comfort and mindin' your own bizness is sunthin'.' "'and wheresoever them noisy manufactories go, there goes whiskey,' sez arvilly. a neighborin' woman who wuz by and jined in: 'what good duz it do to try to settle which is the right sunday if at the same time them proselyters brings pizen that crazes their converts so they can't tell sunday mornin' from friday midnight, bring the preachin' of love and peace and the practice of hatred and ruin, the creeds and catechism packed on with opium and whiskey.' "'yes,' sez josiah, 'let me catch the loontown and shackville powers tryin' to divide jonesville into pieces and grabbin' the pieces and dividin' 'em up amongst 'em and turnin' us out of house and hum, i guess them powers would find they had got hold of a boxer when they come to cut up my paster and divide it and the medder back of the house where grandfather allen's grandpa and great-grandma lays with a white railin' round 'em, kep' up by the allens two hundred years. i guess they'd think they had got holt of a boxer--yes indeed! and josiah allen breathed hard and looked warlike. "'but,' i sez, 'josiah, you hain't got it right; there is more to it.' "and he sez fiery red in the face and sithin' hard, 'there is generally more to everything.' and i sez, 'so there is, josiah.'" i see the emperor lookin' round anxiously and he seemed to be on the very pint of startin' away. i mistrusted he wanted to go and git more folks to hear my wonderful eloquence, but i couldn't wait and i sez, "time and josiah are passin' away and i mustn't detain you; you powers will have to do the best you can with what you've got to do with. wisdom is needed here, and goodness, piles and piles of goodness and patience and above all prayer to the god of love and justice for help. he is the only power that can bring light into the dark problem confrontin' the nations. he can settle the question and will, if you powers trust him and try to toiler his teachin's." "the only receipt i can give you is what i told you. seekin' earnestly for patience and wisdom from on high, payin' no attention to the blue light that rises from the low grounds lit by greed, ambition and revenge, follerin' from day to day the light that filters down from heaven through the winders of the mind and soul, and keepin' them winders as clean as possible so the light can shine through. brushin' away, as fur as your powers can, the black cob-webs from your own civilizations whilst you are tacklin' the scrubbin' brush to cleanse older and dirtier ones, and don't for mercy sake in the name of freedom take away freedom from any race or nation. i d'no what else you can do." agin he looked anxiously round as much as to say, oh why, why don't somebody else come to hear this remarkable talk? and sez i, "i will say in conclusion for your encouragement, fur off over the hills and dells of the world and jonesville there will be one follerin' you with earnest good wishes and prayers and will help you powers all she can and may god help you and the other powerses and farewell." he looked dretful relieved as he shook my hand and i passed on. i guess he had worried for fear it would be out of sight, out of mind with me, and i rejoined my pardner. the rest of our party had passed on into another gorgeous apartment, but my faithful pardner had waited for me. he wuz rejoiced to see me i knowed, though his words wuz: "what under the sun wuz you hangin' round and preachin' to a emperor for? i believe you would dast anything." "i hope i would," sez i, calmly, "upheld by duty's apron strings." i wouldn't have it knowed in jonesville for a dollar bill that right there in the emperor's palace josiah demeaned himself so, but he did say: "i don't want to hear any more about them infarnal strings." and a gorgeous official looked round at him in surprise and rebuke. well, we didn't stay a great while after that. we walked round a little longer through the magnificent rooms, and anon we met arvilly. she wuz lookin' through a carved archway at the distant form of the emperor and unfastenin' the puckerin' strings of her work-bag, but i laid holt of her arm and sez: "arvilly, for pity sake help me find robert and dorothy." she turned with me, and my soul soared up considerable to think i had already begun to help the powers and lighten their burdens. and pretty soon the rest of our party jined us, and we returned home to our tarven. chapter xxxiii miss meechim wanted to visit carlsbad, the great bohemian watering place. she said it wuz a genteel spot and very genteel folks went there to drink the water and take the mud baths. and so we took a trip there from vienna. it is only a twelve-hours' journey by rail. our road lay along the valley of the danube, and seemed to be situated in a sort of a valley or low ground, till we reached the frontiers of bohemia, but it wuz all interestin' to us, for novelty is as refreshin' to older ones as to children. cheerful, clean-lookin' little villages wuz scattered along the way, flourishin' orchards and long fields of grass and grain, and not a fence or hedge to break the peaceful beauty of the picture. anon we entered a mountainous country with blue lakes and forests of tall pine trees and knowed we had entered bohemia. we see gypsy tents anon or oftener, for what are gypsies but true bohemians, wanderers at will, hither and yon. josiah mentioned the idee of our leavin' the train for an hour or two and havin' our fortunes told by a real gypsy, but i told him _sotey vosey_ that my fortune come along about as fast as i wuz ready for it, and i didn't know as i wanted to pay these swarthy creeters for lyin' to me. and he didn't contend for it, for which i wuz thankful. all along the way we see shrines with the faces of our lord and mary and joseph lookin' out of 'em. and anon a little hamlet would appear, a meetin'-house with five or six dwellin' houses clustered round it like a teacher in the midst of half a dozen scholars. flowering shrubs and fruit trees almost hid the houses of the quiet little hamlets, and then we'd go by a village with forty or fifty houses, and as i told arvilly, in all these little places so remote from jonesville and its advantages, the tragedy of life wuz goin' on just as it did in bigger places. and she said she wondered if they drinked; sez she, "if they do there is tragedies enough goin' on." bohemia is a country of orchards. i should say there was fruit enough there so every man, woman and child there could have bushels and bushels of it to spare after they had eat their fill. even along the highways the bending trees wuz loaded with fruit. a good plan, too, and i told josiah i would love to introduce it into jonesville. sez i, "how good it would be to have the toil-worn wayfarers rest under the shady branches and refresh themselves with good fruit." and he said "he didn't want to toll any more tramps into jonesville than there wuz already." and i spoze they would mebby find it too handy to have all the good fruit they wanted hangin' down over their heads as they tramped along--i d'no but it would keep 'em from workin' and earnin' their fruit. anon the good car would whirl us from a peaceful country into mountain scenery, huge ledges of rock would take the places of the bending fruit trees, and then jest as we got used to that we would be whirled out agin, and see a peaceful-lookin' little hamlet and long, quiet fields of green. in the harvest fields we see a sight that made me sad and forebode, though it seemed to give josiah intense satisfaction. we see as many agin wimmen in the harvest field as we did men, and in carlsbad we see young girls carryin' brick and mortar to the workmen who wuz buildin' houses. i thought as i looked out on the harvest fields and see wimmen doin' all the hard work of raisin' grain and then havin' to cook it after it wuz made into flour and breakast food it didn't seem right to me, it seemed as if they wuz doin' more than their part. but i spozed the men wuz off to the wars fightin' and gittin' killed to satisfy some other man's ambition, or settlin' some other men's quarrels. josiah sez, smilin' happily, "wouldn't it look uneek to see philury mowin' in our oat and wheat fields, and you and sister bobbett rakin' after and loadin' grain and runnin' the thrashin' machine?" "yes," sez i, "when i foller a thrashin' machine, josiah allen, or load a hay rack it will look uneeker than will ever take place on this planet, i can tell you to once." but arvilly sez, "don't be too sure, josiah allen's wife; with three wars bein' precipitated on our country durin' one administration, and the conquered contented regions havin' to be surrounded by our soldiers and fit all the time to keep 'em from laughin' themselves to death, you don't know how soon all of our men will be drafted into the army and we wimmen have to do all the farm work." "yes," sez josiah, "that is so, and you would be a crackin' good hand to pitch on a load of hay or mow away, you are so tall." "and you," sez she with a defiant mean, "would be a good hand to put in front of the battle field; you're so short, the balls _might not_ hit you the first round." she put a powerful emphasis on the "might not," and josiah looked real agitated, and i sez: "such talk is onprofitable, and i should advise you, josiah, to use your man's influence to try to make peace for the country's good, instead of wars for the profit of trusts, ambition, etc., and you can escape the cannon's mouth, and arvilly keep on sellin' books instead of ploughin' and mowin'." robert strong and dorothy enjoyed carlsbad the best that ever wuz. i don't think they sot so much store by the water as they did the long mountain walks. everybody here becomes a mountain climber. the doctors here agree that this exercise is a great means of cure, and they make the climbing easy and delightful. there are over thirty miles of good roads over the mountains and around carlsbad, and as you climb upwards anon or even oftener you come to pretty little pavilions where you can rest and look off onto the delightful scenery, and every little while you'll come to a place where you can git good refreshments to refresh you. the sprudel, or bubbling well, bubbles over in a stream of almost boiling hot water five or six inches in diameter. it is so hot that you can't handle the mugs it is served in with your naked hand, you hold it by a napkin and have to take it a little sip at a time if you don't want to be scalded. josiah had disputed with me about the waters being so hot. he said it didn't look reasonable to him that bilin' hot water would flow out of the cold ground, and he knowed they had told stories about it. "why," sez he, "if it wuz hot when it started it would git cooled off goin' through the cold earth." but i sez: "they say so, josiah--them that have been there." "well," sez he, "you can hear anything. i don't believe a word on't." and so in pursuance of his plan and to keep up his dignity he wouldn't take a napkin with his mug of water, but took holt on't with his naked hand and took a big swaller right down scaldin' hot. he sot the mug down sudden and put his bandanna to his mouth, and i believe spit out the most on't. he looked as if he wuz sufferin' the most excruciating agony, and i sez: "open your mouth, josiah, and i will fan it." "fan your grandmother!" sez he. "i didn't like the taste on't, samantha; it most sickened me." but i sez: "josiah allen, do you want some liniment on your hand and your tongue? i know they pain you dretfully." sez he, smilin' a dretful wapeish smile: "it is sickish tastin' stuff." and he wouldn't give in any further and didn't, though i knew for days his mouth wuz tender, and he flinched when he took anything hot into it. as i would look dreamily into the bubblin' well i would methink how i do wish i knowed how and where you come to be so hot, and i'd think how much it could tell if it would bubble up and speak so's we could understand it. mebby it wuz het in a big reservoir of solid gold and run some of the way through sluice ways of shinin' silver and anon over beds of diamonds and rubies. how could i tell! but it kep' silent and has been mindin' its own bizness and runnin' stiddy for over six hundred years that we know on and can't tell how much longer. exceptin' in the great earthquake at lisbon about a hundred and fifty years ago, it stopped most still for a number of days, mebby through fright, but afer a few days it recovered itself and has kep' on flowin' stiddy ever since. it wuz named for charles iv., who they say discovered it, charle's bath or carlsbad. his statute stands in the market-place and looks quite well. carlsbad has a population of twenty or thirty thousand, and over fifty thousand people visit carlsbad every summer to drink of the waters. drinking and walking is what the doctors prescribe and i d'no but what the walking in the invigorating mountain air does as much good as the water. the doctor generally makes you drink a glass about seven in the morning, then take a little walk, then drink another glass, and another little walk and so on until about eight, when you can go to the swiss bakery and get the zwiebach or twice baked bread, which is handed you in a paper bag, and then you can go to some cafay on the sidewalk and get coffee or tea and boiled eggs and make out your breakfast. no butter is given you unless the doctor orders it. that madded josiah and he said they kep' it back because they wuz clost and wanted to save. he is a great case for butter. and then after resting for an hour, you go for a walk up the mountains, or if you are too weak to walk, you can get a cart and a donkey, the driver walking alongside; up the shady paths you will go, resting anon or oftener at some pleasant summer house or cafay. at one you have your dinner, you can get it anywhere along your way or go back to your tarven for it; josiah and i generally went back and got our dinner at the tarven and rested for a while. after dinner, folks generally go for another walk, but josiah and i and tommy used often to go to the sprudel corridor and listen to first-rate music or to a garden concert nigh by. it wuz a sight to set in the sprudel corridor and see the crowds of people go by, each one bearin' a little mug in their hands or strapped over their shoulders. all sorts of lookin' folks, handsome and humbly, tall and short, thick and thin, thousands and thousands of 'em a-goin' every morning for their drink and walk, drink and walk. there are six or eight little girls at each of these springs who hand the water to the guests and they have to work spry to keep 'em all supplied. it wuz a remarkable coincidence that royalty so soon after havin' the advantage of a interview and advice from josiah allen's wife should agin have the privilege of listenin' to her invaluable precepts. but not so remarkable when you come to study on it philosophically. for it seems to be a law of nater that if one thing happens, another similar thing follers on and happens too, such as breakin' dishes, onexpected company, meetin' royalty, etc., etc. i wuz settin' alone in the sprudel corridor one day, for my pardner had gone with tommy to see a little donkey that had took the child's fancy and we meant to let him have a ride up the mountain on it and the rest of our party had driv out to mentoni's spring, about two milds from carlsbad. i see a real sweet pretty girl coming along carrying her little mug just like the rest of the folks. she wuz attended by a good-lookin' lady, who seemed to be looking out for her, and i hearn a bystander say: "that's the queen of holland." when i wuz told that the queen of holland wuz approachin' i sez, "you don't say so! you don't say that that is willieminy?" "yes," sez the bystander standin' by. and i tell you i looked at her with all the eyes i had, and if i had had a dozen more i should have used them all, for i liked her looks first-rate, fair complected, blue eyes, light wavy hair, and a air of demure innocence and wisdom that wuz good to see. she wuz pretty and she wuz good, i could see that as plain as i could tell a buff cochin hen from a banty. and i wuz glad enough, when havin' discovered sunthin' she had left behind, her companion left her and went back to the tarven and she come and sot down right by my side to wait for her. and as my rule is, i immegiately lived up to my privileges and told her how highly tickled i wuz to have the chance to see her and tell her how much store i sot by her. sez i: "my dear, i have always wanted to see you and tell you how much i have liked almost every move you've made since you got to be a sovereign and before. your crown hain't seemed to be top heavy, drawin' your fore top and your common sense down with it as some crowns do. you've wore it sensible and you've carried your septer stiddy, and for a young girl like you to do them things has seemed a great thing to me. a good many young girls would be carried away if they wuz in a place like yours; i am most afraid tirzah ann would at your age." "tirzah ann?" sez she inquirin'ly. "yes, josiah allen's girl by his first wife," sez i. "i did my best bringin' her up, but if a kag is filled with rain water you can't tap it and have it run cream or maple molasses. she wuz nateraly kinder sentimental and vain and over dressy, and keeps up them traits to this day. and i d'no what she would have done if she'd tried to rule a kingdom at eighteen; i guess her subjects would have seen strange doin's and strange costooms, though i think tirzah means to be a christian. but you've done first-rate, you've seemed to study the best good of your subjects and have made a big effort to have peace in the world. i wuz dretul interested when you had that peace conference meet in your 'house in the woods.' i'd been more'n willin' to had it meet in our sugar house, but it wuzn't big enough, and it wuzn't so central; it wuz better to have it where it wuz. "i guess i sot more store by your doin's in that respect than by any other, for peace is what a sovereign and a subject must have to git along any ways comfortable. and at the present time what a comfort it would be if the nations of the world could git holt on it. but it almost seems as if peace had spread her wings and flowed away from this planet, such cuttin's up and actin's are on every side, wars and rumors of wars, armies and navies crashin' up aginst each other, nations risin' up aginst nation, brothers' hands lifted up aginst brothers and the hull world seemin' to be left to the mercy of the bloody fiend, war. "well, you and i can't help it, willieminy. i've done all i could in jonesville. i've talked a sight and sot josiah up all i could to vote for peace, and you've done all you could in holland, and so now we've got to set down and trust in the providence that watches over jonesville and holland." she acted as if she felt real pleased with my praise, as well she might, and i sez, "another thing i've liked in you, willieminy, you wuz so bound and determined to pick out your pardner for yourself and not have him selected for you. why, good land! a dress or a pair of shues or gloves hain't half so apt to fit and set well if you leave 'em for somebody else to pick out for you, and much more a pardner. i honored you for your idees in that direction, for you've probably found out, my dear," sez i, "that even if you take sights of pains and pick him out yourself, a pardner is sunthin' that requires lots of patience and long sufferin' to git along with, though real convenient to have round lots of times when tramps are about, or reachin' up overhead in the buttery, or at funerals, etc. it always looks nobler to have a man along with you than to mog along alone. and men are about on a average as fur as their goodness goes with their female pardners most of the time. "but he will be no he-angel, if you cross him just before meal time, or don't see that his clothes are mended up good. i hearn once of a young bride who thought her husband wuz perfect, and i spoze looked at his backbone sarahuptishushly from day to day a-worryin' for fear his wings would sprout out and he would soar away from her to go and be an angel. but one day she mended a hole in his pocket, and bein' on-used to mendin' she took a wrong turn, and sewed the pocket right up. "well! well! i don't spoze she ever worried about his angel qualities after that time. i spoze he cut up dretful and said words she never dremp of his knowin' by sight, and she wuz jest as surprised and horrified as she would have been to had a lamb or a cooin' dove bust out in profanity. but he wuz a likely man, and got over it quick, and wuz most too good to her for a spell afterwards, as pardners have been wont to do on such occasions ever since the creation of the world. "but, as i say, matrimony has difficulties enough when love heads the procession and wedded bliss plays the trombone in the orkestry." she looked real interested as if my words wuz awful congenial to her. and whilst watchin' her sweet face growin' brighter and sweeter, i thought of another thing that i thought mebby she had been worryin' about and that i could comfort her up in, just as i would want our tirzah ann comforted under like circumstances, and i got real eloquent talkin' about this before i got through. sez i: "of course, my dear, there wuz some talk about your pardner havin' his eye on your proppity, but i wouldn't let that worry me, for i've always said that if i wuz a rich, handsome young woman, i would just as soon be married for my money as my beauty. they're both outside of the real self, equally transitory, or in fact, the money if invested in govermunt bonds is more lasting. for the national system is fur more firm and steadfast than the physical. "fifty years hence i spoze the money will all be safe and gainin' interest, so if that is what a woman is married for she will keep her attraction and even increase it. but fifty years hence where will her beauty be, if she wuz married alone for that? where are its powerful attractions? all gone. if she had nothing but the beauty of snowy brow and brilliant eye and clustering locks and perfect features. "but beauty that looks from the soul through the face. ah! that is another thing! that still remains when the dusky hair is changed to white, when the glow is turned to shadows in the eyes, when the lithe form is bent. that is a bit of the eternal, and forever young like its creator. you have got that beauty, my dear, as well as proppity, so don't worry." i felt real eloquent, and i could see by her looks that i wuz impressin' her powerfully and givin' her sights of comfort in her tryin' place. but i knew that eppisodin', though interestin' and agreeable, devoured time, and i knew that i must hold my eloquent emotions back and let common sense take the reins and conclude my remarks, so i sez: "i hope from the bottom of my heart that your pardner is a good man, one that hain't too uppish, and is willin' to chore round the house a little if necessary, and set store by you in youth and age, and that you and he will live happy and reign long over a peaceful and happy land." i see her companion in the distance comin' slowly back as if not hardly dastin' to interrupt our conversation, and i sez, "good-by, my dear, and god bless you. give my respects to your pardner and queen emma, and if you ever come to jonesville i would love to have you make me a all day's visit, and i'll invite the children and kill a hen and make a fuss. "i don't spoze jonesville is so neat as amsterdam; i spoze you can set down and eat offen the sidewalk in holland most anywhere, but i am called a good housekeeper, and will do the best i can. and now i don't want you to put yourself out in the matter, but if you should come and could manage it handy, if your ma would bring me some of your tulip seeds i'd swop with her and give her some of the handsomest sunflowers she ever laid eyes on, and they make splendid food for hens to make 'em lay." she didn't give me any answer about this either way, and i thought mebby her ma might be short on it for bulbs, and i wouldn't say anything more about it. but she bid me good-by real pleasant and we shook hands and wuz jest partin' away from each other when i thought of another very important thing that i wanted to warn the dear young queen about, and i turned round and sez: "oh, i must warn you solemnly of one thing more before we part; i have worried a sight about it; thinkin' so much on you as i do, i have been dretful afraid that you would be overflowed. if there should be big rains and the ocean should rise half an inch i've felt i didn't know what would become of you. you had better keep wash-tubs and pails handy and don't be ketched out without rubber boots, and keep your eye on leakages in the ground as well as govermuntal and financial affairs. and now again i will say, my dear, god bless you and farewell." she shook hands agin quite warm, and with a sweet smile on a pretty young face she assured me that she would be careful, and she jined her companion and went on towards the spring. and i know she wuz dretful pleased with what i'd said to her for i hearn her fairly laugh out as she told the lady about it. whilst we wuz in carlsbad miss meechim took the mud baths. she said they wuz considered very genteel and i guess mebby they wuz, so many things are genteel that are kinder disagreeable. they wuz also said to be first-rate for the rumatiz and the nerves. but it seemed to me i had almost ruther have nerves than to be covered all over with that nasty black mud. they take about sixty pounds of clay and mix it with the hot spring water till it is just about as thick as i make the batter for buckwheat cakes in jonesville, and i make that jest about as thick as i do my injin bread. and you git into this bath and stay about half an hour. then of course before you're let loose in society you're gin a clean water bath to git the mud off. miss meechim thought they helped her a sight, and mebby they did, and she boasted a lot how genteel they wuz. but i told her i had never been in the habit of settin' store by mud and lookin' up to it, and didn't believe i should begin at this late day, but josiah's rumatiz wuz so bad i didn't know but he had better take one. but he said he had took one in jonesville some years ago that would last him durin' his nateral life. he did fall into a deep mud-puddle one night goin' to sister celestine gowdey's for a bask pattern for tirzah ann. and it bein' dark and the puddle a deep one he floundered round in it till he looked more like a drownded rat than a human bein'. he never could bear basks from that hour till this, and he has always dated his rumatiz from that time, but it hain't so; he had it before. but 'tennyrate he wouldn't take the mud baths at carlsbad, nor none of us did but miss meechim. howsumever there are lots of folks that set store by 'em. chapter xxxiv well, we went back to vienna, and from there set sail for berlin, homeward bound. josiah was in dretful good sperits, and said that no monument or obelisk we had seen on our tower could ever roust up his admiration like the jonesville m. e. steeple when he should first ketch sight on't loomin' up beautiful and glorious from the enrapturin' jonesville seenery. and i felt a good deal as he did, but knowed that his feelin's made him go too fur, for jonesville seenery hain't enrapturin', and the m. e. steeple hain't glorious in aspect. but truly love is the greatest sculptor and gilder in the world, and handles his brush in the most marvellous way. under his magic touch the humblest cottage walls glows brighter than any palace. we had turned our footsteps toward home sweet home, and a light from above gilt them sacred precincts, and my own heart sung as glad a tune as josiah's, though i tried to sing it as much as i could in the key of common sense. well, we found that berlin wuz a big, beautiful clean city. it is the capital of prussia and the german empire, which we all know is divided up into little kingdoms, some as the sylvester bobbett farm is divided up, but kinder lookin' up to sylvester as the head on't. the old part of the city hain't so remarkable attractive, but the new part is beautiful in its buildings and streets. and somehow the passersby look cleaner and better off than in most cities. we didn't see a blind beggar man led by a dog or a ragged female beggin' for alms whilst we wuz there, which is more than our cities at home can boast of. but in spite of all this, i spoze there is a good deal of cuttin' up and behavin' there. and i don't spoze that the name of the river that runs through it has anything to do with that, though josiah thought it did. he said: "you couldn't expect many morals or much stiddy behavior round a river spree." but i don't spoze the name made a mite of difference. the water seemed to run along as smooth and placid as dove creek, that bathes the streets of loontown at home. indeed, the waters of the spree runs along real slow and quiet. and i spoze the inhabitants there are about on a equality with the dwellers in other cities in the old and new world. human nater is a good deal the same wherever you find it. and i've always said that if i wanted to write a heart-searchin', heart-meltin' tragedy, i had just as soon turn away from the big cities and go into some lonesome hamlet of new england, into some big faded farmhouse standin' by a dark weed-bordered sluggish creek, shaded by tall pollard willers. and there, behind the scraggly lilocks and cinnamon roses, and closed blinds of solid wood, with a little heart-shaped hole in the centre that casts strange shadders on the clean painted floor within, there i would find my tragedy material. mebby in some tall, scrawny woman's form, clad in brown calico, with scanty gray hair drawed tightly back from a pale face and imprisoned in a little hard knob at the back. when that hair wuz brown, and the mornin' sun wuz ketched in its glistenin', wavin' tendrils, and the sunken cheeks wuz round and pink as one of the cinnamon roses, and the faded ambrotype of the young soldier in her red wooden chest upstairs wuz materialized in a handsome young man, who walked with her under the old willows when the slow-moving brook run swift with fancy's flight and her heart beat happily, and life wuz new and radiant with love and joy---- before the changes come that swept them apart and left only a hollow, empty chamber in each heart, echoin' with footsteps that are walkin' heavily fur apart. then, if i could write the full history of that life, its joys and its sorrows, its aspirations, its baffled hopes, its compensations that didn't compensate, the bareness of the life, the dagger-sharp trials with what is called small things, the wild heart struggles veiled by the new england coldness of expression, some as her sharp crags and stuns are covered with the long reign of ice and snow. the heartsick loneliness of oncongenial surroundin's, the gradual fading away of hope and fears into the dead monotonous calm of hopelessness and despair. there is a tragedy ready for the pen that would stand out as much more striking and sharp-edged as the stun on a ontravelled highway is rougher than one worn down to smoothness by the feet of the multitude, a tragedy that would move the world could i tell it as it really is. but good land! what a hand to eppisode i be when i git to goin'. i must stop this very minute, or i'll have the tragedy alfred tennyson speaks on "dyin' a listener," on my hands. unter der linden is as beautiful and imposing an avenue as i see on my tower, with tall, handsome houses risin' up on each side on't. and there are beautiful parks and pleasure ground and places of recreation of all kinds. the academy of music is famous for its fine concerts, the city seems the very home of melody, and beautiful statutes are seen on every side. the equestrian statute of frederic the great is a grand one, and josiah got all rousted up lookin' at it, and talked considerable to me about what a imposin' figger he himself would make if he could be sculped settin' on the mair. he said it would be a lovely sight a loomin' up in front of the m. e. meetin'-house in jonesville. but i got his mind off from it quick as i could. one day when we wuz out drivin' through the handsome streets we went to see the palace of bismark. it wuz a large, stately mansion, opposite a pretty little park. but though this seemed the very abode of luxury, i wuz told that bismark loved the country fur better, and as josiah and i delighted in the fields of jonesville, so he loved sweet nature, and follered her all he could into her hants in the country. josiah sot store by bismark, and honors his memory, and he seemed real tickled when i sez to him: "bismark always reminded me of you, josiah, from what i've read of him." josiah was very tickled, and he sez with a proud happy look, "yes, i spoze i am a good deal like him, he wuz as brave as a lion, had good sound horse sense and----" but i sez calmly, "i dare presoom to say, josiah, that that is so. but i wuz alludin' to his appetite, i have hearn that he had a splendid and immense appetite." josiah acted huffy, and i drawed his attention off onto the corners of base relief and the white statters ornamentin' the ruff. to our great sorrow, we found that emperor william wuzn't to home. i spoze it will be a great disappointment to him when he hears on't that josiah and i had really been there right to his home and he shouldn't be there. i well know how bad i should feel if potentates come to jonesville and i happened to be off on a tower. and then i honored emperor william for his kind heart and kind actions and his good sense, and felt bad enough to think i wuzn't goin' to see him. but owin' to robert strong's gittin' a letter from somebody to somebody, we went through the palace just as i would want william to go through our house in jonesville and the carriage-house and barn, if we happened to be away a visitin' when he come our way. and oh, what a sight that palace wuz on the inside when we come to go through it, and the outside too looked well, very strong and massive and handsum and big, enormous big. why, it contains six hundred rooms. and miss cornelius bobbett thought she had reached the very hite of grandeur when she moved into their new house that had six big rooms beside the bedrooms. and it did go fur ahead of the average jonesville housen. but when i stood in william's white saloon and our party wuz givin' utterance to different ejaculations of surprise and admiration i only sez instinctively: "oh, if sister cornelius bobbett only could see this room! what would she say? how her pride would be lowered down." for it did seem to me the most beautiful room i ever beheld. it was more than a hundred feet long, and about half that in width, and the crystal glitter overhead reflected in the shinin' floor below wuz ahead of anything i had ever seen, as brilliant as a hull forest of ice-sickles mingled in with statutes and columns and angels and everything else beautiful. here in this room sessions of parliament are opened. and i thought the laws ort to be grand and noble indeed to make 'em worthy of the place they was made in. but, immense as this room wuz, the picture gallery is most as big agin and full of beauty and inspiration from wall to wall and from floor to ceilin'. the palace chapel is kinder round in shape, and has all sorts of soft and rich-colored marbles in the floor and wall. the altar wuz made of egyptian marble, a kind of buff color, and the pulpit wuz made of carrera marble. i spoze powerful sermons have been preached from that pulpit. in berlin the most beautiful pictures are to be seen on every side on palace walls and in picture galleries, dorothy and robert just doted on 'em and so did i. but josiah always complained of his corns whilst walkin' through 'em. a picture gallery just started them corns to achin' the worst kind from his tell. [illustration: samantha points out the beauties of the white saloon.--page .] the bourse is sunthin' like our stock exchange, but big enough to accommodate thousands of money-seekers. i spoze they have lively times here anon or oftener--the river spree runs right in front on't (though i don't think that makes a mite of difference). more than fifty bridges cross this river and it divides out into canals and little streams, all of which comes together agin and flows away into the sea. the alson bridge is one of the most beautiful bridges i ever sot my eyes on, and not fur off is the alson platz, a very charming public garden. shady paths, trees, flowers, sculpture, all make this garden very attractive. not fur off is the konigs platz, one of the most imposing parts of the city. in the centre of this square stands the grand monument to victory, it is high and lofty as a monument to victory ort to be, solid and massive at the base (for in order to be successful you have got to have a good underpinnin' of principle and gumption) and crowned with a noble-lookin' figger, standin' amidst a flock of eagles. the royal theatre is a handsome building and looks some in front like our own capitol in washington, d. c. it stands between two meetin'-houses, as if it laid out to set back and enjoy its neighborhood and be real respectable. in front of it stands a fine monument to the german poet, schiller. i sot store by him. thomas j. used to read his books to his pa and me a good deal when he wuz tendin' the cademy to jonesville, his dramas and his poems, so josiah and i felt quite well acquainted with him, and when we see his name here amidst foreign seens it give us quite agreeable emotions, some as if we wuz a travellin' in africa and should see a obelisk riz up with deacon henzy's name on it. also i wuz interested in looking at the beautiful equestrian statute of frederic william the illustrious elector, who did so much to make his country great. it stands on a bridge, as if dominating sea and land, as he did a good deal whilst he wuz alive. he looks calm and powerful, and has a look on his face as if he could do most anything he sot out to do. and the four slaves grouped round the base of the statute seem to look up to him as if they trusted him implicitly. his clothes wuzn't exactly what i would want josiah sculped in if he wuz to be rared up in marble, and it seems as if so many skirts and such a long cloak floatin' out must be in a man's way if he wuz in a hurry. but where is there anything perfect here below? it wuz remarkably handsome, take it as a hull. dorothy and robert said they wanted to see the statute of gerty. and josiah whispered to me and sez, "gerty who? i didn't know as they knew any gertrude that wuz buried here." and i whispered back, "they mean goethe, josiah. you know thomas j. has read us quite a lot of his writings." sez i, "don't you remember about little mignon, who wuz so home-sick for her own land, and would keep askin': 'knowest thou the land where citron apples bloom, and oranges like gold amidst the leafy gloom?' "you remember it, josiah. i've seen you shed tears when he wuz readin' about her." and josiah whispered back in a loud shrill whisper that i know they hearn: "if they wanted to see go-ethe, why didn't they say go-ethe?" (he always would pronounce his name to rhyme with sheath.) i felt mortified, nothin' seems worse when you're tryin' to quell a pardner down than to have him whisper back so loud. why, i have had josiah right to my own table when i've had company and he wuz makin' onlucky remarks, i've known him to ask me right out what i wuz steppin' on his toe for, and i wuz worse off than as if i hadn't tried to curb him in. but then he has a host of good qualities, and pardners are dretful handy lots of times. but life is a kind of a warfare to the best and happiest on us. well we all went to see the statute to goethe; it stands in a pleasant spot in the thiergarten surrounded by shrubs and trees. the face of the great poet is full of the sadness and glory of them that see visions and dream dreams. grouped about him are the sculptured forms of tragedy, lyrical poetry, and research. it wuz a impressive monument and rousted up more emotions in me than any that i see in berlin. well, we didn't stay long in prussia, for the cords that wuz drawin' us home tightened from day to day, the children and philury drawin' them cords closter ever and anon with long and loving letters, and we hastened on to hamburg. it wuz a lovely day when we sot out on our journey and we wuz all feelin' well, specially josiah and i, for every revolution of the wheels brought us nigher to our beloved jonesville and every toot of the engine seemed to shout afresh the joyful tidin's to us that we had sot our faces towards the bright hearth stun of home. we had no eventful experiences on the journey to relate, unless it wuz a interview we had with a young man, a freshman i believe he wuz from some college, travellin' with his tutor, and he seemed real fresh, he seemed to have plenty of money but a scarcity of brains, or mebby he had enough brains, but they seemed to be in a sort of a soft state, and i guess they'll harden up some when he gits older if he has good luck with them. i wuz most a good mind to advise him to set in the sun bareheaded all he could, thinkin' mebby it might harden 'em some, but didn't know how it would be took. he thought he knew a sight, but the shadder he really cast on worldly affairs wuz exceedingly small, he could step over it the hull time, but he felt that it reached the horizon. robert talked quite a good deal with him, to pass away the time i spoze, but there wuz a queer smile in his eyes and kinder patient and long sufferin' as if to say: "you'll know more in the future than you do now and i'll bear with you." the young man thought he wuz patronizin' robert, i knew from his liniment. he wuz a infidel, and seemed to think it made him very smart. you know some folks do think it is real genteel to doubt and a mark of a deep thinker. i hearn him go on for quite a spell, for robert wouldn't argy with him, thinkin' i spoze it might strain his arm to hit at vacancy. but at last i seemed to have to speak up to miss meechim and say: "how strange it is that some folks think the less they believe the bigger it makes 'em, but good land! it don't take much intellect to believe in nothin', it don't strain the mind any if it is ever so weak." i guess he hearn me, for he kinder changed his talk and went to patronizin' the seenery. well, it wuz beautiful a good deal of the way, though at the last of our journey it broke out rainy all of a sudden right whilst josiah wuz all engaged in admirin' a particular view, and it grew cold and disagreeable. and he bein' tired out, worried a sight about the rain and the suddenness on't and how it stopped his sight-seein' and brung on his rumatiz, and he complained of his corns and his tight boots, and said that i had ort to seen that he wuz dressed thicker, and fretted and acted. and i sez: "you've got to take things as they come, josiah. i couldn't send anybody out this mornin' to bring in a pail of weather to see if it wuz goin' to rain. you've got to take it as it comes, and when it comes, and make the best on't." but he still acted restless and oneasy, and most cried, he felt so bad. and i went on and dilated on the merits of calmness and serenity and how beautiful traits they wuz and how much to be desired. and he snapped me up enough to take my head off, and said that he "couldn't always be calm and wuzn't goin' to try to be." "no," sez i reasonable, "you've got to be megum in that, or in eatin' bread and milk; of course, you could kill yourself on that, though it seems innocent and harmless; you can carry everything too fur." and seein' that his liniment still bore the marks of restless oneasiness and onhappiness, i eppisoded a little on his side of the question, for what will not a woman do to ease a pardner's mind and comfort him? "yes, josiah, cousin joel smith's life used to be so serene and so deadly calm on all occasions that she used to mad uncle joel, who wuz of a lively and active temperament, like the most of the smiths. "i asked joel once on a visit there, when she had been so collected together and monotonous in aspect, and talked with such oneven and sweetness of tone that i got dead tired on't myself, and felt that i had been lookin' on a sunbaked prairie for months, and would have been glad enough to had her got up a change of liniment some way, and a change of axent higher or lower, i sez to cousin joel. "do you spoze serintha jane would git excited and look any different and talk any faster or louder if the house should get afire?" and he said no, the house did git afire once, when he wuz away. and she discovered it in the morning whilst she wuz makin' some scollops in her hair (she always had her hair scolloped just as even as ever a baby's petticoat wuz), keepin' that too calm and fixed through bangs and braids. she had scolloped it on one side and wur just beginnin' it on the other when she see the fire, and she went gently to the door, opened it in a quiet ladylike way, and asked a neighbor goin' by in her low even axent, if he would kindly stop a minute. and the neighbor stopped and she said sweetly: "could i trouble you to do a little errand for me if you are going down town, or would it incommode you?" he said he would do it. well, she said she didn't want him incommoded, "but," sez she, "if it is not too much trouble will you please tell my husband that i would like to have him come home as soon as he can make it convenient to do so, for the house is afire." and then she smiled sweetly and made a low bow, and went back into the house lookin' real serene, and went to scollopin' the other side of her fore-top. the neighbor started off wildly on the run hollerin' "fire!" and "help!" for he see the flames bustin' out of one of the chamber winders. he got the fire engine and the neighbors collected, and got most of the furniture out below, and they couldn't hardly git her to make a move, for she hadn't got the last scallop made, but finally somebody grabbed her, and kinder hauled her out, she a tryin' to smile, they say, and look calm, as she was borne out. i told joel, before i thought, that "she ort to been singed, and that it would have done her good, mebby it would rousted her up a little." and i guess he felt so too, though he didn't say so. josiah looked real interested, and i sez, fur i didn't dast to have the encouragement go too fur that way: "calmness and serenity are beautiful, josiah, and almost always desirable, though when a house gits afire you ort to let up on 'em a little." josiah's liniment looked quite a little clearer, but some shadders still remained, and i went on tenderly and pictured out to him the first meal i would cook for him when we got home. and then his liniment grew peaceful and happy, and he sez gratefully: "you're so calmin' to the nerves, samantha, when you set out to be, you're a perfect iodine." i d'no really what he did mean, i guess it wuz anodyne, i keep a bottle to home for nerves. but 'tennyrate in a few minutes he wuz talkin' quite glib about home and the children and i felt richly repaid for all my trouble. and with such little agreeable talk and eppisodin' did i try to diversify the weariness of travel. josiah is a great case for hamburg steaks, and he confided to me the hope that we would git some here that would go even beyond any that i had ever cooked and that would ensure him a future of this delicious food. but we didn't see a sign on 'em in the city. he wuz bitterly disappinted. hamburg is a free state, small, but i spoze feelin' quite big and independent. it is ruled by a senate of eighteen members, and a house of burgesses of one hundred and ninety-two members, and they make their own laws and keep 'em, i spoze, the most on 'em, and get along quite well and prosperous. there is a beautiful little lake in the heart of the city on which small gaily painted boats dart to and fro carrying passengers like omnibuses in city streets. beautiful bridges cross the alster, a tributary of the danube, and tall handsome houses line the streets. they are great cases for flowers there in hamburg. you meet flower shops and flower sellers on every side. but they are not the beautiful flower girls we read of in stories. they are mostly old wimmen, too old for hard work. they wear short skirts, comin' just below their knees, black bodices, long black stockings with gay colored garters, wooden shoes, broad-brimmed hats, saucer shaped, trimmed with stiff black cambric bows. we wuz only there for one day, but long enough to drive through the principal streets and see some of the principal sights and git rested some, and then we sailed away for home sweet home, via london, england. we didn't stay very long in london, but long enough so we could look about us some. robert strong had considerable bizness to attend to there, which, of course, devoured his time, and dorothy had a number of young girl friends who lived there, and she wanted to go and see them, and she entertained 'em at our tarven: sweet, fresh-complected young girls; they wuz almost as pretty as dorothy herself, but not quite. arvilly had a cousin on her own side that she wanted to visit, and, of course, she wanted to canvass more or less, so that left josiah and i free a good deal of the time to go and come as we liked. of course dear little tommy wanted to see everything and go everywhere. miss meechim and dorothy took tommy with them several times, and so did robert strong, and, of course, some days when we wuz all at liberty we would all go out together sightseeing. josiah said most the first thing that he wanted to see the tower of london, and tommy wanted to see the crystal palace, takin' a fancy to the name i spoze, and i told 'em we would go to these places the first chance we had. but deep in my heart wuz one purpose. i had laid on a certain plan day and night, kep' it in my mind and lotted on it. but of this more anon. this wuz my major plan. amongst my minor ones wuz my desire to see westminster abbey agin. i had been there once on a former tower, but i wanted to stand agin by the tombs of them i so deeply honored; and the rest of the party feelin' as i did, we all set out there most the first thing. i also sot store by westminster abbey on account of its being the place where victoria, honored queen and woman, wuz crowned, as well as all of england's monarchs. it is a magnificent building, no other mausoleum in the world can compare with it; it is almost worthy of being the resting-place of the great souls that sleep there. dorothy's sweet face and robert's noble liniment took on reverent looks as we stood by the tomb of saint and sage, hero and poet. we went from there to see the houses of parliament, immense buildings full of interest and associations. we also went to see st. paul's cathedral, which towers up in majesty, dwarfin' the other buildin's near it. it is a marvellous structure in size and beauty, only two bigger buildings in the world, st. peter's at rome, and the milan cathedral. what a head sir christopher wren must have had, and what a monument to his genius this gigantic pile is. no wonder he wanted this epitaph put on his tomb: "if you want to see his monument, look about you." many other noted men are buried here, bishop heber, john howard, sir joshua reynolds, wellington, nelson and sir john moore, who wuz "buried darkly at dead of night," as so many bashful schoolboys know to their sorrow, as they rehearse it in a husky voice to the assembled neighbors the last day of school. oh, how much they wish as they try to moisten their dry tongue and arrange their too visible and various hands, that the night wuz still darker, so dark that nothin' wuz ever hearn on't. feelin' the admiration i did for his livin' and lovin' pardner, i wuz glad to see the albert monument. it wuz evenin' when we see it, and the garden where it stands wuz illuminated. the great elms glowed under a multitude of red lights. the music-stands glowed with stars of the same color, and the fountains riz up in great sprays of color and radiance. it wuz a beautiful seen, but none too grand for the great good man whose name the tall shaft bears. albert hall, which stands in the same grounds, wuz also brilliantly illuminated; its long glass corridors shone as if wrought out of crystal and ruby. one day we rode from blackfriars' bridge past the mansion house, where the lord mayor holds his receptions. and what interested me fur more, we went past the place where the foreign bible society prints more than three million bibles a year in two hundred different languages and dialects, carrying the knowledge and love of our lord unto the ends of the earth. chapter xxxv buckingham palace wuz a sight to see, beautiful and grand, and not fur off is st. james's park, one of the most attractive in the city though it wuz once only a marshy field. as i looked on its charming and diversified beauty i thought how little there is in heredity compared to gumption and draining. josiah, as i said, wanted to see the tower of london. it is the most celebrated fortress in england. it is awful old, and good land! if i wuz shet up there i shouldn't never expect to break out. some of the walls are fifteen feet thick. the white tower, they say, wuz begun by william the conqueror, a man that i told the guide politely, "wuz quite widely known, and i had hearn a sight of him though i had never had the pleasure of his acquaintance." it wuz completed in one thousand ninety-eight. josiah and i wandered round there for hours, and should most probable got lost and mebby been gropin' round there to-day if it hadn't been for the guide. i wuz dretful interested in london bridge. the present structure cost seven million, so they say, and i wouldn't have built it for a cent less. i thought as i stood there of what had took place on that spot since sir william wallace's day and how his benign head (most every bump on it good ones) wuz put up there a mark for the insultin' jeers of the populace, and it made me feel bad and sorry for helen, his last wife, she that wuz helen mar. but sir thomas more's head wuz nailed up in the same place, and the bishop of rochester's and lots of others. it wuzn't right. and then i thought of the gay seens that had took place there, the tournaments and triumphal marches and grand processions and sad ones, and the great multitude who have passed over it, prince and beggar, velvet and rags, a countless throng constantly passing, constantly changing, no more to be counted than the drops of water in the silent stream below, all the time, all the time sweepin' on to the sea. i had sights of emotions. and all the while i wuz in london, in the gay streets and quiet ones, in palace or park, the shade of dickens walked by my side or a little in advance, seemin' to pint out to me the places where he had walked when he see visions and dreamed dreams. and i almost expected to meet little nell leading her grandpa, or david copperfield, or peggoty searching for em'ly, or some of our mutual friends. and so with thackeray. as i looked up at the gloomy houses on some quiet street i almost expected to see the funeral hatchment of old sir pitt crawley's wife and becky sharp's little pale face peering out, or sweet ethel newcomb and her cousin clive, and the dear old general and henry esmond, and etc., etc. and so with alfred tennyson. in some beautiful place of drooping foliage and placid water i almost felt that i should see the mystic barge drawin' nigh and i too should float off into some lotus land. and so with all the other beloved poets and authors who seem nigher to us than our next door neighbors in the flesh. dorothy havin' never been there, felt that she must see shakespeare's home, which is a journey of only three hours by rail, so we made a visit there one day, passing through some of england's most beautiful seenery on our way, grand old parks with stately houses rising up in their midst, gray stun churches in charming little villages, thatched-roof cottages, picturesque water-mills; it wuz all a lovely picture of rural england. it being a little too long a journey for one day, we stayed all night at shakespeare's inn, where the great poet went daily for his glass of stimulant--so they say. but i am glad i don't believe everything that i hear. arvilly mourned to think that she couldn't have sold him america's twin crimes: "intemperance and greed"; but i kinder changed the subject. as much store as i set by arvilly's cast-iron principles, somehow i couldn't bear the thought of having shakespeare canvassed. all the rooms are named after shakespeare's plays, painted over the doors in black letters. we slept in "all's well that ends well"--a good name--and we slept peaceful, thinkin' likely that it would turn out so. miss meechim had the "merry wives of windsor." she wanted to change with arvilly, who had "love's labor's lost," but arvilly wouldn't budge. miss meechim told me in confidence that if shakespeare could have had the benefit of her advice he would probable have called it "the unfortunate wives of windsor." "and then," sez she, "i could have occupied it with more pleasure." but i didn't much think that he would have changed his plans or poetry if she had been on the spot. the next morning early we set out for shakespeare's cottage, described so often, saw the room in which the great poet was born, and wuz told that nothing had been changed there since he lay in his cradle, which we could believe as we looked about us on the low walls, the diamond panes of the windows and the quaint old furniture. the cottage is now used for shakespeare's relics, some of which looked as if they might be real, and some as if they wuz made day before yesterday. we visited the church where he wuz baptized and saw on one of the pews the metal plate on which is engraved the name of the poet's father. and, thinkin' that a visit to shakespeare's home wouldn't be complete without seeing the place where his heart journeyed whilst his life wuz young and full of hope and joy, we drove out to shottery, to the little farmhouse where his sweetheart, ann hathaway, lived. it is a quaint little cottage, and after going through it we drank a glass of water drawn up by a well sweep from the very same old well from which shakespeare drank so many times. as i stood there i saw in fancy the rosy, dimpled ann handing the crystal water to the boy, will, who mebby whispered to her as he took the glass sweet words, all rhyming with youth and joy and love. and the same blue sky bent above us; birds wheeled and sung over our heads, descendants, mebby, of the birds that sung to them that day. i had sights of emotions--sights of 'em--and so i did in the cottage as i sot on the old, old settle in the corner of the fireplace, whose age nobdy could dispute, as its stiff old joints are strengthened with bands of iron, where young will shakespeare and his sweetheart often sat, and where he might have read to her the new poem in honor of her charms: "to melt the sad, make blithe the gay, and nature charm ann hath a way. she hath a will, she hath a way-- to breathe delight, ann hathaway." he or she didn't dream of his future greatness, and i dare say that old pa hathaway, who mebby slept nigh by, might have complained to her ma, "wonderin' what that fool meant by talkin' in poetry at that time of night." and, mebby, if he soared too high and loud in verse, old pa hathaway might have called out: "ann! cover up the fire and go to bed! billy wants to go home!" i don't say this wuz so, but mebby. so holden are our eyes and so difficult it is for the human vision to discern between an eagle and a commoner bird, when the wings are featherin' out, before they are full plumed for a flight amongst the stars. well, we went back to london, tired, but riz up in our minds, and renewed our sightseeing there. miss meechim and dorothy bought lots of things that they said they could git cheaper in england, and arvilly wuz in great sperits; she sold three books, sold herself out and went home with an empty box but a full purse. robert wuz busy up to the last minute, but managed to spend time to take tommy to see some famous waxworks he had promised. about the middle of the forenoon robert strong proposed that we should all go and take a last drive in the park, and we set off, all but arvilly. she thought of some one in another part of the city that she wanted to canvass, and she started off alone in a handsome. miss meechim and dorothy wuz feelin' well. tommy, who wuz in fine sperits, wuz perched as usual on robert strong's knee. the sheltered drives and smooth windin' roads wuz gay with passers-by, and the seen wuz beautiful, but i wuz sad and deprested about one thing. king edward is a real good natered man, and a good pervider, and seems to set store by america. and queen alexandra is a sweet, good woman. but still in these last hours i kep' thinkin' of edwardses' ma, who was rainin' here durin' my last visit. i wuz kep' from visitin' her at that time by p. martyn smythe and onfortunate domestic circumstances. and i have always worried for fear she hearn i wuz in london that time and never went nigh her; she not knowin' what hendered me. i writ her a letter to make her mind easy, but must know she never got it, for she never writ a word in reply. i posted the letter i spoke on with my own hands. i directed it widder albert, london, england. it runs as follers: "dear and revered queen and widder: "i tried my best to git to see you whilst in london, but josiah's clothes wuzn't fit; he had frayed 'em out on a tower, and his shirts wuz yeller as saffern, half washed by underlins. i wouldn't demean him in your sight by bringin' him with me and he wuz worrisome and i couldn't leave him. you've been married and you know how it is. "so i have to return home sad-hearted without settin' my eyes on the face of a woman i honor and set store by, a good wife, a good mother, a good ruler. the world hangs your example up and is workin' up to the pattern and will in future generations. no doubt there is a few stitches that might be sot evener in the sampler, but the hull thing is a honor to our humanity and the world at large. i bow to your memory as i would to you in deep honor and esteem. and if we do not meet here below may we meet in them heavenly fields you and your albert, josiah and i, young and happy, all earthly distinctions washed off in the swellin's of jordan. "and so god bless you clear down to the river banks whose waves are a swashin' up so clost to our feet, and adoo. "josiah allen's wife." i never hearn a word from her, and i am afraid she died thinkin' i had slighted her. the next morning bright and early we went aboard the ship that wuz to take us home. it wuz a fair day; the fog dispersed and the sun shone out with promise and the waves talked to me of home, sweet home. it wuz a cold lowerin' day when the good ship bore us into new york harbor. the gray clouds hung low some as if they wuz a sombry canopy ready to cover up sunthin', a crime or a grief, or a tomb, or mebby all on 'em, and a few cold drops fell down from the sky ever and anon, some like tears, only chill and icy as death. these thoughts come into my mind onbid as i looked on the heavy pall of dark clouds that hung low over our heads some like the dark drapery hangin' over a bier. but anon and bime bye these dark meditations died away, for what wuz cloud or cold, or white icy shores? it wuz home that waited for us; jonesville and my dear ones dwelt on that shore approachin' us so fast. bitter, icy winds would make the warm glowin' hearth fire of home seem brighter. love would make its own sunshine. happiness would warm the chill of the cold november day. thomas j. and maggie stood on the pier, both well and strong; tommy sprung into their arms. they looked onto his round rosy face through tears of gratitude and thankfulness and embraced me with the same. and wuzn't thomas j. happy? yes, indeed he wuz, when he held his boy in his arms and had holt of his ma's hands, and his pa's too. and maggie, too, how warmly she embraced us with tears and smiles chasing each other over her pretty face. tirzah ann and whitfield wuz in the city, but didn't come to the minute, bein' belated, as we learnt afterwards, by tirzah ann a waverin' in a big department store between a pink and a blue shiffon front for a new dress. but they appeared in a few minutes, tirzah ann with her arms full of bundles which dribbled onnoticed on the pier as she advanced and throwed her arms round her pa's and ma's neck. love is home, and with our dear children's arms about us and their warm smiles of delight and welcome and their loving words in our ear, we had got home. the children wuz stayin' at a fashionable boardin' house, kept by miss eliphalet snow, a distant relation of maggie's, who had lost her pardner and her property, but kep' her pride and took boarders for company, so she said. and we wuz all goin' to start for jonesville together the next day. but as the baggage of our party wuz kinder mixed up, josiah and i thought we would go with miss meechim's party to the tarven and stay. robert strong and our son, thomas j., met like two ships of one line with one flag wavin' over 'em, and bearing the same sealed orders from their captain above. how congenial they wuz, they had been friends always, made so onbeknown to them, they only had to discover each other, and then they wuz intimate to once, and dear. dorothy and miss meechim and the children greeted each other with smiles and glad, gay words. yes, all wuz a happy confusion of light words, gay laughter, saratoga trunks, smiles, joy, satchel bags--we had got home. as i stood there surrounded by all that i prized most on earth i had a glimpse of a haggard lookin' form arrayed in tattered finery, a bent figure, a young old face, old with drink and dissipation, that looked some way familiar though i couldn't place her. she looked at our party with a strange interest and seemed to say some murmured words of prayer or blessing or appeal, and disappeared--soon forgot in our boundless joy and the cares tendin' to our baggage. arvilly wuz glad to set her feet on shore, for she too loved her native land with the love that a good principled, but stern stepmother has for a interestin' but worrisome child that she's bringin' up by hand. she thought she would go with the children to their boarding-place, havin' knowed miss eliphalet snow in their young days, when miss snow wuz high-headed and looked down on her, and wantin' to dant her, i spoze, with accounts of her foreign travel. and we parted to meet agin in the mornin' to resoom our voyage to jonesville--blessed harbor where we could moor our two barks, josiah's and mine, and be at rest. miss meechim and dorothy and robert laid out to start for california the next day, as business wuz callin' robert there loud and he had to respond. and i may as well tell it now as any time, for it has got to be told. i knowed it wuz told to me in confidence, and it must be kep' for a spell anyway, robert and dorothy wuz engaged, and they wuz goin' to be married in a short time in her own beautiful home in san francisco. now you needn't try to git me to tell who told me, for i am not as sot as cast iron on that, i shall mention no names, only simply remarkin' that dorothy and robert set store by me and i by them. them that told me said that they felt like death to not tell miss meechim of the engagement, but knowin' her onconquerable repugnance to matrimony and to dorothy's marriage in particular, and not knowin' but what the news would kill her stun dead, them that told me said they felt that they had better git her back to her own native shores before bein' told, which i felt wuz reasonable. how i did hate to part with sweet dorothy, i loved her and she me visey versey. and robert strong, he sot up in my heart next to thomas j., and crowdin' up pretty clost to him too. miss meechim also had her properties, and we had gone through wearisome travel, dangers and fatigues, pleasant rest, delightful sight-seeing, poor vittles, joy and grief together, and it wuz hard to break up old ties. but it had to be. our life here on this planet is made up of meetin's and partin's. it is hail and farewell with us from the cradle to the grave. we all retired early, bein' tired out, and we slept well, little thinkin' of the ghastly shape that would meet us on the thresholt of the new day. but, oh, my erring but beloved country! why ortn't we to expect it as long as you keep the mills a-goin' that turns out such black, ghastly shadders by the thousands and thousands all the time, all the time, to enwrap your children. dorothy never knowed it--what wuz the use of cloudin' her bright young life with the awful shadder? but then, as i told robert, that black, dretful pall hangs over every home and every heart in our country and is liable to fall anywhere and at any time, no palace ruff is too high and no hovel ruff is too low to be agonized and darkened by its sombry folds. but he said it would make dorothy too wretched, and he could not have her told, and i agreed to it, but of course i told my pardner and his heart wuz wrung and his bandanna wet as sop in consequence on't. and he told miss meechim, too, that mornin', and her complaisant belief in genteel drinkin' and her conservative belief in the poor man's club, wuz shook hard--how hard i didn't know until afterwards. oh, how she, too, loved aronette! the children when they wuz told on't mourned because we did, and on their own account too, for they sot store by her what little they had seen of her--for nobody could see her without loving her. as for arvilly, her ideas on intemperance couldn't be added to or diminished by anything, but she wep' and cried for days. * * * * * well, i spoze you all want to know the peticulars. robert strong wuz the first one that left the tarven in the mornin'. he had to see a man very early on business. he went out by the ladies' entrance. and there crouched on the cold stun steps, waitin' we spozed to ketch another glimpse of dorothy, and mebby to ask for help, for she wuz almost naked, and her plump little limbs almost skin and bone, dead and cold, frozen and starved, so we spozed, lay aronette. pretty, happy little girl, dearly beloved, thrown by christian america to the wild beasts just as sure as nero ever did, only while he threw his human victims to be torn and killed for fun, america throws her human victims, her choicest, brightest youth, down to ruin and death, for greed. which looks the worst in god's sight? i d'no nor josiah don't. well, robert called a ambulance, had the poor boney, ragged victim took to a hospital, but all efforts wuz vain to resuscitate her. she had gone to give in her evidence against america's license laws, aginst army canteen, church and state, aginst licensed saloon keeper, aginst highest official and lowest voter, aginst sinner and saint, who by their encouragement or indifference make such crimes possible. the evidence wuz carried in, the criminals must meet it, it is waitin' for 'em, waitin'. of course the new york parties who helped robert, policemen, doctors, and nurses, thought very little of it, it wuz so common, all over the land, they said, such things was happening all the time from the same cause. and we knew it well, we knew of the wide open pit, veiled with tempting covering, wove by selfishness and greed, scattered over with flimsy flowers of excuse, palliation, expediency that tempts and engulfs our brightest youth, the noblest manhood, old and young, rich and poor--it is very common. but to us who loved the pretty, merry little maid, rememberin' her so happy and so good, and saw her ruined and killed before our eyes by the country that should have protected her, we kept it in our hearts, we could not forgit it. robert strong had her buried in a quiet corner of a cemetery and left orders for a stun cross to be put up to mark her grave. he asked me to write the epitaph which he had carved in the marble, and i did: aronette young, happy, beloved--murdered! vengeance is mine saith the lord. robert had it put on just as i writ it. he didn't tell dorothy anything about her death till they got home. she never see the epitaph; it wuz true as truth itself, but it wuz hash, and might have made her bed-sick, lovin' aronette as she did. but after dorothy strong wuz livin' with him, blessed and happy in their pretty, simple home in his city of justice, then he told her that aronette wuz dead, died in a hospital and wuz buried in a pleasant graveyard. and dorothy mourned for her as she would for a beloved sister. yes, dorothy will mourn for her all her days. the young man who wuz to marry her will live under the shadow of this sorrow all his life, for he is one of the constant ones who cannot forgit. the old grandmother in normandie waited for letters from her darling which never came, and will die waiting for her. the young man who enticed the pretty little maid into the canteen, licensed by america, and gave her stupefying drink, licensed by our laws, took her, staggering and stupid, to another dretful house, made as respectable as they can make it by our christian civilization. he lived long enough, i spoze, to add several more victims to the countless list of such murders that lays on our country's doorsteps, and then he too died, a bloated, loathsome wreck, makin' another victim for the recordin' angel to mark down, if there is room in her enormous books of debt and credit with this traffic for another name. and i spoze there is, for them books tower up mountain high, and new ones have to be opened anon or oftener, and will i spoze till god's time of reckonin' comes and the books are opened and the debts paid. it wuz a lovely day when we see the towers of jonesville loom up above the billows of environin' green. (i mean the m. e. steeple showin' up beyend grout nickleson's pine woods.) as the cars drew into the station they tooted their delight agin and agin at our safe return as the train stopped. as we walked up the platform i see josiah furtively on-button his stiff linen cuffs as if preparin' to throw 'em off for life. his face radiant, and hummin' _sotey vosey_ his favorite ballad: "hum agin, hum agin, from a furren shore." arvilly looked happy to agin touch the sile of home, and be able, as she said, to "tend to her things." and wuz not i happy? i who loved my country with the jealous love that makes a ma spank her boy for cuttin' up. is it love that makes a ma stand by, and see her boy turn summer sets and warhoop in meetin'-houses? nay, verily, every spank that makes him behave is a touching evidence of her warm devotion. i felt as i stood on the beloved sile of home (better sile and richer than any other), beneath its bright sunshine (warmer and brighter than any other sunshine) i felt that i loved my country with that passionate, jealous love that could never be contented till she rises up to the full glory she might and will have. when she sweeps her long strong arms round and brushes off vile politicians and time-servers, and uses a pure free ballot to elect good men and good wimmen to make good laws, then will come the golden age that i look for, and that will come, when justice will take her bandages off, and look out with both eyes over a prosperous and happy land. god speed the day! we parted with the children here, they goin' to their own homes, after promisin' to come and see me and their pa very soon. tommy throwed his arms round my neck and said he should stay with us half the time. we want him to. well, ury met us with the mair and warm smiles of welcome, and philury greeted us with joyous smiles and a good warm meat supper. they set store by us, lots of store, and when we gin 'em the presents we had brung for 'em from foreign shores, happiness seemed to radiate from 'em like light and warmth from the sun. josiah enjoyed his supper--yes, indeed--his liniment shone with satisfaction as he sot at the table in his stockin' feet and shirt sleeves, and eat more than wuz good for him, fur more. he had begun to onbend, and i knew that for days i couldn't keep clothes enough on him to be hardly decent, but knew also that that would wear away in time. feelin' first-rate when we got home, it only took us a short time to rest and recooperate from our tower, and receive calls from the children and grandchildren and jonesvillians. and the children helped philury and me to git the house all in order, and prepare for thanksgiving. i sent out invitations for a party; i laid out to invite all my own dear ones, old and young, elder minkley and his wife, arvilly, and how i did want to invite ernest white and waitstill webb, but he wuz away on a long vacation, and waitstill i hadn't hearn from for weeks, she wuz in the philippines the last i hearn. i wanted to invite all the brethern and sistern in the meetin'-house, but philury thought she couldn't wait on 'em all, and we compromised on the plan of havin' 'em all here to a evenin' social the week after, when we'd pass round things and not have so many dishes to wash. i laid out to be dretful thankful thanksgivin' day. i felt that my heart would keep the holiday with drums beatin' and flags wavin', to speak in metafor. for how much, how much i had to be thankful for! my beloved pardner and i had reached our own home in safety. the lord had watched over us in perils by water, perils by land, perils by fatigue, perils by josiah's strange, strange plans. tommy wuz as well as ever a child wuz; the doctor said his lungs wuz sound as a bell. all our dear ones at home had been kep' in safety and our home seemed more like a blissful oasis in a desert world than it ever did before. i always like to be up to the mark in everything, and i felt that i had so much to be thankful for thanksgivin' day that i laid out to git up early so's to begin to be thankful as soon as daylight anyway, and keep it up all day till long after candle light. but as it turned out i begun to keep the glorious holiday of thanksgivin' three days ahead and had to, for i couldn't help it. i believe in makin' preparations ahead; i believe in takin' time by the forelock and leadin' it along peaceable and stiddy by my side, instead of time's drivin' me, rough shod and pantin' for breath over a household path, rocky and rough with belated duties. and it wuz three days before thanksgivin' i sot in my clean, cheerful-lookin' kitchen seedin' some raisins for the fruit cake, josiah bein' out to the barn killin' two fat pullets for the chicken pie. ury wuz down in the swamp gittin' some evergreens and holly berries to decorate with, and philury dressin' the turkey and ducks in the back kitchen, when i heard a rap at the settin' room door and i wiped my hands on the roller towel and smoothed back my hair and went to the door. and who do you spoze stood there? his eyes shinin' brighter than the sky did, though that wuz clear blue, lit by a warm sunshine. it wuz ernest white, and guess who wuz by his side; i'll tell you, for you never could think who it wuz--it wuz waitstill webb. i had thought her face wuz as sweet as it could be in sorrow, but i had never seen it in gladness before. she looked like a sweet white rose just blowed out under the warm sun of a perfect june day. "ernest white!" sez i, "how glad i am to see you! and waitstill webb! can i believe my eyes?" sez i, "is it you?" and i took both their hands in mine at one time. "waitstill webb!" sez i agin, "is it you?" "no," sez ernest white, "it is waitstill white." you could have knocked me down with a hair-pin. i kissed 'em both smilin' and weepin', laughin' and cryin', we all on us wuz like three fools, or three wise ones, i d'no which. and that's how i begun to keep thanksgivin' more'n three days ahead. they come right into the kitchen and made me keep on with my work, which i did after a little, they takin' holt and helpin' me like two happy children. they stayed most all the forenoon, but had promised to go back to arvilly's to dinner. well! well! i hadn't been so tickled in matrimonial ways and riz up and routed and dumb foundered since thomas j. and maggie snow got engaged. it seems that ernest white had gone way out to the philippines after her, and they wuz married in a little american chapel by a missionary of the m. e. meetin'-house. they wuz goin' right to housekeeping in the widder pooler's, where he had boarded. the widder had gone to live with her daughter, mahala, in michigan, and ernest white has bought it. it stands in a pretty place near a evergreen grove, just on the edge of loontown near his people that he loves, and has gin his life work to make better. and, oh, what a sweet love-guarded home waitstill white is goin' to make for her pardner, and how happy ernest white is goin' to be with the woman he loves. for besides bein' so congenial and beloved, waitstill is as good a cook as i ever see, and no matter how much a man's soul soars up to the heavens, whilst his body is on earth he will always appreciate good vittles. love never did nor never will thrive on a empty stummick. harmony of soul is delightful, and perfect congeniality is sweet, and so is good yeast emtin' bread if it is made right, kneaded three times, riz in a cool place and baked to a turn. and tender broiled chops and chicken, and hot muffins and fragrant coffee has some the effect on the manly breast of love's young dream. waitstill is a real home lover and homemaker. and it seems that by her advice ernest white had had alterations in the house made that i approved highly on when i see 'em, and they had ordered lots of things to be sent from the city to make it pleasant, all put in first-rate order by the man left in charge, and they invited josiah and me to take tea with 'em the very next evenin' and go to meetin' with 'em, which we gladly accepted, seein' we had got our preparations so fur along; arvilly wuz goin' to be there they said. and, of course, i invited 'em to my thanksgivin' dinner, which they accepted with the same pleasure that we had theirn. chapter xxxvi well, the next day, or ruther that night i begun to make preparations to go to waitstill white's. i got a early supper that night so's to git to bed early so's to git up in good season; so's to git a early breakfast the next mornin', so's to git a early dinner, so's to start in good season for ernest and waitstill white's. and i kep' sayin' that over and over the next mornin', "ernest and waitstill white's," it sounded dretful good to me, dretful. i sez to philury, "we must have dinner early, for we are invited to ernest and waitstill white's." and i sez the same to josiah. and he sez, "you've said that to me a dozen times already." "well," sez i cheerfully, "mebby i shall say it a dozen times more." i felt well, dretful well in my mind. it had come out just as i had hoped and prayed for, and why shouldn't i feel good. well, they greeted us with warm affection. and you don't know how pretty their home looked. it had been fixed up in their absence and waitstill had put the finishin' touches to it when she come. it wuz a gloomy spot under the pooler regeem. but waitstill wuz a true homemaker and could make a barn seem home like, as folks can that have that gift. you often see folks who think, or say they think, that one set of faculties henders another set from workin'. but it hain't no such thing. miss pooler wuz nothin' but a housekeeper, and as poor a one at that as you would be apt to find in a day's travel, whilst waitstill wuz a philanthropist, a missionary, an angel on earth if ever there wuz one, and a homemaker and a home lover added to it, just as the bible sez: "seek first the kingdom of heaven and all these things shall be added unto you," or words to that effect. the settin'-room and parlor that used to seem like a dark-green curtained mausoleum, sacred to the mournin' pieces on the wall, and the hair wreaths of defunct poolers wuz now the sunshinny hant of beauty and cheerfulness. bay windows bordered with soft-colored glass, and curtained with fleecy white, let the sunshine stream into the pretty, freshly-decorated room, where it seemed to love to stay and shine. a conservatory full of blossoming plants made the settin' and dinin'-rooms full of cheer and perfume. one good stout german girl bore willin'ly the heaviest burdens of housekeeping, but waitstill and love and good judgment wuz to the hellum, and the result wuz beautiful. a happier household i don't want to see, a better supper i don't want to eat. waitstill had some briled chicken, tender and toothsome, some creamed potatoes, fixed just right, light white rolls, yellow sweet butter made from their own jersey cow's milk, clear amber honey from their own beehives, sliced peaches from their own peach trees (it wuz a late kind, each one rolled up in newspapers, and put in a box in the suller and kep' and purple and white grapes kep' in the same way). some pound cake made from my own reseet, a noble one that fell onto me from mother allen, and improved on by me, and some angel cake, made by waitstill herself, and as snowy and delicious as if it wuz made by a real angel with wings, some fragrant coffee with rich cream to make it delicious, and chocolate for them that preferred it. a big glass bowl of roses and carnations wuz in the centre, and the table wuz spread with a snowy linen cloth, and sot with beautiful china, white with a gold and pink sprig on it, part of a big quantity sent by his rich folks, who wuz delighted to have him marry such a sweet girl and settle down, and the heavy shinin' silver marked "w. w. w.," lookin' some like a runnin' vine, and the glossy linen tablecloths and napkins looking like satin covered with posies, come from the same source, also marked with her initials. enough, waitstill told me, to last 'em all their lives if they should live to be as old as methusaler and his wife. well, i wuz glad enough to see their prosperity and happiness and when ernest white sot to his own table by the side of waitstill white and in a few short, eloquent, heart-felt words asked the lord's blessing on this new home consecrated to his service, and on his dear friends happily returned home agin, my heart echoed every word and there wuzn't a dry eye in my head, not one. after supper wuz over we sot out to go to the meetin' he had spoke on. it wuz the openin' night of the new library, which wuz in a pretty little buildin' jined onto the meetin'-house and only a few minutes' walk from ernest and waitstill white's. there wuz a good, large room for the library filled with good books helpful and inspirin', bought partly by ernest white and partly by voluntary contributions by his people, a reading-room filled with magazines and newspapers and which with the library wuz to be opened every evening and two afternoons in the weeks. and there wuz a cozy little settin'-room and bed-room with a kitchen back out for the librarian. and who do you spoze wuz to be librarian and live here clost to her idol? oh, shaw! i might just as well told you right out as to have said that; it wuz arvilly. it wuz congenial work to her and left her plenty of time to go round canvassin' if she wanted to. we wuz a little late for the meetin', for a man come to see the elder just as we wuz startin', about marryin' him the next day, and as anybody knows that has to be tended to 'tennyrate. as we drawed nigh the library and meetin'-house we see they wuz lighted up in as friendly and pleasant a way as if they wuz two beacons set up to light our footsteps. and as we went in we see a group of happy faced young people gathered round the organ practicin' a piece they wuz learnin' for thanksgivin'. it wuz a sweet song of thankfulness and peace, filled with gratitude for all the blessin's of the year. a sweet song full of love to god and man and that would be apt to inspire the singers and hearers with forbearance, justice, mercy, sane living and thinking. in another part of the hall they wuz practicing some pretty pieces to speak at this celebration, but when elder white went in they all met him joyfully as a beloved father is met by his children, and they bestowed a loving greeting on waitstill too. these young men and women wuz ready to look through the magnifyin' glass of love at any lesson ernest white should set before them to fit 'em for life's battle. the meeting that night wuz a sort of a social, where the young and older folks met to get better acquainted with each other, and had a good time visitin' back and forth and comparin' notes and bein' introduced to waitstill and the new library. one attracted just about as much attention as the other, both wuz exceedingly interestin' to 'em and beloved. elder cross wuz there, he sets store by ernest white, though he is so different from him. he is good natered and a christian, i believe, though arvilly said he would have to be fixed over quite a good deal before he got into the kingdom. and i sez, "well, we all shall, arvilly." "ernest white won't," sez she, "all they will have to do to him will be to tack on a pair of wings and pin his crown on. he's a saint on earth now," sez she. well, elder cross come up to arvilly and welcomed her home and said a few words about ernest white's overwhelmin' success, which he considered a mericale, and he couldn't understand it. "well, i can understand it," sez arvilly, "i have always said that no power could stand before the church of christ when it is fully awakened to the enormity of the sin it is encouraging by its indifference and neglect, and bands itself together to fight against it. the saloon votes solid," sez arvilly, "they are faithful to their cause, they are fiery hot with zeal, the church a good many of 'em are lukewarm, some like the laodocians, and some like dish-water ready to be emptied down into the drain. america is ruled by her cities, and they are ruled by the saloon and unrighteous trusts and political bosses. foreigners from the old world slums flaunt the banner of independence in the face of american womanhood. and the church of god that might remedy the evils lets 'em go on." sez elder cross, "i know well that the saloon is a mighty power for evil, it ruins our youth, soul and body, and i know that monopoly is the thief that steals the rewards of labor. but i pray, sister arvilly, i pray without ceasing that the holy spirit will come down, and smite these offenders." sez arvilly the dantless one, "you don't depend on prayer alone in your church services, in taking up collections, etc., or in worldly affairs," (elder cross is real rich, he keeps a hen dairy). sez arvilly, "if you should depend on prayer alone to keep your big shanghai rooster from fightin' the little bantys i guess you would be apt to have considerable of a wake in your hen-yard. and you don't kneel down and shet your eyes and pray for your young turkeys and chickens when a pair of big wicked hawks are swoopin' down on 'em or a heavy thunder-storm comin' on. no, you drive your little onprotected broods into the first shelter you can find and go at the old hawks with a club. not that i approve of fightin'," sez arvilly, "but there is a time to pray and a time to use a horsewhip; our lord, who was and is our divine example, prayed thy kingdom come, and then helped it to come by driving out the money-changers, and them that defiled the temple. he might have prayed for them to be driv out and then folded his hands and waited for the millennium. but he didn't, nor he didn't say that human nature wuz too hard to handle, and that evil things had got to be changed gradual. he didn't take their rich gifts, he didn't make 'em church wardens, nor hang their pictures up in college halls to stimulate young men to go and do likewise. and that is what ministers of our lord and his disciples want to do to-day, to drive out of the temple and the country the fat thieves that infest it, and the sanctified rascals wearin' sheep's clothin'. they have got a powerful whip in a consecrated ballot that will drive the thieves out and make them disgorge their ill-gotten gains." elder cross wuz agitated; the argument wuz driving him into a corner where he didn't want to stand; he turned the conversation: "this is a great work dear brother white is doing, but some criticise the idea of his opening the house of god every evening for amusements as well as prayer. some don't believe in mingling secular things with sacred." sez arvilly, "what is more sacred to the lord than a saved soul, a lost one redeemed, a prodigal brought back. what headway is one church opened three hours a week goin' to make aginst twenty saloons open every day and night." arvilly begun to be powerful agitated and i spoke up quick, for i knew how hash she wuz when she got to goin', and i didn't want this beautiful day marred by hashness even if it wuz deserved. sez i, "we all know how much good the church has done in the past. and now that the churches are beginning to band themselves together, and vote as they pray, this enormous force of righteousness is going to be victorious over sin and darkness, and the saloon and the canteen, the licensed houses of shame, monument of woman's degradation, the unjust monopoly, the high fence separating the few enormously rich from the masses of the suffering, starving poor, will all have to fall. christ did not die in vain," sez i, "nor the blood of the martyrs has not been in vain. the lord has promised and he will fulfill." "god speed that day!" sez elder cross shettin' his eyes and claspin' his hands. "amen!" sez i. but i hearn arvilly behind me mutter, "you'll have to open your old eyes, elder, and go to work, or you won't have much hand in it." but i guess he didn't hear her. well, goin' home that night, my heart sung for joy a anthem, more than a ordinary sam tune. the bright moonlight rested on the democrat and my pardner, and gilded the way in front of us, and further off we could see it lay on the lake, and it seemed to make a silver path on it. life seemed worth livin', the cold waves of death seemed lit up with a heavenly glow, the hosts of evil seemed to back off before the angel of deliverance. i don't spoze that from maine to florida, or from jonesville to san francisco there wuz a happier thanksgivin' party than we had. havin' such sights and sights of things to be thankful for, i laid out as i say to begin to be thankful before candle light in the mornin' and keep it up all day long till bed time, and so i did. it wuz a lovely day, the sun shone into our bedroom winder through the beautiful knit fringe, made by my own hands, and rested on me lovin'ly as i combed my hair in front of the lookin'-glass. there had been a fall of snow the night before, as if nater had done her best for the occasion and spread her white ermine down for the feet of the angel, thanksgivin'. philury got breakfast most ready by candle light, and i'd been bein' thankful ever since she put the tea kettle over. "josiah," sez i, "do you realize what a glorious day this is and how much, how much we have to be thankful for?" he had broke one of his shue strings and wuz bent down breathin' kinder hard and tusslin' with it and his answer wuzn't what i could wished it wuz. but i knowed that it wuz because the blood had rushed to his head. he got it tied up in a few minutes and eat his breakfast with a splendid appetite. philury had good tender lamb chops and baked potatoes and light muffins and a fragrant cup of coffee, and josiah recovered his usual flow of sperits before we got half through. and we read together a chapter out of the book, and josiah made a prayer full of thankfulness that come from his very heart for the blessings of home and love and all the precious gifts the father bestowed on us durin' the year. the children come early and brought some lovely presents to us. we make a practice of givin' presents in our own family thanksgivin', for it always seemed so kinder appropriate that while we wuz givin' thanks we might just as well give a few more. and their presents to us wuz just what we wanted and ourn to them proved to be just what they wanted. of course it wuzn't all a happen; we had throwed out hints and perspected round as well as we could before we selected 'em, kinder throwed out the line of wonder and surmises, and ketched opinions and wishes on it. at ten a.m. we all got into two big sleighs and went to jonesville to meetin'. it wuz a union meetin' and elder white wuz chose to preach the thanksgivin' sermon. it wuz a beautiful discourse, it come from the depths of a thankful, lovin' christian heart and went right to ourn. the party i had invited went home with us from the meetin'-house, philury had the house all warm and it wuzn't long before we had dinner ready, of course we had got everything cooked we could the day before. the dinner, though of course i ortn't to say it, but they all said, and of course it must be so, they said it wuz the best thanksgivin' dinner that wuz ever cooked in this world, and josiah whispered to me as he helped himself to the third helpin' of turkey and dressin', that he knowed that there never wuz such a meal cooked in jupiter or mars or any other planet. but i whispered back, it wuzn't safe to say such things, sez i. "most probably they have many and lots of things we don't know anything about." "manny!" sez he, "how would manny show off by the side of this dressin'?" and he took another spunful. i spoze my dressin' duz go ahead of most, though it hain't made me hauty. well, how happy everybody wuz; how good they looked to me and i to them, i knew it by their liniments. how the children doted on me and their pa, how dear little tommy hung round us. how softened down arvilly wuz by her happiness in havin' waitstill back agin, but still she kep' her faculties from rustin', and sold two books that day for presents, and one to elder minkley for a sabbath school prize. how adorable waitstill looked in her pretty cashmere gown of pale violet color with white roses at her bosom and belt, she had throwed off her black as a reasonable widder should, i never approved of mournin' for one man whilst weddin' another, that is mournin' in public in crape and weeds. i don't believe she had a black rag on her, she might you know if she had been sly have put a black bindin' on her petticoat or a black pocket. i remember the widder doodle did, but i never approved of it. no, mournin' weeds are right in their place, and orange blossoms in theirn, but i never believed in mixin' the two. down deep in waitstill's heart, hid from every eye but the one who made that heart, wuz a place where her thought must retire into now and then and weep. yes, i knowed that whilst her loyal love and respect and reverence wuz all given to the man she loved, who wuz strong, her thought would anon or oftener have to go into that sombry room and weep for the young lover who wuz weak, but whose weakness would never have blossomed into crime had not his country hung the sodom apple before his eyes and his weak appetite yielded to it, had overthrown the labor and efforts of years, tempted him with low temptations that had been stronger than love, stronger than religion, stronger than life. all his life long he had fought against inherited tastes as they fought with wild beasts at ephesus, and he would have come off conqueror had it not been for licensed evils and the weaknesses in high and low places that permitted it to be. yes, into that closely locked, sombry chamber i knowed that waitstill would go alone and stay there for quite a spell. but after a time i mistrusted the sweet peace and happiness of her life would be such that she would go seldomer and make shorter visits when she did go. and its black gloom would be lighted by tones of living love and gleams of light and warmth from tender eyes. and i hoped that the time would come when dimpled baby fingers would gently bar the doorway and she wouldn't go there to stay for any length of time. well, the happy company stayed till nine p.m., when they departed with many pleasant and loving words, i being thankful every minute of the time, even when i see 'em drive off. you know sometimes as glad as you are to have company, and as well as you like 'em, you are kinder glad to set down quiet, and think over all the happy time, and rest your head. well, the next day after thanksgivin', early in the afternoon, josiah said he had got to go over to jonesville, and proposed that i should ride over with him. he said the mair kinder needed shuein', and sez he, "we might bring tommy home with us, for there wuzn't any school saturday, and he could stay over sunday with us." it duz seem now as if we can't help settin' a little more store by tommy than we do by the other grandchildren. but it better not be told i said it, it would make feelin's amongst the rest. well, we made lovely calls on the children, and got tommy, who wuz more than willin' to come, and returned home about ten a.m., tommy settin' between us and drivin' the mair, thomas j. and maggie sayin' they would drive over sunday night after him and take tea with us. we stopped at the post-office, and tommy run in and got three letters for me, two on 'em which i opened and read when i first got home, whilst josiah and tommy drove over to deacon henzy's on a errent. as i say i read two on 'em, but of the third one more anon. one of my letters wuz from cousin john richard, who had gone back to victor workin' for his lord in his own appointed way, teachin' the young, comfortin' the aged, and exhortin' the strong, helpin' to bear the burdens of the weak, and doin' it all in the name of him who is invisible, waitin' patient till the summons should be sent him to go home to his own land, for the bible sez that "them that do such things show plainly that they seek a country." fur acrost that dark continent from another oasis like victor beginnin' to be illuminated with the white light beamin' from the uplifted cross, come a message to me from another consecrated missionary and child of heaven, evangeline noble. she told me of the blessed work she wuz doin' in africa and how happy she wuz in it, for her master wuz with her tellin' her what to do from day to day, and she happy in carryin' out that work and seein' the light from heaven stream into dark minds and souls. how much store i set by her, i lay out to send her a barrel of things this fall, some dried apples, canned fruit, good books, a piece of rag carpet and a crazy quilt, not rarin' ravin' crazy, but sort o' beautifully delerious, embroidered with cat stitch round every block. and the other letter wuz from miss meechim. i read cousin john richard's and evangeline's, but i put hern on the mantletry piece and thought i wouldn't read it till about a hour after dinner, mistrustin' that it would agitate and work me up, so that my food wouldn't set good. dorothy's marriage to robert strong had took place a week before, but not a word had i heard from miss meechim, and i didn't know what effect the blow had had on her. josiah and i had been warmly invited to attend the weddin', but not feelin' willin' to embark on another tower we sent her a pretty present and love, lots and lots of love, and the earnest best wishes of our hearts. they wuz married in dorothy's home in san francisco, and went immegiately after the ceremony to their new home in the city of justice to begin their life work there. dorothy had writ me all the particulars of their marriage. they didn't want any show and display she said, and they took the money they would have had to spend to make a big wedding with a crowd of guests, elaborate dressing, rich viands, music, flowers, etc. they took this money and gave a holiday to the children in the city of justice, a beautiful dinner, music and gifts for all. and they wuz married in a plain, quiet way in the presence of a few relatives and close friends, she dressed in a pretty white muslin (and lookin' sweet as a rose i knew, though, of course, she didn't say so). and after a simple lunch, they drove out to their new home. but i hearn, and it come straight, too, that the children of the city of justice, just worshippin' robert strong as they did, they all on 'em dressed in white, their pretty heads crowned with roses, filled baskets with the sweetest flowers they could find and went out to meet the young couple beyend the gate. and as they approached, they met 'em with rejoicing songs sung in their sweet clear voices and scattered roses and sweet posies in their path, their bright, happy eyes and smilin' lips givin' 'em just as sweet a greetin'. and as they entered into the city at sunset, the workmen met 'em all dressed in holiday attire, and their cheers and blessings followed the carriage till they reached their own door, which wuz banked up with odorous blossoms as high as ever a snow drift blocked up the houses in jonesville, and they had to fairly wade through the sweet posies to git to their door. so, surrounded and blessed with love and rejoicings rising from grateful adoring hearts, robert and dorothy strong begun their married life. love and mercy standin' right by their sides like maids of honor, and honesty and justice like usher and best man, usherin' 'em into a useful and happy life of work and toil sweetened forever with gratitude and love. lovin' each other as dearly as ever a man and woman did, lovin' their lord supremely and showing that love in the way he bade his disciples to in caring for and blessing humanity. they begun that day a power of helpful inspiring influences that would bless the world, go through life with 'em and wait on 'em clear through the swellin' flood and lead 'em up onto the other shore from their city of justice and love here, to that sweet continuing city of rest and reward. i felt well about robert and dorothy--yes, my heart sung for joy carryin' the hull four parts, base, altore, bear tone and sulfireno. that is to say, the different faculties of my head and heart all jined in and sung together in happiness and made a full orkestry. you know when you hear of some marriages a part of you is pleased, mebby it is common sense, whilst romance and fancy has to set dumb and demute. or mebby fancy sings whilst cold reason is spreadin' a wet blanket on her part of the band, chillin' the notes and spilein' the instrument. but here reason, romance, love and common sense all jined in together and sung the wedding anthem loud and clear. but miss meechim, i felt dubersome about her; dorothy didn't mention her in her letter, bein' so took up with robert and love, so i spozed. i knowed well how repugnant matrimony wuz to her and how sternly resolved she wuz that dorothy should go through life a bachelor maid. i hated to read miss meechim's letter, i dreaded it like a dog. how did i know but her great disappointment and crushin' grief to see her hull life work smashed and demolished, had smit her down, and she had passed away writin' my name on a envelope with her last flicker of life and some stranger pen had writ me of the tragedy. i put the letter up on the mantletry piece and thought i wouldn't read it till about a hour after dinner. and whilst i wuz gittin' dinner and eatin' it and went about doin' up my work afterwards, i eyed that letter some as a cat eyes a dog kennel and hung off from readin' it. but wantin' to git the hard job over before night sot in, about the middle of the afternoon i read a few verses of foxe's book of martyrs, put two cushions in the rockin' chair, took a swaller of spignut and thorough-o'-wort to kinder hold up my strength, and a few whiffs of camfire, and then i put on my near-to specs, opened the letter with a deep sithe and begun to read. but good land! i needn't have foreboded so; i might have knowed that though her hatred of matrimony wuz great, her egotism and self esteem wuz bigger yet. the letter stated in glowin' terms her gratefulness to her creator to think she had a nephew so bound up in her interest and welfare. she said that she had mentioned one day, durin' a severe attack of bilerous colic her fears and forebodin's about dorothy's future if she should succumb to the colic and leave her alone. she said that it wuzn't a week after this that her nephew and dorothy had confided to her the fact of their engagement. sez she, "not one word to dorothy have i mentioned or ever shall mention as to robert's reasons for sacrificin' himself to ease my mind, and make me more care free. i wouldn't for the world," sez she, "have dorothy suspect why robert has made a martyr of himself, and to no one but you, josiah allen's wife," sez she, "shall i ever breathe it." but she felt that she could confide in me, and wanted me to know just how it wuz. so her colossial self esteem carried her through safely, and she wuz as happy as any on 'em. she wuz goin' to live in a little house robert had bought for her in san francisco. martha, the steady english maid, wuz goin' to live with her, as she had proved faithful. and she added a few heart breakin' words of grief and mournfulness about our dear lost aronette. and she gin me to understand that sence aronette's dretful death in new york she had gradually changed her mind about drinking. i believe arvilly's talk helped convince her, though miss meechim would never own it to her dyin' day, and i d'no as arvilly would want her to, they just naterally abominate each other. but 'tennyrate she said she felt that nothing that could lead on to that awful termination and terrible tragedy, could be called genteel. and she said she had had a argument with rev. mr. weakdew, in which they had both got genteelly angry (tearin' mad i should call it from what she told me of their interview). but i will pass over particulars which filled eight pages of large note paper, the upshot bein' that she had left his church for good and all, and jined a temperance mission church down in the city. and she wuz now writin' tracts to prove that intemperance wuz the beast with seven horns mentioned in scripture. good land! it has got more than seven horns, i believe, and all of 'em dagger sharp and wet with tears and heart's blood. she expected, she said, that these tracts would make a end to the liquor power and the social evil, and temperance would rain in the world some time durin' the comin' fall. but they won't. these evils are sot too firm on american soil, it will take a greater power than miss meechim's tracts to upheave 'em. but i am glad she is sot that way, for every little helps, and the breath of miss meechim's converted soul is blowin' the right way and when the hull christian world shall be converted, the united influence will move along a mighty overwhelmin' power that will sweep these ungodly evils from the face of the earth. then will come the golden days of peace, righteousness, the reign of the lord jesus, for which we pray every day when we say "thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven." a few from hundreds of press notices of samantha at the st. louis exposition by josiah allen's wife--(marietta holley) few characters of fiction will live longer than samantha. a fund of old-fashioned, homely but decidedly sound philosophy, yet an eye for the facetious phases of human nature, witty as well as philosophical. older readers can remember a few who have pleased for a time and been forgotten, and the few in recent years like david harum and eben holden have been most enthusiastically appreciated. the philosophy of samantha is broader and deeper than any of these characters. her insight when dealing with hidden motives is sharper and her wit keener. it is not surprising that the character has so long stood the test of time, and that a new book from the author is regarded as an important event in the book world. _pittsburg press_ those who went to the st. louis exposition--and those who wished to but did not, can have a good souvenir of the great show, and an account of it that will be interesting years hence as now, in "samantha at the st. louis exposition." samantha and josiah went to the fair, "took it all in," and samantha relates their experiences in her well-known quaint style. the characteristic illustrations of their adventures by c. grunwald are great. _cleveland plain dealer_ the main points of interest at the exposition are discussed and moralized over in her inimitable way by samantha. _the outlook_ samantha at the st. louis exposition, by josiah allen's wife, is a revival of what was perhaps one of the most popular humorous series ever issued. the present volume contains the same pathos and shrewd rustic sense with all the humor of her previous works. _baker & taylor's monthly bulletin of best selling books_ she has sampled the glories of the st. louis fair and described them in language of enduring worth. _boston advertiser_ a story full of the mixture of wit, pathos, eloquence and common sense. _new york globe_ very unlike her earlier books in appearance. it has a smart up-to-date binding and striking modern illustrations by grunwald. but miss holley's part is perfectly natural and familiar. it has lost none of its mirth, none of its common sense, none of its good clear-eyed religious way of looking at things. it is faithful to the spirit of a great deal that is best in american life. _syracuse post standard_ g. w. dillingham company publishers--new york what the critics say of samantha at the st. louis exposition by cyrus townsend brady _the new york tribune_ says--and it is true--that "mr. brady is fond of dashing themes and certainly here he has found a subject to suit his most exacting mood. he has taken a rascal for the hero of his picaresque and rattling romance. the author is lavish in incident and handles one thrilling situation after another with due sense of all the dramatic force that is to be got out of it. his description of the last moments of the old pirate is one of the most effective pieces of writing he has put to his credit. sir henry morgan--buccaneer is an absorbing story." "cyrus townsend brady has had the hardihood to set aside the romantic pirate of fictional tradition and paint a genuine historic pirate; lustful, murderous, brutal, relentless. the story has force and dramatic interest."--_the lamp._ "mr. brady has never before been so successful in creating a character who so completely fills the scene. morgan dominates the book from the first line to the last."--_philadelphia item._ "the story is a fascinating one--a concentration of all the pirate stories that ever were written."--_rochester herald._ "mr. brady has a graphic and realistic power of description. the novel is full measure and running over with thrills."--_brooklyn eagle._ "a thrilling pirate story, a lively romance sufficiently sensational yet not lacking in delicacy."--_boston transcript._ "the story is full of incident and has an appropriate measure of love and sword play."--_n. y. times._ "it is as rakish and dashing a craft on seas literary as any of the hero's black-flagged ships on seas actual."--_n. y. world._ "there is 'hot stuff' in sir henry morgan--buccaneer."--_n. y. evening sun._ "the interest of the action, pitched high in the beginning, is held to the point of utmost tension throughout."--_st. louis star._ _profusely and beautifully illustrated from paintings by j. n. marchand and drawings by will crawford. cloth-bound, $ . ._ sold everywhere, or sent postpaid free on receipt of price. g. w. dillingham co., publishers, new york new books and new editions john marsh's millions a novel by charles klein and arthur hornblow mo, cloth. illustrated. $ . . new faces a volume of eight stories by myra kelly these stories first published in the _saturday evening post_, _woman's home companion_ and _appleton's magazine_, now in book form. mo, cloth. illustrated. $ . . the house on stilts a novel by r. h. hazard mo, cloth. illustrated. $ . . bucky o'connor a novel by wm. m. raine, author of "wyoming," etc. mo. cloth. illustrated. $ . . children of destiny a play 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"to whom shall we go now for orders, your majesty?" "to me," answered louis, and from that date until his death in they had no other master. whether we accept the tale as literal fact or only as the vivid french way of visualizing a truth, we find here the central point of over fifty years of european history. the two celebrated cardinals, richelieu and mazarin, had, by their strength and wisdom, made france by far the most powerful state in europe. moreover, they had so reduced the authority of the french nobility, the clergy, and the courts of law as to have become practically absolute and untrammelled in their control of the entire government. now, all this enormous power, both at home and abroad, over france and over europe, was assumed by a young man of twenty-three. "i am the state," said louis at a later period of his career. he might almost have said, "i am europe," looking as he did only to the europe that dominated, and took pleasure in itself, and made life one continued glittering revel of splendor. independent europe, that claimed the right of thinking for itself, the suffering europe of the peasants, who starved and shed their blood in helpless agony--these were against louis almost from the beginning, and ever increasingly against him. at first the young monarch found life very bright around him. his courtiers called him "the rising sun," and his ambition was to justify the title, to be what with his enormous wealth and authority was scarcely difficult, the grand monarch. he rushed into causeless war and snatched provinces from his feeble neighbors, exhausted germany and decaying spain. he built huge fortresses along his frontiers, and military roads from end to end of his domains. his court was one continuous round of splendid entertainments. he encouraged literature, or at least pensioned authors and had them clustered around him in what frenchmen call the augustan age of their development.[ ] [footnote : see _louis xiv establishes absolute monarchy_, page .] the little german princes of the rhine, each of them practically independent ruler of a tiny state, could not of course compete with louis or defy him. nor for a time did they attempt it. his splendor dazzled them. they were content to imitate, and each little prince became a patron of literature, or giver of entertainments, or builder of huge fortresses absurdly disproportioned to his territory and his revenues. germany, it has been aptly said, became a mere tail to the french kite, its leaders feebly draggling after where louis soared. never had the common people of europe or even the nobility had less voice in their own affairs. it was an age of absolute kingly power, an age of despotism. england, which under cromwell had bid fair to take a foremost place in europe, sank under charles ii into unimportance. its people wearied with tumult, desired peace more than aught else; its king, experienced in adversity, and long a homeless wanderer in france and holland, seemed to have but one firm principle in life. whatever happened he did not intend, as he himself phrased it, to go on his "travels" again. he dreaded and hated the english parliament as all the stuarts had; and, like his father, he avoided calling it together. to obtain money without its aid, he accepted a pension from the french king. thus england also became a servitor of louis. its policy, so far as charles could mould it, was france's policy. if we look for events in the english history of the time we must find them in internal incidents, the terrible plague that devastated london in ,[ ] the fire of the following year, that checked the plague but almost swept the city out of existence.[ ] we must note the founding of the royal society in for the advancement of science, or look to newton, its most celebrated member, beginning to puzzle out his theory of gravitation in his woolsthorpe garden.[ ] [footnote : see _great plague in london_, page .] [footnote : see _great fire in london_, page .] [footnote : see _discovery of gravitation_, page .] continental wars louis's first real opponent he found in sturdy holland. her fleets and those of england had learned to fight each other in cromwell's time, and they continued to struggle for the mastery of the seas. there were many desperate naval battles. in an english fleet crossed the ocean to seize the dutch colony of new amsterdam, and it became new york.[ ] in a dutch fleet sailed up the thames and burned the shipping, almost reaching london itself. [footnote : see _new york taken by the english_, page .] yet full as her hands might seem with strife like this, holland did not hesitate to stand forth against the aggression of louis's "rising sun." when in his first burst of kingship, he seized the spanish provinces of the netherlands and so extended his authority to the border of holland, its people, frightened at his advance, made peace with england and joined an alliance against him. louis drew back; and the dutch authorized a medal which depicted holland checking the rising sun. louis never forgave them, and in , having secured german neutrality and an english alliance, he suddenly attacked holland with all his forces.[ ] [footnote : see _struggle of the dutch against france and england_, page .] for a moment the little republic seemed helpless. her navy indeed withstood ably the combined assaults of the french and english ships, but the french armies overran almost her entire territory. it was then that her people talked of entering their ships and sailing away together, transporting their nation bodily to some colony beyond louis's reach. it was then that amsterdam set the example which other districts heroically followed, of opening her dykes and letting the ocean flood the land to drive out the french. the leaders of the republic were murdered in a factional strife, and the young prince william iii of orange, descended from that william the silent who had led the dutch against philip ii, was made practically dictator of the land. this young prince william, afterward king william iii of england, was the antagonist who sprang up against louis, and in the end united all europe against him and annihilated his power. seeing the wonderful resistance that little holland made against her apparently overwhelming antagonists, the rest of germany took heart; allies came to the dutch. brandenburg and austria and spain forced louis to fall back upon his own frontier, though with much resolute battling by his great general, turenne. next to young william, louis found his most persistent opponent in frederick william, the "great elector" of brandenburg and prussia, undoubtedly the ablest german sovereign of the age, and the founder of prussia's modern importance. he had succeeded to his hereditary domains in , when they lay utterly waste and exhausted in the thirty years' war; and he reigned until , nearly half a century, during which he was ever and vigorously the champion of germany against all outside enemies. he alone, in the feeble germany of the day, resisted french influence, french manners, and french aggression. in this first general war of the germans and their allies against louis, frederick william proved the only one of their leaders seriously to be feared. louis made an alliance with sweden and persuaded the swedes to overrun brandenburg during its ruler's absence with his forces on the rhine. but so firmly had the great elector established himself at home, so was he loved, that the very peasantry rose to his assistance. "we are only peasants," said their banners, "but we can die for our lord." pitiful cry! pitiful proof of how unused the commons were to even a little kindness, how eagerly responsive! frederick william came riding like a whirlwind from the rhine, his army straggling along behind in a vain effort to keep up. he hurled himself with his foremost troops upon the swedes, and won the celebrated battle of fehrbellin. he swept his astonished foes back into their northern peninsula. brandenburg became the chief power of northern germany.[ ] [footnote : see _growth of prussia under the great elector: his victory at fehrbellin_, page .] in the peace of ryswick ended the general war, and left holland unconquered, but with the french frontier extended to the rhine, and louis at the height of his power, the acknowledged head of european affairs. austria was under the rule of leopold i, emperor of germany from to , whose pride and incompetence wholly prevented him from being what his position as chief of the hapsburgs would naturally have made him, the leader of the opposition, the centre around whom all europe could rally to withstand louis's territorial greed. leopold hated louis, but he hated also the rising protestant "brandenburger," he hated the "merchant" dutch, hated everybody in short who dared intrude upon the ancient order of his superiority, who refused to recognize his impotent authority. so he would gladly have seen louis crush every opponent except himself, would have found it a pleasant vengeance indeed to see all these upstart powers destroying one another. moreover, austria was again engaged in desperate strife with the turks. these were in the last burst of their effort at european conquest. no longer content with hungary, twice in leopold's reign did they advance to attack vienna. twice were they repulsed by hungarian and austrian valor. the final siege was in . a vast horde estimated as high as two hundred thousand men marched against the devoted city. leopold and most of the aristocracy fled, in despair of its defence. only the common people who could not flee, remained, and with the resolution of despair beat off the repeated assaults of the mahometans.[ ] [footnote : see _last turkish invasion of europe: sobieski saves vienna_, page .] they were saved by john sobieski, a king who had raised poland to one of her rare outflashing periods of splendor. with his small but gallant polish army he came to the rescue of christendom, charged furiously upon the huge turkish horde, and swept it from the field in utter flight. the tide of turkish power receded forever; that was its last great wave which broke before the walls of vienna. all hungary was regained, mainly through the efforts of austria's greatest general, prince eugene of savoy. the centre of the centuries of strife shifted back where it had been in hunyady's time, from vienna to the mighty frontier fortress of belgrad, which was taken and retaken by opposing forces. later efforts of louis xiv the earlier career of louis xiv seems to have been mainly influenced by his passion for personal renown; but he had always been a serious catholic, and in his later life his interest in religion became a most important factor in his world. the protestants of france had for wellnigh a century held their faith unmolested, safeguarded by that edict of nantes, which had been granted by henry iv, a catholic at least in name, and confirmed by cardinal richelieu, a catholic by profession. persuasive measures had indeed been frequently employed to win the deserters back to the ancient church; but now under louis's direction, a harsher course was attempted. the celebrated "dragonades" quartered a wild and licentious soldiery in protestant localities, in the homes of protestant house-owners, with special orders to make themselves offensive to their hosts. under this grim discouragement protestantism seemed dying out of france, and at last, in , louis, encouraged by success, took the final step and revoked the edict of nantes, commanding all his subjects to accept catholicism, while at the same time forbidding any to leave the country. huguenots who attempted flight were seized; many were slain. externally at least, the reformed religion disappeared from france.[ ] [footnote : see _revocation of the edict of nantes_, page .] of course, despite the edict restraining them, many huguenots, the most earnest and vigorous of the sect, did escape by flight; and some hundred thousands of france's ablest citizens were thus lost to her forever. large numbers found a welcome in neighboring holland; the great elector stood forward and gave homes to a wandering host of the exiles. england received colonies of them; and even distant america was benefited by the numbers who sought her freer shores. no enemy to france in all the world but received a welcome accession to its strength against her. in the same year that protestant europe was thus assailed and terrified by the reviving spectre of religious persecution, charles ii of england died and his brother james ii succeeded him. charles may have been catholic at heart, but in name at least he had retained the english religion. james was openly catholic. a hasty rebellion raised against him by his nephew, monmouth, fell to pieces;[ ] and james, having executed monmouth and approved a cruel persecution of his followers, began to take serious steps toward forcing the whole land back to the ancient faith. [footnote : see _monmouth's rebellion_, page .] so here was kingly absolutism coming to the aid of the old religious intolerance. the english people, however, had already killed one king in defence of their liberties; and their resolute opposition to james began to suggest that they might kill another. many of the leading nobles appealed secretly to william of orange for help. william was, as we have said, the centre of opposition to louis, and that began to mean to catholicism as well. also, william had married a daughter of king james and had thus some claim to interfere in the family domains. and, most important of all, as chief ruler of holland, william had an army at command. with a portion of that army he set sail late in and landed in england. englishmen of all ranks flocked to join him. king james fled to france, and a parliament, hastily assembled in , declared him no longer king and placed william and his wife mary on the throne as joint rulers.[ ] thus william had two countries instead of one to aid him in his life-long effort against louis. [footnote : see _the english revolution: flight of james ii_, page .] louis, indeed, accepted the accession of his enemy as a threat of war and, taking up the cause of the fugitive james, despatched him with french troops to ireland, where his catholic faith made the mass of the people his devoted adherents. there were, however, protestant irish as well, and these defied james and held his troops at bay in the siege of londonderry, while king william hurried over to ireland with an army. father-in-law and son-in-law met in the battle of the boyne, and james was defeated in war as he had been in diplomacy. he fled back to france, leaving his catholic adherents to withstand william as best they might. limerick, the catholic stronghold, was twice besieged and only yielded when full religious freedom had been guaranteed. irishmen to this day call it with bitterness "the city of the violated treaty."[ ] [footnote : see _siege of londonderry and the battle of the boyne_, page .] meanwhile the strife between louis and william had spread into another general european war. william had difficulties to encounter in his new kingdom. its people cared little for his continental aims and gave him little loyalty of service. in fact, peculation among public officials was so widespread that, despite large expenditures of money, england had only a most feeble, inefficient army in the field, and william was in black disgust against his new subjects. it was partly to aid the government in its financial straits that the bank of england was formed in .[ ] [footnote : see _establishment of the bank of england_, page .] yet louis's troubles were greater and of deeper root. catholic austria and even the pope himself, unable to submit to the arrogance of the "grand monarch," took part against him in this war. it can therefore no longer be regarded as a religious struggle. it marks the turning-point in louis's fortunes. his boundless extravagance had exhausted france at last. both in wealth and population she began to feel the drain. the french generals won repeated victories, yet they had to give slowly back before their more numerous foes; and in louis purchased peace by making concessions of territory as well as courtesy. this peace proved little more than a truce. for almost half a century the european sovereigns had been waiting for charles ii of spain to die. he was the last of his race, last of the spanish hapsburgs descended from the emperor charles v, and so infirm and feeble was he that it seemed the flickering candle of his life must puff out with each passing wind. who should succeed him? in mazarin's time, that crafty minister had schemed that the prize should go to france, and had wedded young louis xiv to a spanish princess. the austrian hapsburgs of course wanted the place for themselves, though to establish a common ancestry with their spanish kin they must turn back over a century and a half to ferdinand and isabella. but strong men grew old and died, while the invalid charles ii still clung to his tottering throne. louis ceased hoping to occupy it himself and claimed it for his son, then for his grandson, philip. not until , after a reign of nearly forty years, did charles give up the worthless game and expire. he declared philip his heir, and the aged louis sent the youth to spain with an eager boast, "go; there are no longer any pyrenees." that is, france and spain were to be one, a mighty bourbon empire. that was just what europe, experienced in louis's unscrupulous aggression, dared not allow. so another general alliance was formed, with william of holland and england at its head, to drive philip from his new throne in favor of a hapsburg. william died before the war was well under way, but the british people understood his purposes now and upheld them. once more they felt themselves the champions of protestantism in europe. anne, the second daughter of the deposed king james, was chosen as queen; and under her the two realms of england and scotland were finally joined in one by the act of union ( ), with but a single parliament.[ ] [footnote : see _union of england and scotland_, page .] meanwhile marlborough was sent to the rhine with a strong british army. prince eugene paused in fighting the turks and joined him with austrian and german troops. together they defeated the french in the celebrated battle of blenheim ( ),[ ] and followed it in later years with oudenarde and malplaquet. louis was beaten. france was exhausted. the grand monarch pleaded for peace on almost any terms. [footnote : see _battle of blenheim: curbing of louis xiv_, page .] yet his grandson remained on the spanish throne. for one reason, the spaniards themselves upheld him and fought for him. for another, the allies' austrian candidate became emperor of germany, and to make him ruler of spain as well would only have been to consolidate the hapsburg power instead of that of the bourbons. made dubious by this balance between evils, europe abandoned the war. so there were two bourbon kingdoms after all--but both too exhausted to be dangerous. louis had indeed outlived his fame. he had roused the opposition of all his neighbors, and ruined france in the effort to extend her greatness. the praises and flattery of his earlier years reached him now only from the lips of a few determined courtiers. his people hated him, and in celebrated his death as a release. frenchmen high and low had begun the career which ended in their terrific revolution. lying on his dreary death-bed, the grand monarch apologized that he should "take so long in dying." perhaps he, also, felt that he delayed the coming of the new age. what his career had done was to spread over all europe a new culture and refinement, to rouse a new splendor and recklessness among the upper classes, and to widen almost irretrievably the gap between rich and poor, between kings and commons. in the very years that parliamentary government was becoming supreme in england, absolutism established itself upon the continent. changes in northern europe toward the close of this age the balance of power in northern europe shifted quite as markedly as it had farther south. three of the german electoral princes became kings. the elector of saxony was chosen king of poland, thereby adding greatly to his power. george, elector of hanover, became king of england on the death of queen anne. and the elector of brandenburg, son of the great elector, when the war of against france and spain broke out, only lent his aid to the european coalition on condition that the german emperor should authorize him also to assume the title of king, not of brandenburg but of his other and smaller domain of prussia, which lay outside the empire. most of the european sovereigns smiled at this empty change of title without a change of dominions; but brandenburg or prussia was thus made more united, more consolidated, and it soon rose to be the leader of northern germany. a new family, the hohenzollerns, contested european supremacy with the hapsburgs and the bourbons.[ ] [footnote : see _prussia proclaimed a kingdom_, page .] more important still was the strife between sweden and russia. sweden had been raised by gustavus adolphus to be the chief power of the north, the chosen ally of richelieu and mazarin. her soldiers were esteemed the best of the time. the prestige of the swedes had, to be sure, suffered somewhat in the days when the great elector defeated them so completely at fehrbellin and elsewhere. but louis xiv had stood by them as his allies, and saved them from any loss of territory, so that in sweden still held not only the scandinavian peninsula but all the lands east of the baltic as far as where st. petersburg now stands, and much of the german coast to southward. the baltic was thus almost a swedish lake, when in a new warrior king, charles xii, rose to reassert the warlike supremacy of his race. he was but fifteen when he reached the throne; and denmark, poland, and russia all sought to snatch away his territories. he fought the danes and defeated them. he fought the saxon elector who had become king of poland. soon both poland and saxony lay crushed at the feet of the "lion of the north," as they called him then--"madman of the north," after his great designs had failed. only russia remained to oppose him--russia, as yet almost unknown to europe, a semi-barbaric frontier land, supposedly helpless against the strength and resources of civilization. russia was in the pangs of a most sudden revolution. against her will she was being suddenly and sharply modernized by peter the great, most famous of her czars. he had overthrown the turbulent militia who really ruled the land, and had waded through a sea of bloody executions to establish his own absolute power.[ ] he had travelled abroad in disguise, studied shipbuilding in holland, the art of government in england, and fortification and war wheresoever he could find a teacher. removing from the ancient, conservative capital of moscow, he planted his government, in defiance of sweden, upon her very frontier, causing the city of st. petersburg to arise as if by magic from a desolate, icy swamp in the far north.[ ] [footnote : see _peter the great modernizes russia: suppression of the streltsi_, page .] [footnote : see _founding of st. petersburg_, page .] charles of sweden scorned and defied him. at narva in , charles with a small force of his famous troops drove peter with a huge horde of his russians to shameful flight. "they will teach us to beat them," said peter philosophically; and so in truth he gathered knowledge from defeat after defeat, until at length at poltava in he completely turned the tables upon charles, overthrew him and so crushed his power that russia succeeded sweden as ruler of the extreme north, a rank she has ever since retained.[ ] [footnote : see _downfall of charles xii at poltava: triumph of russia_, page .] growth of america the vast political and social changes of europe in this age found their echo in the new world. the decay of spain left her american colonies to feebleness and decay. the islands of the caribbean sea became the haunt of the buccaneers, pirates, desperadoes of all nations who preyed upon spanish ships, and, as their power grew, extended their depredations northward along the american coast. so important did these buccaneers become that they formed regular governments among themselves. the most famed of their leaders was knighted by england as sir henry morgan; and the most renowned of his achievements was the storm and capture of the spanish treasure city, panama.[ ] [footnote : see _morgan, the buccaneer, sacks panama_, page .] as spain grew weak in america, france grew strong. from her canadian colonies she sent out daring missionaries and traders, who explored the great lakes and the mississippi valley.[ ] they made friends with the indians; they founded louisiana.[ ] all the north and west of the continent fell into their hands. [footnote : see _discovery of the mississippi_, page .] [footnote : see _colonization of louisiana_, page .] never, however, did their numbers approach those of the english colonists along the atlantic coast. both massachusetts and virginia were grown into important commonwealths, almost independent of england, and well able to support the weaker settlements rising around them. after the great puritan exodus to new england to escape the oppression of charles i, there had come a royalist exodus to virginia to escape the puritanic tyranny of cromwell's time. large numbers of catholics fled to maryland. huguenots established themselves in the carolinas and elsewhere. then came penn to build a great quaker state among the scattered dutch settlements along the delaware.[ ] the american seaboard became the refuge of each man who refused to bow his neck to despotism of whatever type. [footnote : see _william penn receives the grant of pennsylvania: founding of philadelphia_, page .] under such settlers english america soon ceased to be a mere offshoot of europe. it became a world of its own; its people developed into a new race. they had their own springs of action, their own ways of thought, different from those of europe, more simple and intense as was shown in the salem witchcraft excitement, or more resolute and advanced as was revealed in bacon's virginia rebellion.[ ] [footnote : see _salem witchcraft trials_, page .] the aboriginal inhabitants, the indians, found themselves pressed ever backward from the coast. they resisted, and in there arose in new england, king philip's war, which for that section at least settled the indian question forever. the red men of new england were practically exterminated.[ ] those of new york, the iroquois, were more fortunate or more crafty. they dwelt deeper in the wilderness, and formed a buffer state between the french in canada and the english to the south, drawing aid now from one, now from the other. [footnote : see _king philip's war_, page .] each war between england and louis xiv was echoed by strife between their rival colonies. when king william supplanted james in there followed in america also a "bloodless revolution."[ ] governor andros, whom james had sent to imitate his own harsh tyranny in the colonies, was seized and shipped back to england. william was proclaimed king. the ensuing strife with france was marked by the most bloody of all america's indian massacres. the iroquois descended suddenly on canada; the very suburbs of its capital, montreal, were burned, and more than a thousand of the unsuspecting settlers were tortured, or more mercifully slain outright.[ ] [footnote : see _tyranny of andros in new england: the bloodless revolution_, page .] [footnote : see _massacre of lachine_, page .] in the later war about the spanish throne, england captured nova scotia, the southern extremity of the french canadian seaboard; and part of the price louis xiv paid for peace was to leave this colony in england's hands.[ ] the scale of american power began to swing markedly in her favor. everywhere over the world, as the eighteenth century progressed, england with her parliamentary government was rising into power at the expense of france and absolutism. [footnote : see _capture of port royal: france surrenders nova scotia to england_, page .] [footnote: for the next section of this general survey see volume xiii.] %louis xiv establishes absolute monarchy% a.d. james cotter morison not only was the reign of louis xiv one of the longest in the world's history, but it also marked among western nations the highest development of the purely monarchical principle. including the time that louis ruled under the guardianship of his mother and the control of his minister, cardinal mazarin, the reign covered more than seventy years ( - ). the sovereign who could say, "i am the state" ("_l'État c'est moi_"), and see his subjects acquiesce with almost asiatic humility, while europe looked on in admiration and fear, may be said to have embodied for modern times the essence of absolutism. that all things, domestic and foreign, seemed to be in concurrence for giving practical effect to the grand monarque's assumption of supremacy is shown by the fact that his name dominates the whole history of his time. his reign was not only "the augustan age of france"; it marked the ascendency of france in europe. of such a reign no adequate impression is to be derived from reading even the most faithful narrative of its thronging events. but the reign as well as the personality of louis is set in clear perspective for us by morison's picturesque and discriminating treatment. the reign of louis xiv was the culminating epoch in the history of the french monarchy. what the age of pericles was in the history of the athenian democracy, what the age of the scipios was in the history of the roman republic, that was the reign of louis xiv in the history of the old monarchy of france. the type of polity which that monarchy embodied, the principles of government on which it reposed or brought into play, in this reign attain their supreme expression and development. before louis xiv the french monarchy has evidently not attained its full stature; it is thwarted and limited by other forces in the state. after him, though unresisted from without, it manifests symptoms of decay from within. it rapidly declines, and totally disappears seventy-seven years after his death. but it is not only the most conspicuous reign in the history of france--it is the most conspicuous reign in the history of monarchy in general. of the very many kings whom history mentions, who have striven to exalt the monarchical principle, none of them achieved a success remotely comparable to his. his two great predecessors in kingly ambition, charles v and philip ii, remained far behind him in this respect. they may have ruled over wider dominions, but they never attained the exceptional position of power and prestige which he enjoyed for more than half a century. they never were obeyed so submissively at home nor so dreaded and even respected abroad. for louis xiv carried off that last reward of complete success, that he for a time silenced even envy, and turned it into admiration. we who can examine with cold scrutiny the make and composition of this colossus of a french monarchy; who can perceive how much the brass and clay in it exceeded the gold; who know how it afterward fell with a resounding ruin, the last echoes of which have scarcely died away, have difficulty in realizing the fascination it exercised upon contemporaries who witnessed its first setting up. louis xiv's reign was the very triumph of commonplace greatness, of external magnificence and success, such as the vulgar among mankind can best and most sincerely appreciate. had he been a great and profound ruler, had he considered with unselfish meditation the real interests of france, had he with wise insight discerned and followed the remote lines of progress along which the future of europe was destined to move, it is lamentably probable that he would have been misunderstood in his lifetime and calumniated after his death. louis xiv was exposed to no such misconception. his qualities were on the surface, visible and comprehensible to all; and although none of them was brilliant, he had several which have a peculiarly impressive effect when displayed in an exalted station. he was indefatigably industrious; worked on an average eight hours a day for fifty-four years; had great tenacity of will; that kind of solid judgment which comes of slowness of brain, and withal a most majestic port and great dignity of manners. he had also as much kindliness of nature as the very great can be expected to have; his temper was under severe control; and, in his earlier years at least, he had a moral apprehensiveness greater than the limitations of his intellect would have led one to expect. his conduct toward molière was throughout truly noble, and the more so that he never intellectually appreciated molière's real greatness. but he must have had great original fineness of tact, though it was in the end nearly extinguished by adulation and incense. his court was an extraordinary creation, and the greatest thing he achieved. he made it the microcosm of all that was the most brilliant and prominent in france. every order of merit was invited there and received courteous welcome. to no circumstance did he so much owe his enduring popularity. by its means he impressed into his service that galaxy of great writers, the first and the last classic authors of france, whose calm and serene lustre will forever illumine the epoch of his existence. it may even be admitted that his share in that lustre was not so accidental and undeserved as certain king-haters have supposed. that subtle critic, m. sainte-beuve, thinks he can trace a marked rise even in bossuet's style from the moment he became a courtier of louis xiv. the king brought men together, placed them in a position where they were induced and urged to bring their talents to a focus. his court was alternately a high-bred gala and a stately university. if we contrast his life with those of his predecessor and successor, with the dreary existence of louis xiii and the crapulous lifelong debauch of louis xv, we become sensible that louis xiv was distinguished in no common degree; and when we further reflect that much of his home and all of his foreign policy was precisely adapted to flatter, in its deepest self-love, the national spirit of france, it will not be quite impossible to understand the long-continued reverberation of his fame. but louis xiv's reign has better titles than the adulations of courtiers and the eulogies of wits and poets to the attention of posterity. it marks one of the most memorable epochs in the annals of mankind. it stretches across history like a great mountain range, separating ancient france from the france of modern times. on the further slope are catholicism and feudalism in their various stages of splendor and decay--the france of crusade and chivalry, of st. louis and bayard. on the hither side are freethought, industry, and centralization--the france of voltaire, turgot, and condorcet. when louis came to the throne the thirty years' war still wanted six years of its end, and the heat of theological strife was at its intensest glow. when he died the religious temperature had cooled nearly to freezing-point, and a new vegetation of science and positive inquiry was overspreading the world. this amounts to saying that his reign covers the greatest epoch of mental transition through which the human mind has hitherto passed, excepting the transition we are witnessing in the day which now is. we need but recall the names of the writers and thinkers who arose during louis xiv's reign, and shed their seminal ideas broadcast upon the air, to realize how full a period it was, both of birth and decay; of the passing away of the old and the uprising of the new forms of thought. to mention only the greatest; the following are among the chiefs who helped to transform the mental fabric of europe in the age of louis xiv: descartes, newton, leibnitz, locke, boyle. under these leaders the first firm irreversible advance was made out of the dim twilight of theology into the clear dawn of positive and demonstrative science. inferior to these founders of modern knowledge, but holding a high rank as contributors to the mental activity of the age, were pascal, malebranche, spinoza, and bayle. the result of their efforts was such a stride forward as has no parallel in the history of the human mind. one of the most curious and significant proofs of it was the spontaneous extinction of the belief in witchcraft among the cultivated classes of europe, as the english historian of rationalism has so judiciously pointed out. the superstition was not much attacked, and it was vigorously defended, yet it died a natural and quiet death from the changed moral climate of the world. but the chief interest which the reign of louis xiv offers to the student of history has yet to be mentioned. it was the great turning-point in the history of the french people. the triumph of the monarchical principle was so complete under him, independence and self-reliance were so effectually crushed, both in localities and individuals, that a permanent bent was given to the national mind--a habit of looking to the government for all action and initiative permanently established. before the reign of louis xiv it was a question which might fairly be considered undecided: whether the country would be able or not, willing or not, to coöperate with its rulers in the work of the government and the reform of abuses. on more than one occasion such coöperation did not seem entirely impossible or improbable. the admirable wisdom and moderation shown by the tiers-État in the states-general of , the divers efforts of the parliament of paris to check extravagant expenditure, the vigorous struggles of the provincial assemblies to preserve some relic of their local liberties, seemed to promise that france would continue to advance under the leadership indeed of the monarchy, yet still retaining in large measure the bright, free, independent spirit of old gaul, the gaul of rabelais, montaigne, and joinville. after the reign of louis xiv such coöperation of the ruler and the ruled became impossible. the government of france had become a machine depending upon the action of a single spring. spontaneity in the population at large was extinct, and whatever there was to do must be done by the central authority. as long as the government could correct abuses it was well; if it ceased to be equal to this task, they must go uncorrected. when at last the reform of secular and gigantic abuses presented itself with imperious urgency, the alternative before the monarchy was either to carry the reform with a high hand or perish in the failure to do so. we know how signal the failure was, and could not help being, under the circumstances; and through having placed the monarchy between these alternatives, it is no paradox to say that louis xiv was one of the most direct ancestors of the "great revolution." nothing but special conditions in the politics both of europe and of france can explain this singular importance and prominence of louis xiv's reign. and we find that both france and europe were indeed in an exceptional position when he ascended the throne. the continent of europe, from one end to the other, was still bleeding and prostrate from the effect of the thirty years' war when the young louis, in the sixteenth year of his age, was anointed king at rheims. although france had suffered terribly in that awful struggle, she had probably suffered less than any of the combatants, unless it be sweden. it happened by a remarkable coincidence that precisely at this moment, when the condition of europe was such that an aggressive policy on the part of france could be only with difficulty resisted by her neighbors, the power and prerogatives of the french crown attained an expansion and preeminence which they had never enjoyed in the previous history of the country. the schemes and hopes of philip the fair, of louis xi, of henry iv, and of richelieu had been realized at last; and their efforts to throw off the insolent coercion of the great feudal lords had been crowned with complete success. the monarchy could hardly have conjectured how strong it had become but for the abortive resistance and hostility it met with in the fronde. the flames of insurrection which had shot up, forked and menacing, fell back underground, where they smouldered for four generations yet to come. the kingly power soared, single and supreme, over its prostrate foes. long before louis xiv had shown any aptitude or disposition for authority, he was the object of adulation as cringing as was ever offered to a roman emperor. when he returned from his consecration at rheims, the rector of the university of paris, at the head of his professorial staff, addressed the young king in these words: "we are so dazzled by the new splendor which surrounds your majesty that we are not ashamed to appear dumfounded at the aspect of a light so brilliant and so extraordinary"; and at the foot of an engraving at the same date he is in so many words called a demigod. it is evident that ample materials had been prepared for what the vulgar consider a great reign. abundant opportunity for an insolent and aggressive foreign policy, owing to the condition of europe. security from remonstrance or check at home, owing to the condition of france. the temple is prepared for the deity; the priests stand by, ready to offer victims on the smoking altar; the incense is burning in anticipation of his advent. on the death of mazarin, in , he entered into his own. louis xiv never forgot the trials and humiliations to which he and his mother had been subjected during the troubles of the fronde. it has often been remarked that rulers born in the purple have seldom shown much efficiency unless they have been exposed to exceptional and, as it were, artificial probations during their youth. during the first eleven years of louis' reign--incomparably the most creditable to him--we can trace unmistakably the influence of the wisdom and experience acquired in that period of anxiety and defeat. he then learned the value of money and the supreme benefits of a full exchequer. he also acquired a thorough dread of subjection to ministers and favorites--a dread so deep that it implied a consciousness of probable weakness on that side. as he went on in life he to a great extent forgot both these valuable lessons, but their influence was never entirely effaced. to the astonishment of the courtiers and even of his mother he announced his intention of governing independently, and of looking after everything himself. they openly doubted his perseverance. "you do not know him," said mazarin. "he will begin rather late, but he will go further than most. there is enough stuff in him to make four kings and an honest man besides." his first measures were dictated less by great energy of initiative than by absolute necessity. the finances had fallen into such a chaos of jobbery and confusion that the very existence of the government depended upon a prompt and trenchant reform. it was louis' rare good-fortune to find beside him one of the most able and vigorous administrators who have ever lived--colbert. he had the merit--not a small one in that age--of letting this great minister invent and carry out the most daring and beneficial measures of reform, of which he assumed all the credit to himself. the first step was a vigorous attack on the gang of financial plunderers, who, with fouquet at their head, simply embezzled the bulk of the state revenues. the money-lenders not only obtained the most usurious interest for their loans, but actually held in mortgage the most productive sources of the national taxation: and, not content with that, they bought up, at per cent. of their nominal value, an enormous amount of discredited bills, issued by the government in the time of the fronde, which they forced the treasury to pay off at par; and this was done with the very money they had just before advanced to the government. such barefaced plunder could not be endured, and colbert was the last man to endure it. he not only repressed peculation, but introduced a number of practical improvements in the distribution, and especially in the mode of levying the taxes. so imperfect were the arrangements connected with the latter that it was estimated that of eighty-four millions paid by the people, only thirty-two millions entered into the coffers of the state. the almost instantaneous effects of colbert's measures--the yawning deficit was changed into a surplus of forty-five millions in less than two years--showed how gross and flagrant had been the malversation preceding. far more difficult, and far nobler in the order of constructive statesmanship, were his vast schemes to endow france with manufactures, with a commercial and belligerent navy, with colonies, besides his manifold reforms in the internal administration--tariffs and customs between neighboring provinces of france; the great work of the languedoc canal; in fact, in every part and province of government. his success was various, but in some cases really stupendous. his creation of a navy almost surpasses belief. in , when he first became free to act, france possessed only thirty vessels-of-war of all sizes. at the peace of nimwegen, in , she had acquired a fleet of one hundred twenty ships, and in she had got a fleet of one hundred seventy-six vessels; and the increase was quite as great in the size and armament of the individual ships as in their number. a perfect giant of administration, colbert found no labor too great for his energies, and worked with unflagging energy sixteen hours a day for twenty-two years. it is melancholy to be forced to add that all this toil was as good as thrown away, and that the strong man went broken-hearted to the grave, through seeing too clearly that he had labored in vain for an ungrateful egotist. his great visions of a prosperous france, increasing in wealth and contentment, were blighted; and he closed his eyes upon scenes of improvidence and waste more injurious to the country than the financial robbery which he had combated in his early days. the government was not plundered as it had been, but itself was exhausting the very springs of wealth by its impoverishment of the people. boisguillebert, writing in , only fifteen years after colbert's death, estimated the productive powers of france to have diminished by one-half in the previous thirty years. it seems, indeed, probable that the almost magical rapidity and effect of colbert's early reforms turned louis xiv's head, and that he was convinced that it only depended on his good pleasure to renew them to obtain the same result. he never found, as he never deserved to find, another colbert; and he stumbled onward in ever deeper ruin to his disastrous end. his first breach of public faith was his attack on the spanish netherlands, under color of certain pretended rights of the queen, his wife--the infanta marie thérèse; although he had renounced all claims in her name at his marriage. this aggression was followed by his famous campaign in the low countries, when franche-comté was overrun and conquered in fifteen days. he was stopped by the celebrated triple alliance in mid career. he had not yet been intoxicated by success and vanity; colbert's influence, always exerted on the side of peace, was at its height, the menacing attitude of holland, england, and sweden awed him, and he drew back. his pride was deeply wounded, and he revolved deep and savage schemes of revenge. not on england, whose abject sovereign he knew could be had whenever he chose to buy him, but on the heroic little republic which had dared to cross his victorious path. his mingled contempt and rage against holland were indeed instinctive, spontaneous, and in the nature of things. holland was the living, triumphant incarnation of the two things he hated most--the principle of liberty in politics and the principle of free inquiry in religion. with a passion too deep for hurry or carelessness he made his preparations. the army was submitted to a complete reorganization. a change in the weapons of the infantry was effected, which was as momentous in its day as the introduction of the breech-loading rifle in ours. the old inefficient firelock was replaced by the flint musket, and the rapidity and certainty of fire vastly increased. the undisciplined independence of the officers commanding regiments and companies was suppressed by the rigorous and methodical colonel martinet, whose name has remained in other armies besides that of france as a synonyme of punctilious exactitude. the means of offence being thus secured, the next step was to remove the political difficulties which stood in the way of louis' schemes; that is, to dissolve sir w. temple's diplomatic masterpiece, the triple alliance. the effeminate charles ii was bought over by a large sum of money and the present of a pretty french mistress. sweden also received a subsidy, and her schemes of aggrandizement on continental germany were encouraged. meanwhile the illustrious man who ruled holland showed that kind of weakness which good men often do in the presence of the unscrupulous and wicked. john de witt could not be convinced of the reality of louis' nefarious designs. france had ever been holland's best friend, and he could not believe that the policy of henry iv, of richelieu and mazarin, would be suddenly reversed by the young king of france. he tried negotiations in which he was amused by louis so long as it suited the latter's purpose. at last, when the king's preparations were complete, he threw off the mask, and insultingly told the dutch that it was not for hucksters like them, and usurpers of authority not theirs, to meddle with such high matters. then commenced one of the brightest pages in the history of national heroism. at first the dutch were overwhelmed; town after town capitulated without a blow. it seemed as if the united provinces were going to be subdued, as franche-comté had been five years before. but louis xiv had been too much intoxicated by that pride which goes before a fall to retain any clearness of head, if indeed he ever had any, in military matters. the great condé, with his keen eye for attack, at once suggested one of those tiger-springs for which he was unequalled among commanders. seeing the dismay of the dutch, he advised a rapid dash with six thousand horse on amsterdam. it is nearly certain, if this advice had been followed, that the little commonwealth, so precious to europe, would have been extinguished; and that that scheme, born of heroic despair, of transferring to batavia, "under new stars and amid a strange vegetation," the treasure of freedom and valor ruined in its old home by the sardanapalus of versailles, might have been put in execution. but it was not to be. vigilant as louis had been in preparation, he now seemed to be as careless or incompetent in execution. not only he neglected the advice of his best general, and wasted time, but he did his best to drive his adversaries to despair and the resistance which comes of despair. they were told by proclamation that "the towns which should try to resist the forces of his majesty by opening the dikes or by any other means would be punished with the utmost rigor; and when the frost should have opened roads in all directions, his majesty would give no sort of quarter to the inhabitants of the said towns, but would give orders that their goods should be plundered and their houses burned." the dutch envoys, headed by de groot, son of the illustrious grotius, came to the king's camp to know on what terms he would make peace. they were refused audience by the theatrical warrior, and told not to return except armed with full powers to make any concessions he might dictate. then the "hucksters" of amsterdam resolved on a deed of daring which is one of the most exalted among "the high traditions of the world." they opened the sluices and submerged the whole country under water. still, their position was almost desperate, as the winter frosts were nearly certain to restore a firm foothold to the invader. they came again suing for peace, offering maestricht, the rhine fortresses, the whole of brabant, the whole of dutch flanders, and an indemnity of ten millions. this was proffering more than henry iv, richelieu, or mazarin had ever hoped for. these terms were refused, and the refusal carried with it practically the rejection of belgium, which could not fail to be soon absorbed when thus surrounded by french possessions. but louis met these offers with the spirit of an attila. he insisted on the concession of southern gueldres and the island of bommel, twenty-four millions of indemnity, the endowment of the catholic religion, and an extraordinary annual embassy charged to present his majesty with a gold medal, which should set forth how the dutch owed to him the conservation of their liberties. such vindictive cruelty makes the mind run forward and dwell with a glow of satisfied justice on the bitter days of retaliation and revenge which in a future, still thirty years off, will humble the proud and pitiless oppressor in the dust; when he shall be a suppliant, and a suppliant in vain, at the feet of the haughty victors of blenheim, ramillies, and oudenarde. but louis' mad career of triumph was gradually being brought to a close. he had before him not only the waste of waters, but the iron will and unconquerable tenacity of the young prince of orange, "who needed neither hope to made him dare nor success to make him persevere." gradually, the threatened neighbors of france gathered together and against her king. charles ii was forced to recede from the french alliance by his parliament in . the military massacre went on, indeed, for some years longer in germany and the netherlands; but the dutch republic was saved, and peace ratified by the treaty of nimwegen. after the conclusion of the dutch war the reign of louis xiv enters on a period of manifest decline. the cost of the war had been tremendous. in the expenditure had been one hundred ten millions, and colbert had to meet this with a net revenue of eighty-one millions. the trade and commerce of the country had also suffered much during the war. with bitter grief the great minister saw himself compelled to reverse the beneficent policy of his earlier days, to add to the tax on salt, to increase the ever-crushing burden of the _taille_, to create new offices--hereditary employments in the government--to the extent of three hundred millions, augmenting the already monstrous army of superfluous officials, and, finally, simply to borrow money at high interest. the new exactions had produced widespread misery in the provinces before the war came to an end. in the governor of dauphiné had written to colbert, saying that commerce had entirely ceased in his district, and that the larger part of the people had lived during the winter on bread made from acorns and roots, and that at the time of his writing they were seen to be eating the grass of the fields and the bark of trees. the long-continued anguish produced at last despair and rebellion. in bordeaux great excesses were committed by the mob, which were punished with severity. six thousand soldiers were quartered in the town, and were guilty of such disorders that the best families emigrated, and trade was ruined for a long period. but brittany witnessed still worse evils. there also riots and disturbances had been produced by the excessive pressure of the imposts. an army of five thousand men was poured into the province, and inflicted such terror on the population that the wretched peasants, at the mere sight of the soldiers, threw themselves on their knees in an attitude of supplication and exclaimed, "_mea culpa_." the lively madame de sévigné gives us some interesting details concerning these events in the intervals when court scandal ran low and the brave doings of madame de montespan suffered a temporary interruption. "would you like," says the tender-hearted lady to her daughter, "would you like to have news of rennes? there are still five thousand soldiers here, as more have come from nantes. a tax of one hundred thousand crowns has been laid upon the citizens, and if the money is not forthcoming in twenty-four hours the tax will be doubled and levied by the soldiers. all the inhabitants of a large street have already been driven out and banished, and no one may receive them under pain of death; so that all these poor wretches, old men, women recently delivered, and children, were seen wandering in tears as they left the town, not knowing whither to go or where to sleep or what to eat. the day before yesterday one of the leaders of the riot was broken alive on the wheel. sixty citizens have been seized, and to-morrow the hanging will begin." in other letters she writes that the tenth man had been broken on the wheel, and she thinks he will be the last, and that by dint of hanging it will soon be left off. such was the emaciated france which louis the great picked systematically to the bone for the next thirty-five years. he had long ceased to be guided by the patriotic wisdom of the great colbert. his evil genius now was the haughty and reckless louvois, who carefully abstained from imitating the noble and daring remonstrances against excessive expenditure which colbert addressed to his master, and through which he lost his influence at court. still, with a self-abnegation really heroic, colbert begged, urged, supplicated the king to reduce his outlay. he represented the misery of the people. "all letters that come from the provinces, whether from the intendants, the receivers-general, and even the bishops, speak of it," he wrote to the king. he insisted on a reduction of the taille by five or six millions; and surely it was time, when its collection gave rise to such scenes as have just been described. it was in vain. the king shut his eyes to mercy and reason. his gigantic war expenditure, when peace came, was only partially reduced. for, indeed, he was still at war, but with nature and self-created difficulties of his own making. he was building versailles: transplanting to its arid sands whole groves of full-grown trees from the depths of distant forests, and erecting the costly and fantastic marvel of marli to afford a supply of water. louis' buildings cost, first and last, a sum which would be represented by about twenty million pounds. the amount squandered on pensions was also very great. the great colbert's days were drawing to a close, and he was very sad. it is related that a friend on one occasion surprised him looking out of a window in his château of sceau, lost in thought and apparently gazing on the well-tilled fields of his own manor. when he came out of his reverie his friend asked him his thoughts. "as i look," he said, "on these fertile fields, i cannot help remembering what i have seen elsewhere. what a rich country is france! if the king's enemies would let him enjoy peace it would be possible to procure the people that relief and comfort which the great henry promised them. i could wish that my projects had a happy issue, that abundance reigned in the kingdom, that everyone were content in it, and that without employment or dignities, far from the court and business, i saw the grass grow in my home farm." the faithful, indefatigable worker was breaking down, losing strength, losing heart, but still struggling on manfully to the last. it was noticed that he sat down to his work with a sorrowful, despondent look, and not, as had been his wont, rubbing his hands with the prospect of toil, and exulting in his almost superhuman capacity for labor. the ingratitude of the king, whom he had served only too well, gave him the final blow. louis, with truculent insolence, reproached him with the "frightful expenses" of versailles. as if they were colbert's fault. colbert, who had always urged the completion of the louvre and the suppression of versailles. at last the foregone giant lay down to die. a tardy touch of feeling induced louis to write him a letter. he would not read it. "i will hear no more about the king," he said; "let him at least allow me to die in peace. my business now is with the king of kings. if," he continued, unconsciously, we may be sure, plagiarizing wolsey, "if i had done for god what i have done for that man, my salvation would be secure ten times over; and now i know not what will become of me." surely a tender and touching evidence of sweetness in the strong man who had been so readily accused of harshness by grasping courtiers. the ignorant ingratitude of the people was even perhaps more melancholy than the wilful ingratitude of the king. the great colbert had to be buried by night, lest his remains should be insulted by the mob. he, whose heart had bled for the people's sore anguish, was rashly supposed to be the cause of that anguish. it was a sad conclusion to a great life. but he would have seen still sadder days if he had lived. the health of the luxurious, self-indulgent louis sensibly declined after he had passed his fortieth year. in spite of his robust appearance he had never been really strong. his loose, lymphatic constitution required much support and management. but he habitually over-ate himself. he was indeed a gross and greedy glutton. "i have often seen the king," says the duchess of orleans, "eat four platefuls of various soups, a whole pheasant, a partridge, a large dish of salad, stewed mutton with garlic, two good slices of ham, a plate of pastry, and then fruit and sweetmeats." a most unwholesome habit of body was the result. an abscess formed in his upper jaw, and caused a perforation of the palate, which obliged him to be very careful in drinking, as the liquid was apt to pass through the aperture and come out by the nostrils. he felt weak and depressed, and began to think seriously about "making his salvation." his courtly priests and confessors had never inculcated any duties but two--that of chastity and that of religious intolerance--and he had been very remiss in both. he now resolved to make hasty reparation. the ample charms of the haughty montespan fascinated him no more. he tried a new mistress, but she did not turn out well. madame de fontanges was young and exquisitely pretty, but a giddy, presuming fool. she moreover died shortly. he was more than ever disposed to make his salvation--that is, to renounce the sins of the flesh, and to persecute his god-fearing subjects, the protestants. the revocation of the edict of nantes, one of the greatest crimes and follies which history records, was too colossal a misdeed for the guilt of its perpetration to be charged upon one man, however wicked or however powerful he may have been. in this case, as in so many others, louis was the exponent of conditions, the visible representative of circumstances which he had done nothing to create. just as he was the strongest king france ever had, without having contributed himself to the predominance of the monarchy, so, in the blind and cruel policy of intolerance which led to the revocation of the edict of nantes, he was the delegate and instrument of forces which existed independently of him. a willing instrument, no doubt; a representative of sinister forces; a chooser of the evil part when mere inaction would have been equivalent to a choice of the good. still, it is due to historic accuracy to point out that, had he not been seconded by the existing condition of france, he would not have been able to effect the evil he ultimately brought about. louis' reign continued thirty years after the revocation of the edict of nantes, years crowded with events, particularly for the military historian, but over the details of which we shall not linger on this occasion. the brilliant reign becomes unbearably wearisome in its final period. the monotonous repetition of the same faults and the same crimes--profligate extravagance, revolting cruelty, and tottering incapacity--is as fatiguing as it is uninstructive. louis became a mere mummy embalmed in etiquette, the puppet of his women and shavelings. the misery in the provinces grew apace, but there was no disturbance: france was too prostrate even to groan. in the expenditure amounted to two hundred forty millions, and the revenue to one hundred thirteen millions; but from this no less than seventy-six millions had to be deducted for various liabilities the government had incurred, leaving only a net income of thirty-seven millions--that is to say, the outlay was more than six times the income. the armies were neither paid nor fed, the officers received "food-tickets" (_billets de subsistance_), which they got cashed at a discount of per cent. the government had anticipated by ten years its revenues from the towns. still, this pale corpse of france must needs be bled anew to gratify the inexorable jesuits, who had again made themselves complete masters of louis xiv's mind. he had lost his confessor, père la chaise (who died in ), and had replaced him by the hideous letellier, a blind and fierce fanatic, with a horrible squint and a countenance fit for the gallows. he would have frightened anyone, says saint-simon, who met him at the corner of a wood. this repulsive personage revived the persecution of the protestants into a fiercer heat than ever, and obtained from the moribund king the edict of march , , considered by competent judges the clear masterpiece of clerical injustice and cruelty. five months later louis xiv died, forsaken by his intriguing wife, his beloved bastard (the due de maine), and his dreaded priest. the french monarchy never recovered from the strain to which it had been subjected during the long and exhausting reign of louis xiv. whether it could have recovered in the hands of a great statesman summoned in time is a curious question. could frederick the great have saved it had he been _par impossible_ louis xiv's successor? we can hardly doubt that he would have adjourned, if not have averted, the great catastrophe of . but it is one of the inseparable accidents of such a despotism as france had fallen under, that nothing but consummate genius can save it from ruin; and the accession of genius to the throne in such circumstances is a physiological impossibility. the house of bourbon had become as effete as the house of valois in the sixteenth century; as effete as the merovingians and carlovingians had become in a previous age; but the strong chain of hereditary right bound up the fortunes of a great empire with the feeble brain and bestial instincts of a louis xv. this was the result of concentrating all the active force of the state in one predestined irremovable human being. this was the logical and necessary outcome of the labors of philip augustus, philip the fair, of louis xi, of henry iv, and richelieu. they had reared the monarchy like a solitary obelisk in the midst of a desert; but it had to stand or fall alone; no one was there to help it, as no one was there to pull it down. this consideration enables us to pass into a higher and more reposing order of reflection, to leave the sterile impeachment of individual incapacity, and rise to the broader question, and ask why and how that incapacity was endowed with such fatal potency for evil. as it has been well remarked, the loss of a battle may lead to the loss of a state; but then, what are the deeper reasons which explain why the loss of a battle should lead to the loss of a state? it is not enough to say that louis xiv was an improvident and passionate ruler, that louis xv was a dreary and revolting voluptuary. the problem is rather this: why were improvidence, passion, and debauchery in two men able to bring down in utter ruin one of the greatest monarchies the world has ever seen? in other words, what was the cause of the consummate failure, the unexampled collapse, of the french monarchy? no personal insufficiency of individual rulers will explain it; and, besides, the french monarchy repeatedly disposed of the services of admirable rulers. history has recorded few more able kings than louis le gros, philip augustus, philip le bel, louis xi, and henry iv; few abler ministers than sully, richelieu, colbert, and turgot. yet the efforts of all these distinguished men resulted in leading the nation straight into the most astounding catastrophe in human annals. whatever view we take of the revolution, whether we regard it as a blessing or as a curse, we must needs admit it was a reaction of the most violent kind--a reaction contrary to the preceding action. the old monarchy can only claim to have produced the revolution in the sense of having provoked it; as intemperance has been known to produce sobriety, and extravagance parsimony. if the _ancien régime_ led in the result to an abrupt transition to the modern era, it was only because it had rendered the old era so utterly execrable to mankind that escape in any direction seemed a relief, were it over a precipice. %new york taken by the english% a.d. john r. brodhead for half a century the dutch colony in new york, then called new netherlands, had developed under various administrations, when british conquest brought it under another dominion. this transfer of the government affected the whole future of the colony and of the great state into which it grew, although the original dutch influence has never disappeared from its character and history. under peter stuyvesant, the last dutch governor ( - ), the colony made great progress. he conciliated the indians, agreed upon a boundary line with the english colonists at hartford, connecticut, and took possession of the colony of new sweden, in delaware. meanwhile the english colonists in different parts of north america were carrying on illicit trade with the dutch at new amsterdam (new york city). the english government, already jealous of the growing commerce of holland, was irritated by the loss of revenue, and resolved in upon the conquest of new netherlands. brodhead, the historian of new york, recounts the steps of this conquest in a manner which brings the rival powers and their agents distinctly before us. england now determined boldly to rob holland of her american province. king charles ii accordingly sealed a patent granting to the duke of york and albany a large territory in america, comprehending long island and the islands in its neighborhood--his title to which lord stirling had released--and all the lands and rivers from the west side of the connecticut river to the east side of delaware bay. this sweeping grant included the whole of new netherlands and a part of the territory of connecticut, which, two years before, charles had confirmed to winthrop and his associates. the duke of york lost no time in giving effect to his patent. as lord high admiral he directed the fleet. four ships, the guinea, of thirty-six guns; the elias, of thirty; the martin, of sixteen; and the william and nicholas, of ten, were detached for service against new netherlands, and about four hundred fifty regular soldiers, with their officers, were embarked. the command of the expedition was intrusted to colonel richard nicolls, a faithful royalist, who had served under turenne with james, and had been made one of the gentlemen of his bedchamber. nicolls was also appointed to be the duke's deputy-governor, after the dutch possessions should have been reduced. with nicolls were associated sir robert carr, colonel george cartwright, and samuel maverick, as royal commissioners to visit the several colonies in new england. these commissioners were furnished with detailed instructions; and the new england governments were required by royal letters to "join and assist them vigorously" in reducing the dutch to subjection. a month after the departure of the squadron the duke of york conveyed to lord berkeley and sir george carteret all the territory between the hudson and delaware rivers, from cape may north to ° ' latitude, and thence to the hudson, in ° latitude, "hereafter to be called by the name or names of nova caesarea or new jersey." intelligence from boston that an english expedition against new netherlands had sailed from portsmouth was soon communicated to stuyvesant by captain thomas willett; and the burgomasters and _schepens_ of new amsterdam were summoned to assist the council with their advice. the capital was ordered to be put in a state of defence, guards to be maintained, and _schippers_ to be warned. as there was very little powder at fort amsterdam a supply was demanded from new amstel, and a loan of five or six thousand guilders was asked from rensselaerswyck. the ships about to sail for curaçao were stopped; agents were sent to purchase provisions at new haven; and as the enemy was expected to approach through long island sound, spies were sent to obtain intelligence at west chester and milford. but at the moment when no precaution should have been relaxed, a despatch from the west india directors, who appear to have been misled by advices from london, announced that no danger need be apprehended from the english expedition, as it was sent out by the king only to settle the affairs of his colonies and establish episcopacy, which would rather benefit the company's interests in new netherlands. willett now retracting his previous statements, a perilous confidence returned. the curaçao ships were allowed to sail; and stuyvesant, yielded to the solicitation of his council, went up the river to look after affairs at fort orange. the english squadron had been ordered to assemble at gardiner's island. but, parting company in a fog, the guinea, with nicolls and cartwright on board, made cape cod, and went on to boston, while the other ships put in at piscataway. the commissioners immediately demanded the assistance of massachusetts, but the people of the bay, who feared, perhaps, that the king's success in reducing the dutch would enable him the better to put down his enemies in new england, were full of excuses. connecticut, however, showed sufficient alacrity; and winthrop was desired to meet the squadron at the west end of long island, whither it would sail with the first fair wind. when the truth of willett's intelligence became confirmed, the council sent an express to recall stuyvesant from fort orange. hurrying back to the capital, the anxious director endeavored to redeem the time which had been lost. the municipal authorities ordered one-third of inhabitants, without exception, to labor every third day at the fortifications; organized a permanent guard; forbade the brewers to malt any grain; and called on the provincial government for artillery and ammunition. six pieces, besides the fourteen previously allotted, and a thousand pounds of powder were accordingly granted to the city. the colonists around fort orange, pleading their own danger from the savages, could afford no help; but the soldiers of esopus were ordered to come down, after leaving a small garrison at ronduit. in the mean time the english squadron had anchored just below the narrows, in nyack bay, between new utrecht and coney island. the mouth of the river was shut up; communication between long island and manhattan, bergen and achter cul, interrupted; several yachts on their way to the south river captured; and the blockhouse on the opposite shore of staten island seized. stuyvesant now despatched counsellor de decker, burgomaster van der grist, and the two domines megapolensis with a letter to the english commanders inquiring why they had come, and why they continued at nyack without giving notice. the next morning, which was saturday, nicolls sent colonel cartwright, captain needham, captain groves, and mr. thomas delavall up to fort amsterdam with a summons for the surrender of "the town situate on the island and commonly known by the name of manhatoes, with all the forts thereunto belonging." this summons was accompanied by a proclamation declaring that all who would submit to his majesty's government should be protected "in his majesty's laws and justice," and peaceably enjoy their property. stuyvesant immediately called together the council and the burgomasters, but would not allow the terms offered by nicolls to be communicated to the people, lest they might insist on capitulating. in a short time several of the burghers and city officers assembled at the stadt-huys. it was determined to prevent the enemy from surprising the town; but, as opinion was generally against protracted resistance, a copy of the english communication was asked from the director. on the following monday the burgomasters explained to a meeting of the citizens the terms offered by nicolls. but this would not suffice; a copy of the paper itself must be exhibited. stuyvesant then went in person to the meeting. "such a course," said he, "would be disapproved of in the fatherland--it would discourage the people." all his efforts, however, were in vain; and the director, protesting that he should not be held answerable for the "calamitous consequences," was obliged to yield to the popular will. nicolls now addressed a letter to winthrop, who with other commissioners from new england had joined the squadron, authorizing him to assure stuyvesant that, if manhattan should be delivered up to the king, "any people from the netherlands may freely come and plant there or thereabouts; and such vessels of their own country may freely come thither, and any of them may as freely return home in vessels of their own country." visiting the city under a flag of truce winthrop delivered this to stuyvesant outside the fort and urged him to surrender. the director declined; and, returning to the fort, he opened nicolls' letter before the council and the burgomasters, who desired that it should be communicated, as "all which regarded the public welfare ought to be made public." against this stuyvesant earnestly remonstrated, and, finding that the burgomasters continued firm, in a fit of passion he "tore the letter in pieces." the citizens, suddenly ceasing their work at the palisades, hurried to the stadt-huys, and sent three of their numbers to the fort to demand the letter. in vain the director hastened to pacify the burghers and urge them to go on with the fortifications. "complaints and curses" were uttered on all sides against the company's misgovernment; resistance was declared to be idle; "the letter! the letter!" was the general cry. to avoid a mutiny stuyvesant yielded, and a copy, made out from the collected fragments, was handed to the burgomasters. in answer, however, to nicolls' summons he submitted a long justification of the dutch title; yet while protesting against any breach of the peace between the king and the states-general, "for the hinderance and prevention of all differences and the spilling of innocent blood, not only in these parts, but also in europe," he offered to treat. "long island is gone and lost;" the capital "cannot hold out long," was the last despatch to the "lord majors" of new netherlands, which its director sent off that night "in silence through hell gate." observing stuyvesant's reluctance to surrender, nicolls directed captain hyde, who commanded the squadron, to reduce the fort. two of the ships accordingly landed their troops just below breuckelen (brooklyn), where volunteers from new england and the long island villages had already encamped. the other two, coming up with full sail, passed in front of fort amsterdam and anchored between it and nutten island. standing on one of the angles of the fortress--an artilleryman with a lighted match at his side--the director watched their approach. at this moment the two domines megapolensis, imploring him not to begin hostilities, led stuyvesant from the rampart, who then, with a hundred of the garrison, went into the city to resist the landing of the english. hoping on against hope, the director now sent counsellor de decker, secretary van ruyven, burgomaster steenwyck, and "schepen" cousseau with a letter to nicolls stating that, as he felt bound "to stand the storm," he desired if possible to arrange on accommodation. but the english commander merely declared, "to-morrow i will speak with you at manhattan." "friends," was the answer, "will be welcome if they come in a friendly manner." "i shall come with ships and soldiers," replied nicolls; "raise the white flag of peace at the fort, and then something may be considered." when this imperious message became known, men, women, and children flocked to the director, beseeching him to submit. his only answer was, "i would rather be carried out dead." the next day the city authorities, the clergymen, and the officers of the burgher guard, assembling at the stadt-huys, at the suggestion of domine megapolensis adopted a remonstrance to the director, exhibiting the hopeless situation of new amsterdam, on all sides "encompassed and hemmed in by enemies," and protesting against any further opposition to the will of god. besides the _schout_, burgomasters, and schepens, the remonstrance was signed by wilmerdonck and eighty-five of the principal inhabitants, among whom was stuyvesant's own son, balthazar. at last the director was obliged to yield. although there were now fifteen hundred souls in new amsterdam, there were not more than two hundred fifty men able to bear arms, besides the one hundred fifty regular soldiers. the people had at length refused to be called out, and the regular troops were already heard talking of "where booty is to be found, and where the young women live who wear gold chains." the city, entirely open along both rivers, was shut on the northern side by a breastwork and palisades, which, though sufficient to keep out the savages, afforded no defence against a military siege. there were scarcely six hundred pounds of serviceable powder in store. a council of war had reported fort amsterdam untenable for though it mounted twenty-four guns, its single wall of earth not more than ten feet high and four thick, was almost touches by the private dwellings clustered around, and was commanded, within a pistol-shot, by hills on the north, over which ran the "heereweg" or broadway. upon the faith of nicolls' promise to deliver back the city and fort "in case the difference of the limits of this province be agreed upon betwixt his majesty of england and the high and mighty states-general," stuyvesant now commissioned counsellor john de decker, captain nicholas varlett, dr. samuel megapolensis, burgomaster cornelius steenwyck, old burgomaster oloff stevenson van cortlandt, and old schepen jacques cousseau to agree upon articles with the english commander or his representatives. nicolls, on his part, appointed sir robert carr and colonel george cartwright, john winthrop, and samuel willys, of connecticut, and thomas clarke and john pynchon, of massachusetts. "the reason why those of boston and connecticut were joined," afterward explained the royal commander, "was because those two colonies should hold themselves the more engaged with us if the dutch had been overconfident of their strength." at eight o'clock the next morning, which was saturday, the commissioners on both sides met at stuyvesant's "bouwery" and arranged the terms of capitulation. the only difference which arose was respecting the dutch soldiers, whom the english refused to convey back to holland. the articles of capitulation promised the dutch security in their property, customs of inheritance, liberty of conscience and church discipline. the municipal officers of manhattan were to continue for the present unchanged, and the town was to be allowed to choose deputies, with "free voices in all public affairs." owners of property in fort orange might, if they pleased, "slight the fortifications there," and enjoy their houses "as people do where there is no fort." for six months there was to be free intercourse with holland. public records were to be respected. the articles, consented to by nicolls, were to be ratified by stuyvesant the next monday morning at eight o'clock, and within two hours afterward, the "fort and town called new amsterdam, upon the isle of manhatoes," were to be delivered up, and the military officers and soldiers were to "march out with their arms, drums beating, and colors flying, and lighted matches." on the following monday morning at eight o'clock stuyvesant, at the head of the garrison, marched out of fort amsterdam with all the honors of war, and led his soldiers down the beaver lane to the water-side, whence they were embarked for holland. an english corporal's guard at the same time took possession of the fort; and nicolls and carr, with their two companies, about a hundred seventy strong, entered the city, while cartwright took possession of the gates and the stadt-huys. the new england and long island volunteers, however, were prudently kept at the breuckelen ferry, as the citizens dreaded most being plundered by them. the english flag was hoisted on fort amsterdam, the name of which was immediately changed to "fort james." nicolls was now proclaimed by the burgomasters deputy-governor for the duke of york, in compliment to whom he directed that the city of new amsterdam should thenceforth be known as "new york." to nicolls' european eye the dutch metropolis, with its earthen fort enclosing a windmill and high flag-staff, a prison and a governor's house, and a double-roofed church, above which loomed a square tower, its gallows and whipping-post at the river's side, and its rows of houses which hugged the citadel, presented but a mean appearance. yet before long he described it to the duke as "the best of all his majesty's towns in america," and assured his royal highness that, with proper management, "within five years the staple of america will be drawn hither, of which the brethren of boston are very sensible." the dutch frontier posts were thought of next. colonel cartwright, with captains thomas willett, john manning, thomas breedon, and daniel brodhead, were sent to fort orange, as soon as possible, with a letter from nicolls requiring la montagne and the magistrates and inhabitants to aid in prosecuting his majesty's interest against all who should oppose a peaceable surrender. at the same time van rensselaer was desired to bring down his patent and papers to the new governor and likewise to observe cartwright's directions. counsellor de decker, however, travelling up to fort george ahead of the english commissioners, endeavored, without avail, to excite the inhabitants to opposition; and his conduct being judged contrary to the spirit of the capitulation which he had signed, he was soon afterward ordered out of nicolls' government. the garrison quietly surrendered, and the name of fort orange was changed to that of "fort albany," after the second title of the duke of york. a treaty was immediately signed between cartwright and the sachems of the iroquois, who were promised the same advantages "as heretofore they had from the dutch"; and the alliance which was thus renewed continued unbroken until the beginning of the american revolution. it only remained to reduce the south river; whither sir robert carr was sent with the guinea, the william and nicholas, and "all the soldiers which are not in the fort." to the dutch he was instructed to promise all their privileges, "only that they change their masters." to the swedes he was to "remonstrate their happy return under a monarchical government." to lord baltimore's officers in maryland he was to say that, their pretended rights being a doubtful case, "possession would be kept until his majesty is informed and satisfied otherwise." a tedious voyage brought the expedition before new amstel. the burghers and planters, "after almost three days' parley," agreed to carr's demands, and ffob oothout with five others signed articles of capitulation which promised large privileges. but the governor and soldiery refusing the english propositions, the fort was stormed and plundered, three of the dutch being killed and ten wounded. in violation of his promises, carr now exhibited the most disgraceful rapacity; appropriated farms to himself, his brother, and captains hyde and morely, stripped bare the inhabitants, and sent the dutch soldiers to be sold as slaves in virginia. to complete the work, a boat was despatched to the city's colony at the horekill, which was seized and plundered of all its effects, and the marauding party even took "what belonged to the quacking society of plockhoy, to a very naile." the reduction of new netherlands was now accomplished. all that could be further done was to change its name; and, to glorify one of the most bigoted princes in english history, the royal province was ordered to be called "new york." ignorant of james' grant of new jersey to berkeley and carteret, nicolls gave to the region west of the hudson the name of "albania," and to long island that of "yorkshire," so as to comprehend all the titles of the duke of york. the flag of england was at length triumphantly displayed, where, for half a century, that of holland had rightfully waved; and from virginia to canada, the king of great britain was acknowledged as sovereign. viewed in all its aspects, the event which gave to the whole of that country a unity in allegiance, and to which a misgoverned people complacently submitted, was as inevitable as it was momentous. but whatever may have been its ultimate consequences, this treacherous and violent seizure of the territory and possessions of an unsuspecting ally was no less a breach of private justice than of public faith. it may, indeed, be affirmed that, among all the acts of selfish perfidy which royal ingratitude conceived and executed, there have been few more characteristic and none more base. %great plague in london% a.d. daniel defoe none of the great visitations of disease that have afflicted europe within historic times has wholly spared england. but from the time of the "black death" ( ) the country experienced no such suffering from any epidemic as that which fell upon london in . that year the "great plague" is said to have destroyed the lives of nearly one hundred thousand people in england's capital. the plague had previously cropped up there every few years, from lack of proper sanitation. at the time of this outbreak the water-supply of the city was notoriously impure. in the heat was uncommonly severe. pepys said that june th of that year was the hottest day that he had ever known. the plague of is said, however, to have been brought in merchandise directly from holland, where it had been smouldering for several years. its ravages in london have often been described, and defoe found in the calamity a subject for a special story on history. probably he was not more than six years old when the plague appeared; but he assumes throughout the pose of a respectable and religious householder of the period. all his own recollections, all the legends of the time, and the parish records are grouped in masterly fashion to form a single picture. the account has been described as a "masterpiece of verisimilitude." in the first place a blazing star or comet appeared for several months before the plague, as there did the year after, a little before the great fire; the old women and the weak-minded portion of the other sex, whom i could almost call old women too, remarked--especially afterward, though not till both those judgments were over--that those two comets passed directly over the city, and that so very near the houses that it was plain they imported something peculiar to the city alone; that the comet before the pestilence was of a faint, dull, languid color, and its motion very heavy, solemn, and slow; but that the comet before the fire was bright and sparkling, or, as others said, flaming, and its motion swift and furious; and that, accordingly, one foretold a heavy judgment, slow, but severe, terrible, and frightful, as the plague was; but the other foretold a stroke, sudden, swift, and fiery, like the conflagration. nay, so particular some people were that, as they looked upon that comet preceding the fire, they fancied that they not only saw it pass swiftly and fiercely, and could perceive the motion with the eye, but they even heard it; that it made a rushing, mighty noise, fierce and terrible, though at a distance and but just perceivable. i saw both these stars, and i must confess, had so much of the common notion of such things in my head that i was apt to look upon them as the forerunners and warnings of god's judgments; and especially, when after the plague had followed the first, i yet saw another of the like kind, i could not but say, god had not yet sufficiently scourged the city. but i could not at the same time carry these things to the height that others did, knowing, too, that natural causes are assigned by the astronomers for such things; and that their motions, and even their evolutions, are calculated, or pretended to be calculated; so that they cannot be so perfectly called the forerunners or foretellers, much less the procurers of such events as pestilence, war, fire, and the like. but let my thoughts, and the thoughts of the philosophers, be or have been what they will, these things had a more than ordinary influence upon the minds of the common people, and they had, almost universally, melancholy apprehensions of some dreadful calamity and judgment coming upon the city; and this principally from the sight of this comet, and the little alarm that was given in december by two people dying in st. giles. the apprehensions of the people were likewise strangely increased by the error of the times; in which, i think the people, from what principles i cannot imagine, were more addicted to prophecies, and astrological conjurations, dreams, and old wives' tales, than ever they were before or since. whether this unhappy temper was originally raised by the follies of some people who got money by it--that is to say, by printing predictions and prognostications--i know not; but certain it is books frightened them terribly; such as _lilly's almanack, gadbury's allogical predictions, poor robin's almanack_, and the like; also several pretended religious books--one entitled _come out of her, my people, lest you be partaker of her plagues_; another, called _fair warning_; another, _britain's remembrancer_; and many such, all or most part of which foretold directly or covertly the ruin of the city: nay, some were so enthusiastically bold as to run about the streets with their oral predictions, pretending they were sent to preach to the city; and one in particular, who like jonah to nineveh, cried in the streets, "yet forty days, and london shall be destroyed." i will not be positive whether he said "yet forty days" or "yet a few days." another ran about naked, except a pair of drawers about his waist, crying day and night. as a man that josephus mentions, who cried, "woe to jerusalem!" a little before the destruction of that city, so this poor naked creature cried, "o the great and the dreadful god!" and said no more, but repeated these words continually, with a voice and countenance full of horror, a swift pace; and nobody could ever find him to stop or rest or take any sustenance, at least that ever i could hear of. i met this poor creature several times in the streets, and would have spoken to him, but he would not enter into conversation with me, or anyone else, but held on his dismal cries continually. these things terrified the people to the last degree; and especially when two or three times, as i have mentioned already, they found one or two in the bills dead of the plague at st. giles. the justices of peace for middlesex, by direction of the secretary of state, had begun to shut up houses in the parishes of st. giles-in-the-fields, st. martin's, st. clement danes, etc., and it was with good success; for in several streets where the plague broke out, after strictly guarding the houses that were infected, and taking care to bury those that died immediately after they were known to be dead, the plague ceased in those streets. it was also observed that the plague decreased sooner in those parishes, after they had been visited in detail, than it did in the parishes of bishopsgate, shoreditch, aldgate, whitechapel, stepney, and others; the early care taken in that manner being a great check to it. this shutting up of houses was a method first taken, as i understand, in the plague which happened in , on the accession of king james i to the crown; and the power of shutting people up in their own houses was granted by an act of parliament entitled "an act for the charitable relief and ordering of persons infected with the plague." on which act of parliament the lord mayor and aldermen of the city of london founded the order they made at this time, viz., june, ; when the numbers infected within the city were but few, the last bill for the ninety-two parishes being but four. by these means, when there died about one thousand a week in the whole, the number in the city was but twenty-eight; and the city was more healthy in proportion than any other place all the time of the infection. these orders of my lord mayor were published, as i have said, toward the end of june. they came into operation from july ist, and were as follows: "_orders conceived and published by the lord mayor and aldermen of the city of london, concerning the infection of the plague_, . "whereas, in the reign of our late sovereign, king james, of happy memory, an act was made for the charitable relief and ordering of persons infected with the plague; whereby authority was given to justices of the peace, mayors, bailiffs, and other head officers, to appoint within their several limits, examiners, searchers, watchmen, surgeons, and nurse-keepers, and buriers, for the persons and places infected, and to minister unto them oaths for the performance of their offices. and the same statute did also authorize the giving of other directions, as unto them for the present necessity should seem good in their discretions. it is now upon special consideration thought very expedient for preventing and avoiding of infection of sickness (if it shall so please almighty god) that these officers be appointed, and these orders hereafter duly observed." then follow the orders giving these officers instructions in detail and prescribing the extent and limits of their several duties. next, "_orders concerning infected houses and persons sick of the plague._" these had reference to the "notice to be given of the sickness," "sequestration of the sick," "airing the stuff," "shutting up of the house," "burial of the dead," "forbidding infected stuff to be sold, and of persons leaving infected houses," "marking of infected houses," and "regulating hackney coaches that have been used to convey infected persons." lastly there followed "_orders for cleansing and keeping the streets and houses sweet_" and "_orders concerning loose persons and idle assemblies_" such as "beggars," "plays," "feasts," and "tippling-houses." "(signed) sir john lawrence, _lord mayor_. sir george waterman, sir charles doe, _sheriffs_." i need not say that these orders extended only to such places as were within the lord mayor's jurisdiction; so it is requisite to observe that the justices of the peace, within those parishes, and those places called the hamlets and out-parts, took the same method: as i remember, the orders for shutting up of houses did not take place so soon on our side, because, as i said before, the plague did not reach the eastern parts of the town, at least not begin to be very violent, till the beginning of august. now, indeed, it was coming on amain; for the burials that same week were in the next adjoining parishes thus: the next week to the prodigiously st of increased, as aug. thus st. leonard's, shoreditch ... st. botolph, bishopsgate .... st. giles, cripplegate....... --- --- --- the shutting up of houses was at first considered a very cruel and unchristian thing, and the poor people so confined made bitter lamentations; complaints were also daily brought to my lord mayor, of houses causelessly--and some maliciously--shut up. i cannot say, but, upon inquiry, many that complained so loudly were found in a condition to be continued; and others again, inspection being made upon the sick person, on his being content to be carried to the pesthouse, were released. indeed, many people perished in these miserable confinements, which it is reasonable to believe would not have been distempered if they had had liberty, though the plague was in the house; at which the people were at first very clamorous and uneasy, and several acts of violence were committed on the men who were set to watch the houses so shut up; also several people broke out by force, in many places, as i shall observe by and by; still it was a public good that justified the private mischief; and there was no obtaining the least mitigation by any application to magistrates. this put the people upon all manner of stratagems, in order, if possible, to get out; and it would fill a little volume to set down the arts used by the people of such houses to shut the eyes of the watchmen who were employed, to deceive them, and to escape or break out from them. a few incidents on this head may prove not uninteresting. as i went along houndsditch one morning, about eight o'clock, there was a great noise; it is true, indeed, there was not much crowd, because people were not very free to gather or to stay long together; but the outcry was loud enough to prompt my curiosity, and i called to one that looked out of a window, and asked what was the matter. a watchman, it seems, had been employed to keep his post at the door of a house which was infected, or said to be infected, and was shut up; he had been there all night for two nights together, as he told his story, and the day watchman had been there one day, and had now come to relieve him; all this while no noise had been heard in the house, no light had been seen; they called for nothing, sent him no errands, which was the chief business of the watchman; neither had they given him any disturbance, as he said, from the monday afternoon, when he heard great crying and screaming in the house, which, as he supposed, was occasioned by some of the family dying just at that time. it seems the night before, the dead-cart, as it was called, had been stopped there, and a servant-maid had been brought down to the door dead, and the buriers or bearers, as they were called, put her into the cart, wrapped only in a green rug, and carried her away. the watchman had knocked at the door, it seems, when he heard that noise and crying, as above, and nobody answered a great while; but at last one looked out, and said, with an angry, quick tone, "what do ye want, that ye make such a knocking?" he answered: "i am the watchman! how do you do? what is the matter?" the person answered: "what is that to you? stop the dead-cart." this, it seems, was about one o'clock; soon after, as the fellow said, he stopped the dead-cart, and then knocked again, but nobody answered: he continued knocking, and the bellman called out several times, "bring out your dead!" but nobody answered, till the man that drove the cart, being called to other houses, would stay no longer, and drove away. the watchman knew not what to make of all this, so he let them alone till the day watchman came to relieve him, giving him an account of the particulars. they knocked at the door a great while, but nobody answered; and they observed that the window or casement at which the person had looked out continued open, being up two pair of stairs. upon this the two men, to satisfy their curiosity, got a long ladder, and one of them went up to the window and looked into the room, where he saw a woman lying dead upon the floor in a dismal manner, having no clothes on her but her shift. although he called aloud, and knocked hard on the floor with his long staff, yet nobody stirred or answered; neither could he hear any noise in the house. upon this he came down again and acquainted his fellow, who went up also, and, finding the case as above, they resolved either to acquaint the lord mayor or some other magistrate with it. the magistrate, it seems, upon the information of the two men, ordered the house to be broken open, a constable and other persons being appointed to be present, that nothing might be plundered; and accordingly it was so done, when nobody was found in the house but that young woman, who, having been infected, and past recovery, the rest had left her to die by herself. everyone was gone, having found some way to delude the watchman and to get open the door or get out at some back door or over the tops of the houses, so that he knew nothing of it; and as to those cries and shrieks which the watchman had heard, it was supposed they were the passionate cries of the family at the bitter parting, which, to be sure, it was to them all, this being the sister to the mistress of the house. many such escapes were made out of infected houses, as particularly when the watchman was sent some errand, that is to say, for necessaries, such as food and physic, to fetch physicians if they would come, or surgeons, or nurses, or to order the dead-cart, and the like. now, when he went it was his duty to lock up the outer door of the house and take the key away with him; but to evade this and cheat the watchman, people got two or three keys made to their locks, or they found means to unscrew the locks, open the door, and go out as they pleased. this way of escape being found out, the officers afterward had orders to padlock up the doors on the outside and place bolts on them, as they thought fit. at another house, as i was informed, in the street near aldgate, a whole family was shut up and locked in because the maidservant was ill: the master of the house had complained, by his friends, to the next alderman and to the lord mayor, and had consented to have the maid carried to the pesthouse, but was refused, so the door was marked with a red cross, a padlock on the outside, as above, and a watchman set to keep the door according to public order. after the master of the house found there was no remedy, but that he, his wife, and his children were to be locked up with this poor distempered servant, he called to the watchman and told him he must go then and fetch a nurse for them to attend this poor girl, for that it would be certain death to them all to oblige them to nurse her; and that if he would not do this the maid must perish, either of the distemper, or be starved for want of food, for he was resolved none of his family should go near her, and she lay in the garret, four-story high, where she could not cry out or call to anybody for help. the watchman went and fetched a nurse as he was appointed, and brought her to them the same evening; during this interval the master of the house took the opportunity of breaking a large hole through his shop into a stall where formerly a cobbler had sat, before or under his shop window, but the tenant, as may be supposed, at such a dismal time as that, was dead or removed, and so he had the key in his own keeping. having made his way into this stall, which he could not have done if the man had been at the door--the noise he was obliged to make being such as would have alarmed the watchman--i say, having made his way into this stall, he sat still till the watchman returned with the nurse, and all the next day also. but the night following, having contrived to send the watchman another trifling errand, he conveyed himself and all his family out of the house, and left the nurse and the watchman to bury the poor woman, that is, to throw her into the cart and take care of the house. i could give a great many such stories as these which in the long course of that dismal year i met with, that is, heard of, and which are very certain to be true or very near the truth; that is to say, true in general, for no man could at such a time learn all the particulars. there was, likewise, violence used with the watchmen, as was reported, in abundance of places; and i believe that, from the beginning of the visitation to the end, not less than eighteen or twenty of them were killed or so severely wounded as to be taken up for dead; which was supposed to have been done by the people in the infected houses which were shut up, and where they attempted to come out and were opposed. for example, not far from coleman street they blowed up a watchman with gunpowder, and burned the poor fellow dreadfully; and while he made hideous cries, and nobody would venture to come near to help him, the whole family that were able to stir got out at the windows one story high, two that were left sick calling out for help. care was taken to give the latter nurses to look after them, but the fugitives were not found till after the plague abated, when they returned; but as nothing could be proved, so nothing could be done to them. it is to be considered, too, that as these were prisons without bars or bolts, which our common prisons are furnished with, so the people let themselves down out of their windows, even in the face of the watchman, bringing swords or pistols in their hands, and threatening to shoot the poor wretch if he stirred or called for help. in other cases some had gardens and walls or palings between them and their neighbors; or yards and back houses; and these, by friendship and entreaties, would get leave to get over those walls or palings, and so go out at their neighbors' doors, or, by giving money to their servants, get them to let them through in the night; so that, in short, the shutting up of houses was in no wise to be depended upon. neither did it answer the end at all; serving more to make the people desperate and drive them to violent extremities in their attempts to break out. but what was still worse, those that did thus break out spread the infection by wandering about with the distemper upon them; and many that did so were driven to dreadful exigencies and extremities and perished in the streets or fields or dropped down with the raging violence of the fever upon them. others wandered into the country and went forward any way as their desperation guided them, not knowing whither they went or would go, till faint and tired; the houses and villages on the road refusing to admit them to lodge, whether infected or no, they perished by the roadside. on the other hand, when the plague at first seized a family, that is to say, when any one of the family had gone out and unwarily or otherwise caught the distemper and brought it home, it was certainly known by the family before it was known to the officers who were appointed to examine into the circumstances of all sick persons when they heard of their being sick. i remember--and while i am writing this story i think i hear the very shrieks--a certain lady had an only daughter, a young maiden about nineteen years old and who was possessed of a very considerable fortune. the young woman, her mother, and the maid had been out for some purpose, for the house was not shut up; but about two hours after they came home the young lady complained she was not well; in a quarter of an hour more she vomited and had a violent pain in her head. "pray god," says her mother, in a terrible fright, "my child has not the distemper!" the pain in her head increasing, her mother ordered the bed to be warmed, and resolved to put her to bed, and prepared to give her things to sweat, which was the ordinary remedy to be taken when the first apprehensions of the distemper began. while the bed was being aired, the mother undressed the young woman, and, on looking over her body with a candle, immediately discovered the fatal tokens. her mother, not being able to contain herself, threw down her candle and screeched out in such a frightful manner that it was enough to bring horror upon the stoutest heart in the world. overcome by fright, she first fainted, then recovered, then ran all over the house, up the stairs and down the stairs, like one distracted. thus she continued screeching and crying out for several hours, void of all sense, or at least government of her senses, and, as i was told, never came thoroughly to herself again. as to the young maiden, she was dead from that moment; for the gangrene which occasions the spots had spread over her whole body, and she died in less than two hours: but still the mother continued crying out, not knowing anything more of her child, several hours after she was dead. i went all the first part of the time freely about the streets, though not so freely as to run myself into apparent danger, except when they dug the great pit in the church-yard of our parish of aldgate. a terrible pit it was, and i could not resist the curiosity to go and see it. so far as i could judge, it was about forty feet in length and about fifteen or sixteen feet broad, and, at the time i first looked at it, about nine feet deep; but it was said they dug it nearly twenty feet deep afterward, when they could go no deeper, for the water. they had dug several pits in another ground when the distemper began to spread in our parish, and especially when the dead-carts began to go about, which in our parish was not till the beginning of august. into these pits they had put perhaps fifty or sixty bodies each; then they made larger holes, wherein they buried all that the cart brought in a week, which, by the middle to the end of august, came to from two hundred to four hundred a week. they could not dig them larger, because of the order of the magistrates confining them to leave no bodies within six feet of the surface. besides, the water coming on at about seventeen or eighteen feet, they could not well put more in one pit. but now at the beginning of september, the plague being at its height, and the number of burials in our parish increasing to more than were ever buried in any parish about london of no larger extent, they ordered this dreadful gulf to be dug, for such it was, rather than a pit. they had supposed this pit would have supplied them for a month or more when they dug it, and some blamed the churchwardens for suffering such a frightful thing, telling them they were making preparations to bury the whole parish, and the like; but time made it appear the church-wardens knew the condition of the parish better than they did; for the pit being finished september th, i think they began to bury in it on the th, and by the th, which was just two weeks, they had thrown into it one thousand one hundred fourteen bodies, when they were obliged to fill it up, the bodies being within six feet of the surface. it was about september th that my curiosity led or rather drove me to go and see this pit again, when there had been about four hundred people buried in it; and i was not content to see it in the daytime, as i had done before, for then there would have been nothing to see but the loose earth; for all the bodies that were thrown in were immediately covered with earth by those they called the buriers, but i resolved to go in the night and see some of the bodies thrown in. there was a strict order against people coming to those pits, and that was only to prevent infection; but after some time that order was more necessary, for people that were infected and near their end, and delirious also, would run to those pits, wrapped in blankets or rags, and throw themselves in and bury themselves. i got admittance into the church-yard by being acquainted with the sexton, who, though he did not refuse me at all, yet earnestly persuaded me not to go, telling me very seriously--for he was a good and sensible man--that it was indeed their business and duty to run all hazards, and that in so doing they might hope to be preserved; but that i had no apparent call except my own curiosity, which he said he believed i would not pretend was sufficient to justify my exposing myself to infection. i told him "i had been pressed in my mind to go, and that perhaps it might be an instructing sight that might not be without its uses." "nay," says the good man, "if you will venture on that score, i' name of god go in; for depend upon it, 'twill be a sermon to you; it may be the best that you ever heard in your life. it is a speaking sight," says he, "and has a voice with it, and a loud one, to call us to repentance;" and with that he opened the door and said, "go, if you will." his words had shocked my resolution a little and i stood wavering for a good while; but just at that interval i saw two links come over from the end of the minories, and heard the bellman, and then appeared a dead-cart, so i could no longer resist my desire, and went in. there was nobody that i could perceive at first in the church-yard or going into it but the buriers and the fellow that drove the cart or rather led the horse and cart; but when they came up to the pit they saw a man going to and fro muffled up in a brown cloak and making motions with his hands under his cloak, as if he was in a great agony, and the buriers immediately gathered about him, supposing he was one of those poor delirious or desperate creatures that used to bury themselves. he said nothing as he walked about, but two or three times groaned very deeply and loud, and sighed as he would break his heart. when the buriers came up to him they soon found he was neither a person infected and desperate, as i have observed above, nor a person distempered in mind, but one oppressed with a dreadful weight of grief, indeed, having his wife and several of his children in the cart that had just come in, and he followed it in an agony and excess of sorrow. he mourned heartily, as it was easy to see, but with a kind of masculine grief that could not give itself vent in tears, and, calmly desiring the buriers to let him alone, said he would only see the bodies thrown in and go away; so they left importuning him. but no sooner was the cart turned round and the bodies shot into the pit promiscuously, which was a surprise to him, for he at least expected they would have been decently laid in, though indeed he was afterward convinced that was impracticable--i say, no sooner did he see the sight but he cried out aloud, unable to contain himself. i could not hear what he said, but he went backward and forward two or three times and fell down in a swoon. the buriers ran to him and took him up, and in a little while he came to himself, and they led him away to the pye tavern, over against the end of houndsditch, where it seems the man was known and where they took care of him. he looked into the pit again as he went away, but the buriers had covered the bodies so immediately with throwing in the earth that, though there was light enough, for there were lanterns and candles placed all night round the sides of the pit, yet nothing could be seen. this was a mournful scene, indeed, and affected me almost as much as the rest, but the other was awful and full of terror. the cart had in it sixteen or seventeen bodies; some were wrapped up in linen sheets, some in rugs, some all but naked or so loose that what covering they had fell from them in being shot out of the cart, for coffins were not to be had for the prodigious numbers that fell in such a calamity as his. it was reported, by way of scandal upon the buriers, that if any corpse was delivered to them decently wrapped in a winding-sheet, the buriers were so wicked as to strip them in the cart and carry them quite naked to the ground; but as i cannot easily credit anything so vile among christians, and at a time so filled with terrors as that was, i can only relate it and leave it undetermined. i was indeed shocked at the whole sight; it almost overwhelmed me, and i went away with my heart full of the most afflicting thoughts, such as i cannot describe. just at my going out at the church-yard and turning up the street toward my own house i saw another cart with links and a bellman going before, coming out of harrow alley, in the butcher row, on the other side of the way, and being, as i perceived, very full of dead bodies, it went directly toward the church; i stood awhile, but i had no desire to go back again to see the same dismal scene over again, so i went directly home, where i could not but consider, with thankfulness, the risk i had run. here the poor unhappy gentleman's grief came into my head again, and, indeed, i could not but shed tears in reflecting upon it, perhaps more than he did himself; but his case lay so heavy upon my mind that i could not constrain myself from going again to the pye tavern, resolving to inquire what became of him. it was by this time one o'clock in the morning and the poor gentleman was still there; the truth was the people of the house, knowing him, had kept him there all the night, notwithstanding the danger of being infected by him, though it appeared the man was perfectly sound himself. it is with regret that i take notice of this tavern: the people were civil, mannerly, and obliging enough, and had till this time kept their house open and their trade going on, though not so very publicly as formerly; but a dreadful set of fellows frequented their house, who, in the midst of all this horror, met there every night, behaved with all the revelling and roaring extravagances as are usual for such people to do at other times, and, indeed, to such an offensive degree that the very master and mistress of the house grew first ashamed and then terrified at them. they sat generally in a room next the street, and, as they always kept late hours, so when the dead-cart came across the street end to go into houndsditch, which was in view of the tavern windows, they would frequently open the windows as soon as they heard the bell, and look out at them; and as they might often hear sad lamentations of people in the streets or at their windows as the carts went along, they would make their impudent mocks and jeers at them, especially if they heard the poor people call upon god to have mercy upon them, as many would do at those times in passing along the streets. these gentlemen, being something disturbed with the clatter of bringing the poor gentleman into the house, as above, were first angry and very high with the master of the house for suffering such a fellow, as they called him, to be brought out of the grave into their house; but being answered that the man was a neighbor, and that he was sound, but overwhelmed with the calamity of his family, and the like, they turned their anger into ridiculing the man and his sorrow for his wife and children; taunting him with want of courage to leap into the great pit and go to heaven, as they jeeringly expressed it, along with them; adding some profane and blasphemous expressions. they were at this vile work when i came back to the house, and as far as i could see, though the man sat still, mute and disconsolate, and their affronts could not divert his sorrow, yet he was both grieved and offended at their words: upon this, i gently reproved them, being well enough acquainted with their characters, and not unknown in person to two of them. they immediately fell upon me with ill language and oaths: asked me what i did out of my grave at such a time when so many honester men were carried into the church-yard? and why i was not at home saying my prayers till the dead-cart came for me? i was indeed astonished at the impudence of the men, though not at all discomposed at their treatment of me. however, i kept my temper. i told them that though i defied them or any man in the world to tax me with any dishonesty, yet i acknowledged that in this terrible judgment of god many a better than i was swept away and carried to his grave. but to answer their question directly, it was true that i was mercifully preserved by that great god whose name they had blasphemed and taken in vain by cursing and swearing in a dreadful manner; and that i believed i was preserved in particular, among other ends of his goodness, that i might reprove them for their audacious boldness in behaving in such a manner and in such an awful time as this was; especially for their jeering and mocking at an honest gentleman and a neighbor who they saw was overwhelmed with sorrow for the sufferings with which it had pleased god to afflict his family. they received all reproof with the utmost contempt and made the greatest mockery that was possible for them to do at me, giving me all the opprobrious, insolent scoffs that they could think of for preaching to them, as they called it, which, indeed, grieved me rather than angered me. i went away, however, blessing god in my mind that i had not spared them though they had insulted me so much. they continued this wretched course three or four days after this, continually mocking and jeering at all that showed themselves religious or serious, or that were any way us; and i was informed they flouted in the same manner at the good people who, notwithstanding the contagion, met at the church, fasted, and prayed god to remove his hand from them. i say, they continued this dreadful course three or four days--i think it was no more--when one of them, particularly he who asked the poor gentleman what he did out of his grave, was struck with the plague and died in a most deplorable manner; and in a word, they were every one of them carried into the great pit which i have mentioned above, before it was quite filled up, which was not above a fortnight or thereabout. %great fire in london% a.d. john evelyn in the reign of charles ii--the "merry monarch," of whom one of his ministers observed that "he never said a foolish thing and never did a wise one"--the calamities which happened eclipsed the merriment of his people, if not that of the sovereign himself. in england had not fully recovered from the civil wars of - . she was now at war with the allied dutch and french, and was suffering from the terrible effects of the "great plague" which ravaged london in . during september - , , occurred a catastrophe of almost equal horror. a fire, which broke out in a baker's house near the bridge, spread on all sides so rapidly that the people were unable to extinguish it until two-thirds of the city had been destroyed. evelyn's account, from his famous _diary_, is that of an eye-witness who took a prominent part in dealing with the conflagration, during which the inhabitants of london--like those of some of our cities in recent times--"were reduced to be spectators of their own ruin." besides suspecting the french and dutch of having landed and, as evelyn records, of "firing the town," people assigned various other possible origins for the disaster, charging it upon the republicans, the catholics, etc. it was obviously due, as hume thought it worth while to note, to the narrow streets, the houses built entirely of wood, the dry season, and a strong east wind. "but the fire," says a later writer, "though destroying so much, was most beneficial in thoroughly eradicating the plague. the fever dens in which it continually lurked were burned, and the new houses which were erected were far more healthy and better arranged." in the year of our lord . d sept. this fatal night, about ten, began that deplorable fire near fish street, in london. . the fire continuing, after dinner i took coach with my wife and son, and went to the bankside in southwark, where we beheld that dismal spectacle, the whole city in dreadful flames near the water-side; all the houses from the bridge, all thames street, and upward toward cheapside, down to the three cranes, were now consumed. the fire having continued all this night--if i may call that night which was as light as day for ten miles round about, after a dreadful manner--when conspiring with a fierce eastern wind in a very dry season; i went on foot to the same place, and saw the whole south part of the city burning from cheapside to the thames, and all along cornhill--for it kindled back against the wind as well as forward--tower street, fenchurch street, gracechurch street, and so along to bainard's castle, and was now taking hold of st. paul's church, to which the scaffolds contributed exceedingly. the conflagration was so universal, and the people so astonished, that from the beginning, i know not by what despondency or fate, they hardly stirred to quench it; so that there was nothing heard or seen but crying out and lamentation, running about like distracted creatures, without at all attempting to save even their goods; such a strange consternation there was upon them, so as it burned both in breadth and length, the churches, public halls, exchange, hospitals, monuments, and ornaments, leaping after a prodigious manner from house to house, and street to street, at great distances one from the other; for the heat, with a long set of fair and warm weather, had even ignited the air and prepared the materials to conceive the fire, which devoured, after an incredible manner, houses, furniture, and everything. here we saw the thames covered with goods floating, all the barges and boats laden with what some had time and courage to save, as, on the other, the carts, etc., carrying out to the fields, which for many miles were strewed with movables of all sorts, and tents erecting to shelter both people and what goods they could get away. oh, the miserable and calamitous spectacle! such as haply the world had not seen the like since the foundation of it, nor be outdone till the universal conflagration. all the sky was of a fiery aspect, like the top of a burning oven, the light seen above forty miles round about for many nights. god grant my eyes may never behold the like, now seeing above ten thousand houses all in one flame; the noise, and cracking, and thunder of the impetuous flames, the shrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, the fall of towers, houses, and churches was like a hideous storm, and the air all about so hot and inflamed that at last one was not able to approach it; so that they were forced to stand still and let the flames burn on, which they did for near two miles in length and one in breadth. the clouds of smoke were dismal, and reached, upon computation, near fifty miles in length. thus i left it this afternoon burning, a resemblance of sodom or the last day. london was, but is no more! . the burning still rages, and it has now gotten as far as the inner temple, all fleet street, the old bailey, ludgate hill, warwick lane, newgate, paul's chain, watling street, now flaming, and most of it reduced to ashes; the stones of st. paul's flew like granados, the melting lead running down the streets in a stream, and the very pavements glowing with fiery redness, so as no horse nor man was able to tread on them, and the demolition had stopped all the passages, so that no help could be applied. the eastern wind still more impetuously drove the flames forward. nothing but the almighty power of god was able to stop them, for vain was the help of man. . it crossed toward whitehall; oh, the confusion there was then at that court! it pleased his majesty to command me among the rest to look after the quenching of fetter lane, and to preserve, if possible, that part of holborn, while the rest of the gentlemen took their several posts--for now they began to bestir themselves, and not till now, who hitherto had stood as men intoxicated, with their hands across--and began to consider that nothing was likely to put a stop, but the blowing up of so many houses might make a wider gap than any had yet been made by the ordinary method of pulling them down with engines; this some stout seamen proposed early enough to have saved nearly the whole city, but this some tenacious and avaricious men, aldermen, etc., would not permit, because their houses must have been of the first. it was therefore now commanded to be practised, and my concern being particularly for the hospital of st. bartholomew, near smithfield, where i had many wounded and sick men, made me the more diligent to promote it, nor was my care for the savoy less. it now pleased god, by abating the wind, and by the industry of the people, infusing a new spirit into them, and the fury of it began sensibly to abate about noon, so as it came no further than the temple westward, nor than the entrance of smithfield north; but continued all this day and night so impetuous toward cripplegate and the tower, as made us all despair. it also broke out again in the temple, but the courage of the multitude persisting, and many houses being blown up, such gaps and desolations were soon made, as with the former three-days' consumption, the back fire did not so vehemently urge upon the rest as formerly. there was yet no standing near the burning and glowing ruins by near a furlong's space. the coal and wood wharfs, and magazines of oil, resin, etc., did infinite mischief, so as the invective which a little before i had dedicated to his majesty and published, giving warning what might probably be the issue of suffering those shops to be in the city, was looked on as a prophecy. the poor inhabitants were dispersed about st. george's fields and moorfields, as far as highgate, and several miles in circle, some under tents, some under miserable huts and hovels, many without a rag, or any necessary utensils, bed, or board; who, from delicateness, riches, and easy accommodations in stately and well-furnished houses, were now reduced to extremest misery and poverty. in this calamitous condition i returned with a sad heart to my house, blessing and adoring the mercy of god to me and mine, who in the midst of all this ruin was like lot, in my little zoar, safe and sound. . i went this morning on foot from whitehall as far as london bridge, through the late fleet street, ludgate hill, by st. paul's, cheapside, exchange, bishopsgate, aldersgate, and out to moorfields, thence through cornhill, etc., with extraordinary difficulty clambering over heaps of yet smoking rubbish, and frequently mistaking where i was. the ground under my feet was so hot that it even burned the soles of my shoes. in the mean time his majesty got to the tower by water, to demolish the houses about the graff, which, being built entirely about it, had they taken fire, and attacked the white tower, where the magazine of powder lay, would undoubtedly not only have beaten down and destroyed all the bridge, but sunk and torn the vessels in the river, and rendered the demolition beyond all expression for several miles about the country. at my return i was infinitely concerned to find that goodly church, st. paul's, now a sad ruin, and that beautiful portico--or structure comparable to any in europe, as not long before repaired by the king--now rent in pieces, flakes of vast stones split asunder, and nothing remaining entire but the inscription in the architrave, showing by whom it was built, which had not one letter of it defaced. it was astonishing to see what immense stones the heat had in a manner calcined, so that all the ornaments, columns, friezes, and projectures of massy portland stone flew off, even to the very roof, where a sheet of lead covering a great space was totally melted; the ruins of the vaulted roof falling broke into st. faith's, which being filled with the magazines of books belonging to the stationers, and carried thither for safety, they were all consumed, burning for a week following. it is also observable that the lead over the altar at the east end was untouched, and among the divers monuments the body of one bishop remained entire. thus lay in ashes that most venerable church, one of the most ancient pieces of early piety in the christian world, besides near one hundred more. the lead, ironwork, bells, plate, etc., melted; the exquisitely wrought mercer's chapel, the sumptuous exchange, the august fabric of christ church, all the rest of the companies' halls, sumptuous buildings, arches, all in dust; the fountains dried up and ruined, while the very waters remained boiling; the _voragoes_ of subterranean cellars, wells, and dungeons, formerly warehouses, still burning in stench and dark clouds of smoke, so that in five or six miles traversing about i did not see one load of timber consume, nor many stones but what were calcined white as snow. the people who now walked about the ruins appeared like men in a dismal desert, or rather in some great city laid waste by a cruel enemy: to which was added the stench that came from some poor creatures' bodies, beds, etc. sir thomas gresham's statue, though fallen from its niche in the royal exchange, remained entire, when all those of the kings since the conquest were broken to pieces; also the standard in cornhill, and queen elizabeth's effigies, with some arms on ludgate, continued with but little detriment, while the vast iron chains of the city streets, hinges, bars, and gates of prisons, were many of them melted and reduced to cinders by the vehement heat. i was not able to pass through any of the narrow streets, but kept the widest; the ground and air, smoke and fiery vapor, continued so intense that my hair was almost singed and my feet insufferably surheated. the by-lanes and narrower streets were quite filled up with rubbish, nor could one have known where he was but by the ruins of some church or hall that had some remarkable tower or pinnacle remaining. i then went toward islington and highgate, where one might have seen two hundred thousand people of all ranks and degrees, dispersed and lying along by their heaps of what they could save from the fire, deploring their loss, and, though ready to perish for hunger and destitution, yet not asking one penny for relief, which to me appeared a stranger sight than any i had yet beheld. his majesty and council, indeed, took all imaginable care for their relief, by proclamation for the country to come in and refresh them with provisions. in the midst of all this calamity and confusion there was, i know not how, an alarm begun that the french and dutch, with whom we are now in hostility, were not only landed, but even entering the city. there was in truth some days before great suspicion of these two nations joining; and now, that they had been the occasion of firing the town. this report did so terrify that on a sudden there was such an uproar and tumult that they ran from their goods, and, taking what weapons they could come at, they could not be stopped from falling on some of those nations whom they casually met, without sense or reason. the clamor and peril grew so excessive that it made the whole court amazed, and they did with infinite pains and great difficulty reduce and appease the people, sending troops of soldiers and guards to cause them to retire into the fields again, where they were watched all this night. i left them pretty quiet, and came home sufficiently weary and broken. their spirits thus a little calmed, and the affright abated, they now began to repair into the suburbs about the city, where such as had friends or opportunity got shelter for the present, to which his majesty's proclamation also invited them. %discovery of gravitation% a.d. sir david brewster many admirers of sir isaac newton have asserted that his was the most gigantic intellect ever bestowed on man. he discovered the law of gravitation, and by it explained all the broader phenomena of nature, such as the movements of the planets, the shape and revolution of the earth, the succession of the tides. copernicus had asserted that the planets moved, newton demonstrated it mathematically. his discoveries in optics were in his own time almost equally famous, while in his later life he shared with leibnitz the honor of inventing the infinitesimal calculus, a method which lies at the root of all the intricate marvels of modern mathematical science. newton should not, however, be regarded as an isolated phenomenon, a genius but for whom the world would have remained in darkness. his first flashing idea of gravitation deserves perhaps to be called an inspiration. but in all his other labors, experimental as well as mathematical, he was but following the spirit of the times. the love of science was abroad, and its infinite curiosity. each of newton's discoveries was claimed also by other men who had been working along similar lines. of the dispute over the gravitation theory sir david brewster, the great authority for the career of newton, gives some account. the controversy over the calculus was even more bitter and prolonged. it were well, however, to disabuse one's mind of the idea that newton's work was a finality, that it settled anything. as to why the law of gravitation exists, why bodies tend to come together, the philosopher had little suggestion to offer, and the present generation knows no more than he. before copernicus and newton men looked only with their eyes, and accepted the apparent movements of sun and stars as real. now, going one step deeper, we look with our brains and see their real movements which underlie appearances. newton supplied us with the law and rate of the movement--but not its cause. it is toward that cause, that great "why?" that science has ever since been dimly groping. in the year , when the plague had driven newton from cambridge, he was sitting alone in the garden at woolsthrope, and reflecting on the nature of gravity, that remarkable power which causes all bodies to descend toward the centre of the earth. as this power is not found to suffer any sensible diminution at the greatest distance from the earth's centre to which we can reach--being as powerful at the tops of the highest mountains as at the bottom of the deepest mines--he conceived it highly probable that it must extend much further than was usually supposed. no sooner had this happy conjecture occurred to his mind than he considered what would be the effect of its extending as far as the moon. that her motion must be influenced by such a power he did not for a moment doubt; and a little reflection convinced him that it might be sufficient for retaining that luminary in her orbit round the earth. though the force of gravity suffers no sensible diminution at those small distances from the earth's centre at which we can place ourselves, yet he thought it very possible that, at the distance of the moon, it might differ much in strength from what it is on the earth. in order to form some estimate of the degree of its diminution, he considered that, if the moon be retained in her orbit by the force of gravity, the primary planets must also be carried round the sun by the same power; and by comparing the periods of the different planets with their distances from the sun he found that, if they were retained in their orbits by any power like gravity, its force must decrease in the duplicate proportion, or as the squares of their distances from the sun. in drawing this conclusion, he supposed the planets to move in orbits perfectly circular, and having the sun in their centre. having thus obtained the law of the force by which the planets were drawn to the sun, his next object was to ascertain if such a force emanating from the earth, and directed to the moon, was sufficient, when diminished in the duplicate ratio of the distance, to retain her in her orbit. in performing this calculation it was necessary to compare the space through which heavy bodies fall in a second at a given distance from the centre of the earth, viz., at its surface, with the space through which the moon, as it were, falls to the earth in a second of time while revolving in a circular orbit. being at a distance from books when he made this computation, he adopted the common estimate of the earth's diameter then in use among geographers and navigators, and supposed that each degree of latitude contained sixty english miles. in this way he found that the force which retains the moon in her orbit, as deduced from the force which occasions the fall of heavy bodies to the earth's surface, was one-sixth greater than that which is actually observed in her circular orbit. this difference threw a doubt upon all his speculations; but, unwilling to abandon what seemed to be otherwise so plausible, he endeavored to account for the difference of the two forces by supposing that some other cause must have been united with the force of gravity in producing so great velocity of the moon in her circular orbit. as this new cause, however, was beyond the reach of observation, he discontinued all further inquiries into the subject, and concealed from his friends the speculations in which he had been employed. after his return to cambridge in his attention was occupied with optical discoveries; but he had no sooner brought them to a close than his mind reverted to the great subject of the planetary motions. upon the death of oldenburg in august, , dr. hooke was appointed secretary to the royal society; and as this learned body had requested the opinion of newton about a system of physical astronomy, he addressed a letter to dr. hooke on november , . in this letter he proposed a direct experiment for verifying the motion of the earth, viz., by observing whether or not bodies that fall from a considerable height descend in a vertical direction; for if the earth were at rest the body would describe exactly a vertical line; whereas if it revolved round its axis, the falling body must deviate from the vertical line toward the east. the royal society attached great value to the idea thus casually suggested, and dr. hooke was appointed to put it to the test of experiment. being thus led to consider the subject more attentively, he wrote to newton that wherever the direction of gravity was oblique to the axis on which the earth revolved, that is, in every part of the earth except the equator, falling bodies should approach to the equator, and the deviation from the vertical, in place of being exactly to the east, as newton maintained, should be to the southeast of the point from which the body began to move. newton acknowledged that this conclusion was correct in theory, and dr. hooke is said to have given an experimental demonstration of it before the royal society in december, . newton had erroneously concluded that the path of the falling body would be a spiral; but dr. hooke, on the same occasion on which he made the preceding experiment, read a paper to the society in which he proved that the path of the body would be an eccentric ellipse _in vacuo_, and an ellipti-spiral if the body moved in a resisting medium. this correction of newton's error, and the discovery that a projectile would move in an elliptical orbit when under the influence of a force varying in the inverse ratio of the square of the distance, led newton, as he himself informs us in his letter to halley, to discover "the theorem by which he afterward examined the ellipsis," and to demonstrate the celebrated proposition that a planet acted upon by an attractive force varying inversely as the squares of the distances, will describe an elliptical orbit in one of whose _foci_ the attractive force resides. but though newton had thus discovered the true cause of all the celestial motions, he did not yet possess any evidence that such a force actually resided in the sun and planets. the failure of his former attempt to identify the law of falling bodies at the earth's surface with that which guided the moon in her orbit, threw a doubt over all his speculations, and prevented him from giving any account of them to the public. an accident, however, of a very interesting nature induced him to resume his former inquiries, and enabled him to bring them to a close. in june, , when he was attending a meeting of the royal society of london, the measurement of a degree of the meridian, executed by m. picard in , became the subject of conversation. newton took a memorandum of the result obtained by the french astronomer, and having deduced from it the diameter of the earth, he immediately resumed his calculation of , and began to repeat it with these new data. in the progress of the calculation he saw that the result which he had formerly expected was likely to be produced, and he was thrown into such a state of nervous irritability that he was unable to carry on the calculation. in this state of mind he intrusted it to one of his friends, and he had the high satisfaction of finding his former views amply realized. the force of gravity which regulated the fall of bodies at the earth's surface, when diminished as the square of the moon's distance from the earth, was found to be almost exactly equal to the centrifugal force of the moon as deduced from her observed distance and velocity. the influence of such a result upon such a mind may be more easily conceived than described. the whole material universe was spread out before him; the sun with all his attending planets; the planets with all their satellites; the comets wheeling in every direction in their eccentric orbits; and the systems of the fixed stars stretching to the remotest limits of space. all the varied and complicated movements of the heavens, in short, must have been at once presented to his mind as the necessary result of that law which he had established in reference to the earth and the moon. after extending this law to the other bodies of the system, he composed a series of propositions on the motion of the primary planets about the sun, which were sent to london about the end of , and were soon afterward communicated to the royal society. about this period other philosophers had been occupied with the same subject. sir christopher wren had many years before endeavored to explain the planetary motions "by the composition of a descent toward the sun, and an impressed motion; but he at length gave it over, not finding the means of doing it." in january, - , dr. halley had concluded from kepler's law of the periods and distances, that the centripetal force decreased in the reciprocal proportion of the squares of the distances, and having one day met sir christopher wren and dr. hooke, the latter affirmed that he had demonstrated upon that principle all the laws of the celestial motions. dr. halley confessed that his attempts were unsuccessful, and sir christopher, in order to encourage the inquiry, offered to present a book of forty shillings value to either of the two philosophers who should, in the space of two months, bring him a convincing demonstration of it. hooke persisted in the declaration that he possessed the method, but avowed it to be his intention to conceal it for time. he promised, however, to show it to sir christopher; but there is every reason to believe that this promise was never fulfilled. in august, , dr. halley went to cambridge for the express purpose of consulting newton on this interesting subject. newton assured him that he had brought this demonstration to perfection, and promised him a copy of it. this copy was received in november by the doctor, who made a second visit to cambridge, in order to induce its author to have it inserted in the register book of the society. on december th dr. halley announced to the society that he had seen at cambridge newton's treatise _de motu corporum_, which he had promised to send to the society to be entered upon their register, and dr. halley was desired to unite with mr. paget, master of the mathematical school in christ's hospital, in reminding newton of his promise, "for securing the invention to himself till such time as he can be at leisure to publish it." on february th mr. aston, the secretary, communicated a letter from newton in which he expressed his willingness "to enter in the register his notions about motion, and his intentions to fit them suddenly for the press." the progress of his work was, however, interrupted by a visit of five or six weeks which he made in lincolnshire; but he proceeded with such diligence on his return that he was able to transmit the manuscript to london before the end of april. this manuscript, entitled _philosophic naturalis principia mathematics_ and dedicated to the society, was presented by dr. vincent on april , , when sir john hoskins, the vice-president and the particular friend of dr. hooke, was in the chair. dr. vincent passed a just encomium on the novelty and dignity of the subject; and another member added that "mr. newton had carried the thing so far that there was no more to be added." to these remarks the vice-president replied that the method "was so much the more to be prized as it was both invented and perfected at the same time." dr. hooke took offence at these remarks, and blamed sir john for not having mentioned "what he had discovered to him"; but the vice-president did not seem to recollect any such communication, and the consequence of this discussion was that "these two, who till then were the most inseparable cronies, have since scarcely seen one another, and are utterly fallen out." after the breaking up of the meeting, the society adjourned to the coffee house, where dr. hooke stated that he not only had made the same discovery, but had given the first hint of it to newton. an account of these proceedings was communicated to newton through two different channels. in a letter dated may d dr. halley wrote to him "that mr. hooke has some pretensions upon the invention of the rule of the decrease of gravity being reciprocally as the squares of the distances from the centre. he says you had the notion from him, though he owns the demonstration of the curves generated thereby to be wholly your own. how much of this is so you know best, as likewise what you have to do in this matter; only mr. hooke seems to expect you would make some mention of him in the preface, which it is possible you may see reason to prefix." this communication from dr. halley induced the author, on june th, to address a long letter to him, in which he gives a minute and able refutation of hooke's claims; but before this letter was despatched another correspondent, who had received his information from one of the members that were present, informed newton "that hooke made a great stir, pretending that he had all from him, and desiring they would see that he had justice done him." this fresh charge seems to have ruffled the tranquillity of newton; and he accordingly added an angry and satirical postscript, in which he treats hooke with little ceremony, and goes so far as to conjecture that hooke might have acquired his knowledge of the law from a letter of his own to huygens, directed to oldenburg, and dated january , - . "my letter to hugenius was directed to mr. oldenburg, who used to keep the originals. his papers came into mr. hooke's possession. mr. hooke, knowing my hand, might have the curiosity to look into that letter, and there take the notion of comparing the forces of the planets arising from their circular motion; and so what he wrote to me afterward about the rate of gravity might be nothing but the fruit of my own garden." in replying to this letter dr. halley assured him that hooke's "manner of claiming the discovery had been represented to him in worse colors than it ought, and that he neither made public application to the society for justice nor pretended that you had all from him." the effect of this assurance was to make newton regret that he had written the angry postscript to his letter; and in replying to halley on july , , he not only expresses his regret, but recounts the different new ideas which he had acquired from hooke's correspondence, and suggests it as the best method "of compromising the present dispute" to add a _scholium_ in which wren, hooke, and halley are acknowledged to have independently deduced the law of gravity from the second law of kepler. at the meeting of april th, at which the manuscript of the _principia_ was presented to the royal society, it was agreed that the printing of it should be referred to the council: that a letter of thanks should be written to its author; and at a meeting of the council on may th it was resolved that the manuscript should be printed at the society's expense, and that dr. halley should superintend it while going through the press. these resolutions were communicated by dr. halley in a letter dated may d; and in newton's reply on june th, already mentioned, he makes the following observations: "the proof you sent me i like very well. i designed the whole to consist of three books; the second was finished last summer, being short, and only wants transcribing and drawing the cuts fairly. some new propositions i have since thought on which i can as well let alone. the third wants the theory of comets. in autumn last i spent two months in calculation to no purpose, for want of a good method, which made me afterward return to the first book and enlarge it with diverse propositions, some relating to comets, others to other things found out last winter. the third i now design to suppress. philosophy is such an impertinently litigious lady that a man had as good be engaged in lawsuits as have to do with her. i found it so formerly, and now i can no sooner come near her again but she gives me warning. the first two books, without the third, will not so well bear the title of _philosophies naturalis principia mathematica_; and therefore i had altered it to this: _de moti corporum, libri duo_. but after second thoughts i retain the former title. 'twill help the sale of the book, which i ought not to diminish now 'tis yours." in replying to this letter on june th dr. halley regrets that our author's tranquillity should have been thus disturbed by envious rivals, and implores him in the name of the society not to suppress the third book. "i must again beg you," says he, "not to let your resentments run so high as to deprive us of your third book, wherein your applications of your mathematical doctrine to the theory of comets, and several curious experiments which, as i guess by what you write ought to compose it, will undoubtedly render it acceptable to those who will call themselves philosophers without mathematics, which are much the greater number." to these solicitations newton seems to have readily yielded. his second book was sent to the society, and presented on march , . the third book was also transmitted, and presented on april th, and the whole work was completed and published in the month of may, . such is the brief account of the publication of a work which is memorable not only in the annals of one science or of one country, but which will form an epoch in the history of the world, and will ever be regarded as the brightest page in the records of human reason. we shall endeavor to convey to the reader some idea of its contents, and of the brilliant discoveries which it disseminated over europe. the _principia_ consists of three books. the first and second, which occupy three-fourths of the work, are entitled _on the motion of bodies_, and the third bears the title _on the system of the world_. the two first books contain the mathematical principles of philosophy, namely, the laws and conditions of motions and forces; and they are illustrated with several philosophical _scholia_ which treat of some of the most general and best-established points in philosophy, such as the density and resistance of bodies, spaces void of matter, and the motion of sound and light. the object of the third book is to deduce from these principles the constitution of the system of the world; and this book has been drawn up in as popular a style as possible, in order that it may be generally read. the great discovery which characterizes the _principia_ is that of the principle of universal gravitation, as deduced from the motion of the moon, and from the three great facts or laws discovered by kepler. this principle is: _that every particle of matter is attracted by or gravitates to every other particle of matter, with a force inversely proportional to the squares of their distances_. from the first law of kepler, namely, the proportionality of the areas to the times of their revolution, newton inferred that the force which kept the planet in its orbit was always directed to the sun; and from the second law of kepler, that every planet moves in an ellipse with the sun in one of its foci, he drew the still more general inference that the force by which the planet moves round that focus varies inversely as the square of its distance from the focus. as this law was true in the motion of satellites round their primary planets newton deduced the equality of gravity in all the heavenly bodies toward the sun, upon the supposition that they are equally distant from its centre; and in the case of terrestrial bodies he succeeded in verifying this truth by numerous and accurate experiments. by taking a more general view of the subject newton demonstrated that a conic section was the only curve in which a body could move when acted upon by a force varying inversely as the square of the distance; and he established the conditions depending on the velocity and the primitive position of the body, which were requisite to make it describe a circular, an elliptical, a parabolic, or a hyberbolic orbit. notwithstanding the generality and importance of these results, it still remained to be determined whether the forces resided in the centres of the planets or belonged to each individual particle of which they were composed. newton removed this uncertainty by demonstrating that if a spherical body acts upon a distant body with a force varying as the distance of this body from the centre of the sphere, the same effect will be produced as if each of its particles acted upon the distant body according to the same law. and hence it follows that the spheres, whether they are of uniform density or consist of concentric layers, with densities varying according to any law whatever, will act upon each other in the same manner as if their force resided in their centres alone. but as the bodies of the solar system are very nearly spherical they will all act upon one another, and upon bodies placed on their surfaces, as if they were so many centres of attraction; and therefore we obtain the law of gravity which subsists between spherical bodies, namely, that one sphere will act upon another with a force directly proportional to the quantity of matter, and inversely as the square of the distance between the centres of the spheres. from the equality of action and reaction, to which no exception can be found, newton concluded that the sun gravitated to the planets, and the planets to their satellites; and the earth itself to the stone which falls upon its surface, and, consequently, that the two mutually gravitating bodies approached to one another with velocities inversely proportional to their quantities of matter. having established this universal law, newton was enabled not only to determine the weight which the same body would have at the surface of the sun and the planets, but even to calculate the quantity of matter in the sun, and in all the planets that had satellites, and even to determine the density or specific gravity of the matter of which they were composed. in this way he found that the weight of the same body would be twenty-three times greater at the surface of the sun than at the surface of the earth, and that the density of the earth was four times greater than that of the sun, the planets increasing in density as they receded from the centre of the system. if the peculiar genius of newton has been displayed in his investigation of the law of universal gravitation, it shines with no less lustre in the patience and sagacity with which he traced the consequences of this fertile principle. the discovery of the spheroidal form of jupiter by cassini had probably directed the attention of newton to the determination of its cause, and consequently to the investigation of the true figure of the earth. the next subject to which newton applied the principle of gravity was the tides of the ocean. the philosophers of all ages had recognized the connection between the phenomena of the tides and the position of the moon. the college of jesuits at coimbra, and subsequently antonio de dominis and kepler, distinctly referred the tides to the attraction of the waters of the earth by the moon; but so imperfect was the explanation which was thus given of the phenomena that galileo ridiculed the idea of lunar attraction, and substituted for it a fallacious explanation of his own. that the moon is the principal cause of the tides is obvious from the well-known fact that it is high water at any given place about the time when she is in the meridian of that place; and that the sun performs a secondary part in their production may be proved from the circumstance that the highest tides take place when the sun, the moon, and the earth are in the same straight line; that is, when the force of the sun conspires with that of the moon; and that the lowest tides take place when the lines drawn from the sun and moon to the earth are at right angles to each other; that is, when the force of the sun acts in opposition to that of the moon. by comparing the spring and neap tides newton found that the force with which the moon acted upon the waters of the earth was to that with which the sun acted upon them as . to ; that the force of the moon produced a tide of . feet; that of the sun, one of . feet; and both of them combined, one of - / french feet, a result which in the open sea does not deviate much from observation. having thus ascertained the force of the moon on the waters of our globe, he found that the quantity of matter in the moon was to that in the earth as to , and the density of the moon to that of the earth as to . the motions of the moon, so much within the reach of our own observation, presented a fine field for the application of the theory of universal gravitation. the irregularities exhibited in the lunar motions had been known in the time of hipparchus and ptolemy. tycho had discovered the great inequality, called the "variation," amounting to ', and depending on the alternate acceleration and retardation of the moon in every quarter of a revolution, and he had also ascertained the existence of the annual equation. of these two inequalities newton gave a most satisfactory explanation. although there could be little doubt that the comets were retained in their orbits by the same laws which regulated the motions of the planets, yet it was difficult to put this opinion to the test of observation. the visibility of comets only in a small part of their orbits rendered it difficult to ascertain their distance and periodic times; and as their periods were probably of great length, it was impossible to correct approximate results by repeated observations. newton, however, removed this difficulty by showing how to determine the orbit of a comet, namely, the form and position of the orbit, and the periodic time, by three observations. by applying this method to the comet of he calculated the elements of its orbit, and, from the agreement of the computed places with those which were observed, he justly inferred that the motions of comets were regulated by the same laws as those of the planetary bodies. this result was one of great importance; for as the comets enter our system in every possible direction, and at all angles with the ecliptic, and as a great part of their orbits extends far beyond the limits of the solar system, it demonstrated the existence of gravity in spaces far removed beyond the planet, and proved that the law of the inverse ratio of the squares of the distance was true in every possible direction, and at very remote distances from the centre of our system. such is a brief view of the leading discoveries which the _principia_ first announced to the world. the grandeur of the subjects of which it treats, the beautiful simplicity of the system which it unfolds, the clear and concise reasoning by which that system is explained, and the irresistible evidence by which it is supported might have insured it the warmest admiration of contemporary mathematicians and the most welcome reception in all the schools of philosophy throughout europe. this, however, is not the way in which great truths are generally received. though the astronomical discoveries of newton were not assailed by the class of ignorant pretenders who attacked his optical writings, yet they were everywhere resisted by the errors and prejudices which had taken a deep hold even of the strongest minds. the philosophy of descartes was predominant throughout europe. appealing to the imagination, and not to the reason, of mankind it was quickly received into popular favor, and the same causes which facilitated its introduction, extended its influence and completed its dominion over the human mind. in explaining all the movements of the heavenly bodies by a system of vortices in a fluid medium diffused through the universe descartes had seized upon an analogy of the most alluring and deceitful kind. those who had seen heavy bodies revolving in the eddies of a whirlpool or in the gyrations of a vessel of water thrown into a circular motion had no difficulty in conceiving how the planets might revolve round the sun by an analogous movement. the mind instantly grasped at an explanation of so palpable a character and which required for its development neither the exercise of patient thought nor the aid of mathematical skill. the talent and perspicuity with which the cartesian system was expounded, and the show by which it was sustained, contributed powerfully to its adoption, while it derived a still higher sanction from the excellent character and the unaffected piety of its author. thus intrenched, as the cartesian system was, in the strongholds of the human mind, and fortified by its most obstinate prejudices, it was not to be wondered at that the pure and sublime doctrines of the _principia_, were distrustfully received and perseveringly resisted. the uninstructed mind could not readily admit the idea that the great masses of the planets were suspended in empty space and retained in their orbits by an invisible influence residing in the sun; and even those philosophers who had been accustomed to the rigor of true scientific research, and who possessed sufficient mathematical skill for the examination of the newtonian doctrines, viewed them at first as reviving the occult qualities of the ancient physics, and resisted their introduction with a pertinacity which it is not easy to explain. prejudiced, no doubt, in favor of his own metaphysical views, leibnitz himself misapprehended the principles of the newtonian philosophy, and endeavored to demonstrate the truths in the _principia_ by the application of different principles. huygens, who above all other men was qualified to appreciate the new philosophy, rejected the doctrine of gravitation as existing between the individual particles of matter and received it only as an attribute of the planetary masses. john bernouilli, one of the first mathematicians of his age, opposed the philosophy of newton. mairan, in the early part of his life, was a strenuous defender of the system of vortices. cassini and maraldi were quite ignorant of the _principia_, and occupied themselves with the most absurd methods of calculating the orbits of comets long after the newtonian method had been established on the most impregnable foundation; and even fontenelle, a man of liberal views and extensive information, continued, throughout the whole of his life, to maintain the doctrines of descartes. the chevalier louville of paris had adopted the newtonian philosophy before ; gravesande had introduced it into the dutch universities at a somewhat earlier period; and maupertuis, in consequence of a visit which he paid to england in , became a zealous defender of it; but notwithstanding these and some other examples that might be quoted, we must admit the truth of the remark of voltaire, that though newton survived the publication of the _principia_ more than forty years, yet at the time of his death he had not above twenty followers out of england. %morgan, the buccaneer, sacks panama% a.d. johann w. von archenholz in the seventeenth century appeared "a class of rovers wholly distinct from any of their predecessors in the annals of the world, differing as widely in their plans, organizations, and exploits as in the principles that governed their actions." these adventurers were a piratical gang called buccaneers, or sometimes, as in the following narrative, freebooters, who became noted for their exploits in the west indies and on south american coasts. the nucleus of this association of pirates is traced to bands of smugglers--english, french, and dutch--who carried on a secret trade with the island of santo domingo. later they settled there and on other islands, and after a while began to prey upon spanish commerce. in they made their chief head-quarters on the island of tortuga; in they aided in the english conquest of jamaica, and ten years later settled the bahamas. all these islands became centres of their activities. most renowned among the leaders of the buccaneers was sir henry morgan, a welshman, who died in jamaica in . for years he carried stolen riches to england, and charles ii rewarded him with knighthood. having pillaged parts of cuba, he took and ransomed puerto bello, in colombia ( ), and maracaibo, in venezuela ( ). in morgan gathered a fleet of nearly forty vessels, and a force of over two thousand men, for the greatest of the exploits of the buccaneers, the capture and plunder of the wealthy city of panama. by the end of the century the buccaneers had become dispersed among contending european armies, and little more was heard of them. morgan's plan of capturing panama was apparently attended with innumerable difficulties. the chief obstacle was the position of that city on the pacific coast at such a great distance from the caribbean sea; and not an individual on board the fleet was acquainted with the road that led to the goal. to remedy this inconvenience, morgan determined, in the first instance, to go to the island of st. catharine, where the spaniards confined their criminals, and thence to supply himself with guides. the passage was rapid. morgan landed in that island one thousand men, who, by threatening to put to death everyone that hesitated for a moment to surrender, so terrified the spaniards that they speedily capitulated. it was stipulated that, to save at least the honor of the garrison, there should be a sham fight. in consequence of this, a very sharp fire ensued, from the forts on one side, and on the other from the ships; but on both sides the cannons discharged only powder. further, to give a serious appearance to this military comedy, the governor suffered himself to be taken, while attempting to pass from fort jerome to another fort. at the beginning the crafty morgan did not rely too implicitly on this feint; and to provide for every event, he secretly ordered his soldiers to load their fusees with bullets, but to discharge them in the air, unless they perceived some treachery on the part of the spaniards. but his enemies adhered most faithfully to their capitulation; and this mock engagement, in which neither party was sparing of powder, was followed for some time with all the circumstances which could give it the semblance of reality. ten forts surrendered, one after another, after sustaining a kind of siege or assault; and this series of successes did not cost the life of a single man, nor even a scratch, on the part either of the victors or of the conquered. all the inhabitants of the island were shut up in the great fort of santa teresa, which was built on a steep rock; and the conquerors, who had not taken any sustenance for twenty-four hours, declared a most serious war against the horned cattle and game of the district. in the isle of st. constantine morgan found four hundred fifty-nine persons of both sexes; one hundred ninety of whom were soldiers, forty-two criminals, eighty-five children, and sixty-six negroes. there were ten forts, containing sixty-eight cannons, which were so defended in other respects by nature that very small garrisons were deemed amply sufficient to protect them. besides an immense quantity of fusees and grenades--which were at that time much used--upward of three hundred quintals of gunpowder were found in the arsenal. the whole of this ammunition was carried on board the pirate's ships; the cannon, which could be of no service to them, were spiked; their carriages were burned, and all the forts demolished excepting one, which the freebooters themselves garrisoned. morgan selected three of the criminals to serve him as guides to panama. these he afterward, on his return to jamaica, set at liberty, even giving them a share in the booty. the plan, conceived by this intrepid chieftain, inspired all his companions in arms with genuine enthusiasm; it had a character of grandeur and audacity that inflamed their courage; how capable they were of executing it the subsequent pages will demonstrate. panama, which stood on the shore of the pacific ocean, in the ninth degree of northern latitude, was at that time one of the greatest, as well as most opulent cities in america. it contained two thousand large houses, the greater number of which were very fine piles of building, and five thousand smaller dwellings, each mostly three stories in height. of these, a pretty considerable number were erected of stone, all the rest of cedar-wood, very elegantly constructed and magnificently furnished. that city was defended by a rampart and was surrounded with walls. it was the emporium for the silver of mexico and the gold of peru, whence those valuable metals were brought on the backs of mules--two thousand of which animals were kept for this purpose only--across the isthmus toward the northern coast of the pacific. a great commerce was also carried on at panama in negroes; which trade was at that time almost exclusively confined to the english, dutch, french, and danes. with this branch of commerce the italians were intimately acquainted. they gave lessons in it to all the rest of europe; and, as two things were necessary, in which the genoese were by no means deficient--money and address--they were chiefly occupied in the slave trade, and supplied the provinces of peru and chile with negroes. at the period now referred to, the president of panama was the principal intendant or overseer of the civil department, and captain-general of all the troops in the viceroyalty of peru. he had in his dependency puerto bello and nata, two cities inhabited by the spaniards, together with the towns of cruces, panama, capira, and veragua. the city of panama had also a bishop, who was a suffragan of the archbishop of lima. the merchants lived in great opulence; and their churches were decorated with uncommon magnificence. the cathedral was erected in the italian style, surmounted with a large cupola, and enriched with gold and silver ornaments; as also were the eight convents which this city comprised. at a small distance from its walls there were some small islands, alike embellished by art and by nature, where the richest inhabitants had their country houses; from which circumstance they were called the "gardens of panama." in short, everything concurred to render this place important and agreeable. here several of the european nations had palaces for carrying on their commerce; and among these were the genoese, who were held in great credit, and who had vast warehouses for receiving the articles of their immense trade, as also a most magnificent edifice. the principal houses were filled with beautiful paintings and the masterpieces of the arts, which had here been accumulated--more from an intense desire of being surrounded with all the splendor of luxury--since they possessed the means of procuring it--than from a refined taste. their superabundance of gold and silver had been employed in obtaining these splendid superfluities, which were of no value but to gratify the vanity of their possessors. such was panama in , when the freebooters selected it as the object of their bold attempt, and as the victim of their extravagancies, and immortalized their name by reducing it to a heap of ruins. in the execution of this design, which stupefied the new world, they displayed equal prudence and cruelty. previous to the adoption of any other measure, it was necessary that the pirates should get possession of fort st. laurent, which was situated on the banks of the river chagres. with this view, morgan detached four ships, with four hundred men, under the command of the intrepid brodely, who had happily succeeded in victualling the fleet, and who was intimately acquainted with the country. morgan continued at the island of st. catharine with the rest of his forces. his plan was to dissemble his vast projects against panama as long as it was possible, and to cause the pillage of fort st. laurent to be regarded as a common expedition to which he would confine himself. brodely discharged his commission with equal courage and success. that castle was situated on a lofty mountain, at the mouth of the river, and was inaccessible on almost every side. the first attempts were fruitless; and the freebooters, who advanced openly, without any other arms than their fusees and sabres, at first lost many of their comrades; for the spaniards not only made use of all their artillery and musketry against them, but were also seconded by the indians that were with them in the fort and whose arrows were far more fatal than the bullets. the assailants saw their companions-in-arms fall by their side without being able to avenge them. the danger of their present situation and the nature of their arms seemed to render the enterprise altogether impracticable. their courage began to waver, their ranks were thrown into disorder, and they already thought of retiring, when the provocations of the spaniards inspired them with new vigor. "you heretic dogs," cried they in a triumphant tone; "you cursed english, possessed by the devil! ah, you will go to panama, will you? no, no; that you shall not; you shall all bite the dust here, and all your comrades shall share the same fate." from these insulting speeches the pirates learned that the design of their expedition was discovered; and from that moment they determined to carry the fort or die to a man upon the spot. they immediately commenced the assault in defiance of the shower of arrows that were discharged against them, and undismayed by the loss of their commander, both of whose legs had been carried away by a cannon-ball. one of the pirates, in whose shoulder an arrow was deeply fixed, tore it out himself, exclaiming: "patience, comrades, an idea strikes me; all the spaniards are lost!" he tore some cotton out of his pocket, with which he covered his ramrod, set the cotton on fire, and shot this burning material, in lieu of bullets, at the houses of the fort, which were covered with light wood and the leaves of palm trees. his companions collected together the arrows which were strewed around them upon the ground, and employed them in a similar manner. the effect of this novel mode of attack was most rapid; many of the houses caught fire; a powder-wagon blew up. the besieged, being thus diverted from their means of defence, thought only of stopping the progress of the fire. night came on; under cover of the darkness the freebooters attempted also to set on fire the palisades, which were made of a kind of wood that was easily kindled. in this attempt likewise they were crowned with success. the soil, which the palisades supported, fell down for want of support, and filled up the ditch. the spaniards nevertheless continued to defend themselves with much courage, being animated by the example of their commander, who fought till the very moment he received a mortal blow. the garrison had, throughout, the use of their cannon, which kept up a most violent fire; but the enemy had already made too much progress to be disconcerted with it; they persevered in their attack, until they at length became masters of the fort. a great number of spaniards, finding themselves deprived of all resource, precipitated themselves from the top of the walls into the river, that they might not fall alive into the hands of the freebooters, who made only twenty-four prisoners, and ten of these were wounded men, who had concealed themselves among the dead, in the hope of escaping their ferocious conquerors. these twenty-four men were all that remained of three hundred forty who had composed the garrison, which had shortly before been reënforced, for the president of panama, having been apprised from carthagena of the real object of the pirates' expedition, came to encamp, with thirty-six hundred men, in the vicinity of the threatened city. this information was confirmed to the freebooters after the capture of the fort. at the same time they learned that among this body of troops there were four hundred horsemen, six hundred indians, and two hundred mulat-toes; the last of whom, being very expert in hunting bulls, were intended, in case of necessity, to send two thousand of those animals among the freebooters. it is scarcely credible that brodely continued to command, notwithstanding the severity of his wounds; but he would not, by retiring, compromise the advantages which he had so dearly purchased; for out of four hundred men who had composed his little army, one hundred sixty had been killed, eighty wounded; and of these eighty, sixty were altogether out of the battle. the bodies of the french and english were interred; but those of the spaniards were thrown down from the top of the fort and remained in a heap at the foot of its walls. brodely found much ammunition and abundance of provisions, with which he was the more satisfied, as he knew that the grand fleet was greatly in want of both those articles. he caused the fort to be rebuilt, as far as was practicable, in order that he might defend himself there in case the spaniards should make a speedy attempt to retake it. in this situation he waited for morgan, who in a short time appeared with his fleet. as the pirates approached, they beheld the english flag flying on the fort, and abandoned themselves to the most tumultuous joy and excessive drinking, without dreaming of the dangers occurring at the mouth of the river chagres, beneath whose waters there was a sunken rock. the coasting pilots of those latitudes came to their assistance, but their intoxication and their impatience would not permit them to attend to the latter. this negligence was attended with most fatal consequences and cost them four ships, one of which was the admiral's vessel. the crews, however, together with their ladings, were saved. this loss greatly affected morgan, who was wholly intent upon his vast designs, but who, nevertheless, made his entrance into st. laurent, where he left a garrison of five hundred men. he also detached from his body of troops one hundred fifty men for the purpose of seizing several spanish vessels that were in the river. the remainder of his forces morgan directed to follow himself. they carried but a small supply of provisions, not only that his march might not be impeded, but also because the means of conveyance were very limited. besides, he was apprehensive lest he should expose to famine the garrison he had left in the fort, which did not abound with provisions, and was cut off on every side from receiving supplies; and it was likewise necessary that he should leave sufficient for the support of all the prisoners and slaves, whose number amounted very nearly to one thousand. after all these steps had been taken, morgan briefly addressed his comrades, whom he exhorted to arm themselves with courage calculated to subdue every obstacle, that they might return to jamaica with an increase of glory, and riches sufficient to supply all their wants for the rest of their lives. at length, on january th, he commenced his march toward panama, with a chosen body of freebooters, who were thirteen hundred strong. the greatest part of their journey was performed by water, following the course of the river. five vessels were laden with the artillery; and the troops were placed in a very narrow compass on board thirty-two boats. one reason why they had brought only a small quantity of provisions was because they hoped to meet with a supply on their route; but on the very day of their arrival at rio de los bravos the expectations of the pirates were frustrated. at the place where they landed they literally found nothing: the terror which they everywhere inspired had preceded them; the spaniards had betaken themselves to flight, and had carried with them all their cattle and even the very last article of their movables. they had cut the grain and pulse without waiting for their maturity, the roots of which were even torn out of the ground: the houses and stables were empty. the first day of their voyage was spent in abstinence, tobacco affording them the only gratification that was not refused them. the second day was not more prosperous. in addition to the various impediments by which their passage was obstructed, want of rain had rendered the waters of the river very shallow, and a great number of trees had fallen into it, presenting almost insurmountable obstacles. on their arrival at the cruz de juan gallego, they had no other alternative left but to abandon their boats and pursue their route by land; otherwise, they must have resigned themselves to the confusion necessarily consequent on retracing their steps. animated, however, by their chieftains, they determined to try the adventure. on the third day their way led them to a forest, where there was no beaten path, and the soil of which was marshy. but it was indispensably necessary that they should leave this wretched passage, in order that they might reach--with incredible difficulties, indeed--the town of cedro bueno. for all these excessive fatigues they found no indemnification whatever; there were no provisions, not even a single head of game. these luckless adventurers at length saw themselves surrounded by all the horrors of famine. many of them were reduced to devour the leaves of trees; the majority were altogether destitute of sustenance. in this state of severe privations, and with very light clothing, they passed the nights lying on the shore, benumbed with cold, incapable of enjoying, even in the smallest degree, the solace of sleep, and expecting with anxiety the return of day. their courage was supported only with the hope of meeting some bodies of spaniards, or some groups of fugitive inhabitants, and consequently of finding provisions, with an abundance of which the latter never failed to supply themselves when they abandoned their dwellings. further, the pirates were obliged to continue their route at a small distance only from the river, as they had contrived to drag their canoes along with them, and, whenever the water was of sufficient depth, part of the men embarked on board them, while the remainder prosecuted their journey by land. they were preceded a few hundred paces by an advanced guard of thirty men under the direction of a guide who was intimately acquainted with the country; and the strictest silence was observed, in order that they might discover the ambuscades of the spaniards, and, if it were possible, make some of them prisoners. on the fourth day the freebooters reached torna cavellos, a kind of fortified place which also had been evacuated, the spaniards having carried away with them everything that was portable and consumed the rest by fire. their design was to leave the pirates neither movables nor utensils; in fact, this was the only resource left them by which they could reduce those formidable guests to such a state of privation as to compel them to retire. the only things which had not been burned or carried off were some large sacks of hides, which were to these freebooters objects of avidity, and which had almost occasioned a bloody dispute. previously to devouring them, it was necessary to cut them into pieces with all possible equity. thus divided, the leather was cut into small bits, these were scraped and violently beaten between two stones. it was then soaked in water, in order to become soft, after which it was roasted; nor, thus prepared, could it have been swallowed if they had not taken most copious draughts of water. after this repast the freebooters resumed their route, and arrived at torna-munni, where also they found an abandoned fortress. on the fifth day they reached barbacoas; but still no place presented to their view either man, animal, or any kind of provisions whatever. here likewise the spaniards had taken the precaution of carrying away or destroying everything that could serve for food. fortunately, however, they discovered in the hollow of a rock two sacks of flour, some fruit, and two large vessels filled with wine. this discovery would have transported with joy a less numerous troop; but, to so many famished men it presented only very feeble resource. morgan, who did not suffer less from hunger than the rest, generously appropriated none of it to his own use, but caused this scanty supply to be distributed among those who were just ready to faint. many, indeed, were almost dying. these were conveyed on board the boats, the charge of which was committed to them; while those who had hitherto had the care of the vessels, were reunited to the body that was travelling by land. their march was very slow, both on account of the extreme weakness of these men, even after the very moderate refreshment they had just taken, as well as from the roughness and difficulties of the way; and during the fifth day the pirates had no other sustenance but the leaves of trees and the grass of the meadows. on the following day the freebooters made still less progress; want of food had totally exhausted them, and they were frequently obliged to rest. at length they reached a plantation, where they found a vast quantity of maize in a granary that had just been abandoned. what a discovery was this to men whose appetites were sharpened by such long protractions! a great many of them devoured the grains in a raw state; the rest covered their shares with the leaves of the banana-tree, and thus cooked or roasted the maize. reinvigorated by this food, they pursued their route; and, on the same day, they discovered a troop of indians on the other side of the river, but those savages betook themselves to flight, so that it was impossible to reach them. the cruel freebooters fired on them and killed some of them; the rest escaped, exclaiming: "come, you english dogs, come into the meadow; we will there wait for you." to this challenge the pirates were little tempted to answer. their supply of maize was exhausted; and they were further obliged to lie down in the open air without eating anything. hitherto, in the midst of privations the most severely painful, as well as of the most difficult labors, they had evinced an inexhaustible patience, but at length violent murmurs arose. morgan and his rash enterprise became the object of their execrations: a great number of the freebooters were desirous of returning; but the rest, although discontented, declared that they would rather perish than not terminate an expedition so far advanced and which had cost them so much trouble. on the following day they crossed the river and directed their march toward a place which they took for a town or, at all events, for a village, where, to their great satisfaction, they thought they perceived at a distance the smoke issuing from several chimneys. "there, at last," said they, "we shall surely find both men and provisions." their expectations were completely frustrated; not a single individual appeared throughout the place. they found no other articles of sustenance but a leather sack full of bread, together with a few cats and dogs, which were instantly killed and devoured. the place where they had now arrived was the town of cruces, at which were usually landed those commodities which were conveyed up the river chagres, in order to be carried by land to panama, which was eight french leagues distant. here were some fine warehouses built of stone, and likewise some stables belonging to the king of spain, which, at the moment of the pirates' arrival, were the only buildings that remained untouched, all the inhabitants having betaken themselves to flight after they had set their houses on fire. every corner of these royal buildings was ransacked by the freebooters, who at length discovered seventeen large vessels full of peruvian wine, which were immediately emptied. scarcely, however, had they drunk this liquor, which was to recruit their exhausted strength, than they all fell ill. at first they thought the wine was poisoned; they were overwhelmed with consternation, and were fully persuaded that their last hour was come. their terrors were unfounded; as their sudden indisposition was easily accounted for by the nature of the unwholesome food they had so recently taken, by the extreme diminution of their strength, and the avidity with which they had swallowed the wine; in fact, they found themselves much better on the following day. as morgan had been reduced to the necessity of removing, at this place, to a distance from all his ships, he was obliged to land all his men, not even excepting those who were most exhausted by weakness. the shallops alone, with sixty men, were sent to the spot where his vessels and largest ships had been left. a single shallop only was reserved to carry news, if occasion offered, to the flotilla. morgan prohibited every man from going alone to any distance; and even required that they should not make excursions in troops amounting to less than a hundred men. famine, however, compelled the freebooters to infringe this prohibition. six of them went out to some distance in quest of food; the event justified the foresight of their chieftain. they were attacked by a large body of spaniards, and could not without very great difficulty regain the village: they had also the mortification to see one of their comrades taken prisoner. morgan now determined to prosecute his march. after reviewing his companions-in-arms he found that they amounted to eleven hundred men. as he foresaw that they were apprehensive lest their lost comrade should betray the secret of their enterprise and the state of their forces, morgan made them believe that he had not been taken; that he had only lost his way in the woods, but had now returned to the main body. the freebooters were on the eighth day of their painful journey, and nothing but the hope of speedily terminating their labors could support them much longer, for they had now ascertained that they were on the way to panama. an advanced guard of two hundred men was therefore formed, which was to watch the movements of the enemy. they marched onward for a whole day without perceiving any living object whatever, when suddenly a shower of three or four thousand arrows was discharged upon them from the top of a rock. for some minutes they were struck with astonishment; no enemy presented himself to their view. they beheld around them, at their feet, above their heads, nothing but steep rocks, trees, and abysses; and, without striking a single blow, they reckoned twenty of their comrades killed or wounded. this unexpected attack not being continued, they pursued their march across a forest, where, in a hollow way, they fell upon a large body of indians who opposed their progress with much valor. in this engagement the freebooters were victorious, though they lost eight killed and ten wounded. they made every possible effort to catch some of the fugitives, but these fled away with the velocity of stags across the rocks, with all the turnings and windings of which they were intimately acquainted. not a single man fell into their hands; the indian chieftain was wounded; and, notwithstanding he lay on the ground, he continued to fight most obstinately until he received a mortal blow. he wore a crown of party-colored feathers. his death made a great impression on the indians and was the principal cause of their defeat. the ground on which they had attacked the pirates was so favorable that one hundred men would have been fully sufficient to have destroyed the whole troop of freebooters. the latter availed themselves of the inconceivable negligence of the spaniards in not taking more effectual measures for the defence of such an important pass. they exerted all possible diligence to make their way out of this labyrinth of rocks, where a second attack of a similar kind would have been attended with consequences of the most fatal tendency to them, and to get into an open and level country. on the ninth day they found themselves in a plain or spacious meadow, entirely divested of trees, so that nothing could shelter them against the ardor of the solar rays. it rained, however, most copiously at the moment of their arrival; and this circumstance added yet more to their difficulties. in a short time they were wetted to their skins. in case of a sudden attack their arms and ammunition would have afforded them but little assistance; while the spaniards would be able most effectively to use their spears, which could not be damaged by the rain. no human means could remedy this inconvenience. the pirates had only to abandon themselves to their fate. morgan most ardently desired that some prisoner might fall into his hands, from whose confessions, either voluntary or involuntary, he might obtain some information by which to direct his march. with this intention, fifty men were detached in different directions, with a promised reward of three hundred piasters, out of the society's stock, to the man who should bring in either a spaniard or an indian, exclusive of the share of booty to which he should be entitled. about noon they ascended a steep hill, from whose summit they began to discover the pacific. at this sight, which announced the speedy termination of their miseries, they were transported with joy. from the top of this eminence they also perceived six ships departing from panama, and sailing toward the islands of taroga and tarogiela, which were situated in the vicinity of that city. panama itself for the present escaped their observation; but how was their satisfaction increased on beholding, in a valley, a vast number of bulls, cows, horses, and particularly of asses, which were under the care of some spaniards, who betook themselves to flight the moment they saw the formidable pirates approaching? to the latter no _rencontre_ could be more desirable. they were ready to faint with famine and fatigue; the sustenance which they immediately devoured would contribute to give them that strength which every moment would become so necessary to them, and it is altogether inconceivable how the spaniards could abandon such a prey to their famished enemies. this want of foresight can only be accounted for by the panic with which the spaniards were seized. the spot which had just been deserted was occupied for some hours by the freebooters; they stood in great need of rest, and were in much greater want of provisions. they rushed therefore on the animals that had been left behind, of which they killed a great number, and devoured their half-raw flesh with such avidity that the blood streamed in torrents from their lips over the whole of their bodies. what could not be consumed on the spot they carried away with them, for morgan, apprehensive of an attack by the flower of the spaniards' troops, allowed them only a small space of time for repose. they resumed their march, but the uncertainty in which they had so long been involved was not yet at an end. notwithstanding all that chieftain's experience, his spies could not succeed in taking a single prisoner--a circumstance, which seems almost incredible in a populous country--and after nine days' march morgan was deprived of every hint that was so essentially necessary to him. further, the freebooters were utterly ignorant how near they were to panama, when, from the summit of a hill, they discovered the towers of that city. they could not refrain from shouting for joy. the air reëchoed with the sound of trumpets and cymbals; they threw up their caps in the air, vociferating, "victory! victory!" in this place they halted and pitched their camp, with the firm determination of attacking panama on the following day. at this time the spaniards were in the utmost confusion. the first defensive step which they deemed it advisable to take was to despatch fifty horsemen for the purpose of reconnoitring the enemy. the detachment approached the camp within musket-shot and offered some insults to the freebooters, but speedily returned toward the city, exclaiming, "_perros, nos veromos!_" ("you dogs, we will see you again!") shortly after a second detachment of two hundred men appeared, who occupied every pass, in order that, after the victory--which they considered as infallible--not one single pirate might escape. the freebooters, however, beheld with the utmost concern the measures which were adopted in order to block them up, and, previously to every other consideration, turned their attention toward their abundant supply of provision. as they were prohibited from kindling any fire, they devoured the meat they had brought with them _entirely in a raw state_. they could not conceive how the spaniards could carry their neglect or their fancied security to such a length as not to disturb that repose of which they stood so greatly in need; nor how they could allow them the necessary leisure for recruiting their exhausted strength and thus become the more fit for battle. they availed themselves of this oversight and were perfectly at ease; after they had glutted themselves with animal food they lay down upon the grass and slept quietly. throughout the night the spaniards made their artillery roar without intermission, in order to display their vigilance. on the ensuing day, which was the tenth of their march, january , , the pirates advanced at a very early hour, with their military music, and took the road leading to panama. by the advice, however, of one of their guides, they quitted the main road and went out of the way across a thick wood through which there was no footpath. for this the spaniards were unprepared, having confined themselves to the erection of batteries and construction of redoubts on the highway. they soon perceived the inutility of this measure and were obliged to relinquish their guns in order to oppose their enemies on the contrary side; but not being able to take their cannons away from their batteries, they were, consequently, incapacitated from making use of one part of their defensive means. after two hours' march the freebooters discovered the hostile army, which was a very fine one, well equipped, and was advancing in battle array. the soldiers were clad in party-colored silk stuffs, and the horsemen were seated upon their mettlesome steeds as if they were going to a bull-fight. the president in person took the command of this body of troops, which was of considerable importance, both for the country and likewise for the forces supported there by spain. he marched against the pirates with four regiments of the line consisting of infantry, besides twenty-four hundred foot-soldiers of another description, four hundred horsemen, and twenty-four hundred wild bulls under the conduct of several hundred indians and negroes. this army, which extended over the whole plain, was discovered by the pirates from the summit of a small eminence, and presented to them a most imposing appearance, insomuch that they were struck with a kind of terror. they now began to feel some anxiety as to the event of an engagement with forces so greatly superior to them in point of numbers, but they were soon convinced that they must actually conquer or die, and encouraged each other to fight till the very last drop of their blood was shed; a determination this, which, on the part of these intrepid men, was by no means a vain resolution. they divided themselves into three bodies, placed two hundred of their best marksmen in the front, and marched boldly against the spaniards, who were drawn up in order of battle on a very spacious plain. the governor immediately ordered the cavalry to charge the enemy, and the wild bulls to be at the same time let loose upon them. but the ground was unfavorable for this purpose; the horsemen encountered nothing but marshes, behind which were posted the two hundred marksmen, who kept up such a continual and well-directed fire that horses and men fell in heaps beneath their shots before it was possible to effect a retreat. fifty horsemen only escaped this formidable discharge of musketry. the bulls, on whose services they had calculated so highly, it became impracticable to drive among the pirates. hence such a confusion arose as to completely reverse the whole plan of the battle. the freebooters, in consequence, attacked the spanish infantry with so much the greater vigor. they successively knelt on the ground, fired, and rose up again. while those who were on one knee directed their fire against the hostile army, which began to waver; the pirates, who continued standing, rapidly charged their fire-arms. every man, on this occasion, evinced a dexterity and presence of mind which decided the fate of the battle. almost every shot was fatal. the spaniards, nevertheless, continued to defend themselves with much valor, which proved of little service against an exasperated enemy whose courage, inflamed by despair, derived additional strength from their successes. at length the spaniards had recourse to their last expedient: the wild cattle were let loose upon the rear of the freebooters. the buccaneers were in their element: by their shouts they intimidated the bulls, at the same time waving party-colored flags before them; fired on the animals and laid them all upon the ground, without exception. the engagement lasted two hours; and notwithstanding the spaniards were so greatly superior, both in numbers and in arms, it terminated entirely in favor of the freebooters. the spaniards lost the chief part of their cavalry, on which they had built their expectations of victory; the remainder returned to the charge repeatedly, but their efforts only tended to render their defeat the more complete. a very few horsemen only escaped, together with some few of the infantry who threw down their arms to facilitate the rapidity of their flight. six hundred spaniards lay dead on the field of battle; besides these, they sustained a very considerable loss in such as were wounded and taken prisoner. among the latter were some franciscans who had exposed themselves to the greatest dangers in order that they might animate the combatants and afford the last consolations of religion to the dying. they were conducted into morgan's presence, who instantly pronounced sentence of death upon them. in vain did these hapless priests implore that pity which they might have expected from a less ferocious enemy. they were all killed by pistol-shots. many spaniards who were apprehensive lest they should be overtaken in their flight had concealed themselves in the flags and rushes along the banks of the river. they were mostly discovered and hacked to pieces by the merciless pirates. the freebooters' task, however, was by no means completed. they had yet to take panama, a large and populous city, which was defended by forts and batteries, and into which the governor had retired, together with the fugitives. the conquest of this place was the more difficult, as the pirates had dearly purchased their victory, and their remaining forces were in no respect adequate to encounter the difficulties attending such an enterprise. it was, however, determined to make an attempt. morgan had just procured from a wounded captive spanish officer the necessary information; but he had not a moment to lose. it would not do to allow the spaniards time to adopt new measures of defence; the city was therefore assaulted on the same day, in defiance of a formidable artillery which wrought great havoc among the freebooters; and at the end of three hours they were in possession of panama. the capture of that city was followed by a general pillage. morgan, who dreaded the consequence of excessive intoxication--especially after his men had suffered such a long abstinence--prohibited them from drinking any wine under the severest penalties. he foresaw that such a prohibition would infallibly be infringed, unless it were sanctioned by an argument far more powerful than the fear of punishment. he therefore caused it to be announced that he had received information that the spaniards had poisoned all their wine. this dexterous falsehood produced the desired effect, and for the first time the freebooters were temperate. the majority of the inhabitants of panama had betaken themselves to flight. they had embarked their women, their riches, all their movables that were of any value and small in bulk, and had sent this valuable cargo to the island of taroga. the men were dispersed over the country, but in sufficiently great numbers to appear formidable to the pirates, whose forces were much diminished, and who could not expect any assistance from abroad. they therefore continued constantly together, and for their greater security, most of them encamped without the walls. we have now reached the time when morgan committed a barbarous and incomprehensible action, concerning which his comrades--some of whom were his historians--have given only a very ambiguous explanation. notwithstanding that all the precious articles had been carried away from panama, there still remained--as in every great european trading city--a vast number of shops, warehouses, and magazines filled with every kind of merchandise. besides a very great quantity of wrought and manufactured articles, the productions of luxury and industry, that city contained immense stores of flour, wine, and spices; vast magazines of that metal which is justly deemed the most valuable of all because it is the most useful: extensive buildings, in which were accumulated prodigious stores of iron tools and implements, anvils and ploughs which had been received from europe and were destined to revive the spanish colonies. some judgment may be formed respecting the value of the last-mentioned articles only when it is considered that a quintal (one hundredweight) of iron was sold at panama for thirty-two piasters (about thirty-three dollars). all these multifarious articles, so essentially necessary for furnishing colonists with the means of subsistence, were, it should seem, of no value in the estimation of the ferocious morgan because he could not carry them away; although, by preserving them, he might have made use of them by demanding a specific ransom for them. circumstances might also enable him to derive some further advantages from them, but, in fact, whatever was distant or uncertain presented no attraction to this barbarian, who was eager to enjoy, but more ardent to destroy. he was struck by one consideration only. all these bulky productions of art and industry were for the moment of no use to the freebooters. of what importance to him was the ruin of many thousand innocent families? he consulted only the ferocity of his character, and without communicating his design to any individual he secretly caused the city to be set on fire in several places. in a few hours it was almost entirely consumed. the spaniards that had remained in panama--as well as the pirates themselves, who were at first ignorant whence the conflagration proceeded--ran together and united their efforts in order to extinguish the flames. they brought water, and pulled down houses, with a view to prevent the further progress of that destructive element. all their exertions were fruitless. a violent wind was blowing, and, in addition to this circumstance, the principal part of the buildings in that city were constructed of wood. its finest houses, together with their valuable furniture, among which was the magnificent palace belonging to the genoese, the churches, convents, courthouse, shops, hospitals, pious foundations, warehouses loaded with sacks of flour, nearly two hundred other warehouses filled with merchandise--all were reduced to ashes! the fire also consumed a great number of animals, horses, mules, and many slaves who had concealed themselves and who were burned alive. a very few houses only escaped the fire, which continued burning upward of four weeks. amid the havoc produced in every quarter by the conflagration, the freebooters did not neglect to pillage as much as they possibly could, by which means they collected a considerable booty. morgan seemed ashamed of his atrocious act; he carefully concealed that he had ever executed it, and gave out that the spaniards themselves had set their city on fire. %struggle of the dutch against france and england% a.d. c.m. davies seldom has any people held out so heroically against overwhelming numbers as did the dutch in . of the various wars during the reign of louis xiv, that which he carried on against holland was one of the most important. by its settlement, at the peace of nimwegen ( - ), the long hostilities between france and holland and their allies were brought to a close, and holland was once more saved from threatened destruction. louis, having invaded the spanish netherlands, had reluctantly consented to the treaty of aix-la-chapelle ( ), by which he retained a small part of the low countries. by insisting on this treaty holland gave deep offence to the french monarch, who in began a war of revenge against the netherlands, where his schemes of large acquisition had been thwarted. his first attempt was to isolate holland, and having purchased the king of sweden, he bribed charles ii of england, uncle of william of orange, to enter into a secret treaty against the netherlands. the principal events of the war are narrated by davies, who shows how the old spirit of the dutch returned to them in this supreme hour of new peril to their liberties. the dutch, though, in defence of their religion and liberties, they had beaten the first soldiers in the world, were never essentially a military nation; and in a long interval of peace, and devotion to the pursuits of commerce, had rendered them quite unfit for warlike enterprises. the army was entirely disorganized; the officers, appointed by the magistrates of the towns on the score of relationship or party adherence, without the slightest regard to their efficiency, were suffered, without fear of punishment, to keep the numbers of their regiments incomplete, in order that they might appropriate the pay of the vacancies; while the men, independent and undisciplined, were allowed to spend their time in the pursuit of some gainful trade or peaceful occupation, instead of practising military exercises. the disputes concerning the appointment of a captain-general had impeded any fresh levies, the recruits refusing to take the oath to the states except in conjunction with the prince of orange, and had induced many of the best and most experienced officers to take service in the french army; the fortifications of the towns were in a dilapidated condition, and no measures had been adopted for the security of the frontier. such was the state to which party spirit had reduced a nation filled with brave, intelligent, and virtuous inhabitants, and governed by statesmen as able and wise as the world ever saw, when the two most powerful sovereigns of europe declared war against her. the manifests were both issued on the same day. that of the king of england is strongly marked by the duplicity which was the distinguishing characteristic both of himself and of his court as then constituted. from the style of the document one might be led to suppose that he was forced into the war with extreme reluctance and regret, and only in consequence of the impossibility of obtaining redress by any other means for the deep injuries he had sustained. he declared that, so far back as the year , his parliament had complained of the wrongs and oppressions exercised by the dutch on his subjects in the east indies, and for which they had refused to make reparation by amicable means. they had openly refused him the honor of the flag, one of the most ancient prerogatives of his crown; had sought to invite the king of france to hostilities against him; and had insulted his person and dignity by the abusive pictures and medals exposed in all their towns. this expression was understood to allude to a medal complained of three years before, and to a portrait of cornelius de witt, in the perspective of which was a representation of the burning of chatham. cornelius de witt being an ex-burgomaster of dordrecht, the council of that town had, with a natural pride, caused this picture to be painted and hung up in the council-chamber. the extreme sensitiveness manifested by charles on this point appeared to the states rather superfluous in a monarch whose own kingdom teemed with the most offensive truths relative to himself and his government. as if determined that the mode of commencing hostilities should be as lawless and unjust as the war itself, the court of england, several days before the declaration was issued, had commanded sir robert holmes to attack the dutch smyrna fleet on its return. while cruising near the isle of wight, holmes met the admiral, sprague, by whom he was informed of the near approach of the vessels; but, anxious to secure to himself the whole of the booty, estimated at near a million and a half of guilders, he suffered sprague to sail away in ignorance of his instructions, and leaving him with no more than nine frigates and three yachts. his covetousness, happily, proved the salvation of the fleet. after a short encounter of two days' duration, holmes was forced to retire, having captured no more than three or four of the more inconsiderable ships, while the remainder gained their harbors in safety. the king of france appeared, by the tenor of his declaration of war, to imagine that his power and dignity entitled him to set at naught alike the natural rights of mankind and the law of nations; it resembled, indeed, rather the threat of a predatory incursion on the part of a barbarian chief than the justification of the taking up of arms by a civilized government. without adducing a single cause of complaint, he satisfied himself with declaring that the conduct of the states had been such as it was not consistent with his glory to endure any longer. if anything, indeed, could justify the arrogant tone assumed by louis, the circumstances in which he found himself would have done so. an army of one hundred twenty thousand, able and well-equipped troops, commanded by condé and turenne, and numbering in its ranks volunteers of the noblest families in france eager to distinguish themselves under the eye of their sovereign; funds lavishly supplied by the able minister of finance, colbert; with vast magazines of ammunition and every other necessary collected, and winter quarters secured in the neighboring and friendly territories of cologne and muenster, seemed means almost absurdly disproportioned in magnitude to the end to be attained. at the same time he was but too well informed of the defenceless condition of the enemy. jan de witt and the states conceived that his first attempt would be upon maestricht, the possession of which he was known to have long coveted, and that the difficulties of its conquest would be sufficient to deter from further enterprise a monarch of whose military prowess no very high idea was entertained, and who was supposed to be far more enamoured of the pomp and circumstance of war than of its toils and dangers. they accordingly fortified and provided maestricht with the utmost care, leaving the frontier towns on the rhine in an utterly inefficient state of defence. aware of this fact, louis commenced his operations on the side of cleves, and, separating his army into four divisions, laid siege simultaneously to as many places. he himself summoned the town of rhynberg, the duke of orleans sat down before orsay, condé was commanded to reduce wesel, and turenne, burick. all surrendered within a week. to give an account of the capture of the towns which followed, would be but to heap example upon example of cowardice or treachery, or--as they are generally found together--both. nothing less than entire unanimity and the most undaunted resolution could have enabled the dutch to resist the overwhelming force employed against them; whereas, the miserable effect of the internal dissensions of the republic had been to destroy for the time all mutual confidence. in some places the garrisons, despising their incapable commanders, refused to act; or the governors, mistrustful of their undisciplined troops, lost all hope of prolonging a defence; in others, the detestation entertained by the magistrates toward the orange party was so great that, preferring to submit to france rather than to a native stadtholder, they hastened to deliver up their towns to the invader; on the other hand, the friends of the house of orange looked not without some complacency on the misfortunes which threatened the state, and which they hoped would reduce it to the necessity of raising the prince to the dignities of his family; while in those places where the catholics were numerous, the populace, under the guidance of the priests, forced both garrisons and governments to open their gates to the sovereign whom they hailed as the restorer of their religion. with scarcely a show of opposition, therefore, louis advanced to the rhine. the drought of the summer was so excessive that this river had become fordable in three places, which, being pointed out to the french by some peasants of guelderland, the king determined on attempting the passage between schenkenschans and arnhem, near the tollhuys, a village and tower about two miles distant from the separation of the branch of the river called the wahal. the prince of orange, who was stationed with about twenty-two thousand men at arnhem, and along the banks of the yssel, instead of concentrating his forces to oppose the passage of the enemy, contented himself with detaching de montbas to guard the betuwe, and to throw succors if requisite into nimwegen. but this general, deeming the troops placed under his command insufficient for the purpose required, abandoned his post. he was arrested and sent to utrecht, but afterward allowed to escape. immediately on the retreat of montbas the prince despatched general wurtz, but still with a vastly inadequate force, to occupy the post at the tollhuys. the french cuirassiers, led on by the counts de guiche and revel, first waded into the ford under the fire of the artillery from the tower, which, however, as there were no more than seventeen men stationed in it, was not very formidable. they were followed by a number of volunteers, and in a short time the whole of the cavalry passed over with trifling loss. the dutch troops, discouraged as well by the unexpectedness of the attempt as by their own inferiority in number, were driven back after a short skirmish. a bridge was then thrown across the river for the infantry, and thus this famous passage was accomplished with comparative ease and safety. as the position of the prince of orange on the yssel, which in consequence of the drought was fordable throughout nearly the whole of its course, was now no longer tenable, he retired to utrecht, abandoning arnhem to the enemy, who soon after received the submission of nimwegen and the whole of guelderland, thiel, and the bommel. in order to put utrecht into a state of defence, the prince considered it necessary to burn down all the suburbs; a measure which, when he proposed to the states of the province, he found them reluctant to comply with. he therefore immediately quitted that city, and with the whole of his forces made a further retreat into holland. thus left wholly unprotected, the states of utrecht conceived that the only resource which remained to them was to mollify the conqueror by a speedy submission; and accordingly, while louis was yet at doesburg, they sent deputies to tender to him the keys of the city and the submission of the whole province. the king shortly after entered utrecht in triumph. while the good-fortune, rather than the arms, of louis subdued guelderland and utrecht, his allies, the bishops of cologne and muenster, found no more vigorous resistance in overyssel. oldenzeel, entschede, and other small towns yielded at once to their summons; deventer, though well garrisoned and amply provided, was surrendered at once by the municipal government, who, by their exhortations and example, induced that of zwol to adopt a like disgraceful course of conduct. the easily acquired spoil was divided among the captors; the king of france, who had furnished a subsidy of troops, placed garrisons in campen and elburg; the archbishop of cologne retained deventer; groll and breevoort being allotted to the bishop of muenster, while zwol was held in common. the troops of these warlike prelates exercised everywhere unbounded license and cruelties. numbers of unhappy families were driven from their homes, and, taking refuge in holland, added to the consternation which prevailed there. this province was now in imminent danger. no barrier remained, as it appeared, to oppose the progress of the enemy; the army of the prince had dwindled to about thirteen thousand men; two of the frontier towns, woerden and oudewater, had solicited safeguards from the invaders; and naarden was surprised by the count of rochefort. had he marched on at once to muyden he might have occupied that town also, a post of immense importance from its situation, as ships going to amsterdam must come within reach of its cannon; and by means of a sluice there, the surrounding country may at any time be inundated. it had been left destitute of a garrison; but, the french commander remaining two or three days inactive at naarden, time was afforded to john maurice of nassau to enter muyden with a strong body of troops, and the chance thus lost was gone forever. amazed at the rapid advances of the invader, and dispirited by the symptoms of daily increasing aversion which the great body of the people manifested to his government, the courage of jan de witt at this crisis so entirely forsook him that he took upon himself the disgrace of being the first to propose to the states of holland that they should implore mercy from the conqueror. the resolution was immediately adopted, and by them proposed to the states-general, where it was passed with the dissentient voice only of zealand, who was of opinion that they should treat simultaneously with england, from whence that province had to apprehend the principal danger. a deputation was accordingly sent to louis, at keppel, near doesburg, headed by de groot, and commissioned to inquire upon what terms his majesty was inclined to grant peace to the republic. they were answered by louvois, that the king was not disposed to restore any of the conquests he had made or to enter into any negotiation unless the deputies were furnished with full powers and instructions as to what the states intended to offer. returning to the hague, de groot made his report to the states of holland, and, representing the desperate condition of their affairs, recommended that louis should be gratified with maestricht and all the other towns of the generality; and that a sum should be offered him to defray the expenses of the war, provided the king would leave them in possession of their liberty and sovereignty. leyden, haarlem, and most of the other towns followed the example of the nobles in receiving these pusillanimous counsels with approbation. amsterdam, however, proved that the spirit of the "gueux" was not yet utterly extinct in holland. prevailing with four towns of north holland to follow their example, the council of amsterdam refused to send deputies to debate upon the question of granting full powers to the ambassadors, and made vigorous preparations for the defence of their city. they repaired the fortifications, and strengthened them with considerable outworks, the magistrates themselves being the first to sacrifice their magnificent country houses in the suburbs for this purpose; they assigned to each of the regiments of burgher guards, who were ten thousand in number, a portion of the city to watch; took into their pay as soldiers all those inhabitants whom the cessation of trade would throw out of employment; stationed outlyers in the y, amstel, zuyder zee, and pampus, and, cutting the dikes, laid the country to a great distance round under water. they likewise passed a resolution that, though all the rest of holland should make terms with the conqueror, they would sustain the siege single-handed till some friendly power should afford them assistance. the causes which combined to expose the united provinces to these terrible disasters by land had, happily, no influence on their affairs by sea. the fleet, commanded by de ruyter, an officer surpassed by none of any age or nation in ability and courage, and of devoted fidelity to the present government, had been increased to ninety-one ships and frigates of war, fifty-four fire-ships, and twenty-three yachts. that of the allies, commanded by the duke of york, comprised after the junction of the french squadron under the count d'etrées, one hundred forty-nine ships-of-war, besides the smaller vessels. sailing in quest of the enemy, de ruyter discovered them lying in solebay, evidently unprepared for his approach. on this occasion was felt the disadvantage of intrusting an officer with the chief command without at the same time giving him sufficient authority to insure its beneficial exercise. in consequence of the presence on board of cornelius de witt, the deputy of the states, de ruyter, instead of ordering an immediate attack, was obliged to call a council of war, and thus gave the english time to arrange themselves in order of battle, which they did with astonishing celerity. the dutch advanced in three squadrons, nearly in a line with each other; the admiral bankert on the left to the attack of the french; van gend on the right, with the purpose of engaging the blue squadron commanded by montague, earl of sandwich; while de ruyter in the middle directed his course toward the red flag of the english, and, pointing with his finger to the duke of york's vessel, said to his pilot, "there is our man." the pilot instantly steered the ship right down upon that of the duke, and a terrific broadside was returned with equal fury. after two hours' incessant firing, the english admiral retreated, his ship being so damaged that he was obliged to transfer his flag on board the london. at the same time braakel, a captain who had signalized himself in the burning of chatham, with a vessel of sixty-two guns, attacked the royal james, of one hundred four guns, the ship of the earl of sandwich, which he boarded and fired. montague, refusing to surrender, was drowned in the attempt to escape in a boat. on the other hand, van gend, the admiral of the squadron engaged with the earl's, was killed in the beginning of the action. the contest was maintained with the daring and steady valor characteristic of both nations, from seven in the morning until nightfall. the french had received instructions to keep aloof from the fight, and allow the two fleets to destroy each other; and these they took care to carry out to the full. thus, the only assistance they afforded to the english was to prevent the dutch squadron engaged in watching their movements from acting, an advantage more than counterbalanced by the discouragement their behavior occasioned among their allies. though both parties claimed the victory, it undoubtedly inclined in favor of the dutch, who sustained a loss somewhat inferior to that of their antagonists, and had the satisfaction, moreover, of preventing a descent upon zealand by the combined fleets, which was to have been the immediate consequence of a defeat. this was, however, attempted about a month after, when the disasters attending the arms of the states by land, having induced them to diminish the number of their ships, de ruyter received commands to remain in the ports and avoid an engagement. the whole of the english fleet appeared in the texel provided with small craft for the purpose of landing. but, by a singular coincidence, it happened that, on the very day fixed for the attempt, the water continued, from some unknown cause, so low as to render it impossible for the vessels to approach the shore, and to impress the people with the idea that the ebb of the tide lasted for the space of twelve hours. immediately after, a violent storm arose, which drove the enemy entirely away from the coasts. the internal condition of the united provinces was at this time such as to incite the combined monarchs, no less than their own successes, to treat them with insolence and oppression. they beheld the inhabitants, instead of uniting with one generous sentiment of patriotism in a firm and strenuous defence of their fatherland, torn by dissensions, and turning against each other the rage which should have been directed against their enemies. the divisions in every province and town were daily becoming wider and more embittered. though both parties had merited an equal share of blame for the present miscarriages, the people imputed them exclusively to the government of jan de witt and his adherents; who, they said, had betrayed and sold the country to france; and this accusation to which their late pusillanimous counsels gave but too strong a color of plausibility, the heads of the orange party, though well aware of its untruth, diligently sustained and propagated. the ministers of the church, always influential and always on the alert, made the pulpits resound with declamations against the treachery and incapacity of the present government as the cause of all the evils under which they groaned; and emphatically pointed to the elevation of the prince of orange to the dignities of his ancestors as the sole remedy now left them. to this measure de witt and his brother were now regarded as the only obstacles; and, so perverted had the state of public feeling become that the most atrocious crimes began to be looked upon as meritorious actions, provided only they tended to the desired object of removing these obnoxious ministers. on one occasion, jan de witt, having been employed at the chamber of the states to a late hour of the night, was returning home attended by a single servant, according to his custom, when he was attacked by four assassins. he defended himself for a considerable time, till having received some severe wounds he fell, and his assailants decamped, leaving him for dead. one only, james van der graaf, was arrested; the other three took refuge in the camp, where, though the states of holland earnestly enjoined the prince of orange and the other generals to use diligent means for their discovery, they remained unmolested till the danger was passed. van der graaf was tried and condemned to death. the pensionary was strongly solicited by his friends to gratify the people by interceding for the pardon of the criminals; but he resolutely refused to adopt any such mode of gaining popularity. impunity, he said, would but increase the number and boldness of such miscreants; nor would he attempt to appease the causeless hatred of the people against him by an act which he considered would tend to endanger the life of every member of the government. the determination, however just, was imprudent. the criminal, an account of whose last moments was published by the minister who attended him, was regarded by the populace as a victim to the vengeance of jan de witt, and a martyr to the good of his country. on the same day a similar attempt was made on the life of his brother, cornelius de witt, at dordrecht, by a like number of assassins, who endeavored to force their way into his house, but were prevented by the interference of a detachment of the burgher guard. cornelius had already, on his return from the fleet in consequence of impaired health, been greeted with the spectacle of his picture, which had given such umbrage to the king of england, cut into strips and stuck about the town, with the head hanging upon the gallows. these symptoms of tumult rapidly increased in violence. a mob assembling, with loud cries of "_oranje boven! de witten onder_!" ("long live the prince of orange! down with the de witts!") surrounded the houses of the members of the council, whom they forced to send for the prince, and to pass an act, repealing the "perpetual edict," declaring him stadtholder, and releasing him from the oath he had taken not to accept that office while he was captain-general. having been signed by all the other members of the council, this act was carried to the house of cornelius de witt, who was confined to his bed by sickness, the populace at the same time surrounding the house and threatening him with death in case of refusal. he long resisted, observing that he had too many balls falling around him lately to fear death, which he would rather suffer than sign that paper; but the prayers and tears of his wife and her threats, that if he delayed compliance she would throw herself and her children among the infuriated populace, in the end overcame his resolution. he added to his signature the letters v.c. _(vi coactus_), but the people, informed by a minister of their purport, obliged him to erase them. similar commotions broke out at rotterdam, haarlem, leyden, amsterdam, and in other towns, both of holland and zealand, where the populace constrained the magistrates by menace and violence to the repeal of the edict. reluctant to have such a measure forced upon them by tumult and sedition, the states of holland and zealand now unanimously passed an act revoking the perpetual edict, and conferring on the prince of orange the dignity of stadtholder, captain, and admiral-general of these provinces. soon afterward cornelius de witt was thrown into prison and put to the torture on a false charge of planning the assassination of the prince of orange. jan de witt visited his brother in his agony, and a mob, bursting into the jail, seized upon both brothers as traitors and murdered them with horrid brutality. from this time the authority of william became almost uncontrolled in the united provinces. most of the leaders of the louvestein party, either convinced of the necessity of his elevation to power in the present emergency or unwilling to encounter the vexation of a fruitless opposition, acquiesced in the present state of things; many were afterward employed by him, and distinguished themselves by fidelity and zeal in his service. the constant coöperation and participation in his views also of the pensionary, fagel, gave him an advantage which none of his predecessors had ever enjoyed; the influence of the pensionaries of holland having hitherto been always opposed, and forming a counterpoise, to that of the stadtholder. unquestionably the dutch, while thus parting with their liberties, reaped in some degree the benefits usually attendant on such a sacrifice, in the increased firmness and activity of a government conducted by a sole responsible head. at the time of the embassy of peter de groot to solicit peace from the king of france, the prince had so far partaken of the general dejection as to ask permission of the states to nominate a deputy to treat of his particular interests; but no sooner was he created stadtholder than he began to adopt bolder and more spirited resolutions for the safety of a country to which he felt himself attached by new and stronger ties. being invited by the assembly of the states to give his opinion on the terms offered by the allied monarchs, he declared that their acceptance would entail upon them certain ruin, and that the very listening to such was pernicious in the highest degree to affairs, as tending to disunite and dispirit the people. he encouraged them to hope for speedy assistance from his allies; pointed out the resources which yet existed for the support of the war; and persuaded them rather to resolve, if they were driven to extremity, to embark on board their vessels and found a new nation in the east indies, than accept the conditions. at the same time he spurned with indignation the flattering proposals made him both by the kings of france and england; for--so singularly are men appointed to work out their own destiny--these monarchs now vied with each other, and were in fact principally instrumental, in exalting the power and dignity of a prince who ere long was to hurl the brother of the one from the throne of his ancestors, and prepare for the other an old age of vexation and disgrace, if not to lay the first foundation of the ruin of his kingdom in the next century. louis, upon the appointment of the prince to the office of stadtholder, was liberal in offers of honor and advantages to his person and family, and among the rest was one which he considered could scarcely fail of its effect; that, namely, of making him sovereign of the provinces under the protection of france and england. william, however, was found wholly immovable on this point, declaring that he would rather retire to his lands in germany, and spend his life in hunting, than sell his country and liberty to france. nor were the dispiriting representations made by the english ambassadors, that holland was utterly lost unless he consented to the terms proposed, at all more influential; "i have thought of a means," he replied, "to avoid beholding the ruin of my country--to die in the last ditch." neither, indeed, was the state of the country, though sufficiently deplorable, such as to leave him no choice but to become the vassal of her haughty enemies. the progress of the invader in holland was effectually arrested by the state of defence into which that province had been put. imitating the noble example set them by amsterdam, the other towns readily opened the sluices of the lek, meuse, yssel, and vecht, inundating by that means the whole of the intervening tracts of land. the dutch army was stationed at the five principal posts of the provinces; prince maurice john being placed at muyden and weesp; field marshal wurtz at gorcum; the count of horn at the goejanverwellen sluys; another detachment occupied woerden; and the prince himself took up his head-quarters at bodergrave and nieuwerburg. at length, finding his army increased by the addition of subsidies from spain to twenty-four thousand men, william determined to infuse new vigor into the public mind by the commencement of offensive hostilities. he first formed the design of surprising naarden and woerden, both of which attempts, however, proved unsuccessful. he then marched toward maestricht, captured and demolished the fort of valckenburg, by which that town was straitened, and, with the view of diverting the force of the enemy by carrying the war into his own territory, advanced to the siege of charleroi. but the middle of winter having already arrived before he commenced the enterprise, he was soon after compelled, by the severity of the weather, to abandon it and retire to holland, which, during his absence, had, from the same cause, been exposed to imminent danger. the duke of luxemburg, who had been left in command of the forces in utrecht on the departure of the king of france, for paris, finding that the ice with which the land-water was covered, was sufficiently strong to bear the passage of cavalry, marched with a strong body of troops to zwammerdam, and thence to bodergrave, both of which were abandoned. the purpose of the french commander was to advance directly upon the hague, and to force the states to acknowledge the sovereignty of the king of france; a measure which would, he conceived, involve the immediate submission of the whole of the provinces. but, happily, his project was defeated by a sudden thaw, which obliged him to return to utrecht; and had it not been that the fort of nieuwerburg, situated on the dike, which afforded the only passage thither, was deserted by the commander, _pain-et-vin_, his retreat must have been cut off, and his army exposed to almost certain destruction. before his departure, luxemburg revenged himself on the luckless villages he had captured, which he pillaged and burned to the ground.[ ] pain-et-vin was afterward tried for breach of duty and executed. [footnote : the accounts given by the dutch historians of the revolting outrages and barbarities exercised by the invaders on this expedition are strenuously denied by the writers on the french side; their conduct in utrecht, however, which we shall have occasion hereafter to notice, affords but too ample evidence that there was some truth in the accusations. on the other hand, that the dutch authors are guilty of exaggeration may be easily believed, since one of them gravely puts into the mouth of the duke of luxemburg the following address to his soldiers: "go, my children, plunder, murder, destroy, and if it be possible to commit yet greater cruelties, be not negligent therein, that i may see i am not deceived in my choice of the flower of the king's troops."] though it might well have been feared that the failure of all the enterprises of the prince of orange would have renewed the discontents lately prevalent in the united provinces, such an effect was in no degree produced. the very boldness of the designs, it seemed, had been the cause of their ill-success, and argued a zeal and activity for the public good which inspired unbounded confidence in his future measures. the appearance of renovated vigor in the united provinces, moreover, encouraged surrounding states to make some demonstrations in their favor. they had wished to see them humbled, but not destroyed. the emperor and princes of germany, in especial, contemplated with dread the prospect of exchanging the neighborhood of the inoffensive and industrious people, who rarely appeared to them in any other light than as the dispensers of abundance, wealth, and luxury, for that of an ambitious and unscrupulous monarch, whose glory was in destruction, and from whose encroachments their boundaries would be for not one moment safe. though deeply imbued with these sentiments, the elector of brandenburg had hitherto been deterred from lending them any assistance, lest, should they be forced to make a peace with the king of france, the whole power and vengeance of that monarch might be directed against himself. he now induced the emperor leopold to enter into an alliance with him, by virtue of which he levied a force of twenty-four thousand men, to be joined with an equal number furnished by himself, for the purpose of opposing the advances of louis. though the secret treaty which the emperor had made with france, binding himself not to afford aid to any member of the triple alliance, and of which the elector was in ignorance, limited the employment of the imperial army strictly to the protection of the empire, and consequently prevented it from marching at once to the support of the provinces, its movement was of considerable advantage to their affairs, in calling off turenne from bois-le-duc, to which he had laid siege, to the defence of the places on the rhine. the bishops of muenster and cologne, also, whom the brave defence of the garrison of groningen had forced to raise the siege, were under the necessity of abandoning both that province and guelderland, and hastening to the protection of their own territories. among the benefits which the dutch anticipated with the utmost confidence as the consequence of the elevation of the prince of orange to his paternal dignities was the appeasing the hostility of his uncle, the king of england. in this, however, they were wholly deceived. on the meeting of parliament in this year, the chancellor, shaftesbury, addressed the two houses in a strain of hostile feeling to the dutch nation, more bitter than the court as yet ventured to express. he represented that, "besides the personal indignities in the way of pictures, medals, and other public affronts which the king received from the states, they came at last to such a height of insolence as to deny him the honor of the flag, though an undoubted jewel of the crown, and disputed the king's title to it in all the courts of europe, making great offers to the french king if he would stand by them in this particular. "but both kings, knowing their own interest, resolved to join against them, who were the common enemies of all monarchies, but especially the english, their only competitor in commerce and naval power, and the chief obstacle to their attainment of the dominion they aimed at, a dominion as universal as that of rome; and so intoxicated were they with that vast ambition that under all their present distress and danger they haughtily rejected every overture for a treaty or a cessation of arms; that the war was a just and necessary measure, advised by the parliament itself from the conviction that, at any rate, _delenda est carthago_--such a government'must be destroyed; and that therefore the king may well say it was their war; which had never been begun, but that the states refused him satisfaction because they believed him to be in so great want of money that they must sit down under any affronts." but the parliament, always disinclined to the war, had now begun to view it with absolute aversion; and though moved, by the king's representations of the embarrassed condition he should be reduced to if the supply were refused, to yield a subsidy of seventy thousand pounds a month for eighteen months, they forced him to pay a high price for their complaisance by extorting his consent to the "test act." by the operation of this act, the duke of york, the inveterate enemy of the dutch, and sir thomas clifford, the minister who had the most zealously pushed forward the business of the war, were forced to resign their offices. with the funds granted him by parliament, charles was enabled to complete the equipment of a fleet, which, when joined to a squadron of french ships under d'estrées, numbered one hundred fifty sail. the prince of orange had wisely continued de ruyter in the command of the fleet as lieutenant-admiral of the provinces, with almost unlimited instructions, and suffered himself to be wholly guided by him in naval affairs, interfering only so far as to reinstate tromp in the office of admiral under the college of amsterdam, and to effect a perfect reconciliation between him and de ruyter--a matter which the placable and magnanimous temper of the latter rendered of easy accomplishment. having failed in a scheme of blocking up the thames by means of sinking vessels in the bed of that river, de ruyter stationed himself at schooneveldt, with the purpose of protecting the coast of zealand against a meditated descent of the enemy. while at anchor he descried the hostile fleet approaching; but a calm, succeeded by rough weather, prevented them for some days from coming to an engagement. the dutch were considerably inferior in strength to the allies, the number of their vessels being no more than fifty-two men-of-war and twelve frigates, of which, moreover, the equipages were, owing to the scarcity of seamen, by no means complete. but this deficiency was more than compensated by the spirit and conduct of their great commander. "the weaker our fleet is," observed de ruyter, in answer to some remark made to him on the subject, "the more confidently i expect a victory, not from our own strength, but from the arm of the almighty." under a favorable breeze, the french and english ships bore down upon their unequal antagonists, in the full expectation that they would avoid the encounter, by retiring behind the sand-banks of flushing. the dutch, however, firmly awaited the shock, commenced by the squadron of french ships, which on this occasion had been placed in the van to avoid the imputation cast upon them in the last battle. they engaged with that of tromp, whose impetuous firing compelled the french admiral to retire for a time; but quickly rallying, he returned to the charge with such vigor that tromp was obliged to remove his flag on four different vessels successively. de ruyter, meanwhile, had engaged the red squadron, commanded by prince rupert, which after a sharp contest he threw into some disorder, and succeeded in cutting off a considerable number of ships from the remainder. instead, however, of pursuing his advantage, de ruyter, becoming aware of the danger of his rival, who was now entirely surrounded by the enemy, hastened to his rescue. on seeing him approach, tromp exclaimed: "comrades, here is our grandsire [a pet name given to de ruyter among the sailors] coming to help us; so long as i live i will never forsake him!" the generous aid was no less effectual than well timed, since the enemy, astonished at his unexpected appearance, fell back. "i am pleased to see," he said, "that our enemies still fear the seven provinces," the name of the vessel which carried his flag. the fight was continued with unremitting obstinacy till darkness separated the combatants, when the dutch found that they had gained about three miles upon their antagonists. that the issue of such a contest should be doubtful was in itself equivalent to a victory on the side of the dutch; a victory of which they reaped all the advantages, as well as the glory, since, besides delivering their coasts from the intended invasion, their loss was so inconsiderable that within a week the fleet was able to put to sea in its original numbers and strength. another engagement, fought with less of energy and resolution on the side of the english than usually distinguished them, terminated in their retreat toward the thames, which, de ruyter conceiving to be a feint to draw the dutch fleet off their coasts, he declined the pursuit. the movement, however, had its origin in a far different cause. the english sailors fully participated in the feelings entertained by the great body of the nation, who viewed the aggrandizement of their ally with jealousy, and the undeserved misfortunes of their enemy with pity, and considered every advantage gained over the dutch as a step toward the completion of the sinister designs they suspected their own sovereign of harboring against their religion and liberties. they accordingly made no concealment of their reluctance to fight longer in such a quarrel. it was now become evident to the government that the only mode of reconciling the people in any degree to the present state of things was the execution of some brilliant achievement which should flatter their national vanity and kindle their ambition or lead to the acquisition of spoil sufficiently considerable to afford some sensible assistance in supporting the war. a descent on holland was therefore resolved on, or, if that were found impracticable, it was proposed to intercept the indian fleet, whose arrival was hourly expected. with this view a formidable fleet of one hundred fifty sail made its appearance in the texel, and was met by de ruyter about five miles from the village of the helder. the dutch, though far inferior in number, having only seventy-five vessels, convinced that this struggle was to be the most desperate and the last, prepared themselves for it as men who had everything at stake. after a short but inspiring harangue, de ruyter gave the signal for attack. as if with a presentiment that long years would elapse before they should again try the strength of each other's arm, the english and dutch seemed mutually determined to leave upon the minds of their foes an ineffaceable impression of their skill and prowess. all the resources which ability could suggest or valor execute were now employed. each admiral engaged with the antagonist against whom it had before been his fortune to contend. de ruyter attached himself to the squadron of prince rupert; tromp attacked sprague, who commanded the blue flag; while bankert was opposed to the french; the latter, however, after a short skirmish on the part of rear admiral martel, who was unacquainted with the secret orders given to the commander, d'estrées, dropped off to a distance; nor could all the signals made by prince rupert induce them to take any further share in the fight. bankert, therefore, joined de ruyter, who was engaged in a terrific contest with the squadron of prince rupert. the firing was kept up for several hours without cessation; the discharges from the cannon of the dutch vessels being, it was said, as rapid as those of musketry, and in proportion of three to one to those of the enemy. tromp, whose actions always reflected more honor on his courage than conduct, separated himself, as was his custom, from the remainder of the fleet, and pressed forward into the midst of the enemy. he had sustained a continued cannonading from the vessel of sprague for upward of three hours, without a single one of his crew being wounded, when de ruyter, who had forced prince rupert to retire, came to his assistance. the prince, on the other side, joined admiral sprague, and the fight was renewed with increased ardor. the vessel of tromp was so damaged that he was obliged to remove his flag on board of another; sprague was reduced to a similar necessity of quitting his ship, the royal prince, for the st. george, which, ere long, was so much disabled that he was obliged to proceed to a third; but the boat in which he was passing being struck by a cannon-ball, sank, and himself and several others were drowned. toward the close of evening one english man-of-war was on fire, and two foundered. not a single ship-of-war was lost on the side of the dutch, but both fleets were so much damaged as to be unable to renew the engagement on the next morning. each side, as usual, returned thanks for the victory, to which, however, the english failed to establish their claim, neither by accomplishing the projected invasion or intercepting the east india fleet, the whole of which, except one vessel, reached the ports in safety. in the more distant quarters of the world the war was carried on with various success. the french captured the ports of trincomalee, in ceylon, and st. thomas, on the coast of coromandel--which were, however, recovered in the next year--and made an unsuccessful attempt on curajao. the english possessed themselves of the island of tobago and seized four merchantmen returning from india. but, on the other hand, the states' admiral, evertson, made himself master of new york, and, attacking the newfoundland ships, took or destroyed no less than sixty-five, and returned to holland laden with booty. the king of france, meanwhile, well satisfied to have secured at so easy a rate a powerful diversion of the forces of holland, and the mutual enfeebling of the two most formidable maritime powers of europe, cared little how the affairs of his ally prospered, so that he had been enabled to pursue the career of his conquests on land. marching in person at the head of his troops he laid siege to maestricht, a town famous for its gallant defence against the duke of parma in , but which now, notwithstanding several brisk and murderous sallies, capitulated in less than a month. with this achievement the campaign of louis ended. the progress of his arms, and the development of his schemes of ambition had now raised him up a phalanx of enemies, such as not even his presumption could venture to despise. he had planned and executed his conquests in full reliance on the cooperation or neutrality of the neighboring powers, and found himself in no condition to retain them in defiance of their actual hostility. he had, from the first, been strongly advised by condé and turenne to destroy the fortifications of the less important towns, retaining so many only of the larger as to insure the subjection of the provinces. he had, however, deemed it more consonant to his "glory" to follow the advice of louvois in preserving all his conquests entire, and had thus been obliged to disperse a large portion of his army into garrisons, leaving the remainder, thinned, moreover, by sickness and desertion, wholly insufficient to make head against the increasing number of his opponents. he therefore came to the mortifying resolution of abandoning the united provinces, the possession of which he had anticipated with so much pride. this auspicious dawn of better fortunes to the provinces was followed by the long and ardently desired peace with england. the circumstances of the last battle, in which, as the english declared, "themselves, and the dutch had been made the gladiators for the french spectators," had more than ever disgusted that nation with the alliance of an ambitious and selfish monarch, who, they perceived, was but gratifying his own rapacity at the expense of their blood and treasure. spain had threatened a rupture with england unless she would consent to a reasonable peace; and even sweden herself had declared, during the conferences at cologne, that she should be constrained to adopt a similar course if the king of france persisted in extending his conquests. should a war with these nations occur, the english saw themselves deprived of the valuable commerce they carried on in their ports, to be transferred, most probably, to the united provinces; in addition to which consideration, their navigation had already sustained excessive injury from the privateering of the zealanders, who had captured, it is said, no less than twenty-seven hundred english merchant-ships. these, and various other causes, had provoked the parliament to use expressions of the highest indignation at the measures of the court, and to a peremptory refusal of further supplies for the war unless the dutch, by their obstinacy in rejecting terms of peace, should render its continuance unavoidable. aware of this disposition, the states had addressed a letter to the king, which, with sufficient adroitness, they had contrived should arrive precisely at the meeting of parliament, offering the king restitution of all the places they had gained during the war, and satisfaction with respect to the flag, or "any other matter they had not already ordered according to his wishes." this communication, received with feelings of extreme irritation by the court, had all the effect intended on the house of commons. it was in vain that the king complained of the personal insults offered him by the dutch; in vain that the chancellor expatiated on their obstinacy, arrogance, and enmity to the english; and that the court party remonstrated against the imprudence of exposing england defenceless to the power of her haughty enemy. the parliament persisted in refusing the solicited supply; voted the standing army a grievance; bitterly complained of the french alliance, and resolved that his majesty should be advised to proceed in a treaty with the states-general, in order to a speedy peace. a few days sufficed to accomplish a treaty; the dutch obviating the principal difficulty by yielding the honor of the flag in the most ample manner. they now agreed that all their ships should lower their topsails and strike the flag upon meeting one or more english vessels bearing the royal standard, within the compass of the four seas, from cape finisterre to staaten in norway, and engaged to pay the king two million guilders for the expenses of the war. shortly after, the bishops of muenster and cologne, alarmed at the probability of being abandoned by the french to the anger of the emperor, who had threatened them with the ban of the empire, consented to a treaty with the united provinces, in virtue of which they restored all the places they had conquered. %discovery of the mississippi% la salle names louisiana a.d. - franÇois xavier garneau[ ] [footnote : translated by andrew bell.] during the early colonization of new france, in the era of count frontenac, a remarkable spirit of adventure and discovery manifested itself in canada among both clerics and laymen. this enterprise, in seeking to open up and colonize the country, indeed, showed itself under each successive governor, from the first settlement of québec, in , down to the fall, in , of the renowned capital on the st. lawrence. in the entailed arduous labor, full as it was of hazard and peril, the pathfinders of empire in the new world, besides laymen, were largely the jesuit missionaries. this spirit of adventure specially began to show itself in the colony at the period when m. talon became intendant, when the government of new france, at the time of louis xiv's minister, colbert, became vested directly in the french crown. through talon's instrumentality the colony revived, and by his large-minded policy its commerce, which had fallen into the hands of a company of monopolists, was in time set free from many of its restrictions. before talon quitted the country, he took steps to extend the dominion of france in the new world toward hudson's bay, and westward, in the direction of the great lakes. in he despatched a royal commissioner to sault ste. marie, at the foot of lake superior, to assemble the indians of the region and induce them to place themselves under the protection, and aid the commerce, of the french king. while thus engaged, the commissioner heard of the mississippi river from the indians; and talon intrusted the task of tracking its waters to father marquette and to m. joliet, a merchant of québec. with infinite toil these two adventurous spirits reached the great river they were in search of, and explored it as far south as the arkansas. here unfriendly indian tribes compelled them to return, without being permitted to trace the mighty stream to its outlet. this, however, is supposed to have been accomplished, in , by robert cavalier, sieur de la salle, a daring young frenchman, who descended the mississippi, it is currently believed, to the gulf of mexico, naming the whole region louisiana, in honor of louis xiv. whether la salle actually explored the great river to its mouth is, among historians, still a moot point. it is supposed that early in his adventures he retraced his steps and returned to canada, where, as well as in france, he had numerous detractors, among whom was de la barre, the then governor of new france. it is known that he was soon again in québec, to meet his enemies, which he did successfully, after which he proceeded to france. here he was royally received by the king, and, as a proof of the monarch's confidence in him, la salle was intrusted with the command of a colonizing expedition which was sent to louisiana by sea. this expedition never reached its destination, for differences with the commander of the vessels (beaujeu) interfered with the direction of the expedition. the mouths of the mississippi, it seems, were passed, and the ships reached the coast of texas. disaster now dogged the leader's footsteps, for beaujeu ran one of the ships on the rocks, and then deserted with another. la salle and some of his more trusty followers were left to their fate, which was a cruel one, for disease broke out in the ranks, and famine and savage foes made havoc among the survivors. his colony being reduced to forty persons, la salle set out overland with sixteen men for canada to procure recruits. on the way his companions mutinied, put la salle to death, and but a handful of the party reached canada, the remainder perishing in the wilderness. were we to express in the briefest of terms the motives which induced the leading european races of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries who came to the americas, we should say that the spaniards went thither in quest of gold, the english for the sake of enjoying civil and religious freedom, the french in view of propagating the gospel among the aborigines. accordingly, we find, from the beginning, in the annals of new france, religious interests overlying all others. the members of the society of jesus, becoming discredited among the nations of europe for their subserviency to power--usually exalting the rights of kings, but at all times inculcating submission, both by kings and their subjects, to the roman pontiffs--individual jesuits, we say, whatever may have been their demerits as members of the confraternity in europe or in south america, did much to redeem these by their apostolic labors in the wilderness of the northern continent; cheerfully encountering, as they did, every form of suffering, braving the cruelest tortures, and even welcoming death as the expected seal of their martyrdom for the cause of christ and for the advancement of civilization among barbarous nations. from québec as a centre-point the missionary lines of the jesuit fathers radiated in all directions through every region inhabited by our savages, from the laurentian valley to the hudson's bay territory, along the great-lake countries, and down the valley of the mississippi. scantily equipped, as it seemed to the worldly eye, with a breviary around the neck and a crucifix in hand, the missionary set forth, and became a pioneer for the most adventurous secular explorers of the desert. to such our forefathers owed their best earliest knowledge of vast regions, to whose savage inhabitants they imparted the glad tidings of the gospel, and smoothed the way for native alliances with their compatriots of the laity, of the greatest after-import to the colony. such devotedness, at once heroic and humble, could not but confound worldly philosophy, while it has gained for the members of the order the admiration of many protestants. thus we have the candid testimony of bancroft, the able historian of the english plantations in this continent, that "the annals of missionary labors are inseparably connected with the origin of all the establishments of french america. not a cape was doubled nor a stream discovered that a jesuit did not show the way." on the other hand, there were instances where secular explorers, seeking to illustrate their names by great discoveries or to enrich themselves by traffic, opened a way for the after-labors of the missionary. the most celebrated of such were champlain, nicolet, perrot, joliet, la salle, and la verendrye. in regions south of the st. lawrence, père druillettes was the first european who passed overland from that river to the eastern atlantic seaboard, ascending the chaudifere and descending the kennebec in . he did good service to the colony by preserving for it the amity of that brave nation, the only one which the iroquois were slow to attack. in another direction, the traffickers and missionaries, constantly moving onward toward the sources of the st. lawrence, had reached the upper extremity of lake huron. pères brébeuf, daniel, lalemant, jogues, and raimbault founded in the regions around its waters the christianized settlements (_villages_) of st. joseph, st. michel, st. ignace, and ste. marie. the last-named, seated at the point where lake huron communicates with lake erie, was long the central point of the northwestern missions. in jean nicholet, following the course of a river flowing out of lake michigan at green bay, was led within three days' navigation of "the great water," such was the distinctive name the aborigines gave to the mississippi. in the relics of the huron tribes, tired of wandering from forest to forest, settled down in michilimackinac, at the end of lake superior, under the care of père marquette, who thus became the earliest founder of a european settlement in michigan. the natives of the vicinity were of the algonquin race; but the french called them _sauteurs_, from their being near to sault ste. marie. between the years and communication with the region was little attempted, the hostile feeling of the iroquois making the navigation of lake ontario perilous to adventurers, and obliging them to pass to and from the western mission field by the valley of the ottawa. the neuters' territory, visited by champlain, and the southern lakeboard of erie beyond buffalo, were as yet almost unknown. the new impulse which had been given to canada by colbert and talon began to bear fruit. commerce revived, immigration increased, and the aborigines, dominated by the genius of civilization, feared and respected everywhere the power of france. perrot, a famous explorer, was the first european who reached the end of lake michigan and the miâmis country, where deputies from all the native tribes of the regions irrigated by the head waters of the mississippi, the sources of the red river and the st. lawrence, responded to his call to meet him at the sault ste. marie, from one discovery to another, as so many successive stages in a journey, the french attained a certainty that "the great water" did exist, and they could, in advance, trace its probable course. it appeared certain, from the recent search made for it in northerly and eastern directions, that its waters, so voluminous as the natives asserted, must at last find their sea-vent either in the bay of mexico or in the pacific ocean. talon, who took a strong interest in the subject, during his intendancy recommended captain poulet, a skilful mariner of dieppe, to verify the passage from sea to sea, through the straits of magellan. he induced m. de frontenac to send m. joliet into the region where the great stream, yet unseen, must take its rise; and follow its course, if found, till its waters reached the sea. the person thus employed on a mission which interested everyone at the time was a man of talent, educated in the jesuits' college of québec, probably in view of entering the church, but who had gone into the peltry trade. he had travelled much in the countries around lake superior and gained great experience of the natives, especially those of the ottawa tribes. m. joliet and père marquette set out together in the year . the latter, who had lived among the potowatami indians as a missionary, and gained their affections, was forewarned by them of the perils, they alleged, which would beset his steps in so daring an enterprise, admonishing him and his companion that the people of the farther countries would allow no stranger to pass through them; that travellers were always pillaged at the least; that the great river swarmed with monsters who devoured men,[ ] and that the climate was so hot that human flesh could not endure it. [footnote : there was some foundation for this report, as alligators abounded, at that time, in the lower waters of the river.] having progressed to the farthest horde, over the fox river, where père allouez was known, and the extremest point yet touched by any european, the adventurers found the people of the divers tribes living together in harmony; viz., the kikapoos, mascoutins, and miâmis. they accorded the strangers a kind reception and furnished guides to direct the party, which was composed of nine persons in all--joliet, marquette, with five other whites, and two natives. on june th they set out, bearing two light canoes on their shoulders for crossing the narrow portage which separates the fox river from that of wisconsin, where the latter, after following a southerly, takes a western, course. here their indian guides left them, fearing to go farther. arrived at the lower wisconsin they embarked and glided down the stream, which led the travellers through a solitude; they remarking that the levels around them presented an unbroken expanse of luxuriant herbage or forests of lofty trees. their progress was slow, for it was not till the tenth day that they attained the confluence of the wisconsin and mississippi. but the goal was surely, if tardily, attained. they were now floating on the bosom of the "father of waters," a fact they at once felt assured of, and fairly committed themselves to the course of the doubled current. this event constituted an epoch in american annals. "the two canoes," says bancroft, "with sails outspread under a new sky, sped their way, impelled by favoring breezes, along the surface of the calm and majestic ocean tributary. at one time the french adventurers glided along sand-banks, the resting-places of innumerable aquatic birds; at others they passed around wooded islands in midflood; and otherwhiles, again, their course lay through the vast plains of illinois and iowa, covered with magnificent woods or dotted with clumps of bush scattered about limitless prairie lands." it was not till the voyagers had descended sixty leagues of the great stream that they discovered any signs of the presence of man; but at length, observing on the right bank of the river a foot-track, they followed it for six miles, and arrived at a horde _(bourgade),_ situated on a river called by the natives moingona, an appellation afterward corrupted into "rivière des moines." seeing no one, the visitors hollowed lustily, and four old men answered the call, bearing in hand the calumet of peace. "we are illinois," said the indians: "you are our fellow-men; we bid you welcome." they had never before seen any whites, but had heard mention of the french, and long wished to form an alliance with them against the iroquois, whose hostile excursions extended even to their country. they were glad to hear from joliet that the colonists had lately chastised those whom no others could vanquish, and feasted the visitors, to manifest their gratitude as well as respect. the chief of the tribe, with some hundreds of his warriors, escorted the party to their canoes; and, as a mark of parting esteem, he presented a calumet, ornamented with feathers of various colors; a safe-conduct this, held inviolable among the aborigines. the voyagers, again on their way, were forewarned of the confluence of the missouri with the main stream, by the noise of its discharging waters. forty leagues lower, they reached the influx of the ohio, in the territory of the chouanows. by degrees the region they traversed changed its aspect. instead of vast prairies, the voyagers only saw thick forests around them, inhabited by savages whose language was to them unknown. in quitting the southern line of the ohio, they left the algonquin family of aborigines behind, and had come upon a region of nomads, the chickasaw nation being here denizens of the forest. the dacotas, or sioux, frequented the riverain lands, in the southern region watered by the great flood. thus interpreters were needed by the natives, who wished to parley from either bank of the mississippi, each speaking one of two mother-tongues, both distinct from those of the hurons and algonquins, much of the latter being familiar to joliet and others of the party. continuing their descent, the confluence of the arkansas with the mississippi was attained. the voyagers were now under the thirty-third parallel of north latitude, at a point of the river-course reported to have been previously reached, from the opposite direction, by the celebrated spanish mariner de soto. here the illinois chief's present stood the party in good stead, for on exhibiting his ornate calumet they were treated with profuse kindness. bread, made of maize, was offered by the chief of the horde located at the mouth of the arkansas river. hatchet-heads of steel, in use by the natives, gave intimation that they traded with europeans, and that the spanish settlements on the bay of mexico were probably not far off. the waxing summer heats, too, gave natural corroboration to the same inferences. the party had now, in fact, attained to a region without a winter, unless as such be reckoned that part of its year known as "the rainy season." it now became expedient to call a halt, for the stored provisions were beginning to fail, and chance supplies could not be depended upon in such a wilderness as the bold adventurers had already traversed; and they were still more uncertain as to what treatment they might receive from savage populations if they proceeded farther. one thing was made plain to their perceptions: the mississippi afforded no passage to the east indian seas. they rightly concluded, also, that it found its sea outlet in the bay of mexico, not the pacific ocean. they had therefore now done enough to entitle them to the grateful thanks of their compatriots, and for the names of their two leaders to take a permanent place in the annals of geographical discovery. the task of ascending the great river must have been arduous, and the return voyage protracted. arrived at the point where it is joined by the illinois, they left it for that stream, which, ascending for a part of its lower course, père marquette elected to remain with the natives of tribes located near to its banks; while m. joliet, with the rest of the party, passed overland to chicago. thence he proceeded to québec, and reported his proceedings to the governor, m. talon at that time being in france. this duty he had to perform orally, having lost all his papers when shooting the rapids of the st. lawrence, above montreal. he afterward drew up a written report, with a tracing of his route, from memory. the encouragement the intendant procured for the enterprise fairly entitles him to share its glory with those who so ably carried it out; for we cannot attach too much honor to the memory of statesmen who turn to account their opportunities of patronizing useful adventure. m. joliet received in property the island of anticosti as a reward for his western discoveries and for an exploratory voyage he made to hudson's bay. he was also nominated hydrographer-royal, and got enfeoffed in a seigniory near montreal. expecting to reap great advantage from anticosti as a fishing and fur-trading station, he built a fort thereon; but after living some time on the island with his family, he was obliged to abandon it. his patronymic was adopted as the name of a mountain situated near the rivère des plaines, a tributary of the illinois; and joliet is also the appellation, given in his honor, of a town near chicago. père marquette proceeded to green bay by lake michigan, in ; but he returned soon afterward and resumed his missionary labors among the illinois indians. being then at war with the miâmis, they came to him asking for gunpowder. "i have come among you," said the apostolic priest, "not to aid you to destroy your enemies' bodies, but to help you to save your own souls. gunpowder i cannot give you, but my prayers you can have for your conversion to that religion which gives glory to god in the highest and on earth peace to all men." upon one occasion he preached before two thousand warriors of their nation, besides the women and children present. his bodily powers, however, were now wellnigh exhausted. he decided to return to mackinac; but while coasting the lower shores of lake michigan, feeling that his supreme hour was nigh, he caused the people in his canoe to set him ashore. having obtained for him the shelter of a hut formed of branches, he there died the death of the righteous. his companions interred his remains near the river which yet bears his name, and set up a crucifix to mark the spot. thus ended, amid the solitudes of the western wilderness, the valuable existence of one whose name, too little known to his own age, will be remembered when hundreds of those which, however loudly sounded in the present, shall have passed into utter oblivion.[ ] [footnote : guérin observes that, according to some authorities, la salle, some time between the years and , descended the mississippi, as far as the arkansas, by the river ohio. there can be no doubt that the story is a mere figment.] the news of the discovery of the mississippi made a great sensation in canada, and eclipsed for a time the interest attaching to other explorations of the age, which were becoming more and more rife every year. every speculative mind was set to work, as was usual on such occasions, to calculate the material advantages which might result, first to the colonists, and next to their mother-country, from access being obtained to a second gigantic waterway through the territories of new france; serving, as it virtually might in times to come, as a complement, or completing moiety for the former, enabling the colonists to have the command of two seas. still, as the gulf of mexico had not been reached by the adventurers upon the present occasion, some persons had their doubts about the real course of the lower flood. there was therefore still in store credit for those who should succeed in clearing up whatever uncertainty there might be about a matter so important. "new france," says raynal, "had among its people a norman named robert cavalier de la salle, a man inspired with the double passion of amassing a large fortune and gaining an illustrious name. this person had acquired, under the training of the jesuits, among whom his youth was passed, activity, enthusiasm, firmness of character, and high-heartedness--qualities which that celebrated confraternity knew so well to discern and cultivate in promising natures committed to their care. their most audacious and enterprising pupil, la salle, was especially impatient to seize every occasion that chance presented for distinguishing himself, and ready to create such opportunities if none occurred." he had been resident some years in canada when joliet returned from his expedition to the mississippi. the effect of so promising a discovery, upon such a mind as la salle's, was of the most awakening kind. joliet's report of what he experienced, and his shrewd conjectures as to what he did not see but which doubtless existed, well meditated upon by his fellow-genius, inspired the latter to form a vast design of exploration and traffic conjoined, in realizing which he determined to hazard both his fortunes and reputation. cavalier sieur de la salle was born in rouen, and the son of respectable parents. while yet a young man he came to canada full of a project he had conceived of seeking a road to japan and china by a northern or western passage, but did not bring with him the pecuniary means needful even to make the attempt. he set about making friends for himself in the colony, and succeeded in finding favor with the count de frontenac, who discerned in him qualities somewhat akin to his own. with the aid of m. de courcelles and talon he opened a factory for the fur traffic at lachine, near montreal, a name which (_china_) he gave to the place in allusion to the oriental goal toward which his hopes tended as an explorer. in the way of trade he visited lakes ontario and erie. while the canadians were yet excited about the discovery of the mississippi, he imparted his aspirations regarding it to the governor-general. he said that, by ascending, instead of descending, that great stream, a means might be found for reaching the pacific ocean; but that the outlay attending the enterprise could only be defrayed by combining with it an extended traffic with the nations of the west; that he would gladly make the attempt himself if a trading-post were erected for his use at the foot of lake ontario, as a basis for his operations, with an exclusive license to traffic in the western countries. the governor gave him the command of fort frontenac, to begin with. obtaining, also, his recommendations to the court, la salle sailed for france in , and gained all he wanted from the marquis de seignelai, son and successor of the great colbert as minister of marine. the king bestowed on la salle the seigniory of cataraqui (kingston) and ennobled him. this seigniory included fort frontenac, of which he was made the proprietor, as well as of lake ontario; conditioned, however, that he was to reconstruct the fort in stone. his majesty also invested him with all needful credentials for beginning and continuing his discoveries. la salle, on his return to canada, actively set about aggrandizing his new possession. several colonists and some of the natives repaired to the locality, and settled under protection of his fort. he built in its vicinity three decked vessels--the first ever seen upon lake ontario. in he visited france again, in quest of aid to carry out his plans. colbert and seignelai got him a royal commission as recognized explorer of northwest america, with permission to erect fortified posts therein at his discretion. he found a potent protector, also, in the prince de conti. la salle, full of hope, sailed from la rochelle in summer, , with thirty seamen and artisans, his vessel freighted with equipments for his lake craft, and merchandise for barter with the aborigines. a brave officer, chevalier de tonti, went with him, proposing to share his fortunes. arrived at cataraqui, his energy put all his workpeople in activity. on november th he set sail from fort frontenac in one of his barks, loaded with goods and materials for constructing a second fort and a brigantine at niagara. when he reached the head of lake ontario, his vessel excited the admiration of the savages; while the falls of niagara no less raised the wonder of the french. neither had before seen the former so great a triumph of human art; nor the latter, so overpowering a spectacle of nature. la salle set about founding his proposed stronghold at niagara; but the natives, as soon as the defensive works began to take shape, demurred to their being continued. not caring to dispute the matter with them, he gave his erections the form of a palisaded storehouse merely. during winter following, he laid the keel of a vessel on the stocks, at a place some six miles above the falls. his activity redoubled as his operations progressed. he sent on his friend tonti with the famous récollet, père hennepin, to seek out several men whom he had despatched as forerunners, in autumn preceding, to open up a traffic he intended to carry on with the aborigines of the west. in person he visited the iroquois and several other nations, with whom he wished to form trading relations. he has the honor of founding the town of niagara. the vessel he there built he called the griffin, because, said he, "the griffin has right of mastery over the ravens": an allusion, as was said, to his hope of overcoming all his ill-willers, who were numerous.[ ] be this as it may, the griffin was launched in midsummer, , under a salute of cannon, with a chanting of _te deum_ and shouts from the colonists; the natives present setting up yells of wonder, hailing the french as so many _otkou_ (or "men of a contriving mind"). [footnote : some authors say that he named his vessel the griffin in honor of the frontenacs, the supporters in whose family coat-of-arms were two griffins. where all is so uncertain in an important matter, a third suggestion may be as near the mark as the first two. as the norse or norman sea-kings bore the raven for a standard, perhaps la salle adopted the raven's master-symbol, in right of a hoped-for sovereignty over the american lakes.] on august th the griffin, equipped with seven guns and loaded with small arms and goods, entered lake erie; when la salle started for detroit, which he reached in safety after a few days' sail. he gave to the expansion of the channel between lakes erie and huron the name of lake ste. claire, traversing which, on august d he entered lake huron. five days later he reached michilimackinac, after having encountered a violent storm, such as are not unfrequent in that locality. the aborigines of the country were not less moved than those of niagara had been, at the appearance of the griffin; an apparition rendered terrible as well as puzzling when the sound of her cannon boomed along the lake and reverberated from its shores. on attaining to the chapel of the ottawa tribe, at the mission station, he landed and attended mass. continuing his voyage, some time in september he reached the baie des puants, on the western lake board of michigan, where he cast anchor. so far the first ship navigation of the great canadian lakes had been a triumph; but the end was not yet, and it proved to be disastrous, for la salle, hearing that his creditors had in his absence confiscated his possessions, despatched the griffin, loaded with peltry, to niagara, probably in view of redeeming them; but his vessel and goods were totally lost on the way. meanwhile he started, with a trading-party of thirty men of different callings, bearing arms and merchandise. passing to st. joseph's, at the lower end of lake michigan, whither he had ordered that the griffin should proceed on her proposed second voyage from niagara, he laid the foundations of a fort on the crest of a steep height, washed on two sides by the river of the miâmis, and defended on another side by a deep ravine. he set buoys at the entrance of the stream for the direction of the crew of the anxiously expected vessel, upon whose safety depended in part the continuation of his enterprises; sending on some skilful hands to michilimackinac to pilot her on the lake. the vessel not appearing, and winter being near, he set out for the country of the illinois indians, leaving a few men in charge of the fort, and taking with him the missionaries gabriel, hennepin, and zenobe, also some private men; tonti, who was likewise of the party, having rejoined his principal, but without the men he was sent to seek, as he could not find them. the expedition, thus constituted, arrived toward the close of december at a deserted native village situated near the source of the illinois river, in the canton which still bears la salle's name. without stopping here he descended that stream as far as lake peoria--called by hennepin, "pimiteoui"--on the margin of which he found encamped a numerous body of the illinois. these indians, though naturally gentle, yet turned unfriendly regards at first on the party, but, soon recovering from surprise at the appearance of the french, treated them with great hospitality; one of their attentions to the supposed wants of the visitors being to rub their wearied legs with bear's-grease and buffalo fat. these friendly people were glad to learn that la salle meant to form establishments in their country. like the huron savages of champlain's time, the illinois, harassed as they were by the iroquois, trusted that the french would protect them in future. the visitors remarked that the illinois formed the sides of their huts with mats of flat reeds, lined and sewed together. all those the party saw were tall, robust in body, and dexterous with the bow. but the nation has been stigmatized by some early reporters as cowardly, lazy, debauched, and without respect for their chiefs. la salle's people, hearing no mention of his ship all this while, began first to murmur, and then to leave him: six of them deserted in one night. in other respects events occurred ominous of evil for the termination of the enterprise. to occupy the attention of his companions, and prevent them from brooding on apprehended ills, as well as to guard them against a surprise by any hostile natives, he set them on erecting a fort upon an eminence, at a place four days' journey distant from lake peoria; which, when finished, he named breakheart (_crèvecoeur_), in allusion to the mental sufferings he then endured. to put an end to an intolerable state of suspense, in his own case he resolved to set out on foot for frontenac, four hundred or five hundred leagues distant--hoping there to obtain good news about the griffin; also in order to obtain equipments for a new bark, then in course of construction at crèvecoeur, in which he meant to embark upon his return thither, intending to descend the mississippi to its embouchure. he charged père hennepin to trace the downward course of the illinois to its junction with the mississippi, then to ascend the former as high as possible and examine the territories through which its upper waters flow. after making tonti captain of the fort in his absence, he set out, march , , armed with a musket, and accompanied by three or four whites and one indian.[ ] [footnote : charlevoix, by following the relation attributed to tonti, has fallen into some obvious errors respecting la salle's expedition to the illinois river. hennepin, an ocular witness, is assuredly the best authority, corroborated, as his narration is, by the relation and letters of père zenobe mambrè.] père hennepin, who left two days before, descended the illinois to the mississippi, made several excursions in the region around their confluence; then ascended the latter to a point beyond the sault st. antony, where he was detained for some months by sioux indians, who only let him go on his promise to return to them next year. one of the chiefs traced on a scrap of paper the route he desired to follow; and this rude but correct chart, says hennepin, "served us truly as a compass." by following the wisconsin, which falls into the mississippi, and fox river, when running in the opposite direction, he reached lake michigan mission station, passing through, intermediately, vast and interesting countries. such was the famous expedition of hennepin; who, on his return, was not a little surprised to find a company of fur-traders near the wisconsin river, led by one de luth, who had probably preceded him in visiting that remote region. while hennepin was exploring the upper valley of the mississippi, la salle's interests were getting from bad to worse at crèvecoeur. but, for rightly understanding the events which at last obliged him to abandon that post, it is necessary to explain the state of his affairs in canada, and to advert to the jealousies which other traffickers cherished regarding his monopolizing projects in the western regions of the continent. he came to the colony, as we have seen, a fortuneless adventurer--highly recommended, indeed; while the special protection he obtained from the governor, with the titular and more solid favors he obtained at court, made him a competitor to all other commercialists, whom it was impossible to contend with directly. underhand means of opposition, therefore--and these not always the fairest--were put in play to damage his interests and, if possible, effect his ruin. for instance, feuds were stirred up against him among the savage tribes, and inducements held out to his own people to desert him. they even induced the iroquois and the miâmis to take up arms against the illinois, his allies. besides this hostility to him within new france, he had to face the opposition of the anglo-american colonists, who resisted the realization of his projects, for nationally selfish reasons. thus they encouraged the iroquois to attack la salle's indian allied connections of the mississippi valley; a measure which greatly increased the difficulties of a position already almost untenable. in a word, the odds against him became too great; and he was constrained to retire from the high game he wished to play out, which, indeed, was certainly to the disadvantage of individuals, if tending to enhance the importance of the colony as a possession of france. la salle's ever-trusty lieutenant, the chevalier de tonti, meanwhile did all he could, at crèvecoeur, to engage the illinois to stand firm to their engagements with his principal. having learned that the miâmis intended to join the iroquois in opposition to them, he hastened to teach the use of fire-arms to those who remained faithful, to put the latter on a footing of equality with these two nations, who were now furnished with the like implements of war. he also showed them how to fortify their hordes with palisades. but while in the act of erecting fort louis, near the sources of the river illinois, most of the garrison at crèvecoeur mutinied and deserted, after pillaging the stores of provision and ammunition there laid up. at this crisis of la salle's affairs ( ) armed bands of the iroquois suddenly appeared in the illinois territory and produced a panic among its timid inhabitants. tonti, acting with spirit and decision as their ally, now intervened, and enforced upon the iroquois a truce for the illinois; but the former, on ascertaining the paucity of his means, recommenced hostilities. attacking the fort, they murdered père gabriel, disinterred the dead, and wasted the cultivated land of the french residents. the illinois dispersed in all directions, leaving the latter isolated among their enemies. tonti, who had at last but five men under his orders, also fled the country. while the chevalier, in his passage from crèvecoeur, was descending the north side of lake michigan, la salle was moving along its southern side with a reënforcement of men, and rigging for the bark he left in course of construction at the above-named post, where, having arrived, he had the mortification to find it devastated and deserted. he made no attempt to refound it, but passed the rest of the year in excursions over the neighboring territories, in which he visited a great number of tribes; among them the outagamis and miâmis, whom he persuaded to renounce an alliance they had formed with the iroquois. soon afterward he returned to montreal, taking frontenac on his way. although his pecuniary losses had been great, he was still able to compound with his creditors, to whom he conceded his own sole rights of trade in the western countries, they in return advancing moneys to enable him to prosecute his future explorations. having got all things ready for the crowning expedition he had long meditated, he set out with tonti, père mambré, also some french and native followers, and directed his course toward the mississippi, which river he reached february , . the mildness of the climate in that latitude, and the beauties of the country, which increased as he proceeded, seemed to give new life to his hopes of finally obtaining profit and glory.[ ] in descending the majestic stream, he recognized the arkansas and other riverain tribes visited by marquette; he traversed the territories of many other native nations, including the chickasaws, the taensas, the chactas, and the natchez--the last of these rendered so celebrated, in times near our own, by the genius of chateaubriand. [footnote : "a vessel loaded with merchandise belonging to la salle, valued at , livres, had just been lost in the gulf of st. lawrence; several canoes, also loaded with his goods, were lost in the rapids of the same river. on learning these new misfortunes [in addition to others, of his enemies' procuring], he said it seemed to him that all canada had risen up against his enterprises, with the single individual exception of the governor-general. he asserted that the subordinates, whom he had brought from france, had been tempted to quit his service by rival traders, and that they had gone to the new netherlands with the goods he had intrusted to their care; and as for the canadians in his hire, his enemies had found means to detach them, also, from his interests."--yet, "under the pressure of all his misfortunes," says a missionary, "i have never remarked the least change in him; no ill news seemed to disturb his usual equanimity: they seemed rather to spur him on to fresh efforts to retrieve his fortunes, and to make greater discoveries than he had yet effected."] halting often in his descent to note the outlets of the many streams tributary to the all-absorbing mississippi, among others the missouri and the ohio--at the embouchure of the latter erecting a fort--he did not reach the ocean mouths of the "father of waters" till april th, that brightest day of his eventful life. with elated heart, he took formal possession of the country--eminently in the name of the reigning sovereign of france; as he gave to it, at the same time, the distinctive appellation of louisiana. thus was completed the discovery and exploration of the mississippi, from the sault st. antony to the sea; a line more than six hundred leagues in length. %king philip's war% a.d. richard hildreth this was the most extensive and most important of the indian wars of the early european settlers in north america. it led to the practical extermination of the red men in new england. various policies toward the natives were pursued by different colonists in different parts of the country. in new england the first white settlers found themselves in contact with several powerful tribes, chief among which were the mohegans, the narragansetts, and the pequots. some attempt was made to convert and civilize these savages, but it was not long before the english colonists were at war with the pequots, the most dreaded of the tribes in southern new england. this contest( - ) was mainly carried on for the colonists by the settlers of connecticut. it resulted in the almost complete extermination of the pequot tribe. after the union of the new england colonies ( ), formed principally for common defence against the natives, there was no considerable conflict between whites and indians until the outbreak of king philip's war, here described by hildreth. except in the destruction of the pequots, the native tribes of new england had as yet undergone no very material diminution. the pokanokets or wampanoags, though somewhat curtailed in their limits, still occupied the eastern shore of narragansett bay. the narragansetts still possessed the western shore. there were several scattered tribes in various parts of connecticut; though, with the exception of some small reservations, they had already ceded all their lands. uncas, the mohegan chief, was now an old man. the pawtucket or pennacook confederacy continued to occupy the falls of the merrimac and the heads of the piscataqua. their old sachem, passaconaway, regarded the colonists with awe and veneration. in the interior of massachusetts and along the connecticut were several other less noted tribes. the indians of maine and the region eastward possessed their ancient haunts undisturbed; but their intercourse was principally with the french, to whom, since the late peace with france, acadia had been again yielded up. the new england indians were occasionally annoyed by war parties of mohawks; but, by the intervention of massachusetts, a peace had recently been concluded. efforts for the conversion and civilization of the indians were still continued by eliot and his coadjutors, supported by the funds of the english society. in massachusetts there were fourteen feeble villages of these praying indians, and a few more in plymouth colony. the whole number in new england was about thirty-six hundred, but of these near one-half inhabited the islands of nantucket and martha's vineyard. a strict hand was held by massachusetts over the narragansetts and other subject tribes, contracting their limits by repeated cessions, not always entirely voluntary. the wampanoags, within the jurisdiction of plymouth, experienced similar treatment. by successive sales of parts of their territory, they were now shut up, as it were, in the necks or peninsulas formed by the northern and eastern branches of narragansett bay, the same territory now constituting the continental eastern portion of rhode island. though always at peace with the colonists, the wampanoags had not always escaped suspicion. the increase of the settlements around them, and the progressive curtailment of their limits, aroused their jealousy. they were galled, also, by the feudal superiority, similar to that of massachusetts over her dependent tribes, claimed by plymouth on the strength of certain alleged former submissions. none felt this assumption more keenly than pometacom, head chief of the wampanoags, better known among the colonists as king philip of mount hope, nephew and successor of that massasoit, who had welcomed the pilgrims to plymouth. suspected of hostile designs, he had been compelled to deliver up his fire-arms and to enter into certain stipulations. these stipulations he was accused of not fulfilling; and nothing but the interposition of the massachusetts magistrates, to whom philip appealed, prevented plymouth from making war upon him. he was sentenced instead to pay a heavy fine and to acknowledge the unconditional supremacy of that colony. a praying indian, who had been educated at cambridge and employed as a teacher, upon some misdemeanor had fled to philip, who took him into service as a sort of secretary. being persuaded to return again to his former employment, this indian accused philip anew of being engaged in a secret hostile plot. in accordance with indian ideas, the treacherous informer was waylaid and killed. three of philip's men, suspected of having killed him, were arrested by the plymouth authorities, and, in accordance with english ideas, were tried for murder by a jury half english, half indians, convicted upon very slender evidence, and hanged. philip retaliated by plundering the houses nearest mount hope. presently he attacked swanzey, and killed several of the inhabitants. plymouth took measures for raising a military force. the neighboring colonies were sent to for assistance. thus, by the impulse of suspicion on the one side and passion on the other, new england became suddenly engaged in a war very disastrous to the colonists and utterly ruinous to the native tribes. the lust of gain, in spite of all laws to prevent it, had partially furnished the indians with fire-arms, and they were now far more formidable enemies than they had been in the days of the pequots. of this the colonists hardly seem to have thought. now, as then, confident of their superiority, and comparing themselves to the lord's chosen people driving the heathen out of the land, they rushed eagerly into the contest, without a single effort at the preservation of peace. indeed, their pretensions hardly admitted of it. philip was denounced as a rebel in arms against his lawful superiors, with whom it would be folly and weakness to treat on any terms short of absolute submission. a body of volunteers, horse and foot, raised in massachusetts, marched under major savage, four days after the attack on swanzey, to join the plymouth forces. after one or two slight skirmishes, they penetrated to the wampanoag villages at mount hope, but found them empty and deserted. philip and his warriors, conscious of their inferiority, had abandoned their homes. if the narragansetts, on the opposite side of the bay, did not openly join the wampanoags, they would, at least, be likely to afford shelter to their women and children. the troops were therefore ordered into the narragansett country, accompanied by commissioners to demand assurances of peaceful intentions, and a promise to deliver up all fugitive enemies of the colonists--pledges which the narragansetts felt themselves constrained to give. arrived at taunton on their return from the narragansett country, news came that philip and his warriors had been discovered by church, of plymouth colony, collected in a great swamp at pocasset, now tiverton, the southern district of the wampanoag country, whence small parties sallied forth to burn and plunder the neighboring settlements. after a march of eighteen miles, having reached the designated spot, the soldiers found there a hundred wigwams lately built, but empty and deserted, the indians having retired deep into the swamp. the colonists followed; but the ground was soft; the thicket was difficult to penetrate; the companies were soon thrown into disorder. each man fired at every bush he saw shake, thinking an indian might lay concealed behind it, and several were thus wounded by their own friends. when night came on, the assailants retired with the loss of sixteen men. the swamp continued to be watched and guarded, but philip broke through, not without some loss, and escaped into the country of the nipmucks, in the interior of massachusetts. that tribe had already commenced hostilities by attacking mendon. they waylaid and killed captain hutchinson, a son of the famous mrs. hutchinson, and sixteen out of a party of twenty sent from boston to brookfield to parley with them. attacking brookfield itself, they burned it, except one fortified house. the inhabitants were saved by major willard, who, on information of their danger, came with a troop of horse from lancaster, thirty miles through the woods, to their rescue. a body of troops presently arrived from the eastward, and were stationed for some time at brookfield. the colonists now found that by driving philip to extremity they had roused a host of unexpected enemies. the river indians, anticipating an intended attack upon them, joined the assailants. deerfield and northfield, the northernmost towns on the connecticut river, settled within a few years past, were attacked, and several of the inhabitants killed and wounded. captain beers, sent from hadley to their relief with a convoy of provisions, was surprised near northfield and slain, with twenty of his men. northfield was abandoned, and burned by the indians. "the english at first," says gookin, "thought easily to chastise the insolent doings and murderous practice of the heathen; but it was found another manner of thing than was expected; for our men could see no enemy to shoot at, but yet felt their bullets out of the thick bushes where they lay in ambush. the english wanted not courage or resolution, but could not discover nor find an enemy to fight with, yet were galled by the enemy." in the arts of ambush and surprise, with which the indians were so familiar, the colonists were without practice. it is to the want of this experience, purchased at a very dear rate in the course of the war, that we must ascribe the numerous surprises and defeats from which the colonists suffered at its commencement. driven to the necessity of defensive warfare, those in command on the river determined to establish a magazine and garrison at hadley. captain lathrop, who had been despatched from the eastward to the assistance of the river towns, was sent with eighty men, the flower of the youth of essex county, to guard the wagons intended to convey to hadley three thousand bushels of unthreshed wheat, the produce of the fertile deerfield meadows. just before arriving at deerfield, near a small stream still known as bloody brook, under the shadow of the abrupt conical sugar loaf, the southern termination of the deerfield mountain, lathrop fell into an ambush, and, after a brave resistance, perished there with all his company. captain moseley, stationed at deerfield, marched to his assistance, but arrived too late to help him. deerfield was abandoned, and burned by the indians. springfield, about the same time, was set on fire, but was partially saved by the arrival, with troops from connecticut, of major treat, successor to the lately deceased mason in the chief command of the connecticut forces. an attack on hatfield was vigorously repelled by the garrison. meanwhile, hostilities were spreading; the indians on the merrimac began to attack the towns in their vicinity; and the whole of massachusetts was soon in the utmost alarm. except in the immediate neighborhood of boston, the country still remained an immense forest, dotted by a few openings. the frontier settlements could not be defended against a foe familiar with localities, scattered in small parties, skilful in concealment, and watching with patience for some unguarded or favorable moment. those settlements were mostly broken up, and the inhabitants, retiring toward boston, spread everywhere dread and intense hatred of "the bloody heathen." even the praying indians and the small dependent and tributary tribes became objects of suspicion and terror. they had been employed at first as scouts and auxiliaries, and to good advantage; but some few, less confirmed in the faith, having deserted to the enemy, the whole body of them were denounced as traitors. eliot the apostle, and gookin, superintendent of the subject indians, exposed themselves to insults, and even to danger, by their efforts to stem this headlong fury, to which several of the magistrates opposed but a feeble resistance. troops were sent to break up the praying villages at mendon, grafton, and others in that quarter. the natick indians, "those poor despised sheep of christ," as gookin affectionately calls them, were hurried off to deer island, in boston harbor, where they suffered excessively from a severe winter. a part of the praying indians of plymouth colony were confined, in like manner, on the islands in plymouth harbor. not content with realities sufficiently frightful, superstition, as usual, added bugbears of her own. indian bows were seen in the sky, and scalps in the moon. the northern lights became an object of terror. phantom horsemen careered among the clouds or were heard to gallop invisible through the air. the howling of wolves was turned into a terrible omen. the war was regarded as a special judgment in punishment of prevailing sins. among these sins the general court of massachusetts, after consultation with the elders, enumerated: neglect in the training of the children of church members; pride, in men's wearing long and curled hair; excess in apparel; naked breasts and arms, and superfluous ribbons; the toleration of quakers; hurry to leave meeting before blessing asked; profane cursing and swearing; tippling-houses; want of respect for parents; idleness; extortion in shopkeepers and mechanics; and the riding from town to town of unmarried men and women, under pretence of attending lectures--"a sinful custom, tending to lewdness." penalties were denounced against all these offences; and the persecution of the quakers was again renewed. a quaker woman had recently frightened the old south congregation in boston by entering that meeting-house clothed in sackcloth, with ashes on her head, her feet bare, and her face blackened, intending to personify the small-pox, with which she threatened the colony, in punishment for its sins. about the time of the first collision with philip, the tarenteens, or eastern indians, had attacked the settlements in maine and new hampshire, plundering and burning the houses, and massacring such of the inhabitants as fell into their hands. this sudden diffusion of hostilities and vigor of attack from opposite quarters made the colonists believe that philip had long been plotting and had gradually matured an extensive conspiracy, into which most of the tribes had deliberately entered for the extermination of the whites. this belief infuriated the colonists and suggested some very questionable proceedings. it seems, however, to have originated, like the war itself, from mere suspicions. the same griefs pressed upon all the tribes; and the struggle once commenced, the awe which the colonists inspired thrown off, the greater part were ready to join in the contest. but there is no evidence of any deliberate concert; nor, in fact, were the indians united. had they been so, the war would have been far more serious. the connecticut tribes proved faithful, and that colony remained untouched. uncas and ninigret continued friendly; even the narragansetts, in spite of so many former provocations, had not yet taken up arms. but they were strongly suspected of intention to do so, and were accused by uncas of giving, notwithstanding their recent assurances, aid and shelter to the hostile tribes. an attempt had lately been made to revive the union of the new england colonies. at a meeting of commissioners, those from plymouth presented a narrative of the origin and progress of the present hostilities. upon the strength of this narrative the war was pronounced "just and necessary," and a resolution was passed to carry it on at the joint expense, and to raise for that purpose a thousand men, one-half to be mounted dragoons. if the narragansetts were not crushed during the winter, it was feared they might break out openly hostile in the spring; and at a subsequent meeting a thousand men were ordered to be levied to coöperate in an expedition specially against them. the winter was unfavorable to the indians; the leafless woods no longer concealed their lurking attacks. the frozen surface of the swamps made the indian fastnesses accessible to the colonists. the forces destined against the narragansetts--six companies from massachusetts, under major appleton; two from plymouth, under major bradford; and five from connecticut, under major treat--were placed under the command of josiah winslow, governor of plymouth since prince's death--son of that edward winslow so conspicuous in the earlier history of the colony. the massachusetts and plymouth forces marched to petasquamscot, on the west shore of narragansett bay, where they made some forty prisoners. being joined by the troops from connecticut, and guided by an indian deserter, after a march of fifteen miles through a deep snow they approached a swamp in what is now the town of south kingston, one of the ancient strongholds of the narragansetts. driving the indian scouts before them, and penetrating the swamp, the colonial soldiers soon came in sight of the indian fort, built on a rising ground in the morass, a sort of island of two or three acres, fortified by a palisade and surrounded by a close hedge a rod thick. there was but one entrance, quite narrow, defended by a tree thrown across it, with a block-house of logs in front and other on the flank. it was the "lord's day," but that did not hinder the attack. as the captains advanced at the heads of their companies the indians opened a galling fire, under which many fell. but the assailants pressed on and forced the entrance. a desperate struggle ensued. the colonists were once driven back, but they rallied and returned to the charge, and, after a two-hours' fight, became masters of the fort. fire was put to the wigwams, near six hundred in number, and all the horrors of the pequot massacre were renewed. the corn and other winter stores of the indians were consumed, and not a few of the old men, women, and children perished in the flames. in this bloody contest, long remembered as the "swamp fight," the colonial loss was terribly severe. six captains, with two hundred thirty men, were killed or wounded; and at night, in the midst of a snow-storm, with a fifteen-miles' march before them, the colonial soldiers abandoned the fort, of which the indians resumed possession. but their wigwams were burned; their provisions destroyed; they had no supplies for the winter; their loss was irreparable. of those who survived the fight many perished of hunger. even as a question of policy this attack on the narragansetts was more than doubtful. the starving and infuriated warriors, scattered through the woods, revenged themselves by attacks on the frontier settlements. lancaster was burned, and forty of the inhabitants killed or taken; among the rest, mrs. rolandson, wife of the minister, the narrative of whose captivity is still preserved. groton, chelmsford, and other towns in that vicinity were repeatedly attacked. medfield, twenty miles from boston, was furiously assaulted, and, though defended by three hundred men, half the houses were burned. weymouth, within eighteen miles of boston, was attacked a few days after. these were the nearest approaches which the indians made to that capital. for a time the neighborhood of the narragansett country was abandoned. the rhode island towns, though they had no part in undertaking the war, yet suffered the consequences of it. warwick was burned and providence was partially destroyed. most of the inhabitants sought refuge in the islands; but the aged roger williams accepted a commission as captain for the defence of the town he had founded. walter clarke was presently chosen governor in coddington's place, the times not suiting a quaker chief magistrate. the whole colony of plymouth was overrun. houses were burned in almost every town, but the inhabitants, for the most part, saved themselves in their garrisons, a shelter with which all the towns now found it necessary to be provided. captain pierce, with fifty men and some friendly indians, while endeavoring to cover the plymouth towns, fell into an ambush and was cut off. that same day, marlborough was set on fire; two days after, rehoboth was burned. the indians seemed to be everywhere. captain wadsworth, marching to the relief of sudbury, fell into an ambush and perished with fifty men. the alarm and terror of the colonists reached again a great height. but affairs were about to take a turn. the resources of the indians were exhausted; they were now making their last efforts. a body of connecticut volunteers, under captain denison, and of mohegan and other friendly indians, pequots and niantics, swept the entire country of the narragansetts, who suffered, as spring advanced, the last extremities of famine. canochet, the chief sachem, said to have been a son of miantonomoh, but probably his nephew, had ventured to his old haunts to procure seed corn with which to plant the rich intervals on the connecticut, abandoned by the colonists. taken prisoner, he conducted himself with all that haughty firmness esteemed by the indians as the height of magnanimity. being offered his life on condition of bringing about a peace he scorned the proposal. his tribe would perish to the last man rather than become servants to the english. when ordered to prepare for death he replied: "i like it well; i shall die before my heart is soft or i shall have spoken anything unworthy of myself." two indians were appointed to shoot him, and his head was cut off and sent to hartford. the colonists had suffered severely. men, women, and children had perished by the bullets of the indians or fled naked through the wintry woods by the light of their blazing houses, leaving their goods and cattle a spoil to the assailants. several settlements had been destroyed and many more had been abandoned; but the oldest and wealthiest remained untouched. the indians, on the other hand, had neither provisions nor ammunition. while attempting to plant corn and catch fish at montague falls, on the connecticut river, they were attacked with great slaughter by the garrison of the lower towns, led by captain turner, a boston baptist, and at first refused a commission on that account, but, as danger increased, pressed to accept it. yet this enterprise was not without its drawbacks. as the troops returned, captain turner fell into an ambush and was slain with thirty-eight men. hadley was attacked on a lecture-day, while the people were at meeting; but the indians were repulsed by the bravery of goffe, one of the fugitive regicides, long concealed in that town. seeing this venerable unknown man come to their rescue, and then suddenly disappear, the inhabitants took him for an angel. major church, at the head of a body of two hundred volunteers, english and indians, energetically hunted down the hostile bands in plymouth colony. the interior tribes about mount wachusett were invaded and subdued by a force of six hundred men, raised for that purpose. many fled to the north to find refuge in canada--guides and leaders, in after-years, of those french and indian war parties by which the frontiers of new england were so terribly harassed. just a year after the fast at the commencement of the war, a thanksgiving was observed for success in it. no longer sheltered by the river indians, who now began to make their peace, and even attacked by bands of the mohawks, philip returned to his own country, about mount hope, where he was still faithfully supported by his female confederate and relative, witamo, squaw-sachem of pocasset. punham, also, the shawomet vassal of massachusetts, still zealously carried on the war, but was presently killed. philip was watched and followed by church, who surprised his camp, killed upward of a hundred of his people, and took prisoners his wife and boy. the disposal of this child was a subject of much deliberation. several of the elders were urgent for putting him to death. it was finally resolved to send him to bermuda, to be sold into slavery--a fate to which many other of the indian captives were subjected. witamo shared the disasters of philip. most of her people were killed or taken. she herself was drowned while crossing a river in her flight, but her body was recovered, and the head, cut off, was stuck upon a pole at taunton, amid the jeers and scoffs of the colonial soldiers, and the tears and lamentations of the indian prisoners. philip still lurked in the swamps, but was now reduced to extremity. again attacked by church, he was killed by one of his own people, a deserter to the colonists. his dead body was beheaded and quartered, the sentence of the english law upon traitors. one of his hands was given to the indian who had shot him, and on the day appointed for a public thanksgiving his head was carried in triumph to plymouth. the popular rage against the indians was excessive. death or slavery was the penalty for all known or suspected to have been concerned in shedding english blood. merely having been present at the swamp fight was adjudged by the authorities of rhode island sufficient foundation for sentence of death, and that, too, notwithstanding they had intimated an opinion that the origin of the war would not bear examination. the other captives who fell into the hands of the colonists were distributed among them as ten-year servants. roger williams received a boy for his share. many chiefs were executed at boston and plymouth on the charge of rebellion; among others, captain tom, chief of the christian indians at natick, and tispiquin, a noted warrior, reputed to be invulnerable, who had surrendered to church on an implied promise of safety. a large body of indians, assembled at dover to treat of peace, were treacherously made prisoners by major waldron, who commanded there. some two hundred of these indians, claimed as fugitives from massachusetts, were sent by water to boston, where some were hanged and the rest shipped off to be sold as slaves. some fishermen of marblehead having been killed by the indians at the eastward, the women of that town, as they came out of meeting on a sunday, fell upon two indian prisoners who had just been brought in, and murdered them on the spot. the same ferocious spirit of revenge which governed the contemporaneous conduct of berkeley in virginia toward those concerned in bacon's rebellion swayed the authorities of new england in their treatment of the conquered indians. by the end of the year the contest was over in the south, upward of two thousand indians having been killed or taken. but some time elapsed before a peace could be arranged with the eastern tribes, whose haunts it was not so easy to reach. in this short war of hardly a year's duration the wampanoags and narragansetts had suffered the fate of the pequots. the niantics alone, under the guidance of their aged sachem ninigret, had escaped destruction. philip's country was annexed to plymouth, though sixty years afterward, under a royal order in council, it was transferred to rhode island. the narragansett territory remained as before, under the name of king's province, a bone of contention between connecticut, rhode island, the marquis of hamilton, and the atherton claimants. the niantics still retained their ancient seats along the southern shores of narragansett bay. most of the surviving narragansetts, the nipmucks, and the river indians, abandoned their country and migrated to the north and west. such as remained, along with the mohegans and other subject tribes, became more than ever abject and subservient. the work of conversion was now again renewed, and, after such overwhelming proofs of christian superiority, with somewhat greater success. a second edition of the indian old testament, which seems to have been more in demand than the new, was presently published, revised by eliot, with the assistance of john cotton, son of the "great cotton," and minister of plymouth. but not an individual exists in our day by whom it can be understood. the fragments of the subject tribes, broken in spirit, lost the savage freedom and rude virtues of their fathers without acquiring the laborious industry of the whites. lands were assigned them in various places, which they were prohibited by law from alienating. but this very provision, though humanely intended, operated to perpetuate their indolence and incapacity. some sought a more congenial occupation in the whale fishery, which presently began to be carried on from the islands of nantucket and martha's vineyard. many perished by enlisting in the military expeditions undertaken in future years against acadia and the west indies. the indians intermarried with the blacks, and thus confirmed their degradation by associating themselves with another oppressed and unfortunate race. gradually they dwindled away. a few hundred sailors and petty farmers, of mixed blood, as much african as indian, are now the sole surviving representatives of the aboriginal possessors of southern new england. on the side of the colonists the contest had also been very disastrous. twelve or thirteen towns had been entirely ruined and many others partially destroyed. six hundred houses had been burned, near a tenth part of all in new england. twelve captains, and more than six hundred men in the prime of life, had fallen in battle. there was hardly a family not in mourning. the pecuniary losses and expenses of the war were estimated at near a million of dollars. %growth of prussia under the greatelector% his victory at fehrbellin a.d. thomas carlyle it was the good-fortune of frederick william, elector of brandenburg, who is known in history as the "great elector," to lay a firm foundation for prussian monarchy. under his father, george william, the tenth elector, brandenburg had lost much of its former importance. when frederick william came into his inheritance in he found a weak and disunited state, little more than a group of provinces, with foreign territories lying between them, and governed by differing laws. the great problem before the elector was how to become actual ruler of his ill-joined possessions, and his first aim was to weld them together, that he might make himself absolute monarch. by forming an army of mercenaries he established his authority. his whole life was occupied with warlike affairs. he remained neutral during the last stages of the thirty years' war, but was always prepared for action. he freed prussia from polish control and drove the swedes from brandenburg. this last was his most famous success. it was won by his victory over the swedes under wrangel, at fehrbellin. carlyle's characteristic narrative and commentary on this and other triumphs of the great elector place him before the reader as one of the chief personages of the hohenzollern race and a leading actor in european history. brandenburg had sunk very low under the tenth elector, in the unutterable troubles of the times, but it was gloriously raised up again by his son friedrich wilhelm, who succeeded in . this is he whom they call the "great elector" ("_grosse kurfuerst_"), of whom there is much writing and celebrating in prussian books. as for the epithet, it is not uncommon among petty german populations, and many times does not mean too much: thus max of bavaria, with his jesuit lambkins and hyacinths, is by bavarians called "maximilian the great." friedrich wilhelm, both by his intrinsic qualities and the success he met with, deserves it better than most. his success, if we look where he started and where he ended, was beyond that of any other man in his day. he found brandenburg annihilated, and he left brandenburg sound and flourishing--a great country, or already on the way toward greatness: undoubtedly a most rapid, clear-eyed, active man. there was a stroke in him swift as lightning, well aimed mostly, and of a respectable weight withal, which shattered asunder a whole world of impediments for him by assiduous repetition of it for fifty years. there hardly ever came to sovereign power a young man of twenty under more distressing, hopeless-looking circumstances. political significance brandenburg had none--a mere protestant appendage dragged about by a papist kaiser. his father's prime minister was in the interest of his enemies; not brandenburg's servant, but austria's. the very commandants of his fortresses, commandant of spandau more especially, refused to obey friedrich wilhelm on his accession--"were bound to obey the kaiser in the first place." he had to proceed softly as well as swiftly, with the most delicate hand, to get him of spandau by the collar, and put him under lock and key, as a warning to others. for twenty years past brandenburg had been scoured by hostile armies, which, especially the kaiser's part of which, committed outrages new in human history. in a year or two hence brandenburg became again the theatre of business. austrian gallas, advancing thither again ( ) with intent "to shut up tortenson and his swedes in jutland," where they had been chastising old christian iv, now meddlesome again for the last time, and never a good neighbor to sweden, gallas could by no means do what he intended; on the contrary, he had to run from tortenson what feet could do, was hunted, he and his _merode_-bruder (beautiful inventors of the "marauding" art), "till they pretty much all died (_crepirten_)," says kohler. no great loss to society, the death of these artists, but we can fancy what their life, and especially what the process of their dying, may have cost poor brandenburg again. friedrich wilhelm's aim, in this as in other emergencies, was sun-clear to himself, but for most part dim to everybody else. he had to walk very warily, sweden on one hand of him, suspicious kaiser on the other; he had to wear semblances, to be ready with evasive words and advance noiselessly by many circuits. more delicate operation could not be imagined; but advance he did, advance and arrive. with extraordinary talent, diligence, and felicity, the young man wound himself out of this first fatal position; got those foreign armies pushed out of his country, and kept them out. his first concern had been to find some vestige of revenue, to put that upon a clear footing, and by loans or otherwise to scrape a little ready money together, on the strength of which a small body of soldiers could be collected about him, and drilled into real ability to fight and obey. this as a basis; on this followed all manner of things, freedom from swedish-austrian invasions as the first thing. he was himself, as appeared by and by, a fighter of the first quality when it came to that, but never was willing to fight if he could help it; preferred rather to shift, manoeuvre, and negotiate, which he did in a most vigilant, adroit, and masterly manner. but by degrees he had grown to have, and could maintain it, an army of twenty-four thousand men, among the best troops then in being. with or without his will, he was in all the great wars of his time--the time of louis xiv--who kindled europe four times over, thrice in our kurfuerst's day. the kurfuerst's dominions, a long, straggling country, reaching from memel to wesel, could hardly keep out of the way of any war that might rise. he made himself available, never against the good cause of protestantism and german freedom, yet always in the place and way where his own best advantage was to be had. louis xiv had often much need of him; still oftener, and more pressingly, had kaiser leopold, the little gentleman "in scarlet stockings, with a red feather in his hat," whom mr. savage used to see majestically walking about, with austrian lip that said nothing at all. his twenty-four thousand excellent fighting-men, thrown in at the right time, were often a thing that could turn the balance in great questions. they required to be allowed for at a high rate, which he well knew how to adjust himself for exacting and securing always. when the peace of westphalia ( ) concluded that thirty-years' conflagration, and swept the ashes of it into order again, friedrich wilhelm's right to pommern was admitted by everybody, and well insisted on by himself; but right had to yield to reason of state, and he could not get it. the swedes insisted on their expenses; the swedes held pommern, had all along held it--in pawn, they said, for their expenses. nothing for it but to give the swedes the better half of pommern--_fore_-pommern so they call it, ("swedish pomernia" thenceforth), which lies next the sea; this, with some towns and cuttings over and above, was sweden's share. friedrich wilhelm had to put up with _hinder_-pommern, docked furthermore of the town of stettin, and of other valuable cuttings, in favor of sweden, much to friedrich wilhelm's grief and just anger, could he have helped it. they gave him three secularized bishoprics, magdeburg, halberstadt, minden with other small remnants, for compensation, and he had to be content with these for the present. but he never gave up the idea of pommern. much of the effort of his life was spent upon recovering fore-pommern; thrice eager upon that, whenever lawful opportunity offered. to no purpose, then; he never could recover swedish pommern; only his late descendants, and that by slowish degrees, could recover it all. readers remember that burgermeister of stettin, with the helmet and sword flung into the grave and picked out again, and can judge whether brandenburg got its good luck quite by lying in bed. once, and once only, he had a voluntary purpose toward war, and it remained a purpose only. soon after the peace of westphalia, old pfalz-neuburg, the same who got the slap on the face, went into tyrannous proceedings against the protestant part of his subjects in juelic-cleve, who called to friedrich wilhelm for help. friedrich wilhelm, a zealous protestant, made remonstrances, retaliations; ere long the thought struck him, "suppose, backed by the dutch, we threw out this fantastic old gentleman, his papistries, and pretended claims and self, clear out of it?" this was friedrich wilhelm's thought, and he suddenly marched troops into the territory with that view. but europe was in alarm; the dutch grew faint. friedrich wilhelm saw it would not do. he had a conference with old pfalz-neuburg: "young gentleman, we remember how your grandfather made free with us and our august countenance! nevertheless, we--" in fine, the "statistics of treaties" was increased by one, and there the matter rested till calmer times. in an effective partition of these litigated territories was accomplished; prussia to have the duchy of cleve-proper, the counties of mark and ravensberg, with other patches and pertinents; neuburg, what was the better share, to have juelich duchy and berg duchy. furthermore, if either of the lines failed, in no sort was a collateral to be admitted; but brandenburg was to inherit neuburg, or neuburg brandenburg, as the case might be. a clear bargain this at last, and in the times that had come it proved executable so far; but if the reader fancies the lawsuit was at last out in this way, he will be a simple reader. in the days of our little fritz,[ ] the line of pfalz-neuburg was evidently ending; but that brandenburg, and not a collateral, should succeed it, there lay the quarrel open still, as if it had never been shut, and we shall hear enough about it. [footnote : frederick the great] friedrich wilhelm's first actual appearance in war, polish-swedish war ( - ), was involuntary in the highest degree; forced upon him for the sake of his preussen, which bade fair to be lost or ruined without blame of his or its. nevertheless, here too he made his benefit of the affair. the big king of sweden had a standing quarrel, with his big cousin of poland, which broke out into hot war; little preussen lay between them, and was like to be crushed in the collision. swedish king was karl gustav, christina's cousin, charles xii's grandfather: a great and mighty man, lion of the north in his time; polish king was one john casimir; chivalrous enough, and with clouds of forward polish chivalry about him, glittering with barbaric gold. friedrich iii, danish king for the first time being, he also was much involved in the thing. fain would friedrich wilhelm have kept out of it, but he could not. karl gustav as good as forced him to join; he joined; fought along with karl gustav an illustrious battle, "battle of warsaw," three days long (july - , ), on the skirts of warsaw; crowds "looking from the upper windows" there; polish chivalry, broken at last, going like chaff upon the winds, and john casimir nearly ruined. shortly after which, friedrich wilhelm, who had shone much in the battle, changed sides. an inconsistent, treacherous man? perhaps not, o reader; perhaps a man advancing "in circuits," the only way he has; spirally, face now to east, now to west, with his own reasonable private aim sun-clear to himself all the while. john casimir agreed to give up the "homage of preussen" for this service; a grand prize for friedrich wilhelm. what the teutsch ritters strove for in vain, and lost their existence in striving for, the shifty kurfuerst has now got: ducal prussia, which is also called east prussia, is now a free sovereignty, and will become as "royal" as the other polish part, or perhaps even more so, in the course of time--karl gustav, in a high frame of mind, informs the kurfuerst that he has him on his books, and will pay the debt one day. a dangerous debtor in such matters, this karl gustav. in these same months, busy with the danish part of the controversy, he was doing a feat of war which set all europe in astonishment. in january, , karl gustav marches his army, horse, foot, and artillery, to the extent of twenty thousand, across the baltic ice, and takes an island without shipping--island of fuenen, across the little belt--three miles of ice, and a part of the sea _open_, which has to be crossed on planks; nay, forward from fuenen, when once there, he achieves ten whole miles more of ice, and takes zealand itself, to the wonder of all mankind: an imperious, stern-browed, swift-striking man, who had dreamed of a new goth empire: the mean hypocrites and fribbles of the south to be coerced again by noble norse valor, and taught a new lesson; has been known to lay his hand on his sword while apprising an embassador (dutch high mightiness) what his royal intentions were: "not the sale or purchase of groceries, observe you, sir! my aims go higher." charles xii's grandfather, and somewhat the same type of man. but karl died short while after; left his big, wide-raging northern controversy to collapse in what way it could. sweden and the fighting parties made their "peace of oliva" (abbey of oliva, near dantzig, may , ), and this of preussen was ratified, in all form, among other points. no homage more; nothing now above ducal prussia but the heavens, and great times coming for it. this was one of the successfulest strokes of business ever done by friedrich wilhelm, who had been forced, by sheer compulsion, to embark in that big game. "royal prussia," the western _polish_ prussia--this too, as all newspapers know, has in our times gone the same road as the other, which probably after all, it may have had in nature, some tendency to do? cut away, for reasons, by the polish sword, in that battle of tannenberg, long since, and then, also for reasons, cut back again: that is the fact, not unexampled in human history. old johann casimir, not long after that peace of oliva, getting tired of his unruly polish chivalry and their ways, abdicated, retired to paris, and "lived much with ninon de l'enclos and her circle" for the rest of his life. he used to complain of his polish chivalry that there was no solidity in them, nothing but outside glitter, with tumult and anarchic noise; fatal want of one essential talent, the talent of obeying; and has been heard to prophesy that a glorious republic, persisting in such courses, would arrive at results which would surprise it. onward from this time friedrich wilhelm figures in the world, public men watching his procedure, kings anxious to secure him, dutch printsellers sticking up his portraits for a hero-worshipping public. fighting hero, had the public known it, was not his essential character, though he had to fight a great deal. he was essentially an industrial man; great in organizing, regulating, in constraining chaotic heaps to become cosmic for him. he drains bogs, settles colonies in the waste places of his dominions, cuts canals; unweariedly encourages trade and work. the friedrich-wilhelm's canal, which still carries tonnage from the oder to the spree, is a monument of his zeal in this way; creditable, with the means he had. to the poor french protestants in the edict-of-nantes affair, he was like an empress benefit of heaven: one helper appointed, to whom the help itself was profitable. he munificently welcomed them to brandenburg; showed really a noble piety and human self-pity, as well as judgment; nor did brandenburg and he want their reward. some twenty thousand nimble french souls, evidently of the best french quality, found a home there; made "waste sands about berlin into pot-herb gardens"; and in the spiritual brandenburg, too, did something of horticulture, which is still noticeable. certainly this elector was one of the shiftiest of men; not an unjust man either; a pious, god-fearing man rather, stanch to his protestantism and his bible; not unjust by any means, nor, on the other hand, by any means thin-skinned in his interpretings of justice: fairplay to myself always, or occasionally even the height of fairplay. on the whole, by constant energy, vigilance, adroit activity, by an ever-ready insight and audacity to seize the passing fact by its right handle, he fought his way well in the world; left brandenburg a flourishing and greatly increased country, and his own name famous enough. a thickset, stalwart figure, with brisk eyes, and high, strong, irregularly-roman nose. good bronze statue of him, by schlueter, once a famed man, still rides on the _lange-bruecke_ (long bridge) at berlin; and his portrait, in huge frizzled louis-quatorze wig, is frequently met with in german galleries. collectors of dutch prints, too, know him; here a gallant, eagle-featured little gentleman, brisk in the smiles of youth, with plumes, with truncheon, caprioling on his war-charger, view of tents in the distance; there a sedate, ponderous wrinkly old man, eyes slightly puckered (eyes _busier_ than mouth), a face well plowed by time, and not found unfruitful; one of the largest, most laborious potent faces (in an ocean of circumambient periwig) to be met with in that century. there are many histories about him, too, but they are not comfortable to read. he also has wanted a sacred poet, and found only a bewildering dryasdust. his two grand feats that dwell in the prussian memory are perhaps none of his greatest, but were of a kind to strike the imagination. they both relate to what was the central problem of his life--the recovery of pommern from the swedes. exploit first is the famed battle of fehrbellin (ferry of belleen), fought on june , . fehrbellin is an inconsiderable town still standing in those peaty regions, some five-and-thirty miles northwest of berlin, and had for ages plied its poor ferry over the oily-looking, brown sluggish stream called rhin, or rhein in those parts, without the least notice from mankind till this fell out. it is a place of pilgrimage to patriotic prussians ever since friedrich wilhelm's exploit there. the matter went thus: friedrich wilhelm was fighting, far south in alsace, on kaiser leopold's side, in the louis xiv war--that second one, which ended in the treaty of nimwegen. doing his best there, when the swedes, egged on by louis xiv, made war upon him; crossed the pomeranian marshes, troop after troop, and invaded his brandenburg territory with a force which at length amounted to sixteen thousand men. no help for the moment; friedrich wilhelm could not be spared from his post. the swedes, who had at first professed well, gradually went into plunder, roving, harrying at their own will; and a melancholy time they made of it for friedrich wilhelm and his people. lucky if temporary harm were all the ill they were likely to do; lucky if---- he stood steady, however; in his solid manner finishing the thing in hand first, since that was feasible. he then even retired into winter-quarters to rest his men, and seemed to have left the swedish sixteen thousand autocrats of the situation, who accordingly went storming about at a great rate. not so, however; very far, indeed, from so. having rested his men for certain months, friedrich wilhelm silently, in the first days of june, , gets them under march again; marches his cavalry and he as first instalment, with best speed from schweinfurt, which is on the river mayn, to magdeburg, a distance of two hundred miles. at magdeburg, where he rests three days, waiting for the first handful of foot and a field-piece or two, he learns that the swedes are in three parties wide asunder, the middle party of them within forty miles of him. probably stronger, even this middle one, than his small body (of "six thousand horse, twelve hundred foot, and three guns")--stronger, but capable, perhaps, of being surprised, of being cut in pieces before the others can come up? rathenau is the nearest skirt of this middle party: thither goes the kurfuerst, softly, swiftly, in the june night (june - , ); gets into rathenau by brisk stratagem; tumbles out the swedish horse regiment there, drives it back toward fehrbellin. he himself follows hard; swift riding enough in the summer night through those damp havel lands, in the old hohenzollern fashion; and, indeed, old freisack castle, as it chances--freisack, scene of dietrich von quitzow and _lazy peg_ long since--is close by. follows hard, we say; strikes in upon this midmost party (nearly twice his number, but infantry for most part); and after fierce fight, done with good talent on both sides, cuts it into utter ruin, as proposed; thereby he has left the swedish army as a mere head and tail without body; has entirely demolished the swedish army. same feat intrinsically as that done by cromwell on hamilton and the scots in . it was, so to speak, the last visit sweden paid to brandenburg, or the last of any consequence, and ended the domination of the swedes in those quarters--a thing justly to be forever remembered by brandenburg; on a smallish modern scale, the bannockburn, sempach, marathon of brandenburg. exploit second was four years later--in some sort a corollary to this, and a winding up of the swedish business. the swedes, in further prosecution of their louis xiv speculation, had invaded preussen this time, and were doing sad havoc there. it was in the dead of winter--christmas, --more than four hundred miles off; and the swedes, to say nothing of their own havoc, were in a case to take koenigsberg, and ruin prussia altogether, if not prevented. friedrich wilhelm starts from berlin, with the opening year, on his long march; the horse-troops first, foot to follow at their swiftest; he himself (his wife, his ever-true "louisa," accompanying, as her wont was) travels toward the end, at the rate of "sixty miles a day." he gets in still in time; finds koenigsberg unscathed; nay, it is even said the swedes are extensively falling sick, having after a long famine found infinite "pigs near insterburg," in those remote regions, and indulged in the fresh pork overmuch. i will not describe the subsequent manoeuvres, which would interest nobody; enough if i say that on january , , it had become of the highest moment for friedrich wilhelm to get from carwe (village near elbing), on the shore of the _frische haf_, where he was, through koenigsberg, to gilge on the _curische haf_, where the swedes are, in a minimum of time. distance, as the crow flies, is about a hundred miles; road, which skirts the two _hafs_ (wide shallow _washes_, as we should name them), is of rough quality and naturally circuitous. it is ringing frost to-day, and for days back. friedrich wilhelm hastily gathers all the sledges, all the horses of the district; mounts four thousand men in sledges; starts with speed of light, in that fashion; scours along all day, and after the intervening bit of land, again along, awakening the ice-bound silences. gloomy _frische haf_, wrapped in its winter cloud-coverlids, with its wastes of tumbled sand, its poor frost-bound fishing-hamlets, pine hillocks--desolate- looking, stern as greenland, or more so, says busching, who travelled there in winter-time--hears unexpected human voices, and huge grinding and trampling; the four thousand, in long fleet of sledges, scouring across it in that manner. all day they rush along--out of the rimy hazes of morning into the olive-colored clouds of evening again--with huge, loud-grinding rumble, and do arrive in time at gilge. a notable streak of things, shooting across those frozen solitudes in the new year, ; little short of karl gustav's feat, which we heard of in the other or danish end of the baltic, twenty years ago, when he took islands without ships. this second exploit--suggested or not by that prior one of karl gustav on the ice--is still a thing to be remembered by hohenzollerns and prussians. the swedes were beaten here on friedrich wilhelm's rapid arrival; were driven into disastrous, rapid retreat northward, which they executed in hunger and cold, fighting continually, like northern bears, under the grim sky, friedrich wilhelm sticking to their skirts, holding by their tail, like an angry bear-ward with steel whip in his hand; a thing which, on the small scale, reminds one of napoleon's experiences. not till napoleon's huge fighting-flight, a hundred and thirty-four years after, did i read of such a transaction in those parts. the swedish invasion of preussen has gone utterly to ruin. and this, then, is the end of sweden, and its bad neighborhood on these shores, where it has tyrannously sat on our skirts so long? swedish pommern; the elector already had: last year, coming toward it ever since the exploit of fehrbellin, he had invaded swedish pommern; had besieged and taken stettin, nay stralsund too, where wallenstein had failed; cleared pommern altogether of its swedish guests, who had tried next in preussen, with what luck we see. of swedish pommern the elector might now say, "surely it is mine; again mine, as it long was; well won a second time, since the first would not do." but no; louis xiv proved a gentleman to his swedes. louis, now that the peace of nimwegen had come, and only the elector of brandenburg was still in harness, said steadily, though anxious enough to keep well with the elector, "they are my allies, these swedes; it was on my bidding they invaded you: can i leave them in such a pass? it must not be." so pommern had to be given back: a miss which was infinitely grievous to friedrich wilhelm. the most victorious elector cannot hit always, were his right never so good. another miss which he had to put up with, in spite of his rights and his good services, was that of the silesian duchies. the heritage-fraternity with liegnitz had at length, in , come to fruit. the last duke of liegnitz was dead: duchies of liegnitz, of brieg, wohlau, are brandenburg's, if there were right done; but kaiser leopold in the scarlet stockings will not hear of heritage-fraternity. "nonsense!" answers kaiser leopold: "a thing suppressed at once, ages ago by imperial power; flat _zero_ of a thing at this time; and you, i again bid you, return me your papers upon it." this latter act of duty friedrich wilhelm would not do, but continued insisting: "jagerndorf, at least, o kaiser of the world," said he, "jagerndorf, there is no color for your keeping that!" to which the kaiser again answers, "nonsense!" and even falls upon astonishing schemes about it, as we shall see, but gives nothing. ducal preussen is sovereign, cleve is at peace, hinter-pommern ours; this elector has conquered much, but silesia, and vor-pommern, and some other things he will have to do without. louis xiv, it is thought, once offered to get him made king, but that he declined for the present. his married and domestic life is very fine and human, especially with that oranien-nassau princess, who was his first wife ( - ) princess louisa of nassau-orange, aunt to our own dutch william, king william iii, in time coming: an excellent, wise princess, from whom came the orange heritages, which afterward proved difficult to settle. orange was at last exchanged for the small principality of neufchatel in switzerland, which is prussia's ever since. "oranienburg (_orange-burg)_" a royal country-house, still standing, some twenty miles northward from berlin, was this louisa's place: she had trimmed it up into a little jewel of the dutch type--pot-herb gardens, training-schools for girls, and the like--a favorite abode of hers when she was at liberty for recreation. but her life was busy and earnest; she was helpmate, not in name only, to an ever-busy man. they were married young, a marriage of love withal. young friedrich wilhelm's courtship, wedding in holland; the honest trustful walk and conversation of the two sovereign spouses, their journeyings together, their mutual hopes, fears, and manifold vicissitudes, till death, with stern beauty, shut it in: all is human, true, and wholesome in it; interesting to look upon, and rare among sovereign persons. not but that he had his troubles with his womankind. even with this his first wife, whom he loved truly, and who truly loved him, there were scenes--the lady having a judgment of her own about everything that passed, and the man being choleric withal. sometimes, i have heard, "he would dash his hat at her feet," saying symbolically, "govern you, then, madam! not the kurfuerst hat; a coif is my wear, it seems!" yet her judgment was good, and he liked to have it on the weightiest things, though her powers of silence might halt now and then. he has been known, on occasions, to run from his privy council to her apartment, while a complex matter was debating, to ask her opinion, hers, too, before it was decided. excellent louisa, princess full of beautiful piety, good sense, and affection--a touch of the nassau-heroic in her. at the moment of her death, it is said, when speech had fled, he felt from her hand which lay in his, three slight, slight pressures: "farewell!" thrice mutely spoken in that manner, not easy to forget in this world. his second wife, dorothea, who planted the lindens in berlin, and did other husbandries, fell far short of louisa in many things, but not in tendency to advise, to remonstrate, and plaintively reflect on the finished and unalterable. dreadfully thrifty lady, moreover; did much in dairy produce, farming of town-rates, provision-taxes, not to speak again of that tavern she was thought to have in berlin, and to draw custom to it in an oblique manner! "ah! i have not my louisa now; to whom now shall i run for advice or help?" would the poor kurfuerst at times exclaim. he had some trouble, considerable trouble, now and then, with mutinous spirits in preussen; men standing on antique prussian franchises and parchments, refusing to see that the same were now antiquated incompatible, nor to say impossible, as the new sovereign alleged, and carrying themselves very stiffly at times. but the hohenzollerns had been used to such things; a hohenzollern like this one would evidently take his measures, soft but strong, and even stronger to the needful pitch, with mutinous spirits. one buergermeister of koenigsberg, after much stroking on the back, was at length seized in open hall by electoral writ, soldiers having first gently barricaded the principal streets, and brought cannon to bear upon them. this buergermeister, seized in such brief way, lay prisoner for life, refusing to ask his liberty, though it was thought he might have had it on asking. another gentleman, a baron von kalkstein, of old teutsch-ritter kin, of very high ways, in the provincial estates _(staende)_ and elsewhere, got into lofty, almost solitary, opposition, and at length, into mutiny proper, against the new "non-polish" sovereign, and flatly refused to do homage at his accession--refused, kalkstein did, for his share; fled to warsaw; and very fiercely, in a loud manner, carried out his mutinies in the diets and court conclaves there, his plea being, or plea for the time, "poland is our liege lord" (which it was not always), "and we cannot be transferred to you except by our consent asked and given," which, too, had been a little neglected on the former occasion of transfer; so that the great elector knew not what to do with kalkstein, and at length (as the case was pressing) had him kidnapped by his embassador at warsaw; had him "rolled in a carpet" there, and carried swiftly in the embassador's coach, in the form of luggage, over the frontier, into his native province, there to be judged, and, in the end (since nothing else would serve him), to have the sentence executed, and his head cut off; for the case was pressing. these things, especially this of kalkstein, with a boisterous polish diet and parliamentary eloquence in the rear of him, gave rise to criticisms, and required management on the part of the great elector. of all his ancestors, our little fritz, when he grew big, admired this one--a man made like himself in many points. he seems really to have loved and honored this one. in the year there had been a new cathedral got finished at berlin; the ancestral bones had to be shifted over from the vaults of the old one--the burying-place ever since joachim ii, that joachim who drew his sword on alba. king friedrich, with some attendants, witnessed the operation, january, . when the great kurfuerst's coffin came, he bade them open it; gazed in silence on the features for some time, which were perfectly recognizable; laid his hand on the hand long dead, and said, "_messieurs, celui ci a fait de grandes choses_!" ("this one did a grand work"). %william penn receives the grant of pennsylvania% founding of philadelphia a.d. george e. ellis although european settlers had occupied portions of the present state of pennsylvania for fifty years before william penn arrived in that territory, the real foundation of the great commonwealth named after him is justly dated from his time. penn was an english "friend," or quaker, and was descended from a long line of sailors. he was born in london in , his father being admiral sir william penn of the english navy. the son was educated at oxford university, and became a preacher of the society of friends. this calling brought him into collision with the authorities. he was several times arrested, and for a while was imprisoned in the tower for "urging the cause of freedom with importunity." through the influence of his family and the growing weight of his own character, he escaped the heavier penalties inflicted upon some of his coreligionists, and, by the shrewdness and tact which he united with spiritual fervor, he rapidly advanced in public position. in penn became part proprietor of west new jersey, where a colony of english friends was settled. five years later, through his influence at court and the aid of wealthy persons, he was enabled to purchase a large tract in east new jersey, where he designed to establish a similar colony on a larger plan. but this project was soon superseded by a much greater one, of which the execution is here related. the interest of william penn having been engaged for some time in the colonization of an american province, and the idea having become familiar to his mind of establishing there a christian home as a refuge for friends, and the scene for a fair trial of their principles, he availed himself of many favorable circumstances to become a proprietary himself. in various negotiations concerning new jersey he had had a conspicuous share, and the information which his inquiring mind gathered from the adventures in the new world gave him all the knowledge which was requisite for his further proceedings. though he had personal enemies in high places, and the project which he designed crossed the interests of the duke of york[ ] and of lord baltimore, yet his court influence was extensive, and he knew how to use it. [footnote : afterward james ii. he was proprietor of new york, and lord baltimore of maryland.] the favor of charles ii and of his brother the duke of york had been sought by penn's dying father for his son, and freely promised. but william penn had a claim more substantial than a royal promise of those days. the crown was indebted to the estate of admiral penn for services, loans, and interest, to the amount of sixteen thousand pounds. the exchequer, under the convenient management of shaftesbury, would not meet the claim. penn, who was engaged in settling the estate of his father, petitioned the king, in june, , for a grant of land in america as a payment for all these debts. the request was laid before the privy council, and then before the committee of trade and plantations. penn's success must have been owing to great interest made on his behalf; for both the duke of york, by his attorney, and lord baltimore opposed him. as proprietors of territory bounding on the tract which he asked for, and as having been already annoyed by the conflict of charters granted in the new world, they were naturally unfairly biassed. the application made to the king succeeded after much debate. the provisions in the charter of lord baltimore were adopted by penn with slight alterations. sir william jones objected to one of the provisions, which allowed a freedom from taxation, and the bishop of london, as the ecclesiastical supervisor of plantations, proposed another provision, to prevent too great liberty in religious matters. chief justice north having reduced the patent to a satisfactory form, to guard the king's prerogative and the powers of parliament, it was signed by writ of privy seal at westminster, march , . it made penn the owner of about forty thousand square miles of territory. this charter is given at length by proud and other writers. the preamble states that the design of william penn was to enlarge the british empire and to civilize and convert the savages. the first section avers that his petition was granted on account of the good purposes of the son and the merits and services of the father. the bounds of the territory are thus defined: "all that tract or part of land, in america, with the islands therein contained, as the same is bounded on the east by delaware river, from twelve miles distance northward of new castle town, unto the three-and-fortieth degree of northern latitude, if the said river doth extend so far northward; but if the said river shall not extend so far northward, then, by the said river, so far as it doth extend; and from the head of the said river, the eastern bounds are to be determined by a meridian line to be drawn from the head of the said river, unto the said forty-third degree. the said land to extend westward five degrees in longitude to be computed from the said eastern bounds; and the said lands to be bounded on the north by the beginning of the three-and-fortieth degree of northern latitude, and on the south by a circle drawn at twelve miles' distance from new castle, northward and westward, unto the beginning of the fortieth degree of northern latitude; and then by a straight line westward to the limits of longitude above mentioned." though these boundaries appear to be given with definiteness and precision, a controversy, notwithstanding, arose at once between penn and lord baltimore, which outlasted the lives of both of them, and, being continued by their representatives, was not in fact closed until the revolutionary war. the charter vested the perpetual proprietaryship of this territory in william penn and his heirs, on the fealty of the annual payment of two beaver-skins; it authorized him to make and execute laws not repugnant to those of england, to appoint judges, to receive those who wished to transport themselves, _to establish a military force_, to constitute municipalities, and to carry on a free commerce. it required that an agent of the proprietor should reside in or near london, and provided for the rights of the church of england. the charter also disclaimed all taxation, except through the proprietor, the governor, the assembly, or parliament, and covenanted that if any question of arms or conditions should arise it should be decided in favor of the proprietor. by a declaration to the inhabitants and planters of pennsylvania, dated april d, the king confirmed the charter, to ratify it for all who might intend to emigrate under it, and to require compliance from all whom it concerned. by a letter from penn to his friend robert turner, written upon the day on which the charter was signed, we learn that the proprietor designed to call his territory "new wales"; but the under-secretary, a welshman, opposed it. penn then suggested "sylvania," as applicable to the forest region; but the secretary, acting under instructions, prefixed "penn" to this title. the modest and humble quaker offered the official twenty guineas as a bribe to leave off his name. failing again, he went to the king and stated his objection; but the king said he would take the naming upon himself, and insisted upon it as doing honor to the old admiral. penn now resigned the charge of west new jersey, and devoted himself to the preliminary tasks which should make his province available to himself and others. he sent over, in may, his cousin and secretary, colonel william markham, then only twenty-one years old, to make such arrangements for his own coming as might be necessary. this gentleman, who acted as penn's deputy, carried over from him a letter, dated london, april , , addressed "for the inhabitants of pennsylvania; to be read by my deputy." this was a courteous announcement of his proprietaryship and intentions to the dutch, swedes, and english, who, to the number, probably, of about three thousand, were then living within his patent. penn's object being to obtain adventurers and settlers at once, he published _some account of the province of pennsylvania, in america, lately granted, under the great seal of england, to william penn_. this was accompanied by a copy of the charter and a statement of the terms on which the land was to be sold, with judicious advice addressed to those who were disposed to transport themselves, warning them against mere fancy dreams, or the desertion of friends, and encouraging them by all reasonable expectations of success. the terms of sale were, for a hundred acres of land, forty shillings purchase money, and one shilling as an annual quit-rent. this latter stipulation, made in perfect fairness, not unreasonable in itself, and ratified by all who of their own accord acceded to it, was, as we shall see, an immediate cause of disaffection, and has ever since been the basis of a calumny against the honored and most estimable founder of pennsylvania. under date of july , , penn published _certain conditions or concessions to be agreed upon by william penn, proprietary and governor of the province of pennsylvania, and those who may become adventurers and purchasers in the same province_. these conditions relate to dividing, planting, and building upon the land, saving mulberry-and oak-trees, and dealing with the indians. these documents were circulated, and imparted sufficient knowledge of the country and its produce, so that purchasers at once appeared, and penn went to bristol to organize there a company called "the free society of traders in pennsylvania," who purchased twenty thousand acres of land, and prepared to establish various trades in the province. yet further to mature his plans, and to begin with a fair understanding among all who might be concerned in the enterprise, penn drew up and submitted a sketch of the frame of government, providing for alterations, with a preamble for liberty of conscience. on the basis of contracts and agreements thus made and mutually ratified, three passenger ships, two from london and one from bristol, sailed for pennsylvania in september, . one of them made an expeditious passage; another was frozen up in the delaware; and the third, driven to the west indies, was long delayed. they took over some of the ornamental work of a house for the proprietor. the governor also sent over three commissioners, whose instructions we learn from the original document addressed to them by penn, dated september , . these commissioners were william crispin, john bezar, and nathaniel allen. their duty was that of "settling the colony." penn refers them to his cousin markham, "now on the spot." he instructs them to take good care of the people; to guard them from extortionate prices for commodities from the earlier inhabitants; to select a site by the river, and there to lay out a town; to have his letter to the indians read to them in their own tongue; to make them presents from him--adding, "be grave; they love not to be smiled upon"--and to enter into a league of amity with them. penn also instructs the commissioners to select a site for his own occupancy, and closes with some good advice in behalf of order and virtue. these commissioners probably did not sail until the latter part of october, as they took with them the letter to the indians, to which penn refers. this letter, bearing the date october , , is a beautiful expression of feeling on the part of the proprietor. he does not address the indians as heathen, but as his brethren, the children of the one father. he announces to them his accession, as far as a royal title could legitimate it, to a government in their country; he distinguishes between himself and those who had ill treated the indians, and pledges his love and service. about this time william penn was elected a fellow of the royal society in london, probably by nomination of his friend, dr. john wallis, one of its founders, and with the hope that his connection with the new world would enable him to advance its objects. with a caution, which the experience of former purchases rendered essential, penn obtained of the duke of york a release of all his claims within the patent. his royal highness executed a quitclaim to william penn and his heirs on august , . the duke had executed, in march, a ratification of his two former grants of east jersey. but a certain fatality seemed to attend upon these transfers of ducal possessions. after various conflicts and controversies long continued, we may add, though by anticipation, that the proprietaryship of both the jerseys was abandoned, and they were surrendered to the crown under queen anne, in april, . penn also obtained of the duke of york another tract of land adjoining his patent. this region, afterward called the "territories," and the three "lower counties," now delaware, had been successively held by the swedes and dutch, and by the english at new york. the duke confirmed it to william penn, by two deeds, dated august , . the last care on the mind of william penn, before his embarkation, was to prepare proper counsel and instruction for his wife and children. this he did in the form of a letter written at worminghurst, august , . he knew not that he should ever see them again, and his heart poured forth to them the most touching utterances of affection. but it was not the heart alone which indited the epistle. it expressed the wisest counsels of prudence and discretion. all the important letters written by penn contain a singular union of spiritual and worldly wisdom. indeed, he thought these two ingredients to be but one element. he urged economy, filial love, purity, and industry, as well as piety, upon his children. he favored, though he did not insist upon, their receiving his religious views. we may express a passing regret that he who could give such advice to his children should not have had the joy to leave behind him anyone who could meet the not inordinate wish of his heart. in the mean while his deputy, markham, acting by his instructions, was providing him a new home by purchasing for him, of the indians, a piece of land, the deed of which is dated july th, and endorsed with a confirmation, august st, and by commencing upon it the erection which was afterward known as pennsbury manor. all his arrangements being completed, william penn, at the age of thirty-eight, well, strong, and hopeful of the best results, embarked for his colony, on board the ship welcome, of three hundred tons, robert greenaway master, on the last of august, . while in the downs he wrote a _farewell letter to friends, the unfaithful and inquiring_, in his native land, dated august th, and probably many private letters. he had about one hundred fellow-passengers, mostly friends from his own neighborhood in sussex. the vessel sailed about september st, and almost immediately the small-pox, that desolating scourge of the passenger-ships of those days, appeared among the passengers, and thirty fell victims to it. the trials of that voyage, told to illustrate the christian spirit which submissively encountered them, were long repeated from father to son and from mother to daughter. in about six weeks the ship entered the delaware river. the old inhabitants along the shores, which had been settled by the whites for about half a century, received penn with equal respect and joy. he arrived at new castle on october th. the day was not commemorated by annual observances until the year , when a meeting for that purpose was held at an inn, in laetitia court, where penn had resided. while the ship and its company went up the river, the proprietor, on the next day, called the inhabitants, who were principally dutch and swedes, to the court-house, where, after addressing them, he assumed and received the formal possession of the country. he renewed the commissions of the old magistrates, who urged him to unite the territories to his government. after a visit of ceremony to the authorities at new york and long island, with a passing token to his friends in new jersey, penn went to upland to hold the first assembly, which opened on december th. nicholas moore, an english lawyer, and president of the free society of traders, was made speaker. after three days' peaceful debate, the assembly ratified, with modifications, the laws made in england, with about a score of new ones of a local, moral, or religious character, in which not only the drinking of healths, but the talking of scandal, was forbidden. by suggestion of his friend and fellow-voyager, pearson, who came from chester, in england, penn substituted that name for upland. by an act of union, passed on december th, the three lower counties, or the territories, were joined in the government, and the foreigners were naturalized at their own request. on his arrival penn had sent two messengers to charles calvert, lord baltimore, to propose a meeting and conference with him about their boundaries. on december th they met at west river with courtesy and kindness; but after three days they concluded to wait for the more propitious weather of the coming year. penn, on his way back, attended a religious meeting at a private house, and afterward an official meeting at choptank, on the eastern shore of the chesapeake, and reached chester again by december th, where much business engaged him. about twenty-three ships had arrived by the close of the year; none of them met with disaster, and all had fair passages. the new-comers found a comparatively easy sustenance. provisions were obtained at a cheap rate of the indians and of the older settlers. but great hardships were endured by some, and special providences are commemorated. many found their first shelter in caves scooped out in the steep bank of the river. when these caves were deserted by their first occupants, the poor or the vicious made them a refuge; and one of the earliest signs both of prosperity and of corruption, in the colony, is disclosed in the mention that these rude coverts of the first devoted emigrants soon became tippling-houses and nuisances in the misuse of the depraved. there has been much discussion of late years concerning the far-famed treaty of penn with the indians. a circumstance, which has all the interest both of fact and of poetry, was confirmed by such unbroken testimony of tradition that history seemed to have innumerable records of it in the hearts and memories of each generation. but as there appears no document or parchment of such _criteria_ as to satisfy all inquiries, historical scepticism has ventured upon the absurd length of calling in question the fact of the treaty. the historical society of pennsylvania, with commendable zeal, has bestowed much labor upon the questions connected with the treaty, and the results which have been attained can scarcely fail to satisfy a candid inquirer. all claim to a peculiar distinction for william penn, on account of the singularity of his just proceedings in this matter is candidly waived, because the swedes, the dutch, and the english had previously dealt thus justly with the natives. it is in comparison with pizarro and cortes that the colonists of all other nations in america appear to an advantage; but the fame of william penn stands, and ever will stand, preeminent for unexceptionable justice and peace in his relations with the natives. penn had several meetings for conference and treaties with the indians, besides those which he held for the purchase of lands. but unbroken and reverently cherished tradition, beyond all possibility of contradiction, has designated one great treaty held under a large elm-tree, at shackamaxon (now kensington), a treaty which voltaire justly characterizes as "never sworn to, and never broken." in penn's _letter to the free society of traders,_ dated august , , he refers to his conferences with the indians. two deeds, conveying land to him, are on record, both of which bear an earlier date than this letter; namely, june d and july th of the same year. he had designed to make a purchase in may; but having been called off to a conference with lord baltimore, he postponed the business till june. the "great treaty" was doubtless unconnected with the purchase of land, and was simply a treaty of amity and friendship, in confirmation of one previously held, by penn's direction, by markham, on the same spot; that being a place which the indians were wont to use for this purpose. it is probable that the treaty was held on the last of november, ; that the delawares, the mingos, and other susquehanna tribes formed a large assembly on the occasion; that written minutes of the conference were made, and were in possession of governor gordon, who states nine conditions as belonging to them in , but are now lost; and that the substance of the treaty is given in penn's _letter to the free traders_. these results are satisfactory, and are sufficiently corroborated by known facts and documents. the great treaty, being distinct from a land purchase, is significantly distinguished in history and tradition. the inventions of romance and imagination could scarcely gather round this engaging incident attractions surpassing in its own simple and impressive interest. doubtless clarkson has given a fair representation of it, if we merely disconnect from his account the statement that the indians were armed, and all that confounds the treaty of friendship with the purchase of lands. penn wore a sky-blue sash of silk around his waist, as the most simple badge. the pledges there given were to hold their sanctity "while the creeks and rivers run, and while the sun, moon, and stars endure." while the whites preserved in written records the memory of such covenants, the indians had their methods for perpetuating in safe channels their own relations. they cherished in grateful regard, they repeated to their children and to the whites, the terms of the great treaty. the delawares called william penn _miquon_, in their own language, though they seem to have adopted the name given him by the iroquois, _onas_; both which terms signify a quill or pen. benjamin west's picture of the treaty is too imaginative for a historical piece. he makes penn of a figure and aspect which would become twice the years that had passed over his head. the elm-tree was spared in the war of the american revolution, when there was distress for firewood, the british officer, simcoe, having placed a sentinel beneath it for protection. it was prostrated by the wind on the night of saturday, march , . it was of gigantic size, and the circles around its heart indicated an age of nearly three centuries. a piece of it was sent to the penn mansion at stoke poges, in england, where it is properly commemorated. a marble monument, with suitable inscriptions, was "placed by the penn society, a.d. , to mark the site of the great elm tree." long may it stand! penn then made a visit to his manor of pennsbury, up the delaware. under markham's care, the grounds had been arranged, and a stately edifice of brick was in process of completion. the place had many natural beauties, and is said to have been arranged and decorated in consistency both with the office and the simple manners of the proprietor. there was a hall of audience for indian embassies within, and luxurious gardens without. hospitality had here a wide range, and penn evidently designed it for a permanent abode. with the help of his surveyor, thomas holme, he laid out the plan of his now beautiful city, and gave it its name of christian signification, that brotherly love might pervade its dwellings. he purchased the land, where the city stands, of the swedes who already occupied it, and who purchased it of the indians, though it would seem that a subsequent purchase was made of the natives of the same site with adjacent territory some time afterward by thomas holme, acting as president of the council, while penn was in england. the schuylkill and the delaware rivers gave to the site eminent attractions. the plan was very simple, the streets running north and south being designated by numbers, those running east and west by the names of trees. provision was made for large squares to be left open, and for common water privileges. the building was commenced at once, and was carried on with great zeal and continued success. %last turkish invasion of europe% sobieski saves vienna a.d. sutherland menzies after the defeat of the turks at lepanto, in , the ottoman power in europe slowly declined. but under the sultan mahomet iv the old moslem ambition for european conquest reawoke, as if for a final effort. and such it proved to be. by the disaster before vienna, in which john sobieski, king of poland, once more saved europe from their incursions, the turks were driven back within their own confines, where they have since, for the most part, remained, making many wars, but no successful inroads, upon european powers. in the hungarian magnates, who were resisting the oppression and persecution of their people by the austrian government, called upon the turks for assistance. listening to the proposals of tekeli, the hungarian leader, who had secured the aid of louis xiv of france, mahomet iv decided to break the truce he had made with austria in . in vain the emperor leopold i sent an embassy to constantinople to dissuade the sultan from his purpose. early in the spring of sultan mahomet marched forth from his capital with a large army, which at belgrad he transferred to the command of the grand vizier kara mustapha. tekeli formed a junction with the turks at essek. in vain did ibrahim, the experienced pacha of buda, endeavor to persuade kara mustapha first of all to subdue the surrounding country, and to postpone until the following year the attack upon vienna; his advice was scornfully rejected, and, indeed, the audacity of the grand vizier seemed justified by the scant resistance he had met with. he talked of renewing the conquests of solyman: he assembled, it is said, seven hundred thousand men, one hundred thousand horses, and one thousand two hundred guns--an army more powerful than any the turks had set on foot since the capture of constantinople. all of which may be reduced to one hundred fifty thousand barbarian troops without discipline, the last conquering army which the degenerate race of the osmanlis produced wherewith to invade hungary. hostilities commenced in march, ; for the turks, who had not been accustomed to enter upon a campaign before the summer season, had begun their march that year before the end of winter. some prompt and easy successes exalted the ambition of kara mustapha; and in spite of the contrary advice of tekeli, ibrahim pacha, and several other personages, he determined to besiege vienna. he accordingly advanced direct upon that capital and encamped under its walls on july th. it was just at the moment that louis xiv had captured strasburg, and at which his army appeared ready to cross the rhine: all europe was in alarm, believing that an agreement existed between france and the porte for the conquest and dismemberment of germany. but it was not so. the turks, without giving france any previous warning, had of themselves made their invasion of hungary; louis xiv was delighted at their success, but nevertheless disposed, if it went too far, to check them, in order to play the part of saviour of christendom. it was fortunate for the emperor leopold that he had upon the frontiers of poland an ally of indomitable courage in king john sobieski, and that he found the german princes loyal and prompt on this occasion, contrary to their custom, in sending him succor. moreover, in duke charles of lorraine he met with a skilful general to lead his army. consternation and confusion prevailed, however, in vienna, while the emperor with his court fled to linz. many of the inhabitants followed him; but the rest, when the first moments of terror had passed, prepared for the defence, and the dilatoriness of the turks, who amused themselves with pillaging the environs and neighboring _châteaux_, allowed the duke of lorraine to throw twelve thousand men as a garrison into the city; then, as he was unable with his slender force to bar the approach of the turkish army, he kept aloof and waited for the king of poland. leopold solicited succor on all sides, and the pope made an appeal to the piety of the king of france. louis xiv, on the contrary, was intriguing throughout europe in order that the christian princes should not quit their attitude of repose, and he only offered to the diet of ratisbon the aid of his arms on condition that it should recognize the recent usurpations decreed by the famous chambers of reunion,[ ] and that it should elect his son king of the romans. he reckoned, if it should accept his offers, to determine the turks to retreat and to effect a peace which, by bringing the imperial crown into his house, would have been the death-stroke for austria. all these combinations miscarried through the devotedness of the poles. [footnote : the chambers of reunion were special courts established in france by louis xiv ( ). these courts declared for the annexation to france of various territories along the eastern frontier.--ed.] when leopold supplicated sobieski to come to his aid, louis xiv tried to divert him from it; he reassured him upon the projects of the turks by a letter of the sultan, he made him see his real enemies in austria, brandenburg, and that power of the north, which the dutch gazettes had begun to call "his russian majesty"; he reminded him, in fine, that the house of austria, saved by the french on the day of st. gothard, had testified its gratitude to them by allowing the victors to die of hunger and by envenoming their difference with the porte. but it was all useless; hatred of the infidels prevailed, and the polish squadrons hurried to the deliverance of vienna. count rudiger de starhemberg was made commandant of the city, and showed himself alike bold and energetic in everything that could contribute to its defence. the turkish camp encircled vienna and its suburbs, spreading over the country all round to the distance of six leagues. two days afterward, kara mustapha opened the trenches, and his artillery battered the walls in order to make a breach. great efforts, moreover, were made in digging mines, with the design of blowing up bastions or portions of the wall, so that the city might be carried by assault, wherein the turks hoped to find an immense booty. but the besieged made an obstinate defence, and repaired during the night the damage done on the previous day. during sixty days forty mines and ten counter-mines were exploded; the turks delivered eighteen assaults, the besieged made twenty-four sorties. each inch of ground was only obtained by dint of a hard and long struggle, in which an equal stubbornness both in attack and defence was exhibited. the hottest fighting took place at the "label" bastion, around which there was not a foot of ground that had not been steeped in the blood of friend or foe. however, by degrees the turks gained a few paces; at the end of august they were lodged in the ditches of the city; and on september th they sprung a mine under the "bourg" bastion; one-half of the city was shaken thereby, and a breach was rent in the bastion wide enough for an assault to be delivered, but the enemy was repulsed. next day the turks attacked it with renewed courage, but the valor of the besieged baffled the assailants. on september th another mine was sprung under the same bastion, and the breach was so wide that a battalion might have entered it abreast. the danger was extreme, for the garrison was exhausted by fighting, sickness, and incessant labor. the count de starhemberg despatched courier after courier to the duke of lorraine for succor: "there is not a moment to be lost, monseigneur," he wrote, "not a moment;" and vienna, exhausted, saw not yet her liberators arrive. at length, on the th, when the whole city was in a stupor in the immediate expectation of an attack, a movement was observed in the enemy's camp which announced that succor was at hand. at five o'clock in the afternoon the christian army was descried surmounting the hill of kahlen, and it made its presence known by a salvo of artillery. john sobieski had arrived at the head of a valiant army. the electors of saxony and of bavaria with many princes, dukes, and margraves of germany had brought with them fresh troops. charles of lorraine might then dare to march against the moslems, although he had yet only forty-six thousand men. the army of sobieski reached klosterenburg, koenigstetten, st. andré, the valley of hagen and kirling, where it effected its junction with the austrians and the saxons who had arrived there in passing by hoeflin. on sunday, september th, in the earliest rays of a fine autumnal day, the holy priest marco d'aviano celebrated mass in the chapel of kahlenberg, and the king of poland served him during the sacrifice. afterward, sobieski made his son kneel down and dubbed him a knight in remembrance of the great occasion on which he was going to be present; then, turning toward his officers, he reminded them of the victory of choczim, adding that the triumph they were about to achieve under the walls of vienna would not only save a city, but christendom. next morning the christian army descended the hill of kahlen in order of battle. a salvo of five cannon-shot gave the signal for the fight. sobieski commanded the right wing, the duke of lorraine the left, under whose orders served prince eugene of savoy, then aged nineteen. the elector of bavaria was in the centre. the village of naussdorf, situated upon the danube, was attacked by the saxon and imperial troops which formed the left wing, and carried after an obstinate resistance. toward noon the king of poland, having descended into the plain with the right wing, at the head of his polish cavalry, attacked the innumerable squadrons of turkish horse. flinging himself upon the enemy's centre with all the fury of a hurricane, he spread confusion in their ranks; but his courage carried him too far; he was surrounded and was on the point of being overwhelmed by numbers. then, shouting for aid, the german cavalry, which had followed him, charged the enemy at full gallop, delivered the king, and soon put the turks to flight on all sides. the right wing had decided the victory; by seven o'clock in the evening the deliverance of vienna was achieved. the bodies of more than ten thousand infidels strewed the field of battle. but all those combats were mere preludes to the great battle which must decide the fortune of the war. for the turkish camp, with its thousands of tents, could still be seen spreading around as far as the eye could reach, and its artillery continued to play upon the city. the victorious commander-in-chief was holding a council of war to decide whether to give battle again on that same day, or wait till the morrow to give his troops an interval of rest, when a messenger came with the announcement that the enemy appeared to be in full flight; and it proved to be the fact. a panic had seized the turks, who fled in disorder, abandoning their camp and baggage; and soon even those who were attacking the city were seen in full flight with the rest of the army. the booty found in the turkish camp was immense: three hundred pieces of heavy artillery, five thousand tents, that of the grand vizier with all the military chests and the chancery. the treasures amounted to fifteen million crowns; the tent of the vizier alone yielded four hundred thousand crowns. two millions also were found in the military chest; arms studded with precious stones, the equipments of kara mustapha, fell into the hands of the victors. in their flight the mussulmans threw away arms, baggage, and banners, with the exception of the holy standard of the prophet, which, nevertheless, the imperials pretended to have seized. the king of poland received for his share four million florins; and in a letter to his wife--the sole delight of his soul, his dear and well-beloved mariette--he speaks of that booty and of the happiness of having delivered vienna. "all the enemy's camp," he wrote, "with the whole of his artillery and all his enormous riches, have fallen into our hands. we are driving before us a host of camels, mules, and turkish prisoners." count starhemberg received the king of poland in the magnificent tent of the grand vizier and greeted him as a deliverer. next day sobieski, accompanied by the elector of bavaria and the different commanders, traversed the city on horseback, preceded by a great banner of cloth of gold and two tall gilded staves bearing the horse-tails which had been planted in front of the grand vizier's tent, as a symbol of supreme command. in the loretto chapel of the augustins the hero threw himself upon his face before the altar and chanted the _te deum_. vienna was delivered; the flood of ottomans, that had beaten against its walls one hundred fifty-four years previously, had returned more furiously, more menacing still, against that dignified protectress of european civilization, but this time it had been repelled never to return. thus vanished the insane hopes of the grand vizier. if demetrius cantemir may be believed, kara mustapha had desired to capture vienna to appropriate it to himself and found in the west an empire of which he would have been the sovereign. "that subject," says the historian, "who only held his power from the sultan, despised in his heart the sultan himself; and as he found himself at the head of all the disciplined troops of the empire, he looked upon his master as a shadow denuded of strength and substance, who, being very inferior in courage to him, could never oppose to him an army like that which was under his command. for all that concerned the emperor of germany, he appeared still less to be feared: being a prince bare and despoiled so soon as he should have lost vienna. it was thus that kara mustapha reasoned within himself. "already he casts his eyes over the treasures which he has in his possession; with the money of the sultan he has also brought his own; all that of the german princes is going to be his; for he believes that it is amassed in the city he is besieging. if he needs support, he reckons upon the different governors of hungary as devoted to his interests; these are his creatures, whom he has put into their posts during the seven years of his vizierate; not one of those functionaries dare offer an obstacle to the elevation of his benefactor. ibrahim pacha, beylerbey of buda, keeps him in suspense by reason of the influence that his fame gives him over the army and over hungary; he must be won over before all else, as well as the chief officers of the janizaries and the spahis. ibrahim shall be made king of hungary. the different provinces comprised in that kingdom shall be divided into _timars_ for appanage of the spahis, and all the rest of the soldiery shall have establishments in the towns, as so many new colonies; to them shall be assigned the lands of the old inhabitants, who will be driven out or reduced to slavery. he reserves for himself the title of sultan, his share shall be all germany as far as the frontiers of france, with transylvania and poland, which he intends to render subject or at least make tributary the year following." such are the projects that cantemir attributes to kara mustapha; the intervention of sobieski caused these chimerical plans quickly to vanish. the emperor leopold, who returned to vienna on september th, instead of expressing his thanks and gratitude to the commanders who had rescued his capital, received them with the haughty and repulsive coldness prescribed by the etiquette of the imperial court. sobieski nevertheless continued his services by pursuing the retreating turks. awakened from his dream of self-exaltation, the grand vizier retook the road toward turkey, directing his steps to the raab, where he rallied the remnants of his army. thence he marched toward buda, and attacked by the way the styrian town of lilenfeld; he was repulsed by the prelate matthias kalweis, and avenged himself for that fresh check by devastating lower styria. he crossed the danube by a bridge of boats at parkany; but the poles vigorously disputed the passage with him, and he again lost more than eight thousand men taken or slain by the christians. shortly after, the fortress of gran opened its gates to kara mustapha. the grand vizier barbarously put to death the officers who had signed the capitulation; he threw upon his generals the responsibility of his reverses, and thought to stifle in blood the murmurs of his accusers. the army marched in disorder as though struck with a panic terror. kara mustapha wished that a jew whom he despatched to belgrad should be escorted by a troop of horsemen. "i have no need of an escort," replied the jew: "i have only to wear my cap in the german fashion, and not a turk will touch me." the enemies of the grand vizier, however, conspired to effect his ruin at constantinople; and the results of the campaign justified the predictions of the party of peace. mahomet iv, enraged at these disasters, sent his grand chamberlain to belgrad with orders to bring back the head of the vizier ( ): it was, in fact, brought to the sultan in a silver dish. %monmouth's rebellion% a.d. gilbert burnet james ii was scarcely seated on the english throne in when serious disturbances began in his realm. the king had inherited the peculiar traits of the stuarts. his first purpose was to overcome the parliamentary power and make himself absolute ruler. he was likewise a roman catholic, and one of his objects was the suppression of english protestantism. during the first days of his reign the protestant peasants in the west of england rose in revolt. they supported the claims of james fitzroy, duke of monmouth, to the throne. monmouth was the (reputed) illegitimate son of charles ii and lucy walters. with other exiled malcontents, english and scotch, he had taken refuge in holland. one of those exiled was the earl of argyle, whose father had figured prominently on the side of the scottish presbyterians against charles i. owing to national jealousy, the english and scotch in holland could not act in unison, but all were determined to strike against james. two expeditions were planned--one under argyle, who expected to find forces awaiting him in scotland; the other under monmouth, whose adherents were to join him in the west of england. argyle's attempt miscarried through disagreement among the leaders, and the earl was taken and beheaded, june , . what befell the enterprise of monmouth is told by bishop burnet, a contemporary historian. monmouth was executed july , , and in the trials known as the "bloody assizes," presided over by the brutal george jeffreys, some three hundred of the duke's followers were condemned to death, and more than a thousand otherwise punished. as soon as lord argyle sailed for scotland, monmouth set about his design with as much haste as possible. arms were brought and a ship was freighted for bilbao in spain. he pawned all his jewels, but these could not raise much, and no money was sent to him out of england. so he was hurried into an ill-designed invasion. the whole company consisted but of eighty-two persons. they were all faithful to one another. but some spies whom shelton, the new envoy, set on work, sent him the notice of a suspected ship sailing out of amsterdam with arms. shelton neither understood the laws of holland nor advised with those who did; otherwise he would have carried with him an order from the admiralty of holland, that sat at the hague, to be made use of as the occasion should require. when he came to amsterdam, and applied himself to the magistrates there, desiring them to stop and search the ship that he named, they found the ship was already sailed out of their port and their jurisdiction went no further. so he was forced to send to the admiralty at the hague. but those on board, hearing what he was come for, made all possible haste. and, the wind favoring them, they got out of the texel before the order desired could be brought from the hague. after a prosperous course, the duke landed at lyme in dorsetshire (june , ); and he with his small company came ashore with some order, but with too much daylight, which discovered how few they were. the alarm was brought hot to london, where, upon the general report and belief of the thing, an act of attainder passed both houses in one day; some small opposition being made by the earl of anglesey, because the evidence did not seem clear enough for so severe a sentence, which was grounded on the notoriety of the thing. the sum of five thousand pounds was set on his head. and with that the session of parliament ended; which was no small happiness to the nation, such a body of men being dismissed with doing so little hurt. the duke of monmouth's manifesto was long and ill-penned--full of much black and dull malice. it charged the king with the burning of london, the popish plot, godfrey's murder, and the earl of essex's death; and to crown all, it was pretended that the late king was poisoned by his orders: it was set forth that the king's religion made him incapable of the crown; that three subsequent houses of commons had voted his exclusion: the taking away of the old charters, and all the hard things done in the last reign, were laid to his charge: the elections of the present parliament were also set forth very odiously, with great indecency of style; the nation was also appealed to, when met in a free parliament, to judge of the duke's own pretensions;[ ] and all sort of liberty, both in temporals and spirituals, was promised to persons of all persuasions. [footnote : he asserted that his mother had been the lawful wife of his father.--ed.] upon the duke of monmouth's landing, many of the country people came in to join him, but very few of the gentry. he had quickly men enough about him to use all his arms. the duke of albemarle, as lord lieutenant of devonshire, was sent down to raise the militia, and with them to make head against him. but their ill-affection appeared very evident; many deserted, and all were cold in the service. the duke of monmouth had the whole country open to him for almost a fortnight, during which time he was very diligent in training and animating his men. his own behavior was so gentle and obliging that he was master of all their hearts as much as was possible. but he quickly found what it was to be at the head of undisciplined men, that knew nothing of war, and that were not to be used with rigor. soon after their landing, lord grey was sent out with a small party. he saw a few of the militia, and he ran for it; but his men stood, and the militia ran from them. lord grey brought a false alarm, that was soon found to be so, for the men whom their leader had abandoned came back in good order. the duke of monmouth was struck with this when he found that the person on whom he depended most, and for whom he designed the command of the horse, had already made himself infamous by his cowardice. he intended to join fletcher with him in that command. but an unhappy accident made it not convenient to keep him longer about him. he sent him out on another party, and he, not being yet furnished with a horse, took the horse of one who had brought in a great body of men from taunton. he was not in the way, so fletcher not seeing him to ask his leave, thought that all things were to be in common among them that could advance the service. after fletcher had ridden about as he was ordered, as he returned, the owner of the horse he rode on--who was a rough and ill-bred man--reproached him in very injurious terms for taking out his horse without his leave. fletcher bore this longer than could have been expected from one of his impetuous temper. but the other persisted in giving him foul language, and offered a switch or a cudgel, upon which he discharged his pistol at him and shot him dead. he went and gave the duke of monmouth an account of this, who saw it was impossible to keep him longer about him without disgusting and losing the country people who were coming in a body to demand justice. so he advised him to go aboard the ship and to sail on to spain whither she was bound. by this means he was preserved for that time. ferguson ran among the people with all the fury of an enraged man that affected to pass for an enthusiast, though all his performances that way were forced and dry. the duke of monmouth's great error was that he did not in the first heat venture on some hardy action and then march either to exeter or bristol; where as he would have found much wealth, so he would have gained some reputation by it. but he lingered in exercising his men and stayed too long in the neighborhood of lyme. by this means the king had time both to bring troops out of scotland, after argyle was taken, and to send to holland for the english and scotch regiments that were in the service of the states; which the prince sent over very readily and offered his own person, and a greater force, if it were necessary. the king received this with great expressions of acknowledgment and kindness. it was very visible that he was much distracted in his thoughts, and that, what appearance of courage soever he might put on, he was inwardly full of apprehensions and fears. he dare not accept of the offer of assistance that the french made him; for by that he would have lost the hearts of the english nation, and he had no mind to be so much obliged to the prince of orange or to let him into his counsels or affairs. prince george committed a great error in not asking the command of the army; for the command, how much soever he might have been bound to the counsels of others, would have given him some lustre; whereas his staying at home in such times of danger brought him under much neglect. the king could not choose worse than he did when he gave the command to the earl of feversham, who was a frenchman by birth--and nephew to m. de turenne. both his brothers changing religion--though he continued still a protestant--made that his religion was not much trusted to. he was an honest, brave, and good-natured man, but weak to a degree not easy to be conceived. and he conducted matters so ill that every step he made was like to prove fatal to the king's service. he had no parties abroad. he got no intelligence, and was almost surprised and like to be defeated, when he seemed to be under no apprehension, but was abed without any care or order. so that if the duke of monmouth had got but a very small number of good soldiers about him, the king's affairs would have fallen into great disorder. the duke of monmouth had almost surprised lord feversham and all about him while they were abed. he got in between two bodies, into which the army lay divided. he now saw his error in lingering so long. he began to want bread, and to be so straitened that there was a necessity of pushing for a speedy decision. he was so misled in his march that he lost an hour's time, and when he came near the army there was an inconsiderable ditch, in the passing which he lost so much more time that the officers had leisure to rise and be dressed, now they had the alarm. and they put themselves in order. yet the duke of monmouth's foot stood longer and fought better than could have been expected; especially, when the small body of horse they had, ran upon the first charge, the blame of which was cast on lord grey. the foot being thus forsaken and galled by the cannon, did run at last. about a thousand of them were killed on the spot, and fifteen hundred were taken prisoners. their numbers, when fullest, were between five and six thousand. the duke of monmouth left the field[ ] too soon for a man of courage who had such high pretensions; for a few days before he had suffered himself to be called king, which did him no service, even among those that followed him. he rode toward dorsetshire; and when his horse could carry him no further he changed clothes with a shepherd and went as far as his legs could carry him, being accompanied only by a german whom he had brought over with him. at last, when he could go no farther, they lay down in a field where there was hay and straw, with which they covered themselves, so that they hoped to lie there unseen till night. parties went out on all hands to take prisoners. the shepherd was found by lord lumley in the duke of monmouth's clothes. so this put them on his track, and having some dogs with them, they followed the scent, and came to the place where the german was first discovered. and he immediately pointed to the place where the duke of monmouth lay. so he was taken in a very indecent dress and posture. [footnote : this engagement took place at ledgemoor, somerset, july , .--ed.] his body was quite sunk with fatigue, and his mind was now so low that he begged his life in a manner that agreed ill with the courage of the former parts of it. he called for pen, ink, and paper, and wrote to the earl of feversham, and both to the queen and the queen dowager, to intercede with the king for his life. the king's temper, as well as his interest, made it so impossible to hope for that, that it showed a great meanness in him to ask it in such terms as he used in his letters. he was carried up to whitehall, where the king examined him in person, which was thought very indecent, since he was resolved not to pardon him.[ ] he made new and unbecoming submissions, and insinuated a readiness to change his religion; for, he said, the king knew what his first education was in religion. there were no discoveries to be got from him; for the attempt was too rash to be well concerted, or to be so deep laid that many were involved in the guilt of it. he was examined on monday, and orders were given for his execution on wednesday. [footnote : the duke of monmouth pressed extremely that the king would see him, whence the king concluded he had something to say to him that he would tell to nobody else; but when he found it ended in nothing but lower submission than he either expected or desired, he told him plainly he had put it out of his power to pardon him by having proclaimed himself king. thus may the most innocent actions of a man's life be sometimes turned to his disadvantage.--ed.] turner and ken, the bishops of ely and of bath and wells, were ordered to wait on him. but he called for dr. tennison. the bishops studied to convince him of the sin of rebellion. he answered, he was sorry for the blood that was shed in it, but he did not seem to repent of the design. yet he confessed that his father had often told him that there was no truth in the reports of his having married his mother. this he set under his hand, probably for his children's sake, who were then prisoners in the tower, that so they might not be ill-used on his account. he showed a great neglect of his duchess. and her resentments for his course of life with lady wentworth wrought so much on her that she seemed not to have any of that tenderness left that became her sex and his present circumstances, for when he desired to speak privately with her she would have witnesses to hear all that passed, to justify herself, and to preserve her family. they parted very coldly. he only recommended to her the rearing of their children in the protestant religion. the bishops continued still to press on him a deep sense of the sin of rebellion; at which he grew so uneasy that he desired them to speak to him of other matters. they next charged him with the sin of living with lady wentworth, as he had done. in that he justified himself; he had married his duchess too young to give a true consent; he said that lady was a pious worthy woman, and that he had never lived so well, in all respects, as since his engagements with her. all the pains they took to convince him of the unlawfulness of that course of life had no effect. they did certainly very well in discharging their consciences and speaking so plainly to him. but they did very ill to talk so much of this matter and to make it so public, as they did, for divines ought not to repeat what they say to dying penitents no more than what the penitents say to them. by this means the duke of monmouth had little satisfaction in them and they had as little in him. he was much better pleased with dr. tennison, who did very plainly speak to him with relation to his public actings and to his course of life; but he did it in a softer and less peremptory manner. and having said all that he thought proper, he left those points, in which he saw he could not convince him, to his own conscience, and turned to other things fit to be laid before a dying man. the duke begged one day more of life with such repeated earnestness that as the king was much blamed for denying so small a favor, so it gave occasion to others to believe that he had some hope from astrologers that if he outlived that day he might have a better fate. as long as he fancied there was any hope, he was too much unsettled in his mind to be capable of anything. but when he saw all was to no purpose and that he must die he complained a little that his death was hurried on so fast. but all on a sudden he came into a composure of mind that surprised those that saw it. there was no affectation in it. his whole behavior was easy and calm, not without a decent cheerfulness. he prayed god to forgive all his sins, unknown as well as known. he seemed confident of the mercies of god, and that he was going to be happy with him. and he went to the place of execution on tower hill with an air of undisturbed courage that was grave and composed. he said little there, only that he was sorry for the blood that was shed, but he had ever meant well to the nation. when he saw the axe he touched it and said it was not sharp enough. he gave the hangman but half the reward he intended, and said if he cut off his head cleverly, and not so butcherly as he did the lord russel's, his man would give him the rest. the executioner was in great disorder, trembling all over; so he gave him two or three strokes without being able to finish the matter and then flung the axe out of his hand. but the sheriff forced him to take it up; and at three or four more strokes he severed his head from his body and both were presently buried in the chapel of the tower. thus lived and died this unfortunate young man. he had several good qualities in him, and some that were as bad. he was soft and gentle even to excess and too easy to those who had credit with him. he was both sincere and good-natured, and understood war well. but he was too much given to pleasure and to favorites. %revocation of the edict of nantes% a.d. bon louis henri martin it was one of the glories of henry of navarre to end the religious wars of france by publishing the edict of nantes ( ), which placed catholics and protestants on a practically equal footing as subjects. by the revocation of that edict, in , louis xiv opened the way for fresh persecution of the huguenots. of the hundreds of thousands whom the king and his agents then caused to flee the country and seek civil and religious liberty in other lands, many crossed the sea and settled in the colonies of north america, especially in south carolina. by revoking the edict of nantes louis xiv arrayed against himself all the protestant countries of europe. by seizures of territory he also offended catholic states. in the league of augsburg combined the greater part of europe for resisting his encroachments. this period of the "huguenots of the dispersion" was marked by complicated strifes in politics, religion, and philosophy. it was one of the most reactionary epochs in french history. no writer has better depicted the time, with the severities, atrocities, and effects of the revocation of the great edict, than martin, the celebrated historian of his country. for many years the government of louis xiv had been acting toward the reformation as toward a victim entangled in a noose which is drawn tighter and tighter till it strangles its prey. in the oppressed had finally lost patience, and their partial attempts at resistance, disavowed by the most distinguished of their brethren, had been stifled in blood. after the truce of ratisbon, declarations and decrees hostile to protestantism succeeded each other with frightful rapidity; nothing else was seen in the official gazette. protestant ministers were prohibited from officiating longer than three years in the same church (august, ); protestant individuals were forbidden to give asylum to their sick coreligionists; the sick who were not treated at home were required to go to the hospitals, where they were put in the hands of churchmen. a beautiful and touching request, written by pastor claude, was in vain presented to the king in january, . each day beheld some protestant church closed for contraventions either imaginary or fraudulently fabricated by persecutors. it was enough that the child of a "convert" or a bastard (all bastards were reputed catholic) should enter a protestant church for the exercise of worship, to be interdicted there. if this state of things had continued long, not a single protestant church would have been left. the protestant academy or university of saumur, which had formed so many eminent theologians and orators, was closed; the ministers were subjected to the villein tax for their real estate (january, ). the quinquennial assembly of the clergy, held in may, presented to the king a multitude of new demands against the heretics; among others, for the establishment of penalties against the "converts" who did not fulfil their duties as catholics. the penalty of death, which had been decreed against emigrants, was commuted into perpetual confinement in the galleys, by the request of the clergy. the first penalty had been little more than a threat; the second, which confounded with the vilest miscreants, unfortunates guilty of having desired to flee from persecution, was to be applied in the sternest reality! it was extended to protestants living in france who should authorize their children to marry foreigners. it was interdicted to reformers to follow the occupation of printer or bookseller. it was forbidden to confer on them degrees in arts, law, or medicine. protestant orphans could have only catholic guardians. half of the goods of emigrants was promised to informers. it was forbidden to reformers to preach or write against catholicism (july, august, ). a multitude of protestant churches had been demolished, and the inhabitants of places where worship had been suppressed were prohibited from going to churches in places where it was still permitted. grave difficulties resulted with respect to the principal acts of civil life, which, among protestants as among catholics, owed their authenticity only to the intervention of ministers of religion. a decree in council of september , , enacted that, in places deprived of the exercise of worship, a pastor chosen by the intendant of the generality should celebrate, in the presence of relatives only, the marriages of reformers; that their bans should be published to the congregations, and the registries of their marriages entered on the rolls of the local court. similar decrees had been issued concerning baptisms and burials. hitherto protestantism had been struck right and left with all kinds of weapons, without any very definite method: these decrees seemed to indicate a definite plan; that is, the suppression of external worship, with a certain tolerance, at least provisionally, for conscience, and a kind of civil state separately constituted for obstinate protestants. this plan had, in fact, been debated in council. "the king," wrote madame de maintenon, august , , "has it in mind to work for the _entire_ conversion of heretics; he has frequent conferences for this purpose with m. le tellier and m. de chateauneuf (the secretary of state charged with the affairs of the so-called reformed religion), in which they wish to persuade me to take part. m. de chateauneuf has proposed means that are unsuitable. things must not be hastened. _it is necessary to convert, not to persecute_. m. de louvois prefers mild measures which do not accord with his nature and his eagerness to see things ended." the means proposed by chateauneuf was apparently the immediate revocation of the edict of nantes, which was judged premature. as to the "mildness" of louvois, it was soon seen in operation. louvois pretended to be moderate, lest the king, through scruples of humanity, should hesitate to confer on him the management of the affair. he had his plan ready: it was to recur to the "salutary constraint" already tried in by the instrumentality of soldiers to the dragonade. colbert was no longer at hand to interpose obstacles to this. louvois had persuaded the king that in the moral situation of protestant communities it would be enough "to show them the troops," to compel them to abjure. the troops had been "shown," therefore, to the reformers of béarn; the intendant of that province, foucault, had come to paris to concert with the minister the management of the enterprise; louvois could not have found a fitter instrument than this pitiless and indefatigable man, who had the soul of an inquisitor under the garb of a pliant courtier. on his return from paris, foucault, seconded by the parliament of pau and the clergy, began by the demolition, on account of "contraventions," of fifteen out of twenty protestant churches that remained in béarn, and the "conversion" of eleven hundred persons in two months (february-april, ). he then called for the assistance of the army to complete the work, promising "to keep a tight rein over the soldiers, so that they should do no violence." this was for the purpose of allaying the scruples of the king. the troops were therefore concentrated in the cities and villages filled with reformers; the five remaining protestant churches shared the fate of the rest, and the pastors were banished, some to a distance of six leagues from their demolished churches, others beyond the jurisdiction of the parliament of pau. terror flew before the soldiers; as soon as the scarlet uniforms and the high caps of the dragoons were descried, corporations, whole cities, sent their submission to the intendant. an almost universal panic chilled all hearts. the mass of reformers signed or verbally accepted a confession of the catholic faith, suffered themselves to be led to the church, bowed their heads to the benediction of the bishop or the missionary, and cannon and bonfires celebrated the "happy reconciliation." protestants who had hoped to find a refuge in liberty of conscience without external worship saw this hope vanish. foucault paid no attention to the decrees in council that regulated the baptisms, marriages, and burials of protestants, because, he said in a despatch to the minister, "in the present disposition to general and speedy conversion, this would expose those who waver, and harden the obstinate." the council issued a new order confirmatory of the preceding ones, and specially for béarn. foucault, according to his own words, "did not judge proper to execute it." this insolence went unpunished. success justified everything. before the end of august the twenty-two thousand protestants of béarn were "converted," save a few hundred. foucault, in his _memoirs_, in which he exhibits his triumphs with cynicism, does not, however, avow all the means. although he confesses that "the distribution of money drew many souls to the church," he does not say how he kept his promise of preventing the "soldiers from doing any violence." he does not recount the brutalities, the devastations, the tortures resorted to against the refractory, the outrages to women, nor how these soldiers took turns from hour to hour to hinder their hosts from sleeping during entire weeks till these unfortunates, stupefied, delirious, signed an abjuration. the king saw only the result. the resolution was taken to send everywhere these "booted missionaries" who had succeeded so well in béarn. louvois sent, on the part of the king, july st, a command to the marquis de boufflers, their general, to lead them into guienne, and "to quarter them all on the reformers"; "observing to endeavor to diminish the number of reformers in such a manner that in each community the catholics shall be twice or three times more numerous than they; so that when, in due time, his majesty shall wish no longer to permit the exercise of this religion in his kingdom, he may no longer have to apprehend that the small number that shall remain can undertake anything." the troops were to be withdrawn as fast as this object should be obtained in each place, without undertaking to convert all at once. the ministers should be driven out of the country, and by no means should they be retained by force; the pastors absent, the flocks could more easily be brought to reason. the soldiers were to commit "no other disorders than to levy (daily) twenty sous for each horseman or dragoon, and ten sous for each foot-soldier." excesses were to be severely punished. louvois, in another letter, warned the general not to yield to all the suggestions of the ecclesiastics, nor even of the intendants. they did not calculate on being able to proceed so rapidly as in béarn. these instructions show precisely, not what was done, but what the king wished should be done. the subalterns, sure of immunity in case of success, acted more in accordance with the spirit of louvois than according to the words dictated by louis. the king, when by chance he heard that his orders had been transcended, rarely chastised the transgressor, lest it might be "said to the reformers that his majesty disapproves of whatsoever has been done to convert them." louis xiv, therefore, cannot repudiate, before history, his share of this terrible responsibility. the result exceeded the hopes of the king and of louvois. guienne yielded as easily as béarn. the church of montauban, the head-quarters of the reformation in this region, was "reunited" in great majority, after several days of military vexations; bergerac held out a little longer; then all collective resistance ceased. the cities and villages, for ten or twelve leagues around, sent to the military leaders their promises of abjuration. in three weeks there were sixty thousand conversions in the district of bordeaux or lower guienne, twenty thousand in that of montauban or upper guienne. according to the reports of boufflers, louvois, september th, reckoned that before the end of the month there would not remain in lower guienne ten thousand reformers out of the one hundred fifty thousand found there august th. "there is not a courier," wrote madame de maintenon, september th, "that does not bring the king great causes of joy; to wit, news of conversions by thousands." the only resistance that they deigned to notice here and there was that of certain provincial gentlemen, of simple and rigid habits, less disposed than the court nobility to sacrifice their faith to interest and vanity. guienne subjected, the army of béarn was marched, a part into limousin, saintonge, and poitou, a part into languedoc. poitou, already "dragooned" in by the intendant marillac, had just been so well labored with by marillac's successor, lamoignon de basville, aided by some troops, that foucault, sent from béarn into poitou, found nothing more to glean. the king even caused louvois to recommend that they should not undertake to convert all the reformers at once, lest the rich and powerful families, who had in their hands the commerce of those regions, should avail themselves of the proximity of the sea to take flight (september th). basville, a great administrator, but harshly inflexible, was sent from poitou into lower languedoc, in the first part of september, in order to coöperate there with the duke de noailles, governor of the province. the intendant of lower languedoc, d'aguesseau, although he had zealously coöperated in all the restrictive measures of the reformed worship, had asked for his recall as soon as he had seen that the king was determined on the employment of military force; convinced that this determination would not be less fatal to religion than to the country, he retired, broken-hearted, his spirit troubled for the future. the conversion of languedoc seemed a great undertaking. the mass of protestants, nearly all concentrated in lower languedoc, and in the mountainous regions adjoining, was estimated at more than two hundred forty thousand souls; these people, more ardent, more constant than the mobile and sceptical gascons, did not seem capable of so easily abandoning their belief. the result, however, was the same as elsewhere. nîmes and montpellier followed the example of montauban. the quartering of a hundred soldiers in their houses quickly reduced the notables of nîmes; in this diocese alone, the principal centre of protestantism, sixty thousand souls abjured in three days. several of the leading ministers did the same. from nîmes the duc de noailles led the troops into the mountains. cévennes and gevaudan submitted to invasion like the rest, as the armed mission advanced from valley to valley. these cantons were still under the terror of the sanguinary repressions of , and had been disarmed, as far as it was possible, as well as all lower languedoc. noailles, in the earlier part of october, wrote to louvois that he would answer "upon his head" that, before the end of november, the province would contain no more huguenots. if we are to believe his letters, prepared for the eyes of the king, everything must have taken place "with all possible wisdom and discipline"; but the chancellor d'aguesseau, in the "life" of his father, the intendant, teaches us what we are to think of it. "the manner in which this miracle was wrought," he says, "the singular facts that were recounted to us day by day, would have sufficed to pierce a heart less religious than that of my father!" noailles himself, in a confidential letter, announced to louvois that he would ere long send "some capable men to answer about any matters which he desired to know, and about which he could not write." there was a half tacit understanding established between the minister, the military chiefs, and the intendants. the king, in their opinion, desired the end without sufficiently desiring the means. dauphiny, limousin, la rochelle, that holy zion of the huguenots, all yielded at the same time. louis was intoxicated. it had sufficed for him to say a word, to lay his hand upon the hilt of his sword, to make those fierce huguenots, who had formerly worn out so many armies, and had forced so many kings to capitulate before their rebellions, fall at his feet and the feet of the church. who would henceforth dare to doubt his divine mission and his infallible genius! not that louis, nor especially those that surrounded him, precisely believed that terror produced the effects of _grace_, or that these innumerable conversions were sincere; but they saw in this the extinction of all strong conviction among the heretics, the moral exhaustion of an expiring sect. "the children at least will be catholics, if the fathers are hypocrites," wrote madame de maintenon. at present it was necessary to complete the work and to prevent dangerous relapses in these subjugated multitudes. it was necessary to put to flight as quickly as possible the "false pastors" who might again lead their old flocks astray, and to make the law conform to the fact, by solemnly revoking the concessions formerly wrung by powerful and armed heresy from the feebleness of the ruling power. louis had long preserved some scruples about the violation of engagements entered into by his grandfather henry iv; but his last doubts had been set at rest, several months since, by a "special council of conscience," composed of two theologians and two jurisconsults, who had decided that he might and should revoke the edict of nantes. the names of the men who took upon themselves the consequences of such a decision have remained unknown: doubtless the confessor la chaise was one of the theologians; who was the other? the archbishop of paris, harlai, was not, perhaps, in sufficient esteem, on account of his habits. the great name of the bishop of meaux naturally presents itself to the mind; but neither the correspondence of bossuet nor the documents relating to his life throw any light on this subject, and we know not whether a direct and material responsibility must be added to the moral responsibility with which the maxims of bossuet and the spirit of his works burden his memory. after the "council of conscience," the council of the king was convened for a definitive deliberation in the earlier part of october. some of the ministers, apparently the two colberts, seignelai, and croissi, insinuated that it would be better not to be precipitate. the dauphin, a young prince of twenty-four, who resembled, in his undefined character, his grandfather more than his father, and who was destined to remain always as it were lost in the splendid halo of louis the great, attempted an intervention that deserves to rescue his name from oblivion. "he represented, from an anonymous memorial that had been addressed to him the evening before, that it was, perhaps, to be apprehended that the huguenots might take up arms;" "that in case they did not dare to do this, a great number would leave the kingdom, which would injure commerce and agriculture, and thereby even weaken the state." the king replied that he had foreseen all and provided for all, that nothing in the world would be more painful to him than to shed a drop of the blood of his subjects, but that he had armies and good generals whom he would employ, in case of necessity, against rebels who desired their own destruction. as to the argument of interest, he judged it little worthy of consideration, compared with the advantages of an undertaking that would restore to religion its splendor, to the state its tranquillity, and to authority all its rights. the suppression of the edict of nantes was resolved upon without further opposition. father la chaise and louvois, according to their ecclesiastical and military correspondence, had promised that it should not even cost the drop of blood of which the king spoke. the aged chancellor le tellier, already a prey to the malady that was to bring him to his grave, drew up with trembling hand the fatal declaration, which the king signed october th. louis professed in this preamble to do nothing but continue the pious designs of his grandfather and his father for the reunion of their subjects to the church. he spoke of the "perpetual and irrevocable" edict of henry iv as a temporary regulation. "our cares," he said, "since the truce that we facilitated for this purpose, have had the effect that we proposed to ourselves, since the better and the greater part of our subjects of the so-called reformed religion have embraced the catholic; and inasmuch as by reason of this the execution of the edict of nantes" "remains useless, we have judged that we could not do better, in order wholly to efface the memory of evils that this false religion had caused in our kingdom, than entirely to revoke the said edict of nantes and all that has been done since in favor of the said religion." the order followed to demolish unceasingly all the churches of the said religion situated in the kingdom. it was forbidden to assemble for the exercise of the said religion, in any place, private house or tenement, under penalty of confiscation of body and goods. all ministers of the said religion who would not be converted were enjoined to leave the kingdom in a fortnight, and divers favors were granted to those who should be converted. private schools for instruction of children in the said religion were interdicted. children who should be born to those of the said religion should for the future be baptized by the parish curates, under penalty of a fine of five hundred livres, and still more, if there were occasion, to be paid by the parents, and the children should then be brought up in the catholic religion. a delay of four months was granted to fugitive reformers to leave the kingdom and recover possession of their property; this delay passed, the property should remain confiscated. it was forbidden anew to reformers to leave the kingdom, under penalty of the galleys for men, and confiscation of body and goods for women. the declarations against backsliders were confirmed. a last article, probably obtained by the representations of the colberts, declared that the reformers, "till it should please god to enlighten them like others, should be permitted to dwell in the kingdom, in strict loyalty to the king, to continue there their commerce and enjoy their goods, without being molested or hindered under pretext of the said religion." the edict of revocation was sent in haste to the governors and intendants, without waiting for it to be registered, which took place in the parliament of paris, october d. the intendants were instructed not to allow the ministers who should abandon the country to dispose of their real estate, or to take with them their children above seven years of age: a monstrous dismemberment of the family wrought by an arbitrary will that recognized neither natural nor civil rights! the king recommended a milder course toward noblemen, merchants, and manufacturers; he did not desire that obstinacy should be shown "in compelling them to be converted immediately without exception" "by any considerable violence." the tone of the ministerial instructions changed quickly on the reception of despatches announcing the effect of the edict in the provinces. this effect teaches us more in regard to the situation of the dragooned people than could the most sinister narratives. the edict which proscribed the reformed worship, which interdicted the perpetuation of the protestant religion by tearing from it infants at their birth, was received as a boon by protestants who remained faithful to their belief. they saw, in the last article of the edict, the end of persecution, and, proud of having weathered the storm, they claimed the tolerance that the king promised them, and the removal of their executioners. the new converts, who, persuaded that the king desired to force all his subjects to profess his religion, had yielded through surprise, fear, want of constancy in suffering, or through a worthier motive, the desire of saving their families from the license of the soldiers, manifested their regret and their remorse, and were no longer willing to go to mass. all the leaders of the dragonades, the noailles, the foucaults, the basvilles, the marillacs, complained bitterly of a measure that was useless to them as to the demolition of protestant churches and the prohibition of worship, and very injurious as to the progress of conversions. they had counted on rooting out the worship by converting all the believers. the revocation of the edict of nantes sinned, therefore, in their eyes by excess of moderation! louvois hastened to reassure them in this respect, and authorized them to act as if the last article of the edict did not exist. "his majesty," he said, "desires that the extremest rigors of the law should be felt by those who will not make themselves of his religion, and those who shall have the foolish glory of wishing to remain the last must be pushed to the last extremity." "let the soldiers," he said elsewhere, "be allowed to live very licentiously!" (november, ). the king, however, did not mean it thus, and claimed that persecution should be conducted with method and gravity. but men do not stop at pleasure in evil: one abyss draws on another. the way had been opened to brutal and cynical passions, to the spirit of denunciation, to low and mean fanaticism; the infamies with which the subaltern agents polluted themselves recoiled upon the chiefs who did not repress them, and on this proud government that did not blush to add to the odium of persecution the shame of faithlessness! the chiefs of the dragonades judged it necessary to restrain the bad converts by making example of the obstinate; hence arose an inundation of horrors in which we see, as saint simon says, "the orthodox imitating against heretics the acts of pagan tyrants against confessors and martyrs." everything, in fact, was allowed the soldiers but rape and murder; and even this restriction was not always respected; besides, many of the unfortunate died or were maimed for life in consequence of the treatment to which they had been subjected; and the obscene tortures inflicted on women differed little from the last outrage, but in a perversity more refined. all the diabolic inventions of the highwaymen of the middle ages to extort gold from their captives were renewed here and there to secure conversions: the feet of the victims were scorched, they were strappadoed, suspended by the feet; young mothers were tied to the bedposts, while their infants at the breast were writhing with hunger before their eyes. "from torture to abjuration, and from this to communion, there was often not twenty-four hours' distance, and their executioners were their guides and witnesses. nearly all the bishops lent themselves to this sudden and impious practice." among the reformed whom nothing could shake, those who encouraged others to resistance by the influence of their character or social position were sent to the bastille or other state prisons; some were entombed in subterranean dungeons--in those dark pits, stifling or deadly cold, invented by feudal barbarism. the remains of animals in a state of putrefaction were sometimes thrown in after them, to redouble the horror! the hospital of valence and the tower of constance at aigues-mortes have preserved, in protestant martyrology, a frightful renown. the women usually showing themselves more steadfast than the men, the most obstinate were shut up in convents; infamous acts took place there; yet they were rare. it must be said to the honor of the sex, often too facile to the suggestions of fanaticism, that the nuns showed much more humanity and true religion than the priests and monks. astonished to see huguenot women so different from the idea they had formed of them, they almost became the protectors of victims that had been given them to torment. the abduction of children put the final seal to the persecution. the edict of revocation had only declared that children subsequently born should be brought up in the catholic religion. an edict of january, , prescribed that children from five to sixteen years of age should be taken from their heretical relatives and put in the hands of catholic relatives, or, if they had none, of catholics designated by the judges! the crimes that we have just indicated might, in strictness, be attributed to the passions of subaltern agents; but this mighty outrage against the family and nature must be charged to the government alone. with the revocation, the dragonade was extended, two places partially excepted, over all france. when the great harvest had been sufficiently gathered in the south and west, the reapers were sent elsewhere. the battalions of converters marched from province to province till they reached the northern frontier, carrying everywhere the same terror. metz, where the protestants were numerous, was particularly the theatre of abominable excesses. paris and alsace were alone, to a certain extent, preserved. louvois did not dare to show such spectacles to the society of versailles and paris; the king would not have endured it. the people of paris demolished the protestant church of charenton, an object of their ancient animosity; the ruling power weighed heavily upon the eight or nine thousand huguenots who remained in the capital, and constrained two-thirds of them, by intimidation, to a feigned conversion; but there were no striking acts of violence, except perhaps the banishment of thirty elders of the consistory to different parts of the kingdom, and the soldiers did not make their appearance. the lieutenant of police, la reinie, took care to reassure the leading merchants, and the last article of the edict of revocation was very nearly observed in paris and its environs. as to lutheran alsace, it had nothing in common with the system of the edict of nantes and the french calvinists: the treaty of westphalia, the capitulation of strasburg, all the acts that bound it to france, guaranteed to it a separate religious state. an attempt was indeed made to encroach upon lutheranism by every means of influence and by a system of petty annoyances; but direct attacks were limited to a suppression of public worship in places where the population was two-thirds catholic. the political events that soon disturbed europe compelled the french government to be circumspect toward the people of this recently conquered frontier. the converters indemnified themselves at the expense of another frontier population, that was not dependent on france. the vaudois, the first offspring of the reformation, had always kept possession of the high alpine valleys, on the confines of piedmont and dauphiny, in spite of the persecutions that they had repeatedly endured from the governments of france and piedmont. the piedmontese vaudois had their edict of nantes; that is, liberty of worship in the three valleys of st. martin, la luzerne, and la perouse. when the dragonade invaded dauphiny, the vaudois about briançon and pignerol took refuge in crowds with their brethren in the valleys subject to piedmont. the french government was unwilling to suffer them to remain in this asylum. the duke victor amadeus ii enjoined the refugees to quit his territory (november th). the order was imperfectly executed, and louis xiv demanded more. the duke, by an edict of february , , prohibited the exercise of heretical worship, and ordered the schools to be closed under penalty of death. the _barbes_ (ministers), schoolmasters, and french refugees were to leave the states of the duke in a fortnight, under the same penalty. the vaudois responded by taking up arms, without reflecting on the immense force of their oppressors. the three valleys were assailed at the same time by french and piedmontese troops. the french were commanded by the governor of casale, catinat, a man of noble heart, an elevated and philosophic mind, who deplored his fatal mission, and attempted to negotiate with the insurgents, but catinat could neither persuade to submission these men resolved to perish rather than renounce their faith, nor restrain the fury of his soldiers exasperated by the vigor of the resistance. the valleys of st. martin and la perouse were captured, and the victors committed frightful barbarities. meanwhile the piedmontese, after having induced the mountaineers, who guarded the entrance of the valley of la luzerne, to lay down their arms, by false promises, slaughtered three thousand women, children, and old men at the pré de la tour! the remotest recesses of the alps were searched; a multitude of unfortunates were exterminated singly: more than ten thousand were dragged as prisoners to the fortresses of piedmont, where most of them died of want. a handful of the bravest succeeding in maintaining themselves among the rocks, where they could not be captured, and, protected by the intervention of protestant powers, and especially of the swiss, finally obtained liberty to emigrate, both for themselves and their coreligionists. there has often been seen in history much greater bloodshed than that caused by the revocation of the edict of nantes, scenes of destruction planned more directly and on a vaster scale by governments, and sometimes the same contrast between an advanced state of civilization and acts of barbarity; but no spectacle wounds moral sense and humanity to the same degree as this persecution carried on coldly and according to abstract ideas, without the excuse of struggle and danger, without the ardent fever of battle and revolution. the very virtues of the persecutors are here but an additional monstrosity: doubtless, there is also seen, at a later period, among the authors of another reign of terror, this same contrast that astounds and troubles the conscience of posterity; but they, at least, staked each day their own lives against the lives of their adversaries, and, with their lives, the very existence of the country involved in their cause! a million and a half of frenchmen were in terror and despair; yet songs of victory resounded around louis the great. the aged le tellier lifted to heaven the hand that had just signed the revocation, and parodied, on the occasion of an edict that recalls the times of decius and diocletian, the canticle by which simeon hailed the birth of the redeemer. he died a fanatic, after having lived a cold and astute politician (october , ); he died, and the most eloquent voices of the gallican church broke forth in triumphal hymns, as over the tomb of a victorious hero! "let us publish this miracle of our days," exclaimed bossuet, in that funeral oration of le tellier, wherein he nevertheless exhibited apprehensions of new combats and of a sombre future for the church; "let us pour forth our hearts in praise of the piety of louis; let us lift our acclamations to heaven, and let us say to this new constantine, to this new theodosius, to this new marcianus, to this new charlemagne: 'you have strengthened the faith, you have exterminated the heretics; this is the meritorious work of your reign, its peculiar characteristic. through you heresy is no more: god alone could have wrought this wonder.'" the gentle fléchier himself echoed bossuet, with the whole corps of the clergy with the great mass of the people. paris and versailles, that did not witness the horror of the details, that saw only the general prestige and the victory of unity, were deaf to the doleful reports that came from the provinces, and applauded the "new constantine." "this is the grandest and finest thing that ever was conceived and accomplished," wrote madame de sévigné. all the corporations, courts of justice, academies, universities, municipal bodies, vied with each other in every species of laudatory allusion; medals represented the king crowned by religion "for having brought back to the church two millions of calvinists"; the number of victims was swollen in order to swell the glory of the persecutor. statues were erected to the "destroyer of heresy." this concert of felicitations was prolonged for years; the influence of example, the habit of admiring, wrung eulogies even from minds that, it would seem, ought to have remained strangers to this fascination; every writer thought he must pay his tribute; even la bruyere, that sagacious observer and excellent writer, whose acute and profound studies of manners appeared in ; and la fontaine himself, the poet of free-thought and of universal freedom of action. the government redoubled its rigor. the penalty of death was decreed against ministers reëntering the kingdom without permission, and the galleys against whomsoever should give them asylum; penalty of death against whomsoever should take part in a meeting (july , ). and this penalty was not simply a dead letter! whenever the soldiers succeeded in surprising protestants assembled for prayer in any solitary place, they first announced their presence by a volley; those who escaped the bullet and the sword were sent to the gallows or the galleys. measures almost as severe were employed to arrest emigration. seamen were forbidden to aid the reformers to escape under penalty of a fine for the first offence, and of corporal punishment for a second offence (november , ). they went further: ere long, whoever aided the flight of emigrants became liable to the galleys for life, like emigrants themselves (may , ). armed barks cruised along all the coasts; all the passes of the frontier were guarded; the peasants everywhere had orders to rush upon the fugitives. some of the emigrants perished in attempting to force an exit; a host of others was brought back manacled; they dared not place them all under the galley-master's lash; they feared the effects of their despair and of their numbers, if they should mass them in the royal galleys; they crowded the prisons with those who were unwilling to purchase pardon by abjuration. the misfortunes of the first emigrants served to render their coreligionists, not more timid, but more adroit; a multitude of pilgrims, of mendicants dragging their children after them, of nomadic artisans of both sexes and of all trades, incessantly took their way toward all the frontiers; innumerable disguises thus protected the "flight of israel out of egypt." reformers selected the darkest winter nights to embark, in frail open boats, on the atlantic or stormy channel; the waves were seen to cast upon the shores of england families long tossed by tempests and dying with cold and hunger. by degrees, the guards stationed along the shores and the frontiers were touched or seduced, and became saviors and guides to fugitives whom they were set to arrest. then perpetual confinement in the galleys was no longer sufficient against the accomplices of the _desertes_; for the galleys an edict substituted death; death, which fell not upon those guilty of the pretended crime of desertion, was promised to their abettors (october , ). some were given up to capital punishment; many, nevertheless, continued their perilous assistance to emigrants, and few betrayed them. those reformers whom the authority wished most to retain in the kingdom, the noblemen, the rich citizens, manufacturers, and merchants, were those who escaped easiest, being best able to pay for the interested compassion of the guards. it is said that the fugitives carried out of france sixty millions in five years. however this may be, the loss of men was much more to be regretted than the loss of money. the vital energy of france did not cease for many years to ooze away through this ever-open ulcer of emigration. it is difficult to estimate, even approximately, the number of protestants who abandoned their country, become to them a barbarous mother. vauban estimated it at a hundred thousand, from to . benoit, the calvinist historian of the edict of nantes, who published his book in , estimates it at two hundred thousand; the illustrious refugee basnage speaks vaguely of three or four hundred thousand. others give figures much more exaggerated, while the duke of burgundy, in the memoir that we have cited above, reduces the emigration to less than sixty-eight thousand souls in the course of twenty years; but the truly inconceivable illusions preserved by this young prince, concerning the moral and political results of the revocation, do not allow us to put confidence in his testimony; he was deceived, took pleasure in being deceived, and closed his ear to whomsoever desired to undeceive him. the amount from two hundred thousand to two hundred fifty thousand, from the revocation to the commencement of the following century, that is, to the revolt of cévennes, seems most probable. but it is not so much by the quantity as by the quality of the emigrants that the real loss of france must be measured. france was incomparably more weakened than if two hundred thousand citizens had been taken at hazard from the catholic mass of the nation. the protestants were very superior, on the average, if not to the catholic middle class of paris and the principal centres of french civilization, at least to the mass of the people, and the emigrants were the best of the protestants. a multitude of useful men, among them many superior men, left a frightful void in france, and went to swell the forces of protestant nations. france declined both by what she lost and what her rivals gained. before nine thousand sailors, the best in the kingdom, as vauban says, twelve thousand soldiers, six hundred officers, had gone to foreign countries. the most skilful chiefs and agents of contemporaneous industry went in multitudes to settle in foreign lands. industrial capacities, less striking than literary capacities, inflicted losses on france still more felt and less reparable. france was rich enough in literary glory to lose much without being impoverished; such was not the case with respect to industry; france was to descend in a few years, almost in a few months, from that economical supremacy which had been conquered for her by long efforts of a protective administration; populous cities beheld the branches of commerce that constituted their prosperity rapidly sinking, by the disappearance of the principal industrial families, and these branches taking root on the other side of the frontiers. thus fell, never to rise again, the norman hat trade--already suffering on account of regulations that fettered the canadian fur trade. other branches, in great number, did not disappear entirely, but witnessed the rise of a formidable competition in foreign lands, where they had hitherto remained unknown; these were so many outlets closed, so many markets lost for our exportation, lately so flourishing. a suburb of london (spitalfields) was peopled with our workmen in silk, emigrated from lyons and touraine, which lost three-fourths of their looms; the manufacture of french silk was also established in holland, with paper-making, cloth manufacture, etc. many branches of industry were transplanted to brandenburg, and twenty thousand frenchmen carried the most refined arts of civilization to the coarse population thinly scattered among the sands and firs of that sombre region. french refugees paid for the hospitality of the elector frederick by laying the foundation of the high destinies of berlin, which on their arrival was still but a small city of twelve or fifteen thousand souls, and which, thenceforth, took a start which nothing was to arrest. like the hebrews after the fall of jerusalem, the huguenot exiles scattered themselves over the entire world: some went to ireland, carrying the cultivation of flax and hemp; others, led by a nephew of duquesne, founded a small colony at the cape of good hope. france was impoverished, not only in frenchmen who exiled themselves, but in those, much more numerous, who remained in spite of themselves, discouraged, ruined, whether they openly resisted persecution or suffered some external observances of catholicism to be wrung from them, all having neither energy in work nor security in life; it was really the activity of more than a million of men that france lost, and of the million that produced most. the great enterprise, the miracle of the reign, therefore miscarried; the new temple that louis had pretended to erect to unity fell to ruin as it rose from the ground, and left only an open chasm in place of its foundation. everything that had been undertaken by the governing power of france for a century in the direction of national, civil, and territorial unity had gloriously succeeded; as soon as the governing power left this legitimate field of unity to invade the domain of conscience and of human individuality, it raised before itself insurmountable obstacles; it concerned itself in contests wherein it was equally fatal to conquer or be conquered, and gave the first blow to the greatness of france. what a contrast between the pretensions of louis that he could neither be mistaken nor deceived, that he saw everything, that he accomplished everything, and the illusions with which he was surrounded in regard to the facility of success and the means employed! the nothingness of absolute power, and of government by one alone, was thus revealed under the reign of the "great king!" %the english revolution% flight of james ii a.d. gilbert burnet h.d. traill with the accession of william and mary to the throne of england not only did the stuart line come to an end, but the protestant religion was finally established in the kingdom. by the declaration of right, upon which their title rested, it was decreed that after the death of william and mary no person holding the roman catholic faith should ever be king or queen of england. assumption of the throne by a roman catholic should release the people from their allegiance. william iii (william of orange) was a nephew of james ii. he had greatly distinguished himself as leader of the dutch against the invasions of louis xiv, when the english people, tired of the tyranny of james ii, and also fearing that he might be succeeded by a catholic, decided to choose a protestant for their sovereign. william was married ( ) to mary, eldest child of james ii. could they have been sure that she would succeed her father, the english people would gladly have had mary for their sole ruler, though european interests demanded the elevation to larger power of the prince of orange as the great antagonist of louis xiv. william was accordingly invited to take possession of the english throne conjointly with mary. the prince of orange landed at torbay, november , . this revolution, one of the least violent in all history, is best described by bishop burnet, who accompanied william of orange from holland to england, and in was made bishop of salisbury. he is not less eminent as the historian of his time than as a theologian and prelate of the english church. having made his preparations for sailing, william was annoyed by many delays occasioned by the hesitation of his subordinates. traill's account of the convention which william summoned for settlement of the crown, gives in a wholly modern way the particulars of the formal accession of william and mary. gilbert burnet all this while the men-of-war were still riding at sea, it being a continued storm for some weeks. the prince[ ] sent out several advice-boats with orders to them to come in. but they could not come up to them. on october th there was for six hours together a most dreadful storm; so that there were few among us that did not conclude that the best part of the fleet, and by consequence that the whole design, were lost. many that have passed for heroes yet showed then the agonies of fear in their looks and whole deportment. the prince still retained his usual calmness, and the same tranquillity of spirit that i had observed in him in his happiest days. on the th it calmed a little, and our fleet came all in, to our great joy. the rudder of one third-rate was broken; and that was all the hurt that the storm had done. at last the much-longed-for east wind came. and so hard a thing it was to set so vast a body in motion that two days of this wind were lost before all could be quite ready. [footnote : william of orange.] on november (o.s.), we sailed out with the evening tide, but made little way that night, that so our fleet might come out and move in order. we tried next day till noon if it were possible to sail northward, but the wind was so strong and full in the east that we could not move that way. about noon the signal was given to steer westward. this wind not only diverted us from that unhappy course, but it kept the english fleet in the river; so that it was not possible for them to come out, though they were come down as far as to the gunfleet. by this means we had the sea open to us, with a fair wind and a safe navigation. on the d we passed between dover and calais, and before night came in sight of the isle of wight. the next day, being the day in which the prince was both born and married, he fancied if he could land that day it would look auspicious to the army and animate the soldiers. but we all, who considered that the day following, being gunpowder-treason day, our landing that day might have a good effect on the minds of the english nation, were better pleased to see that we could land no sooner. torbay was thought the best place for our great fleet to lie in, and it was resolved to land the army where it could be best done near it; reckoning that being at such a distance from london we could provide ourselves with horses, and put everything in order before the king could march his army toward us, and that we should lie some time at exeter for the refreshing of our men. i was in the ship, with the prince's other domestics, that went in the van of the whole fleet. at noon on the th, russel came on board us with the best of all the english pilots that they had brought over. he gave him the steering of the ship, and ordered him to be sure to sail so that next morning we should be short of dartmouth; for it was intended that some of the ships should land there, and that the rest should sail into torbay. the pilot thought he could not be mistaken in measuring our course, and believed that he certainly kept within orders, till the morning showed us we were past torbay and dartmouth. the wind, though it had abated much of its first violence, was yet still full in the east; so now it seemed necessary for us to sail on to plymouth, which must have engaged us in a long and tedious campaign in winter through a very ill country. nor were we sure to be received at plymouth. the earl of bath, who was governor, had sent by russel a promise to the prince to come and join him; yet it was not likely that he would be so forward as to receive us at our first coming. the delays he made afterward, pretending that he was managing the garrison, whereas he was indeed staying till he saw how the matter was likely to be decided, showed us how fatal it had proved, if we had been forced to sail on to plymouth. but while russel was in no small disorder, after he saw the pilot's error (upon which he bade me go to my prayers, for all was lost), and as he was ordering the boat to be cleared to go aboard the prince, on a sudden, to all our wonder, it calmed a little. and then the wind turned into the south, and a soft and happy gale of wind carried in the whole fleet in four hours' time into torbay. immediately as many landed as conveniently could. as soon as the prince and marshal schomberg got to shore, they were furnished with such horses as the village of broxholme could afford, and rode up to view the grounds, which they found as convenient as could be imagined for the foot in that season. it was not a cold night; otherwise the soldiers, who had been kept warm aboard, might have suffered much by it. as soon as i landed, i made what haste i could to the place where the prince was; who took me heartily by the hand, and asked me if i would not now believe in predestination. i told him i would never forget that providence of god which had appeared so signally on this occasion.[ ] he was cheerfuller than ordinary. yet he returned soon to his usual gravity. the prince sent for all the fishermen of the place and asked them which was the properest place for landing his horse, which all apprehended would be a tedious business and might hold some days. but next morning he was showed a place, a quarter of a mile below the village, where the ships could be brought very near the land, against a good shore, and the horses would not be put to swim above twenty yards. this proved to be so happy for our landing, though we came to it by mere accident, that if we had ordered the whole island round to be sounded we could not have found a properer place for it. there was a dead calm all that morning; and in three hours' time all our horse were landed, with as much baggage as was necessary till we got to exeter. the artillery and heavy baggage were left aboard, and ordered to topsham, the seaport to exeter. all that belonged to us was so soon and so happily landed that by the next day at noon we were in full march, and marched four miles that night. we had from thence twenty miles to exeter, and we resolved to make haste thither. [footnote : light is thrown on this passage by the following curious account given in m'cormick's _life of carstares_: "mr. carstares set out along with his highness in quality of his domestic chaplain, and went aboard of his own ship. it is well known that, upon their first setting out from the coast of holland, the fleet was in imminent danger by a violent tempest, which obliged them to put back for a few days. upon that occasion, the vessel which carried the prince and his retinue narrowly escaped shipwreck, a circumstance which some who were around his person were disposed to interpret into a bad omen of their success. among these, dr. burnet happening to observe that it seemed predestined that they should not set foot on english ground, the prince said nothing; but, upon stepping ashore at torbay, in the hearing of mr. carstares, he turned about to dr. burnet, and asked him what he thought of the doctrine of predestination now?" cunningham, according to the translation of the latin ms. of his _history of england_, says that "dr. burnet, who understood but little of military affairs, asked the prince of orange which way he intended to march, and when? and desired to be employed by him in whatever service he should think fit. the prince only asked what he now thought of predestination? and advised, if he had a mind to be busy, to consult the canons." the bishop omits mentioning the proximate cause of the prince's question, and says nothing about his declining the offer of his services, which indeed it is not likely that he did, at least so uncivilly.] but as we were now happily landed, and marching, we saw new and unthought-of characters of a favorable providence of god watching over us. we had no sooner got thus disengaged from our fleet than a new and great storm blew from the west; from which our fleet, being covered by the land, could receive no prejudice; but the king's fleet had got out as the wind calmed, and in pursuit of us was come as far as the isle of wight, when this contrary wind turned upon them. they tried what they could to pursue us; but they were so shattered by some days of this storm that they were forced to go into portsmouth, and were no more fit for service that year. this was a greater happiness than we were then aware of: for lord dartmouth assured me some time after, that, whatever stories we had heard and believed, either of officers or seamen, he was confident they would all have fought very heartily. but now, by the immediate hand of heaven, we were masters of the sea without a blow. i never found a disposition to superstition in my temper: i was rather inclined to be philosophical upon all occasions; yet i must confess that this strange ordering of the winds and seasons just to change as our affairs required it, could not but make a deep impression on me as well as on all that observed it. those famous verses of claudian seemed to be more applicable to the prince than to him they were made on: "heaven's favorite, for whom the skies do fight, and all the winds conspire to guide thee right!" the prince made haste to exeter, where he stayed ten days, both for refreshing his troops and for giving the country time to show its affection. both the clergy and magistrates of exeter were very fearful and very backward. the bishop and the dean ran away. and the clergy stood off, though they were sent for and very gently spoken to by the prince. the truth was, the doctrines of passive obedience and non-resistance had been carried so far and preached so much that clergymen either could not all on the sudden get out of that entanglement into which they had by long thinking and speaking all one way involved themselves, or they were ashamed to make so quick a turn. yet care was taken to protect them and their houses everywhere, so that no sort of violence or rudeness was offered to any of them. the prince gave me full authority to do this, and i took so particular a care of it that we heard of no complaints. the army was kept under such an exact discipline that everything was paid for where it was demanded, though the soldiers were contented with such moderate entertainment that the people generally asked but little for what they did eat. we stayed a week at exeter before any of the gentlemen of the country about came in to the prince. every day some persons of condition came from other parts. the first were lord colchester, mr. wharton, the eldest sons of the earl of rivers, and lord wharton, mr. russel, lord russel's brother, and the earl of abingdon. the king came down to salisbury, and sent his troops twenty miles farther. of these, three regiments of horse and dragoons were drawn on by their officers, lord cornbury and colonel langston, on design to come over to the prince. advice was sent to the prince of this. but because these officers were not sure of their subalterns, the prince ordered a body of his men to advance and assist them in case any resistance was made. they were within twenty miles of exeter, and within two miles of the body that the prince had sent to join them, when a whisper ran about among them that they were betrayed. lord cornbury had not the presence of mind that so critical a thing required. so they fell in confusion, and many rode back. yet one regiment came over in a body, and with them about a hundred of the other two. this gave us great courage, and showed us that we had not been deceived in what was told us of the inclinations of the king's army. yet, on the other hand, those who studied to support the king's spirit by flatteries, told him that in this he saw that he might trust his army, since those who intended to carry over those regiments were forced to manage it with so much artifice, and dared not discover their design either to officers or soldiers, and that as soon as they perceived it the greater part of them had turned back. the king wanted support; for his spirits sunk extremely. his blood was in such fermentation that he was bleeding much at the nose, which returned oft upon him every day. he sent many spies over to us. they all took his money, and came and joined themselves to the prince, none of them returning to him. so that he had no intelligence brought him of what the prince was doing but what common reports brought him, which magnified our numbers and made him think we were coming near him while we were still at exeter. he heard that the city of london was very unquiet. news was brought him that the earls of devonshire and danby, and lord lumley, were drawing great bodies together, and that both york and newcastle had declared for the prince. lord delamere had raised a regiment in cheshire. and the body of the nation did everywhere discover their inclinations for the prince so evidently that the king saw he had nothing to trust to but his army. and the ill-disposition among them was so apparent that he reckoned he could not depend on them. so that he lost both heart and head at once. but that which gave him the last and most confounding stroke was that lord churchill and the duke of grafton left him and came and joined the prince at axminster, twenty miles on that side of exeter. after this he could not know on whom he could depend. the duke of grafton was one of king charles' sons by the duchess of cleveland. he had been some time at sea, and was a gallant but rough man. he had more spirit than anyone of that spurious race. he made answer to the king, about this time, that was much talked of. the king took notice of somewhat in his behavior that looked factious, and he said he was sure he could not pretend to act upon principles of conscience; for he had been so ill-bred that, as he knew little of religion, so he regarded it less. but he answered the king that, though he had little conscience, yet he was of a party that had conscience. soon after that, prince george, the duke of ormond, and lord drumlanerick, the duke of queensbury's eldest son, left him and came over to the prince, and joined him when he was come as far as the earl of bristol's house at sherburn. when the news came to london the princess was so struck with the apprehensions of the king's displeasure, and of the ill-effects that it might have, that she said to lady churchill that she could not bear the thoughts of it, and would leap out of window rather than venture on it. the bishop of london was then lodged very secretly in suffolk street. so lady churchill, who knew where he was, went to him and concerted with him the method of the princess' withdrawing from the court. the princess went sooner to bed than ordinary. and about midnight she went down a back stairs from her closet, attended only by lady churchill,[ ] in such haste that they carried nothing with them. they were waited for by the bishop of london, who carried them to the earl of dorset's, whose lady furnished them with everything, and so they went northward as far as northampton, where that earl attended on them with all respect, and quickly brought a body of horse to serve for a guard to the princess. and in a little while a small army was formed about her, who chose to be commanded by the bishop of london, of which he too easily accepted, and was by that exposed to much censure. [footnote : and mrs. berkeley, afterward lady fitzharding. the back stairs were made a little before for that purpose. the princess pretended she was out of order, upon some expostulations that had passed between her and the queen, in a visit she received from her that night, therefore said she would not be disturbed till she rang her bell. next morning, when her servants had waited two hours longer than her usual time of rising, they were afraid something was the matter with her, and finding the bed open, and her highness gone, they ran screaming to my father's lodgings, which were the next to hers, and told my mother the princess was murdered by the priests; thence they went to the queen, and old mistress buss asked her in a very rude manner what she had done with her mistress. the queen answered her very gravely, she supposed their mistress was where she liked to be, but did assure them she knew nothing of her, but did not doubt they would hear of her again very soon. which gave them little satisfaction, upon which there was a rumor all over whitehall that the queen had made away with the princess.--_dartmouth._] these things put the king in an inexpressible confusion. he saw himself now forsaken not only by those whom he had trusted and favored most, but even by his own children. and the army was in such distraction that there was not any one body that seemed entirely united and firm to him. a foolish ballad was made at that time treating the papists, and chiefly the irish, in a very ridiculous manner, which had a burden, said to be irish words, _lero, lero, lilibulero_, that made an impression on the army that cannot be well imagined by those who saw it not. the whole army, and at last all people both in city and country, were singing it perpetually. and perhaps never had so slight a thing so great an effect. but now strange counsels were suggested to the king and queen. the priests and all the violent papists saw a treaty was now opened. they knew that they must be the sacrifice. the whole design of popery must be given up, without any hope of being able in an age to think of bringing it on again. severe laws would be made against them. and all those who intended to stick to the king, and to preserve him, would go into those laws with a particular zeal; so that they and their hopes must be now given up and sacrificed forever. they infused all this into the queen. they said she would certainly be impeached, and witnesses would be set up against her and her son; the king's mother had been impeached in the long parliament; and she was to look for nothing but violence. so the queen took up a sudden resolution of going to france with the child. the midwife, together with all who were assisting at the birth, were also carried over, or so disposed of that it could never be learned what became of them afterward. the queen prevailed with the king not only to consent to this, but to promise to go quickly after her. he was only to stay a day or two after her, in hope that the shadow of authority that was still left in him might keep things so quiet that she might have an undisturbed passage. so she went to portsmouth. and thence, in a man-of-war, she went over to france, the king resolving to follow her in disguise. care was also taken to send all the priests away. the king stayed long enough to get the prince's answer. and when he had read it he said he did not expect so good terms. he ordered the lord chancellor to come to him next morning. but he had called secretly for the great seal. and the next morning, being december th, about three in the morning he went away in disguise with sir edward hales, whose servant he seemed to be. they passed the river, and flung the great seal into it; which was some months after found by a fisherman near foxhall. the king went down to a miserable fisher-boat that hales had provided for carrying them over to france. thus a great king, who had yet a good army and a strong fleet, did choose rather to abandon all than either to expose himself to any danger with that part of the army that was still firm to him or to stay and see the issue of a parliament. some put this mean and unaccountable resolution on a want of courage. others thought it was the effect of an ill-conscience, and of some black thing under which he could not now support himself. and they who censured it the most moderately said that it showed that his priests had more regard for themselves than for him; and that he considered their interests more than his own; and that he chose rather to wander abroad with them and to try what he could do by a french force to subdue his people than to stay at home and be shut up within the bounds of law, and be brought under an incapacity of doing more mischief; which they saw was necessary to quiet those fears and jealousies for which his bad government had given so much occasion. it seemed very unaccountable, since he was resolved to go, that he did not choose rather to go in one of his yachts or frigates than to expose himself in so dangerous and ignominious a manner. it was not possible to put a good construction on any part of the dishonorable scene which he then acted. with this his reign ended: for this was a plain deserting of his people and exposing the nation to the pillage of an army which he had ordered the earl of feversham to disband. and the doing this without paying them was letting so many armed men loose upon the nation; who might have done much mischief if the execution of those orders that he left behind him had not been stopped. i shall continue the recital of all that passed in this _interregnum_, till the throne, which he now left empty, was filled. he was not got far, when some fishermen of feversham, who were watching for such priests and other delinquents as they fancied were making their escape, came up to him. and they, knowing sir edward hales, took both the king and him, and brought them to feversham. the king told them who he was.[ ] and that flying about brought a vast crowd together to look on this astonishing instance of the uncertainty of all worldly greatness, when he who had ruled three kingdoms and might have been the arbiter of all europe was now in such mean hands, and so low an equipage. the people of the town were extremely disordered with this unlooked-for accident; and, though for a while they kept him as a prisoner, yet they quickly changed that into as much respect as they could possibly pay him. here was an accident that seemed of no great consequence. yet all the strugglings which that party have made ever since that time to this day, which from him were called afterward the jacobites, did rise out of this; for if he had got clear away, by all that could be judged, he would not have had a party left; all would have agreed that here was a desertion, and that therefore the nation was free and at liberty to secure itself. but that following upon this gave them a color to say that he was forced away and driven out. till now he scarce had a party but among the papists. but from this incident a party grew up that has been long very active for his interests. [footnote : and desired they would send to eastwell for the earl of winchelsea; which sir basil dixwell put a stop to by telling him surely they were good enough to take care of him. which occasioned the king's saying he found there was more civility among the common people than some gentlemen, when he was returned to whitehall.--_dartmouth_.] as soon as it was known at london that the king was gone, the 'prentices and the rabble, who had been a little quieted when they saw a treaty on foot between the king and the prince, now broke out again upon all suspected houses, where they believed there were either priests or papists. they made great havoc of many places, not sparing the houses of ambassadors. but none was killed, no houses burned, nor were any robberies committed. never was so much fury seen under so much management. jeffreys finding the king was gone, saw what reason he had to look to himself, and, apprehending that he was now exposed to the rage of the people whom he had provoked with so particular a brutality, he had disguised himself to make his escape. but he fell into the hands of some who knew him. he was insulted by them with as much scorn and rudeness as they could invent. and, after many hours tossing him about, he was carried to the lord mayor, whom they charged to commit him to the tower, which lord lucas had then seized, and in it had declared for the prince. the lord mayor was so struck with the terror of this rude populace, and with the disgrace of a man who had made all people tremble before him, that he fell into fits upon it, of which he died soon after. upon the news of the king's desertion, it was proposed that the prince should go on with all possible haste to london. but that was not advisable. for the king's army lay so scattered through the road all the way to london that it was not fit for him to advance faster than his troops marched before him; otherwise, any resolute officer might have seized or killed him. though, if it had not been for that danger a great deal of mischief that followed would have been prevented by his speedy advance; for now began that turn to which all the difficulties that did afterward disorder our affairs may be justly imputed. two gentlemen of kent came to windsor the morning after the prince came thither. they were addressed to me; and they told me of the accident at feversham, and desired to know the prince's pleasure upon it. i was affected with this dismal reverse of the fortune of a great prince more than i think fit to express. i went immediately to benthink and wakened him, and got him to go to the prince and let him know what had happened, that some order might be presently given for the security of the king's person, and for taking him out of the hands of a rude multitude who said they would obey no orders but such as came from the prince. the prince ordered zuylestein to go immediately to feversham, and to see the king safe and at full liberty to go whithersoever he pleased. but as soon as the news of the king's being at feversham came to london, all the indignation that people had formerly conceived against him was turned to pity and compassion. the privy council met upon it. some moved that he should be sent for. others said he was king, and might send for his guards and coaches as he pleased, but it became not them to send for him. it was left to his general, the earl of feversham, to do what he thought best. so he went for him with his coaches and guards. and, as he came back through the city, he was welcomed with expressions of joy by great numbers; so slight and unstable a thing is a multitude, and so soon altered. at his coming to whitehall, he had a great court about him. even the papists crept out of their lurking-holes, and appeared at court with much assurance. the king himself began to take heart. and both at feversham, and now at whitehall, he talked in his ordinary high strain, justifying all that he had done; only he spoke a little doubtfully of the business of magdalen college. but when he came to reflect on the state of his affairs, he saw it was so soon broken that nothing was now left to deliberate upon. so he sent the earl of feversham to windsor without demanding any passport, and ordered him to desire the prince to come to st. james' to consult with him of the best way for settling the nation. when the news of what had passed at london came to windsor, the prince thought the privy council had not used him well, who after they had sent to him to take the government upon him, had made this step without consulting him. now the scene was altered and new counsels were to be taken. the prince heard the opinions, not only of those who had come along with him, but of such of the nobility as were now come to him, among whom the marquis of halifax was one. all agreed that it was not convenient that the king should stay at whitehall. neither the king, nor the prince, nor the city, could have been safe if they had been both near one another. tumults would probably have arisen out of it. the guards and the officious flatterers of the two courts would have been unquiet neighbors. it was thought necessary to stick to the point of the king's deserting his people, and not to give up that by entering upon any treaty with him. and since the earl of feversham, who had commanded the army against the prince, was come without a passport he was for some days put in arrest. it was a tender point now to dispose of the king's person. some proposed rougher methods: the keeping him a prisoner, at least till the nation was settled, and till ireland was secured. it was thought his being kept in custody would be such a tie on all his party as would oblige them to submit and be quiet. ireland was in great danger. and his restraint might oblige the earl of tyrconnel to deliver up the government, and to disarm the papists, which would preserve that kingdom and the protestants in it. but, because it might raise too much compassion and perhaps some disorder if the king should be kept in restraint within the kingdom, therefore the sending him to breda was proposed. the earl of clarendon pressed this vehemently on account of the irish protestants, as the king himself told me, for those that gave their opinions in this matter did it secretly and in confidence to the prince. the prince said he could not deny but that this might be good and wise advice, but it was that to which he could not hearken; he was so far satisfied with the grounds of this expedition that he could act against the king in a fair and open war; but for his person, now that he had him in his power, he could not put such a hardship on him as to make him a prisoner; and he knew the princess' temper so well that he was sure she would never bear it: nor did he know what disputes it might raise, or what effect it might have upon the parliament that was to be called; he was firmly resolved never to suffer anything to be done against his person; he saw it was necessary to send him out of london, and he would order a guard to attend upon him who should only defend and protect his person, but not restrain him in any sort. a resolution was taken of sending the lords halifax, shrewsbury, and delamere to london, who were first to order the english guards that were about the court to be drawn off and sent to quarters out of town, and when that was done the count of solms with the dutch guards was to come and take all the posts about the court. this was obeyed without any resistance or disorder, but not without much murmuring. it was midnight before all was settled. and then these lords sent to the earl of middleton to desire him to let the king know that they had a message to deliver to him from the prince. he went in to the king, and sent them word from him that they might come with it immediately. they came and found him abed. they told him the necessity of affairs required that the prince should come presently to london; and he thought it would conduce to the safety of the king's person and the quiet of the town that he should retire to some house out of town, and they proposed ham. the king seemed much dejected, and asked if it must be done immediately. they told him he might take his rest first, and they added that he should be attended by a guard who should only guard his person, but should give him no sort of disturbance. having said this, they withdrew. the earl of middleton came quickly after them and asked them if it would not do as well if the king should go to rochester; for since the prince was not pleased with his coming up from kent it might be perhaps acceptable to him if he should go thither again. it was very visible that this was proposed in order to a second escape. they promised to send word immediately to the prince of orange, who lay that night at sion, within eight miles of london. he very readily consented to it. and the king went next day to rochester, having ordered all that which is called the moving wardrobe to be sent before him, the count of solms ordering everything to be done as the king desired. a guard went with him that left him at full liberty, and paid him rather more respect than his own guards had done of late. most of that body, as it happened, were papists. so when he went to mass they went in and assisted very reverently. and when they were asked how they could serve in an expedition that was intended to destroy their own religion, one of them answered, his soul was god's, but his sword was the prince of orange's. the king was so much delighted with this answer that he repeated it to all that came about him. on the same day the prince came to st. james'. it happened to be a very rainy day. and yet great numbers came to see him. but, after they had stood long in the wet, he disappointed them; for he, who loved neither shows nor shoutings, went through the park. and even this trifle helped to set people's spirits on edge. the revolution was thus brought about with the universal applause of the whole nation; only these last steps began to raise a fermentation. it was said, here was an unnatural thing to waken the king out of his sleep, in his own palace, and to order him to go out of it when he was ready to submit to everything. some said he was now a prisoner, and remembered the saying of king charles i, that the prisons and the graves of princes lay not far distant from one another; the person of the king was now struck at, as well as his government, and this specious undertaking would now appear to be only a disguised and designed usurpation. these things began to work on great numbers. and the posting of the dutch guards where the english guards had been, gave a general disgust to the whole english army. they indeed hated the dutch besides, on account of the good order and strict discipline they were kept under; which made them to be as much beloved by the nation as they were hated by the soldiery. the nation had never known such an inoffensive march of an army. and the peace and order of the suburbs, and the freedom of markets in and about london, were so carefully maintained that in no time fewer disorders had been committed than were heard of this winter. none of the papists or jacobites was insulted in any sort. the prince had ordered me, as we came along, to take care of the papists and to secure them from all violence. when he came to london he renewed these orders, which i executed with so much zeal and care that i saw all the complaints that were brought me fully redressed. when we came to london i procured passports for all that desired to go beyond the sea. two of the popish bishops were put in newgate. i went thither in the prince's name. i told them the prince would not take upon him yet to give any orders about prisoners; as soon as he did that, they should feel the effects of it. but in the mean while i ordered them to be well used, and to be taken care of, and that their friends might be admitted to come to them; so truly did i pursue the principle of moderation even toward those from whom nothing of that sort was to be expected. now that the prince was come, all the bodies about the town came to welcome him. the bishops came the next day. only the archbishop of canterbury, though he had once agreed to it, yet would not come. the clergy of london came next. the city, and a great many other bodies, came likewise, and expressed a great deal of joy for the deliverance wrought for them by the prince's means. old sergeant maynard came with the men of the law. he was then near ninety, and yet he said the liveliest thing that was heard of on that occasion. the prince took notice of his great age, and said that he had outlived all the men of the law of his time; he answered he had liked to have outlived the law itself if his highness had not come over. the first thing to be done after the compliments were over was to consider how the nation was to be settled. the lawyers were generally of opinion that the prince ought to declare himself king, as henry vii had done. this, they said, would put an end to all disputes, which might otherwise grow very perplexing and tedious; and they said he might call a parliament which would be a legal assembly if summoned by the king in fact, though his title was not yet recognized. this was plainly contrary to his declaration, by which the settlement of the nation was referred to a parliament; such a step would make all that the prince had hitherto done pass for an aspiring ambition only to raise himself; and it would disgust those who had been hitherto the best affected to his designs, and make them less concerned in the quarrel if, instead of staying till the nation should offer him the crown, he would assume it as a conquest. these reasons determined the prince against that proposition. he called all the peers and the members of the three last parliaments that were in town, together with some of the citizens of london. when these met it was told them that, in the present distraction, the prince desired their advice about the best methods of settling the nation. it was agreed in both these houses, such as they were, to make an address to the prince, desiring him to take the administration of the government into his hands in the _interim_. the next proposition passed not so unanimously; for, it being moved that the prince should be likewise desired to write missive letters to the same effect, and for the same persons to whom writs were issued out for calling a parliament, that so there might be an assembly of men in the form of a parliament, though without writs under the great seal, such as that was that had called home king charles ii. to this the earl of nottingham objected that such a convention of the states could be no legal assembly unless summoned by the king's writ. therefore he moved that an address might be made to the king to order the writs to be issued. few were of his mind. the matter was carried the other way, and orders were given for those letters to be sent round the nation. the king continued a week at rochester. and both he himself and everybody else saw that he was at full liberty, and that the guard about him put him under no sort of restraint. many that were zealous for his interests went to him and pressed him to stay and to see the issue of things: a party would appear for him; good terms would be got for him; and things would be brought to a reasonable agreement. he was much distracted between his own inclinations and the importunities of his friends. the queen, hearing what had happened, writ a most vehement letter to him, pressing his coming over, remembering him of his promise, which she charged on him in a very earnest if not in an imperious strain. this letter was intercepted. i had an account of it from one that read it. the prince ordered it to be conveyed to the king, and that determined him. so he gave secret orders to prepare a vessel for him, and drew a paper, which he left on his table, reproaching the nation for their forsaking him. he declared that though he was going to seek for foreign aid to restore him to his throne, yet he would not make use of it to overthrow either the religion established or the laws of the land. and so he left rochester very secretly on the last day of this memorable year and got safe over to france. h.d. traill the convention for filling the vacant throne met on january d, when halifax was chosen president in the lords; powle speaker of the commons. a letter from william, read in both houses, informed their members that he had endeavored to the best of his power to discharge the trust reposed in him, and that it now rested with the convention to lay the foundation of a firm security for their religion, laws, and liberties. the prince then went on to refer to the dangerous condition of the protestants in ireland, and the present state of things abroad, which obliged him to tell them that next to the danger of unreasonable divisions among themselves, nothing could be so fatal as too great a delay in their consultations. and he further intimated that as england was already bound by treaty to help the dutch in such exigencies as, deprived of the troops which he had brought over, and threatened with war by louis xiv, they might easily be reduced to, so he felt confident that the cheerful concurrence of the dutch in preserving this kingdom would meet with all the returns of friendship from protestants and englishmen whenever their own condition should require assistance. to this the two houses replied with an address thanking the prince for his great care in the administration of the affairs of the kingdom to this time, and formally continuing to him the same commission, recommending to his particular care the present state of ireland. william's answer to this address was characteristic both of his temperament and his preoccupation. "my lords and gentlemen," he said, "i am glad that what i have done hath pleased you; and since you desire me to continue the administration of affairs, i am willing to accept it. i must recommend to you the consideration of affairs abroad which makes it fit for you to expedite your business, not only for making a settlement at home on a good foundation, but for the safety of europe." on the th the commons resolved themselves into a committee of the whole house, and richard hampden, son of the great john, was voted into the chair. the honor of having been the first to speak the word which was on everybody's lips belongs to gilbert dolben, son of a late archbishop of york, who "made a long speech tending to prove that the king's deserting his kingdom without appointing any person to administer the government amounted in reason and judgment of law to a demise." sir robert howard, one of the members for castle rising, went a step further, and asserted that the throne was vacant. the extreme tories made a vain effort to procure an adjournment, but the combination against them of whigs and their own moderates was too strong for them, and after a long and stormy debate the house resolved "that king james ii, having endeavored to subvert the constitution by breaking the original contract between the king and people, and by the advice of jesuits and other wicked persons having violated the fundamental laws and withdrawn himself out of the kingdom, has abdicated the government, and that the throne is thereby vacant." this resolution was at once sent up to the lords. before, however, they could proceed to consider it, another message arrived from the commons to the effect that they had just voted it inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this protestant nation to be governed by a popish king. to this resolution the peers assented with a readiness which showed in advance that james had no party in the upper house, and that the utmost length to which the tories in that body were prepared to go was to support the proposal of a regency. the first resolution of the commons was then put aside in order that this proposal might be discussed. it was archbishop sancroft's plan, who, however, did not make his appearance to advocate it, and in his absence it was supported by rochester and nottingham, while halifax and danby led the opposition to it. after a day's debate it was lost by the narrow majority of two, forty-nine peers declaring in its favor and fifty-one against it. the lords then went into committee on the commons' resolution, and at once proceeded, as was natural enough, to dispute the clause in its preamble which referred to the original contract between the king and the people. no tory, of course, could really have subscribed to the doctrine implied in these words; but it was doubtless as hard in those days as in these to interest an assembly of english politicians in affirmations of abstract political principle, and some tories probably thought it not worth while to multiply causes of dissent with the lower house by attacking a purely academic recital of their resolution. anyhow, the numbers of the minority slightly fell off, only forty-six peers objecting to the phrase, while fifty-three voted that it should stand. the word "deserted" was then substituted without a division for the word "abdicated," and, the hour being late, the lords adjourned. the real battle, of course, was now at hand, and to anyone who assents to the foregoing criticisms it will be evident that it was far less of a conflict on a point of constitutional principle, and far more of a struggle between the parties of two distinct--one cannot call them rival--claimants to the throne than high-flying whig writers are accustomed to represent it. it would, of course, be too much to say that the whigs insisted on declaring the vacancy of the throne, _only_ because they wished to place william on it, and that the tories contended for a demise of the crown, _only_ because they wished an english princess to succeed to the throne rather than a dutch prince. still, it is pretty certain that, but for this conflict of preferences, the two political parties, who had made so little difficulty of agreeing in the declaration that james had ceased to reign, would never have found it so hard to concur in its almost necessary sequence that the throne was vacant. the debate on the last clause of the resolution began, and it soon became apparent that the whigs were outnumbered. the forty-nine peers who had supported the proposal of a regency--which implied that the royal title was still in james--were bound, of course, to oppose the proposition that the throne was vacant; and they were reënforced by several peers who held that that title had already devolved upon mary. an attempt to compromise the dispute by omitting the words pronouncing the throne vacant, and inserting words which merely proclaimed the prince and princess of orange king and queen, was rejected by fifty-two votes to forty-seven; and the original clause was then put, and negatived by fifty-five votes to forty-one. thus amended by the substitution of "deserted" for "abdicated," and the omission of the words "and that the throne is thereby vacant," the resolution was sent back to the commons, who instantly and without a division disagreed with the amendments. the situation was now becoming critical. the prospect of a deadlock between the two branches of the convention threw london into a ferment; crowds assembled in palace yard; petitions were presented in that tumultuous fashion which converts supplication into menace. to their common credit, however, both parties united in resistance to these attempts at popular coercion; and william himself interposed to enjoin a stricter police of the capital. on monday, february th, the lords resolved to insist on their amendments; on the following day the commons reaffirmed their disagreement with them by two hundred eighty-two votes to one hundred fifty-one. a free conference between the two houses was then arranged, and met on the following day. but the dispute, like many another in our political history, had meanwhile been settled out of court. between the date of the peers' vote and the conference mary had communicated to danby her high displeasure at the conduct of those who were setting up her claims in opposition to those of her husband; and william, who had previously maintained an unbroken silence, now made, unsolicited, a declaration of a most important and, indeed, of a conclusive kind. if the convention, he said, chose to adopt the plan of a regency, he had nothing to say against it, only they must look out for some other person to fill the office, for he himself would not consent to do so. as to the alternative proposal of putting mary on the throne and allowing him to reign by her courtesy, "no man," he said, "can esteem a woman more than i do the princess; but i am so made that i cannot think of holding anything by apron strings; nor can i think it reasonable to have any share in the government unless it be put in my own person, and that for the term of my life. if you think fit to settle it otherwise i will not oppose you, but will go back to holland, and meddle no more in your affairs." these few sentences of plain-speaking swept away the clouds of intrigue and pedantry as by a wholesome gust of wind. both political parties at once perceived that there was but one possible issue from the situation. the conference was duly held, and the constitutional question was, with great display of now unnecessary learning, solemnly debated; but the managers for the two houses met only to register a foregone conclusion. the word "abdicated" was restored; the vacancy of the throne was voted by sixty-two votes to forty-seven; and it was immediately proposed and carried without a division that the prince and princess of orange should be declared king and queen of england. it now only remained to give formal effect to this resolution, and in so doing to settle the conditions whereon the crown, which the convention had now distinctly recognized itself as conferring upon the prince and princess, should be conferred. a committee appointed by the commons to consider what safeguards should be taken against the aggressions of future sovereigns had made a report in which they recommended not only a solemn enunciation of ancient constitutional principles, but the enactment of new laws. the commons, however, having regard to the importance of prompt action, judiciously resolved on carrying out only the first part of the programme. they determined to preface the tender of the crown to william and mary by a recital of the royal encroachments of the past reigns, and a formal assertion of the constitutional principles against which such encroachments had offended. this document, drafted by a committee of which the celebrated somers, then a scarcely known young advocate, was the chairman, was the famous "declaration of right." the grievances which it recapitulated in its earlier portion were as follows: ( ) the royal pretension to dispense with and suspend laws without consent of parliament; ( ) the punishment of subjects, as in the "seven bishops'" case, for petitioning the crown; ( ) the establishment of the illegal court of high commission for ecclesiastical affairs; ( ) the levy of taxes without the consent of parliament; ( ) the maintenance of a standing army in time of peace without the same consent; ( ) the disarmament of protestants while papists were both armed and employed contrary to law; ( ) the violation of the freedom of election; ( ) the prosecution in the king's bench of suits only cognizable in parliament; ( ) the return of partial and corrupt juries; ( ) the requisition of excessive bail; ( ) the imposition of excessive fines; ( ) the infliction of illegal and cruel punishments; ( ) the grants of the estates of accused persons before conviction. then after solemnly reaffirming the popular rights from which these abuses of the prerogative derogated, the declaration goes on to recite that, having an "entire confidence" william would "preserve them from the violation of the rights which they have here asserted, the three estates do resolve that william and mary, prince and princess of orange, be and be declared king and queen: to hold the crown and royal dignity, to them the said prince and princess during their lives and the life of the survivor of them; and the sole and full exercise of the royal power be only in and exercised by the said prince of orange, in the names of the said prince and princess during their lives, and, after their deceases, the said crown and royal dignity of the said kingdoms and dominions to the heirs of the body of the said princess; and, for default of such issue, to the princess anne of denmark and the heirs of her body; and, for the default of such issue, to the issue of the said prince of orange." then followed an alteration required by the scrupulous conscience of nottingham in the terms of the oath of allegiance. on february th mary arrived from holland. on the following day, in the banqueting house at whitehall, the prince and princess of orange were waited on by both houses of convention in a body. the declaration was read by the clerk of the crown; the sovereignty solemnly tendered to them by halifax, in the name of the estates; and on the same day they were proclaimed king and queen in the usual places in the cities of london and westminster. %peter the great modernizes russia% suppression of the streltsi a.d. alfred rambaud it is the glory of peter the great to have changed the character of his country and elevated its position among european nations. by opening russia to the influence of western civilization he prepared the way for the advent of that vast empire as one of the world's great powers. peter i alexeievitch was born in moscow june (n.s.), . after a joint reign with his half-brother ivan ( - ), he ruled alone until his death, february (n.s.), . he is distinguished among princes as a ruler who temporarily laid aside the character of royalty "in order to learn the art of governing better." by his travels under a common name and in a menial disguise, he acquired fruits of observation which proved of greater practical advantage in his career than comes to sovereigns from training in the knowledge of the schools. his restless and inquiring spirit was never subdued by the burdens of state, and his matured powers proved equal to the demands laid upon him by the great formative work which he was called to accomplish for his people. the character and early career of this extraordinary man are here set forth by rambaud in a masterly sketch, showing the first achievements which laid the foundation of peter's constructive policies. alexis mikhailovitch, czar of russia, had by his first wife, maria miloslavski, two sons, feodor and ivan, and six daughters; by his second wife, natalia narychkine, one son (who became peter i) and two daughters. as he was twice married, and the kinsmen of each wife had, according to custom, surrounded the throne, there existed two factions in the palace, which were brought face to face by his death and that of his eldest son, feodor. the miloslavskis had on their side the claim of seniority, the number of royal children left by maria, and, above all, the fact that ivan was the elder of the two surviving sons; but unluckily for them, ivan was notoriously imbecile both in body and mind. on the side of the narychkines was the interest excited by the precocious intelligence of peter, and the position of legal head of all the royal family, which, according to russian law, gave to natalia narychkine her title of czarina dowager. both factions had for some time taken their measures and recruited their partisans. who should succeed feodor? was it to be the son of the miloslavski, or the son of the narychkine? the miloslavskis were first defeated on legal grounds. taking the incapacity of ivan into consideration, the boyars and the patriarch joachim proclaimed the young peter, then nine years old, czar. the narychkines triumphed: natalia became czarina regent, recalled from exile her foster-father, matveef, and surrounded herself by her brothers and uncles. the miloslavskis' only means of revenge lay in revolt, but they were without a head; for it was impossible for ivan to take the lead. the eldest of his six sisters was thirty-two years of age, the youngest nineteen; the most energetic of them was sophia, who was twenty-five. these six princesses saw themselves condemned to the dreary destiny of the russian _czarevni_, and were forced to renounce all hopes of marriage, with no prospects but to grow old in the seclusion of the _terem_, subjected by law to the authority of a step-mother. all their youth had to look forward to was the cloister. they, however, only breathed in action; and though imperial etiquette and byzantine manners, prejudices, and traditions forbade them to appear in public, even byzantine traditions offered them models to follow. had not pulcheria, daughter of an emperor, reigned at constantinople in the name of her brother, the incapable theodosius? had she not contracted a nominal marriage with the brave marcian, who was her sword against the barbarians? here was the ideal that sophia could propose to herself; to be a _czardievitsa_, a "woman-emperor." to emancipate herself from the rigorous laws of the terem, to force the "twenty-seven locks" of the song, to raise the _fata_ that covered her face, to appear in public and meet the looks of men, needed energy, cunning, and patience that could wait and be content to proceed by successive efforts. sophia's first step was to appear at feodor's funeral, though it was not the custom for any but the widow and the heir to be present. there her litter encountered that of natalia narychkine, and her presence forced the czarina-mother to retreat. she surrounded herself with a court of educated men, who publicly praised her, encouraged and excited her to action. simeon polotski and silvester medviedef wrote verses in her honor, recalled to her the example of pulcheria and olga, compared her to the virgin queen, elizabeth of england, and even to semiramis; we might think we were listening to voltaire addressing catharine ii. they played on her name sophia (wisdom), and declared she had been endowed with the quality as well as the title. polotski dedicated to her the _crown of faith_, and medviedef his _gifts of the holy spirit_. the terem offered the strangest contrasts. there acted they the _malade imaginaire_, and the audience was composed of the heterogeneous assembly of popes, monks, nuns, and old pensioners that formed the courts of the ancient czarinas. in this shifting crowd there were some useful instruments of intrigue. the old pensioners, while telling their rosaries, served as emissaries between the palace and the town, carried messages and presents to the turbulent _streltsi_[ ] and arranged matters between the czarian ladies and the soldiers. sinister rumors were skilfully disseminated through moscow: feodor, the eldest son of alexis, had died, the victim of conspirators; the same lot was doubtless reserved for ivan. what was to become of the poor czarevni, of the blood of kings? at last it was publicly announced that a brother of natalia narychkine had seized the crown and seated himself on the throne, and that ivan had been strangled. love and pity for the son of alexis, and the indignation excited by the news of the usurpation, immediately caused the people of moscow to revolt, and the ringleaders cleverly directed the movement. the tocsin sounded from four hundred churches of the "holy city"; the regiments of the streltsi took up arms and marched, followed by an immense crowd, to the kremlin, with drums beating, matches lighted, and dragging cannon behind them. natalia narychkine had only to show herself on the "red staircase," accompanied by her son peter, and ivan who was reported dead. their mere appearance sufficed to contradict all the calumnies. the streltsi hesitated, seeing they had been deceived. a clever harangue of matveef, who had formerly commanded them, and the exhortations of the patriarch, shook them further. the revolt was almost appeased; the miloslavskis had missed their aim, for they had not yet succeeded in putting to death the people of whom they were jealous. [footnote : the streltsi were an ancient muscovite guard composed of citizens rendering hereditary military service in the different cities and fortified posts. at this time many of them were ripe for revolt.] suddenly prince michael dolgorouki, chief of the _prikaz_ of the streltsi, began to insult the rioters in the most violent language. this ill-timed harangue awoke their fury; they seized dolgorouki, and flung him from the top of the red staircase onto their pikes. they stabbed matveef, under the eyes of the czarina; then they sacked the palace, murdering all who fell into their hands. athanasius narychkine, a brother of natalia, was thrown from a window onto the points of their lances. the following day the _emeute_ recommenced; they tore from the arms of the czarina her father cyril and her brother ivan; the latter was tortured and sent into a monastery. historians show us sophia interceded for the victims on her knees, but an understanding between the rebels and the czarevna did exist; the streltsi obeyed orders. the following days were consecrated to the purifying of the palace and the administration, and the seventh day of the revolt they sent their commandant, the prince-boyar, khovanski, to declare that they would have two czars--ivan at the head, and peter as coadjutor; and if this were refused, they would again rebel. the boyars of the _douma_ deliberated on this proposal, and the greater number of the boyars were opposed to it. in russia the absolute power had never been shared, but the orators of the terem cited many examples both from sacred and profane history: pharaoh and joseph, arcadius and honorius, basil ii and constantine viii; and the best of all the arguments were the pikes of the streltsi ( ). sophia had triumphed: she reigned in the name of her two brothers, ivan and peter. she made a point of showing herself in public, at processions, solemn services, and dedications of churches. at the ouspienski sobor, while her brothers occupied the place of the czar, she filled that of the czarina; only _she_ raised the curtains and boldly allowed herself to be incensed by the patriarch. when the _raskolniks_ challenged the heads of the orthodox church to discussion, she wished to preside and hold the meeting in the open air, at the lobnoe miesto on the red place. there was, however, so much opposition that she was forced to call the assembly in the palace of facets, and sat behind the throne of her two brothers, present though invisible. the double-seated throne used on those occasions is still preserved at moscow; there is an opening in the back, hidden by a veil of silk, and behind this sat sophia. this singular piece of furniture is the symbol of a government previously unknown to russia, composed of two visible czars and one invisible sovereign. the streltsi, however, felt their prejudices against female sovereignty awaken. they shrank from the contempt heaped by the czarevna upon the ancient manners. sophia had already become in their eyes a "scandalous person" (_pozornoe litzo_). another cause of misunderstanding was the support she gave to the state church, as reformed by nicon, while the streltsi and the greater part of the people held to the "old faith." she had arrested certain "old believers," who at the discussion in the palace of facets had challenged the patriarchs and orthodox prelates, and she had caused the ringleader to be executed. khovanski, chief of the streltsi, whether from sympathy with the _raskol_ or whether he wished to please his subordinates, affected to share their discontent. the court no longer felt itself safe at moscow. sophia took refuge with the czarina and the two young princes in the fortified monastery of troitsa, and summoned around her the gentlemen-at-arms. khovanski was invited to attend, was arrested on the way, and put to death with his son. the streltsi attempted a new rising, but, with the usual fickleness of a popular militia, suddenly passed from the extreme of insolence to the extreme of humility. they marched to troitsa, this time in the guise of suppliants, with cords round their necks, carrying axes and blocks for the death they expected. the patriarch consented to intercede for them, and sophia contented herself with the sacrifice of the ringleaders. sophia, having got rid of her accomplices, governed by aid of her two favorites--chaklovity, the new commandant of the streltsi, whom she had drawn from obscurity, and who was completely devoted to her, and prince vasili galitsyne. galitsyne has become the hero of a historic school which opposes his genius to that of peter the great, in the same way as in france henry, duke of guise, has been exalted at the expense of henry iv. he was the special favorite, the intimate friend, of sophia, the director of her foreign policy, and her right hand in military affairs. sophia and galitsyne labored to organize a holy league between russia, poland, venice, and austria against the turks and tartars. they also tried to gain the countenance of the catholic powers of the west; and in jacob dolgorouki and jacob mychetski disembarked at dunkirk as envoys to the court of louis xiv. they were not received very favorably: the king of france was not at all inclined to make war against the turks; he was, on the other hand, the ally of mahomet iv, who was about to besiege vienna while louis blockaded luxemburg. the whole plan of the campaign was, however, thrown out by the intervention of russia and john sobieski in favor of austria. the russian ambassadors received orders to reëmbark at havre, without going farther south. the government of the czarevna still persisted in its warlike projects. in return for an active cooperation against the ottomans, poland had consented to ratify the conditions of the treaty of androussovo, and to sign a perpetual peace ( ). a hundred thousand muscovites, under the command of prince galitsyne, and fifty thousand little russian cossacks, under the orders of the hetman samoilovitch, marched against the crimea ( ). the army suffered greatly in the southern steppes, as the tartars had fired the grassy plains. galitsyne was forced to return without having encountered the enemy. samoilovitch was accused of treason, deprived of his command, and sent to siberia; and mazeppa, who owed to samoilovitch his appointment as secretary-at-war, and whose denunciations had chiefly contributed to his downfall, was appointed his successor. in the spring of the muscovite and ukranian armies, commanded by galitsyne and mazeppa, again set out for the crimea. the second expedition was hardly more fortunate than the first: they got as far as perekop, and were then obliged to retreat without even having taken the fortress. this double defeat did not hinder sophia from preparing for her favorite a triumphal entry into moscow. in vain peter forbade her to leave the palace; she braved his displeasure and headed the procession, accompanied by the clergy and the images and followed by the army of the crimea, admitted the generals to kiss her hand and distributed glasses of brandy among the officers. peter left moscow in anger, and retired to the village of preobrajenskoe. the foreign policy of the czarevna was marked by another display of weakness. by the treaty of nertchinsk she restored to the chinese empire the fertile regions of the amur, which had been conquered by a handful of cossacks, and razed the fortress of albazine, where those adventurers had braved all the forces of the east. on all sides russia seemed to retreat before the barbarians. meanwhile peter was growing. his precocious faculties, his quick intelligence, and his strong will awakened alike the hopes of his partisans and the fears of his enemies. as a child he only loved drums, swords, and muskets. he learned history by means of colored prints brought from germany. zotof, his master, whom he afterward made "the archpope of fools," taught him to read. among the heroes held up to him as examples we are not surprised to find ivan the terrible, whose character and position offer so much analogy to his own. "when the czarevitch was tired of reading," says m. zabieline, "zotof took the book from his hand and, to amuse him, would himself read the great deeds of his father, alexis mikhailovitch, and those of the czar, ivan vasilievitch, their campaigns, their distant expeditions, their battles and sieges: how they endured fatigues and privations better than any common soldier; what benefits they had conferred on the empire, and how they extended the frontiers of russia." peter also learned latin, german, and dutch. he read much and widely, and learned a great deal, though without method. like ivan the terrible, he was a self-taught man. he afterward complained of not having been instructed according to rule. this was perhaps a good thing. his education, like that of ivan iv, was neglected, but at least he was not subjected to the enervating influence of the terem--he was not cast in that dull mould which turned out so many idiots in the royal family. he "roamed at large, and wandered in the streets with his comrades." the streets of moscow at that period were, according to m. zabieline, the worst school of profligacy and debauchery that can be imagined; but they were, on the whole, less bad for peter than the palace. he met there something besides mere jesters: he encountered new elements which had as yet no place in the terem, but contained the germ of the regeneration of russia. he came across russians who, if unscrupulous, were also unprejudiced, and who could aid him in his bold reform of the ancient society. he there became acquainted with swiss, english, and german adventurers--with lefort, with gordon, and with timmermann, who initiated him into european civilization. his court was composed of leo narychkine, of boris galitsyne, who had undertaken never to flatter him; of andrew matveef, who had marked taste for everything european; and of dolgorouki, at whose house he first saw an astrolabe. he played at soldiers with his young friends and his grooms, and formed them into the "battalion of playmates," who manoeuvred after the european fashion, and became the kernel of the future regular army. he learned the elements of geometry and fortification, and constructed small citadels, which he took or defended with his young warriors in those fierce battles which sometimes counted their wounded or dead, and in which the czar of russia was not always spared. an english boat stranded on the shore of yaousa caused him to send for franz timmermann, who taught him to manage a sailing-boat, even with a contrary wind. he who formerly, like a true boyar of moscow, had such a horror of the water that he could not make up his mind to cross a bridge, became a determined sailor: he guided his boat first on the yaousa, then on the lake of pereiaslavl. brandt, the dutchman, built him a whole flotilla; and already, in spite of the terrors of his mother, natalia, peter dreamed of the sea. "the child is amusing himself," the courtiers of sophia affected to observe; but these amusements disquieted her. each day added to the years of peter seemed to bring her nearer to the cloister. in vain she proudly called herself "autocrat"; she saw her stepmother, her rival, lifting up her head. galitsyne confined himself to regretting that they had not known better how to profit by the revolution of , but chaklovity, who knew he must fall with his mistress, said aloud, "it would be wiser to put the czarina to death than to be put to death by her." sophia could only save herself by seizing the throne--but who would help her to take it? the streltsi? but the result of their last rising had chilled them considerably. sophia herself, while trying to bind this formidable force, had broken it, and the streltsi had not forgotten their chiefs beheaded at troitsa. now what did the emissaries of sophia propose to them? again to attack the palace; to put leo narychkine and other partisans of peter to death; to arrest his mother, and to expel the patriarch. they trusted that peter and natalia would perish in the tumult. the streltsi remained indifferent when sophia, affecting to think her life threatened, fled to the dievitchi monastery, and sent them letters of entreaty. "if thy days are in peril," tranquilly replied the streltsi, "there must be an inquiry." chaklovity could hardly collect four hundred of them at the kremlin. the struggle began between moscow and preobrajenskoe, the village with the prophetical name (the "transfiguration" or "regeneration"). two streltsi warned peter of the plots of his sister, and for the second time he sought an asylum at troitsa. it was then seen who was the true czar; all men hastened to range themselves around him: his mother, his armed squires, the "battalion of playmates," the foreign officers, and even the streltsi of the regiment of soukharef. the patriarch also took the side of the czar, and brought him moral support, as the foreign soldiers had brought him material force. the partisans of sophia were cold and irresolute; the streltsi themselves demanded that her favorite chaklovity should be surrendered to the czar. she had to implore the mediation of the patriarch. chaklovity was first put to the torture and made to confess his plot against the czar, and then decapitated. medviedef was at first only condemned to the knout and banishment for heresy, but he acknowledged he had intended to take the place of the patriarch and to marry sophia; he was dishonored by being imprisoned with two sorcerers, condemned to be burned alive in a cage, and was afterward beheaded. galitsyne was deprived of his property, and exiled to poustozersk. sophia remained in the dievitchi monastyr, subjected to a hard captivity. though ivan continued to reign conjointly with his brother, yet peter, who was then only seventeen, governed alone, surrounded by his mother, the narychkines, and the dolgoroukis ( ). sophia had freed herself from the seclusion of the terem, as peter had emancipated himself from the seclusion of the palace to roam the streets and navigate rivers. both had behaved scandalously, according to the ideas of the time--the one haranguing soldiers, presiding over councils, walking with her veil raised; the other using the axe like a carpenter, rowing like a cossack, brawling with foreign adventurers, and fighting with his grooms in mimic battles. but to the one her emancipation was only a means of obtaining power; to the other the emancipation of russia, like the emancipation of himself, was the end. he wished the nation to shake off the old trammels from which he had freed himself. sophia remained a byzantine, peter aspired to be a european. in the conflict between the czarevna and the czar, progress was not on the side of the dievitchi monastyr. the first use the czar made of his liberty was to hasten to archangel. there, deaf to the advice and prayers of his mother, who was astounded at this unexpected taste for salt water, he gazed on that sea which no czar had ever looked on. he ate with the merchants and the officers of foreign navies; he breathed the air which had come from the west. he established a dockyard, built boats, dared the angry waves of this unknown ocean, and almost perished in a storm, which did not prevent the "skipper peter alexeievitch" from again putting to sea, and bringing the dutch vessels back to the holy cape. unhappily, the white sea, by which, since the time of ivan iv, the english had entered russia, is frost-bound in winter. in order to open permanent communications with the west, with civilized countries, it was necessary for peter to establish himself on the baltic or the black sea. now the first belonged to the swedes, and the second to the turks, as the caspian did to the persians. who was first to be attacked? the treaties concluded with poland and austria, as well as policy and religion, urged the czar against the turks, and constantinople has always been the point of attraction for orthodox russia. peter shared the sentiments of his people, and had the enthusiasm of a crusader against the infidel. notwithstanding his ardent wish to travel in the west, he took the resolution not to appear in foreign lands till he could appear as a victor. twice had galitsyne failed against the crimea; peter determined to attack the barbarians by the don, and besiege azov. the army was commanded by three generals, golovine, gordon, and lefort, who were to act with the "bombardier of the preobrajenski regiment, peter alexeievitch." this regiment, as well as three others which had sprung from the "amusements" of preobrajenskoe--the semenovski, the botousitski, and the regiment of lefort--were the heart of the expedition. it failed because the czar had no fleet with which to invest azov by sea, because the new army and its chiefs wanted experience, and because jansen, the german engineer, ill-treated by peter, passed over to the enemy. after two assaults the siege was raised. this check appeared the more grave because the czar himself was with the army, because the first attempt to turn from the "amusements" of preobrajenskoe to serious warfare had failed, and because this failure would furnish arms against innovations, against the germans and the heretics, against the new tactics. it might even compromise, in the eyes of the people, the work of regeneration ( ). although peter had followed the example of galitsyne, and entered moscow in triumph, he felt he needed revenge. he sent for good officers from foreign countries. artillerymen arrived from holland and austria, engineers from prussia, and admiral lima from venice. peter hurried on the creation of a fleet with feverish impatience. he built of green wood twenty-two galleys, a hundred rafts, and seventeen hundred boats or barks. all the small ports of the don were metamorphosed into dock-yards; twenty-six thousand workmen were assembled there from all parts of the empire. it was like the camp of boulogne. no misfortune--neither the desertion of the laborers, the burnings of the dock-yards, nor even his own illness--could lessen his activity. peter was able to write that, "following the advice god gave to adam, he earned his bread by the sweat of his brow." at last the "marine caravan," the russian armada, descended the don. from the slopes of azov he wrote to his sister natalia[ ]: "in obedience to thy counsels, i do not go to meet the shells and balls; it is they who approach me, but tolerably courteously." [footnote : his mother died in , his brother ivan in .] azov was blockaded by sea and land, and a breach was opened by the engineers. preparations were being made for a general assault, when the place capitulated. the joy in russia was great, and the streltsi's jealousy of the success of foreign tactics gave place to their enthusiasm as christians for this victory over islamism, which recalled those of kazan and astrakhan. the effect produced on europe was considerable. at warsaw the people shouted, "long live the czar!" the army entered moscow under triumphal arches, on which were represented hercules trampling a pacha and two turks under foot, and mars throwing to the earth a _mirza_ and two tartars. admiral lefort and schein the generalissimo took part in the _cortège_, seated on magnificent sledges; while peter, promoted to the rank of captain, followed on foot. jansen, destined to the gibbet, marched among the prisoners ( ). peter wished to profit by this great success to found the naval power of russia. by the decision of the _douma_ three thousand families were established at azov, besides four hundred kalmucks, and a garrison of moscow streltsi. the patriarch, the prelates, and the monasteries taxed themselves for the construction of one vessel to every eight thousand serfs. the nobles, the officials, and the merchants were seized with the fever of this holy war, and brought their contributions toward the infant navy. it was proposed to unite the don and the volga by means of a canal. a new appeal was made to the artisans and sailors of europe. fifty young nobles of the court were sent to venice, england, and the low countries to learn seamanship and shipbuilding. but it was necessary that the czar himself should be able to judge of the science of his subjects; he must counteract russian indolence and prejudice by the force of a great example; and peter, after having begun his career in the navy at the rank of "skipper," and in the army at that of bombardier, was to become a carpenter of saardam. he allowed himself, as a reward for his success at azov, the much-longed-for journey to the west. in admiral lefort and generals golovine and vosnitsyne prepared to depart for the countries of the west, under the title of "the great ambassadors of the czar." their suite was composed of two hundred seventy persons--young nobles, soldiers, interpreters, merchants, jesters, and buffoons. in the cortège was a young man who went by the name of peter mikhailof. this _incognito_ would render the position of the czar easier, whether in his own personal studies or in delicate negotiations. on the journey to riga peter allowed himself to be insulted by the governor, but laid up the recollection for future use. at koenigsburg the prussian, colonel sternfeld, delivered to "m. peter mikhailof" "a formal brevet of master of artillery." the great ambassadors and their travelling companion were cordially received by the courts of courland, hanover, and brandenburg. sophia charlotte of hanover, afterward queen of prussia, has left us some curious notes about the czar, then twenty-seven years of age. he astonished her by the vivacity of his mind and the promptitude and point of his answers, not less than by the grossness of his manners, his bad habits at table, his wild timidity, like that of a badly brought-up child, his grimaces, and a frightful twitching which at times convulsed his whole face. peter had then a beautiful brown skin, with great piercing eyes, but his features already bore traces of toil and debauchery. "he must have very good and very bad points," said the young electress; and in this he represented contemporary russia. "if he had received a better education," adds the princess, "he would have been an accomplished man." the suite of the czar were not less surprising than their master; the muscovites danced with the court ladies, and took the stiffening of their corsets for their bones. "the bones of these germans are devilish hard!" said the czar. leaving the great embassy on the road peter travelled quickly and reached saardam. the very day of his arrival he took a lodging at a blacksmith's, procured himself a complete costume like those worn by dutch workmen, and began to wield the axe. he bargained for a boat, bought it, and drank the traditional pint of beer with its owner. he visited cutleries, ropewalks, and other manufactories, and everywhere tried his hand at the work: in a paper manufactory he made some paper. however, in spite of the tradition, he only remained eight days at saardam. at amsterdam his eccentricities were no less astonishing. he neither took any rest himself nor allowed others to do so; he exhausted all his _ciceroni_, always repeating, "i must see it." he inspected the most celebrated anatomical collections; engaged artists, workmen, officers, and engineers; and bought models of ships and collections of naval laws and treaties. he entered familiarly the houses of private individuals, gained the good-will of the dutch by his _bonhomie_, penetrated into the recesses of the shops and stalls, and remained lost in admiration over a dentist. but, amid all these distractions, he never lost sight of his aim. "we labor," he wrote to the patriarch adrian, "in order thoroughly to master the art of the sea; so that, having once learned it, we may return to russia and conquer the enemies of christ, and free by his grace the christians who are oppressed. this is what i shall long for to my last breath." he was vexed at making so little progress in shipbuilding, but in holland everyone had to learn by personal experience. a naval captain told him that in england instruction was based on principles, and these he could learn in four months; so peter crossed the sea, and spent three months in london and the neighboring towns. there he took into his service goldsmiths and gold-beaters, architects and bombardiers. he then returned to holland, and, his ship being attacked by a violent tempest, he reassured those who trembled for his safety by the remark, "did you ever hear of a czar of russia who was drowned in the north sea?" though much occupied with his technical studies, he had not neglected policy; he had conversed with william iii, but did not visit france in this tour, for "louis xiv," says st. simon, "had procured the postponement of his visit"; the fact being that his alliance with the emperor and his wars with the turks were looked on with disfavor at versailles. he went to vienna to study the military art, and dissuaded leopold from making peace with the sultan. peter wished to conquer kertch in order to secure the straits of ienikale. he was preparing to go to venice, when vexatious intelligence reached him from moscow. the first reforms of peter, his first attempts against the national prejudices and customs, had raised him up a crowd of enemies. old russia did not allow herself quietly to be set aside by the bold innovator. there was in the interior a sullen and resolute resistance, which sometimes gave birth to bloody scenes. the revolt of the streltsi, the insurrection of astrakhan, the rebellion of the cossacks, and later the trial of his son and first wife are only episodes of the great struggle. already the priests were teaching that antichrist was born. now it had been prophesied that antichrist should be born of an adulteress, and peter was the son of the _second_ wife of alexis, therefore his mother natalia was the "false virgin," the adulterous woman of the prophecies. the increasingly heavy taxes that weighed on the people were another sign that the time had come. others, disgusted by the taste shown by the czar for german clothes and foreign languages and adventures, affirmed that he was not the son of alexis, but of lefort the genevan, or that his father was a german surgeon. they were scandalized to see the czar, like another gregory otrepief, expose himself to blows in his military "amusements." the lower orders were indignant at the abolition of the long beards and national costume, and the _raskolniks_[ ] at the authorization of "the sacrilegious smell of tobacco." [footnote : dissenters from the orthodox church of russia (greek church).--ed.] the journey to the west completed the general dissatisfaction. had anyone ever before seen a czar of moscow quit holy russia to wander in the kingdoms of foreigners? who knew what adventures might befall him among the _niemtsi_ and the _bousourmanes_? for the russian people hardly knew how to distinguish between the turks and the germans, and were wholly ignorant of france and england. under an unknown sky, at the extremity of the world, on the shores of the "ocean sea," what dangers might he not encounter? then a singular legend was invented about the travels of the czar. it was said that he went to stockholm disguised as a merchant, and that the queen had recognized him and had tried in vain to capture him. according to another version, she had plunged him in a dungeon, and delivered him over to his enemies, who wished to put him in a cask lined with nails and throw him into the sea. he had only been saved by a streletz who had taken his place. some asserted that peter was still kept there; and in the streltsi and raskolniks of astrakhan still gave out that it was a false czar who had come back to moscow--the true czar was a prisoner at stockholm, attached to a stake. in the midst of this universal disturbance, caused by the absence of peter, there were certain symptoms peculiarly disquieting. the muscovite army grew more and more hostile to the new order of things. in peter had discovered a fresh conspiracy, having for its object the deliverance of sophia; and at the very moment of his departure from russia he had to put down a plot of streltsi and cossacks headed by colonel tsykler. those of the streltsi who had been sent to form the garrison of azov pined for their wives, their children, and the trades they had left in moscow. when in the absence of the czar they were sent from azov to the frontiers of poland, they again began to murmur. "what a fate is ours! it is the boyars who do all the mischief; for three years they have kept us from our homes." two hundred deserted and returned to moscow; but the douma, fearing their presence in the already troubled capital, expelled them by force. they brought back to their regiments a letter of sophia. "you suffer," she wrote; "later it will become worse. march on moscow. what is it you wait for? there is no news of the czar." it was repeated through the army that the czar had died in foreign lands, and that the boyars wished to put his son alexis to death. it was necessary to march on moscow and exterminate the nobles. the military sedition was complicated by the religious fanaticism of the raskolniks and the demagogic passions of the popular army. four regiments revolted and deserted. generals schein and gordon, with their regular troops, hastened after them, came up with them on the banks of the iskra, and tried to persuade them to return to their duty. the streltsi replied by a petition setting forth all their grievances: "many of them had died during the expedition to azov, suggested by lefort, a german, a heretic; they had endured fatiguing marches over burning plains, their only food being bad meat; their strength had been exhausted by severe tasks, and they had been banished to distant garrisons. moscow was now a prey to all sorts of horrors. foreigners had introduced the custom of shaving the beard and smoking tobacco. it was said that these niemtsi meant to seize the town. on this rumor, the streltsi had arrived, and also because romodanovski wished to disperse and put them to the sword without anyone knowing why." a few cannon-shots were sufficient to scatter the rebels. a large number were arrested; torture, the gibbet, and the dungeon awaited the captives. when peter hastened home from vienna he decided that his generals and his douma had been too lenient. he had old grievances against the streltsi; they had been the army of sophia, in opposition to the army of the czar; he remembered the invasion of the kremlin, the massacre of his mother's family, her terrors in troitsa, and the conspiracies which all but delayed his journey to the west. at the very time that he was travelling in europe for the benefit of his people, these incorrigible mutineers had forced him to renounce his dearest projects and had stopped him on the road to venice. he resolved to take advantage of the opportunity by crushing his enemies _en masse_, and by making the old russia feel the weight of a terror that would recall the days of ivan iv. the long beards had been the standard of revolt--they should fall. on august th he ordered all the gentlemen of his court to shave themselves, and himself applied the razor to his great lords. the same day the red place was covered with gibbets. the patriarch adrian tried in vain to appease the anger of the czar by presenting to him the wonder-working image of the mother of god. "why hast thou brought out the holy icon?" exclaimed the czar. "retire and restore it to its place. know that i venerate god and his mother as much as thyself, but know also that it is my duty to protect the people and punish the rebels." on october th there arrived at the red place the first instalment of two hundred thirty prisoners: they came in carts, with lighted torches in their hands, nearly all already broken by torture, and followed by their wives and children, who ran behind chanting a funeral wail. their sentence was read, and they were slain, the czar ordering several officers to help the executioner. john george korb, the austrian agent, who as an eye-witness has left us an authentic account of the executions, heard that five rebel heads had been sent into the dust by blows from an axe wielded by the noblest hand in russia. the terrible carpenter of saardam worked and obliged his boyars to work at this horrible employment. seven other days were employed in this way; a thousand victims were put to death. some were broken on the wheel, and others died by various modes of torture. the removal of the corpses was forbidden: for five months moscow had before its eyes the spectacle of the dead bodies hanging from the battlements of the kremlin and the other ramparts; and for five months the streltsi suspended to the bars of sophia's prison presented her the petition by which they had entreated her to reign. two of her confidants were buried alive; she herself, with eudoxia lapoukhine, peter's wife, who had been repudiated for her obstinate attachment to the ancient customs, had their heads shaved and were confined in monasteries. after the revolt of the inhabitants of astrakhan, who put their waywode to death, the old militia was completely abolished, and the way left clear for the formation of new troops. %tyranny of andros in new england% the "bloodless revolution" a.d. charles w. elliot when the spirit of the english revolution of crossed the atlantic and stirred the new england colonists to throw off the stuart tyranny represented by andros, a long step was taken in the development of early american self-government. the charter oak tradition, whether or not resting on actual occurrences, correctly typifies the temper of that self-government as it has ever manifested itself in the crises of patriotic development in this country. and the ending of theocratic government, as here recorded of massachusetts, foreshadowed the further growth of democracy in america. sir william andros, an englishman, was colonial governor of new york from to , and of new england, including new york, from to . his rule "was on the model dear to the heart of his royal master--a harsh despotism, but neither strong nor wise; it was wretched misgovernment and stupid, blundering oppression." what poor success andros had in his attempt to force such a rule upon people of the english race who had already accustomed themselves to a large measure of independence and self-government elliott's account briefly but fully shows. while colonies are poor they are neglected by the parent state; when they are able to pay taxes then she is quite ready to "govern them"; she is willing to appoint various dependents to important offices, and to allow the colonies to pay liberal salaries; she likes also to tax them to the amount of the surplus production which is transferred to the managers in the mother-country. surprising as this is, it is what many call "government," and is common everywhere. england has been no exception to this, and her practice in new england was of this character till, in the year , the back of the people was so galled that it threw its rider with violence. at various times attempts had been made to destroy the massachusetts charter. at the restoration of charles ii, in , the enemies of the puritans roused themselves. all who scented the breath of liberty in those western gales--all who had been disappointed of fond hopes in those infant states--all who had felt in new england, too, the iron hand of ecclesiastical tyranny, who chafed in the religious manacles which there, as everywhere else, were imposed upon the minority--all united against them; and in commissioners were sent over with extraordinary powers. the colony withstood them to the best of its ability; but at last, in , a _quo warranto_ was issued, and judgment was obtained in england against the massachusetts charter. in the quo warranto was brought over by edward randolph, who had been appointed collector of the port of boston in , but had not been allowed to act. he was the "messenger of death" to the hopes of the colony. the deputies refused to appear in england and plead, and judgment was entered up against them at last, in , and the charter was abrogated. charles died, and the bitter and bigoted james ii came to the throne in . the colonists then had rumors that colonel kirke, the fiercest hater of the nonconformists in england, was coming over as governor, which filled them with dread. the colony now seemed to be at the mercy of the churchmen, or, worse than that, of the papists, for such was james. mr. rawson, secretary of the colony, about this time wrote, "our condition is awful." mr. joseph dudley was appointed governor and acted for a short time, but was succeeded by sir edmund andros, who arrived december , , with a commission from james ii, to take upon himself the absolute government of all new england. andros was supposed to be a bigoted papist, and he certainly carried matters with a high hand; the poisoned chalice of religious despotism, which these pilgrims had commended to the lips of roger williams, the browns, mrs. hutchinson, gorton, clarke, and the quakers, was now offered to their own lips, and the draught was bitter. first, the press was muzzled; then marriage was no longer free. the minister moody ( ) was imprisoned six months in new hampshire for refusing to administer the communion to cranfield and others, according to the manner and form set forth in the _book of common prayer_. the congregational ministers were as mere laymen, and danger menaced public worship and the meeting-houses. but this last extremity was saved them by the necessity which james was under of securing the triumph of _his_ church in protestant england, the first step toward which was the proclamation of religious toleration. this, of course, secured the colonists, and the pilgrims were saved that fearful misery of being driven out from their own cherished altars. andros carried things with as high a hand in massachusetts as his master did in england; absolute subjection they both insisted on. besides the denial of political and religious rights, the practice of arbitrary taxation was asserted by andros, and all titles to lands were questioned; in the brutal phrase of the time, it was declared that "the calf died in the cow's belly"; that is, having no rights as a state, they had none as individuals; so fees, fines, and expenditures impoverished the people and enriched the officials. all seemed lost in massachusetts. andros went down to hartford, in connecticut, with his suite, and with sixty troops took possession of the government there and demanded the charter. through the day (october , ) the authorities remonstrated and postponed. when they met andros again in the evening the people collected, much excited. there seemed no relief. their palladium, their charter, was demanded, and before them stood andros, with soldiers and drawn swords, to compel his demand. there was then no hope, and the roll of parchment--the charter, with the great royal seal upon it--was brought forth and laid upon the table, in the midst of the excited people. suddenly, without warning, all lights were extinguished! there were darkness and silence, followed by wonder, movement, and confusion. what meant this very unparliamentary conduct, or was it a gust of wind which had startled all? lights were soon obtained, and then-- "where is the charter?" was the question that went round the assembly. "what means this?" cried andros, in anger. but no man knew where the charter had disappeared to; neither threats nor persuasion brought it to light. what could andros do? clearly nothing, for the authorities had done all that could be asked; they had produced the charter in the presence of andros, and now it had disappeared from his presence. he had come upon a fool's errand, and some sharp yankee (captain wadsworth) had outwitted him. where was the charter? safely hidden in the heart of the great oak, at hartford, on the grounds of samuel wyllys. there it remained beyond the reach of tyranny. the tree known as the "charter oak" stood for over a century and a half from that day. the indians had always prayed that the tree might be spared; they have our thanks. andros wrote on the last page of their records, _finis_, and disappeared--but that was not the end of connecticut. it was a dark time for liberty in new england, and a dark day for liberty in old england; for there james ii and his unscrupulous ministers were corruptly, grossly, and illegally trampling down the rights of manhood. andros was doing it in new england, and he found in dudley, stoughton, clark, and others, sons of new england, ready feet. in randolph writes, "we are as arbitrary as the great turk"; which seems to have been true. the hearts of the best men in both countries sank within them, and they cried in their discouragement, "o lord! how long!" thus matters stood when, during the spring of - , faint rumors of the landing of william, prince of orange, in england, came from virginia. could this be true? it brought andros up to boston (april), where he gave orders to have the soldiers ready against surprise. liberty is the most ardent wish of a brave and noble people, and is too often betrayed by confidence in cultivated and designing and timid men. liberty was the wish of the people of new england; and for the want of brave men then and since then they suffered. when, on april th, john winslow brought from virginia the rumor of the english revolution and the landing of the prince of orange, it went through their blood like the electric current, and thrilled from the city along the byways into every home. men got on their horses and rode onward to the next house to carry the tidings that the popish king was down and william was up, and that there was hope; through town and country the questions were eagerly asked: "shall we get our old charter? shall we regain our rights?" "what is there for us to do?" cried the people. andros put out a proclamation that all persons should be in readiness to resist the forces of the prince of orange should they come. but the old magistrates and leaders silently prayed for his success; the people, less cautious and more determined, said to one another: "let us do something. why not act?" and this went from mouth to mouth till their hatred of andros, and the remembrance to his dastardly oppressions, blazed into a consuming fire. "on april , ," wrote an onlooker, "i knew not anything of what was intended until it was begun, yet being at the north end of the town, where i saw boys running along the streets with clubs in their hands encouraging one another to fight, i began to mistrust what was intended, and hasting toward the town dock i soon saw men running for their arms; but before i got to the red lion i was told that captain george and the master of the frigate were seized and secured in mr. colman's house at the north end; and when i came to the town dock i understood that bullivant and some others were laid hold of, and then immediately the drums began to beat, and the people hastened and ran, some with and some for arms," etc. so it was begun, no one knew by whom; but men remembered yet their old liberties and were ready to risk something to regain them; they remembered, too, their present tyrants and longed to punish them. but in all this, men of property took no part--they are always timid. it was the "mob" that acted. governor andros was at the fort with some soldiers, and sent for the clergymen to come to him, who declined. the people and train-bands rallied together at the town house, where old governor bradstreet and some other principal men met to consult as to what should be done. the king's frigate in the harbor ran up her flags, and the lieutenant swore he would die before she should be taken, and he opened her ports and ran out her guns; but captain george (prisoner in boston) sent him word not to fire a shot, for the people would tear him in pieces if he did. in the afternoon the soldiers and people marched to the fort, took possession of a battery, turned its guns upon the fort and demanded its surrender. they did not wait for its surrender, but stormed in through the portholes, and captain john nelson, a boston merchant, cried out to andros, "i demand your surrender." andros was surprised at the anger of an outraged people, and knew not what to do, but at last gave up the fort, and was lodged prisoner in mr. usher's house. the next day he was forced to give up the castle in the harbor, and the guns of the battery from the shore were brought to bear upon the frigate. but the captain prayed that she might not be forced to surrender, because all the officers and crew would lose their wages; so she was dismantled for present security. all through the day people came pouring in from the country, well armed and hot with rage against andros and his confederates; and the cooler men trembled lest some unnecessary violence might be done; so captain fisher, of dedham, led andros by the collar of the coat back to the fort for safety. on the th bradstreet and other leading men met, and formed a kind of provisional council. they carefully abstained from resuming their old charter, partly from fear and partly from doubt, and called upon the towns to send up deputies. when these met, on may , , forty out of fifty-four were for "resuming," but a majority of the council opposed it, and time was spent in disputes; but at last the old governor and magistrates accepted the control of affairs, though they would not consent to resume the charter. thus the moment for action passed, and the colony lost that chance for reestablishing its old rights. rhode island and connecticut resumed their charters, which had never been legally vacated. mr. threat was obliged to take again the office of governor of connecticut, when the amazing reports of the revolution and seizure of the governor in massachusetts reached them. they issued loyal addresses to william and mary, in which they said: "great was that day when the lord who sitteth upon the floods did divide his and your adversaries like the waters of jordan, and did begin to magnify you like joshua, by the deliverance of the english dominions from popery and slavery." andros escaped, but was apprehended at rhode island, and sent back to boston, and in february, , with dudley and some others, he was sent away to england. increase mather, the agent of the massachusetts bay colony, with the aid of friends in england, endeavored to gain the restoration of the old charter from king william, but was unsuccessful; a new one was granted ( ), which contained many of the old privileges; but the king would not grant them the power of appointing their own governor; that power was reserved; and appeals from the colony courts to england were allowed. the governor and the king both had a veto upon all colonial legislation. by it all religions except the roman catholic were declared free, and plymouth was annexed to massachusetts. thus two important elements of a free government were lost to massachusetts; and powers which had been exercised over fifty years were, for nigh a hundred years, taken away. in connecticut and rhode island they continued to elect their own rulers and to exercise all the powers of government. the new charter was brought over by sir william phipps, the new governor appointed by the king, who arrived on may , . thus ended the rule of the theocracy in massachusetts, and from this time forward the ministers and church-members possessed no more power than the rest of the people. %massacre of lachine% a.d. franÇois xavier garneau just after count frontenac's first administration of canada ( - ), when the colony of new france was under the rule of de la barre and his successor, the marquis de denonville, montreal and its immediate vicinity suffered from the most terrible and bloody of all the indian massacres of the colonial days. the hatred of the five nations for the french, stimulated by the british colonists of new york, under its governor, colonel dongan, was due to french forays on the seneca tribes, and to the capture and forwarding to the royal galleys in france of many of the betrayed iroquois chiefs. at this period the english on the seaboard began to extend their trade into the interior of the continent and to divert commerce from the st. lawrence to the hudson. this gave rise to keen rivalries between the two european races, and led the english to take sides with the iroquois in their enmity to the french. the latter, at governor denonville's instigation, sought to settle accounts summarily with the iroquois, believing that the tribes of the five nations could never be conciliated, and that it was well to extirpate them at once. soon the governor put his fell purpose into effect. with a force of two thousand men, in a fleet of canoes, he entered the seneca country by the genesee river, and for ten days ravaged the iroquois homes and put many of them cruelly to death. returning by the niagara river he erected and garrisoned a fort at its mouth and then withdrew to québec. a terrible revenge was taken on the french colonists for these infamous acts, as the following article by m. garneau shows. the situation of the colonists of new france during the critical era of m. denonville's administration was certainly anything but enviable. they literally "dwelt in the midst of alarms," yet their steady courage in facing perils, and their endurance of privations when unavoidable, were worthy of admiration. a lively idea of what they had to resist or to suffer may be found by reading the more particular parts of the governor's despatches to paris. for instance, in one of these he wrote in reference to the raids of the iroquois: "the savages are just so many animals of prey, scattered through a vast forest, whence they are ever ready to issue, to raven and kill in the adjoining countries. after their ravages, to go in pursuit of them is a constant but almost bootless task. they have no settled place whither they can be traced with any certainty; they must be watched everywhere, and long waited for, with fire-arms ready primed. many of their lurking-places could be reached only by blood-hounds or by other savages as our trackers, but those in our service are few, and the native allies we have are seldom trustworthy; they fear the enemy more than they love us, and they dread, on their own selfish account, to drive the iroquois to extremity. it has been resolved, in the present strait, to erect a fort in every seigniory, as a place of shelter for helpless people and live-stock, at times when the open country is overrun with ravagers. as matters now stand, the arable grounds lie wide apart, and are so begirt with bush that every thicket around serves as a point for attack by a savage foe; insomuch that an army, broken up into scattered posts, would be needful to protect the cultivators of our cleared lands."[ ] [footnote : letter to m. seignelai, august , .] nevertheless, at one time hopes were entertained that more peaceful times were coming. in effect, negotiations with the five nations were recommenced; and the winter of - was passed in goings to and fro between the colonial authorities and the leaders of the iroquois, with whom several conferences were holden. a correspondence, too, was maintained by the governor with colonel dongan at new york; the latter intimating in one of his letters that he had formed a league of all the iroquois tribes, and put arms in their hands, to enable them to defend british colonial territory against all comers. the iroquois confederation itself sent a deputation to canada, which was escorted as far as lake st. françois by twelve hundred warriors--a significant demonstration enough. the envoys, after having put forward their pretensions with much stateliness and yet more address, said that, nevertheless, their people did not mean to press for all the advantages they had the right and the power to demand. they intimated that they were perfectly aware of the comparative weakness of the colony; that the iroquois could at any time burn the houses of the inhabitants, pillage their stores, waste their crops, and afterward easily raze the forts. the governor-general, in reply to these--not quite unfounded--boastings and arrogant assumptions, said that colonel dongan claimed the iroquois as english subjects, and admonished the deputies that, if such were the case, then they must act according to his orders, which would necessarily be pacific, france and england not now being at war; whereupon the deputies responded, as others had done before, that the confederation formed an independent power; that it had always resisted french as well as english supremacy over its subjects; and that the coalesced iroquois would be neutral, or friends or else enemies to one or both, at discretion; "for we have never been conquered by either of you," they said; adding that, as they held their country immediately from god, they acknowledge no other master. it did not appear, however, that there was a perfect accordance among the envoys on all points, for the deputies from onnontaguez, the onneyouths, and goyogouins agreed to a truce on conditions proposed by m. denonville; namely, that all the native allies of the french should be comprehended in the treaty. they undertook that deputies [others than some of those present?] should be sent from the agniers and tsonnouthouan cantons, who were then to take part in concluding a treaty; that all hostilities should cease on every side, and that the french should be allowed to revictual, undisturbed, the fort of cataracoui. the truce having been agreed to on those bases, five of the iroquois remained (one for each canton), as hostages for its terms being observed faithfully. notwithstanding this precaution, several roving bands of iroquois, not advertised, possibly, of what was pending, continued to kill our people, burn their dwellings, and slaughter live-stock in different parts of the colony; for example, at st. françois, at sorel, at contrecoeur, and at st. ours. these outrages, however, it must be owned, did not long continue, and roving corps of savages, either singly or by concert, drew off from the invaded country and allowed its harassed people a short breathing-time at least. the native allies of the french, on the other hand, respected the truce little more than the iroquois. the abenaquis invaded the agniers canton, and even penetrated to the english settlements, scalping several persons. the iroquois of the sault and of la montagne did the like; but the hurons of michilimackinac, supposed to be those most averse to the war, did all they could, and most successfully, too, to prevent a peace being signed. while the negotiations were in progress, the "machiavel of the wilderness," as raynal designates a huron chief, bearing the native name of kondiarak, but better known as le rat in the colonial annals, arrived at frontenac (kingston), with a chosen band of his tribe, and became a means of complicating yet more the difficulties of the crisis. he was the most enterprising, brave, and best-informed chief in all north america; and, as such, was one courted by the governor in hopes of his becoming a valuable auxiliary to the french, although at first one of their most formidable enemies. he now came prepared to battle in their favor, and eager to signalize himself in the service of his new masters. the time, however, as we may well suppose, was not opportune, and he was informed that a treaty with the iroquois being far advanced, and their deputies on the way to montreal to conclude it, he would give umbrage to the governor-general of canada should he persevere in the hostilities he had been already carrying on. the rat was taken aback on hearing this to him unwelcome news, but took care to hide his surprise and uttered no complaint. yet was he mortally offended that the french should have gone so far in the matter without the concert of their native allies, and he at once resolved to punish them, in his own case, for such a marked slight. he set out secretly with his braves, laid an ambuscade near famine cove for the approaching deputation of iroquois, murdered several and made the others his prisoners. having done so, he secretly gloried in the act, afterward saying that he had "killed the peace." yet in dealing with the captives he put another and a deceptive face on the matter; for, on courteously questioning them as to the object of their journey, being told that they were peaceful envoys, he affected great wonder, seeing that it was denonville himself who had sent him on purpose to waylay them! to give seeming corroboration to his astounding assertions, he set the survivors at liberty, retaining one only to replace one of his men who was killed by the iroquois in resisting the hurons' attack. leaving the deputies to follow what course they thought fit, he hastened with his men to michilimackinac, where he presented his prisoner to m. durantaye, who, not as yet officially informed, perhaps, that a truce existed with the iroquois, consigned him to death, though he gave durantaye assurance of who he really was; but when the victim appealed to the rat for confirmation of his being an accredited envoy, that unscrupulous personage told him he must be out of his mind to imagine such a thing! this human sacrifice offered up, the rat called upon an aged iroquois, then and long previously a huron captive, to return to his compatriots and inform them from him that while the french were making a show of peace-seeking, they were, underhand, killing and making prisoners of their native antagonists. this artifice, a manifestation of the diabolic nature of its author, had too much of the success intended by it, for, although the governor managed to disculpate himself in the eyes of the more candid-minded iroquois leaders, yet there were great numbers of the people who could not be disabused, as is usual in such cases, even among civilized races. nevertheless the enlightened few, who really were tired of the war, agreed to send a second deputation to canada; but when it was about to set out, a special messenger arrived, sent by andros, successor of dongan, enjoining the chiefs of the iroquois confederation not to treat with the french without the participation of his master, and announcing at the same time that the king of great britain had taken the iroquois nations under his protection. concurrently with this step, andros wrote to denonville that the iroquois territory was a dependency holden of the british, and that he would not permit its people to treat upon those conditions already proposed by dongan. this transaction took place in ; but before that year concluded, andros' "royal master" was himself superseded, and living an exile in france.[ ] whether instructions sent from england previously warranted the polity pursued by andros or not, his injunctions had the effect of instantly stopping the negotiations with the iroquois, and prompting them to recommence their vengeful hostilities. war between france and britain being proclaimed next year, the american colonists of the latter adopted the iroquois as their especial allies, in the ensuing contests with the people of new france. [footnote : in andros was appointed governor of new york and new england. the appointment of this tyrant, and the annexation of the colony to the neighboring ones, were measures particularly odious to the people.--ed.] andros, meanwhile, who adopted the policy of his predecessor so far as regarded the aborigines if in no other respect, not only fomented the deadly enmity of the iroquois for the canadians, but tried to detach the abenaquis from their alliance with the french, but without effect in their case; for this people honored the countrymen of the missionaries who had made the gospel known to them, and their nation became a living barrier to new france on that side, which no force sent from new england could surmount; insomuch that the abenaquis, some time afterward, having crossed the borders of the english possessions, and harassed the remoter colonists, the latter were fain to apply to the iroquois to enable them to hold their own. the declaration of andros, and the armings of the iroquois, now let loose on many parts of canada, gave rise to a project as politic, perhaps, as it was daring, and such as communities when in extremity have adopted with good effect; namely, to divert invasion by directly attacking the enemies' neighboring territories. the chevalier de callières, with whom the idea originated, after having suggested to denonville a plan for making a conquest of the province of new york, set out for france, to bring it under the consideration of the home government, believing that it was the only means left to save canada to the mother-country. it was high time, indeed, that the destinies of canada were confided to other directors than the late and present ones, left as the colony had been, since the departure of m. de frontenac, in the hands of superannuated or incapable chiefs. any longer persistency in the policy of its two most recent governors might have irreparably compromised the future existence of the colony. but worse evils were in store for the latter days of the denonville administration; a period which, take it altogether, was one of the most calamitous which our forefathers passed through. at the time we have now reached in this history an unexpected as well as unwonted calm pervaded the country, yet the governor had been positively informed that a desolating inroad by the collective iroquois had been arranged, and that its advent was imminent; but as no precursive signs of it appeared anywhere to the general eyes, it was hoped that the storm, said to be ready to burst, might yet be evaded. none being able to account for the seeming inaction of the iroquois, the governor applied to the jesuits for their opinion on the subject. the latter expressed their belief that those who had brought intelligence of the evil intention of the confederacy had been misinformed as to facts, or else exaggerated sinister probabilities. the prevailing calm was therefore dangerous as well as deceitful, for it tended to slacken preparations which ought to have been made to lessen the apprehensions of coming events which threw no shadow before. the winter and the spring of the year - had been passed in an unusually tranquil manner, and the summer was pretty well advanced when the storm, long pent up, suddenly fell on the beautiful island of montreal, the garden of canada. during the night of august th, amid a storm of hail and rain, fourteen hundred iroquois traversed lake st. louis, and disembarked silently on the upper strand of that island. before daybreak next morning the invaders had taken their station at lachine in platoons around every considerable house within a radius of several leagues. the inmates were buried in sleep--soon to be the dreamless sleep that knows no waking, for too many of them. the iroquois wait only for the signal from their leaders to fall on. it is given. in short space the doors and the windows of the dwellings are driven in; the sleepers dragged from their beds; men, women, children all struggling in the hands of their butchers. such houses as the savages cannot force their way into, they fire; and as the flames reach the persons of those within, intolerable pain drives them forth to meet death beyond the threshold, from beings who know no pity. the more fiendish murderers even forced parents to throw their children into the flames. two hundred persons were burned alive; others died under prolonged tortures. many were reserved to perish similarly, at a future time. the fair island upon which the sun shone brightly erewhile, was lighted up by fires of woe; houses, plantations, and crops were reduced to ashes, while the ground reeked with blood up to a line a short league apart from montreal city. the ravagers crossed to the opposite shore, the desolation behind them being complete, and forthwith the parish of le chenaie was wasted by fire and many of its people massacred. the colonists for many leagues around the devoted region seem to have been actually paralyzed by the brain-blow thus dealt their compatriots by the relentless savages, as no one seems to have moved a step to arrest their course; for they were left in undisturbed possession of the country during several weeks. on hearing of the invasion, denonville lost his self-possession altogether. when numbers of the colonists, recovering from their stupor, came up armed desiring to be led against the murderers of their countrymen, he sent them back or forbade them to stir! several opportunities presented themselves for disposing of parties of the barbarians, when reckless from drink after their orgies, or when roving about in scattered parties feeble in number; but the governor-general's positive orders to refrain from attacking them withheld the uplifted hand from striking. in face of a prohibition so authoritative, the soldiers and the inhabitants alike could only look on and wait till the savages should find it convenient to retire. some small skirmishing, indeed, there was at a few distant points between the people and their invaders. thus a party of men, partly french and partly natives, led by larobeyre, an ex-lieutenant, on the way to reënforce fort roland, where chevalier de vaudreuil commanded, were set upon and all killed or dispersed. more than half of the prisoners taken were burned by their conquerors. larobeyre, being wounded and not able to fire, was led captive by the iroquois to their country, and roasted at a slow fire in presence of the assembled tribe of his captors. meantime the resistance to the barbarians being little or none in the regions they overran, they slew most of the inhabitants they met in their passage; while their course was marked, wherever they went, by lines of flame. their bands moved rapidly from one devoted tract to another; yet wherever they had to face concerted resistance--which in some cases, at least, put a fitting obstacle in the way of their intended ravagings--they turned aside and sought an easier prey elsewhere. in brief, during ten entire weeks or more, did they wreak their wrath, almost unchecked, upon the fairest region of canada, and did not retire thence till about mid-october. the governor-general having sent a party of observation to assure himself of the enemy having decamped, this detachment observed a canoe on the lake of the two mountains, bearing twenty-two of the retiring iroquois. the canadians, who were of about the same number, embarked in two boats and, nearing the savages, coolly received their fire; but in returning the discharge, each singled out his man, when eighteen of the iroquois were at once laid low. however difficult it may have been to put the people of a partially cleared country, surrounded with forests, on their guard against such an irruption as the foregoing, it is difficult to account for their total unpreparedness without imputing serious blame to denonville and his subalterns in office. that he exercised no proper influence, in the first place, was evident, and the small use he made of the means he had at his disposal when the crisis arrived was really something to marvel at. he was plainly unequal to the occasion, and his incapacity in every particular made it quite impossible for his presence, as chief of the colony, to be endured any longer. there is little doubt that had he not been soon recalled by royal order, the colonists themselves would have set him aside. the latter season of his inglorious administration took the lugubrious name "the year of the massacre."[ ] [footnote : the five nations, being at war with the french, made a sudden descent on montreal, burned and sacked the town, killed one hundred of the inhabitants, carrying away a number of prisoners whom they burned alive, and then returned to their own country with the loss of only a few of their number. had the english followed up the success of their allies, all canada might have been easily conquered.--ed.] the man appointed through a happy inspiration to supersede m. de denonville had now reached the lower canadian waters. he was no other than the count de frontenac. it appears that the king, willing to cover, with a handsome pretext, the recall of denonville, in a letter dated may st, advertised him that, war having been rekindled in europe, his military talents would be of the greatest use in home service. by this time de frontenac was called to give counsel regarding the projects of the chevalier de callières, and assist in preparing the way for their realization if considered feasible. meanwhile he undertook to resume his duties as governor-general of new france; but a series of events delayed his arrival in canada till the autumn of . he landed at québec on october th, at p.m., accompanied by de callières, amid the heartiest demonstrations of popular welcome. the public functionaries and armed citizens in waiting, with torch-bearers, escorted him through the city, which was spontaneously illuminated, to his quarters. his return was hailed by all, but by none more than the jesuits, who had, in fact for years before, labored to obtain his recall. the nobles, the merchants, the business class, gave him so hearty a reception as to convince him that real talent such as his must in the end rise superior to all the conjoined efforts of faction, public prejudices, and the evil passions of inferior minds. war was declared against britain in the month of june. m. de frontenac, on resuming the reins of government, had to contend both against the anglo-american colonies and the five nations. his energy and skill, however, overcame all obstacles; the war was most glorious for the canadians, so few in number compared with their adversaries; and far from succumbing to their enemies, they carried the war into the adversaries' camp and struck at the heart of their most remote possessions. %siege of londonderry and battle of the boyne% a.d. - tobias g. smollett londonderry, capital of the county of the same name in ireland, is a city of historic celebrity by reason of the successful defence there made (april-august, ) by the irish protestants against the besieging forces of james ii. the battle of the boyne (july , ) is of less importance in a military sense than for the reason that it virtually ended the war which james ii carried into ireland in his unsuccessful attempt to regain his throne from william and mary. on account of this result, and still more by reason of the hereditary antagonisms which have so long survived it, this battle still retains a peculiar fame in history. in ireland, where the roman catholics were numerous, there was strong opposition to the government of william and mary. the fugitive james ii had supporters who controlled the irish army. some resistance was made by the english and scotch colonists in ireland, but little head was made against the catholic party, which supported james, until william entered the country with his forces. in the following narrative smollett speaks of an "intended massacre" of the protestants at londonderry. the people of that city were of anglo-saxon blood. although belonging to various protestant churches, they were united in their hostility to the irish and to the catholic faith. they were alarmed at the close of by rumors of a plan for their own extirpation by the papists. news of the approach of the earl of antrim with a regiment, under orders from the lord deputy, filled the city with consternation. what followed there is graphically told in the words of the historian. a better account of a military action than that which smollett gives of the battle of the boyne it would be hard to find. on the first alarm of an intended massacre, the protestants of londonderry had shut their gates against the regiment commanded by the earl of antrim, and resolved to defend themselves against the lord deputy; they transmitted this resolution to the government of england, together with an account of the danger they incurred by such a vigorous measure, and implored immediate assistance; they were accordingly supplied with some arms and ammunition, but did not receive any considerable reënforcement till the middle of april, when two regiments arrived at loughfoyl under the command of cunningham and richards. by this time king james had taken coleraine, invested kilmore, and was almost in sight of londonderry. george walker, rector of donaghmore, who had raised a regiment for the defence of the protestants, conveyed this intelligence to lundy, the governor; this officer directed him to join colonel crafton, and take post at the longcausey, which he maintained a whole night against the advanced guard of the enemy, until, being overpowered by numbers, he retreated to londonderry and exhorted the governor to take the field, as the army of king james was not yet completely formed. lundy assembling a council of war, at which cunningham and richards assisted, they agreed that as the place was not tenable, it would be imprudent to land the two regiments; and that the principal officers should withdraw themselves from londonderry, the inhabitants of which would obtain the more favorable capitulation in consequence of their retreat; an officer was immediately despatched to king james with proposals of a negotiation; and lieutenant-general hamilton agreed that the army should halt at the distance of four miles from the town. notwithstanding this preliminary, james advanced at the head of his troops, but met with such a warm reception from the besieged that he was fain to retire to st. john's town in some disorder. the inhabitants and soldiers in garrison at londonderry were so incensed at the members of the council of war who had resolved to abandon the place that they threatened immediate vengeance. cunningham and richards retired to their ships, and lundy locked himself in his chamber. in vain did walker and major baker exhort him to maintain his government; such was his cowardice or treachery that he absolutely refused to be concerned in the defence of the place, and he was suffered to escape in disguise, with a load of matches on his back; but he was afterward apprehended in scotland, from whence he was sent to london to answer for his perfidy or misconduct. after his retreat the townsmen chose mr. walker and major baker for their governors with joint authority; but this office they would not undertake until it had been offered to colonel cunningham, as the officer next in command to lundy; he rejected the proposal, and with richards returned to england, where they were immediately cashiered. the two new governors, thus abandoned to their fate, began to prepare for a vigorous defence: indeed their courage seems to have transcended the bounds of discretion, for the place was very ill-fortified; their cannon, which did not exceed twenty pieces, were wretchedly mounted; they had not one engineer to direct their operations; they had a very small number of horse; the garrison consisted of people unacquainted with military discipline; they were destitute of provisions; they were besieged by a king, in person, at the head of a formidable army, directed by good officers, and supplied with all the necessary implements for a siege or battle. the town was invested on april th; the batteries were soon opened, and several attacks were made with great impetuosity, but the besiegers were always repulsed with considerable loss; the townsmen gained divers advantages in repeated sallies, and would have held their enemies in the utmost contempt had they not been afflicted with a contagious distemper, as well as reduced to extremity by want of provisions; they were even tantalized in their distress, for they had the mortification to see some ships, which had arrived with supplies from england, prevented from sailing up the river by the batteries the enemy had raised on both sides, and a boom with which they had blocked up the channel. at length a reënforcement arrived in the lough, under the command of general kirke, who had deserted his master, and been employed in the service of king william. he found means to convey intelligence to walker that he had troops and provisions on board for their relief, but found it impracticable to sail up the river. he promised, however, that he would land a body of forces at the inch, and endeavor to make a diversion in their favor, when joined by the troops at inniskillen, which amounted to five thousand men, including two thousand cavalry. he said he expected six thousand men from england, where they were embarked before he set sail; he exhorted them to persevere in their courage and loyalty, and assured them that he would come to their relief at all hazards. the assurances enabled them to bear their miseries a little longer, though their numbers daily diminished. major baker dying, his place was filled by colonel michelburn, who now acted as colleague to mr. walker. king james having returned to dublin to be present at the parliament, the command of his army devolved to the french general, rosene,[ ] who was exasperated by such an obstinate opposition by a handful of half-starved militia. he threatened to raze the town to its foundations and destroy the inhabitants without distinction of age or sex unless they would immediately submit themselves to their lawful sovereign. the governors treated his menaces with contempt, and published an order that no person, on pain of death, should talk of surrendering. they had now consumed the last remains of their provisions, and supported life by eating the flesh of horses, dogs, cats, rats, mice, and tallow, starch, and salted hides; and even this loathsome food began to fail. rosene, finding them deaf to all his proposals, threatened to wreak his vengeance on all the protestants of that county and drive them under the walls of londonderry, where they should be suffered to perish by famine. the bishop of meath being informed of this design, complained to king james of the barbarous intention, entreating his majesty to prevent its being put into execution; that prince assured him that he had already ordered rosene to desist from such proceedings; nevertheless, the frenchman executed his threats with the utmost rigor. [footnote : james was assisted in his attempt by a small body of french troops, england having entered the grand alliance against louis xiv.--ed.] parties of dragoons were detached on this cruel service. after having stripped all the protestants for thirty miles round, they drove these unhappy people before them like cattle, without even sparing the enfeebled old men, nurses with infants at their breasts, and tender children. about four thousand of these miserable objects were driven under the walls of londonderry. this expedient, far from answering the purpose of rosene, produced a quite contrary effect. the besieged were so exasperated at this act of inhumanity that they resolved to perish rather than submit to such a barbarian. they erected a gibbet in sight of the enemy, and sent a message to the french general importing that they would hang all the prisoners they had taken during the siege unless the protestants whom they had driven under the walls should be immediately dismissed. this threat produced a negotiation, in consequence of which the protestants were released after they had been detained three days without tasting food. some hundreds died of famine or fatigue; and those who lived to return to their own habitations found them plundered and sacked by the papists, so that the greater number perished for want, or were murdered by straggling parties of the enemy. yet these very people had for the most part obtained protection from king james, to which no respect was paid by his general. the garrison of londonderry was now reduced from seven thousand to five thousand seven hundred men, and these were driven to such extremity of distress that they began to talk of killing the popish inhabitants and feeding on their bodies. kirke, who had hitherto lain inactive, ordered two ships laden with provisions to sail up the river, under convoy of the dartmouth (frigate); one of these, called the mountjoy, broke the enemy's boom, and all the three--after having sustained a very hot fire from both sides of the river--arrived in safety at the town, to the inexpressible joy of the inhabitants. the army of james was so dispirited by the success of this enterprise that they abandoned the siege in the night, and retired with precipitation, after having lost about nine thousand men before the place. kirke no sooner took possession of the town than walker was prevailed upon to embark for england, with an address of thanks from the inhabitants to their majesties for the seasonable relief they had received. king james trusted so much to the disputes in the english parliament that he did not believe his son-in-law would be able to quit that kingdom, and william had been six days in ireland before he received intimation of his arrival. this was no sooner known than he left dublin under the guard of the militia, commanded by luttrel, and, with a reënforcement of six thousand infantry which he had lately received from france, joined the rest of his forces, which now almost equalled william's army in number, exclusive of about fifteen thousand men who remained in different garrisons. he occupied a very advantageous post on the bank of the boyne, and, contrary to the advice of his general officers, resolved to stand battle. they proposed to strengthen their garrisons, and retire to the shannon, to wait the effect of the operations at sea. louis had promised to equip a powerful armament against the english fleet, and send over a great number of small frigates to destroy william's transports, as soon as their convoy should be returned to england; the execution of this scheme was not at all difficult, and must have proved fatal to the english army, for their stores and ammunition were still on board; the ships sailed along the coast as the troops advanced in their march; and there was not one secure harbor into which they could retire on any emergency. james, however, was bent on hazarding an engagement, and expressed uncommon confidence and alacrity. besides the river, which was deep, his front was secured by a morass and a rising ground; so that the english army could not attack him without manifest disadvantage. king william marched up to the opposite bank of the river, and as he reconnoitred their situation was exposed to the fire of some field-pieces, which the enemy purposely planted against his person. they killed a man and two horses close by him, and the second bullet rebounding from the earth, grazed on his right shoulder, so as to carry off part of his clothes and skin and produce a considerable contusion. this accident, which he bore without the least emotion, created some confusion among his attendants, which, the enemy perceiving, concluded he was killed, and shouted aloud in token of their joy; the whole camp resounded with acclamation, and several squadrons of their horse were drawn down toward the river as if they intended to pass it immediately and attack the english army. the report was instantly communicated from place to place until it reached dublin; from thence it was conveyed to paris, where, contrary to the custom of the french court, the people were encouraged to celebrate the event with bonfires and illuminations. william rode along the line to show himself to the army after this narrow escape. at night he called a council of war, and declared his resolution to attack the enemy in the morning. schomberg[ ] at first opposed his design, but, finding the king determined, he advised that a strong detachment of horse and foot should that night pass the boyne at slane bridge and take post between the enemy and the pass at duleck, that the action might be the more decisive; this counsel being rejected, the king determined that early in the morning lieutenant-general douglas with the right wing of the infantry, and young schomberg with the horse, should pass at slane bridge, while the main body of the foot should force their passage at old bridge, and the left at certain fords between the enemy's camp and drogheda. the duke, perceiving that his advice was not relished by the dutch generals, retired to his tent, where, the order of battle being brought to him, he received it with an air of discontent, saying it was the first that had ever been sent to him in that manner. the proper dispositions being made, william rode quite through the army by torchlight, and then retired to his tent after having given orders to his soldiers to distinguish themselves from the enemy by wearing green boughs in their hats during the action. [footnote : the duke of schomberg, who commanded for william, had accompanied him to england in . the duke is further spoken of below. "young schomberg" was his son.--ed.] at six o'clock in the morning, general douglas, with young schomberg, the earl of portland, and auverquerque, marched to slane bridge, and passed the river with very little opposition. when they reached the farther bank they perceived the enemy drawn up in two lines, to a considerable number of horse and foot, with a morass in their front, so that douglas was obliged to wait for reinforcements. this being arrived, the infantry was led on to the charge through the morass, while count schomberg rode round it with his cavalry, to attack the enemy in flank. the irish, instead of waiting the assault, faced about, and retreated toward duleck with some precipitation; yet not so fast but that schomberg fell in among their rear, and did considerable execution. king james, however, soon reënforced his left wing from the centre; and the count was in his turn obliged to send for assistance. at this juncture king william's main body, consisting of the dutch guards, the french regiments,[ ] and some battalions of english, passed the river, which was waist-high, under a general discharge of artillery. king james had imprudently removed his cannon from the other side; but he had posted a strong body of musketeers along the bank, behind hedges, houses, and some works raised for the occasion; these poured in a close fire on the english troops before they reached the shore; but it produced very little effect. then the irish gave way, and some battalions landed without further opposition; yet before they could form, they were charged with great impetuosity by a squadron of the enemy's horse, and a considerable body of their cavalry and foot, commanded by general hamilton, advanced from behind some little hillocks to attack those that were landed as well as to prevent the rest from reaching the shore; his infantry turned their backs and fled immediately; but the horse charged with incredible fury, both on the bank and in the river, so as to put the unformed regiments in confusion. [footnote : french protestants or huguenots.--ed.] then the duke of schomberg passed the river in person, put himself at the head of the french protestants, and pointing to the enemy, "gentlemen," said he, "those are your persecutors." with these words he advanced to the attack, where he himself sustained a violent onset from a party of the irish horse, which had broken through one of the regiments and were now on their return. they were mistaken for english, and allowed to gallop up to the duke, who received two severe wounds in the head; but the french troops, now sensible of their mistake, rashly threw in their fire on the irish while they were engaged with the duke, and, instead of saving, shot him dead on the spot. the death of this general had wellnigh proved fatal to the english army, which was immediately involved in tumult and disorder; while the infantry of king james rallied and returned to their posts with a face of resolution. they were just ready to fall on the centre when king william, having passed with the left wing, composed of the danish, dutch, and inniskillen horse, advanced to attack them on the right: they were struck with such a panic at his appearance that they made a sudden halt, and then facing about retreated to the village of dunmore. there they made such a vigorous stand that the dutch and danish horse, though headed by the king in person, recoiled; even the inniskillens gave way, and the whole wing would have been routed had not a detachment of dragoons, belonging to the regiment of cunningham and levison, dismounted and lined the hedges on each side of the ditch through which the fugitives were driven; there they did such execution on the pursuers as soon checked their ardor. the horse, which were broken, had now time to rally, and, returning to the charge, drove the enemy before them in their turn. in this action general hamilton, who had been the life and soul of the irish during the whole engagement, was wounded and taken, an incident which discouraged them to such a degree that they made no further efforts to retrieve the advantage they had lost. he was immediately brought to the king, who asked him if he thought the irish would make any further resistance, and he replied, "on my honor i believe they will, for they have still a good body of horse entire." william, eying him with a look of disdain, repeated, "your honor, your honor!" but took no other notice of his having acted contrary to his engagement, when he was permitted to go to ireland on promise of persuading tyrconnel to submit to the new government. the irish now abandoned the field with precipitation; but the french and swiss troops, that acted as their auxiliaries under de lauzun, retreated in good order, after having maintained the battle for some time with intrepidity and perseverance. as king william did not think proper to pursue the enemy, the carnage was not great; the irish lost a thousand five hundred men and the english about one-third of that number; though the victory was dearly purchased, considering the death of the gallant duke of schomberg, who fell, in the eighty-second year of his age, after having rivalled the best generals of that time in military reputation. he was the descendant of a noble family, in the palatinate, and his mother was an englishwoman, daughter of lord dudley. being obliged to leave his country on account of the troubles by which it was agitated, he commenced a soldier of fortune, and served successively in the armies of holland, england, france, portugal, and brandenburg; he attained to the dignity of mareschal in france, grandee in portugal, generalissimo in prussia, and duke in england. he professed the protestant religion; was courteous and humble in his deportment; cool, penetrating, resolute, and sagacious, nor was his probity inferior to his courage. this battle also proved fatal to the barve caillemote, who had followed the duke's fortunes, and commanded one of the protestant regiments. after having received a mortal wound, he was carried back through the river by four soldiers, and, though almost in the agonies of death, he, with a cheerful countenance, encouraged those who were crossing to do their duty, exclaiming, "_a la gloire, mes enfants, à la gloire!_" ("to glory, my lads, to glory!") the third remarkable person who lost his life on this occasion was walker, the clergyman, who had so valiantly defended londonderry against the whole army of king james; he had been very graciously received by king william, who gratified him with a reward of five thousand pounds and a promise of further favor; but, his military genius still predominating, he attended his royal patron in this battle, and, being shot, died in a few minutes. the persons of distinction who fell on the other side were the lords dongan and carlingford; sir neile o'neile and the marquis of hocquincourt. james, himself, stood aloof during the action on the hill of dunmore, surrounded with some squadrons of horse, and seeing victory declare against him retired to dublin without having made the least effort to reassemble his broken forces. had he possessed either spirit or conduct his army might have been rallied and reënforced from his garrisons, so as to be in a condition to keep the field and even to act on the offensive; for his loss was inconsiderable, and the victor did not attempt to molest his troops in their retreat, an omission which has been charged to him as a flagrant instance of misconduct. indeed, through the whole of this engagement william's personal courage was much more conspicuous than his military skill. %salem witchcraft trials% a.d. richard hildreth among the people of massachusetts during the century which saw the pilgrims seek religious liberty there, a delusion broke out which not only spread horror through the community and caused suffering and disgrace even in the most respectable families, but has baffled all later attempts at explanation. the witchcraft madness, as manifested there and elsewhere in the world, has remained alike the puzzle of history and the riddle of psychology. historically, witchcraft is classed with other occult phenomena or practices connected with supposed supernatural influences. the famous trials and executions for witchcraft which took place in and near salem, massachusetts, toward the end of the seventeenth century, owed their special prominence to their peculiar localization and environment. otherwise they might have been regarded as nothing more than incidents of a once general course in criminal procedure. thousands in europe had already suffered similar condemnation, and the last recorded execution for witchcraft in great britain did not occur till . even so late as a woman was imprisoned for this "crime" in scotland. hildreth's account skilfully condenses the essential matters relating to this strange episode in massachusetts history. * * * * * the practice of magic, sorcery, and spells, in the reality of which all ignorant communities have believed, had long been a criminal offence in england. a statute of the thirty-third year of henry viii made them capital felonies. another statute of the first year of james i, more specific in its terms, subjected to the same penalty all persons "invoking any evil spirit, or consulting, covenanting with, entertaining, employing, feeding, or rewarding any evil spirit, or taking up dead bodies from their graves to be used in any witchcraft, sorcery, charm, or enchantment, or killing or otherwise hurting any person by such infernal arts." that second solomon, before whom the illustrious bacon bowed with so much reverence, was himself a firm believer in witchcraft. he professed, indeed, to be an adept in the art of detecting witches, an art which became the subject of several learned treatises, one of them from james' own royal pen. during the commonwealth england had abounded with professional witch-detectors, who travelled from county to county, and occasioned the death of many unfortunate persons. the "fundamentals" of massachusetts contained a capital law against witchcraft, fortified by that express declaration of scripture, "thou shalt not suffer a witch to live." yet, among other evidences of departure from ancient landmarks, and of the propagation even to new england of a spirit of doubt, were growing suspicions as to the reality of that everyday supernaturalism which formed so prominent a feature of the puritan theology. the zeal of increase mather against this rising incredulity had engaged him, while the old charter was still in existence, to publish a book of _remarkable providences_, in which were enumerated, among other things, all the supposed cases of witchcraft which had hitherto occurred in new england, with arguments to prove their reality. what at that time had given the matter additional interest was the case of a bewitched or haunted house at newbury. an intelligent neighbor, who had suggested that a mischievous grandson of the occupant might perhaps be at the bottom of the mystery, was himself accused of witchcraft and narrowly escaped. a witch, however, the credulous townspeople were resolved to find, and they presently fixed upon the wife of the occupant as the culprit. seventeen persons testified to mishaps experienced in the course of their lives, which they charitably chose to ascribe to the ill-will and diabolical practices of this unfortunate old woman. on this evidence she was found guilty by the jury; but the magistrates, more enlightened, declined to order her execution. the deputies thereupon raised a loud complaint at this delay of justice. but the firmness of governor bradstreet, supported as he was by the moderate party, and the abrogation of the charter which speedily followed, saved the woman's life. this same struggle of opinion existed also in the mother-country, where the rising sect of "freethinkers" began to deny and deride all diabolical agencies. nor was this view confined to professed freethinkers. the latitudinarian party in the church, a rapidly growing body, leaned perceptibly the same way. the "serious ministers," on the other hand, led by richard baxter, their acknowledged head, defended with zeal the reality of witchcraft and the personality and agency of the devil, to deny which they denounced as little short of atheism. they supported their opinions by the authority of sir matthew hale, lord chief justice of england, as distinguished for piety as for knowledge of the law, under whose instructions two alleged witches, at whose trials he had presided shortly after the restoration, had been found guilty and executed. the accounts of those trials, published in england on occasion of this controversy and republished at boston, had tended to confirm the popular belief. the doubts by which mather had been alarmed were yet confined to a few thinking men. read with a forward and zealous faith, these stories did not fail to make a deep impression on the popular imagination. while andros was still governor, shortly after increase mather's departure for england, four young children, members of a pious family in boston, the eldest a girl of thirteen, the youngest a boy not five, had begun to behave in a singular manner, barking like dogs, purring like cats, seeming to become deaf, blind, or dumb, having their limbs strangely distorted, complaining that they were pinched, pricked, pulled, or cut--acting out, in fact, the effects of witchcraft, according to the current notions of it and the descriptions in the books above referred to. the terrified father called in dr. oakes, a zealous leader of the ultra-theocratic party--presently sent to england as joint agent with mather--who gave his opinion that the children were bewitched. the oldest girl had lately received a bitter scolding from an old irish indented servant, whose daughter she had accused of theft. this same old woman, from indications no doubt given by the children, was soon fixed upon as being the witch. the four ministers of boston and another from charlestown having kept a day of fasting and prayer at the troubled house, the youngest child was relieved. but the others, more persevering and more artful, continuing as before, the old woman was presently arrested and charged with bewitching them. she had for a long time been reputed a witch, and she even seems to have flattered herself that she was one. indeed, her answers were so "senseless" that the magistrates referred it to the doctors to say if she were not "crazed in her intellects." on their report of her sanity, the old woman was tried, found guilty, and executed. though increase mather was absent on this interesting occasion, he had a zealous representative in his son, cotton mather, by the mother's side grandson of the "great cotton," a young minister of twenty-five, a prodigy of learning, eloquence, and piety, recently settled as colleague with his father over boston north church. cotton mather had an extraordinary memory, stuffed with all sorts of learning. his application was equal to that of a german professor. his lively imagination, trained in the school of puritan theology, and nourished on the traditionary legends of new england, of which he was a voracious and indiscriminate collector, was still further stimulated by fasts, vigils, prayers, and meditations almost equal to those of any catholic saint. of a temperament ambitious and active, he was inflamed with a great desire of "doing good." fully conscious of all his gifts, and not a little vain of them, like the jesuit missionaries in canada, his contemporaries, he believed himself to be often, during his devotional exercises, in direct and personal communication with the deity. in every piece of good-fortune he saw a special answer to his prayers; in every mortification or calamity, the special personal malice of the devil and his agents. yet both himself and his father were occasionally troubled with "temptations to atheism," doubts which they did not hesitate to ascribe to diabolical influence. the secret consciousness of these doubts of their own was perhaps one source of their great impatience at the doubts of others. cotton mather had taken a very active part in the late case of witchcraft; and, that he might study the operations of diabolical agency at his leisure, and thus be furnished with evidence and arguments to establish its reality, he took the eldest of the bewitched children home to his own house. his eagerness to believe invited imposture. his excessive vanity and strong prejudices made him easy game. adroit and artful beyond her years, the girl fooled him to the top of his bent. his ready pen was soon furnished with materials for "a story all made up of wonders," which, with some other matters of the same sort, and a sermon preached on the occasion, he presently published, under the title of _memorable providences relating to witchcrafts and possessions_, with a preface in which he warned all "sadducees" that he should regard their doubts for the future as a personal insult. cotton mather was not the only dupe. "the old heresy of the sensual sadducees, denying the being of angels either good or evil," says the recommendatory preface to this book, signed by the other four ministers of boston, "died not with them, nor will it, whilst men, abandoning both faith and reason, count it their wisdom to credit nothing but what they see or feel. how much this fond opinion hath gotten ground in this debauched age is awfully observable; and what a dangerous stroke it gives to settle men in atheism is not hard to discern. god is therefore pleased, besides the witness borne to this truth in sacred writ, to suffer devils sometimes to do such things in the world as shall stop the mouths of gainsayers, and extort a confession from them." they add their testimony to the truth of mather's statements, which they commend as furnishing "clear information" that there is "both a god and a devil, and witchcraft." the book was presently republished in london, with a preface by baxter, who pronounced the girl's case so "convincing" that "he must be a very obdurate sadducee who would not believe it." mather's sermon, prefixed to this narrative, is a curious specimen of fanatical declamation. "witchcraft," he exclaims, "is a renouncing of god, and the advancement of a filthy devil into the throne of the most high. witchcraft is a renouncing of christ, and preferring the communion of a loathsome, lying devil before all the salvation of the lord redeemer. witchcraft is a siding with hell against heaven and earth, and therefore a witch is not to be endured in either of them. 'tis a capital crime, and is to be prosecuted as a species of devilism that would not only deprive god and christ of all his honor, but also plunder man of all his comfort. nothing too vile can be said of, nothing too hard can be done to, such a horrible iniquity as witchcraft is!" such declamations from such a source, giving voice and authority to the popular superstition, prepared the way for the tragedy that followed. the suggestion, however, that cotton mather, for purposes of his own, deliberately got up this witchcraft delusion, and forced it upon a doubtful and hesitating people, is utterly absurd. and so is another suggestion, a striking exhibition of partisan extravagance, that because the case of the four boston children happened during the government of andros, therefore the responsibility of that affair rests on him, and not on the people of massachusetts. the irish woman was tried under a massachusetts law, and convicted by a massachusetts jury; and, had andros interfered to save her life, to the other charges against him would doubtless have been added that of friendship for witches. cotton mather seems to have acted, in a degree, the part of a demagogue. yet he is not to be classed with those tricky and dishonest men, so common in our times, who play upon popular prejudices which they do not share, in the expectation of being elevated to honors and office. mather's position, convictions, and temperament alike called him to serve on this occasion as the organ, exponent, and stimulator of the popular faith. the bewitched girl, as she ceased to be an object of popular attention, seems to have returned to her former behavior. but the seed had been sown on fruitful ground. after an interval of nearly four years, three young girls in the family of parris, minister of salem village, now danvers, began to exhibit similar pranks. as in the boston case, a physician pronounced them bewitched, and tituba, an old indian woman, the servant of parris, who undertook, by some vulgar rites, to discover the witch, was rewarded by the girls with the accusation of being herself the cause of their sufferings. the neighboring ministers assembled at the house of parris for fasting and prayer. the village fasted; and presently a general fast was ordered throughout the colony. the "bewitched children," thus rendered objects of universal sympathy and attention, did not long want imitators. several other girls and two or three women of the neighborhood began to be afflicted in the same way, as did also john, the indian husband of tituba, warned, it would seem, by the fate of his wife. parris took a very active part in discovering the witches; so did noyes, minister of salem, described as "a learned, a charitable, and a good man." a town committee was soon formed for the detection of the witches. two of the magistrates, resident at salem, entered with great zeal into the matter. the accusations, confined at first to tituba and two other friendless women, one crazed, the other bedrid, presently included two female members of parris' church, in which, as in so many other churches, there had been some sharp dissensions. the next sunday after this accusation parris preached from the verse, "have i not chosen you twelve, and one is a devil?" at the announcement of this text the sister of one of the accused women rose and left the meeting-house. she, too, was accused immediately after, and the same fate soon overtook all who showed the least disposition to resist the prevailing delusion. the matter had now assumed so much importance that the deputy-governor--for the provisional government was still in operation--proceeded to salem village, with five other magistrates, and held a court in the meeting-house. a great crowd was present. parris acted at once as clerk and accuser, producing the witnesses, and taking down the testimony. the accused were held with their arms extended and hands open, lest by the least motion of their fingers they might inflict torments on their victims, who sometimes affected to be struck dumb, and at others to be knocked down by the mere glance of an eye. they were haunted, they said, by the spectres of the accused, who tendered them a book, and solicited them to subscribe a league with the devil; and when they refused, would bite, pinch, scratch, choke, burn, twist, prick, pull, and otherwise torment them. at the mere sight of the accused brought into court, "the afflicted" would seem to be seized with a fit of these torments, from which, however, they experienced instant relief when the accused were compelled to touch them--infallible proof to the minds of the gaping assembly that these apparent sufferings were real and the accusations true. the theory was that the touch conveyed back into the witch the malignant humors shot forth from her eyes; and learned references were even made to descartes, of whose new philosophy some rumors had reached new england, in support of this theory. in the examinations at salem village meeting-house some very extraordinary scenes occurred. "look there!" cried one of the afflicted; "there is goody procter on the beam!" this goody procter's husband, notwithstanding the accusation against her, still took her side, and had attended her to the court; in consequence of which act of fidelity some of "the afflicted" began now to cry out that he too was a wizard. at the exclamation above cited, "many, if not all, the bewitched had grievous fits." question by the court: "ann putnam, who hurts you?" answer: "goodman procter, and his wife, too." then some of the afflicted cry out, "there is procter going to take up mrs. pope's feet!" and "immediately her feet are taken up." question by the court: "what do you say, goodman procter, to these things?" answer: "i know not: i am innocent." abigail williams, another of the afflicted, cries out, "there is goodman procter going to mrs. pope!" and "immediately said pope falls into a fit." a magistrate to procter: "you see the devil will deceive you; the children," so all the afflicted were called, "could see what you were going to do before the woman was hurt. i would advise you to repentance, for you see the devil is bringing you out." abigail williams cries out again, "there is goodman procter going to hurt goody bibber!" and "immediately goody bibber falls into a fit." abigail williams and ann putnam both "made offer to strike at elizabeth procter; but when abigail's hand came near, it opened, whereas it was made up into a fist before, and came down exceedingly lightly as it drew near to said procter, and at length, with open and extended fingers, touched procter's hood very lightly; and immediately abigail cries out, 'my fingers, my fingers, my fingers burn!' and ann putnam takes on most grievously of her head, and sinks down." such was the evidence upon which people were believed to be witches, and committed to prison to be tried for their lives! yet, let us not hurry too much to triumph over the past. in these days of animal magnetism, have we not ourselves seen imposture as gross, and even in respectable quarters a headlong credulity just as precipitate? we must consider also that the judgments of our ancestors were disturbed, not only by wonder, but by fear. encouraged by the ready belief of the magistrates and the public, "the afflicted" went on enlarging the circle of their accusations, which presently seemed to derive fresh corroboration from the confessions of some of the accused. tituba had been flogged into a confession; others yielded to a pressure more stringent than blows. weak women, astonished at the charges and contortions of their accusers, assured that they were witches beyond all doubt, and urged to confess as the only possible chance for their lives, were easily prevailed upon to repeat any tales put into their mouths: their journeys through the air on broomsticks to attend witch sacraments--a sort of travesty on the christian ordinance--at which the devil appeared in the shape of a "small black man"; their signing the devil's book, renouncing their former baptism, and being baptized anew by the devil, who "dipped" them in "wenham pond," after the anabaptist fashion. called upon to tell who were present at these sacraments, the confessing witches wound up with new accusations; and by the time phipps arrived in the colony, near a hundred persons were already in prison. the mischief was not limited to salem. an idea had been taken up that the bewitched could explain the causes of sickness; and one of them, carried to andover for that purpose, had accused many persons of witchcraft, and thrown the whole village into the greatest commotion. some persons also had been accused in boston and other towns. it was one of governor phipps' first official acts to order all the prisoners into irons. this restraint upon their motions might impede them, it was hoped, in tormenting the afflicted. without waiting for the meeting of the general court, to whom that authority properly belonged, phipps hastened, by advice of his counsel, to organize a special court for the trial of the witches. stoughton, the lieutenant-governor, was appointed president; but his cold and hard temper, his theological education, and unyielding bigotry were ill qualifications for such an office. his associates, six in number, were chiefly boston men, possessing a high reputation for wisdom and piety, among them richards, the late agent, wait winthrop, brother of fitz-john winthrop, and grandson of the former governor, and samuel sewell, the two latter subsequently, in turn, chief-justices of the province. the new court, thus organized, proceeded to salem, and commenced operations by the trial of an old woman who had long enjoyed the reputation of being a witch. besides "spectral evidence," that is, the tales of the afflicted, a jury of women, appointed to make an examination, found upon her a wart or excrescence, adjudged to be "a devil's teat." a number of old stories were also raked up of dead hens and foundered cattle and carts upset, ascribed by the neighbors to her incantations. on this evidence she was brought in guilty, and hanged a few days after, when the court took an adjournment to the end of the month. the first general court under the new charter met meanwhile, and increase mather, who had returned in company with phipps, gave an account of his agency. from a house not well pleased with the loss of the old charter he obtained a reluctant vote of thanks, but he received no compensation for four years' expenses, which had pressed very heavily upon his narrow income. after passing a temporary act for continuing in force all the old laws, among others the capital law against witchcraft, an adjournment was had, without any objection or even reference, so far as appears, to the special court for the trial of the witches, which surely would have raised a great outcry had it been established for any unpopular purpose. according to a favorite practice of the old government, now put in use for the last time, phipps requested the advice of the elders as to the proceedings against the witches. the reply, drawn up by the hand of cotton mather, acknowledges with thankfulness "the success which the merciful god has given to the sedulous and assiduous endeavors of our honorable rulers to defeat the abominable witchcrafts which have been committed in the country, humbly praying that the discovery of those mysterious and mischievous wickednesses may be perfected." it advises, however, "critical and exquisite caution" in relying too much on "the devil's authority," that is, on spectral evidence, or "apparent changes wrought in the afflicted by the presence of the accused"; neither of which, in the opinion of the ministers, could be trusted as infallible proof. yet it was almost entirely on this sort of evidence that all the subsequent convictions were had. stoughton, unfortunately, had espoused the opinion--certainly a plausible one--that it was impossible for the devil to assume the appearance of an innocent man, or for persons not witches to be spectrally seen at witches' meetings; and some of the confessing witches were prompt to flatter the chief justice's vanity by confirming a doctrine so apt for their purposes. at the second session of the special court five women were tried and convicted. the others were easily disposed of; but in the case of rebecca nurse, one of parris' church-members, a woman hitherto of unimpeachable character, the jury at first gave a verdict of acquittal. at the announcement of this verdict "the afflicted" raised a great clamor. the "honored court" called the jury's attention to an exclamation of the prisoner during the trial, expressive of surprise at seeing among the witnesses two of her late fellow-prisoners: "why do these testify against me? they used to come among us!" these two witnesses had turned confessors, and these words were construed by the court as confirming their testimony of having met the prisoner at witches' meetings. the unhappy woman, partially deaf, listened to this colloquy in silence. thus pressed by the court, and hearing no reply from the prisoner, the jury changed their verdict and pronounced her guilty. the explanations subsequently offered in her behalf were disregarded. the governor, indeed, granted a reprieve, but the salem committee procured its recall, and the unhappy woman, taken in chains to the meeting-house, was solemnly excommunicated, and presently hanged with the others. at the third session of the court six prisoners were tried and convicted, all of whom were presently hanged except elizabeth procter, whose pregnancy was pleaded in delay. her true and faithful husband, in spite of a letter to the boston ministers, denouncing the falsehood of the witnesses, complaining that confessions had been extorted by torture, and begging for a trial at boston or before other judges, was found guilty, and suffered with the rest. another of this unfortunate company was john willard, employed as an officer to arrest the accused, but whose imprudent expression of some doubts on the subject had caused him to be accused also. he had fled, but was pursued and taken, and was now tried and executed. his behavior, and that of procter, at the place of execution, made, however, a deep impression on many minds. a still more remarkable case was that of george burroughs, a minister whom the incursions of the eastern indians had lately driven from saco back to salem village, where he had formerly preached, and where he now found among his former parishioners enemies more implacable even than the indians. it was the misfortune of burroughs to have many enemies, in part, perhaps, by his own fault. encouragement was thus found to accuse him. some of the witnesses had seen him at witches' meetings; others had seen the apparitions of his dead wives, which accused him of cruelty. these witnesses, with great symptoms of horror and alarm, even pretended to see these dead wives again appearing to them in open court. though small of size, burroughs was remarkably strong, instances of which were given in proof that the devil helped him. stoughton treated him with cruel insolence, and did his best to confuse and confound him. what insured his condemnation was a paper he handed to the jury, an extract from some author, denying the possibility of witchcraft. burroughs' speech from the gallows affected many, especially the fluent fervency of his prayers, concluding with the lord's prayer, which no witch, it was thought, could repeat correctly. several, indeed, had been already detected by some slight error or mispronunciation in attempting it. the impression, however, which burroughs might have produced was neutralized by cotton mather, who appeared on horseback among the crowd, and took occasion to remind the people that burroughs, though a preacher, was no "ordained" minister, and that the devil would sometimes assume even the garb of an angel of light. at a fourth session of the court six women were tried and found guilty. at another session shortly after, eight women and one man were convicted, all of whom received sentence of death. an old man of eighty, who refused to plead, was pressed to death--a barbarous infliction prescribed by the common law for such cases. ever since the trials began, it had been evident that confession was the only avenue to safety. several of those now found guilty confessed and were reprieved; but samuel woodwell, having retracted his confession, along with seven others who persisted in their innocence, was sent to execution. "the afflicted" numbered by this time about fifty; fifty-five had confessed themselves witches and turned accusers; twenty persons had already suffered death; eight more were under sentence; the jails were full of prisoners, and new accusations were added every day. such was the state of things when the court adjourned to the first monday in november. cotton mather employed this interval in preparing his _wonders of the invisible world_, containing an exulting account of the late trials, giving full credit to the statements of the afflicted and the confessors, and vaunting the good effects of the late executions in "the strange deliverance of some that had lain for many years in a most sad condition, under they knew not what evil hand." while the witch trials were going on, the governor had hastened to pemaquid, and in accordance with instructions brought with him from england, though at an expense to the province which caused loud complaints, had built there a strong stone fort. colonel church had been employed, in the mean time, with four hundred men, in scouring the shores of the penobscot and the banks of the kennebec. notwithstanding some slight cautions about trusting too much to spectral evidence, mather's book, which professed to be published at the special request of the governor, was evidently intended to stimulate to further proceedings. but, before its publication, the reign of terror had already reached such a height as to commence working its own cure. the accusers, grown bold with success, had begun to implicate persons whose character and condition had seemed to place them beyond the possibility of assault. even "the generation of the children of god" were in danger. one of the andover ministers had been implicated; but two of the confessing witches came to his rescue by declaring that they had surreptitiously carried his shape to a witches' meeting, in order to create a belief that he was there. hale, minister of beverly, had been very active against the witches; but when his own wife was charged, he began to hesitate. a son of governor bradstreet, a magistrate of andover, having refused to issue any more warrants, was himself accused, and his brother soon after, on the charge of bewitching a dog. both were obliged to fly for their lives. several prisoners, by the favor of friends, escaped to rhode island, but, finding themselves in danger there, fled to new york, where governor fletcher gave them protection. their property was seized as forfeited by their flight. lady phipps, applied to in her husband's absence on behalf of an unfortunate prisoner, issued a warrant to the jailer in her own name, and had thus, rather irregularly, procured his discharge. some of the accusers, it is said, began to throw out insinuations even against her. the extraordinary proceedings on the commitments and trials; the determination of the magistrates to overlook the most obvious falsehoods and contradictions on the part of the afflicted and the confessors, under pretence that the devil took away their memories and imposed upon their brain, while yet reliance was placed on their testimony to convict the accused; the partiality exhibited in omitting to take any notice of certain accusations; the violent means employed to obtain confessions, amounting sometimes to positive torture; the total disregard of retractions made voluntarily, and even at the hazard of life--all these circumstances had impressed the attention of the more rational part of the community; and, in this crisis of danger and alarm, the meeting of the general court was most anxiously awaited. when that body assembled, a remonstrance came in from andover against the condemnation of persons of good fame on the testimony of children and others "under diabolical influences." what action was taken on this remonstrance does not appear. the court was chiefly occupied in the passage of a number of acts, embodying some of the chief points of the old civil and criminal laws of the colony. the capital punishment of witchcraft was specially provided for in the very terms of the english act of parliament. heresy and blasphemy were also continued as capital offences. by the organization of the superior court under the charter, the special commission for the trial of witches was superseded. but of this superior court stoughton was appointed chief justice, and three of his four colleagues had sat with him in the special court. there is no evidence that these judges had undergone any change of opinion; but when the new court proceeded to hold a special term at salem for the continuation of the witch trials a decided alteration in public feeling became apparent. six women of andover renounced their confessions, and sent in a memorial to that effect. of fifty-six indictments laid before the grand jury, only twenty-six were returned true bills. of the persons tried, three only were found guilty. several others were acquitted, the first instances of the sort since the trials began. the court then proceeded to charlestown, where many were in prison on the same charge. the case of a woman who for twenty or thirty years had been reputed a witch, was selected for trial. many witnesses testified against her; but the spectral evidence had fallen into total discredit, and was not used. though as strong a case was made out as any at salem, the woman was acquitted, with her daughter, granddaughter, and several others. news presently came of a reprieve for those under sentence of death at salem, at which stoughton was so enraged that he left the bench, exclaiming, "who it is that obstructs the course of justice i know not; the lord be merciful to the country!" nor did he again take his seat during that term. at the first session of the superior court at boston the grand jury, though sent out to reconsider the matter, refused to find a bill even against a confessing witch. the idea was already prevalent that some great mistakes had been committed at salem. the reality of witchcraft was still insisted upon as zealously as ever, but the impression was strong that the devil had used "the afflicted" as his instruments to occasion the shedding of innocent blood. on behalf of the ministers, increase mather came out with his _cases of conscience concerning witchcraft_, in which, while he argued with great learning that spectral evidence was not infallible, and that the devil might assume the shape of an innocent man, he yet strenuously maintained as sufficient proof confession, or "the speaking such words or the doing such things as none but such as have familiarity with the devil ever did or can do." as to such as falsely confessed themselves witches, and were hanged in consequence, mather thought that was no more than they deserved. king william's veto on the witchcraft act prevented any further trials; and presently, by phipps' order, all the prisoners were discharged. to a similar veto massachusetts owes it that heresy and blasphemy ceased to appear as capital crimes on her statute-book. the mathers gave still further proof of faith unshaken by discovering an afflicted damsel in boston, whom they visited and prayed with, and of whose case cotton mather wrote an account circulated in manuscript. this damsel, however, had the discretion to accuse nobody, the spectres that beset her being all veiled. reason and common-sense at last found an advocate in robert calef, a citizen of boston, sneered at by cotton mather as "a weaver who pretended to be a merchant." and afterward, when he grew more angry, as "a coal sent from hell" to blacken his character--a man, however, of sound intelligence and courageous spirit. calef wrote an account, also handed about in manuscript, of what had been said and done during a visitation of the mathers to this afflicted damsel, an exposure of her imposture and their credulity, which so nettled cotton mather that he commenced a prosecution for slander against calef, which, however, he soon saw reason to drop. calef then addressed a series of letters to mather and the other boston ministers, in which he denied and ridiculed the reality of any such compacts with the devil as were commonly believed in under the name of witchcraft. the witchcraft spoken of in the bible meant no more, he maintained, than "hatred or opposition to the word and worship of god, and seeking to seduce therefrom by some sign"--a definition which he had found in some english writer on the subject, and which he fortified by divers texts. it was, perhaps, to furnish materials for a reply to calef that a circular from harvard college, signed by increase mather as president, and by all the neighboring ministers as fellows, invited reports of "apparitions, possessions, enchantments, and all extraordinary things, wherein the existence and agency of the invisible world is more sensibly demonstrated," to be used "as some fit assembly of ministers might direct." but the "invisible world" was fast ceasing to be visible, and cotton mather laments that in ten years scarce five returns were received to this circular. yet the idea of some supernatural visitation at salem was but very slowly relinquished, being still persisted in even by those penitent actors in the scene who confessed and lamented their own delusion and blood-guiltiness. such were sewell, one of the judges; noyes, one of the most active prosecutors; and several of the jurymen who had sat on the trials. the witnesses upon whose testimony so many innocent persons had suffered were never called to any account. when calef's letters were presently published in london, together with his account of the supposed witchcraft, the book was burned in the college yard at cambridge by order of increase mather. the members of the boston north church came out also with a pamphlet in defence of their pastors. hale, minister of beverly, in his _modest inquiry into the nature of witchcraft_, and cotton mather, in his _magnalia_, though they admit there had been "a going too far" in the affair at salem, are yet still as strenuous as ever for the reality of witchcraft. nor were they without support from abroad. dr. watts, then one of the chief leaders of the english dissenters, wrote to cotton mather, "i am persuaded there was much agency of the devil in those affairs, and perhaps there were some real witches, too." twenty years elapsed before the heirs of the victims, and those who had been obliged to fly for their lives, obtained some partial indemnity for their pecuniary losses. stoughton and cotton mather, though they never expressed the least regret or contrition for their part in the affair, still maintained their places in the public estimation. just as the trials were concluded, stoughton, though he held the king's commission as lieutenant-governor, was chosen a counsellor--a mark of confidence which the theocratic majority did not choose to extend to several of the moderate party named in the original appointment--and to this post he was annually reëlected as long as he lived; while moody, because he had favored the escape of some of the accused, found it necessary to resign his pastorship of the first church of boston, and to return again to portsmouth. yet we need less wonder at the pertinacity with which this delusion was adhered to, when we find addison arguing for the reality of witchcraft at the same time that he refuses to believe in any modern instance of it; and even blackstone, half a century after, gravely declaring that "to deny the possibility, nay, actual existence of witchcraft and sorcery, is at once flatly to contradict the revealed word of god in various passages both of the old and new testament." %establishment of the bank of england% a.d. john francis not only did the establishment of the bank of england meet the demands of public exigency at the time; it also created an institution which was to become vitally important in the expanding life of the nation. this custodian of the public money and manager of the public debt of great britain is now the largest bank in the world. the only other financial institution that could show an equal record of long stability was the bank of amsterdam, which existed from to . the national debt of england began in , when william iii, in order to carry on the war against france, resorted to a system of loans. this debt, however, was not intended to be permanent; but when the bank of england was established, the contracting of a permanent debt began. its advantages and disadvantages to england have been discussed by many theorists and financial authorities. but of the extraordinary service rendered to great britain by the far-seeing scotchman, william paterson, originator of the plan of the bank of england, there is no question, although, as francis shows, the project at first met with opposition from many quarters. the important position assumed by england, toward the middle of the seventeenth century, renders the absence of a national bank somewhat surprising. under the sagacious government of cromwell the nation had increased in commercial and political greatness; and although several projects were issued for banks, one of which was to have branches in every important town throughout the country, yet, a necessity for their formation not being absolutely felt, the proposals were dismissed. during the protectorate, however, parliament, taking into consideration the rate of interest, which was higher in england than abroad, and that the trade was thereby rendered comparatively disadvantageous to the english merchant, reduced the legal rate from to per cent., and this measure, although it had been carried by the parliament of cromwell, almost every act of which proved odious in the eyes of the stuarts, was nevertheless confirmed by the legislature of charles ii. in the payment of interest had been rendered legal, and fixed at per cent. in the rate had been reduced to per cent.; and with the advance of commercial prosperity it had been found advisable to lower it still further. there were many reasons for the establishment of a national bank. it was necessary for the sake of a secure paper currency. it was required for the support of the national credit. it was desirable as a method of reducing the rate of interest paid by the state; a rate so high that, according to anderson, men were induced to take their money out of trade, for the sake of securing it; an operation "big with mischief." the truth is that the times required it. the theorist may prove to demonstration the perfection of his theory; the speculator may show the certainty of its success: but unless it be a necessity called for by the onward progress of society, it must eventually fall to the ground. that the want of such an establishment was felt is certain. but while such firms as childs--the books of whom go back to the year , and refer to prior documents; hoares, dating from ; and snows, from --were able to assist the public demand, although at the exorbitant interest of the period, it does not occasion so much surprise that the attempt made to meet the increasing requirements of trade proved insufficient. in , sixteen years previous to the foundation of the bank of england, "proposals for a large model of a bank" were published; and, in a "national bank of credit" was brought forward. in a rare pamphlet entitled _bank credit; or the usefullness and security of the bank of credit, examined in a dialogue between a country gentleman and a london merchant_, this idea is warmly defended. it was, however, simply to have one of credit, nor was it proposed to form a bank of deposit; although, by the following remark of the "country gentleman," it is evident that such an establishment on a secure scale was desirable. he says: "could they not without damage to themselves have secured the running cash of the nobility, gentry, merchants, and the traders of the city and kingdom, from all hazard, which would have been a great benefit to all concerned, who know not where to deposit their cash securely?" after much trouble this bank of credit was established at devonshire house, in bishopsgate street; its object, as we have related, being principally to advance money to tradesmen and manufacturers on the security of goods. three-fourths of the value was lent on these, and bills for their amount given to the depositor. in order to render them current, an appointed number of persons in each trade was formed into a society to regulate commercial concerns. any individual possessed of such bills might therefore obtain from this company goods or merchandise with as much ease as if he offered current coin. the bank of credit does not appear to have flourished. the machinery was too complicated, and the risk of depreciation and the value of manufactures too great. it was next to impossible for such a company to exist after the bank of england came with its low discount and free accommodations. the wild spirit of speculation--that spirit which at various periods has created fearful crises in the commercial world--commenced in . the fever which from time to time has flushed the mind of the moneyed man, and given a fierce excitement to the almost penniless adventurer, was then and in the following year in full operation. the great south sea scheme in is ordinarily considered the earliest display of this reckless spirit. but a quarter of a century before, equal ingenuity and equal villany were exercised. obscure men, whose sole capital was their enormous impudence, invented similar schemes, promised similar advantages, and used similar arts to entice the capitalists, which were employed with so much success at a later period. the want of a great banking association was sure to be made a pretext. two "land banks," and a "london bank" to be managed by the magistrates, with several other proposals, were therefore put promisingly forward. one of these was for another "bank of credit"; and a pamphlet published in , under the title of _england's glory_, will give some idea of its nature: "if a person desires money to be returned at coventry or york he pays it at the office in london, and receives a bill of credit after their form written upon marble paper, indenturewise, or on other as may be contrived to prevent counterfeiting." it was also proposed that the government should share the profits; but neither of the projects was carried out. the people neglected their calling. the legitimate desire of money grew into a fierce and fatal spirit of avarice. the arts so common at a later day were had recourse to. project begat project, copper was to be turned into brass. fortunes were to be realized by lotteries. the sea was to yield the treasures it had engulfed. pearl-fisheries were to pay impossible percentages. "lottery on lottery," says a writer of the day, "engine on engine, multiplied wonderfully. if any person got considerably by a happy and useful invention, others followed in spite of the patent, and published printed proposals, filling the daily newspapers therewith, thus going on to jostle one another, and abuse the credulity of the people." amid the many delusive and impracticable schemes were two important projects which have conferred great benefits on the english people. the first of these was the new river company, the conception of sir hugh middleton; the second was the corporation of the bank of england. nature and the great nations of antiquity suggested the former; the force and pressure of the times demanded the latter. it is from such demands that our chief institutions arise. by precept we may be taught their propriety; by example we may see their advantages. but until the necessity is personally felt they are sure to be neglected; and men wonder at their want of prescience and upbraid their shortsightedness when, with a sudden and sometimes startling success, the proposal they have slighted arises through the energy of another. william paterson, one of those men whose capacity is measured by failure or success, was the originator of the new bank; and it is perhaps unfortunate for his fame that no biography exists of this remarkable person. as the projector of the present bank of scotland, as the very soul of the celebrated darien company, and as the founder of the bank of england, he deserves notice. a speculator as well as an adventurous man, he proved his belief in the practicability of the darien scheme by accompanying that unfortunate expedition; and the formation of the bank of england was the object of his desires and the subject of his thoughts for a long time previous to its establishment. from that political change which had been so justly termed the "great revolution," to the establishment of the bank of england, the new government had been in constant difficulties; and the ministerial mode of procuring money was degrading to a great people. the duties in support of the war waged for liberty and protestantism were required before they were levied. the city corporation was usually applied to for an advance; interest which varied probably according to the necessity of the borrower rather than to the real value of cash, was paid for the accommodation. the officers of the city went round in their turn to the separate wards, and borrowed in smaller amounts the money they had advanced to the state. interest and premiums were thus often paid to the extent of and even per cent., in proportion to the exigency of the case, and the trader found his pocket filled at the expense of the public. mr. paterson gives a graphic description: "the erection of this famous bank not only relieved the ministerial managers from their frequent processions into the city, for borrowing of money on the best and nearest public securities, at or per cent. per annum, but likewise gave life and currency to double or treble the value of its capital in other branches of the public credit, and so, under god, became the principal means of the success of the campaign in ; as, particularly, in reducing the important fortress of namur, the first material step toward the peace concluded in ." to remedy this evil the bank of england was projected; and after much labor, william paterson, aided by mr. michael godfrey, procured from government a consideration of the proposal. the king was abroad when the scheme was laid before the council, but the queen occupied his place. here considerable opposition occurred. paterson found it more difficult to procure consent than he anticipated, and all those who feared an invasion of their interests united to stop its progress. the goldsmith foresaw the destruction of his monopoly, and he opposed it from self-interest. the tory foresaw an easier mode of gaining money for the government he abhorred, with a firmer hold on the people for the monarch he despised, and his antagonism bore all the energy of political partisanship. the usurer foresaw the destruction of his oppressive extortion, and he resisted it with the vigor of his craft. the rich man foresaw his profits diminished on government contracts, and he vehemently and virtuously opposed it on all public principles. loud therefore were the outcries and great the exertions of all parties when the bill was first introduced to the house of commons. but outcries are vain and exertions futile in opposition to a dominant and powerful party. a majority had been secured for the measure; and they who opposed its progress covered their defeat with vehement denunciations and vague prophecies. the prophets are in their graves, and their predictions only survive in the history of that establishment the downfall of which they proclaimed. "the scheme of a national bank," says smollett, "had been recommended to the ministry for the credit and security of the government and the increase of trade and circulation. william paterson was author of that which was carried into execution. when it was properly digested in the cabinet, and a majority in parliament secured, it was introduced into the house of commons. the supporters said it would rescue the nation out of the hands of extortioners; lower interest; raise the value of land; revive public credit; extend circulation; improve commerce; facilitate the annual supplies; and connect the people more closely with government. the project was violently opposed by a strong party, who affirmed that it would become a monopoly, and engross the whole of the kingdom; that it might be employed to the worst purposes of arbitrary power; that it would weaken commerce by tempting people to withdraw their money from trade; that brokers and jobbers would prey on their fellow-creatures; encourage fraud and gambling; and corrupt the morals of the nation." previous governments had raised money with comparative ease because they were legitimate. that of william was felt to be precarious. it was feared by the money-lender that a similar convulsion to the one which had borne him so easily to the throne of a great nation might waft him back to the shores of that holland he so dearly loved. thus the very circumstances which made supplies necessary also made them scarce. in addition to these things his person was unpopular. his phlegmatic dutch habits contrasted unfavorably with those of the graceful stuarts, whose evil qualities were forgotten in the remembrance of their showy characteristics. neither his dutch followers nor his dutch manners were regarded with favor; and had it not been for his eminently kingly capacity, these things would have proved as dangerous to the throne as they tended to make the sovereign unpopular. in a pamphlet published a few years after the establishment of the new corporation is the following vivid picture of this monarch's government: "in spite of the most glorious prince and most vigilant general the world has ever seen, yet the enemy gained upon us every year; the funds were run down, the credit jobbed away in change alley, the king and his troops devoured by mechanics, and sold to usury, tallies lay bundled up like bath fagots in the hands of brokers and stock-jobbers; the parliament gave taxes, levied funds, but the loans were at the mercy of those men (the jobbers); and they showed their mercy, indeed, by devouring the king and the army, the parliament, and indeed the whole nation; bringing their great prince sometimes to that exigence through inexpressible extortions that were put upon him, that he has even gone into the fields without his equipage, nay even without his army; the regiments have been unclothed when the king had been in the field, and the willing, brave english spirits, eager to honor their country, and follow such a king, have marched even to battle without either stockings or shoes, while his servants have been every day working in exchange alley to get his men money of the stock-jobbers, even after all the horrible demands of discount have been allowed; and at last, scarce per cent. of the money granted by parliament has come into the hands of the exchequer, and that late, too late for service, and by driblets, till the king has been tired with the delay." this is a strange picture; beating even mr. paterson's account of the "processions in the city," and adds another convincing proof of the necessity which then existed for some establishment, capable of advancing money at a reasonable rate, on the security of parliamentary grants. the scheme proposed by william paterson was too important not to meet with many enemies, and it appears from a pamphlet by mr. godfrey, the first deputy-governor, that "some pretended to dislike the bank only for fear it should disappoint their majesties of the supplies proposed to be raised." that "all the several companies of oppressors are strangely alarmed, and exclaim at the bank, and seemed to have joined in a confederacy against it." that "extortion, usury, and oppression were never so attacked as they are likely to be by the bank." that "others pretend the bank will join with the prince to make him absolute. that the concern have too good a bargain and that it would be prejudicial to trade." in bishop burners _history of his own times_ we read an additional evidence of its necessity: "it was visible that all the enemies of the government set themselves against it with such a vehemence of zeal that this alone convinced all people that they saw the strength that our affairs would receive from it. i heard the dutch often reckon the great advantage they had had from their banks, and they concluded that as long as england remained jealous of her government, a bank could never be settled among us, nor gain credit among us to support itself, and upon that they judged that the superiority in trade must still be on their side." all these varied interests were vainly exerted to prevent the bill from receiving the royal sanction; and the bank of england, founded on the same principles which guarded the banks of venice and genoa, was incorporated by royal charter, dated july , . from mr. gilbart's _history and principles of banking_ we present the following brief analysis of this important act: "the act of parliament by which the bank was established is entitled 'an act for granting to their majesties several duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, for securing certain recompenses and advantages in the said act mentioned to such persons as shall voluntarily advance the sum of fifteen hundred thousand pounds toward carrying on the war with france.' after a variety of enactments relative to the duties upon tonnage of ships and vessels, and upon beer, ale, and other liquors, the act authorizes the raising of , , pounds by voluntary subscription, the subscribers to be formed into a corporation and be styled 'the governor and company of the bank of england.' "the sum of , pounds was also to be raised by subscription, and the contributors to receive instead annuities for one, two, or three lives. toward the , , pounds no one person was to subscribe more than , pounds before the first day of july, next ensuing, nor at any time more than , pounds. the corporation were to lend their whole capital to the government, for which they were to receive interest at the rate of per cent. per annum, and pounds per annum for management; being , pounds per annum on the whole. the corporation were not allowed to borrow or owe more than the amount of their capital, and if they did so the individual members became liable to the creditors in proportion to the amount of their stock. the corporation were not to trade in any 'goods, wares, or merchandise whatever, but they were allowed to deal in bills of exchange, gold or silver bullion, and to sell any goods, wares, or merchandise upon which they had advanced money, and which had not been redeemed within three months after the time agreed upon.' the whole of the subscription was filled in a few days; per cent. paid down; and, as we have seen, a charter was issued on july , , of which the following are the most important points: "that the management and government of the corporation be admitted to the governor, deputy-governor, and twenty-four directors, who shall be elected between march th and april th of each year, from among the members of the company, duly qualified. "that no dividend shall at any time be made by the said governor and company save only out of the interest, profit, or produce arising out of the said capital, stock, or fund, or by such dealing as is allowed by act of parliament. "they must be natural-born subjects of england, or naturalized subjects; they shall have in their own name and for their own use, severally, viz., the governor at least pounds, the deputy-governor pounds, and each director pounds of the capital stock of the said corporation. "that thirteen or more of the said governors or directors (of which the governor or deputy-governor shall be always one) shall constitute a court of directors for the management of the affairs of the company, and for the appointment of all agents and servants which may be necessary, paying them such salaries as they may consider reasonable. "every elector must have, in his own name and for his own use, pounds or more capital stock, and can only give one vote; he must, if required by any member present, take the oath of stock, or the declaration of stock if it be one of those people called quakers. "four general courts to be held in every year in the months of september, december, april, and july. a general court may be summoned at any time, upon the requisition of nine proprietors duly qualified as electors. "the majority of electors in general courts have the power to make and constitute by-laws and ordinances for the government of the corporation, provided that such by-laws and ordinances be not repugnant to the laws of the kingdom, and be confirmed and approved according to the statutes in such case made and provided." when the payment was completed it was handed into the exchequer, and the bank procured from other quarters the funds which it required. it employed the same means which the bankers had done at the exchange, with this difference, that the latter traded with personal property, while the bank traded with the deposits of their customers. it was from the circulation of a capital so formed that the bank derived its profits. it is evident, however, from the pamphlet of the first deputy-governor, that at this period they allowed interest to their depositors; and another writer, d'avenant, makes it a subject of complaint: "it would be for the general good of trade if the bank were restrained from allowing interest for running cash; for the ease of having and per cent. without trouble must be a continual bar to industry." first in mercers' hall, where they remained but a few months, and afterward in grocers' hall, since razed for the erection of a more stately structure, the bank of england conducted its operations. here, in one room, with almost primitive simplicity were gathered all who performed the duties of the establishment. "i looked into the great hall where the bank is kept," says the graceful essayist of the day, "and was not a little pleased to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of that wealthy corporation, ranged in their several stations according to the parts they hold in that just and regular economy." the secretaries and clerks altogether numbered but fifty-four, while their united salaries did not exceed four thousand three hundred fifty pounds. but the picture is a pleasant one, and though so much unlike present usages it is doubtful whether our forefathers did not derive more benefit from intimate association with and kindly feelings toward their inferiors than their descendants receive from the broad line of demarcation adopted at the present day. the effect of the new corporation was almost immediately experienced. on august th, in the year of its establishment, the rate of discount on foreign bills was per cent.; although this was the highest legal interest, yet much higher rates had been previously demanded. the name of william paterson was not long upon the list of directors. the bank was established in , and for that year only was its founder among those who managed its proceedings. the facts which led to his departure from the honorable post of director are difficult to collect; but it is not at all improbable that the character of paterson was too speculative for those with whom he was joined in companionship. sir john dalrymple remarks, "the persons to whom he applied made use of his ideas, took the honor to themselves, were civil to him awhile, and neglected him afterward." another writer says, "the friendless scot was intrigued out of his post and out of the honors he had earned." these assertions must be received with caution; accusations against a great body are easily made; and it is rarely consistent with the dignity of the latter to reply; they are received as truths either because people are too idle to examine or because there is no opportunity of investigating them. %colonization of louisiana% a.d. charles e.t. gayarrÉ it was not only as the beginning of what was to become an important state of the american union, but also as a nucleus of occupation which led to an immense acquisition of territory by the united states, that the first settlement in louisiana proved an event of great significance. nothing in american history is of greater moment than the adding of the louisiana purchase ( ) to the united states domain. and the acquisition of that vast region, extending from new orléans to british america, and westward from the mississippi to the rocky mountains, had historic connection with the french settlement of . as early as the territory afterward known as louisiana was mostly embraced in the carolina grant by charles i to sir robert heath. it was taken into possession for the french king by la salle in , and named louisiana in honor of louis xiv. in louis undertook to colonize the region of the lower mississippi, and sent out an expedition under pierre le moyne, sieur d'iberville, a naval commander, who had served in the french wars of canada, and aided in establishing french colonies in north america. with two hundred colonists iberville sailed (september , ) for the mouth of the mississippi. among his companions were his brothers, sauvolle and jean baptiste le moyne, sieur de bienville. the latter was long governor of louisiana, and founded new orleans. of their arrival and subsequent operations in the lower mississippi region, gayarré, the louisiana historian, gives a glowing and picturesque account. on february , , iberville and bienville reached the mississippi. when they approached its mouth they were struck with the gloomy magnificence of the sight. as far as the eye could reach, nothing was to be seen but reeds which rose five or six feet above the waters in which they bathed their roots. they waved mournfully under the blast of the sharp wind of the north, shivering in its icy grasp, as it tumbled, rolled, and gambolled on the pliant surface. multitudes of birds of strange appearance, with their elongated shapes so lean that they looked like metamorphosed ghosts, clothed in plumage, screamed in the air, as if they were scared of one another. there was something agonizing in their shrieks that was in harmony with the desolation of the place. on every side of the vessel, monsters of the deep and huge alligators heaved themselves up heavily from their native or favorite element, and, floating lazily on the turbid waters, seemed to gaze at the intruders. down the river, and rumbling over its bed, there came a sort of low, distant thunder. was it the voice of the hoary sire of rivers, raised in anger at the prospect of his gigantic volume of waters being suddenly absorbed by one mightier than he? in their progress it was with great difficulty that the travellers could keep their bark free from those enormous rafts of trees which the mississippi seemed to toss about in mad frolic. a poet would have thought that the great river, when departing from the altitude of its birthplace, and as it rushed down to the sea through three thousand miles, had, in anticipation of a contest which threatened the continuation of its existence, flung its broad arms right and left across the continent, and, uprooting all its forests, had hoarded them in its bed as missiles to hurl at the head of its mighty rival when they should meet and struggle for supremacy. when night began to cast a darker hue on a landscape on which the imagination of dante would have gloated there issued from that chaos of reeds such uncouth and unnatural sounds as would have saddened the gayest and appalled the most intrepid. could this be the far-famed mississippi, or was it not rather old avernus? it was hideous indeed--but hideousness refined into sublimity, filling the soul with a sentiment of grandeur. nothing daunted, the adventurers kept steadily on their course. they knew that through those dismal portals they were to arrive at the most magnificent country in the world; they knew that awful screen concealed loveliness itself. it was a coquettish freak of nature, when dealing with european curiosity, as it came eagerly bounding to the atlantic wave, to herald it through an avenue so sombre as to cause the wonders of the great valley of the mississippi to burst with tenfold more force upon the bewildered gaze of those who, by the endurance of so many perils and fatigues, were to merit admittance into its eden. it was a relief for the adventurers when, after having toiled up the river for ten days, they at last arrived at the village of the bayagoulas. there they found a letter of tonty[ ] to la salle, dated in . the letter, or rather that "speaking bark" as the indians called it, had been preserved with great reverence. tonty, having been informed that la salle was coming with a fleet from france to settle a colony on the banks of the mississippi, had not hesitated to set off from the northern lakes, with twenty canadians and thirty indians, and to come down to the balize to meet his friend, who had failed to make out the mouth of the mississippi, and had been landed by beaujeu on the shores of texas. after having waited for some time, and ignorant of what had happened, tonty, with the same indifference to fatigues and dangers of an appalling nature, retraced his way back, leaving a letter to la salle to inform him of his disappointment. is there not something extremely romantic in the characters of the men of that epoch? here is tonty undertaking, with the most heroic unconcern, a journey of nearly three thousand miles, through such difficulties as it is easy for us to imagine, and leaving a letter to la salle, as a proof of his visit, in the same way that one would, in these degenerate days of effeminacy, leave a card at a neighbor's house. [footnote : henry de tonty was an italian explorer who accompanied la salle in his descent of the mississippi ( - ).--ed.] the french extended their explorations up to the mouth of the red river. as they proceeded through that virgin country, with what interest they must have examined every object that met their eyes, and listened to the traditions concerning de soto,[ ] and the more recent stories of the indians on la salle and the iron-handed tonty! a coat of mail which was presented as having belonged to the spaniards, and vestiges of their encampment on the red river, confirmed the french in the belief that there was much of truth in the recitals of the indians. [footnote : de soto explored this region in .--ed.] on their return from the mouth of the red river the two brothers separated when they arrived at bayou manchac. bienville was ordered to go down the river to the french fleet, to give information of what they had seen and heard. iberville went through bayou manchac to those lakes which are known under the names of pontchartrain and maurepas. louisiana had been named from a king: was it not in keeping that those lakes should be called after ministers? from the bay of st. louis, iberville returned to his fleet, where, after consultation, he determined to make a settlement at the bay of biloxi. on the east side, at the mouth of the bay, as it were, there is a slight swelling of the shore, about four acres square, sloping gently to the woods in the background, and on the bay. thus this position was fortified by nature, and the french skilfully availed themselves of these advantages. the weakest point, which was on the side of the forest, they strengthened with more care than the rest, by connecting with a strong intrenchment the two ravines, which ran to the bay in a parallel line to each other. the fort was constructed with four bastions, and was armed with twelve pieces of artillery. when standing on one of the bastions which faced the bay, the spectator enjoyed a beautiful prospect. on the right, the bay could be seen running into the land for miles, and on the left stood deer island, concealing almost entirely the broad expanses of water which lay beyond. it was visible only at the two extreme points of the island, which both, at that distance, appeared to be within a close proximity of the mainland. no better description can be given than to say that the bay looked like a funnel to which the island was the lid, not fitting closely, however, but leaving apertures for egress and ingress. the snugness of the locality had tempted the french, and had induced them to choose it as the most favorable spot, at the time, for colonization. sauvolle was put in command of the fort, and bienville, the youngest of the three brothers, was appointed his lieutenant. a few huts having been erected round the fort, the settlers began to clear the land, in order to bring it into cultivation. iberville having furnished them with all the necessary provisions, utensils, and other supplies, prepared to sail for france. how deeply affecting must have been the parting scene! how many casualties might prevent those who remained in this unknown region from ever seeing again those who, through the perils of such a long voyage, had to return to their home! what crowding emotions must have filled up the breast of sauvolle, bienville, and their handful of companions, when they beheld the sails of iberville's fleet fading in the distance, like transient clouds! well may it be supposed that it seemed to them as if their very souls had been carried away, and that they felt a momentary sinking of the heart when they found themselves abandoned, and necessarily left to their own resources, scanty as they were, on a patch of land between the ocean on one side and on the other a wilderness, which fancy peopled with every sort of terrors. the sense of their loneliness fell upon them like the gloom of night, darkening their hopes and filling their hearts with dismal apprehensions. but as the country had been ordered to be explored, sauvolle availed himself of that circumstance to refresh the minds of his men by the excitement of an expedition into the interior of the continent. he therefore hastened to despatch most of them with bienville, who, with a chief of the bayagoulas for his guide, went to visit the colapissas. they inhabited the northern shore of lake pontchartrain, and their domains embraced the sites now occupied by lewisburg, mandeville, and fontainebleau. that tribe numbered three hundred warriors, who, in their distant hunting-excursions, had been engaged in frequent skirmishes with some of the british colonists in south carolina. when the french landed, they were informed that, two days previous, the village of the colapissas had been attacked by a party of two hundred chickasaws, headed by two englishmen. these were the first tidings which the french had of their old rivals, and which proved to be the harbinger of the incessant struggle which was to continue for more than a century between the two races, and to terminate by the permanent occupation of louisiana by the anglo-saxon. bienville returned to the fort to convey this important information to sauvolle. after having rested there for several days, he went to the bay of pascagoulas, and ascended the river which bears that name, and the banks of which were tenanted by a branch of the biloxis, and by the moelobites. encouraged by the friendly reception which he met everywhere, he ventured farther, and paid a visit to the mobilians, who entertained him with great hospitality. bienville found them much reduced from what they had been, and listened with eagerness to the many tales of their former power, which had been rapidly declining since the crushing blow they had received from de soto. when iberville ascended the mississippi the first time, he had remarked bayou plaquemines and bayou chetimachas. the one he called after the fruit of certain trees which appeared to have exclusive possession of its banks, and the other after the name of the indians who dwelt in the vicinity. he had ordered them to be explored, and the indefatigable bienville, on his return from mobile, obeyed the instructions left to his brother, and made an accurate survey of these two bayous. when he was coming down the river, at the distance of about eighteen miles below the site where new orleans now stands, he met an english vessel of sixteen guns, under the command of captain bar. the english captain informed the french that he was examining the banks of the river, with the intention of selecting a spot for the foundation of a colony. bienville told him that louisiana was a dependency of canada; that the french had already made several establishments on the mississippi; and he appealed, in confirmation of his assertions, to their own presence in the river, in such small boats, which evidently proved the existence of some settlement close at hand. the englishman believed bienville, and sailed back. where this occurrence took place the river makes a considerable bend, and it was from the circumstance which i have related that the spot received the appellation of the "english turn"--a name which it has retained to the present day. it was not far from that place, the atmosphere of which appears to be fraught with some malignant spell hostile to the sons of albion, that the english, who were outwitted by bienville in , met with a signal defeat in battle from the americans in . the diplomacy of bienville and the military genius of jackson proved to them equally fatal when they aimed at the possession of louisiana. since the exploring expedition of la salle down the mississippi, canadian hunters, whose habits and intrepidity fenimore cooper has so graphically described in the character of leather-stocking, used to extend their roving excursions to the banks of that river; and those holy missionaries of the church, who, as the pioneers of religion, have filled the new world with their sufferings, and whose incredible deeds in the service of god afford so many materials for the most interesting of books, had come in advance of the pickaxe of the settler, and had domiciliated themselves among the tribes who lived near the waters of the mississippi. one of them, father montigny, was residing with the tensas, within the territory of the present parish of tensas, in the state of louisiana, and another, father davion, was the pastor of the yazoos, in the present state of mississippi. such were the two visitors who in appeared before sauvolle, at the fort of biloxi, to relieve the monotony of his cheerless existence, and to encourage him in his colonizing enterprise. their visit, however, was not of long duration, and they soon returned to discharge the duties of their sacred mission. iberville had been gone for several months, and the year was drawing to a close without any tidings of him. a deeper gloom had settled over the little colony at biloxi, when, on december th, some signal-guns were heard at sea, and the grateful sound came booming over the waters, spreading joy in every breast. there was not one who was not almost oppressed with the intensity of his feelings. at last, friends were coming, bringing relief to the body and to the soul! every colonist hastily abandoned his occupation of the moment and ran to the shore. the soldier himself, in the eagerness of expectation, left his post of duty, and rushed to the parapet which overlooked the bay. presently several vessels hove in sight, bearing the white flag of france, and, approaching as near as the shallowness of the beach permitted, folded their pinions, like water-fowl seeking repose on the crest of the billows. it was iberville returning with the news that, on his representations, sauvolle had been appointed by the king governor of louisiana; bienville, lieutenant-governor; and boisbriant, commander of the fort at biloxi, with the grade of major. iberville, having been informed by bienville of the attempt of the english to make a settlement on the banks of the mississippi, and of the manner in which it had been foiled, resolved to take precautionary measures against the repetition of any similar attempt. without loss of time he departed with bienville, on january , , and running up the river, he constructed a small fort, on the first solid ground which he met, and which is said to have been at a distance of fifty-four miles from its mouth. when so engaged, the two brothers one day saw a canoe rapidly sweeping down the river and approaching the spot where they stood. it was occupied by eight men, six of whom were rowers, the seventh was the steersman, and the eighth, from his appearance, was evidently of a superior order to that of his companions, and the commander of the party. well may it be imagined what greeting the stranger received, when leaping on shore he made himself known as the chevalier de tonty, who had again heard of the establishment of a colony in louisiana, and who, for the second time, had come to see if there was any truth in the report. with what emotion did iberville and bienville fold in their arms the faithful companion and friend of la salle, of whom they had heard so many wonderful tales from the indians, to whom he was so well known under the name of "iron hand"! with what admiration they looked at his person, and with what increasing interest they listened to his long recitals of what he had done and had seen on that broad continent, the threshold of which they had hardly passed! after having rested three days at the fort, the indefatigable tonty reascended the mississippi, with iberville and bienville, and finally parted with them at natchez. iberville was so much pleased with that part of the bank of the river where now exists the city of natchez that he marked it down as a most eligible spot for a town, of which he drew the plan, and which he called rosalie, after the maiden name of the countess pontchartrain, the wife of the chancellor. he then returned to the new fort he was erecting on the mississippi, and bienville went to explore the country of the yatasses, of the natchitoches, and of the ouachitas. what romance can be more agreeable to the imagination than to accompany iberville and bienville in their wild explorations, and to compare the state of the country in their time with what it is in our days? when the french were at natchez they were struck with horror at an occurrence, too clearly demonstrating the fierceness of disposition of that tribe which was destined in after years to become celebrated in the history of louisiana. one of their temples having been set on fire by lightning, a hideous spectacle presented itself to the europeans. the tumultuous rush of the indians; the infernal howlings and lamentations of the men, women, and children; the unearthly vociferations of the priests, their fantastic dances and ceremonies around the burning edifice; the demoniac fury with which mothers rushed to the fatal spot, and, with the piercing cries and gesticulations of maniacs, flung their new-born babes into the flames to pacify their irritated deity--the increasing anger of the heavens--blackening with the impending storm, the lurid flashes of lightning darting as it were in mutual enmity from the clashing clouds--the low, distant growling of the coming tempest--the long column of smoke and fire shooting upward from the funeral pyre, and looking like one of the gigantic torches of pandemonium--the war of the elements combined with the worst effects of frenzied superstition of man--the suddenness and strangeness of the awful scene--all the circumstances produced such an impression upon the french as to deprive them for a moment of the powers of volition and action. rooted to the ground, they stood aghast with astonishment and indignation at the appalling scene. was it a dream--a wild delirium of the mind? but no--the monstrous reality of the vision was but too apparent; and they threw themselves among the indians, supplicating them to cease their horrible sacrifice to their gods, and joining threats to their supplications. owing to this intervention, and perhaps because a sufficient number of victims had been offered, the priests gave the signal of retreat, and the indians slowly withdrew from the accursed spot. such was the aspect under which the natchez showed themselves, for the first time, to their visitors: it was ominous presage for the future. after these explorations iberville departed again for france, to solicit additional assistance from the government, and left bienville in command of the new fort on the mississippi. it was very hard for the two brothers, sauvolle and bienville, to be thus separated, when they stood so much in need of each other's countenance, to breast the difficulties that sprung up around them with a luxuriance which they seemed to borrow from the vegetation of the country. the distance between the mississippi and biloxi was not so easily overcome in those days as in ours, and the means which the two brothers had of communing together were very scanty and uncertain. sauvolle died august , , and louisiana remained under the sole charge of bienville, who, though very young, was fully equal to meet that emergency, by the maturity of his mind and by his other qualifications. he had hardly consigned his brother to the tomb when iberville returned with two ships of the line and a brig laden with troops and provisions. according to iberville's orders, and in conformity with the king's instructions, bienville left boisbriant, his cousin, with twenty men, at the old fort of biloxi, and transported the principal seat of the colony to the western side of the river mobile, not far from the spot where now stands the city of mobile. near the mouth of that river there is an island, which the french had called massacre island from the great quantity of human bones which they found bleaching on its shores. it was evident that there some awful tragedy had been acted; but tradition, when interrogated, laid her choppy finger upon her skinny lips, and answered not. this uncertainty, giving a free scope to the imagination, shrouded the place with a higher degree of horror and with a deeper hue of fantastical gloom. it looked like the favorite ballroom of the witches of hell. the wind sighed so mournfully through the shrivelled-up pines, those vampire heads seemed incessantly to bow to some invisible and grisly visitors: the footsteps of the stranger emitted such an awful and supernatural sound, when trampling on the skulls which strewed his path, that it was impossible for the coldest imagination not to labor under some crude and ill-defined apprehension. verily, the weird sisters could not have chosen a fitter abode. nevertheless, the french, supported by their mercurial temperament, were not deterred from forming an establishment on that sepulchral island, which, they thought, afforded some facilities for their transatlantic communications. in war had broken out between great britain, france, and spain; and iberville, a distinguished officer of the french navy, was engaged in expeditions that kept him away from the colony. it did not cease, however, to occupy his thoughts, and had become clothed, in his eye, with a sort of family interest. louisiana was thus left, for some time, to her scanty resources; but, weak as she was, she gave early proofs of that generous spirit which has ever since animated her; and on the towns of pensacola and st. augustine, then in possession of the spaniards, being threatened with an invasion by the english of south carolina, she sent to her neighbors what help she could in men, ammunition, and supplies of all sorts. it was the more meritorious as it was the _obolus_ of the poor! the year slowly rolled by and gave way to . still, nothing was heard from the parent country. there seemed to be an impassable barrier between the old and the new continent. the milk which flowed from the motherly breast of france could no longer reach the parched lips of her new-born infant; and famine began to pinch the colonists, who scattered themselves all along the coast, to live by fishing. they were reduced to the veriest extremity of misery, and despair had settled in every bosom, in spite of the encouragements of bienville, who displayed the most manly fortitude amid all the trials to which he was subjected, when suddenly a vessel made its appearance. the colonists rushed to the shore with wild anxiety, but their exultation was greatly diminished when, on the nearer approach of the moving speck, they recognized the spanish instead of the french flag. it was relief, however, coming to them, and proffered by a friendly hand. it was a return made by the governor of pensacola for the kindness he had experienced the year previous. thus the debt of gratitude was paid: it was a practical lesson. where the seeds of charity are cast, there springs the harvest in time of need. good things, like evils, do not come singly, and this succor was but the herald of another one, still more effectual, in the shape of a ship from france. iberville had not been able to redeem his pledge to the poor colonists, but he had sent his brother chateaugué in his place, at the imminent risk of being captured by the english, who occupied, at that time, most of the avenues of the gulf of mexico. he was not the man to spare either himself or his family in cases of emergency, and his heroic soul was inured to such sacrifices. grateful the colonists were for this act of devotedness, and they resumed the occupation of their tenements which they had abandoned in search of food. the aspect of things was suddenly changed; abundance and hope reappeared in the land, whose population was increased by the arrival of seventeen persons, who came, under the guidance of chateaugué, with the intention of making a permanent settlement, and who, in evidence of their determination, had provided themselves with all the implements of husbandry. we, who daily see hundreds flocking to our shores, and who look at the occurrence with as much unconcern as at the passing cloud, can hardly conceive the excitement produced by the arrival of these seventeen emigrants among men who, for nearly two years, had been cut off from communication with the rest of the civilized world. a denizen of the moon, dropping on this planet, would not be stared at and interrogated with more eager curiosity. this excitement had hardly subsided when it was revived by the appearance of another ship, and it became intense when the inhabitants saw a procession of twenty females, with veiled faces, proceeding arm in arm, and two by two, to the house of the governor, who received them in state and provided them with suitable lodgings. what did it mean? innumerable were the gossipings of the day, and part of the coming night itself was spent in endless commentaries and conjectures. but the next morning, which was sunday, the mystery was cleared by the officiating priest reading from the pulpit, after mass, and for the general information, the following communication from the minister to bienville: "his majesty sends twenty girls to be married to the canadians and to the other inhabitants of mobile, in order to consolidate the colony. all these girls are industrious and have received a pious and virtuous education. beneficial results to the colony are expected from their teaching their useful attainments to the indian females. in order that none should be sent except those of known virtue and of unspotted reputation, his majesty did intrust the bishop of québec with the mission of taking these girls from such establishments as, from their very nature and character, would put them at once above all suspicions of corruption. you will take care to settle them in life as well as may be in your power, and to marry them to such men as are capable of providing them with a commodious home." this was a very considerate recommendation, and very kind it was, indeed, from the great louis xiv, one of the proudest monarchs that ever lived, to descend from his olympian seat of majesty to the level of such details and to such minute instructions for ministering to the personal comforts of his remote louisianan subjects. many were the gibes and high was the glee on that occasion; pointed were the jokes aimed at young bienville on his being thus transformed into a matrimonial agent and _pater familiae_. the intentions of the king, however, were faithfully executed, and more than one rough but honest canadian boatman of the st. lawrence and of the mississippi closed his adventurous and erratic career and became a domestic and useful member of that little commonwealth, under the watchful influence of the dark-eyed maid of the loire or of the seine. infinite are the chords of the lyre which delights the romantic muse; and these incidents, small and humble as they are, appear to me to be imbued with an indescribable charm, which appeals to her imagination. %prussia proclaimed a kingdom% a.d. leopold von ranke few historical developments are more distinctly traceable or of greater importance than that of the margravate of brandenburg into the kingdom of prussia, the principal state of the present german empire. as far back as the tenth century the name preussen (prussia) was applied to a region lying east of brandenburg, which in that century became a german margravate. at that time the inhabitants of prussia were still heathens. in the thirteenth century they were converted to christianity, having first been conquered by the teutonic knights in "a series of remorseless wars" continued for almost fifty years. german colonization followed the conquest. in nearly the whole of prussia was wrested from the teutonic knights and annexed to the polish crown. soon after the beginning of the reformation the teutonic knights embraced protestantism and the order became secularized. in the knights formally surrendered to king sigismund of poland, their late grand master was created duke of prussia, and this, with other former possessions of the order, was held by him as a vassal of the polish crown. this relation continued until , when the duchy of prussia was united with brandenburg, which had become a german electorate. during the thirty years' war the enlarged electorate took little part in affairs, but suffered much from the ravages of the conflict. under the electorate of george william, who died in , brandenburg became almost a desert, and in this impoverished condition was left to his son, frederick william, the "great elector," who restored it to prosperity and strengthened its somewhat insecure sovereignty over the duchy of prussia. the great elector died in , and was succeeded by his son, frederick iii of brandenburg. this elector, through the series of events narrated by ranke, became the founder of the prussian monarchy, and is known in history as frederick i. he founded the academy of sciences in berlin and the university of halle. * * * * * frederick i, the next heir and successor to the "great elector," though far inferior to his father in native energy of character, cannot be accused of having flinched from the task imposed on him. above all, the warlike fame of the brandenburg troops suffered no diminution under his reign. his army took a very prominent and active part in the most important events of that period. prince william of orange might, perhaps, have hesitated whether to try the adventure which made him king of england, had not the dutch troops, which he was forced to withdraw from the netherlands for his expedition, been replaced by some from brandenburg. the fact has indeed been disputed, but on closer investigation its truth has been established, beyond doubt, that many other brandenburg soldiers in his service and that of his republic followed him to england, where they contributed essentially to his success. in the war which now broke out upon the rhine the young elector, frederick, took the field himself, inflamed by religious enthusiasm, patriotism, and personal ambition. on one occasion, at the siege of bonn, when he was anxious about the result, he stepped aside to the window and prayed to god that he might suffer no disgrace in this his first enterprise. he was successful in his attack upon bonn, and cleared the whole lower rhine of the hostile troops; he at the same time gained a high reputation for personal courage. long after, at the beginning of the war of the spanish succession, the presence of the elector contributed in a great measure to the speedy termination of the first important siege--that of kaiserswerth, a point from which the french threatened at once both holland and westphalia. but it was not only when led by the elector that his troops distinguished themselves by their courage; they fought most bravely at the battle of hochstadt. prince eugene, under whose command they stood, could scarce find words strong enough to praise the "undaunted steadfastness" with which they first withstood the shock of the enemy's attack, and then helped to break through his tremendous fire. two years later, at turin, they helped to settle the affairs of italy in the same manner as they had already done in those of germany; headed by prince leopold of anhalt, they climbed over the enemy's intrenchments, under the full fire of his artillery, shouting the old brandenburg war-cry of "_gah to_" ("go on"). the warlike enterprise of brandenburg never spread over a wider field than under frederick i. then it was that they first met the turks in terrible battles; they showed themselves in the south of france at the siege of toulon; in their camp the protestant service was performed for the first time in the territories of the pope, and the inhabitants of the surrounding country came to look on and displayed a certain satisfaction at the sight. but the netherlands were always the scene of their greatest achievements and at that time an excellent school for their further progress in the art of war; there they might at once study sieges under the dutch commanders, vauban and cochorn, and campaigns under marlborough, one of the greatest generals of all times. throughout all the years of his reign frederick steadily adhered to the great alliance which his father had helped to form so long as that alliance continued to subsist; and, indeed, the interest which he took in the affairs of europe at large was in the end of great advantage to himself and to his house. that very alliance was the original cause of his gaining a crown--the foundation of the prussian monarchy. it will not be denied, even by those who think most meanly of the externals of rank and title, that the attainment of a higher step in the european hierarchy, as it then stood, was an object worth striving for. the western principalities and republics still formed a great corporation, at the head of which was the german emperor. even the crown of france had to submit to manifold and wearisome negotiations in order to obtain the predicate of "majesty," which until then had belonged exclusively to the emperor. the other sovereigns then laid claim to the same dignity as that enjoyed by the king of france, and the venetian republic to an equal rank with those, on the score of the kingdoms which she once possessed; and, accordingly, the electoral ambassadors to vienna had to stand bareheaded while the venetian covered his head. the electors and reigning dukes were but ill-pleased with such precedence, and in their turn laid claim to the designation of "serenissimus," and the title of "brother," for themselves, and the style of "excellency" for their ambassadors. but even the most powerful among the electors found it difficult to advance a single step in this matter, because whatever privileges were conceded to them were immediately claimed by all the rest, many of whom were mere barons of the empire. it is evident that brandenburg was interested in being freed at once from these negotiations, which only served to impede and embarrass all really important business. there exists the distinct assertion of a highly placed official man that the royal title had been promised to the elector, frederick william: his son now centred his whole ambition in its attainment. frederick, while elector, was one of the most popular princes that ever reigned in brandenburg. his contemporaries praise him for his avoidance of all dissipation, and his life entirely devoted to duty; while his subjects were still asleep, say they, the prince was already busied with their affairs, for he rose very early. a poet of the time makes phosphorus complain that he is ever anticipated by the king of prussia. his manners were gracious, familiar, sincere, and deliberate. his conversation indicated "righteous and princely thoughts." those essays, written by him, which we have read, exhibit a sagacious and careful treatment of the subjects under consideration. he shared in a very great degree the taste of his times for outward show and splendor; but in him it took a direction which led to something far higher than mere ostentation. the works of sculpture and architecture produced under his reign are monuments of a pure and severe taste; the capital of prussia has seen none more beautiful. he complacently indulged in the contemplation of the greatness founded by his father, the possession of a territory four times as large as that of any other elector, and the power of bringing into the field an army which placed him on a level with kings. now, however, he desired that this equality should be publicly recognized, especially as he had no lack of treasure and revenue wherewith to maintain the splendor and dignity of a royal crown. in the mind of the father, this ambition was combined with schemes of conquest; in the son it was merely a desire for personal and dynastic aggrandizement. it is certain that the origin of such a state as the kingdom of prussia can be attributed to no other cause than to so remarkable a succession of so many glorious princes. frederick was resolved to appear among them distinguished by some important service rendered to his house. "frederick i," said he, "gained the electoral dignity for our house, and i, as frederick iii, would fain give it royal rank, according to the old saying that 'the third time makes perfect." it was in the year that he first began seriously to act upon the project of obtaining a royal crown. he had just led some troops to crossen which were to serve the emperor against the turks; but the imperial ministers neither arrived in due time to receive them, nor, when at length they made their appearance, did they bring with them the grants of certain privileges and expectancies which frederick had looked for. in disgust at being treated with neglect at the very moment in which he was rendering the emperor a very essential service, he went to carlsbad, where he was joined by his ambassador to vienna, who had been commissioned by the imperial ministers to apologize for the omissions of which they had been guilty. in concert with his ambassador, and his prime minister, dankelmann, the brother of the former, frederick resolved to make public the wish which he had hitherto entertained in secret, or only now and then let drop into conversation; the ambassador accordingly received instruction to present a formal memorial. at that time, however, nothing could be done. the count of ottingen, who was hostile to the protestant princes, was once more in favor at the court of vienna; the peril from without had ceased to be pressing, and coalition had begun gradually to dissolve; the only result of the negotiation was a vague and general promise. the elector did not, however, give up his idea. the elevation of the saxon house to the throne of poland, the prospect enjoyed by his near kindred of hanover of succeeding to that of england, and perhaps the very difficulties and opposition which he encountered, tended to sharpen his appetite for a royal crown. the misunderstandings which arose among the great european powers out of the approaching vacancy of the throne of spain soon afforded him an excellent opportunity of renewing his demands. the court of vienna was not to be moved by past, but by future, services. it would be unnecessary to enter into the details of the negotiation on this subject; it suffices to say that the prince devoted his whole energy to it, and never lost sight of any advantage afforded by his position. suggestions of the most exaggerated kind were made to him; for instance, that he should lay his claims before the pope, who possessed the power of granting the royal dignity in a far higher degree than the emperor; while, on the other hand, some of the more zealous protestants among his ministers were anxious to avoid even that degree of approach toward the catholic element implied in a closer alliance with the emperor, and desired that the elector's elevation in rank should be made to depend upon some new and important acquisition of territory, such, for example, as that of polish prussia, which then seemed neither difficult nor improbable. frederick, however, persisted in the opinion that he was entitled to the royal dignity merely on acccount of his sovereign dukedom of prussia, and that the recognition of the emperor was the most important step in the affair. he was convinced that, when the emperor had once got possession of the spanish inheritance, or concluded a treaty upon the subject, nothing more was to be hoped from him; but that now, while the elector of brandenburg was able to render him as effectual assistance as any power in europe, some advantage might be wrung from him in return. influenced by these considerations, he resolved to lay proposals before the emperor, which acquired uncommon significance from the circumstances under which they were made. at that very time, in march, , england, holland, and france had just concluded a treaty for the division of the spanish monarchy, in which the right of inheritance of austria was utterly disregarded, in order to preserve the european balance of power. spain and the indies were, indeed, to fall to the share of the young archduke charles, but he was to be deprived of naples, sicily, and milan; and should the archduke ever become emperor of germany, spain and the indies were to be given up to another prince, whose claims were far inferior to his. this treaty was received with disgust and indignation at vienna, where the assistance of heaven was solemnly implored, and its interference in the affair fully expected. at this juncture brandenburg offered to make common cause with the emperor, not alone against france, but even against england and holland, with whom it was otherwise closely allied. the only recompense was to be the concession of royal rank to the elector. the principal opposition to this offer arose out of the difference of confessions. it is also quite true that the emperor's confessor, pater wolf, to whom the elector wrote with his own hand, helped to overrule it, and took part in the negotiations. but the determining cause was, without doubt, the political state of affairs. a concession which involved no loss could not surely be thought too high a price to pay for the help of the most warlike of the german powers on so important an occasion. in the month of july, , at the great conference, the imperial ministers came to the resolution that the wishes of the elector should be complied with; and as soon as the conditions could be determined, involving the closest alliance both for the war and for the affairs of the empire, the treaty was signed on november , . on the side of brandenburg the utmost care was taken not to admit a word which might imply anything further than the assent and concurrence of the emperor. the elector affected to derive from his own power alone the right of assuming the royal crown. he would, nevertheless, have encountered much ulnpleasant oppositions in other quarters but for the concurrences which, very opportunely for him, now took place in france and spain. the last spanish sovereign of the line of hapsburg had died in the mean time; and on opening his will it was found to be entirely in favor of the king of france, whose grandson was appointed heir to the whole spanish monarchy. hereupon louis xiv broke the treaty of partition which had recently been made under his own influence, and determined to seize the greater advantage, and to accept the inheritance. this naturally roused all the antipathies entertained by other nations against france, and england and holland went over to the side of austria. the opposition which these two powers had offered to the erection of a new throne was now silenced, and they beheld a common interest in the elevation of the house of brandenburg. frederick had, moreover, already come to an understanding with the king of poland, though not with the republic; so that, thus supported, and with the consent of all his old allies, he could now celebrate the splendid coronation for which his heart had so long panted. we will not describe here the ceremonial of january , ; to our taste it seems overcharged when we read the account of it. but there is a certain grandeur in the idea of the sovereign's grasping the crown with his own hand; and the performance of the ceremony of anointing after, instead of before, the crowning, by two priests promoted to bishoprics for the occasion, was a protest against the dependence of the temporal on the spiritual power, such as perhaps never was made at any other coronation either before or since. the spiritual element showed itself in the only attitude of authority left to it in protestant states: that of teaching and exhortation. the provost of berlin demonstrated, from the examples of christ and of david, that the government of kings must be carried on to the glory of god and the good of their people. he lays down as the first principle that all rulers should bear in mind, they have come into the world for the sake of their subjects, and not their subjects for the sake of them. finally, he exhorts all his hearers to pray to god that he will deeply impress this conviction upon the hearts of all sovereign princes. the institution of the order of the black eagle, which immediately preceded the coronation, was likewise symbolical of the duties of royalty. the words "_suum cuique_," on the insignia of the order, according to lamberty, who suggested them, contain the definition of a good government, under which all men alike, good as well as bad, are rewarded according to their several deserts. the laurel and the lightning denote reward and punishment. the conception at least is truly royal. leibnitz, who was at that time closely connected with the court, and who busied himself very much with this affair, justly observes that nothing is complete without a name, and that, although the elector did already possess every royal attribute, he became truly a king only by being called so. although the new dignity rested only on the possession of prussia, all the other provinces were included in the rank and title; those belonging to the german empire were thus in a manner chosen out from among the other german states, and united into a new whole, though, at the same time, care was taken in other respects to keep up the ancient connection with the empire. thus we see that the elevation of the elector to a royal title was an important, nay, even a necessary, impulse to the progress of prussia, which we cannot even in thought separate from the whole combination of events. the name of prussia now became inseparable from an idea of military power and glory, which was increased by splendid feats of arms, such as those which we have already enumerated. %founding of st. petersburg% a.d. k. waliszewski[ ] [footnote : translated from the russian by lady mary loyd.] so radical and so vigorous were the changes made by peter the great in russia that they roused the opposition of almost the entire nation. moscow, the ancient capital, was the chief seat of this protesting conservatism; and peter, resolved to teach his opponents how determined he was in his course and how helpless they were against his absolute power, formed the tremendous project of building a wholly new capital, one where no voice could be raised against him, where no traditions should environ him. he chose an icy desert plain looking out toward the waters which led to that western europe which he meant to imitate, if not to conquer. no other man--one is almost tempted to say, no sane man--would have ventured to erect a capital city in such an impossible place and on the very frontier of his dominions. that peter not only dared, but succeeded, though at an almost immeasurable cost, makes the creation of the great metropolis, st. petersburg, one of the most remarkable events of history. it was the chances of the great northern war that led peter to st. petersburg. when he first threw down the gauntlet to sweden he turned his eyes on livonia--on narva and riga. but livonia was so well defended that he was driven northward, toward ingria. he moved thither grudgingly, sending, in the first instance, apraxin, who turned the easily conquered province into a desert. it was not for some time, and gropingly, as it were, that the young sovereign began to see his way, and finally turned his attention and his longings to the mouth of the neva. in former years gustavus adolphus had realized the strategical importance of a position which his successor, charles xii, did not deem worthy of consideration, and had himself studied all its approaches. peter not only took it to be valuable from the military and commercial point of view: he also found it most attractive, and would fain have never left it. he was more at home there than anywhere else, and the historical legends, according to which it was true russian ground, filled him with emotion. no one knows what inspired this fondness on his part. it may have been the vague resemblance of the marshy flats to the lowlands of holland; it may have been the stirring of some ancestral instinct. according to a legend, accepted by nestor, it was by the mouth of the neva that the earliest norman conquerors of the country passed on their journeys across the varegian sea--_their own sea_--and so to rome. peter would seem to have desired to take up the thread of that tradition, nine centuries old; and the story of his own foundation of the town has become legendary and epic. one popular description represents him as snatching a halberd from one of his soldiers, cutting two strips of turf, and laying them crosswise with the words "here there shall be a town!" foundation-stones were evidently lacking, and sods had to take their place. then, dropping the halberd, he seized a spade, and began the first embankment. at that moment an eagle appeared, hovering over the czar's head. it was struck by a shot from a musket. peter took the wounded bird, set it on his wrist, and departed in a boat to inspect the neighborhood. this occurred on may , . history adds that the swedish prisoners employed on the work died in thousands. the most indispensable tools were lacking. there were no wheelbarrows, and the earth was carried in the corners of men's clothing. a wooden fort was first built on the island bearing the finnish name of ianni-saari (hare island). this was the future citadel of st. peter and st. paul. then came a wooden church, and the modest cottage which was to be peter's first palace. near these, the following year, there rose a lutheran church, ultimately removed to the left bank of the river, into the liteinaia quarter, and also a tavern, the famous inn of the four frigates, which did duty as a town hall for a long time before it became a place of diplomatic meeting. then the cluster of modest buildings was augmented by the erection of a bazaar. the czar's collaborators gathered round him, in cottages much like his own, and the existence of st. petersburg became an accomplished fact. but, up to the time of the battle of poltava, peter never thought of making st. petersburg his capital. it was enough for him to feel he had a fortress and a port. he was not sufficiently sure of his mastery over the neighboring countries, not certain enough of being able to retain his conquest, to desire to make it the centre of his government and his own permanent residence. this idea was not definitely accepted till after his great victory. his final decision has been bitterly criticised, especially by foreign historians; it has been severely judged and remorselessly condemned. before expressing any opinion of my own on the subject, i should like to sum up the considerations which have been put forward to support this unfavorable verdict. the great victory, we are told, diminished the strategic importance of st. petersburg, and almost entirely extinguished its value as a port; while its erection into the capital city of the empire was never anything but madness. peter, being now the indisputable master of the baltic shores, had nothing to fear from any swedish attack in the gulf of finland. before any attempt in that direction, the swedes were certain to try to recover narva or riga. if in later years they turned their eyes to st. petersburg, it was only because that town had acquired undue and unmerited political importance. it was easy of attack and difficult to defend. there was no possibility of concentrating any large number of troops there, for the whole country, forty leagues round, was a barren desert. in catharine ii complained that her capital was too near the swedish frontier, and too much exposed to sudden movements, such as that which gustavus iii very nearly succeeded in carrying out. here we have the military side of the question. from the commercial point of view st. petersburg, we are assured, did command a valuable system of river communication; but that commanded by riga was far superior. the livonian, esthonian, and courland ports of riga, libau, and revel, all at an equal distance from st. petersburg and moscow, and far less removed from the great german commercial centres, enjoyed a superior climate, and were, subsequent to the conquest of the above-mentioned provinces, the natural points of contact between russia and the west. an eloquent proof of this fact may be observed nowadays in the constant increase of their commerce, and the corresponding decrease of that of st. petersburg, which has been artificially developed and fostered. besides this, the port of st. petersburg, during the lifetime of its founder, never was anything but a mere project. peter's ships were moved from kronslot to kronstadt. between st. petersburg and kronstadt the neva was not, in those days, more than eight feet deep, and manstein tells us that all ships built at petersburg had to be dragged, by means of machines fitted with cables, to kronstadt, where they received their guns. once these had been taken on board, the vessels could not get upstream again. the port of kronstadt was closed by ice for six months out of the twelve, and lay in such a position that no sailing-ship could leave it unless the wind blew from the east. there was so little salt in its waters that the ship timbers rotted in a very short time, and, besides, there were no oaks in the surrounding forests, and all such timber had to be brought from kasan. peter was so well aware of all these drawbacks that he sought and found a more convenient spot for his shipbuilding yards at rogerwick, in esthonia, four leagues from revel. but here he found difficulty in protecting the anchorage from the effects of hurricanes and from the insults of his enemies. he hoped to insure this by means of two piers, built on wooden caissons filled with stones. he thinned the forests of livonia and esthonia to construct it, and finally, the winds and the waves having carried everything away twice over, the work was utterly abandoned. on the other hand, and from the very outset, the commercial activity of st. petersburg was hampered by the fact that it was the czar's capital. the presence of the court made living dear, and the consequent expense of labor was a heavy drawback to the export trade, which, by its nature, called for a good deal of manual exertion. according to a dutch resident of that period, a wooden cottage, very inferior to that inhabited by a peasant in the low countries, cost from eight hundred to one thousand florins a year at st. petersburg. a shopkeeper at archangel could live comfortably on a quarter of that sum. the cost of transport, which amounted to between nine and ten copecks a pood ( . pounds), between moscow and archangel, five to six between yaroslaff and archangel, and three or four between vologda and archangel, came to eighteen, twenty, and thirty copecks a pood in the case of merchandise sent from any of these places to st. petersburg. this accounts for the opposition of the foreign merchants at archangel to the request that they should remove to st. petersburg. peter settled the matter in characteristic fashion, by forbidding any trade in hemp, flax, leather, or corn to pass through archangel. this rule, though somewhat slackened, in , at the request of the states-general of holland, remained in force during the great czar's reign. in hemp and some other articles of commerce were allowed free entrance into the port of archangel, but only on condition that two-thirds of all exports should be sent to st. petersburg. this puts the case from the maritime and commercial point of view. as a capital city, st. petersburg, we are told again, was ill-placed on the banks of the neva, not only for the reasons already given, but for others, geographical, ethnical, and climatic, which exist even in the present day, and which make its selection an outrage on common-sense. was it not, we are asked, a most extraordinary whim which induced a russian to found the capital of his slavonic empire among the finns, against the swedes--to centralize the administration of a huge extent of country in its remotest corner--to retire from poland and germany on the plea of drawing nearer to europe, and to force everyone about him, officials, court, and diplomatic corps, to inhabit one of the most inhospitable spots, under one of the least clement skies, he could possibly have discovered? the whole place was a marsh--the finnish word neva means "mud"; the sole inhabitants of the neighboring forests were packs of wolves. in , during a winter night, two sentries, posted before the cannon-foundry, were devoured. even nowadays, the traveller, once outside the town, plunges into a desert. far away in every direction the great plain stretches; not a steeple, not a tree, not a head of cattle, not a sign of life, whether human or animal. there is no pasturage, no possibility of cultivation--fruit, vegetables, and even corn, are all brought from a distance. the ground is in a sort of intermediate condition between the sea and _terra firma_. up to catharine's reign inundations were chronic in their occurrence. on september , , peter drew from his pocket the measure he always carried about him, and convinced himself that there were twenty-one inches of water above the floors of his cottage. in all directions he saw men, women, and children clinging to the wreckage of buildings, which was being carried down the river. he described his impressions in a letter to menshikoff, dated from "paradise," and declared it was "extremely amusing." it may be doubted whether he found many persons to share his delight. communications with the town, now rendered easy by railways, were in those days not only difficult, but dangerous. campredon, when he went from moscow to st. petersburg, in april, , spent twelve hundred rubles. he lost part of his luggage, eight of his horses were drowned, and after having travelled for four weeks he reached his destination, very ill. peter himself, who arrived before the french diplomat, had been obliged to ride part of the way, and to swim his horse across the rivers! but in spite of all these considerations, the importance of which i am far from denying, i am inclined to think peter's choice a wise one. nobody can wonder that the idea of retaining moscow as his capital was most repugnant to him. the existence of his work in those hostile surroundings--in a place which to this day has remained obstinately reactionary--could never have been anything but precarious and uncertain. it must, after his death at least, if not during his life, have been at the mercy of those popular insurrections before which the sovereign power, as established in the kremlin, had already so frequently bowed. when peter carried muscovy out of her former existence, and beyond her ancient frontiers, he was logically forced to treat the seat of his government in the same manner. his new undertaking resembled, both in aspect and character, a marching and fighting formation, directed toward the west. the leader's place, and that of his chief residence, was naturally indicated at the head of his column. this once granted, and the principle of the translation of the capital to the western extremity of the czar's newly acquired possessions admitted, the advantages offered by ingria would appear to me to outweigh all the drawbacks previously referred to. the province was, at that period, virgin soil sparsely inhabited by a finnish population possessing neither cohesion nor historical consistency, and, consequently, docile and easily assimilated. everywhere else--all along the baltic coast, in esthonia, in carelia, and in courland--though the swedes might be driven out, the germans still remained firmly settled; the neighborhood of their native country and of the springs of teutonic culture enduing them with an invincible power of resistance. riga in the present day, after nearly two centuries of russian government, is a thoroughly german town. in st. petersburg, russia, as a country, became european and cosmopolitan, but the city itself is essentially russian, and the finnish element in its neighborhood counts for nothing. in this matter, though peter may not have clearly felt and thought it out, he was actuated by the mighty and unerring instinct of his genius. i am willing to admit that here, as in everything else, there was a certain amount of whim, and perhaps some childish desire to ape amsterdam. i will even go further, and acknowledge that the manner in which he carried out his plan was anything but reasonable. two hundred thousand laborers, we are told, died during the construction of the new city, and the russian nobles ruined themselves to build palaces which soon fell out of occupation. but an abyss was opened between the past the reformer had doomed and the future on which he had set his heart, and the national life, thus violently forced into a new channel, was stamped, superficially at first, but more and more deeply by degrees, with the western and european character he desired to impart. moscow, down to the present day, has preserved a religious, almost a monastic air; at every street corner chapels attract the passers-by, and the local population, even at its busiest, crosses itself and bends as it passes before the sacred pictures which rouse its devotion at every turn. st. petersburg, from the very earliest days, presented a different and quite a secular appearance. at moscow no public performance of profane music was permitted. at st. petersburg the czar's german musicians played every day on the balcony of his tavern. toward the middle of the eighteenth century the new city boasted a french theatre and an italian opera, and schloezer noted that divine service was performed in fourteen languages! modern russia, governed, educated to a certain extent, intellectually speaking emancipated, and relatively liberal, could not have come into existence nor grown in stature elsewhere. and to conclude: peter was able to effect this singular change without doing too great violence to the historical traditions of his country. from the earliest days of russian history, the capital had been removed from place to place--from novgorod to kiev, from kiev to vladimir, from vladimir to moscow. this phenomenon was the consequence of the immense area of the national territory, and the want of consistency in the elements of the national life. from the beginning to the end of an evolution which lasted centuries the centre of gravity of the disjointed, scattered, and floating forces of ancient russia perpetually changed its place. thus the creation of st. petersburg was nothing but the working out of a problem in dynamics. the struggle with sweden, the conquest of the baltic provinces, and the yet more important conquest of a position in the european world naturally turned the whole current of the national energies and life in that direction. peter desired to perpetuate this course. i am inclined to think he acted wisely. %battle of blenheim% curbing of louis xiv a.d. sir edward shepherd creasy among the decisive battles of the world, that of blenheim is regarded by historians as one of the most far-reaching in results. "the decisive blow struck at blenheim," says alison, "resounded through every part of europe. it at once destroyed the vast fabric of power which it had taken louis xiv so long to construct." and creasy himself elsewhere declares: "had it not been for blenheim, all europe might at this day suffer under the effect of french conquests resembling those of alexander in extent and those of the romans in durability." it was the first great battle in the war of the spanish succession ( - ), which was carried on mainly in italy, the netherlands, and germany. this war followed closely upon the war of the palatinate, which ended with the treaty of ryswick, in . to this peace louis xiv of france--the most powerful monarch in europe, who, in spite of his brutal conduct of the war, had really been a loser by it--gave his consent. among the concessions made by him was his recognition--much against his own interest--of william iii as the rightful king of england. louis gave his consent to the treaty of ryswick partly because of his interest in the question of the spanish succession. charles ii of spain--last of the hapsburg line in that country--was childless, and there were three claimants for the throne; namely, philip of anjou, grandson of louis xiv; the electoral prince of bavaria; and charles, son of leopold i of germany, emperor of the holy roman empire. the real stake was the "balance of power" in europe. at last, after much wrangling and intrigue among the courts, charles ii bequeathed his throne to the bavarian prince, whose death, in , left europe still divided over the succession. finally, louis xiv completely won charles ii to his side, and philip of anjou was named in charles' will as his heir. louis accepted for philip, who was crowned at madrid, in , as philip v, and europe was stirred to wrath by the greed of the already too powerful french king. turning now upon england, louis, in violation of the treaty of ryswick, declared the son of the exiled james ii rightful king of that country. the result of louis' acts was the grand alliance of the hague against france, formed between england, holland, prussia, the holy roman empire, portugal, and savoy. on the side of the allies in the war that followed, the great generals were the english duke of marlborough, prince eugene of savoy, and hensius, pensioner of holland. france had lost her best generals by death, and louis was compelled to rely upon inferior men as leaders of his army. war was formally declared against france by the allies may , . the early operations were carried on in flanders, in germany--on the upper rhine--and in northern italy. marlborough headed the allied troops in flanders during the first two years of the war, and took some towns from the enemy, but nothing decisive occurred. nor did any actions of importance take place during this period between the rival armies in italy. but in the centre of that line from north to south, from the mouth of the schelde to the mouth of the po, along which the war was carried on, the generals of louis xiv acquired advantages in which threatened one chief member of the grand alliance with utter destruction. france had obtained the important assistance of bavaria as her confederate in the war. the elector of this powerful german state made himself master of the strong fortress of ulm, and opened a communication with the french armies on the upper rhine. by this junction the troops of louis were enabled to assail the emperor in the very heart of germany. in the autumn of the combined armies of the elector and french king completely defeated the imperialists in bavaria; and in the following winter they made themselves masters of the important cities of augsburg and passau. meanwhile the french army of the upper rhine and moselle had beaten the allied armies opposed to them, and taken treves and landau. at the same time the discontents in hungary with austria again broke out into open insurrection, so as to distract the attention and complete the terror of the emperor and his council at vienna. louis xiv ordered the next campaign to be commenced by his troops on a scale of grandeur and with a boldness of enterprise such as even napoleon's military schemes have seldom equalled. on the extreme left of the line of the war, in the netherlands, the french armies were to act only on the defensive. the fortresses in the hands of the french there were so many and strong that no serious impression seemed likely to be made by the allies on the french frontier in that quarter during one campaign, and that one campaign was to give france such triumphs elsewhere as would, it was hoped, determine the war. large detachments were therefore to be made from the french force in flanders, and they were to be led by marshal villeroy to the moselle and upper rhine. the french army already in the neighborhood of those rivers was to march under marshal tallard through the black forest, and join the elector of bavaria, and the french troops that were already with the elector under marshal marsin. meanwhile the french army of italy was to advance through the tyrol into austria, and the whole forces were to combine between the danube and the inn. a strong body of troops was to be despatched into hungary, to assist and organize the insurgents in that kingdom; and the french grand army of the danube was then in collected and irresistible might to march upon vienna and dictate terms of peace to the emperor. high military genius was shown in the formation of this plan, but it was met and baffled by a genius higher still. marlborough had watched with the deepest anxiety the progress of the french arms on the rhine and in bavaria, and he saw the futility of carrying on a war of posts and sieges in flanders, while death-blows to the empire were being dealt on the danube. he resolved, therefore, to let the war in flanders languish for a year, while he moved with all the disposable forces that he could collect to the central scenes of decisive operations. such a march was in itself difficult; but marlborough had, in the first instance, to overcome the still greater difficulty of obtaining the consent and cheerful cooperation of the allies, especially of the dutch, whose frontier it was proposed thus to deprive of the larger part of the force which had hitherto been its protection. fortunately, among the many slothful, the many foolish, the many timid, and the not few treacherous rulers, statesmen, and generals of different nations with whom he had to deal, there were two men, eminent both in ability and integrity, who entered fully into marlborough's projects and who, from the stations which they occupied, were enabled materially to forward them. one of these was the dutch statesman heinsius, who had been the cordial supporter of king william, and who now, with equal zeal and good faith, supported marlborough in the councils of the allies; the other was the celebrated general, prince eugene, whom the austrian cabinet had recalled from the italian frontier to take the command of one of the emperor's armies in germany. to these two great men, and a few more, marlborough communicated his plan freely and unreservedly; but to the general councils of his allies he only disclosed part of his daring scheme. he proposed to the dutch that he should march from flanders to the upper rhine and moselle with the british troops and part of the foreign auxiliaries, and commence vigorous operations against the french armies in that quarter, while general auverquerque, with the dutch and the remainder of the auxiliaries, maintained a defensive war in the netherlands. having with difficulty obtained the consent of the dutch to this portion of his project, he exercised the same diplomatic zeal, with the same success, in urging the king of prussia and other princes of the empire to increase the number of the troops which they supplied, and to post them in places convenient for his own intended movements. marlborough commenced his celebrated march on may th. the army which he was to lead had been assembled by his brother, general churchill, at bedburg, not far from maestricht, on the meuse; it included sixteen thousand english troops, and consisted of fifty-one battalions of foot, and ninety-two squadrons of horse. marlborough was to collect and join with him on his march the troops of prussia, luneburg, and hesse, quartered on the rhine, and eleven dutch battalions that were stationed at rothweil. he had only marched a single day when the series of interruptions, complaints, and requisitions from the other leaders of the allies began, to which he seemed subjected throughout his enterprise, and which would have caused its failure in the hands of anyone not gifted with the firmness and the exquisite temper of marlborough. one specimen of these annoyances and of marlborough's mode of dealing with them may suffice. on his encamping at kupen on the th, he received an express from auverquerque pressing him to halt, because villeroy, who commanded the french army in flanders, had quitted the lines which he had been occupying, and crossed the meuse at namur with thirty-six battalions and forty-five squadrons, and was threatening the town of huy. at the same time marlborough received letters from the margrave of baden and count wratislaw, who commanded the imperialist forces at stollhoffen, near the left bank of the rhine, stating that tallard had made a movement, as if intending to cross the rhine, and urging him to hasten his march toward the lines of stollhoffen. marlborough was not diverted by these applications from the prosecution of his grand design. conscious that the army of villeroy would be too much reduced to undertake offensive operations, by the detachments which had already been made toward the rhine, and those which must follow his own march, he halted only a day to quiet the alarms of auverquerque. to satisfy also the margrave, he ordered the troops of hompesch and buelow to draw toward philippsburg, though with private injunctions not to proceed beyond a certain distance. he even exacted a promise to the same effect from count wratislaw, who at this juncture arrived at the camp to attend him during the whole campaign. marlborough reached the rhine at coblenz, where he crossed that river, and then marched along its left bank to broubach and mainz. his march, though rapid, was admirably conducted, so as to save the troops from all unnecessary fatigue; ample supplies of provisions were ready, and the most perfect discipline was maintained. by degrees marlborough obtained more reinforcements from the dutch and the other confederates, and he also was left more at liberty by them to follow his own course. indeed, before even a blow was struck, his enterprise had paralyzed the enemy and had materially relieved austria from the pressure of the war. villeroy, with his detachments from the french flemish army, was completely bewildered by marlborough's movements, and, unable to divine where it was that the english general meant to strike his blow, wasted away the early part of the summer between flanders and the moselle without effecting anything.[ ] [footnote : "marshal villeroy," says voltaire, "who had wished to follow marlborough on his first marches, suddenly lost sight of him altogether, and only learned where he really was on hearing of his victory at donawert."] marshal tallard, who commanded forty-five thousand french at strasburg, and who had been destined by louis to march early in the year into bavaria, thought that marlborough's march along the rhine was preliminary to an attack upon alsace; and the marshal therefore kept his forty-five thousand men back in order to protect france in that quarter. marlborough skilfully encouraged his apprehensions by causing a bridge to be constructed across the rhine at philippsburg, and by making the landgrave of hesse advance his artillery at mannheim, as if for a siege of landau. meanwhile the elector of bavaria and marshal marsin, suspecting that marlborough's design might be what it really proved to be, forbore to press upon the austrians opposed to them or to send troops into hungary; and they kept back so as to secure their communications with france. thus, when marlborough, at the beginning of june, left the rhine and marched for the danube, the numerous hostile armies were uncombined and unable to check him. "with such skill and science," says coxe, "had this enterprise been concerted that at the very moment when it assumed a specific direction the enemy was no longer enabled to render it abortive. as the march was now to be bent toward the danube, notice was given for the prussians, palatines, and hessians, who were stationed on the rhine, to order their march so as to join the main body in its progress. at the same time directions were sent to accelerate the advance of the danish auxiliaries, who were marching from the netherlands." crossing the river neckar, marlborough marched in a southeastern direction to mundelshene, where he had his first personal interview with prince eugene, who was destined to be his colleague on so many glorious fields. thence, through a difficult and dangerous country, marlborough continued his march against the bavarians, whom he encountered on july d on the heights of the schullenberg, near donauwoerth. marlborough stormed their intrenched camp, crossed the danube, took several strong places in bavaria, and made himself completely master of the elector's dominions except the fortified cities of munich and augsburg. but the elector's army, though defeated at donauwoerth, was still numerous and strong; and at last marshal tallard, when thoroughly apprised of the real nature of marlborough's movements, crossed the rhine; and being suffered, through the supineness of the german general at stollhoffen, to march without loss through the black forest, he united his powerful army at biberach, near augsburg, with that of the elector and the french troops under marshal marsin, who had previously been cooperating with the bavarians. on the other hand, marlborough recrossed the danube, and on august th united his army with the imperialist forces under prince eugene. the combined armies occupied a position near hoechstaedt,[ ] a little higher up the left bank of the danube than donauwoerth, the scene of marlborough's recent victory, and almost exactly on the ground where marshal villars and the elector had defeated an austrian army in the preceding year. the french marshals and the elector were now in position a little further to the east, between blenheim and lützingen, and with the little stream of the nebel between them and the troops of marlborough and eugene. the gallo-bavarian army consisted of about sixty thousand men, and they had sixty-one pieces of artillery. the army of the allies was about fifty-six thousand strong, with fifty-two guns. [footnote : the battle of blenheim is called by the germans and the french the battle of hoechstaedt.--ed.] although the french army of italy had been unable to penetrate into austria, and although the masterly strategy of marlborough had hitherto warded off the destruction with which the cause of the allies seemed menaced at the beginning of the campaign, the peril was still most serious. it was absolutely necessary for marlborough to attack the enemy before villeroy should be roused into action. there was nothing to stop that general and his army from marching into franconia, whence the allies drew their principal supplies; and besides thus distressing them, he might, by marching on and joining his army to those of tallard and the elector, form a mass which would overwhelm the force under marlborough and eugene. on the other hand, the chances of a battle seemed perilous, and the fatal consequences of a defeat were certain. the disadvantage of the allies in point of number was not very great, but still it was not to be disregarded; and the advantage which the enemy seemed to have in the composition of their troops was striking. tallard and marsin had forty-five thousand frenchmen under them, all veterans and all trained to act together; the elector's own troops also were good soldiers. marlborough, like wellington at waterloo, headed an army of which the larger proportion consisted, not of english, but of men of many different nations and many different languages. he was also obliged to be the assailant in the action, and thus to expose his troops to comparatively heavy loss at the commencement of the battle, while the enemy would fight under the protection of the villages and lines which they were actively engaged in strengthening. the consequences of a defeat of the confederated army must have broken up the grand alliance, and realized the proudest hopes of the french king. alison, in his admirable military history of the duke of marlborough, has truly stated the effects which would have taken place if france had been successful in the war; and when the position of the confederates at the time when blenheim was fought is remembered--when we recollect the exhaustion of austria, the menacing insurrection of hungary, the feuds and jealousies of the german princes, the strength and activity of the jacobite party in england, and the imbecility of nearly all the dutch statesmen of the time, and the weakness of holland if deprived of her allies--we may adopt his words in speculating on what would have ensued if france had been victorious in the battle, and "if a power, animated by the ambition, guided by the fanaticism, and directed by the ability of that of louis xiv, had gained the ascendency in europe. "beyond all question, a universal despotic dominion would have been established over the bodies, a cruel spiritual thraldom over the minds, of men. france and spain, united under bourbon princes and in a close family alliance--the empire of charlemagne with that of charles v--the power which revoked the edict of nantes and perpetrated the massacre of st. bartholomew, with that which banished the moriscoes and established the inquisition, would have proved irresistible, and, beyond example, destructive to the best interests of mankind. "the protestants might have been driven, like the pagan heathens of old by the son of pépin, beyond the elbe; the stuart race, and with them romish ascendency, might have been reestablished in england; the fire lighted by latimer and ridley might have been extinguished in blood; and the energy breathed by religious freedom into the anglo-saxon race might have expired. the destinies of the world would have been changed. europe, instead of a variety of independent states, whose mutual hostility kept alive courage, while their national rivalry stimulated talent, would have sunk into the slumber attendant on universal dominion. the colonial empire of england would have withered away and perished, as that of spain has done in the grasp of the inquisition. the anglo-saxon race would have been arrested in its mission to overspread the earth and subdue it. the centralized despotism of the roman empire would have been renewed on continental europe; the chains of romish tyranny, and with them the general infidelity of france before the revolution, would have extinguished or perverted thought in the british islands." marlborough's words at the council of war, when a battle was resolved on, are remarkable, and they deserve recording. we know them on the authority of his chaplain, mr. (afterward bishop) hare, who accompanied him throughout the campaign, and in whose journal the biographers of marlborough have found many of their best materials. marlborough's words to the officers who remonstrated with him on the seeming temerity of attacking the enemy in their position were: "i know the danger, yet a battle is absolutely necessary, and i rely on the bravery and discipline of the troops, which will make amends for our disadvantages." in the evening orders were issued for a general engagement, and were received by the army with an alacrity which justified his confidence. the french and bavarians were posted behind the little stream called the nebel, which runs almost from north to south into the danube immediately in front of the village of blenheim. the nebel flows along a little valley, and the french occupied the rising ground to the west of it. the village of blenheim was the extreme right of their position, and the village of luetzingen, about three miles north of blenheim, formed their left. beyond luetzingen are the rugged high grounds of the godd berg and eich berg, on the skirts of which some detachments were posted, so as to secure the gallo-bavarian position from being turned on the left flank. the danube secured their right flank; and it was only in front that they could be attacked. the villages of blenheim and luetzingen had been strongly palisaded and intrenched; marshal tallard, who held the chief command, took his station at blenheim; the elector and marshal marsin commanded on the left. tallard garrisoned blenheim with twenty-six battalions of french infantry and twelve squadrons of french cavalry. marsin and the elector had twenty-two battalions of infantry and thirty-six squadrons of cavalry in front of the village of luetzingen. the centre was occupied by fourteen battalions of infantry, including the celebrated irish brigade. these were posted in the little hamlet of oberglau, which lies somewhat nearer to luetzingen than to blenheim. eighty squadrons of cavalry and seven battalions of foot were ranged between oberglau and blenheim. thus the french position was very strong at each extremity, but was comparatively weak in the centre. tallard seems to have relied on the swampy state of the part of the valley that reaches from below oberglau to blenheim for preventing any serious attack on this part of his line. the army of the allies was formed into two great divisions, the largest being commanded by the duke in person, and being destined to act against tallard, while prince eugene led the other division, which consisted chiefly of cavalry, and was intended to oppose the enemy under marsin and the elector. as they approached the enemy, marlborough's troops formed the left and the centre, while eugene's formed the right of the entire army. early in the morning of august th the allies left their own camp and marched toward the enemy. a thick haze covered the ground, and it was not until the allied right and centre had advanced nearly within cannon-shot of the enemy that tallard was aware of their approach. he made his preparations with what haste he could, and about eight o'clock a heavy fire of artillery was opened from the french right on the advancing left wing of the british. marlborough ordered up some of his batteries to reply to it, and while the columns that were to form the allied left and centre deployed, and took up their proper stations in the line, a warm cannonade was kept up by the guns on both sides. the ground which eugene's columns jiad to traverse was peculiarly difficult, especially for the passage of the artillery, and it was nearly mid-day before he could get his troops into line opposite to luetzingen. during this interval marlborough ordered divine service to be performed by the chaplains at the head of each regiment, and then rode along the lines, and found both officers and men in the highest spirits and waiting impatiently for the signal for the attack. at length an aide-de-camp galloped up from the right with the welcome news that eugene was ready. marlborough instantly sent lord cutts, with a strong brigade of infantry to assault the village of blenheim, while he himself led the main body down the eastward slope of the valley of the nebel, and prepared to effect the passage of the stream. the assault on blenheim, though bravely made, was repulsed with severe loss, and marlborough, finding how strongly that village was garrisoned, desisted from any further attempts to carry it, and bent all his energies to breaking the enemy's line between blenheim and oberglau. some temporary bridges had been prepared, and planks and fascines had been collected; and by the aid of these, and a little stone bridge which crossed the nebel near a hamlet called unterglau, that lay in the centre of the valley, marlborough succeeded in getting several squadrons across the nebel, though it was divided into several branches, and the ground between them was soft, and, in places, little better than a mere marsh. but the french artillery was not idle. the cannon-balls plunged incessantly among the advancing squadrons of the allies, and bodies of french cavalry rode frequently down from the western ridge, to charge them before they had time to form on the firm ground. it was only by supporting his men by fresh troops, and by bringing up infantry, who checked the advance of the enemy's horse by their steady fire, that marlborough was able to save his army in this quarter from a repulse, which, succeeding the failure of the attack upon blenheim, would probably have been fatal to the allies. by degrees, his cavalry struggled over the bloodstained streams; the infantry were also now brought across, so as to keep in check the french troops who held blenheim, and who, when no longer assailed in front, had begun to attack the allies on their left with considerable effect. marlborough had thus at length succeeded in drawing up the whole left wing of his army beyond the nebel, and was about to press forward with it, when he was called away to another part of the field by a disaster that had befallen his centre. the prince of holstein beck had, with eleven hanoverian battalions, passed the nebel opposite to oberglau, when he was charged and utterly routed by the irish brigade which held that village. the irish drove the hanoverians back with heavy slaughter, broke completely through the line of the allies, and nearly achieved a success as brilliant as that which the same brigade afterward gained at fontenoy. but at blenheim their ardor in pursuit led them too far. marlborough came up in person, and dashed in upon the exposed flank of the brigade with some squadrons of british cavalry. the irish reeled back, and as they strove to regain the height of oberglau their column was raked through and through by the fire of three battalions of the allies, which marlborough had summoned up from the reserve. marlborough having reestablished the order and communications of the allies in this quarter, now, as he returned to his own left wing, sent to learn how his colleague fared against marsin and the elector, and to inform eugene of his own success. eugene had hitherto not been equally fortunate. he had made three attacks on the enemy opposed to him, and had been thrice driven back. it was only by his own desperate personal exertions, and the remarkable steadiness of the regiments of prussian infantry, which were under him, that he was able to save his wing from being totally defeated. but it was on the southern part of the battle-field, on the ground which marlborough had won beyond the nebel with such difficulty, that the crisis of the battle was to be decided. like hannibal, marlborough relied principally on his cavalry for achieving his decisive successes, and it was by his cavalry that blenheim, the greatest of his victories, was won. the battle had lasted till five in the afternoon. marlborough had now eight thousand horsemen drawn up in two lines, and in the most perfect order for a general attack on the enemy's line along the space between blenheim and oberglau. the infantry was drawn up in battalions in their rear, so as to support them if repulsed, and to keep in check the large masses of the french that still occupied the village of blenheim. tallard now interlaced his squadrons of cavalry with battalions of infantry, and marlborough, by a corresponding movement, brought several regiments of infantry and some pieces of artillery to his front line at intervals between the bodies of horse. a little after five marlborough commenced the decisive movement, and the allied cavalry, strengthened and supported by foot and guns, advanced slowly from the lower ground near the nebel up the slope to where the french cavalry, ten thousand strong, awaited them. on riding over the summit of the acclivity, the allies were received with so hot a fire from the french artillery and small arms that at first the cavalry recoiled, but without abandoning the high ground. the guns and the infantry which they had brought with them maintained the contest with spirit and effect. the french fire seemed to slacken. marlborough instantly ordered a charge along the line. the allied cavalry galloped forward at the enemy's squadrons, and the hearts of the french horsemen failed them. discharging their carbines at an idle distance, they wheeled round and spurred from the field, leaving the nine infantry battalions of their comrades to be ridden down by the torrent of the allied cavalry. the battle was now won. tallard and marsin, severed from each other, thought only of retreat. tallard drew up the squadrons of horse that he had left, in a line extended toward blenheim, and sent orders to the infantry in that village to leave it and join him without delay. but long ere his orders could be obeyed the conquering squadrons of marlborough had wheeled to the left and thundered down on the feeble array of the french marshal. part of the force which tallard had drawn up for this last effort was driven into the danube; part fled with their general to the village of sonderheim, where they were soon surrounded by the victorious allies and compelled to surrender. meanwhile eugene had renewed his attack upon the gallo-bavarian left, and marsin, finding his colleague utterly routed, and his own right flank uncovered, prepared to retreat. he and the elector succeeded in withdrawing a considerable part of their troops in tolerable order to dillingen; but the krge body of french who garrisoned blenheim were left exposed to certain destruction. marlborough speedily occupied all the outlets from the village with his victorious troops, and then, collecting his artillery round it, he commenced a cannonade that speedily would have destroyed blenheim itself and all who were in it. after several gallant but unsuccessful attempts to cut their way through the allies, the french in blenheim were at length compelled to surrender at discretion; and twenty-four battalions and twelve squadrons, with all their officers, laid down their arms and became the captives of marlborough. "such," says voltaire, "was the celebrated battle which the french called the battle of hoechstaedt, the germans blindheim, and the english blenheim. the conquerors had about five thousand killed and eight thousand wounded, the greater part being on the side of prince eugene. the french army was almost entirely destroyed: of sixty thousand men, so long victorious, there never reassembled more than twenty thousand effective. about twelve thousand killed, fourteen thousand prisoners, all the cannon, a prodigious number of colors and standards, all the tents and equipages, the general of the army, and one thousand two hundred officers of mark in the power of the conqueror, signalized that day!" ulm, landau, treves, and traerbach surrendered to the allies before the close of the year. bavaria submitted to the emperor, and the hungarians laid down their arms. germany was completely delivered from france, and the military ascendency of the arms of the allies was completely established. throughout the rest of the war louis fought only in defence. blenheim had dissipated forever his once proud visions of almost universal conquest. %union of england and scotland% a.d. john hill burton although not one of the longest, the reign of queen anne was one of the most glorious, in english history. not only was it signalized by the victorious deeds of marlborough in the war of the spanish succession, but also by the union of the two kingdoms of england and scotland, one of the principal events in british annals. before the union england and scotland had no political partnership save that derived through the person of the sovereign by inheritance of both crowns. from the completion of the union in both countries have been not only under one royal head, but also represented in a single parliament. at the beginning of anne's reign the attitude of scotland toward england was hostile, old antagonisms surviving in memory to intensify fresh irritations. although william iii, predecessor of anne, had urged a union of the kingdoms, all negotiations to that end had failed. in , and again in , the scottish parliament had passed an act of security declaring in favor of the abrogation of the union of the crowns which had existed for a century. the english parliament resorted to retaliatory measures. by this time, however, the wiser statesmen in both countries saw that open hostilities could be averted only by a complete political union of the two kingdoms, and they used all their influence to bring it about. how this great historic reconciliation was accomplished, burton, the eminent scottish historian and jurist, shows with equal learning and impartiality. the english statute, responding by precautions and threats to the scots act of security, contained clauses for furthering an incorporating union as the only conclusive settlement of accumulating difficulties. it provided that commissioners for england appointed by the queen under the great seal shall have power "to treat and consult" with commissioners for the same purpose "authorized by authority of the parliament of scotland." the statute of the parliament of scotland completing the adjustment, with the short title "act for a treaty with england," authorizes such persons "as shall be nominated and appointed by her majesty under the great seal of this kingdom" to treat and consult with "the commissioners for england." the next great step was the appointment of the two commissions, thirty-one on either side. on the english were the two archbishops; for scotland there was no clerical element. it was noticed that for england all the members not official were from the peerage, while in scotland there seemed to be a desire to represent the peerage, the landed commoners, and the burgesses or city interest, in just proportions. at an early stage in the daily business, the english brought up a proposition about the reception of which they had considerable apprehension: that there should be "the same customs, excise, and all other taxes" throughout the united kingdom--virtually a resolution that scotland should be taxed on the english scale. this was easily passed by means of a solvent--due, no doubt, to the financial genius of godolphin--that, on an accounting and proof of local or personal hardships arising from the adoption of uniformity, compensation in money should be made from the english treasury. but a more critical point was reached when, on april th, the chancellor of scotland brought forward, among certain preliminary articles, one "that there be free communication, and intercourse of trade and navigation, between the two kingdoms and plantations thereunto belonging, under such regulations as in the progress of this treaty shall be found most for the advantage of both kingdoms." this was frankly accepted on the part of england, and faithfully adjusted in detail. it was felt to be a mighty sacrifice made to exercise indefinite but formidable calamities in another shape. at this point in the progress of the union all interest resting on the excitements of political victory and defeat, or the chances of a bitter war, came to an end. there were a few small incidents in scotland; but england was placidly indifferent. she had cheerfully paid a heavy stake as loser in the great game, and it would trouble her no more. the statesmen of the two countries knew that the union must pass unless the jacobites of scotland were joined by an invading french army; and that was not a likely casualty while marlborough was hovering on the frontiers of france. there was a touch of the native haughtiness in this placid indifference of england. no doubt it helped in clearing the way to the great conclusion; but for many years after the fusing of the two nations into one, disturbing events showed that it had been better had the english known something about the national institutions and the temper of the people who had now a right to call themselves their fellow-countrymen. it was expected that scotland would be quietly absorbed into england--absorptions much more difficult in the first aspect were in continuous progress in asia and america. the englishman had great difficulty in reconciling himself to political and social conditions not his own, and his pride prompted him to demand that, if he left england, any part of the world honored by his presence should make an england for his reception. when expecting this on the other side of the border, he forgot that the scot had too much of his own independence and obstinacy. true, the scot, among the sweet uses of adversity, had imbibed more of the vagrant, and could adapt himself more easily to the usages and temper of other nations. but on the question of yielding up his own national usages and prejudices in his own country he was as obstinate as his mighty partner. there was stills world of business to be transacted in details of the unattractive kind that belong to accountants' reports. these may be objects of vital and intense interest--as in the realizing of the assets in bankruptcies, where persons immediately interested in frantic excitement hunt out the array of small figures--two, three, four, or five--that tells them whether they are safe or ruined. but the interest is not of a kind to hold its intensity through after generations. on some items of the present accounting, however, there was, in the principle adopted, a fund of personal and political interest. the heavy debts of england had to be considered--and here, as in all pecuniary arrangements, england was freehanded. the scots made an effort to retain their african company, but they fortunately offered the alternative of purchasing the stock from the holders. on the alternative of retention the english commissioners were resolute in refusal and resistance, but they were ready to entertain the other; and they accepted it in a literal shape. to have bought the stock at its market value would have been a farce, after the ruin that had overcome the company. but if it could not be even said that england had ruined the company, the sacrifice had been made in the prevalence of english interests, and while there was yet a hold on england it should be kept. there was no difficulty in coming to a settlement satisfactory to the scots, and willingly offered by the english. it was substantially payment of the loss on each share, as calculated from an examination of the company's books. the adjustment of the several pecuniary claims thus created in favor of scotland was simply the collective summation of the losses incurred by all the stockholders; and when the summation was completed the total was passed into a capital sum, called the "equivalent." this sum total of the various items, with all their fractions, making up a fractional sum less than four hundred thousand pounds, might be otherwise described as a capital stock held by the shareholders of the old company trading to africa and the indies, each to the extent of his loss. odious suspicions were, down to the present generation, propagated about an item or group of items in the equivalent. a sum amounting to twenty thousand five hundred forty pounds seventeen shillings sevenpence had been made over by the english treasury, to be paid to influential scotsmen as the price of their votes or influence in favor of england. fortunately this affair was closely investigated by the celebrated committee of inquiry that brought on marlborough's dismissal and walpole's imprisonment. it was found that the scots treasury had been drained; and the crisis of the union was not a suitable time either for levying money or for leaving debts--the salaries of public offices especially--unpaid. england, therefore, lent money to clear away this difficulty. the transaction was irregular, and had not passed through the proper treasury forms. it was ascertained, however, that the money so lent had been repaid. in discussions of the affair, before those concerned were fully cleared of the odium of bribery, taunting remarks had been made on the oddity and sordid specialties of the items of payment. thus the allowance to the lord banff was, in sterling money, eleven pounds two shillings. it would have had a richer sound, and perhaps resolved itself into round numbers, in scots money; but as it is, there is no more to be said against it than that, as a debt in some way due to the lord banff, the exact english book-keeper had entered it down to its fraction. there remained a few matters of adjustment of uniformities between the two countries for the advantage of both--such as a fixed standard for rating money in account. the scots grumbled, rather than complained, about the english standard being always made the rule, and no reciprocity being offered. but the scots were left considerable facilities for the use of their own customs for home purposes in pecuniary matters, and in weights and measures. if, for the general convenience of commerce and taxation, any uniformity was necessary, and the practice of the greater nation was a suitable standard for the other, it was the smaller sacrifice, and to both parties the easier arrangement, that those who were only an eighth part of the inhabitants of the island should yield to the overwhelming majority. it was in keeping with the wisdom and tolerance prevailing throughout on the english side of the treaty that it should be first discussed in the parliament of scotland. if this was felt as a courtesy to scotland it was an expediency for england. all opposition would be in scotland, and it was well to know it at once, that disputes might be cleared off and a simple affirmative or negative presented to the parliament of scotland. the parliament of england has ever restrained vague oratory by a rule that there must always be a question of yes or no, fitted for a division as the text of a debate. in scotland on this occasion, as on many others, there was at first a discussion of the general question; and when this, along with other sources of information, had given the servants of the crown some assurance of the fate of the measure, there was a separate debate and division on the first article, understood on all hands to be a final decision. the debate was decorated by a work of oratorical art long admired in scotland, and indeed worthy of admiration anywhere for its brilliancy and power. it was a great philippic--taking that term in its usual acceptation--as expressing a vehement torrent of bitter epigram and denunciatory climax. the speech of john hamilton, lord belhaven, "on the subject-matter of a union betwixt the two kingdoms of england and scotland," was so amply dispersed in its day that if a collector of pamphlets on the union buys them in volumes he will generally find this speech in each volume. it is, no doubt, an effort of genius; but what will confer more interest on the following specimens selected from it is that it was an attempt to rouse the nation to action at this perilous and momentous crisis, and succeeded only in drawing attention and admiration as a fine specimen of rhetorical art: "i think i see the present peers of scotland, whose noble ancestors conquered provinces, overran countries, reduced and subjected towns and fortified places, exacted tribute through the greater part of england, now walking in the court of requests like so many english attorneys, laying aside their walking-swords when in company with the english peers, lest their self-defence should be found murder. "i think i see the royal state of boroughs walking their desolate streets, hanging down their heads under disappointments, wormed out of all the branches of their old trade, uncertain what hand to turn to, necessitate to become 'prentices to their unkind neighbors, and yet after all finding their trade so fortified by companies and secured by prescriptions that they despair of any success therein. but above all, my lord, i think i see our ancient mother, caledonia, like caesar, sitting in the midst of our senate, ruefully looking round her, covering herself with her royal garment, attending the fatal blow, and breathing out her last with a _'et tu quoque mi fili,'_" the great remedy for all is an end of rancorous feuds and hatreds dividing scotland; and this calls from him a glowing picture of the land that by union and industry has made itself too powerful to be a safe partner for humiliated scotland: "they are not under the afflicting hand of providence as we are; their circumstances are great and glorious; their treaties are prudently managed both at home and abroad; their generals brave and valorous; their armies successful and victorious; their trophies and laurels memorable and surprising; their enemies subdued and routed. their royal navy is the terror of europe; their trade and commerce extended through the universe, encircling the whole world, and rendering their own capital city the emporium for the whole inhabitants of the earth." the speech was for the country, not for the house. the great points about trade and virtual independence had been conceded by england, and a union was looked to rather as a refuge and a gain than as oppression and plunder. it has even been said that there was some inclination to receive the speech with irony; and defoe, who seems to have been present on the occasion, gives this account of what followed: "mr. seton, who made the first speech, stood up to answer the lord belhaven; but as he had already spoken, the order of the house--viz., 'that the same member could not speak twice in the same cause'--was urged against his speaking, and the earl of marchmont standing up at the same time, the lord chancellor gave place to him, who indeed made a short return to so long a speech, and which answer occasioned some laughter in the house. the earl of marchmont's speech was to this purpose, viz.: he had heard a long speech, and a very terrible one; but he was of opinion it required a short answer, which he gave in these terms: 'behold he dreamed, but, lo! when he awoke, he found it was a dream.' this answer, some said, was as satisfactory to the members, who understood the design of that speech as if it had been answered vision by vision." in the debates on the union, some scots statesmen found a tactic, infinitely valuable to them in the united parliament, of voting in a group. they were called the "new party," and nicknamed the "_squadrone volante_." in the correspondence already referred to, it was good news at st. stephen's when it was announced that the new party had adopted the union. on the critical division the numbers stood one hundred eighteen for the article and eighty-three against it. the remainder of the clauses passed without division, a ready acceptance being given to amendments, that were virtually improvements, in giving effect to the spirit of details in the treaty; as where it was adjusted that, for trading purposes, vessels bought abroad for trade from the scots harbors should be counted equivalent to vessels of scottish build. there was a considerable noisy excitement through the country, the jacobites ever striving to rouse the people in the great towns to riot and sedition, and, when they found that impossible, spreading exaggerated accounts of the effects of their efforts. a mob was raised in edinburgh, but it was appeased without the loss of life and with no other casualty save the frightening of the provost's wife. there were some eccentric movements among the cameronians, rendered all the more grotesque by the jacobites taking the leadership in them; and some of the more vehement clergy betook themselves to their own special weapons in the holding of a day of humiliation and prayer. ere the whole came to a conclusion, a point was yielded to the presbyterian church of scotland. it was passed as a separate act before the act of union was passed--the separate act stipulating its repetition in any act adopting the treaty of union. it provided for the preservation of the discipline, worship, and ecclesiastical government of the establishment. it was further provided that every sovereign of the united kingdom, on accession to the throne, should make oath in terms of this act. hence it happens that this oath is taken immediately on the accession, the other oaths, including that for the protection of the church of england, being postponed till the ceremony of the coronation. on october , , there came a vote on the passing of the "act ratifying and approving the treaty of union." this was carried in the scots parliament by one hundred ten to sixty-nine. it was the determination of the queen's ministers for england to carry the treaty as it came from scotland, word for word; and they employed all their strength to do so. it was the policy of the english government and their supporters in the matter of the union, to avoid a parliamentary debate upon it clause by clause at st. stephen's. to this end there was an endeavor to give it, as much as in the peculiar conditions could be given, the character of a treaty between two independent powers, each acting through its executive, that executive acknowledging the full power of parliament to examine, criticise, and virtually judge the act done as a whole, but not admitting parliamentary interference with the progress of the details. if there were an illogicality in the essence of a treaty where the executive--the queen--was the common sovereign of both realms, the difficulty could be discarded as a pedantry, in a constitutional community where the sovereign acts through responsible advisers. some slight touches of apprehension were felt in england when it was seen that the scots estates were not only voting the separate articles, but in some measure remodelling them. the estates were taking the privilege naturally claimed by the weaker party to a bargain in protecting themselves while it was yet time. when all was adjusted, england, as the vast majority, could correct whatever had been done amiss in the preliminary adjustment of her interests, but poor scotland would be entirely helpless. there was another reason for tolerating the alterations, in their being directed to the safety and completeness of the legal institutions left in the hands of scotland untouched, as matters of entire indifference to england; still it weakened the hands of those who desired to evade a parliamentary discussion on the several articles in england that this had been permitted in scotland, and had become effective in the shape of amendments. john johnston, who had been for some time secretary of state for scotland--a son of the celebrated covenanting hero archibald johnston of warriston--was then in london carefully looking at the signs of the times. he wrote to scotland, saying: "you may, i think, depend on it that the alterations you have hitherto made will not break the union; but if you go on altering, it's like your alterations will be altered here, which will make a new session with you necessary, and in that case no man knows what may happen." all is well as yet (january th), and if there be no more serious alterations the english ministers will be able to give effect to their resolution "to pass the union here without making any alterations at all." by what had been usually called a message from the throne, the attention of parliament was directed to the treaty as it had come from scotland, but the matter being of supreme importance the queen was her own messenger. from the commons she had to ask for a supply to meet the equivalent. to both houses she said: "you have now an opportunity before you of putting the last hand to a happy union of the two kingdoms, which i hope will be a lasting blessing to the whole island, a great addition to its wealth and power, and a firm security to the protestant religion. the advantages that will accrue to us all from a union are so apparent that i will add no more, but that i shall look upon it as a particular happiness if this great work, which has been so often attempted without success, can be brought to perfection in my reign." the opportunity was taken to imitate the scots in a separate preliminary act "for securing the church of england as by law established." there was a desultory discussion in both houses, with a result showing the overwhelming strength of the supporters of the union. in the house of lords there were some divisions, and among these the largest number of votes mustered by the opposition was twenty-three, bringing out a majority of forty-seven by seventy votes for the ministry. the conclusion of the discussion was a vote of approval by each house. the opposition, however, did not adopt their defeat. they were preparing to fight the battle over again, clause by clause, when a bill was brought in to convert the articles of union into an act of parliament. the english house of commons has always been supremely tolerant to troublesome and even mischievous members, so long as they adhere to the forms of the house--forms to be zealously guarded, since they were framed for averting hasty legislation and the possible domination of an intolerant majority. it was determined, however, that the impracticals and impedimenters should not have their swing on this occasion, when the descent of a french army to gather to its centre the jacobitism still lingering in the country darkened the political horizon. both houses had a full opportunity for discussing the merits of every word in the treaty, and the risk of national ruin was not to be encountered because they had not expended all their loquacity, having expected another opportunity. the tactic for evading the danger was credited to the ingenuity of sir simon harcourt, the attorney-general. the two acts of ecclesiastical security and the articles of the treaty were all recited in the preamble of the bill under the command of the mighty "whereas," the enacting part of the act was dropped into a single sentence, shorter than statutory sentences usually are. the opposition might throw out the measure, and the ministry with it, if they had strength to do so; but there had been sufficient discussion on the clauses, and there should be no more. in the descriptive words of burnet: "this put those in great difficulties who had resolved to object to several articles, and to insist on demanding several alterations in them, for they could not come at any debate about them; they could not object to the recital, it being mere matter of fact; and they had not strength enough to oppose the general enacting clause; nor was it easy to come at particulars and offer provisos relating to them. the matter was carried on with such zeal that it passed through the house of commons before those who intended to oppose it had recovered out of the surprise under which the form it was drawn in had put them." there was thus but one question, that the bill do pass, and the opposition had not reaped encouragement to resist so great an issue. the lords had, in their usual manner of dignified repose, managed to discuss the clauses, but it was rather a conversation, to see that all was in right order, and that no accident had happened to a measure of so vital moment, than a debate. on march , , the queen came to the house of lords, and in a graceful speech gave the royal assent to the act. %downfall of charles xii at poltava% triumph of russia a.d. k. waliszewski[ ] [footnote : translated from the russian by lady mary loyd.] the battle of poltava was selected by sir edward creasy as one of the fifteen great decisive contests which have altered the fate of nations. his able narrative of the battle has been superseded in scholars' eyes by the more modern work of the great russian authority, waliszewski; but the importance of the event remains. it reversed the positions of sweden and russia in european politics, and placed russia among the great countries of the modern world; sweden among the little ones. before sweden still held the rank to which gustavus adolphus had raised her in the thirty years' war. her prestige had been a little dimmed by the victories of the "great elector" of prussia; but her ally louis xiv had saved her from any considerable diminution of the extensive territories which she held on the mainland to the south and east of the baltic sea. about the young and gallant warrior, charles xii, the "madman of the north," reasserted her prowess, made her once more the dictator of northern europe, one of the five great powers of the world. meanwhile peter the great was progressing but slowly with his transformation of russia. his people had little confidence in him; his armies were half-barbaric hordes. when he ventured into war against sweden europe conceived but one possible result: these undisciplined barbarians would be annihilated. at first the expected occurred. again and again large russian armies were defeated by small bodies of swedes; but with splendid tenacity peter persisted in the face of revolt at home and defeat abroad. "the swedes shall teach us to beat them" was his famous saying, and at poltava he achieved his aim. from that time forward russia's antagonism to her leader disappeared. his people followed him eagerly along the path to power. it would appear that it was not till peter's visit to vienna, in , that he conceived the idea of attacking sweden. up till that time his warlike impulse had rather been directed southward, and the turk had been the sole object of his enmity. but at vienna he perceived that the emperor, whose help he had counted on, had failed him, and forthwith the mobile mind of the young czar turned to the right-about. a war he must have of some kind, it little mattered where, to give work to his young army. the warlike instincts and the greed of his predecessors, tempted sometimes by the black sea, sometimes by the baltic and the border provinces of poland, had, indeed, always swung and turned back and forward between the south and the north. these alternate impulses, natural enough in a nation so full of youth and strength, have, since those days, been most unnecessarily idealized, erected into a doctrine, and dignified as a work of unification. it must be acknowledged that every nation has at one time or the other thus claimed the right to resume the national patrimony at the expense of neighboring peoples, and peter, by some lucky fate, remained in this respect within certain bounds of justice, of logic, and of truth. absorbed and almost exhausted, as he soon became, by the desperate effort demanded by his war in the north, he forgot or imperilled much that the conquering ambition of his predecessors had left him in the south and west. he clung to the territory already acquired on the polish side, retired from the turkish border, and claimed what he had most right, relatively speaking, to claim in the matter of resumption, on his northwestern frontier. on that frontier the coast country between the mouth of the narva, or narova, and that of the siestra, watered by the voksa, the neva, the igora, and the louga, was really an integral part of the original russian patrimony. it was one of the five districts (_piatiny_) of the novgorod territory, and was still full of towns bearing slavonic names, such as korela, ojeshek, ladoga, koporie, iamy, and ivangrod. it was not till that the czar michael feodorovitch, during his struggle with gustavus adolphus, finally abandoned the seacoast for the sake of keeping his hold on novgorod. but so strong was the hope of recovering the lost territory, in the hearts of his descendants, that, after the failure of an attempt on livonia, in alexis' reign, a boyar named ordin-nashtchokin set to work to build a number of warships at kokenhausen, on the dvina, which vessels were intended for the conquest of riga. peter had an impression, confused it may be, but yet powerful, of these historic traditions. this is proved by the direction in which he caused his armies to march after he had thrown down the gauntlet to sweden. he strayed off the path, swayed, as he often was, by sudden impulses, but he always came back to the traditional aim of his forefathers--access to the sea, a baltic port, "a window open upon europe." his interview with augustus ii at rawa definitely settled his wavering mind. the _pacta conventa_, signed by the king of poland when he ascended his throne, bound him to claim from the king of sweden the territories which had formerly belonged to the republic of poland. for this end the help of denmark could be reckoned on. the treaty of roeskilde ( ), which had been forced on frederick iii, weighed heavily on his successors, and the eager glances fixed by the neighboring states on holstein, after the death of christian albert, in , threatened to end in quarrel. there were fair hopes, too, of the help of brandenburg. when sweden made alliance with louis xiv and madame de maintenon, that country abandoned its historic position in germany to prussia. but sweden still kept some footing, and was looked on as a rival. further, augustus had a personal charm for peter sufficient in itself to prove how much simplicity, inexperience, and boyish thoughtlessness still existed in that half-polished mind. the polish sovereign, tall, strong, and handsome, an adept in all physical exercises, a great hunter, a hard drinker, and an indefatigable admirer of the fair sex, in whose person debauch of every kind took royal proportions, delighted the czar and somewhat overawed him. he was more than inclined to think him a genius, and was quite ready to bind up his fortunes with his friend's. at the end of four days of uninterrupted feasting, they had agreed on the division of the spoils of sweden, and had made a preliminary exchange of arms and clothing. the czar appeared at moscow a few weeks later wearing the king of poland's waistcoat and belted with his sword. in the beginning of augustus and frederick of denmark attacked sweden; but peter, though bound by treaty to follow their example, neither moved nor stirred. frederick was beaten, his very capital was threatened. so much the worse for him! augustus seized on dunamunde, but utterly failed before riga. all the better for the russians; riga was left for them! another envoy came hurrying to moscow. the czar listened coolly to his reproaches, and replied that he would act as soon as news from constantinople permitted it. negotiations there were proceeding satisfactorily, and he hoped shortly to fulfil his promise, and to attack the swedes in the neighborhood of pskof. this was a point on which the allies had laid great stress, and peter had studiously avoided contradicting them. it was quite understood between them that the czar was not to lay a finger on livonia. at last on august , , a courier arrived with the longed-for dispatch. peace with turkey was signed at last, and that very day the russian troops received their marching orders. but they were not sent toward pskof. they marched on narva, in the very heart of the livonian country. the army destined to lay siege to narva consisted of three divisions of novel formation, under the orders of three generals--golovin, weyde, and repnin--with , cossacks, and some irregular troops-- , men in all. repnin's division, numbering , men, and the little russian cossacks, stopped on the way, so that the actual force at disposal was reduced to about , men. but charles xii, the new king of sweden, could not bring more than infantry and cavalry to the relief of the town. and, being obliged, when he neared wesemburg, to throw himself in flying column across a country which was already completely devastated, and, consequently, to carry all his supplies with him, his troops arrived in presence of an enemy five times as numerous as themselves, worn out, and completely exhausted by a succession of forced marches. peter never dreamed that he would find the king of sweden in livonia. he believed his hands were more than full enough elsewhere with the king of denmark; he was quite unaware that the peace of travendal, which had been signed on the very day of the departure of the russian troops, had been already forced upon his ally. he started off gayly at the head of his bombardier company, full of expectation of an easy victory. when he arrived before the town, on september d, he was astounded to find any preparations for serious defence. a regular siege had to be undertaken, and when, after a month of preparations, the russian batteries at last opened fire, they made no impression whatever. the artillery was bad, and yet more badly served. a second month passed, during which peter waited and hoped for some piece of luck, either for an offer to capitulate or for the arrival of repnin's force. what did happen was that on the night of november th news came that within twenty-four hours the king of sweden would be at narva. that very night peter fled from his camp, leaving the command to the prince de croy. none of the arguments brought forward by the sovereign and his apologists in justification of this step appears to me to hold water. the necessity pleaded for an interview with the duke of poland, the czar's desire to hasten on repnin's march, are mere pitiful excuses. langen and hallart, the generals sent by augustus to observe the military operations in livonia, gravely reported that the czar had been obliged to go to moscow to receive a turkish envoy--who was not expected for four months! the emperor's envoy, pleyer, is nearer the mark when he says the sovereign obeyed the entreaties of his advisers, who considered the danger too great for him to be permitted to remain. and hallart himself, speaking of these same counsellors, whether ministers or generals, does not hesitate to declare, in his rough soldierly language, that "they have about as much courage as a frog has hair on his belly." the russian army, disconcerted by the unexpected resistance of the swedes, ill-prepared for resistance, ill-commanded, ill-lodged, and ill-fed, was already demoralized to the last extent. the arrival of charles caused a panic, and from that panic peter, the most impressionable of men, was the first to suffer. the startling rapidity with which charles had rid himself of the weakest of his three adversaries, under the very walls of copenhagen, would have been less astonishing to peter if the young sovereign had better realized the conditions under which he and his allies had begun a struggle in which, at first sight, their superiority appeared so disproportionate. king frederick had reckoned without the powers which had guaranteed the recent treaty of altona, by which the safety of holstein was insured; without the hanoverian troops, and those of luneburg, which at once brought succor to toeningen; without the anglo-dutch fleet, which forced his to seek shelter under the walls of copenhagen, and thus permitted the king of sweden to cross the sound unmolested, and land quietly in zealand; and finally, he reckoned--and for this he may well be excused--without that which was soon to fill all europe with terror and amazement: the lucky star and the military genius of charles xii. this monarch, born in , who had slain bears when he was sixteen, and at eighteen was a finished soldier, greedy for glory and battle and blood, was the last representative of that race of men who, between the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, held all central europe in their iron grip; fierce warriors who steeped germany and italy in fire and blood, fought their way from town to town, and hamlet to hamlet; giving no truce and showing no mercy; who lived for war and by war; grew old and died in harness in a very atmosphere of carnage, with bodies riddled with wounds, with hands stained with abominable crimes, but with spirits calm and unflinching to the last. standing on the threshold of the new period he was the superb and colossal incarnation of that former one, which, happily for mankind, was to disappear in his person. count guiscard, who as envoy from the king of france accompanied him on his first campaign, describes him thus: "the king of sweden is of tall stature; taller than myself by almost a head; he is very handsome, he has fine eyes and a good complexion, his face is long, his speech a little thick. he wears a small wig tied behind in a bag, a plain stock, without cravat, a very tight jerkin of plain cloth, with sleeves as narrow as our waistcoat sleeves, a narrow belt above his jerkin, with a sword of extraordinary length and thickness, and almost perfectly flat-soled shoes--a very strange style of dress for a prince of his age." in order to reach narva with his eight thousand men, charles, after having crossed a tract of desert country, was obliged, at a place called pyhaioggi, to cross a narrow valley divided by a stream, which, if it had been fortified, must have stopped him short. the idea occurred to gordon, but peter would not listen to him, and it was not till the very last moment that he sent sheremetief, who found the swedes just debouching into the valley, received several volleys of grape-shot and retired in disorder. the mad venture had succeeded. but charles' farther advance involved the playing of a risky game. his men were worn out, his horses had not been fed for two whole days. still he went on; he reached narva, formed his swedes into several attacking columns, led one himself, and favored by a sudden hurricane which drove showers of blinding snow into his adversaries' faces, threw himself into their camp and mastered the place in half an hour. the only resistance he met was offered by the two regiments of the guard. all the rest fled or surrendered. a few russians were drowned in the narva. "if the river had been frozen," said charles discontentedly, "i do not know that we should have contrived to kill a single man." it was a total breakdown; the army had disappeared, and the artillery. the very sovereign was gone, and with him the country's honor. that had sunk out of sight amid the scornful laughter with which europe hailed this undignified defeat. the czar was in full flight. all peter's plans of conquest, his dreams of european expansion and of navigating the northern seas, his hopes of glory, his faith in his civilizing mission, had utterly faded. and he himself had collapsed upon their heaped-up ruins. onward he fled, feeling the swedish soldiers on his heels. he wept, he sued for peace, vowing he would treat at once and submit to any sacrifice; he sent imploring appeals to the states-general of holland, to england and to the emperor, praying for mediation. but swiftly he recovered possession of his faculties. then, raising his head--through the golden haze with which his insufficient education, the infatuation inherent to his semi-oriental origin, and his inexperience, had filled his eyes, through the rent of that mighty catastrophe and that cruel lesson--he saw and touched the truth at last! he realized what he must set himself to do if he was to become that which he fain would be. there must be no more playing at soldiers and sailors; no more of that farce of power and glory, in which, till now, he had been the chief actor; no more aimless adventure, undertaken in utter scorn of time and place. he must toil now in downright earnest; he must go forward, step by step; measure each day's effort, calculate each morrow's task, let each fruit ripen ere he essayed to pluck it; learn patience and dogged perseverance. he did it all. he found means within him and about him to carry out his task. the strong, long-enduring, long-suffering race of which he came endowed him with the necessary qualities, and gave him its own inexhaustible and never-changing devotion and self-sacrifice. ten armies may be destroyed, he will bring up ten others to replace them, no matter what the price. his people will follow him and die beside him to the last man, to the last morsel of bread snatched from its starving jaws. a month hence, the fugitive from narva will belong to a vanished, forgotten, almost improbable past; the future victor of poltava will have taken his place. of the russian army, as it had originally taken the field, about twenty-three thousand men remained--a certain number of troops--the cavalry under sheremetief's command, and repnin's division. the czar ordered fresh levies. he melted the church-bells into cannon. in vain the clergy raised the cry of sacrilege; he never faltered for a moment. he went hither and thither giving orders and active help; rating some, encouraging others, inspiring everyone with some of his own energy--that energy which his misfortune had spurred and strengthened. yet, byzantine as he was by nature, he could not resist the temptation to endeavor to mislead public opinion. matvieief was given orders to draw up his own special description of the battle of narva and its consequences, for the benefit of the readers of the _gazette de hollande_ and of the memoranda which he himself addressed to the states-general. the swedes, according to this account, had been surrounded by a superior force within the russian camp, and had there been forced to capitulate; after which event, certain russian officers, who had desired to pay their respects to the king of sweden, had been treacherously seized by his orders. europe only laughed, but in later years this pretended capitulation, and the supposed swedish violation of it, were to serve peter as a pretext for violating others, to which he himself had willingly consented. at vienna, too, count kaunitz listened with a smile while prince galitzin explained that the czar "needed no victories to prove his military glory." yet, when the vice-chancellor inquired what conditions the czar hoped to obtain from his victorious adversary, the russian diplomat calmly claimed the greater part of livonia, with narva, ivangrod, kolyvan, koporie, and derpt--and future events were to prove that he had not asked too much. before long this boldness began to reap its own reward. to begin with, charles xii made no immediate attempt to pursue his advantage on russian soil; peter had the joy of seeing him plunge into the depths of the polish plains. the king of sweden's decision, which, we are told, did not tally with his generals' opinion, has been severely criticised. guiscard thought it perfectly justifiable, so long as the king had not rid himself of augustus, by means of the peace which this prince appeared more than willing to negotiate, through the mediation of guiscard himself. but charles turned a deaf ear to the french diplomat's prayers and remonstrances. he feared, declared guiscard, "he might run short of enemies," and as he could not advance on russia and leave the saxons and poles in his rear, he desired--and here doubtless he was right--first of all to insure his line of communication, and of possible retreat. thus, by his own deed, he strengthened and cemented an alliance which had already been shaken by common defeat. augustus, repulsed by the swedish king, threw himself into peter's arms, and in february, , the common destinies of the czar and the king of poland were once more bound together. a fresh treaty was signed at the castle of birze, close to dunaburg. the year was a hard one for peter. the junction between the army, which he had contrived after some fashion to put on a war footing, and the saxon troops of augustus, only resulted in the complete defeat of the allied forces under the walls of riga, on july d. in the month of june the moscow kremlin caught fire; the state offices (_prikaz_) with their archives, the provision-stores, and palaces, were all devoured by the flames. the bells fell from the tower of ivan the great, and the heaviest, which weighed over a hundred tons, was broken in the fall. but in midwinter sheremetief contrived to surprise schlippenbach with a superior force, and defeated him at erestfer, december th. peter's delight, and his wild manifestations of triumph, may easily be imagined. he did not content himself with exhibiting the few swedish prisoners who had fallen into his hands at moscow, in a sort of imitation roman triumph; his practical mind incited him to make use of them in another way, and cornelius von bruyn, who had lived long enough in the country to be thoroughly acquainted with its customs, calmly reports that the price of war captives, which had originally been three or four florins a head, rose as high as twenty and thirty florins. even foreigners now ventured to purchase them, and entered into competition in the open market. on july , , sheremetief won a fresh victory over schlippenbach-- , russians defeated swedes. according to peter's official account of the battle, of his enemies were left dead on the field, while sheremetief lost only men. this report made europe smile, but the livonians found it no laughing matter. volmar and marienburg fell into the hands of the victor, who ravaged the country in the most frightful fashion. the russians had not as yet learned any other form of warfare, and, as we may suppose, the idea that he might ever possess these territories had not yet occurred to peter. his mind, indeed, was absorbed elsewhere. his old fancies and whims were strong upon him, and he left apraxin to rage on the banks of the neva, in ingria, on the very spot where his future capital was to stand, while he himself gave all his time and strength to the building of a few wretched ships at archangel. it was not till september, when the ice had driven him out of the northern port, that he returned to the west and took up his former course. he reached the lake of ladoga, sent for sheremetief, and the end he was to pursue for many a long year seems at last to have taken firm root in his hitherto unstable mind. he laid siege to noteburg, where he found a garrison of only four hundred fifty men, and on december , , he rechristened the little fortress he had captured, by a new and symbolic name, "schluesselburg" (key of the sea). next came the capture of nienschantz, at the very mouth of the neva, in april, , a personal success for the captain of bombardiers, peter mikhailoff, who there brought his batteries into play. a month later the artilleryman had become a sailor, and had won russia's first naval victory. two regiments of the guard manned thirty boats, surrounded two small swedish vessels, which, in their ignorance of the capture of nienschantz, had ventured close to the town, took possession of them, and murdered their crews. the victor's letters to his friends are full of the wildest and most childish delight, and there was, we must admit, some reason for this joy. he had reconquered the historic estuary, through which, in the ninth century, the first varegs had passed southward, toward grecian skies. on the th of the following may wooden houses began to rise on one of the neighboring islets. these houses were to multiply, to grow into palaces, and finally to be known as st. petersburg. peter's conquests and newly founded cities disturbed charles xii but little. "let him build towns; there will be all the more for us to take!" peter and his army had so far, where charles was concerned, had to do only with small detachments of troops, scattered apart and thus foredoomed to destruction. the russians took advantage of this fact to pursue their successes, strengthening and intrenching themselves both in ingria and livonia. in july, , peter was present at the taking of derpt. in august he had his revenge for his disaster at narva, and carried the town after a murderous assault. already in november, , a longed-for guest had appeared in the mouth of the neva, a foreign trading-vessel laden with brandy and salt. menshikoff, the governor of _piterburg_, entertained the captain at a banquet, and presented him with five hundred florins for himself, and thirty crowns for each of his sailors. meanwhile charles xii tarried in poland, where augustus' affairs were going from bad to worse. a diet convened at warsaw in february, , proclaimed his downfall. after the disappearance of james sobieski, whose candidature was put a stop to by an ambuscade, into which the dethroned king lured the son of the deliverer of vienna, charles, who was all-powerful, put forward that of stanislaus lesczynski. though he gave little thought just then to russia and to the russian sovereign, the czar was beginning to be alarmed as to the consequences which the swedish king's position in poland and in saxony might entail on himself. charles was sure to end by retracing his steps, and an encounter between sheremetief and loewenhaupt, at hemauerthorf in courland (july , ), clearly proved that the russian army, unless in the case of disproportionate numerical superiority over the enemy, was not yet capable of resisting well-commanded swedish troops. on this occasion sheremetief lost all his infantry and was himself severely wounded. what then was peter to do? he must work on, increase his resources, and add to his experience. if sheremetief and his likes proved unequal to their task, he must find foreign generals and instructors, technical and other; he must keep patience, he must avoid all perilous encounters, he must negotiate, and try to obtain peace, even at the price of parting with some of the territory he had conquered. the years between and were busy ones for him. a treaty of peace among his enemies took him by surprise and found him quite unprepared. he soon made good his mistakes, took a swift decision, and adopted the course which was infallibly to bring him final victory. he evacuated poland, retired backward, and, pushing forward the preparations which charles' long stay in saxony had permitted him to carry on with great activity, he resolved that the battle should be fought on his ground, and at his chosen time. he took fresh patience, he resolved to wait, to wear out his adversary, to draw back steadily and leave nothing but a void behind him. thus he would force the enemy to advance across the desert plains he had deliberately devastated, and run the terrible risk, which had always driven back the ancient foes of his country, whether turks, tartars, or poles--a winter sojourn in the heart of russia. this was to be the final round of the great fight. the czar, as he expressed it, was to set ten russians against every swede, and time and space and cold and hunger were to be his backers. charles, the most taciturn general who ever lived, never revealed the secret inspiration which drove him to play his adversary's game, by marching afresh on grodno. during he seemed to give the law to europe, from his camp in saxony. france, which had been vanquished at blenheim and ramillies, turned a pleading glance toward him, and the leader of the victorious allies, marlborough himself, solicited his help. charles may have had an idea of making grodno his base for a spring attack on the czar's new conquests in the north. this supposition would seem to have been the one accepted by peter, if we may judge by the orders given, just at this time, to insure the safety of livonia and ingria, by completing their devastation; and these very orders may have induced the king of sweden to abandon his original design, in favor of another, the wisdom of which is still contested by experts, but which, it cannot be denied, was of noble proportions. charles, too, had found an ally to set against those natural ones with which russia had furnished the czar, and he had found him within the borders of the czar's country. the name of this ally was mazeppa. the stormy career of the famous hetman, so dramatic, both from the historic and domestic point of view--from that adventure with the _pan_ falbowski, so naively related by pasek, down to the romance with matrena kotchoubey, which colored the last and tragic incidents of his existence--is so well known that i will not narrate it here, even in the concisest form. little russia was then passing through a painful crisis--the consequence of shmielnicki's efforts at emancipation, which had been warped and perverted by russian intervention. the polish lords, who formerly oppressed the country, had been replaced by the cossacks, who not only ground down the native population, but railed at and quarrelled with their own chief. the hetmans and the irregular troops were at open war, the first striving to increase their authority and make their power hereditary, the others defending their ancient democratic constitution. the swedish war increased mazeppa's difficulties. he found himself taken at a disadvantage between the claims of the czar, who would fain have his cossacks on every battle-field in poland, russia, and livonia, and the resistance of the cossacks themselves, who desired to remain in their own country. being himself of noble polish birth, brought up by the jesuits, having served king john casimir of poland, and sworn allegiance to the sultan, he saw no reason for sacrificing his interests, much less his life, for peter's benefit. the approach of charles xii made him fear he might, like his predecessor nalevaiko, be deserted by his own followers, and given up to the poles. the appearance of charles on the russian frontier forced him to a definite resolution, and, in the spring of , his emissaries appeared at radoshkovitse, southeast of grodno, where charles had established his head-quarters. the king of sweden's idea, at that decisive moment, would seem to have been to take advantage of the hetman's friendly inclination, to find his way into the heart of russia, using the rich southern provinces as his base, to stir up, with mazeppa's help, the don cossacks, the astrakhan tartars, and, it may have been, the turks themselves, and thus attack the muscovite power in the rear. then peter would have been forced back upon his last intrenchments, at moscow or elsewhere, while general luebecker, who was in finland with fourteen thousand men, fell on ingria and on st. petersburg, and leszcynski's polish partisans, with general krassow's swedes, held poland. it was a mighty plan, indeed, but at the very outset it was sharply checked. mazeppa insisted on certain conditions, and these conditions charles thought too heavy. the hetman agreed that poland should take the ukraine and white russia, and that the swedes should have the fortresses of mglin, starodoub, and novgorod-sievierski, but he himself insisted on being apportioned polotsk, vitebsk, and the whole of courland, to be held in fief. thus the negotiations were delayed. meanwhile charles, perceiving that he was not strong enough to make a forward movement, made up his mind to send for loewenhaupt, who was in livonia, and who was to bring him sixteen thousand men and various stores. but the swedish hero had not reckoned fairly with distance and with time. many precious days, the best of the season, fled by before his orders could be obeyed. and, for the first time, he showed signs of uncertainty and irresolution which were all too quickly communicated to those under his command. loewenhaupt grew slower than usual. luebecker slackened his activity, and mazeppa began to play his double game again: prudently preparing his cossacks to revolt, in the name of the ancient customs, national privileges, and church laws, which peter's reforms had infringed; fortifying his own residence at batourin, and accumulating immense stores there, but still continuing to pay court to the czar, wearing the german dress, flattering the sovereign's despotic taste by suggesting plans which would have annihilated the last vestiges of local independence, and accepting gifts sent him by menshikoff. and so the summer passed away. a winter campaign became inevitable, and the abyss which peter's unerring eye had scanned began to gape. it was not till june that charles xii left radoshkovitse, and marched eastward to borisov, where he crossed the berezina. menshikoff and sheremetief made an attempt to stop him, on july d, as he was crossing a small river called the bibitch, near holovtchin. a night manoeuvre, and a wild bayonet charge, led by the king himself, carried him once more to victory. the town of mohilef opened its gates to the swedes, but there charles was forced to stay, and lose more time yet waiting for loewenhaupt. he marched again, early in august, in a southerly direction, and his soldiers soon found themselves in the grip of one of peter's allies. they were driven to support themselves by gathering ears of corn, which they ground between two stones. sickness began to thin their ranks. their three doctors, so the fierce troopers said, were "brandy, garlic, and death"! loewenhaupt had reached shklof, and was separated from the invading army by two streams, the soja and the dnieper, between which peter had taken up his position. the swedish general, after having successfully passed the dnieper, was met at liesna, on october th, by a force three times as large as his own, and peter was able, on the following day, to report a complete victory to his friends: " men dead on the field, without mentioning those the kalmucks have hunted into the forest, and prisoners!" according to this reckoning, loewenhaupt, who could not have brought more than , troops into action, should have been left without a man; as a matter of fact, he reached charles with , after a flank march which all military experts consider a marvel. but, not being able to find a bridge across the soja, he was forced to abandon his artillery and all his baggage, and he led his starving troops into a famine-stricken camp. there was bad news, too, from ingria, where luebecker had also been defeated, losing all his baggage and three thousand first-class troops. charles grew so disconcerted that he is reported to have confessed to gyllenkrook, his quartermaster-general, that he was all at sea, and no longer had any definite plan. on october d he reached mokoshin on the desna, on the borders of the ukraine, where he had expected to meet mazeppa. but the old leader broke his appointment. he still desired to temporize and was loath to take any decisive resolution. he was driven to take one at last, by the cossacks about him, who were alarmed at the idea of the russians following the swedes into the ukraine. it would be far better, so they thought, to join the latter against the former. one of these cossacks, voinarovski, who had been sent by the hetman to menshikoff, had returned with most terrifying news. he had overheard the german officers on the favorite's staff, speaking of mazeppa and his followers, say: "god pity those poor wretches; to-morrow they will all be in chains!" mazeppa, when he heard this report, "raged like a whirlwind," hurried to batourin to give the alarm, and then crossed the desna and joined the swedish army. it was too late. the popular sentiment, on which both he and charles had reckoned to promote an insurrectionary movement, confused by the tergiversations and the ambiguous actions of the hetman, had quite gone astray and lost all consistency. all mazeppa could reckon upon was a body of two thousand faithful troops; not enough even to defend batourin, which menshikoff snatched from him a few days later--thus depriving the swedish army of its last chance of revictualling. when the fortresses of starodoub and novgorod-sievierski closed their gates against him, the whole of the ukraine slipped from the grasp of the turncoat chief and his new allies. his effigy was first hung and then dragged through the streets of glouhof in peter's presence; another hetman, skoropadski, was appointed in his place, and then came winter--a cruel winter, during which the very birds died of cold. by the beginning of charles' effective strength had dwindled to nearly twenty thousand men. the russians did not dare to attack him as yet, but they gathered round him in an ever-narrowing circle. they carried his advanced posts, they cut his lines of communication. the king of sweden, to get himself mere elbow-room, was driven to begin his campaign in the month of january. he lost one thousand men and forty-eight officers in taking the paltry town of wespjik (january th). by this time the game, in mazeppa's view, was already lost, and he made an attempt to turn his coat again; offering to betray charles into peter's hands if peter would restore him his office. the bargain was struck, but a letter from the old traitor, addressed to leszcynski, chanced to fall into the czar's hands, and made him draw back, in the conviction that mazeppa was utterly unreliable. in march, the near approach of the swedish army, then advancing on poltava, induced the zaporoje cossacks to join it. but the movement was a very partial one, and peter soon put it down, by means of a series of military executions, mercilessly carried out by menshikoff, and of various manifestoes against the foreign heretics, "who deny the doctrines of the true religion, and spit on the picture of the blessed virgin." the capture of poltava thus became the last hope of charles and his army. if they could not seize the town, they must all die of hunger. the fortifications of the place were weak, but the besieging army was sorely changed from that which had fought under the walls of narva. it had spent too long a time in fat quarters, in saxony and poland, to be fit to endure this terrible campaign. like the russian army at narva, it was sapped by demoralization before it was called on to do any serious fighting. even among the swedish staff, and in the king's intimate circle, all confidence in his genius and his lucky star had disappeared. his best generals, rehnskold and gyllenkrook, his chancellor piper, and mazeppa himself were against any prolongation of the siege, which promised to be a long one. "if god were to send down one of his angels," he said, "to induce me to follow your advice, i would not listen to him!" an ineradicable illusion, the fruit of the too easy victories of his early career, prompted him to undervalue the forces opposed to him. he knew, and would acknowledge, nothing of that new russia, the mighty upstanding colossus, which peter had at last succeeded in raising up in his path. according to some authorities, mazeppa, in his desire to replace batourin by poltava, as his own personal appanage, encouraged him in this fatal resolution. but it may well have been that retreat had already become impossible. it was long before peter made up his mind to intervene; he was still distrustful of himself, desperately eager to increase his own resources, and with them his chances of victory. on his enemy's side, everything contributed to this result. by the end of june all the swedish ammunition was exhausted, the invaders could use none of their artillery and hardly any of their fire-arms, and were reduced to fighting with cold steel. on the very eve of the decisive struggle, they were left without a leader. during a reconnaissance on the banks of the vorskla, which ran between the hostile armies, charles, always rash and apt to expose himself unnecessarily, was struck by a bullet. "it is only in the foot," he said, smiling, and continued his examination of the ground. but, when he returned to camp he fainted, and peter, reckoning on the moral effect of the accident, at once resolved to cross the river. a report, as a matter of fact, ran through the swedish camp that the king, convinced of the hopelessness of the situation, had deliberately sought death. yet ten more days passed by, in the expectation of an attack which the russians did not dare to make. it was charles who took action at last, informing his generals, on june th (july th) that he would give battle on the following morning. he himself was still in a very suffering condition, and made over the command to rehnskold, a valiant soldier but a doubtful leader, for he did not possess the army's confidence, and, according to lundblad, "hid his lack of knowledge and strategical powers under gloomy looks and a fierce expression." after the event, as was so commonly the case with vanquished generals, he was accused of treachery. the truth would seem to be that charles' obstinate reserve, and habit of never confiding his plans and military arrangements to any third person, had ended by gradually depriving his lieutenants of all power of independent action. in his presence they were bereft of speech and almost of ideas. all rehnskold did was to rage and swear at everyone. peter, meanwhile, neglected nothing likely to insure success. he even went so far as to dress the novgorod regiment--one of his best--in the coarse cloth _(siermiaga)_ generally reserved for newly joined recruits, in the hope of thus deceiving the enemy. this stratagem, however, completely failed. in the very beginning of the battle, rehnskold fell on the regiment, and cut it to pieces. the russian centre was confided to sheremetief, the right wing to general ronne, the left to menshikoff. bruce commanded the artillery, and the czar, as usual, retired modestly to the head of a single regiment. but this was a mere disguise; in real fact, he was everywhere, going hither and thither, in the forefront of the battle, and lavishing effort in every direction. a bullet passed through his hat, another is said to have struck him full on the breast. it was miraculously stopped by a golden cross, set with precious stones, given by the monks on mount athos to the czar feodor, and which his successor habitually wore. this cross, which certainly bears the mark of some projectile, is still preserved in the ouspienski monastery, at moscow. the heroism and sovereign contempt of death betrayed by charles were worthy of himself. unable to sit a horse, he caused himself to be carried on a litter, which, when it was shattered by bullets, was replaced by another made of crossed lances. but he was nothing but a living standard, useless, though sublime. the once mighty military leader had utterly disappeared. the battle was but a wild conflict, in which the glorious remnants of one of the most splendid armies that had ever been brought together; unable to use its arms, leaderless, hopeless of victory, and soon overwhelmed and crushed by superior numbers, struggled for a space, with the sole object of remaining faithful to its king. at the end of two hours charles himself left the field of battle. he had been lifted onto the back of an old horse which his father had formerly ridden, and which was called _brandklepper_ ("run to the fire"), because he was always saddled when a fire broke out in the city. this charger followed the vanquished hero into turkey, was taken by the turks at bender, sent back to the king, taken again at stralsund in , returned to its owner once more, and died in --the same year as his master--at the age of forty-two. poniatowski, the father of the future king of poland, who was following the campaign as a volunteer--charles had refused to take any polish troops with him on account of their want of discipline--rallied one of colonel horn's squadrons to escort the king, and received seventeen bullets through his leather kaftan while covering the royal retreat. field marshal rehnskold, piper the chancellor, with all his subordinates, over one hundred fifty officers, and two thousand soldiers fell into the victor's hands. the russians' joy was so extreme that they forgot to pursue the retreating enemy. their first impulse was to sit down and banquet. peter invited the more important prisoners to his own table, and toasted the health of his "masters in the art of war." the swedes, who still numbered thirteen thousand men, had time to pause for a moment in their own camp, where charles summoned loewenhaupt, and, for the first time in his life, was heard to ask for advice--"what was to be done?" the general counselled him to burn all wagons, mount his infantry soldiers on the draught-horses and beat a retreat toward the dnieper. on june th the russians came up with the swedish army at perevolotchna, on the banks of the river, and, the soldiers refusing to fight again, loewenhaupt capitulated; but the king had time to cross to the other side. two boats lashed together carried his carriage, a few officers, and the war-chests which he had filled in saxony. mazeppa contrived to find a boat for himself, and loaded it with two barrels of gold. at kiev, whither peter proceeded from poltava, a solemn thanksgiving was offered up in the church of st. sophia, and a little russia monk, feofan prokopovitch, celebrated the recent victory in a fine flight of eloquence: "when our neighbors hear of what has happened, they will say it was not into a foreign country that the swedish army and the swedish power ventured, but rather into some mighty sea! they have fallen in and disappeared, even as lead is swallowed up in water!" the sweden of gustavus adolphus had indeed disappeared. charles xii was ere long to be a mere knight-errant at bender. the cossack independence, too, was a thing of the past. its last and all too untrustworthy representative was to die in turkey before many months were out--of despair, according to russian testimony--of poison voluntarily swallowed, according to swedish historians. the poison story has a touch of likelihood about it, for peter certainly proposed to exchange mazeppa's person for that of the chancellor piper. the cause of the leszcynski, too, was dead. it was to be put forward again by france, but for the benefit of france alone; and with the leszcynski cause, poland itself had passed away and lay a lifeless corpse on which the vultures were soon to settle. out of all these ruins rose the russian power, its northern hegemony, and its new european position, which henceforth were daily to increase and reach immense, immoderate proportions. europe played a special part in the festivities which graced the return of the victors to moscow, a few months later. european ideas, traditions, and forms appeared in the triumphal procession, and served as trappings for the trophies of victory. peter, playing the part of hercules, and conquering a swedish juno, in a _cortège_ in which mars figured, attended by furies and by fauns, was a fit symbol of the alliance of russia with the graeco-latin civilization of the west. old muscovy--eastern and asiatic--was numbered with the dead. %capture of port royal[ ]% france surrenders nova scotia to england a.d. duncan campbell [footnote : from duncan campbell's _history of canada_.] each time that england and france quarrelled in europe their colonies became engaged in strife. in , when william iii fought louis xiv the able governor of canada, frontenac, despatched his indian allies to ravage new england, while with rare military skill he defended himself and his province. he could not, however, prevent the capture of port royal (now annapolis) in nova scotia. this great fortress, the pride of louis xiv, was attacked by the new england colonists under sir william phips, the governor of massachusetts, and was captured by a most dashing attack. when england and france made peace, port royal was restored to the french, much to the dissatisfaction of the english colonists, who saw clearly that as soon as another war arose they would have to make the assault again. during the era of queen anne's war ( - ) french and indian forays and incursions were frequent on the borders of acadia and new england. britain, meanwhile, was desirous of limiting the growth of france in the new world, and, with the provocation that had been given the new england colonies by the murderous raids of the french and abenaquis indians on her towns and border settlements, the english colonists retaliated by attempting, in and , to recapture acadia. they finally succeeded in under general nicholson. the story of this expedition will be found appended in campbell's narrative, as well as the account given of the disastrous failure of admiral sir hovenden walker's formidable expedition in up the st. lawrence with the design of assaulting québec. on the capture by the new england colonies of port royal, and the expulsion of its french garrison, the place became an english fortress and was renamed annapolis royal, in honor of queen anne. in perusing the history of nova scotia, the reader is struck with the frequency with which the country, or, in other words, the forts, passed from the french to the english, and _vice versa_. as a rule, permanent retention was not contemplated. hence we find that when port royal was taken by phips, he departed without leaving a solitary man to defend it. a few days after the expedition had left, the chevalier de villebon, the newly appointed french governor, arrived, and if accompanied by the means, had a favorable opportunity of putting it once more in a state of defence and retaining it as a french stronghold. but phips was not far off, and he therefore deemed it prudent, considering the small force at his disposal, to retire to the river st. john, where he remained for some years, destroying new england vessels and organizing schemes for the consolidation of french authority in the province. in the mean time villebon showed his temper toward the new englanders by building a chapel on the disputed territory, and driving their fishermen from the coast of nova scotia. villebon was succeeded by brouillan, in , and not only was an enemy to the fishermen, but actually afforded protection to pirates who preyed on the trade of massachusetts, which inspired a degree of hostility in new england that, on the accession of queen anne, in , the declaration of war which followed was hailed in that colony with demonstrations of joy. the new englanders had a long catalogue of grievances unredressed, hostile attacks unrevenged, and were more determined than ever to put forth their strength for the expulsion of the french from the province. in a preliminary expedition was despatched by them to the coast of nova scotia, consisting of a ship of forty-two and another of thirty-two guns, a number of transports and whale-boats, on board of which were upward of five hundred men, under the command of colonel church, whose instructions were to destroy settlements, and where dams existed to deluge the cultivated ground and make as many prisoners as possible. one detachment visited minas, and spread desolation and ruin in that fertile region, through which brouillan passed on his way to annapolis, representing the people as living like true republicans, not acknowledging royal or judicial authority, and able to spare eight hundred hogsheads of wheat yearly for exportation, and as being supplied with abundance of cattle. another detachment went to port royal, which they deemed it prudent not to attack. brouillan having died in , m. subercase was appointed governor. in the spring of another expedition was sent from new england to attack port royal. it consisted of twenty-three transports and the province galley, convoyed by a man-of-war of fifty guns, on which were embarked two regiments of militia, under colonels wainwright and hilton. the expedition arrived at the entrance to port royal on june th. a landing was soon effected; but subercase's dispositions for resistance were so able that the english found it impossible to make any impression on the defences, and, after losing eighty men, the troops were reembarked and proceeded to casco bay, from which place the commanders communicated with the governor of new england and waited orders. the failure of the expedition caused great indignation in new england, and the governor immediately resolved to strengthen the army with a hundred recruits and to order a second attack. accordingly the expedition again sailed for port royal, when subercase was in a far more formidable position than formerly. after a siege of fifteen days, in which the english officers displayed unaccountable cowardice, the ships retired, having lost sixteen men, while the french had only three men killed and wounded. subercase immediately proceeded to strengthen his position in anticipation of a third attack. a bomb-proof powder magazine was accordingly constructed, capable of containing sixty thousand pounds of powder, and the fort was otherwise improved. this governor, who had formed a high estimate of the climate, soil, and general resources of the province, was one of the ablest appointed under french rule. he made urgent appeals to the french government to colonize the country on a large scale, pointing out the advantages that would follow; but all his suggestions were disregarded, and he had the mortification, notwithstanding his zeal and personal sacrifices in the service of his country, to receive less encouragement and support from the home government than any of his predecessors. in the year great preparations were made for the conquest of canada and nova scotia. the new york house of assembly sent a petition to queen anne, praying for such assistance as would expel the french entirely from the country. colonel vetch is said to have inspired this application, and to have submitted to the british government a plan of attack. promises of liberal support are said to have been made, which, however, the government was tardy in affording. the command of the new england forces was intrusted to francis nicholson, who was appointed governor of new england, under sir edmund andros, in , being governor of new york in , and in the following year lieutenant-governor of virginia. in he was transferred to the government of maryland, and in sent back to virginia as governor-in-chief, at which time he held the rank of colonel in the army. nicholson was an earnest advocate of a confederation of the british north american provinces for purposes of defence, to which the people of virginia were popularly opposed. nicholson sailed from boston on september , , with a fleet of about thirty-six vessels, including five transports from england, conveying a considerable force, composed of troops supplied by massachusetts, connecticut, new hampshire, and rhode island, which arrived at port royal on september th. subercase was not in a condition to resist so formidable a force; hence we find him writing to the french minister that the garrison is dispirited, and praying for assistance in men and money. the strait to which he was reduced is indicated by the following passage: "i have had means," he says, "by my industry to borrow wherewith to subsist the garrison for these two years. i have paid what i could by selling all my movables. i will give even to my last shirt, but i fear that all my pains will prove useless if we are not succored during the month of march or early in april, supposing the enemy should let us rest this winter." but it was far from the intention of the enemy to let them rest; for three days after the despatch of the communication in which the passage quoted occurred, nicholson sent a summons to the governor requiring the immediate delivery of the fort, and in the event of non-compliance, expressing his resolution to reduce it by force of her majesty's arms. no reply having been sent to the summons, nicholson prepared to land his troops, to which subercase offered no resistance, as he could not trust the garrison beyond the walls of the fort on account of the discontent induced by the universal conviction of their inability to oppose the english, who mustered to the number of upward of three thousand, exclusive of seamen, to which force the governor could not oppose more than three hundred fighting men. in the mean time the garrison became disorganized and many desertions took place, when the governor, yielding to necessity, opened a communication with nicholson with the view to capitulation. the articles were, in the circumstances, highly favorable to the garrison. they provided that the soldiers should march out with their arms and baggage, drums beating and colors flying; that they should be conveyed to rochelle, and that the inhabitants within three miles of port royal should be permitted to remain on their lands, with their corn, cattle, and furniture, for two years, if so disposed, on their taking the oath of allegiance to the queen of great britain. the destitute condition of the garrison was manifested by their tattered garments and absence of provisions necessary to sustain them even for a few days. in conformity with the terms of the capitulation four hundred eighty men in all were transported to rochelle, in france. a garrison, consisting of two hundred marines and two hundred fifty new england volunteers, was left in port royal, under colonel vetch, as governor--general nicholson returning to boston with the fleet. the english, sensible of the disastrous consequences resulting from the policy hitherto adopted of abandoning port royal after having taken repeated possession of it, had now resolved to retain it permanently. the acadians were alarmed at the indications of permanent occupancy which they witnessed, and evinced a degree of hostility which caused the governor to adopt such measures as were calculated to convince them that they must act in virtue of their temporary allegiance to the british crown, as became faithful subjects. the restraints imposed were galling to the french, and they despatched a messenger with a letter to the governor of canada, referring to their general misery under british rule, and praying to be furnished with the means of leaving a country where they could not enjoy absolute freedom, but the letter contained no specific charges. in the hope of regaining the fort, and impressed with the importance in the mean time of intensifying indian hostility to english rule, the canadian governor sent messengers to the french missionaries to exert their influence in that direction. the consequence was that parties sent out to cut wood were attacked, and that travelling beyond the fort was rendered dangerous. eighty men sent from the garrison on that service were attacked by the indians, who killed about thirty of the party, taking the rest prisoners. vaudreuil, the governor of canada, had made preparations to assist in the recapture of the fort, but intelligence of a strong force being in preparation to attack canada prevented the accomplishment of his purpose. general nicholson, on leaving port royal, went to england, for the purpose of inducing the government to adopt measures for the thorough conquest of canada, preparations for that end being in progress in new england. his appeal was cordially responded to, and a fleet of twelve line-of-battle ships, with storeships and transports, and having eight regiments and a train of artillery on board, the whole commanded by admiral walker, left england on april , , arriving in boston, june th. if his formidable force, which consisted of sixty-eight vessels in all, having about six thousand fighting-men on board, left boston on july th, arriving at gaspé, august th, where wood and water were taken in. they sailed thence on the th. the pilots seem to have been incompetent, for on august d the ships got into difficulties in a fog, losing in the gulf of st. lawrence, near egg island, eight transports and eight hundred eighty-four men. at a council of war it was determined to abandon the enterprise, and intelligence of the resolution was sent to general nicholson, who had left albany with an army for the purpose of attacking montreal, and who consequently had the mortification of being obliged to return immediately. on september th the fleet arrived at spanish bay and anchored in front of lloyd's cove. it is questionable if the noble harbor of sydney has ever since presented so lively a spectacle as on this occasion. admiral walker was instructed if he succeeded in taking québec, to attack placentia, in newfoundland, but at a council of war it was declared impracticable to make any attempt against that place, while from the condition of the stronghold it could have been easily taken. on his return walker was the laughing-stock of the nation. literary squibs and pamphlets were showered upon him, and his attempts at a vindication of his conduct only rendered him the more ridiculous. he stood in the estimation of the nation in precisely the same position as sir john cope, the commander of the force sent to attack prince charles edward stuart on his march from the north of scotland, in , to edinburgh, who, after having held a council of war, resolved to march in the opposite direction from that in which the enemy was to be found, and whose consummate folly or cowardice in doing so is a standing national joke. the severe contests in which france and britain were almost continually engaged required occasional breathing-time. hence, notwithstanding the series of brilliant victories gained by marlborough, the war had become unpopular, and the governmental policy had to be assimilated to the national will. france was equally desirous of peace, and no great difficulty was experienced in coming to terms. in the preparation of previous treaties, france had succeeded in making the cession to her of any portion of north american territory wrested from her a fundamental condition of agreement. great britain had hitherto shown a degree of pliability, in yielding to the desire of her great opponent, in this matter, which seems unaccountable, and certainly incompatible with british interests; but the representations of the new englanders as to the impolicy of such procedure were so urgent and unanswerable that the government had resolved that the period of vacillation was past, and that the exercise of firmness in the permanent retention of nova scotia was necessary. hence, in the celebrated treaty of utrecht, in , it was provided that all nova scotia or acadia should be yielded and made over to the queen of great britain and to her crown forever, together with newfoundland, france retaining possession of cape breton. general nicholson, having been appointed governor of nova scotia in , as well as commander-in-chief, queen anne addressed a graceful letter to him, dated june , , in which, after alluding to her "good brother," the french king, having released from imprisonment on board his galleys such of his subjects as were detained there professing the protestant religion, she desired to show her appreciation of his majesty's compliance with her wishes by ordering that all frenchmen in nova scotia and newfoundland who should desire to remain should be permitted to retain their property and enjoy all the privileges of british subjects; and if they chose to remove elsewhere, they were at liberty to dispose of their property by sale ere they departed. meanwhile the acadians, as well as the inhabitants of newfoundland, were pressed by the french governor of louisburg, m. de costabelle, to remove to cape breton, which the great body of the latter did. the acadians, however, could not appreciate the advantages to be gained in removing from the fertile meadows of the annapolis valley to a soil which, however excellent, required much labor to render it fit for cultivation. it appears that they sent a deputation to examine the island and report as to its adaptability for agricultural purposes, for one of their missionaries, addressing m. de costabelle, the governor, says that from the visits made they were satisfied there were no lands in cape breton suitable for the immediate maintenance of their families, since there were not meadows sufficient to nourish their cattle, from which they derived their principal support. he at the same time represents the indians--who had been also desired to remove--as being of opinion that living as they did by the chase, the island was quite insufficient for that purpose, as well as from its narrow limits, equally unfitted for the exercise of their natural freedom. but while declining to leave nova scotia, the acadians expressed a firm determination to continue loyal to the king of france, affirming that they would never take the oath of allegiance to the crown of england, to the prejudice of what they owed to their king, their country, and their religion, and intimating their resolution, in the event of any attempt to make them swerve from their fidelity to france, or to interfere with the exercise of their religion, to leave the country and betake themselves to cape breton, then called the ile royale. and they there remained until , at which time the english and new england colonists finally drove forth and dispersed them with hateful cruelty. %chronology of universal history embracing the period covered in this volume% a.d. - john rudd, ll.d. events treated at length are here indicated in large type; the numerals following give volume and page. separate chronologies or the various nations, and of the careers of famous persons, will be found in the index volume, with volume and page references showing where the several events are fully treated. a.d. % %. execution of the marquis of argyle. burning of the _league and covenant_ by the hangman, in all parts of england. episcopacy restored in scotland. in france louis xiv assumes personal rule; colbert begins his ministry. see "louis xiv establishes absolute monarchy," xii, i. % %. sale of dunkirk to the french by charles ii. passage of a new act of uniformity; ejectment of nonconformist ministers from their livings, in england. a charter given the connecticut and new haven colonies. % %. hungary overrun by the turks under koprili. foundation of the french academy of inscriptions. the carolinas granted by charter to clarendon and others. % %. passage of the conventicle act in england, directed against nonconformists or dissenters. victory of the united forces of germany, france, and italy, under montecucoli, general of leopold i, at st. gotthard, hungary. charles ii grants the territory between the connecticut and james rivers to his brother, james, duke of york; new amsterdam occupied and new netherland taken by the english; new york is the name given to both province and city. james sells a portion of his domain, to which the title of "new caesarea" was first given, afterward changed to new jersey. see "new york taken by the english," xii, . east and west india companies formed in france; colonies planted in cayenne, martinique, guadelupe, ste. lucia, and canada. . continued persecution of dissenters in england by the passage of the five-mile act. war between england and holland. newton invents his methods of fluxions. completion of the union of the connecticut and new haven colonies. death of philip iv; his son, charles ii, ascends the throne of spain. "great plague in london." see xii, . . great naval victory of the english over the dutch, in the downs. resort to arms by the scotch covenanters; they are defeated. "discovery of gravitation." see xii, . war against england declared by france. foundation of the académie des sciences, paris. burning of london. see "great fire in london," xii, . william penn joins the society of friends. . opening of the first fire-insurance office in london. ravages up the medway and thames, england, by the dutch, during negotiations for peace. treaty of breda; peace between england, holland, france, denmark. publication of milton's _paradise lost_. . triple alliance against france formed by england, holland, and sweden. recognition by spain of the independence of portugal. foundation of the mission of sault ste. marie, by father marquette. introduction of the art of dyeing into england by brewer, who fled from flanders before the french invaders. . john locke draws up a constitution for the government of the carolinas. candia surrenders to the turks. expedition of la salle from the st. lawrence to the west. discovery of phosphorus by brandt. . a secret treaty (dover) between charles ii of england and louis xiv of france; charles basely sells his allies, the dutch, and engages himself to become a catholic. incorporation of the hudson bay company. . leopold attempts the subjugation of the liberties of hungary; his drastic methods include the execution of frangepan, nadasdy, and zrinyi. attempt of colonel blood to steal the english crown and regalia from the tower; the king pardons and pensions him. "morgan, the buccaneer, sacks panama." see xii, . building of greenwich observatory. . william iii, prince of orange, has supreme power conferred on him by the dutch. the de witts massacred. see "struggle of the dutch against france and england," xii, . . passage in england of the test act, excluding dissenters and papists from all offices of government. battle of khotin; defeat of the turks by john sobieski. "discovery of the mississippi." see xii, . occupation of new york and new jersey by the dutch. joliet and marquette make discoveries on the upper mississippi. . peace between england and holland; the former regains new netherland. occupation of pondicherry by the french. john sobieski elected to the polish throne. . "king philip's war." see xii, . battle of fehrbellin; the swedes, having invaded brandenburg, are defeated by frederick william. see "growth of prussia under the great elector," xii, . beginning of the building of st. paul's, london, by sir christopher wren. leeuwenhoek discovers animalculae in various waters. . rebellion of bacon in virginia. defeat of the dutch admiral, de ruyter, by the french, under duquesne, off the sicilian coast. building of versailles. . william of orange defeated by the french at casel. freiburg captured by the french. mary, daughter of the duke of york (james ii), marries william of orange. . invention of the popish plot by titus oates. peace of nimeguen between france, spain, and holland. first war between russia and turkey. struggle of the hungarians, under tokolyi, against austria. . persecution of the covenanters in scotland; they take up arms but are defeated by monmouth, at bothwell bridge. murder of the primate, sharp. passage in england of the habeas corpus act. la salle builds the griffon on niagara river. peace of nimeguen between france and the german emperor. . beginning of the captivity of the man with the iron mask. (date uncertain.) execution of viscount strafford for alleged participation in the popish plot. alsace incorporated with french territory. the whig and tory parties first so named in england. . strasburg seized by louis xiv. a patent by the crown granted to william penn. see "william penn receives the grant of pennsylvania," xii, . renewed persecution of protestants in france. first museum of natural history in london. . attempt of louis xiv to seize the duchy of luxemburg. bossuet, in behalf of the french clergy, draws up a declaration which sets forth the liberties of the gallican church. colonizing of pennsylvania by william penn; he founds philadelphia; also, with other friends, purchases east jersey. expedition of la salle to the mouth of the mississippi. see "discovery of the mississippi," xii, . death of czar feodor iii; his sister, sophia, regent in the name of her brothers ivan v, of weak intellect, and peter i (peter the great). % %. a penny-post first established in london, by a private individual. execution in england of lord russell and algernon sidney, for participation in the rye house plot. siege of vienna by the turks. see "last turkish invasion of europe," xii, . attack on the spanish netherlands by louis xiv. % %. forfeiture of the charter of the massachusetts bay company. formation of the holy league by venice, poland, emperor leopold i, and pope innocent xi against the turks. genoa bombarded by the french. louis xiv forcibly occupies luxemburg. an embassy sent from the king of siam to france. publication by leibnitz of his invention of the differential calculus. (see newton, .) % %. death of charles ii; his brother, james ii, ascends the english throne. insurrection of argyle and monmouth; they are both executed. jeffries' bloody assizes. see "monmouth's rebellion," xii, . pillage of the coast of peru by the buccaneers. "revocation of the edict of nantes." see xii, . a demand made for the surrender of connecticut's charter; it is hidden in charter oak. bradford's printing-press arrives in pennsylvania. see "origin and progress of printing," viii, i. % %. attempt of james ii to restore romanism in the british domains; a camp established by him at hounslow heath. revival of the court of high commission. league of augsburg formed by william of orange, by which the principal continental states unite to resist french encroachments. a bloody crusade waged by louis xiv, and victor amadeus ii of savoy, against the waldenses of piedmont. recovery of buda by the austrians from the turks. appointment of sir edmund andros as governor over the consolidated new england colonies. % %. refusal of the university of cambridge to admit francis, a benedictine monk, recommended by james ii. leopold i compels the hungarian diet to make the kingdom hereditary in the hapsburg family. battle of mohacs; defeat of the turks by the duke of lorraine. capture of athens by the venetians. appointment of tyrconnel, a roman catholic, as lord deputy of ireland. publication of newton's _principia_. assumption of power by peter the great, in russia. . louis xiv declares war against holland: he makes war on germany. capture of philippsburg by the french. battle of enniskillen in ireland. landing in england of william of orange, on invitation of the malcontents in that country. see "the english revolution," xii, . new york and new jersey united with new england under governor-general sir edmund andros. . william and mary, she being daughter of the ex-king, are proclaimed king and queen of england. passage of the bill of rights. james ii lands in ireland; he unsuccessfully besieges londonderry: battle of newtown butler, defeat of the irish catholics. great britain joins the league of augsburg. overthrow of andros in new england. see "tyranny of andros in new england," xii, . at the instance of louvois, his war minister, louis xiv lays waste the palatinate. battle of killiecrankie, scotland; defeat of the government forces by the highlanders; claverhouse, their leader, slain. "massacre of lachine, canada." see xii, . "peter the great modernizes russia." see xii, . . battle of the boyne. see "siege of londonderry," xii, . presbyterianism reestablished in scotland. defence of canada by frontenac. james ii leaves ireland and returns to france. destruction of schenectady by the french and indians. conquest of acadia and unsuccessful attempt on québec by the english. john locke publishes his _essay concerning the human understanding_. . overthrow of the jacobites in scotland. battle of salankeman; victory of louis of baden over the turks. execution in new york of jacob leisler. . union of the colonies of plymouth and massachusetts. beginning of the witchcraft mania in new england. see "salem witchcraft trials," xii, . the duchies of hanover and brunswick become an electorate; ernest augustus elector. battle of la hogue; the attempted french invasion of england defeated by the victory of the english and dutch fleets. massacre, at glencoe, of the macdonalds. . defeat of the english fleet, off cape st. vincent, by tourville, admiral of the french fleet. distress in france from famine and the expense of the war with england. founding of the college of william and mary, virginia. bradford's printing-press removed from pennsylvania to new york. see "origin and progress of printing," viii, i. . attacks on the coast of france by the english. death of queen mary, consort of william. cessation of the censorship of the press in england. "establishment of the bank of england." see xii, . peter the great of russia employs brant, a dutch shipwright, to build a vessel at archangel. . peace arranged between france and savoy. azov captured from the turks by peter the great. . on the death of john sobieski the polish crown is purchased by frederick augustus, elector of saxony. . barcelona captured by the french. peace of ryswick between france, holland, england, and spain. election of francis i as king of poland. battle of zenta; crushing defeat of the turks by leopold i. . foundation of calcutta by the english. a scotch colony established on the isthmus of darien: abandoned in . peter the great recalled from england by a revolt of the strelitz guards; he subdues and disbands them. society for propagating christianity formed in london. partition of spain arranged between england, france, and the netherlands. . iberville settles a french colony in louisiana. see "colonization of louisiana," xii, . reduction of the turkish territories in europe, by nearly one-half, arranged by the peace of carlowitz, between turkey, austria, venice, and poland. peter the great introduces the computation of time in russia by the christian era, but adheres to the old style, which still obtains in that country. . russia, poland, and denmark make joint war against sweden. the army of peter the great overwhelmed at narva, by charles xii of sweden. foundation of the future yale college, connecticut. . frederick iii of brandenburg crowns himself king of prussia. see "prussia proclaimed a kingdom," xii, . passage of the act of settlement in england; the hanoverian succession founded. beginning of the war of the spanish succession. charles xii defeats the poles and saxons. . death of william iii; queen anne succeeds to the throne of england. command of the army of the states-general given to marlborough, the english general. battle of vigo; naval victory of the english and dutch over the spaniards and french. beginning of queen anne's war in america. foundation of a french settlement on the mobile river, alabama. charles xii occupies warsaw; he defeats augustus ii at klissow; cracow entered by him. . methuen treaty between england and portugal, for facilitating commerce between those countries. peter the great lays the foundation of st. petersburg. see "founding of st. petersburg," xii, . defeat of augustus ii by charles xii at pultusk. . english conquest of gibraltar from spain. "battle of blenheim." see xii, . at boston is published the first newspaper in the american colonies of england. see "origin and progress of printing," viii, i. sack, burning, and massacre of the inhabitants of deerfield, massachusetts, by french and indians. charles xii completes the subjugation of poland. . failure of the french and spaniards in an attempt to recapture gibraltar. invasion of spain by the english under the earl of peterborough; capture of barcelona. . battle of ramillies; marlborough defeats the french under villeroi. unsuccessful attempt of the french and spaniards on barcelona. birth of benjamin franklin. . sanction of the union of england and scotland by the scotch parliament. see "union of england and scotland," xii, . charles xii subjugates saxony; he dictates the peace of altranstaedt. . russia invaded by charles xii. battle of oudenarde; victory of marlborough and prince eugene over the dukes of burgundy and venddme. . annihilation of the army of charles xii at poltava see "downfall of charles xii," xii, . invasion of sweden by the danes. recovery of poland by augustus ii. . expulsion of the danes from sweden by stenbock. request of the irish parliament for union with that of great britain. "capture of port royal, canada." see xii, . . after further successes in flanders, marlborough is removed from command; the whig ministry falls in england. under walker, the english and new england forces make an unsuccessful attempt on canada. having taken up arms for charles xii, the turks nearly achieve the ruin of peter the great, whose army is hemmed in near the pruth river; peace arranged, the turks recovering azov and other towns. % %. peace conference at utrecht. newspapers come under the operation of the stamp act, in england; so many discontinue publication that it is called the "fall of the leaf." second toggenburg war between the reformed and catholic cantons of switzerland. % %. peace of utrecht ending the war of the spanish succession. great britain acquires newfoundland, nova scotia, gibraltar, minorca, hudson bay, and the isle of st. kitts; with the title of king the duke of savoy is ceded sicily by spain, and by france, savoy and nice with certain fortified places; the king of prussia exchanges the principality of orange and châlons for spanish gelderland, neuchâtel, and valengin; spain cedes to austria, naples, milan, spanish tuscany, and sovereignty over the spanish netherlands; the harbor and fortifications of dunkirk to be destroyed. charles i issues the pragmatic sanction securing succession to the female line in default of male issue. % %. establishment of the clarendon press at oxford, from the profits of clarendon's _history of the rebellion_. death of anne and accession in england of george (i), elector of hanover. capture of barcelona by the french and spanish forces; the citizens deprived of their liberties. fahrenheit invents his thermometer. % %. jacobite rebellion in britain in behalf of the pretender. death of louis xiv; he is succeeded by his great-grandson, louis xv; the duke of orléans regent. a barrier treaty made between austria, england, and holland; it gave the dutch a right to garrison certain places in the austrian netherlands. [illustration: cover] pieces of eight _being the authentic narrative of a treasure discovered in the bahama islands in the year --now first given to the public_ by richard le gallienne [illustration] _frontispiece_ [illustration: "'you young fool!' exclaimed charlie, 'the water round here is thick with sharks!'"] a.l. burt company publishers new york published by arrangement with doubleday, page & company _copyright, , by_ doubleday, page & company _all rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages, including the scandinavian_ copyright, , , by the butterick publishing company life being of the nature both of a treasure-hunt and a piratical expedition, i dedicate this narrative to the following sailing companions of mine on this entertaining old pirate craft we call the earth, in the hope that each may find his treasure, and, at least, escape hanging at the end of the trip--to wit: harry dash johnson, sam nicholson, bert willsie and charley bethel, all engaged in one or another of the piratical professions. prologue _(the following ms., the authorship of which i am not at liberty to divulge, came to me in a curious way. being recently present at a performance of_ "treasure island" _at the punch and judy theatre in new york city, and, seated at the extreme right-hand end of the front row of the stalls--so near to the ground-floor box that its occupants were within but a yard or two of me, and, therefore, very clearly to be seen--i, in common with my immediate neighbours, could not fail to remark the very striking and beautiful woman who was the companion of a distinguished military-looking man on the youthful side of middle age._ _still young, a little past thirty, maybe, she was unusually tall and stately of figure, and from her curious golden skin and massive black hair, one judged her to be a creole, possibly a jamaican. her face, which was rather heavily but finely moulded, wore an expression of somewhat poetic melancholy, a little like that of a beautiful animal, but readily lit up with a charming smile now and again at some sally of her companion, with whom she seemed to be on affectionate terms, and with whom, as the play proceeded, she exchanged glances and whispered confidences such as two who have shared an experience together--which the play seems to bring to mind--are seen sometimes to exchange in a theatre._ _but there was one particular which especially accentuated the singularity of her appearance and was responsible for drawing upon her an interested observation--seemed, indeed, even in her eyes to condone it, for she, as well as her companion, was obviously conscious of it--the two strange-looking gold ornaments which hung from her delicately shaped ears. these continually challenged the eye, and piqued the curiosity. obviously they were two old coins, of thick gold, stamped with an antique design. they were spanish doubloons!_ _as, in common with the rest of the audience, i looked at this picturesque pair, my eyes forsook the lady of the doubloons, and fastened themselves with a half-certainty of recognition upon her companion. why! surely it was ---- ----, an old dare-devil comrade of mine, whose disappearance from new york some ten years before had been the talk of the two or three clubs to which we both belonged. a curious blending of soldier, poet, and mining engineer, he had been popular with all of us, and when he had disappeared without warning we were sure that he was off on some knight-errant business--to mexico or the moon!_ _he was, indeed, wearing that disguise of time, which we all come involuntarily to wear--an unfamiliar greyness of his hair at the temples, and a moustache that would soon be a distinguished white; yet the disguise was not sufficient to conceal the youthful vigour of his personality from one who had known him so well as i. the more i looked at him, the more certain i grew that it was he, and i determined to go round to his box at the conclusion of the second act._ _then, becoming absorbed in the play, i forgot him and his companion of the doubloons for a while, and when i looked for them again, they had vanished. however, a letter in my mail next morning told me that the observation had not been all on my side. my eyes had not deceived me. it was my friend--and, at dinner with him and his lady, next evening, i heard the story of some of those lost years. moreover, he confided to me that a certain portion of his adventures had seemed so romantic that he had been tempted to set them down in a narrative, merely, of course, for the amusement of his family and friends. on our parting, he entrusted me with this manuscript, which i found so interesting that i was able to persuade him to consent to its publication to that larger world which it seemed to me unfair to rob of one of those few romances that have been really lived, and not merely conjured up out of the imaginations of professional romancers._ _his consent was given with some reluctance, for, apart from a certain risk which the publication of the manuscript would entail, it contains also matters which my friend naturally regards as sacred--though, in this respect, i feel sure that he can rely upon the delicacy of his readers. he made it a condition that every precaution should be taken to keep secret the name and identity of his wife and himself._ _therefore, in presenting to the world the manuscript thus entrusted to me, i have made various changes of detail, with the purpose of the more surely safeguarding the privacy of my two friends; but, in all essentials, the manuscript is printed as it came originally into my hands._ r. le g. contents page prologue vii _book i_ out of the constant east the breeze chapter i. introduces the secretary to the treasury of his britannic majesty's government at nassau ii. the narrative of henry p. tobias, ex-pirate, as dictated on his deathbed, in the year of our lord, iii. in which i charter the _maggie darling_ iv. in which tom catches an enchanted fish, and discourses of the dangers of treasure hunting v. in which we begin to understand our unwelcome passenger vi. the incident of the captain vii. in which the sucking fish has a chance to show its virtue viii. in which i once again sit up and behold the sun ix. in which tom and i attend several funerals x. in which tom and i seriously start in treasure hunting xi. an unfinished game of cards _book ii_ the dotted cays, with their little trees i. once more in john saunders's snuggery ii. in which i learn something iii. in which i am afforded glimpses into futurity--possibly useful iv. in which we take ship once more v. in which we enter the wilderness vi. duck vii. more particulars concerning our young companion viii. better than duck _book iii_ across the scarce-awakened sea i. in which we gather shells--and other matters ii. in which i catch a glimpse of a different kind of treasure iii. under the influence of the moon iv. in which i meet a very strange individual v. calypso vi. doubloons vii. in which the "king" dreams a dream--and tells us about it viii. news! ix. old friends x. the hidden creek xi. an old enemy xii. in which the "king" imprisons me with some old books and pictures xiii. we begin to dig xiv. in which i lose my way xv. in which i pursue my studies as a troglodyte xvi. in which i understand the feelings of a ghost! xvii. action xviii. gathering up the threads postscript epilogue by the editor book i _out of the constant east the breeze brings morning, like a wafted rose, across the glimmering lagoon, and wakes the still palmetto trees, and blows adrift the phantom moon, that paler and still paler glows-- up with the anchor! let's be going! o hoist the sail! and let's be going! glory and glee of the morning sea-- ah! let's be going!_ under our keel a glass of dreams still fairer than the morning sky, a jewel shot with blue and gold, the swaying clearness streams and gleams, a crystal mountain smoothly rolled o'er magic gardens flowing by-- over we go the sea-fans waving, over the rainbow corals paving the deep-sea floor; no more, no more would i seek the shore to make my grave in-- _o sea-fans waving_! pieces of eight chapter i _introduces the secretary to the treasury of his britannic majesty's government at nassau, new providence, bahama islands._ some few years ago--to be precise, it was during the summer of --i was paying what must have seemed like an interminable visit to my old friend john saunders, who at that time filled with becoming dignity the high-sounding office of secretary to the treasury of his majesty's government, in the quaint little town of nassau, in the island of new providence, one of those bahama islands that lie half lost to the world to the southeast of the caribbean sea and form a somewhat neglected portion of the british west indies. time was when they had a sounding name for themselves in the world; during the american civil war, for instance, when the blockade-runners made their dare-devil trips with contraband cotton, between nassau and south carolina; and before that again, when the now sleepy little harbour gave shelter to rousing freebooters and tarry pirates, tearing in there under full sail with their loot from the spanish main. how often those quiet moonlit streets must have roared with brutal revelry, and the fierce clamour of pistol-belted scoundrels round the wine-casks have gone up into the still, tropic night. but those heroic days are gone, and nassau is given up to a sleepy trade in sponges and tortoise-shell, and peace is no name for the drowsy tenor of the days under the palm trees and the scarlet poincianas. a little group of government buildings surrounding a miniature statue of queen victoria, flanked by some old spanish cannon and murmured over by the foliage of tropic trees, gives an air of old-world distinction to the long bay street, whose white houses, with their jalousied verandas, ran the whole length of the water-front, and all the long sunny days the air is lazy with the sound of the shuffling feet of the child-like "darky" population and the chatter of the bean-pods of the poincianas overhead. here a handful of englishmen, clothed in the white linen suits of the tropics, carry on the government after the traditional manner of british colonies from time immemorial, each of them, like my friend, not without an english smile at the humour of the thing, supporting the dignity of offices with impressive names--lord chief justice, attorney general, speaker of the house, lord high admiral, colonial secretary and so forth--and occasionally a figure in gown and barrister's wig flits across the green from the little courthouse, where the lord chief justice in his scarlet robes, on a dais surmounted by a gilded lion and unicorn, sustains the majesty of british justice, with all the pomp of westminster or whitehall. my friend the secretary of the treasury is a man possessing in an uncommon degree that rare and most attractive of human qualities, companionableness. he is a quiet man of middle age, an old white-headed bachelor with a droll twinkling expression, speaking seldom, and then in a curious silent fashion, as though the drowsy heat of the tropics had soaked him through and through. with his white hair, his white clothes, his white moustachios, his white eyelashes, over eyes that seem to hide away among quiet mirthful wrinkles, he carries about him the sort of silence that goes with a miller, surrounded by the white dusty quiet of his mill. as we sit together in the hush of his snuggery of an evening, surrounded by guns, fishing-lines, and old prints, there are times when we scarcely exchange a dozen words between dinner and bed-time, and yet we have all the time a keen and satisfying sense of companionship. it is john saunders's gift. companionship seems quietly to ooze out of him, without the need of words. he and you are there in your comfortable arm-chairs, with a good cigar, a whisky-and-soda, or a glass of that old port on which he prides himself, and that is all that is necessary. where is the need of words? and occasionally, we have, as third in those evening conclaves, a big slow-smiling, broad-faced young merchant, of the same kidney. in he drops with a nod and a smile, selects his cigar and his glass, and takes his place in the smoke-cloud of our meditations, radiating, without the effort of speech, that good thing--humanity; though one must not forget the one subject on which now and again the good charlie webster achieves eloquence in spite of himself--duck-shooting. that is the only subject worth breaking the pleasant brotherhood of silence for. john saunders's subject is shark-fishing. duck-shooting and shark-fishing. it is enough. here, for sensible men, is a sufficient basis for life-long friendship, and unwearying, inexhaustible companionship. it was in this peace of john saunders's snuggery, one july evening, in , the three of us being duly met, and ensconced in our respective arm-chairs, that we got on to the subject of buried treasure. we had talked more than usual that evening--talked duck and shark till those inexhaustible themes seemed momentarily exhausted. then it was i who started us off again by asking john what he knew about buried treasure. at this, john laughed his funny little quiet laugh, his eyes twinkling out of his wrinkles, for all the world like mischievous mice looking out of a cupboard, took a sip of his port, a pull at his cigar, and then: "buried treasure!" he said, "well, i have little doubt that the islands are full of it--if one only knew how to get at it." "seriously?" i asked. "certainly. why not? when you come to think of it, it stands to reason. weren't these islands for nearly three centuries the stamping ground of all the pirates of the spanish main? morgan was here. blackbeard was here. the very governors themselves were little better than pirates. this room we are sitting in was the den of one of the biggest rogues of them all--john tinker--the governor when bruce was here building fort montague, at the east end yonder; building it against pirates, and little else but pirates at the government house all the time. a great old time tinker gave the poor fellow. you can read all about it in his 'memoirs.' you should read them. great stuff. there they are," pointing to an old quarto on some well lined shelves, for john is something of a scholar too; "borrow them some time." "yes, but i want to hear more about the treasure," interrupted i, bringing him back to the point. "well, as i was saying, nassau was the rendezvous for all the cut-throats of the caribbean sea. here they came in with their loot, their doubloons and pieces of eight"; and john's eyes twinkled with enjoyment of the rich old romantic words, as though they were old port. "here they squandered much of it, no doubt, but they couldn't squander it all. some of them were thrifty knaves too, and these, looking around for some place of safety, would naturally think of the bush. the niggers keep their little hoards there to this day. fawcett, over at andros, was saying the other night, that he estimates that they have something like a quarter of a million dollars buried in tin cans among the brush over there now--" "it is their form of stocking," put in charlie webster. "precisely. well, as i was saying, those old fellows would bury their hoards in some cave or other, and then go off--and get hanged. their ghosts perhaps came back. the darkies have lots of ghost-tales about them. but their money is still here, lots of it, you bet your life." "do they ever make any finds?" i asked. "nothing big that i know of. a jug full of old coins now and then. i found one a year or two ago in my garden here--buried down among the roots of that old fig tree." "then," put in charlie, "there was that mysterious stranger over at north cay. he's supposed to have got away with quite a pile." "tell me about him," said i. "well, there used to be an old eccentric character in the town here--a half-breed by the name of andrews. john will remember him--" john nodded. "he used to go around all the time with a big umbrella, and muttering to himself. we used to think him half crazy. gone so brooding over this very subject of buried treasure. better look out, young man!"--smiling at me. "he used to be always grubbing about in the bush, and they said that he carried the umbrella, so that he could hide a machete in it--a sort of heavy cutlass, you know, for cutting down the brush. well, several years ago, there came a visitor from new york, and he got thick with the old fellow. they used to go about a lot together, and were often off on so-called fishing trips for days on end. actually, it is believed, they were after something on north cay. at all events, some months afterward, the new yorker disappeared as he had come, and has not been heard from since. but since then, they have found a sort of brick vault over there which has evidently been excavated. i have seen it myself. a sort of walled chamber. there, it's supposed, the new yorker found something or other--" "an old tomb, most likely," interrupted john, sceptically. "there are some like that over at spanish wells." "maybe," said charlie, "but that's the story for what it's worth." as charlie finished, john slapped his knee. "the very thing for you!" he said, "why have i never thought of it before?" "what do you mean, john?" we both asked. "why, down at the office, i've got the very thing. a pity i haven't got it here. you must come in and see it to-morrow." and he took a tantalising sip of his port. "what on earth is it? why do you keep us guessing?" "why, it's an old manuscript." "an old manuscript!" i exclaimed. "yes, an old document that came into my hands a short time ago. charlie, you remember old wicks--old billy wicks--'wrecker' wicks, they called him--" "i should say i do. a wonderful old villain--" "one of the greatest characters that ever lived. oh, and shrewd as the devil. do you remember the story about his--" "but the document, for heaven's sake," i said. "the document first; the story will keep." "well, they were pulling down wicks's own house just lately, and out of the rafters there fell a roll of paper--now, i'm coming to it--a roll of paper, purporting to be the account of the burying of a certain treasure, telling the place where it is buried, and giving directions for finding it--" charlie and i exclaimed together; and john continued, with tantalising deliberation. "it's in the safe, down at the office; you shall see it to-morrow. it's a statement purporting to be made by some fellow on his deathbed--some fellow dying out in texas--a quondam pirate, anxious to make his peace at the end, and to give his friends the benefit of his knowledge." "o john!" said i, "i sha'n't sleep a wink to-night." "i don't take much stock in it," said john. "i'm inclined to think it's a hoax. some one trying to fool the old fellow. if there'd been any treasure, i guess one could have trusted old 'wrecker' wicks to get after it.... but, boys, it's bed-time, anyhow. come down to the office in the morning and we'll look it over." so our meeting broke up for the time being, and taking my candle, i went upstairs, to dream of caves overflowing with gold pieces, and john tinker, fierce and moustachioed, standing over me, a cutlass between his teeth, and a revolver in each hand. chapter ii _the narrative of henry p. tobias, ex-pirate, as dictated on his deathbed, in the year of our lord, ._ the good john had scarcely made his leisurely, distinguished appearance at his desk on the morrow, immaculately white, and breathing his customary air of fathomless repose, when i too entered by one door, and charlie webster by the other. "now for the document," we both exclaimed in a breath. "here it is," he said, taking up a rather grimy-looking roll of foolscap from in front of him. "a little like hurricane weather," said the broadly smiling charlie webster, mopping his brow. the room we were in, crowded with pigeon-holes and dusty documents from ceiling to floor, looked out into an outer office, similarly dreary, and painted a dirty blue and white, furnished with high desks and stools, and railed off with ancient painted ironwork, forlornly decorative, after the manner of an old-fashioned countinghouse, or shipping office. it had something quaintly "colonial" about it, suggesting supercargoes, and west india merchants of long ago. john took a look into the outer office. there was nothing to claim his attention, so he took up the uncouthly written manuscript, which, as he pointed out, was evidently the work of a person of very little education, and began to read as follows: "_county of travas_ "_state of texas_ "_december _ _"i being in very poor health and cannot last long, feeling my end is near, i make the following statement of my own free will and without solicitation. in full exercise of all my faculties, and feel that i am doing my duty by so doing._ _"my friends have shown me much kindness and taken care of me when sick, and for their kindness i leave this statement in their hands to make the best of it, when i will now proceed to give my statement, which is as follows:--_ _"i was born in the city of liverpool, england (on the th day of december ). my father was a seaman and when i was young i followed the same occupation. and it happened, that when, on a passage from spain to the west indies, our ship was attacked by free-traders, as they called themselves, but they were pirates._ _"we all did our best, but were overpowered, and the whole crew, except three, were killed. i was one of the three they did not kill. they carried us on board their ship and kept us until next day when they asked us to join them. they tried to entice us, by showing us great piles of money and telling us how rich we could become, and many other ways, and they tried to get us to join them willingly, but we would not, when they became enraged and loaded three cannon and lashed each one of us before the mouth of each cannon and told us to take our choice to join them, as they would touch the guns and that dam quick. it is useless to say we accepted everything before death, so we came one of the pirates' crew. both of my companions were killed in less time than six months, but i was with them for more than two years, in which time we collected a vast quantity of money from different ships we captured and we buried a great amount in two different lots. i helped to bury it with my own hands. the location of which it is my purpose to point out, so that it can be found without trouble in the bahama islands. after i had been with them for more than two years, we were attacked by a large warship and our commander told us to fight for our lives, as it would be death if we were taken. but the guns of our ship were too small for the warship, so our ship soon began to sink, when the man-of-war ran alongside of our vessel and tried to bore us, but we were sinking too fast, so she had to haul off again, when our vessel sunk with everything on board, and i escaped by swimming under the stern of the ship, as ours sunk, without being seen, and holding on to the ship until dark, when i swam to a portion of the wrecked vessel floating not far away. and on that i floated. the next morning the ship was not seen. i was picked up by a passing vessel the next day as a shipwrecked seaman._ _"and let me say here, i know that no one escaped alive from our vessel except myself and those that were taken by the man-of-war. and those were all executed as pirates,--so i know that no other man knows of this treasure except myself and it must be and is where we buried it until to-day and unless you get it through this statement it will remain there always and do no one any good._ _"therefore, it is your duty to trace it up and get it for your own benefit, as well as others, so delay not, but act as soon as possible._ _"i will now describe the places, locations, marks etc., etc., so plainly that it can be found, without any trouble._ _"the first is a sum of one million and a half dollars--($ , , )--"_ at this point, john paused. we all took a long breath, and charlie webster gave a soft whistle, and smacked his lips. "a million and a half dollars. what ho!" then i, happening to cast my eye through the open door, caught sight of a face gazing through the ironwork of the outer office with a fixed and glittering expression, a face anything but prepossessing, the face of a half-breed, deeply pock-marked, with a coarse hook nose, and evil-looking eyes, unnaturally close together. he looked for all the world like a turkey buzzard, eagerly hanging over offal, and it was evident from his expression, that he had not missed a word of the reading. "there is some one in the outer office," i said, and john rose and went out. "good morning, mr. saunders," said an unpleasantly soft and cringing voice. "good morning," said john, somewhat grumpily, "what is it you want?" it was some detail of account, which, being despatched, the man shuffled off, with evident reluctance, casting a long inquisitive look at us seated at the desk, and john, taking up the manuscript once more resumed: _"... a sum of one million and one half dollars--buried at a cay known as dead men's shoes, near nassau, in the bahama islands."_ "'dead men's shoes!' i don't know any such place, do you?" interrupted charlie. "no, i don't--but, never mind, let's read it through first and discuss it afterwards," and john went on: _"buried at a cay known as dead men's shoes, near nassau, in the bahama islands; about fifty feet ( ft.) south of this dead men's shoes is a rock, on which we cut the form of a compass. and twenty feet ( ft.) east from the cay is another rock on which we cut a cross (x). under this rock it is buried four feet ( ft.) deep._ _"the other is a sum of one million dollars ($ , , ). it is buried on what was known as short shrift island; on the highest point of this short shrift island is a large cabbage wood stump and twenty feet ( ft.) south of that stump is the treasure, buried five feet ( ft.) deep and can be found without difficulty. short shrift island is a place where passing vessels stop to get fresh water. no great distance from nassau, so it can be easily found._ "_the first pod was taken from a spanish merchant and it is in spanish silver dollars._ "_the other on short shrift island is in different kinds of money, taken from different ships of different nations--it is all good money._ "_now friends, i have told you all that is necessary for you to know, to recover these treasures and i leave it in your hands and it is my request that when you read this, you will at once take steps to recover it, and when you get it, it is my wish that you use it in a way most good for yourself and others. this is all i ask._ "_now thanking you for your kindness and care and with my best wishes for your prosperity and happiness, i will close, as i am so weak i can hardly hold the pen._ "_i am, truly your friend,_ henry p. tobias. "henry p. tobias?" said charlie webster. "never heard of him. did you, john?" "never!" and then there was a stir in the outer office. some one was asking for the secretary of the treasury. so john rose. "i must get to work now, boys. we can talk it over to-night." and then, handing me the manuscript: "take it home with you, if you like, and look it over at your leisure." as charlie webster and i passed out into the street, i noticed the fellow of the sinister pock-marked visage standing near the window of the inner office. the window was open, and any one standing outside, could easily have heard everything that passed inside. as the fellow caught my eye, he smiled unpleasantly, and slunk off down the street. "who is that fellow?" i asked charlie. "he's a queer looking specimen." "yes! he's no good. yet he's more half-witted than bad, perhaps. his face is against him, poor devil." and we went our ways, till the evening, i to post home to the further study of the narrative. there seated on the pleasant veranda, i went over it carefully, sentence by sentence. while i was reading, some one called me indoors. i put down the manuscript on the little bamboo table at my side, and went in. when i returned, a few moments afterward, the manuscript was gone! chapter iii _in which i charter the "maggie darling."_ as luck would have it, the loss, or rather the theft, of henry p. tobias's narrative, was not so serious as it at first seemed, for it fortunately chanced that john saunders had had it copied; but the theft remained none the less mysterious. what could be the motive of the thief with whom--quite unreasonably and doubtless unjustly--my fancy persisted in connecting that unprepossessing face so keenly attentive in john saunders's outer office, and again so plainly eavesdropping at his open window. however, leaving that mystery for later solution, john saunders, charlie webster, and i spent the next evening in a general and particular criticism of the narrative itself. there were several obvious objections to be made against its authenticity. to start with, tobias, at the time of his deposition, was an old man--seventy-five years old--and it was more than probable that his experiences as a pirate would date from his early manhood; they were hardly likely to have taken place as late as his fortieth year. the narrative, indeed, suggested their taking place much earlier, and there would thus be a space of at least forty years between the burial of the treasure and his deathbed revelation. it was natural to ask: why during all those years, did he not return and retrieve the treasure for himself? various circumstances may have prevented him, the inability from lack of means to make the journey, or what not; but certainly one would need to imagine circumstances of peculiar power that should be strong enough to keep a man with so valuable a secret in his possession so many years from taking advantage of it. for a long while too the names given to the purported sites of the treasure _caches_ puzzled us. modern maps give no such places as "dead men's shoes" and "short shrift island," but john--who is said to be writing a learned history of the bahamas--has been for a long time collecting old maps, prints, and documents relating to them; and at last, in a map dating back to , we came upon one of the two names. so far the veracity of tobias was supported. "dead men's shoes" proved to be the old name for a certain cay some twenty miles long, about a day and a half's sail from nassau, one of the long string of coral islands now known as the "exuma cays." but of "short shrift island" we sought in vain for a trace. then the details for identification of the sites left something to be desired in particularity. but that, i reasoned, rather made for tobias's veracity than otherwise. were the document merely a hoax, as john continued to suspect, its author would have indulged his imagination in greater elaboration. the very simplicity of the directions argued their authenticity. charlie webster was inclined to back me in this view, but neither of my friends showed any optimism in regard to the possible discovery of the treasure. the character of the brush on the out-islands alone, they said, made the task of search well nigh hopeless. to cut one's way through twenty miles of such stubborn thickets, would cost almost as much in labour as the treasure was worth. and then the peculiar nature of the jagged coral rock, like endless wastes of clinker, almost denuded of earth, would make the task the more arduous. as well look for a particular fish in the sea. a needle in a haystack would be easy in comparison. "all the same," said i, "the adventure calls me; the adventure and that million and a half dollars--and those 'dead men's shoes'--and i intend to undertake it. i am not going to let your middle-aged scepticism discourage me. treasure or no treasure, there will be the excitement of the quest, and all the fun of the sea." "and some duck perhaps," added charlie. "and some shark-fishing for certain," said john. * * * * * the next thing was to set about chartering a boat, and engaging a crew. in this charlie webster's experience was invaluable, as his friendly zeal was untiring. after looking over much likely and unlikely craft, we finally decided on a two-masted schooner of trim but solid build, the _maggie darling,_ feet over all and beam; something under twenty tons, with an auxiliary gasolene engine of horse power, and an alleged speed of knots. a staunch, as well as a pretty, little boat, with good lines, and high in the bows; built to face any seas. "cross the atlantic in her," said the owner. owners of boats for sale always say that. but the _maggie darling_ spoke for herself, and i fell in love with her on the spot. next, the crew. "you will need a captain, a cook, an engineer, and a deck-hand," said charlie, "and i have the captain, and the cook all ready for you." that afternoon we rounded them all up, including the engineer and the deck-hand, and we arranged to start, weather permitting, with the morning tide, which set east about six o'clock on july , . charlie was a little doubtful about the weather, though the glass was steady. "a northeaster's about due," he said, "but unless it comes before you start, you'll be able to put in for shelter at one or two places, and you will be inside the reef most of the way." ship's stores were the next detail, and these, including fifty gallons of gasolene, over and above the tanks and three barrels of water, being duly got aboard, on the evening of july , all was ready for the start; an evening which was naturally spent in a parting conclave in john saunders's snuggery. "why, one important thing you've forgotten," said charlie, as we sat over our pipes and glasses. "think of forgetting that. machetes--and spades and pickaxes. and i'd take a few sticks of dynamite along with you too. i can let you have the lot, and, if you like, we'll get them aboard to-night." "it's a pity you have to give it away that it's a treasure hunt," said john,--"but, then you can't keep the crew from knowing. and they're a queer lot on the subject of treasure, have some of the rummest superstitions. i hope you won't have any trouble with them." "had any experience in handling niggers?" asked charlie. "not the least." "that makes me wish i were coming with you. they are rum beggars. awful cowards, and just like a pack of children. you know about sailing anyhow. that's a good thing. you can captain your own boat, if need be. that's all to the good. particularly if you strike any dirty weather. though they're cowards in a storm, they'll take orders better than white men--so long as they see that you know what you are about. but let me give you one word of advice. be kind, of course, with them--but keep your distance all the same. and be careful about losing your temper. you get more out of them by coaxing--hard as it is, at times. and, by the way, how would you like to take old 'sailor' with you?" "sailor" was a great labrador retriever, who, at that moment, turned up his big head, with a devoted sigh, from behind his master's chair. "rather," i said. so "sailor" was thereupon enrolled as a further addition to the crew. "of course, you needn't expect to start on time," said charlie, with a laugh; "you'll be lucky if the crew turns up an hour after time. but that's all in the game. i know them--lazy beggars." and the morning proved the truth of charlie's judgment. "old tom," the cook, was first on hand. i took to him at once. a simple, kindly old "darky" of "uncle tom's cabin" type, with faithfulness written all over him, and a certain sad wisdom in his old face. "you'll find tom a great cook," said charlie, patting the old man on the shoulder. "many a trip we've taken together after duck, haven't we, tom?" said he kindly. "that's right, suh. that's right," said the old man, his eyes twinkling with pleasure. then came the captain--captain jabez williams--a younger man, with an intelligent, self-respecting manner, somewhat non-committal, business-like, evidently not particularly anxious as to whether he pleased or not, but looking competent, and civil enough, without being sympathetic. next came the engineer, a young hulking bronze giant, a splendid physical specimen, but rather heavy and sullen and not over-intelligent to look at. a slow-witted young animal, not suggesting any great love of work, and rather loutish in his manners. but, he knew his engine, said charlie. and that was the main thing. the deck-hand proved to be a shackly, rather silly effeminate fellow, suggesting idiocy, but doubtless wiry and good enough for the purpose. while they were busy getting up the anchor of the _maggie darling,_ i went down into my cabin, to arrange various odds and ends, and presently came the captain, touching his hat. "there's a party," he said, "outside here, wants to know if you'll take him as passenger to spanish wells." "we're not taking passengers," i answered, "but i'll come and look him over." a man was standing up in a rowboat, leaning against the ship's side. "you'd do me a great favour, sir," he began to say in a soft, ingratiating voice. i looked at him, with a start of recognition. he was my pock-marked friend, who had made such an unpleasant impression on me, at john saunders's office. he was rather more gentlemanly looking than he had seemed at the first view, and i saw that, though he was a half-breed, the white blood predominated. "i don't want to intrude," he said, "but i have urgent need of getting to spanish wells, and there's no boat going that way for a week. i've just missed the mail." i looked at him, and, though i liked his looks no more than ever, i was averse from being disobliging, and the favour asked was one often asked and granted in those islands, where communication is difficult and infrequent. "i didn't think of taking any passengers," i said. "i know," he said. "i know it's a great favour i ask." he spoke with a certain cultivation of manner. "but i am willing, of course, to pay anything you think well, for my food and my passage." i waived that suggestion aside, and stood irresolutely looking at him, with no very hospitable expression in my eyes, i dare say. but really my distaste for him was an unreasoning prejudice, and charlie webster's phrase came to my mind--"his face is against him, poor devil!" it certainly was. then at last i said, surely not overgraciously: "very well. get aboard. you can help work the boat"; and with that i turned away to my cabin. chapter iv _in which tom catches an enchanted fish, and discourses of the dangers of treasure hunting._ the morning was a little overcast, but a brisk northeast wind soon set the clouds moving as it went humming in our sails, and the sun, coming out in its glory over the crystalline waters, made a fine flashing world of it, full of exhilaration and the very breath of youth and adventure, very uplifting to the heart. my spirits, that had been momentarily dashed by my unwelcome passenger, rose again, and i felt kindly to all the earth, and glad to be alive. i called to tom for breakfast. "and you, boys, there; haven't you got a song you can put up? how about 'the _john b._ sails?'" and i led them off, the hiss and swirl of the sea, and the wind making a brisk undertone as we sang one of the quaint nassau ditties: come on the sloop _john b._ my grandfather and me, round nassau town we did roam; drinking all night, ve got in a fight, ve feel so break-up, ve vant to go home. _chorus_ so h'ist up the _john b._ sails, see how the mainsail set, send for the captain--shore, let us go home, let me go home, let me go home, i feel so break-up, i vant to go home. the first mate he got drunk, break up the people trunk, constable come aboard, take him away; mr. john--stone, leave us alone, i feel so break-up, i vant to go home. _chorus_ so h'ist up the _john b._ sails, _etc.,_ _etc._ nassau looked very pretty in the morning sunlight, with its pink and white houses nestling among palm trees and the masts of its sponging schooners, and soon we were abreast of the picturesque low-lying fort, fort montague, that major bruce, nearly two hundred years ago, had had such a time building as a protection against pirates entering from the east end of the harbour. it looked like a veritable piece of the past, and set the imagination dreaming of those old days of spanish galleons and the black flag, and brought my thoughts eagerly back to the object of my trip, those doubloons and pieces of eight that lay in glittering heaps somewhere out in those island wildernesses. we were passing cays of jagged cinder-coloured rock covered with low bushes and occasional palms, very savage and impenetrable. miles of such ferocious vegetation separated me from the spot where my treasure was lying. certainly it was tough-looking stuff to fight one's way through; but those sumptuous words of henry p. tobias's narrative kept on making a glorious glitter in my mind: "_the first is a sum of one million and one half dollars.... the other is a sum of one million dollars.... the first pod was taken from a spanish merchant and it is in spanish silver dollars. the other on short shrift island is in different kinds of money, taken from different ships of different nations ... it is all good money._" in fact i found to my surprise that i had the haunting thing by heart, as though it had been a piece of poetry; and over and over again it kept on going through my head. then tom came up with my breakfast. the old fellow stood by to serve me as i ate, with a pathetic touch of the old slavery days in his deferential, half-fatherly manner, dropping a quaint remark every now and again; as, when drawing my attention to the sun bursting through the clouds, he said, "the poor man's blanket is coming out, sah"--phrases in which there seemed a whole world of pathos to me. presently, when breakfast was over, and i stood looking over the side into the incredibly clear water, in which it seems hardly possible that a boat can go on floating, suspended as she seems over gleaming gulfs of liquid space, down through which at every moment it seems she must dizzily fall, tom drew my attention to the indescribably lovely "sea-gardens" over which we were passing--waving purple fans, fairy coral grottoes, and jewelled fishes, lying like a rainbow dream under our rushing keel. well might the early mariners people such submarine paradises with sirens and beautiful water-witches, and imagine a fairy realm down there far under the sea. as tom and i gazed down lost in those rainbow deeps, i heard a voice at my elbow saying with peculiarly sickening unction: "the wonderful works of god." it was my unwelcome passenger, who had silently edged up to where we stood. i looked at him, with the question very clear in my eyes as to what kind of disagreeable animal he was. "precisely," i said, and moved away. i had been trying to feel more kindly toward him, wondering whether i could summon up the decency to offer him a cigar, but "the wonderful works of god" finished me. "hello! captain," i said presently, pointing to some sails coming up rapidly behind us. "what's this? i thought we'd got the fastest boat in the harbour." "it's the _susan b.,_ sponger," said the captain. the captain was a man of few words. the _susan b._ was a rakish-looking craft with a black hull, and she certainly could sail. it made me feel ashamed to watch how quickly she was overhauling us, and, as she finally came abreast and then passed us, it seemed to me that in the usual salutations exchanged between us there was mingled some sarcastic laughter; no doubt it was pure imagination, but i certainly did fancy that i noticed our passenger signal to them in a peculiar way. i confess that his presence was beginning to get on my nerves, and i was ready to get "edgy" at anything or nothing--an irritated state of mind which i presently took out on george the engineer, who did not belie his hulking appearance, and who was for ever letting the engine stop, and taking for ever to get it going again. one could almost have sworn he did it on purpose. my language was more forcible than classical--had quite a piratical flavour, in fact; and my friend of "the wonderful works of god" looked up with a deprecating air. its effect on george was nil, except perhaps to further deepen his sulks. and this i did notice, after a while, that my remarks to george seemed to have set up a certain sympathetic acquaintance between him and my passenger, the shackly deck-hand being apparently taken in as a humble third. they sat for'ard, talking together, and my passenger read to them, on one occasion, from a piece of printed paper that fluttered in the wind. they listened with fallen lower jaws and occasional attempts to seem intelligent. the captain was occupied with his helm, and the thoughts he didn't seem to feel the necessity of sharing; a quiet, poised, probably stupid man, for whom i could not deny the respect we must always give to content, however simple. his hand was on the wheel, his eyes on the sails and the horizon, and, though i was but a yard away from him, you would have said i was not there at all, judging by his face. in fact, you would have said that he was all alone on the ship, with nothing to think of but her and the sea. he was a sailor, and i don't know what better to say of a man. so for companionship i was thrown back upon tom. i felt, too, that he was my only friend on board, and a vague feeling had come over me that, within the next few hours, i might need a friend. fishing occurred to me as a way of passing the time. "are we going too fast for fishing, tom?" i asked. "not too fast for a barracouta," said tom; so we put out lines and watched the stretched strings, and listened to the sea. after awhile, tom's line grew taut, and we hauled in a -foot barracouta, a bar of silver with a long flat head, all speed and ferocity, and wonderful teeth. "look!" said tom, as he pointed to a little writhing eel-like shape, about nine inches long, attached to the belly of the barracouta. "a sucking fish!" said tom. "that's good luck;" and he proceeded to turn over the poor creature, and cut from his back, immediately below his head, a flat inch and a half of skin lined and stamped like a rubber sole--the device by which he held on to the belly of the barracouta much as the circle of wet leather holds the stone in a school-boy's sling. "now," he said, when he had it clean and neat in his fingers, "we must hang this up and dry it in the northeast wind; the wind is just right--nor'-nor'east--and there is no mascot like it, specially when--" old tom hesitated, with a slyly innocent smile in his eyes. "what is it, tom?" i asked. "have i your permission to speak, sah?" he said. "of course, you have, tom." "well, sar, then i meant to say that this particular part of a sucking fish, properly dried in the northeast wind, is a wonderful mascot--when you're going after treasure." tom looked frightened again, as though he had gone too far. "who said i was going after treasure?" i asked. "aren't you, sah?" replied tom, "asking your pardon?" i looked for'ard where the three delegates seemed to have lost interest for a while in their conversation and the fluttering paper, and appeared to be noticing tom and me. "let's talk it over later on, when you bring me my dinner, tom." later, as tom stood, serving my coffee, i took it up with him again. "what was that you were saying about treasure, tom?" i asked. "well, sar, what i meant was this: that going after treasure is a dangerous business ... it's not only the living you've got to think of--." here tom threw a careful eye for'ard. "the crew, you mean?" he nodded. "but it's the dead too." "the dead, tom?" "yes, sar--the dead!" "all right, tom," i said, "go on." "well, sar," he continued, "there was never a buried treasure yet that didn't claim its victim. not one or two, either. six or eight of them, to my knowledge--and the treasure just where it was for all that. i das'say it sounds all foolishness, but it's true for all that. something or other'll come, mark my word--just when they think they've got their hands on it: a hurricane, or a tidal wave, or an earthquake. as sure as you live, something'll come; a rock'll fall down, or a thunderbolt, and somebody gets killed--and, well, the ghost laughs, but the treasure stays there all the same." "the ghost laughs?" i asked. "eh! of course; didn't you know every treasure is guarded by a ghost? he's got to keep watch there till the next fellow comes along, to relieve sentry duty, so to speak. he doesn't give it away. my no! he dassn't do that. but the minute some one else is killed, coming looking for it, then he's free--and the new ghost has got to go on sitting there, waiting for ever so long till some one else comes looking for it." "but, what has this sucking fish got to do with it?" and i pointed to the red membrane already drying up in tom's hand. "well, the man who carries this in his pocket won't be the next ghost," he answered. "take good care of it for me then, tom," i said, "and when it's properly dried, let me have it. for i've a sort of idea i may have need of it, after all." and just then, old sailor, the quietest member of the crew, put up his head into my hands, as though to say that he had been unfairly lost sight of. "yes, and you too, old chap--that's right. tom, and you, and i." and then i turned in for the night. chapter v _in which we begin to understand our unwelcome passenger._ charlie webster had hinted at a nor'easter--even a hurricane. as a rule, charlie is a safe weather prophet. but, for once, he was mistaken. there hadn't been much of any wind as we made a lee at sunset; but as i yawned and looked out of my cabin soon after dawn, about . next morning, there was no wind at all. there was every promise of a glorious day--calm, still, and untroubled. but for men whose voyaging depended on sails, it was, as the lawyers say, a _dies non._ in fact, there was no wind, and no hope of wind. as i stood out of the cabin hatch, however, there was enough breeze to flutter a piece of paper that had been caught in the mainsail halyard; it fluttered there lonely in the morning. nothing else was astir but it and i, and i took it up in my hand, idly. as i did so, george reared his head for'ard-- "morning, george," i said; "i guess we've got to run on gasolene to-day. no wind in sight--so far as i can see." "that's right, sar," said george, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. presently, he came to me in his big hulking way, and said: "there ain't no gasolene, sir--" "no gasolene?" i exclaimed. "it's run out in the night." "the tanks were filled when we started, weren't they?" i asked. "yes, sir." "we can't have used them up so soon...." "no sir,--but some one has turned the cocks...." i stood dazed for a moment, wondering how this could have happened,--then a thought slowly dawned upon me. "who has charge of them?" i said. george looked a little stupid, then defiant. "i see," i said; and, suddenly, without remembering charlie webster's advice not to lose your temper with a negro--i realised that this was no accident, but a deliberate trick, something indeed in the nature of a miniature mutiny. that fluttering paper i had picked from the halyard lay near my breakfast table. i had only half read it. now its import came to me with full force. i had no firearms with me. having a quick temper, i have made it a habit all my life never to carry a gun--because they go off so easily. but one most essential part of a gentleman's education had been mine, so i applied it instantly on george, with the result that a well-directed blow under the peak of the jaw sent him sprawling, and for awhile speechless, in the cockpit. "no gasolene?" i said. and then my passenger--i must give him credit for the courage--put up his head for'ard, and called out: "i protest against that; it's a cowardly outrage. you wouldn't dare to do it to a white man." "o i see," i rejoined. "so _you_ are the author of this precious paper here, are you? come over here and talk it over, if you've the courage." "i've got the courage," he answered, in a shaking voice. "all right," i said; "you're safe for the present--and, george, who is so fond of sleep, will take quite a nap for a while, i think." "you english brute!" he said. "you english brute!" he had said; and the words had impelled me to invite him aft; for i cannot deny a certain admiration for him that had mysteriously grown up in me. it can only have been the admiration we all have for courage; for, certainly i cannot have suggested that he had any other form of attractiveness. "come here!" i said, "for your life is safe for the time being. i would like to discuss this paper with you." he came and we read it together, fluttering as i had seen it flutter in his fingers as he read it for'ard to the engineer and to the deck-hand. george, meanwhile, was lying oblivious to the rhetoric with which it was plentifully garnished, not to speak of the latin quotations, taking that cure of bleeding, which was the fashionable cure of a not-unintelligent century. it began:-- "think how many we are!--think what we could do! _it isn't either that we haven't intelligence--if only we were to use it. we don't lack leaders--we don't lack courage--we don't lack martyrs; all are ready--_" i stopped reading. "why don't you start then?" i asked. "we have a considerable organisation," he answered. "you have?" i said. "why don't you use it then?" "we're waiting for jamaica," he answered; "she's almost ready." "it sounds a pretty good idea to me," i remarked, "from your point of view. 'from your point of view,' remember, i said; but you mustn't think that yours is mine--not for one moment--o dear no! on the contrary, my point of view is that of the governor of nassau, or his representative, quite near by, at harbour island, isn't it?" my pock-marked friend grew a trifle green as i said this. "we have sails still, remember," i resumed. "george and the lost gasolene are not everything. five hours, with anything of a wind, would bring us to harbour island, and--with this paper in my hand it would be--what do you think yourself?--the gallows?" my friend grew grave at that, and seemed to be thinking hard inside, making resolutions the full force of which i didn't understand till later, but the immediate result of which was a graciousness of manner which did not entirely deceive me. "o" he said, "i don't think you quite mean that. you're impulsive--as when you hit that poor boy down there--" "well," i observed, "i'm willing to treat you better than you deserve. at the same time, you must admit that your manifesto, as i suppose you would call it, is justified neither by conditions nor by your own best sense. you yourself are far more english than you are anything else--you know it; you know how hard it is for white men to live with black men, and--to tell the truth--all they do for them. the mere smell of negroes is no more pleasant to you than it is to many other white men. englishmen have exiled themselves, for absurdly small salaries, to try to make life finer and cleaner for those dark--and, i'll admit, pathetic--barbarians. you can't deny it. and you've too much sense to deny it. so, i'll say nothing about this, if you like" (pointing to the manuscript), "and if the wind holds, put you ashore to-morrow at spanish wells. i like you in spite of myself. is it a bargain?" on this we parted, and, as i thought, with a certain friendliness on both sides. there was no sailing wind, so there was nothing to do but stay where we were all day. the boys fished and lay around; and i spent most of the time in my cabin, reading a novel, and, soon after nine, i fell asleep in a frame of mind unaccountably trustful. i suppose that i had been asleep about three hours when i was disturbed by a tremendous roar. it was sailor (who always slept near me) out on the cockpit with a man under his paws--his jaws at the man's throat. i called him off, and saw that it was my pock-marked friend, with his right hand extended in the cockpit and a revolver a few inches away from it. so far as i knew it was the only firearm on the ship. "let's get hold of that first, sailor," i said, and i slipped it into my hip pocket. "it's too bad that we can't be decent to people, sailor, isn't it? it makes life awfully sad," i said. sailor wagged his tail. the stars were fading on the eastern islands. "wake up, tom," i called, and, "wake up, captain!" meanwhile, i took out the revolver from my hip pocket, and held it over the man i seemed to grow more and more sorry for. "we've not only got a mutiny aboard," i told the captain, "but we've got treason to the british government. do you want to stand for that? or shall i put you ashore with the rest?" unruffled as usual, he had nothing to say beyond "ay, ay, sir!" "take this cord then," i ordered him and tom, "and bind the hands and feet of this pock-marked gentleman here; also of george, engineer; and also of theodore, the deck-hand. bind them well. and throw them into the dingy, with a bottle of water apiece, and a loaf of bread. by noon, we'll have some wind, and can make our way to harbour island, and there i'll have a little talk with the commandant." and as i ordered, all was done. tom and i rowed the dingy ashore, with our three captives bound like three silly fowls, and presently threw them ashore with precious little ceremony, i can tell you; for the coral rock is not all it sounds in poetry. then we got back to the _maggie darling,_ with imprecations in our ears, and particularly the promises of the pock-marked rebel, who announced the certainty of our meeting again. of course we laughed at such threats, but i confess that, as i went down to my cabin and picked up the "manifesto," which had been forgotten in all the turmoil, i could not escape a certain thrill as i read the signature--for it was: "henry p. tobias, jr." chapter vi _the incident of the captain._ as we hoisted the sails and the sun came up in all his glory, the smell of tom's coffee seemed to my prosaic mind the best of all in that beautiful world. i said: "let's give 'em a song, boys,--to cheer 'em up. how about 'delia gone!'?" at this suggestion even the imperturbability of the captain broke into a smile. he was a man hard to move, but this suggestion seemed to tickle him. _some gave a nickel, some gave a dime; i never gave no red cent-- she was no girl of mine. delia gone! delia gone!_ seemed to throw him into convulsions, and i took the helm awhile to give him a chance to recover. the exquisiteness of its appeal to the scoundrels, so securely trussed there on the island we were swiftly leaving behind, seemed to get him to such a degree that i was almost afraid that he might die of laughing, as has been heard of. he laughed as only a negro can laugh, and he kept it going so infectiously that tom and i got started, just watching him. even sailor caught the infection, his big tongue shaking his jaws with the huge joke of it. i don't know what they thought had happened to us, the three poor devils there on the jagged coral rock. at all events the laughter did us good by relieving the tension of our feelings, and when at last we had recovered and the captain was at the wheel again, once more sober as a judge, you couldn't have believed such an outbreak possible of him. the _maggie darling_ was sailing so fast that it hardly seemed necessary to trouble to call at harbour island; but, then, the wind might go down, our adventure was far from over, and gasolene might at any moment be a prime necessity. so we kept her going, with her beautiful sails filled out against the bluest sky you can dream of, and the ripple singing at her bow--the loveliest sight and sound in the world for a man who loves boats and the sea. "is there anything like it, tom?" i asked. "do you read your bible? you should; it's the greatest book in the world." tom hastened to acquiesce. "you remember in the book of job? _three things are wonderful to me, the way of a ship on the sea, the way of an eagle in the air, and the way of a man with a maid._" "ay, ay, sir," said tom, "the way of a ship on the sea--but the way of a man with a maid--" "what's the matter with that, tom?" "they're all very pretty--just like the boat; but you'll not find one near so true. we're better without them, if you ask my advice. a man's all right as long as he keeps on his boat; but the minute he lands--the girls and the troubles begin." "ah! tom," i said; "but i think you told me you've a family--" "yes, sar, but the only good one amongst them is in the churchyard, this fifteen years." "your wife, tom?" "yes, sar, but she was more than a woman. she was a saint. when i talk of women i don't think of her. no; god be kind to her, she is a saint, and i only wait around till she calls me." "tom, allow me to shake hands with you," i said, "and call myself your friend for ever." the tears rolled down the old fellow's cheeks, and i realised how little colour really matters, and how few white men were really as white as tom. and so that night we made harbour island, and met that welcome that can only be met at the lonely ends of the earth. the commandant and the clergyman took me under their wings on the spot, and, though there was a good hotel, the commandant didn't consider it good enough for me. bless them both! i hope to be able some day to offer them the kind of hospitality they brought me so generously in both hands; lonely men, serving god and the british empire, in that apparently god-forsaken outpost of the world. i liked the attitude they took toward my adventure. their comments on "henry p. tobias, jr." and the paper i had with me, were especially enlightening. "the black men themselves," they both agreed, "are all right, except, of course, here and there. it's fellows like this precious tobias, real white trash--the negroes' name for them is apt enough--that are the danger for the friendship of both races. and it's the vein of a sort of a literary idealism in a fellow like tobias that makes him the more dangerous. he's not all to the bad--" "i couldn't help thinking that too," i interrupted. "o! no," they said, "but he's a bit mad, too. that's his trouble. he's got a personal, as well as an abstract, grudge against the british government." "treasure?" i laughed. "how did you know?" they asked. "never mind; i somehow got the idea." "and he thinks that by championing the nigger he can kill two birds, see?" "i see," i said. "i'm sorry i didn't nab him while i had him." "never mind," they rejoined; "if you stick to your present object, you're bound to meet him again and soon. only take a word of advice. have a few guns with you, for you're liable to need them. we're not afraid about nabbing the whole bunch; but we don't want to lose good men going after a bad man. and there's such a thing as having too much courage." "i agree," i remarked. "i'll take the guns all right, but i'm afraid i'll need some more crew. i mean i'll want an engineer, and another deck-hand." and, just as i said this, there came up some one post-haste from the village; some one, too, that wanted the clergyman, as well as me, for my captain was ill, and at the point of death. it was an hour or so after dinner time, and we were just enjoying our cigars. "what on earth can be the trouble?" i said, but, the three of us, including the commandant went. we found the captain lying in his berth, writhing with cramps. "what on earth have you been doing with yourself, cap.?" i asked. "i did nothing, sir, but eat my dinner, and drink that claret you were kind enough to give me." "that half-bottle of claret?" "yes, sir, the very same." "well, there was nothing to hurt you in that," i said. "did you take it half and half with water, as i told you?" "i did indeed, sir." "and what did you eat for your dinner?" "some pigeon-peas, and some rainbow fish." "sure, nothing else?" "god's truth, sir." "it's very funny," i said. and then as he began to writhe and stiffen, i called out to tom: "get some rum, tom, and make it boiling hot, quick--quick!" and tom did. "we must get him into a sweat." very soon we did. then i said to tom: "what do you make out of this smell that's coming from him, tom?" "kerosene, sar," said tom. "i thought the very same," i said. tom beckoned me to go with him to the galley, and showed me several quart bottles of water standing on a shelf. "two of these were kerosene," he said, "and i suppose cap. made a mistake"; for one looked as clear as the other. then i took one of them back to the captain. "was it a bottle like this you mixed with the claret?" i asked. "sure it was, sir," he answered, writhing hard with the cramps. "but my god, man!" i said. "couldn't you tell the difference between that and water?" "i thought it tasted funny, boss, but i wasn't used to claret." and then we had to laugh again, and i thought old tom would die. "a nigger's stomach and his head," said the commandant, "are about the same. i really don't know which is the stronger." and tom started laughing so that i believe, if the wind had been blowing that way, you could have heard him in nassau. the captain didn't die, though he came pretty near to it. in fact, he took so long getting on his feet, that we couldn't wait for him; so we had practically to look out for a new crew, with the exception of tom, and sailor. the commandant proved a good friend to us in this, choosing three somewhat characterless men, with good "characters." "i cannot guarantee them," he said; "that's impossible, but, so far as i know, and the parson'll bear me out, they're all quiet, good-living men. the engineer's in love, and got it bad; he is engaged to be married, and is all the gladder of the good pay you're offering--more than usually comes their way--and that always keeps a man straight, at least until after he's married." the commandant was a splendid fellow, and he had a knowledge of human nature that was almost shakespearean, particularly when you considered the few and poor specimens he had to study it by. as we said good-bye, with a spanking southwest breeze blowing, i could see that he was a little anxious about me. "take care of yourself," he said, "for you must remember none of us can take care of you. there's no settlement where you're going--no telegraph or wireless; you could be murdered, and none of us hear of it for a month, or for ever. and the fellows you're after are a dangerous lot, take my word for it. keep a good watch on your guns, and we'll be on the look out for the first news of you, and anything we can do we'll be there, you bet." and so the _maggie darling_ once more bared her whiteness to the breeze, and the world seemed once more a great world. "it's good to be alive, tom," i said, "on a day like this, though we get killed to-morrow." tom agreed to this, so did sailor; and so, i felt, did the _maggie darling,_ the loveliest, proud-sailed creature that ever leaned over and laughed in the grasp of the breeze. chapter vii _in which the sucking fish has a chance to show its virtue._ the breeze was so strong that we didn't use our engine that day. besides, i wanted to take a little time thinking over my plans. i spent most of the time studying the charts and pondering john p. tobias's narrative, which threw very little light on the situation. there was little definite to go by but his mark of the compass engraven on a certain rock in a wilderness of rocks; and such rocks as they were at that. as i thought of that particular kind of rock, i wondered too about my three friends, trussed like fowls, on their coral rock couches. of course they had long since cut each other free, and were somewhere active and evil-doing; and the thought of their faces seemed positively sweet to me, for of such faces are made "the bright face of danger" that all men are born to love. still the thought of that set me thinking too of my defences. i looked well to my guns. the commandant had made me accept the loan of a particularly expert revolver that was, i could see, as the apple of his eye. he must have cared for me a great deal to have lent it me, and it was bright as the things we love. then i called tom to me: "how about that sucking fish, tom?" i asked. "it's just cured, sar," he said. "i was going to offer it to you this lunch time. it's dried out fine; couldn't be better. i'll bring it to you this minute." and he went and was back again in a moment. "you must wear it right over your heart," he said, "and you'll see there's not a bullet can get near it. it's never been known for a bullet to go through a sucking fish. even if they come near, something in the air seems to send them aside. it's god's truth." "but, tom," i said, "how about you?" "i've worn one here, sar, for twenty years, and you can see for yourself"--and he bared the brown chest beneath which beat the heart that like nothing else in the world has made me believe in god. and so we went spinning along, and, if only i had the gift of words, i could make such pictures of the islands we sailed by, the colours of the waters, the joy of our going--the white coral sand beaches and the big cocoanut palms leaning over them, and the white surges that curled along and along the surf reef, over and over again, running like children to meet each other and join each other's hands, or like piano keys rippling white under some master's fingers. that night we made a good lee, and lay in a pool of stars, very tranquil and alive with travelling lights, great globed fishes filled with soft radiance, and dreaming glimmers and pulsating tremors of glory and sudden errands of fire. sailor and i stayed up quite late watching the wonder in which we so spaciously floated, and of the two of us, i am sure that sailor knew more than i. but one thought i had which i am sure was not his, because it was born of shallower conditions than those with which his instincts have to deal. i thought: what treasure sunk into the sea by whatsoever lost ship--galleons piled up and bursting with the gold and silver of spain, or strange triangular-sailed boats sailing from tripoli with the many-coloured jewels of the east, "ivory, apes, and peacocks"--what treasure sunk there by man could be compared with the treasure already stored there by nature, dropped as out of the dawn and the sunset into these unvisited waters by the lavish hand of god? what diver could hope to distinguish among all these glories the peculiar treasures of kings? we awoke to a dawn that was a rose planted in the sky by the mysterious hand that seems to love to give the fairest thing the loneliest setting. but there was no wind, so that day we ran on gasolene. we had some fifty miles to go to where the narrative pointed, a smaller cay, the cay which it will be remembered was, according to john saunders's old map, known in old days as "dead men's shoes"--but since known by another name which, for various reasons, i do not deem it politic to divulge--near the end of the long cay down which we were running. tom and i talked it over, and thought that it might be all the better to take it easy that day and arrive there next morning, when, after a good night's sleep, we should be more likely to feel rested, and ready to grapple with whatever we had to face. so about twilight we dropped anchor in another quiet bay, so much like that of the night before, as all the bays and cays are along that coast, that you need to have sailed them from boyhood to know one from another. the cove we were looking for, known by the cheery name of dead men's shoes, proved farther off than we expected, so that we didn't come to it till toward the middle of the next afternoon, an afternoon of the most innocent gold that has ever thrown its soft radiance over an earth inhabited for the most part by ruffians and scoundrels. the soft lapping beauty of its little cove, in such odd contrast to its sinister name--sunshine on coral sand, and farther inland, the mangrove trees, like walking laurel stepping out into the golden ripples--ah! i should like to try my hand on the beauty of that afternoon; but we were not allowed to admire it long, for we were far from being alone. "she's changed her paint," said tom, at my elbow. and, looking round, i saw that our rakish schooner with the black hull was now white as a dove; and, in that soft golden water, hardly a foot and a half deep, five shadowy young sharks floated, with outstretched fins like huge bats. our engineer, who was already wading fearlessly in the water, beautifully naked, "shooed" them off like chickens. but it was soon to be evident that more dangerous foes waited for us on the shore. yet there was seemingly nothing there but a pile of sponges, and a few black men. the _susan b._ had changed her colour, it was true, but she was a well-known sponger, and i noticed no one among the group ashore that i recognised. there was one foolish fellow that reminded me of my shackly deck-hand, whom i had always thought out of his mind, standing there on his head on the rocks, and waving his legs to attract attention. "why! there's silly theodore," called out the captain. "look out!" murmured tom at my elbow. "i'm going ashore all the same, tom," i said. "i'm going with you too," said the captain. "you needn't be afraid of me. you're the sort i like. but look after your guns. there's going to be something doing--quiet as it looks." so we rowed ashore, and there was theodore capering in front of a pile of sponges, but no other face that i knew. but there were seven or eight negroes whose looks i took no great liking to. "like some fancy sponges to send home?" said one of these, coming up to me. "cost you five times as much in nassau." "certainly i'd like a few sponges," i said. and then theodore came up to me, looking as though he had lost his mind over the rather fancy silk tie i happened to be wearing. "give me dat!" he said, touching it, like a crazy man. "i can't afford to give you that, theodore." "i'd die for dat," he declared. "take this handkerchief instead;" but, meanwhile, my eyes were opening. "take this instead, theodore," i suggested. "i'd die for dat," he repeated, touching it. his voice and touch made me sick and afraid, just as people in a lunatic asylum make one afraid. "look out!" murmured tom again at my elbow. and just then i noticed, hiding in some bushes of seven-year apple trees, two faces i had good reason to know. i had barely time to pull out the commandant's revolver from my pocket. i knew it was to be either the pock-marked genius or the engineer. but, for the moment, i was not to be sure which one i had hit. for, as my gun went off, something heavy came down on my head, and for the time i was shut off from whatever else was going on. chapter viii _in which i once again sit up and behold the sun._ "which did i hit, tom?" were my first words as i came back to the glory of the world; but i didn't say them for a long time, and, from what tom told me it was a wonder i ever said them at all. "there he is, sar," said tom, pointing to a long dark figure stretched out near by. "i'm afraid he's not the man you were looking for." "poor fellow!" i said; it was george, the engineer; "i'm sorry--but i saw the muzzles of their guns sticking out of the bush there. it was they or me." "that no lie, sar, and, if it hadn't been for that sucking-fish's skin, you wouldn't be here now." "it didn't save me from a pretty good one on the head, tom, did it?" "no, sar, but that was just it--if it hadn't been for that knock on the head, pulling you down just that minute, that thar pock-marked fellow would have got you. as it was, he grazed your cheek, and got one of his own men killed by mistake--the very fellow that hit you. there he is--over there." "and who's that other, tom?" i asked, pointing to another dark figure a few yards away. "that's the captain, sar." "the captain? o i'm sorry for that. god knows i'm sorry for that." "yas, sar, he was one of the finest gentlemen i ever knowed was captain tomlinson; a brave man and a good navigator. and he'd taken a powerful fancy to you, for when you got that crack on the head, he picked up your gun, and began blazing away, with words i should never have expected from a religious man. the others, except our special friend--" "let's call him tobias from now on, tom," i interposed. "well him, sar, kept his nerve, but the others ran for the boats as if the devil was after them; but the captain's gun was quicker, and only four of them got to the _susan b._ the other two fell on their faces, as if something had tripped them up, in a couple of feet of water. but, just then, tobias hit the captain right in the heart; ah! if only he had one of those skins--but he always laughed off such things as superstitious. "there was only me and tobias then, and the dog, for the engineer boy had gone on his knees to the _susan b._ fellows, at the first crack, and begged them to take him away with them. i wouldn't have thought it of him--for he wasn't afraid o' them sharks, sar, as you saw, but i suppose it was thinking of his gal--anyway he went off a-praying and blubbering with what was left of the crew of the _susan b.,_ who seemed too scared to notice him, and so let him come; and, as i was saying, there was no one left but tobias and the dog and me, and i was sure my end was not far off, for i was never much of a shot. "as god is my witness, sar, i was ready to die, and there was a moment when i thought that the time had come and martha was calling me; but tobias suddenly walked away to the top of the bluff and called out to the _susan b._ that was just running up her sails. at his word, they put out a boat for him, and, while he waited, he came down the hill towards me and the dog that stood growling over you; and for sure, i thought it was the end. but he said: 'tell that fellow there that i'm not going to kill a defenceless man. he might have killed me once but he didn't. it's bound to be one of us some day or other, but despise me all he likes--i'm not such carrion as he thinks me; and if he only likes to keep out of my way, i'm willing to keep out of his. tell him, when he wakes up, that as long as he gives up going after what belongs to me--for it was my grandfather's--he is safe, but the minute he sets his foot or hand on what is mine, it's either his life or mine.' and then he turned away and was rowed to the _susan b.,_ and they soon sailed away." "with the black flag at the peak, i suppose, tom," said i. "well, that was a fine speech, quite a flight of oratory, and i'm sure i'm obliged to him for the life that's still worth having, in spite of this ungodly aching in my head. but how about the poor captain there! where does all his eloquence come in there? he can't call it self-defence. they were waiting ready to murder us all right behind that seven-year apple tree, as you saw. i'm afraid the captain and the law between them are all that is necessary to cook the goose of our friend henry p. tobias, jr., without any help from me--though, as the captain died for me, i should prefer they allowed me to make it a personal matter." and then i got on my feet, and went and looked at the captain's calm face. "it's the beginning of the price," said tom. "the beginning of the price?" "it's the dead hand," continued tom; "i told you, you'll remember, that wherever treasure is there's a ghost of a dead man keeping guard, and waiting till another dead man comes along to take up sentry duty so to say." "that's what you said, tom," i admitted. "several men have been killed, it's true, but no one's put his hand on the treasure." "all the worse for that!" replied tom, shaking his head. "these are only a beginning. the ghost is getting busy. and it makes me think that we're coming pretty near to the treasure, or we wouldn't have had all this happen." "growing warm, you mean, as the children say?" "the very thing!" said tom. "mark me, the treasure's near by--or the ghost wouldn't be so malicious." and then, looking around where the captain, and the engineer and silly theodore lay, i said: "the first thing we've got to do is to bury these poor fellows; but where," i added, "are the other two that fell in the water?" "o," said tom, "a couple of sharks got them just before you woke up." chapter ix _in which tom and i attend several funerals._ when tom and i came to look over the ground with a view to finding a burial-place for the dead, i realised with grim emphasis the truth of charlie webster's remarks--in those snuggery nights that seemed so remote and far away--on the nature of the soil which would have to be gone over in quest of my treasure. no wonder he had spoken of dynamite. "why, tom," i said, "there isn't a wheel-barrow load of real soil in a square mile. we couldn't dig a grave for a dog in stuff like this," and, as i spoke, the pewter-like rock under my feet clanged and echoed with a metallic sound. it was indeed a terrible land from the point of view of the husbandman. no wonder the government couldn't dispose of it as a gift. it was a marvel that anything had the fierce courage to grow on it at all. for the most part it was of a grey clinker-like formation, tossed, as by fiery convulsions, in shelves of irregular strata, with holes every few feet suggesting the circular action of the sea--some of these holes no more than a foot wide, and some as wide as an ordinary-sized well--and in these was the only soil to be found. in them the strange and savage trees--spined, and sown thick with sharp teeth--found their rootage, and writhed about, splitting the rock into endless cracks and fissures with their fierce effort--sea-grape, with leaves like cymbal-shaped plates of green metal; gum-elemi trees, with trunks of glistening bronze; and seven-year apples, with fruit like painted wood. here and there was a thatch-palm, stunted, and looking like the head-dress of some savage african warrior. inland, the creek, all white sand and golden sunny water at its opening, spread out far and near into noisome swamps overgrown with mangroves. those strangest of all trees, that had something tender and idyllic as they stepped out into the ripple with their fresh child-like laurel-line leaves and dangling rods of emerald, that were really the suckers of their banyan-like roots, had grown into an obscene and bizarre maturity, like nightmares striding out in every direction with skeleton feet planted in festering mud, and stretching out horned, clawing hands that seemed to take root as one looked, and to throw out other roots of horror like a dream. twilight was beginning to add to its suggestions of _diablerie,_ and the whole land to seem more and more the abode of devils. "come along, tom, i can't stand any more of this. we'll have to leave our funerals till to-morrow, and get aboard for the night"--for the _maggie darling_ was still floating there serenely, as though men and their violence had no existence on the planet. "we'd better cover them up, against the turkey-buzzards," said tom, two of those unsavory birds rising in the air as we returned to the shore. we did this as well as we were able with rocks and the wreckage of an old boat strewn on the beach, and, before we rowed aboard--tom, and sailor, and i--we managed to shoot a couple of them,--_pour encourager les autres._ i don't think two men were ever so glad of the morning, driving before it the haunted night, as tom and i; and sailor seemed as glad as ourselves, for he too seemed to have been troubled by bad dreams, and woke me more than once, growling and moaning in his sleep in a frightened way. after breakfast, our first thought was naturally to the sad and disagreeable business before us. "i tell you what i've been thinking, sar," said tom, as we rowed ashore, and i managed to pull down a turkey-buzzard that rose at our approach--happily our coverings had proved fairly effective--"i've been thinking that the only one of the three that really matters is the captain, and we can find sufficient soil for him in one of those big holes." "how about the others?" "why, to tell the truth, i was thinking that sharks are good enough for them." "they deserve no better, tom, and i think we may as well get rid of them first. the tide's running out strong and we won't have them knocking about for long." so it was done as we said, and carrying them by the feet and shoulders to the edge of the bluff--george, and silly theodore, and the nameless giant who had knocked me down so opportunely--we skilfully flung them in, and they glided off with scarce a splash. "see that fin yonder!" cried tom eagerly; and next minute one of the floating figures was drawn under. "got him already!" (with a certain grim satisfaction). "that's what i call quick work." then we turned to the poor captain, and carried him as gently as we could over the rough ground to the biggest of the banana holes, as the natives call them, and there we were able to dig him a fairly respectable grave. "do you know the funeral service, tom?" i asked. "no, sar, can't say as i do, though i seem to have heard it pretty often." "wait a minute. i've got a bible aboard, i'll go and get it." "i'd rather go with you, sar, if you don't mind." "why, you're surely not frightened of the poor fellow here, are you, tom?" "well, sar, i don't say as i'm exactly that; but somehow he seems kind of lonesome; and, if you don't mind--" so we went off, and were back in a few moments with the bible, and i read those passages, from job and the psalms, immemorially associated with the passage of the dead: _"man, that is born of woman, is of few days, and full of trouble. he cometh forth like a flower, and is cut down: he fleeth also as a shadow, and continueth not--;_ and again: _behold thou hast made my days as a hand-breadth: and mine age is as nothing before thee: verily every man at his best state is altogether vanity. surely every man walketh in a vain show: surely they are disquieted in vain: he heapeth up riches, and knoweth not who shall gather them. when thou with rebukes dost correct man for iniquity, thou makest his beauty to consume away like a moth: surely every man is vanity. have mercy, o lord, and give ear unto my cry: hold not thy peace at my tears, for i am a stranger with thee, and a sojourner, as all my fathers were--."_ and, by the time we had got to the end, our tears were falling like rain into a brave man's grave. chapter x _in which tom and i seriously start in treasure hunting._ tom and sailor and i were now, to the best of our belief, alone on the island, and a lonesomer spot it would be hard to imagine, or one touched at certain hours with a fairer beauty--a beauty wraith-like and, like a sea-shell, haunted with the marvel of the sea. but we, alas!--or let me speak for myself--were sinful, misguided men, to whom the gleam and glitter of god's making spoke all too seldom, and whose hearts were given to the baser shining of such treasure as that of which i for one still dreamed--with an obstinacy all the more hardened by the opposition we had encountered, and by the menace of danger the enterprise now held beyond peradventure--a menace, indeed, to which tobias's words had given the form of a precise challenge. perhaps but for that, remembering the count of so many dead men--men who had lost their lives in the prosecution of my probably vain desire--i would have given the whole thing up, and sailed the boat back to less-haunted regions, which tom and i might easily have done, and as tom, i could plainly see, would himself have preferred. but tobias's challenge made such a course impossible for any man worthy of the name, and i never gave the alternative a moment's consideration. but i did give tom his choice of staying or going--a choice made possible that day by a schooner sailing close in shore and easy to signal. yet tom, while making no secret of his real feelings, would not hear of quitting. "i sha'n't think a cent worse of you, tom," i assured him. "indeed, i won't. it's no doubt a mad business anyway, and i'm not sure i've the right to endanger in it any other lives than my own." "no, sar," said tom; "i came with you, you have treated me right, and i am going to see you through." "you're the real thing; god bless you, tom," i exclaimed. "but i doubt if i've the right to take advantage of your goodness. i'm not sure that i oughtn't to signal those fellows to take you off with them willy-nilly." "no, sar, you wouldn't do that, i'm sure. i'm a free man, god be praised, though my mother and father were slaves"--and he drew himself up with pathetic pride--"and i can choose my own course, as they couldn't. besides, there's no one needs me at home; all my girls and boys are well fixed; and if i have to go, perhaps there's some one needs me more in heaven." "all right, tom, and thank you; we'll say no more about it." and so we let the schooner go by, and turned to the consideration of our plans. first we went over our stores, and, thanks to those poor dead mouths that did not need to be reckoned with any more, we had plenty of everything to last us for at least a month, not to speak of fishing, at which tom was an expert. when, however, we turned to our plans for the treasure-hunting, we soon came to a dead stop. no plans seemed feasible in face of that rocky wilderness, all knives to the feet, and writhing serpents of fanged and toothed foliage to the eye, with brambles like barbed-wire fences at every yard. the indications given by tobias seemed, in the face of such a terrain, naïve to a degree. possibly the land had changed since his day. some little, of course, it must have done. tom and i went over tobias's directions again and again. of course, there was the compass carved on the rock, and the cross. there was something definite--something which, if it was ever there at all, was there still--for in that climate the weather leaves things unperished almost as in egypt. sitting on the highest bluff we could find, tom and i looked around. "that compass is somewhere among these infernal rocks--if it ever was carved there at all--that's one thing certain, tom; but look at the rocks!" over twenty miles of rocks north and south, and from two to six from east to west. a more hopeless job the mind of man could not conceive. tom shook his head, and scratched his greying wool. "i go most by the ghost, sar," he said. "all these men had never been killed if the ghost hadn't been somewhere near. it's the ghost i go by. mark me, if we find the treasure it'll be by the ghost." "that's all very well," i laughed. "but how are we going to get the ghost to show his hand? he's got such bloodthirsty ways with him." "they always have, sar," said tom, no doubt with some ancestral shudder of voodoo worship in his blood. "yes, sar, they always cry out for blood. it's all they've got to live on. they drink it like you and me drink coffee or rum. it's terrible to hear them in the night." "why, you don't mean to say you've heard them drinking it, tom," i asked. "that's all nonsense." "they'll drink any kind,--any they can get hold of,--chickens' or pigs' or cows'; you can hear them any night near the slaughterhouse." and tom lowered his voice. "i heard them from the boat, the other night, when i couldn't sleep--heard them as plain as you can hear a dog lapping water. and it's my opinion there was two of them. but i heard them as plain as i hear you." as tom talked, i seemed to hear ulysses telling of his meeting with agamemnon in hades, and those terrible ghosts drinking from the blood-filled trench, and i shuddered in spite of myself; for it is almost impossible entirely to refuse credence to beliefs held with such certitude of terror across so many centuries and by such different people. "well, tom," i remarked, "you may be right, but of one thing i'm certain; if the ghost's going to get any one, it sha'n't be you." "we've both got one good chance against them--" tom was beginning. "don't tell me again about that old sucking fish." "mind you keep it safe, for all that," said tom gravely. "i wouldn't lose mine for a thousand pounds." "well, all right, but let's forget the damned old ghosts for the present," and i broke out into the catch we had sung on so momentous an occasion-- _some gave a nickel, some gave a dime; but i didn't give no red cent-- she was no girl of mine-- delia's gone! delia's gone!_ and it did one good to hear tom's honest laughter resounding in that beautiful haunted wilderness, as the song brought back to both of us the memories of that morning which already seemed so long ago. "i wonder what's become of our friend of 'the wonderful works of god,'" i queried. "wherever he is, he's up to no good, we may be sure of that," answered tom. at last we decided to try a plan that was really no plan at all; that is to say, to seek more or less at random, till we consumed all our stores except just enough to take us home. meanwhile, we would, each of us, every day, cut a sort of radiating swathe, working single-handed, from the cove entrance. thus we would prospect as much of the country as possible in a sort of fan, both of us keeping our eyes open for a compass carved on a rock. in this way we might hope to cover no inconsiderable stretch of the country in the three weeks, and, moreover, the country most likely to give some results, as being that lying in a semi-circle from the little harbour where the ships would have lain. it wasn't much of a plan perhaps, but it seemed the most possible among impossibles. so the next morning, bright and early, we started work, i letting tom take sailor with him as company and protection against the spirits of the waste; also we took a revolver apiece and cartridge belts, and it seemed to me that the old fellow showed no little courage to go alone at all, with such hair-raising beliefs as he had. we each took food and a flask of rum and water to last us the day, and we promised to halloo now and again to each other for company, as soon as we got out of sight of each other. this, however, did not happen the first day. of course, we carried a machete and a mattock apiece, though the latter was but little use, and, if either of us should find any spot worth dynamiting, we agreed to let the other know. harder work than we had undertaken no men have ever set their hands to. it would have broken the back of the most able-bodied navvy; and when we reached the boat at sunset, we had scarce strength left to eat our supper and roll into our bunks. a machete is a heavy weapon that needs no little skill in handling with economy of force, and tom, who had been brought up to it, was, in spite of his years, a better practitioner than i. i have already hinted at the kind of devil's underbrush we had to cut our way through, but no words can do justice to the almost intelligent stubbornness with which those weird growths opposed us. it really seemed as though they were inspired by a diabolic will-force pitting itself against our wills, vegetable incarnations of evil strength and fury and cunning. battalions of actual serpents could scarcely have been harder to fight than these writhing, tormented shapes that shrieked and hissed and bled strangely under our strokes, and seemed to swarm with new life at each onset! and the rock was almost more terrible to grapple with than they. jagged and pointed, it was like needles and razors to walk on; and it was brittle as it was hard. while it could sometimes resist a hammer, it would at others smash under our feet like a tea-cup. it looked like some metallic dross long since vomited up from the furnaces of hell. only once in a while was a softer, limestone, formation--like the pit in which we had buried the captain--with hints at honeycombing, and possibilities that invariably came to nothing. now again we would come upon a rock of this kind that seemed for a second to hint at mysterious markings made by the hand of man, but they proved to be nothing but some decorative sea-fossilisation, making an accidental pattern, like the marking you sometimes come across on some old weathered stone on a moor. nothing that the fondest fancy could twist into the likeness of a compass or a cross! day after day, tom and i returned home dead-beat, with hardly a tired word to exchange with each other. we had now been at it for about a fortnight, and i loved the old chap more every day for the grit and courage with which he supported our terrible labours and kept up his spirits. we had long since passed out of sight of each other, and much time was necessarily wasted by our going to and from the place where we left off each day. many a time i hallooed to the old man to keep his heart up, and received back his cheery halloo far and far away. once or twice we had made fancied discoveries which we called off the other to see, and once or twice we had tried some blasting on rocks that seemed to suggest mysterious tunnellings into the earth. but it had all proved a vain thing and a weariness of the flesh. and the ghost of john p. tobias still kept his secret. chapter xi _an unfinished game of cards._ one evening, as i returned to the ship unusually worn-out and disheartened, i asked tom how the stores were holding out. he answered cheerfully that they would last another week, and leave us enough to get home. "well, shall we stick out the other week, or not, tom? i don't want to kill you, and i confess i'm nearly all in myself." "may as well stick it out, sar, now we've gone so far. then we'll have done all we can, and there's a certain satisfaction in doing that, sar." good old tom! and i believe that the wise old man had the thought behind, that, perhaps, when there was evidently nothing more to be done, i might get rid of the bee in my bonnet, and once more settle down to the business of a reasonable being. so next morning we went at it again; and the next, and the next again, and then on the fourth day, when our week was drawing to its close, something at last happened to change the grim monotony of our days. it was shortly after the lunch hour. tom and i, who were now working too far apart to hear each other's halloes, had fired our revolvers once or twice to show that all was right with us. but, for no reason i can give, i suddenly got a feeling that all was not right with the old man, so i fired my revolver, and gave him time for a reply. but there was no answer. again i fired. still no answer. i was on the point of firing again, when i heard something coming through the brush behind me. it was sailor racing toward me over the jagged rocks. evidently there was something wrong. "something wrong with old tom, sailor?" i asked, as though he could answer me. and indeed he did answer as plainly as dog could do, wagging his tail and whining, and turning to go back with me in the direction whence he had come. but i stopped to shoot off my revolver again. still no answer. "off we go then, old chap," and as he ran ahead, i followed him as fast as i could over those damnable rocks. it took me the best part of an hour to get to where tom had been working. it was an extent of those more porous limestone rocks of which i have spoken, almost cliff-like in height, and covering a considerable area. sailor brushed his way ahead, pushing through the scrub with canine importance. presently, at the top of a slight elevation, i came among the bushes to a softer spot where the soil had given way, and saw that it was the mouth of a shaft like a wide chimney flue, the earth of which had evidently recently fallen in. here sailor stopped and whined, pawing the earth, and, at the same time, i heard a moaning underneath. "is that you, tom?" i called. thank god, the old chap was not dead at all events. "thank the lord, it's you, sar," he cried. "i'm all right, but i've had a bad fall--and i can't seem able to move." "hold on and keep up your heart--i'll be with you in a minute," i called down to him. "mind yourself, sar," he called cheerily, and, indeed, it was a problem to get down to him without precipitating the loose earth and rock that were ready to make a landslide down the hole, and perhaps bury him for ever. but, looking about, i found another natural tunnel in the side of the hill. into this i was able to worm myself, and in the dim light found the old man, and put my flask to his lips. "anything broken, do you think?" tom didn't think so. he had evidently been stunned by his fall, and another pull at my flask set him on his feet. but, as i helped him up, and, striking a light, we began to look around the hole he had tumbled into, he gave a piercing shriek, and fell on his knees, jabbering with fear. "the ghosts! the ghosts!" he screamed. and the sight that met our eyes was certainly one to try the nerves. we had evidently stumbled upon a series of fairly lofty chambers hollowed out long ago first by the sea, and probably further shaped by man--caverns supported here and there by rude columns of the same rock, and dimly lit from above in one or two places by holes like mine shafts, down one of which fell masses of snake-like roots of the fig tree, a species of banyan. within the circle of this light two figures sat at a table--one with his hat tilted slightly, and one leaning sideways in his chair in a careless sort of attitude. they seemed to be playing cards, and they were strangely white--for they were skeletons. i stood hushed, while tom's teeth rattled at my side. the fantastic awe of the thing was beyond telling. and, then, not without a qualm or two, which i should be a liar to deny, i went and stood nearer to them. nearly all their clothes had fallen away, hanging but in shreds here and there. that the hat had so jauntily kept its place was one of those grim touches death, that terrible humorist, loves to add to his jests. the cards, which had apparently just been dealt, had suffered scarcely from decay--only a little dirt had sifted down upon them, as it had into the rum glasses that stood too at each man's side. and, as i looked at the skeleton jauntily facing me, i noticed that a bullet hole had been made as clean as if by a drill in his forehead of bone--while, turning to examine more closely his silent partner, i noticed a rusty sailor's knife hanging from the ribs where the lungs had been. then i looked on the floor and found the key to the whole story. for there, within a few yards, stood a heavy sailor's chest, strongly bound around with iron. its lid was thrown back, and a few coins lay scattered at the bottom, while a few lay about on the floor. i picked them up. they were pieces of eight! meanwhile, tom had stopped jabbering, and had come nearer, looking on in awed silence. i showed him the pieces of eight. "i guess these are all we'll see of one of john p. tobias's treasure, tom," i said. "and it looks as if these poor fellows saw as little of it as ourselves. can't you imagine them with it there at their feet--perhaps playing to divide it on a gamble; and, meanwhile, the other fellows stealing in through some of these rabbit runs--one with a knife, the other with a gun--and then: off with the loot and up with the sails. poor devils! it strikes me as a very pretty tragedy--doesn't it you?" suddenly--perhaps with the vibration of our voices--the hat toppled off the head of the fellow facing us, in the most weird and comical fashion--and that was too much for tom, and he screamed and made for the exit hole. but i waited a minute to replace the hat on the rakish one's head. as i was likely often to think of him in the future, i preferred to remember him as at the moment of our first strange acquaintance. book ii _the dotted cays, with their little trees, lie all about on the crystal floor; nothing but beauty-- far off is duty, far off the folk of the busy shore._ _the mangroves stride in the coloured tide, with leafy crests that will soon be isles; and all is lonely-- white sea-sand only, angel-pure for untrodden miles._ _in sunny bays the young shark plays, among the ripples and nets of light; and the conch-shell crawls through the glimmering halls the coral builds for the infinite._ _and every gem in his diadem, from flaming topaz to moon-hushed pearl, glitters and glances in swaying dances of waters adream like the eyes of a girl._ _the sea and the stars, and the ghostly bars of the shoals all bright 'neath the feet of the moon; the night that glistens, and stops and listens to the half-heard beat of an endless tune._ _here solitude to itself doth brood, at the furthest verge of the reef-spilt foam; and the world's lone ends are met as friends, and the homeless heart is at last at home._ book ii chapter i _once more in john saunders's snuggery._ need i say that it was a great occasion when i was once more back safe in john saunders's snuggery, telling my story to my two friends, comfortably enfolded in a cloud of tobacco smoke, john with his old port at his elbow, and charlie webster and i flanked by our whiskies and soda, all just as if i had never stirred from my easy chair, instead of having spent an exciting month or so among sharks, dead men, blood-lapping ghosts, card-playing skeletons and such like? my friends listened to my yarn in characteristic fashion, john saunders's eyes more like mice peeping out of a cupboard than ever, and charlie webster's huge bulk poised almost threateningly, as it were, with the keenness of his attention. his deep-set kind brown eyes glowed like a boy's as i went on, but by their dangerous kindling at certain points of the story, those dealing with our pock-marked friend, henry p. tobias, jr., i soon realised where, for him, the chief interest of the story lay. "the ---- rebel!" he roared out once or twice, using an adjective peculiarly english. when i come to think of it, perhaps there is no one in his britannic majesty's dominions so wholeheartedly english as charlie webster. he is an englishman of a larger mould than we are accustomed to to-day. he seems rather to belong to a former more rugged era--an englishman say of elizabeth's or nelson's day; big, rough, and simple, honest to the core, slow to anger, but terrible when roused--a true heart of oak, a man with massive, slow-moving, but immensely efficient, "governing" brain. a born commander, utterly without fear, yet always cool-headed and never rash. if there are more englishmen like him, i don't think you will find them in london or anywhere in the british isles. you must go for them to the british colonies. there, rather than at home, the sacred faith in the british empire is still kept passionately alive. and, at all events, charlie webster may truly be said to have one article of faith--the glory of the british empire. to him, therefore, the one unforgivable sin is treason against that; as probably to die for england--after having notched a good account of her enemies on his unerring rifle--would be for him not merely a crown of glory, but the purest and completest joy that could happen to him. therefore it was--somewhat, i will own, to my disappointment--that for him my story had but one moral--the treason of henry p. tobias, jr. the treasure might as well have had no existence, so far as he was concerned, and the grim climax in the cave drew nothing from him but a preoccupied nod. and john saunders was little more satisfactory. both of them allowed me to end in silence. they both seemed to be thinking deeply. "well?" i said, somewhat dashed, as one whose story has fallen down on an anti-climax. still no response. "i must say you two are a great audience," i said presently, perhaps rather childishly nettled. "what's happened to your imagination!" "it's a very serious matter," said john saunders, and i realised that it was not my crony, but the secretary to the treasury of his britannic majesty's government at nassau that was talking. as he spoke, he looked across at charlie webster, almost as if forgetting me. "something should be done about it, eh, charlie?" he continued. "---- traitor!" roared charlie, once more employing that british adjective. and then he turned to me: "look here, old pal, i'll make a bargain with you, if you like. i suppose you're keen for that other treasure, now, eh?" "i am," said i, rather stiffly. "well then, i'll go after it with you--on one condition. you can keep the treasure, if you'll give me tobias!" "give you tobias?" i laughed. "yes! if you go after the treasure, he'll probably keep his word, and go after you. now it would do my heart good to get him, as you had the chance of doing that afternoon. whatever were you doing to miss him?" "i proposed to myself the satisfaction of making good that mistake," i said, "on our next meeting. i feel i owe it to the poor old captain." "never mind; hand the captain's rights over to me--and i'll help you all i know with your treasure. besides, tobias is a job for an englishman--eh, john? it's a matter of 'king and country' with me. with you it would be mere private vengeance. with me it will be an execution; with you it would be a murder. isn't that so, john?" "exactly," john nodded. "since you were away," charlie began again, "i've bought the prettiest yawl you ever set eyes on--the _flamingo_--forty-five over all, and this time the very fastest boat in the harbour. yes! she's faster even than the _susan b._ now, i've a holiday due me in about a fortnight. say the word, and the _flamingo's_ yours for a couple of months, and her captain too. i make only that one condition." "all right, charlie," i agreed, "he's yours." whereat charlie shot out a huge paw like a shoulder of mutton, and grabbed my hand with as much fervour as though i had saved his life, or done him some other unimaginable kindness. and, as he did so, his old broad sweet smile came back again. he was thinking of tobias. chapter ii _in which i learn something._ while charlie webster was arranging his affairs so that he might be able to take his holiday with a free mind, i busied myself with provisioning the _flamingo,_ and in casually chatting with one and another along the water front, in the hope of gathering some hint that might guide us on our coming expedition. i thought it possible, too, that chance might thus bring me some information as to the recent movements of tobias. in this way, i made the acquaintance of several old salts, both white and black, one or two of whom time and their neighbours had invested with a legendary savour of the old "wrecking days," which, if rumour speaks true, are not entirely vanished from the remoter corners of the islands. but either their romantic haloes were entirely due to imaginative gossip, or they themselves were too shrewd to be drawn, for i got nothing out of them to my purpose. they seemed to be more interested in talking religion than the sea, and as navigators of biblical deep seas little visited except by professional theologians they were remarkable. generally speaking, indeed, piety would seem to have taken the place of piracy among the sea-going population of nassau; a fact in which, no doubt, right-thinking folk will rejoice, but which i, i am ashamed to say, found disappointing. those who would master the art of talking to the nassau negro should first brush up on their bibles; for a pious salutation might almost be said to be nassau etiquette for opening a conversation. of course, this applies mainly to negroes or those "conchs" in whom negro blood predominates. the average white man in nassau must not be considered as implicated in this statement, for he seems to take his religion much as the average white man takes it in any other part of the world. one afternoon, in the course of these rather fruitless if interesting investigations among the picturesque shipyards of bay street, i had wandered farther along that historic water front than is customary with sight-seeing pedestrians; had left behind the white palm-shaded houses, the bazaars of the sellers of tortoise-shell, the negro grog-shops and cabins, and had come to where the road begins to be left alone with the sea, except for a few country houses here and there among the surrounding scrub--when my eye was caught by a little store that seemed to have strayed away from the others--a small timber erection painted in blue and white with a sort of sea-wildness and loneliness about it, and with large naïve lettering across its lintel announcing itself as an "emporium" (i think that was the word) "of marine curiosities." a bladder-shaped fish, set thick with spines like a hedgehog, swung in the breeze over the doorway, and the windows on each side of the doorway displayed, without any attempt at arrangement, all sorts of motley treasures of the sea: purple sea-fans; coral in every fairy shape, white as sea-foam; conches patterned like some tessellated pavement of old rome; monster star-fish, sharks' teeth, pink pearls, and shells of every imaginable convolution and iridescence, and many a weird and lovely thing which i had not the knowledge to name; objects, indeed, familiar enough in nassau, but here amassed and presented with this attractive difference--that they had not been absurdly polished out of recognition, or tortured into horrible "artistic" shapes of brooch, or earring, or paper-knife, or ash-tray, but had been left with all their simple sea-magic upon them--as they might have been heaped up by the sea itself in some moonlit grotto, paved with white sand. i pushed open the door. there was no one there. the little store was evidently left to take care of itself. inside, it was like an old curiosity shop of the sea, every available inch of space, rough tables and walls, littered and hung with the queer and lovely bric-à-brac of the sea. presently a tiny girl came in as it seemed from nowhere, and said she would fetch her father. in a moment or two he came, a tall weathered englishman of the sailor type, brown and lean, with lonely blue eyes. "you don't seem afraid of thieves," i remarked. "it ain't a jewelry store," he said, with the curious soft sing-song intonation of the nassau "conch." "that's just what i was thinking it was," i said. "i know what you mean," he replied, his lonely face lighting up as faces do at unexpected understanding in a stranger. "of course, there are some that feel that way, but they're few and far between." "not enough to make a fortune out of?" "o! i do pretty well," he said; "i mustn't complain. money's not everything, you see, in a business like this. there's going after the things, you know. one's got to count that in too." i looked at him in some surprise. i had met something even rarer than the things he traded in. i had met a merchant of dreams, to whom the mere handling of his merchandise seemed sufficient profit: "there's going after the things, you know. one's got to count that in too." naturally we were neck-deep in talk in a moment. i wanted to hear all he cared to tell me about "going after the things"--such "things"!--and he was nothing loth, as he took up one strange or beautiful object after another, his face aglow, and he quite evidently without a thought of doing business, and told me all about them--how and where he got them, and so forth. "but," he said presently, encouraged by my unfeigned interest, "i should like to show you a few rarer things i have in the house, and which i wouldn't sell, or even show to every one. if you'd honour me by taking a cup of tea, we might look them over." so we left the little store, with its door unlocked as i had found it, and a few steps brought us to a little house i had not before noticed, with a neat garden in front of it, all the garden beds symmetrically bordered with conch-shells. shells were evidently the simple-hearted fellow's mania, his revelation of the beauty of the world. here in a neat parlour, also much decorated with shells, tea was served to us by the little girl i had first seen and an elder sister, who, i gathered, made all the lonely dreamer's family. then, shyly pressing on me a cigar, he turned to show me the promised treasures. he also told me more of his manner of finding them, and of the long trips which he had to take in seeking them, to out-of-the-way cays and in dangerous waters. all this i really believe the reader would find as attractive as i did; still, as i am under an implied contract to tell him a story, i am not going to palm off on him merely descriptive or informative matter, except in so far as such matter is necessary, and i have only introduced him to my dreamer in "marine curiosities" for a very pertinent reason, which will immediately appear. he was showing me the last and rarest of his specimens. he had kept, he said, the best to the last. to me, as a layman, it was not nearly so attractive as other things he had shown me--little more to my eye than a rather commonplace though pretty shell; but he explained--and he gave me its learned name, which i confess has escaped me, owing, doubtless, to what he was next to say--that it was found, or had so far been found, only in one spot in the islands, a lovely, seldom-visited cay several miles to the north-east of andros island. "what is it called?" i asked, for it was part of our plan for charlie to do a little duck-shooting on andros, before we tackled the business of tobias and the treasure. "it's called ---- cay nowadays," he answered, "but it used to be called short shrift island." "short shrift island!" i cried, in spite of myself, immediately annoyed at my lack of presence of mind. "certainly," he rejoined, looking a little surprised, but evidently without suspicion. he was too simple, and too taken up with his shell. "it is such an odd name," i said, trying to recover myself. "yes! those old pirate chaps certainly did think up some of the rummiest names." "one of the pirate haunts, was it?" i queried with assumed indifference. "supposed to be. but one hears that of every other cay in the bahamas. i take no stock in such yarns. my shells are all the treasure i expect to find." "what did you call that shell?" i asked. he told me the name again, but again i forgot it immediately. of course i had asked it only for the sake of learning more precisely about short shrift island. he told me innocently enough just where it lay. "are you going after it?" he laughed. "after what?" i enquired in alarm. "the ----"; (again he mentioned the name of the shell.) "o! well," i replied, "i am going on a duck-shooting trip to andros before long, and i thought i might drop around to your cay and pick a few of them up for you." "it would be mighty kind of you, but they're not easy to find. i'll tell you just exactly--" he went off, dear fellow, into the minutest description of the habitats of ----, while all the time i was eager to rush off to charlie webster and john saunders, and shout into their ears--as, later, i did, at the first possible moment, that evening: "i've found our missing cay! what's the matter with your old maps, john? short shrift island is ----; (i mentioned the name of a cay, which, as in the case of "dead men's shoes," i am unable to divulge.) "maybe!" said charlie, "maybe! we can try it. but," he added, "did you find out anything about tobias?" chapter iii _in which i am afforded glimpses into futurity--possibly useful._ two or three evenings before we were due to sail, at one of our snuggery conclaves, i put the question whether any one had ever tried the divining rod in hunting for treasure in the islands. charlie took his pipe out of his mouth, the more comfortably to beam his big brotherly smile at me. "what a kid you are!" he said. "you want the whole bag of tricks, eh?" but i retorted that he was quite behind the times if he considered the divining rod an exploded superstition. its efficacy in finding water, i reminded him, was now admitted by the most sceptical science, and i was able to inform him that a great american railway company paid a yearly salary to a "dowser" to guide it in the construction of new roads through a country where water was scarce and hard to find. old john nodded, blinking his mischievous eyes. he had more sympathy than charlie with the foolishness of old romance. it was true enough, he said, and added that he knew the man i wanted, a half-crazy old negro back there in grant's town--the negro quarter spreading out into the brush behind the ridge on which the town of nassau proper is built. "he calls himself a 'king,'" he added, "and the natives do, i believe, regard him as the head of a certain tribe. another tribe has its 'queen' whom they take much more seriously. you must not forget that it is not so long ago since they all came from africa, and the oldest negroes still speak their strange african languages, and keep up their old beliefs and practices. 'obeah,' of course, is still actively practised. "why," he resumed presently, "i may even be said to practise it myself; for i protect that part of my grounds here that abuts on grant's town by hanging up things in bottles along the fences, which frighten away at least a percentage of would-be trespassers. you should go and see the old man, if only for fun. the lads call him 'old king coffee'--a memory i suppose of the ashantee war. any one will tell you where he lives. he is something of a witch-doctor as well as 'king,' and manages to make a little out of charms, philtres and such like, i'm told--enough to keep him in rum anyway. he has a name too as a preacher--among the holy jumpers!--but he's getting too old to do much preaching nowadays. he may be a little off his head, but i think he's more of a shrewd old fraud. go and see him for fun anyway." so, next morning, i went. i had hardly been prepared for the plunge into "darkest africa" which i found myself taking, as, leaving government house behind, perched on the crest of its white ridge, i walked a few yards inland and entered a region which, for all its green palms, made a similar sudden impression of pervading blackness on the mind which one gets on suddenly entering a coal-mining district, after travelling through fields and meadows. there were far more blacks than whites down on bay street, but here there were nothing but blacks on every side. the wood of the cabins--most of them neat enough and pleasantly situated in their little gardens of bananas and cocoa-nut palms--was black, as with age or coal dust; and the very foliage, in its suggestion of savage scenes in one's old picture-books, suggested "natives." the innumerable smart little pigs that seemed free of the place were black. the innumerable goats, too, were black. and everywhere, mixed in with the pigs and the goats, were the blackest of picaninnies. everywhere black faces peered from black squares of windows, most of them cheery and round and prosperous looking, but here and there a tragically old crone with witch-like white hair. the roads ran in every direction, and along them everywhere were figures of black women shuffling with burdens on their heads, or groups of girls, audaciously merry, most of them bonny, here and there almost a beauty. there were churches, and dance-halls, and saloons--all radiating, so to say, a prosperous blackness. it was from these dance-halls that there came at night that droning and braying of barbaric music, as from some mysterious "heart of darkness," as one turned to sleep in one's civilised nassau beds--a music that kept on and on into the inner blackness of the night. at first the effect of the whole scene was a little sinister, even a little frightening. the strangeness of africa, the african jungle, was here, and one was a white man in it all alone among grinning savage faces. but for the figures about one being clothed, the illusion had been complete; but for that and the kind-hearted salutations from comely white-turbaned mammies which soon sprang up about me, and the groups of elfish children that laughingly blocked one's progress with requests--not in any weird african dialect but in excellent national-school english--for "a copper please." this request was not above the maidenly dignity of quite big and buxom lasses. one of these, a really superb young creature, not too liberally clothed to rob one's eyes of her noble contours, caught my attention by the singularity of something she carried. it was an enormous axe, the shining blade balanced easily on her head, and the handle jutting out horizontally like some savage head-dress. she looked like a beautiful young headswoman. even she asked for "a copper, please," but with a saucy coquetry befitting her adolescence. "a big girl like you too!" i ventured. she gave a fine savage laugh, without in the least jeopardising the balance of the axe. "i'll give you one if you'll tell me where the 'king' lives," said i. "ole king coffee?" she asked, and then fell into a very agony of negro laughter. the poor old king was evidently the best of all possible jokes to this irreverent young beauty. then, recovering, she put her finger to her lips, suggesting silence, and said: "come along, i'll show you!" and, walking by my side, lithe as a young animal, evidently without giving a thought to her gleaming headdress, she had soon brought me to a cabin much like the rest, though perhaps a little poorer looking. stopping a little short of it, she once more put her finger to her lips. "shh! there he is!" and she shook all over again with suppressed giggles. i gave her a sixpence and told her to be a good girl. then i advanced up a little strip of garden to where i had caught a glimpse of a venerable white-haired negro seated at the window, as if for exhibition, with a great open book in his hands. this he appeared to be reading with great solemnity, through enormous goggles, though i thought i caught a side-glint of his eye, as though he had taken a swift reconnoitring glance in my direction--a glance which apparently had but deepened his attention and increased the dignity of his demeanour. that dignity indeed was magnificent, and was evidently meant to convey to the passers-by and the world at large that they were in the presence of royalty. as i approached the doorway, my eye was caught by a massive decoration glittering immediately above it. it was a design of large gilt wooden letters which i couldn't make out at first, as it had been turned upside down. i didn't realise its meaning till afterward, but i may as well tell the reader now. shortly before, king coffee, feeling in need of some insignia to blazon forth his rank, had appealed to a friend of his, a kindly american visitor, who practically kept the old fellow alive with his bounty. this kind friend was a wag too, and couldn't resist the idea that had come to him. the old man wanted something that glittered. so the american had bethought him of those big lettered signs which on the face of saloons brighten the american landscape--signs announcing somebody or other's "extra." this it was that now glittered in front of me as--the royal arms! that it was upside down merely added to its mysterious impressiveness for the passer-by, and in no way afflicted the old king since, in spite of that imposing book at the window, he was quite unable to read. that book, a huge, much-gilded family bible, was merely another portion of the insignia--presented by the same kind friend; as also was the magnificent frock coat, three sizes too big for the shrunken old figure, in which i found him--installed, shall i say?--as i presently stood before him in response to a dignified inclination of his head, welcoming me, at the window. remembering that he was not merely royal, but pious also, i made my salutation at once courtier-like and sanctimonious. "good day to your majesty," i said; "god's good, god looks after his servants." "de lord is merciful," he answered gravely; "god takes care of his children. be seated, sar, and please excuse my not rising, my rheumatism is a sore affliction to me. but de lord is good, de lord giveth and de lord he taketh away--and de holy text includes rheumatism too--as i have told my poor wandering flock many a sabbath evening." and he smiled in a sly self-satisfied way at his pious pun. "the old fellow is far from being crazy," i said to myself. i was not long in getting to the subject of my visit. the old man listened to me with great composure, but with a marked accession of mysterious importance in his manner. so mediæval astrologers drew down their brows with a solemn assumption of supernatural wisdom when consulted by some noble client--noble, but pitiably mortal in the presence of their hidden knowledge. he had put his book down as i talked. i noticed that he had been holding it--like his royal arms--upside down. "it's true, sar," he said, when i had finished, "i could find it for you. i could find it for you, sure enough; and i'm de only man in all de islands dat could. but i should have to go wid you, and it's de lord's will to keep me here in dis chair wid rheumatics. o! i don't murmur. it is de lord's doing and it is marvellous in our eyes. de rods has turned in dese old hands many a time, and i have faith in de lord dey would turn again--yes. i'd find it for you; sure enough. i'd find it if any man could--and it was de lord's will. but mebbe i can see it for you widout moving from dis chair. for when de lord takes away one gift from his servants, he gives dem another. it is his will dat dese 'ere old legs are stiff and can carry me round no more. so wot does de good lord do? he says: 'nebber mind dem ole legs; nebber mind dem ole weary eyes; sit jus' whar yuh are,' says de lord, 'nebber min' no movin' round.' de lord do wondrous things to his faithful followers; he opens de eyes of de spirit, so, having no eyes, dey shall see. hallelujah! glory be to de lord!--see down into de bowels of de earth, see thousands of miles away just as plain as dis room--" he had worked himself up to a sort of religious ecstasy, as i had seen the revivalist sect he belonged to, known as the holy jumpers, do at their curious services. "do you mean, brother, that the lord has given you second sight?" "dat am it! glory to his name, hallelujah!" he answered. "i look in a glass ball--so; and if de spirit helps me i can see clear as a picture far under de ground, far, far away over de sea. it's de lord's truth, sar--blessed be his name!" i asked him whether he would look into his crystal for me. with a burst of profanity, as unexpected as it was vivid, he cursed "dem boys" that had stolen from him a priceless crystal which once had belonged to his old royal mother, who, before him, had had the same gift of the spirit. but, he added--turning to a table by his side, and lifting from it a large cut-glass decanter of considerable capacity, though at present void of contents--that he had found that gazing into the large glass ball of its stopper produced almost equally good results at times. he said this with perfect solemnity, though, as he placed the decanter on top of his bible in front of him, i observed, with an inner smile, that he tilted it slightly on one side, as though remarking, strictly to himself, that, save for a drain of dark-coloured liquid in one corner, it was painfully empty. then, with a sigh, he applied himself to his business of seer. first, he asked me to be kind enough to shut the door. we had to be very quiet, he declared; the spirit could work only in deep silence. and he asked me to be kind enough to close my eyes. then i heard his voice muttering, in a strange tongue, a queer dark gobbling kind of words, which may have been ancient african spell-words, or sheer gibberish such as magicians in all times and places have employed to mystify their consultants. i looked at him through the corner of my eye--as, doubtless, he had anticipated, for he was glaring with an air of inspired abstraction into the ball of the decanter stopper. so we sat silent for, i suppose, some ten minutes. then i heard him give another deep sigh. opening my eyes, i saw him slowly shaking his head. "de spirits don't seem communicable dis afternoon," he muttered, once more tilting the decanter slightly on one side and observing it drearily as before. i had been rather slow, indeed, in taking the hint, but i determined to take it, and see what would happen. "do you think, your majesty," i asked, with as serious a face as i could assume, "the spirits might work better--if the decanter were to be filled?" the old man looked at me a little cautiously, as though wondering how to take me. i tried to keep grave, but i couldn't quite suppress a twinkle; catching it, he took courage--seemed to feel that he could trust me. slapping his knee, he let himself go in a rush of that deep, chuckling, gurgling, child-like negro laughter which is one of the most appealing gifts of his pathetic race. "mebbe, sar; mebbe. spirits is curious things; dey need inspiration sometimes, just like ourselves." "what kind of inspiration, do you think, gets the best results, your majesty?" "well, sar, i can't say as dey is very particular, but i'se noticed dey do seem powerful 'tached to just plain good old jamaica rum." "they shall have it," i said. i had noticed that there was a saloon a few yards away, so before many more minutes had passed, i had been there and come back again, and the decanter stood ruddily filled, ready for the resumption of our _séance._ but before we began, i of course accepted the seer's invitation to join him and the spirits in a friendly libation. then--i having closed my eyes--we began again, and it was astonishing with what rapidity the thick-coming pictures began to crowd upon that inner vision with which the lord had endowed his faithful follower! of course, i was inclined now to take the whole thing as an amusing imposture; but presently, watching his face and the curious "seeing" expression of his eyes, and noting the exactitude of one or two of his pictures, i began to feel that, however much he might be inventing or elaborating, there was some substratum of truth in what he was telling me. i had had sufficient experience of mediums and clairvoyants to know that, except in cases of absolute fraud, there was usually--beneath a certain amount of conscious "imaginativeness"--a mysterious gift at work, independent of their volition; something they did see, for which they themselves could not account, and over which they had no control. and as he proceeded i became more and more convinced that this was the case also with old king coffee. the first pictures that came to him were merely pictures, though astonishingly clear ones, of webster's boat, the _flamingo,_ of webster himself, and of the men and the old dog sailor; but in all this he might have been visualising from actual knowledge. yet the details were curiously exact. we were all bathed in moonlight, he said--very bright moonlight, moonlight you could read by. pictures of us out at sea, passing coral islands and so forth followed, all general in character. but presently, his gaze becoming more fixed: "i see you anchored under a little settlement. you are rowing ashore. dere are little pathways running up among de coral rock, and a few white houses. and, yes! dere is a man in overalls, on de roof of a building, seeming like a little schoolhouse. he waves to you; he is getting down from de roof to meet you. but his face is in a mist, i can't see him right. now he is gone." he stopped and waited awhile. then he resumed: "seems to be a forest; big, big trees--not like nassau trees--and thick brush everywhere; all choked up so thick and dark, can't see nut'n. wait a minute, dough. dere seems to be old houses all sunk in and los', like old ruins. can't see dem right for de brush. and wait--lord love you, sar, but i'se afraid--i seem to see a big light coming up trough de brush from far under de ground--just like you see old rotten wood shining in de dark--deep, deep down. didn't i tell you de lord gave me eyes to see into de bowels of de earth?--it's de bowels of de earth for sure--all lit up and shining. praise de lord!--it am de gold, for certain, all hidden away and shining dere under de ground--" "can't you see it closer, clearer?" i exclaimed involuntarily; "get some idea of the place it's in?" the old man gazed with a renewed intensity. "no," he said presently, and his disappointed tone seemed to me the best evidence yet of his truth, "i only see a little golden mist deep, deep down under de ground; now it is fading away. it's gone; i can only see de woods and de ruins again." this brought his visions to an end. the spirits obstinately refused to make any more pictures, though the old man continued to gaze on in the decanter stopper for fully five minutes. "de wind of de spirit bloweth as it listeth," said he at length, with the note of a more genuine piety in his voice than at the beginning; and there was a certain hushed gravity in his manner as we said good-bye, which made me feel that there had been something in his visions that had even surprised and solemnised himself. chapter iv _in which we take ship once more._ the discovery which--through my friend the dealer in "marine curiosities"--i had made, or believed myself to have made, of the situation of henry p. tobias's second "pod" of treasure, fitted in exactly with charlie webster's wishes for our trip, small stock as he affected to take in it at the moment. as the reader may recall, "short shrift island" lay a few miles to the northwest of andros island. now andros is a great haunt of wild duck, not to speak of that more august bird, the flamingo. attraction number one for the good charlie. then, though it is some hundred and fifty miles long and some fifty miles broad at its broadest, it has never yet, it is said, been entirely explored. its centre is still a mystery. the natives declare it to be haunted, or at all events inhabited by some strange people no one has yet approached close enough to see. you can see their houses, they say, from a distance, but as you approach them, they disappear. here, therefore, seemed an excellent place for tobias to take cover in. charlie's duck-shooting preserves, endless marl lakes islanded with mangrove copses, lay on the fringe of this mysterious region. so andros was plainly marked out for our destination. but, when charlie was ready for the start, the wind, which is of the essence of any such contract in the bahamas, was contrary. it had been blowing stormily from the southwest, the direction we were bound for, for several days, and nothing with sails had, for a week, felt like venturing out across the surf-swept bar. it is but forty miles across the tongue of ocean which divides the shores of new providence and andros, but you need to pick your weather for that, if you don't want to join the numerous craft that have vanished in that brief but fateful strip of water. however, the wind was liable to change any minute now, charlie said, so he warned me to hold myself in readiness to jump aboard at an hour's notice. the summons came at last. i had been out for dinner, and returned home about ten to find the message: "be ready to sail at midnight." there was a thrilling suddenness about it that appealed to one's imagination. here i had been expecting a landsman's bed, with a book and a reading-lamp, surrounded by the friendly security of houses; instead, i was to go faring with the night wind into the mystery of the sea. it was a night of fitful moonlight, and nassau, with its white houses and white streets, seemed very hushed and spectral as i made my way down to the wharf, vivid in black and silver. there is always something mysterious about starting a journey at night, even though it be nothing more out-of-the-way than catching a midnight train out of the city; and the simple business of our embarkation breathed an air of romantic secrecy. the moon seemed to have her finger on her lip, and we talked in lowered voices as though we were bound on some midnight raid. the night seemed to be charged with the expectancy of the unknown, and sailor, who, of course, was to be a fellow-voyager, whined restlessly from the wharf side at the little yawl that awaited us in the whispering, lapping water. sailor had watched his master getting his guns ready for some days, and, doubtless, memories stirred in him of scotch moors they had shot over together. he raised his head to the night wind, and sniffed impatiently, as though he already scented the wild duck on andros island. he was impatient, like the rest of us, because, though it was an hour past sailing-time, we had still to collect two of the crew. the same old story! i marvelled at the good humour with which charlie--who is really a sleeping volcano of berserker rage--took it. but he reminded me of his old advice as i started for my first trip: "no use getting mad with niggers--till you positively have to!" well, the two loiterers turned up at last, and, all preliminaries being at length disposed of, we threw off the mooring ropes, and presently there was heard that most exhilarating of sounds, to any one who loves sea-faring, the rippling of the ropes through the blocks as our mainsail began to rise up high against the moon which was beginning to look out over the huge block of the colonial hotel, the sea-wall of which ran along as far as our mooring. a few lights in its windows here and there broke the blank darkness of its facade, glimmering through the avenues of royal palms. i am thus explicit because of something that presently happened, and which stayed the mainsail in its rippling ascent. a tall figure was running along the sea-wall from the direction of the hotel, calling out, a little breathlessly, in a rich young voice as it ran: "wait a minute there, you fellows! wait a minute!" we were already moving, parallel with the wall, and at least twelve feet away from it, by the time the figure--that of a tall boy, cow-boy hatted, and picturesquely outlined in the half light--stopped just ahead of us. "like the herald mercury," i said to myself. he raised something that looked like a bag in his right hand, calling out "catch" as he did so; and, a moment after, before a word could be spoken, he took a flying leap and landed amongst us, plump in the cock-pit, and was clutching first one of us and then the other, to keep his balance. "did it, by jove!" he exclaimed in a beautiful english accent, and then started laughing as only absurd dare-devil youngsters can. "forgive me!" he said, as soon as he could get his breath, "but i had to do it. heaven knows what the old man will say!" he seemed to take it all for granted in a delightful, nonchalant way, so that the angry protest which had already started from charlie's lips stopped in the middle. that fearless leap had taken his heart. "you're something of a long jump!" said charlie. "o! i have done my twenty-two and an eighth on a broad running jump, but i had no chance for a run there," answered the lad, carelessly. "but suppose you'd hit the water instead of the deck?" "what of it? can't one swim?" "i guess you're all right, young man," said charlie, softened; "but ... well, we're not taking passengers." the words had a familiar sound. they were the very ones i had used to tobias, as he stood with his hand on the gunwale of the _maggie darling._ i rapidly conveyed the coincidence--and the difference--to charlie. it struck me as odd, i'll admit, that our second start, in this respect, should be so like the first. meanwhile, the young man was answering, or rather pleading, in a boyish way. "don't call me a passenger; i'll help work the boat. i'm strong, you'll see--not afraid of hard work; and anyway, won't you help a chap to an adventure?... i'll tell the truth. i heard--never mind _how_--about your trip, and i'm just nutty about buried treasure. come, be a sport; i've been watching for you all day. pretty late starting, aren't you?... we can let the old guv'nor know, somehow ... and it won't kill him to tear his hair for a day or two. he knows i can take care of myself." "well!" said charlie, after thinking awhile in his slow way, "we'll think it over. you can come along till the morning. then i can get a good look at you. if i don't like your looks, we'll still be able to put you off at west end; and if i do--well--right-ho!" "my looks!" exclaimed our young stranger, with a peculiar mellow laugh. "what's the joke?" demanded charlie. "o! i only wondered what my looks had to do with it!" "well," laughed charlie, entering into the spirit of the lad, "you might be pock-marked for all i know in this light--and i have a peculiar prejudice against pock-marked gentlemen." "unfeeling of you!" retorted the boy. "anyhow," he added, with the same curiously attractive laugh, "i'm not pock-marked." "we'll see at sunrise," said charlie. "now, boys," he shouted, "go ahead with the sails." once more there was that rippling of the ropes through the blocks, as our mainsail rose up high against the moon and filled proudly with the steady northeast breeze we had been waiting for. the water began to talk along our sides, and the immense freshness of the nocturnal sea took us in its huge embrace. the spray began to fly over our bows as we nosed into the glassy rollers, one of which, on the starboard side, admonished us, by half swallowing us, that only the mighty-limbed immortals might dance with safety on the bar that night, and that it were wise for even -foot yawls to hug the land till daylight. so, reluctantly, we kept the shadowy coast-line for our companion, as we steered for the southwestern end of the island; to our right, companions more of our mood, parallel ridges of savage whiteness, where the surf boiled and gleamed along the coral shoals. how good it seemed to all of us to be out thus in the freedom of the night and the sea--not least to the great noble-headed hound sitting up on his haunches, keen and watchful by the steersman's side. what a strange waste of a life so short to be sleeping there on the land, when one might be out and away on such business as ours! so two or three hours went by, as we plunged on, to the seething sound of the water, and the singing of our sails, and all the various rumour of wind and sea. after all, it was a good music to sleep to, and, for all my scorn of sleeping landsmen, an irresistible drowsiness stretched me out on the roof of the little cabin, wonderfully rocked into forgetfulness. my nap came to an end suddenly, as though some one had flung me out through a door of blue and gold into a new-born world. there was the sun rising, the moon still on duty, and the morning star divinely naked in the heaven. and, with these glories, there rushed in again upon my ears the lovely zest and turmoil of the sea, heaving huge and tumultuous about us in gleaming hills and foam-flecked valleys. and there was charlie, his broad face beaming with boyish happiness, and something like a fatherly gentleness in his eyes, as he watched his companion at the tiller, whom, for a half-asleep moment of waking, i couldn't account for, till our start all came back to me, when i realised that it was our young scapegrace of over-night. charlie and he evidently were on the best of terms already. "nice sailor you are!" charlie laughed, as i sat up rubbing my eyes. "falling asleep on watch! our young friend here is worth ten of you." i smiled good morning to our young passenger. "how about the court-martial on his looks you spoke of last night, charlie?" i asked. "well, he's not pock-marked, at all events, is he?--he told the truth so far. but i've still a question or two to ask him before we leave west end. we'll have breakfast first--to give him courage." the lad made a humorous face to suggest his fear of the ordeal; as he did so, i took a good look at him. charlie might easily have said a little more about his looks, had it been in his line, for, so far from being only "not pock-marked," he was something more like a young apollo: some six feet in height, upstanding like the statue of a greek athlete; a rich olive skin, through which the pink of youth came and went; and splendid blue-green eyes, fearless, and yet shy as a lad's eyes often are--at that moment of development when a good-looking lad, in spite of his height and muscles, has something of the bloom and purity of a girl, without in the least suggesting effeminacy. so, many tall athletic girls, for a brief period, suggest boys--without there being the least danger of mistake as to their real sex. he was evidently very young--scarcely more than eighteen--and had a great tendency to blush, for all his attempt at nonchalant grown-up airs. he was the very embodiment of youth, in its sun-tipped morning flower. what charlie could have to "question" this artless young being--as incapable of plotting, it seemed to me, as a young faun--passed my conjecture; but, as charlie had given me a quiet wink, as he spoke of the after-breakfast examination, i suspected that it was one of those jokes of his which are apt to have something of the simplicity and roughness of seafaring tradition. meanwhile, old tom had been busy with breakfast, and soon the smells of coffee and freshly made "johnny-cake" and frying bacon competed not unsuccessfully with the various fragrances of the morning. is there anything to match for zest a breakfast like that of ours at dawn on the open sea? breakfast over, charlie filled his pipe, assuming, as he did so, a judicial aspect. i filled mine, and our young friend followed suit by taking a silver cigarette-case from his pocket, and striking a match on the leg of his khaki knickerbockers with a professional air. "all set?" asked charlie, and, after a slight pause, he went on: "now, young man, you can see we are nearing the end of the island. another half-mile will bring us to west end. whether we put you ashore there, or take you along, depends on your answers to my questions." "fire away," answered the youth, blowing a cloud of cigarette smoke in a delicate spiral up into the morning sky; "but i've really told you all i have to tell." "no; you haven't told us how you came to know of our trip, what we were supposed to be after, and when we were starting." "that's true!" flushed the lad, momentarily losing his composure. then, partly regaining it: "is it necessary to answer that question?" "absolutely," answered charlie, beginning to look really serious. "because, if you don't mind ... well, i'd just as soon not." the boy's cheeks were burning with confusion, and he looked more than ever like a girl. "for that very reason, i want to know. we are out on a more serious business than perhaps you realise, and your answer may mean more to us than you think." "i'm sure it cannot be of such importance to you. really it's nothing--a mere accident; and, besides, it's hardly fair for me to tell. i should have to give away a friend, and that, i'm sure you'll agree, is not cricket." the boy had such a true innocent air, not to speak of his taking ways which had already quite won my heart, that i protested with charlie on his behalf. but charlie was adamant. he'd got tobias so on the brain that there was no reasoning with him, and the very innocent air of the lad seemed to have deepened his suspicions. "i'm sorry, but i shall have to insist," replied charlie, looking very grim, and more and more like an elizabethan sea-rover. "all right, then," answered the youth, looking him straight in the eyes, "put me ashore." "no; i won't do that now, either," declared charlie, sternly setting his jaw. "i'll put you in irons, rather--and keep you on bread and water--till you answer my questions." "you will, eh?" retorted the youth, flashing fire from his fine eyes. and as he spoke, quick as thought, he leaped up on to the gunwale, and, without hesitation, dived into the great glassy rollers. but charlie was quick too. like a flash, he grabbed one of the boy's ankles, so that the beautiful dive was spoiled; and there was the boy, hanging by an imprisoned leg over the ship's side, a helpless captive--his arms in the water and his leg struggling vainly to get free. but he might as well have struggled against the grip of hercules. in another moment charlie had him hauled aboard again, his eyes full of tears of boyish rage and humiliation. "you young fool!" exclaimed charlie. "the water round here is thick with sharks; you wouldn't have gone fifty yards without one of them getting you." ... "sharks!" gasped out the boy, contemptuously. "i know more about sharks than you do." "you seem to know a good many things i don't," said charlie, whose grimness had evidently relaxed a little at the lad's display of mettle. meanwhile, my temper was beginning to rise on behalf of our young passenger. "i tell you what, charlie," i interposed; "if you are going to keep this up, you'd better count me out on this trip and set us both ashore at west end. you're making a fool of yourself. the lad's all right. any one can see with half an eye there's no harm in him." the boy shot me a warm glance of gratitude. "all right," agreed charlie, beginning to lose his temper too, "i'm damned if i don't." and, his hand on the tiller, he made as if to turn the boat about and tack for the shore. "no! no!" cried the boy, springing between us, and appealingly laying one hand on charlie's shoulder, the other on mine. "you mustn't let me spoil your trip. i'll compromise. and, skipper, i'll tell your friend here all there is to tell--everything--i swear--if you will leave it to his judgment." charlie gloomed for a moment or two, thinking it over, while i stood aloof with an injured air. "right-o," agreed charlie at last; so our passenger and i thereupon withdrew for our conference. it was soon over, and i couldn't help laughing aloud at the simplicity of it all. "just as i told you, charlie," i exclaimed; "it's innocence itself." turning to the lad, i said: "dear boy, there is really no need to keep such a small secret as that from the skipper here. you'll really have to let me tell him." the boy nodded acquiescence. "all the same, i gave my word," he said when i told charlie the innocent secret, he laughed as i had done, and his usual good humour instantly returned. "but to think, you young scapegrace," he exclaimed, "that you might either have been eaten by a shark, or have broken up an old friendship, for such nonsense as that." and, turning to me, and stretching out his huge paw, "my hand, old man; forgive my bad temper." "mine too," said i. so harmony was restored, and the stubbornly held secret had merely amounted to this: our lad was acquainted with my conchologist, and had paid him a visit the very afternoon i did, had in fact seen me leaving the house. answering to the boy's romantic talk of buried treasure and so forth, the shell enthusiast had thought no harm to tell him of our projected trip; and that was the whole of the mysterious matter. yet the day was not to end without a little incident which, slight though indeed it was, was momentarily to arouse charlie's suspicions of our charming young companion once more. by this we had shaken off the unwelcome convoy of the coast-line, and, having had a thrilling minute or two running the gauntlet of the great combers of the southwest bar, we were at last really out to sea, making our dash under a good sailing breeze, with the engine going, too, across the tongue of ocean. this tongue of ocean is but a narrow strip of sea--so narrow indeed that you scarcely lose sight of one coast before you sight the other--yet the oldest sailors cross it with fear, for its appalling depth within its narrow boundaries make it subject to sudden "rages" in certain winds. even charlie, who must have made the trip half a hundred times, scanned the western horizon with an anxious eye. presently, in the far southwest, tiny points like a row of pins began very faintly to range themselves along the sky-line. they were palm trees, though you could not make them out to be such, or anything in particular, till long after. one darker point seemed closer than the rest. "there's high cay!" rang out the rich young voice of our passenger, whom we'd half forgotten in our tense scanning of the horizon. charlie and i both turned to him together in surprise--and his face certainly betrayed the confusion of one who has let something slip involuntarily. "ho! ho! young man," cried charlie, his face darkening again, "what do you know about high cay? i thought this was your first trip." "so it is," answered the boy, with a flush of evident annoyance, "on the sea." "what do you mean by 'on the sea'?" "i mean that i've done it many a time--on the chart. i know every bluff and reef and shoal and cay around andros from morgan's bluff to washerwoman's cut--" "you do, eh?" "on the chart. why, i've studied charts since i was a kid, and gone every kind of voyage you can think of--playing at buccaneering or whaling, or discovering the north pole. every kid does that." "they do, eh?" said charlie, evidently quite unimpressed. "_i_ never did." "that's because you've about as much imagination as a turnip in that head of yours," i broke in, in defence of my young apollo. "maybe, if you're so smart," continued charlie, paying no attention to me, "you can navigate us through the north bight?" "maybe!" answered our youngster pertly, with an odd little smile. he had evidently recovered his nerve, and seemed to take pleasure in piquing charlie's bearish suspicions. chapter v _in which we enter the wilderness._ andros, as no other of the islands, is surrounded by a ring of reefs stretching all around its coasts. the waters inside this ring are seldom more than a fathom or two deep, and, spreading out for miles and miles above a level coral floor, give something of the effect of a vast natural swimming-bath. frequently there is no more than four or five feet of water, and in calm weather it would be almost possible to walk for miles across this strange sea-bottom. darker and solider grew the point on which our eyes were set, till at length we were up with a thick-set, little scrub-covered island which, compared with the low level of the line of coast stretching dimly behind it, rose high and rocky out of the water. hence its name, "high cay," and its importance along a coast where such definite landmarks are few. we were now inside the breakwater of the reefs, and the rolling swell of ocean gave way at once to a millpond calmness. through this we sped along for some ten miles or so, following a low, barren coast-line till at length, to our right, the water began to spread out inland like a lake. we were at the entrance of north bight, one of the three bights which, dotted with numerous low-lying cays, breaks up andros island in the middle, and allows a passage through a mazelike archipelago direct to the northwest end of cuba. here on the northwest shore is a small and very lonely settlement--one of the two or three settlements on the else-deserted island--behring's point. here we dropped anchor, and charlie, who had some business ashore, proposed our landing with him; but here again our passenger aroused his suspicions--though heaven knows why--by preferring to remain aboard. if charlie has a fault, it is a pig-headed determination to have his own way--but our passenger was politely obstinate. "please let me off," he requested, in his most top-lofty english accent. "you can see for yourself that there's nothing of interest--nothing but a beastly lot of nigger cabins, and dirty coral rock that will cut your boots to pieces. i'd much rather smoke and wait for you in peace;" and, taking out his case and lighting a cigarette, he waved it gaily to us as we rowed off. he had certainly been right about behring's point--charlie was absurdly certain that he had known it before, and had some reason for not landing--for a more forlorn and poverty-stricken foot-hold of humanity could hardly be conceived; a poor little cluster of negro cabins, indeed, scrambling up from the beach, and with no streets but craggy pathways in and out among the grey clinker-like coral rock. but it was touching to find even here that, though the whole worldly goods of the community would scarcely have fetched ten dollars, the souls of men were still held worth caring for--one handsome youth's contempt notwithstanding--for presently we came upon a pretty little church, with a schoolhouse near by, while from the roof of an adjacent building we were hailed by a pleasant-faced white man, busy with some shingling. it was the good priest of the little place, father serapion, disguised in overalls and the honest grime of his labour; like a true benedictine, praying with his strong and skilful hands. he was down from his roof in a moment, a youngish man with the face of a practical dreamer, strangely happy-looking in what would seem to most an appalling isolation; there alone, month after month, with his black flock. but evidently his was no such thought, for he showed us with pride the new schoolhouse he was building out of the coral limestone with his own hands, as he had built the church, every stone of it, and the picturesque well, and the rampart-like wall round the churchyard. his garden, too, he was very proud of, as he well might be, wrested as it was out of the solid rock. father serapion and charlie were old friends, and, when we had accepted the father's invitation to step into his neat little house--also built with his own hands--and dissipate with him to the extent of some grape juice and an excellent cigar, charlie took occasion to confide in him with regard to tobias, and, to his huge delight, discovered that a man answering very closely to his description had dropped in there with a large sponger two days before. he had only stopped long enough to buy rum at the little store near the landing, and had been off again through the bight, sailing west. he might have been making for cuba or for a hiding-place--of which there were plenty on the western shore of the island itself. father serapion, who knew charlie webster's shooting ground, promised to send a swift messenger, should anything further of interest to us come to his knowledge within the next week or so. as he was, naturally, in close touch with the natives, this was not unlikely. and then we had to bid the good priest farewell--not without a reverent hush in our hearts as we pondered on the marvel of noble lives thus unselfishly devoted, and as we thought, too, of the loneliness that would once more close around him when we were gone. it was not until we had left him that i suddenly recalled king coffee's first vision. clearly, father serapion was the man in overalls shingling the roof! if only his other visions should prove as true! then we sailed away from behring's point, due west through the north bight. but we had spent too much time with the good father, and in various pottering about--making another landing at a lone cabin in search of fresh vegetables and further loading up our much-enduring craft with three flat-bottomed skiffs, for duck-shooting, marvellously lashed to the sides of the cabin deck--to do much more sailing that day. so at sunset we dropped anchor under the lee of big wood cay, and, long before the moon rose, the whole boat's crew was wondrously asleep. morning found us sailing through a maze of low-lying desert islands of a bewildering sameness of shape and size, with practically nothing to distinguish one from another. even with long experience of them, one is liable to go astray; indeed charlie and the captain had several friendly disputes, and exchanged bets, as to which was which. then, too, the curious milky colour of the water (in strange contrast to the jewel-like clearness of the outer sea) makes it hard to keep clear of the coral shoals that shelve out capriciously from every island. in the daylight, the deeper water is seen in a bluish track (something like the "bluing" used in laundry work), edged on either side by "the white water." one has to keep a sharp lookout every foot of the way, and many a time our keel gave an ominous grating, and we escaped some nasty ledges by the mere mercy of heaven. we had tried bathing at sunrise, but the water was not deep enough to swim in. so we had paddled around picking up "conches"--those great ornamental shells which house with such fanciful magnificence an animal something like our winkle, the hard white flesh of which, cut up fine, makes an excellent salad; that is, as old tom made it. there is no fishing to speak of in these inclosed waters; nothing to go after except sponges, which you see dotting the coral floor in black patches. we gathered one or two, but the sponge in its natural state is not an agreeable object. it is like a mass of slimy india-rubber, and has to "die" and rot out its animal life, which it does with a protesting perfume of great power, the sponge of our bath-tubs being the macerated skeleton of the once living sponge. we had hoped to reach our camp, out on the other side of the island, that evening, but that dodging the shoals and sticking in the mud had considerably delayed us. besides, though charlie and the captain both hated to admit it, we had lost our way. we had been looking all afternoon for little wood cay, but as i said before, one cay was so much like another--all alike flat, low-lying, desolate islands covered with a uniform scrub and marked by no large trees--not unbeautiful if one has a taste for melancholy levels, but unpicturesquely depressing and hopeless for eyes craving more featured and coloured "scenery." so night began to fall, and, as there is no sailing in such waters at night, we once more cast anchor under a gloomy, black shape of land, exceedingly lonesome and forgotten-looking, which we agreed to call "little wood cay"--till morning. soon all were asleep except sailor and me. i lay awake for a long time watching the square yard of stars that shone down through the hatch in our cabin ceiling like a little window looking into eternity, while the waters lapped and lapped outside, and the night talked strangely to itself. it was a wonderful meeting-place of august lonely things--that nameless, dark island, that shadowy water heaving vast and mournful, that cry of the wind, that swaying vault of the stars, and, framed in the cabin doorway, the great black head of the old dog, grave and moveless and wondering. next morning charlie and the captain were forced to own up that the island, discovered to the day, was not little wood cay. no humiliation goes deeper with a sailing man than having to ask his way. besides, who was there to ask in that solitude? doubtless a cormorant flying overhead knew it, but no one thought to ask him. however, we were in luck, for, after sailing about a bit, we came upon two lonely negroes standing up in their boats and thrusting long poles into the water. they were sponging--most melancholy of occupations--and they looked forlorn enough in the still dawn. but they had a smile for our plight. it was evidently a good joke to have mistaken sapodilla cay for little wood cay. of course, we should have gone--"so." and "so" we presently went, not without rewarding them for their information with two generous drinks of old jamaica rum. i never before saw two men so grateful for a drink. their faces positively shone with happiness. certainly it must have seemed as if that rum had fallen out of the sky, the last thing those chilled and lonesome men could have hoped for out there in the inhospitable solitude. one of our reasons for seeking little wood cay, which it proved had been close by all the time, was that it is one of the few cays where one can get fresh water. "good water here," says the chart. we wanted to refill some of our jars, and so we landed there, glad to stretch our legs, while old tom cooked our breakfast on the beach, under a sapodilla tree. the vegetation was a little more varied and genial than we had yet seen, and some small white flowers, growing in long lines, as if they had been planted, wafted a very sweet fragrance across our breakfast table of white coral sand. while we were eating, two or three little lizards with tails curiously twirled round and round, like a st. catherine wheel, made themselves friendly, and ate pieces of bread from our hands without fear. now that we knew where we were, it was clear, but by no means careless sailing to our camp. by noon we had made the trip through the bight and, passing out of a narrow creek known as loggerhead creek, were on the southwest side of the island. a hundred and fifty miles or so of straight sailing would have brought us to cuba, but our way lay north up the coast, as we had come down the other. here was the same white water as the day before, with the bluish track showing the deeper channel; the same long, monotonous coast; the same dwarf, rusty-green scrub; not a sign of life anywhere. nothing but the endless blue-streaked white water and the endless desert shore. we were making for what is known as the wide opening, a sort of estuary into which a listless stream or two crawl through mangrove bushes from the interior swamps. but there is one startlingly pleasant river, curiously out of place in its desolate surroundings, which, after running through several miles of marl swamps, enters upon an oasis of fresher foliage and even such stately timber as mahogany, lignum vitæ, and horseflesh; and it was in this oasis, at the close of the third day out, we found ourselves. here, a short distance from the bank, on some slightly ascending rocky ground, under the spreading shade of something like a stretch of woodland, charlie, several years ago, had built a rough log shanty for his camp--one of two or three camps he had thus scattered for himself up and down the "out islands," where nearly all the land is no man's, and so every man's, land. the particular camp at which we had now arrived he had not visited for a long time. "last time i was here," said charlie, laughing, as, having dropped anchor, we rowed ashore, "i thought of what seemed to me an infallible test of the loneliness of the place. let's see how it has worked." the log shanty stood before us, doorless, comfortably tucked in under an umbrella-headed tamarind tree. there was no furniture in it but a rough table. on the table was a bottle, fallen over on its side. this charlie snatched up, with a cry of satisfaction. "what do you think of this?" he said. "not a soul has been here but the turkey-buzzards. the beggars knocked this over, but otherwise it is just as i left it. do you want better proof than this?"--and he held out the bottle for me to look at. it was a quart of scotch whisky, corked and sealed as it had left the distillery. and it had been there for two years! the more the reader ponders this striking fact, the better will he be able to realise the depth of the solitude in which we now found ourselves. while the boys slung the beds, and tom busied himself with dinner, we sat and smoked, and savoured together our satisfaction in our complete and grandiose isolation. "it might well be weeks before any one could find us!" said my friend, eager as a boy lapping up horrors from his favourite author. "yes, weeks!" and then he added: "it was creeks like this the old pirates used to hide in." and so we talked of pirates and buried treasure, while the sun set like a flight of flamingoes over a scene that was indeed like a picture torn from a boy's own book of adventure. then tom brought us our dinner, and the dark began to settle down upon us, thrillingly lonely, and full of strange, desolate cries of night creatures from the mangrove swamps that surrounded our little oasis for miles. not even when tom and i had been alone on "dead men's shoes" had i felt so utterly out of and beyond the world. charlie smacked his big smiling lips at the savage solitude of it. "it's great to get away from everything--like this--isn't it?" he remarked, looking round with huge satisfaction into the homeless haunted wild, with its brooding blackness as of primeval chaos. sailor lay at our feet, dreaming of to-morrow's duck. his master's thoughts were evidently in the same direction. "how are you with a gun?" he asked, turning to the boy. "o! i won't brag. i had better wait till to-morrow. but, of course, you will have to lend me a gun." "i have a beauty for you--just your weight," replied charlie, his face beaming as it did only at the thought of his guns, which he kept polished like jewels and guarded as jealously as a violinist his violin, or an arab his harem. chapter vi _duck._ dawn was just breaking as i felt charlie's great paw on my shoulder next morning. he was very serious. for a moment, as i sat up, still half asleep, i thought he had news of tobias. but it was only duck. he had heard a great quacking during the night, and was impatient to make a start. so was sailor. i was scarcely dressed when tom arrived with breakfast, and in a few minutes we had shouldered our guns, and were crossing the half mile of peaty waste that divided us from the marl lakes from which the night wind had carried that provocative quacking. ahead of us, the crew were carrying the skiffs on their shoulders, and very soon we were each seated in regulation fashion on a canvas chair in front of our respective skiffs, with our guns across our knees, and a negro behind us to do the poling. charlie went ahead, with sailor standing in the bow quivering with excitement. the necessity of absolute silence, of course, had been impressed upon us all by the most severe of all sportsmen. but the admonition was scarcely necessary, for, as the sun rose, the scene that spread before us was beautiful enough to have hushed the most garrulous tongue. far and near stretched misty levels of milkwhite water, in which the mangrove trees made countless islands, sometimes of considerable extent, impenetrable coppices often thirty or forty feet high. from horizon to horizon there was nothing but white water and these coppice-islands of laurel green--one so like another that i marvelled how charlie expected to find his way back to camp again in the evening. as the sun rose, flooding the wide floors with lonely splendour, it smote upon what at first i took to be gleaming clouds of purest silver unrolling before it. it was an angelic host of white herons soaring and circling, stainless spirits of the dawn high up in the fathomless blue. as we stole silently along in our skiffs, it seemed to me that we were invading some sanctuary of morning, "occult, withdrawn," at the far limits of the world. i looked around to see how it was all affecting my young friend. he was close behind, almost at my shoulder--his beautiful young face like that of a greek god in a dream. "isn't it wonderful?" he mused, in that voice like a musical instrument. my heart went out to him in gratitude, for, as i caught sight of charlie's serious figure ahead--with no thought, i was sure, but duck--i realised how lonely i would have been amid all that solemn morning without my young fellow-worshipper. presently, the herons alighted on one of the near-by mangrove coppices, and it was as though the green bushes had suddenly been clothed with miraculous white flowers--or been buried under a fall of virgin snow. high up against the sun, several larger birds were uncouthly gambolling in morning joy. it was hard to believe that they were pelicans--such different birds they seemed from their foolish moping fellows at the zoo. and ah! yonder, riding innocent of danger, filling the morning air with their peaceful quacking, a huge glittering fleet of--teal. at the sight, charlie turned with solemn warning hand--at which i heard my young friend behind me smothering his profane laughter--and made various signs by which tom (who was poling me) and i understood that our job, and also that of my companion, was to steal behind one mangrove copse after another till we had got on the other side of that unsuspecting squadron--which might then be expected to take flight in charlie's direction and rush by him in a terrified whirlwind. this not very easy feat of stalking we were able to accomplish, thereby winning charlie's immense approval and putting him a splendid temper for the rest of the day; for, as the wild cloud swept over him, he was able to bring down no less than seven. like a true sportsman, in telling the story afterward in john saunders's snuggery, he averred that the number was nine! i don't know who was happier; he, or sailor, again and again splashing through the water and returning with a bird in his mouth. as for me, i'm afraid i am but a half-hearted sportsman, for i noticed that, as the bang-bang-bang of the gun shivered the silence like a crystal mirror, those white spirits of the morning, till then massed in dazzling purity on the mangrove coppice, rose once more in a silver cloud and vanished. it was as though beauty were leaving the world. and once more i was thankful for the presence of dreaming and worshipful youth. "i shall hate him in a minute," said the boy, but just then came across the water to him charlie's jovial challenge to show his marksmanship, and he took it forthwith with the same nonchalant skill as he did everything, making, by long odds, as charlie generously admitted, the most brilliant shot of the day. now duck-hunting, while exciting enough in itself, makes unexciting reading, and when i have recorded that charlie's bag for the day was no less than seven and a half dozen (i am not sure that our figures will agree) and related one curious incident of the day, i shall leave the reader to imagine the rest. the incident was this: early in the afternoon, charlie had made one notable killing (five, i think it was; he will correct me if i am wrong), but one of the birds, not quite dead, had fluttered away into a particularly dense coppice. sailor had been sent in after it, but, after a lot of fussing about, came out without his bird. twice charlie sent him in; with the same result. so, growing impatient, he got out of his skiff, went splashing through the marl water himself, and disappeared in the coppice. presently we heard his big laugh, and the next second, his gun. a moment or two after, he reappeared, shouldering a huge black snake. no wonder sailor had been unable to find his bird, for, as charlie had entered the coppice, the first thing he saw was this snake coiled up in the centre, with a curious protuberance bulging out his neck. flying from charlie's gun, the unfortunate duck had landed right into the jaws of the snake! as charlie ripped open the snake's side--there, sure enough, was the duck. so he was added to the day's bag; and, if he was among those tom cooked for dinner when we reached camp again that evening, he had the somewhat unusual experience of being eaten twice in one day. chapter vii _more particularly concerns our young companion._ the days that now followed for a week might be said to be accurate copies of that first day. had one kept a diary, it would have been necessary to write only: "ditto," "ditto," "ditto" under the happenings of the first. wonderful dawn--ditto; white herons and pelicans--ditto; duck--ditto. but they were none the less delightful for that--for there is a sameness that is far indeed from monotony--though i will confess that, for my own tastes, toward the week-end, the carnage of duck began to partake a little of that latter quality. still, charlie and sailor were so happy that i wouldn't have let them suspect that for the world. besides, i had my wonderful young friend, to whom i grew daily more attached. he and i, of course, were of the same mind on the subject of duck, and, as often as possible, would give charlie the slip and explore the ins and outs of the mangrove islands--merely for beauty's sake, or in study of the queer forms of life dimly and uncouthly climbing the ladder of being in those strange solitudes. in these comradely hours together, i found myself feeling drawn to him as i can imagine a young father is drawn to a young son; and sometimes i seemed to see in his eyes the suggestion of a confidence he was on the edge of making me--a whimsical, pondering expression, as though wondering whether he dare to tell me or not. "what is it, jack?" i asked him for once when, early in our acquaintance, we had asked him what we were to call him, he had answered with a laugh: "o! call me jack--jack harkaway." we had laughed, reminding him of the schoolboy hero of that name and he had answered: "never mind. one name is as good as another. that is my name when i go on adventures. tell me your adventure names. i don't want your prosaic every-day names." "well," i had replied, entering into the lad's humour, "my friend here is sir francis drake, and i, well--i'm sir henry morgan." "what is it, jack?" i repeated. but he shook his head. "no!" he replied, "i like you ever so much--and i wish i could; but i mustn't." "somebody else's secret again?" i ventured. "yes!" and he added: "this time it's mine too. but--some day perhaps; who knows?--" he broke off in boyish confusion. "all right, dear jack," i said, patting his shoulder, "take your own time. we're friends anyway." "that we are," responded the lad, with a fine glow. we left it so at the moment, and had ourselves poled in the direction of charlie's voice, which was breaking mirror after mirror of exquisite lagoon-like silence with demands for our return to camp. he evidently had shot all the duck he wanted, for that day, and was beginning to be hungry for dinner. yet, i mustn't be too hard on charlie, for, as we know, even charlie had another object in his trip besides duck. as a certain poet brutally puts it, he had anticipated also "the hunting of man." in addition, though it is against the law of those britannic islands, he had promised me a flamingo or two for decorative purposes. however, flamingoes and tobias alike kept out of gunshot, and, as the week grew toward its end, charlie began to grow a little restive. "it looks," he murmured one evening, as we had completed our fourteenth meal of roast duck, and were musing over our after-duck cigars, "it looks as if i am not going to have any use for this." he had taken a paper from his pocket. it was a warrant with which he had provided himself, empowering him to arrest the said henry p. tobias, or the person passing under that name, on two counts: first, that of seditious practices, with intent to spread treason among his majesty's subjects, and, second, that of wilful murder on the high seas. i should say that, following my recital of the eventful cruise of the _maggie darling,_ old tom and i had been required to make sworn depositions of tobias's share in the happenings of that cruise, the murder of the captain and so forth, and i too had surrendered as evidence that eloquent manifesto which i had seen tobias reading to the ill-fated george and "silly" theodore, and had afterward discussed with him. the probabilities were that the government would treat tobias's case as that of a dangerous madman, rather than as a hanging matter, but, whatever its point of view, it was clearly undesirable for such an individual to remain at large. so the governing powers in nassau, with whom charlie webster was _persona grata,_ had been glad to take advantage of his enthusiastic patriotism and invest him with constabulary powers, hoping that he might have an opportunity of using them. personally, he was rather ashamed of having to employ such tame legal methods. from his point of view, shooting at sight was all that tobias deserved, and to give him a trial by jury was an absurdity of legal red-tape. in this respect he agreed with the great mr. pickwick, that "the law is a hass." it was always england's way, he said, and, if she didn't mind, this leniency to traitors would some day be her undoing! charlie put the despised, yet precious, warrant back into his pocket, and gazed disgustedly across the creek, where the loveliest of young moons was rising behind a frieze of the homeless, barbaric brush. "there was never such a place in the world," he asserted, "to hide in--or get lost in--or to starve in. i have often thought that it would make the most effective prison in the world. instead of spending good public money in housing and feeding scoundrels behind bars, and paying officials to keep them there, supporting expensive establishments at dartmoor and so forth, why doesn't the british government export her convicts over here, land them on one of those mangrove shoals, and--give them their freedom! five per cent. might succeed in escaping. the mangrove swamps would look after the rest." as i have said, charlie was a terrifying patriot. for most offences he had the humanity of a vast forgiveness. he was, generally speaking, the softest-hearted man i have ever met. but for any breach of the sacred laws of england he was something like a spanish inquisitor. england, in fact, was his religion. i have heard of worse. the young moon rose and rose, while charlie sat in the dusk of our shanty, like a meditative mountain, saying nothing, the glowing end of his cigar occasionally hinting at the circumference of his broad elizabethan face. "i'll get him, all the same," he said presently, coming out of a sort of trance, in which, as i understood later, his mind had been making a geographical survey of our neighbourhood, going up and down every creek and corner on a radius of fifty miles. "if," he added, "he knows this island better than i do, i'll give him this warrant to eat for his breakfast.... but let's turn in. i'll think it out by the morning. night brings counsel." so we sought our respective cots; but i had scarcely begun to undress, when a foolish accident for which i was responsible happened, an accident that might have had serious consequences, and which, as a matter of fact did have--though not at the moment. as i told the reader at the beginning of this story, i am not accustomed to guns--being too afraid of my bad temper. charlie knew this, and was all the time cautioning me about holding my gun right and so on, and especially about shaking out any unused cartridges at the end of the day's shoot. well, this special night, i had forgotten his warnings. neglecting everything a man should do to his gun when he is finished with it for the day, i had left two cartridges in it, left the trigger on the hair-brink of eternity, and other enormities for which charlie presently, and quite rightly, abashed me with profanity; in short, my big toe tripped over the beast as it stood carelessly against the wall of my cabin, and, as it fell, i received the contents in the fleshy part of my shoulder. the explosion brought the whole crew out of their shanty, in a state of gesticulating nature, and, as charlie, growling like a bear, was helping to bring first aid, suddenly our young friend jack--whose romantic youth preferred sleeping outside in a hammock slung between two palm trees--put him aside. "i know better how to do this than you, sir francis," he said, laughing. "same as the sharks, eh?" said charlie. "just the same ... but, let's have a look at your medicine chest, and give me the lint quick." so jack took charge, and acted with such confidence and skill,--finally binding up my wound, which was but a slight one--that charlie stood by dumbfounded and with a curious soft look in his face which i didn't understand till later. the tears came into my eyes at the wonderful tenderness of the lad, as he bent over me. "do i hurt you?" he kept saying. "you and i are pals, you know." "you don't hurt me a bit, dear jack," i answered; "what a clever lad you are!" then jack looked up for a moment, and caught charlie's wondering look; and, it seemed to me that he changed colour, and looked frightened. "sir francis is jealous," he said; "but i've finished now. i guess you'll sleep all right after that dose i gave you. good night...." and he slipped away. jack had proved himself a practised surgeon, and, as he predicted, i slept well--so well and so far into next morning that charlie at last had to waken me. "what do you think?" were his first words. "why, what?" i asked, sitting up, and wincing from my wounded shoulder. "our young friend has skipped in the night!" "'skipped?'" i exclaimed, with a curious ache at my heart. "sure enough! gone off on that little nigger sloop that dropped in here yesterday afternoon, i guess." "you don't mean it?" "no doubt of it--i wonder whether you've had the same thought as i had." "what do you mean?" "you know i always said there was a mystery about that boy?" "well, what of it?" "did you notice the way he bound your shoulder last night?" "what of it?" "did you ever see a man bind a wound like that?" "what do you mean?" "i mean simply that the mystery about our jack harkaway was just this: jack harkaway was no boy at all--but just a girl; a brick of a dare-devil girl!" chapter viii _better than duck._ charlie webster's discovery--if discovery it was--of "jack harkaway's" true sex seemed so far plausible in that it accounted not only for much that had seemed mysterious about him and his manner, but also (though this i did not mention to charlie) it accounted for certain dim feelings of my own, of which, before, i had been scarcely conscious. but we were not long left to continue our speculations, being presently interrupted by the arrival of exciting news--news which, i need hardly say, promptly drove all thought of "jack harkaway" out of charlie webster's head, though it was not so soon to be banished from mine. the news came in the form of a note from father serapion. he had sent it by the captain of a sponging schooner, who, in turn, had sent it by two of his men in a rowboat, not being able to venture up the creek himself owing to the northeast wind which was blowing so hard, that, as sometimes happens on that coast, he might have been left high and dry. father serapion's note simply confirmed his conjecture that it was tobias who had bought rum at behring's point, and that he was probably somewhere in the network of creeks and marl lagoons in our neighbourhood. telling tom to give the men a good breakfast, charlie thought the news over. "i'll tell you what we'll do," he said presently. "i'm going to leave you here--and i'm going to charter the sponger out there. this river we are on comes out of a sound that spreads directly south--turner's sound. turner's sound has two outlets: this, and goose river ten miles down the shore. now, if tobias is inside here, he can only get out either down here, or down goose river. i am going down in the sponger to the mouth of goose river, to keep watch there; and you must stay where you are, and keep watch here. between the two of us, a week will starve him out. or, if not, i'll chase after him up goose river; and in that case, he'll have to come down here--and it will be up to you, for i don't believe he'll have the nerve to try walking across the marl ponds to the east coast." so it was settled, and, presently, charlie went along with two of his best guns and sailor, in the rowboat, and i saw him no more for a week. meanwhile, i kept watch and studied the scenery, and old tom and i talked about the strange people who inhabited the interior--those houses that moved away into the mist as soon as you caught sight of them. some day old tom and i are going to explore the interior, for he is not so much afraid of ghosts as he was, since we tried them out together. at the end of the week, the wind was blowing strong from the west and the tides ran high. about noon we caught sight of triumphant sails making up the river. it was charlie back again. "got him!" was all he said, as he rowed ashore. sailor was with him in the rowboat, but i noticed that he was limping, going on three legs. "yes!" said charlie. "it's lucky for tobias he only got sailor's foot, or, by the living god, i'd have stood my trial for manslaughter, or whatever they call it. it'll soon be all right, old man," he said, taking sailor's wounded paw in his hand, "soon be all right." sailor wagged his tail vigorously, to show that a gunshot through one of his legs was a mere nothing. "yes!" said charlie, as we sat at lunch in the shack, under the tamarind tree; "we've got him safe there under decks all right; chained up like a buoy. if he can get away, i'll believe in the devil." "won't you tell me about it?" i asked. "not much to tell; too easy altogether. i waited a couple of days at the mouth of goose river. then i got tired, and left the sponger with the captain and two or three men, while i went up the river with a couple of guns and sailor, and a man to pole the skiff--just for some duck-shooting, you know. we lay low, for two days, on the marshes, and then sailor got sniffing the wind one morning, as if there was something around he didn't care much for. the day before, we had heard firing a mile or so inland, and had come upon some duck that some one or other had shot and hadn't had time to pick up. so, that morning, i let sailor lead the way. we had been out about an hour, and were stealing under the lee of a big mangrove island, after some duck we had sighted a little to the eastward, when, suddenly, apparently without anything to alarm them, they rose from the water and came flying in our direction. but evidently something, or somebody, had startled them. they came right by me. it was hard luck not to be able to take a shot at them. i could have got a dozen of them at least." "probably more," i suggested. "i really believe i could," agreed charlie, in entire innocence. "well, as i have said, it was hard luck; but sailor seemed to have something on his mind, beside duck. as we poled along silently in the direction from which the duck had risen, he grew more and more excited, and, at last, as we neared a certain mangrove copse to which all the time he had been pointing, he barked two or three times, and, i let him go. poor old fellow!" as he told the story, sailor, who seemed to understand every word, rubbed his head against his master's hand. "he went into the mangroves, just as he'd go after duck, but he'd hardly gone in, when there were two shots, and he came out limping, making for me. but, by this, i was close up to the mangroves myself, and in another minute, i was inside; and there, just like that old black snake you remember, was tobias--his gun at his shoulder. he had a pot at me, but, before he could try another, i knocked him down with my fist--and--well, we've got him all right. and now you can go after your treasure, as soon as you like. i'll take him over to nassau, and you can fool around for the next month or so. of course we'll need you at the trial, but that won't come off for a couple of months. meanwhile, you can let me know where you are, in case i should need to get hold of you." "all right, old man," i said, "but i wish you were coming along with me." "i've got all the treasure i want," laughed charlie. "but don't you want to come and interview our friend? he might give you some pointers on your treasure hunt." "how does he take it?" i asked. "pretty cool. he talked a little big at first, but now he sits with his head between his hands, and you can't get a word out of him. something up his sleeve, i dare say." "i don't think i'll bother to see him, charlie," i said. "i'm kind of sorry for him." charlie looked at me. "sorry for him?" "yes! in fact, i rather like him." "like him?" charlie bellowed; "the pock-marked swine!" "i grant," i said, smiling, and recalling charlie's own words of long ago, "that his face is against him." "rather like him? you must be crazy! you certainly have the rummiest taste." "at least you'll admit this much, charlie," i said; "he has courage--and i respect courage even in a cockroach--particularly, perhaps, in a cockroach ..." "he's a cockroach, all right," said charlie. "maybe," i assented. "i don't pretend to love him, but--" "if you don't mind," interrupted charlie, "we'll let it go at 'but'--". and he rose. "the tide's beginning to run out. send me word where you are, as soon as you get a chance; and good luck to you, old chap, and your doubloons and pieces of eight!" then we walked down to his row-boat, and soon he was aboard the sponger. her sails ran up, and they were off down stream--poor tobias, manacled, somewhere between decks. "see you in nassau!" i shouted. "right-o!" came back the voice of the straightest and simplest englishman in the world. book iii _across the scarce-awakened sea, with white sail flowing, and morning glowing, i come to thee--i come to thee._ _past lonely beaches, and gleaming reaches, and long reefs foaming, homing--homing-- a-done with roaming, i come to thee._ _the moon is failing, a petal sailing down in the west that bends o'er thee; and the stars are hiding, as we go gliding back to the nest, ah! back to thee._ book iii chapter i _in which we gather shells--and other matters._ with charlie gone, and duck-shooting not being one of my passions, there was nothing to detain me in andros. so we were soon under way, out of the river, and heading north up the western shore of the big monotonous island. we had some fifty miles to make before we reached its northern extremity--and, all the way, we seldom had more than two fathoms of water, and the coast was the same interminable line of mangroves and thatch palms, with occasional clumps of pine trees, and here and there the mouth of a creek, leading into duck-haunted swamps. it was evident that the island kept its head above water with difficulty, and that the course we were running over was all the time aspiring to be dry land, right away from the coast to the florida channel. for miles west and north, it would have been impossible to find more than three fathoms. as i said of the east coast, inside the reef, it was a vast swimming bath, but of greater dimensions, a swimming bath with a floor of alabaster, and water that seemed to be made of dissolved moonstones. for a while, our going seemed very much as though we were sailing a big toy-boat in an illimitable porcelain bathtub. there were no rocks to look out for, no shoals in what was really one vast shoal, and all was smooth as milk. all the afternoon, till the sun set and the stars came out and we dropped our anchor in a luminous nothingness, a child could have navigated us; but, when the next day brought us up to the northwest corner of andros, we found ourselves face to face with a variety of difficulties: glimmering sandbars, reaches of moon-white shoals, patches of half-made land with pines struggling knee-deep in the tide; here and there a mile of mangroves, and delusive channels of blue water; beauty everywhere spreading out her sweeping laces of foam--a welter of a world still in its making, with no clear passages for any craft drawing more than a canoe. loveliness everywhere--again the waving purple fans, and the heraldic fish, and the branching coral mysteriously making the world. loveliness everywhere!--in fact a labyrinth of beauty with no way out. and the captain, like nearly every captain i have met in the bahamas, knew as little about it as i did. charlie had been right; you must know how to sail your own boat when you hoist your sails in bahaman waters. i confess that i began to regret charlie's preoccupation with tobias--for, in spite of his missing his way that day in the north bight, charlie seems to know his way in the dark wherever one happens to be on the sea. however, there was really nothing to worry us. there was no wind. the weather was calm, and there was lots of time. at last, after studying the chart and talking it over with tom, who though he had only shipped as cook, was the best sailor on board, we decided to run north, and take a channel described on the chart as "very intricate." at last we came to a little foam-fringed cay, where it was conceivable that the shyest and rarest of shells would choose to make its home--a tiny aristocrat, driven out of the broad tideways by the coarser ambitions and the ruder strength of great molluscs that feed and grow fat and house themselves in crude convolutions of uncouthly striving horn; a little lonely shore, kissed with the white innocence of the sea, where pearls might secretly make themselves perfect, untroubled by the great doings of wind and tide--merely rocked into beauty by ripple and beam, with a teardrop falling, once in a while, into their dim growing hearts, from some wavering distant star. it was impossible to imagine a cay better answering to my conchologist's description of short shrift island. its situation and general character, too, bore out the surmise. on landing, also, we found that it answered in two important particulars to tobias's narrative. we found, as he had declared, that there was good water there for passing ships. also, we found, in addition to the usual scrub, that cabbage-wood trees grew there very plentifully, particularly, as he said, on the highest part of the island. our conjectures were presently confirmed by the captain of a little sponging boat that, an hour after our arrival, put in for water. yes, he said, it was ---- cay (giving it the name by which it was generally known, and by which the conchologist had first mentioned it to me). so, having talked it all over with tom, i decided that here we would stay for a time, and try our luck. but, first, having heard from the sponging captain, that he was en route for nassau, i gave him a letter to charlie webster, telling him of our whereabouts, in case he should have sudden need of me with regard to tobias. it was too late to begin treasure-hunting that day, but tom and i made an early start, the following morning, prospecting the island--i having set the men to work gathering shells, in the hope of being able to oblige my shell-loving friend. the island was but a small cay compared with that of dead men's shoes,--on which we had so memorably laboured side by side--some five miles long and two broad. it was a pretty little island, rising here and there into low hills, and surprising us now and again with belts of pine trees. but, of course, the cabbage-wood tree was our special tree; and, as i said before, this grew plentifully. all too plentifully, indeed; and cabbage-wood stumps, alas! were scarcely more rare. the reader may recall that tobias's narrative, in reference to his second "pod" of one million dollars, had run: "_on the highest point of this short shrift island is a large cabbage-wood stump, and twenty feet south of that stump is the treasure, buried five feet deep and can be found without difficulty._" but which was the highest point? there were several hillocks that might claim to be that--all about equal in height. we visited them all in succession. there was a "large cabbage-wood stump" on each and all of them! it had seemed an absurdly inadequate direction, even as we had talked the narrative over in john saunders's snuggery. but, confronted with so many "large cabbage-wood stumps," one began to suspect henry p. tobias of having been a humourist, and to wonder whether john saunders was not right after all, and the whole manuscript merely a hoax for the benefit of buried-treasure cranks like myself. however, as the high points of the island were only seven in all, it was no difficult matter to try them all out, one by one, as we had plenty of time and plenty of hands for the work. for, of course, it would have been idle to attempt any concealment of my object from the crew. therefore, i took them from their shell-gathering, and, having duly measured out twenty feet south from each promising cabbage-wood stump, set them to work. they worked with a will, for i promised them a generous share of whatever we found. alas! it was an inexpensive promise, for, when we had duly turned up the ground, not only twenty feet, but thirty, forty, and fifty feet, not only south but north, east and west of the various cabbage-wood stumps on the seven various eminences, we were none of us the richer by a single piece of eight. then we tried the other cabbage-wood stumps on lower ground, and any other likely looking spots, till, after working for nearly a fortnight, we must have dug up most of the island. and then tom came to me with the news that our provisions were beginning to give out. as it was, he said, before we returned to nassau, we should have to put in at flying fish cove--a small settlement on the larger island some five miles to the nor'ard,--for the purchase of various necessities. "all right, tom," i said, "i guess the game is up! let's start out to-morrow morning." and then i betook myself, like the great philosopher, to gathering shells on the sea-shore, finding some specimens which, to my unlearned eye, seemed identical with that shell so dear to the learned conchologist's heart. the following afternoon we put in at flying fish cove, a neat little settlement, with a pretty show of sponging craft at anchor, a few prosperous-looking houses on the hill-side, and a sprinkling of white, or half-white, people in the streets. i instructed tom and the captain to stock in whatever we needed. we would lie there that night, and in the morning we would make a start, homeward-bound, for nassau. "you may as well have your sucking fish back, tom," i said, laughing in self-disgust. "i shall have no more need of it. i am through with treasure-hunting." "i'd keep it a little longer, sar," answered tom; "you never know." chapter ii _in which i catch a glimpse of a different kind of treasure._ i had, as i have said, made up my mind to start on the homeward trip early the following morning, but something happened that very evening to change my plans. i had dropped into the little settlement's one store, to buy some tobacco, the only kind that charlie webster--who carried his british loyalty into the smallest concerns of life, declared fit to smoke--some english plug of uncommon strength, not to say ferocity, a real manly tobacco such as one might imagine the favourite chew of pirates and smugglers. i stayed chatting with the storekeeper--a lean, astute-looking englishman, with the un-english name of sweeney--who made a pretty good thing of selling his motley merchandise to the poor natives, on the good old business principle of supplying goods of the poorest possible quality at the highest possible prices. he was said to hold a mortgage on the lives of half the population, by letting them have goods on credit against their prospective wages from sponging trips, he himself being the owner of three or four sponging sloops, and so doubly insured against loss. his low-ceilinged, black-beamed store, dimly lit with kerosene lamps, was a wilderness of the most unattractive merchandise the mind of man can conceive, lying in heaps on trestles, hanging from the rafters, and cluttering up every available inch of space, so that narrow lanes only were left among dangling tinware, coils of rope, coarse bedding, barrels in which very unappetising pork lay steeping in brine, other barrels overflowing with grimy looking "grits" and sailors' biscuits, drums of kerosene and turpentine, cans of paint, jostling clusters of bananas, strings of onions, dried fish, canned meats, loaves of coarse bread, tea and coffee, and other simple groceries. two rough planks laid on barrels made the counter, up to which from time to time rather worn-looking, spiritless negro women and girls would come to make their purchases, and then shuffle off again in their listless way. once in a while a sturdy negro would drop in for tobacco, with a more independent, well-fed air. the englishman served them all with a certain contemptuous indifference in which one somehow felt the presence of the whip-hand. while he was thus attending a little group of such customers, i had wandered toward the back of the store, curiously examining the thousand and one commodities which supplied the strange needs of humanity here in this lost corner of the world; and, thus occupied, i was diverted by a voice like sudden music, a voice oddly rich and laughing and confident for such grim and sinister surroundings. it was one, too, which i seemed to have heard before, and not so very long ago. when i turned in its direction, i was immediately arrested, as one always is by any splendour of vitality; for a startling contrast indeed--to the spiritless, furtive figures that had been coming and going hitherto--was this superb young creature, tall and lithe with proudly carried head on glorious shoulders. her skin was a golden olive, and it had been hard to say which was the more intensely black--her hair, or the proud eyes which, turning presently in my direction, seemed to strike upon me as with an actual impact of soft fire. i swear i could feel them touch me, as it were, with a warm ray, the radiating glow of her fragrant vitality enfolding me as in a burning golden cloud. i wondered whether her glance enfolded everything she looked on in the same way. perhaps it was but the unconsciously exerted force of her superb young womanhood intensely alive. yet--there was too a significant wild shyness about her. my presence seemed at once to put her on her guard. the music of her voice was suddenly hushed, as though she had hurriedly, almost in terror, thrown a robe of reticence about an impulsive naturalness not to be displayed before strangers. as for the storekeeper, he was evidently a familiar acquaintance. he had known her--he said, after she was gone--since she was a little girl. while he spoke, my eyes had accidentally fallen on the coin still in his hand, with which she had just paid him. "excuse me," i said, "but that is a curious-looking coin." i thought that a shade of annoyance passed over his face, as though he had been better pleased if i had not noticed it. however, it was too late, and he handed it to me to examine--a large antique-looking gold coin. "why!" i said, "this is a spanish doubloon!" "that's what it is," said the englishman laconically. "but doesn't it strike you as strange that she should pay her bills with spanish doubloons?" i asked. "it did at first," he answered; and then, as if annoyed with himself, he was attempting to retrieve an expression that carried an implication he evidently didn't wish me to retain, he added: "of course, she doesn't always pay in spanish doubloons." "but she does sometimes?" "o! once in a great while," he answered, evasively. "i suppose they have a few old coins in the family, and use them when they run out of others." it was as lame an explanation as well could be, and no one could doubt that, whatever his reason for so doing, he was lying. "but haven't you trouble in disposing of them?" i enquired. "gold is always gold," he answered, "and we don't see enough of it here to be particular as to whose head is stamped upon it, or what date. besides, as i said, it isn't as if i got many of them; and you can always dispose of them as curiosities." "will you sell me this one?" i asked. "i see no harm in your having it," he said, "but i'd just as soon you didn't mention where you got it." "certainly," i answered, disguising my wonder at his secretiveness. "what is it worth?" he named the sum of sixteen dollars and seventy-five cents. having paid him that amount, i bade him good-night, glad to be alone with my eager, glowing thoughts. these i took with me to a bit of coral beach made doubly white by the moon, rustled over by giant palms, and whispered to by the vast living jewel of the sea. surely my thoughts had a brightness to match even this glitter of the night. i took out my strange doubloon, and flashed it in the moon. but, brightly as it shone, it hardly seemed as bright as it would have seemed a short while back; or, perhaps, it were truer to say that in another, newer aspect it shone a hundred times more brightly. the adventure to which it called me was no longer single and simple as before, but a gloriously confused goal of cloudy splendours, the burning core of which--suddenly raying out, and then lost again in brightness--were the eyes of a mysterious girl. chapter iii _under the influence of the moon._ my days now began to drift rather aimlessly, as without apparent purpose i continued to linger on an island that might well seem to have little attraction to a stranger--how little i could see by the mystification of the good tom, in whom, for once, of course, i could not confide. yet i had a vague purpose; or, at least, i had a feeling that, if i waited on, something would develop in the direction of my hopes. that doubloon still suggested that it was the key to a door of fascinating mystery to which chance might at any moment direct me. and--why not admit it?--apart from my buried treasure, to the possible discovery of which the doubloon seemed to point, i was possessed with a growing desire for another glimpse of those haunting eyes. they needed not their association with the mysterious gold, they were magnetic enough to draw any man, with even the rudiments of imagination, along the path of the unknown. all the paths out of the little settlement were paths into the unknown, and, day after day, i followed one or another of them out into the wilderness, taking a gun with me, as an ostensible excuse for any spying eye, and bringing back with me occasional bags of the wild pigeons which were plentiful on the island. one day i had thus wandered unusually far afield, and at nightfall found myself still several miles from home, on a rocky path overhanging the sea. the coast-line had been gradually mounting in a series of precipitous headlands, at the foot of which the sea made a low booming that suggested hidden caves. looking over the edge in places, one could see that it had hollowed out the porous rock well under the base of the cliffs, and here and there fallen masses of boulder told of a gradual encroachment which, in course of time, would topple down into the abyss the precarious pathway on which i stood. inland the usual level scrub gave place to a stretch of wild forest, very dense, and composed of trees of many varieties, loftier than was usual on the island. there was no sign of habitation anywhere. it was a wild and lonely place, and presently over its savage beauty stole the glamour of the moon rising far over the sea. i sat down on a ledge of the cliffs, and watched the moonlight grow in intensity, as the darkness of the woods deepened behind me. it was a night full of witchcraft; a night on which the stars, the moon, and the sea together seemed hinting at some wonderful thing about to happen. far down in the clear water i could see the giant sea-fans waving in a moony twilight, touched eerily in those glassy depths with sudden rays of the spectral light; soft bowers of phosphorescence spread a secret radiance about dimly branching coral groves. and, all the while, the path of the moon over the sea was growing stronger--laying, it would seem, an even firmer pathway of silver stretching to the very foot of the cliff-side. i am not given to quoting poetry, but involuntarily there came to my mind some lines remembered from boyhood: if on some balmy summer night you rowed across the moon-path white, and saw the shining sea grow fair with silver scales and golden hair-- what would you do? "what would you do?" i repeated dreamily, thinking very likely as i said them, of two eyes of mysteriously enfolding fire; and then, as if the fairy night were matching the words with a challenge, what was this bright wonder suddenly present on one of the boulders far down beneath me?--a tall shape of witchcraft whiteness, standing, full in the moon, like a statue in luminous marble of some goddess of antiquity. only once before, and but for a moment, had i seen a woman's form so proudly flowerlike in its superb erectness! my eyes and my heart together told me it was she; and, as she hung poised over the edge of the water, in the attitude of one about to dive, a turn of her head gave me that longed-for glimpse of those living eyes filled with moonlight. she stood another moment, still as the night, in her loveliness; and the next, she had dived directly into the path of the moon. i saw her eyes moon-filled again, as she came to the surface, and began to swim--not, as one might have expected, out from the land, but directly in toward the unseen base of the cliffs. the moon-path _did_ lead to a golden door in the rocks, i said to myself, and she was about to enter it. it was a secret door known only to herself; and then, for the first time that night, i thought of that doubloon. perhaps if i had not thought of it, i should not have done what then i did. there will, doubtless, be those who will censure me. if so, i am afraid they must. at all events, it was the thought of that doubloon that swayed the balance of my hesitation in taking the moon-path in the track of that bright apparition. the pursuit of my hidden treasure had long been so fixed an idea in my mind that a scruple would have had to be strong indeed to withstand my impulse to follow up so exciting a clue. (when, alas! has the pursuit of gold heeded any scruples?) or it is quite possible that a radically different inclination held this materialistic excuse as a cloak for itself. a moment of such glamorous excitement may well account for some confused psychology. i leave it to others who, less fortunate than i, were not exposed to the breathless enchantments of that immortal night, those sorceries of a situation lovely as the wildest dreams of the heart. i looked about for a way down to the edge of the sea. it was not easy to find, but after much perilous scrambling, i at length found myself on the boulder which had so lately been the pedestal of that radiance; and, in another moment, i had dived into the moon-path and was swimming toward the mysterious golden door. before me the rocks opened in a deep narrow crevasse, a long rift, evidently slashing back into the cliff, beneath the road on which i had been treading. i could see the moonlit water vanishing into a sort of gleaming lane between the vast overhanging walls. in a few moments i was near the entrance, but, as yet, i could not touch bottom with my feet, and so i swam on into the giant portal, into a twilight which was still luminous with reflections, and to which my eyes readily accustomed themselves. presently i felt my feet rest lightly on firm sand, and, still shoulder deep in the water, i walked on another yard or two--to be brought to a sudden stop. there she was coming toward me, breast high in that watery tunnel! the moon, continuing its serene ascension, lit her up with a sudden beam. o! shape of bloom and glory! for a moment we both stood looking at each other, as if transfixed. then she gave a frightened cry, and put her hands up to her bosom; as she did so, a stream of something bright--like gold pieces--fell from her mouth, and two like streams from her opened hands. then, as quick as light, she had darted past me, and dived into the moon-path beyond. she must have swam under the water a long way, for when i saw her dark head rise again in the glimmering path, it was at a distance of many yards. i had no thought of following her, but stood in a dream among the watery gleams and echoes. so, once in a lifetime, for a few fortunate ones, all the various magics of the earth, all the mysterious hints and promises of her loveliness that make the heart overflow with a prophetic sense of some supernatural happiness on the brink of coming to pass, combine in one supreme shape of beauty, given to us by divine ordering, on the starlit summit of one immortal hour. for me had come that hour of wonder; for me out of that tropic sea, into whose flawless deeps my eyes had so often gone adream, had risen the creature of miracle. o! shape of moonlit marble! o! holiness of this night of moon and stars and sea! chapter iv _in which i meet a very strange individual._ yes! i was in love. yet i hope, and think, that the reader will not resent this unexpected incursion into the realms of sentiment when he considers that my sudden attack was not, like most such sudden attacks, an interruption in the robuster course of events, but, instead, curiously in the direct line of my purpose. because the eyes of an unknown girl had thus suddenly enthralled me, i was not, therefore, to lose sight of that purpose. on the contrary, they had suddenly shone out on the pathway along which i had been blindly groping. but for the accident of being in the dirty little store at so psychological a moment, hearing that strangely familiar voice and catching sight of that mysterious doubloon as well as those mysterious eyes, i should have set sail that very night, and given up john p. tobias's second treasure in final disgust. as it was, i was now warmly on the track of some treasure--whether his or not--with two bright eyes further to point the way. never surely did a man's love and his purpose make so practical a conjunction. when i reached my lodging at last in the early morning following that night of wonders, my eyes and heart were not so dazed with that vision in the cave that i did not vividly recall one important detail of the strange picture--those streams of gold that had suddenly poured out of the mouth and hands of the lovely apparition. need i say that over and over again the picture kept coming before me?--haunting me like that princess from my childhood's fairy-book, from whose mouth, as she spoke, poured all manner of precious stones. we all remember that--and had i not seen the very thing itself with my own grown-up eyes? no wonder it all seemed like a dream, when, late next forenoon, i woke from a deep sleep that had been long in overtaking me. yet, there immediately in my mind's eye, without any shadow of doubt, was the beautiful picture once more, vivid and exact in every detail. without doubting the evidence of my senses, i was forced to believe that, by the oddest piece of luck, i had stumbled upon the hiding-place of that hoard of doubloons, on which my fair unknown drew from time to time as she would out of a bank. but who was she?--and where was her home? there had seemed no sign of habitation near the wild place where i had come upon her, though, of course, a solitary house might easily have escaped my notice hidden among all that foliage, particularly at nightfall. to be sure, i had but to enquire of the storekeeper to learn all i wanted; but i was averse from betraying my interest to him or to any one in the settlement--for, after all, it was my own affair, and hers. so i determined to pursue my policy of watching and waiting, letting a day or two elapse before i again went out wandering with my gun. probably she would be making another trip to the settlement, before long. doubtless, it was for that purpose that she was visiting her very original safety-deposit vault when i had come so embarrassingly upon her. however, inaction, in the circumstances, was difficult, and when two days had gone without bringing any sign of her, i determined to follow the trail of my last expedition, and find out whether that strip of rocky coast, with its hidden cavern, actually did stand firm somewhere on the solid earth, or was merely a phantom coast fronting "the foam of perilous seas in faery-land forlorn." as a matter of fact, i did find it, after having lost my way in the thick brush several times before doing so. i reckoned, when at last i emerged upon it, that it was a distance of some six or seven miles from the settlement, though, owing to my ignorance of the way, it had taken me a whole morning to cover it. did _she_ have to thread these thorny thickets every time she came to the little town? no; doubtless she was acquainted with some easier and shorter path. however, here was the cliff-bastioned sea-front, and down there was the boulder on which she had stood like a statue in the moonlight. i craned my neck over the edge of the cliffs to catch sight of the entrance to her cave--but in vain. nor was there apparent any way of reaching it from above. evidently it was only approachable from the sea. then i looked about for some signs of a house; but, though it was full noon-day, the forest presented an unbroken front of close-growing trees, and a rich confusion of various foliage uncommon on those islands. i counted at least a dozen varieties, among which were horseflesh, wild tamarind, redwood, pigeon-plum, poison wood, gum-elemi, fig, logwood, and mahogany. evidently there was an unusually thick layer of soil over the coral rock in this part of the island, which was in the main composed of the usual clinker and scrub--where it was not mangrove swamp. yet in spite of appearances, it was certain that there must be some sort of dwelling there-about, and not so very far off either--unless, indeed, my mysterious girl was but a mermaid after all. so i left the craggy bluff facing the sea, and plunged into the woods. i had no idea how dark it was going to be, but, coming out of the sun, i was at once bewildered by the deep and complicated gloom of massed branches overhead, and the denser darkness of shrubs and vines so intricately interwoven, as almost to make a solid wall about one. then the atmosphere was so close and airless that a fear of suffocation combined at once with the other fear of being swallowed up in all this savage green life, without hope of finding one's way out again into the sun. i had fought my way in but a very few yards when both these fears clutched hold of me with a sudden horror, and the perspiration poured from me; i could no longer distinguish between the way i had come and any other part of the wood! indeed, there was no way anywhere! it was now only a question of sturdy fighting and squirming one's way through the meshes of a gigantic basketwork of every variety of fantastic branch and stem and stout strangling thorn-set vine, made the denser with snaky roots--not merely twisting about one's feet, but dropping from the boughs in nooses and festoons for one's neck; air-plants too, like birds' nests, further choking up the meshes, and hanging moss, like rotting carpets, adding still more to the murk and curious squalor of a foul fertility where beauty, like humanity, found it impossible to breathe. i must have battled through this veritable inferno of vegetation for at least an hour--though it seemed a life-time. clouds of particularly unpleasant midges filled my eyes, not to speak of mosquitoes, and a peculiar kind of persistent stinging fly was adding to my miseries, when at last, begrimed and dripping with sweat, i stumbled out, with a cry of thankfulness, on to comparatively fresh air, and something like a broad avenue running north and south through the wood. it was indeed densely overgrown, and had evidently not been used for many years. still, it was comparatively passable, and one could at least see the sky, and take long breaths once more. the rock here emerged again in places through the scanty soil, but it had evidently been levelled here and there, so as to make it serve as a rough but practicable road, though plainly it was years since any vehicles had passed that way. still, there was no sign of a house anywhere. presently, however, as i stumbled along, i noticed something looming darkly through the matted forest on my left, that suggested walls. looking closer, i saw that it was the ruin of a small stone cottage, roofless, and indescribably swallowed up in the pitiless scrub. and then, near by, i descried another such ruin, and still another--all, as it were, sunk in the terrible gloom of the vegetation, as sometimes, at low tide, one can discern the walls of a ruined village at the bottom of the sea. as i struggled on, and my eyes grew accustomed to looking for them, i detected still more of these ruins, of various shapes and sizes, impenetrably smothered but a few yards inward on each side of the road. evidently i had come upon a long-abandoned settlement, and presently, on some slightly higher ground to the left, i thought i could make out the half-submerged walls of a much more ambitious edifice. looking closer, i noted, with a thrill of surprise, the beginning of a very narrow path, not more than a foot wide, leading up through the scrub in its direction. narrow as it was, it had clearly been kept open by the not-infrequent passage of feet. with a certain eerie feeling, i edged my way into it, and, after following it for a hundred yards or so, found myself close to the roofless ruin of a spacious stone house with something of the appearance of an old english manor house. mullioned windows, finely masoned, opened in the shattered wall, and an elaborate stone staircase, in the interstices of which stout shrubs were growing, gave, or once had given, an entrance through an arched doorway--an entrance now stoutly disputed by the glistening trunk of a gum-elemi tree and endless matted rope-like roots of giant vines and creepers that writhed like serpents over the whole edifice. forcing my way up this staircase, i found myself in a stone hall some sixty feet long, at one end of which yawned a huge fireplace, its flue mounting up through a finely carved chimney, still standing firmly at the top of the southern gable. sockets in the walls, on either side, where massive beams had once lodged, showed that the building had been in three stories, though all the floors had fallen in and made a mound of rubble in the centre of the hall where i stood. at my entrance something moved furtively out of the fireplace, and shot with a rustle into the surrounding woods. it looked like a small alligator, and was indeed an iguana, one of the few reptiles of these islands. at the base of a tall fig tree--flourishing in one of the corners, its dense, wide branching top making a literal roof for the otherwise roofless hall--an enormous ant's nest was plastered, a black excrescence looking like burnt paper, and which crumbled like soft crisp cinder as i poked it with the barrel of my gun, to the dismay of its myriad little red inhabitants--the only denizens it would seem of this once-magnificent hall. how had this almost baronial magnificence come to be in this far-away corner of a desert island? at first i concluded that here was a relic of the brief colonial prosperity of the bahamas, when its cotton lords lived like princes, with a slave population for retainers--days when even the bootblacks in nassau played pitch-and-toss with gold pieces; but as i considered further, it seemed to me that the style of the architecture and the age of the building suggested an earlier date. could it be that this had been the home of one of those early eighteenth-century pirates who took pride in flaunting the luxury and pomp of princes, and who had perhaps made this his headquarters and stronghold for the storage of his loot on the return from his forays on the spanish main? this, as the more spirited conjecture, i naturally preferred, and, in default of exact information, decided to accept. who knows but that in this hall where the iguana lurked and the ants laboured at their commonwealth, the redoubtable "blackbeard"--known in private life as edward teach--had held his famous "satanic" revels, decked out in the absurd finery of crimson damask waistcoat and breeches, a red feather in his hat, and a diamond cross hanging from a gold chain at his neck? there, perhaps, glass in hand, and "doxy on his knee," he had roared out many a blood-curdling ditty in the choice society of ruffians only less ruffianly than himself. perhaps, too, this other spacious building adjacent to the great hall, and connected with it by a ruinous covered way, had been the sybarite's "harem"; for "blackbeard"--like that other famous gentleman whose beard was blue--collected from his unfortunate captive ships treasure other than doubloons and pieces of eight, and prided himself on his fine taste in ladies. the more i pondered upon this fancy, and remarked the extent of the ruins--including several subsidiary out-houses--and noted, too, one or two choked stone staircases that seemed to descend into the bowels of the earth, the more plausible it seemed. in one or two places where i suspected underground cellars--dungeons for unhappy captives belike, or strong vaults for the storage of the treasure--i tested the floors by dropping heavy stones, and they seemed unmistakably to reverberate with a hollow rumbling sound; but i could find no present way of getting down into them. as i said, the staircases that promised an entrance into them were choked with debris. but i promised myself to come some other day, with pick and shovel, and make an attempt at exploring them. meanwhile, after poking about in as much of the ruins as i could penetrate, i stepped out through a gap in one of the walls and found myself again on the path by which i had entered. i noticed that it still ran on farther north, as having a destination beyond. so leaving the haunted ruins behind, i pushed on, and had gone but a short distance when the path began to descend slightly from the ridge on which the ruins stood; and there, in a broad square hollow before me, was the welcome living green of a flourishing plantation of cocoanut palms! it was evidently of considerable extent--a quarter of a mile or so, i judged--and the palms were very thick and planted close together. to my surprise, too, i observed, as at length the path brought me to them after a sharp descent, that they were fenced in by a high bamboo stockade, for the most part in good condition, but here and there broken down with decay. through one of these gaps i presently made my way, and found myself among the soaring columns of the palms, hung aloft with clusters of the great green nuts. fallen palm fronds made a carpet for my feet--very pleasant after the rough and tangled way i had travelled, and now and again one of the cocoa nuts would fall down with a thud amid the green silence. one of these, which narrowly missed my head, suggested that here i had the opportunity of quenching very agreeably the thirst of which i had become suddenly aware. my claspknife soon made an opening through the tough shell, and, seated on the ground, i set my mouth to it, and, raising the nut above my head, allowed the "milk"--cool as spring water--to gurgle deliciously down my parched throat. when at length i had drained it, and my head once more returned to its natural angle, i was suddenly made aware that my poaching had not gone unobserved. "ha! ha!" called a pleasant voice, evidently belonging to a man of an unusually tall and lean figure who was approaching me through the palm trunks; "so you have discovered my hidden paradise--my alcinoüs garden, so to say"; and he quoted two well-known lines of homer in the original greek, adding: "or if you prefer it in pope's translation, which i think,--don't you?--remains the best: "close to the gates a spacious garden lies, from storms defended and inclement skies-- "and so on. alas! for an old man's memory! it grows shorter and shorter--like his life, eh? never mind, you are welcome, sir stranger, mysteriously tossed up here like ulysses, on our island coast." i gazed with natural wonderment at this strange individual, who thus in the heart of the wilderness had saluted me with a meticulously pure english accent, and welcomed me in a quotation from homer in the original greek. who, in the devil's name, was this odd character who, i saw, as i looked closer at him, was, as he had hinted, quite an old man, though his unusual erectness and sprightliness of manner, lent him an illusive air of youth? who on earth was he?--and how did he happen in the middle of this haunted wood? chapter v _calypso._ of course a glance, and the first sound of his voice, had told me that i had to do with a gentleman, one of those vagabond english gentlemen in exile who form a type peculiar, i think, to the english race; men that are a curious combination of aristocrat and gipsy, soldier, scholar, and philosopher; men of good family, who have drifted everywhere, seen and seen through everything, but in all their wanderings have never lost their sense and habit of "form," their boyish zest in living, their humorous stoicism, and, above all, their lordly accent. "now that you have found us, sir ulysses"--continued my eccentric host, motioning me, with an indescribably princely wave of the hand to accompany him--"you must certainly give us the pleasure of your company to luncheon. visitors are as rare as black swans on this _ultima thule_ of ours--though, by the way, the black swan, _cygnus atratus,_ is nothing like so rare as the ancients believed. i have shot them myself out in australia. still they are rare enough for the purpose of imagery, though really not so rare as a human being one can talk intelligently to on this island." talk! my friend, indeed, very evidently was a talker--one of those fantastic monologists to whom an audience is little more than a symbol. i saw that there was no need for me to do any of the talking. he was more than glad to do it all. plainly his encounter with me was to him like a spring in a thirsty land. "solitude," he continued, "is perhaps the final need of the human soul. after a while, when we have run the gamut of all our ardours and our dreams, solitude comes to seem the one excellent thing, the _summum bonum._" i murmured that he certainly seemed to have come to the right place for it. "very true, indeed," he assented, with a courtly inclination of his head, as though i had said something profound; "very true, indeed, and yet, wasn't it the great bacon who said: 'whoever is delighted with solitude is either a beast or a god'?--and this particular solitude, i confess, sometimes seems to me a little too much like that enforced solitude of the pontic marshes of which ovid wailed and whimpered in the deaf ears of augustus." i could not help noticing at last as he talked on with this fantastic magnificence, the odd contrast between his speech and the almost equally fantastic poverty of his clothing. the suit he wore, though still preserving a certain elegance of cut, was so worn and patched and stained that a negro would hardly have accepted it as a gift; and his almost painful emaciation gave him generally the appearance of an animated framework of rags and bones, startlingly embodying the voice and the manners of a prince. yet the shabby tie about his neck was bound by a ring, in which was set a turquoise of great size and beauty. evidently he was a being of droll contrasts, and i prepared myself to be surprised at nothing concerning him. presently, as we loitered on through the palms, we came upon two negroes chopping away with their machetes, trimming up the debris of broken and decaying palm fans. they were both sturdy, ferocious-looking fellows, but one of them was a veritable giant. "behold my bodyguard!" said my magnificent friend, with the usual possessive wave of his hand; "my switzers, my janissaries, so to say." the negroes stopped working, touched their great straw hats, and flashed their splendid teeth in a delighted smile. evidently they were used to their master's way of talking, and were devoted to him. "this chap here is erebus," said my host, and the appropriateness of the name was apparent, for he was certainly the blackest negro i had ever seen, as superbly black as some women are superbly white. "and this is samson. let's have a look at your muscles, samson--there's a good boy!" and, with grins of pleasure, samson proudly stripped off his thin calico jacket and exposed a torso of terrifying power, but beautiful in its play of muscles as that of a god. "but since my name is hercules, the man who owes me hatred hides it if he can, "eh, samson?" was his master's characteristic comment. "yaas, sar!" said samson, as pleased as a flattered bulldog, and understanding the compliment precisely in the same instinctive fashion. leaving samson and erebus to continue their savage play with their machetes, we walked on through the palms, which here gave a particularly jungle-like appearance to the scene, from the fact of their being bowed out from their roots, and sweeping upward in great curves. one involuntarily looked for a man-eating tiger at any moment, standing striped and splendid in one of the openings. then suddenly to the right, there came a flash of level green, suggesting lawns, and the outlines of a house, partly covered with brilliant purple flowers--a marvellous splash of colour. "_bougainvillea! bougainvillea spectabilis_--of course, you know it. was there ever such a purple? not solomon in all his glory, _et cetera._ and here we are at the house of king alcinoüs--a humble version of it indeed." it was evidently quite impossible for my friend to speak otherwise than in images, picturesque scraps from the coloured rag-bag of a mind stored with memories of the classics, all manner of romantic literature, and tags of greek and latin which he mouthed with the relish of an epicure. it was a large rambling stucco house, somewhat decayed looking, and evidently built on the ruins of an older building. we came upon it at a broad italian-looking loggia, supported by stone pillars bowered in with vines--very cool and pleasant--with mossy slabs for its floor, here and there tropical ferns set out in tubs, some wicker chairs standing about, and a table at one side on which two little barelegged negro girls were busy setting out yellow fruit, and other appurtenances of luncheon, on a dazzling white cloth. "has your mistress returned yet, my children?" asked the master. "no, sar," said the older girl, with a giggle, twisting and grimacing with embarrassment. "my daughter," explained my host, "has gone to the town on an errand. she will be back at any moment. meanwhile, i shall introduce you to a cooling drink of my own manufacture, with a basis of that cocoanut milk which i need not ask you whether you appreciate, recalling the pleasant circumstance of our first acquaintance." motioning me to a seat, and pushing toward me a box of cigarettes, he went indoors, leaving me to take in the stretch of beautiful garden in front of me, the trees of which seemed literally to be hung with gold--for they were mainly of orange and grapefruit ranged round a spacious beautifully-kept lawn with the regularity of sumptuous decoration. in the middle of the lawn, a little rock foundation threw up a jet of silver, falling with a tinkling murmur into a broad circular basin from which emerged the broad leaves and splendid pink blossoms of an egyptian lotus. certainly it was no far-fetched allusion of my classical friend to speak of the garden of alcinoüs; particularly connected as it was in my mind with the white beach of a desert isle, and that marble statue in the moonlight. as i sat dreaming, bathed in the golden-green light of the orange trees, and lulled by the tinkling of the fountain, my host returned with our drinks, his learned disquisition on which i will spare the reader, highly interesting and characteristic though it was. suffice it that it was a drink, whatever its ingredients--and there was certainly somewhere a powerful "stick" in it--that seemed to have been drawn from some cool grotto of the virgin earth, so thrillingly cold and invigorating it was. while we were slowly sipping it, and smoking our cigarettes, in an unwonted pause of my friend's fanciful verbosity, i almost jumped in my chair at the sound of a voice indoors. it was instantly followed by a light and rapid tread, and the sound of a woman's dress. then a tall beautiful young woman emerged on the loggia. "ah! there you are!" cried my host, as we both rose; and then turning to me, "this is my daughter--calypso. her real name i assure you--none of my nonsense--doesn't she look it? allow me, my dear, to introduce--mr. ulysses!"--for we had not yet exchanged each other's names.... i am a wretched actor, and i am bound to say that she proved herself no better. for she gave a decided start as she turned those glowing eyes on me, and the lovely olive of her cheeks glowed as with submerged rose-colour. our embarrassment did not escape the father. "why you know each other already!" he exclaimed, with natural surprise. "not exactly,"--i was grateful for the sudden nerve with which i was able to hasten to the relief of her lovely distress--"but possibly miss--calypso recalls as naturally as i do, our momentary meeting in sweeney's store, one evening. i had no expectation, of course, that we should meet again under such pleasant circumstances as this." she gave me a grateful look as she took my hand, and with it--or was it only my eager imagination?--a shy little pressure, again as of gratitude. i had tried to get into my voice my assurance that, of course, i remembered no other more recent meeting--though, naturally, as she had given that little start in the doorway, there had flashed on me again the picture of her standing, moonlit, in another resounding doorway, and of the wild start she had given then, as the golden pieces streamed from her lovely surprised mouth, and her lifted hands. and her eyes--i could have sworn--were the living eyes of jack harkaway! had she a brother, i wondered. yet my mind was too dazzled and confused with her nearness to pursue the speculation. as we sat down to luncheon, waited upon by the little barelegged black children--waited on, too, surprisingly well, despite the contortions of their primitive embarrassment--my host once more resumed his character of the classic king welcoming the storm-tossed stranger to his board. "far wanderer," he said, raising his glass to me, "eat of what our board affords, welcome without question of name and nation. but if, when the food and wine have done their genial office, and the weariness of your journeying has fallen from you, you should feel stirred to tell us somewhat of yourself and your wanderings, what manner of men call you kinsman, in what fair land is your home and the place of your loved ones, be sure that we shall count the tale good hearing, and, for our part, make exchange in like fashion of ourselves and the passage of our days in this lonely isle." we all laughed as he ended--himself with a whinny of laughter. for, odd as such discourse may sound in the reading, it was uttered so whimsically, and in so spirited and humorous a style that i assure you it was very captivating. "you should have been an actor, my lord alcinoüs," i said, laughing. i seemed already curiously at home, seated there at that table with this fantastic stranger and that being out of fairyland, toward whom i dared only turn my eyes now and again by stealth. the strange fellow had such a way with him, and his talk made you feel that he had known you all your life. "ah! i have had my dreams. i have had my dreams!" he answered, his eyes gazing with a momentary wistfulness across the orange trees. then we talked at random, as friendly strangers talk over luncheon, though we were glad enough that he should do all the talking--wonderful, iridescent, madcap talk, such as a man here and there in ten thousand, gifted with perhaps the most attractive of all human gifts, has at his command. and, every now and again, my eyes, falling on the paradoxical squalor of his clothing, would remind me of the enigma of this courtly vagabond; though--need i say it?--my eyes and my heart had other business than with him, throughout that wonderful meal, enfolded as i felt myself once more in that golden cloud of magnetic vitality, which had at first swept over me, as with a breath of perfumed fire, among the salt pork and the tinware of sweeney's store. chapter vi _doubloons._ luncheon over, the lady calypso, with a stately inclination of her lovely head, left us to our wine and our cigars. for, as i realised, we were very much in england, in spite of all the orange trees and the palms, the england of two or three generations ago, and but seldom nowadays to be found in england itself. the time had come, after the homeric formula which my host had whimsically applied to the situation, for the far-travelled guest to declare himself, and i saw in my host's eye a courteous invitation to begin. while his fantastic tongue had gone a-wagging from china to peru, i had been pondering what account to give of myself, and i had decided, for various reasons--of which the lady calypso was, of course, first, but the open-hearted charm of her father a close second--to tell him the whole of my story. whatever his and her particular secret was, it was evident to me that it was an innocent and honourable one; and, besides, i may have had a notion that before long i was to have a family interest in it. so i began--starting in with a little prelude in the manner of my host, just to enter into the spirit of the game: "my lord alcinoüs; your guest, the far wanderer, having partaken of your golden hospitality, is now fain to open his heart to you, and tell you of himself and his race, his home and his loved ones across the wine-dark sea, and such of his adventures as may give pleasure to your ears" ... though, having no talents in that direction, i was glad enough to abandon my lame attempt at his homeric style for a plain straightforward narrative of the events of the past three months. i had not, however, proceeded very far, when, with a courteous raising of his hand, king alcinoüs suggested a pause. "if you would not mind," he said, "i would like my daughter to hear this too, for it is of the very stuff of romantic adventure in which she delights. she is a brave girl, and, as i often tell her, would have made a very spirited dare-devil boy, if she hadn't happened to be born a girl." this phrase seemed to flash a light upon the questionings that had stirred at the back of my mind since i had first heard that voice in sweeney's store. "by the way, dear king," i said, assuming a casual manner, "do you happen to have a son?" "no!" he answered, "calypso is my only child." "very strange!" i said, "we met a whimsical lad in our travels whom i would have sworn was her brother." "that's odd!" said the "king" imperturbably, "but no! i have no son"; and he seemed to say it with a certain sadness. then calypso came in to join my audience, having, meanwhile, taken the opportunity of twining a scarlet hibiscus among her luxuriant dark curls. i should certainly have told the story better without her, yet i was glad--how glad!--to have her seated there, an attentive presence in a simple gown, white as the seafoam--from which, there was no further doubt in my mind, she had magically sprung. i gave them the whole story, much as i had told it in john saunders's snuggery--john p. tobias, jr.; dear old tom and his sucking fish, his ghosts, sharks, skeletons, and all; and when i had finished, i found that the interest of my story was once more chiefly centred in my pock-marked friend of "the wonderful works of god." "i should like to meet your pock-marked friend," said king alcinoüs, "and i have a notion that, with you as a bait, i shall not long be denied the pleasure." "i am inclined to think that i have seen him already," said calypso, using her honey-golden voice for the base purpose of mentioning him. "impossible!" i cried, "he is long since safe in nassau gaol." "o! not lately," she answered to our interrogative surprise, and giving a swift embarrassed look at her father, which i at once connected with the secret of the doubloons. "seriously, calypso?" asked her father, with a certain stern affection, as thinking of her safety. "on one of your errands to town?" and then, turning to me, he said: "sir ulysses, you have spoken well, and your speech has been that free, open-hearted speech that wins its way alike among the hyperboreans that dwell in frozen twilight near the northern star, and those dwarfed and swarthy intelligences that blacken in the fierce sunlight of that fearful axle we call the equator. therefore, i will make return to you of speech no less frank and true ..." he took a puff at his cigar, and then continued: "i should not risk this confession, but that it is easy to see that you belong to the race of eternal children, to which, you may have realised, my daughter and i also belong. this adventure of yours after buried treasure has not seriously been for the doubloons and pieces of eight, the million dollars, and the million and a half dollars themselves, but for the fun of going after them, sailing the unknown seas, coral islands, and all that sort of blessed moonshine. well, calypso and i are just like that, and i am going to tell you something exciting--we too have our buried treasure. it is nothing like so magnificent in amount as yours, or your henry p. tobias's--and where it is at this particular moment i know as little as yourself. in fact it is calypso's secret...." i looked across at calypso, but her eyes were far beyond capture, in un-plummeted seas. "i will show you presently where i found it, among the rocks near by--now a haunt of wild bees. "can you ever forget that passage in the georgics? it makes the honey taste sweeter to me every time i taste it. we must have some of it for dinner, by the way, calypso." i could not help laughing, and so, for a moment, breaking up the story. the dear fellow! was there any business of human importance from which he could not be diverted by a quotation from homer or virgil or shakespeare? but he was soon in the saddle again. "well," he resumed, "one day, some seven years ago, in a little cave below the orange trees, grubbing about as i am fond of doing, i came upon a beautiful old box of beaten copper, sunk deep among the roots of a fig tree. it was strong, but it seemed too dainty for a pirate--some great lady's jewel box more likely--calypso shall show it to us presently. on opening it--what do you think? it spilled over with golden doubloons--among which were submerged some fine jewels, such as this tie ring you see me wearing. actually, it was no great treasure, at a monetary calculation--certainly no fortune--but from our romantic point of view, as belonging to the race of eternal children, it was el dorado, aladdin's lamp, the mines of peru, the whole sunken spanish main, glimmering fifty fathoms deep in mother-of-pearl and the moon. it was the very secret rose of romance; and, also, mark you, it was some money--o! perhaps, all told, it might be some five thousand guineas, or--what would you say?--twenty-five odd thousand dollars; calypso knows better than i, and she, as i said, alone knows where it is now hid, and how much of it now remains." he paused to relight his cigar, while calypso and i--well, he began again: "now my daughter and i," and he paused to look at her fondly, "though of the race of eternal children, are not without some of the innocent wisdom which holy writ countenances as the self-protection of the innocent--calypso, i may say, is particularly endowed with this quality, needing it as she does especially for the guardianship for her foolish talkative old father, who, by the way, is almost at the end of his tale. so, when this old chest flashed its bewildering dazzle upon us, we, being poor folk, were not more dazzled than afraid. for--like the poor man in the fable--such good fortune was all too likely to be our undoing, should it come to the ears of the great, or the indigent criminal. the 'great' in our thought was, i am ashamed to say, the sacred british treasury, by an ancient law of which, forty per cent. of all 'treasure-trove' belongs to his majesty the king. the 'indigent criminal' was represented by--well, our coloured (and not so very much coloured) neighbours. of course, we ought to have sent the whole treasure to your friend, john saunders, of his britannic majesty's government at nassau, but--well, we didn't. some day, perhaps, you will put in a word for us with him, as you drink his old port, in the snuggery. meanwhile, we had an idea, calypso and i--" he paused--for calypso had involuntarily made a gesture, as though pleading to be spared the whole revelation--and then with a smile, continued: "we determined to hide away our little hoard where it would be safe from our neighbours, and dispose of it according to our needs with a certain tradesman in the town whom we thought we could trust--a tradesman, who, by the way, quite naturally levies a little tax upon us for his security. no blame to him! i have lived far too long to be hard on human nature." "john sweeney?" i asked, looking over at calypso, with eyes that dared at last to smile. "the very same, my lord ulysses," answered my friend. and so i came to understand that mr. sweeney's reluctance in selling me that doubloon was not so sinister as it had, at the moment, appeared; that it had in fact come of a loyalty which was already for me the most precious of all loyalties. "then," said i, "as a fitting conclusion to the confidence you have reposed in me, my lord alcinoüs; if miss calypso would have the kindness to let us have a sight of that chest of beaten copper of which you spoke, i would like to restore this, that was once a part of its contents, wherever the rest of them" (and i confess that i paused a moment) "may be in hiding." and i took from my pocket the sacred doubloon that i had bought from john sweeney--may heaven have mercy upon his soul!--for sixteen dollars and seventy-five cents, on that immortal evening. chapter vii _in which the "king" dreams a dream--and tells us about it._ the afternoon, under the spell of its various magic, had been passing all too swiftly, and at length i grew reluctantly aware that it was time for me to be returning once more to the solid, not to say squalid, earth; but, as i made a beginning of my farewell address, king alcinoüs raised his hand with a gesture that could not be denied. it was not to be heard of, he said. i must be their guest till to-morrow, sans argument. to begin with, for all the golden light still in the garden, with that silver wand of the fountain laid upon the stillness like a charm, it was already night among the palms, he said, and blacker than our friend erebus in the woods--and there was no moon. "no moon?" i said, and, though the remark was meaningless, one might have thought, from calypso's face--in which rose colour fought with a suggestion of submerged laughter--that it had a meaning. if i had found it difficult going at high noon, he continued, with an immense sunlight overhead, how was i going to find it with the sun gone head-long into the sea, as was about to happen in a few moments. when the light that is in thee has become darkness, how great is that darkness! _si ergo lumen quod in te est tenebræ sunt, ipsæ tenebræ quantæ erunt!_ and he settled it, as he settled everything, with a whimsical quotation. he had not yet, he said, shown me that haunt of the wild bees, where the golden honey now took the place of that treasure of golden money; and there were also other curiosities of the place he desired to show me. and that led me--his invitation being accepted without further parley--to mention the idea i had conceived as i came along, of exploring those curious old ruined buildings. need i say that the mere suggestion was enough to set him aflame? i might have known that here, of all men, was my man for such an enterprise. he had meant to do it himself for how many years--but age, with stealing step, _et cetera._ however, with youth--so he was pleased to flatter me--to lend him the sap of energy, why who knows? and in a moment he had us both akindle with his imaginations of what might--"might"! what a word to use!--no! what, without question, _must_ lie unsunned in those dark underground vaults, barricaded with all that deviltry of vegetation, and guarded by the coils of a three-headed dragon with carbuncles for eyes--eyes that never slept--for the advantage of three heads to treasure-guarding dragons, he explained, was that they divided the twenty-four hours into watches of eight hours each as the ugly beast kept ward over that heap of gold--bars of it, drifts of it, banks of it minted into gleaming coins--doubloons, doubloons, doubloons--so that the darkness was bright as day with the shine of it, or as the bottom of the sea, where a spanish galleon lies sunk among the corals and the gliding water snakes. "o king!" i laughed, "but indeed you have the heart of a child!" "to-morrow," he announced, "to-morrow we shall begin--there is not a moment to lose. we will send samson with a message to your captain--there is no need for you to go yourself; time is too precious--and in a week, who knows but that monte cristo shall seem like a pauper and a penny gaff in comparison with the fantasies of our fearful wealth. even calypso's secret hoard will pale before the romance of our subterranean millions--i mean billions--and poor henry tobias will need neither hangman's rope nor your friend webster's cartridges for his quietus. at the mere rumour of our fortune, he will suddenly turn a green so violent that death will be instantaneous." so, for that evening, all was laughingly decided. in a week's time, it was agreed, we should have difficulty in recognising each other. we should be so disguised in cloth of gold, and so blinding to look upon with rings and ropes of pearls. as our dear "king" got off something like this for our good-night, my eyes involuntarily fell upon his present garments--far from being cloth of gold. why? i wondered. there was no real financial reason, it was evident, for these penitential rags. but i remembered that i had known two other millionaires--millionaires not merely of the imagination--whom it had been impossible to separate from a certain beloved old coat that had been their familiar for more than twenty years. it was some odd kink somewhere in the make-up of the "king," one more trait of his engaging humanity. when we met at breakfast next morning, glad to see one another again as few people are at breakfast, it was evident that, so far as the "king" was concerned, our dream had lost nothing in the night watches. on the contrary, its wings had grown to an amazing span and iridescence. it was so impatient for flight, that its feet had to be chained to the ground--the wise calypso's doing--with a little plain prose, a detail or two of preliminary arrangement, and then.... calypso, it transpired, had certain household matters--of which the "king" of course, was ever divinely oblivious--that would take her on an errand into the town. those disposed of, we two eternal children were at liberty to be as foolish as we pleased. the "king" bowed his uncrowned head, as kings, from time immemorial have bowed their diadems before the quiet command of the domesticities; and it was arranged that i should be calypso's escort on her errand. so we set forth in the freshness of the morning, and the woods that had been so black and bewildering at my coming opened before us in easy paths, and all that tropical squalor that had been foul with sweat and insects seemed strangely vernal to me, so that i could hardly believe that i had trodden that way before. and for our companion all the way along--or, at least, for my other companion--was the wonder of the world, the beautiful strangeness of living, and that marvel of a man's days upon the earth which lies in not knowing what a day shall bring forth, if only we have a little patience with time--time, with those gold keys at his girdle, ready, at any turn of the way, to unlock the hidden treasure that is to be the meaning of our lives. how should i try to express what it was to walk by her side, knowing all that we both knew?--knowing, or giddily believing that i knew, how her heart, with every breath she took, vibrated like a living flower, with waves of colour, changing from moment to moment like a happy trembling dawn. to know--yet not to say! yes! we were both at that divine moment which hangs like a dew-drop in the morning sun--ah! all too ready to fall. o! keep it poised, in that miraculous balance, 'twixt time and eternity--for this crystal made of light and dew is the meaning of the life of man and woman upon the earth. as we came to the borders of the wood, near the edge of the little town, we called a counsel of two. as the outcome of it, we concluded that, having in mind the "king's" ambitious plans for our cloth-of-gold future, and for other obvious reasons, it was better that she went into the town alone--i to await her in the shadow of the mahogany tree. as she turned to leave me, she drew up from her bosom a little bag that hung by a silver chain, and, opening it, drew out, with a laugh--a golden doubloon! i sprang toward her; but she was too quick for me, and laughingly vanished through an opening in the trees. i was not to kiss her that day. chapter viii _news!_ calypso was so long coming back that i began to grow anxious--was, indeed, on the point of going into the town in search of her; when she suddenly appeared, rather out of breath, and evidently a little excited--as though, in fact, she had been running away from something. she caught me by the arm, with a laugh: "do you want to see your friend tobias?" she said. "tobias! impossible!" "come here," and she led me a yard or two back the way she had come, and then cautiously looked through the trees. "gone!" she said, "but he was there a minute or two ago--or at least some one that is his photograph--and, of course, he's there yet, hidden in the brush, and probably got his eyes on us all the time. did you see that seven-year apple tree move?" "his favourite tree," i laughed. "hardly strong enough to hang him on though." and i realised that she was king alcinoüs's daughter. we crouched lower for a moment or two, but the seven-year apple tree didn't move again, and we agreed that there was no use in waiting for tobias to show his hand. "he is too good a poker-player," i said. "like his skeletons, eh?" she said. "but what made you think it was tobias?" i asked, "and how did it all happen?" "i could hardly fail to recognise him from your flattering description," she answered, "and indeed it all happened rather like another experience of mine. i had gone into sweeney's store--you remember?--and was just paying my bill." "in the usual coinage?" i ventured. she gave me a long, whimsical smile--once more her father's daughter. "that, i'm afraid, was the trouble," she answered; "for, as i laid my money down on the counter, i suddenly noticed that there was a person at the back of the store ..." "a person?" i interrupted. "yes! suppose we say 'a pock-marked person'; was it you?" "what a memory you have for details," i parried, "and then?" "well! i took my change and managed to whisper a word to sweeney--a good friend, remember--and came out. i took a short cut back, but the 'person' that had stood in the back of the store seemed to know the way almost better than i--so well that he had got ahead of me. he was walking quietly this way, and so slowly that i had at last to overtake him. he said nothing, just watched me, as if interested in the way i was going--but, i'm ashamed to say, he rather frightened me! and here i am." "do you really think he saw the--doubloon--like that other 'person'?" i asked. "there's no doubt of it." "well, then," i said, "let's hurry home, and talk it over with the 'king.'" the "king," as i had realised, was a practical "romantic" and at once took the matter seriously, leaving--as might have surprised some of those who had only heard him talk--his conversational fantasies on the theme to come later. calypso, however, had the first word. "i always told you, dad," she said;--and the word "dad" on the lips of that big statuesque girl--who always seemed ready to take that inspired framework of rags and bones and talking music into her protecting arms--seemed the quaintest of paradoxes--, "i always told you, dad, what would happen, with your fairy-tales of the doubloons." "quite true, my dear," he answered, "but isn't a fairy-tale worth paying for?--worth a little trouble? and remember, if you will allow me, two things about fairy-tales: there must always be some evil fairy in them, some dragon or such like; and there is always--a happy ending. now the dragon enters at last--in the form of tobias; and we should be happy on that very account. it shows that the race of dragons is not, as i feared, extinct. and as for the happy ending, we will arrange it, after lunch--for which, by the way, you are somewhat late." after lunch, the "king" resumed, but in a brief and entirely practical vein: "we are about to be besieged," he said. "the woods, probably, are already thick with spies. for the moment, we must suspend operations on our golconda"--his name for the ruins that we were to excavate--"and, as our present purpose--yours no less than ours, friend ulysses--is to confuse tobias, my suggestion is this: that you walk with me a mile or two to the nor'ard. there is an entertaining mangrove swamp i should like to show you, and also, you can give me your opinion of an idea of mine that you will understand all the better when i have taken you over the ground." so we walked beyond the pines, down onto a long interminable flat land of marl marshes and mangrove trees--so like that in which charlie webster had shot the snake and the wild duck--that only charlie could have seen any difference. "now," said the "king," "do you see a sort of river there, overgrown with mangroves and palmettos?" "yes," i answered, "almost--though it's so choked up it's almost impossible to say." "well," said the "king," "that's the idea; you haven't forgotten those old ruins we are going to explore. you remember how choked up they are. well, this was the covered water-way, the secret creek, by which the pirates--john teach, or whoever it was, perhaps john p. tobias himself--used to land their loot. it's so overgrown nowadays that no one can find the entrance but myself and a friend or two; do you understand?" we walked a little farther, and then at length came to the bank of the creek the "king" had indicated. this we followed for half a mile or so, till we met the fresh murmur of the sea. "we needn't go any farther," said the "king." "it's the same all the way along to the mouth--all over-grown as you see, all the way, right out to the 'white water' as they call it--which is four miles of shoal sand that is seldom deeper than two fathoms, and which a nor'easter is liable to blow dry for a week on end. naturally it's a hard place to find, and a hard place to get off!--and only two or three persons besides sweeney--all of them our friends--know the way in. tobias may know of it; but to know it is one thing, to find it is another matter. i could hardly be sure of it myself--if i were standing in from the sea, with nothing but the long palmetto-fringed coast-line to go by. "now, you see it? i brought you here, because words--" "even yours, dear 'king,'" i laughed. "--could not explain what i suggest for us to do. you are interested in tobias. tobias is interested in you. i am interested in you both. and calypso and i have a treasure to guard." "i have still a treasure to seek," i said, half to myself. "good enough," said the "king." "now, to be practical. we can assume that tobias is on the watch. i don't mean that he's around here just now, for, before we left, i spoke to samson and erebus and they will pass the word to four men blacker than themselves; therefore we can assume that this square mile or so is for the moment 'to ourselves.' but beyond our fence you may rely that tobias and his myrmidons--is that the word?" he asked with a concession to his natural foolishness--"are there." "so," he went on, "i want you to go down to your boat to-morrow morning to say good-bye to the commandant, the parson, and the postmaster; to haul up your sail and head for nassau. call in on sweeney on the way, buy an extra box of cartridges, and say '_dieu et mon droit_'--it is our password; he will understand, but, if he shouldn't, explain, in your own way, that you come from me, and that we rely upon him to look out for our interest. then head straight for nassau; but, about eight o'clock, or anywhere around twilight, turn about and head--well, we'll map it out on the chart at home--anywhere up to eight miles along the coast, till you come to a light, low down right on the edge of the water. as soon as you see it, drop anchor; then wait till morning--the very beginning of dawn. as soon as you can see land, look out for samson--within a hundred yards of you--all the land will look alike to you. only make the captain head straight for samson, and just as you think you are going to run ashore--well, you will see!" chapter ix _old friends._ next morning i did as the "king" had told me to do. the whole programme was carried out just as he had planned it. i made my good-byes in the settlement, as we had arranged, not forgetting to say "_dieu et mon droit_" to sweeney, and watching with some humorous intent how he would take it. he took it quietly, as a man in a signal box takes a signal, with about as much emotion, and with just the same necessary seriousness. but i suppose he felt that the circumstances justified a slight heightening of his usual indifference to all mortal things. "tell the boss," he said--of course he meant the "king"--"that we are looking after him. nothing'll slip through here, if we can help it. good luck!" so i went down to the boat--to old tom once more, and the rest of our little crew, who had long since exhausted the attractions of their life ashore, and were glad, as i was, to "h'ist up the _john b._ sail." we sang that classic chanty, as we went out with all our canvas spread to a lively northeast breeze--and i realised once more how good the sea was for all manner of men, whatever their colour, for we all livened up and shook off our land-laziness again, spry and laughing, and as keen as the jib stretching out like a gull's wing into the rush and spray of the sea. down in my cabin, i looked over some mail that had been waiting for me at the post-office. amongst it was a crisp, characteristic word from charlie webster--for whom the gun will ever be mightier than the pen: "_tobias escaped--just heard he is on your island--watch out. will follow in a day or two._" i came out on deck about sunset. we were running along with all our sails drawing like a dream. i looked back at the captain, proud and quiet and happy there at the helm, and nodded a smile to him, which he returned with a flash of his teeth. he loved his boat; he asked nothing better than to watch her behaving just as she was doing. and the other boys seemed quiet and happy too, lying along the sides of the house, ready for the captain's order, but meanwhile content to look up at the great sails, and down again at the sea. we were a ship and a ship's crew all at peace with one another, and contented with ourselves--rushing and singing and spraying through the water. we were all friends--sea, and sails, and crew together. i couldn't help thinking that a mutiny would be hard to arrange under such a combination of influences. tom was sitting forward, plaiting a rope. for all our experiences together, he never implied that he was anything more than the ship's cook, with the privilege of waiting upon me in the cabin at my meals. but, of course, he knew that i had quite another valuation of him, and, as our eyes met, i beckoned to him to draw closer to me. "tom," i said, "i have found my treasure." "you don't say so, sar." "yes! tom, and i rely upon you to help me to guard it. there are no ghosts, this time, tom," i added--as he said nothing, but waited for me to go on--"and no need of our sucking fish...." "are you sure, sar?" he asked, adding: "you can never be sure about ghosts--they are always around somewhere. and a sucking fish is liable at any moment to be useful." i opened my shirt in answer. "there it is still, tom; i agree with you. we won't take any unnecessary chances." this comforted the old man more than any one could have imagined. "it's all right then, sar?" he said. "it will come out all right now, i'm sure--though, as i wanted to say"--and he hesitated--"i had hoped that you had forgotten those treasures that--" "go on, tom." "that moth and rust do corrupt." "i know, dear old tom, but neither moth nor rust can ever corrupt the treasure i meant--the treasure i have already found." "you have found the treasure, sar?" asked tom, in natural bewilderment. "yes, tom, and i am going to show it to you--to-morrow." the old man waited, as a mortal might wait till it pleased his god to speak a little more clearly. "quite true, tom," i continued; "you shall see my treasure to-morrow; meanwhile, read this note." tom was so much to me that i wanted him to know all about the details of the enterprise we shared together, and in which he risked his life no less than i risked mine. tom took out his spectacles from some recess of his trousers, and applied himself to charlie webster's note, as though it had been the bible. he read it as slowly indeed as if it had been sanscrit, and then folded it and handed it back to me without a word. but there was quite a young smile in his old eyes. "'the wonderful works of god,'" he said presently. "i guess, sar, we shall soon be able to ask him what he meant by that expression." then, as sunlight had almost gone, and the stars were trying to come out overhead, and the boys were stringing out our lanterns, i surprised our captain by telling him that i had changed my mind, and that i didn't want to make nassau that night, but wanted to head back again, but a point or so to the south'ard. he demurred a little, because, as he said, he was not quite sure of his course. we ought to have had a pilot, and the shoals--so much he knew--were bad that way, all "white water," particularly in a northeast wind. this only confirmed what the "king" had said. so, admitting that i knew all the captain said, i ordered him to do as i told him. so we ruffled it along, making two or three "legs"--i sitting abaft the jib boom, with my back against the mainmast, watching out for samson and his light. soon the long dark shore loomed ahead of us. i had reckoned it out about right. but the captain announced that we were in shoal water. "how many feet?" i asked, and a boy threw out the lead. "sixteen and a half," he said. "go ahead," i called out. "do you want to go aground?" asked the captain. for answer, i pushed him aside and took the wheel. i had caught the smallest glimmer, like a night-light, floating on the water. "drop the anchor," i called. the light in shore was clear and near at hand, about one hundred yards away, and there was the big murmur and commotion of the long breakers over the dancing shoals. we rolled a good deal, and the captain moodily took my suggestion of throwing out three anchors and cradling them; though, as he said, with the way the northeast was blowing, we should soon be on dry land. it was true enough. the tide was running out very fast, and the white sand coming ever nearer to our eyes in the moonlight; and samson's light, there, was keeping white and steady. with the thought of my treasure and the "king" so near by, it was hard to resist the temptation to plunge in and follow my heart ashore. but i managed to control the boyish impulse, and presently we were all snug, and some of us snoring, below decks, rocked in the long swells of the shoal water that gleamed milkily like an animated moonstone under the stars--old sailor curled up at my feet, just like old times. chapter x _the hidden creek._ i woke just as dawn was waking too, very still and windless; for the threatening nor'easter had changed its mind, and the world was as quiet as though there weren't a human being in it. near by, stretched the long low coast-line, nothing but level brush, with an occasional thatch-palm lifting up a shock-head against the quickening sky. out to sea, the level plains of lucent water spread like a vast floor, immensely vacant--not a sail or even a wing to mar the perfect void. as the light grew, i scanned the shore to see whether i could detect the entrance of the hidden creek; but, though i swept it up and down again and again, it continued to justify the "king's" boast. there was no sign of an opening anywhere. nothing but a straight line of brush, with mangroves here and there stepping down in their fantastic way into the water. and yet we were but a hundred yards from the shore. certainly "blackbeard"--if the haunt had really been his--had known his business; for an enemy could have sought him all day along this coast and found no clue to his hiding-place. but, presently, as my eyes kept on seeking, a figure rose, tall and black near the water's edge, a little to our left, and shot up a long arm by way of signal. it was samson; and evidently the mouth of the creek was right there in front of us--under our very noses, so to say--and yet it was impossible to make it out. however, at this signal, i stirred up the still-sleeping crew, and presently we had the anchors up, and the engine started at the slowest possible speed. the tide was beginning to run in, so we needed very little way on us. i pointed out samson to the captain, and, following the "king's" instructions, told him to steer straight for the negro. he grumbled not a little. of course, if i wanted to run aground, it was none of his affair--etc., etc. then i stationed the sturdiest of the two deck-hands on the port bow with a long oar, while i took the starboard with another. very slowly and cautiously we made in, pointing straight for a thick growth of mangrove bushes. samson stood there and called: "all right, sar. keep straight on. you'll see your way in a minute." and, sure enough, when we were barely fifty feet away from the shore, and there seemed nothing for it but to run dead aground, low down through the floating mangrove branches we caught sight of a narrow gleam starting inland, and in another moment or two our decks were swept with foliage as the _flamingo_ rustled in, like a bird to cover, through an opening in the bushes barely twice her beam; and there before us, snaking through the brush, was a lane of water which immediately began to broaden between palmetto-fringed banks, and was evidently deep enough for a much larger vessel. "plenty of water, sar," hallooed samson from the bank, grinning a huge welcome. "keep a-going after me," and he started trotting along the creek-side. as we pushed into the glassy channel, i standing at the bow, my eyes were arrested by a tremendous flashing commotion in the water to the right and left of us--like the fierce zigzagging of steel blades, or the ferocious play of submerged lightning. it was a select company of houndfish and sharks that we had disturbed, lying hellishly in wait there for the prey of the incoming tide. it was a curiously sinister sight, as though one had come upon a nest of water-devils in council, and the fancy jumped into my mind that here were the spirits of teach and his crew once more evilly embodied and condemned to haunt for ever this gloomy scene of their crimes. samson went trotting along the twisting banks, we cautiously feeling our way after him, for something like a quarter of a mile; and then, coming round a sudden bend, the creek opened out into a sort of basin. on the left bank stood two large palmetto shanties. samson indicated that there was our anchorage; and then, as we were almost alongside of them, the cheery halloos of a well-known voice hailed us. it was the "king"; and, as i answered his welcome, the morning suddenly sang for me--for there too was calypso, at his side. the water ran so deep at the creek's side that we were able to moor the _flamingo_ right up against the bank, and, when i had jumped ashore and greeted my friends, and the "king" had executed a brief characteristic fantasia on the manifest advantages of having a hidden pirate's creek in the family, he unfolded his plans, or rather that portion of them that was necessary at the moment. the crew of the _flamingo,_ he said, had better stay where they were for the present. if they were tired of sleeping aboard, there were his two palmetto palaces, with couches of down on which to stretch their limbs--and, for amusement--poor devils!--he swept his eyes whimsically around that dreariest of landscapes--they might exercise their imaginations by pretending, after the manner of john teach, that they were on an excursion to hades--this was the famous river acheron--and so on. but, seriously, he ended, we would find some way of keeping them from committing hari-kari and, meanwhile, we would leave them in peace, and stroll along toward breakfast. at that moment, sailor rubbed his head against my knee. "ah!" said the "king," "the heroic canine! he, of course, must not be left behind. we may very well need you in our counsels, eh, old fellow?" and he made friends with sailor in a moment, as only a man who loves dogs can. i believe i was second in sailor's affection from that moment of his meeting the "king." but then, who wouldn't have been? so then, after a reassuring word or two with tom and the captain, we went our ways toward breakfast--the "king's" tongue and sailor's wagging happily in concert every inch of the way. chapter xi _an old enemy._ charlie webster's laconic note was naturally our chief topic over breakfast. "_tobias escaped--just heard he is on your island. watch out. will follow in a day or two._" the "king" read it out, when i handed him the note across the table. "your friend writes like a true man of action," he added, "like cæsar--and also the electric telegraph. we must send word to sweeney to be on the look-out for him. i will send samson the redoubtable with a message to him this morning. meanwhile, we will smoke and think." then for the next hour the "king" thought--aloud; while calypso and i sat and listened, occasionally throwing in a parenthesis of comment or suggestion. it was evident, we all agreed, that calypso had been right. it had been tobias and none other whose evil eye had sent her so breathless back to me, waiting in the shadow of the woods; and it was the same evil eye that had fallen vulture-like on her golden doubloon exposed on sweeney's counter. now what were we to think of tobias?--what really were his notions about this supposititious treasure?--and what was likely to be his plan of action? had he really any private knowledge of the whereabouts of his alleged ancestral treasure?--or was his first authentic hint of its whereabouts derived from the manuscript--first overheard while eavesdropping at john saunders's office, and afterward purloined from john saunders's verandah? there seemed little doubt that this second surmise was correct; for, if he had had any previous knowledge, he would have had no need of the manuscript and long ago he would have gone after the treasure for himself, and found it or not, as the case might be. probably there was a tradition in his family of the existence somewhere of his grandfather's treasure; but that tradition was very likely the sum of his inheritance; and doubtless it was the mere accident of his dropping into saunders's office that morning which had set him on the track. it was also likely, indeed practically certain, that he had been able to make no more out of the manuscript than i had; that he had concluded that i had somehow or other unearthed more about it than he; and that, therefore, his most promising clue to its discovery would be my actions. to keep me in sight was the first step. so far so good. but thus far, it would appear to him, i had had no very positive success. otherwise, i would not still be on the quest. he had probably been aware of my movements, and may have been lying hidden on the island longer than we suspected. from some of his spies he had heard of my presence in the settlement, and, chance having directed him to sweeney's store at the moment of calypso's ringing down that spanish gold on the counter, he had somehow connected calypso's doubloon with me. at all events, it was clear that there were such coins on the island in somebody's possession. then, when he had watched calypso on her way home--and, without any doubt, been the spectator of our meeting at the edge of the wood though we had been unable to catch sight of him--there would, of course, be a suspicion in his mind that my quest might at last be approaching success, and that his ancestral millions might be almost in my hands. that there might be some other treasure on the island with which neither he nor his grandfather had any concern would not occur to him, nor would it be likely to trouble him if it did. my presence was enough to prove that the treasure was his--for was it not his treasure that i was after? logic irrefutable! how was he to know that all the treasure so far discovered was that modest hoard--unearthed, as i had heard, in the garden--the present whereabouts of which was known only to calypso. the "king" had interrupted himself at this point of argument. "by the way, calypso, where is it?" he asked unexpectedly, to the sudden confusion of both of us. "isn't it time you revealed your mysterious aladdin's cave?" at the word "cave" the submerged rose in calypso's cheeks almost came to the surface of their beautiful olive. "cave!" she countered manfully, "who said it was a cave?" "it was merely a figure of speech, which--if i may say so, my dear--might apply with equal fitness, say--to a silk stocking." and calypso laughed through another tide of rose-colour. "no, dad, not that either. never mind where it is. it is perfectly safe, i assure you." "but _are_ you sure, my dear? wouldn't it be safer, after all, here in the house? how can you be certain that no one but yourself will accidentally discover it?" "i am absolutely certain that _no one will,_" she answered, with an emphasis on the last three words which sent a thrill through me, for i knew that it was meant for me. indeed, as she spoke, she furtively gave me one of those glances of soft fire which had burnt straight through to my heart in sweeney's store--a sort of blended challenge and appeal. "of course, dad," she added, "if you insist--you shall have it. but seriously i think it is safer where it is, and if i were to fetch it, how can i be sure that no one"--she paused, with a meaning which i, of course, understood--"tobias, for instance, would see me going--and follow me." "to be sure--to be sure," said the "king." "what do you think, friend ulysses?" "i think it more than likely that she might be followed," i answered, "and i quite agree with miss calypso. i certainly wouldn't advise her to visit her treasure just now--with the woods probably full of eyes. in fact," i added, smiling frankly at her, "i could scarcely answer for myself even--for i confess that she has filled me with an overpowering curiosity." and in my heart i stood once more amid the watery gleams and echoes of that moonlit cavern, struck dumb before that shining princess from whose mouth and hands had fallen those strange streams of gold. "so be it then," said the "king"; "and now to consider what our friend here graphically speaks of as those eyes in the woods. 'the woods were full of eyes.' ah! friend ulysses, you evidently share my taste for the romantic phrase. who cares how often it has been used? it is all the better for that. like old wine, it has gained with age. one's whole boyhood seems to be in a phrase like that--dumas, scott, fenimore cooper. how often, i wonder, has that divine phrase been written--'the woods were full of eyes.' and now to think that we are actually living it--an old boy like myself even. 'the woods were full of eyes.' bravo! ulysses, for it is still a brave and gallant world!" the "king" then made a determined descent into the practical. the woods, most probably, _were_ full of eyes. in plain prose, we were almost certainly being watched. unless--unless, indeed, my bogus departure for nassau had fooled tobias as we had hoped. but, even so, with that lure of calypso's doubloon ever before him, it was too probable that he would not leave the neighbourhood without some further investigation--"an investigation," the "king" explained, "which might well take the form of a midnight raid; murdered in our beds, and so forth." that being so, being in fact almost a certainty--the "king" spoke as though he would be a much disappointed man otherwise--we must look to our garrison. after all, besides ourselves, we had but samson and erebus, and their dark brethren of doubtful courage, while tobias probably had command of a round dozen of doughty desperadoes. on the whole, perhaps, he said, it might be best to avail ourselves of the crew of the _flamingo_--"under cover of the dark," he repeated with a smile. yes! that must be the first step. we must get them up there that night, under cover of the dark; keep them well hidden, and--well! await developments. charlie webster might be expected any moment with his reinforcements, and then!--"lay on, macduff!" while we had been talking, samson had long since been on his way with the word to sweeney to look out for webster, and, as he had been admonished to hurry back, it was scarcely noon when he returned, bringing in exchange a verbal message from sweeney. "the pock-marked party," ran the message as delivered by samson, "had left the harbour in his sloop that morning. yes, sar!" "ha! ha!" laughed the "king," turning to me. "so two can play at that game, says henry p. tobias, jr. but if we haven't fooled him, let's make sure that he hasn't fooled us. we'll bring up your crew all the same--what do you think?" "under cover of the dark," i assented. chapter xii _in which the "king" imprisons me with some old books and pictures._ nothing further transpired that day, and, at nightfall, we brought the crew of the _flamingo_ up to the house--all but two of them, whom we left on guard. two out of six was rather more than we had bargained for, but we found that none of them had the courage to face the night there in that dismal swamp alone--and we couldn't blame them, for a more devil-haunted desolation could not be imagined even in the daylight, and the mere thought of what might go on there after dark was enough to uncurl the wool on the head of the bravest negro. and we agreed, too, that the watch should be changed nightly, a fresh pair going on duty each evening. then there was nothing to do but sit down and await events--amongst them, the coming of charlie webster. in regard to this, we had decided that it would be as well that, instead of disembarking at the settlement, he should come and join the _flamingo_ in the hidden creek; so samson was once more despatched down to sweeney with a letter for him to hand to charlie on his arrival, giving him direction how to find us. meanwhile, our two men on the _flamingo_ could keep watch for him by day, and have a light burning for him at the entrance of the creek by night. the "king's" instructions to me were that i was not to show my nose outside the house. possibly i might expose the tip of it once in a while, for a little exercise in the garden--where all this time the little silver fountain went on playing amid the golden hush of the orange trees, filling the lotus flowers with big pearls of spray. but, most of the day, i must regard myself as a prisoner, with the entire freedom of his study--a large airy room on the second floor, well furnished with all manner of books, old prints, strange fishes in glass cases, rods, guns, pipe-racks, curiosities of every kind from various parts of the world--india, the south seas, australia, not forgetting london and paris--and all the flotsam and jetsam of a far-wandered man, who--as the "king" remarked, introducing their autobiographic display with a comprehensive wave of his hand--had, like that other wanderer unbeloved of all schoolboys, the pious Ã�neas, been so much tossed about on land and sea--_vi superum, sævæ memorem junonis ob iram_--that he might found his city and bring safe his household gods from latium. touching his hand lightly on a row of old quartos, in the stout calfskin and tarnished gold dear to bookmen, he said: "these i recommend to you in your enforced leisure." they were a collection of old french voyages--dampier and others--embellished with copper-plate maps and quaint engravings of the fauna and flora of the world, still in all the romantic virginity of its first discovery. "this," he said, pointing to a stout old jar of devonshire ware, "is some excellent english tobacco--my one extravagance; and here," pointing to a pipe-rack, "are some well-tried friends from that same 'dear, dear land,' 'sceptred isle of kings,' and so forth. and now i am going to leave you, while i go with samson and erebus on a little reconnoitring tour around our domains." so he left me, and i settled down to a pipe and a volume of dampier; but, interesting as i found the sturdy old pages, my thoughts, and perhaps particularly my heart, were too much in the present for my attention long to be held by even so adventurous a past; so, laying the book down, i rose from my chair, and made a tour of inspection of the various eloquent objects about the room--objects which made a sort of chronicle in bric-à-brac of my fantastic friend's earthly pilgrimage, and here and there seemed to hint at the story of his strange soul. among the books, for example, was a fine copy of homer, with the arms of a well-known english college stamped on the binding, and near by was the faded photograph of a beautiful old elizabethan house, with mouldering garden walls, and a moat brimming with water-lilies surrounding it. hanging close by it, was another faded photograph, of a tall stately old lady, who, at a glance, i surmised must be the "king's" mother. as i looked at it, my eyes involuntarily sought the garden with its palms and its orange trees. far indeed had the son of her heart wandered, like so many sons of stately english mothers, from that lilied moat and those old gables, and the proud old eyes that would look on her son no more forever. and then in my privileged inspection of these sacred symbols, carried across so many storm-tossed seas from that far-away latium, i came upon another photograph, hanging over the writing-desk--a tall, spanish-looking young woman of remarkable beauty. it needed but one glance to realise that here was calypso's mother; and, as was natural, i stood a long time scanning the countenance that was so like the face which, from my first sight of it, had seemed the loveliest in the world. this was a flower that had been the mother of a flower. it was a face more primitive in its beauty, a little less touched with race, than the one i loved, but the same fearless natural nobility was in it, and the figure had the same wild grace of pose, the same lithe strength of carriage. as i stood looking at it, lost in thought, i heard the "king's" voice behind me. his step was so light that i had not heard him enter the room. "you are looking at calypso's mother!" he said. "she was a beautiful creature. i will tell you of her some day, ulysses." and indeed, that very night, as we sat over our pipes, he told me; and without a word of his, i knew that the loneliness of his heart had singled me out for his friend, since, for all his love of speech, he was not the man to speak easily of the deep things of his heart. "beauty is a very mysterious thing, friend ulysses," he began, his eyes musing on the face above his desk, "as our old friends of the siege of troy knew all too well. the eternal helen! and in nothing is the divinity of youth so clearly shown as in its worship of beauty, its faith that there is nothing the world holds--the power and the glory, the riches and the honours--nothing so well worth fighting for as a beautiful face. when the world was young, the whole world thought that too. now we make ignoble war for markets, but the greeks made nobler warfare--for a beautiful face-- "the face that launched a thousand ships, and burnt the topless towers of ilium. "so is it still with every young man. 'fair helen! make me immortal with a kiss' is still his cry. titles and broad lands, and all such earthly gear--what are these to a youth, with his eyes on the face of the eternal helen?--that face we meet once and once only, and either win--to lose all the rest, or lose--and win what? what is there to win if that be lost? so, at all events, it was with me, who, after winging away from those old gables yonder on all the adventurous winds of the seven seas, and having in truth looked into many a fair face in every corner of the globe, suddenly, in a certain little island of the french west indies, came upon the face i had been unconsciously seeking. "so, long years before my coming, had it befallen also with a certain young french nobleman, out there on military service, who had set eyes on calypso's grandmother in the streets of that quaint little town, where the french soul seems almost more at home than in france itself. all had seemed nothing to him--his ancestral ties, his brilliant future--compared with that glory of a woman. he married her and settled down for good, the world well lost, in that dream island. and the dream he had been faithful to remained faithful to him. he seems to have been a singularly happy man. i never saw him, for he was dead when i set foot on his island--destined, though i knew it not, to live his life again in the love of his daughter. "she and her mother were living quietly on the small fortune he had left them, in an old palm-shaded house backed by purple mountains, and sung to by the sea. the soul of old france seemed to haunt that old house like a perfume, taking on a richer colour and drawing a more ardent life from the passionate tropic soul that enfolded it. both had mysteriously met and become visibly embodied in the lovely girl, in whose veins the best blood of france blended with the molten gold of tropic suns. so, as had happened with her mother, again it happened with her--she took the wandering man to her heart"--he paused--"held him there for some happy years"--he paused again--"and the rest is--calypso." we did not speak for a long time after he had ended, but his confidence had touched me so nearly that i felt i owed him my heart in exchange, and it was hard not to cry out: "and now i love calypso. once more the far-wandered man has found the great light on a lonely shore." but i felt that to speak yet--believer in the miracle of love though he had declared himself to be--would seem as though i set too slight a value on the miracle itself. there should be a long hush before we speak, when a star has fallen out of heaven into our hearts. chapter xiii _we begin to dig._ two or three days went by, but as yet there was no news of either charlie webster or tobias. nothing further had been heard of the latter in the settlement, and a careful patrolling of the neighbourhood revealed no signs of him. either his sailing away was a bona-fide performance, or he was lying low in some other part of the island--which, of course, would not be a difficult thing for him to do, as most of it was wilderness--and as, also, there were one or two coves on the deserted northern side where he could easily bide his time. between that coast and us, however, lay some ten miles of scrub and mangrove swamps, and it was manifestly out of the question to patrol them too. there was nothing to do but watch and wait. "_vigile et ora,_" said the "king." but in spite of that counsel, watching and praying was not much in the "king's" temperament. besides, as i could see, he was anxious to begin operations on john teach's ruined mansion, and was impatient of the delay. "with golconda and potosi beneath our very feet," he exclaimed at last, "to be held up by this scurvy pock-marked ruffian, i swear 'i like it not.' no news from your duck-shooting friend either. it is a slow-moving world, and the bird of time has either lost his wings, or been captured as a specimen on behalf of the smithsonian institute." at last there came a message from charlie webster, another of his cæsarian notes: "sorry delayed a few days longer. any news?" that seemed to decide the "king." "what do you say, ulysses," he said, "if we begin digging to-morrow? there are ten of us--with as many guns, four revolvers and plenty of machetes--not counting calypso, who is an excellent shot herself." i agreed that nothing would please me better--so, an early hour of the following morning found us with the whole garrison--excepting samson, whom it had been thought wise to leave at home as a bodyguard for calypso--lined up at the old ruined mansion, with picks and shovels and machetes, ready to commence operations. the first thing was to get rid of the immense web, which, as i have already described, the forest had woven with diabolic ingenuity all around, and in and out the skeleton of the sturdy old masonry. till that was done, it was impossible to get any notion of the ground plan of the several connected buildings. so the first day was taken up with the chopping and slashing of vegetable serpents, the tearing out of roots that writhed as if with conscious life, the shearing away of all manner of haunted leafage, all those dense fierce growths with which nature loves to proclaim her luxuriant victory over the work of man's hands--as soon, so to say, as his back is turned for a moment--like a stealthy savage foe ever on the watch in the surrounding darkness and only waiting for the hushing of human voices, for the cessation of human footsteps, to rush in and overwhelm. "'i passed by the walls of balclutha and they were desolate'" quoted the "king," touched, as a less reflective mind must have been, by this sinister triumph of those tireless natural forces that neither slumber nor sleep. "here," said he, "is the future of london and paris--in miniature. the flora and fauna will be different. there will be none of these nasty centipedes" (he had just crushed one with his foot), "and oaks, beeches, and other such friendly trees will take the place of these outlandish monstrosities. that pretty creature, the wild rose, will fill the desolation with her sweet breath, but the incredible desolation will be there; and as we here to-day watch this gum-elemi tree, flourishing where the good teach 'gloried and drank deep,' so the men of future days will hear the bittern booming in the rue de la paix and their children will go a-blackberrying in trafalgar square. selah!" two days we were at it with axe and machete--wearisome work which gave tom and me occasion to exchange memories of the month we had put in together on the dead men's shoes. we smiled at each other, as the other fellows groaned and sweated. it seemed child's play to us, after what we had gone through. "they should have been with us, tom, shouldn't they? they'd have known what work is;" and i added, for the fun of watching his face: "i wonder whether we'll find any gentlemen playing poker downstairs, tom." "god forbid, sar! god forbid!" he exclaimed, with a look of terror. the next step was the clearing away of the mounds of fallen masonry and various rubbish, which still lay between us and our fortune--tedious preliminaries which chafed the boyish heart of the "king." to tell the truth, i believe we had both expected to uncover a glittering hoard with the first stroke of the pick. "'and metals cry to me to be delivered!'" quoted the "king," whimsically, fuming as he took his long strides, hither and thither amid the rubbish-heaps, so slow to disappear and reveal those underground passages and hidden vaults, by which the fancies of both of us were obsessed. we had worked for a week before we made a clearance of the ground floor. then at last we came upon a solidly built stone staircase, winding downward. after clearing away the debris with which it was choked to a depth of some twenty or thirty steps, we came to a stout wooden door studded with nails. "the dungeon at last," said the "king." "the kitchens, i bet," said i. after some battering, the door gave way with a crash, a mouldering breath as of the grave met our nostrils, and a cloud of bats flew in our faces, and set the negroes screaming. a huge cavernous blackness was before us. the "king" called for lanterns. as we raised these above our heads, and peered into the darkness, we both gave a laugh. "'_yo--ho--ho--and a bottle of rum,_'" sang the "king." for all along the walls stood, or lay prone on trestles, a silent company of hogsheads, festooned with cobwebs, like huge black wings. it was the pirate's wine cellar! * * * * * such was our discovery for that day, but there is another matter which i must mention--the fact that, somehow, the news of our excavation seemed to have got down to the settlement. it is a curious fact, as the "king" observed, that if a man should start to dig for gold in the centre of sahara, with no possible means of communicating with his fellows, on the third day, there would not fail to be some one to drop in and remark on the fineness of the weather. so it was with us. as a general thing, not once in a month did a human being wander into that wilderness where the "king" had made his home. there was nothing to bring them there, and, as i have made clear, the way was not easy. yet we had hardly begun work when one and another idle nigger strolled in from the settlement, and stood grinning his curiosity at our labours. "i believe it's them black parrots has told them," said old tom, pointing to a bird common in the islands--something like a small crow with a parrot's beak. "they're very knowing birds." i saw that tom was serious. so i tried to draw him out. "what language do they speak, tom?" i asked. "them, sar? they speak egyptian," he answered, with perfect solemnity. "egyptian!" "yes, sar," said tom. "egyptian?--but who's going to understand them?" "there's always some old wise man or woman in every village, sar, who understands them. you remember old king coffee in grant's town?" "does he know egyptian?" "o yaas, sar! he knows 'gyptian right enough. and he could tell you every word them birds says--if he's a mind to." "i wonder if tobias knows egyptian, tom?" "i wouldn't be at all surprised, sar," he answered; "he looks like that kind of man," and he added something about the prince of the powers of the air, and suggested that tobias had probably sold his soul to the devil, and had, therefore, the advantage of us in superior sources of information. "he's not unlike one of those black parrots himself, is he, tom?" i added, for tom's words had conjured up a picture for me of tobias, with his great beak, and his close-set evil eyes, and a familiar in the form of a black parrot perched on his shoulders, whispering into one of his ugly ears. however, we continued with our digging, and tobias continued to make no sign. but, at the close of the third day from our discovery of john teach's wine cellar, something happened which set at rest the question of tobias's knowledge of egyptian, and proved that he was all too well served by his aërial messengers. the three days had been uneventful. we had made no more discoveries, beyond the opening up of various prosaic offices and cellars that may once have harboured loot but were now empty of everything but bats and centipedes. but, toward evening of the third day, we came upon a passage leading out of one of these cellars; it had such a promising appearance that we kept at work later than usual, and the sun had set and night was rapidly falling as we turned homeward. as we came in sight of the house, we were struck by the peculiar hush about it, and there were no lights in the windows. "no lights!" the "king" and i exclaimed together, involuntarily hurrying our steps, with a foreboding of we knew not what in our hearts. as we crossed the lawn, the house loomed up dark and still, and the door opening on to the loggia was a square of blackness, in a gloom of shadows hardly less profound. not a sound, not a sign of life! "calypso!" we both cried out, as we rushed across the loggia. "calypso! where are you?--but there was no answer; and then, i, being ahead of the "king," stumbled over something dark lying across the doorway. "good god! what is this?" i cried, and, bending down, i saw that it was samson. the "king" struck a match. yes! it was samson, poor fellow, with a dagger firmly planted in his heart. near by, something white caught my eye attached to the lintel of the doorway. it was a piece of paper held there with a sailor's knife. i tore it off in a frenzy, and--the "king" striking another match--we read it together. it bore but a few words, written all in capital letters with a coarse pencil: "will return the lady in exchange for the treasure," and it was signed "h.p.t." chapter xiv _in which i lose my way._ i stood a full minute with the astonishing paper in my hand, too stunned to speak or move. it seemed too incredible an outrage to realise. then a torrent of feelings swept over me--wild fear for her i loved, and impotent fury against the miscreant who had dared even to conceive so foul a sacrilege. to think of her beauty subject to such coarse ruffianism! i pictured her bound and gagged and carried along through the brush in the bestial grasp of filthy negroes, and it seemed as though my brain would burst at the thought. "the audacity of the fellow!" exclaimed the "king," who was the first to recover. "but calypso!" i cried. the "king" laid his hand on my shoulder, reassuringly. "don't be afraid for her," he said. "i know my daughter." "but i love her!" i cried, thus blurting out in my anguish what i had designed to reveal in some tranquil chosen hour. "i have loved her for twenty years," said the "king," exasperatingly calm. "'jack harkaway' can take care of himself." i was not even astonished at the time. "but something must be done," i cried. "i will go to the commandant at once and rouse the settlement. give me a lantern," i called to one of the negroes, who by this had come up to us, and were standing around in a terrified group. i waited only for it to be lit, and then, without a word, dashed wildly into the forest. "hadn't you better take some one with you?" i heard the "king" call after me, but i was too distraught to reply, plunging headforemost through the tangled darkness--my brain boiling like a cauldron with anger and a thousand fears, and my heart stung too with wild unreasoning remorse. after all, it was my doing. "to think! to think! to think!" i cried aloud--leaving the rest unspoken. i meant that it had all come of my insensate pursuit of that filthy treasure, when all the time the only treasure i coveted was calypso herself. poor old ignorant tom had been right, after all. nothing good came of such enterprises. there was a curse upon them from the beginning. and then, as i thought of tobias, my body shook so that i could hardly keep on walking, and, next minute, my hatred of him so nerved me up again that i ran on through the brush, like a madman, my clothes clutched at by the devilish vines and torn at every yard. i fled past the scene of our excavations, looking more haunted than ever in the flashing gleam of the lantern. with an oath, i left them behind, as the accursed cause of all this evil; but i cannot have gone by them many yards when suddenly i felt the ground giving way beneath me with a violent jerk. my arms went up in a wild effort to save myself, and then, in a panic of fright, i felt myself shooting downward, as one might fall down the shaft of a mine. vainly i clutched at rocky walls as i sped down in the earth-smelling darkness. i seemed to be falling forever, and for a moment my head cleared and i had time to think of the crash that was coming, at the end of my fall--a crash which, i said to myself, must mean death. it came with sudden crunching pain, a swift tightening round my heart, as though black ropes were being lashed tightly about it, squeezing out my breath; then entire blackness engulfed me, and i knew no more. * * * * * how long i lay there in the darkness i cannot tell. all i remember is my suddenly opening my eyes on intense blackness, and vaguely wondering where i was. my head felt strangely clear and alive, but for a moment i could remember nothing. i was conscious only of a strong earthy smell, and my eyes felt so keen that, as the phrase goes, they seemed to make darkness visible. they seemed, too, to see themselves, as rings of light in the blackness. my head, too, seemed entirely detached from my body, of which, so far, i was unconscious. but, presently, the realisation of it returned, and involuntarily i tried to move--to find, with a sort of indifferent mild surprise, that it was impossible. so there i lay, oddly content, in the dark--the pungent smell of the earth my only sensation, and my head uselessly clear. then, bit by bit, it all came back to me, like returning circulation in a numbed limb; but as yet dreamily, as something long ago and far away. then i found myself partly risen, leaning on my elbow, and looking about--into nothingness. then feeling seemed slowly to be coming back to the rest of me. my head was no longer isolated. it was part of a heavy something that lay inert on the ground, and was beginning to feel numbly--to ache dully. then i found that i could move one of my legs, then the other, and eventually, with a mighty effort, i could almost raise myself. but, for the moment, i had to fall back. the remembrance of what had happened began to grow in force and keenness and, of a sudden, the thought of calypso smote me like a sword! spurred to desperate effort, i stood up on the instant and leaned against a rocky wall. miracle of miracles! i could stand. i was not dead, after all. i was not, indeed, so far as i could tell, seriously hurt. badly bruised, of course--but no bones broken. it seemed incredible, but it was so. the realisation made me feel weak again, and i sat down with my back propped up against the rock, and waited for more strength. slowly my thoughts fumbled around the situation. then, as by force of habit, my hand went to my pocket. god be praised! i had matches, and i cried with thankfulness, out of very weakness. but i still sat on in the dark for a while. i felt very tired. after thinking about it for a long time, i took out my precious match-box, which unconsciously i had been hugging with my hand, and struck a light, looking about me in a dazed fashion. the match burnt down to my fingers, and i threw it away, as the flame stung me. i had seen something of my surroundings, enough to last my tired brain for a minute or two. i was at the bottom of a sort of crevasse, a narrow cleft in the rocks which continued on in a slanting downward chasm into the darkness. it was a natural corridor, with a floor of white sand. the sand had accounted for my coming off without any broken bones. after another minute or two, i struck another match, and lo! another miracle. there was my lantern lying beside me. the glass of it was broken, but that was no matter. as i lit the wick, my hopes leapt up with the flame. at the worst, i had light. "_lux in tenebris!_" i seemed to hear the voice of the "king"--inextinguishably gay; and, at the thought of him, my inertia passed. what could he be thinking? his daughter spirited away, and now i too mysteriously vanished. what was happening up there, all this time? up there! how far was it to "up there"? how far had i fallen? all about me was so terribly still and shut away. i could believe myself at the very centre of the earth, and it seemed ages ago, æons of time, since i had last seen the "king." what time was it? i felt for my watch. i found but the wreck of it. it was the only thing that had suffered. it was smashed to smithereens. then i moved myself again, and, taking up the lantern, raised it aloft, but the chasm down which i had fallen went up and up in a slanting direction, and lost itself in darkness. bringing the lantern down to the level again, i examined the rock corridor. behind me, as before me, it continued--a long, deep fissure, splitting its way through the earth. i limped my way along some yards of the section that lay before me, but it seemed to me that it was growing narrower as it went on, as though it were coming to an end; and indeed, after a while, i came to a place too narrow for me to pass. i swung my lantern aloft, seeking the possibilities of a climb, but everywhere it was sheer, without a ledge or protuberance of any kind to take advantage of, and it was utterly devoid of vegetation--not a sign of a friendly shrub or root to hold by. so i turned back to try my luck in the other direction. but first i shouted and shouted with all my might. i could not be far away from the ruins, and there was a chance of some one hearing me. however, i had little faith in my effort, and was too tired to keep it up; so i turned with my lantern toward the other end of the corridor. and here it was easy going, along a gently-graded descent, covered, as i have said, with white sand, in which shells were here and there embedded. my heart beat wildly. perhaps i had only to walk on a little farther to come out on the sea--for here certainly the sea had been once, whether or not it came up there any more. vain hope!--for when i had followed the corridor some fifty yards or so, it suddenly widened out for a few yards into something of a cavern, and then as suddenly narrowed into a mere slit, and so came to an end. the deadening of my spark of hope weakened me. i slid down, with my back against the rock, and gave way to despair. as i looked up at the smooth implacable walls that imprisoned me, i felt like some poor insect clinging to the side of a bowl partly filled with water. how frantically the poor creature claws and claws the polished sides, at each effort slipping nearer and nearer to the fatal flood. i had sense enough to know that i was too tired to think profitably, and drowsiness coming over me told me that an hour or two's sleep would give me the strength i needed to renew with a will, and more chance of success, my efforts to escape. light was too precious to waste, so i blew out my lantern, and, curling up on the sand, almost instantly fell asleep. but, before i lapsed into unconsciousness, i had clutched hold of one sustaining thought in the darkness--the assurance of calypso's safety, so confidently announced by her father: "don't be afraid for her. i know my daughter." whatever happened to me, she would come out all right. as her brave shape flashed before my mind's eye, down there under the earth, i could have no doubt of that. chapter xv _in which i pursue my studies as a troglodyte._ my instinct had been right in giving way to my drowsiness, for i woke up from my sleep a new man. how long i had been there, of course, i had no means of knowing; but i fancy i must have slept a good while, for i felt so refreshed and full of determination to tackle my escape in good earnest. it is remarkable how rest sharpens one's perceptions. when we are weary, we only half see what we look at, and the very thing we are desperately seeking may be right under our nose and we quite unaware. so i had hardly relit my lantern, when its rays revealed something which it seemed impossible for any one with eyes, however weary, to have overlooked. in the right-hand corner of the little cavern, five or six feet above my head, was a dark hole, like the entrance to a tunnel, or, more properly speaking, a good-sized burrow--for it was scarcely more than a yard in diameter. it seemed to be something more than a mere cavity in the rock, for, when i flashed my lantern up to it, i could see no end. to climb up to it, at first, seemed difficult; but providentially, i had a stout claspknife in my pocket, and with this i cut a step or two in the porous rock, and so managed it. lying flat on my stomach, i looked in. it was, as i had thought, a narrow natural tunnel, snaking through the rocks--as often happens in those curious fantastic coral formations--for all the world, indeed, as if it had been made ages ago by some monstrous primeval serpent, a giant worm-hole no less, leading--heaven alone knew where. there was just room to crawl along it on all fours, so i started cautiously, making sure i had my precious matches, and my jackknife all safe. after all, i said to myself, i was no worse off than thousands of poor devils in mines. i had myself snaked through just such passages in coal-mines. still, i confess that the choking sense of being shut in this earth-smelling tube, like a fox in a drain, and the sudden realisation of the appalling tonnage of superincumbent earth above me--liable at any moment to loosen, and, as with a giant thumb, press out my poor little insect existence--made the sweat pour from me and my heart stand still. i had to shut my eyes for a moment and command myself back to calmness and courage, before i could go on. above all things i had to blindfold my imagination, the last companion for such a situation. after this first flurry of fear, i went on crawling in a methodical way, allowing no thought to enter my mind that did not concern the yard or two of earth immediately ahead of me. so i progressed, i should say, for some twenty or thirty yards when, to my inexpressible relief, i came out, still on all fours, onto a spreading floor; then, standing up, i perceived that i was in a cave of considerable loftiness, and some forty feet or so across. it was good to breathe again such comparatively free air; yet, as i looked about and made the circuit of the walls, i saw that i had but exchanged one prison for another. there was this difference, however: whereas there had only been one passageway from the cave i had just left, there were several similar outlets from that in which i now stood. two or three of them proved to be nothing but alcoves that ran a few yards and then stopped. but there were two close by each other which seemed to continue on. there was not much choice between them, but, as both made in the same direction, as far as i could judge the direction in which i had so far progressed, i decided to take the larger one. it proved to be a passage much like the tunnel i had already traversed, only a little roomier, and therefore it was easier going, and it, too, brought me out, as had the other, on another cavern--but one considerably larger in extent. here, however, i speedily perceived that it was not a case of one cavern, but several--opening out, by natural archways one into another. i walked eagerly through them, scanning their ceilings for sign of some outlet into the upper air; but in vain. still, after the strangling embrace of those tunnels, it was good to have so much space to breathe and walk about in. in fact, i had stumbled on something like a monte cristo suite of underground apartments. and here for a moment i released my imagination from her blinders, and allowed her to play around these strange halls. and in one of her suggestions there was some comfort. it was hardly likely that caverns of such extent had waited for me to discover them. they must surely have been known to teach, or whatever buccaneer it was who had occupied the ruined mansion not so very far above-ground. what better place could be conceived for his business? it was even likely--more than likely, almost certain--that there was some secret passageway connecting this series of caves with the old house--if one could only find it. and so the dear creature prattled on to me, till i thought it was time to blindfold her again--and return to business. still, there was something in what she had said, and i set about the more carefully to examine every nook and corner. and, if i didn't find anything so splendid as she had dreamed, i did presently find evidence that, as she had said, i was not the first human being to stand where now i stood. two iron staples imbedded in one of the walls, with rusting chains and manacles attached, were melancholy proof of one of the uses to which the place had once been put. melancholy for certain unhappy souls long since free of all mortal chains, but for me--need i say it?--exceedingly joyous. for if there had been a way to bring prisoners here, it was none the less evident that there had been a way to take them out. but how and where? again i searched every nook and cranny. there was no sign of entrance anywhere. then a thought occurred to me. what if the entrance were after the manner of a mediæval oubliette--through the ceiling! there was a thought indeed to send one's hopes soaring. i ran in my eagerness through one cavern after another, holding my lantern aloft. that must be the solution. there could be no other way. i sought and sought, but alas! it was a false hope, and i threw myself down in a corner in despair, deciding that the prisoners must have been forced to crawl in as i had--though it was hardly like jailers to put themselves to such inconvenience. i leaned back against the wall and gazed listlessly upward. next moment i had bounded to my feet again. surely i had seen some short regular lines running up the face of the rock, like a ladder. i raised my lantern. sure enough, they were iron rounds set in the face of the rock, and they mounted up till i lost them in the obscurity, for the cave here must have been forty feet high. blessed heaven! i was saved! but alas! they did not begin till some six feet above my head, and the wall was sheer. how was i to reach the lowest rung? the rock was too sheer for me to cut steps in, as i had done farther back. i looked about me. again the luck was with me. in one of the caves i had noticed some broken pieces of fallen rock. they were terribly heavy, but despair lent me strength, and after an hour or two's work, i had managed to roll several of them to the foot of the ladder, and--with an effort of which i would not have believed myself capable--had been able to build them one on top of another against the wall. so, i found myself able to grasp the lowest rung with my hands. then, fastening the lantern round my neck with my necktie, i prepared to mount. the climb was not difficult, once i had managed to get my feet on the first rung of the ladder, but there was always the chance that one of the rungs might have rusted loose with time, in which case, of course, it would have given way in my grasp, and i should have been precipitated backward to certain death below. however, the man who had mortised them had done an honest piece of work, and they proved as firm as on the day they were placed there. up and up i went, till i must have been forty feet above the floor, and, then, as i neared the roof, instead of coming to a trap door, as i had conjectured, i found that the ladder came to an end at the edge of a narrow ledge, running along the ceiling much as a clerestory runs near the roof of some old churches. on to this i managed to climb. it was barely a yard wide, and the impending roof did not permit of one's standing erect. it was a dizzy situation, and it seemed safest to crawl along on all fours, holding the lantern in front of me. presently it brought me up sharp in a narrow recess. it had come to an end. yes! but imagine my joy! it had come to an end at a low archway rudely cut in the rock. deep set in the archway was a stout wooden door. my first thought was that i was trapped again, but, to my infinite surprise and gratitude, it proved to be slightly ajar, and a vigorous push sent it grinding back on its hinges. what next! i wondered. at all events, i was no longer lost in the bowels of the earth; step by step, i was coming nearer to the frontiers of humanity. but i was certainly not prepared for what next met my eyes, as i pushed through the low doorway with my lantern, and looked around. yes! indeed, man had certainly been here, man, too, very purposeful and businesslike. i was in a sort of low narrow gallery, some forty feet long, to which the arching rock made a crypt-like ceiling. at my first glance, i saw that there was another door at the far end similar to the one i had entered by; and on the left side of the gallery, built of rough stones from the low ceiling to the floor, was a series of compartments, each with locked wooden door. they were strong and grim looking, and might have been taken for prison cells, or family vaults, or possibly wine-bins. the massive locks were red with rust, and there was plainly no possibility of my opening them. on the other side of the gallery there was a litter of old chains, and some boards, probably left over from the doors. yes! and there were two old flintlock guns, and several cutlasses, all eaten away with rust, also a rough seaman's chest open and falling to pieces. at the sight of that, a wild thought flashed through my brain. what if--good god!--what if this was john teach's treasury!--behind those grim doors. i threw myself with all my force against one and then the other. for the moment i forgot that my paramount business was to escape. but i might as well have hurled myself against the solid rock. and, at that moment, i noticed that the place was darker than it had been. my lantern was going out. in a moment or two, i should be in the pitch dark, and i had discovered that the door at the end of the gallery was as solid as the others. i was to be trapped, after all; and i pictured myself slowly dying there of hunger--the pangs of which i was already beginning to feel--and some one, years hence, finding me there, a mouldering skeleton--some one who would break open those doors, uncover those gleaming hoards, and moralise on the irony of my end; condemned to die there of starvation, with the treasure i had so long sought on the other side of those unyielding doors. old tom's words suddenly flashed over me, and i could feel my hair literally beginning to rise. "there never was a buried treasure yet that didn't claim its victim." great god!--and i was to be the ghost, and keep guard in this terrible tomb till the next dead man came along to relieve me of my sentry duty! frantically i turned up the wick of my lantern at the thought--but it was no use; it was plainly going out. i examined my match-box; i had still a dozen or so matches left. and then my eye fell on that shattered chest. there were those boards, too. at all events i could build a fire and make torches of slivers of wood, so long as the wood lasted. and then i had an idea. why not make the fire against the door at the end of the gallery, and so burn my way through. bravo! my spirits rose at the thought, and i set to at once--splitting some small kindling with my knife. in a few minutes i had quite a sprightly little fire going at the bottom of the door; but i saw that i should have to be extravagant with my wood if the fire was to be effective. however, it was neck or nothing; so i piled on beams and boards till my fire roared like a furnace, and presently i had the joy of seeing it begin to take hold of the door--which, after a short time, began to crackle and splutter in a very cheering fashion. whatever lay beyond, it was evident that i should soon be able to break my way through the obstacle, and, indeed, so it proved; for, presently, i used one of the boards as a battering ram, and, to my inexpressible joy, it went crashing through, with a shower of sparks, and it was but the work of a few more minutes before the whole door fell flaming down, and i was able to leap through the doorway into the darkness on the other side. as i stood there, peering ahead, and holding aloft a burning stick--which proved, however, a poor substitute for my lantern--a wonderful sound smote my ears. i could not believe it, and my knees shook beneath me. it was the sound of the sea. yes! it was no illusion. it was the sound that the sea makes singing and echoing through hollow caves--the sound i heard that night as i stood at the moonlit door of calypso's cavern, and saw that vision which my heart nearly broke to remember. calypso! o calypso! where was she at this moment? pray god that she was indeed safe, as her father had said. but i had to will her from my mind, to keep from going mad. and my poor torch had gone out, having, however, given me light enough to see that the door which i had just burnt through let out on to a narrow platform on the side of a rock that went slanting down into a chasm of blackness, through which, as in a great shell, boomed that murmuring of the sea. it had a perilous ugly look, and it was plain that it would be foolhardy to attempt it at the moment without a light; and my fire was dying down. besides, i was beginning to feel lightheaded and worn out, partly from lack of food, no doubt. as there was no food to be had, i recalled the old french proverb, "he eats who sleeps"--or something to that effect--and i determined to husband my strength once more with a brief rest. however, as i turned to throw some more wood on my fire--preparing to indulge myself with a little camp-fire cheerfulness as i dozed off--my eyes fell once more on that grim line of locked doors; and my curiosity, and an idea, made me wakeful again. i had burned down one door--why not another? why not, indeed? so i raked over my fire to the family vault nearest to me, and presently had it roaring and licking against the stout door. it was, apparently, not so solid as the gallery door had been. at all events, it kindled more easily, and it was not long before i had the satisfaction of battering that down too. as i did so, i caught sight of something in the interior that made me laugh aloud and behave generally like a madman. of course, i didn't believe my eyes--but they persisted in declaring, nevertheless, that there in front of me was a great iron-bound oaken chest, to begin with. it might not, of course, contain anything but bones--but it might--! the thing was too absurd. i must have fallen asleep--must be already dreaming! but no! i was labouring with all my strength to open it with one of those rusty cutlasses. it was a tough job, but my strength was as the strength of ten, for the old treasure-hunting lust was upon me, and i had forgotten everything else in the world. at last, with a great wooden groan, as though its heart were breaking at having to give up its secret at last, it crashed open. i fell on my knees as though i had been struck by lightning, for it was literally brimming over with silver and gold pieces--doubloons and pieces of eight; english and french coins, too--guineas and louis d'or: "all"--as tobias's manuscript had said--"all good money." for a while i knelt over it, dazed and blinded, lost; then i slowly plunged my hands into it, and let the pieces pour and pour through them, literally bathing them in gold and silver, as i had read of misers doing. meanwhile, i talked insanely to myself, made all sorts of inarticulate noises, sang shreds of old songs. rising at length, i capered up and down the gallery, talking aloud to the "king" as though he had been there, and anon breaking out again into absurd song, roaring it out at the top of my voice, laughing and war-whooping between: "there was chest on chest of spanish gold, with a ton of plate in the middle hold, and the cabin's riot of loot untold." then suddenly i broke out into an irish jig--never having had any notion of doing such a thing before. in fact i behaved as i have read of men doing, whom a sudden fortune has bereft of reason. for the time, at all events, i was a gibbering madman. certainly, there was to be no sleep for me that night! but, in the full tide of my frenzy, i suddenly noticed something that brought me up sharp. out beyond the doorway it was growing light. it was only a dim tremulous suffusion of it, indeed, but it was real daylight--oozing in from somewhere or other--the blessed, blessed, daylight! god be praised! chapter xvi _in which i understand the feelings of a ghost!_ so, i surmised, i had been underground a whole day and two nights, and this was the morning of the second day after calypso's disappearance. what had been happening to her all this time! my flesh crept at the thought, and, with that daylight stealing in like a living presence, and the sound and breath of the sea, my anguish returned a hundredfold. it was like coming to, after an anæsthetic, for i realised that, actively as i had been occupied in trying to escape, i had been, all the time, under a curious numbing spell. just as my ears had seemed muffled with a silence that was more than the stillest silence above ground; silence that was itself a captive, airless and gasping, so to say, with the awful pressure of all that oblivious earth above and around; a silence that made me realise with a dreadful reality what had been a mere phrase before, "the silence of the grave"; silence literally buried alive, with eyes fixed in a trance of horror; just in the same way, all my feelings of mind and heart, memory and emotion, had likewise been deadened, as with some heavy narcotic of indifference, so that i felt and yet did not feel--remembered and yet did not remember. the events of a few hours before, and the dearly loved friends taking part in them, seemed infinitely remote, for all their clearness, as when we see a figure waving to us from a distance, and know that it is calling to us, but yet we cannot hear a word. even so one lies back in the grip of a deadly sickness, and all that formerly had been so important and moving seems like a picture, definite yet remote, in which one has no part any more. i think one would die soon and easily underground, as creatures in a vacuum, for the will to live has so little to nourish itself on. one's whole nature falls into a catalepsy; all one's faculties seem asleep, save the animal impulse to escape--an impulse that would soon grow weary too. so, it seemed to me, as i saw a little light and drew the breath of the living world once more, that even my love for calypso had, so to say, been in a state of suspended animation during an entombment which was heavy with the poppy of the grave, and made me understand why the dead forget us so soon. but now, as i stood on the little rocky platform outside the door through which i had burned my way, and looked down into the glimmering chasm beneath, and heard the fresh voice of the sea huskily rumbling and reverberating about hidden grottoes and channels, all that calypso was to me came back with the keenness of a sword through my heart. ah! there was my treasure--as i had known when my eyes first beheld her--compared with which that gold and silver in there, whose gleam had made me momentarily distraught, was but so much dust and ashes. ardently as i had sought it, what was it compared to one glance of her eyes? what if, in the same hour, i had lost my true treasure, and found the false? at the thought, that glittering heap became abhorrent to me, and, without looking back, i sought for some way by which i could descend. as my eyes grew accustomed to the dim light, i saw that there were some shallow steps cut diagonally in the rock, and down these i had soon made my way, to find myself in a roomy corridor, so much like that in which i had seen calypso standing in the moonlight, that, for a moment, i dreamed it was the same, and started to run down it, thinking, indeed, that my troubles were over--that in another moment i would emerge through that enchanted door and face the sea. the more so, as the sand was wet under my feet, showing that the tide had but recently left it. but alas! instead of a broad shining doorway, and open arms of freedom widespread for me to leap into, i came at last to a mere long narrow slit--through which i could gaze as a man gazes through a prison window at the sky. the entrance had once been wide and free, but a mass of rock had fallen from above and blocked it up, leaving only a long crack through which the tides passed to and fro. i was still in my trap; it seemed more terrible than ever, now that i could see freedom so close and shining, her very robe rustling within a few feet of me, her very voice calling to me, singing the morning song of the sea. but in the caverns behind me, i heard another mocking song, and i felt a cold breath on my cheek, for death stood by my side a-grin. "the treasure!" he whispered, "i need you to guard that. the treasure you have risked all to win--the treasure for which you have lost--your treasure! you cannot escape. go back and count your gold. 'it is all good money'! ha! ha! 'it is all good money'!" the illusion seemed so real to me that i cried aloud: "i will not die! i will not die!"--cried it so loud, that any one in a passing boat might have heard me, and shuddered, wondering what poor ghost it was wailing among the rocks. but the fright had done me good, and i nerved myself for another effort. i examined the long crevice through which the sea was glittering so near. it was not so narrow as at first it had seemed, and i reckoned that it was some twenty feet through. on my side, it was a little over a foot across. wouldn't it be possible to wedge myself through? i tried it at the opening, and found, that, with my arms extended sidewise, it was comparatively easy to enter it, though it was something of a tight fit. if it only kept the same width all through, i ought to be able to manage it, inch by inch, if it took all day. but, did it? on the contrary, it seemed to me that it narrowed slightly toward the middle, and--judging by the way the light fell on the other side--that it widened out again farther on. if only i could wriggle past that contraction in the middle, i should be safe. and if i stuck fast midway! but the more i measured the width with my eye, the less the narrowing seemed to be. to be so slightly perceptible, it could hardly be enough to make much difference. caution whispered that it might be enough to make the difference between life and death. but already my choice of those two august alternatives was so limited as hardly to be called a choice. on the one hand, i could worm my way back through the caves and tunnels through which i had passed, and try my luck again at the other end. "with half-a-dozen matches!" sneered a voice that sounded like tobias's--"precisely" ... and the horror of it was more than i dared face again any way. so there was nothing for it but this aperture, hardly wider than one of those deep stone slits that stood for windows in a norman castle. it was my last chance, and i meant to take it like a man. i stood for a moment nerving myself and taking deep breaths, as though i expected to take but few more. then, my left arm extended, i entered sidewise, and began to edge myself along. it was easy enough for a yard or two, after which it was plain that it was beginning to narrow. very slightly indeed, but still a little. however, i could still go on, and--i could still go back. i went on--more slowly it is true, yet still i progressed. but the rock was perceptibly closer to me. i had to struggle harder. it was beginning to hug me--very gently--but it was beginning. i paused to take breath. i could not turn my head to look back, but i judged that i had come over a third of the way. i was coming up to the waist that i had feared, but i could still go on--very slowly, scarce more than an inch at every effort; yet every inch counted, and i had lots of time. my feet and head were free--which was the main thing. another good push or two, and i should be at the waist--should know my fate. i gave the good push or two, and suddenly the arms of the rock were around me. tight and close, this time, they hugged me. they held me fast, like a rude lover, and would not let me go. my knees and feet were fast, and the walls on each side pressed my cheeks. my head too was fast. i could not move an inch forward--and it was too late to go back! panic swept over me. i felt that my hair must be turning white. presently i ceased to struggle. but the rocks held me in their giant embrace. there was no need for me to do anything. i could go on resting there--it was very comfortable--till-- and then i felt something touching my feet, running away and then touching them again. o god! it was the incoming tide! it would--and then i prepared myself to die. i suppose i was lightheaded, with the strain and the lack of food, for, after the first panic, i found myself dreamily, almost luxuriously, making pictures of how brave men had died in the past--brave women too. i fancied myself in one and another situation. but the picture that persisted was that of the conciergerie during the french revolution. i was a noble, talking gaily to beautiful ladies also under the shadow of death, and, right in the middle of a jest, a gloomy fellow had just come in--to lead me to the guillotine. the door was opening, and i kissed my hand in farewell-- then the picture vanished, as i felt the swish of the tide round my ankles. it would soon be up to my knees-- it _was_ up to my knees--it was creeping past them--and it was making that hollow song in the caves behind me that had seemed so kind to me that very morning, the song it had made to calypso ... that far-off night under the moon. i turned my eyes over the sea--i could move _them,_ at all events; how gloriously it was shining out there! and here was i, helpless, with arms extended, as one crucified. i closed my eyes in anguish, and let my body relax; perhaps i dozed, or perhaps i fainted--but, suddenly, what was that that had aroused me, summoned me back to life? it seemed a short, sharp sound--then another, and then another--surely it was the sound of firing! i opened my eyes and looked out to sea, and then i gave a great cry: "calypso! calypso!" i cried. "calypso!"--and it seemed as though a giant's strength were in me--that i could rend the rocks apart. i made a mighty effort, and, whether or not my relaxing had made a readjustment of my position, i found that for some reason i could move forward again, and, with one desperate wriggle, i had my head through the narrow space. to wrench my shoulders and legs after it was comparatively easy, and, in a moment, i was safe on the outer side, where, as i had surmised, the aperture did widen out again. within a few moments, i was on the edge of the sea, had dived, and was swimming madly toward-- but let me tell what i had seen, as i hung there, so helpless, in that crevice in the rocks. chapter xvii _action._ i had seen, close in shore, a two-masted schooner under full sail sweeping by, as if pursued, and three negroes kneeling on deck, with levelled rifles. as i looked, a shot rang out, from my right, where i could not see, and one of the negroes rolled over. another shot, and the negro next him fell sprawling with his arms over the bulwark. at that moment, two other negroes emerged from the cabin hatchway, half dragging and half carrying a woman. she was struggling bravely, but in vain. the negroes--evidently acting under orders of a white man, who stood over them with a revolver--were dragging her toward the mainmast. her head was bare, her hair in disorder, and one shoulder from which her dress had been torn in the struggle, gleamed white in the sunlight. yet her eyes were flashing splendid scornful fires at her captors; and her laughter of defiance came ringing to me over the sea. it was then that i had cried "calypso!" and wrenched myself free. the next moment there came dashing in sight a sloop also under full canvas, and at its bow, a huge white man, with a levelled rifle that still smoked. at a glance, i knew him for charlie webster. he had been about to fire again, but, as the man dragged calypso for'ard, he paused, calm as a rock, waiting, with his keen sportsman's eyes on tobias--for, of course, it was he. "you--coward!" i heard his voice roar across the rapidly diminishing distance between the two boats, for the sloop was running with power as well as sails. meanwhile, the men had lashed calypso to the mast, and even in my agony my eyes recorded the glory of her beauty as she stood proudly there--the great sails spread above her, and the sea for her background. "now, do your worst," cried tobias, his evil face white as wax in the sunlight. "fire, fire--don't be afraid," rang out calypso's voice, like singing gold. at the same instant, as she called, tobias sprang toward her with raised revolver. "another word, and i fire," shouted the voice of the brute. but the rifle that never missed its mark spoke again. tobias's arm fell shattered, and he staggered away screaming. still once more, charlie webster's gun spoke, and the staggering figure fell with a crash on the deck. "now, boys, ready," i heard charlie's voice roar out again, as the sloop tore alongside the schooner--where the rest of the negro crew with raised arms had fallen on their knees, crying for mercy. all this i saw from the water, as i swam wildly toward the two boats, which now had closed on each other, a mass of thundering canvas, and screaming and cursing men--and calypso there, like a beautiful statue, still lashed to the mast, a proud smile on her lovely lips. another moment, and charlie had sprung aboard, and, seizing a knife from one of the screaming negroes, he cut her free. his deep calm voice came to me over the water. "that's what i call courage," he said. "i could never have done it." the "king" had been right. he knew his daughter. by this i was nearing the boats, though as yet no one had seen me. they were all too busy with the confusion on deck, where four men lay dead, and three others still kept up their gibberish of fear. i saw calypso and charlie webster stand a moment looking down at the figure of tobias, prostrate at their feet. "i am sorry i had to kill him," i heard charlie's deep growl. "i meant to keep him for the hangman." but suddenly i saw him start forward and stamp heavily on something. "no, you don't," i heard him roar--and i learned afterward that tobias, though mortally wounded, was not yet dead, and that, as the two had stood looking down on him, they had seen his hand furtively moving toward the fallen revolver that lay a few inches from him on the deck. just as he had grasped it, charlie's heavy boot had come down on his wrist. but tobias was still game. "not alive, you english brute!" he was heard to groan out, and, snatching free his wrist too swiftly to be prevented, he had gathered up all his remaining strength, and hurled himself over the side into the sea. i was but a dozen yards away from him, as he fell; and, as he rose again, it was for his dying eyes to fix with a glare upon me. they dilated with terror, as though he had seen a ghost. then he gave one strange scream, and fell back into the sea, and we saw him no more. * * * * * it will be easier for the reader to imagine, than for me to describe, the look on the faces of calypso and charlie webster when they saw me appear at almost the same spot where poor tobias had just gone bubbling down. words i had none, for i was at the end of my strength, and i broke down and sobbed like a child. "thank god you are safe--my treasure, my treasure!" was all i could say, after they had lifted me aboard, and i lay face down on the deck, at her feet. swiftly she knelt by my side, and caressed my shoulder with her dear hand. all of which--particularly my reference to "my treasure"--must have been much to the bewilderment of the good simple-hearted charlie, towering, innocent-eyed, above us. i believe i stayed a little longer at her feet than i really had need to, for the comfort of her being so near and kind; but, presently, we were all aroused by a voice from the cliffs above. it was the "king," with his bodyguard, erebus and the crew of the _flamingo_--no samson, alas! the sound of the firing had reached them in the woods, and they had come hurrying to discover its cause. so we deferred asking our questions, and telling our several stories, till we were pulled ashore. as calypso was folded in her father's arms, he turned to me: "didn't i tell you that i knew my daughter?" he said. "and i told you something too, o king," i replied--my eyes daring at last to rest on calypso with the love and pride of my heart. "and where on earth have _you_ been, young man?" he asked, laughing. "did tobias kidnap you too?" it was very hard, as you will have seen, to astonish the "king." chapter xviii _gathering up the threads._ but, though it was hard to astonish and almost impossible to alarm the "king," his sense of wonder was quite another matter, and the boyish delight with which he listened to our several stories would have made it worth while to undergo tenfold the perils we had faced. and the best of it was that we each had a new audience in the others--for none of us knew what had happened to the rest, and how it chanced that we should all come to meet at that moment of crisis on the sea. our stories, said the "king," were quite in the manner of "the arabian nights," dovetailing one into the other. "and now," he added, "we will begin with the story of the murdered slave and the stolen lady." calypso told her story simply and in a few words. the first part of it, of which the poor murdered samson had been the eloquent witness, needed no further telling. he had done his brave best--poor fellow--but tobias had had six men with him, and it was soon over. her they had gagged and bound and carried in a sort of improvised sedan-chair; tobias had done the thing with a certain style and--she had to admit--with absolute courtesy. when they had gone a mile or two from the house, he had had the gag taken from her mouth, and, on her promise not to attempt to escape (which was, of course, quite impossible) he had also had her unbound, so that her hurried journey through the woods was made as comfortable as possible. certainly it had not been without its spice of romance, for four of the men had carried lanterns, and their progress must have had a very picturesque effect lighting up the blackness of the strange trees. tobias had walked at her side the whole way, without speaking a word. they were making, she had gathered--and as we had surmised--for the northern shore, and, after about a three hours' march, she heard the sound of the sea. on the schooner she had found a cabin all nicely prepared for her--even dainty toilet necessaries--and an excellent dinner was served, on some quite pretty china, to her alone. poor tobias had seemed bent on showing--as he had said to tom--that he was not the "carrion" we had thought him. after dinner, tobias had respectfully asked leave for a few words with her. he had apologised for his action, but explained that it was necessary--the only way he had left, he said, of protecting his own interests, and safeguarding a treasure which belonged to him and no one else, if it belonged to any living man. it had seemed to her that it was a monomania with him. his eyes had gleamed so, as he spoke of it, that she had felt a little frightened for the first time--for he seemed like a madman on the subject. while he had been talking, she had made up her mind what she would do. she would tell him the plain truth about her doubloons, and offer him what remained of them as a ransom. this she did, and was able at last half to persuade him that, so far as any one knew, that was all the treasure there was, and that the digging among the ruins of the old house was a mere fancy of her father's. there might be something there or not--and she went so far as to give her word of honour that, if anything was found, he should have his share of it. it was rather a woman's way, she admitted, but she thought that, so long as she kept tobias near the island, some favouring incident might happen at any moment--that the proffered ransom, in fact, might prove the bait to a trap. tobias had seemed impressed, and promised his answer in the morning, leaving her to sleep--with a sentry at her cabin door. she had slept soundly, and wakened only at dawn. as soon as she was up, tobias had come to her, saying that he had accepted her offer, and asking her to direct him to her treasure. this she had done, and, to avoid passing the settlement, they had taken the course round the eastern end of the island. as they had approached the cave (and here calypso turned a quizzical smile on me, which no one, of course, understood but ourselves), a sloop was seen approaching them from the westward ... and here she stopped and turned to charlie webster. "now," said the "king," "we shall hear the story of apollo--or, let us say, rather ajax--the far-darter--he of the arrow that never missed its mark." and charlie webster, more at home with deeds than words, blushed and blushed through his part of the story, telling how--having called at the settlement--he had got our message from sweeney, and was making up the coast for the hidden creek. he had spied what he felt sure was tobias's schooner--had called on him "in the king's name" to surrender--("i had in my pocket the warrant for his arrest," said charlie, with innocent pride--"the d----d scoundrel") but had been answered with bullets. he had been terribly frightened, he owned, when calypso had been brought on deck, but she had given him courage--he paused to beam on her, a broad-faced admiration, for which he could find no words--and, as he had never yet missed a flying duck at--i forget how many yards charlie mentioned--well ... perhaps he oughtn't to have risked it--and so his story came to an end, amid reassuring applause. "now," said the "king," "for the story of the disappearing gentleman and the lighted lantern." and then i told my story as it is already known to the reader, and i have to confess that, when i came to the chestful of doubloons and pieces of eight, i had a very attentive audience. but, at first, the "king" shook his head with an amused smile. "ulysses is romancing for the benefit of my romantic second childhood," he said, and then, after his favourite manner he added-- "i might not this believe without the sensible and true avouch of mine own eyes ..." then, he was for starting off that very night. but, reminded of the difficult seclusion in which the treasure still lay, he was persuaded to wait till the morrow. "at dawn then," he said, "to-morrow--'what time, the rosy-footed dawn' ... so be it. and now i am going to talk to ajax the far-darter of duck-shooting." "but wait!" i cried. "why did 'jack harkaway' go to nassau?" calypso blushed. the "king" chuckled. "i prefer not to be known in nassau, yet some of my business has to be done there. nor is it safe for beauty like calypso's to go unprotected. so from time to time, 'jack harkaway' goes for us both! and now enough of explanations!"; and he launched into talk of game and sport in various parts of the world, to the huge delight of the great simple-hearted charlie. but, after a time, other matters claimed the attention of his other auditors. during the flow of his discourse night had fallen. calypso and i perceived that we were forgotten--so, by an impulse that seemed to be one, we rose and left them there, and stole out into the garden where the little fountain was dancing like a spirit under the moon, and the orange trees gave out their perfume on the night breeze. i took her hand, and we walked softly out into the moonlight, and looked down at the closed lotuses in the little pool. and then we took courage to look into each other's eyes. "calypso," i said, "when are you going to show me where you keep your doubloons?"--and i added, in a whisper, "jack--when am i going to see you in boy's clothes again?" and, with that, she was in my arms, and i felt her heart beating against my side. "o! my treasure," i said--ever so softly--"calypso, my treasure." postscript now, such readers as have been "gentle" enough to follow me so far in my story, may possibly desire to be told what lay behind those other locked doors in the underground gallery where i so nearly laid my bones. i should like nothing better than to gratify their legitimate curiosity. but, perhaps, they will not have forgotten my friend john saunders, secretary to the treasury of his britannic majesty's government at nassau. john is a good friend, but he is a man of very rigid principles and a great stickler in regard to any matters pertaining to the interests and duties of his office. were i to divulge--as, i confess, my pen is itching to do--the dazzling--i will even say blinding--contents of these other grim compartments (particularly if i were to give any hint of their value in bullion), no feelings of friendship would for one second weigh with him as against his duty to the august government he so faithfully serves. he may suspect what he likes, but, so long as he actually knows nothing, we may rely on his inactivity. in fact, i know that he has no wish to be told--so far he will go with us, but no further--and, as we wish neither to sully his fine probity, nor, on the other hand, to disgorge our "illgotten gains"--for which, after all, each one of us risked his life (and for which one life, most precious of all, was placed in such terrible jeopardy)--gains too which his britannic majesty is quite rich enough to do without--the readers must pardon me my caution, and draw upon his imagination for what i must not tell him. this, however, i will say: he cannot well imagine too vividly or too magnificently, and that, in fact, he may accept those hyperboles fancifully indulged in by the "king" as very slightly overshooting the mark. we do not, indeed, go disguised in cloth of gold, nor are we blinding to look upon with rings and ropes of pearls. it does not happen to be our western fashion to be so garmented. but--well--i won't say that we couldn't do so if we were so minded. nor will i say, either, that the "king" does not occasionally, in private, masquerade in some such splendour; though, as a rule, he still prefers that shabby tatterdemalion costume which we have still to accept as a vagary of his fantastic nature. he is still the same eternal child, and his latest make-believe has been to fit up those caverns, through which so miserably i wormed my way, with the grandiose luxury of the count of monte cristo; that, as he says, the prophecy might be fulfilled which said: "monte cristo shall seem like a pauper and a penny gaff in comparison with the fantasies of our fearful wealth." those caverns, we afterward discovered, did actually communicate with blackbeard's ruined mansion, and the "king," who has now rebuilt that mansion and lives in it in semi-feudal state with calypso and me, is able to pass from one to the other by underground passages which are an unfailing source of romantic satisfaction to his dear, absurd soul. as to whether or not the mansion and the treasure were actually blackbeard's--that is, edward teach's--we are yet in doubt, though we prefer to believe that they were. at all events, we never found any evidence to connect them at all with henry p. tobias, whose second treasure, we have every reason to think, still remains undiscovered. as for the sinister and ill-fated henry p. tobias, jr., we have since learned--through charlie webster, who every now and again drops in with sailors from his sloop and carries off the "king" for duck-shooting--that his real name was quite different; he must have assumed, as a _nom de guerre,_ the name we knew him by, to give colour to his claim. i am afraid, therefore, that he was a plain scoundrel, after all, though it seemed to me that i saw gleams in him of something better, and i shall always feel a sort of kindness toward him for the saving grace of gallant courtesy with which he invested his rascally abduction of calypso. calypso.... she and i, just for fun, sometimes drop into sweeney's store, and, when she has made her purchases, she draws up from her bosom a little bag, and, looking softly at me, lays down on the counter--a golden doubloon; and sweeney--who, doubtless, thinks us all a little crazy--smiles indulgently on our make-believe. sometimes, on our way home, we come upon tom in the plantations, superintending a gang of the "king's" janissaries--among whom erebus is still the blackest--for tom is now the lord high steward of our estate. he beams on us in a fatherly way, and i lay my hand significantly on my leftside--to his huge delight. he flashes his white teeth and wags his head from side to side with inarticulate enjoyment of the allusion. for who knows? he may be right. in so mysterious a world the smallest cause may lead up to the most august results and there is nothing too wonderful to happen. epilogue by the editor _it remains for me, as sponsor for the foregoing narrative, reluctantly to add a second postscript to that of its author, bringing the fortunes of himself and his friends a little nearer to the present year of grace. not that anything untoward has happened to any of them. their lives are still lived happily in the sun, and their treasure is still safe--somewhere carefully out of the sun. but neither their lives nor their treasure are where my friend's postscript left them. they are, indeed, very much nearer new york than at that writing._ _as a matter of fact, after king alcinoüs had played but a short time at being the count of monte cristo in his underground palace, it gradually was borne in upon his essentially common-sense mind, as upon the minds of calypso and her husband, that their secret was known to too many for its absolute safety. kindly coloured people indeed, and a very friendly "secretary to the british treasury" ... still, there was no knowing, and, on all accounts, they gradually came to the unromantic conclusion that the safe deposit vaults of new york were more reliable than limestone caverns filled with the sound of sea. this conclusion explains the presence of my friend and his lady of the doubloons in the box of the punch and judy theatre that, to me, eventful evening._ _since then, i myself have made a pilgrimage to all the places that play a part in this romance. i have crawled my way through those caves in which my friend came so near to leaving his bones, looked into those vaults once glittering with pieces of eight and all that other undivulged treasure-trove, wedged myself as far as i dared into that slit in the rocks, looking out like a narrow window on the sea._ _all those places are real; any one, with a mind to, can find them; but, should any one care to undertake the pilgrimage, he will note, as i did, that those baronial halls of edward teach--for a while the playground of king alcinoüs--are rapidly being reclaimed by the savage wilderness, fiercely swallowed minute by minute by the fanged and serpentine vegetation--which, after all, was only stayed for a moment, and which, humanly speaking, will now submerge them for all eternity._ _once more, to employ one of the favourite quotations of king alcinoüs, "i passed by the walls of balclutha, and they were desolate." the king, i may be allowed to add, finds new york quite a good place to talk in--though he is frank in saying that he prefers a coral island._ r. le g. the end transcriber's notes: list of a.l. burt company's popular copyright fiction removed. dash lengths standardised. page : changed intance to instance page : changed monto cristo to monte cristo. page : changed mooonlit (non dialogue) to moonlit. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see -h.htm or -h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h/ -h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/ / / / / / -h.zip) buccaneers and pirates of our coasts by frank r. stockton illustrated [illustration: "the pirates climbed up the sides of the man-of-war as if they had been twenty-nine cats."--frontispiece.] [illustration] grosset & dunlap, publishers new york by arrangement with the macmillan company copyright, - , by the century co. copyright, , , by the macmillan company. all rights reserved--no part of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in magazine or newspaper. set up and electrotyped july, . reprinted november, ; september, ; may, ; april, october, ; october, ; march, ; september, ; january, ; october, . printed in the united states of america foreword tempting boys to be what they should be--giving them in wholesome form what they want--that is the purpose and power of scouting. to help parents and leaders of youth secure _books boys like best_ that are also best for boys, the boy scouts of america organized every boy's library. the books included, formerly sold at prices ranging from $ . to $ . but, by special arrangement with the several publishers interested, are now sold in the every boy's library edition at $ . per volume. the books of every boy's library were selected by the library commission of the boy scouts of america, consisting of george f. bowerman, librarian, public library of the district of columbia; harrison w. craver, director, engineering societies library, new york city; claude g. leland, superintendent, bureau of libraries, board of education, new york city; edward f. stevens, librarian, pratt institute free library, brooklyn, n.y., and franklin k. mathiews, chief scout librarian. only such books were chosen by the commission as proved to be, by _a nation wide canvas_, most in demand by the boys themselves. their popularity is further attested by the fact that in the every boy's library edition, more than a million and a quarter copies of these books have already been sold. we know so well, are reminded so often of the worth of the good book and great, that too often we fail to observe or understand the influence for good of a boy's recreational reading. such books may influence him for good or ill as profoundly as his play activities, of which they are a vital part. the needful thing is to find stories in which the heroes have the characteristics boys so much admire--unquenchable courage, immense resourcefulness, absolute fidelity, conspicuous greatness. we believe the books of every boy's library measurably well meet this challenge. boy scouts of america, [signed] james e. west chief scout executive. contents chapter page i. the bold buccaneers ii. some masters in piracy iii. pupils in piracy iv. peter the great v. the story of a pearl pirate vi. the surprising adventures of bartholemy portuguez vii. the pirate who could not swim viii. how bartholemy rested himself ix. a pirate author x. the story of roc, the brazilian xi. a buccaneer boom xii. the story of l'olonnois the cruel xiii. a resurrected pirate xiv. villany on a grand scale xv. a just reward xvi. a pirate potentate xvii. how morgan was helped by some religious people xviii. a piratical aftermath xix. a tight place for morgan xx. the story of a high-minded pirate xxi. exit buccaneer; enter pirate xxii. the great blackbeard comes upon the stage xxiii. a true-hearted sailor draws his sword xxiv. a greenhorn under the black flag xxv. bonnet again to the front xxvi. the battle of the sand bars xxvii. a six weeks' pirate xxviii. the story of two women pirates xxix. a pirate from boyhood xxx. a pirate of the gulf xxxi. the pirate of the buried treasure xxxii. the real captain kidd [illustration: the haunts of "the brethren of the coast"] buccaneers and pirates of our coasts chapter i the bold buccaneers when i was a boy i strongly desired to be a pirate, and the reason for this was the absolute independence of that sort of life. restrictions of all sorts had become onerous to me, and in my reading of the adventures of the bold sea-rovers of the main, i had unconsciously selected those portions of a pirate's life which were attractive to me, and had totally disregarded all the rest. in fact, i had a great desire to become what might be called a marine robin hood. i would take from the rich and give to the poor; i would run my long, low, black craft by the side of the merchantman, and when i had loaded my vessel with the rich stuffs and golden ingots which composed her cargo, i would sail away to some poor village, and make its inhabitants prosperous and happy for the rest of their lives by a judicious distribution of my booty. i would always be as free as a sea-bird. my men would be devoted to me, and my word would be their law. i would decide for myself whether this or that proceeding would be proper, generous, and worthy of my unlimited power; when tired of sailing, i would retire to my island,--the position of which, in a beautiful semi-tropic ocean, would be known only to myself and to my crew,--and there i would pass happy days in the company of my books, my works of art, and all the various treasures i had taken from the mercenary vessels which i had overhauled. such was my notion of a pirate's life. i would kill nobody; the very sight of my black flag would be sufficient to put an end to all thought of resistance on the part of my victims, who would no more think of fighting me, than a fat bishop would have thought of lifting his hand against robin hood and his merry men; and i truly believe that i expected my conscience to have a great deal more to do in the way of approval of my actions, than it had found necessary in the course of my ordinary school-boy life. i mention these early impressions because i have a notion that a great many people--and not only young people--have an idea of piracy not altogether different from that of my boyhood. they know that pirates are wicked men, that, in fact, they are sea-robbers or maritime murderers, but their bold and adventurous method of life, their bravery, daring, and the exciting character of their expeditions, give them something of the same charm and interest which belong to the robber knights of the middle ages. the one mounts his mailed steed and clanks his long sword against his iron stirrup, riding forth into the world with a feeling that he can do anything that pleases him, if he finds himself strong enough. the other springs into his rakish craft, spreads his sails to the wind, and dashes over the sparkling main with a feeling that he can do anything he pleases, provided he be strong enough. the first pirates who made themselves known in american waters were the famous buccaneers; these began their career in a very commonplace and unobjectionable manner, and the name by which they were known had originally no piratical significance. it was derived from the french word _boucanier_, signifying "a drier of beef." some of the west india islands, especially san domingo, were almost overrun with wild cattle of various kinds, and this was owing to the fact that the spaniards had killed off nearly all the natives, and so had left the interior of the islands to the herds of cattle which had increased rapidly. there were a few settlements on the seacoast, but the spaniards did not allow the inhabitants of these to trade with any nation but their own, and consequently the people were badly supplied with the necessaries of life. but the trading vessels which sailed from europe to that part of the caribbean sea were manned by bold and daring sailors, and when they knew that san domingo contained an abundance of beef cattle, they did not hesitate to stop at the little seaports to replenish their stores. the natives of the island were skilled in the art of preparing beef by smoking and drying it,--very much in the same way in which our indians prepare "jerked meat" for winter use. but so many vessels came to san domingo for beef that there were not enough people on the island to do all the hunting and drying that was necessary, so these trading vessels frequently anchored in some quiet cove, and the crews went on shore and devoted themselves to securing a cargo of beef,--not only enough for their own use, but for trading purposes; thus they became known as "beef-driers," or buccaneers. when the spaniards heard of this new industry which had arisen within the limits of their possessions, they pursued the vessels of the buccaneers wherever they were seen, and relentlessly destroyed them and their crews. but there were not enough spanish vessels to put down the trade in dried beef; more european vessels--generally english and french--stopped at san domingo; more bands of hunting sailors made their way into the interior. when these daring fellows knew that the spaniards were determined to break up their trade, they became more determined that it should not be broken up, and they armed themselves and their vessels so that they might be able to make a defence against the spanish men-of-war. thus gradually and almost imperceptibly a state of maritime warfare grew up in the waters of the west indies between spain and the beef-traders of other nations; and from being obliged to fight, the buccaneers became glad to fight, provided that it was spain they fought. true to her policy of despotism and cruelty when dealing with her american possessions, spain waged a bitter and bloody war against the buccaneers who dared to interfere with the commercial relations between herself and her west india colonies, and in return, the buccaneers were just as bitter and savage in their warfare against spain. from defending themselves against spanish attacks, they began to attack spaniards whenever there was any chance of success, at first only upon the sea, but afterwards on land. the cruelty and ferocity of spanish rule had brought them into existence, and it was against spain and her possessions that the cruelty and ferocity which she had taught them were now directed. when the buccaneers had begun to understand each other and to effect organizations among themselves, they adopted a general name,--"the brethren of the coast." the outside world, especially the spanish world, called them pirates, sea-robbers, buccaneers,--any title which would express their lawless character, but in their own denomination of themselves they expressed only their fraternal relations; and for the greater part of their career, they truly stood by each other like brothers. chapter ii some masters in piracy from the very earliest days of history there have been pirates, and it is, therefore, not at all remarkable that, in the early days of the history of this continent, sea-robbers should have made themselves prominent; but the buccaneers of america differed in many ways from those pirates with whom the history of the old world has made us acquainted. it was very seldom that an armed vessel set out from an european port for the express purpose of sea-robbery in american waters. at first nearly all the noted buccaneers were traders. but the circumstances which surrounded them in the new world made of them pirates whose evil deeds have never been surpassed in any part of the globe. these unusual circumstances and amazing temptations do not furnish an excuse for the exceptionally wicked careers of the early american pirates; but we are bound to remember these causes or we could not understand the records of the settlement of the west indies. the buccaneers were fierce and reckless fellows who pursued their daring occupation because it was profitable, because they had learned to like it, and because it enabled them to wreak a certain amount of vengeance upon the common enemy. but we must not assume that they inaugurated the piratical conquests and warfare which existed so long upon our eastern seacoasts. before the buccaneers began their careers, there had been great masters of piracy who had opened their schools in the caribbean sea; and in order that the condition of affairs in this country during parts of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries may be clearly understood, we will consider some of the very earliest noted pirates of the west indies. when we begin a judicial inquiry into the condition of our fellow-beings, we should try to be as courteous as we can, but we must be just; consequently a man's fame and position must not turn us aside, when we are acting as historical investigators. therefore, we shall be bold and speak the truth, and although we shall take off our hats and bow very respectfully, we must still assert that christopher columbus was the first who practised piracy in american waters. when he sailed with his three little ships to discover unknown lands, he was an accredited explorer for the court of spain, and was bravely sailing forth with an honest purpose, and with the same regard for law and justice as is possessed by any explorer of the present day. but when he discovered some unknown lands, rich in treasure and outside of all legal restrictions, the views and ideas of the great discoverer gradually changed. being now beyond the boundaries of civilization, he also placed himself beyond the boundaries of civilized law. robbery, murder, and the destruction of property, by the commanders of naval expeditions, who have no warrant or commission for their conduct, is the same as piracy, and when columbus ceased to be a legalized explorer, and when, against the expressed wishes, and even the prohibitions, of the royal personages who had sent him out on this expedition, he began to devastate the countries he had discovered, and to enslave and exterminate their peaceable natives, then he became a master in piracy, from whom the buccaneers afterward learned many a valuable lesson. it is not necessary for us to enter very deeply into the consideration of the policy of columbus toward the people of the islands of the west indies. his second voyage was nothing more than an expedition for the sake of plunder. he had discovered gold and other riches in the west indies and he had found that the people who inhabited the islands were simple-hearted, inoffensive creatures, who did not know how to fight and who did not want to fight. therefore, it was so easy to sail his ships into the harbors of defenceless islands, to subjugate the natives, and to take away the products of their mines and soil, that he commenced a veritable course of piracy. the acquisition of gold and all sorts of plunder seemed to be the sole object of this spanish expedition; natives were enslaved, and subjected to the greatest hardships, so that they died in great numbers. at one time three hundred of them were sent as slaves to spain. a pack of bloodhounds, which columbus had brought with him for the purpose, was used to hunt down the poor indians when they endeavored to escape from the hands of the oppressors, and in every way the island of hayti, the principal scene of the actions of columbus, was treated as if its inhabitants had committed a dreadful crime by being in possession of the wealth which the spaniards desired for themselves. queen isabella was greatly opposed to these cruel and unjust proceedings. she sent back to their native land the slaves which columbus had shipped to spain, and she gave positive orders that no more of the inhabitants were to be enslaved, and that they were all to be treated with moderation and kindness. but the atlantic is a wide ocean, and columbus, far away from his royal patron, paid little attention to her wishes and commands; without going further into the history of this period, we will simply mention the fact that it was on account of his alleged atrocities that columbus was superseded in his command, and sent back in chains to spain. there was another noted personage of the sixteenth century who played the part of pirate in the new world, and thereby set a most shining example to the buccaneers of those regions. this was no other than sir francis drake, one of england's greatest naval commanders. it is probable that drake, when he started out in life, was a man of very law-abiding and orderly disposition, for he was appointed by queen elizabeth a naval chaplain, and, it is said, though there is some doubt about this, that he was subsequently vicar of a parish. but by nature he was a sailor, and nothing else, and after having made several voyages in which he showed himself a good fighter, as well as a good commander, he undertook, in , an expedition against the spanish settlements in the west indies, for which he had no legal warrant whatever. spain was not at war with england, and when drake sailed with four small ships into the port of the little town of nombre de dios in the middle of the night, the inhabitants of the town were as much astonished as the people of perth amboy would be if four armed vessels were to steam into raritan bay, and endeavor to take possession of the town. the peaceful spanish townspeople were not at war with any civilized nation, and they could not understand why bands of armed men should invade their streets, enter the market-place, fire their calivers, or muskets, into the air, and then sound a trumpet loud enough to wake up everybody in the place. just outside of the town the invaders had left a portion of their men, and when these heard the trumpet in the market-place, they also fired their guns; all this noise and hubbub so frightened the good people of the town, that many of them jumped from their beds, and without stopping to dress, fled away to the mountains. but all the citizens were not such cowards, and fourteen or fifteen of them armed themselves and went out to defend their town from the unknown invaders. beginners in any trade or profession, whether it be the playing of the piano, the painting of pictures, or the pursuit of piracy, are often timid and distrustful of themselves; so it happened on this occasion with francis drake and his men, who were merely amateur pirates, and showed very plainly that they did not yet understand their business. when the fifteen spanish citizens came into the market-place and found there the little body of armed englishmen, they immediately fired upon them, not knowing or caring who they were. this brave resistance seems to have frightened drake and his men almost as much as their trumpets and guns had frightened the citizens, and the english immediately retreated from the town. when they reached the place where they had left the rest of their party, they found that these had already run away, and taken to the boats. consequently drake and his brave men were obliged to take off some of their clothes and to wade out to the little ships. the englishmen secured no booty whatever, and killed only one spaniard, who was a man who had been looking out of a window to see what was the matter. whether or not drake's conscience had anything to do with the bungling manner in which he made this first attempt at piracy, we cannot say, but he soon gave his conscience a holiday, and undertook some very successful robbing enterprises. he received information from some natives, that a train of mules was coming across the isthmus of panama loaded with gold and silver bullion, and guarded only by their drivers; for the merchants who owned all this treasure had no idea that there was any one in that part of the world who would commit a robbery upon them. but drake and his men soon proved that they could hold up a train of mules as easily as some of the masked robbers in our western country hold up a train of cars. all the gold was taken, but the silver was too heavy for the amateur pirates to carry. two days after that, drake and his men came to a place called "the house of crosses," where they killed five or six peaceable merchants, but were greatly disappointed to find no gold, although the house was full of rich merchandise of various kinds. as his men had no means of carrying away heavy goods, he burned up the house and all its contents and went to his ships, and sailed away with the treasure he had already obtained. whatever this gallant ex-chaplain now thought of himself, he was considered by the spaniards as an out-and-out pirate, and in this opinion they were quite correct. during his great voyage around the world, which he began in , he came down upon the spanish-american settlements like a storm from the sea. he attacked towns, carried off treasure, captured merchant-vessels,--and in fact showed himself to be a thoroughbred and accomplished pirate of the first class. it was in consequence of the rich plunder with which his ships were now loaded, that he made his voyage around the world. he was afraid to go back the way he came, for fear of capture, and so, having passed the straits of magellan, and having failed to find a way out of the pacific in the neighborhood of california, he doubled the cape of good hope, and sailed along the western coast of africa to european waters. this grand piratical expedition excited great indignation in spain, which country was still at peace with england, and even in england there were influential people who counselled the queen that it would be wise and prudent to disavow drake's actions, and compel him to restore to spain the booty he had taken from his subjects. but queen elizabeth was not the woman to do that sort of thing. she liked brave men and brave deeds, and she was proud of drake. therefore, instead of punishing him, she honored him, and went to take dinner with him on board his ship, which lay at deptford. so columbus does not stand alone as a grand master of piracy. the famous sir francis drake, who became vice-admiral of the fleet which defeated the spanish armada, was a worthy companion of the great genoese. these notable instances have been mentioned because it would be unjust to take up the history of those resolute traders who sailed from england, france, and holland, to the distant waters of the western world for the purpose of legitimate enterprise and commerce, and who afterwards became thorough-going pirates, without trying to make it clear that they had shining examples for their notable careers. chapter iii pupils in piracy after the discoveries of columbus, the spanish mind seems to have been filled with the idea that the whole undiscovered world, wherever it might be, belonged to spain, and that no other nation had any right whatever to discover anything on the other side of the atlantic, or to make any use whatever of lands which had been discovered. in fact, the natives of the new countries, and the inhabitants of all old countries except her own, were considered by spain as possessing no rights whatever. if the natives refused to pay tribute, or to spend their days toiling for gold for their masters, or if vessels from england or france touched at one of their settlements for purposes of trade, it was all the same to the spaniards; a war of attempted extermination was waged alike against the peaceful inhabitants of hispaniola, now hayti, and upon the bearded and hardy seamen from northern europe. under this treatment the natives weakened and gradually disappeared; but the buccaneers became more and more numerous and powerful. the buccaneers were not unlike that class of men known in our western country as cowboys. young fellows of good families from england and france often determined to embrace a life of adventure, and possibly profit, and sailed out to the west indies to get gold and hides, and to fight spaniards. frequently they dropped their family names and assumed others more suitable to roving freebooters, and, like the bold young fellows who ride over our western plains, driving cattle and shooting indians, they adopted a style of dress as free and easy, but probably not quite so picturesque, as that of the cowboy. they soon became a very rough set of fellows, in appearance as well as action, endeavoring in every way to let the people of the western world understand that they were absolutely free and independent of the manners and customs, as well as of the laws of their native countries. so well was this independence understood, that when the buccaneers became strong enough to inflict some serious injury upon the settlements in the west indies, and the spanish court remonstrated with queen elizabeth on account of what had been done by some of her subjects, she replied that she had nothing to do with these buccaneers, who, although they had been born in england, had ceased for the time to be her subjects, and the spaniards must defend themselves against them just as if they were an independent nation. but it is impossible for men who have been brought up in civilized society, and who have been accustomed to obey laws, to rid themselves entirely of all ideas of propriety and morality, as soon as they begin a life of lawlessness. so it happened that many of the buccaneers could not divest themselves of the notions of good behavior to which they had been accustomed from youth. for instance, we are told of a captain of buccaneers, who, landing at a settlement on a sunday, took his crew to church. as it is not at all probable that any of the buccaneering vessels carried chaplains, opportunities of attending services must have been rare. this captain seems to have wished to show that pirates in church know what they ought to do just as well as other people; it was for this reason that, when one of his men behaved himself in an improper and disorderly manner during the service, this proper-minded captain arose from his seat and shot the offender dead. there was a frenchman of that period who must have been a warm-hearted philanthropist, because, having read accounts of the terrible atrocities of the spaniards in the western lands, he determined to leave his home and his family, and become a buccaneer, in order that he might do what he could for the suffering natives in the spanish possessions. he entered into the great work which he had planned for himself with such enthusiasm and zeal, that in the course of time he came to be known as "the exterminator," and if there had been more people of his philanthropic turn of mind, there would soon have been no inhabitants whatever upon the islands from which the spaniards had driven out the indians. there was another person of that day,--also a frenchman,--who became deeply involved in debt in his own country, and feeling that the principles of honor forbade him to live upon and enjoy what was really the property of others, he made up his mind to sail across the atlantic, and become a buccaneer. he hoped that if he should be successful in his new profession, and should be enabled to rob spaniards for a term of years, he could return to france, pay off all his debts, and afterward live the life of a man of honor and respectability. other ideas which the buccaneers brought with them from their native countries soon showed themselves when these daring sailors began their lives as regular pirates; among these, the idea of organization was very prominent. of course it was hard to get a number of free and untrammelled crews to unite and obey the commands of a few officers. but in time the buccaneers had recognized leaders, and laws were made for concerted action. in consequence of this the buccaneers became a formidable body of men, sometimes superior to the spanish naval and military forces. it must be remembered that the buccaneers lived in a very peculiar age. so far as the history of america is concerned, it might be called the age of blood and gold. in the newly discovered countries there were no laws which european nations or individuals cared to observe. in the west indies and the adjacent mainlands there were gold and silver, and there were also valuable products of other kinds, and when the spaniards sailed to their part of the new world, these treasures were the things for which they came. the natives were weak and not able to defend themselves. all the spaniards had to do was to take what they could find, and when they could not find enough they made the poor indians find it for them. here was a part of the world, and an age of the world, wherein it was the custom for men to do what they pleased, provided they felt themselves strong enough, and it was not to be supposed that any one european nation could expect a monopoly of this state of mind. therefore it was that while the spaniards robbed and ruined the natives of the lands they discovered, the english, french, and dutch buccaneers robbed the robbers. great vessels were sent out from spain, carrying nothing in the way of merchandise to america, but returning with all the precious metals and valuable products of the newly discovered regions, which could in any way be taken from the unfortunate natives. the gold mines of the new world had long been worked, and yielded handsome revenues, but the native method of operating them did not satisfy the spaniards, who forced the poor indians to labor incessantly at the difficult task of digging out the precious metals, until many of them died under the cruel oppression. sometimes the indians were kept six months under ground, working in the mines; and at one time, when it was found that the natives had died off, or had fled from the neighborhood of some of the rich gold deposits, it was proposed to send to africa and get a cargo of negroes to work the mines. now it is easy to see that all this made buccaneering a very tempting occupation. to capture a great treasure ship, after the spaniards had been at so much trouble to load it, was a grand thing, according to the pirate's point of view, and although it often required reckless bravery and almost superhuman energy to accomplish the feats necessary in this dangerous vocation, these were qualities which were possessed by nearly all the sea-robbers of our coast; the stories of some of the most interesting of these wild and desperate fellows,--men who did not combine piracy with discoveries and explorations, but who were out-and-out sea-robbers, and gained in that way all the reputation they ever possessed,--will be told in subsequent chapters. chapter iv peter the great very prominent among the early regular buccaneers was a frenchman who came to be called peter the great. this man seems to have been one of those adventurers who were not buccaneers in the earlier sense of the word (by which i mean they were not traders who touched at spanish settlements to procure cattle and hides, and who were prepared to fight any spaniards who might interfere with them), but they were men who came from europe on purpose to prey upon spanish possessions, whether on land or sea. some of them made a rough sort of settlement on the island of tortuga, and then it was that peter the great seems to have come into prominence. he gathered about him a body of adherents, but although he had a great reputation as an individual pirate, it seems to have been a good while before he achieved any success as a leader. the fortunes of peter and his men must have been at a pretty low ebb when they found themselves cruising in a large, canoe-shaped boat not far from the island of hispaniola. there were twenty-nine of them in all, and they were not able to procure a vessel suitable for their purpose. they had been a long time floating about in an aimless way, hoping to see some spanish merchant-vessel which they might attack and possibly capture, but no such vessel appeared. their provisions began to give out, the men were hungry, discontented, and grumbling. in fact, they were in almost as bad a condition as were the sailors of columbus just before they discovered signs of land, after their long and weary voyage across the atlantic. when peter and his men were almost on the point of despair, they perceived, far away upon the still waters, a large ship. with a great jump, hope sprang up in the breast of every man. they seized the oars and pulled in the direction of the distant craft. but when they were near enough, they saw that the vessel was not a merchantman, probably piled with gold and treasure, but a man-of-war belonging to the spanish fleet. in fact, it was the vessel of the vice-admiral. this was an astonishing and disheartening state of things. it was very much as if a lion, hearing the approach of probable prey, had sprung from the thicket where he had been concealed, and had beheld before him, not a fine, fat deer, but an immense and scrawny elephant. but the twenty-nine buccaneers in the crew were very hungry. they had not come out upon those waters to attack men-of-war, but, more than that, they had not come out to perish by hunger and thirst. there could be no doubt that there was plenty to eat and to drink on that tall spanish vessel, and if they could not get food and water they could not live more than a day or two longer. under the circumstances it was not long before peter the great made up his mind that if his men would stand by him, he would endeavor to capture that spanish war-vessel; when he put the question to his crew they all swore that they would follow him and obey his orders as long as life was left in their bodies. to attack a vessel armed with cannon, and manned by a crew very much larger than their little party, seemed almost like throwing themselves upon certain death. but still, there was a chance that in some way they might get the better of the spaniards; whereas, if they rowed away again into the solitudes of the ocean, they would give up all chance of saving themselves from death by starvation. steadily, therefore, they pulled toward the spanish vessel, and slowly--for there was but little wind--she approached them. the people in the man-of-war did not fail to perceive the little boat far out on the ocean, and some of them sent to the captain and reported the fact. the news, however, did not interest him, for he was engaged in playing cards in his cabin, and it was not until an hour afterward that he consented to come on deck and look out toward the boat which had been sighted, and which was now much nearer. taking a good look at the boat, and perceiving that it was nothing more than a canoe, the captain laughed at the advice of some of his officers, who thought it would be well to fire a few cannon-shot and sink the little craft. the captain thought it would be a useless proceeding. he did not know anything about the people in the boat, and he did not very much care, but he remarked that if they should come near enough, it might be a good thing to put out some tackle and haul them and their boat on deck, after which they might be examined and questioned whenever it should suit his convenience. then he went down to his cards. if peter the great and his men could have been sure that if they were to row alongside the spanish vessel they would have been quietly hauled on deck and examined, they would have been delighted at the opportunity. with cutlasses, pistols, and knives, they were more than ready to demonstrate to the spaniards what sort of fellows they were, and the captain would have found hungry pirates uncomfortable persons to question. but it seemed to peter and his crew a very difficult thing indeed to get themselves on board the man-of-war, so they curbed their ardor and enthusiasm, and waited until nightfall before approaching nearer. as soon as it became dark enough they slowly and quietly paddled toward the great ship, which was now almost becalmed. there were no lights in the boat, and the people on the deck of the vessel saw and heard nothing on the dark waters around them. when they were very near the man-of-war, the captain of the buccaneers--according to the ancient accounts of this adventure--ordered his chirurgeon, or surgeon, to bore a large hole in the bottom of their canoe. it is probable that this officer, with his saws and other surgical instruments, was expected to do carpenter work when there were no duties for him to perform in the regular line of his profession. at any rate, he went to work, and noiselessly bored the hole. this remarkable proceeding showed the desperate character of these pirates. a great, almost impossible task was before them, and nothing but absolute recklessness could enable them to succeed. if his men should meet with strong opposition from the spaniards in the proposed attack, and if any of them should become frightened and try to retreat to the boat, peter knew that all would be lost, and consequently he determined to make it impossible for any man to get away in that boat. if they could not conquer the spanish vessel they must die on her decks. when the half-sunken canoe touched the sides of the vessel, the pirates, seizing every rope or projection on which they could lay their hands, climbed up the sides of the man-of-war, as if they had been twenty-nine cats, and springing over the rail, dashed upon the sailors who were on deck. these men were utterly stupefied and astounded. they had seen nothing, they had heard nothing, and all of a sudden they were confronted with savage fellows with cutlasses and pistols. some of the crew looked over the sides to see where these strange visitors had come from, but they saw nothing, for the canoe had gone to the bottom. then they were filled with a superstitious horror, believing that the wild visitors were devils who had dropped from the sky, for there seemed no other place from which they could come. making no attempt to defend themselves, the sailors, wild with terror, tumbled below and hid themselves, without even giving an alarm. the spanish captain was still playing cards, and whether he was winning or losing, the old historians do not tell us, but very suddenly a newcomer took a hand in the game. this was peter the great, and he played the ace of trumps. with a great pistol in his hand, he called upon the spanish captain to surrender. that noble commander glanced around. there was a savage pirate holding a pistol at the head of each of the officers at the table. he threw up his cards. the trick was won by peter and his men. the rest of the game was easy enough. when the pirates spread themselves over the vessel, the frightened crew got out of sight as well as they could. some, who attempted to seize their arms in order to defend themselves, were ruthlessly cut down or shot, and when the hatches had been securely fastened upon the sailors who had fled below, peter the great was captain and owner of that tall spanish man-of-war. it is quite certain that the first thing these pirates did to celebrate their victory was to eat a rousing good supper, and then they took charge of the vessel, and sailed her triumphantly over the waters on which, not many hours before, they had feared that a little boat would soon be floating, filled with their emaciated bodies. this most remarkable success of peter the great worked a great change, of course, in the circumstances of himself and his men. but it worked a greater change in the career, and possibly in the character of the captain. he was now a very rich man, and all his followers had plenty of money. the spanish vessel was amply supplied with provisions, and there was also on board a great quantity of gold bullion, which was to be shipped to spain. in fact, peter and his men had booty enough to satisfy any sensible pirate. now we all know that sensible pirates, and people in any sphere of life who are satisfied when they have enough, are very rare indeed, and therefore it is not a little surprising that the bold buccaneer, whose story we are now telling, should have proved that he merited, in a certain way, the title his companions had given him. sailing his prize to the shores of hispaniola, peter put on shore all the spaniards whose services he did not desire. the rest of his prisoners he compelled to help his men work the ship, and then, without delay, he sailed away to france, and there he retired entirely from the business of piracy, and set himself up as a gentleman of wealth and leisure. chapter v the story of a pearl pirate the ordinary story of the pirate, or the wicked man in general, no matter how successful he may have been in his criminal career, nearly always ends disastrously, and in that way points a moral which doubtless has a good effect on a large class of people, who would be very glad to do wrong, provided no harm was likely to come to them in consequence. but the story of peter the great, which we have just told, contains no such moral. in fact, its influence upon the adventurers of that period was most unwholesome. when the wonderful success of peter the great became known, the buccaneering community at tortuga was wildly excited. every bushy-bearded fellow who could get possession of a small boat, and induce a score of other bushy-bearded fellows to follow him, wanted to start out and capture a rich spanish galleon, as the great ships, used alike for war and commerce, were then called. but not only were the french and english sailors and traders who had become buccaneers excited and stimulated by the remarkable good fortune of their companion, but many people of adventurous mind, who had never thought of leaving england for purposes of piracy, now became firmly convinced that there was no business which promised better than that of a buccaneer, and some of them crossed the ocean for the express purpose of getting rich by capturing spanish vessels homeward bound. as there were not enough suitable vessels in tortuga for the demands of the recently stimulated industry, the buccaneer settlers went to other parts of the west indies to obtain suitable craft, and it is related that in about a month after the great victory of peter the great, two large spanish vessels, loaded with silver bullion, and two other heavily laden merchantmen were brought into tortuga by the buccaneers. one of the adventurers who set out about this time on a cruise after gold-laden vessels, was a frenchman who was known to his countrymen as pierre françois, and to the english as peter francis. he was a good sailor, and ready for any sort of a sea-fight, but for a long time he cruised about without seeing anything which it was worth while to attempt to capture. at last, when his provisions began to give out, and his men became somewhat discontented, pierre made up his mind that rather than return to tortuga empty-handed, he would make a bold and novel stroke for fortune. at the mouth of one of the large rivers of the mainland the spaniards had established a pearl fishery,--for there was no kind of wealth or treasure, on the land, under ground, or at the bottom of the sea, that the spaniards did not get if it were possible for them to do so. every year, at the proper season, a dozen or more vessels came to this pearl-bank, attended by a man-of-war to protect them from molestation. pierre knew all about this, and as he could not find any spanish merchantmen to rob, he thought he would go down and see what he could do with the pearl-fishers. this was something the buccaneers had not yet attempted, but no one knows what he can do until he tries, and it was very necessary that this buccaneer captain should try something immediately. when he reached the coast near the mouth of the river, he took the masts out of his little vessel, and rowed quietly toward the pearl-fishing fleet, as if he had intended to join them on some entirely peaceable errand; and, in fact, there was no reason whatever why the spaniards should suppose that a boat full of buccaneers should be rowing along that part of the coast. the pearl-fishing vessels were all at anchor, and the people on board were quietly attending to their business. out at sea, some distance from the mouth of the river, the man-of-war was lying becalmed. the native divers who went down to the bottom of the sea to bring up the shellfish which contained the pearls, plunged into the water, and came up wet and shining in the sun, with no fear whatever of any sharks which might be swimming about in search of a dinner, and the people on the vessels opened the oysters and carefully searched for pearls, feeling as safe from harm as if they were picking olives in their native groves. but something worse than a shark was quietly making its way over those tranquil waters, and no banditti who ever descended from spanish mountains upon the quiet peasants of a village, equalled in ferocity the savage fellows who were crouching in the little boat belonging to pierre of tortuga. this innocent-looking craft, which the pearl-fishers probably thought was loaded with fruit or vegetables which somebody from the mainland desired to sell, was permitted, without being challenged or interfered with, to row up alongside the largest vessel of the fleet, on which there were some armed men and a few cannon. as soon as pierre's boat touched the spanish vessel, the buccaneers sprang on board with their pistols and cutlasses, and a savage fight began. the spaniards were surprised, but there were a great many more of them than there were pirates, and they fought hard. however, the man who makes the attack, and who is at the same time desperate and hungry, has a great advantage, and it was not long before the buccaneers were masters of the vessel. those of the spaniards who were not killed, were forced into the service of their captors, and pierre found himself in command of a very good vessel. now it so happened that the man-of-war was so far away that she knew nothing of this fight on board one of the fleet which she was there to watch, and if she had known of it, she would not have been able to give any assistance, for there was no wind by which she could sail to the mouth of the river. therefore, so far as she was concerned, pierre considered himself safe. but although he had captured a spanish ship, he was not so foolish as to haul down her flag, and run up his own in her place. he had had very good success so far, but he was not satisfied. it was quite probable that there was a rich store of pearls on board the vessel he had taken, but on the other vessels of the fleet there were many more pearls, and these he wanted if he could get them. in fact, he conceived the grand idea of capturing the whole fleet. but it would be impossible for pierre to attempt anything on such a magnificent scale until he had first disposed of the man-of-war, and as he had now a good strong ship, with a much larger crew than that with which he had set out,--for the spanish prisoners would be obliged to man the guns and help in every way to fight their countrymen,--pierre determined to attack the man-of-war. a land wind began to blow, which enabled him to make very fair headway out to sea. the spanish colors were flying from his topmast, and he hoped to be able, without being suspected of any evil designs, to get so near to the man-of-war that he might run alongside and boldly board her. but something now happened which pierre could not have expected. when the commander of the war-vessel perceived that one of the fleet under his charge was leaving her companions and putting out to sea, he could imagine no reason for such extraordinary conduct, except that she was taking advantage of the fact that the wind had not yet reached his vessel, and was trying to run away with the pearls she had on board. from these ready suspicions we may imagine that, at that time, the robbers who robbed robbers were not all buccaneers. soon after the spanish captain perceived that one of his fleet was making his way out of the river, the wind reached his vessel, and he immediately set all sail and started in pursuit of the rascals, whom he supposed to be his dishonest countrymen. the breeze freshened rapidly, and when pierre and his men saw that the man-of-war was coming toward them at a good rate of speed, showing plainly that she had suspicions of them, they gave up all hope of running alongside of her and boarding her, and concluded that the best thing they could do would be to give up their plan of capturing the pearl-fishing fleet, and get away with the ship they had taken, and whatever it had on board. so they set all sail, and there was a fine sea-chase. the now frightened buccaneers were too anxious to get away. they not only put on all the sail which the vessel could carry, but they put on more. the wind blew harder, and suddenly down came the mainmast with a crash. this stopped the chase, and the next act in the performance would have to be a sea-fight. pierre and his buccaneers were good at that sort of thing, and when the man-of-war came up, there was a terrible time on board those two vessels. but the spaniards were the stronger, and the buccaneers were defeated. there must have been something in the daring courage of this frenchman and his little band of followers, which gave him favor in the eyes of the spanish captain, for there was no other reason for the good treatment which the buccaneers received. they were not put to the sword nor thrown overboard, not sent on shore and made to work as slaves,--three very common methods of treating prisoners in those days. but they were all set free, and put on land, where they might go where they pleased. this unfortunate result of the bold enterprise undertaken by pierre françois was deeply deplored, not only at tortuga, but in england and in france. if this bold buccaneer had captured the pearl fleet, it would have been a victory that would have made a hero of him on each side of the atlantic, but had he even been able to get away with the one vessel he had seized, he would have been a rich man, and might have retired to a life of ease and affluence; the vessel he had captured proved to be one of the richest laden of the whole fleet, and not only in the heart of pierre and his men, but among his sympathizers in europe and america, there was great disappointment at the loss of that mainmast, which, until it cracked, was carrying him forward to fame and fortune. chapter vi the surprising adventures of bartholemy portuguez as we have seen that the buccaneers were mainly english, french, and dutch sailors, who were united to make a common piratical warfare upon the spaniards in the west indies, it may seem a little strange to find a man from portugal who seemed to be on the wrong side of this peculiar fight which was going on in the new world between the sailors of northern and southern europe. but although portugal is such a close neighbor of spain, the two countries have often been at war with each other, and their interests are by no means the same. the only advantage that portugal could expect from the newly discovered treasures of the west were those which her seafaring men, acting with the seafaring men of other nations, should wrest from spanish vessels homeward bound. consequently, there were portuguese among the pirates of those days. among these was a man named bartholemy portuguez, a famous _flibustier_. it may be here remarked that the name of buccaneer was chiefly affected by the english adventurers on our coast, while the french members of the profession often preferred the name of "flibustier." this word, which has since been corrupted into our familiar "filibuster," is said to have been originally a corruption, being nothing more than the french method of pronouncing the word "freebooters," which title had long been used for independent robbers. thus, although bartholemy called himself a flibustier, he was really a buccaneer, and his name came to be known all over the caribbean sea. from the accounts we have of him it appears that he did not start out on his career of piracy as a poor man. he had some capital to invest in the business, and when he went over to the west indies he took with him a small ship, armed with four small cannon, and manned by a crew of picked men, many of them no doubt professional robbers, and the others anxious for practice in this most alluring vocation, for the gold fields of california were never more attractive to the bold and hardy adventurers of our country, than were the gold fields of the sea to the buccaneers and flibustiers of the seventeenth century. when bartholemy reached the caribbean sea he probably first touched at tortuga, the pirates' headquarters, and then sailed out very much as if he had been a fisherman going forth to see what he could catch on the sea. he cruised about on the track generally taken by treasure ships going from the mainland to the havanas, or the island of hispaniola, and when at last he sighted a vessel in the distance, it was not long before he and his men had made up their minds that if they were to have any sport that day it would be with what might be called most decidedly a game fish, for the ship slowly sailing toward them was a large spanish vessel, and from her portholes there protruded the muzzles of at least twenty cannon. of course, they knew that such a vessel would have a much larger crew than their own, and, altogether, bartholemy was very much in the position of a man who should go out to harpoon a sturgeon, and who should find himself confronted by a vicious swordfish. the spanish merchantmen of that day were generally well armed, for getting home safely across the atlantic was often the most difficult part of the treasure-seeking. there were many of these ships, which, although they did not belong to the spanish navy, might almost be designated as men-of-war; and it was one of these with which our flibustier had now met. but pirates and fishermen cannot afford to pick and choose. they must take what comes to them and make the best of it, and this is exactly the way in which the matter presented itself to bartholemy and his men. they held one of their councils around the mast, and after an address from their leader, they decided that come what may, they must attack that spanish vessel. so the little pirate sailed boldly toward the big spaniard, and the latter vessel, utterly astonished at the audacity of this attack,--for the pirates' flag was flying,--lay to, head to the wind, and waited, the gunners standing by their cannon. when the pirates had come near enough to see and understand the size and power of the vessel they had thought of attacking, they did not, as might have been expected, put about and sail away at the best of their vessel's speed, but they kept straight on their course as if they had been about to fall upon a great, unwieldy merchantman, manned by common sailors. perceiving the foolhardiness of the little vessel, the spanish commander determined to give it a lesson which would teach its captain to understand better the relative power of great vessels and little ones, so, as soon as the pirates' vessel was near enough, he ordered a broadside fired upon it. the spanish ship had a great many people on board. it had a crew of seventy men, and besides these there were some passengers, and regular marines, and knowing that the captain had determined to fire upon the approaching vessel, everybody had gathered on deck to see the little pirate ship go down. but the ten great cannon-balls which were shot out at bartholemy's little craft all missed their aim, and before the guns could be reloaded or the great ship be got around so as to deliver her other broadside, the pirate vessel was alongside of her. bartholemy had fired none of his cannon. such guns were useless against so huge a foe. what he was after was a hand-to-hand combat on the deck of the spanish ship. the pirates were all ready for hot work. they had thrown aside their coats and shirts as if each of them were going into a prize fight, and, with their cutlasses in their hands, and their pistols and knives in their belts, they scrambled like monkeys up the sides of the great ship. but spaniards are brave men and good fighters, and there were more than twice as many of them as there were of the pirates, and it was not long before the latter found out that they could not capture that vessel by boarding it. so over the side they tumbled as fast as they could go, leaving some of their number dead and wounded behind them. they jumped into their own vessel, and then they put off to a short distance to take breath and get ready for a different kind of a fight. the triumphant spaniards now prepared to get rid of this boat load of half-naked wild beasts, which they could easily do if they should take better aim with their cannon than they had done before. but to their amazement they soon found that they could do nothing with the guns, nor were they able to work their ship so as to get it into position for effectual shots. bartholemy and his men laid aside their cutlasses and their pistols, and took up their muskets, with which they were well provided. their vessel lay within a very short range of the spanish ship, and whenever a man could be seen through the portholes, or showed himself in the rigging or anywhere else where it was necessary to go in order to work the ship, he made himself a target for the good aim of the pirates. the pirate vessel could move about as it pleased, for it required but a few men to manage it, and so it kept out of the way of the spanish guns, and its best marksmen, crouching close to the deck, fired and fired whenever a spanish head was to be seen. for five long hours this unequal contest was kept up. it might have reminded one of a man with a slender rod and a long, delicate line, who had hooked a big salmon. the man could not pull in the salmon, but, on the other hand, the salmon could not hurt the man, and in the course of time the big fish would be tired out, and the man would get out his landing-net and scoop him in. now bartholemy thought he could scoop in the spanish vessel. so many of her men had been shot that the two crews would be more nearly equal. so, boldly, he ran his vessel alongside the big ship and again boarded her. now there was another great fight on the decks. the spaniards had ceased to be triumphant, but they had become desperate, and in the furious combat ten of the pirates were killed and four wounded. but the spaniards fared worse than that; more than half of the men who had not been shot by the pirates went down before their cutlasses and pistols, and it was not long before bartholemy had captured the great spanish ship. it was a fearful and a bloody victory he had gained. a great part of his own men were lying dead or helpless on the deck, and of the spaniards only forty were left alive, and these, it appears from the accounts, must have been nearly all wounded or disabled. it was a common habit among the buccaneers, as well as among the spaniards, to kill all prisoners who were not able to work for them, but bartholemy does not seem to have arrived at the stage of depravity necessary for this. so he determined not to kill his prisoners, but he put them all into a boat and let them go where they pleased; while he was left with fifteen men to work a great vessel which required a crew of five times that number. but the men who could conquer and capture a ship against such enormous odds, felt themselves fully capable of working her, even with their little crew. before doing anything in the way of navigation they cleared the decks of the dead bodies, taking from them all watches, trinkets, and money, and then went below to see what sort of a prize they had gained. they found it a very good one indeed. there were seventy-five thousand crowns in money, besides a cargo of cocoa worth five thousand more, and this, combined with the value of the ship and all its fittings, was a great fortune for those days. when the victorious pirates had counted their gains and had mended the sails and rigging of their new ship, they took what they wanted out of their own vessel, and left her to sink or to float as she pleased, and then they sailed away in the direction of the island of jamaica. but the winds did not suit them, and, as their crew was so very small, they could not take advantage of light breezes as they could have done if they had had men enough. consequently they were obliged to stop to get water before they reached the friendly vicinity of jamaica. they cast anchor at cape st. anthony on the west end of cuba. after a considerable delay at this place they started out again to resume their voyage, but it was not long before they perceived, to their horror, three spanish vessels coming towards them. it was impossible for a very large ship, manned by an extremely small crew, to sail away from those fully equipped vessels, and as to attempting to defend themselves against the overwhelming power of the antagonists, that was too absurd to be thought of even by such a reckless fellow as bartholemy. so, when the ship was hailed by the spanish vessels he lay to and waited until a boat's crew boarded him. with the eye of a nautical man the spanish captain of one of the ships perceived that something was the matter with this vessel, for its sails and rigging were terribly cut up in the long fight through which it had passed, and of course he wanted to know what had happened. when he found that the great ship was in the possession of a very small body of pirates, bartholemy and his men were immediately made prisoners, taken on board the spanish ship, stripped of everything they possessed, even their clothes, and shut up in the hold. a crew from the spanish ships was sent to man the vessel which had been captured, and then the little fleet set sail for san francisco in campeachy. an hour had worked a very great change in the fortunes of bartholemy and his men; in the fine cabin of their grand prize they had feasted and sung, and had gloried over their wonderful success, and now, in the vessel of their captor, they were shut up in the dark, to be enslaved or perhaps executed. but it is not likely that any one of them either despaired or repented; these are sentiments very little in use by pirates. chapter vii the pirate who could not swim when the little fleet of spanish vessels, including the one which had been captured by bartholemy portuguez and his men, were on their way to campeachy, they met with very stormy weather so that they were separated, and the ship which contained bartholemy and his companions arrived first at the port for which they were bound. the captain, who had bartholemy and the others in charge, did not know what an important capture he had made; he supposed that these pirates were ordinary buccaneers, and it appears that it was his intention to keep them as his own private prisoners, for, as they were all very able-bodied men, they would be extremely useful on a ship. but when his vessel was safely moored, and it became known in the town that he had a company of pirates on board, a great many people came from shore to see these savage men, who were probably looked upon very much as if they were a menagerie of wild beasts brought from foreign lands. among the sightseers who came to the ship was a merchant of the town who had seen bartholemy before, and who had heard of his various exploits. he therefore went to the captain of the vessel and informed him that he had on board one of the very worst pirates in the whole world, whose wicked deeds were well known in various parts of the west indies, and who ought immediately to be delivered up to the civil authorities. this proposal, however, met with no favor from the spanish captain, who had found bartholemy a very quiet man, and could see that he was a very strong one, and he did not at all desire to give up such a valuable addition to his crew. but the merchant grew very angry, for he knew that bartholemy had inflicted great injury on spanish commerce, and as the captain would not listen to him, he went to the governor of the town and reported the case. when this dignitary heard the story he immediately sent a party of officers to the ship, and commanded the captain to deliver the pirate leader into their charge. the other men were left where they were, but bartholemy was taken away and confined in another ship. the merchant, who seemed to know a great deal about him, informed the authorities that this terrible pirate had been captured several times, but that he had always managed to escape, and, therefore, he was put in irons, and preparations were made to execute him on the next day; for, from what he had heard, the governor considered that this pirate was no better than a wild beast, and that he should be put to death without even the formality of a trial. but there was a spanish soldier on board the ship who seemed to have had some pity, or perhaps some admiration, for the daring pirate, and he thought that if he were to be hung the next day it was no more than right to let him know it, so that when he went in to take some food to bartholemy he told him what was to happen. now this pirate captain was a man who always wanted to have a share in what was to happen, and he immediately racked his brain to find out what he could do in this case. he had never been in a more desperate situation, but he did not lose heart, and immediately set to work to free himself from his irons, which were probably very clumsy affairs. at last, caring little how much he scratched and tore his skin, he succeeded in getting rid of his fetters, and could move about as freely as a tiger in a cage. to get out of this cage was bartholemy's first object. it would be comparatively easy, because in the course of time some one would come into the hold, and the athletic buccaneer thought that he could easily get the better of whoever might open the hatch. but the next act in this truly melodramatic performance would be a great deal more difficult; for in order to escape from the ship it would be absolutely necessary for bartholemy to swim to shore, and he did not know how to swim, which seems a strange failing in a hardy sailor with so many other nautical accomplishments. in the rough hold where he was shut up, our pirate, peering about, anxious and earnest, discovered two large, earthen jars in which wine had been brought from spain, and with these he determined to make a sort of life-preserver. he found some pieces of oiled cloth, which he tied tightly over the open mouths of the jars and fastened them with cords. he was satisfied that this unwieldy contrivance would support him in the water. among other things he had found in his rummagings about the hold was an old knife, and with this in his hand he now sat waiting for a good opportunity to attack his sentinel. this came soon after nightfall. a man descended with a lantern to see that the prisoner was still secure,--let us hope that it was not the soldier who had kindly informed him of his fate,--and as soon as he was fairly in the hold bartholemy sprang upon him. there was a fierce struggle, but the pirate was quick and powerful, and the sentinel was soon dead. then, carrying his two jars, bartholemy climbed swiftly and noiselessly up the short ladder, came out on deck in the darkness, made a rush toward the side of the ship, and leaped overboard. for a moment he sank below the surface, but the two air-tight jars quickly rose and bore him up with them. there was a bustle on board the ship, there was some random firing of muskets in the direction of the splashing which the watch had heard, but none of the balls struck the pirate or his jars, and he soon floated out of sight and hearing. kicking out with his legs, and paddling as well as he could with one hand while he held on to the jars with the other, he at last managed to reach the land, and ran as fast as he could into the dark woods beyond the town. bartholemy was now greatly in fear that, when his escape was discovered, he would be tracked by bloodhounds,--for these dogs were much used by the spaniards in pursuing escaping slaves or prisoners,--and he therefore did not feel safe in immediately making his way along the coast, which was what he wished to do. if the hounds should get upon his trail, he was a lost man. the desperate pirate, therefore, determined to give the bloodhounds no chance to follow him, and for three days he remained in a marshy forest, in the dark recesses of which he could hide, and where the water, which covered the ground, prevented the dogs from following his scent. he had nothing to eat except a few roots of water-plants, but he was accustomed to privation, and these kept him alive. often he heard the hounds baying on the dry land adjoining the marsh, and sometimes he saw at night distant torches, which he was sure were carried by men who were hunting for him. but at last the pursuit seemed to be given up; and hearing no more dogs and seeing no more flickering lights, bartholemy left the marsh and set out on his long journey down the coast. the place he wished to reach was called golpho triste, which was forty leagues away, but where he had reason to suppose he would find some friends. when he came out from among the trees, he mounted a small hill and looked back upon the town. the public square was lighted, and there in the middle of it he saw the gallows which had been erected for his execution, and this sight, doubtless, animated him very much during the first part of his journey. the terrible trials and hardships which bartholemy experienced during his tramp along the coast were such as could have been endured only by one of the strongest and toughest of men. he had found in the marsh an old gourd, or calabash, which he had filled with fresh water,--for he could expect nothing but sea-water during his journey,--and as for solid food he had nothing but the raw shellfish which he found upon the rocks; but after a diet of roots, shellfish must have been a very agreeable change, and they gave him all the strength and vigor he needed. very often he found streams and inlets which he was obliged to ford, and as he could see that they were always filled with alligators, the passage of them was not very pleasant. his method of getting across one of these narrow streams, was to hurl rocks into the water until he had frightened away the alligators immediately in front of him, and then, when he had made for himself what seemed to be a free passage, he would dash in and hurry across. at other times great forests stretched down to the very coast, and through these he was obliged to make his way, although he could hear the roars and screams of wild beasts all about him. any one who is afraid to go down into a dark cellar to get some apples from a barrel at the foot of the stairs, can have no idea of the sort of mind possessed by bartholemy portuguez. the animals might howl around him and glare at him with their shining eyes, and the alligators might lash the water into foam with their great tails, but he was bound for golpho triste and was not to be stopped on his way by anything alive. but at last he came to something not alive, which seemed to be an obstacle which would certainly get the better of him. this was a wide river, flowing through the inland country into the sea. he made his way up the shore of this river for a considerable distance, but it grew but little narrower, and he could see no chance of getting across. he could not swim and he had no wine-jars now with which to buoy himself up, and if he had been able to swim he would probably have been eaten up by alligators soon after he left the shore. but a man in his situation would not be likely to give up readily; he had done so much that he was ready to do more if he could only find out what to do. now a piece of good fortune happened to him, although to an ordinary traveller it might have been considered a matter of no importance whatever. on the edge of the shore, where it had floated down from some region higher up the river, bartholemy perceived an old board, in which there were some long and heavy rusty nails. greatly encouraged by this discovery the indefatigable traveller set about a work which resembled that of the old woman who wanted a needle, and who began to rub a crow-bar on a stone in order to reduce it to the proper size. bartholemy carefully knocked all the nails out of the board, and then finding a large flat stone, he rubbed down one of them until he had formed it into the shape of a rude knife blade, which he made as sharp as he could. then with these tools he undertook the construction of a raft, working away like a beaver, and using the sharpened nails instead of his teeth. he cut down a number of small trees, and when he had enough of these slender trunks he bound them together with reeds and osiers, which he found on the river bank. so, after infinite labor and trial he constructed a raft which would bear him on the surface of the water. when he had launched this he got upon it, gathering up his legs so as to keep out of reach of the alligators, and with a long pole pushed himself off from shore. sometimes paddling and sometimes pushing his pole against the bottom, he at last got across the river and took up his journey upon dry land. but our pirate had not progressed very far upon the other side of the river before he met with a new difficulty of a very formidable character. this was a great forest of mangrove trees, which grow in muddy and watery places and which have many roots, some coming down from the branches, and some extending themselves in a hopeless tangle in the water and mud. it would have been impossible for even a stork to walk through this forest, but as there was no way of getting around it bartholemy determined to go through it, even if he could not walk. no athlete of the present day, no matter if he should be a most accomplished circus-man, could reasonably expect to perform the feat which this bold pirate successfully accomplished. for five or six leagues he went through that mangrove forest, never once setting his foot upon the ground,--by which is meant mud, water, and roots,--but swinging himself by his hands and arms, from branch to branch, as if he had been a great ape, only resting occasionally, drawing himself upon a stout limb where he might sit for a while and get his breath. if he had slipped while he was swinging from one limb to another and had gone down into the mire and roots beneath him, it is likely that he would never have been able to get out alive. but he made no slips. he might not have had the agility and grace of a trapeze performer, but his grasp was powerful and his arms were strong, and so he swung and clutched, and clutched and swung, until he had gone entirely through the forest and had come out on the open coast. chapter viii how bartholemy rested himself it was full two weeks from the time that bartholemy began his most adventurous and difficult journey before he reached the little town of golpho triste, where, as he had hoped, he found some of his buccaneer friends. now that his hardships and dangers were over, and when, instead of roots and shellfish, he could sit down to good, plentiful meals, and stretch himself upon a comfortable bed, it might have been supposed that bartholemy would have given himself a long rest, but this hardy pirate had no desire for a vacation at this time. instead of being worn out and exhausted by his amazing exertions and semi-starvation, he arrived among his friends vigorous and energetic and exceedingly anxious to recommence business as soon as possible. he told them of all that had happened to him, what wonderful good fortune had come to him, and what terrible bad fortune had quickly followed it, and when he had related his adventures and his dangers he astonished even his piratical friends by asking them to furnish him with a small vessel and about twenty men, in order that he might go back and revenge himself, not only for what had happened to him, but for what would have happened if he had not taken his affairs into his own hands. to do daring and astounding deeds is part of the business of a pirate, and although it was an uncommonly bold enterprise that bartholemy contemplated, he got his vessel and he got his men, and away he sailed. after a voyage of about eight days he came in sight of the little seaport town, and sailing slowly along the coast, he waited until nightfall before entering the harbor. anchored at a considerable distance from shore was the great spanish ship on which he had been a prisoner, and from which he would have been taken and hung in the public square; the sight of the vessel filled his soul with a savage fury known only to pirates and bull dogs. as the little vessel slowly approached the great ship, the people on board the latter thought it was a trading-vessel from shore, and allowed it to come alongside, such small craft seldom coming from the sea. but the moment bartholemy reached the ship he scrambled up its side almost as rapidly as he had jumped down from it with his two wine-jars a few weeks before, and every one of his crew, leaving their own vessel to take care of itself, scrambled up after him. nobody on board was prepared to defend the ship. it was the same old story; resting quietly in a peaceful harbor, what danger had they to expect? as usual the pirates had everything their own way; they were ready to fight, and the others were not, and they were led by a man who was determined to take that ship without giving even a thought to the ordinary alternative of dying in the attempt. the affair was more of a massacre than a combat, and there were people on board who did not know what was taking place until the vessel had been captured. as soon as bartholemy was master of the great vessel he gave orders to slip the cable and hoist the sails, for he was anxious to get out of that harbor as quickly as possible. the fight had apparently attracted no attention in the town, but there were ships in the port whose company the bold buccaneer did not at all desire, and as soon as possible he got his grand prize under way and went sailing out of the port. now, indeed, was bartholemy triumphant; the ship he had captured was a finer one and a richer one than that other vessel which had been taken from him. it was loaded with valuable merchandise, and we may here remark that for some reason or other all spanish vessels of that day which were so unfortunate as to be taken by pirates, seemed to be richly laden. if our bold pirate had sung wild pirate songs, as he passed the flowing bowl while carousing with his crew in the cabin of the spanish vessel he had first captured, he now sang wilder songs, and passed more flowing bowls, for this prize was a much greater one than the first. if bartholemy could have communicated his great good fortune to the other buccaneers in the west indies, there would have been a boom in piracy which would have threatened great danger to the honesty and integrity of the seafaring men of that region. but nobody, not even a pirate, has any way of finding out what is going to happen next, and if bartholemy had had an idea of the fluctuations which were about to occur in the market in which he had made his investments he would have been in a great hurry to sell all his stock very much below par. the fluctuations referred to occurred on the ocean, near the island of pinos, and came in the shape of great storm waves, which blew the spanish vessel with all its rich cargo, and its triumphant pirate crew, high up upon the cruel rocks, and wrecked it absolutely and utterly. bartholemy and his men barely managed to get into a little boat, and row themselves away. all the wealth and treasure which had come to them with the capture of the spanish vessel, all the power which the possession of that vessel gave them, and all the wild joy which came to them with riches and power, were lost to them in as short a space of time as it had taken to gain them. in the way of well-defined and conspicuous ups and downs, few lives surpassed that of bartholemy portuguez. but after this he seems, in the language of the old english song, "all in the downs." he had many adventures after the desperate affair in the bay of campeachy, but they must all have turned out badly for him, and, consequently, very well, it is probable, for divers and sundry spanish vessels, and, for the rest of his life, he bore the reputation of an unfortunate pirate. he was one of those men whose success seemed to have depended entirely upon his own exertions. if there happened to be the least chance of his doing anything, he generally did it; spanish cannon, well-armed spanish crews, manacles, imprisonment, the dangers of the ocean to a man who could not swim, bloodhounds, alligators, wild beasts, awful forests impenetrable to common men, all these were bravely met and triumphed over by bartholemy. but when he came to ordinary good fortune, such as any pirate might expect, bartholemy the portuguese found that he had no chance at all. but he was not a common pirate, and was, therefore, obliged to be content with his uncommon career. he eventually settled in the island of jamaica, but nobody knows what became of him. if it so happened that he found himself obliged to make his living by some simple industry, such as the selling of fruit upon a street corner, it is likely he never disposed of a banana or an orange unless he jumped at the throat of a passer-by and compelled him to purchase. as for sitting still and waiting for customers to come to him, such a man as bartholemy would not be likely to do anything so commonplace. chapter ix a pirate author in the days which we are considering there were all sorts of pirates, some of whom gained much reputation in one way and some in another, but there was one of them who had a disposition different from that of any of his fellows. he was a regular pirate, but it is not likely that he ever did much fighting, for, as he took great pride in the brave deeds of the brethren of the coast, he would have been sure to tell us of his own if he had ever performed any. he was a mild-mannered man, and, although he was a pirate, he eventually laid aside the pistol, the musket, and the cutlass, and took up the pen,--a very uncommon weapon for a buccaneer. this man was john esquemeling, supposed by some to be a dutchman, and by others a native of france. he sailed to the west indies in the year , in the service of the french west india company. he went out as a peaceable merchant clerk, and had no more idea of becoming a pirate than he had of going into literature, although he finally did both. at that time the french west india company had a colonial establishment on the island of tortuga, which was principally inhabited, as we have seen before, by buccaneers in all their various grades and stages, from beef-driers to pirates. the french authorities undertook to supply these erratic people with the goods and provisions which they needed, and built storehouses with everything necessary for carrying on the trade. there were plenty of purchasers, for the buccaneers were willing to buy everything which could be brought from europe. they were fond of good wine, good groceries, good firearms, and ammunition, fine cutlasses, and very often good clothes, in which they could disport themselves when on shore. but they had peculiar customs and manners, and although they were willing to buy as much as the french traders had to sell, they could not be prevailed upon to pay their bills. a pirate is not the sort of a man who generally cares to pay his bills. when he gets goods in any way, he wants them charged to him, and if that charge includes the features of robbery and murder, he will probably make no objection. but as for paying good money for what is received, that is quite another thing. that this was the state of feeling on the island of tortuga was discovered before very long by the french mercantile agents, who then applied to the mother country for assistance in collecting the debts due them, and a body of men, who might be called collectors, or deputy sheriffs, was sent out to the island; but although these officers were armed with pistols and swords, as well as with authority, they could do nothing with the buccaneers, and after a time the work of endeavoring to collect debts from pirates was given up. and as there was no profit in carrying on business in this way, the mercantile agency was also given up, and its officers were ordered to sell out everything they had on hand, and come home. there was, therefore, a sale, for which cash payments were demanded, and there was a great bargain day on the island of tortuga. everything was disposed of,--the stock of merchandise on hand, the tables, the desks, the stationery, the bookkeepers, the clerks, and the errand boys. the living items of the stock on hand were considered to be property just as if they had been any kind of merchandise, and were sold as slaves. now poor john esquemeling found himself in a sad condition. he was bought by one of the french officials who had been left on the island, and he described his new master as a veritable fiend. he was worked hard, half fed, treated cruelly in many ways, and to add to his misery, his master tantalized him by offering to set him free upon the payment of a sum of money equal to about three hundred dollars. he might as well have been asked to pay three thousand or three million dollars, for he had not a penny in the world. at last he was so fortunate as to fall sick, and his master, as avaricious as he was cruel, fearing that this creature he owned might die, and thus be an entire loss to him, sold him to a surgeon, very much as one would sell a sick horse to a veterinary surgeon, on the principle that he might make something out of the animal by curing him. his new master treated esquemeling very well, and after he had taken medicine and food enough to set him upon his legs, and had worked for the surgeon about a year, that kind master offered him his liberty if he would promise, as soon as he could earn the money, to pay him one hundred dollars, which would be a profit to his owner, who had paid but seventy dollars for him. this offer, of course, esquemeling accepted with delight, and having made the bargain, he stepped forth upon the warm sands of the island of tortuga a free and happy man. but he was as poor as a church mouse. he had nothing in the world but the clothes on his back, and he saw no way in which he could make money enough to keep himself alive until he had paid for himself. he tried various ways of support, but there was no opening for a young business man in that section of the country, and at last he came to the conclusion that there was only one way by which he could accomplish his object, and he therefore determined to enter into "the wicked order of pirates or robbers at sea." it must have been a strange thing for a man accustomed to pens and ink, to yard-sticks and scales, to feel obliged to enroll himself into a company of bloody, big-bearded pirates, but a man must eat, and buccaneering was the only profession open to our ex-clerk. for some reason or other, certainly not on account of his bravery and daring, esquemeling was very well received by the pirates of tortuga. perhaps they liked him because he was a mild-mannered man and so different from themselves. nobody was afraid of him, every one felt superior to him, and we are all very apt to like people to whom we feel superior. as for esquemeling himself, he soon came to entertain the highest opinion of his pirate companions. he looked upon the buccaneers who had distinguished themselves as great heroes, and it must have been extremely gratifying to those savage fellows to tell esquemeling all the wonderful things they had done. in the whole of the west indies there was no one who was in the habit of giving such intelligent attention to the accounts of piratical depredations and savage sea-fights, as was esquemeling and if he had demanded a salary as a listener there is no doubt that it would have been paid to him. it was not long before his intense admiration of the buccaneers and their performances began to produce in him the feeling that the history of these great exploits should not be lost to the world, and so he set about writing the lives and adventures of many of the buccaneers with whom he became acquainted. he remained with the pirates for several years, and during that time worked very industriously getting material together for his history. when he returned to his own country in , having done as much literary work as was possible among the uncivilized surroundings of tortuga, he there completed a book, which he called, "the buccaneers of america, or the true account of the most remarkable assaults committed of late years upon the coasts of the west indies by the buccaneers, etc., by john esquemeling, one of the buccaneers, who was present at those tragedies." from this title it is probable that our literary pirate accompanied his comrades on their various voyages and assaults, in the capacity of reporter, and although he states he was present at many of "those tragedies," he makes no reference to any deeds of valor or cruelty performed by himself, which shows him to have been a wonderfully conscientious historian. there are persons, however, who doubt his impartiality, because, as he liked the french, he always gave the pirates of that nationality the credit for most of the bravery displayed on their expeditions, and all of the magnanimity and courtesy, if there happened to be any, while the surliness, brutality, and extraordinary wickednesses were all ascribed to the english. but be this as it may, esquemeling's history was a great success. it was written in dutch and was afterwards translated into english, french, and spanish. it contained a great deal of information regarding buccaneering in general, and most of the stories of pirates which we have already told, and many of the surprising narrations which are to come, have been taken from the book of this buccaneer historian. chapter x the story of roc, the brazilian having given the history of a very plain and quiet buccaneer, who was a reporter and writer, and who, if he were now living, would be eligible as a member of an authors' club, we will pass to the consideration of a regular out-and-out pirate, one from whose mast-head would have floated the black flag with its skull and cross-bones if that emblematic piece of bunting had been in use by the pirates of the period. this famous buccaneer was called roc, because he had to have a name, and his own was unknown, and "the brazilian," because he was born in brazil, though of dutch parents. unlike most of his fellow-practitioners he did not gradually become a pirate. from his early youth he never had an intention of being anything else. as soon as he grew to be a man he became a bloody buccaneer, and at the first opportunity he joined a pirate crew, and had made but a few voyages when it was perceived by his companions that he was destined to become a most remarkable sea-robber. he was offered the command of a ship with a well-armed crew of marine savages, and in a very short time after he had set out on his first independent cruise he fell in with a spanish ship loaded with silver bullion; having captured this, he sailed with his prize to jamaica, which was one of the great resorts of the english buccaneers. there his success delighted the community, his talents for the conduct of great piratical operations soon became apparent, and he was generally acknowledged as the head pirate of the west indies. he was now looked upon as a hero even by those colonists who had no sympathy with pirates, and as for esquemeling, he simply worshipped the great brazilian desperado. if he had been writing the life and times of alexander the great, julius cæsar, or mr. gladstone, he could not have been more enthusiastic in his praises. and as in the arabian nights the roc is described as the greatest of birds, so, in the eyes of the buccaneer biographer, this roc was the greatest of pirates. but it was not only in the mind of the historian that roc now became famous; the better he became known, the more general was the fear and respect felt for him, and we are told that the mothers of the islands used to put their children to sleep by threatening them with the terrible roc if they did not close their eyes. this story, however, i regard with a great deal of doubt; it has been told of saladin and many other wicked and famous men, but i do not believe it is an easy thing to frighten a child into going to sleep. if i found it necessary to make a youngster take a nap, i should say nothing of the condition of affairs in cuba or of the persecutions of the armenians. this renowned pirate from brazil must have been a terrible fellow to look at. he was strong and brawny, his face was short and very wide, with high cheek-bones, and his expression probably resembled that of a pug dog. his eyebrows were enormously large and bushy, and from under them he glared at his mundane surroundings. he was not a man whose spirit could be quelled by looking him steadfastly in the eye. it was his custom in the daytime to walk about, carrying a drawn cutlass, resting easily upon his arm, edge up, very much as a fine gentleman carries his high silk hat, and any one who should impertinently stare or endeavor to quell his high spirits in any other way, would probably have felt the edge of that cutlass descending rapidly through his physical organism. he was a man who insisted upon being obeyed, and if any one of his crew behaved improperly, or was even found idle, this strict and inexorable master would cut him down where he stood. but although he was so strict and exacting during the business sessions of his piratical year, by which i mean when he was cruising around after prizes, he was very much more disagreeable when he was taking a vacation. on his return to jamaica after one of his expeditions it was his habit to give himself some relaxation after the hardships and dangers through which he had passed, and on such occasions it was a great comfort to roc to get himself thoroughly drunk. with his cutlass waving high in the air, he would rush out into the street and take a whack at every one whom he met. as far as was possible the citizens allowed him to have the street to himself, and it was not at all likely that his visits to jamaica were looked forward to with any eager anticipations. roc, it may be said, was not only a bloody pirate, but a blooded one; he was thoroughbred. from the time he had been able to assert his individuality he had been a pirate, and there was no reason to suppose that he would ever reform himself into anything else. there were no extenuating circumstances in his case; in his nature there was no alloy, nor moderation, nor forbearance. the appreciative esquemeling, who might be called the boswell of the buccaneers, could never have met his hero roc, when that bushy-bearded pirate was running "amuck" in the streets, but if he had, it is not probable that his book would have been written. he assures us that when roc was not drunk he was esteemed, but at the same time feared; but there are various ways of gaining esteem, and roc's method certainly succeeded very well in the case of his literary associate. as we have seen, the hatred of the spaniards by the buccaneers began very early in the settlement of the west indies, and in fact, it is very likely that if there had been no spaniards there would never have been any buccaneers; but in all the instances of ferocious enmity toward the spaniards there has been nothing to equal the feelings of roc, the brazilian, upon that subject. his dislike to everything spanish arose, he declared, from cruelties which had been practised upon his parents by people of that nation, and his main principle of action throughout all his piratical career seems to have been that there was nothing too bad for a spaniard. the object of his life was to wage bitter war against spanish ships and spanish settlements. he seldom gave any quarter to his prisoners, and would often subject them to horrible tortures in order to make them tell where he could find the things he wanted. there is nothing horrible that has ever been written or told about the buccaneer life, which could not have been told about roc, the brazilian. he was a typical pirate. [illustration: "in a small boat filled with some of his trusty men, he rowed quietly into the port."--p. .] roc was very successful, in his enterprises, and took a great deal of valuable merchandise to jamaica, but although he and his crew were always rich men when they went on shore, they did not remain in that condition very long. the buccaneers of that day were all very extravagant, and, moreover, they were great gamblers, and it was not uncommon for them to lose everything they possessed before they had been on shore a week. then there was nothing for them to do but to go on board their vessels and put out to sea in search of some fresh prize. so far roc's career had been very much like that of many other companions of the coast, differing from them only in respect to intensity and force, but he was a clever man with ideas, and was able to adapt himself to circumstances. he was cruising about campeachy without seeing any craft that was worth capturing, when he thought that it would be very well for him to go out on a sort of marine scouting expedition and find out whether or not there were any spanish vessels in the bay which were well laden and which were likely soon to come out. so, with a small boat filled with some of his trusty men, he rowed quietly into the port to see what he could discover. if he had had esquemeling with him, and had sent that mild-mannered observer into the harbor to investigate into the state of affairs, and come back with a report, it would have been a great deal better for the pirate captain, but he chose to go himself, and he came to grief. no sooner did the people on the ships lying in the harbor behold a boat approaching with a big-browed, broad-jawed mariner sitting in the stern, and with a good many more broad-backed, hairy mariners than were necessary, pulling at the oars, than they gave the alarm. the well-known pirate was recognized, and it was not long before he was captured. roc must have had a great deal of confidence in his own powers, or perhaps he relied somewhat upon the fear which his very presence evoked. but he made a mistake this time; he had run into the lion's jaw, and the lion had closed his teeth upon him. when the pirate captain and his companions were brought before the governor, he made no pretence of putting them to trial. buccaneers were outlawed by the spanish, and were considered as wild beasts to be killed without mercy wherever caught. consequently roc and his men were thrown into a dungeon and condemned to be executed. if, however, the spanish governor had known what was good for himself, he would have had them killed that night. during the time that preparations were going on for making examples of these impertinent pirates, who had dared to enter the port of campeachy, roc was racking his brains to find some method of getting out of the terrible scrape into which he had fallen. this was a branch of the business in which a capable pirate was obliged to be proficient; if he could not get himself out of scrapes, he could not expect to be successful. in this case there was no chance of cutting down sentinels, or jumping overboard with a couple of wine-jars for a life-preserver, or of doing any of those ordinary things which pirates were in the habit of doing when escaping from their captors. roc and his men were in a dungeon on land, inside of a fortress, and if they escaped from this, they would find themselves unarmed in the midst of a body of spanish soldiers. their stout arms and their stout hearts were of no use to them now, and they were obliged to depend upon their wits if they had any. roc had plenty of wit, and he used it well. there was a slave, probably not a negro nor a native, but most likely some european who had been made prisoner, who came in to bring him food and drink, and by the means of this man the pirate hoped to play a trick upon the governor. he promised the slave that if he would help him,--and he told him it would be very easy to do so,--he would give him money enough to buy his freedom and to return to his friends, and this, of course, was a great inducement to the poor fellow, who may have been an englishman or a frenchman in good circumstances at home. the slave agreed to the proposals, and the first thing he did was to bring some writing-materials to roc, who thereupon began the composition of a letter upon which he based all his hopes of life and freedom. when he was coming into the bay, roc had noticed a large french vessel that was lying at some distance from the town, and he wrote his letter as if it had come from the captain of this ship. in the character of this french captain he addressed his letter to the governor of the town, and in it he stated that he had understood that certain companions of the coast, for whom he had great sympathy,--for the french and the buccaneers were always good friends,--had been captured by the governor, who, he heard, had threatened to execute them. then the french captain, by the hand of roc, went on to say that if any harm should come to these brave men, who had been taken and imprisoned when they were doing no harm to anybody, he would swear, in his most solemn manner, that never, for the rest of his life, would he give quarter to any spaniard who might fall into his hands, and he, moreover, threatened that any kind of vengeance which should become possible for the buccaneers and french united, to inflict upon the spanish ships, or upon the town of campeachy, should be taken as soon as possible after he should hear of any injury that might be inflicted upon the unfortunate men who were then lying imprisoned in the fortress. when the slave came back to roc, the letter was given to him with very particular directions as to what he was to do with it. he was to disguise himself as much as possible, so that he should not be recognized by the people of the place, and then in the night he was to make his way out of the town, and early in the morning he was to return as if he had been walking along the shore of the harbor, when he was to state that he had been put on shore from the french vessel in the offing, with a letter which he was to present to the governor. the slave performed his part of the business very well. the next day, wet and bedraggled, from making his way through the weeds and mud of the coast, he presented himself at the fortress with his letter, and when he was allowed to take it to the governor, no one suspected that he was a person employed about the place. having fulfilled his mission, he departed, and when seen again he was the same servant whose business it was to carry food to the prisoners. the governor read the letter with a disquieted mind; he knew that the french ship which was lying outside the harbor was a powerful vessel and he did not like french ships, anyway. the town had once been taken and very badly treated by a little fleet of french and english buccaneers, and he was very anxious that nothing of the kind should happen again. there was no great spanish force in the harbor at that time, and he did not know how many buccaneering vessels might be able to gather together in the bay if it should become known that the great pirate roc had been put to death in campeachy. it was an unusual thing for a prisoner to have such powerful friends so near by, and the governor took roc's case into most earnest consideration. a few hours' reflection was sufficient to convince him that it would be very unsafe to tamper with such a dangerous prize as the pirate roc, and he determined to get rid of him as soon as possible. he felt himself in the position of a man who has stolen a baby-bear, and who hears the roar of an approaching parent through the woods; to throw away the cub and walk off as though he had no idea there were any bears in that forest would be the inclination of a man so situated, and to get rid of the great pirate without provoking the vengeance of his friends was the natural inclination of the governor. now roc and his men were treated well, and having been brought before the governor, were told that in consequence of their having committed no overt act of disorder they would be set at liberty and shipped to england, upon the single condition that they would abandon piracy and agree to become quiet citizens in whatever respectable vocation they might select. to these terms roc and his men agreed without argument. they declared that they would retire from the buccaneering business, and that nothing would suit them better than to return to the ways of civilization and virtue. there was a ship about to depart for spain, and on this the governor gave roc and his men free passage to the other side of the ocean. there is no doubt that our buccaneers would have much preferred to have been put on board the french vessel; but as the spanish governor had started his prisoners on the road to reform, he did not wish to throw them into the way of temptation by allowing them to associate with such wicked companions as frenchmen, and roc made no suggestion of the kind, knowing very well how greatly astonished the french captain would be if the governor were to communicate with him on the subject. on the voyage to spain roc was on his good behavior, and he was a man who knew how to behave very well when it was absolutely necessary: no doubt there must have been many dull days on board ship when he would have been delighted to gamble, to get drunk, and to run "amuck" up and down the deck. but he carefully abstained from all these recreations, and showed himself to be such an able-bodied and willing sailor that the captain allowed him to serve as one of the crew. roc knew how to do a great many things; not only could he murder and rob, but he knew how to turn an honest penny when there was no other way of filling his purse. he had learned among the indians how to shoot fish with bow and arrows, and on this voyage across the atlantic he occupied all his spare time in sitting in the rigging and shooting the fish which disported themselves about the vessel. these fish he sold to the officers, and we are told that in this way he earned no less than five hundred crowns, perhaps that many dollars. if this account is true, fish must have been very costly in those days, but it showed plainly that if roc had desired to get into an honest business, he would have found fish-shooting a profitable occupation. in every way roc behaved so well that for his sake all his men were treated kindly and allowed many privileges. but when this party of reformed pirates reached spain and were allowed to go where they pleased, they thought no more of the oaths they had taken to abandon piracy than they thought of the oaths which they had been in the habit of throwing right and left when they had been strolling about on the island of jamaica. they had no ship, and not enough money to buy one, but as soon as they could manage it they sailed back to the west indies, and eventually found themselves in jamaica, as bold and as bloody buccaneers as ever they had been. not only did roc cast from him every thought of reformation and a respectable life, but he determined to begin the business of piracy on a grander scale than ever before. he made a compact with an old french buccaneer, named tributor, and with a large company of buccaneers he actually set out to take a town. having lost everything he possessed, and having passed such a long time without any employment more profitable than that of shooting fish with a bow and arrows, our doughty pirate now desired to make a grand strike, and if he could take a town and pillage it of everything valuable it contained, he would make a very good fortune in a very short time, and might retire, if he chose, from the active practice of his profession. the town which roc and tributor determined to attack was merida, in yucatan, and although this was a bold and rash undertaking, the two pirates were bold and rash enough for anything. roc had been a prisoner in merida, and on account of his knowledge of the town he believed that he and his followers could land upon the coast, and then quietly advance upon the town without their approach being discovered. if they could do this, it would be an easy matter to rush upon the unsuspecting garrison, and, having annihilated these, make themselves masters of the town. but their plans did not work very well; they were discovered by some indians, after they had landed, who hurried to merida and gave notice of the approach of the buccaneers. consequently, when roc and his companions reached the town they found the garrison prepared for them, cannons loaded, and all the approaches guarded. still the pirates did not hesitate; they advanced fiercely to the attack just as they were accustomed to do when they were boarding a spanish vessel, but they soon found that fighting on land was very different from fighting at sea. in a marine combat it is seldom that a party of boarders is attacked in the rear by the enemy, although on land such methods of warfare may always be expected; but roc and tributor did not expect anything of the kind, and they were, therefore, greatly dismayed when a party of horsemen from the town, who had made a wide détour through the woods, suddenly charged upon their rear. between the guns of the garrison and the sabres of the horsemen the buccaneers had a very hard time, and it was not long before they were completely defeated. tributor and a great many of the pirates were killed or taken, and roc, the brazilian, had a terrible fall. this most memorable fall occurred in the estimation of john esquemeling, who knew all about the attack on merida, and who wrote the account of it. but he had never expected to be called upon to record that his great hero, roc, the brazilian, saved his life, after the utter defeat of himself and his companions, by ignominiously running away. the loyal chronicler had as firm a belief in the absolute inability of his hero to fly from danger as was shown by the scottish douglas, when he stood, his back against a mass of stone, and invited his enemies to "come one, come all." the bushy-browed pirate of the drawn cutlass had so often expressed his contempt for a soldier who would even surrender, to say nothing of running away, that esquemeling could scarcely believe that roc had retreated from his enemies, deserted his friends, and turned his back upon the principles which he had always so truculently proclaimed. but this downfall of a hero simply shows that esquemeling, although he was a member of the piratical body, and was proud to consider himself a buccaneer, did not understand the true nature of a pirate. under the brutality, the cruelty, the dishonesty, and the recklessness of the sea-robbers of those days, there was nearly always meanness and cowardice. roc, as we have said in the beginning of this sketch, was a typical pirate; under certain circumstances he showed himself to have all those brave and savage qualities which esquemeling esteemed and revered, and under other circumstances he showed those other qualities which esquemeling despised, but which are necessary to make up the true character of a pirate. the historian john seems to have been very much cut up by the manner in which his favorite hero had rounded off his piratical career, and after that he entirely dropped roc from his chronicles. this out-and-out pirate was afterwards living in jamaica, and probably engaged in new enterprises, but esquemeling would have nothing more to do with him nor with the history of his deeds. chapter xi a buccaneer boom the condition of affairs in the west indies was becoming very serious in the eyes of the spanish rulers. they had discovered a new country, they had taken possession of it, and they had found great wealth of various kinds, of which they were very much in need. this wealth was being carried to spain as fast as it could be taken from the unfortunate natives and gathered together for transportation, and everything would have gone on very well indeed had it not been for the most culpable and unwarranted interference of that lawless party of men, who might almost be said to amount to a nationality, who were continually on the alert to take from spain everything she could take from america. the english, french, and dutch governments were generally at peace with spain, but they sat by quietly and saw their sailor subjects band themselves together and make war upon spanish commerce,--a very one-sided commerce, it is true. it was of no use for spain to complain of the buccaneers to her sister maritime nations. it is not certain that they could have done anything to interfere with the operations of the sea-robbers who originally sailed from their coasts, but it is certain they did not try to do anything. whatever was to be done, spain must do herself. the pirates were as slippery as they were savage, and although the spaniards made a regular naval war upon them, they seemed to increase rather than to diminish. every time that a spanish merchantman was taken, and its gold and silver and valuable goods carried off to tortuga or jamaica, and divided among a lot of savage and rollicking fellows, the greater became the enthusiasm among the brethren of the coast, and the wider spread the buccaneering boom. more ships laden almost entirely with stalwart men, well provided with arms, and very badly furnished with principles, came from england and france, and the spanish ships of war in the west indies found that they were confronted by what was, in many respects, a regular naval force. the buccaneers were afraid of nothing; they paid no attention to the rules of war,--a little ship would attack a big one without the slightest hesitation, and more than that, would generally take it,--and in every way spain was beginning to feel as if she were acting the part of provider to the pirate seamen of every nation. finding that she could do nothing to diminish the number of the buccaneering vessels, spain determined that she would not have so many richly laden ships of her own upon these dangerous seas; consequently, a change was made in regard to the shipping of merchandise and the valuable metals from america to her home ports. the cargoes were concentrated, and what had previously been placed upon three ships was crowded into the holds and between the decks of one great vessel, which was so well armed and defended as to make it almost impossible for any pirate ship to capture it. in some respects this plan worked very well, although when the buccaneers did happen to pounce upon one of these richly laden vessels, in such numbers and with such swift ferocity, that they were able to capture it, they rejoiced over a prize far more valuable than anything the pirate soul had ever dreamed of before. but it was not often that one of these great ships was taken, and for a time the results of spanish robbery and cruelty were safely carried to spain. but it was very hard to get the better of the buccaneers; their lives and their fortunes depended upon this boom, and if in one way they could not get the gold out of the spaniards, which the latter got out of the natives, they would try another. when the miners in the gold fields find they can no longer wash out with their pans a paying quantity of the precious metal, they go to work on the rocks and break them into pieces and crush them into dust; so, when the buccaneers found it did not pay to devote themselves to capturing spanish gold on its transit across the ocean, many of them changed their methods of operation and boldly planned to seize the treasures of their enemy before it was put upon the ships. consequently, the buccaneers formed themselves into larger bodies commanded by noted leaders, and made attacks upon the spanish settlements and towns. many of these were found nearly defenceless, and even those which boasted fortifications often fell before the reckless charges of the buccaneers. the pillage, the burning, and the cruelty on shore exceeded that which had hitherto been known on the sea. there is generally a great deal more in a town than there is in a ship, and the buccaneers proved themselves to be among the most outrageous, exacting, and cruel conquerors ever known in the world. they were governed by no laws of warfare; whatever they chose to do they did. they respected nobody, not even themselves, and acted like wild beasts, without the disposition which is generally shown by a wild beast, to lie down and go to sleep when he has had enough. there were times when it seemed as though it would be safer for a man who had a regard for his life and comfort, to sail upon a pirate ship instead of a spanish galleon, or to take up his residence in one of the uncivilized communities of tortuga or jamaica, instead of settling in a well-ordered spanish-american town with its mayor, its officials, and its garrison. it was a very strange nation of marine bandits which had thus sprung into existence on these faraway waters; it was a nation of grown-up men, who existed only for the purpose of carrying off that which other people were taking away; it was a nation of second-hand robbers, who carried their operations to such an extent that they threatened to do away entirely with that series of primary robberies to which spain had devoted herself. i do not know that there were any companies formed in those days for the prosecution of buccaneering, but i am quite sure that if there had been, their shares would have gone up to a very high figure. chapter xii the story of l'olonnois the cruel in the preceding chapter we have seen that the buccaneers had at last become so numerous and so formidable that it was dangerous for a spanish ship laden with treasure from the new world to attempt to get out of the caribbean sea into the atlantic, and that thus failing to find enough richly laden vessels to satisfy their ardent cravings for plunder, the buccaneers were forced to make some change in their methods of criminal warfare; and from capturing spanish galleons, they formed themselves into well-organized bodies and attacked towns. among the buccaneer leaders who distinguished themselves as land pirates was a thoroughbred scoundrel by the name of francis l'olonnois, who was born in france. in those days it was the custom to enforce servitude upon people who were not able to take care of themselves. unfortunate debtors and paupers of all classes were sold to people who had need of their services. the only difference sometimes between master and servant depended entirely upon the fact that one had money, and the other had none. boys and girls were sold for a term of years, somewhat as if they had been apprentices, and it so happened that the boy l'olonnois was sold to a master who took him to the west indies. there he led the life of a slave until he was of age, and then, being no longer subject to ownership, he became one of the freest and most independent persons who ever walked this earth. he began his career on the island of hispaniola, where he took up the business of hunting and butchering cattle; but he very soon gave up this life for that of a pirate, and enlisted as a common sailor on one of their ships. here he gave signs of such great ability as a brave and unscrupulous scoundrel that one of the leading pirates on the island of tortuga gave him a ship and a crew, and set him up in business on his own account. the piratical career of l'olonnois was very much like that of other buccaneers of the day, except that he was so abominably cruel to the spanish prisoners whom he captured that he gained a reputation for vile humanity, surpassing that of any other rascal on the western continent. when he captured a prisoner, it seemed to delight his soul as much to torture and mutilate him before killing him as to take away whatever valuables he possessed. his reputation for ingenious wickedness spread all over the west indies, so that the crews of spanish ships, attacked by this demon, would rather die on their decks or sink to the bottom in their ships than be captured by l'olonnois. all the barbarities, the brutalities, and the fiendish ferocity which have ever been attributed to the pirates of the world were united in the character of this inhuman wretch, who does not appear to be so good an example of the true pirate as roc, the brazilian. he was not so brave, he was not so able, and he was so utterly base that it would be impossible for any one to look upon him as a hero. after having attained in a very short time the reputation of being the most bloody and wicked pirate of his day, l'olonnois was unfortunate enough to be wrecked upon the coast, not far from the town of campeachy. he and his crew got safely to shore, but it was not long before their presence was discovered by the people of the town, and the spanish soldiers thereupon sallied out and attacked them. there was a fierce fight, but the spaniards were the stronger, and the buccaneers were utterly defeated. many of them were killed, and most of the rest wounded or taken prisoners. among the wounded was l'olonnois, and as he knew that if he should be discovered he would meet with no mercy, he got behind some bushes, scooped up several handfuls of sand, mixed it with his blood, and with it rubbed his face so that it presented the pallor of a corpse. then he lay down among the bodies of his dead companions, and when the spaniards afterwards walked over the battlefield, he was looked upon as one of the common pirates whom they had killed. when the soldiers had retired into the town with their prisoners, the make-believe corpse stealthily arose and made his way into the woods, where he stayed until his wounds were well enough for him to walk about. he divested himself of his great boots, his pistol belt, and the rest of his piratical costume, and, adding to his scanty raiment a cloak and hat which he had stolen from a poor cottage, he boldly approached the town and entered it. he looked like a very ordinary person, and no notice was taken of him by the authorities. here he found shelter and something to eat, and he soon began to make himself very much at home in the streets of campeachy. it was a very gay time in the town, and, as everybody seemed to be happy, l'olonnois was very glad to join in the general rejoicing, and these hilarities gave him particular pleasure as he found out that he was the cause of them. the buccaneers who had been captured, and who were imprisoned in the fortress, had been interrogated over and over again by the spanish officials in regard to l'olonnois, their commander, and, as they had invariably answered that he had been killed, the spanish were forced to believe the glad tidings, and they celebrated the death of the monster as the greatest piece of public good fortune which could come to their community. they built bonfires, they sang songs about the death of the black-hearted buccaneer, and services of thanksgiving were held in their churches. all this was a great delight to l'olonnois, who joined hands with the young men and women, as they danced around the bonfires; he assisted in a fine bass voice in the choruses which told of his death and his dreadful doom, and he went to church and listened to the priests and the people as they gave thanks for their deliverance from his enormities. but l'olonnois did not waste all his time chuckling over the baseless rejoicings of the people of the town. he made himself acquainted with some of the white slaves, men who had been brought from england, and finding some of them very much discontented with their lot, he ventured to tell them that he was one of the pirates who had escaped, and offered them riches and liberty if they would join him in a scheme he had concocted. it would have been easy enough for him to get away from the town by himself, but this would have been of no use to him unless he obtained some sort of a vessel, and some men to help him navigate it. so he proposed to the slaves that they should steal a small boat belonging to the master of one of them, and in this, under cover of the night, the little party safely left campeachy and set sail for tortuga, which, as we have told, was then the headquarters of the buccaneers, and "the common place of refuge of all sorts or wickedness, and the seminary, as it were, of all manner of pirates." chapter xiii a resurrected pirate when l'olonnois arrived at tortuga he caused great astonishment among his old associates; that he had come back a comparative pauper surprised no one, for this was a common thing to happen to a pirate, but the wonder was that he got back at all. he had no money, but, by the exercise of his crafty abilities, he managed to get possession of a ship, which he manned with a crew of about a score of impecunious dare-devils who were very anxious to do something to mend their fortunes. having now become very fond of land-fighting, he did not go out in search of ships, but directed his vessel to a little village called de los cayos, on the coast of cuba, for here, he thought, was a chance for a good and easy stroke of business. this village was the abode of industrious people, who were traders in tobacco, hides, and sugar, and who were obliged to carry on their traffic in a rather peculiar manner. the sea near their town was shallow, so that large ships could not approach very near, and thus the villagers were kept busy carrying goods and supplies in small boats, backwards and forwards from the town to the vessels at anchor. here was a nice little prize that could not get away from him, and l'olonnois had plenty of time to make his preparations to seize it. as he could not sail a ship directly up to the town, he cruised about the coast at some distance from de los cayos, endeavoring to procure two small boats in which to approach the town, but although his preparations were made as quietly as possible, the presence of his vessel was discovered by some fishermen. they knew that it was a pirate ship, and some of them who had seen l'olonnois recognized that dreaded pirate upon the deck. word of the impending danger was taken to the town, and the people there immediately sent a message by land to havana, informing the governor of the island that the cruel pirate l'olonnois was in a ship a short distance from their village, which he undoubtedly intended to attack. when the governor heard this astonishing tale, it was almost impossible for him to believe it. the good news of the death of l'olonnois had come from campeachy to havana, and the people of the latter town also rejoiced greatly. to be now told that this scourge of the west indies was alive, and was about to fall upon a peaceful little village on the island over which he ruled, filled the governor with rage as well as amazement, and he ordered a well-armed ship, with a large crew of fighting men, to sail immediately for de los cayos, giving the captain express orders that he was not to come back until he had obliterated from the face of the earth the whole of the wretched gang with the exception of the leader. this extraordinary villain was to be brought to havana to be treated as the governor should see fit. in order that his commands should be executed promptly and effectually, the governor sent a big negro slave in the ship, who was charged with the duty of hanging every one of the pirates except l'olonnois. by the time the war-vessel had arrived at de los cayos, l'olonnois had made his preparation to attack the place. he had procured two large canoes, and in these he had intended to row up to the town and land with his men. but now there was a change in the state of affairs, and he was obliged to alter his plans. the ordinary person in command of two small boats, who should suddenly discover that a village which he supposed almost defenceless, was protected by a large man-of-war, with cannon and a well-armed crew, would have altered his plans so completely that he would have left that part of the coast of cuba with all possible expedition. but the pirates of that day seemed to pay very little attention to the element of odds; if they met an enemy who was weak, they would fall upon him, and if they met with one who was a good deal stronger than themselves, they would fall upon him all the same. when the time came to fight they fought. of course l'olonnois could not now row leisurely up to the town and begin to pillage it as he had intended, but no intention of giving up his project entered his mind. as the spanish vessel was in his way, he would attack her and get her out of his way if the thing could be done. in this new state of affairs he was obliged to use stratagem, and he also needed a larger force than he had with him, and he therefore captured some men who were fishing along the coast and put them into his canoes to help work the oars. then by night he proceeded slowly in the direction of the spanish vessel. the man-of-war was anchored not very far from the town, and when about two o'clock in the morning the watch on deck saw some canoes approaching they supposed them to be boats from shore, for, as has been said, such vessels were continually plying about those shallow waters. the canoes were hailed, and after having given an account of themselves they were asked if they knew anything about the pirate ship upon the coast. l'olonnois understood very well that it would not do for him or his men to make answer to these inquiries, for their speech would have shown they did not belong to those parts. therefore he made one of his prisoner fishermen answer that they had not seen a pirate vessel, and if there had been one there, it must have sailed away when its captain heard the spanish ship was coming. then the canoes were allowed to go their way, but their way was a very different one from any which could have been expected by the captain of the ship. they rowed off into the darkness instead of going toward the town, and waited until nearly daybreak, then they boldly made for the man-of-war, one canoe attacking her on one side and the other on the other. before the spanish could comprehend what had happened there were more than twenty pirates upon their decks, the dreaded l'olonnois at their head. in such a case as this cannon were of no use, and when the crew tried to rush upon deck, they found that cutlasses and pistols did not avail very much better. the pirates had the advantage; they had overpowered the watch, and were defending the deck against all comers from below. it requires a very brave sailor to stick his head out of a hatchway when he sees three or four cutlasses ready to split it open. but there was some stout fighting on board; the officers came out of their cabins, and some of the men were able to force their way out into the struggle. the pirates knew, however, that they were but few and that were their enemies allowed to get on deck they would prove entirely too strong, and they fought, each scoundrel of them, like three men, and the savage fight ended by every spanish sailor or officer who was not killed or wounded being forced to stay below decks, where the hatches were securely fastened down upon them. l'olonnois now stood a proud victor on the deck of his prize, and, being a man of principle, he determined to live up to the distinguished reputation which he had acquired in that part of the world. baring his muscular and hairy right arm, he clutched the handle of his sharp and heavy cutlass and ordered the prisoners to be brought up from below, one at a time, and conducted to the place where he stood. he wished to give spain a lesson which would make her understand that he was not to be interfered with in the execution of his enterprises, and he determined to allow himself the pleasure of personally teaching this lesson. as soon as a prisoner was brought to l'olonnois he struck off his head, and this performance he continued, beginning with number one, and going on until he had counted ninety. the last one brought to him was the negro slave. this man, who was not a soldier, was desperately frightened and begged piteously for his life. l'olonnois, finding that the man was willing to tell everything he knew, questioned him about the sending of this vessel from havana, and when the poor fellow had finished by telling that he had come there, not of his own accord, but simply for the purpose of obeying his master, to hang all the pirates except their leader, that great buccaneer laughed, and, finding he could get nothing more from the negro, cut off his head likewise, and his body was tumbled into the sea after those of his companions. now there was not a spaniard left on board the great ship except one man, who had been preserved from the fate of the others because l'olonnois had some correspondence to attend to, and he needed a messenger to carry a letter. the pirate captain went into the cabin, where he found writing-materials ready to his hand, and there he composed a letter to the governor of havana, a part of which read as follows: "i shall never henceforward give quarter unto any spaniard whatsoever. and i have great hopes that i shall execute on your own person the very same punishment i have done to them you sent against me. thus i have retaliated the kindness you designed unto me and my companions." when this message was received by the dignified official who filled the post of governor of cuba, he stormed and fairly foamed at the mouth. to be utterly foiled and discomfited by this resurrected pirate, and to be afterwards addressed in terms of such unheard-of insolence and abuse, was more than he could bear, and, in the presence of many of his officials and attendants, he swore a terrible oath that after that hour he would never again give quarter to any buccaneer, no matter when or where he was captured, or what he might be doing at the time. every man of the wretched band should die as soon as he could lay hands upon him. but when the inhabitants of havana and the surrounding villages heard of this terrible resolution of their governor they were very much disturbed. they lived in constant danger of attack, especially those who were engaged in fishing or maritime pursuits, and they feared that when it became known that no buccaneer was to receive quarter, the spanish colonists would be treated in the same way, no matter where they might be found and taken. consequently, it was represented to the governor that his plan of vengeance would work most disastrously for the spanish settlers, for the buccaneers could do far more damage to them than he could possibly do to these dreadful brethren of the coast, and that, unless he wished to bring upon them troubles greater than those of famine or pestilence, they begged that he would retract his oath. when the high dignitary had cooled down a little, he saw that there was a good deal of sense in what the representative of the people had said to him, and he consequently felt obliged, in consideration of the public safety, to take back what he had said, and to give up the purpose, which would have rendered unsafe the lives of so many peaceable people. l'olonnois was now the possessor of a fine vessel which had not been in the least injured during the battle in which it had been won. but his little crew, some of whom had been killed and wounded, was insufficient to work such a ship upon an important cruise on the high seas, and he also discovered, much to his surprise, that there were very few provisions on board, for when the vessel was sent from havana it was supposed she would make but a very short cruise. this savage swinger of the cutlass thereupon concluded that he would not try to do any great thing for the present, but, having obtained some booty and men from the woe-begone town of de los cayos, he sailed away, touching at several other small ports for the purpose of pillage, and finally anchoring at tortuga. chapter xiv villany on a grand scale when l'olonnois landed on the disreputable shores of tortuga, he was received by all circles of the vicious society of the island with loud acclamation. he had not only taken a fine spanish ship, he had not only bearded the governor of havana in his fortified den, but he had struck off ninety heads with his own hand. even people who did not care for him before reverenced him now. in all the annals of piracy no hero had ever done such a deed as this, and the best records of human butchering had been broken. now grand and ambitious ideas began to swell the head of this champion slaughterer, and he conceived the plan of getting up a grand expedition to go forth and capture the important town of maracaibo, in new venezuela. this was an enterprise far above the ordinary aims of a buccaneer, and it would require more than ordinary force to accomplish it. he therefore set himself to work to enlist a large number of men and to equip a fleet of vessels, of which he was to be chief commander or admiral. there were a great many unemployed pirates in tortuga at that time, and many a brawny rascal volunteered to sail under the flag of the daring butcher of the seas. but in order to equip a fleet, money was necessary as well as men, and therefore l'olonnois thought himself very lucky when he succeeded in interesting the principal piratical capitalist of tortuga in his undertaking. this was an old and seasoned buccaneer by the name of michael de basco, who had made money enough by his piratical exploits to retire from business and live on his income. he held the position of mayor of the island and was an important man among his fellow-miscreants. when de basco heard of the great expedition which l'olonnois was about to undertake, his whole soul was fired and he could not rest tamely in his comfortable quarters when such great things were to be done, and he offered to assist l'olonnois with funds and join in the expedition if he were made commander of the land forces. this offer was accepted gladly, for de basco had a great reputation as a fighter in europe as well as in america. when everything had been made ready, l'olonnois set sail for maracaibo with a fleet of eight ships. on the way they captured two spanish vessels, both of which were rich prizes, and at last they arrived before the town which they intended to capture. maracaibo was a prosperous place of three or four thousand inhabitants; they were rich people living in fine houses, and many of them had plantations which extended out into the country. in every way the town possessed great attractions to piratical marauders, but there were difficulties in the way; being such an important place, of course it had important defences. on an island in the harbor there was a strong fort, or castle, and on another island a little further from the town there was a tall tower, on the top of which a sentinel was posted night and day to give notice of any approaching enemy. between these two islands was the only channel by which the town could be approached from the sea. but in preparing these defences the authorities had thought only of defending themselves against ordinary naval forces and had not anticipated the extraordinary naval methods of the buccaneers who used to be merely sea-robbers, who fell upon ships after they had left their ports, but who now set out to capture not only ships at sea but towns on land. l'olonnois had too much sense to run his ships close under the guns of the fortress, against which he could expect to do nothing, for the buccaneers relied but little upon their cannon, and so they paid no more attention to the ordinary harbor than if it had not been there, but sailed into a fresh-water lake at some distance from the town, and out of sight of the tower. there l'olonnois landed his men, and, advancing upon the fort from the rear, easily crossed over to the little island and marched upon the fort. it was very early in the morning. the garrison was utterly amazed by this attack from land, and although they fought bravely for three hours, they were obliged to give up the defence of the walls, and as many of them as could do so got out of the fort and escaped to the mainland and the town. l'olonnois now took possession of the fort, and then, with the greater part of his men, he returned to his ships, brought them around to the entrance of the bay, and then boldly sailed with his whole fleet under the very noses of the cannon and anchored in the harbor in front of the town. when the citizens of maracaibo heard from the escaping garrison that the fort had been taken, they were filled with horror and dismay, for they had no further means of defence. they knew that the pirates had come there for no other object than to rob, pillage, and cruelly treat them, and consequently as many as possible hurried away into the woods and the surrounding country with as many of their valuables as they could carry. they resembled the citizens of a town attacked by the cholera or the plague, and in fact, they would have preferred a most terrible pestilence to this terrible scourge of piracy from which they were about to suffer. as soon as l'olonnois and his wild pirates had landed in the city they devoted themselves entirely to eating and drinking and making themselves merry. they had been on short commons during the latter part of their voyage, and they had a royal time with the abundance of food and wine which they found in the houses of the town. the next day, however, they set about attending to the business which had brought them there, and parties of pirates were sent out into the surrounding country to find the people who had run away and to take from them the treasures they had carried off. but although a great many of the poor, miserable, unfortunate citizens were captured and brought back to the town, there was found upon them very little money, and but few jewels or ornaments of value. and now l'olonnois began to prove how much worse his presence was than any other misfortune which could have happened to the town. he tortured the poor prisoners, men, women, and children, to make them tell where they had hidden their treasures, sometimes hacking one of them with his sword, declaring at the same time that if he did not tell where his money was hidden he would immediately set to work to cut up his family and his friends. the cruelties inflicted upon the inhabitants by this vile and beastly pirate and his men were so horrible that they could not be put into print. even john esquemeling, who wrote the account of it, had not the heart to tell everything that had happened. but after two weeks of horror and torture, the pirates were able to get but comparatively little out of the town, and they therefore determined to go somewhere else, where they might do better. at the southern end of lake maracaibo, about forty leagues from the town which the pirates had just desolated and ruined, lay gibraltar, a good-sized and prosperous town, and for this place l'olonnois and his fleet now set sail; but they were not able to approach unsuspected and unseen, for news of their terrible doings had gone before them, and their coming was expected. when they drew near the town they saw the flag flying from the fort, and they knew that every preparation had been made for defence. to attack such a place as this was a rash undertaking; the spaniards had perhaps a thousand soldiers, and the pirates numbered but three hundred and eighty, but l'olonnois did not hesitate. as usual, he had no thought of bombardment, or any ordinary method of naval warfare; but at the first convenient spot he landed all his men, and having drawn them up in a body, he made them an address. he made them understand clearly the difficult piece of work which was before them; but he assured them that pirates were so much in the habit of conquering spaniards that if they would all promise to follow him and do their best, he was certain he could take the town. he assured them that it would be an ignoble thing to give up such a grand enterprise as this simply because they found the enemy strong and so well prepared to meet them, and ended by stating that if he saw a man flinch or hold back for a second, he would pistol him with his own hand. whereupon the pirates all shook hands and promised they would follow l'olonnois wherever he might lead them. this they truly did, and l'olonnois, having a very imperfect knowledge of the proper way to the town, led them into a wild bog, where this precious pack of rascals soon found themselves up to their knees in mud and water, and in spite of all the cursing and swearing which they did, they were not able to press through the bog or get out of it. in this plight they were discovered by a body of horsemen from the town, who began firing upon them. the spaniards must now have thought that their game was almost bagged and that all they had to do was to stand on the edge of the bog and shoot down the floundering fellows who could not get away from them. but these fellows were bloody buccaneers, each one of them a great deal harder to kill than a cat, and they did not propose to stay in the bog to be shot down. with their cutlasses they hewed off branches of trees and threw these down in the bog, making a sort of rude roadway by means of which they were able to get out on solid ground. but here they found themselves confronted by a large body of spaniards, entrenched behind earthworks. cannon and musket were opened upon the buccaneers, and the noise and smoke were so terrible they could scarcely hear the commands of their leaders. never before, perhaps, had pirates been engaged in such a land battle as this. very soon the spaniards charged from behind their earthworks, and then l'olonnois and his men were actually obliged to fly back. if he could have found any way of retreating to his ships, l'olonnois would doubtless have done so, in spite of his doughty words, when he addressed his men, but this was now impossible, for the spaniards had felled trees and had made a barricade between the pirates and their ships. the buccaneers were now in a very tight place; their enemy was behind defences and firing at them steadily, without showing any intention of coming out to give the pirates a chance for what they considered a fair fight. every now and then a buccaneer would fall, and l'olonnois saw that as it would be utterly useless to endeavor to charge the barricade he must resort to some sort of trickery or else give up the battle. suddenly he passed the word for every man to turn his back and run away as fast as he could from the earthworks. away scampered the pirates, and from the valiant spaniards there came a shout of victory. the soldiers could not be restrained from following the fugitives and putting to death every one of the cowardly rascals. away went the buccaneers, and after them, hot and furious, came the soldiers. but as soon as the spaniards were so far away from their entrenchments that they could not get back to them, the crafty l'olonnois, who ran with one eye turned behind him, called a halt, his men turned, formed into battle array, and began an onslaught upon their pursuing enemy, such as these military persons had never dreamed of in their wildest imagination. we are told that over two hundred spaniards perished in a very short time. before a furious pirate with a cutlass a soldier with his musket seemed to have no chance at all, and very soon the spaniards who were left alive broke and ran into the woods. the buccaneers formed into a body and marched toward the town, which surrendered without firing a gun, and l'olonnois and his men, who, but an hour before, had been in danger of being shot down by their enemy as if they had been rabbits in a pen, now marched boldly into the centre of the town, pulled down the spanish flag, and hoisted their own in its place. they were the masters of gibraltar. never had ambitious villany been more successful. chapter xv a just reward when l'olonnois and his buccaneers entered the town of gibraltar they found that the greater part of the inhabitants had fled, but there were many people left, and these were made prisoners as fast as they were discovered. they were all forced to go into the great church, and then the pirates, fearing that the spaniards outside of the town might be reënforced and come back again to attack them, carried a number of cannon into the church and fortified the building. when this had been done, they felt safe and began to act as if they had been a menagerie of wild beasts let loose upon a body of defenceless men, women, and children. not only did these wretched men rush into the houses, stealing everything valuable they could find and were able to carry away, but when they had gathered together all they could discover they tortured their poor prisoners by every cruel method they could think of, in order to make them tell where more treasures were concealed. many of these unfortunates had had nothing to hide, and therefore could give no information to their brutal inquisitors, and others died without telling what they had done with their valuables. when the town had been thoroughly searched and sifted, the pirates sent men out into the little villages and plantations in the country, and even hunters and small farmers were captured and made to give up everything they possessed which was worth taking. for nearly three weeks these outrageous proceedings continued, and to prove that they were lower than the brute beasts they allowed the greater number of the prisoners collected in the church, to perish of hunger. there were not provisions enough in the town for the pirates' own uses and for these miserable creatures also, and so, with the exception of a small quantity of mule flesh, which many of the prisoners could not eat, they got nothing whatever, and slowly starved. when l'olonnois and his friends had been in possession of gibraltar for about a month, they thought it was time to leave, but their greedy souls were not satisfied with the booty they had already obtained, and they therefore sent messages to the spaniards who were still concealed in the forests, that unless in the course of two days a ransom of ten thousand pieces of eight were paid to them, they would burn the town to the ground. no matter what they thought of this heartless demand, it was not easy for the scattered citizens to collect such a sum as this, and the two days passed without the payment of the ransom, and the relentless pirates promptly carried out their threat and set the town on fire in various places. when the poor spaniards saw this and perceived that they were about to lose even their homes, they sent to the town and promised that if the pirates would put out the fires they would pay the money. in the hope of more money, and not in the least moved by any feeling of kindness, l'olonnois ordered his men to help put out the fires, but they were not extinguished until a quarter of the town was entirely burned and a fine church reduced to ashes. when the buccaneers found they could squeeze nothing more out of the town, they went on board their ships, carrying with them all the plunder and booty they had collected, and among their spoils were about five hundred slaves, of all ages and both sexes, who had been offered an opportunity to ransom themselves, but who, of course, had no money with which to buy their freedom, and who were now condemned to a captivity worse than anything they had ever known before. now the eight ships with their demon crews sailed away over the lake toward maracaibo. it was quite possible for them to get out to sea without revisiting this unfortunate town, but as this would have been a very good thing for them to do, it was impossible for them to do it; no chance to do anything wicked was ever missed by these pirates. consequently l'olonnois gave orders to drop anchor near the city, and then he sent some messengers ashore to inform the already half-ruined citizens that unless they sent him thirty thousand pieces of eight he would enter their town again, carry away everything they had left, and burn the place to the ground. the poor citizens sent a committee to confer with the pirates, and while the negotiations were going on some of the conscienceless buccaneers went on shore and carried off from one of the great churches its images, pictures, and even its bells. it was at last arranged that the citizens should pay twenty thousand pieces of eight, which was the utmost sum they could possibly raise, and, in addition to this, five hundred head of beef-cattle, and the pirates promised that if this were done they would depart and molest the town no more. the money was paid, the cattle were put on board the ships, and to the unspeakable relief of the citizens, the pirate fleet sailed away from the harbor. but it would be difficult to express the horror and dismay of those same citizens when, three days afterward, those pirate ships all came back again. black despair now fell upon the town; there was nothing more to be stolen, and these wretches must have repented that they had left the town standing, and had returned to burn it down. but when one man came ashore in a boat bringing the intelligence that l'olonnois could not get his largest ship across a bar at the entrance to the lake, and that he wanted a pilot to show him the channel, then the spirits of the people went up like one great united rocket, bursting into the most beautiful coruscations of sparks and colors. there was nothing on earth that they would be so glad to furnish him as a pilot to show him how to sail away from their shores. the pilot was instantly sent to the fleet, and l'olonnois and his devastating band departed. they did not go directly to tortuga, but stopped at a little island near hispaniola, which was inhabited by french buccaneers, and this delay was made entirely for the purpose of dividing the booty. it seems strange that any principle of right and justice should have been regarded by these dishonest knaves, even in their relations to each other, but they had rigid rules in regard to the division of their spoils, and according to these curious regulations the whole amount of plunder was apportioned among the officers and crews of the different ships. before the regular allotment of shares was made, the claims of the wounded were fully satisfied according to their established code. for the loss of a right arm a man was paid about six hundred dollars or six slaves; for the loss of a left arm, five hundred dollars, or five slaves; for a missing right leg, five hundred dollars, or five slaves; for a missing left leg, four hundred dollars, or four slaves; for an eye or a finger, one hundred dollars, or one slave. then the rest of the money and spoils were divided among all the buccaneers without reference to what had been paid to the wounded. the shares of those who had been killed were given to friends or acquaintances, who undertook to deliver them to their families. the spoils in this case consisted of two hundred and sixty thousand dollars in money and a great quantity of valuable goods, besides many slaves and precious stones and jewels. these latter were apportioned among the men in the most ridiculous manner, the pirates having no idea of the relative value of the jewels, some of them preferring large and worthless colored stones to smaller diamonds and rubies. when all their wickedly gained property had been divided, the pirates sailed to tortuga, where they proceeded, without loss of time, to get rid of the wealth they had amassed. they ate, they drank, they gambled; they crowded the taverns as taverns have never been crowded before; they sold their valuable merchandise for a twentieth part of its value to some of the more level-headed people of the place; and having rioted, gambled, and committed every sort of extravagance for about three weeks, the majority of l'olonnois' rascally crew found themselves as poor as when they had started off on their expedition. it took them almost as long to divide their spoils as it did to get rid of them. as these precious rascals had now nothing to live upon, it was necessary to start out again and commit some more acts of robbery and ruin; and l'olonnois, whose rapacious mind seems to have been filled with a desire for town-destroying, projected an expedition to nicaragua, where he proposed to pillage and devastate as many towns and villages as possible. his reputation as a successful commander was now so high that he had no trouble in getting men, for more offered themselves than he could possibly take. he departed with seven hundred men and six ships, stopping on the way near the coast of cuba, and robbing some poor fishermen of their boats, which he would need in shallow water. their voyage was a very long one, and they were beset by calms, and instead of reaching nicaragua, they drifted into the gulf of honduras. here they found themselves nearly out of provisions, and were obliged to land and scour the country to find something to eat. leaving their ships, they began a land march through the unfortunate region where they now found themselves. they robbed indians, they robbed villages; they devastated little towns, taking everything that they cared for, and burning what they did not want, and treating the people they captured with viler cruelties than any in which the buccaneers had yet indulged. their great object was to take everything they could find, and then try to make the people confess where other things were hidden. men and women were hacked to pieces with swords; it was l'olonnois' pleasure, when a poor victim had nothing to tell, to tear out his tongue with his own hands, and it is said that on some occasions his fury was so great that he would cut out the heart of a man and bite at it with his great teeth. no more dreadful miseries could be conceived than those inflicted upon the peaceful inhabitants of the country through which these wretches passed. they frequently met ambuscades of spaniards, who endeavored to stop their progress; but this was impossible. the pirates were too strong in number and too savage in disposition to be resisted by ordinary christians, and they kept on their wicked way. at last they reached a town called san pedro, which was fairly well defended, having around it a great hedge of prickly thorns; but thorns cannot keep out pirates, and after a severe fight the citizens surrendered, on condition that they should have two hours' truce. this was given, and the time was occupied by the people in running away into the woods and carrying off their valuables. but when the two hours had expired, l'olonnois and his men entered the town, and instead of rummaging around to see what they could find, they followed the unfortunate people into the woods, for they well understood what they wanted when they asked for a truce, and robbed them of nearly everything they had taken away. but the capture of this town was not of much service to l'olonnois, who did not find provisions enough to feed his men. their supplies ran very low, and it was not long before they were in danger of starvation. consequently they made their way by the most direct course to the coast, where they hoped to be able to get something to eat. if they could find nothing else, they might at least catch fish. on their way every rascal of them prepared himself a net, made out of the fibres of a certain plant, which grew in abundance in those regions, in order that he might catch himself a supper when he reached the sea. after a time the buccaneers got back to their fleet and remained on the coast about three months, waiting for some expected spanish ships, which they hoped to capture. they eventually met with one, and after a great deal of ordinary fighting and stratagem they boarded and took her, but found her not a very valuable prize. now l'olonnois proposed to his men that they should sail for guatemala, but he met with an unexpected obstacle; the buccaneers who had enlisted under him had expected to make great fortunes in this expedition, but their high hopes had not been realized. they had had very little booty and very little food, they were hungry and disappointed and wanted to go home, and the great majority of them declined to follow l'olonnois any farther. but there were some who declared that they would rather die than go home to tortuga as poor as when they left it, and so remained with l'olonnois on the biggest ship of the fleet, which he commanded. the smaller vessels now departed for tortuga, and after some trouble l'olonnois succeeded in getting his vessel out of the harbor where it had been anchored, and sailed for the islands of de las pertas. here he had the misfortune to run his big vessel hopelessly aground. when they found it absolutely impossible to get their great vessel off the sand banks, the pirates set to work to break her up and build a boat out of her planks. this was a serious undertaking, but it was all they could do. they could not swim away, and their ship was of no use to them as she was. but when they began to work they had no idea it would take so long to build a boat. it was several months before the unwieldy craft was finished, and they occupied part of the time in gardening, planting french beans, which came to maturity in six weeks, and gave them some fresh vegetables. they also had some stores and portable stoves on board their dismantled ship, and made bread from some wheat which was among their provisions, thus managing to live very well. l'olonnois was never intended by nature to be a boat-builder, or anything else that was useful and honest, and when the boat was finished it was discovered that it had been planned so badly that it would not hold them all, so all they could do was to draw lots to see who should embark in her, for one-half of them would have to stay until the others came back to release them. of course l'olonnois went away in the boat, and reached the mouth of the nicaragua river. there his party was attacked by some spaniards and indians, who killed more than half of them and prevented the others from landing. l'olonnois and the rest of his men got safely away, and they might now have sailed back to the island where they had left their comrades, for there was room enough for them all in the boat. but they did nothing of the sort, but went to the coast of cartagena. the pirates left on the island were eventually taken off by a buccaneering vessel, but l'olonnois had now reached the end of the string by which the devil had allowed him to gambol on this earth for so long a time. on the shores where he had now landed he did not find prosperous villages, treasure houses, and peaceful inhabitants, who could be robbed and tortured, but instead of these he came upon a community of indians, who were called by the spaniards, bravos, or wild men. these people would never have anything to do with the whites. it was impossible to conquer them or to pacify them by kind treatment. they hated the white man and would have nothing to do with him. they had heard of l'olonnois and his buccaneers, and when they found this notorious pirate upon their shores they were filled with a fury such as they had never felt for any others of his race. these bloody pirates had always conquered in their desperate fights because they were so reckless and so savage, but now they had fallen among thoroughbred savages, more cruel and more brutal and pitiless than themselves. nearly all the buccaneers were killed, and l'olonnois was taken prisoner. his furious captors tore his living body apart, piece by piece, and threw each fragment into the fire, and when the whole of this most inhuman of inhuman men had been entirely consumed, they scattered his ashes to the winds so that not a trace should remain on earth of this monster. if, in his infancy, he had died of croup, the history of the human race would have lost some of its blackest pages. chapter xvi a pirate potentate sometime in the last half of the seventeenth century on a quiet farm in a secluded part of wales there was born a little boy baby. his father was a farmer, and his mother churned, and tended the cows and the chickens, and there was no reason to imagine that this gentle little baby, born and reared in this rural solitude, would become one of the most formidable pirates that the world ever knew. yet such was the case. the baby's name was henry morgan, and as he grew to be a big boy a distaste for farming grew with him. so strong was his dislike that when he became a young man he ran away to the seacoast, for he had a fancy to be a sailor. there he found a ship bound for the west indies, and in this he started out on his life's career. he had no money to pay his passage, and he therefore followed the usual custom of those days and sold himself for a term of three years to an agent who was taking out a number of men to work on the plantations. in the places where these men were enlisted they were termed servants, but when they got to the new world they were generally called slaves and treated as such. when young morgan reached the barbadoes he was resold to a planter, and during his term of service he probably worked a good deal harder and was treated much more roughly than any of the laborers on his father's farm. but as soon as he was a free man he went to jamaica, and there were few places in the world where a young man could be more free and more independent than in this lawless island. here were rollicking and blustering "flibustiers," and here the young man determined to study piracy. he was not a sailor and hunter who by the force of circumstances gradually became a buccaneer, but he deliberately selected his profession, and immediately set to work to acquire a knowledge of its practice. there was a buccaneer ship about to sail from jamaica, and on this morgan enlisted. he was a clever fellow and very soon showed himself to be a brave and able sailor. after three or four voyages he acquired a reputation for remarkable coolness in emergencies, and showed an ability to take advantage of favorable circumstances, which was not possessed by many of his comrades. these prominent traits in his character became the foundation of his success. he also proved himself a very good business man, and having saved a considerable amount of money he joined with some other buccaneers and bought a ship, of which he took command. this ship soon made itself a scourge in the spanish seas; no other buccaneering vessel was so widely known and so greatly feared, and the english people in these regions were as proud of the young captain morgan as if he had been a regularly commissioned admiral, cruising against an acknowledged enemy. returning from one of his voyages morgan found an old buccaneer, named mansvelt, in jamaica, who had gathered together a fleet of vessels with which he was about to sail for the mainland. this expedition seemed a promising one to morgan, and he joined it, being elected vice-admiral of the fleet of fifteen vessels. since the successes of l'olonnois and others, attacks upon towns had become very popular with the buccaneers, whose leaders were getting to be tired of the retail branch of their business; that is, sailing about in one ship and capturing such merchantmen as it might fall in with. mansvelt's expedition took with it not only six hundred fighting pirates, but one writing pirate, for john esquemeling accompanied it, and so far as the fame and reputation of these adventurers was concerned his pen was mightier than their swords, for had it not been for his account of their deeds very little about them would have been known to the world. the fleet sailed directly for st. catherine, an island near costa rica, which was strongly fortified by the spaniards and used by them as a station for ammunition and supplies, and also as a prison. the pirates landed upon the island and made a most furious assault upon the fortifications, and although they were built of stone and well furnished with cannon, the savage assailants met with their usual good fortune. they swarmed over the walls and carried the place at the edge of the cutlass and the mouth of the pistol. in this fierce fight morgan performed such feats of valor that even some of the spaniards who had been taken prisoners, were forced to praise his extraordinary courage and ability as a leader. the buccaneers proceeded to make very good use of their victory. they captured some small adjoining islands and brought the cannon from them to the main fortress, which they put in a good condition of defence. here they confined all their prisoners and slaves, and supplied the island with an abundance of stores and provisions. it is believed that when mansvelt formed the plan of capturing this island he did so with the idea of founding there a permanent pirate principality, the inhabitants of which should not consider themselves english, french, or dutch, but plain pirates, having a nationality and country of their own. had the seed thus planted by mansvelt and morgan grown and matured, it is not unlikely that the whole of the west indies might now be owned and inhabited by an independent nation, whose founders were the bold buccaneers. when everything had been made tight and right at st. catherine, mansvelt and morgan sailed for the mainland, for the purpose of attacking an inland town called nata, but in this expedition they were not successful. the spanish governor of the province had heard of their approach, and met them with a body of soldiers so large that they prudently gave up the attempt,--a proceeding not very common with them, but morgan was not only a dare-devil of a pirate, but a very shrewd welshman. they returned to the ships, and after touching at st. catherine and leaving there enough men to defend it, under the command of a frenchman named le sieur simon, they sailed for jamaica. everything at st. catherine was arranged for permanent occupation; there was plenty of fresh water, and the ground could be cultivated, and simon was promised that additional forces should be sent him so that he could hold the island as a regular station for the assembling and fitting out of pirate vessels. the permanent pirate colony never came to anything; no reënforcements were sent; mansvelt died, and the spaniards gathered together a sufficient force to retake the island of st. catherine, and make prisoners of simon and his men. this was a blow to morgan, who had had great hopes of the fortified station he thought he had so firmly established, but after the project failed he set about forming another expedition. he was now recognized as buccaneer-in-chief of the west indies, and he very soon gathered together twelve ships and seven hundred men. everything was made ready to sail, and the only thing left to be done was to decide what particular place they should favor with a visit. there were some who advised an attack upon havana, giving as a reason that in that city there were a great many nuns, monks, and priests, and if they could capture them, they might ask as ransom for them, a sum a great deal larger than they could expect to get from the pillage of an ordinary town. but havana was considered to be too strong a place for a profitable venture, and after several suggestions had been made, at last a deserter from the spanish army, who had joined them, came forward with a good idea. he told the pirates of a town in cuba, to which he knew the way; it was named port-au-prince, and was situated so far inland that it had never been sacked. when the pirates heard that there existed an entirely fresh and unpillaged town, they were filled with as much excited delight as if they had been a party of school-boys who had just been told where they might find a tree full of ripe apples which had been overlooked by the men who had been gathering the crop. when morgan's fleet arrived at the nearest harbor to port-au-prince, he landed his men and marched toward the town, but he did not succeed in making a secret attack, as he had hoped. one of his prisoners, a spaniard, let himself drop overboard as soon as the vessels cast anchor, and swimming ashore, hurried to port-au-prince and informed the governor of the attack which was about to be made on the town. thus prepared, this able commander knew just what to do. he marched a body of soldiers along the road by which the pirates must come, and when he found a suitable spot he caused great trees to be cut down and laid across the road, thus making a formidable barricade. behind this his soldiers were posted with their muskets and their cannon, and when the pirates should arrive they would find that they would have to do some extraordinary fighting before they could pass this well-defended barrier. when morgan came within sight of this barricade, he understood that the spaniards had discovered his approach, and so he called a halt. he had always been opposed to unnecessary work, and he considered that it would be entirely unnecessary to attempt to disturb this admirable defence, so he left the road, marched his men into the woods, led them entirely around the barricades, and then, after proceeding a considerable distance, emerged upon a wide plain which lay before the town. here he found that he would have to fight his way into the city, and, probably much to his surprise, his men were presently charged by a body of cavalry. pirates, as a rule, have nothing to do with horses, either in peace or war, and the governor of the town no doubt thought that when his well-armed horsemen charged upon these men, accustomed to fighting on the decks of ships, and totally unused to cavalry combats, he would soon scatter and disperse them. but pirates are peculiar fighters; if they had been attacked from above by means of balloons, or from below by mines and explosives, they would doubtless have adapted their style of defence to the method of attack. they always did this, and according to esquemeling they nearly always got the better of their enemies; but we must remember that in cases where they did not succeed, as happened when they marched against the town of nata, he says very little about the affair and amplifies only the accounts of their successes. but the pirates routed the horsemen, and, after a fight of about four hours, they routed all the other spaniards who resisted them, and took possession of the town. here they captured a great many prisoners which they shut up in the churches and then sent detachments out into the country to look for those who had run away. then these utterly debased and cruel men began their usual course after capturing a town; they pillaged, feasted, and rioted; they gave no thought to the needs of the prisoners whom they had shut up in the churches, many of whom starved to death; they tortured the poor people to make them tell where they had hid their treasures, and nothing was too vile or too wicked for them to do if they thought they could profit by it. they had come for the express purpose of taking everything that the people possessed, and until they had forced from them all that was of the slightest value, they were not satisfied. even when the poor citizens seemed to have given up everything they owned they were informed that if they did not pay two heavy ransoms, one to protect themselves from being carried away into slavery, and one to keep their town from being burned, the same punishments would be inflicted upon them. for two weeks the pirates waited for the unfortunate citizens to go out into the country and find some of their townsmen who had escaped with a portion of their treasure. in those days people did not keep their wealth in banks as they do now, but every man was the custodian of most of his own possessions, and when they fled from the visitation of an enemy they took with them everything of value that they could carry. if their fortunes had been deposited in banks, it would doubtless have been more convenient for the pirates. before the citizens returned morgan made a discovery: a negro was captured who carried letters from the governor of santiago, a neighboring city, to some of the citizens of port-au-prince, telling them not to be in too great a hurry to pay the ransom demanded by the pirates, because he was coming with a strong force to their assistance. when morgan read these letters, he changed his mind, and thought it would be a wise thing not to stay in that region any longer than could be helped. so he decided not to wait for the unfortunate citizens to collect the heavy ransom he demanded, but told them that if they would furnish him with five hundred head of cattle, and also supply salt and help prepare the meat for shipment, he would make no further demands upon them. this, of course, the citizens were glad enough to do, and when the buccaneers had carried to the ships everything they had stolen, and when the beef had been put on board, they sailed away. morgan directed the course of the fleet to a small island on which he wished to land in order that they might take an account of stock and divide the profits. this the pirates always did as soon as possible after they had concluded one of their nefarious enterprises. but his men were not at all satisfied with what happened on the island. morgan estimated the total value of the booty to be about fifty thousand dollars, and when this comparatively small sum was divided, many of the men complained that it would not give them enough to pay their debts in jamaica. they were utterly astonished that after having sacked an entirely fresh town they should have so little, and there is no doubt that many of them believed that their leader was a man who carried on the business of piracy for the purpose of enriching himself, while he gave his followers barely enough to keep them quiet. there was, however, another cause of discontent among a large body of the men; it appears that the men were very fond of marrow-bones, and while they were yet at port-au-prince and the prisoners were salting the meat which was to go on the ships, the buccaneers went about among them and took the marrow-bones which they cooked and ate while they were fresh. one of the men, a frenchman, had selected a very fine bone, and had put it by his side while he was preparing some other tidbits, when an englishman came along, picked up the bone, and carried it away. now even in the chronicles of mother goose we are told of the intimate connection between welshmen, thievery, and marrow-bones; for "taffy was a welshman, taffy was a thief, taffy came to my house and stole a leg of beef. "i went to taffy's house, taffy wasn't home, taffy went to my house, and stole a marrow-bone." what happened to taffy we do not know, but morgan was a welshman, morgan was a thief, and one of his men had stolen a marrow-bone; therefore came trouble. the frenchman challenged the englishman; but the latter, being a mean scoundrel, took advantage of his opponent, unfairly stabbed him in the back and killed him. now all the frenchmen in the company rose in furious protest, and morgan, wishing to pacify them, had the english assassin put in chains, and promised that he would take him to jamaica and deliver him to justice. but the frenchmen declined to be satisfied; they had received but very little money after they had pillaged a rich town, and they believed that their english companions were inclined to take advantage of them in every way, and consequently the greater part of them banded together and deliberately deserted morgan, who was obliged to go back to jamaica with not more than half his regular forces, doubtless wishing that the cattle on the island of cuba had been able to get along without marrow-bones. chapter xvii how morgan was helped by some religious people when the welsh buccaneer started out on another expedition his company consisted entirely of englishmen, and was not nearly so large as it had been; when he announced to his followers that he intended to attack the fortified town of porto bello, on the mainland, there was a general murmuring among the men, for porto bello was one of the strongest towns possessed by the spaniards, and the buccaneers did not believe that their comparatively small force would be able to take it. but morgan made them a speech in which he endeavored to encourage them to follow him in this difficult undertaking. one of his arguments was, that although their numbers were small, their hearts were large; but he produced the greatest effect upon them when he said that as they were but a few, each man's share of the booty would be much larger than if it must be divided among a great number. this touched the souls of the pirates, and they vowed to follow their leader wherever he might take them. the buccaneers found porto bello a very hard nut to crack; they landed and marched upon the town, which was defended by several forts or castles. even when one of these had been taken by assault, and after it had been blown up with all its garrison, who had been taken prisoners, still the town was not intimidated, and the governor vowed he would never surrender, but would die fighting to the last. the pirates raged like demons; they shot down every man they could see at the cannon or upon the walls, and they made desperate efforts to capture the principal fort, but they did not succeed, and after a long time morgan began to despair. the garrison was strong and well commanded, and whenever the pirates attempted to scale the wall they were shot down, while fire-pots full of powder, with stones and other missiles, were hurled upon them. at last the wily morgan had an idea. he set his men to work to make some ladders high enough to reach to the top of the walls, and wide enough to allow three or four men to go up abreast. if he could get these properly set up, his crew of desperate tiger-cats could make a combined rush and get over the walls. but to carry the ladders and place them would be almost impossible, for the men who bore them would surely be shot down before they could finish the work. but it was not morgan's plan that his men should carry these ladders. he had captured some convents in the suburbs of the town, with a number of nuns and monks, known as "religious people," and he now ordered these poor creatures, the women as well as the men, to take up the ladders and place them against the walls, believing that the spanish governor would not allow his soldiers to fire at these innocent persons whom the pirates had forced to do their will. but the governor was determined to defend the town no matter who had to suffer, and so the soldiers fired at the nuns and monks just as though they were buccaneers or any other enemies. the "religious people" cried out in terror, and screamed to their friends not to fire upon them; but the soldiers obeyed the commands of the governor, while the pirates were swearing terribly behind them and threatening them with their pistols, and so the poor nuns and monks had to press forward, many of them dropping dead or wounded. they continued their work until the ladders were placed, and then over the walls went the pirates, with yells and howls of triumph, and not long after that the town was taken. the governor died, fighting in the principal fort, and the citizens and soldiers all united in the most vigorous defence; but it was of no use. each pirate seemed to have not only nine lives, but nine arms, each one wielding a cutlass or aiming a pistol. when the fighting was over, the second act in the horrible drama took place as usual. the pirates ate, drank, rioted, and committed all manner of outrages and cruelties upon the inhabitants, closing the performance with the customary threat that if the already distressed and impoverished inhabitants did not pay an enormous ransom, their town would be burned. before the ransom was paid, the governor of panama heard what was going on at porto bello, and sent a force to the assistance of the town, but this time the buccaneers did not hastily retreat, morgan knew of a narrow defile through which the spanish forces must pass, and there he posted a number of his men, who defended the pass so well that the spaniards were obliged to retreat. this governor must have been a student of military science; he was utterly astounded when he heard that this pirate leader, with less than four hundred men, had captured the redoubtable town of porto bello, defended by a strong garrison and inhabited by citizens who were brave and accustomed to fighting, and, being anxious to increase his knowledge of improved methods of warfare, he sent a messenger to morgan "desiring him to send him some small pattern of those arms wherewith he had taken with such violence so great a city." the pirate leader received the messenger with much courtesy, and sent to the governor a pistol and a few balls, "desiring him to accept that slender pattern of the arms wherewith he had taken porto bello, and keep them for a twelvemonth; after which time he promised to come to panama and fetch them away." this courteous correspondence was continued by the governor returning the pistol and balls with thanks, and also sending morgan a handsome gold ring with the message that he need not trouble himself to come to panama; for, if he did, he would meet with very different fortune from that which had come to him at porto bello. morgan put the ring on his finger and postponed his reply, and, as soon as the ransom was paid, he put his booty on board his ships and departed. when the spoils of porto bello came to be counted, it was found that they were of great value, and each man received a lordly share. when captain morgan was ready to set out on another expedition, he found plenty of pirates ready to join him, and he commanded all the ships and men whom he enlisted to rendezvous at a place called the isle of cows. a fine, large, english ship had recently come to jamaica from new england, and this vessel also joined morgan's forces on the island, where the pirate leader took this ship as his own, being much the best and largest vessel of the fleet. besides the ships belonging to morgan, there was in the harbor where they were now congregated, a fine vessel belonging to some french buccaneers, and morgan desired very much that this vessel should join his fleet, but the french cherished hard feelings against the english, and would not join them. although morgan was a brave man, his meanness was quite equal to his courage, and he determined to be revenged upon these frenchmen who had refused to give him their aid, and therefore played a malicious trick upon them. sometime before, this french vessel, being out of provisions when upon the high seas, had met an english ship, and had taken from her such supplies as it had needed. the captain did not pay for these, being out of money as well as food, not an uncommon thing among buccaneers, but they gave the english notes of exchange payable in jamaica; but as these notes were never honored, the people of the english ship had never been paid for their provisions. this affair properly arranged in morgan's mind, he sent a very polite note to the captain of the french ship and some of his officers, inviting them to dine with him on his own vessel. the french accepted the invitation, but when morgan received them on board his ship he did not conduct them down to dinner; instead of that, he began to upbraid them for the manner in which they had treated an english crew, and then he ordered them to be taken down below and imprisoned in the hold. having accomplished this, and feeling greatly elated by this piece of sly vengeance, he went into his fine cabin, and he and his officers sat down to the grand feast he had prepared. there were fine times on board this great english ship; the pirates were about to set forth on an important expedition, and they celebrated the occasion by eating and drinking, firing guns, and all manner of riotous hilarity. in the midst of the wild festivities--and nobody knew how it happened--a spark of fire got into the powder magazine, and the ship blew up, sending the lifeless bodies of three hundred english sailors, and the french prisoners, high into the air. the only persons on board who escaped were morgan and his officers who were in the cabin close to the stern of the vessel, at some distance from the magazine. this terrible accident threw the pirate fleet into great confusion for a time; but morgan soon recovered himself, and, casting about to see what was the best thing to be done, it came into his head that he would act the part of the wolf in the fable of the wolf and the lamb. as there was no way of finding out how the magazine happened to explode, he took the ground that the french prisoners whom he had shut up in the hold, had thrown a lighted match into the magazine, wishing thus to revenge themselves even though they should, at the same time, lose their own lives. the people of the french ship bitterly opposed any such view of the case, but their protestations were of no use; they might declare as much as they pleased that it was impossible for them to make the waters muddy, being lower down in the stream than the wolfish pirate who was accusing them, but it availed nothing. morgan sprang upon them and their ship, and sent them to jamaica, where, upon his false charge, they were shut up in prison, and so remained for a long time. such atrocious wickedness as the treatment of the nuns and monks, described in this chapter, would never have been countenanced in any warfare between civilized nations. but morgan's pirates were not making war; they were robbers and murderers on a grand scale. they had no right to call themselves civilized; they were worse than barbarians. [illustration: "morgan began to upbraid them, and ordered them taken below."--p. .] chapter xviii a piratical aftermath morgan's destination was the isle of savona, near which a great spanish fleet was expected to pass, and here he hoped to make some rich prizes. but when he got out to sea he met with contrary and dangerous winds, which delayed him a long time, and eventually when he arrived at savona, after having landed at various places, where he pillaged, murdered, and burned, according to the extent of his opportunities, he found at least one-half of his men and ships had not arrived. with the small force which he now had with him he could not set out to attack a spanish fleet, and therefore he was glad to accept the suggestion made to him by a frenchman who happened to be in his company. this man had been with l'olonnois two years before when that bloody pirate had sacked the towns of maracaibo and gibraltar; he had made himself perfectly familiar with the fortifications and defences of these towns, and he told morgan that it would be easy to take them. to be sure they had been thoroughly sacked before, and therefore did not offer the tempting inducements of perfectly fresh towns, such as port-au-prince, but still in two years the inhabitants must have gathered together some possessions desirable to pirates, and therefore, although morgan could not go to these towns with the expectation of reaping a full harvest, he might at least gather up an aftermath which would pay him for his trouble. so away sailed this horde of ravenous scoundrels for the lake of maracaibo, at the outer end of which lay the town of maracaibo, and at the other extremity the town of gibraltar. when they had sailed near enough to the fortifications they anchored out of sight of the watch-tower and, landing in the night, marched on one of the forts. here the career of morgan came very near closing forever. the spaniards had discovered the approach of the pirates, and this fort had been converted into a great trap in which the citizens hoped to capture and destroy the pirate leader and his men. everybody had left the fort, the gates were open, and a slow-match, communicating with the magazine, had been lighted just before the last spaniard had left. but the oldest and most sagacious of rats would be no more difficult to entrap than was the wily pirate morgan. when he entered the open gates of the fort and found everything in perfect order, he suspected a trick, and looking about him he soon saw the smouldering match. instantly he made a dash at it, seized it and extinguished the fire. had he been delayed in this discovery a quarter of an hour longer, he and his men would have been blown to pieces along with the fort. now the pirates pressed on toward the town, but they met with no resistance. the spaniards, having failed to blow up their dreaded enemies, had retreated into the surrounding country and had left the town. the triumphant pirates spread themselves everywhere. they searched the abandoned town for people and valuables, and every man who cared to do so took one of the empty houses for his private residence. they made the church the common meeting-place where they might all gather together when it was necessary, and when they had spent the night in eating and drinking all the good things they could find, they set out the next day to hunt for the fugitive citizens. for three weeks morgan and his men held a devil's carnival in maracaibo. to tell of the abominable tortures and cruelties which they inflicted upon the poor people, whom they dragged from their hiding-places in the surrounding country, would make our flesh creep and our blood run cold. when they could do no more evil they sailed away up the lake for gibraltar. it is not necessary to tell the story of the taking of this town. when morgan arrived there he found it also entirely deserted. the awful dread of the human beasts who were coming upon them had forced the inhabitants to fly. in the whole town only one man was left, and he was an idiot who had not sense enough to run away. this poor fellow was tortured to tell where his treasures were hid, and when he consented to take them to the place where he had concealed his possessions, they found a few broken earthen dishes, and a little bit of money, about as much as a poor imbecile might be supposed to possess. thereupon the disappointed fiends cruelly killed him. for five weeks the country surrounding gibraltar was the scene of a series of diabolical horrors. the pirates undertook the most hazardous and difficult expeditions in order to find the people who had hidden themselves on islands and in the mountains, and although they obtained a great deal of booty, they met with a good many misfortunes. some of them were drowned in swollen streams, and others lost much of their pillage by rains and storms. at last, after having closed his vile proceedings in the ordinary pirate fashion, by threatening to burn the town if he were not paid a ransom, morgan thought it time for him to depart, for if the spaniards should collect a sufficient force at maracaibo to keep him from getting out of the lake, he would indeed be caught in a trap. the ransom was partly paid and partly promised, and morgan and his men departed, carrying with them some hostages for the rest of the ransom due. when morgan and his fleet arrived at maracaibo, they found the town still deserted, but they also discovered that they were caught in the trap which they had feared, out of which they saw no way of escaping. news had been sent the spanish forces; of the capture and sacking of maracaibo, and three large men-of-war now lay in the channel below the town which led from the lake into the sea. and more than this, the castle which defended the entrance to the lake, and which the pirates had found empty when they arrived, was now well manned and supplied with a great many cannon, so that for once in their lives these wicked buccaneers were almost discouraged. their little ships could not stand against the men-of-war; and in any case they could not pass the castle, which was now prepared to blow them to pieces if they should come near enough. but in the midst of these disheartening circumstances, the pirate leader showed what an arrogant, blustering dare-devil he was, for, instead of admitting his discomfiture and trying to make terms with the spaniards, he sent a letter to the admiral of the ships, in which he stated that if he did not allow him a free passage out to sea he would burn every house in maracaibo. to this insolent threat, the spanish admiral replied in a long letter, in which he told morgan that if he attempted to leave the lake he would fire upon his ships, and, if necessary, follow them out to sea, until not a stick of one of them should be left. but in the great magnanimity of his soul he declared that he would allow morgan to sail away freely, provided he would deliver all the booty he had captured, together with the prisoners and slaves, and promise to go home and abandon buccaneering forever. in case he declined these terms, the admiral declared he would come up the channel in boats filled with his soldiers and put every pirate to the sword. when morgan received this letter, he called his men together in the public square of the town, and asked them what they would do, and when these fellows heard that they were asked to give up all their booty, they unanimously voted that they would perish rather than do such an unmanly thing as that. so it was agreed that they would fight themselves out of the lake of maracaibo, or stay there, dead or alive, as the case might be. chapter xix a tight place for morgan at this important crisis again turned up the man with an idea. this was an inventive buccaneer, who proposed to morgan that they should take a medium-sized ship which they had captured at the other end of the lake, and make a fire-ship of her. in order that the spaniards might not suspect the character of this incendiary craft, he proposed that they should fit her up like one of the pirate war-vessels, for in this case the spaniards would not try to get away from her, but would be glad to have her come near enough for them to capture her. morgan was pleased with this plan, and the fire-ship was prepared with all haste. all the pitch, tar, and brimstone in the town were put on board of her, together with other combustibles. on the deck were placed logs of wood, which were dressed up in coats and hats to look like men, and by their sides were muskets and cutlasses. portholes were made, and in these were placed other logs to represent cannon. thus this merchant vessel, now as inflammable as a pine knot, was made to resemble a somewhat formidable pirate ship. the rest of the fleet was made ready, the valuables and prisoners and slaves were put on board; and they all sailed boldly down toward the spanish vessels, the fire-ship in front. when the spanish admiral saw this insignificant fleet approaching, he made ready to sink it to the bottom, and when the leading vessel made its way directly toward his own ship, as if with the impudent intention of boarding her, he did not fire at her, but let her come on. the few pirates on board the fire-ship ran her up against the side of the great man-of-war; and after making her fast and applying their matches, they immediately slipped overboard, and swam to one of their own vessels before the spaniards had an idea of what had happened. the fire-ship was soon ablaze, and as the flames quickly spread, the large vessel took fire, and the people on board had scarcely time to get out of her before she sank. the commander of one of the other ships was so much frightened by what had occurred in so short a space of time that he ran his vessel aground and wrecked her, her men jumping out into the water and making for the land. as for the other ship, the pirates boldly attacked her and captured her, and as she was a very fine vessel, morgan left his own small vessel, in which he had been commanding his fleet, and took possession of her. thus, in a very short time, the whole state of affairs was changed. the spaniards had no ships at all, and morgan was in command of a very fine vessel, in which he led his triumphant fleet. victory is a grand thing to a pirate as it is to every human being who has been engaged in a conflict, but none of the joys of triumph could equal the sordid rapacity of morgan and his men. they spent days in trying to recover the money and plate which were on board the sunken spanish ships. the sterns of these projected above water, and a great deal of valuable treasure was recovered from them. the pirates worked very hard at this, although they had not the slightest idea how they were to pass the castle and get away with the plunder after they had obtained it. when the wrecks had been stripped of everything of value, the time came for demanding a ransom for not burning the town and hanging the prisoners, and as the poor citizens knew very well what they might expect, they sent word to the admiral, who had escaped to the castle, begging him to accede to the demands of morgan, and to let the wretched pirates go. but the admiral, don alonso, was a thoroughbred spaniard, and he would listen to no such cowardly suggestion. he would consent to no ransom being paid, and on no account would he allow the pirates to pass the channel. the citizens, however, who knew what was good for them, raised the money, and paid the ransom in coin and cattle, and morgan declared that if the admiral would not let him out of the lake, he would have to attend to that matter himself. but before he made another bold stroke against the enemy his stingy and niggardly spirit urged him to defend himself against his friends, and before endeavoring to leave he ordered a division of the spoils. many of the goods taken from the two towns were on board the different vessels of the fleet, and he was very much afraid that if his comrades, who commanded the other ships, should be so fortunate as to get out to sea, they would sail away with the booty they carried, and he would not see any of it. therefore, the booty from every ship was brought on board his own fine vessel, and every man was put through an examination as rigid as if he had been passing a custom house, and was obliged to prove that he had not concealed or kept back any money or jewels. the value of the plunder was very great, and when it had been divided, according to the scale which morgan had adopted, the pirate leader felt safe. he now had his share of the prizes in his own possession, and that to him was more important than anything else in the world. the question of getting away was a very serious one; the greater part of his fleet consisted of small vessels which could not defy the guns of the fort, and as the stout hearts and brawny arms of his followers could be of no use to him in this dilemma, morgan was obliged to fall back upon his own brains; therefore, he planned a trick. when everything had been prepared for departure, morgan anchored his fleet at a distance from the castle, but not so far away that the spaniards could not observe his movements. then he loaded some boats with armed men and had them rowed ashore on the side of the channel on which the castle stood. the boats landed behind a little wood, and there the men, instead of getting out, crouched themselves down in the bottom of the boats so that they should not be seen. then the boats, apparently empty, were rowed back to the pirate ships, and in a short time, again full of men sitting, upright, with their muskets and cutlasses, they went to the shore, and soon afterwards returned apparently empty as before. this performance was repeated over and over again, until the people in the castle were convinced that morgan was putting his men on shore in order to make a land attack upon the rear of the castle during the night. but the spanish admiral was not to be caught by any such clumsy stratagem as that, and, therefore, in great haste he had his big cannon moved to the land side of the fort, and posted there the greater part of his garrison in order that when the pirates made their assault in the dead of the night they would meet with a reception for which they had not bargained. when it was dark, and the tide began to run out, the pirate vessels weighed anchor, and they all drifted down toward the castle. morgan's spies had perceived some of the extraordinary movements in the spanish fortifications, and he therefore drifted down with a good deal of confidence, although, had his trick been discovered in time it would have gone very hard with his fleet. it is probable that he had taken all these chances into consideration and had felt pretty sure that if the cannon of the fort had been opened upon them it would not have been the big ship which carried him and his precious load which would have been sunk by the great guns, and that no matter what happened to the smaller vessels and the men on board them, he and his own ship would be able to sail away. but the spaniards did not perceive the approach of the drifting fleet, for they were intrepidly waiting at the back of the castle to make it very hot for the pirates when they should arrive. slowly past the great walls of the fort drifted the fleet of buccaneers, and then, at a signal, every vessel hoisted its sails, and, with a good wind, sailed rapidly toward the open sea. the last pirate vessel had scarcely passed the fort when the spaniards discovered what was going on, and in great haste they rolled their cannon back to the water side of the fort and began firing furiously, but it was of no use. the pirates sailed on until they were out of danger, and then they anchored and arranged for putting on shore the greater number of their prisoners, who were only an encumbrance to them. as a parting insult, morgan fired seven or eight of his largest guns at the castle, whose humiliated occupants did not reply by a single shot. in order to understand what thoroughly contemptible scoundrels these pirates were it may be stated that when morgan and his men reached jamaica after a good deal of storm and trouble on the way, they found there many of their comrades who had not been able to join them at their rendezvous at savona. these unfortunate fellows, who had not known where morgan had gone and were unable to join him, had endeavored to do some piratical business of their own, but had had very little luck and a great many misfortunes. morgan's men, with their pockets full of money, jeered and sneered at their poor comrades who had had such hard times, and without any thought of sharing with them the least portion of their own vile gains they treated them with contempt and derision. the buccaneer, captain henry morgan, was now a very great personage, but with his next expedition, which was a very important one, and in its extent resembled warfare rather than piracy, we shall have little to do because his exploits in this case were not performed on our atlantic coasts, but over the isthmus, on the shores of the pacific. morgan raised a great fleet, carrying a little army of two thousand men, and with this he made his way to the other side of the isthmus and attacked the city of panama, which, of course, he captured. his terrible deeds at this place resembled those which he performed after the capture of the smaller towns which we have been considering, except that they were on a scale of greater magnitude. nearly the whole of the town of panama was burned, and the excesses, cruelties, and pillages of the conquerors were something almost without parallel. before marching overland to panama, morgan had recaptured the island of st. catherine, which was a very valuable station for his purposes, and had also taken the castle of chagres on the mainland near by, and on his return from the conquest and pillage of the unfortunate city he and his forces gathered together at chagres in order to divide the spoils. now came great trouble and dissatisfaction; many of the buccaneers loudly declared that morgan was taking everything that was really valuable for his own, especially the precious stones and jewels, and that they were getting a very small share of the booty of panama. there seemed to be good reason for these complaints, for the sum of about two hundred dollars apiece was all that morgan's men received after their terrible hardships and dangers and the pillage of a very rich town. the murmurings and complaints against morgan's peculiar methods became louder and more frequent, and at last the wily welshman began to be afraid that serious trouble would come to him if he did not take care of himself. this, however, he was very capable of doing. silently and quietly one night, without giving notice to any of the buccaneers at chagres, except a few who were in his secret, morgan, in his large ship, sailed away for jamaica, followed by only a few other vessels, containing some of his favored companions. when the great body of the buccaneers, the principal portion of which were frenchmen, found that their leader had deserted them, there was a grand commotion, and if they had been able, the furious men who had had this trick played upon them, would have followed morgan to treat him as they had so often treated the spaniards. but they could not follow--morgan had taken great care that this should not happen. their ships were out of order; they had been left very short of provisions and ammunition, and found that not only were they unable to avenge themselves on their traitor leader, but that it would be very hard for them to get away at all. poor esquemeling, the literary pirate, was one of those who was left behind, and in his doleful state he made the following reflection, which we quote from his book: "captain morgan left us all in such a miserable condition as might serve for a lively representation of what rewards attend wickedness at the latter end of life. whence we ought to have learned how to regulate and amend our actions for the future." after morgan had safely reached jamaica with all his booty, the idea renewed itself in his mind of returning to st. catherine, fortifying the place and putting it in complete order, and then occupying it as a station for all pirates, with himself the supreme governor and king of the buccaneers. but before he had completed his arrangements for doing this there was a change in the affairs at jamaica: the king of england, having listened to the complaints of the spanish crown, had recalled the former governor and put him on trial to answer for the manner in which he allowed the island to be used by the pirates for their wicked purposes against a friendly nation, and had sent a new governor with orders to allow no buccaneers in jamaica, and in every way to suppress piracy in those parts. now the shrewd morgan saw that his present business was likely to become a very undesirable one, and he accordingly determined to give it up. having brutally pillaged and most cruelly treated the spaniards as long as he was able to do so, and having cheated and defrauded his friends and companions to the utmost extent possible, he made up his mind to reform, and a more thoroughly base and contemptible reformed scoundrel was never seen on the face of the earth. morgan was now a rich man, and he lost no time in becoming very respectable. he endeavored to win favor with the new governor, and was so successful that when that official was obliged to return to england on account of his health, he left the ex-pirate in charge of the affairs of the island in the capacity of deputy-governor. more than this, king charles, who apparently had heard of morgan's great bravery and ability, and had not cared to listen to anything else about him, knighted him, and this preëminent and inhuman water-thief became sir henry morgan. in his new official capacity morgan was very severe upon his former associates, and when any of them were captured and brought before him, he condemned some to be imprisoned and some to be hung, and in every way apparently endeavored to break up the unlawful business of buccaneering. about this time john esquemeling betook himself to europe with all possible despatch, for he had work to do and things to tell with which the deputy-governor would have no sympathy whatever. he got away safely, and he wrote his book, and if he had not had this good fortune, the world would have lost a great part of the story of what happened to the soft little baby who was born among the quiet green fields of wales. even during the time that he was deputy-governor, morgan was suspected of sharing in the gains of some buccaneers at the same time that he punished others, and after the death of charles ii. he was sent to england and imprisoned, but what eventually became of him we do not know. if he succeeded in ill-using and defrauding his satanic majesty, there is no record of the fact. chapter xx the story of a high-minded pirate after having considered the extraordinary performances of so many of those execrable wretches, the buccaneers, it is refreshing and satisfactory to find that there were exceptions even to the rules which governed the conduct and general make-up of the ordinary pirate of the period, and we are therefore glad enough to tell the story of a man, who, although he was an out-and-out buccaneer, possessed some peculiar characteristics which give him a place of his own in the history of piracy. in the early part of these sketches we have alluded to a gentleman of france, who, having become deeply involved in debt, could see no way of putting himself in a condition to pay his creditors but to go into business of some kind. he had no mercantile education, he had not learned any profession, and it was therefore necessary for him to do something for which a previous preparation was not absolutely essential. after having carefully considered all the methods of making money which were open to him under the circumstances, he finally concluded to take up piracy and literature. even at the present day it is considered by many persons that one of these branches of industry is a field of action especially adapted to those who have not had the opportunity of giving the time and study necessary in any other method of making a living. the french gentleman whose adventures we are about to relate was a very different man from john esquemeling, who was a literary pirate and nothing more. being of a clerkly disposition, the gentle john did not pretend to use the sabre or the pistol. his part in life was simply to watch his companions fight, burn, and steal, while his only weapon was his pen, with which he set down their exploits and thereby murdered their reputations. but monsieur raveneau de lussan was both buccaneer and author, and when he had finished his piratical career he wrote a book in which he gave a full account of it, thus showing that although he had not been brought up to a business life, he had very good ideas about money-making. more than that, he had very good ideas about his own reputation, and instead of leaving his exploits and adventures to be written up by other people,--that is, if any one should think it worth while to do so,--he took that business into his own hands. he was well educated, he had been brought up in good society, and as he desired to return to that society it was natural for him to wish to paint his own portrait as a buccaneer. pictures of that kind as they were ordinarily executed were not at all agreeable to the eyes of the cultivated classes of france, and so m. de lussan determined to give his personal attention not only to his business speculations, but to his reputation. he went out as a buccaneer in order to rob the spaniards of treasure with which to pay his honest debts, and, in order to prevent his piratical career being described in the coarse and disagreeable fashion in which people generally wrote about pirates, he determined to write his own adventures. if a man wishes to appear well before the world, it is often a very good thing for him to write his autobiography, especially if there is anything a little shady in his career, and it may be that de lussan's reputation as a high-minded pirate depends somewhat on the book he wrote after he had put down the sword and taken up the pen; but if he gave a more pleasing color to his proceedings than they really deserved, we ought to be glad of it. for, even if de lussan the buccaneer was in some degree a creature of the imagination of de lussan the author, we have a story which is much more pleasing and, in some respects, more romantic than stories of ordinary pirates could possibly be made unless the writer of such stories abandoned fact altogether and plunged blindly into fiction. among the good qualities of de lussan was a pious disposition. he had always been a religious person, and, being a catholic, he had a high regard and veneration for religious buildings, for priests, and for the services of the church, and when he had crossed the atlantic in his ship, the crew of which was composed of desperadoes of various nations, and when he had landed upon the western continent, he wished still to conform to the religious manners and customs of the old world. having a strong force under his command and possessing, in common with most of the gentlemen of that period, a good military education, it was not long after he landed on the mainland before he captured a small town. the resistance which he met was soon overcome, and our high-minded pirate found himself in the position of a conqueror with a community at his mercy. as his piety now raised itself above all his other attributes, the first thing that he did was to repair to the principal church of the town, accompanied by all his men, and here, in accordance with his commands, a te deum was sung and services were conducted by the priests in charge. then, after having properly performed his religious duties, de lussan sent his men through the town with orders to rob the inhabitants of everything valuable they possessed. the ransacking and pillaging of the houses continued for some time, but when the last of his men had returned with the booty they had collected, the high-minded chief was dissatisfied. the town appeared to be a good deal poorer than he had expected, and as the collection seemed to be so very small, de lussan concluded that in some way or other he must pass around the hat again. while he was wondering how he should do this he happened to hear that on a sugar plantation not very far away from the town there were some ladies of rank who, having heard of the approach of the pirates, had taken refuge there, thinking that even if the town should be captured, their savage enemies would not wander into the country to look for spoils and victims. but these ladies were greatly mistaken. when de lussan heard where they were, he sent out a body of men to make them prisoners and bring them back to him. they might not have any money or jewels in their possession, but as they belonged to good families who were probably wealthy, a good deal of money could be made out of them by holding them and demanding a heavy ransom for their release. so the ladies were all brought to town and shut up securely until their friends and relatives managed to raise enough money to pay their ransom and set them free, and then, i have no doubt, de lussan advised them to go to church and offer up thanks for their happy deliverance. as our high-minded pirate pursued his plundering way along the coast of south america, he met with a good many things which jarred upon his sensitive nature--things he had not expected when he started out on his new career. one of his disappointments was occasioned by the manners and customs of the english buccaneers under his command. these were very different from the frenchmen of his company, for they made not the slightest pretence to piety. when they had captured a town or a village, the englishmen would go to the churches, tear down the paintings, chop the ornaments from the altars with their cutlasses, and steal the silver crucifixes, the candlesticks, and even the communion services. such conduct gave great pain to de lussan. to rob and destroy the property of churches was in his eyes a great sin, and he never suffered anything of the kind if he could prevent it. when he found in any place which he captured a wealthy religious community or a richly furnished church, he scrupulously refrained from taking anything or of doing damage to property, and contented himself with demanding heavy indemnity, which the priests were obliged to pay as a return for the pious exemption which he granted them. but it was very difficult to control the englishmen. they would rob and destroy a church as willingly as if it were the home of a peaceful family, and although their conscientious commander did everything he could to prevent their excesses, he did not always succeed. if he had known what was likely to happen, his party would have consisted entirely of frenchmen. another thing which disappointed and annoyed the gentlemanly de lussan was the estimation in which the buccaneers were held by the ladies of the country through which he was passing. he soon found that the women in the spanish settlements had the most horrible ideas regarding the members of the famous "brotherhood of the coast." to be sure, all the spanish settlers, and a great part of the natives of the country, were filled with horror and dismay whenever they heard that a company of buccaneers was within a hundred miles of their homes, and it is not surprising that this was the case, for the stories of the atrocities and cruelties of these desperadoes had spread over the western world. but the women of the settlements looked upon the buccaneers with greater fear and abhorrence than the men could possibly feel, for the belief was almost universal among them that buccaneers were terrible monsters of cannibal habits who delighted in devouring human beings, especially if they happened to be young and tender. this ignorance of the true character of the invaders of the country was greatly deplored by de lussan. he had a most profound pity for those simple-minded persons who had allowed themselves to be so deceived in regard to the real character of himself and his men, and whenever he had an opportunity, he endeavored to persuade the ladies who fell in his way that sooner than eat a woman he would entirely abstain from food. on one occasion, when politely conducting a young lady to a place of confinement, where in company with other women of good family she was to be shut up until their relatives could pay handsome ransoms for their release, he was very much surprised when she suddenly turned to him with tears in her eyes, and besought him not to devour her. this astonishing speech so wounded the feelings of the gallant frenchman that for a moment he could not reply, and when he asked her what had put such an unreasonable fear in her mind, she could only answer that she thought he looked hungry, and that perhaps he would not be willing to wait until--and there she stopped, for she could not bring her mind to say--until she was properly prepared for the table. "what!" exclaimed the high-minded pirate. "do you suppose that i would eat you in the street?" and as the poor girl, who was now crying, would make him no answer, he fell into a sombre silence which continued until they had reached their destination. the cruel aspersions which were cast upon his character by the women of the country were very galling to the chivalrous soul of this gentleman of france, and in every way possible he endeavored to show the spanish ladies that their opinions of him were entirely incorrect, and even if his men were rather a hard lot of fellows, they were not cannibals. the high-minded pirate had now two principal objects before him. one was to lay his hand upon all the treasure he could find, and the other was to show the people of the country, especially the ladies, that he was a gentleman of agreeable manners and a pious turn of mind. it is highly probable that for some time the hero of this story did not succeed in his first object as well as he would have liked. a great deal of treasure was secured, but some of it consisted of property which could not be easily turned into cash or carried away, and he had with him a body of rapacious and conscienceless scoundrels who were continually clamoring for as large a share of the available spoils--such as jewels, money, and small articles of value--as they could induce their commander to allow them, and, in consequence of this greediness of his own men, his share of the plunder was not always as large as it ought to be. but in his other object he was very much more successful, and, in proof of this, we have only to relate an interesting and remarkable adventure which befell him. he laid siege to a large town, and, as the place was well defended by fortifications and armed men, a severe battle took place before it was captured. but at last the town was taken, and de lussan and his men having gone to church to give thanks for their victory,--his englishmen being obliged to attend the services no matter what they did afterward,--he went diligently to work to gather from the citizens their valuable and available possessions. in this way he was brought into personal contact with a great many of the people of the town, and among the acquaintances which he made was that of a young spanish lady of great beauty. the conditions and circumstances in the midst of which this lady found herself after the city had been taken, were very peculiar. she had been the wife of one of the principal citizens, the treasurer of the town, who was possessed of a large fortune, and who lived in one of the best houses in the place; but during the battle with the buccaneers, her husband, who fought bravely in defence of the place, was killed, and she now found herself not only a widow, but a prisoner in the hands of those ruthless pirates whose very name had struck terror into the hearts of the spanish settlers. plunged into misery and despair, it was impossible for her to foresee what was going to happen to her. as has been said, the religious services in the church were immediately followed by the pillage of the town; every house was visited, and the trembling inhabitants were obliged to deliver up their treasures to the savage fellows who tramped through their halls and rooms, swearing savagely when they did not find as much as they expected, and laughing with wild glee at any unusual discovery of jewels or coin. the buccaneer officers as well as the men assisted in gathering in the spoils of the town, and it so happened that m. raveneau de lussan, with his good clothes and his jaunty hat with a feather in it, selected the house of the late treasurer of the city as a suitable place for him to make his investigations. he found there a great many valuable articles and also found the beautiful young widow. the effect produced upon the mind of the lady when the captain of the buccaneers entered her house was a very surprising one. instead of beholding a savage, brutal ruffian, with ragged clothes and gleaming teeth, she saw a handsome gentleman, as well dressed as circumstances would permit, very polite in his manners, and with as great a desire to transact his business without giving her any more inconvenience than was necessary, as if he had been a tax-collector or had come to examine the gas meter. if all the buccaneers were such agreeable men as this one, she and her friends had been laboring under a great mistake. de lussan did not complete his examination of the treasurer's house in one visit, and during the next two or three days the young widow not only became acquainted with the character of buccaneers in general, but she learned to know this particular buccaneer very well, and to find out what an entirely different man he was from the savage fellows who composed his company. she was grateful to him for his kind manner of appropriating her possessions, she was greatly interested in his society,--for he was a man of culture and information,--and in less than three days she found herself very much in love with him. there was not a man in the whole town who, in her opinion, could compare with this gallant commander of buccaneers. it was not very long before de lussan became conscious of the favor he had found in the eyes of this lady; for as a buccaneer could not be expected to remain very long in one place, it was necessary, if this lady wished the captor of her money and treasure to know that he had also captured her heart, that she must not be slow in letting him know the state of her affections, and being a young person of a very practical mind she promptly informed de lussan that she loved him and desired him to marry her. the gallant frenchman was very much amazed when this proposition was made to him, which was in the highest degree complimentary. it was very attractive to him--but he could not understand it. the lady's husband had been dead but a few days--he had assisted in having the unfortunate gentleman properly buried--and it seemed to him very unnatural that the young widow should be in such an extraordinary hurry to prepare a marriage feast before the funeral baked meats had been cleared from the table. there was but one way in which he could explain to himself this remarkable transition from grief to a new affection. he believed that the people of this country were like their fruits and their flowers. the oranges might fall from the trees, but the blossoms would still be there. husband and wives or lovers might die, but in the tropical hearts of these people it was not necessary that new affections should be formed, for they were already there, and needed only some one to receive them. as he did not undertake his present expedition for the purpose of marrying ladies, no matter how beautiful they might be, it is quite natural that de lussan should not accept the proffered hand of the young widow. but when she came to detail her plans, he found that it would be well worth his while to carefully consider her project. the lady was by no means a thoughtless young creature, carried away by a sudden attachment. before making known to de lussan her preference for him above all other men, she had given the subject her most careful and earnest consideration, and had made plans which in her opinion would enable the buccaneer captain and herself to settle the matter to the satisfaction of all parties. when de lussan heard the lady's scheme, he was as much surprised by her businesslike ability as he had been by the declaration of her affection for him. she knew very well that he could not marry her and take her with him. moreover, she did not wish to go. she had no fancy for such wild expeditions and such savage companions. her plans were for peace and comfort and a happy domestic life. in a word, she desired that the handsome de lussan should remain with her. of course the gentleman opened his eyes very wide when he heard this, but she had a great deal to say upon the subject, and she had not omitted any of the details which would be necessary for the success of her scheme. the lady knew just as well as the buccaneer captain knew that the men under his command would not allow him to remain comfortably in that town with his share of the plunder, while they went on without a leader to undergo all sorts of hardships and dangers, perhaps defeat and death. if he announced his intention of withdrawing from the band, his enraged companions would probably kill him. consequently a friendly separation between himself and his buccaneer followers was a thing not to be thought of, and she did not even propose it. her idea was a very different one. just as soon as possible, that very night, de lussan was to slip quietly out of the town, and make his way into the surrounding country. she would furnish him with a horse, and tell him the way he should take, and he was not to stop until he had reached a secluded spot, where she was quite sure the buccaneers would not be able to find him, no matter how diligently they might search. when they had entirely failed in every effort to discover their lost captain, who they would probably suppose had been killed by wandering indians,--for it was impossible that he could have been murdered in the town without their knowledge,--they would give him up as lost and press on in search of further adventures. when the buccaneers were far away, and all danger from their return had entirely passed, then the brave and polite frenchman, now no longer a buccaneer, could safely return to the town, where the young widow would be most happy to marry him, to lodge him in her handsome house, and to make over to him all the large fortune and estates which had been the property of her late husband. this was a very attractive offer surely, a beautiful woman, and a handsome fortune. but she offered more than this. she knew that a gentleman who had once captured and despoiled the town might feel a little delicacy in regard to marrying and settling there and becoming one of its citizens, and therefore she was prepared to remove any objections which might be occasioned by such considerate sentiments on his part. she assured him that if he would agree to her plan, she would use her influence with the authorities, and would obtain for him the position of city treasurer, which her husband had formerly held. and when he declared that such an astounding performance must be utterly impossible, she started out immediately, and having interviewed the governor of the town and other municipal officers, secured their signature to a paper in which they promised that if m. de lussan would accept the proposals which the lady had made, he would be received most kindly by the officers and citizens of the town; that the position of treasurer would be given to him, and that all the promises of the lady should be made good. now our high-minded pirate was thrown into a great quandary, and although at first he had had no notion whatever of accepting the pleasant proposition which had been made to him by the young widow, he began to see that there were many good reasons why the affection, the high position, and the unusual advantages which she had offered to him might perhaps be the very best fortune which he could expect in this world. in the first place, if he should marry this charming young creature and settle down as a respected citizen and an officer of the town, he would be entirely freed from the necessity of leading the life of a buccaneer, and this life was becoming more and more repugnant to him every day,--not only on account of the highly disagreeable nature of his associates and their reckless deeds, but because the country was becoming aroused, and the resistance to his advances was growing stronger and stronger. in the next attack he made upon a town or village he might receive a musket ball in his body, which would end his career and leave his debts in france unpaid. more than that, he was disappointed, as has been said before, in regard to the financial successes he had expected. at that time he saw no immediate prospect of being able to go home with money enough in his pocket to pay off his creditors, and if he did not return to his native land under those conditions, he did not wish to return there at all. under these circumstances it seemed to be wise and prudent, that if he had no reason to expect to be able to settle down honorably and peaceably in france, to accept this opportunity to settle honorably, peaceably, and in every way satisfactorily in america. it is easy to imagine the pitching and the tossing in the mind of our french buccaneer. the more he thought of the attractions of the fair widow and of the wealth and position which had been offered him, the more he hated all thoughts of his piratical crew, and of the dastardly and cruel character of the work in which they were engaged. if he could have trusted the officers and citizens of the town, there is not much doubt that he would have married the widow, but those officers and citizens were spaniards, and he was a frenchman. a week before the inhabitants of the place had been prosperous, contented, and happy. now they had been robbed, insulted, and in many cases ruined, and he was commander of the body of desperadoes who had robbed and ruined them. was it likely that they would forget the injuries which he had inflicted upon them simply because he had married a wealthy lady of the town and had kindly consented to accept the office of city treasurer? it was much more probable that when his men had really left that part of the country the citizens would forget all their promises to him and remember only his conduct toward them, and that even if he remained alive long enough to marry the lady and take the position offered him, it would not be long before she was again a widow and the office vacant. so de lussan shut his eyes to the tempting prospects which were spread out before him, and preferring rather to be a live buccaneer than a dead city treasurer, he told the beautiful widow that he could not marry her and that he must go forth again into the hard, unsympathetic world to fight, to burn, to steal, and to be polite. then, fearing that if he remained he might find his resolution weakened, he gathered together his men and his pillage, and sadly went away, leaving behind him a joyful town and a weeping widow. if the affection of the young spanish lady for the buccaneer chief was sufficient to make her take an interest in his subsequent career, she would probably have been proud of him, for the ladies of those days had a high opinion of brave men and successful warriors. de lussan soon proved that he was not only a good fighter, but that he was also an able general, and his operations on the western coast of south america were more like military campaigns than ordinary expeditions of lawless buccaneers. he attacked and captured the city of panama, always an attractive prize to the buccaneer forces, and after that he marched down the western coast of south america, conquering and sacking many towns. as he now carried on his business in a somewhat wholesale way, it could not fail to bring him in a handsome profit, and in the course of time he felt that he was able to retire from the active practice of his profession and to return to france. but as he was going back into the circles of respectability, he wished to do so as a respectable man. he discarded his hat and plume, he threw away his great cutlass and his heavy pistols, and attired in the costume of a gentleman in society he prepared himself to enter again upon his old life. he made the acquaintance of some of the french colonial officers in the west indies, and obtaining from them letters of introduction to the treasurer-general of france, he went home as a gentleman who had acquired a fortune by successful enterprises in the new world. the pirate who not only possesses a sense of propriety and a sensitive mind, but is also gifted with an ability to write a book in which he describes his own actions and adventures, is to be credited with unusual advantages, and as raveneau de lussan possessed these advantages, he has come down to posterity as a high-minded pirate. chapter xxi exit buccaneer; enter pirate the buccaneers of the west indies and south america had grown to be a most formidable body of reckless freebooters. from merely capturing spanish ships, laden with the treasures taken from the natives of the new world, they had grown strong enough to attack spanish towns and cities. but when they became soldiers and marched in little armies, the patience of the civilized world began to weaken: panama, for instance, was an important spanish city; england was at peace with spain; therefore, when a military force composed mainly of englishmen, and led by a british subject, captured and sacked the said spanish city, england was placed in an awkward position; if she did not interfere with her buccaneers, she would have a quarrel to settle with spain. therefore it was that a new governor was sent to jamaica with strict orders to use every power he possessed to put down the buccaneers and to break up their organization, and it was to this end that he set a thief to catch thieves and empowered the ex-pirate, morgan, to execute his former comrades. but methods of conciliation, as well as threats of punishment, were used to induce the buccaneers to give up their illegal calling, and liberal offers were made to them to settle in jamaica and become law-abiding citizens. they were promised grants of land and assistance of various kinds in order to induce them to take up the legitimate callings of planters and traders. but these offers were not at all tempting to the brethren of the coast; from pirates _rampant_ to pirates _couchant_ was too great a change, and some of them, who found it impossible to embark on piratical cruises, on account of the increasing difficulties of fitting out vessels, returned to their original avocations of cattle-butchering and beef-drying, and some, it is said, chose rather to live among the wild indians and share their independent lives, than to bind themselves to any form of honest industry. the french had also been very active in suppressing the operations of their buccaneers, and now the brethren of the coast, considered as an organization for preying upon the commerce and settlers of spain, might be said to have ceased to exist. but it must not be supposed that because buccaneering had died out, that piracy was dead. if we tear down a wasps' nest, we destroy the abode of a fierce and pitiless community, but we scatter the wasps, and it is likely that each one of them, in the unrestricted and irresponsible career to which he has been unwillingly forced, will prove a much more angry and dangerous insect than he had ever been before. this is what happened to these buccaneers who would not give up a piratical life; driven away from jamaica, from san domingo, and even from tortuga, they retained a resting-place only at new providence, an island in the bahamas, and this they did not maintain very long. then they spread themselves all over the watery world. they were no longer buccaneers, they were no longer brothers of any sort or kind, they no longer set out merely to pillage and fight the spaniards, but their attacks were made upon people of every nation. english ships and french ships, once safe from them, were a welcome prey to these new pirates, unrestrained by any kind of loyalty, even by any kind of enmity. they were more rapacious, they were more cruel, they were more like fiends than they had ever been before. they were cowardly and they no longer proceeded against towns which might be defended, nor ran up alongside of a man-of-war to boldly board her in the very teeth of her guns. they confined themselves to attacks upon peaceable merchant vessels, often robbing them and then scuttling them, delighted with the spectacle of a ship, with all its crew, sinking hopelessly into the sea. the scene of piratical operations in america was now very much changed. the successors of the brothers of the coast, no longer united by any bonds of fellowship, but each pirate captain acting independently in his own wicked way, was coming up from the west indies to afflict the seacoast of our country. the old buccaneers knew all about our southern coast, for they were among the very first white men who ever set foot on the shores of north and south carolina before that region had been settled by colonists, and when the only inhabitants were the wild indians. these early buccaneers often used its bays and harbors as convenient ports of refuge, where they could anchor, divide spoils, take in fresh water, and stay as long as they pleased without fear of molestation. it was natural enough that when the spanish-hating buccaneer merged into the independent pirate, who respected no flag, and preyed upon ships of every nation, he should feel very much at home on the carolina coasts. as the country was settled, and charles town, now charleston, grew to be a port of considerable importance, the pirates felt as much at home in this region as when it was inhabited merely by indians. they frequently touched at little seaside settlements, and boldly sailed into the harbor of charles town. but, unlike the unfortunate citizens of porto bello or maracaibo, the american colonists were not frightened when they saw a pirate ship anchored in their harbors, for they knew its crew did not come as enemies, but as friendly traders. the early english colonists were not as prosperous as they might have been if the mother country had not been so anxious to make money out of them. they were not allowed to import goods from any country but england, and if they had products or crops to export, they must be sold to english merchants. for whatever they bought they had to pay the highest prices, and they could not send into the markets of the world to get the best value for their own productions. therefore it was that a pirate ship was a very welcome visitor in charles town harbor. she was generally loaded with goods, which, as they were stolen, her captain could afford to sell very cheaply indeed, and as there was always plenty of spanish gold on board, her crew was not apt to haggle very much in regard to the price of the spirits, the groceries, or the provisions which they bought from the merchants of the town. this friendly commerce between the pirates and the carolinians grew to be so extensive that at one time the larger part of the coin in circulation in those colonies consisted of spanish gold pieces, which had been brought in and used by the pirates for the purchase of goods. but a pirate is very seldom a person of discretion, who knows when to leave well enough alone, and so, instead of contenting themselves with robbing and capturing the vessels belonging to people whom their charles town friends and customers would look upon as foreigners, they boldly sailed up and down the coast, seeking for floating booty wherever they might find it, and when a pirate vessel commanded by an english captain and manned principally by an english crew, fell in with a big merchantman flying the english flag, they bore down upon that vessel, just as if it had been french, or spanish, or dutch, and if the crew were impertinent enough to offer any resistance, they were cut down and thrown overboard. at last the pirates became so swaggeringly bold and their captains so enterprising in their illegal trading that the english government took vigorous measures, not only to break up piracy, but to punish all colonists who should encourage the freebooters by commercial dealings with them. at these laws the pirates laughed, and the colonists winced, and there were many people in charles town who vowed that if the king wanted them to help him put down piracy, he must show them some other way of getting imported goods at reasonable prices. so the pirates went on capturing merchantmen whenever they had a chance, and the carolinians continued to look forward with interest to the bargain days which always followed the arrival of a pirate ship. but this state of things did not last, and the time came when the people of charles town experienced a change of mind. the planters were now growing large quantities of rice, and this crop became so valuable that the prosperity of the colonies greatly increased. and now the pirates also became very much interested in the rice crops, and when they had captured four or five vessels sailing out of charles town heavily laden with rice, the people of that town suddenly became aware of the true character of a pirate. he was now in their eyes an unmitigated scoundrel who not only stole goods from all nations, which he brought to them and sold at low prices, but he actually stole their goods, their precious rice which they were sending to england. the indignant citizens of charles town took a bold stand, and such a bold one it was that when part of a crew of pirates, who had been put ashore by their comrades on account of a quarrel, made their way to the town, thinking they could tell a tale of shipwreck and rely upon the friendship of their old customers, they were taken into custody, and seven out of the nine were hanged. the occasional repetition of such acts as this, and the exhibition of dangling pirates, hung up like scarecrows at the entrance of the harbors, dampened the ardor of the freebooters a good deal, and for some years they kept away from the harbor of charles town, which had once been to them such a friendly port. chapter xxii the great blackbeard comes upon the stage so long as the people of the carolinas were prosperous and able to capture and execute pirates who interfered with their trade the atlantic sea-robbers kept away from their ports, but this prosperity did not last. indian wars broke out, and in the course of time the colonies became very much weakened and impoverished, and then it was that the harbor of charles town began to be again interesting to the pirates. about this time one of the most famous of sea-robbers was harassing the atlantic coast of north america, and from new england to the west indies, he was known as the great pirate blackbeard. this man, whose real name was thatch, was a most terrible fellow in appearance as well as action. he wore a long, heavy, black beard, which it was his fancy to separate into tails, each one tied with a colored ribbon, and often tucked behind his ears. some of the writers of that day declared that the sight of this beard would create more terror in any port of the american seaboard than would the sudden appearance of a fiery comet. across his brawny breast he carried a sort of a sling in which hung not less than three pairs of pistols in leathern holsters, and these, in addition to his cutlass and a knife or two in his belt, made him a most formidable-looking fellow. some of the fanciful recreations of blackbeard show him to have been a person of consistent purpose. even in his hours of rest when he was not fighting or robbing, his savage soul demanded some interesting excitement. once he was seated at table with his mate and two or three sailors, and when the meal was over he took up a pair of pistols, and cocking them put them under the table. this peculiar action caused one of the sailors to remember very suddenly that he had something to do on deck, and he immediately disappeared. but the others looked at their captain in astonishment, wondering what he would do next. they soon found out; for crossing the pistols, still under the table, he fired them. one ball hit the mate in the leg, but the other struck no one. when asked what he meant by this strange action, he replied that if he did not shoot one of his men now and then they would forget what sort of a person he was. at another time he invented a game; he gathered his officers and crew together and told them that they were going to play that they were living in the lower regions. thereupon the whole party followed him down into the hold. the hatches and all the other openings were closed, and then blackbeard began to illuminate the scene with fire and brimstone. the sulphur burned, the fumes rose, a ghastly light spread over the countenances of the desperadoes, and very soon some of them began to gasp and cough and implore the captain to let in some fresh air, but blackbeard was bound to have a good game, and he proceeded to burn more brimstone. he laughed at the gasping fellows about him and declared that he would be just as willing to breathe the fumes of sulphur as common air. when at last he threw open the hatches, some of the men were almost dead, but their stalwart captain had not even sneezed. in the early part of the eighteenth century blackbeard made his headquarters in one of the inlets on the north carolina coast, and there he ruled as absolute king, for the settlers in the vicinity seemed to be as anxious to oblige him as the captains of the merchantmen sailing along the coast were anxious to keep out of his way. on one of his voyages blackbeard went down the coast as far as honduras, where he took a good many prizes, and as some of the crews of the captured vessels enlisted under him he sailed north with a stronger force than ever before, having a large ship of forty guns, three smaller vessels, and four hundred men. with this little fleet blackbeard made for the coast of south carolina, and anchored outside the harbor of charles town. he well understood the present condition of the place and was not in the least afraid that the citizens would hang him up on the shores of the bay. blackbeard began work without delay. several well-laden ships--the carolinians having no idea that pirates were waiting for them--came sailing out to sea and were immediately captured. one of these was a very important vessel, for it not only carried a valuable cargo, but a number of passengers, many of them people of note, who were on their way to england. one of these was a mr. wragg, who was a member of the council of the province. it might have been supposed that when blackbeard took possession of this ship, he would have been satisfied with the cargo and the money which he found on board, and having no use for prominent citizens, would have let them go their way; but he was a trader as well as a plunderer, and he therefore determined that the best thing to do in this case was to put an assorted lot of highly respectable passengers upon the market and see what he could get for them. he was not at the time in need of money or provisions, but his men were very much in want of medicines, so he decided to trade off his prisoners for pills, potions, plasters, and all sorts of apothecary's supplies. he put three of his pirates in a boat, and with them one of the passengers, a mr. marks, who was commissioned as blackbeard's special agent, with orders to inform the governor that if he did not immediately send the medicines required, amounting in value to about three hundred pounds, and if he did not allow the pirate crew of the boat to return in safety, every one of the prisoners would be hanged from the yard-arm of his ship. the boat rowed away to the distant town, and blackbeard waited two days for its return, and then he grew very angry, for he believed that his messengers had been taken into custody, and he came very near hanging mr. wragg and all his companions. but before he began to satisfy his vengeance, news came from the boat. it had been upset in the bay, and had had great trouble in getting to charles town, but it had arrived there at last. blackbeard now waited a day or two longer; but as no news came from mr. marks, he vowed he would not be trifled with by the impudent people of charles town, and swore that every man, woman, and child among the prisoners should immediately prepare to be hanged. of course the unfortunate prisoners in the pirate ship were in a terrible state of mind during the absence of mr. marks. they knew very well that they could expect no mercy from blackbeard if the errand should be unsuccessful, and they also knew that the charles town people would not be likely to submit to such an outrageous demand upon them; so they trembled and quaked by day and by night, and when at last they were told to get ready to be hanged, every particle of courage left them, and they proposed to blackbeard that if he would spare their lives, and that if it should turn out that their fellow-citizens had decided to sacrifice them for the sake of a few paltry drugs, they would take up the cause of the pirates; they would show blackbeard the best way to sail into the harbor, and they would join with him and his men in attacking the city and punishing the inhabitants for their hard-hearted treatment of their unfortunate fellow-citizens. this proposition pleased blackbeard immensely; it would have been like a new game to take mr. wragg to the town and make him fight his fellow-members of the council of the province, and so he rescinded his order for a general execution, and bade his prisoners prepare to join with his pirates when he should give the word for an assault upon their city. in the meantime there was a terrible stir in charles town. when the governor and citizens received the insolent and brutal message of blackbeard they were filled with rage as well as consternation, and if there had been any way of going out to sea to rescue their unhappy fellow-citizens, every able-bodied man in the town would have enlisted in the expedition. but they had no vessels of war, and they were not even in a position to arm any of the merchantmen in the harbor. it seemed to the governor and his council that there was nothing for them to do but to submit to the demands of blackbeard, for they very well knew that he was a scoundrel who would keep his word, and also that whatever they did must be done quickly, for there were the three swaggering pirates in the town, strutting about the streets as if they owned the place. if this continued much longer, it would be impossible to keep the infuriated citizens from falling upon these blustering rascals and bringing their impertinence to a summary end. if this should happen, it would be a terrible thing, for not only would mr. wragg and his companions be put to death, but the pirates would undoubtedly attack the town, which was in a very poor position for defence. consequently the drugs were collected with all possible haste, and mr. marks and the pirates were sent with them to blackbeard. we do not know whether or not that bedizened cutthroat was satisfied with the way things turned out; for having had the idea of going to charles town and obliging the prisoners to help him confiscate the drugs and chemicals, he may have preferred this unusual proceeding to a more commonplace transaction; but as the medicine had arrived he accepted it, and having secured all possible booty and money from the ships he had captured, and had stripped his prisoners of the greater part of their clothing, he set them on shore to walk to charles town as well as they could. they had a miserably difficult time, making their way through the woods and marshes, for there were women and children among them who were scarcely equal to the journey. one of the children was a little boy, the son of mr. wragg, who afterward became a very prominent man in the colonies. he rose to such a high position, not only among his countrymen, but in the opinion of the english government, that when he died, about the beginning of the revolution, a tablet to his memory was placed in westminster abbey, which is, perhaps, the first instance of such an honor being paid to an american. having now provided himself with medicines enough to keep his wild crew in good physical condition, no matter how much they might feast and frolic on the booty they had obtained from charles town, blackbeard sailed back to his north carolina haunts and took a long vacation, during which time he managed to put himself on very good terms with the governor and officials of the country. he had plenty of money and was willing to spend it, and so he was allowed to do pretty much as he pleased, provided he kept his purse open and did not steal from his neighbors. but blackbeard became tired of playing the part of a make-believe respectable citizen, and having spent the greater part of his money, he wanted to make some more. consequently he fitted out a small vessel, and declaring that he was going on a legitimate commercial cruise, he took out regular papers for a port in the west indies and sailed away, as if he had been a mild-mannered new england mariner going to catch codfish. the officials of the town of bath, from which he sailed, came down to the ship and shook hands with him and hoped he would have good success. after a moderate absence he returned to bath, bringing with him a large french merchant vessel, with no people on board, but loaded with a valuable cargo of sugar and other goods. this vessel he declared he had found deserted at sea, and he therefore claimed it as a legitimate prize. knowing the character of this bloody pirate, and knowing how very improbable it was that the captain and all the crew of a valuable merchant vessel, with nothing whatever the matter with her, would go out into their boats and row away, leaving their ship to become the property of any one who might happen along, it may seem surprising that the officials of bath appeared to have no doubt of the truth of blackbeard's story, and allowed him freely to land the cargo on the french ship and store it away as his own property. but people who consort with pirates cannot be expected to have very lively consciences, and although there must have been persons in the town with intelligence enough to understand the story of pitiless murder told by that empty vessel, whose very decks and masts must have been regarded as silent witnesses that her captain and crew did not leave her of their own free will, no one in the town interfered with the thrifty blackbeard or caused any public suspicion to fall upon the propriety of his actions. chapter xxiii a true-hearted sailor draws his sword feeling now quite sure that he could do what he pleased on shore as well as at sea, blackbeard swore more, swaggered more, and whenever he felt like it, sailed up and down the coast and took a prize or two to keep the pot boiling for himself and his men. on one of these expeditions he went to philadelphia, and having landed, he walked about to see what sort of a place it was, but the governor of the state, hearing of his arrival, quickly arranged to let him know that the quaker city allowed no black-hearted pirate, with a ribbon-bedecked beard, to promenade on chestnut and market streets, and promptly issued a warrant for the sea-robber's arrest. but blackbeard was too sharp and too old a criminal to be caught in that way, and he left the city with great despatch. the people along the coast of north carolina became very tired of blackbeard and his men. all sorts of depredations were committed on vessels, large and small, and whenever a ship was boarded and robbed or whenever a fishing-vessel was laid under contribution, blackbeard was known to be at the bottom of the business, whether he personally appeared or not. to have this busy pirate for a neighbor was extremely unpleasant, and the north carolina settlers greatly longed to get rid of him. it was of no use for them to ask their own state government to suppress this outrageous scoundrel, and although their good neighbor, south carolina, might have been willing to help them, she was too poor at that time and had enough to do to take care of herself. not knowing, or not caring for the strong feeling of the settlers against him, blackbeard continued in his wicked ways, and among other crimes he captured a small vessel and treated the crew in such a cruel and atrocious manner that the better class of north carolinians vowed they would stand him no longer, and they therefore applied to governor spotswood, of virginia, and asked his aid in putting down the pirates. the virginians were very willing to do what they could for their unfortunate neighbors. the legislature offered a reward for the capture of blackbeard or any of his men; but the governor, feeling that this was not enough, determined to do something on his own responsibility, for he knew very well that the time might come when the pirate vessels would begin to haunt virginia waters. there happened to be at that time two small british men-of-war in hampton roads, and although the governor had no authority to send these after the pirates, he fitted out two sloops at his own expense and manned them with the best fighting men from the war-vessels. one of the sloops he put under captain brand, and the other under captain maynard, both brave and experienced naval officers. all preparations were made with the greatest secrecy--for if blackbeard had heard of what was going on, he would probably have decamped--and then the two sloops went out to sea with a commission from the governor to capture blackbeard, dead or alive. this was a pretty heavy contract, but brand and maynard were courageous men and did not hesitate to take it. the virginians had been informed that the pirate captain and his men were on a vessel in ocracoke inlet, and when they arrived they found, to their delight, that blackbeard was there. when the pirates saw the two armed vessels sailing into the inlet, they knew very well that they were about to be attacked, and it did not take them long to get ready for a fight, nor did they wait to see what their enemy was about to do. as soon as the sloops were near enough, blackbeard, without waiting for any preliminary exercises, such as a demand for surrender or any nonsense of that sort, let drive at the intruders with eight heavily loaded cannon. now the curtain had been rung up, and the play began, and a very lively play it was. the guns of the virginians blazed away at the pirate ship, and they would have sent out boats to board her had not blackbeard forestalled them. boarding was always a favorite method of fighting with the pirates. they did not often carry heavy cannon, and even when they did, they had but little fancy for battles at long distances. what they liked was to meet foes face to face and cut them down on their own decks. in such combats they felt at home, and were almost always successful, for there were few mariners or sailors, even in the british navy, who could stand against these brawny, glaring-eyed dare-devils, who sprang over the sides of a vessel like panthers, and fought like bulldogs. blackbeard had had enough cannonading, and he did not wait to be boarded. springing into a boat with about twenty of his men, he rowed to the vessel commanded by maynard, and in a few minutes he and his pirates surged on board her. now there followed on the decks of that sloop one of the most fearful hand-to-hand combats known to naval history. pirates had often attacked vessels where they met with strong resistance, but never had a gang of sea-robbers fallen in with such bold and skilled antagonists as those who now confronted blackbeard and his crew. at it they went,--cut, fire, slash, bang, howl, and shout. steel clashed, pistols blazed, smoke went up, and blood ran down, and it was hard in the confusion for a man to tell friend from foe. blackbeard was everywhere, bounding from side to side, as he swung his cutlass high and low, and though many a shot was fired at him, and many a rush made in his direction, every now and then a sailor went down beneath his whirling blade. but the great pirate had not boarded that ship to fight with common men. he was looking for maynard, the commander. soon he met him, and for the first time in his life he found his match. maynard was a practised swordsman, and no matter how hard and how swiftly came down the cutlass of the pirate, his strokes were always evaded, and the sword of the virginian played more dangerously near him. at last blackbeard, finding that he could not cut down his enemy, suddenly drew a pistol, and was about to empty its barrels into the very face of his opponent, when maynard sent his sword-blade into the throat of the furious pirate; the great blackbeard went down upon his back on the deck, and in the next moment maynard put an end to his nefarious career. their leader dead, the few pirates who were left alive gave up the fight, and sprang overboard, hoping to be able to swim ashore, and the victory of the virginians was complete. the strength, toughness, and extraordinary vitality of these feline human beings, who were known as pirates, has often occasioned astonishment in ordinary people. their sun-tanned and hairy bodies seemed to be made of something like wire, leather, and india rubber, upon which the most tremendous exertions, and even the infliction of severe wounds, made but little impression. before blackbeard fell, he received from maynard and others no less than twenty-five wounds, and yet he fought fearlessly to the last, and when the panting officer sheathed his sword, he felt that he had performed a most signal deed of valor. when they had broken up the pirate nest in ocracoke inlet, the two sloops sailed to bath, where they compelled some of the unscrupulous town officials to surrender the cargo which had been stolen from the french vessel and stored in the town by blackbeard; then they sailed proudly back to hampton roads, with the head of the dreaded blackbeard dangling from the end of the bowsprit of the vessel he had boarded, and on whose deck he had discovered the fact, before unknown to him, that a well-trained, honest man can fight as well as the most reckless cutthroat who ever decked his beard with ribbons, and swore enmity to all things good. chapter xxiv a greenhorn under the black flag early in the eighteenth century there lived at bridgetown, in the island of barbadoes, a very pleasant, middle-aged gentleman named major stede bonnet. he was a man in comfortable circumstances, and had been an officer in the british army. he had retired from military service, and had bought an estate at bridgetown, where he lived in comfort and was respected by his neighbors. but for some reason or other this quiet and reputable gentleman got it into his head that he would like to be a pirate. there were some persons who said that this strange fancy was due to the fact that his wife did not make his home pleasant for him, but it is quite certain that if a man wants an excuse for robbing and murdering his fellow-beings he ought to have a much better one than the bad temper of his wife. but besides the general reasons why major bonnet should not become a pirate, and which applied to all men as well as himself, there was a special reason against his adoption of the profession of a sea-robber, for he was an out-and-out landsman and knew nothing whatever of nautical matters. he had been at sea but very little, and if he had heard a boatswain order his man to furl the keel, to batten down the shrouds, or to hoist the forechains to the topmast yard, he would have seen nothing out of the way in these commands. he was very fond of history, and very well read in the literature of the day. he was accustomed to the habits of good society, and knew a great deal about farming and horses, cows and poultry, but if he had been compelled to steer a vessel, he would not have known how to keep her bow ahead of her stern. but notwithstanding this absolute incapacity for such a life, and the absence of any of the ordinary motives for abandoning respectability and entering upon a career of crime, major bonnet was determined to become a pirate, and he became one. he had money enough to buy a ship and to fit her out and man her, and this he quietly did at bridgetown, nobody supposing that he was going to do anything more than start off on some commercial cruise. when everything was ready, his vessel slipped out of the harbor one night, and after he was sailing safely on the rolling sea he stood upon the quarter-deck and proclaimed himself a pirate. it might not be supposed that this was necessary, for the seventy men on board his ship were all desperate cutthroats, of various nationalities, whom he had found in the little port, and who knew very well what was expected of them when they reached the sea. but if stede bonnet had not proclaimed himself a pirate, it is possible that he might not have believed, himself, that he was one, and so he ran up the black flag, with its skeleton or skull and cross-bones, he girded on a great cutlass, and, folding his arms, he ordered his mate to steer the vessel to the coast of virginia. although bonnet knew so little about ships and the sea, and had had no experience in piracy, his men were practised seamen, and those of them who had not been pirates before were quite ready and very well fitted to become such; so when this green hand came into the waters of virginia he actually took two or three vessels and robbed them of their cargoes, burning the ships, and sending the crews on shore. this had grown to be a common custom among the pirates, who, though cruel and hard-hearted, had not the inducements of the old buccaneers to torture and murder the crews of the vessels which they captured. they could not hate human beings in general as the buccaneers hated the spaniards, and so they were a little more humane to their prisoners, setting them ashore on some island or desert coast, and letting them shift for themselves as best they might. this was called marooning, and was somewhat less heartless than the old methods of getting rid of undesirable prisoners by drowning or beheading them. as bonnet had always been rather conventional in his ideas and had respected the customs of the society in which he found himself, he now adopted all the piratical fashions of the day, and when he found himself too far from land to put the captured crew on shore, he did not hesitate to make them "walk the plank," which was a favorite device of the pirates whenever they had no other way of disposing of their prisoners. the unfortunate wretches, with their hands tied behind them, were compelled, one by one, to mount a plank which was projected over the side of the vessel and balanced like a see-saw, and when, prodded by knives and cutlasses, they stepped out upon this plank, of course it tipped up, and down they went into the sea. in this way, men, women, and children slipped out of sight among the waves as the vessel sailed merrily on. in one branch of his new profession bonnet rapidly became proficient. he was an insatiable robber and a cruel conqueror. he captured merchant vessels all along the coast as high up as new england, and then he came down again and stopped for a while before charles town harbor, where he took a couple of prizes, and then put into one of the north carolina harbors, where it was always easy for a pirate vessel to refit and get ready for further adventures. bonnet's vessel was named the _revenge_, which was about as ill suited to the vessel as her commander was ill fitted to sail her, for bonnet had nobody to revenge himself upon unless, indeed, it were his scolding wife. but a good many pirate ships were then called the _revenge_, and bonnet was bound to follow the fashion, whatever it might be. very soon after he had stood upon the quarter-deck and proclaimed himself a pirate his men had discovered that he knew no more about sailing than he knew about painting portraits, and although there were under-officers who directed all the nautical operations, the mass of the crew conceived a great contempt for a landsman captain. there was much grumbling and growling, and many of the men would have been glad to throw bonnet overboard and take the ship into their own hands. but when any symptoms of mutiny showed themselves, the pirates found that although they did not have a sailor in command over them, they had a very determined and relentless master. bonnet knew that the captain of a pirate ship ought to be the most severe and rigid man on board, and so, at the slightest sign of insubordination, his grumbling men were put in chains or flogged, and it was bonnet's habit at such times to strut about the deck with loaded pistols, threatening to blow out the brains of any man who dared to disobey him. recognizing that although their captain was no sailor he was a first-class tyrant, the rebellious crew kept their grumbling to themselves and worked his ship. bonnet now pointed the bow of the _revenge_ southward--that is, he requested somebody else to see that it was done--and sailed to the bay of honduras, which was a favorite resort of the pirates about that time. and here it was that he first met with the famous captain blackbeard. there can be no doubt that our amateur pirate was very glad indeed to become acquainted with this well-known professional, and they soon became good friends. blackbeard was on the point of organizing an expedition, and he proposed that bonnet and his vessel should join it. this invitation was gladly accepted, and the two pirate captains started out on a cruise together. now the old reprobate, blackbeard, knew everything about ships and was a good navigator, and it was not long before he discovered that his new partner was as green as grass in regard to all nautical affairs. consequently, after having thought the matter over for a time, he made up his mind that bonnet was not at all fit to command such a fine vessel as the one he owned and had fitted out, and as pirates make their own laws, and perhaps do not obey them if they happen not to feel like it, blackbeard sent for bonnet to come on board his ship, and then, in a manner as cold-blooded as if he had been about to cut down a helpless prisoner, blackbeard told bonnet that he was not fit to be a pirate captain, that he intended to keep him on board his own vessel, and that he would send somebody to take charge of the _revenge_. this was a fall indeed, and bonnet was almost stunned by it. an hour before he had been proudly strutting about on the deck of a vessel which belonged to him, and in which he had captured many valuable prizes, and now he was told he was to stay on blackbeard's ship and make himself useful in keeping the log book, or in doing any other easy thing which he might happen to understand. the green pirate ground his teeth and swore bitterly inside of himself, but he said nothing openly; on blackbeard's ship blackbeard's decisions were not to be questioned. chapter xxv bonnet again to the front it must not be supposed that the late commander of the _revenge_ continued to be satisfied, as he sat in the cabin of blackbeard's vessel and made the entries of the day's sailing and various performances. he obeyed the orders of his usurping partner because he was obliged to do so, but he did not hate blackbeard any the less because he had to keep quiet about it. he accompanied his pirate chief on various cruises, among which was the famous expedition to the harbor of charles town where blackbeard traded mr. wragg and his companions for medicines. having a very fine fleet under him, blackbeard did a very successful business for some time, but feeling that he had earned enough for the present, and that it was time for him to take one of his vacations, he put into an inlet in north carolina, where he disbanded his crew. so long as he was on shore spending his money and having a good time, he did not want to have a lot of men about him who would look to him to support them when they had spent their portion of the spoils. having no further use for bonnet, he dismissed him also, and did not object to his resuming possession of his own vessel. if the green pirate chose to go to sea again and perhaps drown himself and his crew, it was a matter of no concern to blackbeard. but this was a matter of very great concern to stede bonnet, and he proceeded to prove that there were certain branches of the piratical business in which he was an adept, and second to none of his fellow-practitioners. he wished to go pirating again, and saw a way of doing this which he thought would be far superior to any of the common methods. it was about this time that king george of england, very desirous of breaking up piracy, issued a proclamation in which he promised pardon to any pirate who would appear before the proper authorities, renounce his evil practices, and take an oath of allegiance. it also happened that very soon after this proclamation had been issued, england went to war with spain. being a man who kept himself posted in the news of the world, so far as it was possible, bonnet saw in the present state of affairs a very good chance for him to play the part of a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he proceeded to begin his new piratical career by renouncing piracy. so leaving the _revenge_ in the inlet, he journeyed overland to bath; there he signed pledges, took oaths, and did everything that was necessary to change himself from a pirate captain to a respectable commander of a duly authorized british privateer. returning to his vessel with all the papers in his pocket necessary to prove that he was a loyal and law-abiding subject of great britain, he took out regular clearance papers for st. thomas, which was a british naval station, and where he declared he was going in order to obtain a commission as a privateer. now the wily bonnet had everything he wanted except a crew. of course it would not do for him, in his present respectable capacity, to go about enlisting unemployed pirates, but at this point fortune again favored him; he knew of a desert island not very far away where blackbeard, at the end of his last cruise, had marooned a large party of his men. this heartless pirate had not wanted to take all of his followers into port, because they might prove troublesome and expensive to him, and so he had put a number of them on this island, to live or die as the case might be. bonnet went over to this island, and finding the greater part of these men still surviving, he offered to take them to st. thomas in his vessel if they would agree to work the ship to port. this proposition was of course joyfully accepted, and very soon the _revenge_ was manned with a complete crew of competent desperadoes. all these operations took a good deal of time, and, at last, when everything was ready for bonnet to start out on his piratical cruise, he received information which caused him to change his mind, and to set forth on an errand of a very different kind. he had supposed that blackbeard, whom he had never forgiven for the shameful and treacherous manner in which he had treated him, was still on shore enjoying himself, but he was told by the captain of a small trading vessel that the old pirate was preparing for another cruise, and that he was then in ocracoke inlet. now bonnet folded his arms and stamped his feet upon the quarter-deck. the time had come for him to show that the name of his vessel meant something. never before had he had an opportunity for revenging himself on anybody, but now that hour had arrived. he would revenge himself upon blackbeard! the implacable bonnet sailed out to sea in a truly warlike frame of mind. he was not going forth to prey upon unresisting merchantmen; he was on his way to punish a black-hearted pirate, a faithless scoundrel, who had not only acted knavishly toward the world in general, but had behaved most disloyally and disrespectfully toward a fellow pirate chief. if he could once run the _revenge_ alongside the ship of the perfidious blackbeard, he would show him what a green hand could do. when bonnet reached ocracoke inlet, he was deeply disappointed to find that blackbeard had left that harbor, but he did not give up the pursuit. he made hot chase after the vessel of his pirate enemy, keeping a sharp lookout in hopes of discovering some signs of him. if the enraged bonnet could have met the ferocious blackbeard face to face, there might have been a combat which would have relieved the world of two atrocious villains, and captain maynard would have been deprived of the honor of having slain the most famous pirate of the day. bonnet was a good soldier and a brave man, and although he could not sail a ship, he understood the use of the sword even better, perhaps, than blackbeard, and there is good reason to believe that if the two ships had come together, their respective crews would have allowed their captains to fight out their private quarrel without interference, for pirates delight in a bloody spectacle, and this would have been to them a rare diversion of the kind. but bonnet never overtook blackbeard, and the great combat between the rival pirates did not take place. after vainly searching for a considerable time for a trace or sight of blackbeard, the baffled bonnet gave up the pursuit and turned his mind to other objects. the first thing he did was to change the name of his vessel; if he could not be revenged, he would not sail in the _revenge_. casting about in his mind for a good name, he decided to call her the _royal james_. having no intention of respecting his oaths or of keeping his promises, he thought that, as he was going to be disloyal, he might as well be as disloyal as he could, and so he gave his ship the name assumed by the son of james the second, who was a pretender to the throne, and was then in france plotting against the english government. the next thing he did was to change his own name, for he thought this would make matters better for him if he should be captured after entering upon his new criminal career. so he called himself captain thomas, by which name he was afterwards known. when these preliminaries had been arranged, he gathered his crew together and announced that instead of going to st. thomas to get a commission as a privateer, he had determined to keep on in his old manner of life, and that he wished them to understand that not only was he a pirate captain, but that they were a pirate crew. many of the men were very much surprised at this announcement, for they had thought it a very natural thing for the green-hand bonnet to give up pirating after he had been so thoroughly snubbed by blackbeard, and they had not supposed that he would ever think again of sailing under a black flag. however, the crew's opinion of the green-hand captain had been a good deal changed. in his various cruises he had learned a good deal about navigation, and could now give very fair orders, and his furious pursuit of blackbeard had also given him a reputation for reckless bravery which he had not enjoyed before. a man who was chafing and fuming for a chance of a hand-to-hand conflict with the greatest pirate of the day must be a pretty good sort of a fellow from their point of view. moreover, their strutting and stalking captain, so recently balked of his dark revenge, was a very savage-looking man, and it would not be pleasant either to try to persuade him to give up his piratical intention, or to decline to join him in carrying it out; so the whole of the crew, minor officers and men, changed their minds about going to st. thomas, and agreed to hoist the skull and cross-bones, and to follow captain bonnet wherever he might lead. bonnet now cruised about in grand style and took some prizes on the virginia coast, and then went up into delaware bay, where he captured such ships as he wanted, and acted generally in the most domineering and insolent fashion. once, when he stopped near the town of lewes, in order to send some prisoners ashore, he sent a message to the officers of the town to the effect that if they interfered with his men when they came ashore, he would open fire upon the town with his cannon, and blow every house into splinters. of course the citizens, having no way of defending themselves, were obliged to allow the pirates to come on shore and depart unmolested. then after this the blustering captain captured two valuable sloops, and wishing to take them along with him without the trouble of transferring their cargoes to his own vessel, he left their crews on board, and ordered them to follow him wherever he went. some days after that, when one of the vessels seemed to be sailing at too great a distance, bonnet quickly let her captain know that he was not a man to be trifled with, and sent him the message that if he did not keep close to the _royal james_, he would fire into him and sink him to the bottom. after a time bonnet put into a north carolina port in order to repair the _royal james_, which was becoming very leaky, and seeing no immediate legitimate way of getting planks and beams enough with which to make the necessary repairs, he captured a small sloop belonging in the neighborhood, and broke it up in order to get the material he needed to make his own vessel seaworthy. now the people of the north carolina coast very seldom interfered with pirates, as we have seen, and it is likely that bonnet might have stayed in port as long as he pleased, and repaired and refitted his vessel without molestation if he had bought and paid for the planks and timber he required. but when it came to boldly seizing their property, that was too much even for the people of the region, and complaints of bonnet's behavior spread from settlement to settlement, and it very soon became known all down the coast that there was a pirate in north carolina who was committing depredations there and was preparing to set out on a fresh cruise. when these tidings came to charles town, the citizens were thrown into great agitation. it had not been long since blackbeard had visited their harbor, and had treated them with such brutal insolence, and there were bold spirits in the town who declared that if any effort by them could prevent another visitation of the pirates, that effort should be made. there was no naval force in the harbor which could be sent out to meet the pirates, who were coming down the coast; but mr. william rhett, a private gentleman of position in the place, went to the governor and offered to fit out, at his own expense, an expedition for the purpose of turning away from their city the danger which threatened it. chapter xxvi the battle of the sand bars when that estimable private gentleman, mr. william rhett, of charles town, had received a commission from the governor to go forth on his own responsibility and meet the dreaded pirate, the news of whose depredations had thrown the good citizens into such a fever of apprehension, he took possession, in the name of the law, of two large sloops, the _henry_ and the _sea-nymph_, which were in the harbor, and at his own expense he manned them with well-armed crews, and put on board of each of them eight small cannon. when everything was ready, mr. rhett was in command of a very formidable force for those waters, and if he had been ready to sail a few days sooner, he would have had an opportunity of giving his men some practice in fighting pirates before they met the particular and more important sea-robber whom they had set out to encounter. just as his vessel was ready to sail, mr. rhett received news that a pirate ship had captured two or three merchantmen just outside the harbor, and he put out to sea with all possible haste and cruised up and down the coast for some time, but he did not find this most recent depredator, who had departed very promptly when he heard that armed ships were coming out of the harbor. now mr. rhett, who was no more of a sailor than stede bonnet had been when he first began his seafaring life, boldly made his way up the coast to the mouth of cape fear river, where he had been told the pirate vessel was lying. when he reached his destination, mr. rhett found that it would not be an easy thing to ascend the river, for the reason that the pilots he had brought with him knew nothing about the waters of that part of the coast, and although the two ships made their way very cautiously, it was not long after they had entered the river before they got out of the channel, and it being low tide, both of them ran aground upon sand bars. this was a very annoying accident, but it was not disastrous, for the sailing masters who commanded the sloops knew very well that when the tide rose, their vessels would float again. but it prevented mr. rhett from going on and making an immediate attack upon the pirate vessel, the topmasts of which could be plainly seen behind a high headland some distance up the river. of course bonnet, or captain thomas, as he now chose to be called, soon became aware of the fact that two good-sized vessels were lying aground near the mouth of the river, and having a very natural curiosity to see what sort of craft they were, he waited until nightfall and then sent three armed boats to make observations. when these boats returned to the _royal james_ and reported that the grounded vessels were not well-loaded trading craft, but large sloops full of men and armed with cannon, bonnet (for we prefer to call him by his old name) had good reason to fold his arms, knit his brows, and strut up and down the deck. he was sure that the armed vessels came from charles town, and there was no reason to doubt that if the governor of south carolina had sent two ships against him the matter was a very serious one. he was penned up in the river, he had only one fighting vessel to contend against two, and if he could not succeed in getting out to sea before he should be attacked by the charles town ships, there would be but little chance of his continuing in his present line of business. if the _royal james_ had been ready to sail, there is no doubt that bonnet would have taken his chance of finding the channel in the dark, and would have sailed away that night without regard to the cannonading which might have been directed against him from the two stranded vessels. but as it was impossible to get ready to sail, bonnet went to work with the greatest energy to get ready to fight. he knew that when the tide rose there would be two armed sloops afloat, and that there would be a regular naval battle on the quiet waters of cape fear river. all night his men worked to clear the decks and get everything in order for the coming combat, and all night mr. rhett and his crews kept a sharp watch for any unexpected move of the enemy, while they loaded their guns, their pistols, and their cannon, and put everything in order for action. very early in the morning the wide-awake crews of the south carolina vessels, which were now afloat and at anchor, saw that the topmasts of the pirate craft were beginning to move above the distant headland, and very soon bonnet's ship came out into view, under full sail, and as she veered around they saw that she was coming toward them. up went the anchors and up went the sails of the _henry_ and the _sea-nymph_, and the naval battle between the retired army officer who had almost learned to be a sailor, and the private gentleman from south carolina, who knew nothing whatever about managing ships, was about to begin. it was plain to the south carolinians that the great object of the pirate captain was to get out to sea just as soon as he could, and that he was coming down the river, not because he wished to make an immediate attack upon them, but because he hoped to slip by them and get away. of course they could follow him upon the ocean and fight him if their vessels were fast enough, but once out of the river with plenty of sea-room, he would have twenty chances of escape where now he had one. but mr. rhett did not intend that the pirates should play him this little trick; he wanted to fight the dastardly wretches in the river, where they could not get away, and he had no idea of letting them sneak out to sea. consequently as the _royal james_, under full sail, was making her way down the river, keeping as far as possible from her two enemies, mr. rhett ordered his ships to bear down upon her so as to cut off her retreat and force her toward the opposite shore of the river. this manoeuvre was performed with great success. the two charles town sloops sailed so boldly and swiftly toward the _royal james_ that the latter was obliged to hug the shore, and the first thing the pirates knew they were stuck fast and tight upon a sand bar. three minutes afterward the _henry_ ran upon a sand bar, and there being enough of these obstructions in that river to satisfy any ordinary demand, the _sea-nymph_ very soon grounded herself upon another of them. but unfortunately she took up her permanent position at a considerable distance from her consort. here now were the vessels which were to conduct this memorable sea-fight, all three fast in the sand and unable to move, and their predicament was made the worse by the fact that it would be five hours before the tide would rise high enough for any one of them to float. the positions of the three vessels were very peculiar and awkward; the _henry_ and the _royal james_ were lying so near to each other that mr. rhett could have shot major bonnet with a pistol if the latter gentleman had given him the chance, and the _sea-nymph_ was so far away that she was entirely out of the fight, and her crew could do nothing but stand and watch what was going on between the other two vessels. but although they could not get any nearer each other, nor get away from each other, the pirates and mr. rhett's crew had no idea of postponing the battle until they should be afloat and able to fight in the ordinary fashion of ships; they immediately began to fire at each other with pistols, muskets, and cannon, and the din and roar was something that must have astonished the birds and beasts and fishes of that quiet region. as the tide continued to run out of the river, and its waters became more and more shallow, the two contending vessels began to careen over to one side, and, unfortunately for the _henry_, they both careened in the same direction, and in such a manner that the deck of the _royal james_ was inclined away from the _henry_, while the deck of the latter leaned toward her pirate foe. this gave a great advantage to bonnet and his crew, for they were in a great measure protected by the hull of their vessel, whereas the whole deck of the _henry_ was exposed to the fire of the pirates. but mr. rhett and his south carolinians were all brave men, and they blazed away with their muskets and pistols at the pirates whenever they could see a head above the rail of the _royal james_, while with their cannon they kept firing at the pirate's hull. for five long hours the fight continued, but the cannon carried by the two vessels must have been of very small calibre, for if they had been firing at such short range and for such a length of time with modern guns, they must have shattered each other into kindling wood. but neither vessel seems to have been seriously injured, and although there were a good many men killed on both sides, the combat was kept up with great determination and fury. at one time it seemed almost certain that bonnet would get the better of mr. rhett, and he ordered his black flag waved contemptuously in the air while his men shouted to the south carolinians to come over and call upon them, but the south carolina boys answered these taunts with cheers and fired away more furiously than ever. the tide was now coming in, and everybody on board the two fighting vessels knew very well that the first one of them which should float would have a great advantage over the other, and would probably be the conqueror. in came the tide, and still the cannons roared and the muskets cracked, while the hearts of the pirates and the south carolinians almost stood still as they each watched the other vessel to see if she showed any signs of floating. at last such signs were seen; the _henry_ was further from the shore than the _royal james_, and she first felt the influence of the rising waters. her masts began to straighten, and at last her deck was level, and she floated clear of the bottom while her antagonist still lay careened over on her side. now the pirates saw there was no chance for them; in a very short time the other carolina sloop would be afloat, and then the two vessels would bear down upon them and utterly destroy both them and their vessel. consequently upon the _royal james_ there was a general disposition to surrender and to make the best terms they could, for it would be a great deal better to submit and run the chance of a trial than to keep up the fight against enemies so much superior both in numbers and ships, who would soon be upon them. but bonnet would not listen to one word of surrender. rather than give up the fight he declared he would set fire to the powder magazine of the _royal james_ and blow himself, his ship, and his men high up into the air. although he had not a sailor's skill, he possessed a soldier's soul, and in spite of his being a dastardly and cruel pirate he was a brave man. but bonnet was only one, and his crew numbered dozens, and notwithstanding his furiously dissenting voice it was determined to surrender, and when mr. rhett sailed up to the _royal james_, intending to board her if the pirates still showed resistance, he found them ready to submit to terms and to yield themselves his prisoners. thus ended the great sea-fight between the private gentlemen, and thus ended stede bonnet's career. he and his men were taken to charles town, where most of the pirate crew were tried and executed. the green-hand pirate, who had wrought more devastation along the american coast than many a skilled sea-robber, was held in custody to await his trial, and it seems very strange that there should have been a public sentiment in charles town which induced the officials to treat this pirate with a certain degree of respect simply from the fact that his station in life had been that of a gentleman. he was a much more black-hearted scoundrel than any of his men, but they were executed as soon as possible while his trial was postponed and he was allowed privileges which would never have been accorded a common pirate. in consequence of this leniency he escaped and had to be retaken by mr. rhett. it was so long before he was tried that sympathy for his misfortunes arose among some of the tender-hearted citizens of charles town whose houses he would have pillaged and whose families he would have murdered if the exigencies of piracy had rendered such action desirable. finding that other people were trying to save his life, bonnet came down from his high horse and tried to save it himself by writing piteous letters to the governor, begging for mercy. but the governor of south carolina had no notion of sparing a pirate who had deliberately put himself under the protection of the law in order that he might better pursue his lawless and wicked career, and the green hand, with the black heart, was finally hung on the same spot where his companions had been executed. chapter xxvii a six weeks' pirate about the time of stede bonnet's terminal adventures a very unpretentious pirate made his appearance in the waters of new york. this was a man named richard worley, who set himself up in piracy in a very small way, but who, by a strict attention to business, soon achieved a remarkable success. he started out as a scourge upon the commerce of the atlantic ocean with only an open boat and eight men. in this small craft he went down the coast of new jersey taking everything he could from fishing boats and small trading vessels until he reached delaware bay, and here he made a bold stroke and captured a good-sized sloop. when this piratical outrage was reported at philadelphia, it created a great sensation, and people talked about it until the open boat with nine men grew into a great pirate ship filled with roaring desperadoes and cutthroats. from philadelphia the news was sent to new york, and that government was warned of the great danger which threatened the coast. as soon as this alarming intelligence was received, the new yorkers set to work to get up an expedition which should go out to sea and endeavor to destroy the pirate vessel before it could enter their port, and work havoc among their merchantmen. it may seem strange that a small open boat with nine men could stir up such a commotion in these two great provinces of north america, but if we can try to imagine the effect which would be produced among the inhabitants of staten island, or in the hearts of the dwellers in the beautiful houses on the shores of the delaware river, by the announcement that a boat carrying nine desperate burglars was to be expected in their neighborhood, we can better understand what the people of new york and philadelphia thought when they heard that worley had captured a sloop in delaware bay. the expedition which left new york made a very unsuccessful cruise. it sailed for days and days, but never saw a sign of a boat containing nine men, and it returned disappointed and obliged to report no progress. with worley, however, progress had been very decided. he captured another sloop, and this being a large one and suitable to his purposes, he took possession of it, gave up his open boat, and fitted out his prize as a regular piratical craft. with a good ship under his command, captain worley now enlarged his sphere of action; on both shores of delaware bay, and along the coast of new jersey, he captured everything which came in his way, and for about three weeks he made the waters in those regions very hot for every kind of peaceable commercial craft. if worley had been in trade, his motto would have been "quick sales and small profits," for by day and by night, the _new york's revenge_, which was the name he gave to his new vessel, cruised east and west and north and south, losing no opportunity of levying contributions of money, merchandise, food, and drink upon any vessel, no matter how insignificant it might be. the philadelphians now began to tremble in their shoes; for if a boat had so quickly grown into a sloop, the sloop might grow into a fleet, and they had all heard of porto bello, and the deeds of the bloody buccaneers. the governor of pennsylvania, recognizing the impending danger and the necessity of prompt action, sent to sandy hook, where there was a british man-of-war, the _phoenix_, and urged that this vessel should come down into delaware bay and put an end to the pirate ship which was ravaging those waters. considering that worley had not been engaged in piracy for much more than four weeks, he had created a reputation for enterprise and industry, which gave him a very important position as a commerce destroyer, and a large man-of-war did not think that he was too small game for her to hunt down, and so she set forth to capture or destroy the audacious worley. but never a worley of any kind did she see. while the _phoenix_ was sailing along the coast, examining all the coves and harbors of new jersey and pennsylvania, the _new york's revenge_ put out to sea, and then proceeded southward to discover a more undisturbed field of operation. we will now leave worley's vessel sailing southward, and go for a time to charles town, where some very important events were taking place. the governor of south carolina had been very much afraid that the pirates in general would take some sort of revenge for the capture of stede bonnet, who was then in prison awaiting trial, and that if he should be executed, charles town might be visited by an overpowering piratical force, and he applied to england to have a war-vessel sent to the harbor. but before any relief of this kind could be expected, news came to charles town that already a celebrated pirate, named moody, was outside of the harbor, capturing merchant vessels, and it might be that he was only waiting for the arrival of other pirate ships to sail into the harbor and rescue bonnet. now the charles town citizens saw that they must again act for themselves, and not depend upon the home government. if there were pirates outside the harbor, they must be met and fought before they could come up to the city; and the governor and the council decided immediately to fit out a little fleet. four merchant vessels were quickly provided with cannon, ammunition, and men, and the command of this expedition would undoubtedly have been given to mr. rhett had it not been that he and the governor had quarrelled. there being no naval officers in charles town, their fighting vessels had to be commanded by civilians, and governor johnson now determined that he would try his hand at carrying on a sea-fight. mr. rhett had done very well; why should not he? before the governor's little fleet of vessels, one of which was the _royal james_, captured from bonnet, was quite ready to sail, the governor received news that his preparations had not been made a moment too soon, for already two vessels, one a large ship, and the other an armed sloop, had come into the outer harbor, and were lying at anchor off sullivan's island. it was very likely that moody, having returned from some outside operation, was waiting there for the arrival of other pirate ships, and that it was an important thing to attack him at once. as it was very desirable that the pirates should not be frightened away before the charles town fleet could reach them, the vessels of the latter were made to look as much like mere merchantmen as possible. their cannon were covered, and the greater part of the crews was kept below, out of sight. thus the four ships came sailing down the bay, and early in the morning made their appearance in the sight of the pirates. when the ship and the big sloop saw the four merchant vessels sailing quietly out of the harbor, they made immediate preparations to capture them. anchors were weighed, sails were set, and with a black flag flying from the topmast of each vessel, the pirates steered toward the charles town fleet, and soon approached near enough to the _king william_, which was the foremost of the fleet, to call upon her captain to surrender. but at that moment governor johnson, who was on board the _mediterranean_, and could hear the insolent pirate shouting through his speaking-trumpet, gave a preconcerted signal. instantly everything was changed. the covers were jerked off from the cannon of the pretended merchantmen, armed men poured up out of the holds, the flag of england was quickly raised on each one of them, and the sixty-eight guns of the combined fleet opened fire upon the astonished pirates. the ship which seemed to be the more formidable of the enemy's vessels had run up so close to her intended prey that two of governor johnson's vessels, the _sea-nymph_ and the _royal james_, once so bitterly opposed to each other, but now fighting together in honest comradeship, were able to go between her and the open sea and so cut off her retreat. but if the captain of the pirate ship could not get away, he showed that he was very well able to fight, and although the two vessels which had made him the object of their attack were pouring cannon balls and musket shot upon him, he blazed away with his cannon and his muskets. the three vessels were so near each other that sometimes their yard-arms almost touched, so that this terrible fight seemed almost like a hand-to-hand conflict. for four hours the roaring of the cannon, the crushing of timbers, the almost continuous discharge of musketry were kept up, while the smoke of the battle frequently almost prevented the crews of the contending ships from seeing each other. not so very far away the people of charles town, who were standing on the shores of their beautiful harbor, could see the fierce fight which was going on, and great was the excitement and anxiety throughout the city. but the time came when two ships grew too much for one, and as the _royal james_ and the _sea-nymph_ were able to take positions by which they could rake the deck of the pirate vessel, many of her men gave up the fight and rushed down into the hold to save their lives. then both the charles town vessels bore down upon the pirate and boarded her, and now there was another savage battle with pistols and cutlasses. the pirate captain and several of his crew were still on deck, and they fought like wounded lions, and it was not until they had all been cut down or shot that victory came to the men of charles town. very soon after this terrible battle was over the waiting crowds in the city saw a glorious sight; the pirate ship came sailing slowly up the harbor, a captured vessel, with the _sea-nymph_ on one side and the _royal james_ on the other, the colors of the crown flying from the masts of each one of the three. the other pirate ship, which was quite large, seemed to be more fortunate than her companion, for she was able to get out to sea, and spreading all her sails she made every effort to escape. governor johnson, however, had no idea of letting her get away if he could help it. when a civilian goes out to fight a sea-battle he naturally wants to show what he can do, and governor johnson did not mean to let people think that mr. rhett was a better naval commander than he was. he ordered the _mediterranean_ and the _king william_ to put on all sail, and away they went after the big ship. the retreating pirates did everything they could to effect escape, throwing over their cannon, and even their boats, in order to lighten their ship, but it was of no use. the governor's vessels were the faster sailers, and when the _king william_ got near enough to fire a few cannon balls into the flying ship, the latter hauled down the black flag and without hesitation lay to and surrendered. it was plain enough that this ship was not manned by desperate pirates, and when governor johnson went on board of her he found her to be not really a pirate ship, but an english vessel which not long before had been captured by the pirates in whose company she had visited charles town harbor. she had been bringing over from england a company of convicts and what were called "covenant servants," who were going to the colonies to be disposed of to the planters for a term of years. among these were thirty-six women, and when the south carolinians went below they were greatly surprised to find the hold crowded with these unfortunate creatures, some of whom were nearly frightened to death. at the time of this vessel's capture the pirate captain had enlisted some of the convicts into his crew, as he needed men, and putting on board of his prize a few pirates to command her, the ship had been worked by such of her own crew and passengers as were willing to serve under pirates, while the others were shut up below. here was a fine prize taken with very little trouble, and the _king william_ and the _mediterranean_ returned to charles town with their captured ship, to be met with the shouts and cheers of the delighted citizens, already excited to a high pitch by the previous arrival of the captured pirate sloop. but governor johnson met with something else which made a stronger impression on him than the cheers of his townspeople, and this was the great surprise of finding that he had not fought and conquered the pirate moody; without suspecting such a thing, he had crushed and utterly annihilated the dreaded worley, whose deeds had created such a consternation in northern waters, and whose threatened approach had sent a thrill of excitement all down the coast. when this astonishing news became known, the flags of the city were waved more wildly, and the shouts and cheers rose higher. thus came to an end, in the short time of six weeks, the career of richard worley, who, without doubt, did more piratical work in less time than any sea-robber on record. chapter xxviii the story of two women pirates the history of the world gives us many instances of women who have taken the parts of men, almost always acquitting themselves with as much credit as if they had really belonged to the male sex, and, in our modern days, these instances are becoming more frequent than ever before. joan of arc put on a suit of armor and bravely led an army, and there have been many other fighting women who made a reputation for themselves; but it is very seldom that we hear of a woman who became a pirate. there were, however, two women pirates who made themselves very well known on our coast. the most famous of these women pirates was named mary reed. her father was an english captain of a trading vessel, and her mother sailed with him. this mother had had an elder child, a son, and she also had a mother-in-law in england from whom she expected great things for her little boy. but the boy died, and mrs. reed, being afraid that her mother-in-law would not be willing to leave any property to a girl, determined to play a little trick, and make believe that her second child was also a boy. consequently, as soon as the little girl, who, from her birth had been called mary by her father and mother, was old enough to leave off baby clothes, she put on boy's clothes, and when the family returned to england a nice little boy appeared before his grandmother; but all this deception amounted to nothing, for the old lady died without leaving anything to the pretended boy. mary's mother believed that her child would get along better in the world as a boy than she would as a girl, and therefore she still dressed her in masculine clothes, and put her out to service as a foot-boy, or one of those youngsters who now go by the name of "buttons." but mary did not fancy blacking boots and running errands. she was very well satisfied to be a boy, but she wanted to live the kind of a boy's life which would please her fancy, and as she thought life on the ocean wave would suit her very well, she ran away from her employer's house and enlisted on board a man-of-war as a powder monkey. after a short time, mary found that the ocean was not all that she expected it to be, and when she had grown up so that she looked like a good strapping fellow, she ran away from the man-of-war when it was in an english port, and went to flanders, and there she thought she would try something new, and see whether or not she would like a soldier's life better than that of a sailor. she enlisted in a regiment of foot, and in the course of time she became a very good soldier and took part in several battles, firing her musket and charging with her bayonet as well as any of the men beside her. but there is a great deal of hard work connected with infantry service, and although she was eager for the excitement of battle with the exhilarating smell of powder and the cheering shouts of her fellow-soldiers, mary did not fancy tramping on long marches, carrying her heavy musket and knapsack. she got herself changed into a regiment of cavalry, and here, mounted upon a horse, with the encumbrances she disliked to carry comfortably strapped behind her, mary felt much more at ease, and much better satisfied. but she was not destined to achieve fame as a dashing cavalry man with foaming steed and flashing sabre. one of her comrades was a very prepossessing young fellow, and mary fell in love with him, and when she told him she was not really a cavalry man but a cavalry woman, he returned her affection, and the two agreed that they would quit the army, and set up domestic life as quiet civilians. they were married, and went into the tavern-keeping business. they were both fond of horses, and did not wish to sever all connection with the method of life they had just given up, and so they called their little inn the three horse shoes, and were always glad when any one of their customers came riding up to their stables, instead of simply walking in their door. but this domestic life did not last very long. mary's husband died, and, not wishing to keep a tavern by herself, she again put on the dress of a man and enlisted as a soldier. but her military experience did not satisfy her, and after all she believed that she liked the sea better than the land, and again she shipped as a sailor on a vessel bound for the west indies. now mary's desire for change and variety seemed likely to be fully satisfied. the ship was taken by english pirates, and as she was english and looked as if she would make a good freebooter, they compelled her to join them, and thus it was that she got her first idea of a pirate's life. when this company disbanded, she went to new providence and enlisted on a privateer, but, as was very common on such vessels commissioned to perform acts of legal piracy, the crew soon determined that illegal piracy was much preferable, so they hoisted the black flag, and began to scourge the seas. mary reed was now a regular pirate, with a cutlass, pistol, and every outward appearance of a daring sea-robber, except that she wore no bristling beard, but as her face was sunburned and seamed by the weather, she looked mannish enough to frighten the senses out of any unfortunate trader on whose deck she bounded in company with her shouting, hairy-faced companions. it is told of her that she did not fancy the life of a pirate, but she seemed to believe in the principle of whatever is worth doing is worth doing well; she was as ready with her cutlass and her pistol as any other ocean bandit. but although mary was a daring pirate, she was also a woman, and again she fell in love. a very pleasant and agreeable sailor was taken prisoner by the crew of her ship, and mary concluded that she would take him as her portion of the spoils. consequently, at the first port they touched she became again a woman and married him, and as they had no other present method of livelihood he remained with her on her ship. mary and her husband had no real love for a pirate's life, and they determined to give it up as soon as possible, but the chance to do so did not arrive. mary had a very high regard for her new husband, who was a quiet, amiable man, and not at all suited to his present life, and as he had become a pirate for the love of her, she did everything she could to make life easy for him. she even went so far as to fight a duel in his place, one of the crew having insulted him, probably thinking him a milksop who would not resent an affront. but the latent courage of mary's husband instantly blazed up, and he challenged the insulter to a duel. although mary thought her husband was brave enough to fight anybody, she thought that perhaps, in some ways, he was a milksop and did not understand the use of arms nearly as well as she did. therefore, she made him stay on board the ship while she went to a little island near where they were anchored and fought the duel with sword and pistol. the man pirate and the woman pirate now went savagely to work, and it was not long before the man pirate lay dead upon the sand, while mary returned to an admiring crew and a grateful husband. during her piratical career mary fell in with another woman pirate, anne bonny, by name, and these women, being perhaps the only two of their kind, became close friends. anne came of a good family. she was the daughter of an irish lawyer, who went to carolina and became a planter, and there the little girl grew up. when her mother died she kept the house, but her disposition was very much more masculine than feminine. she was very quick-tempered and easily enraged, and it is told of her that when an englishwoman, who was working as a servant in her father's house, had irritated anne by some carelessness or impertinence, that hot-tempered young woman sprang upon her and stabbed her with a carving-knife. it is not surprising that anne soon showed a dislike for the humdrum life on a plantation, and meeting with a young sailor, who owned nothing in the world but the becoming clothes he wore, she married him. thereupon her father, who seems to have been as hot-headed as his daughter, promptly turned her out of doors. the fiery anne was glad enough to adopt her husband's life, and she went to sea with him, sailing to new providence. there she was thrown into an entirely new circle of society. pirates were in the habit of congregating at this place, and anne was greatly delighted with the company of these daring, dashing sea-robbers, of whose exploits she had so often heard. the more she associated with the pirates, the less she cared for the plain, stupid sailors, who were content with the merchant service, and she finally deserted her husband and married a captain rackham, one of the most attractive and dashing pirates of the day. anne went on board the ship of her pirate husband, and as she was sure his profession would exactly suit her wild and impetuous nature, she determined also to become a pirate. she put on man's clothes, girded to her side a cutlass, and hung pistols in her belt. during many voyages anne sailed with captain rackham, and wherever there was pirate's work to do, she was on deck to do it. at last the gallant captain came to grief. he was captured and condemned to death. now there was an opportunity for anne's nature to assert itself, and it did, but it was a very different sort of nature from that of mary reed. just before his execution anne was admitted to see her husband, but instead of offering to do anything that might comfort him or palliate his dreadful misfortune, she simply stood and contemptuously glared at him. she was sorry, she said, to see him in such a predicament, but she told him plainly that if he had had the courage to fight like a man, he would not then be waiting to be hung like a dog, and with that she walked away and left him. on the occasion when captain rackham had been captured, mary reed and her husband were on board his ship, and there was, perhaps, some reason for anne's denunciation of the cowardice of captain rackham. as has been said, the two women were good friends and great fighters, and when they found the vessel engaged in a fight with a man-of-war, they stood together upon the deck and boldly fought, although the rest of the crew, and even the captain himself, were so discouraged by the heavy fire which was brought to bear on them, that they had retreated to the hold. mary and anne were so disgusted at this exhibition of cowardice, that they rushed to the hatchways and shouted to their dastardly companions to come up and help defend the ship, and when their entreaties were disregarded they were so enraged that they fired down into the hold, killing one of the frightened pirates and wounding several others. but their ship was taken, and mary and anne, in company with all the pirates who had been left alive, were put in irons and carried to england. when she was in prison, mary declared that she and her husband had firmly intended to give up piracy and become private citizens. but when she was put on trial, the accounts of her deeds had a great deal more effect than her words upon her judges, and she was condemned to be executed. she was saved, however, from this fate by a fever of which she died soon after her conviction. the impetuous anne was also condemned, but the course of justice is often very curious and difficult to understand, and this hard-hearted and sanguinary woman was reprieved and finally pardoned. whether or not she continued to disport herself as a man we do not know, but it is certain that she was the last of the female pirates. there are a great many things which women can do as well as men, and there are many professions and lines of work from which they have been long debarred, and for which they are most admirably adapted, but it seems to me that piracy is not one of them. it is said that a woman's nature is apt to carry her too far, and i have never heard of any man pirate who would allow himself to become so enraged against the cowardice of his companions that he would deliberately fire down into the hold of a vessel containing his wife and a crowd of his former associates. chapter xxix a pirate from boyhood about the beginning of the eighteenth century there lived in westminster, england, a boy who very early in life made a choice of a future career. nearly all boys have ideas upon this subject, and while some think they would like to be presidents or generals of armies, others fancy that they would prefer to be explorers of unknown countries or to keep candy shops. but it generally happens that these youthful ideas are never carried out, and that the boy who would wish to sell candy because he likes to eat it, becomes a farmer on the western prairie, where confectionery is never seen, and the would-be general determines to study for the ministry. but edward low, the boy under consideration, was a different sort of a fellow. the life of a robber suited his youthful fancy, and he not only adopted it at a very early age, but he stuck to it until the end of his life. he was much stronger and bolder than the youngsters with whom he associated, and he soon became known among them as a regular land pirate. if a boy possessed anything which ned low desired, whether it happened to be an apple, a nut, or a farthing, the young robber gave chase to him, and treated him as a pirate treats a merchant vessel which he has boarded. not only did young low resemble a pirate in his dishonest methods, but he also resembled one in his meanness and cruelty; if one of his victims was supposed by him to have hidden any of the treasures which his captor believed him to possess, low would inflict upon him every form of punishment which the ingenuity of a bad boy could devise, in order to compel him to confess where he had concealed the half-penny which had been given to him for holding a horse, or the ball with which he had been seen playing. in the course of time this young street pirate became a terror to all boys in that part of london in which he lived, and by beginning so early he acquired a great proficiency in dishonest and cruel practices. it is likely that young low inherited his knavish disposition, for one of his brothers became a very bold and ingenious thief, and invented a new kind of robbery which afterwards was popular in london. this brother grew to be a tall fellow, and it was his practice to dress himself like a porter,--one of those men who in those days carried packages and parcels about the city. on his head he poised a basket, and supporting this burden with his hands, he hurriedly made his way through the most crowded streets of london. the basket was a heavy one, but it did not contain any ordinary goods, such as merchandise or marketing; but instead of these it held a very sharp and active boy seven years old, one of the younger members of the low family. as the tall brother pushed rapidly here and there among the hurrying people on the sidewalks, the boy in the basket would suddenly stretch out with his wiry young arm, and snatch the hat or the wig of some man who might pass near enough for him to reach him. this done, the porter and his basket would quickly be lost in the crowd; and even if the astonished citizen, suddenly finding himself hatless and wigless, beheld the long-legged low, he would have no reason to suppose that that industrious man with the basket on his head had anything to do with the loss of his head covering. this new style of street robbery must have been quite profitable, for of course the boy in the basket was well instructed, and never snatched at a shabby hat or a poor looking wig. the elder low came to have a good many imitators, and it happened in the course of time that many a worthy citizen of london wished there were some harmless way of gluing his wig to the top of his head, or that it were the custom to secure the hat by means of strings tied under the chin. as ned low grew up to be a strong young fellow, he also grew discontented with the pilferings and petty plunders which were possible to him in the london streets, and so he went to sea and sailed to america. he landed in boston, and, as it was necessary to work in order to eat,--for opportunities of a dishonest livelihood had not yet opened themselves before him,--he undertook to learn the trade of a rigger, but as he was very badly suited to any sort of steady occupation, he soon quarrelled with his master, ran away, and got on board a vessel bound for honduras. for a time he earned a livelihood by cutting logwood, but it was not long before he quarrelled with the captain of the vessel for whom he was working, and finally became so enraged that he tried to kill him. he did not succeed in this dastardly attempt, but as he could not commit murder he decided to do the next worst thing, and so gathering together twelve of the greatest rascals among his companions, they seized a boat, went out to the captain's schooner, which was lying near shore, and took possession of it. then they hoisted anchor, ran up the sail, and put out to sea, leaving the captain and the men who were with him to take care of themselves the best that they could and live on logwood leaves if they could find nothing else to eat. now young low was out upon the ocean in possession of a vessel and in command of twelve sturdy scoundrels, and he did not have the least trouble in the world in making up his mind what he should do next. as soon as he could manufacture a black flag from materials he found on board, he flung this ominous ensign to the breeze, and declared himself a pirate. this was the summit of his ambition, and in this new profession he had very little to learn. from a boy thief to a man pirate the way is easy enough. the logwood schooner, of course, was not provided with the cannon, cutlasses, and pistols necessary for piratical undertakings, and therefore low found himself in the position of a young man beginning business with a very small capital. so, in the hopes of providing himself with the necessary appliances for his work, low sailed for one of the islands of the west indies which was a resort for pirates, and there he had very good fortune, for he fell in with a man named lowther who was already well established in the profession of piracy. when low sailed into the little port with his home-made black flag floating above him, lowther received him with the greatest courtesy and hospitality, and shortly afterwards proposed to the newly fledged pirate to go into partnership with him. this offer was accepted, and low was made second in command of the little fleet of two vessels, each of which was well provided with arms, ammunition, and all things necessary for robbery on the high seas. the partnership between these two rascals did not continue very long. they took several valuable prizes, and the more booty he obtained, the higher became low's opinion of himself, and the greater his desire for independent action. therefore it was that when they had captured a large brigantine, low determined that he would no longer serve under any man. he made a bargain with lowther by which they dissolved partnership, and low became the owner of the brigantine. in this vessel, with forty-four men as a crew, he again started out in the black flag business on his own account, and parting from his former chief officer, he sailed northward. as low had landed in boston, and had lived some time in that city, he seems to have conceived a fancy for new england, which, however, was not at all reciprocated by the inhabitants of that part of the country. among the first feats which low performed in new england waters was the capture of a sloop about to enter one of the ports of rhode island. when he had taken everything out of this vessel which he wanted, low cut away the yards from the masts and stripped the vessel of all its sails and rigging. as his object was to get away from these waters before his presence was discovered by the people on shore, he not only made it almost impossible to sail the vessel he had despoiled, but he wounded the captain and others of the peaceful crew so that they should not be able to give information to any passing craft. then he sailed away as rapidly as possible in the direction of the open sea. in spite, however, of all the disadvantages under which they labored, the crew of the merchant vessel managed to get into block island, and from there a small boat was hurriedly rowed over to rhode island, carrying intelligence of the bold piracy which had been committed so close to one of its ports. when the governor heard what had happened, he quickly sent out drummers to sound the alarm in the seaport towns and to call upon volunteers to go out and capture the pirates. so great was the resentment caused by the audacious deed of low that a large number of volunteers hastened to offer their services to the governor, and two vessels were fitted out with such rapidity that, although their commanders had only heard of the affair in the morning, they were ready to sail before sunset. they put on all sail and made the best speed they could, and although they really caught sight of low's ship, the pirate vessel was a swifter craft than those in pursuit of her, and the angry sailors of rhode island were at last compelled to give up the chase. the next of low's transactions was on a wholesale scale. rounding cape cod and sailing up the coast, he at last reached the vicinity of marblehead, and there, in a harbor called in those days port rosemary, he found at anchor a fleet of thirteen merchant vessels. this was a grand sight, as welcome to the eye of a pirate as a great nugget of gold would be to a miner who for weary days had been washing yellow grains from the "pay dirt" which he had laboriously dug from the hard soil. it would have been easy for low to take his pick from these vessels quietly resting in the little harbor, for he soon perceived that none of them were armed nor were they able to protect themselves from assault, but his audacity was of an expansive kind, and he determined to capture them all. sailing boldly into the harbor, he hoisted the dreadful black flag, and then, standing on his quarter-deck with his speaking-trumpet, he shouted to each vessel as he passed it that if it did not surrender he would board it and give no quarter to captain or crew. of course there was nothing else for the peaceful sailors to do but to submit, and so this greedy pirate took possession of each vessel in turn and stripped it of everything of value he cared to take away. but he did not confine himself to stealing the goods on board these merchantmen. as he preferred to command several vessels instead of one, he took possession of some of the best of the ships and compelled as many of their men as he thought he would need to enter his service. then, as one of the captured vessels was larger and better than his brigantine, he took it for his own ship, and at the head of the little pirate fleet he bid farewell to marblehead and started out on a grand cruise against the commerce of our coast. it is wonderful how rapidly this man low succeeded in his business enterprises. beginning with a little vessel with a dozen unarmed men, he found himself in a very short time at the head of what was perhaps the largest piratical force in american waters. what might have happened if nature had not taken a hand in this game it is not difficult to imagine, for our seaboard towns, especially those of the south, would have been an easy prey to low and his fleet. but sailing down to the west indies, probably in order to fit out his ships with guns, arms, and ammunition before beginning a naval campaign, his fleet was overtaken by a terrible storm, and in order to save the vessels they were obliged to throw overboard a great many of the heavier goods they had captured at marblehead, and when at last they found shelter in the harbor of a small island, they were glad that they had escaped with their lives. the grasping and rapacious low was not now in a condition to proceed to any rendezvous of pirates where he might purchase the arms and supplies he needed. a great part of his valuable plunder had gone to the bottom of the sea, and he was therefore obliged to content himself with operations upon a comparatively small scale. how small and contemptible this scale was it is scarcely possible for an ordinary civilized being to comprehend, but the soul of this ignoble pirate was capable of extraordinary baseness. when he had repaired the damage to his ships, low sailed out from the island, and before long he fell in with a wrecked vessel which had lost all its masts in a great storm, and was totally disabled, floating about wherever the winds chose to blow it. the poor fellows on board greatly needed succor, and there is no doubt that when they saw the approach of sails their hopes rose high, and even if they had known what sort of ships they were which were making their way toward them, they would scarcely have suspected that the commander of these goodly vessels was such an utterly despicable scoundrel as he proved to be. instead of giving any sort of aid to the poor shipwrecked crew, low and his men set to work to plunder their vessel, and they took from it a thousand pounds in money, and everything of value which they could find on board. having thus stripped the unfortunate wreck, they departed, leaving the captain and crew of the disabled vessel to perish by storm or starvation, unless some other vessel, manned by human beings and not pitiless beasts, should pass their way and save them. low now commenced a long series of piratical depredations. he captured many merchantmen, he committed the vilest cruelties upon his victims, and in every way proved himself to be one of the meanest and most black-hearted pirates of whom we have any account. it is not necessary to relate his various dastardly performances. they were all very much of the same order, and none of them possessed any peculiar interest; his existence is referred to in these pages because he was one of the most noted and successful pirates of his time, and also because his career indicated how entirely different was the character of the buccaneers of previous days from that of the pirates who in the eighteenth century infested our coast. the first might have been compared to bold and dashing highwaymen, who at least showed courage and daring; but the others resembled sneak thieves, always seeking to commit a crime if they could do it in safety, but never willing to risk their cowardly necks in any danger. the buccaneers of the olden days were certainly men of the greatest bravery. they did not hesitate to attack well-armed vessels manned by crews much larger than their own, and in later periods they faced cannon and conquered cities. their crimes were many and vile; but when they committed cruelties they did so in order to compel their prisoners to disclose their hidden treasures, and when they attacked a spanish vessel, and murdered all on board, they had in their hearts the remembrance that the spanish naval forces gave no quarter to buccaneers. but pirates such as edward low showed not one palliating feature in their infamous characters. to rob and desert a shipwrecked crew was only one of low's contemptible actions. it appears that he seldom attacked a vessel from which there seemed to be any probability of resistance, and we read of no notable combats or sea-fights in which he was engaged. he preyed upon the weak and defenceless, and his inhuman cruelties were practised, not for the sake of extorting gain from his victims, but simply to gratify his spite and love of wickedness. there were men among low's followers who looked upon him as a bold and brave leader, for he was always a blusterer and a braggart, and there were honest seamen and merchants who were very much afraid of him, but time proved that there was no reason for any one to suppose that edward low had a spark of courage in his composition. he was brave enough when he was attacking an unarmed crew, but when he had to deal with any vessel capable of inflicting any injury upon him he was a coward indeed. sailing in company with one companion vessel,--for he had discarded the greater part of his pirate fleet,--low sighted a good-sized ship at a considerable distance, and he and his consort immediately gave chase, supposing the distant vessel might prove to be a good prize. it so happened, however, that the ship discovered by low was an english man-of-war, the _greyhound_, which was cruising along the coast looking for these very pirates, who had recently committed some outrageous crimes upon the crews of merchant vessels in those waters. when the two ships, with the black flags floating above them and their decks crowded with desperate fellows armed with pistols and cutlasses, drew near to the vessel, of which they expected to make a prize, they were greatly amazed when she suddenly turned in her course and delivered a broadside from her heavy cannon. the pirates returned the fire, for they were well armed with cannon, and there was nothing else for them to do but fight, but the combat was an extremely short one. low's consort was soon disabled by the fire from the man-of-war, and, as soon as he perceived this, the dastardly low, without any regard for his companions in arms, and with no thought for anything but his own safety, immediately stopped fighting, and setting all sail, sped away from the scene of combat as swiftly as it was possible for the wind to force his vessel through the water. the disabled pirate ship was quickly captured, and not long afterwards twenty-five of her crew were tried, convicted, and hung near newport, rhode island. but the arrant low escaped without injury, and continued his career of contemptible crime for some time longer. what finally became of him is not set down in the histories of piracy. it is not improbable that if the men under his command were not too brutally stupid to comprehend his cowardly unfaithfulness to them, they suddenly removed from this world one of the least interesting of all base beings. chapter xxx the pirate of the gulf at the beginning of this century there was a very able and, indeed, talented man living on the shores of the gulf of mexico, who has been set down in the historical records of the times as a very important pirate, and who is described in story and in tradition as a gallant and romantic freebooter of the sea. this man was jean lafitte, widely known as "the pirate of the gulf," and yet who was, in fact, so little of a pirate, that it may be doubted whether or not he deserves a place in these stories of american pirates. lafitte was a french blacksmith, and, while still a young man, he came with his two brothers to new orleans, and set up a shop in bourbon street, where he did a good business in horseshoeing and in other branches of his trade. but he had a soul which soared high above his anvil and his bellows, and perceiving an opportunity to take up a very profitable occupation, he gave up blacksmithing, and with his two brothers as partners became a superintendent of privateering and a general manager of semi-legalized piracy. the business opportunity which came to the watchful and clear-sighted lafitte may be briefly described. in the early years of this century the gulf of mexico was the scene of operations of small vessels calling themselves privateers, but in fact pirates. war had broken out between england and spain, on the one side, and france on the other, and consequently the first-named nations were very glad to commission privateers to prey upon the commerce of france. there were also privateers who had been sent out by some of the central american republics who had thrown off the spanish yoke, and these, considering spanish vessels as their proper booty, were very much inclined to look upon english vessels in the same light, as the english and spanish were allies. and when a few french privateers came also upon the scene, they helped to make the business of legitimate capture of merchantmen, during the time of war, a very complicated affair. but upon one point these privateers, who so often acted as pirates, because they had not the spare time in which to work out difficult problems of nationality, were all agreed: when they had loaded their ships with booty, they must sail to some place where it would be safe to dispose of it. so, in course of time, the bay of barrataria, about forty miles south of new orleans and very well situated for an illegal settlement, was chosen as a privateers' port, and a large and flourishing colony soon grew up at the head of the bay, to which came privateers of every nationality to dispose of their cargoes. of course there was no one in the comparatively desolate country about barrataria who could buy the valuable goods which were brought into that port, but the great object of the owners of this merchandise was to smuggle it up to new orleans and dispose of it. but there could be no legitimate traffic of this sort, for the united states at the very beginning of the century was at peace with england, france, and spain, and therefore could not receive into any of her ports, goods which had been captured from the ships of these nations. consequently the plunder of the privateering pirates of barrataria was brought up to new orleans in all sorts of secret and underhand fashions, and sold to merchants in that city, without the custom house having anything to do with the importations. now this was great business; jean lafitte had a great business mind, and therefore it was not long after his arrival at barrataria before he was the head man in the colony, and director-in-chief of all its operations. thus, by becoming a prominent figure in a piratical circle, he came to be considered a pirate, and as such came down to us in the pages of history. but, in fact, lafitte never committed an act of piracy in his life; he was a blacksmith, and knew no more about sailing a ship or even the smallest kind of a boat than he knew about the proper construction of a sonnet. he did not even try, like the celebrated bonnet, to find other people who would navigate a vessel for him, for he had no taste for the ocean wave, and all that he had to do he did upon firm, dry land. it is said of him that he was never at sea but twice in his life: once when he came from france, and once when he left this country, and on neither occasion did he sail under the "jolly roger," as the pirate flag was sometimes called. for these reasons it seems scarcely right to call lafitte a pirate, but as he has been so generally considered in that light, we will admit him into the bad company, the stories of whose lives we are now telling. the energy and business abilities of jean lafitte soon made themselves felt not only in barrataria, but in new orleans. the privateers found that he managed their affairs with much discretion and considerable fairness, and, while they were willing to depend upon him, they were obliged to obey him. on the other hand, the trade of new orleans was very much influenced by the great quantities of goods which under lafitte's directions were smuggled into the city. many merchants and shopkeepers who possessed no consciences to speak of were glad to buy these smuggled goods for very little money and to sell them at low prices and large profits, but the respectable business men, who were obliged to pay market prices for their goods, were greatly disturbed by the large quantities of merchandise which were continually smuggled into new orleans and sold at rates with which they could not compete. it was toward the end of our war with england, which began in , that the government of the united states, urged to speedy action by the increasing complaints of the law-abiding merchants of new orleans, determined to send out a small naval force and entirely break up the illegitimate rendezvous at barrataria. lafitte's two brothers were in new orleans acting as his agents, and one of them, dominique, was arrested and thrown into prison, and commodore patterson, who was commanding at that station, was ordered to fit out an expedition as quickly as possible to sail down to barrataria to destroy the ships found in the bay, to capture the town, and to confiscate and seize upon all goods which might be found in the place. when jean lafitte heard of the vigorous methods which were about to be taken against him, his prospects must have been very gloomy ones, for of course he could not defend his little colony against a regular naval force, which, although its large vessels could not sail into the shallow bay, could send out boats with armed crews against which it would be foolish for him to contend. but just about this time a very strange thing happened. a strong english naval force had taken possession of pensacola, florida, and as an attack upon new orleans was contemplated, the british commander, knowing of lafitte's colony at barrataria, and believing that these hardy and reckless adventurers would be very valuable allies in the proposed movement upon the city, determined to send an ambassador to lafitte to see what could be done in the way of forming an alliance with this powerful leader of semi-pirates and smugglers. accordingly, the sloop of war _sophia_, commanded by captain lockyer, was sent to barrataria to treat with lafitte, and when this vessel arrived off the mouth of the harbor, which she could not enter, she began firing signal guns in order to attract the attention of the people of the colony. naturally enough, the report of the _sophia's_ guns created a great excitement in barrataria, and all the people who happened to be at the settlement at that time crowded out upon the beach to see what they could see. but the war-vessel was too far away for them to distinguish her nationality, and lafitte quickly made up his mind that the only thing for him to do was to row out to the mouth of the harbor and see what was the matter. without doubt he feared that this was the united states vessel which had come to break up his settlement. but whether this was the case or not, he must go out and try the effect of fair words, for he had no desire whatever to defend his interests by hard blows. before lafitte reached the vessel he was surprised to find it was a british man-of-war, not an american, and very soon he saw that a boat was coming from it and rowing toward him. this boat contained captain lockyer and two other officers, besides the men who rowed it; when the two boats met, the captain told who he was, and asked if mr. lafitte could be found in barrataria, stating that he had an important document to deliver to him. the cautious frenchman did not immediately admit that he was the man for whom the document was intended, but he said that lafitte was at barrataria, and as the two boats rowed together toward shore, he thought it would be as well to announce his position, and did so. when the crowd of privateersmen saw the officers in british uniform landing upon their beach, they were not inclined to receive them kindly, for an attack had been made upon the place by a small british force some time before, and a good deal of damage had been done. but lafitte quieted the angry feelings of his followers, conducted the officers to his own house, and treated them with great hospitality, which he was able to do in fine style, for his men brought into barrataria luxuries from all parts of the world. when lafitte opened the package of papers which captain lockyer handed to him, he was very much surprised. some of them were general proclamations announcing the intention of great britain if the people of louisiana did not submit to her demands; but the most important document was one in which colonel nichols, commander-in-chief of the british forces in the gulf, made an offer to lafitte and his followers to become a part of the british navy, promising to give amnesty to all the inhabitants of barrataria, to make their leader a captain in the navy, and to do a great many other good things, provided they would join his forces, and help him to attack the american seaports. in case, however, this offer should be refused, the barratarians were assured that their place would speedily be attacked, their vessels destroyed, and all their possessions confiscated. lafitte was now in a state of great perplexity. he did not wish to become a british captain, for his knowledge of horseshoeing would be of no service to him in such a capacity; moreover, he had no love for the british, and his sympathies were all on the side of the united states in this war. but here he was with the british commander asking him to become an ally, and to take up arms against the united states, threatening at the same time to destroy him and his colony in case of refusal. on the other hand, there was the united states at that moment preparing an expedition for the purpose of breaking up the settlement at barrataria, and to do everything which the british threatened to do, in case lafitte did not agree to their proposals. the chief of barrataria might have made a poor show with a cutlass and a brace of pistols, but he was a long-headed and sagacious man, with a strong tendency to practical diplomacy. he was in a bad scrape, and he must act with decision and promptness, if he wanted to get out of it. the first thing he did was to gain time by delaying his answer to the proposition brought by captain lockyer. he assured that officer that he must consult with his people and see what they would do, and that he must also get rid of some truculent members of the colony, who would never agree to act in concert with england, and that therefore he should not be able to give an answer to colonel nichols for two weeks. captain lockyer saw for himself that it would not be an easy matter to induce these independent and unruly fellows, many of whom already hated england, to enter into the british service. therefore he thought it would be wise to allow lafitte the time he asked for, and he sailed away, promising to return in fifteen days. the diplomatic lafitte, having finished for a time his negotiations with the british, lost no time in communicating with the american authorities. he sent to governor claiborne, of louisiana, all the documents he had received from captain lockyer, and wrote him a letter in which he told him everything that had happened, and thus gave to the united states the first authentic information of the proposed attack upon mobile and new orleans. he then told the governor that he had no intention of fighting against the country he had adopted; that he was perfectly willing and anxious to aid her in every manner possible, and that he and his followers would gladly join the united states against the british, asking nothing in return except that all proceedings against barrataria should be abandoned, that amnesty should be given to him and his men, that his brother should be released from prison, and that an act of oblivion should be passed by which the deeds of the smugglers of barrataria should be condoned and forgotten. furthermore, he said that if the united states government did not accede to his proposition, he would immediately depart from barrataria with all his men; for no matter what loss such a proceeding might prove to him he would not remain in a place where he might be forced to act against the united states. lafitte also wrote to a member of the louisiana legislature, and his letters were well calculated to produce a very good effect in his favor. the governor immediately called a council, and submitted the papers and letters received from lafitte. when these had been read, two points were considered by the council, the first being that the letters and proclamations from the british might be forgeries concocted by lafitte for the purpose of averting the punishment which was threatened by the united states; and the second, whether or not it would be consistent with the dignity of the government to treat with this leader of pirates and smugglers. the consultation resulted in a decision not to have anything to do with lafitte in the way of negotiations, and to hurry forward the preparations which had been made for the destruction of the dangerous and injurious settlement at barrataria. in consequence of this action of the council, commodore patterson sailed in a very few days down the mississippi and attacked the pirate settlement at barrataria with such effect that most of her ships were taken, many prisoners and much valuable merchandise captured, and the whole place utterly destroyed. lafitte, with the greater part of his men, had fled to the woods, and so escaped capture. captain lockyer at the appointed time arrived off the harbor of barrataria and blazed away with his signal guns for forty-eight hours, but receiving no answer, and fearing to send a boat into the harbor, suspecting treachery on the part of lafitte, he was obliged to depart in ignorance of what had happened. when the papers and letters which had been sent to governor claiborne by lafitte were made public, the people of louisiana and the rest of the country did not at all agree with the governor and his council in regard to their decision and their subsequent action, and edward livingston, a distinguished lawyer of new york, took the part of lafitte and argued very strongly in favor of his loyalty and honesty in the affair. even when it was discovered that all the information which lafitte had sent was perfectly correct, and that a formidable attack was about to be made upon new orleans, general jackson, who was in command in that part of the country, issued a very savage proclamation against the british method of making war, and among their wicked deeds he mentioned nothing which seemed to him to be worse than their endeavor to employ against the citizens of the united states the band of "hellish banditti" commanded by jean lafitte! but public opinion was strongly in favor of the ex-pirate of the gulf, and as things began to look more and more serious in regard to new orleans, general jackson was at last very glad, in spite of all that he had said, to accept the renewed offers of lafitte and his men to assist in the defence of the city, and in consequence of his change of mind many of the former inhabitants of barrataria fought in the battle of new orleans and did good work. their services were so valuable, in fact, that when the war closed president madison issued a proclamation in which it was stated that the former inhabitants of barrataria, in consequence of having abandoned their wicked ways of life, and having assisted in the defence of their country, were now granted full pardon for all the evil deeds they had previously committed. now lafitte and his men were free and independent citizens of the united states; they could live where they pleased without fear of molestation, and could enter into any sort of legal business which suited their fancy, but this did not satisfy lafitte. he had endeavored to take a prompt and honest stand on the side of his country; his offers had been treated with contempt and disbelief; he had been branded as a deceitful knave, and no disposition had been shown to act justly toward him until his services became so necessary to the government that it was obliged to accept them. consequently, lafitte, accompanied by some of his old adherents, determined to leave a country where his loyalty had received such unsatisfactory recognition, and to begin life again in some other part of the american continent. not long after the war he sailed out upon the gulf of mexico,--for what destination it is not known, but probably for some central american port,--and as nothing was ever heard of him or his party, it is believed by many persons that they all perished in the great storm which arose soon after their departure. there were other persons, however, who stated that he reached yucatan, where he died on dry land in . but the end of lafitte is no more doubtful than his right to the title given to him by people of a romantic turn of mind, and other persons of a still more fanciful disposition might be willing to suppose that the gulf of mexico, indignant at the undeserved distinction which had come to him, had swallowed him up in order to put an end to his pretension to the title of "the pirate of the gulf." chapter xxxi the pirate of the buried treasure among all the pirates who have figured in history, legend, or song, there is one whose name stands preëminent as the typical hero of the dreaded black flag. the name of this man will instantly rise in the mind of almost every reader, for when we speak of pirates we always think of captain kidd. in fact, however, captain kidd was not a typical pirate, for in many ways he was different from the ordinary marine freebooter, especially when we consider him in relation to our own country. all other pirates who made themselves notorious on our coast were known as robbers, pillagers, and ruthless destroyers of life and property, but captain kidd's fame was of another kind. we do not think of him as a pirate who came to carry away the property of american citizens, for nearly all the stories about him relate to his arrival at different points on our shores for the sole purpose of burying and thus concealing the rich treasures which he had collected in other parts of the world. this novel reputation given a pirate who enriched our shore by his deposits and took away none of the possessions of our people could not fail to make captain kidd a most interesting personage, and the result has been that he has been lifted out of the sphere of ordinary history and description into the region of imagination and legendary romance. in a word, he has been made a hero of fiction and song. it may be well, then, to assume that there are two captain kidds,--one the kidd of legend and story, and the other the kidd of actual fact, and we will consider, one at a time, the two characters in which we know the man. as has been said before, nearly all the stories of the legendary captain kidd relate to his visits along our northern coast, and even to inland points, for the purpose of concealing the treasures which had been amassed in other parts of the world. thus if we were to find ourselves in almost any village or rural settlement along the coast of new jersey or long island, and were to fall in with any old resident who was fond of talking to strangers, he would probably point out to us the blackened and weather-beaten ribs of a great ship which had been wrecked on the sand bar off the coast during a terrible storm long ago; he would show us where the bathing was pleasant and safe; he would tell us of the best place for fishing, and probably show us the high bluff a little back from the beach from which the indian maiden leaped to escape the tomahawk of her enraged lover, and then he would be almost sure to tell us of the secluded spot where it was said captain kidd and his pirates once buried a lot of treasure. if we should ask our garrulous guide why this treasure had not been dug up by the people of the place, he would probably shake his head and declare that personally he knew nothing about it, but that it was generally believed that it was there, and he had heard that there had been people who had tried to find it, but if they did find any they never said anything about it, and it was his opinion that if captain kidd ever put any gold or silver or precious stones under the ground on that part of the coast these treasures were all there yet. further questioning would probably develop the fact that there was a certain superstition which prevented a great many people from interfering with the possible deposits which captain kidd had made in their neighborhood, and although few persons would be able to define exactly the foundation of the superstition, it was generally supposed that most of the pirates' treasures were guarded by pirate ghosts. in that case, of course, timid individuals would be deterred from going out by themselves at night,--for that was the proper time to dig for buried treasure,--and as it would not have been easy to get together a number of men each brave enough to give the others courage, many of the spots reputed to be the repositories of buried treasure have never been disturbed. in spite of the fear of ghosts, in spite of the want of accurate knowledge in regard to favored localities, in spite of hardships, previous disappointments, or expected ridicule, a great many extensive excavations have been made in the sands or the soil along the coasts of our northern states, and even in quiet woods lying miles from the sea, to which it would have been necessary for the pirates to carry their goods in wagons, people have dug and hoped and have gone away sadly to attend to more sensible business, and far up some of our rivers--where a pirate vessel never floated--people have dug with the same hopeful anxiety, and have stopped digging in the same condition of dejected disappointment. sometimes these enterprises were conducted on a scale which reminds us of the operations on the gold coast of california. companies were organized, stock was issued and subscribed for, and the excavations were conducted under the direction of skilful treasure-seeking engineers. it is said that not long ago a company was organized in nova scotia for the purpose of seeking for captain kidd's treasures in a place which it is highly probable captain kidd never saw. a great excavation having been made, the water from the sea came in and filled it up, but the work was stopped only long enough to procure steam pumps with which the big hole could be drained. at last accounts the treasures had not been reached, and this incident is mentioned only to show how this belief in buried treasures continues even to the present day. there is a legend which differs somewhat from the ordinary run of these stories, and it is told about a little island on the coast of cape cod, which is called hannah screecher's island, and this is the way its name came to it. captain kidd while sailing along the coast, looking for a suitable place to bury some treasure, found this island adapted to his purpose, and landed there with his savage crew, and his bags and boxes, and his gold and precious stones. it was said to be the habit of these pirates, whenever they made a deposit on the coast, to make the hole big enough not only to hold the treasure they wished to deposit there, but the body of one of the crew,--who was buried with the valuables in order that his spirit might act as a day and night watchman to frighten away people who might happen to be digging in that particular spot. the story relates that somewhere on the coast captain kidd had captured a young lady named hannah, and not knowing what to do with her, and desiring not to commit an unnecessary extravagance by disposing of a useful sailor, he determined to kill hannah, and bury her with the treasure, in order that she might keep away intruders until he came for it. it was very natural that when hannah was brought on shore and found out what was going to be done with her, she should screech in a most dreadful manner, and although the pirates soon silenced her and covered her up, they did not succeed in silencing her spirit, and ever since that time,--according to the stories told by some of the older inhabitants of cape cod,--there may be heard in the early dusk of the evening the screeches of hannah coming across the water from her little island to the mainland. mr. james herbert morse has written a ballad founded upon this peculiar incident, and with the permission of the author we give it here:-- the lady hannah. "now take my hand," quoth captain kidd, "the air is blithe, i scent the meads." he led her up the starlit sands, out of the rustling reeds. the great white owl then beat his breast, athwart the cedars whirred and flew; "there's death in our handsome captain's eye" murmured the pirate's crew. and long they lay upon their oars and cursed the silence and the chill; they cursed the wail of the rising wind, for no man dared be still. of ribald songs they sang a score to stifle the midnight sobs and sighs, they told wild tales of the indian main, to drown the far-off cries. but when they ceased, and captain kidd came down the sands of dead neck isle, "my lady wearies," he grimly said, "and she would rest awhile. "i've made her a bed--'tis here, 'tis there, and she shall wake, be it soon or long, where grass is green and wild birds sing and the wind makes undersong. "be quick, my men, and give a hand, she loved soft furs and silken stuff, jewels of gold and silver bars, and she shall have enough. "with silver bars and golden ore, so fine a lady she shall be, a many suitor shall seek her long, as they sought penelope. "and if a lover would win her hand, no lips e'er kissed a hand so white, and if a lover would hear her sing, she sings at owlet light. "but if a lover would win her gold, and his hands be strong to lift the lid, 'tis here, 'tis there, 'tis everywhere-- in the chest," quoth captain kidd. they lifted long, they lifted well, ingots of gold, and silver bars, and silken plunder from wild, wild wars, but where they laid them, no man can tell, though known to a thousand stars. but the ordinary kidd stories are very much the same, and depend a good deal upon the character of the coast and upon the imagination of the people who live in that region. we will give one of them as a sample, and from this a number of very good pirate stories could be manufactured by ingenious persons. it was a fine summer night late in the seventeenth century. a young man named abner stout, in company with his wife mary, went out for a walk upon the beach. they lived in a little village near the coast of new jersey. abner was a good carpenter, but a poor man; but he and his wife were very happy with each other, and as they walked toward the sea in the light of the full moon, no young lovers could have been more gay. when they reached a little bluff covered with low shrubbery, which was the first spot from which they could have a full view of the ocean, abner suddenly stopped, and pointed out to mary an unusual sight. there, as plainly in view as if it had been broad daylight, was a vessel lying at the entrance of the little bay. the sails were furled, and it was apparently anchored. for a minute abner gazed in utter amazement at the sight of this vessel, for no ships, large or small, came to this little lonely bay. there was a harbor two or three miles farther up the coast to which all trading craft repaired. what could the strange ship want here? this unusual visitor to the little bay was a very low and very long, black schooner, with tall masts which raked forward, and with something which looked very much like a black flag fluttering in its rigging. now the truth struck into the soul of abner. "hide yourself, mary," he whispered. "it is a pirate ship!" and almost at the same instant the young man and his wife laid themselves flat on the ground among the bushes, but they were very careful, each of them, to take a position which would allow them to peep out through the twigs and leaves upon the scene before them. there seemed to be a good deal of commotion on board the black schooner, and very soon a large boat pushed off from her side, and the men in it began rowing rapidly toward the shore, apparently making for a spot on the beach, not far from the bluff on which abner and mary were concealed. "let us get up and run," whispered mary, trembling from head to toe. "they are pirates, and they are coming here!" "lie still! lie still!" said abner. "if we get up and leave these bushes, we shall be seen, and then they will be after us! lie still, and do not move a finger!" the trembling mary obeyed her husband, and they both lay quite still, scarcely breathing, with eyes wide open. the boat rapidly approached the shore. abner counted ten men rowing and one man sitting in the stern. the boat seemed to be heavily loaded, and the oarsmen rowed hard. now the boat was run through the surf to the beach, and its eleven occupants jumped out. there was no mistaking their character. they were true pirates. they had great cutlasses and pistols, and one of them was very tall and broad shouldered, and wore an old-fashioned cocked hat. "that's captain kidd," whispered abner to his wife, and she pressed his hand to let him know that she thought he must be right. now the men came up high upon the beach, and began looking about here and there as if they were searching for something. mary was filled with horror for fear they should come to that bluff to search, but abner knew there was no danger of that. they had probably come to those shores to bury treasure, as if they were great sea-turtles coming up upon the beach to lay their eggs, and they were now looking for some good spot where they might dig. presently the tall man gave some orders in a low voice, and then his men left him to himself, and went back to the boat. there was a great pine tree standing back a considerable distance from the water, battered and racked by storms, but still a tough old tree. toward this the pirate captain stalked, and standing close to it, with his back against it, he looked up into the sky. it was plain that he was looking for a star. there were very few of these luminaries to be seen in the heavens, for the moon was so bright. but as abner looked in the direction in which the pirate captain gazed, he saw a star still bright in spite of the moonlight. with his eyes fixed upon this star, the pirate captain now stepped forward, making long strides. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. then he stopped, plunged his right heel in the soft ground, and turned squarely about to the left, so that his broad back was now parallel with a line drawn from the pine tree to the star. at right angles to this line the pirate now stepped forward, making as before seven long paces. then he stopped, dug his heel into the ground, and beckoned to his men. up they came running, carrying picks and spades, and with great alacrity they began to dig at the place where the captain had marked with his heel. it was plain that these pirates were used to making excavations, for it was not long before the hole was so deep that those within it could not be seen. then the captain gave an order to cease digging, and he and all the pirates went back to the boat. for about half an hour,--though mary thought it was a longer time than that,--those pirates worked very hard carrying great boxes and bags from the boat to the excavation. when everything had been brought up, two of the pirates went down into the hole, and the others handed to them the various packages. skilfully and quickly they worked, doubtless storing their goods with great care, until nearly everything which had been brought from the boat had been placed in the deep hole. some rolls of goods were left upon the ground which mary thought were carpets, but which abner believed to be rich persian rugs, or something of that kind. now the captain stepped aside, and picking up from the sand some little sticks and reeds, he selected ten of them, and with these in one hand, and with their ends protruding a short distance above his closed fingers, he rejoined his men. they gathered before him, and he held out toward them the hand which contained the little sticks. "they're drawing lots!" gasped abner, and mary trembled more than she had done yet. now the lots were all drawn, and one man, apparently a young pirate, stepped out from among his fellows. his head was bowed, and his arms were folded across his manly chest. the captain spoke a few words, and the young pirate advanced alone to the side of the deep hole. mary now shut her eyes tight, tight; but abner's were wide open. there was a sudden gleam of cutlasses in the air; there was one short, plaintive groan, and the body of the young pirate fell into the hole. instantly all the other goods, furs, rugs, or whatever they were, were tumbled in upon him. then the men began to shovel in the earth and sand, and in an incredibly short time the hole was filled up even with the ground about it. of course all the earth and sand which had been taken out of the hole could not now be put back into it. but these experienced treasure-hiders knew exactly what to do with it. a spadeful at a time, the soil which could not be replaced was carried to the sea, and thrown out into the water, and when the whole place had been carefully smoothed over, the pirates gathered sticks and stones, and little bushes, and great masses of wild cranberry vines, and scattered them about over the place so that it soon looked exactly like the rest of the beach about it. then the tall captain gave another low command, the pirates returned to their boat, it was pushed off, and rapidly rowed back to the schooner. up came the anchor, up went the dark sails. the low, black schooner was put about, and very soon she was disappearing over the darkening waters, her black flag fluttering fiercely high above her. "now, let us run," whispered poor mary, who, although she had not seen everything, imagined a great deal; for as the pirates were getting into their boat she had opened her eyes and had counted them, and there were only nine beside the tall captain. abner thought that her advice was very good, and starting up out of the brushwood they hastened home as fast as their legs would carry them. [illustration: "two of the pirates went down into the hole."--p. .] the next day abner seemed to be a changed man. he had work to do, but he neglected it. never had such a thing happened before! for hours he sat in front of the house, looking up into the sky, counting one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. then he would twist himself around on the little bench, and count seven more. this worthy couple lived in a small house which had a large cellar, and during the afternoon of that day abner busied himself in clearing out this cellar, and taking out of it everything which it had contained. his wife asked no questions. in her soul she knew what abner was thinking about. supper was over, and most of the people in the village were thinking of going to bed, when abner said to mary, "let us each take a spade, and i will carry a pail, and we will go out upon the beach for a walk. if any one should see us, they would think that we were going to dig for clams." "oh, no, dear abner!" cried mary. "we must not dig there! think of that young pirate. almost the first thing we would come to would be him!" "i have thought of that," said abner; "but do you not believe that the most christian act that you and i could do would be to take him out and place him in a proper grave near by?" "oh, no!" exclaimed mary, "do not say such a thing as that! think of his ghost! they killed him and put him there, that his ghost might guard their treasure. you know, abner, as well as i do, that this is their dreadful fashion!" "i know all about that," said abner, "and that is the reason i wish to go to-night. i do not believe there has yet been time enough for his ghost to form. but let us take him out now, dear mary, and lay him reverently away,--and then!" he looked at her with flashing eyes. "but, abner," said she, "do you think we have the right?" "of course we have," said he. "those treasures do not belong to the pirates. if we take them they are treasure-trove, and legally ours. and think, dear mary, how poor we are to-night, and how rich we may be to-morrow! come, get the pail. we must be off." running nearly all the way,--for they were in such a hurry they could not walk,--abner and mary soon reached the bluff, and hastily scrambling down to the beach below, they stood upon the dreadful spot where captain kidd and his pirates had stood the night before. there was the old battered pine tree, reaching out two of its bare arms encouragingly toward them. without loss of time abner walked up to the tree, put his back to it, and then looked up into the sky. now he called mary to him. "which star do you think he looked at, good wife?" said he. "there is a bright one low down, and then there is another one a little higher up, and farther to the right, but it is fainter." "it would be the bright one, i think," said mary. and then abner, his eyes fixed upon the bright star, commenced to stride. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. turning squarely around to the left he again made seven paces. and now he beckoned vigorously to mary to come and dig. for about ten minutes they dug, and then they laid bare a great mass of rock. "this isn't the place," cried abner. "i must begin again. i did not look at the right star. i will take the other one." for the greater part of that night abner and mary remained upon the beach. abner would put his back against the tree, fix his eyes upon another star, stride forward seven paces, and then seven to the left, and he would come upon a little scrubby pine tree. of course that was not the place. the moon soon began to set, and more stars came out, so that abner had a greater choice. again and again he made his measurements, and every time that he came to the end of his second seven paces, he found that it would have been impossible for the pirates to make their excavation there. there was clearly something wrong. abner thought that he had not selected the right star, and mary thought that his legs were not long enough. "that pirate captain," quoth she, "had a long and manly stride. seven of his paces would go a far greater distance than seven of yours, abner." abner made his paces a little longer; but although he and his wife kept up their work until they could see the early dawn, they found no spot where it would be worth while to dig, and so mournfully they returned to their home and their empty cellar. as long as the moonlight lasted, abner and mary went to the little beach at the head of the bay, and made their measurements and their searches but although they sometimes dug a little here and there, they always found that they had not struck the place where the pirate's treasure had been buried. when at last they gave up their search, and concluded to put their household goods back into their cellar, they told the tale to some of the neighbors, and other people went out and dug, not only at the place which had been designated, but miles up and down the coast, and then the story was told and retold, and so it has lasted until the present day. what has been said about the legendary captain kidd will give a very good idea of the estimation in which this romantic being has been, and still is, held in various parts of the country, and, of all the legitimate legends about him, there is not one which recounts his piratical deeds upon our coast. the reason for this will be seen when we consider, in the next chapter, the life and character of the real captain kidd. chapter xxxii the real captain kidd william kidd, or robert kidd, as he is sometimes called, was a sailor in the merchant service who had a wife and family in new york. he was a very respectable man and had a good reputation as a seaman, and about , when there was war between england and france, kidd was given the command of a privateer, and having had two or three engagements with french vessels he showed himself to be a brave fighter and a prudent commander. some years later he sailed to england, and, while there, he received an appointment of a peculiar character. it was at the time when the king of england was doing his best to put down the pirates of the american coast, and sir george bellomont, the recently appointed governor of new york, recommended captain kidd as a very suitable man to command a ship to be sent out to suppress piracy. when kidd agreed to take the position of chief of marine police, he was not employed by the crown, but by a small company of gentlemen of capital, who formed themselves into a sort of trust company, or society for the prevention of cruelty to merchantmen, and the object of their association was not only to put down pirates, but to put some money in their own pockets as well. kidd was furnished with two commissions, one appointing him a privateer with authority to capture french vessels, and the other empowering him to seize and destroy all pirate ships. kidd was ordered in his mission to keep a strict account of all booty captured, in order that it might be fairly divided among those who were stockholders in the enterprise, one-tenth of the total proceeds being reserved for the king. kidd sailed from england in the _adventure_, a large ship with thirty guns and eighty men, and on his way to america he captured a french ship which he carried to new york. here he arranged to make his crew a great deal larger than had been thought necessary in england, and, by offering a fair share of the property he might confiscate on piratical or french ships, he induced a great many able seamen to enter his service, and when the _adventure_ left new york she carried a crew of one hundred and fifty-five men. with a fine ship and a strong crew, kidd now sailed out of the harbor with the ostensible purpose of putting down piracy in american waters, but the methods of this legally appointed marine policeman were very peculiar, and, instead of cruising up and down our coast, he gayly sailed away to the island of madeira, and then around the cape of good hope to madagascar and the red sea, thus getting himself as far out of his regular beat as any new york constable would have been had he undertaken to patrol the dominions of the khan of tartary. by the time captain kidd reached that part of the world he had been at sea for nearly a year without putting down any pirates or capturing any french ships. in fact, he had made no money whatever for himself or the stockholders of the company which had sent him out. his men, of course, must have been very much surprised at this unusual neglect of his own and his employers' interests, but when he reached the red sea, he boldly informed them that he had made a change in his business, and had decided that he would be no longer a suppressor of piracy, but would become a pirate himself; and, instead of taking prizes of french ships only,--which he was legally empowered to do,--he would try to capture any valuable ship he could find on the seas, no matter to what nation it belonged. he then went on to state that his present purpose in coming into those oriental waters was to capture the rich fleet from mocha which was due in the lower part of the red sea about that time. the crew of the _adventure_, who must have been tired of having very little to do and making no money, expressed their entire approbation of their captain's change of purpose, and readily agreed to become pirates. kidd waited a good while for the mocha fleet, but it did not arrive, and then he made his first venture in actual piracy. he overhauled a moorish vessel which was commanded by an english captain, and as england was not at war with morocco, and as the nationality of the ship's commander should have protected him, kidd thus boldly broke the marine laws which governed the civilized world and stamped himself an out-and-out pirate. after the exercise of considerable cruelty he extorted from his first prize a small amount of money; and although he and his men did not gain very much booty, they had whetted their appetites for more, and kidd cruised savagely over the eastern seas in search of other spoils. after a time the _adventure_ fell in with a fine english ship, called the _royal captain_, and although she was probably laden with a rich cargo, kidd did not attack her. his piratical character was not yet sufficiently formed to give him the disloyal audacity which would enable him with his english ship and his english crew, to fall upon another english ship manned by another english crew. in time his heart might be hardened, but he felt that he could not begin with this sort of thing just yet. so the _adventure_ saluted the _royal captain_ with ceremonious politeness, and each vessel passed quietly on its way. but this conscientious consideration did not suit kidd's crew. they had already had a taste of booty, and they were hungry for more, and when the fine english vessel, of which they might so easily have made a prize, was allowed to escape them, they were loud in their complaints and grumblings. one of the men, a gunner, named william moore, became actually impertinent upon the subject, and he and captain kidd had a violent quarrel, in the course of which the captain picked up a heavy iron-bound bucket and struck the dissatisfied gunner on the head with it. the blow was such a powerful one that the man's skull was broken, and he died the next day. captain kidd's conscience seems to have been a good deal in his way; for although he had been sailing about in various eastern waters, taking prizes wherever he could, he was anxious that reports of his misdeeds should not get home before him. having captured a fine vessel bound westward, he took from her all the booty he could, and then proceeded to arrange matters so that the capture of this ship should appear to be a legal transaction. the ship was manned by moors and commanded by a dutchman, and of course kidd had no right to touch it, but the sharp-witted and business-like pirate selected one of the passengers and made him sign a paper declaring that he was a frenchman, and that he commanded the ship. when this statement had been sworn to before witnesses, kidd put the document in his pocket so that if he were called upon to explain the transaction he might be able to show that he had good reason to suppose that he had captured a french ship, which, of course, was all right and proper. kidd now ravaged the east india waters with great success and profit, and at last he fell in with a very fine ship from armenia, called the _quedagh merchant_, commanded by an englishman. kidd's conscience had been growing harder and harder every day, and he did not now hesitate to attack any vessel. the great merchantman was captured, and proved to be one of the most valuable prizes ever taken by a pirate, for kidd's own share of the spoils amounted to more than sixty thousand dollars. this was such a grand haul that kidd lost no time in taking his prize to some place where he might safely dispose of her cargo, and get rid of her passengers. accordingly he sailed for madagascar. while he was there he fell in with the first pirate vessel he had met since he had started out to put down piracy. this was a ship commanded by an english pirate named culliford, and here would have been a chance for captain kidd to show that, although he might transgress the law himself, he would be true to his engagement not to allow other people to do so; but he had given up putting down piracy, and instead of apprehending culliford he went into partnership with him, and the two agreed to go pirating together. this partnership, however, did not continue long, for captain kidd began to believe that it was time for him to return to his native country and make a report of his proceedings to his employers. having confined his piratical proceedings to distant parts of the world, he hoped that he would be able to make sir george bellomont and the other stockholders suppose that his booty was all legitimately taken from french vessels cruising in the east, and when the proper division should be made he would be able to quietly enjoy his portion of the treasure he had gained. he did not go back in the _adventure_, which was probably not large enough to carry all the booty he had amassed, but putting everything on board his latest prize, the _quedagh merchant_, he burned his old ship and sailed homeward. when he reached the west indies, however, our wary sea-robber was very much surprised to find that accounts of his evil deeds had reached america, and that the colonial authorities had been so much incensed by the news that the man who had been sent out to suppress piracy had become himself a pirate, that they had circulated notices throughout the different colonies, urging the arrest of kidd if he should come into any american port. this was disheartening intelligence for the treasure-laden captain kidd, but he did not despair; he knew that the love of money was often as strong in the minds of human beings as the love of justice. sir george bellomont, who was now in new york, was one of the principal stockholders in the enterprise, and kidd hoped that the rich share of the results of his industry which would come to the governor might cause unpleasant reports to be disregarded. in this case he might yet return to his wife and family with a neat little fortune, and without danger of being called upon to explain his exceptional performances in the eastern seas. of course kidd was not so foolish and rash as to sail into new york harbor on board the _quedagh merchant_, so he bought a small sloop and put the most valuable portion of his goods on board her, leaving his larger vessel, which also contained a great quantity of merchandise, in the charge of one of his confederates, and in the little sloop he cautiously approached the coast of new jersey. his great desire was to find out what sort of a reception he might expect, so he entered delaware bay, and when he stopped at a little seaport in order to take in some supplies, he discovered that there was but small chance of his visiting his home and his family, and of making a report to his superior in the character of a deserving mariner who had returned after a successful voyage. some people in the village recognized him, and the report soon spread to new york that the pirate kidd was lurking about the coast. a sloop of war was sent out to capture his vessel, and finding that it was impossible to remain in the vicinity where he had been discovered, kidd sailed northward and entered long island sound. here the shrewd and anxious pirate began to act the part of the watch dog who has been killing sheep. in every way he endeavored to assume the appearance of innocence and to conceal every sign of misbehavior. he wrote to sir george bellomont that he should have called upon him in order to report his proceedings and hand over his profits, were it not for the wicked and malicious reports which had been circulated about him. it was during this period of suspense, when the returned pirate did not know what was likely to happen, that it is supposed, by the believers in the hidden treasures of kidd, that he buried his coin and bullion and his jewels, some in one place and some in another, so that if he were captured his riches would not be taken with him. among the wild stories which were believed at that time, and for long years after, was one to the effect that captain kidd's ship was chased up the hudson river by a man-of-war, and that the pirates, finding they could not get away, sank their ship and fled to the shore with all the gold and silver they could carry, which they afterwards buried at the foot of dunderbergh mountain. a great deal of rocky soil has been turned over at different times in search of these treasures, but no discoveries of hidden coin have yet been reported. the fact is, however, that during this time of anxious waiting kidd never sailed west of oyster bay in long island. he was afraid to approach new york, although he had frequent communication with that city, and was joined by his wife and family. about this time occurred an incident which has given rise to all the stories regarding the buried treasure of captain kidd. the disturbed and anxious pirate concluded that it was a dangerous thing to keep so much valuable treasure on board his vessel which might at any time be overhauled by the authorities, and he therefore landed at gardiner's island on the long island coast, and obtained permission from the proprietor to bury some of his superfluous stores upon his estate. this was a straightforward transaction. mr. gardiner knew all about the burial of the treasure, and when it was afterwards proved that kidd was really a pirate the hidden booty was all given up to the government. this appears to be the only case in which it was positively known that kidd buried treasure on our coast, and it has given rise to all the stories of the kind which have ever been told. for some weeks kidd's sloop remained in long island sound, and then he took courage and went to boston to see some influential people there. he was allowed to go freely about the city for a week, and then he was arrested. the rest of kidd's story is soon told; he was sent to england for trial, and there he was condemned to death, not only for the piracies he had committed, but also for the murder of william moore. he was executed, and his body was hung in chains on the banks of the thames, where for years it dangled in the wind, a warning to all evil-minded sailors. about the time of kidd's trial and execution a ballad was written which had a wide circulation in england and america. it was set to music, and for many years helped to spread the fame of this pirate. the ballad was a very long one, containing nearly twenty-six verses, and some of them run as follows:-- my name was robert kidd, when i sailed, when i sailed, my name was robert kidd, when i sailed, my name was robert kidd, god's laws i did forbid, and so wickedly i did, when i sailed. my parents taught me well, when i sailed, when i sailed, my parents taught me well when i sailed, my parents taught me well to shun the gates of hell, but 'gainst them i rebelled, when i sailed. i'd a bible in my hand, when i sailed, when i sailed, i'd a bible in my hand when i sailed, i'd a bible in my hand, by my father's great command, and sunk it in the sand, when i sailed. i murdered william moore, as i sailed, as i sailed, i murdered william moore as i sailed, i murdered william moore, and laid him in his gore, not many leagues from shore, as i sailed. i was sick and nigh to death, when i sailed, when i sailed, i was sick and nigh to death when i sailed, i was sick and nigh to death, and i vowed at every breath, to walk in wisdom's ways, as i sailed. i thought i was undone, as i sailed, as i sailed, i thought i was undone, as i sailed, i thought i was undone, and my wicked glass had run, but health did soon return, as i sailed. my repentance lasted not, as i sailed, as i sailed, my repentance lasted not, as i sailed, my repentance lasted not, my vows i soon forgot, damnation was my lot, as i sailed. i spyed the ships from france, as i sailed, as i sailed, i spyed the ships from france, as i sailed, i spyed the ships from france, to them i did advance, and took them all by chance, as i sailed. i spyed the ships of spain, as i sailed, as i sailed, i spyed the ships of spain, as i sailed, i spyed the ships of spain, i fired on them amain, 'till most of them was slain, as i sailed. i'd ninety bars of gold, as i sailed, as i sailed, i'd ninety bars of gold, as i sailed, i'd ninety bars of gold, and dollars manifold, with riches uncontrolled, as i sailed. thus being o'er-taken at last, i must die, i must die, thus being o'er-taken at last, i must die, thus being o'er-taken at last, and into prison cast, and sentence being passed, i must die. farewell, the raging main, i must die, i must die, farewell, the raging main, i must die, farewell, the raging main, to turkey, france, and spain, i shall ne'er see you again, i must die. to execution dock i must go, i must go, to execution dock i must go, to execution dock, will many thousands flock, but i must bear the shock, and must die. come all ye young and old, see me die, see me die, come all ye young and old, see me die, come all ye young and old, you're welcome to my gold, for by it i've lost my soul, and must die. take warning now by me, for i must die, for i must die, take warning now by me, for i must die, take warning now by me, and shun bad company, lest you come to hell with me, for i die. it is said that kidd showed no repentance when he was tried, but insisted that he was the victim of malicious persons who swore falsely against him. and yet a more thoroughly dishonest rascal never sailed under the black flag. in the guise of an accredited officer of the government, he committed the crimes he was sent out to suppress; he deceived his men; he robbed and misused his fellow-countrymen and his friends, and he even descended to the meanness of cheating and despoiling the natives of the west india islands, with whom he traded. these people were in the habit of supplying pirates with food and other necessaries, and they always found their rough customers entirely honest, and willing to pay for what they received; for as the pirates made a practice of stopping at certain points for supplies, they wished, of course, to be on good terms with those who furnished them. but kidd had no ideas of honor toward people of high or low degree. he would trade with the natives as if he intended to treat them fairly and pay for all he got; but when the time came for him to depart, and he was ready to weigh anchor, he would seize upon all the commodities he could lay his hands upon, and without paying a copper to the distressed and indignant indians, he would gayly sail away, his black flag flaunting derisively in the wind. but although in reality captain kidd was no hero, he has been known for a century and more as the great american pirate, and his name has been representative of piracy ever since. years after he had been hung, when people heard that a vessel with a black flag, or one which looked black in the distance, flying from its rigging had been seen, they forgot that the famous pirate was dead, and imagined that captain kidd was visiting their part of the coast in order that he might find a good place to bury some treasure which it was no longer safe for him to carry about. there were two great reasons for the fame of captain kidd. one of these was the fact that he had been sent out by important officers of the crown who expected to share the profits of his legitimate operations, but who were supposed by their enemies to be perfectly willing to take any sort of profits provided it could not be proved that they were the results of piracy, and who afterwards allowed kidd to suffer for their sins as well as his own. these opinions introduced certain political features into his career and made him a very much talked-of man. the greater reason for his fame, however, was the widespread belief in his buried treasures, and this made him the object of the most intense interest to hundreds of misguided people who hoped to be lucky enough to share his spoils. there were other pirates on the american coast during the eighteenth century, and some of them became very well known, but their stories are not uncommon, and we need not tell them here. as our country became better settled, and as well-armed revenue cutters began to cruise up and down our atlantic coast for the protection of our commerce, pirates became fewer and fewer, and even those who were still bold enough to ply their trade grew milder in their manners, less daring in their exploits, and--more important than anything else--so unsuccessful in their illegal enterprises that they were forced to admit that it was now more profitable to command or work a merchantman than endeavor to capture one, and so the sea-robbers of our coasts gradually passed away. the expansion of the republic series. the history of puerto rico from the spanish discovery to the american occupation by r.a. van middeldyk edited by martin g. brumbaugh, ph.d., ll.d. professor of pedagogy, university of pennsylvania and first commissioner of education for puerto rico copyright, [illustration: columbus statue, san juan.] editor's preface the latest permanent possession of the united states is also the oldest in point of european occupation. the island of puerto rico was discovered by columbus in . it was occupied by the united states army at guanica july , . spain formally evacuated the island october , , and military government was established until congress made provision for its control. by act of congress, approved april , , the military control terminated and civil government was formally instituted may , . puerto rico has an interesting history. its four centuries under spanish control is a record of unusual and remarkable events. this record is unknown to the american people. it has never been written satisfactorily in the spanish language, and not at all in the english language. the author of this volume is the first to give to the reader of english a record of spanish rule in this "pearl of the antilles." mr. van middeldyk is the librarian of the free public library of san juan, an institution created under american civil control. he has had access to all data obtainable in the island, and has faithfully and conscientiously woven this data into a connected narrative, thus giving the reader a view of the social and institutional life of the island for four hundred years. the author has endeavored to portray salient characteristics of the life on the island, to describe the various acts of the reigning government, to point out the evils of colonial rule, and to figure the general historical and geographical conditions in a manner that enables the reader to form a fairly accurate judgment of the past and present state of puerto rico. no attempt has been made to speculate upon the setting of this record in the larger record of spanish life. that is a work for the future. but enough history of spain and in general of continental europe is given to render intelligible the various and varied governmental activities exercised by spain in the island. there is, no doubt, much omitted that future research may reveal, and yet it is just to state that the record is fairly continuous, and that no salient factors in the island's history have been overlooked. the people of puerto rico were loyal and submissive to their parent government. no record of revolts and excessive rioting is recorded. the island has been continuously profitable to spain. with even ordinarily fair administration of government the people have been self-supporting, and in many cases have rendered substantial aid to other spanish possessions. her native life--the boriquén indians--rapidly became extinct, due to the "gold fever" and the intermarriage of races. the peon class has always been a faithful laboring class in the coffee, sugar, and tobacco estates, and the slave element was never large. a few landowners and the professional classes dominate the island's life. there is no middle class. there is an utter absence of the legitimate fruits of democratic institutions. the poor are in every way objects of pity and of sympathy. they are the hope of the island. by education, widely diffused, a great unrest will ensue, and from this unrest will come the social, moral, and civic uplift of the people. these people do not suffer from the lack of civilization. they suffer from the kind of civilization they have endured. the life of the people is static. her institutions and customs are so set upon them that one is most impressed with the absence of legitimate activities. the people are stoically content. such, at least, was the condition in . under the military government of the united states much was done to prepare the way for future advance. its weakness was due to its effectiveness. it did for the people what they should learn to do for themselves. the island needed a radically new governmental activity--an activity that would develop each citizen into a self-respecting and self-directing force in the island's uplift. this has been supplied by the institution of civil government. the outlook of the people is now infinitely better than ever before. the progress now being made is permanent. it is an advance made by the people for themselves. civil government is the fundamental need of the island. under civil government the entire reorganization of the life of the people is being rapidly effected. the agricultural status of the island was never so hopeful. the commercial activity is greatly increased. the educational awakening is universal and healthy. notwithstanding the disastrous cyclone of , and the confusion incident to a radical governmental reorganization, the wealth per capita has increased, the home life is improved, and the illiteracy of the people is being rapidly lessened. president mckinley declared to the writer that it was his desire "to put the conscience of the american people into the islands of the sea." this has been done. the result is apparent. under wise and conservative guidance by the american executive officers, the people of puerto rico have turned to this republic with a patriotism, a zeal, an enthusiasm that is, perhaps, without a parallel. in , under president mckinley as commander-in-chief, the army of the united states forcibly invaded this island. this occupation, by the treaty of paris, became permanent. congress promptly provided civil government for the island, and in this conquered people, almost one million in number, shared in the keen grief that attended universally the untimely death of their conqueror. the island on the occasion of the martyr's death was plunged in profound sorrow, and at a hundred memorial services president mckinley was mourned by thousands, and he was tenderly characterized as "the founder of human liberty in puerto rico." the judgment of the american people relative to this island is based upon meager data. the legal processes attending its entrance into the union have been the occasion of much comment. this comment has invariably lent itself to a discussion of the effect of judicial decision upon our home institutions. it has been largely a speculative concern. in some cases it has become a political concern in the narrowest partizan sense. the effect of all this upon the people of puerto rico has not been considered. their rights and their needs have not come to us. we have not taken president mckinley's broad, humane, and exalted view of our obligation to these people. they have implicitly entrusted their life, liberty, and property to our guardianship. the great republic has a debt of honor to the island which indifference and ignorance of its needs can never pay. it is hoped that this record of their struggles during four centuries will be a welcome source of insight and guidance to the people of the united states in their efforts to see their duty and do it. m. g. brumbaugh. philadelphia, _january , _. author's preface some years ago, mr. manuel elzaburu, president of the san juan provincial atheneum, in a public speech, gave it as his opinion that the modern historian of puerto rico had yet to appear. this was said, not in disparagement of the island's only existing history, but rather as a confirmation of the general opinion that the book which does duty as such is incorrect and incomplete. this book is friar iñigo abbad's historia de la isla san juan bautista, which was written in by disposition of the count of floridablanca, the minister of colonies of charles iii, and published in madrid in . in it was reproduced in san juan without any change in the text, and in mr. josé julian acosta published a new edition with copious notes, comments, and additions, which added much data relative to the benedictine monks, corrected numerous errors, and supplemented the chapters, some of which, in the original, are exceedingly short, the whole history terminating abruptly with the nineteenth chapter, that is, with the beginning of the eighteenth century. the remaining chapters are merely descriptive of the country and people. besides this work there are others by puerto rican authors, each one elucidating one or more phases of the island's history. with these separate and diverse materials, supplemented by others of my own, i have constructed the present history. the transcendental change in the island's social and political conditions, inaugurated four years ago, made the writing of an english history of puerto rico necessary. the american officials who are called upon to guide the destinies and watch over the moral, material, and intellectual progress of the inhabitants of this new accession to the great republic will be able to do so all the better when they have a knowledge of the people's historical antecedents. i have endeavored to supply this need to the best of my ability, and herewith offer to the public the results of an arduous, though self-imposed task. r.a.v.m. san juan, puerto rico, _november , ._ contents part i historical chapter i.--the departure. ii.--the discovery. iii.--ponce and ceron. - iv.--first distribution of indians. "repartimientos" v.--the rebellion. vi.--the rebellion (_continued_.) vii.--number of aboriginal inhabitants and second distribution of indians. - viii.--laws and ordinances. - ix.--the return of ceron and diaz. ponce's first expedition to florida. - x.--dissensions. transfer of the capital. - xi.--calamities. ponce's second expedition to florida and death. - xii.--incursions of fugitive boriquÉn indians and caribs. - xiii.--depopulation of the island. preventive measures. introduction of negro slaves. - xiv.--attacks by french privateers. cause of the war with france. charles v. ruin of the island. - xv.--sedeso. changes in the system of government - xvi.--defenseless condition of the island. construction of fortifications and circumvallation of san juan. - xvii.--drake's attack on san juan. xviii.--occupation and evacuation of san juan by lord george cumberland. condition of the island at the end of the sixteenth century xix.--attack on san juan by the hollanders under bowdoin. xx.--decline of spain's power. buccaneers and filibusters. - xxi.--british attacks on puerto rico. siege of san juan by sir ralph abercrombie. - xxii.--british attacks on puerto rico (_continued_). invasions by colombian insurgents. - xxiii.--review of the social conditions in puerto rico and the political events in spain from to xxiv.--general condition of the island from to xxv.--political events in spain and their influence on affairs in puerto rico. - xxvi.--general conditions of the island, the dawn of freedom. - part ii the people and their institutions xxvii.--situation and general appearance of puerto rico xxviii.--origin, character, and customs of the primitive inhabitants of boriquÉn xxix.--the "jÍbaro" or puerto rican peasant xxx.--origin and character of the modern inhabitants of puerto rico xxxi.--negro slavery in puerto rico xxii.--increase of population xxiii.--agriculture in puerto rico xxxiv.--commerce and finances xxxv.--education in puerto rico xxxvi.--libraries and the press xxxvii.--the regular and secular clergy xxxviii.--the inquisition. - xxxix.--growth of cities xl.--auriferous streams and gold produced from to xli.--west indian hurricanes in puerto rico from to xlii.--the caribs bibliography index list of illustrations columbus statue, san juan ruins of capárra columbus monument, near aguadilla statue of ponce de leon, san juan inner harbor, san juan fort san geronimo, at santurce, near san juan only remaining gate of the city-wall, san juan a tienda, or small shop planter's house, ceiba tree, and royal palms san francisco church, san juan; the oldest church in the city plaza alphonso xii and intendencia building, san juan casa blanca and the sea wall, san juan part i historical chapter i the departure eight centuries of a gigantic struggle for supremacy between the crescent and the cross had devastated the fairest provinces of the spanish peninsula. boabdil, the last of the moorish kings, had delivered the keys of granada into the hands of queen isabel, the proud banner of the united kingdoms of castile and aragon floated triumphant from the walls of the alhambra, and providence, as if to recompense iberian knighthood for turning back the tide of moslem conquest, which threatened to overrun the whole of meridional europe, had laid a new world, with all its inestimable treasures and millions of benighted inhabitants, at the feet of the catholic princes. columbus had just returned from his first voyage. he had been scorned as an adventurer by the courtiers of lisbon, mocked as a visionary by the learned priests of the council in salamanca, who, with texts from the scriptures and quotations from the saints, had tried to convince him that the world was flat; he had been pointed at by the rabble in the streets as a madman who maintained that there was a land where the people walked with their heads down; and, after months of trial, he had been able to equip his three small craft and collect a crew of ninety men only by the aid of a royal schedule offering exemption from punishment for offenses against the laws to all who should join the expedition. at last he had sailed amid the murmurs of an incredulous crowd, who thought him and his companions doomed to certain destruction, and now he had returned[ ] bringing with him the living proofs of what he had declared to exist beyond that mysterious ocean, and showed to the astounded people samples of the unknown plants and animals, and of _the gold_ which he had said would be found there in fabulous quantities. it was the proudest moment of the daring navigator's life when, clad in his purple robe of office, bedecked with the insignia of his rank, he entered the throne-room of the palace in barcelona and received permission to be seated in the royal presence to relate his experiences. around the hall stood the grandees of spain and the magnates of the church, as obsequious and attentive to him now as they had been proud and disdainful when, a hungry wanderer, he had knocked at the gates of la rabida to beg bread for his son. it was the acme of the discoverer's destiny, the realization of his dream of glory, the well-earned recompense of years of persevering endeavor. the news of the discovery created universal enthusiasm. when it was announced that a second expedition was being organized there was no need of a royal schedule of remission of punishment to criminals to obtain crews. the admiral's residence was besieged all day long by the hidalgos[ ] who were anxious to share with him the expected glories and riches. the cessation of hostilities in granada had left thousands of knights, whose only patrimony was their sword, without occupation--men with iron muscles, inured to hardship and danger, eager for adventure and conquest. then there were the monks and priests, whose religious zeal was stimulated by the prospect of converting to christianity the benighted inhabitants of unknown realms; there were ruined traders, who hoped to mend their fortunes with the gold to be had, as they thought, for picking it up; finally, there were the protégés of royalty and of influential persons at court, who aspired to lucrative places in the new territories; in short, the admiral counted among the fifteen hundred companions of his second expedition individuals of the bluest blood in spain. as for the mariners, men-at-arms, mechanics, attendants, and servants, they were mostly greedy, vicious, ungovernable, and turbulent adventurers.[ ] the confiscated property of the jews, supplemented by a loan and some extra duties on articles of consumption, provided the funds for the expedition; a sufficient quantity of provisions was embarked; twenty granadian lancers with their spirited andalusian horses were accommodated; cuirasses, swords, pikes, crossbows, muskets, powder and balls were ominously abundant; seed-corn, rice, sugar-cane, vegetables, etc., were not forgotten; cattle, sheep, goats, swine, and fowls for stocking the new provinces, provided for future needs; and a breed of mastiff dogs, originally intended, perhaps, as watch-dogs only, but which became in a short time the dreaded destroyers of natives. finally, pope alexander vi, of infamous memory, drew a line across the map of the world, from pole to pole,[ ] and assigned all the undiscovered lands west of it to spain, and those east of it to portugal, thus arbitrarily dividing the globe between the two powers. at daybreak, september , , seventeen ships, three carácas of one hundred tons each, two naos, and twelve caravels, sailed from cadiz amid the ringing of bells and the enthusiastic godspeeds of thousands of spectators. the son of a genoese wool-carder stood there, the equal in rank of the noblest hidalgo in spain, admiral of the indian seas, viceroy of all the islands and continents to be discovered, and one-tenth of all the gold and treasures they contained would be his! alas for the evanescence of worldly greatness! all this glory was soon to be eclipsed. eight years after that day of triumph he again landed on the shore of spain a pale and emaciated prisoner in chains. it may easily be conceived that the voyage for these fifteen hundred men, most of whom were unaccustomed to the sea, was not a pleasure trip. fortunately they had fine weather and fair wind till october th, when they experienced their first tropical rain and thunder-storm, and the admiral ordered litanies. on november d he signaled to the fleet to shorten sail, and on the morning of the d fifteen hundred pairs of wondering eyes beheld the mountains of an island mysteriously hidden till then in the bosom of the atlantic ocean. among the spectators were bernal diaz de pisa, accountant of the fleet, the first conspirator in america; thirteen benedictine friars, with boil at their head, who, with morén pedro de margarit, the strategist, respectively represented the religious and military powers; there was roldán, another insubordinate, the first alcalde of the española; there were alonzo de ojeda and guevára, true knights-errant, who were soon to distinguish themselves: the first by the capture of the chief caonabó, the second by his romantic love-affair with higuemota, the daughter of the chiefess anacaóna. there was adrian mojíca, destined shortly to be hanged on the ramparts of fort concepción by order of the viceroy. there was juan de esquivél, the future conqueror of jamaica; sebastian olano, receiver of the royal share of the gold and other riches that no one doubted to find; father marchena, the admiral's first protector, friend, and counselor; the two knight commanders of military orders gallego and arroyo; the fleet's physician, chanca; the queen's three servants, navarro, peña-soto, and girau; the pilot, antonio de torres, who was to return to spain with the admiral's ship and first despatches. there was juan de la cosa, cartographer, who traced the first map of the antilles; there were the father and uncle of bartolomé de las casas, the apostle of the indies; diego de peñalosa, the first notary public; fermin jedo, the metallurgist, and villacorta, the mechanical engineer. luis de ariega, afterward famous as the defender of the fort at magdalena; diego velasquez, the future conqueror of cuba; vega, abarca, gil garcia, marguéz, maldonado, beltrán and many other doughty warriors, whose names had been the terror of the moors during the war in granada. finally, there were diego columbus, the admiral's brother; and among the men-at-arms, one, destined to play the principal rôle in the conquest of puerto rico. his name was juan ponce, a native of santervas or sanservas de campos in the kingdom of leon. he had served fifteen years in the war with the moors as page or shield-bearer to pedro nuñez de guzman, knight commander of the order of calatráva, and he had joined columbus like the rest--to seek his fortune in the western hemisphere. footnotes: [footnote : march , .] [footnote : literally, "_hijos d'algo_," sons of something or somebody.] [footnote : la fuente. hista. general de españa.] [footnote : along the th parallel of longitude w. of greenwich.] chapter ii the discovery the first island discovered on this voyage lies between ° and ° north latitude, near the middle of a chain of islands of different sizes, intermingled with rocks and reefs, which stretches from trinidad, near the coast of venezuela, in a north-by-westerly direction to puerto rico. they are divided in two groups, the windward islands forming the southern, the leeward islands the northern portion of the chain. the admiral shaped his course in the direction in which the islands, one after the other, loomed up, merely touching at some for the purpose of obtaining what information he could, which was meager enough. for an account of the expedition's experiences on that memorable voyage, we have the fleet physician chanca's circumstantial description addressed to the municipal corporation of seville, sent home by the same pilot who conveyed the admiral's first despatches to the king and queen. after describing the weather experienced up to the time the fleet arrived at the island "de hierro," he tells their worships that for nineteen or twenty days they had the best weather ever experienced on such a long voyage, excepting on the eve of san simon, when they had a storm which for four hours caused them great anxiety. at daybreak on sunday, november d, the pilot of the flagship announced land. "it was marvelous," says chanca, "to see and hear the people's manifestations of joy; and with reason, for they were very weary of the hardships they had undergone, and longed to be on land again." the first island they saw was high and mountainous. as the day advanced they saw another more level, and then others appeared, till they counted six, some of good size, and all covered with forest to the water's edge. sailing along the shore of the first discovered island for the distance of a league, and finding no suitable anchoring ground, they proceeded to the next island, which was four or five leagues distant, and here the admiral landed, bearing the royal standard, and took formal possession of this and all adjacent lands in the name of their highnesses. he named the first island dominica, because it was discovered on a sunday, and to the second island he gave the name of his ship, marie-galante. "in this island," says chanca, "it was wonderful to see the dense forest and the great variety of unknown trees, some in bloom, others with fruit, everything looking so green. we found a tree the leaves whereof resembled laurel leaves, but not so large, and they exhaled the finest odor of cloves.[ ] "there were fruits of many kinds, some of which the men imprudently tasted, with the result that their faces swelled, and that they suffered such violent pain in throat and mouth[ ] that they behaved like madmen, the application of cold substances giving them some relief." no signs of inhabitants were discovered, so they remained ashore two hours only and left next morning early (november th) in the direction of another island seven or eight leagues northward. they anchored off the southernmost coast of it, now known as basse terre, and admired a mountain in the distance, which seemed to reach into the sky (the volcano "la souffrière"), and the beautiful waterfall on its flank. the admiral sent a small caravel close inshore to look for a port, which was soon found. perceiving some huts, the captain landed, but the people who occupied them escaped into the forest as soon as they saw the strangers. on entering the huts they found two large parrots (guacamayos) entirely different from those seen until then by the spaniards, much cotton, spun and ready for spinning, and other articles, bringing away a little of each, "especially," says the doctor, "four or five bones of human arms and legs." from this the admiral concluded that he had found the islands inhabited by the redoubtable caribs, of whom he had heard on his first voyage, and who were said to eat human flesh. the general direction in which these islands were situated had been pointed out to him by the natives of guanahani and the española; hence, he had steered a southwesterly course on this his second voyage, "and," says the doctor, "by the goodness of god and the admiral's knowledge, we came as straight as if we had come by a known and continuous route." having found a convenient port and seen some groups of huts, the inhabitants of which fled as soon as they perceived the ships, the admiral gave orders that the next morning early parties of men should go on shore to reconnoiter. accordingly some captains, each with a small band of men, dispersed. most of them returned before noon with the tangible results of their expeditions; one party brought a boy of about fourteen years of age, who, from the signs he made, was understood to be a captive from some other island; another party brought a child that had been abandoned by the man who was leading it by the hand when he perceived the spaniards; others had taken some women; and one party was accompanied by women who had voluntarily joined them and who, on that account, were believed to be captives also. captain diego marquiz with six men, who had entered the thickest part of the forest, did not return that night, nor the three following days, notwithstanding the admiral had sent alonzo de ojeda with forty men to explore the jungle, blow trumpets, and do all that could be done to find them. when, on the morning of the fourth day, they had not returned, there was ground for concluding that they had been killed and eaten by the natives; but they made their appearance in the course of the day, emaciated and wearied, having suffered great hardships, till by chance they had struck the coast and followed it till they reached the ships. they brought ten persons, with them--women and boys. during the days thus lost the other captains collected more than twenty female captives, and three boys came running toward them, evidently escaping from their captors. few men were seen. it was afterward ascertained that ten canoes full had gone on one of their marauding expeditions. in their different expeditions on shore the spaniards found all the huts and villages abandoned, and in them "an infinite quantity" of human bones and skulls hanging on the walls as receptacles. from the natives taken on board the spaniards learned that the name of the first island they had seen was cayri or keiree; the one they were on they named sibuqueira, and they spoke of a third, not yet discovered, named aye-aye. the admiral gave to sibuqueira the name of guadaloupe. anchors were weighed at daybreak on november th. about noon of the next day the fleet reached an island which juan de la cosa laid down on his map with the name santa maria de monserrat. from the indian women on board it was understood that this island had been depopulated by the caribs and was then uninhabited. on the same day in the afternoon they made another island which, according to navarrete, was named by the admiral santa maria de la redonda (the round one), and seeing that there were many shallows in the neighborhood, and that it would be dangerous to continue the voyage during the night, the fleet came to anchor. on the following morning (the th) another island was discovered (la antigua); thence the fleet proceeded in a northwesterly direction to san martin, without landing at any place, because, as chanca observes, "the admiral was anxious to arrive at 'la española.'" after weighing anchor at san martin on the morning of thursday the th, the fleet experienced rough weather and was driven southward, anchoring the same day off the island aye-aye (santa cruz). fernandez, the admiral's son, in his description of his father's second voyage, says that a small craft (a sloop) with twenty-five men was sent ashore to take some of the people, that columbus might obtain information from them regarding his whereabouts. while they carried out this order a canoe with four men, two women, and a boy approached the ships, and, struck with astonishment at what they saw, they never moved from one spot till the sloop returned with four kidnaped women and three children. when the natives in the canoe saw the sloop bearing down upon them, and that they had no chance of escape, they showed fight. two spaniards were wounded--an arrow shot by one of the amazons went clear through a buckler--then the canoe was overturned, and finding a footing in a shallow place, they continued the fight till they were all taken, one of them being mortally wounded by the thrust of a lance. to regain the latitude in which he was sailing when the storm began to drive his ships southwestward to aye-aye, the admiral, after a delay of only a few hours, steered north, until, toward nightfall, he reached a numerous group of small islands. most of them appeared bare and devoid of vegetation. the next morning (november th) a small caravel was sent among the group to explore, the other ships standing out to sea for fear of shallows, but nothing of interest was found except a few indian fishermen. all the islands were uninhabited, and they were baptized "the eleven thousand virgins." the largest one, according to navarrete, was named santa ursula--"la virgin gorda" (the fat virgin) according to angleria. during the night the ships lay to at sea. on the th the voyage was continued till the afternoon of the th, when another island was sighted; the fleet sailed along its southern shore for a whole day. that night two women and a boy of those who had voluntarily joined the expedition in sobuqueira, swam ashore, having recognized their home. on the th the fleet anchored in a bay on the western coast, where columbus landed and took possession in the name of his royal patrons with the same formalities as observed in marie-galante, and named the island san juan bautista. near the landing-place was found a deserted village consisting of a dozen huts of the usual size surrounding a larger one of superior construction; from the village a road or walk, hedged in by trees and plants, led to the sea, "which," says muñoz,[ ] "gave it the aspect of some cacique's place of seaside recreation." after remaining two days in port (november th and st), and without a single native having shown himself, the fleet lifted anchor on the morning of the d, and proceeding on its northwesterly course, reached the bay of samaná, in española, before night, whence, sailing along the coast, the admiral reached the longed-for port of navidad on the th, only to find that the first act of the bloody drama that was to be enacted in this bright new world had already been performed. here we leave columbus and his companions to play the important rôles in the conquest of america assigned to each of them. the fortunes of the yeoman of humble birth, the former lance-bearer or stirrup-page of the knight commander of calatráva, already referred to, were destined to become intimately connected with those of the island whose history we will now trace. footnotes: [footnote : the "caryophyllus pimienta," coll y toste.] [footnote : navarrete supposes this to have been the fruit of the manzanilla "hippomane mancinella," which produces identical effects.] [footnote : historia del nuevo mundo.] chapter iii ponce and ceron - friar iñigo abbad, in his history of the island san juan bautista de puerto rico, gives the story of the discovery in a very short chapter, and terminates it with the words: "columbus sailed for santo domingo november , , and thought no more of the island, which remained forgotten till juan ponce returned to explore it in ." this is not correct. the island was not forgotten, for don josé julian de acosta, in his annotations to the benedictine monk's history (pp. and ), quotes a royal decree of march , , appointing vicente yañez pinzón captain and "corregidor" of the island san juan bautista and governor of the fort that he was to construct therein. pinzón transferred his rights and titles in the appointment to martin garcia de salazar, in company with whom he stocked the island with cattle; but it seems that boriquén did not offer sufficient scope for the gallant pilot's ambition, for we find him between the years and engaged in seeking new conquests on the continent. as far as columbus himself is concerned, the island was certainly forgotten amid the troubles that beset him on all sides almost from the day of his second landing in "la española." from to a series of insurrections broke out, headed successively by diaz, margarit, aguado, roldán, and others, supported by the convict rabble that, on the admiral's own proposals to the authorities in spain, had been liberated from galleys and prisons on condition that they should join him on his third expedition. these men, turbulent, insubordinate, and greedy, found hunger, hardships, and sickness where they had expected to find plenty, comfort, and wealth. the admiral, who had indirectly promised them these things, to mitigate the universal and bitter disappointment, had recourse to the unwarrantable expedients of enslaving the natives, sending them to spain to be sold, of levying tribute on those who remained, and, worst of all, dooming them to a sure and rapid extermination by forced labor. the natives, driven to despair, resisted, and in the encounters between the naked islanders and the mailed invaders juan ponce distinguished himself so that nicolos de ovando, the governor, made him the lieutenant of juan esquivél, who was then engaged in "pacifying" the province of higüey.[ ] after esquivél's departure on the conquest of jamaica, ponce was advanced to the rank of captain, and it was while he was in the higüey province that he learned from the boriquén natives, who occasionally visited the coast, that there was gold in the rivers of their as yet unexplored island. this was enough to awaken his ambition to explore it, and having asked permission of ovando, it was granted. ponce equipped a caravel at once, and soon after left the port of salvaleon with a few followers and some indians to serve as guides and interpreters ( ). they probably landed at or near the same place at which their captain had landed fifteen years before with the admiral, that is to say, in the neighborhood of la aguáda, where, according to las casas, the ships going and coming to and from spain had called regularly to take in fresh water ever since the year . the strangers were hospitably received. it appears that the mother of the local cacique, who was also the chief cacique of that part of the island, was a woman of acute judgment. she had, no doubt, heard from fugitives from la española of the doings of the spaniards there, and of their irresistible might in battle, and had prudently counseled her son to receive the intruders with kindness and hospitality. accordingly ponce and his men were welcomed and feasted. they were supplied with provisions; areitos (dances) were held in their honor; batos (games of ball) were played to amuse them, and the practise, common among many of the aboriginal tribes in different parts of the world, of exchanging names with a visitor as a mark of brotherly affection, was also resorted to to cement the new bonds of friendship, so that guaybána became ponce for the time being, and ponce guaybána. the sagacious mother of the chief received the name of doña inéz, other names were bestowed on other members of the family, and to crown all, ponce received the chief's sister in marriage. under these favorable auspices ponce made known his desire to see the places where the chiefs obtained the yellow metal for the disks which, as a distinctive of their rank, they wore as medals round their neck. guaybána responded with alacrity to his spanish brother's wish, and accompanied him on what modern gold-seekers would call "a prospecting tour" to the interior. the indian took pride in showing him the rivers manatuabón, manatí, sibucó, and others, and in having their sands washed in the presence of his white friends, little dreaming that by so doing he was sealing the doom of himself and people. ponce was satisfied with the result of his exploration, and returned to la española in the first months of , taking with him the samples of gold collected, and leaving behind some of his companions, who probably then commenced to lay the foundations of capárra. it is believed that guaybána accompanied him to see and admire the wonders of the spanish settlement. the gold was smelted and assayed, and found to be maravedis per peso fine, which was not as fine as the gold obtained in la española, but sufficiently so for the king of spain's purposes, for he wrote to ponce in november, : "i have seen your letter of august th. be very diligent in searching for gold mines in the island of san juan; take out as much as possible, and after smelting it in la española, send it immediately." on august th of the same year don fernando had already written to the captain thanking him for his diligence in the settlement of the island and appointing him governor _ad interim_. ponce returned to san juan in july or the beginning of august, after the arrival in la española of diego, the son of christopher columbus, with his family and a new group of followers, as viceroy and admiral. the admiral, aware of the part which ponce had taken in the insurrection of roldán against his father's authority, bore him no good-will, notwithstanding the king's favorable disposition toward the captain, as manifested in the instructions which he received from ferdinand before his departure from spain (may , ), in which his highness referred to juan ponce de leon as being by his special grace and good-will authorized to settle the island of san juan bautista, requesting the admiral to make no innovations in the arrangement, and charging him to assist and favor the captain in his undertaking. after don diego's arrival in la española he received a letter from the king, dated september , , saying, "ovando wrote that juan ponce had not gone to settle the island of san juan for want of stores; now that they have been provided in abundance, let it be done." but the admiral purposely ignored these instructions. he deposed ponce and appointed juan ceron as governor in his place, with a certain miguel diaz as high constable, and diego morales for the office next in importance. his reason for thus proceeding in open defiance of the king's orders, independent of his resentment against ponce, was the maintenance of the prerogatives of his rank as conceded to his father, of which the appointment of governors and mayors over any or all the islands discovered by him was one. ceron and his two companions, with more than two hundred spaniards, sailed for san juan in , and were well received by guaybána and his indians, among whom they took up their residence and at once commenced the search for gold. in the meantime ponce, in his capacity as governor _ad interim_, continued his correspondence with the king, who, march , , signed his appointment as permanent governor.[ ] this conferred upon him the power to sentence in civil and criminal affairs, to appoint and remove alcaldes, constables, etc., subject to appeal to the government of la española. armed with his new authority, and feeling himself strong in the protection of his king, ponce now proceeded to arrest ceron and his two fellow officials, and sent them to spain in a vessel that happened to call at the island, confiscating all their property. diego columbus, on hearing of ponce's highhanded proceedings, retaliated by the confiscation of all the captain's property in la española. these events did not reach the king's ears till september, . he comprehended at once that his protégé had acted precipitately, and gave orders that the three prisoners should be set at liberty immediately after their arrival in spain and proceed to the court to appear before the council of indies. he next ordered ponce (november , ) to place the confiscated properties and indians of ceron and his companions at the disposal of the persons they should designate for that purpose. finally, after due investigation and recognition of the violence of ponce's proceedings, the king wrote to him june , : "because it has been resolved in the council of indies that the government of this and the other islands discovered by his father belongs to the admiral and his successors, it is necessary to return to ceron, diaz, and morales their staffs of office. you will come to where i am, leaving your property in good security, and we will see wherein we can employ you in recompense of your good services." ceron and his companions received instructions not to molest ponce nor any of his officers, nor demand an account of their acts, and they were recommended to endeavor to gain their good-will and assistance. the reinstated officers returned to san juan in the latter part of . ponce, in obedience to the king's commands, quietly delivered the staff of office to ceron, and withdrew to his residence in capárra. he had already collected considerable wealth, which was soon to serve him in other adventurous enterprises. footnotes: [footnote : the slaughter of rebellious indians was called "pacification" by the spaniards.] [footnote : the document is signed by ferdinand and his daughter, doña juana, as heir to her mother, for the part corresponding to each in the sovereignty over the island san juan bautista.] chapter iv first distribution of indians. "repartimientos" soon after ponce's return from la española guaybána sickened and died. up to this time the harmony established by the prudent cacique between his tribesmen and the spaniards on their first arrival had apparently not been disturbed. there is no record of any dissension between them during ponce's absence. the cacique was succeeded by his brother, who according to custom assumed the name of the deceased chief, together with his authority. the site for his first settlement, chosen by ponce, was a low hill in the center of a small plain surrounded by hills, at the distance of a league from the sea, the whole space between being a swamp, "which," says oviedo, "made the transport of supplies very difficult." here the captain commenced the construction of a fortified house and chapel, or hermitage, and called the place capárra.[ ] [illustration: ruins of capárra, the first capital.] among the recently arrived spaniards there was a young man of aristocratic birth named christopher de soto mayor, who possessed powerful friends at court. he had been secretary to king philip i, and according to abbad, was intended by ferdinand as future governor of san juan; but señor acosta, the friar's commentator, remarks with reason, that it is not likely that the king, who showed so much tact and foresight in all his acts, should place a young man without experience over an old soldier like ponce, for whom he had a special regard. the young hidalgo seemed to aspire to nothing higher than a life of adventure, for he agreed to go as ponce's lieutenant and form a settlement on the south coast of the island near the bay of guánica. "in this settlement," says oviedo, "there were so many mosquitoes that they alone were enough to depopulate it, and the people passed to aguáda, which is said to be to the west-nor'-west, on the borders of the river culebrinas, in the district now known as aguáda and aguadilla; to this new settlement they gave the name sotomayor, and while they were there the indians rose in rebellion one friday in the beginning of the year ." * * * * * the second guaybána[ ] was far from sharing his predecessor's good-will toward the spaniards or his prudence in dealing with them; nor was the conduct of the newcomers toward the natives calculated to cement the bonds of friendship. fancying themselves secure in the friendly disposition of the natives, prompted by that spirit of reckless daring and adventure that distinguished most of the followers of columbus, anxious to be first to find a gold-bearing stream or get possession of some rich piece of land, they did not confine themselves to the two settlements formed, but spread through the interior, where they began to lay out farms and to work the auriferous river sands. in the beginning the natives showed themselves willing enough to assist in these labors, but when the brutal treatment to which the people of la española had been subjected was meted out to them also, and the greed of gold caused their self-constituted masters to exact from them labors beyond their strength, the indians murmured, then protested, at last they resisted, and at each step the taskmasters became more exacting, more relentless. at the time of the arrival of the spaniards the natives of boriquén seem to have led an arcadian kind of existence; their bows and arrows were used only when some party of caribs came to carry off their young men and maidens. among themselves they lived at peace, and passed their days in lazily swinging in their hammocks and playing ball or dancing their "areytos." with little labor the cultivation of their patches of yucca[ ] required was performed by the women, and beyond the construction of their canoes and the carving of some battle club, they knew no industry, except, perhaps, the chipping of some stone into the rude likeness of a man, or of one of the few animals they knew. these creatures were suddenly called upon to labor from morning to night, to dig and delve, and to stand up to their hips in water washing the river sands. they were forced to change their habits and their food, and from free and, in their own way, happy masters of the soil they became the slaves of a handful of ruthless men from beyond the sea. when ponce's order to distribute them among his men confirmed the hopelessness of their slavery, they looked upon the small number of their destroyers and began to ask themselves if there were no means of getting rid of them. * * * * * the system of "repartimientos" (distribution), sometimes called "encomiendas" (patronage), was first introduced in la española by columbus and sanctioned later by royal authority. father las casas insinuates that ponce acted arbitrarily in introducing it in boriquén, but there were precedents for it. the first tribute imposed by columbus on the natives of la española was in gold and in cotton[ ]( ). recognizing that the indians could not comply with this demand, the admiral modified it, but still they could not satisfy him, and many, to escape the odious imposition, fled to the woods and mountains or wandered about from place to place. the admiral, in virtue of the powers granted to him, had divided the land among his followers according to rank, or merit, or caprice, and in the year substituted the forced labor of the indians for the tribute, each cacique being obliged to furnish a stipulated number of men to cultivate the lands granted. bobadilla, the admiral's successor, made this obligation to work on the land extend to the mines, and in the royal instructions given to ovando, who succeeded bobadilla, these abuses were confirmed, and he was expressly charged to see to it "that the indians were employed in collecting gold and other metals for the castilians, in cultivating their lands, in constructing their houses, and in obeying their commands." the pretext for these abuses was, that by thus bringing the natives into immediate contact with their masters they would be easier converted to christianity. it is true that the royal ordinances stipulated that the indians should be well treated, and be paid for their work like free laborers, but the fact that they were _forced_ to work and severely punished when they refused, constituted them slaves in reality. the royal recommendations to treat them well, to pay them for their work, and to teach them the christian doctrines, were ignored by the masters, whose only object was to grow rich. the indians were tasked far beyond their strength. they were ill-fed, often not fed at all, brutally ill-treated, horribly punished for trying to escape from the hellish yoke, ruthlessly slaughtered at the slightest show of resistance, so that thousands of them perished miserably. this had been the fate of the natives of la española, and there can be no doubt that the boriqueños had learned from fugitives of that island what was in store for them when ponce ordered their distribution among the settlers. the following list of indians distributed in obedience to orders from the metropolis is taken from the work by don salvador brau.[ ] it was these first distributions, made in -' , which led to the rebellion of the indians and the distributions that followed: indians to the general treasurer, pasamonte, a man described by acosta as malevolent, insolent, deceitful, and sordid...... to juan ponce de leon...................................... to christopher soto mayor[ ]............................... to vicente yañez pinzón, on condition that he should settle in the island.............................................. to lope de conchillos, king ferdinand's chief secretary, as bad a character as pasamonte............................ to pedro moreno and jerome of brussels, the delegate and clerk of conchillos in boriquén, each................... to the bachelor-at-law villalobos........................... to francisco alvarado....................................... a total of , defenseless indians delivered into the ruthless hands of men steeped in greed, ambition, and selfishness. footnotes: [footnote : the scanty remains of the first settlement were to be seen till lately in the pueblo viejo ward, municipal district of bayamón, along the road which loads from cataño to gurabó.] [footnote : he may have been the tenth or the twentieth if what the chroniclers tell us about the adoption of the defunct caciquess' names by their successors be true.] [footnote : the manioc of which the "casaba" bread is made.] [footnote : a "cascabel" (a measure the size of one of the round bells used in spain to hang round the neck of the leader in a troop of mules) full of gold and twenty-five pounds (an arroba) of cotton every three months for every indian above sixteen years of age.] [footnote : puerto rico y su historia, p. .] [footnote : among the indians given to soto mayor was the sister of the cacique guaybána second. she became his concubine, and in return for the preference shown her she gave the young nobleman timely warning of the impending rebellion.] chapter v the rebellion the sullen but passive resistance of the indians was little noticed by the spaniards, who despised them too much to show any apprehension; but the number of fugitives to the mountains and across the sea increased day by day, and it soon became known that nocturnal "areytos" were held, in which the means of shaking off the odious yoke were discussed. soto mayor was warned by his paramour, and it is probable that some of the other settlers received advice through the same channels; still, they neglected even the ordinary precautions. at last, a soldier named juan gonzalez, who had learned the native language in la española, took upon himself to discover what truth there was in these persistent reports, and, naked and painted so as to appear like one of the indians, he assisted at one of the nocturnal meetings, where he learned that a serious insurrection was indeed brewing; he informed soto mayor of what he had heard and seen, and the latter now became convinced of the seriousness of the danger. before gonzalez learned what was going on, guaybána had summoned the neighboring caciques to a midnight "areyto" and laid his plan before them, which consisted in each of them, on a preconcerted day, falling upon the spaniards living in or near their respective villages; the attack, on the same day, on soto mayor's settlement, he reserved for himself and guariónez, the cacique of utuáo. but some of the caciques doubted the feasibility of the plan. had not the fugitives from quisqueiá[ ] told of the terrible effects of the shining blades they wore by their sides when wielded in battle by the brawny arms of the dreaded strangers? did not their own arrows glance harmlessly from the glittering scales with which they covered their bodies? was guaybána quite sure that the white-faced invader could be killed at all? the majority thought that before undertaking their extermination they ought to be sure that they had to do with a mortal enemy. oviedo and herrera both relate how they proceeded to discover this. urayoán, the cacique of yagüeca, was charged with the experiment. chance soon favored him. a young man named salcedo passed through his village to join some friends. he was hospitably received, well fed, and a number of men[ ] were told to accompany him and carry his luggage. he arrived at the guaorába, a river on the west side of the island, which flows into the bay of san german. they offered to carry him across. the youth accepted, was taken up between two of the strongest indians, who, arriving in the middle of the river, dumped him under water--then they fell on him and held him down till he struggled no more. dragging him ashore, they now begged his pardon, saying that they had stumbled, and called upon him to rise and continue the voyage; but the young man did not move, he was dead, and they had the proof that the supposed demi-gods were mortals after all. the news spread like wildfire, and from that day the indians were in open rebellion and began to take the offensive, shooting their arrows and otherwise molesting every spaniard they happened to meet alone or off his guard. the following episode related by oviedo illustrates the mental disposition of the natives of boriquén at this period. aymamón, the cacique whose village was on the river culebrinas, near the settlement of soto mayor, had surprised a lad of sixteen years wandering alone in the forest. the cacique carried him off, tied him to a post in his hut and proposed to his men a game of ball, the winner to have the privilege of convincing himself and the others of the mortality of their enemies by killing the lad in any way he pleased. fortunately for the intended victim, one of the indians knew the youth's father, one pedro juarez, in the neighboring settlement, and ran to tell him of the danger that menaced his son. captain diego salazar, who in soto mayor's absence was in command of the settlement, on hearing of the case, took his sword and buckler and guided by the friendly indian, reached the village while the game for the boy's life was going on. he first cut the lad's bonds, and with the words "do as you see me do!" rushed upon the crowd of about indians and laid about him right and left with such effect that they had no chance even of defending themselves. many were killed and wounded. among the latter was aymamón himself, and salazar returned in triumph with the boy. but now comes the curious part of the story, which shows the character of the boriquén indian in a more favorable light. aymamón, feeling himself mortally wounded, sent a messenger to salazar, begging him to come to his caney or hut to make friends with him before he died. none but a man of salazar's intrepid character would have thought of accepting such an invitation; but _he_ did, and, saying to young juarez, who begged his deliverer not to go: "they shall not think that i'm afraid of them," he went, shook hands with the dying chief, changed names with him, and returned unharmed amid the applauding shouts of "salazar! salazar!" from the multitude, among whom his toledo blade had made such havoc. it was evident from this that they held courage, such as the captain had displayed, in high esteem. to the other spaniards they used to say: "we are not afraid of _you_, for you are not salazar." * * * * * it was in the beginning of june, . the day fixed by guaybána for the general rising had arrived. soto mayor was still in his grange in the territory under the cacique's authority, but having received the confirmation of the approaching danger from gonzalez, he now resolved at once to place himself at the head of his men in the aguáda settlement. the distance was great, and he had to traverse a country thickly peopled by indians whom he now knew to be in open rebellion; but he was a spanish hidalgo and did not hesitate a moment. the morning after receiving the report of gonzalez he left his grange with that individual and four other companions. guaybána, hearing of soto mayor's departure, started in pursuit. gonzalez, who had lagged behind, was first overtaken, disarmed, wounded with his own sword, and left for dead. near the river yauco the indians came upon soto mayor and his companions, and though there were no witnesses to chronicle what happened, we may safely assert that they sold their lives dear, till the last of them fell under the clubs of the infuriated savages. that same night guárionex with , indians stealthily surrounded the settlement and set fire to it, slaughtering all who, in trying to escape, fell into their hands.[ ] in the interior nearly a hundred spaniards were killed during the night. gonzalez, though left for dead, had been able to make his way through the forest to the royal grange, situated where now toa-caja is. he was in a pitiful plight, and fell in a swoon when he crossed the threshold of the house. being restored to consciousness, he related to the spaniards present what was going on near the culebrinas, and they sent a messenger to capárra at once. immediately on receipt of the news from the grange, ponce sent captain miguel del toro with men to the assistance of soto mayor, but he found the settlement in ashes and only the bodies of those who had perished. footnotes: [footnote : la española.] [footnote : the chroniclers say fifteen or twenty, which seems an exaggerated number.] [footnote : salazar was able in the dark and the confusion of the attack on the settlement to rally a handful of followers, with whom he cut his way through the indians and through the jungle to capárra.] chapter vi the rebellion _(continued)_ salazar's arrival at capárra with a handful of wounded and exhausted men revealed to ponce the danger of his situation. ponce knew that it was necessary to strike a bold blow, and although, including the maimed and wounded, he had but men at his disposal, he prepared at once to take the offensive. sending a messenger to la española with the news of the insurrection and a demand for reenforcements, which, seeing his strained relations with the admiral, there was small chance of his obtaining, he proceeded to divide his force in four companies of men to each, and gave command to miguel del toro, the future founder of san german, to louis de añasco, who later gave his name to a province, to louis almanza and to diego salazar, whose company was made up exclusively of the maimed and wounded, and therefore called in good-humored jest the company of cripples. having learned from his scouts that guaybána was camped with , to , men near the mouth of the river coayúco in the territory between the yauco and jacágua rivers, somewhere in the neighborhood of the city which now bears the conqueror's name, he marched with great precaution through forest and jungle till he reached the river. he crossed it during the night and fell upon the indians with such impetus that they believed their slain enemies to have come to life. they fled in confusion, leaving dead upon the field. the force under ponce's command was too small to follow up his victory by the persecution of the terror-stricken natives; nor would the exhausted condition of the men have permitted it, so he wisely determined to return to capárra, cure his wounded soldiers, and await the result of his message to la española. oviedo and navarro, whose narratives of these events are repeated by abbad, state that the boriquén indians, despairing of being able to vanquish the spaniards, called the caribs of the neighboring islands to their aid; that the latter arrived in groups to make common cause with them, and that some time after the battle of coayúco, between caribs and boriqueños, , men had congregated in the aymacó district. but mr. brau[ ] calls attention to the improbability of such a gathering. "guaybána," he says, "had been able, after long preparation, to bring together between , and , warriors--of these had been slain, and an equal number, perhaps, wounded and made prisoners, so that, to make up the number of , , at least as many caribs as the entire warrior force of boriquén must have come to the island in the short space of time elapsed since the first battle. the islands inhabited by the caribs--santa cruz, san eustaquio, san cristobal, and dominica--were too distant to furnish so large a contingent in so short a time, and the author we are quoting justly remarks that, admitting that such a feat was possible, they must have had at their disposition a fleet of at least canoes, each capable of holding men, a number which it is not likely they ever possessed." there is another reason for discrediting the assertions of the old chroniclers in this respect. the idea of calling upon their enemies, the caribs, to make common cause with them against a foe from whom the caribs themselves had, as yet, suffered comparatively little, and the ready acceptance by these savages of the proposal, presupposes an amount of foresight and calculation, of diplomatic tact, so to speak, in both the boriqueños and caribs with which it is difficult to credit them. the probable explanation of the alleged arrival of caribs is that some of the fugitive indians who had found a refuge in the small islands close to boriquén may have been informed of the preparations for a revolt and of the result of the experiment with salcedo, and they naturally came to take part in the struggle. on hearing of the ominous gathering ponce sent louis añasco and miguel del toro with men to reconnoiter and watch the indians closely, while he himself followed with the rest of his small force to be present where and when it might be necessary. their approach was soon discovered, and, as if eager for battle, one cacique named mabodomáca, who had a band of picked men, sent the governor an insolent challenge to come on. salazar with his company of cripples was chosen to silence him. after reconnoitering the cacique's position, he gave his men a much-needed rest till after midnight, and then dashed among them with his accustomed recklessness. the indians, though taken by surprise, defended themselves bravely for three hours, "but," says father abbad, "god fought on the side of the spaniards," and the result was that dead natives were left on the field, with many wounded and prisoners. the spaniards had not lost a man, though the majority had received fresh wounds. ponce, with his reserve force, arrived soon after the battle and found salazar and his men resting. from them he learned that the main body of the indians, to the number of several thousand, was in the territory of yacüeca (now añasco) and seemingly determined upon the extermination of the spaniards. the captain resolved to go and meet the enemy without regard to numbers. with salazar's men and the under añasco and toro he marched upon them at once. choosing an advantageous position, he gave orders to form an entrenched camp with fascines as well, and as quickly as the men could, while he kept the indians at bay with his arquebusiers and crossbowmen each time they made a rush, which they did repeatedly. in this manner they succeeded in entrenching themselves fairly well. the crossbowmen and arquebusiers went out from time to time, delivered a volley among the close masses of indians and then withdrew. these tactics were continued during the night and all the next day, much to the disgust of the soldiers, who, wounded, weary, and hungry, without hope of rescue, heard the yells of the savages challenging them to come out of their camp. they preferred to rush among them, as they had so often done before. but ponce would not permit it. among the arquebusiers the best shot was a certain juan de leon. this man had received instructions from ponce to watch closely the movements of guaybána, who was easily distinguishable from the rest by the "guanin," or disk of gold which he wore round the neck. on the second day, the cacique was seen to come and go actively from group to group, evidently animating his men for a general assault. while thus engaged he came within the range of leon's arquebus, and a moment after he fell pierced by a well-directed ball. the effect was what ponce had doubtless expected. the indians yelled with dismay and ran far beyond the range of the deadly weapons; nor did they attempt to return or molest the spaniards when ponce led them that night from the camp and through the forest back to capárra. this was the beginning of the end. after the death of guaybána no other cacique ever attempted an organized resistance, and the partial uprisings that took place for years afterward were easily suppressed. the report of the arquebus that laid guaybána low was the death-knell of the whole boriquén race. the name of the island remained as a reminiscence only, and the island itself became definitely a dependency of the spanish crown under the new name of san juan bautista de puerto rico. footnotes: [footnote : puerto rico y su historia, p. .] chapter vii number of aboriginal inhabitants and second distribution of indians - friar bartolomé de las casas, in his relation of the indies, says with reference to this island, that when the spaniards under the orders of juan ceron landed here in , it was as full of people as a beehive is full of bees and as beautiful and fertile as an orchard. this simile and some probably incorrect data from the geography of bayaeete led friar iñigo abbad to estimate the number of aboriginal inhabitants at the time of the discovery at , , a number for which there is no warrant in any of the writings of the spanish chroniclers, and which acosto, brau, and stahl, the best authorities on matters of puerto rican history, reject as extremely exaggerated. mr. brau gives some good reasons for reducing the number to about , , though it seems to us that since little or nothing was known of the island, except that part of it in which the events related in the preceding chapters took place, any reasoning regarding the population of the whole island, based upon a knowledge of a part of it, is liable to error. ponce's conquest was limited to the northern and western littoral; the interior with the southern and eastern districts were not settled by the spaniards till some years after the death of guaybána; and it seems likely that there were caciques in those parts who, by reason of the distance or other impediments, took no part in the uprising against the spaniards. for the rest, mr. brau's reasonings in support of his reduction to , of the number of aborigines, are undoubtedly correct. they are: first. the improbability of a small island like this, _in an uncultivated state_, producing sufficient food for such large numbers. second. the fact that at the first battle (that of jacáguas), in which he supposes the whole available warrior force of the island to have taken part, there were , to , men only, which force would have been much stronger had the population been anything near the number given by abbad; and, finally, the number of indians distributed after the cessation of organized resistance was only , , as certified by sancho velasquez, the judge appointed in to rectify the distributions made by ceron and moscoso, and by captain melarejo in his memorial drawn up in by order of the captain-general, which number would necessarily have been much larger if the total aboriginal population had been but , , instead of , . * * * * * the immediate consequence to the natives of the panic and partial submission that followed the death of their leader was another and more extensive distribution. the first distributions of indians had been but the extension to san juan of the system as practised in la española, which consisted in granting to the crown officers in recompense for services or as an inducement to settle in the island, a certain number of natives.[ ] in this way , boriqueños had been disposed of in to persons. the ill usage to which they saw them subjected drove the others to rebellion, and now, væ victis, the king, on hearing of the rebellion, wrote to ceron and diaz (july, ): "to 'pacify' the indians you must go well armed and terrorize them. take their canoes from them, and if they refuse to be reduced with reason, make war upon them by fire and sword, taking care not to kill more than necessary, and send or of them to 'la española' to serve us as slaves, etc." to ponce he wrote on october th: "i give you credit for your labors in the 'pacification' and for having marked with an f on their foreheads all the indians taken in war, making slaves of them and selling them to the highest bidders, separating the fifth part of the product for us." this time not only the companions of ponce came in for their share of the living spoils of war, but the followers of ceron claimed and obtained theirs also. the following is the list of indians distributed after the battle of yacüeca (if battle it may be called) as given by mr. brau, who obtained the details from the unpublished documents of juan bautista muñoz: indians to the estates (haciendas) of their royal highnesses baltasar de castro, the factor miguel diaz, the chief constable juan ceron, the mayor diego morales, bachelor-at-law amador de lares louis soto mayor miguel diaz, daux-factor the (municipal) council the hospitals bishop manso sebastian de la gama gil de malpartida juan bono (a merchant) juan velasquez antonio rivadeneyra gracian cansino louis aqueyo the apothecary francisco cereceda other individuals each , _____ , distributed in , _____ total , these numbers included women and children old enough to perform some kind of labor. they were employed in the mines, or in the rivers rather (for it was alluvium gold only that the island offered to the greed of the so-called conquerors); they were employed on the plantations as beasts of burden, and in every conceivable capacity under taskmasters who, in spite of ferdinand's revocation of the order to reduce them to slavery (september, ), had acted on his first dispositions and believed themselves to have the royal warrant to work them to death. the king's more lenient dispositions came too late. they were powerless to check the abuses that were being committed under his own previous ordinances. the indians disappeared with fearful rapidity. licentiate sancho velasquez, who had made the second distribution, wrote to the king april , : " ... excepting your highnesses' indians and those of the crown officers, there are not , left." on august th of the same year the officers themselves wrote: " ... the last smeltings have produced little gold. many indians have died from disease caused by the hurricane as well as from want of food...." to readjust the proportion of indians according to the position or other claims of each individual, new distributions were resorted to. in these, some favored individuals obtained all they wanted at the expense of others, and as the number of distributable indians grew less and less, reclamations, discontent, strife and rebellion broke out among the oppressors, who thus wreaked upon each other's heads the criminal treatment of the natives of which they were all alike guilty. such had been the course of events in la española. the same causes had the same effects here. herrera relates that when miguel de pasamente, the royal treasurer, arrived in the former island, in , it contained , aboriginal inhabitants. six years later, when a new distribution had become necessary, there were but , left--the others had been freed by the hand of death or were leading a wandering life in the mountains and forests of their island. in this island the process was not so rapid, but none the less effective. footnotes: [footnote : the king's favorites in the metropolis, anxious to enrich themselves by these means, obtained grants of indians and sent their stewards to administer them. thus, in la española, conehillos, the secretary, had , indians; bishop fonseca, ; hernando de la vega, , and many others, "the indians thus disposed of were, as a rule, the worst treated," says las casas.] chapter viii laws and ordinances - we have seen how diego columbus suspended ponce in his functions as governor _ad interim_, and how the captain after obtaining from the king his appointment as permanent governor sent the admiral's nominees prisoners to the metropolis. the king, though inclined to favor the captain, submitted the matter to his indian council, which decided that the nomination of governors and mayors over the islands discovered by christopher columbus corresponded to his son. as a consequence, ceron and diaz were reinstated in their respective offices, and they were on their way back to san juan a few months after ponce's final success over the rebellious indians. before their departure from spain they received the following instructions, characteristic of the times and of the royal personage who imparted them: " . you will take over your offices very peaceably, endeavoring to gain the good-will of ponce and his friends, that they may become _your_ friends also, to the island's advantage. " . this done, you will attend to the 'pacification' of the indians. " . let many of them be employed in the mines and be well treated. " . let many indians be brought from the other islands and be well treated. let the officers of justice be favored (in the distributions of indians). " . be very careful that no meat is eaten in lent or other fast days, as has been done till now in la española. " . let those who have indians occupy a third of their number in the mines. " . let great care be exercised in the salt-pits, and one real be paid for each celemin[ ] extracted, as is done in la española. " . send me a list of the number and class of indians distributed, if ponce has not done so already, and of those who have distinguished themselves in this rebellion. " . you are aware that ever since the sacraments have been administered in these islands, storms and earthquakes have ceased. let a chapel be built at once with the advocation of saint john the baptist, and a monastery, though it be a small one, for franciscan friars, whose doctrine is very salutary. " . have great care in the mines and continually advise pasamonte (the treasurer) or his agent of what happens or what may be necessary. " . take the youngest indians and teach them the christian doctrine; they can afterward teach the others with better results. " . let there be no swearing or blasphemy; impose heavy penalties thereon. " . do not let the indians be overloaded, but be well treated rather. " . try to keep the caribs from coming to the island, and report what measures it will be advisable to adopt against them. to make the natives do what is wanted, it will be convenient to take from them, with cunning (con maña), all the canoes they possess. " . you will obey the contents of these instructions until further orders. tordesillas, th of july, . f., king." it is clear from the above instructions that, in the king's mind, there was no inconsistency in making the indians work in the mines and their good treatment. there can be no doubt that both he and doña juana, his daughter, who, as heir to her mother, exercised the royal authority with him, sincerely desired the well-being of the natives as far as compatible with the exigencies of the treasury. for the increase of the white population and the development of commerce and agriculture, liberal measures, according to the ideas of the age, were dictated as early as february, , when the same commercial and political franchises were granted to san juan as to la española. on july th the price of salt, the sale of which was a royal monopoly, was reduced by one-half, and in october of the same year the following rights and privileges were decreed by the king and published by the crown officers in seville: " st. any one may take provisions and merchandise to san juan, which is now being settled, and reside there with the same freedom as in la española. " d. any spaniard may freely go to the indies--that is, to la española and to san juan--by simply presenting himself to the officials in seville, _without giving any further information_ (about himself). " d. any spaniard may take to the indies what arms he wishes, notwithstanding the prohibition. " th. his highness abolishes the contribution by the owners of one 'castellano' for every indian, they possess. " th. those to whom the admiral grants permission to bring indians (from other islands) and who used to pay the fifth of their value (to the royal treasurer) shall be allowed to bring them free. " th. indians once given to any person shall never be taken from him, except for delinquencies, punishable by forfeiture of property. " th. this disposition reduces the king's share in the produce of the gold-mines from one-fifth and one-ninth to one-fifth and one-tenth, and extends the privilege of working them from one to two years. " th. whosoever wishes to conquer any part of the continent or of the gulf of pearls, may apply to the officials in seville, who will give him a license, etc." the construction of a smelting oven for the gold, of hospitals and churches for each new settlement, the making of roads and bridges and other dispositions, wise and good in themselves, were also decreed; but they became new causes of affliction for the indians, inasmuch as _they_ paid for them with their labor. for example: to the man who undertook to construct and maintain a hospital, indians were assigned. he hired them out to work in the mines or on the plantations, and with the sums thus received often covered more than the expense of maintaining the hospital. the curious medley of religious zeal, philanthropy, and gold-hunger, communicated the first governors under the title of "instructions" did not long keep them in doubt as to which of the three--the observance of religious practises, the kind treatment of the natives, or the remittance of gold--was most essential to secure the king's favor. it was not secret that the monarch, in his _private_ instructions, went straight to the point and wasted no words on religious or humanitarian considerations, the proof of which is his letter to ponce, dated november , . "i have seen your letter of august th. be very diligent in searching for gold. take out as much as you can, and having smolten it in la española, send it at once. settle the island as best you can. write often and let us know what happens and what may be necessary." it was but natural, therefore, that the royal recommendations of clemency remained a dead letter, and that, under the pressure of the incessant demand for gold, the indians were reduced to the most abject state of misery. [illustration: columbus monument, near aguadilla.] until the year the indians remained restless and subordinate, and in july, , the efforts of the rulers in spain to ameliorate their condition were embodied in what are known as the ordinances of valladolid. these ordinances, after enjoining a general kind treatment of the natives, recommend that small pieces of land be assigned to them on which to cultivate corn, yucca, cotton, etc., and raise fowls for their own maintenance. the "encomendero," or master, was to construct four rustic huts for every indians. they were to be instructed in the doctrines of the christian religion, the new-born babes were to be baptized, polygamy to be prohibited. they were to attend mass with their masters, who were to teach one young man in every forty to read. the boys who served as pages and domestic servants were to be taught by the friars in the convents, and afterward returned to the estates to teach the others. the men were not to carry excessively heavy loads. pregnant women were not to work in the mines, nor was it permitted to beat them with sticks or whips under penalty of five gold pesos. they were to be provided with food, clothing, and a hammock. their "areytos" (dances) were not to be interrupted, and inspectors were to be elected among the spaniards to see that all these and former dispositions were complied with, and all negligence on the part of the masters severely punished. the credit for these well-intentioned ordinances undoubtedly belongs to the dominican friars, who from the earliest days of the conquest had nobly espoused the cause of the indians and denounced the cruelties committed on them in no measured terms. friar antonia montesinos, in a sermon preached in la española in , which was attended by diego columbus, the crown officers, and all the notabilities, denounced their proceedings with regard to the indians so vehemently that they left the church deeply offended, and that same day intimated to the bishop the necessity of recantation, else the order should leave the island. the bishop answered that montesinos had but expressed the opinion of the whole community; but that, to allay the scandal among the lower class of spaniards in the island, the father would modify his accusations in the next sermon. when the day arrived the church was crowded, but instead of recantation, the intrepid monk launched out upon fresh animadversion, and ended by saying that he did so in the service not of god only, but of the king. the officials were furious. pasamonte, the treasurer, the most heartless destroyer of natives among all the king's officers, wrote, denouncing the dominicans as rebels, and sent a franciscan friar to spain to support his accusation. the king was much offended, and when montesinos and the prior of his convent arrived in madrid to contradict pasamonte's statements, they found the doors of the palace closed against them. nothing daunted and imbued with the true apostolic spirit, they made their way, without asking permission, to the royal presence, and there advocated the cause of the indians so eloquently that ferdinand promised to have the matter investigated immediately. a council of theologians and jurists was appointed to study the matter and hear the evidence on both sides; but they were so long in coming to a decision that montesinos and his prior lost patience and insisted on a resolution, whereupon they decided that the distributions were legal in virtue of the powers granted by the holy see to the kings of castilla, and that, if it was a matter of conscience at all, it was one for the king and his councilors, and not for the officials, who simply obeyed orders. the two dominicans were ordered to return to la española, and by the example of their virtues and mansuetude stimulate those who might be inclined to act wickedly. the royal conscience was not satisfied, however, with the sophistry of his councilors, and as a quietus to it, the _well-meaning_ ordinances just cited were enacted. they, too, remained a dead letter, and not even the scathing and persevering denunciations of las casas, who continued the good work begun by montesinos, could obtain any practical improvement in the lot of the indians until it was too late, and thousands of them had been crushed under the heel of the conqueror. * * * * * king ferdinand's efforts to make puerto rico a prosperous colony were rendered futile by the dissensions between the admiral's and his own partizans and the passions awakened by the favoritism displayed in the distribution of indians. that the king took a great interest in the colonization of the island is shown by the many ordinances and decrees issued all tending to that end. he gave special licenses to people in spain and in santo domingo to establish themselves in puerto rico.[ ] in his minute instructions to ponce and his successors he regulated every branch of the administration, and wrote to ceron and diaz: " ...i wish this island well governed and peopled as a special affair of mine." on a single day (february , ) he made, among others of a purely private character, the following public dispositions: "that the tithes and 'primicias'" [ ] should be paid in kind only; that the fifth part of the output of the mines should be paid only during the first ten years; that he ceded to the colony for the term of four years all fines imposed by the courts, to be employed in the construction of roads and bridges; that the traffic between san juan and la española should be free, and that this island should enjoy the same rights and privileges as the other; that no children or grandchildren of people executed or burned for crimes or heresy should be admitted into the colony, and that an exact account should be sent to him of all the colonists, caciques, and indians and their distribution. he occupied himself with the island's affairs with equal interest up to the time of his death, in . he made it a bishopric in . in he disposed that the colonists were to build houses of adobe, that is, of sun-dried bricks; that all married men should send for their wives, and that useful trees should be planted. in he prohibited labor contracts, or the purchase or transfer of slaves or indians "encomendados" (distributed). finally, in , he provided for the defense of the island against the incursions of the caribs. if these measures did not produce the desired result, it was due to the discord among the colonists, created by the system of "repartimientos" introduced in an evil hour by columbus, a system which was the poisoned source of most of the evils that have afflicted the antilles. footnotes: [footnote : the twelfth part of a "fanega," equal to about two gallons, dry measure.] [footnote : cedulas de vecindad.] [footnote : first-fruits.] chapter ix the return of ceron and diaz--ponce's first expedition to florida - ceron and diaz returned to san juan in november, . before their departure from seville they received sundry marks of royal favor. among these was permission to diaz and his wife to wear silken garments, and to transfer to san juan the indians they possessed in la española. we have seen that the first article of the king's instructions to them enjoins the maintenance of friendly relations with ponce, and in the distribution of indians to favor those who had distinguished themselves in the suppression of the revolt. they did nothing of the kind. their first proceeding was to show their resentment at the summary treatment they had received at the captain's hands by depriving him of the administration of the royal granges, the profits of which he shared with king ferdinand, because, as his highness explained to pasamente in june, , "ponce received no salary as captain of the island." they next sent a lengthy exposition to madrid, accusing the captain of maladministration of the royal domain, and, to judge by the tenor of the king's letter to ponce, dated in burgos on the d of february, , they succeeded in influencing him to some extent against his favorite, though not enough to deprive him of the royal patronage. "i am surprised," wrote the king, "at the small number of indians and the small quantity of gold from our mines. the fiscal will audit your accounts, that you may be at liberty for the expedition to bemini, which some one else has already proposed to me; but i prefer _you_, as i wish to recompense your services and because i believe that you will serve us better there than in our grange in san juan, _in which you have proceeded with some negligence_." in the redistribution of indians which followed, ceron and diaz ignored the orders of the sovereign and openly favored their own followers to the neglect of the conquerors', whose claims were prior, and whose wounds and scars certainly entitled them to consideration. this caused such a storm of protest and complaint against the doings of his protégés that diego columbus was forced to suspend them and appoint commander moscoso in their place. this personage only made matters worse. the first thing _he_ did was to practise another redistribution of indians. this exasperated everybody to such an extent that the admiral found it necessary to come to san juan himself. he came, accompanied by a numerous suite of aspirants to different positions, among them christopher mendoza, the successor of moscoso ( ). after the restoration of ceron and diaz in their offices, ponce quietly retired to his residence in capárra. he was wealthy and could afford to bide his time, but the spirit of unrest in him chafed under this forced inaction. the idea of discovering the island, said to exist somewhere in the northwestern part of these indies, where wonderful waters flowed that restored old age to youth and kept youth always young, occupied his mind more and more persistently, until, having obtained the king's sanction, he fitted out an expedition of three ships and sailed from the port of aguáda march , . strange as it may seem, that men like ponce, zuñiga, and the other leading expeditionists should be glad of an opportunity to risk their lives and fortunes in the pursuit of a chimera, it must be remembered that the island of bemini itself was not a chimera. the followers of columbus, the majority of them ignorant and credulous, had seen a mysterious new world rise, as it were, from the depths of the ocean. as the islands, one after the other, appeared before their astonished eyes, they discovered real marvels each day. the air, the land, the sea, were full of them. the natives pointed in different directions and spoke of other islands, and the adventurers' imaginations peopled them with fancied wonders. there was, according to an old legend, a fountain of perennial youth somewhere in the world, and where was it more likely to be found than in this hitherto unknown part of it? ponce and his companions believed in its existence as firmly as, some years later, ferdinand pizarro believed in the existence of el dorado and the golden lake of parimé. the expedition touched at guanakáni on the th of march, and on the th discovered what ponce believed to be the island of which he was in search. on april d ponce landed and took possession in the king's name. the native name of the island was cansio or cautix, but the captain named it "la florida," some say because he found it covered with the flowers of spring; others, because he had discovered it on resurrection day, called "pascua florida" by the spanish catholics. the land was inhabited by a branch of the warlike seminole indians, who disputed the spaniards' advance into the interior. no traces of gold were found, nor did the invaders feel themselves rejuvenated, when, after a wearisome march or fierce fight with the natives, they bathed in, or drank of, the waters of some stream or spring. they had come to a decidedly inhospitable shore, and ponce, after exploring the eastern and southern littoral, and discovering the cayos group of small islands, turned back to san juan, where he arrived in the beginning of october, "looking much older," says the chronicler, "than when he went in search of rejuvenation." two years later he sailed for the peninsula and anchored in bayona in april, . king ferdinand received him graciously and conferred on him the titles of adelantado of bemini and la florida, with civil and criminal jurisdiction on land and sea. he also made him commander of the fleet for the destruction of the caribs, and perpetual "regidor" (prefect) of san juan bautista _de puerto rico_. this last surname for the island began to be used in official documents about this time (october, ). the fleet for the destruction of the caribs consisted of three caravels. with these, ponce sailed from bétis on may , ,[ ] and reached the leeward islands in due course. in guadeloupe, one of the carib strongholds, he landed a number of men without due precaution. they were attacked by the natives. fifteen of them were wounded, four of whom died. some women who had been sent ashore to wash the soiled linen were carried off. ponce's report of the event was laconic: "i wrote from san lucas and from la palma," he writes to the king (august th to th). "in guadeloupe, while taking in water the indians wounded some of my men. they shall be chastised." haro, one of the crown officers in san juan, informed the king afterward of all the circumstances of the affair, and added: "he (ponce) left the (wounded) men in a deserted island on this side, which is santa cruz, and now he sends a captain, instead of going himself ..." ponce's third landing occurred june , . he found the island in a deplorable condition. discontent and disorder were rampant. the king had deprived diego columbus of the right to distribute indians (january , ), and had commissioned pasamonte to make a new distribution in san juan. the treasurer had delegated the task to licentiate sancho velasquez, who received at the same time power to audit the accounts of all the crown officers. the redistribution was practised in september, , with no better result than the former ones. it was impossible to satisfy the demands of all. the discontented were mostly ponce's old companions, who overwhelmed the king with protests, while velasquez defended himself, accusing ponce and his friends of turbulence and exaggerated ambition. as a consequence of all this strife and discord, the indians were turned over from one master to another, distributed like cattle over different parts of the islands, and at each change their lot became worse. still, there were large numbers of them that had never yet been subjugated. some, like the caciques of humacáo and daguáo, who occupied the eastern and southeastern parts of the island, had agreed to live on a peace footing with the spaniards, but ponce's impolitic proceeding in taking by force ten men from the village of the first-named chief caused him and his neighbor of daguáo to burn their villages and take to the mountains in revolt. many other natives had found a comparatively safe refuge in the islands along the coast, and added largely to the precarious situation by pouncing on the spanish settlements along the coast when least expected. governor mendoza undertook a punitive expedition to vieques, in which the cacique yaureibó was killed; but the indians had lost that superstitious dread of the spaniards and of their weapons that had made them submit at first, and they continued their incursions, impeding the island's progress for more than a century. footnotes: [footnote : washington irving says january.] chapter x dissensions--transfer of the capital - the total number of spaniards in the island at the time of the rebellion did not exceed . of these, between and were killed by the indians. the survivors were reenforced, first by the followers of ceron and diaz, then by some stray adventurers who accompanied diego columbus on his visit to the island. we may assume, therefore, with mr. acosta,[ ] that at the time of which we write the spanish population numbered about , who arángo, in a memorial addressed to the cardinal regent, classifies as government officials, old conquerors, new hirelings, and "marrános hijos de reconciliados," which, translated, means, "vile brood of pardoned criminals," the latter being, in all probability, the immigrants into whose antecedents the king had recommended his officers in seville not to inquire. this population was divided into different hostile parties. the most powerful at the time was ponce's party, led by sedeño, the auditor, and villafranca, the treasurer; opposed to whom were the partizans of ceron and diaz, the protégés of the admiral, and those who had found favor with velasquez, all of them deadly enemies because of the unequal division among them of the unhappy indians. the expedition to florida and the honors conferred upon him by the king naturally enhanced ponce's prestige among his old companions. diego columbus himself was fain to recognize the superior claim of him who now presented himself with the title adelantado of bemini and florida, so that the captain's return to office was effected without opposition. with his appointment as perpetual prefect, ponce assumed the right to make a redistribution of indians, but could not exercise it, because sancho velasquez had made one, as delegate of pasamonte, only the year before (september, ). in virtue of his special appointment as judge auditor of the accounts of all the crown officers, he had condemned ponce during his absence to pay , gold pesos for shortcomings in his administration of the royal estates.[ ] the licentiate's report to the king, dated april , , gives an idea of the state of affairs in san juan at the time. " ... i found the island under tyranny, as will be seen from the documents i enclose. juan ceron and miguel diaz are responsible for , castellanos[ ] for indians taken from persons who held them by schedule from your highness." "it would be well to send some bad characters away from here and some of the admiral's creatures, on whom the rest count for protection." "the treasurer (haro) and the auditor are honest men. the accountant (sedeño) is not a man to look after your highness's interests. the place of factor is vacant." "to your highness indians have been assigned in puerto rico and in san german." a few days later (may , ) velasquez himself was accused of gross abuse in the discharge of his duties by iñigo de zuñiga, who wrote to the king: " ... this licentiate has committed many injustices and offenses, as the attorney can testify. he gave indians to many officers and merchants, depriving conquerors and settlers of them. he gambled much and always won, because they let him win in order to have him in good humor at the time of distribution of indians. he carried away much money, especially from the 'naborias.'" [ ] "he took the principal cacique, who lived nearest to the mines, for himself, and rented him out on condition that he keep sixteen men continually at work in the mines, and if any failed he was to receive half a ducat per head a day." "he has taken indians from other settlers and made them wash gold for himself, etc." before ponce's departure for spain the island had been divided into two departments or jurisdictions, the northern, with capárra as its capital, under the direct authority of the governor, the southern division, with san german as the capital, under a lieutenant-governor, the chain of mountains in the interior being the mutual boundary. this division was maintained till . capárra, or puerto rico, as it was now called, and san german were the only settlements when ponce returned. the year before ( ) another settlement had been made in daguáo, but it had been destroyed by the caribs, and this ever-present danger kept all immigration away. the king recognized the fact, and to obviate this serious difficulty in the way of the island's settlement, he wrote to his officers in seville: " ... spread reports about the great quantities of gold to be found in puerto rico, and do not trouble about the antecedents of those who wish to go, for if not useful as laborers they will do to fight." that ferdinand was well aware of the insecurity of his hold on the island is shown by his subsequent dispositions. to the royal contractors or commissaries he wrote in : "while two forts are being constructed, one in puerto rico and the other in san german, where, in case of rebellion, our treasure will be secure, you will give arms and ammunition to ponce de leon for our account, with an artilleryman, that he may have them in his house, which is to do duty as a fortress." and on may , , he wrote from medina del campo: " ... deliver to ponce six 'espingardas.'" [ ] during this same period the island was constituted a bishopric, with alonzo manso, ex-sacristan of prince john and cánon of salamanca as prelate. he came in the beginning of , when the intestine troubles were at their worst, bringing instructions to demand payment of tithes _in specie_ and a royal grant of indians to himself, which, added to the fact that his presence would be a check upon the prevalent immorality, raised such a storm of opposition and intrigue against him that he could not exercise his functions. there was no church fit for services. this furnished him with a pretext to return to the peninsula. when ponce arrived the bishop was on the point of departure. there can be no doubt that king ferdinand, in reappointing ponce to the government of the island, trusted to the captain's military qualities for the reestablishment of order and the suppression of the attacks of the caribs, but the result did not correspond to his majesty's expectations. haro, the treasurer, reported to the king on october , : " ... from the moment of his arrival ponce has fomented discord. in order to remain here himself, he sent zuñiga, his lieutenant, with the fleet. he caused the caciques humacáo and daguáo, who had but just submitted, to revolt again by forcibly taking ten men for the fleet." the crown officers confirmed this statement in a separate report. these accusations continued to the time of ferdinand's death (february , ), when cardinal jimenez de cisneros became regent of spain. this renowned prelate, whom prince charles, afterward emperor charles v, when confirming him in the regency, addressed as "the very reverend father in christ, cardinal of spain, archbishop of toledo, primate of all the spanish territories, chief chancellor of castilla, our very dear and much beloved friend and master," was also grand inquisitor, and was armed with the tremendous power of the terrible holy office. it was dangerous for the accusers and the accused alike to annoy such a personage with tales inspired by petty rivalries from an insignificant island in the west indies. nevertheless, one of the first communications from puerto rico that was laid before him was a memorial written by one arángo, accusing velasquez, among other things, of having given indians to soldiers and to common people, instead of to conquerors and married men. "in lent," says the accuser, "he goes to a grange, where he remains without hearing mass on sundays, eating meat, and saying things against the faith ..." the immediate effect of these complaints and mutual accusations was the suspension in his functions of diego columbus and the appointment of a triumvirate of jerome friars to govern these islands. this was followed two years later by the return of bishop manso to san juan, armed with the dreadful powers of general inquisitor of the indies and by the nomination of licentiate antonio de la gama as judge auditor of the accounts of sancho velasquez. the judge found him guilty of partiality and other offenses, and on june , , wrote to the regent: "i have not sent the accounts of sancho velasquez, because it was necessary that he should go with them, but the bishop of this island has taken him for the holy inquisition _and he has died in prison_." the jerome fathers on their way to la española, in , touched at what they describe as "the port of puerto rico, which is in the island of san juan de boriquén," and the treasurer, haro, wrote of them on january , : " ... they have done nothing during the year, and the inhabitants are uncertain and fear changes. this is the principal cause of harm to the indians. it is necessary to dispose what is to be done ... although great care is now exercised in the treatment of the indians their numbers grow less for all that, because just as they are ignorant of things concerning the faith, so do they ignore things concerning their health, and they are of very weak constitution." the frequent changes in the government that had been made by diego columbus, the arrest of velasquez and his death in the gloomy dungeons of the inquisition, the arrival of de la gama as judge auditor and governor _ad interim_, and his subsequent marriage with ponce's daughter isabel, all these events but served to embitter the strife of parties. "the spirit of vengeance, ambition, and other passions had become so violent and deep-rooted among the spaniards," says abbad,[ ] "that god ordained their chastisement in various ways." the removal of the capital from its swampy location to the islet which it now occupies was another source of dissension. it appears that the plan was started immediately after ceron's accession, for the king wrote to him november , : "juan ponce says that he located the town in the best part of the island. we fear that you want to change it. you shall not do so without our special order. if there is just reason for change you must inform us first." velasquez, in his report of april, , mentions that he accompanied the town council of capárra to see the site for the new capital, and that to him it seemed convenient. in licentiate rodrigo de figueroa sent a lengthy exposition accompanied by the certified declarations of the leading inhabitants regarding the salubrity of the islet and the insalubrity of capárra, with a copy of the disposition of the jerome fathers authorizing the transfer, and leaving ponce, who strenuously opposed it, at liberty to live in his fortified house in capárra as long as he liked. on november , , baltazar castro, in the name of the crown officers of san juan, reported to the emperor: "the city of puerto rico has been transferred to an islet which is in the port where the ships anchor, a very good and healthy location." footnotes: [footnote : annotations, p. .] [footnote : ponce protested and appealed to the audiencia, but did not obtain restitution till .] [footnote : a castellano was the part of a mark of gold. the mark had ounces.] [footnote : indians distributed to be employed as domestic servants.] [footnote : small pieces of ordnance.] [footnote : xii, p. .] chapter xi calamities--ponce's second expedition to florida and death - among the calamities referred to by friar abbad as visitations of providence was one which the spaniards had brought upon themselves. another epidemic raged principally among the indians. in january, , the jerome friars wrote to the government from la española: " ... it has pleased our lord to send a pestilence of smallpox among the indians here, and nearly one-third of them have died. we are told that in the island of san juan the indians have begun to die of the same disease." another scourge came in the form of ants. "these insects," says abbad, quoting from herrera, "destroyed the yucca or casabe, of which the natives made their bread, and killed the most robust trees by eating into their roots, so that they turned black, and became so infected that the birds would not alight on them. the fields were left barren and waste as if fire from heaven had descended on them. these insects invaded the houses and tormented the inmates night and day. their bite caused acute pains to adults and endangered the lives of children. the affliction was general," says abbad, "but god heard the people's vows and the pests disappeared." the means by which this happy result was obtained are described by father torres vargas: "lots were drawn to see what saint should be chosen as the people's advocate before god. saint saturnine was returned, and the plague ceased at once." "some time after there appeared a worm which also destroyed the yucca. lots were again drawn, and this time saint patrick came out; but the bishop and the ecclesiastical chapter were of opinion that this saint, being little venerated, had no great influence in heaven. therefore, lots were drawn again and again, three times, and each time the rejected saint's name came out. this was clearly a miracle, and saint patrick was chosen as advocate. to atone for their unwillingness to accept him, the chapter voted the saint an annual mass, sermon, and procession, which was kept up for many years without ever anything happening again to the casabe ..." to the above-described visitations, nature added others and more cruel ones. these were the destructive tempests, called by the indians ouracan. the first hurricane since the discovery of the island by columbus of which there is any record happened in july, , when the crown officers reported to the king that a great storm had caused the death of many indians by sickness and starvation. on october , , there was another, which juan de vadillo described thus: " ... there was a great storm of wind and rain which lasted twenty-four hours and destroyed the greater part of the town, with the church. the damage caused by the flooding of the plantations is greater than any one can estimate. many rich men have grown poor, among them pedro moreno, the lieutenant-governor." in july and august, , the scourge was repeated three times in six weeks, and governor lando wrote to luis columbus, then governor of la española: " ... the storms have destroyed all the plantations, drowned many cattle, and caused a great dearth of food. half of the houses in this city have been blown down; of the other half those that are least damaged are without roofs. in the country and at the mines not a house is left standing. everybody has been impoverished and thinking of going away. there are no more indians and the land must be cultivated with negroes, who are a monopoly, and can not be brought here for less than or 'castellanos' apiece. the city prays that the payment of all debts may be postponed for three years." seven years later ( ), three hurricanes in two months again completely devastated the island. " ... they are the greatest that have been experienced here," wrote the city officers. " ... the floods have carried away all the plantations along the borders of the rivers, many slaves and cattle have been drowned, want and poverty are universal. those who wanted to leave the island before are now more than ever anxious to do so." the incursions of caribs from the neighboring islands made the existence of the colony still more precarious. wherever a new settlement was made, they descended, killing the spaniards, destroying the plantations, and carrying off the natives. [illustration: statue of ponce de leon, san juan] * * * * * the first news of the wonderful achievements of cortez in mexico reached san juan in , and stirred the old adventurer ponce to renewed action. on february , , he wrote to the emperor: "i discovered florida and some other small islands at my own expense, and now i am going to settle them with plenty of men and two ships, and i am going to explore the coast, to see if it compares with the lands (cuba) discovered by velasquez. i will leave here in four or five days, and beg your majesty to favor me, so that i may be enabled to carry out this great enterprise." accordingly, he left the port of aguáda on the th of the same month with two ships, well provided with all that was necessary for conquest. but the captain's star of fortune was waning. he had a stormy passage, and when he and his men landed they met with such fierce resistance from the natives that after several encounters and the loss of many men, ponce himself being seriously wounded, they were forced to reembark. feeling that his end was approaching, the captain did not return to san juan, but sought a refuge in puerto principe, where he died. one of his ships found its way to vera cruz, where its stores of arms and ammunition came as a welcome accession to those of cortez. the emperor bestowed the father's title of adelantado of florida and bemini on his son, and the remains of the intrepid adventurer, who had found death where he had hoped to find perennial youth, rested in cuban soil till his grandchildren had them transferred to this island and buried in the dominican convent. a statue was erected to his memory in . it stands in the plaza of san josé in the capital and was cast from the brass cannon left behind by the english after the siege of . chapter xii incursions of fugitive boriquÉn indians and caribs - the conquest of boriquén was far from being completed with the death of guaybána. the panic which the fall of a chief always produces among savages prevented, for the moment, all organized resistance on the part of guaybána's followers, but _they_ did not constitute the whole population of the island. their submission gave the spaniards the dominion over that part of it watered by the culebrinas and the añasco, and over the northeastern district in which ponce had laid the foundations of his first settlement. the inhabitants of the southern and eastern parts of the island, with those of the adjacent smaller islands, were still unsubdued and remained so for years to come. their caciques were probably as well informed of the character of the newcomers and of their doings in la española as was the first guaybána's mother, and they wisely kept aloof so long as their territories were not invaded. the reduced number of spaniards facilitated the maintenance of a comparative independence by these as yet unconquered indians, at the same time that it facilitated the flight of those who, having bent their necks to the yoke, found it unbearably heavy. according to "regidor" (prefect) hernando de mogollon's letter to the jerome fathers, fully one-third of the "pacified" indians--that is, of those who had submitted--had disappeared and found a refuge with their kinsmen in the neighboring islands. the first fugitives from boriquén naturally did not go beyond the islands in the immediate vicinity. vieques, culébras, and la mona became the places of rendezvous whence they started on their retaliatory expeditions, while their spies or their relatives on the main island kept them informed of what was passing. hence, no sooner was a new settlement formed on the borders or in the neighborhood of some river than they pounced upon it, generally at night, dealing death and destruction wherever they went. in vain did juan gil, with ponce's two sons-in-law and a number of tried men, make repeated punitive expeditions to the islands. the attacks seemed to grow bolder, and not till governor mendoza himself led an expedition to vieques, in which the cacique yaureibó was killed, did the indians move southeastward to santa cruz. that the caribs[ ] inhabiting the islands guadeloupe and dominica made common cause with the fugitives from boriquén is not to be doubted. the spaniard was the common enemy and the opportunity for plunder was too good to be lost. but the primary cause of all the so-called carib invasions of puerto rico was the thirst for revenge for the wrongs suffered, and long after those who had smarted under them or who had but witnessed them had passed away, the tradition of them was kept alive by the areytos and songs, in the same way as the memory of the outrages committed by the soldiers of pizarro in peru are kept alive _till this day_ among the indians of the eastern slope of the andes. the fact that neither jamaica nor other islands occupied by spaniards were invaded, goes to prove that in the case of puerto rico the invasions were prompted by bitter resentment of natives who had preferred exile to slavery, coupled, perhaps, with a hope of being able to drive the enemies of their race from their island home, a hope which, if it existed, and if we consider the very limited number of spaniards who occupied it, was not without foundation. * * * * * it was nemesis, therefore, and not the mere lust of plunder, that guided the boriquén indians and their carib allies on their invasions of puerto rico. diego columbus during his visit in had founded a settlement with colonists along the borders of the daguáo and macáo rivers on the eastern coast. they had constructed houses and ranchos, introduced cattle, and commenced their plantations, but without taking any precautions against sudden attacks or providing themselves with extra means of defense. one night they were awakened by the glare of fire and the yells of the savages. as they rushed out to seek safety they fell pierced with arrows or under the blows of the terrible macánas. very few of them escaped. the next attack was in the locality now constituting the municipal district of loiza. this place was settled by several spaniards, among them juan mexia, a man said to have been of herculean strength and great courage. the indian woman with whom he cohabited had received timely warning of the intended attack, a proof that communications existed between the supposed caribs and the indians on the island. she endeavored to persuade the man to seek safety in flight, but he disdained to do so. then she resolved to remain with him and share his fate. both were killed, and alejandro tapia, a native poet, has immortalized the woman's devotion in a romantic, but purely imaginative, composition. ponce's virtual defeat in guadeloupe made the caribs bolder than ever. they came oftener and in larger numbers, always surprising the settlements that were least prepared to offer resistance. five years had elapsed since the destruction of daguáo. a new settlement had gradually sprung up in the neighborhood along the river humacáo and was beginning to prosper, but it was also doomed. on november , , baltazar castro, one of the crown officers, reported to the emperor: "it is about two months since canoes with carib warriors came to this island of san juan and disembarked in the river humacáo, near some spanish settlements, where they killed christians and indians. from here they went to some gold mines and then to some others, killing christians at each place. they burned the houses and took a fishing smack, killing more. they remained from fifteen to twenty days in the country, the christians being unable to hurt them, having no ships. they killed christians in all, and as many indian women, and '_carried off_' natives. they will grow bolder for being allowed to depart without punishment. it would be well if the seville officers sent two light-draft vessels to occupy the mouths of the rivers by which they enter." on april , , a large number of indians made a descent on the south coast, but we have no details of their doings; and in their audacity culminated in an attempt on the capital itself. la gama's report to the emperor of this event is as follows: "on the th of october, after midnight, large pirogues full of caribs entered the bay of puerto rico, and meeting a bark on her way to bayamón, manned by negroes and some other people, they took her. finding that they had been discovered, they did not attempt a landing till sunrise, then they scuttled the bark. some shots fired at them made them leave. three negroes were found dead, pierced with arrows. the people of this town and all along the coast are watching. such a thing as this has not been heard of since the discovery. a fort, arms, artillery, and brigantines of oars each, and no caribs will dare to come. if not sent, fear will depopulate the island." in the same month of the following year ( ) they returned, and this time landed and laid waste the country in the neighborhood of the capital. the report of the crown officers is dated the st of october: "last sunday, the d instant, canoes, in which there may have been caribs, came to this island and landed at a point where there are some agricultural establishments belonging to people of this city. it is the place where the best gold in the island is found, called daguáo and the mines of llagüello. here they plundered the estate of christopher guzman, the principal settler. they killed him and some other christians,[ ] whites, blacks, and indians, besides some fierce dogs, and horses which stood ready saddled. they burned them all, together with the houses, and committed many cruelties with the christians. they carried off negroes and indians, _to eat them, as is their wont_. we fear that they will attack the defenseless city in greater force, and the fear is so great that the women and children dare not sleep in their houses, but go to the church and the monastery, which are built of stone. we men guard the city and the roads, being unable to attend to our business. "we insist that brigantines be armed and equipped, as was ordered by the catholic king. no caribs will then dare to come. let the port be fortified or the island will be deserted. the governor and the officers know how great is the need, but they may make no outlays without express orders." as a result of the repeated requests for light-draft vessels, brigantines were constructed in seville in and shipped, in sections, on board of a ship belonging to master juan de leon, who arrived in june, . the crown officers immediately invited all who wished to man the brigantines and make war on the caribs, offering them as pay half of the product of the sale of the slaves they should make, the other half to be applied to the purchase of provisions. the brigantines were unfit for service. in february, , the emperor was informed: "of the brigantines which your majesty sent for the defense of this island only the timber came, and half of that was unfit.... we have built brigantines with the money intended for fortifications." governor lando wrote about the same time: "we suffer a thousand injuries from the caribs of guadeloupe and dominica. they come every year to assault us. although the city is so poor, we have spent , pesos in fitting out an expedition of men against them; but, however much they are punished, the evil will not disappear till your majesty orders these islands to be settled." the expedition referred to sailed under the orders of joan de ayucar, and reached dominica in may, . fifteen or villages of about houses each were burned, natives were killed, and prisoners were taken, the majority women and boys. the spaniards penetrated a distance of ten leagues into the interior of the island, meeting with little resistance, because the warrior population was absent. eight or pirogues and more than canoes were also burned. with this punishment the fears of the people in san juan were considerably allayed. in sedeño led an expedition against the caribs of trinidad and bartholomé. carreño fitted out another in . he brought a number of slaves for sale, and the crown officers asked permission to brand them on the forehead, "as is done in la española and in cubágua." the indians returned assault for assault. between the years and they were specially active along the southern coast of san juan, so that governor francisco bahamonde lugo had to take the field against them in person and was wounded in the encounter. loiza, which had been resettled, was destroyed for the second time in , and a year or so later the caribs made a night attack on aguáda, where they destroyed the franciscan convent and killed monks. with the end of the sixteenth and the commencement of the seventeenth centuries the west indian archipelago became the theater of french and english maritime enterprise. the carib strongholds were occupied, and by degrees their fierce spirit was subdued, their war dances relinquished, their war canoes destroyed, their traditions forgotten, and the bold savages, once the terror of the west indian seas, succumbed in their turn to the inexorable law of the survival of the fittest. footnotes: [footnote : the west indian islands were inhabited at the time of discovery by at least three races of different origin. one of these races occupied the bahamas. columbus describes them as simple, peaceful creatures, whose only weapon was a pointed stick or cane. they were of a light copper color, rather good-looking, and probably had formerly occupied the whole eastern part of the archipelago, whence they had been driven or exterminated by the caribs, caribós, or guáribos, a savage, warlike, and cruel race, who had invaded the west indies from the continent, by way of the orinoco. the larger antilles, cuba, la española, and puerto rico, were occupied by a race which probably originated from some southern division of the northern continent. the chroniclers mention the guaycures and others as their ancestors, and stahl traces their origin to a mixture of the phoenicians with the aborigines of remote antiquity] [footnote : abbad says .] chapter xiii depopulation of the island--preventive measures--introduction of negro slaves - the natural consequence of natural calamities and invasions was the rapid disappearance of the natives. "the indians are few and serve badly," wrote sedeño in , about the same time that the crown officers, to explain the diminution in the gold product, wrote that many indians had died of hunger, as a result of the hurricane. " ... the people in la mona," they said, "have provided loads of bread, with which we have bought an estate in san german. it will not do to bring the indians of that island away, because they are needed for the production of bread." strenuous efforts to prevent the extinction of the indians were made by father bartolomé las casas, soon after the death of king ferdinand. this worthy dominican friar had come to the court for the sole purpose of denouncing the system of "encomiendas" and the cruel treatment of the natives to which it gave rise. he found willing listeners in cardinal cisneros and dean adrian, of lovaino, the regents, who recompensed his zeal with the title of "protector of the indians." the appointment of a triumvirate of jerome friars to govern la española and san juan ( ) was also due to las casas's efforts. two years later the triumvirate reported to the emperor that in compliance with his orders they had taken away the indians from all non-resident spaniards in la española and had collected them in villages. soon after the emperor's arrival in spain las casas obtained further concessions in favor of the indians. not the least important among these were granted in the schedule of july , , which recognized the principle that the indians were born free, and contained the following dispositions: st. that in future no more distributions of indians should take place. d. that all indians assigned to non-residents, from the monarch downward, should be _ipse facto_ free, and be established in villages, under the authority of their respective caciques; and d. that all residents in these islands, who still possessed indians, were bound to conform strictly, in their treatment of them, to the ordinances for their protection previously promulgated. antonio de la gama was charged with the execution of this decree. he sent a list of non-residents, february , , with the number of indians taken from each, his majesty himself heading the list with . the total number thus liberated was . these dispositions created fierce opposition. licentiate figueroa addressed the emperor on the subject, saying: " ... it is necessary to overlook the 'encomiendas,' otherwise the people will be unable to maintain themselves, and the island will be abandoned." however, the crown officers ascribe the licentiate's protest to other motives than the desire for the good of the island. "he has done much harm," they wrote. "he has brought some covetous young men with him and made them inspectors. they imposed heavy fines and gave the confiscated indians to their friends and relations. he and they are rich, while the old residents have scarcely wherewith to maintain themselves." but figueroa had foreseen these accusations, for he concludes his above-mentioned letter to the emperor, saying: " ... let your majesty give no credence to those who complain. most of them are very cruel with the indians, and care not if they be exterminated, provided they themselves can amass gold and return to castilla." martin fernandez enciso, a bachelor-at-law, addressed to the emperor a learned dissertation intended to refute the doctrine that the indians were born free, maintaining that the right of conquest of the new world granted by the pope necessarily included the right to reduce the inhabitants to slavery. and thus, in spite of the philanthropic efforts of las casas, of the well-intentioned ordinances of the catholic kings, and of the more radical measures sanctioned by charles v, the indian's lot was not bettered till it was too late to save him from extinction. "the indians are dying out!" this is the melancholy refrain of all the official communications from to . the emperor made a last effort to save the remnant in , and decreed that all those who still had indians in their possession should construct stone or adobe houses for them under penalty of losing them. in it was ordained by an order in council that all indians still alive in cuba, la española, and puerto rico, were as free as the spaniards themselves, and they should be permitted to loiter and be idle, "that they might increase and multiply." bishop rodrigo bastidas, who was charged to see to the execution of this order in puerto rico, still found indians to liberate. notwithstanding these terminant orders, so powerless were they to abolish the abuses resulting from the iniquitous system, that as late as the indians were still treated as slaves. in that year governor vallejo wrote to the emperor: "i found great irregularity in the treatment of these few indians, ... they were being secretly sold as slaves, etc." finally, in , presbyter ponce de leon and bachelor-at-law santa clara, in a communication to the authorities, stated: "at the time when this island was taken there were found here and distributed , indians, without counting those who would not submit, and to-day there is not one left, excepting or , who have been brought from the continent. they died of disease, sarampion, rheum, smallpox, and ill-usage, or escaped to other islands with the caribs. the few that remain are scattered here and there among the spaniards on their little plantations. some serve as soldiers. they do not speak their language, because they are mostly born in the island, and they are good christians." this is the last we read of the boriquén indians. * * * * * with the gradual extinction of the natives, not only the gold output ceased, but the cultivation of ginger, cotton, cacao, indigo, etc., in which articles a small trade had sprung up, was abandoned. the carib incursions and hurricanes did the rest, and the island soon became a vast jungle which everybody who could abandoned. "we have been writing these last four years," wrote the crown officers, february , , "that the island is becoming depopulated, the gold is diminishing, the indians are gone. some new gold deposits were discovered in , and as much as , pesos were extracted. we thought this would contribute to the repeopling of the island, but the contrary has happened. the people, ruined by the hurricanes of the year , thinking that they might find other gold deposits, bought negroes on credit at very high prices to search for them. they found none, and have not been able to pay their creditors. some are fugitive in the mountains, others in prison, others again have stolen vessels belonging to the administration and have gone with their negroes no one knows where. with all this and the news from peru, not a soul would remain if they were not stopped." when the news of the fabulous riches discovered in peru reached this island, the desire to emigrate became irresistible. governor lando wrote to the emperor, february , : " ... two months ago there came a ship here from peru to buy horses. the captain related such wonderful things that the people here and in san german became excited, and even the oldest settlers wanted to leave. if i had not instantly ordered him away the island would have been deserted. _i have imposed the death penalty on whosoever shall attempt to leave the island_." on july d he wrote again: " ... many, mad with the news from peru, have secretly embarked in one or other of the numerous small ports at a distance from the city. among the remaining settlers even the oldest is constantly saying: 'god help me to go to peru.' i am watching day and night to prevent their escape, but can not assure you that i shall be able to retain the people. "two months ago i heard that some of them had obtained possession of a ship at a point on the coast two leagues from here and intended to leave. i sent three vessels down the coast and twenty horsemen by land. they resisted, and my presence was required to take them. three were killed and others wounded. _i ordered some of them to be flogged and cut off the feet of others_, and then i had to dissimulate the seditious cries of others who were in league with them and intended to join them in la mona, which is twelve leagues from here. if your majesty does not promptly remedy this evil, i fear that the island will be entirely depopulated or remain like a country inn. this island is the key and the entrance to all the antilles. the french and english freebooters land here first. the caribs carry off our neighbors and friends before our very eyes. if a ship were to come here at night with fifty men, they could burn the city and kill every soul of us. i ask protection for this noble island, now so depopulated that one sees scarcely any spaniards, only negroes ..." but even the negro population was scarce. the introduction of african slaves into la española had proceeded _pari passu_ with the gradual disappearance of the indians. as early as a certain juan sanchez had obtained permission to introduce five caravels of negro slaves into that island free of duty, though ovando complained that many of them escaped to the mountains and made the indians more insubordinate than ever; but in san juan a special permission to introduce negroes was necessary. geron in and sedeño in were permitted to bring in two negroes each only by swearing that they were for their own personal service. in the general introduction of african slaves was authorized by royal schedule, but two ducats per head had to be paid for the privilege. cardinal cisneros suspended the export of slaves from spain in , but the emperor sanctioned it again in , to stop, if possible, the destruction of the natives. father las casas favored the introduction of african slaves for the same reason, and obtained from the emperor a concession in favor of his high steward, garrebod, to send , negroes to la española, cuba, and puerto rico. garrebod sold the concession to a genovese firm ( ), but negroes remained very scarce and dear in san juan till , when, by special dispensation of the empress in favor of some merchants, negroes were brought to this island. they were greedily taken up on credit at exorbitant prices, which caused the ruin of the purchasers and made the city authorities of san juan petition her majesty april , , praying that no more negro ¡slaves might be permitted to come to the island for a period of eighteen months, because of the inability of the people to pay for them. in governor lando's letter of july, , above quoted, he informs the emperor that in the only two towns that existed in the island at that time (san juan and san german) there were "very few spaniards and only negroes in each." the incursions of the french and english freebooters, to which he refers in the same letter, had commenced six years before, and these incursions bring the tale of the island's calamities to a climax. chapter xiv attacks by french privateers--cause of the war with france--charles v.--ruin of the island - the depredations committed by the privateers, which about this time began to infest the antilles and prey upon the spanish possessions, were a result of the wars with almost every nation in europe, in which spain became involved after the accession of charles, the son of juana, daughter of ferdinand and isabella and philip i, archduke of austria. the young prince had been educated amid all the pomp and splendor of the imperial court. he was a perfect type of the medieval cavalier, who could break a lance with the proudest knight in the empire, and was worthy in every respect of the high destiny that awaited him. at the age of twenty he became the heir to eight kingdoms,[ ] the recognized ruler of the netherlands, lord of vast territories in africa, and absolute arbiter of the destinies of the spanish division of the new world. scarcely had this powerful young prince been accepted and crowned by the last and most recalcitrant of his kingdoms (cataluña), and while still in barcelona, the news arrived of the death of his grandfather, maximilian, king of the romans and emperor elect of germany. intrigues for the possession of the coveted crown were set on foot at once by the prince, now charles i of spain and by francis i, king of france. the powers ranged themselves on either side as their interests dictated. henry viii of england declared himself neutral; pope león x, who distrusted both claimants, was waiting to see which of them would buy his support by the largest concessions to the temporal power of the vatican; the swiss cantons hated france and sided with charles; venice favored francis i.[ ] the german diet assembled at frankfort june , , and unanimously elected frederick of saxony, surnamed the prudent. he showed his prudence by declining the honor, and in an address to the assembly dwelt at some length on the respective merits of the two pretenders, and ended by declaring himself in favor of the spanish prince, one reason for his preference being that charles was more directly interested in checking the advance of the turks, who, under soleiman the magnificent, threatened, at the time, to overrun the whole of eastern europe. charles i of spain was elected, and thus became charles v, king of the romans and emperor of germany--that is, the most powerful monarch of his time, before he had reached the age of manhood. his success, added to other political differences and ambitions, was not long in provoking a war with france, which, with short intervals, lasted the lifetime of the two princes. * * * * * spain was most vulnerable in her ultramarine possessions. they offered tempting prizes to the unscrupulous, adventurous spirits of the period, and the merchants on the coast of normandy asked and obtained permission to equip privateers to harass spanish commerce and attack the unprotected settlements. san juan was one of the first to suffer. an official report dated september , , informs us that "on the day of the apostle saint john a french caravel and a tender bore down on the port of cubágua and attempted to land artillery from the ship with the help of indians brought from margarita, five leagues distant. on the th of august they took the town of san german, plundered and burned it; they also destroyed two caravels that were there...." french privateers were sighted off the coast continually, but it would seem that the island, with its reputation for poverty, its two settlements leagues apart, and scanty population, offered too little chance for booty, so that no other landing is recorded till , when a privateer was seen chasing a caravel on her way to san german. the caravel ran ashore at a point two leagues from the capital and the crew escaped into the woods. the frenchmen looted the vessel and then proceeded to guadianilla, where they landed men, of them arquebusiers. they burned the town, robbed the church and dominican convent; but the people, after placing their families in security, returned, and under favor of a shower of rain, which made the arquebuses useless, fell upon them, killed and took prisoners, in exchange for whom the stolen church property was restored. the people had only killed. the attack was duly reported to the sovereign, who ordered the construction of a fort, and appointed juan de castellanos, the treasurer, its commander (october , ). the treasurer's reply is characteristic: "the fort which i have been ordered to make in the town of san german, of which i am to be the commander, shall be made as well as we may, though there is great want of money ... and of carts, negroes, etc. it will be necessary to send masons from sevilla, as there is only here, also tools and negroes.... "forts for this island are well enough, but it would be better to favor the population, lending money or ceding the revenues for a few years, to construct sugar-mills...." on june th of the same year the treasurer wrote again announcing that work on the san german fort had commenced, for which purpose he had bought some negroes and hired others at _two and a half pesos per month_. but on february , , the crown officers, including castellanos, reported that _the emperor's order to suspend work on the fort of san german had been obeyed_. in february, , the bishop wrote to the emperor: "the people of san german, for fear of the french privateers, have taken their families and property into the woods. if there were a fort they would not be so timid nor would the place be so depopulated." as late as september, , he reported: "i came here from la española in the beginning of the year to visit my diocese. i disembarked in san german with an order from the audiencia to convoke the inhabitants, and found that there were a few over , who lived half a league from the port for fear of the privateers. they don't abandon the important place, but there ought to be a fort." but the prelate pleaded in vain. charles v, occupied in opposing the french king's five armies, could not be expected to give much attention to the affairs of an insignificant island in a remote corner of his vast dominions. puerto rico was left to take care of itself, and san german's last hour struck on palm sunday, , when french ships entered the port of guadianilla, landed a detachment of men who penetrated a league inland, plundering and destroying whatever they could. from that day san german, the settlement founded by miguel del toro in , disappeared from the face of the land. the capital remained. no doubt it owed its preservation from french attacks to the presence of a battery and some pieces of artillery which, as a result of reiterated petitions, had been provided. the population also was more numerous. in there were houses, some of them of stone. the cathedral was completed, and a dominican convent was in course of construction with friars waiting to occupy it. thus, one by one, all the original settlements disappeared. guánica, sotomayor, daguáo, loiza, had been swept away by the indians. san german fell the victim of the spanish monarch's war with his neighbor. the only remaining settlement, the capital, was soon to be on the point of being sacrificed in the same way. the existence of the island seemed to be half-forgotten, its connection with the metropolis half-severed, for the crown officers wrote in that _no ship from the peninsula had entered its ports for two years_. "negroes and indians," says abbad, "seeing the small number of spaniards and their misery, escaped to the mountains of luquillo and añasco, whence they descended only to rob their masters." footnotes: [footnote : castilla and aragón, navarro, valencia, cataluña, mallorca, sicily, and naples.] [footnote : hista. general de españa por don modesto lafuente. barcelona, .] chapter xv sedeÑo--changes in the system of government - a slight improvement in the gloomy situation of the people of san juan took place when, driven by necessity, they began to dedicate themselves to agriculture. at this time, too ( ), juan castellanos, the island's attorney at the court, returned with his own family and colonists. yet scarcely had they had time to settle when they were invited to remigrate by one of ponce's old companions. this was sedeño, a perfect type of the spanish adventurer of the sixteenth century--restless, ambitious, unscrupulous. the king had made him "contador" (comptroller) of san juan in and perpetual "regidor" (alderman) in . in we find him in prison under accusation of having brought a woman and child from a convent in sevilla. he broke out of the prison and escaped in a ship. in he was in prison again for debt to the government. on this occasion the judge auditor wrote to the emperor: " ... it is said of the comptroller that he has put his hands deep into your majesty's treasure. he is the one who causes most strife and unrest in the island, ... everybody says that it would be well if he were removed." in villasante accused him of malversation of public funds. in he appears as governor of trinidad, accused of capturing natives of the neighboring continent, branding them and selling them as slaves. in , reinstated in his post as comptroller, he leaves alonzo de la fuente as his deputy and goes on an expedition to conquer trinidad. in he complains to the emperor that the authorities in san juan have not assisted him in his enterprise, and in the following year the governor and crown officers address a complaint against him to the empress, saying: "sedeño presented a schedule authorizing him to bring men from the canary islands to make war with fire and sword on the caribs of trinidad, and permitting him, or any other person authorized by him, to fit out an expedition for the same purpose here. "under this pretext he has collected people to go to the conquest of meta. we wrote to the audiencia in la española, and an order came that he should not go beyond the limits of his government, but he continues his preparations and has already horses and men on the continent, and is now going with some men more and another horses. he takes no notice of your majesty's commands, collects people from all parts without a license, and causes grave injury to the island, because since the rage for going to peru began the population is very scarce and we can not remedy the evil...." this restless adventurer died of fever on the continent in . sedeño's emigration schemes deprived the island of many of its best settlers. the wish to abandon it was universal. lando's drastic measures to prevent it roused the people's anger, and they clamored for his removal. the audiencia sent juan blasquez as judge auditor, and vasco de tiedra was appointed lando's successor in . but in the following year a radical change was made in the system of government. the quarrels, the jealousies, and mutual accusations between the colonists and the government officials that kept the island in a continual ferment, were the natural consequence of the prerogatives exercised by diego columbus, which permitted him to fill all lucrative positions in the island with his own favorites, often without any regard to their aptitude. the incessant communications to the emperor, and even to the empress, on every subject more or less connected with the public service, but dictated mostly by considerations of self-interest, coming, as they did, from the smallest and poorest and least important of his majesty's possessions, must have been a source of great annoyance to the imperial ministers, consequently they resolved to remove the cause. the admiral was deprived of the prerogative of appointing governors, and henceforth the alcaldes (mayors) and "chief alguaciles" (high constables), to be elected from among the colonists by a body of eight aldermen (regidores), were to exercise the governmental functions for one year at a time, and could not be reelected till two years after the first nomination. the wisdom of this innovation was not generally acknowledged. the crown officers wrote: " ... all are not agreed on the point whether the governor should or should not be elected among the residents of the island. for the country's good he should, no doubt, be a resident." alonzo la fuente was of a different opinion. he wrote in november, : "it has been a great boon to take the appointment of governors out of the admiral's hands. as a rule, some neighbor or friend was made supreme judge, and he usually proceeded with but little regard for the island's welfare. all the rest were servants and employees of the admiral, which caused me much uneasiness, seeing the results. appoint a governor, but a man from abroad, not a resident." in the following year he wrote regarding the elective system just introduced: " ... if the alcaldes must take cognizance of everything, this will become a place of confusion and disorder. a few will lord it over all the rest, and the alcaldes themselves will but be their creatures." the new system of government was unsatisfactory. castro and castellanos asked for the appointment of a supreme judge in march, , because an appeal to the authorities in la española was made against every decision of the alcalde. alderman la fuente and martel confirmed this in december, . they wrote: " ... there is great want of a supreme judge. more than fifteen homicides have been committed in less than eight years, and only one of the delinquents has been punished ..." in january, , the city officers sent a deputy to lay their grievances before the emperor, not daring to write them "for their lives," and in february the island's attorney, alonzo molina, stated the causes of the failure of the elective system to be the ignorance of the laws of those in authority and the reduced number of electors. "it is necessary," he said, "to name a mayor or governor who is a man of education and conscience, _not a resident_, because the judges have their 'compadres.'[ ] the governor must be a man of whom they stand in fear, and if some one of this class is not sent soon, he will find few to govern, for the majority intend to abandon the island." a law passed, it appears, at the petition of a single individual, in , increased the confusion and discord still more. this law made the pastures of the island, as well as the woods and waters, public property. the woods and waters had been considered such from the beginning, but the pastures, included in the concessions of lands made at different times by the crown, were private property. the result of this law was aggression on the part of the landless and resistance on the part of the proprietors, with the consequent scenes of violence and civil strife. representations against the law were made by the ecclesiastical chapter, by the city attorney, and by the three crown officers in february, ; but the regidores, on the other hand, insisted on the compliance with the royal mandate, and reported that when the law was promulgated, all the possessors of cattle-ranges opposed it, and four of their body who voted for compliance with the law were threatened to be stoned to death and have their eyes pulled out. "we asked to have the circumstance testified to by a notary, and it was refused. we wanted to write to your majesty, and to prevent any one conveying our letters, they bought the whole cargo of the only ship in port, and did the same with another ship that came in afterward...." on the d of june following they wrote again: " ... an alcalde, two aldermen, and ten or twelve wealthy cattle-owners wanted to kill us. we had to lock ourselves up in our houses.... the people here are so insubordinate that if your majesty does not send some one to chastise them and protect his servants, there will soon be no island of san juan." the system of electing annual governors among the residents was abolished in , and the crown resumed its prerogative with the appointment of gerónimo lebrón, of la española, as governor for one year. he died fifteen days after his arrival, and the audiencia named licentiate cervantes de loayza in his place, who was compelled to imprison some of the ringleaders in the party of opposition against the pasture laws. this governor wrote to the emperor in july, : " ... i came to this island with my wife and children to serve your majesty, but i found it a prey to incredible violences...." cervantes was well received at first, and the city officials asked the emperor to prorogue his term of office, but as bishop bastidas said of the islanders, it was not in their nature to be long satisfied with any governor, and the next year they clamored for his "residencia." he rendered his accounts and came out without blame or censure. it appears that about the year the system of electing alcaldes as governors was resumed, for in that year bishop bastidas thanks the emperor, and tells him "the alcaldes were sufficient, considering the small population." but in we again find a governor appointed by the crown for five years, a doctor louis vallejo, from whose communications describing the conditions of the island we extract the following: "it is a pity to see how the island has been ruined by the attacks of frenchmen and caribs. the few people that remain in san german live in the worst possible places, in swamps surrounded by rough mountains, a league from the port...." and on the th of december, : " ... the island was in a languishing condition because the mines gave out, but now, with the sugar industry, it is comparatively prosperous. the people beg your majesty's protection." however, in october, , we find bishop alonzo la fuente and others addressing king philip ii, and telling him that "the land is in great distress, ... traffic has ceased for fear of the corsairs...." the same complaints continue during and . then vallejo is subjected to "residencia" by the new governor, estevéz, who, after a few months' office, is "residentiated" in his turn by caráza, who had been governor in . after this the chronicles are so scanty that not even the diligent researches of friar abbad's commentator enabled him to give any reliable information regarding the government of the island. it remained the almost defenseless point of attack for the nations with which spain was constantly at war, and this small but bright pearl in her colonial crown was preserved only by fortunate circumstances on the one hand and the loyalty of the inhabitants on the other. footnotes: [footnote : protectors or protégés--literally, "godfathers."] chapter xvi defenseless condition of the island--construction of fortifications and circumvallation of san juan - san german disappeared for want of means of defense, and if the french privateers of the time had been aware that the forts in san juan were without guns or ammunition it is probable that this island would have become a french possession. the defenses of the island were constructed by the home authorities in a very dilatory manner. ponce's house in capárra had been fortified in a way so ineffective that las casas said of it that the indians might knock it down butting their heads against it. this so-called fort soon fell in ruins after the transfer of the capital to its present site. there is no information of what became of the six "espingardas" (small ordnance or hand-guns) with which it had been armed at king ferdinand's expense. they had probably been transferred to san juan, where, very likely, they did good service intimidating the caribs. in an english ship came prowling about san juan bay, la mona, and la española, and this warning to the spanish authorities was disregarded, notwithstanding blas de villasante's urgent request for artillery and ammunition. [illustration: inner harbor, san juan.] after the burning of san german by a french privateer in august, , villasante bought five "lombardas" (another kind of small ordnance) for the defense of san juan. in and both la gama, the acting governor, and the city officers represented to the emperor the necessity of constructing fortifications, "_because the island's defenseless condition caused the people to emigrate_." it appears that the construction of the first fort commenced about , for in that year the audiencia in la española disposed of some funds for the purpose, and governor lando suggested the following year that if the fort were made of stone "it would be eternal." the suggestion was acted upon and a tax levied on the people to defray the expense. this fort must have been concluded about the year , for in that same year the ecclesiastical and the city authorities were contending for the grant of the slaves, carts, and oxen that had been employed, the former wanting them for the construction of a church, the latter for making roads and bridges. this "fortaleza" is the same edifice which, after many changes, was at last, and is still, used as a gubernatorial residence, the latest reconstruction being effected in .[ ] as a fort, gonzalez fernandez de oviedo denounced it as a piece of useless work which, "if it had been constructed by blind men could not have been located in a worse place," and in harmony with his advice a battery was constructed on the rocky promontory called "the morro." san juan had now a fort ( ) but no guns. the crown officers, reporting an attack on guayáma by a french privateer in , again clamor for artillery. treasurer castellanos writes in march and june of the same year: "the artillery for this fort has not yet arrived. how are we to defend it?" treasurer salinas writes in : "the french have taken several ships. it would have been a great boon if your majesty had ordered captain mindirichága to come here with his four ships to defend this island and la española. he would have found frenchmen in la mona, where they prepare for their expeditions and lay in wait. they declare their intention to take this island, and it will be difficult for us to defend it without artillery or other arms. if there is anything in the fort it is useless, nor is the fort itself of any account. it is merely a lodging-house. the bastion on the morro, if well constructed, could defend the entrance to the harbor with pieces. we have horsemen here with lances and shields, but no arquebusiers or pikemen. send us artillery and ammunition." the demand for arms and ammunition continued in this way till , when acting governor caráza reported that pieces of bronze ordnance had been planted on the morro. the existing fortifications of san juan have all been added and extended at different periods. father torres vargas, in his chronicles of san juan, says that the castle grounds of san felipe del morro were laid out in . the construction cost , , ducats.[ ] the boquerón, or santiago fort, the fort of the cañuelo, and the extensions of the morro were constructed during the administration of gabriel royas ( to ). governor henriquez began the circumvallation of the city in , and his successor, sarmiento, concluded it between the years and . fort san cristobal was begun in the eighteenth century and completed in . some fortifications of less importance were added in the nineteenth century. when caráza reported, in , that the first steps in the fortification of the capital had been taken, the west indian seas swarmed with french privateers, and their depredations on spanish commerce and ill-protected possessions continued till philip ii signed the treaty of peace at vervins in . but before that, war with england had been declared, and a more formidable enemy than the french was soon to appear before the capital of this much-afflicted island. footnotes: [footnote : the inscription on the upper front wall of the building is: "during the reign of her majesty, doña isabel ii, the count of mirasol being captain-general, santos cortijo, colonel of engineers, reconstructed this royal fort in ."] [footnote : ducat, a coin struck by a duke, worth, in silver, about $ . , in gold, twice as much. it was also a nominal money worth eleven pesetas and one maravedi.] chapter xvii drake's attack on san juan of all the english freebooters that preyed upon spain and her colonies from the commencement of the war in to the signing of peace in , francis drake was the greatest scourge and the most feared. drake early distinguished himself among the fraternity of sea-rovers by the boldness of his enterprises and the intensity of his hatred of the spaniards. when still a young man, in -' , he was captain of a small ship, the judith, one of a fleet of slavers running between the coast of africa and the west indies, under the command of john hawkyns, another famous freebooter. in the harbor of san juan de ulúa the spaniards took the fleet by stratagem; the judith and the minion, with hawkyns on board, being the only vessels that escaped. young drake's experiences on that occasion fixed the character of his relations to the dons forever afterward. he vowed that they should pay for all he had suffered and all he had lost. at that time the spaniards were ostensibly still friends with england. to drake they were then and always treacherous and forsworn enemies. in he made a voyage to the west indies in a bark of forty tons with a private crew. in the chagres river, on the coast of nombre de dios, there happened to be sundry barks transporting velvets and taffetas to the value of , ducats, besides gold and silver. they were all taken. two years later he made a most daring attempt to take the town of nombre de dios, and would probably have succeeded had he not been wounded. he fainted from loss of blood. his men carried him back on board and suspended the attack. on his recovery he met with complete success, and returned to plymouth in with a large amount of treasure openly torn from a nation with which england was at peace, arriving at the very time that philip's ambassador to queen elizabeth was negotiating a treaty of peace. drake had no letters of marque, and consequently was guilty of piracy in the eyes of the law, the penalty for which was hanging. the spaniards were naturally very angry, and clamored for restitution or compensation and drake's punishment, but the queen, who shared the pirate's hatred of the spaniards, sent him timely advice to keep out of the way. in he returned from another voyage in the west indies, just when a body of so-called papal volunteers had landed in ireland. they had been brought by a spanish officer in spanish ships, and the queen, pending a satisfactory explanation, refused to receive mendoza, the spanish ambassador, and hear his complaints of drake's piracies. when his ships had been brought round in the thames, she visited him on board and conferred on him the honor of knighthood. from this time onward he became a servant of the crown.[ ] it was this redoubtable sea-rover who, according to advices received early in , was preparing an expedition in england for the purpose of wresting her west indian possessions from spain. the expedition was brought to naught, through the disagreements between drake and hawkyns, who both commanded it, by administrative blunders and vexatious delays in england. the spaniards were everywhere forewarned and goaded to action by the terror of drake's name. notwithstanding this, the island's fate, seeing its defenseless condition, would, no doubt, have been sealed at that time but for a most fortunate occurrence which brought to its shores the forces that enabled it to repulse the attack. acosta's annotations on abbad's history contains the following details of the events in san juan at the time: "general sancho pardo y osorio sailed from havana march , , in the flagship of the spanish west indian fleet, to convoy some merchantmen and convey , , pesos in gold and silver, the greater part the property of his majesty the king. the flagship carried men. "on the th, when in the bermuda channel, a storm separated the convoy from the other ships, sent her mainmast overboard, broke her rudder, and the ship sprang a leak. in this condition, after a consultation among the officers, it was decided to repair the damage as well as possible and steer for puerto rico, which they reached on the th of april. the treasure was placed in security in the fort and messengers despatched to the king to learn his majesty's commands. "a few days later official advice of the preparations in england was brought to the island in a despatch-boat. governor juarez, general sancho, and the commander of the local infantry held a council, in which it was resolved to land the artillery from the dismasted ship and sink her and another vessel in the channel at the entrance to the harbor, while defenses should be constructed at every point where an enemy could attempt a landing. the plan was carried out under the direction of general sancho, who had ample time, as no enemy appeared during the next seven months. "on the th of november spanish frigates arrived under the command of pedro tello de gúzman, with orders from the king to embark the treasure forthwith and take it to spain; but tello, on his way hither, had fallen in off guadeloupe with two english small craft, had had a fight with one of them, sank it, and while pursuing the other had come suddenly in sight of the whole fleet, which made him turn about and make his way to puerto rico before the english should cut him off. from the prisoners taken from the sunken vessel he had learned that the english fleet consisted of line-of-battle ships of to tons each, and about others of different sizes, with launches for landing troops, , infantry, , mariners, all well armed and provided with artillery, bound direct for puerto rico under the command of sir francis drake and john hawkyns. "tello's frigates made a very important addition to the island's defenses. part of his men were distributed among the land forces, and his ships anchored in the bay, just behind the two sunken ships. "all was now ready for a determined resistance. general sancho had charge of the shore defenses, admiral gonzalo mendez de cauzo commanded the forts, tello, with his frigates and men, defended the harbor. the bishop promised to say a mass and preach a sermon every day, and placed a priest at every post to give spiritual aid where necessary. lastly, despatch-boats were sent to la española and to cuba to inform the authorities there of the coming danger. "the defensive forces consisted of men distributed at different points on shore with pieces of ordnance of small caliber. in the forts there were pieces, mostly bronze ordnance, with the respective contingent of men. on board of tello's frigates there were men. "general sancho, after an inspection of the defenses, assured the governor that the island was safe if the men would but fight. "at daybreak on the d of november the english fleet hove in sight. the call to arms was sounded, and everybody," says the chronicler, "ran joyfully to his post." a caravel with some launches showing white flags came on ahead, sounding, but on passing the boquerón were saluted with a cannon shot, whereupon they withdrew replacing the white flags by red ones. the whole fleet now came to anchor in front of the "caleta del cabron" (goat's creek), much to the surprise of the islanders, who had no idea that there was anchoring ground at that point; but, being within range of the pieces of cannon on the morrillo and of the pieces planted at the mouth of the creek, they were fired upon, with the result, as became known afterward, of considerable damage to the flagship and the death of or persons, among them hawkyns, drake's second in command. this unexpectedly warm reception made it clear to the english admiral that the islanders had been forewarned and were not so defenseless as they had been reported. some launches were sent to take soundings in the vicinity of goat island, and at in the afternoon the fleet lifted anchor and stood out to sea. next morning at o'clock it returned and took up a position under the shelter of the said island, out of range of the artillery on the forts. more soundings were taken during the day in the direction of bayamón, as far as the cañuelo. that night, about o'clock, launches, each containing from to men, advanced under cover of the darkness and attacked tello's frigates. the flames of of the ships, which the english succeeded in firing, soon lit up the bay and enabled the artillery of the forts to play with effect among the crowded launches. the spaniards on board tello's ships succeeded in putting out the fire on board of the ships, the third one was destroyed. after an hour's hard fighting and the loss by the english, as estimated by the spanish chronicler, of or launches and of about men, they withdrew. the spanish loss that night was killed and some wounded. the next day the english fleet stood out to sea again, keeping to windward of the harbor, which made tello suspect that they intended to return under full sail when the wind sprang up and force their way into the harbor. to prevent this, more ships and a frigate were sunk across the entrance with all they had on board, there being no time to unload them. as expected, the fleet came down at o'clock in the afternoon, but did not try to force an entrance. it quietly took up the same position between the morro and goat island, which it had occupied the day before, and this made the spaniards think that another night attack on the remaining frigates was impending. after dark the frigates were removed to a place of safety within the bay. the night passed without an alarm. the next day the english launches were busy all day sounding the bay as far as the boquerón, taking care to keep out of range of the artillery on shore. night came on and when next morning the sun lit up the western world there was not an enemy visible. drake had found the island too well prepared and deemed it prudent to postpone the conquest. two days later news came from arecibo that the english fleet had passed that port. a messenger sent to san german returned six days later with the information that the enemy had been there four days taking in wood and water and had sailed southward on the th of december. it is said that when drake afterward learned that his abandonment of the conquest of puerto rico had made him miss the chance of adding , , pesos in gold and silver to the maiden queen's exchequer, he pulled his beard with vexation. footnotes: [footnote : drake and his successors. the edinburgh review, july, .] chapter xviii occupation and evacuation of san juan by lord george cumberland--condition of the island at the end of the sixteenth century puerto rico and his majesty's treasure were now safe. when there was no longer any fear of the enemy's return, haste was made to reembark the money and get rid of general sancho and tello and their men who were fast consuming the island's scanty resources. two years after drake's ineffectual attack on the island another english fleet, with a large body of troops under the orders of lord george cumberland, came to puerto rico. a landing was effected at cangrejos (the present santurce). the bridge leading to the capital was not then fortified, but its passage was gallantly disputed by governor antonio mosquera, an old soldier of the war in flanders. the english were far superior in numbers and armament, and mosquera had to fall back. captain serralta, the brothers john and simon sanabria, and other natives of the island, greatly distinguished themselves in this action. the english occupied the capital and the forts without much more opposition. an epidemic of dysentery and yellow fever carried off englishmen in less than three months and bid fair to exterminate the whole invading force, so that, to save his troops, the english commander was obliged to evacuate the island, which he did on the d of november. he carried with him pieces of artillery of all sizes which he found in the fortifications. the city itself he left unhurt, except that he took the church-bells and organ and carried off an artistically sculptured marble window in one of the houses which had taken his fancy. mr. brau mentions some documents in the indian archives of spain, from which it appears that another invasion of puerto rico took place a year after cumberland's departure. on that occasion the governor and the garrison were carried off as prisoners, but as there was a cruel epidemic still raging in the island at the time the english did not stay. the death of philip ii (september , ) and of his inveterate enemy, queen elizabeth (march , ), brought the war with england to a close. the ambassador of philip iii in london negotiated a treaty of peace with james i, which was signed and ratified in the early part of . so ended the sixteenth century in boriquén. if the dictum of las casas, that the island at the century's beginning was "as populous as a beehive and as lovely as an orchard," was but a rhetorical figure, there is no gainsaying the fact that at the time of ponce's landing it was thickly peopled, not only that part occupied by the spaniards but _the whole island_, with a comparatively innocent, simple, and peaceably disposed native race. the end of the century saw them no more. the erstwhile garden was an extensive jungle. the island's history during these hundred years was condensed into the one word "strife." all that the efforts of the king and his governors had been able to make of it was a penal settlement, a presidio with a population of about inhabitants, white, black, and mongrel. the littoral was an extensive hog-and cattle-ranch, with here and there a patch of sugar-cane; there was no commerce.[ ] there were no roads. the people, morally, mentally, and materially poor, were steeped in ignorance and vice. education there was none. the very few who aspired to know, went to la española to obtain an education. the few spiritual wants of the people were supplied by monks, many of them as ignorant and bigoted as themselves. war and pestilence and tempest had united to wipe the island from the face of the earth, and the very name of "rich port," given to it without cause or reason, must have sounded in the ears of the inhabitants as a bitter sarcasm on their wretched condition. footnotes: [footnote : a precarious traffic in hides and ginger did not deserve the name of commerce.] chapter xix attack on san juan by the hollanders under bowdoin holland emancipated itself from spanish domination in and assumed the title of "the united provinces of netherland." after nearly half a century of an unequal struggle with the most powerful kingdom in europe, the people's faith in final success was unbounded, while spain was growing weary of the apparently interminable war. at this juncture, proposals for a suspension of hostilities were willingly entertained by both nations, and after protracted negotiations, a truce of twelve years was signed in bergen-op-zoom, april , . in it the absolute independence of the united provinces was recognized. this gave the spanish colonies a welcome respite from the ravages of privateers till , the first year of the reign of king philip iv, when hostilities immediately recommenced. france and england both came to the assistance of the provinces with money for the raising of troops, and the wealthy merchants of holland, following the example of the french merchants in the former century, fitted out fleets of privateers to prey upon the commerce and colonies of spain and portugal. the first exploits of these privateers were the invasion of brazil and the sacking of san salvador, of lima and callao ( ). puerto rico was just beginning to recover from the prostration in which the last invasion had left it, when on the morning of the th of september, , the guard on san felipe del morro announced ships to windward of the port. juan de haro, the governor, who had assumed the command only a few months before, mounted to an outlook to observe them, and was informed that more ships could be seen some distance down the coast. he sent out horsemen, and they returned about o'clock at night with the news that they had counted ships in all. alarm-bells were now rung and some cannon fired from the forts to call the inhabitants together. they were directed to the plaza, where arms and ammunition were distributed. during the night the whole city was astir preparing for events, under the direction of the governor. next morning the whole fleet was a short distance to windward. lest a landing should be attempted at the boquerón or at goat's creek, the two most likely places, the governor ordered a cannon to be planted at each and trenches to be dug. in the meantime, the people, who had promptly answered the call to arms, and the garrison were formed into companies on the plaza and received orders to occupy the forts, marching first along the shore, where the enemy could see them, so as to make a great show of numbers. the artillery in the fort was in bad condition. the gun-carriages were old and rotten. some of the pieces had been loaded four years before and were dismounted at the first firing. one of them burst on the sixth or seventh day, killing the gunners and severely wounding the governor, who personally superintended the defense. in the afternoon of the day of their arrival the hollanders came down under full sail "with as much confidence," says the chronicler, "as if they were entering a port in their own country." that night the fort was provisioned as well as the scanty resources of the island permitted. the defenders numbered , and the food supply collected would not enable them to stand a long siege. the supply consisted of loads of casabe bread, bushels of maize, jars or jugs of olive oil, barrels of biscuit, island cheeses, cask of flour, pitchers of wine, fowls, and small boxes of preserved fruit (membrillo). fortunately during the night head of cattle and horses were driven in from the surrounding country. from the th to the th the enemy busied himself landing troops, digging trenches, and planting pieces of cannon on a height called "the calvary." then he began firing at the fort, which replied, doing considerable damage. at o'clock on the morning of the th, a drummer under a flag of truce presented himself before the castle with a letter addressed to the governor. it was couched in the following terms: "señor governor don juan faro, you must be well aware of the reasons of our coming so near and of our intentions. therefore, i, bowdoin hendrick, general of these forces, in the name of the states general and of his highness the prince of orange, do hereby demand that you deliver this castle and garrison into our hands, which doing we will not fail to come to terms with you. and if not, i give you notice, that from this day forward we will spare neither old nor young, woman nor child; and to this we wait your answer in a few words. "bowdoin hendrick." to which epistle the governor replied: "i have seen your paper, and am surprised that you should ask such a thing of me, seeing that i have served thirteen years in flanders, where i have learned to value your boastings and know what sieges are. on the contrary, if you will deliver the ships in which you have come to me, i will let you have one to return with. and these are the orders of my king and master, and none other, with which i have answered your paper, in the castle of san felipe del morro, the th of september, . "juan de haro." the next day a heavy cannonading commenced, the hollanders firing over shots at the castle with small effect. the same day a spanish ship arrived with wine and provisions, but seeing the danger it ran of being taken, did not enter the port, but steered to la española, to the great disappointment of the people in the fort. on the th of october the governor ordered a sortie of men in three parties. on the th captain juan de amezquita led another sortie, and so between sorties, surprises, night attacks, and mutual cannonadings things continued till the st of october. on that day bowdoin sent another letter announcing his intention of burning the city if no understanding was arrived at. to which letter the governor replied that there was building material enough in the island to construct another city, and that he wished the whole army of holland might be here to witness spanish bravery. bowdoin carried his threat into effect, and the next day over a hundred houses were burned. bishop balbueno's palace and library and the city archives were also destroyed. to put a stop to this wanton destruction captains amezquita and botello led a sortie of men. they attacked the enemy in front and rear with such _élan_ that they drove them from their trenches and into the water in their haste to reach their launches. this, and other remarkable exploits, related by the native chroniclers, so discouraged the hollanders that they abandoned the siege on the d of november, leaving behind them one of their largest ships, stranded, and over dead. the fleet repaired to la aguáda to refit. bowdoin, who, apparently, was a better letter writer than general, sent a third missive to the governor, asking permission to purchase victuals, which was, of course, flatly refused. the king duly recompensed the brave defenders. the governor was made chevalier of the order of santiago and received a money grant of , ducats. captain amezquita received , ducats, and was later appointed governor of cuba. captain botello also received , ducats, and others who had distinguished themselves received corresponding rewards. puerto rico's successful resistance to this invasion encouraged the belief that, provided the mother country should furnish the necessary means of defense, the island would end by commanding the respect of its enemies and be left unmolested. but the mother country's wars with england, france, and holland absorbed all its attention in europe and consumed all its resources. the colonies remained dependent for their defense on their own efforts, while privateers, freebooters, and pirates of the three nations at war with spain settled like swarms of hornets in every available island in the west indies. chapter xx decline of spain's power--buccaneers and filibusters - the power of spain received its death-blow during the course of the war with england. the destruction of the armada and of the fleets subsequently equipped by philip ii for the invasion of ireland were calamities from which spain never recovered. the wars with almost every european nation in turn, which raged during the reigns of the third and fourth philips, swallowed up all the blood-stained treasure that the colonial governors could wring from the natives of the new world. the flower of the german and italian legions had left their bones in the marshes of holland, and spain, the proudest nation in europe, had been humiliated to the point of treating for peace, on an equal footing, with a handful of rebels and recognizing their independence. france had four armies in the field against her ( ). a fleet equipped with great sacrifice and difficulty was destroyed by the hollanders in the waters of brazil ( ). van tromp annihilated another in the english channel, consisting of ships, with , of spain's best troops on board. cataluña was in open revolt ( ). the italian provinces followed ( ). portugal fought and achieved her emancipation from spanish rule. the treasury was empty, the people starving. yet, while all these calamities were befalling the land, the king and his court, under the guidance of an inept minister (the duke of olivares), were wasting the country's resources in rounds of frivolous and immoral pleasures, in dances, theatrical representations, and bull-fights. the court was corrupt; vice and crime were rampant in the streets of madrid.[ ] under such a régime the colonists were naturally left to take care of themselves, and this, coupled with the policy of excluding them from all foreign commerce, justified spain's enemies in seeking to wrest from her the possessions from which she drew the revenues that enabled her to make war on them. englishmen, frenchmen, and hollanders made of the antilles their trysting-ground for the purpose of preying upon the common enemy. these were the buccaneers and filibusters of that period, the most lawless class of men in an age of universal lawlessness, the refuse from the seaports of northern europe, as cruel miscreants as ever blackened the pages of history. the buccaneers derived their name from the carib word "boucan," a kind of gridiron on which, like the natives, they cooked their meat, hence, bou-canier. the word filibuster comes from the spanish "fee-lee-bote," english "fly-boat," a small, swift sailing-vessel with a large mainsail, which enabled the buccaneers to pursue merchantmen in the open sea and escape among the shoals and shallows of the archipelago when pursued in their turn by men-of-war. they recognized no authority, no law but force. they obeyed a leader only when on their plundering expeditions. the spoils were equally divided, the captain's share being double that of the men. the maimed in battle received a compensation proportionate to the injury received. the captains were naturally distinguished by the qualities of character that alone could command obedience from crews who feared neither god nor man. one of the most dreaded among them was a frenchman, a native of sables d'olonne, hence called l'olonais. he had been a prisoner of the spaniards, and the treatment he received at their hands had filled his soul with such deadly hatred, that when he regained his liberty he swore a solemn oath to live henceforth for revenge alone. and he did. he never spared sex or age, and took a hellish pleasure in torturing his victims. he made several descents on the coast of this island, burned maracaibo, puerto cabello, veragua, and other places, and was killed at last by the indians of darien. sir henry morgan, a welsh aristocrat turned pirate, was another famous scourge of the spanish colonies. his inhuman treatment of the inhabitants of puerto principe, in , is a matter of history. he plundered porto bello, chagres, panamá, and extended his depredations to the coast of costa rica. he used to subject his victims to torture to make them declare where they had hidden their valuables, and many a poor wretch who had no valuables to hide was ruthlessly tortured to death. pierre legrand was another frenchman who, after committing all kinds of outrages in the west indies, passed with his robber crew to the pacific and scoured the coasts as far as california. the atrocities committed by a certain montbras, of languedoc, earned him the name of "the exterminator." * * * * * when the first buccaneers made their appearance in the antilles ( ), the windward islands were still occupied by the caribs. here they formed temporary settlements, which, by degrees, grew into permanent pirates' nests. in some of these islands they found large herds of cattle, the progeny of the first few heads introduced by the early spanish colonists, who afterward abandoned them. in a party of english and french occupied the island san cristobal. four years later puerto rico, being well garrisoned at the time, the governor, enrique henriquez, fitted out an expedition to dislodge them, in which he succeeded only to make them take up new quarters in antigua. the next year the french and english buccaneers who occupied the small island of tortuga made a descent upon the western part of la española, called haiti by the natives (mountainous land), and maintained themselves there till that part of the island was ceded to france by the treaty of ryswyk, in . spain equipped a fleet to clear the west indies from pirates in , and placed it under the command of don federico de toledo. he was met in the neighborhood of san cristobal by a numerous fleet of small craft, which had the advantage over the unwieldy spanish ships in that they could maneuver with greater rapidity and precision. there are no reliable details of the result of the engagement. abbad tells us that the spaniards were victorious, but the buccaneers continued to occupy all the islands which they had occupied before. in they took possession of curagao, aruba, and bonaíre, near the coast of venezuela, and established themselves in in san eustaquio, saba, san martin, and santa cruz. in the governor of puerto rico sought to expel them from the last-named island. he defeated them, killing many and taking others prisoners; but as soon as he returned to puerto rico the hollanders from san eustaquio and san martin reoccupied santa cruz, and he was compelled to equip another expedition to dislodge them, in which he was completely successful. this time he left a garrison, but in the same year the french commander, poincy, came with a strong force and compelled the garrison to capitulate. the island remained a french possession under the name of saint croix until it was sold to denmark, in , for $ , . another expedition set out from puerto rico in , to oust the french and hollanders from san martin. the spaniards destroyed a fort that had been constructed there, but as soon as they returned to this island the pirates reoccupied their nest. in an englishman named cook came with a sufficient force and san martin became an english possession. about the french governor of tortuga, beltrán ogeron, planned the conquest of puerto rico. he appeared off the coast with ships, but one of the hurricanes so frequent in these latitudes came to the island's rescue. the ships were stranded, and the surviving frenchmen made prisoners. among them was ogeron himself, but his men shielded him by saying that he was drowned. on the march to the capital he and his ship's surgeon managed to escape, and, after killing the owner of a fishing-smack, returned to tortuga, where he immediately commenced preparations for another invasion of puerto rico. when he came back he was so well received by the armed peasantry (jíbaros) that he was forced to reembark. from this time to several expeditions were fitted out in san juan to drive the filibusters from one or another of the islands in the neighborhood. in a fleet was equipped with the object of definitely destroying all the pirates' nests. the greater part of the garrison, all the puerto ricans most distinguished for bravery, intelligence, and experience, took part in the expedition. the fleet was accompanied by the spanish battle-ship carlos v, which carried cannon and men. of this expedition not a soul returned. it was totally destroyed by a hurricane, and the island was once more plunged in mourning, ruin, and poverty, from which it did not emerge till nearly a century later. footnotes: [footnote : in fifteen days men and women were assassinated in the capital alone, some of them persons of distinction. cánovas, decadencia de españa, libro vi.] chapter xxi british attacks on puerto rico--siege of san juan by sir ralph abercrombie - the _entente cordiale_ which had existed between england under charles i and spain under philip iv ceased with the tragic death of the first-named monarch.[ ] immediately after cromwell's elevation both france and spain made overtures for an alliance with england. but the protector well knew that in the event of war with either power, spain's colonies and treasure-laden galleons offered a better chance for obtaining booty than the poor possessions of france. he favored an alliance with louis xiv, and ended by signing a treaty with him in . the first result of the hostilities that ensued was the capture by the english admirals blake and stayner of several richly laden galleons. from that time to the end of the eighteenth century england's attempts to secure the two most-coveted antilles (cuba and puerto rico) continued with short intervals of peace. in an english fleet of ships, with a landing force under the command of the earl of estren, appeared before san juan and demanded its surrender. before a formal attack could be made a furious hurricane wrecked the fleet on bird island, and everybody on board perished excepting a few soldiers and marines, who escaped a watery grave only to be made prisoners.[ ] it is certain, however, that on august , , an english brigantine and a sloop came to arecibo and landed men, who were forced to reembark with considerable loss, though the details of this affair, as given by friar abbad, and repeated by mr. neuman, are evidently largely drawn from imagination. in september of the following year ( ) there were landings of englishmen near loiza and in the neighborhood of san german, of which we know only that they were stoutly opposed; and we learn from an official document that there was another landing at boca chica on the south coast in , when the english were once more obliged to reembark with the loss of a pilot-boat. these incessant attacks, not on puerto rico only, but on all the other spanish possessions, and the reprisals they provoked, created such animosity between the people of both countries that hostilities had practically commenced before the declaration of war (october , ). in november admiral vernon was already in the antilles with a large fleet. he took porto bello, laid siege to cartagena, but was forced to withdraw; then he made an ineffectual attack on cuba, after which he passed round cape horn into the pacific, caused great consternation in chile, sacked and burned payta, captured the galleon covadonga with a cargo worth $ , , , and finally returned to england with a few ships only and less than half his men. the next war between the two nations was the result of the famous bourbon family compact, and lasted from to . two powerful fleets sailed from england for the antilles; the one under the orders of admiral rodney attacked the french colonies and took martinique, granada, santa lucia, san vicente, and tabago; the other under admiral pocock appeared before havana, june , , with a fleet of line-of-battle ships, transports, and , landing troops under the command of the earl of albemarle. in four days the english took "la cabaña," which prado, the governor, considered the key to the city. for some unexplained reason the spanish fleet became useless; but captain louis velasco defended the morro, and for two months and ten days he kept the english at bay, till they undermined the walls of the fort and blew them up. then prado capitulated (august ), and havana with its forts and defenses, with leagues of territory to the west of the city, with $ , , , an immense quantity of naval and military stores, line-of-battle ships and frigates, was delivered into albemarle's hands. it was puerto rico's turn next, and preparations were made for an attack, when the signing of the treaty of peace in paris (february, ) averted the imminent danger. by the stipulations of that treaty england returned havana and manila[ ] to spain in exchange for florida and some territories on the mississippi; she also returned to france part of her conquered possessions. in charles iii joined france in a war against england, the motives for which, as explained by the king's minister, were frivolous in the extreme. the real reason was england's refusal to admit spain as mediator in the differences with her north american colonies. this war lasted till , and though the antilles, as usual, became the principal scene of war, puerto rico happily escaped attack. not so during the hostilities that broke out anew in consequence of charles iv's offensive and defensive alliance with the french republic, signed in san ildefonso on the th of august, . in february, , admiral henry harvey, with ships, including transports and small craft, and from , to , troops under the orders of sir ralph abercrombie, appeared before the island of trinidad and took possession of it with but little resistance from the spanish garrison. on the th of april the whole fleet appeared before san juan. the capital was well prepared for defense. the forts, as now existing, were completed, and the city surrounded by a wall the strength of which may be estimated by the appearance of the parts still intact. on these defenses pieces of cannon of different caliber were planted, besides mortars, howitzers, and swivel guns. the garrison was reduced to about men, part of the troops having been sent to la española to quell the insurrection of the negro population led by toussaint l'ouverture. there were, besides these veteran troops, , militiamen, about , men from the towns in the interior (urbános) armed with lances and machetes, gunboats and several french privateers, the crews of which numbered about . abercrombie landed on the th at cangrejos (santurce) with , men, and demanded the surrender of the city. governor castro, in polite but energetic language, refused, and hostilities commenced. for the next thirteen days there were skirmishes and more or less serious encounters on land and sea. on the morning of the st of may the defenders of the city were preparing a general attack on the english lines, when, lo! the enemy had reembarked during the night, leaving behind his spiked guns and a considerable quantity of stores and ammunition. [illustration: fort san geronimo, at santurce, near san juan.] the people ascribed this unexpected deliverance from their foes to the miraculous intervention of the virgin, but the real reason for the raising of the siege was the strength of the fortifications. "whoever has viewed these fortifications," says colonel flinter,[ ] "must feel surprised that the english with a force of less than , men should lay siege to the place, a force not sufficient for a single line along the coast on the opposite side of the bay to prevent provisions from being sent to the garrison from the surrounding country. sir ralph's object in landing, surely, could only have been to try whether he could surprise or intimidate the scanty garrison. had he not reembarked very soon, he would have had to repent his temerity, for the shipping could not safely remain at anchor where there was no harbor and where a dangerous coast threatened destruction. his communication with the country was cut off by the armed peasantry, who rose _en masse_, and to the number of not less than , threw themselves into the fortress in less than a week after the invasion, so that the british forces would, most undoubtedly, have been obliged to surrender at discretion had the commander not effected a timely retreat." the enemy's retreat was celebrated with a solemn te deum in the cathedral, at which the governor, the municipal authorities, and all the troops assisted. the municipality addressed the king, giving due credit to the brilliant military qualities displayed during the siege by the governor and his officers. the governor was promoted to the rank of field-marshal and the officers correspondingly. to the municipality the privilege was granted to encircle the city's coat of arms with the words: "for its constancy, love, and fidelity, this city is yclept very noble and very loyal." footnotes: [footnote : he was decapitated february , .] [footnote : so says abbad. no mention is made of this episode in señor acosta's notes, nor is the name of earl estren to be found among those of the british commanders of that period.] [footnote : manila was taken in october, .] [footnote : an account of puerto rico. london, ,] chapter xxii british attacks on puerto rico _(continued)_--invasions by colombian insurgents - the raising of the siege of san juan by abercrombie did not raise at the same time the blockade of the island. communications with the metropolis were cut off, and the remittances from mexico which, under the appellation of "situados," constituted the only means of carrying on the government, were suspended.[ ] in san juan the garrison was kept on half pay, provisions were scarce, and the influx of immigrants from la española, where a bloody civil war raged at the time, increased the consumption and the price. the militia corps was disbanded to prevent serious injury to the island's agricultural interests, although english attacks on different points of the coast continued, and kept the inhabitants in a state of constant fear and alarm. in december, , an english three-decker and a frigate menaced aguadilla, but an attempt at landing was repulsed. another attempt to land was made at guayanilla with the same result, and in june, , guayanilla was again attacked. this time an english frigate sent several launches full of men ashore, but they were beaten off by the people, who, armed only with lances and machetes, pursued them into the water, "swimming or wading up to their necks," says mr. neuman.[ ] from to england's navy and english privateers pursued both french and spanish ships with dogged pertinacity. in august, , british privateers boarded and captured a french frigate in the port of salinas in this island. four spanish homeward-bound frigates fell into their hands about the same time. another english frigate captured a french privateer in what is now the port of ponce (november , ) and rescued a british craft which the privateer had captured. even the negroes of haiti armed seven privateers under british auspices and preyed upon the french and spanish merchant ships in these antilles. governor castro, during the whole of his period of service, had vainly importuned the home government for money and arms and ships to defend this island against the ceaseless attacks of the english. when he handed over the command to his successor, field-marshal toribio montes, in , the treasury was empty. he himself had long ceased to draw his salary, and the money necessary to attend to the most pressing needs for the defense was obtained by contributions from the inhabitants. while the people of puerto rico were thus giving proofs of their loyalty to spain, and sacrificing their lives and property to preserve their poverty-stricken island to the spanish crown, the other colonies, rich and important, were breaking the bonds that united them to the mother country. the example of the english colonies had long since awakened among the more enlightened class of creoles on the continent a desire for emancipation, which the events in france on the one hand, and the ill-advised, often cruel measures adopted by the spanish authorities to quench that aspiration, on the other hand, had only served to make irresistible. but puerto rico did not aspire to emancipation. it never had been a colony, there was no creole class, and the only indigenous population--the "jíbaros," the mixed descendants of indians, negroes, and spaniards--were too poor, too illiterate, too ignorant of everything concerning the outside world to look with anything but suspicion upon the invitations of the insurgents of colombia and venezuela to join them or imitate their example. they, nor the great majority of the masses whom bolivar, san martin, hidalgo, and others liberated from an oppressive yoke, cared little for the rights of man. when the colombian insurgents landed on the coast of puerto rico, to encourage and assist the people to shake off a yoke which did not gall them, they were looked upon by the natives as freebooters of another class who came to plunder them. on the th of december, , an insurgent brigantine and a sloop attempted a landing at aguadilla. they were beaten back by a spanish sergeant at the head of a detachment of twenty men, while a mr. domeneck with his servants attended to the artillery in fort san carlos, constructed during castro's administration. in february, , some insurgent ships landed fifty marines at night near point boriquén, where the lighthouse now is. they captured the fort by surprise and dismounted the guns, but the people of aguadilla replaced them on their carriages the next day and offered such energetic resistance to the landing parties that they had to retreat. another landing was effected at patillas in november, . this port was opened to commerce by royal decree december , . there were several small trading craft in the port at the time of the attack. they fell a prey to the invaders; but when they landed they were met by the armed inhabitants, and after a sharp fight, in which the colombians had men killed, they reembarked. * * * * * the beginning of the nineteenth century found spain deprived of all that beautiful island world which columbus had laid at the foot of the throne of ferdinand and isabel four centuries ago, of all but a part of the "española," since called santo domingo, and of the two antilles. before the first quarter of the century had passed all the continental colonies had broken the bonds that united them to the mother country, and before the twentieth century the last vestiges of the most extensive and the richest colonial empire ever possessed by any nation refused further allegiance, as the logical result of four centuries of political, religious, and financial myopia. footnotes: [footnote : they ceased altogether in , as a result of the revolution in mexico.] [footnote : benefactores and hombres illustres de puerto rico, p. .] chapter xxiii review of the social conditions in puerto rico and the political events in spain from to after the conquest of mexico and peru with their apparently inexhaustible mineral wealth, spain attached very little importance to the archipelago of the antilles. the largest and finest only of these islands were selected for colonization, the small and comparatively sterile ones were neglected, and fell an easy prey to pirates and privateers. puerto rico, notwithstanding its advantages of soil and situation, was considered for the space of three centuries only as a fit place of banishment (a _presidio_) for the malefactors of the mother country. agriculture did not emerge from primitive simplicity. the inhabitants led a pastoral life, cultivating food barely sufficient for their support, because there was no stimulus to exertion. they looked passively upon the riches centered in their soil, and rocked themselves to sleep in their hammocks. the commerce carried on scarcely deserved that name. the few wants of the people were supplied by a contraband trade with st. thomas and santa cruz. in the island's finances a system of fraud and peculation prevailed, and the amount of public revenue was so inadequate to meet the expenses of maintaining the garrison that the officers' and soldiers' pay was reduced to one-fourth of its just amount, and they often received only a miserable ration. his excellency alexander o'reilly, who came to the antilles on a commission from charles iv, in his report on puerto rico ( ) gives the following description of the condition of the inhabitants at that time: " ... to form an idea of how these natives have lived and still live, it is enough to say that there are only two schools in the whole island; that outside of the capital and san german few know how to read; that they count time by changes in the government, hurricanes, visits from bishops, arrivals of 'situados,' etc. they do not know what a league is. each one reckons distance according to his own speed in traveling. the principal ones among them, including those of the capital, when they are in the country go barefooted and barelegged. the whites show no reluctance at being mixed up with the colored population. in the towns (the capital included) there are few permanent inhabitants besides the curate; the others are always in the country, except sundays and feast-days, when those living near to where there is a church come to hear mass. during these feast-days they occupy houses that look like hen-coops. they consist of a couple of rooms, most of them without doors or windows, and therefore open day and night. their furniture is so scant that they can move in an instant. the country houses are of the same description. there is little distinction among the people. the only difference between them consists in the possession of a little more or less property, and, perhaps, the rank of a subaltern officer in the militia." abbad makes some suggestions for increasing the population. he proposes the distribution of the unoccupied lands among the "agregados" or idle "hangers-on" of each family; among the convicts who have served out their time and can not or will not return to the peninsula; among the freed slaves, who have purchased their own freedom or have been manumitted by their masters; and, finally, among the great number of individuals who, having deserted from ships or being left behind, wandered about from place to place or became contrabandists, pirates, or thieves. "their numbers are so small and the soil so fruitful they generally have an abundance of bananas, maize, beans, and other food. fish is abundant, and few are without a cow or two. the only furniture they have and need is a hammock and a cooking-pot. plates, spoons, jugs, and basins they make of the bark of the 'totumo,' a tree which is found in every forest. a saber or a 'machete,' as they call it, is the only agricultural implement they use. the construction of their houses does not occupy them more than a day or two." the good friar goes on to tell us that, through indolence, they have not even learned from the indians how to protect their plantations from the fierce heat of the sun and avoid consequent failure of crops in time of drought, by making the plantations in clearings in the forest, so that the surrounding walls of verdure may give moisture and shade to the plants. "nor have they learned to build their bohíos (huts) to windward of swamps or clearings to avoid the fever-laden emanations." * * * * * the stirring events in europe that marked the end of the eighteenth and the beginning of the nineteenth centuries did not find these conditions much changed, though _some_ advance had been made and was being made in spite of the prohibitive measures of the government, which were well calculated to check all advance. to prevent the spread of the ideas that had given birth to the french revolution, absolute powers were granted to the captains-general, odious restrictions were placed upon all communication with the interior, sacrifices in men and money were demanded on the plea of patriotism, and a policy of suspicion and distrust adopted toward the colonies which in the end fomented the very political aspirations it was intended to suppress. from the outbreak of the french revolution, spain was entangled in a maze of political difficulties. the natural sympathy of charles iv for the unfortunate king of france well-nigh provoked hostilities between the two nations from the very beginning. the king gave public expression to his opinion that to make war on france was as legitimate as to make war on pirates and bandits; and the directory, though it took little notice at the time, remembered it when godoy, the favorite, in his endeavors to save the lives of louis xvi and his family entered into correspondence with the french emigres. then war was declared. the war was popular. all classes contended to make the greatest sacrifices to aid the government. men and money came in abundantly, and before long three army corps crossed the pyrenees into french territory ... they had to recross the next year, followed by the victorious soldiers of the republic, who planted the tricolor on some of the principal spanish frontier fortresses. then the peace of basilia was signed, and, as one of the conditions of that peace, spain ceded to france the part she still held of santo domingo. from this period charles, in the terror inspired by the excesses of the revolution and the probable fear for his own safety, forgot that he was a bourbon and began to seek an alliance with the executioners of his family. as a result, the treaty of san ildefonso was signed ( ). spain became the enemy of england, and the first effects thereof which she experienced were the bombardment of cadiz by an english fleet, the loss of the island of trinidad, and the siege of puerto rico by abercrombie. spain also became the willing vassal, rather than the ally, of the military genius whom the french revolution had revealed, and obeyed his mandates without a murmur. in napoleon demanded a subsidy of , , francs per month as the price of spain's neutrality, but in the following year he insisted on the renewal of the alliance against england (treaty of paris, ). the total destruction of the spanish fleet at the battles of saint vincent and trafalgar was the result. godoy, who in his ambitious dreams had seen a crown and a throne somewhere in portugal to be bestowed on him by the man to whose triumphal car he had attached his king and his country, began to suspect napoleon's intentions. seeing the war-clouds gather in the north of europe, he thought that the coalition of the powers against the tyrant was the presage of his downfall, and he now hastened to send an emissary to england. the war-clouds burst, and from amid the thunder and smoke of battle at jena, eylau, and friedland, the victor's figure arose more imperious than ever. all the crowned heads of europe but one[ ] hastened to do him homage, among them charles iv of spain and the prince of asturias, his son. the next step in the grand drama that was being enacted was the occupation of spanish territory by what bonaparte was pleased to call an army of observation. this time godoy's suspicions became confirmed, and to save the royal family he counsels the king to withdraw to andalusia. ferdinand conspires to dethrone his father, the people become excited, riots take place, godoy's residence in aranguez is attacked by the mob, and the king abdicates in favor of his son. napoleon himself now lands at bayona. charles and his son hasten thither to salute europe's master, and, after declaring that his abdication was imposed on him by violence, the king resumes his crown and humbly lays it at the feet of the arbiter of the fate of kings, who stoops to pick it up only to offer it to his brother louis, who refuses it. then he places it on the head of his younger brother joseph. thus fared the crown of spain, the erstwhile proud mistress of half the world, and the degenerate successors of charles v accept an asylum in france from the hands of a soldier of fortune. but if their rulers had lost all sense of dignity, all feeling of national pride, the spanish nation remained true to itself, and when the doings at bayona became known a cry of indignation went up from the pyrenees to the mediterranean. on may , , the people of spain commenced a six years' struggle full of heroic and terrible episodes. at the end of that period the necessity of withdrawing the french troops from spain to confront the second coalition, and the assistance of the english under lord wellesley cleared the peninsula of french soldiers. after the battle of leipzig ( ) a treaty between ferdinand vii and napoleon was signed in valencia, and spain's independence was recognized and guaranteed by the allies. * * * * * from the beginning of the war many officers and privates, residents of puerto rico, enlisted to serve against the french, and large sums of money, considering the island's poverty, were subscribed among the inhabitants to aid in the defense of the mother country. ferdinand vii reentered madrid as king on march , , accompanied by a coterie of retrograde, revengeful priests, of whom his confessor, victor saez, was the leader. he made this priest minister of state, and soon proved the truth of the saying that the bourbons forget nothing, forgive nothing, and learn nothing from experience. he commenced by ignoring the regency and the cortes. these had preserved his kingdom for him while he was an exile. he refused to recognize the constitution which they had framed, and at once initiated an epoch of cruel persecution against such as had distinguished themselves by their talents, love of liberty, and progressive ideas. the public press was completely silenced, the inquisition reestablished, the convents reopened, provincial deputations and municipalities abolished, distinguished men were surprised in their beds at night and torn from the arms of their wives and children, to be conducted by soldiers to the fortress of ceuta--in short, the government was a civil dictatorship occupied in hanging the most distinguished citizens, while the military authorities busied themselves in shooting them. in the colonies the king's lackeys repeated the same outrages. puerto rico suffered like the rest, and many of the best families emigrated to the neighboring english and french possessions. the result of the royal turpitude was the revolution headed by rafael diego, seconded by general o'daly, a puerto rican by birth, who had greatly distinguished himself in the war against the french. other generals and their troops followed, and when general labisbal, sent by ferdinand to quell the insurrection, joined his comrades, the trembling tyrant was only too glad to save his throne by swearing to maintain the constitution of . o'daly's share in these events raised him to the rank of field-marshal, and the people of puerto rico elected him their deputy to cortes by a large majority ( ). the first constitutional régime in puerto rico was not abolished till december , . for the great majority of the inhabitants of the island at that time the privileges of citizenship had neither meaning nor value. they were still too profoundly ignorant, too desperately poor, to take any interest in what was passing outside of their island. cock-fighting and horse-racing occupied most of their time. schools had not increased much since o'reilly reported the existence of two in . there was an official periodical, the gazette, in which the government offered spelling-books _for sale_ to those who wished to learn to read.[ ] during the second constitutional period, puerto rico was divided by a resolution in cortes into judicial districts, and tablets with the constitutional prescriptions on them were ordered to be placed in the plazas of the towns in the interior. public spirit began to awaken, several patriotic associations were formed, among them those of "the lovers of science," "the liberals, lovers of their country," and others. but the dawn of progress was eclipsed again toward the end of , when the news of the fall of the second constitutional régime reached puerto rico a few months after the people had elected their deputies to cortes. footnotes: [footnote : the king of england.] [footnote : neuman, p. .] chapter xxiv general condition of the island from to that ferdinand should, while engaged in cruel persecution of his best subjects in the peninsula, think of dictating liberal laws for this island is an anomaly which can be explained only by its small political importance. in august, , there appeared a decree entitled "regulations for promoting the population, commerce, industry, and agriculture of puerto rico." it embraced every object, and provided for all the various incidents that could instil life and vigor into an infant colony. it held out the most flattering prospects to industrious and enterprising foreigners. it conferred the rights and privileges of spaniards on them and their children. lands were granted to them gratis, and no expenses attended the issue of titles and legal documents constituting it private property. the quantity of land allotted was in proportion to the number of slaves introduced by each new settler. the new colonists were not to be subject to taxes or export duty on their produce, or import duties on their agricultural implements. if war should be declared between spain and their native country, their persons and properties were to be respected, and if they wished to leave the island they were permitted to realize on their property and carry its value along with them, paying per cent on the surplus of the capital they had brought. they were exempted from the capitation tax or personal tribute. each slave was to pay a tax of one dollar yearly after having been ten years in the island. during the first five years the colonists had liberty to return to their former places of residence, and in this case could carry with them all that they had brought without being obliged to pay export duty. those who should die in the island without heirs might leave their property to their friends and relations in other countries. the heirs had the privilege of remaining on the same conditions as the testators, or if they preferred to take away their inheritance they might do so on paying a duty of per cent. the colonists were likewise exonerated from the payment of tithes for fifteen years, and at the end of that period they were to pay only per cent. they were equally free, for the same period, from the payment of alcabala,[ ] and at the expiration of the specified term they were to pay per cent, but if they shipped their produce to spain, nothing. the introduction of negroes into the island was to be perpetually free. direct commerce with spain and the other spanish possessions was to be free for fifteen years, and after that period puerto rico was to be placed on the same footing with the other spanish colonies. these concessions and exemptions were contained in thirty-three articles, and though, at the present day, they may seem but the abolition of unwarrantable abuses, at the time the concessions were made they were real and important and produced salutary effects. they brought foreigners possessing capital and agricultural knowledge into the country, whose habits of industry and skill in cultivation soon began to be imitated and acquired by the natives. the effects of the revolution of were felt in puerto rico as well as in spain. the concentration of civil and military power in the hands of the captains-general ceased, but party spirit began to show its disturbing influence. the press, hitherto muffled by political and ecclesiastical censors, often went to the extremes of abuse and personalities. mechanics and artisans began to neglect their workshops to listen to the harangues of politicians on the nature of governments and laws. agriculture and commerce diminished. great but ineffectual efforts were made to induce the people of puerto rico to follow the example of the colonies on the continent and proclaim their independence. this state of affairs lasted till , when, through french intervention, the constitutional government in spain was overthrown, and a second reactionary period set in even worse in its manifestations of odium to progress and liberty than the one of . the leading men of the fallen government, to escape death or imprisonment, emigrated. among them was o'daly, who, after living some time in london, settled in saint thomas, where he earned a precarious living as teacher of languages.[ ] * * * * * in the island's governor was lieutenant-general miguel de la torre, count de torrepando, who was invested by the king with viceregal powers, which he used in the first place to put a stop to the organized system of defalcation that existed. the proof of the efficacy of the timely and vigorous proceedings which he employed was the immediate increase of the public revenue, which from that day continued rapidly to advance. the troops in garrison and all persons employed in the public service were regularly paid, nearly half the arrears of back pay were gradually paid off, confidence was restored, and "more was accomplished for the island during the last seven years of governor la torre's administration (from to ), and more money arising from its revenues was expended on works of public utility, than the total amounts furnished for the same object during the preceding years." [ ] the era of prosperity which marked the period of count de torrepando's administration, and which at the same time prevailed in cuba also, was largely due to the advent in these antilles of many of the best and wealthiest citizens of venezuela, colombia, and santo domingo, who, driven from their homes by the incessant revolutions, to escape persecution settled in them, and infused a new and healthier element in the lower classes of the population. the condition of puerto rican society at this period, though much improved since , still left much to be desired. the leaders of society were the spanish civil and military officers, who, with little prospect of returning to the peninsula, married wealthy creole women and made the island their home. their descendants form the aristocracy of today. next came the merchants and shopkeepers, active and industrious catalans, gallegos, mallorquins, who seldom married but returned to the peninsula as soon as they had made sufficient money. these and the soldiers of the garrison made a transitory population. tradesmen and artisans, as a rule, were creoles. besides these, the island swarmed with adventurers of all countries, who came and went as fortune favored or frowned. there was another class of "whites" who made up no inconsiderable portion of the population--namely, the convicts who had served out their time in the island's fortress. few of them had any inducements to return to their native land. they generally succeeded in finding a refuge with some family of colored people, and it may be supposed that this ingraftment did not enhance the morality of the class with whom they mixed. the evil reputation which puerto rico had in the french and english antilles as being an island where rape, robbery, and assassination were rife was probably due to this circumstance, and not altogether undeserved, for we read[ ] that in the municipal corporation of aguadilla discussed the convenience of granting or refusing permission for the celebration of the annual feast of the conception, which had been suspended since at the request of the curate, "on account of the gambling, rapes, and robberies that accompanied it." horse-racing and cock-fighting remained the principal amusement of the populace. every house and cabin had its game-cock, every village its licensed cockpit. the houses of all classes were built of wood; the cabins of the "jíbaros" were mere bamboo hovels, where the family, males and females of all ages, slept huddled together on a platform of boards. there were no inns in country or town, except one in the capital. schools for both sexes were wanting, a few youths were sent by their parents to be educated in france or spain or the united states, and after two or three years returned with a little superficial knowledge. about this time the formation of a militia corps of , men was a step in the right direction. the people, dispersed over the face of the country, living in isolated houses, had little incentive to industry. their wants were few and easily satisfied, and their time was spent swinging in a hammock or in their favorite amusements. the obligation to serve in the militia forced them to abandon their indolent and unsocial habits and appear in the towns on sundays for drill. they were thus compelled to be better dressed, and a salutary spirit of emulation was produced. this created new wants, which had to be supplied by increased labor, their manners were softened, and if their morals did not gain, they were, at least, aroused from the listless inactivity of an almost savage life to exertion and social intercourse. such were the social conditions of the island when the death of ferdinand vii gave rise to an uninterrupted succession of political upheavals, the baneful effects of which were felt here. footnotes: [footnote : duty on the sale of produce or articles of commerce.] [footnote : in the queen regent, maria christina, gave him permission to reside in puerto rico. two years later he was reinstated in favor and was made military governor of cartagena. he died in madrid a few years later.] [footnote : colonel flinter. an account of the present state of the island of puerto rico. london, .] [footnote : brau, p. .] chapter xxv political events in spain and their influence on affairs in puerto rico - the french revolution of and the expulsion of charles x revived the hopes of the liberal party in spain, which party the bigoted absolutism of the king and his minister had vainly endeavored to exterminate. the liberals saluted that event as a promise that the nineteenth century should see the realization of their aspirations, and the exiled members of the party at once came to france to attempt an invasion of spain, counting upon the sympathy of the french government, which was denied them. the attempt only brought renewed persecution to the members at home. fortunately, the king's failing health and subsequent death transferred the reins of government to the hands of the queen, who, less absolutist than her consort, reopened the universities, which had long been closed, and proclaimed a general amnesty, thus bringing the expatriated and imprisoned liberals back to political life. after the king's death the pretensions of don carlos, his brother, lit the torch of civil war, which blazed fiercely till , when a revolution changed the government's policy and the constitution of was again declared in force. in the cortes, though nearly all the deputies were progressists, by a vote of to , deprived cuba and puerto rico of the right of representation. another carlist campaign was initiated in . in maria christina, having lost her prestige, was obliged to abdicate; then followed the regency of the duke de la victoria espartero, an insurrection in barcelona, the cortes of , an attack on madrid, and the fall of the regency, a period of seven years marked by a series of military pronunciamentos, the last of which was headed by general prim. isabel ii was now declared of age ( ), and from the date of her accession two political parties, the progressists and the moderates, under the leadership of espartero and narvaez respectively, contended for control, until, in , the insurrection of vicalváro gave the direction of affairs to o'donnell, canovas del castillo, and others, who represented the liberal unionist party. they remained in power till , when prim and gonzales bravo raised the standard of revolt once more and isabel ii was dethroned. then another provisional government was formed under a triumvirate composed of generals prim, serrano, and topete, who represented the progressist and the democratic parties (september, ). they steered the ship of state till , and, seeing the rocks of revolution still ahead, offered the spanish crown to amadeo, who, after wearing it scarce two years, found it too heavy for his brow, and abdicated. he had changed ministeriums six times in less than two years, and came to the conclusion that the modern spaniards were ungovernable. a republican form of government was now established (february , ), and it was understood by all parties that it should be a federal republic, in which each of the provinces should enjoy the largest possible amount of autonomy, subject to the authority of the central government. this proved to be the stumbling-block; the deputies could not agree on the details, passions were aroused, violent discussions took place. the carlists, seeing a favorable opportunity, plunged the basque provinces, navarra, cataluña, lower aragón, and part of castilla and valencia, into civil war. at the same time, the radicals promoted what were called "cantonnal" insurrections in cartagena, and spain seemed on the verge of social chaos and ruin. a _coup d'état_ saved the country. general pavia, the captain-general of madrid, with a body of guards forced an entrance into the halls of congress and turned the deputies out (january , ). a provisional government was once more constituted with serrano at the head. his first act was to dissolve the cortes. * * * * * the events just summarized exercised a baneful influence on the social, political, and economic conditions of this and of its more important sister antilla. royalists, carlists, liberals, reformists, unionists, moderates, and men of other political parties disputed over the direction of the nation's affairs at the point of the sword, and as each party obtained an ephemeral victory it hastened to send its partizans to govern these islands. the new governors invariably proceeded at once to undo what their predecessors had wrought before them. they succeeded each other at short intervals. from to twenty-six captains-general came to puerto rico, only six of whom left any grateful memories behind. the others looked upon the people as always watching for an opportunity to follow the example of the continental colonies. they pursued a policy of distrust, suspicion, and of uncompromising antagonism to the people's most legitimate aspirations. the reactionists, in their implacable odium of progress and liberty, considered every measure calculated to give greater freedom to the people or raise their moral and intellectual status as a crime against the mother country; hence the utter absence of the means of education, and a systematic demoralization of the masses. don angel acosta[ ] mentions the count de torrepando as an example of this. he came from venezuela to govern this island in , with the express purpose, he declared, of diverting the attention of the inhabitants from the revolutionary doings of bolivar. gambling was, and is still, one of the ruling vices of the common people. he encouraged it, established cockpits in every town and instituted the carnival games. he also established the feast of san juan, which lasted, and still lasts, the whole month of june; and when some respectable people, insulars as well as peninsulars, protested against this official propaganda of vice and idleness, he replied: "let them be--while they dance and gamble they don't conspire; ... these people must be governed by three b's--barraja, botella, and berijo." [ ] general pezuela, a man of liberal disposition and literary attainments,[ ] stigmatized the people of puerto rico as a people without faith, without thought, and without religion, and, though he afterward did something for the intellectual development of the inhabitants, in the beginning of his administration ( - ) thought it expedient not to discourage cock-fighting, but regulated it. in gambling was public and universal. in the capital there was a gambling-house in almost every street. one in the upper story of the house at the corner of san francisco and cruz streets, kept by an italian, was crowded day and night. the bank could be distinctly seen from the plaza, and the noise, the oaths, the foul language, mixing with the chink of money distinctly heard. when the governor's attention (general felix messina) was called to the scandalous exhibition, his answer was: "let them gamble, ... while they are at it they will not occupy themselves with politics, and if they get ruined it is for the benefit of others." this systematic villification of the people completely neutralized the effect of the measures adopted from time to time by progressist governors, such as the count of mirasol, norzagaray, cotoner, and pavia, and not even the revolution of september, , materially affected the disgraceful condition of affairs in the island. only those who paid twenty-five pesos direct contribution had the right of suffrage. the press remained subject to previous censorship, its principal function being to swing the incense-burner; the right of public reunion was unknown, and if known would have been impracticable; the majority of the respectable citizens lived under constant apprehension lest they should be secretly accused of disloyalty and prosecuted. rumors of conspiracies, filibustering expeditions, clandestine introductions of arms, and attempts at insurrection were the order of the day. every liberal was sure to be inscribed on the lists of "suspects," harassed and persecuted. a seditious movement among the garrison on the th of june, , gave governor marchessi a pretext for banishing about a dozen of the leading inhabitants of the capital, an arbitrary proceeding which was afterward disapproved by the government in madrid. such a situation naturally affected the economic conditions of the island. confidence there was none. credit was refused. capital emigrated with its possessors. commerce and agriculture languished. misery spread over the land. the treasury was empty, for no contributions could be collected from an impoverished population, and the island's future was compromised by loans at usurious rates. the dethronement of isabel ii, and the revolution of september, , brought a change for the better. the injustice done to the antilles by the cortes of was repaired, and the island was again called upon to elect representatives. the first meetings with that object were held in february, . the ideas and tendencies of the liberal and conservative parties among the native puerto ricans were now beginning to be defined. each party had its organ in the press[ ] and advocated its principles; the authorities stood aloof; the elections came off in an orderly manner (may, ); the conservatives carried the first and third districts, the liberals the second. it may be said that the political education of the puerto ricans commenced with the royal decree of , which authorized the minister of ultramarine affairs, canovas del castillo, to draw up a report from the information to be furnished by special commissioners to be elected in puerto rico and cuba, which information was to serve as a basis for the enactment of special laws for the government of each island. this gave the commissioners an opportunity to discuss their views on insular government with the leading public men of spain, and they profited by these discussions till , when they returned. the question of the abolition of slavery had not been brought to a decision. the insular deputies were almost equally divided in their opinions for and against, but the revolutionary committee in its manifesto declared that from september , , all children born of a slave mother should be free. in puerto rico this measure remained without effect owing to the arbitrary and reactionist character of the governor who was appointed to succeed don julian pavia, during whose just and prudent administration the so-called insurrection of lares happened. it was originally planned by an ex-commissioner to cortes, don ruiz belviz, and his friend betánces, who had incurred the resentment of governor marchessi, and who were banished in consequence. they obtained the remission of their sentences in madrid. betánces returned to santo domingo and belviz started on a tour through spanish-american republics to solicit assistance in his secessionist plan; but he died in valparaiso, and betánces was left to carry it out alone. september , , two or three hundred individuals of all classes and colors, many of them negro slaves brought along by their masters under promise of liberation, met at the coffee plantation of a mr. bruckman, an american, who provided them with knives and machetes, of which he had a large stock in readiness. thus armed they proceeded to the plantation of a mr. rosas, who saluted them as "the army of liberators," and announced himself as their general-in-chief, in token whereof he was dressed in the uniform of an american fireman, with a tri-colored scarf across his breast, a flaming sash around his waist, with sword, revolver, and cavalry boots. during the day detachments of men from different parts of the district joined the party and brought the numbers to from eight to ten hundred. the commissariat, not yet being organized, the general-in-chief generously provided an abundant meal for his men, which, washed down with copious drafts of rum, put them in excellent condition to undertake the march on lares that same evening. at midnight the peaceful inhabitants of that small town, which lies nestled among precipitous mountains in the interior, were startled from their sleep by loud yells and cries of "long live puerto rico independent! down with spain! death to the spaniards!" the alcalde and his secretary, who came out in the street to see what the noise was about, were made prisoners and placed in the stocks, where they were soon joined by a number of spaniards who lived in the town. the contents of two or three wine and provision shops (pulperias) that were plundered kept the "enthusiasm" alive. the next day the republic of boriquén was proclaimed. to give solemnity to the occasion, the curate was forced to hold a thanksgiving service and sing a te deum, after which the provisional government was installed. francisco ramirez, a small landholder, was the president. the justice of the peace was made secretary of government, his clerk became secretary of finance, another clerk was made secretary of justice, and the lessee of a cockpit secretary of state. the "alcaldia" was the executive's palace, and the queen's portrait, which hung in the room, was replaced by a white flag with the inscription: "long live free puerto rico! liberty or death! ." the declaration of independence came next. all spaniards were ordered to leave the island with their families within three days, failing which they would be considered as citizens of the new-born republic and obliged to take arms in its defense; in case of refusal they would be treated as traitors. the next important step was to form a plan of campaign. it was agreed to divide "the army" in two columns and march them the following day on the towns of pepino and camuy; but when morning came it appeared that the night air had cooled the enthusiasm of more than half the number of "liberators," and that, considering discretion the better part of valor, they had returned to their homes. however, there were about three hundred men left, and with these the "commander-in-chief" marched upon pepino. when the inhabitants became aware of the approach of their liberators they ran to shut themselves up in their houses. the column made a short halt at a "pulperia" in the outskirts of the town, to take some "refreshment," and then boldly penetrated to the plaza, where it was met by sixteen loyal militiamen. a number of shots were exchanged. one "libertador" was killed and two or three wounded, when suddenly some one cried: "the soldiers are coming!" this was the signal for a general _sauve qui peut_, and soon commander rojas with a few of his "officers" were left alone. it is said that he tried to rally his panic-stricken warriors, but they would not listen to him. then he returned to his plantation a sadder, but, presumably, a wiser man.[ ] as soon as the news of the disturbance reached san juan, the governor sent lieutenant-colonel gamar in pursuit of the rebels, with orders to investigate the details of the movement and make a list of names of all those implicated. rosas and all his followers were taken prisoners without resistance. bruckman and a venezuelan resisted and were shot down. here was an opportunity for the reactionists to visit on the heads of all the members of the reform party the offense of a few misguided jíbaros, and they tried hard to persuade the governor to adopt severe measures against their enemies; but general pavia was a just and a prudent man, and he placed the rebels at the disposition of the civil court. they were imprisoned in lares, arecibo, and aguadilla, and, while awaiting their trial, an epidemic, brought on by the unsanitary conditions of the prisons in which they were packed, speedily carried off seventy-nine of them. of the rest seven were condemned to death, but the governor pardoned five. the remaining two were pardoned by his successor. so ended the insurrection of lares. during the trial of the rebels, the same members of the reform party who had been banished by governor marchessi, don julian blanco, don josé julian acosta, don pedro goico, don rufino goenaga, and don calixto romero, were denounced as the leaders of the separatist movement. they were imprisoned, but were soon after found to have been falsely accused and liberated. [illustration: only remaining gate of the city wall, san juan.] until the arrival of general don gabriel baldrich as governor (may, ), puerto rico benefited little by the revolution of september, . the insurrection in cuba, which coincided with the movement in lares, made sanz, the successor of pavia, a man of arbitrary character and reactionary principles, adopt a policy more suspicious and intransigent than ever (from to ), but governor baldrich was a staunch liberal, and the separatist phantom which had haunted his predecessor had no terrors for him. from the day of his arrival, the dense atmosphere of obstruction, distrust, and jealousy in which the island was suffocating cleared. the rumors of conspiracies ceased, political opinions were respected, the liberals could publicly express their desire for reform without being subjected to insult and persecution. the gag was removed from the mouth of the press and each party had its proper organ. the municipal elections came off peaceably, and the provincial deputation, composed entirely of liberal reformists, was inaugurated april , . general baldrich was terribly harassed by the intransigents here and in the peninsula. he was accused of being an enemy of spain and of protecting the separatists. meetings were held denouncing his administration, menaces of expulsion were uttered, and he was insulted even in his own palace. violent opposition to his reform measures were carried to such an extent that he was at last obliged to declare the capital in a state of siege (july , ). on september th of the same year he left puerto rico disgusted, much to the regret of the enlightened part of the population, which had, for the first time, enjoyed for a short period the benefits of political freedom. as a proof of the disposition of the majority of the people they had elected eighteen liberal reformists as deputies to cortes out of the nineteen that corresponded to the island. baldrich's successor was general ramon gomez pulido, nicknamed "coco seco" (dried coconut) on account of his shriveled appearance. although appointed by a radical ministry, he inaugurated a reactionary policy. he ordered new elections to be held at once, and soon filled the prisons of the island with liberal reformists. he was followed by general don simon de la torre ( ). his reform measures met with still fiercer opposition than that which general baldrich encountered. he also was forced to declare the state of siege in the capital and landed the marines of a spanish war-ship that happened to be in the port. he posted them in the morro and san cristobal forts, with the guns pointed on the city, threatening to bombard it if the "inconditionals" who had tried to suborn the garrison carried their intention of promoting an insurrection into effect. he removed the chief of the staff from his post and sent him to spain, relieved the colonel of the puerto rican battalion and the two colonels in mayaguez and ponce from their respective commands, and maintained order with a strong hand till he was recalled by the government in madrid through the machinations of his opponents. during the interval between the departure of general baldrich and the arrival in april, , of lieutenant-general primo de rivero, there happened what was called "the insurrection of camuy," in which three men were killed, two wounded, and sixteen taken prisoners, which turned out to have been an unwarrantable aggression on the part of the reactionists, falsely reported as an attempt at insurrection. general primo de rivero brought with him the proclamation of the abolition of slavery and article i of the constitution of , whereby the inhabitants of the island were recognized as spaniards. great popular rejoicings followed these proclamations. in san juan processions paraded the streets amid "vivas" to spain, to the republic, and to liberty. in ponce the people and the soldiers fraternized, and the long-cherished aspirations of the inhabitants seemed to be realized at last. but they were soon to be undeceived. the republican authorities in the metropolis sent sanz, the reactionist, as governor for the second time. his first act was to suspend the individual guarantees granted by the constitution, then he abolished the provincial deputation, dissolved the municipalities in which the liberal reformists had a majority, and a new period of persecution set in, in which teachers, clergymen, lawyers, and judges--in short, all who were distinguished by superior education and their liberal ideas--were punished for the crime of having striven with deed or tongue or pen for the progress and welfare of the land of their birth. footnotes: [footnote : estudio historico. san juan, .] [footnote : cards, rum, and women.] [footnote : he had been president of the royal academy.] [footnote : el porvenir, for the liberals, the boletin mercantíl, for the conservatives.] [footnote : extracts from the history of the insurrection of lares, by josé perez moris.] chapter xxvi general conditions of the island--the dawn of freedom - the spanish republic was but short lived. from the day of its proclamation (february , ) to the landing in barcelona of alphonso xii in the early days of its history is the record of an uninterrupted series of popular tumults. the political restlessness in the peninsula, accentuating as it did the party antagonisms in cuba and puerto rico, led the governors, most of whom were chosen for their adherence to conservative principles, to endeavor, but in vain, to stem the tide of revolutionary and separatist ideas with more and more drastic measures of repression. this persistence of the colonial authorities in the maintenance of an obsolete system of administration, in the face of a universal recognition of the principles of liberty and self-government, added to the immediate effect on the economic and social conditions in this island of the abolition of slavery, for which it was unprepared,[ ] brought it once more to the brink of ruin. from to the resources of the island grew gradually less, the country's capital was being consumed without profit, credit became depressed, the best business forecasts turned out illusive, the most intelligent industrial efforts remained sterile. the sun of prosperity which rose over the island in set again in gloom during this period of seven years. the causes were clear to every unbiased mind and must have been so even to the prejudiced officials of the government. they consisted in the anomalous restrictions on the coasting trade, the unjustifiable difference in the duties on spanish and island produce, the high duty on flour from the united states, the export duties, the extravagant expenditure in the administration, irritating monopolies, and countless abuses, vexatious formalities, and ruinous exactions. mr. james mccormick, an intelligent scotchman, for many years a resident of the island, who, in , was commissioned by the provincial deputation to draw up a report on the causes of the agricultural depression in this island and its removal by the introduction of the system of central sugar factories, describes the situation as follows: " ... the truth is, that the country is in a pitiable condition. throughout its extent it resents the many drains upon its vitality. its strength is wasted, and the activities that utilized its favorable natural conditions are paralyzed. the damages sustained have been enormous and it is scarcely possible to appraise them at their true value. with the produce of the soil diminished and the sale thereof at losing prices the value of real estate throughout the island has decreased in alarming proportions. everybody's resources have been wasted and spent uselessly, and many landholders, wealthy but yesterday, have been ruined if not reduced to misery. the leading merchants and proprietors, men who were identified with the progress of the country and had vast resources at their command, after a long and tenacious struggle have succumbed at last under the accumulation of misfortunes banded against them." such was the situation in . to relieve the financial distress of the country a series of ordinances were enacted[ ] which culminated in the reform laws of march , , and if royal decrees had had power to cure the incurable or remove the causes that for four centuries had undermined the foundations of spain's colonial empire, they might, possibly, have sustained the crumbling edifice for some time longer. but they came too late. the antilles were slipping from spain's grasp; nor could weyler's inhuman proceedings in cuba nor the tardy concession of a pseudo-autonomy to puerto rico arrest the movement. the laws of march , , for the administrative reorganization of cuba and puerto rico, the basis of which was approved by a unanimous vote of the leaders of the peninsula and antillean parties in cortes, remained without application in cuba because of the insurrection, and in puerto rico because of the influence upon the inhabitants of this island of the events in the neighboring island. after the death of macéo and of marti, the two most influential leaders of the revolution, and the terrible measures for suppressing the revolt adopted by weyler, the spanish colonial minister, don tomas castellano y villaroya, addressed the queen regent december , . he declared his belief in the proximate pacification of cuba, and said: that the moment had arrived for the government to show to the world (_vide licet_ united states) its firm resolution to comply with the spontaneous promises made by the nation by introducing and amplifying in puerto rico the reforms in civil government and administration which had been voted by cortes. he further stated that the inconditional party in puerto rico, guided by the patriotism which distinguished it, showed its complete conformity with the reforms proposed by the government, and that the "autonomist" party, which, in the beginning, looked upon the proposed reforms with indifference, had also accepted and declared its conformity with them. therefore, the minister continued: "it would not be just in the government to indefinitely postpone the application in puerto rico of a law which awakens so many hopes of a better future." the minister assures the queen regent that the proposed laws respond to an ample spirit of decentralization, and expresses confidence that, as soon as possible, her majesty will introduce in cuba also, not only the reforms intended by the law of march th, but will extend to puerto rico the promised measures to provide the antilles _with an exclusively local administration and economic personnel_. "the reform laws," the minister adds, "will be the foundation of the new regimen, but an additional decree, to be laid before the cortes, will amplify them in such a way that a truly autonomous administration will be established in our antilles." then follow the proposed laws, which are to apply, explain, and complement in puerto rico, the reform laws of march th--namely, the provincial law, the municipal law, and the electoral law. the peninsular electoral law of june, , was adapted to cuba and puerto rico at the suggestion of sagasta, who, in the exposition to the queen regent, which accompanied the project of autonomy, stated: that the inhabitants of the antilles frequently complained of, and lamented the irritating inequalities which alone were enough to obstruct or entirely prevent the exercise of constitutional privileges, and he concludes with these remarkable words: " ... so that, if by arbitrary dispositions without appeal, by penalties imposed by proclamations of the governors-general, or by simply ignoring the laws of procedure, the citizen may be restrained, harassed, deported even to distant territories, it is impossible for him to exercise the right of free speech, free thought, or free writing, or the freedom of instruction, or religious tolerance, nor can he practise the right of union and association." these words constitute a synopsis of the causes that made the spanish government's tardy attempts at reform in the administration of its ultramarine possessions illusive; that mocked the people's legitimate aspirations, destroyed their confidence in the promises of the home government, and made the people of puerto rico look upon the american soldiers, when they landed, not as men in search of conquest and spoliation, but as the representatives of a nation enjoying a full measure of the liberties and privileges, for a moderate share of which they had vainly petitioned the mother country through long years of unquestioning loyalty. the royal decree conceding autonomy to puerto rico was signed on november , . on april , , governor-general manuel macias, suspended the constitutional guarantees and declared the island in state of war. a few months later puerto rico, recognized too late as ripe for self-government by the mother country, became a part of the territory of the united states. footnotes: [footnote : the slaveholders were paid in government bonds (schedules), redeemable in ten years. they lost their labor supply, and had neither capital nor other means to replace it. their ruin became inevitable. an english or german syndicate bought up the bonds at per cent.] [footnote : see part ii, chapter on finances.] part ii the people and their institutions chapter xxvii situation and general appearance of puerto rico the island of puerto rico, situated in the atlantic ocean, is about , miles from new york, , miles from havana, , miles from key west, , miles from panama, , miles from land's end in england, and , from the port of cadiz. it is about miles in length from east to west, by miles in average breadth, and has an area of , square miles. it lies eastward of the other greater antilles, cuba, haiti, and jamaica, and although inferior even to the last of these islands in population and extent, it yields to none of them in fertility. by its geographical position puerto rico is peculiarly adapted to become the center of an extensive commerce. it lies to the windward of cuba, santo domingo, and jamaica, and of the gulf of mexico and bay of honduras. it is contiguous to all the english and french windward islands, only a few hours distant from the former danish islands saint thomas, saint john, and santa cruz, and a few days' sail from the coast of venezuela. puerto rico is the fourth in size of the greater antilles. its first appearance to the eye of the stranger is striking and picturesque. nature here offers herself to his contemplation clothed in the splendid vesture of tropical vegetation. the chain of mountains which intersects the island from east to west seems at first sight to form two distinct chains parallel to each other, but closer observation makes it evident that they are in reality corresponding parts of the same chain, with upland valleys and tablelands in the center, which again rise gradually and incorporate themselves with the higher ridges. the height of these mountains is lofty, if compared with those of the other antilles. the loftiest part is that of luguillo, or loquillo, at the northeast extremity of the island, which measures , castilian yards, and the highest point, denominated el yunque, can be seen at the distance of miles at sea. the summit of this ridge is almost always enveloped in mist, and when its sides are overhung by white fleecy clouds it is the certain precursor of the heavy showers which fertilize the northern coast. the soil in the center of the mountains is excellent, and the mountains themselves are susceptible of cultivation to their summits. several towns and villages are situated among these mountains, where the inhabitants enjoy the coolness of a european spring and a pure and salubrious atmosphere. the town of alboníto, built on a table-land about eight leagues from ponce, on the southern coast, enjoys a delightful climate. to the north and south of this interior ridge of mountains, stretching along the seacoasts, are the fertile valleys which produce the chief wealth of the island. from the principal chain smaller ridges run north and south, forming between them innumerable valleys, fertilized by limpid streams which, descending from the mountains, empty themselves into the sea on either coast. in these valleys the majestic beauty of the palm-trees, the pleasant alternation of hill and dale, the lively verdure of the hills, compared with the deeper tints of the forest, the orange trees, especially when covered with their golden fruit, the rivers winding through the dales, the luxuriant fields of sugar-cane, corn, and rice, with here and there a house peeping through a grove of plantains, and cattle grazing in the green pasture, form altogether a landscape of rural beauty scarcely to be surpassed in any country in the world. the valleys of the north and east coasts are richest in cattle and most picturesque. the pasturage there is always verdant and luxuriant, while those of the south coast, richer in sugar, are often parched by excessive drought, which, however, does not affect their fertility, for water is found near the surface. this same alternation of rain and drought on the north and south coasts is generally observed in all the west india islands. few islands of the extent of puerto rico are watered by so many streams. seventeen rivers, taking their rise in the mountains, cross the valleys of the north coast and fall into the sea. some of these are navigable for two or three leagues from their mouths for small craft. those of manati, loisa, trabajo, and arecibo are very deep and broad, and it is difficult to imagine how such large bodies of water can be collected in so short a course. owing to the heavy surf which continually breaks on the north coast, these rivers have bars across their embouchures which do not allow large vessels to enter. the rivers of bayamón and rio piedras flow into the harbor of the capital, and are also navigable for boats. at arecibo, at high water, small brigs may enter with perfect safety, notwithstanding the bar. the south, west, and east coasts are also well supplied with water. from the cabeza de san juan, which is the northeast extremity of the island, to cape mala pascua, which lies to the southeast, nine rivers fall into the sea. from cape mala pascua to point aguila, which forms the southwest angle of the island, sixteen rivers discharge their waters on the south coast. on the west coast, three rivers, five rivulets, and several fresh-water lakes communicate with the sea. the rivers of the north coast are well stocked with edible fish. the roads formed in puerto rico during the spanish administration are constructed on a substantial plan, the center being filled with gravel and stones well cemented. each town made and repaired the roads of its respective district. many excellent and solid bridges, with stone abutments, existed at the time of the transfer of the island to the american nation. the whole line of coast of this island is indented with harbors, bays, and creeks where ships of heavy draft may come to anchor. on the north coast, during the months of november, december, and january, when the wind blows sometimes with violence from the east and northeast, the anchorage is dangerous in all the bays and harbors of that coast, except in the port of san juan. on the western coast the spacious bay of aguadilla is formed by cape borrigua and cape san francisco. when the southeast winds prevail it is _not_ a safe anchorage for ships. mayaguez is also an open roadstead on the west coast formed by two projecting capes. it has good anchorage for vessels of large size and is well sheltered from the north winds. the south coast also abounds in bays and harbors, but those which deserve particular attention are the ports of guánica and hobos, or jovos, near guayama. in guánica vessels drawing feet of water may enter with perfect safety and anchor close to the shore. hobos or jovos is a haven of considerable importance; sailing vessels of the largest class may anchor and ride in safety; it has fathoms of water in the shallowest part of the entrance, but it is difficult to enter from june to november as the sea breaks with violence at the entrance on account of the southerly winds which prevail at this season. all the large islands in the tropics enjoy approximately the same climate. the heat, the rains, the seasons, are, with trifling variations, the same in all, but the number of mountains and running streams, the absence of stagnant waters and general cultivation of the land in puerto rico do, probably, powerfully contribute to purify the atmosphere and render it more salubrious to europeans than it otherwise would be. in the mountains one enjoys the coolness of spring, but the valleys, were it not for the daily breeze which blows from the northeast and east, would be almost uninhabitable for white men during part of the year. the climate of the north and south coasts of this island, though under the same tropical influence, is nevertheless essentially different. on the north coast it sometimes rains almost the whole year, while on the south coast sometimes no rain falls for twelve or fourteen months. on the whole, puerto rico is one of the healthiest islands in the west indies, nor is it infested to the same extent as other islands by poisonous snakes and other noxious reptiles. the laborer may sleep in peace and security in the midst of the forest, by the side of the river, or in the meadow with his cattle with no other fear than that of an occasional centipede or guabuá (large hairy spider). unlike most tropical islands there are no indigenous quadrupeds and scarcely any of the feathered tribe in the forests. on the rivers there are a few water-fowl and in the forests the green parrot. there are neither monkeys nor rabbits, but rats and mongooses infest the country and sometimes commit dreadful ravages in the sugar-cane. ants of different species also abound. chapter xxviii origin, character, and customs of the primitive inhabitants of boriquÉn the origin of the primitive inhabitants of the west indian archipelago has been the subject of much learned controversy, ending, like all such discussions, in different theories and more or less verisimilar conjecture. it appears that at the time of the discovery these islands were inhabited by three races of different origin. one of these races occupied the bahamas. columbus describes them as simple, generous, peaceful creatures, whose only weapon was a pointed stick or cane. they were of a light copper color, well-proportioned but slender, rather good-looking, with aquiline noses, salient cheek-bones, medium-sized mouths, long coarse hair. they had, perhaps, formerly occupied the eastern part of the archipelago, whence they had gradually disappeared, driven or exterminated by the caribs, caribós, or guáribos, a savage, warlike, and cruel race, which had invaded the west indies from the continent by way of the orinoco, along the tributaries of which river tribes of the same race are still to be found. the larger antilles, cuba, santo domingo, and puerto rico, were occupied by a race which probably originated from some part of the southern division of the northern continent. the chroniclers mention the guaycures and others as their possible ancestors, and stahl traces their origin to a mixture of the phoenicians with the aborigines of remote antiquity. the information which we possess with regard to the habits and customs of the inhabitants of boriquén at the time of discovery is too scanty and too unreliable to permit us to form more than a speculative opinion of the degree of culture attained by them. friar abbad, in the fourth chapter of his history, gives us a description of the character and customs of the people of boriquén taken wholly from the works of oviedo, herrera, robertson, raynal, and others. like most of the aboriginal inhabitants of america, the natives of boriquén were copper-colored, but somewhat darker than the inhabitants of the neighboring islands. they were shorter of stature than the spaniards, but corpulent and well-proportioned, with flat noses, wide nostrils, dull eyes, bad teeth, narrow foreheads, the skull artificially flattened before and behind so as to give it a conical shape, with long, black, coarse hair, beardless and hairless on the rest of the body. says oviedo: " ... their heads were not like other people's, their skulls were so hard and thick that the christians by fighting with them have learned not to strike them on the head because the swords break." their whole appearance betrayed a lazy, indolent habit, and they showed extreme aversion to labor or fatigue of any kind. they put forth no exertion save what was necessary to obtain food, and only rose from their "hamácas" or "jamácas," or shook off their habitual indolence to play a game of ball (batey) or attend the dances (areytos) which were accompanied by rude music and the chanting of whatever happened to occupy their minds at the time. notwithstanding their indolence and the unsubstantial nature of their food, they were comparatively strong and robust, as they proved in many a personal tussle with the spaniards. clothing was almost unknown. only the women of mature age used an apron of varying length, the rest, without distinction of age or sex, were naked. they took great pains in painting their bodies with all sorts of grotesque figures, the earthy coloring matter being laid on by means of oily or resinous substances extracted from plants or trees. these coats of paint, when fresh, served as holiday attire, and protected them from the bites of mosquitoes and other insects. the dandies among them added to this airy apparel a few bright feathers in their hair, a shell or two in their ears and nostrils. and the caciques wore a disk of gold (guarim) the size of a large medal round their necks to denote their rank. the huts were built square or oblong, raised somewhat above the ground, with only one opening for entrance and exit, cane being the principal building material. the chief piece of furniture was the "hamáca," made with creepers or strips of bark of the "emajágua" tree. the "totúmo" or "jigüera" furnished them with their domestic utensils, as it furnishes the "jíbaro" of to-day with his cups and jugs and basins. their mode of making fire was the universal one practised by savages. their arms were the usual macána and bow and arrows, but they did not poison the arrows as did the caribs. the largest of their canoes, or "piráguas," could contain from to men, and served for purposes of war, but the majority of their canoes were of small size used in navigating the coast and rivers. there being no mammals in the island, they knew not the use of flesh for food, but they had abundance of fish, and they ate besides whatever creeping or crawling thing they happened to find. these with the yucca from which they made their casabe or bread, maize, yams, and other edible roots, constituted their food supply. there were in boriquén, as there are among all primitive races, certain individuals, the embryos of future church functionaries, who were medicine-man, priest, prophet, and general director of the moral and intellectual affairs of the benighted masses, but that is all we know of them.[ ] footnotes: [footnote : for further information on this subject, see estudios ethnologicos sobre los indios boriqueños, by a. stahl, . revista puertoriqueña, año ii, tomo ii.] chapter xxix the "jÍbaro," or puerto rican peasant "there is in this island a class of inhabitants, not the least numerous by any means, who dwell in swamps and marshes, live on vegetables, and drink muddy water." so wrote dr. richard rey[ ] a couple of decades ago, and, although, under the changed political and social conditions, these people, as a class, will soon disappear, they are quite numerous still, and being the product of the peculiar social and political conditions of a past era deserve to be known. to this considerable part of the population of puerto rico the name of "jíbaros" is applied; they are the descendants of the settlers who in the early days of the colonization of the island spread through the interior, and with the assistance of an indian or negro slave or two cleared and cultivated a piece of land in some isolated locality, where they continued to live from day to day without troubling themselves about the future or about what passed in the rest of the universe. the modern jíbaro builds his "bohío," or hut, in any place without regard to hygienic conditions, and in its construction follows the same plan and uses the same materials employed in their day by the aboriginal inhabitants. this "bohío" is square or oblong in form, raised on posts two or three feet from the ground, and the materials are cane, the trunks of the coco-palm, entire or cut into boards, and the bark of another species of palm, the "yaguas," which serves for roofing and walls. the interior of these huts is sometimes divided by a partition of reeds into two apartments, in one of which the family sit by day. the other is the sleeping room, where the father, mother, and children, male and female, of all ages, sleep, promiscuously huddled together on a platform of boards or bar bacao. the majority of the jíbaros are whites. mestizoes, mulattos, and negroes are numerous also. but we are here concerned with the jíbaro of european descent only, whose redemption from a degraded condition of existence it is to the country's interest should be specially attended to. mr. francisco del valle atilés, one of puerto rico's distinguished literary men, has left us a circumstantial description of the character and conditions of these rustics.[ ] he divides them into three groups: those living in the neighborhood of the large sugar and coffee estates, who earn their living working as peons; the second group comprises the small proprietors who cultivate their own patch of land, and the third, the comparatively well-to-do individuals or small proprietors who usually prefer to live as far as possible from the centers of population. the jíbaro, as a rule, is well formed, slender, of a delicate constitution, slow in his movements, taciturn, and of a sickly aspect. occasionally, in the mountainous districts, one meets a man of advanced age still strong and robust doing daily work and mounting on horseback without effort. such a one will generally be found to be of pure spanish descent, and to have a numerous family of healthy, good-looking children, but the appearance of the average jíbaro is as described. he looks sickly and anemic in consequence of the insufficient quantity and innutritious quality of the food on which he subsists and the unhealthy conditions of his surroundings. rice, plantains, sweet potatoes, maize, yams, beans, and salted fish constitute his diet year in year out, and although there are indian races who could thrive perhaps on such frugal fare, the effect of such a _régime_ on individuals of the white race is loss of muscular energy and a consequent craving for stimulants. his clothing, too, is scanty. he wears no shoes, and when drenched with rain or perspiration he will probably let his garments dry on his body. for the empty feeling in his stomach, the damp and the cold to which he is thus daily exposed, his antidotes are tobacco and rum, the first he chews and smokes. in the use of the second he seldom goes to the extent of intoxication. under these conditions, and considering his absolute ignorance and consequent neglect of the laws of hygiene, it is but natural that the puerto rican peasant should be subject to the ravages of paludal fever, one of the most dangerous of the endemic diseases of the tropics. friar abbad observes: " ... no cure has yet been discovered ( ) for the intermittent fevers which are often from four to six years in duration. those who happen to get rid of them recover very slowly; many remain weak and attenuated; the want of nutritious food and the climate conduce to one disease or another, so that those who escape the fever generally die of dropsy." however, the at first sight apathetic and weak jíbaro, when roused to exertion or when stimulated by personal interest or passion, can display remarkable powers of endurance. notwithstanding his reputation of being lazy, he will work ten or eleven hours a day if fairly remunerated. under the spanish _régime_, when he was forced to present himself on the plantations to work for a few cents from sunrise to sundown, he was slow; or if he was of the small proprietor class, he had to pay an enormous municipal tax on his scanty produce, so that it is very likely that he may often have preferred swinging in his hammock to laboring in the fields for the benefit of the municipal treasury. mr. atilés refers to the premature awakening among the rustic population of this island of the procreative instincts, and the consequent increase in their numbers notwithstanding the high rate of mortality. the fecundity of the women is notable; from six to ten children in a family seems to be the normal number. [illustration: a tienda, or small shop.] intellectually the jíbaro is as poor as he is physically. his illiteracy is complete; his speech is notoriously incorrect; his songs, if not of a silly, meaningless character, are often obscene; sometimes they betray the existence of a poetic sentiment. these songs are usually accompanied by the music of a stringed instrument of the guitar kind made by the musician himself, to which is added the "güiro," a kind of ribbed gourd which is scraped with a small stick to the measure of the tune, and produces a noise very trying to the nerves of a person not accustomed to it. in religion the jíbaro professes catholicism with a large admixture of fetichism. his moral sense is blunt in many respects. colonel flinter[ ] gives the following description of the jíbaros of his day, which also applies to them to-day: "they are very civil in their manners, but, though they seem all simplicity and humility, they are so acute in their dealings that they are sure to deceive a person who is not very guarded. although they would scorn to commit a robbery, yet they think it only fair to deceive or overreach in a bargain. like the peasantry of ireland, they are proverbial for their hospitality, and, like them, they are ever ready to fight on the slightest provocation. they swing themselves to and fro in their hammocks all day long, smoking their cigars or scraping a guitar. the plantain grove which surrounds their houses, and the coffee tree which grows almost without cultivation, afford them a frugal subsistence. if with these they have a cow and a horse, they consider themselves rich and happy. happy indeed they are; they feel neither the pangs nor remorse which follow the steps of disappointed ambition nor the daily wants experienced by the poor inhabitants of northern regions." this entirely materialistic conception of happiness which, it is certain, the puerto rican peasant still entertains, is now giving way slowly but surely before the new influences that are being brought to bear on himself and on his surroundings. the touch of education is dispelling the darkness of ignorance that enveloped the rural districts of this island until lately; industrial activity is placing the means of greater comfort within the reach of every one who cares to work for them; the observance of the laws of health is beginning to be enforced, even in the bohío, and with them will come a greater morality. in a word, in ten years the puerto rican jíbaro will have disappeared, and in his place there will be an industrious, well-behaved, and no longer illiterate class of field laborers, with a nobler conception of happiness than that to which they have aspired for many generations. footnotes: [footnote : estudio sobre el paludismo en puerto rico.] [footnote : el campesino puertoriqueño, sus condiciones, etc. revista puertoriqueña, vols. ii, iii, , .] [footnote : an account of the present state of the island of puerto rico. london, .] chapter xxx origin and character of the modern inhabitants of puerto rico during the initial period of conquest and colonization, no spanish females came to this or any other of the conquered territories. soldiers, mariners, monks, and adventurers brought no families with them; so that by the side of the aboriginals and the spaniards "pur sang" there sprang up an indigenous population of mestizos. the result of the union of two physically, ethically, and intellectually widely differing races is _not_ the transmission to the progeny of any or all of the superior qualities of the progenitor, but rather his own moral degradation. the mestizos of spanish america, the eurasians of the east indies, the mulattoes of africa are moral, as well as physical hybrids in whose character, as a rule, the worst qualities of the two races from which they spring predominate. it is only in subsequent generations, after oft-repeated crossings and recrossings, that atavism takes place, or that the fusion of the two races is finally consummated through the preponderance of the physiological attributes of the ancestor of superior race. the early introduction of negro slaves, almost exclusively males, the affinity between them and the indians, the state of common servitude and close, daily contact produced another race. by the side of the mestizo there grew up the zambo. later, when negro women were brought from santo domingo or other islands, the mulatto was added. considering the class to which the majority of the first spanish settlers in this island belonged, the social status resulting from these additions to their number could be but little superior to that of the aboriginals themselves. the necessity of raising that status by the introduction of white married couples was manifest to the king's officers in the island, who asked the government in to send them such couples. it was not done. fifty bachelors came instead, whose arrival lowered the moral standard still further. it was late in the island's history before the influx of respectable foreigners and their families began to diffuse a higher ethical tone among the creoles of the better class. unfortunately, the daily contact of the lower and middle classes with the soldiers of the garrison did not tend to improve their character and manners, and the effects of this contact are clearly traceable to-day in the manners and language of the common people. from the crossings in the first degree of the indian, negro, and white races, and their subsequent recrossings, there arose in course of time a mixed race of so many gradations of color that it became difficult in many instances to tell from the outward appearance of an individual to what original stock he belonged; and, it being the established rule in all spanish colonies to grant no civil or military employment above a certain grade to any but peninsulars or their descendants of pure blood, it became necessary to demand from every candidate documentary evidence that he had no indian or negro blood in his veins. this was called presenting an "expediente de sangre," and the practise remained in force till the year , when marshal serrano abolished it. whether it be due to atavism, or whether, as is more likely, the indians did not really become extinct till much later than the period at which it is generally supposed their final fusion into the two exotic races took place,[ ] it is certain that indian characteristics, physical and ethical, still largely prevail among the rural population of puerto rico, as observed by schoelzer and other ethnologists. the evolution of a new type of life is now in course of process. in the meantime, we have mr. salvador brau's authority[ ] for stating the general character of the present generation of puerto ricans to be made up of the distinctive qualities of the three races from which they are descended, to wit: indolence, taciturnity, sobriety, disinterestedness, hospitality, inherited from their indian ancestors; physical endurance, sensuality, and fatalism from their negro progenitors; and love of display, love of country, independence, devotion, perseverance, and chivalry from their spanish sires. a somewhat sarcastic reference to the characteristics due to the spanish blood in them was made in by bishop damian de haro in a letter to a friend, wherein, speaking of his diocesans, he says that they are of very chivalric extraction, for, "he who is not descended from the house of austria is related to the dauphin of france or to charlemagne." he draws an amusing picture of the inhabitants of the capital, saying that at the time there were about males and , women "between black and mulatto." he complains that there are no grapes in the country; that the melons are red, and that the butcher retails turtle meat instead of beef or pork; yet, says he, "my table is a bishop's table for all that." to a lady in santo domingo he sent the following sonnet: this is a small island, lady, with neither money nor provisions; the blacks go naked as they do yonder, and there 're more people in the seville prison. the castilian coats of arms are conspicuous by their absence, but there are plenty cavaliers who deal in hides and ginger, there's water in the tanks, when 't rains, a cathedral, but no priests, handsome women, but not elegant, greed and envy are indigenous. plenty of heat and palm-tree shade, and best of all a refreshing breeze. of the moral defects of the people it would be invidious to speak. the lower classes are not remarkable for their respect for the property of others. on the subject of morality among the rural population we may cite count de caspe, the governor's report to the king: " ... destitute as they are of religious instruction and moral restraint, their unions are without the sanction of religious or civil law, and last just as long as their sensual appetites last; it may therefore be truly said, that in the rural districts of puerto rico the family, morally constituted, does not exist." colonel flinter's account of the people and social conditions of puerto rico in is a rather flattering one, though he acknowledges that the island had a bad reputation on account of the lawless character of the lower class of inhabitants. all this has greatly changed for the better, but much remains to be done in the way of moral improvement. footnotes: [footnote : abbad points out that in -' there were still two indian settlements in the neighborhood of añasco and san german.] [footnote : puerto rico y su historia, p. .] chapter xxxi negro slavery in puerto rico from the early days of the conquest the black race appeared side by side with the white race. both supplanted the native race, and both have marched parallel ever since, sometimes separately, sometimes mixing their blood. the introduction of african negroes into puerto rico made the institution of slavery permanent. it is true that king ferdinand ordered the reduction to slavery of all rebellious indians in , but he revoked the order the next year. the negro was and remained a slave. for centuries he had been looked upon as a special creation for the purpose of servitude, and the spaniards were accustomed to see him daily offered for sale in the markets of andalusia. notwithstanding the practical reduction to slavery of the indians of la española by columbus, under the title of "repartimientos," negro slaves were introduced into that island as early as , when a certain juan sanchez and alfonso bravo received royal permission to carry five caravels of slaves to the newly discovered island. ovando, who was governor at the time, protested strongly on the ground that the negroes escaped to the forests and mountains, where they joined the rebellious or fugitive indians and made their subjugation much more difficult. the same thing happened later in san juan. in this island special permission was necessary to introduce negroes. sedeño and the smelter of ores, giron, who came here in , made oath that the two slaves each brought with them were for their personal service only. in their general introduction was authorized by royal schedule on payment of two ducats per head. cardinal cisneros prohibited the export of negro slaves from spain in ; but the efforts of father las casas to alleviate the lot of the indians by the introduction of what he believed, with the rest of his contemporaries, to be providentially ordained slaves, obtained from charles ii a concession in favor of garrebod, the king's high steward, to ship , negroes to la española, cuba, puerto rico, and jamaica ( ). garrebod sold the concession to some merchants of genoa. with the same view of saving the indians, the jerome fathers, who governed the antilles in , requested the emperor's permission to fit out slave-ships themselves and send them to the coast of africa for negroes. it appears that this permission was not granted; but in another concession to introduce , negroes into the antilles was given to some germans, who, however, did not comply with the terms of the contract. negroes were scarce and dear in san juan at this period, which caused the authorities to petition the emperor for permission to each settler to bring two slaves free of duty, and, this being granted, it gave rise to abuse, as the city officers in their address of thanks to the empress, stated at the same time that many took advantage of the privilege to transfer or sell their permit in seville without coming to the island. then it was enacted that slaves should be introduced only by authorized traffickers, who soon raised the price to or castilian dollars per head. the crown officers in the island protested, and asked that every settler might be permitted to bring or negroes, paying the duty of ducats per head, which had been imposed by king ferdinand in . a new deposit of gold had been discovered about this time ( ), and the hope that others might be found now induced the colonists to buy the negroes from the authorized traders on credit at very high prices, to be paid with the gold which the slaves should be made instrumental in discovering. but the longed-for metal did not appear. the purchasers could not pay. many had their property embargoed and sold, and were ruined. some were imprisoned, others escaped to the mountains or left the island. from to the authorities kept asking for negroes; sometimes offering to pay duty, at others soliciting their free introduction; now complaining that the colonists escaped _with their slaves_ to mexico and peru, then lamenting that the german merchants, who had the monopoly of the traffic, took them to all the other antilles, but would bring none to this island. however, , african slaves entered here at different times during those seventeen years, without reckoning the large numbers that were introduced as contraband. philip ii tried to reduce the exorbitant prices exacted by the german monopolists of the west indian slave-trade, but, finding that his efforts to do so diminished the importation, he revoked his ordinances. a genoese banking-house, having made him large advances to help equip the great armada for the invasion of england, obtained the next monopoly ( ). during the course of the seventeenth century the privilege of introducing african slaves into the antilles was sold successively to genoese, portuguese, holland, french, and spanish companies. the traffic was an exceedingly profitable one, not so much on account of the high prices obtained for the negroes as on account of the contraband trade in all kinds of merchandise that accompanied it. from to during the government of felipe de beaumont, ship-loads of slaves entered san juan harbor. during the eighteenth century the traffic expanded still more. to induce england to abandon the cause of the house of austria, for which that nation was fighting, philip v offered it the exclusive privilege of introducing , negro slaves into the spanish-american colonies within a period of thirty years; the monopolists to pay - silver crowns for each negro introduced, to the spanish government.[ ] war interrupted this contract several times, and long before the termination of the thirty years the english ceased to import slaves. several contracts for the importation of slaves into the antilles were made from to the end of the century. first a contract was made with miguel uriarte to take , slaves to different parts of spanish america. in the king sanctioned the introduction by the carácas company of , slaves to replace the indians in carácas and maraeaíbo, who had died of smallpox. all duties on the introduction of negroes into santo domingo, cuba, puerto rico, margarita, and trinidad were commuted in the same year for a moderate capitation tax, and the spanish firm of aguirre, aristegui & co. was authorized to provide the antilles with negroes, on condition of reducing the price pesos per head, besides the amount of abolished duty. this firm abused the privileges granted, and the inhabitants of all the colonies, excepting peru, chile, and the argentina, were allowed to provide themselves, as best they could, with slaves from the french colonies while the war lasted ( ). four years later, january , , a certain lenormand, of xantes, received the king's permission to take a ship-load of african slaves to puerto rico on condition of paying per cent of the product to the government. in this same year the barbarous custom of branding the slaves was abolished. the abominable traffic was declared entirely free in santo domingo, cuba, and puerto rico by royal decree, february , . foreign ships were placed under certain restrictions, but a bounty of pesos per head was paid for negroes brought in spanish bottoms, to meet which a per capita tax of pesos per head on domestic slaves was levied. by this time the famous debates in the british parliament and other signs of the times announced the dawn of freedom for the oppressed african race. wilberforce, clarkson, and buxton, the english abolitionists, continued their denunciations of the demoralizing institution. their effects were crowned with success in . the traffic was abolished, and ten years later great britain emancipated more than twelve million slaves in her east and west indian possessions, paying the masters over one hundred millions of dollars as indemnity. spain agreed in to abolish the slave-trade in her dominions by may , . by articles and of the convention, england offered to pay to spain $ , , as complete compensation to his catholic majesty's subjects who were engaged in the traffic. the spanish government illegally employed this money to purchase from russia a fleet of five ships of the line and eight frigates. the slaves in puerto rico were not emancipated until march , , when , were manumitted in one day, at a cost to the government of pesos each, plus the interest on the bonds that were issued. the nature of the relations between the master and the slave in puerto rico probably did not differ much from that which existed between them in the other spanish colonies. but these relations began to assume an aspect of distrust and severity on the one hand and sullen resentment on the other when the war of extermination between whites and blacks in santo domingo and the establishment of a negro republic in haiti made it possible for the flame of negro insurrection to be wafted across the narrow space of water that separates the two islands. there was sufficient ground for such apprehension. the free colored population in puerto rico at that time ( -' ) numbered , , the slaves , , as against , whites, among whom many were of mixed blood.[ ] prim, the governor-general, to suppress every attempt at insurrection, issued the proclamation, of which the following is a synopsis: "i, john prim, count of ecus, etc., etc., etc. "whereas, the critical circumstances of the times and the afflictive condition of the countries in the neighborhood of this island, some of which are torn by civil war, and others engaged in a war of extermination between the white and black races; it is incumbent on me to dictate efficacious measures to prevent the spread of these calamities to our pacific soil.... i have decreed as follows: "article . all offenses committed by individuals of african race, whether free or slaves, shall be judged by court-martial. "art. . any individual of african race, whether free or slave, who shall offer armed resistance to a white, shall be shot, if a slave, and have his right hand cut off by the public executioner, if a free man. should he be wounded he shall be shot. "art. . if any individual of african race, whether slave or free, shall insult, menace, or maltreat, in any way, a white person, he will be condemned to five years of penal servitude, if a slave, and according to the circumstances of the case, if free. "art. . the owners of slaves are hereby authorized to correct and chastise them for slight misdemeanors, without any civil or military functionary having the right to interfere. "art. . if any slave shall rebel against his master, the latter is authorized to kill him on the spot. "art. orders the military commanders of the departments of the island to decide all cases of offenses committed by colored people within twenty-four hours of their denunciation." this draconic decree is signed, puerto rico, may , . footnotes: [footnote : treaty of madrid, march , , ratified by the treaty of utrecht. there were two kinds of silver crowns, one of pesetas, the other of , worth respectively and english shillings.] [footnote : flinter, p. .] chapter xxxii increase of population all statements of definite numbers with respect to the aboriginal population of this island are essentially fabulous. columbus touched at only one port on the western shore. he remained there but a few days and did not come in contact with the inhabitants. ponce and his men conquered but a part of the island, and had no time to study the question of population, even if they had had the inclination to do so. they did not count the enemy in time of war, and only interested themselves in the number of prisoners which to them constituted the spoils of conquest. any calculation regarding the numbers that remained at large, based on the number of indians distributed, can not be correct. the same may be said of the computations of the population of the island made by abbad, o'reilly, and others at a time when there was not a correct statistical survey existing in the most civilized countries of europe. none of these computations exceed the limits of mere conjecture. with regard to the attempts to explain the causes of the decay and ultimate disappearance of the aboriginal race, this subject also appears to be involved in considerable doubt and obscurity, notwithstanding the positive statements of native writers regarding it. it has been impossible to ascertain in what degree they became amalgamated by intermarriage with the conquerors; yet, that it has been to a much larger degree than generally supposed, is proved by the fact that many of the inhabitants, classed as white, have, both in their features and manners, definite traces of the indian race.[ ] with respect to the census taken by the spanish authorities at different times, though they may have taken great pains to obtain correct statistical accounts, there is little doubt that the real numbers greatly exceeded those which appear in the official returns. the reason for this discrepancy is supposed by the author mentioned to have been the _direct contribution_ which was levied on agricultural property, inducing the landed proprietors to conceal the real number of their slaves in order to make their crops appear to have been _smaller_ than they were. nor does it appear that the increase in the population of puerto rico is so much indebted to immigration as is generally supposed; for, notwithstanding the advantages offered to colonists by the government in , and the influx of settlers from santo domingo and venezuela during the civil wars in these republics, there were only , naturalized foreigners in the island in . it appears also that the spanish immigration from the revolted colonies did not exceed , souls. puerto rico had the reputation of being very poor, consequently, no immigrants were attracted by the prospect of money-making. the increase in the population of this island is sufficiently accounted for by the fact that three-fourths of the inhabitants are engaged in agricultural pursuits, which, of all occupations, are most conducive to health. to which must be added the people's frugal habits, the easy morals, the effect of climate, and the fecundity of the women of all mixed races. these, and the peace which the island enjoyed in the beginning of the nineteenth century, together with the abolition of some of the restrictions on commerce and industry, promoted an era of prosperity the like of which the inhabitants had never before known, and the natural consequence was increase in numbers. "in those days," says colonel flinter, "if some perfect stranger had dropped from the clouds as it were, on this island, naked, without any other auxiliaries than health and strength, he might have married the next day and maintained a family without suffering more hardships or privations than fall to the lot of every laborer in the ordinary process of clearing and cultivating a piece of land." the earliest information on the subject was given by alexander o'reilly, the royal commissioner to the antilles in , who enumerates a list of towns and settlements with a total population of _free_ men, women, and children of all colors.... , slaves of both sexes, including their children ........ , total................................................. , abbad, in his "general statistics of the island," corresponding to the end of the year , gives the details of the population in "partidas," or ecclesiastical districts, as follows: whites , free colored people , free blacks , other free people ("agregados") , slaves , ------ total , that is to say, an increase of - per cent per annum during the eleven years elapsed since o'reilly's computation, which was a period of constant apprehension of attacks by pirates and privateers. from to there were three censuses taken showing the following totals: in , souls. " , " " , " from to , there was universal poverty and depression in the island in consequence of the prohibitive system introduced by the spanish authorities in all branches of commerce and industry, and the sudden failure of the annual remittances from mexico in consequence of the insurrection. still, the population had increased from , in to , in . from this year forward a great improvement in the island's general condition set in, thanks to the efforts of don ramon power, puerto rico's delegate to cortes, who obtained for the island, in november, , the freedom of commerce with foreign nations, and by the appointment of intendant ramirez procured the suppression of many abuses and monopolies. the royal schedule of august , , called "the schedule of graces," also contributed to the general improvement by the opening of the ports to immigrants, though short-sighted restrictions destroyed the beneficent effects of the measure to no small extent. however, immigrants came, and among them practical agriculturists from louisiana, with slaves and capital. the census of gives the total population on an area of square leagues, in the proportion of - inhabitants per square league, as follows: whites.......................... , colored.......................... , slaves........................... , troops and prisoners.............. , total........................... , this year shows an increase in the proportion of the slave population over the free population since , due to the free introduction of slaves and the slaves brought by the immigrants. a statistical commission for the island of puerto rico was created in . the census taken under its auspices in the following year may be considered reliable. the total figures are: whites........................... , free colored...................... , slaves............................ , total............................ , in cholera morbus raged throughout the island, especially among the colored population, and carried off , slaves alone. the next census shows the progressive increase of inhabitants. it was conducted by royal decree of september , , on the nights of december and , . the official memorial gives the following totals: whites................................ , free colored.......................... , slaves................................ , unclassified.......................... total............................. , or , . inhabitants per square league; one of the densest populations on the globe, and the densest in the antilles at the time except barbados. the annual increase of population in puerto rico, according to the calculations of colonel flinter, was: from - ... years ... - per cent per annum. " - ... " ... - " " - ... " ... - " " " - ... " ... " " " - ... " ... - " " " - ... " ... . " " or an average annual increase of a little less than per cent in a period of eighty-two years. from to the increase was small, but from that year to the end of spanish domination the percentage of increase was larger than in any of the preceding periods. the treaty of paris brought , souls under the protection of the american flag. they consisted of , whites, , of mixed race, and , negroes. footnotes: [footnote : flinter.] chapter xxxiii agriculture in puerto rico after the cessation of the gold produce, when the colonists were forced by necessity to dedicate themselves to agriculture, they met with many adverse conditions: the incursions of the caribs, the hurricanes of and , the emigration to peru and mexico, the internal dissensions, and last, but not least, the heavy taxes. the colonists had found the soil of puerto rico admirably adapted to sugar-cane, which they brought from santo domingo, where columbus had introduced it on his second voyage, and the nascent sugar industry was beginning to prosper and expand when a royal decree imposing a heavy tax on sugar came to strangle it in its birth. bishop bastidas called the government's attention to the fact in a letter dated march , , in which he says: " ... the new tax to be paid on sugar in this island, as ordained by your majesty, will still further reduce the number of mills, which have been diminishing of late. let this tax be suspended and the mills in course of construction will be finished, while the erection of others will be encouraged." the prelate's efforts seem to have produced a favorable effect. treasurer castellanos, in , loaned , pesos for the government's account, to two colonists for the erection of two sugar-cane mills. in gregorio santolaya built, in the neighborhood of the capital, the first cane-mill turned by water-power, and two mills moved by horse-power. another water-power mill was mounted in on the estate of alonzo perez martel with the assistance of , pesos lent by the king. loans for the same purpose continued to be made for years after. but if the government encouraged the sugar industry with one hand, with the other it checked its development, together with that of other agricultural industries appropriate to the island, by means of prohibitive legislation, monopolies, and other oppressive measures. the effects of this administrative stupidity were still patent a century later. bishop fray lopez de haro wrote in : " ... the only crop in this island is ginger, and it is so depreciated that nobody buys it or wants to take it to spain.... there are many cattle farms in the country, and sugar mills, where the families live with their slaves the whole year round." canon torres vargas, in his memoirs, amplifies the bishop's statement, stating that the principal articles of commerce of the island were ginger, hides, and sugar, and he gives the location of the above-mentioned sugar-cane mills. the total annual produce of ginger had been as much as , centals, but, with the war and excessive supply, the price had gone down, and in the year he wrote ( ) only , centals had been harvested. he informs us, too, that cacáo had been planted in sufficient quantity to send ship-loads to spain within four years. the number of hides annually exported to spain was , to , . tobacco had begun to be cultivated within the last ten years, and its exportation had commenced. he pronounces it better than the tobacco of havana, santo domingo, and margarita, but not as good as that of barinas. the cultivation of tobacco in puerto rico was permitted by a special law in , but the sale of it to foreigners was prohibited _under penalty of death and confiscation of property._[ ] these and other stringent measures dictated in and by their very severity defeated their own purpose, and the laws, to a great extent, remained a dead letter. the cultivation of cacáo in puerto rico did not prosper for the reason that the plant takes a long time in coming to maturity, and during that period is exceedingly sensible to the effects of strong winds, which, in this island, prevail from july to october. the first plantations being destroyed by hurricanes, few new plantations were made. of the other staple products of puerto rico, the most valuable, coffee, was first planted in martinique in by m. declieux, who brought the seeds from the botanical garden in paris. the coco-palm was introduced by diego lorenzo, a canon in the cape de verde islands, who also brought the first guinea-fowls; and, possibly, the plantain species known in this island under the name of "guinéo" came from the same part of the world. according to oviedo, it was first planted in santo domingo in by a monk named berlangas. abbad gives the detailed agricultural statistics of the island in , from which it appears that the cultivation of the new articles introduced was general at the time, and that, under the influence of climate and abundant pastures, the animal industry had become one of the principal sources of wealth for the inhabitants. there were in that year , farms, and cattle-ranches (hatos). on the farms or estates there were under cultivation: sugar-cane , cuerdas[ ] plantains , " coffee-trees , , cotton-plants , on the cattle-ranches there were: head of horned cattle , horses , mules , asses, swine, goats, and sheep , this was a comparatively large capital in stock and produce for a population of , souls, but the reverend historian severely criticizes the agricultural population of that day, and says of them: " ... they scarcely know what implements are; ... they bring down a tree, principally by means of fire; with a saber, which they call a 'machete,' they clear the jungle and clean the ground; with the point of this machete, or a pointed stick, they dig the holes or furrows in which they set their plants or sow their seeds. thus they provide for their subsistence, and when a hurricane or other mishap destroys their crops, they supply their wants by fishing or collect edible roots. "indolence, rather than want of means, makes them confine their cultivation to the level lands, which they abandon as soon as they perceive that the fertility of the soil decreases, which happens very soon, because they do not plow, nor do they turn over the soil, much less manure it, so that the superficies soon becomes sterile; then they make a clearing on some mountainside. neither the knowledge of the soil and climate acquired during many years of residence, nor the increased facilities for obtaining the necessary agricultural implements, nor the large number of cattle they possess that could be used for agricultural purposes, nor the government's dispositions to improve the system of cultivation, have been sufficient to make these islanders abandon the indolence with which they regard the most important of all arts, and the first obligation imposed by god on man--namely, the cultivation of the soil. they leave this to the slaves, who are few and ill-fed, and know no more of agriculture than their masters do; ... their great laziness, together with a silly, baseless vanity, makes them look upon all manual labor as degrading, proper only for slaves, and so they prefer poverty to doing honest work. to this must be added their ambition to make rapid fortunes, as some of them do, by contraband trading, which makes good sailors of them but bad agriculturists. "these are the reasons why they prefer the cultivation of produce that requires little labor. most proprietors have a small portion of their land planted with cane, but few have made it their principal crop, because of the expense of erecting a mill and the greater number of slaves and implements required; yet this industry alone, if properly fostered, would soon remove all obstacles to their progress. "it is useless, therefore, to look for gardens and orchards in a country where the plow is yet unknown, and which has not even made the first step in agricultural development." * * * * * under the royal decree of commerce, both foreign and inland, rapidly developed. from the official returns made to the government in to , colonel flinter drew up the following statement of the agricultural wealth of the island in the latter year ( ): wooden sugar-cane mills , iron sugar-cane mills coffee estates with machinery stills for distilling rum brick ovens lime kilns _land under cultivation_ cane , acres. plantains , " rice , " maize , " tobacco , " manioc , " sweet potatoes , " yams , " pulse , " horticulture " coffee-plants , acres , , cotton-trees , " , , coco-palms , " , orange-trees , " , aguacate-trees , " , pepper or chilli or aji trees the live stock of the island in the same year consisted of: cows , head. bulls , " oxen , " horses , " mares , " asses " mules , " sheep , " goats , " swine , " turkeys , " other fowls , " this agricultural wealth of the island, houses, lands, and slaves _not_ included, was valued at $ , , , and its annual produce at $ , , , half of which was exported. these statistics may be considered as only _approximately correct,_ as the returns made by the proprietors to the government, in order to escape taxation, were less than the real numbers existing. the natural wealth of puerto rico may be divided into agricultural, pastoral, and sylvan. according to the spanish government measurements the island's area is , , english acres. of these, there were under cultivation in , as above detailed , acres. in pastures , " in forests , " ------------ total _tax-paying lands_ , , " the pasture lands on the north and east coasts are equal to the best lands of the kind in the west indies for the breeding and fattening of cattle. on the south coast excessive droughts often parch the grass, in which case the cattle are fed on cane-tops at harvest time. there are excellent and nutritive native grasses of different species to be found in every valley. the cattle bred in the island are generally tame. from to was the era of greatest prosperity ever experienced in puerto rico under spanish rule. the land was not yet exhausted, harvests were abundant, labor cheap, the quality of the sugar produced was excellent, prices were high, contributions and taxes were moderate. there were no export duties, and although, during this period, the growing manufacture of beet-root sugar was lowering the price of "mascabado" all over the world, no effect was felt in puerto rico, because it was the nearest market to the united states, where the civil war had put an end to the annual product by the southern states of half a million bocoyes,[ ] or about , , gallons; and the abolition of all import duties on sugar in england also favored the maintenance of high prices for a number of years. however, the production of beet-root sugar and the increase of cane cultivation in the east[ ] caused the fall in prices which, in combination with the numberless oppressive restrictions imposed by the spanish government, brought puerto rico to the verge of ruin. "the misfortunes that afflict us," says mr. james mccormick to the provincial deputation in his official report on the condition of the sugar industry in this island in , "come under different forms from different directions, and _every inhabitant knows what causes have contributed to reduce this island, once prosperous and happy, to its actual condition of prostration and anguish_." that condition he paints in the following words: "mechanical arts and industries languish because there is no demand or profitable market for its products; commerce is paralyzed by the obstacles placed in its way; the country never has had sufficient capital and what there is hides itself or is withdrawn from circulation; foreign capital has been frightened away; puerto rican landowners are looked upon with special disfavor and credit is denied them, unfortunately with good reason, seeing the lamentable condition of our agriculture. the production of sugar scarcely amounts to half of what it was in former years. from the year a great proportion of the existing sugar estates have fallen to ruin; in districts their number has been reduced from to , and of these the majority are in an agonizing condition. in other parts of the island many estates, in which large capitals in machinery, drainage, etc., have been invested, have been abandoned and the land is returning to its primitive condition of jungle and swamp. ten years ago the island exported , tons of sugar annually, the product of mills; during the last three years ( - ) the average export has been , tons, the product of mills that have been able to continue working. everywhere in this province the evidences of the ruin which has overtaken the planters meet the eye, and nothing is heard but the lamentations of proprietors reduced to misery and desperation." this state of things continued notwithstanding the representations made before the "high spheres of government" by the leading men in commerce and agriculture, by the press of all political colors, and by congress. the minister of ultramar in madrid recognized the gravity of the situation, and it is said that the lamentations of the people of puerto rico found an echo even at the foot of the throne. and there they died. nothing was done to remedy the growing evil, and the writer of the pamphlet, not daring openly to accuse the government as the only cause of the island's desperate situation, counsels patience, and timidly expresses the hope that the exorbitant taxes and contributions will be lowered; that economy in the government expenditures will be practised; that monopolies will be abolished, and odious, oppressive practises of all kinds be discontinued. such was the condition of puerto rico in . the government's oppressive practises, and they only, were the causes of the ruin of this and all the other rich and beautiful colonies that destiny laid at the feet of ferdinand and isabel four centuries ago. the following statement of the proportion of sugar to each acre of land under cane cultivation in the antilles, compared with puerto rico, may be of interest. the computation of the average sugar produce per acre, according to the best and most correct information from intelligent planters, who had no motives for deception, was, in :[ ] for jamaica centals per acre. dominica " " granada " " st. vincent " " tobago " " antigua - " " saint kitts " " puerto rico " " footnotes: [footnote : leyes de indias, ley iv, libro iv, titulo xviii.] [footnote : the actual cuerda is a square of varas each side, about one-tenth less than an acre. abbad understood by a cuerda a rectangle of varas front by , varas depth, that is, cuerdas superficies of those actually in use.--_acosta._] [footnote : the bocoy in puerto rico, equal from to centals of sugar, according the quality.] [footnote : british india produced about that time over , , tons of cane-sugar per annum.] [footnote : colonel flinter, an account of the island of puerto rico. london, ] chapter xxxiv commerce and finances until the year the captains-general of puerto rico had the superintendence of the revenues. the capital was the only authorized port open to commerce. no regular books were kept by the authorities. a day-book of duties paid and expended was all that was considered necessary. merchandise was smuggled in at every part of the coast,[ ] the treasury chest was empty, and the government officers and troops were reduced to a very small portion of their pay. the total revenues of the island, including the old-established taxes and contributions, produced , pesos, and half of that sum was never recovered on account of the abuses and dishonesty that had been introduced in the system of collection. an intendancy was deemed necessary, and the home government appointed alexander ramirez to the post in february, . he promptly introduced important reforms in the administration, and caused regular accounts to be kept. he made ample and liberal concessions to commerce, opened five additional ports with custom-houses, freed agriculture from the trammels that had impeded its development, and placed labor, instruments, seeds, and modern machinery within its reach. he printed and distributed short essays or manuals on the cultivation of different products and the systems adopted by other nations, promoted the immigration of canary islanders, founded the royal economic society of friends of the country, and edited the diario económico de puerto rico, the first number of which appeared february , . the first year after the establishment of these improvements, notwithstanding the abolition of some of the most onerous taxes, the revenues of the capital rose to $ , , and the new custom-houses produced $ , . having placed this island's financial administration on a sound basis, ramirez was called upon by the government to perform the same valuable services for cuba. unfortunately, his successors here soon destroyed the good effects of his measures by continual variations in the system, and in the commercial tariffs. they attempted to prevent smuggling by increasing the duties, the very means of encouraging contraband trade, and the old mismanagement and malversations in the custom-houses revived. one intendant, often from a mere spirit of innovation, applied to the court for a decree canceling the regulations of his predecessor, so that, from the concurring effects of contraband and mismanagement, commerce suffered, and the country became once more impoverished. the revenues fell so low and the malversation of public money reached such a height that the captain-general found it necessary in to charge the military commanders of the respective districts with the prevention of smuggling. he placed supervisors of known intelligence and probity in each custom-house to watch and prevent fraud and peculation. these measures almost doubled the amount of revenue in the following year ( ). as late as the imports in puerto rico exceeded three times the sum of the produce exported. the difference was made up by the "situados," or remittances in cash from mexico, which began early in the seventeenth century, when the repeated attacks on the island by french and english privateers forced the spanish government to choose between losing the island or fortifying it. the king chose the latter, and made an assignment on the royal treasury of mexico of nearly half a million pesos per annum. with these subsidies all the fortifications were constructed and the garrison and civil and military employees were paid, till the insurrection in mexico put a stop to the fall of this pecuniary manna. it was fortunate for puerto rico that it ceased. the people of the island had become so accustomed to look to this supply of money for the purchase of their necessities that they entirely neglected the development of the rich resources in their fertile soil. when a remittance arrived in due time, all was joy and animation; when it was delayed, as was often the case, all was gloom and silence, and recourse was had to "papeletas," a temporary paper currency or promises to pay. with the cessation of the "situados" the scanty resources of the treasury soon gave out. the funds of the churches were first requisitioned; then the judicial deposits, the property of people who had died in the peninsula, and other unclaimed funds were attached; next, donations and private loans were solicited, and when all these expedients were exhausted, the final resort of bankrupt communities, paper money, was adopted ( ). then puerto rico's poverty became extreme. in there was at least half a million paper money in circulation with a depreciation of per cent. to avoid absolute ruin, the intendant had recourse to the introduction of what were called "macuquinos," or pieces of rudely cut, uncoined silver of inferior alloy, representing approximately the value of the coin that each piece of metal stood for. with these he redeemed in all the paper money that had been put in circulation; but the emergency money gave rise to agioist speculation and remained the currency long after it had served its purpose. it was not replaced by spanish national coin till . the royal decree of , and the improvements in the financial situation, as a result of the new administrative system established by ramirez, gave a strong impulse to foreign commerce. though commerce with the mother country remained in a languishing condition, because the so-called "decree of graces" had fixed the import duty on spanish merchandise at per cent _ad valorem_, while the valuations which the custom-house officials made exceeded the market prices to such an extent that many articles really paid per cent and some , , and even per cent. an estimate of the commerce of this island about the year divides the total imports and exports which, in that year, amounted to $ , , among the following nations: per cent. per cent. west indian islands imports - exports united states imports - " spanish imports - " english imports - " - french imports - " - other nations' imports - " - the american trade at that time formed nearly one-third of the whole of the value of the imports and nearly half of all the exports. an american consul resided at the capital and all the principal ports had deputy consuls. the articles of importation from the united states were principally timber, staves for sugar-casks, flour and other provisions, and furniture.[ ] * * * * * the financial history of puerto rico commences about the middle of the eighteenth century. in the revenues amounted to , pesos. in , to , , and in to , . their increase up to , , in was due to the natural development of the island's resources, which accompanied the increase of population; yet financial distress was chronic all the time, and not a year passed without the application of the supposed panacea of royal decrees and ordinances, without the expected improvement. from to , for the first time in the island's history, there happened to be a surplus revenue. the authorities wasted it in an attempt to reannex santo domingo and in contributions toward the expenses of the war in morocco. the balance was used by the spanish minister of ultramar, the government being of opinion that surpluses in colonial treasuries were a source of danger. to avoid a plethora of money contributions were asked for in the name of patriotism, which nobody dared refuse, and which were, therefore, always liberally responded to. of this class was a contribution of half a million pesos toward the expenses of the war with the carlists to secure the succession of isabel ii, and sunday collections for the benefit of the spanish soldiers in cuba, for the sufferers by the inundations in murcia, the earthquakes in andalusia, etc. from to a series of laws and ordinances relating to finances were promulgated. february d, a royal decree admitted mexican silver coin as currency. december , , another royal decree reformed the financial administration of the island. this was followed in by instructions for the collection of personal contributions. in the intendant alcázar published the regulations for the imposition, collection, and administration of the land tax; from to another series of laws, ordinances, and decrees appeared for the collection and administration of different taxes and contributions, and october , , another royal decree withdrew the mexican coin from circulation. in the same year (march th) the reform laws were promulgated, which were followed in the next year by the municipal law.[ ] in the meantime commerce languished. the excessively high export duties on island produce imposed by governor sanz in to brought , pesos per annum into the treasury, but ruined agriculture, and this lasted till the end of spanish rule. the directory of the official chamber of commerce, industry, and navigation of san juan, at the general meeting of members in , reported that it had occupied itself during that year, through the medium of the island's representative in cortes, with the promised tariff reform, but without result. nor had its endeavors to obtain the exchange of the mexican coin still in circulation for peninsular money been successful on account of the opposition of those interested in the maintenance of the system. the abolition of the so-called "conciertos" of matches and petroleum had also occupied them, and in this case successfully; but the directors complained of the apathy and the indifference of the public in general for the objects which the chamber of commerce was organized to advocate and promote, and they state that within the last year the number of associates had diminished. the directors' report of january, , was even more gloomy. they complain of the want of interest in their proceedings on the part of many of the leading commercial houses, of the lamentable condition of commerce, of the inattention of their "mother," spain, to the plausible pretentions of this her daughter, animated though she was by the most fervent patriotism. footnotes: [footnote : rafael conty, subdelegate of the treasury of aguadilla, sailed round the island in a sloop in and confiscated eleven vessels engaged in smuggling.] [footnote : for commercial statistics of puerto rico from to , see señor acosta's interesting notes to chapter xxviii of abbad's history.] [footnote : _vide_ reseña del estado social, económico é industrial de la isla de puerto rico por el dr. cayetano coll y toste, .] chapter xxxv education in puerto rico in chapter xxiii of this history we gave an extract from his excellency alexander o'reilly's report to king charles iv, wherein, referring to the intellectual status of the inhabitants of puerto rico in , he informs his majesty that there were only two schools in the whole island and that, outside of the capital and san german, few knew how to read. in the mother country, at that period, even primary instruction was very deficient. it remained so for a long time. as late as reading, writing, and arithmetic only were taught in the best public schools of spain. the other branches of knowledge, such as geography, history, physics, chemistry, natural history, could be studied in a few ecclesiastical educational establishments.[ ] the illiteracy of the inhabitants of this, the least important of spain's conquered provinces, was therefore but natural, seeing that the conquerors who had settled in it belonged to the most ignorant classes of an illiterate country in an illiterate age. something was done in puerto rico by the dominican and franciscan friars in the way of preparatory training for ecclesiastical callings. they taught latin and philosophy to a limited number of youths; the bishop himself gave regular instruction in latin. a few youths, whose parents could afford it, were sent to the universities of carácas and santo domingo, where some of them distinguished themselves by their aptitude for study. one of these, afterward known as father bonilla, obtained the highest academic honors in santo domingo. from to , under the auspices of a constitutional government, intellectual life in puerto rico really began. a mr. louis santiago called public attention to the necessity of attending to primary education. "the greatest evil," he said, "that which demands the speediest remedy, is the general ignorance of the art of reading and writing. it is painful to see the signatures of the alcaldes to public documents." he wrote a pamphlet of instructions in the art of teaching in primary schools, which was printed and distributed through the interior of the island. the governor, gonzalo arostegui, addressed an official note to the provincial deputation charging that body to propose to him "without rest or interruption, and as soon as possible," the means to establish primary schools in the capital and in the towns of the interior; to the municipalities he sent a circular, dated september , , recommending them to facilitate the coming to the capital of the teachers in their respective districts who wished to attend, for a period of two months, a class in the lancasterian method of primary teaching, to be held in the normal school by ramon carpegna, the political secretary. a certain amount of instruction, talent, and disposition for magisterial work was required of the pupils, and those who already had positions as teachers could assist at the two months' course without detriment to their salaries. the fall of the constitutional government in spain, brought about by french intervention and the reaction that followed, extinguished the light that had just begun to shine, and this unfortunate island was again plunged into the intellectual darkness of the middle ages. persecution became fiercer than ever, and the citizens most distinguished for their learning and liberal ideas had to seek safety in emigration. for the next twenty years the education of the youth of puerto rico was entirely in the hands of the clergy. with the legacies left to the church by bishop arizmendi and other pious defuncts, bishop pedro gutierrez de cos founded the conciliar seminary in , and appointed as rector friar angel de la concepción vazquez, a puerto rican by birth, educated in the franciscan convent of carácas. in the same year there came to puerto rico, as prebendary of the cathedral, an ex-professor of experimental physics in the university of galicia, whose name was rufo fernandez. he founded a cabinet of physics and a chemical laboratory, and invited the youth of the capital to attend the lectures on these two sciences which he gave gratis. fray angel, as he was familiarly called, the rector of the seminary, at dr. rufo's suggestion, asked permission of the superior ecclesiastical authorities to transfer the latter's cabinet and laboratory to the seminary for the purpose of adding the courses of physics and chemistry to the curriculum, but failed to obtain it, the reasons given for the adverse decision being, "that the science of chemistry was unnecessary for the students, who, in accordance with the dispositions of the council of trent, were to dedicate themselves to ecclesiastical sciences only." the rector, while expressing his regret at the decision, adds: "i can not help telling you what i have always felt--namely, that there is some malediction resting on the education of youth in this island, which evokes formidable obstacles from every side, though there are not wanting generous spirits ready to make sacrifices in its favor." [ ] some of these generous spirits had organized, as early as , under the auspices of intendant ramirez, the economic society of friends of the country. puerto rico owes almost all its intellectual progress to this society. its aim was the island's moral and material advancement, and, in spite of obstacles, it has nobly labored with that object in view to the end of spanish domination. from its very inception it established a primary school for poor girls, and classes in mathematics, geography, french, english, and drawing, to which a class of practical or applied mechanics was added later. in the society asked and obtained permission from the governor, the count of mirasol, to solicit subscriptions for the establishment and endowment of a central college. the people responded with enthusiasm, and in less than a month , pesos were collected. the college was opened. in four youths, under the guidance of dr. rufo, were sent to spain to complete their studies to enable them to worthily fill professorships in the central school. two of them died shortly after their arrival in madrid. when the other two returned to puerto rico in they found the college closed and the subscriptions for its maintenance returned to the donors by order of juan de la pezuela, count mirasol's successor in the governorship. if the unfavorable opinion of the character of the puerto ricans to which this personage gave expression in one of his official communications was the motive for his proceeding in this case, it would seem that he changed it toward the end of his administration, for he founded a royal academy of belles-lettres, and a library which was provided with books by occasional gifts from the public. he introduced some useful reforms in the system of primary instruction, and inaugurated the first prize competitions for poetical compositions by native authors. from the returns of the census of it appears that at that time only - per cent of the male population of the island knew how to read, and only - per cent of the female population. four years later, at the end of there were, according to official data, , families in puerto rico whose intellectual wants were supplied by public schools for boys and for girls, besides and private schools for boys and girls respectively. in general norzagery, then governor, assisted by andres viña, the secretary of the royal board of commerce and industry, had founded a school of commerce, agriculture, and navigation. after sixteen years of existence, this establishment was unfavorably reported upon by governor sanz, who wished to suppress it on account of the liberal ideas and autonomist tendencies of its two principal professors, josé julian acosta (abbad's commentator) and ramon b. castro. in the preamble to a secret report sent by this governor to madrid he says: "this supreme civil government has always secured professors who, in addition to the required ability for their position, possess the moral and political character and qualities to form citizens, lovers of their country, i.e., lovers of puerto rico as a spanish province, _not of puerto rico as an independent state annexed to north america_." female education had all along received even less attention than the education of boys. alexander infiesta, in an article on the subject published in the revista in february, , states, that according to the latest census there were , females in the island, of whom , could neither read nor write, , of them being white women and girls. the number of schools for boys was , with an attendance of , , and that for girls , with , pupils. from the memorial published by the director of the provincial institute for secondary education, regarding the courses of study in that establishment during the year -' , we learn that the number of primary schools in the island had increased to , but, according to mr. coll y toste's reseña, published in , there were, among a total population of , souls, only primary schools in the island at the time of the american occupation. the total attendance was , pupils, , boys and , girls. footnotes: [footnote : see franco del valle atilés, causas del atras intellectual del campesino puertoriqueño. revista puertoriqueña, año ii, tomo ii, p. .] [footnote : letter to dr. rufo fernandez from fray angel de la concepcion vazquez. see acosta's notes to abbad's history, pp. , , foot note.] chapter xxxvi libraries and the press books for the people were considered by the spanish colonial authorities to be of the nature of inflammable or explosive substances, which it was not safe to introduce freely. from their point of view, they were right. the droits de l'homme of jean jacques rousseau, for example, translated into every european language, had added more volunteers of all nationalities to the ranks of the spanish-american patriots than was generally supposed--and so, books and printing material were subjected to the payment of high import duties, and a series of annoying formalities, among which the passing of the political and ecclesiastical censors was the most formidable. the result among the poorer classes of natives was blank illiteracy. a pall of profound ignorance hung over the island, and although, with the revival of letters in the seventeenth century the light of intellect dawned over western europe, not a ray of it was permitted to reach the spanish colonies. the ruling class, every individual of whom came from the peninsula, kept what books each individual possessed to themselves. to the people all learning, except such as it was considered safe to impart, was forbidden fruit. under these conditions it is not strange that the idea of founding public libraries did not germinate in the minds of the more intelligent among the puerto ricans till the middle of the nineteenth century; whereas, the other colonies that had shaken off their allegiance to the mother country, had long since entered upon the road of intellectual progress with resolute step. collegiate libraries, however, had existed in the capital of the island as early as the sixteenth century. the first of which we have any tradition was founded by the dominican friars in their convent. it contained works on art, literature, and theology. the next library was formed in the episcopal palace, or "casa parochial," by bishop don bernardo de valbuena, poet and author of a pastoral novel entitled the golden age, and other works of literary merit. this library, together with that of the dominicans, and the respective episcopal and conventual archives were burned by the hollanders during the siege of san juan in . the franciscan friars also had a library in their convent ( ). the books disappeared at the time of the community's dissolution in . bishop pedro gutierres de cos, who founded the san juan conciliar seminary in , established a library in connection with it, the remains of which are still extant in the old seminary building, but much neglected and worm-eaten. a library of a semipublic character was founded by royal order dated june , , shortly after the installation of the audiencia in san juan. it was a large and valuable collection of books on juridical subjects, which remained under the care of a salaried librarian till , when it was amalgamated with the library of the college of lawyers. this last is a rich collection of works on jurisprudence, and the exclusive property of the college, but accessible to professional men. the library is in the former audiencia building, now occupied by the insular courts. the period from to appears to have been one of greatest intellectual activity in puerto rico. toward its close juan de la pezuela, the governor, founded the royal academy of belles-lettres, an institution of literary and pedagogical character, with the functions of a normal school. it was endowed with a modest library, but it only lived till the year , when, in consequence of disagreement between the founder and the professors, the school was closed and the library passed into the possession of the economic society of friends of the country. this, and the library of the royal academy, which the society had also acquired, formed a small but excellent nucleus, and with, the produce of the public subscription of it was enabled to stock its library with many of the best standard works of the time in spanish and french, and open to the puerto ricans of all classes the doors of the first long-wished-for public library. since then it has contributed in no small degree to the enlightenment of the better part of the laboring classes in the capital, till it was closed at the commencement of the war. during the transition period the books were transferred from one locality to another, and in the process the best works disappeared, until the island's first civil governor, charles h. allen, at the suggestion of commissioner of education martin g. brumbaugh, rescued the remainder and made it the nucleus of the first _american_ free library. the second puerto rican public library was opened by don ramon santaella, october , , in the basement of the town hall. it began with volumes, and possesses to-day , literary and didactic books in different languages. the puerto rican atheneum library was established in . its collection of books, consisting principally of spanish and french literature, is an important one, both in numbers and quality. it has been enriched by accessions of books from the library of the extinct society of friends of the country. it is open to members of the atheneum only, or to visitors introduced by them. the casino español possesses a small but select library with a comfortable reading-room. its collection of books and periodicals is said to be the richest and most varied in the island. it was founded in . the religious association known under the name of conferences of st. vincent de paul had a small circulating library of religious works duly approved by the censors. the congregation was broken up in and the library disappeared. the provincial institute of secondary education, which was located in the building now occupied by the free library and legislature, possessed a small pedagogical library which shared the same fate as that of the society of friends of the country. the spanish public works department possessed another valuable collection of books, mostly on technical and scientific subjects. a number of books on other than technical subjects, probably from the extinct libraries just referred to, have been added to the original collection, and the whole, to the number of , volumes in excellent condition, exist under the care of the chief of the public works department. besides the above specified libraries of a public and collegiate character, there are some private collections of books in the principal towns of the island. chief among these is the collection of don fernando juncos, of san juan, which contains , volumes of classic and preceptive literature and social and economic science, , volumes of which bear the author's autographs. the desire for intellectual improvement began to manifest itself in the interior of the island a few years after the establishment of the first public library in the capital. the municipality of ponce founded a library in . it contains bound volumes and pamphlets in english, german, french, and spanish, many of them duplicates. the general condition of the books is bad, and the location of the library altogether unsuitable. there was a municipal appropriation of pesos per annum for library purposes, but since it has not been available. mayaguez founded its public library in . it possesses over , volumes, with a small archeological and natural history museum attached to it. some of the smaller towns also felt the need of intellectual expansion, and tried to supply it by the establishment of reading-rooms. arecibo, véga-baja, toa-alta, yauco, cabo-rojo, aguadilla, humacáo, and others made efforts in this direction either through their municipalities or private initiative. a few only succeeded, but they did not outlive the critical times that commenced with the war, aggravated by the hurricane of august, . * * * * * since the american occupation of the island, four public libraries have been established. two of them are exclusively spanish, the circulating scholastic library, inaugurated in san juan on february , , by don pedro carlos timothe, and the circulating scholastic library of yauco, established a month later under the auspices of s. egózene of that town. the two others are, one, largely english, the pedagogical library, established under the auspices of the commissioner of education, and the san juan free library, to which mr. andrew carnegie has given $ , , and which is polyglot, and was formally opened to the public april , . there is also a growing number of libraries in the public schools. from the above data it appears that, owing to the peculiar conditions that obtained in this island, the people of puerto rico were very slow in joining the movement of intellectual expansion which began in spanish america in the eighteenth century. they did so at last, unaided and with their own limited resources, even before the obstacles placed in their way by the government were removed. if they have not achieved more, it is because within the last few decades the island has been unfortunate in more than one respect. now that a new era has dawned, it may reasonably be expected that the increased opportunities for intellectual development afforded them will be duly appreciated and taken advantage of by the people, and if we may judge from the eagerness with which the youth of the capital reads the books of the san juan free library, it seems clear that the seed so recently sown has fallen in fruitful soil. * * * * * the history of the press in puerto rico is short. the first printing machine was introduced by the government in for the purpose of publishing the official gazette. no serious attempt at publication of any periodical for the people was made till the commencement of the second constitutional period ( -' ), when, for the first time in the island's history, public affairs could be discussed without the risk of imprisonment or banishment. the right of association was also recognized. the society of liberal lovers of the country and the society of lovers of science were formed about this time. the investigator and the constitutional gazette were published and gave food for nightly discussions on political and social questions in the coffee-house on the marina. the period of freedom of spoken and written thought was short, but an impulse had been given which could not be arrested. in there were eight periodicals published in the island. on september th of that year a law regulating the publication of newspapers indirectly suppressed half of them. it contained twenty articles, each more stringent than the other. to obtain a license to publish or to continue publishing a paper, a deposit of , crowns had to be made to cover the fines that were almost sure to be imposed. the publications were subject to the strictest censorship. they could not appear till the proofs of each article had been signed by the censor, and the whole process of printing and publishing was fenced in by such minute and annoying regulations, the smallest infraction of which was punished by such heavy fines that it was a marvel how any paper could be published under such conditions. these conditions were relaxed a decade or two later, and a number of publications sprang into existence at once. when the united states government took possession of the island, there were periodicals published in san juan, in ponce, in mayaguez, in humacáo, and a few others in different towns of the interior. chapter xxxvii the regular and secular clergy in catholic countries the monastic orders constitute the regular clergy. the secular clergy is not bound by monastic rules. both classes exercise their functions independently, the former under the authority of their respective superiors or generals, the latter under the bishops. when, after the return of columbus from his first voyage, the existence of a new world was demonstrated and preparations for occupying it were made, the pope, to assure the christianization of the inhabitants, gave to the monks of all orders who wished to go the privilege, pertaining till then to the secular clergy exclusively, of administering parishes and collecting tithes without subjection to the authority of the bishops. the dominicans and the franciscans availed themselves of this privilege at once. there was rivalry for power and influence between these two orders from the time of their first installation, and they carried their quarrels with them to america, where their differences of opinion regarding the enslaving and treatment of the indians embittered them still more. the dominicans secured a footing in santo domingo and in puerto rico almost to the exclusion of their rivals, notwithstanding the king's recommendation to ceron in to build a monastery for franciscans, whose doctrines he considered "salutary." [illustration: san francisco church, san juan; the oldest church in the city.] puerto rico was scantily provided with priests till the year , when the treasurer, haro, wrote to cardinal cisneros: "there are no priests in the granges as has been commanded; only one in capárra, and one in san german. the island is badly served. send us a goodly number of priests or permission to pay them out of the produce of the tithes." the "goodly number of priests" was duly provided. immediately after the transfer of the capital to its present site in , the dominicans began the construction of a convent, which was nearly completed in , when there were friars in it. they had acquired great influence over bishop manso, and obtained many privileges and immunities from him. bishop bastidas, manso's successor, was less favorably disposed toward them, and demanded payment of tithes of the produce of their agricultural establishments. he reported to the king in : "there is a dominican monastery here large enough for a city of , inhabitants,[ ] and there are many friars in it. they possess farms, cattle, negroes, indians, and are building horse-power sugar-mills; meanwhile, i know that they are asking your majesty for alms to finish their church ... it were better to oblige them to sell their estates and live in poverty as prescribed by the rules of their order." the franciscans came to puerto rico in , but founded no convent till , when one of their order, nicolas ramos, was appointed to the see of san juan. then they established themselves in "la aguáda," and named the settlement san francisco de asis. two years later it was destroyed by the caribs, and five of the brothers martyrized. no attempt at reconstruction of the convent was made. the order abandoned the island and did not return till , when they obtained the pope's license to establish themselves in the capital. like the dominicans, they soon acquired considerable wealth. the privilege of administering parishes and collecting tithes, which was the principal source of monastic revenues, was canceled by royal schedule june , . the monks continued in the full enjoyment of their property till , when all the property of the regular clergy throughout the peninsula and the colonies was expropriated by the government. in this island the convents were appropriated only after long and tedious judicial proceedings, in which the government demonstrated that the transfer was necessary for the public good. then the convents were used--that of the dominicans as audiencia hall, that of the franciscans as artillery barracks. the intendancy took charge of the administration of the estate of the two communities, the mortmain was canceled, and the transfer duly legalized. a promised indemnity to the two brotherhoods was never paid, but in a sum of , pesos annually was added to the insular budget, to be paid to the clergy as compensation for the expropriated estate of the dominicans in san german. succeeding political events prevented the payment of this also. the last representatives in this island of the two dispossessed orders died in san juan about the year . bishop monserrate made an effort to reestablish the order of franciscans in -' . only three brothers came to the island and they, not liking the aspect of affairs, went to south america. * * * * * the first head of the secular clergy in puerto rico was nominated in . the catholic princes besought pope julius ii to make it a bishopric, and recommended as its first prelate alonzo manso, canon of salamanca, doctor in theology, a man held in high esteem at court. his holiness granted the request, and designated the whole of the island as the diocese, with the principal settlement in it as the see. the subsequent conquests on the mainland kept adding vast territories to this diocese till, toward the end of the eighteenth century, it included the whole region extending from the upper orinoco to the amazon, and from guiana to the plains of bogotá. manso's successors repeatedly represented to the king the absolute impossibility of attending to the spiritual wants of "the lambs that were continually added to the flock." they requested that the see might be transferred to the mainland or that the diocese might be divided in two or more. this was done in , when the diocese of guiana was created, and puerto rico with the island of vieyques remained as the original one. the bishop came to san juan in , and at once began to dispose all that was necessary to give splendor and good government to the first episcopal seat in america. unfortunately, he arrived at a time when dissension, strife, and immorality were rampant; and when it became known that he was authorized to collect his tithes _in specie_, the opposition of the quarrelsome and insubordinate inhabitants became so violent that the prelate could not exercise his functions, and was forced to return to the peninsula in . he came back in , invested with the powers of a provincial inquisitor, which he exercised till , when he died and was buried in the cathedral, where a monument with an alabaster effigy marked his tomb till , when it was destroyed by the hollanders. rodrigo bastidas, a native of santo domingo, was manso's successor. he was appointed bishop of coro in venezuela in , but solicited and obtained the see of puerto rico in . he was a man of great capacity, virtuous and benevolent. he advised the suppression of the inquisition, asked the government for facilities to educate the youth and advance the agricultural interests of his diocese, and commenced the construction of the cathedral. he died in santo domingo in , very old and very rich. friar diego de salamanca, of the order of augustines, succeeded bastidas. he continued the construction of the cathedral, but soon returned to the metropolis, leaving the diocese to the care of the vicar-general, santa olaya, till , when the franciscan friar nicolas bamos was appointed to the see. he was the last bishop of puerto rico who united the functions of inquisitor with those of the episcopate, and a zealous burner of heretics. after him the see remained vacant for fourteen years; since then, to the end of the eighteenth century there were consecrated prelates, of whom renounced, or for some other reason did not take possession. the most distinguished among the remaining were: bernardo balbuena, poet and author, -' ; friar manuel gimenez perez, pious, active, and philanthropist, -' ; and juan alejo arismendi, who, according to the latin inscription on his tomb, was an amiable, religious, upright, zealous, compassionate, learned, decorous, active, leading, benevolent, paternal man. of the rest little more is known than their names and the dates of their assumption of office and demise. * * * * * the year was, for the secular clergy, one of anxiety for the safety of their long and assiduously accumulated wealth. the members to the number of individuals, including the bishop, drew annual stipends from the insular treasury to the amount of , pesos, besides which they possessed and still possess a capital of over one and a half millions of pesos, represented by: . vacant chaplaincies. . investments under the head ecclesiastical chapter. . idem for account of the carmelite sisterhood. . legacies to saints for the purpose of celebrating masses and processions in all the parishes of the island. . pious donations. . fraternities and religious associations for the worship of some special saint. . revenues from an institution known by the name of third orders. . capital invested by the founders of the hospital of the conception, the income of which is mostly consumed by the nuns of that order. and . the ecclesiastical revenues of different kinds in san german. all this was put in jeopardy by the following decree: "doña isabel ii, by the grace of god and the constitution of the spanish monarchy, queen of spain, and during her minority baldomero espartero, duke of 'la victoria' and morella, regent of the kingdom, to all who these presents may see and understand, makes known that the cortes have decreed, and we have sanctioned, as follows: "article i. all properties of the secular clergy of whatever class; rights or shares of whatever origin or denomination they may be, or for whatever application or purpose they may have been given, bought, or acquired, are national properties. "art. ii. the properties, rights, and shares corresponding in any manner to ecclesiastical unions or fraternities, are also national properties. "art. iii. all estates, rights, and shares of the cathedral, collegiate and parochial clergy and ecclesiastical unions and fraternities referred to in the preceding articles, are hereby declared _for sale_." * * * * * the articles that follow specify the properties in detail, the manner of sale, the disposition of the products, administration of rents, etc. the law was not carried into effect. espartero, very popular at first, by adopting the principles of the progressist party, forfeited the support of the conservatives--that is, of the clerical party, and the man is not born yet who can successfully introduce into spain a radical reform of the nature of the one he sanctioned with his signature september , . from that moment his overthrow was certain. narvaez headed the revolution against him, his own officers and men abandoned him, and on july , , he wrote his farewell manifesto to the nation on board a british ship of war. footnotes: [footnote : san juan had only about "vecinos"--that is, white people.] chapter xxxviii the inquisition - bishop manso, on his arrival in , found puerto rico in a state bordering on anarchy, and after vain attempts to check the prevalent immorality and establish the authority of the church, he returned to spain in . the account he gave cardinal cisneros of the island's condition suggested to the grand inquisitor the obvious remedy of clothing the bishop with the powers of provincial inquisitor, which he did. diego torres vargas, the canon of the san juan cathedral, says in his memoirs: "manso was made inquisitor, and he, being the first, may be said to have been the inquisitor-general of the indies; ... the delinquents were brought from all parts to be burned and punished here ... the inquisition building exists till this day ( ), and until the coming of the hollanders in many sambenitos could be seen in the cathedral hung up behind the choir." these "sambenitos" were sacks of coarse yellow cloth with a large red cross on them, and figures of devils and instruments of torture among the flames of hell. the delinquents, dressed in one of these sacks, bareheaded and barefooted, were made to do penance, or, if condemned to be burned, marched to the place of execution. it is said that in san juan they were not tied to a stake but enclosed in a hollow plaster cast, against which the faggots were piled,[ ] so that they were roasted rather than burned to death. the place for burning the sinners was outside the gate of the fort san cristobal. mr. m.f. juncos believes that the prisons were in the lower part of the dominican convent, later the territorial audience and now the supreme court, but mr. salvador brau thinks that they occupied a plot of ground in the angle formed by cristo street and the "caleta" of san juan. of nicolas ramos, the last bishop of puerto rico, who united the functions of inquisitor with the duties of the episcopate, canon vargas says: " ... he was very severe, burning and punishing, _as was his duty_, some of the people whose cases came before him ..." it seems that the records of the inquisition in this island were destroyed and the traditions of its doings suppressed, because nothing is said regarding them by the native commentators on the island's history. only the names of a few of the leading men who came in contact with the tribunal have come down to us. licentiate sancho velasquez, who was accused of speaking against the faith and eating meat in lent, appears to have been manso's first victim, since he died in a dungeon. a clergyman named juan carecras was sent to spain at the disposition of the general, for the crime of practising surgery. in the same year ( ) we find the treasurer, blas de villasante, in an inquisition dungeon, because, though married in spain, he cohabited with a native woman--an offense too common at that time not to leave room for suspicion that the treasurer must have made himself obnoxious to the holy office in some other way. in , a judge auditor was sent from the española, but the parties whose accounts were to be audited contrived to have him arrested by the officers of the inquisition on the day of his arrival. doctor juan blazquez, having attempted to correct some abuses committed by the admiral's employees in connivance with the inquisition agents, suffered forty days' imprisonment, and was condemned to hear a mass standing erect all the time, besides paying a fine of pesos. these are the only cases on record. only the walls of the inquisition building, could they speak, could reveal what passed within them from the time of manso's arrival in to the end of the sixteenth century, when the west indian superior tribunal was transferred to cartagena, and a special subordinate judge only was left in san juan. bishop rodrigo de bastidas, who visited san juan on a government commission in , perceiving the abuses that were committed in the inquisitor's name, proposed the abolition of the holy office; but the odious institution continued to exist till , when the extraordinary cortes of cadiz removed, for a time, this blot on spanish history. the decree is dated february d, and accompanied by a manifesto which is an instructive historical document in itself. it shows that the cortes dared not attempt the suppression of the dreaded tribunal without first convincing the people of the disconnection of the measure with the religious question, and justifying it as one necessary for the public weal. "you can not doubt," they say, "that we endeavor to maintain in this kingdom the catholic, apostolic, roman religion, which you have the happiness to profess; ... the deputies elected by you know, as do the legislators of all times and all nations, that a social edifice not founded on religion, is constructed in vain; ... the true religion which we profess is the greatest blessing which god has bestowed on the spanish people; we do not recognize as spaniards those who do not profess it ... it is the surest support of all private and social virtues, of fidelity to the laws and to the monarch, of the love of country and of just liberty, which are graven in every spanish heart, which have impelled you to battle with the hosts of the usurper, vanquishing and annihilating them, while braving hunger and nakedness, torture, and death." the inquisition is next referred to. it is stated that in their constant endeavor to hasten the termination of the evils that afflict the spanish nation, the people's representatives have first given their attention to the inquisition; that, with the object of discovering the exact civil and ecclesiastical status of the holy office, they have examined all the papal bulls and other documents that could throw light on the subject, and have discovered that only the inquisitor-general had ecclesiastical powers; that the provincial inquisitors were merely his delegates acting under his instructions; that no supreme inquisitorial council had ever been instituted by papal brief, and that the general, being with the enemy (the french troops), no inquisition really existed. from these investigations the cortes had acquired a knowledge of the mode of procedure of the tribunals, of their history, and of the opinion of them entertained by the cortes of the kingdom in early days. " ... we will now speak frankly to you," continues the document, "for it is time that you should know the naked truth, and that the veil be lifted with which false politicians have covered their designs. "examining the instructions by which the provincial tribunals were governed, it becomes clear at first sight that the soul of the institution was inviolable secrecy. this covered all the proceedings of the inquisitors, and made them the arbiters of the life and honor of all spaniards, without responsibility to anybody on earth. they were men, and as such subject to the same errors and passions as the rest of mankind, and it is inconceivable that the nation did not exact responsibility since, in virtue of the temporal power that had been delegated to them, they condemned to seclusion, imprisonment, torture, and death. thus the inquisitors exercised a power which the constitution denies to every authority in the land save the sacred person of the king. "another notable circumstance made the power of the inquisitors-general still more unusual; this was that, without consulting the king or the supreme pontiff, they dictated laws, changed them, abolished them, or substituted them by others, so that there was within the nation a judge, the inquisitor-general, whose powers transcended those of the sovereign. "here now how the tribunal proceeded with the offenders. when an accusation was made, the accused were taken to a secret prison without being permitted to communicate with parents, children, relations, or friends, till they were condemned or absolved. their families were denied the consolation of weeping with them over their misfortunes or of assisting them in their defense. the accused was not only deprived of the assistance of his relations and friends, but in no case was he informed of the name of his accuser nor of the witnesses who declared against him; and in order that he might not discover who they were, they used to truncate the declarations and make them appear as coming from a third party. "some one will be bold enough to say that the rectitude and the religious character of the inquisitors prevented the confusion of the innocent with the criminal; but the experiences of many years and the history of the inquisition give the lie to such assurances. they show us sage and saintly men in the tribunal's dungeons. sixtus iv himself, who, at the request of the catholic kings, had sanctioned the creation of the tribunal, complained strongly of the innumerable protests that reached him from persecuted people who had been falsely accused of heresy. neither the virtue nor the position of distinguished men could protect them. the venerable archbishop of grenada, formerly the confessor of queen isabel, suffered most rigorous persecutions from the inquisitors of cordóva, and the same befell the archbishop of toledo, friar louis de leon, the venerable avila, father siguenza, and many other eminent men. "in view of these facts, it is no paradox to say that _the ignorance, the decadence of science, of the arts, commerce and agriculture, the depopulation and poverty of spain, are mainly due to the inquisition._ "how the inquisition could be established among such a noble and generous people as the spanish, will be a difficult problem for posterity to solve. it will be more difficult still to explain how such a tribunal could exist for more than three hundred years. circumstances favored its establishment. it was introduced under the pretext of restraining the moors and the jews, who were obnoxious to the spanish people, and who found protection in their financial relations with the most illustrious families of the kingdom. with such plausible motives the politicians of the time covered a measure which was contrary to the laws of the monarchy. religion demanded it as a protection, and the people permitted it, though not without strong protest. as soon as the causes that called the inquisition into existence had ceased, the people's attorneys in cortes demanded the establishment of the legal mode of procedure. the cortes of valladolid of and asked from the king that in matters of religion the ordinary judges might be declared competent, and that in the proceedings the canons and common codes might be followed; the cortes of saragossa asked the same in , and the kings would have acceded to the will of the people, expressed through their representatives, especially in view of the indirect encouragement to do so which they received from the holy see, but for the influence of those with whom they were surrounded who had an interest in the maintenance of the odious institution." the manifesto terminates with an assurance to the spanish people that, under the new law, heresy would not go unpunished; that, under the new system of judicial proceedings, the innocent would no longer be confounded with the criminal. " ... there will be no more voluntary errors, no more suborned witnesses, offenders will henceforth be judged by upright magistrates in accordance with the sacred canons and the civil code ... then, genius and talent will display all their energies without fear of being checked in their career by intrigue and calumny; ... science, the arts, agriculture, and commerce will flourish under the guidance of the distinguished men who abound in spain ... the king, the bishops, all the venerable ecclesiastics will instruct the faithful in the roman catholic apostolic religion without fear of seeing its beauty tarnished by ignorance and superstition, and, who knows, this decree may contribute to the realization, some day, of religious fraternity among all nations!" from this beautiful dream the cortes were rudely awakened the very next year when king ferdinand vii, replaced on his throne by the powers who formed the holy alliance, entered madrid surrounded by a host of retrograde, revengeful priests. then the regency, the cortes, the constitution were ignored. the deputies were the first to suffer exile, imprisonment, and death in return for their loyalty and liberalism; the public press was silenced; the convents reopened, municipalities and provincial deputations abolished, the jesuits restored, the inquisition reestablished, and priestcraft once more spread its influence over the mental and social life of a naturally generous, brave, and intelligent people. footnotes: [footnote : neumann, p. .] chapter xxxix growth of cities the proceedings in the formation of a spanish settlement in the sixteenth century were the same everywhere. for the choice of a site the presence of gold was a condition _sine quâ non_, without gold, no matter how beautiful or fertile the region, no settlement was made. when a favorable locality was found the first thing done was to construct a fort, because the natives, friendly disposed at first, were not long in becoming the deadly enemies of the handful of strangers who constituted themselves their masters. the next requisite was a church or chapel in which to invoke the divine blessing on the enterprise, or maybe to appease the divine wrath at the iniquities committed. last, but certainly not least in importance, came the smelting-house, where the king of spain's share of the gold was separated. around these the settlers grouped their houses or huts as they pleased. the first settlement on this island was made in , on the north coast, at the distance of more than a league from the present port of san juan, the space between being swampy. ponce called it capárra. when the promising result of ponce's first visit to the island was communicated to king ferdinand by ovando, the governor of la española, his highness replied in a letter dated valladolid, september , : "i note the good services rendered by ponce and that he has not gone to settle the island for want of means. now that they are being sent from here in abundance, let him go at once with as many men as he can." to ponce himself the king wrote: "i have seen your letter of august th. be very diligent in the search for gold-mines. take out as much as possible, smelt it in la española and remit it instantly. settle the island as best you can. write often and let me know what is needed and what passes." armed with these instructions, and with his appointment as governor _ad interim_, ponce returned to san juan in february, , with his wife and two daughters, settled in capárra, where, before his departure in , he had built a house of stamped earth (tapia), and where some of the companions of his first expedition had resided ever since. ponce's house, afterward built of stone, served as a fort. a church or chapel existed already, and we know that there was a smelting-house, because we read that the first gold-smelting took place in capárra in october, , and that the king's one-fifth came to , pesos. [illustration: plaza alphonso xii and intendencia building, san juan.] with the reinstatement of ceron and diaz, complaints about the distance of the settlement from the port, and its unhealthy location, soon reached the king's ears, accompanied by requests for permission to transfer it to an islet near the shore. no action was taken. in november, , the monarch wrote to ceron: "ponce says that he founded the town of capárra in the most favorable locality of the island. i fear that you want to change it. you shall not do so without our special approval. if there is just reason for moving you must first inform me." capárra remained for the time the only settlement, and was honored with the name of "city of puerto rico." a municipal council was installed, and the king granted the island a coat of arms which differed slightly from that used by the authorities till lately. the next settlement was made on the south shore, at a place named guánica, "where there is a bay," says oviedo, "which is one of the best in the world, but the mosquitoes were so numerous that they alone were sufficient to depopulate it." [ ] the spaniards then moved to aguáda, on the northwestern shore, and founded a settlement to which they gave the name of their leader soto mayor. this was a young man of aristocratic birth, ex-secretary of king philip, surnamed "the handsome." he had come to the indies with a license authorizing him to traffic in captive indians, and ponce, wishing, no doubt, to enlist the young hidalgo's family influence at the court in his favor, made him high constable (_alguacil mayor_) of the southern division (june, ). the new settlement's existence was short. it was destroyed by the indians in the insurrection of february of the following year, when christopher soto mayor and more of his countrymen, who had imprudently settled in isolated localities in the interior, fell victims of the rage of the natives. diego columbus proposed the reconstruction of the destroyed settlement, with the appellation of san german. the king approved, and near the end of the year , miguel del torro, one of ponce's companions, was delegated to choose a site. he fixed upon the bay of guayanilla, eastward of guánica, and san german became the port of call for the spanish ships bound to pária. its proximity to the "pearl coast," as the north shore of venezuela was named, made it the point of departure for all who wished to reach that coast or escape from the shores of poverty-stricken puerto rico--namely, the dreamers of the riches of peru, those who, like sedeño, aspired to new conquests on the mainland, or crown officers who had good reasons for wishing to avoid giving an account of their administration of the royal revenues. the comparative prosperity which it enjoyed made san german the object of repeated attacks by the french privateers. it was burned and plundered several times during the forty-three years of its existence, till one day in september, , three french ships of the line entered the port and landed a detachment of troops who plundered and destroyed everything to a distance of a league and a half into the interior. from that day san german, founded by miguel del torro, ceased to exist. the town with the same name, existing at present on the southwest coast, was founded in by governor francisco solis with the remains of the ill-fated settlement on the bay of guayanilla. the dominican friars had a large estate in this neighborhood, and the new settlement enhanced its value. both the governor and the bishop were natives of salamanca, and named the place new salamanca, but the name of new san german has prevailed. in the new town had citizens (vecinos). _san juan_.--licentiate velasquez, one of the king's officers at capárra, wrote to his highness in april, : " ... the people of this town wish to move to an islet in the port. i went to see it with the town council and it looks well"; and some time later: " ... we will send a description of the islet to which it is convenient to remove the town of puerto rico." ponce opposed the change. his reasons were that the locality of capárra was dry and level, with abundance of wood, water, and pasture, and that most of the inhabitants, occupied as they were with gold-washing, had to provide themselves with provisions from the neighboring granges. he recognized that the islet was healthier, but maintained that the change would benefit only the traders. the dispute continued for some time. medical certificates were presented declaring capárra unhealthy. the leading inhabitants declared their opinion in favor of the transfer. a petition was signed and addressed to the jerome friars, who governed in la española, and they ordered the transfer in june, . ponce was permitted to remain in his stone house in the abandoned town as long as he liked. in november, , castro wrote to the emperor expressing his satisfaction with the change, and asked that a fort and a stone smelting-house might be constructed, because the one in use was of straw and had been burned on several occasions. finally, in , the translation of the capital of puerto rico to its present site was officially recognized and approved. there were now two settlements in the island. there were citizens in each in , but the gold produced attracted others, and in the bishop of la española reported that there were houses in san juan, "some of stone, the majority of straw. the church was roofed while i was there." he says, "a dominican monastery was in course of construction, nearly finished, with more than friars in it." during the next five years the gold produce rapidly diminished; the indians, who extracted it, escaped or died. tempests and epidemics devastated the land. the caribs and the french freebooters destroyed what the former spared. all those who could, emigrated to mexico or peru, and such was the depopulated condition of the capital, that governor lando wrote in : "if a ship with men were to come during the night, they could land and kill all who live here." with the inhabitants engaged in the cultivation of sugar-cane, some improvement in their condition took place. still, there were only citizens in san juan in , and only in new san german. in , when drake appeared before san juan with a fleet of ships, the governor could only muster a few peons and horsemen, and but for the accidental presence of the spanish frigates, puerto rico would probably be an english possession to-day. it _was_ taken by the duke of cumberland four years later, but abandoned again on account of the epidemic that broke out among the english troops. when the hollanders laid siege to the capital in there were only men between citizens and jíbaros that could be collected for the defense. in there were citizens and houses in san juan, and citizens in new san german. arecibo and coámo had recently been founded. scarcely any progress in the settlement of the country was made during the remaining years of the seventeenth century. toward the middle of the eighteenth century great steps in this direction had been made. from governor bravo de rivera's list of men fit for militia service, we discover that in there were new settlements or towns in the island with a total of , men able to carry arms; exclusive of san juan and san german, they were: ponce with men. aguáda with " manatí " " añasco " " yauco " " coámo " " la tuna " " arecibo " " utuado " " loiza " " toa-alta " " toa-baja " " piedras " " bayamón " " cáguas " " guayama " " rio piedras with " cangrejos with " the oldest of these settlements is _la aguáda_.--the name signifies "place at which water is taken," and _aguadilla_, which is to the north of the former and the head of the province, is merely the diminutive of aguáda. the first possesses abundant springs of excellent water, one of them distant only five minutes from the landing-place. in aguadilla a famous spring rises in the middle of the town and runs through it in a permanent stream. in the king directed his officers in seville to make all ships, leaving that port for the indies, call at the island of san juan in order to make the caribs believe that the spanish population was much larger than it really was, and thus prevent or diminish their attacks. the excellence of the water which the ships found at aguáda made it convenient for them to call, and the spanish ships continued to do so long after the need of frightening away the caribs had passed. the first regular settlement was founded in by the franciscan monks, who named it san francisco de asis. the caribs surprised the place about the year , destroyed the convent, and martyrized five of the monks, which caused the temporary abandonment of the settlement. it was soon repeopled, notwithstanding the repeated attacks of caribs and french and english privateers. drake stopped there to provide his fleet with water in . cumberland did the same four years later. the columbian insurgents attempted a landing in and another in , but were beaten off. their valiant conduct on these occasions, and their loyalty in contributing a large sum of money toward the expenses of the war in africa, earned for their town, from the home government, the title of "unconquerable" (villa invicta) in . aguáda, or rather the mouth of the river culebrinas, which flows into the sea near it, is the place where columbus landed in . the fourth centenary of the event was commemorated in by the erection, on a granite pedestal, of a marble column, meters high, crowned with a latin cross. on the pedestal is the inscription: th of november _loiza._--along the borders of the river which bears this name there settled, about the year , pedro mexia, sancho arángo, francisco quinaós, pedro lopez, and some other spaniards, with their respective indian laborers. in one of the raids of the indians from vieyques or aye-aye, which were so frequent at the time, a cacique named cacimár met his death at the hands of arángo. the fallen chief's brother yaureibó, in revenge, prepared a large expedition, and penetrating at night with several pirogues full of men by way of the river to within a short distance of the settlement, fell upon it and utterly destroyed it, killing many and carrying off others. among the killed were mexia and his indian concubine named louisa or heloise. tradition says that this woman, having been advised by some indian friend of the intended attack, tried to persuade her paramour to flee. when he refused, she scorned his recommendation to save herself and remained with him to share his fate. in the relation of this episode by the chroniclers, figures also the name of the dog becerrillo (small calf), a mastiff belonging to arángo, who had brought the animal from the española, where columbus had introduced the breed on his second voyage. in the fight with the indians arángo was overpowered and was being carried off alive, when his dog, at the call of his master, came bounding to the rescue and made the indians release him. they sprang into the river for safety, and the gallant brute following them was shot with a poisoned arrow.[ ] _arecibo_ is situated on the river of that name. it was founded by felipe de beaumont in , with the appellation san felipe de arecibo. _fajardo._--governor bravo de rivero, with a view to found a settlement on the east coast, detached a number of soldiers from their regiment and gave to them and some other people a caballeria[ ] of land each, in the district watered by the river fajardo. alexander o'reilly, the king's commissioner, who visited the settlement in , found people, and wrote: " ...they have cleared little ground and cultivated so little that they are still in the very commencements. the only industry practised by the inhabitants is illicit trade with the danish islands of saint thomas and saint cross. the people of fajardo are the commission agents for the people there. what else could be expected from indolent soldiers and vagabonds without any means of clearing forests or building houses? if no other measures are adopted this settlement will remain many years in the same unhappy condition and be useful only to foreigners." in there were heads of families in the district; the town proper had houses and a church. with regard to the remaining settlements mentioned in governor bravo de rivero's list, there are no reliable data. from , the year in which a general distribution of government lands was practised and titles were granted, to the year , in which governor miguel muesas reformed or redistributed some of the urban districts, many, if not most of the settlements referred to were formed or received the names they bear at present. footnotes: [footnote : the first landing of the american troops was effected here on july , .] [footnote : these two episodes have given rise to several fantastic versions by native writers.] [footnote : ten by twenty "cuerdas." the cuerda is one-tenth less than an english acre.] chapter xl auriferous streams and gold produced from to if a systematic exploration were practised to-day, by competent mineralogists, of the entire chain of mountains which intersects the island from east to west, it is probable that lodes of gold-bearing quartz or conglomerate, worth working, would be discovered. even the alluvium deposits along the banks of the rivers and their tributaries, as well as the river beds, might, in many instances, be found to "pay." the early settlers compelled the indians to work for them. these poor creatures, armed with the simplest tools, dug the earth from the river banks. their wives and daughters, standing up to their knees in the river, washed it in wooden troughs. when the output diminished another site was chosen, often before the first one was half worked out. the indians' practical knowledge of the places where gold was likely to be found was the spanish gold-seeker's only guide, the indians' labor the only labor employed in the collection of it. as for the mountains, they have never been properly explored. the indians who occupied them remained in a state of insurrection for years, and when the mountain districts could be safely visited at last, the _auri sacra fames_ had subsided. the governors did not interest themselves in the mineral resources of the island, and the people found it too difficult to provide for their daily wants to go prospecting. so the surface gold in the alluvium deposits was all that was collected by the spaniards, and what there still may be on the bed-rocks of the rivers or in the lodes in the mountains from which it has been washed, awaits the advent of modern gold-seekers. the first samples of gold from puerto rico were taken to the española by ponce, who had obtained them from the river manatuabón, to which the friendly cacique guaybána conducted him on his first visit ( ). this river disembogues into the sea on the south coast near cape malapascua; but it appears that the doughty captain also visited the north coast and found gold enough in the rivers cóa and sibúco to justify him in making his headquarters at capárra, which is in the neighborhood. that gold was found there in considerable quantities is shown by the fact that in august of the same year of ponce's return to the island (he returned in february, ), , pesos corresponded to the king's fifth of the first _washings_. the first _smelting_ was practised october , . the next occurred may , , producing respectively , and , gold pesos as the king's share. thus, in the three first years the crown revenues from this source amounted to , gold pesos, and the total output to , gold pesos, which, at three dollars of our money per peso, approximately represented a total of $ , obtained from the rivers in the neighborhood of capárra alone. in a fresh discovery of gold-bearing earth in this locality was reported to the king by sancho velasquez, the treasurer, who wrote on april th: " ... at leagues' distance from here rich gold deposits have been found in certain rivers and streams. from reyes (december th) to march th, with very few indians, , pesos have been taken out. it is expected that the output this season will be , pesos." the streams in the neighborhood of san german, on the south coast, the only other settlement in the island at the time, seem to have been equally rich. the year after its foundation by miguel del toro the settlers were able to smelt and deliver , pesos to the royal treasurer. the next year the king's share amounted to , pesos, and treasurer haro reported that the same operation for the years and had produced $ , in all--that is, , for the treasury. a good idea of the island's mineral and other resources at this period may be formed from treasurer haro's extensive report to the authorities in madrid, dated january , . " ... your highness's revenues," he says, "are: one-fifth of the gold extracted and of the pearls brought by those who go (to the coast of venezuela) to purchase them, the salt produce and the duties on imports and exports. every one of the three smeltings that are practised here every two years produces about , pesos, in san german about , pesos. but the amounts fluctuate. "the product of pearls is uncertain. since the advent of the jerome fathers the business has been suspended until the arrival of your highness. two caravels have gone now, but few will go, because the fathers say that the traffic in indians is to cease and the greatest profit is in that ... on your highness's estates there are indians who wash gold, work in the fields, build houses, etc.; ... they produce from , to , pesos profit every gang (demora).... i send in this ship, with juan viscaino, , pesos and marks of pearls. there remain in my possession , pesos and marks of pearls, which shall be sent by the next ship in obedience to your highness's orders, not to send more than , pesos at a time. the pearls that go now are worth that amount. until the present we sent only , pesos' worth of pearls at one time." the yearly output of gold fluctuated, but it continued steadily, as velasquez wrote to the emperor in , when he made a remittance of , pesos. six or seven years later, the placers, for such they were, were becoming exhausted. castellanos, the treasurer, wrote in that only pesos had been received as the king's share of the last two years' smelting. some new deposit was discovered in the river daguáo, but it does not seem to have been of much importance. from the year the reports of the crown officers are full of complaints of the growing scarcity of gold; finally, in , the last remittance was made; not, it may be safely assumed, because there was no more gold in the island, but because those who had labored and suffered in its production, had succumbed to the unaccustomed hardships imposed on them and to the cruel treatment received from their sordid masters. besides the river mentioned, the majority of those which have their sources in the mountains of luquillo are more or less auriferous. these are: the rio prieto, the fajardo, the espíritu santo, the rio grande, and, especially, the mameyes. the river loiza also contains gold, but, judging from the traces of diggings still here and there visible along the beds of the mavilla, the sibúco, the congo, the rio negro, and carozal, in the north, it would seem that these rivers and their affluents produced the coveted metal in largest quantities. the duey, the yauco, and the oromico, or hormigueros, on the south coast are supposed to be auriferous also, but do not seem to have been worked. the metal was and is still found in seed-shaped grains, sometimes of the weight of or pesos. tradition speaks of a nugget found in the fajardo river weighing ounces, and of another found in an affluent of the congo of pound in weight. _silver_.--in the crown officers in san juan wrote to the home government: " ... the gold is diminishing. several veins of lead ore have been discovered, from which some silver has been extracted. the search would continue if the concession to work these veins were given for ten years, with . or . royalty." on march th of the following year the same officers reported: " ... respecting the silver ores discovered, we have smolten some, but no one here knows how to do it. veins of this ore have been discovered in many parts of the island, but nobody works them. we are waiting for some one to come who knows how to smelt them." the following extract from the memoirs and documents left by juan bautista muñoz, gives the value in "gold pesos"[ ] of the bullion and pearls, corresponding to the king's one-fifth share of the total produce remitted to spain from this island from the year to : in , gold pesos , , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , - , " , , " , , " , in , " , , " , - , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , , " , ______ total, share , the entire output for this period was , , gold pesos, or $ , , spanish coin of to-day, as the total produce in gold and pearls of the island of san juan de puerto rico during the first twenty-seven years of its occupation by the spaniards. footnotes: [footnote : washington irving estimates the value of the "gold peso" of the sixteenth century at $ spanish money of our day.] chapter xli west indian hurricanes in puerto rico from to whoever has witnessed the awful magnificence of what the primitive inhabitants of the west indian islands called _ou-ra-cán,_ will never forget the sense of his own utter nothingness and absolute helplessness. with the wind rushing at the rate of or more miles an hour, amid the roar of waves lashed into furious rolling mountains of water, the incessant flash of lightning, the dreadful roll of thunder, the fierce beating of rain, one sees giant trees torn up by the roots and man's proud constructions of stone and iron broken and scattered like children's toys. the tropical latitudes to the east and north of the west indian archipelago are the birthplace of these phenomena. according to mr. redfield[ ] they cover simultaneously an extent of surface from to miles in diameter, acting with diminished violence toward the circumference and with increased energy toward the center of this space. in the weather bureau's bulletin cited, there is a description of the most remarkable and destructive among the hurricanes that have swept over the west indies from to . not a single island has escaped the tempest's ravages. i have endeavored in vain to make an approximate computation of the human life and property destroyed by these visitations of providence. such a computation is impossible when we read of entire towns destroyed not once but , , and times; of crops swept away by the tempest's fury, and the subsequent starvation of untold thousands; of whole fleets of ships swallowed up by the sea with every soul on board, and of hundreds of others cast on shore like coco shards. to give an idea of the appalling disasters caused by these too oft recurring phenomena, the above-mentioned bulletin gives flammarion's description of the great hurricane of .[ ] "the most terrible cyclone of modern times is probably that which occurred on october , , which has been specially called the great hurricane, and which seems to have embodied all the horrible scenes that attend a phenomenon of this kind. starting from barbados, where trees and houses were all blown down, it engulfed an english fleet anchored before st. lucia, and then ravaged the whole of that island, where , persons were buried beneath the ruins. from thence it traveled to martinique, overtook a french transport fleet and sunk ships conveying , soldiers. the vessels _disappeared_." such is the laconic language in which the governor reported the disaster. farther north, santo domingo, st. vincent, st. eustatius, and puerto rico were devastated, and most of the vessels that were sailing in the track of the cyclone were lost with all on board. beyond puerto rico the tempest turned northeast toward bermuda, and though its violence gradually decreased, it nevertheless sunk several english vessels. this hurricane was quite as destructive inland. nine thousand persons perished in martinique, and , in st. pierre, where not a single house was left standing, for the sea rose to a height of feet, and houses that were built along the shore were engulfed. at port royal the cathedral, churches, and , houses were blown down; , sick and wounded were buried beneath the ruins of the hospital. at st. eustatius, vessels were dashed to pieces on the rocks, and of the which lifted their anchors and went out to sea, only returned. at st. lucia the strongest buildings were torn up from their foundations, a cannon was hurled a distance of more than yards, and men as well as animals were lifted off their feet and carried several yards. the sea rose so high that it destroyed the fort and drove a vessel against the hospital with such force as to stave in the walls of that building. of the houses at kingston, on the island of st. vincent, alone remained intact, and the french frigate junon was lost. alarming consequences were feared from the number of dead bodies which lay uninterred, and the quantity of fish the sea threw up, but these alarms soon subsided...." "the aboriginal inhabitants," says abbad, "foresaw these catastrophes two or three days in advance. they were sure of their approach when they perceived a hazy atmosphere, the red aspect of the sun, a dull, rumbling, subterranean sound, the stars shining through a kind of mist which made them look larger, the nor'west horizon heavily clouded, a strong-smelling emanation from the sea, a heavy swell with calm weather, and sudden changes of the wind from east to west." the spanish settlers also learned to foretell the approach of a hurricane by the sulphurous exhalations of the earth, but especially by the incessant neighing of horses, bellowing of cattle, and general restlessness of these animals, who seem to acquire a presentiment of the coming danger. "the physical features of hurricanes are well understood. the approach of a hurricane is usually indicated by a long swell on the ocean, propagated to great distances, and forewarning the observer by two or three days. a faint rise in the barometer occurs before the gradual fall, which becomes very pronounced at the center. fine wisps of cirrus-clouds are first seen, which surround the center to a distance of miles; the air is calm and sultry, but this is gradually supplanted by a gentle breeze, and later the wind increases to a gale, the clouds become matted, the sea rough, rain falls, and the winds are gusty and dangerous as the vortex comes on. then comes the indescribable tempest, dealing destruction, impressing the imagination with the wild exhibition of the forces of nature, the flashes of lightning, the torrents of rain, the cold air, all the elements in an uproar, which indicate the close approach of the center. in the midst of this turmoil there is a sudden pause, the winds almost cease, the sky clears, the waves, however, rage in great turbulence. this is the eye of the storm, the core of the vortex, and it is, perhaps, miles in diameter, or one-thirtieth of the whole hurricane. the respite is brief, and is soon followed by the abrupt renewal of the violent wind and rain, but now coming from the opposite direction, and the storm passes off with the several features following each other in the reverse order." [ ] the distribution over the months of the year of the west indian hurricanes which occurred during the four hundred and six years elapsed since the discovery, to the last on the list, is as follows: months. no of hurricanes. january february march april may june july august september october november december puerto rico has been devastated by hurricanes more than times since its occupation by the spaniards. but the records, beyond the mere statement of the facts, are very incomplete. four stand out prominently as having committed terrible ravages. these are the hurricanes of santa ana, on july , ; los angeles, on august , ; san narciso, on october , , and san ciriaco, on august , . the first mention of the occurrence of a hurricane in this island we find in a letter from the crown officers to the king, dated august , , wherein they explain: " ... in these last smeltings there was little gold, because many indians died in consequence of sickness caused by the tempest as well as from want of food ..." the next we read of was october , , and is thus described by licentiate juan de vadillo: "on the night of the th of october last there broke over this island such a violent storm of wind and rain, which the natives call '_ou-ra-cán'_ that it destroyed the greater part of this city (san juan) with the church. in the country it caused such damage by the overflow of rivers that many rich men have been made poor." on september , , governor francisco manuel de lando reported to the king: "during the last six weeks there have been three storms of wind and rain in this island (july , august and ). they have destroyed all the plantations, drowned many cattle, and caused much hunger and misery in the land. in this city the half of the houses were entirely destroyed, and of the other half the least injured is without a roof. in the country and in the mines nothing has remained standing. everybody is ruined and thinking of going away." _ _.--july and august. the town officers wrote to the king in september: "in the last two months we have had three storms of wind and rain, the greatest that have been seen in this island, and as the plantations are along the banks of the rivers the floods have destroyed them all. many slaves and cattle have been drowned, and this has caused much discouragement among the settlers, who before were inclined to go away, and are now more so." _ _.--september (san mateo), hurricane mentioned in the memoirs of father torres vargas. _ _.--september , mentioned by the same chronicler in the following words: "fray pedro de solier came to his bishopric in the year , the same in which a great tempest occurred, after more than forty years since the one called of san mateo. this one happened on the th of september. it did so much damage to the cathedral that it was necessary partly to cover it with straw and write to his majesty asking for a donation to repair it. with his accustomed generosity he gave , ducats." _ _.--abbad states that a certain count or duke estren, an english commander, with a fleet of ships and a body of landing troops appeared before san juan and demanded its surrender, but that, before the english had time to land, a violent hurricane occurred which stranded every one of the british ships on bird island. most of the people on board perished, and the few who saved their lives were made prisoners of war. _ _.--precise date unknown. monsieur moreau de jonnès, in his work,[ ] says that this hurricane destroyed a coco-palm grove of or leagues in extent, which existed near ponce. other writers confirm this. _ , august _.--friar iñigo abbad, who was in the island at the time, gives the following description of this tempest: "about a quarter to eleven of the night of the th of august the storm began to be felt in the capital of the island. a dull but continuous roll of thunder filled the celestial hemisphere, the sound as of approaching torrents of rain, the frightful sight of incessant lightning, and a slow quaking of the earth accompanied the furious wind. the tearing up of trees, the lifting of roofs, smashing of windows, and leveling of everything added terror-striking noises to the scene. the tempest raged with the same fury in the capital till after one o'clock in the morning. in other parts of the island it began about the same hour, but without any serious effect till later. in aguáda, where i was at the time, nothing was felt till half-past two in the morning. it blew violently till a quarter to four, and the wind continued, growing less strong, till noon. during this time the wind came from all points of the compass, and the storm visited every part of the island, causing more damage in some places than others, according to their degree of exposure." _ , june , and , august ._--no details of these two hurricanes are found in any of the puerto rican chronicles. _ , september ._--a great cyclone, a detailed description of which is given in the work of mr. jonnés. _ and _--both hurricanes happened on the same date, that is, the d of july. yauco and san german suffered most. a description of the effects of these storms was given in the dario económico of the th of august, . _ , september _.--(san mateo.) this cyclone is mentioned by jonnés and by córdova, who says that it caused extraordinary damages on the plantations. _ , july _.--(santa ana.) córdova (vol. ii, p. of his memoirs) says of this hurricane: "it destroyed the towns of patillas, maunabó, yabucóa, humacáo, gurabó, and cáguas. in the north, east, and center of the island it caused great damage. more than three hundred people and a large number of cattle perished; persons were badly wounded. the rivers rose to an unheard of extent, and scarcely a house remained standing. in the capital part of the san antonio bridge was blown down, and the city wall facing the marina on tanca creek was cracked. the royal fortaleza (the present executive mansion) suffered much, also the house of ponce. the lightning-conductors of the powder-magazine were blown down." _ , august _.--(los angeles.) this cyclone was general over the island and caused exceedingly grave losses of life and property. all the ships in the harbor of san juan were lost. _ , september _.--no details. _ , august _.--no details, except that this hurricane caused considerable damage. _ , october _.--(san narciso.) no details. [illustration: casa blanca and the sea wall, san juan.] _ , august _.--(san felipe.) no details. _ , august _.--(san ciriaco.) when this hurricane occurred there was a meteorological station in operation in san juan, and we are therefore enabled to present the following data from mr. geddings's report: "the rainfall was excessive, as much as inches falling at adjuntas during the course of twenty-four hours. this caused severe inundations of rivers, and the deaths from drowning numbered , as compared with killed by injuries received from the effects of the wind. this number does not include the thousands who have since died from starvation. the total loss of property was , , pesos." the united states government and people promptly came to the assistance of the starving population, and something like , , rations were distributed by the army during the ten months succeeding the hurricane. * * * * * such are the calamities that are suspended over the heads of the inhabitants of the west indian islands. from july to october, at any moment, the sapphire skies may turn black with thunder-clouds; the eden-like landscapes turned into scenes of ruin and desolation; the rippling ocean that lovingly laves their shores becomes a roaring monster trying to swallow them. the refreshing breezes that fan them become a destructive blast. yet, such is the fecundity of nature in these regions that a year after a tempest has swept over an island, if the debris be removed, not a trace of its passage is visible--the fields are as green as ever, the earth, the trees, and plants that were spared by the tempest double their productive powers as if to indemnify the afflicted inhabitants for the losses they suffered. footnotes: [footnote : see bulletin h, weather bureau, west indian hurricanes, by e.b. garriott, washington, .] [footnote : l'atmosphère, p. and following.] [footnote : enrique del monte, havana university, on the climate of the west indies and west indian hurricanes.] [footnote : histoire physique des antilles françaises.] chapter xlii the caribs the origin of the caribs, their supposed cannibalism and other customs have occasioned much controversy among west indian chroniclers. the first question is undecided, and probably will remain so forever. with regard to cannibalism, in spite of the confirmative assurances of the early spanish chroniclers, we have the testimony of eminent authorities to the contrary; and the writings of jesuit missionaries who have lived many years among the caribs give us a not unfavorable idea of their character and social institutions. the first european who became intimately acquainted with the people of the west indian islands, on the return from his first voyage, wrote to the spanish princes: " ... in all these islands i did not observe much difference in the faces and figures of the inhabitants, nor in their customs, nor in their language, seeing that they all understand each other, which is very singular." on the other hand the readiness with which the inhabitants of aye-aye and the other carib islands gave asylum to the fugitive boriquén indians and joined them in their retaliatory expeditions, also points to the existence of some bond of kinship between them, so that there is ground for the opinion entertained by some writers that all the inhabitants of all the antilles were of the race designated under the generic name of caribs. the theory generally accepted at first was, that at the time of the discovery two races of different origin occupied the west indian archipelago. the larger antilles with the groups of small islands to the north of them were supposed to be inhabited by a race named guaycures, driven from the peninsula of florida by the warlike seminoles; the guaycures, it is said, could easily have reached the bahamas and traversed the short distance that separated them from cuba in their canoes, some of which could contain men, and once there they would naturally spread over the neighboring islands. it is surmised that they occupied them at the time of the advent of the phoenicians in this hemisphere, and dr. calixto romero, in an interesting article on lucúo, the god of the boriquéns,[ ] mentions a tradition referring to the arrival of these ancient navigators, and traces some of the boriquén religious customs to them. the guaycures were a peacefully disposed race, hospitable, indolent, fond of dancing and singing, by means of which they transmitted their legends from generation to generation. they fell an easy prey to the spaniards. velasquez conquered cuba without the loss of a man. juan esquivél made himself master of jamaica with scarcely any sacrifice, and if the aborigines of the española and boriquén resisted, it was only after patiently enduring insupportable oppression for several years. the other race which inhabited the antilles were said to have come from the south. they were supposed to have descended the orinoco, spreading along the shore of the continent to the west of the river's mouths and thence to have invaded one after the other all the lesser antilles. they were in a fair way of occupying the larger antilles also when the discoveries of columbus checked their career. in support of the theory of the south-continental origin of the caribs we have, in the first place, the work of mr. aristides rojas on venezuelan hieroglyphics, wherein he treats of numerous carib characters on the rocks along the plains and rivers of that republic, marking their itinerary from east to west. he states that the acháguas, the aboriginals of columbia, gave to these wanderers, on account of their ferocity, the name of chabi-nabi, that is, tiger-men or descendants of tigers. in the classification of native tribes in codazzi's geography of venezuela, he includes the caribs, and describes them as "a very numerous race, enterprising and warlike, which in former times exercised great influence over the whole territory extending from ecuador to the antilles. they were the tallest and most robust indians known on the continent; they traded in slaves, and though they were cruel and ferocious in their incursions, they were not cannibals like their kinsmen of the lesser antilles, who were so addicted to the custom of eating their prisoners that the names of cannibal and carib had become synonymous." [ ] another theory of the origin of the caribs is that advanced by m. d'orbigny, who, after eight years of travel over the south american continent, published the result of his researches in paris in . he considers them to be a branch of the great guaraní family. and the jesuit missionaries, fathers raymond and dutertre, who lived many years among the antillean caribs, concluded from their traditions that they were descended from a people on the continent named galibis, who, according to m. d'orbigny, were a branch of the guaranís. but the guaranís, though a very wide-spread family of south american aborigines, were neither a conquering nor a wandering race. they occupied that part of the continent situated between the rivers paraguay and paraná, from where these two rivers join the river plate, northward, to about latitude ° south. this region was the home of the guaranís, a people indolent, sensual, and peaceful, among whom the jesuits, in the eighteenth century founded a religious republic, which toward the end of that period counted towns with a total population of over one hundred thousand souls. a glance at the map will show the improbability of any indian tribe, no matter how warlike, making its way from the heart of the continent to the orinoco through ° of primitive forests, mountains, and rivers, inhabited by hostile tribes.[ ] the french missionaries who lived many years with the caribs of guadeloupe and the other french possessions, do not agree on the subject of their origin. fathers dutertre and raymond believe them to be the descendants of the galibis, a people inhabiting guiana. fathers rochefort, labat, and bristol maintain that they are descended from the apalaches who inhabited the northern part of florida. humboldt is of the same opinion, and suggests that the name carib may be derived from calina or caripuna through transformation of the letters _l_ and _p_ into _r_ and _b_, forming caribi or galibi.[ ] pedro martyr strongly opposes this opinion, the principal objection to which is that a tribe from the north american continent invading the west indies by way of florida would naturally occupy the larger antilles before traveling east and southward. under this hypothesis, as we have said, all the inhabitants of the antilles would be caribs, but in that case the difference in the character of the inhabitants of the two divisions of the archipelago would have to be accounted for. most of the evidence we have been able to collect on this subject points to a south-continental origin of the caribs. on the maps of america, published in by abraham ortellus, of antwerp, in by john speed, of london, and in by sanson d'abbeville in paris, the whole region to the north of the orinoco is marked caribana. in the history of the dutch occupation of guiana we read that hostile caribs occupied a shelter[ ] constructed in by the governor on the borders of the barima, which shows that the vast region along the orinoco and its tributaries, as well as the lesser antilles, was inhabited by an ethnologically identical race. * * * * * were the caribs cannibals? this question has been controverted as much as that of their origin, and with the same doubtful result. the only testimony upon which the assumption that the caribs were cannibals is founded is that of the companions of columbus on his second voyage, when, landing at guadeloupe, they found human bones and skulls in the deserted huts. no other evidence of cannibalism of a positive character was ever after obtained, so that the belief in it rests exclusively upon chanca's narrative of what the spaniards saw and learned during the few days of their stay among the islands. their imagination could not but be much excited by the sight of what the doctor describes as "infinite quantities" of bones of human creatures, who, they took for granted, had been devoured, and of skulls hanging on the walls by way of receptacles for curios. it was the age of universal credulity, and for more than a century after the most absurd tales with regard to the people and things of the mysterious new continent found ready credence even among men of science. columbus, in his letter to santangel (february, ), describing the different islands and people, wrote: "i have not yet seen any of the human monsters that are supposed to exist here." the descriptions of the customs of the natives of the newly discovered islands which dr. chanca sent to the town council of seville were unquestioned by them, and afterward by the spanish chroniclers; but there is reason to believe with mr. ignacio armas, an erudite cuban author, who published a paper in entitled the fable of the caribs, that the belief in their cannibalism originated in an error of judgment, was an illusion afterward, and ended by being a calumny[ ]. father bartolomé de las casas was the first to contradict this belief. "they [the spaniards] saw skulls," he says, "and human bones. these must have been of chiefs or other persons whom they held in esteem, because, to say that they were the remains of people who had been eaten, if the natives devoured as many as was supposed, the houses could not contain the bones, and there is no reason why, after eating them, they should preserve the relics. all this is but guesswork." washington irving agrees with the reverend historian, and describes the general belief in the cannibalism of the caribs to the spaniards' fear of them. two eminent authorities positively deny it. humboldt, in his before-cited work, in the chapter on carib missions, says: "all the missionaries of the carony, of the lower orinoco, and of the plains of cari, whom we have had occasion to consult, have assured us that the caribs were perhaps the least anthropophagous of any tribes on the new continent, ..." and sir robert schomburgh, who was charged by the royal geographical society with the survey of guiana in , reported that among the caribs he found peace and contentment, simple family affections, and frank gratitude for kindness shown.[ ] * * * * * the narratives of the french, english, and dutch conquerors of the guianas and the lesser antilles accord with the observations of humboldt in describing the caribs as an ambitious and intelligent race, among whom there still existed traces of a superior social organization, such as the hereditary power of chiefs, respect for the priestly caste, and attachment to ancient customs. employed only in fishing and hunting, the carib was accustomed to the use of arms from childhood; war was the principal object of his existence, and the proofs through which the young warrior had to pass before being admitted to the ranks of the braves, remind us of the customs of certain north american indians. they were of a light yellow color with a sooty tint, small, black eyes, white and well-formed teeth, straight, shining, black hair, without a beard or hair on any other part of their bodies. the expression of their face was sad, like that of all savage tribes in tropical regions. they were of middle size, but strong and vigorous. to protect their bodies from the stings of insects they anointed them with the juice or oil of certain plants. they were polygamous. from their women they exacted the most absolute submission. the females did all the domestic labor, and were not permitted to eat in the presence of the men. in case of infidelity the husband had the right to kill his wife. each family formed a village by itself (carbet) where the oldest member ruled. their industry, besides the manufacture of their arms and canoes, was limited to the spinning and dyeing of cotton goods, notably their hammocks, and the making of pottery for domestic uses. though possessing no temples, nor religious observances, they recognized two principles or spirits, the spirit of good (boyee) and the spirit of evil (maboya). the priests invoked the first or drove out the second as occasion required. each individual had his good spirit. their language resembled in sound the italian, the words being sonorous, terminating in vowels. by the end of the eighteenth century the missionaries had made vocabularies of carib dialects, and the bible had been translated into one of them, the arawak. a remarkable custom was the use of two distinct languages, one by the males, another by the females. tradition says that when the caribs first invaded the antilles they put to death all the males but spared the females. the women continued speaking their own tongue and taught it to their daughters, but the sons learned their fathers' language. in time, both males and females learned both languages. "it is true," says the jesuit father rochefort, in his histoire des antilles, "that the caribs have degenerated from the virtues of their ancestors, but it is also true that the europeans, by their pernicious examples, their ill-treatment of them, their villainous deceit, their dastardly breaking of every promise, their pitiless plundering and burning of their villages, their beastly violation of their girls and women, have taught them, to the eternal infamy of the name of christian, to lie, to betray, to be licentious, and other vices which they knew not before they came in contact with us." father dutertre declares that at the time of the arrival of the europeans the caribs were contented, happy, and sociable. physically they were the best made and healthiest people of america. theft was unknown to them, nothing was hidden; their huts had neither doors nor windows, and when, after the advent of the french, a carib missed anything in his hut, he used to say: "a christian has been here!" dutertre says that in thirty-five years all the french missionaries together, by taking the greatest pains, had not been able to convert adults. those who were thought to have embraced christianity returned to their practises as soon as they rejoined their fellows. "the reason for this want of success," says the father, "is the bad impression produced on the minds of these intelligent natives by the cruelties and immoralities of the christians, which are more barbarous than those of the islanders themselves. they have inspired the caribs with such a horror of christianity that the greatest reproach they can think of for an enemy is to call him a christian." the reason the spaniards never attempted the conquest of the caribs is clear. there was no gold in their islands. they defended their homes foot by foot, and if, by chance, they were taken prisoners, they preferred suicide to slavery. toward the end of the eighteenth century there still existed a few hundred of the race in the island of st. vincent. they were known as the black caribs, because they were largely mixed with fugitive negro slaves from other islands and with the people of a slave-ship wrecked on their coast in . they lived there tranquil and isolated till , when the island was settled by french colonists, and they were finally absorbed by them. they were the last representatives in the antilles of a race which, during five centuries, had ruled both on land and sea. on the continent, along the esequibo and its affluents, they are numerous still; but in their contact with the european settlers in those regions they have lost the strength and the virtues of their former state without acquiring those of the higher civilization. like all aboriginals under similar conditions, they are slowly disappearing. footnotes: [footnote : revista puertoriqueña, tomo i, año i, .] [footnote : the word "cannibal" is but a corruption of guaribó, is, "brave or strong," changed into caribó, caríba, and finally that carib. the name galibi, also applied to the caribs, means equally strong or brave.] [footnote : the author visited this region and sketched some of the ruins of these jesuit-guarani missions, of which scarcely one stone has remained on the other. they were destroyed by the brazilians after the suppression of the society of jesus by pope clement xiv in ; the defenseless indians were cruelly butchered or carried off as slaves. the sculptured remains of temples, of gardens and orchards grown into jungles still attest the high degree of development attained by these missions under the guidance of the jesuit fathers.] [footnote : voyage aux regions equinoctiales du nouveau continent, paris, .] [footnote : "kleyn pleysterhuisye," small plaster house.] [footnote : as an example of the credulity of the people of the period, see theodore bry's work in the library of congress in washington, in which there is a map of guiana, published in frankfort in . on it are depicted with short descriptions the lake of parmié and the city of manáo, which represent el dorado, in search of which hundreds of spaniards and thousands of indians lost their lives. there is a picture of one of the amazons, with a short notice of their habits and customs, and there is the portrait of one of the inhabitants of the country twai-panoma, who were born without heads, but had eyes, nose, and mouth conveniently located in their breast.] bibliography the history of puerto rico has long since been a subject of study and research by native writers and others, to whose works we owe many of the data contained in this book. their names, in alphabetical order, are: abbad, fray iÑigo.--historia geográfica, civil y natural de san juan bautista de puerto rico. madrid, . agosta, d. josÉ juliÁn.--new edition of abbad's history, with notes and commentaries. puerto rico, . brau, d. salvador.--puerto rico y su historia. (critical investigations.)valencia, . cedÓ, d. santiago.--compendio de geografía para instrucción de la juventud portoriqueña. mayaguez, . coello, d. francisco.--mapa de la isla de puerto rico, ilustrado con notas históricas y estadísticas escritas por don pascual madoz. madrid, . coll y toste, d. cayetano.--colón en puerto rico. (disquisiciones histórico-filológicas.) puerto rico, . repertorio histórico de puerto rico. a monthly publication. cÓrdova, d. pedro tomÁs.--memorias geográficas, históricas, económicas y estadísticas de la isla de puerto rico. puerto rico, . memoria sobre todos los ramos de la administración de la isla de puerto rico. madrid, . cortÓn, d. antonio.--la separación de mandos en puerto rico. discurso escrito y comenzado á leer ante la comisión del congreso de los diputados. habana, . flinter, colonel.--an account of the present state of the island of puerto rico. london, . jimeno agius, j.--puerto rico. madrid, . ledru, andrÉ pierre.--voyage aux iles ténériffe, la trinité, st. thomas, ste. croix et porto rico, avec des notes et des additions par sonnini, paris, . (a work full of fantastic and imaginary data, without any historical value.) melendez y bruna, d. salvador.--puerto rico. representation of the governor of the island to the king. cadiz, . nazario, d. josÉ marÍa.--guayanilla y la historia de puerto rico. ponce, . pÉrez moris, d. josÉ, y cueto, d. luis.--historia de la insurrección de lares. sama, d. manuel marÍa.--el desembarco de colón en puerto rico y el monumento de culebrinas, mayaguez, . stahl, d. agustin.--los indios borinqueños. puerto rico, . tapia, d. alejandro.--biblioteca histórica de puerto rico. puerto rico, . torres, d. luis llorens.--américa. estudios históricos y filológicos. madrid y barcelona, . ubeda y delgado, d. manuel.--isla de puerto rico, estudio histórico-geográfico. puerto rico, . vizcarrondo, d. julio.--elementos de historia y geografía de la isla de puerto rico. puerto rico, . there are other writings on subjects connected with the island's history by native authors, some published in book or pamphlet form, others, like those of zeno gandía, neumann, dr. dominguez, and navarrete, have appeared in the columns of periodicals at different times before the american occupation of the island. index abbad, friar iñigo, his history of puerto rico; cited; on state of agriculture in . abercrombie, sir ralph, attacks san juan. aborigines, see indians. agriculture, inhabitants of puerto rico forced to turn to; condition of, in . aguáda, its history. albemarle, earl of, captures havana. alexander vi, pope, divides the world between spain and portugal. american army, landing of; recognized as liberators,; also see preface v. americans, interest of, in the insurrection of lares, . antigua, discovery of. arecibo, town of. armada, effects of destruction of. autonomy granted to puerto rico. bastidas, bishop rodrigo, charged with liberating indian slaves in puerto rico. beet-sugar, its injurious competition with cane-sugar, . bemini (florida), island of, king ferdinand wants ponce to explore it, ; indian reports of, ; discovery of, . blake, english admiral, captures spanish galleons, . blasquez, juan, judge-auditor of puerto rico, . boabdil, last of the moorish kings. boriquén, first known name of puerto rico; seat of guaybána; boriqueños restless; revolt in; last of the boriquén indians; the republic of, proclaimed; falls; native inhabitants of. bowdoin, hendrick, commands dutch fleet in attack on san juan. brau, his history of puerto rico quoted. bruckman, an american, takes active part in insurrection; shot. buccaneers, their origin. cacáo. cannibals, supposed to be found among the caribs. capárra, first settlement of spaniards in puerto rico; capital transferred from, to san juan; the old capital. capital, transferred from capárra to sun juan. caribs, supposed by columbus to be on guadeloupe; annoy spaniards in puerto rico; assist the boriquén indians; raids in puerto rico; in dominica punished by the spaniards; in the windward islands; their extermination of aborigines of the west indies; origin of; characteristics; were they cannibals?; disappearing. castellano y villaroya, spanish colonial minister, intercedes in behalf of puerto rico. castellanos, juan, brings colonists to puerto rico; attorney for puerto rico at the court of spain. castellanos, juan de, treasurer of puerto rico. castro, baltazar, reports depredations of caribs. ceron, juan, governor of puerto rico; arrested by juan ponce; restored to office; returns to puerto rico as governor. cervantes de loayza, governor. charles v, king of spain; quarrels with francis i of france; orders the fortification of san german. cholera, epidemic of. church, in general. cities, growth of. clergy; the island made a diocese; alonzo manso, first prelate; decree of isabel ii affecting clergy. coco-palm introduced. coffee. columbus, christopher, returns from his first voyage; received by the court at barcelona; second expedition organized; his second expedition sails from cadiz; discovers the windward islands; introduces system of enslaving the indians by "distribution" of them among settlers. columbus, diego, with christopher columbus's second expedition; viceroy and admiral, in la española; deposes ponce; authority of, suspended; deprived of the power of appointing governor of puerto rico. commerce, its development; imports and exports. cortéz, his conquest of mexico. cromwell, his alliance with france against spain. cuba, influence of cuban revolution on puerto rico; reforms in, suggested by sagasta. de la gama, antonio, charged with executing the royal decree against the "distribution" of indians. diaz, bernal, de pisa, with columbus's second expedition. diego, rafael, organizer of the revolution of . distribution of indians among the spanish conquerors as slaves; system introduced by columbus. dominica, discovery of; caribs in, aid puerto rico indians against the spaniards; spanish expedition against caribs in. dominicans, order of. drake, francis, his expeditions in the caribbean. education; illiteracy and general ignorance; in hands of clergy; new interest in; first college; schools. elective system. england contracts to take slaves into the spanish-american colonies. english, ship visits puerto rico and alarms inhabitants; war with, fleet sent against spaniards in west indies; fleet anchors off "caleta del cabron," and is fired on by spaniards; abandons the attack; alliance with france against spain; capture havana; attack san juan. española (santo domingo). fajardo, town of. ferdinand, king of spain, his interest in puerto rico. fetichism in the religion of the peasantry. filibusters, origin of. finance. florida, discovery of; ponce's last expedition to. francis i, king of france, quarrel with charles v of spain. franciscans, order of. french, send privateers to attack the antilles; capture san german twice and destroy it; attack guayama; fail in an attack on puerto rico; alliance with english against spain; pirates in the caribbean. fuente, alonso la, his letters to the spanish government. ginger. gold, in puerto rico; early search for; first discovery; gold-bearing streams; production of gold. government of puerto rico, instructions by the king of spain. guadeloupe, discovery of; caribs in, aid puerto rico indians against the spaniards. guaybána, cacique in puerto rico; death of. guaybána second, heads revolt against the spaniards; massacres spaniards; is defeated; killed. haro, juan de, governor, defends san juan against the dutch. havana, captured by the english under the earl of albemarle and admiral pocock. hawkyns, john, his freebooting voyages among the antilles; his fleet captured; killed. holland, spain's war with; sends fleet against puerto rico; it is defeated. hurricanes in the west indies; in puerto rico. indians, system of "distribution" of, introduced; in revolt; slaughter spaniards; defeated by ponce; number of, in puerto rico; "distribution" of; rapid decrease of; condition of; efforts to prevent extinction of; "distribution" of, among settlers forbidden; the last survivors liberated from slavery; last report of the boriquén indians. inquisition, the, in puerto rico; nicolas ramos, the last inquisitor; abolition of the inquisition; reestablished. isabel ii, her decree declaring property of the secular clergy national property. jews, property of, confiscated to supply funds for columbus's second expedition. jíbaro, the puerto rican peasant; customs of. lando, governor of puerto rico, tries to prevent persons leaving the island. lares, the insurrection of. las casas, bartolomé de, his "relations of the indies" cited; seeks to prevent extinction of indians; favors introduction of negro slaves. laws, reform, promised; electoral. leeward islands, discovery of. le grand, pierre, the french pirate. libraries; since american occupation. loiza, settlement of. l'olonais, sobriquet of sables d'olone, _q.v._ macias, manuel, governor-general, declares the island in a state of war. manso, alonzo, first bishop of puerto rico. marie-galante, discovery of. mayor, soto, forms a settlement at guánica; killed by indians. mccormick, james, his report on puerto rico in . mestizos, or mixed races. military service, number of men in puerto rico able to carry arms. mixed races; prejudice against. montbras, french pirate. morals in the island under spanish rule. morgan, sir henry, the pirate. mulattoes in the spanish colony. napoleon, his influence over spain. natives, see indians. negroes, introduced into santo domingo as slaves; into puerto rico; as slaves in puerto rico; introduced to save the indians from extermination; intermix with indians; number of, in the island; severe laws against. newspapers. o'daly, general, leads successful revolution in puerto rico. palm, coco-, introduced. papers, see newspapers. peasants of puerto rico. peru, gold discoveries there serve to attract many settlers from puerto rico. philip i, his character. philip ii, death of. pirates, see buccaneers and filibusters. pocock, english admiral, and the earl of albemarle, capture havana. political rights. ponce, juan, de leon, with columbus's second expedition; lands on puerto rico; appointed governor; deposed; restored; arrests ceron; recalled by the king of spain; defeats guaybána with , to , indians; deprived of his privileges; retires to capárra; prepares for exploring the island of bemini; discovers florida; honored by the king; ordered to destroy the caribs; accused of fomenting discord in puerto rico; last expedition to florida, wounded, dies; monument to him in san juan. population, growth of. portugal, alexander vi divides world between portugal and spain. press, the; first printing-press. prim, john, count of reus, his severe proclamation against the negroes. primitive inhabitants. products. puerto rico, discovery of; first settlement, at capárra; made a bishopric; name of puerto rico first used october, ; divided into two departments; capital transferred from capárra to present location, san juan; disease and pestilence; destructive storms; news of gold discoveries in peru causes many settlers to leave; inhabitants try to leave the island for the peru gold fields; devastated by french and indians; the inhabitants turn to agriculture, ; expedition sent against the french in santa cruz; english fleet, under the earl of estren, appears off san juan; used as a "presidio," or place of banishment for political prisoners for three centuries; condition of, in , described by alexander o'reilly; revolution headed by rafael diego and general o'daly, ; divided into seven judicial districts; political rights in the island; efforts of spain to promote development of the island; state of society, ; effects of carlist troubles in spain; resources of, diminished; description of the island in ; reform laws to relieve financial distress; promise of reforms; the new electoral law; conditions in the island immediately before the american occupation; becomes part of the united states; its advantageous situation; soil and products; harbors; climate; primitive inhabitants; present inhabitants; era of greatest prosperity under spanish rule. races in puerto rico. ramirez, francisco, president of the "republic of boriquén,". reforms, promise of, by spanish government; granted too late. religion of the peasantry. republic of boriquén proclaimed. revolution, against spanish oppression. rodney, english admiral, attacks french west indies. sables d'olone, french pirate. sagasta, suggests reforms in puerto rico and cuba. sail. salazar, diego do, heroic conduct of; defeats indians. san german founded. san juan, only settlement in puerto rico not destroyed by the french; the fort, "fortaleza," still used as governor's residence, built in ; fortification and improvement of; attacked by english fleet, under drake; captured by english, ; evacuated by the english; attacked by english; history of; replaces capárra as the capital. san juan bautista, island of (puerto rico). santa cruz taken and held by the french. santo domingo, discovery of. schools, number and attendance of, in . sedeño, contador of puerto rico; his peculations and death. slavery, indians placed in, through the system of "distribution.". slavery, negro, introduced into santo domingo; favored by church and state; first negro slaves in puerto rico; discussion of its abolition; abolition of; its history in the island; introduced to replace lost labor of the indians; england contracts to take , slaves into the spanish-american colonies in thirty years; slaves emancipated. spain, alexander vi divides the world between spain and portugal; effects of her disastrous wars; sends fleet against pirates in the west indies; abolishes the slave-trade. spaniards, number of, in puerto rico; as colonists in puerto rico; no women among early settlers. storms, damages by. sugar; the industry injured by production of beet-sugar. tiedra, vasco de, governor of puerto rico. tobacco, its cultivation permitted by a special law. trade, its growth. united states sends army to puerto rico; acquires the island. weyler, general, his inhuman proceedings in cuba. windward islands, discovered by columbus. women, none among early spanish settlers; education of, neglected. zambos, mixture of negro and indian. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ aladdin & co. a romance of yankee magic by herbert quick author of "virginia of the air lanes," "double trouble," etc. grosset & dunlap publishers--new york ------------------------------------------------------------------------ copyright henry holt and company copyright the bobbs-merrill company ------------------------------------------------------------------------ contents. page chapter i. which is of an introductory character chapter ii. still introductory chapter iii. reminiscentially autobiographical chapter iv. jim discovers his coral island chapter v. we reach the atoll chapter vi. i am inducted into the cave, and enlist chapter vii. we make our landing chapter viii. a welcome to wall street and us chapter ix. i go abroad and we unfurl the jolly roger chapter x. we dedicate lynhurst park chapter xi. the empress and sir john meet again chapter xii. in which the burdens of wealth begin to fall upon us chapter xiii. a sitting or two in the game with the world and destiny chapter xiv. in which we learn something of railroads, and attend some remarkable christenings chapter xv. some affairs of the heart considered in their relation to dollars and cents chapter xvi. some things which happened in our halcyon days chapter xvii. relating to the disposition of the captives chapter xviii. the going away of laura and clifford, and the departure of mr. trescott chapter xix. in which events resume their usual course--at a somewhat accelerated pace chapter xx. i twice explain the condition of the trescott estate chapter xxi. of conflicts, within and without chapter xxii. in which i win my great victory chapter xxiii. the "dutchman's mill" and what it ground chapter xxiv. the beginning of the end chapter xxv. that last weird battle in the west chapter xxvi. the end--and a beginning ------------------------------------------------------------------------ aladdin & co ------------------------------------------------------------------------ the persons of the story. james elkins, the "man who made lattimore," known as "jim." albert barslow, who tells the tale; the friend and partner of jim. alice barslow, his wife; at first, his sweetheart. william trescott, known as "bill," a farmer and capitalist. josephine trescott, his daughter. mrs. trescott, his wife. mr. hinckley, a banker of lattimore. mrs. hinckley, his wife; devoted to the emancipation of woman. antonia, their daughter. aleck macdonald, pioneer and capitalist. general lattimore, pioneer, soldier, and godfather of lattimore. miss addison, the general's niece. captain marion tolliver, confederate veteran and lattimore boomer. mrs. tolliver, his wife. will lattimore, a lawyer. mr. ballard, a banker. j. bedford cornish, a speculator, who with elkins, barslow, and hinckley make up the great lattimore "syndicate." clifford giddings, editor and proprietor of the lattimore herald. de forest barr-smith, an englishman "representing capital." cecil barr-smith, his brother. avery pendleton, of new york, a railway magnate; head of the "pendleton system." allen g. wade, of new york; head of the allen g. wade trust co. halliday, a railway magnate; head of the "halliday system." watson, a reporter. schwartz, a locomotive engineer on the lattimore & great western. hegvold, a fireman. citizens of lattimore, politicians, live-stock merchants, railway clerks and officials, etc. scene: principally in the western town of lattimore, but partly in new york and chicago. time: not so very long ago. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ aladdin & co chapter i. which is of introductory character. our national convention met in chicago that year, and i was one of the delegates. i had looked forward to it with keen expectancy. i was now, at five o'clock of the first day, admitting to myself that it was a bore. the special train, with its crowd of overstimulated enthusiasts, the throngs at the stations, the brass bands, bunting, and buncombe all jarred upon me. after a while my treason was betrayed to the boys by the fact that i was not hoarse. they punished me by making me sing as a solo the air of each stanza of "marching through georgia," "tenting to-night on the old camp-ground," and other patriotic songs, until my voice was assimilated to theirs. but my gorge rose at it all, and now, at five o'clock of the first day, i was seeking a place of retirement where i could be alone and think over the marvelous event which had suddenly raised me from yesterday's parity with the fellows on the train to my present state of exaltation. i should have preferred a grotto in vau vau or some south-looking mountain glen; but in the absence of any such retreat in chicago, i turned into the old art-gallery in michigan avenue. as i went floating in space past its door, my eye caught through the window the gleam of the white limbs of statues, and my being responded to the soul vibrations they sent out. so i paid my fee, entered, and found the tender solitude for which my heart longed. i sat down and luxuriated in thoughts of the so recent marvelous experience. need i explain that i was young and the experience was one of the heart? i was so young that my delegateship was regarded as a matter to excite wonder. i saw my picture in the papers next morning as a youth of twenty-three who had become his party's leader in an important agricultural county. some, in the shameless laudation of a sensational press, compared me to the younger pitt. as a matter of fact, i had some talent for organization, and in any gathering of men, i somehow never lacked a following. i was young enough to be an honest partisan, enthusiastic enough to be useful, strong enough to be respected, ignorant enough to believe my party my country's safeguard, and i was prominent in my county before i was old enough to vote. at twenty-one i conducted a convention fight which made a member of congress. it was quite natural, therefore, that i should be delegate to this convention, and that i had looked forward to it with keen expectancy. the remarkable thing was my falling off from its work now by virtue of that recent marvelous experience which as i have admitted was one of the heart. do not smile. at three-and-twenty even delegates have hearts. my mental and sentimental state is of importance in this history, i think, or i should not make so much of it. i feel sure that i should not have behaved just as i did had i not been at that moment in the iridescent cloudland of newly-reciprocated love. alice had accepted me not an hour before my departure for chicago. hence my loathing for such things as nominating speeches and the report of the committee on credentials, and my yearning for the vau vau grotto. she had yielded herself up to me with such manifold sweetnesses, uttered and unutterable (all of which had to be gone over in my mind constantly to make sure of their reality), that the contest in indiana, and the cause of our own state's favorite son, became sickening burdens to me, which rolled away as i gazed upon the canvases in the gallery. i lay back upon a seat, half closed my eyes, and looked at the pictures. when one comes to consider the matter, an art gallery is a wonderfully different thing from a national convention! as i looked on them, the still paintings became instinct with life. yonder shepherdess shielding from the thorns the little white lamb was alice, and back behind the clump of elms was myself, responding to her silvery call. the cottage on the mountain-side was ours. that lady waving her handkerchief from the promontory was alice, too; and i was the dim figure on the deck of the passing ship. i was the knight and she the wood-nymph; i the gladiator in the circus, she the roman lady who agonized for me in the audience; i the troubadour who twanged the guitar, she the princess whose fair shoulder shone through the lace at the balcony window. they lived and moved before my very eyes. i knew the unseen places beyond the painted mountains, and saw the secret things the artists only dreamed of. doves cooed for me from the clumps of thorn; the clouds sailed in pearly serenity across the skies, their shadows mottling mountain, hill, and plain; and out from behind every bole, and through every leafy screen, glimpsed white dryads and fleeing fays. clearly the convention hall was no place for me. "hang the speech of the temporary chairman, anyhow!" thought i; "and as for the platform, let it point with pride, and view with apprehension, to its heart's content; it is sure to omit all reference to the overshadowing issue of the day--alice!" all the world loves a lover, and a true lover loves all the world,--especially that portion of it similarly blessed. so, when i heard a girl's voice alternating in intimate converse with that of a man, my sympathies went out to them, and i turned silently to look. they must have come in during my reverie; for i had passed the place where they were sitting and had not seen them. there was a piece of grillwork between my station and theirs, through which i could see them plainly. the gallery had seemed deserted when i went in, and still seemed so, save for the two voices. hers was low and calm, but very earnest; and there was in it some inflection or intonation which reminded me of the country girls i had known on the farm and at school. his was of a peculiarly sonorous and vibrant quality, its every tone so clear and distinct that it would have been worth a fortune to a public speaker. such a voice and enunciation are never associated with any mind not strong in the qualities of resolution and decision. on looking at her, i saw nothing countrified corresponding to the voice. she was dressed in something summery and cool, and wore a sort of flowered blouse, the presence of which was explained by the easel before which she sat, and the palette through which her thumb protruded. she had laid down her brush, and the young man was using her mahlstick in a badly-directed effort to smear into a design some splotches of paint on the unused portion of her canvas. he was by some years her senior, but both were young--she, very young. he was swarthy of complexion, and his smoothly-shaven, square-set jaw and full red lips were bluish with the subcutaneous blackness of his beard. his dress was so distinctly late in style as to seem almost foppish; but there was nothing of the exquisite in his erect and athletic form, or in his piercing eye. she was ruddily fair, with that luxuriant auburn-brown hair which goes with eyes of amberish-brown and freckles. these latter she had, i observed with a renewal of the thought of the country girls and the old district school. she was slender of waist, full of bust, and, after a lissome, sylph-like fashion, altogether charming in form. with all her roundness, she was slight and a little undersized. so much of her as there was, the young fellow seemed ready to absorb, regarding her with avid eyes--a gaze which she seldom met. but whenever he gave his attention to the mahlstick, her eyes sought his countenance with a look which was almost scrutiny. it was as if some extrinsic force drew her glance to his face, until the stronger compulsion of her modesty drove it away at the return of his black orbs. my heart recognized with a throb the freemasonry into which i had lately been initiated, and, all unknown to them, i hailed them as members of the order. their conversation came to me in shreds and fragments, which i did not at all care to hear. i recognized in it those inanities with which youth busies the lips, leaving the mind at rest, that the interplay of magnetic discharges from heart to heart may go on uninterruptedly. it is a beautiful provision of nature, but i did not at that time admire it. i pitied them. alice and i had passed through that stage, and into the phase marked by long and eloquent silences. "i was brought up to think," i remember to have heard the fair stranger say, following out, apparently, some subject under discussion between them, "that the surest way to make a child steal jam is to spy upon him. i should feel ashamed." "quite right," said he, "but in europe and in the east, and even here in chicago, in some circles, it is looked upon as indispensable, you know." "in art, at least," she went on, "there is no sex. whoever can help me in my work is a companion that i don't need any chaperon to protect me from. if i wasn't perfectly sure of that, i should give up and go back home." "now, don't draw the line so as to shut me out," he protested. "how can i help you with your work?" she looked him steadily in the face now, her intent and questioning regard shading off into a somewhat arch smile. "i can't think of any way," said she, "unless it would be by posing for me." "there's another way," he answered, "and the only one i'd care about." she suddenly became absorbed in the contemplation of the paints on her palette, at which she made little thrusts with a brush; and at last she queried, doubtfully, "how?" "i've heard or read," he answered, "that no artist ever rises to the highest, you know, until after experiencing some great love. i--can't you think of any other way besides the posing?" she brought the brush close to her eyes, minutely inspecting its point for a moment, then seemed to take in his expression with a swift sweeping glance, resumed the examination of the brush, and finally looked him in the face again, a little red spot glowing in her cheek, and a glint of fire in her eye. i was too dense to understand it, but i felt that there was a trace of resentment in her mien. "oh, i don't know about that!" she said. "there may be some other way. i haven't met all your friends, and you may be the means of introducing me to the very man." i did not hear his reply, though i confess i tried to catch it. she resumed her work of copying one of the paintings. this she did in a mechanical sort of way, slowly, and with crabbed touches, but with some success. i thought her lacking in anything like control over the medium in which she worked; but the results promised rather well. he seemed annoyed at her sudden accession of industry, and looked sometimes quizzically at her work, often hungrily at her. once or twice he touched her hand as she stepped near him; but she neither reproved him nor allowed him to retain it. i felt that i had taken her measure by this time. she was some western country girl, well supplied with money, blindly groping toward the career of an artist. her accent, her dress, and her occupation told of her origin and station in life, and of her ambitions. the blindness i guessed,--partly from the manner of her work, partly from the inherent probabilities of the case. if the young man had been eliminated from this problem with which my love-sick imagination was busying itself, i could have followed her back confidently to some rural neighborhood, and to a year or two of painting portraits from photographs, and landscapes from "studies," and exhibiting them at the county fair; the teaching of some pupils, in an unnecessary but conscientiously thrifty effort to get back some of the money invested in an "art education" in chicago; and a final reversion to type after her marriage with the village lawyer, doctor or banker, or the owner of the adjoining farm. i was young; but i had studied people, and had already seen such things happen. but the young man could not be eliminated. he sat there idly, his every word and look surcharged with passion. as i wondered how long it would be until they were as happy as alice and i, the thought grew upon me that, however familiar might be the type to which she belonged, he was unclassified. his accent was eastern--of new york, i judged. he looked like the young men in the magazine illustrations--interesting, but outside my field of observation. and i could not fail to see that girl must find herself similarly at odds with him. "but," thought i, "love levels all!" and i freshly interrogated the pictures and statues for transportation to my own private elysium, forgetful of my unconscious neighbors. my attention was recalled to them, however, by their arrangements for departure, and a concomitant slightly louder tone in their conversation. "it's just a spectacular show," said he; "no plot or anything of that sort, you know, but good music and dancing; and when we get tired of it we can go. we'll have a little supper at auriccio's afterward, if you'll be so kind. it's only a step from mcvicker's." "won't it be pretty late?" she queried. "not for chicago," said he, "and you'll find material for a picture at auriccio's about midnight. it's quite like the latin quarter, sometimes." "i want to see the real latin quarter, and no imitation," she answered. "oh, i guess i'll go. it'll furnish me with material for a letter to mamma, however the picture may turn out." "i'll order supper for the empress," said he, "and--" "and for the illustrious sir john," she added. "but you mustn't call me that any more. i've been reading her history, and i don't like it. i'm glad he died on st. helena, now: i used to feel sorry for him." "transfer your pity to the downtrodden sir john," he replied, "and make a real living man happy." they passed out and left me to my dreams. but visions did not return. my idyl was spoiled. old-fashioned ideas emerged, and took form in the plain light of every-day common-sense. i knew the wonderfully gorgeous spectacle these two young people were going to see at the play that night, with its lights, its music, its splendidly meretricious orientalism. and i knew auriccio's,--not a disreputable place at all, perhaps; but free-and-easy, and distinctly bohemian. i wished that this little girl, so arrogantly and ignorantly disdainful (as alice would have been under the same circumstances) of such european conventions as the chaperon, so fresh, so young, so full of allurement, so under the influence of this smooth, dark, and passionate wooer with the vibrant voice, could be otherwise accompanied on this night of pleasure than by himself alone. "it's none of your business," said the voice of that cold-hearted and slothful spirit which keeps us in our groove, "and you couldn't do anything, anyhow. besides, he's abjectly in love with her: would there be any danger if it were you and your alice?" "i'm not at all sure about him or his abjectness," replied my uneasy conscience. "he knows better than to do this." "what do you know of either of them?" answered this same spirit of routine. "what signify a few sentences casually overheard? she may be something quite different; there are strange things in chicago." "i'll wager anything," said i hotly, "that she's a good american girl of the sort i live among and was brought up with! and she may be in danger." "if she's that sort of girl," said the voice, "you may rely upon her to take care of herself." "that's pretty nearly true," i admitted. "besides," said the voice illogically, "such things happen every night in such a city. it's a part of the great tragedy. don't be quixotic!" here was where the voice lost its case: for my conscience was stirred afresh; and i went back to the convention-hall carrying on a joint debate with myself. once in the hall, however, i was conscripted into a war which was raging all through our delegation over the succession in our membership in the national committee. i thought no more of the idyl of the art-gallery until the adjournment for the night. chapter ii. still introductory. the great throng from the hall surged along the streets in an amazonian network of streams, gathering in boiling lakes in the great hotels, dribbling off into the boarding-house districts in the suburbs, seeping down into the slimy fens of vice. again i found myself out of touch with it all. i gave my companions the slip, and started for my hotel. all at once it occurred to me that i had not dined, and with the thought came the remembrance of my pair of lovers, and their supper together. with a return of the feeling that these were the only people in chicago possessing spirits akin to mine, i shaped my course for auriccio's. my country dazedness led me astray once or twice, but i found the place, retreated into the farthest corner, sat down, and ordered supper. it was not one of the places where the out-of-town visitors were likely to resort, and it was in fact rather quieter than usual. the few who were at the tables went out before my meal was served, and for a few minutes i was alone. then the empress and sir john entered, followed by half a dozen other playgoers. the two on whom my sentimental interest was fixed came far down toward my position, attracted by the quietude which had lured me, and seated themselves at a table in a sort of alcove, cut off from the main room by columns and palms, secluded enough for privacy, public enough, perhaps, for propriety. so far as i was concerned i could see them quite plainly, looking, as i did, from my gloomy corner toward the light of the restaurant; and i was sufficiently close to be within easy earshot. i began to have the sensation of shadowing them, until i recalled the fact that, so far, it had been a case of their following me. i thought his manner toward her had changed since the afternoon. there was now an openness of wooing, an abandonment of reserve in glance and attitude, which should have admonished her of an approaching crisis in their affairs. yet she seemed cooler and more self-possessed than before. save for a little flutter in her low laugh, i should have pronounced her entirely at ease. she looked very sweet and girlish in her high-necked dress, which helped make up a costume that she seemed to have selected to subdue and conceal, rather than to display, her charms. if such was her plan, it went pitifully wrong: his advances went on from approach to approach, like the last manoeuvres of a successful siege. "no," i heard her say, as i became conscious that we three were alone again; "not here! not at all! stop!" when i looked at them they were quietly sitting at the table; but her face was pale, his flushed. pretty soon the waiter came and served champagne. i felt sure that she had never seen any before. "how funny it looks," said she, "with the bubbles coming up in the middle like a little fountain; and how pretty! why, the stem is hollow, isn't it?" he laughed and made some foolish remark about love bubbling up in his heart. when he set his glass down, i could see that his hands were trembling as with palsy,--so much so that it was tipped over and broken. "i'll fill another," said he. "aren't you sorry you broke it?" "i?" she queried. "you're not going to lay that to me, are you?" "you're the only one to blame!" he replied. "you must hold it till it's steady. i'll hold your glass with the other. why, you don't take any at all! don't you like it, dear?" she shrank back, looked toward the door, and then took the hand in both of hers, holding it close to her side, and drank the wine like a child taking medicine. his arm, his hand still holding the glass, slipped about her waist, but she turned swiftly and silently freed herself and sat down by the chair in which he had meant that both should sit, holding his hands. then in a moment i saw her sitting on the other side of the table, and he was filling the glasses again. the guests had all departed. the well-disciplined waiters had effaced themselves. only we three were there. i wondered if i ought to do anything. they sat and talked in low tones. he was drinking a good deal of the champagne; she, little; and neither seemed to be eating anything. he sat opposite to her, leaning over as if to consume her with his eyes. she returned his gaze often now, and often smiled; but her smile was drawn and tremulous, and, to my mind, pitifully appealing. i no longer wondered if i ought to do anything; for, once, when i partly rose to go and speak to them, the impossibility of the thing overcame my half resolve, and i sat down. the anti-quixotic spirit won, after all. at last a waiter, returning with the change for the bill with which i had paid my score, was hailed by sir john, and was paid for their supper. i looked to see them as they started for home. the girl rose and made a movement toward her wrap. he reached it first and placed it about her shoulders. in so doing, he drew her to him, and began speaking softly and passionately to her in words i could not hear. her face was turned upward and backward toward him, and all her resistance seemed gone. i should have been glad to believe this the safe and triumphant surrender to an honest love; but here, after the dances and stamboul spectacles, hidden by the palms, beside the table with its empty bottles and its broken glass, how could i believe it such? i turned away, as if to avoid the sight of the crushing of some innocent thing which i was powerless to aid, and strode toward the door. then i heard a little cry, and saw her come flying down the great hall, leaving him standing amazedly in the archway of the palm alcove. she passed me at the door, her face vividly white, went out into the street, like a dove from the trap at a shooting tournament, and sprang lightly upon a passing street-car. i could act now, and i would see her to a place of safety; so i, too, swung on by the rail of the rear car. she never once turned her face; but i saw sir john come to the door of the restaurant and look both ways for her, and as he stood perplexed and alarmed, our train turned the curve at the next corner, we were swept off toward the south side, and the dark young man passed, as i supposed, "into my dreams forever." i made my way forward a few seats and saw her sitting there with her head bowed upon the back of the seat in front of her. i bitterly wished that he, if he had a heart, might see her there, bruised in spirit, her little ignorant white soul, searching itself for smutches of the uncleanness it feared. i wished that alice might be there to go to her and comfort her without a word. i paid her fare, and the conductor seemed to understand that she was not to be disturbed. a drunken man in rough clothes came into the car, walked forward and looked at her a moment, and as i was about to go to him and make him sit elsewhere, he turned away and came back to the rear, as if he had some sort of maudlin realization that the front of the train was sacred ground. at last she looked about, signalled for the car to stop, and alighted. i followed, rather suspecting that she did not know her way. she walked steadily on, however, to a big, dark house with a vine-covered porch, close to the sidewalk. a stout man, coatless, and in a white shirt, stood at the gate. he wore a slouch hat, and i knew him, even in that dim light, for a farmer. she stopped for a moment, and without a word, sprang into his arms. "wal, little gal, ain't yeh out purty late?" i heard him say, as i walked past. "didn't expect yer dad to see yeh, did yeh? why, yeh ain't a-cryin', be yeh?" "o pa! o pa!" was all i heard her say; but it was enough. i walked to the corner, and sat down on the curbstone, dead tired, but happy. in a little while i went back toward the street-car line, and as i passed the vine-clad porch, heard the farmer's bass voice, and stopped to listen, frankly an eavesdropper, and feeling, somehow, that i had earned the right to hear. "why, o' course, i'll take yeh away, ef yeh don't like it here, little gal," he was saying. "yes, we'll go right in an' pack up now, if yeh say so. only it's a little suddent, and may hurt the madame's feelin's, y' know--" * * * * * at the hotel i was forced by the crowded state of the city to share the bed of one of my fellow delegates. he was a judge from down the state, and awoke as i lay down. "that you, barslow?" said he. "do you know a fellow by the name of elkins, of cleveland?" "no," said i, "why?" "he was here to see you, or rather to inquire if you were al barslow who used to live in pleasant valley township," the judge went on. "he's the fellow who organized the ohio flambeau brigade. seems smart." "pleasant valley township, did he say? yes, i know him. it's jimmie elkins." and i sank to sleep and to dreams, in which jimmie elkins, the empress, sir john, alice, and myself acted in a spectacular drama, like that at mcvicker's. and yet there are those who say there is nothing in dreams! chapter iii. reminiscentially autobiographical. this jimmie elkins was several years older than i; but that did not prevent us, as boys, from being fast friends. at seventeen he had a coterie of followers among the smaller fry of ten and twelve, his tastes clinging long to the things of boyhood. he and i played together, after the darkening of his lip suggested the razor, and when the youths of his age were most of them acquiring top buggies, and thinking of the long sunday-night drives with their girls. jim preferred the boys, and the trade of the fisher and huntsman. why, in spite of parental opposition, i loved jimmie, is not hard to guess. he had an odd and freakish humor, and talked more of indian-fighting, filibustering in gold-bearing regions, and of moving accidents by flood and field, than of crops, live-stock, or bowery dances. he liked me just as did the older men who sent me to the national convention,--in spite of my youth. he was a ne'er-do-weel, said my father, but i snared gophers and hunted and fished with him, and we loved each other as brothers seldom do. at last, i began teaching school, and working my way to a better education than our local standard accepted as either useful or necessary, and jim and i drifted apart. he had always kept up a voluminous correspondence with that class of advertisers whose black-letter "agents wanted" is so attractive to the farmer-boy; and he was usually agent for some of their wares. finally, i heard of him as a canvasser for a book sold by subscription,--a "veterinarians' guide," i believe it was,--and report said that he was "making money." again i learned that he had established a publishing business of some kind; and, later, that reverses had forced him to discontinue it,--the old farmer who told me said he had "failed up." then i heard no more of him until that night of the convention, when i had the adventure with the empress and sir john, all unknown to them; and jim made the ineffectual attempt to find me. his family had left the old neighborhood, and so had mine; and the chances of our ever meeting seemed very slight. in fact it was some years later and after many of the brave dreams of the youthful publicist had passed away, that i casually stumbled upon him in the smoking-room of a parlor-car, coming out of chicago. i did not know him at first. he came forward, and, extending his hand, said, "how are you, al?" and paused, holding the hand i gave him, evidently expecting to enjoy a period of perplexity on my part. but with one good look in his eyes i knew him. i made him sit down by me, and for half an hour we were too much engrossed in reminiscences to ask after such small matters as business, residence, and general welfare. "where all have you been, jim, and what have you been doing, since you followed off the 'veterinarians' guide,' and i lost you?" i inquired at last. "i've been everywhere, and i've done everything, almost," said he. "put it in the 'negative case,' and my history'll be briefer." "i should regard organizing a flambeau brigade," said i, "as about the last thing you would engage in." "ah!" he replied, "his whiskers at the hotel told you i called that time, did he? well, i didn't think he had the sense. and i doubted the memory on your part, and i wasn't at all sure you were the real barslow. but about the flambeaux. the fact is, i had some stock in the flambeau factory, and i was a rabid partisan of flambeaux. they seemed so patriotic, you know, so sort of ennobling, and so convincing, as to the merits of the tariff controversy!" it was the same old jim, i thought. "we used to have a scheme," i remarked, "our favorite one, of occupying an island in the pacific,--or was it somewhere in the vicinity of the spanish main--" "if it was the place where we were to make slaves of all the natives, and i was to be king, and you grand vizier," he answered, as if it were a weighty matter, and he on the witness-stand, "it was in the pacific--the south pacific, where the whale-oil comes from. a coral atoll, with a crystal lagoon in the middle for our ships, and a fringe of palms along the margin--coco-palms, you remember; and the lagoon was green, sometimes, and sometimes blue; and the sharks never came over the bar, but the porpoises came in and played for us, and made fireworks in the phosphorescent waves...." his eyes grew almost tender, as he gazed out of the window, and ceased to speak without finishing the sentence,--which it took me some minutes to follow out to the end, in my mind. i was delighted and touched to find these foolish things so green in his memory. "the plan involved," said i soberly, "capturing a spanish galleon filled with treasure, finding two lovely ladies in the cabin, and offering them their liberty. and we sailed with them for a port; and, as i remember it, their tears at parting conquered us, and we married them; and lived richer than oil magnates, and grander than monte cristos forever after: do you remember?" "remember! well, i should smile!"--he had been laughing like a boy, with his old frank laugh. "them's the things we don't forget.... did you ever gather any information as to what a galleon really was? i never did." "i had no more idea than i now have of the rosicrucian mysteries; and i must confess," said i, "that i'm a little hazy on the galleon question yet. as to piracy, now, and robbers and robbery, actual life fills out the gaps in the imagination of boyhood, doesn't it, jim?" "apt to," he assented, "but specifically? as to which, you know?" "well, i've had my share of experience with them," i answered, "though not so much in the line of rob-or, as we planned, but more as rob-ee." jim looked at me quizzically. "board of trade, faro, or ... what?" he ventured. "general business," i responded, "and ... politics." "local, state, or national?" he went on, craftily ignoring the general business. "a little national, some state, but the bulk of it local. i've been elected county treasurer, down where i live, for four successive terms." "good for you!" he responded. "but i don't see how that can be made to harmonize with your remark about rob-or and rob-ee. it's been your own fault, if you haven't been on the profitable side of the game, with the dear people on the other. and i judge from your looks that you eat three meals a day, right along, anyhow. come, now, b'lay this rob-ee business (as sir henry morgan used to say) till you get back to buncombe county. as a former partner in crime, i won't squeal; and the next election is some ways off, anyhow. no concealment among pals, now, al, it's no fair, you know, and it destroys confidence and breeds discord. many a good, honest, piratical enterprise has been busted up by concealment and lack of confidence. always trust your fellow pirates,--especially in things they know all about by extrinsic evidence,--and keep concealment for the great world of the unsophisticated and gullible, and to catch the sucker vote with. but among ourselves, my beloved, fidelity to truth, and openness of heart is the first rule, right out of hoyle. with dry powder, mutual confidence, and sharp cutlasses, we are invincible; and as the poet saith, "'far as the tum-te-tum the billows foam survey our empire and behold our home,' or words to that effect. and to think of your trying to deceive me, your former chieftain, who doesn't even vote in your county or state, and moreover always forgets election! rob-ee indeed! rats! al, i'm ashamed of you, by george, i am!" this speech he delivered with a ridiculous imitation of the tricks of the elocutionist. it was worthy of the burlesque stage. the conductor, passing through, was attracted by it, and notified us that the solitude of the smoking-room had been invaded, by a slight burst of applause at jim's peroration, followed by the vanishing of the audience. "no need for any further concealment on my part, so far as elections are concerned," said i, when we had finished our laugh, "for i go out of office january first, next." "oh, well, that accounts for it, then," said he. "i notice, say, three kinds of retirement from office: voluntary (very rare), post-convention, and post-election. which is yours?" "post-convention, i'm sorry to say. i wish it had been voluntary." "it _is_ the cheapest; but you're in great luck not to get licked at the polls. altogether, you're in great luck. you've been betting on a game in which the percentage is mighty big in favor of the house, and you've won three or four consecutive turns out of the box. you've got no kick coming: you're in big luck. don't you know you are?" i did not feel called upon to commit myself; and we smoked on for some time in silence. "it strikes me, jim," said i, at last, "that you've done all the cross-examination, and that it is time to listen to your report. how about you and your conduct?" "as for my conduct," was the prompt answer, "it's away up in the neighborhood of g. i've managed to hold the confounded world up for a living, ever since i left pleasant valley township. some of the time the picking has been better than at others; but my periods of starvation have been brief. by practicing on the 'veterinarians' guide' and other similar fakes, i learned how to talk to people so as to make them believe what i said about things, with the result, usually, of wooing the shrinking and cloistered dollar from its lair. when a fellow gets this trick down fine, he can always find a market for his services. i handled hotel registers, city directories, and like literature, including county histories--" "sh-h-h!" said i, "somebody might hear you." "--and at last, after a conference with my present employers, the error of my way presented itself to me, and i felt called to a higher and holier profession. i yielded to my good angel, turned my better nature loose, and became a missionary." "a what!" i exclaimed. "a missionary," he responded soberly. "that is, you understand, not one of these theological, india's-coral-strand guys; but one who goes about the united states of america in a modest and unassuming way, doing good so far as in him lies." "i see," said i, punning horribly, "'in him lies.'" "eh?... yes. have another cigar. well, now, you can't defend this foreign-mission business to me for a minute. the hills, right in this vicinity, are even now white to the harvest. folks here want the light just as bad as the foreign heathen; and so i took up my burden, and went out to disseminate truth, as the soliciting agent of the frugality and indemnity life association, which presented itself to me as the capacity in which i could best combine repentance with its fruits." "i perceive," said i. "perfectly plain, isn't it, to the seeing eye?" he went on. "you see it was like this: charley harper and i had been together in the garden city land company, years ago, during the boom--by the way, i didn't mention that in my report, did i? well, of course, that company went up just as they all did, and neither charley nor i got to be receiver, as we'd sort of laid out to do, and we separated. i went back to my literature--hotel registers, with an advertising scheme, with headquarters at cleveland. that's how i happened to be an ohio man at that national convention. charley always had a leaning toward insurance, and went down into illinois, and started a mutual-benefit organization, which he kept going a few years down on the farm--springfield, or jacksonville, or somewhere down there; and when i ketched up with him again, he was just changing it to the old-line plan, and bringing it to the metropolis. well, i helped him some to enlist capital, and he offered me the position of superintendent of agents. i accepted, and after serving awhile in the ranks to sort of get onto the ropes, here i am, just starting out on a trip which will take me through a number of states." "how does it agree with you?" i inquired. "not well," said he, "but the good i accomplish is a great comfort to me. on this trip, now, i expect to do much in the way of stimulating the boys up to their great work of spreading the light of the gospel of true insurance. sometimes, in these days of apathy and error, i find my burden a heavy one; and notwithstanding the quiet of conscience i gain, if it weren't for the salary, i'd quit to-morrow, al, danged if i wouldn't. it makes me tired to have even you sort of hint that i'm actuated by some selfish motive, when, in truth and in fact, i live but to gather widows and orphans under my wing, so to speak, and give second husbands a good start, by means of policies written on the only true plan, combining participation in profits with pure mutuality, and--" "never mind!" said i with a silence-commanding gesture. "i've heard all that before. you're onto the ropes thoroughly; but don't practice your infernal arts on me! i hope the salary is satisfactory?" "fairish; but not high, considering what they get for it." "you used to be more modest," said i. "i remember that you once nearly broke your heart because you couldn't summon up courage to ask creeshy hammond to go to the 'fourth' with you; d'ye remember?" "well, i guess, yes!" he replied. "wasn't i a miserable wretch for a few days! and i've never been able to ask any woman i cared about, the fateful question, yet." we went into the parlor-car, and talked over old times and new for an hour. i told him of my marriage and my home, and i studied him. i saw that he still preserved his humorous, mock-serious style of conversation, and that his hand-to-hand battle with the world had made him good-humoredly cynical. he evinced a knowledge of more things than i should have expected; and had somehow acquired an imposing manner, in spite of his rather slangy, if expressive, vocabulary. he had the power of making statements of mere opinion, which, from some vibration of voice or trick of expression, struck the hearer as solid facts, thrice buttressed by evidence. he bore no marks of dissipation, unless the occasional use of terms traceable to the turf or the gaming-table might be considered such; but these expressions, i considered, are so constantly before every reader of the newspapers that the language of the pulpit, even, is infected by them. their evidential value being thus destroyed, they ought not to be weighed at all, as against firm, wholesome flesh, a good complexion, and a clear eye, all of which mr. elkins possessed. "it's funny," said i, "how seldom i meet any of the old neighbor-boys. do you see any of them in your travels?" "not often," he answered, "but you remember little ed smith, who lived on the hayes place for a while, and brought the streaked snake into the schoolhouse while julia fanning was teaching? well, he was an architect at garden city, and lives in chicago now. we sort of chum together: saw him yesterday. he left garden city when the land company went up. i tell you, that was a hot town for a while! railroads, and factories, and irrigation schemes, and prices scooting toward the zenith, till you couldn't rest. if i'd got into that push soon enough, i shouldn't have made a thing but money; as it was, i didn't lose only what i had. a good many of the boys lost a lot more. but i tell you, al, a boom properly boomed is a sure thing." "you're a constant source of surprise to me, jim," said i. "i should have thought them sure to lose." "they're sure to win," said he earnestly. i demurred. "i don't see how that can possibly be," said i, "for of all things, booms seem to me the most fickle and incalculable." "they seem so," said he, smiling, but still in earnest, "to your rustic and untaught mind, and to most others, because they haven't been studied. the comet, likewise, doesn't seem very stable or dependable; but to the eye of the astronomer its orbit is plain, and the time of its return engagement pretty certain. it's the same with seventeen-year locusts--and booms; their visits are so far apart that the masses forget their birthmarks and the w's on their backs. but if you'll follow their appearances from place to place, as i've done, putting up my ante right along for the privilege, you'll become an accomplished boomist; and from the first gentle stirrings of boom-sprouts in the soil, so to speak, you can forecast their growth, maturity, and collapse." "i must be permitted to doubt it," said i. "it's easy, my son," he resumed, "dead easy, and it's psychology on the hugest scale; and among the results of its study is constant improvement of the mind, going on coincidentally with the preparation of the way to the ownership of steam-yachts and racing-stables, or any other similar trifles you hanker for." "great brain, jim! massive intellect!" said i, laughing at the fantastic absurdity of his assertion. "why, such knowledge as you possess is better than straight tips on all the races ever to be run. it's better than our tropical island and spanish galleons. you get richer, and you don't have to look out for men-of-war. do i hold my job as grand vizier?" "you hold any job you'll take: i'll make out the appointment with the position and salary blank, and you can fill it up. and if you get dissatisfied with that, the old grand hailing-sign of distress will catch the speaker's eye, any old time. but, i tell you, al, in all seriousness, i'm right about this boom business. they're all alike, and they all have the same history. with the conditions right, one can be started anywhere in a growing country. i've had my ear to the ground for a while back, and i've heard things. i'm sure i detect some of the premonitory symptoms: money piling up in the financial centers; property away down, but strengthening, in the newer regions; and, lately, a little tendency to take chances in investments, forgetting the scorching of ten or twelve years ago. a new generation of suckers is gettin' ready to bite. look into this thing, al, and don't be a chump." "the same old jim," said i; "you were manipulating a corner in tobacco-tags while i was learning my letters." "do you ever forget anything?" he inquired. "i have about forgotten that myself. how was that tobacco-tag business, al?" then with the painstaking circumstantiality of two old schoolmates luxuriating in memories, we talked over the tobacco-tag craze which swept through our school one winter. everything in life takes place in school, and the "tobacco-tag craze" has quite often recurred to me as showing boys acting just as men act, and jimmie elkins as the born stormy petrel of financial seas. it all came back to our minds, and we reconstructed this story. the manufacturers of "tomahawk plug" had offered a dozen photographs of actresses and dancers to any one sending in a certain number of the tin hatchets concealed in their tobacco. the makers of "broad-axe navy" offered something equally cheap and alluring for consignments of their brass broad-axes. the older boys began collecting photographs, and a market for tobacco-tags of certain kinds was established. we little fellows, though without knowledge of the mysterious forces which had given value to these bits of metal, began to pick up stray tags from sidewalk, foot-path, and floor. a marked upward tendency soon manifested itself. boys found their "broad-axe" or "door-key" tags, picked up at night, doubled in value by morning. the primary object in collecting tags was forgotten in the speculative mania which set in. who would exchange "tomahawk" tags for the counterfeit presentment of décolleté dancers, when by holding them he could make cent-per-cent on his investment of hazel-nuts and slate-pencils? the playground became a board of trade. we learned nothing but mental arithmetic applied to deals in "door-keys," "arrow-heads," and other tag properties. we went about with pockets full of tags. jim, not yet old enough to admire the beauties of the photographs, came forward in a week as the napoleon of tobacco-tag finance. he acquired tags in the slumps, and sold them in the bulges. he raided particular brands with rumors of the vast supply with which the village boys were preparing to flood us. he converted his holdings into marbles and tops. finally, he planned his master-stroke. he dropped mysterious hints regarding some tag considered worthless. he asked us in whispers if we had any. others followed his example, and "door-key" tags went above all others and were scarce at any price. then jimmie elkins brought out the supply which he had "cornered," threw it on the market, and before it had time to drop took in a large part of the playground currency. i lost to him a good drawing-slate and a figure- trap. jimmie pocketed his winnings, but the trouble attracted the attention of the teacher, and under adverse legislation a period of liquidation set in. the distress was great. many found themselves with property which was not convertible into photographs or anything else. to make matters worse, the discovery was made that the big boys had left school to begin the spring's work, and no one wanted the photographs. bankrupt and disillusioned, we returned to the realities of kites, marbles, and knives, most of which we had to obtain from jimmie elkins. "yes," said he, "it's a good deal the same with booms. but if you understand 'em ... eh, al?" "well," said i, really impressed now, "i'll look into it. and when you get ready to sow your boom-seed, let me know. i change cars in a few minutes, and you go on. come down and see me sometimes, can't you? we haven't had our talk half out yet. doesn't your business ever bring you down our way?" "it hasn't yet, but i'm coming down into that neck of the woods within six weeks, and i guess i can fix it so's to stop off,--mingling pleasure and business. it's the only way the hustling philanthropist of my style ever gets any recreation." "do it," said i; "i'll have plenty of time at my disposal; for i go out of office before that time; and i may want to go into your boom-hatchery." "on the theory that the great adversary of mankind runs an employment agency for ex's? there's the whistle for your junction. by george, al, i can't tell you how glad i am to have ketched up with you again! i've wondered about you a million times. don't let's lose track of each other again." "no, no, jim, we won't!" the train was coming to a stop. "don't allow anything to side-track you and prevent that visit." "well, i should say not," he answered, following me out upon the platform of the station. "we'll have a regular piratical reunion--a sort of buccaneers' camp-fire. i've a curiosity to see some of the fellows who acted the part of rob-or to your rob-ee. i want to hear their side of the story. good-by, al. confound it, i wish you were going on with me!" he wrung my hand at parting, reminding me of the old jim who studied from the same geography with me, more than at any time since we met. he stayed with me until after his train had started, caught hold of the hand-rail as the rear car went by, and passed out of view, waving his hand to me. i sat down on a baggage-truck waiting for my train, thinking of my encounter with jim. all the way home i was busy pondering over a thousand things thus suddenly recalled to me. i could see every fence-corner and barn, every hill and stream of our old haunts; and after i got home i told alice all about it. "he seems quite a remarkable fellow," said i, "and a perfect specimen of the pusher and hustler--a quick-witted man of affairs. if he is ever put down, he can't be kept down." "i think i prefer a more refined type of man," said alice. "in the sixteenth century," i went on with that excessive perspicacity which our wives have to put up with, "he'd have been a drake or a dampier; in the seventeenth, the commander of a privateer or slaver; in this age, i shall not be at all surprised if he turns out a great railway or financial magnate. it's like a whiff of boyhood to talk with him; though he's a greatly different sort of man from what i should have expected to find him. i think you'll like him." she seemed dubious about this. our wives instinctively disapprove of people we used to know prior to that happy meeting which led to marriage. this prejudice, for some reason, is stronger against our feminine acquaintances than the others. i am not analytical enough to do more than point out this feeling, which will, i think, be admitted by all husbands to exist. "that sort of man," said she, "lacks the qualities of bravery and intrepidity which make up a drake or a dampier. they are so a-scheming and calculating!" "the last time i saw jim until to-day," said i, "he did something which seems to show that he had those more admirable qualities." then i told her that story of jim and the mad dog, which is remembered in pleasant valley to this day. some say the dog was not mad; but i, who saw his terrible, insane look as he came snapping and frothing down the road, believe that he was. jim had left the school for a year or so, and i was a "big boy" ready to leave it. it was at four one afternoon, and as the children filed into the road, there met them the shouts of men and cries of "run! run! mad dog!" the children scattered like a covey of quail; but a pair of little five-year-olds, forgotten by the others, walked on hand in hand, looking into each other's faces, right toward the poor crazed, hunted brute, which trotted slowly toward the children, gnashing its frothing jaws at sticks and weeds, at everything it met, ready to bury its teeth in the first baby to come within reach. a young man with a canvasser's portfolio stood behind a fence over which he had jumped to avoid the dog. suddenly he saw the children, knew their danger, and leaped back into the road. it was like a bull-fighter vaulting the barriers into the perils of the arena,--only it was to save, not to destroy. the dog had passed him and was nearer the children than he was. i wondered what he expected to do as i saw him running lightly, swiftly, and yet quietly behind the terrible beast. as he neared the animal, he stooped, and my blood froze as i saw him seize the dog with both hands by the hinder legs. the head curled sidewise and under, and the teeth almost grazed the young man's hands with a vicious, metallic snap. then we saw what the contest was. the young man, with a powerful circling sweep of his arms, whirled the dog so swiftly about his head that the lank frame swung out in a straight line, and the snap could not be repeated. but what of the end? no muscles could long stand such a strain, and when they yielded, then what? then we saw that as he swung his loathsome foe, the young man was gradually approaching the schoolhouse. we saw the horrible snapping head whirl nearer and nearer at every turn to the corner of the building. then we saw the young man strike a terrible blow at the stone wall, using the dog as a club; and in a moment i saw the stones splashed with red, and the young man lying on the ground, where the violence of his effort had thrown him, and by him lay the quivering form of what we had fled from. and the young man was james elkins. alice breathed hard as i finished, and stood straight with her chin held high. "that was fine!" said she. "i want to see that man!" chapter iv. jim discovers his coral island. there has long been abroad in the world a belief that events which bear some controlling relation to one's destiny are announced by premonition, some spiritual trepidation, some movement of that curtain which cuts off our view of the future. i believe this notion to be false, but feel that it is true; and the manner in which that adventure of mine in the old art gallery and at auriccio's impressed my mind, and the way in which my memory clung to it, seem to justify my feeling rather than my belief. whenever i visited chicago, i went to the gallery, more in the hope of seeing the girl whose only name to me was "the empress" than to gratify my cravings for art. i felt a boundless pity for her--and laughed at myself for taking so seriously an incident which, in all likelihood, she herself dismissed with a few tears, a few retrospective burnings of heart and cheek. but i never saw her. once i loitered for an hour about the boarding-house with the vine-clad porch, while the boarders (mostly students, i judged) came and went; but though i saw many young girls, the empress was not among them. and all this time the years were rolling on, and i was permitting my once bright political career to blight and wither by my own neglect, as a growth not worth caring for. i became a private citizen in due time, but found no comfort in leisure. i was in those doldrums which beset the politician when rivals justle him from his little eminence. one who, for years, is annually or biennially complimented by the suffrages of even a few thousands of his fellow citizens, and is invited into the penetralia of a great political party, is apt to regard himself, after a while, as peculiarly deserving of the plaudits of the humble and the consideration of the powerful. then comes the inevitable hour when pussy finds himself without a corner. the deep disgust for party and politics which then takes possession of him demands change of scene and new surroundings. any flagging in partisan enthusiasm is sure to be attributed to sore-headedness, and leads to charges of perfidy and thanklessness. yet, for him, the choice lies between abated zeal and hypocrisy, inasmuch as no man can normally be as zealous for his party as the fanatic into which the candidate or incumbent converts himself. underlying my whole frame of mind was the knowledge that, so far as making a career was concerned, i had wasted several years of my life, and had now to begin anew. add to this a slight sense of having played an unworthy part in life (although here i was unable to particularize), and a new sense of aloofness from the people with whom i had been for so long on terms of hearty and back-slapping familiarity, and no further reason need be sought for a desire which came mightily upon me to go away and begin life over again in a new _milieu_. in spite of the mild opposition of my wife, this desire grew to a resolve; and i came to look upon myself as a temporary sojourner in my own home. such was the state of our affairs, when a letter came from mr. elkins (in lieu of the promised visit) urging me to remove to the then obscure but since celebrated town of lattimore. "i got to be too rich for charley harper's blood," said the letter, among other things. "i wanted as much in the way of salary as i could earn, working for myself, and charley kicked--said the directors wouldn't consent, and that such a salary list would be a black eye for the frugality and indemnity if it showed up in its statements. so i quit. i am loan agent for the company here, which gives me a visible means of support, and keeps me from being vagged. but, in confidence, i want to tell you that my main graft here is the putting in operation of my boom-hatching scheme. come out, and i'll enroll you as a member of the band once more; for this is the coral atoll for me. you ought to get out of that stagnant pond of yours, and come where the natatory medium is fresh, clean, and thickly peopled with suckers, and a new run of 'em coming on right soon. in other words, get into the swim." after reading this letter and considering it as a whole, i was so much impressed by it that lattimore was added to the list of places i meant to visit, on a tour i had planned for myself. in the west, all roads run to or from chicago. it is nearer to almost any place by the way of chicago than by any other route: so alice and i went to the city by the lake, as the beginning of our prospecting tour. i took her to the art gallery and showed her just where my two lovers had stood,--telling her the story for the first time. then she wanted to eat a supper at auriccio's; and after the play we went there, and i was forced to describe the whole scene over again. "didn't she see you at all?" she asked. "not at all," said i. "you are a good boy," said my wife, judging me by one act which she approved. "kiss me." this occurred after we reached our lodgings. i suggested as a change of subject that my next day's engagements took me to the stock yards, and i assumed that she would scarcely wish to accompany me. "i think i prefer the stores," said she, "and the pictures. maybe _i_ shall have an adventure." at the big exchange building, i found that the acquaintance whom i sought was absent from his office, and i roamed up and down the corridors in search of him. as usual the gathering here was intensely western. there were bronzed cattlemen from every range from amarillo to the belle fourche, sturdy buyers of swine from iowa and illinois, sombreroed sheepmen from new mexico, and vikingesque swedes from north dakota. men there were wearing thousand-dollar diamonds in red flannel shirts, solid gold watch-chains made to imitate bridle-bits, and heavy golden bullocks sliding on horse-hair guards. it pleased me, as such a crowd always does. the laughter was loud but it was free, and the hunted look one sees on state street and michigan avenue was absent. "i wish alice had come," said i, noting the flutter of skirts in a group of people in the corridor; and then, as i came near, the press divided, and i saw something which drew my eyes as to a sight in which lay mystery to be unraveled. facing me stood a stout farmer in a dark suit of common cut and texture. he seemed, somehow, not entirely strange; but the petite figure of the girl whose back was turned to me was what fixed my attention. she wore a smart traveling-gown of some pretty gray fabric, and bore herself gracefully and with the air of dominating the group of commission men among whom she stood. i noted the incurved spine, the deep curves of the waist, and the liberal slope of the hips belonging to a shapely little woman in whom slimness was mitigated in adorable ways, which in some remote future bade fair to convert it into matronliness. under a broad hat there showed a wealth of red-brown hair, drawn up like a sunburst from a slender little neck. "i have provided a box at hooley's," said the head of a great commission firm. "mrs. johnson will be with us. we may count upon you?" "i think so," said the girl, "if papa hasn't made any engagements." the stout farmer blushed as he looked down at his daughter. "engagements, eh? no, sir!" he replied. "she runs things after the steers is unloaded. whatever the little gal says goes with me." they turned, and as they came on down the hall, still chatting, i saw her face, and knew it. it was the empress! but even in that glimpse i saw the change which years had brought. now she ruled instead of submitting; her voice, still soft and low, had lost its rustic inflections; and in spite of the change in the surroundings,--the leap from the art gallery to the stock yards,--there was more of the artist now, and less of the farmer's lass. they turned into a suite of offices and disappeared. "well, mr. barslow," said my friend, coming up. "glad to see you. i've been hunting for you." "who is that girl and her father?" i asked. "one of the johnson commission company's shippers," said he, "prescott, from lattimore; i wish i could get his shipments." "no!" said i, "not lattimore!" "prescott of lattimore," he repeated. "know anything of him?" "n-no," said i. "i have friends in that town." "i wish i had," was the reply; "i'd try to get old prescott's business." * * * * * "there's destiny in this," said alice, when i told her of my encounter with the empress and her father. "her living in lattimore is not an accident." "i doubt," said i, "if anybody's is." "she looked nice, did she?" alice went on, "and dressed well?" and without waiting for an answer added: "let's leave chicago. i'm anxious to get to lattimore!" chapter v. we reach the atoll. so we journeyed on to duluth, to st. paul and minneapolis, and to the cities on the missouri. it was at one of those recurrent periods when the fever of material and industrial change and development breaks out over the whole continent. the very earth seemed to send out tingling shocks of some occult stimulus; the air was charged with the ozone of hope; and subtle suggestions seemed to pass from mind to mind, impelling men to dare all, to risk all, to achieve all. in every one of these young cities we were astonished at the changes going on under our very eyes. streets were torn up for the building of railways, viaducts, and tunnels. buildings were everywhere in course of demolition, to make room for larger edifices. excavations yawned like craters at street-corners. steel pillars, girders, and trusses towered skyward,--skeletons to be clothed in flesh of brick and stone. suburbs were sprouting, almost daily, from the mould of the market-gardens in the purlieus. corporations were contending for the possession of the natural highway approaches to each growing city. street-railway companies pushed their charters to passage at midnight sessions of boards of aldermen, seized streets in the night-time, and extended their metallic tentacles out into the fields of dazed farmers. on the frontiers, counties were organized and populated in a season. every one of them had its two or three villages, which aped in puny fashion the achievements of the cities. new pine houses dotted prairies, unbroken save for the mile-long score of the delimiting plow. long trains of emigrant-cars moved continually westward. the world seemed drunk with hope and enthusiasm. the fulfillment of jim's careless prophecy had burst suddenly upon us. such things as these were fresh in our memories when we reached lattimore. i had wired elkins of our coming, and he met us at the station with a carriage. it was one sunny september afternoon when he drove us through the streets of our future home to the principal hotel. "we have supper at six, dinner at twelve-thirty, breakfast from seven to ten," said jim, as we alighted at the hotel. "that's the sort of bucolic municipality you've struck here; we'll shove all these meals several hours down, when we get to doubling our population. you'll have an hour to get freshened up for supper. afterwards, if mrs. barslow feels equal to the exertion, we'll take a drive about the town." lattimore was a pretty place then. low, rounded hills topped with green surrounded it. the river flowed in a broad, straight reach along its southern margin. a clear stream, brushy creek, ran in a miniature canyon of limestone, through the eastern edge of the town. on each side of this brook, in lawns of vivid green, amid natural groves of oak and elm, interspersed with cultivated greenery, stood the houses of the well-to-do. trees made early twilight in most of the streets. people were out in numbers, driving in the cool autumnal evening. as a handsome girl, a splendid blonde, drove past us, my wife spoke of the excellent quality of the horseflesh we saw. jim answered that lattimore was a center of equine culture, and its citizens wise in breeders' lore. the appearance of things impressed us favorably. there was an air of quiet prosperity about the place, which is unusual in western towns, where quietude and progress are apt to be thought incompatible. jim pointed out the town's natural advantages as we drove along. "what do you think of that, now?" said he, waving his whip toward the winding gorge of brushy creek. "it's simply lovely!" said alice, "a little jewel of a place." "a bit of mountain scenery on the prairie," said jim. "and more than that, or less than that, just as you look at it, it's the source from which inexhaustible supplies of stone will be quarried when we begin to build things." "but won't that spoil it?" said alice. "well, yes; and down on that bottom we've found as good clay for pottery, sewer-pipes, and paving-brick as exists anywhere. back there where you saw that bluff along the river--looks as if it's sliding down into the water--remember it? well, there's probably the only place in the world where there's just the juxtaposition of sand and clay and chalk to make portland cement. supply absolutely unlimited! why, there ought to be a thousand men employed right now in those cement works. oh, i tell you, things'll hum here when we get these schemes working!" we laughed at him: his visualization of the cement works was so complete. "i suppose you know where all the capital is coming from," said i, "to do all these things? for my part, i see no way of getting it except our old plan of buccaneering." "exactly my idea!" said he. "didn't i write you that i'd enroll you as a member of the band? has al ever told you, mrs. barslow, of our old times, when we, as individuals, were passing through our sixteenth-century stage?" "often," alice replied. "he looks back upon his pirate days as a time of arcadian simplicity, 'untouched by sorrow, and unsoiled by sin.'" "i can easily understand," said jim reflectively, "how piracy might appear in that roseate light after a few years of practical politics. now from the moral heights of a life-insurance man's point of view it's different." so we rode on chatting and chaffing, now of the old time, now of the new; and all the time i felt more and more impressed by the dissolving views which jim gave us of different parts of his program for making lattimore the metropolis of "the world's granary," as he called the surrounding country. as we topped a low hill on our way back, he pulled up, to give us a general view of the town and suburbs, and of the great expanse of farming country beyond. between us and lattimore was a mile stretch of gently descending road, with grain-fields and farm-houses on each side. "by the way," said he, "do you see that white house and red barn in the maple grove off to the right? well, you remember bill trescott?" neither of us could call such a person to mind. "well, it's all right, i suppose," he went on in a tone implying injury forgiven, "but you mustn't let bill know you've forgotten him. the trescotts used to live over by the whitney schoolhouse in greenwood township,--right on the pleasant valley line, you know. he remembers you folks, al. i'll drive over that way." there were beds of petunias and four-o'clocks to be seen dimly glimmering in the dusk, as we drove through the broad gate. men and women were gathered in a group about the base of the windmill, as jim's loud "whoa" announced our arrival. the women melted away in the direction of the house. the men stood at gaze. "hello, bill!" shouted jim. "come out here!" "oh, it's you, is it, mr. elkins," said a deep voice. "i didn't know yeh." "thought it was the sheriff with a summons, eh? well, i guess hardly!" said jim. "mr. trescott, i want you to shake hands with our old friend mr. barslow." a heavy figure detached itself from the group, and, as it approached, developed indistinctly the features of a brawny farmer, with a short, heavy, dark beard. "wal, i declare, i'm glad to see yeh!" said he, as he grasped my hand. "i'd a'most forgot yeh, till mr. elkins told me you remembered my whalin' them dutch boys at a scale onct." i had had no recollection of him; yet form and voice seemed vaguely familiar. i assured him that my memory for names and faces was excellent. after being duly presented to mrs. barslow, he urged us to alight and come in. we offered as an excuse the lateness of the hour. "why, you hain't seen my family yet, mr. barslow," said he. "they'll be disappointed if yeh don't come in." i suggested that we were staying for a few days at the centropolis; and alice added that we should be glad to see himself and mrs. trescott there at any time during our stay. elkins promised that we should all drive out again. "wal, now, you must," said mr. trescott. "we must talk over ol' times and--" "fight over old battles," replied jim. "all the battles were yours, though, eh, bill?" "huh, huh!" chuckled bill; "fightin's no credit to any man; but i 'spose i fit my sheer when i was a boy--when i was a boy, y' know, mrs. barslow, and had more sand than sense. here, josie, here's mr. elkins and some old friends of mine. mr. and mrs. barslow, my daughter." she was a little slim slip of a thing, in white, and emerged from the shrubbery at mr. trescott's call. she bowed to us, and said she was sorry that we could not stop. her voice was sweet, and there was something unexpectedly cool and self-possessed in her intonation. it was not in the least the speech of the ordinary neat-handed phyllis or neæra; nor was her attitude at all countrified as she stood with her hand on her father's arm. the increasing darkness kept us from seeing her features. "josie's my right-hand man," said her father. "half the business of the farm stops when josie goes away." my wife expressed her admiration for lattimore and its environs, and especially for so much of the trescott farm as could be seen in the deepening gloaming. the flowers, she said, took her back to her childhood's home. "let me give you these," said the girl, handing alice a great bunch of blossoms which she had been cutting when her father called, and had held in her hands as we talked. my wife thanked her, and buried her face in them, as we bade the trescotts good-night and drove home. "that girl," said jim, as we spun along the road in the light of the rising moon, "is a crackerjack. bill thinks the world of her, and she certainly gives him a mother's care!" "she seems nice," said alice, "and so refined, apparently." "been well educated," said jim, "and got a head, besides. you'll like her; she knows europe better than some folks know their own front yard." "i was surprised at the vividness of my memory of bill's youthful combats," said i. jim's laugh rang out heartily through the brushy creek gorge. "well, i supposed you remembered those things, of course," said he, "and so i insinuated some impression of the delight with which you dwell upon the stories of his prowess. it made him feel good.... i'm spoiling bill, i guess, with these tales. he'll claim to have a private graveyard next. as harmless a fellow as you ever saw, and the best cattle-feeder hereabouts. got a good farm out there, bill has; we may need it for stock yards or something, later on." "why not hire a corps of landscape-gardeners, and make a park of it?" i inquired sarcastically. "we'll certainly need breathing-spaces for the populace." "good idea!" he returned gravely. and as he halted the equipage at the hotel, he repeated meditatively: "a mighty good idea, al; we must figure on that a little." we were tired to silence when we reached our rooms; so much so that nothing seemed to make a defined and sharp impression upon my mind. i kept thinking all the time that i must have been mistaken in my first thought that i had never known the trescotts. "their voices seem familiar to me," said i, "and yet i can't associate them with the old home at all. it's very odd!" as alice stood before the mirror shaking down and brushing her hair, she said: "do you suppose he thought you in earnest about that absurd park?" "no," i answered, "he understood me well enough; but what puzzles me is the question, was _he_ in earnest?" * * * * * in the middle of the night i woke with a perfectly clear idea as to the identity of the trescotts! prescott, trescott! josie, josephine the "empress"! and then the voice and figure! "why are you sitting up in bed?" inquired alice. "i have made a discovery," said i. "that man at the stock yards meant trescott, not prescott." "i don't understand," said she sleepily. "in a word," said i, "the girl who gave you the flowers is the empress!" "albert barslow!" said alice. "why--" my wife was silent for a long time. "i knew we'd meet her," she said at last. "it is fate." chapter vi. i am inducted into the cave, and enlist. "here's the cave," said jim, at the door of his office, next morning. "as prospective joint-proprietor and co-malefactor, i bid you welcome." the smiles with which the employees resumed their work indicated that the extraordinary character of this welcome was not lost upon them. the office was on the ground-floor of one of the more pretentious buildings of lattimore's main street. the post-office was on one side of it, and the first national bank on the other. over it were the offices of lawyers and physicians. it was quite expensively fitted up; and the plate-glass front glittered with gold-and-black sign-lettering. the chairs and sofas were upholstered in black leather. on the walls hung several decorative advertisements of fire-insurance companies, and maps of the town, county, and state. rolls of tracing-paper and blueprints lay on the flat-topped tables, reminding one of the office of an architect or civil engineer. a thin young man worked at books, standing at a high desk; and a plump young woman busily clicked off typewritten matter with an up-to-date machine. "you'll find some books and papers on the table in the next room," said jim, as i finished my first look about. "i'll ask you to amuse yourself with 'em for a little while, until i can dispose of my morning's mail; after which we'll resume our hunt for resources. we haven't any morning paper yet, and the evening _herald_ is shipped in by freight and edited with a saw. but it's the best we've got--yet." he read his letters, ran his eyes over his newspapers and a magazine or two, and dictated some correspondence, interrupted occasionally by callers, some of whom he brought into the room where i was whiling away the time, examining maps, and looking over out-of-date copies of the local papers. one of these callers was mr. hinckley, the cashier of the bank, who came to see about some insurance matters. he was spare, aquiline, and white-mustached; and very courteously wished lattimore the good fortune of securing so valuable an acquisition as ourselves. it would place lattimore under additional obligations to mr. elkins, who was proving himself such an effective worker in all public matters. "mr. elkins," said he, "has to a wonderful degree identified himself with the material progress of the city. he is constantly bringing here enterprising and energetic business men; and we could better afford to lose many an older citizen." i asked mr. hinckley as to the length of his own residence in lattimore. "i helped to plat the town, sir," said he. "i carried the chain when these streets were surveyed,--a boy just out of bowdoin college. that was in ' . i staged it for four hundred miles to get here. aleck macdonald and i came together, and we've both staid from that day. the indians were camped at the mouth of brushy creek; and except for old pierre lacroix, a squaw-man, we were for a month the only white men in these parts. then general lattimore came with a party of surveyors, and by the fall there was quite a village here." jim came in with another gentleman, whom he introduced as captain tolliver. the captain shook my hand with profuse politeness. "i am delighted to see you, suh," said he. "any friend of mr. elkins i shall be proud to know. i heah that mrs. barslow is with you. i trust, suh, that she is well?" i informed him that my wife was in excellent health, being completely recovered from the fatigue of her journey. "ah! this aiah, this aiah, mr. barslow! it is like wine in its invigorating qualities, like wine, suh. look at mr. hinckley, hyah, doing the work of two men fo' a lifetime; and younge' now than any of us. come, suh, and make yo' home with us. you nevah can regret it. delighted to have you call at my office, suh. i am proud to have met you, and hope to become better acquainted with you. i hope mrs. tulliver and mrs. barslow may soon meet. good-morning, gentlemen." and he hurried out, only to reappear as soon as mr. hinckley was gone. "by the way, mr. barslow," he whispered, "should you come to lattimore, as i have no doubt you will, i have some of the choicest residence property in the city, which i shall be mo' than glad to show you. title perfect, no commissions to pay, city water, gas, and electric light in prospect. cain't yo' come and look it ovah now, suh?" "who is this captain tolliver, jim," i asked as we went out of the office together, "and what is he?" "in other words, 'who and what art thou, execrable shape?' well, now, don't ask me. i've known him for years; in fact, he suggested to me the possibilities of this burg. in a way, the city is indebted to him for my presence here. but don't ask me about him--study him. and don't buy lots from him. the captain has his failings, but he has also his strong points and his uses; and i'll be mistaken if he isn't cast for a fairly prominent part in the drama we're about to put on here. but don't spoil your enjoyment by having him described to you. let him dawn on you by degrees." that day i met most of the prominent men of the town. jim took me into the banks, the shops, and the offices of the leading professional gentlemen. he informed them that i was considering the matter of coming to live among them; and i found them very friendly, and much interested in our proposed change of residence. they all treated jim with respect, and his manner toward them had a dignity which i had not looked for. evidently he was making himself felt in the community. when we returned to the centropolis at noon, we found mrs. trescott and her daughter chatting with my wife. the elder woman was ill-groomed, as are all women of her class in comparison with their town sisters, and angular. i knew the type so well that i could read the traces of farm cares in her face and form. the serving of gangs of harvesters and threshers, the ever-recurring problems of butter, eggs, and berries, the unflagging fight, without much domestic help, for neatness and order about the house, had impressed their stamp upon mrs. trescott. but she was chatting vivaciously, and assuring mrs. barslow that such a thing as staying longer in town that morning was impossible. "i can feel in my bones," said she, "that there's something wrong at the farm." "you always have that feeling," said her daughter, "as soon as you pass outside the gate." "and i'm usually right about it," said mrs. trescott. "it isn't any use. my system has got into that condition in which i'm in misery if i'm off that farm. josie drags me away from it sometimes; and i do enjoy meeting people! but i like to meet 'em out there the best; and i want to urge you to come often, mrs. barslow, while you're here. and in case you move here, i hope you'll like us and the farm well enough so that we'll see a good deal of you." i was presented to mrs. trescott, and reintroduced to the young lady, with whom alice seemed already on friendly terms. i was surprised at this, for she was not prone to sudden friendships. there was something so attractive in the girl, however, that it went far to explain the phenomenon. for one thing, there was in her manner that same steadiness and calm which i had noticed in her voice in the dusk last night. it gave one the impression that she could not be surprised or startled, that she had seen or thought out all possible combinations of events, and knew of their sequences, or adjusted herself to things by some all-embracing rule, by which she attained that repose of hers. the surprising thing about it, to my mind, was to find this exterior in bill trescott's daughter. i had seen the same thing once or twice in people to whom i thought it had come as the fruit of wide experience in the world. while miss trescott was slim, and rather below the medium in height, she was not at all thin; and had the great mass of ruddy dark hair and fine brown eyes which i remembered so well, and a face which would have been pale had it not been for the tan--the only thing about her which suggested those occupations by which she became her father's "right-hand man." there was intelligence in her face, and a grave smile in her eyes, which rarely extended to her handsome mouth. if mature in face, form, and manner, she was young in years--some years younger than alice. i hoped that she might stay to dinner; but she went away with her mother. in her absence, i devoted some time to praising her. jim failed to join in my pæans further than to give a general assent; but he grew unaccountably mirthful, as if something good had happened to him of which he had not yet told us. "i have invited a few people to my parlors this evening," said he, "and, of course, you will be the guests of honor." my wife demurred. she had nothing to wear, and even if she had, i was without evening dress. the thing seemed out of the question. "oh, we can't let that stand in the way," said he. "so far as your own toilet is concerned, i have nothing to say except that you are known to be making a hurried visit, and i have an abiding faith, based on your manner of stating your trouble, that it can be remedied. i saw your eye take on a far-away look as you planned your costume, even while you were declaring that you couldn't do it. didn't i, now?" "you certainly did not," said alice; and then i noticed the absorbed look myself. "but even if i can manage it, how about albert?" "i'll tell you about albert. i'll bet two to one there won't be a suit of evening clothes worn. the dress suit may come in here with street cars and passenger elevators, but it lacks a good deal of being here yet, except in the most sporadic and infrequent way. and this thing is to be so absolutely informal that it would make the natives stare. you wouldn't wear it if you had it, al." "who will come?" said mrs. barslow. "oh, a couple of dozen ladies and gentlemen, business men and doctors and lawyers and their women-folks. they'll stray in from eight to ten and find something to eat on the sideboard. they'll have the happiness of meeting you, and you can see what the people you are thinking of living among and doing business with are like. it's a necessary part of your visit; and you can't get out of it now, for i've taken the liberty of making all the arrangements. and, as a matter of fact, you don't want to do so, do you, now?" thus appealed to, alice consented. nothing was said to me about it, my willingness being presumed. the guests that evening were almost exclusively men whom i had met during the day, and members of their families. in the absence of any more engaging topic, we discussed lattimore as our possible future home. "i have always felt," said mr. hinckley, who was one of the guests, "that this is the natural site of a great city. these valleys, centering here like the spokes of a wheel, are ready-made railway-routes. in the east there is a city of from fifty thousand to three times that, every hundred miles or so. why shouldn't it be so here?" "suh," said captain tolliver, "the thing is inevitable. somewhah in this region will grow up a metropolis. shall it be hyah, o' at fairchild, o' angus falls? if the people of lattimore sit supinely, suh, and let these country villages steal from huh the queenship which god o'dained fo' huh when he placed huh in this commandin' site, then, suh, they ah too base to be wo'thy of the suhvices of gentlemen." "i've always been taught," said mrs. trescott, "that the credit of placing her in this site belonged to either mr. hinckley or general lattimore." "really," said miss addison to me, "i don't see how they can laugh at such irreverence!" "i think," said miss hinckley in my other ear, "that mr. elkins expressed the whole truth in the matter of the rivalry of these three towns, when he said that when two ride on a horse, one must ride behind. aren't his quotations so--so--illuminating?" i looked about at the company. there were mr. hinckley, mrs. hinckley, their daughter, whom i recognized as the splendid blonde whose pacers had passed us when we were out driving, mrs. trescott and her daughter, and captain and mrs. tolliver. those present were plainly of several different sets and cliques. mrs. hinckley hoped that my wife would join the equal rights club, and labor for the enfranchisement of women. she referred, too, to the eloquence and piety of her pastor, the presbyterian minister, while mrs. tolliver quoted emerson, and invited alice to join, as soon as we removed, the monday club of the unitarian church, devoted to the study of his works. mr. macdonald, red-whiskered, weather-beaten, and gigantic, fidgeted about the punch-bowl a good deal; and replying to some chance remark made by alice, ventured the opinion that the grass was gettin' mighty short on the ranges. miss addison, who came with her cousins the lattimores, looked with disapproval upon the punch, and disclosed her devotion to the w. c. t. u. and the ladies' aid society of the methodist church. the lattimores were will lattimore and his wife. i learned that he was the son of the general, and jim's lawyer; and that they went rarely into society, being very exclusive. this was communicated to me by mrs. ballard, who brought miss ballard with her. she asked in tones of the intensest interest if we played whist; while miss ballard suggested that about the only way we could find to enjoy ourselves in such a little place would be to identify ourselves with the dancing-party and card-club set. i began to suspect that life in lattimore would not be without its complexities. mr. trescott came in for a moment only, for his wife and daughter. miss trescott was not to be found at first, but was discovered in the bay-window with jim and miss hinckley, looking over some engravings. mr. elkins took her down to her carriage, and i thought him a long time gone, for the host. as soon as he returned, however, the conversation again turned to the dominant thought of the gathering, municipal expansion. and i noted that the points made were jim's. he had already imbued the town with his thoughts, and filled the mouths of its citizens with his arguments. after they left, we sat with jim and talked. "well, how do you like 'em?" said he. "why," said alice, "they're very cordial." "heterogeneous, eh?" he queried. "yes," said she, "but very cordial. i am surprised to feel how little i dislike them." as for me, i began to look upon lattimore with more favor. i began to catch jim's enthusiasm and share his confidence. as we smoked together in his rooms that evening, he made me the definite proposal that i go into partnership with him. we talked about the business, and discussed its possibilities. "i don't ask you to believe all my prophecies," said he; "but isn't the situation fairly good, just as it is?" "i think well of it," i answered, "and it's mighty kind of you to ask me to come. i'll go as far as to say that if it depends solely on me, we shall come. as for these prophecies of yours, i am in candor bound to say that i half believe them." "now you _are_ shouting," said he. "never better prophecies anywhere. but consider the matter aside from them. then all we clean up in the prophecy department will be velvet, absolute velvet!" "i can add something to the output of the prophecy department," said alice, when i repeated the phrase; "and that is that there will be some affairs of the heart mingled with the real estate and insurance before long. i can see them in embryo now." "if it's jim and miss trescott you mean, i wish the affair well," said i. "i'm quite charmed with her." "well," said alice, "from the standpoint of most men, miss hinckley isn't to be left out of the reckoning in such matters. what a face and figure she has! miss addison is too prudish and churchified; but i like miss hinckley." "yes," said i; "but miss trescott seems, somehow, to have been known to one, in some tender and touching relation. there's that about her which appeals to one, like some embodiment of the abstract idea of woman. that's why one feels as if he had risked his life for her, and protected her, and seen her suffer wrong, and all that--" "that's only because of that affair you told me of," said my wife. "since i've seen her, i've made up my mind that you misconstrued the matter utterly. there was really nothing to it." in a week i wrote to mr. elkins, accepting his proposal, and promising to close up my affairs, remove to lattimore, and join with him. "i do not feel myself equal to playing the part of either romulus or remus in founding your new rome," i wrote; "but i think as a writer of fire-insurance policies, and keeping the office work up, i may prove myself not entirely a deadhead. my wife asks how the breathing-spaces for the populace are coming on?" and the die was cast! chapter vii. we make our landing. had i known how cordially our neighbors would greet our return, or how many of them would view our departure with apparently sincere regret, i might have been slower in giving jim my promise. i proceeded, however, to carry it out; but it was nearly six months before i could pull myself and my little fortune out of the place into which we had grown. mr. elkins kept me well informed regarding lattimore affairs; and the _herald_ followed me home. jim's letters were long typewritten communications, dictated at speed, and mailed, sometimes one a day, at other times at intervals of weeks. "this is a sure-enough 'winter of our discontent,'" one of these letters runs, "but the scope of our operations will widen as the frost comes out of the ground. we're now confined to the psychical field. subjectively speaking, though, the plot thickens. captain tolliver is in the secondary stages of real-estate dementia, and spreads the contagion daily. there's no quarantine regulation to cover the case, and lattimore seems doomed to the acme of prosperity. this is the age of great cities, saith the captain, and that lattimore is not already a town of , people is one of the strangest, one of the most inexplicable things in the world, in view of the distance we are lag of the country about us, so far as development is concerned. and as our beginning has been tardy, so will our progress be rapid, even as waters long dammed up rush out to devour the plains, etc., etc. "in this we are all agreed. we want a good, steady, natural growth--and no boom. "when a boom recognizes itself as such, it's all over, and the stuff off. the time for letting go of a great wheel is when it starts down hill. but our wheels are all going up--even if they are all in our heads, as yet. "you will remember the railway connection of which i spoke to you? well, that thing has assumed, all of a sudden, a concreteness as welcome as it is unexpected. ballard showed me a telegram yesterday from lower broadway (the heart of darkest n. y.) which tends to prove that people there are ready to finance the deal. it would have amused you to see the horizontality of the coat-tails of the management of the lattimore & great western, as they flaxed round getting up a directors' meeting, so as to have a real, live directorate of this great transcontinental line for the wolves of wall street to do business with! things like this are what you miss by hibernating there, instead of dropping everything and applying here for your pro rata share of the gayety of nations and the concomitant scads. "i was elected president of the road, and as soon as we get a little track, and an engine, i expect to obtain an exchange of passes with all my fellow monopolists in north america. i at once fired back an answer to ballard's telegram, which must have produced an impression upon the gould and vanderbilt interests--if they got wind of it. if the l. & g. w. should pass the paper stage next summer, it will do a whole lot towards carrying this burg beyond the hypnotic period of development. "the angus falls branch is going to build in next summer, i am confident, and that means another division headquarters and, probably, machine-shops. i'm working with some of the trilobites here to form a pool, and offer the company grounds for additional yards and a roundhouse and shops. captain tolliver interviewed general lattimore about it, and got turned down. "'he told me, suh,' reported the captain, in a fine white passion, 'that if any railway system desiahs to come to lattimore, it has his puhmission! that the injuns didn't give him any bonus when he came; and that he had to build his own houses and yahds, by gad, at his own expense, and defend 'em, too, and that if any railroad was thinkin' of comin' hyah, it was doubtless because it was good business fo' 'em to come; and that if they wanted any of his land, were willing to pay him his price, there wouldn't be any difficulty about theiah getting it. and that if there should arise any difference, which he should deeply regret, but would try to live through, the powah of eminent domain with which railways ah clothed will enable the company to get what land is necessary by legal means. "'i could take these observations,' said the captain, 'as nothing except a gratuitous insult to one who approached him, suh, in a spirit of pure benevolence and civic patriotism. it shows the kind of tyrants who commanded the oppressors of the south, suh! only his gray hairs protected him, suh, only his gray hairs!'" "it's a little hard to separate the general from the captain, in this report of the committee on railway extensions," said my wife. "the only thing that's clear about it," said i, "is that jim is having a good deal of fun with the captain." this became clearer as the correspondence went on. "tolliver thinks," said he, in another letter, "that the angus falls extension can be pulled through. however, i recall that only yesterday the captain, in private, denounced the citizens of lattimore as beneath the contempt of gentlemen of breadth of view. 'i shall dispose of my holdin's hyah,' said he, with a stately sweep indicative of their extent, 'at any sacrifice, and depaht, cuhsin' the day i devoted myself to the redemption of such cattle.' "but, at that particular moment, he had just failed in an attempt to sell bill trescott a bunch of choice outlying gold bricks, and was somewhat heated with wine. this to the haughty southron was ample excuse for confiding to me the round, unvarnished truth about us mudsills. "josie and i often talk of you and your wife. i don't know what i'd do out here if it weren't for josie. she refuses to enthuse over our 'natural, healthy growth,' which we look for; but i guess that's because she doesn't care for the things that the rest of us are striving for. but she's the only person here with whom one can really converse. you'd be astonished to see how pretty she is in her furs, and set like a jewel in my new sleigh; but i'm becoming keenly aware of the fact." we were afterwards told that the trilobites had shaken off their fossilhood, and that the angus falls extension, with the engine-house and machine-shops, had been "landed." "this," he wrote, "means enough new families to make a noticeable increase in our population. things will be popping here soon. come on and help shake the popper; hurry up with your moving, or it will all be over, including the shouting." we were not entirely dependent upon jim's letters for lattimore news. mrs. barslow kept up a desultory correspondence with miss trescott, begun upon some pretext and continued upon none at all. in one of these letters josie (for so we soon learned to call her) wrote: "our little town is changing so that it no longer seems familiar. not that the change is visible. beyond an unusual number of strangers or recent comers, there is nothing new to strike the eye. but the talk everywhere is of a new railroad and other improvements. one needs only to shut one's eyes and listen, to imagine that the town is already a real city. mr. elkins seems to be the center of this new civic self-esteem. the air is full of it, and i admit that i am affected by it. i have "'a feeling, as when eager crowds await, before a palace gate, some wondrous pageant.' "you are indebted to captain tolliver for the quotation, and to mr. elkins for the idea. the captain induced me to read the book in which i found the lines. he stigmatizes the preference given to the northern poets--longfellow, for instance--over timrod as 'the crowning infamy of american letters.' he has taken the trouble to lay out a course of study for me, the object of which is to place me right in my appreciation of the literary men of the south. it includes pollard's 'lost cause' and the works of w. g. simms. i have not fully promised to follow it to the end. timrod, however, is a treat." that last quiet winter will always be set apart in my memory, as a time like no other. it was a sitting down on a milestone to rest. back of us lay the busy past--busy with trivial things, it seemed to me, but full of varied activity nevertheless. a boy will desire mightily to finish a cob-house; and when it is done he will smilingly knock it about the barn floor. so i was tearing down and leaving the fabric of relationship which i had once prized so highly. the life upon which i expected to enter promised well. in fact, to a man of medium ability, only, and no training in large affairs, it promised exceedingly well. i knew that jim was strong, and that his old regard for me had taken new life and a firm hold upon him. but when, removed from his immediate influence, i looked the situation in the face, the future loomed so mysteriously bizarre that i shrank from it. all his skimble-skamble talk about psychology and hypnotism, and that other rambling discourse of pirate caves and buccaneering cruises, made me feel sometimes as if i were about to form a partnership with aladdin, or the king of the golden mountain. if he had asked me, merely, to come to lattimore and go into the real estate and insurance business with him, i am sure i should have had none of this mental vertigo. yet what more had he done? as to the boom, i had, as yet, not a particle of objective confidence in it; but, subconsciously, i felt, as did the town "doomed to prosperity," a sense of impending events. in spite of some presentiments and doubts, it was, on the whole, with high hopes that we, on an aguish spring day, reached lattimore with our stuff (as the scriptures term it), and knew that, for weal or woe, it was our home. jim was again at the station to meet us, and seemed delighted at our arrival. i thought i saw some sort of absent-mindedness or absorbedness in his manner, so that he seemed hardly like himself. josie was there with him, and while she and alice were greeting each other, i saw jim scanning the little crowd at the station as if for some other arrival. at last, his eye told me that whatever it was for which he was looking, he had found it; and i followed his glance. it rested on the last person to alight from the train--a tall, sinewy, soldierly-built youngish man, who wore an overcoat of black, falling away in front, so as to reveal a black frock coat tightly buttoned up and a snowy shirt-front with a glittering gem sparkling from the center of it. on his head was a shining silk hat--a thing so rare in that community as to be noticeable, and to stamp the wearer as an outsider. his beard was clipped close, and at the chin ran out into a pronounced vandyke point. his mustaches were black, heavy, and waxed. his whole external appearance betokened wealth, and he exuded mystery. he had not taken two steps from the car before the people on the platform were standing on tiptoe to see him. "bus to the centropolis?" queried the driver of the omnibus. the stranger looked at the conveyance, filled as it was with a load of traveling men and casuals; and, frowning darkly, turned to the negro who accompanied him, saying, "haven't you any carriage here, pearson?" "yes, sah," responded the servant, pointing to a closed vehicle. "right hyah, sah." my wife stood looking, with a little amused smile, at the picturesque group, so out of the ordinary at the time and place. miss trescott was gazing intently at the stranger, and at the moment when he spoke she clutched my wife's arm so tightly as to startle her. i heard alice make some inquiry as to the cause of her agitation, and as i looked at her, i could see in the one glance her face, gone suddenly white as death, and the dark visage of the tall stranger. and it seemed to me as if i had seen the same thing before. then, the negro pointing the way to the closed carriage, the group separated to left and right, the stranger passed through to the carriage, and the picture, and with it my odd mental impression, dissolved. the negro lifted two or three heavy bags to the coachman, gave the transfer man some baggage-checks, and the equipage moved away toward the hotel. all this took place in a moment, during which the usual transactions on the platform were suspended. the conductor failed to give the usual signal for the departure of the train. the engineer leaned from the cab and gazed. jim's eye rested on the stranger and his servant for an instant only; but during that time he seemed to take an observation, come to a conclusion, and dismiss the whole matter. "here, john," said he to the drayman, "take these trunks to the centropolis. we'd like 'em this week, too. none of that old trick of yours of dumping 'em in the crick, you know!" "they'll be up there in five minutes all right, mr. elkins," said john, grinning at jim's allusion to some accident, the knowledge of which appeared to be confined to himself and mr. elkins, and to constitute a bond of sympathy between them. jim turned to us with redoubled heartiness, all his absent-mindedness gone. "i'll drive you to the hotel," said jim. "you'll--" "miss trescott is ill--" said alice. "not at all," said josie; "it has passed entirely! only, when you have taken mr. and mrs. barslow to the hotel, will you please take me home? our little supper-party--i don't feel quite equal to it, if you will excuse me!" chapter viii. a welcome to wall street and us. "welcome!" intoned captain tolliver, with his hat in his hand, bowing low to mrs. barslow. "welcome, madam and suh, in the capacity of lattimoreans! that we shall be the bettah fo' yo' residence among us the' can be no doubt. that you will be prospahed beyond yo' wildest dreams i believe equally cehtain. welcome!" this address was delivered within thirty seconds of the time of our arrival at our old rooms in the centropolis. the captain saluted us in a manner extravagantly polite, mysteriously enthusiastic. the air of mystery was deepened when he called again to see mr. elkins in the evening and was invited in. "did you-all notice that distinguished and opulent-looking gentleman who got off the train this evening?" said he in a stage whisper. "mahk my words, the coming of such men, _his_ coming, is fraught with the deepest significance to us all. all my holdin's ah withdrawn from mahket until fu'the' developments!" "seems to travel in style," said jim; "all sorts of good clothes, colored body-servant, closed carriage ordered by wire--it does look juicy, don't it, now?" "he has the entiah second flo' front suite. the niggah has already sent out fo' a bahbah," said the captain. "lattimore has at last attracted the notice of adequate capital, and will now assume huh true place in the bright galaxy of american cities. mr. barslow, i shall ask puhmission to call upon you in the mo'nin' with reference to a project which will make the fo'tunes of a dozen men, and that within the next ninety days. good evenin', suh; good evenin', madam. i feel that you have come among us at a propitious moment!" "the captain merely hints at the truth which struggles in him for utterance," said jim. "i prove this by informing you that i couldn't get you a house. this shows, too, that the census returns are a calumny upon lattimore. you'll have to stay at the centropolis until something turns up or you can build." "oh, dear!" said alice. "hotel life isn't living at all. i hope it won't be long." "it will have its advantages for al," said mr. elkins. "this financial maelstrom, which will draw everything to lattimore, will have its core right in this hotel--a mighty good place to be. things of all kinds have been floating about in the air for months; the precipitation is beginning now. the psychological moment has arrived--you have brought it with you, mrs. barslow. the moon-flower of lattimore's 'gradual, healthy growth' is going to burst, and that right soon." "has captain tolliver infected you?" inquired alice. "he told us the same thing, with less of tropes and figures." "on any still morning," said jim, "you can hear the wheels go round in the captain's head; but his instinct for real-estate conditions is as accurate as a pocket-gopher's. the captain, in a hysterical sort of way, is right: i consider that a cinch. good-night, friends, and pleasant dreams. i expect to see you at breakfast; but if i shouldn't, al, you'll come aboard at nine, won't you, and help run up the jolly roger? i think i smell pieces-of-eight in the air! and, by the way, miss trescott says for me to assure you that her vertigo, which she had for the first time in her life, is gone, and she never felt better." as mr. elkins passed from our parlor, he let in a bell-boy with the card of mr. clifford giddings, representing the lattimore morning _herald_. "see him down in the lobby," said alice. "i want a story," said he as we met, "on the city and its future. the _herald_ readers will be glad of anything from mr. barslow, whose coming they have so long looked forward to, as intimately connected with the city's development." "my dear sir," i replied, somewhat astonished at the importance which he was pleased to attach to my arrival, "abstractly, my removal to lattimore is my best testimony on that; concretely, i ought to ask information of you." we sat down in a corner of the lobby, our chairs side by side, facing opposite ways. he lighted a cigar, and gave me one. in looks he was young; in behavior he had the self-possession and poise of maturity. he wore a long mackintosh which sparkled with mist. his slouch hat looked new and was carefully dinted. his dress was almost natty in an unconventional way, and his manners accorded with his garb. he acted as if for years we had casually met daily. his tone and attitude evinced respect, was entirely free from presumption, equally devoid of reserve, carried with it no hint of familiarity, but assumed a perfect understanding. the barrier which usually keeps strangers apart he neither broke down, which must have been offensive, nor overleaped, which would have been presumptuous. he covered it with that demeanor of his, and together we sat down upon it. "i thought the _herald_ was an evening paper," said i. "it was, in the days of yore," he replied; "but mr. elkins happened to see me in chicago one day, and advised me to come out and look the old thing over with a view to purchasing the plant. you observe the result. as fellow immigrants, i hope there will be a bond of sympathy between us. you think, of course, that lattimore is a coming city?" "yes." "its geographical situation seems to render its development inevitable, doesn't it? and," he went on, "the railway conditions seem peculiarly promising just now?" "yes," said i, "but the natural resources of the city and the surrounding country appeal most strongly to me." "they are certainly very exceptional, aren't they?" said he, as if the matter had never occurred to him before. then he went on telling me things, more than asking questions, about the jobbing trades, the brick and tile and associated industries, the cement factory, which he spoke of as if actually _in esse_, the projected elevators, the flouring-mills, and finally returned to railway matters. "what is your opinion of the lattimore & great western, mr. barslow?" he asked. "i cannot say that i have any," i answered, "except that its construction would bring great good to lattimore." "it could scarcely fail," said he, "to bring in two or three systems which we now lack, could it?" i very sincerely said that i did not know. after a few more questions concerning our plans for the future, mr. giddings vanished into the night, silently, as an autumn leaf parting from its bough. i thought of him no more until i unfolded the _herald_ in the morning as we sat at breakfast, and saw that my interview was made a feature of the day's news. "mr. albert f. barslow," it read, "of the firm of elkins & barslow, is stopping at the centropolis. he arrived by the : train last evening, and with his family has taken a suite of rooms pending the erection of a residence. they have not definitely decided as to the location of their new home; but it may confidently be stated that they will build something which will be a notable addition to the architectural beauties of lattimore--already proud of her title, the city of homes." "i am very glad to know about this," said alice. "your man giddings has nerve, whatever else he may lack," said i to the smiling elkins across the table. "am i obliged to make good all these representations? i ask, that i may know the rules of the game, merely." "one rule is that you mustn't deny any accusations of future magnificence, for two reasons: they may come true, and they help things on. you are supposed to have left your modesty in cold storage somewhere. read on." "mr. barslow," i read, "has long been a most potent political factor in his native state, but is, first of all, a business man. he brings his charming young wife--" "really, a most discriminating journalist," interjected alice. "--and social circles, as well as the business world, will find them a most desirable accession to lattimore's population." "why this is absolute, slavish devotion to facts," said jim; "where does the word-painting come in?" "here it is," said i. "mr. barslow is some years under middle age, and looks the intense modern business man in every feature. his mind seems to have already become saturated with the conception of the enormous possibilities of lattimore. he impresses those who have met him as one of the few men capable of pulling his share in double harness with james r. elkins." "the fellow piles it on a little strong at times, doesn't he, mrs. barslow?" said jim. "he brings to our city," i read on, "his vigorous mind, his fortune, and a determination never to rest until the city passes the , mark. to a _herald_ representative, last night, he spoke strongly and eloquently of our great natural resources." then followed a skillfully handled expansion of our _tête-à-tête_ talk in the lobby. "mr. barslow," the report went on, "very courteously declined to discuss the l. & g. w. situation. it seems evident, however, from remarks dropped by him, that he regards the construction of this road as inevitable, and as a project which, successfully carried out, cannot fail to make lattimore the point to which all the western and southwestern systems of railways must converge." "you're doing it like a veteran!" cried jim. "admirable! just the proper infusion of mystery; i couldn't have done better myself." "credit it all to giddings," i protested. "and note that the center of the stage is reserved to our mysterious fellow lodger and co-arrival." "yes, i saw that," said jim. "isn't giddings a peach? let mrs. barslow hear it." "she ought to be able to hear these headlines," said i, "without any reading: 'j. bedford cornish arrives! wall street's millions on the ground in the person of one of her great financiers! bull movement in real estate noted last night! does he represent the great railway interests?'" "real estate and financial circles," ran the article under these headlines, "are thrown into something of a fever by the arrival, on the : express last evening, of a gentleman of distinguished appearance, who took five rooms _en suite_ on the second floor of the centropolis, and registered in a bold hand as j. bedford cornish, of new york. mr. cornish consented to see a _herald_ representative last night, but was very reticent as to his plans and the objects of his visit. he simply says that he represents capital seeking investment. he would not admit that he is connected with any of the great railway interests, or that his visit has any relation to the building of the lattimore & great western. the _herald_ is able to say, however, that its new york correspondent informs it that mr. cornish is a member of the firm of lusch, carskaddan & mayer, of wall street. this firm is well known as one of the concerns handling large amounts of european capital, and said to be intimately associated with the rothschilds. financial journals have recently noted the fact that these concerns are becoming embarrassed by the plethora of funds seeking investment, and are turning their attention to the development of railway systems and cities in the united states. their south american and australian investments have not proven satisfactory, especially the former, owing to the character of the people of latin america. it has been pointed out that no real-estate investment can be more than moderately profitable in climates which render the people content with a mere living, and that the restless and unsatisfied vigor of the anglo-saxon alone can make lands and railways permanently remunerative. mr. cornish admitted these facts when they were pointed out to him, and immediately changed the subject. "mr. cornish is a very handsome and opulent-looking gentleman, and seems to live in a style somewhat luxurious for the occident. he has a colored body-servant, who seems to reflect the mystery of his master; but if he has any other reflections, the _herald_ is none the wiser for them. admittance to the suite of rooms was obtained by sending in the reporter's card, which vanished into a sybaritic gloom, borne on a golden salver. mr. cornish seems to be very exclusive, his meals being served in his rooms; and even his barber has instructions to call upon him each morning. one wonders why the barber is called in so frequently, until one marks the smooth-shaven cheeks above the close-clipped, pointed, black, vandyke beard. he is withal very cordial and courtly in his manners. "james r. elkins, when seen last evening, refused to talk, except to say that, in financial circles, it has been known for some days that important developments may be now momently expected, and that some such thing as the visit of mr. cornish was imminent. captain marion tolliver expressed himself freely, and to the effect that this mysterious visit is of the utmost importance to lattimore, and a thing of national if not world-wide importance." "now, that justifies my confidence in giddings," said mr. elkins, "fulfilling at the same time the requirements of journalism and hypnotism. come, al, our bark is on the sea, our boat is on the shore. the spanish galleons are even now hiding in the tall grass, in expectation of our cruise. let us hence to the office!" chapter ix. i go aboard and we unfurl the jolly roger. "we must act, and act at once!" said the captain, his voice thrilling with intensity. "this piece of property will be gone befo' night! all it takes is a paltry three thousand dolla's, and within ninety days--no man can say what its value will be. we can plat it, and within ten days we may have ouah money back. allow me to draw on you fo' three thou--" "but," said i, "i can make no move in such a matter at this time without conference with mr.--" "very well, suh, very well!" said the captain, regarding me with a look that showed how much better things he had expected of me. "opportunity, suh, knocks once--by the way, excuse me, suh!" and he darted from the office, took the trail of mr. macdonald, whom he had seen passing, brought him to bay in front of the post-office, and dragged him away to some doom, the nature of which i could only surmise. this took place on the morning of my first day with elkins & barslow. i was to take up the office work. "that will be easy for you from the first," said jim. "your experience as rob-ee down there in posey county makes you a sort of specialist in that sort of thing; and pretty soon all other things shall be added unto it." the captain's onslaught in the first half-hour admonished me that a good deal was already added to it. on that very day, too, we had our first conference with mr. hinckley. we wanted to handle securities, said mr. elkins, and should have a great many of them, and that was quite in mr. hinckley's line. to carry them ourselves would soon absorb all our capital. we must liberate it by floating the commercial paper which we took in. mr. hinckley's bank was known to be strong, his standing was of the highest, and a trust company in alliance with him could not fail to find a good market for its paper. with an old banker's timidity, hinckley seemed to hesitate; yet the prospects seemed so good that i felt that this consent was sure to be given. jim courted him assiduously, and the intimacy between him and the hinckley family became noticeable. "jim," said i, one day, "you have an unerring eye for the pleasant things of life. i couldn't help thinking of this to-day when i saw you for the twentieth time spinning along the street in miss hinckley's carriage, beside its owner. she's one of the handsomest girls, in her flaxen-haired way, that i know of." "isn't she a study in curves and pink and white?" said jim. "and she understands this trust company business as well as her father." the trust company's stock, he went on to explain, ignoring antonia, seemed to be already oversubscribed. our firm, hinckley, and jim's chicago and new york friends, including harper, all stood ready to take blocks of it, and there was no reason for requiring hinckley to put much actual money in for this. he could pay for it out of his profits soon, and make a fortune without any outlay. good credit was the prime necessity, and that mr. hinckley certainly had. so the celebrated grain belt trust company was begun--a name about which such mighty interests were to cluster, that i know i should have shrunk from the responsibility had i known what a gigantic thing we were creating. as the days wore on, captain tolliver's dementia spread and raged virulently. the dark-visaged cornish, with his air of mystery, his habits so at odds with the society of lattimore, was in the very focus of attention. for a day or so, the effect which mr. giddings's report attributed to his invasion failed to disclose itself to me. then the delirium became manifest, and swept over the town like a were-wolf delusion through a medieval village. its immediate occasion seemed to be a group of real-estate conveyances, announced in the _herald_ one morning, surpassing in importance anything in the history of the town. some of the lands transferred were acreage; some were waste and vacant tracts along brushy creek and the river; one piece was a suburban farm; but the mass of it was along main street and in the business district. the grantees were for the most part strange names in lattimore, some individuals, some corporations. all the sales were at prices hitherto unknown. it was to be remarked, too, that in most cases the property had been purchased not long before, by some of the group of newer comers and at the old modest prices. our firm seemed to have profited heavily in these transactions, as had captain tolliver also. we of the "new crowd" had begun our mock-trading to "establish the market." prices were going up, up; and all one had to do was to buy to-day and sell to-morrow. real values, for actual use, seemed to be forgotten. the most memorable moment in this first, acutest stage in our development was one bright day, within a week or so of our coming. the lawns were taking on their summer emerald, robins were piping in the maples, and down in the cottonwoods and lindens on the river front crows and jays were jargoning their immemorial and cheery lingo. surveyors were running lines and making plats in the suburbs, peeped at by gophers, and greeted by the roundelays of meadow-larks. but on the street-corners, in the offices of lawyers and real-estate agents, and in the lobbies of the hotels, the trading was lively. then for the first time the influx of real buyers from the outside became noticeable. the landlord of the centropolis could scarcely care for his guests. they talked of blocks, quarter-blocks, and the choice acreage they had bought, and of the profits they had made in this and other cities and towns (where this same speculative fever was epidemic), until alice fled to the trescott farm--as she said, to avoid the mixture of real estate with her meals. the telegraph offices were gorged with messages to non-resident property owners, begging for prices on good inside lots. staid, slow-going lot-owners, who had grown old in patiently paying taxes on patches of dog-fennel and sand-burrs, dazedly vacillated between acceptance and rejection of tempting propositions, dreading the missing of the chance so long awaited, fearing misjudgment as to the height of the wave, dreading a future of regret at having sold too low. one of these, an old woman, toothless and bent, hobbled to our office and asked for mr. elkins. he was busy, and so i received her. "it's about that quarter-block with the donegal ruin on it," said jim; "the one i showed you yesterday. offer her five thousand, one-fourth down, balance in one, two, and three years, eight per cent." "i wanted to ask mr. elkins about me home," said she. "i tuk in washin' to buy it, an' me son, poor patsy, god rist 'is soul, he helped wid th' bit of money from the brotherhood, whin he was kilt betune the cars. it was sivin hundred an' fifty dollars, an' now thronson offers me four thousan'. i told him i'd sell, fer it's a fortune for a workin' woman; but befure i signed papers, i wanted to ask mr. elkins; he's such a fair-spoken man, an' knowin' to me min-folks in peoria." "if you want to sell, mrs. collins," said i, "we will take your property at five thousand dollars." she started, and regarded me, first in amazement, then with distrust, shading off into hostility. "thank ye kindly, sir," said she; "i'll be goin' now. i've med up me moind, if that bit of land is wort all that money t' yees, it's wort more to me. thank ye kindly!" and she fled from the presence of the tempter. "the town is full of biddy collinses," commented jim. "well, we can't land everything, and couldn't handle the catch if we did. in fact, for present purposes, isn't it better to have her refuse?" this incident was the hint upon which our "syndicate," as it came to be called, acted from time to time, in making fabulous offers to every biddy collins in town. "offer twenty thousand," jim would say. "the more you bid the less apt is he to accept; he's a biddy collins." and whatever mr. elkins advised was done. there were eight or ten of us in the "syndicate," dubbed by jim "the crew," among whom were tolliver, macdonald, and will lattimore. but the inner circle, now drawing closer and closer together, were elkins, our ruling spirit; hinckley, our great force in the banking world; and myself. soon, i was given to understand, mr. cornish was to take his place as one of us. he and jim had long known each other, and mr. elkins had the utmost confidence in mr. cornish's usefulness in what he called "the thought-transference department." elkins & barslow kept their offices open night and day, almost, and the number of typewriters and bookkeepers grew astoundingly. i became almost a stranger to my wife. i got hurried glimpses of miss trescott and her mother at the hotel, and knew that she and alice were becoming fast friends; but so far the social prominence which the _herald_ had predicted for us had failed to arrive. this, to be sure, was our own fault. miss addison soon gave us up as not available for the church and sunday-school functions to which she devoted herself. her family connections would have made her _the_ social leader had it not been for the severity of her views and her assumption of the character of the devotee--in spite of which she protestingly went almost everywhere. antonia hinckley, however, was frankly fond of a good time, and with her dashing and almost hoydenish character easily took the leadership from miss addison; and miss hinckley sought diligently for means by which we could be properly launched. as i left the office one day, a voice from the curb called my name. it was miss hinckley in a smart trap, to which was harnessed a beautiful horse, standard bred, one could see at a glance. i obeyed the summons, and stepped beside the equipage. "i want to scold you," said she. "society is being defrauded of the good things which your coming promised. have you taken a vow of seclusion, or what?" "i've been spinning about in the maelstrom of business," i replied. "but do not be uneasy; some time we shall take up the matter of inflicting ourselves, and pursue it as vigorously as we now follow our vocation." "wouldn't you like to get into the trap, and take a spin of another sort?" said she. "i'll deposit you safely with mrs. barslow in time for tea." i got in, glad of the drive, and for ten minutes her horse was sent at such a pace that conversation was difficult. then he was slowed down to a walk, his head toward home. we chatted of casual things--the scenery, the horse, the splendid color of the sunset. i was becoming interested in her. "i had almost forgotten that there were such things in lattimore," said i, referring to the topics of our talk. "i have become so saturated with lands and lots." "i don't know much about business," said she, "and i think i'll improve my opportunity by learning something. and, first, aren't men sometimes losers by the dishonesty of those who act for them--agents, they are called, aren't they?" such, i admitted, was unfortunately the case. "i should be sorry for--any one i liked--to be injured in such a way.... now you must understand how the things you men are interested in permeate the society of us women. why, mamma has almost forgotten the enslavement of our sex, in these new things which have changed our old town so much; so you mustn't wonder if i have heard something of a purely business nature. i heard that captain tolliver was about to sell mr. elkins the land where the old foundry is, over there, for twenty thousand dollars. now, papa says it isn't worth it; and i know--sadie allen and i were in school together, and she comes over from fairchild several times a year to see me, and i go there, you know; and that land is in her father's estate--i know that the executor has told captain tolliver to sell it for ever so much less than that. and it seemed so funny, as the captain was doing the business for both sides--isn't it odd, now?" "it does seem so," said i, "and it is very kind of you. i'll talk with mr. elkins about it. please be careful, miss hinckley, or you'll drop the wheel in that washout!" she reined up her horse and began speeding him again. i could see that this conversation had embarrassed her somehow. her color was high, and her grip of the reins not so steady as at starting. this attempt to do jim a favor was something she considered as of a good deal of consequence. i began to note more and more what a really splendid woman she was--tall, fair, her tailor-made gown rounding to the full, firm curves of her figure, her fearless horsemanship hinting at the possession of large and positive traits of character. "we women," said she, "might as well abandon all the things commonly known as feminine. what good do they do us?" "they gratify your sense of the beautiful," suggested i. "you know, mr. barslow," said she, "that it's not our own sense of the beautiful, mainly, that we seek to gratify; and if the eyes for which they are intended are looking into ledgers and blind to everything except dollar-signs, what's the use?" "go down to the seashore," said i, "where the people congregate who have nothing to do." "not i," said she; "i'll go into real estate, and become as blind as the rest!" jim paid no attention to my chaffing when i spoke of his conquest, as i called antonia. in fact, he seemed annoyed, and for a long time said nothing. "you can see how the allen estate proposition stands," said he, at last. "to let that sell for less than twenty thousand might cost us ten times that amount in lowering the prevailing standard of values. the old rule that we should buy in the cheapest market and sell in the dearest is suspended. base is the slave who pays--less than the necessary and proper increase." chapter x. we dedicate lynhurst park. the hindu adept sometimes suspends before the eyes of his subject a bright ball of carnelian or crystal, in the steady contemplation of which the sensitive swims off into the realms of subjectivity--that mysterious bourn from whence no traveler brings anything back. j. bedford cornish was mr. elkins's glittering ball; his psychic subject was the world in general and lattimore in particular. scientific principles, confirmed by experience, led us to the conclusion that the attitude of fixed contemplation carried with it some nervous strain, ought to be of limited duration, and hence that mr. cornish should remove from our midst the glittering mystery of his presence, lest familiarity should breed contempt. so in about ten days he went away, giving to the _herald_ a parting interview, in which he expressed unbounded delight with lattimore, and hinted that he might return for a longer stay. editorially, the _herald_ expressed the hope that this characteristically veiled allusion to a longer sojourn might mean that mr. cornish had some idea of becoming a citizen of lattimore. this would denote, the editorial continued, that men like mr. cornish, accustomed to the mighty world-pulse of new york, could find objects of pursuit equally worthy in lattimore. "which is mixed metaphor," mr. giddings admitted in confidence; "but," he continued, "if metaphors, like drinks, happen to be more potent mixed, the _herald_ proposes to mix 'em." all these things consumed time, and still our life was one devoted to business exclusively. at last mr. elkins himself, urged, i feel sure, by antonia hinckley, gave evidence of weariness. "al," said he one day, "don't you think it's about time to go ashore for a carouse?" "unless something in the way of a let-up comes soon," said i, "the position of lieutenant, or first mate, or whatever my job is piratically termed, will become vacant. the pace is pretty rapid. last night i dreamed that the new hotel elkins was founded on my chest; and i have had troubles enough of the same kind before to show me that my nervous system is slowly ravelling out." "i have arrangements made, in my mind, for a sort of al fresco function, to come off about the time cornish gets back with our london visitor," he replied, "which ought to knit up the ravelled sleeve better than new. i'm going to dedicate lynhurst park to the nymphs and deities of sport--which wrinkled care derides." "i hadn't heard of lynhurst park," i was forced to say. "i'm curious to know, first, who named it, and, second, where it is." "didn't i show you those blueprints?" he asked. "an oversight i assure you. as for the scheme, you suggested it yourself that night we first drove out to trescott's. don't you remember saying something about 'breathing space for the populace'? well, i had the surveys made at once; contracted for the land, all but what bill owns of it, which we'll have to get later; and had a landscapist out from chicago to direct us as to what we ought to admire in improving the place. as for the name, i'm indebted to kind nature, which planted the valley in basswood, and to josie, who contributed the philological knowledge and the taste. that's the street-car line," said he, unrolling an elaborate plat and pointing. "we may throw it over to the west to develop section seven, if we close for it. otherwise, that line is the very thing." our street-railway franchise had been granted by the lattimore city council--they would have granted the public square, had we asked for it in the potent name of "progress"--and cornish was even now making arrangements for placing our bonds. the impossible of less than a year ago was now included in the next season's program, as an inconsiderable feature of a great project for a street-railway system, and the "development" of hundreds of acres of land. the place so to be named lynhurst park was most agreeably reached by a walk up brushy creek from lattimore. such a stroll took one into the gorge, where the rocks shelved toward each other, until their crowning fringes of cedar almost interlocked, like the eyelashes of drowsiness. down there in the twilight one felt a sense of being defrauded, in contemplation of the fact that the stream was troutless: it was such an ideal place for trout. the quiet and mellow gloom made the gorge a favorite trysting-place, and perhaps the cool-blooded stream-folk had fled from the presence of the more fervid dwellers on the banks. in the crevices of the rocks were the nests of the village pigeons. the combined effects of all these causes was to make this a spot devoted to billing and cooing. farther up the stream the rock walls grew lower and parted wider, islanding a rich bottom of lush grass-plot, alternating with groves of walnut, linden, and elm. this was the lynhurst park of the blueprints and plats. trescott's farm lay on the right bank, and others on either side; but the houses were none of them near the stream, and the entire walk was wild and woodsy-looking. none but nature-lovers came that way. others drove out by the road past trescott's, seeing more of corn and barn, but less of rock, moss, and fern. mr. cornish was to return on friday with the honorable de forest barr-smith, who lived in london and "represented english capital." to us westerners the very hyphen of his name spoke eloquently of £ s. d. through him we hoped to get the money to build that street railway. cornish had written that mr. barr-smith wanted to look the thing over personally; and that, given the element of safety, his people would much prefer an investment of a million to one of ten thousand. cornish further hinted that the london gentleman acted like a man who wanted a side interest in the construction company; as to which he would sound him further by the way. "he'll expect something in the way of birds and bottles," observed elkins; "but they won't mix with the general society of this town, where the worm of the still is popularly supposed to be the original edenic tempter. and he'll want to inspect lynhurst park. i want him to see our beauty and our chivalry,--meaning the ladies and captain tolliver,--and the rest of our best people. i guess we'll have to make it a temperate sort of orgy, making up in the spectacular what it lacks in spirituousness." mr. cornish came, gradually moulting his mystery; but still far above the lattimore standard in dress and style of living. in truth, he always had a good deal of the swell in his make-up, and can almost be acquitted of deceit in the impressions conveyed at his coming. the honorable de forest barr-smith fraternized with cornish, as he could with no one else. no one looking at mr. cornish could harbor a doubt as to his morning tub; and his evening dress was always correct. with jim, mr. barr-smith went into the discussion of business propositions freely and confidentially. i feel sure that had he greatly desired a candid statement of the very truth as to local views, or the exact judgment of one on the spot, he would have come to me. but between him and cornish there was the stronger sympathy of a common understanding of the occult intricacies of clothes, and a view-point as to the surface of things, embracing manifold points of agreement. cornish's unerring conformity of vogue in the manner and as to the occasion of wearing the tuxedo or the claw-hammer coat was clearly restful to mr. barr-smith, in this new and strange country, where, if danger was to be avoided, things had to be approached with distended nostril and many preliminary snuffings of the wind. there came with these two a younger brother of mr. barr-smith, cecil--a big young civil engineer, just out of college, and as like his brother in accent and dress as could be expected of one of his years; but national characteristics are matters of growth, and college boys all over the world are a good deal alike. cecil barr-smith, with his red mustache, his dark eyes, and his six feet of british brawn, was nearer in touch with our younger people that first day than his honorable brother ever became. to antonia, especially, he took kindly, and respectfully devoted himself. "at this distance," said mr. barr-smith, as he saw his brother sitting on the grass at miss hinckley's feet, "i'd think them brother and sister. she resembles sister gritty remarkably; the same complexion and the same style, you know. quite so!" the lynhurst function was the real introduction of these three gentlemen to lattimore society. i knew nothing of the arrangements, except what i could deduce from jim's volume of business with caterers and other handicraftsmen; and i looked forward to the fête with much curiosity. the weather, that afternoon, made an outing quite the natural thing; for it was hot. the ladies in their most summery gowns fluttered like white dryads from shade to shade, uttering bird-like pipings of surprise at the preparations made for their entertainment. the ravine had been transformed. at an available point in its bed jim had thrown a dam across the stream, and a beautiful little lake rippled in the breeze, bearing on its bosom a bright-colored boat, which in our ignorance of things venetian we mistakenly dubbed a gondola. at the upper end of this water the canvas of a large pavilion gleamed whitely through the greenery, displaying from its top the british and american flags, their color reflected in a particolored streak on the wimpling face of the lake. the groves, in the tops of which the woodpeckers, warblers, and vireos disturbedly carried on the imperatively necessary work of rearing their broods, were gay with festoons of chinese lanterns in readiness for the evening. hammocks were slung from tree to tree, cushions and seats were arranged in cosy nooks; and when my wife and i stepped from our carriage, all these appliances for the utilization of shade and leisure were in full use. the "gondola" was making, trips from the cascade (as the dam was already called) to the pavilion, carrying loads of young people from whom came to our ears those peals of merriment which have everywhere but one meaning, and that a part of the world-old mystery of the way of a man with a maid. jim was on the ground early, to receive the guests and keep the management in hand. josie trescott and her mother walked down through the trescott pasture, and joined alice and me under one of the splendid lindens, where, as we lounged in the shade, the sound of the little waterfall filled the spaces in our talk. long before any one else had seen them coming through the trees, mr. elkins had spied them, and went forward to meet them with something more than the hospitable solicitude with which he had met the others. in fact, the principal guests of the day had alighted from their carriage before jim, ensconced in a hammock with josie, was made aware of their arrival. i am not quick to see such things; but to my eyes, even, the affair had assumed interest as a sort of public flirtation. i had not thought that josie would so easily fall into deportment so distinctly encouraging. she was altogether in a surprising mood,--her eyes shining as with some stimulant, her cheeks a little flushed, her lips scarlet, her whole appearance suggesting suppressed excitement. and when jim rose to meet his guests, she dismissed him with one of those charmingly inviting glances and gestures with which such an adorable woman spins the thread by which the banished one is drawn back,--and then she disappeared until the dinner was served. the green crown of the western hill was throwing its shadow across the valley, when mr. hinckley came with mr. cornish and mr. barr-smith in a barouche; followed by antonia, who brought mr. cecil in her trap--and a concomitant thrill to the company. mr. cornish, in his dress, had struck a happy medium between the habiliments of business and those of sylvan recreation. mr. barr-smith on the other hand, was garbed cap-a-pie for an outing, presenting an appearance with which the racket, the bat, or even the alpenstock might have been conjoined in perfect harmony. as for the men of lattimore, any one of them would as soon have been seen in the war-dress of a sioux chief as in this entirely correct costume of our british visitor. we walked about in the every-day vestments of the shops, banks, and offices, illustrating the difference between a state of society in which apparel is regarded as an incident in life, and one rising to the height of realizing its true significance as a religion. mr. barr-smith bowed not the knee to the baal of western clothes-monotone, but daily sent out his sartorial orisons, keeping his windows open toward the jerusalem of his london tailor, in a manner which would have delighted a teufelsdröckh. he was a short man, with protruding cheeks, and a nose ending in an amorphous flare of purple and scarlet. his mustache, red like that of his brother, and constituting the only point of physical resemblance between them, grew down over a receding chin, being forced thereto by the bulbous overhang of the nose. he had rufous side-whiskers, clipped moderately close, and carroty hair mixed with gray. his erect shoulders and straight back were a little out of keeping with the rotundity of his figure in other respects; but the combination, hinting, as it did, of affairs both gastronomic and martial, taken with a manner at once dignified, formal, and suave, constituted the most intensely respectable appearance i ever saw. to the imagination of lattimore he represented everything of which, cornish fell short, piling lombard upon wall street. the arrival of these gentlemen was the signal for gathering in the pavilion where dinner was served. the tables were arranged in a great l, at the apex of which sat jim and the distinguished guests. on one side of him sat mr. barr-smith, who listened absorbedly to the conversation of mrs. hinckley, filling every pause with a husky "quite so!" on the other sat josie trescott, who was smiling upon a very tall and spare old man who wore a beautiful white mustache and imperial. i had never met him, but i knew him for general lattimore. his fondness for josie was well known; and to him jim attributed that young lady's lack of enthusiasm over our schemes for city-building. his presence at this gathering was somewhat of a surprise to me. antonia and cecil barr-smith, the tollivers, mr. hinckley and alice, myself, mr. giddings, and miss addison sat across the table from the host. mrs. trescott, after expressing wonder at the changes wrought in the ravine, and confiding to me her disapproval of the useless expense, had returned to the farm, impelled by that habitual feeling that something was wrong there. mr. giddings was exceedingly attentive to miss addison. "i know why you're trying to look severe," said he to her, as the consommé was served; "and it's the only thing i can imagine you making a failure of, unless it would be looking anything but pretty. but you are trying it, and i know why. you think they ought to have had some one say grace before pulling this thing off." "i'm not trying to look--anyhow," she answered. "but you are right in thinking that i believe such duties should not be transgressed, for fear that the world may call us provincial or old-fashioned." and she shot a glance at cornish and barr-smith as the visible representatives of the "world." "don't listen to that age-old clash between fervor and unregeneracy," said josie across the narrow table, her remarks made possible by the music of the orchestra, "but tell us about mr. barr-smith and--the other gentlemen." "i wanted to ask you about the britons," said i; "are they good specimens of the men you saw in england?" "an art-student, with a consciousness of guilt in slowly eating up the year's shipment of steers, isn't likely to know much more of the barr-smiths' london than she can see from the street. but i think them fine examples of not very rare types. i should like to try drawing the elder brother!" "before he goes away, i predict--" i began, when my villainous pun was arrested in mid-utterance by the voice of captain tolliver, suddenly becoming the culminating peak in the table-talk. "the anglo-saxon, suh," he was saying, "is found in his greatest purity of blood in ouah southe'n states. it is thah, suh, that those qualities of virility and capacity fo' rulership which make the race what is ah found in theiah highest development--on this side of the watah, suh, on this side!" "quite so! i dare say, quite so!" responded mr. barr-smith. "i hope to know the people of the south better. in fact, i may say, really, you know, an occasion like this gives one the desire to become acquainted with the whole american people." general lattimore, whose nostrils flared as he leaned forward listening, like an opponent in a debate, to the remarks of captain tolliver, subsided as he heard the englishman's diplomatic reply. "what's the use?" said he to josie. "he may be nearer right than i can understand." "we hope," said mr. elkins, "that this desire may be focalized locally, and grow to anything short of a disease. i assure you, lattimore will congratulate herself." mr. barr-smith's fingers sought his glass, as if the impulse were on him to propose a toast; but the liquid facilities being absent, he relapsed into a conversation with mrs. hinckley. "i'd say those things, too, if i were in his place," came the words of giddings, overshooting their mark, the ear of miss addison; "but it's all rot. he's disgusted with the whole barbarous outfit of us." "i am becoming curious," was the _sotto voce_ reply, "to know upon what model you found your conduct, mr. giddings." "i know what you mean," said mr. giddings. "but i have adopted iago." "why, mr. giddings! how shocking! iago--" "now, don't be horrified," said giddings, with an air of candor, "but look at it from a practical standpoint. if othello hadn't been such a fool, iago would have made his point all right. he had a right to be sore at othello for promoting cassio over his head, and his scheme was a good one, if othello hadn't gone crazy. iago is dominated by reason and the principle of the survival of the fittest. he is an agreeable fellow--" miss addison, with a charming mixture of tragedy and archness, suppressed this blasphemy by a gesture suggestive of placing her hand over the editor's mouth. "ah, mrs. hinckley, you shouldn't do us such an injustice!" it was mr. cornish, who took the center of the stage now. "you seem to fail to realize the fact that, in any given gathering, the influence of woman is dominant; and as the entire life of the nation is the sum total of such gatherings, woman is already in control. now how can you fail to admit this?" i missed the rather extended reply of mrs. hinckley, in noting the evident impression made upon the company by this first utterance of the mysterious cornish. it was not what he said: that was not important. it was the dark, bearded face, the jetty eyes, and above all, i think, the voice, with its clear, carrying quality, combining penetrativeness with a repression of force which gave one the feeling of being addressed in confidence. every man, and especially every woman, in the company, looked fixedly upon him, until he ceased to speak--all except josie. she darted at him one look, a mere momentary scrutiny, and as he discoursed of woman and her power, she seemed to lose herself in contemplation of her plate. the blush upon her cheek became more rosy, and a little smile, with something in it which was not of pleasure, played about the corners of her mouth. i was about to offer her the traditional bargain-counter price for her thoughts, when my attention was commanded by jim's voice, answering some remark of antonia's. "this is the merest curtain-riser, just a sort of kick-off," he was saying. "in a year or two this valley will be _the_ pleasure-ground of all the countryside, a hundred miles around. this tent will be replaced by a restaurant and auditorium. the conventions and public gatherings of the state will be held here--there is no other place for 'em; and our railway will bring the folks out from town. there will be baseball grounds, and facilities for all sorts of sports; and outings and games will center here. i promise you the next regatta of the state rowing association, and a street-car line landing passengers where we now sit." "hear, hear!" said mr. barr-smith, and the company clapped hands in applause. mr. hinckley was introduced by jim as "one who had seen lynhurst park when it was indian hunting-ground"; and made a speech in which he welcomed mr. cornish as a new citizen who was already prominent. dining in this valley, he said, reminded him of the time when he and two other guests now present had, on almost the identical spot, dined on venison dressed and cooked where it fell. then lattimore was a trading-post on the frontier, surrounded by the tepees of indians, and uncertain as to its lease of life. general lattimore, who shot the deer, or mr. macdonald, who helped eat it, could either of them tell more about it. mr. barr-smith and our other british guest might judge of the rapidity of development in this country, where a man may see in his lifetime progress which in the older states and countries could be discerned by the student of history only. mr. cornish very briefly thanked mr. hinckley for his words of welcome; but begged to be excused from making any extended remarks. deeds were rather more in his line than words. "title-deeds," said giddings under his breath, "as the real-estate transfers show!" general lattimore verified mr. hinckley's statement concerning the meal of venison; and, politely expressing pleasure at being present at a function which seemed to be regarded as of so much importance to the welfare of the town in which he had always taken the pride of a godfather, resumed his seat without adding anything to the oratory of the boom. "in fact," said captain tolliver to me, "i wahned mr. elkins against having him hyah. in any mattah of progress he's a wet blanket, and has proved himself such by these remahks." mr. barr-smith, in response to the allusions to him, assured us that the presence of people such as he had had the pleasure of meeting in lattimore was sufficient in itself to account for the forward movement in the community, which the visitor could not fail to observe. "in a state of society where people are not averse to changing their abodes," he said, "and where the social atom, if i may so express myself, is in a state of mobility, the presence of such magnets as our toastmaster, and the other gentlemen to whose courteous remarks i am responding, must draw 'em to themselves, you may be jolly well assured of that! and if the gentlemen should fail, the thing which should resist the attractive power of the american ladies must be more fixed in its habits than even the conservative english gentleman, who prides himself upon his stability, er--ah--his taking a position and sticking by it, in spite of the--of anything, you know." as his only contribution to the speechmaking, mr. cecil barr-smith greeted this sentiment with a hearty "hear, hear!" he fell into step with antonia as we left the pavilion. then he went back as if to look for something; and i saw antonia summon mr. elkins to her side so that she might congratulate him on the success of this "carouse." everything seemed going well. there was, however, in that gathering, as in the day, material for a storm, and i, of all those in attendance, ought to have seen it, had my memory been as unerring as i thought it. chapter xi. the empress and sir john meet again. the company emerged from the tent into the enchanted outdoors of the star-dotted valley. the moon rode high, and flooded the glades with silvery effulgency. the heat of the day had bred a summer storm-cloud, which, all quivery with lightning, seemed sweeping around from the northwest to the north, giving us the delicious experience of enjoying calm, in view of storm. the music of the orchestra soon told that the pavilion had been cleared for dancing. i heard giddings urging upon miss addison that it would be much better for them to walk in the moonlight than to encourage by their presence such a worldly amusement, and one in which he had never been able to do anything better than fail, anyhow. sighing her pain at the frivolity of the world, she took his arm and strolled away. i noticed that she clung closely to him, frightened, i suppose, at the mysterious rustlings in the trees, or something. they made up the dances in such a way as to leave me out. i rather wanted to dance with antonia; but mr. cecil was just leaving her in disappointment, in the possession of mr. elkins, when i went for her. i decided that a cigar and solitude were rather to be chosen than anything else which presented itself, and accordingly i took possession of one of the hammocks, in which i lay and smoked, and watched the towering thunder-head, as it stood like a mighty and marvelous mountain in the northern sky, its rounded and convoluted summits serenely white in the moonlight, its mysterious caves palpitant with incessant lightning. the soothing of the cigar; the new-made lake reflecting the gleam of hundreds of lanterns; the illuminated pavilion, its whirling company of dancers seen under the uprolled walls; the night, with its strange contrast of a calm southern sky on the one hand pouring down its flood of moonlight, and in the north the great mother-of-pearl dome with its core of vibrant fire; the dance-music throbbing through the lindens; and all this growing out of the unwonted and curious life of the past few months, bore to me again that feeling of being yoked with some thaumaturge of wondrous power for the working of enchantments. again i seemed in a partnership with aladdin; and fairy pavilions, sylvan paradises, bevies of dancing girls, and princes bearing gifts of gold and jewels, had all obeyed our conjuration. i could have walked down to the naphtha pleasure-boat and bidden the engineer put me down at khorassan, or some dreamful port of far cathay, with no sense of incongruity. two figures came from the tent and walked toward me. as i looked at them, myself in darkness, they in the light, i had again that feeling of having seen them in some similar way before. that same old sensation, thought i, that the analytic novelist made trite ages ago. then i saw that it was mr. cornish and miss trescott. i could hear them talking; but lay still, because i was loth to have my reveries disturbed. and besides, to speak would seem an unwarranted assumption of confidential relations on their part. they stopped near me. "your memory is not so good as mine," said he. "i knew you at once. knew you! why--" "i'm not very good at keeping names and faces in mind," she replied, "unless they belong to people i have known very well." "indeed!" his voice dropped to the 'cello-like undertone now; "isn't that a little unkind? i fancied that _we_ knew each other very well! my conceit is not to be pandered to, i perceive." "ye-e-s--does it seem that way?" said she, ignoring the last remark. "well, you know it was only for a few days, and you kept calling yourself by some ridiculous alias, and scarcely used your surname at all, and i believe they called you johnny--and you can't think what a disguise such a beard is! but i remember you now perfectly. it quite brings back those short months, when i was so young--and was finding things out! i can see the vine-covered porch, and madame lamoreaux's boarding-house on the south side--" "and the old art gallery?" "why, there was one, wasn't there?" said she, "somewhere along the lake front, wasn't it?... such a pleasant meeting, and so odd!" i sat up in the hammock, and stared at them as they went on their promenade. the old art gallery, the vine-covered porch, the young man with the smooth-shaven dark face and the thrilling, vibrant voice, and the young, young girl with the ruddy hair, and the little, round form! she seemed taller now, and there was more of maturity in the figure; but it was the same lissome waist and petite gracefulness which had so fully explained to me the avid eyes of her lover on that day when i had fled from the report of the committee on permanent organization. it was the empress josephine, i had known that--and her sir john! then i thought of her flying from him into the street, and the little bowed head on the street-car; and the old pity for her, the old bitterness toward him, returned upon me. i wondered how he could speak to her in this nonchalant way; what they were saying to each other; whether they would ever refer to that night at auriccio's; what alice would think of him if she ever found it out; whether he was a villain, or only erred passionately; what was actually said in that palm alcove that night so long ago; whether this man, with the eyes and voice so fascinating to women, would renew his suit in this new life of ours; what jim would think about it; and, more than all, how josie herself would regard him. "she ought never to have spoken to him again!" i hear some one say. ah, madam, very true. but do you remember any authentic case of a woman who failed to forgive the man whose error or offense had for its excuse the irresistible attraction of her own charms? they were coming back now, still talking. "you dropped out of sight, like a partridge into a thicket," said he. "some of them said you had gone back to--to--" "to the farm," she prompted. "well, yes," he conceded; "and others said you had left chicago for new york; and some, even paris." "i fail to see the warrant," said josie, as they approached the limit of earshot, "for any of the people at madame lamoreux's giving themselves the trouble to investigate." "so far as that is concerned," said he, "i should think that i--" and his voice quite lost intelligibility. my cigar had gone out, and the cessation of the music ought to have apprised me of the breaking up of the dance, and still i lay looking at the sky and filled with my thoughts. "here he is," said alice, "asleep in the hammock! for shame, albert! this would not have occurred, once!" "i am free to admit that," said i, "but why am i now disturbed?" "we're going on a cruise in the gondola," said antonia, "and mr. elkins says you are lieutenant, and we can't sail without you. come, it's perfectly beautiful out there." "we're going to the head of navigation and back," said jim, "and then our revels will be ended. --hang it!" to me, "they left the skull and crossbones off all the flags!" mr. barr-smith at once engaged the engineer in conversation, and seemed worming from him all his knowledge of the construction of the boat. the rest of us lounged on cushions and seats. we threaded our way up the new pond, winding between clumps of trees, now in broad moonlight, now in deepest shade. the shower had swept over to the northeast, just one dark flounce of its skirt reaching to the zenith. a cool breeze suddenly sprang up from the west, stirred by the suction of the receding storm, and a roar came from the trees on the hilltops. "better run for port," said jim; "i'd hate to have mr. barr-smith suffer shipwreck where the charts don't show any water!" as we ran down the open way, the remark seemed less and less of a joke. the gale poured over the hills, and struck the boat like the buffet of a great hand. she heeled over alarmingly, bumped upon a submerged stump, righted, heeled again, this time shipping a little sea, and then the sharp end of a hidden oak-limb thrust up through the bottom, and ripped its way out again, leaving us afloat in the deepest part of the lake, with a spouting fountain in the middle of the vessel, and the chopping waves breaking over the gunwale. all at once, i noticed cecil barr-smith, with his coat off, standing near antonia, who sat as cool as if she had been out on some quiet road driving her pacers. the boat sank lower in the water, and i had no doubt that she was sinking. antonia rose, and stretched her hands towards jim. i do not see how he could avoid seeing this; but he did, and, as if abandoning her to her fate, he leaped to josie's side. cornish had seized _her_ by the arm, and seemed about to devote himself to her safety, when jim, without a word, lifted her in his arms, and leaped lightly upon the forward deck, the highest and driest place on the sinking craft. then, as everything pointed to a speedy baptism in the lake for all of us, we saw that the very speed of the wind had saved us, and felt the gondola bump broadside upon the dam. jim sprang to the abutment with josie, and cecil barr-smith half carried and half led antonia to the shore. alice and i sat calmly on the windward rail; and barr-smith, laughing with delight, helped us across, one at a time, to the masonry. "i'm glad it turned out no worse," said jim. "i hope you will all excuse me if i leave you now. i must see miss trescott to a safe and dry place. here's the carriage, josie!" "are you quite uninjured?" said cecil to antonia, as mr. elkins and josie drove away. "oh, quite so!" said antonia, unwittingly adopting barr-smith's phrase. "but for a moment i was awfully frightened!" "it looked a little damp, at one time, for farce-comedy," said cornish. "i wonder how deep it was out there!" "miss trescott was quite drenched," said mr. barr-smith, as we got into the carriages. "too bad, by jove!" "you may write home," said antonia, "an account of being shipwrecked in the top of a tree!" "good, good!" said cecil, and we all joined in the laugh, until we were suddenly sobered by the fact that antonia had bowed her head on alice's lap, and was sobbing as if her heart was broken. chapter xii. in which the burdens of wealth begin to fall upon us. if the town be considered as a quiescent body pursuing its unluminous way in space, mr. elkins may stand for the impinging planet which shocked it into vibrant life. i suggested this nebular-hypothesis simile to mr. giddings, one day, as the germ of an editorial. "it's rather seductive," said he, "but it won't do. carry your interplanetary collision business to its logical end, and what do you come to? gaseousness. and that's just what the angus falls _times_, the fairchild star, and the other loathsome sheets printed in prairie-dog towns around here accuse us of, now. no; much obliged; but as a field for comparisons the tried old solar system is good enough for the _herald_." i couldn't help thinking, however, that the thing had some illustrative merit. there was jim's first impact, felt locally, and jarring things loose. then came the atomic vivification, the heat and motion, which appeared in the developments which we have seen taking form. after the visit of the barr-smiths, and the immigration of cornish, the new star lattimore began to blaze in the commercial firmament, the focus of innumerable monetary telescopes, pointed from the observatories of counting-rooms, banks, and offices, far and wide. there was a shifting of the investment and speculative equilibrium, and things began coming to us spontaneously. the angus falls railway extension was won only by strenuous endeavor. captain tolliver's interviews with general lattimore, in which he was so ruthlessly "turned down," he always regarded as a sort of creative agony, marking the origin of the roundhouse and machine-shops, and our connection with the great halliday railway system of which it made us a part. the street-car project went more easily; and, during the autumn, the geological and manufacturing experts sent out to report on the cement-works enterprise, pronounced favorably, and gangs of men, during the winter, were to be seen at work on the foundations of the great buildings by the scarped chalk-hill. the tension of my mind just after the lynhurst park affair was such as to attune it to no impulses but the financial vibrations which pulsated through our atmosphere. true, i sometimes felt the wonder return upon me at the finding of the lovers of the art-gallery together once more, in josie and cornish; and at other times antonia's agitation after our escape from shipwreck recurred to me in contrast with her smiling self-possession while the boat was drifting and filling; but mostly i thought of nothing, dreamed of nothing, but trust companies, additions, bonds and mortgages. mr. barr-smith returned to london soon, giving a parting luncheon in his rooms, where wine flowed freely, and toasts of many colors were pushed into the atmosphere. there was one to the president and the queen, proposed by the host and drunk in bumpers, and others to mr. barr-smith, his brother, and the members of the "syndicate." the enthusiasm grew steadily in intensity as the affair progressed. finally mr. cecil solemnly proposed "the american woman." in offering this toast, he said, he was taking long odds, as it was a sport for which he hadn't had the least training; but he couldn't forego the pleasure of paying a tribute where tribute was due. the ladies of america needed no encomiums from him, and yet he was sure that he should give no offense by saying that they were of a type unknown in history. they were up to anything, you know, in the way of intellectuality, and he was sure that in a certain queenly, blonde way they were-- "hear, hear!" said his brother, and burst into a laugh in which we all joined, while cecil went on talking, in an uproar which drowned his words, though one could see that he was trying to explain something, and growing very hot in the process. pearson announced that their train would soon arrive, and we all went down to see them off. barr-smith assured us at parting that the tram-road transaction might be considered settled. he believed, too, that his clients might come into the cement project. we were all the more hopeful of this, for the knowledge that he carried somewhere in his luggage a bond for a deed to a considerable interest in the cement lands. things were coming on beautifully; and it seemed as if elkins and cornish, working together, were invincible. we still lived at the hotel, but our architect, "little ed. smith, who lived over on the hayes place" when we were boys, and who was once at garden city with jim, was busy with plans for a mansion which we were to build in the new lynhurst park addition the next spring. mr. elkins was preparing to erect a splendid house in the same neighborhood. "can i afford it?" said i, in discussing estimates. "afford it!" he replied, turning on me in astonishment. "my dear boy, don't you see we are up against a situation that calls on us to bluff to the limit, or lay down? in such a case, luxury becomes a duty, and lavishness the truest economy. not to spend is to go broke. lay your poor richard on the shelf, and put a weight on him. stimulate the outgo, and the income'll take care of itself. a thousand spent is five figures to the good. no, while we've as many boom-irons in the fire as we're heating now, to be modest is to be lost." "perhaps," said i, "you may be right, and no doubt are. we'll talk it over again some time. and your remark about irons in the fire brings up another matter which bothers me. it's something unusual when we don't open up a set of books for some new corporation, during the working day. aren't we getting too many?" "do you remember mule jones, who lived down near hickory grove?" said he, after a long pause. "well, you know, in our old neighborhood, the mule was regarded with a mixture of contempt, suspicion, and fear, the folks not understanding him very well, and being especially uninformed as to his merits. therefore, mule jones, who dealt in mules, bought, sold, and broke 'em, was a man of mark, and identified in name with his trade, as most people used to be before our time. i was down there one sunday, and asked him how he managed to break the brutes. 'it's easy,' said he, 'when you know how. i never hook up less'n six of 'em at a time. then they sort o' neutralize one another. some on 'em'll be r'arin' an' pitchin', an' some tryin' to run; but they'll be enough of 'em down an' a-draggin' all the time, to keep the enthusiastic ones kind o' suppressed, and give me the castin' vote. it's the only right way to git the bulge on mules.' whenever you get to worrying about our various companies, think of the mule jones system and be calm." "i'm a little shy of being ruled by one case, even though so exactly in point," said i. "well, it's all right," he continued, "and about these houses. why, we'd have to build them, even if we preferred to live in tents. put the cost in the advertising account of lynhurst park addition, if it worries you. let me ask you, now, as a reasonable man, how can we expect the rest of the world to come out here and spring themselves for humble dwellings with stationary washtubs, conservatories, and _porte cochères_, if we ourselves haven't any more confidence in the deal than to put up jim crow wickiups costing not more than ten or fifteen thousand dollars apiece? that addition has got to be the nob hill of lattimore. nothing in the 'poor but honest' line will do for lynhurst; and we've got to set the pace. when you see my modest bachelor quarters going up, you'll cease to think of yours in the light of an extravagance. by next fall you'll be infested with money, anyhow, and that house will be the least of your troubles." alice and i made up our minds that jim was right, and went on with our plans on a scale which sometimes brought back the aladdin idea to my mind, accustomed as i was to rural simplicity. but alice, notwithstanding that she was the daughter of a country physician of not very lucrative practice, rose to the occasion, and spent money with a spontaneous largeness of execution which revealed a genius hitherto unsuspected by either of us. jim was thoroughly delighted with it. "the republic," he argued, "cannot be in any real danger when the modest middle classes produce characters of such strength in meeting great emergencies!" jim was at his best this summer. he revelled in the work of filling the morning paper with scare-heads detailing our operations. he enjoyed being it, he said. cornish, after the first few days, during which, in spite of inside information as to his history, i felt that he would make good the predictions of the _herald_, ceased to be, in my mind, anything more than i was--a trusted aide of jim, the general. both men went rather frequently out to the trescott farm--jim with the bluff freedom of a brother, cornish with his rather ceremonious deference. i distrusted the dark sir john where women were concerned, noting how they seemed charmed by him; but i could not see that he had made any headway in regaining josie's regard, though i had a lurking feeling that he meant to do so. i saw at times in his eyes the old look which i remembered so well. josie, more than ever this season, was earning her father's commendation as his "right-hand man." she insisted on driving the four horses which drew the binder in the harvest. in the haying she operated the horse-rake, and helped man the hay-fork in filling the barns. she grew as tanned as if she had spent the time at the seashore or on the links; and with every month she added to her charm. the scarlet of her lips, the ruddy luxuriance of her hair, the arrowy straightness of her carriage, the pulsing health which beamed from her eye, and dyed cheek and neck, made their appeal to the women, even. "how sweet she is!" said alice, as she came to greet us one day when we drove to the farm, and waited for her to come to us. "how sweet she is, albert!" her father came up, and explained to us that he didn't ask any of his women folks to do any work except what there was in the house. he was able to hire the outdoors work done, but josie he couldn't keep out of the fields. "why, pa," said she, "don't you see you would spoil my chances of marrying a fairy prince? they absolutely never come into the house; and my straw hat is the only really becoming thing i've got to wear!" "don't give a dum if yeh never marry," said bill. "hain't seen the man yit that was good enough fer yeh, from my standpoint." bill's reputation was pretty well known to me by this time. he had been for years a successful breeder and shipper of live-stock, in which vocation he had become well-to-do. on his farm he was forceful and efficient, treading his fields like an admiral his quarter-deck. about town he was given to talking horses and cattle with the groups which frequented the stables and blacksmith-shops, and sometimes grew a little noisy and boisterous with them. whenever her father went with a shipment of cattle to chicago or other market, josie went too, taking a regular passenger train in time to be waiting when bill's stock train arrived; and after the beeves were disposed of, bill became her escort to opera and art-gallery; on such a visit i had seen her at the stock yards. she was fond of her father; but this alone did not explain her constant attendance upon him. i soon came to understand that his prompt return from the city, in good condition, was apt to be dependent upon her influence. it was one of those cases of weakness, associated with strength, the real mystery of which does not often occur to us because they are so common. he came into our office one day with a tremor in his hand and a hunted look in his eye. he took a chair at my invitation, but rose at once, went to the door, and looked up and down the street, as if for pursuers. i saw captain tolliver across the street, and bill's air of excitement was explained. i was relieved, for at first i had thought him intoxicated. "what's the matter, bill?" said i, after he had looked at me earnestly, almost pantingly, for a few moments. "you look nervous." "they're after me," he answered in repressed tones, "to sell; and i'll be blasted if i know what to do! wha' d'ye' 'spose they're offerin' me for my land?" "the fact is, bill," said i, "that i know all about it. i'm interested in the deal, somewhat." "then you know they've bid right around a thousand dollars an acre?" "yes," said i, "or at least that they intended to offer that." "an' you're one o' the company," he queried, "that's doin' it?" "yes," i admitted. "wal," said he, "i'm kinder sorry you're in it, becuz i've about concluded to sell; an' it seems to me that any concern that buys at that figger is a-goin' to bust, sure. w'y, i bought that land fer two dollars and a haff an acre. but, see here, now; i 'xpect you know your business, an' see some way of gittin' out in the deal, 'r you wouldn't pay that. but if i sell, i've got to have help with my folks." "ah," said i, scenting the usual obstacle in such cases, "mrs. trescott a little unwilling to sign the deeds?" "no," answered he, "strange as it may seem, ma's kinder stuck on comin' to town to live. how she'll feel after she's tried it fer a month 'r so, with no chickens 'r turkeys 'r milk to look after, i'm dubious; but jest now she seems to be all right." "well, what's the matter then?" said i. "wal, it's josie, to tell the truth," said he. "she's sort o' hangin' back. an' it's for her sake that i want to make the deal! i've told her an' told her that there's no dum sense in raisin' corn on thousand-dollar land; but it's no use, so fur; an' here's the only chanst i'll ever hev, mebbe, a-slippin' by. she ortn't to live her life out on a farm, educated as she is. w'y, did you ever hear how she's been educated?" i told him that in a general way i knew, but not in detail. "w'l, i want yeh to know all about it, so's yeh c'n see this movin' business as it is," said he. "you know i was allus a rough cuss. herded cattle over there by yer father's south place, an' never went to school. ma, josie's ma, y' know, kep' the greenwood school, an' crossed the prairie there where i was a-herdin', an' i used to look at her mighty longin' as she went by, when the cattle happened to be clost along the track, which they right often done. you know how them things go. an' fin'ly one morning a blue racer chased her, as the little whelps will, an' got his dummed little teeth fastened in her dress, an' she a-hyperin' around haff crazy, and a-screamin' every jump, so's't i hed to just grab her, an' hold her till i could get the blasted snake off,--harmless, y' know, but got hooked teeth, an' not a lick o' sense,--an' he kinder quirled around my arm, an' i nacherally tore him to ribbins a-gittin' of him off. an' then she sort o' dropped off, an' when she come to, i was a-rubbin' her hands an' temples. wa'n't that a funny interduction?" "it's very interesting," said i; "go on." "w'l you remember ol' doc maxfield?" said bill, well started on a reminiscence. "wal, he come along, an' said it was the worst case of collapse, whatever that means, that he ever see--her lips an' hands an' chin all a-tremblin', an' flighty as a loon. wal, after that i used to take her around some, an' her folks objected becuz i was ignorant, an' she learnt me some things, an' bein' strong an' a good dancer an' purty good-lookin' she kind o' forgot about my failin's, an' we was married. her folks said she'd throwed herself away; but i could buy an' sell the hull set of 'em now!" this seemed conclusive as to the merits of the case, and i told him as much. "w'l josie was born an' growed up," continued bill, "an' it's her i started to tell about, wa'n't it? she was allus a cute little thing, an' early she got this art business in her head. she'd read about fellers that had got to be great by paintin' an' carvin', an' it made her wild to do the same thing. wa'n't there a feller that pulled hair outer the cat to paint injuns with? yes, i thought they was; i allus thought they could paint theirselves good enough; but that story an' some others she read an' read when she was a little gal, an' she was allus a-paintin' an' makin' things with clay. she took a prize at the county fair when she was fourteen, with a picter of washin'ton crossin' the delaware--three dollars, by gum! an' then we hed to give her lessons; an' they wasn't any one thet knew anything around here, she said, an' she went to chicago. an' i went in to visit her when she hedn't ben there more'n six weeks, on an excursion one convention time, an' i found her all tore up, a good deal as her ma was with the blue racer,--i don't think she's ever ben the same light-hearted little gal sence,--an' from there i took her to new york; an' there she fell in with a nice woman that was awful good to her, an' they went to europe, an' it cost a heap. an' you may've noticed thet josie knows a pile more'n the other women here?" i admitted that this had occurred to me. "w'l, she was allus apt to take her head with her," said bill, "but this travelin' has fixed her like a hoss thet's ben druv in chicago: nothin' feazes her, street-cars, brass bands, circuses, overhead trains--it's all the same to her, she's seen 'em all. sometimes i git the notion that she'd enjoy things more if she hadn't seen so dum many of 'em an' so much better ones, y' know! wal, after she'd ben over there a long time, she wrote she was a-comin' home; an' we was tickled to death. only i was surprised by her writin' that she wanted us to take all them old picters of hern, and put 'em out of sight! an' if you'll b'lieve it, she won't talk picters nor make any sence she got back--only, jest after she got back, she said she didn't see any use o' her goin' on dobbin' good canvas up with good paint, an' makin' nothin' but poor picters; an' she cried some.... i thought it was sing'lar that this art business that she thought was the only thing thet'd ever make her happy was the only thing i ever see her cry about." "it's the way," said i, "with a great many of our cherished hopes." "w'l, anyhow, you can see thet it's the wrong thing to put as much time an' money into fixin' a child up f'r a different kind o' life as we hev, an' then keep her on a farm out here. an' thet's why i want you to help this sale through, an' bring influence to bear on her. i give up; i'm all in." to me bill seemed entirely in the right. the new era made it absurd for the trescotts to use their land longer as a farm. lattimore was changing daily. the streets were gashed with trenches for gas- and water-mains; piled-up materials for curbing, paving, office buildings, new hotels, and all sorts of erections made locomotion a peril; but we were happy. the water company was organized in our office, the gas and electric-light company in cornish's; but every spout led into the same bin. mr. hinckley had induced some country dealers who owned a line of local grain-houses to remove to lattimore and put up a huge terminal elevator for the handling of their trade. captain tolliver had been for a long time working upon a project for developing a great water-power, by tunneling across a bend in the river, and utilizing the fall. the building of the elevator attracted the attention of a company of rochester millers, and almost before we knew it their forces had been added to ours, and the tunnel was begun, with the certainty that a two-thousand-barrel mill would be ready to grind the wheat from the elevator as soon as the flume began carrying water. this tunnel cut through an isthmus between the brushy creek valley and the river, and brought to bear on our turbines the head from a ten-mile loop of shoals and riffles. it opened into the gorge near the southern edge of lynhurst park, and crossed the trescott farm. so it was that bill awoke one day to the fact that his farm was coveted by divers people, who saw in his fields and feed-yards desirable sites for railway tracks, mills, factories, and the cottages of a manufacturing suburb. this it was that had put the captain, like a blood-hound, on his trial, to the end that he was run to earth in my office, and made his appeal for help in managing josie. "there she comes now," said he. "labor with her, won't yeh?" "bring her with us to the hotel," said i, "to take dinner. if my wife and elkins can't fix the thing, no one can." so we five dined together, and after dinner discussed the trescott crisis. bill put the case, with all a veteran dealer's logic, in its financial aspects. "but we don't want to be rich," said josie. "what've we ben actin' all these years like we have for, then?" inquired bill. "seem's if i'd been lab'rin' under a mistake f'r some time past. when your ma an' me was a-roughin' it out there in the old log-house, an' she a-lookin' out at the feb'uary stars through the holes in the roof, a-holdin' you, a little baby in bed, we reckoned we was a-doin' of it to sort o' better ourselves in a property way. wouldn't you 'a'thought so, jim?" "well," said mr. elkins, with an air of judicial perpension, "if you had asked me about it, i should have said that, if you wanted to stay poor, you could have held your own better by staying in pleasant valley township as a renter. this was no place to come to if you wanted to conserve your poverty." "but, pa, we're not adapted to town life and towns," urged josie. "i'm not, and you are not, and as for mamma, she'll never be contented. oh, mr. elkins, why did you come out here, making us all fortunes which we haven't earned, and upsetting everything?" "now, don't blame me, josie," jim protested. "you ought to consider the fallacy of the _post hoc, propter hoc_ argument. but to return to the point under discussion. if you could stay there, a rural amaryllis, sporting in arcadian shades, having seen you doing it once or twice, i couldn't argue against it, it's so charmingly becoming." "if that were all the argument--" began josie. "it's the most important one--to my mind," said jim, resuming the discussion, "and you fail on that point; for you can't live in that way long. if you don't sell, the development company will condemn grounds for railway tracks and switch-yards; you'll find your fields and meadows all shot to pieces; and your house will be surrounded by warehouses, elevators, and factories. your larks and bobolinks will be scared off by engines and smokestacks, and your flowers spoiled with soot. don't parley with fate, but cash in and put your winnings in some safe investment." "once i thought i couldn't stay on the old farm a day longer; but i feel otherwise now! what business has this 'progress' of yours to interfere?" "it pushes you out of the nest," answered jim. "it gives you the chance of your lives. you can come out into lynhurst park addition, and build your house near the barslow and elkins dwellings. we've got about everything there--city water, gas, electric light, sewers, steam heat from the traction plant, beautiful view, lots on an established grade--" "don't, don't!" said josie. "it sounds like the advertisements in the _herald_." "well, i was just leading up to a statement of what we lack," continued jim. "it's the artistic atmosphere. we need a dash of the culture of paris and dresden and the place where they have the dinky little windmills which look so nice on cream-pitchers, but wouldn't do for one of our farmers a minute. come out and supply our lack. you owe it to the great cause of the amelioration of local savagery; and in view of my declaration of discipleship, and the effective way in which i have always upheld the standard of our barbarism, i claim that you owe it to me." "i've abandoned the brush." "take it up again." "i have made a vow." "break it!" she refused to yield, but was clearly yielding. alice and i showed trescott, on a plat, the place for his new home. he was quite taken with the idea, and said that ma would certainly be tickled with it. josie sat apart with mr. elkins, in earnest converse, for a long time. she looked frequently at her father, jim constantly at her. mr. cornish dropped in for a little while, and joined us in presenting the case for removal. while he was there the girl seemed constrained, and not quite so fully at her ease; and i could detect, i thought, the old tendency to scrutinize his face furtively. when he went away, she turned to jim more intimately than before, and almost promised that she would become his neighbor in lynhurst. after the trescotts' carriage had come and taken them away, jim told us that it was for her father, and the temptations of idleness in the town, that miss trescott feared. "this fairy-godmother business," said he, "ain't what the prospectus might lead one to expect. it has its drawbacks. bill is going to cash in all right, and i think it's for the best; but, al, we've got to take care of the old man, and see that he doesn't go up in the air." chapter xiii. a sitting or two in the game with the world and destiny. our game at lattimore was one of those absorbing ones in which the sunlight of next morning sifts through the blinds before the players are aware that midnight is past. day by day, deal by deal, it went on, card followed card in fateful fall upon the table, and we who sat in, and played the world and destiny with so pitifully small a pile of chips at the outset, saw the world and destiny losing to us, until our hands could scarcely hold, our eyes hardly estimate, the high-piled stacks of counters which were ours. we saw the yellowing groves and brown fields of our first autumn; we heard the long-drawn, wavering, mounting, falling, persistent howl of the thresher among the settings of hive-shaped stacks; we saw the loads of red and yellow corn at the corn-cribs,--as men at the board of the green cloth hear the striking of the hours. and we heeded them as little. the cries of southing wild-fowl heralded the snow; winter came for an hour or so, and melted into spring; and some of us looked up from our hands for a moment, to note the fact that it was the anniversary of that aguish day when three of us had first taken our seats at the table: and before we knew it, the dust and heat and summer clouds, like that which lightened over the fete in the park, admonished us that we were far into our second year. and still shuffle, cut, deal, trick, and hand followed each other, and with draw and bluff and showdown we played the world and destiny, and playing won, and saw our stacks of chips grow higher and higher, as our great and absorbing game went on. moreover, while we won and won, nobody seemed to lose. josie spoke that night of fortunes which people had not earned; but surely they were created somehow; and as the universe, when the divine fiat had formed the world, was richer, rather than poorer, so, we felt, must these values so magically growing into our fortunes be good, rather than evil, and honestly ours, so far as we might be able to secure them to ourselves. i said as much to jim one day, at which he smiled, and remarked that if we got to monkeying with the ethics of the trade, piracy would soon be a ruined business. "better, far better keep the lookout sweeping the horizon for sails," said he, "and when one appears, serve out the rum and gunpowder to the crew, and stand by to lower away the boats for a boarding-party!" i am afraid i have given the impression that our life at this time was solely given over to cupidity and sordidness; and that idea i may not be able to remove. yet i must try to do so. we were in the game to win; but our winnings, present and prospective, were not in wealth only. to surmount obstacles; to drive difficulties before us like scattering sparrows; to see a town marching before us into cityhood; to feel ourselves the forces working through human masses so mightily that, for hundreds of miles about us, social and industrial factors were compelled to readjust themselves with reference to us; to be masters; to create--all these things went into our beings in thrilling and dizzying pulsations of a pleasure which was not ignoble. for instance, let us take the building of the lattimore & great western railway. before mr. elkins went to lattimore this line had been surveyed by the coöperation of mr. hinckley, mr. ballard, the president of the opposition bank, and some others. it was felt that there was little real competition among the railways centering there, and the l. & g.w. was designed as a hint to them of a lattimore-built connection with the halliday system, then a free-lance in the transportation field, and ready to make rates in an independent and competitive way. the angus falls extension brought this system in, but too late to do the good expected; for mr. halliday, in his dealings with us, convinced us of the truth of the rumors that he had brought the other roads to terms, and was a free-lance no longer. month by month the need of real competition in our carrying trade grew upon us. rates accorded to other cities on our commercial fighting line we could not get, in spite of the most persistent efforts. in the offices of presidents and general managers, in st. louis, chicago, st. paul and minneapolis, kansas city, omaha and new york we were received by suave princes of the highways, who each blandly assured us that his road looked with especial favor upon our town, and that our representations should receive the most solicitous attention. but the word of promise was ever broken to the hope. after one of these embassies the syndicate held a meeting in cornish's elegant offices on the ground-floor of the new "hotel elkins" building. we sent giddings away to prepare an optimistic news-story for to-morrow's _herald_, and an editorial leader based upon it, both of which had been formulated among us before going into executive session on the state of the nation. hinckley, who had an admirable power of seeing the crux of a situation, was making a rather grave prognosis for us. "if we can't get rates which will let us into a broader territory, we may as well prepare for reverses," said he. "foreign cement comes almost to our doors, in competition with ours. wheat and live-stock go from within twenty miles to points five hundred miles away. who is furnishing the brick and stone for the new fairchild court-house and the big normal-school buildings at angus falls? not our quarries and kilns, but others five times as far away. if you want to figure out the reason of this, you will find it in nothing else in the world but the freight rates." "it's a confounded outrage," said cornish. "can't we get help from the legislature?" "i understand that some action is expected next winter," said i; "senator conley had in here the other day a bill he has drawn; and it seems to me we should send a strong lobby down at the proper time in support of it." "ye-e-s," drawled jim, "but i believe in still stronger measures; and rather than bother with the legislature, owned as it is by the roads, i'd favor writing cuss-words on the water-tanks, or going up the track a piece and makin' faces at one of their confounded whistling-posts or cattle-guards--or something real drastic like that!" cornish, galled, as was i, by this irony, flushed crimson, and rose. "the situation," said he, "instead of being a serious one, as i have believed, seems merely funny. this conference may as well end. having taken on things here under the impression that this was to be a city; it seems that we are to stay a village. it occurs to me that it's time to stand from under! good-evening!" "wait!" said hinckley. "don't go, cornish; it isn't as bad as that!" as he spoke he laid his hand on cornish's arm, and i saw that he was pale. he felt more keenly than did i the danger of division and strife among us. "yes, mr. hinckley," said jim, as cornish sat down again, "it _is_ as bad as that! this thing amounts to a crisis. for one, i don't propose to adopt the 'stand-from-under' tactics. they make an unnecessary disaster as certain as death; but if we all stand under and lift, we can win more than we've ever thought. in the legislature they hold the cards and can beat us. it's no use fooling with that unless we seek martyrs' deaths in the bankruptcy courts. but there is a way to meet these men, and that is by bringing to our aid their greatest rival." "do you mean--" said hinckley. "i mean avery pendleton and the pendleton system," replied elkins. "i mean that we've got to meet them on their own ground. pendleton won't declare war on the halliday combination by building in here, but there is no reason why we can't build to him, and that's what i propose to do. we'll take the l. & g. w., swing it over to the east from the elk fork up, make a junction with pendleton's pacific division, and, in one week after we get trains running, we'll have the freight combine here shot so full of holes that it won't hold corn-stalks! that's what we'll do: we'll do a little rate-making ourselves; and we'll make this danger the best thing that ever happened to us. do you see?" cornish saw, sooner than any one else. as he spoke, jim had unrolled a map, and pointed out the places as he referred to them, like a general, as he was, outlining the plan of a battle. he began this speech in that quiet, convincing way of his, only a little elevated above the sarcasm of a moment before. as he went on, his voice deepened, his eye gleamed, and in spite of his colloquialisms, which we could not notice, his words began to thrill us like potent oratory. we felt all that ecstasy of buoyant and auspicious rebellion which animated hotspur the night he could have plucked bright honor from the pale-faced moon. at jim's final question, cornish, forgetting his pique, sprang to the map, swept his finger along the line elkins had described, followed the main ribs of pendleton's great gridiron, on which the fat of half a dozen states lay frying, on to terminals on lakes and rivers; and as he turned his black eyes upon us, we knew from the fire in them that he saw. "by heavens!" he cried, "you've hit it, elkins! and it can be done! from to-night, no more paper railroads for us; it must be grading-gangs and ties, and steel rails!" so, also, there was good fighting when cornish wired from new york for elkins and me to come to his aid in placing our lattimore & great western bonds. of course, we never expected to build this railway with our own funds. for two reasons, at least: it is bad form to do eccentric things, and we lacked a million or two of having the money. the line with buildings and rolling stock would cost, say, twelve thousand dollars per mile. before it could be built we must find some one who would agree to take its bonds for at least that sum. as no one would pay quite par for bonds of a new and independent road, we must add, say, three thousand dollars per mile for discount. moreover, while the building of the line was undertaken from motives of self-preservation, there seemed to be no good reason why we should not organize a construction company to do the actual work of building, and that at a profit. that this profit might be assured, something like three thousand dollars per mile more must go in. of course, whoever placed the bonds would be asked to guarantee the interest for two or three years; hence, with two thousand more for that and good measure, we made up our proposed issue of twenty thousand dollars per mile of first-mortgage bonds, to dispose of which "the former member of the firm of lusch, carskaddan & mayer" was revisiting the glimpses of wall street, and testing the strength of that mighty influence which the _herald_ had attributed to him. "you've just _got_ to win," said giddings, who was admitted to the secret of cornish's embassy, "not only because lattimore and all the citizens thereof will be squashed in the event of your slipping up; but, what is of much more importance, the _herald_ will be laid in a lie about your wall street pull. remember that when foes surround thee!" when we joined him, cornish admitted that he was fairly well "surrounded." he had failed to secure the aid of barr-smith's friends, who said that, with the street-car system and the cement works, they had quite eggs enough in the lattimore basket for their present purposes. in fact, he had felt out to blind ends nearly all the promising burrows supposedly leading to the strong boxes of the investing public, of which he had told us. he accounted for this lack of success on the very natural theory that the halliday combination had found out about his mission, and was fighting him through its influence with the banks and trust companies. so he had done at last what jim had advised him to do at first--secured an appointment with the mighty mr. pendleton; and, somewhat humbled by unsuccess, had telegraphed for us to come on and help in presenting the thing to that magnate. whom, being fenced off by all sorts of guards, messengers, clerks, and secretaries, we saw after a pilgrimage through a maze of offices. he had not the usual features which make up an imposing appearance; but command flowed from him, and authority covered him as with a mantle. we knew that he possessed and exerted the power to send prosperity in this channel, or inject adversity into that, as a gardener directs water through his trenches, and this knowledge impressed us. he was rather thin; but not so much so as his sharp, high nose, his deep-set eyes, and his bony chin at first sight seemed to indicate. whenever he spoke, his nostrils dilated, and his gray eyes said more than his lips uttered. he was courteous, with a sort of condensed courtesy--the shorthand of ceremoniousness. he turned full upon us from his desk as we entered, rose and met us as his clerk introduced us. "mr. barslow, i'm happy to meet you; and you also, mr. cornish. mr. wilson 'phoned about your enterprise just now. mr. elkins," as he took jim's hand, "i have heard of you also. be seated, gentlemen. i have given you a time appropriation of thirty minutes. i hope you will excuse me for mentioning that at the end of that period my time will be no longer my own. kindly explain what it is you desire of me, and why you think that i can have any interest in your project." and, with a judgment trained in the valuing of men, he turned to jim as our leader. "if our enterprise doesn't commend itself to your judgment in twenty minutes," said jim, with a little smile, and in much the same tone that he would have used in discussing a cigar, "there'll be no need of wasting the other ten; for it's perfectly plain. i'll expedite matters by skipping what we desire, for the most part, and telling you why we think the pendleton system ought to desire the same thing. our plan, in a word, is to build a hundred and fifty miles of line, and from it deliver two full train-loads of through east-bound freight per day to your road, and take from you a like amount of west-bound tonnage, not one pound of which can be routed over your lines at present." mr. pendleton smiled. "a very interesting proposition, mr. elkins," said he; "my business is railroading, and i am always glad to perfect myself in the knowledge of it. make it plain just how this can be done, and i shall consider my half-hour well expended." then began the fateful conversation out of which grew the building of the lattimore & great western railway. jim walked to the map which covered one wall of the room, and dropped statement after statement into the mind of pendleton like round, compact bullets of fact. it was the best piece of expository art imaginable. every foot of the road was described as to gradients, curves, cuts, fills, trestles, bridges, and local traffic. then he began with lattimore; and we who breathed in nothing but knowledge of that city and its resources were given new light as to its shipments and possibilities of growth. he showed how the products of our factories, the grain from our elevators, the live-stock from our yards, and the meats from our packing-houses could be sent streaming over the new road and the lines of pendleton. then he turned to our commercial club, and showed that the merchants, both wholesale and retail, of lattimore were welded together in its membership, in such wise that their merchandise might be routed from the great cities over the proposed track. he piled argument on argument. he hammered down objection after objection before they could be suggested. he met mr. pendleton in the domain of railroad construction and management, and showed himself familiar with the relative values of pendleton's own lines. "your pacific division," said he, "must have disappointed some of the expectations with which it was built. its earnings cannot, in view of the distance they fall below those of your other lines, be quite satisfactory to you. give us the traffic agreement we ask; and your next report after we have finished our line will show the pacific division doing more than its share in the great showing of revenue per mile which the pendleton system always makes. i see that my twenty minutes is about up. i hope i have made good our promises as to showing cause for coming to you with our project." mr. pendleton, after a moment's thought, said: "have you made an engagement for lunch?" we had not. he turned to the telephone, and called for a number. "is this mr. wade's office?... yes, if you please.... is this mr. wade?... this is pendleton talking to you.... yes, pendleton.... there are some gentlemen in my office, mr. wade, whom i want you to meet, and i should be glad if you could join us at lunch at the club.... well, can't you call that off, now?... say, at one-thirty.... yes.... very kind of you.... thanks! good-by." having made his arrangements with mr. wade, he hung up the telephone, and pushed an electric button. a young man from an outer office responded. "tell mr. moore," said pendleton to him, "that he will have to see the gentlemen who will call at twelve--on that lake terminal matter--he will understand. and see that i am not disturbed until after lunch.... and, say, frank! see if mr. adams can come in here--at once, please." mr. adams, who turned out to be some sort of a freight expert, came in, and the rest of the interview was a bombardment of questions, in which we all took turns as targets. when we went to lunch we felt that mr. pendleton had possessed himself of all we knew about our enterprise, and filed the information away in some vast pigeon-hole case with his own great stock of knowledge. we met mr. wade over an elaborate lunch. he said, as he shook hands with cornish, that he believed they had met somewhere, to which cornish bowed a frigid assent. mr. wade was the head of the allen g. wade trust company, and seemed in a semi-comatose condition, save when cakes, wine, or securities were under discussion. he addressed me as "mr. corning," and called cornish "atkins," and once in a while opened his mouth to address jim by name, but halted, with a distressful look, at the realization of the fact that he could not remember names enough to go around. he made an appointment with me for the party for the next morning. "if you will come to my office before you call on mr. wade," said mr. pendleton, "i will have a memorandum prepared of what we will do with you in the way of a traffic agreement: it may be of some use in determining the desirability of your bonds. i'm very glad to have met you, gentlemen. when lattimore gets into my world--by which i mean our system and connections--i hope to visit the little city which has so strong a business community as to be able to send out such a committee as yourselves; good-afternoon!" "well," said i, as we went toward our hotel, "this looks like progress, doesn't it?" "i sha'n't feel dead sure," said jim, "until the money is in bank, subject to the check of the construction company. but doesn't it look juicy, right now! why, boys, with that traffic agreement we can get the money anywhere--on the prairie, out at sea--anywhere under the shining sun! they can't beat us. what do you say, cornish? will, your friend wade jar loose, or shall we have to seek further?" "he'll snap at your bonds now," said cornish, rather glumly, i thought, considering the circumstances; "but don't call him a friend of mine! why, damn him, not a week ago he turned me out of his office, saying that he didn't want to look into any more western railway schemes! and now he says he believes we've met before!" this seemed to strike mr. elkins as the best practical joke he had ever heard of; and cornish suggested that for a man to stop in homeric laughter on broadway might be pleasant for him, but was embarrassing to his companions. by this time cornish himself was better-natured. jim took charge of our movements, and commanded us to a dinner with him, in the nature of a celebration, with a theater-party afterward. "let us," said he, "hear the chimes at midnight, or even after, if we get buncoed doing it. who cares if we wind up in the police court! we've done the deed; we've made our bluff good with halliday and his gang of highwaymen; and i feel like taking the limit off, if it lifts the roof! al, hold your hand over my mouth or i shall yell!" "come into my parlor, and yell for me," said cornish, "and you may do my turn in police court, too. come in, and behave yourself!" i began writing a telegram to my wife, apprising her of our good luck. the women in our circle knew our hopes, ambitions, and troubles, as the court ladies know the politics of the realm, and there were anxious hearts in lattimore. "i'm going down to the telegraph-office with this," said i; "can i take yours, too?" when i handed the messages in, the man who received them insisted on my reading them over with him to make sure of correct transmission. there was one to mr. hinckley, one to mr. ballard, and two to miss josephine trescott. one ran thus, "success seems assured. rejoice with me. j. b. c." the other was as follows: "in game between railway giants and country jakes here to-day, visiting team wins. score, to . barslow, catcher, disabled. crick in neck looking at high buildings. have mrs. b. prepare porous plaster for saturday next. sell halliday stock short, and buy l. & g. w. and in name all things good and holy don't tell giddings! j. r. e." chapter xiv. in which we learn something of railroads, and attend some remarkable christenings. and so, in due time, it came to pass that, our aladdin having rubbed the magic ring with which his genius had endowed him, there came, out of some thunderous and smoky realm, peopled with swart kobolds, and lit by the white fire of gushing cupolas and dazzling billets, a train of carriages, drawn by a tamed volcanic demon, on a wonderful way of steel, armed strongly to deliver us from the castle perilous in which we were besieged by the giants. the way was marvelously prepared by theodolite and level, by tented camps of men driving, with shouts and cracking whips, straining teams in circling mazes, about dark pits on grassy hillsides, and building long, straight banks of earth across swales; by huge machines with iron fists thrusting trunks of trees into the earth; by mighty creatures spinning great steel cobwebs over streams. at last, a short branch of steel shot off from pendleton's pacific division, grew daily longer and longer, pushed across the level earth-banks, the rows of driven tree-trunks, and the spun steel cobwebs, through the dark pits, nearer and nearer to lattimore, and at last entered the beleaguered city, amid rejoicings of the populace. most of whom knew but vaguely the facts of either siege or deliverance; but who shouted, and tossed their caps, and blew the horns and beat the drums, because the _herald_ in a double-leaded editorial assured them that this was _the_ event for which lattimore had waited to be raised to complete parity with her envious rivals. furthermore, captain tolliver, magniloquently enthusiastic, took charge of the cheering, artillery, and band-music, and made a tumultuous success of it. "he told me," said giddings, "that when the people of the north can be brought for a moment into that subjection which is proper for the masses, 'they make devilish good troops, suh, devilish good troops!'" and so it also happened that mr. elkins found himself the president of a real railway, with all the perquisites that go therewith. among these being the power to establish town-sites and give them names. the former function was exercised according to the principles usually governing town-site companies, and with ends purely financial in view. the latter was elevated to the dignity of a ceremony. the rails were scarcely laid, when president elkins invited a choice company to go with him over the line and attend the christening of the stations. he convinced the rest of us of the wisdom of this, by showing us that it would awaken local interest along the line, and prepare the way for the auction sales of lots the next week. "it's advertising of the choicest kind," said he. "giddings will sow it far and wide in the press dispatches, and it will attract attention; and attention is what we want. we'll start early, run to the station pendleton has called elkins junction, at the end of the line, lie over for a couple of hours, and come home, bestowing names as we come. help me select the party, and we'll consider it settled." as the train was to be a light one, consisting of a buffet-car and a parlor-car, the party could not be very large. the officers of the road, mr. adams, who was general traffic manager, and selected by the bondholders, and mr. kittrick, the general manager, who was found in kansas city by jim, went down first as a matter of course. captain tolliver and his wife, the trescotts, the hinckleys, with mr. cornish and giddings, were put down by jim; and to these we added the influential new people, the alexanders, who came with the cement-works, of which mr. alexander was president, mr. densmore, who controlled the largest of the elevators, and mr. walling, whose mill was the first to utilize the waters of our power-tunnel, and who was the visible representative of millions made in the flouring trade. smith, our architect, was included, as was cecil barr-smith, sent out by his brother to be superintendent of the street-railway, and looking upon the thing in the light of an exile, comforted by the beautiful native princess antonia. we left macdonald out, because he always called the young man "smith," and could not be brought to forget an early impression that he and the architect were brothers; besides, said jim, macdonald was afraid of the cars as he was of the hyphen, being most of the time on the range with the cattle belonging to himself and hinckley. which, being interpreted, meant that mr. macdonald would not care to go. mr. ballard was invited on account of his early connection with the l. & g. w. project, although he was holding himself more and more aloof from the new movements, and held forth often upon the value of conservatism. miss addison, who was related to the lattimore family, was commissioned to invite the old general, who very unexpectedly consented. his son will, as solicitor for the railway company and one of the directors, was to be one of us if he could. these with their wives and some invited guests from near-by towns made up the party. we were well acquainted with each other by this time, so that it was quite like a family party or a gathering of old friends. captain tolliver was austerely polite to general lattimore, whose refusal to concern himself with the question as to whether our city grew to a hundred thousand or shrunk to five he accounted for on the ground that a man who had led hired ruffians to trample out the liberty of a brave people must be morally warped. the general came, tall and spare as ever, wearing his beautiful white moustache and imperial as a frenchman would wear the cross of the legion of honor. he was quite unable to sympathize with our lot-selling, our plenitude of corporations, or our feverish pushing of "developments." but the building of the railway attracted him. he looked back at the new-made track as we flew along; and his eyes flashed under the bushy white brows. he sat near josie, and held her in conversation much of the outward trip; but jim he failed to appreciate, and treated indifferently. "he is history incarnate," said mrs. tolliver, "and cannot rejoice in the passing of so much that is a part of himself." giddings said that this was probably true; and under the circumstances he couldn't blame him. he, giddings, would feel a little sore to see things which were a part of _himself_ going out of date. it was a natural feeling. whereupon mrs. tolliver addressed her remarks very pointedly elsewhere; and antonia hinckley privately admonished giddings not to be mean; and giddings sought the buffet and smoked. here i joined him, and over our cigars he confessed to me that life to him was an increasing burden, rapidly becoming intolerable. we had noticed, i informed him, an occasional note of gloom in his editorials. this ought not to be, now that the real danger to our interests seemed to be over, and we were going forward so wonderfully. to which he replied that with the gauds of worldly success he had no concern. the editorials i criticised were joyous and ebulliently hilarious compared with those which might be expected in the future. if we could find some blithesome ass to pay him for the _herald_ enough money to take him out of our scrambled bedlam of a town, bring the idiot on, and he (giddings) would arrange things so we could have our touting done as we liked it! now the _herald_ had become a very valuable property, and of all men giddings had the least reason to speak despitefully of lattimore; and his frame of mind was a mystery to me, until i remembered that there was supposed to be something amiss between him and laura addison. craftily leading the conversation to the point where confidences were easy, i was rewarded by a passionate disclosure on his part, which would have amounted to an outburst, had it not been restrained by the presence of cornish, hinckley, and trescott at the other end of the compartment. "oh, pshaw!" said i, "you've no cause for despair. on your own showing, there's every reason for you to hope." "you don't know the situation, barslow," he insisted, shaking his head gloomily, "and there's no use in trying to tell you. she's too exalted in her ideals ever to accept me. she's told me things about the qualities she must have in the one who should be nearest to her that just simply shut me out; and i haven't called since. oh, i tell you, barslow, sometimes i feel as if i could--yes, sir, it'll be accepted as the best piece of railroad building for years!" i was surprised at the sudden transition, until i saw that our fellow passengers were crowding to our end of the car in response to the conductor's announcement that we were coming into elkins junction. i made a note of giddings's state of mind, as the subject of a conference with jim. the _herald_ was of too much importance to us for this to be neglected. the disciple of iago must in some way be restored to his normal view of things. i could not help smiling at the vast difference between his view of laura and mine. i, wrongly perhaps, thought her affectedly pietistic, with ideals likely to be yielding in spirit if the letter were preserved. elkins junction was a platform, a depot, an eating-house, and a y; and it was nothing else. "we've come up here," said jim, "to show you probably the smallest town in the state, and the only one in the world named after me. we wanted to show you the whole line, and mr. schwartz felt as if he'd prefer to turn his engine around for the return trip. the last two towns we came through, and hence the first two going back, are old places. the third station is a new town, and conductor corcoran will take us back there, where we'll unveil the name of the station, and permit the people to know where they live. while we're doing the sponsorial act, lunch will be prepared and ready for us to discuss during the next run." on the way back there was a stir of suppressed excitement among the passengers. "it's about this name," said miss addison to her seat-mate. "the town is on the shore of mirror lake, and they say it will be an important one, and a summer resort; and no one knows what the name is to be but mr. elkins." "really, a very odd affair!" said miss allen, of fairchild, antonia's college friend. "it makes a social function of the naming of a town!" "yes," said mr. elkins, "and it is one of the really enduring things we can do. long after the memory of every one here is departed, these villages will still bear the names we give them to-day. if there's any truth in the belief that some people have, that names have an influence for good or evil, the naming of the towns may be important as building the railroad." i was sitting with antonia. miss allen and captain tolliver were with us, our faces turned toward one another. general lattimore, with josie and her father, was on the opposite side of the car. most of the company were sitting or standing near, and the conversation was quite general. "oh, it's like a romance!" half whispered antonia to us. "i envy you men who build roads and make towns. look at mr. elkins, sadie, as he stands there! he is master of everything; to me he seems as great as napoleon!" she neither blushed nor sought to conceal from us her adoration for jim. it was the day of his triumph, and a fitting time to acknowledge his kinghood; and her admission that she thought him the greatest, the most excellent of men did not surprise me. yet, because he was older than she, and had never put himself in a really loverlike attitude toward her, i thought it was simply an exalted girlish regard, and not at all what we usually understand by an affair of the heart. moreover, at that time such praise as she gave him would not have been thought extravagant in almost any social gathering in lattimore. let me confess that to me it does not now seem so ... cecil barr-smith walked out and stood on the platform. general lattimore was apparently thinking of the features of the situation which had struck antonia as romantic. "you young men," said he, "are among the last of the city-builders and road-makers. my generation did these things differently. we went out with arms in our hands, and hewed out spaces in savagery for homes. you don't seem to see it; but you are straining every nerve merely to shift people from many places to one, and there to exploit them. you wind your coils about an inert mass, you set the dynamo of your power of organization at work, and the inert mass becomes a great magnet. people come flying to it from the four quarters of the earth, and the first-comers levy tribute upon them, as the price of standing-room on the magnet!" "i nevah hea'd the real merit and strength and safety of ouah real-estate propositions bettah stated, suh!" said captain tolliver ecstatically. jim stood looking at the general with sober regard. "go on, general," said he. "not only that," went on the general, "but people begin forestalling the standing-room, so as to make it scarcer. they gamble on the power of the magnet, and the length of time it will draw. they buy to-day and sell to-morrow; or cast up what they imagine they might sell for, and call the increase profit. then comes the time when the magnet ceases to draw, or the forestallers, having, in their greed, grasped more than they can keep, offer too much for the failing market, and all at once the thing stops, and the dervish-dance ends in coma, in cold forms and still hands, in misery and extinction!" there was a pause, during which the old soldier sat looking out of the widow, no one else finding aught to say. elkins remained standing, and once or twice gave that little movement of the head which precedes speech, but said nothing. cornish smiled sardonically. josie looked anxiously at jim, apprehensive as to how he would take it. at last it was ballard the conservative who broke silence. "i hope, general," said he, "that our little movement won't develop into a dervish-dance. anyhow, you will join in our congratulations upon the completion of the railroad. you know you once did some railroad-building yourself, down there in tennessee--i know, for i was there. and i've always taken an interest in track-laying ever since." "so have i," said the general; "that's what brought me out to-day." "oh, tell us about it," said josie, evidently pleased at the change of subject; "tell us about it, please." "no, no!" he protested, "you may read it better in the histories, written by young fellows who know more about it than we who were there. you'll find, when you read it, that it was something like this: grant's host was over around chattanooga, starving for want of means for carrying in provisions. we were marching eastward to join him, when a message came telling us to stop at decatur and rebuild the railroad to nashville. so, without a thought that there was such a thing as an impossibility, we stopped--we seven or eight thousand common americans, volunteer soldiers, picked at random from the legions of heroes who saved liberty to the world--and without an engineering corps, without tools or implements, with nothing except what any like number of our soldiers had, we stopped and built the road. that is all. the rails had been heated, and wound about trees and stumps. the cross-ties were burned to heat the rails. the cars had been destroyed by fire, and their warped ironwork thrown into ditches. the engines lay in scrap-heaps at the bottoms of ravines and rivers. the bridges were gone. out of the chaos to which the structure had been resolved, there was nothing left but the road-bed. "when i think of what we did, i know that with liberty and intelligence men with their naked hands could, in short space, re-create the destroyed wealth of the world. we made tools of the scraps of iron and steel we found along the line. we felled trees. we impressed little sawmills and sawed the logs into timbers for bridges and cars. out of the battle-scarred and march-worn ranks came creative and constructive genius in such profusion as to astound us, who thought we knew them so well. those blue-coated fellows, enlisted and serving as food for powder, and used to destruction, rejoiced in once more feeling the thrill there is in making things." "out of the ranks came millers, and ground the grain the foragers brought in; came woodmen, and cut the trees; came sawyers, and sawed the lumber. we asked for blacksmiths; and they stepped from the ranks, and made their own tools and the tools of the machinists. we called for machinists; and out of the ranks they stepped, and rebuilt the engines, and made the cars ready for the carpenters. when we wanted carpenters, out of the same ranks of common soldiers they walked, and made the cars. from the ranks came other men, who took the twisted rails, unwound them from the stumps and unsnarled them from one another, as women unwind yarn, and laid them down fit to carry our trains. and in forty days our message went back to grant that we had 'stopped and built the road,' and that our engines were even then drawing supplies to his hungry army. such was the incomparable army which was commanded by that silent genius of war; and to have been one of such an army is to have lived!" the withered old hand trembled, as the great past surged back through his mind. we all sat in silence; and i looked at captain tolliver, doubtful as to how he would take the old union general's speech. what the captain's history had been none of us knew, except that he was a southerner. when the general ceased, tolliver was sitting still, with no indication of being conscious of anything special in the conversation, except that a red spot burned in each dark cheek. as the necessity for speech grew with the lengthening silence, he rose and faced general lattimore. "suh," said he, "puhmit a man who was with the victohs of manasses; who chahged with mo' sand than sense at franklin; and who cried like a child aftah nashville, and isn't ashamed of it, by gad! to offah his hand, and to say that he agrees with you, suh, in youah tribute to the soldiers of the wah, and honahs you, suh, as a fohmah foe, and a worthy one, and he hopes, a future friend!" somehow, the captain's swelling phrases, his sonorous allusions to himself in the third person, had for the moment ceased to be ridiculous. the environment fitted the expression. the general grasped his hand and shook it. then ballard claimed the right, as one of the survivors of franklin, to a share in the reunion, and they at once removed the strain which had fallen upon us with the general's first speech, by relating stories and fraternizing soldierwise, until conductor corcoran called in at the door, "mystery number one! all out for the christening!" as we gathered on the platform, we saw that the signboard on the station-building, for the name of the town, had been put up, but was veiled by a banner draped over it. tents were pitched near, in which people lived waiting for the lot-auction, that they might buy sites for shops and homes. the waters of the lake shone through the trees a few rods away; and in imagination i could see the village of the future, sprinkled about over the beautiful shore. the future villagers gathered near the platform; and when jim stepped forward to make the speech of the occasion, he had a considerable audience. "ladies and gentlemen," said he, "our visit is for the purpose of showing the interest which the lattimore & great western takes and will continue to take in the towns on its line, and to add a name to what, i notice, has already become a local habitation. in conferring that name, we are aware that the future citizens of the place have claims upon us. so one has been selected which, as time passes, will grow more and more pleasant to your ears; and one which the person bestowing it regards as an honor to the town as high as could be conferred in a name. no station on our lines could have greater claims upon our regard than the possession of this name. and now, gentlemen--" mr. elkins removed his hat, and we all followed his example. some one pulled a cord, the banner fell away, and the name was revealed. it was "josephine." the women looked at it, and turned their eyes on josie, who blushed rosily, and shrank back behind her father, who burst into a loud laugh of unalloyed pleasure. "i propose three cheers for the town of josephine," went on mr. elkins, "and for the lady for whom it is named!" they were real cheers--good hearty ones; followed by an address, in the name of the town, by a bright young man who pushed forward and with surprising volubility thanked president elkins for his selection of the name, and closed with flowery compliments to the blushing miss trescott, whose identity jim had disclosed by a bow. he was afterwards a thorn in our flesh in his practice as a personal-injury lawyer. at the time, however, we warmed to him, as under his leadership the dwellers in the tents and round about the waters of mirror lake all shook hands with jim and josie. cornish stood with a saturnine smile on his face, and glared at some of the more pointed hits of the young lawyer. cecil barr-smith beamed radiant pleasure, as he saw the evident linking in this public way of jim's name and josie's. antonia stood close to cecil's side, and chatted vivaciously to him--not with him; for her words seemed to have no correlation with his. "quite like the going away of a bridal party!" said she with exaggerated gayety, and with a little spitefulness, i thought. "has any one any rice?" "all aboard!" said corcoran; and the joyful and triumphant party, with their outward intimacy and their inward warfare of passions and desires, rolled on toward "mystery number two," which was duly christened "cornish," and celebrated in champagne furnished by its godfather. "don't you ever drink champagne?" said cornish, as josie declined to partake. "never," said she. "what, _never_?" he went on, pinaforically. "my god!" thought i, "the assurance of the man!" and the palm-encircled alcove at auriccio's, as it was wont so often to do, came across my vision, and shut out everything but the psyche face in its ruddy halo, speeding by me into the street, and the vexed young man in the faultless attire slowly following. mystery number three was "antonia," a lovely little place in embryo; "barslow" came next, followed by "giddings" and "tolliver." we were tired of it when we reached "hinckley," platted on a farm owned by antonia's father, and where we ceased to perform the ceremony of unveiling. it was a memorable trip, ending with sunset and home. captain tolliver assisted general lattimore to alight from the train, and they went arm in arm up to the old general's home. that night, according to his wont, jim came to smoke with me in the late evening. "let's take a car," said he, "and go up and have a look at the houses." these were our new mansions up in lynhurst park addition, now in process of erection. in the moonlight we could see them dimly, and at a little distance they looked like masses of ruins--the second childhood of houses. a stranger could have seen, from the polished columns and the piles of carved stone, that they were to be expensive and probably beautiful structures. "what do you think of the general in the rôle of cassandra?" asked jim, as we sat in the skeleton room which was to be his library. "it struck me," said i, "as a particularly artistic bit of croaking!" "the captain says frequently," said jim, his cigar glowing like a variable star, "that opportunity knocks once. the general, i'm afraid, knocks all the time. but if it should turn out that he's right about the--the--dervish-dance ... it would be ... to put it mildly ... a horse on us, al, wouldn't it?" i had no answer to this fanciful speech, and made none. instead, i told him of giddings's love-sickness. "the philosophy of iago has broken down," said he, "and the boy is sort of short-circuited. antonia can take him in hand, and turn him out full of confidence; and with that, i'll answer for the lady. that can be fixed easy, and ought to be. let's walk back." "what was it he said?" he asked, as we parted. "'coma, cold forms, still hands, and extinction.' well, if the dervish-dance does wind up in that sort of thing, it's only a short-cut to the inevitable. those are pretty houses up there; we'd have been astounded over them when we used to fish together on beaver creek;--but suppose they are? "'they say the lion and the lizard keep the courts where jamshyd gloried and drank deep; and bahram, that great hunter--the wild ass stamps o'er his head, but cannot break his sleep!' good-night, al!" chapter xv. some affairs of the heart considered in their relation to dollars and cents. antonia was sitting in a hammock. josie and alice were not far away watching cecil barr-smith, who was wading into the lake to get water-lilies for them, contrary to the ordinances of the city of lattimore in such cases made and provided. the six were dawdling away our time one fine sunday in lynhurst park. i forgot to say mr. elkins and myself were discussing affairs of state with miss hinckley. "he's such a ninny," said antonia. "aren't all people when in his forlorn condition?" asked jim. antonia looked away at the clouds, and did not reply. "but if he had a morsel of the cynical philosophy he boasts of," said she, "he could see." "i don't know about that," said jim lazily, looking over at the other group; "a woman can conceal her feelings in such a case pretty completely." "i don't know about that," echoed antonia. "i wish i did; it would simplify things." "i believe," said i, "that it's a simple enough matter for you to solve and manage as it is." "but it's so absurd to bother with!" said she; "and what's the use?" "doesn't it seem that way?" said jim. "and yet you know we brought him here for a definite purpose; and in his present state he can't make good. just read his editorial this morning: it would add gloom to the proceedings, read at a funeral. we want things whooped up, and he wants to whoop 'em; but long screeds on 'the sacred right of self-destruction' hurt things, and bring the paper into disrepute, and crowd out optimistic matter that we desire. and as long as both families want the thing brought about, and there is good reason to think that laura will not prove eternally immovable, i take it to be an important enough matter, from the standpoint of dollars and cents, for the exercise of our diplomacy." "well, then," said antonia, "get the people together on some social occasion, and we'll try." "i've thought," said jim, "of having a house-warming--as soon as the weather gets so that the very name of the function won't keep folks away. my house is practically done, you know." "just the thing," said antonia. "there are cosy nooks and deep retreats enough to make it a sort of labyrinth for the ensnaring of our victims." "isn't it a queer thing in language," said jim, "that these retreats are the places where advances are made!" "not when you consider," said antonia, "that retreats follow repulses." "we ought to have the captain and the general here, if this military conversation is to continue," said i. "and here comes cecil. stop before he comes, or we shall never get through with the explanation of the jokes." this remark elicited the laughter which the puns failed to provoke; for cecil was color-blind in all things relating to the american joke. the humor of _punch_ appealed to him, and the wit of sterne and dean swift; but the funny column and the paragrapher's niche of our newspapers he regarded as purely pathological phenomena. i sometimes feel that cecil was right about this. can the mind which continues to be charmed by these paragraphic strainings be really sound?--but this is not a dissertation. cecil reconciled himself to his position as the local exemplification of the traditional englishman whose trains of ideas run on the freight schedule--and was one of the most popular fellows in lattimore. he gloried in his slavery to antonia, and seemed to glean hope from the most sterile circumstances. it was easy to hope, in lattimore, then. it was not many days after our talk in the park before i noticed a change for the better in giddings, even. just before jim's house-warming, he came to me with something like optimism in his appearance. i started to cheer him up, and went wrong. "i'm glad to see by your cheerful looks," said i, "that the philosophy of iago--" "say, now!" cried he, "don't remind me of that, for heaven's sake!" "why, certainly not," said i, "if you object." "i do object," said he most earnestly; "why, that damned-fool philosophy may have ruined my life, you know." "of course i know what you mean," said i; "but i'm convinced, and so are all your friends, that if you fail, it'll be your own lack of nerve, and nothing else, that you'll owe the disaster to. you should--" "i should have refrained from trampling under foot the dearest ideals of the only girl-- however, i can't talk of these things to any one, barslow. but i have some hope now. antonia and josie have both been very kind lately--and say, barslow, i see now how little foundation there is for that old gag about the women hating each other!" "i've always felt," said i, anxious to draw him out so that i might see what the conspirators had been doing, "that there's nothing in _that_ idea. but what has changed your view?" "antonia, and josie, and even your wife," said he, "have been keeping up a regular lobby in my behalf with laura. they think they've got the deal plugged up now, so that she'll give me a show again, and--" "why, surely," said i; "in my opinion, there never was any need for you to feel downcast." "barslow," he said, with the air of a man who has endured to the limit, "you are a good fellow, but you make me tired when you talk like that. why, four weeks ago i had no more show than a snowball in--in the crater of vesuvius. but now i'm encouraged. these girls have been doing me good, as i just said, and i'm convinced that my series of editorials on 'the influence of christianity on civilization,' in which i've given the church the credit of being the whole thing, has helped some." "they ought to do good somewhere," said i, "they certainly haven't boomed lattimore any." "damn lattimore!" said he bitterly. "when a man's very life--but see here, barslow, i know you're not in earnest about this. and i'll be all right in a day or two, or i'll be eternally wrong. i'm going to make one final cast of the die. i may go down to bottomless perdition, or i may be caught up to the battlements of heaven; but such a mass of doubts and miseries as i've been lately, i'll no longer be! pray for me, barslow, pray for me!" this despairing condition of giddings's was a sort of continuing sensation with us at that time. we discussed it quite freely in all its aspects, humorous and tragic. it was so unexpected a development in the young man's character, and, with all due respect to the discretion and resisting powers of miss addison, so entirely gratuitous and factitious. "he has ability as a writer," said the captain; "but in such a mattah anybody but a fool ought to see that the thing to do is to chahge the intrenchments. i trust that i may not be misunde'stood when i say that, in my opinion, a good rattling chahge would not be a fo'lo'n hope!" "it bothers," said jim; "and if it weren't for that, i'd feel conscience-stricken at doing anything to rob the idiot of a most delicious grief." the coolness of early autumn was in the air the night of jim's house-warming. to describe his dwelling, in these days when fortunes are spent on the details of a stairway, and a king's ransom for the tapestries of a salon, all of which luxuries are spread before the eyes of the public in the columns of sunday papers and magazines, would be to court an anticlimax. but this was before the multimillionaire had made the need for an augmentative of the word "luxury"; and jim's house was noteworthy for its beauty: its cunningly wrought iron and wood; and columned halls and stairways; and wide-throated fireplaces, each a picture in tile, wood, and metalwork; and vistas like little fairylands through silken portières; and carven chairs and couches, reminiscent of royal palaces; and chambers where lovely color-schemes were worked out in rug, and bed, and canopy. there were decorations made by men whose names were known in london and paris. from out-of-the-way places mr. elkins had brought collections of queer and interesting and pretty things which, all his life, he had been accumulating; and in his library were broad areas of well-worn book-backs. somehow, people looked upon the mr. elkins who was master of all these as a more important man than the elkins who had blown into the town on some chance breeze of speculation, and taken rooms at the centropolis. it was all light and color, that night. even the formal flower-beds of the grounds and the fountain spouting on the lawn were like scenery in the lime-light. only, back in the shrubbery there were darker nooks in summer-houses and arbors for those who loved darkness rather than light, because their deeds, to the common mind, were likely to seem foolish. i remember thinking that if mr. giddings really wanted a chance to take the high dive of which he had spoken to me, the opportunity was before him. his laura was there, her devotee-like expression striving with an exceedingly low-cut dress to sound the distinguishing note of her personality. giddings was at the punch-bowl as on their arrival she swept past with the general. when he saw the nun-like glance over the swelling bosom, the poor stricken cynic blushed, turned pale, and wheeled to flee. but cecil, as if following orders, arrested him and began plying him with the punch--from which giddings seemed to draw courage: for i saw him, soon, gravitate to her whom he loved and so mysteriously dreaded. "it's a pe'fect jewel-case of a house!" said the captain, as he moved with the trooping company through the mansion. "indeed, indeed it is," said mrs. tolliver to alice; "the jewel, whoever it may be, is to be envied." "i hope," said jim to josie, "that you agree with mrs. tolliver?" "oh, yes," said josie, "but you attach far too much importance to my judgment. if it is any comfort to you, however, i want to praise--everything--unreservedly." "i won't know, for a while," said jim, "whether it is to be my house only, or home in the full sense of the word." "one doesn't know about that, i fancy," said cecil; "for a long time--" "i mean to know soon," said jim. josie was looking intently at the carving on one of the chairs, and paid no heed, though the remark seemed to be addressed to her. "what i mean, you know," said cecil, "is that, no matter how well the house may be built and furnished, it's the associations, the history of the place, the things that are in the air, that makes 'ome!" there was in the manner of his capitalizing the word as he uttered it, and in the unwonted elision of the h, that tribute to his dear island which the exiled briton (even when soothed by the consolation offered by street-car systems to superintend, and rose-pink blondes to serve), always pays when he speaks of home. "associations," said jim, "may be historical or prophetic. in the former case, we have to take them on trust; but as to those of the future, we are sure of them." "yahs," said cecil, using the locution which he always adopted when something subtle was said to him, "i dare say! i dare say!" "well, then," jim went on, "i have this matter of the atmosphere or associations under my own control." "just so," said cecil. "clever conceit, miss trescott, isn't it, now?" but miss trescott had apparently heard nothing of jim's speech, and begged pardon; and wouldn't they go and show her the bronzes in the library? "this mansion, general," said the captain, "takes one back, suh, to the halcyon days of american history. i refeh, suh, to those times when the plantahs of the black prairie belt of alabama lived like princes, in the heart of an enchanted empire!" "a very interesting period, captain," said the general. "it is a pity that the industrial basis was one which could not endure!" "in the midst of fo'ests, suh," went on the captain, "we had ouah mansions, not inferio' to this--each a little kingdom with its complete wo'ld of amusements, its cote, and its happy populace, goin' singin' to the wo'k which supported the estate!" "yes," said the general, "i thought, when we were striking down that state of things, that we were doing a great thing for that populace. but i now see that i was only helping the black into a new slavery, the fruits of which we see here, around us, to-night." "i hahdly get youah meaning, suh--" "well," said the general, looking about at the little audience. (it was in the smoking-room, and those present were smokers only.) "well, now, take my case. i have some pretty valuable grounds down there where i live. when i got them, they were worthless. i could build as good a mansion as this or any of your ante-bellum alabama houses for what i can get out of that little tract. what is that value? merely the expression in terms of money of the power of excluding the rest of mankind from that little piece of ground. i make people give me the fruits of their labor, myself doing nothing. that's what builds this house and all these great houses, and breeds the luxury we are beginning to see around us; and the consciousness that this slavery exists, and is increasing, and bids fair to grow greatly, is what is making men crazy over these little spots of ground out here in the west! it is this slavery--" "suh," exclaimed the captain, rising and grasping the general's hand, "you have done me the favo' of making me wisah! i nevah saw so cleahly the divine decree which has fo'eo'dained us to this opulence. nothing so satisfactory, suh, as a basis and reason foh investment, has been advanced in my hearing since i have been in the real-estate business! let us wo'k this out a little mo' in detail, if you please, suh--" "let us escape while there is yet time!" said cornish; and we fled. after supper there was a cotillion. the spacious ballroom, with its roof so high that the lights up there were as stars, was a sight which could scarcely be reconciled with the village community which he had found and changed. the palms, and flowers, and lights which decorated the room; the orchestra's river of dance-music; the men, all in the black livery which--on the surface--marks the final conquest of civilization over barbarism; the beautiful gowns, the sparkling jewels, and the white shoulders and arms of the ladies--all these made me wonder if i had not been transported to some mayfair or newport, so pictorial, so decorative, so charged with art, it seemed to be. the young people, carrying on their courtships in these unfamiliar halls, their disappearances into the more remote and tenebrous outskirts of the assembly--all seemed to me to be taking place on the stage, or in some romance. i told alice about this as we walked home--it was only across the street--to our own new house. "don't tell any one about this feeling of yours," said she. "it betrays your provincialism, my dear. you should feel, for the first time in your life, perfectly at home. 'armor, rusting on his walls, on the blood of clifford calls,' you know." "mine didn't hear the call," said i; "i'm probably the first of my race to wear this--but i enjoyed it." "well, i am too full of something that took place to discuss the matter," said she, as we sat down at home. "i am perplexed. you know about mr. cornish and josie, don't you?" she startled me, for i had never told her a word. "know about them!" i cried, a little dramatically. "what do you mean? no, i don't!" "why, what's the matter, albert?" she queried. "i haven't charged them with midnight assassination, or anything like that! only, it seems that he has been making love to her, for some time, in his cool and self-contained way. i've known it, and she's been perfectly conscious, that i knew; but never said anything to me of it, and seemed unwilling even to approach the subject. but to-night cecil and i found her out in the canopied seat by the fountain, and i knew something was the matter, and sent cecil away. something told me that mr. cornish was concerned in it, and i asked her at once where he went. "'he is gone!' said she. 'i don't know where he is, and i don't care! i wish i might never see him any more!' "you may imagine my surprise. when a young woman uses such language about a man, it is a certainty that she isn't voicing her true feelings, or that it isn't a normal love affair. so i wormed out of her that he had made her an offer." "'well,' said i, 'if, as i infer from your conversation, you have refused him, there's an end of the matter; and you need not worry about seeing him any more.' "'but,' said she, 'alice, i haven't refused him!' "that took me aback a little," went on alice, "for i had other plans for her; so i said: 'you haven't accepted the fellow, have you?' "'oh, no, no!' said she, in a sort of quivery way, 'but what right have you to speak of him in that way?' and that is all i could get out of her. she was so unreasonable and disconnected in her talk, and the others came out, and i tell you what, albert barslow, that man cornish will do evil yet, among us! i have always thought so!" "i don't see any ground for any such prediction," said i, "in anything you have told me. her inability to make up her mind--" "means that there's something wrong," said my wife dogmatically. "it means that he has some sinister influence over her, as he has over almost everybody, with those coal-black eyes of his and his satanic ways. and worse than all else, it means that he'll finally get her, in spite of herself!" "pshaw!" said i. "go away, albert!" said she, "or we shall quarrel. go back and find my fan--i left it on the mantel in the library. the house is lighted yet; and i was going to send you back anyhow. kiss me, and go, please." i felt that if alice had had in her memory my vision of the supper at auriccio's, she would have been confirmed in her fears; but to me, in spite of the memory, they seemed absurd. my only apprehension was that she might be right as to the final outcome, to the wreck of jim's hopes. i did not take the matter at all seriously, in fact. i think we men must usually have such an affair worked out to some conclusion, for weal or woe, before we regard it otherwise than lightly. that was the reason that giddings's distraught condition was only a matter of laughter to all of us. and as something like this passed through my mind, giddings himself collared me as i crossed the street. "old man!" said he, "congratulate me! it's all right, barslow, it's all right." "up on the battlements, are you?" said i. "well, i congratulate you, giddings; and don't make such an ass of yourself, please, any more. i never noticed until this evening what a fine girl laura is. you're really a very fortunate fellow indeed!" "you never noticed it!" said he with utter scorn. "well, if--" "it's late," said i. "come and see me in the morning! good-night." i went in at the front door of the house. it stood wide open, as if the current of guests passing out had removed its tendency to swing shut. it seemed lonely now, inside, with all the decorations of the assembly still in place in the empty hall. i passed into the library, and found jim sitting idly in a great leather chair. he seemed not to see me; or if he did, he paid no attention. i went to the mantel, picked up alice's fan, and turned to jim. "sit down," said he. "having a sort of 'oft in the stilly night' experience, jim, or a case of william the conqueror on the field of hastings?" "yes," said he. "something like that." "well, your house-warming has been a success, jim," said i, "though a fellow wouldn't think so to look at you. and the house is faultless. i envy you the house, but the ability to plan and furnish it still more. i didn't think it was in you, old man! where did you learn it all?" "you may have the house, if you want it, al," said he. "i don't think it's going to be of any use to me." "why, jim," said i, seeing that it was something more than a mere mood with him, "what is it? has anything gone wrong?" "nothing that i've any right to complain of," said he. "of course, no man puts as much of his life into such a thing as i have into this--without thinking of more than living in it--alone. i've never had what you can really call a home--not since i was a little chap, when it was home wherever there were trees and mother. i've filled this--with those associations i spoke to barr-smith about--to-night--a little more than i seem to have had any warrant to do. i tried to make sure about the jewel for the jewel-case to-night, and it went wrong, al; and that's all there is of it. i don't think i shall need the house, and if you like it you can have it." "do you mean that josie has refused you?" said i. "she didn't put it that way," said he, "but it amounts to that." "nothing that isn't a refusal," said i, "ought to be accepted as such. what did she say?" "nothing definite," he answered wearily, "only that it couldn't be 'yes,' and when i urged her to make it 'yes' or 'no,' she refused to say either; and asked me to forget that i had ever said anything to her about the matter. there have been some things which--led me to hope--for a different answer; and i'm a good deal taken down, al ... i wouldn't like to talk this way--with any one else." there seemed to be no reason for abandonment of hope, i urged upon him, and after a cigar or so i left him, evidently impressed with this view of the case, but nevertheless bitterly disappointed. it meant delay and danger to his hopes; and jim was not a man to brook delay, or suffer danger to go unchallenged. i dared not tell him of cornish's offer, and of its fate, so similar to his. "i wonder if it is coquetry on her part," thought i, as i went back with the fan. "i wonder if it will cause things to go wrong in our business affairs. i wonder if it is possible for her to be sincerely unable to make up her mind, or if there is anything in alice's malign-influence theory. anyhow, in the department of cupid business certainly is picking up!" chapter xvi. some things which happened in our halcyon days. if there was any tension among us just after the house-warming, it was not noticeable. mr. cornish and mr. elkins seemed unaware of their rivalry. had either of the two been successful, it might have made mischief; but as it was, neither felt that his rejection was more than temporary. neither knew much of the other's suit, and both seemed full of hope and good spirits. altogether, these were our halcyon days. it seemed to crew and captain a time for the putting off of armor, and the donning of the garlands of complacent respite from struggle. the work we had undertaken seemed accomplished--our village was a city. the great wheel we had set whirling went spinning on with power. long ago we had ceased to treat the matter jocularly; and to regard our operations as applied psychology only, or as a piratical reunion, no longer occurred to us. there is such a thing, i believe, as self-hypnotism; but if we knew it, we made no application of our knowledge to our own condition. this great, scattered, ebullient town, grown from the drowsy lattimore of a few years ago, must surely be, even now, what we had willed it to be: and therefore, could we not pause and take our ease? there was the general, of course. he, jim said, "'knocked' so constantly as to be sort of ex-officio president of the boiler-makers' union," and talked of the inevitable collapse. but who ever heard of a city built by people of his way of thinking? and there was josie trescott, with her agreement on broad lines with the general, and her deprecation of the giving of fortunes to people who had not earned them; but josie was only a woman, who, to be sure, knew more of most matters than the rest of us, but could not have any very valuable knowledge of the prospects for commercial prosperity. that we were in the midst of an era of the most wonderful commercial prosperity none denied. how could they? the streets, so lately bordered with low stores, hotels, and banks, were now craggy with tall office buildings and great hostelries, through which the darting elevators shot hurrying passengers. those trees which made early twilight in the streets that night when alice, jim, and i first rode out to the trescott farm were now mostly cut down to make room for "improvements." brushy creek gorge was no longer dark and cool, with its double sky-line of trees drowsing toward one another, like eyelashes, from the friendly cliffs. the cooing of the pigeons was gone forever. the muddied water from the great flume raced down through the ravine, turning many wheels, but nowhere gathering in any form or place which seemed good for trout. on either side stood shanties, and ramshackle buildings where such things as stonecutting and blacksmithing were done. along the waterside ran the tracks of our terminal and belt line system, on which trains of flat-cars always stood, engaged in the work of carrying away the cliffs, in which they were aided and abetted by giant derricks and the fiends of dynamite and nitro-glycerin. limekilns burned all the time, turning the companionable gray ledges into something offensive and corrosive. one must now board a street-car, and ride away beyond lynhurst park before one could find the good and pure little brushy creek of yore. the dwellers in the houses which stood in their lawns of vivid green had gone away into the new "additions," to be in the fashion, and to escape from the smoke and clang of engine and factory. their old houses were torn away, or converted, by new and incongruous extensions, into cheap boarding-houses. only the lattimore house kept faith with the past, and stood as of old, in its five acres of trees and grass, untouched of the fever for platting and subdivision, its very skirts drawn up from the asphalt by austere retaining-walls. and here went on the preparation for the time when laura and clifford were to stand up and declare their purposes and intentions with reference to each other. the first wedding this was to be, in all our close-knit circle. "i am glad," said i, "that they are all so sensible as not to permit rivalries to breed discord among us. it might be disastrous." "there is time," said alice, "for that to develop yet." not that everything happened as we wished. indeed, some things gave us much anxiety. bill trescott, for instance, began at last to show signs of that going up in the air which jim had said we must keep him from. even captain tolliver complained that bill's habits were getting bad: and he was the last person in the world to censure excess in the vices which he deemed gentlemanly. his own idea of morning, for instance, was that period of the day when the bad taste in the mouth so natural to a gentleman is removed by a stiff toddy, drunk just before prayers. he would, no doubt, have conceded to the inventor of the alphabet a higher place among men than that of the discoverer of the mint julep, had the matter been presented to him in concrete form; but would have qualified the admission by adding, with a seriousness incompatible with the average conception of a joke: "but the question is sutt'nly one not entiahly free from doubt, suh; not entiahly free from doubt!" however, the captain had his standards, and prescribed for himself limits of time, place, and degree, to which he faithfully conformed. but he had been for a long time doing business under a sort of partnership arrangement with bill, and their affairs had become very much interwoven. so he came to us, one day, in something like a panic, on finding that bill had become a frequenter of one of the local bucket-shops, and had been making maudlin boasts of the profitable deals he had made. "this means, gentlemen," said the captain, "that influences entiahly fo'eign to ouah investments hyah ah likely to bring a crash, which will not only wipe out mr. trescott, but, owin' to ouah association in the additions we have platted, cyah'y me down also! you can see that with sev'al hundred thousand dolla's of deferred payments on what we have sold, most of which have been rediscounted in the east by the g. b. t., mr. trescott's condition becomes something of serious conce'n fo' you-all, as well as fo' me. nothing else, i assuah you, gentlemen, could fo'ce me to call attention to a mattah so puahly pussonal as a diffe'nce between gentlemen in theiah standahds of inebriety! nothing else, believe me!" by the g. b. t. the captain meant the grain belt trust company, and anything which affected its solvency or welfare was, as he said, a matter of serious concern for all of us. in fact, at that very moment there were in lattimore two officers of new england banks with whom we had placed a rather heavy line of g. b. t. securities, and who had made the trip for the purpose of looking us up. suppose that they found out that the notes and mortgages of william s. trescott & co. really had back of them only some very desirable suburban additions, and the personal responsibility of a retired farmer, who was daily handing his money to board-of-trade gamblers, with whom he was getting an education in the great strides we are making in the matter of mixed drinks? this thought occurred to all of us at once. "well," said cornish, stating the point of agreement after the captain's trouble had been fully discussed, "unfortunately 'the right to be a cussed fool is safe from all devices human,' and there doesn't seem to be any remedy." it all came, thought i, as jim and i sat silent after cornish and the captain went out, from the fact that bill's present condition in life gave those tendencies to which he had always been prone to yield, a chance for unrestricted growth. he ought to have staid with his steers. cattle and corn were the only things in which he could take an interest sufficiently keen to keep him from drink. these habits of his were enacting the old story of the lop-eared rabbits in australia--overrunning the country. bill had been as sober a citizen as one could desire, as long as his house-building occupied his time; and he and josie had worked together as companionably as they used to do in the hay and wheat. but now he was drifting away from her. her father should have staid on the farm. "do you know," said i, "that giddings is making about as great a fool of himself as bill?" "yes," said jim, "but that's because he's in a terrible state of mind about his marriage. if we can keep him from delirium tremens until after the wedding, he'll be all right. some italian brain-sharp has written up cases like his, and he'll be all right. but with bill it's different.... do you remember our old shep?" "no," i returned wonderingly, almost impatiently. "what about him?" "well," he mused, "i've been picking up knowledge of men for a while along back; and i've come to prize more highly the personal history of dogs; and shep was worth a biography for its own sake, to say nothing of the value of a typical case. he was a woolly collie, who would cheerfully have given up his life for the cows and sheep. anything in his line, that a dog could grasp, shep knew, and he was busier than a cranberry-merchant the year around, and the happiest thing on the farm. then our folks moved to mayville, and took him along. he wasn't fitted for town life at all. he'd lie on the front piazza, and search the street for cows and sheep, and when one came along he'd stick his sharp nose through the fence, and whine as if some one was whipping him. in less than six weeks he bit a baby; in two months he was the most depraved dog in mayville, and in three ... he died." i had no answer for the apologue--not even for the self-condemnatory tone in which he told it. presently he rose to go, and said that he would not be back. "don't forget our date at the club this evening," said he, as he passed out. "your style of diplomacy always seems to win with these down-east bankers. your experience as rob-ee gives you the right handshake and the subscribed-and-sworn-to look that does their business for 'em every time. good-by until then." our club was the terminal bud of our growth, and was housed in a building of which we were enormously proud. it was managed by a steward imported from new york, whose salary was made large to harmonize with his manners--that being the only way in which the majority of our members felt equal to living up to them. so far as money could make a club, ours was of high rank. there were meat-cooks and pastry-cooks in incredible numbers, under the command of a french chef, who ruled the house committee with a rod of iron. we were all members as a matter of public duty. i have often wondered what the servants, brought from eastern cities, thought of it all. to see bill trescott and aleck macdonald going in through the great door, noiselessly swung open for them by an attendant in livery, was a sight to be remembered. the chief ornament of the club was cornish, who lived there. "i want to see mr. cornish," said i to the servant who took my overcoat, that evening. "right this way, sir," said he. "mr. giddings is with him. he gave orders for you to be shown up." cornish sat at a little round table on which there were some bottles and glasses. the tipple was evidently ale, and mr. giddings was standing opposite, lifting a glass in one hand and pointing at it with the other, in evident imitation of the attitude in which the late mr. gough loved to have himself pictured; but the sentiments of the two speakers were quite different. "'turn out more ale; turn up the light!'" giddings glanced at the electric light-fixtures, and then looked about as if for a servant to turn them up. "'i will not go to bed to-night! for, of all foes that man should dread, the first and worst one is a bed! friends i have had, both old and young; ale have we drunk, and songs we've sung. enough you know when this is said, that, one and all, they died in bed!'" here giddings's voice broke with grief, and he stopped to drink the rest of the glassful, and went on: "'in bed they died, and i'll not go where all my friends have perished so! go, ye who fain would buried be; but not to-night a bed for me!'" "do you often have these horatian fits?" i inquired. "base groveler!" said he, "if you can't rise to the level of the occasion, don't butt in." "'for me to-night no bed prepare, but set me out my oaken chair, and bid me other guests beside the ghosts that shall around me glide!'" "you will, of course," said cornish, "permit us to withdraw for the purpose of having our conference with our eastern friends? if i take your meaning, you'll not be alone." "not by a jugful, i'll not be alone!" said giddings, tossing off another glass: "'in curling smoke-wreaths i shall see a fair and gentle company. though silent all, fair revelers they, who leave you not till break of day! go, ye who would not daylight see; but not to-night a bed for me! for i've been born, and i've been wed, and all man's troubles come of bed!'" here giddings sank down in his chair and began weeping. "the divinest attribute of poetry," said he, "is that of bringing tears. let me weep awhile, fellows, and then i'll give you the last stanza. last stanza's the best--" and in the midst of his critique he went to sleep, thereby breaking his rule adopted in "_dum vivemus vigilemus_." "is he this way often?" said i to cornish, as we went down to meet jim and the bankers. "pretty often," said cornish. "i don't know how i'd amuse my evenings if it weren't for giddings. he's too far gone to-night, though, to be entertaining. gets worse, i think, as the wedding-day approaches. trying to drown his apprehensions, i suspect. funny fellow, giddings. but he's all right from noon to nine p.m." "i think we'll have to organize a dipsomaniacs' hospital for our crowd," said i, "if things keep going on as they are tending now! i didn't think giddings was so many kinds of an ass!" my complainings were cut short by our entrance into the presence of mr. elkins and the new england bankers. i asked to be excused from partaking of the refreshments which were served. i had seen and heard enough to spoil my appetite. i was agreeably surprised to find that their independent investigations of conditions in lattimore had convinced them of the safety of their investments. really, they said, were it not for the pleasure of meeting us here at our home, they should feel that the time and expense of looking us up were wasted. but, handling, as they did, the moneys of estates and numerous savings accounts, their customers were of a class in whom timidity and nervousness reach their maximum, and they were obliged to keep themselves in position to give assurances as to the safety of their investments from their personal investigations. mr. hinckley, who was with us, assured them that his life as a banker enabled him fully to realize the necessity of their carefulness, which we, for our own parts, were pleased to know existed. we were only too glad to exhibit our books to them, make a complete showing as to our condition generally, and even take them to see each individual piece of property covered by our paper. mr. hinckley went with them to their hotel, having proposed enough work in the way of investigation to keep them with us for several months. they were to leave on the evening of the next day. "but," said jim, as we put on our overcoats to go home, "it shows our good will, you see." at that moment the steward, with an anxious look, asked mr. elkins for a word in private. "ask mr. barslow if he will kindly step over here," i heard jim say; and i joined them at once. "i was just saying, sir, to mr. elkins," said the steward, "that ordinarily i'd not think of mentioning such a thing as a gentleman's being indisposed but should see that he was cared for here. but mr. trescott being in such a state, i felt it was a case for his friends or the hospital. he's been--a--seeing things this afternoon; and while he's better now in that regard, his--" "have a closed carriage brought at once," said mr. elkins. "al, you'd better go up to the house, and let them know we're coming. i'll take him home!" i shrank from the meeting with mrs. trescott and josie, more, i think, than if it had been bill's death which i was to announce. as i approached the house, i got from it, somehow, the impression that it was a place of night-long watchfulness; and i was not surprised by the fact that before i had time to ring or knock at the door mrs. trescott herself opened it, with an expression on her face which spoke of long vigils, and of fear passing on to certainty. she peered past me for an expected something on the street. her leisure and its new habits had assimilated her in dress and make-up to the women of the wealthier sort in the city; but there was an immensity of trouble in the agonized eye and the pitiful droop of her mouth, which i should have rejoiced to see exchanged again for the ill-groomed exterior and the old fret of the farm. her first question ignored all reference to the things leading to my being there, "in the dead vast and middle of the night," but went past me to the core of her trouble, as her eye had gone on from me to the street, in the search for the thing she dreaded. "where is he, mr. barslow?" said she, in a hushing whisper; "where is he?" "he is a little sick," said i, "and mr. elkins is bringing him home. i came on to tell you." "then he is not--" she went on, still in that hushed voice, and searching me with her gaze. "no, i assure you!" i answered. "he is in no immediate danger, even." josie came quietly forward from the dusk of the room beyond, where i saw she had been listening, reminding me, in spite of the incongruity of the idea, of that time when she emerged from the obscurity of her garden, and stood at the foot of the windmill tower, leaning on her father's arm, her hands filled with petunias, the night we first visited the trescott farm. and then my mind ran back to that other night when she had thrown herself into his arms and begged him to take her away; and he had said, "w'y, yes, little gal, of course i'll take yeh away, if yeh don't like it here!" i think that i, perhaps, was more nearly able than any one else in the world beside herself to gauge her grief at this long death in which she was losing him, and he himself. she took my hand, pressed it silently, and began caressing her mother and whispering to her things which i could not hear. mrs. trescott sat upon a sort of divan, shaking with terrible, soundless sobs, and clasping and unclasping her hands, but making no other gesture. i stood helpless at the hidden abyss of woe so suddenly uncovered before me and until this very moment screened by the conventions which keep our souls apart like prisoners in the cells in some great prison. these two women had been bearing this for a long time, and we, their nearest friends, had stood aloof from them. as i stood thinking of this, the carriage-wheels ground upon the pavement in the _porte cochère_; and a moment later jim came in, his face graver than i had ever seen it. he sat down by mrs. trescott, and gently took one of her hands. "dr. aylesbury has given him a morphia injection," said he, "and he is sound asleep. the doctor thinks it best for us to carry him right to his room. there is a man here from the hospital, who will stay and nurse him; and the doctor came, too." mrs. trescott started up, saying that she must arrange his room. soon the four of us had placed him in bed, where he lay, puffy and purple, with a sort of pasty pallor overspreading his face. his limbs occasionally jerked spasmodically; but otherwise he was still under the spell of the opiate. his wife, now that there was something definite to do, was self-possessed and efficient, taking the physician's instructions with ready apprehension. the fact that bill had now assumed the character of a patient rather than that of a portent seemed to make the trouble, somehow, more normal and endurable. the wife and daughter insisted upon assuming the care of him, but assented to the nurse's remaining as a help in emergencies. it was nearing dawn when i took my leave. as i approached the door, i saw jim and josie in the hall, and heard him making some last tenders of aid and comfort before his departure. he put out his hand, and she clasped it in both of hers. "i want to thank you," said she, "for what you have done." "i have done nothing," he replied. "it is what i wish to do that i want you to think of. i do not know whether i shall ever be able to forgive myself--" "no, no!" said she. "you must not talk--you must not allow yourself to feel in that way. it is unjust--to yourself and to--me--for you to feel so!" i advanced to them, but she still stood looking into his face and holding his hand clasped in hers. there was something of appeal, of an effort to express more than the words said, in her look and attitude. he answered her regard by a gaze so pathetically wistful that she averted her face, pressed his hand, and turned to me. "good-night to you both, and thank you both, a thousand times!" said she. * * * * * "i wonder if old shep's relations and friends," said jim, as we stood under the arc light in front of my house, "ever came to forgive the people who took him away from his flocks and herds." "after what i've seen in the last few minutes," said i, "i haven't the least doubt of it." "al," said he, "these be troublous times, but if i believed all that what you say implies, i'd go home happy, if not jolly. and i almost believe you're right." "well," said i, assuming for once the rôle of the mentor, "i think that you are foolish to worry about it. we have enough actual, well-defined, surveyed and platted grief on our hands, without any mooning about hunting for the speculative variety. go home, sleep, and bring down a clear brain for to-morrow's business." "to-day's," said he gaily. "tear off yesterday's leaf from the calendar, al. for, look! the morn, dressed as usual, 'walks o'er the dew of yon high eastern hill.'" chapter xvii. relating to the disposition of the captives. it was not later than the next day but one, that i met giddings, alert, ingratiating, and natty as ever. "when am i to have the third stanza?" i inquired, "the one that's 'the best of all.'" this question he seemed to take as a rebuke; for he reddened, while he tried to laugh. "barslow," said he, "there isn't any use in our discussing this thing. you couldn't understand it. a man like you, who can calculate to a hair just how far he is going and just where to turn back, and--oh, damn! there's no use!" i sympathize with giddings, at this present moment, in his despair of making people understand; for i doubt, sometimes, whether it is possible for me to make the reader understand the conditions with us in lattimore at the time when poor trescott lay there in his fine house, fighting for life, and for many things more important, and while the wedding preparations were going forward at the general's house. to the steady-going, stationary, passionless community these conditions approach the incomprehensible. no one seemed to doubt the city's future now. sometimes the abnormal basis upon which our great new industries had been established struck the stranger with distrust, if he happened to have the insight to notice it; but the concerns _were there_ most undeniably, and had shifted population in their coming, and were turning out products for the markets of the world. that they had been evolved magically, and set in operation, not by any slow process of meeting a felt want, but for this sole purpose of shifting population, might be, and undoubtedly was, unusual; but given the natural facilities for carrying the business on, and how did this forced genesis adversely affect their prospects? i, for one, could see no reason for apprehension. yet when the story of trescott's maudlin plunging came to our ears, and the effect of his possible failure received consideration, or i thought of the business explosion which would follow any open breach between jim and cornish (though this seemed too remote for serious consideration), i began to ponder on the enormously complex system of credits we had built up. besides the regular line of bonds and mortgages growing out of debts due us on our real-estate sales, and against which we had issued the debentures and the guaranteed rediscounts of the grain belt trust company, the factories, stock yards, terminals, street-car system, and most of our other properties were pretty heavily bonded. some of them were temporarily unproductive, and funds had from time to time to be provided, from sources other than their own earnings, for the payment of their interest-charges. on the whole, however, we had been able to carry the entire line forward from position to position with such success that the people were kept in a fever, and accessions to our population kept pouring in which, of their own force, added fuel to the fire of expectancy. this one thing began to make me uneasy--there was no place to stop. a failure among us would quench this expectancy, and values would no longer increase. and everything was organized on the basis of the continued crescendo. that was the reason why every uplift in prices had been followed by a new and strenuous effort on our part to hoist them still higher. for that reason, we, who had become richer than we had ever hoped to be, kept toiling on to rear to greater and greater heights an edifice which the eternal forces of nature itself clutched, to drag down. i was the first to suggest this feature in conference. the trescott scare had made me more thoughtful. true, outwardly things were more than ever booming. the very signs on the streets spoke of the boom. it was "lumber, coal, and real estate"; "burbank's livery, feed, and sale stable. office of burbank realty co."; or "thronson & larson, grocers. choice lots in thronson's addition." even giddings had platted the "_herald_ addition," and was offering a choice quarter-block as a prize to the person who could guess nearest to the average monthly increase in values in the addition, as shown by the record of sales. real estate appeared as a part of the business of hardware stores and milliners' shops, so that one was constantly reminded of the heterogeneous announcements on the signboard of mr. wegg. but while all this went on, and transactions "in dirt" were larger than ever, one could see indications that there was in them a larger and larger element of credit, and less and less cash. so one day, at a syndicate conference, i sought to ease my mind by asking where this thing was to stop, and when we could hope for a time when the town would not have to be held up by main strength. "why, that's a very remarkable question!" said mr. hinckley. "we surely haven't reached the point where we can think of stopping. why, with the history before us of the cities of america which, without half our natural advantages, have grown to so many times the size of this, i'm surprised that such a thing should be thought of! just think of what chicago was in ' when i came through. a village without a harbor, built along the ditches of a frog-pond! and see it now; see it now!" there was a little quiver in mr. hinckley's voice, a little infirmity of his chin, which told of advancing years. his ideas were becoming more fixed. it was plain that the notion of lattimore's continued and uninterrupted progress was one to which he would cling with the mild and unreasoning stubbornness of gentlemanly senility. but cornish welcomed the discussion with something like eagerness. "i'm glad the matter has come up," said he. "we've had a few good years here; but, in the nature of things, won't the time come when things will be--slower? we've got our first plans pretty well worked out. the mills, factories, and live-stock industries are supporting population, and making tonnage which the railroad is carrying. but what next? we can't expect to build any more railroads soon. no line of less than five hundred miles will do any good, strategically speaking, and sending out stubs just to annex territory for our shippers is too slow and expensive business for this crowd. things are booming along now; but the eastern banks are getting finicky about paper, and--i think things are going to be--slower--and that we ought to act accordingly." there was a long silence, broken only by a dry laugh from hinckley, and the remark that barslow and cornish must be getting dyspeptic from high living. "well," said elkins at last, ignoring hinckley and facing cornish, "get down to brass nails! what policy would you adopt?" "oh, our present policy is all right," answered he of the van dyke beard-- "yes, yes!" interjected hinckley. "my view exactly. a wonderfully successful policy!" "--and," cornish continued, "i would only suggest that we cease spreading out--not cease talking it, but only just sort of stop doing it--and begin to realize more rapidly on our holdings. not so as to break the market, you understand; but so as to keep the demand fairly well satisfied." mr. elkins was slow in replying, and when the reply came it was of the sort which does not answer. "a most important, not to say momentous question," said he. "let's figure the thing over and take it up again soon. we'll not begin to disagree at this late day. mr. hinckley has warned us that he has an engagement in thirty minutes. it seems to me we ought to dispose of the matter of the appropriation for the interest on those belt lines bonds. wade's mash on 'atkins, corning & co.' won't last long in the face of a default." mr. hinckley staid his thirty minutes and withdrew. mr. cornish went to the telephone and ordered his dog-cart. "immediately," he instructed, "over here at the grain belt trust building." "make it in half an hour, can't you, cornish?" said jim. "there are some more things we ought to go over." "say!" shouted cornish into the transmitter. "make that in half an hour instead of at once." he hung up the telephone, and turned to elkins inquiringly. jim was walking up and down on the rug, his hands clasped behind him. "since we've spread out into that string of banks," said he, still keeping up his walk, "and made mr. hinckley the president of each of 'em, he's reverting to his old banker's timidity. which consists, in all cases, in an aversion to any change in conditions. to suggest any change, even from an old, dangerous policy to a new safe one, startles a 'conservative' banker. if we had gone on a little longer with our talk about shutting off steam and taking the nigger off the safety-valve, you'd have seen him scared into a numbness. but, now that the question has been brought up, let's talk it over. what's your notion about it, anyhow, al?" "i'm seeking light," said i. "the people are rushing in, and the town's doing splendidly. but prices, there's no denying it, are beginning to sort of strangle things. they prevent doing, any more, what we did at first. kreuger brothers' failure yesterday was small; but it's a clear case of a retailer's being eaten up with fixed charges--or so macdonald told me this morning; and i know that frontage on main street is demanding fully as much as the traffic will bear. and then our fright over trescott's gambling gave me some bad dreams over our securities. it has bothered me to see how to adjust our affairs to a stationary condition of things; that's all." "of course," said cornish, "we must keep boosting. fortunately society here is now thoroughly organized on the principle of whooping it up for lattimore. i could get up a successful lynching-party any time to attend to the case of any miscreant who should suggest that property is too high, or rents unreasonable, or anything but a steady up-grade before us. but i think we ought to stop buying--except among ourselves, and keep the transfers from falling off--and begin salting down." "if you can suggest any way to do that, and still take care of our paper," said jim, "i shall be with you." "i've never anticipated," said cornish, "that such a mass of business could be carried through without some losses. investors can't expect it." "the first loss in the east through our paper," said jim, "means a taking up of the grain belt securities everywhere, and no market for more. and you know what that spells." "it mustn't be allowed to happen--yet awhile," answered cornish. "as i just now said, we must keep on boosting." "you know where the grain belt debentures and other obligations are mostly held, of course?" asked mr. elkins. "when a bond or mortgage is sold," was the answer, "my interest in it ceases. i conclusively presume that the purchaser himself personally looked to the security, or accepted the guaranty of the negotiating trust company. _caveat emptor_ is my rule." mr. elkins looked out of the window, as if he had forgotten us. "we should push the sale of the lattimore & great western," said he, "and the belt line system." "i concur," said cornish. "our interest in those properties is a two-million-dollar cash item." "it wouldn't be two million cents," said jim, "if our friends on wall street could hear this talk. they'd wait to buy at receiver's sale after some black friday. of course, that's what pendleton and wade have been counting on from the first." "you ought to see halliday and pendleton at once," said i. "yes, i think so, too," he rejoined. "pendleton'll pay us more than our price, rather than see the halliday system get the properties. they're deep ones; but we ought to be able to play them off against each other, so long as we can keep strong at home. i'll begin the flirtation at once." cornish, assuming that jim had fully concurred in his views, bade us a pleasant good-day, and went out. "my boy," said jim, "cheer up. if gloom takes hold of you like this while we're still running before a favoring wind, it'll bother you to keep feeling worse and worse, as you ought, as we approach the real thing. cheer up!" "oh, i'm all right!" said i. "i was just trying to make out cornish's position." "let's make out our own," he replied, "that's the first thing. bear in mind that this is a buccaneering proposition, and you're first mate: remember? well, al, we've had the merriest cruise in the books. if any crew ever had doubloons to throw to the birds, we've had 'em. but, you know, we always draw the line somewhere, and i'm about to ask you to join me in drawing the line, and see just what moral level piracy has risen or sunk to." he still walked back and forth, and, as he spoke of drawing the line, he drew an imaginary one with his fingers on the green baize of the flat-topped desk. "you remember what those fellows, dorr and wickersham, said the other night, about having invested the funds of estates, and savings accounts in our obligations?" he went on. "but i never told you what wickersham said privately to me. the infernal fool has more of our paper than his bank's whole capital stock, with the surplus added, amounts to! and he calls himself a 'conservative new england banker'! it wouldn't be so bad if the states back east weren't infested with the same sort of idiots--i've had hinckley make me a report on it since that night. it means that women and children and sweaty breadwinners have furnished the money for all these things we're so proud of having built, including the mt. desert cottages and the wyoming hunting-lodge. it means that we've got to be able to read our book of the black art backwards as well as forwards, or the powers we've conjured up will tear piecemeal both them and us. god! it makes me crawl to think of what would happen!" he sat down on the flat-topped desk, and i saw the beaded pallor of a fixed and digested anxiety on his brow. he went on, in a lighter way: "these poor people, scattered from the missouri to the atlantic, are our prisoners, al. i think cornish is ready to make them walk the plank. but, al, you know, in our bloodiest days, down on the spanish main, we used to spare the women and children! what do you say now, al?" the way in which he repeated the old nickname had an irresistible appeal in it; but i hope no appeal was needed. i said, and said truly, that i should never consent to any policy which was not mindful of the interests of which he spoke; and that i knew hinckley would be with us. so, if cornish took any other view, there would be three to one against him. "i knew you'd be with me," he continued. "it would have been a sure-enough case of _et tu, brute_, if you hadn't been. but don't let yourself think for a minute that we can't fight this thing to a finish and come off more than conquerors. we'll look back at this talk some time, and laugh at our fears. the troublous times that come every so often are nearer than they were five years ago, but they're some ways off yet, and forewarned is insured." "but the hard times always catch people unawares," said i. "they do," he admitted, "but they never tried to stalk a covey of boom specialists before.... you remember all that rot i used to talk about the mind-force method, and psychological booms? we've been false to that theory, by coming to believe so implicitly in our own preaching. why, al, this work we've begun here has got to go on! it must go on! there mustn't be any collapse or failure. when the hard times come, we must be prepared to go right on through, cutting a little narrower swath, but cutting all the same. stand by the guns with me, and, in spite of all, we'll win, and save lattimore--and spare the captives, too!" there was the fire of unconquerable resolution in his eye, and a resonance in his voice that thrilled me. after all he had done, after the victories we had won under his leadership, the admiration and love i felt for him rose to the idolatry of a soldier for his general, as i saw him stiffening his limbs, knotting his muscles, and, with teeth set and nostrils dilated, rising to the load which seemed falling on him alone. "i'll make the turn with these railroad properties," he went on. "we must make pendleton and halliday bid each other up to our figure. and there'll be no 'salting down' done, either--yet awhile. i hope things won't shrink too much in the washing; but the real-estate hot air of the past few years must cause some trouble when the payments deferred begin to make the heart sick. the trust company will be called on to make good some of its guaranties--and must do it. the banks must be kept strong; and with two millions to sweeten the pot we shall be with 'em to the finish. why, they can't beat us! and don't forget that right now is the most prosperous time lattimore ever saw; and put on a look that will corroborate the statement when you go out of here!" "bravo, bravo!" said a voice from near the door. "i don't understand any of it, but the speech sounded awfully telling! where's papa?" it was antonia, who had come in unobserved. she wore a felt hat with one little feather on it, driving-gloves, and a dark cloth dress. she stood, rosy with driving, her blonde curls clustering in airy confusion about her forehead, a tailor-gowned brunhilde. "why, hello, antonia!" said jim. "he went away some time ago. wasn't that a corking good speech? ah! you never know the value of an old friend until you use him as audience at the dress rehearsal of a speech! pacers or trotters?" "pacers," said she, "storm and the friar." "if you'll let me drive," he stipulated, "i'd like to go home with you." "nobody but myself," said she, "ever drives this team. you'd spoil the friar's temper with that unyielding wrist of yours; but if you are good, you may hold the ends of the lines, and say 'dap!' occasionally." and down to the street we went together, our cares dismissed. jim handed antonia into the trap, and they spun away toward lynhurst, apparently the happiest people in lattimore. chapter xviii. the going away of laura and clifford, and the departure of mr. trescott. "thet little quirly thing there," said mr. trescott, spreading a map out on my library table and pointing with his trembling and knobby forefinger, "is wolf nose crick. it runs into the cheyenne, down about there, an' 's got worlds o' water fer any sized herds, an' carries yeh back from the river fer twenty-five miles. there's a big spring at the head of it, where the ranch buildin's is; an' there's a clump o' timber there--box elders an' cottonwoods, y' know. now see the advantage i'll have. other herds'll hev to traipse back an' forth from grass to water an' from water to grass, a-runnin' theirselves poor; an' all the time i'll hev livin' water right in the middle o' my range." his wife and daughter had carefully nursed him through the fever, as dr. aylesbury called it, and for two weeks mr. trescott was seen by no one else. then from our windows alice and i could see him about his grounds, at work amongst his shrubbery, or busying himself with his horses and carriages. josie had transformed herself into a woman of business, and every day she went to her father's office, opened his mail, and held business consultations. whenever it was necessary for papers to be executed, josie went with the lawyer and notary to the trescott home for the signing. the trescott and tolliver business brought her into daily contact with the captain. he used to open the doors between their offices, and have the mail sorted for josie when she came in. there was something of homage in the manner in which he received her into the office, and laid matters of business before her. it was something larger and more expansive than can be denoted by the word courtesy or politeness. "captain," she would say, with the half-amused smile with which she always rewarded him, "here is this notice from the grain belt trust company about the interest on twenty-five thousand dollars of bonds which they have advanced to us. will you please explain it?" "sutt'nly, madam, sutt'nly," replied he, using a form of address which he adopted the first time she appeared as bill's representative in the business, and which he never cheapened by use elsewhere. "those bonds ah debentures, which--" "but what _are_ debentures, captain?" she inquired. "pahdon me, my deah lady," said he, "fo' not explaining that at fuhst! those ah the debentures of the trescott development company, fawmed to build up trescott's addition. we sold those lands on credit, except fo' a cash payment of one foath the purchase-price. this brought to us, as you can see, madam, a lahge amount of notes, secured by fuhst mortgages on the trescott's addition properties. these notes and mortgages we deposited with the grain belt trust company, and issued against them the bonds of the trescott development company--debentures--and the g. b. t. people floated these bonds in the east and elsewhah. this interest mattah was an ovahsight; i should have looked out fo' it, and not put the g. b. t. to the trouble of advancing it; but as we have this mawnin' on deposit with them several thousand dollahs from the sale of the tolliver's subdivision papah, the thing becomes a mattah of no impo'tance whatevah!" "but," went on josie, "how shall we be able to pay the next installment of interest, and the principal, when it falls due?" "amply provided foh, my deah madam," said the captain, waving his arm; "the defe'ed payments and the interest on them will create an ample sinking fund!" "but if they don't?" she inquired. "that such a contingency can possibly arise, madam," said the captain in his most impressive orotund, and with his hand thrust into the bosom of his prince albert coat, "is something which my loyalty to lattimore, my faith in my fellow citizens, my confidence in mr. elkins and mr. barslow, and my regahd fo' my own honah, pledged as it is to those to whom i have sold these properties on the representations i have made as to the prospects of the city, will not puhmit me to admit!" this seemed to him entirely conclusive, and cut off the investigation. conversation like this, in which josie questioned the captain and seemed ever convinced by his answers, gave her high rank in the captain's estimation. "like most ladies," said he, "miss trescott is a little inclined to ovah-conservatism; but unlike most people of both sexes, she is quite able to grasp the lahgest views when explained to huh, and huh mental processes ah unerring. i have nevah failed to make the most complicated situation cleah to huh--nevah!" and all this time mr. trescott was safeguarded at home, looking after his horses, carriages, and grounds, and at last permitted to come over to our house and pass the evening with me occasionally. it was on one of these visits that he spread out the map on the table and explained to me the advantages of his ranch on wolf nose creek. the very thought of the open range and the roaming herds seemed to strengthen him. "you talk," said i, "as if it were all settled. are you really going out there?" "wal," said he, after some hesitation, "it kind o' makes me feel good to lay plans f'r goin'. i've made the deal with aleck macdonald f'r the water front--it's a good spec if i never go near it--an' i guess i'll send a bunch o' steers out to please josie an' her ma. they're purtendin' to be stuck on goin', an' i've made the bargain to pacify 'em; but, say, do you know what kind of a place it is out on one o' them ranches?" "in a general way, yes," said i. "w'l, a general way wun't do," said he. "you've got to git right down to p'ticklers t' know about it, so's to know. it's seventy-five miles from a post-office an' twenty-five to the nearest house. how would you like to hev a girl o' yourn thet you'd sent t' chicago an' new york and the ol' country, an' spent all colors o' money on so's t' give her all the chanst in the world, go out to a place like that to spend her life?" "i don't know," said i, for i was in doubt; "it might be all right." "you wouldn't say that if it was up to you to decide the thing," said he. "w'y it would mean that this girl o' mine, that's fit for to be--wal, you know josie--would hev to leave this home we've built--that she's built--here, an' go out where there hain't nobody to be seen from week's end to week's end but cowboys, an' once in a while one o' the greasy women o' the dugouts. do you know what happens to the nicest girls when they don't see the right sort o' men--at all, y' know?" i nodded. i knew what he meant. then i shook my head in denial of the danger. "i don't b'lieve it nuther," said he; "but is it any cinch, now? an' anyhow, she'll be where she wun't ever hear a bit o' music, 'r see a picter, 'r see a friend. she'll swelter in the burnin' sun an' parch in the hot winds in the summer, an' in the winter she'll be shet in by blizzards an' cold weather. she'll see nothin' but kioats, prairie-dogs, sage-brush, an' cactus. an' what fer! jest for nothin' but me! to git me away from things she's afraid've got more of a pull with me than what she's got. an' i say, by the livin' lord, i'll go under before i'll give up, an' say i've got as fur down as that!" it is something rending and tearing to a man like bill, totally unaccustomed to the expression of sentiment, to give utterance to such depths of feeling. weak and trembling as he was, the sight of his agitation was painful. i hastened to say to him that i hoped there was no necessity for such a step as the one he so strongly deprecated. "i d' know," said he dubiously. "i thought one while that i'd never want to go near town, 'r touch the stuff agin. but i'll tell yeh something that happened yisterday!" he drew up his chair and looked behind him like a child preparing to relate some fearsome tale of goblin or fiend, and went on: "josie had the team hitched up to go out ridin', an' i druv around the block to git to the front step. an' somethin' seemed to pull the nigh line when i got to the cawner! it wa'n't that i wanted to go--and don't you say anything about this thing, mr. barslow; but somethin' seemed to pull the nigh line an' turn me toward main street; an' fust thing i knew, i was a-drivin' hell-bent for o'brien's place! somethin' was a-whisperin' to me, 'go down an' see the boys, an' show 'em that yeh can drink 'r let it alone, jest as yeh see fit!' and the thought come over me o' josie a-standin' there at the gate waitin' f'r me, an' i set my teeth, an' jerked the hosses' heads around, an' like to upset the buggy a-turnin'. 'you look pale, pa,' says josie. 'maybe we'd better not go.' 'no,' says i, 'i'm all right.' but what ... gits me ... is thinkin' that, if i'll be hauled around like that when i'm two miles away, how long would i last ... if onst i was to git right down in the midst of it!" i could not endure the subject any longer; it was so unutterably fearful to see him making this despairing struggle against the foe so strongly lodged within his citadel. i talked to him of old times and places known to us both, and incidentally called to his mind instances of the recovery of men afflicted as he was. soon josie came after him, and jim dropped in, as he was quite in the habit of doing, making one of those casual and informal little companies which constituted a most distinctive feature of life in our compact little belgravia. josie insisted that life in the cow country was what she had been longing for. she had never shot any one, and had never painted a cowboy, an indian, or a coyote--things she had always longed to do. "you must take me out there, pa," said she. "it's the only way to utilize the capital we've foolishly tied up in the department of the fine arts!" "i reckon we'll hev to do it, then, little gal," said bill. "my mind," said jim, "is divided between your place up on the headwaters of bitter creek and paris. paris seems to promise pretty well, when this fitful fever of business is over and we've cleaned up the mill run." art, he went on, seemed to be a career for which he was really fitted. in the foreground, as a cowboy, or in the middle distance, in his proper person as a tenderfoot, it seemed as if there was a vocation for him. josie made no reply to this, and jim went away downcast. the addison-giddings wedding drew on out of the future, and seemed to loom portentously like doom for the devoted clifford. it may have suggested itself to the reader that mr. giddings was an abnormally timid lover. the eternal feminine at this time seemed personified in laura, and worked upon him like an obsession. i have never seen a case quite like his. the manner in which the marriage was regarded, and the extent to which it was discussed, may have had something to do with this. the boom period anywhere is essentially an era in which public events dominate those of a private character, and publicity and promotion, hand in hand, occupy the center of the stage. giddings, as editor and proprietor of the _herald_, was one of the actors on whom the lime-light was pretty constantly focussed. miss addison, belonging to the lattimore family, and prominent in good works, was more widely known than he among lattimoreans of the old days, sometimes referred to by mr. elkins as the trilobites, who constituted a sort of ancient and exclusive caste among us, priding themselves on having become rich by the only dignified and purely automatic mode, that of sitting heroically still, and allowing their lands to rise in value. these regarded laura as one of themselves, and her marriage as a sacrament of no ordinary character. giddings, on the other hand, as the type of the new crowd who had done such wonders, and as the embodiment of its spirit, was dimly sensed by all classes as a sort of hero of obscure origin, who by strong blows had hewed his way to the possession of a princess of the blood. so the interest was really absorbing. even the _herald's_ rival, the _evening times_, dropped for a time the normal acrimony of its references to the _herald_, and sent a reporter to make a laudatory write-up of the wedding. on the night before the event, deep in the evening, giddings and a bibulous friend insisted on having refreshments served to them in the parlor of the clubhouse. this was a violation of rules. moreover, they had involuntarily assumed sitting postures on the carpet, rendering waiting upon them a breach of decorum as well. at least this was the view of pearson, who was now attached to the club. "you must excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "but ah'm bound to obey rules." "bring us," said giddings, "two cocktails." "can't do it, sah," said pearson, "not hyah, sah!" "bring us paper to write resignations on!" said giddings. "we won't belong to a club where we are bullied by niggers." pearson brought the paper. "they's no rule, suh," said he, "again' suhvin' resignation papah anywhah in the house. but let me say, mistah giddings, that ah wouldn't be hasty: it's a heap hahder to get inter this club now than what it was when you-all come in!" this suggestion of pearson's was in every one's mouth as the most amusing story of the time. even giddings laughed about it. but all his laughter was hollow. some bets were offered that one of two things would happen on the wedding-day: either giddings (who had formerly been of abstemious habits) would overdo the attempt to nerve himself up to the occasion and go into a vinous collapse, or he would stay sober and take to his heels. thus, in fear and trembling, did the inexplicable disciple of iago approach his happiness; but, like most soldiers, when the battle was actually on, he went to the fighting-line dazed into bravery. it was quite a spectacular affair. the church was a floral grotto, and there were, in great abundance, the adjuncts of ribbon barriers, special electric illuminations, special music, full ritual, ushers, bridesmaids, and millinery. antonia was chief bridesmaid, and cornish best man. the severe conformity to vogue, and preservation of good form, were generally attributed to his management. it was a great success. there was an elaborate supper, of which giddings partook in a manner which tended to prove that his sense of taste was still in his possession, whatever may have been the case with his other senses. josie was there, and jim was her shadow. she was a little pale, but not at all sad; her figure, which had within the past year or so acquired something of the wealth commonly conceded to matronliness, had waned to the slenderness of the day i first saw her in the art-gallery, but now, as then, she was slim, not thin. to two, at least, she was a vision of delight, as one might well see by the look of adoration which jim poured into her eyes from time to time, and the hungry gaze with which cornish took in the ruddy halo of her hair, the pale and intellectual face beneath it, and the sensuous curves of the compact little form. for my own part, my vote was for antonia, for the belle of the gathering; but she sailed through the evening, "like some full-breasted swan," accepting no homage except the slavish devotion of cecil, whose constant offering of his neck to her tread gave him recognition as entitled to the reward of those who are permitted only to stand and wait. mr. elkins had furnished a special train over the l. & g. w. to make the run with the bridal party to elkins junction, connecting there with the east-bound limited on the pendleton line, thence direct to elysium. laura, rosy as a bride should be, and actually attractive to me for the first time in her life, sat in her traveling-dress trying to look matter-of-fact, and discussing time-tables with her bridegroom, who seemed to find less and less of dream and more of the actual in the situation,--calm returning with the cutaway. cecil and the coterie of gilded youth who followed him did their share to bring giddings back to earth by a series of practical jokes, hackneyed, but ever fresh. the largest trunk, after it reached the platform, blossomed out in a sign reading: "the property of the bride and groom. you can identify the owners by that absorbed expression!" divers revelatory incidents were arranged to eventuate on the limited train. precipitation of rice was produced, in modes known to sleight-of-hand only. so much of this occurred that captain tolliver showed, by a stately refusal to see the joke, his disapproval of it--a feeling which he expressed in an aside to me. "hoss-play of this so't, suh," said he, "ought not to be tolerated among civilized people, and i believe is not! in the state of society in which i was reahed such niggah-shines would mean pistols at ten paces, within fo'ty-eight houahs, with the lady's neahest male relative! and propahly so, too, suh; quite propahly!" "shall we go to the train, albert?" said alice, as the party made ready to go. "no," said i, "unless you particularly wish it; we shall go home." "mr. barslow," said one of the maids, "you are wanted at the telephone." "is this you, al?" said jim's voice over the wire. "i'm up here at josie's, and i am afraid there's trouble with her father. when we got here we found him gone. hadn't you better go out and look around for him?" "have you any idea where i'm likely to find him?" i asked. i saw at once the significance of bill's absence. he had taken advantage of the fact of his wife and daughter's going to the wedding, and had yielded to the thing which drew him away from them. "try the club, and then o'brien's," answered jim. "if you don't find him in one place or the other, call me up over the 'phone. call me up anyhow; i'll wait here." the _times_ man heard my end of the conversation, saw me hastily give alice word as to the errand which kept me from going home with her, observed my preparations for leaving the company, and, scenting news, fell in with me as i was walking toward the club. "any story in this, mr. barslow?" he asked. "oh, is that you, watson?" i answered. "i was going on an errand which concerns myself. i was going alone." "if you're looking for any one," he said, trotting along beside me, "i can find him a good deal quicker than you can, probably. and if there's news in it, i'll get it anyhow; and i'll naturally know it more from your standpoint, and look at it more as you do, if we go together. don't you think so?" "see here, watson," said i, "you may help if you wish. but if you print a word without my consent, i can and will scoop the _times_ every day, from this on, with every item of business news coming through our office. do you understand, and do you promise?" "why, certainly," said he. "you've got the thing in your own hands. what is it, anyhow?" i told him, and found that trescott's dipsomania was as well known to him as myself. "he's been throwing money to the fowls for a year or two," he remarked. "it's better than two to one you don't find him at the club: the atmosphere won't be congenial for him there." at the club we found watson's forecast verified. at o'brien's our knocking on the door aroused a sleepy bartender, who told us that no one was there, but refused to let us in. watson called him aside, and they talked together for a few minutes. "all right," said the reporter, turning away from him, "much obliged, hank; i believe you've struck it." watson was leader now, and i followed him toward front street, near the river. he said that hank, the barkeeper, had told him that trescott had been in his saloon about nine o'clock, drinking heavily; and from the company he was in, it was to be suspected that he would be steered into a joint down on the river front. we passed through an alley, and down a back basement stairway, came to a door, on which watson confidently knocked, and which was opened by a negro who let us in as soon as he saw the reporter. the air was sickening with an odor which i then perceived for the first time, and which watson called the dope smell. there was an indefinable horror about the place, which so repelled me that nothing but my obligation could have held me there. the lights were dim, and at first i could see nothing more than that the sides of the room were divided into compartments by dull-colored draperies, in a manner suggesting the sections of a sleeping-car. there were sounds of dreadful breathings and inarticulate voices, and over all that sickening smell. i saw, flung aimlessly from the crepuscular and curtained recesses, here the hairy brawn of a man's arm, there a woman's leg in scarlet silk stocking, the foot half withdrawn from a red slipper with a high french heel. the gate of a hundred sorrows had opened for me, and i stood as if gazing, with eyes freshly unsealed to its horrors, into some dim inferno, sibilant with hisses, and enwrapped in indeterminate dragon-folds--and i in quest of a lost soul. "he wouldn't go with his pal, boss," i heard the negro say. "ah tried to send him home, but he said he had some medicine to take, an' he 'nsisted on stayin'." as he ceased to speak, i knew that watson had been interrogating him, and that he was referring to the man we sought. "show me where he is," i commanded. "yes, boss! right hyah, sah!" in an inner room, on a bed, not a pallet like those in the first chamber, was trescott, his head lying peacefully on a pillow, his hands clasped across his chest. somehow, i was not surprised to see no evidence of life, no rise and fall of the breast, no sound of breathing. but watson started forward in amazement, laid his hand for a moment on the pallid forehead, lifted for an instant and then dropped the inert hand, turned and looked fixedly in my face, and whispered, "my god! he's dead!" as if at some great distance, i heard the negro saying, "he done said he hed ter tek some medicine, boss. ah hopes you-all won't make no trouble foh me, boss--!" "send for a doctor!" said i. "telephone mr. elkins, at trescott's home!" watson darted out, and for an eternity, as it seemed to me, i stood there alone. there was a scurrying of the vermin in the place to snatch up a few valuables and flee, as if they had been the crawling things under some soon-to-be-lifted stone, to whom light was a calamity. i was left with the stillness before me, and the dreadful breathings and inarticulate voices outside. then came the clang and rattle of ambulance and patrol, and in came a policeman or two, a physician, a _herald_ man and watson, who was bitterly complaining of bill for having had the bad taste to die on the morning paper's time. and soon came jim, in a carriage, whirled along the street like a racing chariot--with whom i rode home, silent, save for answering his questions. now the wife, gazing out of her door, saw in the street the something for which she had peered past me the other night. the men carried it in at the door, and laid it on the divan. josie, her arms and shoulders still bare in the dress she had worn to the wedding, broke away from cornish, who was bending over her and saying things to comfort her, and swept down the hall to the divan where bill lay, white and still, and clothed with the mystic majesty of death. the shimmering silk and lace of her gown lay all along the rug and over the divan, like drapery thrown there to conceal what lay before us. she threw her arms across the still breast, and her head went down on his. "oh, pa! oh, pa!" she moaned, "you never did any one any harm!... you were always good and kind!... and always loving and forgiving.... and why should they come to you, poor pa ... and take you from the things you loved ... and ... murder you ... like this!" jim fell back, as if staggering from a blow. cornish came forward, and offered to raise up the stricken girl, whose eyes shone in her grief like the eyes of insanity. alice stepped before cornish, raised josie up, and supported her from the room. * * * * * again it was morning, when we--alice, jim, and i--sat face to face in our home. an untasted breakfast was spread before us. jim's eyes were on the cloth, and nothing served to rouse him. i knew that the blow from which he had staggered still benumbed his faculties. "come," said i, "we shall need your best thought down at the grain belt building in a couple of hours. this brings things to a crisis. we shall have a terrible dilemma to face, it's likely. eat and be ready to face it!" "god!" said he, "it's the old tale over again, al: throw the dead and wounded overboard to clear the decks, and on with the fight!" chapter xix. in which events resume their usual course--at a somewhat accelerated pace. the death of mr. trescott was treated with that consideration which the affairs of the locally prominent always receive in towns where local papers are in close financial touch with the circle affected. nothing was said of suicide, or of the place where the body was found; and in fact i doubt if the family ever knew the real facts; but the property matters were looked upon as a legitimate subject for comment. "yesterday," said, in due time, the _herald_, "the trescott estate passed into the hands of will lattimore, as administrator. he was appointed upon the petition of martha d. trescott, the widow. his bond, in the sum of $ , , was signed by james r. elkins, albert f. barslow, j. bedford cornish, and marion tolliver, as sureties, and is said to be the largest in amount ever filed in our local probate court. "mr. lattimore is non-committal as to the value of the estate. the bond is not to be taken as altogether indicative of this value, as additional bonds may be called for at any time, and the individual responsibility of the administrator is very large. he will at once enter upon the work of settling up the estate, receiving and filing claims, and preparing his report. he estimates the time necessary to a full understanding of the extent and condition of his trust at weeks and even months. "the petition states that the deceased died intestate, leaving surviving him the petitioner and an only child, a daughter, josephine. as miss trescott has attained her majority, she will at once come into the possession of the greater part of this estate, becoming thereby the richest heiress in this part of the west. this fact of itself would render her an interesting person, an interest to which her charming personality adds zest. she is a very beautiful girl, petite in figure, with splendid brown hair and eyes. she is possessed of a strong individuality, has had the advantages of the best american and continental schools, and is said to be an artist of much ability. mrs. trescott comes of the dana family, prominent in central illinois from the earliest settlement of the state. "president elkins, of the l. & g. w., who, perhaps, knows more than any other person as to the situation and value of the various trescott properties, could not be seen last night. he went to chicago on wednesday, and yesterday wired his partner, mr. barslow, that business had called him on to new york, where he would remain for some time." in another column of the same issue was a double-leaded news-story, based on certain rumors that jim's trip to new york was taken for the purpose of financing extensions of the l. & g. w. which would develop it into a system of more than a thousand miles of line. "their past successes have shown," said the _herald_ in editorial comment on this, "that mr. elkins and his associates are resourceful enough to bring such an undertaking, gigantic as it is, quite within their abilities. the world has not seen the best that is in the power of this most remarkable group of men to accomplish. lattimore, already a young giantess in stature and strength, has not begun to grow, in comparison with what is in the future for her, if she is to be made the center of such a vast railway system as is outlined in the news item referred to." from which one gathers that the young men left by mr. giddings in charge of his paper were entirely competent to carry forward his policy. jim had gone to chicago to see halliday, hoping to rouse in him an interest in the belt line and l. & g. w. properties; but on arriving there had telegraphed to me that he must go to new york. this message was followed by a letter of explanation and instructions. "halliday spends a good deal of his time in new york now," the letter read, "and is there at present. his understudy here advised me to go on east. i should rather see him there than here, on account of the greater likelihood that pendleton may detect us: so i'm going. i shall stay as long as i can do any good by it. lattimore won't get the condition of the estate worked out for a month, and until we know about that, there won't anything come up of the first magnitude, and even if there should, you can handle it. i don't really expect to come back with the two million dollars for the l. & g. w., but i do hope to have it in sight! "in all your prayers let me be remembered; 'if it don't do no good, it won't do no harm,' and i'll need all the help i can get. i'm going where the lobster à la newburg and the welsh rabbit hunt in couples in the interest of the sure-thing game; where the bird-and-bottle combine is the stalking-horse for the frame-up; and where the flim-flam (i use the word on the authority of beaumont, fletcher & giddings) has its natural habitat. i go to foster the entente cordiale between our friends pendleton and halliday into what i may term a mutual cross-lift, of which we shall be the beneficiaries--in trust, however, for the use and behoof of the captives below decks. "giddings and laura are here. i had them out to a box party last night. they are most insufferably happy. clifford is not sane yet, but is rallying. he is rallying considerably; for he spoke of plans for pushing the _herald_ addition harder than ever when he gets home. and you know such a thing as business has never entered his mind for six months--unless it was business to write that 'apostrophe to the heart,' which he called a poem, and which, i don't mind admitting now, i hired his foreman to pi after the copy was lost. "keep everything as near ship-shape as you can. watch the papers, or they may do us more harm in a single fool story than can be remedied by wise counter-mendacity in a year. especially watch the _times_, although there's mighty little choice between them. you and alice ought to spend as much time at the trescotts' as you can spare. you'll hear from me almost daily. wire anything of importance fully. keep the l. & g. w. extension story before the people; it may make some impression even in the east, but it's sure to do good in the local fake market. don't miss a chance to jolly our eastern banks. i should declare a dividend--say %--on cement stock. at atlas power company meeting ask cornish to move passing earnings to surplus in lieu of dividend, on the theory of building new factories--anyhow, consult with the fellows about it: that money will be handy to have in the treasury before the year is out, unless i am mistaken. sorry i can't be at these meetings. will be back for those of rapid transit and belt line companies. "yours, "jim. "p. s.--coming in, i saw a group of children dancing on a bridge, close to a schoolhouse, down near the mississippi. i guess no one but myself knew what they were doing; but i recognized our old 'weevilly wheat' dance. i could imagine the ancient scotch air, which the noise of the train kept me from hearing, and the old words you and i used to sing, dancing on the elk creek bridge: "'we want no more of your weevilly wheat, we want no more your barley; but we want some of your good old wheat, to make a cake for charley!' "you remember it all! how we used to swing the little girls around, and when we remembered it afterwards, how we would float off into realms of blissful companionship with freckled, short-skirted, bare-legged angels! things were simpler then, al, weren't they? and to emphasize that fact, my mind ran along the trail of the 'weevilly wheat' into the domain of tickers, margins, puts and calls, and all the cussedness of the board of trade, and came bump against poor bill's bucket-shop deals, and settled down to the chronic wonder as to just how badly crippled he was when he died. if will gets it figured out soon, at all accurately, wire me. "j." the wedding tour came to an end, and the bride and groom returned long before mr. elkins did. giddings dropped into my office the day after their return, and, quite in his old way, began to discuss affairs in general. "i'm going to close out the _herald_ addition," said he. "real estate and newspaper work don't mix, and i shall unload the real estate. what do you say to an auction?" "how can you be sure of anything like an adequate scale of prices?" said i; "and won't you demoralize things?" "it'll strengthen prices," he replied, "the way i'll manage it. this is the age of the sensational--the yellow--and you people haven't been yellow enough in your methods of selling dirt. if you say sensationalism is immoral, i won't dispute it, but just simply ask how the fact happens to be material?" i saw that he was going out of his way to say this, and avoided discussion by asking him to particularize as to his methods. "we shall pursue a progressively startling course of advertising, to the end that the interest shall just miss acute mania. i'll have the best auctioneer in the world. on the day of the auction we'll have a series of doings which will leave the people absolutely no way out of buying. we'll have a scale of upset prices which will prevent loss. why, i'll make such a killing as never was known outside of the fifteen decisive battles. i sha'n't seem to do all this personally. i shall turn the work over to tolliver; but i'll be the power behind the movement. the gestures and stage business will be those of esau, but the word-painting will be that of jacob." "well," said i, "i see nothing wrong about your plan; and it may be practicable." "there being nothing wrong about it is no objection from my standpoint," said he. "in fact, i think i prefer to have it morally right rather than otherwise, other things being equal, you know. as for its practicability, you watch the captain, and you'll see!" this talk with giddings convinced me that he was entirely himself again; and also that the boom was going on apace. it had now long reached the stage where the efforts of our syndicate were reinforced by those of hundreds of men, who, following the lines of their own interests, were powerfully and effectively striving to accomplish the same ends. i pointed this out in a letter to mr. elkins in new york. "i am glad to note," said he in reply, "that affairs are going on so cheerfully at home. don't imagine, however, that because a horde of volunteers (most of them nine-spots) have taken hold, our old guard is of any less importance. do you remember what a prince rupert's drop is? i absolutely know you don't, and to save you the trouble of looking it up, i'll explain that it is a glass pollywog which holds together all right until you snap off the tip of its tail. then a job lot of molecular stresses are thrown out of balance, and the thing develops the surprising faculty of flying into innumerable fragments, with a very pleasing explosion. whether the name is a tribute of prince rupert's propensity to fly off the handle, or whether he discovered the drop, or first noted its peculiarities, i leave for the historian of the cromwellian epoch to decide. the point i make is this. our syndicate is the tail of the lattimore rupert's drop; and the grain belt trust co. is the very slenderest and thinnest tip of the pollywog's propeller. hence the writer's tendency to count the strokes of the clock these nights." dating from the night of trescott's death, and therefore covering the period of jim's absence, i could not fail to notice the renewed ardor with which cornish devoted himself to the trescott family. alice and i, on our frequent visits, found him at their home so much that i was forced to the conclusion that he must have had some encouragement. during this period of their mourning his treatment of both mother and daughter was at once so solicitously friendly, and so delicate, that no one in their place could have failed to feel a sense of obligation. he sent flowers to mrs. trescott, and found interesting things in books and magazines for josie. having known him as a somewhat cold and formal man, mrs. trescott was greatly pleased with this new view of his character. he diverted her mind, and relieved the monotony of her grief. cornish was a diplomat (otherwise jim would have had no use for him in the first place), and he skilfully chose this sad and tender moment to bring about a closer intimacy than had existed between him and the afflicted family. it was clearly no affair of mine. nevertheless, after several experiences in finding cornish talking with josie by the trescott grate, i considered jim's interests menaced. "well," said alice, when i mentioned this feeling, "mr. cornish is certainly a desirable match, and it can scarcely be expected that josie will remain permanently unattached." there was a little resentment in her voice, for which i could see no reason, and therefore protested that, under all circumstances, it was scarcely fair to blame me for the lady's unappropriated state. "under other conditions," said i, "i assure you that i should not permit such an anomaly to exist--if i could help it." the incident was then declared closed. during this absence of jim's, which, i think, was the real cause of alice's displeasure, the _herald_ addition sale went forward, with all the "yellow" features which the minds of giddings and tolliver could invent. it began with flaring advertisements in both papers. then, on a certain day, the sale was declared open, and every bill-board and fence bore posters puffing it. a great screen was built on a vacant lot on main street, and across the street was placed, every night, the biggest magic lantern procurable, from which pictures of all sorts were projected on the screen, interlarded with which were statements of the _herald_ addition sales for the day, and quotations showing the advance in prices since yesterday. and at all times the coming auction was cried abroad, until the interest grew to something wonderful. every farmer and country merchant within a hundred miles of the city was talking of it. tolliver was in his highest feather. on the day of the auction he secured excursion rates on all of the railroads, and made it a holiday. porter's great military band, then touring the country, was secured for the afternoon and evening. thousands of people came in on the excursions and it seemed like a carnival. out at the piece of land platted as the _herald_ addition, whither people were conveyed in street-cars and carriages during the long afternoon the great band played about the stands erected for the auctioneer, who went from stand to stand, crying off the lots, the precise location of the particular parcel at any moment under the hammer being indicated by the display of a flag, held high by two strong fellows, who lowered the banner and walked to another site in obedience to signals wigwagged by the enthusiastic captain. the throng bid excitedly, and the clerks who made out the papers worked desperately to keep up with the demands for deeds. it was clear that the sale was a success. as the sun sank, handbills were scattered informing the crowd that in the evening tolliver & company, as a slight evidence of their appreciation of the splendid business of the day, would throw open to their friends the new cornish opera house, where porter's celebrated band would give its regular high-class concert. tolliver & company, the bill went on, took pleasure in further informing the public that, in view of the great success of the day's sale, and the very small amount to which their holdings in the _herald_ addition were reduced, the remainder of this choice piece of property would be sold from the stage to the highest bidder, absolutely without any reservation or restriction as to the price! i had received a telegram from jim saying that he would return on a train arriving that evening, and asking that cornish, hinckley, and lattimore be at the office to meet him. i was on the street early in the evening, looking with wonder at the crowds making merry after the dizzy day of speculative delirium. at the opera house, filled to overflowing with men admitted on tickets, the great band was discoursing its music, in alternation with the insinuating oratory of the auctioneer, under whose skilful management the odds and ends of the _herald_ addition were changing owners at a rate which was simply bewildering. "don't you see," said giddings delightedly, "that this is the only way to sell town lots?" jim came into the office, fresh and buoyant after his long trip, his laugh as hearty and mirth-provoking as ever. after shaking hands with all, he threw himself into his own chair. "boys," said he, "i feel like a mouse just returning from a visit to a cat convention. but what's this crowd for? it's nearly as bad as broadway." we explained what giddings and tolliver had been doing. "but," said he, "do you mean to tell me that he's sold that addition to this crowd of reubs?" "he most certainly has," said cornish. "well, fellows," replied jim, "put away the accounts of this as curiosities! you'll have some difficulty in making posterity believe that there was ever a time or place where town lots were sold with magic lanterns and a brass band! and don't advertise it too much with dorr, wickersham and those fellows. they think us a little crazy now. but a brass band! that comes pretty near being the limit." "gentlemen," said mr. lattimore, "i shall have to leave you soon; and will you kindly make use of me as soon as you conveniently can, and let me go?" "have you got the condition of the trescott estate figured out?" said mr. elkins. "yes," said the lawyer. we all leaned forward in absorbed interest; for this was news. "have you told these gentlemen?" jim went on. "i have told no one." "please give us your conclusions." "gentlemen," said mr. lattimore, "i am sorry to report that the trescott estate is absolutely insolvent! it lacks a hundred thousand dollars of being worth anything!" there was a silence for some moments. "my god!" said hinckley, "and our trust company is on all that paper of trescott's scattered over the east!" "what's become of the money he got on all his sales?" asked jim. "from the looks of the check-stubs, and other indications," said mr. lattimore, "i should say the most of it went into board of trade deals." cornish was swearing in a repressed way, and above his black beard his face was pale. elkins sat drumming idly on the desk with his fingers. "gentlemen," said he, "i take it to be conceded that unless the trescott paper is cared for, things will go to pieces here. that's the same as saying that it must be taken up at all hazards." "not exactly," said cornish, "at _all_ hazards." "well," said jim, "it amounts to that. has any one any suggestions as to the course to be followed?" mr. cornish asked whether it would not be best to take time, allow the probate proceedings to drag along, and see what would turn up. "but the trust company's guaranties," said mr. hinckley, with a banker's scent for the complications of commercial paper, "must be made good on presentation, or it may as well close its doors." "the thing won't 'drag along' successfully," said jim. "have you a schedule of the assets?" "yes," said mr. lattimore. "the life-insurance money and the home are exempt from liability for debts, and i've left them out; but the other properties you'll find listed here." and he threw down on the desk a folded document in a legal wrapper. "the family," said jim gravely, "must be told of the condition of things. it is a hard thing to do, but it must be done. then conveyances must be obtained of all the property, subject to debts; and we must take the property and pay the debts. that also will be a hard thing to do--in several ways; but it must be done. it must be done--do you all agree?" "let me first ask," said mr. cornish, turning to mr. hinckley, "how long would it be before there would have to be trouble on this paper?" "it couldn't possibly be postponed more than sixty days," was the answer. "is there any prospect," cornish went on, addressing mr. elkins, "of closing out the railway properties within sixty days?" "a prospect, yes," said jim. "anything like a certainty?" "no, not in sixty days." "then," said cornish reluctantly, "there seems to be no way out of it, and i agree. but i feel as if i were being held up, and i assent on this ground only: that halliday and pendleton will never deal on equal terms with a set of financial cripples, and that any trouble here will seal the fate of the railway transaction. but, lest this be taken as a precedent, i wish it to be understood that i'm not jeopardizing my fortune, or any part of it, out of any sentimental consideration for these supposed claims of any one who holds lattimore paper, in the east or elsewhere!" jim sat drumming on the desk. "as we are all agreed on what to do," said he drawlingly, "we can skip the question why we do it. prepare the necessary papers, mr. lattimore. and perhaps you are the proper person to apprise the family as to the true condition of things. we'll have to get together to-morrow and begin to dig for the funds. i think we can do no more to-night." we walked down the street and dropped into the opera house in time to hear the grand finale of the last piece by the band. as the great outburst of music died away, captain tolliver radiantly stepped to the footlights, dividing the applause with the musicians. "ladies and gentlemen," said he, "puhmit me to say, in bidding you-all good-night, that i congratulate the republic on the possession of a citizenship so awake to theiah true interests as you have shown you'selves to-day! i congratulate the puhchasers of propahty in the _herald_ addition upon the bahgains they have secuahed. only five minutes' walk from the cyahs, and well within the three-mile limit, the time must soon come when these lots will be covahed with the mansions of ouah richah citizens. even since the sales of this afternoon, i am infawmed that many of the pieces have been resold at an advance, netting the puhchasers a nice profit without putting up a cent. upon all this i congratulate you. lattimore, ladies and gentlemen, has nevah been cuhsed by a boom, and i pray god she nevah may! this rathah brisk growth of ouahs, based as it is on crying needs of ouah trade territory, is really unaccountably slow, all things considered. but i may say right hyah that things ah known to be in sto' foh us which will soon give ouah city an impetus which will cyahy us fo'ward by leaps and bounds--by leaps and bounds, ladies and gentlemen--to that highah and still mo' commandin' place in the galaxy of american cities which is ouahs by right! and now as you-all take youah leave, i propose that we rise and give three cheers fo' lattimore and prosperity." the cheers were given thunderously, and the crowd bustled out, filling the street. "well, wouldn't that jar you!" said jim. "this is a case of 'gaze first upon this picture, then on that' sure enough, isn't it, al?" captain tolliver joined us, so full of excitement of the evening that he forgot to give mr. elkins the greeting his return otherwise would have evoked. "gentlemen," said he, "it was glorious! nevah until this moment have i felt true fawgiveness in my breast faw the crime of appomattox! but to-night we ah truly a reunited people!" "glad to know it," said jim, "mighty glad, captain. the news'll send stocks up a-whooping, if it gets to new york!" chapter xx. i twice explain the condition of the trescott estate. nothing had remained unchanged in lattimore, and our old offices in the first national bank edifice had long since been vacated by us. the very building had been demolished, and another and many-storied structure stood in its place. now we were in the big grain belt trust company's building, the ground-floor of which was shared between the trust company and the general offices of the lattimore and great western. in one corner, and next to the private room of president elkins, was the office of barslow & elkins, where i commanded. into which entered mrs. trescott and her daughter one day, soon after mr. lattimore had been given his instructions concerning the offer of our syndicate to pay the debts of their estate and take over its properties. "josie and i have called," said the widow, "to talk with you about the estate matters. mr. lattimore came to see us last night and--told us." she seemed a little agitated, but in nowise so much cast down as might be expected of one who, considering herself rich, learns that she is poor. she had in her manner that mixture of dignity and constraint which marks the bearing of people whose relations with their friends have been affected by some great grief. a calamity not only changes our own feelings, but it makes us uncertain as to what our friends expect of us. "what we wish explained," said josie, "is just how it comes that our property must be deeded away." "i can see," said i, "that that is a matter which demands investigation on your part. your request is a natural and a proper one." "it is not that," said she, evidently objecting to the word investigation; "we are not so very much surprised, and we have no doubt as to the necessity of doing it. but we want to know as much as possible about it before we act." "quite right," said i. "mr. elkins is in the next office; let us call him in. he sees and can explain these things as clearly as any one." jim came in response to a summons by one of his clerks. he shook hands gravely with my visitors. "we are told," said mrs. trescott, "that our debts are a good deal more than we can pay--that we really have nothing." "not quite that," said jim; "the law gives to the widow the home and the life insurance. that is a good deal more than nothing." "as to whether we can keep that," said josie, "we are not discussing now; but there are some other things we should like cleared up." "we don't understand mr. cornish's offer to take the property and pay the debts," said mrs. trescott. jim's glance sought mine in a momentary and questioning astonishment; then he calmly returned the widow's look. josie's eyes were turned toward the carpet, and a slight blush tinged her cheeks. "ah," said jim, "yes; mr. cornish's offer. how did you learn of it?" "i got my understanding of it from mr. lattimore," said mrs. trescott, "and told josie about it." "before we consent to carry out this plan," said josie, "we ... i want to know all about the motives and considerations back of it. i want to know whether it is based on purely business considerations, or on some fancied obligation ... or ... or ... on merely friendly sentiments." "as to motives," said mr. elkins, "if the purely business requirements of the situation fully account for the proposition, we may waive the discussion of motives, can't we, josie?" "i imagine," said mrs. trescott, finding that jim's question remained unanswered, "that none of us will claim to be able to judge mr. cornish's motives." "certainly not," acquiesced mr. elkins. "none of us." "this is not what we came to ask about," said josie. "please tell us whether our house and the insurance money would be mamma's if this plan were not adopted--if the courts went on and settled the estate in the usual way?" "yes," said i, "the law gives her that, and justly. for the creditors knew all about the law when they took those bonds. so you need have no qualms of conscience on that." "as none of it belongs to me," said josie, "i shall leave all that to mamma. i avoid the necessity of settling it by ceasing to be 'the richest heiress in this part of the west'--one of the uses of adversity. but to proceed. mamma says that there is a corporation, or something, forming to pay our debts and take our property, and that it will take a hundred thousand dollars more to pay the debts than the estate is worth. i must understand why this corporation should do this. i can see that it will save pa's good name in the business world, and save us from public bankruptcy; but ought we to be saved these things at such a cost? and can we permit--a corporation--or any one, to do this for us?" mr. elkins nodded to me to speak. "my dear," said i, "it's another illustration of the truth that no man liveth unto himself alone--" she shrank, as if she feared some fresh hurt was about to be touched, and i saw that it was the second part of the text the anticipation of which gave her pain. quotation is sometimes ill for a green wound. "the fact is," i went on, "that things in lattimore are not in condition to bear a shock--general money conditions, i mean, you know." "i know," she said, nodding assent; "i can see that." "your father did a very large business for a time," i continued; "and when he sold lands he took some cash in payment, and for the balance notes of the various purchasers, secured by mortgages on the properties. many of these persons are mere adventurers, who bought on speculation, and when their first notes came due failed to pay. now if you had these notes, you could hold them, or foreclose the mortgages, and, beyond being disappointed in getting the money, no harm would be done." "i understand," said josie. "i knew something of this before." "but if we haven't the notes," inquired her mother, "where are they?" "well," i went on, "you know how we have all handled these matters here. mr. trescott did as we all did: he negotiated them. the grain belt trust company placed them for him, and his are the only securities it has handled except those of our syndicate. he took them to the trust company and signed them on the back, and thus promised to pay them if the first signer failed. then the trust company attached its guaranty to them, and they were resold all over the east, wherever people had money to put out at interest." "i see," said josie; "we have already had the money on these notes." "yes," said i, "and now we find that a great many of these notes, which are being sent on for payment, will not be paid. your father's estate is not able to pay them, and our trust company must either take them up or fail. if it fails, everyone will think that values in lattimore are unstable and fictitious, and so many people will try to sell out that we shall have a smashing of values, and possibly a panic. prices will drop, so that none of our mortgages will be good for their face. thousands of people will be broken, the city will be ruined, and there will be hard and distressful times, both here and where our paper is held. but if we can keep things as they are until we can do some large things we have in view, we are not afraid of anything serious happening. so we form this new corporation, and have it advance the funds on the notes, so as not to weaken the trust company--and because we can't afford to do it otherwise--and we know you would not permit it anyhow; and we ask you to give to the new corporation all the property which the creditors could reach, which will be held, and sold as opportunity offers, so as to make the loss as small as possible. but we must keep off this panic to save ourselves." "i must think about this," said josie. "i don't see any way out of it; but to have one's affairs so wrapped up in such a great tangle that one loses control of them seems wrong, somehow. and so far as i am concerned, i think i should prefer to turn everything over to the creditors--house and all--than to have even so good friends as yourself take on such a load for us. it seems as if we were saying to you, 'pay our debts or we'll ruin you!' i must think about it." "you understand it now?" said jim. "yes, in a way." "let me come over this evening," said he, "and i think i can remove this feeling from your mind. and by the way, the new corporation is not going to have the ranch out on the cheyenne range. the syndicate says it isn't worth anything. and i'm going to take it. i still believe in the headwaters of bitter creek as an art country." "thank you," said she vaguely. somehow, the explanation of the estate affairs seemed to hurt her. her color was still high, but her eyes were suffused, her voice grew choked at times, and she showed the distress of her recent trials, in something like a loss of self-control. her pretty head and slender figure, the flexile white hands clasped together in nervous strain to discuss these so vital matters, and, more than all, the departure from her habitual cool and self-possessed manner, was touching, and appealed powerfully to jim. he walked up to her, as she stood ready to leave, and laid his hand lightly on her arm. "the way barslow puts these property matters," said he, "you are called upon to think that all arrangements have been made upon a cold cash basis; and, actually, that's the fact. but you mustn't either of you think that in dealing with you we have forgotten that you are dear to us--friends. we should have had to act in the same way if you had been enemies, perhaps, but if there had been any way in which our--regard could have shown itself, that way would have been followed." "yes," said mrs. trescott, "we understand that. mr. lattimore said almost the same thing, and we know that in what he did mr. cornish--" "we must go now, mamma," said josie. "thank you both very much. it won't do any harm for me to take a day or so for considering this in all its phases; but i know now what i shall do. the thought of the distress that might come to people here and elsewhere as a result of these mistakes here is a new one, and a little big for me, at first." jim sat by the desk, after they went away, folding insurance blotters and savagely tearing them in pieces. "i wish to god," said he, "that i could throw my hand into the deck and quit!" "what's the matter?" said i. "oh--nothing," he returned. "only, look at the situation. she comes in, filled with the idea that it was cornish who proposed this plan, and that he did it for her sake. i couldn't very well say, like a boy, ''twasn't cornish; 'twas me!', could i? and in showing her the purely mercenary character of the deal, i'm put in the position of backcapping cornish, and she goes away with that impression! oh, al, what's the good of being able to convince and control every one else, if you are always further off than kamschatka with the only one for whose feelings you really care?" "i don't think it struck her in that way at all," said i. "she could see how it was, and did, whatever her mother may think. but what possessed lattimore to tell mrs. trescott that cornish story?" "oh, lattimore never said anything like that!" he returned disgustedly. "he told her that it was proposed by a friend, or one of the syndicate, or something like that; and they are so saturated with the cornish idea up there lately, that they filled up the blank out of their own minds. another mighty encouraging symptom, isn't it?" not more than a day or two after this, and after the news of the "purchase" of the trescott estate was being whispered about, my telephone rang, just before my time for leaving the office, and, on answering, i found that antonia was at the other end of the wire. "is this mr. barslow?" said she. "how do you do? alice is with us this afternoon, and she and mamma have given me authority to bring you home to dinner with us. do you surrender?" "always," said i, "at such a summons." "then i'll come for you in ten minutes, if you'll wait for me. it's ever so good of you." from her way of finishing the conversation, i knew she was coming to the office. so i waited in pleasurable anticipation of her coming, thinking of the perversity of the scheme of things which turned the eyes of both jim and cornish to josie, while this girl coming to fetch me yearned so strongly toward one of them that her sorrow--borne lightly and cheerfully as it was--was an open secret. when she came she made her way past the clerks in the first room and into my private den. not until the door closed behind her, and we were alone, did i see that she was not in her usual spirits. then i saw that unmistakable quiver in her lips, so like a smile, so far from mirth, which my acquaintance with the girl, so sensitive and free from secretiveness, had made me familiar with. "i want to know about some things," said she, "that papa hints about in a blind sort of a way, but doesn't tell clearly. is it true that josie and her mother are poor?" "that is something which ought not to be known yet," said i, "but it is true." "oh," said she tearfully, "i am so sorry, so sorry!" "antonia," said i, as she hastily brushed her eyes, "these tears do your kind heart credit!" "oh, don't, don't talk to me like that!" she exclaimed passionately. "my kind heart! why, sometimes i hate her; and i would be glad if she was out of the world! don't look like that at me! and don't pretend to be surprised, or say you don't understand me. i think every one understands me, and has for a long time. i think everybody on the street says, after i pass, 'poor antonia!' i _must_ talk to somebody! and i'd rather talk to you because, even though you are a man and can't possibly know how i feel, you understand _him_ better than any one else i know--and _you_ love him too!" i started to say something, but the situation did not lend itself to words. neither could i pat her on the shoulders, or press her hand, as i might have done with a man. pale and beautiful, her jaunty hat a little awry, her blonde ringlets in some disorder, she sat unapproachable in her grief. "you look at me," said she, with a little gasping laugh, "as if i were a drowning girl, and you chained to the bank. if you haven't pitied me in the past, albert, don't pity me now; for the mere saying openly to some human being that i love him seems almost to make me happy!" i lamely murmured some inanity, of which she took not the slightest notice. "is it true," she asked, "that mr. elkins is to pay their debts, and that they are to be--married?" "no," said i, glad, for some reason which is not very clear, to find something to deny. "nothing of the sort, i assure you." and again, this time something wearily, for it was the second time over it in so short a time, i explained the disposition of the trescott estate. "but he urged it?" she said. "he insisted upon it?" "yes." she arose, buttoned her jacket about her, and stood quietly as if to test her mastery of herself, once or twice moving as if to speak, but stopping short, with a long, quivering sigh. i longed to take her in my arms and comfort her; for, in a way, she attracted me strongly. "mr. barslow," said she at last, "i have no apology to make to you; for you are my friend. and i have no feeling toward mr. elkins of which, in my secret heart, and so long as he knows nothing of it, i am not proud. to know him ... and love him may be death ... but it is honor!... i am sorry josie is poor, because it is a hard thing for her; but more because i know he will be drawn to her in a stronger way by her poverty. shake hands with me, albert, and be jolly, i'm jollier, away down deep, than i've been for a long, long time; and i thank you for that!" we shook hands warmly, like comrades, and passed down to her carriage together. at dinner she was vivacious as ever; but i was downcast. so much so that mrs. hinckley devoted herself to me, cheering me with a dissertation on "sex in mind." i asked myself if the atmosphere in which she had been reared had not in some degree contributed to the attitude of antonia toward the expression to me of her regard for jim. so the trescott estate matter was arranged. in a few days the boom was strengthened by newspaper stories of the purchase, by heavy financial interests, of the entire list of assets in the hands of the administrator. "this immense deal," said the _herald_, "is new proof of the desirability of lattimore property. the acme investment company, which will handle the properties, has bought for investment, and will hold for increased prices. it may be taken as certain that in no other city in the country could so large and varied a list of holdings be so quickly and advantageously realized upon." this was cheering--to the masses. but to us it was like praise for the high color of a fever patient. even while the rehabilitated giddings thus lifted his voice in pæans of rejoicing, the lurid signals of danger appeared in our sky. chapter xxi. of conflicts, within and without. i have often wished that some sort of a business weather-chart might be periodically got out, showing conditions all over the world. it seems to me that with such a map one could forecast financial storms and squalls with an accuracy quite up to the weather-bureau standard. had we at lattimore been provided with such a chart, and been reminded of the wisdom of referring to it occasionally, we might have saved ourselves some surprises. we should have known of certain areas of speculative high pressure in australasia, argentina, and south africa, which existed even prior to my meeting with jim that day in the pullman smoking-room coming out of chicago. these we should have seen changing month by month, until at the time when we were most gloriously carrying things before us in lattimore, each of these spots on the other side of the little old world showed financial disturbances--pronounced "lows." we should have seen symptoms of storm on the european bourses; and we should have thought of the natural progress of the moving areas, and derived much benefit from such consideration. we should certainly have paid some attention to it, if we could have seen the black isobars drawn about london, when the great banking house of fleischmann brothers went down in the wreck of their south african and argentine investments. but having no such chart, and being much engrossed in the game against the world and destiny, we glanced for a moment at the dispatches, seeing nothing in them of interest to us, congratulated ourselves that we were not as other investors and speculators, and played on. once in a while we found some over-cautious banker or broker who had inexplicable fears for the future. "here is an idiot," said cornish, while we were placing the paper to float the trescott deal, "who is calling his loans; and why, do you think?" "can't guess," said jim, "unless he needs the money. how does _he_ account for it?" "read his letter," said cornish. "says the fleischmann failure in london is making his directors cautious. i'm calling his attention to the now prevailing sun-spots, as bearing on lattimore property." mr. elkins read the letter carefully, turned it over, and read it again. "don't," said he; "he may be one of those asses who fail to see the business value of the _reductio ad absurdum_.... fellows, we must push this l. & g. w. business with pendleton. some of us ought to be down there now." "that is wise counsel," i agreed, "and you're the man." "no," said he positively, "i'm not the man. cornish, can't you go, starting, say, to-morrow?" "no indeed," said cornish with equal positiveness; "since my turn-down by wade on that bond deal, i'm out of touch with the lower broadway and wall street element. it seems clear to me that you are the only one to carry this negotiation forward." "i can't go, absolutely," insisted jim. "al, it seems to be up to you." i knew that jim ought to do this work, and could not understand the reasons for both himself and cornish declining the mission. privately, i told him that it was nonsense to send me; but he found reasons in plenty for the course he had determined upon. he had better control of the hot air, he said, but as a matter of fact i was more in pendleton's class than he was, i was more careful in my statements, and i saw further into men's minds. "and if, as you say," said he, "pendleton thinks me the whole works here, it will show a self-possession and freedom from anxiety on our part to accredit a subordinate (as you call yourself) as envoy to the court of st. scads. again, affairs here are likely to need me at any time; and if we go wrong here, it's all off. i don't dare leave. anyhow, down deep in your subconsciousness, you know that in diplomacy you really have us all beaten to a pulp: and this is a matter as purely diplomatic as draw-poker. you'll do all right." my wife was skeptical as to the necessity of my going. "why doesn't mr. cornish go, then?" she inquired, after i had explained to her the position of mr. elkins. "he is a native of wall street, i believe." "well," i repeated, "they both say positively that they can't go." "your natural specialty may be diplomacy," said she pityingly, "but if you take the reasons they give as the real ones, i must be permitted to doubt it. it's perfectly obvious that if josie were transferred to new york, the demands of business would take them both there at once." this remark struck me as very subtle, and as having a good deal in it. josie had never permitted the rivalry between jim and cornish to become publicly apparent; but in spite of the mourning which kept the trescott's in semi-retirement, it was daily growing more keen. elkins was plainly anxious at the progress cornish had seemed to make during his last long absence, and still doubtful of his relations with josie after that utterance over her father's body. but he was not one to give up, and so, whenever she came over for an evening with alice, jim was sure to drop in casually and see us. i believe alice telephoned him. on the other hand, cornish was calling at the trescott house with increasing frequency. mrs. trescott was decidedly favorable to him, alice a pronounced partisan of elkins; and josie vibrated between the two oppositely charged atmospheres, calmly non-committal, and apparently pleased with both. but the affair was affecting our relations. there was a new feeling, still unexpressed, of strain and stress, in spite of the familiarity and comradeship of long and intimate intercourse. moreover, i felt that mr. hinckley was not on the same terms with jim as formerly, and i wondered if he was possessed of antonia's secret. it was with a prevision of something out of the ordinary, therefore, that i received through alice a request from josie for a private interview with me. she would come to us at any time when i would telephone that i was at home and would see her. of course i at once decided i would go to her. which, that evening, my last in lattimore before starting for the east, i did. there was a side door to my house, and a corresponding one in the trescott home across the street. we were all quite in the habit, in our constant visiting between the households, of making a short cut by crossing the road from one of these doors to the other. this i did that evening, rapped at the door, and imagining i heard a voice bid me come in, opened it, and stepping into the library, found no one. the door between the library and the front hall stood open, and through it i heard the voice of miss trescott and the clear, carrying tones of mr. cornish, in low but earnest conversation. "yes," i heard him say, "perhaps. and if i am, haven't i abundant reason?" "i have told you often," said she pleadingly, "that i would give you a definite answer whenever you definitely demand it--" "and that it would in that case be 'no,'" he added, completing the sentence. "oh, josie, my darling, haven't you punished me enough for my bad conduct toward you in that old time? i was a young fool, and you a strange country girl; but as soon as you left us, i began to feel your sweetness. and i was seeking for you everywhere i went until i found you that night up there by the lake. does that seem like slighting you? why, i hope you don't deem me capable of being satisfied in this hole lattimore, under any circumstances, if it hadn't been for the hope and comfort your being here has given me!" "i thought we were to say no more about that old time," said she; "i thought the doings of johnny cornish were not to be remembered by or of bedford." "the name i've asked you to call me by!" said he passionately. "does that mean--" "it means nothing," said she. "oh, please, please!--good-night!" i retired to the porch, and rapped again. she came to the door blushing redly, and so fluttered by their leave-taking that i thanked god that jim was not in my place. there would have been division in our ranks at once; for it seemed to me that her conduct to cornish was too complaisant by far. "i came over," said i, "because alice said you wanted to see me." i think there must have been in my tone something of the reproach in my thoughts; for she timidly said she was sorry to have given me so much trouble. "oh, don't, josie!" said i. "you know i'd not miss the chance of doing you a favor for anything. tell me what it is, my dear girl, and don't speak of trouble." "if you forbid reference to trouble," said she, smiling, "it will stop this conference. for my troubles are what i want to talk to you about. may i go on?--you see, our financial condition is awfully queer. mamma has some money, but not much. and we have this big house. it's absurd for us to live in it, and i want to ask you first, can you sell it for us?" it was doubtful, i told her. a year or so ago, i went on, it would have been easy; but somehow the market for fine houses was dull now. we would try, though, and hoped to succeed. we talked at length, and i took copious memoranda for my clerks. "there is another thing," said she when we had finished the subject of the house, "upon which i want light, something upon which depends my staying here or going away. you know general lattimore and i are friends, and that i place great trust in his conclusions. he says that the most terrible hard times here would result from anything happening to your syndicate. you have said almost the same thing once or twice, and the other day you said something about great operations which you have in view which will, somehow, do away with any danger of that kind. is it true that you would all be--ruined by a--breaking up--or anything of that sort?" "just now," i confessed, "such a thing would be dangerous; but i hope we shall soon be past all that." i told her, as well as i could, about our hopes, and of my mission to new york. "you must suspect," said she, "that my presence here is danger to your harmony; and through you, to all these people whose names even we have never heard. shall i go away? i can go almost anywhere with mamma, and we can get along nicely. now that pa is gone, my work here is over, and i want to get into the world." i thought of the parallelism between her discontent and the speech mr. cornish had made, referring so contemptuously to lattimore. i began to see the many things in common between them, and i grew anxious for jim. "of all things," said she, "i want to avoid the rôle of helen setting a city in flames. it would be so absurd--and so terrible; and rather than do such a hackneyed and harmful thing, i want to go away." "do you really mean that?" i asked, "haven't you a desire to make your choice, and stay?" "you mustn't ask that question, albert," said she. "the answer is a secret--from every one. but i will say--that if you succeed in this mission, so as to put people here quite out of danger--i may not go away--not for some time!" she was blushing again, just as she blushed when she admitted me. i thought once more of the fluttering cry, "oh, please--please!" and the pause before she added the good-night, and my jealousy for jim rose again. "well," said i, rising, "all i can say is that i hope all will be safe when i return, and that you will find it quite possible to--remain. my advice is: do nothing looking toward leaving until i return." "don't be cross with me, mr. barslow," said she, "for really, really--i am in great perplexity." "i am not cross," said i, "but don't you see how hard it is for me to advise? things conflict so, and all among your friends!" "they do conflict," she assented, "they do conflict, every way, and all the time--and do, do give me a little credit for keeping the conflict from getting beyond control for so long; for there are conflicts within, as well as without! don't blame helen altogether, or me, whatever happens!" she hung on my arm, as she took me to the door, and seemed deeply troubled. i left her, and walked several times around the block, ruminating upon the extraordinary way in which these dissolving views of passion were displaying themselves to me. not that the mere matter of outburst of confidences surprised me; for people all my life have bored me with their secret woes. i think it is because i early formed a habit of looking sympathetic. but these concerned me so nearly that their gradual focussing to some sort of climax filled me with anxious interest. the next day i spent in the sleeping-car, running into chicago. as the clickety-_clack_, clickety-_clack_, clickety-_clack_ of the wheels vibrated through my couch, i pondered on the ridiculous position of that cautious eastern bank as to the fleischmann brothers' failure; then on the lattimore & great western and belt line sale; and finally worked around through the straits of sunda, in a suspicious lateen-rigged craft manned by malays and portuguese. finally, i was horrified at discovering cornish, in a slashed doublet, carrying josie away in one of the boats, having scuttled the vessel and left jim bound to the mast. "chicago in fifteen minutes, suh," said the porter, at this critical point. "just in time to dress, suh." and as i awoke, my approach toward new york brought to me a sickening consciousness of the struggle which awaited me there, and the fatal results of failure. chapter xxii. in which i win my great victory. my plan was our old one--to see both pendleton and halliday, and, if possible, to allow both to know of the fact that we had two strings to our bow, playing the one off against the other. whether or not there was any likelihood of this course doing any good was dependent on the existence of the strained personal relations, as well as the business rivalry, generally supposed to prevail between the two titans of the highways. as conditions have since become, plans like mine are quite sure to come to naught; but in those days the community of interests in the railway world had not reached its present perfection of organization. men like pendleton and halliday were preparing the way for it, but the personal equation was then a powerful factor in the problem, and these builders of their own systems still carried on their private wars with their own forces. in such a war our properties were important. the lattimore & great western with the belt line terminals would make the pendleton system dominant in lattimore. in the possession of halliday it would render him the arbiter of the city's fortunes, and would cut off from his rival's lines the rich business from this feeder. both men were playing with the patience of muscovite diplomacy the old and tried game of permitting the little road to run until it got into difficulties, and then swooping down upon it; but either, we thought, and especially pendleton, would pay full value for the properties rather than see them fall into his opponent's net. i wired pendleton's office from home that i was coming. at chicago i received from his private secretary a telegram reading: "mr. pendleton will see you at any time after the th inst. smith." we had been having some correspondence with mr. halliday's office on matters of disputed switching and trackage dues. the controversy had gone up from subordinate to subordinate to the fountain of power itself. a contract had been sent on for examination, embodying a _modus vivendi_ governing future relations. i had wired notice of my coming to him also, and his answer, which lay alongside pendleton's in the same box, was evidently based on the supposition that it was this contract which was bringing me east, and was worded so as to relieve me of the journey if possible. "will be in new york on evening of th," it read, "not before. with slight modifications, contract submitted as to l. & g. w. and belt line matter will be executed. halliday." i spent no time in chicago, but pushed on, in the respectable isolation of a through sleeper on a limited train. once in a while i went forward into the day coach, to give myself the experience of the complete change in the social atmosphere. on arrival, i began killing time by running down every scrap of our business in new york. my gorge rose at all forms of amusement; but i had a sensation of doing something while on the cars, and went to boston, and down to philadelphia, all the time feeling the pulse of business. there was a lack of that confident hopefulness which greeted us on our former visits. i heard the fleischmann failure spoken of rather frequently. one or two financial establishments on this side of the water were looked at askance because of their supposed connections with the fleischmanns. mr. wade, in hushed tones, advised me to prepare for some little stringency after the holidays. "nothing serious, you know, mr. borlish," said he, still paying his mnemonic tribute to the other names of our syndicate; "nothing to be spoken of as hard times; and as for panic, the financial world is too well organized for _that_ ever to happen again! but a little tightening of things, mr. cornings, to sort of clear the decks for action on lines of conservatism for the year's business." i talked with mr. smith, mr. pendleton's private secretary, and with mr. carson, who spoke for mr. halliday. in fact i went over the l. & g. w. proposition pretty fully with each of them, and each office had a well-digested and succinct statement of the matter for the examination of the magnates when they came back. once while mr. carson and i were on our way to take luncheon together, we met mr. smith, and i was glad to note the glance of marked interest which he bestowed upon us. the meeting was a piece of unexpected good fortune. on the th i had my audience with mr. pendleton. he had the typewritten statement of the proposition before him, and was ready to discuss it with his usual incisiveness. "i am willing to say to you, mr. barslow," said he, "that we are willing to take over your line when the propitious time comes. we don't think that now is such a time. why not run along as we are?" "because we are not satisfied with the railroad business as a side line, mr. pendleton," said i. "we must have more mileage or none at all, and if we begin extensions, we shall be drawn into railroading as an exclusive vocation. we prefer to close out that department, and to put in all our energies to the development of our city." "when must you know about this?" he asked. "i came east to close it up, if possible," i answered. "you are familiar with the situation, and we thought must be ready to decide." "two and a quarter millions," he objected, "is out of the question. i can't expect my directors to view half the price with any favor. how can i?" "show them our earnings," i suggested. "yes," said he, "that will do very well to talk to people who can be made to forget the fact that you've been building a city there from a country village, and your line has been pulling in everything to build it with. the next five years will be different. again, while i feel sure the business men of your town will still throw things our way, as they have your way--tonnage i mean--there might be a tendency to divide it up more than when your own people were working for the trade. and the next five years will be different anyhow." "do you remember," said i, "how skeptical you were as to the past five?" "i acknowledge it," said he, laughing. "the fact is i didn't give you credit for being as big men as you are. but even a big man, or a big town, can reach only as high as it can. but we can't settle that question. i shouldn't expect a lattimore boomer ever to adopt my view of it. i shall give this matter some attention to-day, and while i feel sure we are too far apart ever to come together, come in in the morning, and we will look at it again." "i hope we may come together," said i, rising; "we built the line to bring you into lattimore, and we want to keep you there. it has made our town, and we prize the connection highly." "ah, yes," he answered, countering. "well, we are spread out a good deal now, you know; and some of our directors look with suspicion upon your sudden growth, and would not feel sorry to withdraw. i don't agree with 'em, you know, but i must defer to others sometimes. good-morning." i passed the evening with carson at the theatre, and supped with him afterward. he gave me every opportunity to indulge in champagne, and evinced a desire to know all about business conditions in lattimore, and the affairs of the l. & g. w. i suspected that the former fact had some connection with the latter. i went to my hotel, however, in my usual state of ebriety, while mr. carson had attained a degree of friendliness toward me bordering on affection, as a direct result of setting the pace in the consumption of wine. i listened patiently to his complaints of halliday's ungratefulness toward him in not giving him the general managership of one of the associated roads; but when he began to confide to me the various pathological conditions of his family, including mrs. carson, i drew the line, and broke up the party. i retired, feeling a little resentful toward carson. his device seemed rather cheap to try on a full-grown man. yet his entertainment had been undeniably good. next morning i was admitted to the presence of the great man with less than half an hour's delay. he turned to me, and plunged at once into the midst of the subject. evidently some old misunderstanding of the question came up in his mind by association of ideas, as a rejected paper will be drawn with its related files from a pigeon-hole. "that terminal charge," said he, "has not counted for much against the success of your road, yet; but the contract provides for increasing rentals, and it is already too much. the trackage and depots aren't worth it. it will be a millstone about your necks!" "well," said i, "you can understand the reason for making the rentals high. we had to show revenue for the belt line system in order to float the bonds, but the rentals become of no consequence when once you own both properties--and that's our proposal to you." "oh, yes!" said he, and at once changed the subject. this was the only instance, in all my observation of him, in which he forgot anything, or failed correctly to see the very core of the situation. i felt somehow elated at being for a moment his superior in any respect. we began discussing rates and tonnage, and he sent for his freight expert again. i took from my pocket some letters and telegrams and made computations on the backs of them. some of these figures he wanted to keep for further reference. "please let me have those figures until this afternoon," said he. "i must ask you to excuse me now. at two i'll give the matter another half-hour. come back, mr. barslow, prepared to name a reasonable sum, and i will accept or reject, and finish the matter." i left the envelopes on his desk and went out. at the hotel i sat down to think out my program and began arranging things for my departure. was it the th or the th that mr. halliday was to return? i would look at his message. i turned over all my telegrams, but it was gone. then i thought. that was the telegram i had left with pendleton! would he suspect that i had left it as a trick, and resent the act? no, this was scarcely likely, for he himself had asked for it. suddenly the construction of which it was susceptible flashed into my mind. "with slight modifications contract submitted as to l. & g. w. and belt line matter will be executed. halliday." i was feverish until two o'clock; for i could not guess the effect of this telegram, should it be read by pendleton. i found him impassive and keen-eyed, and i waited longer than usual for that aquiline swoop of his, as he turned in his revolving chair. i felt sure then that he had not read the message. i think differently now. "well, mr. barslow," said he smilingly, "how far down in the millions are we to-day?" "mr. pendleton," i replied, steady as to tone, but with a quiver in my legs, "i can say nothing less than an even two millions." "it's too much," said he cheerfully, and my heart sank, "but i like lattimore, and you men who live there, and i want to stay in the town. i'll have the legal department prepare a contract covering the whole matter of transfers and future relations, and providing for the price you mention. you can submit it to your people, and in a short time i shall be in chicago, and, if convenient to you, we can meet there and close the transaction. as a matter of form, i shall submit it to our directors; but you may consider it settled, i think." "one of our number," said i, as calmly as if a two-million-dollar transaction were common at lattimore, "can meet you in chicago at any time. when will this contract be drawn?" "call to-morrow morning--say at ten. show them in," this last to his clerk, "good-morning, mr. barslow." one doesn't get as hilarious over a victory won alone as when he goes over the ramparts touching elbows with his charging fellows. the hurrah is a collective interjection. so i went in a sober frame of mind and telegraphed jim and alice of my success, cautioning my wife to say nothing about it. then i wandered about new york, contrasting my way of rejoicing with the demonstration when we three had financed the lattimore & great western bonds. i went to a vaudeville show and afterward walked miles and miles through the mysteries of the night in that wilderness. i was unutterably alone. the strain of my solitary mission in the great city was telling upon me. "telegram for you, mr. barslow," said the night clerk, as i applied for my key. it was a long message from jim, and in cipher. i slowly deciphered it, my initial anxiety growing, as i progressed, to an agony. "come home at once," it read. "cornish deserting. must take care of the hound's interest somehow. threatens litigation. a hold-up, but he has the drop. am in doubt whether to shoot him now or later. stop at chicago, and bring harper. bring him, understand? unless pendleton deal is made, this means worse things than we ever dreamed of; but don't wait. leave pendleton for later, and come home. if i follow my inclinations, you will find me in jail for murder. elkins." all night i sat, turning this over in my mind. was it ruin, or would my success here carry us through? without a moment's sleep i ate my breakfast, braced myself with coffee, engaged a berth for the return journey, and promptly presented myself at pendleton's office at ten. wearily we went over the precious contract, and i took my copy and left. all that day i rode in a sort of trance, in which i could see before my eyes the forms of the hosts of those whom jim had called "the captives below decks," whose fortunes were dependent upon whether we striving, foolish, scheming, passionate men went to the wall. a hundred times i read in jim's telegram the acuteness of our crisis; and a sense of our danger swept dauntingly over my spirit. a hundred times i wished that i might awake and find that the whole thing--aladdin and his ring, the palaces, gnomes, genies, and all--could pass away like a tale that is told, and leave me back in the rusty little town where it found me. i slept heavily that night, and was very much much more myself when i went to see harper in chicago. he had received a message from jim, and was ready to go. he also had one for me, sent in his care, and just arrived. "you have saved the fight," said the message; "your success came just as they were counting nine on us. with what you have done we can beat the game yet. bring harper, and come on." harper, cool and collected, big and blonde, with a hail-fellow-well-met manner which spoke eloquently of the west, was a great comfort to me. he made light of the trouble. "cornish is no fool," said he, "and he isn't going to saw off the limb he stands on." i tried to take this view of it; but i knew, as he did not, the real source of the enmity between elkins and cornish, and my fears returned. business differences might be smoothed over; but with two such men, the quarrel of rivals in love meant nothing but the end of things between them. chapter xxiii. the "dutchman's mill" and what it ground. we sat in conclave about the table. i saw by the lined faces of elkins and hinckley that i had come back to a closely-beleaguered camp, where heavy watching had robbed the couch of sleep, and care pressed down the spirit. i had returned successful, but not to receive a triumph: rather, harper and myself constituted a relief force, thrown in by stratagem, too weak to raise the siege, but bearing glad tidings of strong succor on the way. it was our first full meeting without cornish; and harper sat in his place. he was unruffled and buoyant in manner, in spite of the stock in the grain belt trust company which he held, and the loans placed with his insurance company by mr. hinckley. "i believe," said he, "that we are here to consider a communication from mr. cornish. it seems that we ought to hear the letter." "i'll read it in a minute," said jim, "but first let me say that this grows out of a talk between mr. cornish and myself. hinckley and barslow know that there have been differences between us here for some time." "quite natural," said harper; "according to all the experience-tables, you ought to have had a fight somewhere in the crowd long before this." "mr. cornish," went on mr. elkins, "has favored the policy of converting our holdings into cash, and letting the obligations we have floated stand solely on the assets by which they are secured. the rest of us have foreseen such rapid liquidation, as a certain result of such a policy, that not only would our town receive a blow from which it could never recover, but the investment world would suffer in the collapse." "i should say so," said harper; "we'll have to look closely to the suicide clause in our policies held in new england, if that takes place!" "well," said jim, continuing, "last tuesday the matter came to an issue between us, and some plain talk was indulged in; perhaps the language was a little strong on my part, and mr. cornish considered himself aggrieved, and said, among other things, that he, for one, would not submit to extinguishment, and he would show me that i could not go on in opposition to his wishes." "what did you say to that?" asked hinckley. "i informed him," said jim, "that i was from missouri, or words to that effect; and that my own impression was, the majority of the stock in our concerns would control. my present view is that he's showing me." a ghost of a smile went round at this, and jim began reading cornish's letter. "events of the recent past convince me," the secessionist had written, "that no good can come from the further continuance of our syndicate. i therefore propose to sell all my interest in our various properties to the other members, and to retire. should you care to consider such a thing, i am prepared to make you an alternative offer, to buy your interests. as the purchase of three shares by one is a heavier load than the taking over of one share by three, i should expect to buy at a lower proportional price than i should be willing to sell for. as the management of our enterprises seems to have abandoned the tried principles of business, for some considerations the precise nature of which i am not acute enough to discern, and as a sale to me would balk the very benevolent purposes recently avowed by you, i assume that i shall not be called upon to make an offer. "there is at least one person among those to whom this is addressed who knows that in beginning our operations in lattimore it was understood that we should so manage affairs as to promote and take advantage of a bulge in values, and then pull out with a profit. just what may be his policy when this reaches him i cannot, after my experience with his ability as a lightning change artist, venture to predict; but my last information leads me to believe that he is championing the utopian plan of running the business, not only past the bulge, but into the slump. i, for one, will not permit my fortune to be jeopardized by so palpable a piece of perfidy. "i may be allowed to add that i am prepared to take such measures as may seem to my legal advisers best to protect my interests. i am assured that the funds of one corporation will not be permitted by the courts to be donated to the bolstering up of another, over the protest of a minority stockholder. you may confidently assume that this advice will be tested to the utmost before the acts now threatened are permitted to be actually done. "i attach hereto a schedule of our holdings, with the amount of my interest in each, and the price i will take. i trust that i may have an answer to this at your earliest convenience. i beg to add that any great delay in answering will be taken by me as a refusal on your part to do anything, and i shall act accordingly. "very respectfully, "j. bedford cornish." "huh!" ejaculated harper, "would he do it, d'ye think?" "he's a very resolute man," said hinckley. "he calculates," said jim, "that if he begins operations, he can have receiverships and things of that kind in his interest, and in that way swipe the salvage. on the other hand, he must know that his loss would be proportioned to ours, and would be great. he's sore, and that counts for something. i figure that the chances are seven out of ten that he'll do it--and that's too strong a game for us to go up against." "what would be the worst that could happen if he began proceedings?" said i. "the worst," answered jim laconically. "i don't say, you know," he went on after a pause, "that cornish hasn't some reason for his position. from a cur's standpoint he's entirely right. we didn't anticipate the big way in which things have worked out here, nor how deep our roots would strike; and we did intend to cash in when the wave came. and a cur can't understand our position in the light of these developments. he can't see that in view of the number of people sucked down with her when a great ship like ours sinks, nobody but a murderer would needlessly see her wrecked. what he proposes is to scuttle her. sell to him! i'd as soon sell vassar college to brigham young!" this tragic humorousness had the double effect of showing us the dilemma, and taking the edge off the horror of it. "if it were my case," said harper, "i'd call him. i don't believe he'll smash things; but you fellows know each other best, and i'm here to give what aid and comfort i can, and not to direct. i accept your judgment as to the danger. now let's do business. i've got to get back to chicago by the next train, and i want to go feeling that my stock in the grain belt trust company is an asset and not a liability. let's do business." "as for going back on the next train," said mr. elkins, "you've got another guess coming: this one was wrong. as for doing business, the first thing in my opinion is to examine the items of this bill of larceny, and see about scaling them down." "we might be able," said i, "to turn over properties instead of cash, for some of it." elkins appointed harper and hinckley to do the negotiating with cornish. it was clear, he said, that neither he nor i was the proper person to act. they soon went out on their mission and left me with jim. "do you see what a snowfall we've had?" he asked. "it fell deeper and deeper, until i thought it would never stop. no such sleighing for years. and funny as it may seem, it was that that brought on this crisis. josie and i went sleighing, and the hound was furious. next time we met he started this business going." i was studying the schedule, and said nothing. after a while he began talking again, in a slow manner, as if the words came lagging behind a labored train of thought. "remember the mill the dutchman had?... ground salt, and nothing but salt ... ours won't grind anything but mortgages ... well, the hair of the dog must cure the bite ... fight fire with fire ... _similia similibus curantur_ ... we can't trade horses, nor methods, in the middle of the ford.... the mill has got to go on grinding mortgages until we're carried over; and hinckley and the grain belt trust must float 'em. of course the infernal mill ground salt until it sent the whole shooting-match to the bottom of the sea; but you mustn't be misled by analogies. the dutchman hadn't any good old al to lose telegrams in an absent-minded way where they would do the most good, and sell railroads to old man pendleton ... as for us, it's the time-worn case of electing between the old sheep and the lamb. we'll take the adult mutton, and go the whole hog ... and if we lose, the tail'll have to go with the hide.... but we won't lose, al, we won't lose. there isn't treason enough in all the storehouses of hell to balk or defeat us. it's a question of courage and resolution and confidence, and imparting all those feelings to every one else. there isn't malice enough, even if it were a whole pack, instead of one lone hyena, to put out the fires in those furnaces over there, or stop the wheels in that flume, or make our streets grow grass. the things we've built are going to stay built, and the word of lattimore will stand!" "my hand on that!" said i. * * * * * there was little in the way of higgling: for cornish proudly refused much to discuss matters; and when we found what we must pay to prevent the explosion, it sickened us. jim strongly urged upon harper the taking of cornish's shares. "no," said harper, "the frugality and indemnity is too good a thing to drop; and i can't carry both. but if you can show me how, within a short time, you can pay it back, i'll find you the cash you lack." we could not wait for the two millions from pendleton; and the interim must be bridged over by any desperate means. we took, for the moment only, the funds advanced through harper; and cornish took his price. the day after harper went away we were busy all day long, drawing notes and mortgages. every unincumbered piece of our property, the orts, dregs, and offcast of our operations, were made the subjects of transfers to the rag-tag and bobtail of lattimore society. a lot worth little or nothing was conveyed to tom, dick, or harry for a great nominal price, and a mortgage for from two-thirds to three-fourths of the sum given back by this straw-man purchaser. our mill was grinding mortgages. i do not expect that any one will say that this course was justified or justifiable; but, if anything can excuse it, the terrible difficulty of our position ought to be considered in mitigation, if not excuse. pressed upon from without, and wounded by blows dealt in the dark from within; with dreadful failure threatening, and with brilliant success, and the averting of wide-spread calamity as the reward of only a little delay, we used the only expedient at hand, and fought the battle through. we were caught in the mighty swirl of a modern business maelstrom, and, with unreasoning reflexes, clutched at man or log indifferently, as we felt the waters rising over us; and broadcast all over the east were sown the slips of paper ground out by our mill, through the spout of the grain belt trust company; and wherever they fell they were seized upon by the banks, which had through years of experience learned to look upon our notes and bonds as good. "past the bulge," quoted jim, "and into the slump! we'll see what the whelp says when he finds that, in spite of all his attempts to scuttle, there isn't going to be any slump!" by which observation it will appear that, as our operations began to bring in returns in almost their old abundance, our courage rose. at the very last, some bank failures in new york, and a bad day on 'change in chicago, cut off the stream, and we had to ask harper to carry over a part of the frugality and indemnity loan until we could settle with pendleton; but this was a small matter running into only five figures. perhaps it was because we saw only a part of the situation that our courage rose. we saw things at lattimore with vivid clearness. but we failed to see that like centers of stress were sprinkled all over the map, from ocean to ocean; that in the mountains of the south were the lattimores of iron, steel, coal, and the winter-resort boom; and in the central valleys were other lattimores like ours; that among the peaks and canyons further west were the lattimores of mines; that along the pacific were the lattimores of harbors and deep-water terminals; that every one of these lattimores had in the east and in europe its clientage of barr-smiths, wickershams, and dorrs, feeding the flames of the fever with other people's money; and that in every village and factory, town and city, where wealth had piled up, seeking investment, were the "captives below decks," who, in the complex machinery of this end-of-the-century life, were made or marred by the same influences which made or marred us. the low area had swept across the seas, and now rested on us. the clouds were charged with the thunder and lightning of disaster. almost any accidental disturbance might precipitate a crash. had we known all this, as we now know it, the consciousness of the tragical race we were running to reach the harbor of a consummated sale to pendleton might have paralyzed our efforts. sometimes one may cross in the dark, on narrow footing, a chasm the abyss of which, if seen, would dizzily draw one down to destruction. chapter xxiv. the beginning of the end. court parties and court factions are always known to the populace, even down to the groom and scullions. so the defection of cornish soon became a matter of gossip at bars, in stables, and especially about the desks of real-estate offices. had it been a matter of armed internecine strife, the elkins faction would have mustered an overwhelming majority; for jim's bluff democratic ways, and his apparent identity of fibre with the mass of the people, would have made him a popular idol, had he been a thousand times a railroad president. while these rumors of a feud were floating about, captain tolliver went to jim's office several times, dressed with great care, and sat in silence, and in stiff and formal dignity, for a matter of five minutes or so, and then retired, with the suggestion that if there was any way in which he could serve mr. elkins he should be happy. "do you know," said jim to me, "that i'm afraid hamlet's 'bugs and goblins' are troubling tolliver; in other words, that he's getting bughouse?" "no," said i; "while i haven't the slightest idea what ails him, you'll find that it's something quite natural for him when you get a full view of his case." finally, jim, in thanking him for his proffered assistance, inquired diplomatically after the thing which weighed upon the captain's mind. "i may be mistaken, suh," said he, drawing himself up, and thrusting one hand into the tightly-buttoned breast of his black prince albert, "entiahly mistaken in the premises; but i have the impression that diffe'ences of a pussonal nature ah in existence between youahself and a gentleman whose name in this connection i prefuh to leave unmentioned. such being the case, i assume that occasion may and naturally will arise foh the use of a friend, suh, who unde'stands the code--the code, suh--and is not without experience in affaiahs of honah. i recognize the fact that in cehtain exigencies nothing, by gad, but pistols, ovah a measu'ed distance, meets the case. in such an event, suh, i shall be mo' than happy to suhve you; mo' than happy, by the lord!" "captain," said jim feelingly, "you're a good fellow and a true friend, and i promise you i shall have no other second." "in that promise," replied the captain gravely, "you confeh an honah, suh!" after this it was thought wise to permit the papers to print the story of cornish's retirement; otherwise the captain might have fomented an insurrection. "the reasons for this step on the part of mr. cornish are purely personal," said the _herald_. "while retaining his feeling of interest in lattimore, his desire to engage in certain broader fields of promotion and development in the tropics had made it seem to him necessary to lay down the work here which up to this time he has so well done. he will still remain a citizen of our city. on the other hand, while we shall not lose mr. cornish, we shall gain the active and powerful influence of mr. charles harper, the president of the frugality and indemnity life insurance company. it is thus that lattimore rises constantly to higher prosperity, and wields greater and greater power. the remarkable activity lately noted in the local real-estate market, especially in the sales of unconsidered trifles of land at high prices, is to be attributed to the strengthening of conditions by these steps in the ascent of the ladder of progress." cornish, however, was not without his partisans. cecil barr-smith almost quarreled with antonia because she struck cornish off her books, cecil insisting that he was an entirely decent chap. in this position cecil was in accord with the clubmen of the younger sort, who had much in common with cornish, and little with the overworked and busy railway president. even giddings, to me, seemed to remain unduly intimate with cornish; but this did not affect the utterances of his paper, which still maintained what he called the policy of boost. the behavior of josie, however, was enigmatical. cornish's attentions to her redoubled, while jim seemed dropped out of the race--and therefore my wife's relations with miss trescott were subjected to a severe strain. naturally, being a matron, and of the age of thirty-odd years, she put on some airs with her younger friend, still in the chrysalis of maidenhood. sometimes, in a sweet sort of a way, she almost domineered over her. on this elkins-cornish matter, however, josie held her at arms' length, and refused to make her position plain; and alice nursed that simulated resentment which one dear friend sometimes feels toward another, because of a real or imagined breach of the obligations of reciprocity. one night, as we sat about the grate in the trescott library, some veiled insinuations on alice's part caused a turning of the worm. "if there is anything you want to say, alice," said josie, "there seems to be no good reason why you shouldn't speak out. i have asked your advice--yours and albert's--frequently, having really no one else to trust; and therefore i am willing to hear your reproof, if you have it for me. what is it?" "oh, josie," said i, seeking cover. "you are too sensitive. there isn't anything, is there, alice?" here i scowled violently, and shook my head at my wife; but all to no effect. "yes, there is," said alice. "we have a dear friend, the best in the world, and he has an enemy. the whole town is divided in allegiance between them, about nine on one side to one on the other--" "which proves nothing," said josie. "and now," alice went on, "you, who have had every opportunity of seeing, and ought to know, that one of them is, in every look, and thought, and act, a _man_, while the other is--" "a friend of mine and of my mother's," said josie; "please omit the character-sketch. and remember that i refuse even to consider these business differences. each claims to be right; and i shall judge them by other things." "business differences, indeed!" scoffed alice, albeit a little impressed by the girl's dignity. "as if you did not know what these differences came from! but it isn't because you remain neutral that we com--" "_you_ complain, alice," said i; "i am distinctly out of this." "that i complain, then," amended alice reproachfully. "it is because you dismiss the _man_ and keep the--other! you may say i have no right to be heard in this, but i'm going to complain josie trescott, just the same!" this seemed to approach actual conflict, and i was frightened. had it been two men, i should have thought nothing of it, but with women such differences cut deeper than with us. josie stepped to her writing-desk and took from it a letter. "we may as well clear this matter up," said she, "for it has stood between us for a long time. i think that mr. elkins will not feel that any confidences are violated by my showing you this--you who have been my dearest friends--" she stopped for no reason, unless it was agitation. "are," said i, "i hope, not 'have been.'" "well," said she, "read the letter, and then tell me who has been 'dismissed.'" i shrank from reading it; but alice was determined to know all. it was dated the day before i left new york. "dear josie," it read, "i have told you so many times that i love you that it is an old story to you; yet i must say it once more. until that night when we brought your father home, i was never able to understand why you would never say definitely yes or no to me; but i felt that you could not be expected to understand my feeling that the best years of our lives were wasting--you are so much younger than i--and so i hoped on. sometimes i feared that somebody else stood in the way, and do fear it now, but that alone would have been a much simpler thing, and of that i could not complain. but on that fearful night you said something which hurt me more than anything else could, because it was an accusation of which i could not clear myself in the court of my own conscience--except so far as to say that i never dreamed of doing your father anything but good. surely, surely you must feel this! "since that time, however, you have been so kind to me that i have become sure that you see that terrible tragedy as i do, and acquit me of all blame, except that of blindly setting in motion the machinery which did the awful deed. this is enough for you to forgive, god knows; but i have thought lately that you had forgiven it. you have been very kind and good to me, and your presence and influence have made me look at things in a different way from that of years ago, and i am now doing things which ought to be credited to you, so far as they are good. as for the bad, i must bear the blame myself!" thus far alice had read aloud. "don't, don't," said josie, hiding her face. "don't read it aloud, please!" "but now i am writing, not to explain anything which has taken place, but to set me right as to the future. you gave me reason to think, when we met, that i might have my answer. things which i cannot explain have occurred, which may turn out very evilly for me, and for any one connected with me. therefore, until this state of things passes, i shall not see you. i write this, not that i think you will care much, but that you may not believe that i have changed in my feelings toward you. if my time ever comes, and i believe it will, and that before very long, you will find me harder to dispose of without an answer than i have been in the past. i shall claim you in spite of every foe that may rise up to keep you from me. you may change, but i shall not. "'love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.' and mine will not alter. j. r. e." "my dear," said alice very humbly, "i beg your pardon. i have misjudged you. will you forgive me?" josie came to take her letter, and, in lieu of other answer, stood with her arm about alice's waist. "and now," said alice, "have you no other confidences for us?" "no!" she cried, "no! there is nothing more! nothing, absolutely nothing, believe me! but, now, confidence for confidence, albert, what is this great danger? is it anything for which any one here--for which i am to blame? does it threaten any one else? can't something be done about it? tell me, tell me!" "i think," said i, "that the letter was written before my telegram from new york came, and after--some great difficulties came upon us. i don't believe he would have written it five hours later; and i don't believe he would have written it to any one in anything but the depression of--the feeling he has for you." "if that is true," said she, "why does he still avoid me? why does he still avoid me? you have not told me all; or there is something you do not know." as we went home, alice kept referring to jim's letter, and was as much troubled by it as was josie. "how do you explain it?" she asked. "i explain it," said i, "by ranging it with the well-known phenomenon of the love-sick youth of all lands and in every time, who revels in the thought of incurring danger or death, and heralding the fact to his loved one. even jim is not exempt from the feelings of the boy who rejoices in delicious tears at the thought of being found cold and dead on the doorstep of the cruel maiden of his dreams. and that letter, with a slight substratum of fact, is the result. don't bother about it for a moment." this answer may not have been completely frank, or quite expressive of my views; but i was tired of the subject. it was hardly a time to play with mammets or to tilt with lips, and it seemed that the matter might wait. there was a good deal of the pettishness of nervousness among us at that time, and i had my full share of it. insomnia was prevalent, and gray hairs increased and multiplied. the time was drawing near for our meeting with pendleton in chicago. we had advices that he was coming in from the west, on his return from a long journey of inspection, and would pass over his pacific division. we asked him to run down to lattimore over our road, but smith answered that the running schedule could not be altered. there seemed to be no reason for doubting that the proposed contract would be ratified; for the last desperate rally on our part appeared to have put a crash out of the question, for some time at least. to him that hath shall be given; and so long as we were supposed to possess power, we felt that we were safe. yet the blow dealt by cornish had maimed us, no matter how well we hid our hurt; and we were all too keenly conscious of the law of the hunt, by which it is the wounded buffalo which is singled out and dragged down by the wolves. on wednesday jim and i were to start for chicago, where mr. pendleton would be found awaiting us. on sunday the weather, which had been cold and snowy for weeks, changed; and it blew from the southeast, raw and chill, but thawy. all day monday the warmth increased; and the farmers coming into town reported great ponds of water dammed up in the swales and hollows against the enormous snow-drifts. another warm day, and these waters would break through, and the streams would go free in freshets. tuesday dawned without a trace of frost, and still the strong warm wind blew; but now it was from the east, and as i left the carriage to enter my office i was wet by a scattering fall of rain. in a few moments, as i dictated my morning's letters, my stenographer called attention to the beating on the window of a strong and persistent downpour. elkins, too much engrossed in his thoughts to be able to confine himself to the details of his business, came into my office, where, sometimes sitting and sometimes walking uneasily about, he seemed to get some sort of comfort from my presence. he watched the rain, as one seeing visions. "by morning," said he, "there ought to be ducks in alderson's pond. can't we do our chores early and get into the blind before daylight, and lay for 'em?" "i heard canada geese honking overhead last night," said i. "what time last night?" "two o'clock." "well, that lets us out on the alderson's pond project," said he; "the boys who hunted there weren't out walking at two. in those days they slept. it can't be that we're the fellows.... why, there's antonia, coming in through the rain!" "i wonder," said i, "if la grippe isn't taking a bad turn with her father." she came in, shedding the rain from her mackintosh like a water-fowl, radiant with health and the air of outdoors. "gentlemen," said she gaily, "who but myself would come out in anything but a diving-suit to-day!" "it's almost an even thing," said jim, "between a calamity, which brings you, and good fortune, which keeps you away. i hope it's only your ordinary defiance of the elements." "the fact is," said she, "that it's a very funny errand. but don't laugh at me if it's absurd, please. it's about mr. cornish." "yes!" said jim, "what of him?" "you know papa has been kept in by la grippe for a day or so," she went on, "and we haven't been allowing people to see him very much; but mr. cornish has been in two or three times, and every time when he went away papa was nervous and feverish. to-day, after he left, papa asked--" here she looked at mr. elkins, as he stood gravely regarding her, and went on with redder cheeks--"asked me some questions, which led to a long talk between us, in which i found out that he has almost persuaded papa to--to change his business connections completely." "yes!" said jim. "change, how?" "why, that i didn't quite understand," said antonia, "except that there was logwood and mahogany and mexico in it, and--and that he had made papa feel very differently toward you. after what has taken place recently i knew that was wrong--you know papa is not as firm in his ideas as he used to be; and i felt that he--and you, were in danger, somehow. at first i was afraid of being laughed at--why, i'd rather you'd laugh at me than to look like _that_!" "you're a good girl, antonia," said jim, "and have done the right thing, and a great favor to us. thank you very much; and please excuse me a moment while i send a telegram. please wait until i come back." "no, i'm going, albert," said she, when he was gone to his own office. "but first you ought to know that man told papa something--about me." "how do you know about this?" said i. "papa asked me--if i had--any complaints to make--of mr. elkins's treatment of me! what do you suppose he dared to tell him?" "what did you tell your father?" i asked. "what could i tell him but 'no'?" she exclaimed. "and i just had a heart-to-heart talk with papa about mr. cornish and the way he has acted; and if his fever hadn't begun to run up so, i'd have got the rubber, or peruvian-bark idea, or whatever it was, entirely out of his mind. poor papa! it breaks my heart to see him changing so! and so i gave him a sleeping-capsule, and came down through this splendid rain; and now i'm going! but, mind, this last is a secret." and so she went away. "where's antonia?" asked jim, returning. "gone," said i. "i wanted to talk further about this matter." "i don't like it, jim. it means that the cruel war is not over." "wait until we pass wednesday," said jim, "and we'll wring his neck. what a poisonous devil, to try and wean from us, to his ruin, an old man in his dotage!--i wish antonia had stayed. i went out to set the boys wiring for news of washouts between here and chicago. we mustn't miss that trip, if we have to start to-night. this rain will make trouble with the track.--no, i don't like it, either. wasn't it thoughtful of antonia to come down! we can line hinckley up all right, now we know it; but if it had gone on--we can't stand a third solar-plexus blow...." the sky darkened, until we had to turn on the lights, and the rain fell more and more heavily. once or twice there were jarring rolls of distant thunder. to me there was something boding and ominous in the weather. the day wore on interminably in the quiet of a business office under such a sky. elkins sent in a telegram which he had received that no trouble with water was looked for along our way to chicago, which was by the halliday line. as the dark day was lowering down to its darker close, i went into president elkins's office to take him home with me. as i entered through my private door, i saw giddings coming in through the outer entrance. "say," said he, "i wanted to see you two together. i know you have some business with pendleton, and you've promised the boys a story for thursday or friday. now, you've been a little sore on me because i haven't absolutely cut cornish." "not at all," said jim. "you must have a poor opinion of our intelligence." "well, you had no cause to feel that way," he went on, "because, as a newspaperman, i'm supposed to have few friends and no enemies. besides, you can't tell what a man might sink to, deprived all at once of the friendship of three such men as you fellows!" "quite right," said i; "but get to the point." "i'm getting to it," said he. "i violate no confidence when i say that cornish has got it in for your crowd in great shape. the point is involved in that. i don't know what your little game is with old pendleton, but whatever it is, cornish thinks he can queer it, and at the same time reap some advantages from the old man, if he can have a few minutes' talk with pen before you do. and he's going to do it, if he can. now, i figure, with my usual correctness of ratiocination, that your scheme is going to be better for the town, and therefore for the _herald_, than his, and hence this disclosure, which i freely admit has some of the ear-marks of bad form. not that i blame cornish, or am saying anything against him, you know. his course is ideally iagoan: he stands in with pendleton, benefits himself, and gets even with you all at one fell--" "stop this chatter!" cried jim, flying at him and seizing him by the collar. "tell me how you know this, and how much you know!" "my god!" said giddings, his lightness all departed, "is it as vital as that? he told me himself. said it was something he wouldn't put on paper and must tell pendleton by word of mouth, and he's on the train that just pulled out for chicago." "he'll beat us there by twelve hours," said i, "and he can do all he threatens! jim, we're gone!" elkins leaped to the telephone and rang it furiously. there was the ring of command sounding through the clamor of desperate and dubious conflict in his voice. "give me the l. & g. w. dispatcher's office, quick!" said he. "i can't remember the number ... it's , four, two, naught. is this agnew? this is elkins talking. listen! without a moment's delay, i want you to find out when president pendleton's special, east-bound on his pacific division, passes elkins junction. i'm at my office, and will wait for the information here.... don't let me wait long, please, understand? and, say! call solan to the 'phone.... is this solan? mr. solan, get out the best engine you've got in the yards, couple to it a caboose, and put on a crew to make a run to elkins junction, as quick as god'll let you! do you understand? give me schwartz and his fireman.... yes, and corcoran, too. andy, this is a case of life and death--of life and death, do you understand? see that the line's clear, and no stops. i've got to connect east at elkins junction with a special on that line.... _got to_, d'ye see? have the special wait at the state street crossing until we come aboard!" chapter xxv. that last weird battle in the west. there was still some remnant of daylight left when we stepped from a closed carriage at the state street crossing and walked to the train prepared for us. the rain had all but ceased, and what there was came out of some northern quarter of the heavens mingled with stinging pellets of sleet, driven by a fierce gale. the turn of the storm had come, and i was wise enough in weather-lore to see that its rearguard was sweeping down upon us in all the bitterness of a winter's tempest. beyond the tracks i could see the murky water of brushy creek racing toward the river under the state street bridge. "i believe," said i, "that the surface-water from above is showing the flow from the flume." "yes," said jim absently, "it must be about ready to break up. i hope we can get out of the valley before dark." the engine stood ready, the superabundant power popping off in a deafening hiss. the fireman threw open the furnace-door and stoked the fire as we approached. engineer schwartz, the same who had pulled us over the road that first trip, was standing by his engine, talking with our old conductor, corcoran. "here's a message for you, mr. elkins," said corcoran, handing jim a yellow paper, "from agnew." we read it by corcoran's lantern, for it was getting dusky for the reading of telegraph operator's script. "water out over bottoms from hinckley to the hills," so went the message. "flood coming down valley. snow and drifting wind reported from elkins junction and josephine. look out for washouts, and culverts and bridges damaged by running ice and water. pendleton special fully up to running schedule, at willow springs." "who've you got up there, schwartz? oh, is that you, ole?" said mr. elkins. "good! boys, to-night our work has got to be done in time, or we might as well go to bed. it's a case of four aces or a four-flush, and no intermediate stations. mr. pendleton's special will pass the junction right around nine--not ten minutes either way. get us there before that. if you can do it safely, all right; but get us there. and remember that the regular rule in railroading is reversed to-night, and we are ready to take any chance rather than miss--_any_ chances, mind!" "we're ready and waiting, mr. elkins," said schwartz, "but you'll have to get on, you know. looks like there was time enough if we keep the wheels turning, but this snow and flood business may cut some figure. _any_ chances, i believe you said, sir. all right! ready when you are, jack." "all aboard!" sang out corcoran, and with a commonplace ding-dong of the bell, and an every-day hiss of steam, which seemed, somehow, out of keeping with the fearful and unprecedented exigency now upon us, we moved out through the yards, jolting over the frogs, out upon the main line; and soon began to feel a cheering acceleration in the recurrent sounds and shocks of our flight, as schwartz began rolling back the miles under his flying wheels. we sat in silence on the oil-cloth cushions of the seats which ran along the sides of the caboose. corcoran, the only person who shared the car with us, seemed to have some psychical consciousness of the peril which weighed down upon us, and moved quietly about the car, or sat in the cupola, as mute as we. there was no need for speech between my friend and me. our minds, strenuously awake, found a common conclusion in the very nature of the case. both doubtless had considered and rejected the idea of telegraphing pendleton to wait for us at the junction. no king upon his throne was more absolute than avery pendleton, and to ask him to waste a single quarter-hour of his time might give great offense to him whom we desired to find serene and complaisant. again, any apparent anxiety for haste, any symptom of an attempt to rush his line of defenses, would surely defeat its object. no, we must quietly and casually board his train, and secure the signing of the contract before we reached chicago, if possible. "you brought that paper, al?" said jim, as if my thoughts had been audible to him. "yes," said i, "it's here." "i think we'd better be on our way to st. louis," said he. "he can hardly refuse to oblige us by going through the form of signing, so as to let us turn south at the river." "very well," said i, "st. louis--yes." out past the old trescott farm, now covered with factories, cottages, and railway tracks, leaving lynhurst park off to our left, curving with the turnings of brushy creek valley, through which our engineers had found such easy grades, dropping the straggling suburbs of the city behind us, we flew along the rails in the waning twilight of this grewsome day. on the windward windows and the roof rattled fierce flights of sleet and showers of cinders from the engine. occasionally we felt the car sway in the howling gusts of wind, as we passed some opening in the hills and neared the more level prairie. stories of cars blown from the rails flitted through my mind; and in contemplating such an accident my thoughts busied themselves with the details of plans for getting free from the wrecked car, and pushing on with the engine, the derailing of which somehow never occurred to me. "we're slowing down!" cried jim, after a half-hour's run. "i wonder what's the matter!" "for god's sake, look ahead!" yelled corcoran, leaping down from the cupola and springing to the door. we followed him to the platform, and each of us ran down on the step and, swinging out by the hand-rail, peered ahead into the dusk, the sleet stinging our cheeks like shot. we were running along the right bank of the stream, at a point where the valley narrowed down to perhaps sixty rods of bottom. at the first dim look before us we could see nothing unusual, except that the background of the scene looked somehow as if lifted by a mirage. then i noticed that up the valley, instead of the ghostly suggestions of trees and hills which bounded the vista in other directions, there was an appearance like that seen on looking out to sea. "the flood!" said jim. "he's not going to stop, is he corcoran?" at this moment came at once the explanation of schwartz's hesitation and the answer to jim's question. we saw, reaching clear across the narrow bottom, a great wave of water, coming down the valley like a liquid wall, stretching across the track and seeming to forbid our further progress, while it advanced deliberately upon us, as if to drown engine and crew. driven on by the terrific gale, it boiled at its base, and curled forward at its foamy and wind-whipped crest, as if the upper waters were impatient of the slow speed of those below. beyond the wave, the valley, from bluff to bluff, was a sea, rolling white-capped waves. logs, planks, and the other flotsam of a freshet moved on in the van of the flood. it looked like the end of our run. what engineer would dare to dash on at such speed over a submerged track--possibly floated from its bed, possibly barricaded by driftwood? was not the wave high enough to put out the fires and kill the engine? as we met the roaring eagre we felt the engine leap, as schwartz's hesitation left him and he opened the throttle. like knight tilting against knight, wave and engine met. there was a hissing as of the plunging of a great red-hot bar into a vat. a roaring sheet of water, thrown into the air by our momentum, washed cab and tender and car, as a billow pours over a laboring ship; and we stood on the steps, drenched to the skin, the water swirling about our ankles as we rushed forward. then we heard the scream of triumph from the whistle, with which schwartz cheered us as the dripping train ran on through shallower and shallower water, and turning, after a mile or so, began climbing, dry-shod, the grade which led from the flooded valley and out upon the uplands. "come in, mr. elkins," said corcoran. "you'll both freeze out there, wet as you are." not until i heard this did i realize that we were still standing on the steps, our clothes congealing about us, peering through the now dense gloom ahead, as if for the apparition of some other grisly foe to daunt or drive us back. we went in, and sat down by the roaring fire, in spite of which a chill pervaded the car. we were now running over the divide between the valley we had just left and that of elk fork. up here on the highlands the wind more than ever roared and clutched at the corners of the car, and sometimes, as with the palm of a great hand, pressed us over, as if a giant were striving to overturn us. we could hear the engine struggling with the savage norther, like a runner breathing hard, as he nears exhaustion. presently i noticed fine particles of snow, driven into the car at the crevices, falling on my hands and face, and striking the hot stove with little hissing explosions of steam. "we're running into a blizzard up here," said corcoran. "it's a terror outside." "a terror; yes," said jim. "what sort of time are we making?" "just about holding our own," said corcoran. "not much to spare. got to stop at barslow for water. but there won't be any bad track from there on. this snow won't cut any figure for three hours yet, and mebbe not at all, there's so little of it." "kittrick has been asking for an appropriation to rebuild the elk fork trestle," said jim. "will it stand this flood?" "well," said corcoran, "if the water ain't too high, and the ice don't run too swift in the fork, it'll be all right. but if there's any such mixture of downpour and thaw as there was along the creek back there, we may have to jump across a gap. it'll probably be all right." i remembered the elk fork, and the trestle just on the hither side of the junction. i remembered the valley, green with trees, and populous with herds, winding down to the lake, and the pretty little town of josephine. i remembered that gala day when we christened it. i groaned in spirit, as i thought of finding the trestle gone, after our hundred-and-fifty-mile dash through storm and flood. yet i believed it would be gone. the blows showered upon us had beaten down my courage. i felt no shrinking from either struggle or danger; but this was merely the impulse which impels the soldier to fight on in despair, and sell his life dearly. i believed that ruin fronted us all; that our great system of enterprises was going down; that, east and west, where we had been so much courted and admired, we should become a by-word and a hissing. the elements were struggling against us. that vengeful flood had snatched at us, and barely missed; the ruthless hurricane was holding us back; and somehow fate would yet find means to lay us low. i had all day kept thinking of the lines: "nor ever yet had arthur fought a fight like this last dim, weird battle of the west. a death-white mist slept over land and sea: whereof the chill, to him who breathed it, drew down to his blood, till all his heat was cold with formless fear: and even on arthur fell confusion, since he saw not whom he fought." and this, thought i, was the end of the undertaking upon which we had entered so lightly, with frolic jests of piracy and spanish galleons and pieces-of-eight, and with all that mock-seriousness with which we discussed hypnotic suggestion and psychic force! the bitterness grew sickening, as corcoran, hearing the long whistle of the engine, said that we were coming into barslow. the tragic foolery of giving that name to any place! out upon the platform here, in the blinding whirl of snow. the night operator came out and talked to us of the news of the line, while the engine ran on to the tank for water. there was another telegram from agnew, saying that the pendleton special was on time, and that mr. kittrick was following us with another train "in case of need." the operator was full of wild stories of the brushy creek flood, caused by the thaw and the cloudburst. we cut him short in this narration, and asked him of the conditions along the elk fork. "she's up and boomin'," said he. "the trestle was most all under water an hour ago, and they say the ice was runnin' in blocks. you may find the track left without any underpinnin'. look out for yourselves." "al," said jim slowly, "can you fire an engine?" "i guess so," said i, seeing his meaning dimly. "why?" "al," said he, as if stating the conclusion of a complicated calculation, "we must run this train in alone!" i saw his intent fully, and knew why he walked so resolutely up to the engine, now backed down to take us on again. schwartz leaned out of his cab, a man of snow and ice. ole stood with his shovel in his hand white and icy like his brother worker. both had been drenched, as we had; but they had had no red-hot stove by which to sit; and buffeted by the blizzard and powdered by the snow, they had endured the benumbing cold of the hurricane-swept cab. "get down here, boys," said jim. "i want to talk with you." ole leaped lightly down, followed by schwartz, who hobbled laboriously, stiffened with cold. youth and violent labor had kept the fireman warm. "schwartz," said jim, "there is a chance that we'll find the trestle weakened and dangerous. we'll stop and examine it if we have time, but if it is as close a thing as i think it will be, we propose to make a run for it and take chances. barslow and i are the ones, and the only ones, who ought to do this, because we must make this connection. we can run the engine. you and ole and corcoran stay here. mr. kittrick will be along with another train in a few hours. uncouple the caboose and we'll run on." schwartz blew his nose with great deliberation. "ole," said he, "what d'ye think of the old man's scheme?" "ay tank," said ole, "dat bane hellufa notion!" "come," said mr. elkins, "we're losing time! uncouple at once!" we started to mount the engine; but schwartz and ole were before us, barring the way. "wait," said schwartz. "jest look at it, now. it's quite a run yet; and the chances are you'd have the cylinder-heads knocked out before you'd got half way; and then where'd you be with your connections?" "do you mean to say," said jim, "that there's any likelihood of the engine's dying on us between here and the junction?" "it's a cinch!" said schwartz. "for god's sake, then, let's get on!" said jim. "i believe you're lying to me, schwartz. but do this: as you come to the trestle, stop. from the approach we can see down the other track for ten miles. if pendleton's train is far enough off so as to give us time, we'll see how the bridge is before we cross. if we're pressed for time too much for this, promise me that you'll stop and let us run the engine across alone." "i'll think about it," said schwartz; "and if i conclude to, i will. it's got to clear up, if we can see even the headlight on the other road very far. ready, jack?" we wrung their hard and icy hands, leaped upon the train, and were away again, spinning down the grade toward the elk fork, and comforted by our speed. jim and i climbed into the cupola and watched the track ahead, and the two homely heroes in the cab, as the light from the furnace blazed out upon them from time to time. now we could see schwartz stoking, to warm himself; now we could see him looking at his watch and peering anxiously out before him. it was wearing on toward nine, and still our goal was miles away. overhead the sky was clearing, and we could see the stars; but down on the ground the light, new snow still glided whitely along before the lessening wind. once or twice we saw, or thought we saw, far ahead, lights, like those of a little prairie town. was it the junction? yes, said corcoran, when we called him to look; and now we saw that we were rising on the long approach to the trestle. would schwartz stop, or would he run desperately across, as he had dashed through the flood? that was with him. his hand was on the lever, and we were helpless; but, if there was time, it would be mere foolhardiness to go upon the trestle at any but the slowest speed, and without giving all but one an opportunity to walk across. one, surely, was enough to go down with the engine, if it, indeed, went down. "don't stay up there," shouted corcoran, "go out on the steps so you can jump for it if you have to!" out upon the platform we went in the biting wind, which still came fiercely on, sweeping over the waste of waters which covered the fields like a great lake. there was no sign of slowing down: right on, as if the road were rock-ballasted, and thrice secure, the engine drove toward the trestle. "she's there, anyhow, i b'lieve," said corcoran, swinging out and looking ahead; "but i wouldn't bet on how solid she is!" "can't you stop him?" said jim. "stop nothing!" said corcoran. "look over there!" we looked, and saw a light gleaming mistily, but distinct and unmistakable, across the water on the other track. it was the pendleton special! not much further from the station than were we, the train of moving palaces to which we were fighting our way was gliding to the point beyond which it must not pass without us. there was now no more thought of stopping; rather our desires yearned forward over the course, agonizing for greater speed. i did not see that we were actually upon the trestle until for some rods we had been running with the inky water only a few feet below us; but when i saw it my hopes leaped up, as i calculated the proportion of the peril which was passed. a moment more, and the solid approach would be under our spinning wheels. but the moment more was not to be given us! for, even as this joy rose in my breast, i felt a shock; i heard a confused sound of men's cries, and the shattering of timbers; the caboose whirled over cornerwise, throwing up into the air the step on which i stood; the sounds of the train went out in sudden silence as engine and car plunged off into the stream; and i felt the cold water close over me as i fell into the rushing flood. i arose and struck out for the shore; then i thought of jim. a few feet above me in the stream i saw something like a hand or foot flung up out of the water, and sucked down again. i turned as well as i could toward the spot, and collided with some object under the surface. i caught at it, felt the skirt of a garment in my hand, and knew it for a man. then, i remember helping myself with a plank from some washed-out bridge, and soon felt the ground under my feet, all the time clinging to my man. i tried to lift him out, but could not; and i locked my hands under his arm-pits and, slowly stepping backwards, i half carried, half dragged him, seeking a place where i could lay him down. i saw the dark line of the railroad grade, and made wearily toward it. i walked blindly into the water of the ditch beside the track, and had scarcely strength to pull myself and my burden out upon the bank. then i stopped and peered into his face, and saw uncertainly that it was jim--with a dark spot in the edge of the hair on his forehead, from which black streaks kept stealing down as i wiped them off; and with one arm which twisted unnaturally, and with a grating sound as i moved it; and from whom there came no other sound or movement whatever. and over across the stream gleamed the lights of the pendleton special as it sped away toward chicago. chapter xxvi. the end--and a beginning. as to our desperate run from lattimore to the place where it came to an end in a junk-heap which had been once an engine, a car reduced to matchwood, a broken trestle, and a chaos of crushed hopes, and of the return to our homes thereafter, no further details need be set forth. the papers in lattimore were filled with the story for a day or two, and i believe there were columns about it in the associated press reports. i doubt not that mr. pendleton and mr. cornish each read it in the morning papers, and that the latter explained it to the former in chicago. from these reports the future biographer may glean, if he happens to come into being and to care about it, certain interesting facts about the people of this history. he will learn that mr. barslow, having (with truly horatian swimming powers) rescued president elkins from a watery grave, waited with his unconscious derelict in great danger from freezing, until they were both rescued a second time by a crew of hand-car men who were near the trestle on special work connected with the flood and its ravages. that president elkins was terribly injured, having sustained a broken arm and a dangerous wound in the forehead. moreover, he was threatened with pneumonia from his exposure. should this disease really fasten itself upon him, his condition would be very critical indeed. that mr. barslow, the hero of the occasion, was uninjured. and i am ashamed to say that such student of history will find in an inconspicuous part of the same news-story, as if by reason of its lack of importance, the statement that o. hegvold, fireman, and j. j. corcoran, conductor of the wrecked train, escaped with slight injuries. and that julius schwartz, the engineer, living at may street, and the oldest engineer on the l. & g. w., being benumbed by the cold, sank like a stone and was drowned. poor schwartz! magnificent schwartz! no captain ever went down, refusing to leave the bridge of his sinking ship, with more heroism than he; who, clad in greasy overalls, and sapped of his strength by the icy hurricane, finding his homely duty inextricably entangled with death, calmly took them both, and went his way. this mine for the historian will also disclose to him the fact that the rescued crew and passengers were brought home by a relief-train in charge of general manager kittrick, and that mr. elkins was taken directly to the home of mr. barslow, where he at once became subject to the jurisdiction of physicians and nurses and "could not be seen." but as to the reasons for the insane dash in the dark the historian will look in vain. i am disposed now to think that our motives were entirely creditable; but for them we got no credit. much less than a nine days' wonder, however, was this tragedy of the elk fork trestle, for other sensations came tumbling in an army upon its very heels. times of war, great public calamities, and panic are the harvest seasons of the newspapers; and these were great days for the newspapers in lattimore. not that they learned or printed all the news. i received a telegram, for instance, the day after the accident, which merely entered up judgment on the verdict of the day before. it was a message from mr. pendleton in chicago. "in matter of lattimore & great western," this telegram read, "directors refuse to ratify contract. this sent to save you trip to chicago." "no news in that," said i to mr. hinckley; "i wonder that he bothered to send it." but, in the era of slug heads which set in about three days after, and while jim was still helpless up at my house, it would have received recognition as news--although they did very well without it. "great failure!" said the _times_. "grain belt trust company goes to the wall! business circles convulsed! receiver appointed at suit of charles harper of chicago! followed by assignment of hinckley & macdonald, bankers! western portland cement company assigns! atlas power company follows suit! reason, money tied up in banks and trust company. where will it stop? a veritable black friday!" thus the headlines. in the news report itself the _times_ remarked upon the intimate connection of mr. elkins and myself with all the failed concerns. the firm of elkins & barslow, being primarily a real-estate and insurance agency, would not assign. as to the condition of the business of james r. elkins & company, whose operations in bonds and debentures had been enormous, nothing could be learned on account of the critical illness of mr. elkins. "it is not thought," said the _herald_, "that the failures will carry down any other concerns. the run on the first national bank was one of those panicky symptoms which are dangerous because so unreasoning. it is to be hoped that it will not be renewed in the morning. the banks are not involved in the operations of the grain belt trust company, the failure of which, it must be admitted, is sure to cause serious disturbances, both locally and elsewhere, wherever its wide-spread operations have extended." the physical system adjusts itself to any permanent lesion in the body, and finally ceases even to send out its complaining messages of pain. so we in lattimore, who a few weeks ago had been ready to sacrifice anything for the keeping of our good name; who by stealth justly foreclosed mortgages justly due, lest the world should wonder at their nonpayment; who so greatly had rejoiced in our own strength; who had felt that, surely, we who had wrought such wonders could not now fail:--even we numbly came to regard receiverships and assignments as quite the thing to be expected. the fact that, all over the country, panic, ruin, and business stagnation were spreading like a pestilence, from just such centers of contagion as lattimore, made it easier for us. surely, we felt, nobody could justly blame us for being in the path of a tempest which, like a tropic cyclone, ravaged a continent. this may have been weak self-justification; but, even yet, when i think of the way we began, and how the wave of "prosperity" rose and rose, by acts in themselves, so far as we could see, in every way praiseworthy; how with us, and with people engaged in like operations everywhere, the most powerful passions of society came to aid our projects; how the winds from the unknown, the seismic throbbings of the earth, and the very stars in their courses fought for us; and when, at last, these mightinesses turned upon us the cold and evil eye of their displeasure, how the heaped-up sea came pouring over here, trickling through there, and seeping under yonder, until our great dike toppled over in baleful tumult, "and all the world was in the sea"; how business, east, west, north, and south, went paralyzed with fear and distrust, and old concerns went out like strings of soap-bubbles, and shocks of pain and disease went round the world, and everywhere there was that hellish and portentous thing known to the modern world only, and called a "commercial panic": when i broadly consider these things, i am not vain enough seriously to blame myself. these thoughts are more than ever in my mind to-day, as i look back over the decade of years which have elapsed since our waterloo at the elk fork trestle. i look out from the same library in which i once felt a sense of guilt at the expense of building it, and see the solid and prosperous town, almost as populous as we once saw it in our dreams. i am regarded locally as one of the creators of the city; but i know that this praise is as unmerited as was that blame of a dozen years ago. we rode on the crest of a wave, and we weltered in the trough of the sea; but we only seemed to create or control. i hold in my hand a letter from jim, received yesterday, and eloquent of the changes which have taken place. "i am sorry," says he, "to be unable to come to your business men's banquet. the building of a great auditorium in lattimore is proof that we weren't so insane, after all. i suppose that the ebb and flow of the tide of progress, which yearly gains upon the shore, is inevitable, as things are hooked up; but, after the ebb, it's comforting to see your old predictions as to gain coming true, even if you do find yourself in the discard. it would be worth the trip only to see captain tolliver, and to hear him eliminate the _r_'s from his mother tongue. give the dear old secesh my dearest love! "but i can't come, al. i must be in washington at that time on business of the greatest (presumptive) importance to the cattle interests of the buffalo-grass country. i could change my own dates; but my wife has arranged a tryst for a day certain with some specialists in her line in new york. she's quite the queen of the cattle range--in new york: and, to be dead truthful, she comes pretty near it out here. it is rumored that even the sheepmen speak well of her. "these eastern trips are great things for her and the children. i'm riding the range so constantly, and get so much fun out of it, that i feel sort of undressed and embarrassed out of the saddle. in washington i'm pointed out as a typical cowboy, the descendant of a spanish vaquero and a trapper's daughter. this helps me to represent my constituents in the sessions of the third house, and to get congressional attention to the ax i want ground. i am looked upon as in line for the presidency of the amalgamated association of american ax-grinders. "if we can make it, we'll look in on you on our way back; but we don't promise. with cattle scattered over two counties of buttes and canyons, we feel in a hurry when we get started home, after an absence sure to have been longer than we intended. then, you know how i feel;--i wish the old town well, but i don't enjoy _every_ incident of my visits there. "we expect to see the cecil barr-smiths in new york. cecil is the whole thing now with their companies--a sort of professional president in charge of the american properties; and mrs. cecil is as well known in some mighty good circles in london as she used to be in lynhurst park. "i am glad to know that things are going toward the good with you. personally, i never expect to be a seven-figure man again, and don't care to be. i prefer to look after my few thousands of steers, laying on four hundred pounds each per year, far from the madding crowd. you know riley's man who said that the little town of tailholt was good enough for him? well, that expresses my view of the 'j-up-and-down' ranch as a hermitage. it'll do quite well. but these eastern interests of mrs. jim are just now menacing to life in any hermitage. she has specifically stated on two or three occasions lately that this is no place to bring up a family. think of a rough-rider like me in the wilds of new york! i can see plenty of ways of amusing myself down there, but not such peaceful ways as putting on my six-shooters and going out after timber wolves or mountain lions, or our local representative of the clan of the hon. maverick brander. the future lowers dark with the multitudinous mouths of avenues of prosperity!" this letter was a disappointment to mr. giddings. his special edition of the _herald_ commemorative of the opening of our auditorium must now be deprived of its james r. elkins feature, so far as his being the guest of honor goes. but there will be jim's photograph on the first page, and a half-tone reproduction of a picture of the wreck at the elk fork trestle. "it is a matter of the deepest regret," said the _herald_ this morning, "that mr. elkins cannot be with us on this auspicious occasion. he was the head of that most remarkable group of men who laid the foundations of lattimore's greatness. only one of them, mr. barslow, still lives in lattimore, where he has devoted his life, since the crash of many years ago, to the reorganization of the failed concerns, and especially the grain belt trust company, and to the salving of their properties in the interests of the creditors. his present prominence grows out of the signal skill and ability with which he has done this work; and he must prove a great factor in the city's future development, as he has been in its past. mr. hinckley, the third member of the syndicate, now far advanced in years, is living happily with his daughter and her husband. the fourth, mr. cornish, resides in paris, where he is well known as a daring and successful financial operator. he, of all the syndicate, retired from the lattimore enterprises rich. "there have been years when the names of these men were not held in the respect and esteem they deserve. the town was going backward. people who had been rich were, many of them, in absolute distress for the necessaries of life. and these men, in a vague sort of way, were blamed for it. now, however, we can begin to see the wisdom of their plans and the vastness of the scope of their combinations. nothing but the element of time was wanting, abundantly to vindicate their judgment and sagacity. the industries they founded succeeded as soon as they were divorced from the real-estate speculation which unavoidably entered into their management at the outset. it is regrettable that their founders could not share in their success." "nothing but the element of time," said i to captain tolliver, who sat by me in the car as i read this editorial, "prevents the hot-air balloon from carrying its load over the rockies." "nothing but luck," said the captain, "evah could have beaten us. it was the fleischmann failure, and it was nothing else. as to the great qualities of mr. elkins, suh, the editorial puts it too mild by fah. he was a titan, suh, a titan, and we shall not look upon his like again. this town at this moment is vegetating fo' the want of some fo'ceful elkins to put life into it. the trilobites, as he so well dubbed them, ah in control again. what's this auditorium we've built? a good thing fo' the city, cehtainly, a ve'y good thing: but see the difficulty, the humiliatin' difficulty we had, in gettin' togethah the paltry and trivial hundred and fifty thousand dolla's! why in that elder day, in such a cause, we'd have called a meetin' in that old office of elkins & barslow's, and made it up out of ouah own funds in fifteen minutes. it's the so't of cattle we've got hyah as citizens that's handicappin' us; but in spite of this, suh, ouah unsuhpassed strategical position is winnin' fo' us. we ah just now on the eve of great developments, barslow, great developments! all my holdin's ah withdrawn from mahket until fu'theh notice. foh, as we ah so much behind the surroundin' country in growth, we must soon take a great leap fo'wahd. we ah past the boom stage, i thank god, and what we ah now goin' to get is a rathah brisk but entiahly healthy growth. a good, healthy growth, barslow, and no boom!" the disposition to moralize comes on with advancing middle age, and i could not help philosophizing on this perennial optimism of the captain's. he had used these very words when, so long ago, we had begun our "cruise." the financial cycle was complete. the world had passed from hope to intoxication, from intoxication to panic, from panic to the depths, from this depression, ascending the long slope of gradual recovery, to the uplands of hope once more. now, as twenty years ago, this feeling covered the whole world, was most pronounced in the newer and more progressive lands, and was voiced by captain tolliver, the grizzled swashbuckler of the land market. in it i recognized the ripple on the sands heralding the approach of another wave of speculation, which must roll shoreward in splendor and might, and, like its predecessors, must spend itself in thunderous ruin. i often think of what general lattimore was accustomed to say about these matters, and how josie echoed his words as to the evil of fortunes coming to those who never earned them. some time, i hope, we shall grow wise enough to-- i humbly beg your pardon, madam, and thank you. that charming gesture of impatience was the one thing needful to admonish me that lectures are dull, and that the time has come to write _finis_. the rest of the story? cornish--jim--josie--antonia? oh, this proneness of the business man to talk shop! left to myself, i should have allowed their history to remain to the end of time, unresolved as to entanglements, and them unhealed as to bruises, bodily and sentimental. and, yet, those were the things which most filled our minds in the dark days after we missed connection with the pendleton special. in the first spasm of the crisis i was more concerned for jim's safety than with the long-feared monetary cataclysm. _that_ was upon us in such power as to make us helpless; but jim, wounded and prostrated as he was, his very life in danger, was a concrete subject of anxiety and a comfortingly promising object of care. "if we can keep this from assuming the character of true pneumonia," said dr. aylesbury, "there's no reason why he shouldn't recover." he had been unconscious and then delirious from the time when he and i had been picked up there by the railroad-dump, until we were well on our way home on kittrick's relief-train. at last he looked about him, and his eyes rested on corcoran. "hello, jack!" said he weakly; and as his glance took in ole, he smiled and said: "a hellufa notion, you tank, do you? ole, where's schwartz?" ole twisted and squirmed, but found no words. "we couldn't find schwartz," said kittrick. "he was so cold, he went right down with the cab." "i see," said jim. "it was bitter cold!" he said no more. i wondered at this, and almost blamed him, even in his stricken state, for not feeling the peculiar poignancy of our regret for the loss of schwartz. and then, his face being turned away, i peeped over to see if he slept, and saw where his tears had dropped silently on the piled-up cushions of his couch. * * * * * mrs. trescott came several times a day to inquire as to mr. elkins's welfare; but josie not at all. antonia's carriage stopped often at the door; and somebody stood always at the telephone, answering the stream of questions. but when, on that third evening, it became known that the last "battle in the west" had gone against us, that all our great round table was dissolved, and that jim's was a sinking and not a rising sun, public interest suddenly fell off. and the poor fellow whose word but yesterday might have stood against the world, now lay there fighting for very life, and few so poor to do him reverence. i had been so proud of his splendid and dominant strength that this, i think, was the thing that brought the bitterness of failure most keenly home to me. i could not feel satisfied with josie. there were good reasons why she might have refused to choose between jim and the man who had ruined him, while there was danger of her choice itself becoming the occasion of war between them. but that was over now, and cornish was victorious. gradually the fear grew upon me that we had rated josie's womanhood higher than she herself held it, and that cornish was to win her also. he had that magnetism which so attracted her as a girl, but that i had believed incapable of holding her as a woman. and now he had wealth, and jim was poor, and the whole world stood with its back to us, and josie held aloof. i was afraid he would speak of it, every time he tried to talk. that night when the evening papers came out with all their plenitude of bad news (for we had pleased watson by dying on the evening papers' time), it was a dark moment for us. jim lay silent and unmoving, as if all his ebullient energy had gone forever. the physician omitted the dressing of his wound, because, he said, he feared the patient was not strong enough to bear it: and this, as well as the strange semi-stupor of the sufferer, frightened me. jim had said little, and most of his words had been of the trivial things of the sick-room. only once did he refer to the great affairs in which we had been for so long engrossed. "what day is this?" he asked. "friday," said i, "the twenty-first." "by this time," said he feebly, "we must be pretty well shot to rags." "never mind about that," said i, holding his hands in mine. "never mind, jim!" "some of those gophers," said he, after a while, "used to learn to ... rub their noses ... in the dirt ... and always stick their heads up--outside the snare!" "yes," said i, "i remember. go to sleep, old man!" i thought him delirious, and he knew and resented it; being evidently convinced that he had just made a wise remark. it touched me to hear him, even in his extremity, return to those boyhood days when we trapped and hunted and fished together. he saw my pitying look. "i'm all right," said he; but he said no more. the nurse came in, and told me that mrs. barslow wished to see me in the library. i went down, and found josie and alice together. "i got a letter from--from mr. cornish," said she, "telling me that he was returning from chicago to-night, and was coming to see me. i ran over, because--and told mamma to say that i couldn't see him." "see him by all means," said i with some bitterness. "you should make it a point to see him. mr. cornish is a success. he alone of us all has shown real greatness." and it dawned upon me, as i said it, what jim had meant by his reference to the gopher which learns to stick its head up "outside the snare." "i want to ask you," said josie, "is it all true--what was in the paper to-night about all of you, mr. hinckley and yourself, and--all of you having failed?" "it is only a part of the truth," i replied. "we are ruined absolutely." she said nothing by way of condolence, and uttered no expressions of regret or sympathy. she was apparently in a state of suppressed excitement, and started at sounds and movements. "is mr. elkins very ill?" said she at length. "so ill," said alice, "that unless he rallies soon, we shall look for the worst." no more at this than at the other ill news did josie express any regret or concern. she sat with her fingers clasped together, gazing before her at the fire in the grate, as if making some deep and abstruse calculation. but when the door-bell rang, she started and listened attentively, as the servant went to the door, and then returned to us. "a gentleman, mr. cornish, to see miss trescott," said the maid. "and he says he must see her for a moment." "alice," said josie, under her breath, "you go, please! say to him that i cannot see him--now! oh, why did he follow me here?" "josie," said alice dramatically, "you don't mean to say that you are afraid of this man! are you?" "no, no!" said the girl doubtfully and distressfully; "but it's so hard to say 'no' to him! if you only knew all, alice, you wouldn't blame me--and you'd go!" "if you're so far gone--under his influence," said alice, "that you can't trust yourself to say 'no,' josephine trescott, go, in heaven's name, and say 'yes,' and be the wife of a millionaire--and a traitor and scoundrel!" as alice said this she came perilously near the histrionic standard of the tragic stage. josie rose, looked at her in surprise, in which there seemed to be some defiance, and walked steadily out to the parlor. i was glad to be out of the affair, and went back to jim. i stood regarding my broken and forsaken friend, in watching whose uneasy sleep i forgot the crisis downstairs, when i was startled and angered by the slamming of the front door, and heard a carriage rattle furiously away down the street. soon i heard the rustle of skirts, and looked up, thinking to see my wife. but it was josie. she came in, as if she were the regularly ordained nurse, and stepped to the bedside of the sleeping patient. the broken arm in its swathings lay partly uncovered; and across his wounded brow was stretched a broad bandage, below which his face showed pale and weary-looking, in the half-stupor of his deathlike slumber: for he had become strangely quiet. his uninjured arm lay inertly on the counterpane beside him. she took his hand, and, seating herself on the bed, began softly stroking and patting the hand, gazing all the time in his face. he stirred, and, turning his eyes toward her, awoke. "don't move, my darling," said she quietly, and as if she had been for a long, long time quite in the habit of so speaking to him; "don't move, or you'll hurt your arm." then she bent down her head, lower and lower, until her cheek touched his. "i've come to sit with you, jim, dear," said she, softly--"if you want me--if i can do you any good." "i want you, always," said he. she stooped again, and this time laid her lips lingeringly on his; and his arm stole about the slim waist. "if you'll just get well," she whispered, "you may have me--always!" he passed his fingers over her hair, and kissed her again and again. then he looked at her long and earnestly. "where's al?" said he; "i want al!" i came forward promptly. i thought that this violation of the doctor's regulation requiring rest and quiet had gone quite far enough. "al," said he, still holding her hand, "do you remember out there by the windmill tower that night, and the petunias and four-o'clocks?" "yes, jim, i remember," said i. "but you mustn't talk any more now." "no, i won't," said he, and went right on; "but even before that, and ever since, i haven't wanted anything we've been trying so hard to get, half as much as i've wanted josie; and now--we lost the fight, didn't we? things have been slipping away from us, haven't they? gone, aren't they?" "go to sleep now, jim," said i. "plenty of time for those things when you wake up." "yes," said he; "but before i do, i want you to tell me one thing, honest injun, hope to die, you know!" "yes," said i; "what is it, jim?" "i've been seeing a lot of funny things in the dark corners about here; but this seems more real than any of them," he went on; "and i want you to tell me--_is this really josie_?" "really," i assured him, "really, it is." "oh, jim, jim!" she cried, "have you learned to doubt my reality, just because i'm kind! why, i'm going to be good to you now, dearest, always, always! and kinder than you ever dreamed, jim. and i'm going to show you that everything has not slipped away from you, my poor, poor boy; and that, whatever may come, i shall be with you always. only get well; only get well!" "josie," said he, smiling wanly, "you couldn't kill me--now--not with an ax!" the end. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ famous copyright books in popular priced editions re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. library size. printed on excellent paper--most of them with illustrations of marked beauty--and handsomely bound in cloth. price, cents a volume, postpaid. the circular staircase, by mary roberts reinhart with illustrations by lester ralph. in an extended notice the _new york sun_ says: "to readers who care for a really good detective story 'the circular staircase' can be recommended without reservation." the _philadelphia record_ declares that "the circular staircase" deserves the laurels for thrills, for weirdness and things unexplained and inexplicable. the red year, by louis tracy "mr. tracy gives by far the most realistic and impressive pictures of the horrors and heroisms of the indian mutiny that has been available in any book of the kind * * * there has not been in modern times in the history of any land scenes so fearful, so picturesque, so dramatic, and mr. tracy draws them as with the pencil of a verestschagin of the pen of a sienkiewics." arms and the woman, by harold macgrath with inlay cover in colors by harrison fisher. the story is a blending of the romance and adventure of the middle ages with nineteenth century men and women; and they are creations of flesh and blood, and not mere pictures of past centuries. the story is about jack winthrop, a newspaper man. mr. macgrath's finest bit of character drawing is seen in hillars, the broken down newspaper man, and jack's chum. love is the sum of it all, by geo. cary eggleston with illustrations by hermann heyer. in this "plantation romance" mr. eggleston has resumed the manner and method that made his "dorothy south" one of the most famous books of its time. there are three tender love stories embodied in it, and two unusually interesting heroines, utterly unlike each other, but each possessed of a peculiar fascination which wins and holds the reader's sympathy. a pleasing vein of gentle humor runs through the work, but the "sum of it all" is an intensely sympathetic love story. hearts and the cross, by harold morton cramer with illustrations by harold matthews brett. the hero is an unconventional preacher who follows the line of the man of galilee, associating with the lowly, and working for them in the ways that may best serve them. he is not recognized at his real value except by the one woman who saw clearly. their love story is one of the refreshing things in recent fiction. grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york ------------------------------------------------------------------------ famous copyright books in popular priced editions re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. library size. printed on excellent paper--most of them with illustrations of marked beauty--and handsomely bound in cloth. price, cents a volume, postpaid. new chronicles of rebecca, by kate douglas wiggin with illustrations by f. c. yohn additional episodes in the girlhood of the delightful little heroine at riverboro which were not included in the story of "rebecca of sunnybrook farm," and they are as characteristic and delightful as any part of that famous story. rebecca is as distinct a creation in the second volume as in the first. the silver butterfly, by mrs. wilson woodrow with illustrations in colors by howard chandler christy. a story of love and mystery, full of color, charm, and vivacity, dealing with a south american mine, rich beyond dreams, and of a new york maiden, beyond dreams beautiful--both known as the silver butterfly. _well named is the silver butterfly!_ there could not be a better symbol of the darting swiftness, the eager love plot, the elusive mystery and the flashing wit. beatrix of clare, by john reed scott with illustrations by clarence f. underwood. a spirited and irresistibly attractive historical romance of the fifteenth century, boldly conceived and skilfully carried out. in the hero and heroine mr. scott has created a pair whose mingled emotions and alternating hopes and fears will find a welcome in many lovers of the present hour. beatrix is a fascinating daughter of eve. a little brother of the rich, by joseph medill patterson frontispiece by hazel martyn trudeau, and illustrations by walter dean goldbeck. tells the story of the idle rich, and is a vivid and truthful picture of society and stage life written by one who is himself a conspicuous member of the western millionaire class. full of grim satire, caustic wit and flashing epigrams. "is sensational to a degree in its theme, daring in its treatment, lashing society as it was never scourged before."--new york sun. grosset & dunlap, publishers, new york ------------------------------------------------------------------------ famous copyright books in popular priced editions re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. library size. printed on excellent paper--most of them with illustrations of marked beauty--and handsomely bound in cloth. price, cents a volume, postpaid. the fair god; or, the last of the tzins. by lew wallace. with illustrations by eric pape. "the story tells of the love of a native princess for alvarado, and it is worked out with all of wallace's skill * * * it gives a fine picture of the heroism of the spanish conquerors and of the culture and nobility of the aztecs."--_new york commercial advertiser_. "_ben hur_ sold enormously, but _the fair god_ was the best of the general's stories--a powerful and romantic treatment of the defeat of montezuma by cortes."--_athenæum_. the captain of the kansas. by louis tracy. a story of love and the salt sea--of a helpless ship whirled into the hands of cannibal fuegians--of desperate fighting and tender romance, enhanced by the art of a master of story telling who describes with his wonted felicity and power of holding the reader's attention * * * filled with the swing of adventure. a midnight guest. a detective story. by fred m. white. with a frontispiece. the scene of the story centers in london and italy. the book is skilfully written and makes one of the most baffling, mystifying, exciting detective stories ever written--cleverly keeping the suspense and mystery intact until the surprising discoveries which precede the end. the honour of savelli. a romance. by s. levett yeats. with cover and wrapper in four colors. those who enjoyed stanley weyman's _a gentleman of france_ will be engrossed and captivated by this delightful romance of italian history. it is replete with exciting episodes, hair-breath escapes, magnificent sword-play, and deals with the agitating times in italian history when alexander ii was pope and the famous and infamous borgias were tottering to their fall. sister carrie. by theodore drieser. with a frontispiece, and wrapper in color. in all fiction there is probably no more graphic and poignant study of the way in which man loses his grip on life, lets his pride, his courage, his self-respect slip from him, and, finally, even ceases to struggle in the mire that has engulfed him. * * * there is more tonic value in _sister carrie_ than in a whole shelfful of sermons. grosset & dunlap--new york. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ famous copyright books in popular priced editions re-issues of the great literary successes of the time. library size. printed on excellent paper--most of them with illustrations of marked beauty--and handsomely bound in cloth. price, cents a volume, postpaid. lavender and old lace. by myrtle reed. a charming story of a quaint corner of new england where bygone romance finds a modern parallel. one of the prettiest, sweetest, and quaintest of old-fashioned love stories * * * a rare book, exquisite in spirit and conception, full of delicate fancy, of tenderness, of delightful humor and spontaneity. a dainty volume, especially suitable for a gift. doctor luke of the labrador. by norman duncan. with a frontispiece and inlay cover. how the doctor came to the bleak labrador coast and there in saving life made expiation. in dignity, simplicity, humor, in sympathetic etching of a sturdy fisher people, and above all in the echoes of the sea, _doctor luke_ is worthy of great praise. character, humor, poignant pathos, and the sad grotesque conjunctions of old and new civilizations are expressed through the medium of a style that has distinction and strikes a note of rare personality. the day's work. by rudyard kipling. illustrated. the _london morning post_ says: "it would be hard to find better reading * * * the book is so varied, so full of color and life from end to end, that few who read the first two or three stories will lay it down till they have read the last--and the last is a veritable gem gem * * * contains some of the best of his highly vivid work * * * kipling is a born story-teller and a man of humor into the bargain." eleanor lee. by margaret e. sangster. with a frontispiece. a story of married life, and attractive picture of wedded bliss * * * an entertaining story of a man's redemption through a woman's love * * * no one who knows anything of marriage or parenthood can read this story with eyes that are always dry * * * goes straight to the heart of every one who knows the meaning of "love" and "home." the colonel of the red huzzars. by john reed scott. illustrated by clarence f. underwood. "full of absorbing charm, sustained interest, and a wealth of thrilling and romantic situations. so naively fresh in its handling, so plausible through its naturalness, that it comes like a mountain breeze across the far-spreading desert of similar romances."--_gazette-times, pittsburg_. "a slap-dashing day romance."--_new york sun_. grosset & dunlap--new york. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ _caleb wright_ _caleb wright_ _a story of the west_ _by john habberton_ _author of_ _"helen's babies" "the jericho road" etc._ _boston lothrop publishing company_ _copyright, , by lothrop publishing company._ _all rights reserved_ _entered at stationers' hall_ _norwood press j. s. cushing & co.--berwick & smith norwood, mass._ _contents_ _chapter_ _page_ _i._ _their fortune_ _ii._ _taking possession_ _iii._ _introduced_ _iv._ _home-making_ _v._ _business ways_ _vi._ _the unexpected_ _vii._ _an active partner_ _viii._ _the pork-house_ _ix._ _a western spectre_ _x._ _she wanted to know_ _xi._ _caleb's newest project_ _xii._ _deferred hopes_ _xiii._ _farmers' ways_ _xiv._ _fun with a camera_ _xv._ _cause and effect_ _xvi._ _decoration day_ _xvii._ _foreign invasion_ _xviii._ _the tabby party_ _xix._ _days in the store_ _xx._ _profit and loss_ _xxi._ _cupid and corn-meal_ _xxii._ _some ways of the west_ _xxiii._ _after the storm_ _xxiv._ _how it came about_ _xxv._ _looking ahead_ _xxvi._ _the railway_ _xxvii._ _conclusion_ _caleb wright_ i--their fortune all people who have more taste than money are as one in the conviction that people with less money than taste suffer more keenly day by day, week by week, year by year, than any other class of human beings. of this kind of sufferer was philip somerton, a young man who had strayed from a far-western country town to new york to develop his individuality and make his fortune, but especially to enjoy the facilities which a great city offers (as every one knows, except the impecunious persons who have tried it) to all whose hearts hunger for whatever is beautiful, refining, and also enjoyable. to some extent philip had succeeded, for he quickly adapted himself to his new surroundings; and as he was intelligent, industrious, and of good habits, he soon secured a clerkship which enabled him to pay for food, shelter, and clothing, and still have money enough for occasional books and music and theatre tickets, and to purchase a few articles of a class over which the art editor of philip's favorite morning newspaper raved delightfully by the column. several years later he was still more fortunate; for he met grace brymme, a handsome young woman who had quite as much intelligence and taste as he, and who, like philip, had been reared in a country town. that in new york she was a saleswoman in a great shop called a "department store" was not in the least to her discredit; for she was an orphan, and poor, and with too much respect to allow herself to be supported by relatives as poor as she, or to be "married off" for the sole purpose of securing a home. when philip declared his love and blamed himself for having formed so strong an attachment before he had become financially able to support a wife in the style to which his sweetheart's refinement and cleverness entitled her, the young woman, who was quite as deep in love as he, replied that in so large a city no one knew the affairs of inconspicuous people, so there was no reason why they should not marry, and she retain her business position and salary under the only name by which her employers and business associates would know her, and together they would earn a modest competence against the glorious by and by. so they married, and told only their relatives, none of whom was in new york, and out of business hours the couple occupied a small apartment and a large section of paradise, and together they enjoyed plays and concerts and pictures and books and bric-à-brac as they had never imagined possible when they were single; and when there was nothing special in the outer world to hold their attention they enjoyed each other as only warm-hearted and adaptive married people can. but marriage has no end of unforeseen mysteries for people who really love each other, and some of these obtruded themselves unexpectedly upon philip and grace, and gave the young people some serious moments, hours, and days. at first these disturbers were repelled temporarily by gales of kisses and caresses, but afterwards grace's warm brown eyes would look deeper than they habitually were, and philip would feel as if he had lost the power of speech. it was merely that each wished to be more and do more for the sake of the other. philip knew that grace was the sweetest, handsomest, cleverest, noblest woman in the world, and that the world at large had the right to know it. grace thought philip competent to illumine any social circle, and to become a leader among men; but how was the world to know of it while he and she were compelled to remain buried alive in a city in which no one knew his next-door neighbor except by sight? in her native village deserving young men frequently became partners of their employers, but philip assured her that in new york no such recognition could be expected. the best he could hope for was to retain his position, be slowly promoted, and some day rank with the highest clerks. one evening philip, who ordinarily reached home later than his wife, stood in the door of the apartment when grace appeared. he quieted the young woman with a rapturous smile, and said, with much lover-like punctuation:-- "all of our troubles are ended, dear girl. we can live as we wish, and buy everything we wish. to-night--at once, if you like--we can afford to tell the whole world that we are no longer a mere clerk and a saleswoman." grace at once looked more radiant than her husband had ever seen her; she exclaimed:-- "oh, phil! tell me all about it! quick!" "i will, my dear, if you'll loosen your arms--or one of them--for a moment, so that i can get my hand into my pocket. i've inherited old uncle jethro's property. i don't know how much it amounts to, but he was a well-to-do country merchant, and here's a single check, on account, for a thousand dollars." "phil!" exclaimed grace, placing her hands on her husband's face and pushing it gently backward, while her cheeks glowed, and her lips parted, and her eyes seemed to melt. "that makes me far happier than i was," said phil, "though i didn't suppose that could be possible. your face is outdoing itself. i didn't suppose money could make so great a difference in it." "'tisn't the money," grace replied slowly, "and yet, i suppose it is. but we won't reason about it now. we can do what we most wish--tell the world that we're married; for that, i'd gladly have become a beggar. but do tell me all about it." philip placed his wife in an easy chair, took a letter from his pocket, and said:-- "i suppose this will explain all more quickly than i could tell it. 'tis a lawyer's letter. listen:-- "'philip somerton, esq.,-- "'dear sir: we are charged to inform you that your uncle, jethro somerton, died a few days ago, and made you the sole beneficiary of his will, on condition that you at once proceed to claybanks, and assume charge of the general store and other business interests that were his, and that you provide for his clerk, caleb wright, for the remainder of said wright's natural life, and to the satisfaction of the said wright. in the event of any of these stipulations not being met, the entire property is to be divided among several (specified) benevolent associations, subject to a life annuity to caleb wright, and you are to retire from the business without taking any of the proceeds. "'by the terms of the will we are instructed, (through your late uncle's local attorney) to send you the enclosed check for one thousand ($ ) dollars, to provide for the expenses of your trip to claybanks, and to enable you to procure such things as you may wish to take with you, the claybanks stores not being stocked with a view to the trade of city people; but our bank will defer payment of the same until we are in receipt of enclosed acknowledgment, duly signed before a notary public, of your acceptance under the terms of your uncle's will, a copy of which we enclose. "'yours truly, "'trace & stubb, "'_for counsel of jethro somerton, deceased_.'" "how strange!" murmured grace, who seemed to be in a brown study. "is that all it is?" asked phil. "no, you silly dear; you know it isn't. but you've scarcely ever mentioned your uncle to me; now it appears that you must have been very dear to him. i can't understand it." "can't, eh? that's somewhat uncomplimentary to me. i suppose the truth is that uncle jethro couldn't think of any one else to leave his money to; for he was a widower and childless. my dear dead-and-gone father was his only brother, and he had no sisters, so i'm the only remaining male member of the family." "but what sort of man was he? do tell me something about him." "i wish i knew a lot of pleasant things to tell, but i know little of him except what i heard when i was a boy. father, in whom family affection was very strong, loved him dearly, yet used to be greatly provoked by him at times; for uncle's only thought was of money--perhaps because he had nothing else to think of, and he wrote advice persistently, with the manner of an elder brother--a man whose advice should be taken as a command. when i started east i stopped off and tramped three miles across country to call on him, for the letter he wrote us when father died was a masterpiece of affection and appreciation. i had never seen him, and i'm ashamed to say, after what has just occurred, that after our first interview i had no desire to see him again. his greeting was fervent only in curiosity; he studied my face as if i were a possible customer who might not be entirely trustworthy. then he made haste to tell me, with many details, that he was the principal merchant and business man in the county, where he had started thirty years before, with no capital but his muscles and wits. he intimated that if i cared to remain with him a few months on trial, and succeeded in impressing him favorably, i might in time earn an interest in his business; but i thought i had seen enough of country stores and country ways to last me for life; so i made the excuse that as my parents were dead and my sisters married, i felt justified in going to new york to continue my studies. when he asked me what i was studying, i was obliged to reply, 'literature and art,' at which statement he sneered--i may say truthfully that he snorted--and at once became cooler than before; so i improved my first opportunity, between customers' visits, to say that it was time for me to be starting back to the railway station. in justice to myself, however, as well as to him, i could not start without telling him how greatly his letter about my father had affected me. for a moment he was silent: he looked thoughtful, and as tender, i suppose, as a burly, hard-natured man could look; then he said:-- "'your father was one of the very elect, but--' "i quickly interrupted with, 'i'm not very religious, but i won't listen to a word of criticism of one of the elect--least of all, of my father. good by, uncle.' he made haste to say that the only two men of the somerton family shouldn't part in anger; and when he learned that i had walked three miles through the darkness and november mud, and intended to walk back to the station, he told a man who seemed to be his clerk,--caleb wright, evidently the man mentioned in this extraordinary letter,--to get out some sort of conveyance and drive me over. while caleb was at the stables, my uncle questioned me closely as to my capital and business prospects. i was not going to be outdone in personal pride, so i replied that, except for some mining stocks which some one had imposed upon my father, and were down to two cents per share, i'd exactly what he had told me he began with,--muscle and wits. he saw that i had no overcoat,--boys and young men in our part of the country seldom had them,--so he pressed one upon me, and when i tried to decline it, he said, 'for my dead brother's sake,' which broke me down. when i reached the train, i found in the overcoat pockets some handkerchiefs, gloves, hosiery, neckwear, and several kinds of patent medicines, which evidently he thought trustworthy; there was also a portemonnaie containing a few small notes and some coin. i wrote, thanking him, as soon as i found employment; but he never answered my letter, so i was obliged to assume that he had repented of his generosity and wished no further communication with me." "how strange! but the man--caleb--who drove you to the station, and who seems to be a life pensioner on the estate, and is to be dependent upon us,--how did he impress you?" "i scarcely remember him, except as a small man with a small face, small beard, a small gentle voice, and pleasanter eyes than country clerks usually have. i remember that his manner seemed very kindly,--after my experience with my uncle's,--and he said a clever or quaint thing once in a while, as any other countryman might have done. for the rest, he is a civil war veteran, and about forty years of age--perhaps less, for beards make men look older than they are." "and the town with the odd name--claybanks?" "i saw it only in the dark, which means i didn't see it at all. i believe 'tis the county town, and probably it doesn't differ much from other western villages of a thousand or two people. 'twill be a frightful change from new york, dear girl, for you." "you will be there," replied grace, with a look that quickly brought her husband's arms around her. "and you will be prominent among men, instead of merely one man among a dozen in a great office. every one will know my husband; he won't any longer go to and from business as unknown as any mere nobody, as you and most other men do in new york. 'tis simply ridiculous--'tis unnatural, and entirely wrong, that my husband's many clever, splendid qualities aren't known and put to their proper uses. you ought to be the manager of the firm you are with, instead of a mere clerk. i want other people to understand you, and admire you, just as i do, but no one is any one in this great crowded, lonely, dreadful city." "there, there!" said philip. "don't make me conceited. besides, we've neglected that check for at least ten minutes. let's have another look at it. a thousand dollars!--as much money as both of us have had to spend in a year, after paying our rent! a tenth part of it will be more than enough to take us and our belongings to claybanks; with the other nine hundred we'll buy a lot of things with which to delight ourselves and astonish the natives,--silk dresses and other adornments for you, likewise a piano, to replace the one we have been hiring, and some pictures, and bric-à-brac, and we'll subscribe to a lot of magazines, and--" "but suppose," said grace, "that after reaching there you find the business difficult or unendurable, and wish to come back to new york?" "never fear for me! i'm concerned only for you, dear girl. i know western country places, having been brought up in one; i know the people, and among them you will take place at once as a queen. but queens are not always the most contented of creatures. their subjects may not be--" "if my first and dearest subject remains happy," said grace, "i shall have no excuse for complaining." ii--taking possession the ensuing week was a busy one for philip and grace; for to announce an unsuspected marriage and a coming departure at one and the same time to two sets of acquaintances is no ordinary task, even to two social nobodies in new york. besides, philip had lost no time in making the legal acknowledgment that was requisite to the cashing of his check, and in spending a portion of the proceeds. a short letter came from caleb wright, enclosing one almost equally short from the late jethro somerton, which assured philip of caleb's honesty and general trustworthiness, and that the business would not suffer for a few days. "caleb is a far better and broader man than i," philip's uncle had written, "but he lacks force and push. i'm satisfied he can't help it. he is stronger than he looks, and younger too, but he was fool enough to take part in the civil war, where he got a bullet that is still roaming about in him, besides a thorough malarial soaking that medicine can't cure. this often makes him dull; sometimes for weeks together. but he knows human nature through and through, and if i had a son to bring up, i'd rather give the job to caleb than trust myself with it. he has done me a lot of good in some ways, and i feel indebted to him and want him to be well cared for as long as he lives. his salary is small, and he won't ask to have it increased; but sometimes he'll insist that you help him with some projects of his own, and i advise you to do it, for he will make your life miserable until you do, and the cost won't be great. i used to fight him and lose my temper over some of his hobbies, but now i wish i hadn't; 'twould have been cheaper." "that," said philip, after reading the passage to grace, "is about as tantalizing as if written for the purpose of teasing me, for there's not a shadow of hint as to the nature of caleb's projects and hobbies. he may be experimenting in perpetual motion or at extracting sunshine from cucumbers. still, as the man is honest and his freaks are not expensive, i don't see that i can suffer greatly. by the way, when i informed our firm that they would have to endure the withdrawal of my valuable services, and told them the reason, they were not a bit surprised; they said my uncle had written them several times, asking about my progress and character, and they had been unable to say anything to my discredit. they had been curious enough to make inquiries, from the commercial agencies, about the writer of the letters, and they took pleasure in informing me that uncle jethro's store, houses, farms, were estimated by good judges, at--guess how much." grace wondered vaguely a moment or two before she replied:-- "aunt eunice's cousin was the principal merchant in a town of two or three thousand people, and his estate, at his death, was--inventoried, i think was the word--at twelve thousand dollars. is it as much as that?" "multiply it by six, my dear, and you'll be within the mark, which is seventy-five thousand dollars." "oh, phil!" "i repeat it, seventy-five thousand dollars, and that in a country where a family with a thousand a year can live on the fat of the land! our firm declares that our fortune will be as much to us, out there, as half a million would be in new york. doesn't that make your heart dance? i can give you horses and carriages, dress you in silks and laces, hire plenty of servants for you; in short, make you in appearance and luxury what you will be by nature, the finest lady in the county. dear woman, the better i've learned to know you, the more guilty i've felt at having married you; for i saw plainly that you were fit to adorn any station in the world, instead of being the wife of a man so poor that you yourself had to work for wages to help us have a home. at times i've felt so mean about it that--" grace stopped further utterance on the subject by murmuring:-- "seventy-five thousand dollars! what shall we do with it?" "enjoy it, dear girl; that's what we shall do. we've youth, health, taste, spirits, energy, and best of all, love. if all these qualities can't help us to enjoy money, i can't imagine what else can. besides, claybanks is bound to be a city in the course of a few years--so uncle said; and if he was right, we will be prepared to take the lead in society. 'twon't be injudicious to have the largest, best-furnished house, and a full circle of desirable acquaintances, against the time when the sleepy village shall be transformed in a day, western fashion, into a bustling city." the several days that followed were spent largely in longings to get away, and regrets at leaving new york's many new delights that were at last within reach; but finally philip wrote caleb wright that he would arrive at claybanks on a specified date, and asked that the best room in the best hotel be engaged for him. the couple reached the railway station at dawn of a dull december morning, and after an hour of effort, while grace remained in the single room at the station and endeavored not to be nauseated by the mixed odors of stale tobacco, an overloaded stove, and a crate of live chickens awaiting shipment, philip found a conveyance to take them to claybanks. the unpaved road was very muddy, and the trees were bare, the farm-houses were few and unsightly. philip was obliged to ask:-- "isn't it shockingly dismal?" "is this the road," grace answered, "over which you walked, at night, when you visited your uncle?" "the very same, i suppose, for there's never a choice of roads between two unimportant places." "then i sha'n't complain," said grace, nestling very close to her husband. the outlook did not improve as the travellers came near to the village of claybanks. houses were more numerous, but most of them were very small, many were unpainted, and some were of rough logs. the fences, while exhibiting great variety of design, were almost uniform in shabbiness. "rather a dismal picture, isn't it?" asked philip. "it suggests a kalsominer's attempt to copy a corot." "i'm keeping my eyes closed," grace replied. "i'm going to defer being impressed by the town until a sunny day arrives." "if you were to look about you now," said philip, gloomily, "you'd see the fag end of nothing--the jumping-off place of the world. how my uncle succeeded in living here--still stranger in making money here--passes my comprehension." the best room at the hotel proved to be quite clean, but as bare as a hotel chamber could be, and also very cold. philip begged for one with a fire, but was told that all warmed rooms were already occupied by regular lodgers. fortunately breakfast was being served. it consisted of fried pork, fried sausage, fried eggs, tough biscuits, butter of a flavor which the newest guests neither recalled nor approved, two kinds of pie, and coffee. "if this is the best hotel caleb could find for us, what can the worst be?" whispered philip. "perhaps we can find board in a private family," whispered grace, in reply. "how early will somerton's store be open?" asked philip of the landlord, who had also served as table-waiter. "it's been open since daybreak, i reckon; it usually is," was the reply. "i shouldn't wonder if you was the new boss, seein' you have the same name. well, i'm glad to see you. i'm one of your customers." "thank you very much. is the store far from here?" "only two blocks up street. you'll find caleb there. you know caleb wright?" "oh, yes; i've been here before." "that so? must have put up at the other hotel, then--or mebbe you stopped with your uncle." "er--yes, for the little while i was in town. i wish there was a warm room in which my wife could rest, while i go up to the store to see caleb." "well, what's the matter with the parlor? come along; let me show you." philip looked into the parlor; so did grace, who quickly said:-- "do let me go to the store with you. you know i always enjoy a walk after breakfast." "pretty soft walkin', ma'am," said the landlord, after eying grace's daintily shod feet. "better let me borrow you my wife's gum shoes; she ain't likely to go out of the house to-day. you ought to have gum boots, though, if you're dead set on walkin' about in winter." grace thanked the landlord for his offer and advice, but hurried phil out of the hotel, after which she said:-- "that was my first visit to a hotel of any kind. do they improve on acquaintance? oh, phil! don't look so like a thunder-cloud! what can the matter be?" "i should have been thoughtful enough to come a day or two in advance, and found a proper home for you. i hope caleb will know of one. be careful!--the sidewalk is ending. let me go first." two or three successive planks served as continuation of the sidewalk, and their ends did not quite join, but philip skilfully piloted his wife along them. beyond, in front of a residence, was a brick walk about two feet wide, after which was encountered soft mud for about fifty linear feet. philip looked about for bits of board, stone, brick--anything with which to make solid footing at short intervals. but he could see nothing available; neither could he see any person out of doors, so in desperation he took grace in his arms and carried her to a street-crossing, where to his delight he saw a broad stick of hewn timber embedded in the mud and extending from side to side. after this were some alternations of brick sidewalk, mud, and a short causeway of tan-bark, the latter ending at a substantial pavement in front of a store over which was a weatherbeaten sign bearing the name jethro somerton. "the treasure-house of her majesty grace i., queen of claybanks," said philip. "shall we enter?" as philip opened the door, a small man who was replenishing the stove looked around, dropped a stick of wood, wiped his hands on his coat, came forward, smiling pleasantly, and said:-- "mr. somerton, i'm very glad to see you again." "thank you, mr. wright. let me make you acquainted with mrs. somerton." caleb seemed not a bit appalled as he shook hands with grace. he held her hand several seconds while he looked at her, and seemed to approve of what he saw; then he said:-- "your uncle told me of your marriage, and thought you'd been very unwise. i reckon he'd change his mind if he was here, though 'twas a hard one to change." grace blushed slightly and replied:-- "i hope so, i'm sure. have you had the entire work of the store since uncle jethro died?" "uncle--jethro! i don't believe he'd have died if he'd heard you say that! well, yes, i've been alone here. your husband wrote he'd be along pretty soon, an' as the roads was so soft that the farmers didn't come to town much, i didn't think it worth while to get extra help. come into the back room, won't you? there's chairs there, an' a good fire too." "are the farmers your principal customers?" grace asked, as she sank into a capacious wooden armchair. "well, they're the most important ones. they take most time, too, though some of the women-folks in this town can use more time in spendin' a quarter an' makin' up their minds--principally the latter, than--well, i don't s'pose you can imagine how they wait, an' fuss, an' turn things over, an'--" "oh, indeed i can," said grace; "for once i was a country girl, and in new york i was a saleswoman in a store, and have waited on just such customers half an hour at a time without making a sale, though the store was one of the biggest in the city, and its prices were as low as any." "i want to know!" exclaimed caleb, whose eyes had opened wide while grace talked. "you?--a country gal?--an' a saleswoman? i wouldn't have thought it!" "why not? don't i look clever enough?" "oh, that ain't it, but--" "some day, when you and philip are real busy," suggested grace, "perhaps you'll let me help you behind the counter." "mrs. somerton is a great joker," explained philip, as caleb continued to look incredulous. "but i wasn't joking," said grace. "i'll really help in the store some day when--" "when your husband lets you, you said," remarked philip. "well," drawled caleb, slowly regaining his customary expression, "i shouldn't wonder if mrs. somerton's the kind that's let to do pretty much as she likes." philip laughed, and replied:-- "you're a quick judge of human nature, mr. wright. but before we talk business i want some advice and assistance. we can't live at that hotel; for my wife would have to sit in a cold room all day, which isn't to be thought of. can't you suggest a boarding place, in a private family?" "scarcely, i'm afraid," caleb replied after a moment of thought. "i don't b'lieve any families here ever took boarders, or would know how to do it to your likin'. what's the matter with your takin' your uncle's house an' livin' in it? it's plain, but comfortable, an' just as he left it." "is there a servant in it?" "oh, no; there hasn't been since his wife died, an' _she_ wasn't what you city folks call a servant. 'helper' is what you want to say in these parts. they're hard to get, too, an' if they're not treated same as if they was members of the family, they won't stay. about your uncle,--well, you see he took his meals at the hotel, an' done his own housework, which didn't amount to much except makin' his bed ev'ry mornin' an' makin' fire through the winter. s'pose you take a look at it, when you're good and ready. it's on the back of the store-lot, and the key is in the desk here. your furniture an' things, that come by rail, i had put in the warehouse behind the store, not knowin' just what you'd want to do." philip and grace looked at each other, and exchanged a few words about possible housekeeping. caleb looked at both with great interest, and improved the first moment of silence to say:-- "an' she's--you've--been a shop-girl!" philip frowned slightly, and caleb hastened to add, "i ort to have said a saleswoman. but who would have thought it!" "caleb is a character," grace said as soon as she and her husband left the store. "i'm going to be very fond of him." "very well; do so. i'll promise not to be jealous. he's certainly hearty, and 'tis good for us that he's honest; for we and all we have are practically in his hands and will remain there until i get a grip on the business. but i do wish uncle jethro hadn't been so enragingly non-committal about the chap's peculiarities. i shall be on pins and needles until i know what the old gentleman was hinting at. besides, he may have been entirely mistaken. a mind that could imagine that this out-of-the-world hole-in-the-ground must one day become a city could scarcely have been entirely trustworthy about anything." iii--introduced the house in which the late jethro somerton had lived was a plain wooden structure, entered by a door opening directly into a room which had been used as a sitting room. behind this was a kitchen, beside which was a bedroom, while in front, beside the sitting room, was a "best room" or parlor. there was a second floor, in which were four rooms, some of which had never been used. the ceilings throughout the house were so low that philip, who was quite tall, could touch them with his finger-tips when he stood on tiptoe. the walls of the sitting room and parlor were hard-finished and white; all the other walls were rough and whitewashed. "this is quite out of the question, as a home," said philip. "no hall, no--" "why not make believe that the sitting room is a square hall?" grace asked. "they're the rage in the swell villages around new york." "but there's no bath room." "we can make one, on the upper floor, where we've rooms to spare." "perhaps; but 'tis very improbable that the town has a water service." "then have a tank, fed from the roof or by a pump, as aunt eunice has in her cottage, smaller than this and in a town no larger than claybanks." "no furnace, of course, to warm the house, and--ugh!--i don't believe the town knows of the existence of coal, for both stoves at the store are fed with wood." "so they were, and--oh, i see! here are fireplaces in the sitting-room--or hall, i suppose i should say--and in the parlor! think how unutterably we longed for the unattainable--that is, an open wood fire--in our little flat in the city!" "but, dear girl, a fireplace grows cold at night." "quite likely; but don't you suppose the principal merchant in town could economize on something so as to afford enough quilts and blankets to keep his family from freezing to death while they sleep?" "you angel, you've all the brains of the family. where did you learn so much about houses? and about what to do when you don't find what you want in them? and who taught you?" "i suppose necessity taught me," grace replied, with a laugh, "and within the past few minutes, too. for, don't you see, we must live in this house. there seems to be no other place for us. and i suppose 'tis instinct for women, rather than men, to see the possibilities of houses, for a woman has to spend most of her life indoors." then she walked slowly toward the kitchen, where she contemplated the stove, two grease-spotted tables, and four fly-specked walls. philip followed her, saying:-- "what a den! money must be spent here at once, and--oh, grace! you're crying? come here--quick! i never before saw tears in your eyes!" "and you never shall again," grace sobbed. "i don't see what can be the matter with me; it must be the cold weather that has--" "this forlorn barn of a house and this shabby, god-forsaken town have broken your heart!" exclaimed philip. "i wish i too could cry. i assure you my heart has been in my boots, though i've tried hard to keep it in its proper place. don't let's remain here another hour. i'll gladly abandon my inheritance to the benevolent societies. we'll hurry back to the city and let our things follow us." "but we can't, phil, for we've burned our bridges behind us. we can take only such money as will get us back, and we would not be certain of employment on reaching the city. besides, we told our acquaintances of our good fortune, but not of its conditions; if we go back, they will suspect you and pity me." "you're right--you're right!" said philip, from behind tightly closed jaws. "why hadn't i sense to get leave of absence for a week, and look at the gift before accepting it? still, we're alive; we have the money, and the first and best use of it is to make you comfortable. i'll get caleb to get me some men at once,--one of them to make fires, and the others to bring over and unpack our goods. in the meanwhile, you shall at least keep warm in the office of the store. you'll have only barrels of molasses and vinegar and bales of grain-sacks for company, but--" "but my husband won't be farther away than the next room," grace said, "and the door between shall remain open." then philip kissed the tears from her eyes, and grace called herself an unreasonable baby, and philip called himself an unpardonable donkey, and they returned together to the store, entering softly by the back door, so that caleb should not see them and join them at once. but dingy though the back windows of the office were, caleb, standing behind one of them, said to himself:-- "rubbin' her face with her handkerchief!--that means she's been cryin'. well, i should think she would, if city houses are anythin' like the picture-papers make 'em out to be." caleb retired to the store, where phil joined him after a few moments, and said:-- "we shall live in the old house, mr. wright. my wife and i have been looking it over, and we see how it can be made very comfortable." "you do, eh?" caleb replied; at the same time his face expressed so much astonishment that philip laughed, and said:-- "you mustn't mistake us for a pair of city upstarts. my wife, as she told you, was a country girl; she went to new york only a few years ago, and 'twas only four years since i passed through here on my way to the city. we're strong enough and brave enough to take anything as we find it, if we can't make it better. that reminds me that the old house can be bettered in many ways. is there a plumber in the town?" "no, sir!" replied caleb, with emphasis, and a show of indignation such as might have been expected were he asked if claybanks supported a gambling den. "we've read about 'em, in the city papers, an' i reckon one of 'em would starve to death if he come out here, unless the boys run him out of town first." "h'm! i'm going to beg you to restrain the boys when i coax a plumber here from the nearest city, for a few days' work in the house. and i've another favor to ask; you know people here, and i don't, as yet. won't you find me two or three men, this morning--at once--to unpack my things that came from the city, and put them into the house? when they're ready to move them, i wish you'd make some excuse to coax my wife out here, so that i can slip down to the house, without her knowledge, and prepare a surprise for her by placing all our belongings about as they were in our rooms in the city." "good for you! good for you!" exclaimed caleb, rubbing his hands. "if you're that kind o' man, i reckon you're deservin' of her. most men's so busy with their own affairs, or so careless, that women comin' to a new country have a back-breakin' time of it, an' a heart-breakin' too. i dunno, though, that i can keep her away from you long enough. from her ways,--the little i've seen of 'em,--i reckon she's one o' the kind o' wives that sticks to her husband like hot tar to a sheep's wool." "oh, you'll have no trouble, for she already has taken a great liking to you." "i recippercate the sentiment," said caleb, again rubbing his hands. "i don't know much, but a man can't work in a country store about twenty year or more without sizin' up new specimens of human nature powerful quick, an' makin' mighty few mistakes at it. you'll find out how it is. all of a sudden, some day, a new settler, that you never saw before, 'll come in an' want to be trusted for goods--sca'cely any of 'em has any cash, an' you have to wait for your pay till they can raise some kind of produce, an' bring it in. if you can't read faces, you're likely to be a goner, to the amount of what you sell, an' if you refuse, you may be a thousan' times wuss a goner; for if the man's honest, an' also as proud as poor folks usually be, he'll never forgive you, and some other storekeeper'll get all his trade. or, a stranger passin' through town wants to sell a hoss; you don't know him or the hoss either, or whether they come by each other honestly, an'--but this ain't what you was talkin' about. i'll stir about and see what help i can pick up. i reckon you won't have no trouble in the store while i'm gone; prices is marked on pretty much everythin'. want to get settled to-day?" "yes, if possible." "reckon i'll see to makin' fires in the house, then, so's to warm things up. if any customer comes in that you don't quite understand, or wants any goods that bothers you, try to hold him till i get back. 'twon't be hard. folks in these parts ain't generally in a drivin' hurry." "all right. i used to lounge in the stores in our town; i know their ways pretty well, and i remember many prices." "that's good. well, if you get stuck, get your wife to help you. there's a good deal in havin' been behind a counter, besides what mrs. somerton is of her own self." then caleb turned up his coat-collar and sauntered out. "grace," shouted philip, as soon as the door had closed, "do come here! allow me to congratulate you on having made a conquest of caleb wright. he kindly tolerates me, but 'tis quite plain that he regards you as the head of the family. i was going to replace that shabby old sign over the door, but now i fear that caleb will demand that the new one shall read 'mrs. somerton & husband.'" grace's face glowed as merrily as if it had not been tear-stained half an hour before, and she replied:-- "i've not seen a possible conquest--since i was married--that would give me greater pleasure; for i am you, you know, and you are me, and the you-i would be dreadfully helpless if we hadn't such a man to depend upon." "'you-i'! that's a good word--a very good one. you ought to be richly paid for coining it." "pay me, then, and promptly!" grace replied. some forms of payment consume much time when the circumstances do not require haste: they also have a way of making the payer and payee oblivious to their surroundings, so philip and grace supposed themselves alone until they heard the front door close with a loud report, and saw a small boy who seemed to consist entirely of eyes. grace quickly and intently studied the label of an empty powder keg on the counter, while philip said:-- "good morning, young man. what can we do for you?" "wantapoundo'shinglenails," was the reply, in nasal monotone. philip searched the hardware section of the store, at the same time searching his memory for the price, in his native town, of shingle nails. the packing of the nails, in soft brown paper, was a slow and painful proceeding to a man whose hands in years had encountered nothing harder or rougher than a pen-holder, but when it was completed, the boy, taking the package, departed rapidly. "he forgot to pay for them," said grace. "yes," philip replied. "i hope his memory will be equally dormant in other respects." but it wasn't; for little scrapsey green stopped several times, on the way home, to tell acquaintances that "up to somerton's store ther was a man a-kissin' a woman like all-possessed, an' he wasn't caleb, neither." the aforesaid acquaintances made haste to spread the story abroad, as did scrapsey's own family; so when caleb returned, an hour later, the store was jammed with apparent customers, and philip was behind one counter, and grace behind the other, and the counters themselves were strewn and covered with goods of all sorts, at which the people pretended to look, while they gazed at the "man and woman" of whom they had been told. "you must be kind o' tuckered out," said caleb, softly, behind grace's counter, as he stood an instant with his back to the crowd, and pretended to adjust a shelf of calicoes. "better take a rest in the back room. i'll relieve you." grace responded quickly to the suggestion, while caleb, leaning over the goods on the counter, said, again softly, to the women nearest him:-- "that's the new mr. somerton's wife--an' that's him, at t'other counter." "mighty scrumptious gal!" commented a middle-aged woman. "yes, an' she's just as nice as she looks. clear gold an' clear grit, an' her husband's right good stuff, too." within two or three minutes caleb succeeded in signalling philip to the back room; five minutes later the store was empty, and caleb joined the couple, and said:-- "sell much?" "not a penny's worth," grace replied, laughing heartily. "we've been comparing notes." "sho!" exclaimed caleb, although his eyes twinkled. "i met scrapsey green up the road, with a pound of shingle-nails that he said come from here, an' i didn't s'pose scrapsey would lie, for he's one o' my sunday-school scholars." philip and grace quickly reddened, while caleb continued, "well, might's well be interduced to the gen'ral public one time's another, i s'pose, 'specially if you can be kept busy, so's not to feel uncomfortable. besides," he said, after a moment of reflection, "if a man hain't got a right to kiss his own wife, on his own property, whose wife has he got a right to kiss, an' where'bouts?" then caleb looked at the account books on the desk, and continued: "reckon you forgot to charge the nails. well, i don't wonder." iv--home-making "i wish the doctor would stop in," said caleb, in a manner as casual as if his first call that morning had not been on doctor and mrs. taggess, whom he told of the new arrivals, declaring that philip and grace were "about as nice as the best, 'specially her, an' powerful in need of a cheerin' up," and begging mrs. taggess to invite grace to midday dinner at once, so that philip might be free to prepare his surprise for grace. "the doctor?" grace echoed. "why, mr. wright, which of us looks ill?" "neither one nor t'other, at present," caleb replied; "but this country's full of malary, an' forewarned is forearmed. besides, our doctor's the kind to do your heart good, an' his wife's just like him. they're good an' clever, an' hearty, an' sociable, an' up to snuff in gen'ral. fact is, they're the salt of the earth, or to as much of it as knows 'em. sometimes i think that claybanks an' the round-about country would kind o' decay an' disappear if it wasn't for doc taggess an' his wife. doc's had good chances to go to the city, for he's done some great cures that's got in the medical papers, but here he stays. he don't charge high, an' a good deal of the time it don't do him no good to charge, but here he sticks--says he knows all the people an' their constitutions, an' so on, an' a new doctor might let some folks die while he was learnin' the ropes, so to speak. how's that for a genuine man?" "first-rate," said philip, and grace assented. caleb continued to tell of the doctor's good qualities, and suddenly said:-- "speak of angels, an' you hear their buggy-wheels, an' the driver hollerin' 'whoa!' i think i just heard the doctor say it, out in front." a middle-aged couple bustled into the store; grace hastily consulted a small mirror in the back room, and caleb whispered to philip:-- "if they ask you folks to ride or do anythin', let your wife go, an' you make an excuse to stay. there's a powerful lot of your new york stuff to be fixed, if you expect to do it to-day. come along! doctor an' mrs. taggess, this is my new boss, an' here comes his wife." "glad to meet you," said the doctor, a man of large, rugged, earnest face, extending a hand to each. mrs. taggess, who was a motherly-looking woman, exclaimed to grace:-- "you poor child, how lonesome you must feel! so far from your home!" "oh, no,--only the length of the store-yard," grace replied. "eh? brave girl!" said the doctor. "that's the sort of spirit to have in a new country, if you want to be happy. well, i can't stop more than a minute,--i've a patient to see in the back street. i understand you're stopping at the hotel, and as, for the reputation of the town, we shouldn't like you to get a violent attack of indigestion the first day, we came down to ask you to dine with us at twelve. mrs. somerton can ride up now and visit with my wife, and her husband can come up when he will. caleb can give him the direction." "so kind of you!" murmured grace, and philip said:-- "i shall be under everlasting obligations to you for giving my wife a view of some better interior than that of a store or that dismal hotel, but i daren't leave to-day. caleb has arranged for several men to see me." "well, well, i'll catch you some other day," said the doctor. "i must be going; hope you'll find business as brisk as i do. you may be sure that mrs. taggess will take good care of your wife, and see that she gets safely back. good day. i'll drop in once in a while. hope to know you better. i make no charge for social calls." so it came to pass that within ten minutes philip was furnishing his new home with the contents of the old. the possible contents of a new york flat for two are small, at best; yet as each bit of furniture, upholstery, and bric-à-brac was placed in position in the jethro somerton house, the plain rooms looked less bare, so philip was correspondingly elated. true, he had to use ordinary iron nails to hang his pictures, and was in desperation for some moments for lack of rods for portières and curtains, but he supplied their places with rake-handles from the store and rested them in meat-hooks. he worked so long, and hurried so often into the store for one makeshift after another, that caleb became excited and peered through the windows of the store's back room at his first opportunity, just in time to see the upright piano moved in. unable to endure the strain of curiosity any longer, he quickly devised an excuse, in the shape of a cup of coffee and some buttered toast, all made at the stove in the back room of the store. coaxing a trustworthy but lounging customer to "mind store" for him a minute or two, caleb put the refreshments in a covered box and timed himself to meet philip as the latter emerged from the warehouse with an armful of books. "didn't want to disturb you, but seein' that you let the hotel dinner-hour pass an' was workin' hard, i thought mebbe a little snack" (here caleb lifted the lid of the box) "'d find its way to the right place." "mr. wright, you're a trump! would you mind bringing it into the house for me, my hands being full?" "don't want to intrude." "nonsense! aren't we friends? if not, we're going to be. besides, i really want some one to rejoice with me over the surprise i'm going to give my wife. come right in. drop the box on this table." "well!" exclaimed caleb, after a long suspiration, "i reckon i done that just in time! a second more, an' i'd ha' dropped the hull thing on this carpet--or is it a shawl? why, 'taint the same place at all! je-ru-salem! what would your uncle jethro say if he could look in a minute? reckon he'd want to come back an' stay. i dunno's i ought to have said that, though, for i've always b'lieved he was among the saved, an' of course your house ain't better'n heaven, but--" "but 'twill be heaven to my wife and me," said philip. "well, i reckon homes was invented 'specially to prepare folks for heaven,--or t'other place, 'cordin' to the folks." "come into the parlor," said philip, toast and coffee in hand. for a moment or two caleb stood speechless in the doorway; then he said:-- "je-ru-salem! this reminds me to take off my hat. why, i s'posed you folks wasn't over-an'-above well fixed in the city, but this is a palace!" "not quite," said philip, although delighted by caleb's comments. "thousands of quiet young couples in new york have prettier parlors than this." "i want to know!" then caleb sighed. "i reckon that's why young people that go there from the country never come home again. i've knowed a lot of 'em that i'd like to see once more. hello! i reckon that's a pianner; i've seen pictures of 'em in advertisements. a firm in the city once wanted your uncle to take the county agency for pianners." caleb laughed almost convulsively as he continued, "ye ort to have seen jethro's face when he read that letter!" "do you mean to say that there are no pianos in this county?" asked philip. "i just do. but there once was an organ. squire pease, out in hick'ry township, bought one two or three years ago for his gals. he was runnin' for sheriff then, an' thought somethin' so new an' startlin' might look like a sign of public spirit, an' draw him some votes. but somehow his gals didn't get the hang of it, an' the noises it made always set visitors' dogs to howlin', an' to tryin' to get into the house an' kill the varmint, whatever it was, an' pease's dogs tried to down the visitors' dogs, an' that made bad feelin'; so pease traded the organ to a pedler for a patent corn-planter, an' he didn't get 'lected sheriff, either. i allers reckoned that ef anybody'd knowed how to play on it, that organ might ha' been a means of grace in these parts, for i've knowed a nigger's fiddle to stop a drunken fight that was too much for the sheriff an' his posse." caleb looked the piano over as if it were a horse on sale, and continued:-- "don't seem to work with a crank." "oh, no," replied philip, placing a chair in front of the instrument and seating himself. "this is the method." he indulged in two or three "runs," and then, with his heart on grace, he dashed into the music dearest to him and his wife--perhaps because it was not played at their own very quiet marriage,--the mendelssohn wedding march. "je-ru-salem!" exclaimed caleb. "that's a hair-lifter! what a blessin' such a machine must be to a man that knows the tunes!" rightly construing this remark as an indication that caleb longed to hear music with which he was acquainted, philip searched his memory for familiar music of the days when he was a country boy, and which would therefore be recognized by caleb. suddenly he recalled an air very dear to several religious denominations, although it has been dropped from almost all modern hymnals, probably because its vivacity, repetitions, and its inevitable suggestion of runs and variations had made it seem absolutely indecorous to ears that were fastidious as well as religious. philip had heard it played (by request) as a quick march, by a famous brass band, at the return of troops from a soldier's funeral in new york; so, after playing a few bars of it softly, he tried to recall and imitate the march effect. he succeeded so well that soon he was surprised to see caleb himself, an ex-soldier, striding to and fro, singing the hymn beginning:-- "am i a soldier of the cross?" when philip stopped, caleb shouted:-- "three cheers for the gospel! say! i wish--" "well?" "never mind," replied caleb. "i was only thinkin' that if our church could hear that, there'd be an almighty revival of religion. reckon i'd better git back to the store. say, you've been so full of palace-makin' that you've let the fires go out. i'll just load 'em up again for you; afterwards, if you chance to think of 'em, there's lots of good dry hick'ry in the woodshed, right behind the kitchen." philip continued to make hurried dashes into the store for necessities and makeshifts. when finally he entered for candles, caleb remarked:-- "i'll call you in when your wife comes; but if you don't want her to smell a rat, you'd better shut the front shutters. there's already been people hangin' on the fence, lookin' at them lace fixin's in the winders, an' women are powerful observin'. an' say, here's a new tea-kettle, full of water; better set it on the kitchen stove. pianners are splendid,--i never would have believed there could be anythin' like 'em,--but the singin' of a tea-kettle's got a powerful grip on most women's ears. i didn't see no ev'ryday dishes among your things. don't you want some?" philip thought he did not, and he hurried to the house. he was soon summoned to the store, and through the coming darkness of the sunset hour he saw at the back door his wife, who said:-- "oh, phil! mrs. taggess is the dearest woman! we were of the same age before i'd been with her an hour." "eh? you don't look a moment older." "but she looked twenty years younger. when she's animated, she--oh, i never saw such a complexion." "not even in your mirror?" "no, you silly dear! and her home is real cosey. there's nothing showy or expensive in it; but if ever i get homesick, i'm going to hurry up there, even if the mud is a foot deep." "good! perhaps you got some ideas of how to fix up our own dismal barn of a house. come down and look about it once more." together they started. as they reached the front door, and philip threw it open, caleb, with his eye at the back window of the store, saw grace stop and toss up her hands. as the door closed, caleb jumped up and down, and afterward said to himself:-- "there are times when i wish, church or no church, that i'd learned how to dance." "phil! phil! phil!" exclaimed grace, dashing from one room to another, all of which were as well lighted as candles could make them. "how did you?--how could you? no woman could have done better! oh! home!--home!--home! and a few hours ago, right here, i was the most disheartened, rebellious, wicked woman in the world! come here to me--this instant!" there are times when manly obedience is a natural virtue. for a few moments a single easy chair was large enough for the couple, who laughed, and cried, and otherwise comported themselves very much as any other healthy and affectionate couple might have done in similar circumstances. a knock at the door recalled them to the world. "don't like to disturb you," said caleb, "but doc taggess has dropped in again an' asked for mr. somerton, an' as his time's not all his own, mebbe you'd--" "do tell him how i enjoyed my day with his wife," said grace. "i tried to, when he brought me down, but i don't feel that i said half enough." philip hurried to the store; caleb lingered and said to grace:-- "reckon you've had a little s'prise, hain't you? your husband showed me 'round a little." "little surprise? oh, mr. wright! 'twas the greatest, dearest surprise of my life. but 'twas just like phil; he's the thoughtfullest, smartest man in the world." "is, eh? well, stick to that, an' you'll always be happy, even if you should chance to be mistaken. but say,--'what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander,' as i reckon you've heard. don't you want to give your husband a pleasant s'prise?" "oh, don't i!" "well, i'm kind o' feared to ask you, after seein' all these fine things; but you said you was brought up in the country. can you cook?" "indeed i can! i've cooked all our meals at home since we were married--except those that phil prepared." "good! well, there's self-raisin' flour an' all sorts o' groceries in the store, an' eggs an' butter in the store cellar, an' alongside of the warehouse there's an ice-house, with three or four kinds o' meat. we have to take all sorts o' things in trade from country customers, an' some of 'em won't keep without ice. now, if you was to s'prise your husband with a home-made supper, he wouldn't have to go down to the hotel, an' mebbe your own heart wouldn't break not to have to eat down there again." "oh, mr. wright! you're a genius! i wonder whether i could manage the kitchen stove." "best way to find out's to take a look at it." grace followed the suggestion. caleb explained the draught and dampers, and took grace's orders, saying, as he departed:-- "doc'll keep him in the store till i get back,--that's what he's there for,--an' i'll keep him afterwards. when you want him, pull this rope: it starts an alarm in my room, over the store, an' i'll hear it." doctor taggess gave philip some health counsel, at great length. claybanks and the surrounding country was very malarious, he said, and newcomers, especially healthy young people from the east, could not be too careful about diet, dress, and general habits until entirely acclimatized. then he got upon some of his hobbies, and philip thought the conversation might be very entertaining if grace and the new home were not within a moment's walk. no sooner had the doctor departed than caleb insisted on a decision regarding an account that was in dispute, because the debtor was likely to come in at any moment, and the matter was very important. he talked details until philip was almost crazed with impatience, but suddenly a muffled whir caused caleb to say abruptly:-- "but it's better for him to suffer than for your wife to do it; an' if you don't be ready to start her for supper the minute the hotel bell rings, you won't get the best pickin's." philip escaped with great joy, and a minute later was in his new sitting room and staring in amazement at a neatly set table, with grace at the head of it, and upon it an omelette, a filet of beef, some crisp fried potatoes, tea-biscuits, cake, and a pot of coffee. after seating himself and bowing his head a moment, he succeeded in saying:-- "'how did you?--how could you?' as you said to me." "how could i help it," grace replied, "after the delicate hint you left behind you,--the kettle boiling on the stove?" "my dear girl, like little george washington, i cannot tell a lie. caleb was responsible for that tea-kettle; he brought it from the store, and said something poetical about the singing of a kettle being music to a woman's ear." "caleb did that?" exclaimed grace, springing from her chair. "set another place, please!" then she dashed through the darkness, into the store, and exclaimed:-- "mr. wright, i shan't eat a single mouthful until you come down and join us. lock the store--quick--before things get cold." "your word's law, i s'pose," said caleb, locking the front door, "but--" "'but me no buts,'" grace said, taking his hand and making a true "home run." caleb seated himself awkwardly, looked around him, and said:-- "hope you asked a blessin' on all this?" "i never ate a meal without one," philip replied. "reckon you'll get along, then," said caleb, looking relieved and engulfing half of a tea-biscuit. v--business ways philip engaged a plumber from the nearest city and had one of his upper chambers transformed into a bath-room, and caleb, by special permission, studied every detail of the work and went into so brown a study of the general subject that philip informed grace that either the malarial soaking, mentioned in uncle jethro's letter, had reached the point of saturation, or that the confederate bullet had found a new byway in its meanderings. but caleb was not conscious of anything out of the usual--except the bath-room. by dint of curiosity and indirect questioning he learned that in new york philip and his wife had bathed daily. afterward he talked bathing with the occasional commercial travellers who reached claybanks--men who seemed "well set up," despite some distinct signs of bad habits, and learned that men of affairs in the great city thought bathing quite as necessary as eating. he talked to doctor taggess on the subject, and was told in reply that, in the doctor's opinion, cleanliness was not only next to godliness, but frequently an absolute prerequisite to cleanly longings and a clean life. so one day, after a fortnight of self-abstraction, he announced to philip that a bath-room ought to be regarded as a means of grace. "quite so," assented philip, "but i wish it weren't so expensive at the start. do you know what that bath-room, with its tank, pump, drain, etc., has cost? the bill amounts to about a hundred and fifty dollars, and it can't be charged to my account for six months, like most of our purchases for the store." "that so?" drawled caleb, carelessly, though in his heart he was delighted; for philip had also engaged from the city a paper-hanger, and he had employed a local painter to do a lot of work; and caleb, who knew the business ways of country stores, had trembled for the bills, yet doubted his right to speak of them. "well, have you got the money to pay for it?" "yes, but not much more; and in the two weeks i've been here the store has taken in about forty dollars in cash." "that's about it, i b'lieve. well, realizin'-time is comin'; it's right at hand, in fact, an' i've wanted a chance to have a good long talk with you 'bout it. when i was a boy i used to lie on my back in the woods for hours at a time, catchin' backaches an' rheumatiz for the sake of watchin' the birds makin' their nests an' startin' their house-keepin'. watchin' you an' your wife gettin' to rights has made me feel just like i did in them days--except for the backaches and rheumatiz. i wouldn't have pestered the birds for a hull farm, an' i hain't wanted to pester you, but the quicker you can give more 'tention to the business, the better 'twill be for your pocket." "why, mr. wright--" "call me caleb, won't you? ev'rybody else does, 'xcept you an' your wife, an' i can talk straighter when i ain't 'mistered.'" "thank you, good friend, for the permission. i'll take it, if you'll call me philip." "that's a bargain," said caleb, with visible signs of relief. "well, as i was sayin', the more time you can give the business, the better 'twill be for your pocket. your uncle kept first place in this town an' county, an' you need to do the same, if you want to keep your mind easy about other things. i've said all sorts of good things about you to the customers, though i haven't stretched the truth an inch. they all think you bright, but you need to show 'em that you're sharp too, else they'll do their best to dull you. business is business, you know; likewise, human nature's human nature." "correct! go on." "well, i'm doin' my best to keep an eye on ev'rythin' an' ev'rybody, but i'm not boss. besides, it took two of us to do it all when your uncle was alive, though he was about as smart as they make 'em. there's one thing you won't have no trouble about, an' that's beatin' down. this is the only strictly one-price store in the county, an' it saves lots o' time by keepin' away the slowest, naggiest traders. it might ha' kept away some good customers, too, if your uncle hadn't been a master hand at gettin' up new throw-ins." "throw-ins? what are they?" "what? you brought up in the country, an' not know what a 'throw-in' is? why, when a man buys somethin', he gen'rally says, 'what ye goin' to throw in?' that means, 'what are you goin' to give me for comin' here instead of buyin' somewhere else?' when it's stuff for clothes, there's no trouble, for any merchant throws in thread and buttons to make it up if it's men's goods, or thread an' hooks an' eyes if it's women's. up at bustpodder's store they throw in a drink o' whiskey whenever a man buys anythin' that costs a quarter or more, an' it draws lots o' trade; but your uncle never worked for drinkin' men's trade, unless for cash, so we've never kept liquor, but that made him all the keener to get other throw-ins. one year 'twas wooden pipes for men, an' little balls of gum-camphor for women. then 'twas hair-ile for young men an' young women. whatever 'twas, 'twas sure to be somethin' kind o' new, an' go-to-the-spotty. shouldn't wonder if your wife, havin' been in a big store, might think of a lot o' new throw-ins for women-folks. but that's only a beginnin'." "h'm! now tell me everything i ought to do that i haven't been doing." "well, in the first place, when you meet a customer, you want to get a tight grip on him, somehow, 'fore he leaves. then you want to get into your mind how much each one owes you, an' ask when he's goin' to begin to bring in his produce. none of the men on our books mean to be dishonest; but if you don't keep 'em in mind of their accounts at this time o' year, some of 'em may sell their stuff to somebody else for cash, an' country folks with cash in their pockets is likely to think more of what they'd like to buy than what they owe. i reckon, from some things i've heerd, that some city folks are that way too." "quite likely. well?" "well, if say a dozen of your biggest country customers sell for cash an' don't bring you the money, you'll find yourself in a hole about your own bills, for some of your customers are on the books for three or four hundred apiece. your uncle sold 'em all he could, for he knew their ways an' that he could bring 'em to time." "h'm! suppose they fail to pay after having been trusted a full year, isn't the law good for anything?" "oh, yes; but sue a customer an' you lose a customer, an' there ain't any too many in this county, at best. now, your uncle made sure, before he died, about all of 'm whose principal crop was wheat; but the wheat's then brought in an' sold, an' most of the money for it, after his own bills were paid, was in the check the lawyers sent you. the rest of the customers raised mostly corn an' pork,--most gen'rally both, for the easiest way to get corn to market is to put it into pork; twenty bushels o' corn, weighin' over a thousan' poun's, makes two hundred pound o' pork, an' five times less haulin'; besides, pork's always good for cash, but sometimes you can't hardly give corn away. queer about corn; lot's o' folks that's middlin' sensible about a good many things seems to think that corn's only fit to feed to hogs an' niggers. why, some o' 'em's made me so touchy about it that i've took travellin' business men up into my room, over the store, an' give 'em a meal o' nothin' but corn an' pork, worked up in half a dozen ways, an' it seemed as if they couldn't eat enough, but i couldn't see that the price o' corn went up afterwards. i'd like to try a meal o' that kind on you an' your wife some day. if the world took as easy to corn when it's ground into meal as when it's turned into whiskey, this section o' country would get rich." "i shouldn't wonder if it would. but what else?" "well, you must get a square up-an'-down promise from each o' your customers that their pork's to come to you, you promisin' to pay cash, at full market price, for all above the amount that's owed you. you must have the cash ready, too." "but where am i to get it?" "why, out of the first pork you can get in an' ship east or south. you must be smart enough to coax some of 'em to do their killin' the first week the roads freeze hard enough to haul a full load. they'll all put it off, hopin' to put a few more pounds o' weight on each hog, an' that mebbe the price'll go up a little." "but how am i to coax them?" "well, there's about as many ways as customers. i'll put you up to the nature of the men, as well as i can, an' help you other ways all i can, but you must do the rest; for, as i said before, you're boss, an' they're all takin' your measure, agin next year an' afterwards. as to ways o' coaxin',--well, the best is them that don't show on their face what they be. your uncle held one slippery customer tight by pertendin' to be mighty fond o' the man's only son, who was the old fellow's idol. your uncle got the boy a book once in a while, an' spent lots o' spare moments answerin' the youngster's questions, for your uncle knew a lot about a good many things. there was another customer that thought all money spent on women's clothes was money throwed away--p'raps 'twas 'cause his wife was more'n ordinary good-lookin', an' liked to show off. one year, in one of our goods boxes from the east, was a piece of silk dress-goods that would have put your eyes out. black silk was the only kind that ever came here before, and it had always been satisfyin'. next to plenty o' religion and gum-camphor, a black silk dress is what ev'ry self-respectin' woman in the county hankers for most. well, your uncle never showed that blue an' white an' yaller an' purple an' red silk to nobody till about this time o' year; he told me not to, too, but one day, when the feller's wife was in town, an' warmin' her feet at the backroom stove, your uncle took that silk in there an' showed it, an' he see her eyes was a-devourin' it in less than a minute. "'there's only enough of it for one dress,' said he, 'an' i ain't sure i could get any more like it. you're the style o' woman that would set it off, so you'd better take it before somebody else snaps it up.' "'take it?' said she, lookin' all ways to once; 'why, if i was to have that charged, my husband would go plum crazy, or else he'd send me to an asylum.' "'not a bit of it!' said your uncle. 'tell you what i'll do; i'll lay that silk away, an' not show it to anybody till your husban' brings me in his pork an' we have our settlement. you come with him, an' i'll wrap up the silk for you, an' if he objects to payin' for it--oh, i know his ways, but i tell you right here, that if he objects to payin' for it, i'll make you a present of it, an' you can lay all the blame on me, sayin' i pestered you so hard that you had to take it.' well, your uncle got the pork; the wife gave the man no peace till he promised to fetch it here, an' she got the dress, an' her husband--hawk howlaway, his name was,--was so tickled that he told all the county how he got the best of old jethro." "pretty good--for one year, if the dress didn't cost too much." "it only cost seventy cents a yard, an' there was fifteen yards of it. the pork netted more'n four hundred dollars. but that wa'n't the end of it. the woman hadn't wore the dress to church but one sunday when her husband came into the store one day an' hung 'round a spell, lookin' 'bout as uneasy as a sinner under conviction, an' at last he winked your uncle into the back room, an' says howlaway, says he:-- "'jethro, you've got me in a heap o' trouble, 'cause of that silk dress you loaded on to my wife. she looks an' acts as if my sunday clothes wasn't good enough to show alongside of it, an' other folks looks an' acts so too. so, jethro, you've got to help me out. i've got to have some new clothes, an' they've got to be just so, or they won't do.' your uncle said, 'all right,' an' got off a line from an advertisement in a city paper, about 'no fit, no pay.' then he wrote to a city clothin' store for some samples of goods, an' for directions how to measure a man for a suit of clothes. oh, he was a case, your uncle was; why, i do believe he'd ha' took an order from an angel for a new set of wing-feathers an' counted on gettin' the goods some way. i don't say he made light of it, though. i never see him so close-minded as he was for the next two weeks. one day i chaffed him a little about wastin' a lot o' time on a handsome hardware-goods drummer that hadn't much go, an' whose prices was too high anyway; but your uncle said:-- "'he's just about the height and build of hawk howlaway, an' he knows how to wear his clothes.' then i knowed what was up. well, to make a long story short, the clothes come, in the course o' time, and on an app'inted day howlaway come too, lookin' about as wish-i-could-hide as a gal goin' to be married. your uncle stuck up four lookin'-glasses on the back room wall, one over another, an' then he turned howlaway loose in the room, with the clothes, an' a white shirt with cuffs an' collar on it, an' told him to lock himself in an' go to work, an' to pound on the door if he got into trouble. in about ten minutes he pounded, an' your uncle went in, an' hawk was lookin' powerful cocky, though he said:-- "'there's somethin' that ain't quite right, though i don't know what 'tis.' "'it's your hair--an' your beard,' said your uncle. 'now, hawk, you slip out o' them clothes, an' go down to black sam, that does barberin', an' tell him you want an all-round job: 't'll only cost a quarter. but wait a minute,' an' with that your uncle hurried into the store, took out of the cash-drawer a picture that he'd cut out of a paper that he'd been studyin' pretty hard for a week, took it back, an' said, 'take this along, an' tell the barber it's about the style you want.' "well, when hawk saw his own face in the glass after that reapin', he hardly knowed himself, an' he sneaked into the store by climbin' the fence an' knockin' at the back door, for fear of havin' to be interdooced to any neighbors that might be hangin' 'round the counters. then he made another try at the clothes, an' called your uncle in again, and said:-- "'they looked all right until i put my hat on, an' then somethin' went wrong again.' "'shouldn't wonder if 'twas your hat,' said your uncle, comin' back for a special hat an' a pair of sunday shoes, all howlaway's size, that he'd ordered with the clothes. he took 'em in an' said:-- "'when you start to dress like a gentleman, to stand 'longside of a lady, you want to go the whole hog or none.' "well,--i didn't know this story was so long when i begun to tell it,--hawk sneaked the clothes home, an' it come out in the course o' time that when on sunday mornin' he dressed up an' showed off to his wife, she kissed him for the first time in three year, which sot him up so that he had the courage to go to church without first loadin' up with whiskey, as he'd expected to, to nerve him up to be looked at in his new things, an' when hog-killin' an' settlement time came round again, hawk brought his pork to us, an' when he found his wife's silk dress hadn't been charged to him, he said in a high an' mighty way that he reckoned that until he was dead or divorced he could afford to pay for his own wife's duds, hearin' which, your uncle, who'd already socked the price of the dress onto the price of hawk's own clothes, smiled out o' both sides of his mouth, an' all the way round to the back of his neck. an' since then, hawk's always brought his pork to us, an' got a new silk dress ev'ry winter for his wife, an' new sunday clothes for himself, an' nobody would he buy of but your uncle. let's see; what was we talkin' 'bout when i turned off onto this story?" "we were talking of ways of cajoling customers into paying their year's bills," said philip. "apparently i ought, just as a starter, to know how to coddle customer's boys, and supply hair-cutting and shaving plans to the village barber, and to play wife against husband, and learn to measure a man for clothes, like a--" "that's so," said caleb, "an' you can't be too quick about that, either, for hawk'll want a new suit pretty soon." "anything else? by the way: what you said about the need of ready money reminds me of some questions i've been intending to ask, but forgotten. there are some mortgages in the safe on which interest will be due on the first of the year,--only a fortnight off. 'twill aggregate nearly a thousand dollars." "yes,--when you get it, but interest's the slowest pay of all, in these parts, unless you work an' contrive for it. they know you won't foreclose on 'em; for while the security's good enough if you let it alone, there ain't an estate in the county that would fetch the face of its mortgage under the hammer. besides, a merchant gen'rally dassent foreclose a mortgage, unless it's agin some worthless shack of a man. folks remember it agin him, an' he loses some trade." "then those mortgages are practically worthless?" "oh, no. the money's in 'em, principal an' int'rest in full,--but the holder's got to know how to git it out. that's the difference between successful merchants and failures." "h'm--i see. apparently country merchants should be, like the disciples, as wise as serpents and as harmless as doves." "that's it in a nutshell. i reckon any fool could make money in the store business if there was nothin' to do but weigh an' measure out goods an' take in ready cash for 'em. but there ain't no ready money in this county, 'xcept what the merchants get in for the produce they send out. there ain't no banks, so the store-keepers have to be money-lenders, an' have money in hand to lend; for while there's some borrowers that can be turned off, there's some it would never do to say 'no' to, if you wanted further dealin's with 'em, for they'd feel as if they'd lost their main dependence, an' been insulted besides. why, some of our customers come in here saturdays an' get a few five an' ten cent pieces, on credit like any other goods, so's their families can have somethin' to put in the plate in church on sunday." "but there are rentals due from several farms, and from houses in town. are they as hard to collect as interest on mortgages?" "well, no--oh, no. the rent of most of the farms is payable in produce; there's ironclad written agreements, recorded in the county clerk's office, that the renters shan't sell any of their main crops anywhere else until the year's rent is satisfied. one of 'em pays by clearin' five acre of woodland ev'ry winter, an' gettin' it under cultivation in the spring, and another has to do a certain amount of ditchin' to drain swampy places. you'll have to watch them two fellers close, or they'll skimp their work, for there's nothin' farmers hate like clearin' an' ditchin'. i don't blame 'em, either." "and the houses in town?" "oh, they're all right. the man in one of 'em, at two dollars a month, cuts all the firewood for the store an' house; that about balances his bill. another house, at three thirty-three a month, has a cooper in it; he pays the rent, an' all of the stuff he buys at the store, in barrels for us in the pork-packin' season. the three an' a-half a month house man works out his rent in the pork-house durin' the winter, an' the four dollar house has your insurance agent in it; there's always a little balance in his favor ev'ry year. the--" "caleb!" exclaimed philip, "wait a minute; do you mean to tell me that houses in claybanks rent as low as four dollars, three and a half, three and a third, and even as low as two dollars a month?" "that's what i said. why, the highest rent ever paid in this town was six dollars a month. the owner tried to stick out for seventy-five a year, but the renter wouldn't stand the extra twenty-five cents a month." philip put his face in his hands, his elbows on his knees, and said:-- "six dollars a month! and in new york i paid twenty-five dollars a month for five rooms, and thought myself lucky!" "twenty--five--dollars--a month!" echoed caleb. "why, if it's a fair question, how much money did you make?" "eighty dollars a month, with a certainty of a twenty per cent increase every year. 'twasn't much, but i was sure of getting it. from what you've been telling me, i'm not absolutely sure of anything whatever here, unless i do a lot of special and peculiar work--and after i've earned the money by delivering the goods." "well, your uncle averaged somethin' between three an' four thousan', clear, ev'ry year, an' he come by it honestly, too, but there's no denyin' that he had to work for it. from seven in the mornin' to nine at night in winter; five in the mornin' till sundown in summer, to say nothin' of watchin' the pork-house work till all hours of the night throughout the season--a matter o' two months. he always went to sleep in church sunday mornin', but the minister didn't hold it agin him. that reminds me: your uncle was a class-leader, an' the brethren are quietly sizin' you up to see if you can take the job where he left off. i hope you'll fetch." "thank you, caleb," said philip, closing his eyes as if to exclude the prospect. "but tell me," he said a moment later, "why my uncle did so much for so little. don't imagine that i underrate three or four thousand dollars a year, but--money is worth only what it really brings or does. that's the common-sense view of the matter, isn't it?" "yes; i can't see anythin' the matter with it." "but uncle got nothing for his money but ordinary food, clothes, and shelter, and seems to have worked as hard as any overworked laborer." "well, i reckon he was doin' what the rest of us do in one way or other; he was countin' on what there might be in the future. he b'lieved in a good time comin'." "yes,--in heaven, perhaps, but not here." "that's where you're mistaken, for he did expect it here--right here, in claybanks." philip looked incredulous, and asked:-- "from what?" "well, he could remember when chicago was as small as claybanks is now, an' had a good deal more swamp land to the acre, too--an' now look at it! he'd seen st. paul an' minneapolis when both of 'em together could be hid in a town as big as claybanks--but now look at 'em!" "but st. paul and minneapolis had an immense water-fall and water-power to attract millers of many kinds." "well, hain't we got a crick? they calculate that with a proper dam above town, we'd have water-power nine months every year, an' there ain't nothin' else o' the kind within fifty mile. then there's our clay banks that the town was named after; they're the only banks of brick clay in the state; ev'rywhere else folks has to dig some feet down for clay to make bricks, so we ought to make brick cheaper'n any other town, an' supply all the country round--when we get a railroad to haul 'em out. they're not as red as some, bein' really brown, but they're a mighty sight harder'n any red brick, so they're better for foundations an' for walls o' big buildings. chicago didn't have no clay banks nor water-power, but just look at her now! all that made her was her bein' the first tradin' place in the neighborhood; well, so's claybanks, an' it's been so for forty year or more, too, so its time must be almost come. your uncle 'xpected to see it all in his time, but, like moses, he died without the sight. why, there's been three or four railroads surveyed right through here--yes, sir!" "is there any western town that couldn't say as much, i wonder?" philip asked. "mebbe not, but they hain't all got clay banks an' a crick; not many of 'em's got eleven hundred people in forty year, either. an' say--it's all right for you to talk this way with me--askin' questions an' so on, an' wonderin' if the place'll ever 'mount to anythin', but don't let out a bit of it to anybody else--not for a farm. you might's well be dead out here as not to believe in the west with all your might, an' most of all in this part of it." "thank you; i'll remember." then philip went out and walked slowly about the shabby village until he found himself in the depths of the blues. vi--the unexpected "the nicer half of the you-i seems buried in contemplation this morning," said philip at his breakfast table, the saturday before christmas. "the home-half of the you-i," grace replied, after a quick rally from a fit of abstraction, "was thinking that it saw very little of the store-half this week, except when she went to the store to look for it. was business really so exacting, or was it merely absorbing?" "'twas both, dear girl," said philip, wishing he might repeat to her all that caleb had said to him as recorded in the preceding chapter, and then scolding himself for the wish. "i wonder," grace said, "whether you know you often look as if you were in serious trouble?" "do i? i'm sorry you noticed it, but now that it's over, i don't object to telling you that if a single money package had arrived six hours later than it did, the principal general store of this county would have taken second or third place in the public esteem." "phil! was it so large a sum?" "oh, no; merely two hundred dollars, but without it i would have had to decline to buy two or three wagon-loads of dressed hogs." "'dressed hogs'! what an expression!" "quite so; still, 'tis the meatiest one known in this part of the country. i can't say, however, that 'tis an ideal one for use when ladies are present, so i beg to move the previous question. what was it?" "'twas that i've seen very little of you this week except when i've been to the store to look for you. won't the business soon be easier, as you become accustomed to it, so we may have our evenings together once more?" "i hope so," said philip. "you didn't say that as if you meant it." "didn't i? well, dear girl, to-morrow will be sunday, and you shall have every moment of my time, and 'i shall bathe my weary soul in seas of heavenly rest,' as caleb frequently sings to himself." "you poor fellow! you need more help in the store, if you don't wish to become worn out." "i don't see how any one could assist me. caleb is everything he should be, but he has given me to understand that everything really depends upon the proprietor, and the more i learn of the business, the more plainly i see that he is right." grace asked a few questions, and after philip had answered them he exclaimed:-- "you artful, inquisitive, dreadful woman! you've dragged out of me a lot of things that i'd determined you shouldn't know, for i've always had an utter contempt for men who inflict their personal troubles upon their wives. but you can imagine from what i've told you that no one but a partner could relieve me of any of my work." "then why not teach your partner the business?" "'twill be time to do that when i get one." "don't be stupid, phil," grace said, rising from her chair, going to her husband, and bestowing a little pinch and a caress. "don't you know who i mean?" "dear girl," said philip, "you're quite as clever as i,--which is no compliment,--and everybody adores you. but the idea of your dickering by the hour with farmers and other countrymen--and dickering is simply the soul of our business--is simply ridiculous." "i don't see why," grace replied, with a pout, followed by a flash in her deep brown eyes. "some of the farmers' wives 'dicker,' as you call it, quite as sharply as their husbands. am i stupider than they?" "no--no! what an idea! but--they've been brought up to it." "which means merely that they've learned it. what women have done woman can do. i hope i'm not in the way in the store when you're talking business?" "in the way! you delicious hypocrite!" "well, i've listened a lot for business' sake, instead of merely for fun. besides, i do get dreadfully lonesome in the house at times, in spite of a little work and a lot of play--at the piano. oh, that reminds me of something. prepare to be startled. a great revival effort is to begin at the church to-morrow night, and a committee of two, consisting of caleb and mr. grateway, the minister, have been to me to know--guess what they wanted." "h'm! i shouldn't wonder if they wanted you to promise to sit beside the minister, so that all the susceptible young men might be coaxed to church and then shaken over the pit and dragged into the fold. caleb and the minister have long heads." "don't be ridiculous! what they ask is that you'll have our piano moved to the church, and that you'll play the music for the hymns. there's to be a lot of singing, and the church hasn't any instrumental music, you know, and caleb has been greatly impressed by your playing." "well, i'll be--i don't know what. old fools! i wish they'd asked me direct! they'd have got a sharp, unmistakable 'no!'" "so they said; that was the reason they came to me." "and you said--" "that i'd consult you, and that if for any reason you felt that you must decline, i would play for them." "grace--somerton!" "why shouldn't i? i often played the melodeon for the choir in our village church before i went to new york." "did you, indeed? but i might have imagined it, for there seems to be nothing that you can't do, or won't attempt. but let us see where we are. you've promised, practically, that they shall have the music; if i decline to play, they'll think i'm stuck up, or something of which, for business' sake, i can't afford to be suspected. besides, when i married you i made some vows that weren't in the service, and one of them was that i never would shift any distasteful duty upon my wife. on the other hand, these methodists are a literal lot of people. they've wanted me to become a class-leader because uncle jethro was one. i believe the duties are to inflict spiritual inquisition every sunday upon specified people in the presence of one another. i escaped only by explaining that i was not a member of their denomination. but give them an inch and they'll take an ell. if i play for them that night, they'll expect me to do it the next, and again and again, probably every sunday, and i certainly shan't have our piano jogged once a week over frozen roads, with the nearest tuner at a city seventy-five miles away." "then let me tell them that you won't allow them to be disappointed, but that as you've not been accustomed to play for church singing, and i have, that i will play for them." "that means that every one in the church will stare at you, which will make your husband feel wretchedly uncomfortable. aside from that, you'll distract attention from the minister; so although i know that you personally are a means of grace--grace, itself, indeed, ha, ha!--the effect of the sermon won't be worth any more than a bag of corn-husks." "oh, phil! don't imagine that everybody sees me through your eyes. besides, except while playing i shall sit demurely on a front bench, with my back to the congregation." so caleb and the minister were rejoiced, and spread the announcement throughout the town, and grace rehearsed the church's familiar airs to all the hymns on the list which the minister gave her, though some of them she had to learn by ear, by the assistance of caleb, who whistled them to her. soon after dark on sunday night six stalwart sinners, carefully selected by caleb, exulted in the honor of carrying the little upright piano to the church, where they remained so as to be sure of seats from which to hear the music. the methodist church edifice in claybanks could seat nearly three hundred people and give standing room to a hundred more. seldom had it been filled to its extreme capacity; but when the opening hymn was "given out" on the night referred to, the building was crowded to the doors and a hundred or more persons outside begged and demanded that windows and doors should remain open during the singing. pastor grateway, who had been in the ministry long enough to make the most of every opportunity, improved this occasion to announce that according to custom in all churches possessing instruments, the music of each hymn would be played before the singing began. grace, quite as uncomfortable as her husband would have been in her place, was nevertheless familiar with the music and the piano, and the congregation rose vociferously to the occasion. even the sinners sang, and one back-seat ruffian, who had spent a winter in a city and frequented concert saloons, became so excited as to applaud at the end of the first hymn, for which he was promptly tossed through an open window by his more decorous comrades. the hymn after the prayer was equally effective, so the minister interpolated still another one after the scripture reading called the "second lesson." he, too, had been uplifted by the music--so much uplifted that he preached more earnestly than usual and also more rapidly, so as to reach the period of "special effort." at the close of the sermon he said:-- "as we sing the hymn beginning 'come, ye sinners, poor and needy,' let all persons who wish to flee from the wrath to come, and desire the prayers of true believers, come forward and kneel at the mourners' bench." the hymn was sung, and two or three persons approached the altar and dropped upon their knees. as the last verse was reached, caleb whispered to the minister, who nodded affirmatively; then he whispered to grace, who also nodded; then he found philip, who was seated near the front, to be within supporting distance of his wife, and whispered:-- "give your wife a spell for a minute; play 'am i a soldier of the cross' the way you did the other day for me. that'll fetch 'em!" philip frowned and refused, but caleb snatched his hand in a vise-like grasp and fairly dragged him from his seat. half angry, half defiant, yet full of the spirit of any man who finds himself "in for it," whatever "it" may be, philip dropped upon the piano stool which grace had vacated, and attacked the keys as if they were sheaves of wheat and he was wielding a flail. he played the music as he had played it to caleb, with the accent and swing of a march, yet with all the runs and variations with which country worshippers are wont to embroider it, and the hearers were so "wrought up" by it that they began the hymn with a roaring "attack" that was startling even to themselves. grace, seeing no seat within reach, and unwilling to turn her back to the people, retired to one end of the piano, under one of the candles, from which position, on the raised platform in front of the pulpit, she beheld a spectacle seldom seen in its fulness except by ministers during a time of religious excitement--a sea of faces, many of them full of the ecstacy of faith and anticipation, others wild with terror at the doom of the impenitent. like most large-souled women, grace was by nature religious and extremely sympathetic, and unconsciously she looked pityingly and beseechingly into many of the troubled faces. her eyes rested an instant, unconsciously, on those of one of the stalwart sinners who had brought the piano to the church. in a second the man arose, strode forward, and dropped upon his knees. grace looked at another,--for the six were together on one bench,--and he, too, came forward. then a strange tumult took possession of her; she looked commandingly at the others in succession, and in a moment the entire six were on their knees at the altar. "great hell!" bellowed the ruffian who had been tossed through the window, into which he had climbed halfway back in his eagerness to hear the music. then he tumbled into the church, got upon his feet, and hurried forward to join the other sinners at the mourners' bench, which had already become so crowded that caleb was pressing the saints from the front seats to make room for coming penitents. the hymn ended, but philip did not know it, so he continued to play. grace whispered to him, and when he had reached the last bar, which he ended with a crash, he abruptly seated himself on the pulpit steps and felt as if he had done something dreadful and been caught in the act. grace reseated herself at the instrument; and as the minister, with the class leaders, sunday-school teachers, and other prominent members of the church were moving among the penitents, counselling and praying, and the regular order of song and prayer had been abandoned or forgotten, she played the music of the hymns that had been designated by the minister on the previous day. some of the music was plaintive, some spirited, but she played all with extreme feeling, whether the people sang or merely listened. she played also all newer church music that had appealed to her in recent years, and when, at a very late hour, the congregation was dismissed, she suddenly became conscious of the most extreme exhaustion she had ever known. as she and her husband were leaving the church, one of the penitents approached them and said:-- "bless the lord for that pianner--the lord an' you two folks." "amen!" said several others. philip and grace walked home in silence; but when they were within doors, philip took his wife's hands in his, held them apart, looked into grace's eyes, which seemed to be melting, and exclaimed:-- "grace somerton--my wife--a revivalist!" "is saul also among the prophets?" grace retorted, with a smile which seemed to her husband entirely new and peculiar. "it was your music that started the--what shall i call it?" vii--an active partner the piano remained at the church several days, for the revival effort was too successful to be discontinued. night after night grace played for saints and sinners, and the minister, who was far too honest to stretch the truth for the sake of a compliment, told her that the playing drew more penitents than his prayers and sermons. caleb remained faithful to his duties at the store every day, but the sound of the church bell in the evening made him so manifestly uneasy, and eager to respond, that philip volunteered to look after all customers and loungers who might come in before the customary time for closing. but customers and loungers were few; for the church was temporarily the centre of interest to all of the good and bad whose evenings were free. there was no other place for philip himself to go after the store was closed, for was not his wife there? besides, the work soon began to tell on grace; for the meetings were long, and the air of the tightly packed little church became very stifling, so philip sometimes relieved grace so that she might go to the door for fresh air. "do you know what you two have done, with your pianner-playin'?" asked caleb, when the revival concluded. "you've not only snatched a lot of sinners that have been dodgin' ev'rybody else for years, but folks is so grateful to you that four or five customers of other stores are goin' to give you their trade the comin' year. i was sure 'twould work that way, but i didn't like to tell you." "i'm glad you didn't; for if you had, the music would have stopped abruptly. there are places to draw the line in advertising one's business,--my business,--and the church is one of them." "good! that's just the way i thought you'd feel, but i'm mighty glad to know it for sure. church singin' 'll be mighty dismal, though, when you take that pianner back home." as caleb spoke, he looked beseechingly at philip, who utterly ignored the look and maintained an impassive face. then caleb transferred his mute appeal to grace, who looked troubled and said:-- "there ought to be some way out of it." "where there's a will, there's a way," caleb suggested. philip frowned, then laughed, and said:-- "suppose you think up a way--but don't let there be any delay about getting the piano back to the house." "well, it's a means of grace at the church." "so it is at home, and i need all the means of grace i can get, particularly those that are nearest home, while i am breaking myself in to a new business." caleb had the piano brought back to the parlor, but he reverted to it again and again, in season and out of season, until philip told grace that there was no doubt that his uncle was right when he wrote that caleb would sometimes insist on being helped with projects of his own. "that wasn't all," grace replied. "he wrote also that he advised you to give caleb his way at such times, or your life would be made miserable until you did, and that the cost of caleb's projects would not be great." "h'm! i wonder if uncle knew the cost of a high-grade upright piano? besides, i need all my time and wits for the business, and caleb's interruptions about that piano are worrying the life out of me. to make matters worse, there's a new set of commercial travellers coming in almost every day--this is the season, while country merchants are beginning to get money, in which they hope to make small sales for quick pay, and they take a lot of my time." "you ought to have a partner--and you have one, you know--to see those people for you; and she will do it, if you'll let her." "my partner knows that she may and shall do whatever she likes," said philip, "but, dear girl, 'twould be like sending a sheep among wolves to unloose that horde of drummers upon you." "i've had to deal with men, in some city stores in which i worked," grace replied, "and some of them reminded me of wolves--and other animals; but i succeeded in keeping them in their places. i know the private costmarks on all of our goods, and i know the qualities of many kinds of goods better than you or caleb, and both of you will be within call for consultation whenever i'm puzzled; so let me try. 'twill give me an excuse to spend all of my spare time in the store; so whenever a drummer comes in, you can refer him to me. say i'm the buyer for the concern. 'twill sound big; don't you think so?" "indeed i do! i wonder where a young woman got such a head for business." "strange, isn't it," grace replied, with dancing eyes which had also a quizzical expression, "as she's been several years behind counters, great and small, and listened to scores of buyers and drummers haggle over fractions of a cent in prices?" "and for about that much time," said philip, reminiscently, "her husband was a mere clerk and correspondent, yet thought himself a rising business man! have your own way, partner--managing partner, i ought to say." the next day was a very busy one, yet caleb found time to say something about instrumental music as a means of grace in churches, and to get a sharp reply. several commercial travellers came in and were astonished at being referred to a handsome, well-dressed young woman. grace disposed of them rapidly and apparently without trouble. when husband and wife sat down to supper, philip said:-- "how did the managing partner get along to-day?" "i bought very little," grace replied. "you saved caleb and me a lot of time. i've never seen caleb so active and spirited as he has been this afternoon. it made me feel guilty, for i was rude to him this morning for the first time. just when i was trying to think my hardest about something, he brought up again the subject of the church and the piano." "poor caleb! but he won't do it again, for i've settled the matter." "you've not been tender-hearted enough to give up the piano?" "oh, no, but i--we, i mean--have taken the county agency for a cabinet-organ firm." "i see--e--e! and you're going to torment the church into buying one, and you and caleb are going to get up strawberry festivals and such things to raise the money, and the upshot will be that i'll have to subscribe a lot of cash to make up the deficiency. ah, well, peace will be cheap at--" "phil, dear, don't be so dreadfully previous. the bargain is that the firm shall send us, without charge, a specimen instrument, which i've promised to display to the best advantage, and i've also promised to give elementary instruction to every one who manifests interest in it." "grace somerton! the house will be full from morning till night. country people will throng about such an instrument like children about a hand-organ. 'twill be the end of your coming into the store to talk to the drummers, or even to see me." "oh, phil! where are your wits? i'm going to have the organ kept at the church, and let the most promising would-be learners and possible buyers do their practising there. the organ firm sells on instalments; we'll guarantee the instalments, for i'll select the buyers--who will want only smaller instruments--from among women who bring us chickens and butter and eggs and feathers and such things. so the church will be sure of an instrument more appropriate to congregational singing than a piano, and our piano won't be coveted, and we will make a little money, and by the time the next revival season arrives there will be at least a few people who can play, and perhaps some who are accustomed to closed windows and stuffy air, and won't get splitting headaches and lose five pounds of weight in a week, as i did." "allow me to catch my breath!" said philip. "give me some tea, please, quick!--no milk or sugar. i hope 'tis very strong. you've planned all this, yet there you sit, as natural and unassuming as if you'd never thought of anything but keeping house and being the sweetest wife in the world!" "thank you, but shouldn't sweetness have any strength and character? and what is business for, i should like to know, but to enable women to keep house--and keep their pianos, if they have any?" "caleb," said philip, on returning to the store, "i want to apologize for answering you rudely this morning about that enraging piano. i was in a hard study over--" "don't mention it," said caleb, with a beatific smile. "besides, 'providence tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,' as the bible says in hundreds of different ways. i s'pose your wife's told you what she's done about music for the church? je--ru--salem! ain't she a peeler, though?" "she is indeed--if i may assume that a 'peeler' is an incomparable combination of goodness and good sense." "that's about the meanin' of it, in my dictionary." then caleb fixed his eyes inquiringly upon philip's face and kept them there so long that philip asked:-- "what now, caleb?" "nothin'," said caleb, suddenly looking embarrassed. "that is, nothin' that's any o' my business." "if 'twas mine, you needn't hesitate to mention it. you and i ought to be fair and frank with each other." "well," said caleb, counting with a stubby forefinger the inches on a yardstick, "i was only wonderin'--that is, i want to say that you're a good deal of a man, an' one that i'm satisfied it's safe to tie to, an' i'm mighty glad you're in your uncle's place, but--for the land's sake, how'd you come to git her?" philip laughed heartily, and replied:-- "as most men get wives. i asked her to marry me. first, of course, i put my best foot forward, for a long time, and kept it there." "of course. but didn't the other fellers try to cut you out?" "quite likely, for most men have eyes." "wa'n't any of 'em millionnaires?" "probably not, though i never inquired. as she herself has told you, mrs. somerton was a saleswoman. millionnaires do their courting in their own set, where saleswomen can't afford to be." "that was great luck for you, wasn't it? are there any women like her in their set?" "i don't doubt they think so. mrs. somerton says there are plenty of them in every set, rich and poor alike. as for me,--'there's only one girl in the world'--you've heard the song?" "can't say that i have," caleb replied, suddenly looking thoughtful, "but the idea of it's straight goods an' a yard wide. well, sir, it's plain to me, an' pretty much ev'rybody else, that that wife o' yourn is the greatest human blessin' that ever struck these parts. good women ain't scarce here; neither is good an' smart women. i s'pose our folks look pretty common to you, 'cause of their clothes, but they improve on acquaintance. speakin' o' clothes--ev'rybody, even the best o' folks, fall short o' perfection in some particular, you know. the only way mis' somerton can ever do any harm, 'pears to me, is by always bein' so well dressed as to discourage some other women, an' makin' a lot of the gals envious an' discontented. she don't wear no di'monds nor gewgaws, i know, but for all that, she looks, day in an' day out, as if she was all fixed for a party or sunday-school picnic, an'--but, say, 'i shouldn't wonder if i was on dangerous ground,' as one of our recruits remarked to me at gettysburg after most of our regiment was killed or wounded." "aha!" exclaimed philip, when he rejoined his wife after the store closed for the day. "'pride must have a fall'--that is, supposing you were proud of silencing caleb concerning the piano. he has a torment in preparation for you, personally. he thinks you dress too handsomely--wear party clothes every day, and are likely to upset the heads of the village girls, and some women old enough to know better." "nonsense!" exclaimed grace, flushing indignantly. "i've absolutely no clothes but those i owned when we were poor. i thought them good enough for another season, as no one here would have seen them before, and none of them was very badly worn." she arose, stood before the chamber mirror, and said:-- "this entire dress is made of bits of others, that were two, three, or four years old, and were painfully cheap when new." "even if they weren't," said philip, "they were your own, and earned by hard work, and if ever again caleb opens his head on the subject, i'll--" "no, you won't! i don't know what you were going to do, but please don't. leave master caleb to me." "you don't expect to reason him into believing that you're less effectively dressed than you are?" "i expect to silence him for all time," grace replied, again contemplating herself in the mirror, and appearing not dissatisfied with what she saw. the next day she asked caleb which, if any, of the calicoes in the store were least salable; the cheapest, commonest stuff possible, for kitchen wear. caleb "reckoned" aloud that the best calico was cheap enough for the store-owner's wife, but grace persisted, so she was shown the "dead stock,"--the leavings of several seasons' goods,--from which she made two selections. caleb eyed them with disfavor, and said:-- "that purple one ain't fast color; the yaller one is knowed all over the county as the scare-cow calico. we might 'a' worked it off on somebody, if the first an' only dress of it we sold hadn't skeered a cow so bad that she kicked, an' broke the ankle of the gal that was milkin' her." "never mind, caleb; the purple one can afford to lose some of its color, and--oh, i'll see about the other." three days later grace, enveloped in a water-proof cloak, hurried through a shower from the house to the store, and on entering the back room, threw off the cloak. caleb, who was drawing vinegar from a barrel, arose suddenly, with a half-gallon measure in his hands, and groaned to see his employer's wife, "dressed," as he said afterward, "like a queen just goin' onto a throne, though, come to think of it, i never set eyes on a queen, nor a throne, either." more deplorable still, she looked proud, and conscious, and as if demanding admiration. there was even a suspicion of a wink as she exclaimed:-- "be careful not to let any of that vinegar run over and splash near me, caleb! you know the purple isn't fast color!" "je--ru--salem!" exclaimed caleb, dropping the measure and its contents, which grace escaped by tripping backward to the shelter of a stack of grain-sacks. when she emerged, with a grand courtesy followed by a long, honest laugh, caleb continued:-- "well, i've read of folk's bein' clothed in purple an' fine linen, but purple an' scare-cow knocks me flat! dressed in 'dead stock,' from head to foot, an' yit--hello, philip! come in here! oh! you're knocked pretty flat, too, ain't you? well, i just wanted to take back what i said the other day about some folk's clothes. i don't b'lieve a dress made of them grain-sacks would look common on her!" "how stupid of me!" grace exclaimed. "why didn't i think of the grain-sacks? i might have corded the seams with heavy dark twine, or piped them with red carpet-binding." "i don't know what cordin' an' pipin' is," said caleb, "but after what i've seen, i can believe that you'd only need to rummage in a big rag-bag awhile to dress like a queen--or look like one." viii--the pork-house cold weather and the pork-packing season had arrived, and the lower floor of somerton's warehouse was a busier place than the store. at one side "dressed" hogs, unloaded from farmers' wagons, were piled high; in the centre a man with a cleaver lopped the heads and feet from the carcasses, and divided the remainder into hams, shoulders, and sides, which another man trimmed into commercial shape; a third packed the product in salted layers on the other side. at the rear of the room two men cut the trimmings, carefully separating the lean from the fat, and with the latter filled, once in two or three hours, some huge iron kettles which sat in a brick furnace in the corner. at similar intervals the contents of the kettles were transferred to the hopper of a large press, not unlike a cider press, and soon an odorous wine-colored fluid streamed into a tank below, from which it was ladled through tin funnels into large, closely hooped barrels. the room was cold, despite the furnace; the walls, windows, and ceiling were reminiscent of the dust and smell of many pork-packing seasons. early in the season philip had dubbed the pork-packing floor "bluebeard's chamber," and warned his wife never to enter it. after a single glance one day, through the street door of the warehouse, grace assured her husband that the prohibition was entirely unnecessary. she also said that she never had been fond of pork, but that in the future she would eschew ham, bacon, sausage, lard, and all other pork products. when the sound of rapid, heavy hammering was audible in the somerton sitting room and parlor, and when grace asked where it came from, philip replied, "the pork-house;" the cooper was packing barrels of sides, hams, or shoulders for shipment, or tightening the hoops of lard-barrels which were inclined to leak. when grace wondered whence came the great flakes of soot on table-linen which had been hung out of doors to dry, philip replied, "the pork-house;" probably the fire in the furnace was drawing badly and smoking too much. frequently, when she went to the store and asked caleb where her husband was, the reply would be, "the pork-house." if philip reached home late for a meal, and grace asked what had kept him, he was almost certain to reply, "the pork-house," and if, as frequently occurred later in the season, he retired so late that grace thought she had slept through half the night, he groaned, in answer to her inevitable question, "the pork-house." then came a day when grace detected an unfamiliar and unpleasing odor in the house. she suspected the napkins, then the tablecloth, and examined the rug under the dining-room table for possible spots of butter. next she inspected the kitchen, which she washed and scoured industriously for a full day. occasionally she detected the same odor in the store, as if she had carried it with her from the house, so she examined her dresses minutely, for the odor was reminiscent of cookery of some kind, although she had but a single dress for kitchen wear, and never wore it out of the house. she mentioned the odor to philip, but he was unable to detect it in the air. one day it inflicted itself upon her even in church, and became so obnoxious that she spoke of it, instead of the sermon, as soon as the congregation was dismissed. "i'm very sorry, dear girl, that you're so tormented," said philip. "i wish i could identify the nuisance; then possibly i could find means to abate it. i know an odor is hard to describe, but do try to give me some clew to it." "it reminds me somewhat of stale butter," grace replied slowly, "and of some kinds of greasy pans, and of burned meat, and of parts of some tenement-house streets in the city, and some ash-cans on city sidewalks on hot summer mornings--oh, those days!--and of--i don't know what else." "you've already named enough to show that 'tis truly disgusting and dreadful, and i do wish you and i could exchange the one of the five senses which is affected by it, for i never had much sense of smell." by this time they were at home. philip was unclasping his wife's cloak when grace exclaimed suddenly:-- "there it is!" "there what is?" "that dreadful odor! why, phil, 'tis on your coat-sleeve! what, in the name of all that's mysterious--" "that was my best coat in the city last winter, and i've never worn it here, except on sundays." "then it must have taken the odor from some other garment in your closet." philip hurriedly brought his ordinary weekday coat to the sitting room, grace moved it slowly, suspiciously, toward her nose, and soon exclaimed:-- "there it is--ugh! but what can it be?" at that instant a well-known knock at the door announced caleb, who had been invited to sunday dinner. "don't be shocked, caleb," said philip; "we're not mending clothes on sunday. 'twill scarcely be an appetizer, apparently, but won't you pass this coat to and fro before your face a moment, and detect an odor, if you can, and tell us what it is?" caleb took the coat, did as requested, touched the cloth with his nose, and replied:-- "the pork-house." "what do you mean?" philip asked, while grace turned pale. "it's the smell of boilin' fat, from the lard-kettles. it's powerful pervadin' of ev'rythin', specially woollen clothes, an' men's hair, when the pork-house windows an' doors are shut. it makes me mortal sick sometimes, when the malary gets a new grip on me; at such times i know a pork-house worker when i pass him in the street in the dark. to save myself from myself i used to wear an oilcloth jacket an' overalls when i worked in the pork-house--your uncle an' i used to have to put in a good many hours there. there was somethin' else i used to do too, when i got to my room, though i never dared to tell your uncle, or he'd never ha' stopped laughin' at me." "what was it? tell me--quick!" said philip. "why, i bought a bottle of floridy water out of the store,--it's a stuff that some of the gals use,--an' i sprinkled a little ev'ry day, mornin' an' evenin', on the carpet." philip hurried to a bed-chamber, and came back with grace's cologne-bottle, the contents of which he bestowed upon the rug under the dining table. "that ort to kill the rat," said caleb, approvingly. the dinner was a good one, but grace ate sparingly, though she talked with animation and brilliancy unusual even for her, philip imagined. for himself, he felt as he thought a detected criminal, an outcast, must feel. excusing himself abruptly, he relieved his feelings somewhat by throwing out of doors the offending coat and the garments pertaining to it; then he threw out all the woollen garments of his wardrobe. caleb was not due at sunday school until three o'clock, but he excused himself an hour early. as he started, he signalled philip in a manner familiar in the store, to follow him, and when both were outside the door, he said:-- "i reckon she needs quinine, or somethin'. touchiness 'bout smells is a sign. i'd get doc taggess to come down, if i was you." philip thanked him for the suggestion; then he hurried to the bath-room, washed his hair and mustache, and exchanged his clothes for a thinner suit which he exhumed from a trunk. it was redolent of camphor, which he detested, but it was "all the perfumes of araby" compared with--the pork-house. then he rejoined grace and made haste to officiate as assistant scullion, and also to ejaculate:-- "that infernal pork-house!" "don't talk of it any more to-day," grace said, with a piteous smile. "how can i help it, when--" "but you must help it, phil dear. really you must." philip made haste to change the subject of conversation, and to cheer his wife and escape from his own thoughts he tried to be humorous, and finally succeeded so well that he and grace became as merry in their little kitchen as they ever had been anywhere. indeed, grace recovered her spirits so splendidly that of her own accord she recalled the pork-house, and said many amusing things about "bluebeard's chamber," and told how curious and jealous philip's prohibition had made her, and philip replied that it contained more trunkless heads than the fateful closet of bluebeard, and that it was a treasure-house besides; for through it passed most of the store's business that directly produced money. then he dashed at the piano and played a lot of music so lively that it would have shocked the church people had they heard it, and grace lounged in an easy-chair, with her eyes half closed, looking the picture of dreamy contentment. later she composed herself among the pillows of a lounge, and asked philip to throw an afghan over her, and sit beside her, and talk about old times in the city, and then to remind her of all their newer blessings, because she wished to be very, fully, reverently grateful for them. philip was not loath to comply with her request; for though the month's work had been very exacting and hard, he had been assured by caleb, within twenty-four hours, that it was the largest and most profitable month of business that the somerton store had ever done, and that beyond a doubt the new proprietor had "caught on," and held all the old customers, and of his own ability secured several new ones, which proved that the people of the town and county "took to" him. all this philip repeated to grace, who dreamily said that it was very good, and a satisfaction to have her husband prominent among men, instead of a nobody--a splendid, incomparable, adorable one, but still really a nobody, among the hundreds of thousands of men in new york. then both of them fell to musing as the twilight deepened. musing, twilight, and temporary relief from the strain of the week's work combined to send philip into a gentle doze, from which he suddenly roused himself to say:-- "what are you laughing at, miss mischief?" "i'm--not--laughing," grace replied. "crying? my dear girl, what is the matter?" "i'm--not--crying. i'm--merely--shivering. i'm cold." "that's because you've a brute of a husband, who has been so wrapped up in his affairs and you that probably he has let the fire go out." he made haste to replenish the stove and to throw over his wife a traveller's rug. then he lighted a shaded candle, looked at the thermometer, and said:-- "how strange! the mercury stands at seventy-two degrees." but grace continued to shiver, and, stranger still, she felt colder as the fire burned up and additional covers were placed upon her. finally she exclaimed:-- "oh, phil! i'm frightened! this is something--different from--ordinary cold. it must be some--something like--paralysis. i can't move my arms or feet." "i'll run for doctor taggess at once!" said philip; but as he started from the room, grace half screamed, half groaned:-- "don't leave me, if you--love me! don't let me--die--alone!" "at least let me go to the door and raise a shout; some one will hear me, and i'll send him for the doctor." as he opened the door he saw a light in the window of caleb's room, over the store. quickly seizing the cord of the alarm signal, of which caleb had previously told him, he pulled several times, and soon caleb, finding the door ajar, entered the room. "won't you get the doctor, caleb--quick?" said philip. "we're awfully frightened; my wife has a strange, dreadful attack of some kind. it acts like paralysis." caleb, glancing toward the lounge, saw the quivering covers and grace's face. "poor little woman!" he said, with the voice of a woman. "but don't be frightened. 'tisn't paralysis. it's bad enough, but it never kills. i know the symptoms as well as i know my own right hand, an' doctor'll do more good later in the evenin' than now." "but what is it, man?" "malary--fever an' ager. she's never had a chill before, i reckon?" "no--o--o," said grace, between chattering teeth. "don't wonder you was scared, then. if religion could take hold like an ager-chill, this part of the country would be a section o' kingdom-come. the mean thing about it is that it takes hardest hold of folks that's been the healthiest. try not to be scared, though; it won't kill, an' 'twon't last but a few minutes. then you're likely to drop asleep, an' wake pretty soon with a hot fever an' splittin' headache; they ain't pleasant to look forward to, but they might seem worse if you didn't foresee 'em. i'll go for doc taggess right off; if he ain't home, his wife'll send him as soon as he comes. taggess himself is the best medicine he carries; but if he's off somewhere, i'll come back an' tell your husband what to do. don't be afeared to trust me; ev'ry man o' sense in this section o' country knows what to do for fever and ager; if he didn't, he'd have to go out o' business." caleb departed, after again saying "poor little woman!" very tenderly. as for philip, he took his wife's hands in his own and poured forth a torrent of sympathetic words; but when the sufferer fell asleep, he went out into the darkness and cursed malaria, the west, and the impulse which had made him become his uncle's heir. he cursed many things else, and then concentrated the remainder of his wrath into an anathema on the pork-house. ix--a western spectre after her fever had subsided, grace went to sleep and carried into dream-land the disquieting conviction that she was to have a long period of illness, and be confined to her bed. philip had given her the medicines prescribed and obtained by caleb, for doctor taggess had gone far into the country and was not expected home until morning. then philip had lain awake far into the night, planning proper care for his precious invalid; finally he decided to get a trained nurse from new york, unless doctor taggess could recommend one nearer home. he would also get from the city a trained housekeeper; for, as already explained, there was no servant class at claybanks, and of what use was "help" when the head of the house was too ill to direct the work? he would order from the city every cordial, every sick-room delicacy, that he could think of, or the doctor might suggest. expense was not to be thought of; there was only one woman and wife in the world--to him, and she had been cruelly struck down. she should be made well, at whatever cost. meanwhile he would write the firm by which he had been employed in new york, and beg for his old position, for the reason that the climate of claybanks was seriously undermining his wife's health; afterward, as soon as grace could be moved, he would take her back to the city, and give up his claybanks property, with its train of responsibilities, privations, and miseries. when he awoke in the morning, he slipped softly from the room, which he had darkened the night before, so that the morning light should not disturb the invalid, and he moved toward the kitchen to make a fire--a morning duty with which he had charged himself and faithfully fulfilled since his first day in his uncle's house. to be in the store by sunrise, as was the winter custom of claybanks merchants, compelled philip to rise before daylight, and habit, first induced by an alarm clock, had made him wake every winter day at six, while darkness was still deep. he was startled, therefore, when he tip-toed into the dining room, to be welcomed by a burst of sunlight. evidently his wakefulness of the previous night had caused him to oversleep. hurrying to the kitchen, he was again startled, for breakfast was cooking on the stove, and at the table, measuring some ground coffee into a pot, stood grace, softly singing, as was her custom when she worked. "what?" he exclaimed, rubbing his eyes. "was it i who was ill, instead of you, or have i been bereft of my senses for a fortnight or more?" "neither, you poor, dear boy," grace replied, though without looking up. "yesterday i was more scared than hurt; to-day i feel as well as ever--really, i do." philip stepped in front of her, took her head in his hands, and looked into her face. the healthy glow peculiar to it had given place to a sickly yellow tint; her plump cheeks had flattened--almost hollowed, her eyes, always either lustrous or melting, were dull and expressionless, and her lips, usually ruddy and full, were gray and thin. as her husband looked at her, she burst into tears and hid her face on his shoulder. "i could have endured anything but that," she sobbed. "i don't think i'm vain, but it has always been so delightful to me that i could be pretty to my husband. i wasn't conceited, but i had to believe my mirror. but now--oh, i'd like to hide my face somewhere for a--" "would you, indeed?" murmured philip, tenderly. "let me hide it for you, a little at a time; i promise you that not a bit shall be neglected." "do let me breathe, phil. i don't see how you can kiss a scarecrow--and continue at it." "don't you? i could kiss a plague-patient, or the living skeleton, if grace somerton's heart was in it. i don't understand your reference to a scarecrow. your mirror must have been untruthful this morning, or perhaps covered with mist, for--see!" so saying, he detached the late mr. jethro somerton's tiny mirror from the kitchen wall and held it before his wife, whose astonishment and delight were great as she exclaimed:-- "phil, you're a witch! now i'm going to make believe that there was no yesterday, and if yesterday persists in coming to mind, i shall scold myself most savagely for having been a frightened, silly child." "you really were a very sick woman," philip replied. "i was quite as frightened at you while the chill had possession of you, and you had a raging fever afterward. you've had headaches in other days, but yesterday's was the first that made you moan." "'tis very strange. i feel quite as well to-day as ever i did. perhaps 'tis the effect of caleb's medicine. poor caleb! when he saw me, i really believe he suffered as much as i." "so it seemed to me," said philip. "i wonder how a little, sickly, always-tired man can have so much sympathy and tenderness?" "you forget that he, himself, is malaria-poisoned, as your uncle's letter said. probably he's had just such chills as mine. let's make haste to thank him." after a hurried breakfast, husband and wife went together to the store, and found caleb awaiting them at the back door. he had already seen grace's figure at the window of the sitting room. "je--ru--salem!" he exclaimed, looking intently at grace. "i never saw a worse shake than yourn, which is sayin' a mighty lot, considerin' i was born an' raised in the west. but you look just as good as new. well, there's somethin' good in ev'rythin', if you look far enough for it--even in an ager-chill." "good in a chill, indeed!" philip exclaimed. "yes; its good p'int is that it don't last long. havin' a chill's like bein' converted; if somethin' didn't shut down on the excitement pretty quick, there'd be nothin' left o' the subject. well, seein' you're here, i reckon i'd better take a look in the pork-house." "he has sprinkled the floor with florida water!" said grace, as she entered the store. "evidently he didn't doubt that i'd be well this morning, and he remembers yesterday." within an hour doctor taggess and his wife bustled into the store, and mrs. taggess hurried to grace, and said:-- "i'd have come to you yesterday, my dear, if i hadn't known i could be of no use. chills are like cyclones; they'll have their own way while they last, and everything put in their way makes them more troublesome." the doctor consulted philip, apart, as to what had been done, approved of caleb's treatment, and gave additional directions; then he turned upon grace his kind eyes and pleasant smile, which caleb had rightly intimated were his best medicines, and he said:-- "well, has doctor caleb found time to give you his favorite theory, which is that a chill or any other malarial product is a means of grace?" "caleb values his life too highly to advance such a theory at present," philip answered for his wife. "just so, just so. well, there's a time for everything, but caleb isn't entirely wrong on that subject. there are other and less painful and entirely sufficient means of grace, however, from which one can choose, so chills aren't necessary--for that particular purpose, and i hope you won't have any more of them. i'm afraid you forgot some of the advice i gave you, the first time we met, about how to take care of yourself until you had become acclimated." philip and grace looked at each other sheepishly, and admitted that they had not forgotten, but neglected. they had felt so well, so strong, they said. "just so, just so. malaria's just like satan, in many ways, but especially in sometimes appearing as an angel of light. at first it will stimulate every physical faculty of a healthy person like good wine, but suddenly--well, you know. i had my suspicions the last time i noticed your splendid complexion, but between mending broken limbs and broken heads, and old people leaving the world, and young people coming into it, i'm too busy to do all the work i lay out for myself. you may have one more chill--" "oh, doctor!" "'twon't be so bad as the first one, unless it comes to-day. they have four different and regular periods--every day, every other day, once in three days, and once in seven days, and each is worse than all of the others combined--according to the person who has it. i'll soon cure yours, whichever kind it may be, and after that i'm going to get mrs. taggess to keep you in mind of the necessary precautions against new attacks, for i've special use for you in this town and county. i wonder if caleb has told you that you, too, are a means of grace? no? well, he's a modest chap, but he'll get to it yet, and i'll back him up. this county has needed a visible standard of physical health for young women to live up to, and you entirely fill the bill." "i shouldn't wonder, doctor," said philip, while grace blushed, "that, religious though you are, you sometimes agree with the sceptic who said that if he'd been the creator of the world he'd have made health catching, instead of disease." "no, i can't say that i do. heaven knows i'm sick enough of sickness; no honest physician's bills pay him for the miseries he has to see, and think of, and fight; but health's very much like money--it's valued most by those who have to work hardest to get it: those who come by it easily are likely to squander it. i can't quite make out, by the ordinary signs, how your wife came by her own. i wonder if she'd object to telling me. i don't ask from mere curiosity, i assure you." "i'm afraid 'twill stimulate my self-esteem to tell," grace replied, with heightening color, "for i'm prouder of my health than of anything else--except my husband. i got it by sheer hard, long effort, through the necessity for six years, of going six days in the week, sick or well, rain or shine, to and from a store, and of standing up, for nine or ten hours a day while i was inside. to lose a day or two in such a store generally meant to lose one's place, so a girl couldn't afford to be sick, or even feeble." "aha! wife, did you hear that? now, mrs. somerton, claybanks and vicinity need you even more than i'd supposed. but--do try to have patience with me, for i'm a physician, you know, and what you tell me may be of great service to other young women; i won't use your name, if you object. did you have good health from the first?" "no, indeed! i was a thin, pale, little country girl when i went to the city; i'd worked so hard at school for years that all my vitality seemed to have gone to my head. work in the store was cruelly hard,--indeed, it never became easy,--and i had headaches, backaches, dizzy times--oh, all sorts of aches and wearinesses. but in a great crowd of women there are always some with sharp eyes, and clear heads, and warm hearts, and sometimes the mother-feeling besides. i wasn't the only chronically tired girl in the place; most of the others looked and felt as i did. well, some of the good women i've mentioned were perpetually warning us girls to be careful of our health, and telling us how to do it." "good! good! what did they say--in general?" "nothing," said grace, laughing, and then remaining silent a moment, as she seemed to be looking backward. "for each said something in particular. all had hobbies. one thought diet was everything; with another it was the daily bath; others harped on long and regular sleep, or avoidance of excitement, or fresh air while sleeping, or clothes and the healthiest way to wear them, or exercise, or the proper position in which to stand, or on carrying the head and shoulders high, or deep breathing, or recreation, or religion, or avoidance of the tea, cake, and candy habit." "well, well! now tell me, please, which of these hobbies you adopted." "all of them--every one of them," grace replied, with an emphatic toss of her head. "first i tried one, with some benefit, then another, and two or three more, and finally the entire collection." "hurrah!" shouted the doctor. "you can be worth more to the women hereabouts than a dozen doctors like me, if you will--and of course you will. indeed, you must. one more question,--positively the last. you couldn't have been the only woman who profited by the advice you received?" "oh, no. in any of the stores in which i worked there were some strong, wholesome, grand women who had literally fought their way up to what they were, for small pay and long hours, and weariness at night, and many other things combined to make any special effort of self-denial very, very hard--too hard for some of the girls, i verily believe. i don't think i'm narrow or easily satisfied; sometimes i've been fastidious and slow in forming acquaintances, but among all the other women i've seen, or heard of, or read about, there aren't any for whom i'd exchange some of my sister--shopgirls." "saleswomen, if you please," said philip. "well, well!" drawled the doctor, who had been looking fixedly at grace. "i don't wonder that you're what you are. come along, wife." as doctor and mrs. taggess departed, grace said to her husband:-- "that is the highest compliment that i ever had." and philip replied:-- "i hope 'tis good for chills." x--she wanted to know grace's malarial attack was soon repulsed, but the memory of that sunday chill remained vivid. so grace followed the doctor's instructions as carefully as if she were an invalid on the brink of the grave, and she compelled philip also to heed the counsel of precaution which doctor taggess had given to both. from that time forward she took personal sympathetic interest in all malarial victims of whom she heard, especially in those who purchased from the great stock of proprietary medicines in somerton's store. not infrequently a farmer or villager would be seized by a chill while talking or transacting business in the store, and grace, despite her own experience in a warm room and under many woollen coverings, could scarcely help begging him to accept the loan of heavy shawls from the store's stock, and to sit undisturbed by the fire in the back room. when she planned a sunday dinner, at which doctor taggess and his wife were to be guests, it was partly for the purpose of questioning the doctor about the origin of malaria, and of its peculiarities, which seemed almost as numerous as cases; but philip assured her that busy doctors, like other men of affairs, hated nothing so much as to "talk shop" out of business hours. fortunately she gradually became too busy to have time in which to become a monomaniac on malaria. the specimen organ arrived, and was placed in the church, to the great edification of the people. grace was for a time the only performer, but to prepare relief for herself, improve the quality of the congregational singing, and not without an eye to business, she organized an evening music class, and quickly trained several young women to play some of the simpler hymn-tunes,--and also to purchase organs on the instalment plan. from music lessons to dress-making is a far cry, but the fame of the purple and "scare-cow" dress had pervaded the county, and all the girls wanted dresses like it, which was somewhat embarrassing after the stock of the two calicoes had been exhausted. then there arose a demand for something equally lovely, pretty, nice, sweet, or scrumptious, according to the vocabulary of the demander, and eastern jobbers of calicoes and other prints and cheap dress-goods were one day astonished to receive from "philip somerton, late jethro somerton," a request for a full line of samples--the first request of the sort from that portion of the state. to be able to ask in a store, "how would you make this up?" and to get a satisfying answer, was a privilege which not even the most hopeful women of claybanks had ever dared to expect, so the "truck trade" of the town and county--the business that came of women carrying eggs, butter, chickens, feathers, etc., to the stores to barter for goods--drifted almost entirely to somerton's store, and caused john henry bustpodder, a matter-of-fact german merchant on the next block, to say publicly that if his wife should die he would shut up the store and leave it shut till he could get to new york and marry a shopgirl. by midspring grace had quite as few idle moments as her husband or caleb; for between housekeeping, music-teaching, talking with commercial travellers, and selling goods, she seldom found time to enjoy the horse and buggy that philip had bought for her, and she often told her husband, in mock complaint, that she worked longer hours than she had ever done in new york, and that she really must have an advance of pay if he did not wish her to transfer her abilities and customers to some rival establishment. yet she enjoyed the work; she had a keen sense of humor, which sharpened the same sense in others, and when women were at the counter, she frequently found excuse to start a chorus of laughter. to her husband, a customer was merely a customer; to grace he was frequently a character, and she had seen so few characters in the course of her new york experiences that she rejoiced in the change. she was sympathetic, too, so the younger women talked to her of much besides "truck" and goods. when one day a country matron rallied her on being without children, another matron exclaimed, "she's second mother to half the gals in the county"--a statement which grace repeated to philip in great glee, following it with a demure question as to the advisability of living up to her new dignity by taking to spectacles and sun-bonnets. but in her sober moments, and sometimes in the hurry of business, a spectre of malaria would suddenly intrude upon her thoughts. occasionally she saw cases of rheumatism, rickets, helpless limbs, twitching faces, and other ailments that caused her heart to ache, and prompted her to ask the cause. the answers were various: "malary"--"fever an' ager"--"malarier"--"chills"--"malaria," but the meanings were one. one day she burst in an instant from laughter into tears at seeing a babe, not a year old, shaking violently with a chill. straightway grace went to the minister--poor minister!--and demanded to know how the lord could permit so dreadful an occurrence. one day, after engaging doctor taggess in general conversation, she abruptly said, despite philip's reminder that physicians dislike "shop talk":-- "i wish you would tell me all about malaria; what it is, and where it comes from, and why we don't get rid of it." "my dear woman," the doctor replied, "ask me about electricity, of which no one knows much, and i can tell you something, but malaria is beyond my ken. i know it when i see it in human nature; that is, i treat almost all diseases as if they were malarial, and i seldom find myself mistaken, but, beyond that, malaria is beyond my comprehension." "but, doctor, it must be something, and come from somewhere." "oh, yes. 'tis generally admitted that malaria is due to an invisible emanation from the soil, and is probably a product of vegetation in a certain stage of decay. it seems to be latent in soil that has not been exposed to the air for some time,--such as that thrown from cellars and wells in process of excavation,--and all swamps are believed to be malaria breeders; for when the swamp land of a section is drained, the malarial diseases of the vicinity disappear." "then why aren't all swamps drained?" "because the work would be too expensive, in the sections where the swamps are, i suppose. look at this township, for example: while all the ground is open,--that is, not frozen,--the farmers and other people have all they can do at planting, cultivating, harvesting, etc. swamp land makes the richest soil, after it has been drained, but who's going to drain his own swamp when he already has more good land than he can cultivate? some of the farmers work at it, a little at a time, but it is slow work,--discouragingly slow,--besides being frightfully hard and disgustingly dirty." "then why doesn't the government do it?" "i thought you'd come to that, for every woman's a socialist at heart until she learns better. still, so is every man. well, governments have no money of their own; all they have is taken from the people, in the form of taxes, and any increase of taxes, especially for jobs as large as swamp drainage in this state, would be too unpopular to be voted. besides, while it would be of general benefit to the many, it would specially and greatly benefit the owners of the swamp land, which would start a frightful howl. private enterprise may be depended upon to banish swamps and malaria; but first there must be enough population, and enough increase in the value of land, to justify it. i wish 'twould do so in this county and in my day. 'twould lessen my income, but 'twould greatly increase my happiness, for doctors have hearts. by the way, have you yet heard from caleb on malaria as a means of grace? there's a chance to learn something about malaria--to hear something about it, at least; for caleb talks well on his pet subjects. poor fellow, i wish i could cure his chronic malarial troubles. i've tried everything, and he does enjoy far better health than of old, but the cause of the trouble remains. that man came of tall, broad-shouldered stock on both sides--you wouldn't imagine it, would you, to look at him? he's always been industrious and intelligent; everybody likes him and respects him; but at times it's almost impossible to extract an idea or even a word from him--all on account of malaria. again, he'll have the clearest, cleverest head in town. seems strange, doesn't it?" grace improved an early opportunity to say to caleb that perhaps she had done wrong in recovering so quickly from her attack of chills, for she had been told that he regarded malaria as a means of grace. "well, yes, i do--'bout the same way as some other things--air, an' light, an' food, an' money, for instance. anythin' that helps folks to make the most of their opportunities can be a means of grace; when it isn't, the folks themselves are the trouble. reckon nobody'll dispute that about good things. but when it comes to things that ain't popular,--like floods, an' light'nin'-strokes, an' malary,--well, folks don't seem to see it in the same light, and they suspect the malary most, 'cause it's far an' away the commonest. i've been laughed at so often for my notions on the subject that i've got hardened to it, an' don't mind standin' it again." "oh, caleb! please don't say that! you don't believe i would laugh at anything you're earnest about, do you?" "well, i don't really b'lieve you would, an' i'm much 'bliged to you for it. you see, my idee is this. you remember what's said, in one of the psalms, about they that go down to the sea in ships, and what happens to them when a big wind comes up--how they are at their wit's end, because they're in trouble too big for them to manage, so they have to call unto the lord?--somethin' that sailors ain't b'lieved to be given to doin' over an' above much, judgin' by their general conversation as set down in books an' newspapers. well, malary's like the wind, an' the spirit that's compared with it; you can't tell where it's comin' from, or when, or how long it's goin' to stay, or what it'll do before it goes. it puts a man face to face with his maker, an' just when the man can't put on airs, no matter how hard he tries. i think anythin' that kicks a man into seein' his dependence on heaven is a means of grace, even if the man's too mean to take advantage of it. when a man's shakin' with a chill that's come at him on the sly, as a chill always does, an' finds all his grit an' all the doctor's medicine can't keep him from shakin'--snatches him clean away from his own grip, which is the awfullest feelin' a man can have--" "you're entirely right about it, caleb," said grace, with a shudder. "thank you, but 'taint only the shake. it's not knowin' how the thing is goin' to come out, or how helpless it's goin' to make one, or in what way it's goin' to upset all his plans an' calculations--why, it teaches absolute dependence on a higher power, an' 'tisn't only folks that make most fuss 'bout it in church that feels it. after one gets that feelin', he's lots more of a man than he ever was before. i think malary has been the makin' of human nature out west here, an' in some parts of the east too. why, do you know that almost every one of our greatest presidents was born or brought up in malary-soaked country? washington was, i know; for i had chills all over his part of virginia, in war time, an' more'n a hundred thousand other men kept me comp'ny at it. jackson, lincoln, grant, was some of the other presidents that knowed malary better than they afterwards knowed their own cabinets. as to smaller men, but mighty big, nevertheless--all the big cities of the land's full of 'em. look up the record of a city's great business man, an' i'm told you'll find he never was born an' raised there, but in the back country somewhere, generally out west, an' nine times in ten can tell you more 'bout his ager spells than you care to hear. still, such cases don't bear on the subject o' means o' grace, though they come from the same causes. out in these parts malary does more'n ministers to fill the churches. so long as men feel first-rate, they let the church alone mighty hard, but just let 'em get into a hard tussle with malary an' they begin to come to meetin'. the worse it treats 'em, the more they come, which is just what they need. that's the way the church got me; though that ain't particularly to the p'int, for one swaller don't make a summer. but i've been watchin' the signs for twenty year, an' i'm not gettin' off guess-work when i say that malary's been one of the leadin' means o' grace in this great western country, an' of pretty much ev'rythin' else that's worth havin'; the states that have most of it produce more good people to the thousan' than any other states, besides more great men, an' great ideas, an' first-class american grit. now you can laugh if you feel the least bit like it." "i don't, caleb. but do answer me one question. if malaria has done so much good, and is doing it, do you think it ought to be preserved,--say as an american institution?" "well," said caleb, "ev'rythin' an' ev'rybody, from moses an' manna to edison an' electricity, has had a mission, an' when the work was done, the mission took a rest an' gave somethin' else the right o' way. when malary's accomplished its mission, i, for one, would like to assist in layin' it away. i think i'm entitled to a share in the job, for malary an' me has been powerful close acquaintances for a mighty long time." xi--caleb's newest project "along about now," said caleb to philip and grace one morning in midspring, "is the easiest time o' year that a merchant ever gets in these parts; for, between the earliest ploughin' for spring wheat to the latest ploughin' for corn, the farmers that 'mount to anythin' are too busy to come to town when the weather's good; when the rain gives 'em a day off from work, they've got sense enough to take a rest as well as to give one to the hosses. i thought i'd mention the matter, in case you'd had anythin' on your mind to be done, an' hadn't found time to do it." "h'm!" said philip, rubbing his forehead, as if to extract some special mental memoranda. "thank you, caleb, for the suggestion," grace said, "but i believe every foot of our garden ground is fully planted." "yes, so i've noticed. twill be a big advertisement, too, if the things turn out as good as the pictur's an' readin' matter in the plant catalogues you got; for there ain't many things in them boxes of plants you bought that was ever seen or heerd of in these parts. how'd you come to know so much about such things?" "oh, i kept window-gardens in the city all summer, and indoor gardens in winter." "i want to know! what give you that idee?" "the beauty of flowers, i suppose--and their cheapness," grace replied. "besides, flowers in the winter were a good test of the air in our rooms, for air that kills plants is not likely to be good enough for human beings." "je--ru--salem! i must tell that to doc taggess, so that word about it can get to some of our country folks. some of them keep their houses so tight shut in winter that the folks come out powerful peaked in the spring, just when they need all the stren'th they can get. but ain't you got nothin' else on your mind to do, besides exercisin' your hoss once in a while?" as he asked the question his eyes strayed from grace to philip, and an amused expression came over the little man's face, so that grace asked:-- "what is so funny in philip's appearance?" "nothin'," said caleb, quickly pretending to arrange the goods on a shelf. "don't say 'nothing' in that tantalizing way, when your every feature is saying that there is something." "out with it, caleb," said philip. "i promise that i shan't feel offended." "well, the fact is, i was thinkin' o' somethin' i overheard you tell your uncle, first time you came here. he asked you what you was goin' to the city for. 'to continue my studies,' says you. 'what studies?' says he. 'literature an' art,' says you. then jethro come pretty nigh to bustin' hisself. after you was gone he borried some cyclopeedy volumes from doc taggess, an' in odd moments he opened 'em at long pieces that was headed 'literature' an' 'art.' i watched him pretty close, to know when he was through, so i could pump him about 'em, for his sake as well as mine; for i've most generally found that a man ain't sure of what he knows till he has to tell it to somebody else. but jethro would most generally drop asleep 'long about the second or third page, an' one day he slapped one of the books shut an' hollered, 'dog-goned nonsense!' like enough he was wrong about it, though, for afterwards i dipped into the same pieces myself, a little bit at a time, and 'peared to me there was a mighty lot of pleasant things in the subjects, if one could spend his whole life huntin' for 'em." "you're quite right as to the general fact," said philip, "and also as to the time that may be given to it." "am, eh? glad i sized it up so straight. well, then, i reckon you didn't finish the job in the city, an' that you're still peggin' away at it." philip looked at grace, and both laughed as he replied:-- "i don't believe i've opened any book but the bible in the past month." "i want to know! then the hundreds of books in your house are about like money that's locked up in the safe instead o' bein' out at interest, or turnin' itself over in some other way, ain't they?" "quite so." caleb went into a brown study, and philip and grace chatted apart, and laughed--occasionally sighed--over what they had intended to buy and read, when they found themselves well off. suddenly caleb emerged from his brown study and said:-- "ain't them books like a lot of clothes or food that's locked up, doin' no good to their owner, while other folks, round about, are hungry, or shiverin'?" "caleb," said philip, after a long frown in which his wife did not join, although distinctly invited, "my practised eye discerns that you think our books, which are about as precious to us as so many children might be, ought to be lent out, to whoever would read them." "well, why not? ev'rybody else in these parts that's got books lends 'em. doc taggess does it, the minister does it, an' a lot of others. the trouble is that a good many families has got the same books. once in a while some book agent with head-piece enough to take his pay in truck has gone through this county like a cyclone--an' left about as much trash behind him as a cyclone usually does." "aha! and yet you'd have me believe that the people who have bought such trash would enjoy the books which my wife and i have been selecting with great care for years?" "can't tell till you give 'em the chance, as the darkey said when he was asked how many watermelons his family could tuck away. i don't s'pose you knowed there was the makin' of a first-class country merchant in you, did you, till you got the chance to try? besides, as i reckon i've said before, you mustn't judge our people by their clothes. i don't b'lieve they average more fools to the thousan' than city folks." "neither do i, caleb; but tastes differ, even among the wisest, and to risk my darling books among a lot of people who might think me a fool for my pains--oh, 'tis not to be thought of. next, i suppose, you'll suggest that i take my pictures from the walls and lend them around, say a week to a family." "no; i wouldn't be so mean as that. besides, pictures, an' bang-up ones, are plentifuller than books in these parts, for people that like that sort o' thing." "indeed? i wouldn't have thought it. well, 'live and learn.' do tell me what kind of pictures you refer to, and who has them?" caleb looked embarrassed for a moment; then he assumed an air of bravado, and replied:-- "well, i haven't missed a sunrise or sunset in nigh onto twenty year, unless i was too busy or too sick to see 'em. an' i've put lots o' other folks up to lookin' at 'em, an' you'd be astonished to know how many has stuck to it." "bravo, caleb! bravo!" grace exclaimed. "much obliged; reckon you enjoy 'em, too. as doc taggess says, when you look at that kind o' pictur', you don't have to hold in until you can hunt up a book an' find out if the painter was first-class. but there's plenty more pictur's in the sky an' lots o' other places out doors, for folks that like 'em. to be sure, you can't always find 'em, as if they was in frames on a wall, but they show up often enough to keep 'emselves in mind. but books--well, books are different." "caleb, i weaken. i'm willing to compromise. i promise you that i will set apart a certain number of my books--volumes that ought to be of general interest--to be loaned to customers!" "good! i knowed you'd see your duty if 'twas dumped right before your face. but what's the matter with doin' somethin' more? i've had a project for a long time, that--" caleb suddenly ceased speaking and looked hurt, for he detected a peculiar interchange of glances between philip and grace. "go on," said philip. "never mind," caleb replied. "please go on, caleb," grace begged. "i may be a fool," said caleb, "but it does gall me to be laughed at ahead of time." "really, caleb, we weren't laughing at you. both of us chanced to think, at the same time, of something--something that we had read. some husbands and wives have a way of both getting the same thought at an unforeseen instant. do go on; haven't we proved to you that we think your projects good?" "sorry i made a baby of myself," apologized caleb. "well, i've read in newspapers that books never was so cheap as they are now, an' from some of the offers that come to us by letter i should say 'twas so. i know more'n a little about the names o' books an' o' their writers, an' some of the prices o' good ones look as if the printers stole their paper an' didn't pay their help. now, we don't make much use o' the back room o' the store. s'pose you fetch in there your cyclopeedy, an' dictionary, an' big atlas, to be looked at by anybody that likes. then buy, in the city, a couple of hundred books,--say a hundred dollars' worth,--not too wise, an' not too silly, an' let it be knowed that at somerton's store there's a free circulating library." "for somerton's customers only," added philip. "no, for ev'rybody--not only for the sake o' the principle, but to draw trade. the first man that does that thing in this town won't ever be forgot by folks whose hearts are in the right place--not unless i'm all wrong on human nature." "which is as unlikely as the wildest thing ever dreamed," said philip. "i don't doubt that you're entirely right about the advertising value of your project. my atlas, dictionary, and cyclopedia will serve me quite as well in the back room as if in the house, and the cost of the other books will be repaid by the first new farmer-customer we catch by means of the library." "then the thing is to be a go?" "certainly it is." "when?" "now--at once--as soon as my books can be brought from the house and the others bought in the city." "and i," grace added, "am to be a librarian, and to select the new books. i remember well the names of all the most popular books in the public library of the little town i was born in, and all the best--never mind the worst--that my fellow-shopgirls used to read, and i know the second-hand bookshops in new york, where many good books may be had at a quarter of their original price; so if a hundred dollars is to be spent, i'll engage to get three or four hundred volumes, instead of two hundred. meanwhile, don't either of you men breathe a word of caleb's project, until the books are here; otherwise some other merchant may get ahead of us." "that's sound business sense," said caleb, "but i wish you hadn't--i mean i wish one of us had said it instead of you." "oh, caleb! do you think that my interest in the business of the store is making me sordid--mercenary--grasping?" "well, i never saw any signs of it before, but--" "nor have you seen them to-day. you'll have to take to eye-glasses, caleb, if only in justice to me. the only reason i don't wish any one else to start the library is that i think the laborer is worthy of his hire. you were the laborer--that is, you devised the plan,--and i wouldn't for anything have you deprived of your pay, which will consist of your pleasure at seeing your old acquaintances supplied with good reading matter. honor to whom honor is due. now do you understand?" caleb's small gray face grew rosy, albeit a bit sheepish, and to hide it, he tiptoed over to philip, who was staring into vacancy, apparently in search of something, and said:-- "as i b'lieve i've said before, ain't she a peeler?" "yes; oh, yes," philip answered mechanically. "you don't seem so sure of it as you might be," complained caleb. "have you struck a stump?" "no; oh, no." "what is the matter, mr. owl?" asked grace, moving toward the couple. "i'm puzzled--that's all, yet 'tis not a little," philip replied. "i don't think i'm a fool about business. even caleb here, who is too true a friend to flatter, says i've done remarkably well, and increased the number of our customers and the profits of the business, yet 'tis never i who devise the new, clever plans by which the increase comes. this matter of the free circulating library is only one of several cases in point; they began months ago, with the use of our piano in church. i don't believe i'd have done them solely with a view to business, but i couldn't have helped seeing that they would have that effect in the end, so i wonder why i, myself, shouldn't have thought of them. perhaps you can tell me, caleb; don't be afraid of hurting my feelings, and don't be over-modest about yourself; 'tis all between friends, you know." caleb leaned on the counter, from which he brushed some imaginary dust; then he contemplated the brushed spot as if he were trying to look through the counter, as he replied:-- "mebbe it's because we have different startin'-places. in a book of sermons i've got up in my room--though 'tain't by one o' our methodists--there's a passage that tells how astronomers find certain kinds o' stars. it 'pears that they don't p'int their telescopes here, there, an' ev'rywhere, lookin' for the star an' nothin' else, but they turn the big concern on a rather dark bit o' sky, somewhere near where the star ought to be, an' they work it 'round, little by little, lookin' at ev'rythin' they can see, until they've took in the whole neighborhood, so to speak, an' what stars of ev'ry kind is around, an' what all of 'em is doin', an' so workin' in'ard, little by little, they stumble on what they was really lookin' for. well, that's 'bout my way in business. first, i think about the neighborhood, the people, an' what they're doin', an' what ought to be done for 'em, an' all of a sudden they're all p'intin' right at the business, like the little stars for the big one, and couldn't keep from doin' it if they tried their level best. now, p'raps you don't work that way, but try the other, 'cause--well, p'raps 'cause it's the quickest. p'raps i ought to say that mebbe my way ain't the best, but--" "don't say it," interrupted philip, "because i shan't believe it, nor shall i believe that you yourself thought there was any possibility of its not being the better way of the two." xii--deferred hopes the library arrived, and the books were covered, labelled, numbered, and shelved before the probable beneficiaries knew of their existence; then master scrapsey green was employed to walk through the village streets, ringing a bell, and shouting:-- "free--circulating--library--now--open--at--somerton's--store!" notices to the same effect had already been mailed to all possible readers in the county. the self-appointed librarian had not believed that more than one in four of the inhabitants of the town or county would care to read, but neither had she taken thought of the consuming curiosity of villagers and country-folk. within an hour the back room of the store was packed to suffocation, although grace pressed a book on each visitor, with a request to make way for some one else. after several hours of issuing and recording, grace found herself alone; so she gladly escaped to the store proper to compare notes with philip and caleb, who had taken turns at dropping in to "see the fun," as philip called it, and to announce, at the librarian's request, that only a single book a week would be loaned to a family, and to request the borrowers to return the books as soon as read. on entering the store, grace found herself face to face with doctor and mrs. taggess and pastor grateway, all of whom greeted her cordially, and congratulated her on the successful opening of the somerton library. "that's a cruel proof of the saying that one sows and another reaps," she replied; "but please understand in future that this is not the somerton library. it is the caleb wright library." "je--ru--salem!" exclaimed caleb, "an' i didn't put a cent into it!" "you devised it," grace replied. "'twas like columbus making the egg stand on end; any one could do it after being told how." about this time some responses, in the forms of half-grown boys and girls on foot, began to arrive from the farming district, and grace had occasionally to leave the store. as she returned from one of these excursions, mrs. taggess took her hands and exclaimed:-- "what a good time you must have had!" "oh, wife!" protested the doctor. "is this the place for sarcasm? the poor girl looks tired to death." "nevertheless, mrs. taggess is entirely right," said grace. "it was a good time, indeed. how i wish i could sketch from memory! still, i shall never forget the expression of some of those faces. what a dear lot of people there are in this town!" "hurrah!" shouted the doctor. "i was afraid that, coming from the city, you mightn't be able to find it out. i apologize with all my heart." "'tis high time you did," said his wife. "the idea that a doctor, of all men, shouldn't know that a woman's heart rules her eyes." "yes," said the doctor, affecting a sigh. "it's dreadful to be a man, and know so much that sometimes an important bit of knowledge gets hidden behind something else at the very time it's most needed. how many books have you remaining, to satisfy the country demand, mrs. somerton?" "not enough, i fear. we ought to have bought one or two hundred more volumes." "which means," said philip, with a pretence at being grieved at having been forgotten during the congratulations, "that they will have to be purchased at once, and paid for, by the mere nobody of the concern." "nobody, indeed!" exclaimed grace, with a look which caused the taggesses to exchange delighted pinches, and the minister to say:-- "i don't think any one need go far to find a proof of the blessed mystery that one and one need make only one, if rightly added." "no, indeed," said the doctor, "but at least one-half of the one in question is so tired that it ought to get some rest, which it won't and can't while we visitors stay here to admire and ask questions. come along, wife; we'll find some better time to talk her and these other good people to death about what they've done. i've only to say that if brother grateway doesn't give you his benediction in words, he will leave one for you all the same, and there'll be two others to keep it company--eh, wife?" "phil," grace said, as soon as the visitors had departed, "i've a new idea. 'tis not as good as caleb's which has made this library, but 'twill give no end of surprise and satisfaction to people, as well as lots of fun to me and bring some business to the store. i want a camera. i don't see how we were so stupid as not to bring one with us from new york." "a camera?" said caleb. "what sort of a thing is it?" "a contrivance for taking photographs. there are small cheap ones that any amateur can use. two or three girls in our store in new york had them, and took some very fair pictures." "i want to know! well, if any gals done it, i reckon you can." "you shall see. i want one at once, phil; order it by the first mail, please, and with all the necessary outfit." "your will is law, my dear, but i shall first have to learn where to send the order and exactly what to get." "let me attend to it. i can order direct from the store in which i worked; they sold everything of the kind." "there'll be no mail eastward till to-morrow. won't you oblige your husband, at once, by going to the house, and making a picture of yourself, on a lounge, with your eyes shut?" "yes--if i must. but oh, what lots of fun i shall have with that camera!" caleb's eyes followed grace to the door; then he said:-- "been workin' about four hours, harder'n i ever see a sunday-school librarian work, looked tired almost to death, an' yet full to the eyes with the fun she's goin' to have. ah, that's what health can do for human nature. i wonder if you two ever know how to thank heaven that you are as you are--both well-built an' healthy? 'pears to me that if i was either of you, i'd be wicked enough, about a hundred times a day, to put up the pharisee's prayer an' thank heaven that i was not like other men." "no man can be everything, caleb," said philip. "i don't doubt that there are thousands of men who'd gladly exchange their health for your abilities." "well, i s'pose it's human nature, an' p'r'aps divine purpose too, that folks should hanker most for what they haven't got; if it wa'n't so, ev'rybody'd be a stick-in-the-mud all his life, an' nobody'd amount to much; but i do tell you that for a man to spend most of his grown-up years in makin' of himself as useful a machine as he can, an' not especially with a view to number one either, an' all the time bein' reminded that he hain't got enough steam in his b'iler to work the machine except by fits an' starts, an' there don't seem to be any way of gettin' up more steam except by gettin' a new b'iler, which ain't possible in the circumstances, why, it's powerful tough, an' that's a fact." "we can't all run thousand-horse-power engines, caleb," said philip, hoping to console his friend. "if we could, i'm afraid a great lot of the world's necessary work would go undone. watches, worked with what might be called half-mouse-power, are quite as necessary and useful in their way as big clocks run by ton weights; and a sewing machine, worked by a woman's foot, can earn quite as much, over running expenses, as a plough with a big horse in front and a big man behind it." "like enough. but the trouble with me is that the machine i've been makin' o' myself is the kind that needs an awful lot o' power, an' the power ain't there an' can't be put there." "there are plenty more machines with exactly the same defect, old chap," said philip, with a sigh, "so you've no end of company in your trouble. i could tell you of a machine of my own that lacks the proper power--sufficient steam, as you've expressed it." "i want to know! an' you the pictur' of health!" "oh, yes. health is invaluable, so far as it goes, but 'tisn't everything. going back to steam for the sake of illustration, you know it comes of several other things--water, a boiler, some fuel, and draught, each in proper proportion to all the others. i don't doubt there's a similar combination necessary to human force, and its application, and that i haven't the secret of it, for i know i've failed at work i've most wanted to do, and succeeded best at what i liked least." "reckon you must have hated storekeepin' then, for you've made a powerful go of it." "thank you; i'm not ashamed to confess to you that 'tis the last business in the world that i'd have selected." "well, as to that, there's no difference of opinion between us, an' yet, here i've been storekeepin'--an' not for myself either--'most twenty year." "and doing it remarkably well, too. as to not doing it for yourself, you may change your position and have an interest in the business whenever you wish it. i'm astonished that my uncle didn't say the same to you." "but he did--after his fashion. he meant fair, but i said 'no,' for i hadn't given up hopes of what i'd wanted to do, so i didn't want to give the store all my waking hours, as an owner ought to do most of the time." "indeed he ought. if it isn't an impertinent question, what had you selected as your life's work?" "the last thing you'd suspect me of, i s'pose. long ago--before the war--i set my heart on bein' a great preacher, an' on beginnin' by gettin' a first-class education. i don't need to tell you that i missed both of 'em about as far as a man could. i wasn't overconceited about 'em at the start, for about that time there was a powerful movement in our denomination for an educated ministry. we had a few giants in the pulpit, but for ev'ry one of 'em there was dozens of dwarfs that made laughin'-stocks of 'emselves an' the church. well, i was picked out as a young man with enough head-piece to take in an education an' with the proper spirit an' feelin' to use it well after i'd got it. just then the war broke out, an' i went to it; when i got back i had a crippled leg, an' a dull head, an' a heavy heart--afterwards i found 'twas the liver instead of the heart, but that didn't make me any the less stupid. the upshot was that i was kind o' dropped as a candidate for the ministry, an' that made me sicker yet, an' i vowed that i'd get there in the course o' time, if i could get back my health an' senses. once in a while, for many years, i had hopes; then again i'd get a knock-down--an extry hard lot o' chills an' fevers, or some other turn of malary that made my mind as blank an' flat as a new slate. i tried to educate myself, bein' rather old to go to school or college, an' i plodded through lots o' books, but i had to earn my livin' besides, an'--well, i reckon you can see about how much time a man workin' in a store has for thinkin' about what he's read." "oh, can't i!" "an' you know, now, what losin' health an' not findin' it again has been to me." "indeed i do, and you've my most hearty sympathy. perhaps good health would have seen you through; perhaps not. your experience is very like mine, in some respects. i didn't start with the purpose of being a preacher, but i was going to become educated so well that whenever i had a message of any sort to give to the world,--for every man occasionally has one, you know,--i should be able to do it in a manner that would command attention. i was fortunate enough to get into a business position in which my duties were almost mechanical, so at night my mind was fresh enough for reading and study. my wife's tastes were very like my own, so we read and studied together; but my message has never come, and here i am where the only writing i'll ever do will be in account books and business correspondence. as to my art studies--" "they help you to arrange goods on the shelves in a way that attracts attention; there can't be any doubt about that," caleb interrupted. "thank you, caleb. that is absolutely the first and only commendation that my art education has ever earned for me, and i assure you that i shall remember and prize it forever." "i'm not an art-sharp," said caleb, "but i shouldn't wonder if i could show you lots more signs of what you've learned an' think haven't come to anythin'. same way with literature; nobody in this town, but you an' your wife, could an' would have got up that circulatin' library, an' knowed the names o' three hundred good books for it. other towns'll hear of it, an' men there'll take up the idea--" "which was yours--not ours." "never mind; ideas don't come to anythin' till they're froze into facts. other merchants'll hear of the library an' write you for names o' books an' other p'ints, an' the thing'll go on an' on till it'll amount to more than most any book that was ever writ. bein' set on makin' a hit in literature an' art an' fetchin' up at dressin' store-shelves an' settin' up a circulatin' library reminds me of jake brockleband's steam engine. you hain't met jake, i reckon?" "i don't recall the name." "he's in the next county below us, near the mouth of the crick. he goes in these parts by the name of the great american traveller, for he's seen more countries than anybody else about here, an' it all came through a steam engine. it 'pears that years ago jake, who was a yankee with a knack at anythin' that was mechanical, was picked out by some new yorkers to go down to brazil to preserve pineapples on a large scale for the american market: he was to have a big salary and some shares of the company's stock. part of his outfit was a little steam engine an' b'iler an' two copper kettles as big as the lard kettles in your pork-house. well, he got to work, with the idee o' makin' his fortune in a year or two, an' pretty soon he started a schooner load o' canned pineapples up north; but most o' the cans got so het up on the way that they busted, an' when the company found how bizness was, why, 'twas the comp'ny's turn to get het up an' bust. jake couldn't get his salary, so he 'tached the engine an' kettles, an' looked about for somethin' to do with 'em. he shipped 'em up to a city in venezuela, where there was plenty of cocoanut oil and potash to be had cheap, and started out big at soap-makin', but pretty soon he found that the venezuelans wouldn't buy soap at any price: they hadn't been educated up to the use of such stuff. but there wa'n't no give-up blood in jake, so he packed the engine an' soap over to a big town in colombia--next country to venezuela,--an' started a swell laundry, i b'lieve he called it,--a place where they wash clothes at wholesale. he 'lowed that as colombia was a very hot country, an' the people was said to be of old spanish stock an' quite up to date, there'd be a powerful lot o' stockin's an' underclothes to be washed. soon after he'd hung out his shingle, though, he heerd that no colombians wore underclothes, an' mighty few of 'em wore socks. "well, 'never say die' was jake's family brand, so he built a boat with paddle-wheels an' fitted the steam engine to it, an' started in the passenger steamboat business on a colombian river; the big copper kettles he fixed, one on each side, with awnin's over 'em, to carry passengers' young ones, so they couldn't crawl about an' tumble overboard. he did a good business for a spell, but all of a sudden the revolution season come on an' a gang of the rebels seized his boat, an' the gov'ment troops fired on 'em an' sunk it. "but jake managed to save the engine an' kettles, an' thinkin' 'twas about time to go north for a change, he got his stuff up to new orleans, where he got another little boat built to fit the engine, an' started up-stream in the tradin'-boat business. he got along an' along, an' then up the missouri river; but when he got up near the mouth of our crick he ran on a snag, close inshore, that ripped the bottom an' sides off o' the boat an' didn't leave nothin' that could float. "that might have been a deadener, if jake had been of the dyin' kind, but he wasn't; an' as he was wrecked alongside of a town an' a saw-mill, he kept his eye peeled for business, an' pretty soon he'd put up a slab shanty, an' got a little circular saw, for his engine to work, an' turned out the first sawed shingles ever seen in these parts, an' when folks saw that they didn't curl up like cut shingles, he got lots o' business an' is keepin' it right along. "''tain't makin' me a millionnaire,' he says, 'an' the sight o' pineapples would make me tired, but at last i've struck a job that me an' the engine fits to a t, an' an angel couldn't ask more'n that, if he was in my shoes.'" "that story, caleb," said philip, "is quite appropriate to my case. but see here, old chap, didn't it ever occur to you to apply it to yourself?" "can't say that it did," caleb replied. "what put that notion into your head?" "everybody and everything, my own eyes included. you started to be a preacher--not merely for the sake of talking, but for the good that your talk would do. i hear from every one that for many years you've been everybody's friend, doing all sorts of kind, unselfish acts for the good of other people. mr. grateway says that your work does more good than his preaching, and doctor taggess says you cure as many sick people as he. it seems to me that your disappointments, like jake brockleband's, have resulted in your finding a place that fits you to a t." "i want to know! well, i'm glad to hear it--from you. kind o' seems, then, as if you an' me was in the same boat, don't it?" xiii--farmers' ways as the spring days lengthened there was forced upon grace a suspicion, which soon ripened into a conviction, that the west was very hot. she had known hot days in the east; for is there in the desert of sahara any air hotter than that which overlies the treeless, paved streets, walled in by high structures of brick, stone, and iron, of the city of new york? but in new york the wind, on no matter how hot a day, is cool and refreshing; at claybanks and vicinity the wind was sometimes like the back-draught of a furnace, and almost as wilting. to keep the wind out of the house--not to give it every opportunity to enter, as had been the summer custom in the east--became grace's earnest endeavor, but with little success. at times it seemed to her that the heat was destroying her vitality; her husband, too, feared for her health and insisted that she should go east to spend the summer; but grace insisted that she would rather shrivel and melt than go away from her husband, so philip appealed to doctor taggess, who said:-- "quite womanly, and wifely, and also sensible, physiologically, for no one can become climate-proof out here if he dodges any single season. if your wife will follow my directions for a few months, she will be able to endure next season's heat well enough to laugh at it. indeed, it might help her through the coming summer to make excuses to laugh at it: she's lucky enough to know how to laugh at slight provocation." but the dust! grace could remember days when new york was dusty, and any one who has encountered a cloud of city dust knows that it is of a quality compared with which the dust of country roads is the sublimation of purity. nevertheless, the dust at claybanks had some eccentric methods of motion. for it to rise in a heavy, sullen cloud whenever a wagon passed through a street was bad enough, especially if the wind were in the direction of the house. almost daily, however, and many times a day, it was picked up by little whirlwinds that came from no one knew where, and an inverted cone of dust, less than a foot in diameter at the base, but rapidly increasing in width to the height of fifty or more feet, would dash rapidly along a street, or across one, picking up all sorts of small objects in its way--leaves, bits of paper, sometimes even bark and chips. at first grace thought these whirlwinds quite picturesque, but when one of them dashed across her garden, and broke against the side of the house, and deposited much of itself through the open windows, the lover of the picturesque suddenly began to extemporize window-nettings. with the heat and the dust came a plague of insects and one of reptiles. one day the white sugar on the table seemed strangely iridescent with amber, which on investigation resolved itself into myriads of tiny reddish yellow ants. caleb, who was appealed to, placed a cup of water under each table leg, which abated the plague, but the cups did not "compose" with the table and the rug. bugs of many kinds visited the house, by way of the windows and doors, until excluded by screens. at times the garden seemed fuller of toads than of plants, and not long afterward grace was frightened almost daily by snakes. that the reptiles scurried away rapidly, apparently as frightened as she, did not lessen her fear of them. she expressed her feelings to doctor taggess, who said:-- "don't let them worry you. they're really wonderfully retiring by disposition. this country is alive with them, but in my thirty years of experience i've never been called to a case of snake-bite." "but, doctor, isn't there any means of avoiding the torment of--snakes, toads, bugs, and ants?" "only one, that i know of--'tis philosophy. try to think of them as illustrations of the marvellous fecundity of the great and glorious west." "how consoling!" "i don't wonder you're sarcastic about it. still, they'll disappear in the course of time, as they have from the older states." "but when?" "oh, when the country becomes thoroughly subdued and tilled." "again i must say, 'how consoling!'" besides the wind, and dust, and insects, and reptiles, there was the sun, for jethro somerton had never planted a tree near his house. tree-roots had a way of weakening foundations, he said; besides, trees would grow tall in the course of time, and perhaps attract the lightning. still more, trees shaded roofs, so the spring and autumn rains remained in the shingles to cause dampness and decay, instead of drying out quickly. but her own house seemed cool by comparison with some which she entered in the village and in the farming districts: houses such as most new settlers in the west have put up with their own hands and as quickly as possible; houses innocent of lath and plaster, and with only inch-thick wooden walls, upon which the sun beat so fiercely that by midday the inner surface of the wall almost blistered the hand that touched it. not to have been obliged to enter such houses would have spared grace much discomfort, but it was the hospitable custom of the country to hail passers-by, in the season of open doors and windows, and grace, besides being bound by the penalties peculiar to general favorites everywhere, was alive to the fear of being thought "stuck up" by any one. quickly she uprooted many delicate, graceful vines which she had planted to train against the sides of her own house, and replaced them with seeds of more rampant varieties. for days she made a single room of the house fairly endurable by keeping in it a large block of ice, brought from the ice-house by philip in mid-morning; but the season's stock of the ice-house had not been estimated with a view to such drafts, so for the sake of the "truck" in cold storage she felt obliged to discontinue the practice. wet linen sheets hung near the windows and open doors afforded some relief; but when other sufferers heard of them and learned their cost, and ejaculated "goodness me!" or something of similar meaning, grace was compelled to feel aristocratic and uncomfortable. she expressed to caleb and to doctor taggess her pity for sufferers by the heat, and asked whether nothing could be done in alleviation. "my dear woman, they don't suffer as much as you imagine," the doctor replied. "in the first place, they are accustomed to the climate, as you are not; most of them were born in it. another cooling fact is that neither men nor women wear as much clothing in hot weather as you eastern people. they, or most of them, are always hard at work, and therefore always perspiring, which is nature's method of keeping people fairly comfortable in hot weather. i don't doubt that i suffer far more as i drive about the county, doing no harder work than holding the reins, than any farmer whom i see ploughing in the fields." "i'm very glad to hear it, for their sakes, though not for your own. but how about the sick, and the poor little babies?" "ah, this is a sad country for sick folks, and for weaklings of any kind. stifle in winter--roast in summer; that is about the usual way. imagine, if you can, how an honest physician feels when he's called to cases of sickness in some houses that you've seen." "caleb," grace said, "was it as hot in the south, during the war, as it is out here?" "no," said caleb, promptly, "though the eastern men complained a great deal." "what did the soldiers do when they became sick in hot weather?" "they died, generally, unless they was shipped up north, or to some of the big camps of hospitals, where they could get special attention." "but until then were there no ways of shielding them from the heat of the sun?" "oh, yes. if the camp hospital was a tent, it had a fly--an extra thickness of canvas, stretched across it to shade the roof an' sides. then, if any woods was near by, and usually there was,--there's more woodland in old virginia than in this new state,--some forked sticks an' poles an' leafy tree-boughs would be fetched in, an' fixed so that the ground for eight or ten feet around would be shady." "do you remember just how it was done?" "do i? well, i reckon i was on details at that sort o' work about as often as anybody." "won't you do me a great favor? hire a man and wagon to-morrow--or to-day, if there's time--and go to some of our woodland near town, and get some of the material, and put up such a shade on the south and west sides of our house; that is, if you don't object." "object? 'twould be great fun; make me feel like a boy again, i reckon. but i ought to remind you that the thing won't look a bit pretty, two or three days later, when the leaves begin to fade. dead leaves an' a white house don't 'compose,' as i heard you say one day to a woman about two calicoes that was contrary to each other. besides, 'tain't necessary, for double-width sheetin', or two widths of it side by side, an' right out of the store here, would make a better awnin', to say nothin' o' the looks, an' you can afford it easy enough." "perhaps, but there are other people who can't, and i want to show off a tree-bough awning to some who need contrivances like it." "i--see," said caleb, departing abruptly, while doctor taggess exclaimed:-- "and here i've been practising in some of those bake-ovens of houses for thirty years, and never thought of that very simple means of relief! good day, mrs. somerton; i'll go home and tell my wife what i've heard, then i think i'll read some of the penitential psalms and some choice bits of proverbs on the mental peculiarities of fools." the arbor was completed by dark, and on the next day, and for a fortnight afterward, almost every woman who entered the store was invited to step into the garden and see how well, and yet cheaply, the house was shaded from the sun. all were delighted, though some warned the owner that the shade would kill her vines, whereupon doctor taggess, who spent parts of several hours in studying the structure, suggested that if the probable copyists were to set their posts and frameworks securely, they might serve as support for quick-growing hardy vines that might be "set" in the spring of the following year, and clamber all over the skeleton roof before the hottest days came. thereupon grace volunteered to write a lot of nursery men to learn what vines, annual or perennial, grew most rapidly and cost least, and to leave the replies in the store for general inspection. "doctor," grace asked during one of the physician's visits of inspection, "where did the settlers of this country come from, that they never think of certain of their own necessities? don't scold me, please; i'm not going to abuse your darling west; besides, 'tis my west as well as yours, for every interest i have is here. but eastern farmers and villagers plant shade trees and vines near their houses, unless they can afford to build piazzas,--and perhaps in addition to piazzas. they shade their village streets, too, and many of their highways. aren't such things the custom in other parts of the united states?" "they certainly are in my native state, which is pennsylvania," the doctor replied, "and some of the handsomest villages and farm-houses i've seen are in ohio and kentucky. but i imagine the work was done by the second or third or fourth generation; i don't believe the original settlers could find the time and strength for such effort. as to our people, they came from a dozen or more states--east, west, and middle, with a few from the south. i honestly believe they're quite as good as the average of settlers of any state, but i shouldn't wonder if you've failed to comprehend at short acquaintance the settler or the farmer class in general. in a new country one usually finds only people who've been elbowed out of older ones, either by misfortune or bad management, or through families having become too large to get a living out of their old homesteads, and with no land near by that was within reach of their pockets. there are as many causes in farming as in any other business for men trying to make a start somewhere else, but a starter in the farming line is always very poor. almost any family you might name in this county brought itself and all its goods and implements in a single two-horse wagon. your things, caleb told me, filled the greater part of a railway car. quite a difference, eh?" "yet most of the things were ours, when we thought ourselves very poor." "just so. so you can't imagine the poverty of these people. they lived in their wagons until they had some sort of roof over their heads; a man who could spend a hundred dollars for lumber and nails and window-sash passed for one of the well-to-do class. some of them had no money whatever; their nearest neighbors would help them put up a log house, but afterward they had to work pretty hard to keep the wolf from the door until they could grow something to eat and to sell. they had hard times, of so many varieties, that now when they are sure of three meals a day, some cows, pigs, and chickens, credit at a store, and a crop in the ground, they think themselves well off, no matter how many discomforts they may have to endure." "but, doctor, they're human; they have hearts and feelings." "yes, but they have more endurance than anything else. it has become second nature to them; so some of them would long endure a pain or discomfort rather than relieve it. doubt it, if you like, but i am speaking from a great mass of experience. i've heard much of the endurance of the north american indian, but the indian is a baby to these farmer-settlers. endurance is in their every muscle, bone, and nerve, and they pass it down to their children. eastern babies would scream unceasingly at maladies that some of our youngsters bear without a whimper. many of the presidents of the united states were born of just such stock; of course they were examples of the survival of the fittest, for any who are weak in such a country must go to the wall in a hurry, if they chance to escape the grave--and the graveyards are appallingly full." "and 'tis the women and children that fill them!" grace said. "yes," assented the doctor. "if i could have my way, no women and children would be allowed in a new section until the men had made decent, comfortable homes, with crops ready for harvest, all of which shows what an impracticable old fool a man of experience may become." "but a little work, by the men of some of these places, would make the women and children so much more comfortable!" "yes, but the women and children don't think to ask it, and the men don't notice the deficiency." "but why shouldn't they? many men elsewhere are perpetually contriving to make their families more comfortable." "yes, but seldom unless the necessity of doing so is forced to their attention in some way. besides, to do so, they must have the contriving, inventive faculty, which is one of the scarcest in human nature!" "oh, doctor! i've often heard that we americans are the most inventive people in the world." "so we are, according to the patent office reports, though the patents don't average one to a hundred people, and not more than one in ten of them is worth developing. i am right in saying that invention--except, perhaps, of lies--is among the rarest of human qualities. it requires quick perception and a knack at construction, as well as no end of adaptiveness and energy, all of which are themselves rare qualities. countless generations ached seven or eight hours of every twenty-four, until a few years ago, when some one invented springy bottoms for beds. countless generations of men had to cut four times as much wood as now, and innumerable women smoked their eyes out, cooking over open fires, before any one thought of making stoves of stone or of iron plates. almost every labor-saving contrivance you've seen might have been perfected before it was, if the inventive faculty hadn't been so rare. why, half of the newest contrivances of the day are so simple and obvious, that smart men, when they see them, want to shoot themselves for not having themselves invented them." "so, to come back to what we were talking of--the prospect of country women and children being made more comfortable is extremely dismal." "not necessarily; country people have their special virtues, though many of them have about as little inventive capacity as so many cows. still, they're great as copyists. for instance, my wife told me that every girl in the county wanted a dress exactly like one you made of two bits of dead-stock calico. they're already copying, i'm glad to say, your brushwood shade for the sides of the house. so, if you'll go right on inventing--" "but i didn't invent the brushwood shade; you yourself heard caleb tell me of it." "oh, yes, after you'd dragged it out of his memory, where it had been doing nothing for almost a quarter of a century." "i'm sure i didn't design the combination of calicoes; the idea was far older than the calicoes themselves." "perhaps, but you adapted it, as you did caleb's army hospital shade. don't ever forget that most so-called inventors, including the very greatest, are principally adapters. 'tis plain to see that you have the faculty, so don't waste any time in pitying those who haven't; just go on, perceiving and inventing--or adapting, if you prefer to call it so. try it on everything, from clothes and cookery to religion, and you may depend on most of the people hereabouts to copy you to the full measure of their ability. there! i don't think you'll want to hear the sound of my voice again in a month. caleb isn't the only man who finds it hard to get off of a hobby." xiv--fun with a camera for some days after grace's camera arrived there were many customers and commercial travellers who had to wait for hours to see the one person with whom they preferred to transact business in the store, for a camera is procrastination's most formidable rival in the character of a thief of time. grace made "snap-shots" at almost everything, and john henry bustpodder, the most enterprising of philip's competitors, took great satisfaction in disseminating the statement that he reckoned the new store-keeper's wife was running to seed, for she'd been seen chasing a whirlwind and trying to shoot it with a black box. but the somerton customers regarded the general subject from a different standpoint, for grace surprised some of them with pictures taken, without their knowledge, of themselves in their wagons, or in front of their houses, or on the way to church. they were not of high quality; but as the best the natives had previously seen were some dreadful tintypes perpetrated annually by a man who frequented county fairs, they were doubly satisfactory, for she would not accept pay for them. she surprised herself, also, sometimes beyond expression, by some of her failures, which were quite as dreadful as anything she had dreamed after almost stepping on snakes--people without heads, or with hands larger than their bodies, or with other faces superimposed upon their own. she also made the full quantity and variety of other blunders peculiar to amateurs, and she stained her finger-tips so deeply that philip pretended to suspect her of the cigarette habit; but she persisted until she succeeded in getting some pictures which she was not ashamed to send to her aunt and to some of her acquaintances in the city. caleb, who endeavored to master everything mechanical and technical that came within his view, took so great interest in the camera, even begging permission to see the developing process, that philip one day said to him:-- "caleb, if your interest in that plaything continues, i shan't be surprised if some day i hear you advance the theory that even photography is a means of grace," and caleb cheerily replied:-- "like enough, for anythin's a means o' grace, if you know how to use it right." "even snakes?" grace asked, with a smile that was checked by a shudder. "of course. the principal use o' snakes, so far as i can see, is to scare lots o' people almost to death, once in a while, an' a good scare is the only way o' makin' some people see the error o' their ways." "h'm!" said philip. "that's rather rough on my wife, eh?" "oh, no," said caleb. "some folks--mentionin' no names, an' hopin' no offence'll be took, as i once read somewhere--some folks are so all-fired nice, an' good, an' lucky, an' pretty much everythin' else that's right, that i do believe they need to be scared 'most to death once in a while, just to remind 'em how much they've got to be thankful for, an' how sweet it is to live." grace blushed, and said:-- "thank you, caleb; but if you're right, i'm afraid i'm doomed to see snakes frequently for the remainder of my natural life." "speakin' o' snakes as a means o' grace," said caleb, "p'r'aps 'twould int'rest you to know that some awful drunkards in this county was converted by snakes. yes'm; snakes in their boots scared them drunkards into the kingdom." "in--their--boots?" murmured grace, with a wild stare. "how utterly dreadful! i didn't suppose that the crawling things--" "your education in idioms hasn't been completed, my dear," said philip. "'snakes in their boots' is westernese for delirium tremens." "oh, caleb! how could you? but do tell me how photography is to be a means of grace." "i'll do it--as soon as i can find out. i'm askin' the question myself, just now, an' i reckon i'll find the answer before i stop tryin'. there don't seem to be anythin' about your camera that'll spile, an' i've read that book o' instructions through an' through, till i've got it 'most by heart. would you mind lettin' me try to make a pictur' or two some day?" "not in the least. you're welcome to the camera and outfit at almost any time." meanwhile grace continued to "have lots of fun" with the camera. she resolved to have a portrait collection of all the babies in the town; and as she promised prints to the mothers of the subjects, she had no difficulty in obtaining "sittings." to the great delight of the mothers, the pictures were usually far prettier than the babies, for grace smiled and gesticulated and chirruped at the infants until she cajoled some expression into little faces usually blank. incidentally she got some mother pictures that impressed her deeply and made her serious and thoughtful for hours at a time. her greatest success, however, according to the verdict of the people, was a print with which she dashed into the store one day, exclaiming to her husband and caleb:-- "do look at this! i exposed the plate one sunday morning, weeks ago, and then mislaid the holder, so that i didn't find it until to-day." it was a picture of the front of the church, taken a few moments before service began--the moments, dear to country congregations, in which the people, too decorous to whisper in church, yet longing to chat with acquaintances whom they had not met in days or weeks, gathered in little groups outside the building. the light had been exactly right; also the distance and the focus, and the people so well distributed that the picture was almost as effective as if its material had been arranged and "composed" by an artist. "je--ru--salem!" exclaimed caleb. "why, the people ain't much bigger than tacks, an' yet i can pick out ev'ry one of 'em by name. well, well!" he took the print to the door and studied it more closely. when he returned with it, he continued:-- "that's a great pictur'. it ought to have a name." "h'm!" said philip, winking at his wife, "how would this do: 'not exactly a means of grace, but within fifteen minutes of it'--eh?" "it's a mighty sight nigher than that," said caleb, solemnly, "besides bein' the best 'throw-in' that's come to light yet. give copies of that away to customers that don't ever go to church, an' they'll begin to go, hopin' they'll stand a chance o' bein' took in the next; an' if they get under the droppin's of the sanctuary, why, brother grateway an' the rest of us'll try to do the rest. grateway needs some encouragement o' that kind, for he's sort o' down in the mouth about nothin' comin' of his efforts with certain folks in this town. he's dropped warnin's and exhortations on 'em, in season an' out o' season, for quite a spell, but he was tellin' me only yesterday that it seemed like the seed in the parable, that was sowed on stony ground. an' say--je--ru--salem!--when did you say you took that?" "two or three weeks ago," grace replied. "an' you didn't develop it till to-day?" "not until to-day." "an' the pictur' has been on the plate all that time?" "in one way, yes. that is, the plate had been exposed at the subjects, and they had been impressed upon it by the light, although it still looked plain and blank, until the developing fluid was poured upon it." "how long would it stay so, an' yet be fit to be developed?" "oh, years, i suppose. travellers in africa and elsewhere have carried such plates, and exposed them, and not developed them until they returned to civilization, perhaps a year or two later." "i want to know! got any other plate as old as the one this pictur' was made from?" "yes, one; it was in the other side of the same holder." "would you mind developin' it to-night, in your kitchen, before company? nobody that's fussy--only brother grateway." "you know i'll do anything to oblige you and him, caleb." "hooray! excuse me, please, while i go off an' make sure o' his comin'." "what do you suppose is on caleb's mind now?" grace asked, as caleb and the picture disappeared. "i give it up," philip replied, "though i shan't be surprised if 'tis something relative to a camera being a means of grace." "i can't imagine how." "perhaps not, but let's await--literally speaking--developments." "he'll be here," said caleb, a few moments later; he looked gleeful as he said it, and shuffled his feet in a manner so suggestive of dancing that grace pretended to be shocked, at which caleb reddened. during the remainder of the afternoon he looked as happy as if he had collected a long-deferred bill, or given the dreaded "malary" a new repulse. he hurried philip and grace home to supper, so that the kitchen might sooner be free for photographic purposes, and dusk had scarcely lost itself in darkness when he closed the store and appeared at the house with pastor grateway, who expressed himself exuberantly concerning the picture of his church and congregation; but caleb cut him short by saying:-- "ev'rythin' ready, mis' somerton? good! come along, brother grateway--you, too, philip." while the trays and chemicals were being arranged, caleb explained to the pastor that photographs were first taken on glass plates, chemically treated, and that the picture proper was made by light passing through a plate to the surface of sensitized paper. when the red lamp was lighted, caleb continued:-- "now, when mis' somerton lays a plate in that tray, you'll see it's as blank as a sheet o' paper, or as the faces o' some o' the ungodly that you've been preachin' at an' laborin' with, year in and year out. you can't see nothin' on it, no matter if you use a hundred-power magnifyin' glass. but the pictur' 's there all the same; it was took weeks ago; might ha' been months or years, but it's there, an' yet the thing goes on lookin' blank till the developer is poured on it--just like mis' somerton's doin' now. now keep your eye on it. it don't seem to mind, at first--goes on lookin' as blank as the faces o' case-hardened sinners at a revival meetin'. but bimeby--pretty soon--" "see those spots!" exclaimed the minister. "eh? why, to be sure. well, a photograph plate is a good deal like measles an' religion--it first breaks out in spots. but keep on lookin'--see it come!" "wonderful! wonderful!" exclaimed the minister. "seemed miraculous to me, first time i see it," said caleb. "i'd have been skeered if mis' somerton hadn't said 'twas all right, for no magic stories i ever read held a candle to it. but keep on lookin'. see one thing comin' after another, an' all of 'em comin' plainer an' stronger ev'ry minute? could you 'a' b'lieved it, if you hadn't seen it with your own eyes? an' even now you've seen it, don't it 'pear 'bout as mysterious as the ways o' providence? i've read all mis' somerton's book tells about it, an' a lot more in the cyclopeedy, but it ain't no less wonderful than it was." "absolutely marvellous!" replied the minister. "that's what it is. now, brother grateway, that plate was just like the people you was tellin' me 'bout yesterday, that you was clean discouraged over. you've been pilin' warnin's an' exhortations on 'em, an' they didn't seem to mind 'em worth a cent--'peared just as blank as they ever were. but the pictur' was there, an' there 'twas boun' to stay, as long as the plate lasted--locked up in them chemicals, to be sure, but there it was all the same, an' out it came when the developer was poured on an' soaked in. an' so, john grateway, all that you've ever put into them people is there, somewhere--heaven only knows where an' how, for human natur' 's a mighty sight queerer than a photograph plate, an' to bring out what's in it takes about as many kinds o' developer as there are people. mebbe you haven't got the right developer, but it's somewhere, waitin' for its time--mebbe it'll be a big scare, or a dyin' wife, or a mother's trouble. religious talk rolled off o' me for years, like water from a duck's back, till one day i fell between two saw-logs in the crick, an' thought 'twas all up with me--that was the developer i needed. so when you say your prayers to-night, don't forget to give thanks for havin' seen a photograph plate developed, an' after this you go right on takin' pictur's, so to speak, with all your might, an' when you find you can't finish them, hearten yourself up by rememberin' that there's somebody that knows millions of times as much about the developin' business as you do, an' gives his entire time an' attention to it." "photography is a means of grace, caleb," said philip, and grace joined in the confession. xv--cause and effect "ever have any trouble with your bath-tub arrangements?" caleb asked philip one day when both men were at leisure. "no," said philip, somewhat surprised at the question. "think the man that put 'em in did the work at a fair price?" "oh, yes. but what's on your mind, caleb? it can't be that you're going to start a plumber in business here? i don't know what cruder revenge a man could take on his worst enemies." "no," said caleb. "heapin' coals o' fire on a man's head, accordin' to scriptur', is my only way o' takin' revenge nowadays. it most generally does the other feller some good, besides takin' a lot o' the devil out o' yours truly. but about bathin'--well, i learned the good of it when i was a hospital nurse for a spell in the army, an' i've been pretty particular 'bout it ever since, though my bath-tub's only an army rubber blanket with four slats under the edges, to keep the water from gettin' away. i've talked cleanliness a good deal for years, an' told folks that there wa'n't no patent on my kind o' bath-tub; but it ain't over an' above handy, an' most folks in these parts have so much to do that they put off any sort o' work that they ain't kicked into doin'. so, the long an' short of it is that i'm goin' to back a bathin' establishment, for the use of the general public." "you'll have your labor for your pains, caleb." "don't be too sure o' that. besides, i'm dead certain that bathin's a means o' grace. doc taggess says so, too, an' he ought to know, from his knowledge o' one side o' human nature. he knows a powerful lot about the other side, too, for what taggess don't know about the human soul is more'n i ever expect to find out. taggess is a christian, if ever there was one." "right you are, but--have you thought over this project carefully?" "been thinkin' over it off an' on, ever since your contraption was put in. you see, it's this way. i own a little house that i lent money on from time to time, till the owner died an' i had to take it in--the mortgages got to be bigger than the house was worth. it's framed heavy enough for a barn, so the upstairs floor'll be strong enough to hold a mighty big tank o' water, an' the well is one o' the deep never-failin' kind. black sam, the barber, used to be body-servant to a man down south, an' knows how to give baths--i've had him take care o' me sometimes, when the malary stiffened my j'ints so i couldn't use my arms much. well, sam's to have the house, rent free, an' move his barber shop into it. he don't get more'n an hour or two o' work a day, so he'll have plenty o' time to 'tend to bath-house customers that don't know the ropes for themselves, an' we're to divide the receipts. i'm goin' to advertise it well. how's this?" and caleb took from under the counter a cardboard stencil which he had cut as follows:-- a bath for the price of a drink and a cigar, and it will make you feel better than both of them. "that's a good advertisement, caleb--a very good advertisement. but i thought five cents was the customary price of a drink or a cigar out here?" "so 'tis--ten cents for both; but i've ciphered that it'll pay, an' black sam's satisfied. you see, fuel's cheap; besides, in summer time the upstairs part of that house, right under the roof, is about as hot, 'pears to me, as the last home o' the wicked, so if the tank's filled overnight, the water'll be warm by mornin'." "you've a long head, caleb. still, i've my doubts about your getting customers. 'you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink'--you've heard the old saying?" "often, but some folks in this country would go through fire--an' even water--for the sake o' somethin, new. i've cal'lated to make a free bath a throw-in' to some o' our customers that i could name, but first i'm goin' to try it on some old chums. i'm goin' to have the grand openin' on decoration day, an' try it on all the members of our grand army post. the boys'll do anythin' for an old comrade, specially if he's post commander, as i be. there was all sorts in the army, an' sometimes it's seemed to me that the right ones didn't get killed, nor even die afterwards. there's three or four of 'em in this county that makes it a p'int o' gettin' howlin' drunk on decoration day, which kind o' musses up the spirit o' the day for the rest of us. they're to have the first baths; i'm goin' to 'gree with 'em that if a bath don't make 'em feel better than a drink, i'll supply the liquor afterwards; but if it does, why, then they're not to touch a drop all day. black sam reckons that by bein' spry he can curry 'em down, so to speak, at the rate of a man ev'ry ten minutes, an' there's only seventeen men in the post. i reckon that them that don't drink'll feel just as good after bein' cleaned up, as them that do drink, an' i'm goin' to get 'em to talk it up all day, so's to keep the rummies up to the mark. the tank lumber's all ready; so's the carpenter, an' i reckon i'll write that plumber to-day." philip told grace of caleb's new project, and grace was astonished and delighted, and then thoughtful and very silent for a few minutes, after which she said:-- "some of the new york baths have women's days, or women's hours. i wonder if black sam couldn't teach the business to his wife?"--a remark which philip repeated to caleb, and for days afterward caleb's hat was poised farther back on his head than usual, and more over one ear. "this enterprise of caleb's," grace said to her husband, "has set me wondering anew what caleb does with his money. he has no family; his expenses are very small, for he is his own housekeeper and pays no rent, and you pay him three hundred dollars a year." "that isn't all his income," philip replied, "for he gets once in three months a pension check of pleasing size. still, you would be astonished to know how little cash he draws on account, and how great a quantity of goods is charged to him from month to month. i've been curious enough about it, at times, to trace the items from the ledger back to the day-book, and i learned that his account for groceries, food-stuffs generally, and dry goods is far larger than our own. as for patent medicines, he seems to consume them by the gallon--perhaps with the hope of curing his malaria. i've sometimes been at the point of asking him what he does with all of it; if he weren't so transparently, undoubtedly honest, i should imagine that he was doing a snug little private business on his own account; for, as you know, he pays only original cost price for what he buys." "there is but one explanation," grace said after a moment or two of thought. "it is plain that he is engaged in charitable work, and is living up to the spirit of the injunction not to let his left hand know what his right hand is doing. and oh, phil, long as we've been here,--almost half a year,--we've never done any charitable work whatever." "haven't we, indeed! you are continually doing all sorts of kindnesses for all sorts of people, and as you and i are one, and as whatever you do is right in your husband's eyes, i think i may humbly claim to be your associate in charity." "but i've done no charities. everything i do seems to bring more business to the store. i've no such intention, but the fact remains. i never give away anything, for i never see an opportunity, but it seems that caleb does." "ah, well, question him yourself, and if your suspicions prove correct, don't let us be outdone in that kind of well-doing." "caleb," grace asked at her first opportunity, "aren't there any deserving objects of charity in claybanks?" "well," caleb replied, "that depends on what you mean by deservin', an' by charity--too. i s'pose none of us--except p'r'aps you--deserve anythin' in particular, an' as you seem to have ev'rythin' you want, there ain't any anyhow. but there's some that's needy, an' that'll get along better for a lift once in a while." "do tell me about some of them. i don't want any one to suffer if my husband and i can prevent it." "that sounds just like you, but i don't exactly see what you can do. fact is, you have to know the folks mighty well, or you're likely to do more harm'n good, for the best o' folks seem to be spiled when they get somethin' for nothin'. but there's some of our people that's had their ups an' downs,--principally downs,--an' a little help now an' then does 'em a mighty sight o' good. there's women that's lost their husbands, an' have to scratch gravel night an' day to feed their broods. watchin' the ways of some of 'em's made me almost b'lieve the old yarn about the bird that tears itself to pieces to feed its young." "oh, caleb!" "fact. there's no knowin' what you can see 'till you look for it good an' hard." "but food is so cheap in this country that i didn't suppose the poorest could suffer. corn-meal less than a cent a pound, flour two cents, meat only four or five--" "yes, but folks that don't have grist-mills, nor animals to kill, would put it the other way; they'd say that dollars an' cents are awfully dear. why, mis' somerton, when some folks, that i could name, comes into the store with their truck to trade for things, an' i see 'em lookin' at this thing, an' that, an' t'other, that shows what they're wantin,' and needin,' an' can't get,--oh, it brings crucifixion day right before my eyes--that's just what it does. i've seen lots o' sad things in my day--like most men, i s'pose. i've seen hundreds o' men shot to pieces, an' thousands dyin' by inches, but you never can guess what it was that broke me up most an' longest." "probably not; so, that being the case, do tell me." "well, one day i'd just weighed out a pound o' tea, with a lot of other stuff that mis' taggess was goin' to call for, an' a widder woman that had been tradin' two or three pound o' butter for some things, picked up the paper o' tea, an' looked at it, an' held it kind o' close to her face, an' sniffed at it. she was as plain-featured a woman as you can find hereabouts, which is sayin' a good deal, but as she smelled o' that tea her face changed, an' changed, an' changed, till it reminded me of a picture i once saw in somebody's house--'ecstacy' was the name of it; so i said:-- "'i reckon you're a judge o' good tea' (for mis' taggess won't have any but the best) 'an' that you kind o' like it, too?' "'like it?' says she, wavin' the paper o' tea across her face an' then puttin' it down sharp-like, 'i like it about as much as i like the comin' o' sunday,' which was comin' it pretty strong, for i didn't know any woman that was more religious, or that had better reason to want a day of rest. an' yet she was just the nervous, tired kind, to which a cup o' good tea is meat an' drink an' newspapers an' a hand-organ besides; so i says:-- "'better buy a little o' this, then, while we've got it. i'm a pretty good judge o' tea myself, an' we never had any to beat this.' "'buy it?' says she. 'what with?' "'well,' says i, knowin' her to be honest, 'if you've traded out all your truck, i'll charge it, an' you can settle for it when you bring in some more, or mebbe some cash.' "'buy tea!' says she, lookin' far-away-like. 'i hain't been well enough off to drink tea since my husband died, though there's been nights when i haven't been able to sleep for thinkin' of it.' "think o' that! an' there was me, that's had two cups or more ev'ry night for years, an' thought i couldn't live without it! i come mighty nigh to chokin' to death, but i done up another pound as quick as i could, an' some white sugar too, an' i shoved 'em over to her, an' says i:-- "'here's a sin-offerin' from a penitent soul, an' i don't know a better altar for it than your tea-kettle.' "she was kind of offish at first, but thinkin' of her goin' without tea made me kind o' leaky about the eyes, an' that broke her down, an' she told me, 'fore she knowed what she was doin', about the awful hard time she an' her young ones had had, though before that nobody'd ever knowed her to give a single grunt, for she was as independent as she was poor. after that i often gave her a lift, in one way or other. she kicked awful hard at first; but i reminded her that the bible said that part o' true religion was to visit the fatherless an' widders in their 'fliction, so she oughtn't to put stumblin'-blocks in the way of a man who was tryin' to live right; an' as i didn't have no time for makin' visits myself, it was only fair to let me send a substitute, in the shape of comfort for her an' the young ones, an' she 'greed, after a spell, to look at it in that light." "caleb, are there many more people of that kind in the town?" "no--no--not quite as bad off as she was, in some ways, and yet in other ways some of 'em are worse. i mean drunkards' families. how a drunkard's wife stays alive at all beats me; the almighty must 'a' put somethin' in women that we men don't know nothin' about. after lots o' tryin', i made up my mind the only way to help a drunkard's family is to reform the drunkard, so i laid low, an' picked my time, an' when the man had about a ton o' remorse on him, as all drunkards do have once in a while, i'd bargain with him that if he'd stop drinkin' i'd see his family didn't suffer while he was makin' a fresh start. i made out 'twas a big thing for me to do, for they knowed i was sickly and weak, an' if i saved my money, instead o' layin' it out on 'em, i could go off an' take a long rest, an' p'r'aps get to be somethin' more than skin an' bones an' malary. it most gen'rally fetched 'em. it's kept me poor, spite o' my havin' pretty good pay an' nobody o' my own to care for, but there was no one else to do it, except doc taggess an' his wife: they've done more good o' that kind than anybody'll know till judgment day." "there'll be some one else in future, caleb. tell me whom to begin with, and how, and i shall be extremely thankful to you." "just what i might 'a' knowed you would 'a' said, though seems to me you're already helpin' ev'rybody in your own way." "but i'm spending no money. as a great favor tell me who it is for whom you're doing most, and let me relieve you of it, if only that you may use your money in some other way." "that's mighty hearty o' you, but i reckon it wouldn't work. you see it's this way. you remember one-arm ojam, from middle crick township?" "that tall, dashing-looking southerner?" "exactly. well, you see he lost his arm fightin' for the south--lost it at gettysburg, where i got some bullets that threw my machinery out o' gear considerable, besides one that's stuck closer'n a brother ever since. well, he don't draw no pension,--'tain't necessary to state the reasons,--but i get a middlin' good one. he was grumblin' pretty hard one day 'bout how tough it was on a man to fight the battle o' life single-handed, an' says i to him, knowin' he drank pretty hard:-- "'it must be, when with t'other hand he loads up with stuff that cripples his head too.' "he 'lowed that that kind o' talk riled him, an' i said i was glad it did, an' we jawed along for a spell, like old soldiers can when they get goin', till all of a sudden he says:-- "'a man that gets a pension don't have to drink to keep him goin'.' "'well, ojam,' says i, 'if that's a fact, an' i don't say it ain't, you can stop drinkin' right now, if you want to.' "'what do you mean?' says he. "'just what i say,' says i. 'my pension's yours, from this on, so long's you don't drink.' "'i ain't goin' to be bought over to be a yank,' says he. "'i don't want you to be a yank,' says i. 'you're an american, an' that's the best thing that any old vet can be. i want to buy you over to be a clear-headed man. i've got nothin' to make by it, but it'll be the makin' o' you.' "well, he went off mad, an' he told his wife an' young ones, an' in a day or two he came back, an' says he:-- "'caleb, i ain't a plum fool; but if you're dead sot on bein' one, why, i'll take that pension o' yourn, the way you said.' "so i shelled out the last quarter's money at once, an' then began the hardest fight one-arm ojam ever got into. he 'lowed afterwards that 'twas tougher than gettysburg, an' lasted 'bout a hundred times as long. 'fore that, when he hankered for a drink, he'd shell a bushel o' corn by hand, an' bring it in to bustpodder's store, an' trade it for a quart, but now he had money enough to buy 'most a bar'l of the sort of stuff that he drank. there's a tough lot o' fellows up in his section,--'birds of a feather flock together,' you know,--an' they made fun o' him, an' nagged him most to death, till one day he owned up to me that he was in a new single-handed fight that was harder'n the old one. "'you idjit,' says i, 'when you got in a hot place in the war you didn't try to fight single-handed, did you? you got with a squad, or a comp'ny, or regiment, didn't you, so's to have all the help you could get, didn't you?' "''course i did,' says he. "'then,' says i, 'what's the matter with your j'inin' the sons o' temperance, an' j'inin' the church, too?' well, ma'am, that knocked him so cold that he turned ash-colored, an' his knees rattled; but says i, 'i've got my opinion of a man that charged with pickett at gettysburg an' afterwards plays coward anywhere else.' "that fetched him. he j'ined the sons, an' he j'ined the church, an' rememberin' that the best way to keep a recruit from desertin' is to put him in the front rank at once, an' keep him at it, some of us egged him on until he became a local preacher an' started a lodge o' sons o' temperance in his section. he's offered two or three times to give up the pension, for he's got sort o' forehanded, spite o' havin' only one hand to do it with, but as i knowed he was spendin' all of it, an' more too, on men that he's tryin' to straighten up an' pull out o' holes, i said, 'no.' for, you see, i'd been wonderin' for years what a man that had had his heart sot on doin' good in the world, as mine was before the war, should 'a' been shot most to pieces at gettysburg for, but now i'd found out; for if i hadn't got shot, i wouldn't 'a' got the pension that reformed one-arm ojam, an' is reformin' all the rest o' middle crick township. 'god moves in a mysterious way, his wonders to perform;' but i s'pose you've helped sing that in church?" xvi--decoration day[ ] seldom does any community have the good fortune to have two great events fall upon a single day, but on may , -, claybanks and vicinity palpitated from centre to circumference over the celebration of decoration day and the opening of the claybanks bath-house. the public buildings did not close; neither did the stores, for the entire community flocked to the town, and the stores were the only possible lounging-places. grace had learned, to her great regret, which was shared by caleb, that the local grand army post never paraded in uniform, for the reason that the members found it too hard to supply themselves with sufficient clothing, for every day and sunday use, to afford a suit to be worn only a single day of the year, and she had told caleb that it was a shame that the government did not supply its old soldiers with uniforms in which to celebrate their one great day, and caleb had replied that perhaps if it did, the southerner ojam, who had charged with pickett at gettysburg, and who always marched with the "boys" to decorate the graves, might feel ruled out, and then grace had unburdened her heart to philip, and given him so little peace about it that finally he became so interested in the grand army of the republic that he studied all the local members as intently as if he were looking for a long-lost brother. but when the sun of decoration day arose, the centre of interest was the bath-house. the veterans who had been selected for the opening ceremonies approached the place as tremblingly as a lot of penitents for public baptism; some of them were so appalled at the prospect that they approached the house by devious ways, even by sneaking through various back yards and climbing fences. caleb himself was somewhat mystified by a request from black sam that he would remain out of sight until the ordeal had ended; and as the store filled early with customers, and philip was obliged to be absent for an hour or two, caleb was compelled to comply with the request, after sending word to the non-drinking members to keep the others from the vicinity of bustpodder's store and all other places where liquor was sold. the caution did not seem to be necessary, however; for not a man emerged from the bath-house to answer the questions of the multitude that was consuming with curiosity, and from which arose from time to time sundry cheers and jeers that must have been exasperating in the extreme. suddenly philip appeared in the store, and said:-- "caleb, you're wanted at the bath-house. better go up there at once. no, nothing wrong; but go." business went on, and grace did her best to attend to a score of feminine customers at one and the same time; but suddenly the entire crowd hurried out of the store, for the sound of the g. a. r.'s fife and drum, playing "we'll rally round the flag," floated through the open doors and windows. "i suppose we, too, may as well look at the procession," said philip, moving toward the door. "oh, phil!" exclaimed grace, looking up the street, "they have guns, and they're in uniforms. how strange! caleb told me they hadn't any." "true, but caleb is a great man to bring new things to pass." "they're all in uniform but three," said grace, as the little procession approached the store. "the fifer and drummer and the man with the flag haven't any. what a--" "the fifer and drummer were not soldiers. the man with the flag is one-arm ojam, who was in pickett's great charge at gettysburg, and he's in full confederate gray." so he was, even to a gray hat, with the stars and bars on its front, and a long gray plume at its side, and the magnificent southern swagger with which he bore the colors was--after the flag itself--the grandest feature of the procession. the multitude on both sides of the street applauded wildly, but the old soldiers marched as steadily as if they were on duty, for the uniforms and muskets were recalling old times in their fulness. suddenly, as the procession reached the front of the store, post-commander caleb wright, sword in hand, shouted:-- "halt! front! right--dress! front! present--arms!" to the front came the muskets, caleb's sword-hilt was raised to his chin, ojam drooped the flag, and philip doffed his hat. "why did they do that, i wonder?" asked grace. "oh, some notion of caleb's, i suppose," philip replied. "shoulder--arms!" shouted caleb. "order--arms! three cheers for the uniforms!" eighteen slouch hats waved in the air, an eighteen-soldier-power roar arose, the fife shrieked three times, the drummer rolled three ruffles. then one-arm ojam, the flag rested against his armless shoulder, waved his gray hat picturesquely, and roared:-- "three cheers for the giver of the uniforms!" when a second round of cheering ended, a man in the ranks shouted "speech!" and the word was echoed by several others. then philip, while his wife's lips became shapeless in wide-mouthed wonder, removed his hat and said:-- "fellow-americans, the uniforms weren't a gift. they're merely a partial payment, on my own account, for what you did for mine and me when i was very young. this is one of the proudest days of my life; for though i took the measure of each of you by guess-work, no man's clothes seem a very bad fit." then he returned abruptly into the store, followed by his wife, who exclaimed:-- "you splendid, dreadful fellow! you were letting me believe that caleb did it!" "so he did, my dear. 'twas your telling me the story of caleb's pension that set me thinking hard about the old soldiers and what they did, and of how little consideration they get. besides, i'm always wishing to do something special to please caleb, and this was the first chance i'd seen in a long time. his fear of one-arm ojam being estranged if the post got into uniform troubled me for a day or two, but i seem to have taken ojam's measure--in both senses--quite well." suddenly grace began to laugh, and continued until she became almost helpless, philip meanwhile looking as if he wondered what he had said that could have been so amusing. "if your uncle jethro could have been here!" she said as soon as she could. "to be horrified at the manner in which a lot of his money has been spent? if i'm not mistaken, 'twill have been the cheapest advertising this establishment ever did, though i hadn't the slightest thought of business while i was planning it." "that isn't what i meant," grace said. "i was thinking of your uncle's disgust when he learned that one of your reasons for wishing to live in new york was that you might study art. your studies never went far beyond sketching the human figure, poor boy; but if he were here to-day, and you were to tell him that your art studies, such as they were, had enabled you to guess correctly the proportions of eighteen suits of men's clothes, imagine his astonishment--if you can." then the laughter was resumed, and philip assisted at it, until caleb entered the store and said:-- "we've been comparin' notes,--the boys an' me, an' we've agreed that it beat any surprises we had in the war; for there, we always knowed, the surprises was layin' in wait for us a good deal of the time. how you managed it beats me." "phil, didn't even caleb know what was going on?" "not until he left the store about half an hour ago." "oh, you splendid, smart--" "spare my blushes, dear girl. as to the things, caleb, i had them addressed to black sam, whom i let into the secret, and i had them wagoned at night from the railway to the bath-house, where he unpacked them and hid them in one of his rooms." "i want to know! but what put you up to thinkin' o' doin' the greatest thing that--" "'twas a story my wife told me, about the way you dispose of your pension. 'twas all of your own doing, after all, you see." caleb looked sheepish, said something about the "boys" becoming uneasy unless the march was resumed, and made haste to rejoin his command, but stopped halfway to the door, and said:-- "mebbe 'tain't any o' my business, but as i'm commander of the post, an' yet you've been managin' it most o' the mornin', an' i hadn't time to ask the why an' wherefore o' things,--how did you get ojam to carry our flag?" "oh, i dared him." "an' he, bein' a southerner, wouldn't take a dare?" "on the contrary, it needed no dare. he said he'd been longing for such a chance for many years; for you'd reminded him one day that he was an american, and that plain american was good enough for you. 'twas a case exactly like that of the uniforms, caleb; 'twas you that did it--not i." again caleb looked sheepish, and this time he succeeded in rejoining his command and marching it toward the cemetery, followed by the entire populace. "we may as well go, too," said philip, closing the store. "but not empty-handed," grace said, snatching a basket from a hook and hurrying into her garden, where she quickly cut everything that showed any color or bloom, saying as she did so:-- "perhaps they don't use flowers here, but 'twill do no harm to offer them." "i'll get out the horse and buggy; that basket will be very heavy," said philip. "not as heavy as the veterans' guns--and some widow's memories," grace replied; "so let us walk." together they hurried along the dusty road and joined the irregular procession of civilians that followed the veterans. the claybanks "god's acre" bore no resemblance to the park-like cemeteries which grace had seen near new york, nor did it display any trace of the neatness which marked the little enclosure in which rested the dead of grace's native village. a man with a scythe had been sent in on the previous day, to make the few soldiers' graves approachable; but weeds and brambles were still abundant near the fence, and grace shuddered when she saw that most of the graves were marked only by lettered boards instead of stones, and that tiny graves were numerous. evidently claybanks was a dangerous place for infants. soon she saw that the usefulness of flowers on decoration day was not unknown at claybanks, and, as the "ritual of the dead" had already been read and as the veterans were informally passing from grave to grave, she made her way to caleb, and said reproachfully:-- "why didn't you ask me for some flowers?" "i 'lowed that i would," caleb replied, looking at grace's basket, "but mis' taggess came to me, an' says she, 'don't you do it, or she'll cut everything in sight,' an' from the looks o' things i reckon that's just what you've done. it's a pity, too, for we hain't got many soldier-dead, an' their graves is pretty well covered." "in the paht of the saouth that i come from," ventured one-arm ojam, "ev'rybody's graves has flowers put on 'em on memorial day, an' the women an' children do most of it." "you grand army men won't feel hurt if the custom is started here, will you?" grace asked of caleb. "not us!" was the reply; so grace begged the women and children to assist her, and within a few moments every grave in the cemetery had a bit of bloom upon it, and the women had informally resolved that the custom should be followed thereafter on decoration day. then the grand army post was called to order, and marched back to the town, led by the fifer and drummer and followed by the people. "is that all?" grace asked, when the store had been reopened, and caleb entered, unclasped his sword-belt, and gazed affectionately at the sword. "all of what?" "all of the day's ceremonies." "in one way, yes, but we vets have a sort o' camp-fire; we get together in my room, after dark, an' swap yarns, an' sing songs, an' have somethin' to eat an' drink, an' manage to have a jolly good time." "i hope you'll leave the windows open while you sing." "we'll have to all the time, i reckon, the weather bein' as hot as 'tis, but i know the boys'll be pleased to hear that you asked it." "oh, wouldn't i like to be a mouse in the corner to-night!" grace said after she had laid away the very last of the supper dishes and dropped into a hammock-chair on the coolest side of the house. "a mouse in the corner, and hear the war-stories those veterans will tell! they looked so unlike themselves to-day." "possibly because of caleb's bath-house," philip suggested, "although i don't doubt that caleb would be gracious enough to hint that the new uniforms also had some transforming effect." "what do you suppose they will have to eat and drink in caleb's room? i wish i dared make something nice and send it in. let me see; we've a lot of the potted meats and fancy biscuits and other things that i ordered from the city a week or two ago, to abate the miseries of summer housekeeping. i could make half a dozen kinds of biscuit sandwiches in ten minutes, and i could give them iced tea with lemon and sugar, and oh--" "well?" "there's been so much excitement to-day that i entirely forgot the grand surprise i'd planned for some of the farmers' wives. i declare 'tis too bad! our ice-cream freezer came last week, you know, and this morning i made the first lot, and i was going to serve saucers of it to some of the women who came to the store--it seems that ice-cream is unknown in this country. but your surprise, of putting the grand army men into uniforms, put everything else out of my mind for the day. let's bring it from the ice-house, and send it over to caleb's room to the veterans!" "my dear girl, the cream will keep till to-morrow, so do try to possess your soul in peace, and leave those veterans to their own devices. old soldiers are reputed to be willing to eat and drink anything or nothing if they may have a feast of war-stories." "when do you suppose they'll begin to sing?" "not having been a soldier, i can't say. perhaps not at all, if caleb's plan of keeping the drinking men from liquor has succeeded." "phil, don't be so horrid. oh!--what is that?" it was the beginning of a song--not badly sung, either--"'tis a way we have in the army." some of the words were ridiculous, but there could be no criticism of the spirit of the singers. advancing cautiously, under cover of semi-darkness and the brushwood arbor, grace saw so many figures near the front of the house that she could not doubt that the grand army post was tendering her or her husband the compliment of a serenade, so she applauded heartily. another song, "there's music in the air," followed, and yet another, both in fair time and tune. "i'm going to find out whom those leading voices belong to," grace said. "light the lamps, won't you?" then she stepped from the arbor, and said:-- "thank you very much, gentlemen, but my husband and i are real selfish people, so we won't be satisfied until you come into the house and sing us all the army songs you know." two or three veterans started to run, but they were stopped by others. grace heard them protesting that they were not of the singers, so she hurried out and declared that she would forego the anticipated pleasure rather than break up their own party; so within a moment or two the entire post, with one-arm ojam, were in the parlor, where some stared about in amazement, while others looked as distressed as cats in a strange kitchen. but host and hostess pressed most of them into seats, and caleb stood guard at the door, having first whispered to grace:-- "the pianner'll hold 'em--but don't play 'marchin' through georgy,' please; we take pains not to worry one-arm ojam." grace whispered to philip, who left the room; then she seated herself at the piano and rattled off "dixie" with fine spirit. soon she stopped, looked about inquiringly, and asked:-- "can't any of you sing it? now!" again she attacked the piano. some one started the song, darkey-fashion, by singing one bar, the others joining vociferously in the second; this was repeated, and then all gave the chorus, and so the song went on so long as any one could recall words. this was followed, at a venture, by "maryland, my maryland," for which the union veterans had one set of words, and ojam another, although the general effect was good. the ice was now broken, and the men suggested one song after another, for most of which grace discovered that she knew the airs--for while the war created many new songs, it inspired little new music. the singing continued until the guests became hoarse, by which time philip entered with iced lemonade made with tea, and grace followed with sandwiches and biscuits and cake, which prompted some of the men to tell what they did not have to eat in the army. from this to war-stories was but a short step, and as every veteran, however stupid, has at least one war-story that is all his own, the host and hostess enjoyed a long entertainment of a kind entirely new to them. meanwhile grace was pressing refreshments on the men individually, but suddenly she departed. when she returned, in a few moments, she bore a tray covered with saucers of ice-cream, and the astonishment which the contents produced, as it reached the palates of the guests, made grace almost apoplectic in her endeavors to keep from laughing. "what is it?" whispered a veteran who had not yet been served to one who was ecstatically licking his spoon. "dog my cats if i know!" was the reply, as the man took another mouthful. "it tastes somethin' like puddin'--an' custard--an' cake--an' like the smell of ol' mis' madden's vanilla bean,--an'--" but just then the questioner was given an opportunity to taste for himself, after which he said:-- "it beats the smell o' my darter's hair-ile--beats it all holler." "i reckon," said caleb, who had inspected the freezer on its arrival, and had been wildly curious as to its product, "i reckon it's ice-cream." "what? that stuff that there's jokes about in the newspapers sometimes,--jokes about gals that's too thin-waisted to hug, but can eat barl's of it?" "yes; that's the stuff." "the dickens! well, ef i was a gal, i'd let out tucks all day long an' durn the expense, if my feller'd fill my bread-basket with stuff like that. must be frightful costly, though." "not more'n plain custard, mis' somerton says." "wh-a-a-a-a-at? say, caleb, i'm goin' to j'in the church, right straight off. no more takin' any risks o' hell for me, thank you, for it stands to reason that they can't make ice-cream down there." when the contents of the freezer were exhausted, philip, who never smoked, opened a box of fine cigars which he had ordered from the east, with a view to business with visiting lawyers in the approaching "court-week." then the joy of the veterans was complete; the windows were opened, for, as caleb said, no mosquito would venture into such a cloud, and it was not until midnight that any one thought to ask the time. "i'm afeared," said caleb, after all the other guests had departed, "that you'll have a mighty big job o' dish-washin' to-morrow, but--" "but 'twas richly worth it," grace said, and philip assented. "that's very kind o' you, but 'tain't what i was goin' to say, which was that i'll turn in and help, if you'll let me, an' another thing is, you've put an end to any chance of any of the boys takin' a drink of anythin' stronger than water to-night, an' you've made sure of some new customers, too." "oh, caleb!" grace said, "can't we do anything hearty for its own sake, without being rewarded for it?" "nary thing!" caleb replied. "that's business truth, an' gospel truth, too." footnote: [ ] in most states of the american union the th of may is a legal holiday called decoration day, the purpose being to honor, by various means, the memory of the soldiers who died in defence of the union in the great civil war of - . more than a quarter of a million survivors of the union army are members of a fraternal society called the grand army of the republic, which is divided into about seven thousand local branches called posts. the organization is military in form, each post having a body of officers with military titles and insignia. all posts carry the national colors in their parades, and are expected to be uniformed in close imitation of the service dress of the army of the united states. a few posts bear arms, and each member of the order wears a medal made by the national government from cannon captured from the enemy. the posts always parade on decoration day, and at cemeteries where soldiers of the union army have been interred they read their "ritual of the dead" and decorate the graves with flags and flowers. in recent years the order has decorated the graves of dead confederates also, and there have been many friendly interchanges of civilities and hospitalities between the grand army of the republic and the southern survivors' organization known as the united confederate veterans--an order which has about fifty thousand members. xvii--foreign invasion "well, caleb," said philip, on the day after decoration day, "how did the bath-house opening-day pan out?" "first-rate--a ," caleb replied, rubbing his hands, and then laughing to himself a long time, although in a manner which implied that the excitement to laughter was of a confidential nature. but this merely piqued curiosity, so philip said:-- "do you think it fair to keep all the fun to yourself, you selfish scamp? don't you know that things to laugh at are dismally scarce at this season of the year? as the boys say when another boy finds something, 'halves.'" "well," said caleb, "the fact is, some of the customers was scared to death, black sam says, for fear they'd catch cold after the bath. i'd expected as much of some of our g. a. r. boys,--mentionin' no names,--so i'd took down to the house a dozen sets o' thin underclothin' that i'd ordered on suspicion. i always wear it--i learned the trick from one of our hospital doctors in the army, an' it gives me so much comfort that i talked it up to other men, but 'twas a new idee 'round here, an' ev'rybody laughed at me. the baths, though, scared a lot o' the boys into tryin' it. all day long they were kind o' wonderin', out loud, whether it was the cleanin' up or the underclothes that made 'em feel so much better'n usual; so i says to 'em, 'what's the matter with both? no one thing's ev'rythin', unless mebbe it's religion, an' even that loses its holt if you squat down with it an' don't do nothin' else.' 'but,' says some of 'em, 'what's to be did when the underclothes gets dirty?' 'put on some clean ones,' says i, 'or wash the old ones overnight, 'fore you go to bed--that's what i done ev'ry night, when i was so poor that i couldn't afford a change.' well, some of 'em'll do it, 'cause they're too poor to buy, but you'd better telegraph for a stock o' them thin goods; for when they don't find thick shirts an' pants stickin' to 'em all day, while they're at work, they'll be so glad o' the change that they'll want to stock up. they'll find out, as i've always b'lieved, that underclothes, an' plenty of 'em, is a means o' grace." "more business for the store, as usual," said philip. "yes," said caleb, "but 'twon't be a patch to the run there'd be on ice-cream machines--if there was plenty of ice to be had. some o' the boys from the farmin' district stopped with me last night, thinkin' it was better to get some sleep 'fore sun-up than go out home an' wake their folks up halfway between midnight and daylight, to say nothin' o' scarin' all the dogs o' the county into barkin', and tirin' out hosses that's got a day's work before 'em. well, 'fore turnin' in, they said lots o' nice things--though no nicer than they ought--about the way they had been treated at your house, an' 'bout the way you both acted, as if you an' them had been cut from the same piece, but--" "don't make me conceited, caleb." "i won't; for, as i was goin' to say, they come back ev'ry time to the friz milk, as they called it, an' how they wished their wives knew how to make it, an' what a pity 'twas there wa'n't ice-houses all over the county. well--partly with an eye to business, knowin' that most any of 'em could stand the price of a freezer, an' the others could do it, too, if they'd save the price o' liquor they drink in a month or two--i says:-- "'well, why don't you make 'em? you could do it o' slabs you could split out o' logs from your own woodland, an' the crick freezes ev'ry winter, when you an' your hosses has got next to nothin' to do. besides havin' ice-cream from milk that you've all got more of than you know what to do with, you could kill a critter once in a while in the summer, an' keep the meat cool; you could have fresh meat off an' on, instead o' cookin' pork seven days o' the week in hot weather, when it sickens the women an' children to look at it.' they 'lowed that that was so, an' they jawed it over for a while, an'--well, three or four ice-houses are goin' up, between farms, next winter, an' we'll sell some freezers, an' some men'll let up on drinkin'; for the worst bum o' the lot 'lowed that he'd trade his thirsty any time, an' throw in a quart o' bustpodder's best to boot, for a good square fill o' friz milk." "so even ice-cream is a means of grace, caleb--eh?" said philip. "that's what it is, an' i notice, too, that you don't laugh under your mustache, like you used to do, when mention's made o' means o' grace." but what rose is without its thorn? in the course of a few days the word went about, among the very large class to whom everything is fuel for the flame of gossip, that a lot of the grand army men had been taken into the somerton house, and found it a palace, the things in which must have cost thousands of dollars, and that it was a shame and an outrage that money should have been made out of the poor, overworked country people to support two young stuck-ups from the city in more luxury than queen elizabeth ever dreamed of; for who ever read in history books of queen elizabeth having ice-cream? and didn't the history books say that she had only rushes on her floors, instead of even a rag carpet, to say nothing of picture carpets like the somertons'? when the rumor reached the store, philip ground his teeth, but grace laughed. "i believe you'd laugh, even if they called your husband a swindler," said philip. "indeed i would, at anything so supremely ridiculous," grace said. "wouldn't you, caleb?" "i reckon i would. anyhow, it sounds a mighty sight better than the noise philip made; besides, it's healthier for the teeth. it shows 'em off better, too." "now, mr. crosspatch, how do you feel?" "utterly crushed. but what are you going to do about it?" "i'm going to make those gossips ashamed of themselves." "how?" "by refurnishing the parlor for the summer. the dust is ruining our nice things, so the change will be an economy. i'll do it so cheaply that almost any farmer in the county can afford to copy it, to the great delight of his wife, as well as himself. let--me--see--" and grace dropped her head over a bit of paper and a pencil, and caleb looked at her admiringly, and winked profoundly at philip, and then hurried into the back room so that his impending substitute for an ecstatic dance should not disturb the planner of the coming parlor decorations. for some reason--perhaps excitement over the bath-house, or surprise at the uniforming of his grand army command, or the heat, or the debilitating effect of old wounds--philip pretended to believe it was the effect of grace's ice-cream upon a system not inured to such compounds--caleb suddenly became disabled by a severe malarial attack with several complications. he did not take to his bed, but his movements were mechanical, his manner apathetic, and his tongue almost silent. he did not complain; and when questioned, he insisted that he suffered no pain. philip and grace endeavored to tempt his appetite, for he ate scarcely anything, and they tried to rally him by various mental means, but without effect. he noted their solicitude, and its sincerity impressed him so deeply that he said one day:-- "the worst thing about this attack is that i can't get words to tell you how good you both are bein' to me. but i'm the same as a man that's been hit with a club." then philip and grace insisted that doctor taggess should do something for caleb, and the doctor said nothing would give him more pleasure; for anything that would restore caleb to health would probably be serviceable in other cases of the same kind, of which there were several on his hands. after listening to much well-meant but worthless suggestion, the doctor said:-- "there's a new treatment of which i've heard encouraging reports, but it is quite costly. it is called the sea treatment. it is said, on good authority, that a month at sea, anywhere in the temperate zone, will cure any chronic case of malaria, and that the greater the attack of sea-sickness, the more thorough will be the cure." "caleb shall try it, no matter what the cost," said philip. the doctor smiled, shook his head doubtfully, and said:-- "what if he won't? he is so bound up in you and your business, and his own many interests and duties, that he will make excuses innumerable." "quite likely, but i ought to be ingenious enough to devise some way of making it appear a matter of duty." "i hope you can, and that you'll begin at once, if only for my sake, professionally, so that i may study the results." then, for a day, philip became almost as silent as caleb, and grace assisted him. the next morning, he said:-- "caleb, i want to start a new enterprise that will revolutionize this part of the country and part of europe, too, if it succeeds, but it won't work unless you join me in it." "you know i'm yours to command," caleb replied, at the same time forcing a tiny gleam of interest. "that's kind of you, but this project of mine is so unusual that i almost fear to suggest it. you know that the farmers of this section plant far more corn than anything else." "yes, 'n always will, i reckon, no matter how small the price of what they can't put into pork. the idee o' corn-plantin' 's been with 'em so long that i reckon it's 'petrified in their brain structure,' as a scientific sharp i once read about, said about somethin' else." "quite so, and we can't hope to change it unless labor and horses should suddenly become cheaper and more plentiful. now i propose that we take advantage of this state of affairs by making some money and getting some glory, besides indirectly helping the farmers, by increasing the future demand for corn. you yourself once told me that if the people of europe could learn to eat corn-bread, 'twould be money in their own pockets, relieve corn-bins here of surplus stock, and perhaps lessen the quantity of the corn spoiled by being made into whiskey." "that's a fact," said caleb. "very well. corn never was cheaper here than it is now,--so i'm told,--nor were the mills ever so idle. i can buy the best of corn-meal, barrelled, and deliver it in london or liverpool, freight paid, at less than two dollars per barrel, and i can buy all i want of it on my note at six months. if you'll go into the enterprise with me, every barrel shall be labelled 'claybanks western corn-flour: trademark registered by philip somerton.'" "hooray for claybanks! hooray for the west!" shouted caleb, becoming more like his old self. "thank you. but as i've quoted to you about your bath-house project, 'you can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink.' meal has often been sent to the english market, and some dealers have even sent careful cooking and bread-making directions. the different methods of making good food from corn-meal must, i am satisfied, be shown, practically, before the eyes of possible consumers. so my plan is this: to send over, say, two hundred barrels to london; hire for a month a small shop in a district thickly inhabited by people who know the value of a penny saved, cook in various forms--hasty pudding, hoe-cake, dodgers, muffins, corn-bread, etc., at the rate of a barrel of meal a day, or as much as can be sold, or even given away as an advertisement of the 'claybanks western corn-flour'--meanwhile persuading grocers in the vicinity to keep the meal for sale to persons who are sensible enough to appreciate it. and finally, as you know how to make all sorts of good things of corn-meal, i'd like you to go over to england and manage the entire business." "wh-e-e-e-e-e-ew!" "that's somewhat non-committal, isn't it?" "well!" said caleb, "i reckon the malary's knocked plumb out o' me!" "i hope so; but if it isn't, it will be; for doctor taggess says that a month at sea is the newest treatment prescribed for malaria, and that is said to be a sure cure. the trip over won't take a month, but a week or ten days of the ocean ought to make a beginning, and show you how 'twill act, and if the enterprise makes a hit, i'll show my appreciation by standing the expense of a trip up the mediterranean and back by direct steamer to the united states. by the way, while you're up the mediterranean, you might join one of cook's tourist parties, and see the holy land. how does the entire plan strike you?" "how--does it--strike me?" drawled caleb. then he pulled himself together and continued: "why, it's struck me all of a heap. say, philip, you've got a mighty long head--do you know it? i ain't sayin' that i can't do the work middlin' well, though i have heard that it takes a pickaxe an' a corkscrew to get any new idee into the commoner kinds of the english skull. an' a trip through the holy land! but say--who'd look after my sunday-school class while i was away?" "oh, i will, if you can't find a better substitute. you've been doing your best to get me into church work--you know you have, you sly scamp. now's your chance." "to break you into that sort o' work," said caleb, slowly, "i'd be willin' to peddle ice in greenland, an' live on the proceeds. but there's my other class--though i s'pose i could farm that out for a spell. then there's a lot o' folks that's been lookin' to me for one thing an' another so long that--" "that perhaps 'twould do them good to be obliged to depend upon themselves for a few weeks." "phil dear, don't be heartless! caleb, couldn't you trust those people to a woman for a little while?" "oh, couldn't i! an' i thank you from the bottom of my heart besides. london! then i could see westminster abbey, an' the tower o' london, an' go to john wesley's birthplace, an'--" "yes," said philip, "and you could run over to paris, too." "no, sir!" exclaimed caleb. "when i want to see satan an' his kingdom, i won't have to travel three thousan' mile to do it. but--" "but me no more buts, caleb--unless you would rather not go." "rather not, indeed! if i was dyin' as hard of malary as i'm dyin' to see some things in england, i guess i'd turn up in kingdom-come in about three days, almanac-time. what i was 'buttin'' about was only this: are you plumb sure that i'm the right man for the job?" "quite sure; for you're entirely honest, industrious, and persistent; you're as corn-crazy as any other western man; you've taught my wife and me how to work a lot of unsuspected delicacies out of corn-meal; and, more important than all else, for this purpose, you've the special western faculty of taking a man's measure at once and treating him accordingly. if that won't work with the english,--and the worst of them can't be any stupider than certain people here,--nothing will. so the matter is settled, and you're to start at once--to-morrow, if possible; for first i want you to buy me a lot of goods in new york. my wife and i have determined to carry a larger stock and more variety, and--" "start to-morrow!" interrupted caleb, incredulously. "yes; the longer you wait, the longer 'twill take you to get away. besides, i want to keep the corn-meal enterprise a secret, and you're so honest that it'll leak from you if you don't get off at once." "but i can't get--" "yes, you can, no matter what it is. and while you are attending to business in new york you must sleep down by the seaside, so that the sea air shall begin its fight with the malaria as soon as possible. i shall engage a room for you by telegraph to-day; you can reach it by rail within an hour from any part of the city, and return in the morning as early as you like." "but, man alive, you haven't got the corn-meal yet." "i shall have a lot of it on the rail by a week from to-day; the rest can follow. you'll need a fortnight in new york, to do the buying and see the sights, for the town is somewhat larger than claybanks. besides, no self-respecting american should go abroad until he has seen niagara falls, independence hall, bunker hill monument, and the national capital. the falls are directly on your route east, washington is a short and cheap trip from new york, with philadelphia between the two cities, and you can take a steamer from boston. now pack your gripsack at once--there's a good fellow, and don't say a single good-by. i'm told they're dreadfully unlucky. after you've started, i'll explain to every one that you've gone east to buy some goods for me. at present i'll settle down to making you a route-book, with information about all sorts of things that you may wish, after you're off, that you'd asked about." caleb retired slowly to his room over the store; philip and grace took turns for an hour in watching the street for doctor taggess and in sending messengers in every direction for him, and when the doctor arrived, they unfolded to him, under injunctions of secrecy, the entire plan regarding caleb. the doctor listened with animated face and twinkling eyes, until the story ended; then he relieved himself of a long, hearty laugh, and said:-- "what would your uncle jethro say to such an outlay of money?" "if he's where i hope he is," philip replied, "he knows that caleb richly deserves it in addition to his salary, for his many years of service. besides, we've earned the money, in excess of any previous half-year of trade; so even if the commercial project fails i shall be out only three or four hundred dollars." "and without doubt," said the doctor, "'twill be the remaking of caleb." "i hope so," philip replied, "for he has been remaking me." xviii--the tabby party all of grace's spare hours for a fortnight after caleb's departure were spent in recalling and applying the makeshift furniture devices of her native village and those described in back numbers of "ladies' own" papers and magazines, as well as all the upholstery and other decorative methods of her sister-saleswomen in the days when she and they had far more taste than money. chairs and lounges were extemporized from old boxes and barrels, cushioned with straw or corn-husks, and covered with chintz. a roll of cheap matting, ordered from the city, drove the rugs from the sitting room and parlor, and the cheapest of hangings replaced the lace curtains at the windows. all of the framed pictures were sent upstairs, and upon the walls were affixed, with furniture tacks, many borderless pictures, plain and colored, from the collection which philip and grace had made, in past years, from weekly papers and christmas "supplements." the vases, too, disappeared, though substitutes for them were found. dainty tables, brackets, etc., were replaced by some made from fragments of boxes, the completed structures being stained to imitate more costly woods, and instead of the couple's darling bric-à-brac appeared oddities peculiar to the country--some birds and small animals stuffed by black sam, birds'-nests, dried flowers, a mass of heads of wheat, oats, rye, and sorghum arranged as a great bouquet, some turkey-tail fans, and so many other things that had attracted grace in her drives and walks that there seemed no room on mantel, tables, and walls for all of them. "there!" grace exclaimed, as she ushered her husband into the parlor at the end of a day expended on finishing touches. "what do you think of it?" "bless me!" philip exclaimed. "absolutely harmonious in color, besides being far fuller than it was before. 'tis quite as pretty, too, in general effect. don't imagine for a moment, however, that your selected list of old cats will appreciate it." "i _shall_ imagine it, and i don't believe i shall be disappointed. all human nature is susceptible to general effect. besides, mrs. taggess is to be here, and all of them are fond of her, and she will say many things that i can't. i shall boast only when they tell me that they suppose my husband did most of the work--if any of them are clever enough to detect the difference between what is here and what the g. a. r. men and other guests have reported." the invitations were given informally, though long in advance, to a midday dinner on the first day of "court-week,"--a day set apart by common consent in hundreds of counties, for a general flocking to town. the guests selected were--according to caleb, who was consulted when the plan was first formed--the ten most virulent feminine gossips in the county. black sam's wife had been employed to assist for the day at cooking and serving, and among the dishes were many which would be entirely new to the guests. at one end of the table sat grace, "dressed," as one of the guests said afterwards, "as all-fired as a gal that was expectin' her feller, an' was boun' to make him pop the question right straight off." at the other end of the table was mrs. taggess, plainly attired, except for her habitual smile, and at either side sat five as differing shapes--except for sharp features and inquiring eyes--as could be found anywhere. one wore black silk with much affectation of superiority to the general herd, but the others seemed to have prepared for a wild competition in colors of raiment and ribbons, and one had succeeded in borrowing for the day the original and many-colored silk of mrs. hawk howlaway, described in an early chapter of this narrative. the guests did full justice to the repast. one by one they became mystified by the number of courses, for they had expected pie or pudding to follow the first dish. some began to be apprehensive of the future, but with the fine determination characteristic of "settlers," good and bad alike, they continued to ply knife and fork and spoon. for some time the efforts of the hostess and mrs. taggess to encourage conversation were unrewarded, though some of the guests exchanged questions and comments in guarded tones. all acted with the apparent unconcern of the north american indian; but curiosity, a tricky quality at best, suddenly compelled one gaunt woman to exclaim, as she contemplated the dish before her and raised it to her prominent nose:-- "what on airth is that stuff, i'd like to know?" "that is lobster salad," grace replied. "oh! i couldn't somehow make out what kind of an animile the meat come off of." "nuther could i," said her vis-à-vis, with a full mouth, "but i'm goin' to worry my ole man to raise some of 'em on the farm, for it's powerful good, an' no mistake." a buzz of assent went round the table; the ice was broken, so another guest said:-- "mis' somerton, i've been dyin' to know what that there soup was made of that we begun on. i never tasted anythin' so good in all my born days." "indeed? i'm very glad you liked it. 'twas made of crawfish." a score of knives and forks clattered upon plates, and ten women assumed attitudes of amazement and consternation. finally one of them succeeded in gasping:-- "them little things that bores holes 'longside the crick? the things that boys makes fish-bait of?" "the same, though only millionnaires' sons could afford to use them for bait in the east. crawfish meat in new york costs as much as--oh, a single pound of it costs as much as a big sugar-cured ham. i never dreamed of buying it--i never dared hope that i might taste it--until i came out here." the appearance of a new course checked conversation on the subject, but one of the guests eyed suspiciously a tiny french chop, the tip of its bone covered with paper, and said to the woman at her right:-- "don't appear to know what we're bein' fed with here. wonder what this is? it's little enough to be a side bone o' cat. must be all right, though; mis' taggess is eatin' hern." a form of blanc-mange was another mystery. said one woman to another:-- "it must be the ice-cream the soldiers told about, for it's powerful cold, besides bein' powerful good." "that's so," was the reply; "but 'pears to me i didn't hear the men say nothin' about there bein' gravy poured on theirn." some of the guests were becoming full to their extreme capacity,--a condition which stimulates geniality in some natures, ugliness in others. they had come to criticise--to learn of their hostess's extravagance. they had remained in the parlor only long enough to be entirely overcome by its magnificence and to exchange whispered remarks about the shameful waste of money wrung from the hard-working farmers. the dinner had been good beyond their wildest expectations; not the best fourth of july picnic refreshments, or even the memorable dinner given by squire burress, the richest farmer in the county, when his daughter was married, compared with it. what was so good must also have been very expensive. criticism must begin with something, and the blanc-mange seemed a proper subject to one woman, who was reputed to be very religious. so she groaned:-- "this--whatever it is--is so awful good that it must ha' been sinful costly--actually sinful." "yes, indeed," sighed another. "one might say, a wicked waste o' money." "blanc-mange?--costly?" grace said, curbing an indignant impulse; "why, 'tis nothing but corn-starch, milk, sugar, and a little flavoring. i wonder what dessert dish could be cheaper!" "you don't say!" exclaimed a woman less malevolent or more practical than the others. "now, i just ain't a-goin' to give you no peace till you give me the receipt for it." "i'll give it, with pleasure; or better still, you shall have a package of the corn-starch,--'tis worth only a few cents,--with full directions on the label. i might possibly forget some part of them, you know." "me too," said several women as one, and criticism was temporarily abated. before a new excuse for reviving it could be found, the ice-cream--the real article, and without gravy, of course--made its appearance. it was consumed in silence, in as much haste as possible with anything so cold, and also with evident enjoyment. then the opponent of sinful extravagance remarked:-- "it's awful good--too good! it 'pears wicked to enjoy any earthly thing so much. besides, you needn't tell me that _it_ ain't awful costly, 'cause i shan't believe it." "if my word is of so doubtful quality," said grace, with rising color, "perhaps mrs. taggess, with whom you're better acquainted, will inform you." "'tis nothing but milk, cream, and sugar," said mrs. taggess, who had borrowed grace's freezer and experimented with it, "and most of you know very well that you've so much milk that you feed some of it to your pigs. the cream in what all of you have eaten would make, perhaps, a single pound of butter, which you would be glad to sell for fifteen cents. the sugar cost not more than five or six cents, and the flavoring, to any one with raspberries in their own garden, would have cost nothing." the guests gasped in chorus, but the tormentor quickly said:-- "but the ice! us poor farmin' folks can't afford ice; it's only them that makes their livin' out of us--" "excuse me," said mrs. taggess, "but many of the farmers, your husband among them, have been telling doctor taggess recently that they were going to put up ice-houses next winter, and that they were foolish or lazy for not having already done so before. i'm sure that all of you who have enjoyed the cream so greatly will keep your husbands in mind of it, especially as ice-cream, made at home, is as cheap as the poorest food that any farmer's family eats." the coming of the coffee caused conversation to abate once more, for in each cup floated a puff of whipped cream--a spectacle unfamiliar to any of the gossips, some of whom hastily spooned and swallowed it, in the supposition that it was ice-cream, put in to cool the coffee somewhat. those who followed the motions of their hostess and mrs. taggess stirred the whipped cream into the coffee, and enjoyed the result, but again the voice of the tormentor arose:-- "we buy all our coffee at your store, but we don't never have none that tastes like this here." "indeed?" grace said, with an air of solicitude. "i wonder why, for there is but one kind in the store, and this was made from it. perhaps we prepare it in different ways." "i bile mine a plumb half-hour," said the tormentor, "so's to git ev'ry mite o' stren'th out o' it." "oh! i never boil mine." she never boiled coffee! would the wonders of this house and its housekeeper never cease? "for pity sakes, how does any one make coffee without boilin', _i'd_ like to know?" said a little woman with a thin, aquiline nose and a piercing voice. "i used to do it," said grace, "by putting finely ground coffee in a strainer, and letting boiling water trickle through it, but the strainer melted off one day, through my carelessness, so now i put the coffee in a cotton bag, tie it, throw it into the pot, pour on boiling water, set it on the cooler part of the stove, and let it stand without boiling for five minutes. then i take out the bag and its contents, to keep the coffee from getting a woody taste. my husband, who often makes the coffee in the morning, throws the ground coffee into cold water, lets it stand on the stove until it comes to a boil, and removes it at once. i'm not yet sure which way is the best." "nor i," said mrs. taggess, "although i've tasted it here made in both ways, and seen it made, too." the guests were so astonished that each took a second cup--not that they really wanted it, as one explained to two others, but to see whether it really was as good as it had seemed at first. then grace arose, and led the way to the parlor. some of the guests were loath to follow, among them the tormentor, who said:-- "i s'pose if i'd talked about these crockery dishes, she'd have faced me down, an' tried to make me believe they didn't cost as much as mine." "oh, no, she wouldn't," said mrs. taggess, who overheard the remark; "but i think 'twas very kind of her to set out her very best china, don't you? most people do that only for their dearest friends--never for people who forget the manners due to the woman of the house, whoever she may be." "i don't see what you mean by that, mis' taggess, i'm sure. i only--" "ah, well, try not to 'only' in the parlor, for mrs. somerton is trying very hard to make us feel entirely at home." "well, _i_ think she's just tryin' to show off, 'cause she's come into old jethro's money." "show off with what? do tell me." "why, with her fine furniture an' fixin's. if that best room o' hern was mine, i'd be 'feared to use it, an' i'd expect the house to be struck by lightnin' to punish me for my wicked pride." "i'm a-dyin' to ask her what some o' them things cost," said another, "but i don't quite dass to." "then you may stop dying at once, for i'll ask her for you, although i already know, within a few cents, the price of everything in the room. come along, now. ahem! mrs. somerton, there's much curiosity among the ladies as to the cost of furnishing your beautiful parlor. won't you tell us?" "very gladly," grace said, "for i'm very proud of it." "didn't i tell you?" whispered the tormentor. "everything in the parlor, except the piano, which is the ugliest thing in it," grace continued, "cost less than twenty dollars." "sho!" exclaimed one woman, incredulously. "why, that's no more money than squire burress paid for the sofy that his gals is courted on, for mis' burress told me the price o' that sofy herself, an' showed me the bill to prove it." "i've no bills to show," grace said, with a laugh, "for the largest articles are made of scraps, such as my husband gives away to any one who asks for them. see here--" as she spoke she turned a chair upside down to show that its basis was a barrel. then she raised the drapery of a divan to show the unpainted boxes beneath. "the matting on the floor is three times as cheap as rag carpet. you can buy the window hangings in the store at fifteen cents a yard--though don't imagine i'm trying to advertise the goods. all the furniture covers are of cheap bedquilt chintzes. examine everything, ladies; for, as i've already said, i'm very proud of my cheap little parlor." "you didn't say nothin' about the cost of the labor," said the tormentor. "true," grace admitted, "but i can reckon it with very little trouble, for i did it all myself; i've no grown sons and daughters, like some of you, so i did it alone. besides my time it cost me--well, to be exact, one thumb bruised with the hammer; one finger ditto; a bad scratch on one hand, caused by a saw slipping; half a day of pain in one eye, into which i blew some sawdust; two sore knees, got while putting down the matting; and one twisted ankle--i accidentally stepped from a box while tacking a picture to the wall." "well, i'm clean beat out o' my senses!" confessed one guest. "i never heerd tell that they learned such work to women in cities." "perhaps they don't," grace said, "but i learned most of it when i was a country girl in western new york." "what? you a country gal?" "indeed i am. i can milk cows, churn butter, make garden, take care of chickens, saw wood and split it, wash clothes, and do any other country housework, besides making my own clothes." the woman who had elicited this information looked slowly from face to face among her acquaintances, and then said:-- "i reckon we're a passel o' fools." "oh,--excuse me; but i assure you that i meant nothing of the kind." "but i do, an' i mean it strong, too; yes, ma'am. we're a passel o' fools. i won't feel over an' above safe until i git home an' take a good long think, an' i reckon the sooner the rest of us go too, the seldomer we'll put our foot in it." there was general acquiescence in this suggestion; even the tormentor seemed suppressed, but suddenly her eyes glared, her lips hardened, and she said:-- "i suppose that scrumptious dress o' yourn was made o' scraps, too?" grace laughed merrily, and replied:-- "you're not far from right, for 'tis made of old madras window curtains that cost eight cents a yard when new. there wasn't enough of the stuff to cover all my windows here, so i made it up into a dress rather than waste it, for i liked the pattern of it very much. oh, yes--and there's sixteen cents' worth of ribbon worked into it--i'd forgotten that. but your dress--oh, i shouldn't dare wear one so costly as a black silk. really, i should think it a sinful waste of money that might do so much good to the poor, or to the missionary society, or the bible society, or--" "what time's it gittin' to be?" asked the tormentor. "i'll bet my husban' is jest rarin' 'roun' like a bob-tail steer in fly-time, an' tellin' all the other men that women never know when it's time to go home, an' what a long drive he's got before him, an' all the stock to water when he gits thar. good-by, mis' somerton. some day i'll borrer that ice-cream machine o' yourn, an' a hunk o' ice, if you don't mind." the other women also took their leave, and soon grace was alone with mrs. taggess, who said:-- "i'd apologize for them, my dear, if you hadn't known in advance that they were the most malicious lot in the county." grace laughed, and replied:-- "but weren't they lots of fun?" mrs. taggess embraced her hostess, and said:-- "i believe you'd find something to laugh at even in a cyclone." "if not," grace replied, "'twouldn't be for lack of trying." xix--days in the store caleb's departure was effected without publicity, no one having known of its probability but the somertons and pastor grateway, whom caleb had asked to provide a temporary substitute to lead his weekly "class-meetin'." the substitute, however, made haste to tell of his new dignity, so within twenty-four hours the entire town knew that caleb had gone to new york, and great was the wonder; for from the date of the foundation of the town no claybanker had been known to go to new york intentionally, although it was reported that an occasional native had reached the metropolis in the course of a desultory journey to the bad. philip felt quite competent to manage the business without assistance, early summer being, like spring, a period of business inactivity; but within a week he was mystified by the appearance of many people who had never before entered the store, but who now evinced not only a willingness but a strong desire to become customers. referring to a full list which caleb had prepared months before, but which until now had lain unnoticed in the desk,--a list of adults throughout the county,--philip found opposite the names of the visitors some comments not entirely uncomplimentary; among them, "tricky"; "shaky"; "never believe him"; "don't sell to her without written order from her dad"; "thief"; "require his note, with good endorsement--he can get it"; "her husband's published notice against trusting her"; etc. the incursion increased in volume as time went on, and compelled philip to say to grace, at the end of the seventh day:-- "i didn't suppose there could be so many undesirable people in a single fairly respectable and small county. they've evidently thought me 'an easy mark,' as the city boys say, if i could be found away from caleb's sheltering wing, but not one of them has succeeded in getting the better of me. men talk of the tact needed in avoiding the plausible scamps who invade business circles in the city, but after this week's experience i think i could pass inspection for a city detective's position." "if you had a list like caleb's to refer to, so that you might know what to expect of every one you met," grace added, with a roguish twinkle in her eyes, for which the eyes themselves were obscured a moment, after which infliction philip continued:-- "i really wish that an important trade or two, of almost any kind, would turn up, for me to manage without assistance; not that i underrate caleb's value, but i should like to demonstrate that besides having been an apt pupil, i've at least a little ability that is wholly and peculiarly mine. then i should like to write caleb about it; the honest chap would be quite as pleased as i at any success i might report, and he would feel less uneasy at being away." within an hour or two, a native whom philip knew by sight and name, although not one of his own customers, shuffled into the store, and asked:-- "don't know nobody that wants to trade goods for forty acre o' black wannut land, i s'pose?" "black walnut timber? how old?" "well, the best way to find out's to look at it for yourself." "whereabouts is it? i may take a look at it when i get a chance." "'tain't more'n two mile off. what's to keep ye from gittin' on yer hoss now an' ridin' out with me? we can git there an' back in an hour." "do it, phil," grace whispered. "the horse needs exercise, and so do you. i can hold the fort for an hour." "the land's too fur from my place," explained the farmer, as the two men rode along at an easy canter, "an' i can't keep track o' the lumber market, to know when to cut an' ship wannut lawgs, but 'tain't that way with you." "how much do you want for it?" "well, i reckon five dollar an acre won't hurt ye--five dollars in goods. i've been a holdin' it a long time, 'cause wannut land is wuth more'n more ev'ry year; but my folks wants an awful lot o' stuff, an' my boys want me to lay in a lot o' new farmin' tools, an' make an' addition to the barn, an' i kind o' ciphered up what ev'rythin' wanted, all told, would cost, an' i made out 'twould be nigh onto two hundred dollars, an' i sez to myself, sez i, 'by gum, i'll sell the wannut lot; that's what i'll do.' it's all free an' clear--i've got the deed in my pocket, an' 'twon't take ye ten minutes at the county clerk's office to find that there's no mortgages on it. whoa! there! did ye ever see finer wannut land'n that? let's ride up an' down through it. i dunno any trees that grows that's as cherful to look at, from the money standp'int, as tall, thick black wannuts." philip was not an expert on standing timber, but it was plain to see that the ground over which he rode, to and fro, was well sprinkled with fine black walnut trees. it lay low enough to be subject to the annual overflow of the creek, not far away, but philip was bargaining for timber--not for land. the two men continued to ride until the farmer said:-- "here's my line--see the blaze on this tree? you can see t'other end o' the line way down yander, ef you skin yer eye--a big blazed hick'ry; or, we'll ride down to it." "never mind," said philip. "i'll give you two hundred in goods as soon as you like." "i thort you would," said the farmer. "well, i'll bring in the papers, fully executed, to-morrer, an' i'll leave a list o' stuff that ye might lay out, to save time; my wife can do her sheer o' the tradin' when she comes in to-morrer. an' i'll assign ye my own deed, when we get back to town, so's ye can have the title examined to-day, ef ye like, an' put a stopper agin any new incumbrances, though i ain't the kind o' man to make 'em after passin' my word. 'a bargain's a bargain!' that's my motto." when philip returned to the store he found awaiting him a young man on horseback, whose face was unfamiliar. when the seller of the walnut land had departed, the young man said:-- "see anythin' wrong 'bout this hoss?" after a hasty but close examination philip admitted that he did not. "glad o' that," said the man, "'cause o' this." as he spoke he handed philip a bit of paper on which was written, in caleb's familiar chirography and over caleb's signature:-- "dear jim: anybody would be glad to give you seventy-five dollars in cash for your colt, but you're foolish to sell now. keep him a year, and you'll get fifty more, but if you're bound to sell, please give mr. somerton first show. "yours truly, "caleb wright." "i suppose, from this, that you'd rather have seventy-five dollars than your colt?" philip said, as he returned the letter. "that's about the size of it; but if you ain't sharp-set for a healthy three-year-old, of the kind they hanker after up to the city, i reckon i can find somebody that is, seein' that caleb's a good judge an' never over-prices hosses when he thinks he's likely to do the buyin' of 'em." "come in," said philip, who quickly made out a receipt for seventy-five dollars for one sorrel horse, aged three years, which the young man signed. "james marney," said philip, reading the signature. "i thought i knew every name in the county, but--" "but i come from the next county," said the young man. "caleb'll be disappointed not to see me, but this young woman says he's gone east. what'll you gimme for the saddle an' bridle? i'm goin' to the city an' can't use 'em there." the equipments named were in fair condition, so after some "dickering" philip exchanged six dollars for them, and the young man sauntered off in the direction of claybanks' single "saloon." "'a fool and his money,'" quoted philip to grace; "but as he didn't heed caleb's injunction, i don't suppose any word of mine would have had any effect. mark my words: i'll clear twenty-five at least on that transaction within a week, for there's a city dealer here now to buy a string of young horses. that forty acres of walnut trees is ours, too, and cheap enough to hold until winter, when labor will be cheap; then i'll have the trees cut and hauled to the creek, to be rafted out when the overflow comes." grace looked at her husband admiringly, contemplatively, exultantly, and said:-- "who'd have thought it a year ago?" "thought what, ladybird?" "oh, that you would have blossomed into a keen-eyed, quick, successful trader." "it does seem odd, doesn't it? there's more profit in to-day's transactions than my city salary for a month amounted to. ah, well; live and learn. if you'll keep shop a few minutes longer, i'll put both horses into the barn and go up to the court-house and see if weefer's title to the forty acres of walnut is clear." in a few moments he returned with some papers in his hands and a countenance more than ordinarily cheerful, so that grace said:-- "apparently the title is good." "oh, yes; but here's something unexpected, and quite as gratifying,--a letter from caleb. i didn't imagine, till now, how glad i should be to hear from the dear old chap." "read it--aloud--at once!" grace said, clapping her hands in joyous anticipation. "where does he write from?" "new york. h'm--here goes. "'dear philip, hoping you're both well, i write to say that i'm a good deal better, though niagara nearly knocked me deaf, and new york's about finished the job. if we had water-power like niagara at claybanks, it would be the making of the town. i told miss truett that i thought the foam on the falls beat any lace in her store, and she thought so too.'" "oh, what fun she'll have with caleb!" grace exclaimed. "probably, as you think so; but who is she?" "she's the head of one of the departments of the store i was in. i gave caleb letters to her and some of the other people who would give him information, for my sake, about goods he was to buy for us. mary truett is the ablest business woman in the place, and besides, she's as good as gold; not exactly pretty, but wonderfully charming, and as merry as a grig. she's a perfect witch; i'd give anything to see her demure face as she listens to caleb, and then to hear her 'take him off' after he has gone. but do go on with the letter." "where was i? oh--'new york's noisier than niagara, and all the noises don't play the same tune, either, but my second day here was sunday, so i got broke in gradual, for which i hope i was truly grateful. i sampled the different kinds of churches, one of them being miss truett's.'" "she's an episcopalian," grace said. "i wonder how caleb got along with the service." "perhaps we can find out. he says: 'i don't know whether i stood up most, or sat down most, but i do know that i wouldn't have knowed when to do either if miss truett hadn't given me a powerful lot of nudges and coat-tail pulls, besides swapping books with me mighty lively while the minister was going forward and backward in them. i won't describe the service; for as you and your wife belong to that sect, i guess you know more than i can tell you, but i will say that there was enough "amens" in it to show where us methodists got the habit of shouting out in meeting; and though i can't make up my mind after only one try, as a lot of our customers said when your uncle jethro put on sale the first box of lump sugar that ever came to claybanks, i reckon that it is a first-rate manner of worship for them that are used to it, seeing that john wesley was in it, and you two, and miss truett, for she looked like a picture of an angel when she was reading and singing and praying.'" "poor caleb!" grace sighed. "he's like all the other men who have met mary truett." "does she flirt even in church?" "she never flirts. don't be horrid! go on with the letter." "h'm. 'new york is hotter than claybanks'--rank heresy, caleb--'according to the thermometer, and the way the heat sizzles out of the sidewalks, and meanders upward, ought to be a warning to hardened sinners, and there are plenty of them here. why, i asked a policeman on broadway where was a first-class eating-house, and he pointed to one that he said was the best in town, and i had fried ham, and they charged me seventy-five cents for it, though it wouldn't have weighed half a pound raw. i don't harbor bad feelings, but the owner of that eating-house had better shy clear of me on judgment day. miss truett says it was extortionate, and i wish he could have seen her eyes when she said it.'" "i wish i too could have seen them, for they are superb," grace said. "i must write her for a full report on caleb. but i'm interrupting." "'that seaside boarding-place you engaged for me,'" continued philip from the letter, "'is knocking my malaria endwise, which it ought to, seeing the price of board that is tacked up on the door, but anyhow, i feel like a giant every morning when i start for the city; that is, i think i do, though i never was a giant to find out for sure. i take a walk morning and evening, looking at the ocean, and trying to tell myself what i think of it, but not a word can i get hold of. miss truett says it's just so with her.' h'm--there's that woman again!" "bless her!" "i shouldn't say so. i'm afraid caleb has lost his head over her." "he'll find it again. any good man will be bettered by meeting her. is there anything more about her?" "yes, and at once. here it is: 'miss truett is all interest about your wife, and i like to get her going on the subject, for she thinks that mrs. somerton is everything that is nice and good and splendid; and when miss truett thinks anything, she knows how to say it in a style that beats any lawyer or preacher i ever heard. it ain't a pretty thing to say about a woman, maybe, but i mean only what's right when i say that when she talks it always seems to me that sometime or other she swallowed a big dictionary, colored pictures and all, and not a scrap of it disagreed with her. she says she wishes she had a job just like mrs. somerton's, and i told her that there was only one way to get it, and that if ever i saw an unmarried western merchant of about your age and general style, i'd give him her name and some pointed advice. "'most of the goods you wanted are bought and shipped, and when the corn-meal gets here i'll get out for england. "'with hearty regards to mrs. somerton, i am "'yours always, "'caleb wright.'" "oh, mary truett!" exclaimed grace, when the reading ended. "what fun you've had!" "as she seems to be the spirit of the letter," said philip, "tell me something more about her." "i don't know what more to say. i wasn't familiar with her, for she was a department head, and not of my department, but she had a way of saying kind and merry things to some girls in other parts of the store. she is about thirty; she has parents and brothers, and works merely because she is overflowing with energy, and has no taste for the trivialities of mere society life. yet her manners are charming, and genuine, too. 'twas the fashion of the store to worship her, and no one ever tired of it." "all this, yet unmarried at thirty? how did it happen?" "i don't know. perhaps 'twas because she never met you when you were a bachelor. it hasn't been for lack of admirers. probably she is waiting for a man who is worthy of her. i know she saved many girls in her department and in some others from making foolish marriages, and i committed some of her warnings and arguments to memory--though i got them at second-hand--and i used them on other girls." "i suppose we couldn't persuade her to come out here, to assist you in the store?" "scarcely. she is very well paid where she is. besides, what would there be for her in other ways?" "as much as there is for you, poor girl." "oh, no--for i have my husband." "and you feel sure that she isn't trifling with caleb?" "the idea! if you could see them together--dear, poor caleb, with his thin figure, ragged beard, tired face, and stooping pose--mary rather short, but erect, with broad shoulders, brilliant eyes, rosy cheeks, the reddish brown hair that delights your artistic eye, and as quick in her motions as if she never knew weariness. she's of the kind that never grows old; there are such women. oh, the comparison is ridiculous--'tis unkind to caleb to make it. besides, she is not the only clever business woman to whom i gave him letters." "h'm! he's startlingly silent about the others. what troubles me is this: caleb is so honest and earnest, and so unaccustomed to brilliant women, that he may lose his heart, and the more impossible the affair, the more he'll suffer. 'twould be bad business to have him go abroad to be cured of malaria, only to return and die of heartache." "phil, caleb isn't a fool." "no, but he's a man." xx--profit and loss farmer weefer and his wife appeared at the store early on the morning after the deal in walnut land, and the farmer said:-- "well, want to back out o' the trade?" "did you ever hear of me backing out of anything, mr. weefer?" "can't say i did, but i alluz b'lieve in givin' a man a chance so he can't have no excuse for grumblin' afterwards. well, we come in early, so's to git our stuff an' git out 'fore a lot of other customers comes in. my wife, she thinks she ort to have some little present or other, as a satisfaction piece for signin' the deed, it bein' the custom in these parts." "all right, mrs. weefer," said philip, who had heard of several real estate transactions being hampered by refractory wives, and who thought he saw a good opportunity to prevent any troubles of that kind befalling him in the future, "i think i have some silk dress goods that will please you." silk dress goods! no such "satisfaction piece" had ever been heard of in claybanks or vicinity. mrs. weefer saw the goods, accepted it in haste, and did her subsequent trading so rapidly that she and her husband and their two hundred dollars' worth of goods were on the way to the weefer farm within an hour, and philip, with the new deed of the "wannut land," was at the county clerk's office. "yes," said the clerk, scrutinizing the paper through his very convex glasses. "my son told me you were in yesterday, inquiring about this. oh, yes, this property is all clear; there was no reason why any one should lend on it." "no reason? why, squire, what's the matter with good standing black walnut as security?" "nothing at all, but i thought all the walnut on weefer's ground had been cut." "not unless 'twas done since yesterday afternoon." the official removed his glasses, leaned back in his chair, put both feet upon his desk, and looked so long and provokingly at philip that the latter said:-- "has it been cut over-night?" "oh, no. take a chair. are you sure that you saw this property?" "entirely sure, unless i was dreaming by daylight. he and i rode over it. i was brought up in the west, so i know walnut trees when i see them." "of course, but--did you make sure of the line-marks--the boundaries?" "yes. that is, he showed me two blazed trees, which he said marked his line." "just so. did he say which side of the line his own property was?" "yes--no--that is, he took me over a lot of ground that contained many fine large walnut trees. see here, squire, have i been swindled?" "that depends. weefer is about as smart as they make 'em, so i don't think he'd be fool enough to swindle any one--not, at least, so that the law could take hold of him. did he say the land he showed you was his? tell me exactly what he said; for if he over-reached himself, my old law partner would like to handle the case for you. to win a case against weefer would be a great feather in his cap. the fact is that all the walnut on weefer's land consists of stumps, for the trees were cut off two or three years ago. there's a fine lot of standing walnut adjoining it, but it belongs to doctor taggess." "then i am swindled." "i hope so--that is, i hope, for the sake of our old firm, which i'll have to go back into if i'm not reëlected, that you've a good case against weefer. now tell me--carefully--exactly what he said. did he say that taggess's land was his?" "no--o--o," said philip, after a moment of thought, "i can't say that he did. we rode out there on horseback, stopped at the edge of some wooded ground, and he said, 'did you ever see finer walnut land than that?' those were his very words--i'll swear to them--the old scoundrel!" "quite likely, but did he say that those trees--that land--was his?" "no; not in so many words, but he certainly gave me that impression." "with what exact words?" again philip searched his memory, but was compelled to reply:-- "with no words that i can recall. he talked rapturously about the beauty of a lot of walnut trees, from the money point of view." "but didn't say, in any way, that they belonged to him?" "confound him, no! but he handed me a deed--" "that's no evidence, unless it was taggess's deed he showed you, which evidently it wasn't. well, mr. somerton, you've got no case. morally 'twas a swindle--not a new one, either. he wouldn't have tried it on you if caleb hadn't been away; for caleb knows the lay and condition of every tract of land in this county--just as you'll know when you've been here long enough. you've bought forty acres that won't bring you anything but taxes, unless you can find some use for walnut stumps--and they're harder to get out than any other kind but oak, unless some day the land-owners along the creek combine to put up a levee that'll prevent overflow, so that the land can be farmed, but even then the stumps will be a nuisance. hope you got it cheap." "five dollars an acre," philip growled. "cash?" "no; trade." "trade, eh? well, that's not so bad, though it's bad enough." the old man's eyes twinkled, for what man of affairs is there who does not enjoy the details of a smart trade--at some other man's expense? philip noticed the clerk's amused expression and frowned; the clerk quickly continued, "let me give you some professional advice--no charge for it. keep entirely quiet about this affair; you may be sure that weefer won't talk until you do. if the story gets out, you'll never hear the end of it, and 'twon't do your reputation as a business man any good. we don't publish records of transfers in this county, and of course i won't mention it, and i'll see that my son doesn't either; he's the only other man who has access to the books." "thank you very much, squire. you may count on my vote and influence if you're renominated." "much obliged. whew! five dollars an acre for a lot of walnut stumps!" "five dollars an acre, and a silk dress for mrs. weefer's waiver of dower-right," said philip, so humiliated that he wished to make his confession complete. "what? well, weefer won't talk, but whether he can harness his wife's tongue when she's ready to show off that silk dress is another matter." philip started to go, and the clerk made haste to hide his face behind the deed, and silently chuckle himself towards a fit of apoplexy. "you're absolutely sure that i've no way out of it?" philip said, pausing for an instant. "absolutely," the clerk replied, with some difficulty, his face still behind the deed, "unless--you can find--a market--for--walnut stumps." then the clerk coughed alarmingly, and philip pulled his hat over his eyes and hurried away, with a consuming desire to mount his horse, overtake weefer, shoot him to death, recover the wagon-load of goods, and particularly the silk dress given to mrs. weefer. when he reached the store, he found his wife looking pale and troubled; there were present also three men with very serious countenances, and one of them said:-- "mr. somerton, i s'pose?" "yes, sir. what can i do for you?" "you can shell out my colt that's in your barn. i was goin' to take him whether or no, but your wife said you was a square man, an' would do what was right. well, there's only one right thing in this case, an' that's to gimme back my colt." "there are but two horses in my stable," said philip. "one of them i've owned several months, and the other i bought yesterday." "who from?" "from--" philip took from his pocket the bill of sale and read from it the signature:-- "james marney." the three men exchanged grim grins, and the complainant said:-- "his name ain't marney, an' 'tain't james, neither. he's a no 'count cousin o' mine, an' his name's bill tewks. an' he never had no right of any sort or kind to the colt. the colt's mine, an' never was any one else's, an' i can prove it by these two men, an' one of 'em's depitty sheriff of our county, an' he's got a warrant for bill's arrest for stealin' the hoss. my name's james marney; i can prove it by any storekeeper in this town, or by doc taggess, or your county clerk, or--" "i'll take your word for it," philip said hastily, for the thought of exposing a second business blunder to the county clerk in a single day--a single hour, indeed--was unendurable. "i don't see," continued the claimant of the horse, looking greatly aggrieved, "how a man buys one man's hoss off of another man anyway, leastways of a no 'count shack like bill tewks." "perhaps not," said philip, "but i may be able to enlighten you. do you know a man named caleb wright?" "know caleb? who don't? that ain't all; he's the honestest man i ever _did_ know. i wish he was here right now, instead of off to york, as your wife says, for he knows me an' he knows the hoss. why, a spell ago, not long after old jethro died, an' i needed some money pooty bad, i writ to caleb an' ast him what he could git me in cash for the colt, here in town, prices of hosses here bein' some better'n what they be in our county, where there ain't never city buyers lookin' aroun', and caleb writ back that--" "one moment, please," said philip. "he wrote that any one ought to be glad to give you seventy-five dollars, but that you would be foolish to sell, because you could get far more a year later, but that if you really must sell, he wished you would give me the first chance." the claimant, whose eyes by this time were bulging, exclaimed:-- "you've got a pooty long mem'ry, an' it's as good as it is long." "as to that, i never saw the letter until yesterday. the man who brought the horse showed me the letter; otherwise i shouldn't have purchased." the claimant and his companions exchanged looks of astonishment, and the deputy drawled:-- "how'd he git it, jim?" "it beats me," was the reply. "onless he went through the house like he did the barn. that letter was in the bible, where i keep some papers o' one kind an' another, cal'latin' that's as safe a place as any, not gettin' much rummagin'. he must 'a' knowed i had it. oh, he's a slick un, bill is, when he gits dead broke an' wants to go on a spree. you see, mr. somerton, the way of it was this: the wife was off visitin', an' i was ploughin' corn, an' took some snack with me, an' some stuff for the hosses, so's to have a longer rest at noon-time, not havin' to go back all the way to the house. the colt was in the barn, so i didn't miss him till i got home, long about dusk. bill must 'a' knowed, some way, my wife wa'n't home, an' i could see by the lot o' hay in the colt's rack that he'd been took out 'fore the middle o' the day. i was so knocked by missin' him that i've been on the track ever sence, an' didn't think to look to see ef anythin' was gone from the house, but the cuss must 'a' prowled 'roun' consid'able ef he got that letter. didn't bring in my rifle an' shotgun to sell, did he, nor flat-irons, nor cook-stove?" "no, although he did sell me a saddle and bridle. i hope you'll succeed in catching the scamp." "oh, i ain't got no use for him. the furder away he gits, the better satisfied i'll be. we ain't never had no other thief 'mong our relations. i reckon it's you that ought to want him. what i want is my colt, an' i'm goin' to have him--peaceful, ef i kin, or by law, ef i must. he's thar--in your barn; i seen him through the door; so did my frien's here, so there's no good beatin' about the bush an'--" "stop!" said philip. "there's no sense in insinuating that i would knowingly retain stolen property--unless you wish to have your tongue knocked down your throat." "that's fair talk, jim, an' i don't blame him for givin' it to you," suggested the deputy. "now you chaw yerself for a while, an' let me say somethin'. it don't stan' to reason that any business man is goin' to try to keep a stolen hoss. on 'tother han', he'd be a fool to give up on the word o' three men he never seen till just now. you, jim, ain't such a fool as to want to air the family skunk so fur from home, an' mr. somerton here ain't likely to be over'n above anxious to have a fuss that'll let ev'rybody in town know that he was took in by an amatoor hoss-thief. now, jim, jest sa'nter out an' get some square man, an' not a storekeeper that knows ye, to come in an' speak for ye, as if ye wanted to buy some goods on credit. thet'll prove who ye be, an' like enough he'll know me, too, 'specially if it's--" "why not doctor taggess?" philip suggested. "good idee," the officer replied, "for he knows both of us." "an' he knows the colt, too," said the claimant. "better and better," philip declared, for anything would have been preferable, at claybanks or any other western town, to being known as a merchant to whom a thief could sell anything. fortunately the doctor was at home; he came to the store, identified the claimant, vouched for his honesty and truthfulness, and then identified the colt as the claimant's property. philip told the entire story to the doctor, who said there was nothing to do but surrender the horse--or repurchase him. "how much do you want for him, mr. marney?" "ye ain't said what ye give a'ready." "no; that's a different matter. what is your price?" "cash, note, or trade?" "whichever you like, if the figures are right." "well, seein' you've been put to expense a'ready, an' i don't need money for a couple o' months yet, an' you'll most likely give more on time than in cash, i'd rather take your sixty-day note for a hundred back home with me than take the colt back. no other man could have him so cheap." "you shall have it--on condition, written and signed, that neither of you three shall tell the story of the thief's sale. no one else can tell it." "you'll stand by me, boys?" said the claimant, appealingly. "sure!" "then i'll take the note, mr. somerton, an' you've done the square thing. but say, i'll throw off five dollar ef ye'll tell me what ye paid fer him." "no," said philip, beginning to draw a bill of sale to include the condition already specified. "i'll make it ten." "no." "ah, say! i cayn't sleep peaceful without knowin', but this is rubbin' it in. fifteen!" "sign this, please," said philip, showing the bill of sale. then he passed over his own note for eighty-five dollars, and said:-- "i paid seventy-five dollars, cash." "well," sighed marney, "that's a comfort--for besides knowin' how much 'twas, it shows what i wanted to b'lieve, that bill was as much fool as scoundrel, else he'd 'a' ast more. good-by, mr. somerton an' doc." the trio departed. the doctor remained to condole with the victim, who could not help telling of his real-estate trade. the doctor laughed,--but not too long,--then he said:-- "there ought to be finer grainings and markings, and, therefore, more money, in walnut roots than in the average of trees. i've been intending to experiment in that direction. as to that colt, let me drive him for you a few days; he may have the making of both prices in him." when the doctor departed, philip got out his own horse and buggy, and insisted that his wife should drive, but grace was reluctant to go. something seemed to be troubling her. philip asked what it was. "i wish caleb were back," she said. "_et tu, brute?_ now is my humiliation complete; but as caleb is where he is, let us make the best of it." so saying, he indited the following telegram to caleb, for grace to send from the railway station, three miles distant:-- "look up a buyer for big walnut stumps. "philip." xxi--cupid and corn-meal "this," said philip, as he returned one morning from the post-office to the store, with an open letter in his hand, "is about the twelfth letter i've had from old acquaintances in new york, and all are as like unto one another as if written by the same hand. the writers imagine that the west is bursting with opportunities for men whose wits are abler than their hands. what a chance i would have to avenge myself on mine enemy--if i had one!" "and this," grace said, after opening a letter addressed to herself that philip had given her, "is from mary truett. i wonder if she has caught the western fever from caleb? oh--i declare!" "your slave awaits the declaration." "she, too, wants to know if there isn't a place here for a clever young man--her brother; it seems he is a civil engineer and landscape architect." "imagine it! a landscape architect--at claybanks! ask her if he can live on air, and sleep on the ground with a tree-top for roof. doesn't she say anything about caleb?" "i'm skipping her brother and looking for it, as fast as i can. yes; here it is. there! didn't i tell you how sensible she always was? she thanks me for introducing caleb, and says he's the most interesting and genial man she has met in a long time, though, she says, she wonders whose grammar was in vogue when caleb went to school. and--dear me!--this is becoming serious!" "my dear girl," said philip, "there are different ways of reading a letter aloud. won't you choose a new one or let me have the letter itself, when you've read it, provided it contains no secrets?" "do wait a moment, phil! you're as curious as women are said to be. it seems that caleb has persuaded her to accompany him to a prayer-meeting; and as she has also been to a theatre with him, i'm afraid the persuading, or a hint to that effect, must have been on her part. she says he has completely changed in appearance--and by what means, do you suppose?" "i can't imagine." "his beard has gone, and his hair has been cut eastern fashion, and his mustache turned up at the ends, and he dresses well,--mary says so,--and that the contrast is startling. oh, phil! what if he should--" "should what? fall in love with your paragon of women? well, i suppose men are never too old to make fools of themselves, and caleb is only forty, but i beg that you'll at once remind miss truett that caleb is too good a man to be hurt at heart for a woman's amusement. why are you looking at nothing in that vague manner?" "i'm trying to imagine caleb's new appearance." "spare yourself the effort. i'll telegraph him for a photograph." "but i want to know--at once, to see whether he's really impressed mary more seriously than she admits." "oh, you women! you can start a possible romance on less basis than would serve for a dream. do go backward in that letter, to the lady's brother, if only to suppress your imagination." "i suppose i must," sighed grace, "for i've reached the end. the brother, it seems, can secure a railroad pass to visit this country, if there is any possible business opening for him here." "i wish there were, i'm sure, for i don't know of a place more in need of services such as a landscape architect could render, but you know that he couldn't earn a dollar." "but it seems that he knows something of road-making and grading." "which also are accomplishments that might be put to good use here, if there were any one to pay for the work." "i have it!" grace said. "the very thing! don't you dare laugh at me until i tell it all. you know--or i do--that doctor taggess thinks claybanks would be far less malarious if the swamp lands could be drained. he says the malarious exhalation, whatever it is, seems to be heavier than the air, and is therefore comparatively local in its effects, for he has known certain towns and other small localities to be entirely free from it, though the surrounding country was full of it. now, if some surveyor and engineer--say mary truett's brother--could find out how to drain our claybanks swamps, it might make this a healthy town. is that a very silly notion?" "silly? not a bit of it! but, my dear girl, do you know what such an enterprise would cost?" "no, but i do know what i suffered on the day of my awful malarial attack and that i shall never forget the spectacle of a poor, dear, little, helpless, innocent baby shaking with a chill!" "poor girl! poor baby! but don't you suppose that our swamp lands have been studied for years by the men most interested in them--the farmers and other owners?--studied and worked at?" "perhaps they have, but doctor taggess says farmers always do things in the hardest way; they've not time and money to try any other. besides, since i began to think of it i've often recalled a case somewhat similar. in our town in western new york the railway station was very inconvenient; it was on a bridge crossing the track, and everything and everybody had to go up and down stairs or up and down hill to get to or from it. it was talked of at town meetings and the post-office and other places, and public-spirited citizens roamed the line from one end of town to the other, looking for a spot where the station could be placed near the level of the track. "at last they subscribed money to pay for a new site, if the company would move its station to the level, and one day a surveyor and his men came up, and he looked about with an instrument, and a few days afterward a little cutting at one place and a little filling just back of it did the business, and all the village wiseacres called themselves names for not thinking of the same thing, but grandpa said, 'it takes a shoemaker to make shoes.' you know the swamps are almost dry now, because of the hot weather; don't you suppose a surveyor and engineer, or even a sensible man who's studied physical geography in school, might be able to go over the ground and learn where and what retains the water? now laugh, if you like." "grace, you ought to have been a man!" "no, thank you--not unless you had been a woman. but you really think my plan isn't foolish?" "as one of the owners of swamp land, i am so impressed with your wisdom that i suggest that we invite miss truett's brother to visit us; tell him the outlook is bad, but say we'll guarantee him--well, a hundred-dollar fee to look into a matter in which we personally are interested. if your plan is practicable, i'll recover the money easily. i'll write him this afternoon--or you may do it, through his sister. let us see what else is in the mail. why, i didn't suspect it, the address being typewritten!--ah, young woman, now for my revenge, for here's a letter from caleb, and if 'tis anything like the last--yes, here it is--miss truett, miss truett, miss truett." "oh, phil!" "i'll be merciful, and read every word, without stopping to sentimentalize:-- "'dear philip: i'm in it, as jonah thought when the whale shut his mouth. when i say "it" i mean all of new york that i can pervade while waiting for the corn-meal to come. i've been to a new york prayer-meeting and i can't say that it was any better than the claybanks kind, except that miss truett went with me and joined in all the hymns as natural as if brought up on them. you ought to hear her voice. 'tain't as loud as some, but it goes right to the heart of a hymn. next day i went to a museum in a big park and saw more things than i can ever get straightened out in my head: i wish i could have had your wife's camera for company. "'i went to a theatre, too. i had no more idea of doing it than you have of selling liquor, but i got into a sort of argument with miss truett, without meaning to, about the great amount of that kind of sin that was going on; and when she said that she didn't think it was always sinful, i felt like the man that cussed somebody in the dark for stepping on his toes, and then found it was the preacher that done the stepping. she said she really thought that some kinds of theatre would do a sight of good to a hard-working man like me, and that she'd like to see me under the influence of a good comedy for a spell; so i told her there was one way of doing it, and that was to name the comedy and then go along with me, so as to give her observing powers a fair chance. she did it, and i ain't sorry i went; though if you don't mind keeping it to yourself, there won't be some claybanks prayers wasted on me that might be more useful if kept nearer home. "'who should i run against on broadway one day but an old chum of mine in the army? he'd got a commission, after the war, in the regulars, and got retired for a bad wound he got in the indian country, yet, for all that, he didn't look any older than he used to. he took me visiting to his post of the grand army of the republic one night, and there i saw a lot of vets that looked as spruce and chipper as if they was beaus just going to see their sweethearts. "what's the matter with you fellows here, that you don't grow old?" says i to my old chum. he didn't understand me at first, but when he saw what i was driving at, he said many of the members of the post were older than i, but 'twasn't thought good sense in new york for a fellow to look older than he was, and he didn't see why 'twas good sense anywhere. i felt sort of riled, and he nagged me awhile, good-natured like, about trying to pass for my own grandfather, till i said: "look here, jim, if you've got any fountain of youth around new york, i'm the man that ain't afraid to take a dip." "good boy!" says he. "i'd like the job of reconstructing you, for old times' sake." "no fooling?" says i; for in old times jim wouldn't let anything stand in the way of a joke. "honor bright, cale," said he, "for i want you to look like yourself, and you can do it." remembering some advertisements i've seen in newspapers, i says, "what do you do it with--pills or powders?" jim coughed up a laugh from the bottom of his boots, and says he: "neither. come along!" "'well, i was skittisher than i've been since gettysburg, not knowing what new-fangled treatment he had in his mind, and how it would agree with me; but he took me into a barber shop where he appeared to know a man, and he did some whispering, and,--well, when that barber got through, first giving me a hair-cut and then a shave, and fussing over my mustache for a spell, and i got a sight of my face in the glass, i thought 'twas somebody else i was looking at, and somebody that i'd seen before, a long time ago, and it wasn't until i tried to brush a fly off my nose that i found 'twas i. maybe you think i was a fool, but i was so tickled that i yelled, "whoop--ee!" right out in meeting. "there!" says jim, when we got outside. "don't you ever wear long hair and a beard again--not while i'm around." "'then he took me to a tailor shop about forty times as big as your store, and picked out a suit of clothes for me, and a hat and shirt, and the whole business. 'twas the hawk howlaway business over again, with jim instead of jethro, only there was more of it, for he stuck a flower in the buttonhole of my new coat. i couldn't kick, for he was wearing one too, but i just tell you that if i'd met any claybanks neighbor about then, i'd have slid down a side street like running to a fire. after that he took me to the hotel where he lived, and up in his room, and looked me over, as if i was a horse, and says he, "there's one thing more. you need a setting-up." "not for me, jim," says i "i keep regular hours, though i don't mind swapping yarns with you till i get sleepy to-night!" then he let off another big laugh, and says he, "that isn't what i mean. it's something we do in the regulars, and ought to have done in the volunteers." so he made me stand up, and lift my shoulders, and hold my head high, and breathe full, at the same time making me look at myself in the glass. "there!" says he, after a spell, "you do that a few times a day, till it comes natural to you, and you'll feel better for it, all your life." "'well, philip, i don't mind owning up to you that i was so stuck up for the next few hours that at night i thought it necessary to put up a special prayer against sinful vanity. next morning i went down to your wife's old store to ask miss truett something, and she didn't know me. no, sir, she didn't, till i spoke to her. she didn't say anything about it, but she looked like your wife sometimes does when she's mighty pleased about something, and i needn't tell you that looks like them are mighty pleasant to take. "'well, i suppose all this sounds like fool-talk, for of course i can't get my birthdays back, but, coming at a time when the malaria appears to be loosening its grip, this looking like i used to before i got broke up is doing me a mighty sight of good. "'when is that corn-meal coming? "'yours always, "'caleb wright.'" "phil," exclaimed grace, "'twould be a sin to hurry that meal east, until--until we hear further from caleb." "and from miss truett?" said philip, with a quizzical grin. "fortunately for both of them, the meal probably reached new york soon after the date of this letter, which was written four days ago, and caleb is probably now on the ocean, or about to sail." "i think 'tis real cruel," grace sighed, "just as--" "just as two mature people began daydreaming about each other? i think 'tis the best that could befall them, for it will put their sentiment to a practical test. cupid has struck greater obstacles than the atlantic ocean and barrelled corn-meal without breaking his wings." "phil, you talk as coldly as if--oh, as if you weren't my husband." "'tis because i am your husband, dear girl, and realize what miserable wretches we would be if we weren't, above all else, hearty lovers. what else have i to live for, out here, but you? suppose any other woman were my wife, brought from everything she was accustomed to, and out to this place where she could find absolutely nothing as a substitute for the past!" "or suppose i had married some other man--ugh!--and come here!" "you would have done just as you have done--seen your duty, done it, and smiled even if you were dying of loneliness. but not all women are like you." "because not all men are like you, bless you!--and always ready and eager to make love first and foremost." "how can i help it, when i've you to love? but tell me now,--frankly,--don't you ever long for the past? don't you get absolutely, savagely, heart-hungry for it?" "no--no--!" grace exclaimed. "besides, i'm easier pleased and interested than you think. i've learned to like some of our people very much, since i've ceased judging them by their clothes and manner of speech. there are some real jewels among the women, old and young." "h'm! i'm glad to hear you say so, for i've wanted to confess, for some time, that i am fast becoming countrified, and without any sense of shame, either. i'm becoming so deeply interested in human nature that i've little thought for anything else, aside from business. when i first arrived, i imagined myself a superior being, from another sphere; now that i know much about the people and their burdens and struggles, there are some men and women to whom i mentally raise my hat. at first i wondered why taggess, who really is head and shoulders above every one else here, didn't procure a substitute and abandon the town; now i can believe that nothing could drag him away. i can't learn that he ever wrote verses or made pictures or preached sermons, nevertheless he's artist, poet, and prophet all in one. i should like to become his equal, or caleb's equal--i may as well say both, while i'm wishing; still, i don't like to lose what i used to have and be." "you're not losing it, you dear boy, nor am i really losing anything. the truth is, that in new york both of us, hard though we worked, were longing for an entirely luxurious, self-indulgent future, and your uncle's will was all that saved us from ourselves. you always were perfection, to my eyes, but i wish you could see for yourself what improvements half a year of this new life have made for you." "allow me to return the compliment, though no one could imagine a more adorable woman than you were when i married you. so long as i am you and you are me--" then words became inadequate to further estimate and appreciation of the changes wrought by half a year of life at "the fag-end of nowhere--the jumping-off place of the world," as philip had called claybanks the first time he saw it by daylight. xxii--some ways of the west caleb and the corn-meal sailed for europe, but first caleb wired the address of a firm that would do the fair thing with a car-load of walnut stumps. miss truett's brother harold arrived at claybanks soon afterward, and when he learned accidentally that philip wished some walnut stumps extracted and that the land was stoneless, he offered to do the work quickly and cheaply, and his devices so impressed occasional beholders, accustomed to burning and digging as the only means of removing stumps, that the young man soon made several stump-extracting contracts, for which he was to be paid--in land. meanwhile, from the back of philip's horse he studied the swamp lands near the town; then he went over the ground with a level, and afterward reported to philip that for the trifling sum of three thousand dollars, added to right of way for a main ditch, which the farmers should be glad to give free of cost, the swamp lands might be converted into dry, rich farming land. "this county couldn't raise three thousand dollars in cash," philip replied, "even if you could guarantee that the main ditch would flow liquid gold." "if that is the case," said the young man, who had nothing to lose and everything to gain, "and as labor and farm tools are almost the only requirements,--except some cash for my services,--why not form an association of all the owners of swamp lands, determine the share of each in the cost, according to the amount of benefit he'll get, and let all, if they wish, pay in labor at a specified day-price per man, team, plough, or scraper, and go to work at once? such things have been done. a farmer who hasn't enough working force on his place can generally hire a helper or two, on credit, against crop-selling time. this is just the time to do it, too; for a lot of farmers in the vicinity who have swamp land will have nothing especial to do, now that their winter wheat is cut, till the thrashing machine comes to them, and others are through with heavy work until corn ripens." "i begin to see daylight," said philip. "but, young man, how did you get all these practical wrinkles in new york?" "by listening to men who've been in the business many years. most of them have had to take scrub jobs once in a while. but please secure the right of way at once for the main ditch; that's where the work should begin. i shouldn't wonder if you could get a lot of volunteer labor from the villagers, if you go about it rightly; for your doctor taggess believes that to drain the swamps would be to greatly lessen the number and violence of malarial attacks,--perhaps banish malaria entirely,--and i suppose you know what it means for a town, in certain parts of the west, to have a no-malaria reputation. it means manufactures, and better prices for building sites, and perhaps the beginnings of a city." "mr. truett, i shouldn't wonder if you've struck just the place to exercise your professional wits." "i hope so. i'll soon find out, if you'll arrange that combination of land-owners, and secure that right of way. now is the golden time, while the swamp land has least water and the earth is easiest handled." doctor taggess, summoned for consultation on the drainage subject, promised to make an earnest speech at any general meeting that might be called; so philip hurried about among the merchants, town and county officials, and other local magnates, and arranged for an anti-malaria, city-compelling mass-meeting at the court-house at an early date. political jealousies and personal dog-in-the-manger feeling are quite as common in small towns as in great ones, but the possibility of a village becoming a city, and farm property being cut up into building-lots at high prices, is the one darling hope of every little village in the far west, and at the right time--or even at the wrong one--it may be depended upon to weld all discordant elements into one great enthusiastic force. when the meeting was held, doctor taggess made a strong plea for the proposed improvement, from the standpoint of the public health; the young engineer read a mass of statistics on the amazing fertility of drained swamp lands, and announced his willingness to wait for his own pay until his work proved itself effective; and the county clerk told of scores of western villages, settled no longer ago than claybanks, that had become cities. the upshot was that the improvement plan was adopted without a dissenting voice, and the right of way was secured at the meeting itself, as was also a volunteer force to begin work at once on the main ditch. "truett," said philip, after the meeting adjourned, and he, the engineer, and doctor taggess walked away together, "unless you've made some mistake in your figures, this enterprise will make you a great man in this section of country." "that's what i wish it to do," was the reply, "for i must make a permanent start somewhere." "your offer to defer asking for pay till the drainage should prove successful," said the doctor, "helped the movement amazingly, and it also made everybody think you a very fair man." "yes? well, that's why i made it" "h'm!" said philip, "you've the stuff that'll make a successful westerner of you." "that's what i want to be." "i don't think you'll regret it," said the doctor; "for much though i sometimes long to return to the east, and plainly though i see the poverty and limitations of this part of the country, the west is the proper starting-place for a young man, unless he chances to have abundant capital. even then he might do worse; for, of course, the newer the country, the greater the number of natural resources to be discovered and developed. the people, too, are interested in everything new, and stand together, to a degree unknown at the east, in favor of any improvements that are possible. they do their full share of grumbling and complaining, to say nothing of their full share of suffering, but there's scarcely one of them who doesn't secretly hope and expect to become rich some day, or at least to be part of a rich community; and they're not more than half wrong, for railways and manufactures must reach us, in the ordinary course of events, and all our people expect to see them. let me give you an illustration. a year or two ago i drove out one sunday to see a family of my acquaintance, living in a specially malarious part of the county, who were out of quinine--a common matter of forgetfulness, strange though it may seem. as i neared the house, i heard singing, of a peculiar, irregular kind. as 'twas sunday, i supposed a neighborhood meeting was in progress. but there wasn't. one of the hundreds of projected pacific railways had been surveyed through the farm a few months before. on the day of my call three of the seven members of the family were shaking with chills; so to keep up their spirits they were singing, to the music of a hymn-tune, some verses written and printed in the west long ago, and beginning:-- "'the great pacific railroad to california, hail! bring on the locomotive, lay down the iron rail.' there's western spirit for you--fighting a chill with hopes of a railway that thus far was only a line of stakes and indefinite promises! such people are worth tying to; their like cannot be found in any other part of the country." the work at the main ditch continued without interruption, thanks to a month almost rainless, until the ditch was completed to the creek at one end and to the swamps at the other. then the main lines in the swamps themselves were opened, one by one, and the swamps became dry for the first time in their history, though small laterals, some to drain springs, others to guard against the accidents of a rainy season, were still to be cut by private enterprise. but the people of claybanks and vicinity were delighted to so great an extent that dreams of a golden future would not satisfy them, so they planned a monster celebration and procession, and there seemed no more appropriate route of march than up one side of the main ditch and down the other, with a halt midway for speeches and feasting. the happiest man in all the town--happiest in his own estimation, at least--was philip; for within a few days he had learned that the despised mining stock which was his only material inheritance from his father had suddenly become of great value. he had sent it to new york to be sold, and learned that the result was almost ten thousand dollars, which had been deposited to his credit at a bank which he had designated. at last he had something wholly his own, should sickness or possible business reverses ever make him wish to abandon his inheritance from his uncle. grace shared his feeling, and was correspondingly radiant and exuberant, for ten thousand dollars in cash made philip a greater capitalist than any other man within fifty miles. he could buy real estate in his own right, to be in readiness for the coming "boom" of claybanks; he could become a banker, manufacturer, perhaps even a railway president, so potent would ten thousand dollars be in an impecunious land. "you're an utter westerner--a wild, woolly-brained westerner," said philip, after listening to some of his wife's rose-tinted rhapsodies over the future. "i suspect i am, and i don't believe you're a bit better," was the reply. "tis in the air; we can't help it." on the day of the celebration grace gave herself up to fun with her camera, for which she had ordered many plates in anticipation of the occasion; for never before had there been such an opportunity to get pictures of all the county's inhabitants in their sunday clothes. she was hurrying from group to group, during the great feast at the halt, when pastor grateway, who was looking westward, said:-- "mrs. somerton, i've heard that you're fond of chasing whirlwinds with your camera. there comes one that looks as if it might make a good picture, if you could get near enough to it." "isn't it splendid!" grace exclaimed. "doctor taggess, do look at this magnificent whirlwind!" the doctor looked; then he frowned, looked about him, and muttered:-- "at last!" "why, doctor, what is the matter?" "nothing, i hope. it may go clear of us. listen--carefully. come apart from the crowd; my ears are not as keen as they used to be. do you hear any sound in that direction?" "nothing--except buzz-buzz, as if a hive of bees were swarming." "i'm glad of it; it mayn't be so bad as i feared. i'm not acquainted with the things, except through common report. where's mr. truett? he had field-glasses slung from his shoulder this morning. here, you boys!" the doctor shouted to several youngsters who were playing leap-frog near by, "scatter--find mr. truett--the man who bossed the big ditch, and ask him to come here--right away!" "doctor!" exclaimed grace. "do tell me what you fear." "tell me first about that noise. is it any louder?" "yes. it sounds now like a distant railway train. what does it mean?" "it means a cyclone. how bad a one, we can't tell until it has passed. if it keeps its present course, it will pass north of the crowd, but i am afraid it will strike the town." by this time many of the people had noticed the great cloud in the west, and soon the entire assemblage heard a deep, continuous roar. then men, women, and children began to run, for the cloud increased in blackness and noise at a terrifying rate, but the doctor shouted:-- "stay where you are! get to the windward of the platform, and wagons and horses! pass the word around--quick! ah, mr. truett! what do you see?" "all sorts of things," said truett, from behind his field-glasses. "lightning--and tree boughs--and corn-stalks--and boards--and something that looks like a roof. also, oceans of rain. we're in for a soaking unless we hurry back to town." "the soaking's the safer," said the doctor, adjusting the proffered glasses to his own eyes. "ah, 'tis as i feared: it is tearing its way through the town. there goes the court-house roof--and the church steeple." abruptly returning the glasses, the doctor shouted as the great cloud passed rapidly to the northward and rain fell suddenly in torrents:-- "men--only men--hurry to town, and keep close to me when you get there." then he found his horse and buggy and led a wild throng of wagons, horsemen, and footmen, behind whom, despite the doctor's warning, came the remaining components of the procession, and up to heaven went an appalling chorus of screams, prayers, and curses, for the word "cyclone"--the word most dreaded in the west since the indian outbreaks ended--had passed through the crowd. the outskirts of the town were more than a mile distant, and before they were reached, the throng saw that several buildings were burning, though the rainfall seemed sufficient to extinguish any ordinary conflagration. philip, who was riding with several other men in a farm wagon, saw, when the wagon turned into the main street, that one of the burning buildings was his own store. apparently it had been first unroofed and crushed by the storm, for all that remained of it and its contents seemed to be in a pit that once was the cellar, and from which rose a little flame and a great column of smoke and steam. "let's save people first; property afterward!" he replied to the men in the wagon when they offered to remain with him and fight the fire. afterward he received for his speech great credit which was utterly undeserved, for after an instant of angry surprise at his loss he was conscious of a strange, wild elation. a week earlier, such a blow would have been a serious reverse--perhaps ruin; now, thanks to his long-forgotten mining stock, he was fairly well off and could start anew elsewhere, entirely by himself and unhampered by conditions. he had tried hard to accept claybanks as his home for life, and thought he had succeeded; but now, through the gloom of the storm, the outer world, especially all parts out of the cyclone belt, seemed delightfully inviting. "where'll we find the people to save?" this question, from a man in the wagon, recalled philip's better self, and he replied quickly:-- "in the path of the storm, and wherever doctor taggess is." it soon became evident that the cyclone path had been quite narrow,--not much wider, indeed, than the business street,--but the whirling funnel had gone diagonally over the town and thus destroyed or injured more than forty houses, the débris of which did much additional injury. philip and the men passed rapidly from house to house along the new, rude clearing, and searched the ruins for dead and wounded. fortunately almost all of the inhabitants of the town had taken part in the celebration. those who remained were numerous enough to provide many fractures and bruises to be treated by doctor taggess and his corps of volunteer nurses, but apparently not one in the town had been killed outright. to obtain this gratifying assurance required long hours of searching far into the night, for some missing persons were found far from their homes, and with extraordinary opinions as to how their change of location had been effected. philip worked as faithfully as any one until all the missing were accounted for and all the houseless ones fed and sheltered. grace had given all possible help to many women and children by taking them into her own home. at midnight, when husband and wife met for the first time since the storm, they reminded each other of what might have happened had there been no celebration and they had been in the store and unconscious of the impending disaster. together they looked at their own ruins, for which philip had hired a watchman, so that he might be roused if the smouldering fire should gain headway and threaten the house. "it might have been worse," grace said. "we have a roof to shelter us." "yes, and we may select a new roof elsewhere in the world, if we like. perhaps the cyclone was, for us, a blessing in disguise--eh?" grace did not answer at once, though her husband longed for a reply in keeping with his own feelings. he placed his arm around his wife, drew her slowly toward the house, and said:-- "you deserve a better sphere of life than this, dear girl. you know well that you would never have accepted this if we had not foolishly committed ourselves to it without forethought or knowledge. your energy and sympathy will keep you fairly contented almost anywhere, but you shouldn't let them make you unjust to yourself. for my own part, i've done no complaining, but my life here has been full of drudgery and anxiety. now it seems as though deliverance had been doubly provided for both of us--first by the sale of our mining stock, and to-day through the destruction of our principal business interest. we can injure no one by going away; if the property reverts to the charities which were to be the legatees in case i declined, caleb will be provided for, even if he, too, chooses to leave claybanks. what shall it be--stay, or go? dear girl, there are tears in your eyes--they are saying 'go!' let me kiss them away, in token of thanks." "tears sometimes tell shocking fibs," said grace, trying to appear cheerful. "i wouldn't trust my eyes, or my tongue, or even my heart to decide anything to-night, after such a day. there's but one place in the whole world i shall ever care to be, after this, and that is in your arms--close to your heart." "and that is so far away, and so hard to reach!" said philip, forgetting in an instant the day and all pertaining to it. xxiii--after the storm soon after sunrise on the morning after the cyclone, claybanks began to fill with horror-seekers and rumor-mongers from the outer world; but most of the natives were invisible, for they had worked and talked far into the night. it seemed to the somertons that they had not slept an hour when they were roused by heavy knocking at the door; then they were amazed to find the sun quite high. the man who had done the knocking handed philip a telegram, brought from the railway station, an hour distant. it was from new york, and read as follows:-- "back yesterday. good as new. english business well started. cyclone in new york papers this morning. please don't abuse the maker of it. look out for his children. lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place. do you want anything from here? answer. if not, i start west at once. "caleb." "'tis evident he hasn't given up his habit of early rising," said philip, as he gave the despatch to his wife. when she had read it, grace said:-- "dear caleb! his return is absolutely providential, and his despatch is very like him." "i'm not quite sure of that," philip replied, shaking his head doubtingly, yet smiling under his mustache. "to be entirely like caleb, it should have said that the cyclone was a means of grace." "i think he distinctly intimates as much, where he refers to the maker of the storm." "true. well, he expects an answer, and i will make it exactly as you wish." grace rubbed her drowsy eyes and instantly became alert. she looked inquiringly at her husband, and said:-- "exactly as i wish? may i write it?" "may you? what a question! was there ever a time when your wish was not law to me?" "never--bless you!--but some laws are hard to bear." "not when you make them, sweetheart. aren't we one? write the answer." grace's eyes became by turns melting, luminous, dancing,--exactly as they had been of old, at the rare times when philip would come home from the office with a pleasing surprise,--opera-tickets, perhaps, or the promise of an afternoon and night at the seashore, or a moonlight trip on the river. they reminded him of the delightful old times of which they seemed to promise a renewal, and his heart leaped with joy at the hope and belief that the answer grace would write would break the chains that bound her and him to claybanks. while grace wrote, philip closed his eyes and imagined himself and his wife spending a restful, delightful summer together, far from the heat, dust, shabbiness, and dilapidation of their part of the west. certainly they would have earned it, and was not the laborer worthy of his hire? he was aroused from his dreams by a bit of paper thrust into his hand. he opened his eyes and read:-- "count on me to do as you would in the same circumstances. will reopen for business at once. duplicate in new york your purchases of a few weeks ago. refer to ---- bank, in which i have a large deposit. then hurry home. "philip." apparently philip read and re-read the despatch, for he kept his eyes upon the paper a long time. when finally he looked from it he saw his wife's countenance very pale and strained. he sprang toward her, and exclaimed:-- "my dear girl, you are sacrificing yourself!" "oh, no, i am not," grace whispered. "then why are you trembling so violently?--why do you look like a person in the agony of death?" "because--because i fear that i am trying to sacrifice you--dooming you for life. the despatch shan't go, for you don't like it. yet i wrote only what i thought was right. all that you inherited from your uncle was earned here, from the people who have suffered by the cyclone, or must suffer from the troubles that will follow it. 'twould be heartless--really dishonest--to leave them, wouldn't it? besides, many of them like us very much, and have learned to look up to us, after a fashion. perhaps i wrote too hastily; it may not be practicable, but--" "trying, at least, will be practicable," said philip, after a mighty effort against himself. "'when in rome, do as the romans do;' when with an angel, follow the angel's lead. i'll hire some one at once to take the despatch to the wire, and then--why, then i'll wonder where to reopen for business until the store can be rebuilt." "why won't the warehouse answer? and why don't you go at once to the city?--'tis only a trip of three or four hours, buy a small assortment of groceries and other things most likely to be called for at once, and order a larger stock, by wire, from chicago? caleb's purchases will follow quickly. while you're away i'll manage to get the warehouse into some resemblance to a store ready for goods; some men can surely be hired, and i'll get mr. truett to help devise such makeshifts as are necessary. you can be back by to-morrow night, if you start at once." "upon my word, dear girl, you talk like a business veteran from a cyclone country. if woman's intuitions can yield such business telegrams and plans as you've disclosed within ten minutes, i think it is time for men to go into retirement." "women's intuitions, indeed!" grace murmured, with an accompaniment of closing eyes, yawning, stretching, and other indications of insufficient slumber. "i've lain awake most of the night, wondering what we ought to do and how to do it." "and your husband stupidly slept!" "not being a woman, he wasn't nervous, and i am very glad of it. as for me, i couldn't sleep, so i had to think of something, and i knew of nothing better to think of. but before you go to the city let's get into the buggy and drive over the course of the storm in our county, and see if any one specially needs help." "and leave the remains of our store smouldering?" "we can get mr. truett to attend to it. engineers ought to know something about keeping fires down." "i wonder where he is. i thoughtlessly asked him to breakfast with us this morning. i hope he's not starving somewhere, in anticipation. i hope, also, that we've enough food material in the house to last a day or two; we've the ice-house and warehouse to fall back upon for meats. by the way, isn't it fortunate that i adopted uncle jethro's habit of keeping most of the store cash on my person? otherwise we'd be penniless until the safe could be got from the ruins, and cooled and opened." while grace was preparing breakfast philip hurried about to learn whether any additional casualties of the storm had been reported, and he soon encountered the young engineer, who looked as cheerful as if cyclones were to be reckoned among blessings. "i've been out on horseback since daylight," said he, "and everything is lovely." "there's some ground for difference of opinion," replied philip, looking at the damaged court-house and church. "i meant at the ditch and the swamps," the young man explained hastily. "in spite of the great rainfall yesterday, the ditch did not overflow, nor is there any standing water in the swamps. that isn't all; enough trees have been knocked down, within three or four miles of town, to make a block pavement for the main street--perhaps enough to pave the road from here to the railway, so that full wagon-loads could be hauled all winter long. but there's still more: the creek has been accidentally dammed, a mile or two from town, by a bridge that the cyclone took from its place and set up on edge in the stream. a little work there, at once, would prepare a head for the water-power which i'm told the town has been palavering about for years, and if you don't want water-power, 'twould supply plenty of good water to be piped to town, to replace the foul stuff from wells that have been polluted by drainage. doctor taggess says some of the wells are to blame for many of the troubles charged to malaria." "harold truett," said philip, "do have mercy upon us! we'll yet hear of you engineers trying to get the inhabitants of a cemetery interested in some of your enterprises. block pavements, indeed!--and water-power!--and a reservoir!--and pipe-service!--all this to a man whose principal lot of worldly goods is still burning, and in a town not yet a full day past a cyclone!" "oh, the town's all right," said truett, confidently. "at least, the people are. already they're making the best of it and trying to make repairs, and wondering to one another, in true western fashion, if the disaster won't make the town widely talked of, and give it a boom." "they are, eh? well, i shan't allow the procession to get ahead of me. do you wish to superintend the transforming of my warehouse into a temporary store, while i hurry away to buy goods? mrs. somerton can tell you what we need. you may also see that the fire which is consuming the remains of the old store is kept down or put out. i think the two jobs will keep you very busy." "quite likely, but i wish you'd keep that block pavement and water-power and reservoir in mind, and speak to people about them. a town is like a man: if it must make a new start, it might as well start right, and for all it is worth." "bless me! you've been here less than two months, yet you talk like a rabid westerner! do you chance to know just when and where you caught the fever?" "oh, yes," replied the young man, with a laugh. "i got it in new york, while listening to your man, caleb wright. i couldn't help it. i forgot to say that now ought to be the time to coax a practical brick-maker to town, and show what the banks of clay are really good for. do it before the state newspapers stop sending men down here to write about the cyclone, and you'll get a lot of free advertising. and a railway company ought to be persuaded to push a spur down here; they would do it if you had water-power and any mills to use it." "anything else? are all engineers like you?--contriving to turn nothing into something?" "they ought to be. that's what they were made for. so were other people, though some of them seem slow to understand it. i wish you'd appoint me a reception committee to talk to all newspaper correspondents that come down to write up the horrors. if you'll tell your fellow-citizens to refer all such chaps to me, i'll engage to have the town's natural resources exploited in fine style." philip promised, and an hour later when he and grace were driving rapidly over one of the county roads, philip said that if miss truett were of like temperament to her brother, it was not strange that she was head of a large department. still, philip thought it strange that a young man of so much energy and perceptive power should see anything promising in claybanks. "'tis all because of caleb," grace replied confidently. "mr. truett says that caleb was quite voluble about the defects of the country, but his truthfulness was fascinating through its uniqueness." "h'm! 'tis evident that caleb was the cause of truett coming here, so the town is still more deeply in debt to caleb, who, poor chap, will return to miss everything that he left behind him in his room, and even the roof that sheltered him." "and he was so attached to his belongings, too!" grace said. "do invite him, by wire, to regard our home as his own; he is not the kind of man to abuse the invitation, and i'm sure he will appreciate it." within six hours philip had seen all of his own customers who had been in the track of the storm, he had asked if there was anything in particular he could bring them from the city, and assured them that if they did not make free use of him, they would have only themselves to blame. naturally, he did not neglect to say that within a week he would have on sale as large an assortment of goods as usual, and one with no "dead stock" in it. before nightfall, he was in the nearest small city, and purchasing at a rate that made the dealers glad, and he was also ordering freely by wire from chicago houses that had sold to jethro somerton for years, and who felt assured that no mere cyclone and fire could lessen the somerton power to pay. twenty-four hours later he was at home, congratulating his wife and truett on the transformation of the dingy warehouse into a light, clean-appearing room, thanks to hundreds of yards of sheeting that had been tacked overhead in lieu of ceiling, and also to the walls. counters had been extemporized, and shelving was going up. some of the contents of the old store had been saved, and the remainder was being drenched by a bucket brigade, under the direction of truett, who reported that he had had no trouble in securing workmen, for mrs. somerton had asked them as a special favor to her, and they had tumbled over one another in their eagerness to respond. as to himself, he had found time to draw exterior and interior plans for a new store to be erected on the old foundations, and he begged permission to begin work as soon as the ruins were cool; for, said he, "lumber and labor will never be cheaper here than they are now." "as i remarked before i left, you're a rabid westerner," philip said, in admiration of the young man's enthusiasm. "give it any name you like," was the reply, "though i'm suggesting only what any eastern man would do. besides, i'd like to see everything well started or arranged before caleb can reach here." "you seem to have become remarkably fond of caleb on very short acquaintance," said philip. "i have," was the reply, "and since i've learned that he was sent east principally to regain his health, i'd like, in justice to both you and him, that he should find nothing to give him a setback. that's only fair, isn't it?" "'tis more than fair. 'tis very hearty, and greatly to your credit." "oh, well; put it that way, if you like." philip's goods began to arrive a day later, in farm wagons, moving almost in procession to and from claybanks and the railway town, and several men worked at unpacking them, while philip and grace arranged them on the shelves and under the counters. when saturday night ended the fourth day, the merchant and his wife were fit to enjoy a day of rest on sunday. sunday morning came, and while philip and grace were leisurely preparing their breakfast, there was a knock at the door. philip opened it, and shouted:-- "grace!" grace hurried from the kitchen, embraced a lady whom she saw, and exclaimed:-- "mary truett!" "mrs. wright, if you please," replied the lady. "i beg a thousand pardons!" grace gasped. she soon recovered herself and looked very roguish as she continued, "won't you kindly introduce me to the distinguished-looking stranger beside you?" then caleb pushed his hat to the back of his head, slapped his leg noisily, and exclaimed:-- "distinguished--looking--stranger! hooray!" xxiv--how it came about "now, caleb," said philip, after the four had been seated at the breakfast table so long that most of the food had disappeared, "tell us all about it. don't leave out anything." "all right," said caleb, after emptying his coffee-cup. "i'll begin at the beginning. i don't s'pose 'tis necessary to tell any of you that new york is a mighty big city, an' london is another, so--" "new york savors of business, and so does london," said philip, "and as this is sunday, i must decline to hear a word about worldly things. i'm amazed that so orthodox a man as you should think of such matters on sunday." "tell him, caleb," grace added, "and tell me also, about something heavenly--something angelic, at least--something resembling a special mercy, or a means of grace." as she spoke, she looked so significantly at mary, that caleb could no longer pretend to misunderstand. "well," said he, "as i came back double when you expected only to see me single, i s'pose a word or two of explanation would only be fair to all concerned. you see, before i started for london i felt pretty well acquainted with mary, for i'd been in new york two or three weeks. that mightn't seem a long time, to some, in which to form an acquaintance that will last through life an' eternity, but such things depend a lot on the person who's doin' 'em, an', as you know, my principal business for years has been to study human nature in general, an' particularly whatever specimen of it is nearest at hand. in new york it had come to be as natural as breathin', an' mighty interestin' too, especially when the person's p'ints were first-rate, an' i had reason to believe that i was bein' studied at the same time by somebody who had a knack at the business an' didn't have any reason to mean harm to me." "any one--any new yorker, at least,--would have found caleb an interesting subject,--don't you think so?" said mary, with a shy look of inquiry. "i'm very sure that philip and i did," grace replied. "well, 'twas all of mrs. somerton's doin', for she gave me a letter of introduction to miss mary truett: the lord reward her accordin' to her works, as the apostle paul said about alexander the coppersmith. i carried a lot of other letters, you'll remember, and every one to whom they were given was quite polite an' obligin'; but business is business, so as soon as the business was done, they were done with me. but mary wasn't." "she wasn't allowed to be," mary whispered. "i reckon that's so," caleb admitted; "for somehow i kept wantin' to hear the sound of her voice just once more--just to see what there was about it that made it so different from other voices, so i kept makin' business excuses that i thought were pretty clever an' reasonable-like, an' she was always good-natured enough to take 'em as they were meant." "what else could she do?" asked mary, with an appealing look. "the rules against personal acquaintances dropping into the store to chat were quite strict, and applied to heads of departments as well as to other employees. caleb's plausible manner deceived no one, but he was so odd, at first, and so entertaining, that every one in authority in the store quickly learned to like him, and were glad to see him come in. they would make excuses to saunter near us, and listen to the conversation, and whenever he went out, some of them remained to tease me. they saw through him before i did, and made so much of what they saw that, in the course of time, i had to work hard to rally myself whenever i saw caleb approaching." "she did it splendidly, too," said caleb. "in a little while i got so that my eye could catch her the minute i found myself inside the store, no matter how many people were between us, yet i'm middlin' short, as you know, an' she isn't tall. she'd be talkin' business, as sober as a judge, with somebody, but by the time i got pretty nigh, her face would look like a lot o' mrs. somerton's pet flowers--red roses, an' white roses, an' a couple o' rich pansies between, an' around 'em all a great tangle o' gold thread to keep 'em from gettin' away." "caleb!" exclaimed mary. "your friends want only facts." "i'm sure he's giving us nothing else," grace said, looking admiringly at mary, while philip added:-- "he's doing it very nicely, too. bravo, caleb! go on." "well, she was kind o' curious about the west, like a good many other new yorkers who hadn't ever been away from home, and one day she asked me if there was any chance out here for a young man who was a civil engineer and landscape architect. she said so much about the young man's smartness an' willingness, an' pluck, an' good nature, that all of a sudden i found myself kind o' hatin' that young man, an' it didn't take me long to find out why, an' when i saw that the trouble was that i was downright jealous of him, i said to myself, 'caleb, you're an old fool,' an' i put in some good hard prayin' right then an' there. suddenly she explained that the young man was her brother, an'--well, i reckon there never was a prayer bitten off shorter an' quicker than that prayer was. she wished he could meet me, an' i said that any brother o' hers could command me at any time an' anywhere, so we fixed it that i should call at their house that very evenin'. well, i liked his looks an' his p'ints in general, an' he asked no end o' the right kind o' questions, an' she helped him. i told 'em ev'rythin', good an' bad--specially the latter--malaria, scattered population, bad roads, poor farming, poor clothes, scarcity of ready cash, all the houses small an' shabby; for up to that time it seemed to me that everybody in new york lived in a palace an' wore sunday clothes ev'ry day of the week; afterwards i went about with some city missionaries an' policemen, an' came to the conclusion that the poorest man in this town an' county is rich, compared with more than half of the people in new york. but that's gettin' over the fence an' into another field. her brother was so interested that nothin' would do but that i should go back an' take supper with 'em next evenin' an' continue the talk. well, 'barkis was willin',' as a chap in one of your circulatin' library books said. pity that library's burned; i'll put up half the expense of a new one, for if ever there was a means of grace--" "it shall be replaced," said philip, "but--one means of grace at a time. do go back to the original story." "oh! well, the next day happened to be the one in which i met my old army chum, jim, who reconstructed me in the way i wrote you about. one consequence of jim's over-haulin' was that when i got to their house an' walked into their parlor, they didn't know me from adam; both of 'em stood there, like a couple o' stuck pigs." "what an elegant expression!" exclaimed mary. "you don't say that as if you b'lieved it over an' above hard, my dear, but i do assure you that the expression means a lot to western people. pretty soon her brother came to himself an' asked what had happened, an' i said, 'oh, nothin', except that when i'm in turkey, an' likely to stay awhile, i try to do as the turkeys do.' well, things kept goin' on, about that way, for some days, an' between thinkin' 'twas time for that corn-meal to come, an' wishin' that it wasn't, an' wishin' a lot of other things, i was in quite a state o' mind for a while, an' self-examination didn't help me much. "all the time there kep' runnin' in my mind an old sayin' that your uncle jethro was mighty fond of--'there's only one hoss in the world,' an' the most i could do to keep from bein' a plumb fool was to remind myself that that sort of a hoss had some rights of its own that ought to be respected. i showed off my own good p'ints as well as i could, an' i coaxed mary to go about with me considerable, because mrs. somerton had told me that her judgment and taste were remarkably good,--that's the excuse i made,--an' we talked about a lot o' things, an' found we didn't disagree about much. i accidentally let out what i was goin' to england for, an' she got powerful interested in it, for she'd read an' heard lots about the way the poorest english live in big cities, so she thought i was really goin' on missionary work, an' she said she would almost be willing to be a man if she could have such a job. "she looked so splendid when she said it that i felt plumb electrified--felt just as if a new nerve had suddenly been put into me some way, so i made bold to say that she'd do that sort o' work far better as a woman, an' that there was a way for her to do it, too, if she was willin', an' if her minister would say a few words appropriate to that kind of arrangement." "that is exactly the way he spoke," said mary, "and as coolly as if he wasn't saying anything of special importance." "caleb's mind is sometimes in the clouds," grace said, "where everything for the time being appears just as it should be." "that must be so, i reckon, mrs. somerton," said caleb, "seein' that you say it; but i want to remark that if i was in the clouds that day, i got out of 'em mighty quick, an' down to earth, an' mebbe a mighty sight lower; for mary suddenly turned very white, an' right away i felt as if judgment day had come, an' i'd been roped off among the goats. but all of a sudden she turned rosy, an' said, very gentle-like an' sweet, ''tis a long way to london, an' you might change your mind on the way.' said i, ''tis longer to eternity, but i'll be of the same mind till then, an' after, too.' she was kind o' skittish for a while after that, but she didn't do any kickin', which i took for a good sign." "kicking, indeed!" said mary, studying the decoration of her coffee-cup. "breathing was all the poor thing dared hope to do." "well, at last she said she thought it might be better for me to go alone, so both of us could have a fair chance to think it over, an' i said that i wouldn't presume to doubt the good sense of whatever she thought, an' that her will was law to me, an' would go on bein' so as long as she would let it. just then the corn-meal came, an' i went. after i got fairly started on the trip, i found myself feelin' kind o' glad she wasn't with me. as we've just been eatin' breakfast, i won't go into particulars; but after i got over bein' seasick, i felt as well an' strong as a giant, an' i ran a private prayer an' praise meetin' all the way across. at first i was sorry that i hadn't asked her for her picture to take along, but i soon found that i had one--had it in both eyes, day an' night, an' all the time i was in london, too, an' the more i looked at it, the more i wanted to see the original again. "this bein' sunday, i won't say anythin' more about the business than that i got it started well, didn't slight it, an' left it in good hands. gettin' back to the united states appeared to take a year; i used to look at as much as a passenger could see of the engine, an' wish i could put my heart into it to make it work faster. one day we reached new york about sundown, an' i s'pose i needn't say whose house i made for at once, with my heart in my mouth. 'twasn't hard to make out that she wasn't a bit sorry to see me, so my heart got out of my mouth at once, an' gave my tongue a change. she asked about my trip, an' told me about her letter to you about her brother, an' about your kind invitation to him, an' how busy he already was in claybanks, an' she was able to tell me a lot about both of you, all of which i was mighty glad to hear, but after a while there came a kind o' silent spell, so i said:-- "speakin' about thinkin' it over, i've been doin' nothin' else, an' i haven't changed my mind. how is it with you?' she didn't say anythin', for about a million hours, it seemed to me, but at last she put out both of her hands, kind o' slow-like, but put 'em out all the same, bless her; so i--" "caleb," exclaimed mrs. wright, severely. "we understand," said philip, "having had a similar experience a few years ago;" and grace said:-- "blushes are very becoming to you, caleb." "thank you--very much. but how do you s'pose i felt next mornin' after wakin' up with the feelin' that this world was paradise, an' that it couldn't be true that there were such things as sin an' sorrow an' trouble, an' then seein' the whole front of my mornin' paper covered with the claybanks cyclone, an' nothin' to tell who was killed an' who was spared! 'twas nigh on to seven o'clock when i saw the news, an' for a few minutes i did the hardest, fastest thinkin' i ever did in my life. i sent you a despatch, hopin' that you were among the saved, an' by eight o'clock i was at mary's house. she'd seen the paper, so she wasn't surprised to see me. she was just startin' for the store, so i walked along with her, an' i said:-- "it couldn't have come at a more awful time, so far as my feelin's are concerned, but the claybanks people are my own people, after a fashion, an' some of 'em need me--that is, they'll get along better if they have me to talk to for a while. will you forgive me if i hurry out to them? you won't think me neglectful, or less loving than i've promised to be, will you?' then what did that blessed woman do but quote scripture at me--'whither thou goest i will go, an' where thou lodgest i will lodge, and thy people shall be my people.' 'twas a moment or two before i took it all in; then i said, to make sure that i wasn't dreamin', 'do you mean that you'll marry me--to-day--an' go out to claybanks with me by this evenin's train?' an' she said, 'could i have said it plainer?' by that time we were in a hoss-car, so i couldn't--" "caleb!" again exclaimed mrs. wright, warningly. "all right, my dear; i won't say it. i didn't know, until afterward, that mrs. somerton had been fillin' mary up with letters about me an' my supposed doin's for some of the folks out here. i don't doubt that those stories were powerful influential in bringin' things to a head. well, while she went to the store to give notice to quit, an' to have a fuss, perhaps, all on my account, i went to a newspaper office to find out if any more news had come since daylight began. i wanted to know the worst, whatever it was, an' when they told me that nobody was dead, so far as could be learned, i wanted to wipe up part of the floor of that newspaper office with my knees, an' i didn't care a continental who might see me do it, either. "then i went down to her store, an' got a word with her, though she was rattlin' busy. queer, though, how sharp-eyed some of those new yorkers are. mary hadn't had a bit of trouble. the firm wasn't surprised when she began to make her little statement--they said they'd seen, a month or two before, how matters were likely to go, so they'd selected her successor, sorry though they were at the idea of losing her. they hadn't supposed the notice to quit would be so sudden, but after they compared notes about the front page of a mornin' paper they agreed that they'd be likely to lose mary as soon as i struck new york. i s'posed men as busy as the owners of such a business would have forgotten the name of claybanks, if they'd ever heard it, an' i wouldn't have supposed that they'd ever have heard anythin' about me; but bless you, they knew it all, an' they took mary's words out of her mouth, as soon as she explained that a dear friend who had just arrived from europe needed her companionship and assistance in a trip to the west. 'we hope mr. wright isn't ill,' said one of the partners, an' the other said, 'we greatly hope so, for we learn from the commercial agency that he is really as prominent and useful a man as there is in his county.' think o' that,--not that the agency, whatever it is, was right, but think of me bein' on record in any way in new york, an' of those old chaps havin' known all about mary an' me! it's plain enough that new york folks are as keen-eyed as the best, an' that they've got one thing that we westerners don't know a single thing about, an' that's system. "but i'm strayin' again. at the store i arranged with her that we should be married at her church at four o'clock that afternoon. soon after leavin' the store i got your despatch, which i didn't doubt had already been read up in heaven--bless you both! it didn't take more than two hours to duplicate the orders of a few weeks before; then i went to her house, for the last time, an' she was already dressed for the weddin'--dressed just as she is now. there were a couple of hours to spare, an' as i'd ordered our railroad tickets, i improved the time by tryin' to persuade her relatives, who had been called in on short notice, that she was goin' to be in safe hands. but there wasn't a chance to talk more'n two minutes at a time, for the door-bell kept ringin', an' messengers kept comin' in with flowers an' presents, most of 'em from people at the store. there's two trunks full of 'em, comin' along by express. of course we were goin' to have a quiet weddin'--nobody invited to the church but her fam'ly an' two or three of her relatives, an' my old army chum jim; but when we got there, a whole lot of folks were inside the church, an' when we started out after the ceremony they crowded to the aisle, an' some threw flowers in it, an' then for the first time the dear little woman learned that the store people had turned out in force, the proprietors among 'em, an' all the women kissed the bride, an' a lot of 'em cried, an'--oh, nobody ever saw such goin's on at any weddin' in the claybanks church. an'--to wind up the story--here we are, ready for business, when monday comes. i telegraphed black sam to find an empty house for us somewhere, knowin' that my old room was gone, an'--" "you're to live with us," said philip. "you know we've room to spare, and i know that my wife will be delighted to have your wife with her." "thank you, philip. mrs. somerton's taste in women is as correct as in everythin' else." "but doesn't your brother know?" asked grace of mary. "no," was the reply. "some things are easier told than written. besides, he's the dearest brother in the world, and thinks whatever i do is right. how i long to see him!" "i'll find him at once," said philip, rising. "'twas very thoughtless of me to have neglected him so long, but between astonishment and delight i--" "you won't have far to look," said caleb, who had moved toward the window. "mary, come here, please--stand right beside me--close--to protect me in case he offers to knock me down." philip opened the door, and truett said:-- "i've just heard that caleb came over from the railway station this morning. has he--oh, mary! just as i might have expected, if i hadn't been too busy to think." "you don't act as if you had any ill feelin' toward me," said caleb, as truett, after much affectionate demonstration toward his sister, greeted his brother-in-law warmly. "ill feeling? i'm delighted--quite as much delighted as surprised. i saw how 'twould be before you sailed, for my sister has always been transparent to me. as to you, any one who saw you in mary's presence could see what was on your mind. that was why i came out here. there were other places i might have selected for my own purposes, but when i saw how matters were going, i was determined that the town in which my sister was to live, in the course of time, shouldn't be malarious and shabby and slow if i could do anything to better it." "aha!" said philip, with the manner of a man upon whom a new light had suddenly shone. "now i understand your rage for local improvements, and your western fever in all its phases." "could i have had better cause?" philip looked admiringly at mary, and answered:-- "no." the table was cleared by so many hands that they were in the way of one another; then the quintet adjourned to the windward side of the house, under the vine-clad arbor, and began to exchange questions. suddenly grace said:-- "there's something new and strange about caleb--something besides his change of appearance and his happiness, and i can't discover what it is." "perhaps," said mary, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, "'tis his grammar." caleb's eyes expressed solicitude as they turned toward grace, and they indicated great sense of relief when grace clapped her hands and exclaimed:-- "that is it!" "well," said caleb, "it does me good to know that the change is big enough to see, for it's taken a powerful lot o' work. i used to be at the head of the grammar class when i was a boy at school, but 'evil communications corrupt good manners,' as the bible says, an' i've been hearin' the language twisted ev'ry which way ever since i left school. i never noticed that anythin' was wrong till i got into some long talks with mary, an' even then i didn't suppose that 'twas my manner o' speech that once in a while made her twitch as if a skeeter had suddenly made himself too familiar. one evenin'--i didn't know till afterwards that she'd had an extra hard day at the store, an' had brought a nervous headache home with her--she gave an awful twitch while i was talkin', an' then she whispered 'them!' to herself, an' looked as disapprovin' as a minister at a street-fight. then all of a sudden my bad grammar came before my eyes, as awful as conviction to a sinner. but i was tryin' to set my best foot forward, so i went on:-- "'i said "them" for "those" just now, perhaps you noticed?' "'i believe i did,' said she. "'well,' said i, 'that word was pounded into me so hard at school one day that i've never been able to get rid of it. you see, i was the teacher's favorite, after a fashion, because it was known that i was expectin' to study for the ministry, so the teacher kept remindin' me that grammar was made to practise as well as recite, an' 'twasn't of any use to use the language correctly in the class if i was goin' to smash it an' trample on the pieces on the playground. i took the warnin' an' one day, when four of us boys were havin' a game of long-taw at recess i said somethin' about "those" marbles. one of the boys jumped as if he had been shot, and when he came down he rolled back his lips an' said "those!" kind o' contemptuous-like, an' another snickered "those!" an' the other growled "those!" an' then the first one said, "fellers, preachy's puttin' on airs; let's knock 'em out of him," an' then all of 'em jumped on me an' pounded me until the bell rang us in from recess, an' from that time to this i've stuck to "them" like a penitent to the precious promises.' "well, she had a laugh over that; she said afterward that it cured her headache, but after quietin' down she said, lookin' out o' the side o' her face kind o' teasin'-like, an' also mighty bewitchin':-- "'what did the boys do to make you say "ain't" for "haven't"?' "then i was stuck, an' laughed at myself as the best way of turnin' it off, but for the rest of the evenin' i was chasin' the old grammar back through about twenty years of army talk an' store talk, an' 'twas harder than a dog nosin' a rabbit through a lot full o' blackberry patches, an' i reckon i lost the scent a good many times. i stayed in the city that night, so as to get into a bookstore an' a grammar book early next mornin', an' i dived into that book ev'ry chance i got, in the hoss-cars an' ev'rywhere else, an' when i was on the ocean an' not sayin' my prayers, nor readin' the bible, i was doin' only three things, an' generally doin' all of 'em at once,--thinkin' of mary, keepin' my head an' shoulders up as my old soldier-chum jim had made me promise to do, an' puttin' claybanks english into decent grammatical shape. i tried to stop droppin' my 'g's' too, for she seemed to think they deserved a fightin' chance o' life, even if they did come in only on the tail-ends of words; i'd have got along fairly well at it, if it hadn't been for the english people, but some of them seem to hate a 'g' at the end of a word as bad as if it was an 'h' at the beginnin', which is sayin' a good deal. but see here, isn't it most church time? i s'pose the sooner i take up my cross, the less i'll dread it." "caleb," exclaimed grace, in genuine surprise, "it can't be possible that you've been backsliding, and learning to dislike religious services?" "oh, no," caleb replied, looking quizzically at his wife; "but you're the only old acquaintances i've met since i was married, an' at church i'll meet two or three hundred, an' claybanks people don't often have any one new to look at an' talk about, an' any surprise of that kind is likely to hit most of 'em powerful hard." "go very early," grace suggested, "and sit as far front as possible. philip and i will break the news to the minister before he reaches the church, and we'll stand outside and tell the people as they arrive, so that they can collect their wits and manners by the time the service ends." "that'll be a great help," said caleb. then he drew grace aside and whispered with a look that was pathetic in its appeal: "try to make her understand, won't you, that our folks are a good deal nicer than they look? you went through it alone, a few months ago. i saw your face, an' my heart ached for you, but to-day i'm tremblin' for mary. what do you s'pose she'll think after she's looked around?" "about what i myself did," grace replied. "i thought, 'i've my husband,' and from that moment philip was far dearer to me than he had been." "is that so? glory! mary, put on your bonnet. let's be off for church." xxv--looking ahead "well, philip," said caleb, as the two men met on the piazza before sunrise monday morning, "as sunday's gone an' as there's no one here but you an' i, let's talk business a little bit. you mustn't think that my having taken a wife is going to make me an extra drag on you, an' right after a cyclone, too. my salary's enough to support two on the best that claybanks can provide, an' if you're hard pushed, i can get along without drawin' anythin' for a year, for i've always kept a few hundred ahead against a time when i might break down entirely. i've told mary how your wife's been in the store a great part of the time, an' there's nothin' that mary'd like better than to do the same thing, if agreeable to you an' mrs. somerton. she's had practical trainin' at it, you know." "she'll be worth her weight in gold to us," philip replied, "for i foresee a busy future, about which i've much to say to you. the cyclone, instead of depressing the people, seems to have nerved them to new hope, for the town has received much free advertising; a lot of city newspapers sent men down here to describe the horrors of the affair, and as there were no actual horrors, and the men wanted something of which to make stories, that brother-in-law of yours, who is about as quick-witted a young chap as i ever met, filled their heads with the natural resources of claybanks,--rich soil, drained swamps, plenty of valuable commercial timber, water-power available at short notice, whenever manufacturers might demand it, and, of course, the great deposit of brick clay from which the town got its name. i predict that there will be a lot of chances to make money outside of the store, so the more help we can have in the store, the better. by the way, i wonder what truett has been up to this morning. i heard hammering awhile ago, in the direction of the warehouse. ah! i remember--putting up the old sign over the door--uncle's old sign; it was carried about a mile from town by the cyclone and brought back by a man who thought, and very correctly, that i'd like to preserve it. let's go around a moment and see how it looks, and remind ourselves of old times." as they reached the front of the warehouse, caleb lost the end of a partly uttered sentence, for over the old sign he saw a long board on which was painted, in large, black letters:-- somerton & wright, successors to "who did that?" caleb gasped. "truett," philip replied. "he did it by special request, and i'm afraid he worked a little on sunday, but mrs. somerton and i thought it a work of necessity. you see," philip continued, in a matter-of-fact manner, and ignoring caleb's astonished look, "by the terms of uncle jethro's will i was to provide for you for life and to your own satisfaction, and 'tis quite as easy to do it this way as on the salary basis. besides, 'twill put those benevolent societies out of their misery, and put an end to their questions, every two or three months, as to the likelihood of the property reverting to them. you'll have me in your power as to terms, but i know you'll do nothing unfair. let's have articles of co-partnership drawn up, on the basis of equal division of profits in the entire business--store, farms, houses, etc. i wrote you of the lump of money i got for my father's old mining stock. that, of course, is my own; but if the firm runs short of ready cash at any time i will lend to it at the legal rate of interest, so nothing but a very bad crop year can cripple us. besides, i shall want to operate a little on the outside, so the store will need an additional manager who shall also be an owner--not a clerk, as you've insisted on being." "but, philip," said caleb, who had collapsed on an empty box in front of the store, "i've never had any experience as a boss." "nor as a married man, either," philip replied, "yet you've suddenly taken to the part quite naturally and creditably! the main facts are these: i'm satisfied that the past success of the store business has been due quite as much to you as to uncle jethro, and all the people agree with me. i couldn't possibly get along without you, nor feel honest if i continued to take more than half of the proceeds. why not go tell the story to your wife, as an eye-opener? i think it might give her a good appetite for breakfast, and improve her opinion of claybanks and the general outlook. it might cheer her farther to be told that her brother is the right man in the right place, and bids fair to become the busiest man in the county." "i'll tell her, an' i don't doubt that 'twill set her up amazingly. but, philip--" here caleb looked embarrassed, "you haven't--don't you think you could make out to say somethin' to me about her?" "you dear old chap,--'young chap' would be the proper expression,--where are your eyes, that you haven't seen me admiring her ever since you brought her to us yesterday morning? she's a beauty with a lot of soul, and she's a wonderfully clever, charming woman besides, and i never saw a bride who seemed deeper in love. i can't ever thank you enough for finding such capital company for my wife. i expected to be impressed, for grace has raved about her ever since you first wrote of meeting her, but grace left much untold." "i was afraid you might think she took up with me too easily," said caleb; "but when, after we were married, i told her i never would forgive myself if i did not make her life very happy, she said she had no fears for the future, and that i mustn't think she took me only on my own say-so, for she'd had a lot of letters from your wife about me, all to the effect that i was the honestest, kindliest, most thoughtful, most unselfish man in the world, except you. mary had great confidence in the judgment of your wife, whom she remembered as a very discreet young woman and a good judge of human nature. her brother, too, unloaded on her a lot of complimentary things that he'd managed to pick up out here about me. now, as a married man, an' a good friend of mine, what do you honestly think of my future?" "nothing but what is good. you've still half of your life before you, and if you're really rid of malaria, and if that confederate bullet will cease troubling you, you ought to tread on air and live on sunshine for the remainder of your days." "speakin' of bullets," said caleb, tugging at one end of a double watch-chain, and extracting from his pocket something which resembled a battered button, "how's that, for the wicked ceasin' from troublin' an' the weary bein' at rest? for my first two or three days at sea i couldn't see any good in sea-sickness, except perhaps that it had a tendency to make a man willin' to die, an' even that view of it didn't appeal very strongly to me, circumstances bein' what they were. one day when i was racked almost to death, i felt an awful stitch in my side. i was weak an' scared enough to b'lieve almost anythin' awful, so i made up my mind that i must have broken a rib durin' my struggles with my interior department, an' that the free end of it was tryin' to punch its way through to daylight. so i sent for the ship's surgeon, an' he, after fussin' over me two or three minutes, and doin' a little job of carvin', brought us face to face--i an' my old acquaintance from the south. i was so glad that i could 'a' hugged the johnny reb that fired that bullet, an' i never was seasick after that. but that's enough about me. tell me somethin' about business. do you think the cyclone has hurt you a lot, for the present?" "it destroyed the store and its contents, and i don't expect to get any insurance, but i haven't lost any customers. on the other hand, some farmers are so sorry for me, i being the only merchant that was entirely cleaned out, that they are going to trade with us next year. besides, much of our stock was old, and never would have sold at any price, while an entirely new stock is a great attraction to all classes of customers. we'll have a new store building up pretty soon, if truett is as able as he thinks himself and as i think him. let's go back to the wreck a moment; he generally has some men at work by sunrise, clearing away, so as to get at the foundations and ascertain their condition." apparently the young engineer was amusing himself, for they found him hammering a brick into small bits and examining the fractured surfaces. as philip and caleb joined him, he said:-- "this is a mystery. how on earth do you suppose this kind of brick got into claybanks?" "easiest way in the world," caleb replied, "seein' 'twas made here. 'tisn't a good color, but, gentlemen, i saw whole houses on some o' the best streets in new york made of brick of about this color. they were better shaped, an' fancy-laid, but--" "excuse me, caleb," said truett, excitedly, "but do you mean to say that this brick was made here, in claybanks, of claybanks clay?" "that's the english of it," caleb replied, "an' all the bricks of all the chimneys an' fireplaces in the town are of the same clay." "oh, no; they're red." "yes, but that's because of one of jethro's smartnesses. wonderful man, jethro somerton was. the way of it was this: a newcomer here that wanted to put on some style, like he'd been used to in pennsylvany, got your uncle to order enough red paint for him to cover a big new barn. just 'fore the paint got here the barn was struck by lightnin', an' the new barn had to be of rough slabs, an' the man was glad enough to get 'em, too. meanwhile jethro was stuck with a big lot o' red paint, for nobody else felt forehanded enough to paint a barn. jethro cogitated a spell, an' then he said quite frequent an' wherever he got a chance, that claybanks was a sad, sombre-lookin' place; needed color, specially in winter, to make it look kind o' spruce-like. that set some few people to white-washin' their houses, an' when them that couldn't afford to do that much kind o' felt that some o' their neighbors were takin' the shine off of 'em, jethro up an' said, 'any man can afford to paint his chimney red, anyhow, an' a red chimney'll brighten up any house.' so, little by little at first, but afterwards all at a jump, he got rid o' that lot o' red paint, an' had to order more, an' in the course o' time it got to be the fashion, quite as much as wearin' hats out o' doors." "that explains," said truett, apparently relieved at mind, "why i've not noticed the brick before. i've seen two or three foundation walls, but i supposed, from their color, that they were merely mud-stained. now let me give you two men a great secret, on condition that you let me in on the ground floor of the business end of it. brick of this quality and color, properly moulded and baked, is worth about three times as much as ordinary red brick: i'll get the exact figures within a few days. i know that there is money in sending it to new york, from no matter what distance. some of it is used even in indoor decoration." "whe--e--e--ew!" whistled philip. "je--ru--salem!" ejaculated caleb. "to think that the clay has been here all these years without anybody knowing its real value!" "how could any one be expected to know about anything that existed in an out-of-the-way hole-in-the-ground like claybanks?" "sh--not so loud!" said philip. "such talk in any western town is worse than treason." "'tis reason, nevertheless. there might be a vein of gold here, but how could the world ever learn of it? who owns the clay banks? can't we get an option on them?" "they belong to the town, which charges a royalty of twenty-five cents per thousand bricks," said caleb. "they've brought less than a hundred dollars, thus far." "oh, this is dreadful!--splendid, i mean! a brick-making outfit isn't expensive, and fuel with which to burn the bricks is cheap. can't we three organize a company, right here, in our hats or pockets, and get the start of any and all others in the business? 'twill cost us about two dollars per thousand, i suppose, to haul the bricks to the railway station, but even then there will be a lot of money in the business. if we could have a railway--pshaw, men--claybanks _must_ have a railway! i've selected several routes, in off-hand fashion, over the three miles of country between here and the nearest railway station; there would be absolutely no bridging to do, nor any grading worth mentioning, so the three miles could be built for thirty thousand dollars. let's do it!" "truett," said philip, impressively, "go slow--very slow, or you'll have inflammation of the brain. worse still, i shall have it. caleb may escape, for he has the native westerner's serene self-confidence in his own town and section; but i'm a claybanker by adoption merely. first, you open a mine of wealth before our eyes, in the claybanks. then you tempt us to make bricks for rich new yorkers and others. then you offer us a railway for thirty thousand dollars,--more money, to be sure, than could be raised here in thirty years,--and you do all this before breakfast on monday morning. come into the house with us; i shall faint with excitement if i don't get a cup of coffee at once." "make light of it, if you like," said truett, "but will you look at the brick-making figures,--cost of plant, manufacture, and freight, also the selling price,--if i can get them from trustworthy sources?" "indeed i will--our firm will; won't we, caleb?" "i've been wantin' for years to see such a lot of figures," said caleb, placidly, "an' to see the railroad figures we could touch. i've seen some of the other kind, once in a while." "i hope too many cooks haven't spoiled the broth," said mary, at the breakfast table, from behind a large breast-knot of roses. "i found in the garden what grace pronounces a lot of weeds; but i've made a salad of them, and i shall feel greatly mortified if all of you don't enjoy it." "we are prepared to expect almost anything delightful from what has been accounted worthless," said philip, "after having listened to some of your brother's disclosures this morning. eh, caleb?" "yes, indeed," replied caleb, with an "i-told-you-so" air. "i never doubted that a lot of good things would be developed at claybanks, when the right person came along to develop 'em." "think of it, mary!" said truett. "you remember that magnificent house of old billion's, on madison avenue--a house of yellowish brown brick? well, the foundation of somerton's old store is of just such brick, and it was made here, years ago, of the clay for which the town was named." mary's eyes opened wide as she replied:-- "what a marvellous country! why, grace, one of our firm, at the old store, boasted of having a chimney breast of that same brick, as if it were something quite rare and costly." "why don't you build the new store of it, phil?" grace asked. "that's a happy thought!" said truett. "now, somerton, what do you say to my brickyard plan? put up the first solid building in claybanks--set the fashion. think of how 'twould advertise your business and make your competitors look small by comparison." "very well. see how quickly it can be done, if at all, and then we will talk business. we must have the warehouse clear by the beginning of the pork-packing season, less than four months distant." then he smiled provokingly, and continued, "perhaps, however, it will be better to build the new store of wood, as already planned, so you can give most of your time to building a railroad, so that we may get our golden bricks, and other goods, to market." "there's sense in that," said truett, taking the remark seriously. "as to the road, you may rest assured that my figures are within the extreme cost." "my dear boy," said philip, "far be it from me to dispute an engineer's estimates; but for some years in new york i was clerk and correspondent for a firm of private bankers who dabbled in railways, and i assure you that they never found any that cost but ten thousand dollars per mile." "perhaps not, for most railways are built on credit--generally on speculation, and largely for the special benefit of the builders, but our road--" "what are these men talking about?" mary asked of grace. "a railway from claybanks to the nearest station we now have," said philip. "women love imaginative creations, truett, so tell them all about it." "there is no imagination in this," truett retorted, "but perhaps they will condescend to listen to facts. most companies are obliged to average the cost of their lines over a great stretch of territory. they have bridges and trestles to build, cuts to make, low ground to fill, and they must pay high prices, at portions of their line, for right of way, and they stock and bond their companies at ruinous rates to get the necessary money. as i've already said, none of the routes i have selected requires a single bridge, trestle, or filling, and the right of way, at the highest prices of farm land in this county, won't exceed a thousand dollars per mile." "'twon't cost a cent a mile," said caleb. "any farmer in these parts will give a railroad free right of way through his land, and say 'thank you' for the privilege of doing it. if his house or barn is in the way, he will move it; he'll even let the line run over his well, and dig himself a new one, for the sake of having railroad trains for him and his family to stare at, for the trains kind o' bring farmers in touch with the big world of which they never see anything. if everything else can be arranged, you may safely count on me to coax right of way for the entire line." "score one for truett!" said philip; "proceed, mr. engineer." "thank you, and thanks to caleb. the items of cost will be only road-bed, ties, and metal. a single track, with heavy rails, can be metalled out here for less than three thousand dollars per mile: that means nine thousand dollars for the three miles, and that should be the total cash outlay, for the road-bed and ties can be provided, by local enterprise, without money." "pardon my thick head," said philip, "but how?" "by organizing a stock company with shares so small that any farmer can subscribe, his subscription being payable in ties, which he can cut from his own woodland, or in labor with pick, shovel, horses, plough, scraper--whatever he and we can best use. fix a valuation on ties, and on each class of labor, and pay in stock. 'tis simply applying our drainage-ditch plan to a larger operation, though not very much larger, and one that will be attractive to a far greater number of men. do this, and you merchants and other men of money supply the cash to buy the metal, and i'll guarantee to have that road completed in time to haul to market your wheat, pork, corn, and other produce on any day of the coming winter, regardless of the weather. caleb tells me that you merchants have often lost good chances of the market because the roads between here and the station were so soft or so rough that a loaded wagon couldn't get over them. there are tens of thousands of cords of firewood still standing here, on land that ought to be under cultivation, but the farmers have no incentive to cut it, for there is no market but this little town. the railroad would get it to market, and at good cash prices, and thus doubly benefit the farmers. i'm told that the water-power of the creek has been holding up the claybanks heart for years; and i know that there are enough varieties of commercial timber here to occupy several mills a long time, but no one is going to haul machinery in, and his output away, over three miles of mud or frozen clods." "true as gospel--every word of it," said caleb. "i've heard jethro, an' doc taggess, an' ev'ry other level-headed man in town say the same thing for years." "i fully agree with them," said philip, "but let's go back to figures a moment. i've heard nothing yet about the cost of locomotives, and other rolling stock--mere trifles, of course,--yet necessary." "we should not be expected to supply them," truett explained. "the road which ours will feed will be glad to supply them, as all roads do for short spurs on which anything is to be handled. it would be idiotic to buy rolling stock for a road which at first won't have enough business to justify one train a day. when there's anything to do, the old company will send down a short train from the nearest siding; the run wouldn't require fifteen minutes. you eastern people who are accustomed to a thickly populated country, with many through trains daily, don't know anything about the business methods of the sparsely settled portions of the west, especially on spurs of a railway line." "he's right about rolling stock," said caleb. "ten years ago the railroad company, over yonder, told jethro an' a committee that went from here to see 'em that if we'd build the spur, they'd do the rest. but they stood out for a solid road-bed, as good as their own, an' for heavy steel rails, like their own, for they said their rollin' stock was very heavy, and they wa'n't goin' to take the risk of accidents. the price of the rails knocked us." "naturally," said truett, "for steel rails were four or six times as costly then as they are now." "you've made me too excited to eat," said philip, leaving the table, "and i'm afraid that the trouble will continue until this road is moved from the air to the ground. the main offices of the old company are only about a hundred miles away; suppose, truett, that you and the most truly representative merchant of claybanks--i mean caleb--run up there? i'll look after the men at work on the store. tell the president, or whoever is in authority, that we think of building a spur at once from here to their main track, see what they'll do, and persuade them to say it in black and white. if they talk favorably, we'll hold a public meeting, and try to do something. mrs. wright, we owe you an apology. i assure you that business talk is not the rule at our breakfast table." "i wish it were!" said mary, who, with grace, had listened excitedly until both women were radiant with enthusiasm. "i wish railways could be planned at breakfast every day--if my brother were to be the builder." "now, mary," said caleb, "perhaps you begin to understand the western fever of which i've told you something from time to time." "understand it?" said mary, dashing impulsively at her husband. "i already have it--madly! i'm willing to bid you good-by at once for your trip, though i haven't been married a week. my husband a possible railway director--and yours also, grace! how do you feel?" "prouder than ever," grace replied. "just as you will feel, week by week, as the wife of a clever husband." xxvi--the railway truett and caleb were on their way before noon, but not until truett had first packed several bricks and fragments of bricks, from the foundations of the old store, for shipment to new york, accompanied by a request for probable selling figures of brick of the same natural quality and properly made. he also wrote for an estimate of cost of a modest brick-making outfit. the two men returned within forty-eight hours with a written promise from the trunk line company to lay the rails, if these and a proper road-bed were provided, and take stock in payment for the work; also to take a lease of the road, when completed, by guaranteeing a six per cent dividend on the stock, which was not to exceed thirty thousand dollars. the company also imparted the verbal reminder that a six per cent stock, guaranteed by a sound company, would always be good security on which to borrow money from any bank between the missouri river and the atlantic ocean. "that being the case," said philip, "i will subscribe all the cash necessary to purchase the rails, if the road-bed and ties can be provided according to truett's plan." "don't, philip!" said caleb. "why not?" "because there's such a thing as bein' too big a man in a poor country, especially if you're a newcomer. other merchants will become jealous of you, an' 'twill cause bad feelin' in many ways. work public spirit for all it's worth; give ev'rybody a chance; then, if toward the end there shows up a deficiency, they'll be grateful to you for makin' it up. do you want the earth? quite likely; so remember what the bible says, 'the meek shall inherit the earth,' by which i reckon it doesn't mean the small-spirited, but the men who don't set their feller-men agin 'em by pushin' themselves too far to the front. if folks here don't know that you've a lot of money in the bank in new york, where's the sense of lettin' 'em know it?" "right--as usual, caleb," said philip, after some impatient pursing of his lips. "i begin to see, however, in this guaranteed stock--provided, of course, that the farmers subscribe as freely as truett's plan will allow--a way of relieving the stringency of ready money in this county. we may be able to start a small bank here in the course of time, especially if any manufacturers can be attracted by the hard woods, the railway, and the water-power." "that would realize one o' my oldest an' dearest dreams," said caleb, "for 'twould put an end to the farmers' everlastin' grumblin' about how much worse off they are than the people who have banks nigh at hand. i don't expect 'em to be much better off--perhaps not any, for i've noticed that almost any man that can borrow will go on borrowin' an' spendin', wisely or otherwise, clean up to his limit, an' then want money just as much as he did at first; but i'd like our farmers to have the chance to learn it for 'emselves, for i'm very tired of askin' 'em, for years, to take an honest man's word for it." before sunset philip had called in person on his brother merchants, doctor taggess, the owner of the saw-mill, the county clerk, and the hotel-keeper, and invited them to meet at his warehouse-store that evening, immediately after the closing hour, for a private and confidential talk on a business subject of general interest to the community. caleb went into the farming district and invited a flour miller and several of the more intelligent farmers to attend the meeting. at the appointed hour every one was present, the door was locked, philip briefly outlined the railway scheme, told of the main line company's offer, and called upon truett to detail his plan of construction. the young engineer responded promptly with facts and figures, and made much of his proposed stock subscriptions to be paid for in labor and ties, and the farmers present declared it entirely feasible. most of the merchants were frightened at the amount of cash that would be required for rails, etc., as almost all of it would have to be subscribed by them; but philip, backed by the consciousness of his own bank deposit in the east, assured them that through some eastern acquaintances he could get merchants' short notes discounted for a large part of their subscriptions, and that the guaranteed stock could be sold or borrowed on as soon as issued; if the cutting and delivery of ties could begin at once, the road could be completed soon enough to get the autumn and winter produce to market almost as rapidly as it could be brought in. at this stage of the proceedings the owner of the saw-mill promised to expedite matters by subscribing five hundred dollars' worth of stock, payable in ties at a fair price. the town's last railway excitement, several years before, had caused him to buy in a lot of small timber and saw it into ties, which had been dead stock ever since; he had even tried to sell them for firewood. doctor taggess thought so highly of the project that he said he would take a thousand dollars' worth of stock; he had very little ready money, but through family connections in the east he could raise the money by mortgaging his home. the county clerk said he would take five hundred dollars' worth, the hotel-keeper promised to take a similar amount, and the flour miller asked to be "put down" for two hundred and fifty. by this time the merchants lifted up their hearts and pledged enough more to secure the purchase of the metal. it was then resolved that a public meeting should be held within a week, at the court-house, roofless though it still was, and all participators in the private consultation agreed to "boom" the enterprise in the meantime to the best of their ability. the public meeting was as enthusiastic and successful as could have been desired. caleb had already secured the right of way, as promised, and a statement of this fact, added to those narrated above and repeated at the meeting, elicited great applause. truett announced the valuations, estimated after much consultation, of the various kinds of labor to be received in payment of stock; also, the price of ties, and the length, breadth, thickness, and general quality of the ties desired. as the required number of ties was apparently in excess of the producing capacity of the local saw-mill and the farmers tributary to claybanks, it was resolved that tie subscriptions should be solicited from the part of the county on the other side of the trunk line, and thus expand the blessings of stockholdership. then a list of conditional subscriptions was opened, and it filled so rapidly, that before the meeting adjourned there appeared to be secured as much labor, money, and ties as would be needed; so a committee was appointed to organize the claybanks railway company according to the laws of the state. "is it done--really done?" asked grace and mary, like two excitable schoolgirls, when philip, caleb, and truett returned to the store, which was almost full of expectant farmers' wives. "it is an accomplished fact--on paper," said philip. "to that extent it is done." "your own work, you mean," said truett. "mine has merely begun." "when do you really begin?" asked mary of her brother. "to-day--this instant," was the reply, "if i can get a couple of well-grown boys to assist me, while i go over the route with an instrument and a lot of stakes." several farmers' wives at once offered the services of their own sons, and went in search of them, while two of the women, more "advanced" than the others, themselves volunteered to carry stakes, chains, etc.,--anything to hurry that blessed railroad into existence. fortunately the arrival of several boys made the services of these patriotic ladies unnecessary. "the sooner i am able to avail myself of any labor that may offer, the sooner i shall be ready for some of the ties. oh, those ties! i wonder how many farmers and their sons i shall have to instruct in hewing!" said truett. "i wouldn't waste any time in thought on that subject, if i were you," said caleb; "for what our farmers don't know about hewin' would take you or any other man a long time to find out. how do you s'pose all the beams an' standin' timbers of all the houses an' barns built in this county was made in the days before there were any saw-mills nearer than twenty miles? how do you s'pose some of the log houses here are so tight in the joints that they need no chinkin'? i've heard of some eastern people bein' born with gold spoons in their mouths; well, it's just as true that hundreds of thousands of westerners were born with axes in their hands. the axe was their only tool for years, an' they got handy enough with it to do 'most anythin', from buildin' a house to sharpenin' a lead-pencil!" "good for caleb!" shouted a farmer's wife, and truett made haste to say:-- "i apologize to the entire west, and will put my mind at ease about the ties." the subject of conversation was changed by an irruption of farmers and citizens, who wished to talk more about the new railroad, and who rightly thought that the place where the engineer could be found was the most likely source of information. the questions were almost innumerable, and truett, who was quite as excited as any of them, told all he knew about what certain specified spur roads had done for farming and wooded districts no more promising than claybanks; so the informal meeting became even more enthusiastic than the gathering at the court-house had been, for the farmers' wives added fuel to the flame. the spectacle impressed grace deeply, well though she knew the people; for from most of the faces was banished, for the time being, the weary, resigned expression peculiar to a large portion of the farming population of the newer states. caleb, too, long though he had known all the men and women in the throng, had his heart so entirely in his face that grace whispered to mary:-- "do look at your husband! did you ever see him look so handsome, until to-day?" a strong, warm, nervous hand-clasp was the only reply for a moment; then mary whispered:-- "all the men here are fine-looking!--their faces are so expressive! i've not noticed it until to-day. where did claybanks get such people?" "say all that to your husband, if you wish to fill his heart to overflowing," said grace, "and then, to please me, repeat it to doctor taggess, or tell both of them at once." to share in the enjoyment, she succeeded in getting caleb and the doctor close to her and mary, and quoted to them:-- "'listen, my children, and you shall hear'--now, mary!" "i don't wonder that you're impressed," the doctor replied, when mary's outburst concluded. his own eyes were gleaming, and mary said afterward that his face was her ideal of a hero at the moment of victory. "now, mrs. somerton, can you again wonder, as you've wondered aloud to my wife and me, that i, whom you've kindly called a man of high quality, have been content to pass my adult years among these backwoods people? do see their hearts and souls come into their faces! i know they are not always so, but we never heard of any one remaining all the while on the mount of transfiguration. it isn't the railway alone that they're thinking of, but of what it will mean to themselves and their hard-working wives, and to their children,--closer touch with the great world of which they've read and wondered, better prices for their yield, which means more creature comforts at home, better educational facilities for their children, and less temptation for the children to escape from the farm to the city. they know that all this must be the work of time, but they've never before seen the beginning of it, so now they're building air-castles as rapidly as a lot of magicians in dream-land. i can't blame them, for i'm doing it myself, old and cautious though i am. they can wait for the end, so can i; for all of us, out here, have had long training in the art of waiting. at present the beginning is joy enough, for i can't imagine how any one about us could look happier." the formal survey of the railway route began that afternoon, for the people would listen to no suggestions of delay. it was completed quickly, and that the company was not yet organized according to law did not prevent the immediate offer and acceptance of a large working force of men, boys, horses, etc., from the village itself. the young engineer was his own entire staff, and also temporary secretary and accountant of the enterprise; but as it was his first great job, he enjoyed the irregularity of everything. from that time forward, for several months, the village stores ceased to be lounging places. any villager or farmer with time to spare made his way to the line of the new road, and feasted his eyes, apparently never to fulness, on the promise of what was to be. as the work progressed farther from the town, the farmers of the vicinity, with their families, would saunter toward the line on sunday afternoons and linger for hours, talking of the good times that were coming, and some of them actually moved their houses as near to the track as possible, so that the inmates might be able to have the best possible view of the trains when they began to run. when the road-bed was made and the ties were placed, and the laying of the rails began, entire families picnicked for a day at a time beside the track, although the weather had become cold, merely to see a shabby locomotive push backward some platform cars loaded with rails, and to see the rails unloaded, and listen to the musical clamor of track-laying; for did not each detail of the work bring nearer to them the hope of claybanks for a third of a century,--a completed railway? truett had been better than his word. he had promised to finish the work by christmas, but the formal opening ceremonies took place on thanksgiving day; and more than half the people of the county took part in it. with an eye to business the principal stockholders--the claybanks merchants--hired a passenger train for the day, and gave the natives free rides to and from the nearest station that had a siding and switch by which the train could be sent back. the station had not a great town to support it,--merely five thousand people,--but as the claybankers roamed through the place and saw many houses finer than any house in claybanks, several streets that were paved with wooden blocks and many that had sidewalks, saw the telegraph and telephone wires, and a bank, and a fire-engine house, and horse-troughs into which fresh water flowed steadily from pipes which were part of a general service, their hearts were filled with the conviction that all these comforts and conveniences had come through the possession of a railway. claybanks was in a fair way to become like unto that town, and they made haste, each after his kind, to rejoice. then all of them who were farmers began to lay out, on their mental tablets, the appearance of their own farms as they would be when divided into building lots, and also to count the pleasing sums of money that would be paid by the purchasers of the lots, and also the many creature comforts which the money would buy. the first freight car that left claybanks for business purposes was loaded with yellowish brown brick for new york, and all claybanks was present to wave hats, handkerchiefs, hands, and aprons, as it moved slowly off. claybanks wheat had gone east in times past, so had claybanks pork, and undoubtedly these products had entered into the physical constitution of new york to some extent, but they could not afterward be identified. claybanks bricks, however, were very different. they would be seen by every one, and they would make claybanks literally a part of the metropolis itself. the meaning of all this was felt by the people of all classes; even pastor grateway was so impressed by it that he preached a sermon from the text, "they shall speak with the enemy in the gates," and that there should be no doubt as to who "they" were, a brown brick was at each side of the pulpit for the sides of the open bible to rest upon. the pastor, being a man of spiritual insight, did not neglect to enlarge upon the fact that the bricks themselves were originally clay--mere earth--that had been trampled underfoot for years, seemingly useless, until it had been conformed in shape and quality to the uses for which it had been designed from the foundation of the world, and that each brick was a reminder that the most insensate lump of human clay had in it the possibilities for which it had been created. nevertheless, the majority of the hearers only carried home with them the conviction that the claybanks brick-yard must become one of the great things of the world--otherwise, why did the minister preach about it? xxvii--conclusion "caleb," said philip one evening, as the partners and their wives sat in the parlor of the somerton home and enjoyed the leisure hour that came between store-closing and bed-time, "so much important business has been crowded into the past few months that some smaller ventures have almost escaped my mind. what ever came of that car-load of walnut stumps that i sent east last summer?" "i couldn't have told you much about it if you'd asked me a day earlier," caleb replied. "i turned it over to a man in the fine-woods business--a grand army comrade that i met at my old chum jim's post. he said at the time that the stumps would undoubtedly pay expenses of diggin' and shipment, an' maybe a lot more, but 'twould depend entirely on the stumps themselves. he'd have each of 'em sawed lengthwise an' a surface section dressed, to show the markings of the grain o' the wood. it seems that they were so water-soaked that 'twas months after sawin' before the wood of any of 'em was dry enough to dress, but he got at some of 'em a few weeks ago, an' though most of 'em wa'n't above the ordinary, there were two or three that made the furniture an' decoration men bid against each other at a lively rate. one of 'em panned out over sixty dollars." "what? one walnut stump? sixty dollars?" "oh, that's nothing. to work me up, he told me of one, picked up in the country a few years ago, that brought more than a thousand dollars to the buyer. the markings were so fine that it was sawn into thin veneers that were sold for more than their weight in silver. still, to come to the point, your entire lot brought about two hundred and seventy dollars net, an' i've got the check in my pocket to prove it." "and the land from which they were taken cost me only two hundred dollars in goods! and there are still hundreds of stumps in it! and i felt so ashamed and babyish when i learned that i'd been tricked into buying cleared land, that i almost resolved to recall you by wire, so that i should be kept from being tricked again in some similar manner! i shall have to drive out to old weefer's farm, tell him the story, and ask him if he has any more walnut clearings for sale." "hadn't you better keep quiet about it? where's the use in killin' the goose that lays the golden egg? pick up all the walnut clearin's that are for sale, an' make what you can out of 'em, before you go to talkin'; but if you feel that you must say somethin' on the subject to somebody, an' jubilate a little, go tell doc taggess, who owns the lot you thought you were buyin'. if anybody deserves to make money in the boom that's comin', doc does, an' if he could clear his land, now that he can railroad the logs to market, an' then get out his stumps, he might get cash enough ahead to pick up a lot of real estate, or take stock in millin' enterprises, when the water-power ditch is made, an' so lay up somethin' to keep him out of the poor-house in old age; for as long as he can practise, he'll give to the poor all that he can collect from patients that are better off. the chap that handled the stumps for you asked me a lot of questions about the kind an' quantity of standin' timber out here, and said he didn't see why we didn't start mills to turn out furniture lumber an' dimension-stuff, like some that have made fortunes for men in the backwoods of indiana and michigan an' some other states." "let's try it, if our cash and credit aren't already used as far as they should be. by the way, how is claybanks corn-flour, somerton's brand, going in england?" "fairly. we've sent, in all, about four hundred barrels; that's an average of a hundred a month, with a net profit to us of about thirty per cent, which is better, i reckon, than any of the big flour shippers ever dreamed o' makin'. i've been hopin' that the good tidin's of good food-stuff at about half the price o' bad would work its way into other parts of london an' out into the country, too; but english people don't seem to move about an' swap stories an' prices, like us americans. i reckon i came home too soon, for the good o' that deal, for i had a lot o' things in mind to do in london to make corn-meal popular. it seems to be the english way to let things alone until some of the upper classes take to 'em, so i was goin' to try the meal on some o' the swells; but the more i thought of it, the more it seemed that they too belonged to the follow-my-leader class. so i made up my mind to begin way up at the tip-top, an' so i wrote a letter to queen victoria, sayin' i'd come all the way from america to make the english people practically acquainted with the cheapest and most nutritious food known in the temperate zone, an' that i was catchin' on fairly, but the common people seemed to think it was common stuff, which it wasn't, as i would be glad to prove to her. besides, i knew of americans richer than any nobleman in england who had it on their tables every day. i said i could make six kinds o' bread an' three kinds o' puddin' out o' corn-meal, an' i'd like a chance to do it some day for her own table; if she'd let me do it in the palace kitchen, i'd bring my own pans an' things, so's not to put the help to any trouble,--an' i'd--" "you--wrote--to--the queen--of england," philip exclaimed, "offering to make corn-bread and meal-pudding for the royal table!" "that's what i did, an' i took pains to specify that 'twould be made of claybanks corn-flour, somerton's brand, too--not the common meal that again an' again has let down american corn in foreign minds to the level of the hog-trough. but it didn't work. though i put in an addressed postal card for reply, the good lady never answered my letter. too busy, i s'pose." philip stared at grace, who pressed one hand closely to her lips, while mary looked at her husband as if wondering in what entirely original and unexpected manner, and where, he might next break out. then philip said gravely:-- "how strange! besides, i doubt whether any other man was ever so thoughtful as to enclose a reply-card to her majesty." "well, after waitin' a spell i made up my mind that that particular cake was all dough. one day when i was in the shop, turnin' sample cakes an' bread out o' the pans, up drove a carriage, an' a couple o' well-dressed men, one of 'em short an' stout, an' the other kind o' tallish, came in an' looked about, kind o' cur'us. 'try some samples, gentlemen?' said i, thinkin' they looked as if they was used enough to good feedin' to know it when they saw it. they nodded, stiffish-like, an' i set 'em down to a little table with a white cloth on it, an' i set before 'em dodgers, an' muffins, an' cracklin' bread, an' pan-cakes, all as hot as red pepper, an' some a english butter to try 'em with--an' they do know how to make butter over in england! "well, they sampled 'em all, takin' two or three mouthfuls of each, an' exchanged opinions, which seemed to be favorable, with their eyes an' heads. while they were eatin', the shop began to get dark, an' when i looked around to see if a fog had come up all of a-sudden, as it sometimes does over there, i saw that the street was packed with people, an' they were jammed up to the doors an' windows. 'it's plain that gentlemen are not often on exhibition in this part of the town,' said i to myself. suddenly the two got up, an' both said 'thanks,' an' went out, an' when their carriage started, the crowd set up a cheer. 'who are they?' i said to a man at the door. he looked at me as if i had tried to run a counterfeit on him, an' he said, 'ah, me eye!' but another chap said:-- "'it's the prince, an' the duke o' somethinorother.'" "h'm! yet you never got a reply on that postal card!" "never. i meant to try again, an' register the letter, so as to be sure that it got into the right hands, but somethin' kept tellin' me 'twas time to get back home. but if you'll let me make a trip again next fall, at my own expense, i'll try for better luck. anyway, i'll work the corn-meal plan on liverpool an' other cities, an' if it takes as well as it's done in london, 'twon't be long before a good many thousan's of bushels of claybanks corn'll be saved from the distilleries, in the course of a year." "phil," grace remarked, "caleb's wish to go abroad in the fall reminds me that i want you to take me east for a few weeks in the spring, and we ought to begin our preparations at once. as 'tis near christmas, mary and i have been talking of presents, and particularly of one which you and caleb can join in giving us and at the same time secure to yourselves more of the business and social companionship of your wives. we want a housekeeper." "sensible women!" philip replied. "as to your husbands, they will be delighted--eh, caleb? if it weren't that servants can't be had in this part of the country, and help, after the claybanks manner, would have banished all sense of privacy, i should think myself a villain of deepest dye for having allowed the wife of the principal merchant of claybanks to cook my meals and do all the remaining work of the house, and i don't doubt that caleb feels similarly about mary." "well," said caleb, "work that wa'n't degradin' to my dear mother oughtn't to seem too mean for my wife; but, on the other hand, my mother shouldn't have done it if i could have helped it, 'specially if she'd have tried also to do a full day's clerk-work in a store once in ev'ry twenty-four hours." "that explains our position," grace added. "you two men are so full of new business of various kinds that mary and i should be in the store all the while. soon that dreadful pork-house must open for the season, and then we shall see less of you than ever. a good housekeeper will cost no more than a good clerk, and we must have one or the other. we don't want a clerk, if we can avoid it; at present we have the business entirely in our own hands, and when there are no customers in the store, we have as much privacy and freedom as if we were in the house. mary knows a good woman in new york who will be glad to come here as maid-of-all-work, if she may be called housekeeper instead of servant; she has a grown son who wishes to be a farmer and to begin where land is cheaper and richer than it is in the vicinity of new york. with such a woman to care for the house we can spend most of our time in the store, hold the trade of such womenfolk as deal with us, and try to get the remainder; for where women and their daughters buy, the husband and brothers will also go." "that's as sure as shootin'," said caleb. "do you know that in spite of the cyclone the store has done twice as much business since you came as it ever did before in the same months? i'd be downright sorry for the other merchants in town if i didn't believe that we're soon goin' to have a big increase of population, and there'll be business enough for all. philip deserves credit for a lot of the new business, an' his wife for more, which isn't philip's fault, but his fortune in havin' married just that sort of woman. if nobody else'll say it, i s'pose it won't be presumin' for me to say that a small percentage of the increase o' the last two or three months has come through a young woman whose name used to be mary truett." "small percentage, indeed!" grace exclaimed. "mary has secured more new business than i did in the same number of weeks, and she has done it so easily, too. she never seems to be thinking of business when she's talking to a customer, yet she instinctively knows what each woman wants, and places the proper goods before her, while i, very likely, would be thinking more of the woman than of the business." "that's merely a result of experience," said mary. "i'm nearly thirty, with a business experience of ten years; you were a mere chit of twenty-three when you married. still, i don't believe any hired clerk, of no matter how many years' experience, could do half as well as either of us." "for the very good reason," said philip, "that both of you are practically owners of the business. no clerk can be as useful in any business as one of the proprietors." "that remark would 'a' hurt my feelin's, a year ago," said caleb; "but since my name went on that sign over the door, i've been lookin' backward at my old self a lot, an' lookin' down on my old self, too. perhaps the difference has come o' gettin' rid o' malaria, perhaps o' takin' a wife; but i'm goin' to make b'lieve, after makin' full allowance for ev'rythin' else, that nobody can bring out the best that's in him until he begins to work for himself." "no other person would dare criticise your old self in my presence, caleb," said philip, "but you've certainly acquired a new manner in business, and it's extremely fetching in more senses than one. one of the best things about it is that the natives notice it, and talk of it to one another, and are pleased by it, for you're one of them, you know. i'm a mere outsider." "do they really notice it?" asked caleb, with a suggestion of the old-time pathos in his face and voice, "an' are they really pleased? because, as you say, i'm really one of 'em, an' i'm proud of it. i've gone through pretty much ev'rythin' they have--'specially the malaria, an' now that their good times are comin', i'm glad i'm with 'em. but to think--" here he walked deliberately to a mirror and studied his own face for a moment--"to think that only so little time ago as when you came here i felt like an old, used-up man, an' i'd put my house in order, so to speak, against the time when i should have my last tussle with malaria, an' go under, with the hope o' goin' upward." "that was before you met mary," grace suggested. "yes; that's so." "and he must get rid of mary before he can ever have an opportunity to feel that way again," said the lady referred to, as she looked proudly at her husband. "old! used up! the most spirited, active, hopeful, cheerful man i ever met! but, really, you were different, caleb, when i first saw you; it doesn't seem possible that you're the same man. from what i've seen of the people here, i believe it is one of the ways of the west for men to try to look older than they are; you must use your influence--and example--to make them stop it. in new york a man seldom looks old until he is very near the grave; the most active and fine-looking business men are beyond threescore, as a rule--about twenty years older than you, caleb." "ye--es, but they weren't brought up on malaria, pork, plough-handles, an' saleratus biscuit," said caleb. "there's hope for a change here, though. doc taggess says there's nothin' like as much malaria in town as there was before the swamps were drained, and the good times comin', because o' the railroad, 'll make some more changes for the better, for all of us." for a few moments each member of the quartet seemed to have dropped into revery. the silence was broken by philip, who said:-- "caleb, a year ago even you would not have dared to prophesy the changes that have been made, and those which are within sight, yet to you belongs the credit for all of them." "to me? well, i've heard and seen so many amazin' calculations in the past three months that i'm prepared to stand up under almost anythin', but i'd like to know how you figure it out that i've done anythin' in particular." "'tis easily told. if you hadn't fallen in love with miss truett, and she with you, her brother wouldn't have come out here, and the malaria wouldn't have been drained from the swamps, and the railway wouldn't have been projected, and the farmers wouldn't have become owners of guaranteed stocks, which has put new life into many of them, and there'd have been no inducement for manufacturers to use our water-power and our hard woods, and no bank would have been possible, nor any of the public improvements,--paving, water service, and others that will soon be under way. don't you see?" "ye--es, as far as you've gone, but i wouldn't have known there was such a person as mary--bless her!--if you hadn't sent me east, an' your wife--bless her too--hadn't given me a letter of introduction to mary, so i don't see but that honors are about even. you might as well go back a little further, though, and say that you wouldn't have been here to send me east if your uncle jethro hadn't loved your father, an' made up his mind that your father's son shouldn't fool away his life in pleasin' his eyes an' fancies in new york, but should get the disciplinin' that makes a man out of a youngster that's got the real stuff born in him." "caleb, what are you saying?" "exactly what your uncle jethro said to me--an' to nobody else. mebbe i hadn't ought to have let it out; mebbe, on the other hand, it may make you feel kindlier to your uncle jethro. but, to go on backward, there wouldn't have been any jethro to lay up a business start for you if the somerton family hadn't begun somewhere back in the history of the world, an' when you get that far back you might as well go farther an' say that if noah hadn't built the ark, or if he'd been in too big a hurry to get out of it, there wouldn't have been any of us to do anythin'. i tell you, philip, an' just you keep it in mind against anythin' that may turn up anywhere or at any time, that when there's any glory or credit to be given out, an' you want to do the square thing, you'll have to spread it so thin that nobody'll get enough of it to make him feel over an' above cocky." * * * * * people, like nations, usually become happy in prosperity, but through prosperity their lives become less eventful, and consequently less interesting to other people. the water-power of claybanks' "crik" was soon developed, and the mills that were erected, and the people who came to them, made new demands and prices for real estate, as well as for certain farm products. but before all this had come to pass grace made haste to gratify a consuming desire to spend the springtime at her birthplace in the east. while she was there, caleb one day received the following despatch from philip:-- "caleb wright somerton born last night. may he become as good a man as you." caleb showed the despatch to his wife, and then started to put it between the leaves of his bible; but mary made haste to put it in a frame, under glass, and affix it to the front of the store, to the great interest of the people of claybanks and vicinity and to the great benefit of the business of somerton & wright. d'ri and i by irving bacheller, author of "eben holden." bound in red silk cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. eight drawings by f. c. yohn. size, x ¾. price, $ . [illustration] a tale of daring deeds in the second war with the british. being the memoirs of colonel ramon bell, u.s.a. and a romance of sturdy americans and dainty french demoiselles. philadelphia press: "an admirable story, superior in literary workmanship and imagination to 'eben holden.'" new york world: "pretty as are the heroines, gallant as captain bell proves himself, the reader comes back with even keener zest to the imperturbable d'ri. he is a type of the american--grit, grim humor, rough courtesy, and all. it is a great achievement, upon which mr. bacheller is to be heartily congratulated, to have added to the list of memorable figures in american fiction, two such characters as d'ri and eben holden." boston beacon: "mr. bacheller has the art of the born story teller. 'd'ri and i' promises to rival 'eben holden' in popularity." st. louis globe-democrat: "the admirers of 'eben holden,' and they were legion, will welcome another story by its author, irving bacheller, who in 'd'ri and i' has created quite as interesting a character as the sage of the north land who was the hero of the former story." lothrop publishing company - - boston when the land was young being the true romance of mistress antoinette huguenin and captain jack middleton by lafayette mclaws. bound in green cloth, illustrated cover, gilt top, rough edges. six drawings by will crawford. size, x ¾. price, $ . [illustration] the heroine, antoinette huguenin, a beauty of king louis' court, is one of the most attractive figures in romance; while lumulgee, the great war chief of the choctaws, and sir henry morgan, the buccaneer knight and terror of the spanish main, divide the honors with hero and heroine. the time was full of border wars between the spaniards of florida and the english colonists, and against this historical background miss mclaws has thrown a story that is absorbing, dramatic, and brilliant. new york world: "lovely mistress antoinette huguenin! what a girl she is!" new york journal: "a story of thrill and adventure." savannah news: "among the entertaining romances based upon the colonial days of american history this novel will take rank as one of the most notable--a dramatic and brilliant story." st. louis globe-democrat: "if one is anxious for a thrill, he has only to read a few pages of 'when the land was young' to experience the desired sensation.... there is action of the most virile type throughout the romance.... it is vividly told, and presents a realistic picture of the days 'when the land was young.'" lothrop publishing company - - boston * * * * * transcriber's notes: obvious punctuation errors repaired. page , "portmonnaie" changed to "portemonnaie" (also a portemonnaie containing) page , "buscuits" changed to "biscuits" (fried potatoes, tea-biscuits) page , "that" changed to "than" (luxury than queen elizabeth) transcriber's notes minor punctuation errors repaired. inconsistent spelling of proper names has been retained. italic text is denoted by _underscores_ and bold text by ~tildes~. in this book, english and british ships' names are in small caps, other vessels' names in italics. in the plain text version, small capped ships' names only have been marked by =equal signs=. all other small caps have been changed to all caps or lower case as appropriate. p. "which cornelius de with had in vain" replaced with "which cornelius de witt had in vain" a short history of the royal navy to by david hannay methuen & co. essex street, w.c. london preface it has been my endeavour in this book to give a popular, but clear and not inaccurate, account of the growth, and services, of the royal navy. i have not attempted a general maritime history of england. this, which would include the rise and extension of commerce, discovery, much scientific matter and much legislation, would be the life-work of a gibbon or a hume. such a task would be far beyond my powers, even if circumstances, which need not be specified, did not refuse me command of the time needed for so great an undertaking. i am not unconscious that a landsman deals with sea affairs at a certain risk. he has, in southey's phrase, to walk among sea-terms "as a cat does in a china pantry." he is liable to discover, from the criticism of a sailor, that he has made a fleet sail within two points of the wind--a disaster which it was once my lot to undergo. perhaps only long professional experience will save a writer from such errors. if, as is only too probable, there are some in this book, i can but beg for the favourable consideration of the friendly reader. the present volume ends at that dividing line in our history, the revolution of . another will give the history of the great struggle with france and her dependent allies, which began in , and ended only when the time of great naval wars was over--for at any rate the larger part of a century, if not for ever. the main subject of the present volume, apart from the formation of the naval service, is the less known, but not less important, and assuredly not less arduous, struggle with holland. i have made it the rule to adopt the accepted spelling of names--to write monk, not monck; raleigh, not ralegh; hawkins, not hawkyns. matthew arnold once gave it as his reason for not adopting a reformed system of spelling classical names, that he would not pass his life in a wilderness of pedantry in order that his children might attain to an orthographical canaan. that hawkins used a "y" where we use "i" in his name, as in other words, therein following the custom of his time, does not seem to me to be any reason for departing from the practice of the language as it is to-day. david hannay. contents chap. page introduction--the mediæval navy i. the navy of the tudors till the accession of elizabeth ii. reign of elizabeth to the defeat of the armada iii. from the armada to the death of the queen iv. james i. and charles i. v. the navy in the civil war vi. the first years of the commonwealth vii. the first dutch war viii. the latter half of the war ix. the protectorate x. the navy under charles ii. xi. the second dutch war to the four days' battle xii. from the four days' battle till the end of the war xiii. the algerine pirates and the third dutch war xiv. the last years of the stuart dynasty index a short history of the royal navy introduction the mediÆval navy authorities.--sir nicholas harris nicolas has made an exhaustive collection of all the evidence as to the history of the royal navy in the middle ages, in the only two volumes published of his _history of the royal navy from the earliest times to the wars of the french revolution_. it is the basis of this introduction. captain burrows' _cinque ports_, in the historical towns series, supplements sir h. nicolas. a glance at a globe turned so as to bring the british isles directly under the eye will at once reveal the most effective of all the material causes which have made them the seat of the great naval power among nations. it is the unrivalled advantage of their position. they lie between the old world and the new, with free access to the great ocean, surrounded by seas, which, though stormy, are not unmanageable. their coasts are never blocked by ice. no long intervals of calm varied by mere puffs of wind reduce sailing ships to immobility, and limit their size by imposing on them the necessity of relying on the oar. steam has freed maritime war and commerce from dependence on the wind, but the naval power of england was created during the ages of the sailing ship. steam, too, has only made the benefit of free access to the ocean if possible more valuable. it is commonly said that an island is peculiarly fitted to be the seat of a naval power, and no doubt freedom from the perpetual risk of invasion by land is a material advantage. immunity from that danger has saved us from the necessity for expending our resources on armies, which crippled holland, exhausted spain, and has hampered france. but it must be remembered that the great maritime powers of antiquity and the middle ages were on the mainland round the mediterranean, not on the islands. again, it is clear that if, in the place of ireland, there lay to the immediate west of us any great bulk of territory too strong to be conquered, too alien to be absorbed, our insular position would not have saved us from being much confined, if not wholly shut in. but to the west of us lies the atlantic ocean, the beginning of the road which leads to wealth and empire all over the world. no power can block our way thither while we exercise even equal strength on water. before full advantage could be taken of our position, three conditions had to be fulfilled. these islands had to become the seat of an organised state, and to cease from being merely the field in which hostile races were fighting for the mastery. the weapon of sea-power, which is the seaworthy and sea-keeping ship, had to be created. the new world had to be opened to the enterprise of the old, and the globe to be explored. ages passed before these conditions were fulfilled. the maritime history of the country divides itself into three periods. first, there are the ages during which the people was being formed and the weapon forged. this may be said to extend from the first beginnings to the accession of the house of tudor. at that date, when, be it noted, the portuguese were exploring the sea route round africa to the east, and columbus was leading spain to america, there was still much to be done in the work of consolidation within, and in the perfecting of the ship; but a vessel had been made which could sail the world round, and in the british isles it had come to this, that england was predominant, and that for her fellow-islanders the choice was between conquest at her hands, or union on honourable terms. the second period stretches from the accession of the house of tudor to the close of the seventeenth century, when superiority of power at sea had been fully won. the third, beginning with the revolution, lasts until our own time. it includes the two hundred years or so during which england, having now united to herself, or conquered, all rivals within these islands, has exercised the power she had won. a complete history of the maritime power of england would be a vast subject, for it must include the whole story of the growth of her commerce, and her commercial or fiscal legislation. the object of this book is more modest. it is merely to describe in the main lines, and without professing to enter into detail, the growth and action of the royal navy--the armed force by which england has protected her commerce, has made her strength felt in the strife of nations, and has first secured, and then defended, her dominions beyond the sea. the first of the three periods just spoken of may be passed over rapidly. in the earlier ages there was neither the organised state which could wield a navy, nor the ships for it to use. from the days of julius cæsar to those of william of normandy, no invader found effectual resistance for long on water when he was about invading this country. our own teutonic fathers, who were raiding on the coast long before they began their permanent settlements, the generals of the roman emperors who had rebellions to suppress, the "hornets," as simeon of durham called them, who swarmed out of scandinavia, and the conqueror himself, landed as they pleased, with rare and doubtful exceptions. there was no state so rich and so fully organised as to be able to maintain a permanent navy. how fully this was the case was shown in the fateful year . harold was undisputed king in england. the house of godwin was familiar with the use of ships, and possessed not a few. yet within a few months england was twice invaded from over sea. harold must have known that the most effectual of all ways of protecting his crown was by preventing the landing of an enemy. but he was compelled to disband his land and sea forces on the nativity of st. mary, for want of provisions. no organisation capable of meeting the cost of a permanent navy existed. the ships, too, were but large open boats, seaworthy enough, and even capable of making long voyages, but, when full of fighting men, they could not be stored with provisions, and they could not give cover to their crews. so there could be no blockade, no long months of watching spent at sea, without which a navy can never be used except as a mere means of transport. hence for centuries it is always the same story. the invader runs into an estuary, or on to an open beach, and marches inland, seizing horses. a battle on land decides whether he is or is not to succeed in his purpose, whether of mere plunder or settlement. the conqueror himself made so little use of his ships, except to cross the channel, that he could not prevent the danish king from hanging on the eastern coast for months. with the beginning of the thirteenth century there came a great change. the conflict of races was over, state and people were formed in england. on the throne there was a man nearly as able as he was wicked, and he had every motive to make use of his ships to forestall invasions. with king john begins, strictly speaking, the naval history of this country. his predecessors since the conqueror were masters of both sides of the channel, and had no need of their fleets except for transport. they might take english ships and seamen with them on their expeditions as far as syria. under their powerful rule commerce had increased, and a seafaring class had been formed. but john is the first king of england who effectually used his navy to stop invasion. by his continental dominions had been torn from him. philip augustus, king of the french, was preparing an invasion, and john well knew that an invader would find friends among his vassals. being richer and better armed, if not wiser, than harold, he struck first. a fleet of english ships, under the command of john's half-brother, william longsword, earl of salisbury, crossed to damme, where the ships of the french king were collected, and burned them. the scheme of invasion broke down completely for that time. john's reign ended in anarchy. his rebellious barons brought in a son of the french king, and set him up as sovereign. but the death of the wicked king removed the one valid excuse for the rebellion. the country rallied round his infant son and against the invader. within four years the ships of england were again used with decisive effect to crush an invasion. in prince louis and his allies, the barons, had been defeated at the battle of lincoln, and, being now hemmed in between their enemies and the sea, were in urgent need of reinforcements from abroad. stores and men were collected for them in normandy. eighty ships, besides smaller vessels, are said to have been brought together at calais, under the command of eustace the monk. this man was one of the many mercenary fighters of the time, and had once been in the employment of king john. with this force he put to sea, running before a southerly wind. his intention was to round the north foreland, and carry his convoy up the thames to london, which was still held for the barons. if he had succeeded, he might have greatly prolonged the civil war, but, happily for england, neither the man nor the means to avert the disaster were wanting. hubert de burgh, the king's justiciary and governor of dover castle, was at his post. he appealed to the men of the cinque ports, not in vain. "if these people land," he said, "england is lost; let us therefore boldly meet them, for god is with us, and they are excommunicate." hubert de burgh saw that the one effectual way of preventing eustace from doing harm on shore was to beat him at sea before he could land. the man who reasoned like this had grasped the true principle of the defence of england. sixteen large ships and some smaller vessels were lying in dover harbour. they were at once got out by the shipmen and fishermen of the town, worthy ancestors of the men who, centuries later, volunteered to fill up the crews of blake, when he was threatened by tromp in these very waters. the knights, squires, and men-at-arms of hubert de burgh's following made up the fighting crews. training the yards of the one great square sail which the vessels of that time carried on their single mast, fore and aft, the english squadron kept its luff (the word is used by matthew paris), and, standing out to the east, placed itself on the track of the monk, and between him and calais. as eustace saw the dover ships apparently standing over to calais, he came to the not wholly unnatural conclusion that their plan was to plunder the town in his absence. he laughed, for he knew that he had left it well protected. but the intention of hubert de burgh was incomparably more courageous and more effective. he had begun, as every english admiral in after time was wont to begin, by manoeuvring to secure the windward position, which with sailing ships gives him who holds it the option of attack. as soon as the french vessels had been brought well to leeward, the english turned together before the wind, and, forming what in after times would have been called the line abreast, stood at their utmost speed in pursuit of the enemy. the monk was completely out-manoeuvred. his heavily-laden vessels could not escape pursuit by flight, while they must infallibly be thrown into confusion by the act of turning to face the pursuers. it was no small advantage to the english that their arrows would fly with the wind. so soon as they were within shot, hubert de burgh's archers let fly, and the clothyard shafts, or the bolts from the crossbows, came whistling down on the crowded benches of the french ships. all battles then by land or sea were settled at close quarters with cold steel. the english pressed on to board. where the enemy's ships were caught in the act of turning, they drove into them with the stem, ramming and sinking them. when this more expeditious method could not be practised, the english laid the enemy aboard, throwing quicklime, which the wind blew in the frenchmen's faces, into the air in the moment of impact. the boarders followed close on the blinding cloud, and the axes of the cinque ports men fell briskly to work. "whenas he fights and has the upper hand by sea he sends them home to every land," wrote chaucer of the shipman. the cinque ports men, who had had a cruel experience of the tender mercies of john's foreign mercenaries, were certainly in no humour to give quarter to the adventurers who were on their way to england to renew the worst excesses of the wicked king's followers. there was a great massacre. taken at a disadvantage, and scattered at the moment of attack, the monk's ships were overpowered in detail. so great was the fury of the english crews that it overcame even the love of ransom which commonly introduced some measure of mercy into mediæval battles. eustace himself, who, we are told, offered a great price for his life, was beheaded by one blow of the sword by richard, king john's bastard son. the whole fleet on which louis and the barons had relied to save them from destruction, was annihilated. the neck of the opposition to the young king's government was effectually broken. before the end of the year louis had returned to france, and the barons had made their submission. the trial stroke of the english navy was a master-stroke. no more admirably planned, no more timely, no more fruitful battle has been fought by englishmen on water. it settled for ever the question how best this country is to be defended. in after times, during the armada year and later, there have been found men to talk of trusting to land defences; but the sagacity of englishmen has taught them to rely on the navy first, and that protection has never wholly failed us in six hundred and eighty years. the battle is curiously similar to the long list of conflicts with the french which were to follow it. the enemy is found carrying out a scheme of attack on our territory, and so intent on his ultimate object that he neglects to attack our ships first. hubert de burgh, acting exactly as hawke, rodney, hood, or nelson would have done, manoeuvres for the "weather-gage," the position to windward, falls upon the frenchman on his way, and wrecks his carefully laid scheme at a blow. the navy was now established in all essentials as it was to remain till the accession of the tudor dynasty, at the close of the fifteenth century. the ship was indeed in process of development throughout all these ages. the stages of this growth are obscure, and belong rather to the domain of the archæologist than to that of the historian. we still possess an example of the original type in the viking ship which was dug up from the burial mound at gókkstad in norway. she is a vessel of some size, nearly a hundred feet long, sharp at both ends, high in the bow and stern. her breadth is about a third of her length, and she is low in the waist. the bottom is flat, as was natural in a vessel designed to be hauled up on the beach, and to take the ground without damage on a receding tide. her hull is clinker-built, that is to say, with the planks overlapping one another, and not put edge to edge, as in the carvel-built ships of later times. one mast, shipped exactly in the middle, and carrying one great square sail, constituted all her rigging. there was no deck, though there may have been small covered spaces at the bow and stern. she was steered by an oar fixed on the right or starboard (_i.e._ steering) side, a little before the sternpost. in battle the mast and sail were lowered, and the vessel propelled by oars, of which the gokkstad ship rowed sixteen on each side. by the thirteenth century this type had been already developed. the maritime states of the mediterranean and the basque ports of spain had begun to build more elaborately constructed galleys and much heavier vessels. but, to judge by the illuminations in the manuscript of matthew paris, the ships of hubert de burgh did not differ in any essential particular of construction from those of saint olaf or canute. indeed, as late as the reign of edward iii., and later, our ships were small in comparison with the basque. still there was a steady though slow advance in mechanical skill. decks were introduced, and the vessels were built higher. fore and after castles began to be erected. the rudder gradually displaced the steering oar. two masts, and finally three, replaced the one of the early ships. the introduction of cannon, which dates from the fourteenth century, compelled changes in form. in order to support the weight of the guns, and the shock of firing them, it was necessary to build ships higher and stronger. the height could have been obtained by merely continuing the curve of the bottom farther; but if this had been done, the vessel would have been weak, and the leverage of the weight of the guns would have tended to tear her to pieces. to obviate this risk, the sides were curved in above the water-line in what was called "a tumble home." the guns were at first fired over the top of the bulwarks. a french builder, descharges of brest, has the credit of first constructing a ship with portholes through which the cannon could be pointed. in one respect the mediæval ship was curiously like the modern war vessel. she carried a crow's nest on her masts, a military top, in fact, from which archers and crossbowmen could fire, or stones be thrown, on to an enemy's deck. it must not be supposed that these improvements were all strictly successive. old and new types would be found existing side by side. the rudder and the steering oar, for instance, are found in use together, but gradually the better drove the less good out of use. the long low galleys of the mediterranean, or at least craft of that description, are heard of as employed in the middle ages, but our seas are not friendly to that class of vessel. it appears, from the account of the battle with eustace the monk, that the practice of lowering masts and sails on going into action had fallen into disuse by the thirteenth century. this implies at least a greater weight of spars and solidity of rigging than had obtained earlier. it will be easily understood that then, as at all times, there were wide differences in the sizes of ships. they ranged from mere row-boats to the vessel of or tons, known as "cog," or by other names of which we only dimly appreciate the significance. the king of england drew his fleets from three sources. to begin with, he had his own ships, which were his personal property, like his horses or the suits of armour he supplied to his own immediate following. these he used in war, or hired to the merchants in peace, according to circumstances. the purely administrative and financial management of these vessels was entrusted to some member of his household. in earlier ages it fell to one of the "king's clerks," the permanent civil servants of the time, who, when all learning was the province of the church, were naturally ecclesiastics, and for whom the king provided by securing their nomination to benefices. william of wrotham, archdeacon of taunton, was "keeper of the king's ships, galleys, and seaports" to king john. there is a mention, though not continuous record, of other "clerks" who had charge of the king's ships till the reign of henry viii. the number of these ships would vary according to the interest the king took in them, the need he had for them, and his merits as a husband of his money. in the troubled times of the lancastrian line the king's ships were few, but it does not seem that at any period he was wholly without some of his own. the second source from which the fleets were recruited was the trading craft of london and the outports. the kings of england claimed, and exercised from the beginning, the right of impressing all ships for the defence of the realm. every port was assessed according to its supposed resources in so many vessels properly found. they were, however, maintained by the king on service. there was a certain difference in the method of manning these two classes. in the king's own ships all alike were his servants. when a merchant ship was impressed, her crew would, when possible, be taken with her. the king then put an officer of his own, with a body of soldiers, into her. in both there was a distinction between the military officer whose business it was to fight, and the shipman whose business it was to sail. thus arose that distinction between the captain and the master of an english man-of-war, which lasted far into this century. the practice was universal as late as the seventeenth century. every spanish ship had two captains--the "capitan de guerra" (of war) and the "capitan de mar" (sea captain). but whereas in the spanish ships the two officers were co-ordinate, with us there was no question that the master was subordinate to the captain. the kings of england, from the conqueror downwards, have had no love for divided authority. the third source from which the king drew his ships was the most picturesque of all. the towns, with their dependent townships, hastings, winchelsea, rye, romney, hythe, dover, and sandwich, forming the ancient corporation of the cinque ports, were bound by the terms of their charters to supply the king in any one year with ships, men, and boys for fifteen days at their own charges, and after that for as long as he chose to retain them at his own expense. for this they were repaid by privileges and honours. every ancient institution is respectable, and the cinque ports men won such immortal honour by the defeat of eustace the monk, that we are naturally tempted to treat them tenderly. yet it may be doubted whether they have not enjoyed an historical reputation much in excess of their merits. it is the defect of every privileged body that it is apt to be jealous. the cinque ports men were no exception to the rule. many instances might be quoted of their savage feuds with rival towns, notably with yarmouth. under so strong a king as edward i. and in the midst of an expedition to flanders they fell upon and destroyed a number of yarmouth vessels. under weak kings complaints of their piracies and excesses on the coast are incessant. although they no doubt supplied some kings with stout shipmen and useful vessels, it may be doubted whether they did not on the whole do as much in the way of fighting and plundering their own countrymen as against the national enemy. in the later middle ages the ports had already begun to silt up. they sank into insignificance, and in their last stage were chiefly known as nests of smugglers and pirates. the crews of war vessels were divided into mariners and soldiers in unequal proportions. there were always more of the second than of the first. thirty seamen were considered the full complement even of a large vessel; and when it is remembered that two hundred or two hundred and fifty tons was the size of a "great ship," and that the rigging was simple, the number will appear amply sufficient. it must always, too, be kept in mind that, though the relative number of sailors and soldiers in ships has varied, this distinction between the two elements constituting the crews of fighting craft has prevailed to our own time. no man-of-war was ever manned entirely by seamen, nor was it necessary that she should be. the number of men required to fight or to do work only on the decks, or between the decks, was at all times much in excess of what was needed for the purpose of sailing the ship. the steersmen and mariners of the middle ages, and the prime seamen of the eighteenth century, were highly trained men, whom it would have been folly to employ on such work as could be sufficiently well done by less skilful hands. from the earliest time of which there is any record, the great and arbitrary power of impressment was used to find crews for the king's ships. in king john ordered the seamen of wales to cease making trading voyages, and to repair to ilfracombe for the purpose of transporting soldiers to ireland. he bade them "know for certain that if you act contrary to this, we will cause you and the masters of your vessels to be hanged, and all your goods to be seized for our use." in later times this would have been called a "hot press." the forms used might vary, and the penalties grow more humane, but the king's ships continued to be supplied with crews, down to the end of the war with napoleon, after exactly the fashion in which king john provided for the transport of his soldiers to ireland in . all the elements of the crews of later times are found in the ships of the middle ages. the mariners and "grometes" are the able seamen and ordinary seamen. there were boys then also. the archers were the predecessors of the marines, and of those drafts from the line regiments which were frequently used to make up the complement of men-of-war. the modern officers, too, have their representatives in the vessels of the plantagenet kings. the _rector_, afterwards called in official latin _magister_, is the master, the constable is the ancestor of the gunner, there was a carpenter, a "clerk," who was renamed the purser later on, and the boatswain. the nature of the work to be done would dictate the formation of these different offices. so soon as regular ships' companies began to be formed, it would be found indispensable to have someone to conduct the navigation--the master; someone to supervise the arms--the constable; someone to serve out the stores--the clerk. as ships' companies grew larger and ships more complicated, it would be necessary to increase the number of officers, and little by little the staff of a modern warship was formed. the title of captain appears at first to have been given to an officer who held what we should call flag rank. in the fifteenth century it began to be applied to the commander of a single ship. he was primarily a military officer, who might or might not be a seaman, but who in either case had a master under his command whose function it was to navigate the ship. the growth of what came afterwards to be called flag rank may easily be traced. at first the king appointed some knight or noble to command his sea forces, and the soldiers in his ships, for some definite service. then we hear of officers commanding in a given district for a specified time. these were first known as "captains and governors," justices or constables. in the early years of the fourteenth century the title of "admiral" began to come into use. captain and admiral is the rank of the officer who commands the north and the western fleets. the first included the coast and sea from dover to berwick; the second, from dover to the duchy of cornwall inclusive. there was occasionally a third officer, who commanded in the isle of man and the irish sea. of him we hear little. his chief duty was to assist in the work of subduing the scots, and he was once at least chosen from among those chiefs of the isles and the western highlands who were the worst enemies of the king of the scots in the lowlands. these captains and admirals were at first simple knights. some of them were seamen of the cinque ports. the alards, a family of winchelsea, produced more than one holder of the post. the first admiral for all the seas was sir john beauchamp, k.g.; he was appointed by edward iii. in , for a year. but it was not till later that it became the rule to have one admiral superior to all the others. in the fourteenth century a considerable change began to appear in the character, though not in formal rank or power, of these officers. in it was found necessary to appoint the earl of arundel to command the western fleet, "for no one can chastise or rule them unless he be a great man," to quote the candid confession of the king's council. the royal authority, in fact, was growing weaker. it fell to its lowest depths in the later times of the lancastrian line. the inevitable consequence was, that the barons seized upon the command of the ships, and used them for their own purposes. warwick the king-maker, who among his many other offices held that of captain of calais and admiral, was practically master of the whole naval forces of the country. the office of lord high admiral, which dates from the lancastrian dynasty, was, in fact, a result of the aggression of the baronage. the king's authority being no longer sure of obedience, it was necessary to call in the power of the nobles, with the inevitable result. those who knew that they were indispensable made their own terms. by the end of the middle ages the office of lord high admiral had become permanent. the old captains and admirals of the northern and western fleets had disappeared, or were represented by subordinate officials, who received their commission from the lord high admiral. when the great royalist reaction of the later fifteenth century had restored the authority of the crown, the office survived. on the military side of his office the lord high admiral was the king's lieutenant for the fleet, exercising immense delegated powers in complete subjection to the crown. but during the anarchy of the wars of the roses, such a man as warwick, who garrisoned calais with his own followers, and had the command of the ships, of which many were his own property, was practically master of the channel, and rendered as much obedience to the king--or as little--as he pleased. while the king of england possessed dominions on the continent, he drew part of his naval forces from them. there is occasional mention of the king's ships and galleys of aquitaine. the great reputation of the italian seamen of the middle ages led to their employment now and then, and one, nicholas ususmaris of genoa, was for a time in the service of edward iii., though only to command the ships belonging to aquitaine. the mediterranean seamen were employed very largely by the king of france, who was driven to use them by the want of skilful men among his own subjects. in the middle ages the english king appears only to have had recourse to them when he wished to make use of that typical mediterranean craft, the galley. under henry viii. italians were brought in largely to serve both as seamen and shipbuilders, but by that time a larger class of vessel and a more extensive art of seamanship had begun to prevail. the galley, as has been already said, has never been found to answer in the channel, and its brief appearances there have been of little note. for the classes of vessels he mainly used, that is, ships which might take to the oar as a subsidiary resource, but relied chiefly on the sail, the king could find men in abundance among his own subjects. the most brief sketch of our navy in the middle ages would be incomplete without some mention of the famous claim to the sovereignty of the seas. that the king of england did make this haughty profession of superiority is within the knowledge of everybody, and it was advanced, in form at least, till late in the reign of george iii. attempts have been made to carry it back to the reign of king john, and have been supported by the inveterate mediæval practice of forging documents to bolster up supposed rights. but the so-called ordinance of king john, issued at hastings in , has been long given up. it was unquestionably a mere forgery, concocted at a later time to give the authority of antiquity to a more recent pretension. yet about a hundred years later we find the sovereignty of edward ii. over the seas fully recognised by the flemish towns. edward iii. asserted his right to be sovereign of the four seas of britain without qualification. it must be remembered that this claim, which later times found intolerably arrogant, had in the middle ages the justification that it was supported by effective power. not only was the king of england by far the most powerful sovereign on the seas in the west, but the possession of calais gave him the command of the straits of dover on both sides. at a time when trade was conducted by coasting voyages, this enabled him to throttle the maritime commerce of the south with the north at will. the venetian and basque ships which came up to antwerp in the early summer and went south again before autumn, were not only liable to attack by english vessels coming out of dover or calais, but they had constant need to use the roadsteads of these ports. it was consistent with all the ideas and practice of the middle ages that this power to injure should have been held to imply a right to assert superiority, and compel the recognition of it. sir harris nicolas states that the first admission of this right on the part of foreigners is found in , when certain flemish envoys appealed to edward ii. to put a stop to piracies committed on their vessels by english evil-doers, praying him "of his lordship and royal power to cause right to be done, and punishment awarded, as he is lord of the sea, and the robbery was committed on the sea within his power, as is above said." it may be pointed out that the offences complained of were committed upon the english coast, and that an astute diplomatist of a later date might have argued that this admission did not amount to a recognition of english sovereignty over the whole north sea. no serious resistance was, however, made to this claim till the reign of louis xiv., which we may account for by the fact that nobody was strong enough to resist. the venetian and basque traders submitted to the claim much as an african caravan might recognise the right of a chief to extort backsheesh. the kings of france were too weak and too much occupied elsewhere to fight on this point of honour. the flemings were generally our allies, and the northern powers were not concerned. our pretension was the more easily borne because the king of england did not insist upon levying dues on all who passed through the four seas, but only on a salute as a formal recognition of superiority. this outward sign of deference, the lowering of sails, and in later times the firing of guns, was insisted upon punctiliously till far into the seventeenth century, and there are isolated cases in which it was extorted even in the eighteenth. the space of sea over which the sovereignty of england was held to extend was counted to stretch from finisterre to the coast of norway. when the words "sovereignty of the sea" are used as meaning the king's effective superiority to any force which could be brought against him, there can be no question as to its reality. throughout the middle ages, a king of england who was master of his own dominions was rarely hampered by the naval force of any enemy. when he marched to subdue his kingdom of scotland, his fleets kept pace with his army as it advanced through the lothians. on the rare occasions on which he visited his lordship of ireland, there was nobody to say him nay. he passed and repassed at will to and from his kingdom of france. pirates, scotch, flemish, and scandinavian, might infest the coast. now and then an expedition met with disaster. french and spanish adventurers sometimes harried the coast, and burned small towns. but these failures of our power were comparatively rare. they occurred only when the king was weak, and the country exhausted or disturbed. the rule was, that when the monarchy exerted its strength it could sweep the seas. if the king was careless, parliament was at hand to exhort him to action. englishmen were keenly alive to the importance of "guarding the narrow seas round about." nor were our ancestors ever in doubt as to how best to employ their navy. even in the bad times of edward ii., when wisdom did not preside in the council, a threat of invasion from france was met by the preparation of a fleet which was to attack, so that the enemy might first feel the evil. centuries of experience have taught no better way of using the sea power. a detailed account of the naval enterprises of the middle ages would go altogether beyond the scale of this work. nor is the story one which can be told without monotony. in spite of the many improvements in the construction of ships and the advance of seamanship, the means of conducting a regular naval campaign were wanting. vessels were still unable to keep the sea during long periods of cruising and blockade. they were not strong enough to stand the strain, nor could they carry the water and provisions required for the large fighting crews crowded into vessels ranging from fifty to three hundred tons. it followed from this double disability that warfare on sea was conducted by expeditions of brief duration. a fleet was collected, and sailed to attack the enemy's ships or harry his coast. when successful, it gathered all the plunder it could find, and returned home to be laid up for repair, while its crews were disbanded. thus it not infrequently happened that, immediately after a striking victory, a raiding expedition of the enemy was able to pounce on some part of our coast, and retaliate by murder and ravage for what he had just suffered at home. we had a prevailing superiority, due to the greater number and efficiency of english seamen, and the greater average faculty of the english kings; but we must not look for examples of coherent, orderly war conducted through months, or even years, of effort by permanent forces. a few examples must suffice to illustrate the general character of these centuries of conflict. no better instance of the nature of mediæval sea warfare can be found than the story of the desperate feud between the english and norman fishermen, in the reign of edward i. in a dispute arose in some port of normandy or gascony--for the authorities differ--between the french and english sailors. the point at issue, it is said, was which was entitled to drink first. it came rapidly from words to blows, and a man was killed. the authorities again differ as to whether he was french or english. all agree that the english sailors were chased back to their ships by a mob. their ship put to sea, pursued by french vessels, and escaped. but the passions of the norman seamen being now thoroughly aroused, they were minded to pursue the feud. meeting six english merchant ships, they fell upon them and captured two. they hanged the crews at the yardarm, together with some dogs by way of greater insult. then they paraded the channel, plundering all they met, making "no distinction between an englishman and a dog." in the meantime, the four ships which had escaped took refuge in the cinque ports. here they promptly found allies, and a foray was rapidly arranged to revenge the outrage. a squadron of english ships, mainly drawn from the cinque ports, started in pursuit of the french. finding that the enemy had returned to port, the english adventurers entered the seine, captured six vessels after a sharp burst of fighting, and carried them off, having previously despatched their crews. hereupon followed raid and counter raid, with their inevitable accompaniment of "great slaughter on both sides, shipwreck and rapine--both thirsting for blood." at last by common consent it was agreed to set a day and fight it out. the feud had apparently extended to all the seamen who used the channel. not only did other frenchmen join the normans, but flemings and genoese also. the dutch and the irish, the men, that is, of the partly english partly norse towns of the coast, allied themselves with us. on the appointed day, the th april or may,--for once more the authorities do not agree,--the fleets met in mid-channel, and after a savage battle the french and their allies were overcome with great carnage. at this point, but not till now, the kings of england and of the french took up the quarrel of their subjects, and the feud between the fishermen and seamen grew into a national war. as, however, it possessed no naval features of interest, we need not pursue further the consequences of this explosion of the violence and pugnacity of the mediæval seamen. it must always be remembered that the conditions which made this private war possible endured throughout the middle ages. in the absence of strong organised fleets to patrol the sea, and when no police had yet been formed in any state capable of depriving the sea robber of a safe market for his booty, every sailor not only had to fear the pirate, but he generally was prepared, upon a favourable opportunity presenting itself, to become one. the men of the cinque ports, of yarmouth, or of poole, to say nothing of the fact that they were prompt to pillage one another for want of better, were ever ready to applaud their townsman who brought in a french or basque prize. the norman or basque, again, would have been surprised indeed if he had been asked to blame the fellow-countryman who came home with english booty. in fact, the sea everywhere was much in the condition of the scotch border. there might be truce between the kings, but the borderers never ceased in their raids on one another, or on the rival clans of their own side. hence it was that merchant ships sailed in large fleets for mutual protection, and that the complaints of rulers that their subjects had been pillaged by the sailors of another prince were incessant. nor were the kings by any means backward in encouraging their vassals by their example. of the two sea fights with which the chivalrous memory of edward iii. is associated, sluys, and the battle off winchelsea, known as "les espagnols sur mer," the second was an incident in this piratical warfare. king edward did not indeed make an unprovoked attack on the spaniards for mere purposes of plunder, but he retaliated for one piece of piracy by another. his act was not one of especial violence for his time, yet it would not have been possible except in an age when the relations of seafaring nations were habitually lawless, and when an act of robbery by one was left unpunished, except when it provoked retaliation in kind by the other. the battle of sluys was a great regular engagement fought in pursuit of a national war. edward iii. had openly assumed the title of king of france in january , and was preparing to assert his right by conquest. philippe de valois made ready to defend his throne, and took the measure dictated by sound sense. he collected a great fleet, composed in part of ships belonging to his subjects, in part of vessels hired from the genoese. but the wisdom of the king of the french stopped at this preliminary stage. although it appears that his fleet was collected as early as march, when king edward had only forty ships in the orwell, the great french armament lay idle in the little flemish river eede, at the anchorage of sluys. the calculation perhaps was that its mere presence would suffice to delay the english king from attempting to cross. king edward was not to be frightened. in spite of the opposition of his chancellor and the backwardness of some of his captains, he decided to attack. vigorous use was made of the time allowed him by the sloth of the enemy. ships were called in from the north, and about the middle of june the king stood over to blankenberg on the coast of flanders. his fleet was somewhat stronger than the french. he puts the force opposed to him at a hundred and ninety vessels, while his own, including small craft, was over two hundred. but the french acted as if it had been their intention to deprive themselves of the advantage of their numbers. they remained in the river, with their ships lashed side by side to one another in three divisions. at a time when all battles were finally decided by hand-to-hand fighting, this was a not uncommon device with fleets which decided, or were compelled, to accept the attack. nor was it altogether unreasonable, for it seemed to possess this advantage, that it forced the assailant to come on bow to bow, where his beaks would act with least effect, and where his men must board along a narrow passage; while the defender had the advantage of being able to make a barrier across the fore part of his vessel with his yard and his oars. the fatal defect of the formation was that an enemy who could fall on one end of the line could roll it up. as the french were drawn up along the bank of an estuary, and the english fleet was coming in from the sea, there was nothing to force king edward to make a front attack. this fatal weakness of the position is said to have been noted by barbavera, the veteran admiral of the genoese. he is credited with an effort to induce king philip's officers, kiriet and bahuchet, to stand out to sea so soon as the english appeared on the coast, but they showed the timidity which has commonly been noted in the sea fighting of the french, and preferred to wait passively for the attack. as usual, the victory fell to the side which could and would fall on. king edward had landed knights, who, riding over the sandhills, had taken a leisurely view of the french fleet at anchor. the weakness of their position must have been patent even to a less skilful captain than the victor of creçy, and he decided to attack without delay. the battle was fought on the th of june. in the early morning the tide was at ebb, and an advance up the river was impossible. the english ships stood out to sea on the starboard tack till they were well opposite the entrance to the river. then, as the tide turned, they swept in with it, and fell on the nearest division of the french. the destruction which followed bears an interesting resemblance to the battle of the nile. on that occasion an english fleet coming in from the sea attacked the french lying passively at anchor, and overwhelmed them in detail. the difference was, that the nile was decided by broadsides, and the great fight at sluys by sword-stroke and the edge of the axe. ship after ship was carried by boarding and its crew slaughtered, for all sea fights were, as froissart noted, "felon," merciless and without quarter. the french had put the _great christopher_, a ship of king edward's own, of which they had formerly made prize, at the end of their line. she fell first, and her sister ships shared her fate. in the rear of the french, that is, at the end farthest from the sea, some ships did indeed escape. they were commanded by barbavera. it is probable that the english had not reached them when the tide turned, and the expert genoese mercenary took the opportunity to slip to sea, leaving the van and centre to be crushed. in this also there is a curious similarity to the battle of the nile, when villeneuve fled with the rear ships. sluys was an incredibly murderous battle. upwards of thirty thousand men are said to have perished in the french fleet. it entirely crushed the naval forces of the valois king, and from that time forward for years edward crossed the channel with as little molestation from an enemy as he would have met on the thames at oxford. the english loss was comparatively slight, but it is said to have included four of the ladies whom the king was taking with him to join the queen at ghent. the sea fight which took place ten years later is mainly memorable as a picturesque example of the lawlessness of the times. characteristically enough, we owe our best account of it to froissart, and it was just such a battle as he loved--a fine example of high-born daring, love of adventure, and, it is to be added, of total absence of scruple. to understand this battle, it is necessary to remember that the sea-borne commerce between the north and south of europe was conducted in fleets which came up in spring from the south, and, after unloading and reloading at the great marts of flanders, returned towards the end of summer. for the reasons already stated, they were subject to plunder on the way, and they were apt to retaliate. the king had cause of complaint against the spanish, that is to say, the basque traders, who are known to have plundered ten english ships coming from france. so, without wasting time in diplomacy, which would indeed have brought him little save delays and counter claims, he resolved to do himself justice. a fleet was collected at winchelsea, and there the king, accompanied by some of his most famous knights, and by his still youthful sons, the black prince and john of gaunt, lay in wait for the traders who must pass on their way home. the basques were warned of what was preparing for them, but, confident in the size of their ships and their own courage, they were resolved to force a passage. they hired at antwerp one of those gangs of fighting men who were then to be found in every marketplace in europe, ready to serve any master who would pay, and any cause which promised booty. then they sailed, well provided with weapons, and ready for the fray. king edward had taken up his quarters in an abbey near winchelsea, with his queen and the ladies of his household. by day he visited his ships. by night there was feasting and dancing. when he knew that the spaniards must be at hand, he went on board his flagship to be ready for them. it appears that no cruisers were stationed on the offing, and that the english fleet lay at anchor in the expectation that the spaniards would seek them. if the southern traders had not been so unduly confident in their own strength, they might have passed in safety by keeping well out at sea. but, relying on the size of their vessels, and on "all kinds of artillery wonderful to think of," with which they were provided, they sought for battle, and therefore steered well in with the coast. on the afternoon of the day of the fight, the th august , the king was sitting on the deck of his vessel, the cog =thomas=, wearing a black velvet overcoat over his armour and a black felt hat "which became him well." to pass the time, sir john chandos was singing the german dances he had learned on a visit to that country, and the minstrels played. while the knights and squires were amusing themselves with the gaiety of men who lived mainly for battle, the look-out in the top hailed the deck with "i see one, two, three, four--i see so many, so help me god, i cannot count them." then the king called for his helmet, and for wine. his knights drank to the king, and to one another, and went to their stations. the fleet stood to sea. its movements must have been seen by queen philippa, who remained in the abbey to pray for her husband and her two sons. the young john of gaunt, then earl of richmond, and afterwards duke of lancaster, refused to leave his brother, the prince of wales. he was a boy of only ten, but king edward and the black prince were the last men in the world to balk his very proper desire to be in a battle. the spaniards came sweeping along from east to west with a good breeze. they were fewer in number than the english, but heavier ships. "it was passing beautiful to see, or to think of," says froissart, who loved the pomp and circumstance of war. their tops were glittering with armed men, and "their streamers bearing their coats of arms, and marked with their bearings, danced and quivered and lept in the wind." coming out from the anchorage of winchelsea, king edward's ships struck on the spaniards, who were advancing in a line, at an angle. his own vessel was steered into one of the biggest of the enemy. the two met with such a crash that "it was as if a tempest had suddenly burst upon them." they recoiled from the shock, and then crashed together again. their spars became entangled, and one of the spaniard's tops was broken off. all in it were hurled into the water and drowned. if the king's ship had not been stout, she would have been broken to pieces against the bulk of her opponent. as it was, she had enough. her seams gaped, and the water rushed in. the spaniard, being the less injured of the two, gathered way and stood on. king edward ordered his men to lay her aboard again, but was answered, "no, sir, you cannot have this one, but you shall have another." it would, as his shipmen knew, but probably had not the time to explain, have been impossible to overtake the enemy with a vessel already in danger of sinking. the only chance was to run into one of those coming up behind and carry her by boarding. we may presume that the shipmen did their best to pick a smaller one. it was done, and only just in time, for the king's ship sank almost immediately after he and his crew had forced their way on to the spaniard's deck. king edward's adventure was an example of what happened all along the line. the prince of wales was in great peril beside a tall spaniard, for his ship too began to sink, and he could not scale the high sides of the enemy. from this pass he was rescued by his cousin henry, earl of derby. the two got possession of the spaniard. then the prince's vessel sank, so that "he and his knights could more perfectly consider the danger in which they had just been." the most extreme danger was run by robert of namur, a flemish noble, and a partisan of king edward's, who in after times was the patron of froissart, and probably his main authority for the battle. the king had given him the command of the =salle du roi=, the vessel which carried those members of his household who could not find quarters with himself. robert of namur was grappled by a big enemy, who began to drag him along. his crew shouted, "rescue for the =salle du roi=!" but to no purpose, for it was now getting dark, "and they were not heard, and if they had been heard, they would not have been rescued." the fleming was saved by the desperate valour of his squire, hanekin, who forced his way into the spaniard and cut her halyards. then robert of namur boarded, and the spaniards "were all slain and thrown into the sea." it was a desperate battle, for the english fought most valiantly, and the spaniards "gave them plenty to do." the english archers had a great share in the victory. the enemy's crossbowmen, and others who were appointed to hurl bars of metal or heavy stones over the bulwarks of the tops and sides, were compelled to expose themselves to take aim, and were shot through the head or neck by the clothyard shafts, while thus uncovered. seventeen spaniards were taken in all. against this we had to set off the loss of several of our smaller vessels and of many men. the booty must have been considerable. there was no pursuit, partly because the victors were eager to rifle the prizes, but partly also, no doubt, because they had suffered much rough usage. the king returned to winchelsea abbey to celebrate his victory by festivities. the battle with the spaniards off winchelsea marks the culmination of king edward's naval power. in the gloomy closing years of his reign all these glories hastened to decay. his navy, drawn from so many different sources, and composed at all times largely of hired or impressed vessels, was peculiarly liable to suffer from the general disorganisation of his government when the long war with france had begun to exhaust his resources, and his faculties were failing. twenty years after his brilliant sea fight, he had to listen to the bitter complaints of the commons, who told him boldly, and with too much truth, that the coast was unprotected, and trade ruined. so far had the strength of the "sovereign of the seas" sunk, that there was actual fear of invasion from france, while raids carried out by french and spanish adventurers on the ports of the channel were numerous. scotch "pirates," in alliance with flemings, frenchmen, and basques, harried the north and east. the parliament of insisted angrily on the abuses by which the naval strength of the country was being destroyed. there is much intrinsic probability in their complaints. when it is remembered that the fleets were mainly formed by impressing merchant ships, it is easy to understand how the misconduct or want of judgment of subordinate agents under a weak government might give ample justification for such complaints as these. "first, that arrests of shipping were often made long before vessels were wanted, during which interval the owners were at the expense of keeping the ships and crews, without making any profit, by which many of them became so impoverished as to be obliged to quit their business, and their ships were ruined. secondly, that the merchants who supported the navy had been so impeded in their voyages and affairs by divers ordinances, that they had no employment for ships; that great part of the mariners had consequently abandoned their profession, and gained their livelihood in some other way; and that their ships were hauled up on the shore to rot. thirdly, that, as soon as the masters of the king's ships were ordered on any voyage, they impressed the masters and ablest part of the men of other ships, and those vessels being left without persons to manage them, many of them perished, and their owners were ruined." part of this petition against grievances is concerned with the general policy of the king in matters of trade, as expressed in his "divers ordinances." but the greater part of it is directed against abuses which were hardly to be escaped at a time when navies were formed by impressing merchant ships. corrupt or even only insolent and overbearing officers would abuse the power of impressment. where those evil motives were not at work, there was still an all but irresistible temptation to "arrest" ships long before they were needed, since, if they were allowed to go on trading voyages, they would not be forthcoming later on. the king's officers were to be excused if they preferred to err on the safe side; but to the trader it was a grievous oppression, for he was deprived of the means of earning profits, while remaining liable to be taxed in order to provide the king with a revenue for the support of the war. in later ages the impossibility of combining the qualities of money-earning merchant ships and of fighting ships, which should be always available for war, had much to do with the formation of regular military fleets. in the seventeenth century the state took, first, to hiring vessels for long periods, and manning them itself; then, as the need of a special class of vessel grew with the development of artillery, to building for itself. in the middle ages no state was yet rich enough to maintain for long together a great and costly naval force. thus it was necessary to rely on impressed vessels, which could only temporarily be withdrawn from commerce. fleets formed in such a way bore an inevitable resemblance to armies composed of farmers, townsmen, or mountain clans collected for a single foray or battle, and always liable to dissolution on the approach of harvest, or even under the influence of the occasional soldier's not unnatural desire to put his booty in a safe place. in the great civil war of the seventeenth century, the parliament discovered that the london trainbands, though capable of good marching and hard fighting, as they proved during the relief of gloucester and at the battle of newbury, soon grew eager to be back to their shops, and mutinous if they were kept out for what seemed to them an undue period. so it must always be with a citizen force. since the mediæval navy was largely of that description, it suffered from recurrent lapses of strength, and was peculiarly liable to total collapse when the country was overwrought by the strain of long war. edward's reign closed in failure and defeat. the last blow was given to his power in the south of france, when a fleet sent to the relief of rochelle, under the command of john hastings, earl of pembroke, was crushed by a superior force of spanish vessels under ambrosio bocanegra, the admiral of castile, in . the troubled reign of richard ii. saw no improvement. at one period in his minority, a scotch pirate named mercer harried the north-west unchecked, till he was defeated by the enterprise of a citizen of london, john philipot. it is typical of the time, that philipot was rebuked by some of the lords of the council, with foolish insolence, for taking on himself to fight without their consent. a wealthy and important citizen of london, of philipot's spirit, was not a man to stand bullying tamely. he answered that he had fought only to make good their failure to do their duty, and to that they had very naturally "not a word to answer." even the astute and capable henry iv. was for long unable to bring about visible improvement. amid the embarrassments of the first years of his reign, he had recourse to a very curious experiment. in order to deal with what may be called the ordinary work of the navy, the pursuit of pirates, and the repulse of mere raids on the coast, he entered into a contract with the citizens of london. they were to provide a force of ships and men, to be commanded by their own admirals, and were to be paid certain dues, and keep all their prizes. they did not undertake to deal with a great hostile fleet, but only to discharge the police duties. after a good deal of negotiation, the experiment was actually tried from may to september . the merchants appointed two admirals, richard clytherow for the south and west, and nicholas blackburn for the north, who were endowed with large powers of impressment. this curious attempt to discharge the duty of the state by contract was not satisfactory, and the arrangement was not renewed. it is chiefly worth mentioning as showing to what shifts the crown was driven in its times of weakness. in an introduction which aims only at giving an outline account of the mediæval navy, further details of warlike operations, which were always of the same general character, are unnecessary. there was a revival of efficiency with henry v., not, however, marked by any single events of the brilliancy of the battle of sluys, or "les espagnols sur mer." then came another period of collapse in the dreary reign of henry vi. with the close of the fifteenth century the mediæval period in the history came to an end. the establishment of the tudor dynasty has been described as marking the beginning of the new monarchy. this is perhaps a somewhat arbitrary description, but it is certainly the case that the anarchy of the wars of the roses had converted englishmen, or had brought them back, to a high conception of the need of a strong royal authority as the one effectual security for the safety of the subject against disorder. the administration was centralised in the king's hand. increase of wealth in the nation supplied him with a larger revenue, and the formation of a royal navy in the modern sense became at last possible. before leaving the mediæval navy, the picture may be completed by one example of that brutal violence which has been mentioned as a feature of the sea life of the time. i have spoken of the feuds between the different towns, and of complaints of excesses committed on the coast by armed forces appointed to protect them. one concrete example is better than any amount of general statement. here is an instance of sheer devilry taken from the unhappy years of the minority of richard ii., when the state was weak, and englishmen had been brutalised by the savage wars of france. in sir john arundel was appointed to the command of a force of archers and men-at-arms, which was to go to the help of the duke of brittany. it was to sail from southampton. as the weather was unfavourable, there was some delay in starting, and arundel quartered his soldiers in a nunnery. the house, according to a common practice of the time, contained, in addition to the nuns, many married women whose husbands were absent, widows, and unmarried girls, who were sent there for safety and education. arundel's soldiers violated these women, and pillaged the chapel. disregarding all complaints, he not only went to sea without punishing the offenders, but allowed them to bring their booty and several of the women with them. there were also, it appears, prostitutes in the ships. the ecclesiastical authorities fell back on the only revenge then within their power. they formally cursed arundel and his thieves with bell, book, and candle as the ships sailed away. to men accustomed to the licence of the french wars, this doubtless appeared a very impotent form of retaliation. but they soon had occasion to change their minds. a violent storm burst upon them, apparently, since it swept them out of the channel, from the east or north-east. to lighten the ships, these savages threw overboard all the women they had carried to sea. the danger might have been avoided if arundel had listened to the advice of his sailing-master, john rust, a sailor of the now very much decayed little town of blakeney in norfolk, who warned him that a gale was coming on. but arundel, though a good soldier, as he showed when defending southampton in , was neither a seaman himself, nor sufficiently a man of sense to listen to those who were. having first incurred disaster by his obstinacy, arundel sealed his own fate by persisting in again overriding the opinion of rust. he had been driven to within sight of the coast of ireland, and, in his frantic desire to escape the misery of his position on shipboard, insisted that an attempt should be made to land. it was in vain that the sailors pointed out to him that it was far safer to keep at sea. in an explosion of sheer fury, largely excited, we may presume, by fear, arundel killed some of them. then rust and the others made the hopeless attempt to land the madman whom they had the misfortune to be compelled to obey. seeing a small island near the coast, the sailing-master attempted to get under its lee, but found the water too broken. then, as a last resource, he tried to beach the ship, but she struck on the rocks, and went to pieces. arundel, to whom every opportunity seems to have been given by fate to display his folly, was one of those who contrived to reach the shore. he might have escaped if he had not stood within reach of the waves, shaking the water out of his clothes. rust, who had also come through alive, seeing his peril, ran forward to drag him back, and both were beaten down and dragged under by the next wave. an uncertain number of other vessels, with many knights and men-at-arms, perished in the same disaster. this may stand as sufficient example of what was possible when the brutality of the middle ages coincided with the licence of the sea. we may hope that the details of the story were heightened in the telling, but there is no reasonable ground to doubt its substantial truth, and the mere fact that such a tale could be told shows what was believed to be possible. chapter i the navy of the tudors till the accession of elizabeth authorities.--much information concerning the navy during the earlier tudor period will be found in charnock's _naval architecture_, vol. ii. cap. and ; but the chief authority now is mr. oppenheim's recently published _administration of the navy_, - . this may be supported by numerous passages in the calendar of state papers for the reign of henry viii., prepared by mr. brewer. the details of the fighting in conquet bay are given in echyngham's letters to wolsey in the calendar. the collection called "state papers," edited by mr. haines, - , contains lisle's letters during the operations of . the memoirs of martin du bellay and blaise de montluc give the french side. the early history of the trinity house has been investigated by mr. c. l. barrett, _the trinity house of deptford strond_, . the tudor dynasty filled the throne of england for a hundred and eighteen years. a hundred and six years of that period belong to the reigns of henry vii., henry viii., and elizabeth, three rulers of consummate ability. no other reigning house has maintained so high a level of governing faculty during so large a proportion of its existence, and it is not the least part of the wonderful good fortune of england that her destinies should have been directed, at a time of change and growth, by sovereigns of eminent capacity. she passed in those years from an old world to a new, and, however high we may rank the faculty of the race, it is impossible to doubt that the transition must have been far less successful than it was if there had been weakness or folly in its rulers. the two henrys and elizabeth, it must be remembered, were, in the fullest sense of the word, rulers. they had to submit to necessity, to abstain from much, to accept much which was by no means pleasing to them, but it was because they could do this, and did not persist in endeavouring to drive the world where it would not go, in the fatal fashion of the stuarts, that they succeeded. the great men who served them, and the qualities of the english people, were not made by the tudors, but it was they who chose the servants, and used the qualities of their subjects. the foundation of the modern navy was a great and vitally important part of their administrative work. it must not be supposed that there was any sharp-drawn line dividing the middle ages from the later times. the new monarchy itself cannot be said to have differed formally from the old. henry vii. claimed to reign by the same right and authority as his predecessors. the difference was in the method and the spirit. from the end of the fifteenth century till the beginning of the seventeenth, englishmen looked to the sovereign as the representative on earth of that law whose "voice" is "the harmony of the world." to the great mass of englishmen, to all, in fact, except a few nobles, and the poor and martial northern counties, the king was the divinely appointed ruler who stood between them and anarchy. they expected him to govern by the law, but they also recognised his commission to pronounce and enforce it. in later times the authority of the crown became an object of hostility, but from the day that henry vii. put on the circle of gold which had fallen from the helmet of richard iii. on the field of market bosworth, till elizabeth sank to rest, old, weary, and half broken-hearted, there were few englishmen who would have drawn any distinction between the state and the king. on the continent of europe the same influence was at work, turning the mediæval king into the modern despot. so, too, in regard to the navy, there is no deliberate break with the past, no express beginning of any new thing. the ships are still the king's, commanded by his captains, manned by his mariners, administered by his servants. even in matters of detail the old usages lingered far into the seventeenth century. the captain continued for long to be more soldier than sailor, the man whose business it was to fight, not to sail the ship. in boteler's "dialogues," published in the reign of charles ii., though probably written in the reign of his father, it is proposed, as if there were some novelty in the suggestion, that no man should be appointed captain until he had been at least one voyage to sea. the attempt to form a regular corps of naval officers dates from the restoration, and must be put to the credit of james ii., then duke of york and lord high admiral. the crews were still collected for each voyage, and disbanded at its end. this applies not only to the men, but to the officers, though the king might keep a certain number of captains about him, by putting them on the footing of gentlemen of his household. it was not until the time of the commonwealth, and then through the exertions of the council of state, that the navy was raised to a strength which made it possible to dispense with the service of pressed or hired merchant ships when a great fleet had to be fitted out. on the face of it, in fact, and if we look to the mere letter, there was no change at all. the admiral was still a great officer of state, who acted as king's lieutenant in sea affairs. there were king's ships managed by the king's servants, and in time of need the old calls were made on the ports to provide their quota for the defence of the country. yet for all that there was a change, and the beginning of something new. the same causes which were leading to the formation of professional standing armies on the continent, were at work to induce the tudors to pay attention to their navy. english kings had done so before them. when the duke of norfolk told chapuys, the ambassador of charles v., in , that it was a good thing for a king of england to be provided with ships to inspire awe in those who wished to attack him, he was saying nothing which was not well known to john or edward iii. the difference lay in the continuity of attention paid to the navy by the tudors, in the proportion of their revenue which they spent on it, and in the formation of a department expressly devoted to the work of maintaining the king's ships. in former times so much of the king's navy as was his personal property bore a close resemblance to those bands of mercenaries which he raised for a particular war, and disbanded when he had no further need for their services. from the time of the tudors his ships became a permanent establishment. it is from them that the royal navy descends, not from the sea militia of the cinque ports. the british army began with the regiments of charles ii., not with the host which was called out on the summons of our ancient kings. from the very necessity of the case, a permanent fighting force calls for the attention of a no less permanent civil administration. throughout nearly the whole of the reign of henry viii. the work continued to be done under the supervision of the clerk of the ships, but by an increasing staff of subordinate clerks, called for by its growing needs and the establishment of a dockyard at portsmouth. the office, in fact, grew, as has been commonly the case with our administrative machinery, by adaptations to meet needs. at last, in , in the year before his death, the king formed the first regular navy board by letters patent dated april . it consisted of a lieutenant of the admiralty, a treasurer, a comptroller, a surveyor, a clerk of the ships, and two officials who had no special title. a "master of the ordnance of the ships" was created at the same time, but this was a separate office. this organisation was subject during its history to suspensions and modifications, as will be seen further on; but four of the officers here named, the treasurer, surveyor, comptroller, and clerk of the ships, or of acts, or of the navy, continued with brief intervals to be the chiefs of the civil administration of the navy till . upon them fell the duties of buying stores, building and taking care of ships, managing the dockyard, distributing provisions, paying wages, and what we should now call the compassionate allowances given to wounded men. this body existed, with temporary suspensions, but little permanent modification, till , when it was merged into a body from which it must always be carefully distinguished--namely, the admiralty. the admiralty, which has now absorbed the whole administration of the navy, originally only exercised the higher military control. it was, in fact, the representative of the lord high admiral, and is still technically described as the commission named to discharge the duties of his office. this office descended to the tudors from earlier times. the lord high admiral was, to repeat a phrase already used, the king's lieutenant for sea affairs. he exercised a large jurisdiction, gave commissions to the military officers of the navy, the lieutenants, that is to say, and captains, issued the orders, and commanded in war. the non-military officers, the masters and their mates, whose duty was the navigation of the ship, the doctors and pursers, fell under the navy office. this department was subordinate to the admiral, and bound to execute his orders, but he did not sit in it. in earlier times he discharged the duties of his office in his own house. even at later periods, when there was an admiralty office at whitehall, the navy office had its own quarters in seething lane, or, later on, in somerset house, until the great reform of welded the departments together. by the end of the reign of henry viii. the navy was, in so far as the main lines are concerned, organised pretty much as it was destined to remain for three centuries. the chief change introduced during this long period was the formation of the regular corps of naval officers, which dates from the restoration. until that time there was no organised body of fighting sea officers, as we may call them, in order to avoid the confusion which arises from the use of the word "military" as applied to the naval service. individual men were habitually employed, and, when not on service, provided for by being put on the footing of gentlemen of the royal household, but they had no general commission as naval officers, and no claim to pension. the lord high admiral gave commissions when a fleet was fitted out, issued instructions, and commanded in person. the navy office, or navy board, did the civil work. on this side of the administration the necessity for taking care of ships and stores early led to the formation of a regular staff of pilots, boatswains, and gunners, who belonged to the navy, and were not merely attached to this or that ship for as long as she was in commission. the growth of the ship itself had much to do with bringing about the formation of a permanent royal navy. by the beginning of the sixteenth century, it was no longer possible to rely on such resources as could be found in the cinque ports, even if they had not been silted up by the action of the currents of the channel. little vessels built for the coasting trade had neither the size, the strength, nor the armament which had now become necessary for the work of war. the larger merchant ships of the great ports were, indeed, better fitted for the purpose. in those times of insecurity at sea they generally went armed, even in peace. accordingly, we find that until the middle of the seventeenth century pressed or hired merchant ships were always to be found in great fleets. but their inferiority to the vessel built for war was early recognised. queen's officers were found to declare that the merchant ships were of little use, except to make a show, in the fight with the armada. the special warship early became a necessity to a power which was bound to keep up its strength at sea. it could only be provided by the state, which at that time meant the king. henry vii. saw that truth clearly, and so did his successors on the throne. if they did not build vessels enough to render them independent of all other sources of supply in war, it was because of the poverty of the crown. from the time, indeed, when vessels of any size began to be required for purposes of war, the state was compelled to rely on those it built for itself. the great bulk of our trade was conducted in vessels of small size. even at the end of the first quarter of this century, a merchant ship of tons burden was thought large. the great majority ranged from to about tons for the most distant voyages. but as early as the reign of henry vii. warships were built of tons. such vessels could not be supplied by the trade. neither were the trading craft, being built as economically as possible, equal in strength to those constructed for war. the great ships of the early tudors were an exaggeration of the cogs of the middle ages. they were longer, broader, and built much higher in the sides. but they had the same towering castles at bow and stern. the word forecastle preserves the memory of the species of fort which once cumbered the fore part of ships. these fortresses were shut off from the rest of the ship by barriers, called, in later times at least, cobridges, and defended even when the enemy was in possession of the waist. small guns, called "murdering pieces," were mounted on them, to clear the deck on emergency. as parts of a castle they had their merits, but they were very dangerous top hamper for a ship. the fate of the =mary rose=, which will be mentioned later on, shows how easily vessels of the time were upset. their instability was exaggerated by the nature of the rigging. in the largest vessel there were four masts--one at the prow, another at the stern, and two between. they were apparently complete spars, not divided, as in later times, into lower mast and topmast. each carried a great square sail or course of excessive height, to which a topsail could be added. the strain thrown on the hull by these great sails must have been severe. it was aided by the castles, which had a constant tendency to tear away when the ship was rolling. as the structure was weak, and the caulking alone was trusted to keep the ships watertight, it is easy to understand that a very short cruise or a very moderate spell of bad weather was enough to reduce the noblest of them to the condition of a sieve. indeed, the unfitness of the "capital ships" of the sixteenth century for winter cruising was recognised by everybody. even a hundred years later, when many improvements had been introduced, naval officers were reluctant to keep large vessels at sea after summer was over. as late as the reign of william iii., at the end of the seventeenth century, a council of officers declared that the heavier line-of-battle ships could not be safely kept out after the first days of autumn. in the earlier tudor times they were of use only in fine-weather months. the smaller vessels, being less built upon, and not subject to the same amount of leverage tending to tear them to pieces, were more seaworthy. as they must also have sailed very badly, there is no apparent reason for the confidence inspired in our ancestors by the presence of one of these "capital ships." they must be supposed to have trusted it to bear down opposition by its mere weight, just as a very fine corps of mail-clad horsemen would sweep lighter opponents before them on the field of battle. their armament consisted of a multiplicity of guns, ranging from very small pieces mounted on the castles up to the "cannon royal," a -pounder, on the main deck. guns of different sizes were mounted on the same deck. experience gradually showed the unwisdom of this variegated armament. in the following generations the cannon royal was given up as too heavy, and the very small pieces as too light, while the batteries were made uniform. the subsequent progress of the navy is better understood when we remember from what it was that it started. the early tudor warship was absurdly over-hampered with superstructures, rigged in a fashion which was inefficient, and yet exposed the vessel to a dangerous leverage, and armed as if the aim had been to produce confusion. it was still so little fitted to struggle with the forces of the sea and wind, that it could not meet winter weather. from that point the royal navy advanced to the stage at which nelson could keep his watch off toulon for two years, and at the end of them be still ready for the pursuit of villeneuve. the story is one of continual simplification and adaptation. the towering over-built castles were cut down, the long complete mast was subdivided into lower, top, and top-gallant. these two last named could be lowered in case of need to relieve the ship. the unwieldy course was reduced, and the topsails and top-gallant sails added to the power of the ship, while remaining themselves perfectly handy. the upright mast in the prow was lowered till through successive stages it became the bowsprit. the armament was brought into a comparatively few classes of guns. the method in which the ships of the tudors were manned and fought is better known than their construction. during his first war with france ( - ) henry viii. provided for the equipment of his fleet very much after the fashion which continued to be followed in the raising of regiments till the end of the eighteenth century. he entered into a contract with his admiral, sir edward howard. the king, on his part, undertook to provide ships, guns, and a sum of money. the admiral, on the other hand, bound himself to do his sovereign service, and to give him one-half the prizes. the business of collecting the crews was apparently left to the admiral, who was armed with the power to press, and was entitled to command the service of local officials for the purpose. it shows how far a fleet was looked upon as a temporary force, that this contract was only to last for three months, and to be renewable for periods of the same length. if the desired purpose was effected, or peace was made, the whole force would be dissolved. hired or pressed ships would be paid off, and allowed to go. the king's ships would be returned to his own docks, which were then in the thames, there to remain under the care of his officials of the navy office (or, since we are speaking of , it would be more accurate to say, the officials who in the course of the ensuing years were to be organised into the navy office) until they were again wanted. the men would be disbanded. there would be left the admiral, who was a great officer of state, ready to command when called upon, the civil officers, the caretakers of the ships and stores, and the ships themselves,--the materials, in short, out of which a fleet could be formed when required. this was the method in its main lines. the details will be best understood by taking a single ship, and seeing how she was manned. for example, let us take the establishment of the =gabriel= as she was in the month of march in the fourth year of the reign of henry viii. ( ). it gives the disposition of the crew, that is, the classes into which it was divided, and their rates of pay. the statement, which is taken from charnock, does not agree with the list of the navy in as quoted in the calendar of state papers of henry viii., but it supplies us with an account of the crew of a great ship of the time which is substantially accurate as a model. how little confidence is to be placed in the details of the lists of "the king's army on the sea" which are preserved from this reign may be shown by a single fact. in one "book," or, as we should say, "return," corrected by wolsey, the =gabriel= is described as of tons, having two captains, cortney (courtenay) and cornwall, with men, of whom are mariners. in another she is said to be of tons, with one captain, sir will. pirton, and men. number wages of of men. men. sir william trevellian, captain, at d. a day /- his retinue, every man /- a month £ the town of gloucester, every man /- a month £ /- john clerk, master /- mariners, every man /- a month £ dead shares, that is to say, the master, ; his mate, ; the pilot, ; four quartermasters, ; their mates, ; the boatswain, ; his mate, ; the coxswain, ; his mate, / ; the carpenter, ; the caulker, ; the steward, ; his mate, / ; the purser, = - / , £ , s. d. gunners, every man /- a month /- rewards to the gunners, that is to say, the master gunner, /- a month; his mate, / ; the four quartermasters, every one of them / apiece, /-; fourteen gunners at d. apiece, / / sum of the men, ; of the dead shares, - / ; of the money, £ , s. d. no lieutenant is named, and an officer of that name only appears later, but he probably had an ancestor in the gentleman who was captain of the retinue of sir william trevelyan. this gentleman was a soldier appointed to fight, and not to attend to the navigation and seamanship, which was the duty of the master. from the fact that the mariners are given as a separate class, we may confidently conclude that the retinue consisted of soldiers, whom the captain brought with him. it will be seen that they greatly exceeded the sailors in number, and this was for long the rule. there is, in truth, no greater mistake than to suppose that the crews of the great warships at any time contained a majority of real seamen, but in henry's reign the proportion of soldiers was larger than was commonly the case in later times. the indenture made in with sir edward howard provides that of the men to be raised over and above the crew of the =regent=, which is mustered by itself, were to be soldiers, and sailors. it is probable, however, that under the name of soldiers were included many men who afterwards would have been entered as "waisters" and "landsmen," parts of the ship's company who were only expected to work on deck or below, and were not in the proper sense "sailormen." the gunners also were a separate class, and we may safely conclude in their case also that they were not--at least not necessarily--sailors, but rather marine artillerymen. "dead pays" is an odd expression, which, however, almost explains itself. they were imaginary men, whose pay was applied to the purpose of providing a sufficient salary for the warrant officers. in theory every member of the crew received the same allowance of s. pay and s. rations for a month of twenty-eight days. the captain, who drew eighteenpence a day, was the only exception. it was a manifestly insufficient salary, but a gentleman in his position was probably a man of means, who expected to serve at his own charges, and looked to prize and ransom money, or to the king's favour, for his reward, as also for the means of rewarding the volunteers of good family who followed his banner. the system was one which obviously lent itself to abuse. a poor or unscrupulous captain would be tempted to enrich himself by making false musters, that is, by misstating the number of men actually present in his ship, and pocketing the money paid for wages. he would always have the help of subordinates who were bribed, or were afraid to offend a great man when he wished to deceive the king. this absurdly roundabout way of remunerating the officers was finally given up, but it left a curious representative in the so-called "widows' men" of quite recent times. they also were imaginary sailors, and the pay allowed for them was handed over to greenwich hospital, to form a fund for the pensions of women whose husbands were killed in action. the twenty-five men of the town of gloucester mentioned in the list of the =gabriel's= crew may be supposed to have been contributed by the town to the king's navy as its quota of the levy. in the crews of other ships we find mention of the men of exeter, or of the county of devon, or the earl of arundel, or some other great noble, who were similarly mustered apart. these are traces of the mediæval organisation which survived into and overlapped the new time. the manner of fighting of the time is sufficiently well known. of strategy, in the proper sense of the word, the sea-captains of henry viii. knew the essential. they could harry an enemy's coast and commerce for the purpose of provoking him to fight, or lie in front of any port where his ships might be at anchor, and wait till he came out. the actual management of ships when engaged with the enemy was decidedly rough and ready. it does not appear that there was as yet any formation of a fleet. one great number of ships advanced in a swarm against another, and each individual vessel got into action as speedily as the seamanship of her master and the spirit of her captain allowed. in one of the letters of sir edward echyngham to wolsey we have a spirited account of the preparations made to meet some hostile french ships. he reports that on a certain day in april he spied three french men-of-war "that made unto usward; and then i comforted my folk and made them to harness, and because i had no rails upon my deck i coiled a cable round about the deck breast high, and likewise in the waist, and so hanged upon the cable mattresses, and dagswayns (a species of coarse, shaggy blanket used by the poor), and such bedding as i had within board, and setting out my marris pikes, and my fighting sails all ready to encounter these three french barks, with such poor ordnance as i had, and then they saw that i made unto them with so good a will, and would not shrink from them, then they put themselves to flight, and then i chased them till they came to the abbey of fécamp, which lies hard by the seaside, and so they gat them under the walls of the haven, and we followed them until they shot their ordnance into us." from sir edward echyngham's despatch, it is clear that his ship had no bulwarks between the fore and after castles, and the protection for the men fighting on deck was secured by making a temporary barrier of bedding, blankets, and sails. it was here that the enemy would naturally attempt to enter, and the men stationed in this part of the ship, commonly called the waist, would be most exposed to the fire of the enemy's tops and castles. the practice of concealing this, the most vulnerable part of the deck, by hanging up what were called waist-cloths, continued until the next century. they were, however, a very poor substitute for bulwarks, being exceedingly inflammable. well-painted wood will resist fire for a long time, but canvas sails, bedding, and blankets are much more easily set blazing. an accidental explosion in the ship herself, the wads from the guns on the cobridge heads, or, worst of all, the flames of a fireship alongside, would cause all the canvas and rigging to burn up like a bonfire. a frightful instance of the facility with which a disaster of this kind could be produced was given in the very first naval battle of henry viii.'s reign. the mention of pikes proves that sir edward echyngham calculated that a considerable part of his fighting would consist in repelling boarders or in attempting to board. indeed, until it got to hand-to-hand fighting, there was little decisive result to be expected from the sea battles of that time. the guns were, as has been said above, often heavy, but the artillery practice of the crews was very rough. the allowance for windage was absurdly large, and it was consequently a matter of chance in what direction a bullet would go. besides, the use of cartridges had not yet been introduced, and the powder was ladled out of a barrel--a very slow and very dangerous practice. it seems to have been thought that a great fleet had maintained a fire of wonderful intensity if it discharged three hundred shot in one day's work. this is far less than the total amount of the fire of either the =victory= or the =royal sovereign= at trafalgar. by firmly establishing the royal authority, and by filling his treasury, henry vii. had prepared the way for his son's work as an organiser of the navy. he certainly left his son a navy of no contemptible strength, according to the standard of that time. the statute-book of his reign contains several acts meant to encourage shipping. the comparative obscurity of his navy is probably mainly to be accounted for by the fact that he looked upon war with dislike, and never pushed a quarrel with his formidable neighbour, the king of france, beyond the point at which louis xi. was prepared to offer him a bribe to keep quiet. but, however much henry viii. may have received from his father, he certainly exerted himself strenuously to increase his inheritance. he not only built ships, but he improved the naval architecture of his subjects by inviting workmen from the great italian ports. he not only built and improved ships, but he took a very keen and intelligent interest in the organisation of his fleet and in the performances of his vessels. he extended his establishments on the thames, and to him belongs the credit of setting up the dockyard at portsmouth. and we know that in march , in the fourth year of his reign, he issued a "licence to found a guild in honour of the holy trinity and st. clement in the church of deptford strond, for reformation of the navy, lately much decayed by admission of young men without experience, and of scots, flemings, and frenchmen as loadsmen." loadsmen were those who were considered capable to throw the lead, and were the skilled seamen from whom the masters and pilots, or, as we now say, mates, were chosen. this was the trinity house, which still exists, and still continues to perform the duty assigned to it by henry viii. of examining those who wished to be accepted as fit to navigate or pilot a ship, besides taking care of the lights and buoys all round the coast. its connection with the navy was much closer in tudor times than it came to be later on; for not only did it supply the masters and pilots of the king's ships, but it was entrusted with the supply and transport of many kinds of stores. a letter written by sir edward howard on the nd of march gives a very pleasing instance of the minute personal interest which the king took in his ships. the document has been so damaged by time and accident that a large part of it is illegible, but from what can be deciphered we learn that sir edward gave the king a minute account of the performances of all the vessels in his squadron, during a cruise from the mouth of the river to the channel. fragments of sentences tell how the one sailed very well, and how "your good ship, the flower, i trow, of all ships that ever sailed," did something which the damaged state of the paper conceals, and then "came within three spear-lengths of the =kateryn= and spake to john fleming, peter seman, and to freeman, master, to bear record that the =mary rose= did fetch her at the tail." "the flower of all ships that ever sailed" was apparently the =mary rose= herself, howard's own flagship, the same which was destined to come to such a disastrous end in the solent some thirty years later. sir edward tells how she "fet" the =mary george=, and in all ways proved herself "the noblest ship of sail ... at this hower that i trow be in christendom." when they came to anchor, the admiral noted down the order in which the vessels forming his squadron came up to the road: "the first after the =mary rose= was the =sovereign=, then the =nicholas=, then the =leonard= of dartmouth, the =mary george=, the =harry= of hampton, the =ann= of greenwich, the =nicholas montrygo=, called the =sancho de garra=, and the =katherine= and the =mary=." that the king's officers were encouraged to keep him so minutely informed of the performances of his ships is proof enough of the interest henry took in his navy. although the new time had begun, the change from the middle ages was not yet very perceptible in so far as the general direction of a war was concerned. it was still a matter of raids and casual battles. the first naval action of henry's reign was in pursuit of the old standing war against the pirates. a scotchman named andrew barton had been robbed by the portuguese, and had received letters of marque from his own sovereign, authorising him to indemnify himself for his loss out of any portuguese property he could find upon the seas. in much later and more civilised times it was never difficult to turn a privateer into a pirate, and in the early sixteenth century the distinction between them was fine in the extreme. barton betook himself to considering that everybody he came across on blue water was a portuguese, or would serve the purpose very well. he plundered englishmen, frenchmen, and flemings indiscriminately, and without the slightest regard to the embarrassments he cost his own sovereign. at last he became such a nuisance that ships had to be fitted out to pursue him. according to a story which is not very well founded, they were sent out at the expense of the earl of surrey, and were commanded by his sons, sir thomas and sir edward. the two vessels belonging to barton, called the =lion= and the =jenny perwin= or =bark of scotland=, were overtaken by surrey's two cruisers, and captured after a fight of a most determined and picturesque character, for which, however, the chief authority is a spirited ballad of much later date. there is no doubt, however, as to the death of barton, who was one of the numerous scotch pirates of the time. the same year which saw the capture of these skimmers of the sea saw also the beginning of a much greater naval war. in henry entered into the first of his wars with france. as he had then been only two years upon the throne, the fact that he was able to despatch a considerable naval force against the french coast at once, shows that he must have inherited a large force of ships from his father. four-and-twenty vessels of his own, which he reinforced by ships hired from the hanse towns and of the spaniards, represented the, for that time, very respectable naval power of the kingdom. the war was carried on in the barbarous mediæval style. in sir edward howard, to whom the king gave the command as lord high admiral, ravaged the coasts of brittany. the devastation of his dominions stung the king of france into making counter exertions, and a fleet was collected at brest under the command of an officer of the name of primauguet, which our historians, availing themselves of the licence of the age, corrupted into sir pierce morgan. in king henry's fleet was collected at portsmouth, to be prepared to repel the french if they made any attack, or to fall upon them first if their coming was delayed. the king himself rode down to portsmouth and reviewed the soldiers, who formed the larger part of his crews on the downs. then the fleet sailed, standing over to the coast of france. what exactly followed it is very difficult to say on the evidence we possess. the fleets certainly met somewhere in the neighbourhood of brest. the historians on either side contradict one another flatly, both as to the respective strengths of the combatants and as to the result of the fight, each asserting that his own countrymen were outnumbered, and that the enemy ended by flying away in a scandalous state of panic. the one point on which all agree is, that somehow or other, and in consequence of manoeuvres which are perfectly unintelligible as they are narrated, the great english ship the =regent=, of which sir thomas knevet, the king's master of the horse, was captain, and the still larger french ship named the _cordelier_, fell on board one another, caught fire, and blew up. knevet and the french admiral, primauguet, whose flag was flying in the _cordelier_, both perished, and from one thousand to fifteen hundred men with them. whether, as the french assert, this disaster had such a terrifying effect on the english ships that they all ran away, or whether, as our authorities maintain, the french were completely cowed, and took refuge in brest, the fact that the battle came to an end with no very decisive result is well established. the terrible circumstances of the loss of these two ships produced a profound impression. we notice in ensuing years a marked disinclination among french and english to come too close. it is a feeling easy to understand. there was little use in destroying your enemy if you perished with him; and when both were so inflammable, and the danger of fire was so great, it was always likely that flames would break out somewhere, and if they did, it was nearly certain that they would spread from one to the other. the substantial fruits of victory remained to the english, for their enemies attempted no retaliation. king louis xii. was plainly convinced of the inferiority of his forces, for he prepared for the struggle of the ensuing year by sending for a reinforcement of galleys from the mediterranean. they were brought round by a french knight of malta of the name of pierre jean le bidoulx, which was abbreviated into pregent by his countrymen, and corrupted by us into perye john, and preter john. the winter months put a stop to the movements of ships between and . in this year the operations began as before, that is to say, the english fleet sailed over to the coast of france for the purpose of making plundering raids, and then there was a fight between the two fleets. in this case, however, the end was disastrous to england. in spring sir edward howard had his fleet collected at plymouth. the total strength was of ships , of tons , which gives an average of some tons each. the statement as to the strength of the crews drawn up for wolsey illustrates the superiority of the soldier to the sailor element in the fleets of the time. it is recorded that the captains were in number, and the soldiers , while of masters there were , and of mariners . from this method of arranging the different elements of the crew, it is obvious that the captain and his soldiers were not looked upon as naval men in our sense of the word, but purely as fighting men, and were altogether considered as as much superior in dignity as they undoubtedly were in numbers to the sailors. it will be seen that these vessels must have been crowded to what would now be thought a dangerous extent. there were no less than two hundred men per ship. it was no doubt for this reason that the fleets of that time were attended by a swarm of small vessels called victuallers. there was, in fact, insufficient room to store the provisions required for such considerable bodies of men in such diminutive craft for any length of time. these victuallers were of course a serious hindrance to any fleet. they were slow, and, being only merchant ships, employed wholly as transports, were perfectly incapable of offering any resistance to an enemy. thus the naval force which they were meant to feed was not only kept back from movements of any rapidity, but was constantly compelled to employ a large part of its strength in protecting its own food against attacks by even insignificant ships belonging to the other side. one short cruise out, an attack on some part of the enemy's coast, and a prompt return home, was all that could be expected from fleets pestered by so many obstructions. it is said that howard was so well pleased with the force under his command that he urged the king to come down and take part in the attack on france himself, for which he was soundly rebuked by the council as having shown an insufficient regard for the safety of his majesty's sacred person. yet king henry might have made this voyage with very little risk, and howard himself might have returned from the coast of france in safety but for his own headlong courage. on reaching the neighbourhood of brest, which he seems to have done on the th of april, the admiral found the enemy in no humour to give him a meeting. their ships fled back into brest on his approach, not, as it appears, into the actual harbour, which lies at the end of the very appropriately named goulet or gullet, but into bertheaume bay, which lies just outside on the north. here they took refuge under the protection of forts, and refused to be enticed out. howard had, in fact, made his appearance on the french coast at a very inconvenient time for the enemy. pregent, who was on his way with the galleys from the mediterranean, had not yet been able to join the french ships at brest. the english were placed between the two divisions of the enemy, and, being apparently superior in force to either of them, could have crushed them in detail if once they could have been got out of the protection of their forts. but to come out was just what the french would not do; nor could howard by any insults, or even by the damage he inflicted on the coast villages, sting them into giving him battle. provoked by the shyness of his enemy, and perhaps sore from the rebuke inflicted on him by the council, howard made two successive, and, as the result shows, very rash attacks on the enemy. he first endeavoured to sail in and attack the french at anchor in bertheaume bay, but, being very ill supplied with pilots, he speedily came to grief. one of the largest of his vessels, commanded by arthur plantagenet, a natural son of edward iv., ran on the rocks, and became a total wreck. it does not appear that howard blamed "master arthur" for the loss of the ship. in a letter to the king on the th of april he praises him for his courage, and says that he had given him leave to go home. "for sir, when he was in extreme danger ... he called upon our lady of walsingham for help and comfort, and made a vow that, an it pleased god and her to deliver him out of the peril, he would never eat flesh nor fish till he had seen her." as master arthur plantagenet would have been reduced by his hasty vow to the sad necessity of living upon dry bread, it was humane to let him get home as quickly as might be. the middle ages were not yet quite over, but the years were at hand when any officer of king henry's who had pleaded a vow to our lady of walsingham as the excuse for retiring from the presence of the enemy would have soon found himself in another and even a worse form of peril than shipwreck. after the failure in bertheaume bay, howard turned to attack "pery john," as he calls him. the knight of malta, finding himself cut off from brest, had taken refuge in conquet bay, which lies just round the point san mathieu, the extreme western end of the north side to the approach to brest. le conquet is a little island, one of several which stretch south-east from ushant, and the bay is just opposite on the mainland; the channel between them is called the passage du four. the french commander had drawn his galleys up on the beach. it was one of the advantages of these long, narrow, and in stormy waters unseaworthy craft, that they could be beached with ease, and so escape larger and heavier vessels which dared not follow them so near the shore. if howard could have landed men and guns, he might very soon have made an end of the galleys. and it does appear that he had a scheme of the kind in contemplation, but, whether because he feared interruption by french ships coming out of brest, or whether only because his buoyant courage ran away with him, he took another course. the story is told by sir edward echyngham in a letter to wolsey dated the th of may. "the news of these parts be so dolorous," he begins, "that unneith i can write them for sorrow;" and it was indeed a sorrowful story. sir edward howard, so we make out, finding that the enemy would not give him a fair meeting, and that, while he was subject to interruption from brest, he could not safely land his soldiers to attack pregent, had at last despatched part of his fleet into what we then called the trade, which is now known as the passage de l'iroise, and had decided to make a front attack on the enemy in conquet bay with the others. it was, in fact, a cutting-out expedition; and once more we note that the middle ages were lingering on, for the admiral led himself, as sir john chandos might have done, on a piece of work which in later times would have been more appropriately left to a subordinate officer. the object, as sir edward echyngham reported, "was to win the french galleys with the help of boats, the water being too shallow for ships," and he goes on to describe what followed in words which it would be hardly possible to better. "the galleys were protected on both sides by bulwarks, planted so thick with guns and cross-bows, that the quarrels and the gonstons (gunstones) came together as thick as hailstones. for all this the admiral boarded the galley that preyer john was in and charran the spaniard with him and sixteen others. by advice of the admiral and charran they had cast anchor into [word illegible] of the french galley, and fastened the cable to the capstan that if any of the galleys had been on fire they might have veered the cable, and fallen off; but the french hewed asunder the cable, or some of our mariners let it slip. and so they left this [word illegible] in the hands of his enemies. there was a mariner wounded in eighteen places who by adventure recovered unto the buoy of the galley so that the galley's boat took him up. he said he saw my lord-admiral thrust against the rails of the galley with marris pikes. charran's boy tells a like tale, for when his master and the admiral had entered, charran sent him for his hand gun which before he could deliver the one galley was gone off from the other, and he saw my lord-admiral waving his hands and crying to the galleys, 'come aboard again, come aboard again,' which when my lord saw they could not, he took his whistle from about his neck, wrapped it together and threw it into the sea." so died sir edward howard, deeply lamented. "for there was never nobleman so ill lost as he was, that was of so great courage, and had so many virtues, and that ruled so great an army so well as he did, and kept so good order and true justice." sir edward was the first of the short list of our admirals who died in battle, and it may be said that he was the last knight in the old sense of the word--that is to say, a valiant man of his person, thinking more of the point of honour than of beating an enemy by good management--who commanded an english fleet. although it has been the custom to speak of the valour of this attempt as honourable to the whole force engaged, the truth seems to be that sir edward howard was not well supported. this small english galley in which he boarded the frenchman appears in sober fact, to have been seized with a panic. no sooner had the knights and gentlemen leapt on to the frenchman's deck than their mariners left them to shift for themselves. nor was it only the sailors who were somewhat deficient in spirit. sir edward echyngham reports that "sir henry shirborne and sir william sidney boarded prior john's galley, but being left alone, and thinking the admiral safe, returned." these two, though brave men, satisfied themselves hastily of the safety of their leader, and it is not easy to understand how they could have failed to see his peril, considering that the whole body was crowded on the narrow space of a galley's deck. the loss of sir edward howard most certainly had the effect of depriving his command of all spirit. within ten days they were back in england, and echyngham's account of the repulse was written from hampton. the excuses given for this hasty return were that the fleet did not know to whom the command ought to fall upon the death of the admiral, and the want of victuals. they are more plausible than convincing, and the fact probably is that the fleet was dispirited on finding that the french were too strongly posted to be attacked. the discipline, too, was probably not very good at a time when all forces were raised for temporary expeditions. the death of a leader whose rank and character secured the respect of his followers, was not infrequently followed by the disbanding of his whole force. the short remainder of this war, which speedily came to an end, was filled by a mere repetition of the old raids by english ships on the french coast, and by french on the english. pregent plundered the coast of sussex, while the english ships were refitting, till he had an eye knocked out by an english arrow. english captains in revenge plundered the coast of france, and so it went on with much brutality and no decisive effect till the war died a natural death. for thirty years there were no further events in the history of the navy which call for particular notice. henry entered into several wars with francis i., the successor of louis xii., and his navy was used to good effect; but little would be gained by a barren recital of the number and strength of the fleets fitted out to transport our armies across the channel, or harass the french coast. the superiority of henry during all these years was very marked. he had, in fact, no serious enemy at sea, for scotland was too poor to send out any naval armament above the level of a casual pirate or semi-pirate, while charles v., whose dominions included both our rivals at sea in the coming generations, the spaniards and the hollanders, was generally at peace with the king of england. francis i. might have been a most formidable enemy if he had applied himself to developing his navy. he did not indeed actually neglect it at any time, and towards the end of his reign he made one strenuous attempt to get the upper hand at sea. but he had too much to do elsewhere, not to be forced to sacrifice his fleet. his rivalry with charles v., both in the contest for the empire and in the struggle to obtain possession of the duchy of milan, made it absolutely necessary for him to devote his resources mainly to the maintenance of armies on land. in this as in other cases england owed a great deal to the geographical position which saved her from the temptations and necessities besetting her rival. it is enough to say that from to the english fleet carried troops across the channel or escorted the armies marching into scotland, practically unresisted. this interval was, however, of great importance in the history of the navy. the establishment of the navy office was not completed till , but the dockyards were more thoroughly organised, and were greatly extended. there was still very much to be done in the formation of a permanent service. a certain lingering confusion between the navy royal and the general shipping of the country probably accounts for the king's decision to leave the management of deptford dockyard in the hands of the trinity house. but the tendency was always towards the formation of special services to be employed for definite ends. although no regular naval service was as yet formed, the foundations were laid. even when there was no expedition to be carried out against the french or the scotch, the king took care never to leave the seas without their winter or their summer guard--small squadrons of vessels appointed to patrol the straits and the channel. this force was very small--in quiet times hardly exceeding six or seven little vessels, and the crews were hired only for the summer or winter commission. the fact that a man had commanded a ship in one or other guard did not give him any right to continued employment, but from the very nature of the case a certain continuity of service would arise. officers who proved satisfactory, or had good friends at court, were employed again and again, and the king's captains began to be a recognised body; while it is safe to presume that there were some soldiers and mariners who found his service more acceptable than that of private employers, and who volunteered into it with regularity. it was during these years, too, that the first efforts to improve the construction of ships were made by the introduction of skilled shipwrights from the italian ports. of these henry must have had a respectable staff in constant employment. when the =mary rose= was sunk at st. helens, the efforts made to raise her were mainly directed by italian workmen. after neglecting, or if not actually neglecting, then subordinating, the naval strength of his kingdom to his armies, and to much less worthy purposes, for thirty years, francis i. was at last driven into making a desperate effort at sea by the capture of boulogne in . when the king of england had appeared in france at the head of an army of , men, and had added another defensible position to the fortress he already possessed at calais, the unwisdom of leaving him the command of the channel was borne in upon francis with a force which aroused him to efforts really worthy of the occasion. in the spring of (the operations of the previous year had merely been the transport of the army, and a few plundering expeditions) preparations were made on both sides for something deserving to be called war. the king of france built ships in batches, and brought from the mediterranean not only his own galleys, but large numbers of vessels hired from the ragusans, whom our ancestors called the aragoozes. the superiority of the fleet which he was soon able to command might have taught a french ruler how very possible it was for his great monarchy, then certainly more than twice as populous and rich as england, to excel her in the number of her fleets. the english were outnumbered from the first, and knew it. in the spring of , lord lisle, then henry's admiral, and the famous or infamous duke of northumberland of the next reign, made his appearance on the coast of france with a scheme for attacking the french in the seine; but he did not carry it into effect, and the explanation that he found his enemy too strong is at least the most plausible. when the french put to sea, the english certainly acted in a manner to be expected of men who felt themselves overmatched. they retired into portsmouth harbour, and allowed the french admiral, d'annebault, to advance to the anchorage of st. helens, and establish himself there unopposed. the real strength of the french fleet was by no means in proportion to its numbers. a large part of the ships were galleys, which were of little or no use except in a dead calm. it seems, too, that the spirits of the french fleet had been a good deal damped by a disaster which happened before they left havre. a great vessel, the _philippe_, the most beautiful in the world according to the french writers, caught fire in the harbour of havre, and burned to the water's edge. blaise de montluc, who saw the disaster, immediately formed the conclusion that no good would come of the enterprise; and if he, who was the most intrepid of mankind, had come to this gloomy conclusion, we may be sure that there were plenty more in the fleet who were not in a more confident spirit. a much more trustworthy indication of the little result to be expected from the enterprise would have been the want of spirit of the officers chosen to command by the french king. they had, in reality, an immense superiority of strength. one hundred and fifty "great ships," and at least a hundred smaller vessels, were collected under the command of d'annebault, and the troops amounted to eight or ten thousand men under the command of marshal biez. the force was amply sufficient to strike such a blow to england as would have very rapidly compelled henry to restore boulogne, if it had been used with any degree of resolution, but the french leaders were from the beginning on the outlook for difficulties. they left havre on the th of july, and two days later made their appearance on the coast of sussex, where they spent some time in plundering insignificant fishing villages. no attempt to molest them was made by the english fleet, which lay quiet in portsmouth harbour. after doing just enough on the coast of sussex to arouse the whole countryside, the french fleet came on to the isle of wight, and anchored at st. helens. here they remained, apparently for about ten days, neither attacking with determination, nor being attacked to any purpose. the fine july weather and the prevailing calms were wholly in favour of the french, whose fleet consisted largely of galleys. on the english side, a number of the smaller vessels had been fitted with sweeps, in order that they might act against the rowing vessels of the enemy. but neither did they show any particular zeal to attack. the king himself had come down to portsmouth to survey the fortifications, and if courtly historians did not praise him too much, it was at his suggestion that the english vessels were provided with oars. henry did not stay to witness the fighting (if it deserves that name) which ensued, but returned to london, leaving the command of the fleet to lisle, and of the garrison to suffolk. the operations were of a very monotonous description, and leave us under the impression that each side was reluctant to fight till it had the other at a hopeless disadvantage. on the first day the french admiral sent forward sixteen galleys under the command of the baron de la garde, for the purpose of drawing the english admiral out to st. helens, where he might be overpowered by numbers. lisle was resolute not to be tempted to put himself at a disadvantage. indeed, the plan was rather a futile one, which it hardly needed any great display of skill on the part of the english admiral to defeat. the galleys were not able to face the king's ships when any wind was blowing. they were very lightly built, and carried only one gun in the bow. if the english ships were able to manoeuvre, they could either overpower their enemy by the fire of their broadsides, or, better still, run into them and sink them. such a vessel as the =great harry= running before a good breeze would probably have gone over a galley without suffering any material damage herself. therefore the vessels sent by d'annebault could not, without extreme rashness, come within striking distance of the english fleet, except in a dead calm. when, however, the weather was of this kind, the english ships were unable to move, and could not sail into the french fleet even if they had been disposed to do so. the fight, then, between the two resolved itself into something like this. during the calm hours of the morning, the baron de la garde and his colleague strozzi, the prior of capua (the same who afterwards took the castle of st. andrews from the scotch reformers, and had john knox for his prisoner), came near enough to lisle's ships to open an exasperating fire. so long as the wind did not get up, the english vessels lay helpless, and could only reply to the fire of their enemy with the few guns they could bring to bear. in such a case, the galleys at all times took care, as far as possible, to station themselves right ahead or else astern of their opponent, in order to avoid the fire of the broadside, though this, considering the rude gunnery of the early sixteenth century, was almost an excessive precaution, since the narrow, low-lying galley, when end on, must have presented a mark much more likely to be missed than to be hit. when the breeze got up, the english ships stood toward the enemy, who thereupon incontinently fled, and was not followed for any considerable distance. this moment was dangerous for him, for if he did not turn quick enough and get away before the english were quite close, he was likely to suffer very severely, for the galleys carried no guns astern. la garde and the prior of capua were expert officers, and when, after some hours of long bowls, the wind got up and the english ships began to bear down, they extricated themselves very smartly from danger. the first day having thus passed in a species of fighting which might have been prolonged for weeks with little material damage to either side, the french went on for a second, but not apparently for a third day. yet, on this occasion, they were encouraged by the conviction that they had really inflicted a severe loss on the english fleet. there had been a loss, but it was due, unless all contemporary englishmen were in a conspiracy to conceal the truth, to something more discreditable to us than the enemy's cannon. the king's ship, the =mary rose=, had been thrown away by pure mismanagement. this was the vessel so ardently praised by sir edward howard in the words quoted already. she capsized as she was coming out of portsmouth harbour, owing, as it would seem, partly to defects in her construction, partly to neglect of precautions on the part of her crew. the lower-deck ports are said to have been only sixteen inches above the water-line, which is certainly dangerously low. as her crew were tacking her, or altering her course in some other way, she heeled over. if the ports had been shut and the guns made fast, no great harm might have followed, but the ports were open and the guns cast loose. when the water rushed in, the additional weight caused the vessel, overburdened as she was with the weight of her fore and after castles, to heel still further, and then the unfastened guns fell in a rush on the lee-side, probably breaking through wherever they fell against the planking. the =mary rose= filled and sank with such amazing rapidity, that of the soldiers and sailors, more or less, who formed her crew, not more than were saved. the pardonable conviction that they were entitled to credit themselves with the destruction of the =mary rose= had no very inspiriting influence on the french. m. d'annebault even gave up making any further attacks to draw the english ships out by the use of his galleys, and adopted the alternative course of landing small parties of men in st. helens bay, at shanklin, and the blackgang chine, for the purpose of plundering the country. none of these landing-parties seem to have been of any strength, and several of them were roughly handled by the militia of the island. d'annebault has been severely criticised by his countrymen for want of energy, and on the whole with justice. he excused himself, partly by pleading that if he had landed a great number of men, he would have so weakened his fleet that the english at portsmouth could have fallen upon him with every prospect of success, and partly by the opinion of a council of war. the first of these excuses is very lame, for at a later period d'annebault could afford to put four thousand men on shore in france, and yet be strong enough to give battle to lisle at shoreham. he could certainly have landed three thousand in the isle of wight, and if he had done so he might have retaliated very severely for the damage done by the english in france, while the ships at portsmouth must have incurred deep discredit if they had lain idle while the houses of their countrymen were being burned before their eyes. the council of war is only technically a better excuse. he did indeed call a council of all the pilots in his fleet, to ask them whether it was possible to attack the english at portsmouth with success. the pilots, as might have been expected, magnified the dangers and the difficulties--the shoals, the narrowness of the entry, the currents, the tides, the risk that the first vessels entering would be overpowered, and block the way for those following, the chance that a ship anchoring in a tideway would swing stern-on to the english fire, and, in short, all the topics of dissuasion which are usually advanced by subordinates on such occasions. if the expert knowledge of pilots had been listened to by nelson, he would never have fought the battle of the baltic. fortunately for king henry viii., d'annebault does not seem to have reflected that you can hardly hope to inflict serious injury upon an enemy who possesses some effective strength, except at the very serious risk of being hurt yourself. he wanted, to judge by his actions, to win without running any serious risk; and as the enemy with whom he had to deal was not one likely to give him a victory upon these easy terms, he had finally to retire without delivering an effective stroke. his timidity and want of resource are strikingly illustrated by the fact that he made no use of his galleys for the purpose of towing his great ships into spithead, which they could easily have done. on the other hand, it must be confessed that no very great enterprise was shown by the english in the use of their own row-boats. we neither hear of them as being employed to tow the big ships into action, nor of any really serious attack made by them upon the galleys. perhaps the fate of sir edward howard was too fresh in the recollections of our officers to allow of any repetition of his attempt in conquet bay. whether any considerable number of men were either killed or wounded in these very languid operations is doubtful, but both fleets certainly lost heavily from a cause which, throughout the whole of this and the following two centuries, was far more destructive than the sword. hardly had king henry viii. left portsmouth when his generals began to report to him the prevalence of sickness in his fleet; while the plague broke out amongst the french at st. helens, even if it had not begun before they left havre. overcrowding, dirt, and salt food were universal in old fleets, and they produced their natural effects. we are probably well within the mark in supposing that for every man killed in action, or mortally wounded, fifty died of fever or the plague, and this continued to be the rule until well past the middle of the eighteenth century. what between disappointment at the obstinacy of the english in not fighting him on his own terms, the timidity of his pilots, and want of enterprise, d'annebault, after spending several days in this futile manner, sailed away from st. helens, coasting along sussex, and making, as before, small plundering attacks, which even seem to have been very badly conducted, and could in any case serve no purpose except to embitter the already sufficiently savage hostility of the two countries. after a few days of this, he stood over to the coast of france, and near boulogne landed not only four thousand soldiers, but three thousand pioneers, who had been supplied to him for the purpose of erecting the fortifications in the isle of wight. even after this he still thought himself sufficiently strong to return to the english coast, and he reappeared accordingly in a few days. on their return to the coast of england, the french made no attempt to renew the attack on the isle of wight. they prowled along the shores of sussex and of kent in what reads like a very aimless manner. if they had any definite object, it was to prevent the english from sending reinforcements to boulogne. on the whole, it does appear likely that they had some such purpose, for the general direction of their cruise was towards the narrow seas. so soon as they were relieved from their fears at portsmouth, the english ships were ordered out to observe the french. it appears, from a letter of lisle's to paget, that he had been instructed by the king to remain at spithead. "havyng received your letters, this morninge, wherein i do perceyve the kinges majesties plesser, as concerninge the settinge forwardes of his majesties navy towardes the narro sees, wher, as it aperith, the frenche men doo tryhumphe, i truste ther shalbe no tyme forslowyde in the advauncement and settinge forth of his majesties plesser in that behalfe; and i moste humbly thanke his majestie, that it hath plesed the same to gyve me libertye to look towardes theyme, for i never thought my selfe in prisone tyll now, syns the tyme of our lyinge here, and doe no servis. i truste in god that we shall departe hense uppon tusdaye, yf the wynde will serve us." when they did depart hence, some time was spent in finding the exact whereabouts of the triumphing french. lisle sent vessels to look into havre, who reported that a great part, if not all, of the french fleet had returned. this, however, must have been a mistake, for d'annebault had certainly come back to the north side of the channel immediately after landing his men at boulogne. between the th of august, the date of the letter quoted, and the th, lisle found the enemy somewhere in the neighbourhood of shoreham. the orders he had taken in view of the expected battle are particularly interesting, not only for what they tell of the sea fighting of the time, but because they contain the first mention of much which appears continuously during the succeeding centuries of our naval history. the fleet under lisle's orders consisted in all of vessels. he had divided them into three squadrons, respectively called the vanwarde, the battle, and the wing. all three terms were taken from the military language of the time. the battle was the usual name of the main or central division in the army, the vanwarde needs no explanation, and we may suppose that the wing was used to describe the third division, later called the rear. this is the division into red, white, and blue squadrons, which became established in the naval wars of the seventeenth century. these titles were taken from the flags which finally came into use. in the only flags shown were the royal standard or "banner of the king's majesty's arms," and the cross of st. george or english ensign. lisle provided for distinguishing his own flagship from those of his subordinates by ordering that she should bear the royal standard at the main, and one flag of st. george's cross at the fore. the ships of his division were to carry the st. george's cross at the main. the admiral of the vanwarde was to carry two flags of st. george--one at the main, and the other at the fore. the ships of his division were to carry their st. george's cross at the foretopmasthead. the admiral of the wing was to carry the english ensign at the mizen, and every ship of his division was to do the same. it does not appear that the ships in this division were distinguished in any way from the flagship. by night the admiral carried three lights--one great lantern on the poop, and two smaller lights in the midst of the bonaventure mizen shrouds. the bonaventure mizen was a very small mast at the extreme end of the ship, where the smaller mast of a yawl is now placed. the admiral of the vanwarde carried two lights, and the admiral of the wing one light, on the bonaventure shrouds. the last articles of the sailing orders were, "the watch wourde in the night shalbe thus, 'god save king henrye'; thother shall aunswer, 'and long to raign over us.'" this has been supposed to be the germ of the national anthem. in strength the fleet was divided as follows:--the van consisted of ships, carrying men, the battle of , with men. lisle himself was in this division, with the flag in the =henry grace à dieu=. the wing was of smaller vessels, carrying only men. perhaps the most interesting of the admiral's fighting orders is the third-- "item, when we shall se a convenient tyme to fight with thenimies, our vanward shall make with ther vanwarde, if they have any; and if they be in one compenye, our vanward (takyng thadvauntage of the wynde) shall set uppon ther foremost ranck, bryngyng them oute of order; and our vice-admirall shall seake to bourd their vice-admirall, and every capitaign shall chose his equall, as nere as he maye." in the thirty years which had passed since the death of sir edward howard, some progress had been made towards establishing a recognised order of battle. practice, helped no doubt by speculation, had brought our admirals to see the necessity of a regular method. in this disposition to stretch all along an enemy, and engage him from end to end, we have the first indication of that line of battle of which so much will be heard. it was the natural formation of a fleet relying on its broadside as its means of offence. but the line of battle may be left to grow a little more clearly defined before we discuss it. what is for the present of interest is to point out that the principle upon which the great majority of our naval battles have been fought, was present, not in germ, but fully developed, in this third item of lisle's orders. it contains, in fact, the whole of the famous article xix. of the fighting instructions. the van was to steer with the enemy's van, the centre with his centre, and the rear with his rear, and the captains were to take "every man his bird." in time this became a sheer pedantry, and a burden under which the ablest officers of the navy chafed for a generation, until a happy accident encouraged them to throw it off. but in it was a progress, since any kind of order was in advance of none at all, and there was no hope of finally attaining a good system except by a series of experiments,--in other words, by successively trying everything that was wrong, and rejecting it. the correspondence of the lord admiral was otherwise interesting. there was, for instance, admirable sense in the reasons he gives for not appointing two captains to the vessels fitted as galleys. "and wher as his majesties plesser ys to have to capitaynes and leaders of his highnes rowyng peces, i do think, yf it may so stande with his highnes plesser, that one shall do his majestie better servis then too. for if theyr be too rulers, one will have his mynde, thother wil have his; if any thinge frame a mys, thone will excuse him by thother; the resydue under theym will excuse theym by two comanders; 'he bed me do that, and tother this.' yf theyr be butt one, having chardge, nether he that hath the chardge commytted only to him, nether thos which be under one, hath any soche excuse." lisle's correspondence contains also several incidental notices of the ships under his command, which are valuable as showing the unseaworthiness of even the best vessels of the time. thus, for instance, he writes on the th of august to lord st. john: "this shall be to advise you that the king's majesty's new ship called =the mistress= is in such case with labouring in this foul weather, that she is not able to keep the seas, without spoiling of her masts, and tackle overboard. her mainstay is loose in the partners, and the cross-trestles both of her foremast, and also of her mainmast are broken." the foul weather of which lisle complains must have been experienced between the middle of july and the latter half of august. at that season it would certainly have been thought extraordinary, in the eighteenth century, that a new ship should have been so strained by weather alone as to be under the necessity of returning immediately to port. it does not appear that lisle made any complaint of the work done on the =mistress=, or that he attached any blame to her officers. he rather accepted this instant disabling of this vessel, which, be it observed, was the flagship of the wing, as a dispensation of providence to be borne with patience. nor was the =mistress= by any means the only ship of his fleet which had broken down under the strain of a few weeks' cruising in summer. on the st lisle writes again to st. john-- "i trust your lordshipp have advertised the kinges majestie of the state of the =mystres=, and of the gallye =subtill=, and the foyste, which i suppose wooll be hable to do no more sarvice, until they be amended. and if the french armye shuld retourne agayne this yere to the sees, which verilly i rather thynck they wooll not, we shuld have no small mysse of those three peeces. there be allso in this armye dyvers shippes, which, after another storme, wooll be hable to loke no more abroode this yere. and i thynck our enimies be in as evill cace, or worse. for emonges such a nomber of shippes, as they have, and as we have, all cannot be strong, nor all cannot be well tackled." if it appears, as on a bare narrative of the facts it must, that both fleets showed a singular languor during their movements in this summer campaign, it is only fair to take into account the quality of the instruments with which the admirals had to deal. it was not possible to do anything very rapid with clumsy, ill-balanced vessels, which were overstrained by a summer breeze. moreover, both leaders were in reality hampered by what they no doubt considered an element of strength. the numbers of their fleets alone would have made any kind of combined action impossible. at a time when the vessels were incomparably better, and our seamen had a far larger experience, nelson considered it impossible to manoeuvre more than thirty ships in a line of battle. that is to say, he thought it beyond the power of the most skilful and practised body of captains ever collected under one command to combine the movements of more than thirty well-constructed ships in such a manner that they could be brought to bear upon an enemy all together. if this was impossible with so small a number of very superior vessels, we can imagine how hopeless must have been the attempt of d'annebault or lisle to direct the movements of a hundred and a hundred and fifty inferior vessels of all sorts and sizes. with the best will in the world, they could not but straggle in the variable summer breezes and the tides of the channel. besides, the system of signals was hardly yet in existence. there were, and indeed at all times must have been, a few arbitrary signals, to anchor or to get up anchor, to fight or leave off fighting, and so forth, but there were no means by which an admiral could communicate an order to make a particular movement, except by sending a boat with an officer. of course this implies that the movements of fleets must have been very slow, or else a messenger who had to row could not have overtaken the captain to whom he was sent. even so, to send orders to the ships ahead of the admiral must have required an amount of time which made any rapidity of movement impossible, besides leaving an interval for accidents which would render the order improper by altering the whole circumstances. in fact, no battle, in the sense the word had in even the seventeenth century, could well be expected to take place between these two fleets in , even if there had been a more manifest desire on the part of the admirals to bring one on. the truth is, that neither d'annebault nor lisle showed any such inclination. the frenchman returned from his own coast to ours, and began to stretch along it from west to east. lisle followed, with the intention of making a stroke at the enemy if a particularly tempting opportunity presented itself. on the th of august he wrote to paget: "if we chance to meet with them, divided as it should seem they be, we shall have some sport with them." from the french account in the memoirs of martin du bellay, which is both full and fair, it is clear that d'annebault was no more adventurous than lisle. on the coast of sussex he showed the same incapacity to understand that, in war more than in most enterprises, he who will nothing venture shall nothing have. the english fleet came in sight of the french near shoreham on the th of august. d'annebault had drawn his vessels as close to the beach as was safe, with his galleys to the west, under a small headland, and therefore between his great ships and the english, who were advancing from portsmouth. the galleys had been hauled into very shallow water, where the larger of lisle's ships could not reach them. d'annebault's calculation was, that the english admiral would not care to run the risk of passing the galleys, for the purpose of attacking the great ships beyond, lest they should fall upon his rear, and so put him between two fires. according to lisle's statement to the king of the plan on which he intended to fight, he would not have been deterred from attacking by the dispositions of the french admiral. he had made counter arrangements which were skilful in intention, and might have been effective. his plan was to fall upon the great ships of the french fleet, with the vanwarde and the battle, leaving the smaller craft which formed the wing to stay behind, or to windward, and ward off the french galleys. a shift of the wind from the west to north-east rendered it impossible for him to carry out his intention. the change in the wind had transferred the weather-gage to d'annebault, and if he had been as eager for battle as according to martin du bellay he asserted himself to be, he had now an admirable opportunity of fighting. but d'annebault again found insuperable difficulties in the way of coming to close quarters. all the use he made of his chance was to fight a tardy, inconclusive battle. martin du bellay and lord lisle substantially agree, but we may give the preference to our own countryman. "after my right hartie commendacions. theis shalbe tadvertise you, that the kinges majesties navie ys arrived twhart of beauchif; where, for lack of wynde, we be at this present comme to ancker, to stopp this ebbe, and with the nexte fludd, which wooll be aboute foure of the clock in the mornying, we entend (god willing) tapplye towards dover. i had thought the french fleete wold have been here before me, to have stopped us at this place, for uppon saturdaye night last, both they and we came to ancker within a leage togethurs; and all the same daye, frome noone untill night, they assailed us with ther gallyes, but ther hole fleete approached us not, untill it was after son settyng; before which tyme ther gallies were repulced, and then both they and we came to ancker, within a leage one of an other: and yarly in the mornyng they were dislodged; for by the tyme yt was daye, they were asfarre unto the wynde of us, as we might escrye them oute of my mayne topp, halyng into the seawarde, the wynde beyng somewhat fresshe; so that, if they had taried, ther gallyes could have doon them letill pleasour. and wheras, the daye before, they came togethurs, like an hole wood, they kepte now, in ther removing, noon order; for some of our small boates, which could lye best by a wynde, (whome i dyd purposely send to se what course they helde, and what order they kept) brought me wourde, that they lay est with the sailes, as though it shuld seame that they mynded to fetche the narrow sees before us. ther was five myles in lenght (as they thought) between ther foremost and ther hyndermost shippes. and seyng that they be not here in this baye (which we have alredy seane) i cannot perceave, howe they can be before us in any part of the narrow sees. wherefore i have thought good to desyer you to send me some of your intelligence, and allso that you wold gyve knowledge to rye, that all the shippes, which be there with the kinges majesties victualles, may comme and mete with me to morowe at the nasse (dungeness), as i goe towardes dover; where, (god willyng) if the wynde wooll suffer me, i wooll be with thole flete to morowe at night. herof i requier you, with diligence, tadvertise the kinges majestie. and if ther armye, or any parte of them, remayne in any parte of the narrowe sees, whethur it be uppon ther owne quoast, or uppon oures, i doubt not but i wooll have some knowledge of them, ones ere to morowe night; wherof allso (god willyng) i wooll not faile to signifye unto his highnes. and thus i byd you right hartilly well to fare. in the harrye, under beauchif, this mondaye, the th of august, at of the clock in the night." your assured loving frende, (signed) john lisle. to this lame and impotent conclusion came the great attempt of francis i. to punish henry for the capture of boulogne. when every allowance is made for the insufficiency of the tools with which the french admiral had to work, it is impossible to acquit him of having shown a remarkable want of spirit. it would appear, if we are to trust blaise de montluc, that his countrymen did not expect much. "our business is rather on the land than on the water, where i do not know that our nation has ever gained any great battles," is the sentence in which he dismisses the expedition. montluc, for his part, did nothing that was worthy to be written about. but it was perhaps because the french did not expect much, then or at later periods, that their admirals have so commonly shown the timidity of d'annebault. the war contained no further naval operations of any importance. both fleets were worn out by operations which for the time were lengthy and trying. the governments, too, were exhausted, and all but bankrupt. both francis and henry viii. were at the end of their lives; and although peace was not actually made till after the death of both of them, the war was not pushed seriously. only a very detailed history of the navy could find place for an account of the reigns of edward vi. and mary tudor. much could not be said, however anxious the historian might be to pass over absolutely nothing. the only achievement of edward vi.'s government with regard to the navy was to employ it for the purpose of assisting the protector somerset's invasion of scotland. this effort appears to have exhausted the energies of king edward's council, as far as the navy was concerned. in fact, all the members of that body were far too busy intriguing against one another, to attend to the defences of the realm. the resources of the country had been taxed to the utmost during the reign of henry viii. a sum of over £ , , was calculated to have been spent on wars during the reign of father and son, and to get the equivalent of that outlay in our generation we must not only multiply the sum spent by , but divide the existing wealth of the nation by some much larger figure. during the few years of confusion which make up the reign of edward vi., the navy was reduced to half the numbers attained by henry viii. seventy-one vessels, of which thirty were of respectable size, was the strength of henry's navy. queen elizabeth never had quite so many ships; and although those of james and charles i. were on an average larger, they were never more numerous. mary tudor inherited the diminished navy of her brother, and she could do little to bring it back to the former standard. her marriage with the king of spain established a firm alliance, for the time being, with what was then the most considerable naval power in europe, while the entire exhaustion of france in the reign of henry ii. made the possession of a powerful fleet less necessary. but though little was demanded of the navy at that period, it was allowed to become too weak to do even that little. when calais was attacked by the duke of guise in the winter of , mary's navy was so unprepared that it could not be got ready in time to give the least assistance to the garrison. a few of our ships, which had been fitted out too late to be of any service at calais, did make their appearance on the flank of the french troops, which were defeated on the sands at gravelines, by the count of egmont, and that was about the sum of the service they rendered during mary's reign. there was indeed something stirring among the seamen of the west of england, which was to have great consequences in the next reign, but it will come to be dealt with more appropriately in our account of the navy of queen elizabeth. chapter ii reign of elizabeth to the defeat of the armada authorities.--charnock continues to be of value for this reign, and indeed for the history of the navy till the end of the eighteenth century. derrick's _rise and progress of the royal navy_ gives useful official lists. mr. whateley gives the substance of the rules established for the navy office by elizabeth in , at pp. - of his _samuel pepys, and the world he lived in_. the original is in the s. p. dom. elizabeth, vol. xv. the calendars of state papers of the reign contain much information as to the navy. more is in the great collection of hakluyt. the navy record society has published the papers referring to the armada, while the spanish side of the story is told in _la armada invencible_ of don cesareo duro--so admirably extracted and combined by mr. froude in his _spanish story of the armada_. drake's first notable cruise to the west indies is told in the _drake redivivus_. when elizabeth ascended the throne, in , she found the navy in the same state of weakness and confusion as all other parts of the administration. its downward progress from the high level at which it had been left by henry viii. was rapid. in , at the beginning of the reign of edward vi., it had consisted of vessels of , tons, carrying brass guns and of iron. the crews were then estimated at men. in the sixth year of elizabeth's reign, even after her government had begun its efforts to restore the naval forces of the country, the number of vessels was only . from that point it gradually returned to something more like the position it had occupied under henry viii. in one respect, indeed, it may be said to have remained permanently inferior to his. it never reached the same number, but numbers afford only one, and not necessarily the surest, test of strength. the size and armament of the ships are often far more trustworthy indications of power than the number of vessels. during the queen's reign the average size of ships was much greater than it had been in her father's. in the navy contained ships of , tons, manned by mariners, gunners, and soldiers. the total force is put in derrick's list at officers and men. if these figures are accurate, or even only approximately correct, it would appear that the staff of the navy, that is, the officers and their immediate personal attendants, must have numbered . ten years later the navy had increased to ships of , tons, with men. at the death of the queen the number of ships was , the tonnage , , while the crews amounted to men, divided into mariners, gunners, and soldiers. on comparing these figures with those of the navy as it stood in , it will be seen that the ships of elizabeth were on an average rather more than twice as large as those her brother had inherited from their father. the changes which had taken place in the constitution of the crews are somewhat different. the little vessels of king edward carried nearly as many men as the much larger ships of queen elizabeth. no doubt, where there were more ships to man, many men were necessary, but, scattered among small vessels averaging tons or thereabouts, they cannot have exerted the same power as they would have done in the better and heavier warships of elizabeth. it is interesting to see the great change which had come over the constitution of the crews in the course of the century. in henry's reign the soldiers were always more numerous than the sailors. during elizabeth's the proportion was entirely reversed, and at the date of her death the mariners were almost twice as numerous as the soldiers in her sea service. in fact, the navy was becoming necessarily a more seamanlike force. the development of the ship had been steady. the mere barges of king henry's reign had given place to vessels which were already approximating to a modern standard. seamanship itself had grown far beyond the humble standard of the early sixteenth century. then the seaman, at least the english seaman, was a mere coaster. when the great queen died, he was already accustomed to far-ranging voyages, and the navy was no longer expected only to carry soldiers across the channel, and fight a force no more expert than itself, but to invade the west indies, and at need to circumnavigate the globe. it followed that the sailor became relatively more important, and as his skill grew to be the most essential element of strength, his numbers had to be increased. sir walter raleigh in the following reign summed up the changes which had taken place in his time. "whoever were the inventors, we find that every age has added somewhat to ships; and in my time the shape of our english ships has been greatly bettered. it is not long since the striking of the topmasts, a wonderful ease to great ships, both at sea and in the harbour, hath been devised, together with the chain-pump, which taketh up twice as much water as the ordinary one did. we have lately added the bonnet, and the drabler, to the courses; we have added studding-sails, the weighing anchor by the capstern. we have fallen into consideration of the length of cables, and by it we resist the malice of the greatest winds that can blow. witness the hollanders, that were wont to ride before dunkirk with the wind at north-east, making a lee shore in all weathers; for true it is, that the length of the cable is the life of the ship in all extremities; and the reason is, that it makes so many bendings and waves, as the ship riding at that length is not able to stretch it, and nothing breaks that is not stretched." when we speak of the greater size of elizabeth's vessels, it must be remembered that the increase of tonnage had been among the smaller, not the greater warships. some of king henry's had been as large as, if not larger than, any of queen elizabeth's, but then she did not have the same swarm of mere cockboats. the navy was, in fact, tending to become a more uniform as well as a more seaworthy force. the armament of these ships was still very heterogeneous, and the names of the pieces curiously fantastic. the following list gives the mere denominations of the guns:-- cannon demi-cannon culverins demi-culverins sakers mynions falcons falconets port-pece halls port-pece chambers fowler halls fowler chambers and curtalls. there is some uncertainty as to the weight of the shot fired by these various pieces, and the following list must be taken with some reserve, but it no doubt gives the calibres of the guns with substantial accuracy. +---------------+---------------------+---------------+ | | sir | according | | | william monson's | to some other | | sorts | account. | accounts | | of +---------+-----------+---------------+ | ordnance. | bore. | weight of | weight of | | | | the shot. | the shot. | +---------------+---------+-----------+---------------+ | | inches. | lbs. | lbs. | | cannon | | | or | | demi-cannon | - / | - / | | | cannon petro | | - / | | | culverin | - / | - / | | | demi-culverin | | - / | | | falcon | - / | | | | falconet | | - / | ... | | minion | - / | | | | sacar | - / | - / | | | rabinet | | / | ... | +---------------+---------+-----------+---------------+ the quality of these guns was good. down to the middle of the sixteenth century they were made by welding together bars of wrought iron little inferior in tensile strength to that used in very recent times for armstrong guns. about the use of cast iron, which made it possible to turn out large numbers of guns, came in. all the changes which have taken place in the construction of weapons of war have not been in the direction of what we should consider progress. when in our own time the guns which had been sunk at spithead, in the wreck of the =mary rose=, were dredged up, it was found that they were breech-loaders, and there is evidence that experiments in the rifling of cannon were made very early. the difficulty of making a trustworthy breech-piece accounts for the triumph of the muzzle-loader, which drove its rival out of the field for centuries. the distribution of the guns in the ships remained very much what it had been during the reign of henry viii.; that is to say, cannon of the most various sizes were mounted side by side on the same deck. a few specimens taken from a list attested by the auditors of the prest and the officers of the ordnance in , printed by derrick, will show how far this practice was carried. +----------------------+------------+------------+------------+ | names. | arke | white bear | triumph | +----------------------+------------+------------+------------+ | cannon. | | | | | demi-cannon. | | | | | culverins. | | | | | demi-culverins. | | | | | sakers. | | ... | | | mynions. | ... | ... | ... | | falcons. | ... | ... | ... | | falconets. | ... | ... | ... | | port-piece halls. | | | | | port-piece chambers. | | ... | | | fowler halls. | | | | | fowler chambers. | | ... | | | curtalls. | ... | ... | ... | +----------------------+------------+------------+------------+ | total number of | | | | | pieces of ordnance | | | | +----------------------+------------+------------+------------+ a large proportion of the pieces named here were very small, and it is doubtful what is to be understood by some of the terms. they apply doubtless often to small "murdering pieces," of about the size of a duck-gun, mounted on the cobridge heads and bulwarks, for the purpose of repelling or driving out boarders. therefore we must not suppose that the guns of the =triumph= represented anything like what that figure would have meant two hundred years later. it must not be forgotten that if elizabeth did less to increase the strength of the navy than her father, she did not inherit a treasure as he did, and neither had she the spending of the plunder of the church. he spent his capital. she had to confine herself to income. no administrative changes in essentials were made by elizabeth in the organisation of the navy. the function of the officers of the navy office, which had not as yet been strictly defined, were settled by instructions issued by the queen in . what her government did do was to attend to the navy with enlightened care, and to select the officials with judgment. it is known that for years the business of building, refitting, and taking care of the ships of the navy, and of superintending the purchase of stores, was carried on by sir john hawkins, who held the posts of treasurer and comptroller of the navy. hawkins was the successor of his father-in-law, benjamin gonson, in the office of treasurer. it appears that he held his post under an agreement with the queen, by which he undertook to discharge the ordinary duties of caretaking for £ a year, he meeting all the common charges and supplying part of the stores, while heavier and exceptional expenses, whether for building new ships or for fitting out the fleet for sea, fell to the crown. his remuneration for the work was apparently to be derived, in addition to the fees of his offices of treasurer and comptroller, from what remained over and above after paying for the work, and from the privilege of disposing of condemned ships and stores. the openings for fraud in such a system are many and obvious. if his enemies are to be believed, hawkins did not miss the opportunities afforded him. it is said that he robbed the queen directly, and that, being partner in a shipbuilding yard on the thames, he made use of his official position to forward his private interests. but lord howard of effingham bears witness that hawkins had the ships of the queen's navy in admirable order in the armada year, and he is undoubtedly entitled to the credit of having done much to introduce into the navy the improvements in construction and rigging detailed by sir walter raleigh. such in its main outlines was the instrument of which the great queen, her ministers, and her captains made magnificent use. it was but modest and even weak in itself; but in truth the royal navy was only part of the naval force at the disposal of elizabeth. during the forty-four years of her reign, we constantly find that the vanguard in all actions, and a great part of the main body of the queen's sea power, was formed of adventurers. in the following century, and from the time of the first dutch war, it is possible to tell the history of the navy with rare references to the action of those volunteers who fought for their own hand as privateers. but this was by no means the case with the navy of queen elizabeth. the most famous of her captains gained their reputation by privateering voyages, and were only taken into her service when they were already known leaders. to the end of her long war with spain the private ship is found fighting alongside the queen's. the most successful of her expeditions against the spaniard, whether in europe or in the new world, were carried out by what, according to modern practice, would be a very strange partnership between the crown and speculators, who, no doubt, had patriotic motives, but who had also very direct interest in the pecuniary results of the campaign. in fact, the word adventurer in the language of elizabeth's time was commonly applied, not to the sea-captains, mariners, and soldiers who assailed the spaniard in the west indies, but to the shipowners and capitalists who found the money for fitting out the expedition, and who claimed two-thirds of the prize as their reward. the privateer may be said to have made his first appearance during the last naval war of the reign of henry viii. the king had issued what were called letters of marque, that is, a species of commission authorising anybody who could fit out an armed ship to plunder the french and to keep a large share of the booty. his invitation to this form of private enterprise was eagerly accepted, especially by the seamen and country gentlemen of the west of england. they fitted out ships in large numbers, and cruised with profitable results against the french trade. the experience of - seems to have thoroughly established the taste for privateering in the western counties, and it endured without any visible sign of abatement for generations. during the reigns of edward and mary and the early years of elizabeth the western sea rovers continued as busy as ever, even when the country was at peace. they had an excellent pretext in the religious dissensions which were now beginning to swallow up, or at least to colour, the political conflicts of the european powers. in mary's reign, devonshire gentlemen of strong protestant sympathies betook themselves to the pious work of plundering spaniards and the other subjects of the queen's husband. the considerable traffic between flanders and the basque ports of spain supplied them with an irresistible motive for embracing the cause of pure religion. when the low countries revolted against the persecuting despotism of philip ii., the protestants, who had been for a time crushed on land, appeared on blue water under the well-known name of "the beggars of the sea." these landless and desperate men found sympathy and help in the west country. for many years no small part of the duty of every spanish ambassador consisted in making unavailing protests against the outrageous piracy of the queen's subjects. in this school were trained the men who manned the ships of hawkins and drake. at the same time, another influence was at work to turn the energy of englishmen to the sea. until the death of mary tudor put an end to the burgundian alliance, that is, the close community of interests which had for long united england with the house of hapsburg, there had been few signs of distant commercial enterprise in england. the trade to the levant had indeed been extended, and attempts had been made to open a route by the north-east to the spice islands, but england seemed to be reluctant to break in upon the portuguese monopoly of the route by the cape and the spanish tenure of the route by the west, until she had clearly learned by experiment that there was no third way of access she could acquire for herself. france, which was at open war with the sovereign of spain and the low countries, had sent out swarms of adventurers to attack the spaniards in the new world, but we had, when elizabeth ascended the throne, taken no part in this warfare. no sooner was elizabeth well settled on the throne than a great change took place. the persecutions of mary's reign, if they had not made england protestant, had at least made it bitterly anti-roman catholic; and this, at a time when the king of spain was the recognised protector of the pope, meant anti-spanish. this served to remove any disinclination to attack our old ally. at the same time, englishmen began to be much more effectively desirous of sharing in the wealth to be obtained by trade with the new world they were impatient at the thought that they were to be for ever shut out from the commerce of the east and the west indies by a decision of a pope of the previous century, who had given the spaniards everything to the west of the famous line drawn from north to south, a hundred leagues to the west of the azores, and had left the portuguese the exclusive right to everything in the east. we did not recognise the pope's right to dispose of what did not belong to him, and were minded to have our share of the good things lying beyond the line. the spaniards would hear of no such pretension, and, though they were ready enough to trade with us in europe, insisted upon treating all seamen of other nations whom they found in america as pirates. according even to the principles of some of their own thinkers, this refusal to trade was a fair justification for a war. elizabeth was, however, by no means prepared for open hostilities with spain. all she would do was to refuse to recognise the right of the spaniards to exclude her subjects from trading with the indians. therefore they were free in her opinion to go to the new world, and if the spaniards refused to recognise their trade as legitimate, elizabeth for her part was not inclined to forbid her subjects to defend themselves against what she considered unfair interference. the causes of dispute between the queen and king philip, apart from this, were many and various. thus it got to be known among enterprising englishmen that if they could make their hand keep their head from the blow of the spaniard, they had nothing to fear from the queen when they came home from poaching expeditions on his preserves. for men who had, or who only affected to have, religious motives, and who had the most genuine desire to gain riches, this hint was enough, and so the third year of the queen's reign saw the first voyage of hawkins to the west indies. in , hawkins, who was the son of a prosperous plymouth merchant and shipowner, and had been bred to the sea in his father's ships in voyages to the canaries, made the first recorded slaving venture carried through by an englishman. he had learned enough in the canaries to know that slaves were valuable in the west indies, and that the spanish planters, who were very ill supplied under the system of monopoly which prevailed in spain, would be ready to buy negroes smuggled among them by an english trader. with the help of his father-in-law gonson, sir william duckett, sir thomas lodge, and sir william winter, all merchants and seafaring men, and some of them very directly connected with the queen's government, he fitted out three little vessels and made a most profitable all-round voyage. first he went to the coast of africa, where he kidnapped slaves, then he went to the antilles and smuggled them. the second voyage, carried out in the last months of and the first of , was a repetition of this on a much larger scale. hawkins had now done so well that every confidence was felt in his capacity. lord robert dudley, better known as the earl of leicester, became his patron. he was allowed to hire a queen's ship, the =jesus of lubeck=, an old vessel built in germany. with a larger force hawkins visited the coasts of africa once more, after touching at teneriffe, probably to make arrangements with the spaniards associated with him in his smuggling speculations. on the coast of senegambia he plundered portuguese slavers who had already secured a full cargo, and then he burned, murdered, and kidnapped among the native villages until his hold was full of what in the cant of later times was called "ebony." with this cargo he made his way to the mainland of south america, after a trying voyage, in which both the kidnapped blacks and their captors suffered severely. hawkins was borne up by a conviction that the "lord would not suffer his elect to perish." at borburata and rio de la hacha he sold the greater part of his cargo, partly by the help of the planters, who were glad enough to get the slaves, and partly by threatening to do them a displeasure if his trade was forbidden. from rio de la hacha, hawkins sailed northward across the caribbean sea. the force of the westerly current, which is permanent in those waters, was not then known, and the smugglers were carried to the westward of the island of san domingo. owing to the mistake of a spaniard whom they had among them, either as a prisoner, or, as is at least equally probable, as the agent of their associates among the spanish planters, they fell to leeward, which in the west indies means to westward both of san domingo and of jamaica. as the season was far advanced, and his vessels foul from being long at sea, hawkins decided to make no further attempt to touch at the spanish antilles, which he could only have reached by beating to windward against the trade winds. he returned home by the straits of florida and the banks of newfoundland. on his way he relieved the french colony established in florida by ribault. it is one of the best-known events in the history of the time that this colony was not long afterwards exterminated by the spaniard pedro menendes de aviles, by methods which have, in the opinion of protestant writers, covered his name with the infamy of extreme cruelty. although there had been no actual fighting in hawkins's two expeditions, they were considered by the spaniards as hostile. that they should have taken this view is not unreasonable, for the english rover had undoubtedly forced an entrance into their ports by threats. he himself must undoubtedly have been aware that his occupation was illegal, for on his own showing he excused his presence in spanish ports by a tissue of lies. it was his regular practice to assert that he was sailing with a squadron of the queen's ships, and had been driven into harbour by bad weather or the want of stores. it is easy to understand that the manifest falsity of this excuse was not so obvious to the spanish government as it is to us. king philip would not unnaturally believe that although the queen disavowed the actions of hawkins publicly, she was encouraging him in private. in a sense this was true; for if the queen did not actually send hawkins to the west indies, she not only refused to punish him for going there, but allowed him to enjoy the fruits of his voyage, and shared in them largely herself as owner of the =jesus of lubeck=. if the sovereigns had been disposed to go to war, the excuse for hostilities was ready to their hands. but philip was entangled in heavy expenses by the revolt in the netherlands and his wars with the turks, who were then at the height of their power. so he preferred to remain patient under the provocations inflicted on him by elizabeth; and she, who had abundant troubles of her own, was equally little disposed to incur a war if it could be avoided. the struggle was left to be carried on by the subjects of both rulers in unavowed warfare, and from the nature of the case very soon took the form of piracy on one side and of savage repression on the other. hawkins had been exasperated on his return from his second voyage by what he considered a private wrong. ships which he had sent to spain from the west indies laden with colonial produce had been confiscated by the spanish government. at a later period he succeeded in getting back a part at least of the value of his forfeited goods by pretending to betray the queen. but between and , when he sailed on his third voyage, he had other schemes for righting himself. he would have sailed sooner than he did if the queen, who was in danger from the intrigues of mary stuart, had not had particular reason to refrain from offending philip too far. but in mary had ruined her own cause by the murder of her husband, and her marriage with his murderer. the need for philip's neutrality was not what it had been, and so hawkins was allowed to sail, and was again permitted to hire the queen's ships. that his expedition was of the nature of an act of hostility to spain was a matter of public notoriety. the spanish ambassador protested against it as against other acts of piracy, but to no kind of purpose. so little was hawkins restrained, that he was allowed to combine with some of the "beggars of the sea" for the purpose of plundering some spanish ships which took refuge in plymouth sound while he was lying there with his squadron. in high hopes, and with the sense that, however the queen might refuse to justify his actions in form, she would certainly afford him effectual protection, hawkins sailed on his third voyage, which ended so disastrously, in october . the earlier part of the voyage was spent in the usual round of kidnapping on the coast of africa and smuggling in the spanish ports of the west indies and the main. when only a remnant of his cargo of slaves remained, hawkins departed from his previous course and steered for the bottom of the gulf of mexico to the little island of st. juan de ulloa, which forms the harbour of la vera cruz, then, and now, the port of mexico. he excused himself for sailing into this harbour by his customary fiction, alleging that his ships had been injured by bad weather, and must be refitted before he could venture to return to europe. but this story can hardly have been told with the slightest expectation that it would be believed. indeed, hawkins was so thoroughly well aware that the spaniards would see through his very transparent defence, that on his way across the gulf of mexico he captured a spanish vessel, and held her crew and passengers as hostages. this was an act of undeniable piracy, and would have been so considered at any period of the world's history. in truth, it can only have been for form's sake that hawkins put himself to the trouble of repeating his stock invention. it had come to this, that if the spaniards were to make good their claim to keep the english from trading with their american possessions, they must show themselves strong enough to do it. for the present, hawkins believed that the strength was on his side, and, but for an event which he cannot be blamed for not foreseeing, he might very well have turned out to be in the right. the squadron hawkins took to la vera cruz on the th of september consisted of some ten or a dozen vessels, for he had been joined in the west indies by french rovers. with this force it would have been easy for him to overpower any resistance the spaniards could offer. there was at that time no fortress on the island of st. juan de ulloa, and the town of la vera cruz was not yet built. a few sheds, used only during the time that the yearly convoy of merchant ships from spain was in the harbour, was all that stood upon the beach. when hawkins made his appearance outside the harbour, he had no difficulty in frightening the local officials into letting him anchor. but in the course of negotiations with them he learned a piece of news which caused him well-grounded anxiety. on his first appearance off the harbour, the spaniards had mistaken him for a convoy expected from spain, bringing the new viceroy, don martin henriquez: of course, if this appeared, the position would be disagreeably complicated. but it was now too late for hawkins to go back, so he took up his place in the harbour. in a few days the fleet from spain made its appearance. it consisted almost wholly of merchant ships, but there was one heavy galleon of war which served as the flagship of the spanish admiral, francisco de lujan. hawkins could probably have kept the spaniards out of the harbour easily enough, but in the autumn months the coast of mexico is liable to furious gales of the nature of hurricanes, called northers. if one of these had burst while the spaniards were outside the island of st. juan de ulloa, the whole spanish squadron must have perished. as it was estimated to be worth £ , , , and carried hundreds of his subjects, including so great an officer as the viceroy of mexico, this would have been an outrage king philip could not possibly have endured. hawkins must have been very well aware that if the queen did not happen to wish for a war with spain at the moment when he returned to england after such an exploit, she would hang him without the slightest scruple for causing her the trouble. on the other hand, if he once allowed the spaniards to get inside the harbour, there was every probability that they would cut his throat with the least possible delay. in the dreadful fix in which he now found himself, hawkins hit upon a middle course. he allowed the spaniards to come in, after exacting from them a promise that they would suffer him to trade in safety and depart in peace. it is hardly credible that the englishman can have supposed that a promise extorted in such a fashion would have been observed. if he did, his confidence did not last long, for, in his own narrative of what our ancestors called "the treachery of the spaniards," he confesses that he was extremely nervous. from the day after don francisco de lujan had moored his ships beside the english on the island of st. juan de ulloa, he was in constant expectation of a sudden attack, and on the third day it came. the english had insisted upon keeping possession of the island, but the men who had been appointed to stand on guard broke into a panic and fled, leaving the guns mounted for the protection of the english ships to be turned upon them by the spaniards. the panic spread to the ships. the crews cast off their moorings and endeavoured to fly, but, attacked as they were by the battery on the island and by the spanish ships, they were all destroyed except two--the =minion=, in which hawkins made his own escape, and the =judith=, commanded by his cousin, francis drake. this, the treachery of the spaniards, makes a great epoch in the history of the naval adventures of elizabeth's reign. it killed for ever the hope of establishing a peaceful trade with the spanish possessions in the west indies. it showed our men that if they were to have their share of the wealth of the new world, it must be got sword in hand. hawkins, in whom there seems to have been very much more of the fox than the lion, did not again appear in the west indies, till he came there to die in the disastrous failure of . but the work was taken up by other hands. the strongest and the most famous were francis drake's. after two small voyages, probably smuggling ventures with slaves, in and , drake boldly entered the west indies to plunder in with two very small vessels, the =pasha= of plymouth, of tons, and the =swan=, of . this was a pure-and-simple buccaneering venture, conducted with spirit and skill, and finally with success. he was, indeed, beaten off at nombre de dios, which the historian of his voyage mendaciously asserts to have been a town as big as plymouth. it was, in fact, a mere temporary trading station, consisting of a storehouse and twenty or thirty wood huts in a very unhealthy position, and was afterwards given up by the spaniards in favour of porto bello. but after this check, and some months of cruising on the coast, made melancholy by the loss of a brother and nearly half his crews in scuffles with the spaniards or by fever, drake had the good fortune to capture a _recua_, the spanish name for a string of pack mules laden with gold. the profits of the voyage were immense, and the audacity of it, not unnaturally somewhat exaggerated by his countrymen, gained drake great renown. but the real fruits of his invasion of the west indies were seen in the voyage of circumnavigation which followed in and . a detailed history of this famous enterprise would be out of place here. it belongs, properly speaking, to discovery, and such feats as the capture of spanish merchant ships and of the galleon _cacafuego_ hardly entitle it to rank among the exploits of the navy. the importance of the voyage lies mainly in the immense stimulus it gave to the enterprise of the whole nation, and in this, that it was an unmistakable proclamation to the whole world that england had both the will and the power to set at nought the pretensions of the spaniards and the portuguese to debar all rivals from the free use of the ocean. after drake's return from ploughing a furrow round the world, we need not treat the actions of the adventurers as standing apart. although open war with spain did not come for several years, it was known to be inevitable by both countries. the most famous leaders among the western seamen were retained for the queen's service. throughout the years in which the maritime strength of england had been growing by its own intrinsic strength, and her seamen had been gaining both in skill and confidence, the royal navy, in the strict sense of the word, had played a subordinate part. it was not yet expected to afford protection to english traders beyond the four seas of britain. of what was its proper work, it had had little to do. in sir william winter had been despatched to the coast of scotland to aid the lords of the congregation in their struggle against the french regent, mary of guise. in - another english squadron had been employed to help the french huguenots by conveying the detachment of english soldiers who were sent under command of ambrose dudley to havre. in it was found necessary to employ the queen's ships against our late allies, the huguenots, sea rovers, and the beggars of the sea, who, having pretty effectually destroyed spanish commerce in the channel, were driven to plunder their protestant friends as an alternative to starvation. but as the struggle with spain grew nearer open national war, the navy found more perilous work than this. in a squadron of the queen's vessels did good service by capturing the spanish ships which had landed the soldiers of the pope at smerwick in ireland. even yet the queen shrank from making a direct attack on spain, and preferred to injure her enemy by assisting his rebellious subjects in the low countries. at last, when, under the sting of multiplying provocations, philip was known to be making ready in his own slow way for a decisive attempt to crush england for good, elizabeth and her council decided upon delivering a direct blow. the manner of the doing of the thing was a curious example of the partnership between the queen and her subjects. in an expedition was organised to sweep the west indies. the calculation was, that an invasion of this part of his dominions would cause the king of spain more harm than a direct attack at home, since he drew by far the best part of his revenue from the american mines. the english seamen were not yet sufficiently acquainted with the details of the spanish establishments in america to deliver their stroke in the most effectual manner. for one thing, they altogether over-estimated the importance of the towns in the west indian islands. yet, in principle, the policy of the expedition was perfectly sound. to cripple the king of spain before his invading fleet was under way, was a far more effectual course than to wait for him in the channel; and there is no doubt that the five-and-twenty ships put under the command of drake in the autumn of , to attack the island of san domingo and carthagena, did delay the sailing of the armada, besides inflicting great discredit on the king of spain. in this fleet only a minority of the ships actually belonged to the queen, the others being the property of men in business, who entered into this warlike operation as a speculation. unity of command was provided for by the appointment of drake, both as the queen's admiral and as the privateer admiral, if such an expression is to be admitted. martin frobisher, chiefly known hitherto as an explorer who had attempted to discover a north-west passage, was appointed vice-admiral. the command of the troops was given to christopher carleill, an officer of much experience both at sea and in the wars of the low countries. the fleet sailed from plymouth on the th of september, and touched on the coast of spain on the way out. it was characteristic of the time that we did not profess to be at war with the king of spain in spain, but only in america. therefore there was a good deal of rather polite negotiation between the english leaders and the marquis of zerralbo, the king of spain's governor of galicia. this did not prevent our seamen from plundering a spanish ship in which they discovered a tempting consignment of church plate; but casual acts of piracy of this kind were too much in the habits of the time to be counted an unpardonable infraction of the peace. from vigo the english fleet sailed to the canaries, and from thence to santiago in the cape de verd islands. at this place it made a too prolonged stay, in the hope of extorting a ransom, but the spanish authorities took refuge in the hills of the centre of the island, and could neither be threatened nor cajoled into giving themselves up. this was no doubt a serious disappointment to drake in his character of agent for the adventurers, and it was not the last; for though the political results of the cruise were great, as a financial speculation it proved to be a failure. from santiago the fleet stretched across the atlantic to the island of san domingo, and captured the city of the same name with very little difficulty. the spanish towns had not hitherto been subject to any attack more formidable than that of native indians, and were not seriously fortified. they fell easily before the assault of the well-appointed soldiers carleill could land from the ships. san domingo proved a great disappointment to the captors. it had at one time been the seat of a considerable export trade of bullion from the mines of the island. but, though our men did not know it, these had been long exhausted or deserted in favour of the far richer mines of mexico and peru. the well-to-do inhabitants of san domingo were planters who had little ready money, or the lawyers of the court of appeal. after several weeks spent in haggling, and in burning part of the town, the english were constrained to accept of , ducats of s. d. each as ransom for the town, a much smaller sum than they had hoped to obtain. from san domingo they went on to carthagena on the mainland of south america, at that time a small unfortified town of a few hundred inhabitants. entering the land-locked harbour by the boca grande, the english made themselves masters of carthagena, after storming its only defence--a wooden stockade. here their experience at san domingo was repeated. the spaniards had received warning of the approach of a hostile expedition, and had had time to remove their bullion into the country. after a good deal more haggling, , ducats were extorted as the ransom of the town. the results of the expedition had been disappointing, but the fleet had nothing for it but to return home without further delay. a fever had broken out at santiago, and the health of the crews had suffered still more severely from the tropical malaria of the coast. including those who fell in action, it was calculated that more than half of the men forming the expedition lost their lives. the total product of the cruise was £ , . of this, £ , was due to the adventurers, and the remaining third was to be divided between the soldiers and sailors who manned the ships. this can have given only about £ a head to those who had risked their lives and had survived the fevers and the weapons of the spaniards. the adventurers cannot have done much more than cover the expenses of fitting out their ships. we are now approaching perhaps the most famous passage, and certainly the most picturesque, in the naval history of england. from the beginning of england was threatened by invasion from spain, throughout she was taking measures to avert the danger, and in the great armada, which has been baptized in sarcasm with the name of invincible, actually approached our shores, and then passed away to destruction without having as much as burned one sheepcote in this island. it was the habit of philip ii. to be very slow in his preparations. his flatterers, knowing the kind of praise that would give him pleasure, described him as thorough and prudent. in point of fact, the course he followed was singularly inefficient and practically rather rash. it would have cost philip less, and would have redounded much more to his glory, if he had armed three or four well-appointed squadrons of active ships to protect his galleons on their way across the atlantic, and to keep the west indies clear of invaders. it must be obvious that if fifteen or twenty spanish warships had made their appearance in the neighbourhood of san domingo while the english soldiers were disembarked for the purpose of attacking the town, the squadron could hardly have escaped destruction, and in that case the soldiers must sooner or later have shared the fate of those members of hawkins's crew who were left behind in mexico in , to the "little mercy" of the spaniards. but when a small active squadron would have been of immense service to philip, he had nothing but the first beginnings of the raw material of the great fleet with which he intended one day to exterminate the power of elizabeth. his admiral, don Álvaro de bazan, the marquis of santa cruz, told him, when the news of the sailing of the expedition of came, that there was nothing to prevent drake from sweeping the west indies, or from entering the pacific, and there doing as he pleased with the ill-armed and unprepared spanish settlements. king philip had ships and guns and men enough among his subjects, but when they were wanted, the guns were not in the ships and the crews were not collected. thus the "potent" king of spain, as he was called, and as he might have been with better management, had to sit helpless while a privateering fleet ranged at will through his possessions and plundered his subjects. as it was in , so it was in and : philip was toiling laboriously to collect his armament, but as he would not put the various parts together till he had collected all he wanted, no portion of his inchoate fighting forces was ready on a sudden call. there are few more ludicrous passages in history than the cruise of drake in . queen elizabeth and her ministers were aware that preparations were being made for an invasion of england. although the queen's passion for intrigue induced her to keep up a laborious show of friendly negotiations with the prince of parma, philip's viceroy in the low countries, she did not in practice forget that she was at war. in the spring of she decided to despatch sir francis drake for the purpose of looking into the preparations reported to be making in the spanish ports. as in , the queen bore only a part of the expenses. of the thirty ships despatched, four, the =bonaventure=, the =lion=, the =dreadnought=, and the =rainbow=, with two pinnaces attached as tenders, belonged to the royal navy; the others were "tall ships" of london, not hired by the queen, but joined in partnership with her for the purpose of making what profit they could by plundering the spaniards. drake sailed from plymouth early in april, and in the th degree of latitude he learned from two german merchant ships that great quantities of naval stores were being collected at cadiz to be transported to lisbon, where the king of spain's "admiral of the ocean sea," don Álvaro de bazan, had his headquarters. portugal, it may not be superfluous to remind the reader, had been annexed a few years before by philip ii., who claimed to be the heir of dom sebastian, slain at the battle of alcázar el kebir, and it continued to be joined to the many other crowns of the king of spain till . drake immediately made for cadiz, where he found the outer harbour crowded with ships. these were the vessels which were designed to take part in the invasion of england. but, by a piece of ineptitude of a kind not at all rare in philip's reign, they were for the most part unmanned. it was easy work for the thirty efficient ships to capture, burn, sink, or drive on shore such of these vessels as were not able to make a timely escape into the inner harbour. the work was done thoroughly, and to the no small profit of the adventurers. enormous quantities of booty were transferred from the spanish to the english ships; and although they were subject to an irritating fire from the distant spanish batteries, and to attack by the galleys, the english sailors met with little difficulty in the discharge of their task. the work was hard, and the men are said to have been really glad when the spaniards set fire to the vessels which had not yet fallen into our hands, and thereby put a stop to the toil of collecting more plunder. nothing more disgraceful to the management of philip ii., nothing which more fully revealed the essential weakness of his power, could well have happened. from cadiz drake stretched along the coast to lisbon, landing as he pleased, and plundering as he thought fit. at the mouth of the tagus he anchored and sent in a challenge to the marquis of santa cruz. but the king's admiral, though he was a man of great natural courage and of an enterprising character, could not accept it, for his vessels were in no condition to take the sea without the stores burned at cadiz. from cascaes drake stood across to the azores, and lay there undisturbed on the track of the carracks, the great merchant ships employed by the portuguese at that time in the trade with the east indies. one of these, named the _st. philip_, fell into his hands. she was the first of these ships ever taken by us, and the sight of her cargo must have had a good deal to do with arousing the desire of english merchants to share in the trade of the east. this capture, added to the plunder taken at cadiz, secured the profits of the voyage, and therefore drake made sail for england with his fleet and the prize, where they all arrived "to their own profit and due commendation, and the great admiration of the whole kingdom." this check did not make philip any wiser than before, but neither did it in any way damp his determination to collect such a fleet as should make an end of the english pirates. he began the work of getting his stores together again with imperturbable patient industry. drake described his feat in the outer harbour of cadiz as the singeing of the king of spain's beard, and the phrase was accurate as well as humorous. he had insulted the enemy, and had done him as much injury as would compel him to abstain from action for the time being, but he had not seriously crippled his power. by the spring of the following year the spanish fleet was ready for service, and if don Álvaro de bazan had lived, it might have sailed sooner than it actually did. the old man's own plan, communicated to the king some years before, had been to embark a sufficient army in spain, and sail direct to the coast of england, but the resources of king philip were not adequate to a scheme of the scale proposed by his admiral. he had to maintain an army under the prince of parma in flanders, and could not meet the expense of organising another. he had therefore decided to make the fleet he was collecting in spain co-operate with the army he already had in the low countries. it was indeed to carry reinforcements to the prince of parma, but it was on him that the task of providing an army for the invasion of england was to be laid. the spaniards have always counted it fortunate for england that the marquis de santa cruz died on the th february . perhaps it was, though it may be doubted whether the very complicated task set by the king could have been successfully performed even by him. to bring a fleet from spain into the channel, to carry it to the low countries, to embark an army there and transport it to the coast of england, would have made a long and complicated operation, to be conducted in difficult seas, of which the spaniards had little knowledge, and in the face of the most determined opposition from dutch and english seamen. however that may be, the spaniards were deprived of such chance of victory as they might have had under the command of the "iron marquis" by his death; and then the king, acting on motives which are not a little mysterious, selected from among his subjects as leader of this great enterprise perhaps the gentleman who was more fitted than any other then living to lead it to ruin. this was don alonso perez de guzman, duke of medina sidonia. he was a youngish man, small, of a swarthy complexion, and somewhat bandy-legged, who, according to his own candid and somewhat pitiful confession to the king, knew nothing of war by land or sea, was always sea-sick when he went in a vessel, and never failed to catch cold. what qualification he had, beyond his illustrious lineage and his great estates, for a high command nobody has ever been able to discover. these were no doubt to be taken into account at a time when obedience was more readily rendered to a gentleman of great social position than to others; but there were men of the duke's own rank among philip's subjects who had served, and were at least not manifestly unfit for the post. but the king chose the duke of medina sidonia, and, overcoming his manifest reluctance to take the command, sent him to succeed the marquis de santa cruz. it was in reality consistent enough with the duke's first unwillingness to take the post, that, once in it, he had not the smallest hesitation in contradicting the advice and overruling the decisions of his veteran predecessor. he declared that what had seemed enough for santa cruz was not enough; he wanted more ships, more men, more stores; and thus the fleet, which ought to have started in february, did not leave the tagus till may. during all this time the stores already collected began to go rotten and had to be replaced. the pressed-men ran, and others had to be found; and so delay bred delay, and the months passed in mere waste alike of time and material. on our own side there were also defects of management, not, however, attributable to the officers in command, but partly to the poverty of the queen's government, and partly to the vacillations of the queen. elizabeth, it must not be forgotten, was a very poor sovereign, and the maintenance of a great fleet was a heavy drain upon her resources. moreover, she had an artistic love of tricks. she could not be thoroughly persuaded that it was hopeless to expect to avert the spanish invasion by artful diplomacy. therefore, between her impatience under the expenses of the fleet and her profound belief in her own cleverness, she vacillated all through the spring of that eventful year. her ships had been brought into excellent order by john hawkins. her subjects were full of zeal; and although the smaller ports met the demand for ships with loud complaints of poverty and of the ruin of their trade by war, yet london freely offered twice as many vessels and men as the crown asked for, while the nobles and those adventurers of the stamp of drake and hawkins, who had grown rich at the expense of the spaniards, were active in fitting out vessels and collecting crews. the queen's lord high admiral, charles howard, lord effingham, was as fit a man for the place as could have been found. he had, it is true, no experience in war; and it does not appear, from anything recorded of him, that he was a man of much ability. but he had character and tact, and the happy faculty of allowing himself to be guided by his abler and more experienced subordinates, without suffering his authority to be diminished. by the mouth of howard, elizabeth's captains implored her for leave to repeat the cruise for . they pointed out that, if we must fight the spaniard, it was better to fight him on his own coast than ours, and, moreover, it was safer, since, even if we were to be beaten, defeat would be less dangerous a long way off than at home. but elizabeth would not part with the hope that her diplomacy, which had stood her in such admirable stead during the twenty-eight years of her reign, would serve her again, and she would not allow her fleet to sail for an attack upon spain, which must necessarily have broken off the negotiations of peace. still, the preparations for war were not neglected. the admiral of england, lord howard, with drake as vice and hawkins as rear admiral, had his headquarters at plymouth, while lord henry seymour commanded the ships of london and the east coast, in the thames. on the approach of the enemy, his station was to be in the downs, where he was to watch the duke of parma, who was collecting the army of invasion in the flemish ports. in this work seymour had the help of a squadron of dutch vessels, commanded by justinus of nassau, a natural son of william the silent. at the end of may the duke of medina sidonia did at last sail. all his demands had been supplied by the king. his banners had been solemnly blessed by the cardinal albert--the cardinal who was viceroy of portugal; all his officers and men had taken the communion and confessed their sins; and at last the armada was on the way, with assurances from the king that "it must succeed, since god would not fail to help it on an enterprise so much for his service as this was." when cromwell told his soldiers to trust in god, he also added the order to keep their powder dry; in other words, not to allow their reliance on divine assistance to tempt them into neglecting ordinary human precautions. king philip was lavish in good advice and intelligent direction, but he was neither so practical as oliver cromwell, nor would he take equally good care that what he directed his men to do should be within their power. it was worthy of a king who, throughout the whole of his life, was endeavouring to achieve vast ends with very insufficient means, that philip sent his fleet out with the knowledge that it suffered from a great cause of inferiority, but without making the slightest effort to remove the defect. he knew that the gunnery of his crews was altogether inferior to the english, and that his guns were not so good. therefore, as he warned the duke of medina sidonia, it was to be expected that the english ships would endeavour to engage at a distance, and would avoid coming so close that the spaniards would have a chance of boarding them. it was also not unknown to philip that the english ships sailed better than his own, and that therefore it would be in their power to choose the distance at which they would engage. yet, instead of providing quicker ships and better guns, and of training more skilful gunners, he could only advise his admiral to come to close quarters with the english fleet without telling him how the feat was to be achieved. the very first experience of his fleet after leaving lisbon ought to have shown him how little hope there was that the unlucky duke of medina sidonia would have it in his power to engage the english except on their own terms. by a curious coincidence, lord howard and the duke left port at about the same time; the lord admiral sailing from plymouth to the south and west in order to meet the coming spaniards, and medina sidonia sailing from lisbon towards england. had no accident intervened, they would probably have met in the neighbourhood of the scilly isles. a few days after the duke had left lisbon, a gale broke out from the south-west. it affected both fleets,--the spaniards, who had just rounded cape finisterre, and the english, who were at the mouth of the channel. but whereas these latter were only hindered, the invincible armada was completely scattered. the duke had given his fleet only one rendezvous in case of an accident of this kind, and that was the neighbourhood of the scilly isles. the squadron of _urcas_, or storeships, which accompanied his fleet held on to the appointed place, and there remained. but the heavy galleons were so maltreated by the wind that they were scattered along the coast. the duke himself anchored at corunna, and there collected his ships after some days of confusion. a whole month passed before he was ready to go to sea again. he himself was so dispirited that he actually proposed to advise the king to give the enterprise up altogether, and was only restrained from writing to that effect by the strenuous efforts of a council of war. meanwhile, lord howard, after being driven back by the gale, had taken to the sea again, and had despatched a squadron to reconnoitre towards the coast of spain, while the bulk of his fleet was stretched across the mouth of the channel, in order to be the better able to catch sight of the enemy if he endeavoured to pass. nothing was seen of the spaniards, and lord howard returned to plymouth. although undoubtedly better fitted than the invincible armada, the english ships were not without wants of their own. in the hope of diminishing expenses, or perhaps rather from the difficulty found in collecting provisions, it was thought necessary to put the men "six on four," that is to say, that each set of six men received the rations of four. it is doubtful whether the gaol fever, which broke out later on, had already appeared, but the health of the fleet was not good. from cecil there came incessant appeals to keep down "charges," and complaints that, no matter how much money was sent, he was worried out of his life by appeals for more, to the no small aggravation of the gout, from which he suffered cruelly. this idle hope to diminish expense, at a moment when england had need to spend every man and every penny, led the treasurer, and perhaps elizabeth, to propose a measure of enormous practical folly. it was actually proposed to the lord admiral to pay off four or five of his biggest ships on his return to plymouth. howard, with patriotic indignation, professed that he would rather pay the expenses out of his own pocket. the proposal was never carried out, for the spanish fleet appeared off the lizard. medina sidonia sailed from corunna on the th of july. this date and all the others must be understood to be in the old style used by us, and not in the new or gregorian employed by the spaniards. the strength of the spanish fleet is put at ships of , tons, carrying , men, of whom , were soldiers and were sailors. it is doubtful whether all these vessels were actually present after the various disasters the armada had already experienced. the four galleys must be deducted from its strength. they proved perfectly incapable of facing the winds and currents of the channel, and were compelled to take refuge in french ports. nearly a third of the others were _urcas_, and of no use for fighting purposes. the whole was divided into ten squadrons. the first in dignity--for it included the flagship of medina sidonia--was the squadron of portugal, consisting of ten galleons. then followed the squadron of castile, of fourteen sail, under the direct command of diego flores de valdes. this officer had commanded the yearly _flota_, or convoy, which went to and fro between spain and its american possession, carrying the trade; on account of his experience as a seaman, diego flores had been especially recommended to medina sidonia as his adviser, and sailed with him in the flagship. his character seems to have been envious, and, whatever he may have done to supply the duke's deficiencies as a seaman, he proved an indifferent military adviser. pedro de valdes commanded the squadron of andalusia, of ten ships. the squadron of biscay was of the same strength, and the flag officer in command was juan martinez de recalde, who was also senior admiral of the whole fleet, by which we may perhaps understand that he was the officer responsible for the navigation, subject to the directions of medina sidonia. miguel de oquendo led the ten ships forming the squadron of guipuzcoa. the squadron of italy, under martin de bertendona, was of the same force. twenty-three _urcas_ or storeships were under the command of juan gomez de medina, while a miscellaneous swarm of other small craft were under antonio hurtado de mendoza. four galleasses, great overgrown galleys, formed a squadron apart, under hugo de moncada. the four galleys under diego de medrado proved, as has been said above, useless from the first, and never took any share in the fighting in the channel. they were driven by the weather to seek refuge in french ports, and were able, later on, to return in safety to spain. although the names of the various kinds of ships forming the armada are strange, the vessels themselves, with the exception of the galleasse, described above, were not essentially different from our own. the "galleon" was, for instance, only our "capital ship." although it has been customary to speak of the spanish ships as exceeding ours in bulk, it does not appear that any of them were larger than the best of the queen's--the =white bear=, for instance, or the =triumph=, or the =ark=. some twenty or twenty-five of our largest were equal to eighty or ninety of the spaniards in average size, and far superior in seaworthiness. the smaller ships were equal to their smaller in size, and vastly superior in number. in the number of guns, also, the superiority of the spaniards was much more apparent than real. there is a doubt as to the actual excess in the number of the spanish cannon over the english. on the other hand, modern spanish writers have endeavoured to show that the english had the advantage in the point of weight. it is, however, easy to make too much of this. the number of cannons royal, and even of demi-cannon, in the english navy was not great. the large majority of our guns were culverins and demi-culverins of about the same calibre as the guns carried by the spaniards. for practical purposes, however, the english had really a greater number of cannon, for it is beyond doubt that the fire of our gunners was both more rapid and better directed. the spaniards themselves confessed that we fired three to one. it is self-evident that a gun which is fired three times in five minutes is, for the purpose of doing damage, quite as effectual as three guns which are fired once each in the same space of time. the spaniards, indeed, looked down upon the use of artillery as being somewhat ignoble. the management of the guns was left entirely to the sailors, who were a despised and subordinate element in the crews of their ships. it does not seem that they had any class of gunners. when, then, we remember that the spanish ships were ill fitted for the navigation of the channel, and that their seamen had no knowledge of its waters, it will be seen that even with good leadership they would have been at a disadvantage. when we turn to our own fleet, the conditions are completely reversed. in mere material force, that is to say, in the number of capital ships and of guns, we were inferior, but in every other respect we had the superiority. we had experience, familiarity with the waters in which the fighting was to take place, and a far higher level of skill in gunnery. the value of the fleet, the fighting instrument, must depend on the skill of the men by whom it is used, that is to say, of the seamen. now, whereas the spanish sailor was, as has been said above, subordinate and despised, the english seaman had conquered his due place of superiority in the fleet. but, after all, the greatest element of superiority on our side was to be found in the quality of the leaders. lord howard of effingham, without being a man of extraordinary ability, had a valuable mixture of intellectual docility and vigour of character. and his subordinates, drake, hawkins, and frobisher, were all in various degrees capable men. the subordinate leaders among the spaniards were not unworthy to compete with our own. pedro de valdes, martinez de recalde, and miguel de oquendo, not to mention many others, were able officers, but they were not listened to by the duke of medina sidonia, whose conduct presented a familiar combination of vacillation and obstinacy. he alternately allowed himself to be earwigged by his official adviser, diego flores, or insisted upon having his way when the advice of any seaman would have saved him from committing a blunder. the number of ships with lord howard at plymouth was about a hundred, including all the best of the queen's. the other vessels, which altogether amounted to nearly another hundred, were either still in the ports along the channel, or were collecting, under the command of lord henry seymour and sir william winter, in the thames and the downs. the orders the duke of medina sidonia had received from his king were both intelligent and explicit. he had been told that his first duty was to cripple or destroy, if he could, the english fleet, and that the transport of parma's army was only to be a secondary object. a large discretion was very properly left him in the carrying out of his duties, while the general principles upon which he was to act were made quite clear. how the duke contrived to disobey at once the letter and the spirit of his orders will be seen from the following narrative. on the th of july his fleet reached the lizard, after eight days of easy navigation from corunna, which he had left upon the th. as not infrequently happens in the case of a long-expected danger, the actual crisis was a surprise. when the spaniards were reported to be in the neighbourhood of the lizard, lord howard was lying with the whole of his fleet in plymouth sound. as the spaniards came up with a good south-westerly breeze, they had, if they had known how to use it, a great opportunity to strike with advantage. the same breeze which brought them up made it extremely difficult for the english to get out, since the wind was blowing across the sound. if, then, the duke had kept straight on and had steered boldly into plymouth sound, he might have forced the english to battle under circumstances highly favourable to himself, for in a confined anchorage the english ships could not have manoeuvred, nor would it have been within their power to choose their distance. the heavy spanish galleons could have run them aboard, and then the fight must have been conducted in conditions which it was the interest of the spaniards to seek. from the report of one captain vanegas, a military officer serving in the flagship, it appears that the proposal to sail in and attack the english in plymouth sound was actually made to medina sidonia by alonso de leiva, but it was rejected with the advice of a council of war, on the ground that the spanish fleet could not attack in a line abreast, because of the shoals at the mouth of the sound (those upon which the breakwater now stands); while if they entered in line ahead, that is to say, one ship following another through the channels on either side of the shoal, they would be destroyed in detail by the fire of the english ships and forts. this was a line of reasoning, and these were dangers, which, fortunately for us, were destined to have a powerful influence with our enemies, both french and spanish, for centuries. in reality, the perils of an attack in line ahead were greatly exaggerated, and, even if it had been necessary for the duke of medina sidonia to sacrifice a few ships, the results would have repaid the cost. but the spanish leader, who could over-ride his professional advisers roughly enough when he pleased, was on this occasion slavishly obedient to the advice of the mere seamen, when it would have been better for him to have listened to the bolder council of the military officer. he stood on past plymouth, and by that action he decided the fate of the armada. from the moment that his approach had been reported, the most strenuous efforts had been made on the part of the english fleet to get to sea. working all through the night of the th and the morning of the st, they had warped out a large part of the ships. while they were carrying out this movement, undeterred by the spaniards, medina sidonia was rolling slowly up channel. on the st july, so soon, in fact, as he was out of harbour, howard stood after the spaniards and sent them in the old chivalrous fashion a solemn defiance to battle. he despatched a pinnace appropriately named the =defiance=, with orders to fire a gun at the spaniard as a symbolical announcement that it was open war. then a confused action began between the two fleets. the spaniards were advancing along the channel in a long half-moon, or concave line abreast, stretching seven miles from north to south. this formation, which was copied from the galleys, was absurdly ill fitted for vessels carrying a broadside of guns, since it is clear that he who is between two ships of his own side can fire neither to right nor to left without injuring his own friends. such a blundering arrangement almost dictated to lord howard the course it was most convenient for him to adopt. he attacked the two extremities of the spanish line. it is probable that the english ships more or less roughly carried out the method of attack which has been described as "concentration by defiling"; that is to say, they ran down from windward till within easy gunshot, then they fired into the stern and quarter of the galleons at the extremity of the spanish wing, and hauled to windward so soon as there was any danger of coming too near, or of heading, and therefore falling to leeward of, their enemy. under the pressure of such an attack as this, the extremities of the spanish half-moon would naturally flinch inwards, and the danger of collision between the ships thus thrown out of their order of sailing would be very serious. we know as a matter of fact that the ships at the extremity of the spanish line did suffer very severely. one, the _sta catalina_, was very much cut up. oquendo's flagship was crippled by an explosion of gunpowder, said to have been caused by a flemish gunner in revenge for some ill usage. but the most serious loss to the spaniards, both materially and in honour, occurred in the squadron of andalusia. the _nuestra señora del rosario_ was the flagship of pedro de valdes, one of the best and ablest officers in king philip's service. in the confusion produced throughout the spanish fleet by the english attack, the _rosario_ had been run into and crippled by another ship of the squadron. her bowsprit was carried away and the foremast brought down. in this state valdes was incapable of keeping up with the fleet unless he was towed. but no help was afforded him. at sundown, apparently immediately after the accident had happened, the duke signalled to the fleet to hold on its course, and stood up channel before the westerly wind. pedro de valdes was left to his fate, which not only might have been, but was, foreseen by every ship in the armada. there is a general agreement among the witnesses on the spanish side, who are many and circumstantial, that the desertion of the flagship of the squadron of andalusia spread a profound discouragement. there was not a man in the fleet who did not say to himself, "if so good an officer as pedro de valdes is deserted, what can the rest of us expect if we are disabled?" during the night lord howard followed the spaniards close, but was not himself accompanied by the rest of the fleet. drake had been ordered to carry the guiding light for the night, but, tempted by the sight of some vessels passing him to the westward, he had turned back, thinking, or professing to think, that they formed a part of the spanish fleet endeavouring to escape out of the channel. lord howard mistook the light of the spaniards for that of his own vice-admiral. meanwhile the rest of the english fleet, having lost the guiding light, lay to. thus when day broke we were all scattered, though fortunately all to windward, and the different parts of our force were most characteristically placed. the gallant and disinterested lord howard was in dangerous proximity to the enemy, the bulk of the english fleet was lying off some distance in safety, but drake, the ex-slaver and buccaneer, was close to the crippled spaniard--a prize which he could seize at no great cost of danger or trouble to himself. pedro de valdes, being surrounded on all sides, had no resource but to surrender at discretion, and the _rosario_ was sent into weymouth. the remainder of the nd passed without any incident of note. by the following day the spaniards had rolled slowly along to portland. here they seemed about to enjoy a change of fortune. by this time, indeed, they had begun to understand that it was upon fortune they must depend for a chance of bringing the english to battle on terms fairly favourable to themselves. the operations of the st had convinced them of the great superiority of the english fleet in weatherliness. when, then, on the morning of the rd the wind shifted to the n.e. and thereby gave the spaniards an opportunity of securing the weather-gage, they were flattered by a prospect of taking their revenge. a part of the english were between them and the shore. the spaniards turned in the confident hope of catching their slippery enemy between the "sword and the wall," to use their own expressive idiom. but they were not to enjoy any favour of fortune on this campaign. just when a close engagement seemed to be inevitable, the wind again swept round to the west, transferring the weather-gage once more to the english. the duke resumed his course to the east, and the english fell back a short space, and then again followed their lumbering enemy, looking keenly for every chance to strike him with advantage. nothing of note is recorded to have happened on the th, unless it be that complaints were heard of want of powder in the fleet. in the meantime the country had become thoroughly aroused. the spaniards had seen the beacon fires blazing on the hills of devon on the night of the th, and before daylight those flames had leapt from hill-top to hill-top-- "from eddystone to berwick bounds, from lynn to milford bay." volunteers swarmed down to the fleet. as english and spaniards rolled heavily along the channel, ships slipped out from the different ports to reinforce howard. to the eastward, lord henry seymour and sir william winter were concentrating their squadrons in the downs, while the squadrons of holland and zeeland, united under the command of justinus of nassau, were blocking every port in spanish flanders. it was one of the most fatal of the misconceptions of the spaniard that he had hoped to draw help from those very harbours which the son of william the silent was blockading. on the th of july, medina sidonia despatched a quick-sailing ship in advance to the duke of parma, informing him of his own approach, and begging him to come out, in order that they might combine their forces. the spanish fleet was then off the isle of wight. it was the day of st. dominic, founder of the dominican order, and a member of the house of guzman. the duke of medina sidonia, as was only natural in a roman catholic, and a gentleman of a family which had produced so eminent a saint, was in expectation that the anniversary would be marked by some signal manifestation of divine assistance. but none came. lord howard was so little disturbed by his enemy, and, we may add, was so little anxious to force on a battle with him, that he spent some part of the day in conferring the honour of knighthood on lord thomas howard, lord sheffield, roger townsend, hawkins, and frobisher. there was indeed some fighting, but the day was calm, with very light breezes from the west, and the engagement was a mere artillery duel, which in times of rude gunnery meant a great waste of powder and shot. on the th there was no action, and next day the spaniards anchored in the roads of calais. in his own belief and in that of most of his contemporaries, the duke of medina sidonia had now carried out one main purpose of his expedition. he had come to a place at which, if distance and their own relative position were alone to be considered, he could effect his meeting with the duke of parma. from calais, therefore, he sent another officer, urging the prince to come out at once with his seventeen thousand soldiers. as a matter of fact, however, the duke of parma was unable to move. the vessels he had been building to serve as transports were in no state to go to sea, and if they had been they could not have moved, for the prince had few sailors, and the dutch squadron, numerous and well appointed, was waiting for him outside. alexander farnese, who does not seem ever to have had any effective belief in the advisability of invading england, made a show of embarking his men, but until the dutch blockading squadrons were cleared away this was a mere parade, and there was no naval force at hand to drive them off. as on a famous occasion in our own later history, the duke of medina sidonia waited for the duke of parma, while the duke of parma, for his part, stood waiting for the duke of medina sidonia. so the th and the th of july wore away. meanwhile, howard had been joined by lord henry seymour and sir william winter, and a council of war was held on the flagship, the =ark royal=. at this council it was decided to do some service against the spaniards at anchor by fireships. seven vessels were filled with combustibles and primed with powder. these preparations did not pass unperceived by the enemy, and it was at least suggested to the duke of medina sidonia to prepare pinnaces with grappling irons for the purpose of towing off any fireships the english might send among them. ever since a weapon of this kind had been used against them at the siege of antwerp, the spaniards had regarded the fireship with considerable fear. but measures of precaution were either not taken at all, or were taken very ill. after dark, and when the tide was flowing strongly, the fireships were sent in before the westerly wind. an instantaneous panic broke out in the spanish fleet. the whole swarm of ships hurried to escape their assailants by getting up anchor and running away to leeward. the better disciplined ships, in which the officers of experience and volunteers of noble birth were numerous, weighed anchor, and moved off in some order. the others cut their cables, and ran for it in great confusion. collisions were common. one great galleasse, the flagship of don hugo de moncada, had her rudder unshipped, and was stranded while endeavouring to get into calais harbour. here the greater part of her crew deserted her. the remainder, under the command of don hugo, made a gallant fight for it against the swarm of english boats, till moncada fell shot through the head with a harquebus bullet, when the others surrendered. wild confusion prevailed throughout the rest of the now beaten fleet. the vessels which had cut their cables drifted away to leeward, for, as the spaniards at that time carried no anchors on deck except those at the catheads, they could not hoist others out in time from the hold, and had no means of bringing themselves up. thus, when the day broke, such of medina sidonia's vessels as were in a position to anchor were separated by miles from the great majority, which the tide had carried far to leeward. the duke got under way, and ought to have run down to leeward. but, having been yielding when he ought to have been firm, he was, after the not uncommon habit of timid men, obstinate when he might very well have yielded. he stood out to sea with the galleons immediately about him, and signalled for the rest of his fleet to join him. as they had to tack against the wind, this movement could not be executed by most of them in less than many hours. the isolated position of the spanish commander was at once obvious to the english admirals, and their whole force fell upon the part of the spanish fleet nearest them. this was the hottest day's fighting of the whole campaign. the english were confident, and threw aside some of the caution they had hitherto displayed. they came to close quarters, and their artillery did heavy damage to their enemies. no spanish ship was actually taken, but one was seen to sink, and others were so crippled that they drifted out of action and sought refuge in the flemish ports held by the duke of parma. these, with few exceptions, became prizes to the dutch. when the battle of gravelines was over, the armada was beaten. it had not suffered very severe loss in numbers, but it had become convinced both of its own inferiority in manoeuvring power to its opponents, and of the utter incapacity of its chief. he, for his part, was thoroughly sick of his command, and was already in a humour to tell the king, as he did on his arrival in spain, that he would rather have his head cut off than meddle with the command of fleets again. in truth, neither fleet was in a condition to continue the action. the english had exhausted their gunpowder, and the gaol fever was extending with dreadful rapidity. there was also a want of provisions, for which the queen's government has been severely, and perhaps not altogether justly, blamed by historians. if the queen and lord burleigh were eager to keep down expenses, it must be remembered that the crown was very poor. the resources required to keep a great fleet on foot for any length of time could only be obtained by an appeal to parliament. the political difficulties of her position made elizabeth at all times unwilling to put herself in the position of having to make a bargain with the house of commons, which was certain to exact concessions in return for supplies of money. at such a time, indeed, nothing ought to have been allowed to stand in the way of the defence of the country, or to prevent the fair treatment of the officers and men serving in the fleet. yet there is no reason to suppose that elizabeth and her lord treasurer were careless of their duty; but the government of the time had very little experience in the maintenance of great military forces. the naval administration was in a rudimentary condition, and it may very well be that the want of powder and provisions and the very irregular payment of wages were due rather to awkwardness and ignorance, helped perhaps by dishonesty on the part of subordinates, than to meanness in elizabeth. the fleet which in the following year was sent to the coast of spain to retaliate for the spanish invasion suffered much from the want of food and from pestilence. yet it was organised not by the queen, but by a committee of adventurers, who had every motive to fit it out well, since they must needs rely upon its efficiency to repay them by the capture of spanish prizes. however the blame must be divided, the fact remains that within a few days after the battle of gravelines the english fleet was in danger of being paralysed by the want of necessary stores, and by the unmanning of the ships through sickness and desertion. the english fleet had the resource of retiring to its own harbours, but there was no such escape for the spaniards. there was no port of their own available for the heavy ships nearer than the bay of biscay. parma did indeed advise the duke to betake himself to the free city of hamburg, where, as he was well provided with money, he would have no difficulty in finding stores, and from whence he could issue later on for the purpose either of renewing the attack on england, or of co-operating in a serious effort to reduce holland and zeeland. whatever the worth of the advice may have been, and whether it was physically practicable or not, the duke of medina sidonia was in no condition to act upon it. he had become completely cowed. indeed, he had just had a demonstration of the utter unfitness of his fleet for the work his master the king had sent him to perform. the battle of gravelines was followed by strong breezes, for they do not seem to have attained to the dignity of a storm, from the s. and s.w. under the impulse of these winds, the heavier ships of the armada began to drift on the shallows of the coast of zeeland. by the confession of the spaniards, their vessels were wholly at the mercy of the wind and the currents. they drifted along quite unable to help themselves, and only a lucky shift of the wind saved them from going ashore. when the wind did turn to a point more favourable to them, the spanish ships, still very little diminished in number, but entirely broken in spirit, straggled out into the north sea, and then, by the command of the duke of medina sidonia, all stood to the northward for the purpose of making their way back to spain by the west of the british isles. when the armada was seen to be in retreat, howard told off lord henry seymour to remain in the downs for the purpose of operating with justinus of nassau in the blockade of parma's ports. he himself followed the spaniards as far north as the firth of forth. that he made no attack upon them, shows either that his own vessels were wholly destitute of stores, or that the enemy still inspired him with an amount of respect not justified by their real condition. at the firth of forth, howard left the enemy and returned to the mouth of the thames. for a time there was a belief that the duke of parma might still sally out, and there was even in the opinion of some of our leaders a fear that the armada might return. it was not, indeed, until months afterwards that the world began to know what had been the fate of the king of spain's great fleet. it had stood to the north until the pilots, by whose advice the duke of medina sidonia acted, thought it safe to turn to the west, and up to this period it had apparently not suffered much. nine vessels had in all been lost by capture or abandonment to the enemy. but on the way home fifty-four perished by shipwreck. almost from the very day in which the galleons and _urcas_ of the king of spain turned the north of scotland on their way home, they were subjected to a succession of storms of extraordinary violence for the season of the year. being ill provided with pilots and charts, as well as essentially unseaworthy, they were quite unable to struggle with the violence of the weather. nineteen vessels were wrecked on the coasts of scotland and ireland. those of the spaniards who were wrecked within the dominions of queen elizabeth were massacred by orders of her officers, many of them being put to death in cold blood, after they had been received to quarter. about one-half of the king of spain's ships were lost. those which reached his ports were almost unmanned, for the scurvy broke out during the miseries of the return home, and, as the provisions were exhausted, the crews died from actual starvation. few of the leaders lived to return home. alonso de leiva perished in the wreck of the _rata_. oquendo and martinez de recalde did indeed live to cast anchor in spanish waters, but they died almost immediately afterwards from the effect of the sufferings they had endured, and the shame of the great disaster. the duke of medina sidonia spent his time, while returning to spain, sitting in his cabin with his face buried in his hands, in complete prostration and stupor, while diego flores and don francisco de bobadilla carried on the duties of commander. the duke had left spain a very prosperous gentleman; he returned a white-haired old man. the failure of the armada was naturally a very conspicuous event in the opinion of that and succeeding generations. it was the visible deliverance of england, and with her of the protestants of europe. the piety of the time accounted for the failure of the mighty armament by saying that god had blown upon it, and it had been scattered. this verdict has not always been accepted by the rationalism or the patriotism of modern times, and yet it may be said to be essentially true. the armada failed through its own weakness and the incapacity of its chief. with the single exception of their use of the fireships in calais roads, the english leaders did nothing to force the duke of medina sidonia into a disadvantageous position. he put himself into the worst position by his own acts. when he did decide to retreat, the material strength of his fleet was hardly impaired. it was the moral strength that was gone, and that partly through the discovery that the ships were very ill fitted for their work, and partly because the spaniards had discovered the hopeless incapacity of their leader. even at the last moment, when the spaniards had been saved by a mere shift in the wind from destruction on the banks of zeeland, lord howard showed no wish to come to close quarters with them. the supposition that he left them at the firth of forth because he foresaw they would perish on their way home, is inadmissible. lord howard cannot have known that the latter part of the month of august would be beyond precedent stormy. if the weather had been what it might have been expected to be, the loss of the spaniards would probably not have gone beyond a very few more vessels than those which had already been taken or driven on shore, or had fallen into the hands of the enemy in the channel. in that case, they would indeed have failed to effect an invasion of england; but the ships might have been refitted, and the armada would not have been considered to have suffered severely. thousands of men would no doubt have died from scurvy and want of food, but that was usual even with the successful naval expeditions of the time. as the english were then not familiar with the seas north of the firth of forth, it is possible that if lord howard had pursued the spaniards, his own ships would have suffered much, if not quite as much as the enemy. the storms did not cause the failure of the armada in the channel or the north sea, but they did produce its destruction. chapter iii from the armada to the death of the queen authorities.--in addition to the books quoted at the head of the last chapters, sir william monson's _naval tracts_, to be found in vol. iii. of churchill's _voyages_, are of great value for the later part of the great queen's reign. sir richard hawkins's account of his own voyage to the south seas contains much most valuable information as to the naval life of the time. it has been published by the hakluyt society. linschoten, printed in english by the same society, is valuable for the loss of the =revenge=, and for the picture it gives of the spanish and portuguese methods of conducting trade, and of their disasters. the accessible evidence for the voyages of the earl of cumberland is in purchas. southey took the cream off the narratives of elizabethan sea adventure in the _lives of the admirals_, written for the cabinet cyclopædia. being now delivered from all fear of an attack by spain, and at the same time persuaded that there was no hope of peace with philip till he was thoroughly broken, elizabeth's government retaliated for the armada by a vigorous raid on the coast of spain. in theory, the expedition was intended to do much more than merely harass the king of spain's coasts. there was an avowed intention to help the prior of ocrato, who claimed the throne of portugal, to recover the kingdom out of the hands of king philip. but the forces provided were quite insufficient for such a serious undertaking as the reconquest of portugal, although they were very large in proportion to the resources of england and her dutch allies. the dutch, in fact, who were threatened by a serious attack at home, were compelled to withhold a great part of the forces which they had promised to contribute. still, the expedition contained , troops and seamen. the command at sea was given to sir francis drake, and the command of the troops to the officer who had then the greatest military reputation in england, sir john norris. it did not, on the whole, prove successful. the withholding of the old english troops in the low countries made it necessary to rely wholly on new levies. they, as usual, proved untrustworthy. upwards of one-third of the men are said to have deserted before the expedition sailed at all. finding that if they delayed much longer they would probably be weakened to a much more dangerous extent, drake and norris put to sea on the th of april, and five days later landed in the neighbourhood of corunna, with the intention of taking the town. they had no difficulty in burning the suburbs, and in scattering a body of country militia brought down by the king's governor to attack them. but the upper town beat off all their attacks; and in the meantime the soldiers had broken into the stores of wine collected for export, and had drunk so freely that illness began to infest the squadron. corunna having beaten it off, the fleet now went on to the coast of portugal. her partners' desire for booty had once more hampered the execution of the queen's political purposes. every day wasted on the road to portugal gave king philip more time to prepare for defending his conquest, but the adventurers had need of the plunder of the town in order to cover their expenses, and therefore time was wasted in futile attempts to take a strongly fortified place without a battering-train. after the failure at corunna, drake and norris anchored at peniche, and there landed the troops who were still in a condition to render service. according to the plan, they were to march overland to lisbon, while drake promised to enter the tagus and meet them at the town. but the scheme broke down entirely. norris did indeed march to the gates of lisbon, but he found it far too strongly held to be attacked by him. the profuse promises made by dom antonio, the pretender, were completely falsified by experience. the crowds of partisans on whom he relied for help did not appear. drake found it impossible even to enter the tagus, a river with a very swift current, heavily fortified at the mouth. at last, norris, finding that he was in danger of attack by the troops collecting in the interior of the country, re-embarked his men, and the expedition returned home. it hung about on the coast for a time in the hope of picking up a few prizes, and it had a brush or two with the king of spain's galleys at the mouth of the tagus. in one of these, the galleys, aided by a dead calm, succeeded in cutting off and setting on fire one english vessel which carried a company of soldiers. but the spanish trade had been so completely frightened that it had no longer any ships at sea. the provisions began to run out. disease had made so much progress in the squadron that barely two thousand men were left fit for service. it finally returned home in the midst of very bad weather, having failed of its main purposes, but having also shown how entirely the destruction of the armada had prostrated the naval strength of the king of spain. an equally convincing proof of spanish weakness was given in the following year. a squadron of ten ships, all belonging to the queen, were sent out to the "isles," that is to say, to the azores and canaries, under the command of sir john hawkins and sir martin frobisher. this was a regular military expedition designed to interrupt the trade of spain with america, and if possible to cripple king philip by capturing his treasure-ships on their way home. so far as interrupting spanish trade was concerned, hawkins and frobisher were completely successful. so feeble was the great king of spain at sea, that he forbade his _flota_ to return home this year lest it should fall into the hands of the english cruisers. the loss to him was immense, as also to his subjects, but to us the stoppage of the spanish treasure-ships was a disappointment. it was not enough for elizabeth, who had great expenses to meet, to prevent the king of spain from receiving his silver. she had cherished the hope that at least some portion of it would fall into the hands of her officers. when, therefore, they cruised for seven long months without taking a single prize, great or small, the queen was in a very bad temper. it was on this occasion that sir john hawkins, when giving an account of his ill success, attempted to justify himself by use of his favourite biblical language. "paul," said the old sea-rover, "planteth and apollos watereth, but it is god who giveth the increase." this attempt to console her for the loss of her money, in the style of the puritans, whom she loathed with a peculiar detestation, was more than enough to provoke an explosion from the great queen. it is said that she broke out with "god's death! this fool went out a soldier, and is come home a divine." although queen elizabeth consoled herself for her disappointment by snubbing the unctuous piety of hawkins, she did not cease sending out these expeditions to the "isles." they were indeed the main course of the naval war of the rest of her reign. the object was to reduce philip to impotence by cutting off his supplies of treasure. as the ships which carried out the trade from spain and returned with the cargoes and bullion from the new world were under the necessity of stopping at the "isles" to water and refit, it was good policy to wait for them where they might be expected to be met with tolerable certainty. in order to make doubly sure, it was much the practice for the english ships to divide, some of them taking their station off cadiz, and others cruising near the azores. thus, if the spaniards missed the ships at the "isles," they might fall into the hands of the others at the mouth of the straits. the squadrons employed on this work did not consist wholly of the queen's ships. a large part of them belonged to private adventurers--either men of business who fitted out vessels as a commercial speculation, or gallant gentlemen of the stamp of the earl of cumberland, whose voyages are among the most brilliant made in the great queen's reign. none of these voyages to the "isles" proved as fully successful as the queen could have wished, but they did do enormous damage to the king of spain, and indirectly they had important permanent consequences for england. the voyage of was rendered extremely memorable by the famous last fight of the =revenge=. in this year the queen sent out her squadron under the command of lord thomas howard. it consisted of six ships, and it took up the cruising ground occupied to so little purpose by hawkins and frobisher in the previous year. by this time it had become impossible for the king of spain to delay his _flota_ again. orders had therefore been sent to come on at all hazards. foreseeing that his vessels would be in danger from the english at the azores, king philip had prepared another armament which was to sail from cadiz to meet the _flota_ in mid-voyage and escort it home. while howard was cruising at the azores, the earl of cumberland was on a private venture on the coast of spain. he sighted the spanish fleet on its way out from cadiz, and despatched a quick-sailing pinnace called the =moonshine= with a warning to howard. the =moonshine= found the english admiral at anchor in flores bay, with a great part of his men on shore watering, and some sick with the scurvy. the warning had barely been delivered to howard before the spanish fleet under the command of alonso de bazan, the brother of don Álvaro, was almost upon him. the roadstead of flores opens to the n.w., and the spanish fleet came round the western side of the island, tacking against the westerly wind. it would have been extremely rash in lord thomas howard to allow himself to be caught with his little handful of ships by so superior a force of the enemy in a position where he could not avoid attack. he therefore very properly prepared to stand out to sea without delay. it was of course impossible to desert the men on shore. they were provided for by leaving the =revenge=, the flagship of sir richard grenville, the second in command, which was esteemed the best sailer of the queen's ships, to pick them up and then to join the flag outside. before the men were collected, the spanish fleet was opposite the roadstead. apparently lord thomas howard had stood out to sea, so that the fleet of don alonso de bazan was between him and the =revenge=. when sir richard grenville stood out from the anchorage, he had an easy means of rejoining his admiral. all he had to do was to put before the wind, to run to leeward of the spaniards, and join lord thomas on the other side. as a matter of fact, this course was actually followed by a small transport, or victualler, left behind with the =revenge=. but although this was the safe and sensible course, it had about it an air of flight. flight in the circumstances would not have appeared discreditable to an ordinary officer, but sir richard grenville was not an ordinary officer. he was a man of a passionate nature, with a large share of what we may with all due reverence describe as the swaggering courage of the elizabethans. we must not judge him as a man of to-day, but as a gentleman of devon, with a mediæval spirit on the point of honour and a superb valour, who had probably been fed upon tales of chivalry, and was very capable of acting after the manner of a knight-errant. it was, in fact, exactly as a knight-errant that he behaved. his sailing-master advised him to put before the wind and trust to the speed of his ship, but grenville refused. to understand what exactly was the point of honour upon which he fought, it is necessary to remember that at sea the windward position is the place of honour. he who makes way for another, and passes to leeward of him, acknowledges the superiority of the ship for which he makes way. if, then, grenville had put before the wind, and had run to leeward of the spaniards, he would in his own opinion have confessed that they were his betters. now this he would not do, and he therefore decided that at whatever hazard to himself, his ship, and his crew, "he would pass through the two squadrons in spite of them, and enforce that of seville to give him way." this, it seems, if the english version of the story is to be believed, "he performed upon divers of the foremost who sprang and fell under the lee of the =revenge="; that is to say, in the modern phrase, they bore up and made way for the =revenge=. it is probable that these were small vessels, perhaps _urcas_, for a large proportion of the fifty-three ships under the command of don alonso de bazan were certainly transports employed to carry soldiers, and not provided with a battery of guns. however that may be, the _st. philip_, the first of the great spanish galleons in a position to bar his way, did not bear up for grenville. on the contrary, she ran into him to windward, and, being much the bigger and higher ship of the two, took the wind out of his sails and immediately stopped his way. from that moment the fate of the =revenge= was settled. other vessels joined the _st. philip_, and the =revenge= was shut in. in that position she maintained a defence so long and so desperate, that it is only to be accounted for by the very bad gunnery of the spaniards, and by the fact that the action began shortly before dark, and was prolonged through the night. the want of light had unquestionably a great deal to do with preventing the spaniards from overpowering the crew of the =revenge= by mere numbers. lord thomas howard did not desert his fiery second in command. he did, on the contrary, all that was possible for him with a handful of undermanned ships. he attacked the spaniards from windward as closely as he could without allowing himself to be entangled in the midst of their superior numbers. more he could not have done without manifest folly; and it is even said that when he did show a disposition to sail into the midst of the spaniards, his master threatened to throw himself overboard rather than have any share in the destruction of the queen's ships. it was probably during the night that lord thomas howard left his knightly colleague to his fate, and sailed away. at daybreak the =revenge= was completely battered to pieces, forty of her men were killed and a number wounded. grenville himself was mortally hurt. if he could still have had his way, he would rather have blown his ship up than allow her to fall into the hands of the enemy, but his crew were not disposed to be sacrificed any further. they insisted on being allowed to surrender, and the spaniards gave them quarter. grenville himself was carried still living onto the flagship of don alonso de bazan. he declared in his last breath, in spanish, if linschoten is to be believed: "here die i, richard grenville, with a joyful heart and a quiet mind, for that i have ended my life as a good soldier ought to do, who has fought for his country, queen, religion, and honour. wherefore my soul joyfully departeth out of this body, and shall always leave behind it an everlasting fame of a true soldier, who hath done his duty as he was bound to do. but the others of my company have done as traitors and dogs, for which they shall be reproached all their lives, and leave a shameful name for ever." linschoten was at that time a resident in the islands, and may very well have had at least the substance of this speech from the spaniards who actually heard it. it is too consistent not only with the character of the man, but of that of the type to which he belonged, to be wholly false. there was in the action as well as in the literature of the elizabethan time a strain of rodomontade. the death of sir richard grenville was emphatically what the sixteenth century described as a rodomontade in act. the capture of the =revenge= was much boasted of by the spaniards, and is still remembered by them with some complacence. even, however, if we allow for a large element of exaggeration in our own accounts of the battle, it was not a feat which redounded much to their glory. nor was the end of this effort to protect the return home of the trade from america fortunate. lord thomas howard was indeed driven off, and two days after the action the galleons on their way home from america joined don alonso. they represented only the remains of the convoys which had sailed from the ports of new spain. the ships stopped by philip's orders in the preceding year had suffered much from the _teredo_ or boring worm, and numbers went down before reaching the islands. of the remainder few ever lived to see spain. shortly after they had joined don alonso, a violent gale, which lasted for seven days and blew in succession from different quarters, burst on the hundred and forty ships now collected under the command of the spanish admiral. more than a hundred went down or were wrecked on the islands. the loss was greater than that of the armada, and the blow sustained by the naval power of spain even more irreparable. the next two years saw a repetition of these voyages to the isles, distinguished by the usual features of active enterprise and seamanship on the part of the english, and of helpless adherence to routine on the part of the spaniards. in , however, the queen's policy was changed. although these voyages to the islands were sound in policy, and had done immense mischief to the spaniards, they had not proved profitable to the queen. in she listened to the advice of sir francis drake and sir john hawkins, and decided to revert to an older method of striking at the wealth of the king of spain. "these two generals," says sir william monson, "presuming much upon their own experience and knowledge, used many persuasions to the queen to undertake a voyage to the west indies, giving much assurance to perform great services, and promising to engage themselves very deeply therein with the adventure of both substance and life." the plan was, in fact, a repetition of the scheme partially executed in . it was to sail to the west indies and there seize the king of spain's treasure at its port of departure. the plunder of the islands and of spanish ships would, it was calculated, at any rate cover the expenses of the expedition. it was late in sailing, owing to fear of an invasion by the spaniards from the low countries. the cardinal archduke albert, governor of the spanish netherlands since parma's death in , had made himself master of the great part of brittany, and one small expedition did actually come out of the little port of blavet and burn the town of penzance. so soon, however, as it was known that the invasion would be limited to this trumpery raid, drake and hawkins were allowed to sail. as was usual in the case, the squadron consisted only in part of ships belonging to the queen. of these there were six--the =defiance=, in which sir francis drake had his flag, and the =garland=, the flagship of sir john hawkins, the =hope=, the =bonaventure=, the =foresight=, and the =adventurer=. there were, besides these, twenty vessels belonging to private adventurers. two thousand six hundred soldiers were embarked to serve on shore in the proposed capture of panama. they were under the command of sir thomas baskerville, a gentleman of devon. the old kinsmen and fellow-adventurers, who had begun the brilliant epoch of elizabethan naval achievement, sailed, on what was destined to be their last voyage, from hawkins's native town of plymouth on the th of august . they began by following the usual route to the west indies by the grand canary. here, according to precedent, they spent time in attempting to plunder. hawkins is said to have been in favour of pushing on at once to the west indies in obedience to the queen's orders. information had been received in england to the effect that a spanish treasure-ship had put into puerto rico disabled. it was obvious that the sooner the english squadron appeared before the port, the better would be its chance of finding the treasure-ship still there, and of taking the town unprepared. but although hawkins's advice was unquestionably sound, it was overruled by drake and baskerville, who had the support of public opinion in the squadron. the sailors, under pretence of seeking provisions, were in fact eager for plunder. it was therefore decided to land and pillage, but the fleet had overshot its mark. the town of gran canaria could not be attacked before the spaniards had time to put it into a defensible position. finding la gran canaria too strong to be taken, the english commanders were constrained to be satisfied with landing a few men at an out-of-the-way place for fresh water. even this did not in the end succeed with them. some stragglers from the watering parties were attacked by the native herdsmen, who killed most of them, and took the others prisoners. from one of the men taken the spanish governor learned the destination of the fleet, and immediately despatched a quick-sailing vessel to put the towns of the west indies upon their guard. they had, however, been already warned by the king of spain, who was well supplied with information from england. finding that there was nothing to be done at the canaries, drake and hawkins stood on to the leeward islands, and stopped to water at dominica and guadaloupe. on entering the west indies they were scattered by a storm. while they were rejoining one another and trading with the natives of the islands for food and water, the spaniards were actively at work to defeat the purpose of the expedition. king philip had not been careless of the safety of his treasure-ship. he had despatched from spain a squadron of eight _zabras_, under the command of don pedro tello, with orders to bring the bullion home. by a piece of extraordinary bad fortune for us, five of the vessels under tello's command captured a little bark of thirty-five tons belonging to hawkins's squadron. this misfortune happened in the sight of a larger english ship, which escaped and brought the bad news to hawkins, who is reported to have sickened at once as foreseeing the inevitable consequences. don pedro tello did what any english commander of the time would have done without scruple. he put his prisoners to the torture, and compelled them to tell him where the expedition was bound. then he hurried on to puerto rico. the english commanders delayed for some days longer at guadaloupe, and then continued their route in what seems to have been a very leisurely fashion. dissensions are said to have broken out between drake and hawkins, and there is certainly in the whole history of their proceedings a want of the promptitude and resolution they had shown when younger men. before they reached puerto rico, hawkins died, and was buried at sea. though released from a colleague with whom he had not worked happily hitherto, sir francis drake was not more successful when left to himself. he attacked puerto rico in vain. the spaniards had had time to land the treasure and to put the port into a state of defence. the english lost upwards of a hundred men in the repulse. this experience seems to have convinced the surviving leaders that it was hopeless to waste more time at puerto rico. they therefore proceeded to carry out the remainder of their instructions. but for once we were doomed to failure and to find fortune everywhere against us. as is so often the case, bad fortune meant mistaken calculation. drake and hawkins had not realised that a great change had come over the west indies within the last ten years. the smaller spanish posts had been harried out of existence, and the larger had been fortified by the king of spain's engineers. thus there was no such opportunity for plunder as had been presented a few years before to forces incapable of undertaking a regular siege. after one or two unsuccessful attempts to extort ransom from towns along the coast, which were deserted at their approach, drake and baskerville decided to make the long-delayed attack on panama. drake himself remained with the ships at nombre de dios, while baskerville with seven hundred and fifty men attempted that overland march which in after times was triumphantly executed by the buccaneers of sir henry morgan. but in the spanish government was far stronger than it was in the later seventeenth century. baskerville met with very serious resistance. he was harassed while marching through the bush, and repulsed with heavy loss in attacking a stockade erected by the spaniards across the road. finding his enterprise hopeless, even if he and his comrades were prepared to "cloy the jaws of death," he returned to nombre de dios. the indians, who had been friendly when drake was formerly on the coast, were now hostile, perhaps because of the excesses of the meaner adventurers who had followed sir francis. a detachment of english were cut off by them in an ambuscade. it began to be borne in upon the mind of sir francis drake that his life of daring and success was to end in failure. "sir francis drake, who was wont to rule fortune, now finding his error, and the difference between the present state of the indies and what it was when he first knew it, grew melancholy upon this disappointment, and suddenly, and i hope naturally, died at porto bello, not far from the place where he got his first reputation." so says sir william monson; but there is no reason to suppose that the death of drake was due to any other cause than the action of disappointment and the evil climate of the coast on a constitution tried by long and hard service. after the deaths of the two seamen leaders, sir thomas baskerville brought home whatever fever and the sword had spared in the most unsuccessful of all the fleets of elizabeth's reign. he returned by the straits of florida, fighting an indecisive action with the squadron of the king of spain's ships at the west end of cuba on his way. neither of the voyages to the "isles" nor this attempt to revert to the attacks on the west indies had answered the expectations of elizabeth and her council. in spite of his many failures and disasters, philip was indefatigable in refitting his fleet and in organising constant renewed attempts to invade england. by land, the excellence of his troops, and the capacity of his military officers in flanders, gave him some compensation for his disasters at sea. the spaniards had established themselves on the coast of brittany, and even succeeded in capturing calais. in , then, the queen seemed in almost as much danger as she had been in . this time, however, elizabeth took the course which had then been pressed upon her by her captains. she decided to make a formidable attack on the king of spain at home. acting on the earnest advice of lord howard, and of the earl of essex, who was now at the height of his favour, she took part in a great combined expedition to cadiz. a fleet of sail was got together. the queen contributed ships of the royal navy, a very large proportion of the whole at that time, and the sum of no less than £ , , which was about one-eighth of her regular revenue; her dutch allies contributed ships of war and storeships; the others were vessels either levied in the seaports by the crown, or belonging to adventurers. this fleet carried gentlemen volunteers, troops, and seamen, exclusive of the dutch. it was most carefully organised, and sailed with precise instructions to do the utmost possible amount of damage to the king of spain's men-of-war in his havens, to his magazines of victuals and munitions for arming his navy, without hazarding men or ships on merely foolish or rash undertakings. in sharp contrast to the campaign of , this was extraordinarily successful. the fleet sailed on the st of june, and swept down to cadiz in twenty days, capturing everything it met on the way. so thoroughly was this work done that not a single one of the caravels which the spaniards had at sea for the purpose of scouting was able to escape into harbour with information of the approach of the allied fleet. its appearance before cadiz on the th of june was a complete surprise to the enemy. the town rises out of the sea from a mass of rock joined to the mainland by a long narrow spit and a bridge. this isthmus, natural and artificial, runs from s.e. to n.w. between it and the land to the east lies the harbour of cadiz, which is divided into outer and inner by a tongue of land thrust out from the island of cadiz itself, towards the mainland, called puntal, or the point. it has a fort at the extremity. the inner harbour stretches eastward into the mainland of spain. puerto real and the great arsenal called the carraca lie respectively on the northern and southern sides of the eastern end of this harbour. when the allied fleet was seen outside, the outer harbour of cadiz contained a number of richly-laden galleons and a squadron of the king of spain's galleys. the galleons were drawn up across the mouth of the harbour, while the galleys were stationed on either side, with their prows turned inwards for the purpose of flanking any attack. the appearance of resolution which this disposition of their forces was calculated to give was not borne out by the steadiness of the spaniards under attack. the allied fleet had no difficulty in forcing its way into the inner harbour, and then the galleons, except two which were taken, and two burned by the spaniards, fled up to puerto real, while the galleys escaped to sea, through an opening in the spit connecting the town of cadiz with the mainland. it was the belief of some of the officers present, that if the allies had contented themselves with merely cutting cadiz off from the mainland by occupying some point on the connecting road, they might have followed the galleons and merchant ships which took refuge at puerto real with the certainty of securing an enormous booty, and with every probability that the town of cadiz would fall whenever they returned to attack it. this judicious plan was rendered impossible of application by the headlong zeal of the earl of essex. having attacked, and silenced, the fort at the end of puntal, he landed and marched on to storm the town itself. his example aroused the emulation of lord howard, of lord thomas howard, and of sir walter raleigh. they hastened to land and join in the assault upon the town. cadiz, being destitute of a regular garrison and ill-fortified, fell without much difficulty before the attack of the allies, though not without sharp fighting in the streets and marketplace, in which one distinguished english officer, sir john winkfield, was shot dead. cadiz remained in the possession of the allies for a fortnight. to the honour of their commanders be it said, they behaved with a moderation very seldom shown at that time after the storm of a city. strict order was maintained, and the allies were content to levy a moderate ransom on the city, though they might easily have sacked it as brutally as the spanish armies of the time had sacked the cities of the low countries. on the spanish side nothing more effectual was performed than the burning of the ships which had taken refuge at puerto real. this was done by the orders of the same duke of medina sidonia who had commanded the armada. he was still captain-general of andalusia, by the undeserved favour of his king, and he once more had an opportunity of covering himself with ridicule. after retaining possession of cadiz for as long as they pleased, the allies set it on fire, and retreated with less booty than they had hoped to obtain, but certainly with immense honour, and after dealing the heaviest blow to the dignity of the king of spain it had as yet had to endure. on the way home the fleet plundered the little portuguese town of faro in algarve, when they carried off the library of bishop osorio, "which library," says monson, "was brought into england by us and many of the books bestowed upon the newly erected library at oxford." it was counted the most remarkable proof of the good fortune and good management of this armament that it returned in health. successful though the expedition had been, it had not satisfied the queen. honour had been gained in abundance, but the material results were not what her majesty and her council had been led to expect. no sooner had the lord admiral and his colleague, the earl of essex, reached home than they were importuning the queen for money to pay the wages of their men. now this was not what the queen had looked for. she had been induced to advance so great a sum of money as £ , by the eager assurances of howard and essex that an attack on the king of spain's harbours, made with sufficient force, must needs be extremely lucrative. it was commonly reported that many of those who took part in the "cadiz voyage" had returned with a comfortable sum of plunder. yet there was nothing due to her majesty capable of covering the expenses of the campaign, still less of leaving her a margin of profit on her £ , . therefore the generals were subjected to very searching inquiries why they had nothing more to produce, and were compelled to justify themselves as well as they could. the real explanation was that they had been in such a hurry to seize the town that they had neglected to take possession of the ships before the spaniards had time to burn them. for this postponement of the more profitable to the less there were two reasons. of these, one is to be found in the difference between the meaning of the words "prize" and "plunder." prize meant whatever had to be thrown into a common stock and divided _pro rata_. it included an enemy's ships, with their cargoes and ordnance, and the ransom of towns, or whatever was paid for the release of goods afloat from capture. in this the common sailor and soldier only took his share when the whole was divided on the return home. plunder meant whatever the men were entitled to take possession of at once. it included small arms, cabin furniture, the personal ransom paid for prisoners, whatever loose cash they had in their pockets when they were taken, their clothes and jewellery. a civilised enemy was accustomed to exercise a certain decency in the exercise of this right of war. it was thought more becoming not to strip the prisoners actually naked, and, in some cases at least, it was made a rule that the women were not to be deprived of their earrings. at cadiz the chiefs protected "the better sort of merchants' wives." they were allowed to go off unmolested to the number of two hundred or so, under an escort provided by the earl of essex. they availed themselves of his courtesy to put on all their best dresses at once, together with all their rings and necklaces. but although essex and howard kept the pillage of cadiz within exceptionally close limits, it is certain that the town must have afforded a great deal of miscellaneous plunder. the women who did not have the good fortune to be included among "the better sort of merchants' wives" were probably left with little enough of whatever finery they may have possessed. as for the men, nobody would stand on much ceremony with them. such portable property as plate, or the goods in the shops, would be taken as a matter of course, every man seizing for himself whatever came in his way. on the ships there was much less of this promiscuous plunder than in the town, and the men, whether soldiers or sailors, were perfectly well aware of the fact. essex excused himself for not seeing that the ships were taken possession of, by saying that he had instructed the sailors to follow up the galleons to puerto real, while the soldiers of the expedition were engaged in occupying the town. but the sailors were extremely unlikely to accept a division of labour which would have thrown a good deal of work, with a prospect of remote reward, on them, while it left the soldiers the exclusive enjoyment of the plunder of cadiz. they were the less likely to do so, because experience had shown them that when the final division of the prize came to be made in england, her majesty would take very good care that the lion's share of it should fall to the crown. therefore, when once the example of attacking cadiz was set by the earl of essex, the whole combined force, military and naval, hastened to the place where lay the largest and the most immediate share of profit. another explanation of the failure to make a thoroughly successful commercial speculation of the capture of cadiz, is to be found in the rivalry between the chiefs. to this there was a chivalrous side. the eagerness with which howard and essex, raleigh and lord thomas howard, strove to outstrip one another for the foremost place in driving back the king of spain's galleons, and storming his city, makes a very gallant story. they behaved much after the manner to be expected of spirited sixth-form boys. in that there was nothing dangerous to the interests of the service. but this emulation had another side, which is only to be accurately described by the less honourable name of rivalry. essex and raleigh were both courtiers who were endeavouring to excel one another in the favour of the queen by outdoing one another in the flatteries elizabeth loved. they had come to open hostility already, and having been reconciled, they of course hated one another mortally. at cadiz the evil consequences of their hostility were hardly apparent. but there was enough of it to prevent the campaign of from being as fully successful as it might have been. there was in the greater elizabethan enterprises unity of sentiment and a vigour of energy which produced success in the main, but there was hardly what in the full sense of the word is called discipline. in addition to the rivalry between the leaders, there was a rivalry between the different types of men. the sailor and the sailor officer were opposed to the soldier. the latter grew impatient when the former endeavoured to overbear him by appeals to seamanship, and the conditions of war at sea which the military man only vaguely understood, while the sailor was apt to think himself sacrificed to the soldier. each of these forms of rivalry had a share in producing the failure of the next considerable naval effort of elizabeth's reign. in philip was still threatening england with attack, this time from the basque ports. after the loss of so much money in the previous year, elizabeth was by no means disposed to renew the voyage to cadiz. indeed it is doubtful whether she could have repeated that attack without straining her popularity to a dangerous extent. not she only, but london and the smaller ports, had been put to heavy expenses for small profit. if the queen had attempted to press ships from london and the out-ports, there would certainly have been a considerable outcry, and it was never her policy to give her subjects any excuse for being discontented, when it was in her power to avoid it. she therefore fitted out a moderate squadron of fifteen ships. it was put under the command of the earl of essex, and despatched to sea, with orders to look into the king of spain's harbours. it was driven back by bad weather, but discovered enough to show that philip's threats were not serious. although the year was far advanced, it was decided to make another attempt to get possession of the spanish plate-ships by one of the usual voyages to the "isles." the greater part of the soldiers, recruited earlier in the year, were disbanded. a thousand seasoned men belonging to the old low country regiments were retained, and the squadron sailed a second time. it touched the spanish coast near ferrol, in the hope of drawing out the king of spain's ships to action. but they did not stir. essex then continued his voyage to the azores, but the whole campaign was a failure. the ships separated; they either did not sight the spaniards at all, or if they did, were unable to catch them. ill luck was as usual pleaded as an excuse, but the true explanation of the failure of the expedition is to be sought elsewhere. sir walter raleigh accompanied the expedition. he had taken to adventure at sea ever since he had deeply offended the queen's vanity, which expected all her courtiers to fall in love with herself alone, and had more reasonably offended her dignity by seducing her maid of honour, miss throgmorton. but he did not renounce the hope of regaining her favour, and was bitterly angered at finding himself supplanted in the queen's good graces by the earl of essex. essex, for his part, had no love for raleigh, and had already accused him of spoiling the full success of the cadiz voyage for his own ends. consciously or unconsciously, the two men were engaged in counteracting one another throughout the whole cruise. in such circumstances nothing effectual was likely to be done. the squadron finally returned without prizes. during its absence, a spanish squadron had sailed against england, but had been driven back by storms from the neighbourhood of the scilly isles. after the war began to die down. in the royal navy was idle, and in it did little beyond show how rapidly a squadron could be fitted for sea by the navy office when the queen called upon it to exert itself. a squadron of twenty vessels was "rigged, victualled, and furnished to sea in twelve days." sir william monson records that the feat excited the surprise and admiration of foreigners. in , again, nothing was done. spain and england were, in fact, both becoming exhausted. war had put a stop to what was then our most lucrative branch of commerce, and it had been found by experience that privateering did not compensate for the want of peaceful industry. negotiations for peace were begun, and continued throughout the years and . in the latter year three ships were sent to the isles under the command of sir richard levison, but the king of spain took care to provide the _flota_ with a powerful escort, and sir richard returned home without so much as a single prize. the negotiations for peace ended for the time in failure, but the naval war did not revive with any energy. in a spanish squadron landed three thousand five hundred soldiers in ireland for the purpose of co-operating with the earl of tyrone, who was then in full rebellion against queen elizabeth. this invasion of her dominions roused the queen to fresh exertions. she despatched a squadron under the command of sir richard levison to the coast of ireland, to prevent the spaniards from reinforcing the detachment they had already landed. he had with him only five ships, but they proved sufficient for the work. the spanish fleet had returned home after disembarking don juan del aguila with his three thousand five hundred men, but a squadron which had followed with a reinforcement of seven hundred men was attacked in kinsale harbour with success; and although the failure of the spanish invasion was mainly due to the want of co-operation on the part of tyrone, and the energy of the lord deputy mountjoy, the navy rendered material assistance by cutting the communications with spain. the exhaustion of both parties now began to be shown by the small scale of the armaments on either side. the three thousand five hundred soldiers of don juan del aguila, and the fleet that carried them to ireland, were a great fall from the standard of the spanish expeditions of earlier years. the squadron queen elizabeth sent in revenge to the coast of spain was trifling. it consisted only of nine vessels under the command of sir richard levison as admiral, with sir william monson as his second in command. sir william in his _naval tracts_, which are the best authority for the history of the navy in elizabeth's reign, has given a very prominent place to the cruise of this year, and in particular to his own very remarkable display of courage, energy, and sagacity. sir william was no doubt an excellent officer, and the capture or destruction of the portuguese carracks in the roadstead of zizembre was a creditable bit of service, but it is hardly entitled to be told at length in a general history of the navy. in the following year the same two officers commanded the squadron in the narrow seas, but the war was over. queen elizabeth herself died in this year, and was succeeded by the peace-loving james i. philip ii. had been dead for four years, and his successor was a feeble prince, under whom the power of spain went rapidly to decay. in france, henry iv. had established his right to the throne at the point of the sword. everywhere, except in holland, which would not make peace unless its independence was secured, and except in the minds of the men of the stamp of sir walter raleigh, to whom war was a source of income, there was a longing for the end of hostilities. the great elizabethan epoch was over, and when england was next to be engaged in serious warfare at sea, it was with a very different enemy, and in quite another cause. in telling the naval history of the great queen's reign from the armada year forward, i have thought it better to leave aside the action of the adventurers except where they are found combined with those of the royal navy. but from to the end of the century these champions of our power on the sea were numerous, and in some cases brilliantly successful. there were, indeed, far more of them than are recorded. in the general suspension of trade, privateering voyages became a very important resource of merchants and seafaring men. commerce with spain did not indeed altogether come to an end. although we did not, like the dutch, keep up an open trade with the enemy, english merchant ships were not infrequently to be found in spanish ports both in europe and in the islands of the atlantic. the west indian harbours were indeed jealously closed to foreigners. but english merchant ships which adopted the simple precaution of flying the scotch flag seem to have found little difficulty in trading with the spaniards. yet this resource had its dangers, and the temptations to seek a profit by pillaging the spaniard were very great. thus there were always swarms of now forgotten english privateers at sea. sir william monson assures us that the great majority of these adventures proved disastrous, or at least barren, and we can well believe it. small privateers, measuring often no more than forty or fifty tons, were incapable of attacking not only the large and well-protected spanish _flotas_, but even of dealing with a single fairly-armed galleon. they had not only their want of material strength against them, but also their want of discipline, and the fact that they were frequently fitted out by owners who were too poor to equip them properly. their crews were largely composed of men who fled to them to escape the stricter discipline, and more limited opportunities of plunder afforded by the queen's ships. such vessels, so equipped and so manned, would, in the ordinary course, come frequently to grief, and it is not likely that sir william monson was exaggerating when he said that a large proportion of them either perished unheard of at sea, or returned without so much as seeing a spaniard. among these obscure men there were, however, a few whose achievements are memorable. of these, by far the most brilliant was george clifford, third earl of cumberland. he has not in modern times had that measure of reputation which is his due. in truth, no man more fully illustrated what was most brilliant in the adventures of the elizabethan epoch. of some of the others--drake, hawkins, or raleigh, for instance--we may doubt whether the hope of gain was not their main inducement. but the earl was a great noble, who did not indeed deny that he hoped to take prizes from the spaniards, and make his profit by them, but who certainly was mainly influenced by a chivalrous love of adventure, and the feeling that it became a man of his rank to set an example. certainly, his ten voyages undertaken between and will compare with the deeds of any of the seamen of his time. it is true that he did not sail in all the expeditions fitted out at his expense, but he did in many of them. three are particularly interesting. in the earl's ships were at the taking of the great carrack _madre de dios_, which fell into the hands of a squadron of english privateers belonging, some to cumberland, some to the hawkins family, and some to sir walter raleigh. it was a misfortune of the adventurers that one of the queen's ships was present at the capture. it was a very small vessel, and had very little share in the merits of the enterprise. in fact, but for the strenuous exertions of the privateers, she would have been carried off by the carrack. her captain, sir robert cross, ran the big portuguese on board, who thereupon "lashed his ship fast by the shrouds and sailed away with her by her side." hereupon captain norton, cumberland's commander, boarded the carrack to save the queen's ship, and, being well supported by the others, carried her after a prolonged struggle. the _madre de dios_ was brought to england, and her capture proved a fruitful event. she had come from the portuguese possessions in the east indies, and carried a cargo of "spices, drugs, silks, calicoes, quilts, carpets, and colours." the sight of it is said to have stimulated strongly the desire of the merchants of london to share in the trade of the east, and to have had a direct influence in the formation of the east india company. the earl's profit was not in proportion to his hopes; for the queen, taking advantage of the fact that one of the least of her ships had had the smallest possible share in the capture, contrived, by a very characteristic mixture of force and fraud, to secure the lion's share for herself. she indeed was robbed by her own agents, but she forced cumberland to put up with £ , as a free gift from her, in place of the greater sum he had expected to receive. the eighth voyage, which took place in , was marked by two actions of extraordinary ferocity with portuguese carracks. one, the _cinco chagas_, was burnt in action, after a scene of great horror. another beat off the attack of the privateers. but the most memorable of the earl's enterprises, and indeed the most brilliant achievement of any subject in the queen's reign, was the earl's voyage to the west indies in , the year in which essex and raleigh were wrangling and failing at the azores. his experience in had shown cumberland the disadvantage of sailing with the queen's ships. elizabeth was known to be very tender of her vessels, so that whoever sailed with them had to be in continual anxiety lest they should come to grief, while the queen was most apt to take advantage of their presence to deprive her partners of a fair share of the booty. the unsuccessful attack on the carracks in had also shown cumberland the need for large vessels of considerable strength. he therefore built one for himself at deptford. she was of tons, at that time the burden of a ship of the first rank, and was named by the queen, who christened her at the launching the =scourge of malice=. in the earl raised a force of eighteen sail, and took the command in person. he sailed on the th of march, intending, if possible, to capture the portuguese east india ships on their way out, but, failing that, to proceed to the west indies, and there capture some island or town "that would yield him wealth and riches, being the chief end of his undertaking." the first part of his plan failed. after cruising for a time on the coast of portugal to very little purpose, he sailed to the canaries. here, also, no booty was to be found, and the earl then told his men that he intended to go on to the west indies, hoping to make profit, "by first the sacking of margarita, which they knew was rich, then puerto rico, after that, san domingo, then in july the outward-bound fleet would be in the acoa, where we could not miss them, and if these gave us not content, in the end of july or august we should meet the fleet at cape st. antonio." the earl did not seriously intend to attempt the execution of all parts of this extensive plan. in the fragment of a history of the voyage written by himself he confesses very candidly that he spoke "more to carry the men with good liking thither, than for any thought he had of them himself." but at that time it was never necessary to spend much pains in persuading englishmen to sail to the west indies. cumberland's crews entered with "greedy desire and hopeful expectation" into his schemes. he therefore stretched over from lanzarote, one of the canaries, to dominica in the leeward isles, where he cast anchor on the rd of may. a week was spent in recruiting the health of his men. the english traded with the caribs, and bathed in the hot springs. they found the caribs friendly, and the tropical luxuriance of the vegetation filled at least the more educated of them with delight. cumberland would have wished to make use of the time for the purpose of drilling his men, who were still very raw. but the hillsides of dominica are so steep, and the tropical forests were then so dense, that no convenient drill ground could be discovered. after a week's rest they went on, refreshed by food and hot baths, and reached the virgin islands in the course of three days of sailing to the north-west. here at last cumberland was able to set about turning the men he had collected into something approaching soldiers. a large proportion of them had no doubt served before, but as yet there were many who had no practice, and the whole body was still undivided into companies. what little could be done in the course of a few days was done, and the earl took occasion to make his men a speech. the burden of it was that the play was over, and the work going to begin. hitherto he had borne with the many "gross faults committed among you, suffering every man to do what he would, and urging no man further than he listed." for this leniency the earl had several reasons, but now all were to understand that discipline must be maintained, and that no man should be allowed to infringe it. having delivered this harangue "standing under a great cliff of a rock, his prospect to the seaward, stepped upon one of the greater stones, which, added to his natural stature, gave him a pretty height above the other company," cumberland sent his men back to their ships, and prepared to carry out his attack on puerto rico. his social rank and his power to pay wages out of his ample revenue combined to give him a "pretty height above the other company," and he was able to introduce a degree of good order among his followers, which few plebeian adventurers could have attained. therefore his capture of san juan de puerto rico was a fine orderly operation of war, conducted with no less humanity than gallantry. the island of puerto rico lies directly to the west of the virgin islands. the town of san juan is on the northern side, about thirty miles to the west of the headland of san juan, which is the easterly limit of the land. the coast runs almost due east and west. the town stands upon a little island of some two and a half miles long by a quarter wide, which itself lies parallel to the coast. at the eastern extremity of this little island it is connected with the mainland of puerto rico by a spit on which a bridge has now been built. at the south-east corner, the space between the lesser and the greater island is very trifling, and at this point there is a ferry. the town of san juan de puerto rico lies at the western end of the little island, some slight distance away from the spit and the ferry. the small island is very rocky, particularly towards the sea front. the place is naturally strong, and only three years before had beaten off an attack by drake. but at that time it was occupied by a strong detachment of soldiers sent to protect the treasure. at the time of the earl of cumberland's attack, it was left to its own resources, which, however, were not contemptible. standing over from the virgin islands, the earl sailed past the precipitous northern coast of puerto rico, till he came to the place where the hills turn inland, and the coast begins to afford landing-places. here he sent forward two pinnaces under the command of one captain knotsford, an old seaman trained in hawkins's service, with orders to choose a landing-place. knotsford, being apparently in fear lest he should be carried to leeward of san juan, lay-to too soon, and waited for the earl, who joined him by night. the choice of a landing-place was thus thrown upon cumberland himself. he pitched on one, which seamen who had been there with sir francis drake declared to be unmanageable, because the surf was at all times beating on the beach. they had probably judged too hastily from a single experience. the earl found the sea calm, and landed his men without the least difficulty. they were in number "not so few as a thousand." a day's march "through most unpassable rocks and cliffs" brought them to within sight of the island of san juan at the east end. their march had been observed by a handful of spanish horsemen, who did not offer any effectual resistance, and who disappeared into the forest as the english approached the end of st. juan. when they saw the place they had come to attack in front of them, the earl and his companions learned for the first time that they could not get across without boats, and, as the spaniards had a fort at that point, there would have been great danger in attempting the use of that method. it seemed then, as the earl's chaplain puts it, that "we were at a flat bay; even at our wits' end." cumberland, however, was not so soon at the end of his wits as the chaplain. he argued very justly that the spanish horsemen whom they had just seen ride off into the woods must have some means of getting into the island, and he fairly concluded that where the spaniards could cross, so could the english. the difficulty was to find the passage. on their march, cumberland's soldiers had captured a negro, by whom they had been guided so far. the man spoke little spanish, or, as we can well believe, english either, and was moreover in extreme terror between the probability that the english would kill him if he refused to guide them, and the prospect that the spaniards would hang him for acting as guide. at last he was made to understand that the english were in search of some ford at which they could walk into the island. he led them to a point where there was a causeway, probably that where the bridge now stands. it was now late, and the whole force was very tired, so cumberland gave his men a few hours' rest before making an attack. they all slept in their armour on the bare ground, the earl among them with his target for a pillow. two hours before daybreak they were called quietly under arms, and prepared to rush the causeway. the earl would have led himself, but was persuaded to leave the command of the van to his lieutenant, sir john berkeley. the attempted surprise was a failure, though well planned and gallantly executed. the spaniards had a stockade at the end of the causeway, and, being on the look-out, they opened a hot fire at the english as they came on. cumberland, though he had left the leading of the storm to berkeley, would not keep out of the fight, and his zeal led him into danger in a fashion which, to us, is not without a certain absurdity. as he was cheering his men on along the causeway in the dark, his shield-bearer stumbled and fell against him. cumberland was thrown off his feet and pushed into the water, falling on his back, so that, being encumbered by the weight of his armour, he could not get up, and would infallibly have been drowned if two of his followers had not fished him out after several unsuccessful dives. when rescued, it was found that he had swallowed so much salt water as to be very sick. he spent the rest of the action sitting in complete prostration by the side of the causeway. when the first signs of daylight were visible, the english were called off, and retired with the loss of some fifty men. it was obvious that there was no getting into the island by that entry, and therefore the earl went back to the point at which he had first touched st. juan; and, bringing round one of his ships, battered down the fort at the landing. his vessel was stranded and became a wreck, but an entry was made into the island. a march of a mile through wood and rocky ground brought the invaders to the town, which is described, probably with great exaggeration, as being of the same circuit as oxford. it had been deserted by all except the women, children, and old men. the men capable of bearing arms had shut themselves up in the fort called the morra, which it was necessary to reduce by a regular siege. as very frequently happened in the ventures of that time, there was more honour than material profit made at san juan de puerto rico; but in this case the leader aimed chiefly at honour, or at least something altogether beyond the mere ransom. it was cumberland's intention to retain possession of san juan de puerto rico for the crown of england, and he actually remained there far longer than was wise, if he had considered only his immediate interests. his intention to antedate the establishment of the english in the west indies by more than half a century was altogether premature. his force, already weakened by sickness and inaction, was not strong enough for the undertaking. after losing nearly four hundred men by fevers, the earl took to his ships and returned to england. i have told the history of the earl of cumberland's capture of san juan de puerto rico at what may appear undue length if it is judged by the intrinsic importance of the feat; but it stands here as the representative of a score of others which could not be told without swelling this book to irrational proportions. the naval war of elizabeth's reign was, above all, a war of adventurers. cumberland was only the richest, the best born, and, it is not unjust to add, the most high-minded, of a large class which included cavendish, grenville, preston, sommers, dudley, shirley, lancaster, and a score of others whose names meet us here and there as commanding ships in fights and captures, but who came out of and returned to obscurity. the regular naval war did not differ materially from the enterprises of these sea-rovers. the capture of cadiz was only the taking of san juan de puerto rico on a great scale, and the cruises to the isles were very much like the earl's cruises to the canaries. it is this adventurous quality, the touch of romance and knight-errantry, which gives its peculiar charm to the elizabethan time. there is a youthfulness about the epoch which is lost by the next generation. england was "mewing her mighty youth," springing from a small power to a great, and from a little trading nation to one whose sails were on every sea. when elizabeth ascended the throne, the english flag had only once or twice gone farther than to archangel in the north and scanderoon in the levant. before her death, ships bearing her flag and manned by her subjects had "prowled with hostile keel" in all the seas of the world; and her merchants were preparing to open a permanent trade with the east indies, while english colonists had established a footing on the continent of north america. in this great work the royal navy was not the only instrument. it is seldom that we find it acting alone, and never when a great display of power was required. yet the royal navy was the steel of the lance, the model of discipline and warlike efficiency. the city of london, or so great a subject as the earl of cumberland, might show a few ships not inferior to the queen's, but that was quite the exception. the royal navy was already as distinctly marked from the other shipping of the country as it was in later generations. chapter iv james i. and charles i. authorities.--sir w. monson's _naval tracts_ continue to be the leading authority for the early years of king james. the narratives which illustrate the adventures of our seamen with the algerine pirates and the expeditions of have been collected by lediard in his _naval history_. the report of the commission of is given in substance in charnock's _naval architecture_. the original is in the record office. the navy record society has printed holland's and ilyonsbie's _discourses on the navy_, edited by mr. tanner. for the later years included in this chapter and for the whole time of the civil war and the commonwealth, the collection of documents miscalled the life of sir w. penn, by granville penn, is of great value. in the summer of sir william monson was appointed to command the squadron in the narrow seas. in the course of his duty he had occasion to speak with the officer commanding the dutch ships then engaged in the blockade of dunkirk. "at my coming thither," he writes, "i went on board the admiral of holland, who had been my old and familiar acquaintance by reason of many actions and services we had been in together. i told him that after twenty years spent in the wars, i was now become a watchman with a bill in my hand to see peace kept and no disorder committed in the narrow seas." the image which monson applied to himself might, with equal justice, have been used of the government he served. after a long and stormy reign, divided into nearly equal periods of conflict without open war and then of undisguised hostilities, england had settled down under a sovereign whose dearest wish it was to see peace kept and no disorders committed in the narrow seas or elsewhere. it could hardly be said that king james was a watchman with a bill in his hands. this king would, in fact, have been a more effectual guardian of the peace, if he had taken better care to have his weapon ready, and shown a greater faculty for using it. yet he chose the part of the peacemaker, and his decision inevitably had its effect on the navy. with the exception of one deplorably ill-managed expedition against the pirates of algiers in , the king's reign was barren of warlike enterprises at sea; but it is not, on that account, without great interest in naval history. in the first place, it is during the reign of king james that we first get a good opportunity of seeing the navy engaged in its regular work of keeper of the peace, or protector as the church service words it, of all those who go upon the sea upon their lawful occasions. then it was a time of great advance in shipbuilding and of great experiments in naval administration. the same sir william monson, whose name has appeared so often already, has left an account of his services as admiral in the narrow seas, written for his own justification at a time when he was accused by the dutch of showing partiality in the discharge of his office. the exact merits of this accusation are hardly to be settled now, nor does it very much matter whether monson leant too much to one side or the other, in the chronic disputes between dutchmen and spaniards which were then disturbing the channel. it would have been beyond the power of any officer to convince both parties that he was fair, and we have his word for it that he cordially disliked the dutch. even if he had felt more kindly towards them, it would have been difficult for him not to come into collision with their officers. there were pretensions on both sides which it was clearly impossible to reconcile. the king of england not only claimed the absolute sovereignty of the four seas, but made claims to a general superiority on the ocean which were irksome to the rising naval power of holland. the stolid good sense of the dutch, who always thought more of substance than of form, and the sagacity which showed them the folly of quarrelling with england while their conflict with spain was not yet ended, could alone have availed to keep them from resenting pretensions which almost seemed to have been designed to provoke our neighbours into war. the officers of the king of england not only claimed the right to exact the salute within the four seas, but they absolutely insisted that no flag was to be shown in the presence of their own, even far beyond the limits of the jurisdiction claimed for england. sir william monson recalls with pride how he once rebuked the insolence of a dutch officer who, after making the salute, had rehoisted his own flag in irish waters, by telling him that it was only out of the condescending politeness of lord howard that the dutch admiral had been allowed to display his colours in the expedition to cadiz. the dutch, though they bore the lordly arrogance of england tamely enough, when all that was at stake was the matter of the salute, were pertinacious in insisting on their own way on points of material advantage. thus, for instance, they insisted upon prohibiting all trade by english vessels to the ports of flanders held by the spaniards, though they themselves never suspended their lucrative commerce with spain at any period during the war. in pursuit of their belligerent rights, they did not hesitate to attack spanish vessels, or those belonging to the spanish netherlands, even in english waters. sir william monson recounts the difficulty he found in preventing two dutch cruisers from attacking a vessel belonging to dunkirk, in the very roadstead of sandwich. his task was made harder by the fact that the men of the english seaports sympathised openly with the dutch. the hostility to spain had grown strong during the great queen's reign, and had not yet given place to the hatred of the hollander. the great change produced by the accession of the house of stuart is forcibly illustrated by the fact that one of monson's first duties, during the reign of king james, was to contrive the smuggling over from dover to flanders of some thousands of spanish soldiers, who were driven to take refuge in our ports. they had come up channel with eight war galleons, the largest force which by the terms of the new treaty was allowed free entry to an english harbour. it seems difficult to believe that the spaniards would have risked so small a squadron in the channel in face of the naval power of holland, unless they had assurances that it would not only be protected, but helped to make its way into flemish ports. sir william monson has not told by what artful management he contrived to pass the spaniards, who had taken refuge at dover, across the channel. the story might have cost him some ill-will, and he thought it better to keep silent. but if the dutch learned, as they not improbably did, that he had been giving so much zealous assistance to an enemy who was endeavouring to conquer their country, it is not wonderful that they doubted his impartiality. not the least important part of his duty consisted in escorting "such princes, ambassadors, and others, as were entitled to the honour." of these he convoyed no less than thirty-two in eleven years, with all their servants and followers, who, on some occasions, reached the figure of three hundred, all of whom sir william had to feed. one of these guests, the count of villa mediana, was confined for five days by foul weather in monson's ship, having with him a train of two hundred persons, who consumed, in all, ten meals each. the honour of discharging such a dignified function as that of protector of princes and ambassadors was embittered for monson, and indeed for naval officers, as late as nelson's time, and later, by the meanness of the government, which left them to bear the expense of entertaining these guests of the state. monson has left it on record that at the end of his service he was "as yet unsatisfied" for no less a sum than fifteen hundred pounds spent in this way. five or six thousand pounds would probably be the modern equivalent. but monson, who took a pension from spain, had ways of making the loss good. these, varied by an occasional raid on foreign fishermen engaged in poaching on our waters, represented the usual duties of the officer commanding the channel squadron, or, to use the language of the time, the winter and the summer guard, in the early seventeenth century. sir william monson had a piece of work to do at the very end of his active service of a much more lively character than any of these, and one too characteristic of the time, and the conditions of sea life, to be passed over. in the king's scotch subjects petitioned him for help against the pirates who were infesting the coasts. the call was pressing, and was favourably received by the king. sir william monson and sir francis howard were despatched at once with four ships in such haste that the "victuals and other things" they needed were to be sent after them. the little squadron left margate on the th of may, and reached leith on the rd of the same month. here monson applied to the "lords of that realme," for information concerning the pirates, desiring "to be furnished with able pilots, for his majesty's ships were of greater burden and value than usually had been employed on these coasts, and besides, that the navigation to the northward of that place (leith) was not frequented by our nation, and therefore unknown to us." able pilots were duly supplied, and information was forthcoming. from the frith of forth monson sailed to the north, to sinclair castle, the house of the earl of caithness, by whom he was informed that the number and powers of the pirates had been much exaggerated in the petition to his majesty. instead of twenty, there were but two, and they men of "base condition." from the expression it appears likely that monson would have not been much surprised to learn that his pirates were gentlemen of good birth, and indeed there would have been nothing wonderful in it at a time when a member of the distinguished buckinghamshire family of verney was a noted leader among the algerines. monson's pirates were very small deer. one of them hardly deserved the name, being only a trader who had been terrified into joining his captors. this man had seized the first chance to escape, and had just rendered up himself and one of the two vessels to the earl of caithness. the other pirate turned out to be one clarke, who had formerly been a boatswain's mate with monson in the channel. from caithness the english officer sailed to the orkneys in pursuit of clarke. here "he found more civil, kind, and friendly usage than could be expected from such kind of creatures in show." leaving sir francis howard to guard the coast, he sailed in pursuit of the runaway clarke to shetland. from shetland he went on to the hebrides, where he intended that his consort should join him. "the brutishness and uncivility of those people of the hebrides exceeds the savages of america," is the rude description given of the islanders by sir william monson. clarke was not to be found in the hebrides, but monson obtained information of a certain gentleman, cormat by name, living in ireland near broadhaven, who was known as a favourer and protector of pirates. to broadhaven, then, monson sailed, meeting on the way with such weather as is "fit only for a poet to describe." in the great storm and ground seas the squadron was scattered. of the four ships monson had with him, one went down, and the three others were separated, "and saw one another no more till they met in england." on the th june monson reached broadhaven, a place which would have been unknown to him, if he had not had with him a pirate whom he had taken out of the hands of the earl of caithness. this man guided him into the haven, and then was of material assistance in carrying out a stratagem which monson had devised for the more effectual discovery and punishment of cormat (whose real name was probably cormac) and his lawless associates. so fine was the distinction between the lawless and the law-abiding on the seas at that time, that monson had no difficulty in picking out from his crew a number of men who had formerly been pirates. "these men he sent in his boat to the gentlemen of that place, and took upon him to be a pirate and the name of captain manwaring." the ex-pirate, whom monson trusted, acted so as to prove the truth of the adage touching the wisdom of employing a thief to catch a thief. he entered into the plot with almost scandalous zest. mr. cormac had three daughters, all of whom, it appears, had pirate sweethearts. "these silly women" were cruelly deluded with stories to the effect that captain manwaring was very rich with plunder, and very generous, also that he was acquainted with all their sweethearts. misled by this fiction, mr. cormac and his belongings were at once consumed with a desire to make the acquaintance of captain manwaring. he put cattle at a convenient place on the coast with their ears slit, in order that the supposed pirates might take them in a "warlike manner, that it might appear their cattle were taken by violence." next day monson sent for the cattle, sending fifty armed men under captain chester in a "disorderly manner like pirates." captain chester was civilly received by the misses cormac, "whose desire was to hear of their sweethearts, but all in general coveted to see captain manwaring, who they confidently believed would enrich them all." in the course of the day mr. cormac sent two "ambassadors," who "delivered a friendly (though in a rude manner like their country) message of their love." it was an invitation to a dinner and dance. monson now began to put his stratagem in force. he laid the two messengers by the heels in the hold of his ship, after cruelly asking them whether they thought she looked like a pirate. then he landed himself with more men in a disorderly manner. he was received on the beach by a large crowd with an effusive welcome. one of the crowd was an english trader, another was a merchant from galway. both of these made a trade of buying plunder from pirates. a third noted character in the hospitable mob was cormac's schoolmaster; for an irish gentleman, however lax he might be in the matter of piracy, was never indifferent to learning. surrounded by cheers and enthusiasm, the imaginary captain manwaring made triumphant progress to mr. cormac's house. a royal entertainment had been prepared. the harper, a recognised member of every irish household, played to welcome him, and the misses cormac proposed a dance. monson would not himself dance, but he allowed his followers to amuse themselves. in the meantime he talked with cormac and his daughters, "laughing and jeering at their two messengers aboard who they did not suspect were detained prisoners, but drinking and frolicking in the ship, as the use was upon the arrival of pirates." then he had some talk with the trader, of whom he draws a most engaging picture. believing that he had in truth to deal with a pirate, the man was completely candid. he explained how he treated the sheriffs, showing "a pass procured upon false pretences from the sheriff of that county, authorising him to travel from place to place to make inquisition of his goods, which he falsely pretended he was robbed of at sea; he laughed at the cheat he had put upon the sheriff in getting his pass, and urged the advantage that might be made of it in sending to and fro in the country without suspicion.... his antic behaviour was enough to put the melancholist man in good humour, sometimes he played the part of a commanding sheriff; then he acted his own with many witty passages as to how he deceived the sheriff." sir william monson pumped this clever fellow, of whom he was making a dupe, and in particular got a letter from him to certain mariners in the county who were the regular associates of pirates. so soon as he had this useful document in his pocket, sir william sprang his mine on this innocent irish family. he told them who he was, and that they were all prisoners. "here was seen the mutability of the world; their mirth was turned into mourning and their dancing into lamenting, each bewailing and repenting as is the custom of offenders." the inexorable sir william returned on board, leaving them all under guard, and his carpenter busy in setting up the gallows, but the end was not tragic for the family of cormac and their guests. after giving them "four-and-twenty hours' fright" in irons, and receiving a solemn promise that they would never connive at pirates again, monson pardoned them. he was perhaps the more readily induced to be merciful by the fact that in the meantime another vessel had turned up outside broadhaven, and had at once stood off to sea on finding the anchorage occupied. rightly judging that the new-comer was a pirate, monson compelled cormac to give help in bringing him to justice. the old rogue was perfectly prepared to save his own neck, and wrote letters which induced the new-comer to remain on the coast and send a large part of his crew ashore for cattle. monson, who watched his compulsory allies with sleepless vigilance, seized the opportunity to board the pirate while a large part of his crew were on shore. hauling his boats over a strip of land between broadhaven and the place where the pirates were, he dropped during the night on the deceived malefactors and captured them without difficulty. his new prisoners were treated with less tenderness than the cormacs. "examining the behaviour of all the pirates, of many he picked out the worst, who had tasted twice before of his majesty's gracious pardon." this time they tasted of his majesty's justice, being duly hanged as a terror to evil-doers. if monson is to be believed, this severe example cleared the irish coast of pirates, but he undoubtedly overrated the efficacy of the remedy. years afterwards, when strafford came to ireland as lord deputy, the coast was still infested with pirates, and very stringent measures had been taken to re-establish security for trade. this story, though it may seem somewhat out of place when told at such length in a history of the royal navy, has appeared to me to be worth repeating. one concrete example will do more than any number of general statements to show what the condition of a country was. all through the reign of elizabeth and the first two stuarts piracy was common on the coast of great britain and ireland. sir william monson's experiences show why it could flourish. the number of ships kept in regular commission by the king was small, and much of their time was taken up in carrying princes and ambassadors between england and the continent. in outlying districts there were always persons of the stamp of mr. cormac and his "hackney daughters," who were prepared to give the pirates a friendly welcome in consideration of a share of the booty. traders were ready to buy their stolen goods. and it is even obvious, from monson's casual mention of members of his crew who had been pirates, that nobody thought very much the worse of a man for having followed the trade once in a way. the sea was still very lawless, and the royal navy had hardly yet taken its police duties firmly in hand. the improvement in shipbuilding which took place in this reign was mainly the work of the most able member of a remarkable family of shipwrights, sea-captains, and navy officials who are found engaged in and about the royal dockyards from the reign of edward vi. to close on the end of the reign of charles ii. phineas pett, who was born in and died in , was the son of peter pett, master shipwright at deptford in the reign of queen elizabeth. he received a better education than had probably been given to any previous member of his family. after preliminary schooling at rochester and greenwich, he entered the famous puritan college, the "house of pure emanuel," at cambridge in . the death of his father, in , left him destitute, and phineas was for some years compelled to pick up a precarious livelihood in the dockyards or in sea voyages. in he entered the service of lord howard, which no doubt means his service as lord high admiral, but not in any domestic capacity. his foot being now well down, pett kept his place, and very considerably bettered it before long. having been employed by howard to build a miniature ship for henry, eldest son of james i., he attracted the favourable notice of the prince, who in his short life certainly proved that he possessed a remarkable eye for men of brains and character. pett's favour drew upon him a great deal of jealousy in the dockyard, and he was at last openly accused by his rivals of incompetence. but he stood his ground stoutly, and finally justified himself in an inquiry held before the king at woolwich. james, like all the house of stuart, had a taste for clever scientific men. he was mainly a scholar and a theologian, as his son charles i. was a judge of pictures and of literature, and as his grandson charles ii. had a taste for natural science and chemical experiments. but he could understand the merits of such a question as was debated before him at woolwich, and his inclination would be to support an educated man against the merely practical men who were accusing him of bungling because he departed from their familiar old rules of thumb. the whole house of stuart, indeed, had a liking for ships and sea affairs, which they showed even before they became kings of england. under royal protection, pett was able to bring about great improvements in construction by reducing the amount of timber used and relying on better proportion for strength. the great ship called the =prince royal=, designed by him, and launched in , was the finest yet built for the crown, and he surpassed her in the =sovereign of the seas=, launched in , during the reign of charles i. he established his family so firmly in the dockyards, that they overran all the offices in them by the middle of the century. the labours of this skilful shipbuilder would have been of little avail but for the exertions of others among the king's servants who in prevailed over the interested opposition of the lord high admiral to the appointment of a committee to inquire into the state of the navy. even in the great queen's reign all had not been perfect in the dockyards. during her later years, when they had lost the vigilant supervision of hawkins, a good deal of corruption had begun to creep in. under the lax government of james i., and when there was no longer a permanent state of war to brace the energies of the admirals and captains, and to apply a perpetual check on the execution of work, the naval administration fell rapidly into an inefficient condition. as early as there had been talk of an inquiry. but lord howard of effingham, or, to give him his later title, the earl of nottingham, used his influence to put a stop to the proposal. he no doubt considered that he was personally insulted when the conduct of the department under his command was called in question. yet inquiry was certainly needed. we cannot believe that the hero who led the english fleets against the armada, and was joint commander with essex in the triumphant expedition to cadiz, was himself guilty of corruption. the truth is, that he looked upon the minute examination of accounts as work beneath his dignity, and fit only for subordinate officials, whom he regarded as his servants. he managed the navy, in fact, very much as a profuse, easy-going noble would have conducted the affairs of his own house. of course he was robbed by his servants, and, when they were accused of misconduct, he resented the interference as implying a reflection on his judgment. so fraud and peculation flourished under the protection of his honourable name. the corruption at the admiralty was so flagrant that another attempt to set going an inquiry was made in . it went so far that a commission was actually drafted, but nottingham, thoroughly aroused at this second insult, consulted lawyers as to the legality of the document, and threatened a constitutional opposition. again he succeeded in staving off inquiry. four years later, however, a third, and this time a successful, effort was made to overhaul the admiralty. the howard family were in conflict with the rising favour of george villiers, afterwards duke of buckingham, and the admiral suffered with the rest. in this case there can be no question that the interests of the nation were on the side of buckingham. the commission which took the work in hand contained some excellent men of business. lionel cranfield, earl of middlesex, was one, and another was sir john coke, a model public servant, though a somewhat mean-spirited man, who continued in the service of the crown far into the reign of charles i. the report issued by this body in september gives a sufficiently lamentable account of the condition into which the navy had fallen during the fifteen years since the death of queen elizabeth. it was to little use that pett was building finer ships, when they were allowed to go to decay, through mismanagement in the dockyards, from the very day they were built. as to the scandalous defects which had been steadily increasing under the lax supervision of nottingham, there can be no sort of question. the commissioners, to begin with, found that no accounts had been prepared for the last four years, and they were driven to discover what the expenditure of the navy had been by the laborious process of going over all the warrants issued during that period. after what appears to have been a very fair and careful examination, they came to a decision that the money spent yearly on an average during the last four years had been £ , , s. d. it was far more than elizabeth had spent to maintain an efficient sea force in war-time, and yet it could not keep the navy from decay. out of a nominal force of forty-three ships, sixteen were either non-existent or absolutely rotten. the others, though they were capable of being repaired, were in so bad a condition as to need a thorough refit, and this although the cost of the navy had been increasing rapidly. the report of the commissioners is a model of good order and explicit convincing statement. it leaves no doubt on the mind why it was that the strength of the navy decreased as its expenses grew. the commissioners give an account of the administration, which is now of great historical interest. first, they draw up a list of the officers to whom the government of the navy was entrusted, showing us the whole establishment as it stood in , distinguishing between the old order created by henry viii. and the recent additions:-- the ancient patentees and their payments are these-- the lord high admiral of england £ the lieutenants of the admiralty, which was not bestowed all queen elizabeth's time the treasurer of the navy for his fee, travelling charges, boat hire and clerks comptroller of the navy, the like surveyor of the navy for the like surveyors of victuals for the like clerk of the navy for the like keeper of the stores-general for the like keeper of the stores at portsmouth three assistants to the officers a master for grounding the great ships three master shipwrights (at first but two) a pilot or master for the black deeps _____________ total £ the new erections since his majesty's reign-- a captain-general of the narrow seas for his fee at s. per diem, one clerk at d. and sixteen servants at d. per mensem--£ , s. d. besides £ , s. d. paid to him by the treasurer and victualler of the navy. a vice-admiral of the narrow seas for his owne fee at s. per diem, and eight servants at s. per mensem, the later by privy seal only, £ , s. d., besides £ , s. paid by the treasurer of the navy. another for service at the narrow seas at the like rate of s. per diem, £ , s. d., besides s. per diem when he serveth at sea. a surveyor of tonnage, £ , s. d. the charge that groweth hereby is per medium, £ , s. d. a storekeeper at woolwich, £ , s. d. the store not worth s. clearer of the roads, £ . besides £ , s. d. paid by the treasurer of the navy. a captain and twenty soldiers in upnor, £ , s. total, £ , s. d. other new patents granted by his majesty and paid by the treasurer of the navy. a keeper of the outstores at deptford, a new office, £ , s. d. clerk of the check at deptford} clerk of the check at woolwich} old offices and fees. clerk of the check at chatham } the commissioners, after pointing out in general and in particular that the condition of his majesty's ships was very bad, give nine "causes" why it was no better. eight of these are chiefly of the nature of illustrations of the ninth and last, which in itself is a masterly summary of the causes and consequences of bad administration. "we find the chief and inward causes of all disorder to be the multitude of officers, and poverty of wages, and the chief officers commit all the trust and business to their inferiors and clerks, whereof some have part of their maintenance from the merchants that deliver in the provisions which they are trusted to receive, and these men are also governed by the chief officers' verbal directions, which the directors will not give under their hands when it is required; and which of all is the most inconvenient, they are the warrants and vouchers for the issuing of all his majesty's moneys and stores, who are most interested in the greatness of his expence. "and therefore the business ever was and is still so carried, that neither due survey is taken of ought that cometh in, nor orderly warrant given for most that goeth out, nor any particular account made, nor now possible to be made, of any one main worke or service that is done." the officials could not live on their pay, and were driven to cheat; and as this was nearly as much the case with the seniors as with the juniors, there was no supervision. some of the cheating took the form of downright lying; thus, of the forty-three ships on the list of the navy, three were not in existence, even in a rotten condition. the =bonaventure= was broken up seven years before the commission was formed, and yet the king had continued to pay £ a year for her keep. £ , s. d. was still charged for the =advantage=, burnt five years before, and £ , s. d. for the =charles=. small pilferings were the rule, and the system upon which the men were paid almost invited fraud. thus the boatswains, whose regular allowance was £ , s. d., when engaged as caretakers of the king's ships in harbour, were allowed to make a profit by buying what were known as "old mucks" and "brown paper stuff" at a cheap rate. these striking names were applied to cables, moorings, and cordage generally, which were supposed to be too worn out for the king's service. of this refuse the officials were allowed to make what profit they could. the reader will perceive at once with what delightful facility this system could be worked at the king's expense. much larger quantities of cable were used than were necessary, and so soon as any part was slightly damaged, the boatswains were allowed to take the whole as "old mucks" and "brown paper stuff." then they resold it at a very handsome profit. if the little men behaved in this way, it was because their chiefs not only condoned, but shared their malpractices. the king was charged too dear even for the stores he did receive, and he was made to pay for articles never purchased and for work not done for him. as might have been expected, his establishments swarmed with useless servants, the hangers-on of his higher officials. a pathetic interest attaches to the names of some of the useless officials who were detected by the commissioners. we read, for instance, of john austin, master, aged and blind, of john avale, boatswain, aged and blind, of thomas butler, gunner, aged and heretofore a man of great service, and may still be an instructor of others, and of john causton, gunner, maimed in service. these, we may safely believe, were aged men, worn out in the wars of queen elizabeth, who were suffered by charity to retain offices for which they were no longer fit. the commissioners recommend them for reasonable pensions. though such cases as these were pardonable, yet the system was bad. the fact that one aged seaman or soldier who well deserved a pension had been suffered to retain a post long after he had become unable to perform the duties, was sure to be made an excuse for putting in incompetent persons who had never seen any service at all. having drawn this picture of the navy as it was, the commissioners went on to draft a scheme by which it could again be put on a more creditable footing. they undertook to meet the ordinary and extraordinary expenses for £ , a year, to refit the ships which were still capable of being made serviceable, to build new ones, and to do the whole work of re-establishing the navy within five years. their method was one adopted at all times by administrators who have had to deal with such a state of affairs as is described above. they dismissed superfluous officials and raised the salaries of those that were retained. they set themselves a definite scheme to carry out, and made a careful calculation of the sums of money required to execute it. the establishment of the navy, according to the plan of the commissioners, was to consist of no more than thirty vessels, but then they were to be, taken together, larger by three thousand and fifty tons than the navy of queen elizabeth "when it was greatest and flourished most." the average size of the ships was therefore very much increased. taking one with another, they measured a little over five hundred and seventy tons. by this scheme had been fully carried out. the execution of the reform was accompanied, and indeed we may say was secured, by a change in the administration. it had become impossible that nottingham should remain any longer lord high admiral. his retirement in was soothed by pensions, and he received the sum of £ from his successor as the price of his office. one of the evils of which the commissioners had to complain was the sale of offices, but the practice continued long, especially in the case of the great men. nottingham's successor was the showy duke of buckingham, one of the best abused personages in english history. it is, however, to his credit that under his administration a great deal was done in the interests of the navy. if he did not do it himself, he at least did not interfere with sir john coke and other hard-working subordinates. nor was the change of lord high admiral all. a complete organic change was carried out. the old offices of treasurer, comptroller, surveyor, and clerk of the acts were suppressed, and the members of the committee were entrusted with the whole administration of the navy, under the title of commissioners. in spite of this vigorous cleansing of the dockyards and the navy office, maladministration was by no means at an end with the navy. during the reign of charles some at least of these evils reappeared. king charles took a keen interest in his navy, and did much to increase its strength, but there were permanent conditions during all the existence of the stuart dynasty which militated against efficiency. these kings were always aiming at more than they had the resources to execute. they were at all times on bad terms with their parliament, and so could not raise a great revenue. thus they were for ever short of money, and were compelled to connive at malpractices on the part of servants whom they could not pay. dishonest men were not satisfied with robbing the king of just so much as would make good their own arrears of salary. they repaid themselves with interest, and very often by defrauding the soldiers and sailors of their food and poor wages. there was also a defect in the character of the stuarts which lord dartmouth defined to pepys very forcibly as they were talking together before dinner on their way home from tangier. "he," pepys writes, "besides observed something spragg had said that our masters the king and duke of york were good at giving good orders and encouragement to their servants in office to be strict in keeping good order, but were never found stable enough to support officers in the performance of their orders. by which no man was safe in doing them service." this was not less true of the first james and charles than of the second, and therefore it was that in spite of cleverness, of a distinct understanding of the conditions which made for efficiency, and of the best intentions, their navy was for ever ill supplied, ill fitted, and manned by discontented men. the sailor who starved in the king's service, and saw those who robbed him in the enjoyment of the royal favour, ended by laying the blame on the king. if all the promises made to them had been kept, neither men nor officers would have had reason to complain. the sailors' wages had risen steadily from the s. a month at which they stood at the beginning of the reign of henry viii. they rose to s. d. under king edward, and in they were increased to s. fourteen shillings were given to the crews of the ships sent against algiers in , and charles i. fixed s. as the regular wage of a sailor. at a time when the purchasing power of money was greater than it is now, this was fair pay. the old system of compensating the officers by "dead pays" disappeared in the reign of elizabeth. in the reign of charles i. the captain received from £ , s. d. to £ a month, according to the size of his ship; the lieutenant, who was only carried in vessels above the third rate, from £ , s. to £ , s., and the master from £ , s. d. to £ , s. d. warrant officers were paid from £ , s. d. to £ , s. the allowance of provisions was ample in quantity. seven lbs. of biscuits, four lbs. of beef, two lbs. of pork, one quart of peas, three pints of oatmeal, six oz. of butter, and twelve oz. of cheese, besides all the fresh fish which was caught, without any deduction for it, were supposed to be served out to the men every week. they were also entitled to an ample allowance of beer. but when a large force was collected for service during any length of time, it was the common rule to divide four men's food among six. at all times, too, the quality of the provisions was liable to be bad. complaints were particularly common in regard to the beer. the badness of the stores was often largely due to the difficulty of keeping them sweet during prolonged cruises in small wooden vessels, ballasted with sand, into which all the leakage of the beer-barrels drained, and which was soaked in bilge water; but the stores were often bad to begin with. during this reign we first hear of the division of the king's ships into classes, called rates. at a later period they were classified by armament, but in the reign of charles i. the division was made by the number of the crews. first rates carried and men, second rates and , third rates and , fourth rates and , fifth rates and , and sixth rates and . the long peace which began with the accession of james i. had the effect of throwing back the development of the navy for some time. during the later years of queen elizabeth, a separate class of sea officers was beginning to be formed. sir william monson, for instance, was as much a naval officer as lord hawke. he went to sea young, he passed through all grades of the service, he was a trained seaman, and yet a gentleman who had received the education of his class. constant war had begun to teach englishmen that the business of commanding a fighting ship at sea required something more than a knowledge of military discipline and the habit of carrying arms. if king james had pursued the policy of constant hostility with spain advocated by the small party whose best-known representative was sir walter raleigh, it is probable that a corps of naval officers would soon have been formed by the mere necessities of the case. but when peace was signed with spain, the necessity for maintaining a great naval force came to an end. the ships were laid up, the crews were disbanded, the officers either retired into private life, or were employed by the king in other ways. the seamen among them betook themselves to the service of the east india company, to trade, or to colonising ventures in america. thus, when the time came again to fit out great fleets, no progress had been made in the formation of a body of sea officers. in the reign of james i. and his son, it was not much less the rule than it had been with henry viii., that the captain of a king's ship was a gentleman with little or no knowledge of sea affairs, and that the seaman was confined to the inferior position of master. there were exceptions to this rule. sir john pennington, who was much employed by charles as admiral in the narrow seas, was a seaman bred, but even he was commonly superseded by some noble whenever the king made a serious effort to fit out a great fleet. the one important naval expedition of king james's reign was directed against the pirates of algiers in . the despatch of this force was of the nature of an innovation on the usual policy of james's government. it had not hitherto been the custom even to try to afford english traders effective protection beyond the narrow seas. there was no such permanent naval force as could have done the work, even if the government had been disposed to make the attempt. according to the establishment drafted by the commission of , the guard to be maintained at home was to consist of only four vessels, of which the largest was tons. this trifling squadron was not to be expected to do more than cope with such pirates "of base condition" as the ex-boatswain's mate clarke, whom sir william monson hunted in the shetlands and the hebrides. it was utterly unable to afford protection to english traders beyond the narrow seas, nor indeed did they expect to be protected. trade to the east and the levant was conducted by great privileged companies, who sent their ships out well armed, and maintained agents at foreign courts. as regards the east indies, it was long before a king's ship made its appearance in the waters frequented by the company's squadrons. but the turkish company, which traded to the levant, was less strong, and was also subject to attack by more formidable enemies. the algerine pirates were then, in even a greater degree than was the case later, a standing menace to all ships trading in the mediterranean, and even in the more accessible parts of the atlantic. on one occasion they carried off a great part of the population of the canary islands, on another they sacked baltimore in the south of ireland. the vessels of the turkey company were to a certain extent able to protect themselves, and on several occasions they beat off the attacks of the pirates. but the smaller traders fell easy victims. to the disgrace of europe, a large proportion of the pirates were renegades; one of them was an englishman of the name of ward, formerly a boatswain in the navy. the seaports of the time were full of stories of englishmen who had been carried off by these rovers, and had in the majority of cases remained in slavery, unless they were ransomed by their relations. now and then some english sailors who had been taken would escape by turning the tables on their captors. thus, for instance, the =jacob= of bristol, a ship of tons, was recaptured by four of her men who had been left on board with the prize-crew. they took the opportunity of a storm, when they were called upon to help the moslem pirates, who were clumsy sailors. as the prize-master was lending a hand to strike the sails, the four englishmen deftly gave him "a toss overboard." as he tried to clamber up again by the help of a rope which was trailing alongside, he was knocked down "by the handle of a pump." the prize-crew were then overpowered in detail, and the vessel carried into san lucar in spain, where the captive mohammedans were themselves promptly sold for slaves. a somewhat similar story is told of one john rawlings, skipper of a small vessel of forty tons, named the =nicholas= of plymouth. he was taken prisoner outside the straits of gibraltar and carried to algiers, where he was sold as a slave to an english renegade of the name of john goodall. goodall employed him in the crew of one of the various pirate craft he owned, and rawlings had the good fortune and dexterity to organise and carry through a conspiracy among the christian slaves, who overpowered the mohammedan masters and carried the ship into plymouth. these, however, were exceptional cases, and of those who fell into the hands of these pirates there were few who ever saw an end to their captivity, unless they had friends to ransom them or were prepared to become renegades. in a fleet was at last fitted out against these enemies of the human race. king james acted at least as much under the influence of the spaniards, to whom algiers was a perpetual menace, as in the interest of his own subjects. neither the spaniard nor the english trader profited by this solitary example of king james's naval enterprise. the expedition was too futile to deserve detailed notice in the history of the english navy, when so many and such very different events lie close ahead of us. yet the constitution of the squadron is interesting, as showing within a moderate space how the fleets of that time were composed. his majesty's ships. ships. tons. men. brass guns. commanders. =the lion=, admiral sir robert mansel. =vanguard=, vice-admiral sir richard hawkins. =rainbow=, rear-admiral sir thomas button. =constant reformation= captain arth. manwaring. =antelope= sir henry palmer. =convertine= captain thomas love. merchant ships. iron guns. =golden phenix= captain samuel argall. =samuel= captain chr. harris. =marygold= sir john fearn. =zouch phenix= captain john pennington. =barbary= captain thomas porter. =centurion= sir francis tanfield. =primrose= sir john hamden. =hercules= captain eusaby cave. =neptune= captain robert haughton. =merchant-bonaventure= captain john chidley. =restore= captain george raymond. =marmaduke= captain thomas harbert. the command of the squadron was given to sir robert mansel, an old officer of the elizabethan time, who had fought against the armada, and had seen much service. he was a cousin of lord howard of effingham, had been a greedy if not corrupt official, and had taken an active share in supporting the lord admiral in his opposition to the commission of . the second in command, sir richard hawkins, was the son of the more famous sir john. he had in the former reign been taken prisoner by the spaniards in the south seas after a gallant fight. during his captivity he had been converted to roman catholicism. his account of his voyage to the south seas is, next to the _naval tracts_ of sir william monson, the best contemporary account of the sea life in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries. the captain john pennington who appears among the commanders of the merchant ships, is the sir john pennington of later years. although not a man of great ability or considerable achievements, he is interesting as a type. he belonged to a family of puritan tradesmen, who came originally from henham in essex, but were settled in london. the seaman did not share the politics of his family, but was, in the fullest sense of the word, a king's servant, making it his boast that it was his one rule to obey his master's orders. he began life as a merchant's skipper, and sailed in the employment of raleigh in the last voyage to guiana. he had endeavoured to enter the service of the east india company, without success, although (if it ought not to be because) he had the patronage of buckingham. the same patron probably obtained for him the command of the =zouch phenix= on this voyage. from this time forward he was regularly in the employment of the crown, and generally in command of the narrow seas. the qualities which made his fortune lie on the surface. he was, as has already been said, the king's servant and nothing more, ready to fight or to run away, to tell the truth or to lie, even to tell manifestly incompatible lies, upon the order of anybody whom the king told him to obey. such a man was invaluable. the combination of perfect loyalty with a total absence of scruple is never very common. charles appreciated pennington's qualities to the full, and, when the civil war was about to break out, even inclined to give him the great office of lord high admiral. the expedition against the algerine pirates left england on the th october . in june of the following year it turned homeward, having done nothing in the interval except make one futile attempt to defraud the dey of algiers, by sending a sham consul, who was, in fact, a common sailor dressed up for the occasion, and another no less feeble effort to burn the pirate ships in the harbour. it spent a great part of its time at alicante, or in the balearic islands. it went aimlessly to and fro between these places and algiers. it was in harbour when it ought to have been cruising against the pirates, and was at sea when the pirates were safe back in algiers. it finally returned, having done much more harm than good by encouraging the algerines in their belief of their own strength. king james died on the th of march . the navy which he left his son was still at the strength fixed by the commissioners of . as compared with the navy of queen elizabeth, it shows a decrease of either nine or eleven, for there is some doubt as to the exact number of the king's ships, and an increase of about in tonnage. the work before the navy in the new reign was, to judge by appearances, very serious. the failure of the negotiations for a spanish marriage, and the wounds inflicted on the vanity, both of charles and of buckingham, during their journey to madrid, had provoked a war. it was not long before the management of the new favourite added a war with france to the existing struggle with spain. formidable as the task looks, there is no reason to doubt that the royal navy, aided by the levies of merchant ships always made when a great fleet was fitted out for sea at that period, would have been amply sufficient. spain was already exhausted, and was only too happy to be able to repel attack, while france had, as yet, no navy at all. but in order that the strength of england on the sea could be fully exerted, there was need for good management, a full treasury, and hearty zeal on the part of the nation. all these three conditions were wanted. therefore the enterprises of one kind or other which went on from to were little less languid, and were even more disgraceful, than mansel's useless demonstration against algiers. their political history is of immense interest, but it is unnecessary to be told here. the miserable business of the surrender of the seven english ships to the king of france, to be used against rochelle in , tells us much about the character of charles, of buckingham, and of pennington, who executed his part of a discreditable transaction stolidly, though not without reluctance; but it is of no interest in the history of the navy proper. the expedition to cadiz in , the despatch of the earl of denbigh with a fleet to cruise in the channel in , the attack on the ile de rhé in , then the two equally useless cruises of denbigh in april and may and of lindsey in september and october of , were indeed all either in whole or in part naval undertakings. but they were so languid, so barren of incident worthy to be remembered, and so wholly without result, that to do more than mention them very briefly would be to rob passages of our naval history, which really deserve to be recorded at length, of their due space. the expedition to cadiz was a mere parody of the great foray of queen elizabeth's reign. the fleet was raised in the same way, consisting partly of ships of the royal navy, and partly of vessels levied on the maritime counties. the command, too, was in the hands of men of the same classes, that is to say, nobles and soldiers, with their subordinate council of seamen. but the men and the times and the spirit were very different. the commander, sir edward cecil, lord wimbledon, was a commonplace officer of the english regiments of the low countries, and he had no associate of marked authority or experience. the young earl of essex, son of elizabeth's unhappy favourite, and later on the lord general of the parliament in the civil war, repeated his father's gallantry in the attack on the fort of puntal. the rest of the history of the voyage to cadiz is made up of divided councils, vacillation, drunkenness, and failure. the share of the fleet was confined, apart from the attack on the puntal fort, to carrying the troops there and bringing them back. in , when war had broken out with france, we had some success in capturing french prizes in the channel, but there was no enemy to fight, which, as the fleet were very badly equipped, was fortunate. the expedition to the ile de rhé in was the cadiz voyage over again, but worse. here the fleet had little more to do than to carry the soldiers out at the end of june, and bring back all that remained of them at the end of october. in two fleets were sent to succour rochelle, where the huguenots were making their last stand against richelieu. they went out, they came back, and they did nothing. a large part of the discredit of this four years of failure must be thrown on the flighty incapacity of buckingham, but some share of it is due to the conditions in which the king's government was working. charles i. disagreed with his parliament from the beginning. therefore he never had enough money, and his armaments, fitted out by makeshifts, were maintained from hand to mouth. efficiency was hardly to be expected in such circumstances. the unpopularity of the wars reacted on the king's forces. the navy was still in a state of transition, being neither altogether a regular force nor altogether sea militia, but a combination of the two. a regular navy, properly officered, well disciplined and paid, will always fight well. a sea militia will, in favourable circumstances, do very fairly. when there is a great national enthusiasm, a sense of the need for exertion, the hope of booty, and capable leaders, it will render good service, as was shown both in the fighting against the armada, and at cadiz in . but in the early years of charles i. all these conditions were wanting. the merchant ships, when pressed for the service, came unwillingly. their owners and crews were uncertain of getting their pay from the crown. the spirits of the men were damped when they saw the destitution of the king's soldiers. their wish was to get through as soon as they could, to suffer as little damage as might be, and to return at the earliest possible day to their ordinary peaceful and profitable avocations. at cadiz they behaved with actual cowardice, and at the ile de rhé they certainly showed no zeal, whereas the royal ships did the trifling fighting which had to be done very creditably. the deduction that the crown must make itself independent of their feeble aid was obvious, and, when next england was engaged in a serious naval war, measures were taken to arm a force solely belonging to the state. this was not, however, to be done by the government of charles i. the king never had the revenue needed for the maintenance of a really great navy. his efforts to obtain one were among the causes of the disasters which finally overwhelmed him. charles was very conscious of the need for a fleet. indeed, a less intelligent man must have seen the necessity. the naval power of holland was increasing with great rapidity, while richelieu was supplying france with an effective navy. the relations of england with her neighbours were always uneasy, and at one time the french and the dutch were talking of an alliance, which was to end in dividing the spanish netherlands and the sea between them. in the presence of this danger charles i. made serious efforts to raise the strength of the navy. he built no less than vessels. ten of these were of about tons each, and were known by the odd name of the =whelps=, numbered consecutively from one to ten. the great =sovereign of the seas= was one of the ships built to bring the navy to its proper strength. in the navy had reached the figure of ships of , or , tons, carrying in all guns. when the civil war broke out, it numbered ships of , tons, of which were first rates, measuring on an average tons each. the difference was due to the shedding of small ships. the means which the king took to find money for all this building are famous in english history. the constitutional aspects of the writs of ship-money do not concern our subject. it is of course obvious that if the king could tax the whole country for the support of the fleet, if he alone was to be the judge of the amount demanded and of the use to be made of it, he could raise any revenue he pleased. in view of the constant attempts made by charles i. to escape from the control of his parliament, it is not wonderful that the country party, as the opposition was called, suspected him of some such scheme. yet, as a matter of fact, it appears that when the king took to calling in peace on the service of the coast counties, which had as yet only been demanded in war, when he commuted the actual service of men and ships for money payments, when he extended the assessments to the inland counties, he was unaffectedly resolved to spend the fund thus raised on his fleet. the administrative defects of his reign are undeniable, and have been pointed out already. yet, when the civil war began, the ships and the guns were there. the service they rendered to his domestic enemies throughout the civil war may be taken as satisfactory evidence that both were good. we possess an elaborate description of the most famous of the ships built by phineas pett for king charles, written by thomas heywood. "this famous vessel was built at woolwich in . she was in length by the keel feet or thereabout, within some few inches; her main breadth feet; in length, from the fore-end of the beak-head to the after-end of the stern, _a prora ad puppim_, feet; and in height, from the bottom of her keel to the top of her lanthorn, feet; bore five lanthorns, the biggest of which would hold ten persons upright; had three flush decks, a forecastle, half-deck, quarter-deck, and round-house. her lower tier had ... ports for cannon and demi-cannon, middle tier for culverines and demi ditto third tier for other ordnance forecastle and two half-decks have or ports more within-board, for murdering pieces, besides pieces of chace-ordnance forward, and right aft, and many loopholes in the cabins for musquet-shot. she had eleven anchors, one of pounds weight. she was of the burthen of tons. she was built by peter pett, esq., under the direction of his father, captain phineas pett, one of the principal officers of the navy. she hath two galleries besides, and all of most curious carved work, and all the sides of the ship carved with trophies of artillery and types of honour, as well belonging to sea as land, with symbols appertaining to navigation; also their two sacred majesties badges of honour; arms with several angels holding their letters in compartments, all which works are gilded over, and no other colour but gold and black. one tree, or oak, made four of the principal beams, which was feet of strong serviceable timber in length, feet diameter at the top, and feet at the stub or bottom. * * * * * "upon the stem-head a cupid, or child bridling a lion; upon the bulk-head, right forward, stand six statues in sundry postures; these figures represent concilium, cura, conamen, vis, virtus, victoria. upon the hamers of the water are four figures, jupiter, mars, neptune, eolus; on the stern, victory, in the midst of a frontispiece; upon the beak-head sitteth king edgar on horseback, trampling on seven kings." according to an ancient custom which at last, when it had outlived its time, became a nuisance, the =sovereign of the seas= was profusely ornamented. yet she was a strong ship, and under a variety of names, dictated by the principles of her successive masters, took part in all the naval wars of england until she was accidentally burnt at chatham in . the method of administering the navy underwent successive modifications during the reign of king charles. when he ascended the throne, buckingham held the post of lord high admiral, and the work of administering the navy was done in his name by the members of the commission of . when buckingham was stabbed in the passage of the little house in the high street of portsmouth, which he occupied as his headquarters in , the king had recourse to a method of governing his navy curiously similar to the system now in use. he put the office of lord high admiral in commission. the persons entrusted with the duty seem to have also discharged the work of the navy office. the military and the civil functions of the navy were, in fact, joined in the hands of the same body of persons, very much as is the case now. there was, however, one important difference. the commissioners appointed by charles also held other great offices. they were jackson, bishop of london, who was also lord high treasurer; the earl of lindsey, the great chamberlain; the earl of dorset, chamberlain to the queen; lord cottington, chancellor of the exchequer; the elder sir henry vane, comptroller of the king's household; and the two secretaries of state, sir john coke and sir francis windebanke. this commission, with certain changes in the persons, held office until . under this interregnum it was that the two naval demonstrations known as the ship-money fleets were fitted out in and . the object was to make an effective assertion of the king of england's right to the sovereignty of the seas of britain. they were to put a stop to all warlike operations on the part of spaniards, dutch, or french, to compel all fishermen to pay for a licence from the king of england, and in a general way to produce an effect both imposing and terrifying on the minds of all foreign rulers. the fleet of was perhaps in real power the greatest sent forth by a ruler of england. the command was given to algernon percy, tenth earl of northumberland, who succeeded the earl of lindsey on the commission of the navy. northumberland was a magnificent specimen of a great noble. according to clarendon, if he had thought the king as much above him as he thought himself above all other considerable men, he would have been a good subject. as it was, he was mainly a great noble who held himself apart, and who lived through a very stormy time without incurring any serious misfortune--a feat, perhaps, partly to be accounted for by the fact that at times of crises he was a little apt to follow the example of the young man who went away sorrowful because he had great possessions. as admiral commanding the ship-money fleets, northumberland had little opportunity to render service. the utmost he could do was to extort the price of a licence from a few unlucky dutch herring fishermen. the abuses of the navy attracted his attention, and he proposed a scheme for their reform. when it met with no attention, the pride of the noble got the better of the zeal of the reformer. northumberland declined to put himself again in the way of being snubbed, declaring that he would make no more suggestions till his opinion was asked for. in fact, the abuses of which he complained arose from the very nature of the king's government. charles, by the help of ship-money and the other devices elaborated by his lawyers, was able to raise money enough to build ships and equip an occasional fleet, but he had not the revenue required to maintain a permanent force. his efforts were necessarily sporadic. his fleets were equipped by fits and starts, and there was no order or coherence in the efforts. in the confusion, the pilferers of the dockyards saw their opportunity, and did not fail to take advantage of it. in the king made the second change of his reign in naval administration. in the march of that year he appointed northumberland lord high admiral. it had been intended to keep the office vacant for the little duke of york, now a boy of five years old. but in the difficulties of his position induced charles, who was anxious to please a man so powerful in the north of england, to name northumberland lord high admiral. the commission was, however, only during the good pleasure of the king, and not for life, as in the case of nottingham and buckingham. the navy now reverted to the old system of government by an admiral and the officers of the navy board, the treasurer, the comptroller, the surveyor, and the clerk of the navy, with their subordinate officers. the administration of northumberland, which lasted till june , when he was dismissed by the king in bitter wrath, is of great importance in the history of england. it contains nearly, if not quite, the most discreditable incident in naval history. in the september of the spaniards sent out a great fleet with reinforcements for their garrisons in flanders. it arrived at the mouth of the channel on the th of the month, and was at once attacked by the dutch. a running fight took place along the channel, in which the dutch, who were constantly reinforced, soon gained the advantage. the spanish admiral, don antonio de oquendo, the son of the don miguel de oquendo who had served in the armada, took refuge in the downs. his government was acting by arrangement with the king's, and he had reason to believe that he would be helped, or would at least be protected from attack, in english waters. as a matter of fact, king charles made an effort, which no englishman can think of without shame, to turn the necessities of the spaniards into ready money, by alternately offering to let the dutch destroy them, or to afford them protection, according to which of the courses he happened to think would prove most profitable. northumberland, in london, could not make out what the king would be at, and said so to pennington, who was at dover with a squadron far too weak to inspire any respect in the dutch. they, again, were encouraged by the great french minister richelieu, who was now triumphantly carrying out his anti-spanish policy, and were commanded by a man for whose courage no risk was too great, the indomitable martin harpertz (herbertson) tromp. the peddling vacillations of the unlucky english king were all cut short, and his hopes of profit blown to the four winds of heaven, when tromp on the th of october fell upon the spaniards, and destroyed at least three-fourths of them, with the most absolute and insolent disregard of pennington's squadron. the great ship-money fleet, for the sake of which the poor king had strained his prerogative and had forfeited so much of the confidence of his subjects, had proved totally incapable of defending the honour of england when it was seriously attacked, though no doubt it had been able to extort a few fees from the skippers of dutch herring busses. whether the anger which northumberland undoubtedly felt at being made to play the poor figure he had cut in this shameful transaction had anything to do with the course he followed four years later, must necessarily be a mere matter of guess-work. certainly, if he meant to be revenged on his master, he could not well have taken a course more effectual than that which he actually adopted. it was this representative of the great feudal house of percy who did more than any other single man to seal the king's fate by putting the fleet into the hands of his domestic enemy. in the long parliament, northumberland sided with the opposition. he had been loaded with favours by the king, and was always profuse in declarations of loyalty. yet he put the fleet into the hands of the king's enemies, by an act which no sophistry can show to have been one of other than deliberate hostility to his master. when parliament made its demand on the king for the control of the "militia," that is to say, of the whole armed force of the nation, it naturally included the fleet. the command of the sea was vital to it. if the king could have obtained help from abroad, his position would have been far stronger than it was. for this very reason, the king was eager to retain possession of his ships. while they were at the orders of northumberland, the king could hope to make little use of them. the obvious course would have been to dismiss the earl and put the fleet into trustworthy hands. but in the summer of , on the very eve of the civil war, and when the last despairing efforts were being made to arrange a compromise, this would have been an act of open hostility against the parliament. the king shrank from it, and adopted an alternative which seemed to offer him some reasonable prospect of obtaining the same practical result without provoking an immediate conflict. the lord high admiral was not necessarily what we should call the executive officer in command of the fleet. the direct command of a squadron might be given, and pretty commonly was given, to a vice-admiral, acting on the commission of the lord high admiral. a devoted vice-admiral would have served the purposes of charles very well. there was some talk of selecting the veteran sir robert mansel for the post, but the king rejected him as too old. the officer whom he finally decided to direct northumberland to appoint, was sir john pennington. parliament in the meantime had called upon the earl to appoint robert rich, the earl of warwick. northumberland referred to parliament to ask whether he should obey the king's orders, and was immediately instructed to appoint the earl of warwick. he obeyed, and the nominee of parliament was duly accepted by the fleet as its admiral. the care the king had taken to provide england with a naval force turned against himself. the loss of the fleet was one of the main causes of the final defeat of the crown in the approaching struggle with parliament. there can, of course, be no doubt that this revolutionary measure--for it was no less--could never have been carried out if the sympathies of the seafaring classes had not been largely with the parliament. there is no question that they were. the bulk of the seamen belonged to the southern and eastern counties, where the puritans were strong. they shared the opinions of their neighbours. the sailors had been conspicuous in the excited mobs which collected to protect the privileges of parliament after the king's futile attempt to arrest the five members. london was very puritan, while the baseness of goring, who spent his life in disgracing or betraying both sides, had thrown portsmouth into the hands of the parliament. it therefore held actual possession of the dockyards both in the thames and channel. yet, in spite of the advantages of its position and the sympathy of the population, it is very doubtful whether parliament could have obtained such complete command of the naval resources of the kingdom if it had not had the assistance of northumberland. the evil fortune of king charles spared him nothing. he had formed a strong fleet to maintain his power, and it was made a principal instrument of his ruin. he had, in his own bitter words, courted northumberland like a mistress, and that haughtiest of nobles repaid him by striking him a cruel blow. when it was too late, the king dismissed northumberland from his post. it would have been better for the king if he had thought less of what northumberland might do if he chose, and more of what sir john pennington would certainly do when he was ordered, and had named him lord high admiral in . chapter v the navy in the civil war authorities.--the general history of this time has been exhaustively told by mr. gardiner in his history of the civil war. mr. granville penn has collected the parliamentary orders, pamphlets, and proclamations relating to naval affairs in his life of sir william penn. the royalist side is told by clarendon, and in the papers printed by mr. warburton in his _prince rupert and the cavaliers_. in so far as his control over the navy was concerned, the reign of charles i. came to an end with the appointment of the earl of warwick as vice-admiral by the authority of the parliament in defiance of his wishes. from that time forward the fleet became a docile instrument in the hands of his enemies, and so remained throughout the whole of the first civil war. the king did indeed dismiss northumberland from his post as lord high admiral, and the order was obeyed. it may very well be that the parliament was not sorry to be rid of an officer whose powers were so great. even in the midst of armed rebellion the englishmen of the seventeenth century were great sticklers for the letter of the law, and the lord high admiral, the legality of whose appointment could not be questioned, might have caused the houses at westminster considerable trouble if he had thought fit to act against them, or even only to abstain from acting energetically on their behalf. with the minor officers there was not the same probability of trouble. the king did order them to render no obedience to parliament, and a few acted on his command. others, however, had no scruple in accepting the doctrine that the order of the king meant his order as expressed by parliament--a convenient sophistry by which many men at that period contrived to reconcile the reality of rebellion with the profession of loyalty. among those who actively assisted parliament to obtain possession of the fleet was william batten, the surveyor of the navy. he is described by clarendon as an "obscure fellow," who obtained his post by dint of a bribe. this account of him has been somewhat heatedly contradicted by modern writers. but it agrees very well with the rather off-hand account of his appointment given by northumberland. if batten belonged to the somersetshire family of that name, he was a man of strong puritan connections. however that may be, he had passed his life as a merchant skipper, trading on his own account, or as master in the navy, till he became surveyor in , when the commission of was dissolved and northumberland was appointed lord high admiral. there is a pretty general agreement of authorities that he paid for his post, which at that time does not necessarily mean that there was anything corrupt about his nomination. his assistance had a good deal to do with warwick's success in bringing the fleet to obedience in july . parliament had taken measures to arm a considerable naval force in the very first days of march, on the plea that the lords and commons had "received advertisement of extraordinary preparations made by the neighbouring princes both by land and sea; the intentions whereof have been so represented as to raise an apprehension in both houses that the public honour, peace, and safety of his majesty and his kingdom cannot be secured unless a timely course be taken for the putting of this kingdom into a condition of defence at sea as well as land." orders were issued that "all and every the ships belonging to his majesty's navy which are fit for service, and not already abroad, nor designed for this summer's fleet, be with all speed rigged and put in such a readiness as that they may soon be ready for sea." at the same time northumberland was requested "to make known to all masters and owners of such ships as now are in or about any the harbours of this kingdom, and may be of use to the public defence thereof, that it will be an acceptable service to the king and parliament if they likewise will cause their ships to be rigged, and so far put in readiness, as they may at a short warning set forth to sea upon any emergent occasion, which will be a means of great security to his majesty and his dominions." the king had left london, and was either at royston or at newmarket when he heard of this order for the "speedy rigging of the navy." northumberland was suffering from an accident which befell him more than once at a critical moment. he was ill, and could not take the command in person. it was now that the king endeavoured to secure the appointment of sir john pennington as northumberland's deputy in actual command. but parliament, in pursuit of its policy of laying hands on the militia, insisted on seeing a list of the officers in command. it was presented on the th of march. parliament confirmed most of the names, but expressly voted "that the lord admiral shall be desired by this house that the commander-in-chief of this summer's fleet under his lordship may be the earl of warwick." at the same time sir harry vane was instructed to "carry unto the lord admiral the list of those commanders that are not allowed of by this house, and desire his lordship to supply others in the place of those, and to send the names of them to the house with all convenient speed." the anger of the king was unavailing, except to deprive northumberland of his official rank. the ships in the downs submitted themselves with little or no opposition to warwick's orders. it is possible that if sir john pennington had been a man of more energy, he might have caused the parliament considerable trouble. but his virtues were those of a docile, trustworthy servant. when called upon to act for himself, he could do nothing effectual. when the king forbade his servants to submit to the orders of the officers appointed by parliament, warwick boldly put his authority to the test by calling upon the ships in the downs to accept his commission. a few only of the captains hesitated, and of these no more than two made any serious appearance of resistance. even they were ill supported by their men, for the unarmed boats' crews of other ships were allowed to board and take possession of their vessels. the sympathies of the navy were plainly with the parliament. it has been said recently that the navy was mainly neutral between the king and his enemies in this great struggle. i do not clearly understand what meaning is attached to the word neutral when it is used to describe the actions of men who give the most effective armed help to one party in a civil war. from until a part of the fleet revolted in , the navy never failed to do the king all the harm in its power. it attacked the garrisons held for him, and helped to defend the coast towns which his troops were besieging. it captured ships sailing on his service, and it fired on his wife. it is difficult to conceive what less neutral line of conduct it could possibly have followed. a more simple explanation of the action of the navy is, i think, that which has been given above. it supported the parliament because it was puritan, and this it was partly by choice, and partly of necessity. the seafaring population came from the more puritan parts of england. the same causes which made the other inhabitants puritan acted on the sailor. then, until prince rupert took bristol, every considerable seaport was in the hands of the puritans, and a sailor who would not serve the parliament would have found some difficulty in following his trade at all. writers who have been very anxious to make out that the navy played an important independent part have been at some pains to show that it held some weighty constitutional doctrines, and in particular that it combined a disinterested love of liberty with an enlightened loyalty to the king's person. it is, however, possible to feel admiration and respect for the seamen of the seventeenth century without going so far as to credit them with what there is no reason to believe they possessed. like many other englishmen at that period the sailors may have thought it possible to coerce the king, to take the command of the militia out of his hands, to beat his soldiers, to kill his friends, to make him a prisoner, and, at the end of all this, to establish his authority. in other words, they entered upon a revolution without seeing more clearly than the average presbyterian member of parliament what its inevitable consequences must be. they had been brought up to have an awful reverence for the "lord's anointed," and were glad to have a good legal-looking excuse before laying unhallowed hands upon him. therefore, with the most loyal intentions in the world, they applied themselves with much courage and zeal to the work of bringing his majesty to the mercy of the root-and-branch men. the administration of the navy was put into the hands of a parliamentary committee of both houses, under which it worked with more energy than had ever been shown during the reign of the king. the houses could pay, if not with unfailing regularity, at least much better than the king; moreover, parliament, with its power of naming committees of its own body, was able to exercise an amount of supervision which had not been possible for the crown. the work which the navy had to do was partly on the coasts of england and partly on those of ireland, but it was everywhere the same. in both cases the object was to prevent help coming from abroad to the enemies of parliament. this was to be done partly by capturing ships coming in with stores, and partly by getting, or keeping, possession of the coast towns. it was a kind of duty which required rather vigilant cruising than much actual fighting. although mention of the action of the fleet is common, the number of achievements performed by it of which memory remains is small. the majority of them are of the nature of the relief given to the town of lyme when besieged by prince maurice. the ships brought reinforcements of men and stores when the need for them was great. in this way, and on all parts of the coast, they helped the cause of the parliament. one of the feats the navy did, it is true, made no inconsiderable noise in the world, and has been the subject of much heated rhetoric. the queen henrietta maria, who had left england just when the civil war was beginning, had been busy abroad purchasing military stores for her husband. the parliament learned early in that these military provisions were about to be sent over to bridlington on the coast of yorkshire, where the army of the marquis of newcastle would be ready to receive them. whether it was also known that the queen was coming with the stores is not certain. if it had been, the principal effect of the knowledge would have been to induce parliament to strengthen batten, who was cruising in the north sea. the capture of the queen would have been an immense advantage, and her death by a cannon ball a satisfaction. the parliamentary officer had with him a small squadron of four ships. he missed the queen. the weather was stormy, and henrietta maria had to go through the unpleasant ordeal of nine days' tossing about in the north sea. at last she reached bridlington, and was able to land. here a new danger, and a worse, assailed her. batten discovered that the transports had reached harbour, and were landing their stores. he immediately took measures to prevent these from reaching the king. bringing his ships close in, he opened fire on the transport and the houses on the quay, and continued to discharge cross-bar and other shot for some hours. the royalists raised a great outcry over this "obscure fellow's" barbarous want of respect for her majesty's royal person. it is certain that she was in considerable peril. batten's shot crashed into the house in which she was sleeping, and the queen with her ladies had to take refuge in a ditch, where they lay under the shelter of the bank for some time. it was reported, to the no small glee of the parliament's partisans in london, that the queen had fled out of the house "barelegged" and almost undressed, so sudden had been her flight. however that may be, the daughter of henry iv. had gone through the perils of storm and battle with cheerful courage. she comforted her terrified ladies-in-waiting on board the transport by telling them that queens of england were never drowned. as she fled from the house at bridlington, she remembered that her favourite lap-dog had been left behind, and, in spite of the terrors of her attendants, she went back to bring it out. the cavalier writers were more indignant for the queen than she was for herself. both then and since they have denounced batten in no measured terms for the unheard-of brutality and want of chivalry in his behaviour. yet it is very hard to see what the parliamentary commander could well have done except what he did do. the king's officers could not have expected to be allowed to march into london only because they put the queen at their head, and yet that would have been almost as rational as to ask that they should be allowed to transport and land munitions of war unmolested because a great royalist lady travelled in company with them. these years of the first civil war, though they would be tedious to tell in detail, are of great importance in the history of the navy. they formed the first period in which a considerable naval force was continuously maintained. even during the reign of queen elizabeth the larger fleets had been armed only for particular expeditions, while during the reign of james there had been but one large armament, and, though the considerable displays of naval force had been comparatively numerous during the first fifteen years of charles i., still they were intermittent. but the parliament kept continually on foot what would in former times have been called a royal fleet. in there were men-of-war and hired merchant ships in commission. in this force was raised to warships, merchant ships, and colliers for service on the coast of england, besides men-of-war and hired merchant ships for service on the coast of ireland. this makes a total of vessels; and when we consider the average tonnage and weight of broadside, it represents a much greater force than was ever under the command of the officers of the great queen. the mere habit of continual cruising together in fleets must have had an instructive effect, of which the english navy was to reap the benefit in the approaching struggle with holland. regular men-of-war crews must have been gradually formed, and the parliament secured the services of a trained body of officers. before the value of this practice was to be put to the test, the nation, and the navy with it, were destined to pass through the sharpest convulsion in the whole course of our history. the first civil war came to an end, having practically settled nothing except that the parliament had proved itself strong enough to beat down the king's partisans. king charles did not, however, consider himself completely defeated. indeed he was incapable of understanding that utter overthrow was possible for the king who held his place by divine right. wicked rebels might prove too strong for him for a time, but it was his firm conviction that in the long-run no party could do without him. thus, even before he was delivered by the scots into the hands of his parliament, he began the desperate game of playing off one party of his conquerors against the other. the presbyterians remained of the opinion, as when they had begun the war, that they could beat the king utterly, and yet leave him not only king, but prepared to co-operate with them. one of the purposes for which they expected his aid was the suppression of the independents, who were fully as offensive to the presbyterians as the presbyterians were to the church of england. but the independents were the commanding element in the new model army, which represented the whole armed force of the parliament, since its other troops had been disbanded on the conclusion of the war. the independents were thoroughly resolved that, after fighting to be free from the church of england, they would not submit to dictation by the presbyterians. the king began trying to set them by the ears; and out of these rivalries and intrigues, with the help of a presbyterian army from scotland, there arose the second civil war. in this struggle the navy was more visibly affected by the divisions of the nation. its leaders had begun to discover that it was not so simple a business as they had thought, to beat the king and yet leave him uninjured. moreover, professional rivalry affected them to no small extent. the sea officers were offended when they saw the whole effective power of the nation in the hands of the new model army. their loyalty to the king was vigorously revived when they found that not only the crown, but they themselves, were at the orders of a committee of successful soldiers. so, during and , the navy was agitated by dissensions. in the spring of the party which was now, by the help of the soldiers, supreme in parliament began to be very uneasy about the spirit of the fleet. there was a great deal of dangerous talk as to the necessity for a personal treaty with the king; while ship's companies took to imitating the "agitators" who had organised the _pronunciamiento_ of the soldiers at triploe heath and elsewhere. they also had their ideas as to the settlement of the nation. in view of this untrustworthiness of their naval force, parliament decided to put the command of the fleet into other hands. batten was removed from his place as second in command to warwick, and penn, who had served throughout the war on the coast of ireland, and had finally been in actual command of the station, was put under arrest. a military officer, colonel rainsborough, was sent to take command of the squadron in the downs and the river. this measure provoked a partial revolt in may . the officers and men of the ships which were to have been under the command of rainsborough refused to obey his orders, and put him on shore. this action was justified by a declaration of principles on the part of "the commanders and officers of the ship =constant reformation= with the rest of the fleet." these politicians stated their view of the best way for providing a settlement for the nation. they were in agreement with the kentish petitioners, and their demands were grouped under four heads. "_first_,--that the king's majesty, with all expedition, be admitted in safety and honour to treat with both houses of parliament. "_secondly_,--that the army now under the command of the lord fairfax be forthwith disbanded, their arrears being paid them. "_thirdly_,--that the known laws of the kingdom may be established and continued, whereby we ought to be governed and judged. "_fourthly_,--that the privileges of parliament and liberty of the subject be preserved." in the following month this declaration was amended by the complaints that the parliament had taken to issuing commissions without the name of the king; that several landsmen had been made sea-commanders, and that "the insufferable pride, ignorance, and insolency of colonel rainsborough, the late vice-admiral, alienated the hearts of the seamen." the political side of these pronouncements need not detain us long. if these were the aims of the seamen, they were trying, as the presbyterian party in parliament also were, to bring things back to the point at which they had been before , with this difference, that the king was to show himself converted to their way of thinking by ten years of failure, defeat, and bitter indignity. like the presbyterians, they forgot to secure the co-operation of the king. the complaint that parliament had taken to issuing commissions without the royal name shows that the sailors, or at least those who spoke for them, were immensely surprised at the result of their own efforts. when they made it a grievance that several landsmen had been made sea-commanders, they were inventing an entirely new grievance. landsmen always had been sea-commanders, and were to be so again in the coming years. it is hard to say how far the discontent of the seamen had anything to do with the revolt, if that can be called a revolt which was, in fact, a refusal to obey revolutionary authority. it was probably mainly the work of a few officers, and the men were carried away by the example of their commanders and by the contagious example of the royalists in the county of kent. the officers did in some cases belong to the presbyterian parliamentary party, which was now becoming royalist under the stimulus of rivalry with the independents. in any case this revolt against the predominant party in parliament extended such a very little way in the fleet, and proved so thoroughly impotent, that we can hardly suppose the bulk of the seamen to have been seriously discontented. the defection of the navy was stopped by the use of a very moderate degree of ingenuity on the part of the dominant faction. they sent the earl of warwick, whose sympathies were known to be with the parliamentary presbyterians, back to take command in place of rainsborough. the city was very presbyterian, and it presented a petition on behalf of batten, to which no attention was paid. warwick was successful in keeping the bulk of the fleet steady, but the insurgent ships helped the kent royalists to obtain possession of the castles of deal, walmer, and sandown. no active measures were taken against them by the lord admiral warwick. he was too busy in new-modelling the fleet. the process of new-modelling consisted in removing all officers and men whose loyalty was doubtful, and in replacing them by others whose principles were trustworthy, or who belonged to that useful class of fighting men who may be trusted to return an equivalent of service for their pay and allowances. the mutiny of the fleet was, in fact, shattered by fairfax, who in the early days of june swept through the county of kent, dashing the royalist forces to pieces, and driving the remnants over the river into essex. as the royalist seamen were deprived of all hope of obtaining fresh stores by the defeat of their friends on shore, and as the ships under warwick remained steady, there was nothing for it but to stand across the north sea to holland and there put themselves under the command of the prince of wales. the prince was at that time in france, whither he had fled from the channel islands. encouraged by the news that the ships were beginning to declare for his party, he hurried to helvoetsluys and there took the command on the th of june. as far as the king was still master to decide who was to command either ships or soldiers, authority over his navy belonged to the young duke of york, who, in theory, was lord high admiral. but the duke was a mere boy of fifteen, and not on good terms with his brother. by the decision of the prince of wales and his council, the command of the squadron was given to lord willoughby of parham. under this new admiral, who, as the authors of the late protestation must have observed with disgust, was a "landsman," the royalist squadron sailed from the dutch harbour on the th of july, and, carrying with it the prince of wales, stood over to yarmouth. it appeared before the town on the nd of july, with the intention of favouring a royalist rising, which might have disturbed fairfax, who was now engaged in the siege of colchester. but though the royalists had a party in the town, the friends of the parliament were strong enough to hold their ground. finding that it was hopeless to endeavour to raise the county of norfolk, and being, moreover, in dire want of money, the royalist squadron sailed for the thames. it found warwick still engaged in new-modelling his fleet, and, although the sailors are said to have been eager to engage, made no attack upon him. warwick reported that his men also were full of zeal and eager to fight, but no conflict took place. the prince of wales summoned the parliamentary admiral to take down the royal standard, which he flew as lord high admiral; and warwick refused to make this submission, on the ground that he held his place by lawful authority, namely, by the will of the king as expressed through the parliament. while these flourishes of summons and retort were passing between the two fleets, the prince's ships were busily engaged in capturing merchant vessels. one of these was estimated to be worth £ , , and the prince demanded a ransom of that amount for her. the city, now longing for a reconciliation with the king, would have been well enough disposed to receive the prince. but parliament was inexorable. the independents had befooled the presbyterians, always easy to deceive, by apparent concessions, and, in the meantime, the victory of fairfax in kent and the success of cromwell against the royalists in wales were re-establishing their supremacy. they declared that the prince and all who were acting with him were guilty of high treason. the prince remained in the river till the first days of september. he was reinforced by batten, who escaped from observation in london, and contrived to carry over the =constant warwick=, one of the best appointed ships in the parliament's service. but here his successes ended. the rest of the fleet continued loyal, or at least consistent in disloyalty, and the stores began to run out. the royalist ships remained, it would seem, on the north side of the thames near leigh, and warwick remained at chatham. while they were here, a number of vessels came round from portsmouth to reinforce the parliamentary squadron. it was made a subject of bitter complaint against batten, whom the prince had knighted, and to whom he gave a large share of his confidence, that he allowed them to pass undisturbed. the royalist who had denounced batten for firing on the queen at bridlington must have found this favour, shown by her son to such "a villain," somewhat hard to digest. under the pressure of want of stores, the prince was disposed to return at once to holland; but his fleet was eager for battle, and so, at least, a pretence of engaging warwick was made. upon the last day of august, when the two fleets were within striking distance, they were separated by a sudden gale. when the wind fell, the prince's fleet was within one barrel of pork of actual starvation; and the game being now clearly up, the most fire-eating of his followers saw that there was nothing for it but to stand over to holland. the royalists, therefore, retreated and anchored at goree on the rd of september. the royalist movement in the fleet had completely failed. it did nothing to avert the disasters of their party at colchester and preston, and only served to diminish the naval forces of the parliament by a little, and for a short time. indeed the immediate result was to make the navy far more anti-royalist than it had been before. the navy joined in that remonstrance of the soldiers, which was the preliminary to the trial of the king. while that great tragedy was in preparation, warwick was pursuing his successes against the royalists. on the th of september he was off helvoetsluys, and had established what was, in fact, a blockade of the prince's ships. correspondence and negotiations passed between the two forces. there would probably have been blows also, if a squadron of dutch ships, under command of tromp, had not dropped anchor between them. each appealed to the other's men, but warwick only was successful in withdrawing support from his opponent. the prince's squadron was indeed shortly in a deplorable condition. he was in utter want of money, and the loyalty of his followers was by no means equal to standing the strain of starvation. his men had tasted the pleasures of mutiny, and were much enamoured of them. they treated lord willoughby of parham, and batten, as they had treated rainsborough. a large party of them refused to serve under prince rupert, on the ground that he was a foreigner, and insisted that they would obey nobody except their own lord high admiral, the duke of york. in fact, all the dissensions at that time existing among the royalists were repeated in the squadron at helvoetsluys. the genuine royalists looked upon the recently converted presbyterians as rebels, only a very little less unpardonable than the independents. the presbyterians were by no means prepared to concede all the demands of the royalists. the perplexities of this section of the prince's followers may be judged from the tone of the rather pitiable apology published by batten. he confessed that he had been quite misled in supporting the parliament, and this avowal of imbecility was not made more respectable by his unconscious betrayal of the discreditable fact that his eyes had not been opened till he had thought himself in danger of losing his pay and allowances. while the leaders were wrangling with one another and were being put ashore by mutinous followers, a large proportion of the prince's sailors became tired of their tardy royalism, when they found that it meant exile from home and choice of service with the dutch, or a life of semi-piratical adventure with prince rupert. several of the revolted ships were brought over by their crews to warwick, and numbers of the sailors of the others followed the example. among the officers not a few made their peace with the triumphant parliament, and among them was batten, who, after joining the royalists because the parliament was not sufficiently loyal, went back to what remained of it after pride's purge, when it was manifestly ready to cut off the king's head. he was not again employed until the restoration, but the new masters of england were not rigorous towards his fellow-insurgents. chapter vi the first years of the commonwealth the authorities for this chapter are the same as for the last. by far the most valuable is the life of penn. this book is in reality a collection of authorities, with no other internal coherence than is supplied by the subject and chronological order, but the compiler has missed little indeed which is of interest. m. de pontalis' _jean de witt_ gives a luminous account of the political and military condition of holland at the time of the outbreak of the war with england. the civil war came to an end, and the interregnum began with the execution of charles, on january , . the resolute men who had now laid their hands on power made their grip felt at once. before the month of february was over, they had completed the work of reorganising the navy. the change was typified by an outward symbol which told its own tale to every sailor's eye. warwick had carried the royal standard at the main, and his ships had worn the man-of-war flag of king charles's reign. this was the union in the old form, which lasted until the end of the eighteenth century; that is to say, the red cross of st. george and the white saltire of scotland. english merchant ships had carried the english ensign, the red cross of st. george on the white ground, while scotch ships used the national white cross of st. andrew on a blue ground. by order of the council of state, now the executive governing body, the english navy was to carry the red cross. the royal standard disappeared, and so did the crown, from the device carved on the stern of the ships. in future they were to carry only two shields--one with the arms of england, and another with those of ireland. the removal of the old symbols was naturally followed by the dismissal of a commander who had of late been little more than a living symbol of the vacillations and political incompetence of his party. on the nd of february, warwick was dismissed from his place of lord high admiral. on the following day three soldiers of the victorious party were appointed as joint commissioners for the command of the fleet, with the title of admirals and generals at sea. these were colonel edward popham, colonel robert blake, and colonel richard deane. popham and blake were somersetshire men of good birth. blake, after serving in subordinate positions in the west, had held taunton for the parliament during the year between the battles of marston moor and naseby, with signal advantage to his party, and great glory to himself. colonel richard deane was of gloucestershire by descent. his youth had been obscure, but he had risen rapidly to high command in the civil war, and was known as one of the most able and trustworthy of the independent officers. he had perhaps been at sea in some humble capacity in his youth. there is nothing to show that the other two had any experience in ships. all three were appointed because their loyalty was certain, and because they had shown themselves resolute fighting men. at the same time, active measures were taken to secure both the devotion and efficiency of the fleet. according to the uniform practice of the long parliament, the administration was kept in the hand of an admiralty committee of members of parliament. under them there was a navy committee, consisting of officials who discharged the duties of the treasurer, surveyor, comptroller, and clerk. both bodies were composed of able and zealous men, by whom the work of administration was excellently done. during the first years of the commonwealth, the navy made great strides both in number and quality. ships were so rapidly built that the effective strength was as good as doubled between and . the work of building was largely done by the petts, who were now so effectually established in the dockyards that it would have been impossible to replace them by an equally competent body of officials. nor, although their grasping spirit made them unpopular, was there any reason for getting rid of them. the pett family served its successive masters with the undeviating loyalty of the vicar of bray. for them the commanding interest of the nation was that they should retain their places. during these earlier years the commonwealth was also comparatively rich. it had not yet to bear the strain of the great dutch war, and it had not exhausted the resources afforded by the confiscated estates of the church, the crown, and the royalists, nor had it yet used up the fines levied on the king's party for the sin of delinquency. therefore it was able not only to build ships rapidly and well, but also to pay the sailor with a regularity to which he had not hitherto been accustomed. the wealth of the government, and the need it had for his services, were, for a time, of immense benefit to the sailor. his pay had been raised from s. to s. a month during the civil war. under the commonwealth it was increased to s. for able seamen, and s. for ordinary seamen. as much as s. a month were given to the men engaged on particular service, such as the pursuit of rupert. measures were also taken to give the men a fairer share of prize-money, and to secure its rapid and honest distribution. government had hitherto looked upon prizes taken from the enemy as a resource. being in chronic want of money, it had treated its men with scant generosity. the evidence both of sir william monson and sir richard hawkins shows that elizabeth's sailors expected little justice at the hands of her officers. the commonwealth was soon beset by the same necessities as the crown, and yielded to the temptation of throwing as many charges as possible on the commissioners for prizes. yet it did try to be handsome in its behaviour towards its servants, who for a time, before and after the establishment of cromwell as protector, profited both in pay and prize-money to a hitherto unknown extent. at no time do they seem to have been so badly used as they had been under charles i., and were again to be under charles ii. pay and prize-money were not all. care was taken to supply better food, and more of it. the observance of lent, which had hitherto enabled the state to economise meat rations, was abolished; though this was probably mainly done by the puritans from a religious motive. better pay, more prize-money, and good feeding had the desired effect of securing the loyalty of the seamen. we may at any rate attribute to them at least as much effect in keeping the sailors steady to the commonwealth as to their high conception of that duty of preventing foreigners from "fooling us," which is sometimes supposed to have supplied their main motive. the work before the navy of the commonwealth at the beginning of was sufficiently abundant and varied. the royalists still held the channel islands, and ireland was unsubdued. besides this, the english settlements in america had not yet been brought to submission to the new government. the puritan colonies were indeed thoroughly in sympathy with the commonwealth, but virginia was royalist, and barbadoes, then our only footing in the west indies, was held for the king. an even more pressing duty than the subjugation of royalist strongholds in the channel and the west indies lay before the commissioners who had succeeded warwick in the command of the fleet. when the parliament's fleet retired from helvoetsluys, carrying with it the revolted ships which had returned to their duty, it left a remnant of seven vessels in the service of the prince of wales. it was natural that he should endeavour to make use of these vessels for the cause. the manner of using them was imposed upon him by circumstances. they could not hope to meet the commonwealth's naval forces in open conflict, but they could prey upon the commerce of the king's disloyal subjects. it might have been wiser not to yield to the temptation of using them in a species of warfare which could hardly help becoming piratical, but the need for money was great, the technical right of the king to fight for his crown on the sea was at least as good as his right to continue the struggle by land, and the prince did what it would have required exceptional wisdom and virtue to restrain him from doing. he appointed prince rupert as his admiral, with the proviso that he was to vacate the place to the duke of york if called upon, and issued commissions authorising him and his captains to make prize of all the king's english enemies, and all such foreigners as should give them help. it was one thing to appoint an admiral and give him a commission, and quite another to fit the ships for sea. the exiled king had no money. he expected his squadron to provide him with funds. the ships must be got to sea somehow. a resource was found by selling the guns of the =antelope=, and with the money thus provided another of the ships at helvoetsluys was armed for sea. a lucky privateering cruise brought in funds, and with them the remainder were armed. rupert left helvoetsluys in january , with a squadron of seven warships and one armed prize. this was the whole naval force which now supported the royal standard of england. it ran down channel and made for kinsale. the blockade of this port had been raised by parliament on the recommendation of colonel edward popham. prince rupert entered it with the ships which had accompanied him from helvoetsluys, and perhaps with some prizes he had picked up on the way. from this harbour he began cruising against english commerce with such success, that whereas the remnant of his majesty's navy had lately been in extreme distress, it was now able to boast itself rich. a further service was rendered to the royalist cause by the relief of the garrison still holding the scilly isles for the king. prince rupert was struck by the advantages this group of islands seemed capable of affording to an enterprising leader engaged in harrying commerce. he thought they might be turned into another venice. another algiers would have been a more accurate expression. his schemes for making the scilly isles a basis of operations against the commerce of england were nipped in the bud by the naval forces of the parliament. one of his ships was captured after a hot fight by two of the commonwealth cruisers, and this misfortune seems to have been received as a sharp warning by its comrades. they returned to kinsale, and, while engaged in getting ready for a summer cruise, were disagreeably surprised by the appearance of a strong blockading force under the command of sir george ayscue. ayscue was soon called away to other service, but his place was taken by two of the new admirals and generals at sea, blake and deane. they held rupert so closely blockaded until october, that not only were his raids against commerce entirely stopped, but great discontent arose among his men, who were reduced to idleness and threatened by want. many deserted, and rupert was compelled to disarm some of the prizes which he had been fitting for sea. after the first successes of cromwell had made it clear that the king's cause was ruined in ireland, the position of rupert at kinsale became one of extreme danger. if the blockade had continued until the puritan army was upon the town, it is eminently probable that, unless rupert had been slain in action, he would have followed hamilton and culpepper to the block. a heavy gale released him from this peril. it drove the forces of the parliament off the coast, and gave rupert an opportunity of escaping of which he did not fail to avail himself. with his original seven ships, but without his prizes, he sailed for portugal. the overwhelming naval strength of the parliament in the channel had rendered his original scheme of holding the scilly isles impracticable. on his way south he fell in with and captured some english merchant ships near the berlings. rejoiced by this booty, which he calculated would be worth forty thousand pounds to the king's service, he entered the tagus. at kinsale he had heard of the execution of king charles, and had received a confirmation of his commission from the new king. he appealed to the portuguese government for a friendly reception. the king of portugal owed his own throne to a successful revolt, but he was quite as much shocked by the iniquity of the english rebels as any of the longer established monarchs of the continent. as the commonwealth was not yet fully established, the portuguese acted as if they thought it safe to treat it with indifference. rupert was openly received by the king, and was allowed to make profit of his prizes. complaints of his depredations, and outcries from the merchants trading to the straits, whose ships were endangered by his cruisers, assailed the council of state. in december it began to take measures to send a squadron in pursuit. blake and popham were ordered to consult on the measures to be taken. almost immediately afterwards it was decided that blake should sail alone for lisbon, while popham remained in the channel. deane had been called off for service with the army in scotland. the squadron appointed to go with blake was first fixed at five vessels--the =tiger=, the =john=, the =tenth whelp=, the =signet=, and the =constant warwick=. before blake was ready to sail, his force was increased to twelve vessels. there was, however, an interval of nearly three months between the decision to send him to the southward and the sailing of his squadron. in spite of the efforts of the new admiralty committee, the navy was not yet in a condition to provide large squadrons at very short notice. the calls upon its resources were many. in april of thirty-nine vessels were required in the downs, or on the coasts of ireland and scotland, in addition to the twenty which were then cruising to the southward under the command of popham and blake. the establishment which the council of state thought necessary was sixty-five vessels in all. blake spent the two first months of at plymouth, getting his squadron ready for sea. early in march he made his appearance off the mouth of the tagus, with a fleet strong enough to be too much, not only for rupert, but for the feeble kingdom of portugal. he had explicit instructions, which were confirmed and extended when popham joined in april, to treat rupert as a pirate, that is to say, as an enemy of the human race, who was not entitled to receive asylum. his orders were to point this out to all princes in whose ports he might meet the royalist admiral. if they refused to take the same view, then blake was authorised to attack prince rupert, even in the harbour of a state not at war with england--to act, in fact, on the principle that whoever treated rupert as a friend was an enemy of england. when blake found rupert at anchor in the tagus, he made a demand for his surrender. a diplomatic agent was landed to represent the case of the british parliament to the king of portugal. king john was in a cruel position. he could not surrender rupert without a certain amount of disgrace. indeed he was so feeble that the royalist adventurers would have been formidable enemies. rupert had no scruple as to treating his host with scant politeness, and there was a party at the portuguese court in favour of helping the royalists. on the other hand, the king had fair warning that if he did not treat rupert as a pirate, the parliament would ruin his commerce. while the king was vacillating, the two fleets remained at anchor not far from one another, and their sailors had frequent conflicts. an unsuccessful attempt was made by the royalists to blow up blake's flagship by a torpedo. when blake found that the portuguese government was not yet ready to help him against the royalists, he proceeded to prove to it the danger of the course it preferred. his station at the mouth of the tagus enabled him to lay hands easily on all ships coming in or going out. when the outward-bound brazil fleet put to sea, it was found to include several english vessels freighted by the portuguese. these blake pressed for the service of the commonwealth, and sequestered their cargoes. the blow was a sharp one, and was not made more palatable by an intimation that it was only a warning, and that worse would follow if the portuguese persisted in their ill-advised courses. the king was not unnaturally very angry, and appealed to rupert to help him in driving off blake's squadron. nothing could have been more to the taste of the royalist admiral, and if there had been any effective portuguese fleet to help, he would have helped it. but there was not, and therefore when rupert put to sea no battle took place. rupert hoisted the royal standard and made a bold show. but in reality he could not venture to do more than skirmish with the overwhelming force opposed to him. blake had been joined by popham, and their combined force was not less than twenty vessels. the three capital ships and four small frigates of rupert's own following were no match for such an antagonist. therefore, although rupert came near enough to have his topmast shot away, he could not venture to do much more than skirmish at a moderate distance from the forts, when the wind blew from a direction which gave him security that he could get safely back again. shortly after this ineffectual effort to drive off the blockading squadron, the home-coming brazil fleet appeared, and, being quite ignorant of the state of affairs, sailed into the hands of blake and popham. this was a second and a worse blow to the portuguese. once more king john was stirred up to make an effort. again he appealed to rupert, and again nothing came of it. the royalist promised help, but blake and popham left him no opportunity of keeping his word. their ships by this time must have been very foul. they had good reason to be satisfied with the punishment they had inflicted on the king of portugal, and they sailed with their prizes for the spanish port of san lucar de barrameda. by this time the portuguese government had been taught that it was not wisdom to fight with the keepers of the liberties of england. it took advantage of the absence of blake and popham to get rid of rupert, not by driving him out, a feat beyond its resources, but by bribing him to be gone. his ships were refitted, his prizes were taken off his hands, and he was bowed out. rupert himself was not loth to be at sea again, where there were prizes to be taken. he ran through the straits of gibraltar and entered the mediterranean, with the intention of preying on english commerce. this third stage of his career began in september . it was a step downwards. by this time the ruin of the royalist cause had been put beyond doubt. the governments of the continent were beginning to grasp the fact that it would be wiser for them to make friends with the new power. a naval force, which no longer represented a government in possession of even a part of its territory, was on the high road to fall into sheer piracy. it could live only by plunder, and was compelled to treat all who refused to allow it to sell its booty as enemies. in the mediterranean, rupert made haste to prove to all the world that he was not the man to stand upon trifles, or to consider those who were not strong enough to inspire him with respect. the extreme feebleness of the spanish government was a temptation to a man of his temperament. he took a bold and simple line with the spanish authority in the southern ports. all english ships, he said, which obey the present revolutionary government are the property of the rebels. no civilised state can be allowed to harbour such people. therefore, when i find english ships in your harbours, i shall attack them, and, if you interfere with me, shall fire on you. this declaration of policy was the answer of the exiled king's lord high admiral to the parliament's declaration that he himself was a pirate. it was very natural, and as a matter of theory was perhaps equally accurate, but then it was not supported by the same effective force. when, therefore, rupert insisted upon acting on the principle that his opponents were rebels, who were not entitled to enjoy asylum in the ports of foreign princes, he laid himself open to severe retaliation. as a matter of fact, he did just enough to inspire the spaniards with a strong desire to see blake's squadron make an end of him. at malaga, at velez malaga, and again at motril, he attacked english merchant ships, and made prize of all of them which did not run on shore, without paying the slightest respect to the neutrality of spanish waters. had there been any spanish navy in existence, his career would have been short. but the spaniards were too weak to defend themselves from insult. they were compelled to rely on the assistance of blake, who was refitting his squadron at san lucar, after the fatigues of the blockade at lisbon. blake had not been able to prevent rupert from running through the straits, probably because his ships were all equally foul, and equally in need of scraping, and he was therefore unable to station vessels at sea to intercept the royalists. so soon as he could get ready, he followed rupert up the mediterranean, and about the th of november came on the bulk of the royalist cruisers at carthagena. rupert himself was absent. his ships had been scattered in a gale on the th of november, and he, with one other vessel, was cruising in the neighbourhood of formentera, where he took a richly-laden merchant ship called the =marmaduke=, after some fighting. with his prize, rupert returned to the mainland of spain, and, not finding his consorts, left a message informing them that he had sailed for toulon. it was not till he reached the french port that he heard of the disaster which had overtaken the rest of his squadron. blake had attacked at once. the royalists complained that the spaniards had suffered the law of nations to be outraged in their harbours. they had very little choice, but, from their point of view, the action of blake cannot have appeared much worse than rupert's. the royalists made no resistance, many of the men were pressed out of the english prizes, and, even of those who were not, many were getting tired of an adventure which brought them little but danger and exile. rupert had been driven on to the coast of sicily by bad weather, before he could make the coast of france. there he was well received, and allowed to sell his prizes--an act of compliance on the part of the french officers for which the commerce of france was severely punished. blake, acting on his instructions, immediately retaliated by capturing french merchant vessels, and when he left the mediterranean, as he did shortly afterwards, the same course was vigorously pursued by his successor, william penn. penn's cruise in the mediterranean lasted till april of ' , and was fruitful in french prizes. he had been called from the coast of ireland to command a squadron of eight frigates, designed to replace the heavier ships of blake's command. the parliament was now using the naval forces of england with a vigour of which there had been no previous example. the necessity of proving to the country that it was capable of protecting commerce against the utmost rupert could do, acted as a stimulus, even if there had not been a strong wish to make the monarchies of the continent understand that the new government was far too powerful to be treated with neglect. the measures taken were not inadequate to the work on hand. in the november of william penn sailed with a squadron of eight frigates, and with orders first to make a cruise against the portuguese on their own coast, and in the western islands, with the object of capturing their merchant ships on the way home from brazil, and then to enter the mediterranean, where he was to relieve blake in the work of hunting down rupert. the council of state was so resolute not to delay the work, that it did not wait until the whole squadron was ready. penn sailed on the th of november, with five of his frigates, for the azores. the other three joined him there under the command of john lawson. the whole force contained an exceptional proportion of men who gained distinction in the sea service: it consisted of the-- ships. men. guns. captains. =fairfax= william penn, vice-admiral. =centurion= john lawson. =adventure= andrew ball. =foresight= samuel howett. =pelican= joseph jordan. =assurance= benjamin blake. =nonsuch= john mildmay. =star= robert sanders. this squadron was in the azores by the th of january , and, after cruising with fair success between them and the rock of lisbon, entered the mediterranean in march. in addition to penn's squadron, another was fitted out under command of captain edward hall, for the purpose of convoying the trade to the mediterranean. hall's squadron consisted of-- ships. men. guns. captains. =triumph= edward hall, vice-admiral. =tiger= james peacock. =angel= william rand. =ant. bonadventure= walter hopton. =trade's increase= william jacob. =lion= jac. birkdel. =hopeful luke= william goodson. there was thus a double protection. while hall applied himself to the convoying of merchant ships, penn was free to pursue rupert. the royalists gave no trouble, and the two squadrons of the parliament had little to do beyond making reprisals on the nations which had incurred the hostility of england by showing favour to rupert, and by endeavouring to put some check on the excesses of the algerines. yet the presence of two forces acting in the mediterranean at once, so soon after the appearance of blake, must have given the southern nations a greatly enhanced opinion of the naval power of england. the officers in command were well aware that they were doing much more than merely chasing away a handful of royalist cruisers. their sense of the higher importance of their work is very well expressed in a letter written by captain hall from cadiz, on the eve of entering the mediterranean. "your fleets meeting here, so soon after the departure of the other fleet, is of no less admiration to other foreign kingdoms (into which reports fly of them daily) than to spain; who much admire your quickness, in such strength and full supplies. so as i believe, in a short time, the spaniards, between fear and love, will grow respectful to us. though, hitherto, we have had little sign of it, more than compliments (only free access to the shore, where we are in nowise molested in our business), which we fail not to equalise them in." although rupert vanished from the sight of blake and his successors in the mediterranean, and indeed did not again come in contact with the naval forces of the parliament, we cannot ignore the actions of a gentleman who was lord high admiral, and who flew the royal standard by commission of the rightful king. after the defeat at carthagena he was now reduced to three vessels, and a large part of his crews was discontented. only the high courage of the man, and the determination of the exiled royalists who had accompanied him, sufficed to prevent wholesale desertion, or open resistance to his authority. partly by good management, but more by force, rupert kept his command together. with the proceeds of his prizes he purchased a fourth vessel, and started on certainly the most extraordinary cruise ever undertaken by a lord high admiral of england. it lasted for two years, and at the end there remained only one of the four ships with which it began. he had entered the mediterranean with "poverty and despair as his companions, and revenge as his guide." these comrades attended him, and he kept this aim in view to the end. from toulon he sailed to the coast of africa, and there began avenging the wrongs of his master and uncle, charles i., by capturing a genoese carrack, partly on the pretext that the republic had given him offence, and partly through the "clamour of the seamen," who, having entered on a voyage which had much the look of piracy, were minded to enjoy the privileges of the position. then he took a spanish galleon, making use of the parliament flag as a device to throw her off her guard. having now done his very best to arouse the whole naval forces of the mediterranean against him, rupert wisely roamed out into the atlantic. he had a scheme for making a cruise on the coast of africa, and thence over to barbadoes, which was known to be still held for the king by lord willoughby of parham. it may be that this scheme was not very definite, and that he in reality drifted about very much at the mercy of accident, and the pressure exercised on him by the hope of booty, or the constant mutinous conduct of his men. he first went to madeira, where he was civilly received by the portuguese authorities, who were subject to hostilities both from spain and the parliament, and could therefore not put themselves in a worse position by favouring rupert. from madeira he went to the canaries, and then to the cape de verd islands, and then back to the azores, always capturing what english and spanish ships came in his way. on the coast of africa he was actively helped by the portuguese, and even by the dutch, who were now themselves on the eve of war with england, and were not sorry to see the lord high admiral engaged in destroying the trade and settlements of the king's disloyal subjects. the hollanders did not foresee that within a few years the knowledge gained in these cruises would be turned against themselves. among the officers who followed rupert was the captain robert holmes who became an admiral after the restoration and led a squadron to the coast of africa for the purpose of sweeping out the dutch. in the september of rupert's strength was sorely diminished. his flagship went down in a gale with three hundred and thirty men, although every effort was made to stop the leak, even to the thrusting of a hundred and twenty pieces of raw beef into it, and stancheoning them down. rupert was saved by the devotion of his followers. shortly afterwards another of his little squadron ran aground in the azores and became a total wreck. he endeavoured to replace these losses by arming his prizes, but his resources diminished too fast. his men continued to desert, and he had no means of replacing them. after his disasters in the islands, he returned to the coast of africa in may ' , and applied himself alternately to plundering the english at sea, and the moors on shore in the neighbourhood of cape blanco. by this time his vessels had become strained, so that well-found merchant ships had less difficulty in escaping them. the portuguese, too, had made peace with england. his refuges were being shut to him, and he could not sell his prizes. after failing to capture an english vessel, "very snug, with taut masts," which they took for a man-of-war (the fighting ship was already known by her greater smartness), rupert deserted africa and the atlantic islands and betook himself to the antilles. he had come too late to assist in the defence of barbadoes against the parliament, but the dutch war had now begun. rupert had not the smallest scruple in assisting the enemies of england against the enemies of the king. he was busy near nevis and other parts of the windward islands. in the course of his cruising he gave his name to prince rupert's bay on the western side of the island of dominica, very close to the scene of one of the most famous of english naval victories. at last, among the virgin islands, he was overtaken by the most destructive of the many storms he had experienced. his brother maurice went down with all hands, and rupert himself, being now worn out and overmatched, returned home with his only remaining ship. he reached nantes early in in safety. his one surviving vessel was burned by accident, so that nothing was left of the force with which he had originally sailed, except a few of the adventurers. while the small remnant of the king's naval forces was pursuing a course of adventures which hovered between piracy and privateering, the council of state was making vigorous use of its navy for the purpose of stamping out what resistance to its authority still lingered on in outlying territories. in it armed, in addition to the home guards and the squadrons of penn and hall, a further squadron under the command of sir george ayscue. his mission was to reduce the royal garrison at barbadoes, and to receive the submission of the plantations of north america. barbadoes had passed into our hands by occupation as far back as the reign of elizabeth. it had never been held by the spaniards, who probably neglected it because it lay well out in the atlantic to the eastward of the antilles. although of little direct value to them, its position made it desirable to a power which wished to be able to attack the spanish indies. being to windward, it supplied an excellent starting-point for a squadron intending to assail the antilles. it has a good harbour and fertile soil. the early history of our settlement in barbadoes is peaceful and obscure. the settlers appear to have included an exceptional number of capitalists, and few among them belonged to that class of emigrants who left england for religious reasons during the reign of charles i. by the middle of the century it is said to have contained fifty thousand inhabitants, over and above the black slaves and the remnant of the native indian population. in the desperate state to which the king's fortunes were reduced, his desire to retain so valuable a fragment of his dominions was very natural. he could do little to defend it in the way of supplying men or money. it was, however, in his power to appoint a resolute governor; and this he did. the lord willoughby of parham, who had been named vice-admiral by charles at helvoetsluys in , had been displaced by the mutiny of his men when the squadron returned from its unsuccessful cruise into the thames, was sent as governor to barbadoes, and was well received by the planters. so long as they were not called upon to fight or suffer for the royal cause, these persons were perfectly prepared to recognise the king's authority. they had a militia apparently well armed, and forts in the principal settlement at carlisle bay, but the reality of strength was not in proportion to the show. in spite of the ease with which willoughby established his authority, the barbadians were not undivided. there was a parliamentary party among them. some of the leaders of this section of the inhabitants thought it more prudent to desert the island on the arrival of lord willoughby. they had taken refuge in england, and had promised the parliament support if it could send out a force for the conquest of the island. several of them accompanied ayscue. sir george did not proceed at once to the west indies, but began his campaign by a cruise on the coasts of spain and portugal. it was hoped that before crossing the atlantic he might do something towards the final suppression of prince rupert. but rupert had by this time given up even the appearance of struggling with the parliament's navy, and had gone farther to the south. after searching in vain for an enemy who eluded him, ayscue went on to discharge the second part of his mission. it is possible that he did not wish to reach the west indies during the hurricane months of july, august, and september. in october that danger is considered to be over. on the th of october he appeared off carlisle bay, on the western side of barbadoes. there were several dutch and some english ships at anchor, and these ayscue seized, on the ground that they were trading with the enemies of the parliament. then he summoned lord willoughby to surrender. the royalist governor made a stout answer, and the planters appeared for a time to be ready to support him. but in truth, as the result showed, they were not prepared to risk much for the cause. ayscue established a blockade of the island, and put an entire stop to its trade. this threatened the planters with ruin, and a large party among them were soon converted to a conviction of the necessity of bringing lord willoughby to reason. a very active leader of this section of the inhabitants was a certain thomas modyford, colonel of one of the regiments of colonial militia, a man who had a very strange and varied career to run in the west indies before he died. he had fought for the king in england, and was a new-comer in barbadoes, where he had landed only in , but he had brought with him the means of buying a plantation, and now he was not inclined to risk his possessions in the apparently desperate cause of his master's son. he therefore made his peace with ayscue, and gave the parliamentary leader assurances of support. ayscue had but few soldiers with him, and would probably not have risked the landing unless he had been sure of help. in december, two months after his arrival, he received what he had the art to represent as a reinforcement. the west indian islands were commonly supplied with food for themselves and their slaves from virginia. the ships bringing these stores arrived in the month of december. trading fleets at that time, when the new world swarmed with pirates, preferred to sail together, for the sake of mutual protection. when they reached him, ayscue made believe that he had received a reinforcement of men, and at once landed at carlisle bay. the resistance was so trifling that it is hard to believe the defenders to have been in earnest. ayscue obtained possession of the forts without the least difficulty. the occupation of the rest of the island would have been beyond his power if the planters had been unanimous in the support of lord willoughby. colonel modyford had done his work too well, and there were no doubt many other planters as little disposed as himself to lose all for loyalty's sake. they must have known very well that even if they beat off ayscue, they would only bring a more formidable armament on themselves a little later, while their trade would be ruined in the interval. they soon made lord willoughby understand that he must not expect too much from their devotion, and the king's governor surrendered on terms which ayscue had the generosity, or the good sense, to make liberal. from barbadoes the fleet sailed to virginia. there had been some fear that prince rupert might reach the old dominion, and give trouble; but the prince, as we have seen, was otherwise employed. virginia, though partly royalist in sympathies, had already submitted. the plantations farther to the north were thoroughly puritan; and when ayscue returned to england, he was able to report that the authority of the parliament was peacefully acknowledged throughout the whole extent of the american colonies. whilst sir george ayscue was bringing the colonial settlements to obedience of the parliament, the work of utterly extirpating the king's authority had been completed at home. blake had returned from the mediterranean in february, leaving penn to take his place. he was well received by the council of state, and rewarded not only by thanks, but by a grant of money. the government had immediate need of his services again. though completely beaten in england, the royalists were still struggling in scotland, and they held possession both of the scilly and the channel isles. from these posts they carried on harassing privateering war against commerce. it was not only the damage they did to trade which made these garrisons highly inconvenient to the government. they had not been very careful to distinguish between english and foreign property in their captures, and had at least done enough to justify the dutch in threatening to take the law into their own hands. the fear that tromp, who commanded the naval forces of the states in the channel, would seize at least upon scilly was avowed, and was possibly not wholly unfounded. the most effectual way to put a stop to any enterprise of the kind was manifestly to eject the royalist garrisons from these posts. in april blake convoyed a military force sent to take possession of the scilly isles. the service was rapidly and effectively performed, with the help of ayscue, who was starting on his voyage to america, and of colonel clarke, a military officer despatched by desborow. sir john grenville, the royalist governor, held out until the th of may, and then brought a resistance, doomed to be unavailing, to an end by surrender. the operations against the channel isles were suspended for a short time by the march of the scots army under charles ii. into england. but after the "crowning mercy" of worcester in september they were resumed. on this occasion blake had the sole naval command, and his military colleague was colonel hayne. sir george carteret was helped to prolong his defence by the bad weather, which made it impossible to land the troops for days. but the end was inevitable. with an overwhelming naval force at their command, and the now completely victorious new model army to draw on for reinforcements, it was at best a mere question of time when the parliament would obtain possession of the islands. so soon as he had done enough for honour, sir george carteret saved his estate from confiscation by surrendering his forts. in these operations the share of the navy had in a sense been subordinate. it had comparatively little to do with the fighting, and its work had been almost wholly confined to carrying the troops over and landing them. but in another sense these last royalist garrisons were in reality taken by the navy. if it had not acquired such a commanding superiority of strength at sea as destroyed every royalist hope of help, grenville and carteret might have held out for long. in this, as in the earlier stages of the war with the king, it was the possession of the navy by his enemies which proved ruinous to him. the revolutionary party had now done its work effectually in the domestic field of battle. its enemies, as far as the navy was concerned, were in future to be foreigners. there was no doubt, even before the end of , who the main enemy would be. at that time there was but one possible opponent at sea for england, the united states of the netherlands. war had been preparing between them for some time, and very little was wanted to bring it on. the passing of the navigation act in was of itself an almost sufficient cause for hostilities. the policy which this law was designed to enforce was not in itself new. as far back as the reign of henry vii., laws had been passed to support english shipping against foreign competition, but they had either been ill enforced, or ill calculated to secure their purpose. the navigation act of was directed against the carrying trade of holland, with avowedly hostile intentions. it was drafted for the express purpose of ruining the dutch shipping as far as we were concerned, by forbidding the importation of goods into england, except in ships belonging to the nation which produced them, or in english vessels. this of itself might not have led to open conflict between the two countries, but there were other causes of hostility. the rivalry of the english and dutch at sea had not always been peaceful. in the early days of the century the east india companies of the two countries had combined to assert their right of trading with the east in defiance of the portuguese. when their feeble opponent had been overcome, a task very easily effected, they had fallen out with one another. the chief scene of their conflict had been in the islands of the indian ocean, and the victory had remained with the dutch, who made these the seat of their eastern empire. the most notorious incident of the expulsion of the english from the region which the dutch desired to reserve to themselves, was the massacre of amboyna, an island near the moluccas, in . by the terms of a treaty made in between england and the united provinces, it had been agreed that the two nations were to live in peace in these regions, and that their respective factories were to share the trade. according to the english account, which is certainly supported by probability, the dutch vamped up an accusation of treason against the english factors (_i.e._ commercial agents) at amboyna. under the pretence that they had entered into a plot with the japanese to massacre their dutch allies, they were suddenly attacked, thrown into prison, and tortured with abominable cruelty. then, taking advantage of this supposed discovery of a plot, the dutch made it a pretext to expel the english factories from the whole of the spice islands. during thirty years the memory of the massacre of amboyna had remained fresh with the english. the governments of james i. and charles i. had made several attempts to obtain satisfaction by diplomatic means, but the states had either been unwilling or unable to compel the powerful east india company to replace the english factories. there were other causes of dispute between the governments, such as the not unnatural favour shown by the prince of orange to the cause of his father-in-law, king charles. the prince had indeed recently died in the midst of a constitutional conflict with the republican party. his opponents were now masters in holland, but even this served rather to promote discord. the commonwealth took up with a fantastic scheme for a union between the two republics, and when it was coldly received, as might have been expected, was, not very wisely, angry. the murder of an english envoy at the hague by royalist refugees served to exasperate existing ill-feeling. perhaps not the weakest motive with the council of state was its knowledge that war with holland would be popular. revolutionary governments have at all times the strongest possible motive for directing the energies of a nation into foreign war. under the influence of these different motives, england undoubtedly forced a war upon the dutch republic. trade rivalry, the memory of old wrongs, the hope of displacing the dutch from their commercial supremacy, and the natural instinct of all governments to do what will tend to their own preservation, combined to make conflict inevitable. the importance of the first dutch war as an epoch in the history of the english navy can hardly be exaggerated. though short, for it lasted barely twenty-two months, it was singularly fierce and full of battles. yet its interest is not derived mainly from the mere amount of the fighting, but from the character of it. this was the first of our naval wars conducted by steady, continuous, coherent campaigns. hitherto our operations on the sea had been of the nature of adventures by single ships and small squadrons, with here and there a great expedition sent out to capture some particular port or island. when we now look back on the long and glorious story of england on the sea during the last three centuries, the grandeur of the later period is liable to mislead us in our estimate of the earlier. in england was far from enjoying that reputation for superiority in naval warfare she earned in later generations. in fact, the majority of operations undertaken by her fleets had been failures. the defeat of the armada had always, and not unjustly (whatever our national vanity may say to the contrary), been accounted for by causes other than the strength of elizabeth's navy. since then, the cadiz expedition of , in which we had the co-operation of a dutch squadron, had been our only signal triumph. the voyage to portugal in , the last voyage of drake and hawkins to the west indies in , the expedition against algiers in , the expedition to cadiz in , the attack on the ile de rhé in , had all been either barren or disastrous. the valour and the seamanship of the english was not disputed, but there was nothing to lead the dutch to believe that they would prove a specially formidable enemy on the sea. if the states hung back from war, it was not so much because they had reason to doubt the capacity of their fleets to contend on equal terms with ours, but because they were a commercial power having much to lose and little to gain by hostilities, because their long war with spain had burdened them with a heavy national debt, and because the obligation to defend a vulnerable land frontier made it impossible for them to dispense with the burden of a large standing army. this war caused a great change in the estimate of our power at sea. it proved that we could show ourselves superior to what was beyond all question the greatest naval power on the continent, and thereby raised the position of england in the world. the novelty of the war no less than its importance makes it convenient to take a survey not only of the material condition of our fleet, but of its moral and intellectual capacity for warfare at sea, before beginning an account of the operations. there is nothing to be added to what has been said at the beginning of this chapter as to the organisation of the navy of the commonwealth. experience led to some changes during the progress of the war, but at the beginning the fleet was governed and organised as it had been during the civil war. it has already been pointed out that between and the number of ships fit for service had been substantially doubled, and the quality of the recent additions to the list was excellent. with the help of hired or pressed merchant ships, the council of state was able to meet the dutch with equal forces. the size of the squadrons maintained during the civil wars, with the nature of their recent service in the mediterranean and america, had given the fleet practice, and the state the command of a body of proved officers. there is more doubt as to how far the navy was prepared for a great war by the possession of a definite system or order of battle. according to the prevailing opinion, an english fleet was a collection of ships which fought pell-mell, each as it best could, and as the spirit of its captain caused it to be handled. this is a view which i find myself unable to accept. it has, in my opinion, both probability and direct evidence against it. in the first place, it is difficult to conceive that any force consisting of ships ranging in number from forty to nearly a hundred can possibly have been moved about, directed against an enemy, and led to victory, unless it had had some understood formation which the commander could use, and the individual captains were familiar with. a fighting force which goes in no kind of order is a thing one finds it hard to imagine--provided, of course, that it is also supposed to be efficient. the most barbarous tribes of warriors have some method of marshalling a host. the most rudimentary common-sense will teach the most backward of mankind that they cannot fight at all unless they move together on the enemy, help one another, and put each individual of their body in such a position that he can use his weapons. the same experience must have taught the seamen of the middle of the seventeenth century the same lesson. unless they had been incredibly stupid, they could not possibly think of rushing into battle with an enemy so formidable as the dutch, without some more or less definite idea how they were to bring their whole power to bear upon him. it is true that they did not write essays on tactics, but this only proves that the time was not given to writing about the operations of war at sea, while the want of minutely precise fighting orders may, in the light of the later history of our navy, be considered as rather a proof of sagacity than of the want of knowledge. we are not, however, left to draw our deductions as to the existence of a recognised formation of battle in the english navy from probability only. there is direct evidence that the natural order of a fleet which fights with its broadside, the famous line of battle, was familiar to the generation of blake. fourteen years after this war, penn, in speaking to pepys, declared that the dutch always fight in a line, "and we, whenever we beat them." as this was said at the beginning of the second dutch war, it is impossible to believe that penn was not thinking of the previous struggle. then we had been repeatedly successful against the dutch, and it seems to follow that it had been for the reason given by the veteran admiral, among others. his words in conversation to pepys are not penn's only contribution to the evidence of the existence of a line of battle. in a letter describing his share in the battle off the kentish knock, he says: "we ran a fair berth against the head of our general to give room for my squadron to be between him and us." it is to be presumed that when the ships forming that squadron filled the place left vacant for them, they were understood to do so in such a way as to be able to use their broadsides. this implies that none of them were to be so placed as to get between a comrade and the dutch; in other words, they were to be in "line ahead," _i.e._ one behind the other, the only position in which a number of vessels carrying their guns on their sides could all fire without running the risk of hurting one another. we hear, too, of fleets tacking together, which presupposes that they were so placed as to allow them freedom of movement, and that there was some system by which a general order could be conveyed. but there are two pieces of still stronger evidence which i cannot but think must be held to settle the question. the first is to be found in a letter from captain joseph cubitt of the =tulip=, and gives an account of the last battle of the war. "the st, the weather being fair, and both standing to sea, we tacked upon them, and went through their whole fleet, leaving part on one side, and part on the other of us; and in passing through, we lamed several and sunk more. as soon as we had passed, we tacked upon them again, and they on us, and as we passed each other very near, we did very good execution on them, and some of their ships that had lost all their masts struck their colours, and put out a white handkerchief on a staff, and hauled in all their guns. my men were very desirous to go to them, there being two of them very close, but the fight being but then begun, i would not suffer it; they were fired by others after the fight was over. "as soon as we had passed each other, both tacked, the hollander having still the wind, and we keeping close by, we passed very near and did very great execution upon each other. in this bout we cut off some of his fleet, which could not weather us, and therefore forsook him, and some of them were sunk, and we had the =oak= fired by one of their branders. we again tacked upon them and they upon us, and in this bout we fought most desperately, almost at push of pike. a flushinger was sunk close by the =victory=. he intending to board the =victory=, had entered three or four of his men with their pole-axes, but the =victory's= carpenter's axe cut them down on the side of the ship." the movements described by captain cubitt are not conceivable unless we suppose that the english fleet was in line ahead. when he says, "we went through their whole fleet, leaving part on one side and part on the other of us," and again when he says, "we cut off some of his fleet which could not weather us," he describes the movement which was deliberately executed by rodney on the th april , and was unwittingly performed by all the ships of his fleet, counting from commodore affleck's to the rear at another breach in the french line. it could not have been executed except by ships in a line ahead, and we have therefore sufficient reason to believe that this formation was adopted by our fleets in the first dutch war. the second piece of evidence is to be found in the "instructions for the better ordering of the fleet in fighting," issued by blake, monk, disbrowe, and penn, in march . here it is distinctly ordered that, when the fleet prepares to engage, the vice and rear admirals are to place themselves respectively to right and left of the commander-in-chief, "giving a competent distance for the admiral's squadron"; that, when in action, every ship is to keep in a line with the chief of its own squadron, or, if he falls out crippled, then with the commander-in-chief; that, if one vessel falls out injured, the others are to "keep in a line" between her and the enemy; while signals are provided by which an admiral can order his van or rear, which are leeward or windward of him, to come into his "wake or graine," that is, into a line behind or ahead of him. it may be allowed that the order of line ahead was not very accurately preserved. it is as near impossible as may be to keep sixty to ninety ships of very different sizes and sailing powers manoeuvring for any length of time without allowing them to fall into disorder. but the weakness of the execution does not prove the want of a system. we may therefore consider it as established that, however ill the plan may have been executed, our ancestors in the first dutch war did endeavour to fight in that formation which experience has shown to be the most effective for a fleet of ships depending on their broadsides for their power of injuring the enemy. that the admiralty of the time did no more than prescribe a method of engaging in general terms, and then order their captains to do their best, is to their honour. this is what nelson did at trafalgar, at a time when nobody supposes that the line was unknown to our seamen. what the reticence of the admiralty of the commonwealth proves is, that the formation had not been degraded to the superstition which it became in the last quarter of the century. the reason which made the line ahead the most effective formation for warships is implied in what has already been said. their power lay in their broadsides, which could only be used when the vessels were in that order. the ancient galleys relied on their beak, and the later galleys carried a single great gun in the bows, and would therefore naturally be placed with their prow towards the enemy, since it was this that they relied on as their means of offence. when several of them were acting together, they would be placed side by side, as a matter of course, as this arrangement put them all where they would have an opportunity of striking the enemy, and of helping one another. this formation is called the line abreast, and for ships armed on the broadside is manifestly useless. it might be, and was, used when they were moving together to attack the enemy, but, from the moment that they came within striking distance, their natural course was to turn their side to him. in doing so, they would take care to turn in the same direction, since, if they did not, the fleet would be immediately split up into a number of discordant parts going in different directions, and in imminent danger of running into one another. but this movement of turning in one direction from the line abreast would inevitably bring them into a more or less accurately formed line ahead. there remains the alternative that the fleet attacking in line abreast--a course it could only follow from windward--might endeavour to steer through the enemy and engage him on the lee side. this was actually attempted by lord howe on the st of june , and it has the obvious advantage of putting the attacking force on the enemy's line of retreat, which, in the case of sailing ships, is unavoidably to leeward. but this method of attack could only be employed against an enemy who remained passive, which it does not appear that the dutch ever did in this war. with two fleets both moving, it could hardly happen that they could engage except when sailing on the wind, that is, with the wind on one side and not behind them. in that position an admiral had a much greater control over the movements of his squadron. thus the formation which gradually came to be accepted as normal was the close-hauled line of battle. in order that each vessel, while retaining the power of striking at the enemy, was also to have the necessary freedom of movement, a space had to be left between them in which they could turn when occasion arose, and which would give to each the time to avoid the ship immediately ahead of her, if it, by any chance, became disabled. as it was desirable to employ the greatest number of men in fighting, and as few as might be aloft, while it was obviously convenient to diminish to the utmost the surface presented to an enemy's fire, it was a practice imposed by the conditions of sea battles to go into action with a diminished spread of sail. it was further necessary that every vessel should have the power of increasing her rate of speed. if one vessel was crippled, the next behind her had to push up and take her place, which could only be done where there were some immediate means of increasing the rate of speed. this margin was secured by employing a detachment of men to spill the wind out of one of the sails, so that it did not produce its whole effect in dragging the ship on. spilling the wind meant the keeping one corner of the sail loose, so that it flapped and did not hold the wind. when the speed of the ship had to be increased, the sail was sheeted home, or, in the old phrase, they "let everything draw." it follows, from what has been said, that a fleet was always compelled to regulate its speed by that of the slowest vessel in the line. the great majority of battles fought by ships under sail were conducted very slowly. it was seldom that the line moved at more than two and a half or three miles an hour. in saying that the seamen of the middle seventeenth century knew the advantage of forming a line and attacking in that order, i do not mean to assert that they had carried the art of handling a fleet in battle to the perfection it attained in later times, but only that they were not in the habit of endeavouring to fight in a mere swarm. their ignorance of the refinements of the conduct of a fleet was perhaps in their favour. it is the defect of every formation for war, whether by land or sea, that it is capable of becoming, in the belief of dull and pedantic men, an end in itself. this did happen with the close-hauled line of battle, within about forty years of the first dutch war. every order is valuable only in so far as it enables a fighting force to bring its whole strength to bear. when it has done that, it has served its purpose. but it may happen that a generation of unintelligent leaders will get into the habit of endeavouring to avoid whatever disturbs the mere arrangement of their forces, and will aim at preserving that, even when, by so doing, they have to let slip the opportunity of damaging the enemy. in the first dutch war this pedantry had not yet begun to be visible among the admirals on either side. that the modern navy was beginning in this war is further to be seen in the fact that we now first meet with a general body of orders established for the maintenance of discipline by the authority of the state. hitherto each admiral had drawn up his own code, and from among them there had been formed what may, without a fantastic abuse of words, be called a body of common law known as the customs of the sea. the brief pamphlet containing the regulations of the council of state is the germ of the weighty volume, hardly smaller than a family bible, which contains the queen's regulations and admiralty instructions. there will be occasion to return to it when we reach the great organising period of charles ii.'s reign. it is enough to note at present that, while maintaining the old authority of the admirals and captains, it gave the seamen a security against the arbitrary will of their superiors by providing that they were not to be punished until after regular trial. one change in the internal economy of the ship was promoted by this war. hitherto it had been the custom to carry lieutenants in ships of the third rate and upwards, and in them only one. under the strain of a great and serious war, it was found that this did not afford a sufficient supply of the higher rank of officers, and the number of lieutenants was increased. admiral penn, in a letter to cromwell dated early in the war, argued they should be employed in all vessels. "and if the charge of it be objected, it may be answered that, by taking off one man from each ship that shall have these lieutenants (which man's victuals and wages is s. d. per diem), the lieutenant receiving as common pay, which is d. per diem, makes him s.; and truly, 'tis a sad lieutenant that's not worth two common men in time of action." the enemy with whom we were about to engage was strong enough to call for the exercise of the whole power of england. he was not, however, of such resources but that it was within our means to overcome him by sufficient exertions. in number of seamen and ships the united provinces excelled us largely, but not in the number of men available for war, or of ships equal to the strain of battle. england was still mainly an agricultural and pastoral country. she could, if needful, take nearly all her seamen for her fleet, and suspend her trade for a time. the dutch republics could not do so without ruin. three hundred and sixty thousand people depended on the herring fishery for their subsistence. amsterdam, according to the old proverb, was built upon herrings. unless this trade could be pursued, ruin stared the state of holland in the face. the over-sea commerce and the carrying trade were no less vital. the dutch were the carriers by sea, and the importers of tropical produce, for all europe. if the fishery and the over-sea trade were even seriously interrupted, the loss to holland was colossal; therefore even an inability to drive the english fleets off the sea, though it might stop short of complete defeat for themselves, would entail such loss on the states that they would be forced to make peace. in view of the strenuous exertions of both charles i. and the long parliament to strengthen the english navy, the dutch government ought certainly to have taken proportionate measures to increase their own. but the dutch naval strength had been rather neglected. this error can be accounted for by more causes than one. the republics had hitherto had to contend with spain alone at sea, and she had long ceased to be a formidable enemy. in the meantime they had been called upon to maintain a constant land warfare, first against spain alone, and then in the later stages of the european conflict called the thirty years' war. they had to keep on foot an army of , men, which was raised by voluntary enlistment and largely recruited abroad. it was therefore very costly, and to it the navy had been sacrificed. the princes of the house of orange, though great soldiers and great statesmen, had not been uninfluenced by professional feeling. they had consequently devoted their attention mainly to the army by which they had won their own glory. between economy and the want of statesmanlike military direction, the naval force had been treated in a somewhat peddling fashion. its ships were slighter and smaller than the fine vessels constructed by the petts. as they were also made flat-bottomed, in order to navigate the shallows of the dutch coast, they were less weatherly than the english, and therefore liable to be out-manoeuvred and out-sailed in the open sea. the nature of the government of the united netherlands was a cause of weakness to their fleet and of strength to us. although we habitually speak of the dutch republic, there were, in fact, seven sovereign republics, each independent within its own borders, joined together by necessity, and common interests, in a very loose confederation. the authority of the stadtholders of the house of nassau, princes of orange, had given unity of direction to the armed forces of the confederacy. they were captains and admirals general, and so commanders-in-chief by sea and land. they appointed to the higher posts, and could secure the steady combined co-operation of all the forces. but in there was no stadtholder. william ii., the successor of frederick henry, and son-in-law of charles i., had died suddenly in the midst of a conflict with the state of holland, and the reigning prince of orange was his posthumous son, our own king william, after the revolution of . william ii. had been aiming at welding the whole seven provinces into one strongly organised state, under the hereditary rule of his own house. he had made an unsuccessful attempt to seize amsterdam and coerce the state of holland. in the course of this adventure he had imprisoned a number of the magistrates in his castle of loevenstein--from which the republican party took their name. it is possible he might have succeeded if he had lived; and in that case we know, and the long parliament knew, that he had entered into an alliance with the king of france, for the double purpose of dividing the spanish netherlands between them, and upsetting the republic in england. but he died before doing more than arouse the republican party in his own country, and convince those who now ruled england that their own safety was bound up with the destruction of the house of orange nassau. in the absence of an admiral-general, the control of the naval forces of the low countries was divided between five boards of admiralty,--that of the maas, which sat at rotterdam, that of amsterdam, that of north holland, and the boards of zeeland and friesland. the states general, the only approach to a common government of the confederacy, was a body in which each republic had one vote, though represented by a number of deputies. it was of more dignity than real strength, and exercised only the powers delegated to it by the different members of the union. at a later period, the state of holland, the most wealthy of the seven republics, was enabled to gain a supremacy which to some extent replaced the authority of the stadtholder. it owed its success mainly to the statesmanship of the grand pensionary, john de witt. but in the first dutch war, de witt was at the very beginning of his career, and the republics suffered from all the weaknesses of an ill-knit and jarring confederacy. even if all the inhabitants of the seven provinces had been united in sentiment, the defects in the construction of their government would have put them at a disadvantage in a conflict with england. but it is notorious that this was far from being the case. the victory of the republicans had been the victory of the moneyed classes in the towns, of a very able, very patriotic, but also very narrow and jealous oligarchy. the majority of the nobles and the mass of the poorer classes were devoted in sentiment to the house of orange nassau, and would, if they had had their way, have seen the stadtholdership conferred at once on the young prince, with a regent drawn from his own family to administer for him until he came of age. many of the army and navy officers had the same wish, so that the states general were in constant fear of domestic sedition, while the party feelings of the officers of the fleet are believed to have interfered with the discharge of their duty. the condition of england was very different. those who ruled might be a revolutionary party, governing by force, but they claimed to have inherited all the rights of the crown, and it is beyond doubt they had effective possession of them. thus, while on the side of holland there was continual need for the co-operation of independent if not always mutually hostile bodies, there was on the side of england one central authority acting according to its own motives, and rendering an account of its deeds to nobody. this government, too, was composed of men steeled against all risks by years of conflict in which their heads had been at stake, and trained by long practice to the rapid transaction of public affairs. the predominance of the commercial element in holland prevented the development of a high military spirit among its seamen. the dutch were skilful mariners, and valiant in a stolid, enduring way, but their officers in many cases showed a very unofficerlike reluctance to face risks. in our fleet something of the same kind was found among the merchant captains left in command of the hired or pressed ships, and no doubt the war, which tried men as by fire, revealed the weakness of individuals. yet the evil with us was less, and the power to remedy it was far greater. not the least cause of the superior strength of england is to be found in her geographical position. her coasts stretched opposite those of holland, while she herself was open to the west. thus the dutch trade, the very life-blood of the country, was compelled to flow either along the channel, where it was subject to attack at every moment, or by the longer and stormier route round the north of scotland, where also it was not safe, since the route ended in the north sea opposite the naval station of harwich. on a general comparison, then, of the relative strength of the two countries, it will be seen that the advantage was on the side of england. there were numbers against her, and a somewhat greater experience. but she had unity of authority, better instruments of war, a more martial spirit, a stronger geographical position, and she was much less vulnerable. if, then, ability and energy were not wanted in the direction of her fleet, the probability was that she would win. chapter vii the first dutch war authorities.--the life of penn is of the utmost value for this period, and is rivalled in worth by brandt's _life of michael de ruyter_. admiral colomb's _naval warfare_ contains a very important critical examination of the war from the scientific point of view. parliament began the practice, afterwards imitated by the government of charles ii., of publishing official narratives of events. the best of these are given in the life of penn. the calendars of state papers for the years give the most important letters from the fleet in full, and the others in précis. when in the beginning of war was seen to be inevitable, england had in hand a considerable force of ships already commissioned, manned by crews which had been long together. ayscue had just returned from america, and penn from the mediterranean, where his place had been taken by captain badiley. the summer guard was being prepared in great strength under the sole command of blake. popham died about this time, and deane was with the troops in scotland. in march the council of state was busy commissioning ships as fast as it could. it forbade the pressing of men from outward-bound merchant vessels, on the ground that this was a serious hindrance to trade, but it used every other available means to increase its naval force. the higher commands were filled by giving the place of vice-admiral to william penn, and of rear-admiral to nicholas bourne, a soldier who was mainly employed during the course of the war as commissioner of the dockyard at harwich. the states general made strenuous efforts to preserve peace, but the council of state insisted on such terms as could not be accepted without the surrender of the national existence of the republics. the grand pensionary, pauw de heemstede, was sent over to reinforce the ambassadors, but, while they were negotiating, exertions were made to collect a competent naval force at sea. the need for one was great. the dutch convoys were coming up the channel, and, in the humour england was in, there was no small probability that they would be seized before they reached home. to afford them protection, tromp was sent into the straits of dover with a fleet of some forty sail. he appeared there about the middle of may, and found bourne at dover with eight ships. blake was at rye with fifteen or sixteen. a conflict had already taken place in the channel, arising out of the historic quarrel as to the right to the salute. on the th of may, captain young, on his way westward to take command of the west guard, met a dozen sail coming from the southward near the start. he took them at first for the fleet of sir george ayscue. they turned out to be a convoy of dutch ships from genoa and leghorn, accompanied by three men-of-war. young at once insisted upon the salute. it was yielded by one of the dutchmen, but resisted by the second, a -gun ship; and a hot conflict followed, all six vessels taking active part. young reported that he finally compelled the recalcitrant dutchman to strike, but that, when he also wanted to carry him prisoner to england, the hollanders declared that they preferred fighting again. upon this young sheered off, by the advice of his fellow-captains, reynolds and chapman. the action would appear to have been somewhat indecisive, but captain young was well pleased with his share. "for my own part," he wrote, "i bless god for it, i am very well. i do believe i gave him his belly full of it; for he sent me word he had orders from the states that if he struck he should lose his head; but at length he did strike, which makes me conceive he had enough of it." the states were indeed well disposed to resist the claim to the salute, and, at the pitch things had got to, may well have thought that there was little use in rendering a mark of deference which seemed to do them no good. while the convoy attacked by captain young was making its way up channel, tromp came into dover road, and there exchanged civilities with admiral bourne. the english were in a suspicious frame of mind, and disposed to see offence in all tromp's acts. they may perhaps have remembered his high-handed attack on oquendo at that very place fourteen years earlier. in any case, they knew that he was a loyal member of the orange party, that he had been knighted by charles i., and that he was no friend to the english nation. bourne sent word to blake at rye, and the english admiral at once got under way and came round to dover. on the morning of the th he came in sight of tromp at anchor in and near dover road. when blake was within three leagues of him, tromp weighed, and stood to the eastward with a north-easterly wind. the english did not come to an anchor, but continued lying to, watching tromp, who held his course for some two hours. then a small vessel was seen to speak to the dutch admiral. tromp immediately altered his course and bore down on blake, he himself leading in his flagship, the _brederode_. blake also was at the head of his own ships. in this position he watched the dutch admiral, whose action certainly indicated no unwillingness to provoke a collision. the right to the salute served to bring matters to an issue. when tromp was within musket-shot, blake gave orders to fire at his flag. at the third shot the dutchman answered by a broadside, which may be considered as the effectual opening of perhaps the fiercest, though one of the shortest, of naval wars. the place of this collision was somewhere between the south sand head, the most southerly point of the goodwin sands, and cape gris nez on the coast of france. the time was the afternoon, and the action lasted until dark. blake was lying to, with the heads of his ships probably pointing to the english shore. he in his flagship, the =james=, was at the head of his line. tromp in the _brederode_ bore down with his squadron in line behind him. in this war it is not uncommon to find admirals leading their line, as nelson and collingwood did at trafalgar, instead of placing themselves in the midst, as was the custom throughout the more pedantic time of the eighteenth century. this is one of the resemblances between the earlier and the later periods in the history of the english navy, which bind them together in distinction to the more dull and more formal age between. if tromp had had to deal with blake only, there could have been but one end to the conflict. the dutch admiral directed his attack on the english flagship. as blake was at the windward end of his line, this would have enabled the dutchman to concentrate an overwhelming force on the =james= and the ships immediately about her, before the more leewardly of the english ships could come to their assistance. but there was a third combatant to be considered. bourne had got under way from the downs when he saw the threatening manoeuvres of tromp, and his position enabled him to attack the rear and northerly end of the dutch line. thus the combatants were curiously mingled. while tromp with a superior force was attacking blake, who was to leeward, he was himself attacked from windward by bourne. we know little of the details of the battle, or of the conduct of individual ships. the =james=, attacked by the _brederode_ and other dutch warships, was very severely handled. "all our rigging and sails," as blake reported in his despatch, "were extremely shattered, our mizenmast shot off." the loss in men was severe: six killed, "and nine or ten desperately wounded, and twenty-five more not without danger; amongst them our master and one of his mates and other officers," is the number reported by blake. a century later, a line-of-battle ship attacked at such disadvantage by enemies of equal quality would have been cut to pieces in half an hour. the wild gunnery of the time accounts for blake's escape from utter destruction. the struggling mass of ships wrestled in the straits until dark, cannonading one another to the best of their ability. when night came, they separated. blake, with the advice of the captains, came to an anchor three or four leagues off dungeness. tromp stood over to the coast of france. one dutch vessel remained in the hands of the english, so shattered that her captor, lawson, did not think her worth keeping, but took her crew out, and forsook her. the news of this encounter provoked an outbreak of popular feeling in london. the council of state thought it necessary to send a body of troops to defend the house of the dutch ambassador at chelsea. negotiations did not wholly cease, but they had become an idle form. the english government insisted upon an apology, compensation, and the punishment of tromp. this demand was naturally refused by the states general, and at last the mere appearance of negotiation was given up. both sides prepared to exert their whole strength in an armed struggle. the english government took vigorous measures to deal with the inevitable, orders were sent to the vice-admirals of the coast counties (the justices of the peace for maritime affairs), ordering them to hasten on the press of sailors. it was voted that forty sail of ships should be commissioned in addition to those already in the service of the commonwealth. letters were sent to deane, who commanded the troops in scotland, ordering him to make haste with the reduction of dunottar castle, where a forlorn royalist garrison was still holding out, to take measures for the protection of the fisheries, and to make himself acquainted with the military value of the harbours of orkney and shetland. at the same time, the council of state was concerned with the question of discipline. two of the captains engaged on the th of may, thoroughgood and gibbs, were charged with not having behaved themselves well, and were called upon to answer for their "miscarriage." here is the first of various mentions of the measure which had to be taken to establish a proper military spirit among the captains of the commonwealth's fleet. merchant captains entrusted with the command of hired or pressed ships were not as a class trustworthy, for reasons very excellently stated by penn in a letter to cromwell, written within a fortnight after the engagement in the straits. "my lord, it is humbly conceived, that the state would be far better served, if, as formerly, they placed commanders in all the merchant-ships so taken up; for, the commanders now employed being all part-owners of their ships (and fearing some not so clearly conscientious as they should be), i do believe will not be so industrious in taking an enemy as other men; especially considering, that by engagement they not only waste their powder and shot, but are liable to receive damage in their masts, sails, rigging, and hull, and endanger the loss of all, when they may be quiet, and receive the same pay. if they should be oppressed, and forced, it is supposed they will fight for preservation and safety of their ships; which anyone the state shall think fit to employ would perform, and, i presume, upon better principles." the men whose conduct penn discusses were not necessarily cowards, they were only not fighters by profession. shocking as it may seem in view of the traditional reputation of the two heroes about to be named, i doubt whether every word of this paragraph might not have been made to apply to sir john hawkins and sir francis drake, neither of whom can be shown to have ever fought "longer than he saw occasion"; that is to say, longer than he had before him a clear prospect of immediate pecuniary results. but though their standard of conduct may have done very well for a time of plundering expeditions and private adventure, it was absolutely unfitted for a great war, which demands that all parts of the forces engaged shall always be ready to obey orders, and to do their best, or be punishable for failure. a more agreeable duty to the council of state was to give their thanks to the mayor, jurats, and seamen of dover who had volunteered to reinforce blake's fleet during the late engagement with tromp. they were duly thanked and encouraged to persevere by a promise of an advance of part of the £ required to build their new pier. neither england nor holland were sufficiently ready for a war on a great scale to be able to dispense with time for preparation. the month of june was passed by both in equipping fleets. ayscue had reached plymouth at the end of may. he arrived, bringing with him numbers of dutch prizes taken on the way, for the making of reprisals had been begun on our side long before the pretence of a treaty of peace had been given up. he was ordered to make ready at once to reinforce blake, if the condition of his ships after their long cruise made it possible for him to keep the sea. ayscue came on from plymouth after a short stay. on his way he had a sharp brush with a dutch convoy, which beat him off, and he reached the downs about the middle of june with eleven men-of-war. blake had been in the meantime largely reinforced. his fleet at this time was estimated at forty-seven ships belonging to the state and twenty-six merchant ships, but it does not follow that he had this number actually with him. indeed, with the still unsettled organisation of the time, when fleets were suddenly made up by additions from the outside, it was not easy for the state itself to discover how many vessels were ready, and there were apt to be curious discrepancies between the numbers returned by an admiral and by other officers reporting directly to the government. by the end of june, or the first days of july, a sufficient force had been collected to make it possible to despatch blake to the northward with "a gallant fleet" of sixty sail, while ayscue was left in the downs with fifteen or sixteen. the second-named squadron included the vessels ayscue had brought back from the west indies, with a few additions. on the side of the enemy there had been no slackness. the states general, or, to speak with greater exactness, the five admiralty boards, exerted themselves to make up for the neglect of recent years by arming the greatest possible number of vessels. by the beginning of july a fleet of a hundred and two warships and ten fireships was ready to sail from the texel under the command of tromp. behind him another fleet was in preparation, to be put under de ruyter for separate service. the object of the dutch was to secure the safe issue of the outward-bound convoys from the narrow seas, and to secure the home-coming of the merchant fleets. it was also incumbent upon them to afford protection to the great herring fleet which fished in the north sea. all these ends would have been effected if tromp had been ready in time to catch blake in the downs, and had then been strong enough to make a victorious attack upon him. with the main english fleet well beaten, the dutch convoys could have gone out or come in, and their herring busses might have fished undisturbed. but tromp was not ready in time, and when he came out he found his course by no means very clear before him. as he left the texel, he was informed by the grand pensionary, pauw de heemstede, who had just returned from england, that ayscue was in the downs with only sixteen ships. whether tromp knew that blake had sailed for the north does not appear. if he did, he may still have thought that as he was by no means certain of meeting with the parliamentary admiral, and that as he could not calculate on destroying his fleet, it would be better policy to fall upon the enemy whose weakness was known, and who was within striking distance. very shortly after blake had sailed, a portion of tromp's force appeared at the back of the goodwins. ayscue was in manifest peril, but for this time it passed off. the dutch officers did not feel confident enough to attack him where he had the support of the batteries of dover. they retired for a few days, and then the whole fleet of tromp made its appearance. that there must have been want of spirit on part of the dutch was manifest, for in the interval ayscue was allowed to sally and capture a merchant convoy. when the whole force of tromp appeared off dover, the peril in which ayscue's ships stood was great. the council of state sent hurriedly to blake to inform him of the danger, leaving it, however, at his discretion to return or not, as he thought fit. blake had passed dunbar before he could be informed of tromp's movement, and does not appear to have made great haste to return. on his way up and down he executed the duty for which he had been sent to the north. he fell upon the dutch herring fleets, overpowering the squadron of fifteen frigates which was giving it protection against pirates, and seized the busses. the dutch fishermen were not treated with what was considered inhumanity in the wars of that time. they were allowed to return to holland after paying the tax of the tenth herring which england claimed to exact for permitting foreigners to fish within ten leagues, that is, thirty miles, of her coast. but the herring fishery was ruined for the year, and very serious injury inflicted on holland. it can hardly be disputed that, though he may have been right purely from a military point of view, tromp committed a mistake in directing his attack against ayscue. had he followed blake, he would in all probability have saved the herring fleet; and even if a few merchant convoys had been sacrificed, this was a loss holland could have better spared than that which she was actually compelled to undergo. while blake was ruining the dutch herring fishery for that year, tromp did not even succeed in destroying the squadron of ayscue. light and baffling winds made it impossible for him to attack, and, after they had paralysed him for a time, a change of weather occurred which was still more to his disadvantage. he was blown off the coast by storms. the stroke he had hoped to deliver in the downs having missed of its aim, tromp sailed to the north, where holland had also commercial interests to protect. the baltic trade was of immense interest to her, and at that time some of her indiamen were expected to be on their way back by the northern route. the dutch admiral did not meet blake, either on his way up or while in high latitudes. he collected his convoys, and turned homewards. but his fortune was destined to be bad throughout the campaign. he was overtaken in the north sea by violent storms, and his convoy was scattered. the dutch reached home in detachments, and several of their stragglers fell into the hands of english cruisers. the outcry against tromp was loud. popular judgment held him responsible for the loss of the herring fishery. the veteran admiral can hardly have been thoroughly satisfied with himself, for, though fortune had been against him, it cannot be denied that it had been helped by his own management. he had sacrificed the greater to the less, the more pressing to the more remote, and therefore ill-luck had smitten him, and through him his country, with the full force of its venom. he resigned his command as lieutenant-admiral of holland, and was succeeded by two seamen of less reputation. one of these was cornelius witte de with, whom we, confounding his name with that of the famous grand pensionary, commonly called de witt. he was a rough, stout-hearted, outspoken man, who, after bearing his part with honour during this war, died in battle with the swedes. the other was michael adrianzoon de ruyter (_i.e._ the trooper, a nickname taken as a name), a small, blue-eyed, pious, and gentle man, who for the next twenty years was to fight with increasing glory for the protection of holland. immediately, or very shortly after, tromp had sailed for the north, sir george ayscue was despatched down channel on a double mission. he had in the first place to protect our own trade against the dutch attacks, and in the second to fall upon the convoys of the enemy. his fleet was reinforced to forty vessels and upwards. while he was on his way to the west, michael de ruyter had sailed from holland on a similar mission. he had with him a great convoy which was to be seen safe beyond the land's end. and then he was to wait for the home-coming ships, and bring them back. as by that time the bulk of the english force might be concentrated in the english channel, he was probably assured that reinforcements from the main fleet at home would be sent to see him safely back. on the th of august a collision took place off plymouth between ayscue and de ruyter. the dutch were seen out at sea, and to windward. ayscue stood out to the attack, and came into action with de ruyter in the afternoon. the dutch admiral, who was a man of good judgment, and therefore understood the advantages of attacking, discharged the duties of the commander of a convoy admirably well. having the advantage of the wind, he bore down at once to attack ayscue, leaving his convoy to make its way onward unmolested. he may have been the more readily induced to take the bold course by seeing that ayscue's ships were not well in hand. the english admiral had only part of his vessels immediately with him, the others being some distance astern nearer the shore. with the usual boldness of the commonwealth's admirals, and in reliance, as we may suppose, on the greater average solidity of the english ships, ayscue had no hesitation in meeting attack halfway. the movements of the fight are vaguely reported. it is, however, said that ayscue broke through de ruyter's line and gained the weather-gage with part of his fleet. if this is so, we may conclude that the two fleets met on opposite tacks, that the dutch weathered the head of the english line, that ayscue himself was leading, that he held his wind, and made, or found, an opening, through which he passed to windward. when this was done, he was not strong enough to push the battle with any prospect of advantage, as a large part of his squadron was unable to work up to his support. if this was the case, he was cut off, and in danger of being overpowered, but the strength of the english ships again stood them in good stead, and moreover the night came on. de ruyter may not have thought it wise to do more than was sufficient to cripple the english admiral, so as to debar him from pursuing the convoy. if this was his purpose, he succeeded. the vessels which had followed ayscue in his spirited movement were badly cut up in their rigging. when daylight came, the dutch admiral had regained the weather-gage. ayscue remained in expectation of another attack, but none was made. de ruyter contented himself with carrying off his convoy. the conduct of ayscue had not been on a level with his courage, and the council of state was apparently persuaded that he was unequal to the command of a great fleet. they removed him shortly afterwards from active service, though they softened the severity of this measure by a grant of handsome pensions. it was perhaps some suspicion of the insufficiency of their commanding officer in the west which induced the council of state first to call upon blake to reinforce him, and then to send their admiral and general into the channel himself. the most effectual method of reducing holland would have been to establish blake on the dutch coast with a force capable of maintaining a blockade. but the council of state either did not understand this, or did not think their fleet powerful enough. they preferred to collect a strong force in the channel, for the purpose of protecting their own commerce and strangling that of the dutch. in the middle of september blake was in the channel, making his way westward with the main fleet. when his van, under the command of vice-admiral penn, was as far westward as bolt head, stormy weather from the west and south-west made it seem advisable to blake to bear up for torbay with the bulk of his fleet. penn, however, remained out with a part of the ships. on the afternoon of the th he caught sight of two dutch vessels to windward, which were seen to be making signals. the look-out men at the topmasthead saw behind the two dutchmen, visible from the deck, a large fleet of ships still farther to windward. penn, on his own showing, was prepared to engage in spite of the enemy's obvious superiority of numbers. he had the approval of bourne, the rear-admiral, who advised that all the captains within call should be summoned to a council, in order that they might know that the enemy was at hand. the code of signals was in its infancy, or else penn could have given his captains that information more rapidly than by the clumsy device of a council in his flagship. penn was unwilling to act as bourne wished, "lest any dirty mouth should say i called for counsel whether i should fight or no." after a decent reluctance, the council flag was hung out on the mizen shrouds, and the captains were duly summoned to learn the vice-admiral's intention of giving battle. he had in sight eighteen or twenty sail, with the merchantmen and fireships. by two in the afternoon the captains had ended their council, and were gone back, each man to his own ship. they lay to with their head to the offing, waiting for the dutchmen to come down, for they could not work up to the enemy, and, if they had stood across the channel for the purpose of tacking in his direction, they might have seemed to be opening a way for him to pass. the enemy was estimated at thirty-five or forty ships, but he made no attack. he came down to within three or four miles, and then hauled his wind and stood out across channel. penn stood after him till he was detained by an accident to bourne's ship. in the meantime it had become stormy, with rain and mist, and the wind at s.w. by s. towards midnight it cleared up, a stiff gale from the west blew off the mist, but it was dark and the moon did not rise until after midnight. so penn alternately lay to and stood off in the darkness. about half an hour after midnight, the flash of gun-fire was seen far off on the weather quarter. penn immediately made signals by firing guns and showing lights, summoning his squadron to follow him in the direction of the fire. the fire ended within a quarter of an hour, and all was again in silence and darkness to windward. next morning one of penn's look-out frigates, the =assurance=, captain sanders, bore under his stern, and let him know what had happened. the firing had been between captain sanders and a "lusty ship" which he saw bearing eastward somewhat to the north of him. sanders "fired two guns to make her stay, but they would not; upon which sanders hove out his topsail, and presently came up with him; asked him whence his ship? he answered, of flushing. sanders bid him amain (shorten sail) for the commonwealth of england, who answered very uncivilly; upon which they began to fire on each other, and continued until sanders had lost sight of all our lights, being about an hour, so left the fleming, who all the time of the fight steered somewhat a southerly course; and about the time sanders left him he saw to the southward of them several lights, and he was certain of one whereof had a light in his maintop; all which he clearly perceived to steer away to the eastward, and was confident it was the hollands fleet, who made use of the darkness of the first part of the night to pass by us." penn thought this "low and poor-spirited" in the bitterness of his disappointment. the truth was, that the english had been completely out-manoeuvred. that light in the maintop was de ruyter's. while penn was lying to, waiting to be attacked, and blake was at torbay, he had taken a sweep out to the southward and carried his convoy up channel before the stiff westerly gale. between the date when he returned to face tromp and that on which he sailed westward to replace ayscue, blake had been called upon to dispose of a little war with france. the commonwealth was not exactly in a state of open hostility with the french king, but it had grounds of complaint against his officers. they had helped rupert, and, taking advantage of the supposed weakness of the revolutionary government in england, they had plundered the ships of the smyrna company. on the other hand, spain had on the whole been friendly. as it happened in the early days of september that the spanish governor of the low countries was endeavouring to regain possession of the towns of dunkirk and mardyke, then held by french garrisons, and as a french naval force, commanded by the duc de vendôme, was on its way to relieve the french soldiers, the commonwealth saw an opportunity of delivering a blow at those who had attempted to harass england. blake fell upon the duc de vendôme, took seven of his vessels, and scattered the others. the french government complained, and the council of state ordered an inquiry. but it gave no satisfaction, and for the present the incident passed over among the many other violent and irregular transactions of the time. the besieged towns surrendered to the spaniards, and remained in their hands until, by a strange change of fortune, they passed into those of the protector cromwell. a day or two after he had been disappointed of an encounter with de ruyter, vice-admiral penn rejoined blake outside of torbay. the reunited english ships followed the dutch up the channel, but failed to overtake them. de ruyter effected his junction with cornelius de with, and together they saw the convoys safe back into port; then, having provided for the trade, they returned to the coast of england to menace the english fleet. on the th of september, blake, who was at anchor in the downs, was informed that the dutch had made their appearance to the northward. he at once put to sea. on the following day the english fleet was very scattered. the van, under the command of penn, and a part of the centre, including blake's flagship, were together, stretching across the mouth of the estuary of the thames. part of the centre and the rear had not yet succeeded in getting clear out of the downs. the wind was w. by n. while the english fleet was in this scattered condition, the look-out ships of penn's squadron found the dutch to the eastward, and leeward of the kentish knock, the farthest out of the shallows on the coast of essex and suffolk. the english ships had worked to windward, and had the weather-gage--that is to say, the power of bearing right down on the enemy with the wind behind them. penn, as ready, if we are to believe his own report, to engage a superior enemy as he had been a month before near bolt head, asked blake's leave to attack. he was told to wait until the rest of the fleet came up, and therefore stretched ahead of his commander-in-chief, leaving a sufficient space for his division to fall into line between him and blake. in the course of stretching out, he came too near the kentish knock, on which his own flagship and two others touched. he found it necessary to tack, and as he must have been standing to the n. before, this would bring him round so that he headed south. in the meantime blake had been joined by the remaining ships of the centre and rear, and held on his course to the north, passing well clear of the knock to leeward. the dutch had been lying to in a line, stretched from n. to s. as blake stood on to the north, they filled, and passed on his lee side, heading to the south. while the two lines were passing one another and cannonading as they went past, the van, under the command of penn, was heading more or less in the same direction as the dutch, but on the other side of blake's ships. thus, when the dutch cleared the centre and rear of the english fleet, the van, which had been moving in the same direction, fell, in penn's words, "pat to receive them," and stayed by them till night. we must suppose that the centre and rear of the english fleet either tacked or wore together and fell into line behind penn. the action was far from decisive. on the english side the leaders did nothing to lose the supposed advantage of the weather-gage, by endeavouring to break through the dutch line, and so put themselves between the enemy and his refuge in holland. they were content to remain to windward, cannonading, and perhaps attempting to make use of their fireships. on the other hand, the dutch fighting was not worthy of its reputation. their fleet was, if anything, rather superior in number to the english. but they were divided by violent party and professional jealousies. the friends of tromp were hostile to his successors, cornelius de with and michael de ruyter. it is said that the crew of the _brederode_ refused to allow de with to hoist his flag in her. some of the captains, who were probably merchant skippers taken into the war fleet, according to the custom which prevailed also among ourselves, showed downright cowardice, and cornelius de with was provoked into saying that some of them would find there was wood enough in holland to make a gallows. it is clear that only the late hour at which the action began, and the approach of darkness, saved the dutch fleet from a serious disaster. if the english leaders had steered through the dutch line from windward to leeward, and had put themselves on the enemy's line of retreat, a long list of prizes would have been brought into english ports. but though our admirals in this war were always ready to break the line from leeward to windward, they seem to have avoided the other and much more effective movement. when night fell, the dutch were allowed to retreat with comparatively trifling loss. we asserted, indeed, that several of them had been sunk, but no reliance is to be placed on statements of that kind. nothing is more common than to find men asserting that they had sunk an enemy, when in fact they had only lost sight of him in the smoke. next morning the dutch were in sight to the eastward, and, the wind having shifted in the night, they had now the weather-gage. blake endeavoured to renew the action, but cornelius de with and de ruyter, having no confidence in their fleet, retreated to their own ports. the english followed till they had sight of the dutch coast, and then, finding that the enemy was beyond their reach, returned to the downs. our easy victory proved somewhat misleading. thinking that the enemy was fairly beaten, the english government relaxed its precautions. a considerable part of the fleet was despatched, under the command of penn, to convoy the colliers who carried london's supply of fuel from the northern ports. during the whole of october and the greater part of november all seemed quiet, and blake lay in the downs with no more than forty ships. but the dutch were preparing for a vigorous counter-stroke. finding that martin tromp was the only man who could be trusted to make their fleet do its duty, the states general decided to restore him to the command. at the same time, great efforts were made to collect a powerful force. there was, indeed, need for exertion. the outward-bound convoys had to be seen clear of the channel, and, in order that this could be done, it was necessary to collect a force capable of dealing with the main english fleet. as november drew to its close, this had been achieved. on the th of the month, tromp made his appearance at "the back of the goodwins," that is to say, between the sands and the coast of france, with eighty warships, and behind him a convoy of merchant vessels. with a reduced force under his orders, blake was really incapable of preventing his enemy from carrying his convoy through the straits, but, with the high spirit which the commonwealth's commanders seldom failed to display, he made a resolute effort to do the impossible. he weighed anchor and stood out. the wind at first was at s.w., which gave the weather-gage to blake, while making it impossible for tromp to take his great swarm of men-of-war and merchant ships round the south foreland. then it chopped suddenly and violently round to the n.w., and both fleets anchored before night--blake in dover roads, and tromp some three leagues farther out. next morning the wind was less violent, though still from the same point. both fleets weighed anchor. tromp steered to carry his convoy into the channel, keeping his warships carefully between the merchant ships and the english. blake followed, taking care not to lose the weather-gage, and the two fleets swept on together until they were in the neighbourhood of dungeness. the odds against him were so great that blake would have been well justified in avoiding action. but a council of war held in the flagship had decided that something must be attempted. our fleet had not yet been cured of the rashness already shown by sir george ayscue in act, and by penn in intention. the lesson they were about to receive was very much needed, and it was part of our fortune in this war that it did not prove more severe. in the course of the afternoon of tuesday the th of november, the forty english ships under the command of blake forced an action with tromp's eighty. as they held and kept the weather-gage, they escaped complete destruction, but they were severely cut up, and two, the =garland= and the =bonaventure=, fell into the possession of the enemy. these two vessels, commanded by captains axon and batten, had the audacity to attach themselves to tromp's flagship. they were promptly surrounded and overpowered. the attempt which blake made to rescue them was unsuccessful, and as the english ships were unwilling to lose the weather-gage, they could do little more than look on and cannonade from a distance, while the two which had pushed into the midst of the enemy suffered for their excess of daring. night again put an end to the battle. the english first anchored near dover, and then returned to the downs. tromp saw his convoy out of the channel, and then cruised up and down threatening our coast, and waiting for the home-coming merchant ships. blake returned to the downs chastened and even a little depressed by the failure of his attempt to defeat tromp with insufficient forces. he offered to resign his command. the council of state did not take him at his word. on the contrary, they assured him of their continued confidence, and left him entire discretion as to his movements, while making every effort to strengthen his fleet. they began by taking measures to enforce discipline and a proper martial spirit amongst their captains. blake had complained "that there was much baseness of spirit, not among the merchantmen only, but many of the state's ships," and he had asked for a committee of inquiry. this request was instantly complied with. colonel walton, colonel morley, and mr. chalmer were sent down at once, not only to make a general inquiry into the action and the condition of the fleet, but to order a trial of those captains whose baseness of spirit had provoked the anger of the admiral. several of them were ordered for trial. blake's own brother, benjamin, was removed from his command. as benjamin blake was afterwards employed, and as the other three captains were only fined, it is to be presumed that their conduct had not been very bad. the truth probably is, that if all the captains had been as headlong as axon and batten, more of them would have shared the same fate. more effectual measures than the punishment of backward captains were the recall of penn from the north, and the commissioning of fresh ships. it was not easy to find the men. blake had complained in his first despatch that the great number of "private men-of-war," that is, privateers, allowed to cruise against dutch commerce, served to draw men off from the fleet. the sailors preferred the licence of the privateer, and the opportunities for plunder it presented, to the sterner discipline of the man-of-war. in the out-ports, too, it was difficult to enforce the press. the magistrates were frequently shipowners, who were unwilling to lose the crews of their own vessels, and, when they were not, they had a fellow-sympathy with their townsmen, which made them languid in the discharge of their duties. in spite of the efforts made by the commonwealth government to tempt men by promises of better pay and a larger share of prize-money, it was compelled to make unsparing use of the old prerogatives of the crown, to force all subjects to take a share in defending the realm. even this did not suffice. soldiers in large numbers had to be drafted into the fleet to serve as marines, although that word was not in use. there can be no doubt that these men were intended to make good the want of sailors, for it was especially provided that they were to be called upon to do the same work as far as possible. throughout the december of and january and february of , tromp rode unmolested in the channel. it was at this time that, according to a legend for which there is not much foundation, he hoisted a broom at his mainmast top as the outward and visible sign of his intention to sweep the channel. so little did the council of state feel capable of opposing him with a sufficient naval force during the earlier part of these three months, that it sent off officers to the south coast to remove the lights and buoys, in order to make it dangerous for the dutch to approach the shore. in fact, both the government and its admirals had learned that if the dutch were to be fairly beaten off, a competent force must be collected, and it must act together. to strengthen the command, deane was called back from scotland, and monk was named to fill up the vacancy left by the death of popham. these two, with blake, formed the commission to discharge the office of lord high admiral commanding at sea. penn was continued in his place as vice-admiral, but bourne was removed from active service to direct the dockyard at harwich, and his place at sea was taken by john lawson, who had gained a high reputation for skill and courage as a captain. these two may be said to have served as nautical assessors to the three soldiers who were entrusted with the general military direction of the fleet. towards the middle of february the whole of the naval forces on both sides moved down channel--tromp to wait off the land's end for the dutch convoys, and the english to wait for and fall upon him as he came back to the eastward. on the th of february the two fleets came in sight of one another some fifteen miles off portland. the wind was from the west, and was light. tromp had from eighty to ninety men-of-war with him, and behind them a great flock of merchant ships. the english, numbering from seventy to eighty ships, were to eastward and leeward, and were much scattered. only the smaller part of them were together, under the immediate direction of the generals at sea--blake and deane. the major part were at some distance to the eastward. seeing the comparative weakness and the isolation of the part of the english fleet nearest him, tromp took the energetic and intelligent decision to fall upon them at once. blake and deane did not flinch, and a hot engagement, in which the english were roughly handled, took place in the early afternoon. three of the english ships were taken by the dutch, but the enemy was not able to carry them off. while the ships immediately exposed to attack were engaged, the rest of the fleet to leeward was working up. about four o'clock it had gained a position which would have enabled it to weather the dutch line, and thus put tromp between two fires. to avoid this danger, the dutch admiral tacked his fleet together, and worked to windward--a sufficiently clear proof that the fleets of the time did not fight in a disorderly swarm, but were perfectly capable of manoeuvring together in obedience to signals. the three ships which had fallen into the hands of the dutch were retaken, but a fourth vessel, the =sampson=, was found to be so severely shattered, and had lost so many men, including her captain, that it was decided to withdraw the survivors and let her sink. during the evening the english were busy taking men out of the smaller ships to fill up the vacancies caused by death and wounds in the larger, and refitting their damaged rigging. during the night both made their way eastward, within sight of one another's lights, the english on the north side of the channel, then next them the dutch men-of-war keeping guard over the merchant ships, which sailed between them and the coast of france. on the morning of the th this great assemblage of ships, largely exceeding in number and still more in tonnage the combined fleets of medina sidonia and lord howard of effingham, was off the isle of wight. the wind was at w.n.w., which gave the weather-gage to the english, but it was very gentle, and the day was advanced before the english admirals could force an action. as his enemy had now his whole force in hand, tromp applied himself solely to the protection of his convoy. he sent his merchant ships on ahead, and formed his men-of-war in a half-moon, or rather obtuse angle, with his own flagship, the _brederode_, in the apex--that is to say, the other ships were formed in two slanting lines branching out to right and left of tromp himself. thus it was impossible for the english to attack the merchant ships, either from n.w. or from s.e., without breaking through the dutch men-of-war. the action of this day began late, and led to no decisive results, though the english claimed to have taken a few small ships. it can easily be believed that they succeeded in disordering the formation of the dutch--a very difficult one to maintain; and the bad conduct of several of the dutch captains near the kentish knock makes it credible that some of them were also guilty of misconduct on this occasion. the states general had not shown sufficient firmness in using the trees of holland for the purpose indicated by cornelius witte de with. the decisive day of the "three days' battle" was the last. on the morning of the th the wind had increased, and the english fleet, not being hampered by heavily laden merchant ships, had no difficulty in overtaking the enemy. a close action was forced as early as nine o'clock in the morning. both fleets were now approaching the entry to the straits of dover. the english were to the north of their enemy, and they steered so as, if possible, to head him before he reached cape gris nez and so cut his road home. the dutch ships either did not, or could not, serve as an effectual protection to the merchant vessels. tromp formed his line of battle, and did his own duty with the utmost steadfastness and courage. but the english broke through. the credit of the movement belongs to penn, who as vice-admiral had been leading the van. between fifty and sixty merchant ships fell into our hands, and as many more men-of-war as made up the total of our captures to seventeen. yet the english failed in their main purpose. they did not succeed in heading the dutch before they rounded cape gris nez, and by dark tromp anchored his whole force, now in great confusion, in calais roads. under cover of night, and by taking skilful advantage of the ebb-tide, which on that coast makes a north-easterly current, as also of the thick and squally weather which came on after sundown, he carried off all that remained of his convoy. in spite of our successes on the th, this was still the great bulk of his merchant ships. these three days of fighting had cost the english fleet very dear. both blake and deane were wounded, and the loss in captains and men was heavy. the victory had by no means been so complete as had been hoped, but it was not the less a subject of legitimate gratification to england. the general superiority of the english fleet whenever it was intelligently handled, and not hopelessly outnumbered, had been proved, and the country had good grounds for believing that if the war with holland was pushed with energy, its enemies would be driven off the sea. for the moment the fleet at the mouth of the straits was in no condition to pursue the dutch. when day broke on the st, the enemy had disappeared. the english fleet found itself alone, with some sixty prizes. it had suffered much damage to its masts and spars. with the wind at n.w. it was on a lee shore, and a gale, or even a very stiff breeze, would have put it in a position of some danger. the decision to make for an english port was both natural and proper. to put their prizes in a place of safety was the natural instinct of the men who looked to their prize-money for the larger part of their reward; and as tromp had had time enough to carry his convoy into the dangerous shallows of the dutch coast, there was nothing to be gained by pursuing him. the generals therefore returned to st. helen's and anchored on the rd. squadrons were sent out both to east and west of the isle of wight, but there was no longer any enemy at sea. the "three days' battle" was the turning-point of the war. hitherto the dutch had fairly divided the honours with ourselves, but from this time forward the upper hand passed decisively to the english fleet. the ships were stronger, and the crews in the main fought better. war is in the last result decided in favour of one combatant or other by power to win at the actual moment of contact. this power was with the english and not with the dutch, and therefore all the skill and patriotism of martin tromp and his lieutenants, witte de with and michael de ruyter, could do no more than postpone the final disaster, and provide that if the flag of holland were to go down, it should at least sink with honour. before the final decisive struggle was fought out, there was an interval, during which active operations languished. both fleets stood in need of repairs; for if the dutch had lost severely, not a few of our own vessels had been compelled to drag themselves into portsmouth so severely crippled that they were in need of a thorough refit. the work of getting the english fleet ready for sea once more was not discharged without difficulties and delay. the navy committee had many obstacles to overcome before its squadrons could be put in order to continue the war. there was a great want of men. the sailors no longer volunteered in any large numbers, and the press was ill enforced. colonel overton, the governor of hull, found the local magistrates so lax in their discharge of their duty that he was provoked into threatening to send them to sea in default of sailors. the unpopularity of the navy was due to causes of long standing. one of these, at least, endured throughout the whole course of our wars. it was discovered under the rule of the commonwealth that the seamen had not lost that preference of the privateer to the man-of-war they had shown during the reign of elizabeth. blake had complained of the competition of these partisan fighters of the sea at the very beginning of the war. government was constrained to put a severe check upon them, partly by limiting the issue of letters of marque to vessels of a certain size, and partly by giving men-of-war captains the right to press sailors from the privateers. there were also very genuine causes of discontent to deter men from volunteering into the service of the state. under the pressure due to the immense demands made upon its treasury, the commonwealth had become a bad paymaster. not only were the salaries of officers and men in arrear, but the contractors were slowly paid, and, taking advantage of the power given them by the position of creditor to the state, they supplied their goods late, and of inferior quality. in the summer of one captain john taylor reported to the admiralty that the men belonging to the ships at chatham had refused to do anything towards taking the ballast in or getting it out, or, in fact, to put their hand to the work of fitting the ships for sea. their excuse was the defective state of the victuals and beer. captain taylor had to confess that "they have brought me beer, bread, and butter, worse than i ever saw in the dearest times." the beer was particularly vile, and the brewer protested that he could not make it any better, because he was only paid three shillings and sixpence a barrel. the men found it so bad that they actually preferred to drink water. the crews imputed their sickness to the state of the victuals, and there is every probability that they were right. that the condition of the sick and wounded was deplorable is proved by the testimony of many witnesses. thus dr. daniel whistler, who was sent down to portsmouth in march to attend on general blake, gives a terrible picture of the state of those who, after being wounded in the "three days' battle," were landed at portsmouth. there was no hospital. the wounded men were left for hours in the streets before the navy commissioners could find lodgings for them in private houses. when they were lodged, the surgeons very often did not know where to find them, there was a want of linen and medicines, of wholesome food and good nursing. the houses were overcrowded, and nothing was done to protect men against the temptation to drink ardent spirits, which was especially strong at portsmouth, where the water was brackish. four months later, monk himself drew a hardly less dismal picture of the condition of the wounded at ipswich, aldeborough, southwold, and dunwich. the payments due for their support were irregularly made, and the inhabitants, we are told, were weary of them. monk was compelled to stand security at his own personal risk in order to raise money for the purpose of helping his unfortunate sailors, lying sick and wounded in the houses of people who in some cases were as poor as themselves, and in others were mere harpies. these evils were no doubt primarily due to want of money, but they can also be accounted for by the utter want of any organisation capable of dealing with the demands of war on an unprecedented scale. the council of state fought hard to meet the necessities of the times, and when it had been swept out of the way by cromwell's expulsion of the long parliament on the th of april, the council of the protector continued these efforts. thus, in december , a number of proposals for the encouragement of seamen had been made and accepted. they were divided into three sections. the first dealt with the sick and wounded men. they were promised that their pay should be continued until their health was restored, and it was decided that a general hospital should be erected at deal. some hospitals in london were to be given up wholly to sick and wounded seamen, and so were half the other hospitals in other parts of england. it was at this date that the wages of able seamen "fit for the helm and lead, top and yard," were raised from s. to s. a month, with a deduction of s. for the chaplain and surgeon, according to the ancient custom. this substantial benefit was accompanied by profuse promises of fairer treatment in future. another section of the propositions was devoted to the shares in prizes. a bonus of a month's salary was offered to every man who, having served six months, or upwards, since the beginning of the war, would volunteer for the coming year. in order to remove "the many and great disappointments caused by the present way of sharing prizes," it was provided that in future s. per ton should be paid for every vessel taken, and £ , s. d. for every piece of ordnance, "this to be shared amongst them proportionately, according to their respective offices in the ship, and the custom of the sea." what was probably not less agreeable to the sailors was an order that they should have the pillage, that is to say, the right to appropriate at once, as booty, whatever was found on or above the gun-deck of a prize, while a reward of £ per gun was to be paid for every vessel destroyed. if they could have been fairly carried out, these conditions would have done much to reconcile men to the navy, but, as has been already said, the chronic want of money both of the council of state and, in later times, of the protector, drove them to fail in their promises of payment, and to lay hands upon the money in the possession of the commissioners of prizes. yet these governments strove hard to make both ends meet, and did resolutely endeavour to stop pilfering in the administration of the navy. by expedients and hard work they contrived to keep powerful fleets at sea in an efficient condition. chapter viii the latter half of the war the only satisfactory account i have met of the sea fights of and the transactions at leghorn are given by the letters printed at length in the calendar of state papers of the interregnum for this year. it is on them that this chapter is based, in addition to authorities named above. during the pause in hostilities between the end of february and the end of may, the scene of operations of the two fleets was shifted from the channel to the north sea. it was well understood on the english side that the most effectual way of breaking the power of the dutch was to attack them on their own coast. our headquarters were fixed for the brief remains of the war at yarmouth and harwich. the violent measure by which cromwell ended for the time the existence of the long parliament made no change in the conduct of the naval war. it was on the th of april that he suddenly burst in on the eloquence of sir henry vane by declaring that there had been too much of this, put his hat on, and ordered colonel harrison's regiment of musketeers to turn the honourable members into the street. his action was accepted, and had no doubt been foreseen, by the officers commanding the fleet, and the men followed the lead of their superiors. at a meeting of naval officers held on board the =resolution= at spithead on the nd of april , a general declaration of adhesion to cromwell was drawn up. it leaves no doubt that the fleet was at least prepared to accept cromwell as the effectual ruler of england. it was addressed to the council of officers, and is as follows:-- "gentlemen,--there being certain intelligence come to our hands of the great changes within our nation, viz. the dissolution of this parliament; we, the general, commanders, and officers here present with this part of the fleet, have had a very serious consideration thereof, as also what was our duty, and incumbent upon us in such a juncture of time; and find it set upon our spirits, that we are called and intrusted by this nation for the defence of the same against the enemies thereof at sea, whether the people of the united provinces, or others. and we are resolved, in the strength of god, unanimously to prosecute the same, according to the trust reposed in us; and have thought good to signify the same unto you, desiring you will take the effectualest course you can for the strengthening and encouraging one another in this work; and doubt not but the lord, who hath done great and wonderful things for his people that have trusted in him, will also be found among us, his poor unworthy servants, if we continue firm and constant in our duties, walking before him in faith, humility, and dependence; not seeking ourselves, but his glory; which that we may all do, is the desire and prayer of your affectionate friends and brethren." this resolution was forwarded by cromwell to the ships on other stations, and was everywhere accepted. blake, indeed, did not sign it, for he was still confined on shore by his wound, but he continued to serve as admiral and general at sea. towards the end of may active operations were resumed. in spite of the losses suffered in february, the dutch took the offensive. their fleet, estimated at over a hundred ships, appeared in the downs, and attacked the forts at dover. on the day when the dutch were insulting our coast for the last time in this war, monk and deane were at yarmouth with the bulk of the english fleet. eleven ships, very ill manned, were fitting out in the thames under the command of blake, who had returned to service, though still not cured of his wounds. it was known that tromp was at sea, but great doubt prevailed as to his movements. transports engaged in bringing stores from the humber were warned to be on the outlook lest they should meet the lieutenant-admiral of holland in the northern part of the german ocean. nimble vessels were despatched in search of him in every direction. on the th of may, on the day in which tromp left the downs for the north, the generals at sea were informed of his attack on dover. they at once weighed, and fell down the coast to southwold bay. on the st of may they were at anchor off dunwich, where a few fragments of brickwork and a disused church now mark the site of what was once one of the busiest trading towns on the east coast of england. here they were informed that tromp's fleet had been seen at the head of the long sand. the long sand is, with the exception of the kentish knock, the farthest out of the belt of shallows stretching from the mouth of the thames to orford ness. monk and deane immediately sailed in pursuit. on the nd of june they caught sight of tromp to leeward. during the st they had waited for blake to join them from the river with his eleven ships. this reinforcement would have raised their fleet to a total strength of . but blake was not yet ready, and the weather was thick and hazy. on the nd it cleared up, and the dutch were seen to leeward. the english had the wind, and immediately sailed for the purpose of attacking. tromp, conscious that he was outmatched in strength of ships and weight of broadsides, adopted a plan of action which became habitual to the french admirals of the next century. he accepted battle to leeward, and retreated in a slanting direction, or, according to the sea phrase of the seventeenth century, "lasking." as the english line came down from windward, its van would naturally come into action before the centre, or rear, were within striking distance of the enemy. this would expose the leading ships of the attacking line to the fire of a superior number of enemies, and there would be considerable danger that they might suffer crippling damage. it was at this that the french admirals habitually aimed, and the dutch adopted this more timid method of accepting battle when, as on the present occasion, they felt overmatched. its advantage lay in this, that, if several of the van ships of the fleet acting on the offensive were severely damaged, the total injury done might be sufficient to deter the admiral in command from pressing his attack home. in later times, when english admirals had become pedantically devoted to the maintenance of an orderly and precise line, this conduct of the battle by the enemy to leeward did avail, never indeed to win a victory, but frequently to avert a defeat. as against the fiercer leadership of the seventeenth century it was not equally successful. on the nd of june the advancing english fleet forced the action early in the afternoon. the blue division, under the command of john lawson, was in the van, and appears to have struck upon the enemy's line in his van, under the command of michael de ruyter. the dutch, pursuing the evasive manner of fighting they had adopted from a sense of weakness, flinched from the attack, and filed away to leeward, firing high, to do the utmost possible amount of damage to the masts and spars of the english. tromp, indeed, bore up to support de ruyter, that is to say, lay close to the wind, so as to bring himself near the english fleets, and within the range of effective fire. while the blue division and a part only of the remainder of our fleet were engaged, a shift of the wind altered the relative positions of the two fleets. it turned to the east, and therefore gave the weather-gage to the dutch. the more distant centre and rear of the english fleet were thus thrown to leeward of the blue squadron, now closely engaged with the enemy. tromp, as ready to attack where he had a reasonable prospect of success, as he was skilful to retreat before a superior enemy, immediately assumed the offensive, and endeavoured to throw the whole weight of his fleet on the blue division. lawson met the attack firmly, while the red and white divisions worked to windward to his support. then the wind changed again, giving the weather-gage once more to the english. the fleets were now so close together that the dutch could not, even if they wished to do so, avoid a general action. they resumed their movement of retreat towards the coast of flanders, but they bore away almost yardarm to yardarm with the english. the battle did not cease until nine at night, when the long daylight of early june came to an end. if the claim made by the english officers was well founded, their enemy suffered the loss of several vessels burnt or sunk. on our side the loss of life was comparatively slight, but it included the general-at-sea, richard deane, who sailed in the =resolution= with his colleague monk. deane fell cut in two by a cannon shot in the first broadside fired by the dutch at the =resolution=. his blood was splashed all over monk, who saw the fall of his friend and colleague with his usual imperturbable serenity. fearing that the sight of deane's body, mangled almost beyond recognition, might dishearten the men, and perhaps moved by a sense of decency, monk took off his long cloak and threw it over the corpse. when night fell, both fleets were in sight of dunkirk. the dutch, taking advantage of the shallow draught of their ships, ran close in shore, where the deeper-keeled english vessels could not follow them. the sound of the cannon had been heard by the ships under blake's immediate command in the estuary of the thames. he was still ill, and found himself growing daily worse, but he made an effort to aid his brother generals-at-sea. on the morning of the rd he was clear of the thames, but the wind was very light, and the day was far advanced before he could reach the scene of battle. the want of wind had in the meantime suspended the action between the two fleets. it was not until the afternoon that monk, now in sole command, was again able to bring the dutch to battle. the second day's fight was less fiercely contested than the first. the dutch, convinced of their inferiority, fought in retreat along the coast of flanders, keeping as much as they could in the shallow water, and heading for the protection of their own harbours. blake came up in time to take part in the end of the battle, but he and monk were unable to prevent tromp from taking refuge in the weilings, the name we gave to the land-locked waters between the island of walcheren and the mainland. the actual loss of the dutch fleet was undoubtedly exaggerated in the english reports, but, although we over-estimated the number of vessels destroyed, there can be no doubt that the defeat of the dutch had been complete, and was of a kind to depress them greatly. it could not be accounted for by accident or mere mismanagement, but was manifestly due to the inferior quality of the fleet. this was fully recognised by the brave and able men in command of the dutch navy. tromp told the states general that they must build better ships if they hoped to fight the english successfully; while cornelius de with, always an outspoken man, declared that the english were masters of "us and of the sea." the approaching ruin of their commerce and fisheries broke the spirit of the united provinces. the loss already suffered had been enormous. thousands of merchants were bankrupt. the fisheries were annihilated, and the zuyder zee was crowded with merchant vessels unable to proceed on their voyage from fear of the english fleets. in the meantime the partisans of the house of orange were stirring. the oligarchical government established after the death of william ii. was threatened by a most dangerous rebellion. under pressure from abroad and at home, it appealed for peace. the protector insisted upon the full demands that had been made by the council of state. much as the dutch had suffered, they were not prepared to submit so fully as this, and the harsh insistence of england provoked a revival of national pride. declaring that it was better to die sword in hand than to submit to the outrageous demands made upon them, the states general resolved to attempt one last determined effort to regain the free use of the sea. every nerve was strained to equip a great fleet, and for the time all commerce was suspended, in order the better to fit out a fighting force. the english were no less resolute to maintain and, if possible, improve their advantages. the fleet was not brought back from the coast of holland, but remained for the purpose of blockading the dutch in their own ports. food and munitions of war were sent out from england to monk, who was again left in sole command by the illness of blake, whose strength broke down completely under the strain of active service. with penn as his second in command, and lawson as his third, monk was equal to his duties. he may not have been a seaman, though by this time he had been much at sea, but he was in the highest sense of the word a general, a fighter, who did his work thoroughly, used the force of his command to the utmost of its strength, and understood how to strike, with a great compact mass, at the heart of his enemy. towards the end of july he stood across the north sea for stores, and then returned at once to his cruising-ground off the texel, the island which prolongs the state of north holland, and between which and the mainland runs the chief passage to the zuyder zee. some thirty dutch warships belonging to the squadron of amsterdam were at anchor behind the protection of the land. tromp, with eighty sail, was at flushing, between walcheren and the mainland. the object of the dutch admiral was to unite these two divisions, and thereby raise his force to a slight superiority over the english. monk's aim was naturally to prevent the junction of the enemy, and, if possible, to crush his divisions in detail while they were endeavouring to unite. thus the last battle of the war was preceded by skilful manoeuvring. in the earlier movements success was fairly won for his flag by the nerve and skill of tromp. on the th of july some of his ships appeared to the south of the english fleet, then riding outside the texel. monk started in pursuit on the th, and soon sighted the enemy. the wind was at w., and it was too late for any extensive movement. on the th the dutch were still in sight to the south. as the english approached, they fell back. monk pressed on, with his lighter and better sailing ships in advance. these vessels, the frigates of his fleet, directed their attack on the rear of the dutch line. their better sailing powers enabled them to force on an engagement, and so compelled tromp to turn to the support of the vessels attacked. but it was too late on the th for a decisive engagement. at night both fleets anchored near camperdown. the english, who had in all probability aimed at getting the weather-gage, had apparently stood farther out than tromp, whose vessels were in any case better able to approach the shore. thus, when the fleets came to an anchor, the dutch were nearer in, and it would also seem that the english had somewhat overshot the enemy, for they anchored a little farther to the south. all through the night and the following day it blew a gale with heavy squalls from the w.n.w. the wind was so high that ships under way could scarcely bear their topsails, and, as they were on a lee shore, the fleets had enough to do to keep off it, without attacking one another. during the afternoon of the th the amsterdam squadron joined tromp, raising his force to something over a hundred and twenty vessels. so far he had effected his purpose, and had shown himself worthy of his great reputation as a skilful captain. on the morning of the st both fleets stood off the shore. the wind was still at w.n.w., and tromp had the weather-gage. the battle began very early in the morning, and surpassed any of the previous engagements of the war both in the fury of the contest and the decisive character of the results. monk was determined to bring the matter to an issue, and he did not wait for tromp to bear down upon him, but tacked upon his enemy, and broke through the dutch line from leeward. it was six o'clock in the morning when the battle began. both fleets were heading to the w.s.w., the english somewhat ahead, the dutch to the northward and windward. by tacking, monk altered the relative positions of the fleets from parallel to intersecting lines. the bulk of the dutch weathered the head of the english line, but their rear ships were cut off. we "went through their whole fleet," said captain cubitt, "leaving part on one side, and part on the other of us." tromp was resolved not to lose the weather-gage, and he also tacked when he saw monk's movement. so did monk when he had passed through the dutch line, and the manoeuvre was repeated three times by each. on the second tack, all the dutch appear to have weathered the english line. the two fleets passed very close, engaging with the utmost fury. from the heavy loss suffered in our ships, it may be concluded that in this battle the dutch fired less to dismast than to kill. six english captains were slain, one was mortally wounded, and the loss in the lower ranks must have been in proportion. it was counted one of the advantages of the windward position that it facilitated the despatch of fireships against the enemy to leeward. the dutch did not fail to use a weapon, so terrible in theory, and so dreadfully destructive when it took effect. experience, however, proved that as against well-handled ships under way, and under control of steady officers, it could rarely be employed successfully. the fireship could generally be avoided by moving vessels, and when that was difficult, or inconvenient to do, then it was taken in charge by the boats which the warship towed astern, and dragged away to leeward, where it burned out harmlessly. on this occasion little hurt was done by the "branders." we cannot suppose that the movement of tacking in succession was performed by two fleets, each of over a hundred sail, with absolute uniformity. on this occasion, as in the great battle of the th of april , when rodney pierced the french from leeward, the main line may have broken into smaller ones. but the general course of the battle was in three great zig-zags, ranging along the coast of holland, from near egmont towards the mouth of the maas, which are at a distance of about forty miles from one another. there was no shrinking on the part of the dutch, and no failure of effort on the part of the english to push the attack home. in many points of the line ships were locked together in desperate attempts to board, or repel boarders. by three in the afternoon victory belonged to the english. a large proportion of the dutch had been cut off from tromp, and had fallen to leeward. most of them were probably too damaged to be in case to do more than put before the wind, and escape as best they could. they fled into goree and the maas. the bulk of their fleet was debarred from that refuge by the english, who were still to leeward, and therefore on the line of retreat. it could only head northward and eastward to the texel. thither in the afternoon it fled, leaving behind miles of sea covered with the wreckage of the battle, and bearing with it the corpse of its great admiral, who fell by the death he had come to long for--shot mercifully dead by a musket bullet through the heart. he at least had nothing to reproach himself with. all that valour and skill could do to save holland, he did. if he failed, it was because the mistaken policy of the soldier princes of the house of nassau, and the unwisdom of the merchant oligarchy, had in false economy supplied him with inferior ships. an englishman does not undervalue the heroes of his own race, when he acknowledges that not only their valour but skill enabled them to overcome the most famous of the dutch seamen. we had no prizes, for we burned or sank the ships taken, and our own damage in the battle had not been small, but the victory was decisive. holland again sued for peace; and as cromwell had come to recognise that he must not insist on too much, it was finally signed some months later. while the main tide of war had been ebbing and flowing through the north sea and the channel, there had been minor conflicts at the entry to the baltic and the mediterranean. the first is of comparatively little importance in naval history, and is indeed hardly worth mentioning, except on the ground that it illustrates a chronic difficulty of the english government in all naval wars. we drew a great part of our stores from the baltic. pitch and tar, hemp for cordage, and pine wood for spars and planking, as well as part of the oak used in our ships, were supplied by scandinavia and russia. at a later period the american plantations entered into competition with the baltic trade, but in the middle of the seventeenth century these indispensable articles were obtained only in the north of europe. if they were cut off by the hostility of the northern powers, the task of fitting a fleet for sea was rendered almost impossible. the sense that they had it in their power to inflict so heavy a blow upon us, rendered the kingdoms of the north occasionally somewhat exacting. in the first dutch war, the king of denmark acted with open hostility to the commonwealth. he had strong political motives for remaining on good terms with the united provinces, and it is very possible that he shared the common incredulity of europe as to our power to overcome the first naval power in the world. if the dutch proved victorious, they would certainly be obliged to him for any harm he might have done us. acting under the influence of a desire to please the dutch, the king of denmark availed himself of a pretext to arrest an english convoy at elsinore in the autumn of . a squadron of eighteen ships was despatched under the command of captain ball to enforce their release. ball's force was scattered by a gale, and he was compelled to return without the convoy. a long and angry negotiation followed between the governments, but the danish king learned that it was more dangerous to offend england than holland, before we were compelled to teach him the lesson directly. the mediterranean was the scene of a very much more lively and varied fragment of the great war. it has been said above that when penn left the mediterranean at the beginning of he was replaced by captain richard badiley, who was despatched into those seas with a squadron appointed to protect the merchant ships against an attack by prince rupert and the french. the main centres of english trade in the mediterranean were the levant,--where the turkey company had factories at smyrna and scanderoon (alexandretta),--venice, and leghorn. when the dutch war broke out, there were six english warships in the mediterranean, stretching widely over it for the purpose of collecting merchant ships at their different ports of departure, and bringing them together into one convoy before passing the straits on the way home. badiley himself was at scanderoon with three ships. captain henry appleton was at leghorn with two. the sixth, the =constant warwick=, was at genoa, where she had been sent to careen, because she was very foul and eaten by worms. appleton had several english ships with him, and he would in the ordinary course of the service wait until he was joined by badiley before sailing for england. the outbreak of the war with holland entirely broke up the usual arrangement. the dutch were represented in the mediterranean by a force numerically stronger than ours, though the individual ships were smaller than our largest. this advantage they were certain to use for the destruction of our trade. the war began in june, and, as news travelled slowly then, was not known, even in italy, till the end of that month or the beginning of the next. the dutch ships in the western half of the mediterranean were collected in the neighbourhood of appleton, at leghorn. they were fourteen in number, and were under the command of an officer named catz. with such a disproportion of force against him, the english officer had no resource but to seek the protection of a neutral port. leghorn belonged to the grand duke of tuscany, and to him appleton appealed for protection. the grand duke was not very favourably inclined towards the english officer, who had cost him considerable annoyance by capturing a french vessel just outside his port and bringing her in as a prize. the position of a neutral in a great naval war is always more or less disagreeable. the combatants are generally either anxious to make use of its harbours as a refuge, or eager to follow up an enemy in its waters. the ingenuity of international lawyers has invented many pretty and plausible regulations for the guidance of all persons in such a case. but it is the misfortune of international law that nobody is bound to enforce its decrees unless he feels himself injured by the breach of them, while the party who really is injured, and therefore quotes them on his own behalf, is frequently the weaker, and so is unable to supply that sanction which is necessary for the validity of any law. between the stronger who wishes to crush the weaker, and the weaker who does not wish to be crushed, the neutral is often in a dilemma of great delicacy, since the weaker is often quite strong enough to be able to punish him for inability to enforce respect for his own neutrality. besides, it is particularly hard to judge from the local strength of belligerents which of them is likely to prove the more powerful on the whole. when, then, captain appleton brought the french prize into leghorn, he caused the grand duke very intelligible annoyance. the english might have the upper hand at sea, and yet the french might be quite powerful enough by land to pay themselves for what england had taken on the water, by pillaging the grand duchy of tuscany. a not dissimilar dilemma presented itself when appleton appealed to the protection of the port against the fourteen ships of catz. the grand duke could hardly tell which of the two was the most dangerous to offend. in spite of the offence given him by appleton, he endeavoured to hold the balance even between the quarrelsome sea powers. he promised the english that he would not allow the dutchmen to attack them if they came within the mole of leghorn. in regard to the waters beyond he could give no guarantee, since he had no naval force. to make assurance doubly sure, he allowed the english merchant ships to land their cargoes, and put them for safety in the lazaretto or quarantine house of leghorn. appleton might possibly have increased his force to a point which would have made it comparatively safe for him to give battle to the dutch, if the merchant ships in the harbour had been willing to help him. they all carried guns, and the crews of that time were comparatively large. the merchant captains displayed the cowardice of the mere trader. they refused to give appleton any help, alleging as their excuse that they had no orders from home to recognise his authority, and no security that they would be paid for any damage their vessels might suffer in action with the dutch. during all the summer and autumn of , appleton and charles longland, the agent of the commonwealth in florence, were engaged in fruitless efforts to recruit the strength of the squadron from the merchant ships at leghorn and venice. since there was no hope from this source, nothing remained but to wait for the arrival of badiley, in the hope that when all the six english warships were together, they might prove more capable of dealing with the enemy. it was a desperate chance, since all the probabilities were that badiley would sail into the middle of the dutch blockading ships. in order to reduce this danger as far as possible, appleton despatched captain owen cox with the =constant warwick= to meet the ships coming from the levant, and warn them of the danger. the usual course for an officer bringing a convoy from the levant would be to touch at zante, picking up other merchant ships, then to go on to messina and naples for the same purpose, to range the coast of italy as high as leghorn, and then sail for the straits, where he would pick up the spanish trade. the =constant warwick= found badiley at zante, the most southerly of the ionian islands, where he was waiting for ships still on their way from smyrna and cyprus. on receipt of the news of war and the danger of appleton, he came straight on, without making the usual stoppages at messina and naples. his energy did not avert disaster. the dutch blockading squadron had in the meantime passed from the command of catz to that of jan van galen, who came overland to supersede his predecessor. galen was sufficiently alert to make himself aware of the approach of badiley while the english ships were between the islands of elba and corsica. his own squadron had been so far reinforced that he was able to leave six ships to keep a watch on appleton, while he sailed with eleven for the purpose of attacking badiley. on the afternoon of the th of august, galen attacked the english convoy. it consisted of eight vessels in all, but of these only three were warships; the other five were merchant vessels, sufficiently well armed to be able to beat off a small privateer or algerine pirate, but hardly able to encounter a man-of-war of any size. yet the dutch were generally small; and as badiley's own ship, the =paragon=, was heavier than any of them, it may well be that if the turkey company's ships had shown a manlier spirit, they might have given a fairly good account of the enemy. as a matter of fact, not only the traders, but the two warships with badiley supported him either not at all, or very little. the encounter on the afternoon of the th was confined to distant cannonading, but next morning the dutch attacked with energy, and the =paragon= had to make a desperate fight for the protection of her convoy. the whole weight of the action fell upon her. she was greatly shattered in her rigging, and the loss in killed and wounded amounted to no less than eighty-one, a very large proportion of a crew of about three hundred men. in the meantime the merchant ships did very little, and the =paragon's= two consorts not very much. one of them did worse, for she fell into the hands of the enemy. this was the =phenix=, which was destined to be the cause of some exciting events further on. if captain badiley told the truth, she was lost by blundering management and the misconduct of her men. thirty of the crew got into the long-boat towing astern, and fled to the =paragon=, where they spread so violent a panic that captain badiley considered his own ship in danger of being lost. fortunately for him, it fell a dead calm, and when the wind rose he was able to carry the =paragon=, her one remaining consort, and the five merchant vessels into porto longone, at the south-east end of the island of elba. here the governor offered him protection, and even remained loyal to his promises, although offered a heavy bribe by the dutch if he would allow them to plunder the english vessels. but though badiley escaped destruction, both english squadrons were now blockaded. jan van galen was further reinforced, and was able to watch both appleton at leghorn and badiley at porto longone. the second of these officers had been appointed to the general command. in co-operation with charles longland, he kept making strenuous efforts, throughout the last months of this year and the early months of the next, to raise his own force so far that he could attack the dutch with some hope of success, or at least reunite the two squadrons. he failed to do either one or the other. he and longland were in want of money, the merchant captains were in want of courage, and the vigilance of the dutch kept the english apart and impotent. the watch on porto longone was not so close but that badiley was able to go to and fro between that port and leghorn. the =constant warwick=, too, re-entered leghorn, but no general movement was possible. so the year wore away. it was noted that when the news of blake's defeat off dungeness reached italy, the grand duke showed himself even less friendly than before. there were many royalist exiles at his court who spared no effort to injure the parliament's officers. dutch diplomacy was active, and an envoy from "the person called charles ii.," as captain badiley described his king, appeared in time to support their representations. in the meantime the english at leghorn were subject to a perpetual blistering irritation. the dutch brought the =phenix= into the roadstead, and began ostentatiously to fit her as a man-of-war. when she was ready, the command was given to cornelius van tromp, the son of the famous admiral. the sight of this vessel was an eyesore to the english, and in particular to captain owen cox, who had been transferred to the command of the =bonaventure= on the death of her captain, witheridge. cox began to plot schemes for retaking the =phenix=. appleton, who was afraid of offending the grand duke, was very angry with his subordinate's excess of zeal, and even went so far as to put him under arrest, but badiley restored him to his command. at the same time, he certainly gave his approval to schemes for retaking the prize. he justified this strong measure in the immediate neighbourhood of the grand duke's harbour by arguments which no doubt appeared convincing to himself, but are mainly remarkable for a rather childlike simplicity. "if two people," said captain badiley, "who are at enmity with one another, go into the house of a third on the promise that they will not make a disturbance, of course they ought to keep quiet, but if one of them filches the sword of the other, the gentleman robbed has surely a right to recover his stolen property. now the dutch have filched our ship the =phenix=, and so the grand duke cannot reasonably object if we take her back again." the english captains were not so convinced of the unanswerable character of their interpretation of international law as to present it for the grand duke's consideration before they took the =phenix=. the argument was pretty, but it was better to expound the law after the =phenix= had changed hands. they also decided that the more quietly the thing was done the better. according to their exposition of the practice of nations, it was quite legitimate to take an enemy in neutral waters, provided that the ship were taken in the small hours, and that no pistols were fired to disturb the slumbers of the citizens. the capture was effected in this way, but not until cornelius van tromp had given the english further intolerable provocation. about the middle of november he put to sea on a cruise, and returned a few days later with his prize. by way of insult and glorification over his enemy, cornelius van tromp had entered the roadstead trailing the english flag in the water under his stern. on the night of the th november he was punished for this piece of unmannerly brag. a cutting-out party was prepared in appleton's flagship, the =leopard=. it consisted of three boats. captain cox, who was very properly entrusted with the execution of his favourite enterprise, took the first, with fourteen men, lieutenant young of the =leopard= had the second, with thirty-three, and lieutenant lynn of the =bonaventure= the third, with the same number of men. the opportunity had been well chosen. it was st. andrew's eve, and the dutch were carousing. captain badiley was informed that in order to ingratiate themselves with the italians the dutch captains heard a sermon from a friar before dinner. he preached upon the text, "follow me, and i will make you fishers of men"; for which sin "nearly a hundred of their men were fished from them that night in the =phenix=." the boats lost one another in the dark after leaving the =leopard=, and it was not until "the appearing of the morning stars" that they were all alongside the prize. the capture was easily effected, for a large part of the dutch crew was drinking on shore, and the other was more or less drunk on the ship. young tromp was finishing a carouse in the cabin when the english broke in. he escaped capture by diving from the stern-port and swimming to another dutch ship, but, although he was very quick, he did not get off till one of the english sailors had given him a wipe with a cutlass, telling him that that was for trailing the english flag under his stern. from the moment he was in possession of the deck, captain cox cut cable and set sail. there was a good deal of scuffling and fighting between decks, in which lieutenant young was killed, but the english finally drove the dutch into the hold, and would have quelled the resistance much sooner if they had not fulfilled their obligations to the grand duke by rigidly abstaining from the use of firearms. several of the dutch ships pursued, but they might as well have spared themselves the trouble. the =phenix= easily out sailed them all, and captain cox carried her to naples. this incident filled the english both at leghorn and porto longone with high gratification, but it was the beginning of new sorrows. the grand duke at first laughed at the trick, but the outcries of the dutch forced him to take a more serious view of the outrage. an act of hasty ill-temper on the part of captain appleton gave him an excuse for putting the english captain into prison at pisa. later on, he handed him over to badiley at porto longone. the english endeavoured to propitiate the italian prince by the sentence of a court-martial which removed appleton from his command. his offence had been that he took a runaway prisoner out of the hands of the duke's sentry on the mole. but although the grand duke professed himself satisfied, and even asked that appleton might be restored to his command, he was plainly annoyed with the english, and probably very tired of the trouble they were causing him. the urgent appeals of longland and badiley for reinforcements from england could not be answered at the very height of the great war. the grand duke may perhaps have thought that it was better to make friends of the dutch. he began to press either for the surrender of the =phenix= by the english, or for their departure from his port. at last, in march , badiley decided to wait no longer. indeed the grand duke was showing a temper which made decisive action necessary. badiley therefore sent orders to appleton to get ready the two men-of-war, and the four merchant ships, lying within the mole, to meet him. the dutch had raised the blockade of porto longone, and were concentrated outside leghorn. the plan of the english commander was that he should appear off the port, and that so soon as he was known to be in the neighbourhood, captain appleton was to take the opportunity to slip out by night. badiley, in the course of a controversy which arose between the two, asserted that he gave strict orders to the effect that the ships within the mole were not to come out by day unless they saw him engaged with the dutch. he complained that the sloth of appleton and his captains spoiled this plan. they did not make the necessary exertions to come out of cover by night. then their rashness completed what their idleness had begun. they came out in broad daylight, when it was impossible to slip past the dutch unseen. these two errors were, according to badiley, the cause of the disaster which ensued. as the english ships came out with a leading wind, they had the dutch between them and the english ships which had come over from porto longone. it was the manifest interest of the enemy to attack the english in detail. badiley being at the greater distance and to leeward, they naturally attacked appleton. if they had followed the reverse course, they would have presented the english with an opportunity of concentrating upon them, since appleton would have had nothing to do but to run down from windward to the assistance of his colleague. the two men-of-war and four armed merchant ships which had come out from leghorn were easily overpowered by the dutch. badiley says he was unable to render appleton any effectual assistance, and the council of state seems to have thought that he was telling the truth. the =leopard= made a stout fight, but the other ships did not offer a prolonged resistance. after the capture of the ships at leghorn, there was nothing to detain badiley on the coast of northern italy, and he therefore betook himself first to naples, and then to the straits. he would, if he had had his own choice, have remained abroad to cruise, but his men were by this time sick of the service, and were clamouring to return home. he appears to have been afflicted by some very disorderly fellows in his ships' companies. it was in vain that captain badiley appealed to their patriotism, and threatened them with the terrors of no. in the parliament's recently issued articles of war. they answered persuasions and threats alike with cries of "home, home!" at last he sailed, and reached england unopposed. the riotous character of his men was not improved by the time they returned to chatham. their violence made the duty of paying them off very irksome to mr. commissioner pett, but he had his revenge; for no sooner were they paid off on their return from the straits than they were pressed again, and sent off to serve their country in the great decisive battles of the war in june and july. diplomatic difficulties arose between the government of england and the grand duke of tuscany in consequence of this episode of the war, but before this there had been a violent pamphlet controversy between the parties concerned. it was one of the earliest, though not the first, of the series of naval quarrels. appleton, considering he had been left in the lurch by badiley, openly accused his commander of treachery and cowardice, in a pamphlet dedicated to cromwell and supported by the testimony of his captains. badiley replied by a counter-pamphlet, retorting the charges of treachery and cowardice on appleton, and adorning his defence of himself by charges of incapacity, impiety, and immorality against his critics. both parties were very angry, very hot, and very abusive. they present the reader with the spectacle of heated seafaring men wrangling in an abusive manner, with much clumsy irony. on the whole, it does appear that if appleton had been more alert and intelligent, he might have given more effectual help to badiley. so cromwell apparently thought, for appleton was not employed again. yet both were so furious, loud-mouthed, and brutal, that it is impossible to accept either as a wholly trustworthy witness. chapter ix the protectorate authorities.--carlyle's _letters and speeches of cromwell_ will of course be consulted for this period. clarendon's intellectual greatness and his insight enable him to interpret the spirit of events even when he is wrong in his facts. cromwell's instructions to penn and venables, the letters of all the officers concerned, and the journals of the proceedings in san domingo, have been collected in the second volume of the life of penn. blake's operations in the mediterranean and the ocean are to be made out from the papers in thurloe, his own letters, and the narratives of the capture of the plate ships and the battle at santa cruz, published by order of cromwell's parliament. the government of oliver cromwell was that of a usurper and, in the strict sense of the word, a tyrant. he did not indeed use his power with wilful cruelty, but by the very nature of the case he ruled by the sword, and not by law. still, usurper and tyrant as he was, his aim was not the indulgence of any mere passion of his own. he was not only the greatest man of his time, and one of the greatest of all time, but he was thoroughly english in his wishes, his aims, and even prejudices. the desire to give the nation, in return for the subversion of its regular government, a compensation which would take the form of an extension of its national grandeur and the promotion of its interests, had possibly something to do in framing his foreign policy. yet there was a wide difference between the course he followed and that which commended itself, first to the jacobins, and then to napoleon. he did not plunge england into a succession of wars in pursuit of glory and an unattainable universal dominion, in order to divert it from discontent with his own rule. he aimed at the things which the great majority of englishmen, whether royalist or puritan, knew to be consistent with the true interests of england, and could approve. these were three. in the first place, he undertook to teach foreign nations once more that they must respect england--a lesson they had too much forgotten during the weak rule of the stuarts and the confusion of the civil war. the old rhyme has it, that "though his government did a tyrant's resemble, he made england great and her enemies tremble." in so far, he was doing what every royalist would have wished to see the king do. then oliver was resolved to obtain security for english commerce on the sea, and on that point there were no differences of opinion in the nation. finally, he designed to obtain for england that extension of her trade and that expansion of her colonial empire after which the ambition of the nation was already straining. the criticism that his schemes were too great for his resources is perhaps well founded. yet, had he lived to establish his government firmly, it is probable that he would not have asked the nation for more than it could easily give. the sums spent by his government on maritime expeditions were not greater than those pilfered and wasted during the reign of charles ii. but, however that may be, the fact remains that oliver first pointed out to england the course she was to follow in the eighteenth century; and if he was wrong in practice, it was because the principles of his foreign policy were in advance of their time. there were two ways by which the protector could carry out his policy--by alliance with spain or by alliance with france. the long war between these two nations was still in progress--with growing success and resources on the side of france, and daily increasing weakness on the side of spain. there were reasons which might seem to make it the protector's interest to ally himself with spain. the growing strength of france at her very doors was a menace to england. the weakness of spain would render her a dependent ally--that is to say, it would have that effect if spain were capable of being influenced by ordinary considerations of policy. then the close relationship between the families of stuart and bourbon must always give the french monarchy a leaning to the side of the opponents of the protector's government. but spain was not to be influenced in the way desired by england. before cromwell could undertake to help the spaniards against the french, there were two concessions he was bound to demand from them. the first was the exemption of englishmen from the jurisdiction of the inquisition. the second was the admission of english trade to the spanish possessions in the new world. pride and the blind obstinacy with which the spaniards, to their ruin, have always clung to their most extreme pretensions, made it impossible for the king and council of castile to yield what oliver demanded. it is a well-known story that when the protector made these two concessions the price of his alliance against france, the spanish ambassador, don alonso de cárdenas, answered, "my master has but two eyes, and you ask him for both of them." spain, in fact, would rather fight on in hopeless, contumacious obstinacy than yield up her right to protect the purity of her faith and her pretension to retain the monopoly of the new world. since, then, cromwell could not obtain his ends by treaty, he prepared to extort them from spain by force. he turned to the french alliance, and made ready for war. the attack on spain was to be conducted on three lines. one does not concern us, except in so far as it is necessary to remember that unless england had possessed a superiority of strength at sea, she could not have followed it. at a later period english troops were sent to co-operate in the conquest of the spanish netherlands. but before this, spain had been attacked on the sea. two expeditions were fitted out in england. the first, under the command of robert blake, was to sail for the mediterranean, and, after disposing of certain preliminary duties, was to attack spain at home. the second, under the combined commands of william penn as general-at-sea, and of robert venables as general of the land forces, was to fall upon the spaniards in the new world. this second expedition marks a notable epoch in our colonial history, and, at the cost of somewhat forestalling the order of time, may be told as an episode by itself. according to all modern notions, the policy of cromwell in fitting out this expedition was eminently immoral. a great fleet carrying a force of soldiers was sent out with orders to attack the spaniards before a declaration of war. but in the middle of the seventeenth century, and in the circumstances, there was nothing even irregular in what the protector did. it is necessary to understand in their main lines the relations of european states to spain in the new world, and to do that we must look back for a moment. at the close of the fifteenth century, the almost simultaneous voyages of columbus across the atlantic and of vasco da gama round the cape of good hope had appeared to give the crowns of spain and portugal the rights of previous discovery over the trade routes to the east. it must not be forgotten that columbus was believed to have reached the eastern extremity of asia. he himself died in the belief that this was what he had done. it was not until vasco nuñez de balboa had crossed the isthmus of darien, and magellan had sailed through the straits named after him, and had found a vast expanse of ocean between him and asia, that it came to be understood that there was a continent of america. in it was thought that asia had been reached, and it appeared not improbable that spain and portugal would come to blows over the limits of what we should now call their respective spheres of influence. the two states appealed to the pope, alexander vi., and he drew a line between them running from pole to pole miles to the west of the cape de verd islands. the decision of the arbitrator did not appear satisfactory to the portuguese, who would have been confined too closely to the coast of africa. they protested, and their protest was listened to by the catholic sovereigns, isabel of castile and ferdinand of aragon. in the year after the pope had given his decision, a conference was held at the town of tordesillas, and it was then settled that the line of demarcation should run leagues to the west of the azores and in the corresponding meridian on the other side of the globe. in the course of time, it was found that this decision had thrown by very much the greater part of the two american continents into the share of spain. other nations refused, indeed, to allow that the bull "inter cætera" gave spain any exclusive rights. but the spanish government was of another opinion. it abstained, indeed, from interfering with the english settlements in new england and the french in canada, which were poor and distant. its own weakness forced it so far to acquiesce in what it could not prevent, but it never recognised the legitimacy of foreign settlements; and whenever any of them approached those regions where the spanish rule was strong, they were liable to attack, even when peace prevailed in europe. the spaniards, in fact, recognised no peace beyond the line--that is to say, the line of demarcation from north to south, and not, as is sometimes supposed, the equator. hence there arose a permanent condition of lawless violence in the west indies. by far the greater part of the islands, composing the greater and the lesser antilles, were not occupied by the spaniards at all. european adventurers were not to be debarred from settling in unoccupied lands, by a mere decision of the pope which they did not recognise as valid. during the first half of the seventeenth century, english, french, and dutch had swarmed in to dispute these islands with the spaniard. the weakness of spain made it impossible for her to keep them out altogether. the early history of these settlements is obscure. one very curious colony, founded by a puritan company, of which pym was one of the directors, in the island of old providence on the coast of honduras, has left no trace except a few letter-books. barbadoes was peacefully occupied by englishmen, and became rapidly prosperous. other english adventurers, some of them holding patents from the king and others without, had settled in antigua, montserrat, nevis, and part of st. kitts. the other part of st. kitts was held by the french. the dutch also were in the west indies, less as settlers than as traders with the french and english. yet, though these settlements had increased and prospered, they were never quite safe from spanish attack. one great spanish armament, under don fadrique de toledo, had swept the west indies in ; other and minor attacks had been common. the settlement in old providence, after many alarms and adventures, had been finally exterminated at some time in the earlier stages of our civil war. it will be seen, then, that if the spaniards were assailed by cromwell without formal declaration of hostilities in the new world, the act was abundantly justified by spanish precedents. in the newly established government was being urgently pressed to send out just such an armament as was finally despatched. an englishman, of the name of thomas gage, the son of a family of english roman catholics and strong royalists, had published an exhortation to his countrymen to fall upon spanish america, and had revealed the real weakness of the land in a book called the _new survey of the west indies_, published in , and very popular in the seventeenth century. gage, who had been a priest, and who then became converted, and preached as a puritan divine in england, was one of the very few englishmen for whom it had been possible to visit the spanish possessions. at the same time, some at least among the planters of barbadoes were urging the english government to adopt an aggressive policy, and were promising effectual support. under the stimulus of all these motives, the protector's government organised this expedition in the summer and autumn of . it was to consist of warships, carrying guns and seamen. a land force of soldiers, divided into five regiments of each, was to be raised. the whole, when ready, was to sail for the west indies, and to begin hostilities with the spaniards from the day it crossed the tropic of cancer. the orders given to the expedition, as was commonly the case with the council of state and cromwell, were perfect examples of what such things should be--at once absolutely precise in prescribing the aim, and wisely large in defining the means to be adopted. "we shall not," said the protector, "tie you up to a method by any particular instructions." the generals, in fact, were deprived of every excuse for failure by being left free to choose the fittest means. as for the object of the cruise, on that point there was no doubt. they were to go over to the west indies, firstly, to chastise the french, who had been guilty of excesses against english trade; secondly, to enforce the navigation laws against the dutch, who had been carrying on an interloping commerce with the english islands; thirdly, and this was the main purpose of the armament, they were to effect a settlement among the spanish possessions. where it was to be made, they were themselves to judge on the spot, and according to circumstances. they might land on the islands, taking hispaniola by preference, or, failing that, st. john, that is, san juan de puerto rico. or, again, they might pass the islands and fall upon the mainland somewhere between the mouth of the orinoco and porto bello, that part of south america commonly called the spanish main. a third course was to attack both the islands and the mainland, but it was made abundantly clear that the hands of those who were to be responsible for doing the work were not to be tied by too precise instructions. this was as it should have been, but all was not equally well with the expedition. the leaders selected by cromwell did not do honour to his choice. venables, the commander of the troops, must have done something to make the protector think him fit for the place, but on this expedition he showed himself a feeble, pottering, uxorious man. he took his wife with him, and appears to have been miserable when separated from her company. penn was undoubtedly a brave and skilful seaman, but he wanted the intellectual resources and strength of character required to make good the deficiencies of his colleague. the weakness of the usurping government is revealed by the action which these two men, seemingly without any agreement with one another, took during the summer. they both wrote to the exiled king, offering him their services. at such a time, men who have not honour enough to stand aside from a usurping government, and who cannot serve it with enthusiasm, are very likely to be found looking over their shoulders for a safe retreat, and making friends with the enemy of the government of to-day, who may possibly be the ruler of to-morrow. penn and venables offered to bring the whole armament over to king charles if he could find a port for them abroad. the king, who was totally unable to comply with the condition, declined the offer. it throws an unpleasant light on the character of penn, that, immediately after he had been making this offer to betray the master who trusted in him, he was found appealing to the protector for a grant of land in ireland, which land, as a matter of fact, was the confiscated property of the supporters of the king. he and venables did not work harmoniously together. they had a squabble in england before they sailed, which was made up by the exertions of friends, but probably left them on not very confidential terms with one another. it was not only the inferiority of, and want of harmony between, the leaders which was likely to militate against the efficiency of the expedition. the victualling was ill done, probably because of the poverty of the government. a good part of the stores was not ready in time, and had to be sent on later. a large portion of the soldiers raised were of an inferior quality. cromwell could not spare the choice troops who were the support of his rule. the five regiments were specially raised for the service, and they consisted mainly of discharged soldiers of the king as well as of the parliament. these men had lost, or in many cases had never possessed, a true military character. the number of provided for by the scheme was never attained. the expedition did not carry more than men, of whom perhaps half were more likely to be a hindrance than a help where discipline was required. on the th of december rear-admiral dakins was sent on with fourteen ships in advance. the bulk of the expedition sailed on christmas day, which was probably chosen at least partly from a puritan desire to show disrespect for the feast. in mid-ocean the heavier ships, which hampered the speed of the fleet, were left behind. penn and venables pressed on with the better sailers. by the th january the whole armament was assembled in carlisle bay in barbadoes. the disappointments of the expedition began at once. it was found that those planters who had been urging the government to send a force into the west indies, and had promised effectual help, had spoken without authority. the planters of barbadoes were by no means generally pleased at the appearance of an expedition from england. the generals were authorised to raise a regiment in the island, and the planters were afraid that if the freemen enlisted in large numbers, their "servants" would revolt so soon as the armed force was gone. by servants must be understood both the black slaves and those white men, criminals and prisoners of war, who were bound to a term of service. much pressure had to be exercised before this opposition was overcome. it was at last surmounted, and the regiment was raised. in the meantime the news spread through the english islands. the swarm of loose adventurers who filled them, the runaway "servants," sailors who had deserted from their ships,--all the raw material, in fact, out of which the formidable buccaneering body called the "brethren of the coast" was afterwards formed,--began to collect in regiments, and were burning to take part in the service, which seemed to promise plunder. such men as these, the floating population of the frontier, valiant in pothouses, but feeble in battle, were of no real value for military purposes. yet they were accepted to the number of several thousands. the expedition had unfortunately been put under the command of a committee. in this cromwell followed the practice of the parliament, and was perhaps influenced by the fear of putting too much power into the hands of a single man. not only penn and venables, but goodson the vice-admiral, dakins the rear-admiral, two special commissioners, winslow and gregory butler, together with some others, were joined in the general command, and nothing was to be done without the consent of three of them. the opinion of the wiser few, who would willingly have dispensed with the riff-raff of the islands, was overborne, and the expedition was hampered by an ill-armed, worse-disciplined, and thoroughly untrustworthy mob. it is to be noted also that this distant and unhealthy service in the west indies was not popular with the sailors. while at carlisle bay, the sea officers came in a body to penn and represented to him their hope that the hardships of their service would be allowed for in their pay and prize-money. one good measure that had been decided upon in england was here perfected. a regiment of sailors was formed. it was put under the command of admiral goodson as colonel, with naval officers to lead the companies. two months were spent at barbadoes, which might have incomparably better been employed in assailing the spaniards before they were ready. at last, on the st of march, the expedition got under way. it proceeded by antigua, montserrat, nevis, and st. kitts to the south-eastern end of hispaniola, and appeared before the town of san domingo on the th of april. san domingo stands on the western side of a little river called the ozama. it is in the middle of a large bay, some twenty-eight miles broad and some ten miles deep. the coast is low, rocky, and beaten by a formidable surf. looked at from the sea, the spray thrown up from the waves was like the smoke of cannon fringing the beach. close to the town on the west side was a fort. to the west of the fort, and at a distance of some five miles from the town, another river, called by the spaniards jaina, and by us hina, falls into the sea. when there is a dead calm, or a land breeze from the north, it is possible to land here, but at other times the surf is too dangerous for boats. these conditions made it necessary to disembark the soldiers to westward and leeward of the town at some distance. in the west indies the trade wind, or true breeze, always blows from the east. beyond cape nisao, the western extremity of san domingo bay, there are a few landing-places in the surf-beaten coast. at one of these, perhaps catalina bay, venables disembarked with the bulk of the expedition on the th of april. in the meantime penn remained, with the greater part of the fleet and two regiments of soldiers, in front of san domingo. the object of retaining these two corps was to land them at the mouth of the jaina, to co-operate with venables when he had got so far. they had with them stores and scaling ladders for the purpose of attacking the town. the story of what came of these imposing preparations is happily all but unparalleled in english history. venables began his march on the day after landing, in circumstances of the most lamentable kind, if he is to be believed. "our men, the last fortnight at sea, had bad bread, and little of it or other victuals, notwithstanding general penn's order, so that they were very weak at landing; and some, instead of three days' provision at landing, had but one, with which they marched five days, and therefore fell to eat limes, oranges, lemons, &c., which put them into fluxes and fevers. of the former, i had my share for near a fortnight, with cruel gripings that i could scarce stand." in this dismal condition they struggled through the narrow paths which traversed the dense tropical forest, without meeting more than a very trifling resistance from the spaniards. by the th they had reached the jaina. here they remained until the th, engaged in what can only be called pottering. general venables came back to the flagship, partly for the purpose of taking "a vomit," and partly in search of his wife, who went with him when he returned to his post. every kind of difficulty as to provisions, scaling ladders, and powder united to hamper the attack on the spaniards. it does not appear that the men were absolutely destitute of courage. on the th a portion of them were roughly handled in an ambush, but they rallied well, and beat the enemy back. the hardships of the service, of which the most intolerable was thirst, did something to depress their spirits, but what worked upon them most was unquestionably the discovery that they were being led without energy or intelligence. first, the army advanced from the jaina to fort jerónimo. a vaunting attack, made without sufficient means, was followed by a retreat to the former position. when at last, on the th, the real attack was to be delivered, the troops, badly armed, badly disciplined, and mostly of bad quality to start with, were thoroughly ready for a panic. on wednesday the th the final attack on the fort jerónimo was to be made. the troops advanced and met at first with no opposition. they established themselves on the eastern side of the fort, where no guns were mounted. an advance guard, called in the language of the time a "forlorn," was to open the attack, supported by a party of "reformadoes"--that is to say, officers belonging to corps which had been suppressed or broken up and incorporated with others. behind them were the other regiments of the expedition. when the forlorn was close on the fort, and the attack just about to begin, a small body of spanish lancers, put by all the witnesses at some forty or fifty men, fell suddenly upon the english. their charge was directed against the forlorn, which fell suddenly and shamefully into disorder, and fled headlong back on the reformadoes. the reformadoes, whose part it was to have set an example to the army, were seized with a no less ignoble spasm of terror. the forlorn and the reformadoes, mingled in confusion, retreated upon the supporting regiments, which they infected with their own cowardice. the whole mass gave way in flight, and retreated in all the hubbub of an utter rout. some of the officers did indeed behave with the gallantry to be expected of english gentlemen. haynes, the major-general, the same officer who had co-operated with blake in the taking of the channel islands for the parliament, broke out of the mob of runaways, and, armed only with a small walking-sword, threw himself in the path of a handful of spanish lancers who were pressing the pursuit. he was accompanied by an ensign named blagg, who showed the colours in the vain hope of rallying some support. but the example of these brave men was lost on the terror-stricken rabble. haynes was borne to the ground and slain; blagg tore his colours from the staff, and, wrapping them round his body, fell down, and there died, pierced with many wounds. the completeness of their success appears to have taken the spaniards entirely by surprise. they were a mere handful, and, although they are said to have killed between three and four hundred, they were not supported, and were easily repulsed when some of the english were induced to make a stand. the corps to which belongs the honour of saving the expedition from extermination was the sailors' regiment commanded by admiral goodson. these men were no doubt veterans of the dutch war, who were hardened to perils. they let the cowards pass, and then closed up to cover their retreat. so soon as they were resolutely faced, the forty or fifty spanish lancers, who had hitherto "had the execution" of some thousands of englishmen, fell back. there were those among the english who believed that all was not lost, and that a second attempt might be made with a fair prospect of success. but the bulk of officers and men were completely cowed. they could think of nothing except of hurrying back with the utmost possible speed to the landing-place, and taking refuge in the ships. the officers would not trust themselves with such men, and indeed the spirit of the whole force was completely broken. while retreating during the night, they were terrified at the noise made by the land-crabs in the bush, and opened a wild fire right and left. while the army was making this deplorable exhibition of itself, the ships were parading to and fro in front of san domingo, engaging at odd moments in a languid artillery fire with the forts. penn declared that he could have easily destroyed fort jerónimo, and have swept the sea-wall of the town. he excused his failure to act, by saying that his colleagues would not agree. venables, in particular, was opposed to the destruction of jerónimo, on the ground that it would be useful as a hospital. it is not obvious, however, that penn need have been deterred by this from attacking the town. his conduct was certainly wanting in enterprise, and the difference between him and his colleague seems to be this, that whereas venables did wrong, penn did too little. having lost hundreds of men by the sword, and a still larger number by the tropical diseases which were now raging, the unlucky expedition cast about for some means of escaping the reproach of utter failure. some of the more poor-spirited among them were ready to return to barbadoes, and from thence to england. the majority, either because they possessed more courage, or because, however much they feared the enemy and the climate, they dreaded oliver cromwell still more, were resolved to make a last effort before returning empty-handed. a compensation which was easily to be secured lay ready to their hands. the island of jamaica is almost due west of the west end of the island of san domingo, at a distance of about a hundred miles. gage, the author of the _survey of the west indies_, was with venables, and he, with the english planters from barbadoes and st. kitts, could easily inform the generals that the island was almost uninhabited, and would be an easy prize. on the th of may, penn and venables left the bay of san domingo, and on the th appeared before the spanish town on the south side of jamaica. here, fortunately for them, perhaps, there was no opposition. the population, in fact, was very small, hardly able to beat off a considerable raid of pirates. the town was occupied after a mere show of resistance on the th, th, and th of may. the spanish governor made his submission at once. his countrymen, with greater spirit, deserted the town and took refuge in the hills. having now at last done something, the english leaders hastened to deprive themselves personally of all credit by deserting their command and running back to england. the early history of jamaica is a very painful one, and need not be told here. perhaps the moral of it all is best given by a witness who wrote after the restoration of charles ii. he reported that when the spaniards saw how fast the english died, they were surprised, but that, when they learned how much they drank, they were surprised that any of them lived. the military and naval leaders squabbled, and the soldiers and sailors fought. at last it was decided that penn should return to england with the bulk of the fleet, leaving goodson with twelve of the lighter vessels. he sailed on the th of june, returning home by the western end of cuba and the florida channel. one english vessel, the =discovery=, had been blown up by accident at jamaica. on the way another disaster occurred. the =paragon=, which had been badiley's ship in the mediterranean, caught fire and blew up, with the loss of a hundred lives. penn returned to england in a very intelligibly dismal state of mind. he was inclined to see the hand of the lord visiting the sins of the expedition, and something he referred to mysteriously as the "sin in england," on the men of little faith about him. he was also visibly nervous as to the reception it was likely he would meet with from the protector, and began garrulously excusing himself before he reached home. it was not without cause that he, and possibly his colleague venables, of whom we have less evidence, looked forward to facing oliver cromwell. the old explanation of the protector's anger, that he punished the generals for taking jamaica when they were ordered to take san domingo, was given in ignorance of their instructions; but he had good cause to be angry with them, both for the incapacity displayed at san domingo, and for their hasty desertion of their conquest of jamaica. as his spy service was both watchful and efficient, it is at least possible that cromwell had warning of their letters to the king. they reached england on the st august, anchoring at spithead. within a fortnight they were both in the tower, on the recommendation of the protector's council. they did not escape from this till they had made abject submission. penn retired to the estate which he had begged for himself out of the confiscated property of the king's friends in ireland, and was no more employed during oliver cromwell's life. goodson remained at jamaica for nearly two years, prosecuting the war with spain. the smallness of the force left under his command made it impossible for him to undertake operations on a great scale. in truth, what he did bore a very close resemblance to the piratical warfare afterwards carried on by the buccaneers. he sailed twice to the spanish main, burning and plundering small towns, taking water and provisions at unfortified places, but attempting nothing against the great port of carthagena. to some among the english officers at jamaica this method of conducting hostilities was not acceptable. they thought it piratical, and unworthy of a great state; but it was all goodson could do, and it served a useful purpose. the first two years of our establishment in jamaica were times of miserable weakness and suffering. the governors died one after the other, and the ranks of their followers were terribly thinned by fever. if during this interval a vigorous attack had been made by the spaniards, who were acclimatised and expert in bush fighting, it is not impossible that we should have lost the island. the presence of goodson's ships and his activity warded off this danger, and it is partly to him, therefore, that we must attribute the merit of retaining this colonial possession. before the fleet under penn left to undergo its varied fortunes in the west indies, another naval armament had sailed from england under the command of robert blake. it started somewhat earlier than the expedition directed against the west indies--on the th september. blake's orders were ultimately to attack the spaniards, but the time for hostilities against them in europe had not yet come. in the interval there was plenty for an english admiral to do in the mediterranean. in the first place, he had, in the modern phrase, "to show the flag"--that is to say, to let foreign nations see that england was mistress of a naval force capable of extorting respect. then the protector had inherited from the council of state a number of diplomatic disputes with the italian princes. the presence of a powerful english fleet in the mediterranean was likely to add material weight to the expostulations of his diplomatists. blake worked his way slowly along the spanish and italian coasts of the mediterranean, and was everywhere treated with deference. there is a story that at malaga he gave the spaniards a proof that the ruler of england did not bear the sword in vain for the defence of his subjects. it is said that an english sailor who was on shore on leave displayed his puritan sentiments by insulting the host. for this he was maltreated by the mob, on the instigation of a friar. blake, so the story goes, insisted on the punishment of the ecclesiastic, and was told by the governor that he had no power to punish churchmen, which, if it was ever said, was untrue. upon this, the english admiral threatened to open fire unless the friar was given up to him. his threat and the ocular demonstration they had of his strength brought the spanish authorities to reason. the friar was sent on board, presumably expecting and, if he was a fanatic, hoping for martyrdom. blake, however, confined himself to rebuking the over-zealous friar, and declaring that he would make the english name as much respected as ever was that of a roman citizen. there is nothing improbable in the story, which, however, rests solely on the authority of bishop burnet. whatever may be the accuracy of this anecdote, it is beyond question that blake's mission was to make the name of englishmen respected in the mediterranean, and that it was fulfilled. the italian princes found that delay would no longer be tolerated. their disputes with the english government were wound up. a naval power is not limited in its influence, as the strongest of merely military powers must needs be. the states around the mediterranean might have despised the menace of the new model army, which was no doubt capable of marching all through italy, if only it could have got so far; but a fleet can make the power of the state felt wherever ships can go. cromwell's menaces were formidable to the very extremities of the mediterranean. in that sea there was one duty to be discharged which the english navy had been forced to neglect for too long. the pirates of the barbary states had long been a pest and a menace to the commerce of europe, and even to the coasts of christian states. within the mediterranean nobody had yet seriously undertaken to break their power. it is true that they no longer operated in great fleets, as they had done in the days of barbarossa. the age of the pirate admirals had been succeeded by that of the raises, or pirate captains, but they were still formidable to commerce, if they attempted no longer to capture towns and conquer territory. the growing english trade in the mediterranean suffered from them severely. when the church of england included a prayer for prisoners and captives in her litany, the words had a significance they no longer bear. in the ridiculously feeble effort already recorded, to check this disgraceful infliction, had been made with no better result than to convince these mohammedan sea rovers that england was not formidable. it was necessary to bring them to a sounder view of the facts, and this was one part of the task entrusted to blake. after passing along the coasts of spain and italy, blake went on to discharge this part of his duties. he first sailed over to algiers in march and opened negotiations. it was his purpose to secure his object--the release of english captives and some security for the exemption of english ships from capture in future--without fighting, if possible. the barbary states were still nominally part of the dominions of the sultan, and there was always a chance that severe measures taken at their expense might provoke retaliation on the servants and property of the levant company at smyrna and scanderoon. at algiers, then, blake attempted peaceful negotiations with the dey, and even exerted himself on his behalf with the grand master of the knights of st. john. the dey was obstinate, or, as he habitually lived in terror of the piratical portion of his subjects, it would perhaps be more accurate to say that he did not dare to make such an arrangement as blake demanded. still the english admiral held his hand. before taking hostile measures at algiers, he decided to pay a visit to the less formidable piratical town of tunis. the dey of this other town of plunderers was not less unreasonable, and by this time blake's patience was exhausted. after returning for a few days to trapani in sicily, he came back and fell upon the pirate ships. tunis was strong, and the dey believed it to be unattackable. it lies at the very bottom of the deep gulf between cape farina and cape bon. the approach was protected by the forts of farina and goletta, famous in the wars of charles v. and philip ii. the pirate galleys had been hauled under the guns of these fortifications, and their owners might with some show of reason believe them safe, but they had never yet been attacked in the style adopted by blake. on the th of april (just one month, be it noted for purposes of comparison, before penn and venables sailed away from san domingo shamefully beaten) the english admiral stood in and opened fire on the tunisian ships. the forts proved very ineffectual, and the fire of the vessels was soon silenced. then the english took to their boats and boarded. they were quickly masters of the prizes, and lost no time in burning them. from tunis blake went first to tripoli, and then came back to algiers. in these places satisfactory arrangements were at last made. the orientals had, in fact, discovered that the moderation of the english admiral was not due to fear or weakness, and they at once bowed to force. blake's conduct was approved by cromwell, and he was now free to proceed to the execution of the last part of his duty. the alliance with france was in the meantime maturing. there was no longer any reason for delaying an open declaration of hostilities against spain. on the contrary, as penn and venables had had time to develop their attack on the west indies, it was very desirable that the spaniards should be prevented from sending reinforcements, and this could be most effectually done by compelling them to stand on guard at home. blake was therefore ordered to cruise off cadiz, for the double purpose of intercepting the treasure-ships on their way back from america and of preventing the despatch of a spanish squadron to the west indies. the blockade was so far successful that the spaniards were paralysed, but no prizes were taken, and by the approach of autumn the english ships were severely strained. in october blake returned to england. the war with spain had not as yet been prosecuted with very triumphant success. the failure at san domingo was a huge disgrace, hardly balanced in the opinion of the world by the capture of jamaica. the successful blockade of cadiz, though it must have caused great loss to the enemy, had not produced those visible results in the way of prizes and bullion which the nation could understand. but cromwell was resolved to persevere. in blake returned to the coast of spain. on this cruise he was accompanied by edward montagu, afterwards the first earl of sandwich, and their object was again to capture the much-desired plate fleet. this year they had a better chance of success. in the spanish government had stopped the vessels, but it was now in such dire need of money that it was compelled to run the risk of bringing them home. in summer a first detachment reached the neighbourhood of cadiz, only to fall into the hands of the english blockading fleet. blake and montagu were not present at the capture, for they had retired to the friendly ports of portugal to refit, but a squadron had been left to watch the port, under the command of richard stayner. it proved amply sufficient for the work to be done. the spanish treasure-ships, though of great bulk for the time, were intrinsically very feeble, and their decks were hampered by merchandise. stayner burned or captured nearly the whole, with a very trifling loss to himself. the bullion and goods taken amounted in value to nearly the revenue of england for a year--to over two millions sterling. montagu returned to england with the booty, taking stayner with him. although the great sugar-loaves of silver were pillaged by the sailors, there was enough left to load thirty waggons, which were driven through london to the tower, to the general gratification of the protector's subjects. blake in the meanwhile remained outside of cadiz during the autumn and winter, till the spring of , waiting for the next instalment of the plate fleet. it was an unheard-of thing at that time to keep a fleet out for the winter. even now the heavier vessels had been sent home with montagu and stayner, but the persistence of the others in remaining abroad shows that our navy was increasing in seaworthiness and hardihood. in the april of blake was rewarded for his perseverance by learning that a large spanish squadron carrying treasure had taken refuge at santa cruz de tenerife. to attack them in this port was in the general opinion an enterprise of the utmost hazard. the bay of santa cruz is deep and the island hilly, therefore the harbour is perpetually liable either to be in a dead calm, or to be swept by the violent gusts of wind off the land. these natural obstacles made entrance difficult for a fleet. and santa cruz was in addition very powerfully fortified. so strong, in fact, had art and nature made the harbour, that the spaniards considered a successful attack impossible, and blake's contemporaries looked upon his triumph as an unheard-of achievement of daring. yet the commonwealth admiral, like so many other men of strong mind, showed his strength by despising the vain appearance of force. he estimated the inefficiency of the spaniards at its true value. moreover, he saw that the forts, if attacked closely, would probably fail to stop the entry of a fleet running before a good breeze and borne on a rising tide. once in the harbour, and in the midst of the spanish vessels, he would be comparatively safe, since they would mask the fire of the guns on shore. with the turn of the tide, aided, as it was very likely to be, by one of the common winds off the land, he would be able to secure his retreat. no doubt there was an appreciable risk, as there always must be in the serious operations of war. but it was one a bold man commanding an effective fighting force could run without temerity. the attack was made on the th of april, in the early hours of the morning. the fleet had sighted the harbour by daybreak, and the look-out frigates had reported that the spanish ships were still in the bay. the decision to attack was taken at once, and the english fleet stood in. the result fully justified the calculations we may suppose blake to have made. the english ships ran past the forts with little or no damage. they were in the midst of the spanish ships and in hot action by eight o'clock. the spanish galleons were as ill fitted for war as the vessels taken outside of cadiz. though the english remained in the bay while daylight lasted, they lost only killed and wounded, while none of the ships received more damage than could be made good at sea in a few days' work. the fate of the spaniards was very different. by seven in the evening they were all sunk, driven on shore, or set on fire. when the work was thoroughly done, the english prepared to drift out on the ebb-tide. by this time daylight must have been over, and in the dusk and following darkness they would probably in any case have passed the forts with very little injury. but by one of those strokes of good fortune which commonly come to the help of a bold and skilfully conducted enterprise, the wind arose from the south-west, and they regained the sea swiftly, with no further injury. the attack on the spaniards at santa cruz de tenerife was not only the most brilliant achievement of the navy during cromwell's government, but it was by far the finest single feat performed in the seventeenth century, and, though it has been equalled, it has never been greatly surpassed in later times. even nelson's attack on copenhagen was not more intrepid. the delight felt by all englishmen, without distinction of party, was unbounded. cromwell sent blake a "jewel" consisting of his portrait set in gold and diamonds, and the royal historian clarendon has praised him without stint or qualification. blake, indeed, deserved alike the jewel and the praise. nothing quite of the same stamp as the attack on santa cruz had ever been done before, except his own bombardment of the forts of the dey of tunis. the captures of the puntal castle at cadiz by the earl of essex in , and then by his son in , were small in comparison. in the elizabethan time, ships had either shrunk from attacking forts, or, as in the case of drake's attack on san juan de puerto rico, had been beaten off. at the ile de rhé, our ships had shown no inclination to tackle the french fortifications. it is to blake, as clarendon justly pointed out, that the credit belongs of first showing what a fleet could do. but for blake, his work was over. the destruction of the west india fleet had completed the task he was sent to do on the coast of spain. he was therefore ordered to return home, but he never lived to reach his native country. he died, as it would seem, of scurvy, on board his flagship, the =george=, at the mouth of plymouth sound, on the th of august . he was buried with his old fellow-admiral and general-at-sea, richard deane, in henry the seventh's chapel, whence their bodies were taken with those of other puritan leaders, at the restoration, and thrown into a pit on the north side of the abbey. during the brief remainder of cromwell's life, the navy had little to do except to assist the troops which were co-operating with turenne in the siege of dunkirk. with the death of the protector the whole foundation of his government was removed. it was based on his personal ascendency, and was supported by his immense superiority of faculty to all enemies. englishmen submitted to it because the alternative was anarchy. when oliver died, the anarchy which he had warded off came swiftly upon the nation. between the end of and the beginning of power was snatched from one feeble hand by another, till at last monk, at the head of the army in scotland, imposed himself on all rivals. by this time the vast majority of englishmen had come to the conclusion that their one means of escape from a succession of mere military tyrannies lay in the restoration of the ancient monarchy. happily for england, no man saw that truth more clearly than monk, and under his sagacious, phlegmatic guidance the restoration of the monarchy was effected in the may of . a historian of the navy is strongly tempted to endeavour to prove that it helped materially towards attaining this result. i can, however, see no evidence that this was the case. a navy, though powerful to ward off foreign intervention in our affairs, was very little able to influence the nation. it could only apply pressure by intercepting trade and cruising outside ports,--in other words, by condemning itself to the hardships and tedium of blockade, and that, too, in circumstances which made effective blockade impossible, since the fleet could not draw supplies from abroad, and could only get them at home by the goodwill of their countrymen. the utter failure of the royalist revolt in the fleet in even to check the triumph of the independents is an example of the happy incapacity of a navy to take an influential part in civil strife. throughout the war the navy had followed, not led, and this was its part during the fourteen months of confusion which intervened between the fall of the protectorate and the restoration of king charles. chapter x the navy under charles ii authorities.--the duke of york's "general instructions" and "orders," together with the "oeconomy of the navy office," give us the form and theory of the government of the navy. the inestimable pepys gives the spirit and the manner of the execution. the calendars of state papers supply the orders to officers abroad, and their reports. clarendon's memoirs of his own administration tell the history of the outbreak of the war from the english side, while m. pontalis sums up the dutch story with all the lucidity, thoroughness, and criticism of the modern french historical school. three reigns of english kings stand out as of exceptional interest in the history of the royal navy. king john's, for in it we first find a fixed sea force, and the intelligent use of the power it supplies. king henry viii. comes next, and to him belongs the credit of framing a regular administration. in the reign of charles ii. the work of his predecessors was completed. the government, or, to employ the phrase of the time, the "oeconomy," of the navy was finally established as it was destined to remain. succeeding rulers might have to fill up and perfect, but, except in details, the navy became, under this king, what it was destined to continue to be through a century and a half of war and glory. the defects of charles's character have, perhaps justly, made posterity somewhat unfair to him. he took the base view of his office, that it was an estate to be enjoyed. there is an almost touching candour in his complaint to clarendon that his subjects spoke evilly of barbara palmer and her like, instead of imitating the french, who had a becoming respect for the ladies whom the king delighted to honour. to charles it appeared to be a truth so manifest as to require no demonstration that his kingdom was given him for his pleasure, and that his subjects were to be expected to revere his amusements. in so far charles set a ruinous example, for his servants regarded their offices as he did his crown. yet the king was intelligent, knew what ought to be done, was willing to give orders that it should be done, and to approve of those who worked well for him. his fatal defect was that he could never make that sacrifice of his ease which was necessary if he was really to govern. therefore, though many excellent measures had his approval, they were commonly carried out detestably. the main instrument of king charles's government of his navy was his brother james, duke of york, who shared his own character, though with a much duller intelligence and a far less genial disposition. the duke had been destined for the office of lord high admiral from his boyhood. during the exile of the royal house he had for a time made way for prince rupert, but he came into his inheritance with the restoration. acting with the approval and support of the king, the duke did a great work for the navy. the whole code by which it was administered on shore, or sailed and fought at sea, during succeeding generations, was outlined by the various orders of the duke of york. to a great extent, no doubt, the merits of the king and his brother may be said to have been forced upon them. the time was past when the navy could be treated as a mere collection of ships which might for the most part lie idle, save in war, or when in peace a minute winter and summer guard divided its time between escorting ambassadors, and giving a languid chase to pirates on the coasts of great britain. the growth of commerce, and still more the increased expectation on the part of subjects that they were to be continually protected in their commerce, made the maintenance of a permanent force on a large scale necessary. the long parliament and cromwell had accustomed the country to ten times more than it had ever received from james i. or charles i. the restored monarchy could not safely do much less. with the necessity for a permanent force came the need for a regular corps of sea officers, and a great development in the dockyards. but it does not detract from the credit due to the king and his brother that they did what was necessary. on the contrary, it is their highest praise. they could not possibly have had the kind of glory which belongs to louis xiv. and colbert. a french ruler and his minister might create a navy for a definite political purpose, where none existed, and where none would ever have come into being without their fostering. the english navy had grown out of the needs and with the strength of the nation. it needed only to be shaped, not built up from the foundations. in another respect the reign of charles is an epoch in naval history. the royalists might endeavour to restore the ancient framework of government, and in show they had a great measure of success. but the monarchy which came back with charles ii. was a very different thing from the monarchy which perished with charles i. it had not the same sanctity. the royalists might read filmer, and preach passive obedience, and talk of divine right, but their professions were at the outside the rhetoric of a party. in parliament they themselves were far from disposed to approach the king with the humble deference their fathers had shown to elizabeth, and even james. they were resolved to intermeddle, to control, to have a direct influence on the administration. they spoke out bold and sharp when they were angry. parliament, in fact, would not pay the doctrine, that it was a merely consultative body, the honour of refutation by argument. however the high royalist party might talk, the peers or the commons brushed all theories summarily aside in moments of passion, and insisted on making their real power felt in the direct control of the administration. when the duke of york hoisted his flag as lord high admiral at schevening in , and escorted his brother back, the materials forming the navy of england were in existence. there were the ships, the dockyards on the river and at portsmouth, and there were the officers and crews, and a staff of workmen. what remained to be done was to establish a permanent code of regulations, and to organise a regular corps of sea officers. this second part of the duke's duty was encumbered by a difficulty arising out of the civil war. the whole body of the men in command of the ships had been the servants of oliver cromwell. the lower ranks of officers were particularly suspected of dangerous principles. yet the monarchy could not afford to dispense with these men altogether. the few seamen who had followed the fortunes of the king and prince rupert were not numerous enough to supply the staff of a great fleet, while many of them had lost their experience, and had been injured in character by the debauchery which had been one of the main resources of the exiles in idleness. the crown, therefore, was compelled to overlook the antecedents of the existing body of admirals and captains, and to pick out from them those who were the least likely to prove "factious." not a few of these men had given serious guarantees to the crown. penn had offered his services before sailing to jamaica in . montagu and lawson had taken an active share in the restoration of the king. we may credit them with an honest conversion to the belief that the choice for england lay between anarchy and the house of stuart. we know from pepys that montagu can have had little of what the cavalier understood by loyalty. he told his humble kinsman, during the period of confusion which preceded the conference at breda, that the king would probably be restored, but that unless he minded his manners he would not last long. this was not the spirit of sir john berkeley or lord byron. but it may be taken to represent pretty fairly the view of the average sensible man, in whom whatever religious and political opinions he might have were modified by a regard for his own interest. with few exceptions, the leaders of the fleet were quite as ready as montagu to serve the king. a few were set aside as too puritan to be trustworthy, and among them was goodson, who had done such honourable service in the conquest of jamaica. a selection was made among the others of men who might be relied on, and they were bound to the king's service by a retaining fee. these men were, properly speaking, the beginnings of the corps of naval officers. they formed a service permanently employed by the king, and had recognised rights to continue in pay, not only when actually at sea, but when on shore. the growth of the navy, and the certainty that in future a large permanent force would be required, must of themselves have convinced the king and his brother of the necessity for providing some way of recruiting this body by trustworthy men as vacancies occurred. it was no longer possible to wait until war arose, and then provide for the command of ships by appointing gentlemen and merchant skippers. the way in which the necessary means were provided is eminently characteristic of that practical use of expedients by which almost every part of our administration has been built up. when a similar necessity was seen by louis xiv. and his minister colbert, they met it by establishing the corps known in the french navy as the gardes de la marine--young gentlemen who were to be educated in a school set aside for the purpose. the duke of york took a very different course, described by himself in a letter to sir richard stayner. "sir richard stayner,--his royal highness being desirous to give encouragement to such young gentlemen as are willing to apply themselves to the learning of navigation, and fitting themselves to the service of the sea, hath determined, that one volunteer shall be entered on every ship now going forth; and for his encouragement, that he shall have the pay of a midshipman, and one midshipman less be borne on the ship: in prosecution of this resolution, i am to recommend to you the bearer mr. tho. darcy; and to desire you that you would receive him according to the intentions of his royal highness, as i have acquainted you; and that you would shew him such kindness, as you shall judge fit for a gentleman, both in the accommodating him in your ship, and in farthering his improvement.--i am, your affectionate friend, w. coventry. _may , ._" mr. thomas darcy was, in the modern sense of the word, the first midshipman in the english navy. the title had hitherto been given to a petty officer serving under the boatswain, and it even continued to be used in that sense for some time. by the duke's own orders, nobody was to be rated a midshipman who had not served seven years at sea. there does not seem to have been any intention that the young gentlemen who were sent in the squadron with stayner to apply themselves to the learning of navigation, and fit themselves to the service of the sea, were to be known by the name. it was purely by use and wont that midshipmen came to be the title of the young gentlemen who were in training to make officers, and ceased to be applied as had heretofore been the case. this appointment completed the foundation of the corps of naval officers. young gentlemen sent on board ship in this way were known as king's letter boys, and it was understood that they were qualifying for the rank of lieutenant, though they never were allowed to possess the right to demand it. when this modest little expedient is compared with the imposing establishment of the french king, it looks humble enough, yet it may, when judged by the results, well be considered the wiser method of the two. the french naval officers of the end of the seventeenth and the whole of the eighteenth century were more book-learned than ours, more cultivated men, much more addicted to the scientific side of their profession and to writing books, but they were far less efficient as practical seamen. moreover, they formed a close corporation which had a strong moral if not legal claim to the exclusive right to command the king's ships. such a body was very jealous, and even very selfish. it was capable of sacrificing the interests of the country to the protection of its own privileges. on the other hand, the english naval officer was commonly, in the ordinary sense of the word, ignorant, but he was thoroughly broken to the sea life, and, if he did not write about his business, he knew it. moreover, lads who were sent into a ship simply to learn, and had no claim to promotion as a matter of right, were not likely to grow up with the exclusive class jealousy of the french officer. it must be remembered that the king's letter boy only differed from other boys in the manner of his entry into the ship, and because he was to be treated on the footing of a gentleman. his right to be promoted depended, not on his king's letter, but on the amount of his service and on his capacity to prove himself fit for promotion. any other member of the crew who had done the service and possessed the necessary qualifications was equally capable of receiving the king's commission. in practice, no doubt, the lad who had sufficient interest to obtain the king's letter was more likely to have the interest to secure promotion than another. in practice, too, the service needed to qualify for the rank of lieutenant was sometimes given more in show than reality. the corruption and favouritism of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries allowed of many abuses. one of these was the habit of permitting the names of lads to be borne on ships' books while they themselves were at school or in the nursery; but this is only one of the innumerable instances in which fact and theory failed to square, and, however ill the original scheme was carried out, the intention of the duke of york was secured in essentials. it came to be understood that nobody could be an officer in the english navy who had not served an apprenticeship in a king's ship, and that, when once an officer, he was regularly in the service of the king. no doubt this could not be done at once. during early years, and before a sufficient number of apprentices had been trained, it was necessary to continue the old practice of appointing men from the outside. here, as is so often the case, the old overlapped the new, but the foundations had been laid, and it is perfectly accurate to say that the british naval officer, in the modern sense of the word, dates from the reign of charles ii. there was nothing accidental in the decision of the duke of york. we know again from pepys, that in the early days of the duke's administration there was much talk of breeding men to the sea, and making the sea service as honourable as the land. the appointment of darcy was undoubtedly decided on with this very intention, and the subsequent history of the royal navy may be held to show that the duke builded better than he knew. it was long before his work was complete. half-pay, that is, payment when not on active service, was first given in to a limited number of flag-officers. other ranks only got it by degrees. but the principle was established. when once a king's officer was in the king's service for life, it followed that he had a claim to support when not employed. before the reign of charles ii. no such right had been recognised, therefore there was then no regular service. another change, which had become a sheer matter of necessity, was the establishment of a permanent code of discipline. hitherto each admiral, on being appointed to his office, had issued his own set of regulations. by use and wont there had arisen what was called "the custom of the sea." what remained to be done was to give expression to this custom, with the needful improvements and developments, in a statute, if that name can be applied to a set of orders promulgated by an administrative and not a legislative authority. mention has been already made of "the laws of war and ordinances of the sea, ordered and established by the parliament of the commonwealth of england" in . this may, in a way, be said to be the first rough draft of the queen's regulations and admiralty's instructions. oddly enough, the code is in thirty-nine articles, a number which one would think a puritan parliament would be likely to avoid. a great part of it deals less with discipline and the duties of officers and men than with exhortations to fight well and prohibitions against holding relations with the enemy, or with "malignants." it is, however, explicit on two points: first, on the course to be taken with prizes, and then on the duties of captains engaged in convoying merchant ships. the prizes are not to be pillaged, and the captains engaged on convoy duty are ordered to protect the merchant ships, and to abstain from making profits for themselves. valour against the enemy and obedience to command are enforced in repeated clauses, and the majority of them end with this formula, or some variation of it: "upon pain of death or such other punishment as the offence may deserve." when the duke of york drafted his own orders for the general maintenance of discipline, he no doubt had the parliament's laws and ordinances before him. some of its phrases were adopted, and one of them continued in use into this century--that, namely, which forbids unlawful and rash oaths, cursings, execrations, drunkenness, uncleanness, and other scandalous acts in derogation of god's honour and corruption of good manners. but there was much in the document drawn up by the parliament which would have been out of place in the duke's instructions. moreover, it was so much more a general exhortation to good discipline and hard fighting than a body of regulations, that the larger part of it was dropped. the duke of york himself issued two sets of orders, which were meant to go together and complete one another. the first contains the "general instructions" addressed to each captain, and consists of forty-four articles. the second is headed, "orders established for the well governing of his majesty's ships, and preservation of good order among the respective commanders, officers, and seamen serving his majesty in the same." the general instructions are calculated to produce a somewhat unfavourable impression of the moral qualities both of the ships' companies and the workmen in the dockyard. from first to last the captain is instructed to be constantly on watch against those who will defraud the king if they can, and is threatened with dire consequences if he is himself guilty of fraud. the forty-third article addresses him in language which would be considered now highly insulting to any gentleman. he is told that when his ship is paid off, he shall not have any part of his pay till the principal officers of the navy are persuaded of his honesty; and there is a rider to the effect that if his misdeeds escaped detection at the time, and were afterwards discovered, the duke will take care that he is duly punished. to judge from these instructions, what the government was chiefly anxious to secure in the case of a captain was, that he would go early to his ship, leave her as little as possible, and be vigilant in putting a stop to that practice of defrauding the king which "has become a frequent (though insufferable) abuse." there is something almost pathetic in the indignant "though insufferable" which breaks into the wording of this clause. other articles throw a light on the discipline and organisation of the time. thus, article xv. orders the captain to rate no man a.b. until he has had five years' sea service, and no man a midshipman who has not had seven, and is able to navigate, except by special orders. the exception provides for the case of mr. thomas darcy and others. by article xxii. he is ordered to demand the salute within the four seas, and under no condition to give a salute anywhere unless he is sure it will be returned. article xxxix. is particularly valuable, because it tells us what was then considered the training required to form a seaman gunner. the captain is told to take care "that for the first month the men be exercised twice a week, to the end that they may become good firemen, allowing six shots for every exercising. that the second month they be exercised once every week, and after that only once in two months, allowing six shots to every exercising." this does not necessarily mean that the men were not exercised at the guns except when they were firing at the target. by article xl. we learn that there were many complaints that captains carry merchandise. this they were forbidden to do, unless it be "gold, silver, or jewels." a great deal is heard of this complaint and this regulation during the reign of charles and his brother. there will be occasion to come back to it, for the purpose of showing how ill and how little it was obeyed. "the orders established for the well governing of his majesty's ships" are but ten in number. they are a series of rapid prohibitions of such offences as swearing (this was a dead letter), drunkenness (very partially obeyed), sleeping on watch, breaking leave, and so forth. it is noteworthy that the penalty attached is in most cases loss of pay. there are, however, exceptions. first, article iii. declares that if any man receiving the pay of a seaman, or less, is found guilty of telling a lie, he shall be hoisted to the forebrace with a shovel and broom tied to his back, and the crew shall cry, "a liar, a liar!" flogging, which was afterwards so common in the navy, is only mentioned once in article viii., as the punishment due, according to the custom of the sea, for certain dirty acts, which are specified with an explicitness of language impossible to quote. alongside of the organisation of a regular service and the establishing of a code of discipline there was much other work to be done. the first and the most important was to settle the system of administration in the civil branches and the dockyards. during the commonwealth and protectorate the navy had been governed by commissioners of the admiralty, a commission for discharging the office of lord high admiral at sea, and by other commissioners for executing the duties of the navy office. with the restoration there was an inevitable desire to restore the old prevailing system of the monarchy. the duke took his office as lord high admiral and gathered all its power into his own hands. at the same time, the navy office was replaced on the old footing, with one significant change. two commissioners were added to the navy board, john, lord berkeley, and penn, with general powers of supervision and control. sir w. coventry, who was also secretary to the duke of york, was added as a third commissioner in . there were also commissioners of dockyards at chatham, harwich (a post suppressed in ), and portsmouth who did not belong to the board. during the first days of his rule the duke was compelled by necessity to go on with the machinery left him by cromwell. until the arrears of the navy were paid off, no new start could be made. so soon as this was done, the duke re-established the old order. the regulations which he issued were not in the main new, but were a repetition of those promulgated by the earl of northumberland when he was made lord high admiral in . the duke prefixed to them a letter which is of considerable interest. from it we learn that the necessity for removing from the navy officers of dangerous principles and replacing them by new men had introduced many into the king's ships who were incompetent. the officers were therefore ordered to get reports from the captains as to the conduct of their subordinates, in order that those who were shown to be unfit might be removed. then follows the body of the orders. although they made a very small book when published under the name of the "oeconomy of the navy office" in , they are longer than they need have been if mere repetition had been avoided, and a more businesslike arrangement had been adopted. the officers are first to do everything jointly and then to do it separately, and many of the articles are but echoes of one another. as these orders are but a re-issue of northumberland's, they contain no notice of the functions of the two commissioners, but we learn from them at great length and very explicitly what the functions of the treasurer, surveyor, comptroller, and clerk of the acts were and continued to be until the reorganisation carried out by sir james graham. the introduction which is addressed to the board as a whole is minute, but the essential clause of it is the xviiith. it instructs them that they are to watch and check one another, "and so all may inspect each other's actions by their general power as officers, there being no difference in their trust, though otherwise a distinction in their places and particular duties and employments." what they were to check and inspect will be best shown by the functions of each officer, but it must be understood that whatever any head of a department could do in his own place, all could do in any department for the general service. the first of these officers in dignity was the treasurer of the navy. as his name shows, he was responsible for the financial management. it was his duty to make a statement of accounts for others to pass--that is to say, to accept as accurate in so far as their own departments were concerned. it was he who solicited for "privy seals"; in other words, he drew the money from the lord high treasurer. he made a yearly report to the lord high admiral of the state of all the departments in the navy. he was forbidden to pay bills by which the king or the party to whom the same was due might be "damnified," and he was ordered to be present at all payments and to charge himself fairly with all abatements, etc. the officer who ought to be named next, though he comes third in the "oeconomy of the navy," is the surveyor. it was his business to make an estimate at the end of each year of the stores needed for the next; to report to the lord high admiral on the state of the ships; to take care by himself or his "instruments" that all stores be right as to price and quality; to keep an account of all loans of stores issued out of the usual course on sudden need or private service; to charge and discharge all boatswains--that is to say, to debit them with all stores issued to ships, and to credit them with all stores properly used. at the end of every year he was instructed to ask his brother officers to inspect his trust--or, in more modern phrase, to certify he had done his work properly. he was to keep books. at the end of every year he was to report what repairs would be required in the next. then comes an instruction which is very significant, for in it lies part of the explanation of the failure of these elaborate instructions to secure their purpose. the surveyor was told that, as the increase of the navy and its lying in several places far distant made it impossible for him to see to everything as heretofore, his duty might have to be discharged by a clerk of survey, but in that case the clerk was not to issue bills, nor was the surveyor to go by his subordinate's opinion only. the next officer to be noticed is the comptroller. put briefly, the duty of this official was to check the books of the treasurer and surveyor. for this purpose he kept a separate set of accounts, and was expected to superintend all the payments made by the navy office and to survey the stores. he was to inform the board of the current prices of the market; to examine the storekeeper's books every quarter; to be present at all the meetings; to watch his brother officers continually; to report to the lord high admiral on the state and amount of the stores; to keep an account of all imprests, that is, all money advanced; to keep a copy of all estimates, privy seals, and assignations of money to the treasurer; and finally, to balance the treasurer and victualler's accounts, so that he may report to the lord high admiral whether any of the king's money is in hand at the end of the year. the last of the great officers forming the board was the clerk of the navy or clerk of the acts. this official answered to the permanent under secretary of our time. he was, in fact, the head of the secretariat, or purely office work, and it was his duty to attend all meetings of the board and to keep a record of all transactions. it appears from the "oeconomy of the navy" that he was hampered by the obligation to control what were called "petty emptions," by which were probably meant the purchase of stationery, furniture, etc., which were required for the office. but it was added, that as so much more of this work has to be done now than was formerly the case, he may leave it to be done by subordinates, whom, however, he was expected to control. it was also his duty to see that a "plurality of persons was proposed for the supply of all wants." the modern statement of this obligation would be that he was bound to take care that the surveyor and other members of the board did not get into the habit of dealing with one merchant only, with whom they might have a corrupt understanding. beneath these great officials there were a number of lesser and subordinate officers who did not form a part of the navy board. the first of these was the storekeeper, whose function it was to receive all stores, stow them away, and issue them out again on a warrant of two or more principal officers. he was to examine all bills for stores delivered; to refuse what was unfit; to receive no stores without a copy of the contract; to keep accounts; to do all work by himself, and not, unless in case of necessity, by his servants. these instructions applied to what were called in-stores--that is to say, perishable things kept in warehouses. they held good, however, for all out-stores--that is to say, wood, metal, etc., which lay in the open air. he was minutely directed as to the tests to be applied to timber, and was to take care that when ships were broken up, all the parts worth keeping were kept. the clerk of the cheque was in fact a time-clerk. it was his business to check the number of men employed, and the time they worked. he was to take surprise-musters whenever he pleased, and to hold an ordinary muster once a month. he was to watch the porter and the storekeeper. the abuses which he was especially instructed to prevent are still familiar to all who have to superintend a great shop or workyard, "such as men coming late to work, departing from work before the bell rings, tippling in alehouses or the porter's taphouse, carriaging away of timber instead of chips, etc." chips, be it observed, came to be the slang name for all kinds of pilfering from the dockyards. it was a well-established joke to say that the handsome houses in their neighbourhood were all built out of chips. the clerk of the cheque was bound to draw up and send to the treasurer the muster-books of ships newly commissioned. the master attendant was in fact a sailing-master employed in a dockyard, and not in a ship. he did the purely naval work of the yard, such as shifting ships at their moorings, and maintaining discipline among the caretakers. the title of master shipwright explains itself. the officers known by that name were in fact shipbuilders. it is worthy of note that they are vehemently forbidden to beautify ships--that is to say, to waste the king's stores in those elaborate carvings and gildings which the sea officers loved. in some of the models of the time, it is not only the case that the bow and stern are covered with elaborate carving, but the very portholes are surrounded with wreaths of gilded laurel. the clerk of the ropeyard was a clerk of the cheque for the ropewalks. the porter was an official of some dignity, who exercised very necessary functions. it depended more on him than any other man to check common and vulgar pilfering, therefore he was particularly instructed "to take notice of all back doors, all private passages by water, in the shipwrights' or caulkers' own boats, or through men's houses, or over the walls, etc., and to observe from time to time all those who used conveyances and neglect the common passage of the king's gate, and to give the clerk of the cheque notice thereof of their check and amendments." private passage means of course private errand, and by that doorway many millions of the king's money leaked away during a century and a half. the porter was carefully instructed to sell no drink. the boatswains of the yard took charge of the stores and tackle under the orders of a master shipwright. the boatswains of ships were the caretakers of the vessels at the moorings. the gunner of the yard had general charge of the stores, and was bound to watch one night out of three. the purser of the yard took charge of food, served out provisions, and was also bound to watch one night out of three. if the most elaborate provisions for standing on guard against fraud could have kept the civil administration of the navy honest, these orders of the earl of northumberland, renewed and emphasised by the duke of york, ought to have effected that wholesome purpose. nothing can surpass the care taken to check the malpractices of one individual by the vigilance of another. the ideal which has been satirically attributed to certain continental politicians, namely, the employment of half of the population as police spies on the other, would seem to have been reached in these instructions, and it would appear to be almost impossible for anyone to commit fraud under the vigilant watch of so many competent observers. but we know as a matter of fact that the administration of the navy was very corrupt under charles ii., and that it continued to be corrupt throughout the whole of the eighteenth century, and that the abuses were so flagrant in the beginning of this as to provoke the appointment of a commission when lord st. vincent was head of the admiralty. the great original cause of this failure was unquestionably a moral one. the most artful provisions for preventing pilfering and waste are useless when the officials whose duty it is to carry them out are themselves wasteful and dishonest. we know that in the reign of charles ii., everybody, from the king downwards, looked to make his pleasure, or his profit, out of his share of the government of the country. the more honest among them were content to get what gifts they could from those who had occasion to frequent their office and thought it worth while to buy their friendship. samuel pepys, for instance, who, according to the standard of the time, was rather an honest official, took every penny he could get. pepys, however, seems to have drawn the line at entering into a conspiracy to steal stores or to supply bad ones. others who were less scrupulous pushed his practices a step or two further. they were not content with merely taking such gifts as might be made them by a contractor who still supplied good stores. they were ready to help a fraudulent tradesman to sell rubbish to the state, provided he made it worth their while. even short of this excess a great deal was done which was in reality fraudulent. there came to be a kind of tradition that what was taken from the state was stolen from nobody in particular. men who were honourable enough in private transactions had no scruple about licking their fingers "like good cooks" when what stuck to them was the money voted for the navy. such men were not likely to be vigilant in watching the similar offences of other people. they were too conscious that they themselves were vulnerable. thus a tradition of dishonesty and a habit of waste established themselves in the dockyards, and it at last reached such a height that money disappeared by millions in a few years. even if the code of honour had been higher, it would have been difficult to prevent waste and mismanagement altogether. there was a defect in the organisation of the navy office which counteracted the purpose of all the instructions. they were drawn up by the earl of northumberland at a time when the navy was still a small force and its establishments were very limited. at that time it was not difficult for the four officers of the navy board to maintain that personal supervision of every detail of the service contemplated by the instructions. but with the growth of the english navy in the middle of the seventeenth century, with the great developments of its establishments caused by the construction of the dry dock at portsmouth, which belongs to the time of the commonwealth, this had entirely ceased to be the case. it was little less than absurd to expect the treasurer, surveyor, comptroller, and clerk of the acts to be present at all ratings and payments, and to superintend every detail of the receipt and issue of stores of so great a force as the english navy, yet this is what was contemplated. the truth that the task was beyond the power of the officers was not recognised by the duke and his advisers. in the instructions to the surveyor there is some slight recognition of the fact, but it does not go nearly far enough. the consequence of expecting four men at the head of the civil administration of the navy to superintend personally every detail of its working, down to the mere receipt and issue of stores in the ordinary course of business, was an utter want of direct responsibility for the sufficient execution of the work. the men at the head could not do all that was expected of them in theory. therefore they in practice left it to their subordinates. the subordinates, again, could do nothing of themselves, but only by the orders of their superiors. thus nobody was really answerable for carrying out the work. the men at the head escaped responsibility because it was physically impossible for them to attend to everything. the men below escaped because they only acted by order. between the two a host of makeshift usages grew up, which in their origin were inspired by nothing more lofty than the convenience of the officials. when men found that they could take with impunity, they took. it may be doubtful, if we look at the moral standard of the time, whether any organisation of the office would have prevented dishonesty. it is certain, however, that the organisation, which as a matter of fact did exist, gave corruption every chance. yet it is advisable not to exaggerate the extent of the evil. that there were robbery and waste is an undeniable fact. many fine houses were built out of chips, and fortunes were made at the public expense. during the reign of charles ii. and the generation following, when the corruption was at its worst, rotten ships and bad stores were to be found; even then, however, efficient ships were sent to sea. later on, corruption took the form of spending a great deal more than was necessary, rather than supplying bad goods. the prevailing sentiment of the time looked upon robbing the state very much as otherwise quite honourable people still look upon a little smuggling. the attempt to make the principal officers of the navy jointly responsible met with the success which, as experience has shown, generally follows on the effort to give a collective character to what from the necessity of the case must needs be individual. it may be laid down as a general rule, that where several men are said to be jointly responsible, one of two things will happen. either they will all insist upon acting effectively, and in that case nothing will be done; or else one of them will gain a superiority of influence, and then the others, though nominally his equals, will in reality be reduced to the position of subordinates. it was the second of these alternatives which became practically established in the working of the navy office. the comptroller, who in theory was empowered only to check the treasurer and surveyor, became gradually the most important officer of the board. the lord high admiral, or the commissioners who were discharging the office, learned from him what had been done or what it was desirable to do. in the same way the members of our own admiralty board, though in theory jointly responsible with the first lord, have in practice become subordinate to him. in the course of time, too, other departments began to group themselves around the navy board, in proportion as the work grew more complex. the commonwealth had already found it necessary to establish a special commission for dealing with the sick and hurt. the sick and hurt office became a permanent part of the machinery of naval administration. to it was left the management of the chest at chatham. this fund, originally established by sir john hawkins in the reign of queen elizabeth, was fed by the fines levied for breach of discipline and by percentages of prizes. it was meant to be devoted to the support of seamen disabled in service, either by sickness or wounds. in the reign of william iii. it was reinforced by a sum levied on the pay of all seamen, and in later days the maladministration of this fund grew into an outrageous abuse. the business of victualling the navy had originally been discharged by an official in the department of the surveyor, but it grew beyond his power to discharge. at the very end of the reign of charles ii., in , a special victualling board was created. later on, other departments were made separate, such, for instance, as the commissioners for transports, who were established and abolished, and then established again. then there was a special pay office; and it must be understood that, while the main lines remained unchanged, there was much that was fluid, unstable, and tentative in details. when it was fully grown, the old naval administration consisted of no less than fifteen departments. it was a further cause of confusion that they were not even all under one roof. the navy office was in seething lane, the sick and hurt, with the victualling board, had their office on tower hill. the pay office was in broad street. it was another proof of the final formation of the navy in this reign, that a special corps of soldiers was now first established for service in the fleet. this was the admiral's, or, as it was called from the colour of its uniform, the yellow regiment. it was the first corps of marines proper of which we have any notice. soldiers had been largely employed in the fleet before, but it does not appear that any attempt had been made to distinguish between the soldier who served in the king's ships and the soldier who was available for all military services. the admiral's regiment was specially devoted to the fleet. this corps was the predecessor, but not the ancestor, of the modern marines. it was created partly, as it would seem, by drafts from one of the london trained bands in , at the outbreak of the second dutch war, and was disbanded at the revolution. the old belief that the naval officer was rather a fighting man at sea than a seaman, was still so strong that the functions of officer in the admiral's regiment and naval officer were still considered interchangeable. the period during which the sea service was growing to its full stature was also one of strenuous and varied fighting. when king charles ii. was restored to his throne in what is officially counted as the twelfth year of his reign, the unstable adventurers who had temporarily held, or professed to hold, power in england had a considerable armament at sea. richard cromwell sent a force to the north, under the command of edward montagu. the object of this expedition was to intervene in the war between the kings of sweden and denmark. a commission, including algernon sidney, was sent to keep a watch on the admiral. but montagu was too anxious as to his own fortunes in the prevailing confusion at home to have the heart to act so far away, and his subordinate officers were of the same way of thinking. they took a pretext to return home, leaving the commissioners behind them. in england, where richard cromwell had been upset, there was no definite authority to call them to account. montagu indeed retired from the command for a time, and was replaced by john lawson. this seaman was an anabaptist. from his own account he had begun life as skipper and part owner of a small trading vessel in the north of england. clarendon called his trade by its name when he described lawson as a collier. during the civil war he had fought both on land and sea for the parliament. it might be supposed that with this past, and with what was then called his fanatical principles, lawson would have been an opponent of the restoration of the king. yet he was found agreeing with, if not promoting, a petition from the fleet in favour of the restoration, and he co-operated with monk. when the king's government was established, some of the royalists were disposed to visit lawson's earlier sins upon him, but he and the other experienced seamen of the commonwealth were too useful to the crown to be dispensed with. king charles ii., with characteristic wit, described them as men who having had the pest already and been cured of it, were therefore the less likely to be infected again. the high praise given by clarendon to the character of lawson shows that, in the opinion of a thorough cavalier, the anabaptist seaman had accepted the monarchy without reserve. there was much work for the king's sea officers to do. it was impossible, to begin with, for the restored monarchy to neglect the work of protecting commerce in the mediterranean, and the navy was hardly established on its new footing under the duke of york before a naval force was despatched against the barbary pirates. the latter part of and the whole of had been spent in the work of settling the new government. parliament had to vote money for the payment of arrears, and it was indeed impossible for the new rulers to take all in hand very speedily. so soon, however, as parliament had supplied necessary funds, and as the work of new modelling the list of officers--that is, of removing all who were too puritan, and re-establishing as many royalists as it was safe to employ--had been completed, a squadron was sent abroad, under the command of montagu, now created earl of sandwich, with lawson as second. it had a double duty to perform. the first part of its work was to chastise the barbary pirates, who had recovered from the scare caused by blake's attack on tunis, and were again engaged in searching and plundering english ships in the mediterranean. then the fleet had to bring home the king's wife, catharine of braganza, after taking possession of the post on the coast of africa ceded as part of her dower. the attempt to bring the barbary pirates to order met with very indifferent success. sandwich sailed to algiers, with eighteen men-of-war and two fireships. he appeared before algiers in july, and began negotiating through the english consul, mr. brown. the negotiations came to very little, for the algerines refused to relinquish their right of search, and the fleet was not strong enough to bombard the town. in this dilemma, sandwich decided on dividing the fleet, and devoting each part of it to one of the missions he had to fulfil. lawson was left with twelve ships to prosecute the war against the pirates, while the earl carried out the more diplomatic half of his mission. the station on the coast of africa, ceded to england as part of the dowry of catharine of braganza, was the town of tangier, which lies just outside of the straits of gibraltar, and then passed for a good port. the government of charles ii. is open to severe criticism on many grounds, but it cannot be said to have habitually neglected what were then considered the commercial interests of the nation. one of these was held to be the possession of a useful seaport, either in, or close to, the mouth of the mediterranean. as far back as the reign of queen elizabeth, some of her officers had lamented the evacuation of cadiz, on the ground that it would have been of the greatest possible use to us if we had decided to keep it. cromwell had directed his officers commanding his fleet on the coast of spain to consider the possibility of seizing on gibraltar. when the government of the king asked for the possession of tangier as part of the dowry of the portuguese princess, it took the best possible means of reconciling englishmen to a roman catholic marriage, and gave them something to set off against the subsequent surrender of dunkirk to the french king. a less conspicuous gain, in the opinion of the time, was the transfer to england of the island of bombay, which also formed part of the queen's dower. the occupation of these two posts marked another step forward in the development of the english navy. bombay was not destined to become a royal naval station for some time. it was taken possession of by the earl of marlborough, james ley, for the king, but was soon after handed over to the east india company. for that very reason it had a better chance of remaining a permanent part of the dominion of england. tangier, which at the time seemed much the greater possession, was destined to be handed back to the moors by the english king, by whom it had been received from the portuguese. yet the mere fact that these two posts over sea were accepted by the king, was a sign that he was prepared to employ his navy at all distances, and in all climates, in the general interests of the state. this, again, implied the maintenance of a permanent efficient force. it is possible that if sandwich had delayed taking possession of tangier a little longer, it might not have been in the power of the portuguese to hand it over. when the english admiral reached the bay, the white garrison had just been wholly destroyed in an ambush by the moors. sandwich withdrew the survivors of the portuguese garrison, and left an english force to hold the town, under command of the earl of peterborough. he then went on to lisbon, for the purpose of embarking the queen and escorting her to england. his functions were as much diplomatic as naval, for he was charged with receiving the money of the young queen's dower and making the final arrangements with the portuguese government. this part of his work gave sandwich more trouble than the algerine pirates or the besiegers of tangier. the government at lisbon had promised more than it could pay, and when it did at last produce a part of the queen's dower, the payment was made in goods and not in money. when he reached england with the queen, sandwich fell into temporary disgrace, not because he had failed in his duty, but because the poor young queen did not bring as much money as her impecunious husband had hoped for, and then because she for a time rebelled against the necessity of receiving her husband's numerous mistresses; and all who had a hand in the marriage suffered from the king's irritation. while sandwich was taking possession of tangier, and haggling with portuguese ministers over the queen's dower, lawson had been prosecuting the war against the algerine pirates. he met on the whole with more success than might have been expected. the lesser pirate states of tunis and tripoli were comparatively easy to cow, but algiers was a formidable opponent. there were two ways of dealing with it effectually, and lawson was not able to use either to the full. one was to bombard it with a fleet capable of beating down the fortifications and firing the town. the other was to establish a blockade which could put an entire stop to piratical voyages. lawson's fleet was not strong enough for the first, nor was it either numerous enough or well enough supplied for the second. yet, by pertinacity and vigilance he brought the government of the dey so far to submission that he undertook to give up some hundred and fifty english and scotch prisoners, who were then in slavery in the town. some vessels also were returned--a concession to which the algerines were no doubt more readily brought, because english-built craft were of little use for piratical purposes. when, however, lawson went on to make a demand for the captured goods, he was refused peremptorily. he was not the man to endure the arrogance of the pirates while it was in his power to chastise them. an opportunity presented itself for teaching them a lesson. one of their vessels, a cruiser of thirty-four guns, allowed herself to be caught out of the protection of the fortifications. lawson immediately seized her, and retaliated for the wrong done to english captives by selling all the turks or moors who formed part of her crew, as slaves to work in the galleys of the duke of beaufort, the french admiral, who was then cruising in the mediterranean. this vigorous measure brought the algerines to reason for the moment; but it was only for the moment, and several expeditions were required during the reign of charles ii. before this pirate state was made to understand that english ships must be left alone. lawson remained in the mediterranean until . during the latter part of his stay in that sea he co-operated for a time with the dutch admiral, michael de ruyter, who also had been sent into the mediterranean on the never-ending duty of cowing the algerines. the causes which put a stop to the combined action of the christian admirals go far to explain why what has been justly described as the disgrace of christendom was allowed to endure until the present century. the powers of europe were, in fact, too bitterly divided by rivalries and quarrels of their own, either to combine for the purpose of suppressing mohammedan piracy, or even to allow one another to act with energy. when de ruyter met lawson, he saluted the english flag with guns and lowered his own. lawson returned the guns, but not the salute with the flag. the dutch admiral not unnaturally considered this an insult. the pretension of the english to the sovereignty of the seas around great britain had been accepted by the hollanders in , but they did not suppose that they would be compelled to acknowledge themselves inferior to the english in all waters. de ruyter considered himself aggrieved, and made a complaint to the grand pensionary john de witt. his own determination was not to salute lawson again if they met, but he was instructed from home to lower his flag whenever he came across the english admiral, taking care, however, to avoid him as much as he could. when a man has to keep out of the way of another for fear of being insulted by him, the two can hardly co-operate effectively against a common enemy. john de witt, who was keenly alive to the dignity of his country, would not have despatched such orders as these to de ruyter if he had not been under the influence of a great fear. if he sacrificed the feelings of his seamen and the pride of holland on a point of etiquette, it was because he was then endeavouring to avert the war which the english court showed every sign of intending to force upon him. the causes of the second dutch war were, to some extent, those which had led to the first. they were compendiously stated by monk, now duke of albemarle, when he said that it was idle to dispute as to the rights and wrongs of the quarrels between the two nations, since they essentially amounted to this, that the english wanted a larger share of the trade enjoyed by the dutch. the result of the first war had not been all that englishmen expected. oliver cromwell's policy of hostility to spain had thrown the whole trade with that country, formerly enjoyed by us, into the hands of holland. dutch commerce had revived very rapidly after the disasters of the naval war. the successful intervention of holland in the war between sweden and denmark had restored the prestige of the republic, while the administration of the loevenstein party, however unwise it might be in other respects, was very vigorous, intelligent, and economical in matters of commerce. thus, when the return of the king brought peace abroad to england, we found the dutch traders competing with us as successfully as ever. in the far east, the powerful dutch east india company remained as jealous and exclusive as before. however willing the states general may have been to fulfil the promises they had made to cromwell, they were unable to control the agents of the dutch east india company in the spice islands. english ships trading to the east complained that they were stopped and turned back by the dutch. whatever element of truth there was--and in the midst of much exaggeration there was a certain amount of truth--in these complaints, the english government conducted negotiations with the obvious intention of making the most of their grievances. our representative at the hague was sir george downing, a man who had formerly served oliver cromwell and had then made his peace with the king. downing, who appears to have been by nature an insolent, overbearing man, knew that he would please his new masters by taking a high tone with the dutch, and he played his game heartily. he did not scruple to do, as indeed most ambassadors of the time would have done, namely, intrigue with those members of the states general whom he knew to be rivals of john de witt. the commercial rivalry of the nations was exasperated by political dislike between the governments. john de witt had been forced by cromwell to pass the perpetual edict, a law of the states general, designed to exclude the house of orange nassau from the position it had held in the united provinces. however unwilling the grand pensionary may have been to take this step under foreign dictation, the exclusion of the princes of orange from the place of stadtholder, with command of the army and fleet, was so consistent with the interest of the loevenstein party that they could not repeal the edict. but the young prince of orange was the nephew of the king of england. family feeling has rarely induced any prince to abstain from indulging his ambition, but it is a useful pretext for doing what has already been resolved on for less avowable reasons. charles ii. had not forgiven the dutch for excluding him from their territory at the instance of oliver cromwell. when he was recalled in , they had, with some poorness of spirit, endeavoured to pacify him by profuse honours and by a loan of money. even if charles ii. had been a less cynical man than his education had rendered him, he would hardly have put a high value on courtesies which were manifestly dictated by fear. his jesting remark on the ample table provided for him by the states general shows that he estimated their attentions at their true value. "their high mightinesses," he said, "no doubt provided a good dinner, but several of them always came to share it, and he thought that they might be said to entertain themselves at least as much as him." when the king returned, the interest he took in the commerce of his country served to make him share the jealousies of his subjects. the king and his brother became large shareholders in the royal guinea company. this was a trading corporation established for the purpose of supplying slaves in the west indies and america. it had its agents in our own possessions in the antilles, and it cherished the hope of monopolising the whole trade in slaves. in the west indies the local agents were busy in endeavouring to compel the spaniards to buy their negroes from us. the reluctance of the spanish authorities to take the business away from the genoese company, which already enjoyed the monopoly, and indeed to allow english trade in any form, had much to do with provoking the attacks on their possessions by the buccaneers who were commissioned and sent out by the king's governor in jamaica. in this field of activity also we had to expect the rivalry of the dutch, who held several stations on the west coast of africa, and were no less eager than ourselves to smuggle blacks into spanish america. at the same time, they were very well disposed to carry on the trade with our possessions. the english planter, like the spaniard, preferred to buy his negroes cheap, and, when a dutchman would sell them for less than an englishman, had not the slightest scruple in dealing with the foreign interloper. thus the price of the guinea company's negroes was kept down. to get rid of this competition was a very essential object with the company. it was by an effort to effect the purpose that the second dutch war began. the habit of conducting colonial ventures by great chartered companies lent itself very easily to the promotion of international quarrels. rival traders who had the command of an armed force were particularly likely to come to blows, when they enjoyed a position of semi-sovereignty, and were divided from all control on the part of their government by a distance of thousands of miles. the check which even the company itself could keep on its agents, when news took from six months to a year to reach home, and eighteen months or two years might pass before the superior's comment on the subordinate's actions could reach its destination at the other side of the world, was weak. the control of the state was illusory. it was first informed of the real or imaginary excesses of its subjects in a complaint from a foreign ambassador. it could not act without further evidence, which was not to be obtained till after months of delay, and was then sure to be vitiated by the partiality of the witness. thus wars on a considerable scale could be carried on by trading companies. the motive was hardly ever wanting, since there were sure to be disputes as to the respective rights, possessions, and, as we should now say, spheres of influence of the parties. even in our own time it has required all the infinitely greater power of the central government to prevent collisions between bodies of adventurers in remote regions. sometimes the central government has acted too late. in the seventeenth century the utmost good-will on the part of the states general and the crown of england could hardly have availed to avert conflict between englishmen and dutchmen, on the west coast of africa and in the more remote spice islands. when national sentiment was loud in favour of the adventurers on one side, a collision was inevitable. there can be no question that sentiment in england was strongly hostile to the dutch. if the king was disposed to promote a war with the united provinces, he was certainly well supported by his subjects. the complaints of the merchants who considered themselves aggrieved by the dutch were favourably listened to by the house of commons. both houses joined in an address to the king, calling on him to take vengeance for the wrongs done by the dutch to english traders. the amount of the injury was put at the certainly enormously exaggerated figure of seven or eight hundred thousand pounds. when the state was disposed to allow a trading company to conduct wars on its own account, it was easy to take a further step. the next thing to do was to help the company to fight, without going to the length of declaring war against the nation to which the company's rivals belonged. we have seen, in the case of oliver cromwell's expedition to the west indies, that the practice of the time allowed of what may be called partial war--that is to say, it was thought legitimate to conduct aggressive hostilities in one part of the world, without making a general war. the king and the duke of york, when they found that war with the states would be popular, decided to follow cromwell's example. a squadron was fitted out to attack the dutch possessions on the west coast of africa, and was placed under the command of sir robert holmes. holmes has been mentioned already as one of the royalist officers who had followed prince rupert. in the course of that cruise he had visited the west coast of africa, and had then been encouraged by the dutch to attack his own countrymen. in the course of his operations, holmes must have become well acquainted with the coast, and it was doubtless this knowledge that marked him out for the command. he sailed from england with a small squadron in october . his instructions were to avoid fighting as far as possible. we do the king and duke of york no injustice in supposing that these orders were rather meant to be quoted for diplomatic purposes than to be strictly acted upon by the admiral. the whole history of sir robert holmes's cruise shows clearly that he knew beforehand that he would not be blamed for fighting if he could find a plausible excuse for hostilities, and that, when once the fighting had begun, he would not be expected to confine himself to moderate reprisals. a plausible excuse could hardly be wanting. when holmes reached the river gambia, he found the english traders and the portuguese, who were now our allies, full of bitter complaints of the excesses of the dutch. on his way he had come across a dutch ship, and, on searching her, found, as he alleged, orders to the dutch governor, valckenburg, to seize the english fort at cape cormantin. how sir robert holmes reconciled the act of searching a dutch ship in time of peace, and on the high seas, with his instructions to avoid hostilities, we are not told. from the dutch point of view he acted on the principles of the wolf, and assailed the lamb for troubling the water. the rival accounts of dutch governors and english naval officers are utterly irreconcilable, and perhaps not worth reconciling. when englishmen had made their minds up, as they had, that they wanted more of the trade enjoyed by the dutch, and when the dutch were, as might have been expected, thoroughly resolved to keep all the trade they enjoyed, it was a matter of course either that aggressions would be committed, or that one of the two parties would believe that they had been committed. sir robert holmes made a number of prizes in the neighbourhood of the cape de verd islands, and then swept the coast as far down as sierra leone. an attack on the dutch post at st. george da mina was repulsed, but he took possession of some other minor posts. his next step supplies overwhelming evidence to show that he had not been sent out to avoid hostilities, and had not only been driven into fighting against his will. he stood across the atlantic and attacked the dutch on the mainland of america. he fell with his squadron on the dutch colony of new amsterdam, and had no difficulty in mastering it. then he returned to england, where he was thrown into the tower on the demand of the dutch ambassador--a step which proves that the government was not ready to declare war on holland, and would much have preferred that the declaration should come from the other side, but by no means establishes a presumption that holmes had exceeded his confidential instructions. the course taken by john de witt, when he found that the english had committed an aggression on the west india company, was to play them a return match at the same game. he did not use his influence to persuade the states general to declare war, though he must have known that war was now inevitable. the commercial oligarchy which formed the loevenstein party was very averse to war. it would infinitely have preferred to soothe the king of england by concessions, if it could have succeeded at any tolerable cost. if this could not be done, it preferred to confine war to the colonies as long as possible. even this was difficult for it. the insolent and overbearing downing maintained a vigilant watch on the actions of the states general. he would have been informed immediately if a squadron had been prepared in the dutch harbours to follow sir robert holmes, and in that case an instant declaration of war from england was to be feared. the fleet of michael de ruyter was at the disposal of the states. it was cruising in the mediterranean, and ready to start at a moment's notice. but here the same difficulty presented itself. downing was sure to be informed if orders were sent to the admiral. john de witt escaped that risk by a piece of ingenious management. he contrived to get the question what ought to be done in consequence of sir robert holmes's cruise referred to a select committee of his own partisans. the orders were drafted by them, and were then slipped through at a general meeting of the states without attracting attention. by the terms of these orders de ruyter was directed to fill up a year's provisions on the coast of spain, and to follow in the track of holmes, retaking the places he had seized, and retaliating for the damage he had done to dutch commerce. de ruyter carried out his instructions to the letter. he re-established the dutch on the west coast of africa, then he stood across to the west indies. an attack made by his fleet on barbadoes proved unsuccessful, but the damage done to english trade was considerable. then de ruyter stretched along the coast of north america as far as newfoundland. he failed to retake new amsterdam, which, under the name of new york, remained in our hands at the close of the war. from newfoundland he returned home. this counter-stroke provoked a furious outcry of anger in england, for it is perhaps more the custom of the english than any other nation to be seized with unaffected moral indignation when another does unto them the disagreeable thing which they have just been doing to someone else. letters of marque and reprisal were now issued on both sides, and a privateering war of plunder preceded regular hostilities. the dutch oligarchy would still have made peace if they could, but the english court had at last found its pretext, and was resolved to force on the quarrel. the terms upon which it insisted were such as a people far less courageous and less powerful than the dutch could not possibly have accepted. the formal declaration of war was delayed until march . no great change had taken place in the relative strength of the two navies since the conclusion of the first dutch war. the english still had the superiority which they derived from unity of command and the greater strength of their ships. the loevenstein party had done nothing to remove the fatal defects of organisation in the fleets of the united provinces. indeed it could do nothing, since the only way in which unity of command could be given to the different squadrons of the provinces was by again naming a stadtholder, and allowing the office to carry with it the post of admiral-general. but to ask the loevenstein party to do this was to ask them to commit suicide. so we find the same divisions of authority in the dutch fleet in this as in the former war. the commercial government of the republic had done nothing, and perhaps from its character could do nothing, to establish a higher standard of military spirit among its officers. on the side of england the monarchy was still profiting by the work of the council of state and oliver cromwell. the corruption which in the later years of king charles's reign invaded every detail of the administration of the navy had not yet got the upper hand. although the practice of giving the command of ships to young gentlemen who had absolutely no qualification beyond their interest at court was already followed, still the bulk of the captains and all the flag-officers, with few exceptions, were the veterans of the first dutch war. these men were already accustomed to act together; they had fought side by side in many battles, and had cruised in company for months. they had the tradition of the last war fresh in their minds. to this must be attributed the general good discipline and efficiency displayed in the coming struggle. the fleet left by the protector to the restored monarchy was estimated at ships of , tons. the average size of vessels was therefore about tons, and had not increased during the century. some twenty or thirty of these vessels were foreign built--that is to say, were prizes taken from the dutch, french, or spanish. but the great majority were built by the petts and their school. it is somewhat curious that although the reign of charles ii. was a time of great scientific curiosity and activity, and although the king took an intelligent interest in the forms and qualities of his vessels, yet the art of shipbuilding in england appears to have rather lost than gained ground. if we did not become positively worse, we allowed ourselves to be outstripped by the french. during this reign we constantly hear of english shipbuilders as imitating french models, and that not always with success. in the time of charles i. phineas pett built the finest vessels in the world, on his own lines, and by his own calculations. in the reign of charles ii. this superiority had been lost. even the dutch, taught by experience, began to build their vessels much higher and stronger. pepys, who is an unanswerable authority, noted that "in and the dutch and french built ships with two decks, which carried from sixty to seventy guns, and so contrived that they carried their lower guns four feet from the water, and to stow four months' provisions, whereas our frigates from the dunkirk-build, which were narrower and sharper, carried their guns but little more than three feet from the water, and for ten weeks' provisions. observing this, sir anthony deane built the =rupert= and =resolution=, mr. shish the =cambridge=, mr. johnson the =warspight=, and mr. castle the =defiance=. the two latter were, by contract of the commissioners of the navy, bound to carry six months' provisions, and their guns to lie four and a half feet from the water. this was another great step and improvement to our navy put in practice by sir anthony deane." yet this stimulus seems to have exhausted itself very soon, for eight or nine years afterwards, in the third dutch war, when a french squadron of thirty-five ships came to spithead, several of them were found to excel ours of the same nominal rate in size and quality. it was once more seen to be the case that ours were narrower, could stow less provisions, and carried their guns nearer the water. again, we took a french ship for a model; this time it was the _superbe_, a -gun ship. the =harwich= was built in imitation of her by sir anthony deane. an attempt was made to improve the models of our navy in the thirty ships which were built by the special parliamentary grant in those years. the corruption which had by this time overwhelmed the navy made these efforts of little avail. the vessels built out of the grant were so ill-constructed, so carelessly looked after, and put together of such very poor material, that they rotted at their moorings before they were used. perhaps the desire to possess a great many vessels had a bad effect. when a definite sum of money has to be spent, when it is not sufficient to pay for both number and size, and when number is strongly desired, it will inevitably follow that vessels will be built of the smallest size required to carry the desired number of guns. it is certainly the case that during the latter part of the seventeenth century and nearly the whole of the eighteenth our ships were, rate for rate, smaller than the french. at one time in the eighteenth century we allowed ourselves to be outstripped so far that two english 's were hardly more than a match in strength and tonnage for one spanish ship of the same nominal strength. a french -gun ship was as large as an english man-of-war of guns. this, however, was a later development. in the earlier part of the reign of charles ii. we were still superior on the whole to the dutch in all but numbers, which in every generation and in every kind of war is the least valuable of the elements of strength. at the beginning of the second dutch war the duke of york wrote from portsmouth to complain that the vessels then being built were designed on too small a scale. he argued that the dutch could always excel us in point of number, and that it was desirable to possess a counterbalancing advantage in the size, and what followed from size, the broadside weight of fire of our individual ships. the duke's view did not prevail, but it is well worth quoting, if only to show how old is this conflict between the two schools of naval critics--those who rely on number and those who rely on individual strength. chapter xi the second dutch war to the four days' battle authorities.--the state papers, which are very fully copied in the calendars for these years, are by far the best authorities for the events of the second. the official narrative of the battle of lowestoft published by the government, and drawn up by the duke of york's secretary, sir w. coventry, is printed in the life of penn. a very full account of the four days' battle by a french eyewitness is to be found in the _memoirs of the comte de guiche_. clarendon gives the fullest account of the transactions at bergen. captain mahan's _sea power in history_ and admiral colomb's _naval warfare_ now become inestimable, and pepys, it is needless to say, indispensable. brandt's _life of de ruyter_, the _life of cornelius van tromp_, and m. de pontalis' _jean de witt_ give the dutch side. if proof were wanted that the dutch were not prepared for war, it might be found in the length of time they allowed to the english government to get its fleet ready for sea. the cruise of sir robert holmes would have been more than sufficient provocation to a power really in search of a pretext for hostilities. yet the dutch let a year pass, and even then did not fight until they were attacked, for it must be remembered that the counter-cruise of de ruyter was strictly limited to the ground already covered by holmes, or to reprisals in the colonies. if john de witt and his party had been really disposed for a new struggle with england, it would have been easy for them to attack her at home while unprepared. unprepared she was until the early months of . happily, the dutch were not in a better case. the commercial oligarchy had sacrificed everything to economy, and their fighting fleet was not ready. therefore the english government was allowed time to fit out its armaments. it needed every hour which the delay of its enemy allowed. even as late as november the total force of the english fleet ready, or being made ready, for sea was only this: on the coast of ireland there were three vessels. thirteen were stationed in the straits of gibraltar. one was on duty at tangier. the convoy to the newfoundland fishery employed two, which, with the three assigned to new england, and two at jamaica, made seven vessels on the coast of america. there were three on the guinea coast of africa, one was in the medway, one on transport duty, one in the east indies, fourteen with prince rupert in the north sea, and twenty-four in the channel. these ships, sixty-six in all, were ready, but a third of them were not available for service in europe. thirty-seven others were being fitted for sea. when it is remembered that this was the state of things a year after the government of king charles had made an attack on the dutch which must almost certainly lead to war, it will be obvious that if england was unprepared it was because her rulers were wanting in foresight, and if the dutch were not ready it was because they had not been casting about for an excuse for a quarrel. it was, in truth, not easy to fit out a fleet on the scale required for a struggle with holland. parliament was indeed enthusiastic for the war, and could supply the money. the £ , and odd required to victual , men for a year were easily voted, and were not difficult to raise among the merchants of the city, but to get the men and to equip the ships required more than money. the difficulty of finding men was immense. the press, though no doubt a powerful instrument of coercion, did not work satisfactorily in the hands to which it was entrusted. corruption had already made way so far that the officials entrusted with the duty of levying the sailors were vehemently suspected of taking bribes to allow all who could afford to pay them to escape. it was only the more miserable who were taken. peter pett, the commissioner of the dockyard at chatham, wrote to complain at the end of the year of "those pitiful pressed creatures, who are fit for nothing but to fill the ships full of vermin." at about the same time, the duke of york at portsmouth was complaining that no men could be found there, and that, unless men could be sent down from the thames, some of his vessels must be left behind, or all of them must go to sea short-handed. even when the men had been obtained, it was difficult to keep them. the duke complained that upwards of two hundred men had deserted in a few days. furious threats of punishment to be inflicted for desertion were issued by the admiralty, and the seamen were told that they would be hanged as an example if they dared to desert. all this coercion appeared of very little use, and the government of the king was reduced, like the council of state of the commonwealth, to pass acts for the encouragement of seamen--in other words, to give them promises of security for prize-money. these produced some effect. at the same time, the king suspended the navigation acts which compelled a shipowner to man his vessels with englishmen. this became in time the usual preliminary to a great war, for there were not enough seamen in england to man both the trading and the fighting fleet of the country when this latter was on a war-footing. the government was so hard pressed that it made great efforts to secure scotch sailors, but the measure did not prove wholly satisfactory. it was doubtful whether scotch seamen could be lawfully pressed by the king in england. the war caused serious loss to the trade of the east coast of scotland with the continent, and as scotchmen did not consider themselves concerned in the colonial quarrels of england, they were deeply aggrieved. numbers of them undoubtedly fought in the dutch fleets, where their pay was secure, which was far from being the case in the fleet of their own king. however, the act for the encouragement of seamen produced a good effect, and by the spring of a really powerful fleet had been got together. while the main fleets were getting ready at home, hostilities were being pursued abroad. the fleet in the straits, meaning what we should now call the mediterranean squadron, was under the command of captain thomas allen, an old royalist seaman who had served with prince rupert. allen had succeeded lawson in command of the force appointed to protect our levant trade against the algerine pirates. in this work he had had some success, having on one occasion captured no less than five pirate cruisers. but the approach of war with holland called him off from this duty. he withdrew from the centre of the mediterranean and stationed himself in the straits. here he lay in wait for the dutch. allen's orders were as contradictory as was to be expected, considering that they were given by a government which wanted to enjoy the incompatible advantages of making war on another, and yet of not declaring itself in open hostility. he was told that he might attack the dutch men-of-war, or the smyrna fleet, but not such of their vessels as came past in twos and threes. the meaning of the distinction is not very obvious. allen also complained that he was not allowed to attack the dutch in spanish ports, which throws a light on the opinion entertained by naval officers of the time as to what constituted neutrality. his operations were not at first very successful. while pursuing what he calls a dutch fleet, and what was no doubt a convoy of merchant ships, he ran several of his squadron of nine ships on shore, where two of them were totally lost. the others were got off, and on the th december allen was consoled for this misfortune. he fell in with the dutch smyrna convoy proceeding home under protection of three men-of-war. it consisted of fourteen sail in all. allen at once attacked with his remaining seven vessels, sunk two of the dutch, and captured two of the others. one of the two prizes was a rich vessel from smyrna. the dutch vessels which escaped destruction or capture fled into cadiz. this operation in the later stages of our history would have attracted little or no attention, but it passed at that time for a considerable achievement, and was even, for the greater glory of the nation, very much exaggerated. the fourteen dutch vessels were swollen out to forty. we were not, in truth, so honestly persuaded of our superiority to the dutch that we could afford to make light of any success gained against them, or to abstain, it may be added, from mere vulgar boasting. when, partly by the press and partly by promises, the fleet had at last been manned, it was concentrated in the north sea under the command of the duke of york. the duke himself went as lord high admiral, having penn in the flagship as his naval adviser, and lawson as his second in command of the centre or red squadron. the white squadron was commanded by prince rupert, with myngs and sansum as his second and third. the blue squadron was under the command of sandwich, with cuttins and sir george ayscue as his subordinates. it would seem that our fleet was a little farther advanced than the enemy in readiness. in the early days of may the duke of york sailed over to the coast of holland, and stationed himself opposite the texel, in hope of provoking the dutch to come out to battle, or, if he failed in this purpose, of inflicting serious damage on their commerce. the dutch did not, however, put to sea at once, and the duke was compelled to return to england by want of provisions. the complaint that the victuals provided would not be sufficient had been heard for months, and nothing gives a more vivid impression of the administrative inefficiency of the time than the fact that it had not produced a remedy. the english fleet returned to the coast of suffolk to take in stores. while there, it was visited by court ladies and joined by numbers of volunteers. in later times gentlemen of distinguished family who had offered to lumber the quarter-deck of a flagship in the channel would probably have been answered in the spirit of the boatswain in _the tempest_--"you mar our labour: keep your cabins: you do assist the storm." but in the seventeenth century it was not yet thoroughly understood that a spirited and willing gentleman may be a superfluity in a fight, if he has no training to the business. the fleet of the duke of york was full of nobles and gentlemen who came to serve a campaign. the business of victualling the fleet was but slowly performed, and the difficulties as to men had not yet been conquered. sir william coventry, the duke of york's secretary, complained that sailors were not to be got, and gave a very sensible reason for the deficiency, namely, that men who could earn £ a month in a collier--for, under the stress of war, wages had risen to this height--could hardly be expected to be content with s. in a king's ship, for which, moreover, they had to wait a year. small wages, ill-paid, were not made the more acceptable by short allowances of food, by want of beer, and in some cases by the want even of water. "the duchess and her beautiful maids," whose departure from the fleet was noted by coventry in a serio-comic vein, must have been very glad to find themselves back in london, even though the plague had already made its appearance there. while the english fleet was painfully filling up with provisions and water, the dutch had at last got to sea. they were under the command of baron opdam de wassanaer, who had with him courtenaer, evertsen, and cornelius van tromp. opdam's first purpose was to cover the return home of michael de ruyter with a convoy, then he was to seek out and give battle to the english fleet. the dutch admiral, though a man of undoubted courage, as he showed in the ensuing action, was not much disposed to engage the english except at an advantage. he was aware of the inferior size of his ships, and also that the military spirit of a number of his captains was not good. therefore, though he discharged the first part of his duty with success, and even made a great many captures of english merchant vessels, he showed a certain reluctance to force on the battle. although he was short of men, the duke of york did not hang back, but stood to sea from solebay on the st of june, when he heard of the approach of opdam and his capture of some english merchant ships from hamburg. he had an additional motive for acting with vigour, since the coaling fleet was then on its way south from the northern ports. the capture of this convoy by the dutch would have caused immense inconvenience to london, and would, moreover, have been a serious misfortune to the duke himself, since it would have deprived him of his best chance of recruiting his fleet by pressing the colliers. the promptitude of our movements averted this misfortune. the coal fleet was met on the st of june, and the duke reinforced his ships by taking out the crews. the vessels were probably left at anchor near the coast under the charge of one or two watchmen. the wind was easterly, with a tendency to turn to the s.w. opdam, distrusting the quality of his own command, was unwilling to engage, but his reluctance to fight was overcome by the emphatic orders of john de witt. the grand pensionary, who was not a man of military training either on sea or land, may have underrated the difficulties which weighed on the mind of opdam, but as a politician he understood that it is sometimes better to fight and be beaten than not to fight at all, and his common-sense must have told him that if the dutch fleet only fought hard enough, it would certainly make the english pay very dear for their victory. it may be, too, that john de witt was secretly conscious of sufficient resolution of character to make use of those means of keeping the captains up to their duty which cornelius de witt had in vain threatened to set in motion in the previous war. there was much to be said for bringing on a battle in order to find who would do his duty and who would not, provided it was also decided to make a necessary example of such as showed the white feather. the first great battle of the second dutch war was fought on the rd june between thirty and forty miles s.e. of lowestoft. on the st june the duke of york had been at anchor at solebay when he was informed of the appearance of the dutch to the s.s.e. he at once weighed, and stood farther out, coming to an anchor at nightfall. the wind was easterly. during the whole of the nd june the english were working up towards the dutch, who continued to decline battle; and as the wind, though drawing round to the south, was still more or less easterly, they had the weather-gage, and could not be forced to action. at dark we anchored again. during the night the wind shifted round to the s.s.w., and when the morning came the english were to windward. the duke at once gave the order to bear down on the enemy. opdam, stimulated by the orders of john de witt, did not decline battle. he would have done better for holland if he had attacked while he had the wind in his favour and could have used his fireships. the battle began at half-past three in the morning. rupert led the van. the duke was in the centre with the red squadron, and sandwich commanded in the rear with the blue squadron. it appears that the dutch now endeavoured to regain the windward position which they had held on the day before, but failed to weather the head of the english line. english and dutch passed on opposite tacks, we heading to the north, they to the south. when the two fleets had passed, there was a pause in the fire. then both tacked, which reversed the order of the squadrons so that at the second "charge" the rear or blue squadron under sandwich led the english line. it was now six o'clock. the opponents passed one another again, heading in the reverse of their former direction, the english towards the south, the dutch to the north, and once more there was a pause in the battle. as each fleet consisted of from eighty to a hundred ships, it must have covered from eight to ten miles of sea, measuring from the leading ship to the last. as the rate of speed was certainly slow, not more than three or three and a half miles, it is easy to understand that each of these passes, or, as they were called at the time, charges, would take two and a half or three hours to perform. both fleets tacked together for the third pass, and the dutch had some hope of weathering rupert's squadron, which was again leading. but the duke with the red squadron was so well to windward that he would have weathered them, and they would have been placed between two fires. they therefore fell to leeward of rupert. as they were passing, the duke tacked his fleet, beginning with the blue squadron, and thus brought the english fleet to head in the same direction as the dutch. the english fleet now pressed on to the attack so fiercely that they baffled the attempt of the dutch to tack. opdam fought his own ship bravely till she blew up by the side of the english flagship. then some of the dutch ships in the centre flinched from the attack of the duke and his vice-admiral, lawson. they fairly ran to leeward, thus leaving a gap in the line, through which he broke. the battle now became a furious mêlée, in which the dutch were completely beaten and fled towards their own coast. their loss would have been more serious than it was if their retreat had not been covered by cornelius van tromp with a seamanship and indomitable courage worthy of his father. the escape of the enemy was assisted by a mysterious incident in the english flagship. night fell while the dutch were still struggling to escape with the english in pursuit. the duke led his fleet in the =royal charles= of eighty guns, and the orders were that the other ships were to follow his light. the battle had cost us less than a thousand men in killed and wounded, but it had been extraordinarily fatal to men of high position, and to those immediately around the duke. admiral sansum had been killed. sir john lawson was disabled by a musket-shot which shattered the bone of his leg above the knee, inflicting a mortal wound. the earl of marlborough, who had been sent out to take possession of bombay for the king, had also fallen, so had the earl of portland. in the flagship the earl of falmouth, lord muskerry, and mr. boyle, gentlemen serving with the duke, were all killed together, by a chain-shot, close to his side. he was drenched in their blood, and wounded in the hand by a fragment of mr. boyle's skull. the courage of the duke of york has been praised even by his enemies, and, although swift recorded the cruel sneer that he made a cowardly popish king, we are not entitled to doubt his bravery. yet, the horror of such a scene as this, coming on the top of the fatigues of the battle and the anxiety of the preceding weeks, may pardonably have been something too much for a man who was not hardened by experience to scenes of blood and conflict. it is certain that he left the deck on the persuasion of the officers of his household. it is no less certain that, shortly afterwards, one of his gentlemen, brouncker by name, came up from the cabin to john harman, captain of the flagship, who remained on the quarter-deck, with the order to shorten sail. after more or less hesitation, harman obeyed. sail was shortened in the flagship, and, as the other vessels were strictly ordered not to pass the admiral's light, the english fleet fell behind, and the dutch escaped into the texel. the truth of this incident was afterwards wrapped up in a cloud of contradictions, and of what we are justified in asserting must in part have been lies. the duke denied that he gave brouncker the order, and finally dismissed him from his service. brouncker, who was of infamous character, was capable of misusing the duke's name, but it is strange that if he did he was not sooner punished. the explanation that he was valuable to his master for services it is not well to record, is as nearly discreditable to the duke's character as want of firmness could have been in the reaction natural after such a terrible experience. the truth about the duke of york is perhaps that his courage was of the kind defined by marryat as negative. he had the nerve to face a foreseen danger when it came in his way, but not that "springing valour" which can attack and adventure. the loss inflicted upon the dutch in this first great battle of the war was much exaggerated in the excitement of the victory. it was said that almost all the dutch officers had been killed, and the number of vessels taken or burnt was greatly over-estimated. in truth, the loss of the dutch in principal officers was less than our own. the total number of prizes brought into harwich was fifteen, and it is doubtful if, when we add the vessels sunk and burnt, their total loss much exceeded twenty. their historians put it far lower. it was more painful to the feelings of a patriotic dutchman than any mere material loss could have been, that the defeat was undeniably due at least as much to the palpable misconduct of some among the captains as to the superiority of the english in the quality of their ships and the skill of their leaders. it had been noticed in the previous war that some of the dutch captains employed in their fleet, though no doubt good seamen, were wanting in military ardour. this experience was repeated in the battle of the rd of june. it provoked john de witt to take very stern measures. four of the captains who had deserted their posts in the line of battle were shot for cowardice. others whose guilt was less flagrant were cashiered. unfriendly critics of the dutch have represented that these measures were taken merely for the purpose of throwing the responsibility of defeat on individual officers, but the misconduct of some of the captains in the battle of the rd of june is undeniable, and it was of the kind which by the customs of all nations deserves death. john de witt obtained for himself a commission from the states general to join the fleet as deputy. his numerous enemies have founded on this an accusation of foolish vanity. professional judges, both seamen and soldiers, are naturally impatient of the presence of a civilian in the midst of warlike operations, but there are times when the interference of a representative of the state is of immense value. if he comes to hamper the admiral or general he is no doubt a mere nuisance, but if his purpose is to assist the commander to enforce discipline, and to stimulate him to vigorous exertions, then the deputy may supply an element of much-needed vigour. if john de witt had been a prince, his conduct would have been thought heroic, and it did instil a spirit of decision into the handling of the dutch fleet, which had hitherto been wanting. it is possible that the grand pensionary might have been less successful if he had not found a commander-in-chief for the fleet who gave him effectual assistance. this was michael de ruyter. cornelius van tromp considered himself entitled to the place. the disappointment he felt at the nomination of de ruyter deepened his hatred of the loevenstein party. he conceived a peculiar animosity to de witt, which he afterwards showed in a manner highly dishonourable to himself, by publicly gloating over the corpses of the grand pensionary and his brother cornelius, when they had been horribly murdered by a mob. he did not, however, refuse to serve, and the government, though well aware of his feelings, did not venture to remove him from command. the attention given to the war on the part of the english government was not so energetic as to interfere with the measures taken by john de witt to improve the discipline of the dutch fleet. the duke of york did not stay long on the coast of holland. his fleet, in truth, had suffered so severely in the spars and rigging as to be in great need of a refit. when it was found that the dutch had contrived to take refuge in the texel, the english made no effort to establish a blockade, but returned immediately to their own coasts. the ships were brought back to the ports between lowestoft and harwich, and refitted without bringing them into the thames. within a month they were again ready for sea, but did not sail under the command of the duke of york. it is to be noted that, in spite of the reputation he has retained as an admiral, the duke of york's services at sea during war were scanty and erratic. in this case, for instance, after commanding in a successful battle, he was suddenly removed from the command. it is difficult to believe that this was done wholly against his own wish. he and his brother the king were not always on the best terms, but it is not to be believed that charles would have compelled his brother to come on shore if the duke of york had been really anxious to stay at sea. much was made of the fact that he was heir to the crown, and it is said that the duchess laid strict injunctions on the duke's servants not to let him engage too far, and that it was her influence with the king that prevented her husband from going to sea again; but the world has generally thought lightly of the courage of a fighting man who is kept out of danger by his wife. if his relationship to the king made his life too valuable to be risked, he ought never to have gone to sea at all. he was succeeded in the command of the fleet by the earl of sandwich, who was to have been associated with prince rupert, but the prince was reluctant to share authority, and the sole command was left in the hands of the earl. sandwich stood over to the coast of holland, but found the dutch not yet ready to put to sea. the states general had put an embargo upon commerce, partly to facilitate the manning of their fleet, but partly also to diminish the risk of loss by capture. a blockade of the texel was therefore far from lucrative; and as charles's government was, as usual, in great straits for money, sandwich was inclined to entertain any suggestion for making a more profitable use of his force. the court was equally well inclined to approve of arty enterprise which was likely to produce plunder. at this moment a considerable temptation was thrown in its way. although the dutch had put an embargo on the outward-bound trade, they had naturally not attempted to stop the return home of their convoys from the east indies and the levant. the vessels belonging to these two fleets had only been instructed to avoid the dangerous route up channel, and to return home by the north of scotland. twenty vessels engaged in these two lucrative branches of the dutch trade were reported to be lying in the harbour of bergen in norway. they had taken refuge in this port probably in obedience to a warning from holland. norway was then a part of the dominions of the crown of denmark, which was in alliance with holland, and had indeed owed its escape from destruction by the swedes, to dutch intervention, only a few years before this time. gratitude is proverbially a motive of little or no power with politicians. the then king of denmark did not consider that his debt to the dutch made it obligatory upon him to abstain from endeavouring to profit by their misfortunes. a scheme for plundering the ships at bergen was drawn up. whether it was suggested by the english envoy, sir gilbert talbot, to the king, or by the king to sir gilbert, is not quite certain, and it is not perhaps a matter of much importance. the essential fact is, that a scheme was made for plundering the dutch, and that the host with whom they had taken refuge was a party to it. sandwich sailed north. he seems to have wished to be quite sure of the co-operation of the king of denmark. indeed, if it was intended that he was to sail into bergen and attack vessels under the protection of danish batteries, it was obviously desirable to be sure beforehand of the co-operation of the king of denmark's officers. but the king, though perfectly ready to share in the plunder of the dutch, had a gentlemanly disinclination to write himself down a rogue. he refused to allow a written agreement to be made, and insisted that the scheme should be carried out on an honourable but vague understanding. sandwich can hardly have liked his work, for it was too probable that if the plan failed, the king of denmark would deny his own responsibility; and if he also found it useful to vindicate himself to the dutch by professing to quarrel with england, the whole blame would be thrown on the english admiral. it was also within the knowledge of sandwich that the dutch would make a resolute effort to bring their fleet off safe, and that de ruyter had been appointed to the command. the english admiral must have been perfectly well aware that his dutch opponent would not fail through want of faculty or energy. if the dutch ships at bergen were to be seized, the work must be done at once. the result might have been more profitable to the english if sandwich had resolved to attack immediately, and had directed the enterprise himself. whether because he thought that the arrival of de ruyter was the greater danger, or because he also was anxious to provide himself with a scapegoat in case of failure, he entrusted the direction of operations to his subordinate, sir thomas teddiman. teddiman sailed into bergen, accompanied by a mr. clifford, who had been sent from copenhagen by talbot with the assurances that the king of denmark was friendly to the venture, though he did not care to take an open part in it. this agent was landed to inform the danish governor at bergen that the english were ready to perform their part in the act of brigandage approved by his august master. the governor was aware of what was expected of him, but had not yet received sufficiently definite instructions from his superior, the danish viceroy at christiania. he asked the english to wait for a little. teddiman was not disposed to wait; perhaps he had very small confidence in persons who showed such a manifest disposition to roguery as the danish officials, and perhaps he was afraid of the arrival of michael de ruyter. he decided to attack the dutch the next day. in the meantime the convoy had taken vigorous measures for its own safety. great part of its goods had been landed on the guarantee of the danish governor. as the water of the harbour at bergen is very deep, the dutch had been able to draw their ships up close to the shore, and it was the more difficult to attack them because the port is broken by masses of rock. if the danes had co-operated actively, the dutch would have been at the mercy of the associates, but the governor did not render any assistance to teddiman. among persons engaged in carrying out a piece of brigandage, it is not unreasonable to suspect the presence of the mutual distrust common among thieves. it may well be that when the danish governor found teddiman attacking in such haste, he may have thought that the english meant to act without his consent, in order to have an excuse for carrying off all the booty; and it would indeed be rash to assert that he was wrong. the upshot of it all was, that when the english fell on, they were received with a hot and damaging fire, not only from the dutch ships, but from the danish batteries. in the end the english were driven out to sea. edward montagu, a cousin of the earl of sandwich, and several captains were killed in the fight. on the following day the viceroy arrived from christiania. this official appeared to regret what had happened, and endeavoured to persuade sandwich to renew the attack, promising that on this occasion he should not want for effective assistance. at the same time, however, he suggested that before the english carried off their plunder they should make a fair division with the danes. now the first scheme had been that the whole was to be carried off by the english, and that the king of denmark was to receive his share from the king of england. reflection had brought the danes to the judicious conclusion that it was much safer to get the plunder into their own hands directly. but sandwich had no orders to make this arrangement, and may have perhaps begun to doubt whether the danes really meant to help him. he sailed from the coast of norway, and so that episode of the second dutch war came to an end. as sandwich stood to the south on his way back to england, where he anchored at solebay, he crossed the dutch fleet steering to the coast of norway to bring off the ships at bergen. de ruyter was in command, and john de witt accompanied him. they arrived off bergen at an exceedingly convenient moment for their countrymen. the danish governor had come to the conclusion that there was no reason why he should not do for himself what he had been told to do with the co-operation of the english. he attempted to extort a hundred thousand crowns from the dutch by threats to sink them with his cannon unless they paid him this amount of blackmail. the arrival of de ruyter, and the presence in the fleet of the greatest statesman in holland, brought this greedy ruffian to his senses. the convoy was allowed to go out, and the danish governor was left to console himself by seizing a few of the guns which the dutch had landed on the shore for their protection. de witt turned homeward to holland with his convoy. in the early days of september the weather became stormy, the fleets were scattered, a portion of the dutch convoy fell into our hands, but the bulk got safe back to holland. it was now september, and the time was approaching when, according to the practice of the seventeenth century, it was no longer safe to keep the great ships at sea. the fleet then must shortly be laid up, and could no longer serve to take dutch convoys, even if any had been coming home so late in the year. on the whole, the result of the summer's fighting had not been satisfactory. it is true that we had gained an undoubted victory over the enemy, but his fleet had not been destroyed. amid the ringing of bells and public rejoicings, the more sagacious men in the employment of the english government were well aware that the dutch would soon be at sea again. the prizes taken from the enemy had fallen much short of the expectations of the court. in spite of large grants from parliament, the king was greatly embarrassed. he had hoped that the war would support itself, but this expectation, which has seldom been realised, was disappointed in this case also. sandwich was not well received on his return, and among the courtiers there was a general inclination to accuse him of want of energy. sir william coventry, who, as the duke of york's secretary and a commissioner of the navy, had many means of securing a hearing, was one of the most severe of the earl's critics. a mistake made by sandwich on his return home laid him open to the attacks of his enemies. his flag-officers made him a petition that "in regard of their having continued all the summer upon the seas with great fatigue, and been engaged in many actions of danger, that he would distribute amongst them some reward out of the indian ships." the indian ships were that part of the convoy from bergen which had fallen into his hands in consequence of the storm. sandwich thought the request reasonable, and wrote a letter to the king, asking for his approbation. with his usual good-nature, charles consented. but before his approval reached sandwich, the admiral had distributed as much of the coarser goods as were theoretically valued at £ for each flag-officer, and had taken £ worth for himself. whatever the motives of sandwich may have been, his action was undeniably illegal, and was not less ill-advised. it was a standing and well-known rule that no prize taken from the enemy was to be touched until it had been condemned by the admiralty, and that a distribution of the shares was to be made on a regular system. even the king's personal consent would not have justified sandwich in breaking the law. but the way in which he acted was sure not only to embroil him with the admiralty, but to arouse a very natural indignation among the captains and the seamen. they said that the prizes were being plundered for the exclusive benefit of the admiral and flag-officers, and it cannot be denied that on the face of it they were right. the merchants interested in the east india company were no less indignant than the captains and seamen. they complained that the indian goods distributed to the flag-officers would be thrown on the market at a cheap rate, and would spoil the sale of those that they themselves had brought from india. the outcry on all hands was loud, and the king was beset with complaints. according to the regular practice of all his family, he threw over the servant of whose action he had just approved so soon as it seemed likely to cause him any personal inconvenience. the goods distributed to the flag-officers were seized at the ports by orders of albemarle, who, partly by virtue of his office as lord general, and partly on the ground of the immense services he had rendered at the restoration, exercised a vast irregular influence during the early years of king charles's reign. the duke of york, who, as lord high admiral, had good ground for considering himself personally insulted by an insolent intrusion on the rights of his office, was furious. sandwich was dismissed from his command, and had no further employment in this war, though he retained sufficient influence with the king to be appointed to diplomatic missions abroad. this is the most favourable version of the story for sandwich, and is, even so, an ugly symptom of the dry-rot beginning to spread throughout every branch of the public service. the sailors of the fleet were months in arrear of their pay. the victualling service was thoroughly bad. even when food was supplied, it was of most inferior quality, and there were loud complaints that, such as it was, it was not always forthcoming. when sandwich returned from the coast of norway to solebay, his provisions were exhausted, although he had only been a few weeks at sea. at such a time a zealous commander-in-chief would surely not have seized the opportunity to enrich himself irregularly. sandwich, judged by the standard of the time, was not a dishonourable man, yet we see that he went out of his way to grasp at a little money. his recorded conversations with pepys leave no doubt that sandwich was distinctly influenced by a desire to fill his own pocket. he told his kinsman that it was better to take the money, and then get the king's consent to keep it, than to trust to obtaining what the king had promised he should have. another remark of his throws a curious light on the morality of the time. he told pepys that the king of denmark was "a blockhead," for not seizing the opportunity of plundering the dutch fleet at bergen, since he owed the states a great sum of money. these were the principles of a swindler, and a man who took such a very lax view with regard to the conduct of others was not likely to be severe to himself. as a matter of fact, we learn again from pepys that the £ worth of goods the earl had adjudged to himself were sold to a london merchant for £ . when, then, pepys observed, as he did about this time, that, however poor the king might be, his principal officers always took care to provide money for themselves, he was making a very accurate remark on the morality of the time. it is not wonderful, when we consider the example that was set them, that the captains and seamen, who had raised such an outcry over the favours shown to the flag-officers, were themselves accused of plundering the prizes. plunder, in fact, was the general rule of the service. it raged from top to bottom. the men at the head enriched themselves by misapplications of money on a large scale. the subordinates pilfered and wasted. it follows, as a matter of course, that the money voted by parliament for the war, which in the hands of the commonwealth's council of state or of cromwell would have been more than sufficient, failed entirely to meet the expenses of the second dutch war. neither need we doubt that pepys was very well informed when he said that the court looked forward to another meeting of parliament with reluctance, and stood in some awe of the wrath that members were likely to feel upon discovering what had become of their money. the difficulties which the government had created for itself by mismanagement were materially increased by the plague, which raged all through the year . it reached not only the dockyards on the thames, but the ports on the east coast, the channel, and even the fleet. between the disorganisation produced by the great pest and the vices of its own administration, the crown was all but within reach of bankruptcy by the close of the year. at harvest-time the workmen in the dockyards had been so long left without pay that numbers of them went into the fields to work for the farmers in order to escape starvation. the winter months suspended the operations of the war, but with the return of spring efforts were made to get the fleet to sea. as sandwich had been discredited, and since the duke of york was so ready to co-operate with those who were so concerned about his personal safety, it was necessary to find another leader. the king must have been allowed to have made the best choice he could when he put his fleet into the hands of monk. the lord general had a reputation and an influence which made it certain that he would be obeyed by all. he had much experience of war at sea, and he had the energy of a great commander. by desperate efforts a fleet of seventy-seven sail was collected in the downs in the course of may. rupert was joined in command with monk. the prince had shown a decided reluctance to serve with sandwich, but he could not refuse to act with the lord general. the dutch had exerted themselves strenuously to meet the english on equal terms, and a fleet of from eighty to a hundred ships was collected and ready for sea under michael de ruyter. our enemy had some faint prospect of assistance from france in this campaign. in john de witt had succeeded in making a convention with france, by which the two countries agreed to help one another in case either of them was attacked by a third power. the case contemplated by the treaty had arisen when england declared war on holland in . the states general called on louis xiv. to fulfil his obligations. the french king shuffled and hung back. he hated the dutch, partly because they were republicans, and partly because he knew them to be the most formidable obstacle in the way of the realisation of his plans for the conquest of the spanish netherlands. at last he could no longer evade making at least a show of fulfilling his promises without absolute disgrace, and he therefore promised to send a squadron to co-operate with the dutch against the english. when, therefore, monk began to collect his command in may, he had to face the possibility that he would be called upon to deal with the united dutch and french fleets. the movements of michael de ruyter were consistent with the supposition that he was manoeuvring to join the french. he stood across to the coast of england, and kept in the neighbourhood of the straits of dover. a rumour that the french fleet was coming up channel worked so strongly on the fears of the court, that it was induced to take a measure which might well have proved fatal to the english fleet. rupert was despatched into the channel with twenty ships selected from the other squadrons, to look for the french, and monk's force was thus reduced to fifty-seven vessels. some changes in the commands were made necessary by this separation. sir christopher myngs, who had been vice-admiral of the red squadron, accompanied rupert as second in command. the ships which remained with monk were still divided into three squadrons. sir joseph jordan succeeded myngs as vice-admiral of the red, and his rear-admiral was sir robert holmes. the blue squadron was commanded by sir george ayscue as admiral, with sir william berkeley as vice, and john harman as rear. sir jeremiah smith was admiral, sir thomas teddiman vice-admiral, and captain utber rear-admiral of the white. this division of the english fleet seems to have taken place just before a spell of thick weather and heavy wind from the s.w., which forced the dutch off the coast. being afraid that the wind would sweep him back too far into the north sea, de ruyter anchored on the shallows of the flemish coast somewhere between ostend and dunkirk. this was at the very end of may. on the last day of the month monk was at sea, on his way from the downs to the gunfleet, when his look-out frigates brought him the news that the dutch were at anchor in his neighbourhood. monk, with the instinct of a general, saw at once that, being superior to him in number, and in his immediate neighbourhood, the dutch might force on a battle to his disadvantage if they once got the weather-gage. the then direction of the wind from the s.w. gave the weather-gage to him, and, with a boldness which would have horrified the admirals of the next two generations, he decided to fall on while it was still in his power to select his point of attack, and thus to compensate for his general inferiority of numbers by concentrating a superior force at a given place. the battles which followed make up among them the so-called "four days' battle" of the annus mirabilis, . the first encounter took place somewhere between the flemish coast from ostend to dunkirk on one side, and the northern end of the downs on the other. the dutch had anchored in three divisions some little distance at sea. they lay stretching from s.w. to n.e. the south-westerly squadron was that of van tromp; next to him, towards the n.e., was the division of de ruyter; and farther still to the n.e., the squadron of jan evertszoon. as the wind was in the s.w., de ruyter and evertszoon were to the leeward of tromp. this disposition afforded monk exactly the opportunity he sought. coming down from the w. or n.w., on friday the st june, he directed his attack on the squadron of van tromp. the english fleet was on the starboard tack--that is to say, it had the wind on the right side, and was heading to the s.e. it passed well clear of the centre of the dutch line, and therefore at a greater distance from the squadron of evertszoon, in order to fall with all its strength on the ships of tromp. the english line was in beautiful order, but, as was commonly the case, the ships in the rear had a tendency to straggle. the distance between them and the leading vessel was so great, that when the ships at the head of monk's line were abreast of tromp, those at the rear were barely visible to observers on the decks of the dutch. tromp, on being attacked, immediately cut his cables and stood to the south. the battle began at about three o'clock in the afternoon, and for some time the two fleets ran on cannonading one another. but their course, if followed far enough, would have stranded both of them near dunkirk. both tromp and monk therefore reversed their course almost simultaneously, and, instead of standing to the s., turned towards the n. or n.n.e. in the course of these movements the lines had come very close together, and the english, acting on their usual rule of pressing an attack home, had stood down on the dutch. several english ships broke through the dutch line, and among them were the two admirals, sir william berkeley and harman of the blue division. berkeley was the brother of the lord falmouth killed in the battle of the rd of june in the previous year. his vessel, the =swiftsure=, being cut off for a time from all english support, was attacked by several dutch ships at once and overpowered. she surrendered, but not until she was completely cut to pieces and the admiral had fallen. he had been struck in the heat of the action by a musket bullet in the throat, and, staggering into the captain's cabin, fell dead on the table, where he was discovered lifeless and covered by his blood when the dutch took possession of his ship. harman, who had been in equal danger, fought his way through. his vessel caught fire, and a panic spread among the crew. harman, who looks in his portrait by lely a man of a singularly fierce type, restored order by his example and a vigorous use of his sword. the fire was got under, but the fall of a topsail yard broke the admiral's leg. he did not leave the deck, and, when hailed by a dutch officer to surrender, only answered, "no, no; it has not come to that yet." the fire of his broadside was severe enough to make the dutchmen sheer off, and harman rejoined his fleet. as the english fleet stood back, de ruyter had worked sufficiently far to windward to bring his ships into action. joining with van tromp, he made an attack with superior numbers on the end of monk's line. it was here that the fight was hottest, and the loss most severe. the last of the twilight had come before fire ceased, but as the darkness fell the dutch could see monk leading his line, little diminished in number, and still in excellent order, seaward to the west. this was the fortune of the first day of the four days' battle. the english had suffered, but they had shown themselves the better fighters and manoeuvrers. the dutch must have been depressed by finding how little their superiority of numbers had availed them. yet all had not done equally well on the side of the english. the anxieties of the last few days had made the court very anxious to know what was happening with the fleet. sir thomas clifford was sent to gain information. embarking at harwich in a small vessel, in company with lord ossory, the gallant son of the duke of ormonde, he joined monk on the nd june. we are told by him that there were at that time only thirty-five ships with the english admiral, and that this weakness was due to the desertion of some of the smaller vessels. bad example, bad pay, bad food were beginning to produce their effect; and although there were many of a higher courage, and some who, although greedy and unscrupulous, were yet personally brave, there were others in our fleet who were beginning to imitate the conduct of those dutch captains chastised by de witt. men who do not scruple to steal may be brave, yet it is not unnatural that one kind of dishonesty should lead to another, and that the captain who got his command by bribery, and made it pay by pilfering, should have no scruple about deserting his post. the battle had begun on saturday the nd of june before ossory and clifford reached monk's flagship, the =royal charles=. it had been in progress since eight o'clock in the morning. when day broke, the two were in sight of one another, the english to the west of the dutch, and both somewhere between ostend and the north foreland. the dutch were rather to the south, and, as the wind was still at s.s.w., a little to windward. the two fleets stood towards one another, and the english ships, being the sharper built and more weatherly, gained the weather-gage from the dutch--that is to say, the two lines met at a very obtuse angle, the english crossing the course of the dutch, and passing to the south of them, then they curved inwards, and the two lines crossed on opposite tacks, cannonading as they went by. the ships in the rear of the dutch line were commanded in this battle by van tromp. seeing that as the english turned in they had fallen off the wind, he tacked to gain the weather-gage upon them, and thus separated himself from the bulk of de ruyter's fleet. at the same time, or very shortly afterwards, some of the vessels in the van of the dutch line behaved in a fashion which shows that the executions of the previous summer had not yet produced the full effect desired. they turned before the wind and fairly ran. thus de ruyter found himself left at the same moment by his rear through the wilfulness of one admiral, and by his van through the misconduct of others. he had but a choice of evils, and of these he probably chose the less when he bore up and went to leeward for the purpose of overtaking the runaways, and bringing the bulk of his fleet again into order. yet he gave monk an extraordinarily fine opportunity of cutting off the squadron of van tromp. the english chief had only to pass to leeward of the dutchman, and he must separate him from the bulk of his fleet. probably because he believed that the weather-gage was the more advantageous position of the two, monk did not take this course. at least it appears that the english passed to windward of tromp. in the meantime, de ruyter, having recalled the runaway van ships, reversed his course and stood back to the assistance of his self-willed and unruly subordinate. the two divisions of the dutch fleet were allowed to rejoin, and they remained to leeward of us huddled in a confused body. there was at this point a pause in the battle. it may be that the english had defects to make good in their spars and rigging, for the dutch, according to their usual custom, fired high. perhaps monk was so conscious of his inferiority of numbers that he did not care to entangle himself too far. de ruyter was allowed to restore order in his line, and then, during the last hours of the day, the fleets again passed on opposite tacks, and the battle ended in an ineffectual cannonade. the absence of prince rupert had been acutely felt during this prolonged conflict. monk had fought with a remarkable combination of intrepidity and skill, but, though he had inflicted severe punishment on the enemy, he could not but know that he was much weakened by loss and desertion. if rupert did not return shortly, and the wind were to shift to the n. or n.e., he might have the whole dutch fleet on his hands when it would be no longer possible for him to pick his own point of attack. on the sunday, then, he decided to retire into the thames. selecting sixteen of his best and strongest vessels, he arranged them in a line abreast--that is to say, side by side, stretched from north to south. the injured and the weaker ships were placed in front, and the whole body retired together towards the river. the dutch pursued, but not with much energy, or at least at no great rate of speed. if it had not been for an error of judgment, and, i am afraid we must add, a certain want of nerve on the part of sir george ayscue, it would seem that the retreat might have been successfully effected with very little loss. sir george had his flag in the =prince=, which was counted the finest ship in the english fleet. her place was on the extreme right, or northern end of monk's line. it was of course desirable to place powerful ships at the extremities, in case the enemies should attempt to turn them. the approach to the thames is made difficult by successive rows of shallows: one of these is the galloper sand, a long and narrow shoal lying n.e. of the north foreland, and stretching from e. of n. to w. of s., and directly opposite the coast of essex between walton-on-the-naze and clacton. the pilot of the =prince=, or whoever else directed her navigation, miscalculated her room, and the vessel ran on the southern end of the sand. a few of the other ships touched, but were got off. this accident was instantly seen by both fleets. the dutch crowded on, under the immediate direction of van tromp, to attack the stranded vessel. the english turned for her support, but, before they could render any effectual assistance, sir george ayscue had surrendered. he was severely blamed for want of spirit, perhaps unjustly; and yet we cannot but believe that if the =prince= had carried the flag of sir john harman, she would have made a longer and perhaps a successful resistance, for she was a heavily-armed vessel of ninety guns. the loss of the =prince= was made the more exasperating to the english by the long-desired appearance of rupert, who was seen coming past the north foreland with his twenty fresh ships, pressing on to rejoin monk. the reinforcement came, however, too late to save the =prince=. at the sight of rupert's flag the dutch did indeed give up all hope of carrying her off. they removed her officers and crew, and set her on fire. she burned in the sight of the english fleet. monk's often-proved valour and strength of character were never more conspicuous than now. after three such days the most stout-hearted of men might have thought that enough had been done for honour. but the lord general was resolved to fight again. he anchored for the night, and on monday, the th of june according to the old calendar and the th according to ours, got under way to engage the enemy once more. the dutch also had anchored, and when they got under way they stood on the port tack with the wind still from the south. the english headed in the same direction, and, being the more weatherly vessels, forced a close action. each fleet had fought well on the three previous days, but on this last they may be said to have thrown away the scabbard. the english, holding their wind, endeavoured to force their way through the dutch line, and, where their enemies were leewardly ships, or ill-handled, they succeeded. the furious mêlée lasted for hours, and rupert's squadron fought as if it was its purpose to make up for absence on the previous days. at the end of hours of conflict the two fleets were broken in confused masses, the dutch to windward here, and the english to windward there. a portion of the english had headed the dutch line: they were pursued by some of the dutch; while in the meantime the battle in the centre and the rear was raging between de ruyter and monk, the dutch admiral being still to windward. van tromp, with all the energy and more than the judgment he had displayed on the second day of battle, recalled the pursuers, and, joining them to his own ships, fell on the main body of the english on the opposite side to that on which they were engaged with de ruyter. this was the last phase of the long and desperate struggle. monk was for a time in great peril, surrounded by enemies, and deprived of all support from his own side, but he broke his way through. even when the fight had clearly gone against them, the english had sold their defeat dear. their fireships had destroyed two of the enemy, nor had any english vessel struck till she had exacted her full price from the dutch. night, a fog, and fatigue on both sides ended the four days' battle. the english retired into the river, the dutch remained outside for a short time, and then returned to refit. the four days' battle bears a certain resemblance to blake's engagement with martin tromp near dungeness. it was a defeat, but one which did nothing to diminish the pride of the english seamen or their belief in their inherent superiority to the dutch. we had fought against superior numbers by our own choice, frequently with success, and never with what could be called rout. at the close we had lost some twenty vessels, and a number of men estimated by various authorities from to in killed and wounded. one admiral had died, and a score of captains were slain or wounded. our fleet had retired into the river, and the enemy was left for a space with the sea clear, but his own injuries were so serious that he could make no other immediate use of his victory than to return home and make ready for the next battle, which he knew well that the english would be ready to offer him before many weeks were over. the effect produced in london and at court by the news of this great battle is audible to us now in the diary of pepys. he is a very unsafe authority for the truth of any particular statement, for he heard all the gossip of the day and noted it down as it came. yet, for that very reason, he is an invaluable witness to the fluctuations of the feelings of his contemporaries. we can trust him thoroughly when he reports how all the world rejoiced in this new victory over the dutch, until it learned that we had been defeated, and that de ruyter was for the moment master of the thames. his diary records the contradictory rumours of the day, and also the complaints of monk's rashness, and the sneers at the misconduct of this or that officer--the snarling and tittle-tattle of the lower deck and the ward-room. this, also, is not without its value as evidence. it was ominous of that fall in the spirit and vigour of the navy which was to come in the next generation, that men were found to blame monk for giving battle to superior numbers. the evil of the time was the gradual debauching of the spirit of the nation by self-seeking and corruption, and it is visible on every other page of pepys. we find him recording that captains were suspected of deserting their admiral without incurring any particular shame. he himself, though patriotic and zealous for the king's service in his way, did not allow the disasters of the fleet to interfere with his innumerable little schemes for increasing that comfortable private fortune whose growth he records with such unfeigned satisfaction; and if others differed from him, it was in being less patriotic and much more self-seeking. it is to pepys that we owe our knowledge of one of the most heroic scenes of the time. sir christopher myngs, rupert's second in command, had fallen mortally wounded on the last of the four days' battle. he had been shot in the throat, and had held the wound together with his fingers till a second shot disabled him completely. it was at first not supposed that his hurt was mortal, but he died within a few days of the battle. the council of state had buried deane, and cromwell had buried blake, in henry vii.'s chapel with splendour. the king allowed sir christopher myngs to be carried to his grave unattended, except by sir william coventry, who went out of spontaneous good feeling, and by pepys, who went because sir william coventry was going. these were the only official representatives of the nation at the funeral of sir christopher myngs, but there were others who of their own free will came to do honour to the stout-hearted seaman in the name of the navy. pepys records how, on leaving the church, he had the sentimental pleasure of witnessing a truly touching scene: "one of the most romantique that ever i heard of in my life, and could not have believed, but that i did see it, which was this:--about a dozen able, lusty, proper men come to the coach side with tears in their eyes, and one of them that spoke for the rest began and says to sir w. coventry, 'we are here a dozen of us that have long known and loved and served our dead commander, sir christopher myngs, and have now done the last office of laying him in the ground. we would be glad we had any other to offer after him, and in revenge of him. all we have is our lives; if you will please to get his royal highness to give us a fireship among us all, here is a dozen of us, out of all which choose you one to be commander, and the rest of us, whoever he is, will serve him; and, if possible, do that that shall show our memory of our dead commander, and our revenge.'" sir william coventry was much moved, and mr. pepys even shed tears, but we do not learn that anything effectual was done. at the time when sir christopher myngs was allowed to go to his grave neglected, the young captains who owed their commands to court influence incurred no punishment for deserting their admiral in battle. nobody denied that the impunity permitted to such misconduct as this was an evil. sir william coventry knew as well as any man how inferior the new captains were to the old, and foresaw what the consequences of employing them must be. before the second war with holland he had been in the habit of denouncing the little service the cavalier captains could do to the king. the evil was not that they were cavaliers, but that they got their places for any reason on earth except fitness to hold them. neither sir william coventry nor any other man, but one, could have provided a remedy. the king could indeed have made all right, but he would not. he could not give up his idle, pleasure-seeking life in order to work at his business of king, and he would not annoy his friends and courtiers by allowing their relations and protégés to be punished. thus the whole standard of conduct and discipline in the navy was degraded. the king himself was growing tired of the war, which had brought him neither profit nor popularity, and within a few months he was about to take a series of steps for the purpose of obtaining peace, which brought such a disgrace on the nation as it had never suffered before, and has never been called upon to endure since. chapter xii from the four days' battle till the end of the war authorities.--the same as for the previous chapter, with the addition of the parliamentary history for the debates in the house, and the calendar of colonial papers for transactions in the west indies. honour and interest made it necessary to try to wipe off the discredit of the late defeat. the nation had been so deeply moved that it would probably have been dangerous for the king to meet parliament if this duty was neglected. in spite, therefore, of the disturbance caused by the plague, strenuous efforts were made to get a new fleet ready for sea, and they were not unsuccessful. the patriotism of the nation did something to supply resources. even the courtiers, in a spasm of virtue, agreed to subscribe in order to supply a vessel to replace =the prince=. volunteers were found for the navy, in spite of the unpopularity brought on the service by bad pay and bad food. what was not done by voluntary offer was done by the unsparing use of the press. so zealous were some of the officers entrusted with this duty, that the pressmen at gravesend offered to press sir edward seymour. a suspicion that this zeal was at least partly dictated by a desire to extort a bribe, is justified by stories reported from other quarters. there were loud complaints of the quality of the men sent into the fleet. some of the king's officers had no hesitation in describing the bulk of them as worthless, miserable creatures. at the same time, it was alleged that in some of the out-ports hundreds of stout seamen were walking the streets unmolested. it would be strange if the only incorruptible persons at that time had been the officers conducting the press, and we are quite entitled to take it for granted that the work was often done after the immortal pattern supplied by sir john falstaff. bullcalf, who could pay, was let off, while wart and feeble, who could not pay, were taken. the dutch, who, in spite of some bragging on our side, had suffered less than ourselves in the four days' battle, were at sea a month before our fleet could leave the thames. as early as the th of june their ships were seen off the north foreland, engaged in picking up the anchors they had left when attacked by monk on the st of the month. after thriftily recovering their lost property, they stood into the estuary of the thames and cruised between margate and the gunfleet. in london the air was full of rumours of their insolence, and ostentatious enjoyment of their victory. it was said, falsely, that sir george ayscue was treated with insult, and there was another story, no better founded, that the body of sir william berkeley was exposed in a sugar-chest, with his flag beside him. stories of this kind stimulated the desire of the nation to see the fleet again ready for sea. indeed, there were other and stronger reasons for exertion. the danger of invasion was real. if the king of france had been honestly anxious to press the war against england, it is almost certain that a french army might have been landed in kent. we had absolutely no force ready to interfere with the operations of the dutch fleet. it could have shipped any number of men the french king could supply, and might have landed them pretty much where it pleased. but louis was already contemplating an attack on the spanish netherlands, and was looking forward to secure the co-operation of the king of england. he declined to make an irreparable breach with his brother sovereign for the sake of the republic, which he knew to be in reality his most serious opponent. therefore, although rumours of the coming of french troops were rife in england, and although our cruisers were active in taking french prizes, there was no attempt at an invasion, and king louis made no effectual effort to help the dutch. while the unprepared state of the english fleet caused a pause in the great operations of war, the smaller cruisers were tolerably active on both sides. the feats of single ships are not recorded so fully at this time as later, but traces remain which show that captains of spirit were active. we hear, for instance, of a desperate action between a french east indiaman and an english frigate, the =orange=. the fight had been so hot that the frenchman was in a sinking state when the english took possession of him. here we have another example of the discipline of the time. the english prize-crew fell to rifling the frenchman's hold, and were so intent on this occupation that they forgot to stop the leaks. the result was, that the frenchman went to the bottom, carrying forty of his captors with him. the incident is typical. in small things as in great, it was then the rule that what was won by valour and conduct in battle was lost by greed and self-seeking afterwards. another incident of the time illustrates the fall in the level of national courage. some gentlemen belonging to the county of essex had banded themselves together to act as a bodyguard to the deputy-lieutenant, who was engaged in collecting the militia to resist the threatened dutch invasion. being on the sea-coast, and finding a small armed galliot belonging to the king at hand, they were fired with ambition to go out and have a brush with the dutch. the commander of the galliot, who seems to have been a man of some humour, was prepared to indulge them. they ran to sea, and soon found themselves in the immediate neighbourhood of a dutch look-out vessel. the captain of the galliot attacked at once with so much zeal that he soon came within musket-shot of the enemy. this was more than the doughty bodyguard of the deputy-lieutenant had bargained for. they were seized with an extreme panic, and insisted upon being taken back. the captain of the galliot refused, alleging that he would be hanged if he returned for no better reason. the country gentlemen replied that their lives were of more value than his, since some of them were even knights. even this appeal to the respect he owed his betters had no effect upon the mind of the skipper of the galliot. at last the terrified squires and knights had recourse to a more persuasive line of reasoning. they offered him a bribe in the shape of a handsome piece of plate. this was probably what the captain had been aiming at all the time. the informer who sent this story to mr. secretary williamson added that it had better not be put in the gazette as an example of english valour; and yet, if accompanied by judicious comment, it might have had considerable value. the fleet which was to revenge us on the dutch was collected, during the latter days of june and the early days of july, at the nore. the command was still in the hands of monk and rupert, though the death of myngs and berkeley, the capture of ayscue, and the wound of harman, had made some changes in the subordinate places necessary. the total force of the fleet was put at eighty-seven ships and the fireships. the numbers might have been higher, but the admirals decided to take the crews out of fifteen of the smaller vessels and distribute them among the larger. our ships had never been so strongly manned in mere numbers before. the spirit of the men was good, and it must in justice be allowed that the courtiers set a very honourable example. they flocked into the fleet to take part in the coming battle; even the notorious rochester, who was one of the worst men of that or any other time, went as a volunteer with sir edward spragge. one gentleman, sir robert leach by name, had been told in a dream that he would kill de ruyter with a "fusee," _i.e._ fowling-piece, and he came to the ship of sir robert holmes to fulfil the prophecy. holmes promised to take him near enough to prove the truth of his dream. it was on the th of july that the fleet began to drop down from the nore. several channels lead out from this anchorage to the open sea. immediately below the nore is the warp, from which the west swin branches out on the left as you go to the n.e., the barrow deep is to the right, and then the oaze deep beyond it. the tangle of shallows at the mouth of the thames is traversed by navigable channels running in different directions. several of these had not been surveyed in the time of charles ii., and it is therefore not necessary to mention more for the purpose of explaining the movements of the fleet than those that were then in general use. it must be remembered that the coast of essex is fringed by shallows. at the very mouth of the river, beginning above shoeburyness, are the maplin sands, north and a little east of the maplin sands is foulness sand, and north of that again buxey. in the seventeenth century these were called the rolling grounds. from the north-east corner of buxey stretches out the gunfleet, which itself runs towards the north-east. the navigable passage which goes along these three channels is called, after it leaves the warp, just opposite the maplin sands, first the west swin, then the east swin. here a narrow shallow called the middle ground divides it from the middle deep. at the end of the middle ground the east swin and middle deep join together to make the king's channel, which flows past the gunfleet and leads into the open sea. the right-hand side of this channel is formed, at the place where it is called the west swin, by the shallows known as the west barrow, the barrow, and the east barrow. the barrow channel is on the other side of this shallow. both run from s.w. to n.e. on the right hand as you go out of barrow deep are the oaze, the nob, the north nob, the barrow ridge, the knock john, and then the sunk: all these have the same general direction as the barrow. on the eastern side of the shallows, beginning at the oaze deep and flowing on till it mingles in the king's channel at the sunk head, is the black deep, the main channel into and out of the thames. on the right-hand side of the black deep, going out, is the long sand, which is fairly described by its name. this also stretches from s.w. to n.e. between the south-west end of the long sand and the coast of kent are the girdler, the kentish flats, the margate sands, and a host of confusing shallows and channels, not necessary to be specified. outside and on the east of the long sand is the knock deep, and then the kentish knock. this was the scene of the first battle of the first dutch war. a line drawn straight south from the kentish knock would strike on the goodwin sands. at flood-tide there is a strong current which runs through these channels and over these sands, towards london. at the ebb the current is in the reverse direction. now it will be obvious that the difficulty of bringing a fleet of sailing ships from the nore to the north sea through all these obstructions to navigation is great, and that the difficulty may grow into a very serious danger if there is an enemy waiting outside. to carry the ships out in one tide from the warp through the swin or barrow into the king's channel, or through the black deep into the open sea, required a combination, of either a good breeze and an ebb-tide, or such a strong wind from the west, with a flood-tide, as would enable a fleet to make head against the current. the difficulties of an approach to the black deep are so serious, in consequence of the numerous little sands lying at the entry to it, that it was decided in july to take the fleet out by the swin, but this had necessarily to be done at one tide. de ruyter was cruising between the long sand and the naze, with an advanced detachment of ships at the gunfleet. if, then, the english fleet, in coming through the swin, had been caught by the turn of the tide at a moment when part of the fleet had passed and the other had not, that portion of it which was still dropping down the channel might be stopped until the next tide. in the meantime, those which had already passed might be subject to an attack by the whole force of de ruyter coming on with the flood-tide. from this it could only escape by running back into the swin, a very dangerous operation for vessels in a narrow tideway under the fire of enemies. before, then, attempting to issue from the sea reach swin and middle deep into the king's channel, it was necessary to be sure that the wind would be strong enough to enable the whole fleet to get out together on one ebb-tide. the opportunity did not present itself until the st of july. before that, the ships were making their way down as far as the middle ground. here they anchored in a body on the th. sir thomas clifford, who was again with the fleet, and the generals monk and rupert in their flagship, the =royal charles=, wrote a stirring description to lord arlington of the spectacle presented by this great fleet, stretching along for nine or ten miles as it worked its way down the channel. the length of the long column of ships working through the fairway constituted the difficulty of getting them out in one tide. clifford reported that the fleet was in high spirits, and had prepared for serious work. the cabins were pulled down, and the decks clear. even the common men were full of spirit, declaring that "if we do not beat them now, we never shall." yet we can understand the anxiety of the generals. for two days the fleet lay at the middle ground. the wind was still too much from the north to afford a reasonable security of clearing the narrow passages between the east barrow and foulness. on the nd it had shifted sufficiently to the west to allow the fleet to get under way. monk and rupert were on deck all day, and, so sir thomas clifford reports, "sometimes a little rough with the pilots" in their impatience at the hesitations of the technical man. captain elliot led the van of eleven ships and eight or nine fireships, in the =revenge=, with orders to fall upon the dutch advance guard if they did not retire from the gunfleet. if the work had not been done "in the nick," it would not have been done at all. but done it was, and on the evening of the nd we anchored at the buoy of the gunfleet. the dutch advance squadron weighed anchor and stood out to the n. of e. as we came on. the bulk of the dutch fleet, with de ruyter, was riding at the naze. another english vessel, the =rupert=, joined the fleet here from harwich. on the morning of the rd, both fleets weighed anchor. the dutch were farther out than the english, and a little to the south of them. monk and rupert desired to force an action at once, but the enemy worked away to the southward, and could not be brought to battle. our fleet had started beating drums and preparing for action, with the pomp and circumstance beloved by the fighting men of former times. the wind was light, and fell before evening almost to a calm, so that we anchored at dark on the outskirts of the shallows of the thames estuary. the fall of the wind was followed by a violent gale, which raged all through the night and the early hours of the th of july. the jersey was struck by lightning, and so disabled that she was compelled to make her way to harwich. her captain, digby, pleaded to stay as a volunteer in the flagship, but was ordered to go with his ship. towards the afternoon the wind moderated, the fleet weighed anchor and again moved in pursuit of the dutch, of whom it had lost sight during the previous evening. little progress was made, and the generals anchored at nightfall eight leagues east of the naze. it is possible that de ruyter, who had fallen back on the rd, returned when the gale had exhausted its force. for on the morning of the th he was seen to the south of the english fleet. the generals had again got under way at two o'clock in the morning, and at daybreak the dutch were seen to leeward of the english. from the account given in brandt's _life of michael de ruyter_, of the council of war held on board the _seven provinces_, it appears that the dutch had decided to accept battle to leeward. in strength the fleets about to engage were almost exactly equal. the fleet of the united provinces consisted of seventy-three warships, and twenty-six frigates and look-out vessels, with twenty fireships. it was divided into three squadrons. the van was under the command of lieutenant-admiral jan evertszoon. the second in command under evertszoon was lieutenant-admiral tjerk hiddes de vries. the third was vice-admiral bankert, the fourth vice-admiral koenders, and there were under them two officers known by a title peculiar to the dutch navy--that of _schoutbynacht_, of which the literal meaning is the command-by-night. it answered to the rear-admiral of our navy. their names were evertszoon and brunsvelt. jan evertszoon, though equal in rank to de ruyter, carried a flag, of which the dutch name is _wimpel_, at the foremast, as his actual office was only that of leader of the van. de ruyter commanded in the centre. his second in command was the lieutenant-admiral van nes. his third was vice-admiral de liefde, his fourth the schoutbynacht, jan van nes. de ruyter's flag was at the mainmast; the rear was commanded by tromp; lieutenant-admiral meppel, vice-admirals van schram and sveers, with w. van der zaan and g't hoen in the rank of schoutbynacht. tromp, as commander of the rear, had the wimpel at the mizen. the strength of the english fleet was put in the official account at ninety, but it appears really to have consisted of ninety-two ships fit to lie in a line of battle. we did not as yet distinguish between battleships and light ships, and in fact there were fewer of the latter with us than with the dutch, so that the ninety-two of the english were equal in effective strength to the ninety-nine of the dutch. our fireships were seventeen in number. the van of the english fleet--that is to say, the white division--was commanded by sir thomas allen, with sir thomas teddiman as vice-admiral, and captain utbar as rear. the rear, or blue division, was commanded by sir jeremy smith, with sir edward spragge as vice-admiral, and kempthorne was rear-admiral. the red or central division was under the direct command of the generals, monk and rupert, who were together in the flagship, the =royal charles=. sir joseph jordan was vice-admiral, and sir robert holmes rear-admiral. though the enemy had been sighted at daybreak, the battle did not begin until nine or ten o'clock; both hours are mentioned by eye-witnesses, and it may be that neither is quite accurate. estimates of time taken in such circumstances, and hurriedly reported after a battle, can hardly be minutely accurate. the english fleet bore down on the dutch in a line abreast from the north-west, sailing on the port tack. they stood on their course till they were parallel with the enemy, and then bore up all together, and engaged him from end to end of the line. sir thomas allen in command of the white squadron engaged the dutch van under the command of evertszoon. the red squadron came into action with de ruyter, and sir jeremy smith with cornelius van tromp. in accordance with an almost universal experience, the rear division of the english was in some disorder when it engaged tromp. part of the ships were out of their place, with the result that some of them were under the fire of the dutch before the others. for five hours the action raged with very equal fortunes. we do not hear of any manoeuvres on either side, unless it be in the boast of the english that they engaged the enemy so close as to give him no opportunity to tack. as the afternoon wore on, the english began to gain the upper hand. the dutch van and centre began to flinch, and fall away to leeward. in the rear the course of battle had been somewhat different. sir jeremy's smith's squadron was considered weaker than the other two. as it was not inferior in numbers to the centre, this estimate was probably made to console the national complacency for the failure of the squadron, which might be sufficiently accounted for by the disordered state of the english ships at the beginning of the battle. tromp, who at all times showed a wilful preference for acting by himself, took advantage of his comparative success against the blue squadron to break away from his admiral. when de ruyter and evertszoon fell away to leeward, he did not follow them, but remained closely engaged with the english rear. thus the battle broke into two, the dutch van and centre retreating towards their own coast, with the english red and white squadrons in pursuit, whilst the dutch rear division and the english blue squadron remained behind, cannonading one another with fairly equal fortunes. by the time that de ruyter and evertszoon were undeniably in retreat, it was almost dark. the night put a stop to the battle. next day, the th of july, the wind had almost fallen to a calm, and the two fleets remained within sight of one another, but neither able to move except at a very slow rate. prince rupert took advantage of the helplessness of the enemy to play off a piece of bravado on de ruyter. he had bought a little sailing-yacht, which he named the =fan-fan=, and towed about with him behind the flagship. she carried two toy pop-guns for ornament. a little craft of this kind could be easily handled in breezes which produced no effect on the bulk of the _seven provinces_. rupert sent her out with orders to take her place opposite the stern of de ruyter's flagship and fire into her, by way of insult and derision. the calm was so great that the little =fan-fan= was able to enjoy the amusement of banging away at the big dutchman with her pop-guns for two hours, before the enemy was able to move. at last the breeze got up again. the =fan-fan= ran back into our fleet, and the pursuit was resumed. de ruyter kept in the rear of his flying fleet, gallantly supported by some of his captains. the historian of his life says that in his anguish he called for death, and regretted that none of the many bullets flying about had struck him. at last, on the evening of the th, the dutch ran into the shallow water near flushing, and so escaped. the english fleet anchored outside. while two-thirds of the fleet on either side were drifting or sailing towards flushing, cornelius van tromp and sir jeremy smith were fighting their detached action on their own account. during the night of the th the sound of their guns was heard by ships at anchor off flushing. the english fleet got under way and stood out in the hopes of intercepting the dutch rear division. it would have added immensely to the glory of the victory if they could have carried out their purpose. only four prizes had been taken on the th, and against this we have to set off the loss of one vessel of our own, the _resolution_. tromp had with him twenty-five battleships, six frigates, and eight fireships. if their road home could have been barred by the white and red squadrons at a time when sir jeremy smith was pressing on them from behind, it is probable that every one of the thirty-nine might have fallen into our hands, and then the disaster to holland would have been crushing. in the hope of fulfilling their triumph on this splendid scale, the english fleet stood out to sea on the th of july. the wind was at the n.e. tromp and smith were seen far out, engaged with one another. the white and red squadrons stood out until they were opposite to tromp, and then tacked to put themselves in the direction he was following, and bar his road home. it was maintained at the time that if the admiral of the blue had handled his squadron with spirit, he would have driven tromp into the bulk of the english fleet. he was violently accused not only of incompetence, but of personal cowardice. the latter accusation may be dismissed as being only a form of calumny common at that time, but it does seem that smith showed some want of skill. he might have excused himself by alleging that he had done as well as anybody else. the two generals who directed the fleet had little right to complain of the mismanagement of a subordinate officer. with the wind in the n.e., they surely had it in their power to force an action with tromp. they were to windward, and he was making his way homeward against the wind. yet they were content to lie in wait for the dutchmen at the point to which they took it for granted he would be driven by the blue division. the upshot of it was that he slipped between the two. during the night of the th the blue squadron lost sight of the enemy, and tromp, skilfully avoiding the white and red squadrons, joined de ruyter in harbour. although the battle had produced few prizes, and the escape of tromp had shorn it of its hoped-for fair proportions, it was the subject of great and legitimate rejoicing in england. de ruyter had been driven from his cruising-ground at the mouth of the thames. we had again proved that we could overcome the dutch in battle, and were masters of the sea. monk and rupert made a vigorous use of their success. they swept along the coast of holland, driving the enemy's commerce into port, or capturing all ships that dared to remain out. an opportunity of inflicting a great blow on a dutch corporation which was regarded with peculiar animosity in england, was put in their way through the treason of a dutch officer who had been dismissed from the service. this ignoble scoundrel informed the english admirals that a number of vessels belonging to the dutch east india company were lying inside of vlieland and terschelling, two islands north of the texel and opposite the coast of friesland. there were also a number of other merchant ships, some from the baltic, and some from the coast of africa, lying in the same roadsteads. the islands of vlieland and terschelling contained large magazines belonging partly to the dutch east india company and partly to the states. here was a mass of plunder which it was neither the interest nor, indeed, the duty of the english admirals to neglect. it was decided to sail in and attack. the squadron detached for the purpose was put under the command of sir robert holmes, the rear-admiral of the red squadron. on the th of august the fleet was close to vlieland, but, the wind not being favourable for an attack on that island, it turned into the roadstead of terschelling on the th, and there destroyed one hundred and sixty merchant ships, and two men-of-war that had been told off for their convoy. to the end that the work of injuring the dutch should be done thoroughly, orders were given that the vessels captured should be fired at once, lest the temptation to look after the prizes should distract the attention of the officers and men. there was a real disinterestedness in this, for the captain who fired a richly-laden dutch merchant ship was in fact burning his own chance of a fortune. it must be put to the credit of a greedy time that these orders were thoroughly obeyed. the dutch were fired, and not taken off as prizes. on the following day a naval brigade was landed in the island of terschelling, and one of the towns was burned to the ground. the stores found in the warehouses were carried off to the ships, as some compensation to the men for the loss of the merchant ships the day before. the taking of the plunder was in accordance with the military practices of all times, but the burning of the town was a cruel act, and compares very unfavourably with the conduct of de ruyter at chatham in the following year. the loss to the dutch was estimated at £ , , . after inflicting this severe retaliation for the injury which de ruyter had caused by his occupation of the mouth of the thames, the english fleet returned home. yet the dutch were not so seriously injured but that they were at sea again within a month. the french king, provoked perhaps by the injury inflicted on the commerce of his country by english cruisers, was at last showing some serious signs of an intention to reinforce the fleet of his ally. a french squadron was sent into the channel, under the command of the duke of beaufort. the dutch, in hopes of meeting him, stood along the french coast as far as boulogne. they were at once followed by the english, under the sole command of prince rupert. the great fire of london had taken place during the interval. amid the terror and confusion it had caused, there was a loud cry for the presence of monk. the lord general was one of the few leading men of the day who had not fled from the plague. he had stood his ground, and had kept order whilst the pestilence was at its worst, showing no other sign of anxiety for his own safety than to indulge rather more than usual in his habitual practice of smoking and chewing tobacco. he chewed tobacco and spat about the deck when yardarm to yardarm with de ruyter, and he did it during the plague, to keep out the germs of death. the nation had profound confidence in the stolid courage and unfailing loyalty to duty of the man who had restored the monarchy. the scandal of the time asserted that he had been recalled from the fleet in disgrace, but there can be no doubt that he was summoned to london because he was one of the very few who could be trusted to put his hand to a piece of public work, with the intention of doing it first, and of attending to his own pecuniary interests afterwards. rupert's cruise in the channel was so far successful that no junction took place between the dutch and french. de ruyter drew his vessels into the shallow water near boulogne, and, when bad weather drove the english fleet off, took the opportunity to turn home. the bulk of the french fleet did not come into the channel, but some of them advanced far enough to give us the only chance we had hitherto had of punishing them for joining the dutch. when rupert was driven off the coast of boulogne, he fell back to st. helens. the squadron of sir thomas allen was kept at sea to watch for the french. three or four of their vessels were met in the channel in the course of september, and one of them, the _ruby_, of seventy guns, was taken. beaufort did not venture to come on, and, as the autumn was now begun, the fleets on both sides retired into harbour. the great war may be said to have come to an end with the withdrawal of the main fleets in the early autumn of . there were still some operations of squadrons in distant seas, and the country had one disgrace to undergo unparalleled in our own history, or, considering the circumstances, in any other. at least it would be difficult to find a case in which a powerful nation was compelled to see its ships burnt within earshot of its capital, and its coast insulted, at the close of a successful war. this disgrace was the direct result of corruption and bad management on the part of the government. the excuse made for charles ii. by official apologists is that he allowed himself to be surprised at the end of the second dutch war, solely because he was candid enough to rely for his protection on the peaceful negotiations then in progress with the dutch. the plain english of this very lame apology is that the king was compelled to seize upon the first plausible pretext for opening negotiations with the dutch, by the state of penury to which mismanagement had reduced his treasury, and that, having provided himself with an excuse for not keeping his fleet on a war footing by opening a correspondence with the enemy, he took advantage of it to divert the money voted for the war to other purposes. hence it was that in the spring of the country was found unprepared, and that the dutch, under the command of de ruyter, who was accompanied by cornelius de witt in the capacity of delegate of the states, was able to burn the ships at chatham. when the country found itself committed to hostilities with the dutch at the close of , parliament had been induced to vote the sum of £ , , for the king's service. members were in a somewhat gloomy mood when they were summoned to make good their loyal promises to the king by providing so large a sum. but the house had soon been made to understand that war could not be conducted without money. the £ , , was granted. in the sum of £ , , was asked for by the king's servants, and was obtained from the house. in the early days of a third vote of £ , , was put at the king's disposal. the total amount, therefore, voted in those three years had been £ , , . the fixed revenue of the crown, though it fell below the estimated amount, was not less than £ , , a year. for the three years counting from late in to early in this would make £ , , , so that the total amount that had been at the disposal of the government during these three years had, at least on paper, been no less than £ , , . a large allowance must undoubtedly be made for the disturbing effects of the plague and the fire. the king had to put up with delay in obtaining advances from the city on the security of the revenue, and after the fire the whole of the business of the treasury was disorganised for an interval. yet the money actually received by the king must have been much the greater part of the £ , , . none the less, his crews were a year or more in arrear of their pay, the workmen were running from the dockyards to escape starvation, and the navy was burdened with debt. king charles was under no necessity to maintain a great army. this obligation had weighed on the government of the protector, who had to provide for the scotch and irish establishments, and had, moreover, never enjoyed any equivalent revenue. the sea service of the protector did indeed suffer through the financial difficulties of his government, but was never so crippled as the navy was in . the religious discontents in scotland and conspiracies among the puritans in england undoubtedly made it necessary for the king to maintain a body of troops, yet a very few would have sufficed; and when the king began raising new regiments at the end of , it was not because they were needed for the maintenance of order. the dutch war had been a disappointment to the king and court. they found that they had entirely underestimated the difficulty of defeating holland. the war was not, as had been hoped, a rich but a poor one. in spite of our victories at sea, our commerce suffered so severely that after the conclusion of hostilities it was found necessary to suspend those provisions of the navigation acts which prohibited the purchase of foreign-built vessels. in the meantime, every appeal made to the house of commons for money had a tendency to strengthen its already deeply-rooted desire to interfere with the king's administration. this combination of disappointments abroad with the rising difficulties at home, ended by thoroughly sickening the king of the dutch war. he began to think of the dangers menacing him in england, and to long to be free from the control of his house of commons. he was far too clever a man to imitate the fatal courses of his father. charles ii. would never go far enough to provoke his people into sending him on his travels for a second time, and when parliament became dangerous he yielded. till it came to that pass, he would take all he could get, and would prepare, as far as he safely could, to make himself a despotic king on the model of his cousin louis xiv. one way of bringing about that much-desired consummation was to provide himself with an army. it would have been an act of suicidal folly to go to parliament with a request for funds for the maintenance of troops. standing army was a phrase which stank in the nostrils of all englishmen, and was to none more offensive than to the king's own most loyal subjects, the cavaliers, who associated regular soldiers with the memories of oliver's major-generals. but there was one thing the king could do: he could take the money the parliament had voted for naval armaments against the dutch, and apply it to the payment of soldiers. there was nothing in the "dry and elegant cynicism" of charles ii. to make him see anything discreditable in such a manoeuvre; so towards the end of the war he pocketed the £ , , voted by parliament for the fleet, and applied it to the general purposes of his government, of which one was the formation of fresh regiments of troops. the navy in the meantime was laid up, with the exception of a few light squadrons, and the country left without protection against the dutch. it is no doubt the case that the king was technically justified in spending the money as he saw fit. it was voted for his service, and he was in theory the judge of what constituted his service. what neither the king nor his advisers foresaw sufficiently clearly was, that the house of commons would draw its own deductions from these facts. it would sooner or later guard itself against the risk of seeing the money given for one service diverted to another by insisting on allotting funds for definite purposes. from the moment it had done that, it had taken the last step which was necessary to give it direct control over every branch of the public administration. the session of parliament began in september , and took a course well calculated to warn the king of the domestic perils before him. a bill was introduced in the house of commons for the examination of public accounts. according to the terms of this measure, a parliamentary commission was to be appointed, which was to have the power of calling the king's officers before it, and compelling them to give an account of all public money that had passed through their hands. the house was so resolute to give itself this satisfaction that it at first refused to proceed with supply until the bill was passed. the terror felt by the king's officers and by his courtiers was lively. the diary of pepys contains ample evidence of the searchings of heart set going in the navy office. the terrors of the courtiers were even greater, as they were better founded, than those of the king's officials. nobody had more to fear from a parliamentary investigation than lord ashley, afterwards first earl of shaftesbury. he was chairman of the commissioners of prizes. according to the law, the commissioners ought, after satisfying the claims of the officers and men, to have handed over the surplus for the purposes of the war, but it was notorious that the fleet had not been paid either wages or prize-money, and that vast sums of money had been pilfered by the courtiers. ashley had the king's orders not to reveal what he had done with the proceeds of the prizes, and he had also the king's promise that he would be protected against the house of commons. the servants of the house of stuart had the fate of strafford to teach them the value of such guarantees. the danger passed away, but only because the house of commons was diverted by other objects. the king had announced that he never would have passed the bill, even if he failed to get it defeated in the house of lords. the belief that he would refuse his consent to a measure designed to make his servants the servants of the house of commons was universal. some members at least were so convinced of his obstinacy that they had recourse to an unchivalrous but effectual method of coercion. they talked of attacking the king's mistress, the countess of castlemaine, thereby setting an example to ashley, who, when he had quarrelled with the king at a later period of his career, cowed his master by threatening to cause the duchess of portsmouth to be presented as a nuisance by the grand jury of middlesex. clarendon, though no friend to the extravagances of the court, was opposed to the bill, which he held, and very justly, to constitute a great reduction of the power of the crown. neither the reluctance of the king nor the management of his chancellor would of themselves have checked the house of commons if it had not been diverted by a quarrel about jurisdiction with the house of lords. it was getting into that savage state of mind which so often made it dangerous in the seventeenth century. members felt that the money they had voted had been shamefully wasted. they were filled with suspicion by the increase in the number of troops, and were almost maddened by fears, which we now know to have been well founded, that the king was secretly a roman catholic, and was nursing schemes to favour those of his own religion. it must be remembered, too, that the house was very ill informed. to-day every detail of the public service is subject to inspection by parliament, but in the seventeenth century it had not yet been settled that the king's servants were responsible to parliament in any other sense than this, that they might be impeached, and, if found guilty, be punished for giving bad advice to the king, or for illegal acts. they were still struggling to maintain the old doctrine of the tudor dynasty, that the king's servants answered to the king alone. feeling themselves tricked and eluded, being very ignorant of the facts, it is not wonderful that the members of the house of commons were liable to get beside themselves with anger. in their frame of mind they were always prepared to clamour for a victim. pepys has recorded his rueful conviction, not only that the navy officers might be, but that it was reasonable to think that they ought to be, thrown out as a sacrifice to the wolves to save the king and great men. on this occasion, however, they escaped, and it was clarendon who was thrown out to pacify the house of commons. the bill for examining public accounts passed the commons. the lords, desirous to help the king, decided to petition him to appoint a committee of inquiry himself. the commons were furious at what was manifestly a manoeuvre to avert a reinvestigation, and a great quarrel arose between the houses as to the constitutional orthodoxy of the course taken by the peers. in the general conflict the bill was allowed to lapse, but when the king prorogued parliament in the beginning of he found it wise to promise that he would cause inquiry to be made. at the time that this promise was given, the king was in hopes of a speedy settlement with holland, which might help him to huddle up the war. informal negotiations had been going on since the close of the summer of . occasion for them had been given by an act of humanity and courtesy on the part of john de witt. he caused the body of sir william berkeley, who had fallen in the first day of the four days' battle, to be skilfully embalmed, and returned it to england under a flag of truce. charles had replied by taking the first step towards the settlement of a peace. some months passed before they progressed so far as to become definite negotiations, but it was so much the interest of both parties to put a stop to hostilities that they were not allowed to drop. if england, or rather, if the english treasury, was exhausted, holland had begun to be conscious of a danger menacing her very existence. her ally, louis xiv., was entering on a course of aggression against the spanish netherlands, which, if unchecked, must very soon bring his armies to the borders of the united provinces, and thereby reduce them to entire dependence on his mercy. to face this peril while hampered with a war with england was impossible, and john de witt was eager for peace. the king of england for his part was already engaged in underhand schemes with his cousin louis xiv., which had for their ultimate object the destruction of the dutch republics, but some time had to pass before their plans could be ripened. in the interval it was desirable to make peace, and so, by putting a stop to hostilities between england and france, leave the two courts free to act together. when, therefore, the king of sweden came forward with offers to act as mediator, he was accepted by both powers. the conference appointed to settle the treaty of peace met at breda in may. while the diplomatists were sitting in their different rooms at breda, drawing up protocols and sending them to the swedish ambassador, who acted as umpire, it was perfectly understood on both sides that the war was to go on. this was first dishonestly, and then foolishly, denied on our side. but the actions of our government prove to demonstration that it was perfectly well aware that hostilities were not to be suspended. in may, when the conference at breda was just about to meet, the king, in a letter addressed to the duke of york as lord high admiral, declared that as london was well supplied with coal, there was no need to keep at sea more than a few light squadrons, which might distract the enemy and disturb his trade. these were operations of war. in fact, so little did the english government trust to the peace negotiations for protection, that when it was decided not to send a fleet to sea, measures were ordered to be taken for the fortification of the coast. in march the works undertaken for the purpose were already patent to all the world, and were, in fact, perfectly well known in holland. at a later time, when the disastrous consequences of this decision had been seen, the king threw the blame on his councillors, and the duke of york asserted that he had opposed the policy. these were after-thoughts of men anxious to screen themselves at the expense of others. from the account given by pepys of the meeting of the council at whitehall on the th of march, it appears that the duke of york was very well satisfied with the fortifications. when he was told that they were known of in holland, and might be taken for a sign of fear, "the king and duke of york both laughed at it and made no matter, but said, 'let us be safe and let them talk, for there is nothing that will trouble them more, nor will prevent their coming over more, than to hear we are fortifying ourselves.' and the duke of york said further, 'what said marshal turenne when some in vanity said that the enemies were afraid, for they entrenched themselves? "well," says he, "i would that they were not afraid, for then they would not entrench themselves, and so we could deal with them the better."'" the difference between the government of england and that of holland in these months was not that the first relied on negotiations for peace to suspend hostilities, and that the second took a base advantage of its confidence, but that england was governed by cunning men of no wisdom, intent on their own amusements, and that holland was governed by an energetic and judicious statesman, who ranked her glory far above any personal aims of his own. the light squadrons sent out from england were two. the less interesting and important was sent into the higher latitudes of the north sea under the command of sir j. smith, to cruise against the baltic commerce of the dutch, and it is reported to have been fairly successful in taking prizes. it remained there till peace was actually signed, and then returned, having made some profit for those who could secure a share in the prizes, but having certainly done nothing to distract michael de ruyter. the second squadron had a much more varied and brilliant history. it was commanded by that sir john harman who had been captain of the flagship of the lord high admiral in the battle of lowestoft, and had afterwards fought with such conspicuous valour in the four days' battle. harman came from that part of england which was to the reign of charles ii. what devonshire had been to the age of queen elizabeth--a nursery of brave and skilful seamen. the more famous of the tarpaulin admirals, as the regular-bred seamen were nicknamed, were east anglians. harman's people belonged to suffolk, and from his portrait he was of that type of eastern county men with sharp, almost hatchet faces and black hair, who perhaps represent the black danes. the station to which he was destined was the west indies. however languidly the war had been conducted in europe by louis xiv., the french and english had come to very fierce blows in the antilles. at this period the french already possessed guadaloupe, martinique, and some smaller islands. they divided the island of st. christopher with us. england had barbadoes, antigua, nevis, which lies immediately next st. christopher, on the other half of that island. the commonwealth had given us possession of jamaica. whether in the french or in the english islands, the control of the home government was very inefficient. there were conflicts as to jurisdiction between the crown and the lords proprietors who had secured concessions for settling the islands, and with the companies which had secured trade monopolies. the islands were the home of a vast floating population of adventurers, mostly scoundrels. the civil war in england had consigned herds of scotch and irish prisoners to what was really slavery in the west indies. it had also been the custom both of france and england to supply the planters with labour by drafting out criminals who were bound to give so many years of labour. an active trade of kidnapping conducted by rascals who were known by the cant name of "the spirits" tended to recruit this curious nondescript population, which not unnaturally produced a large proportion of men incapable of regular work. when it is remembered that the rich spanish colonies were close at hand, and that spain was very weak, no demonstration is required to prove that the west indies were swarming with pirates. under the names of "brethren of the coast," "flibutiers," and buccaneers, and under the pretext of asserting the freedom of the rest of the world to share in the possession of america, these adventurers carried on an incessant piratical warfare against spain. the french king's declaration of war had introduced a new element into this scene of organised disorder. the french, english, and dutch had hitherto worked pretty harmoniously together for the purpose of plundering the spaniards. they were now divided, the french and dutch being banded together against the english. the first collision in the war took place, as might have been supposed, in the island of st. christopher. the french colonists had generally an advantage over ours on these occasions. that want of industry which in the end ruined their chance of establishing an empire in america, made them more ready for martial adventure. in st. christopher's it is said that they were guilty of a breach of faith, a charge continually made and retorted on both sides. it was probably produced on this occasion the more readily, because the french gained an instantaneous and complete success. the defeat of the english may be accounted for without having recourse to the supposition of illegitimate manoeuvres on the part of the french. the planters among the english were peaceful persons who did not want to fight. they had some buccaneers, who were no doubt in their way courageous, under the command of one william morgan (not to be confounded with the renowned sir henry morgan); but these men, if they were brave, were very drunken and undisciplined. there were also some irish, victims, no doubt, of the great exportations of the civil war, who are described by the narrator of these events as a bloody and perfidious people, always hostile to the protestant interest. it is said they fired into the backs of the english while they were engaged with the french in the front. the end of it was, that our colony was destroyed, and the english wholly expelled from the island. some of them took refuge in virginia, others fortified themselves in the island of nevis, and there contrived to hold out till they were relieved. little help came from jamaica, where modyford, the governor, could not get that part of the population which was prepared to fight, to serve against anybody but the spaniards. but lord willoughby, who was again governor of barbadoes, exerted himself with energy, and appeals were made for help from home. the west indian interest, though not so great as it afterwards became, was highly important in london, and the government made an effort to afford the plantations relief. a squadron of ten ships, mostly, if not all, merchant vessels, taken for the occasion and fitted as men-of-war, was sent out under the command of captain john berry. berry was a devonshire man, the son of a clergyman who had been expelled from his living in the civil war. he was bred to the sea in the west india trade, and had entered the king's service in as boatswain of the =swallow=. first in that capacity, and then as lieutenant, he had seen service against pirates in the west indies. in this service he is said to have distinguished himself, and although the story is of dubious authority, it may be told for the excellent doctrine it contains. the =swallow= had been despatched in pursuit of a certain sea-rover, and overtook him. the chase turned out to be a larger vessel than the =swallow=, and berry's captain "rather hesitated to attack him, expressing himself in the following words:--'gentlemen, the blades we are to attack are men-at-arms, old buccaneers, and superior to us in number and in the force of their ship, and therefore i would have your opinion.' mr. berry is reported to have immediately answered, 'sir, we are men-at-arms too, and, which is more, honest men, and fight under the king's commission, and if you have no stomach for fighting, be pleased to walk down into your cabin.'" the pirate was attacked and taken. a man of whom such a story looked probable would not be wanting in resolution. on his arrival in the west indies, berry exerted himself to retaliate on the enemy for their success at st. christopher's. he succeeded in doing some real damage to the enemy, and in protecting nevis from attack; but although several french prizes were taken, and a spirited action was fought with the allies, berry could do little more than keep them at bay till reinforcements arrived from england. harman had been appointed in march, but he cannot have sailed until may. he went first to barbadoes, and from thence to nevis, where he joined berry. their combined forces were apparently enough to overawe the french and dutch, who separated and left the english in command of the sea. harman would willingly have retaken st. christopher's, but, as the english had been expelled from the island, he had no help to expect on shore. the other english plantations gave him no assistance, and he had brought no troops from england. in these circumstances he was confined to pushing the war against the enemy at sea, and fortunately an opportunity presented itself. the french admiral had retired to martinique, and had withdrawn himself under the protection of some forts. their position was reconnoitred by the =portsmouth= ketch and reported to harman, who, with the hearty agreement of his subordinates, determined to attack. he reached martinique on monday th june, and would have attacked at once, but the breezes are always treacherous under the land in the west indies. it fell calm before harman could get at the ships, though he was able to silence the forts. on tuesday morning the sea breeze was favourable, and he fell on. there is a tradition that the admiral was so seriously ill with the gout as to be unable to move, but in the excitement of battle he mastered his disease so completely that it disappeared for a time. the forts having been silenced, there was nothing to distract harman's attention from the ships, and he assailed them with such success that eight were burned, including the admiral's vessel, and most of the others driven on shore. this victory disposed of the french as active enemies at sea in the west indies for the time being, and harman was left free to assail the dutch. their posts were chiefly on the mainland of south america, in guiana, or on the islands off the coast of cumana. harman cruised against them with great success during what remained of the war. the proclamation of peace in july cut short his activity. he remained in the west indies for the protection of trade till the close of the year, and then returned to england with a great convoy in january . within a few weeks after harman sailed on this successful expedition, the country received a lesson, which it has fortunately never forgotten, on the folly of supposing that cruises against an enemy's commerce can ever compensate for the want of a force capable of meeting his main fleet in battle. all through the early spring there had come one report after another, that the dutch were fitting out a great naval force under michael de ruyter. the court, however, learned no wisdom, but continued to rely on its fortifications. even if these had been efficient, they would not have availed to avert a disaster, but the work was done in the slovenly style common in this reign. the fort at sheerness, though begun in plenty of time, was not finished when it was wanted, and was therefore not armed. yet as late as the month of may the court was diminishing the crews of the few fireships that were still kept in commission in the thames. meanwhile the dutch were resolved on a serious effort. towards the end of may a squadron under the command of van ghent was despatched to the coast of scotland. its object was probably partly to protect dutch commerce against smith's squadron, and partly to distract the attention of charles's government in a more effectual fashion than his own. van ghent entered the firth of forth, and, although he was beaten off in an attack on burntisland, and was unable to land at leith, he did great injury to trade, and he certainly gave a remarkable demonstration of the feebleness of the government. from the firth of forth van ghent sailed south to join de ruyter. on the st of june the main dutch fleet started on the cruise designed to revenge holland for the plunder of terschelling in the previous year. a storm scattered it on the th, but the ships were rapidly got together again, and, on the th of june, michael de ruyter's fleet, now seventy sail strong, was sighted off the north foreland. the officers commanding the forts on the coast, and the county magistrates, hurried the news up to london; and then at last, when it was too late, when de ruyter was anchored at the gunfleet, and an advance squadron had come up the river as far as gravesend, the court woke up to the facts of the case. if the honour of england had not been concerned, the ensuing scene would have been comic in the highest degree. for once, and for a moment, the court was reduced to sobriety. the courtiers slunk away by back doors, and the terrors of the navy office were dismal. pepys, we know, made his mind up that something dreadful was going to happen, and that, if he and his colleagues were not thrown out as a sacrifice to appease the mob, they might still be massacred in an explosion of popular fury. he has described how he took his old father and his wife into his wife's bedroom, and, having locked the door, informed them of the perils accumulating on all hands. in the hopes of saving something from impending ruin, the careful pepys sent his father and wife off to the country, with all his available ready money. if others of that generation had been as much in the habit of making plenary confessions to their diaries as was the clerk of the acts, we should probably know that many such scenes were transacted during those days in the neighbourhood of whitehall. the surprise of the nation, and its ignorance, made the danger seem greater than it really was. along with the well-founded report of de ruyter's appearance off the north foreland, came stories of a french army ready to be embarked for the invasion of england. this danger was imaginary, because the king of england had entered on that course of secret intrigue which ended by making him the vassal of his cousin. the actual peril was rather that we should be insulted and injured than invaded. it was fortunate that this was the case, for the government was utterly unprepared to deal even with the lesser peril in front of it. it was not until the th of june, when de ruyter's plans were matured and his attacking force was ready, that what deserved to be called measures of defence were taken. the london train bands were called out, and the militia of the counties immediately threatened were ordered to march down to the coast. the court had, as usual, recourse to the one man who was to be trusted in a crisis. monk was ordered down to chatham. the militia and train bands must have in any case arrived too late, and monk only reached chatham in order to be the helpless eye-witness of a national disgrace. he reached rochester on the th. his long military experience and his natural sagacity must have shown him at once that the case was hopeless. a few soldiers of a scotch regiment scattered between sheppey, sheerness, and chatham represented the sum-total of his effective military resources. the officers seemed to have known something of their business, and pepys praises them for being men of few words, and also, a very characteristic trait of the time, for being content to ride about their duties on horseback, whereas lord brouncker, one of the navy commissioners, would move only in a coach and six. but the scotch regiment was not numerous enough to prevent a landing, and there was nothing else. the fireships were unmanned. the workmen of the dockyards refused to render the slightest help. of eleven hundred who ought to have been present, only three were forthcoming when monk called upon them. in fact, neither in chatham nor in london itself could any man be found to do work except for money down. the sailors openly rejoiced in the embarrassments of the government which had cheated them of their pay, and had fed them on stinking food. their wives collected round the navy office with their husbands' unpaid tickets, and taunted mr. pepys and his colleagues. it was universally believed that the dutch fleet was full of englishmen, and, though there was no doubt some exaggeration in this, it has a foundation in fact. in the second year of the war parliament had found it necessary to pass a special act against englishmen serving in the states of holland. it is a fact that english prisoners of war, who might have been released, preferred to take service with the states. they said that the punctual pay of the dutch was better than the broken promises of the king of england. pepys has reported a story that when the =royal charles= was taken possession of by the enemy, a number of the men who boarded her were found to be english, who declared, in a rude popular copy of the cynical tone of the court, that they were coming to present their pay tickets for payment. on the th of june de ruyter had sent a squadron up the thames as far as gravesend. the merchant ships in the river fled up before it, and there was nothing in the shape of an armed force to prevent van ghent from coming on to london bridge. but the wind fell, and on the turn of the tide the dutch officer was stopped. calculating that, as the advantage of surprise had been lost, london would prove too strong to be attacked, de ruyter recalled his subordinate, and decided to be satisfied with the taking of chatham. on the th of june he entered the medway, after battering down the half-finished fort at sheerness with the utmost ease. the command of the fort and of the fireships had been given to a naval officer, sir edward spragge, who made all the fight that was possible in the circumstances. the sailors and a detachment of the scotch regiment under his orders stood their ground in the fort till the dutch cannon had battered it about their ears, and fell back when the enemy landed to storm. a great magazine of naval stores, and fifteen guns, fell into the hands of the enemy. it must be recorded, to the honour of the dutch, that, although they had received provocation which might have been held to justify reprisals in the burning of terschelling, they did no injury whatever to private property, but contented themselves with carrying off the stores belonging to the crown, which were fair prizes of war. during the th they were engaged in working up the medway. in the meantime monk had been desperately endeavouring to arrange a defence. a great iron chain working on pulleys on either side of the stream had been prepared in gillingham reach, for the purpose of stopping such an attack as the dutch were now about to make. the fact that the chain had been provided is one of many proofs that the government was not taken by surprise by the dutch invasion, but was only utterly mistaken in its estimate of effective measures. the chain was drawn across the river not without difficulty, and five or six vessels were anchored behind it in order to support it by their fire. there were also two trifling batteries, one at either end. in the dockyard there was nothing but panic and confusion, the unpaid men refusing to serve, and the higher officials running away with their private property. they, with mr. commissioner pett at their head, took all the available boats, and thereby deprived monk of his best means of removing the men-of-war lying at their moorings in the dockyard farther up the river. when pett was afterwards called to account for his conduct on this occasion, he caused some laughter by saying that he considered it his duty to save his models, and was sure that the dutch would rather have them than any of the king's ships. if the enemy had been aware of the little value of the means of resistance collected against them, they would probably have shown less hesitation in attacking than they did. the command on the spot was left to van ghent. de ruyter and the delegate, cornelius de witt, remained outside with the bulk of the fleet. van ghent gave the command of the ships appointed to break the chain to captain brackel. our ancestors consoled their national vanity by inventing a story that the enterprise was considered so dangerous that it was not undertaken until this officer, who was in disgrace at the time, volunteered on it as on a forlorn hope, in order to re-establish himself in favour. in point of fact, the difficulties in the way of the dutch were wholly caused by the intricate navigation of the river, not by any strength of armed opposition. on the th of june, brackel, having with him some frigates and several fireships, came on with the flood-tide, and steered straight at the chain. the first fireship hung on the obstruction, the weight of a second snapped the chain, and then the dutch poured through. the english ships nearest this barrier were immediately set on fire. three of them, the =unity=, the =amity=, and the =mathias=, or, as it is called in the dutch account, the =honingen castle=, were prizes taken by us in the war. they were vessels of some size, and with them were some lighter craft which shared their fate. while brackel was burning the ships at the chain, monk was doing all that lay in his power to save the vessels lying farther up the river. the panic of mr. commissioner pett and his brother officers, aided as it was by the mutinous discontent of the men, made it impossible for the lord general to move the greater ships farther up the river. one of these was the =royal charles=. she had carried the duke of york's flag in the battle of lowestoft, and monk himself had been in her in the four days' battle. this vessel now fell into the hands of the dutch. she had only thirty of her guns mounted, and could only have been saved by flight, and, as there were no means of towing her farther up the medway, flight was impossible. she was run aground, and then her crew escaped to the shore. the dutch sent out boats which took possession of the deserted vessel, and she was dragged off. monk sank the =royal james=, the =royal oak=, and the =loyal london=. when the tide turned, the dutch fell back and anchored. there were hopes that the interval might be utilised for the purpose of blocking the river. in the account which he afterwards gave to the house of commons of the miscarriage of the war, monk pleaded that he had sunk three vessels in what he was told was the only passage by which the dutch could come farther up, but that he was misinformed, and that they actually made their way up by another. it is very unsafe to rely on the evidence of men who were probably in confusion at the time, and who afterwards had strong motives for disguising the truth. monk indeed was by nature courageous and phlegmatic, and not the man to lose his head, but he probably had no great scruple in excusing himself by throwing the blame on others. wherever the responsibility for the failure may rest, it is certain that on the following day the dutch returned with the tide and passed up to upnor castle, which it had been hoped would stop them by its fire, without the slightest difficulty and with very little loss. they found the upper works of the =royal james=, =royal oak=, and =loyal london= standing out of the water, and immediately set them on fire. then, when the tide again turned, they once more fell down the river, their trumpeters playing the air called "joan's placket is torn," which it was at that time a custom of the sea to play, for the purpose of glorifying over a beaten enemy. the loss of seven large ships burnt or captured, of an uncertain number of smaller craft destroyed or taken, and of the stores in the magazines at sheerness, was far from representing the whole extent of the injury inflicted by the dutch. for six weeks after they retired from chatham they remained completely masters of the mouth of the thames and of the southern and eastern coasts of england. the enemies of the house of de witt complained that more had not been done. it was alleged that but for the want of spirit of the delegate, cornelius de witt, the dockyard at chatham might have been completely destroyed, and london itself attacked. but it does not appear that the fleet carried any considerable body of troops, and, as the militia were rapidly collecting on the english coast, it would have been rash to land small parties. the dutch naval officers, too, must have been aware that a certain risk was run by remaining among the shallows of the thames. two or three of their vessels were stranded and lost. ample damage could be done to england, and ample humiliation inflicted on her pride, without running hazards for which there was no adequate object. de ruyter withdrew his advance squadron to the gunfleet and established a blockade of the river. the terror of his presence continued to work in london for some time. even after he had withdrawn from the medway, vessels were sunk in the upper reaches of the thames to obstruct the navigation, in case he should return. the king and the duke of york were themselves seen below the bridges directing these operations; and so great was the flurry of the navy officers that they actually sank a transport laden with naval stores to the value of several thousand pounds belonging to our own fleet. de ruyter did not return; and it was fortunate he did not, for there was neither sense nor unity of will at headquarters, and in the subordinate ranks there was only discontent, and a bitter, jeering gratification over the enemy's success. pepys, whose invaluable evidence meets us at every turn, tells us that even at this moment the king's officers were thinking every man of himself. nobody would take the trouble to do more than he was compelled to do. the ordnance department, for instance, when called upon to supply powder to the fireships, would only send the materials for making it--though, to be sure, we cannot, with our still fresh recollection of the crimean war and the feats of the government departments at that time, attribute this necessarily to corruption or discontent. it was perhaps only what is practically nearly as mischievous as either of them--and that is red-tape. the dutch made an attack on the landguard fort below harwich, but were beaten off. then de ruyter, leaving van ghent to blockade the thames, sailed along the channel as far as plymouth without meeting any english force to oppose him, or, so great was the panic, any number of english merchant ships at sea. the desperate exertions of the government did at last succeed in collecting a squadron of frigates and fireships in the thames under the command of sir edward spragge. some very vague and inconclusive skirmishing, out of which our national vanity strove hard to make a victory, took place between sir edward and van ghent, but the dutch fleet was cruising unimpeded in our waters at the end of july, when a messenger brought the news of the signing of the peace of breda. chapter xiii the algerine pirates and the third dutch war authorities.--the operations against the pirates of the barbary states were recorded in separate narratives, which have been largely quoted in campbell's _admirals_ and charnock's _biographa navalis_. playfair's _scourge of christendom_ gives full accounts of them. the operations of the third dutch war are less fully recorded in the state papers than the second, but we have now the advantage of the french historians. the most copious of these is troude's _batailles navales_, founded on french official papers. it is particularly full for the battle of solebay. lediard and colleber are of little value. an account of the capture of st. helena will be found in brookes's history of the island. the conclusion of peace with the united provinces in july gave the king an interval of quiet. he had already begun secret negotiations with louis xiv., which were certain to lead him once more into hostilities with holland, but in the interval there was some work to be done of a more honourable character. it has been said already that the barbary pirates had speedily forgotten the sharp lesson taught them by blake. one of the first duties of the navy in the reign of charles ii. had been to cruise against algiers. the squadron left by the earl of sandwich on their coast, under the command of sir john lawson, had done something to renew their respect for the power of england, but it had not done enough. like most other barbarians and orientals, the barbary pirates could not believe in the reality of a power which was not always present to their eyes, and was not exercised with uniform severity. therefore, so soon as the second dutch war began fully to employ the naval power of england, they resumed their old practices. from sallee in the west to tripoli in the east, their cruisers were out again plundering and capturing every english ship they found unprotected by a convoy. no english government could afford to offend the whole trading class by allowing these outrages to go on unchecked, so, in the year after the conclusion of the dutch war, sir thomas allen was sent with a squadron into the mediterranean to expostulate with the dey of algiers, and if possible to bring him to order. allen sailed in august, and was off the pirates' stronghold on the th of october. the spaniards, to whom we were in fact giving the protection they had now become too feeble to provide for themselves, allowed us to make use both of cadiz and of port mahon in the balearic isles, as naval stations. allen succeeded in making one of the long string of treaties with the algerines. these barbarians were generally ready to promise when they were under pressure, and never hesitated to break their word when our fleets were out of sight. their conduct on the present occasion was in exact accordance with their usual practices. having secured their worthless engagements on paper, allen returned home in the autumn. he was hardly out of the straits before they began again. once more he was sent out, this time with the determination to make clean work. his squadron, eighteen strong, sailed from england on the nd july and reached cadiz on the th. from the spanish port allen returned to algiers, not to negotiate, but to blockade. in this work he had the assistance of a dutch squadron under the command of that admiral van ghent who had burnt the ships at chatham two years before. the dutch had as good reason as ourselves to complain of the algerines, and in this field we could act together for a common purpose. the united efforts of allen and van ghent did something to clear the sea. on the th of august six of the pirates who were fleeing from van ghent were cut off by a detachment of sir thomas allen's squadron under the command of captain beach. they were all destroyed. those of their crews who were mohammedans were made prisoners, the english and dutch who were found in slavery among them were restored to their countrymen. in this year there took place an action which was long remembered in the navy as particularly heroic, and is interesting because it makes us acquainted with a singularly fine specimen of the tarpaulin naval officer of the seventeenth century. john kempthorne was a devonshire man, the son of an attorney at modbury, who had fought as a cavalry officer in the service of charles i. and had died in poverty. the son was apprenticed to the sea, and entered the service of the levant company. in , on his way home from the levant, kempthorne was attacked by a spanish privateer of the name of papachino, and taken after a desperate resistance. there is a legend which may be accepted as a more or less poetical version of the facts, that, having used up all his bullets, he had recourse to firing bags of dollars into the spaniards. papachino treated him handsomely. in the following year the spaniard fell into our hands, and owed his release on comparatively easy terms to the friendly offices of kempthorne. such a man was obviously destined by nature to end in the fighting fleet. in the second dutch war he served with distinction as a captain, and had the honour to be chosen to act as rear-admiral of the blue in the battle of the th of july. in he carried an english envoy to morocco in his ship, the =mary rose=. having landed his passenger at tangier, kempthorne went on to sallee, one of the most notorious of the pirate strongholds. a gale blew him off the coast into the straits of gibraltar. here he fell in with a squadron of seven corsairs. there were two small merchant ships in sight. one of the pirates sailed in pursuit of them, and the other six fell on kempthorne. the old opponent of papachino was not the man to be carried tamely into slavery by any enemy, however superior in numbers. he fought, and was well supported by his crew. the =mary rose= was cut to pieces, eleven of her men were killed and seventeen wounded, but kempthorne reduced the principal ship of the corsairs to a sinking condition. the others sheered off and left him to make his way unmolested to cadiz. all sea fighting at this time was fierce, but there was a peculiar quality of ferocity in actions with the barbary pirates. they themselves gave their victims the choice of slavery or death, and it was given to them. immediately before this action in the straits, kempthorne had retaken a prize from the corsairs, and had sold the prize-crew of twenty-two men as slaves. kempthorne's fight lived long in the memory of the navy as a model of stout-hearted courage, and it rounds the story off pleasantly that he was imitated eleven years later by his son, captain morgan kempthorne. in the younger kempthorne, who was then twenty-three years of age, was commander of a small vessel called the =kingfisher= in the mediterranean. he was attacked by a squadron of algerines, said to have consisted of seven vessels, one more than the force his father had fought. the =kingfisher= repeated the obstinate resistance of the =mary rose=. morgan kempthorne was himself killed by a cannon-shot early in the action, but his lieutenant, wrenn, an officer who afterwards rose to high rank, filled his place. the pirates were finally beaten off, and the =kingfisher=, though seriously damaged, and having lost a large part of her men, was carried safely into naples. sir thomas allen remained in the mediterranean till the close of , when he returned home at his own request, leaving his second in command, sir edward spragge, behind him with a part of the squadron. during the short remainder of and the whole of spragge carried out the most uniformly energetic and the most effective of our cruises against the barbary pirates. in december he managed, by disguising his ship, to tempt some of the quick-sailing pirates to come too near him, and was able to effect the destruction of one among them. in the spring of the following year he struck a far more brilliant blow. news reached him in april that a squadron of algerines was lying at bougie, a port to the east of algiers. spragge set out with his squadron and several fireships, with the determination to destroy them. a storm crippled one of his vessels so severely that she was compelled to return to the coast of spain, and it also inflicted some temporary damage on a fireship. but, though weakened, the admiral considered himself still able to deal with the pirates. he refitted the fireship at sea, and then went on, reaching bougie on the nd of may. the squadron had approached with a brisk gale, but as it drew near the land the wind fell, and for the remainder of the day there were only treacherous breezes, with calms between. in these conditions no direct attack by the heavy ships was possible, but spragge was in hopes that something might be done with a fireship after dark. there were three vessels of this class in the admiral's force, two small and one somewhat larger--too large, in fact, to be used conveniently against an enemy who drew few feet of water, and was hauled up close to the land on a shelving beach. the smallest of the three was chosen. she could be rowed, and was therefore independent of the wind. the combustibles having been arranged and the slow matches laid, the fireship left the squadron, accompanied by armed boats under the command of nugent, the first lieutenant of the flagship. the night was very dark, and the enemy, lying close under the shadow of the land, was invisible. the pirates had also no doubt taken the obvious precaution of putting out their lights. in the prevailing blackness nugent overshot the enemy. calculating that he had gone too far, he stopped the expedition, and turned back with his own boat only to grope for the enemy. in a few moments he came upon them, and then silently, with muffled oars, slipped away to bring on his fireship. at that moment she burst into flames, alarming the whole coast. perhaps she was ill fitted, and the inflammable matter in her caught fire by accident. perhaps she was prematurely fired by her men. the work of the "brander" was singularly trying to the nerves of the crew; they were always liable to become flurried, and the less resolute among them were subject to the temptation to seek strength in the use of spirits, which betrayed their senses just when the utmost coolness was needed. whatever the cause of the misfortune may have been, the chance was lost. the enemy was alarmed, and, as he could succeed only by surprise, nugent returned to the flagship. for nearly a week spragge was baffled by calms and catspaws of wind. his second small fireship was consumed through the folly of a drunken gunner, who fired off his pistol in some idle extravagance, and so set her in flames. there was now but one fireship left, the =little victory=, and, as she drew eight feet of water, she could not be used against an enemy who was drawn up on the very edge of the shore. the corsairs had in the meantime dismasted their vessels to form a boom, so that the difficulty of attacking them increased as the means diminished. on the th may a convoy of ammunition was seen approaching bougie along the coast, escorted by arab horsemen. but spragge had resolved not to go till he had struck an effective stroke, and fortune favoured his pertinacity, as she is apt to do. he had lightened the =little victory= till she drew only four feet of water. so soon as the wind served, the greater ships were to engage the forts. under the cover they afforded, a detachment of boats was to cut the boom, and the fireship was to be steered through the opening. just as the convoy was nearing the town, amid the premature rejoicings of the algerines, the wind began to blow in strong from the sea. then sir edward spragge carried out his plan. he himself engaged the forts. the boats, under the command of the younger harman, pearce, and pinn, cut the boom. the =little victory= was steered through the breach and laid across the bows of the nearest pirate ship. under the impulse of the wind the flames spread quickly, and before next morning there were six skimmers of the sea the less on the waters of the mediterranean. the destruction of the ships at bougie was a severe blow to the algerines. being unable to avenge themselves on the english, they vented their rage on their own dey. he was murdered, and a successor was appointed. the new ruler did what the old must have done if he had been spared. he made peace. even so it required another visit of spragge's squadron to algiers to compel the pirates to keep faith. at last a treaty was made, and english trade appeared to be safe for the time from the pirate vessels of algiers. spragge returned home in the spring of , having effected the purpose for which his squadron was sent abroad with an exceptionally full measure of success. it was, however, only for the time being. the outbreak of the third war with holland in employed the whole naval force of the english government. the fact was soon known to the barbary states. it is convenient to forestall the course of events, and finish with this chapter of naval history. although the subsequent proceedings against the pirates belonged to the years which followed the signing of the peace with holland, they may be told here, since they form part of the same story and stand wholly apart from the war in the channel and north sea. the excesses of the pirates were so notorious, and the outcries of the english merchants so loud, that another squadron was despatched to the mediterranean in . the command was given to sir john narbrough. the reader will remember that this officer comes second in what lord macaulay calls the strange line of descent from myngs to shovell. john narbrough was a norfolk man, belonging to a family which held a position intermediate between that of the county families and the working class. he was, in fact, almost a gentleman by birth, but his family seemed to have been poor, and the lad, like many other gentlemen in his position at that time, was apprenticed to a trade. whether he was ever, as macaulay puts it, cabin-boy to sir christopher myngs may possibly be doubtful. there would be nothing in the habits of the time to make it improbable. the cabin-boy of an admiral, or even of a captain, would be very much in the position of the page of a nobleman or the maid of his wife. we know that gentlemen and ladies of very good birth served as the pages and maids of people of rank, and that this position in the household of a great man was not thought discreditable. whether he was cabin-boy or not, narbrough undoubtedly served under sir christopher myngs, and owed much to his recommendation. he had fought in the second dutch war. in the interval of peace he had commanded a curious expedition into the south seas. he was sent with a commission from the duke of york to visit the possessions of the spaniards on the pacific coast of south america. the object seems to have been to see whether it would be possible to establish a trade. the commercial policy of the spaniards ought to have been sufficiently well known to the english court to forbid any such hope. narbrough reached the coast of chili. he was received by the spanish officials with a mixture of courtesy and suspicion, and returned, after a brief stay in the pacific, having effected nothing. the spaniards would not allow of any trade, and narbrough was too much the king's officer to begin a course of piracy, after the model of private adventurers when they were debarred from commerce in the spanish seas. his command in the mediterranean was eventful and creditable. the chief offenders on this occasion were rather the tripolitans than the algerines. narbrough cruised against them all through . he began in the customary way by negotiations which led to no result, and then had recourse to active hostilities. in the june of that year he drove one of their largest ships ashore and destroyed it. at the end of august he struck another blow at the enemy. the english squadron was cruising outside tripoli when a sattee, a large lateen-rigged ship working both with sails and sweeps, was seen endeavouring to slip into port by hugging the shore. it was a calm, and she was worked with her oars. narbrough despatched the boats of his squadron to cut her off. the sattee, finding that the boats had cut her road home, ran on shore. the english boats were thereupon anchored close to her, with the intention of endeavouring to set her on fire by means of a fireship, so soon as it could be got ready. the tripolitans were soon made aware of the dangerous position of the sattee. two large armed galleys were sent out to drive off the english boats and tow the pirate vessel into the bay. for a time they were successful. the english boats retired, and the galleys took the sattee in tow. but while this was in progress the sea breeze got up. the light frigates of narbrough's squadron were able to stand in, and all three corsairs were cut off together. both the sattee and the galleys were now driven on shore, and while in this helpless position were fired by the english boats. this blow was so far effectual that the bey of tripoli was induced to open negotiations for peace. narbrough employed as his representative his first lieutenant, cloudesley shovell. shovell is the third in lord macaulay's line of descent. he came into the navy under the protection of narbrough. he also was a norfolk man, and his name will be conspicuous in the campaigns of the english navy throughout the whole of the next generation. shovell was still young, and it is said that the bey considered himself insulted by the choice of so youthful a diplomatic agent. he vented his ill-will by insult to shovell. the young lieutenant was by no means of a long-suffering disposition, but he was an officer of great care and judgment. he bore the insolence of the barbarian with patience, and in the meantime turned his leisure to account by making careful observations of the position of the pirate ships in the harbour at tripoli. his inspection satisfied him that the corsairs were open to a vigorous boat attack, and he reported as much to sir john narbrough. since the bey was obviously resolved not to make peace until he was compelled to do so, sir john decided to apply the necessary pressure. the year had now begun, and it was on the th of january that the english admiral resolved to act. the boats of the fleet were armed and supplied with combustibles. under cover of night they entered the harbour. a guardship which was found lying ready for the purpose of protecting the vessels at anchor was carried by boarding, and the boats, pushing on, took possession of and set fire to four of the bey's best vessels. they then returned to the squadron without having suffered any loss. this stroke abated the insolence of the enemy, but he was not yet sufficiently cowed to make a really satisfactory peace. the english insisted that the pirates should not only release the prisoners in their possession, but should pay an indemnity for the damage done to english trade. this they refused to do. finding that the burning of their vessels had not been enough, sir john narbrough bombarded the town, and also effected a landing at a place some distance from tripoli, and burned a magazine of timber accumulated for the construction of other cruisers. the necessity of refitting his squadron now compelled sir john narbrough to return to port. he was allowed to make use of malta by the knights of st. john. after having refitted his ships, narbrough returned at once to tripoli. this persistence finally broke down the spirit of the corsairs. they agreed to make peace, on the conditions that they should release their prisoners and pay eighty thousand dollars. even yet the work was not thoroughly done. no sooner had sir john narbrough obtained the signature of the treaty and sailed away from before the town, than some of the pirate vessels belonging to it (which, having left on a cruise some months before, had escaped the english squadron) returned. the captains of these adventurers, supported by their crews, raised an agitation against the bey for his weakness. he was compelled to flee. the report of this revolution reached sir john narbrough before he had left the mediterranean, and with it came the news that the pirates were again beginning to plunder english trading ships. he returned to tripoli, and once more bombarded the town. this last act of vigour finally persuaded the pirates that they were the weaker. the new bey confirmed the treaty made by his predecessor, and the ringleaders of the revolt were handed over to the english admiral as a guarantee for the sincere observance of the treaty. sir john narbrough felt justified in returning home with his squadron in the spring of , but his stay there was short. one or other of the pirate towns was always sure to seize upon the chance afforded by the temporary absence of english warships to renew its depredations. on this occasion it was algiers which broke its engagements. undeterred by the lesson inflicted upon tripoli, and the memory of the punishment they had received from sir edward spragge, the algerines returned to their old courses in . narbrough was sent out in the summer of that year. his second campaign in the mediterranean lasted for two years, and was directed against the algerines. several of their cruisers were captured, and on one occasion sir john made prize of twelve of their merchant vessels, and two men-of-war which were sailing with them as convoy. then he bombarded algiers, but the strength of the place was so great that this measure proved of little effect. a success gained in the month of november in did more to cow these enemies of christendom. the algerines fitted out a squadron for the purpose of retaliating on english commerce. it consisted of five vessels--the _greyhound_ of guns, the _golden tiger_ and _five stars_ of , the _new fountain_ of , and the _flying horse_ of guns. but the whole of this squadron fell together into the hands of sir john narbrough, who took it after a smart action and carried it bodily into the friendly port of cadiz. this blow so far weakened the algerines that narbrough returned home in may , with fifteen of the ships of his squadron which stood most in need of repair. he left a detachment behind him under the command of arthur herbert, who remained on the station till . the active operations of the english fleet were put a stop to when our navy was reduced to impotence at the end of the reign of charles ii. herbert we shall meet again. the operations which took place under his command are not of sufficient importance to call for notice. the third dutch war, and the last in which england had holland for a principal adversary, lasted for two years, from the spring of to the spring of . it is not a passage in our history that englishmen can look back upon with pride. our seamen indeed fought as gallantly as ever, but the leadership they found was of the poorest. this of itself might have been only a misfortune due to a temporary clouding of the military intelligence of our chiefs. but the war was essentially infamous. it was undertaken for no national purpose, and on no sufficient grounds. it is true that, in a way, it brought us a certain profit. the colossal piece of brigandage organised by louis xiv., and encouraged by the co-operation of charles ii., did undoubtedly give the death-blow to the commercial supremacy of holland, and it was england that stepped into her inheritance. yet it is certain that the united provinces, limited as they necessarily were to a small territory, must have been outstripped by the great consolidated states about them. the war can by no possibility have done more than hasten the date of their fall. as a set-off to what we gained through the distress of the dutch, we have to put the immediate loss inflicted on english commerce, the infamy which the character of the war fixed on our government, and the stimulus given to those passions and fears which brought england to the very verge of a civil war. it may be doubted whether the advantage we gained was worth the price we paid for it. unless a small money profit is a sufficient compensation for a national shame, we certainly lost. it may be asserted, with as much confidence as can be shown in maintaining any historical opinion, that the frantic fever of terror and suspicion, which threw england into the cruelties of the popish plot, can be traced directly to the policy which produced the third dutch war. the conclusion of the peace with holland in was due at least as much to the hidden policy of charles ii. and the aims of louis xiv. as to the necessities of the crown. the king of france was resolved to extend his kingdom towards the north and north-east, where it was not shut in by mountain barriers, by absorbing the spanish netherlands. these aims of his had at once excited the fears of the dutch and of the more patriotic among english politicians. it was not the interest of england to see france established as mistress of the netherlands. therefore the second dutch war was barely over before the majority of englishmen were ready to forget their late rivalry with the states, and to enter into the triple alliance with holland and sweden. the avowed object of this league was to compel spain to make certain concessions to france, but its unavowed though well-known purpose was to provide the means of offering an effectual resistance to france if she went farther than she had yet done. so long as this bond remained unbroken, there was a barrier in the way of the ambition of the french king. for that very reason it was the interest of the french king to break the triple alliance, and he found the means of effecting his purpose in the character and position of charles ii. the preliminaries of the infamous treaty of dover, signed in may , need not be repeated here. in its main lines this treaty bound the king of england to assist in the conquest of the dutch republic by an army and a fleet. when the conquest was effected, england was to receive as her share of the spoil the island of walcheren and some other points on the dutch coast. during the progress of the war charles was to receive a pension from the king of france. the treaty was kept rigidly secret, even from the majority of the king's most trusted servants. the turbulence of the house of commons during the sessions of , , and had unquestionably a large share in inducing the king to enter into this secret agreement. in the house was in the first flush of its anger against the mismanagement which had led to the final disasters of the war. it was intent on paring down the expenses of government, and insisted both on apportioning the fixed revenue for definite purposes, and on inquiring into the spending of the money voted for the war. it was no less resolute in voting against a standing army, which the king was endeavouring to form, and against popery, which he was dimly suspected to favour. popular fury was for a time diverted into a clamour against clarendon, who was driven from office and the country. but when the house met in february , it was found to be intent as ever on investigating the miscarriages of the war. peter pett, the commissioner of the chatham dockyard, and sir william penn were both called before the house and threatened with impeachment on a long string of charges. the commons called for and received a long apologetic statement from monk. the proceedings against penn and pett fell through, and pepys contrived to make a plausible case for the navy office, but the house was in so dangerous a humour that the king did not dare to cross it openly. the war had left him embarrassed with debt, and it was soon made clear that, until the house was satisfied that there would be better management in future, it would not vote a penny for the relief of the king's necessities. the pressure thus applied to him drove the king at last to promise that supply should be collected and issued for those purposes, and by such persons only as the house of commons should think fit. he agreed, in fact, to the demand of parliament to be allowed to appropriate its votes to particular services. the concession was really great, but the commons still refused to relieve the king, and continued to insist on retrenchments and the regulation of the revenue. in desperation the king prorogued the house, and did not summon it again for nearly a year and a half. at last want of money drove him to call parliament together in october . it was not found that this interval of delay had produced any reduction in the passions of the members of the lower house. once more they went into the abuses in the accounts, and they expelled sir george carteret, who had been treasurer of the navy. these incessant attacks, which, though nominally directed against his servants, were in reality aimed at himself, made the king long more eagerly for a release from an intolerable position. he found a body of courtiers who were prepared to assist him in carrying out his policy of alliance with france against holland. the members of this informal council were called the cabal, a word originally only applied to what we now call a cabinet. it happened, oddly enough, that the first letters of their names, clifford, ashley, buckingham, arlington, and lauderdale, spelt the word, and as their policy ended by becoming odious, an unfavourable sense was ever afterwards attached to the phrase. they were called "the cabal," and the term became synonymous with everything that was unscrupulous and unpatriotic. with the help of these men, the king contrived so far to manage his parliament in that it voted him something for the payment of his debts. as the intrigue with louis xiv. was ripe just at this moment, the money voted by the house came at a convenient time. it was, however, not sufficient, and probably would not have been if it had been spent with more care than was ever bestowed on the management of the king's revenue. when the time came to give active assistance to the king of france, it was found necessary to cast about for other resources. charles dared not summon his parliament and ask it for funds to help the aggressive roman catholic king of france to destroy a protestant state. a way out of the difficulty was found by plundering the creditors of the crown. when parliament voted the king money, it was then the custom to raise the funds at once from the bankers, who advanced the money entrusted to them by their clients on the security of the revenue. they received per cent. for the accommodation, and were accustomed to pay their own clients --the difference was their profit. of course one result of this method of managing the revenue was, that as the taxes came in they were paid over to the bankers. if the money advanced by the capitalists had been wasted so soon as it was received, the king was naturally as poor as ever. this was exactly what had happened. money being absolutely indispensable, the crown provided for itself by repudiating its debts. orders were given that no more payments should be made out of the exchequer to the bankers. thus the king received the parliamentary vote twice over--once when it was advanced by the bankers, and once again as the taxes came in. this was the famous closing of the exchequer which brought such profound discredit on the government of charles ii. it was the result of conducting government on the principles of a wasteful private person. the closing of the exchequer took place in january . it put the king so far in funds that he was able to meet the house of commons with some confidence. he could now at least go on to make war without waiting till the house voted him more money. during the whole of the danger menacing the low countries had been notorious. john de witt tried hard to secure allies, and was prepared to make great concessions to england, in return for support against the french. but the king had decided that the french alliance was more profitable. the piratical character of the war was shown by the very first measure taken by the english government. negotiations were still in progress with holland when sir robert holmes was ordered to attack the home-coming dutch smyrna and lisbon convoys. the seventy or eighty merchant ships forming convoys were known to be laden with very rich cargoes. if they could be seized bodily, they would not only put a great deal of booty in the way of officers employed on the service, but would also give charles's government the command of a much-needed sum of money. the duty of seizing them was given to sir robert holmes. the force at his command was supposed to be amply sufficient for the work. he had nominally thirty-six warships under his orders, and, as the dutch merchant ships were only accompanied by six men-of-war for their protection, he would, supposing his force to be efficient, have been able to overpower them easily. but the strength of his fleet existed mainly on paper. of the ships actually ready there were only five or six. holmes was cruising with these vessels in the neighbourhood of the isle of wight, when the dutch fleet under the command of van nes came up the channel. it had perhaps been supposed by the english court that the dutch would be found unprepared. they were, however, on their guard. although the states general had tried to pacify the king of england, they had not been so foolish as to neglect the risk that he would attack them. van nes had been warned, and was ready to defend himself. throughout the whole of the war now beginning, the average conduct of the dutch officers was better than it had ever been before. the strong measures taken by john de witt to improve the discipline of the service had had their effect, and it may be believed that the deadly peril of their country had some effect in rousing the courage of the dutch. they are not an easily moved people, but, when once thoroughly inflamed, their valour is singularly tenacious. on this occasion the dutch officer handled his convoy with the utmost skill as well as resolution. twenty of his merchant ships carried guns, and van nes made use of them as fighting ships. the decks were hampered with cargo, but this the dutch skippers threw overboard to make room for working the guns. van nes adopted the usual order for a convoy. he arranged his warships and armed merchant ships in the so-called half-moon. this formation had been adopted by tromp at the battle of portland. it was, in fact, an angle, the flagship being at the apex, and the vessels from which fighting was expected being arranged in two lines branching out to right and left from her. the unarmed vessels would be put in the space contained in the angle. the action began on the afternoon of the th of march. the courage of holmes was, in fact, more conspicuous than his good management. if he was outnumbered, it was largely due to his own fault. on the day before the dutch came in sight, he had met the ships returning from the mediterranean under sir edward spragge. these were the vessels which had been engaged in the operations against the algerine pirates described above. spragge had passed the dutch convoy on the way. he was not acquainted with holmes's orders, and sir robert did not tell him what they were. the fact, no doubt, is that holmes thought himself strong enough to capture the dutch convoy without help, and was unwilling to share prize-money with another officer. this was only one more example of the then general practice of subordinating the public service to private interests. holmes paid for his greed by failure. he found the dutch far too strong for him. when he attacked on the afternoon of the th of march, the english ships fought well, for, although holmes was a man of a conceited, violent, and turbulent character, he was abundantly brave, and his captains backed him up stoutly. they could, however, make no impression on the dutch. when night fell, they were glad to draw off badly cut up, and the enemy continued on their way. during the darkness the english ships were refitted. holmes's own flagship, the =st. michael=, was so severely mauled that he was compelled to transfer his flag to the =cambridge=, but he was reinforced in the morning by three fresh vessels. the second day's fighting was as fierce as the first had been, and was somewhat more successful. one dutch vessel was sunk, and five or six were captured. several officers fell on both sides. the great bulk of the dutch convoy was carried safely into port. holmes and spragge are reported to have had a quarrel. sir edward thought that his brother officer had been meanly anxious to deprive him of prize-money, and the probabilities are that he was right. the failure of this attack was a great disappointment to the government. the open declaration of war could no longer be delayed. the king had informed parliament of his intention to make war on the dutch, and referred it to his declaration for his reasons. the declaration, as might be expected where the government could not avow its real motives, was a somewhat pitiful document. an attempt was made to justify hostilities by complaints that the dutch had not fulfilled their treaty obligations in regard to surinam, and had persisted in offensive measures against our trade in the east indies. much prominence was given to their offences in the matter of the salute to the english flag. this was a convenient pretext whenever an english government wished to quarrel with a neighbour. it could always say that it was asserting the national dignity. in the present case the falsity of the pretext was glaring, for the king, who was so exacting towards the dutch, was prepared to waive his rights as against the french. louis xiv. never would allow his ships to render the salute, and king charles did not insist on this mark of deference from his paymaster. the greater part of the declaration was divided between assertions that the dutch republic was the enemy of all kings, and complaints of personal insults directed against king charles. it was thought ridiculous, even in times which had a profound reverence for royal dignity, that an appreciable portion of so serious a document as a declaration of war should be found to be devoted to a rather whimpering complaint that the dutch had drawn pictures of his majesty in undignified positions. this wordy document, written in the style of a pamphlet, produced very little impression on the house of commons. members, in fact, were too intent on resisting the spread of popery, and had been made too angry by the king's declaration of indulgence to dissenters, to pay much attention to the war. the session was employed in passing the test act, and in the meantime the campaign against the dutch was carried on with such resources as the king had been able to provide by closing the exchequer and by taking the money of france. although one side had long been resolved on war, and the other had every reason to consider it inevitable, the fleets of england and holland were so little ready that nearly two months passed before serious operations were begun. the english government collected its fleet in the course of march, april, and may by the methods already described, and in the face of much the same difficulties as had been met with in former wars. the navigation laws were suspended. on the occasion of the last war this had been done by the king without question. but the recently published declaration of indulgence had startled parliament by showing it what extension might be given to the king's prerogative to dispense with penal statutes. the suspension, then, of the navigation acts did not on this occasion pass without exciting comment. yet there was no resistance to the king's exercise of his authority. in war-time the measure was indispensable. in later ages parliament was accustomed itself to suspend the acts, since it was evident that the country did not contain a sufficient number of sailors to man both the merchant ships and the war fleet. crews were found by a free use of the press. officers who had not been employed during the peace were recalled to the king's service. such men, for instance, as richard haddock now found the opportunity to serve the king in the higher commands of his navy. richard haddock was the son of william haddock, who had served the commonwealth with distinction, and had been rewarded by the gift of a jewel as a special mark of favour. the family had for centuries been seamen and skippers of the town of leigh in essex. richard haddock had fought in the previous war, but, finding no employment in peace, had returned to the command of a merchant ship, of which he was part owner. there were still hundreds of others who, like him, were naval officers only in war and merchant seamen in peace. the difficulties which were put in the way of manning the fleet by the defects of the administration were not less than they had been before, but in this war the king of england did not act alone, and the strain on the navy office was not so great. while the english fleet was being got ready for sea, the dutch also were preparing. the whole extent of their peril had now been revealed to them. a french army of overwhelming strength poured over their border. the loevenstein party had always been jealous of the army. it feared the devotion of the soldiers to the house of orange, and had not only reduced their numbers, but had disorganised the diminished force it did maintain by omitting to fill up the higher commands. this measure, which was intended to make combined action on the part of the soldiers the more difficult, proved utterly disastrous when the country was suddenly entangled in war with a formidable enemy. the towns fell fast before the invader. the neglected army was found to be utterly inefficient, and it looked for a time as if the end of holland had come. the states general made appeals to the kings of france and england, but in vain. they were answered by both with demands which, if complied with, would have entailed the entire destruction of holland. there are few more odious passages than this in european history. nothing like it was seen again until the time of napoleon. the states general, driven to despair, made desperate efforts to prepare forces for the defence of the country. these efforts, though hampered by the divisions of the dutch admiralty, were more successful at sea than on land. if the fleet sent to sea under the command of de ruyter was late in getting ready, it was at least a powerful and efficient force when once it had been collected. it consisted of over a hundred vessels. between seventy and eighty were of the line or were frigates. if it had been out a month sooner, it is possible that the naval war might have begun by a crushing disaster to the allies. the french squadron appointed to co-operate with the english did not make its appearance in the channel till the first days of may. it anchored on the third of that month at portsmouth. the command was given to the count d'estrées, vice-admiral of france. d'estrées was not a seaman, but a great noble who was entrusted with the military direction of the fleet only. the navy of louis xiv. was as yet but new and inexperienced. the forty vessels under d'estrées were likely to be more of a burden than a help to the english fleet, yet the vessels were among the finest then afloat. while the french admiral was at portsmouth, he was visited by the king, who admired the size and beauty of his ships. in the meantime the english fleet was painfully collecting in the downs. if at this moment de ruyter had been in a position to attack, it is extremely possible that he might have beaten the allies in detail; but his fleet also was not ready, and so the french and english were allowed to join one another in the downs unmolested. the english fleet consisted of some sixty ships of the line and a number of smaller vessels. monk was dead, and the command was again in the hands of the duke of york as lord high admiral. the king was still childless, and the duke was the heir-presumptive to the throne; but although this had been made an excuse for recalling him from active command in , it was not allowed to prevent him from going to sea in . the second in command of the english fleet was the earl of sandwich. when the whole force of the allies was collected, it was divided, according to the custom of the time, into three squadrons, carrying respectively the red, the white, and the blue flag. on this occasion the white squadron consisted wholly of the french. it was natural that they should carry this ensign, for the flag of the french monarchy was white. but as the white squadron formed the van in the order of sailing of a great fleet, it was made a charge against the cabal that they had sacrificed the dignity of england by leaving this place of honour to a foreign power. the red squadron was under the direct command of the duke of york. his vice-admiral was sir edward spragge, and his rear-admiral sir john harman. sandwich commanded the blue squadron, with sir joseph jordan as vice and sir john kempthorne as rear-admiral. on the th of may the whole fleet was at anchor in the downs when the dutch fleet was seen off the north foreland. the duke of york immediately put to sea, with the intention of forcing on a battle. de ruyter was perfectly ready to fight, but he was also resolved not to give battle until he saw a fair prospect of striking an effectual blow. he therefore drew off before the allies to the coast of holland. he perhaps calculated on the inexperience of the french to cause some confusion in the allied fleet. to judge by the movements of the allies, the duke of york and his english advisers were far from sure of the seamanlike efficiency of their associates. soon after the fleet had got under way, the weather became misty and squally. thereupon the allies proceeded to southwold or solebay, and came to an anchor on the evening of the th. here they remained, making no movement, for several days. the fleet was anchored some seven or eight miles off shore. this was hardly what was to be expected from a commander who felt confident of the capacity of his force to fight and manoeuvre. the duke of york may have had another reason for remaining at solebay. the work of provisioning an english fleet was usually so wretchedly done at that time, that he may very possibly have been already in want of stores. yet his necessities cannot have been so great as to compel him to remain at anchor when an enemy was within a few hours' sail. another explanation of his action may be found in this, that the duke was essentially no commander at all, but only a very dull man who had acquired some knowledge of the mechanical parts of seamanship, and was intrinsically incapable of thinking out any plan of action. such a man might naturally prefer to remain quiescent till his enemy came in sight and saved him the trouble of thinking. whatever the explanation may be, it can hardly be consistent with the efficiency of the allied fleet or the capacity of its commander. the disadvantages of the situation in which the naval force of the allies was kept was patent to many of the subordinate commanders. a well-known and fairly well-authenticated story tells how sandwich expostulated with the duke of york at dinner on the evening of the th. the admiral of the blue called the duke's attention to the fact that when the wind was from the sea the fleet was in a dangerous position, and recommended that it should either stand out or be drawn nearer the shore. what sandwich probably meant was, that as it lay, the fleet could get no support from batteries on shore, and might, if the wind blew from the e. or n.e., be so attacked that the dutch could double upon one end of it, part of them placing themselves outside, and the others coming between the english ships and the land. this danger might be averted either by getting under way, or by anchoring so close to the shallow water that the enemy would be unable to come inside. the warning was much needed, and the advice was good. but the duke of york took neither one nor the other. he only answered with a silly jeer at the courage of sandwich. the story is credible enough of the only member of the house of stuart of whom it can be said that he occasionally acted like a boor, and was always essentially dull. the value of the opinion attributed to sandwich was demonstrated on the morning of the th of may. the french look-out frigate reported that the dutch fleet was at hand. the morning was hazy, and de ruyter was close on before he was seen from the flagships. so little was the duke of york prepared for a risk of which the probability must have been patent to every thinking man in the english fleet, that a number of the boats were getting water. that the ships had not supplied themselves during the seven days they had been lying idle, speaks volumes for the slovenly stupidity of the management in the french and english squadrons. the conduct of the battle is worthy of what had gone before. the moment the dutch were known to be coming on, the allies did what they ought to have done earlier. they got under way, but of course they had to do in hurry and confusion what they might have done coolly and in good order. the wind was blowing from the n.e. in the early hours of the morning. if it had held steady, de ruyter would have been upon his enemies before they had time to get into any kind of order, but it fell for a short space, and then shifted round towards the south. this pause gave the allies time to cut their cables and get under way. in the very act of preparing for battle they divided themselves into two, thereby committing the most fatal possible blunder in the presence of a capable enemy. the blue squadron was anchored to the north. to the south of it was the red squadron, and south of that again the white. in the usual order of sailing it would have fallen to this last to lead. if the duke of york meant to allow the blue squadron to lead, he should have made his meaning perfectly clear beforehand, since, in the absence of particular instructions, d'estrées would naturally act on the general sailing orders. but if the white squadron was to lead, it must, with the wind at n.e., stand out to s. of e. on the port tack. this was the course taken by d'estrées, and, unless he was told not to take it, he was right, both because he followed the regular sailing orders, and because this course would lead him to the open sea. but while d'estrées was steering south-east, the blue squadron, with the red squadron after it, was standing to the w. of n. they went out on the starboard tack. why this course was followed does not appear. it presented no possible advantage, but had, on the contrary, the serious drawback that it carried the english ships near the coast, where they were in imminent danger of being cooped up between the enemy and the shallow water. haste and want of thought, or confused directions from the duke of york, probably account for the blunder. when once it had been made, the allied fleet lay at the mercy of michael de ruyter. the course followed by the white squadron was carrying it away to leeward, whence it could not return except by tacking against the wind. the dutch admiral could therefore afford to neglect it and employ the main strength of his force in attacking the english. de ruyter's fleet had come down in line abreast, stretching from north to south. the ships at the northern end formed the squadron of admiral van ghent. de ruyter himself commanded in the centre. the left wing, or most southerly end of the line, was the squadron of bankert. the dutch admiral ordered this officer to follow and watch d'estrées. bankert's duty was not to force close action with the french admiral, but to keep himself to windward and check every attempt of the enemy to return to the support of the duke of york. this duty he performed so thoroughly that the french were thrown out of action all day long. our ancestors accused d'estrées of want of personal courage, or at least of disloyalty to his ally, but it may be that he could not help himself: having once fallen to leeward, his squadron had not the seamanship to work back against the dutch. while d'estrées and bankert were engaged in a distant cannonade, a furious battle was raging between the squadrons of van ghent and de ruyter on the one hand, and the blue and red squadrons on the other. whether he deliberately planned to do it or not, de ruyter contrived to concentrate a superior force on the english line. in the order in which we went into action, the ships at the head of the line were commanded by sir john kempthorne. next to him came the earl of sandwich, with his flag in the =royal james=. sir joseph jordan followed the admiral of the blue. then came sir john harman, with the rear ships of the red squadron. then the duke of york, and then sir edward spragge. it would appear that the dutch attack was directed mainly on those parts of our line which were immediately about the earl of sandwich and the duke of york. i am not aware that this is anywhere stated, but as it is said, on the authority of eye-witnesses, that the dutch had a superiority of three to two in the battle, and as they certainly could not have had this advantage after detaching the ships under bankert if they had engaged from end to end, i conclude that they managed to be superior at the point of attack, though only equal in number to the english fleet, by concentrating in this way. it is made further probable that this was the case by the fact that, after the battle had lasted some time, sir joseph jordan tacked with his division of the blue squadron, gained the wind of the dutch, and came to the support of the duke of york, who was hard pressed. it is said, indeed, that jordan had previously beaten off his own immediate assailants, but the conduct of the dutch in the other parts of the battle renders it improbable that sir joseph would have been in any condition to manoeuvre if he had been seriously attacked. the probabilities are, that a few vessels only were employed to watch rather than attack jordan, and that the main strength of the dutch was concentrated on the flags of sandwich and the duke of york. it is certain that at these two points the english suffered very severely. as de ruyter bore down on the english line, he summoned his steersman, or, as we should say, quartermaster, to him, and, pointing with his finger to the duke of york's flagship, the =prince=, said, "that's our man." the _seven provinces_, in which, as in the former war, de ruyter had hoisted his flag, was brought to within pistol-shot of the =prince=, and the two admirals set an example of fierce and close fighting to their fleets. the dutch boasted that the broadsides of de ruyter were fired with the rapidity of volleys of musketry, and, as he had no doubt kept his old crew and many of his old officers about him, he may well have had them in a high state of efficiency. the gunnery of the english fleet was generally good, and there was abundance of courage, but the discipline had fallen from the standard of former years. the =prince= was cut to pieces without being able to inflict equivalent damage on the _seven provinces_. the duke of york's mainmast was shot down, and his vessel otherwise so damaged that he transferred himself and his flag to the =st. michael=, of which sir robert holmes was captain. although a regular corps of naval officers was being formed, it had not yet been made the rule that a man who served as admiral on a particular service was always entitled to that rank, and holmes, who had been a flag-officer in the former war, was only a captain at solebay. the =st. michael= was nearly as badly mauled, before the day was done, as the =prince= had been, and the duke was again compelled to transfer his flag to the =loyal london=, the flagship of sir edward spragge. while the centre of the english line was thus being broken down under the strenuous attacks of de ruyter, the earl of sandwich was hotly beset by van ghent. the dutch admiral himself fell in the heat of the battle, but the =royal james= was none the less furiously assailed. whatever the defects of his character may have been, sandwich fought his ship on this the last and most glorious day of his life with determined courage. the dutch steered fireship after fireship down upon him, but they were one after the other sunk by his guns. at last the enemy succeeded. a shot from the top of one of the dutch ships wounded the left foot of richard haddock, the captain of the =royal james=. he limped into his cabin, and was under the hands of the surgeon, who was cutting away some loose skin and one of his toes, when he heard the cry that a fireship had at last grappled the =royal james=. it was said that haddock made his way out of the cabin to the admiral on the quarter-deck. the amount of damage suffered by the ship makes it probable that some of her spars had fallen, bringing down the sails with them, which would be hanging over the side, and that they caught fire in the flames of the fireship. it is at least certain that the =royal james= was blazing in a moment, and it is difficult to account for the rapidity of the conflagration in any other way than this. haddock, so the story runs, implored the admiral to throw himself overboard and endeavour to escape by swimming, but sandwich, stung by the duke of york's unmannerly sneer at his well-proved courage, chose to perish in his ship. it is probable that this is a legend invented by someone unfriendly to the duke, for the purpose of increasing the glory of sandwich. if he had stayed, he would have been burnt in his ship. but his body was picked up some days afterwards, so disfigured that it was only recognised by the star on his coat. the great majority of the officers and men of the =royal james= perished with the admiral. haddock was picked up, and it is said by the dutch that one of the lieutenants was taken out of the water by their boats. they put into the mouth of this officer a confession of his admiration for their fighting, and a statement that this battle exceeded anything seen in the previous war. "it is not yet midday," he is reported to have said, "and more has been done than in any of the four days' battles." whether any imprisoned english officer said these words or not, it is true that the battle of solebay was extraordinarily fierce. so savagely had both parties fought, that in the early hours of the afternoon they were exhausted. it was probably not long before this that jordan came to the relief of the duke of york. he was foolishly enough abused in the house of commons as if he had deserted his own admiral, but his movement was undoubtedly correct. it relieved the pressure on the centre of the english line, and prevented de ruyter from overpowering our fleet as completely as he might have done but for this interruption. jordan could, however, do no more than relieve the over-taxed red squadron. de ruyter was able to draw off, leaving the english so crippled that they were utterly unable to follow, and the french, true to their character throughout the whole battle, made no effort to pursue. very persistent but also rather foolish attempts have been made to represent the battle of solebay as a victory for us. it was not that, nor even a drawn battle. it is true that the obstinate valour of the officers and men averted an utter defeat. on our side, solebay was a sailors' battle, to adapt a phrase usually applied to armies. with the exception of sir joseph jordan's movement to support the red squadron, there was no sign of skilful management among our leaders. de ruyter, on the contrary, showed the qualities of a great commander. though inferior in numbers on the whole, he took advantage of his enemy's blunder to be superior at the point of attack, and he pressed his assault so fiercely home as to inflict the maximum of damage. then, having crippled his enemy so effectually that no counter-attack was probable for some time, he took his own fleet home damaged, but still in a state to serve. indeed, so little was he disabled from keeping the sea, that he met and convoyed home the returning east india ships. the fruits of victory were his. although the whole of the summer remained to the allies, nothing was done against the dutch. the french and english squadrons did indeed pay a visit to the coast of holland, but they made a very short stay there, and the trade of the states was not seriously interrupted. the internal condition both of holland and england had much to do with suspending hostilities. in the low countries revolt broke out against the loevenstein party. the partisans of the prince of orange succeeded not only in replacing him at the head of the army and navy, but in restoring to him the whole extent of his authority as stadtholder. the de witts were cruelly murdered by the mob, and their party effectually destroyed for the time. although the revolution was accompanied by circumstances of atrocious barbarity, it was on the whole beneficent to holland. william iii. made no attempt to undo what the loevenstein party had effected for civil freedom and religious toleration, and he gave his country what it needed if it was to be saved from the invader--that is to say, unity of military command. having no jealousy of the army, he was able to apply himself with whole-hearted vigour to making it efficient. holland rose against the french, as it had risen against the spaniards. the dykes were opened, and the country put under water. during the interval of leisure provided by this desperate measure, much was done to make the defence of the country once more possible. in the midst of so terrible a crisis as this, the naval war was inevitably neglected by holland. de ruyter had done enough to avert the danger of invasion from the sea, and offensive operations against england would have served no useful purpose. so hard pressed, indeed, were the dutch, that they were compelled to land the powder from the ships to be used by the soldiers. in england other causes were at work to prevent the government from pushing the war. the king found that the old jealousy of holland had been replaced, at least for the time, by another and more pressing emotion. the growth of the power of france, the aggressive policy of its king, the danger to a neighbouring protestant state, combined with the king's obvious intention to favour the roman catholics as shown by his proclamation of toleration, had frightened the nation into one of its paroxysms of fear of popery. parliament showed an obstinate determination to give the king no help in this war. it called in question his right to suspend the penal laws against dissenters, and the session was devoted to passing the test act, which was especially meant to exclude roman catholics from all offices under the crown. although it was one of the secret articles of the king's treaty with france that he was to proclaim himself a roman catholic whenever a favourable opportunity occurred, he was compelled to allow the bill to become law, for fear that an obstinate refusal would provoke an explosion of disloyalty to the crown. hitherto the parliament had been profuse in declarations of loyalty to the king's person. it drew careful distinction between him and his servants, and always professed to be inspired by a tender anxiety for his safety, even at the moment that it was engaged in defeating what it well knew to be his policy. according to his usual custom, charles escaped the peril by bowing to it, and by sacrificing his servants. among those who were thrown over to pacify the house of commons was the duke of york. on the passing of the test act he resigned his commission as lord high admiral, and was therefore necessarily removed from the command of the fleet. he was replaced by prince rupert. the choice of his cousin to command at sea was probably due less to any confidence the king had in his ability than to the prince's rank. as the english fleet was to co-operate with the french, it was desirable to have someone at the head of it whom a french noble would recognise as his social superior. louis xiv. had given strict orders to his officers to avoid disputes with the english, but it is very doubtful whether even the commands of his own king would have been enough to compel the count d'estrées to render ready obedience to spragge or jordan. although he was hampered by the reluctance of his parliament to vote him money, and by the growing unpopularity of the french alliance among englishmen, the king made an effort in the following year to push the war against holland. six thousand soldiers were collected at yarmouth, to form an invading army ready to be landed on the coast of zeeland or north holland, in order to attack the republic from behind, while the french troops were pressing on it from the rhine. before it was safe to attempt to land these men on the dutch coast, it was absolutely necessary to dispose of the fleet of de ruyter. the crushing burden thrown upon them by the french invasion made it hard indeed for the dutch to maintain an adequate force at sea. if they could have devoted the whole resources of the state to the naval war, they might perhaps have been able to meet the french and english on equal terms. but this was far from being the case. their resources did not do more than enable them to fit out such a fleet as might, "by the help of god and a good admiral," prevent the enemy from landing an army on their coast. happily for them, and for england also, since the success of king charles's mean personal policy would have been the establishment of france in overwhelming strength in the netherlands, the good admiral was not wanting to holland. michael de ruyter was admirably fitted for the work he had now to do. he had to fight a defensive campaign. a rash man might have yielded to the strain, and have risked the existence of holland by fighting an imprudent battle. but de ruyter, though he was one of the few commanders who grew bolder as he grew old, was never rash. on the other hand, a timid man might have been oppressed by the responsibility of his position, and might have been reluctant to fight, even when a fair opportunity presented itself. de ruyter had just the needful combination of cool, self-possessed caution which made him refrain from blindly rushing at a threatening danger, and of intrepidity which nerved him to strike hard when he saw that a blow could be successfully delivered. he was the last man in the world to endeavour to behave after the fashion recommended by our own admiral herbert some twenty years later--namely, to get behind a sandbank, and trust to the effect which the knowledge that the fleet was "in being" was likely to have on the mind of an enemy. nor was it in his nature to attack feebly when the time for fighting had come. therefore it was that he stood vigilantly on guard during the summer of amid the shallows of the dutch coast, watching the operations of the superior allied fleet, leaving them unmolested when nothing was to be gained by attack, and striking, when the time for blows had come, with might and main. the success he achieved may be regarded by us not only with the admiration due to a valiant and skilful enemy, but with something not remote from patriotic approval. he won, it is true, against an english fleet, but his victory was gained in the real interest of england. it was obviously the interest of the dutch to cripple the naval force of england before it could be again united with that of france. since it was impossible for them, with their then diminished resources, to do this by being beforehand with a powerful fleet, they resolved to make the attempt to effect the purpose indirectly. a scheme, of which de ruyter himself can hardly have approved, was formed to block the approaches of the thames by sinking heavily-laden ships in the channel. with this purpose in view, de ruyter came on our coast early in may, with a force of ships of the line, frigates, and fireships. he came as far as the gunfleet, but no attempt was made to put the plan into operation. the naval preparations of the english government had been timely. it had a sufficient force lying outside the banks to oppose de ruyter's squadron. when this was known to be the case, the dutch admiral fell back to his own coast. the states general, with the approval of the prince of orange, decided on making no more attempts at offensive warfare for the present. the only fleet holland could afford to equip was stationed at schooneveldt, a good anchorage between shallows on the coast of zeeland. here it was ordered to lie, and keep watch on the movements of prince rupert. shortly after de ruyter had returned to the coast of his country, the french squadron arrived in the downs. it was still under the command of d'estrées, and consisted of ships of the line and some smaller vessels. the strength of the english fleet was ships of the line, and it was divided into two squadrons--the red, under the command of rupert, and the blue, of which sir edward spragge was now admiral, in succession to sandwich. the dutch fleet had been raised to a strength of ships of the line, frigates, fireships, yachts, and galliots-- vessels in all. but more than half of these were small. de ruyter had only battleships to oppose to the of the allies. the odds were very long. no english admiral has ever had to fight against such a superiority of real force. although bad administration and the example of the court had done much to injure the discipline of our fleet, it was still far from being as inferior in efficiency to the dutch as the spanish and french fleets of nelson's time were to us. in the allied fleet the english were just equal to the dutch, leaving the whole french squadron to give the allies a superiority of power. the french were still inexperienced, and for that, together with other reasons, they proved of little use in the campaign. yet they were certainly not so inferior to the dutch as the spaniards of the great war were to ourselves, and de ruyter cannot have known that they would not exert themselves fully. so soon as the whole allied force was collected in the thames, it stood over to the dutch coast. the conduct of the french at the battle of solebay had filled the english seamen with suspicion, and it was decided to put them on this occasion where they could not go off on a tack by themselves. prince rupert took the van with the red squadron. the french, who still formed the white squadron, were placed in the centre, with the blue squadron under sir edward spragge in the rear. our ally was thus sandwiched between two trustworthy english forces. de ruyter was found at his anchorage at schooneveldt. relying, as he reasonably might, on his superior numbers, prince rupert decided to make an attempt to draw the enemy out to the open sea, where he could be crushed. a light squadron of thirty vessels, including eight french, was sent in with eight fireships to attack the dutch at anchor. the wind was from the s.w., and the occasion appeared favourable. rupert's effort to draw the enemy proved successful in a way he had not foreseen. de ruyter was not the man to lie in a hole and to think that it was enough to preserve himself in being, in order to make himself felt by the enemy. he could rely on the zeal of his squadron. a vehement letter of appeal from the prince of orange to the officers and men on the fleet had been read on every ship. it called on them to remember that the very existence of their country was now at stake, to throw aside all selfish care for their own lives, and to sink all personal animosities for the sake of holland, this appeal to the patriotic feeling which is profound in the dutch heart had been becomingly answered. de ruyter had set his fleet a good example by putting his personal grievances aside. the stadtholder had appointed cornelius van tromp to succeed van ghent. tromp was an ardent partisan of the house of orange, and was very popular with the seamen, but he was no friend to michael de ruyter. his disobedience in the last battle of the previous war had almost caused a crushing disaster, and there had been an open quarrel between the two. when, however, tromp was named by the stadtholder as third in command of the fleet, the admiral promised to forgive what had passed. tromp was ordered by the prince to obey his admiral, and the two were publicly reconciled. as no more is heard of the insubordination of tromp, he must be supposed to have been sincere in the promises he gave, not to remember the stinging rebuke of de ruyter in the former war. when, on the th may, the allied light squadron was seen to be approaching, the dutch prepared to meet the attack by a counter-blow. their anchors were apeak, and they were ready to get under way at a moment's notice. they stood out on the port tack to the n.w., tromp's division, which was the rear according to the formal division of the fleet, being the van in the action. de ruyter was in the centre, and bankert commanded in the rear. so prompt was the action of the dutch that the allied light squadron had not time to run back to the protection of the fleet before the enemy was close on it. it fled in disorder and with loss. the allied commanders were no less completely surprised by the vigour of de ruyter's counter-stroke. they had calculated that the enemy would be too frightened to take the offensive. they thought they had to deal with a terrified opponent, who would have to be slowly and with difficulty worried out of his lurking-places. under this delusion they lay at anchor in some disorder. when, then, de ruyter stood out to attack them, they had to get under way in a hurry, and their line was badly formed when the enemy was upon them. both fleets stood out to sea on the port tack, heading to n.w. the blue division was hotly engaged by tromp, and de ruyter pressed hard on the french in the centre. bankert was opposed to rupert with the red squadron in the rear. the fight was hottest in the van and centre. the red division was comparatively little engaged. according to the french accounts, d'estrées, seeing that rupert was not pressing hard enough on the squadron of bankert, ordered some of his own ships to bear down on the dutch rear, and they succeeded in cutting it off from the centre. then de ruyter, seeing what had happened, tacked with his division, and, running through the french ships, rejoined bankert. his next move, according to the same authority, was to turn again to the north and follow tromp, who in the meantime had continued on the first course engaged with sir edward spragge. it was the fortune of these two to be pitted against one another in all the battles of this campaign. the battle ended in the evening without decisive result. de ruyter anchored near west kappel, and the allied fleet stood over to the coast of england. this was but a lame and impotent conclusion after the vigorous movement with which the french credit themselves. one suspects that the dutch version is nearer the truth--namely, that bankert, finding himself not severely pressed by rupert, stood on to assist de ruyter against the white squadron, and that the allies were timidly handled throughout. certainly, with eighty-one ships and the weather-gage they might well have done more against fifty-five enemies to leeward. the dutch admiral may perhaps have hoped to do sufficient injury to a portion of his enemy's fleet to induce him to return home in order to refit. but the allies continued on the coast, and de ruyter, who must by this time have seen clearly that he was not called upon to contend against great energy or faculty, decided not to wait to be attacked. seven days after the battle of the th of may, on the th of june, he had a favourable wind from the n.e. the deputies of the states accompanied their fleets as well as their armies, but were apparently less timid when sea-fighting was concerned than they were often found to be on shore. though the odds were long against him, the field deputies gave their consent when de ruyter asked leave to attack. on the afternoon of the th he bore down from windward. as on the former occasion, the fleets engaged headed to the n.w., with the rear divisions in the van. the french were no longer in the centre of the allied fleet, but had resumed the van, the place they had held at the battle of solebay, which, as the fleets engaged, was in fact in rear of the line. in this, as in all his battles, de ruyter aimed intelligently at concentrating on a part of the enemy's line, in order to counterbalance a general inferiority in numbers. the brunt of the fighting fell on the two english divisions, the red and the blue. our own historians of the war, who for slovenliness in the use of terms, vagueness of description, and mendacity of assertion are nearly unequalled, maintain that the advantage rested with the allies. rupert, they say, artfully endeavoured to draw the dutch off their own coast by slanting to leeward. the substantial facts covered by this plausible apology are that the dutch and english cannonaded one another until dark; that the english suffered as severely as the enemy, that the french did nothing, and that on the following day the red and blue squadrons were found to have suffered so much that the allies returned to the thames to refit. tromp went back to his own coast, having gained the fruits of victory. he had driven a fleet, more than half again as strong as his own, off the coast of the low countries, had stopped an invasion, and had cleared the road for trade. the utter failure of rupert and d'estrées to sweep the dutch fleet out of the road might have convinced the english court that the time had not come for an invasion of holland from the sea. yet, unless something was done, the war would soon appear as ridiculous to englishmen as it was already odious. the ships were refitted, soldiers were embarked in the men-of-war and others in transports. then the whole force was sent back to the coast of holland, in order, apparently, to try whether, since it had been found impossible to beat the dutch fleet first and land the soldiers afterwards, it might not be possible to do both things at once. on the rd of july the allies were again on the coasts of the low countries, about the mouth of the maas. from this point they prowled along as far as the islands beyond north holland and then back again. de ruyter had been reinforced till he had under his command about seventy ships of the line. as the english and french had also been strengthened till the first numbered sixty and the second thirty battleships, the superiority of the allies was still considerable. true to his policy of not fighting rashly, de ruyter followed the enemy as they sailed to and fro, keeping his own ships in the dangerous banks and shallows, where the sharper-keeled french and english vessels dared not follow. but he was still resolute to strike so soon as he had a fair opportunity. it came on the th of august, when both fleets were close to the texel. on the th the wind was blowing from the sea, and rupert pressed in as close as he dared. during the night de ruyter slipped between the allies and the land and anchored near camperdown. in the morning the wind had shifted to the s.e., giving the weather-gage to the dutch. de ruyter had the permission of the states to give battle, and he came down with his seventy against the ninety of the allies. both fleets were heading to the south, on the port tack. the french were now actually in the van. the red division was in the centre, under the direct command of rupert, with john harman as vice-admiral and chicheley as rear-admiral. sir edward spragge commanded the rear, with kempthorne as second, and the earl of ossory, the son of the duke of ormonde, who served as a rear-admiral not because he was a seaman, but because he was a gallant gentleman, for whom the king had a liking, and the son of a great noble. in the dutch fleet bankert led the first division, de ruyter was at his place in the centre, and tromp was once more opposed to his old foe spragge in the rear. the plan of the dutch admiral was identical with that which he had followed in the previous battles of the war. he decided to concentrate his efforts on the blue and red squadrons. he did not do the french the honour to deal with them seriously. ten vessels were told off under bankert to watch them, and then de ruyter fell with the sixty left to him on the sixty english. the battle broke into three separate engagements. bankert engaged the french at some little distance. being much more numerous than their opponents, it was in the power of the french to stretch ahead, to make the leading ships turn to windward, and so put bankert between two fires. they made the attempt to carry out this obvious movement. the leading subdivision of the white squadron, commanded by m. de martel, turned to windward and gained a position from which it could have fallen on bankert. but the intrepid and steady dutchman was not minded to remain passive till he was taken between two fires. he put his helm up and ran through the french ships still to leeward of him. the french say that the fighting at this moment was hot, and that they almost succeeded in destroying bankert's vessel with a fireship. it would have been unspeakably disgraceful to them if there had not been hot fighting; as it is, their inferiority to either the dutch or english seamen in the contending fleets is demonstrated by bankert's success in carrying out a movement which could never have succeeded against a skilful enemy. it is likely that the heat of the action was felt much more acutely by the french than the dutch. bankert's captains must have been very much wanting to themselves if they did not rake the french ships as they passed through with tremendous effect. when bankert broke through the french fleet, he found rupert and de ruyter to the northward and a little to the leeward of him. the english admiral had not waited quietly for the enemy to bear down upon him. he sheered off a little towards the sea, for the purpose of drawing the dutch out. the intention was to entice them to such a distance from their own coasts, that they might not be able to run back speedily and take refuge among the shallows. it was a somewhat poor-spirited device, since the most effectual way of preventing the dutch from returning to their sandbanks would have been to get between them and the land. rupert's ships were the more weatherly, and, if he had kept his wind and had pressed harder on the dutch, it is possible that he might have worked through them as monk had done in the last of the four days' battle. in any case, severely crippled dutch vessels must have drifted down on his line, and if he had remained steady he might have taken them, whereas by edging away he made them a present of a margin of safety. moreover, he laid himself open to a peril which he may be excused for not having foreseen. when bankert had run through the french and found the two central divisions to leeward of him, it was in his power to join de ruyter by simply putting himself before the wind and coming down. this he did, and his arrival enabled the whole of the dutch centre and van to concentrate on the red squadron. this misfortune might have been averted by the french. the wind which carried bankert to leeward would equally have carried them. but the french did nothing, and, in fact, took no further part in the action. they remained idle until late in the evening, when the battle was over and the victory had fallen to de ruyter. as the dutch admiral pressed closely on rupert, he had broken through the red squadron towards the rear. when bankert's squadron joined him, he was able to concentrate thirty of his ships upon twenty of ours. if the gunnery of the seventeenth century had not been very wild, these vessels must infallibly have been destroyed. if the dutch fleet under the command of admiral de winter in had been able to bring a force proportionately superior to bear on the ships of duncan, he would most certainly have ruined them. but in the earlier century the fire of ships' guns was still very ineffective, and therefore rupert escaped destruction, though he did not escape defeat. the english squadron was compelled to fall away to leeward, and to look about for the help of the blue squadron in the rear. while the french were demonstrating their entire worthlessness as allies, and while rupert was being overpowered, the blue squadron and its immediate opponent, the dutch division of tromp, were carrying on a desperate battle by themselves. the story reads like a passage out of a mediæval chronicle. it has been pointed out already that sir edward spragge had been pitted against tromp in the two previous battles of the war. a species of personal rivalry had grown up between them. while the fleet was refitting in the thames, spragge had visited the court, and there, perhaps provoked by some jest, or perhaps merely in ostentation, had promised the king that he would bring tromp home prisoner from the next battle, or would lose his life in the attempt. having given the promise, spragge was the man to endeavour to keep it. when the battle began, he fixed his attention exclusively on his own conflict with tromp. as the dutch bore down, he did not continue his course in the wake of the red squadron as he should have done, but lay-to to wait for tromp. lying-to means that a ship braces some of her sails round so that the wind blows them against the mast, while the others are still kept in such a position that the wind blows behind them. the two kinds of pressure neutralise one another, and the ship, instead of forging ahead, begins to drift slowly to leeward. she does not remain stationary, because the wind is always pushing her sideways against the water, and, although she moves very slowly, yet she will drift some miles in the course of a few hours. the result of spragge's action was to separate his squadron by a long distance from that of rupert. the prince continued moving to the south, though with a slant towards the west. spragge floated slowly away to the west. he did not go alone. tromp, who was at all times ready enough to separate his squadron from that of his commanding officer, could not resist the temptation offered, and he accepted the challenge thrown out to him by the english admiral. he bore down, and the two squadrons engaged ship to ship. there was no manoeuvring, no attempt on either side to gain an advantage by skilful fence. each side laid on the other with might and main. spragge and tromp engaged ship to ship. spragge's flag was flying in the =royal prince= and tromp's in the _golden lion_. so well were the two matched that they had soon beaten one another to a standstill. then spragge transferred his flag to the =st. george= and tromp his to the _comet_. then they renewed their duel. before long the =st. george= was as complete a wreck as the =royal prince=. once more sir edward spragge prepared to shift his flag, but he was destined to fulfil the alternative promise he had made the king. he was not to bring tromp back a prisoner, but to give his own life in the effort to take him. his boat had hardly gone ten times her length from the side of the =st. george= when it was struck by a cannon-shot, which took a great piece out of the bottom. the crew made a manful attempt to regain the =st. george=, baling the boat and rowing hard. but the damage done was too great the boat went down before they could again reach their ship. sir edward spragge was drowned. of the short list of english admirals who have died in battle, the majority have fallen in action with the dutch. the erratic valour of sir edward caused no small embarrassment to his chief. when he turned towards the blue division, rupert found it miles to leeward of him and in no position to give him any support. the white division showed no sign of coming to his assistance, but lay idle to windward, where it was in vain for the prince to endeavour to reach them. he made no attempt to reunite with his untrustworthy allies, but, turning off before the wind, bore down in the direction of the separate battle raging between the squadrons of tromp and spragge. de ruyter accompanied him, and for a time the battle ceased between the two centre divisions. it may be that their powder was becoming exhausted. the two ran down side by side together, each aiming to regain touch with the rear division of his own fleet. this was effected towards evening, and, the fleets being together again, the action was resumed. the superiority of force was now with the dutch, for the blue division had been very severely cut up in the action with tromp, and de ruyter, having been joined by bankert's squadron, had the whole of his ships together, and excelled the english by some ten vessels. the renewed action lasted until about seven o'clock in the evening, when de ruyter drew off. from the french accounts it appears that they joined rupert about this time. whether de ruyter withdrew because he saw the french coming down, or whether the french plucked up heart of grace on seeing that the dutch had retired, is uncertain. this battle ended the war, and it also ended the possibility of a co-operation between the english and french fleets. it was the firm belief of every man in the navy, from prince rupert downwards, that our allies had betrayed us. the nation was convinced that the fleet was right, and it came to be taken for granted that the count d'estrées had deliberately allowed the english to be overpowered. it was said that he acted on express orders from his king, directing him to keep his squadron out of action and to leave the dutch and the english to exhaust one another. no evidence that any such orders were given has been produced. if it is improbable that they ever were given, the reason is rather that they would have been thoroughly silly than that they would have been base. king louis and his ministers were quite intelligent enough to see that if they allowed the dutch to destroy the english, they would have to deal with them single-handed. there is no need to attribute so much unscrupulous, and withal silly, cunning to the french government. the inexperience of d'estrées, and the natural dislike of englishmen and frenchmen for one another, at least in that century, account quite sufficiently for the failure of the allies to co-operate with success. the french must have been perfectly well aware that the english king's alliance with their master was odious to his subjects. they knew that the english considered them the supporters of popery, and they, for their part, looked upon the english as heretics. in this war the english wished success to their enemy and defeat to their friend. a coalition is seldom successful in war, and, when it is conducted under such conditions as these, is inevitably doomed to defeat. the battle of the texel was the end of the war in europe. when the fleets drew off from one another on the evening of a long day's fighting, there was no list of prizes to show on either side. the loss of life in the english fleet was great, for the ships were crowded with the soldiers who were to have been landed on the coast of holland, and the slaughter had been proportionately severe, but no vessels had been lost. still, the victory was undoubtedly with de ruyter. the allies retired, giving up even the pretence of an attempt to land men or maintain a blockade on the dutch coast. he had, therefore, gained the main object for which he fought; and if that does not constitute victory, it is difficult to attach a definite meaning to the word. the terms on which the allies stood to one another made it certain that they would not act together again, and, if de ruyter did not know that on the evening of the battle, he must have learned it before very long. the relations of the french and english were patent to all the world. there is a story that a dutch sailor, whose comrade expressed some surprise at the inactivity of the french, explained it by saying, "why, you see, they have hired the english to do their fighting for them, and have no business here except to see that their servants do their work." that sailor may not impossibly have been an invention of the dutch press, which was able and active. but the opinion put into his mouth was not unlike what was being said in england. englishmen felt that the king had sold himself and them, to do the work of louis xiv., and the war was intensely unpopular. as was usual with charles, he yielded immediately that the opposition of his parliament and people began to be dangerous. the war was first allowed to die down, and then peace was made in the beginning of . the fighting which took place outside the north sea was not important in this war. some colonial posts were taken and retaken between the english and the dutch in the west indies. sir tobias bridge, who commanded for us, and evertszoon, who led for holland, however, did not come to an engagement. a more interesting passage of warfare took place far to the south in the atlantic. the island of st. helena had been early occupied as a watering station and storehouse by the east india company. it had once before been taken by the dutch, and retaken by us. the dutch were then, and for long afterwards, in possession of the cape of good hope, and it was an obvious object of policy with them to secure possession of all those places on the road to asia which could be used for the purpose of refreshing a fleet. they were always ready to endeavour to correct the oversight by which they had allowed the island to fall into our hands. in , when the news of the outbreak of the war reached the settlement at the cape, an expedition was at once despatched against st. helena. it was beaten off in the first attempt to land, but one of the english planters turned traitor. a convenient landing-place was pointed out by this man. the dutch were able to reach the higher ground, and once there they soon made themselves masters of the east india company's little fort. the governor, whose name was beale, took refuge in a ship then at the anchorage, and fled to brazil. on the coast of brazil he fell in with a squadron consisting partly of the king's ships, the =assistance= and the =levant= and the =castle= fireship, and partly of two vessels belonging to the east india company. it was under the command of sir richard munden. at that time, and indeed to the very close of the eighteenth century, the voyage to the east indies was expected to last six months. vessels on their way out, or on their way home, always put in to the portuguese ports in search of fresh vegetables and water. sir richard munden had been despatched to protect the home-coming east india trade from capture by the dutch "capers" or privateers, which were sure to lie in wait for them at the approaches to the channel. he would naturally go down to meet them where they could be expected. the arrival of the fugitives at once showed munden that he had an even more pressing duty to perform. if st. helena was not recovered from the dutch, the home-coming trade would almost certainly sail into their hands and be lost altogether. he was an officer of great spirit, a tarpaulin seaman of the best stamp, whose tombstone in bromley church records, that though he died at the early age of forty, he had "what upon public duty and what upon merchants' accounts, successfully engaged in fourteen sea fights." munden prepared to retake the island. among the fugitives who had reached brazil with governor beale was a negro named black oliver. black oliver was known to possess an exact knowledge of the landing-places and interior of the island. he had been sold by his master to a portuguese, but munden redeemed him and took him as guide. the english squadron reached the island of st. helena on the afternoon of the th of may . it was not observed by the dutch. by the advice of black oliver, it was decided to land at a spot, afterwards named prosperous bay to record the success of the enterprise. the command of the landing-party was given to richard keigwen, a cornishman, who was first lieutenant of the =assistance=, and who afterwards had a curious and varied career in the service of the east india company. the plan was to climb up the cliffs surrounding the bay, and then go on to the high ground on the side of james's valley, where they would be in a position to dominate the settlement at the only convenient anchorage in the island. it was no easy work to get up the cliffs. there was no path, and, in order to effect the ascent, it was necessary to send one of the party on in advance, who climbed up the precipice with a ball of twine in his pocket. as the climber made his way up, his comrades below called out to him, "hold fast, tom!" and the name has remained attached to the cliff. tom made his way to the top, and then, by use of the twine, hauled up a rope. the rest of the party now scrambled up after him. if the dutch had been on the alert, the enterprise would have been physically impossible, but they were quite unaware that the english were in the island. the party marched past longwood, destined in after times to be the prison of napoleon, and then seized the summit of rupert's hill on the east side of james's valley. at the same time, richard munden brought his ships round to the anchorage, and the dutch, attacked both by sea and land, were compelled to surrender. the success of the english did not end here. news of the taking of st. helena in the previous year had been forwarded to holland. a ship was sent out bringing a dutch governor. she sailed into the anchorage, where munden lay with the dutch flag flying, and was taken. by use of the same stratagem he all but made a further capture of much greater value. a home-coming squadron of six dutch east indiamen came to the island, under the impression that it was in the possession of their countrymen. two of them laden with rich cargoes fell into our hands. the other four escaped through the over-haste of the english ships, which gave them the alarm. still, the success of munden was fairly complete. he returned to england, having achieved a most useful piece of service, and having fairly earned his knighthood. keigwen was left behind as governor, and it is satisfactory to be able to add that black oliver was handsomely rewarded for his services by his freedom and the gift of a little piece of land. the third war with the dutch ended in deserved failure, and was followed by a period of decadence. yet the years between and were, on the whole, a time of growth. the long and generally successful series of operations against the barbary pirates, the victorious campaign of harman in the west indies, the timely intervention of munden so far south in the atlantic as st. helena, the presence of the king's ships at bombay, were proofs that the royal navy was already growing to its full stature. it was putting out its arm round the world, not indeed to take hold as yet, but to feel its way and measure. the advance in organisation was real. though the captain was still only captain while in commission, and the admiral of the red, white, or blue held rank only while the fleet was collected, the foundation of the corps of officers was laid by the list of . the principle was recognised, and a very slight extension of the practical application was all that was required to form a complete establishment. what had been gained was to be held for good. the decline of the navy at the close of king charles's reign was due to the personal and temporary vices of his government. when the reins were again in stronger hands the lost ground could be rapidly recovered, and it would be found that the work of the earlier and better years was a permanent possession. chapter xiv the last years of the stuart dynasty the main sources of information for the period included in this chapter are pepys' _memoirs relating to the state of the royal navy of england for the ten years determined december _, and the diary of his journey to tangier, included in mr. smith's edition of his _letters_. for the naval events of the revolution we possess the memoirs of lord torrington, edited by mr. laughton for the camden society. the fourteen years between the conclusion of the third dutch war and the revolution of saw no new war. the operations against the pirates of the barbary coast have already been described. the events of this interval were first the fall of the navy to a disgraceful pitch of weakness through pure corruption and mismanagement; then its restoration to a sounder condition through the efforts of king james ii.; and lastly, those intrigues which deprived the king of his fleet when the country rose upon him in the autumn of the year of the revolution. there was, it is true, an alarm of war in , and some show of preparation for hostilities was made. it was directed against france. the country would have been willing enough to see itself engaged in a war with france. it feared the ambition of the french king, and would, moreover, have considered hostilities directed against him as a guarantee against roman catholic intrigues at home. commercial disputes also embittered the relations of the two countries. the third dutch war had been very disastrous to english shipping. the dutch, having been compelled to suspend regular commerce, had taken to privateering on a large scale, and in the general inefficiency of our management little had been done to check them. thus our trade had suffered severely. at the close of the war the government had allowed english shipowners to buy foreign-built vessels, contrary to the provisions of the navigation act. as the war between france and holland went on for years after england had made peace, it is probable that many dutch owners took the opportunity to make collusive sales. they, in fact, pretended to sell the vessels when they were only transferring them to an english name, in order to secure protection against french privateers. the french, at anyrate, insisted in treating the transfer of dutch-built vessels as a mere manoeuvre, and in considering them lawful prize. these captures caused great irritation in england, and went to strengthen the general desire for war. but the king would not quarrel with his cousin--at least he would not go further than was necessary to induce the king of france to continue his allowance. the war scare passed over, and the navy was left to rot to within a measurable distance of complete destruction. it would indeed have been wonderful if a service requiring at once the regular expenditure of money and a constant vigilant administrative control had not fallen into a thoroughly bad condition during the last years of the reign of charles ii. the king never had enough money, and he grew daily less capable of controlling his own government. his health was worn out for some years before his death, and he could no longer give constant attention to the affairs of the state, even if he had been willing to make the effort. it is true that the king was not left wholly without pecuniary assistance from parliament. he obtained one grant by consenting to pass the test act, and in parliament gave him £ , to pay for the construction of thirty men-of-war. but these aids were entirely insufficient. the dutch war, adding to the burdens already upon him, had swollen the king's debt to no less a sum than four millions sterling. the closing of the exchequer had made it certain that the king could expect no assistance from the commercial class. thus he suffered from continual penury. it may be allowed that it was his own fault he was not better supplied. it cannot be denied that even what he had, the fixed revenue of the crown and the pensions doled out to him irregularly by the king of france, was wasted. at a time when he was compelled to reduce the salaries of the servants of his household, and when his troops and his fleet were being starved for want of money, the duchess of portsmouth, and other less favoured instruments of his pleasures, drew a very large sum of money. it is a matter of record that they received among them not much less than half of the sum--namely, £ , a year--estimated as necessary for the support of the navy in peace. it would be rash indeed to affirm that their gains were limited to the sums of money entered into the accounts. when a treasury is made a prey to harpies of both sexes of this order, there is hardly any limit to be placed to their rapacity. subordinate officers will profess to have received money for their departments, when, in point of fact, it has really passed into the hands of some courtier who has secured their compliance by a bribe. pepys, indeed, in his _memoirs relating to the state of the royal navy of england for ten years determined december _, asserts that, during the worst time of king charles's reign, the lord high treasurer did annually pay out £ , for the service of the navy. but pepys was a strong royalist, and was writing in , at a time when all partisans of the house of stuart had the most powerful motive for making out a case for the dethroned royal family; and then pepys could only know that the money was formally paid for that service, and not whether it ever reached the hand of the naval officers for any other purpose than to be immediately returned, in part, if not in whole, to the courtiers and the favourites and their agents. pepys' evidence is, at anyrate, conclusive as to this, that whoever stole the money, or whatever sums were set apart for the service of the navy, the king's ships did, during the last years of his reign, sink into abject weakness. between and the king took the administration of the navy into his own hands. in practice, this meant that he was keeping the office of lord high admiral open for his brother, if ever the anti-papal excitement of the time made it safe to restore the duke to his office. the king himself could not, even if he would, give his navy the constant attention required from the chief of an administration. what the king could not do was not done at all. the duke of york, though excluded from office by the test act, appears to have exercised a species of informal control over the navy until , but by that year the country had been worked into a paroxysm of madness by the supposed discovery of the popish plot in , and the duke was believed to be in so much danger that the king persuaded him to retire to the netherlands. in the same year, pepys, who had continued to hold his post on the navy board, was imprisoned in the tower, on a charge of being a convert to popery and a favourite with the papists. he lost his office, and had no further connection with the navy for five years. the king, who lived in terror while the popish plot was still believed to be a real danger, and whose health began to fail about this time, rid himself of even the appearance of trouble in connection with his navy. he appointed a commission to discharge the whole office of the lord high admiral; in other words, he suspended both the office of lord high admiral and the navy office, and gave the whole of the administration of the service to such a board as had ruled the navy for charles i. between the death of the duke of buckingham and the nomination of the earl of northumberland. under the control of these men the navy was all but destroyed. it would be perhaps unjust to lay the blame entirely on their deficiencies. the king had not the money required to pay the expenses of his government, and what he had was pilfered on all hands by servants of all ranks and both sexes. but if they cannot be made to bear the blame alone, they certainly must share it. it is significant that during the years this commission lasted no accounts were kept, nor could any afterwards be obtained. where no accounts were kept, it was doubtless because nobody concerned ventured to say what had really been done with the money: that it was not spent in maintaining the fleet is certain. when pepys was committed to prison in , the king had in commission seventy-six ships, carrying , men. those of the king's ships that were not in commission could, it was estimated, be put to sea at an expense of £ , sterling. the dockyards contained stores to the value of £ , over and above the six months' provisions of war served out to the ships in commission. the thirty ships designed to be built out of the money granted by parliament in were all in course of construction, and eleven of them had just been launched. this picture of the state of the navy in is possibly much flattered. pepys asserts that it must be accepted as trustworthy, because in a report was made to the house of commons which shows the condition of the navy at the time, and is identical with his account of it. he does not add that the report to the commons was made by the navy officers, and was not checked. it is probable that there were a great many suppressions in pepys' account. he had made out a plausible case for the navy office in , when it was found necessary to throw dust in the eyes of the house of commons. yet at that very time he was drawing up a confidential statement for the benefit of the duke of york, in which he shows that the members of the board neglected their duty, that the lord high admiral's instructions of - were disregarded, and that the department was in need of a thorough overhaul if it was to escape falling into total inefficiency. there was exactly the same reverse to the fine portrait which pepys drew of the navy in . yet, though it was wastefully maintained and suffered from many defects, there at least was a navy in that year. five years later there was hardly any navy in existence. twenty-four ships only were in commission. they were all small, and carried among them only men. the ships not in commission were so out of repair, not through service, but through pure neglect, that £ , would have been required to fit them for sea; while the whole of the stores in the magazines hardly amounted in value to £ . the state of the thirty new ships in hand when mr. pepys was imprisoned was worse even than that of the old vessels. most of them had never even been in commission, and yet they were ready to sink at their moorings from pure rottenness. "the greatest part nevertheless of these _thirty ships_ (without having ever yet lookt out of _harbour_) were let to sink into such distress, through _decays_ contracted in their _buttocks_, _quarters_, _bows_, _thickstuff_ without _board_, and _spirkettings_ upon their _gun-decks_ within; their _buttock-planks_ some of them _started_ from their _transums_, _tree-nails_ burnt and rotted, and _planks_ thereby become ready to drop into the _water_, as being (with their neighbouring _timbers_) in many places perish'd to _powder_, to the rendring them unable with safety to admit of being _breem'd_, for fear of taking _fire_; and their whole _sides_ more disguised by _shot-boards_ nail'd, and _plaisters_ of _canvas_ pitch'd thereon (for hiding their _defects_, and keeping them above _water_) than has been usually seen upon the coming in of a _fleet_ after a battle; that several of them had been newly reported by the _navy-board_ itself, to lye in danger of _sinking_ at their very _moorings_." the breeming or, according to modern spelling, breaming of a ship was the act of cleaning the bottom by burning off the ooze, sedge, shells, or seaweed which adhered to it during a long stay in harbour. when vessels were not coppered, they easily became foul. the fire, applied by faggots of wood or reed, melted the ship's coating of pitch, and whatever adhered to it could easily be scraped off, and the ship covered with a new coating of tar or tallow. of course, if the ship had been allowed to rot until she was in the condition of tinder, this could not possibly be done without danger. this was the return for £ , of money voted by the parliament and actually paid into the hands of the treasurer of the navy. "the strict provision made by parliament, the repeated injunctions of his majesty, the orders of the then lord treasurer and ampleness of the helps purposely allowed (to the full of their own demands and undertakings) for securing a satisfactory account of the charge and build of the said ships," were all useless. such was the state of the navy when the king, just before his death, in february , resumed the administration into his own hands, and decided to govern it once more by the advice of his brother, the duke of york. the duke brought back pepys, who was living in retirement at windsor. nothing could be done during the brief remainder of the life of charles ii., and not much was effected during the first year of king james's reign. in the january of the condition of the fleet, if not worse, was as bad as ever. ninety thousand pounds had been spent on the repair of ships, and yet the navy officers were demanding as much more before they could undertake to put the ships in a state of repair. not a quarter of the ships were graved, that is, docked and cleaned so as to be fit for service. during monmouth's rebellion the navy could hardly contrive to fit out a squadron; nothing had been done to the thirty new ships, and the magazines of stores were empty. it was clear that, unless strong measures were taken, the navy would perish utterly. king james was certainly not a great commander, and he was a very bad king. still he had so far a genuine interest in the navy, and the feelings becoming an english king, that he was willing to save the fleet. to say that he did the work himself would be going too far, but he did decide that it should be done. he chose the men who could do it, and he supported them in the discharge of their duty. following the precedent set by his grandfather, james i., after the report of the commission in , the king decided to appoint a special commission. he did not entirely dismiss the members of the existing naval administration, but he added four to their number. these four were sir anthony deane, the well-known shipbuilder, sir john berry, the naval officer who has been mentioned already as serving against the french and dutch in the west indies, mr. hewer, and mr. st. michael. all four, if we may believe his word, were chosen on the recommendation of pepys. the real power was in the hands of the new members. the old officers, lord falkland, sir j. tippets, sir richard haddock, and mr. southerne, were set apart to endeavour to reduce the accounts for the past five years into some sort of order. they appear to have had no other share in the administration. lord falkland, indeed, remained treasurer of the navy, but in that capacity he would have little to do except receive money from the lord high treasurer, and pass it on to the other departments. sir p. pett and sir r. beach, who were on the old commission, were employed only at chatham and portsmouth. sir john narbrough and sir j. godwin, also members of the old commission, served on the board with deane, berry, and hewer. st. michael was commissioner only at deptford and woolwich. pepys did not resume his seat on the navy board, but was appointed secretary to the admiralty, which, as the king kept the office of lord high admiral to himself, meant that for all practical purposes the government of the navy was in his hands. the commission was appointed in april , and was determined on the th of october . during these two years the commissioners brought the navy into the condition which enabled it to be used as an effective instrument after the revolution. they did not succeed, and they did not pretend to have succeeded, in removing all the defects caused by so many previous years of corruption and mismanagement. the sum for which the commission undertook to do this work was £ , a year. it received the money for two years and a half, from the th march till the th of october . the total sum received was £ , , , s. the money actually spent on the navy was not more than £ , a year, leaving a balance of £ , , s. d. to the credit of the commissioners. pepys records, not without a certain wistful regret, that if the work had been done by contract, the commissioners would have put all this money into their own pockets, while as a matter of fact they got nothing but their modest salaries. it would be pedantic to demand a too minute accuracy from pepys or any englishman of his generation on such a point. yet it does seem to be the case that the work was thoroughly done. when the commission was determined in october , amid the fall of the stuart dynasty, there were ships of the navy in commission, carrying , men. its total force was vessels, of which were of the first rate, of the second, of the third, of the fourth, of the fifth, and of the sixth. the fireships were in number, and there were yachts; a few bombs hoys, hulks, ketches, and smacks made up the remainder. it was estimated that , men were required to man these ships, and that they carried guns. it is the boast of pepys that at this date all the officers and men of the navy were paid, nothing was owing to the contractors, and the magazines were full to overflowing of stores. there is a curious similarity between the fortunes of james ii. and his father. both took a keen interest in their navy, both did much to strengthen it, and it was the instrument which mainly served in the ruin of both. northumberland threw the navy of charles i. into the hands of parliament, and thereby gave it the means of cutting the king off from his friends over the sea. the navy went over to the side of the revolution in , and was henceforth successfully engaged in preventing the return of king james to england. great part of the work of the commission consisted in reducing administrative anarchy to order. the accounts were brought into a proper condition mainly by hewer. but there was another part of its work, or of the work done through it by the king, which was designed to effect a much-needed reform in the conduct of the naval officer. it has been said already that the king's captains had from old been in the habit of adding to their salaries by carrying cargoes for money. they also seem to have taken money for carrying english merchants abroad. the parliament had endeavoured to check these practices, which lent themselves to obvious abuses, by its orders in . under the council of state and the protectorate they were kept down by vigilant administrative control. but during the progressive degradation of the reign of charles ii. they had revived till they became a crying abuse. during the later years of the king they reached an intolerable point. whether they were worse among the ships appointed to protect the trade in the mediterranean than elsewhere is perhaps doubtful. but for this squadron we have again the testimony of pepys. in the king, being now absolutely at the end of his resources, decided to withdraw the costly garrison of tangier. a squadron was sent out under the command of george legge, lord dartmouth, with orders to bring back the troops and "destroy them all." pepys accompanied dartmouth, and the journal of his voyage has been preserved. it contains an astonishing picture of the condition of the squadron then serving in the straits. this force was commanded by arthur herbert, who had been left in command in the mediterranean by narbrough. there is a general consensus of opinion among all who knew him, that this man, though personally very brave, was self-indulgent, debauched, and unscrupulous. under his fostering care the vices of the naval life of the time reached their height. though he had gone to sea young, he ranks among the gentlemen captains and not among the tarpaulins. the character of a gentleman captain was this, that he exercised his command for his own pleasure and profit. the tarpaulin captain or admiral was often more of a gentleman by birth than has commonly been supposed. yet he was of humbler birth than such a man as herbert, and the tradition of his class was more wholesome. the difference between them was, that the gentleman captain came of that class of cavaliers who after the restoration consoled themselves for the misfortunes of the civil war by settling like a swarm of bloodsuckers on the treasury; or, if his family were not cavaliers, he at least endeavoured to obtain that distinction by assuming what the satirist butler, himself a cavalier of the cavaliers, called the hypocrisy of vice of the time. the tarpaulin captains were those men whom pepys had once seen, from penn downwards, sober, valiant, and loyal to their duty, and whom he saw at tangier and cadiz imitating the excesses of the prevailing class. it is impossible to dismiss the picture drawn by pepys as a mere exaggeration. it is too consistent with everything else we know. from his account, then, we learn that the squadron at cadiz was managed for the personal profit of herbert and his friends. a great part of our trade at cadiz consisted in the bullion imported by the spaniards from their silver mines in south america. according to spanish law, this ought not to have been exported, but as a matter of fact it was generally transferred at sea to dutch and english vessels. merchants naturally desired to send home cargoes of such value in armed ships as a security against pirates. they were glad to find a king's ship that would take it, and were ready to pay the captain a percentage. as no captain could sail without leave of the commander of the squadron, it will be seen what opportunities this system placed in herbert's way. no officer could get a cargo except by sharing the profits with him. the captain who would toady and pay, who would attend the admiral "at his rising and going to bed, combing his periwig, putting on his coat as the king is served," got a cargo. the captain who would not, did not. herbert in the meantime lived on shore, keeping a harem, "his mistresses visited and attended one after another as the king's are." drunkenness seems to have been, if pepys is to be believed, one of the least vices of the squadron. it is probable that the report pepys brought back from tangier had much to do with persuading the king to make an effort to cleanse the navy of these excesses by so improving the pay of his captains as to raise them above the temptation of seeking dishonourable profit. bad pay is certainly no excuse for the conduct described by pepys, but an officer who could not live on his salary was strongly tempted to make the deficiency good by irregular means. the king decided to make an allowance to his captains calculated on a very liberal scale. this is the list as given by pepys. a table of the annual allowance of a sea-commander of each rate. rate. present wages. present victualling. additional grant for table. £ s. d. £ s. d. £ s. d. it will be seen that this grant of table-money had the effect of nearly doubling the pay of every captain on active service. the object of the king was to make it from henceforward unpardonable in any naval officer to neglect his duty for the sake of profit. he did not confine himself merely to increasing the salaries, but promised that in future the captains engaged in service against his enemies should have the whole benefit of the prizes taken from the enemy. they were to be "divided between the commander or commanders of such our ship or ships (with their officers and companies) as were concerned in the chase and capture of the said prizes according to the law and practice of the sea." in conclusion, the king promised to give special rewards to such officers as gave "any signal instances of their industry, courage, conduct, or frugality." this order was issued by the king at windsor, on the th of july . it was not without reason that the king thought he had attached his navy firmly to himself, and that he could rely implicitly on its loyalty. yet before two years were past his fleet was turning against him, and a few months later it failed him no less completely than his army. the navy, no doubt, moved with the nation, but the men in command might have been expected to prove personally loyal to the king, who had treated them with signal kindness. yet, as a body, and with few exceptions, they deserted him in his need. their motives were no doubt similar to those of other englishmen of the time. some were frightened by the favour he showed to the roman catholics, and rebelled out of zeal to the church. others came, like churchill, to the conclusion that in the long-run no man who was not prepared to become an apostate could expect favour from the king. there were certainly not a few who remained perfectly loyal till they discovered the whole extent of the king's danger, and who then hastened to make their peace with his enemies. the sailors as a class were, as they had been in the civil war, strongly protestant. the majority of them still came from the southern and eastern counties, the most puritan parts of england. so soon as the opposition to the king's government became general, and leaders were found to appeal to the sailors, there could be very little doubt that the fleet would go with the rest of the country. during and the early months of the king was steadily alienating the mass of his subjects. sailors felt as other men did, and they were conspicuous in the crowd which applauded the acquittal of the seven bishops. there was no want of leaders to bring them over to the side of those who were preparing to upset the king's government. the two chiefs of the sailors who played conspicuous parts in the revolution were gentlemen captains. edward russell was the grandson of the earl of bedford, and the first cousin of the lord william russell executed for his share in the rye house conspiracy. he had gone to sea young, and had seen much service. but the importance of the part he played was due less to his personal influence and reputation than to the dignity of his family. the part he took was natural enough, for the russells were leaders of the whigs. the action of arthur herbert was less to have been expected. his family were strong royalists. his father had been attorney-general to charles i., and his brother, sir edward herbert, was a very royalist judge. sir edward did indeed lose the favour of his master by opposition to the king's arbitrary treatment of the fellows of magdalen, but he remained loyal. under a similar provocation arthur herbert took a very different course. it is said that the king, who at one time had been largely influenced by him in the management of naval matters, had transferred much of his favour to george legge, earl of dartmouth. dartmouth also was a gentleman captain bred to the sea. it may be that the stories he brought back from tangier had done something to turn the king against herbert. the fact that pepys (whose opinion of herbert had already been given) was secretary of the admiralty must also be allowed for. yet the king made him master of the robes and rear-admiral of england. in , when james was endeavouring to persuade all men of mark in england to support his claim to be entitled to dispense with penal statutes, he appealed to herbert among others. the admiral, according to the well-known story, replied that his honour and conscience would not allow him to do what the king wished. the answer of the king, which seems to have been really given, is one of the innumerable proofs that he must have been a very silly man. he told herbert that a gentleman of his habits of life had no right to talk of his conscience, which, coming from the master of the notorious brouncker to a courtier who was perfectly aware of the facts, was portentously foolish. herbert made the obvious reply that there were people whose lives were no cleaner than his who made a much greater profession of religion. this in the circumstances was a richly-deserved piece of impertinence. provoked perhaps as much by the snub as by the admiral's refusal to support his policy, the king dismissed herbert from his places, and caused his accounts as master of the robes to be severely examined. the admiral was not the man to submit to the displeasure of the king as his brother sir edward had done. he applied himself to making the lord's anointed pay for depriving him of four thousand pounds a year. he went over to holland, and there organised the naval part of the conspiracy. russell remained in england, where he formed part of the whig council, but made occasional trips in disguise across the north sea. subordinate agents were required to work directly on the ships' companies under the direction of these two chiefs. during the summer of rumours that the prince of orange was about to intervene on behalf of the protestant interest were rife. a small squadron was armed by the king and put under the command of sir roger strickland, one of the few roman catholic officers amongst the seamen. the king, with characteristic folly, had chosen this gentleman to succeed herbert as rear-admiral of england. strickland appears, from the little that is known of him, to have had no more tact or practical faculty than his master. he endeavoured to cause mass to be said in his ships, with the immediate result that the crews threatened to throw the priests overboard. this was too much even for the king. he did not indeed remove strickland from active service, but he appointed dartmouth to command over him. the disposition of the crews must have shown the conspirators that it would be no very difficult task to make the fleet useless to the king, and the history of the movements of the squadron show that they were perfectly successful. the immediate agents of the enemies of king james seem to have been two: the higher in rank, but not the most effectual, was captain aylmer, afterwards lord aylmer; the other was george byng, the first lieutenant of the =defiance=, then commanded by captain ashby. byng behaved in a manner to justify the praise given him in lord hervey's memoirs, namely, that "he had been in his youth a resolute, able, enterprising fellow; mercenary and knowing in his business." sir roger strickland hoisted his flag in august, and he had then with him twenty-six vessels. they were very ill manned, and strickland asked that soldiers might be sent to fill up his crews. it may be that strickland distrusted the spirit of his command. at anyrate, the plan of action he proposed was not one likely to occur to a bold man who felt confident that his squadron would fight. after consulting with his captains, he proposed to the king to lie at the gunfleet, with an advance squadron on the coast of holland. this was rightly rejected by king james. a squadron at the gunfleet would have been nearly helpless against a dutch fleet standing across the north sea with an easterly wind, and it was only when the wind was from this quarter that an attack was to be feared. strickland was ordered to station himself between the north sands head and kentish knock, to keep under sail by day, and only to anchor at night. it was while on this station that he nearly provoked a mutiny in his fleet, by causing mass to be performed. a stronger squadron and a stronger admiral were both needed. dartmouth was sent to command, and the force of twenty-six ships was raised to sixty-one, of which thirty-eight were of the line-of-battle class. they were still ill manned, partly, no doubt, for the usual reasons, that men could not be got except by the press, and the press acted slowly. but there were other causes at work. the king's officers were loath to attract ill-will at a time when their master's danger was patent to everybody but himself. then, too, numbers of english sailors had made their way across the north sea, and were preparing to man the ships of the prince of orange under the command of russell and herbert. even if the ships had been well manned, there was a fatal cause of weakness within. the memoirs of byng, published a few years ago, have enabled us to get a glimpse of the means taken to bring the fleet over to the side of the revolution. his biographer, who was no doubt supplied with information by himself, tells us that byng had been early entrusted with the knowledge of what was doing. at a meeting at which the duke of ormonde, general kirke, and captain aylmer were present in london, byng was especially charged with the duty of bringing over his own captain, ashby of the =defiance=, and captain wolfran cornwall. byng is honourably candid as to his own motives. of the protestant religion and the liberties of england he says not one syllable, but confines himself to telling us that "finding by further discourse that general kirke, mr. russell, and other particular persons were going over to the prince of orange, he then became willing to agree to their undertaking." in plain english, he found that the king's government was in great danger, and, being a resolute, able, enterprising fellow, he very sagaciously resolved to be on the winning side. with a modest distrust of his influence over his captain, he left ashby to be dealt with by aylmer. yet, when aylmer failed, he exerted himself. ashby was finally persuaded to become a well-wisher to the cause. he had just declared "that in their profession they were not taught to turn against the king." it was only when mr. byng showed him "the dispositions of the most considerable persons in the fleet," that ashby was induced to take up arms against the danger of popish superstition. the conversion of captain cornwall was somewhat more difficult. "mr. cornwall was more difficult to be persuaded from [his violence of temper and zeal for the king; and none but his most intimate friend coud undertake to mention it to him]; and in their discourse, cornwall expressed the obligations of himself and family to the king, and thought it a villany in those who attempted anything against him. but when mr. byng named some persons that were engaged in it, that was his most intimate and particular friends [as mr. herbert, kirk, russell, etc., he was confounded, and upon his further naming a captain of the fleet who was a most intimate friend of his, and of whom he had the best opinion of as a very rightous person, he was surprised; but being told so by himself as they were at supper at night, here met for that purpose], he gave up his zeal for the king; and from that time no man was more heartily in the cause, using his endeavour to bring over severall in his own ship; and continued heartily attached to the revolution principles to the day of his death." these captains--and there were doubtless many like them--would have remained loyal to the king, if it had not been made clear to them that his government was undermined. since the broom was to be used, they decided that it was more prudent to be on the side of the handle. dartmouth, who took command of his squadron on the nd of october, was personally loyal, but he was also weak. it may be that he was dimly aware of the spirit of his squadron, and feared to put its loyalty to the test. the obvious way to prevent the prince of orange from coming over was to station the squadron on the coast of holland, and attack him as soon as he came to sea. in the westerly winds the english could return to their own coast for provisions, knowing that the dutch could not put to sea; with the wind in the east it was safe for them to lie close up to the dutch coast. the next best course would be to lie in the downs, from which the english fleet could start in pursuit of the prince, whether he attempted to go up the thames or down the channel. dartmouth was in favour of the bolder course, and it is said that the majority of the captains were still loyal. the minority had, however, sufficient influence to get it arranged that the fleet should lie at anchor by the gunfleet, inside the shipwash, a long, narrow, and dangerous sand stretching in front of harwich. here it proved absolutely useless when the fleet of the deliverer passed it in a hard gale from the e.s.e. on the rd of november. six of the prince's ships were seen from dartmouth's fleet. the king's fleet had their top-gallant masts and yards down on the deck, and, even when they got them up, were unable to clear the sand. the prince of orange was allowed to run through the straits of dover, and reach tor bay unmolested. dartmouth at last followed. if he had still any delusions as to the spirit of his squadron, they were soon dispelled. some of his captains, in fact, had already resolved to go over to the enemy, if they met them. these men, working on the fears and weakness of others, were able to induce a council of war, held on the th of november, off beachy head, to decide not to fight, if an action could be avoided "with honour." next day the wind turned round to the west. it will be remembered that this shift of the wind stopped the progress of the prince's ships. yet, when it once more swung round to the west, the deliverer stood on to tor bay, while the king's fleet, under dartmouth, returned tamely into the downs. on the th he did stand to sea, and made his way to the west, but fresh gales of wind scattered his ships. some of the captains were eager to take the opportunity of going over to the prince. captain ashby of the =defiance= would have carried his vessel into tor bay, if he had not met sir roger strickland, as the gale died down. it was thought better to run no risks, and the =defiance= joined dartmouth with the rest of the fleet at spithead. in truth, it mattered very little where the ships went now. the prince of orange had landed, and was marching to london. the officers of the ships at spithead heard what was happening by rumour. some of them were eager to call attention to their zeal for the cause. at the close of november, byng was despatched with a message. he applied for leave from dartmouth to visit a relation in huntingdonshire, and when it was given, probably because the admiral thought it was useless to refuse, went off in the disguise of a farmer. on the way he fell in with a part of oxford's regiment of horse, but, thanks to his disguise, was not molested. at salisbury he found the inn full of relations and acquaintances of his own, officers of the army who had deserted the king, and were making their way westward to join the prince of orange. at sherborne, byng finally reached the prince, to whom he was presented by russell. william received him kindly, promised to reward his services, and "sent him back with an answer to the officers of the fleet, and with a letter to lord dartmouth to acquaint him with the necessity of his coming over, and of his intentions to continue him at the head of the fleet; with promises that admiral herbert [between whom there was some variance] should not be advanced over him. this letter the prince advised mr. byng to put into the stuffing of his saddle, lest, in case he was seized, it should not be found upon him; but he thought it best to quilt it in the rollers of his breeches. so mr. byng taking his leave returned safely to the fleet again." the letter was left on dartmouth's dressing-table by captain aylmer. the biographer does not inform us whether aylmer had or had not just been engaged in curling dartmouth's periwig. the admiral is said to have been influenced by this letter into taking a more favourable view of the prince's cause. in truth, he had lost all control over his squadron. he only escaped a scheme hatched by some of his captains to put him under arrest, through the loyalty of captain david lloyd, a "plain strict man," who remained faithful to the king, and was a noted jacobite agent in the coming years. when king james sent the little prince of wales down to portsmouth to be carried over to france, dartmouth would have been unable to execute his orders, even if he had wished to do so. he ended by submitting to the prince of orange. on the th of december the fleet at spithead was broken up. dartmouth sailed with a part of the ships for the nore, and the others were left at spithead, under the command of sir john berry. the history of the navy under the house of stuart ends here. the motives of those who were most active in bringing it over to the side of the revolution have been sufficiently indicated in these extracts from byng's memoirs. it completes the picture, that byng was made very angry when the vacant command of a sixth-rate was given to another officer, and was only soothed by being appointed to the command of the =constant warwick=. it cannot be said that any great zeal for a cause animated these men. the navy followed the country in deserting a worn-out and incapable dynasty. no doubt it did well, but we cannot say that it acted magnanimously. the later stuarts were punished where they sinned. they came back making a great parade of cynicism, declaring that any man who professed to act on any higher motive than a regard for his own interests was a canting rogue. they were taken at their word. the time came when it was nobody's interest to fight for james ii., and not a sword was drawn for him in his fleet. they set the example of making the gratification of their own pleasures the one rule of their conduct. their servants did the same. the king had no right to complain. but the spectacle of a master deserted by those to whom he had been kind, and who had been loudest in professing loyalty, so soon as they found that he was giving the places to others, has something in it, which, even when we recognise that the nation benefited by the action, cannot well be called other than ignoble. the moral of so plain a story as this ought surely to be obvious. yet the failure of the fleet to bar the road to the prince of orange has been quoted in support of the contention that a strong navy is not the sufficient defence of this country against invasion. a moment's consideration ought to show any unprepossessed mind that the events of the autumn of prove nothing of the sort. if the navy failed then, it was for precisely the reasons which caused the army to be useless to king james, namely, active treason on the part of the officers, and an acquiescent want of loyalty in the ranks. neither sailor nor soldier wished to win, and therefore the invasion succeeded. we may see the story of repeated again when englishmen consider the government their enemy, and its assailant from abroad their friend--but not till then. index admiral, first, of title, ; of northern fleet, of western fleet, of irish sea, _ibid._ admiral, lord high, power of his office, . admiral's regiment. see marines. admiralty, origin of, ; commission of, . aguila, juan del, spanish commander, . alards of winchelsea, admirals, . algiers, expedition against pirates of, - . allen, sir thomas, commands in straits, , ; commands white division, ; commands against barbary pirates, . amsterdam, new, dutch colony seized by sir r. holmes, . appleton, captain henry, at leghorn, - . aquitaine, ships of, used by kings of england, . armada, invincible, - . armament of ships, , - . arundel, earl of, why put in command of western fleet, . arundel, sir john, his shipwreck, . ashby, captain john, how persuaded to betray king, ; proposes to go to torbay, . ashley, lord, afterwards earl of shaftesbury, commissioner of prizes, . axon, captain of =garland=, . aylmer, captain, share in revolution, , . ayscue, sir george, blockades rupert, ; appointed to reduce plantations, ; reduces barbadoes, , ; returns home, ; at plymouth, ; in downs, ; attacks de ruyter's convoy, ; removed from command, ; in blue squadron, ; surrenders to dutch, ; reported ill-treatment of, by dutch, . badiley, captain richard, succeeds penn in mediterranean, ; at zante, ; his action with dutch, ; and operations near elba and leghorn, - . bahuchet, french admiral, . ball, captain, sent to coerce danes, . bankert, dutch admiral, ; at battle of texel, , . barbadoes, island of, held for king, , ; penn and venables at, . barbary pirates, ; lawson cruises against, , ; expeditions against, - . barbavera, genoese in french service, . barton, andrew, scotch pirate, . baskerville, sir thomas, commands soldiers in expedition of , ; brings home squadron, . batten, william, surveyor, ; fires on queen at bridlington, ; removed from command, ; escapes from london, and joins prince of wales, ; discontent of royalists with, ; goes back to parliament, . batten, captain of =bonaventure=, . bazan, alonso de, takes the =revenge=, - . bazan, Álvaro de, marquess of la cruz, spanish admiral, , . beach, captain, destroys the algerines, . beale, governor of st. helena, . beauchamp, sir john, k.g., first admiral for all the seas, . beaufort, duke of, his squadron, . beggars of sea, what were, . bergen, attack on dutch at, - . berkeley, sir w., killed in four days' battle, ; story of dutch insult to body of, ; his body embalmed and sent home, . berry, john, story of, ; takes command at spithead, ; on commission of , . bertendona, martin de, commands squadron of italy in armada, . black oliver, serves in retaking of st. helena, , . blackburn, admiral for north, . blagg, ensign, gallant death of, . blake, benjamin, accused of misconduct, . blake, colonel robert, admiral and general at sea, ; blockades rupert, ; ordered to pursue, ; services against rupert, - ; returns to england, ; helps in reduction of channel islands, ; action with tromp, , ; sails north, ; replaces ayscue in channel, ; brush with french, ; defeats dutch near kentish knock, - ; fights battle of dungeness, , ; offers to resign, and makes complaint of officers, ; in battle of portland, ; wounded, ; commands squadron in thames, ; joins fleet, ; health breaks down, ; prepares to sail to mediterranean, ; cruise in mediterranean, - ; returns, _ibid._; blockades cadiz, _ibid._; attacks spanish ships at santa cruz, , ; greatness of the achievement, ; his death, _ibid._ board, navy. see navy office. bocanegra, ambrosio, genoese admiral of castile, . bombay taken possession of, . bougie, sir e. spragge attacks pirates at, , . bourne, nicholas, rear-admiral, afterwards commissioner, at harwich; in battle of dover, , . boyle, mr., killed, . brackel, captain, breaks the chain at gillingham reach, . breda, negotiations at, . brest, battle of, in , . bridge, sir tobias, cruises in west indies, . bridlington, queen henrietta maria lands at, . brouncker, mr., brings order to shorten sail, . brown paper stuff, what was, . brunsvelt, schoutbynacht, . buckingham. see villiers, george. byng, george, exertions in revolution, , ; carries message from fleet, ; appointed to command of =constant warwick=, . cabal, how composed, . cadiz, attack on, - ; second attack on, ; bullion trade at, , . calais, possession of, by england gives command of straits, . camperdown, english and dutch fleets anchor near, . cárdenas, don alonso de, spanish ambassador, his answer to cromwell, . carteret, sir george, expelled from navy office, . castle, mr., shipbuilder, . catharine of braganza, queen of charles ii., . catz, dutch officer in command near leghorn, . cecil, sir edward, commands expedition to cadiz, . chalmer, mr., . charles i., king, reasons for defects of navy in his reign, ; desire to strengthen fleet, ; tries to extort money from spanish fleet, ; fleet turns against, ; execution of, . charles, prince of wales, afterwards charles ii., joined by part of navy, ; comes on coast of norfolk and into thames, . charles ii., king, his character and interest in navy, , ; reasons for disliking dutch, ; decides to reduce fleet, ; becomes tired of war, ; his secret plans, ; joins louis xiv. in attack on holland, , ; accepts test act, ; decline of navy in his last years, . chatham, attack on, by dutch, - . chips, what were, . cinque ports, men of, at dover, ; their quota, ; services and decline, _ibid._ clerk of ships or of navy. see navy office. clifford, george, earl of cumberland, his voyages, - . clifford, sir george, joins the fleet, ; describes sailing of fleet, . closing of the exchequer, . clytherow, richard, admiral for south and west, . commission to inquire into state of navy proposed, ; appointed, ; its report, - . comptroller. see navy office. _cordelier_, french ship, burnt, . cormat, or cormac, associate of pirates, - . cornwall, captain wolfran, how induced to betray king, . courtenaer, dutch admiral, . coventry, sir william, secretary to duke of york, ; criticises sandwich, ; attends funeral of sir c. myngs, . cox, captain owen, sent to warn badiley, . cromwell, oliver, government of, , ; resolves to attack spain, _ibid._; orders to penn and venables, , ; death of, . cromwell, richard, sends fleet to north, . cubitt, captain of =tulip=, quoted, . cumberland. see clifford, george, earl of. cuttins, in blue squadron, . dakins, rear-admiral, . d'annebault, french admiral, commands at st. helens, - ; his retreat, ; anchors at shoreham, . darcy, mr. thomas, first-known king's letter boy, . dartmouth, lord. see legge, george. dead pays, what were, . deane, sir anthony, shipbuilder, ; on commission of , . deane, colonel richard, admiral and general at sea, ; summoned from scotland to fleet, ; in battle of portland, ; wounded, ; his death, . descharges of brest invented portholes, . d'estrées, french admiral, ; conduct of, at solebay, , ; in downs, ; at battle of texel, - . de liefde, dutch vice-admiral, . denbigh, earl of, commander in channel, . denmark, king of, agrees to plunder dutch, . de ruyter, michael adrianzoon, appointed to succeed tromp, ; defends convoy, ; outmanoeuvres penn, , ; in battle of kentish knock, - ; commands van of dutch fleet, ; in mediterranean, ; sails in pursuit of sir r. holmes, ; with convoy, ; appointed admiral, ; relieves dutch at bergen, , ; at sea, ; in four days' battle, - ; cruises at mouth of thames, ; at boulogne, ; directs attack on chatham, - ; his attack on chatham, - ; appointed to command of dutch fleet, ; masterly management at solebay, - ; his great qualities of command, ; his conduct of campaign of , - . de with, cornelius witte, appointed to succeed tromp, ; in battle of kentish knock, - ; quoted, . de witt, cornelius, delegate with dutch fleet at chatham, , . de witt, john, grand pensionary, ; orders to de ruyter, ; retaliates for sir r. holmes's cruise, , ; severe measures, ; joins fleet as deputy, ; eager for peace, ; endeavours to secure allies, ; murdered with his brother cornelius, . dover, battle of, , ; battle near, , ; treaty of, , . downing, sir george, ambassador in holland, - . drake, sir francis, with hawkins, ; his expeditions to west indies, , ; commands expedition of to west indies, ; expedition to cadiz, , ; captures don pedro de valdes, ; in expedition to portugal, ; last expedition to west indies, and death, - . dudley, ambrose, earl of warwick, commands at havre, . dungeness, battle of, . dutch, our disputes with, as to flag, and blockade, ; war, causes of first, , ; defects of their naval administration, , ; preliminaries of second war with, - ; third war with, infamous character of, ; english declaration of war with, ; war with, unpopular in england, , . earl of salisbury, william longsword, burns french ships at damme, . east india company, dutch, . echyngham, sir edward, report to wolsey, ; reports death of sir e. howard, , . edward iii., king, at sluys, - ; at espagnols sur mer, - ; decline of navy at end of his reign, , . effingham, lord howard of, lord high admiral, his character, ; his fleet scattered by storm, ; offers to pay for great ships, ; sends defiance to spanish fleet, ; follows but does not attack spaniards, ; neglects administration of, , ; resigns office, . elizabeth, queen, revives the navy, , ; her poverty, and love of tricks, ; rebukes hawkins, . elliot, captain, commands advance squadron, . espagnols sur mer, battle of, - . essex county, story of gentlemen of, , . essex, earl of, commands an attack on cadiz, ; voyage to isles, , . essex, earl of, the young, serves in second expedition to cadiz, . eustace the monk, who was, ; his defeat and death, , . evertsen, dutch admiral, . evertszoon, jan, dutch admiral, - ; commands dutch van, ; commands dutch squadron in west indies, . evertszoon, schoutbynacht, . falkland, lord, treasurer of navy, . falmouth, earl of, killed, . =fan-fan=, story of, . fireships, use of, at calais, . fishermen's war, , . flags, used in ; used by parliament, . flores de valdes, diego, commands squadron of castile in armada, ; his character, . four days' battle, - . francis i., king of france, efforts to form fleet, . frobisher, sir martin, voyage to isles with hawkins, . =gabriel=, her crew, , . gage, thomas, author of _new survey of the west indies_, ; in attack on jamaica, . galen, jan van, succeeds catz, ; operations near leghorn, - . garde, baron de la, commands french galleys, . gillingham reach, chain in, , . godwin, j., commissioner of navy, . gomez de medina, juan, has command in armada, . goodson, vice-admiral, ; his regiment, ; gallant conduct of regiment, ; remains at jamaica, ; dismissed, . gravelines, battle of, . grenville, vice-admiral sir richard, his action in the =revenge=, and death, - . guard, winter and summer, what was, , . haddock, sir richard, account of, ; commissioner of navy, . hall, captain edward, commands squadron, ; letter quoted, _ibid._ harman, sir john, captain of flagship, ; wounded in four days' battle, ; his cruise to west indies, - ; rear-admiral of red, ; at battle of texel, . harold, king, disbands his fleet, ; why, _ibid._ hastings, john, earl of pembroke, defeated at rochelle, . hawkins, sir john, treasurer and comptroller of navy, ; first voyage to west indies, , ; third voyage, , ; voyage to isles, ; story of, ; his death, . hawkins, sir richard, serves in expedition to algiers, . haynes, major-general, killed, . helvoetsluys, english ships at, , . henrietta, queen maria, lands at bridlington, . henry viii., interest in his navy, , ; at portsmouth, . herbert, arthur, serves against barbary pirates, ; his command in straits, , ; appointed rear-admiral of england, ; dismissed by king, ; goes over to prince of orange, _ibid._ hewer, mr., on commission of , . hiddes de vries, tjerk, dutch admiral, . hoen, g't, shoutbynucht, . holdfast, tom, at st. helena, . holland, invasion of, in , ; restoration of stadtholderate in, , . holmes, sir robert, serves with prince rupert, ; cruise against the dutch, , ; rear-admiral of red, ; attacks smyrna convoy, - . house of commons. see parliament. howard, lord charles. see effingham. howard, lord thomas, commands voyage to isles, , . howard, sir edward, ; report to king , ; ravages coast of france, ; at plymouth, ; urges king to join fleet, ; his death, . hubert de burgh, who was, ; his victory at dover, , . hurtado de mendoza, antonio, his command in armada, . impressment. see press. isle of wight, french land on, , . isles, voyages to the, . jamaica, capture of, ; early history of settlement, . james i., king, his love of peace, ; protects pett, ; corruption in navy under, ; his death, . james ii., king, resolves to restore navy, ; appoints commission, _ibid._; increases pay of captains, ; sends prince of wales to portsmouth, . see york, james duke of. james's valley in st. helena, . john, king of portugal, harbours rupert, . john, king, in what sense naval history begins with, . jordan, sir joseph, vice-admiral of red, ; vice-admiral of blue, ; able movement at solebay, . keigwen, richard, at retaking of st. helena, . kempthorne, sir john, rear-admiral of blue, ; his famous action, ; rear-admiral of blue, . kempthorne, morgan, captain of =kingfisher=, . kentish knock, battle of, , . king's letter boy, what was, . kiriet, french admiral, . knevet, sir thomas, captain of =regent=, his death, . koenders, dutch admiral, . lawlessness of sea, . lawson, sir john, commands blue squadron on june , , ; rear-admiral with monk, ; early life, adheres to king, ; serves against barbary pirates, , , ; vice-admiral of red squadron, ; his death, . legge, george, lord dartmouth, withdraws garrison of tangier, ; is appointed to command of fleet at sea, ; anchors behind shipwash, ; enters channel, ; anchors at spithead, _ibid._; resigns command, . leghorn, conflict of english and dutch at, - . leiva, alonzo de, his advice to medina sidonia, ; drowned in shipwreck of _rata_, . levison, sir richard, commands in isles and on coast of ireland and portugal, , . ley, james, earl of marlborough, takes possession of bombay, ; his death, . lindsey, earl of, in command at sea, . line of battle, , . linschoten, john huighen van, account of loss of =revenge=, . lisle, lord, afterwards duke of northumberland, admiral, ; quoted, ; his order, , ; quoted, , . =little victory=, fireship at bougie, . lloyd, captain david, his loyalty to king james ii., . longland, charles, agent of commonwealth at florence, . longsand, dutch fleet seen at, . louis xiv., king of france, his relations to dutch, ; why did, not invade england ; scheme of aggression on holland, ; attack on holland, , . louis, prince, of france, invited over by barons, ; defeated at lincoln, _ibid._ lowestoft, battle of, - . lynn, lieutenant of =bonaventure=, . mansel, sir robert, commands expedition against algiers, . marines, first engagement of, . marlborough, earl of. see ley, james. martel, m. de, french admiral, . martinez de recalde, juan, commands squadron of biscay in armada, . =mary rose=, her speed, ; loss of, ; kempthorne's ship, . medina sidonia, duke of, appointed to command armada, ; sails from lisbon, ; his instructions from king, anchors at corunna, ; leaves corunna, ; refuses to attack at plymouth, ; sends message to parma, ; driven from calais, ; his obstinacy, ; captain general of andalusia, . medrado, diego de, commands galleys in armada, . meppel, dutch vice-admiral, . modyford, col. thomas, assists in reduction of barbadoes, , . moncada, hugo de, commands galleasses in armada, ; death of, , . monk, george, duke of albemarle, succeeds popham as admiral and general at sea, ; reports condition of wounded, ; at yarmouth, ; covers deane's body, ; renews action on rd june, ; in sole command, ; in pursuit of dutch, ; breaks the dutch, ; made duke of albemarle, his reasons for war with holland, ; succeeds sandwich, ; divides fleet, ; in four days' battle, , ; takes fleet to sea and defeats dutch, - ; recalled to london, ; at chatham, - ; justifies himself to parliament, . monson, sir william, quoted, ; service at zizembre, ; admiral in narrow seas, ; account of service, , ; his expedition against the pirates, - . montagu, edward, afterwards earl of sandwich, accompanies blake, ; goes to north, ; sails to mediterranean, ; occupies tangier and brings home queen, , ; commands blue squadron, ; succeeds duke of york in command of fleet, ; directs attack on dutch at bergen, - ; affair of the prize ships, , ; he is dismissed, ; admiral of blue squadron, ; story of, , ; his death, . montagu, edward, cousin of earl of sandwich, killed at bergen, . morgan, sir pierce. see primauguet, . morley, colonel, . munden, sir richard, retakes st. helena, , . muskerry, lord, killed, . myngs, sir christopher, vice-admiral of white squadron, ; his death and funeral, , . narbrough, sir john, voyage to south seas, ; services against barbary pirates, - ; commissioner of navy, . nassau, justinus of, blockades parma's ships, , . naval stores drawn from baltic, . navigation acts suspended, , . navy, conditions required for formation of, ; successful use of, by king john, ; mediæval organisation of, - ; how manned and officered, - ; decline of, at end of reign of edward iii., - ; decadence under henry iv., ; and henry vi., ; revival of, under tudor dynasty, - ; organised by henry viii., ; crews of, , ; decline of, under edward vi. and mary, , ; state of, under elizabeth, , ; employed on coasts of scotland and france, , ; efficiency of, in , ; growth in reign of elizabeth, ; duties of, in peace time, ; corruption under james i., ; committee appointed to report on, ; condition of, in , - ; scheme of reform, ; scale of food and pay, ; state of navy at death of james i., ; elements of, in reign of charles i., ; measures taken to strengthen, ; turns against king, ; used by parliament, ; share in civil war, ; how administered by parliament, ; force of, employed in , ; in second civil war, , ; part of, joins prince charles, , ; parliamentary committees for, ; a real increase of, _ibid._; increased pay, ; vigorous use of, by council of state, ; how prepared for first dutch war, - ; unpopularity of service in, ; measures taken to improve, by increased pay, ; submits to cromwell, , ; attention paid to, by charles ii., , ; beginning of corps of regular officers, ; "laws of war," ; orders of duke of york, , ; state of, in second dutch war, - ; ships in commission, ; gentlemen volunteers in, ; pay in arrears, ; corrupt administration of, , , ; extended service, and improved organisation of, in reign of charles ii., ; decline in king's last years, , ; restored by james ii., , ; pay of captain increased, . navy office, founded by henry viii., ; rules for, made by queen elizabeth, ; suspended under james i., ; restored, ; under charles ii., ; economy of, _ibid._; treasurer of, ; surveyor, _ibid._; comptroller, ; clerk of, or clerk of acts, _ibid._; storekeeper, ; clerk of cheque, _ibid._; master attendant, master shipwright, clerk of ropewalk, porter, boatswain, gunner, purser, ; precautions against fraud, ; why ineffectual, _ibid._, and , ; sick and hurt, and pay office, , ; defended by pepys, ; commission of ; new commission of , . nes, van, dutch lieutenant, ; defends smyrna convoy, , . nore, fleet at, . norris, sir john, commands soldiers in expedition of , , . northumberland, earl of. see percy, algernon. nottingham, earl of. see effingham. nugent, lieutenant, tries to fire pirates, . oeconomy of navy. see navy office. old mucks, what were, . opdam de wassanaer, baron, commands dutch fleet, . oquendo, antonio de, spanish admiral, attacked by tromp in downs, , . oquendo, miguel de, commands squadron of guipuzcoa in armada, ; his flagship damaged, . =orange= frigate takes french prize, . orange, prince of, his invasion of england, - . orders of duke of york. see navy. ossory, lord, joins fleet, ; rear-admiral of blue, . overton, colonel, and the press at hull, . papachino, spanish privateer, . parliament, increase of power under charles ii., ; votes money for war, ; money voted by, ; discontent of, ; bill for examination of public accounts, ; turbulence of, in - , ; refuses money, ; grants money for navy in , . parma, prince, afterwards duke of, spanish commander in low countries, . pay office. see navy office. penn, william, sent with squadron to mediterranean, ; quoted, , ; recommends increase in number of lieutenants, ; urges cromwell to appoint captains, , ; serves in channel, , ; vice-admiral with monk, ; appointed to command expedition to west indies, ; offers to go over to royalists, ; begs grant of confiscated land from cromwell, ; in attack on san domingo, - ; at taking of jamaica, ; returns home, _ibid._; imprisoned and dismissed, ; adviser to duke of york, ; called before house of commons, . pennington, sir john, ; serves against algerines, ; hands over ships to french, ; fails to protect spaniards in downs, ; king wishes to name, vice-admiral, ; fails to secure fleet for king, . pepys, samuel, clerk of acts, evidence as to affair of prize ships, ; on four days' battle, , ; attends funeral of sir c. myngs, ; account of fears of navy office, ; reports saying of duke of york, , ; describes effects of dutch attack on chatham, - ; his _state of the royal navy_ quoted, ; imprisoned, ; his account of decline of navy, - ; of its restoration, james ii., - ; secretary of the admiralty, ; goes to tangier, ; his account of squadron in straits, , . percy, algernon, earl of northumberland, commands ship, money, fleet, ; named lord high admiral, ; anger with king, ; opposes him in long parliament, _ibid._; appoints warwick vice-admiral, ; dismissed by king, . perez de guzman, alonso. see medina sidonia. periods of naval history, , . pett, peter, commissioner, complains of badiley's crew, ; report on pressed men, ; runs away from chatham, ; his excuse to parliament, ; called before house of commons, . pett, phineas, his family and services, ; family of, . philip ii. prepares armada, . philipot, john, citizen of london, defeats pirates, . plantagenet, arthur, . plague in fleet at spithead, . plunder, why different from prize, . popham, colonel edward, admiral and general at sea, ; blockades rupert, ; appointed to pursue, but retained in channel, ; his death, . portland, action with spaniards near, ; three days' battle begins near, . porto longone, english ships at, . portugal, expedition to, , . pregent, perye john, preter john, pierre jean le bidoulx, french admiral, ; at conquet, . press, early use of, ; difficulty of enforcing, ; in , ; corrupt working of, , . primauguet, french admiral, . =prince= flagship surrendered to dutch, . privateers in reign of elizabeth, . prize, meaning of, . prosperous bay in st. helena, . rainsborough, colonel, appointed to command at sea, . raleigh, sir walter, quoted, ; voyage to isles with essex, , . rawlings, john, his escape from barbary pirates, . =regent= burnt, . =revenge=, fight of, at azores, , . rich, robert, earl of warwick, appointed vice-admiral, ; secures place for parliament, ; suppresses revolt of fleet, , ; refuses to strike flag, ; blockades revolted ships at helvoetsluys, ; removed from command, . richard, bastard son of king john, kills eustace the monk, . rochelle, defeat of english at, . =royal charles= taken by dutch, . royal guinea company, . rupert, prince, appointed to command ships by prince of wales, ; goes to kinsale, ; blockaded, ; escapes, and sails for lisbon, _ibid._; at lisbon, and on coast of spain, - ; his cruise in the atlantic, - ; commands white squadron, ; declines to serve with sandwich, ; joined in command with monk, ; detached, ; rejoins fleet, ; story of =fan-fan=, , ; in sole command, ; succeeds duke of york, ; at battle of schooneveldt, - . russell, edward, his share in revolution, . rust, john, of blakeney, master to sir john arundel, ; his death, . sanders, captain, report to penn, . san domingo, unsuccessful attack on - . sandwich, earl of. see montagu, edward. san juan de ulloa, hawkins attacked by spaniards at, , . sansum, robert, rear-admiral of white squadron, ; killed, . santa cruz de tenerife, blake attacks spanish ships at, . schooneveldt, dutch fleet at, ; battles near, - . schram, van, dutch vice-admiral, . scotch sailors in dutch fleet, . seymour, lord henry, commands in straits, , , . seymour, sir edward, stopped by pressmen, . ship, early mediæval, ; improvements in, ; growth in th century, , ; money, , ; money fleets, . shish, mr., shipbuilder, . shoreham, french fleet at, . schoutbynacht, rank in dutch navy, . shovell, cloudesley, services with sir j. narbrough, , . sluys, battle of, , . sick and hurt office. see navy office. smith, sir jeremy, admiral of blue, ; fights separate action with tromp, - ; commands light squadron, . smyrna convoy attacked by sir r. holmes, - . smyrna convoy, dutch, allen captures, . solebay, fleet leaves; battle of, - , . southerne, mr., commissioner of navy, . sovereignty of seas, - . spragge, sir edward, vice-admiral of blue, ; commands fort at sheerness, ; action with dutch ships, ; services against barbary pirates, - ; passes smyrna, ; his quarrel with holmes, _ibid._; vice-admiral of red, ; admiral of blue, ; at battle of schooneveldt, ; his last action with tromp, and death, - . stayner, sir richard, takes spanish treasure ships, ; letter to, . st. helena taken and retaken, - . st. helens, french fleet at, , . st. michael, mr., on commission of , . strickland, sir roger, appointed rear-admiral, ; his squadron, _ibid._ strozzi, prior of capua, commanding french galleys, . surveyor. see navy office. sveers, dutch vice-admiral, . talbot, sir gilbert, english minister in denmark, . tangier garrison withdrawn, , . taylor, captain, reports discontent at chatham, . teddiman, sir t., vice-admiral of red, . tello, don pedro, captures english ship, . terschelling, english attack on, , . test act, . texel, dutch at anchor by the, ; dutch fleet escape to, ; battle of, - . thames, shallows and channels of, , . tippetts, sir j., commissioner of the navy, . treasurer. see navy office. trevelyan, sir william, captain of =gabriel=, . trinity house established, . triple alliance, . tromp, cornelius van, appointed to command against english, - ; covers retreat of dutch at lowestoft, ; his discontent, ; in four days' battle, - ; commands rear, ; separate action with smith, ; escapes, ; reconciled with de ruyter, ; at battle of schooneveldt, ; action with spragge, - . tromp, martin harpertz, attacks oquendo in downs, ; at dover, ; threatens dover, , ; follows blake, resigns command, ; restored to command, ; at battle of dungeness, , ; in channel, story of broom, ; in battle of portland, ; at sea, ; plan of battle on nd june, , ; manoeuvres before last battle, , ; death, . tudor dynasty, its interest in navy, , . tunis, blake burns ships at, . tuscany, grand duke of, difficulties with neutrality of his port of leghorn, - . utbar, captain, rear-admiral of red, . valdes, pedro de, commands squadron of andalusia, ; he is deserted by medina sidonia, and surrenders to drake, . van ghent, dutch admiral, in firth of forth, ; co-operates with allen, . venables, general george, at taking of jamaica, ; returns home, _ibid._; imprisoned and dismissed, ; in attack on san domingo, - ; to command troops in expedition to west indies, ; his character, ; offers to go over to royalists, _ibid._ victuallers, what were, . villiers, george, afterwards duke of buckingham, becomes lord high admiral, ; his incapacity, ; his death, . walton, colonel, . ward, english pirate, in algiers, . warwick, earl of, robert rich. see rich, robert. warwick, earl of, king-maker, admiral and captain of calais, . west indies, invasion of, in , - ; state of, in , , ; state of, in , . whistler, dr. daniel, report on state of wounded at portsmouth, . willoughby of parham, commands ships for prince charles, ; named governor of barbadoes, ; surrenders to ayscue, . wimpel, dutch flag, , . winkfield, sir john, killed at cadiz, . winter, sir william, commands fleet on coast of scotland, ; command in the downs, . wrenn, lieutenant of =kingfisher=, . york, james duke of, intended to be lord high admiral, ; instrument of his brother in government, ; hoists flag as lord high admiral, ; advises building of bigger ships, ; complains of want of men, ; in north sea, ; wins battle of lowestoft, ; affair of the order to shorten sail, , ; retires from command, ; anger with sandwich, ; approves of fortifying chatham, ; quotes turenne, ; again in command of fleet, ; sails from downs, ; anchors at solebay, ; at battle of solebay, - ; driven from command by test act, ; driven abroad by fear of popular violence, . young, captain, brush with dutch, . young, lieutenant of =leopard=, . zaan, w. van der, schoutbynacht, . a catalogue of books and announcements of methuen and company publishers: london essex street w.c. contents page forthcoming books, poetry, english classics, illustrated books, history, biography, general literature, science, philosophy, theology, leaders of religion, fiction, books for boys and girls, the peacock library, university extension series, social questions of to-day, classical translations, educational books, november november . messrs. methuen's announcements poetry ~rudyard kipling~ the seven seas. by rudyard kipling. _crown_ _vo._ _s._ copies on hand-made paper. _demy_ _vo._ _s._ copies on japanese paper. _demy_ _vo._ _s._ the enormous success of 'barrack room ballads' justifies the expectation that this volume, so long postponed, will have an equal, if not a greater, success. ~george wyndham~ shakespeare's poems. edited, with an introduction and notes, by george wyndham, m.p. _crown_ _vo._ _s._ _d._ [_english classics_. ~w. e. henley~ english lyrics. selected and edited by w. e. henley. _crown_ _vo._ _buckram._ _s._ also copies on japanese paper. _demy_ _vo._ _£_ , _s._ few announcements will be more welcome to lovers of english verse than the one that mr. henley is bringing together into one book the finest lyrics in our language. the volume will be produced with the same care that made 'lyra heroica' delightful to the hand and eye. 'q' poems and ballads. by 'q,' author of 'green bays,' etc. _crown_ _vo._ _buckram._ _s._ _d._ history, biography, and travel ~captain hinde~ the fall of the congo arabs. by sidney l. hinde. with portraits and plans. _demy_ _vo._ _s._ _d._ this volume deals with the recent belgian expedition to the upper congo, which developed into a war between the state forces and the arab slave-raiders in central africa. two white men only returned alive from the three years' war--commandant dhanis and the writer of this book, captain hinde. during the greater part of the time spent by captain hinde in the congo he was amongst cannibal races in little-known regions, and, owing to the peculiar circumstances of his position, was enabled to see a side of native history shown to few europeans. the war terminated in the complete defeat of the arabs, seventy thousand of whom perished during the struggle. s. baring gould the life of napoleon bonaparte. by s. baring gould. with over illustrations in the text and photogravure plates. _large quarto. s._ this study of the most extraordinary life in history is written rather for the general reader than for the military student, and while following the main lines of napoleon's career, is concerned chiefly with the development of his character and his personal qualities. special stress is laid on his early life--the period in which his mind and character took their definite shape and direction. the great feature of the book is its wealth of illustration. there are over illustrations, large and small, in the text, and there are also more than a dozen full page photogravures. every important incident of napoleon's career has its illustration, while there are a large number of portraits of his contemporaries, reproductions of famous pictures, of contemporary caricatures, of his handwriting, etc. etc. it is not too much to say that no such magnificent book on napoleon has ever been published. victor hugo the letters of victor hugo. translated from the french by f. clarke, m.a. _in two volumes. demy vo. s. d. each. vol. i. - ._ this is the first volume of one of the most interesting and important collection of letters ever published in france. the correspondence dates from victor hugo's boyhood to his death, and none of the letters have been published before. the arrangement is chiefly chronological, but where there is an interesting set of letters to one person these are arranged together. the first volume contains, among others, ( ) letters to his father; ( ) to his young wife; ( ) to his confessor, lamennais; ( ) a very important set of about fifty letters to sainte-beuve; ( ) letters about his early books and plays. j. m. rigg st. anselm of canterbury: a chapter in the history of religion. by j. m. rigg, of lincoln's inn, barrister-at-law. _demy vo. s. d._ this work gives for the first time in moderate compass a complete portrait of st. anselm, exhibiting him in his intimate and interior as well as in his public life. thus, while the great ecclesiastico-political struggle in which he played so prominent a part is fully dealt with, unusual prominence is given to the profound and subtle speculations by which he permanently influenced theological and metaphysical thought; while it will be a surprise to most readers to find him also appearing as the author of some of the most exquisite religious poetry in the latin language. edward gibbon the decline and fall of the roman empire. by edward gibbon. a new edition, edited with notes, appendices, and maps by j. b. bury, m.a., fellow of trinity college, dublin. _in seven volumes. demy vo, gilt top. s. d. each. crown vo. s. each. vol. ii._ w. m. flinders petrie a history of egypt, from the earliest times to the present day. edited by w. m. flinders petrie, d.c.l., ll.d., professor of egyptology at university college. _fully illustrated. in six volumes. crown vo. s. each._ vol. ii. xvii.-xviii. dynasties. w. m. f. petrie. 'a history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily represented by dr. petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and accurate study, and supply a vacant place in the english literature of egyptology.'--_times._ j. wells a short history of rome. by j. wells, m.a., fellow and tutor of wadham coll., oxford. with maps. _crown vo. s. d. pp._ this book is intended for the middle and upper forms of public schools and for pass students at the universities. it contains copious tables, etc. h. de b. gibbins english industry: historical outlines. by h. de b. gibbins, m.a. with maps. _demy vo. s. d. pp. ._ this book is written with the view of affording a clear view of the main facts of english social and industrial history placed in due perspective. beginning with prehistoric times, it passes in review the growth and advance of industry up to the nineteenth century, showing its gradual development and progress. the author has endeavoured to place before his readers the history of industry as a connected whole in which all these developments have their proper place. the book is illustrated by maps, diagrams, and tables, and aided by copious footnotes. mrs. oliphant thomas chalmers. by mrs. oliphant. _second edition. crown vo. s. d._ [_leaders of religion._ naval and military david hannay a short history of the royal navy, from early times to the present day. by david hannay. _illustrated. demy vo. s._ this book aims at giving an account not only of the fighting we have done at sea, but of the growth of the service, of the part the navy has played in the development of the empire, and of its inner life. the author has endeavoured to avoid the mistake of sacrificing the earlier periods of naval history--the very interesting wars with holland in the seventeenth century, for instance, or the american war of - --to the later struggle with revolutionary and imperial france. col. cooper king a short history of the british army. by lieut.-colonel cooper king, of the staff college, camberley. _illustrated. demy vo. s. d._ this volume aims at describing the nature of the different armies that have been formed in great britain, and how from the early and feudal levies the present standing army came to be. the changes in tactics, uniform, and armament are briefly touched upon, and the campaigns in which the army has shared have been so far followed as to explain the part played by british regiments in them. g. w. steevens naval policy: with a description of english and foreign navies. by g. w. steevens. _demy vo. s._ this book is a description of the british and other more important navies of the world, with a sketch of the lines on which our naval policy might possibly be developed. it describes our recent naval policy, and shows what our naval force really is. a detailed but non-technical account is given of the instruments of modern warfare--guns, armour, engines, and the like--with a view to determine how far we are abreast of modern invention and modern requirements. an ideal policy is then sketched for the building and manning of our fleet; and the last chapter is devoted to docks, coaling-stations, and especially colonial defence. theology f. b. jevons an introduction to the history of religion. by f. b. jevons, m.a., litt. d., tutor at the university of durham. _demy vo. s. d._ this is the third number of the series of 'theological handbooks' edited by dr. robertson of durham, in which have already appeared dr. gibson's 'xxxix. articles' and mr. ottley's 'incarnation.' mr. f. b. jevons' 'introduction to the history of religion' treats of early religion, from the point of view of anthropology and folk-lore; and is the first attempt that has been made in any language to weave together the results of recent investigations into such topics as sympathetic magic, taboo, totemism. fetishism, etc., so as to present a systematic account of the growth of primitive religion and the development of early religious institutions. w. yorke faussett the _de catechizandis rudibus_ of st. augustine. edited, with introduction, notes, etc., by w. yorke faussett, m.a., late scholar of balliol coll. _crown vo. s. d._ an edition of a treatise on the essentials of christian doctrine, and the best methods of impressing them on candidates for baptism. the editor bestows upon this patristic work the same care which a treatise of cicero might claim. there is a general introduction, a careful analysis, a full commentary, and other useful matter. no better introduction to the study of the latin fathers, their style and diction, could be found than this treatise, which also has no lack of modern interest. general literature c. f. andrews christianity and the labour question. by c. f. andrews, b.a. _crown vo. s. d._ r. e. steel magnetism and electricity. by r. elliott steel, m.a., f.c.s. with illustrations. _crown vo. s. d._ g. lowes dickinson the greek view of life. by g. l. dickinson, fellow of king's college, cambridge. _crown vo. s. d._ [_university extension series._ j. a. hobson the problem of the unemployed. by j. a. hobson, b.a., author of 'the problems of poverty.' _crown vo. s. d._ [_social questions series._ s. e. bally german commercial correspondence. by s. e. bally, assistant master at the manchester grammar school. _crown vo. s. d._ [_commercial series._ l. f. price economic essays. by l. f. price, m.a., fellow of oriel college, oxford. _crown vo. s._ this book consists of a number of studies in economics and industrial and social problems. fiction marie corelli's romances first complete and uniform edition _large crown vo. s._ messrs. methuen beg to announce that they have commenced the publication of a new and uniform edition of marie corelli's romances. this edition is revised by the author, and contains new prefaces. the volumes are being issued at short intervals in the following order:-- . a romance of two worlds. . vendetta. . thelma. . ardath. . the soul of lilith. . wormwood. . barabbas. . the sorrows of satan. baring gould dartmoor idylls. by s. baring gould. _cr. vo._ _s._ guavas the tinner. by s. baring gould, author of 'mehalah,' 'the broom squire,' etc. illustrated. _crown vo._ _s._ the pennycomequicks. by s. baring gould. new edition. _crown vo._ _s._ a new edition, uniform with the author's other novels. lucas malet the carissima. by lucas malet, author of 'the wages of sin,' etc. _crown vo._ _s._ this is the first novel which lucas malet has written since her very powerful 'the wages of sin.' arthur morrison a child of the jago. by arthur morrison. author of 'tales of mean streets.' _crown vo._ _s._ this, the first long story which mr. morrison has written, is like his remarkable 'tales of mean streets,' a realistic study of east end life. w. e. norris clarissa furiosa. by w. e. norris, author of 'the rogue,' etc. _crown vo._ _s._ l. cope cornford captain jacobus: a romance of highwaymen. by l. cope cornford. illustrated. _crown vo._ _s._ j. bloundelle burton denounced. by j. bloundelle burton, author of 'in the day of adversity,' etc. _crown vo._ _s._ j. maclaren cobban wilt thou have this woman? by j. m. cobban, author of 'the king of andaman.' _crown vo._ _s._ j. f. brewer the speculators. by j. f. brewer. _crown vo._ _s._ a. balfour by stroke of sword. by andrew balfour. _crown vo._ _s._ m. a. owen the daughter of alouette. by mary a. owen. _crown vo. s._ a story of life among the american indians. ronald ross the spirit of storm. by ronald ross, author of 'the child of ocean.' _crown vo. s._ a romance of the sea. j. a. barry in the great deep: tales of the sea. by j. a. barry. author of 'steve brown's bunyip.' _crown vo. s._ james gordon the village and the doctor. by james gordon. _crown vo. s._ bertram mitford the sign of the spider. by bertram mitford. _crown vo. s. d._ a story of south africa. a. shield the squire of wandales. by a. shield. _crown vo. s. d._ g. w. steevens monologues of the dead. by g. w. steevens. _foolscap vo. s. d._ a series of soliloquies in which famous men of antiquity--julius cæsar, nero, alcibiades, etc., attempt to express themselves in the modes of thought and language of to-day. s. gordon a handful of exotics. by s. gordon. _crown vo. s. d._ a volume of stories of jewish life in russia. p. neumann the supplanter. by p. neumann. _crown vo. s. d._ evelyn dickinson the sin of angels. by evelyn dickinson. _crown vo. s. d._ h. a. kennedy a man with black eyelashes. by h. a. kennedy. _crown vo. s. d._ a list of messrs. methuen's publications poetry ~rudyard kipling.~ barrack-room ballads; and other verses. by rudyard kipling. _ninth edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'mr. kipling's verse is strong, vivid, full of character.... unmistakable genius rings in every line.'--_times._ '"barrack-room ballads" contains some of the best work that mr. kipling has ever done, which is saying a good deal. "fuzzy-wuzzy," "gunga din," and "tommy," are, in our opinion, altogether superior to anything of the kind that english literature has hitherto produced.'--_athenæum._ 'the ballads teem with imagination, they palpitate with emotion. we read them with laughter and tears; the metres throb in our pulses, the cunningly ordered words tingle with life; and if this be not poetry, what is?'--_pall mall gazette._ "~q.~" the golden pomp: a procession of english lyrics from surrey to shirley, arranged by a. t. quiller couch. _crown vo._ _buckram._ _s._ 'a delightful volume: a really golden "pomp."'--_spectator._ "~q.~" green bays: verses and parodies. by "q.," author of 'dead man's rock,' etc. _second edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ _d._ 'the verses display a rare and versatile gift of parody, great command of metre, and a very pretty turn of humour.'--_times._ ~h. c. beeching.~ lyra sacra: an anthology of sacred verse. edited by h. c. beeching, m.a. _crown vo._ _buckram._ _s._ 'an anthology of high excellence.'--_athenæum._ 'a charming selection, which maintains a lofty standard of excellence.'--_times._ ~w. b. yeats.~ an anthology of irish verse. edited by w. b. yeats. _crown vo._ _s._ _d._ 'an attractive and catholic selection.'--_times._ 'it is edited by the most original and most accomplished of modern irish poets, and against his editing but a single objection can be brought, namely, that it excludes from the collection his own delicate lyrics.'--_saturday review._ ~e. mackay.~ a song of the sea: my lady of dreams, and other poems. by eric mackay, author of 'the love letters of a violinist.' _second edition._ _fcap. vo, gilt top._ _s._ 'everywhere mr. mackay displays himself the master of a style marked by all the characteristics of the best rhetoric. he has a keen sense of rhythm and of general balance; his verse is excellently sonorous.'--_globe._ 'throughout the book the poetic workmanship is fine.'--_scotsman._ ~ibsen.~ brand. a drama by henrik ibsen. translated by william wilson. _second edition. crown vo. s. d._ 'the greatest world-poem of the nineteenth century next to "faust." it is in the same set with "agamemnon," with "lear," with the literature that we now instinctively regard as high and holy,'--_daily chronicle._ ~"a.g."~ verses to order. by "a. g." _cr. vo. s. d. net._ a small volume of verse by a writer whose initials are well known to oxford men. 'a capital specimen of light academic poetry. these verses are very bright and engaging, easy and sufficiently witty.'--_st. james's gazette._ ~f. langbridge.~ ballads of the brave: poems of chivalry, enterprise, courage, and constancy, from the earliest times to the present day. edited, with notes, by rev. f. langbridge. _crown vo. buckram. s. d. school edition. s. d._ 'a very happy conception happily carried out. these "ballads of the brave" are intended to suit the real tastes of boys, and will suit the taste of the great majority.'--_spectator._ 'the book is full of splendid things.'--_world._ ~lang and craigie.~ the poems of robert burns. edited by andrew lang and w. a. craigie. with portrait. _demy vo, gilt top. s._ this edition contains a carefully collated text, numerous notes, critical and textual, a critical and biographical introduction, and a glossary. 'among the editions in one volume, mr. andrew lang's will take the place of authority.'--_times._ 'to the general public the beauty of its type, and the fair proportions of its pages, as well as the excellent chronological arrangement of the poems, should make it acceptable enough. mr. lang and his publishers have certainly succeeded in producing an attractive popular edition of the poet, in which the brightly written biographical introduction is not the least notable feature.'--_glasgow herald._ english classics edited by w. e. henley. 'very dainty volumes are these; the paper, type, and light-green binding are all very agreeable to the eye. _simplex munditiis_ is the phrase that might be applied to them.'--_globe._ 'the volumes are strongly bound in green buckram, are of a convenient size, and pleasant to look upon, so that whether on the shelf, or on the table, or in the hand the possessor is thoroughly content with them.'--_guardian._ 'the paper, type, and binding of this edition are in excellent taste, and leave nothing to be desired by lovers of literature.'--_standard._ the life and opinions of tristram shandy. by lawrence sterne. with an introduction by charles whibley, and a portrait. _ vols. s._ the comedies of william congreve. with an introduction by g. s. street, and a portrait. _ vols. s._ the adventures of hajji baba of ispahan. by james morier. with an introduction by e. g. browne, m.a., and a portrait. _ vols._ _s._ the lives of donne, wotton, hooker, herbert, and sanderson. by izaak walton. with an introduction by vernon blackburn, and a portrait, _s._ _d._ the lives of the english poets. by samuel johnson, ll.d. with an introduction by j. h. millar, and a portrait. vols. _s._ _d._ illustrated books ~jane barlow~. the battle of the frogs and mice, translated by jane barlow, author of 'irish idylls,' and pictured by f. d. bedford. _small to._ _s._ _net._ ~s. baring gould~. a book of fairy tales retold by s. baring gould. with numerous illustrations and initial letters by arthur j. gaskin. _second edition_. _crown vo._ _buckram_. _s._ 'mr. baring gould has done a good deed, and is deserving of gratitude, in re-writing in honest, simple style the old stories that delighted the childhood of "our fathers and grandfathers." we do not think he has omitted any of our favourite stories, the stories that are commonly regarded as merely "old fashioned." as to the form of the book, and the printing, which is by messrs. constable, it were difficult to commend overmuch.--_saturday review._ ~s. baring gould~. old english fairy tales. collected and edited by s. baring gould. with numerous illustrations by f. d. bedford. _second edition_. _crown vo_. _buckram_. _s._ 'a charming volume, which children will be sure to appreciate. the stories have been selected with great ingenuity from various old ballads and folk-tales, and, having been somewhat altered and readjusted, now stand forth, clothed in mr. baring gould's delightful english, to enchant youthful readers. all the tales are good.'--_guardian._ ~s. baring gould~. a book of nursery songs and rhymes. edited by s. baring gould, and illustrated by the birmingham art school. _buckram, gilt top_. _crown vo._ _s._ 'the volume is very complete in its way, as it contains nursery songs to the number of , game-rhymes, and jingles. to the student we commend the sensible introduction, and the explanatory notes. the volume is superbly printed on soft, thick paper, which it is a pleasure to touch; and the borders and pictures are, as we have said, among the very best specimens we have seen of the gaskin school.'--_birmingham gazette._ ~h. c. beeching.~ a book of christmas verse. edited by h. c. beeching, m.a., and illustrated by walter crane. _crown vo, gilt top. s._ a collection of the best verse inspired by the birth of christ from the middle ages to the present day. a distinction of the book is the large number of poems it contains by modern authors, a few of which are here printed for the first time. 'an anthology which, from its unity of aim and high poetic excellence, has a better right to exist than most of its fellows.'--_guardian._ ~history~ ~gibbon.~ the decline and fall of the roman empire. by edward gibbon. a new edition, edited with notes, appendices, and maps, by j. b. bury, m.a., fellow of trinity college, dublin. _in seven volumes. demy vo. gilt top. s. d. each. also crown vo. s. each. vol. i._ 'the time has certainly arrived for a new edition of gibbon's great work.... professor bury is the right man to undertake this task. his learning is amazing, both in extent and accuracy. the book is issued in a handy form, and at a moderate price, and it is admirably printed.'--_times._ 'the edition is edited as a classic should be edited, removing nothing, yet indicating the value of the text, and bringing it up to date. it promises to be of the utmost value, and will be a welcome addition to many libraries.'--_scotsman._ 'this edition, so far as one may judge from the first instalment, is a marvel of erudition and critical skill, and it is the very minimum of praise to predict that the seven volumes of it will supersede dean milman's as the standard edition of our great historical classic.'--_glasgow herald._ 'the beau-ideal gibbon has arrived at last.'--_sketch._ 'at last there is an adequate modern edition of gibbon.... the best edition the nineteenth century could produce.'--_manchester guardian._ ~flinders petrie.~ a history of egypt, from the earliest times to the present day. edited by w. m. flinders petrie, d.c.l., ll.d., professor of egyptology at university college. _fully illustrated. in six volumes. crown vo. s. each._ vol. i. prehistoric times to xvi. dynasty. w. m. f. petrie. _second edition._ 'a history written in the spirit of scientific precision so worthily represented by dr. petrie and his school cannot but promote sound and accurate study, and supply a vacant place in the english literature of egyptology.'--_times._ ~flinders petrie.~ egyptian tales. edited by w. m. flinders petrie. illustrated by tristram ellis. _in two volumes. crown vo. s. d. each._ 'a valuable addition to the literature of comparative folk-lore. the drawings are really illustrations in the literal sense of the word.'--_globe._ 'it has a scientific value to the student of history and archæology.'--_scotsman._ 'invaluable as a picture of life in palestine and egypt.'--_daily news._ ~flinders petrie.~ egyptian decorative art. by w. m. flinders petrie, d.c.l. with illustrations. _crown vo. s. d._ 'professor flinders petrie is not only a profound egyptologist, but an accomplished student of comparative archæology. in these lectures, delivered at the royal institution, he displays both qualifications with rare skill in elucidating the development of decorative art in egypt, and in tracing its influence on the art of other countries. few experts can speak with higher authority and wider knowledge than the professor himself, and in any case his treatment of his subject is full of learning and insight.'--_times._ ~s. baring gould.~ the tragedy of the cÆsars. the emperors of the julian and claudian lines. with numerous illustrations from busts, gems, cameos, etc. by s. baring gould, author of 'mehalah,' etc. _third edition. royal vo. s._ 'a most splendid and fascinating book on a subject of undying interest. the great feature of the book is the use the author has made of the existing portraits of the caesars, and the admirable critical subtlety he has exhibited in dealing with this line of research. it is brilliantly written, and the illustrations are supplied on a scale of profuse magnificence.'--_daily chronicle._ 'the volumes will in no sense disappoint the general reader. indeed, in their way, there is nothing in any sense so good in english.... mr. baring gould has presented his narrative in such a way as not to make one dull page.'--_athenæum._ ~a. clark.~ the colleges of oxford: their history, their traditions. by members of the university. edited by a. clark, m.a., fellow and tutor of lincoln college. _ vo. s. d._ 'a work which will certainly be appealed to for many years as the standard book on the colleges of oxford.'--_athenæum._ ~perrens.~ the history of florence from to . by f. t. perrens. translated by hannah lynch. _ vo. s. d._ a history of florence under the domination of cosimo, piero, and lorenzo de medicis. 'this is a standard book by an honest and intelligent historian, who has deserved well of all who are interested in italian history.'--_manchester guardian._ ~e. l. s. horsburgh.~ the campaign of waterloo. by e. l. s. horsburgh, b.a. _with plans. crown vo. s._ 'a brilliant essay--simple, sound, and thorough.'--_daily chronicle._ 'a study, the most concise, the most lucid, the most critical that has been produced.'--_birmingham mercury._ 'a careful and precise study, a fair and impartial criticism, and an eminently readable book.'--_admiralty and horse guards gazette._ ~h.b. george.~ battles of english history. by h.b. george, m.a., fellow of new college, oxford. _with numerous plans. third edition. crown vo. s._ 'mr. george has undertaken a very useful task--that of making military affairs intelligible and instructive to non-military readers--and has executed it with laudable intelligence and industry, and with a large measure of success.'--_times._ 'this book is almost a revelation; and we heartily congratulate the author on his work and on the prospect of the reward he has well deserved for so much conscientious and sustained labour.'--_daily chronicle._ ~o. browning.~ a short history of mediÆval italy, a.d. - . by oscar browning, fellow and tutor of king's college, cambridge. _second edition. in two volumes. crown vo. s. each._ vol. i. - .--guelphs and ghibellines. vol. ii. - .--the age of the condottieri. 'a vivid picture of mediæval italy.'--_standard._ 'mr. browning is to be congratulated on the production of a work of immense labour and learning.'--_westminster gazette._ ~o'grady.~ the story of ireland. by standish o'grady, author of 'finn and his companions.' _cr. vo. s. d._ 'most delightful, most stimulating. its racy humour, its original imaginings, make it one of the freshest, breeziest volumes.'--_methodist times._ 'a survey at once graphic, acute, and quaintly written.'--_times._ biography ~r. l. stevenson.~ vailima letters. by robert louis stevenson. with an etched portrait by william strang, and other illustrations. _second edition. crown vo. buckram. s. d._ 'the vailima letters are rich in all the varieties of that charm which have secured for stevenson the affection of many others besides "journalists, fellow-novelists, and boys."'--_the times._ 'few publications have in our time been more eagerly awaited than these "vailima letters," giving the first fruits of the correspondence of robert louis stevenson. but, high as the tide of expectation has run, no reader can possibly be disappointed in the result.'--_st. james's gazette._ 'for the student of english literature these letters indeed are a treasure. they are more like "scott's journal" in kind than any other literary autobiography.'--_national observer._ ~f. w. joyce.~ the life of sir frederick gore ouseley. by f. w. joyce, m.a. with portraits and illustrations. _crown vo. s. d._ 'all the materials have been well digested, and the book gives us a complete picture of the life of one who will ever be held in loving remembrance by his personal friends, and who in the history of music in this country will always occupy a prominent position on account of the many services he rendered to the art.'--_musical news._ 'this book has been undertaken in quite the right spirit, and written with sympathy, insight, and considerable literary skill.'--_times._ ~w. g. collingwood.~ the life of john ruskin. by w. g. collingwood, m.a., editor of mr. ruskin's poems. with numerous portraits, and drawings by mr. ruskin. _second edition. vols. vo. s._ 'no more magnificent volumes have been published for a long time.'--_times._ 'it is long since we had a biography with such delights of substance and of form. such a book is a pleasure for the day, and a joy for ever.'--_daily chronicle._ 'a noble monument of a noble subject. one of the most beautiful books about one of the noblest lives of our century.'--_glasgow herald._ ~c. waldstein.~ john ruskin: a study. by charles waldstein, m.a. fellow of king's college, cambridge. with a photogravure portrait after professor herkomer. _post vo. s._ 'a thoughtful, impartial, well-written criticism of ruskin's teaching, intended to separate what the author regards as valuable and permanent from what is transient and erroneous in the great master's writing.'--_daily chronicle._ ~w. h. hutton.~ the life of sir thomas more. by w. h. hutton, m.a., author of 'william laud.' _with portraits. crown vo. s._ 'the book lays good claim to high rank among our biographies. it is excellently, even lovingly, written.'--_scotsman._ 'an excellent monograph.'--_times._ 'a most complete presentation.'--_daily chronicle._ ~m. kaufmann.~ charles kingsley. by m. kaufmann, m.a. _crown vo. buckram. s._ a biography of kingsley, especially dealing with his achievements in social reform. 'the author has certainly gone about his work with conscientiousness and industry.'--_sheffield daily telegraph._ ~a. f. robbins.~ the early public life of william ewart gladstone. by a. f. robbins. _with portraits. crown vo. s._ 'considerable labour and much skill of presentation have not been unworthily expended on this interesting work.'--_times._ ~clark russell.~ the life of admiral lord collingwood. by w. clark russell, author of 'the wreck of the grosvenor.' with illustrations by f. brangwyn. _third edition. crown vo. s._ 'a most excellent and wholesome book, which we should like to see in the hands of every boy in the country.'--_st. james's gazette._ 'a really good book.'--_saturday review._ ~southey.~ english seamen (howard, clifford, hawkins, drake, cavendish). by robert southey. edited, with an introduction, by david hannay. _second edition. crown vo. s._ 'admirable and well-told stories of our naval history.'--_army and navy gazette._ 'a brave, inspiriting book.'--_black and white._ 'the work of a master of style, and delightful all through.'--_daily chronicle._ general literature ~s. baring gould.~ old country life. by s. baring gould, author of 'mehalah,' etc. with sixty-seven illustrations by w. parkinson, f. d. bedford, and f. masey. _large crown vo. s. d. fifth and cheaper edition. s._ '"old country life," as healthy wholesome reading, full of breezy life and movement, full of quaint stories vigorously told, will not be excelled by any book to be published throughout the year. sound, hearty, and english to the core.'--_world._ ~s. baring gould.~ historic oddities and strange events. by s. baring gould. _third edition_. _crown vo._ _s._ 'a collection of exciting and entertaining chapters. the whole volume is delightful reading.'--_times._ ~s. baring gould.~ freaks of fanaticism. by s. baring gould. _third edition_. _crown vo._ _s._ 'mr. baring gould has a keen eye for colour and effect, and the subjects he has chosen give ample scope to his descriptive and analytic faculties. a perfectly fascinating book.'--_scottish leader._ ~s. baring gould.~ a garland of country song: english folk songs with their traditional melodies. collected and arranged by s. baring gould and h. fleetwood sheppard. _demy to._ _s._ ~s. baring gould.~ songs of the west: traditional ballads and songs of the west of england, with their traditional melodies. collected by s. baring gould, m.a., and h. fleetwood sheppard, m.a. arranged for voice and piano. in parts (containing songs each), _parts i., ii., iii._, _s. each_. _part iv._, _s._ _in one vol., french morocco_, _s._ 'a rich collection of humour, pathos, grace, and poetic fancy.'--_saturday review._ ~s. baring gould.~ yorkshire oddities and strange events. _fourth edition_. _crown vo._ _s._ ~s. baring gould.~ strange survivals and superstitions. with illustrations. by s. baring gould. _crown vo._ _second edition_. _s._ 'we have read mr. baring gould's book from beginning to end. it is full of quaint and various information, and there is not a dull page in it.'--_notes and queries._ ~s. baring gould.~ the deserts of southern france. by s. baring gould. with numerous illustrations by f. d. bedford, s. hutton, etc. _ vols_. _demy vo._ _s._ this book is the first serious attempt to describe the great barren tableland that extends to the south of limousin in the department of aveyron, lot, etc., a country of dolomite cliffs, and cañons, and subterranean rivers. the region is full of prehistoric and historic interest, relics of cave-dwellers, of mediæval robbers, and of the english domination and the hundred years' war. 'his two richly-illustrated volumes are full of matter of interest to the geologist, the archæologist, and the student of history and manners.'--_scotsman._ 'it deals with its subject in a manner which rarely fails to arrest attention.'--_times._ ~r. s. baden-powell.~ the downfall of prempeh. a diary of life with the native levy in ashanti, . by lieut.-col. baden-powell. with illustrations, a map, and a special chapter on the political and commercial position of ashanti by sir george baden-powell, k.c.m.g., m.p. _demy vo._ _s._ _d._ 'a compact, faithful, most readable record of the campaign.'--_daily news._ 'a bluff and vigorous narrative.'--_glasgow herald._ 'a really interesting book.'--_yorkshire post._ ~w. e. gladstone.~ the speeches and public addresses of the rt. hon. w. e. gladstone, m.p. edited by a. w. hutton, m.a., and h. j. cohen, m.a. with portraits. _ vo. vols. ix. and x. s. d. each._ ~henley and whibley.~ a book of english prose. collected by w. e. henley and charles whibley. _cr. vo. s._ 'a unique volume of extracts--an art gallery of early prose.'--_birmingham post._ 'an admirable companion to mr. henley's "lyra heroica."'--_saturday review._ 'quite delightful. the choice made has been excellent, and the volume has been most admirably printed by messrs. constable. a greater treat for those not well acquainted with pre-restoration prose could not be imagined.'--_athenæum._ ~j. wells.~ oxford and oxford life. by members of the university. edited by j. wells, m.a., fellow and tutor of wadham college. _crown vo. s. d._ this work contains an account of life at oxford--intellectual, social, and religious--a careful estimate of necessary expenses, a review of recent changes, a statement of the present position of the university, and chapters on women's education, aids to study, and university extension. 'we congratulate mr. wells on the production of a readable and intelligent account of oxford as it is at the present time, written by persons who are possessed of a close acquaintance with the system and life of the university.'--_athenæum._ ~w. m. dixon.~ a primer of tennyson. by w. m. dixon, m.a., professor of english literature at mason college. _crown vo. s. d._ 'much sound and well-expressed criticism and acute literary judgments. the bibliography is a boon.'--_speaker._ 'no better estimate of the late laureate's work has yet been published. his sketch of tennyson's life contains everything essential; his bibliography is full and concise: his literary criticism is most interesting.'--_glasgow herald._ ~w. a. craigie.~ a primer of burns. by w. a. craigie. _crown vo. s. d._ this book is planned on a method similar to the 'primer of tennyson.' it has also a glossary. 'a valuable addition to the literature of the poet.'--_times._ 'an excellent short account.'--_pall mall gazette._ 'an admirable introduction.'--_globe._ ~l. whibley.~ greek oligarchies: their organisation and character. by l. whibley, m.a., fellow of pembroke college, cambridge. _crown vo. s._ 'an exceedingly useful handbook: a careful and well-arranged study of an obscure subject.'--_times._ 'mr. whibley is never tedious or pedantic.'--_pall mall gazette._ ~w. b. worsfold.~ south africa: its history and its future. by w. basil worsfold, m.a. _with a map. crown vo. s._ 'an intensely interesting book.'--_daily chronicle._ 'a monumental work compressed into a very moderate compass.'--_world._ ~c. h. pearson.~ essays and critical reviews. by c. h. pearson, m.a., author of 'national life and character.' edited, with a biographical sketch, by h. a. strong, m.a., ll.d. with a portrait. _demy vo. s. d._ 'these fine essays illustrate the great breadth of his historical and literary sympathies and the remarkable variety of his intellectual interests.'--_glasgow herald._ 'remarkable for careful handling, breadth of view, and thorough knowledge.'--_scotsman._ 'charming essays.'--_spectator._ ~ouida.~ views and opinions. by ouida. _crown vo. second edition. s._ 'ouida is outspoken, and the reader of this book will not have a dull moment. the book is full of variety, and sparkles with entertaining matter.'--_speaker._ ~j. s. shedlock.~ the pianoforte sonata: its origin and development. by j. s. shedlock. _crown vo. s._ 'this work should be in the possession of every musician and amateur, for it not only embodies a concise and lucid history of the origin of one of the most important forms of musical composition, but, by reason of the painstaking research and accuracy of the author's statements, it is a very valuable work for reference.'--_athenæum._ ~e. m. bowden.~ the example of buddha: being quotations from buddhist literature for each day in the year. compiled by e. m. bowden. with preface by sir edwin arnold. _third edition. mo. s. d._ ~j. beever.~ practical fly-fishing, founded on nature, by john beever, late of the thwaite house, coniston. a new edition, with a memoir of the author by w. g. collingwood, m.a. _crown vo. s. d._ a little book on fly-fishing by an old friend of mr. ruskin. science ~freudenreich.~ dairy bacteriology. a short manual for the use of students. by dr. ed. von freudenreich. translated from the german by j. r. ainsworth davis, b.a., f.c.p. _crown vo. s. d._ ~chalmers mitchell.~ outlines of biology. by p. chalmers mitchell, m.a., f.z.s. _fully illustrated. crown vo. s._ a text-book designed to cover the new schedule issued by the royal college of physicians and surgeons. ~g. massee.~ a monograph of the myxogastres. by george massee. with coloured plates. _royal vo. s. net._ 'a work much in advance of any book in the language treating of this group of organisms. it is indispensable to every student of the myxogastres. the coloured plates deserve high praise for their accuracy and execution.'--_nature._ philosophy ~l. t. hobhouse.~ the theory of knowledge. by l. t. hobhouse, fellow and tutor of corpus college, oxford. _demy vo. s._ 'the most important contribution to english philosophy since the publication of mr. bradley's "appearance and reality." full of brilliant criticism and of positive theories which are models of lucid statement.'--_glasgow herald._ 'an elaborate and often brilliantly written volume. the treatment is one of great freshness, and the illustrations are particularly numerous and apt.'--_times._ ~w. h. fairbrother.~ the philosophy of t. h. green. by w. h. fairbrother, m.a., lecturer at lincoln college, oxford. _crown vo. s. d._ this volume is expository, not critical, and is intended for senior students at the universities and others, as a statement of green's teaching, and an introduction to the study of idealist philosophy. 'in every way an admirable book. as an introduction to the writings of perhaps the most remarkable speculative thinker whom england has produced in the present century, nothing could be better than mr. fairbrother's exposition and criticism.'--_glasgow herald._ ~f. w. bussell.~ the school of plato: its origin and its revival under the roman empire. by f. w. bussell, m.a., fellow and tutor of brasenose college, oxford. _demy vo. two volumes. s. d. each. vol. i._ 'a highly valuable contribution to the history of ancient thought.'--_glasgow herald._ 'a clever and stimulating book, provocative of thought and deserving careful reading.'--_manchester guardian._ ~f. s. granger.~ the worship of the romans. by f. s. granger, m.a., litt. d., professor of philosophy at university college, nottingham. _crown vo. s._ the author delineates that group of beliefs which stood in close connection with the roman religion, and among the subjects treated are dreams, nature worship, roman magic, divination, holy places, victims, etc. thus the book is also a contribution to folk-lore and comparative psychology. 'a scholarly analysis of the religious ceremonies, beliefs, and superstitions of ancient rome, conducted in the new instructive light of comparative anthropology.'--_times._ theology ~e. c. s. gibson.~ the xxxix. articles of the church of england. edited with an introduction by e. c. s. gibson, d.d., vicar of leeds, late principal of wells theological college. _in two volumes. demy vo. s. d. each. vol. i. articles i.-viii._ 'the tone maintained throughout is not that of the partial advocate, but the faithful exponent.'--_scotsman._ 'there are ample proofs of clearness of expression, sobriety of judgment, and breadth of view.... the book will be welcome to all students of the subject, and its sound, definite, and loyal theology ought to be of great service.'--_national observer._ 'so far from repelling the general reader, its orderly arrangement, lucid treatment, and felicity of diction invite and encourage his attention.'--_yorkshire post._ ~r. l. ottley.~ the doctrine of the incarnation. by r. l. ottley, m.a., late fellow of magdalen college, oxon., principal of pusey house. _in two volumes. demy vo. s._ 'learned and reverent: lucid and well arranged.'--_record._ 'accurate, well ordered, and judicious.'--_national observer._ 'a clear and remarkably full account of the main currents of speculation. scholarly precision ... genuine tolerance ... intense interest in his subject--are mr. ottley's merits.'--_guardian._ ~s. r. driver.~ sermons on subjects connected with the old testament. by s. r. driver, d.d., canon of christ church, regius professor of hebrew in the university of oxford. _crown vo. s._ 'a welcome companion to the author's famous 'introduction.' no man can read these discourses without feeling that dr. driver is fully alive to the deeper teaching of the old testament.'--_guardian._ ~t. k. cheyne.~ founders of old testament criticism: biographical, descriptive, and critical studies. by t. k. cheyne, d.d., oriel professor of the interpretation of holy scripture at oxford. _large crown vo. s. d._ this important book is a historical sketch of o. t. criticism in the form of biographical studies from the days of eichhorn to those of driver and robertson smith. it is the only book of its kind in english. 'a very learned and instructive work.'--_times._ ~c. h. prior.~ cambridge sermons. edited by c. h. prior, m.a., fellow and tutor of pembroke college. _crown vo. s._ a volume of sermons preached before the university of cambridge by various preachers, including the archbishop of canterbury and bishop westcott. 'a representative collection. bishop westcott's is a noble sermon.'--_guardian._ ~h. c. beeching.~ sermons to schoolboys. by h. c. beeching, m.a., rector of yattendon, berks. with a preface by canon scott holland. _crown vo. s. d._ seven sermons preached before the boys of bradfield college. ~e. b. layard.~ religion in boyhood. notes on the religious training of boys. with a preface by j. r. illingworth. by e. b. layard, m.a. _ mo. s._ devotional books. _with full-page illustrations. fcap. vo. buckram. d. padded morocco, s._ the imitation of christ. by thomas à kempis. with an introduction by dean farrar. illustrated by c. m. gere, and printed in black and red. _second edition._ 'amongst all the innumerable english editions of the "imitation," there can have been few which were prettier than this one, printed in strong and handsome type by messrs. constable, with all the glory of red initials, and the comfort of buckram binding.'--_glasgow herald._ the christian year.--by john keble. with an introduction and notes by w. lock, m.a., sub-warden of keble college, ireland professor at oxford, author of the 'life of john keble.' illustrated by r. anning bell. 'the present edition is annotated with all the care and insight to be expected from mr. lock. the progress and circumstances of its composition are detailed in the introduction. there is an interesting appendix on the mss. of the "christian year," and another giving the order in which the poems were written. a "short analysis of the thought" is prefixed to each, and any difficulty in the text is explained in a note.'--_guardian._ 'the most acceptable edition of this ever-popular work.'--_globe._ leaders of religion edited by h. c. beeching, m.a. _with portraits, crown vo._ a series of short biographies of the most prominent leaders of religious life and thought of all ages and countries. / the following are ready-- cardinal newman. by r. h. hutton. john wesley. by j. h. overton, m.a. bishop wilberforce. by g. w. daniel, m.a. cardinal manning. by a. w. hutton, m.a. charles simeon. by h. c. g. moule, m.a. john keble. by walter lock, m.a. thomas chalmers. by mrs. oliphant. lancelot andrewes. by r. l. ottley, m.a. augustine of canterbury. by e. l. cutts, d.d. william laud. by w. h. hutton, m.a. john knox. by f. mccunn. john howe. by r. f. horton, d.d. bishop ken. by f. a. clarke, m.a. george fox, the quaker. by t. hodgkin, d.c.l. other volumes will be announced in due course. fiction six shilling novels marie corelli's novels _crown vo. s. each._ a romance of two worlds. _fourteenth edition._ vendetta. _eleventh edition._ thelma. _fourteenth edition._ ardath. _tenth edition._ the soul of lilith. _ninth edition._ wormwood. _eighth edition._ barabbas: a dream of the world's tragedy. _twenty-fifth edition._ 'the tender reverence of the treatment and the imaginative beauty of the writing have reconciled us to the daring of the conception, and the conviction is forced on us that even so exalted a subject cannot be made too familiar to us, provided it be presented in the true spirit of christian faith. the amplifications of the scripture narrative are often conceived with high poetic insight, and this "dream of the world's tragedy" is, despite some trifling incongruities, a lofty and not inadequate paraphrase of the supreme climax of the inspired narrative.'--_dublin review._ the sorrows of satan. _twenty-ninth edition._ 'a very powerful piece of work.... the conception is magnificent, and is likely to win an abiding place within the memory of man.... the author has immense command of language, and a limitless audacity.... this interesting and remarkable romance will live long after much of the ephemeral literature of the day is forgotten.... a literary phenomenon ... novel, and even sublime.'--w. t. stead in the _review of reviews_. anthony hope's novels _crown vo. s. each._ the god in the car. _seventh edition._ 'a very remarkable book, deserving of critical analysis impossible within our limit; brilliant, but not superficial; well considered, but not elaborated; constructed with the proverbial art that conceals, but yet allows itself to be enjoyed by readers to whom fine literary method is a keen pleasure; true without cynicism, subtle without affectation, humorous without strain, witty without offence, inevitably sad, with an unmorose simplicity.'--_the world._ a change of air. _fourth edition._ 'a graceful, vivacious comedy, true to human nature. the characters are traced with a masterly hand.'--_times._ a man of mark. _third edition._ 'of all mr. hope's books, "a man of mark" is the one which best compares with "the prisoner of zenda." the two romances are unmistakably the work of the same writer, and he possesses a style of narrative peculiarly seductive, piquant, comprehensive, and--his own.'--_national observer._ the chronicles of count antonio. _third edition._ 'it is a perfectly enchanting story of love and chivalry, and pure romance. the outlawed count is the most constant, desperate, and withal modest and tender of lovers, a peerless gentleman, an intrepid fighter, a very faithful friend, and a most magnanimous foe. in short, he is an altogether admirable, lovable, and delightful hero. there is not a word in the volume that can give offence to the most fastidious taste of man or woman, and there is not, either, a dull paragraph in it. the book is everywhere instinct with the most exhilarating spirit of adventure, and delicately perfumed with the sentiment of all heroic and honourable deeds of history and romance.'--_guardian._ s. baring gould's novels _crown vo. s. each._ 'to say that a book is by the author of "mehalah" is to imply that it contains a story cast on strong lines, containing dramatic possibilities, vivid and sympathetic descriptions of nature, and a wealth of ingenious imagery.'--_speaker._ 'that whatever mr. baring gould writes is well worth reading, is a conclusion that may be very generally accepted. his views of life are fresh and vigorous, his language pointed and characteristic, the incidents of which he makes use are striking and original, his characters are life-like, and though somewhat exceptional people, are drawn and coloured with artistic force. add to this that his descriptions of scenes and scenery are painted with the loving eyes and skilled hands of a master of his art, that he is always fresh and never dull, and under such conditions it is no wonder that readers have gained confidence both in his power of amusing and satisfying them, and that year by year his popularity widens.'--_court circular._ arminell: a social romance. _fourth edition._ urith: a story of dartmoor. _fourth edition._ 'the author is at his best.'--_times._ 'he has nearly reached the high water-mark of "mehalah."'--_national observer._ in the roar of the sea. _fifth edition._ 'one of the best imagined and most enthralling stories the author has produced.'--_saturday review._ mrs. curgenven of curgenven. _fourth edition._ 'a novel of vigorous humour and sustained power.'--_graphic._ 'the swing of the narrative is splendid.'--_sussex daily news._ cheap jack zita. _third edition._ 'a powerful drama of human passion.'--_westminster gazette._ 'a story worthy the author.'--_national observer._ the queen of love. _fourth edition._ 'the scenery is admirable, and the dramatic incidents are most striking.'--_glasgow herald._ 'strong, interesting, and clever.'--_westminster gazette._ 'you cannot put it down until you have finished it.'--_punch._ 'can be heartily recommended to all who care for cleanly, energetic, and interesting fiction.'--_sussex daily news._ kitty alone. _fourth edition._ 'a strong and original story, teeming with graphic description, stirring incident, and, above all, with vivid and enthralling human interest.'--_daily telegraph._ 'brisk, clever, keen, healthy, humorous, and interesting.'--_national observer._ 'full of quaint and delightful studies of character.'--_bristol mercury._ noÉmi: a romance of the cave-dwellers. illustrated by r. caton woodville. _third edition._ '"noémi" is as excellent a tale of fighting and adventure as one may wish to meet. all the characters that interfere in this exciting tale are marked with properties of their own. the narrative also runs clear and sharp as the loire itself.'--_pall mall gazette._ 'mr. baring gould's powerful story is full of the strong lights and shadows and vivid colouring to which he has accustomed us.'--_standard._ the broom-squire. illustrated by frank dadd. _third edition._ 'a strain of tenderness is woven through the web of his tragic tale, and its atmosphere is sweetened by the nobility and sweetness of the heroine's character.'--_daily news._ 'a story of exceptional interest that seems to us to be better than anything he has written of late.'--_speaker._ 'a powerful and striking story.'--_guardian._ 'a powerful piece of work.'--_black and white._ gilbert parker's novels _crown vo. s. each._ pierre and his people. _third edition._ 'stories happily conceived and finely executed. there is strength and genius in mr. parker's style.'--_daily telegraph._ mrs. falchion. _third edition._ 'a splendid study of character.'--_athenæum._ 'but little behind anything that has been done by any writer of our time.'--_pall mall gazette._ 'a very striking and admirable novel.'--_st. james's gazette._ the translation of a savage. 'the plot is original and one difficult to work out; but mr. parker has done it with great skill and delicacy. the reader who is not interested in this original, fresh, and well-told tale must be a dull person indeed.'--_daily chronicle._ 'a strong and successful piece of workmanship. the portrait of lali, strong, dignified, and pure, is exceptionally well drawn.'--_manchester guardian._ the trail of the sword. _fourth edition._ 'everybody with a soul for romance will thoroughly enjoy "the trail of the sword."'--_st. james's gazette._ 'a rousing and dramatic tale. a book like this, in which swords flash, great surprises are undertaken, and daring deeds done, in which men and women live and love in the old straightforward passionate way, is a joy inexpressible to the reviewer, brain-weary of the domestic tragedies and psychological puzzles of everyday fiction; and we cannot but believe that to the reader it will bring refreshment as welcome and as keen.'--_daily chronicle._ when valmond came to pontiac: the story of a lost napoleon. _third edition._ 'here we find romance--real, breathing, living romance, but it runs flush with our own times, level with our own feelings. not here can we complain of lack of inevitableness or homogeneity. the character of valmond is drawn unerringly; his career, brief as it is, is placed before us as convincingly as history itself. the book must be read, we may say re-read, for any one thoroughly to appreciate mr. parker's delicate touch and innate sympathy with humanity.'--_pall mall gazette._ 'the one work of genius which has as yet produced.'--_new age._ an adventurer of the north: the last adventures of 'pretty pierre.' 'the present book is full of fine and moving stories of the great north, and it will add to mr. parker's already high reputation.'--_glasgow herald._ 'the new book is very romantic and very entertaining--full of that peculiarly elegant spirit of adventure which is so characteristic of mr. parker, and of that poetic thrill which has given him warmer, if less numerous, admirers than even his romantic story-telling gift has done.'--_sketch._ the seats of the mighty. _illustrated._ _fourth edition._ 'the best thing he has done; one of the best things that any one has done lately.'--_st. james's gazette._ 'mr. parker seems to become stronger and easier with every serious novel that he attempts.... in "the seats of the mighty" he shows the matured power which his former novels have led us to expect, and has produced a really fine historical novel.... the great creation of the book is doltaire.... his character is drawn with quite masterly strokes, for he is a villain who is not altogether a villain, and who attracts the reader, as he did the other characters, by the extraordinary brilliance of his gifts, and by the almost unconscious acts of nobility which he performs.... most sincerely is mr. parker to be congratulated on the finest novel he has yet written.'--_athenæum._ 'mr. parker's latest book places him in the front rank of living novelists. "the seats of the mighty" is a great book.'--_black and white._ 'one of the strongest stories of historical interest and adventure that we have read for many a day.... through all mr. parker moves with an assured step, whilst in his treatment of his subject there is that happy blending of the poetical with the prosaic which has characterised all his writings. a notable and successful book.'--_speaker._ 'the story is very finely and dramatically told.... in none of his books has his imaginative faculty appeared to such splendid purpose as here. captain moray, alixe, gabord, vauban--above all, doltaire--and, indeed, every person who takes part in the action of the story are clearly conceived and finely drawn and individualised.'--_scotsman._ 'an admirable romance. the glory of a romance is its plot, and this plot is crowded with fine sensations, which have no rest until the fall of the famous old city and the final restitution of love.'--_pall mall gazette._ ~conan doyle.~ round the red lamp. by a. conan doyle, author of 'the white company,' 'the adventures of sherlock holmes,' etc. _fourth edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'the book is, indeed, composed of leaves from life, and is far and away the best view that has been vouchsafed us behind the scenes of the consulting-room. it is very superior to "the diary of a late physician."'--_illustrated london news._ ~stanley weyman.~ under the red rose. by stanley weyman, author of 'a gentleman of france.' with twelve illustrations by r. caton woodville. _eighth edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'a book of which we have read every word for the sheer pleasure of reading, and which we put down with a pang that we cannot forget it all and start again.'--_westminster gazette._ 'every one who reads books at all must read this thrilling romance, from the first page of which to the last the breathless reader is haled along. an inspiration of "manliness and courage."'--_daily chronicle._ 'a delightful tale of chivalry and adventure, vivid and dramatic, with a wholesome modesty and reverence for the highest.'--_globe._ ~mrs. clifford.~ a flash of summer. by mrs. w. k. clifford, author of 'aunt anne,' etc. _second edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'the story is a very sad and a very beautiful one, exquisitely told, and enriched with many subtle touches of wise and tender insight. it will, undoubtedly, add to its author's reputation--already high--in the ranks of novelists.'--_speaker._ 'we must congratulate mrs. clifford upon a very successful and interesting story, told throughout with finish and a delicate sense of proportion, qualities which, indeed, have always distinguished the best work of this very able writer.'--_manchester guardian._ ~emily lawless.~ hurrish. by the honble. emily lawless, author of 'maelcho,' etc. _fifth edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ a reissue of miss lawless' most popular novel, uniform with 'maelcho.' ~emily lawless.~ maelcho: a sixteenth century romance. by the honble. emily lawless, author of 'grania,' etc. _second edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'a really great book.'--_spectator._ 'there is no keener pleasure in life than the recognition of genius. good work is commoner than it used to be, but the best is as rare as ever. all the more gladly, therefore, do we welcome in "maelcho" a piece of work of the first order, which we do not hesitate to describe as one of the most remarkable literary achievements of this generation. miss lawless is possessed of the very essence of historical genius.'--_manchester guardian._ ~j. h. findlater.~ the green graves of balgowrie. by jane h. findlater. _third edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'a powerful and vivid story.'--_standard._ 'a beautiful story, sad and strange as truth itself.'--_vanity fair._ 'a work of remarkable interest and originality.'--_national observer._ 'a really original novel.'--_journal of education._ 'a very charming and pathetic tale.'--_pall mall gazette._ 'a singularly original, clever, and beautiful story.'--_guardian._ '"the green graves of balgowrie" reveals to us a new scotch writer of undoubted faculty and reserve force.'--_spectator._ 'an exquisite idyll, delicate, affecting, and beautiful.'--_black and white._ 'permeated with high and noble purpose. it is one of the most wholesome stories we have met with, and cannot fail to leave a deep and lasting impression.'--_newsagent._ ~e. f. benson.~ dodo: a detail of the day. by e. f. benson. _sixteenth edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'a delightfully witty sketch of society.'--_spectator._ 'a perpetual feast of epigram and paradox.'--_speaker._ 'by a writer of quite exceptional ability.'--_athenæum._ 'brilliantly written.'--_world._ ~e. f. benson.~ the rubicon. by e. f. benson, author of 'dodo.' _fifth edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'well written, stimulating, unconventional, and, in a word, characteristic.'--_birmingham post._ 'an exceptional achievement; a notable advance on his previous work.'--_national observer._ ~m. m. dowie.~ gallia. by ménie muriel dowie, author of 'a girl in the carpathians.' _third edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'the style is generally admirable, the dialogue not seldom brilliant, the situations surprising in their freshness and originality, while the subsidiary as well as the principal characters live and move, and the story itself is readable from title-page to colophon.'--_saturday review._ 'a very notable book; a very sympathetically, at times delightfully written book.'--_daily graphic._ ~mrs. oliphant.~ sir robert's fortune. by mrs. oliphant. _crown vo._ _s._ 'full of her own peculiar charm of style and simple, subtle character-painting come her new gift, the delightful story before us. the scene mostly lies in the moors, and at the touch of the authoress a scotch moor becomes a living thing, strong tender, beautiful, and changeful.'--_pall mall gazette._ ~mrs. oliphant.~ the two marys. by mrs. oliphant. _second edition. crown vo._ _s._ ~w. e. norris.~ matthew austin. by w. e. norris, author of 'mademoiselle de mersac,' etc. _fourth edition. crown vo._ _s._ '"matthew austin" may safely be pronounced one of the most intellectually satisfactory and morally bracing novels of the current year.'--_daily telegraph._ ~w. e. norris.~ his grace. by w. e. norris. _third edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'mr. norris has drawn a really fine character in the duke of horstbourne, at once unconventional and very true to the conventionalities of life, weak and strong in a breath, capable of inane follies and heroic decisions, yet not so definitely portrayed as to relieve a reader of the necessity of study.'--_athenæum._ ~w. e. norris.~ the despotic lady and others. by w. e. norris. _crown vo._ _s._ 'a budget of good fiction of which no one will tire.'--_scotsman._ 'an extremely entertaining volume--the sprightliest of holiday companions.'--_daily telegraph._ ~h. g. wells.~ the stolen bacillus, and other stories. by h. g. wells, author of 'the time machine.' _crown vo._ _s._ 'the ordinary reader of fiction may be glad to know that these stories are eminently readable from one cover to the other, but they are more than that; they are the impressions of a very striking imagination, which, it would seem, has a great deal within its reach.'--_saturday review._ ~arthur morrison.~ tales of mean streets. by arthur morrison. _fourth edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'told with consummate art and extraordinary detail. he tells a plain, unvarnished tale, and the very truth of it makes for beauty. in the true humanity of the book lies its justification, the permanence of its interest, and its indubitable triumph.'--_athenæum._ 'a great book. the author's method is amazingly effective, and produces a thrilling sense of reality. the writer lays upon us a master hand. the book is simply appalling and irresistible in its interest. it is humorous also; without humour it would not make the mark it is certain to make.'--_world._ ~j. maclaren cobban.~ the king of andaman: a saviour of society. by j. maclaren cobban. _crown vo._ _s._ 'an unquestionably interesting book. it would not surprise us if it turns out to be the most interesting novel of the season, for it contains one character, at least, who has in him the root of immortality, and the book itself is ever exhaling the sweet savour of the unexpected.... plot is forgotten and incident fades, and only the really human endures, and throughout this book there stands out in bold and beautiful relief its high-souled and chivalric protagonist, james the master of hutcheon, the king of andaman himself.'--_pall mall gazette._ 'a most original and refreshing story. james hutcheon is a personage whom it is good to know and impossible to forget. he is beautiful within and without, whichever way we take him.'--_spectator._ '"the king of andaman," is a book which does credit not less to the heart than the head of its author.'--_athenæum._ 'the fact that her majesty the queen has been pleased to gracefully express to the author of "the king of andaman" her interest in his work will doubtless find for it many readers.'--_vanity fair._ ~h. morrah.~ a serious comedy. by herbert morrah. _crown vo._ _s._ 'there are many delightful places in this volume, which is well worthy of its title. the theme has seldom been presented with more freshness or more force.'--_scotsman._ ~l. b. walford.~ successors to the title. by mrs. walford, author of 'mr. smith,' etc. _second edition. crown vo._ _s._ 'the story is fresh and healthy from beginning to finish; and our liking for the two simple people who are the successors to the title mounts steadily, and ends almost in respect.'--_scotsman._ 'the book is quite worthy to be ranked with many clever predecessors. it is excellent reading.'--_glasgow herald._ ~t. l. paton.~ a home in inveresk. by t. l. paton. _crown vo._ _s._ 'a distinctly fresh and fascinating novel.'--_montrose standard._ 'a book which bears marks of considerable promise.'--_scotsman._ 'a pleasant and well-written story.'--_daily chronicle._ ~john davidson.~ miss armstrong's and other circumstances. by john davidson. _crown vo._ _s._ 'throughout the volume there is a strong vein of originality, a strength in the handling, and a knowledge of human nature that are worthy of the highest praise.'--_scotsman._ ~j. b. burton.~ in the day of adversity. by j. bloundelle burton. _crown vo._ _s._ 'unusually interesting and full of highly dramatic situations.'--_guardian._ 'a well-written story, drawn from that inexhaustible mine, the time of louis xiv.'--_pall mall gazette._ ~h. johnston.~ dr. congalton's legacy. by henry johnston. _crown vo._ _s._ 'the story is redolent of humour, pathos, and tenderness, while it is not without a touch of tragedy.'--_scotsman._ 'a worthy and permanent contribution to scottish creative literature.'--_glasgow herald._ ~julian corbett.~ a business in great waters. by julian corbett. _crown vo._ _s._ 'in this stirring story mr. julian corbett has done excellent work, welcome alike for its distinctly literary flavour, and for the wholesome tone which pervades it. mr. corbett writes with immense spirit, and the book is a thoroughly enjoyable one in all respects. the salt of the ocean is in it, and the right heroic ring resounds through its gallant adventures.'--_speaker._ ~c. phillips woolley.~ the queensberry cup. a tale of adventure. by clive phillips woolley, author of 'snap,' editor of 'big game shooting.' _illustrated._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'a book which will delight boys: a book which upholds the healthy schoolboy code of morality.'--_scotsman._ 'a brilliant book. dick st. clair, of caithness, is an almost ideal character--a combination of the mediæval knight and the modern pugilist.'--_admiralty and horse-guards gazette._ ~robert barr.~ in the midst of alarms. by robert barr. _third edition._ _crown vo._ _s._ 'a book which has abundantly satisfied us by its capital humour.'--_daily chronicle._ 'mr. barr has achieved a triumph whereof he has every reason to be proud.'--_pall mall gazette._ ~l. daintrey.~ the king of alberia. a romance of the balkans. by laura daintrey. _crown vo._ _s._ 'miss daintrey seems to have an intimate acquaintance with the people and politics of the balkan countries in which the scene of her lively and picturesque romance is laid. on almost every page we find clever touches of local colour which differentiate her book unmistakably from the ordinary novel of commerce. the story is briskly told, and well conceived.'--_glasgow herald._ ~mrs. pinsent.~ children of this world. by ellen f. pinsent, author of 'jenny's case.' _crown vo. s._ 'mrs. pinsent's new novel has plenty of vigour, variety, and good writing. there are certainty of purpose, strength of touch, and clearness of vision.'--_athenæum._ ~clark russell.~ my danish sweetheart. by w. clark russell, author of 'the wreck of the grosvenor,' etc. _illustrated. fourth edition. crown vo. s._ ~g. manville fenn.~ an electric spark. by g. manville fenn. _second edition. crown vo. s._ 'a simple and wholesome story.'--_manchester guardian._ ~r. pryce.~ time and the woman. by richard pryce, author of 'miss maxwell's affections,' 'the quiet mrs. fleming,' etc. _second edition. crown vo. s._ 'mr. pryce's work recalls the style of octavo feuillet, by its clearness, conciseness, its literary reserve.'--_athenæum._ ~mrs. watson.~ this man's dominion. by the author of 'a high little world.' _second edition. crown vo. s._ ~marriott watson.~ diogenes of london. by h. b. marriott watson. _crown vo. buckram. s._ 'by all those who delight in the uses of words, who rate the exercise of prose above the exercise of verse, who rejoice in all proofs of its delicacy and its strength, who believe that english prose is chief among the moulds of thought, by these mr. marriott watson's book will be welcomed.'--_national observer._ ~m. gilchrist.~ the stone dragon. by murray gilchrist. _crown vo. buckram. s._ 'the author's faults are atoned for by certain positive and admirable merits. the romances have not their counterpart in modern literature, and to read them is a unique experience.'--_national observer._ ~e. dickinson.~ a vicar's wife. by evelyn dickinson. _crown vo. s._ ~e. m. gray.~ elsa. by e. m'queen gray. _crown vo. s._ three-and-sixpenny novels / _crown vo._ derrick vaughan, novelist. by edna lyall. margery of quether. by s. baring gould. jacquetta. by s. baring gould. subject to vanity. by margaret benson. the moving finger. by mary gaunt. jaco treloar. by j. h. pearce. aut diabolus aut nihil. by x. l. the coming of cuculain. a romance of the heroic age of ireland. by standish o'grady. _illustrated_. the gods give my donkey wings. by angus evan abbott. the star gazers. by g. manville fenn. the poison of asps. by r. orton prowse. the quiet mrs. fleming. by r. pryce. the plan of campaign. by f. mabel robinson. disenchantment. by f. mabel robinson. mr. butler's ward. by f. mabel robinson. a lost illusion. by leslie keith. a reverend gentleman. by j. m. cobban. a deplorable affair. by w. e. norris. a cavalier's ladye. by mrs. dicker. half-crown novels / _a series of novels by popular authors_. . hovenden, v.c. by f. mabel robinson. . eli's children. by g. manville fenn. . a double knot. by g. manville fenn. . disarmed. by m. betham edwards. . a marriage at sea. by w. clark russell. . in tent and bungalow. by the author of 'indian idylls.' . my stewardship. by e. m'queen gray. . jack's father. by w. e. norris. . jim b. * * * * * ~lynn linton~. the true history of joshua davidson, christian and communist. by e. lynn linton. _eleventh edition_. _post vo._ _s._ * * * * * books for boys and girls / _a series of books by well-known authors, well illustrated._ . the icelander's sword. by s. baring gould. . two little children and ching. by edith e. cuthell. . toddleben's hero. by m. m. blake. . only a guard room dog. by edith e. cuthell. . the doctor of the juliet. by harry collingwood. . master rockafellar's voyage. by w. clark russell. . syd belton: or, the boy who would not go to sea. by g. manville fenn. the peacock library _a series of books for girls by well-known authors, handsomely bound in blue and silver, and well illustrated._ / . a pinch of experience. by l. b. walford. . the red grange. by mrs. molesworth. . the secret of madame de monluc. by the author of 'mdle mori.' . dumps. by mrs. parr, author of 'adam and eve.' . out of the fashion. by l. t. meade. . a girl of the people. by l. t. meade. . hepsy gipsy. by l. t. meade. _s._ _d._ . the honourable miss. by l. t. meade. . my land of beulah. by mrs. leith adams. university extension series a series of books on historical, literary, and scientific subjects, suitable for extension students and home-reading circles. each volume is complete in itself, and the subjects are treated by competent writers in a broad and philosophic spirit. edited by j. e. symes, m.a., principal of university college, nottingham. _crown vo._ _price (with some exceptions)_ _s._ _d._ _the following volumes are ready_:-- c of england. by h. de b. gibbins, m.a., late scholar of wadham college, oxon., cobden prizeman. _fourth edition._ _with maps and plans._ _s._ 'a compact and clear story of our industrial development. a study of this concise but luminous book cannot fail to give the reader a clear insight into the principal phenomena of our industrial history. the editor and publishers are to be congratulated on this first volume of their venture, and we shall look with expectant interest for the succeeding volumes of the series.'--_university extension journal._ a history of english political economy. by l. l. price, m.a., fellow of oriel college, oxon. _second edition._ problems of poverty: an inquiry into the industrial conditions of the poor. by j. a. hobson, m.a. _third edition._ victorian poets. by a. sharp. the french revolution. by j. e. symes, m.a. psychology. by f. s. granger, m.a., lecturer in philosophy at university college, nottingham. the evolution of plant life: lower forms. by g. massee, kew gardens. _with illustrations._ air and water. professor v. b. lewes, m.a. _illustrated._ the chemistry of life and health. by c. w. kimmins, m.a. camb. _illustrated._ the mechanics of daily life. by v. p. sells, m.a. _illustrated._ english social reformers. h. de b. gibbins, m.a. english trade and finance in the seventeenth century. by w. a. s. hewins, b.a. the chemistry of fire. the elementary principles of chemistry. by m. m. pattison muir, m.a. _illustrated._ a text-book of agricultural botany. by m. c. potter, m.a., f.l.s. _illustrated._ _s._ _d._ the vault of heaven. a popular introduction to astronomy. by r. a. gregory. _with numerous illustrations._ meteorology. the elements of weather and climate. by h. n. dickson, f.r.s.e., f.r. met. soc. _illustrated._ a manual of electrical science. by george j. burch, m.a. _with numerous illustrations._ _s_. the earth. an introduction to physiography. by evan small, m.a. _illustrated._ insect life. by f. w. theobald, m.a. _illustrated._ english poetry from blake to browning. by w. m. dixon, m.a. english local government. by e. jenks, m.a., professor of law at university college, liverpool. social questions of to-day edited by h. de b. gibbins, m.a. _crown vo._ _s._ _d._ / a series of volumes upon those topics of social, economic, and industrial interest that are at the present moment foremost in the public mind. each volume of the series is written by an author who is an acknowledged authority upon the subject with which he deals. _the following volumes of the series are ready:_-- trade unionism--new and old. by g. howell, author of 'the conflicts of capital and labour.' _second edition._ the co-operative movement to-day. by g. j. holyoake, author of 'the history of co-operation.' _second edition._ mutual thrift. by rev. j. frome wilkinson, m.a., author of 'the friendly society movement.' problems of poverty: an inquiry into the industrial conditions of the poor. by j. a. hobson, m.a. _third edition._ the commerce of nations. by c. f. bastable, m.a., professor of economics at trinity college, dublin. the alien invasion. by w. h. wilkins, b.a, secretary to the society for preventing the immigration of destitute aliens. the rural exodus. by p. anderson graham. land nationalization. by harold cox, b.a. a shorter working day. by h. de b. gibbins and r. a. hadfield, of the hecla works, sheffield. back to the land: an inquiry into the cure for rural depopulation. by h. e. moore. trusts, pools and corners: as affecting commerce and industry. by j. stephen jeans, m.r.i., f.s.s. the factory system. by r. cooke taylor. the state and its children. by gertrude tuckwell. women's work. by lady dilke, miss bulley, and miss whitley. municipalities at work. the municipal policy of six great towns, and its influence on their social welfare. by frederick dolman. socialism and modern thought. by m. kaufmann. the housing of the working classes. by r. f. bowmaker. modern civilisation in 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_in two vols._ part i. chemistry; part ii. physics. general knowledge examination papers. by a. m. m. stedman, m. a. _second edition._ key issued as above. _s._ _net._ printed by t. and a. constable, printers to her majesty at the edinburgh university press google books (harvard college) transcriber's notes: . page scan source: google books https://books.google.com/books?id=ocqnaaaayaaj (harvard college) . the diphthong oe is represented by [oe]. the hispaniola plate. the hispaniola plate. ( - ) by john bloundelle-burton --------- "we passed the tropics, as near as we could guess, just where the famous sir william phips fished up the silver from the spanish plate wreck."--defoe ("colonel jack"). --------- new york the cassell publishing co. union square, north copyright, , by the cassell publishing co. _all rights reserved_. to those officers of the royal navy with whom i have, for some years, spent many pleasant weeks annually during the naval man[oe]uvres, while acting as special correspondent of _the standard_, i venture to inscribe, with great cordiality, this story-- partly true and partly fictitious--of captain, sir william phips, r.n., and of lieutenants nicholas and reginald crafer, r.n. preface. most of the maps of the west indies published during the first half of the present century and anterior to that date mark distinctly the spot where the following story principally takes place. thirty miles due north of cape français, on the north coast of san domingo, is a reef entitled "bajo de la plata, or phips's plate," while more modern maps simply describe it as "silver bank." this is, of course, the spot where sir william phips--a now forgotten figure in history--obtained the plate mentioned by defoe; and, so far as i am aware, there is but one detailed account in existence of how he found and secured that plate. this account is contained in a duodecimo volume entitled "_pietas in patriam_: the life of sir william phips," published in london in anonymously, but guaranteed as accurate by several people who knew him. a production entitled "the library of american biography," edited by one jared sparks, also professes to give an accurate biography of phips, but it is simply a garbled and mangled copy of the london publication. i should also mention that the "biographia britannica" refers to the expedition in the article on "christopher monk, second duke of albemarle." so does a work of the last century entitled "the lives of the admirals," by lawrence echard, and so also do some encyclopædias; but all of them undoubtedly derive their information from "_pietas in patriam_." this work i have myself carefully followed, because in it alone are to be found the descriptions of the "frygate algier rose," her eighteen guns and ninety-five men, of the various mutinies, of alderly's arrival on the scene, of the second voyage with the tender, and so forth. indeed, beyond the requirements of fiction the account is absolutely an account of what happened until the chase after alderly by nicholas crafer, when fiction itself becomes predominant. alderly, i should add, was as real a character as phips himself. so was the carpenter who discovered the second mutiny. the rest, with the exception of the duke of albemarle, are imaginary. i may add, in conclusion, that "the hispaniola plate" appeared originally in _the st. james's budget_. a new novelist. nothing is more notable in recent literature than the sudden renewal of interest in the historical novel. mr. stanley weyman is the most successful of this group of younger writers, but there is now treading on his heels another young novelist, whose work shows such splendid promise as well as such remarkable achievement, that he bids fair to outstrip mr. weyman and come first to the goal. this is mr. john bloundelle-burton, whose story, "the desert ship," created such a stir in london a short time ago. mr. burton was born in . his parents intended him for a military life, but when at twenty-one he came into a comfortable inheritance, he determined to see something of the world. already familiar with the continent, he turned to fresher pastures and came to canada; then running over the border into the "states," he lived down south for a considerable period. in baltimore he first contracted the writing habit, sending an article to a paper there, which accepted it with thanks, but with nothing else. while down south he fell in with "red cloud," an indian chief, picking up much information that was strange and new, and that was later to be utilized in "the desert ship." going back to england, he flitted between london and paris, the latter being his favorite abode. in the place de la madeleine he lived with a company that contained representatives of every class and country. describing them mr. bloundelle-burton says: "one of our number was a scotch duke; another a tailor's son, enormously rich and not a bad fellow; another a spahi, home on leave from africa; a fourth a spaniard, rolling in money; another an american, who afterward died in prison while awaiting his trial for killing--absolutely killing--a man in a duel. they could not get over that in paris; indeed, as a frenchman said to me, it really looked as if the american had fully intended to murder his countryman." living in this way in paris, our author began to write more and more; first for foreign papers, then for english ones. he began a connection with galignani, which lasted intermittently for a long interval, and brought him acquaintance with many notable men, among them jules grévy, several years later president of the republic. his next venture was sending english papers news from different popular resorts on the continent--switzerland and the tyrol, italy and the riviera. later on he helped edit a paper called _the american visitor_, which told rich americans where they could spend their money most rapidly, and where they had the best opportunity for catching a glimpse of fashionable society in england and on the continent. mr. burton's first long story was "the silent shore," which had quite a career under several different guises. originally published in volume form, it later appeared as a play at the olympic theater, then ran as a serial in spanish in a south american paper, and ended up as a serial in several english provincial papers. his next story was, "his own enemy," in the author's opinion, the best novel he has yet produced, "though not, i hope, the best i shall write," he adds. "the desert ship," mr. burton's next book and the first to bring him genuine fame, was published by hutchinson & co., in london. it was received with a burst of praise from the critics, even mr. labouchere's sarcastic and hard-to-please paper, _truth_, declaring it to be "an enthralling story and a book which will mark a period in the existence of anyone who is fortunate enough to get it. it is," the paper added, "as exciting as anything verne ever wrote, and with the reality of robert louis stevenson." nothing succeeds like success, as mr. burton rapidly learned; editors with orders up their sleeves dropped in upon the rising young author, and he found it hard to satisfy all the demands made upon him. all this solicitation for the work of his pen resulted in a sudden literary output. two stories appeared in quick succession: "the gentleman adventurer," which ran in _young england_, and "the adventures of viscount annerly," which was published in the _people_. "the hispaniola plate," mr. burton's last and strongest book, is a semi-historical story. the scene is laid in the west indies. the two principal characters belong to the royal navy, one living in cromwell's, charles ii.'s and james ii.'s reigns, the other in the present day; and the way in which the two periods are blended into the one book exhibits masterly skill. mr. burton is a passionate lover of the sea. descended from a line of ancestors that acquired fame in the british navy--his grandfather, lieutenant jermy, was a noted old commander of english ships and participated in the battle of new orleans in --he has in his blood a taste for the salt sea wave, and this gives his stories their breezy, out-of-door atmosphere. mr. burton has a pleasant home just out of london at barnes common. like so many other englishmen of prominence in these days, he is married to an american woman. he is a large, broad-chested man, standing six feet, two inches and a quarter, in his shoes, with dark, piercing eyes. mr. burton has decided views about the true methods for literary work. he does not believe in fixing on a good subject for a novel, then selecting a picturesque period, and, after making yourself thoroughly acquainted with the manners and customs of that epoch, planting your characters in it, as is the habit of certain novelists. the story must come to you, you cannot go out and bring it in. "i never think," he says, "of producing a story laid in a period (or about persons) which i have to read up--to 'mug' up, as we used to say at school. but i have been an ardent reader of history and memoirs all my life, and the story arises naturally from periods and incidents with which i am well acquainted." "i mean," he adds, "that the story should fit into an intimate acquaintance with the _mise-en-scène_, not that the _mise-en-scène_ should be hunted up to fit the story." no one who reads this exciting story, "the hispaniola plate," and who is held captive by its vivid scenes, its deep, rich coloring, its overmastering air of reality, but will wish long life to this strong and original talent, which already has behind it such remarkable achievement. may we have many such books from his pen! contents. chapter i. nicholas crafer's strange will chapter ii. an old bit of history chapter iii. the vanished mr. wargrave chapter iv. cazalet's bank chapter v. captain william phips chapter vi. the beginning of a mutiny chapter vii. the ending of it chapter viii. the second mutiny chapter ix. and the preparations against it chapter x. and how it was ended chapter xi. they have to desist chapter xii. the bark "furie" chapter xiii. the old man's story chapter xiv. the wreck is found chapter xv. what the first search revealed chapter xvi. an honest man arrives chapter xvii. an alarm from the "furie" chapter xviii. treachery and flight chapter xix. the "honest man" in his true colours chapter xx. a fight chapter xxi. the villain's den chapter xxii. mad! chapter xxiii. the treasure house chapter xxiv. what was in the treasure house chapter xxv. the middle key chapter xxvi. nicholas leaves the island chapter xxvii. the narrative ends chapter xxviii. off to the virgin isles chapter xxix. drawing near chapter xxx. out of the depths of a far distant past chapter xxxi. some light upon the past chapter xxxii. the solitude is interrupted chapter xxxiii. the island's owner chapter xxxiv. joseph alderly chapter xxxv. danger impending chapter xxxvi. beware! chapter xxxvii. "and death the end of all" chapter xxxviii. the owner of the treasure chapter xxxix. the approaching search chapter xl. the search chapter xli. the end the hispaniola plate chapter i. nicholas crafer's strange will. "gray's inn square, oct. th, . "my dear sir,--in answer to your request, i beg to inform you that the terms by which you inherit 'phips house,' at strand-on-the-green, from your late uncle, are as follows--the statement being taken from the last will and testament of your ancestor nicholas crafer, made in the year :-- 'and i do hereby will and bequeathe that ye house called phips by me, after my late captain and commander, sir william phips, when i purchased yt from mr. clitherow of branford, do forever remaine in the possession of some descendant of mine, male or female, the former for choyce and preference, yet not also debarring, in fault of any bearing the name of crafer existinge, those descending from the female side to succeed. that is to saye, it is to so remaine forever unless through it whoever doth succeede shall thereinto find the means whereby to obtain unto themselves a fortune of and equivalint unto the summe of fiftie thousand guineas, the which i do hereby testify the meanes are forthcoming. after whych the house may be disposed of as best beseemeth those who have so found ye fortune. this, therefore, i say, "seeke and ye shall find, knocke and yt shall be opened unto you."' "this will, in spite of its quaintness, has ever, and will probably always, hold good, although not law, until one thing occurs of two: either that the house falls down of old age (which it seemed very likely to do when i inspected it after your late uncle's decease) or that some descendant of commander nicholas crafer shall find the means of making the fortune of , guineas in or through it--a most unlikely thing to happen. for, as you know, many generations of crafers have searched through the house from basement to garret, imagining that the original testator meant to hint that somewhere about it, was hidden away such a sum of money as he mentions; and always without result. nor has the ingenuity of one generation after another ever been able to hit upon any hidden meaning which might be contained in the words of the will, or to find anything excepting the scrap of paper once discovered, of which you know; while certainly the land on which it stands--something under three acres--can hardly ever become of such value, or one-twentieth part of it. "but as you know as much about your ancestor as i can possibly tell you, i need not write further, and i have only to state that, during your absence abroad, everything has been done to facilitate handing over the house to you on your return, and i now propose to prove your uncle's will, and, after the usual formalities, to put you in possession of phips house and other property left by him.--yours faithfully, "a. bentham." this was the letter which reginald crafer read at his breakfast, one fine autumn morning, as he sat in that good old hostelry, "the george," at portsmouth--a letter which he had found at the naval club after his early morning walk on the battery--a walk taken with the view of aiding an already exceedingly good appetite, and of having a look at the waves dancing out at the nab and sparkling in the bright october sunshine. a better specimen of the young lieutenant of to-day than reginald crafer (with "n" after his name to show that he had taken up navigation as his branch) you might not see in any of her majesty's ships. tall, but not too tall for a sailor; close-shaven, as becometh the young naval officer of to-day, yet with excellent features that required nothing in the shape of whiskers or moustache to set them off; with clear grey eyes and a wholesome sunburnt skin--what more could a young man desire in the shape of personal gifts? nay, what more pleasing a sight to gaze upon than this smart, good-looking young officer could the heart of a maiden desire? now reginald crafer--whom at this present moment you see eating buttered toast and a fried sole, as he reads his lawyer's letter--had just come home from the china station in the _ianthe_ (twin-screw cruiser, first-class, armoured, , tons); and she having been paid off, the young man was on leave for the time being. he had slept at "the george" overnight for two reasons (ordinarily the naval officer rushes to london by the first train that will bear him, when once he has set foot on shore), one being that he wanted to go to a ball at the commander-in-chief's to which the officers of the returned cruiser were mostly invited; the other, that he expected to find a letter from the solicitor, mr. bentham--which, as you have seen, he did find. this letter was in reply to one that reginald had sent to the lawyer from hong kong, which in its own turn had also been a reply. for to the young lieutenant there had come at the station a letter from mr.. bentham, stating that his uncle--also a reginald crafer--was dead, that he had left the younger reginald a few thousand pounds (the principal part of his income having been derived from an annuity and a government pension) and "phips house." then reginald had written back for further details, had received the above-quoted answer at the naval club this morning, and--_voilà tout!_ of course, he knew as much about the mysterious entailment of phips house as the lawyer did; it would have been strange had he not done so. eleven different crafers had held possession of it since nicholas departed this life in king william iii.'s reign: eleven different crafers, all of whom had sought high and low for the fortune it was supposed to contain, or for some clue as to how the fortune of "fiftie thousand guineas" was to be obtained; and of those crafers many had torn their hair in vexation, and others had stamped their feet and cursed and sworn--or, perhaps i had better say, grumbled and growled--at finding nothing. of such irate descendants the last, the late lamented reginald, had, however, not been one. perhaps because he thought that if his ten predecessors could find no fortune in the house, he was not likely to do so; or perhaps because he was himself very comfortably off with his annuity and his pension from a government office, and his few thousands of invested money--which lieutenant crafer now came into--he bothered his head not at all about the chimera of the house at strand-on-the-green. certainly he cursed not over it, neither did he swear--unless it was at the damp from the river!--and, being bald, he had no hair to tear; and he never tapped panels nor prodded walls nor looked for secret doors in the house, contenting himself with letting young "reg" do all this when he came to stay with him. for the rest, and being a bachelor, he spent much time at his club; he took a faint interest in the curiosity which the legend of phips house excited in the minds of his friends, as well as of the waterside loafers of brentford, kew, mortlake, and all the immediate neighbourhood; he would even go so far as to invite people to stay with him and hunt about the house for themselves, when they were not enjoying the prospect from the windows of the market-gardens across the river. but of excitement in the legendary fortune, this bald-headed and comfortably situated ex-civil servant could get up not one jot; and when a burglar broke into the house, determined on finding, as he informed the barrister who defended him, "the blooming fortune if it was to be found," he went to see him at pentonville after his trial and told him he sincerely wished he had found it. thus, to him, the fortune of phips house was but an allegory or a myth, which he regarded but as a grown-up child regards a fairy-tale; and so, unbelieving in all that pertained to it, he passed away to kensal green and reginald the second ruled in his stead. but he, when he was a child--being of a romantic nature--did believe in the fortune of nicholas crafer; and when he was a man--being a sailor--had not lost all faith in the romance. whether that faith was justified, you who read on shall see. chapter ii. an old bit of history. who is he, especially of the london brood, who knows not strand-on-the-green? who knows not that it lies below the choice and savoury town of brentford and below kew bridge also, on the middlesex shore; that it is composed of a long, straggling row of houses, many of them old and most of them quaint, which are of all shapes, sizes, and uses? one there is in which once dwelt zoffany, the painter; hard by is a waterman's cottage, where the succulent winkle or shrimp may be purchased and eaten--the former with a pin supplied by the vendor; then comes a row of comfortable houses panelled and wainscotted within, then more tiny shops (with, interspersed all along the row, the genial public-house); then more private houses; and so on to phips house--old, quaint, gabled, and mullioned, panelled also, and wainscotted. in it are fireplaces in the corners of the rooms--sure proofs of the early charles ii. period; it has also carved wooden doors and carved balustrades and banisters; there are balconies to the front windows having bulging rails to fit the hoops of women belonging to long-forgotten days; and all about it is that genuine look of latter stuart times which may still be found in very many houses in this locality. "what did it appear like when nicholas first bought it?" mused reginald crafer to himself a few evenings later than the day he breakfasted at "the george." "even if it hasn't altered, its surroundings have." then he turned his eyes around and went on, gazing down the river meanwhile. "the 'white hart' at mortlake was there, i think--i have read of jacobites taking boat from its steps; and so was the duke of devonshire's and old chiswick beyond, with wicked barbara villiers standing at the window of her house and shrieking for the return of her lost youth and beauty. but not much else! no main drainage then, no horrible gasworks, no district railway bridges! it must have changed a good deal since nicholas hid his fabulous fortune, or the story of it, in the house--if it is fabulous." he put the key into the door and entered, musing still. "i wonder what nicholas did to pass his time? there was no 'packet hotel,' no 'indian queen,' no 'star and garter' then." these places are, it should be told, hostelries of more modern date. "there was not much for him to do to amuse himself," he went on. "he was too late to know kinde kit of kingston, who lived here; too early for the georgian revels at kew. yet he might have often seen william of orange (it was hard by here they attempted to assassinate him); he might have smoked and drunk at the 'three pidgeons,' at brentford, and known the daughter of shakespeare's brother-actor, lowin, who kept the place. who knows?" this young man, you see, was well acquainted with the history of the neighbourhood in which stood the house he had now inherited. it was not remarkable that he should be so. from his earliest childhood his fancy had been strongly taken by all the gossip connected with the property that must some day be his if his uncle remained unmarried, and never did he by haphazard see the names of brentford, kew, or strand-on-the-green printed but he studied every word in connection with them. thus, he was neither erudite nor pedantic, but only very interested in all that concerned the spot, and, therefore, very well informed about it. what he did not know was--in common with his forerunners--much about the mysterious nicholas crafer, who had contrived, by arousing the curiosity of his descendants through the medium of his strange will, to keep his memory very green. and not only the curiosity of his descendants, but also of most people brought into the slightest connection with the spot. the waterside hands, the barge-loaders and the lookers after private skiffs and gigs, the keepers of local refreshment-houses, whether "publics" or those chaste bowers which have upon their fronts the mystic legends, "tea and hot water _d_." (how can there be tea-drinking without hot water?); even the hands of the steamers passing up and down--of the _cardinal wolsey_ for hampton court (which place it reacheth not without arduous struggles and terrible delay), and the captains of the _bridegroom_ and the _wedding ring_ (graceful names well suited to riparian jaunts!)--all knew the legend of phips house as well as its new owner. so, too, did the dwellers on kew green, the respectable city men who resided on the kew gardens estate and were on familiar terms with the parson, and the city clerks who abode in great numbers in modern gunnersbury and modern chiswick. all knew, i say, the legend of phips house; all had heard of nicholas crafer, who was considered to have been a pirate and buccaneer; all--watermen, city men, and city clerks--were proud of their local history of nicholas and their--in a way--connection with him. what was, however, really known of him by the family--reduced now to reginald alone--what had filtered through the eleven generations with regard to him, was no more than this: he had been an officer in the navy of the commonwealth, being but a lad at that time, and serving under blake during its last two years of existence; then under charles ii. in the royal navy; and then under james ii., in whose first year of misrule he retired. many a fight did he engage in in those days, as was well known to his descendants: he was in the destruction of the spanish ships at santa cruz in , and at the defeat of van wassenaer by james, duke of york, in , in the "four days' fight" in , and he assisted in the capture of the _golden horse_ corsair in , and many other valiant deeds besides. yet were none of these martial feats so romantic as one other thing he did, or, rather two other things. he accompanied sir william phips, then plain captain phips, in both his expeditions for the fishing up of the hispaniola plate--the second attempt proving successful. now, as not all the world knows, but as his descendants of course knew, 'twas in the _algier rose_ that phips made his first attempt to get this plate in the reign of that most high and puissant prince, king charles ii., of ever-gracious memory. 'twas that great monarch who put at his disposal the _algier rose_, after listening to phips's tale in the embrasure of a window at whitehall--what time he was playing with the silky ears of a spaniel on his knee and leering at a young country lady fresh come to court--a tale narrating how the spanish plate ship, or carrack, was sunk off hispaniola--or, as we now call it, san domingo and hayti; and how he, phips, felt sure he could fish it up. but phips came back without the plate, and the august charles, being dead, could help him no more, nor would the saintly james, his successor, do so. phips was therefore now on what he would, perhaps, have called his "beam-ends," and so were some of his officers, including nicholas crafer; and on them he would doubtless have remained had not his good fortune thrown in his way at this moment a friendly patron. this was none other than christopher monk, second duke of albemarle, a nobleman who loved much the bottle--which fondness led to his death shortly afterwards, when governor of jamaica--and who also took great interest in stories of buried treasure, and listened to tales of such things with eagerness. to him, therefore, phips opened up the subject of the spanish plate. he swore that though he had failed once in finding it he would never fail again; and he so much impressed his drunken grace with his energy and sincerity that, at last, he sailed once more for the west indies as captain of a private ship commissioned to hunt for the plate, and with him nicholas sailed too as second officer. much money had been advanced for the quest; albemarle taking six shares, while three were allotted to phips, one to nicholas, and one between the other officers, and the remainder amongst those adventurer-merchants who had assisted in finding the necessary capital. all this is matter of history, which may be grubbed up by the student with little pains; so, too, is the fact that phips did come back with the plate, having gone through some considerable dangers and hardships to secure it. then the saintly king, james--who took a tenth as his royalty for granting the patent--was advised to seize all the plate on the ground that "one half of what had been in the spanish carrack was missing," and that, consequently, phips had secreted that half somewhere for his future use. but the king, contrary to what might have been expected of him, refused to believe such to be the case--perhaps because he had been a sailor himself once, and a good one, too!--and, instead, ordered the money to be divided and apportioned as had been at first arranged, and also, at the request of the graceless but goodhearted duke, knighted the captain, making him thereby sir william phips. so albemarle got his six shares, phips got his three, and nicholas his one: but as to how much each got considerable doubt has ever existed, since some historians say the plate realised only £ , , and some say £ , ; though it was thought that phips got £ , . but whatever it was it was sufficient to assist the duke in ruling royally over his colony (for a year, when the bottle finished him!), to support phips until the time came when he was made governor of new england, and to enable nicholas to buy his house at strand-on-the-green. but than this no more was known, except that nicholas lived some years after the making of his will, since he did not die until , when the smallpox carried him off. and of what he did in those years neither was anything more known, nor of how he and phips really got the treasure, what adventures they went through, or what hardships they then endured. yet, as will now be seen, the time was at last at hand when reginald crafer the second, twelfth in descent from nicholas, the so-called pirate and buccaneer, was to find out all that there was to be discovered about him. he was soon to learn the reason of nicholas's strange will and testament. chapter iii. the vanished mr. wargrave. now, in the letter of mr. bentham, the lawyer, to the present reginald, mention was made of "a scrap of paper once found," of which the young man knew. and that he did so know of it was most certain, as all who came after the fourth crafer in descent from nicholas had known, for it was in the time of that fourth crafer and in the first year of the reign of george iii. that it had been discovered. only, when it was discovered it told nothing, since on it were simply the words, "my friend mr. wargrave has the papers that will tell all.--nicholas crafer." nothing could very well have been more disheartening than this; and i fear that the fourth crafer in descent, whose christian name was david, must, when he discovered that paper, have been one of the family who indulged in hair (or wig) tearings and in strong language. he was himself a doctor--for the eleven descendants of nicholas had among them embraced all the professions and callings fit for gentlemen--having a fair practice in the neighbourhood of brentford and chiswick, and was consequently a stay-at-home man. and during his home-keeping life, while having a few alterations made to what was in those days called the saloon, or withdrawing room, he found the useless piece of paper. it was in the leaves of a wagener, always called by sailors a "waggoner" (a book of charts, or _routier_, much used by old navigators), that the scrap was discovered pasted--between the cover and the title-page. the book itself was in a little wooden cupboard, not a foot square, that had always been evidently regarded as a secret receptacle and hiding-place, since over and in front of the cupboard-doors, which had an antique lock to them, the wainscotting was capable of removal. yet, when last the wainscotting had been put over that cupboard, it was easy enough to perceive that the person who had so closed it up had intended it should not be opened again for some time, since the wood of the wainscot had been glued in some manner to the cupboard-door. then, in the passage of time between nicholas having closed up the cupboard and the epoch of david crafer arriving, when the builder's man lighted on it--which was a period of over fifty-five years--some stamped hangings of floss and velvet had been placed over the wainscot by another owner; so that at last the little cupboard with its contents was entirely hidden away. that nicholas could have ever intended his scrap of paper--if the information was really of any use in his own day, or in days near to his time--to be so lost, it was of course impossible to decide. doubtless he never dreamt that the panels would be covered up by the hangings, and perhaps thought that, therefore, sooner or later, some curious eye would observe that there was a difference in their size where they enclosed the cupboard. however, whatever he thought or did not think, the builder in making his alterations had unearthed the paper. only, as david crafer remarked, it was of no use to him now it was found and never would be; which was the truth, for when he in his turn went the way of those before him he had never so much as really and positively found out who mr. wargrave was. yet he had tried hard to do so in the time that was left him. knowing his ancestor to have been a sailor, every record bearing on the sailors of the past fifty years was searched by him or those employed by him, but there was no wargrave who had ever been heard of. the admiralty officials of those days swore no wargrave had ever served in the navy; whoever he was, they said, one thing was certain--he was not a king's officer. then david crafer got the idea that the man was, after all, a lawyer whom nicholas confided in; but again he found himself at bay. the records of dead-and-gone lawyers, even when they had been famous, were scanty enough in the early days of last century; when they had not been famous--above all, when they were only attorneys--those records scarcely existed at all. so, at last, david crafer gave up the law in despair. if there had ever been a wargrave in that profession, he, at least, could find out nothing about him. next, he tried the city, which was not a very large place in his own day, and had been smaller in the days of nicholas. yet it was difficult to glean any information of the city even in those times--especially since the information desired was nearer sixty than fifty years old. it is true there was, as far back as the period of nicholas crafer and the mysterious wargrave, a london directory (such useful volume having been first published in ), yet in the copies which he could obtain a sight of--which was done with difficulty, since reference books were not preserved with much care in those times, and those which he did see were neither consecutive nor in a perfect condition--he found no mention of the name of wargrave. so time went on, david crafer grew old and feeble, and had almost entirely desisted from the search for the name of wargrave--the man himself must, of course, have been dead for some decades--and had long since come to the conclusion that he would never find out anything about him. then, all at once, when visiting a friend in the city, and while turning over a volume in that friend's parlour, he lighted on the name and possibly the person. the book was entitled "a compleat guide to all persons who have any trade of concern within the city of london and parts adjacent;" and peering into it in a half-interested, half-hopeless, and half-hearted manner, old david saw the name of "samuel wargrave, silversmith and dealer, cornhill." moreover, he saw that the book containing the name was published in , the year when nicholas died. therefore he thought he had found his man, or, at least, had found the chance of gleaning some information about him. but, alas! the year was a long way off the year , when the paper was discovered in the little cupboard, and still longer off the year , at which period david had now arrived. moreover, david was, as has been said, grown old and feeble; "he did not know," he told himself that night as the coach took him back to strand-on-the-green, "if he cared overmuch now to go a-hunting for a dead man, or even for the knowledge that dead man might have possessed of nicholas crafer's treasure." yet, old as he was, being now turned seventy, he took the trouble to make some inquiries. he had a son, an officer, away serving in the american colonies, himself no longer a very young man; if he could find something more to leave him than the money for which he had sold his practice and his little savings and the old house to live in, why it would be well to do so. so, once more, armed with the knowledge that mr. wargrave had been a silversmith in cornhill, he began further inquiries--which resulted in nothing! at least in nothing very tangible, though they proved that the man who was in the "compleat guide" had once lived where he was stated to have done. the parish books to which david obtained access showed this; and they showed also that he must have been the tenant of the whole house--even though he let off part of it, as was likely enough--since he was rented at £ per annum, a good sum in those days even for a city house; but they told nothing further. no one could be unearthed who remembered wargrave the silversmith, no one who had ever heard of him. nor did his business appear to have survived him, since, in the half-year following his last payment of rates and taxes, the next occupant of the house was a mercer, who in his turn was followed by a coffee-house keeper, who, in david's own day--as he saw with his own eyes--was succeeded by a furniture dealer. and then, as the old man reflected, this mr. wargrave might not be, probably was not, the man who was nicholas's friend. at this period david crafer died; and ere his son, the officer in the american colonies, could be apprised of his death he too was dead, being shot through the heart in a skirmish with some indians near boston. confirmation being received of his death, the property passed to another crafer belonging to the elder branch, which was still existent in hampshire; and by the time he in his turn had passed away the finding of the scrap of paper in the wagener, and the hunt for mr. wargrave, were almost forgotten, if not entirely so. in fact, as generation continued to succeed generation, not only did these incidents become forgotten but the whole thing became almost a legend or a fairy-tale. one inheritor even went so far as to scoff at the will of nicholas, saying that he was a romantic old sea-dog who had taken this manner of keeping his memory before his descendants; while, as you have seen, the late reginald regarded the whole story with a pleasing indifference. but the present reginald, who was himself of a romantic tendency, could by no means regard the story in anything but the light of truth, and, if he ever indulged in any hopes at all, they were more that the mystery might be cleared up in his time than that the fortune of £ , should come to him. and it is because in his time the mystery was cleared up, that the whole story of what nicholas crafer did leave behind him "equivalint unto the summe of fiftie thousand guineas" can now be told. chapter iv. cazalet's bank. now this is the manner in which the mystery was at last cleared up in the time of reginald crafer, lieutenant, r.n. there was, and still is, in the neighbourhood that lies between chancery lane and cheapside, an ancient banking establishment that is as old as the bank of england itself--if not some years older--and that has, from its creation, been known as "cazalet's." yet there has been no cazalet in the firm for nigh upon a hundred years, but, instead, the partners--of whom there are now two--boast the ancient patronymic of jones. these joneses are descendants, on the female side, from the last cazalet, and in this way have become possessed of the old business; and it was when their father--for they are brothers--died, at almost the same time that reginald's uncle passed out of existence, that a change took place, which led in a roundabout way to the writing of this narrative of "the hispaniola plate." old mr. jones had, i say, been gathered to all the other joneses who had gone before him, and the two young messrs. jones--one aged forty-five and the other thirty-nine--decided that his decease marked a period in the existence of cazalet's when a change ought to be made. that change was to take a shape, however, in the first instance, which caused a vast number of the people who banked with them, as well as all their senior clerks--many of them nearly as old as the late jones himself--to shake their heads and to wonder why that late jones did not burst forth corporeally from his grave, or, at the very least, appear in the spirit, to forbid the desecration that was about to take place. for the old house was to be pulled down--ruthlessly sacrificed to the spirit of the times, and a bran-new one was to be built up in its place! "well," said the ancient chief cashier--who had been there boy and man since , and had grown old, and also tobacco-and-spirit-stained, during the evenings of a life spent in the service of cazalet's--when he received the first intimation of this terrible news, "if that's going to happen it's time i was off. lor' bless me! a new house! well, then, they'll require some new clerks. they don't want a wreck like me in such a fine new modern building as they're going to shove up." "why, mr. creech," said a much younger _employé_ of cazalet's, a youth who came in airily every morning from brixton, and was supposed to be the best lawn-tennis player in that suburb, "that's just why you ought to remain; you'll give the new show a fine old crusted air of respectability; you're a relic, you are, of the good old days. they'll never be able to do without you." but mr. creech only grunted, and, it being one o'clock in the day when this conversation took place, he lifted up the lid of his desk, took some sandwiches out of a paper packet, and, applying his lips to a small flask, diffused a genial aroma of sherry-and-water around him. yet, as he thus partook of his lunch, he wagged his head in a melancholy manner and thought how comfortable he had been for the best part of his life in the old, dingy, dirty-windowed house; it having been a standing rule of cazalet's that the windows were never to be cleaned, and rumour had it that they had not been touched since the house was built. that the firm "would never be able to do without him," as his cock-a-hoop junior had remarked, seemed, indeed, to be the case, and received exemplification there and then. for at that moment a bell rang in the inner sanctum where the brothers sat, and a moment afterwards the office-boy who had answered it told mr. creech that the "pardners wanted to see 'im;" whereon he gulped down a last drop of the sherry-and-water, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and went in to them, wondering "what was up now?" "sit down, creech, sit down," said the "pardners" together, "we want to have a talk with you about the new house." here creech grunted. "or rather," the elder one went on, "the old house;" whereon the cashier smiled, as much as to say that that was a far more congenial subject to him. then alfred, the elder brother, continued: "you know more about this house, creech, than anybody else." creech gave a grunt again here, which tailed off into a sigh. "why, bless my soul! you've been here five years longer than i've been in existence--there's no one else knows as much about us as you do." "i came here a boy of sixteen," said creech, looking at the clock on the wall as though it was a kind of calendar of his career, "and i'm sixty-five now. that makes forty-nine years. come easter, i've been here fifty years. it's a long while!" "it is a long while," said the younger partner, henry. "but you're all right, you know, creech. cazalet's look after those who have served them long and well. when you feel like retirement and a pension, you say so. only, i don't know how we shall get on without you. however, the retirement is a long way off yet, i hope. let us talk about the present." "what we want to know is this," said alfred, "and you're the person to tell us. what is there stored away down in the vaults below the strong room? we haven't been down there for years; not since we were boys and our father used to let us go down sometimes. there seemed to be only an awful lot of mouldering rubbish, and it'll all have to be gone over and either destroyed or fetched up before the builders go to work on the foundations." "so there is a lot of rubbish," replied creech, "though i haven't been down there myself for over twenty years. the last time i was down was when the prince o' wales went to return thanks at st. paul's. i remember it because i found a bottle of port wine on a ledge, and we drank his health as he went by. i told your father about it afterwards, and he said it must have been some of the waterloo port his father had had given him." "what else is there?" "a lot of rubbish," repeated creech. "there's several old boxes, most of them burst open, with leases, i should say, belonging to dead and gone customers of the bank, and a heap of broken old furniture that belonged upstairs when the family lived over the bank. i found a fine copper warming-pan, that mr. jones made me a present of; and i think there's an old spinet down there, and broken chairs and tables, and office stuff, and a basket full of broken glass and crockery, and that sort of thing." "humph!" said the elder brother. "leases, eh? we ought to look into those. if they're ours we ought to preserve them, and if they belonged to customers who have left descendants, they should be returned. they may still be of the greatest value. who can tell?" "_my_ wife," said the younger, "has been filling the new house at egerton gardens full of the most awful-looking gimcracks i ever saw. she'll want that spinet directly she hears of it, and if she could only find another warming-pan she'd hang it up in the bedroom passages as an ornament." "_my_ wife," said creech, "warms the beds with ours in the winter. it's a very good one, but i'll send it back if mrs. jones wants to decorate her landing." "no," said jones junior, "we'll say nothing about it. there's far too much rubbish in the house already. suppose," to his brother, "we go down into the vaults and have a look round." this was agreed to, so down they went, after creech had armed himself with a large paraffin candle and had rummaged out a bag full of keys of all sizes and shapes, while the elder jones carried with him the more modern and bright keys that opened the safes and strong room. this latter they were, of course, in the habit of visiting every day, but the trap door leading to the vaults below--which was in the floor of the strong room--testified to the truth of creech's assertion that it possibly had not been opened for twenty years. first of all, when the key was found, the lock was so rusty that it could not be turned until some oil had been brought, and then the door had stuck so that the two brothers--for creech was no good at this work--could hardly pull it up. however, at last they got it open, and then they descended the stone steps one by one. the place--as seen by the light of the candle--was, as the old cashier had described it, an _olla-podrida_ of all kinds of lumber. the hamper of broken glass and crockery was there, so was the spinet, looking very antique and somewhat mouldy--a thing not to be wondered at, seeing that the jones family had not lived over the bank during the present century. the broken chairs, stools, and tables were all piled in a corner--in another stood the boxes, some of them burst open, of which creech had spoken. and around and about the vaults there pervaded the damp atmosphere which such places always have. the cashier had brought a second candle in his pocket, which he now lit, and by this additional light they saw all that there was to be seen. "a lease of a farm in yorkshire," said alfred, taking up the first one that lay loose on the top of the first box, whose rusted padlock came off it, nails and all, as they touched the lid, "called shrievalls, from the earl of despare to antony jones. lor' bless me! why, shrievalls has been in our family for any amount of time, and i never heard of the earl. i suppose we bought it afterwards. that's no use to anyone. what's this? a covenant of the earl of despare to pay an annuity to ambrose hawkins for the remainder of his life, made in the year ; that covenant has expired! that's no use to any one, either. a bundle of acceptances by sir marmaduke flitch to peter jones--our great-grandfather. flitch! flitch! no knowledge of him either. an authority from annabella proctor to pay to her brother, so long as he holds his peace--humph!--ha!--well, that's an old family scandal--we needn't read that just now. transfer of a lease from mr. stringer, son of sir thomas stringer, a judge of the king's bench, to mr. samuel wargrave, late silversmith and jeweller, of cornhill, now of enfield, dated . i suppose one or the other of them was a customer of the bank." "then it was wargrave!" exclaimed creech. "i've seen that name in some of our old books. at least, i think i have. let me see--wargrave. where _have_ i seen it? i know it somehow." "it can't matter," said the younger jones. "there has been no wargrave on our books for a long while." "a bundle of letters," went on the elder, taking them up, "from the lady henrietta belville to bartholomew skelton, esquire, at the university of leyden, with one beginning, 'my dear and only love,--since my 'usband is away to york'--oh, dear! dear! we needn't read that now." "i should think not," said the younger brother. "the skelton family still banks with us. we had better send the letter back intact. bankers should keep secrets as well as lawyers." "wargrave," mumbled creech to himself, as he leaned against an antique office-stool minus a leg. "wargrave! where have i heard the name?" "an account book with no name in it but a date. and written therein, 'on behalf of the earl of mar, his expedition.' humph! ha! well, we had a good many jacobites among our old customers. what's this? a glove with a lot of tarnished silver fringe about it, a woman's--these are romantic finds!--a bunch of withered flowers, almost dust, and a little box----" "that's it," exclaimed creech, "a box with the name of wargrave on it. that's it!" "on the contrary, creech, there is nothing on it; but, inside, a paper with written on that, and badly spelt, too--'his hair. cut from his head by a true friend after his death at the battle of clifton moor.'" "no, no," said creech, "i don't mean that box. i mean there is a box somewhere in this vault--a small one, with the name of wargrave on it." "there are a good many boxes with names on them," said one of the brothers, glancing round; "and i doubt if any speak more pathetically of the past than this one with its wisp of withered hair and its label." but creech was hunting about in the rubbish by now, and at last, exclaiming, "that's the one i mean," seized on a small iron box a foot square and brought it to where the partners and candles were. "that," he said, as he plumped it down on the spinet, which emitted a rusty groan from its long-disused keys as he did so, "is the box i mean. i remember seeing it years and years ago. look at what's written on it." in faded ink, brownish red now instead of black, on paper a dirty slate colour instead of white, were the words:-- this box is to be given to any descendant or representative of lieutenant nicholas crafer who is alive at my death. to be given at once after, but not before.--samuel wargrave. _nota bene_.--i do believe it is very important. _january_, . "and," exclaimed the younger brother, "being so very important it has lain here for over years. we _have_ been assiduous for our customers." "but why," said the elder brother, "when you saw it years ago, creech, was nothing done? why did not you, or my father, find out some wargrave or some crafer? there must be some left." "your father said he would make some inquiries; but i don't know whether he ever did or not. at any rate, it went clean out of my head. i was just off on my holidays, i remember, when i happened to see it; and, to tell you the truth, i never thought any more about it from that day to this. and i shouldn't have done so now if it hadn't been for that transfer you read out a minute ago." * * * * * * a fortnight later the box was in reginald crafer's possession, with an apology from messrs. cazalet and co. for the long period in which it had lain unattended to in their hands. they had discovered him by a reference to the suburban directory, after a search through the london and also several county directories, and mr. bentham's name had been quite enough to assure messrs. cazalet and co. that he was the rightful person to whom to entrust the box. the lock--a most excellent one, considering when it was made--had to be burst open, for no key could be found to fit it, and then reginald saw what were its contents. first, there was a piece of paper on which was written:-- i do feel so sure that mr. wargrave will carry out my instructions after my death that i leave this pretious legacy to him in all good faith, and to you my descendant to whom it may after come, with all my love and good wishes; and so i say, may what you find herein prosper you. n. c. then, in a neat roll, tied up with black ribbon, was a vast number of sheets of paper covered with writing, some of it being very neat, some of it very ungainly, with many words scored out and others inserted, and also many misspelt, and some not spelt twice alike. and reginald crafer, after an early meal, sat himself down to a perusal of those closely written sheets which had been at last unearthed after lying in the vaults of cazalet's bank so long. this is what they told him. _the history of nicholas crafer, lieutenant, and the search for the hispaniola plate, with all that occurred during that search and followed after it. as told by him_. chapter v. captain william phips. there will be but little need that i ask pardon of him or her who receives this paper from mr. wargrave, since if he who does so shall have courage, or she who receives it have an honest friend to depend upon, they will have no reason to reproach me for what i have done. the finding of it will tell him or her how they shall become possessed of a fortune; and those who have gone before them and after me can never know how they have missed it. that it is not well for any crafer to find this paper near unto my time is the reason why, with great care and pains, i have so bestowed it in my friend's hand, and, better is it that i shall have laid in grave a hundred years or more before it is discovered, than that any coming close to me should light upon it. now, you who so receive my writing shall understand the reason whereof i say this. because it partly relateth to a large amount of plate, of jewels, of gold and coins, all of which did indeed belong to the spanish carrack which my commander, phips, digged or rather fished up, from the bottom of the sea where it had lain forty-four years, or, as some did aver, fifty, and because it was the rightful property of him, of the duke of albemarle who had a share therein, of king james who had a tenth, and of many others. for some of this money and valuables was all stolen by a thief who was ever a rogue in grain, and what is true enough is, that there was a many suspicions when the finders came back to london that one half of this treasure was missing. as indeed some was, tho' not stolen by him whom the accusers pointed at. for phips, who was an honest-born new england boy--one of twenty-six children--who had been bred a shepherd and had then become a sailor, was indeed no thief, but ever an honest man, as james declared, who was himself none too honest. yet, as i say, when the ship with the treasure came back to england, there was a cry that one half was missing, that phips had left me and others behind to hide away that half, and that, indeed, we were all thieves--tho' we were none, or only one of us, and that was neither phips nor i. now, if so be that the house which i called after my dear and honoured friend, and superior in rank tho' not in birth--for the crafers have ever been gentlemen of repute and of good descent from an ancient family in hampshire--be not burned down or falleth not down from age, and our line dieth not out, and the paper telling where these writings are be not doomed to be found by a stranger, then must a crafer be the one to read them. and he will find strange matter in it who doth so read. for in the long winter evenings which are before me--since i have begun to write this narrative in the month of november, , and trust to finish it with the incoming of the new century--i do propose to tell you who may open the packet all that befel our voyages to find the contents of the hispaniola plate ship, which was sunken off "the boylers," a reef of shoals a few leagues off of the island of aiitti, as the natives call it; but known generally by its spanish name of san domingo. and being but a poor penman i mean to divide my story into heads, thusly. first, i mean to tell you of my acquaintance with phips at the time he approached the king, i mean charles; then of how he sailed in the _algier rose_ for hispaniola, and of two mutinies. then, how after four years, we again sailed in the duke's ship, or _furie_, and what happened to us in the fishing up of the plate. but more than all this is to tell you of shameful villainies and thievings that took place, and of how the chief villain was frustrated so that not he but another was to be benefited. and who, think you, my descendant whom i know not, is that other? you may think phips, you might imagine myself or the duke, you might suppose some of the other adventurers. yet 'tis not so. 'tis no less an one than _you--you, yourself_. that is if you have a manly heart, or, being a woman, a man to help you. for as i have writ--and if i repeat myself you must forgive me, for we sailors who fought battles almost weekly had but little enough time to study the art of writing; and you will find your reward by reading this--it is you who are to benefit. you are to have the fortune which the thief was possessed of, tho' not what he stole. therefore, having made this introduction, i proceed to tell my tale. and as i have, although a sailor, been ever a god-fearing man, i pray that it shall be a crafer who receives this from where i have disposed of it. for it was i who gained it all from him, and tho' i shall never see you who come after me, you may well suppose that i would sooner, far sooner, that the fortune came to one of my own flesh and blood than to one no way allied to me. so i begin. 'twas in the year of our lord , and during the visit of prince george,[ ] son of the elector of hanover, that i made the friendship of phips, then captain of a private ship hailing from boston. i was ashore from the royal yacht that had brought the prince over, and, insomuch as i now sought another ship, had gone into lodgings in spring gardens, both because of the freshness of the air over that of the city and its nearness to the admiralty office. and it was at this latter, where there had creeped up again a good habit of the admirals of meeting their officers frequently, that i encountered william phips. a brave, topping gentleman he was, too,--for all he was a puritan, tho', i think, ever in his mind a sailor first--then thirty-two years of age, fine and big and well dressed. now, as a colonist and but a private sailor man, phips was inferior to all of us who sailed for the king, yet he won soon upon us. he was brought in by matthew aylmer, then holding the rank of commander, though destined for much higher things, as i have lived to see; and soon we were told what his business was. this was no less than to get the king to give him a ship in which he had a mind to go treasure-hunting. yet this was not a vision neither, for says he to us, "gentlemen, i know what i speak of and 'tis not foolishness. in hispaniola--where i have been many a time--there is a place called porto de la plata. surely some of you king's officers have heard tell of it!" two or three amongst us nodded of our heads with assent at this, and he continued:-- "well gentlemen, do you know why 'tis so termed? no? then will i tell you. forty-four, or as some say fifty years agone, there came ashore at that spot--which then had no name at all--a shipwrecked crew in an open boat, in which there was no room for them to lie down, so stuffed full was it of plate." here one or two of us laughed, and some seemed much aroused, while phips continued:-- "they were saved from the great spanish plate ship which had sunk some leagues out when striking on a reef, and what they brought with them was all that they could save. this was well known all over the island shortly afterwards, and is spoken of now, even unto this day." he had told this tale before to aylmer, as afterwards i learned from him, and a few moments later he told it to the king, being taken over to him by his friend and introduced. now, it is not for me to write down the grievous faults and failings of charles--he is gone before his judge!--but i will say this, that, with all his errors, he had a mind beyond the common. therefore he harkened unto phips, and later on he called his brother james, whose faults were greater than his, but a good sailor, and asked him what he thought on't? james was at once all for it and hot upon the idea, for it seemed that it was not the first time he had heard of the sunken plate ship, and he was taken with phips--as, indeed, were all who met with him. so, to make what would be a tedious story short, phips received a commission from the king to go out in command of the _algier rose_, with orders to find the wreck and bring all away in her if he could. and it fell out to my great good fortune that i went too. to my good fortune as it came later, tho' not then, for it was not on this journey that we found the treasure, as you shall soon know. yet we hoped to find it, and so i was glad to go. it was in the "dog" tavern at westminster, where many naval men did, and still do, resort, that i got my appointment to the _algier rose_, phips, who had taken a fancy to me, swearing that he would not sail without me. so there i made interest with several from the admiralty, who would come to the "dog" for half a pint of mulled sack, or a dram of brandy, and at last received my commission as first lieutenant to the frigate. a better ship never swam than she, carrying eighteen guns and ninety-five men, and when we took her out early in ' i can tell you that the brave hearts on board of her were joyful. in it was when we dropped down on the tide, with a lusty cheer or two from the king's ships lying in the river off bugsby's hole--for they knew our intent--and another from the old man-of-war, the _jerzy_, in which i had served as a young lieutenant; and so away out to sea with light canvas all in aloft, and just a single reef in our tops'ls, and off we went to find the great hispaniola wreck. and so i put down my pen awhile. chapter vi. the beginning of a mutiny. now it happened that at the "dog" tavern one day there came in, when we were sitting there, an astrologer, or geomancer, as 'tis called--namely, a caster of figures--who marking out phips (perhaps because of his uncommon and striking appearance) seized upon him to tell his fortune, which he, having ever a mind turned towards fun, was well disposed enough to. so the cheat, as i thought him to be--though found afterwards he spake true--catching holt upon phips's hand, looked long and fixedly at it, after which he said that much money should be found by him. "in very truth," called out phips, while all around did laugh, "'tis that i go to seek, friend; nor, since every drawer in this tavern and ragamuffin 'twixt here and charing cross knows as much, art thou so wondrous a necromancer? go to! your divinations are not worth a piece." "yet, stay," said the caster, speaking up boldly to him--"stay. what you go to seek you shall not find." "ha!" exclaimed phips, looking at him. "not find it?" "nay, not yet. at present you are thirty-two years of age; it wants five ere you shall get that you seek. then shall you obtain your desires." "tis well," exclaimed phips, "and therefore must i stay the five years where i go, for find it i will. yet, harkee, friend, put not such reports about in this neighbourhood, or i will slit thy nose for thee. i am a captain of a king's ship now"--as indeed he was, for his commission was made out--"and a good ship too. i want not to lose it through the chatter of any knave." "moreover," went on the geomancer, taking no more heed of what he said than tho' he had never spoken--"moreover, this is not all." and as he spake he pricked with a pin a number of little dots on the table, where the drink stood. "this is not all. you shall do more." "ay," exclaimed phips, "i shall! maybe i shall have thee whipped. yet continue." "you shall rule over a large country, though never a king, and you shall die"---- "stop there," called out phips, "and say no more. what thou hast promised is enough. as for my death, when it comes, it comes; that also is enough. now go." and as he spake he picked out from a handful of elephant and other guineas, as well as some silver-pieces, a crown, and tossed it to the fellow, who, pouching it, went off. yet, afterwards, when we were well on the road to hispaniola, phips would talk with me on this astrologer, and would discuss much his promises. "for," said he, "there have been many such who have told truths. my mother had a paper written down by one which worked out so truly year by year, that at last she flung it in the fire, saying she would no more of it. and a mighty marvellous thing it was! year by year she bore my father a child for twenty-six years, and the astrologer's paper had so stated, as well as what the sex of the child should be, yearly. and also did it state that i--her ninth--should some day command a king's ship, which led to my always aspiring to do so; and as i now do the _algier rose_"--and he stamped on the poop-house where we stood, as though to confirm his words. by this time it had arrived that we had passed thro' the gulph stream and were well on our way for hispaniola, so that 'twas very hot. sharks passed near us often, but gave us good heart, since never did they follow us. portugee admirals sailed by on the water, their pretty forms dotting the tranquil waves--'tis ever tranquil in these regions--like flowers, and the voyage was a good one. of our crew also there was nought to complain, the ninety-five men who composed it being all sailors who well knew, their work. 'twould have been strange had they not known it! many of them had been fighting the french and the dutch for the length of their lifetimes; but 'specially had they fought the french, which seems to be what an englishman is ordained, for; and they had lived all those lifetimes on the sea. yet, as you shall learn ere long, they were soon to give us much trouble, and, later, to give us more. now, as i have writ, and as, indeed, the geomancer rightly forecast, it was not to be that the treasure should be found by those who sailed in the _algier rose_. therefore should i not have written down here this our first cruise in search of that treasure, had it not been that what happened on that voyage has much to do with what happened on the second one, when we did indeed find all. to do, that is to say, with the stealing of a great portion of the treasure by a thief, and how it came about that he could so steal it. but i wander from what should be a plain record, and will now proceed. when once we were safe anchored in balsamo bay, which is near unto st. jago, and not far from the reef called by us the "boylers," but by the spaniards and portygees the "bajo"--wanderers on the seas who have late been there tell me it is now called the bajo de la plata,--we set to work at once; but our efforts met with no success. of divers we had procured two, one a portygee mulatto, the other an african negro--the largest and most hideous brute in the form of man that i had ever set my eyes upon. day by day we sent them down, and day by day they returned, swearing that they could find nothing of the plate ship--no, not so much as a spar or a block. at first we thought they lied, as, indeed, we ever did, until at last the wreck was found, and then we knew they had spoken truth; for, having floated off, as we once thought, she was three cables--but you shall see. thus we worked, fishing ever and catching nothing, for two years, in which time we endured many hardships. to begin with, the spaniards harassed us much, in spite of our not having been at war with them since ' , and endeavoured to drive us away from the neighbourhood of the reef. but them we defied, and, on their sending out at last a bomb-ketch to attack us, we first of all spoke it fair, and, on that being no good, blew it out of the water; whereon we heard no more of them, perhaps because just now they were busy with the french, who had for the last six or seven years gotten holt of the part called aiitti, and wanted the rest. but now trouble bred amongst us, as, alas! it will do in any number or body of men who, after long seeking for a thing and finding it not, grow moody and heartsore. for the men began to mutter between themselves and to say that we should never find the sunken ship, and that, since we had a fine frigate of our own, well armed and manned, why not put it to some purpose, and go pirating and buccaneering in the southern seas? the first to hear of this was the carpenter, a straightforward honest man of good grit; the last, of course, was the captain. but being myself forewarned by this man, whose name was hanway, i soon went and spake to the captain, telling him what was going forward and below; and marvellous calm he was when he did hear it. being evening, he was sitting in his cabin under the poop, and, for coolness, had divested himself of his coat and waistcoat, and was refreshing of himself with a drink of rum sangaree. then, when he had passed me over a glass and i had told my tale of what the carpenter had repeated to me, says he, mighty easy:-- "they wish me to go a-pirating in the southern seas, do they? and how do they mean to sound me, crafer?" "they are going to put it to you first," says i; "then, if you deny them, they mean to seize the ship." "so, so," replied he, "that is their intention! well, we will see. what are they at now?" "standing about the forepart and in the waist," said i, "talking to each other and doubtless concocting their precious schemes. what is best to be done?" "action," says he, "action, crafer;" and he made for the cabin door that opened on to the quarterdeck. but here i exclaimed, "what will you do? you have neither coat nor waistcoat, pistol nor hanger; will you go forth and beard mutineers in such a garb as this?" "ay! will i," he says, looking for all the world like a great lion--"ay! will i. and you shall see. in half an hour there will be no mutineers in the _algier rose_." and then, as i regarded his face--on which there was a dreadful look--and observed his great muscular form, i thought what a grand man he was and of what a good breed these new englanders were. and a few minutes later i had reason for my opinion. now phips had ever treated his men like brothers, never setting them to work he would not put his own hand to, never cursing or swearing at them as so many of the dandy captains and soldier captains--who, good lord! in those days were sent to command ships at sea--used to do; but ever kind and gentle to them, besides helping them with a turn at their labour. therefore, as you may think, i was rightly astonished when, on our going on deck, his manner was all changed, so that the william phips i knew was no longer to be perceived. "ho! there, you men," says he, in a voice that neither i nor they had ever heard before; "ho, there, you skulking dogs, what are you doing forward? come here, all on you, to the quarterdeck. come here, i say." and with that he stood in his shirtsleeves, looking for them to come forward. very startled, they did so; coming slow, however, so that phips hurried them by bawling, "faster, faster, damn you, or the bos'un shall hase you." which words from him made them all to look out of the tail of their eyes, but yet to come faster. so that, ere long, he had got half a dozen of 'em ranged up in front of him and a dozen more behind, looking on, moody and dark, as though afraid that whatever project they had formed was nipt in the bud. "now," says he with another oath--which never did i expect to hear from him, a new england puritan and ever a god-fearing man--"now, who's captain of this king's ship, the _algier rose_, eh? speak out." "you are," they muttered, surlily enough. "louder," says he, "louder. you hain't lost your voices, have you? you can make the devil's own noise when you're singing and bellowing your profane ballads in the fo'castle. speak up!" with still another oath. "who's captain of this ship, i say?" "you are," they answered louder, yet looking black enough. "very well," says he. "now listen to me, you lubbers, and listen well." chapter vii. the ending of it. "now," he went on, "you're talking about mutiny, i hear, and pirating in the southern seas. well, who's going to begin the mutiny, eh? which of you? let him come forward so that i can catch holt of him, and string him up to the fore-top-sail yard with my own hand. come, which of you is it, to commence with?" and again he glared terrible fierce at them. then says one of them--poor fool!--"we shall never find no plate here; what's the good, captain, of our stopping here?" in a moment that man was upon his back with the blood pouring from his face, the captain having felled him like a butcher fells an ox, and "fling him overboard to the sharks," says he. "quick, or some more of you go, too. i'll have no mutineers here and no talk of the southern seas. over with him, i say!" but not one of them all moved. "what," he roared, "it is a mutiny, then! therefore, let's see the means to quell it. crafer, call up all the officers. and now, you hounds, you who don't want to go to the southern seas, stand on the larboard side. jump, skip, damn you! all who are on the starboard side when i have counted ten shall be treated as mutineers. now." some did jump and skip in verity, hopping over to the larboard as quick as ever they could; for his wrath was awful to see; while for those who moved slower--though they, too, meant to go--the punishment was terrible. he sprung amongst them like a lion, as i have said; he struck and beat them with his fists, bruising and blackening of their faces; he kicked them like dogs, until every man who had come up to the quarter deck was over on to the larboard side--some of them bellowing with pain, some trying to staunch their bleeding wounds, some leaning over the bow muttering curses in their agony. meanwhile the officers had all come up. "over with them to the sharks," he cried. "over! over! send other men forward to help bind them and fling them forth. and this brute first," said he, pointing to the man he had first knocked down. "mercy! mercy!" they screamed now, while the other men forward, who were not disaffected, or, at least, had not shown their disaffection, came hurrying aft at the double whistles of the bo'sun and the bo'sun's mate. "mercy! mercy! kill us, but give us not to the sharks. mercy!" i whispered to him, "surely you will not do this thing, sir?" and was eased by a glance from him and a word to the effect that he meant not to do so, yet to scare them, especially the first one, or leader, so that they should have had their bellies full of mutiny; and, meanwhile, the poor piteous wretches were howling and weeping, some calling on their god and some on their mothers, while all the while their comrades bound them tight. "now," says he, and at his words there went up a shriek more dreadful than before, "now, fling over some jerked pork whereby the sharks may be attracted. 'twill be a fitting prelude to a better meal." thereby they roared and roared again until, in very truth, i wonder the spanish did not hear them on land--and "over with the lines ready to lower those dogs," says he, "and, meantime, i will go and wash their filthy blood off my hands;" and away he went into his cabin. then, we who remained on deck saw to the pork being thrown over, what time i found opportunity of telling my officers that he might not yet carry out his dread sentence--and, presently, we saw the most horrid sight that any sailor is ever doomed to see. we perceived in the dim grey of the coming night that terrible heave of the water that the shark maketh, we saw the ripple caused by many fins, we even saw plain enough the evil, squinting, and upturned eyes looking for more prey. they had come for their suppers and wanted it--they wanted their victims; and the victims, gasping and sweating with fear, saw them as well as we did and knew their wants. one fell down on deck and died with very fright all in his cords as he was bound, the others shuddered and shrieked again as phips's voice was heard from the poop, and then he came forth once more. "are the sharks here?" he roared, "are they come?" and as he spoke his eye lighted on him who had fallen dead, and he turned him over with his foot to see if he were truly so. "a pretty mutineer," then says he, "a pretty mutineer! well, he is dead, so over with him--he assoils his majesty's deck; over with him." in a minute that dead body was cast over the bows and went splashing into the sea. then we saw the waves all tumbled and tossed as though a seaquake had taken place, or a whale had disturbed them in its passage; we saw the ripples made by the fins of the brute down there, and the silver glisten of those fins--we saw the water tinge from green to pale pink and then to red, until, at last, the dead man's blood had overmastered the sea's natural colour. meanwhile still the rebellious ones shouted and bawled; while some who were older cursed and blasphemed, another wept, and still another--the first one whom phips had beat down--tried, all bound as he was, to rush at him and strike him with his manacled hands, or bite at him. but now the captain paused, though ever with his eye on this fellow, and spake and said: "well, my hearts, how like you mutineering against the king's grace, eh? and against me who stand here for the king? 'tis profitable, is it not--far more so than hunting for the plate-ship, with three good meals of jerked pork and drink into you every day? what say you?" all but that mad and furious one shouted still for mercy--he standing apart glowering--and clasped their hands and said that, if he would but spare them, never more would they think of aught but their duty to the king and him--"only, only," they wailed, "not the sharks, not the sharks!" "well," says he, at last, "since you are but beaten hounds and know it, it shall not be the sharks this time--only, henceforth, beware! for if ever again one of you so much as mutter a word of disaffection, so surely shall your blood tinge the waters round as the blood of that mutineer tinges it now. you hear?" they said they heard, and that there was no fear that ever would they offend more, no, not if the _algier rose_ stayed there a century, so then phips spake again, while 'twas noticed by us officers that never did he include the first man--whose name was brooks--in his address, nor did he cast his eyes once towards him now. "so be it," he said, "and so it must be. for remember ever, 'tis not against me you offend and rebel, who am but a servant like yourselves, and was, a few short years ago, but a poor sailor also like yourselves; but against the king and the country, who, sending us here, believe and confide in us. therefore, to mutiny is to commit treason, and for both of these the punishment is death. but, since this is your first offending, i spare you death--yet must you be punished. therefore, now listen. until the frigate touches english waters once again, or until we strike soundings in the channel, all of you rebels must take a double night-watch, at sea or anchor, and no drink must you have whatsoever, nor ever any leave. are you content, or have you a better mind for the sharks?" poor, wretched fools! what could they say but that they were content--and so they were unbound and set free. then, turning to brooks, and with those fierce and terrible eyes upon him, he continued-- "for you, you are but as a savage beast, and unrepentant. therefore, i still mean to fling you to the sharks, or to, perhaps, maroon you. yet will i decide nothing in haste; the sharks," he said, very grim, "are always there, so, too, are many islands on which to cast you alone. i will take time to think how to punish you." can it be conceived that this idiot and wretch, even at such a moment of peril as this, should be still so hardened as to defy phips! yet so he did. first he gnashed his teeth at the captain, and then he swore a great oath that, were he free, he would kill him. and, though he muttered this under his lips, yet phips heard him. for a moment he paused, looking fixedly at him, then he called up some of the men who had retreated forward, and said: "lower him over to the sharks." and all of us, officers and men, did shudder as we heard the order. "only," he went on, "since still am i merciful, remembering that i am naught but the servant of the king, lower him by degrees two feet at a time. then, if by the period he has reached the water's edge he sues not for pardon, let the sharks have him;" saying which he turned on his heel and entered again his cabin. it was done, amidst the curses of brooks and his fightings to be free. longwise, he was lowered, face downwards, and, although twice the lines were lengthened so that, from being twelve feet above the waters he was at last but eight, still only would he revile the king, the captain, and all. "thou fool," i called down to him, as, indeed did his shipmates, "recant, and sue for pardon." but still he would not, raving ever. "lower," i commanded to the men--"two feet more;" and by two feet so much nearer was he to the beasts below, who now began to disturb the water once again and cause it to heave, and to show their fins and hideous eyes. still he would not and so, with another order, down he went to four feet from the surface. and now the water was all ruffled and bubbling as though boiling, or as 'tis when a child throws a cake to the trouts in a fishpond, and the eyes of the man looking down into the sea were looking into the eyes of the horrid things gazing up. yet still, though he was now silent, he would not call for mercy. the sweat was standing at this time on all our brows and, in very truth, our hearts were softened towards him--for if a villain he was a brave one--and almost did my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, for the time had come for a fresh order that would bring him to two feet. so i paused, hoping he would plead, yet he did not. "brooks," i called now, very low, for i wished to spare the man, and wanted not phips to hear me. "brooks, this is, indeed, your very last occasion. will you yield?" _he answered not_. then, as i was about, perforce, to do my duty, the water heaved and surged more than before, and, leaping up from the sea as leaps the grayling from the pool to take the fly, there came two great monstrous sharks, their loathsome jaws extended so that the yellow teeth were quite visible, they evidently driven beyond endurance by the sight of the tempting bait so near. in that instant all shuddered and drew back, daring not to look below, the sweat poured out all over us now, and from the side there came a fearful, piercing scream of agony and the voice of brooks calling, "in god's mercy draw me up, oh! draw me up. i am penitent. pity! pity!" the sharks in their frenzied leap had struck against each other and, instead of seizing their victim, had but hurled each other back into the sea, and thus he was spared. so we drew him up, and with this ended the first mutiny of the _algier rose_. chapter viii. the second mutiny. and now i commence again. two years more had passed, and still we had not found the plate. very disheartened were we all by now, you may be sure, perhaps the one who kept himself best being the captain, who still hearkened after the astrologer's prophecy. yet this, while still he did so, he chided himself for, saying that it became not a puritan of new england to believe in any such things. "for," says he, "in my colony they are now burning witches and wizards, geomancers, astrologers, and those which pretend to be cabala with the stars, to say nought of quack-salvers and saltim-bancoes, so that i am but a degenerate son. yet not of my mother neither; for she, as i have told you, nick"--as now he called me--"bought an astrologer's pricked paper and found it come true. still, wrong as i do, i cannot but think the caster was right. then, if so, must we wait another year; for by that time i shall have arrived at my thirty-seventh." that he would have waited had not the king--but you shall hear. we had now arrived, as i have said, at our fourth year out, and at this time phips, who had one moment, as i have also writ, the idea of staying until his thirty-seventh year, and at another the mind to take the frigate home and confess to the king that he had failed, decided to have the ship's bottom cleaned, or, as 'tis called, breamed. therefore, for this purpose we moved her somewhat away from the "boylers" to a little island, of which there is a multitude hereabout--for we would not go to the mainland for fear of a broil with the spaniards--and there careened her. now, a sweet little isle this was as any one might wish to see--though very small, and on the charts tho' not the maps,--all covered over with a small forest in which grew the palm, the juniper, the caramite and acajou, as well as good fruits, such as limes, toronias, citrons, and lemons. also, too, there were here good streams of fair fresh water all running about, at which one might stoop to lave themselves or to drink their fill. ofttimes we had been over there before, especially to fetch in our boats the fresh water and the limes, for since our tubs of beer[ ] had long since run dry this was our only beverage. moreover, here we came in boats when we took our spells of leave, and, lying down in the little forest, would try to forget the tropic heat of where we had now been stationed so long, and would send our minds shooting back to memories of cool english lanes all shotted with the sweet may and the eglantine, of our dear grey skies and our pleasant wealds. but now we were come in the ship to work and not to take our ease, for breaming is, as sailors know, no lightsome task. yet, too, there was a pleasant relaxation even in this, for, since the frigate was not liveable when careened over, all of us were bestowed ashore. so, too, were the remaining stores, of which in most things we still had a plenty, and so, too, were the great guns, they being placed around our encampment as though a fort. the ship herself was hove down by the side of a rock which stretched out from the land a little way; and, so that we could come at her and go to and fro with greater ease, we had constructed a bridge made of a plank leading from the summit of the rock to the shore, just above high water. 'twas not long to the beginning of the rock from the land, being some thirty feet, but once on the rock itself one had to walk some hundred feet to reach where the frigate was. now phips, as ever, setting a good example, had with his own great strong hands helped at hauling the ship over, and ashore he had assisted in cutting down trees to make our encampment palisadoes, our cabin roofs and wooden walls, and so forth. never did he spare himself, and thus endeavoured to keep harmony and good will among all, officers and men alike. as to the mutiny, 'twas now forgot, or at least we thought so. brooks, who had been the ringleader in it, seemed quite broken since the episode with the sharks, and, perhaps, also a little with the treatment since accorded him. never had the captain relaxed on him--and but little on the others, tho' somewhat--and never had he been permitted so much as an hour's leave or a sup of the beer while the casks lasted, or to take more than one watch and one dog watch below in the twenty-four hours. i say it broke him, yet i liked not the look to be seen sometimes on his face; and 'twas more than once that i bid the captain observe him well, as also i did the subaltern officers. but phips only laughed, saying: "tush, nick! we have scotched the villain; have no fear; what can he do? moreover, is not old hanway a watch dog that never looses his eye from him? and, as he knows, his friends the sharks are ever near." so the memory of the mutiny slumbered or awakened but little, and time went on and the breaming of the ship was a'most finished. we got her clean at last, by a plentiful kindling of furze and oil and faggots, so as to melt the old pitch about her, and were rapidly getting her re-pitched and caulked, coated and stuffed, so that when we went back to fish for another year she would be so clean and neat that, when we upped anchor, we should be ready for home at once. also we had righted the ship again so that some few could live in her, and soon we meant to bring back the stores, great guns and other things. but now we were to learn over what a masked mine we had been slumbering, and we were to see once more how the hand of providence was always guarding us, as, i thank god, it has ever done where i have been concerned. there were seven of us in the frigate one most glorious sunday afternoon--namely, the captain and myself and five men, when, sitting on the poop under an awning, he and i saw hanway being supported between two others from the little wood to the plank that reached the shore. the man seemed sick enough by the way he dragged himself along between those two, and we, wondering what ailed him, went up on to the rock and so on to the hither side of the plank, and the captain hailed to know what was the mischief with him? "sir," calls back a sailor, one of those leading him, "he is took very ill with a colic and wishes to go aboard to get a dram and rest. will you permit his coming?" "and welcome," says phips. "but how will it be for him to pass over the plank?" "we will come fore and aft of him, sir," says the man, "so he shall not fall." receiving permission to do this, they started to reach the rock; and by the foremost man walking backwards--which a sailor can do as easily as a cat--and the other propping him up behind, they gotten him along the plank. "what ails you, man?" says the captain kindly to him then, when he was there, but hanway only groaned and placed his hand on his stomach, so that, sending the sailors back to the isle, we took him between us, and so got him into the captain's saloon. "a dram of brandy," says phips, "is the thing for you, my man," and with that he makes to call for his servant; when, to our extreme astonishment, hanway puts up his hand to stop him, and stands up, as straight and well as ever he was. "what foolishness is this?" asks phips, with his brow all clouded; "what mean you, hanway, by this conduct?" "hush," says he, glancing round the cabin. "hush! it means--there is no one by, i trust!--it means _mutiny_ again, captain. that's what it means!" "does it so?" says he, all calm in a moment, though his eye wandered to his sword and pistols hanging over the table--"does it so? and when and how, hanway?" "to-night," says the carpenter; "and from the isle. i have heard it all, though they know not i have heard one word. see, captain, it was thus. i was lying in the grass under a bush but an hour ago, when there comes that most dreadful wretch, brooks, with half a score more, and sits himself down on the other syd, behind a clump of cabbage-palms that grew next the bush. and so i heard all. says he, 'now, lads, to-night is our occasion, or never. to-night i must have my account with phips and crafer, so that there shall be a new captain and a new commander to the _algier rose!_" "and who," asks phips, "are to succeed us, hanway?" "brooks, it seems, is to be captain in your place, sir," goes on the carpenter, "and the master-at-arms, taylor, is to be commander. for the rest i know not; but, sir, let me tell you that, excepting yourself and the officers, myself and the bos'un, all are mutineers, and they mean to get the frigate if they can and go a-buccaneering to the south seas, as has been ever their intent since we could not fish up the plate." "tis well, very well," says phips, "but how will they do it? can you tell us that?" "brooks gives them this scheme, sir," continues hanway. "'to-night, my hearts,' said he to them, 'there is no moon. therefore, what easier than to take the ship? we can outnumber them quite easy--the big guns are all ashore, there is not so much as a carronade in her. so, too, are the small arms, the powder and ball; yet, since we must not injure the _algier rose_, we must not fire into her, nor need we do so. for,' says he, 'at about dawn, or a little before, we can all pass the plank and reach the rock, when we can descend on the ship and put every one to death that is not for us. and i,' says he, 'will particularly kill phips, whom i do hate most deadly.'" phips smiled and nodded his head pleasantly at this, for all the world as though he had heard the dearest news, and then he says, "and, how much more, hanway?" "only this, sir," goes on the carpenter, "that brooks knows not what will be the distribution aboard and ashore of the men, and fears therefore that he may get brought into the ship for the night--while the officers may be ashore with the other mutineers." "he need have no fear," says the captain, very sinister; "when the muster is called it shall be arranged to suit him to his exact pleasure. now, hanway, go you back ashore, mingle freely with them, and trust to me and mr. crafer." then, when the carpenter had returned ashore, saying he had had a dram and his pains were eased, phips and i held a long consultation together, and our plan was formed. how it worked you shall soon read. but ere i go on i must rest my hand. chapter ix. and the preparations against it. it was an hour before sunset that the order was usually given to the bos'un to pipe all hands to muster, and on this fair sabbath evening you may be sure it failed not. now, since so much of the ship's company was ashore it was the habit for the few in her to go also ashore, so that the whole roll might be called. therefore, on this occasion we in the frigate went by the rock and plank to land, leaving the vessel alone save but for two men on watch, and at once began the muster. the officers were partly divided, some to remain on the isle, some to be in the frigate, i being of the former, the captain of the latter. now this plan had been communicated to all officers previous to the muster; since phips had asked two or three of them to supper with him--of whom i was not one, but had, instead, gone on shore--and there he had divulged the whole wicked story. there was not any more danger to those who were ashore than to those in the ship, since hanway had gathered from some source that the officers on land were not to be despatched until the ship herself was taken, and it was thought she could be easier taken and with less noise than they could be murdered. so that was to be done. moreover, likewise had hanway learned that brooks hoped some of the mutineers would be told off into the ship, whereby they might lie in wait to spring out and assist their brother-scoundrels when they boarded her, and this, on hearing, phips again said should be done. "for," says he, "since they would have some of their comrades in the frigate, they shall be obliged. only, they will not know that when the rounds are gone those choice companions will be prisoners all, with bilboes on their feet and gags in their mouths." and now, all arrangements being made, ashore we went to call this muster. first i called the officers, naming for the shore myself, a lieutenant, and the master's mate; for the ship, the captain, the second lieutenant, another mate, and the two gentlemen-midshipmen we carried (we had three, but one was drowned coming out); these being, when they joined the ship, little lads of eight and nine years, scarce better than babes, but now grown big boys. then, this done, i passed to the others, bringing the carpenter and his mate into the frigate, and likewise the bos'un and his. next brooks was called for the shore with most of the known mutineers, excepting only some others of their gang and companions in guilt into the ship. and when this was done there was to be observed, by those who looked sharply, a glance pass between them. so 'twas arranged, and all was well for the foiling of these villains. and thus, having well concerted our plans, we all went to our various stations, the captain walking back to the frigate with his complement, and i in command of the shore party. and now must i relate all that happened both with them--which i gathered afterwards--and with us on land, which i saw. but first for the ship. at sunset, which comes fast in these parts, the captain, after the rounds, stationed in his cabin on each side of the door the bo'sun--who was enormous in size--and the carpenter, hanway; then, sending for each of the known mutineers one by one into the cabin, he had them knocked on the head as they came in, bilboes put on their feet, and they carried down amongst the ballast. with them he put a good guard, who had orders that should they cry out--tho' if they did none could have heard them on the isle--they should instantly be despatched; so they were safe and secure, and henceforth he had but to deal with those ashore. next he sent for the midshipmen, who, coming into his cabin, he demanded of them which was the lightest in weight; for, said he, "i have work for one of you young lads to-night that shall make a mate of you if you do well." now, of these boys--one named fanshawe, the other caldwell (who as i now write commands the _lizard_, of twenty-four guns, he having been promoted out of the _richmond_)--the latter was by far the lighter, he being very lean and spare. therefore, to him says phips: "my boy, you must do a good service to-night, so i hope you have a strong heart;" to which the lad said he hoped indeed he had; tho', later on, he told me that at that moment his thoughts went flying off to home and to his mother, who had cryed so bitterly when she brought him down to go to sea. "well," says phips, "now this you have to do. we will get from hanway a bolt--such as those of the big guns--and what you must perform is this. to-night at the darkest you shall creep from the rock to the plank, and so to the middle of it, and, when there, you will first fix a staple under the board, then through that you will run the bolt. next, where its head will enter you must make a mortise--another staple will do very well--and then when all is fixed you shall, with a bradawl and a gimlet, so bore the board that t'will yield to any weight when the bolt is unshotted. you understand, my lad?" the boy's eyes sparkled, for he was stout of heart, and he answered readily that he comprehended; and so phips goes on: "then, when all this is done, to the eye of the bolt you shall attach a line and so bring it back under the plank to the further end of the rock, where some one or other shall take it from you. now, my boy, there is little of danger to you if you are careful. and, remember, first fix your staple, then your bolt, and, last of all, pierce and bore the plank and do it well, and so shall you earn your higher rank. now go, sleep until we wake you." the lad told us afterwards he slept not in his hammock at all, but rather repeated to himself his instructions again and again, so as to be perfect; and thus the time wore on, and, at last, there was that thick inky darkness that comes in tropic nights. then phips summoned him, repeated to him once more his orders, and the boy prepared to speed on his work. "i cannot, my little lad," said phips, "go with you, nor send the men; the plank would not bear our big forms when bored, and they might see us. otherwise, and if i could do it, i would not send one of such tender years as thou art. so be brave, and so fare-ye-well and a speedy return." he laid his great hand on the boy's shoulder as he spake, and bid him again "god speed;" and then the child went forth, his little heart quite brave and cheerful. only, when he was gone, they found he had left upon his sea-chest, writ large, the place where his mother lived and to where she might be addressed if he came back no more; and also he had writ a little prayer to phips that he would speak well of him to her, and say that he died in his duty. that he might so die all knew; and from his writing they learned he knew it, too. for there were many ways to it. the mutineers would doubtless shoot him if they saw him on the plank, and so begin their wicked work at once, or the plank might fall under him, or he fall off it in the dark, when it was well possible--the water being deep enough--that the sharks should have him. so he went forth, and, of those who saw him go, one or two crept along the rock after him to watch and see if all was well, and they observed, and told afterwards, how he never faltered in his task. through the darkness of that black night he creeped upon the plank, making no noise, and, laying himself flat out upon it, went to work. once those behind said they heard the muffled sound of the screws as he fixed tight the staples--though those who knew not what was a-doing might have thought 'twas but the creaking of the board! and once they heard him let fall a screw into the water that plumped in with a little splash. but that was all, and presently by his breathing they heard him coming back. he had done his work--the springe was set! he had done that work well, too, only, so wrought upon was his mind, that, when he once more stood upon the deck of the frigate, he fainted, and fell into the captain's arms as the latter spake approvingly to him. now, therefore, there was nought for them on the ship to do but to wait the coming of the dawn--tho' all in her hoped the mutineers might make their attack ere then. for, if they came when the dayspring was about, it was possible they might perceive the piercings of the plank: while, if they came earlier, they could see nought. and so, i say, the night went on and the stars above began to pale--the great southern cross turned from her deep crimson to a white, and the dews from the little island sent forth innumerable scents and perfumes. meanwhile, nought could be heard from the shore by those in the ship, for all was still as death; while on the water round the rock a gentle splash alone was heard, telling that those watchers of it, the sharks, were looking ever for some prey. and, by now, several of the ship's company, headed by phips, had creeped along the rock towards where the plank was, and, heavily armed, and hidden as much as possible, were waiting to see what movement was forthcoming and when the attack was to be made. chapter x. and how it was ended. and now must i return to the party on shore, with which i was. the watch being set--which throughout the night i took very good care should be composed of those whom i had reason to consider the worst of the mutineers--we, the officers, turned into the hut that had been constructed and set apart for all of that rank. of course we knew what the intention of the captain was as to the sawing of the plank, and, indeed, were quite cognizant of when young caldwell was at work on it, though none of the rebels were so. moreover, when i had reason to suppose he was at his business, i, affecting a merciful disposition towards them which i did not in any way feel, went out to where they lay and told the men on watch to turn in awhile, as i and one of the lieutenants would take the look out for a spell. now this i had not planned with the captain previously, it being an afterthought, yet i took credit to myself for its being an excellent one. for see what good came of it! firstly, it removed the mutinous watch from the open where they might have seen or heard the lad, since the encampment lay but a hundred yards or so inland from the beach; and, secondly, it played the game, as they say, into their hands. for they minded not for us, the officers, to be on the alert at this early part of the night, but would, as i knew, rather have it so, for they wanted us asleep in the latter part when they meant to set about their dirty work. and it lulled them, as after-events showed, into false security; for, seeing that we treated them so kindly, they never dreamed we had one idea of all their treachery. and to further this idea in their minds, after eight bells had struck from the frigate, and a fresh watch set, i went in to the men in their huts, and seeing brooks sitting up and looking very wideawake, i said to him--though in my mind i would sooner have thrust my sword through his heart: "brooks," i said, "we are all sleepy now; therefore we will turn in. and since there is scarce any necessity for caution here--none being able to attack this little isle of ours--relieve your watch somewhat." "ay, ay, sir," says brooks, while yet by the oil flame i could see the devil's light shining in his wicked eye. "ay, ay, sir. what shall i do?" "let most of the watch rest themselves. what need that all should labour? we fear nought here. leave but two men on watch--the frigate is herself a guard-ship--and let us take some repose. only, as i and the other officers are very sleepy, call us not until the day watch; let us not be disturbed." "i'll warrant you, sir," said brooks, and positively the fiend hid his head in the shadow so that i might not see the grin on his face, though i saw it well enough, be sure. "i'll warrant you, sir, you shall not be troubled." whereon i bade him good night, and so back to our hut. "now," says i to my comrades when i entered, "all is indeed well. we have but to keep quiet, and these wretches will go to destruction their own way. for, see now, they must be caught between two fires! once they are on the plank, or some of them, they will be in the water the next moment if caldwell has but done his work well. and even though he has not, what matters? from the rock they will be shot down, and from the shore by us, while we have this hut for a fort if needed. so now, while we pretend sleep, let us be watchful and await the good time." then, very quietly, we saw to our arms, the bite of our swords and the priming of our pistols. also had we in the hut some musketoons, very good ones, each loaded with five ounces of iron, which had been brought in from the ship when careened and placed here to guard against rust, as well as some peteraroes loaded with old broken iron and rusty nails, which could well be fired through the doorway. and now we three put out our light, wishing each other "good night" somewhat loudly, so that if any were creeping or crawling about they could not but hear, and at intervals of our long vigil we would snore, sometimes in concert, sometimes singly, so as more to deceive them. and in this manner passed the night, we hearing and counting all the bells as they struck in the ship. at last there was a stir. soft as was the grass around, we could hear stealthy footfalls; presently in the open window-frame--purposely left open by us the better to deceive these villains--we saw a face look in on us and again withdrawn, we heard a whispered talk outside, and then they went away. we knew the attack was about to begin. so, when the footsteps had retreated and we imagined that by now they must have gotten down to the beach (and, indeed, silently as they went, we could hear the pebbles crack and rustle beneath their bare feet), slowly i rose and glanced out from the side of the window. but only to draw back my head on the instant, for there, they not being such fools as might have been supposed, were two of the mutineers on guard, one on each side of the window. at present, 'twas evident they thought not that we were awake, since each was leaning with his back to the walls of the hut gazing after his companions, and i had time to ponder on what i must do. first, i had the intelligence to say nought to either of my comrades, while for sign i could give none, seeing that, as yet, the day was not come--though afar off a saffron tinge in the sky heralded its near approach--and then i took time to reflect. now, had there been but one man he had been soon despatched, for i could from the window have run him through, or cut his throat ere he could make any noise. but with two it was different. so, i say, i pondered deep. yet, soon, this was what i resolved to do. i would go again to the window and then would remain there, a pistol in each hand, and, the moment i heard any scuffle or noise from the neighbourhood of the rock, would fire into their heads. meanwhile, should they discover that we were awake, yet would i do the same thing--and the noise would but serve to warn our friends over there. so now i crept to the lieutenant and the master's mate, and, touching them gently in the dark, put my fingers on each of their lips, and then away again to the window. so i was there, ready for them, for though they had each in their hands a musketoon there was nought to fear. ere they could lift them the brains would be out, they would be gone--but at this moment up came the sun as it had been promising, and in a moment all was flooded with light. and at the same moment they saw me and gave a shout at seeing my face close to them, and the two pistols to their ears. poor wretches! all rebels and mutineers as they were, what gain had they in their evil? ere the shout had finished they were dead outside the hut; even dead before the report had ceased to ring. yet i had spoilt nothing by my haste, for as now the daylight poured over all i saw that the attack on the rock had begun, and, a moment afterwards, we had rushed pell mell from the hut to assist in taking the mutineers in the flank. and, now, i will write down exactly how our position was. on the rock there stood phips with all his men by his side, on the plank were two or three of the mutineers with brooks at their head, and smiling quite gay was phips, as he called out. "and 'good morning' to you, captain brooks, as i hear you are to be to-day. my compliments to you, captain brooks, for a better frigate than the _algier_----" "to, hell with your compliments," howled back brooks, "and your scoffs. yet we mean to have the ship, anyway; so come on. we are eighty to ten so you must yield." "must i, indeed," says phips, "well, we will see for that." meanwhile i had perceived what was my office, and so, going back with the lieutenant and the master's mate--all unperceived by the mutineers, who had been quite engrossed wyth those on the rock, so that they saw not our sally forth--we dragged out the peteraroes and a little old lombard we had, very good for throwing a big shot, and lighting our fuse we gave them a rousing broadside and did good execution. the lombard crashed down four of them, while the peteraroes did great slaughter, and we gave them a volley from the musketoons, and so in amongst them with our cutlashes and very busy. meantime phips and his party were firing into them from the rock--though not at brooks and those on the plank, which was shaking under their weight as they advanced; and now the captain shouted to him, "come on, captain brooks, come on and take command of your ship. come on, i say." and on brooks went, hurling oaths like a tempest howling across the sea, and followed by the others; while, now and again, he yelled out, "we are betrayed; we are betrayed," and so got fair into the middle of the plank. and then he saw, but too late, the snare in which he had been taken. for it bent so under their weight and also gave so that, looking down, he saw it was all bored and pierced so as to be by now almost apart, and kept up only by the great gun-bolt. "back! back!" he screamed then to the others. "back! see, oh god! see, the plank gives, it yields, we are undone!" and then from him there came a worse cry, a thrilling blood-curdling shout, for he saw what was below him. the sharks which do infest all parts of these waters had come again--attracted, doubtless, by the blood of the killed and wounded and the dead bodies in the water, which already they were busy at; and with them and fighting them for the prey, were fierce crocodiles--or, as they are called by the spanish, the allagartos. "for god's sake, back!" he howled, "back, i say!" but those behind could not turn back because we were there, and so they met their doom. with one more scoff and jeer phips and a sailor pulled at the line, the great gun-bolt came forth from the mortise, or staple--the boy had done well his work overnight!--the plank broke with a crash, and down they went. and as they went we saw the great snouts of the crocodiles come at them, and tear them below with a snapping dreadful to hear, we saw the sharks heave over on their sides to take their prey, we heard one wild and awful yell from each of these villains, and all was over with them. as for the others who were not killed, they threw down their arms and implored mercy, and so were bound and carried away for the time. and in this way ended the second and last mutiny in the _algier rose_, wherefore i will again rest awhile. chapter xi. they have to desist. now, by this time phips was within a month of his thirty-sixth year, and we had been out on our fishing expedition four years almost, it being the end now of of our lord. "so," says phips, "another month will see me into my thirty-seventh, and then, nick, we must have the plate." "whereby you mean to say," i observed, "that you do, indeed, believe in that jack pudding's prophecy that at that time you shall find it. yet i should scarce have thought, sir, that so stalwart a sailor as you would have hearkened much to such as he." "i hearkened to him," replied he, "because i am a sailor, and therefore, like unto you, nick, and all of us, given unto believing in auguries. yet, reflect also on what other reasons i have. first, there was my dear mother, whose doings were most rightly foretold; and next was there the vow i always made that, some day, i would command a king's ship. well, that have i done, though without finding the plate-carrack, and therefore i am positive that when my thirty-sixth year is past i shall do so." "i trust you may," says i, "yet in four years it has not been done; how, therefore, shall it now be done in one?" "we will fish in other waters," says he; "we will try another side of the reef. we will have it, nick--have it somehow." yet, as you who read this paper shall see, it was not until his thirty-seventh yeare came--proving thereby, alas! that wizards and astrologers, who are the children of the devil, can speak truth sometimes--that it was to be taken from where it had lain for its forty-four or fifty years. meanwhile i must perforce write down all that happened before that time. to begin, therefore, the mutiny was, as you have seen, over, and so rooted up and crushed down also were the men that it was impossible there could be another. of killed there were thirty-one, including brooks and the man who was to have had my place, and there was something like twenty-five prisoners; the remainder of the crew, though but few, being tried men and loyal to us. some of the dead we took into the middle of the beach and buried, while the sharks and crocodiles provided the graves for the others without any trouble to us; and then, all being done that was necessary, we left this sweet little harbour of ours, which, had it not been stained by the horrid mutiny and its outcome, we should have turned away from with regret. but, considering what had happened there, we went back to the blazing sea quite joyfully to begin once more our search. for those mutineering ruffians who were not killed, it would have been easier to them if they had been. they worked now under the boiling tropic sun in chains, their hands alone being free wherewith to assist the divers; they were given no more food than would actually keep them alive and enable them to work; they had but one watch off during the twenty-four hours, and over them ever was an officer with a loaded pistol to his hand, ready to shoot them down. and, worse than this, whenever we should return to spithead there they would be hanged to the yard-arm, as they would have been ere this to the yard-arm of the _algier rose_, had they not been wanted to work the ship home when her time came to go. verily, they had gained little by their wicked foolishness! so in this way the weeks slipped by and still we found no plate, yet was phips firm. his commission was for five years, which would carry him well into that thirty-seventh year for which he longed so, and that commission he fully meant to serve, when, lo! there happened a thing that for a time changed all his plans, though not for long, owing to providence, as you shall read. one morning when the day broke, the lookout descried, some two leagues from us and our reef, a great frigate sailing very free and bearing down towards us, while to our joy we saw that she carried our own dear english colours. now, in all the three years and a half that had passed, or nearly four, no ship of our own country had come anywhere near us, although often enough had we thought we saw them pass afar, as, indeed, they must have done on their way to some of the west indie islands. yet, as i say, none had come to us, and so we had no news from the world without. but that this frigate was making for us there could be now no doubt; already, she was so near that she was shortening her sail, and, not long afterwards, she fired a salute, which we returned with joyous hearts. then she hove-to, and signalled to us that the captain was to go aboard. you may be sure that he went very willingly, the ship proving to be the _guinea_, and an old commonwealth frigate i knew very well, and a good sailer; and brave enough did phips look as he took his seat in his boat, all adorned in his best scarlet coat and his great wig; "for," says he, "hot as the morning is, and will be hotter, i will not go to greet a brother-captain foully dressed." that we in the _algier rose_ waited impatiently enough for the news you may be sure, and, since 'twas long a-coming, that impatience became very great. indeed, 'twas not till night was near at hand that we saw the boat coming back to us, while at the same time we saw the great frigate's topsayl fill, and observed her slowly gather way and steer towards the west. then, a while later, the captain came aboard, and, sending for me into his cabin, he said, while i noticed that his face was grave and sad: "nick, we have to give up the search; we shall not get the plate now. the frigate was, as doubtless you made out, the _guinea_, on her way to jamaica to relieve the _constant warwick_, and brought me my orders to go home." "but," said i, "the commission was for five years; they are not yet expired." "nay," says he, "that matters not. the king is dead, and has been so for a year, and the duke of york has succeeded him. and he believes not in putting the ships of his navy to treasure hunts, deeming such things better for private adventurers. moreover, he says the _algier rose_ can do better service at home against his enemies--of which the captain of the _guinea_ says he has a many--than in fishing for plate. so, to-morrow, nick, we will take in water from the island, and away to england." "'tis pity," says i, "a many pities. yet the king's orders must be obey'd. and the plate--i wonder who will get that?" "i shall," said phips sharply, "and you, nick, if you will follow me. for the very moment i give up my command of this ship, i shall seek out those private adventurers of whom the new king speaks. i would pawn my life the thing is there, and i will have it. am i a man to be thwarted?" indeed, he was no such a man--only, as i whispered to him, he must, if still he believed in his geomancer, be very sharp. he would be in his thirty-seventh year by the time he set foot on english ground again. "ay, ay," says he, while he took a great drink from his cup and passed it to me, "and so i shall, but before the thirty-seventh year is gone, i shall be back again--and you shall be with me, nick, an' you will." for myself 'twas very easy to say i would come. if james was king now, then he would have for officers of his ships all those who had served him when he was a sailor, and never had i been one of those. moreover, i had no interest with either edward russell--who is now as i write earl of orford--or with rooke, both of whom were like to be the king's great seamen; so that there was little enough likelihood that i should get another ship. there were just now hundreds of worthy sailors waiting for appointments, and i had no better chance than, if as good as, they. also was i gone my time, having been now at sea since , when i went a boy of eight, so that i was nigh forty years of age, and was never like now to be a captain, being but a plain sailor and no gentleman courtier or page of honour. had i been that and not known the maintruck from the keel, then, perhaps, might i have gotten a ship at twenty. but enough of this, only i had a mind to come out with phips if he came again as an adventurer; and that we should see when we got home. a week later we had wooded and watered from our isle, and the wind being fair away we went, while the last piece of counsel we received came from the beastly great negro of whom i have writ before. this creature's name was juan, he having been born at san domingo city, a spanish slave, which he no longer was, and as we had always thought, though we were never convinced thereof, had egged on brooks and the others to mutiny by telling of them that we were a-fishing in the wrong pool--as anglers at home say--but that if they could take the frigate from phips, whom he hated, he could show them where the plate really was. so now he shouted to us from his periaga, as 'tis called there, "_adios, don phipo, adios_. berry sorie, massa, you no find platy, but you look not in proper place. you ever come back again, which not berry like, you send for juan and pay him better, he show you many tings if he not show it someone else firsty. _adios, don phipo, adios cada uno_, i hope you berry nice cruise to englishy waters. _adios_," and with that he hoisted his little sail and was gone. phips scowled at him first and then burst out a-laughing, while one of the sailors flung a musket ball at him, and so we sailed away disappointed men. "a very nice cruise" it was not our good fortune to have, for we were teased and pestered with contrary winds and storms all the way. then we got into the horse latitudes--where the spanish used to throw their horses overboard on their way to the indie islands, to lighten their ships so that they could move in the calm--or called by some the doldrums--and here we lay for some weeks. there we suffered much in every way. the sea is here like glass, there is not a wind to stir a sa'l nor to refresh the panting men, and the air is like a furnace. moreover, here the seams of a ship will yawn, the meat become rotten, and the hoops shrink away off the casks so that they burst and leak, letting out the water--of beer we had naturally none left. the sea, too, looks lyke oil and not water, while the setting of the sun gives one the idea that the whole world is a-fire. great crimson fleaks of flames blaze all across the heavens, then tinges of saffron, green, and pink shoot up, and then comes the grey darkness, as though 'twas the smoke after the fire. and while we who were free all this time suffered so, 'twas far worse and more terrible with the condemned mutineers, for, being down in the ballast, since there was nought for them to do on deck while we lay still, their agonies from the heat were insufferable. five of them did die--even though at the last they were fetched above--and so 'twas better for them, since had they lived there was nought but the hanging at spithead before them. thus, when at last we got a wind which took us home--and a roaring, tearing wind indeed it was, that sent us often under bare poles with fear every moment that our crazy frigate with her open seams must go to the bottom--we worked very short-handed. yet home at last we did get, looking like scarecrows in a field, and so yellow that those who knew us said that, if we had found no silver, at least we had brought a plenty of gold on our faces. yet right glad were we to see old england again after so long, and to sleep once more in a good english bed. chapter xii the bark "furie." now i will not write down much as to how we found the state of things on our return, yet somewhat must i say. to begin with--all of which was very bad for our hopes of getting another ship--we found the king a dreadful declared papist and with most of the nation against him. moreover, he was passing daily laws and regulations for the oppression of the protestants, so that he was much hated, and all the world wagged its head and said that so extreme a tyrant must ruin england unless a change came. and some there were who even went so far as to say he had poisoned king charles--though this was never proved, and concerns not my history, to which i now return. when the _algier rose_ was paid off (which was done in a way shameful to our navy--namely, by giving us but half of what was due and the other half in promises, which were not fulfilled until the next king's reign, and then only with difficulty to us) phips and i, who went to live together near the strand, saw very soon that we should get no other king's ship to go back to hispaniola. his ministers laughed at us when we sounded them; one old nobleman asking us if we thought his majesty had not enough to do with his vessels, without sending them on any such fool's errand as this? and, indeed, he was right, for things were thickening round james, we being come to the year . people had not forgot the monmouth rebellion and its brutalities, of which we heard now for the first time; they hated the king's doings and his mass in the chapel, and although he had a great big army at hounslow this year--which phips and i rode down to see--all the soldiers had an aversion to his religion, excepting the few papists among them. on the sea he was not very busy just now, and no fighting done since we went away; yet it was ever thought that trouble would come--as indeed it did, though not in the way expected. so, therefore, as now you will see who read, we had to turn our thoughts to other ways, and at once we began to look about for some proprietors who would send us forth to look again for the hispaniola plate. at first we had no success. indeed, in the city, to which we resorted, the project was treated by the merchants and goldsmiths with extreme contempt, they jeering at us; while one of the latter told us he had gotten together more plate than he desired, and would cheerfully sell us some. but this was not our business, so we looked again. and now, at last, we heard of one who we thought would do for us--our knowledge of him being produced and brought to us by a friend who knew what we were seeking for. and the person to whom he pointed was christopher monk, the second duke of albemarle. this nobleman had in no ways ever done aught to carry on the great reputation of his father; but, instead, he had, on coming into a most enormous fortune at that father's death, twenty years ago, given himself up to loose and vicious courses, as well as having a ravenous liking for drink. yet one fancy he had which improved on this, and was very good for us and our desires--viz., he loved to hear of treasure-finds, of the sacking of cities for plunder: such as those of drake in the indies in the great queen's reign, or of sir henry morgan, the buccaneer who sacked panama and porto bello, wherefore the late king gave him the government of jamaica, which albemarle was afterwards himself to have; and, above all, of the digging up of hidden wealth. so to him, having obtained a letter introducing us, away went phips and i to see what might be done. he listened very attentively to us and, when phips said he did in truth believe there was three hundred thousand pounds under the water, he sighed and said he would he could have some of it, for he wanted money badly. this we could well believe; for though his father left him so vast a fortune, he was a heavy gambler, and his duchess--a half-witted creature, granddaughter of the duke of newcastle, to whom he was married before his dying father, as he lay on his bed--had ravaged him with her extravagance and debts. so says phips to him: "then, your grace, if you will have it you shall. find me but a ship well fitted and this very year--no other--it shall be yours. it is there, i know; i have much evidence it is; and though i have fished in the wrong place hitherto, yet now will i find it. and, as i say, it is my year." "why, sir," said the duke, "why this year more than any other?" yet this phips would not tell him--confiding in me afterwards that, though he believed in the astrologer, he was ashamed of his belief. so, then, next says the duke: "but why seek not the spanish, or the french, who have now gotten possession of the north of hispaniola, if not all of the island, for this plate? 'tis worth their while, if 'tis worth mine." "your grace," says phips, "it is not possible they should seek for it. ever and always are they fighting together for possession, when not massacring of the natives--of whom three millions have been slain since columbus's day--and truly they have neither time nor inclination, even if they believe, which all do not. then, for private adventurers, there are none among them who can or will risk the money; so that if any find it it must be an englishman." in this way, and with many other arguments and proofs, did phips press it on the duke--particularly leaning on the boat that came ashore, after the wreck of the carrack, full of plate; so that, at last, he said he would think well upon it, and bade us come again in a week's time. "for," says he, "of myself i cannot now do it, though i could very well once"--and here he sighed--"when i had my father's fortune. but now i am no longer rich and am even petitioning the king for employment, and have the promise of jamaica. still i will see among my friends, and i will ask the king's permission. he, you know, must have a tenth and adventure nothing." "let his majesty have it," says phips, "and then i'll warrant your grace there shall be enough to satisfy all." "sir, you are very sanguine," says the duke. "but there, come in a week and you shall hear." so we made our bow and left him. now, i have so much yet to write of the finding of the plate and then all that followed, as well as to tell you, who may read, how you shall also find a fortune if you will seek, that i must waste no space, but crowd on with my story. so i will briefly write down that, when the week was past, we went to the duke's again, and he coming up to us--a little flustered with his morning tankard, as i thought, though no ways drunk--takes phips by the hand and then me, and says he: "gentlemen, i think it is done, and we must send you out. so now listen to what i have attempted." and with that he bade his serving-men begone and see he was not interrupted till he called. then he went on: "i have gotten," he said, "a ship for you, not so good as a king's ship, yet well found, of a good burthen. the crew you shall pick up yourselves--god knows there are many sailors now in london wanting bread! then, as for repayment, you and captain crafer"--for so he called me, though i was no captain--"must be willing to be paid by return, or what the merchants call a 'per centum.' now, are you willing to do this?" we said we were very willing provided we were put to no expense for provisions or furnishing of the ship, which we could not do, and he said that matter should be arranged, as well as the payment of the sailors, which must be part now and part hereafter, when we returned, out of the proceeds. so after many more particulars we agreed to all, and we left the duke to go into the city and see the merchants, and then to attend to fitting of the ship. she was, we found, when we got to her in limehouse pool, after we had spoken with the merchants very satisfactory, a good bluff-bowed bark named the _furie_, who had been employed in the slave trade, about which we did not inquire too curiously, knowing very well what uses the guinea merchants put such ships to. suffice it, therefore, if i say she was large and roomy for her size, with many good cabins, especially on the deck, a good main cabin, and a clear fo'castle. and so we set to work to pick up a crew. now, as the duke had truly said, there was no want of sailors just now; for, firstly, we were not at war with any power; and, secondly, the men went in but slowly to the king's ships of war because their pay was so uncertain; and, thirdly, because all were against him, hating the papists he had gotten both into the navy and army, and hating him too, as well as his papist queen, who had passed off a false heir on the nation, as they said; and also his beastly mistress, sedley, now made lady dorchester. so when we went about the taverns of blackwall and wapping, we soon picked up a likely crew enough, and when we told what our cruise was for--namely, to get up a treasure-ship--they were all eager to come. therefore, at last we did get more offers than we could well accept, seeing that we wanted but twenty, and so made a good pick. of them some were old king's men who had seen much service like myself, two had taken part in sir robert holme's "bonefire," when he burnt up the dutch ships, some more had fought under prince rupert--as i did--when he beat de ruyter, others had fought against selvagees' armada, and all were of much experience. now, therefore, we had but to victual the bark and to put in our beer and water, and all was ready; so to it we went, the merchants behaving very generously. yet, since phips felt sure--owing to his belief in his precious geomancer, who was doubtless hanged for a knave ere now--that we should not be gone a year, we by no means overloaded her. still, all was very well; we went out with a plenty of beef and pork, a gallon of beer a man every day for some months, with, after that, some spirituous liquors, and with good pease and oatmeal as well as bread. also, which was of equal need, we had good arms, taking with us new cutlashes and muskets, several cannon, including two thirty-two-pound ones and a twenty-four, some pierriers, or swivel-guns, very useful, and several others. and, since this time we hoped not to fail, we took all applications for diving, such as a bell, pumps, bladders for the head, and so forth, such as was used at mull for fishing up part of the spanish armada in the beginning of the late king's reign. and so we went away again to find, as you shall read, the hispaniola plate. but to set it down baldly and to say only that we did so find it, would be to give no help to those who shall come after me, whensoever that shall be. therefore, when next i take up my pen i must tell of all our doings, of the way in which the treasure was gotten, and of that uncommon villain who was soon now to appear amongst us, and who did, in very truth, by his extreme villainies, lead to my crowding the paper as i do for the benefit of those who follow me. chapter xiii. the old man's story. now, therefore, we are again at hispaniola and have got near unto the bajo de la plata, or boylers, once more, having made an extreme good cruise from england. the _furie_ was indeed, we found, a good little barky, she sailing well on the wind, which was ever most favourable for us, and so bringing us across the ocean in twenty-four days. but ere we went out to the reef there were some things that passed which i must write down. first, we anchored off porto de la plata, which, as i have writ, was so named from the boat that went ashore full of plate from the wreck fifty years--or now more--before, and which is now the port of st. jago de los cavalleros; and here we purchased a tender which it was our intention to use, so that there might be two searchings made for the lost ship. also we meant to have some canoes, or periagas, so that they could go where neither the ship nor the tender could go themselves, and thereby we did intend to scour all the water round about the reef. but, lord! who would not have been discouraged by all the merriment that our return caused--who, i say, but phips? for those who lived at porto did openly make mock of us, jeering at us for our coming back, and calling of us the mad englishmen; while, if it may be believed, people did even come over from st. jago, which is inland, to see us and our silly ship, as they called it. now, the people here were of all kinds--there were spaniards and portugees, and also some french who had by now gotten all that part of the isle to the west of monte christo on the n. and cape mongon on the s., though no legal settlement until later, as well as creoles and mulattoes, and many more. and with one accord all laughed at us, saying, "there is no plate, be sure, or we would have had it long ago." yet still phips, and with him all of us, believed it was there. but now there came and sought us out the great monstrous negro diver, juan, who, after finding through me that phips bore him no ill-will for his last fleering farewell of us, said that he had somewhat to tell us if we would hearken to him. so i gave him an appointment to see the captain the next day, and a promise that he should be safe from any harm; and so he came out in his periaga to where we lay a league off shore. and he brought along with him the queerest of old men that ever i did set eyes on--an old shrivelled-up portugee who looked as though he was an hundred, half-blind, and with a kind of shaking palsy all over him. then, when i took them into the cabin where phips was, he, being ever of a jocund vein, called out: "and good morning to you, signor juan, and how do you do? you see you were no true prophet, since here we are come back again." the hideous negro made a shambling bow, and hoped his honour was well, and then in a jargon of spanish and english, very hard for me to understand, and not to be faithfully written down, he said: "masser phips, i bery sorry i larf at you when you went away. but i never tink, no never, that you come back again. but since you come, i tell you many tings i have founder outer. sir, this old signor, he know much, he berry old"--and here the brute opened and shut his great hands nine times, very quick--"he have see ninety summers." "has he, indeed?" says the captain, "that seems a long while to me who have seen but thirty-six as yet. and what has the signor seen in all that time?" "he see many tings. he see the boaty come ashore with the silver plate--beautiful plate, many candlestickies, bagges of pieces, salivers and lumpes. all gone now!" then here the old portuguese screamed out, also in a sort of english, "yees, yees. all gone now, spanish sailors drink all up, then die. die very soon afterwards. drink all day and danze with the girls, then die." "well," says phips, "what good's that to me? if the drink and the girls got all, i can profit nothing." "he, he," laughed the old man, till he nigh choked, "got all that came in the boat, not all under the water. no, no!" "plenty more under water," grunted juan, "so he say. plenty more. only no one able to get it and no one believe. he poor old portygee, me poor negro, so no one believe." "what, does he know?" says phips, "and, if you knew, why had you no mind to speak when first we came here and i employed you?" "signor phips," said the black, "then i knew of nothing; i only suspect you fished in wrong place. then when you go away to english land there make much talk about you, and all ask me if english captain find much? and i say, no, and don't tink anyone find anyting. then old man here--he ninety summers old!--then old man, geronimo, he come in from mines of hayna in middle of country, where he lived forty year, and hear of talk about you and the silver, and of me the buzo" (which means a diver), "and he say he wish he come back sooner much, because he know where carrack lie, where shift off reefy." "shift off the reef!" exclaimed the captain and myself together, with a glance at each other. "is that so indeed?" then the old portygee burst out laughing and then choking, and then when he found his voice again, he said, "yees, yees; that so. i see sailors come ashore with plate. i drink with them, i danze with girls, too, only i not die. that very long ago now; girls all dead, too. he! he! oh!" and again he had his spasms. then once more he went on: "and so, signor, because i was a fisherman, i go out to the bajo and i look about, only i fear tiburons (sharks), and once when water very low i see down deep a cannon, then i know the ship had shifted. so another day i go look again, and there floated up a piece of the ship, a rail, so i know for certain she move. then i speak to many and i say i know where carrack is, but they believed not and would do nothing. and now they all dead, too, like the sailors and the girls. he! he! ha! ha! oh! oh!" we talked long with this miserable relic of the past--who so angered phips with his recollections of the dead and the gone, especially the girls, that he almost ordered him out of the ship--and, indeed, it did seem as if at last we had lighted on some good news. he said, when he could persuade no one to believe or lend a hand to search further, he went away to the mines of hayna, in the interior, where a fresh find of gold was made, and there he stayed for all the years, making a little livelihood and forgetting all about the plate ship. then, having at last struck ninety--on which he laid great stress, as though an action of credit done by himself--he came back to porto where he belonged, and fell in with juan. and this black told us that when he did, indeed, come back and heard that we had been and gone, he fell into such a paroxysm of rage and grief that he nearly died, "for now," said he, "my chance is gone." so the old figger thought all was lost to him, and bemoaned his fate and nigh went mad, until one day the buzo went off to find him and tell him that the captain phips was come once more back, but in another ship. whereupon he did once more go nearly mad, this time with joy, and then made juan bring him out in his periaga to us. so, after hearing all this, phips says to him: "supposing you put us in the way to find this plate, what terms are we to make? what do you want?" "half," says the old man. "i am now ninety years of age. i want to be rich for the rest of my life." "tush!" says the captain, "this is foolishness. why should i give you half? i know now the carrack has shifted; i can find it for myself. you shall have nothing." "no, no!" screamed the old portygee, while the big black negro began to mutter; and then geronimo as he was called, threw himself down on his knees with most marvellous dexterity for his great age. "no, no!" says he, "not that. i will tell you, and you shall offer me what you will. me and juan. give us what you will." "indeed i shall," says phips, "seeing that you came to me, and not i sought you. therefore, let us see. how much think you there is below the water?" "the saints only know," said geronimo, "but since she was taking home to spain the fortunes of many from cuba, as the sailors told me, she must have been full. oh! signor capitano, promise me something, give me something!" and he clasped the captain's legs about and wept. "well, now," says phips, "see what i will do for you. you and this negro diver shall tell me exactly where she lies, or as near as may be, and if i find her you shall have this." "the saints bless you, capitano; i am nearly ninety years." "be still. you shall have this between you, the negro to dive for me with my own english diver. you shall have for every five pounds of silver or of gold, one ounce, no matter whether we find much or little. are you content?" at first both of them began to grumble, saying it was not enough. but soon phips persuaded them to reason in a way that was all his own. "then," says he, doing so all in an appearance of sudden violence, "begone out of my ship. away with you! what! shall i come from england twice to find what i knew of a surety five years ago was here, only to traffic with such as you, and you?" pointing his finger at each. "nay, never! we will find it by ourselves. begone, i say!" but to begone was not their purpose, since very well they knew that without us they could do nought. strange as it may seem--and very strange it was--none in hispaniola would hearken to the story of the plate ship lying so near--for the boylers are not a dozen leagues out from the island--and so would do nothing, and therefore they could do nought themselves. for to do anything a small vessel at least was wanted, and the means wherewith to dive--and certainly the portygee had no money for this, while the black was little than a beggar. therefore, at once they sang another song, becoming directly very lowly, and saying, "well, then, they would take the captain's offer," only i liked not the look on the face of juan, the buzo, and from that moment determined to watch him well. now, therefore, i have to say that all terms were made, and we were ready to go out to the reef. we bought a tender, and we meant when we got to our little isle of old, where the second mutiny was, to make some canoes of some excellent cotton trees that were there, with which we could go about, and see better when near the reef down into the water. the negro juan was to come, first as diver, next as on behalf of himself and geronimo to see we played fair, and he it was also to whom the portygee confided the exact spot where he had seen the rail float up years ago, since he would not tell us, saying juan would take us to the place. so we went away, being delayed, however, two days by the accursed blackamoor, who we thought at first had played us false--perhaps, indeed, found new employers who would pay him better. however, at last we saw him coming out in his periaga--and none too soon neither, since we meant to go without him next morning if he came not, and try our luck alone--and when he and his craft were gotten aboard, he excused himself by saying he had been having a _festa_ on shore and getting drunk with some of his friends. "good," says phips when he heard this, "only, my black treasure, remember there is no drunkenness for you here. because, you see," he went on, "i'm captain aboard this craft, and if anyone displeases me i let them understand it. so, if you want to keep your brains in your head and your ebony skin whole, remember that. and now, bos'un," says he, "pipe all hands on deck and loose sail for the reef." chapter xiv. the wreck is found. and now i have to write down what we found, only, as such long writing is even now difficult to me, i must do it in my own fashion. and that fashion is, that i can do nothing except by proceeding leisurely and describing each incident as it came about. which i now again attempt. the soft wind carried us out past the boylers the next day at noontide, and then, as we went by, we parted with our tender, the ship going on to our little isle of old. for 'twas here we meant to construct the cotton-wood canoes, to take in some of the island water--the sweetest i ever tasted, which caused us to take it from there--and to leave some stores. the tender which we left behind--though not very far, since the isle was but three leagues beyond the bajo--was in charge of our master mate, as he was rated, an old king's man like myself, and, like myself, sick of the king's service. he was a good sailor and named ayscough. his orders were to proceed to whatever point near that the african should suggest as the reputed place where the carrack was shifted to, to anchor if possible, or, if not, to put out the floating anchors, and there to remain until we returned. but no matter what was perceived, even should it be the carrack herself at the bottom, neither our own diver nor the black was to be allowed to descend, especially not the last. then, having given these orders, we did remain on our isle two days, what time phips worked as hard as any man in the ship with his own hands, shaping and arranging of the cotton-wood canoes, inspiring every one with his ardours and cheering them on. what, however, did not cheer any of us, was a-finding that some of the bodies of the mutineers of the isle had the sand blown all off them where they were buried on the beach, and that their skeletons were lying white and bleached before us. verily, a dreadful memorial of their wickedness! moreover, another thing we saw which we liked not any too well; namely, we found drawn up in a little cove a ship's boat, with on it the name, "the _etoyle_, provydence," and in it many ropes, hooks, and head-bladders, all carefully wrapped up and evidently for use in diving. "now," says phips, "this is not well. there is nought to dive for here but one thing--the plate ship--therefore it seems to me that someone else has been about our office. yet it is certain they have not been successful. had they been we must have heard of it at porto. what think you, nick?" "that depends," says i, "on which provydence those who own the boat hail from. if 'tis that of the bahamas, then 'tis very well, since they are ours again since ' , and as king james takes his tenth of our find, we have the precedence of all. so 'tis, if it's that by connecticut, which is but a hamlet. but if 'tis that off honduras, then 'tis bad, since 'tis inhabited by buccaneers only, if inhabited at all; and, if them, we may have some trouble." "well, well," says he, "we must see. meanwhile i incline to it hailing from the bahamas. for look you, nick, 'provydence' is good english and not spanish, as most of the buccaneers are. and by the same token it may be the provydence in our own american colonies. moreover, the buccaneers as a rule put no markes in their crafts." "etoyle," says i, "is not english, though!" "neither," replies he, "is it spanish. and," with his fierce lion look upon his face, he went on, "belong it either to english, french, or spanish colonist or to pirate, they shall not have our treasure while we are above water." so, all being done, we went back to rejoin the tender. now, when we got to her we heard that the blackamoor had directed that she should proceed to a spot immediately on the other, or eastern side, of the reef, from which we had previously fished, since there it was that the old man, geronimo, had laid down that we should find the wreck. so ayscough had taken her to this spot, namely, half a league away from the boylers, and we found all preparations made for a descent, juan, the buzo, being particularly keen to go down at once. but now we summoned our own diver--a straightforward, honest englishman, whose name was woods--to come and confer with us, and asked him what he thought. then he told us that the soundings were good enough for a descent, since the bottom was not more than twenty fathoms below where we were anchored, and that the tallow brought up soft sand and limestone, which showed a good bed. "therefore," says phips, "you can reach the bottom, can you not?" "if not, sir," says he, "i can at least descend so far as to see the bottom, and if then i find the wreck it shall go hard but that i will get down to her. my diving chest can sink easily to forty feet, and with mister halley's[ ] new dress i am confident i can touch the bottom here." "so be it," says phips, "and now about the black. here you, sir," then he calls out to juan, who was even now leaning over the gunwale, peering down into the hot sea, "come here and tell us how you propose to reach the bottom." "that very easy, sir," answered he; "i have new dress massa woods lend me, which i am sure i manage very nicely. i go down if the signor capitan wish me." "no," says phips, "woods shall go down first. and since 'tis a calm morning, get you ready now, woods." at once the man did this, going forward to where he berthed in the ship, and returning presently a strange figure to behold, since now he was all enveloped in mr. halley's new improved dress, all over cords for lowering and pipes for a-taking in the air. "for," says he, "i will try this, sir, now, and see how far i can go down." you may be sure all watched him with eagerness. for besides that we hoped he should find below what we sought, but a few of us had ever seen this dress before, and were almost afraid of what might come to him. yet, he assured us, we need to have no fear; he had made many experiments and descents as trials at home in the sea and river thames, and was confident of what he could do. so, as calmly as if he were going down the stairs of a house, he bade the sailors lower him over from the gangway, and descended by the lines he had arranged and was gone beneath the sea, and in a few moments there was nought but a few bubbles to mark the spot where he had been. presently we knew by a signal agreed upon with those who held the ropes, that he had reached the bed, and then by the paying out of his pipes that he was moving about. and so he stayed thus for some twelve minutes, when we also knew he was returning to below the ship, and then there came the next signal to haul him up again, which, being done, his great helmet with its fierce goggle eyes appeared above the water once more, he following. tied on to him he bore two things, one a great beam of wood in which was stuck pieces of jagged rock, which looked for all the world like the great teeth of some beast that had been fastened in't and then broken off--they were indeed bits of the reef--the other a great piece of limestone as big as my head, all crusted and stuck over with little disks or plates, which were, we found, rusty pieces of eight. "a sign! a sign!" says phips, taking them from him; "now get your breath, woods, and tell us what you have found," and this the man did, puffing and blowing freely for a time ere he could speak. then he said, "of the wreck, sir, i have seen nought, but surely i have found the track. all the bottom of the sea is scored as though some great thing had passed over it, and everywhere there lie great lumps of limestone such as this, and great beams such as that." "ha!" says phips, and with that he takes the diver's axe and splits open the lump, and there, wedged in all over it, were many more rusty old pieces. "ha! she has left a silver track as she passed along. go on." "so i do think, sir," says the diver, "and she cannot be afar off where i descended, unless she is all gone to pieces. and even then the bed of the sea must be full of all she had gotten inside her. but, sir, i think this is not so; i think she has been brought up short, for, close by, as i gather, is another reef." "how far off? how far off?" suddenly called out the captain, full of strange excitement. "not two cables off, i think, sir," replies woods, "since the bottom where i was begins to rise towards it, and therefore--" "and therefore," exclaims phips, "it is the reef itself! marvellous strange it seemed to me that a great spanish galleon should have shifted at the bottom of the sea--whoever heard of a ship that moved below the water!--yet all would have it so; even you, woods, thought so yourself! but now i know all. she struck upon a spur of the reef and not the reef itself, and she has never moved. in which direction does the rise of bottom of which you speak begin?" the diver look't round, tracing his course beneath, and then, pointing to the boylers, or bajo, said, "there, sir." "why, so 'tis, of course," says phips. "and, as i say, her keel took the first, or outside spur of the reef as she passed along, and she never got nearer to the main one. she is there! she is there! hearts up, my lads, we have found the treasure ship!" i gave the word and up went a roaring cheer from all, one for phips, one for the galleon, and one for what she had got in her, or about her, if she had broken up. then phips, all alive now, gives an order to shift the tender to the spot where woods did consider the ridge of the spur should be, and bade the diver come along with us in it to go down again. though, a moment afterwards, he paused, saying in his kindly way, "yet no, woods. you have done enough work for to-day. you shall rest easy. now, where is that blackamoor? he shall go." the negro came forward, his eyes glistening--perhaps with the hope of what he should find--and to him says phips, "get you into the dress, or, since you are new to that, into the diver's chest; that shall do very well for finding of the reef, and, perhaps, the carrack--she cannot be afar. come, away with you." so, into the tender got the captain and i and the negro, and the sailors told off to her, and in a few moments we were apeak of the spot where woods said the reef must be. and then to our astonishment--for we had never been this side of the boylers before, and, consequently, had never seen any shoal water--of which, indeed, there was little ever--on looking down we saw, not three feet below the surface, the long sharks-toothed back of the spur. "great powers!" says phips, "'twas here all those years we wasted on the other side, and we never thought to even come round to this. fools! fools! that we were. we might have had the treasure back into london long ago. now," says he, turning from his meditations to actions, "now," to the black, "into your tub and down with you." nothing loth, for the great beast was as eager for gain as any of us, into the chest did he get and was lowered away, but scarce had the top of it sunk beneath the water when the rope quivered, then the signal was given to haul up, and back he came, and, jumping out of the chest, or bell, exclaimed excitedly, "oh! signor phips. oh, signor capitan commandante. the shippy all down there. fust ting the chest knock on cannon sticking up in water, then against her sidy, then i bery much frighted, for i see dead man's head looking at me out of hole. oh! capitan commandante, the shippy there, and she full of dead men. oh! capitan, send massa woods down to see if i speak truf." so you see we had found the ship "and," says phips, that night, as we drank together, "it is my thirty-seventh year!" chapter xv. what the first search revealed. now, therefore, have i to write down of all that, having found the ship, we found in her. yet how shall i begin? firstly, let me describe how it was with the carrack herself. she lay canted right over on to her larboard side, the whole of her larboard forepart broke away and stove in, and crushed as would be an egg beaten in with a hammer. and in the fifty years--if it were so long--in which she had been there she seemed to have grown so much to the reef, or the reef to her, that they seemed part and parcel of one another. she must, we could see at once, have struck full head on, and the wicked teeth of the rock had torn her forepart to pieces. whether at once she heeled over and sank was never to be known now, or whether she filled and sank after a while. perhaps 'twas the latter, since, otherwise, it was not to be understood how those sailors whom geronimo had known and danced with, and sang with, could, had she turned over in a sudden shock, have ever collected together the plate they had, and have gotten away in the open boat. aft, from the beginning of her waist above, she was not broken into at all, being quite sound od her starboard side as she lay, though, as we found, her larboard side aft, which lay on the bottom, had rotted somewhat and bulged away, so that what was in her on that side was, indeed, lying on the sea's bed. her masts and yards were all broke off short, and the broken pieces, into which the limestone had not wedged itself and so held them down, had doubtless risen and floated. and this must have been the case with the stern-rail which the old portuguese had seen, though why that went adrift we never rightly understood, since no other part of the stern was gone. we found all this out later on, as you shall see, when we determined what we must do; but now phips and i went apart to hold a conference, the first thing he said being, "nick, we have found the plate ship, therefore is one, nay, the greatest, of our difficulties over. but with this begins the necessity for great caution. for, see you, nick, we cannot trust the overhauling of this ship to the two divers alone. we must know all that is in her, and we must see that all comes safe up and into our hands. what, therefore, shall be done?" "easy enough," says i, "to answer that. it's for you or me, sir, who are the responsible officers, to be divers too." this i said, for i had quickly caught his meaning. then i went on, "as for myself, i will cheerfully go down." "have you ever dived?" asked he. "no," i replied, "but i can soon learn myself to do so. woods had never used this dress until a little while ere he came aboard the _furie_; yet, now, see what he can do; and what he can, so can i. therefore, unless you go i will." he thought a little while--perhaps communing with himself as to whether 'twas not his duty to go--but at last he said, "well, that way is p'raps best. you shall go, but to-day--since it grows on apace--there shall be no new descent. to-night we will rest, and then begin the work to-morrow. that shall suffice." so we did no more that day, only we signalled for the bark to come nearer to us and so anchored her a little closer to the bajo, and then all who were in the tender went off and into her for the night, the spot by the reef being buoyed, though there was little enough need for that, since, now we knew where to look, we could easily see the shoal water. one thing we desired to know, so sent for the black to tell us--namely, what he meant by saying that he saw a dead man looking at him from a hole. "oh! signor," he said, when he had come in to us, "oh, signor, i see him berry plain. he leanie right out of big porthole, his body half way out, his bony hands holding to the sides, his bony skull turned up to me." "nonsense," says phips, "his hands and head would have fallen off long ago. you dreamed it, man!" but the black asseverated that he had not dreamed it, and so we left it until to-morrow to see. now, when the morning came, at once we made our preparations for the descent. woods and i were to go down first, he telling me that it was nought to do; that to begin with i should feel a suffocation which would soon pass away, and that, excepting i would seem to be surrounded by green glass full of bubbles, 'twould not be so very strange. moreover, he told me to fear nothing, no, not even a shark if he came near me, for he would be more affrighted than i, since he knew not what i might be. so down to the carrack we descended. first went woods, saying he would wait for me at the bottom to set me on my feet, and so, as easy as ever, over he went and disappeared from all sight, and then my turn came, and the sailors lowered me from the gunwale. in a moment i was sinking through the waters, all blue and green and bubbling, passing as i went the cannon sticking up from its port--it had been left run out when the ship sank, and was a long spanish one, its muzzle formed like a snake's mouth, and looking three times the size it really was, since the water much magnified it--and so down, seeing fishes dart all around me, looking with frighted eyes at my strange figure. then i felt my feet clasped by woods and placed firm upon the bottom, and i was there. and what a strange sight did meet my eyes! firstly i perceived i was not on the bottom at all, but standing on the upturned starboard side of the ship, quite near by the great cannon, and also to an open port. yet, as she was not entirely canted over but lay at an angle, 'twas very hard work to support oneself steady, and i was very glad to cling to a stanchion for the time. but, now, woods taking me by the hand did lead me up the chain wales and so over the bow, until i stood with him upon the deck, which was here not difficult; and then i look'd around. the first thing to be perceived was that the whole of the deck was swept clean of most that had been on't, except such things as the hatch-hoods which were fixed, the after bittacle, the stumps of the broken masts, and so forth. the cannons, too, had slid down owing to the incline of the wreck, and did all lie huddled on the lower, or larboard side, and the hatches were mostly open. wedged in among the cannon were some bones and a skull, so that now i knew that the negro had seen this in his descent, and had thought the black muzzle of the cannon was a porthole. and now, woods making to me a sign to follow him and pointing to my air-pipe--which, he had told me before he came down, i must by no means get twisted, or the air would cease--he set his foot upon the after hatch-ladder, and, so, slowly descended, i following. so did we go down to the middle deck, around which were placed the cabins or berths. and now i was to see a sight enough to freeze anyone's blood, even though so old a sailor as myself. for first we went into the main or living cabin, and there we observed what death had done in its most grisly way. we saw huddled into a corner of it the clothes of a man and woman, within them still their bones, and they were, or had been, locked in each other's arms--the long hair of the woman lying close by the fleshless head. then did we see in another corner another woman--her mass of hair pale and golden, like to an englishwoman's, and in her bony arms she held also some little bones and a skull, which told a sad tale--it was a mother and her poor babe, who had perished together. and, around and about all, there swam and darted away as we drew near hordes of fishes, though 'twas long since they had made a meal of these poor dead things. but now i could stay no longer, being as yet not used to my strange head-dress of copper, so i made to woods a sign that i must go above, and so we went forth, and, giving of the signal, were drawn up to the surface again. and once more i breathed the air of heaven and was very grateful therefore. then phips took both me and woods aside, asking us what we had found, and we told him--he sighing at the sad news from below--and also did we tell him how, as yet, we had done no more; so says he, "well, courage, nick; when next you go down you shall find better than these poor dead ones--what think you, woods?" "i hope so, sir," says he, "since all around the main cabin are many sleeping ones in which there should be some sort of things of value, and then must we break away the middle-deck to get to the lower, where the plate, if any, should be." "if any!" exclaims phips. "why, now, i do believe from all reports i got from cuba years ago, that she is full of it! she was, besides being a galleon, taking home the adelantado, or governor, and his family, and also some others. if we find not a hundred thousand's-worth at least 'twill be little enough good for me." woods opened his eyes at this, for tho' all knew we sought for treasure, none knew that she might have so much within her; indeed, none had been told what she might contain. and, now that both ship and tender were apeak over the wreck and nothing could be brought up without being seen by all in them, there was no longer any secret to be made. soon again, after we had refreshed ourselves, we were ready once more to go down, and juan the black was to go with us, only both i and woods were ordered by phips to keep an eye on him. this brute was, as we knew, a coromantee, and, from all accounts, they are not only the biggest thieves of all the blacks but very ferocious as well. moreover, neither the captain nor i fully believed in his keeping us waiting off porto only so that he might get drunk, and we knew not if he and the old portyguese, or he and some other villains, might not have been concocting some precious scheme to defeat us. but we had no dress for him, only a copper bladder-head, which, however, would do very well, since the creature was ever naked and certainly wanted no garments in which to enter the water, and was so strong that he said the water could not press on him to hurt; and so, taking the longest air-pipes we had for all of us, again down we went, all arriving on the middle deck one following the other--woods first, i next, and the negro last. as we passed into the main cabin we saw the black's great copper head bent over to the dead where they lay huddled, and then suddenly darted back, so we knew--or, at least, i did know--that to his other qualities he added that of fear and timorousness. and now, seeing that on the bulkheads, or on the cabin doors, could be still read the painted names, such as "capitan," "teniente po,"[ ] "pasagero,"[ ] and others, i motioned to woods to burst open with his axe the captain's door and let us see what was within. this was soon done, since in nature the woodwork was somewhat rotten, and, moreover, 'twas not fast, and so we entered, or clambered, into it. the bed, or bunk, which was very large and roomy, we could observe, even after the fifty years that had passed, had not been slept in since it was made; therefore we did conclude the captain was above when the ship struck, and so was lost. for the rest there were, all shifted into the corner of the cabin, two great heavy chests clamped with iron, and on them great padlocks, and these we decided must at once go up to the tender. so we lifted them up with much ado and affixed them to the slings, and then they were gotten up. and now i was becoming so used to my strange habit that, beyond a singing in my ears that went and came, i felt no inconvenience, and was, though not rash, very busy about the main cabin. and in this way i entered into a berth which we made no doubt was that set apart for the adelantado of cuba, since all showed it to be so. the swords about the cabin, the rich clothes, though soaked with water, of both a man and a woman proved this to be the case, as did the great chests that had slipped about the place and the bed. and herein was another terrible and ghastly sight. in that bed lay two human forms, or what had been human forms once, though now but skeletons, the two skulls being side by side, the woman's hair being a great black mass upon the coverlet like a pall. so they had died together, he who had ruled spain's greatest colony and she who had acted for spain's queen. and this was all left of their greatness! poor things! but we had to see to the chests and what was therein contained, since doubtless the governor had much. and since they were bursted open, perhaps by the shock of the ship striking on the reef, we peered therein and saw things enough to make one gasp, even more than i did in my strange head-dress. for, lying in the water of the chests, or leastways of one chest, were golden plates and ewers and candlesticks and sockets, all of them set in with pearls and rubies, and there, too, were caskets, not open, but so firmly fixed and locked that very well might one guess what should be within. also on this chest--for the others contained, as we could see, but wearing apparel for both of them--were many other choice things, such as comfit boxes, necklaces, the jewel'd orders of the adelantado, the gems and brilliants of his lady, some jewel'd swords and daggers, and several great bags or sacks full of gold coins. verily it was a great sight for us to see--as for the coromantee, he thrust his helmeted head so far into the chest that we had to draw him back by main force--and i could not but feel joyful that, at last, we were in a fair way of discovering of all. for it was not to be doubted that on the deck below we should find the silver itself. but now we were signalled to from above to rejoin the tender, so, sending the black first, since it would never have done to leave him here a minute by himself, and i going up last, we returned back above the sea. chapter xvi. an honest man arrives. now when we got up to the surface again, i taking with me one of the bags of gold coins to show the captain, we were very much astonished to see that, moored alongside of our ship was another--a small craft such as is known in england as a "snow," which is generally very fast in sailing, having a main and a foresail, as well as a trysail mast. and as i looked round after getting my head free again, i did see on her stern a great gilt star and the words "_etoyle_, provydence," so now i knew what she was, and, perhaps whence she came, or at least that she was from one of the provydences. leaning over her bows and watching us as we arose--with a twinkle in his eye, which squinted somewhat, when he saw the coromantee--was a man whom i guessed to be the skipper, a great yellow person with a shock of black curly hair, so that i thought he must be a mustee, and with a big slash, or scar, all along his face. and leaning over, too, were several others, sailors, all regarding us fixedly. their eyes were set upon the bag of coins at once with, as i thought, an eager gleam in them, and then their captain hails me and says: "what luck below, shipmate?" to which i did but grunt a word, not knowing how things stood as yet. but now comes forward phips, who says to him: "captain alderly, this is our first lieutenant, who is in charge of the diving at present;" and then he turns to me and says, "crafer, our friend has been here before--that is his ship's boat drawn up on the isle--and he thinks he should have a share of the spoil, since he found the wreck before us--_so he says_." "does he, indeed?" i replied; "'tis strange, then, that he took not away the spoil when he found it;" and i fixed my eye on him to see what he would reply, for since, as i say, we were moored close alongside, every word spoken on one deck could be heard on the other. "ay, ay," says that skipper, "and so i should indeed, and came here hoping to get all. but of what avail is hope? my little snow cannot fight your great vessel of two hundred tons, and we both sail under the english flag. and therefore, since i am an honest man and peaceable, i must, perforce, lose my chance. but your captain says, sir," he went on, addressing me, "that i may have a percentum on what i help to bring up, and that must suffice. yet, 'tis hard on an honest man!" "ay," says phips, nodding his head, though i did observe him closely and saw that his eyes were ever on the other. "ay, 'tis hard on an honest man! yet, captain alderly, i think your percentum will pay you very well for your trip from the bahamas." "not so well as the gross," replies the other, "but, as i say, it must suffice. yet 'tis hard. i have brought with me--indeed, went back for him--a most expert diver, who i thought should have gotten me all, and now he must work for another. 'tis hard! 'tis hard! yet an honest man must not repine so long as he can earn his living in these times." now, that night when we sat as was our custom taking some drink together, while, since the arrival of our new friend, the watch was doubled, phips says to me: "nick, i do believe that honest man is as big a scoundrel as ever hung at the yard-arm. for, firstly, if he does not come from provydence in the gulph of mexico--which is infested with buccaneers and pirates--instead of provydence in the bahamas, i am much mistook, and, secondly, i am certain that he and that infernal blackamoor are known to one another. i have seen already glances between them, and it is my belief that when the negro was drinking, as he said, at porto, he was devising some scheme with this fellow." "but," replied i, "even so, what can they do? naught can come up from the wreck unperceived by us, nor could his diver get down by night without our knowing it. therefore we are safe." "yes," says he, "we are safe so long as we are never caught asleep. now, as for the diving, what we will do is this. his man shall go always with woods, and, since you like the office, the coromantee with you. what say you, nick?" "i like it very well," replied i; "or all can go down together. if you are above to see to the hauling up, there can be no picking nor stealing." so this we agreed upon, and then phips went on to tell me of the arrival of the _etoyle_ while i was below. she came, it seemed, round by our little isle, and, on being challenged by phips as she drew near, hoisted a friendly signal, so was allowed to approach, especially as she flew the english flag. then the skipper told the captain that he was extremely distressed to find so large a ship there forestalling him, since, having discovered the reef some months ago, he had gone back to the bahamas to fetch a diver and to refit, and so on. "however," says phips, "i soon gave him to see that, even if he had been here before--which i could not dispute because of the boat at the isle--he had indeed been forestalled and missed his chance. and also i told him that we had been for four years searching for this very wreck, that we held the king's patent for fishing for it, and that we meant in no way to be thwarted or interfered with. for, says i to him, even though we had no papers, but were only pirates or buccaneers, still we would go on with our task and trust to our shotted guns--as they always are now--to help us. so then," continued phips, "he sees that he has no chance, and asks if he cannot help in the fishing, to which i answered, 'very willing, if you chose to do so at a fair rate.' and being anxious to get the work done and to get back home, i have given to him the same terms as to geronimo and his sweet blackamoor." "tis well, sir," says i, "and now we need fear nought. while, if that negro in any way plays us false, we will shoot him like a dog. shall we not, captain?" "ay," replies he, "we will, or, since they say the sharks will not eat black meat, we will make an experiment of him, and see for ourselves." so now, therefore, when the morning was come all was arranged, and, to commence, down went the three divers, and i along with them. our plan now was to clear the whole of the middle deck of all in it, and then to break up the top part of the ship sufficient to get down to the lower or orlop deck, where the bullion room of the spanish ships was ever placed. so we got to work, sending up at once everything found, and a mighty great find it was. all cabins not in use for the officers of the ship were full of passengers away home to their country, and all these were, it was plain to be seen, rich persons. their bodies were found frequently--all skeletons, like unto the others--and in some cases 'twas strange to see how they strived to preserve what they most esteemed of value. thus, round one, a female, as again the hair close by denoted, which was red, slightly fleck't with grisel, there was on the bony neck a great rope of diamonds, each as big as a nut, that all sparkled and glistened in the water, and round each wristbone there was the same in bracelets. poor thing! perhaps she feared to be robbed and so slept thus. then again, there was a bed, or berth, in another cabin, out of which the body had been cast by the shock and lay in a disjointed mass of bones in the corner, but in the bed itself, under a pillow, we found a great pouch of goat's skin all full of unset diamonds, rubies, and blue stones called sapphires, and also a belt full of great spanish pieces of gold, weighing five of our elephant guineas each. and thus we went along, ransacking of every cabin, finding chests here and coffers there, full of precious stones and jewels, with bags of money and skins too, as well as, in several cases, parchment drafts drawn upon the old bank of barcelona and the treasury of castile. poor creatures! they had taken all thought to get themselves and their monies and valuables home to their land in safety. yet had they not gotten many score leagues upon their way ere all was lost, life and everything. nay, had they made straight for spain, instead of coming on to hispaniola, as they must have done to be here, they had not been lost at all. and now we had done with the middle deck, there was nought more to take away; for though there were many rich silks and satins, and so forth, all was spoilt by the water, as was their spirituous liquors and their wines, of which there was a good supply. so, after going above for to refresh ourselves, we were now ready to cut away this deck that we might descend to the place where the plate was. "'tis a good find already," said phips to me, as i sat at meat with him, "a fair good find, nick; and by the time we have got up the silver we shall well have justified ourselves to our promoters. of jewels and coin already sent up by you, there are many thousands of pounds' worth--and for the plate it shall bring us well up to the mark." then he went on to ask me, "how i found the divers working, and if i saw any sign of anything like treachery upon the part either of the black or the provydence diver?" and, since i could not say that i had witnessed aught that appeared to me suspicious, he said he was very glad; and so we fell to it again for the afternoon. all that time we spent in getting the middle deck cleared away as much as might be, and in removing a great part of her starboard side, especially by her orlop beam. also we did cut away all her timbers between her lower ports, so as to make a sufficient big opening through which to enter, and removed all between her fourth and second futtock. so that now her stern part, or at least all that below her poop and quarter deck, was open to us and gave great space. and from here we could progress right below her gun deck and waist and get up almost to her main wale, or to where her fore part began to be bruised and smashed on to the reef. now, therefore, we had got her bullion room clear of all encumbrances, so that there was nought to do but to burst it open--it being most securely locked with great spanish locks that looked as though they would defy all attempts except powder to open them. yet one thing else did we see: namely, that down on the larboard side--which, as i have writ, lay on the bottom--the ship had somewhat bulged forth and some of its treasures come out. for we could observe great bars of silver lying on the bed of the sea, mostly encrusted with the limestone, yet with some part sticking forth and glistening brightly. one piece alone, a great sow of silver which had fallen from the bursted bullion room, was so heavy that all of our united strengths could not lift it, nor could aught be done until, with their axes, the divers had broken away its crust accumulated in fifty years. however, at last we got it fastened to the hauling up lines and it was towed up--not without great fears to us below that it might break away and fall upon us, smashing in our heads--and when it was weighed that night we found it to be of about fifty-six pounds. and this was the beginning of the fishing up of the plate. chapter xvii. an alarm from the "furie." now, it would be useless, as well as tedious to my hand, for me to write down all the little incidents that took place on board our ship day by day, and likewise to keep accounts of every ounce of silver brought up from the rich mine we had discovered. moreover, i have weighty matters to write about--which shall be the very things to advantage those who come after me when they read this--so at once i begin again. and, therefore, i now proceed to say that ere we had been many days at our dredging and fishing, it was come to bringing of the silver up by tons, so that, at last, our _furie_ began to sink low in the water until she almost touched the reef herself, and we became obliged to discard all ballast and use the silver in its place! i do not say that tons came up daily--since, indeed, twenty sows of about fifty to fifty-five pounds each was our usual haul, but we reckon'd now by tons. and so well had i made my calculations that i considered there to be in all thirty-two tons of silver, and this was what it eventually turned out to be. now, since silver was worth in the london market at this time sixty pence an ounce, it was therefore very easy for us to reckon what our find would be worth when we had got all, exclusive of the jewels, wrought plate, and other things. so that, as phips said, we must one way or another take back with us something between one hundred thousand and two hundred thousand pounds' worth. "which," says he, "will be very good for all of us, especially for you and me, nick. perhaps, indeed, we need never go to sea again, though i think we both love it dearly." though that phips should ever cease from wreck fishing or treasure hunting i could not well believe, seeing that such things were ever in his mind. even now, when we were doing so wondrous well, and were like to be, perhaps, the most notorious of finders ever known from any sunken ship--as, in truth, we did become--he was always a-pondering over other searches. thus, he would ever be telling me that, not very far away from here, there had sunk the ship which was taking home bobadilla, another adelantado (but of hispaniola), and that 'twas full of treasure gotten by him. amongst other things which he said he knew there were, was a solid gold table of three thousand three hundred and ten pounds weight[ ] and much coin and jewels. and he talked of coming forth from england after he had once gotten this treasure of ours home, and seeking for that. but i told him--for we were now as intimate as brothers--that first let us finish this job, and then time enough to think of others. now, our next task was to get into the bullion room, and this we did after very considerable difficulties, seeing that those locks of which i spake were so extremely strong; but even they yielded to us at last, and we got to it. and, lord! what a sight was there! the silver was packed in bars and sows and bags, tons and tons of it, so that verily i did come to think that our ship of two hundred tons would never move again, unless 'twere to sink, and that we should never get all up. yet, as it did happen, what we found was less than our ballast, which for a two hundred ton ship is usually twenty-five tons of iron and thirty tons of shingle; so in that respect all went very well. during all this time alderly had been behaving in such a manner that there was no earthly fault to be found with him, and so, it is but just to say, had our coromantee. they, the men of provydence, helped at the hauling with a good will, working hard all day long, and singing cheerfully and pleasantly at night, and alderly even went so far as to express himself satisfied enough with what was to be his portion, or percentum. for, he said-- "never did i think there was aught like this in the ship, and, though i do see very well what i have lost, yet also do i see my gain, and shall go back to nassau a very well satisfied honest man." and his diver, who was a bermudan, descended of the early english settlers in that island--which rich mr. waller, whom i had often seen about the late king's court, a gentleman and a poet, wrote so much about in its praise--certainly did do his very best, and so did the negro, both working under woods. and in this way, though a careful watch was always kept on all that was found below the surface and all that came above, they did so manage to delude us and throw dust into our eyes, that--but this you shall find later. they were villains all, and they deceived us, yet at last a righteous vengeance was had of them. so i go on. now it came about at this time that we ran short of fresh water--which in such a tropic place is above all things the first necessity of man--and so it was arranged that i should take the tender and go to our isle in charge of her, leaving phips to do as he had ever been doing, namely, superintending the bringing up of the plate to the surface. in my place as chief diver, or officer in charge of the divers, there was to go down our bos'un, a worthy, honest man, who could be trusted in all. the tender was--as heaven would have it, and as 'twas afterwards most providentially proved--a very fast, swift sailer, and was a dutch galliot that had come to porto, and had been seized for debt by the man from whom we bought her. also she was armed, or rather fit to be armed, having cannon-ports in her sides capable of taking small cannon, and, as we never trusted in this region to chance, i took with me four of our little guns, a swivel gun, and, of course, our muskets. as you shall see, 'twas well i did. they were soon to be wanted. so we parted from our companions, to be gone from them for two or three days at most, yet there were some of us never more to meet in this world. so i parted from my tried friend and comrade, phips, thinking that we should sail home together as we had sailed out--yet, alas! but little more was i to set eyes upon him in this world neither. both of us were to succeed and prosper--though he to die young--yet were we only to come together once again for a short time. yet, why digress from my story? better to go straightforward and plain, and so make an ending. we reached our little isle, and rounding the point to get to our old landing place, lost sight of the _furie_, and, taking the boat after we had anchored her in "safety cove," as we called it, all went ashore but two, being right glad to once more step on land for a stretch. we meant that day, by phips' leave, to take our ease, to lie about, and to gather some of the sweet fruits that therein do grow, and to catch some fish to take back to our comrades. then, the next day, we did intend to fill up our casks, cut some wood for the cook's galley, and so back. and this we did do, getting yams and shaddocks, and so forth--and catching of many pounds of what in these parts are called mullets, though, indeed, they are full-sized trouts, and many crayfish and some soft-shell'd crabs. so the day went and we lay down to sleep. and on the next we fished again and gathered more fruits; we filled all our casks and carried them in the boat to the galliot; we cut and corded of the wood, and made all ready for rejoining the _furie_ at daybreak, since on that burning sea the first two hours of day are best and coolest. then the muskettoes are, i think, not awake, the sun is not so fierce as later, the air is cool and fresh, with generally a soft pleasant wind. so that second night, ere we lay down, we put in all our fruits, our ananas, bananas, toronias, limes, and wild apricots, as well as some wild parrots we had shot, which are sweet and good eating, and then all was done and we distributed ourselves for taking of our rest. only we set a watch, there being six of us in all, and so broke the night into three, i and a young lad taking the first watch. 'twas eleven of the clock, as we made it by the nearly full moon, when we were relieved, and all was most calm and peaceful. the birds of the isle were all long since hushed to rest, and even the insects that do here abound disturbed us not. so i and the boy lay ourselves down, and soon we were asleep. how long i so slept i knew not, yet 'twas not day when i awoke, springing up as did the others, all as though shot, while the watch came running to us. for through the calm night air--or, rather, that of the morning, for the chill told us the dayspring was nigh--there had come the loud booming of a cannon--once, twice! "what did it mean?" we asked each other, with wonder starting from our fresh opened eyes. "what did it mean?" and then all with one voice we exclaimed, "'tis from the _furie!_ from the _furie!_" so, swift as we could run, down we got to the boat, and so by threes to the galliot--for although we heard no more cannon, we knew that our place was in the ship at such a time--and getting to her and all in at last, we dragged up her anchor, pulled in the boat, and, to the fresh breeze arising with the coming day, shook out her main, her mizen, and her gaff-main sail. and so out of the cove and away. and as we did so, up over the trees of the little isle there went from the neighbourhood of where the _furie_ lay two bright blue rockets, which, as phips and i had agreed upon, should be the signal for our immediate return, as well as to warn us to be ready for danger. chapter xviii. treachery and flight. "what can it mean?" the sailors asked of one another as we got into the open, while, for myself, i was as lost in wonderment as it was possible to be. naturally, my first thought was that the _furie_ had been attacked by either the spanish or the french, the first from st. dominic, or the latter from aittii. yet i knew not either how this could be, since the sound we had heard was that of our own cannon, which i knew well enough, we having practised all of them considerably on our voyage out. moreover, two cannon shots, and that from one side only, do not make a battle, so i was sorely puzzled as i stood at the tiller of the galliot. yet when we had rounded the point, 'twas pretty easy to perceive what had happened. for in the rays of the waning moon we did see that the provydence ship had got away from the _furie_, and that, with all her sails filled, she was shaping her course to the south-east. and in another moment also did we see that the snow's trysail mast was shotted away--broken off clean down, leaving but a short stump, and with the sail itself all a-dragging in the water. and now from us, as we headed for the _furie_, arose a babble of talk and questionings as to what this must mean, while all of us decided that, at least in some way, these scoundrels had managed to steal some of the sows of silver, or the bars or bags, and to get away from our bark in the night. but ere long we knew how much far worse than these things were; we knew that we had been robbed of a terrible deal of what was ours. and soon, too, we knew it. for when our course was still set dead for the _furie_, we did see coming towards us with great swiftness one of the cotton-wood canoes we had made--under phips' direction and partly with his own hands--and in it three of our men, who instantly signalled to us that we should come about and pick them up, for, calls out one to me-- "you must away, sir, at once after those villains, and we are to go with you to help. for they have robbed us, the thieves, oh! treacherously! they are, after all, but buccaneers from the provydence in the gulf." so, much startled, we did bring ourselves to, putting our foremast aback, and throwing off a line to the canoe, and so had them all soon aboard, and then, losing no time, away after the snow we went, while from the _furie_ we saw phips standing on the poop a-waving of his hands as though in encouragement or farewell, and from her there did, come a ringing english cheer. and now we were to hear a story indeed of treachery unequalled, of villainy extreme. for it appeared, as i did gather from our bos'un, who had come to join us with the other two, that these scoundrels had all along been a-planning of their scheme; and thus it happened. after we had sailed for the isle, it seems that the bullion room was rapidly emptied of the plate, so that, at last, there was gotten up thirty-two tons in all, and then 'twas perceived that below the sows and bars there was still much else, so that the place was a very treasure-hold of wealth. for there were more bags of gold pieces and more of silver, which were at once took up into the _furie_--and then underneath them there were two chests marked with the names of the adelantado and of his wife. and feeling sure, as they did, that herein must be great wealth, the curiosity of the bos'un--as, wringing his hands, he did tell me--was too great for him, and so, not being a discreet man, which neither was woods, they opened of the chests and saw in them a startling sight. for there, free now from the layers in which once they had without doubt been enveloped, they did perceive jewels of all kinds, pearls, diamonds, the blue sapphires, and much else. then alarmed at having so looked, they decided that they must not tell the captain of their curiosity, for fear of punishment. and neither did they tell him (which, if done, might have saved all that followed) that both the black and the provydence diver had seen anything. so, saying only to phips that such chests were down there, they said no more, and arrangements were made that on the morrow all should be brought up. and this, 'twas thought, should finish off the fishing, and soon we should be ready for home. but alas! how far off from that were we now. therefore, since the plate was being got up on the first day we were away in the tender, which was the galliot, and also on the second, it came to be that the chests of which i speak were but discovered too late that second day to be brought up. now, on that night the watch forward was kept by the negro, juan, and the after-watch by a sailor, who was a dull-pated, heavy fellow, of little use in a ship at any time and one who ought never to have been with us. and, as it was discovered later, juan had been plying this man with drink which he had concealed, so that on his watch--as though his stupidity was not enough--the fellow was flustered and sleepy. at midnight phips went to his cabin all being well, and the master's mate came forth to take his place--and, terrible to relate, from that time never was he heard of nor seen again. the bos'un who told me all this said he thought either that the coromantee murdered him, or that one of the crew from the _etoyle_ got aboard and did do that office; but, any way, he disappeared. perhaps he was first stunned and then given to the sharks. who knows?--leastways, there was no sign of blood. then, next, it would seem that from the far side of the _etoyle_ the diver of that ship must have been most quietly lowered into the water, must have passed under our forefoot--i mean of the _furie_--and thence to the bullion room of the wreck, and so fastened the lines to the chests that, with his own help below, they could easily get them up to the _etoyle_. and then, when this was done, there was but to get up sail as quick as possible, and away. and that was not so hard of accomplishing as a sailor might think. for, firstly, the _etoyle_ was not anchored, but moored and made fast to the _furie_, so that, while all were asleep below, and while the master mate was murdered and gone, the after-watch drunk and stupid, and the fore-watch a traitor and conspirator, that snow might very easily be unmoored. therefore, it was but to get up the sails and catch the fast rising morning breeze, and so off and away. moreover, so deeply was the plot laid, that, as 'twas found shortly, the door of the captain's cabin was made fast from the outside, the ladder was set loose of the main hatch, so that, when the men came tumbling up, it shifted, and they came tumbling down instead, and two of the cannon's touch-holes were spiked. yet, whoever was the wretch who did all this, still was he a fool likewise, since in his haste he had not spiked the cannon that gave on the bow from which the _etoyle_ must move, but on the other. but now, as they brailed up their sails they could not disguise the noise they made, and in a moment phips heard them, being ever on the alert, and was at his door, sword in one hand and pistol in the other, to get out. and, said the bos'un to me, his cries were terrifying to hear when he did discover how he was trapped. first he smashed with his fists a panel, all the while he was roaring for his men to come and set him free, and also for his poor dead master's mate, and then he flung himself against the door with such fury that it gave way, and out he came. "he look't, sir," said the bos'un to me, as he told all this while we were tearing through the water after the buccaneers, who i did see sorrowfully were gaining on us, "he look't like a demoniac. and when he saw that the _etoyle_ was already under weigh, his rage was such as mortal man might indeed fear to see." it appeared from this man's account that phips in his madness discharged his pistol at alderly, who was on the poop, and miss't him, whereupon alderly returned his fire, missing also; that next the captain called for the gunner, who could not get his linstock ready all at once, and by this time the sails of the _etoyle_ had caught the breeze and she was under weigh. "haste! haste! man," cries phips to the gunner, now running with his light, and snatching it from his hand applies it to the breech himself, doing no harm with his shot; and then the gunner, having trained the next gun better on to the fugitives, they did hit their trysail. this impeded them somewhat, though not sufficient to prevent them getting away. and then, the bos'un went on to tell me, phips roared for the watch, calling them, as was his wont in an emergency, dogs and traitors, and soon learnt that the poor master's mate was slaughtered, or, at least, had disappeared. "and," went on our informant, "then we all trembled. for while the tears sprang to his eyes, which in an instant he dashed away, he said also, in now a very low voice which seem'd mighty ominous, 'and the other watch? the fore and aft watch. where are they? bring them to me.'" then, with a howl, the coromantee sprang forward--wringing his hands, imploring pardon, saying he too had been deceived by alderly, who had drugged him. "ay!" says phips, between his teeth, while as he spake he shook the powder into the pan of his pistol--"ay! no doubt. deceived by alderly. because he got away and left you behind for me to slay you." "no, no!" yelled the brute. "no, no! signor capitan. no, signor phips, no slay me!" and he clutched, said the bos'un, at phips' legs and tried to seize his pistol hand. "ay, but i will, though," said phips.--"no man betrays me twice;" whereupon he drew back from the howling wretch, and seizing his wool by one hand blew out his brains with the other, so that the deck was all bespattered with them. "fling him over," said phips, "and swab up the mess, and now bring forth the other. meanwhile, where is crafer with the tender? she should be round the point by now." then they brought forth that other poor crazed traitor--weeping and sobbing with despair, and shrieking as he saw the great negro's dead body--and to him strides phips, his sword in hand. "you dog," says he, "you have betrayed us too. so must you die also. they say you drank with the coromantee and slept on your watch. therefore, to the yard-arm with him." 'midst his shrieks and howls they dragged him away, calling on his mother's name, which softened phips so much that, the bos'un said, he seemed at one time like to spare him, only he remembered all he had been robbed of. and then, ere the man was executed, the boat was lowered that was to bring them to us in the galliot, and so they came away. "and," said phips to the bos'un, "tell mr. crafer that so long as his galliot will swim, so long as there is a man left alive in it, so long as he can sail, fight, or move, he is to follow those buccaneers--even though it be into their stronghold. and while there is one of you left alive, that one is to attempt it, and is to get back the stolen treasure. and then, when that is done, the rendezvous shall be portsmouth town, to which those of you who live must find your way back somehow. now go; do your duty, commend me to nicholas crafer and tell him to do his. and more, say that at the sign of the 'navy tavern' i will leave word for him or he for me--whoever by god's grace reaches there first. and reach it i pray we all may do." such was the message brought to me, this the duty i had to perform, this the errand on which now we sped. ahead of us, and still gaining on us, went the snow, _etoyle_, with the buccaneering thieves on board, and with them a fourth of our treasure; behind us slowly faded into dimness the reef and the _furie_ moored fast to it. that phips himself would have given chase had he been able, was certain--only, before he could have got under weigh the buccaneers would have been out of sight. for nought was ready, the plate was not bestowed away, the sails were unbent and all in disorder. so, instead, 'twas i got the commission to chase those thieves, to follow them to their lair, and to wrench back from them the stolen goods. and as the galliot danced along, following the course they had betaken--which was now set due east, so that i could not but think they did mean to 'bout ship shortly and run for porto rico, or, perhaps, one of the virgin isles--i took a solemn and a fervent oath that never would i fail in my endeavour while life lasted to me. if i could catch and defeat those thieves, i swore to do it, and so upon that i set myself to see to the arrangements necessary in our small craft, and to make all ready for what might be before us. chapter xix. the "honest man" in his true colours. now, as i have said, we were--with the coming of the bos'un and the other two--nine hands in all, there having been six of us who did go to the little isle in the galliot for wood and water. therefore my first disposition was to arrange ourselves into regular watches, which was easy enough to do, since three men at any time awake were sufficient to keep the lookout, to attend to the craft, and so forth then next there was the provisioning to be done. now for this there was little to disturb ourselves about, since we had all our island provisions of the fruits, the fish, and the parrots. that they should continue their course due east, as it was now set, was not to be considered, since that way they could encounter no refuge until they came to the guinea coast or, at best, the cape de verd islands. such, it is true, was no great run for the snow, provided she was well enough provisioned and watered--as might or not be, for all we knew--but still 'twas not very like to be the case. the virgin islands in the antilles, most of them little better than keys, which are small sandy spots appearing above the surf of the water, with only a few weeds and bushes a-growing on them, and abounding with turtle, appeared to my mind to be far more their mark. most of them are uninhabited, and one or two there are which are large and even rocky and craggy, but, in general, as i have said. now, there is no key, at the present time wherein i set down this recital, which is not the haunt and hiding place of innumerable pirates and thieves, and also used as a burying place for their stolen riches, and here it was most like that alderly would retreat with what he had gotten. the ships of war of any countries can scarce chase them here, the lagoons, harbours, and inlets all about offering to the smaller craft a natural security, and, if the villains are encountered, their one excuse always is that they are a-turtling: viz., catching of the turtle for sale in the larger islands. so, pondering thus, i did begin to take my decision, and counsel also with those under me. for says i to the bos'un-- "that they should make for africa is not to be thought on. why should they do so, when all around are innumerable refuges? therefore, cromby"--which was the bos'un's name--"do you know what i will do?" cromby replied--"no, he could not tell, but of one thing i might be sure: namely, that there wasn't an honest heart in the galliot that wasn't with me body and bones"; whereon i unfolded my idea. "my lads," says i, "we're alone, nine of us, and we've got to do one of two things. either catch the _etoyle_ and make her surrender, or meet her and fight her until one of us is sunk. now, listen. catch her we never shall; she sails three feet to our two; she's hull down now--where do you think she'll be at daybreak to-morrow?" "on the road to cape blanco," replied one, "across the water." "take a turn north in the night," said cromby, "slip past abreojo and turk's island, and so for east florida, or, p'raps, cuba i doubt their touching an english island." "so do i," i answered; "yet i think you're wrong. the wind sets fair south, therefore 'tisn't likely they'll try for the north; and as for a cruise for cape blanco, i scarce believe they've either food or water enough. they borrowed three barrels the day before we went to our isle--like enough to provide for this jaunt! no, my lads, south is their course, and the virgin isles or porto rico their aim. now, we shall lose 'em when dark comes on--there'll be no lights on that piratical bark!--but by the blessing of god we'll find 'em again, and it will be somewhere between tortola and porto rico's northeast coast that we shall pick 'em up again, or i'm a dutchman." and now, since the sooner they were out of sight of us, and we of them, the better--which was nigh on being the case already, so much had they got the foot of us--we slackened our gaff main sail so as to fall off still more, and gradually we lost sight of them altogether. "so," says i, mighty glad to think such was the case, and knowing well that though phips said i was to _follow_ the buccaneers, he would approve of my plans if he knew that following was an impossibility, "put her head due south, and let's see what comes of it." and thus, that night, just as the sun set, we were off the northernmost of the islands; we could see anegada right ahead of us, and st. thomas too. we had arrived at the spot where i hoped, ere many hours were past, we should meet with the villains again. it began to blow boisterous, however, now, so that we were bound to keep well out to sea, not knowing what dangers we might encounter if we proceeded farther. and if there was wanted aught else to make this a dangerous chase on which we were engaged, it was that--even to help us in fine weather--we had no instruments whatever in our possession. no, not so much as a quadrant, a chart, nor even a waggoner, though we had a meridian compass. we had no thought of nautical instruments when we left the _furie_ for the island; above all, we had no thought of setting out upon such a cruise as this, to end the lord knows where. indeed, when it came to our getting back to england at some future time--if ever!--we should have to do it by running down, or rather up, the parallels, and then make direct casting for home. that would be our only likelihood, so far as we could now see, of striking soundings again in our old channel. "'tis indeed getting dirty above us, sir," said israel cromby to me, pointing upwards; "i misdoubt me much of what is coming. and the current sets in towards the islands. what must we do?" "best run out a bit, so as, at least, not to be dashed on shore. there is a good moon, which will give some light." 'tis true there was a moon, yet so obscured by the storm that now set upon us that it was but little good except when seen through a rift in the clouds for a moment, but soon lost again. then down from the north there came howling a most fearful tropic gale, beginning first of all in fitful gusts, so that we were obliged to haul in all our sails and scud under bare poles--knowing not where we were going, but dreading every moment to be dashed on to either a rocky bound island or a sandy key. in god's mercy, however, it seemed that at this moment the wind did shift, so that very soon we could perceive we were not being driven towards the land, but providentially away from it, whereby if our little galliot would but live we might still weather the storm. over her bows the sea was now coming in in great quantities, so that we were baling with the canvas buckets we possessed, while another precaution most necessary was that our powder should be kept dry. if that was spoiled, then indeed we should be at the mercy of the pirates if we encountered them. at this moment there did come a lull, the clouds broke, and through them the moon shot down a clear bright ray on the waters so troubled beneath it, and as we tossed up and down, israel cromby whispered to me-- "look, look! sir, on our larboard bow"--which was the direction i was not gazing in then--"look, not two cables' length off. there are the villains!" look i did, and there was the snow, as he had said, riding up and down on the crest of the waves, one time up above us and towering over, another time wallowing down in the trough of the sea, with us above. they had seen us as soon as we them; and alderly, standing forward, was regarding of us fixedly. he shouted forth something which 'twas impossible to hear in the turmoil of the lapping, swirling waters, while as the snow sunk and we rose in those troubled waves it seemed as if he shook his fists at us. "he is, i think, a devil," said cromby to me. "look, sir, what he is a-doing now!" i did look, and as still we rose and fell upon the troubled waves, i saw that he was holding up with both hands a casket that looked very heavy, and shaking it before our eyes, as though to tantalize us with the sight of the stolen goods. and, meanwhiles, laughing and gibbering on the deck like so many fiends, as i have heard such creatures called, the other villains in the snow were a-stamping and dancing round him as the vessel rolled and lolloped about in the tumbling waves. "heavens and earth!" i exclaimed, "why, they are all mad with the drink! see to those fellows holding the bottles to their mouths. what a time to be fuddling themselves, when their ship wants all the knowledge a seaman possesses!" even as i spoke we saw a great wave come along aft of them, break over the stern of the snow and then wash right over the decks, knocking the men down like ten-pins and driving the craft onwards with a boust, and, as it did so, a new fear sprang to my breast. in their drunken state 'twas great odds that ere long they would go to the bottom, and their master whom they served so well, the devil, would have them, which was no great matter to us; but what was worse was, the stolen treasure would go too. "we must catch holt of them somehow," said i. "oh that the waves would bring us together, that we might grapple and board. yet, what chance is there? the wave that rolls us towards them rolls them away from us. what shall we do?" "to board them, sir," said one of the men, "would be fatal to the treasure. as 'tis, they would throw it overboard. see, sir, what the madman is doing again." the sea was calming as he spoke, so that we now got uninterrupted views of each other, and then to our affright we did see alderly fastening of a cord to the rough-tree-rail at one end, and at the other round the casket, and then lowering it over the side till it swung three feet from the top of the waves, which sometimes, as they burst against the snow, hurled the box backwards and forwards like unto a shuttlecock. then, next, he drew his knife, and making signs to us of what he would do by laying of the blade on the cord, he stood by defiantly regarding us. also the drunken scoundrel and fool had made up his mind to defy us to the utmost and to be plain with us, as it was very evident to see. he had run up his colours, so that there should be no doubt left in our minds about him; on his mizen peak there flew a black silk flag, with on it a skeleton, or "death," with cross bones in one hand, and in the other a heart with drops of blood dripping from it, and also a jack of the same, with a man having a sword thrust through his body, as later i saw plainly. so he stood proclaimed a pirate. but what was, perhaps, more truly a sign of what this reckless creature was in reality, was the fact that--doubtless before the storm came on--he had abandoned the work-a-day dress of the "honest man" which he wore when first he came alongside of the _furie_, and was now bedizened in a lot of finery, none the better for the assaults of the winds and waves. he was dressed in a rich blue damask waistcoat and breeches, in his hat a feather dyed red; around his neck was coiled half a dozen times a gold chain with a great diamond cross on to it--perhaps he had stolen it from the wreck!--hanging over his shoulders was a silk sling, with, thrust into it, three pistols on each side. all this we saw afterwards more plainly than now. "i cannot endure this defiance," said i to cromby; "let him sink his casket and be damned to him! i have been a king's officer, and will never submit to the insults of a blackguard scoundrelly pirate. up with the mainsail, my lads, haul away, and at him;" and as i spoke i whipped out my pistol, and, sighting him, fired. that i miss't him was none too strange, seeing how both of us were tumbling about and rolling in the water, no more than that he miss't me, as, pulling two pistols out of his sash, he fired, one in each hand. then, when he saw our mainsail go up, he made as though he would cut the cord to which hung the casket--only a moment afterwards he altered his mind, and bellowing of an order, which we could very well hear, since now the waves and winds had abated, soon had his own sail up; and in a moment his ship had caught the wind and was away. that we should ever have catched them sufficient to come alongside and board, i cannot think, even under the best of circumstances, but this chance was not to be ours, for our ropes had fouled, so that they could not be run, and ere we could get them disentangled, the _etoyle_ was well off from us. but since again, with the coming of fairer weather, the wind had northed, we could very well see they were running for the south. they _were_ bound for the islands! but at last we got our ropes free, and away we went too. the morn was breaking now and the waves abating, so that, though still we tossed up and down, we could see their horrid black silk flag a-flying on the mizen peak whenever we rose to the crest; and, with the white spume of the water dashed in our faces, and reckless now of what might happen so that we did but keep them in sight, we set all our galliot's sails--main, mizen, and gaff main sail--and tore after them. "we will follow them, my lads," i said now, with my blood up to boiling heat; "we will follow them to the death! there shall be but one crew left alive to tell this story." and as i spake my men gave three hearty cheers. so, having got thus far in my account, i will now rest again for a while. chapter xx. a fight. now i go on to narrate the tracking of those thieves and pirates, and of what thereby followed. by midday we were off the islands, with the chase well ahead of us--yet not so far neither as she had been, since we had sailed faster than she this time, in consequence, as we soon learnt, of their having snapped their foremast--and with negada, or the drowned island, so called because 'tis frequently submerged by the tide, lying not a league away. "i have been here before," says cromby, "and i doubt their getting ashore. all around lie sand-banks and shoals that require careful navigation. if they run in here we shall fight 'em when we are both aground." "then i do pray they will," says i. "it will be best to land, and no chance of escape for either. 'twill suit us, my lads." the men answered cheerfully. "so 'twould, and very well!" yet as they so spake we saw that alderly meant not to enter there. then said i, "if it be not here, p'raps 'tis virgin-gorda they are for, or anguilla"--for i, too, had been here before--"yet, 'tis not very like. there are colonists here, and have been since charles's day." but another hour showed us that neither were these islands their aim, but, instead, a little long tract of land that, among all the others, is not marked on the chart, but is known among mariners by the name of "coffin island," because of its shape. now, coffin island hath on it a mountain, not so very high, yet near to the beach, being inland about a quarter of a mile, and from the mountain's base there runneth down a wood to the sea, with, in it, a channel or river. this we learnt shortly, though 'tis fitting enough i set it down here. and now 'twas very plain that 'twas for this channel the desperadoes were making. with our perspective glasses we could see--as we passed the before-mentioned isles--that they were heading straight for that inlet; we could indeed perceive them get to its mouth, haul down all but their trysail, and so into the river, which was broad enough to let in a bigger ship than theirs. "after them we go," i exclaimed, "though they have all the best of it. yet"--with a moment's reflection--"it may not be so, neither. if they get ashore, maybe they cannot take their cannon; if they stay on board, we are as good as they. how is our powder?" the men answered the powder was very well. they had carefully kept it all dry, so that we should not lack that. therefore i gave them orders to carefully prime and load our pieces: namely, the four little guns and the swivel, and also the muskets. and so we, too, stood for the channel. as we neared it we could very well see up it somewhat, and did notice that the _etoyle_ had come to a halt. she was not anchored, but had drifted a little down again towards the mouth of the inlet, and thus she was as we passed in, the woods growing thick on either side. and now was the time when we saw the finery in which alderly had arrayed himself. he, as we ran in, was standing by the bows of his ship, and had in his hand a glass of liquor, and, as we drew close, he shouted-- "trapped! trapped, by god! you will never get out of this! you cannot escape!" "you beastly pirate!" i called back; "there is no thought of getting out. we are only most thankful to have got in. now, will you haul down those vile rags at your peak, and give up the stolen goods and surrender, or----" "surrender!" shouts he. "yes, i will surrender! like this!" and stooping down behind his bows for a moment, he picks up what was a new-fangled sort of grenadoe--being a case bottle filled with powder and pieces of lead, iron slugs and shot, with a quick match in the mouth of it--and flings it aboard us. but in a minute one of my men, a lusty youth from north berwick, named fernon, stoops down, seizes on it, and flings it back into alderly's ship, where it exploded amidst their yells and curses. "now," said i, as at this moment our crafts touched, so that the whole channel was blocked, "over their bows, under the smoke, and among 'em. pistols and cutlashes, my lads, will do the business." so over we did go, and soon found that we had a tough job before us. for though the men of the _etoyle_ did only outnumber us by five--namely, four men and alderly--we discovered ere long on what a dreadful mine we were standing. as i cut down one man, giving him a wound in the neck that nearly sever'd his throat as clean as if he had cut it with a razor, cromby whispered in my ear-- "sir, what shall we do? down below stands a great negro over two barrels of powder, with a lighted slow match in his hand. 'tis evident the instant we are victorious he will blow up the snow." the sweat sprang out all over me as he said this, and, fighting hand to hand all as i was with now another pirate, i had to pause and deliberate. then i said-- "if you cannot shoot him we must get back to our own vessel. try if you can get a ball into him." and now i came against alderly and rushed at him, when i saw him settle himself against the tackle of a gun, his hand over his heart. "so," i thought to myself, "he has got his death wound. he will fall dead in a moment. let us see for ourselves." amidst the smoke, therefore, and firing some shots below into the hold in the hopes of slaying the negro, we leapt back into our galliot, and then, before the crew of the _etoyle_ knew what we were at, we had pushed ourselves off of them, and, catching a little of the current of the canal or river, got drifted down some fifty yards. and here, being safe from any explosion should it take place among the others, we gave them a broadside from our guns almost before they could know we had left them. but they answered not. we heard our balls crash into the sides of the snow, we heard her timbers splitting and bursting, we even heard the shivering of a mast or yard, and its fall on the deck--but no reply was made. no ball came back crashing into us, no report echoed ours. all was still. "let the smoke clear off," i said, "ere we fire again. meanwhile, keep your guns loaded. can it be that all are slain?" the smoke did evaporate shortly, and then we learnt that 'twas as we thought. either the pirates were all slain or--fled. we had won our day. from our rattlins, by running up a dozen, i could see on to the deck of the _etoyle_, and perceive men lying about dead. also, too, could observe the deck stained with blood, the fallen mast bearing the vile silken flag a-lying across one man--it having smashed his head in as it fell. but though i gazed at the gun tackle where i had seen alderly, he was not there now, neither near it nor by it. had he therefore escaped? "we must board the _etoyle_ again," says i; "yet since the negro with his lighted match may still be by the powder, i will go alone first, as is my duty. lower the boat." since i had regained our tender i had been standing enrapt, gazing with all my might at the smoke first, and then up into the shrouds again at the enemy, taking no heed of my own craft. but now, as no one stirred, to my hearing, to obey my orders, i turned round sharply to chide them, but as i did so i started and felt myself go pale. "good god!" i exclaimed, "good god! what is this?" there were but three men, i recollected in an instant, that had leaped back into the galliot from the snow, and those three men were here in the ship behind me. but, alas! two were now dead; the third, israel cromby, was a-lying on his back, gasping out his last few breaths. "oh!" says i, "oh! my poor men--this is a sorry sight for any commander to see. cromby, man, it is ill with you, i fear?" he opened his eyes, all covered with a film like a poor partridge a gunner has knocked over, and then he whispered-- "sir, sir. there is a poor old woman down rotherhithe way--she is--my mother. she--drawed--my money--tell her--she has no other means whereby to live--if you--get back, see to----. sir, i've done my duty." so he died and joined the others, and went his way to meet his god. and i was left alone. from the _etoyle_ there came no sound, nor from the woods neither did any come. so i told myself this would not do. i must be stirring. thinking which, i lowered down the boat, having to shift the bodies of my poor dead men to get at the tackle, and then got down into it, and so to the _etoyle_. it was no use wasting time when i got to it, i reflected; if any were alive of the enemy they must be encountered soon or late--as well now as then. and the negro i did feel sure was dead. otherwise, he would have blowed up the snow or else come forth. making fast the boat, i clambered up over the side of the buccaneer's craft, and then i saw pretty quick all that had happened, looking first to see for the negro. he was done for, as i had imagined, and was lying flat on his back at the foot of the hatchway, his match burnt out in his dead black hand, which, i saw later, had been singed and scorched by the flames; yet that hand had been perilously near to the powder-barrels while the slow match lasted, as it lay all stretched out. on the deck they laid about, my men and alderly's, as they had fallen, and i did perceive that our broadside had finished up one or two at least of the latter, who were still breathing when i got aboard, though not long after. of my six men who had fallen there, i made instantly a burial, tying shots to them and heaving them over the side--for i would not have the birds of prey--many of whom were hovering about the banks of the river--tear and devour them. this i did do when i felt sure they were indeed dead, but of the pirates i took no heed--the birds might have their bodies (as i doubted not the devil had got their souls by now), for all i cared. one thing--or rather two--i did not find which i would very willingly have done. there was no sign anywhere of either alderly or the casket he had flourished in our faces. now, if alderly had died before his men, or some of them, this would not be strange, since i knew--having hunted pirates before to-day--that the captains had ever the desire to be flung overboard the moment they were dead, and always in their finery and adornments. and this doubtless had happened to him; that is, if he had not escaped, which was, of course, possible for him to have done if he had not his death wound when i encountered him. and the casket might have gone too--though this i doubted; at least, it would not go while one man remained alive, and he would not sink it until his last gasp, at which time he might be then too feeble so to do. yet i resolved to search the snow, to see if any were lurking about, or if the casket was hid anywhere. 'twould not take long to do, and even though it did, what matter? there was no call on my time. down below, to which i went after carefully scrutinizing the deck, all was in great disorder; weapons were lying on the cabin table alongside of food and victuals, and there was a broached barrel of rumbullion--or kill-devil--a-standing in the middle of the cabin, with a scooper, or long-handled ladle, hard by, which doubtless they had drunk from by turns; and since they were drunk when we met 'em in the night, i supposed they had been drinking ever since they had deserted us. leastways, the barrel was half empty, yet none was spilled. here was the body of a man shot into the head, and very ghastly--i doubted not he had fallen down the hatch when struck, or, may be, run down for drink to ease him. and now, seeing this corpse set me off a-calculating how many there had been in the _etoyle_, and how many there were now--whereby i should get the difference of those in the ship, and those who had been flung, or fallen over, or--if it might be so--escaped. and, at last, i did arrive at the solution that but two were missing; namely, the villain alderly and his diver. therefore, even allowing them to be alive, all but three of both crafts had been killed in the fight. and if those two had escaped it must be by having leaped overboard in the smoke and confusion--'twas certain they had not taken their boat, for it still lay along their deck, upside down, where they always kept it, as i had seen often when they were moored alongside the _furie_. now it had a shot in it from one of our guns, i did perceive, which was perhaps the reason it was not used--though their haste to get away was more like to be the cause. yet, i pondered, if they had hastened away, where was then the treasure? the casket alone would almost, i should judge, sink a man who endeavoured to get ashore with it, though it was but a few yards to swim--how could it be, therefore, that they and their stolen prize had got away? the truth, i did conceive now, was that all, alderly, diver, and treasure, were at the bottom of the river. but by this time the night was approaching, vastly different from the former one, it being calm and cloudless; and i was worn out with want of rest, and with the fighting and excitement. so i resolved i would take a night's repose, and then in the morning i would explore the island carefully--'twould not take long, being not a league in length nor half as broad, as i knew; above all, i would see if i could find the goods you wot of. as for the two pirates, i feared them not one atom; face to face, i deemed myself--a king's late officer--the match for any two dirty pirates that ever breathed. so i let go the _etoyle's_ anchor and made her fast for the night, and then rowed me back to my galliot and prepared for my rest. chapter xxi. the villain's den. 'twas as i have writ, a night vastly different from the precedent one, beautifully calm in this little channel, or river, with the moon arising behind the wood that bordered its eastern bank, and with a cool breeze coming from the sea and rustling through the leaves. and as the moon rose above the treetops she flooded all the river with light, making a great shadow of the _etoyle_ on the water, and also of the galliot. i lay me down upon the deck of my craft wrapped in a boat-cloak, as soon as i had gotten things a little ship-shape for the night (i had anchored the galliot before i went off to the snow), but sleep came not easily. there were, indeed, many things a-running through my brain. firstly, there were my poor dead sailors sleeping below in the water--probably already food for the great variegated crabs that do here abound--whom i could not but lament, and especially israel cromby, with his dying thoughts of the poor old dependent mother at rotherhithe. then there was the position to be thought of in which i now stood. i had the galliot to get me away in, 'twas true, to the adjacent islands, some of which were inhabited by my own countrymen, and not far off neither--but, supposing i got back the treasure from the pirates, should i ever get it safe home to england? i knew not, as yet, how much it was; whether the casket was all or only a portion; whether also that portion was a huge mass of gold or silver, or a small one of jewels. above all, should i get it in any form or shape whatever? was it buried in the river ere the last of the pirates died, or were those two men alive, and had they got ashore and buried it there? still my fatigues were such that, in spite of all my conflicting and unhappy thoughts, i slumbered at last. long and peacefully i slept aboard the little craft, which had none other now but myself for its inhabitant, with the cool night wind blowing all over me, and freshening me as i lay. yet i awoke ere daylight had come--startled by something, i knew not what! the moon was at her full height now, the channel was as light as day, 'twas that, i thought to myself, had waked me; and i turned over on my side to sleep again. yet, as i dozed, and should soon have been gone again, once more i was disturbed. "perhaps 'tis a beast," thought i, "in the wood, crashing through the undergrowth,"--for such i fancied to be the sound--"perhaps 'tis--"but here i ended my speculations, for i saw what had aroused me. 'twas the two villains, alderly and his diver, a-standing on the bank of the river gazing into it. 'twas their steps i had heard crunching on the underbrush. now it did so happen that our galliot had a cabin aft, with, cut into it on either side of the sternpost, two portholes, so that, lying here, i could very well see through those scuttles what they were a-doing without their seeing me. whether they thought i was not in my vessel i could not guess; or whether they knew i was, having watched me all the latter part of the day from the wood, but deemed me now asleep, 'twas impossible for me to tell--yet doubtless 'twas the latter, since they seemed wary in their movements. yet was it obvious to me, watching them as i did, that both were still under the influence of the drink; as they stood gazing into the water, first one would give a lurch, then the other, or one would hiccough, and the other would curse him under his breath for making of a noise; and once the diver--whose name i knew not--nearly fell forward into the river, and would have done so, had not alderly clutched him and hauled him back. and all the time the moon enabled me to see the latter's tawdry finery, all smirched with dirt, with powder and filth, and his broken feather in his hat, and the stains and grime about him, while, as for the other, he had nought but the coarsest of apparel upon him. now, seeing they were still drunk, i did begin to think they had a resort of some sort in this isle, perhaps comrades upon it from whom they could get drink, since 'twas hours since they had had any in the snow. which led me to reflect that, if there were more of these wretches here, my case was a bad one. however, watching of their actions drove these reflections from out my head, for a time at least. presently, one, alderly, stoops him down, going on to his hands and knees and, baring his arm up to the shoulder, thrusts it into the water, and begins moving it backwards and forwards as though feeling for something in it. and shortly he found what he wanted, for he lifted up a stone as big as my head, with round it a rope that ran on, into, and under the water as he lifted of it up. this was easy to perceive, for the drops of water sparkled on it like diamonds as he held it at his end. "ha!" thinks i to myself. "i do guess what's at t'other end now. well, well, we will see." yet, as i so thought, i looked to my priming. i thought it would not be very long ere i should have to shoot these two ruffians, and take my chance of there being more of the same sort on the isle. but the time had not come yet, i did perceive, and meanwhile i lay perfectly snug watching their doings. a moment after alderly had gotten the stone and rope up, he threw away the former, and began, with his comrade's assistance, hauling and tugging at it, and presently they got ashore from under the water a long box of about four feet--though 'twas not what i expected to see, namely, the casket. this, i made sure, would have been fished up, but 'twas not. i never did see it again. 'twas plain to observe there was no more to come, for no sooner was this box up than they made as though they would depart, alderly letting the rope drop back gently into the water; and then, as i could see by his gestures, making signs to the diver to pick the box up and carry it. but this led to an argument between them; i could observe them shrugging of their shoulders with a drunken gravity, lurching about now and again as they did so, and stumbling against the box more than once; and then, suddenly, i perceived alderly strike the other in the mouth and knock him down. "now," thinks i, "this leads to more things. if they go on like this, there will be only one pirate soon for me to contend with, so far as i know." even as i pondered, my words came true. the diver got up, whips out a long knife, and made a rush at the other--the weapon sparkling as though it was dipped in phosphorus in the rays of the moon--and in another moment they had closed together. but alderly was the best man of the two--which was perhaps why he was chief of the _etoyle_--and ere long he had hold of the other's wrist with one hand and had got him round the body with the other. then, by degrees, he did bring the body down until it lay across his own knee, face upwards, and having, as i did see, the strength of a bullock, or a vice, he forced the other's arm up and down, directing so his clenched hand that he compelled him to plunge his own dagger into his own breast. once, twice, thrice, he did it!--the diver screaming with the first plunge of the knife into his bosom, groaning with the second, and with the third making no noise. then alderly lets go the diver's fist from out of his own, and frees his own body from his grasp, and down the diver fell to the brink of the river. "you slew yourself," says he, looking down at him; "'twas your own knife that did it, your own hand that plunged it in." and here he laughed, an awful, blood-curdling laugh. the laugh of a maniac or a fiend! then he put his foot to the dead man's body and tumbled it over into the river, so that i saw it no more. next, seizing on to the long box--and nearly falling over it as he did so in his half-drunkenness--he lifted it on to his shoulder and went into the wood. only, as he departed i saw him also lift up his foot and touch his shoe with his finger, and hold that finger up in the moon to look at; and then he gave again that awful laugh. he was a-laughing at the dead man's blood in which he had trampled! "now," says i, "is my time; i will find out if he can also slay me. at any rate he shall not escape without doing so," and with these words i lowered the boat again, got into it and went ashore--the distance from the galliot being not twenty yards. and then, securing of the boat to the trunk of a small tree by the river's brink, i plunged in after him to the wood. only, you may be sure, i had my pistols with me and my sword. at first the little wood was so dark that i could not see, or scarce see, the moon a-shining dimly through the thickness--a thickness all made of wild orange, citron, and pomegranate trees, as well as of campeachy trees, and mountain cabbage palms. yet soon this wood opened out somewhat; there rose before my eyes a little glade, on which the moon did here shine as though on a sweet english field at home, and, reaching this, i perceived by stopping and looking carefully that my man had passed this way. the long grass was all trodden down--nay, so much so, that the two must have also come this way when they set out as comrades--and, since the imprints of the footsteps were most uneven and without regularity, i felt sure my drunken pirate had struggled and staggered along this track. so across the little glade i went, following ever the irregular crushings down of the grass, until i came to where it was bordered by more thick underbrush and shrub, and then, even had i doubted i was on the steps of alderly, i could do so no longer. for now through that thick brushwood and tangled growth of briar, and lacery of trailing things, there was crushed aside a most distinct opening through which a man, or men, must have passed, while, had i desired further proofs of where the man had gone whom i sought, it was before me. lying on the brushwood, catched off and torn by a thorn, was the broken end of alderly's red feather, the piece that had hung down over his savage face as he forced the diver to slay himself, and that gave, even in that awful moment, an appearance to him of almost comicality. a comicality, though, to cause a shudder! now did i, therefore, loosen my blade in its sheath and set my pistols in my belt carefully, for, since by this time i had gone a mile at least, 'twas not very like i should go much farther before coming on to the desperado, unless he should have turned off at an angle--a thing i could not judge he should have any reason to do. and so i went on very carefully, keeping ever a watch about and around me, so that i should fall into no trap. soon, however, i did perceive that the path turned, as i guessed it might perhaps do, and i thought the time was not yet come for me to get up with my chase, when, to my astonishment--in spite of my former ideas that there might be other buccaneers upon this isle--there came to me the sounds of singing and revelling, of shouting and whooping and drinking of healths, and clapping of canikins or glasses on a table. "the health," i heard a voice shout, "of winstanley, the diver of liverpool, the man who strove to contend with alderly. his health in the place where he is gone, and another to his taker off!" and then there followed the banging and smashing of drinking vessels on the table again, and huzzas and shriekings. next uprose a voice a-trolling of a song. "when money's plenty, boys, we drink to drown our troubles, oh-oh! carouse, revel, and never think, upon the morrow, oh-oh!" "when money's plenty," i heard alderly repeat. "when money's plenty! why, and so it is, my blithe lads. look here in this box, my hearties. here's enough and to spare for all. diamonds, sapphires, pearls, gold and silver. ha! ha! drink, my lads. give me the bowl. peter hynde, my lad, drink up, and you, robert birtson, and will magnus, you, and you, petty, and crow, and moody, and fat john coleman. drink, you dogs, i say, drink." "i have landed on a nest of them!" thinks i to myself. "a dozen at least, i believe. well, i will lie hid awhile, and if they o'ermaster me, why--" "when money's plenty, boys, we drink! and bring the girls along, oh! of blood we've shed we never think, midst dance and jocund song, oh!" burst out the ruffian again. then he yelled out, "a toast! a toast! the health of phips and that accursed crafer, whose blood i've drunk," at which i started. "so," thinks i, "he deems me dead. 'tis perhaps best. yet shall he learn," i muttered twixt my set lips, "that in spite of him and his horde i am alive--he shall--" "and bess, my coromandel girl, bring in the meats!" the villain now shouted. "ha! ha! here she comes with the steaming turtle! fall to, my boys, fall to; and here comes our queen of port royal, our golden-haired barbara who loves us well. my lads! a health to the girl of port royal!" and again there came the banging on the table of fists, then cans, and the voice of alderly whooping and shouting. "i must see this crew," i whispered to myself, "e'en though i die for it. i must see these ruffians in their den with their loathsome womankind. i have four shots in my belt, and a good sword. all must be drunk and _i_ am sober! i will do some execution amongst them." so through the brushwood i went a pace or so, parting the leaves as gently as might be--though that i should be heard there was no fear amidst the infernal clamour and din and shouting of alderly. then, next, i saw before me a hut, or big cabin, built of logs, with a wide, open door and thatched with palm leaves; from out the door there gleamed the light of a lamp, and as i parted some boughs and bushes to get me a view, i could see very well into the hut. and this is what i witnessed. chapter xxii. mad! inside the hut ran a long table on trestles; upon that table were platters and drinking vessels; on it also were some dried fruits, some pieces of dirty, coarse bread, and also some scraps of jerked beef, or, as 'tis called here in the caribbee-indian, boucan; and that, with the exception of some drink in a tub, was all! there was no steaming turtle or other savoury viands, neither were there any women, golden-haired or others, nor a nest of pirates. besides alderly himself, there was in the hut no living soul that i could see. he was alone! yet, in front of the table, there lay something on which my eyes could not but fasten, the long box, in which i did believe the stolen treasure was. and also by its side were three bags, or sacks, bulging out full of coin--i could see the impress made upon the canvas by the pieces within--and these i did guess had never come out of the wreck we had been fishing on. they were, i thought--and found afterwards that my thoughts were right--spoils from some others than us. the plunder of another foray! but at the time i could do nought but watch the great villain, the creature whom i could not deem aught but mad, or, at least, mad from the drink. his eyes glistening and rolling like a maniac's, he sat in the middle of the table, gibbering and grimacing to either side of him, as if the companions he had named were there; now shouting out a toast, then banging on the table with both his fists, then seizing a can or mug in each of them; next calling out in a deep voice "huzza, huzza," and then altering it to the shrill one of a woman doing the same thing. next, he would seize the scooper of the liquor tub, and, with clumsy bows to the empty chairs or stools, for such indeed they were, would fill the glasses standing on the table in front of those chairs, though they being already full he did but pour liquor upon liquor until the whole table streamed with it. then, for variety, he would tear with his fingers a piece of boucan off, and with solemn gravity lay it on some tin plates near him, saying to the vacant space behind the plate: "barbara, my sweet, 'tis the choicest piece of the haunch; i beseech of you to taste a little more"; or, "coleman, my fat buck, take a bit more of your own kind," and so forth. or he would crumble off a bit of his dirty, frowsy bread, and, with his filthy hands putting of it in his mouth, would say, "the turtles' eggs are at their best now. 'tis the season. ha! they are succulent!" then he would drink a deep draught of the spirits by him, call a toast, and begin his bawlings and clappings again. to see the ruffian sitting there in the half-dim light--for his lamp was none of the best--grimacing and gibbering to vacancy, and addressing people who existed not, was to me a truly awful, nay, a blood-creeping sight! for now i knew what i had before me. i knew that this pirate, this man, whose hands still reeked with the blood of his comrade--one of those whom he had but recently called on them to drink a toast to--was mad with long-continued drinking and p'raps scarce any food since they left the reef; that, indeed, he had the horrors, called by the learned, the "delirium." still, all was not yet at its worst, as i found out and you shall see. meanwhile, amidst his bellowings and howlings, which i need not again write down, since they varied not, i pondered on what i must do. i had the fellow caged now; if he attempted to come out of the hut i was resolved to shoot him down or run him through as i would a mad dog; indeed, any way, i was determined now to be his executioner. he was a pirate, a thief who had caused us of the _furie_ much trouble and loss of good life--and here i thought of israel cromby and my other poor men, all dead!--also he was a secret murderer. he must die by my hand--but it must not be now when he was mad. i was ordained to be his executioner, i felt, but i would not be a secret murderer myself also. no! not unless i was forced to it. but, still, i decided now to advance in upon him--the position i was in was cramped and painful; the hut would be better than this, with now many night dews arising from the soil and enveloping of me, and--if the worst came to the worst--i would knock him on the head and secure him. also, i remembered, i had the treasure to secure. so i moved into the path, rounded it, and, pistol in hand, advanced towards the door of the hut, and, standing in it, regarded him fixedly. at first he saw me not. the light was growing dimmer, so that to me he looked more like the dull, cloudy spectre of a man than a man itself as he sat there--perhaps, too, i, with nought behind me but the dark night, may have looked the same to him. then, as he still sat talking to an imaginary figure behind him, his conversation running on the drinking and carousing he and his supposed comrade had once evidently had on the coast of guinea, i said, clearly though low-- "alderly, you seem gay to-night, and entertain good company." in truth, there was no intention in my heart to banter the man or jest with such a brute, only i had to let him know of my presence there, and one way seemed to me as good as another. instead of starting up, as i had thought he might do, and, perhaps, discharging a pistol at me, he turned his head towards the door, put that head between his two hands, and peered between them towards where i stood. "who is't?" he asked. "i cannot see you. is it martin come back from the isles with the sloop?" this gave me an idea that there were some comrades expected--perhaps from some other villainies! but i had just now no time for pondering on such things, so i replied: "no, 'tis not martin. but, 'captain' alderly, you should know me; you drank a health to me not long ago. i am lieutenant crafer of the _furie_." "i do not know you," he replied; "i never heard of you. yet you must be dry in the throat. come in and drink." in other circumstances i might have thought this to be a ruse--now i could not deem it such. beyond all doubt he was mad--my only wonder was that such a desperado should not be more ferocious. perhaps, however, this might be to come. i sat me down opposite to him and regarded him fixedly in that gloomy light, and it seemed as though i brought by my presence some glimmer of reason to the wandering brain. "crafer!" he exclaimed. "ah yes, crafer! drink, crafer, drink. so thou hast join'd us. 'tis well, and better than serving phips. we have more wealth here than ever phips dreamed of--if we could but get it away. away! yes! away! what might we not do if we could but get it to england! we might all be gallant, topping gentlemen with coaches and horses, and a good house, and see ridottos and--but stay, crafer, you must know my friends." and here the creature stood upon his feet--i standing, too, not knowing but what he was going to spring at me, though he had no such intention--and began naming his phantom friends to me and presenting them, so to speak. "this," says he, "is peter hynde, a gay boy and a good sailor. also he is our musicianer of nights--he singeth too a sweet song. stand up, hynde, and make your service. and this is will magnus, with a good heart, but ever lacking money till he joined us. a brave lad! 'tis he who has cut many a throat! barbara, my dear, throw thy golden mane back and kiss the brave gentleman--she was but a child, sir, when we found her, yet now, now, she--ha! again that wound! how the thrust of the steel bites!" he sank back into his chair, and tore at his damask waistcoat and then at his ruffled shirt--yellow with dirt and spilt drink, and dabbled with thick bloodstains--and so, opening of his bosom, there i did see a great gash just over the heart, in his left pap. and i wondered not now that he was mad with the drink and the fever of his wound; the wonder was more that he was not quite dead. he sat a-gazing at this, with his eyes turned down upon it, and muttered, "one gave it me as from that accursed galliot, as they boarded. it seemed i had gotten my death. ah! how it burns, how it throbs! barbara! black bess! hast thou no styptic for stopping of this flux, no balm for this pain? ha! no? then give me drink, drink; 'tis the best consoler of all, the best slayer of pain." and here he seized his ladle, filled a glass from the tub, and drained it at a gulp. then he wandered on again: "barbara, get you up to the chirugeon at kingston; tell him i am sore wounded." "jamaica is far away from here," i said to him. "barbara will scarce bring you aught from the pharmacie there to-night." then, bending forward to him across the table, i said, "alderly, you are wounded to the death; that stab and your drinkings have brought you to the end, or nearly so. tell me truly, did this," and i kicked the box at my feet, "and these bags of coin come from the plate-ship? tell me!" he peered at me through the deepening gloom made by the expiring lamp, as though his senses were returning and he knew me, and muttered: "more--more--than the plate-ship--this is a treasure house--" and then, suddenly, he stopped and, pointing a shaking finger over my head, stared as one who saw a sight to blast him, and whispered in a voice of horror: "look! look! behind you. god! i stabbed him thrice. yet now he is come back. see him, look to him at the open door. 'tis winstanley, the diver of liverpool. ah! take those eyes away from me--away--away! 'twas your hand did it, not mine," and with a shriek the wretch buried his head in his own hands. that the murdered diver was not there i did know very well, yet the ravings of the man, the melancholy of the hut in the wood, the dimness of the lamp, all made my very flesh to creep, and instinctively i did cast my eye over my shoulder, seeing, as was certain, nought but the moon's flood pouring in at the door. yet i shivered as with a palsy, for though no ghost was there all around me was ghostly, horrible! with a yell alderly sprang to his feet a moment after he had sunk his head in his hands; his looks were worse now than before, his madness stronger upon him; great flecks of foam upon his lips, and from his wound the blood trickling anew. "away! away!" he shouted. then moaned. "those eyes! those eyes! they scorch my very soul. away!" and he cowered and shrank, but a minute later seemed to have recovered his old ferocity. "begone!" he now commanded the spectre of his distorted vision. "begone!" and with that he rushed forward, forgetting in his madness the table was betwixt him and his fears, and knocking it over in the rush. and with it the lamp went too. only fortunately it was at its end, there was no longer any oil in it--otherwise the hut would have been burnt to the ground. but all was now darkness save for the moonlight on the floor within and on the brushwood without, and, as alderly recovered himself from his entanglement with the fallen table and trestles, i could see it shining upon his glaring, savage eyes. and he took me--i having been knocked to the door by the crash--for the ghost of the diver, the spirit he feared so much. "peace, you fool!" i exclaimed, "there is no spirit here, nought worse than yourself. and stand back, or, by the god above, i will blow your frenzied brains out," and as i spoke, i drew a pistol, cocked it and covered him. with a howl he came at me, missing my fire in his onward rush, dashing the pistol from my hand with a madman's force, and, seizing me round the waist, endeavoured to throw me to the earth. yet, though i had no frenzy, i too was strong, and i wrestled with him, so that about the hut we went, knocking over first the tub of liquor with which the place became drenched, and falling at last together on the ground. and all this time, alderly was cursing and howling, sometimes even biting at me, and tearing my flesh with his teeth, especially about the hands, and gripping my throat with his own strong hands--made doubly strong because of his frenzy. i smelt his hot, stinking, spirit-sodden breath all over me; i could even smell the filth of his body as he hissed out: "i ever hated you, winstanley; i hated you when i made your own hands slay you. i hated you in life, i hate you now in death. and as i slew you in life, again will i slay you in death." then at this moment he gave a yell of triumph. his hand had encountered the hilt of my sword, and drawing it forth from its broken sheath, he shortened it to plunge it into my breast. but as he did so i got one of my hands released. i felt for my other pistol, i cocked it with my thumb, when, ere i could fire, the cutlash dropped from alderly's hand and he sprang to his feet, his hands upon his wound. "see," he whispered now, "there be two winstanleys: one here--one coming through the wood. are there any more--?" staggering, he stood glaring forth into the wood through the open door, seeing another spectre, as he thought, there; then slowly he sank to the ground, letting his hands fall away from the gash in his breast, from which the tide now ran swiftly. "oh, agony! agony!" he moaned. "can one live and feel such pain as this. nay! this is death. barbara, draw near me. listen. this hut is full of spoil--beneath--none know but i--all mine--now all yours. the other is buried--elsewhere--oh! god--the agony! barbara--rich--rich--for life--lady--fortune--give me drink--drink--" then once more singing in a broken voice, "when money's--plenty--boys--we drink to drown--" he fell back moaning again. and so he died. chapter xxiii. the treasure house. so now i was the last of all left who had come away from the _furie_. neither of my crew nor of this dead ruffian's was there any one to tell the tale but i. a strange ending indeed to such a flight and such a chase. the dead pirate lay upon his back, the blood from his wound trickling down to mix with the spirit from the overturned cask. the box of treasure lay at my feet, and, if his dying words were true and not spoken in his madness, beneath my feet was a vast treasure. but ere i thought of that, there were many other things to do. firstly, and before all, there was rest to be obtained. i had scarcely had any for three days--namely, none in the galliot since we were awaked in our little isle near the reef by the firing of the _furie's_ guns; and but an hour or so only before the murder of winstanley, the diver. that was all, and now i could scarcely move for fatigue. i must sleep e'en though i died for it. only where should i obtain it? accustomed as i was to rough surroundings, to fightings and slaughter after many years of a sailor's life, this hut with its loathsome dead inhabitant and owner was too horrible and disgusting for me to find rest in it. i could not sleep there! yet again, neither would i go far away. "the hut," the dying villain had said, "was a treasure house"; he had told the imaginary barbara--who was she, i wondered, who seemed to have been the centre of such tragedies?--that she was the heiress to great wealth contained within it, or beneath it; i must guard that hut with my life. especially, i reflected, must i do so since he had thought me to be "martin come back from the isles with the sloop." if, therefore, this was not also part of his ravings, he was expecting some such person, doubtless a brother pirate--at any moment i might have to defend the place against another ship's crew of scoundrels. yet i must sleep. i could do nought until i had rested, but i knew that when such a rest had been obtained, i should feel strong enough to, or at least endeavour to, hold my own. i must sleep! at last i made up my mind what i would do. the door of the hut, i had learned by my mode of progression, faced to the west, therefore i would close the door, lay myself along outside it, so that the morning sun, now near at hand as i guessed, should not disturb me, and thereby get rest as well as being a guard over the "treasure house." so, loading and priming my pistols carefully--as well as two of alderly's which i took off his body, and which, in his madness, he had without doubt forgotten he possessed--and placing my cutlash by my side, i once more lay down to sleep. undisturbed, i must have enjoyed some hours' repose, for when i awoke the daylight was all around me; the wood outside was bathed in the rich sunshine, though i was sheltered from the rays by the hut; the tiny hum-birds were darting in and out of the many flowers about, thrusting their long bills in them to lick up the honey and the insects; 'twas a sweet spot. yet, when i arose to enter the hut, all the beauty of the morning and of nature did seem to me blackened and fouled by that abode. "now," i said to myself, "what shall i do?" and instantly i resolved that i would, to begin, make an end of alderly's carcass. so, having perceived a mattock and spade a-lying in the corner of the place--"perhaps," thinks i, "'twas with them he did bury his treasures"--i stooped down to drag him forth into the copse where i could dig a grave for him. then, as i bent over him, i saw sparkling in his breast the diamond cross attached to the chain which he wore in many folds round his neck. i took it off him, and rubbing it and the gold chain clean from his blood, did go to the door to look at it--flashing it about to observe the sparkles of the great gems, holding it out into a dark place the better for to see it by contrast, and so on, as i had seen those do who call themselves judges of such things--which i, a poor sailor officer, could not be. and then i observed there was engraved on the back of the gold-setting some words, which i deciphered to be: "mary roase, baroness of whitefields, from her husband, bevill. anno dom. ." "well," thinks i, "this at least can scarce be from our spanish wreck. mary rose is english enough, we have had ships so named. i dare say the villain pillaged that from some descendant of the lady. if ever i got home i will see if there is any lord or lady of whitefields now." then i went forth to dig the grave, which i did three feet deep, not far off the hut, and lugging out the body--after i had still more carefully searched the clothes, and finding a few gold pieces consisting of some elephant guineas, two or three french and spanish pieces, and also some ducatoons, all in a bag--soon buried him. this done i went back to the hut, though by now i was hunger-stung and could very well have ate some food. though this was not to be yet, since i must go to the galliot to find any, his being filthy. but of drink there was a plenty--a sweet rill of cool water running hard by. there was, indeed, another tub unbroached in the corner of the place, but i cared not to drink of the ruffian's provision; why, i know not, since i did not disdain to take his jewels and money. yet so it was, and i left it alone, drinking only of the water and laving myself in it. "and now for the long box," i said; "let us see what they have robbed us of." for that the box contained what they had gotten up from our wreck i did never doubt. yet, as you shall see, i was mistaken. i do not now believe, nor did i shortly then, that what that box contained had ever been any portion of our stolen treasure. i burst it open very easy with the mattock and there i found a rich harvest; so that, indeed, the hut was a treasure house when only it had that box within. now, this is what i did find, and the list which i here give you (with the valuations against the items by him) is a just and fair copy of that which i did show to mr. wargrave, the jeweller and goldsmith of cornhill (now retired very rich), when i had gotten home again:-- _list with mr. wargrave, his valuation_. _gs_. two small bags of pearls, weighing with other pearls therein under fifteen grains, as i judged from others shown me by mr. w. , one great pearl wrapped in a piece of damask brocade, six-eighths of an inch in its diameter, as i did measure. , another, the size of a pigeon's egg, full of most lustrous sheen, wrapped in a piece of deerskin , a little bag of sapphires, nine in all. some turkish pieces of gold about the size and weight of our shillings, twenty-one in all. these i put in my pocket and did sell afterwards in portsmouth for some silver pieces, too cumbersome to carry and left with other things, perhaps a little bar of gold two pistols beautifully inlaid and chased with silver, having engraved thereon the name "marquis de pontvismes," and date a portrait of a girl done as a medallion, with blue eyes, red gold hair, and a sweet mouth; perhaps this was barbara! no value for selling. a child's coral; also a child's shoes; also a lock of long hair, wheat coloured, wrapped in silk. no value for selling. and a dagger set with little diamonds and rubies, the blade rusted very much _____ , _____ i pondered much over these things, for, as i have writ, i am very sure they never came out of the sunken galleon. there was no sign of wet having got near unto the box or its contents, which must have been the case had it been fished up from that wreck, and therefore i thought to myself, this has perhaps been stolen on some cruise they were upon between the time they left their boat at our little isle and then came back to the reef, thinking not to find us, or any, there. yet this would not do, neither, for their snow was no fighting ship--not, i mean, a ship fit to attack another carrying treasure, which would be extremely well armed--and she had _not_ fought till we got at her in the river. that i knew from the wounds and damage, when i boarded and searched her, being quite fresh and made by us. nor, again, could i deem this box to have been the proceeds of a recent thieving expedition or attack on some sea-coast town or place, for there were not enough men in the _etoyle_ to have adventured such a thing. they might have attacked a lonely house, or, as the spaniards call it, a _villa_, in one of the many islands of this caribbean sea, or on the main land of terra firma, yet this i also doubted, for the contents of the box pointed a different way. the girl in the medallion looked english by her hair, eyes, and colour; the pistols were a frenchman's. moreover, the box, the lid of which was all covered with beads pasted on to its lid and worked in many forms of flowers, was likewise english (my mother had just such an one), and to prove for certain 'twas so, inside the lid was the name of the workman who made it, "bird, falmouth." so at last my conclusion was this, viz., that alderly valued the box for some reason of his own, perhaps desired always to have some goods with him that at any crisis he could transform into money, and therefore carried it about with him wherever he went. i never learned that this was so, no more than that it was not so, and now i quitted thinking how it came to be with him. perhaps i judged right, perhaps wrong. but of one thing i am very sure, he had none of our treasure with him. the casket which did doubtless contain that treasure, which must have been of precious stones alone judging by its size, was of a certainty dropped overboard either before we beat them, or at the last moment of defeat. at least, i never did see any of the treasure, though in going to find it i found a greater. but this you will read ere i conclude, as i hope soon to do. i am coming anigh the end. thinking that "martin with the sloop," or some other wretches, might be returning, i next proceeded to bury for a time the box, which i did by taking it out into the copse and dropping it into a great hollow cotton-wood tree growing near, which i marked well in my mind's eye. then, next, i set off down to the galliot, for now i wanted food so badly that i could no longer go without it. i had but little fear of any getting up to the hut unbeknown to me, since, with a seaman's ideas to help me, i concluded that the canal, or channel, or river, as, indeed, it was, offered the only safe inlet to coffin island. so if they came they must come the way i was a-going, when i could know it and either avoid or encounter them as seemed best. however, i met none on my way down, and found both the _etoyle_ and my ship just as i had left them, and the boat tied to the tree, also as i had left it. then i went aboard the galliot, and finding some food and drink, set to work to stay my cravings. there was none too much, i found, to last long, though as the men had cooked the fish and birds they were still fresh enough. also there was flour, and bread already made, and some peas, while, for the water, it was nearly all there. the fruit was quite rotten and not to be eaten, but this mattered not at all, since, on coffin island, i had perceived several kinds growing with profusion, amongst others many prickly pears. and now, as i made my meal, i marked out in my mind what i should do to draw matters to a conclusion. and this i decided on. "it is a treasure house," alderly had said of his hut, therefore, firstly, i had got to explore that house, hoping to find therein as much if not more than we had been robbed of. then when phips and i met again, as i hoped we might, he should decide about that treasure, and what was to be done with it. but first to find it. yet, even as i thought this there came to me another reflection--viz., that i could not carry it away with me. the galliot would take me to a neighbouring island inhabited by my own people, but an officer alone in such a vessel, with no hands to work it but himself, must necessarily lead to much talk and the asking of many questions--how many more would be asked if that officer were accompanied by boxes and chests of great weight? therefore, that would never do! i must get away alone, leaving the treasure--if i found any more than i had already gotten--somewhere secure, and then i must come back again for it, properly fitted out. or, if i could reach phips ere he quitted the reef, we could come back together in the _furie_, take off the goods and so home with no need for further voyagings out and in. and, on still reflecting, this was what i had a mind to do. the reef was not a long way off; a day and night would take me there, with a favourable wind. only i must provision the galliot somehow; i must not go to sea thus; but then i remembered, this was easily to be done if i swallowed my squeamishness. the _etoyle_ was full of food and drink--the former coarse but life-sustaining--if i took that as i took its owner's hordes, then i could get away. only, first i had to find the treasure, then dispose of it safely. after that i might go at once. indeed, if fortune still kept with me, as she had ever done of late, i might be away from this island within another thirty hours. and so thinking, i finished my repast and set about what i had to do. chapter xxiv. what was in the treasure house. now, the first thing was for me to get into the _etoyle_, and bring a fair provision of food and drink, and then, i thought, i would sink her, or, at least, would get her ready for sinking, so that she, at any rate, should never go on any more evil cruises. this was, however, to be done later. i went aboard her, therefore, directly i had made my meal, and brought off from her some boucan, about ten pounds; some dried neats', or deer, tongues, a good amount of powdered chocolate, and some boxes of sweetmeats--the villains seeming to have a dainty taste!--and also i brought away some bottles of calcavella, a portygee sweet wine, and a small barrel of rum. and also did i take away some cakes of bread, now very hard and stale, but which, by damping with fresh water and then placing in the sun, became once more eatable. likewise i provided myself with some of their powder and bullets, not knowing what use i might yet have for such things on the island, or when i was away to sea again. this _etoyle_ was indeed a strangely laden bark, full of the most varied things the minds of men could well conceive, and had it been possible--which 'twas not, being without assistance--i would have had her taken to one of the west indy isles, and her contents there sold. she had in her, to wit, elephants' teeth and tusks, and some gold dust--though not much of any, neither--which spoke to me clearly of some robbings on the guinea coast, also some fine english cloths, silk druggets and hollands, many packs of whole suits of clothes for wearing; some mantuas, a box of lace, another of ribands (again i thought of the mysterious barbara!), pieces of fine silk duroys and some norwich stuffs, as well as vast masses of tobacco. indeed, i thought, this snow might have visited half the world for her cargo--had i not very well known, or guessed, that 'twas all stolen out of various other ships. it took me some time shifting all that was necessary for my forthcoming voyage--leaving, you may be sure, much behind in the _etoyle_--and then ladening myself with some provisions for the hut, i prepared to depart back to it. yet now more counsel came to me. supposing, thinks i, that while i am away at the hut, martin with his sloop, or some similar villains, should come into the river! why! they would at once see all! the _etoyle_ they would perceive a battered craft--and doubtless they knew her very well--and they would see the strange galliot. this would not do, therefore i must devise some means if i could, not only to remove all marks of our fray, but, if it might be so, to prevent anyone entering the river at all. then, at last, i decided what i would do. first of all i took the galliot down out of the river to the sea, and, with a light sail up, i got her to a little cove a third of a league away from the mouth, in which i moored her; and this cove had such projecting spurs that none passing outside would be very like to see her. indeed, one would have to pass close by the opening of it to do so at all. then, getting to the boat again, i rowed me back to the river. next i brought down the snow to the mouth, moored her fast across it, it being not more than forty to fifty yards at the opening and about fifteen fathoms deep, as i did plumb, and going below i bored a many holes in her sides and bottom so that she began to fill at once, and in half an hour i, who was a-watching from my boat, saw her settling down so that, at last, there was no more of her above water, her masts, as i have writ, being shot away. "now," says i, "if martin and his sloop come in and draw much water, 'tis almost a certainty that they shall go foul of some part of the fabric, which may do me a very good turn--if not, then must i take my chance against them," with which i again prepared for the hut. that day i did very little work, though so great was my desire to dig into and find the contents of the "treasure house" that i could scarce take my necessary rest. yet i mastered myself so much that i forced myself to sleep, determining to work at night when it was cool. so i lay me down on the east side of the place this time, the sun having by now gotten to the west, and slept well, awaking not until night was at hand. now, amidst all my precautions, 'twas strange to think i had forgotten one thing. i had made no provision for any light at night. the lamp knocked over by the dying pirate was still there where it had fallen, 'tis true, but the oil was all spilled and i could find no other, search as i might. yet i felt convinced there must be oil somewhere, if i could but discover it. 'twas not to be conceived that alderly and the diver had this lamp with them when they plunged into the river to escape from the _etoyle_; therefore, if i sought, surely i should find. yet how to seek! the tropic darkness came on with swiftness, in a few minutes the hut was as black as a pocket; and the moon would not rise for some hours yet! well! there was no hope for it, i reflected; this night at least must be wasted, and so i made up my mind to pass it as best i might. though my reflections and memories of the previous night's scene, of alderly's drunken howls, singings, and toasts, of the spectre his maddened brain had conjured up, and of his horrid death, helped me not at all. i saw him over and over again sitting at the table, filling the cans with liquor for his imaginary guests, talking to barbara, shivering at the supposed ghost of winstanley, fighting with me--dying. and at last i got the creeps, i started at any twig that snapped outside or the cry of a night bird, and, springing up, i went forth and plunged into the thickness, where i walked about till daybreak. and in that walk i explored the whole of coffin island very nigh, and saw under the moon, when she had risen, that beyond the river there was no other entrance to it. nearly all around elsewhere were craggy cliffs to make landing almost impossible, saving only one strip of beach. away on tortola and negada i saw once or twice lights burning, and wondered what the inhabitants of those isles thought of their precious neighbours in this one--i wondered, too, if they knew or dreamed of what coffin island contained! and thus the night passed away, the dayspring came, and i went back to the "treasure house." "was it to prove such to me?" i asked myself as i made a meal off some of the provisions i had brought along with me. "was it to prove such?" the question was soon answered, as you, my unknown heir, shall now see. the floor of the hut was a mass of filth that had not been disturbed for some time, and to this had been added now the spilled liquor from the tub that alderly had flung over in his mad convulsions, as well as some of his blood where he had fallen last. this, therefore, with the previous dirt, i set to clear away with the spade, after i had removed the overturned table, the stool, and other things. and the task was not long. ere i had been cleaning the floor ten minutes, i came upon an iron ring--set into a trap-door, immediately under where alderly's chair had been placed. it was not--i mean the trap-door--very far below the surface, not indeed more than three inches, and, even as i tugged and tugged at it, i could not but ponder over the little pains taken to conceal such a hiding place. and i did wonder if, when the villain was away on some of his cruises, he had not many a fear as to whether his store was not being rifled. however, this was no time for such wonderments and speculations, actions were now all, and so again i heaved at the door. it would not lift, however, for all my pullings, so i cleared away still more earth, doing so especially round where it fitted into a frame, and at last prised it right up with the mattock. and you may be sure with what eagerness i gazed into the opening. first of all i saw that as yet i had not reached the treasure, for although the trap was no larger than to admit a man's body, there were still below it some rude steps down into the earth, which opened up at the bottom of them into what seemed to be a passage. and when i got down to the bottom of those steps, i saw very well that there was a passage, or, indeed, a room cut into the earth; a place about six feet long and five feet deep, being more like a little cabin than aught else. and now i knew that i had got to what i sought; the treasure was here. there stood on the floor, and piled up one above the other, four chests, or coffers, the very workmanship of which told me they must be old. certainly, they had not been made in these days or anywheres near them. they seemed to be of oak full of little wormholes, much carved and designed, and with inscriptions on them in, i think, latin, of which i understood not one word. moreover, they had great solid locks to them as well as padlocks, but these had long since been burst open, the reason whereof 'twas not very hard to seek out. i guessed that those who took them from their rightful owners could not perhaps find the keys, and so blew them or forced them thus open. i lifted the lid of the nearest and peered in, and there the first object to meet my eyes was a grinning skull, the bone severed right across the head as though with a lusty sword cut. "well!" thinks i to myself, as i looked on this poor remnant of mortality, "well! you are indeed a strange warden of what may be herein. yet, p'raps not so strange either if all accounts of piratical doings be true." for when i was but a lad in oliver's service, and a-chasing the rovers not so very far from this spot where i now was, 'twas always said that they would slay a man and bury him over their hidden treasure, so that he or his ghost should frighten away others who would meddle with it. and so it might have been here, for, thinks i, "perhaps as i go on i shall find other parts of a dead man in the other chests." now, although 'twas daylight above, 'twas almost dark in this vault or passage, small as it was, so that i shifted the first coffer nearer to the bottom of the steps, so as to get a full light upon it from above, and then i went on with my hunt, putting the death's head away for a while. beneath him, as he had lain atop, was what i took to be a piece of yellow canvas, as so it was, though on looking closer i saw that either dyed into it, or cunningly interwoven, were some flowers like our irises, and some words all over it faint with age, of which i could distinguish but the letters "ance" and "smes." then, when i lifted this up, i found that the coffer had little enough else in it but a handful or so of gold coins lying about amongst some old things, such as a pair of gloves with great steel beads on the backs and tops of the fingers, some silk cloths, a great parchment in latin--which i laid aside--and such like. the gold coins were, however, such as i did never see before, having on them a head of an old man with a great brimmed hat, and stamped on them, charles x., roi de france,[ ] . and this set me a-thinking. these coins bore the same date as the pistols, inscribed "marquis de pontvismes," and the indistinct words on the canvas cloth of "ance" and "smes" were the endings of the words france and pontvismes. what had i lighted on here? i turned it over and over in my head all that day, and many a one after that, but it was very long ere i arrived at any decision. there were twenty-seven of these coins and nothing more of any worth within that strong box, so i hoisted it away and began upon a second. and in this i found i had indeed come upon a horde. it was full of sacks or bags of coin of all sorts. sacks with their mouths gaping open wide, bags tied up, and also many loose coins all about. and _they were of all countries_ and dates, there being amongst them spanish pieces of eight, portyguese crusadoes, english crowns, and many more french coins, as well as hundreds of gold pieces of our kings and queens, away back to queen elizabeth. later that day i counted of these pieces up, and made them come to over two thousand pounds. then next, in the others, i did find as follows, on the list i enclose; all of which i do reckon, one way with another, bringeth the gross up to what i have said, namely, fifty thousand guineas. here is that list. _note.--unfortunately it was not here. reginald turned all the sheets over and over again, but could not find it. perhaps by one of those pieces of carelessness which seemed to have pervaded both nicholas's and mr. wargrave's system, it had been originally mislaid. but, however that might be, it was not at this period that the former's descendant was to learn all the items which went to make up the fifty thousand guineas.--j. b.-b_. chapter xxv. the middle key. so with this my huntings and findings were all over. i had found a fortune, while the lord only knew who would ever enjoy the spending of it, though, for one thing, i felt very sure it would not be i myself. there was no likelihood of that. i could never get it back to england, and, if i did, then 'twould at once be said that i had stolen it--either with or without phips' connivance, and that he and i were a brace of thieves. but what use to ponder on such things as these! for aught i knew i might never get back to england after all; though, somehow, there was a something in my mind which did ever tell me i should do so. meanwhile, the present was enough to occupy my attention. firstly, the night was coming on once more and still i had found no oil, so that i must now cease all labours until the next day. in truth i was ready to do so, for i was weary again by now, and another thing was also very certain, to wit, that in this hut i must take my abode. i could not go a step away with all the treasure there was here. so i placed the oblong box down into the vault along with the other goods, and then, after i had made an evening meal of some neat's-tongue and bread cake, washed down with the water from the rill, in which also i laved my face and hands, i looked to the primings of all the pistols, got out my cutlash, and, stretching myself across the top of the trap-door, i addressed myself to sleep. at first it would not come in that horrid spot; again and again i saw the form of the dying pirate and heard his yells and singings and toasts. but at last i slept peacefully until the day broke. and now i had to set about removing all the treasure from the hole where it had lain for doubtless so long--for i did not believe that alderly was the man who had obtained all this wealth, but rather that some earlier corsair than he had done so and buried it, and that alderly in some strange way had lighted on it. it was necessary that i should find a new hiding-place for it. "martin with the sloop" might--if he were indeed an actual being and not the vision of some long dead and gone comrade, perhaps of another part of the world, as i now had a mind to believe--come back at any moment, and also he might know of the buried wealth in spite of the pirate's words having been, "none know but i." for 'twas useless to give credence to any of the utterances issuing from the bemused brain of alderly--there might be no martin, or if there were he might know nothing, or, on the contrary, he might know all. at any rate, my part was to make everything safe. but how to do it? i must remove it to a hiding-place that would be always found, that should be marked in a way and manner which time could not destroy. for who could tell when it might be sought for again? i had then, or, i should rather say, i was then maturing in my mind the idea of writing down all this which i have now done--with great pain and labour to myself!--and that writing might not see the light again for twenty years, perhaps even longer. therefore, 'twas necessary the spot should be such as would never be changing, a spot which must be the same fifty years hence as it was then. consequently a tree, for instance, could not be made a landmark or indicator, for tempests might blow it to earth, or years rot it away. then i thought of a spot on which the sun should fall at a given day, hour, and minute--which, as i have heard, is the commonest way of all for persons burying treasure to mark the precise spot--only, supposing ere the time to come when the hoard should be sought for, something was builded over the spot, as might very well be if coffin island became settled, as tortola or negada and some others are? this risk, therefore, small as it might be, i would not run. still, what should i do? i must decide quickly, for if martin and the sloop were real things and not shadows they might be here at any moment, and if once my task were finished i should not mind their coming very greatly. i could, perhaps, avoid them somehow and get away, leaving the goods safe. quickly i must decide. then, as an aid to my doing so, i determined me to walk round the isle, thinking that in such a way a spot might be found suitable for my purpose. so i set forth, going armed, you may be sure. now, this daylight walk of mine about the island showed to me very many things that i had not seen on my midnight rounds, when the terrors and the ghastliness of the hut had driven me forth. i learned among other things that, not very far from the hut itself, was the little upland from which one could look down upon the whole of the isle and all the coast around it, and also i could see down into my cove where i had anchored the galliot, and did observe her lying there safe as i had left her. also i found that from this spot i could see for many miles out to sea, and observe that, at least for the present, there were no signs of my haunting fear, martin and his sloop. to the south lay tortola, anguilla, and st. martin; to the east lay negada, but away to the west nought met the eye, porto rico being out of vision. and as for those poor miserables who inhabited the two first above mentioned, if they were still alive and had not died of melancholy, they gave no signs of being so; there was no boat upon all the waters, no smoke rising from hut or cabin; nought gave evidence of the islands being inhabited but the faint lights i had seen at night. but what concerned me and my present desires most was that to the north of this, coffin island, i did see some little keys or sandy spots, covered with their weeds and bushes, lying out about a hundred yards from my island. "why not there?" thinks i, upon this. "why not one of those? 'tis now the high tide," as i took occasion to observe, "and they are above water, therefore 'tis not like they will ever be submerged, or, if even so, they will come forth again. and there are three close together; it shall be the middle one if on inspection all seems well." so, upon this, i got me down to my boat and rowed round from the side of coffin island, where the river was, to the north where the keys were, and went on to the middle one. it was, as i have said, covered with bushes and weeds, none very tall, and it being now the season there were a-many turtles on it laying of their eggs, as they will do in any unfrequented and quiet spot. "yes," says i, "this must be the place and none other," and with that i pulled away at a great bush in the middle of the key i was standing on, and on getting it up did see that the soil was nearly all sand. and again i said, "this must be the place." so i went off once more, resolving to get to work this very day, and, making a journey to the hut, i brought off the spade and mattock and the least heavy of the coffers--i mean that one that had the death in it, and when i was back on the key i began my digging at once, and the sand being extremely light i soon had got down some ten feet, so that at last i had a task to scramble out of the treasure's future grave. then i made more journeys, and, in the end, by sunset had gotten all the coffers as well as the long box on to the key. and this night i decided to sleep there, as i would not leave the goods alone until they were buried--though i do believe that, had i left them there exposed on the isle until now when i write, they would very like have remained untouched; for martin i concluded now to be entirely a myth, and as for other pirates, they would never come to such keys as this when the whole place swarmed with real islands. at sunrise i was at it again, having ate some turtle eggs for my meal--a pleasing change for me--and by midday all was done. the four coffers and the box went in one atop of each other, the uppermost one being, at its lid, three feet from the surface, and with on top of each a turtle shell, of which there were several lying about the key. these i put in also because the shells are almost imperishable, and, should the coffers decay, if they have to lie--as they may, who knows?--twenty or thirty years in the ground before this my history is found, the great shells will protect the contents somewhat, though no harm that i know of can come to coins, jewels, and so forth from a-lying in the earth. then, when all was filled up, i did most carefully arrange the place so that, if by any strange chance anyone should here land, no signs should be given of a disturbance being made. i replanted the bush over the spot; with some brushwood and scrub i removed some spare grains of sand that had been thrown up, and arranged everything as best i might, going so far as to take some turtles' eggs and place them about, so that they should give the idea--if anyone did land here--that the turtles themselves had disturbed the spot in their crawlings and creepings. and now, for your guidance, i will write down how you shall find this spot, and also will i draw as well as may be a little map. first you are to know that--as the hydrographer of his majesty's admiralty hath since informed me--negada is situated ° ' n., ° ' w.; tortola is ° ' n., ° ' w.; and coffin island is consequently, since it doth lie a little to the north of negada, as near as possible ° ' n., ° ' w. wherefore, if you make these degrees, there you shall perceive that isle, shaped as it is named, long like a coffin, thin at the foot, broad higher up, then somewhat narrow again, the foot pointing due west, the head due east. also the little upland i have spoken of riseth from the centre, perhaps one hundred and fifty to one hundred and eighty feet. then, due north of that and exactly in a line with the shoulder of the coffin-shape, there are the keys, and the middle contains the treasure. now, read again. from the north side of the middle key to the spot where i buried all the coffers and the box is fifty-one good strides of three feet each, from the south side to the same spot is fifty-three strides, from the east is forty-nine strides, from the west is fifty strides and a half. therefore, you shall not miss it if so be that, when you have taken your first measurement from the spot where you land, you stick in the ground your sword and there make, or persevere until you make, all your other strides correspond with what i have wrote down. and i have made no mistake, for three times did i go over the ground and all times did the measurements tally. do you likewise and you shall find what i did bury. now here is a little map, rough, as befits a drawing made by me, yet just and true. _______________________________________________________ | key [+ coffin isle] | | | | [* negada] | |[* porto [* tortola] [* virgin gorda] | | rico] [* anguilla] | | [* st martin] | | | | the cross marketh wherein the key with | | the treasure is. | _______________________________________________________ i shall be dead before you who find this can read it, so that, perhaps, it boots not very much that i should write down any more. yet some things i desire to tell, and some things i think it right for me to leave on record. but first let me say what was the end of my sojourn here. when i had buried all of the treasure--excepting those pieces of gold which i took away with me, not knowing where i might find myself ere i reached home--if ever--i made for the galliot. for now i had done with the hut--i never desired to see it again. however, so that no signs of disturbance or diggings should be apparent, should any come after me, i first of all covered up, on my last visit to it, the spot from whence i had taken the treasure, and, moreover, i filled in the hiding place with earth fetched from outside, and also the descent by the steps. indeed, i would have burned the place down to the ground, only that i feared to set the whole island on fire and so attract attention to my presence from the other isles. and that there should be no more digging, if i could help it, without great pains, i dropped the spade and mattock into the sea. i say that i wished to attract no attention from the isles, the reason whereof was this, which i had arrived at after many ponderings. if i were known to be there, or if i went to those isles and showed myself, i must be subject to many questionings, must explain all and my chasing of the pirate, and--who knows?--in the course of talk more might leak out than i should care for. and, therefore, i had taken a determination; i would not go near the other isles, but, boldly and without fear, directly the wind was favourable--which it was not now--i would steer for the reef once more. 'twas, i did calculate, not more than ninety miles away; the galliot could sail that very easily in two days, and, for finding the spot, why that also was very easy to be done. i could well steer a course by keeping porto rico on my larboard beam, and then, when the great hump of hispaniola's northern promontory did come into view, could find the road to the reef. from there, if phips was gone, i must to the bahamas--for i should not dare to go ashore in hispaniola now, since the news of the black's death, and geronimo's rage at being defeated of what he thought due, might lead me to trouble--and i could, perhaps, get to the inaguas. these, for there are two of that name, the great and the little, are in the windward passages, well known to navigators, very useful for putting into for refitting and watering, and belonging to our crown. yet--for so things will sometimes happen--nought went as i had forecast. and this you shall hear, after which my history is concluded--for which i devoutly thank the lord, and shall, on the sabbath after it is finished, offer up a special prayer of thanksgiving in branford church that i have been allowed to bring it to an end--and i shall then have no more to tell. chapter xxvi. nicholas leaves the island. now, when all was prepared for my setting forth and when i had gotten the galliot ready for her next cruise and had also taken in some fresh water, a small live turtle, some fruit, and all my bread and peas--now running very low--chance was against me for a while. even for three weeks the wind did blow strong from the northwest, while all the time i desired a wind from the south-east, and i began to ponder if at this season of the year it did not perhaps stay in the same quarter altogether. there was, however, nought to do but to possess my soul in patience, to keep ever a cheerful heart, and to trust in god, as all my life i have done. meanwhile, in some ways the delay was not altogether to be repined at, for i made, during it, several visits to the key in my boat and observed that now there was no sign at all of the burying i had made. the bush above the spot had taken root again at once, and was growing and flourishing, some rain storms that had come had smoothed and made solid the disturbed earth, and the turtles were laying of their eggs all around as if no human foot had ever stood upon the key. one thing alone troubled me, and that was food--or rather bread, for this was now running very short. if i did not get away soon, i should have to do without it altogether, or go seek for some in negada and tortola. yet neither, i was resolved, would i do this, but rather exist without bread at all. i was a sailor, i ever told myself, and a sailor should be able to endure all hardships. but on the twenty-second day since i buried my spoils, a change came. i was sleeping in the cabin of my galliot, when with the dawn i perceived it. the northwest wind from which i had been sheltered in my cove had never disturbed the vessel; now from her starboard side, which was to the south as she lay, there blew in a hot southern wind, waves and riplets came into the cove from that direction and lapped against her bows, and she began gently to rise and fall and heel over a little from them, as though she were a living thing, impatient to be off. "'tis come," i exclaimed, springing up. "the hour has come to bid farewell to this spot. if this wind hold forty-eight hours i shall be at the inaguas if i find not phips at the reef." the morn was not yet however, but was anigh as i stepped to the deck; the breeze sweeping up from the long line of islands to the south was a-freshening; the stars began to pale, the new moon to wane. no time could have been better for me than this quiet period before the dawn to steal away. in half an hour i was well outside the cove, the masts stepped, the sails set--and i at the helm had set forth upon my road home. 'twas a strange voyage for one alone to undertake--had there been another, or even a boy, to relieve me 'twould have been nought; but now 'twas a voyage without a compass or aught to guide me, nothing indeed to help me but the mercy of heaven, my knowledge of the sea, and my strong frame and good health. however, we slipped round coffin island a little later, and i saw for the last time the spot that held the buried treasure. the little key was visible beneath the now rising sun, the sea-birds were wheeling round and about it, and the blue water rippled on its shores. and so i took farewell of it, knowing that i should never see it any more. may you, whomsoever you may be for whom i write this narrative, find it as i left it, unharmed and untouched. may your eyes gaze upon it and find therein what i left behind when mine have long been closed in death. and now i had nought to do but steer my bark for that easterly point of hispaniola called of late cape françoy, and so i should come near to the reef, and this, since the wind was very good and not boisterous, 'twas easy enough to do. when i was weary i would lower down the sails, lash the rudder, and so take some rest--doing this, of course, by day only, since when the night came i must keep good watch--and then set sail again when refreshed, finding my course easy enough by the sun and breeze. and so the first day passed, and i did calculate that--allowing for my rest--i had left coffin island some twenty to fifteen leagues behind me, and, so that i should not pass the bajo and thereby run on to _moushoire carré_, or turk's islands, i shortened sail. yet this i need not have done neither, for in some way i had not got my calculations aright. at dawn there was no land in sight as i thought to see, so that the galliot had not sailed as i guessed, or i had missed my course. the wind, however, and the sun forbade me to think this, so i made all sail again and went on. at midday i did discover i was on the right tack; cape françoy and samana rose on my beam end, therefore i knew that by altering my course a point to the north i must strike the spot where the reef was. and this i did, judging by the sun that it was four of the afternoon when first i saw the little shoal waters over it. i know not even now if i was glad or sorry to perceive--as i did very soon--that the _furie_ was no longer there. yet i think it was the latter, for i had hoped to hear the cheery shout of phips, to see my brother officers come round me, to hear the welcomes of the men, and to be able to tell my tale. but 'twas not to be. all around the reef was as lonely as if no plate ship had ever sunk there, no attempts ever been made to get up its contents, no horrid tragedy happened such as that when phips slew the black and executed of his companion. birds flew about all over it, seeking perhaps for scraps of food where not a month ago they had found a plenty, the little waves foamed over the sunken reef where the now emptied treasure ship lay--but that was all. no! i forget. 'twas not all. as i drew near i saw sticking up from the water--as i had not been able to see before because of the flittings of the many gulls--that which looked like a jagged piece of mast, or yard of a ship, with something crosswise atop of it, and my curiosity being great i got the galliot near to it. i knew i could do this, since she had gone over the reef often enough when acting as a tender, and when 'twas done i saw that it was indeed a mast standing up endwise in the water, the lower part doubtless fixed into some crevice or hole by the diver ere the _furie_ left. and the cross-piece nailed on to the top of the mast was in the form of a big arrow rudely carved, placed so that it pointed towards where europe was, and with on it the words, "to nicholas crafer. make your way home." that was all, yet it told enough. the _furie_ had gone home with the treasure; if i was still alive i was to go too. * * * * * * let me be brief. that remaining day and night i anchored off our original little isle, took in some fresher water than i had, and caught some fishes. also i once more did cover again the bleached bones of those mutineers who had endeavoured to surprise and seize upon the _algier rose_--'twas the last time, i reflected, it would ever be done by me or any. there was no danger of losing the favourable wind by resting here for these few hours; if anything it was blowing stronger and fresher from the south-east than before. nay, when i put off in the morning for the furtherance of my course, it was blowing so much in a manner i cared not for, namely in fitful gusts followed by moments of stillness, that i doubted me if i was overwise in putting to sea again yet. moreover, the wind was almost due south by now, so that to make the inaguas i should have much more trouble and work than when sailing large and free before a favourable breeze. however, i must go, i would not be detained. indeed, i had come to hate all this region so much that, even should a chance arise in the future for me to come out and bring off all my treasure, i felt as though i should have no mind to it. phips might come an he would, and get it, but, for myself, i wanted not to come again. if the hispaniola plate had been gotten back safely, then there would be a share for me that would keep me from the wolf for the remainder of my days. it would not be wealth, but would doubtless suffice--and i had finished with the sea! though not yet. when i was two hours out from our little isle, and, as i believed, near unto _moushoire carré_, i did discover that i had been foolish to put out against so fast rising a wind. for it had now freshened into a gale due from the south, so that i had to sail close-hauled if i wanted to pass that place in safety, and also turk's islands. nor even a little later was this possible, as it blew more and more. i could no longer manage both sails and helm. so now i had to take down most all my sail excepting the foresail to steady the galliot, and to put her head before the wind, abandoning of my course altogether. and not long afterwards the storm had become a furious one, the whole heavens were obscured, the sea rose horribly--i saw at this moment a picaroon in distress a little way off me, and shortly go down--and my galliot did seem to be doomed. and now i never thought but that i had reached my journey's end, that all was over with me. huge seas swept over the bows, the vessel soon began to fill with water, she rolled and tossed from side to side so that i could not keep my feet, and then i heard a crash, i saw the mainmast falling swiftly towards me, i felt a blow that shot a thousand stars from my eyes, and i knew no more. * * * * * * when i again recovered of my senses i understood not at first where i was, excepting that i was lying in a berth in a dark cabin, that all my head was swathed in cloths, and that standing near me was an elderly man, regarding me attentively. "where," i asked, "am i! this is not the galliot." "so," he replied in my own tongue, "you are an englishman! we thought by the build of your galliot that you were a dutchman. who and what are you?" "lieutenant crafer, late of his majesty's navy, and late first lieutenant of the _furie_, captain phips. what ship is this?" "his majesty's _virgin_ prize, a -gun frigate, captain john balchen. homeward bound. you should know this officer, lieutenant crafer." "very well," i answered. "we have served together. yet 'tis not strange if he knows not me, no razor has touched my face for many weeks." and so it was that i found myself bound to england in a king's ship, having for her captain a man whom i had been at sea with ere now, when he was my subaltern. that i told him all as regards the treasure you are not to suppose; that secret was locked in my own breast, to be divulged to one only, phips. but i did give him a very fair and considerable history of much that we had gone through, and, living with him in his cabin and at his table, you may be sure that we had many talks on the subject of the sunken plate-ship. "yet," said he often, "i misdoubt me if king james will be there to take his tenths when phips gets the _furie_ home. the people will endure him but little longer--he is now an avowed papish--and already there are whisperings of putting one of his daughters in his place. if 'twere mary all would be well, since she is married to a staunch protestant, though the country would scarce accept him, too, i think." yet, as you will see by later day history, james was still there when i got back. and this i did on lady day in the year of our lord , the _virgin_ prize making portsmouth a month after she picked me up, a corpse as they first thought, from the deck of the galliot, which was cast off after i was rescued. it seemed from their calculations and mine that i must have been met with some hours only after i was struck down, and at first they thought i had been attacked by the picaroon--which ships are generally full of thieves--which they had been a-chasing. so, in this way, i came back from my second voyage to the wrecked spanish plate ship, and put my foot once more on my native land at portsmouth hard. and now but a few words more and i have done. chapter xxvil the narrative ends. 'twas at the navy tavern at portsmouth that i learned that phips had preceded me home but a fortnight, that he had sailed to the downs with the _furie_ and all her contents, and that, most faithful to his word, he had sent a letter for me. in it he said that he prayed to god i might some time or other get back safe to england--and that, if he should be gone away again, he would charge himself to leave my share of the sale of the treasure in safe keeping, of which i should be advised both by a letter to the admiralty directed for me, and also by another to this tavern. likewise, he said, he trusted that i had been able to come up with that most uncommon rogue and villain, alderly, that i had taken vengeance of him for his treachery, and that i had recovered whatever i might find he had stolen from the plate ship. and if, he said, i had been enabled to bring that stolen wealth back with me, then i was to communicate with his grace of albemarle--supposing him, phips, gone--who should see that it was properly directed to the right quarters. so there was now nought for me to do but to make for london myself, after i had slept one night in the old town, changed a few of the gold pieces i had taken off alderly ere i buried him, and bought me a fair decent change of clothes in which to travel and appear in london. and in fifteen hours i was there from the time of my setting out, and once more ensconced in an inn i had heretofore patronised, namely, "the blossoms," in lawrence lane, cheapside. the finding of phips after this was by no means difficult; even at the inn they had heard of his arrival: they told me, indeed, that there was much commotion both on change as well as in court and naval circles at the amount of treasure he had brought home with him; while--says my hostess to me-- "might you, sir, be the gentleman they say he left behind to chase those cruel, wicked pirates who had stolen part of the treasure he did find?" i answered that i was indeed that officer, whereon she told me that the town talked much about me, that even some of the journals had written discourses upon my having gone off to chase pirates in nought but a ship's boat--as they termed it--and that it would be a fine thing for the gentry who produced those sheets when they should hear that i was safe back so very little a while after phips himself. however, i wanted to see phips himself, and this i very soon did, finding of him by presenting myself at the duke's house, where i noticed a most extraordinary bustle going on, and discovered that his grace was just about to proceed to jamaica to take up the governorship thereof. poor man! he did but enjoy it a year, all of which time he was thinking of nought but finding new treasure round about that island, and then at the end of that his bottle took him off. however, 'tis the present i have to tell of, and will, therefore, but say that, ten minutes after my announcement, the duke came to me. "now," said he, greeting me, "this is the joyful day, lieutenant crafer; i do indeed rejoice to see you back safe and sound, and so will phips. he is hard by--he shall be sent for." whereon he ordered a man to go to the lodgings and to tell sir william phips that lieutenant crafer was gotten home safe and sound. "sir william phips!" i exclaimed. "sir william! so! has he come to such honour as that?" "he hath, indeed," laughed the duke, who seemed more jolly now than when we went out with the _furie_--perhaps his new appointment making him so--"he hath, indeed. the king seemed so well pleased with his tenth that he insisted on knighting our friend, and hath even silenced those wretches of the city who say that--that phips, and--well, no matter." "what do they say, my lord duke?" i asked, though i could very well guess. "oh! 'tis nothing, a trifle! and, since neither the king nor i believe it, not to be considered." "i can imagine what they say, your grace," i exclaimed. "it is that we have feathered a nest somewhere--that all has not been brought home that was found. yet, 'tis not true----" "tush, man, tush!" interrupted the duke. "who shall think it is?" "it is not true," i went on. "every farthing's worth phips got he brought home, i will swear--while as for what alderly stole from the plate ship, why, they sunk it when we boarded them." "man alive!" exclaimed the duke, "who doubts it? i do not, who am the chief concerned, nor will the king hear a word. see, here is a testimony i mean to give to phips. a gold cup i have had made out of a thousand pounds' worth of the treasure. 'tis for his wife in boston, now lady phips, to whom he hath sent out instructions to buy a fine brick house to live in. for, you must know, the king hath promised him the governorship of massachusetts as soon as it falls vacant, when he will be settled for life." i regarded the cup, very costly and beautiful, engraved, "from christopher, duke of albemarle, to his trusty friend, sir william phips," while the duke bade his servant bring us a tankard, and at that moment in came sir william himself hot haste to see me. * * * * * * "no," he said to me that night, as we sat at wine in his lodgings hard by the strand, "no, nick, that hidden treasure is yours, and yours alone. it belongs not to our providers here, nor does any share pertain to me. you it was who found it, you it was who had all the risk in going to find it. it shall be yours and yours only, since none other of the galliot's crew are now in existence. only," he went on, "as now you are provided for, i would leave it there awhile. say, for another generation. for if you go and dig it up now, then will the merchants say that they spoke truly when they accused us of robbing them." "i shall never go to dig it up," i said, "i will go to sea no more. the duke tells me there is four thousand pounds for me at sir josiah child's--'tis enough to do very well for my life. i will buy me a little house somewhere, and an annuity from some nobleman with the rest." "and," went on sir william, "in that little house find out a hiding place, and leave therein a full description of where your treasure is, so that those who come after you shall, if they care to be at the trouble thereof, discover a fortune. you will be marrying now, nick, perhaps?" "nay," said i, "i think not. never now! once when my heart was young and fresh i did love a sweet young girl--she was the daughter of a retired officer of oliver's, and they dwelt at kew--but the smallpox ravaged the land and took her from me. i find myself thinking of her often now; perhaps 'tis because the time is drawing near when i shall see her again, as young and fair as she was in those bygone, happy days; but i shall never have a wife." "poor nick, poor nick," said phips, laying his great hand very gently on my shoulder. "poor nick. so you have had your romance too. ah, well! so have most men." then a little later he said, "you know i go out again with sir john narborough--i cannot rest quietly at home in boston till my rule begins in massachusetts--we shall be near your little key--shall i go and dig your spoil up? i would do it most faithfully for you, nick, as you know." "no," i answered, after pondering awhile. "no, not unless you will do so and take it, or some of it, for yourself." "that," said he, "i will never do. not a stiver, not one coin. 'tis all yours." "then let it lie there," said i, "for those who shall come after me. there is one other crafer left in hampshire, a country gentleman, who has perhaps some children now. it shall be theirs when i am gone if they choose to search for it." so we parted for the last time, not without tears in our eyes, we having been so much to each other for so long that we could not easily say farewell. as for him, he went on his cruise with sir john narborough, but, as he after wrote me, he found nothing. and then the time came for him to take up his rule in his own land, which he did wisely and well, and perhaps because of his old belief in sooth-sayers, and wizards, and geomancers--and, indeed, the knave i have writ of did tell his fortune most wondrously, even to his becoming a ruler though not a king--he spared many in new england who would have been barbarously entreated otherwise. and he took with him a fine gold medal, which the now fast falling king had had struck in honour of his finding the galleon's wreck, having on it the words _semper tibi pendeat hamus_, which the curate of mortlake did afterwards translate for me as meaning, "may thy fishing always be as good to thee." it bore on it a supposed drawing of the _furie_, but none too accurate, though near enough. of the treasure the duke took £ , , his majesty's tenth was something under £ , , but not much, and the merchants got many of them £ , to £ , , for every £ they had adventured. this is speaking roundly, as i have heard sums of more and less mentioned in connection with all concerned. phips's share, as he told me, was £ , , and would have been more had he not out of his own purse paid to a-many of the seamen some sums which the merchants withheld from them. cromby's old mother was dead, i found on inquiring, so that i could do nothing there. now, 'twas some six years afterwards, and when james had been gone nigh that time to france, that phips wrote to me he was a-coming to england and hoped among others to see me. yet, alas! we never met again. i was at this time sore troubled with gout and rheumatism--though, i thank god, much of both have passed away--and i could not, therefore, go to see him. nor, neither was he ever able to come to me. he had not been in london many days when he catched a cold, and this turning to a fever he died. and he was buried in the church of st. mary woolnoth, where, when i was recovered, i went and said a prayer above his tomb. why should i write a funeral sermon on him for those who never knew him? suffice, therefore, if i say that he was honest, manly, and god-fearing, and a better man did never live. to me, his subaltern, he was ever kindly, gentle, and friendly, very courteous, yet also, when we came to know each other, very brotherly; and to conclude, i loved him. no need to say more. now i have done. almost all the evenings of four months it hath taken me to write this story down--i beginning of it in the bleak cruel nights of winter, and ending of it when the leaves are pushing forth. and i have written as truly as i know how, telling no lies, and trying also very hard to make my story understandable to whomso'er shall come across it. my house--which i bought here, because 'twas across the river in years agone i used to wander with the girl i loved so dear, and because i can see the paths where we walked when i arise from my bed every morning--i shall leave to a crafer for ever, so that some day, if the line dieth not out, one of that name must find the clue. that it shall be a crafer i do earnestly hope, but if not it cannot be helped. and in conclusion all i will now say is, that i do pray that whosoever readeth this narrative, and whosoever afterwards shall find the buried treasure on the little key, he will use it well and nobly, devoting some part of it, if not all, to god's service. amen. nicholas chafer. _the search by reginald crafer_. chapter xxviii. off to the virgin isles. the passengers by the royal mail steamer, especially the younger and fairer members thereof, felt an emotion of genuine regret when reginald crafer left the ship at antigua, there to make the connection with the company's vessel, the _tyne_, which runs to anguilla and tortola fortnightly. for like so many, nay, almost all naval officers with but few exceptions, reginald possessed those manly and pleasant graces which soon endear a stranger to any number of persons among whom he may happen to be thrown; and ere the steamer--crowded with tourists of the better class who were avoiding the rigour of our winter by a tour in the west indian islands--had been a week out of southampton, he had made himself a general favourite. of course he could dance--when did a sailor ever exist who could not?--also he could sing; he had seen much of the world and he was good-looking. let anyone who has been on an ocean trip say if these accomplishments and charms are not sufficient to at once make a man popular in the community assembled on such an occasion. and also there was about him some slight tinge of mystery, some little reticence on his part, as to what he wanted or desired to do at anguilla or tortola, which added a flavour to the manner in which this handsome young officer was regarded. for at either of these islands there is nothing for a man to do at all, unless he should desire to pass his life in breeding herds of goats, cows, or sheep, or in fishing, or rearing poultry, or cultivating a little cotton or sugar. and certainly reginald crafer did not seem to be a man of that sort. "it can't be to see the bloomin' islands," said a bagman on board who was not a favourite, though possessing vast information about the locality, derived from visiting the whole of the gulf of mexico and the caribbean sea on business, "because there's nothing to see, and as a naval officer i'll bet he's seen enough islands. and it can't hardly be a gal." "scarcely, i should imagine," said a stately young lady, by whom, as by others, this person's remarks were not much appreciated, "since i believe there are few gentlemen or ladies there except the consuls and their families. nor do i see that lieutenant crafer's business is your affair or mine," whereon she turned on her heel and left him. meanwhile reginald, who, perhaps, was not unconscious of the curiosity he had raised, though taking no notice of it, had plenty to think of as well as having always to keep a guard upon his tongue. indeed, it would not be saying too much if the announcement was made that the discovery of nicholas crafer's statement had produced a total change, not only in this young man's method of life, but also in his mind. when he had finished the perusal of that statement (which, you may remember, he began one november afternoon) another day had come; a foul, murky, fog-laden atmosphere was doing duty for the dawn. the river reeked with it, and so did the fields across the thames. also the fire had gone out now, though he had made it up several times during the night, the lamp had consumed nearly the last drop of oil in its glass bowl, and he could hear his old housekeeper and general servant shuffling about upstairs as though preparing to begin the day. and his eyes were wet with tears--tears which the last page or two of that finely-written, often misspelt, and sometimes nearly illegible manuscript had caused to spring to them. for to him, young and impressive--though as yet his heart had never been fairly touched by love's rose-tipped wings--there seemed a sadness inexpressible in the story of his ancestor's love for the daughter of one of oliver's officers who had died so young, and of the manner in which he had bought the house, so that daily, when he arose, the first place to meet his eyes should be the spot where they had walked together in those long-forgotten years. "poor old nicholas!" he thought, as he went to the french windows and drew the heavy curtains that protected the room from the river's damp, and peered across that river to the other side; "poor old nicholas! it was there you used to walk with her when you were both young. it was there, when you had grown old and she had long since gone and left you, that you used to gaze and dream of her. and," he went on, as he turned back into the room, "it was here, in this very spot, two hundred years ago, that you sat night by night writing that story alone, as i this night have sat alone and read it. i almost wonder that your ghost did not come forth and stand at my elbow, and peer over my shoulder at your crabbed, crooked handwriting as i did so." he dropped the manuscript in his pocket as he finished his meditations and, going upstairs, met the old housekeeper coming down. "lawks, mr. reginald!" she said with a start, "what a turn you give me! whatever have you got up so early for?" "i have not been to bed yet, maria," he said, "but i am going now." then, observing her look of astonishment and the shaking of her head--perhaps she thought he had been wassailing in london and had only just come down by the early train--he said, "i have been engaged all night over some family papers. call me at twelve and get some breakfast ready by then. i shall go to town directly afterwards. and, maria, i shall be going abroad again soon; you will have the house all to yourself once more." "ha!" she said, with a grunt; "well, who's afraid? i ain't, neither of ghostes nor burgulars, tho' we had one----" but reginald was on his way to bed before she had finished her oration. "the first thing to be done," he thought to himself, as he splashed about in his bath after that five hours' sleep--which was enough for him, since it was more than a watch below--"is to get a promise from the first sea lord, on the ground of 'urgent private affairs,' that i shall not be called upon to serve for another year. if i can manage that, then off i go to coffin island and dear old nick's treasure. lord bless me! how i would like to have known nick--as phips called him." there had come into the young man's heart as he read that paper a feeling which, i suppose, often comes into the hearts of most of us who have ever had ancestors--the feeling that we would like to have known them, to have seen them and to have shaken hands with them, observed the quaint garb they wore, and listened to their quaint speech. so it was now with reginald. he would have liked to have heard nicholas tell the story instead of having read it, would like to have stood by his side when he fought the _etoyle_, to have been by him when the drunken and delirious pirate died singing his song, to have accompanied him on that solitary voyage when he kept--good honest man!--a cheerful heart and trusted to his god alone to watch over him. "i wonder whose treasure it was that he found?" the young man meditated--"not alderly's, at any rate. the pirates never buried their treasure, though the story-books say they did, but rather took it with them to their favourite haunts to spend in a debauch. even alderly was doing that at the time nicholas captured him; he had his box with him, full of ready money for spending purposes. and those others, those antique coins, those jewels and precious things, what were they? buried, perhaps, by some french refugee who had been cast away on coffin island and found by alderly, or stolen from some french treasure ship by an earlier pirate than alderly, yet still found by him. shall i ever know?" but, whether he would ever know or not was a matter of very small importance to reginald crafer, in comparison with the fact that he was going to find them again himself, if he possibly could. for that they should not lie any longer in the middle key above coffin island than it would take him to go and fetch them, he was very firmly resolved. "the key isn't likely to have shifted," he reflected, "nor to have become entirely covered by the sea for good and all. and if it has, why, science has advanced a bit since the days of nicholas, and we will have it out. the treasure has been found twice as it has been buried twice--once by its original owner, as i believe, and once by nicholas; i'll make the third finder. there's luck in odd numbers!" and remembering his latin, of which he had a better knowledge than his sailor relative had had, he murmured, "_numero deus impare gaudet!_" the first sea lord proved kind, perhaps because reginald was a young officer who had done well and was favourably known already, besides having once served in his own flag-ship and come under his notice; and though he hummed and hawed a little at first, and talked a good deal about the shortness of lieutenants, and so many being required to be called out for the naval man[oe]uvres, and so on, at last said that he thought he might promise that lieutenant crafer's services should not be asked for for another year. then, next, the young man bought a chart of the caribbean sea, and, as the charts of to-day are rather better than they were in the elder crafer's time, he found coffin island marked very plainly, though still not named, thereon; and he also saw the three keys dotted on it. "so that's all right and comfortable," reginald said to himself, whereon he at once made all his plans for going on his search, and, as has been told, had by now arrived at antigua, whence the _tyne_ goes fortnightly to tortola and anguilla. yet, when he had settled down here to wait for that vessel's sailing--which would not be for another forty-eight hours--he scarcely knew how he should set about his work. coffin island might be inhabited by now, for all he knew, though judging by the little knowledge possessed of it by any of the _personnel_ of the ship in which he had come out, it did not appear very probable that it was. nobody on board that ship could say whether it was occupied or not, most of the officers, indeed, being a little hazy as to where coffin island was. however, by the next day he had gained one piece of information which might or might not be true, but that, if the former, was likely to throw some difficulties in his way. he had learnt that there were inhabitants--as his informant believed, though he wouldn't be certain--on the island; for that there was such a place as coffin island was very well known in antigua, if not in the royal mail steamers. he had encountered as he lounged about the hotel in st. john's--which is the capital of antigua,--one of those busy gentlemen who are to be found in almost every part of the world to which strangers come and go: an american. this worthy person, who was young, tall, and dandified, having in his "bosom" a beautiful diamond pin, addressed reginald the first moment he saw him with such a flood of offers and questions as almost stunned him; yet so long was the flow of oratory that it gave him time to collect his thoughts and be wary. "if," said mr. hiram juby, as he handed out a big card with that name on it, "you are thinking of settling here, i can be of assistance to you. though, if you're buying land, i should scarcely recommend antigua. it is not very remunerative and not cheap. now, in dominica, which has no export duties, sir, crown land can be obtained for two dollars and a half an acre. trinidad is five dollars, st. lucia five; tobago, also without export duties, is two and a half. i am also an agent for the united states governmental insurance company, patronised and insured in by the first families of the----" "i am not thinking of buying any land, mr. juby," reginald said, quietly. "then you must be a tourist. therefore, you will want to know the best hotels. now there is----" "i shall stay at no hotels," reginald again replied. "stay at no hotels! then you are perhaps going to camp out. if so, i have the agency for some of the best united states tents, utensils, rifles and guns, hickory fishing-rods, and so forth. sir, will you take a cocktail, or shall we try a dish of mangrove oysters? or, if you are a conchologist, mineralogist, or botanist, i should like to show you some collections i have for sale which would save you much labour and classification----" "sir," said reginald, "i am none of those things! i am a sailor amusing myself with a visit to this lovely spot. i want nothing," and he turned on his heel. "stay, sir, stay, i beg," mr. juby said, going after him as he left the verandah. "you are a sailor visiting this lovely spot, and you want nothing i can supply you with! why, sir, i have the very thing for you--a thing that would have suited nobody but a sailor. i have a little thirteen-ton cutter yacht--it belonged to sir barnaby briggs--your countryman, sir, who died of drink, so they said, not i, in guadaloupe--but then these french will say anything but their prayers. and i will let it you, sell it to you, furnish it for you, find you a sailor man or so----" "what," said reginald, interested now, for he thought perhaps here was the best way of all in which to visit coffin island--"what do you want for the hire of it?" but before even these terms could be arranged, mr. juby insisted--and he would take no denial--that they should be discussed over the most popular drink in all the west indian islands, a cocktail; so on to the verandah they went to partake of one. and it was among the various acquaintances to whom mr. juby--in thorough american fashion--insisted on "presenting" reginald, that he learnt that coffin island was inhabited. chapter xxix. drawing near. "the virgin isles," exclaimed one of these acquaintances as he spat on the ground after swallowing his cocktail at a gulp, "the virgin isles! why, darn the virgin isles! what can you do there, young fellow, 'cept go fishing? that is, unless you are a dane or else a dutchman "--by which he meant a german--"then you might trade a bit." but here mr. juby, who didn't quite approve of his new client being called "young fellow," explained that he was a gentleman who had neither come to settle nor travel, but only to see the place generally. also, he informed him, as if the whole thing was settled--which it wasn't--that mr. crafer had hired the late sir barnaby briggs's yacht from him and was going to make some tours in it. "oh!" said the other, scraping the frozen sugar off the rim of his empty glass as he spoke, and sucking it off his finger--"oh! if that's all, he's welcome enough to go to the virgin isles if he wants to. i thought he wanted to shove some dollars into coco-growing or liberian coffee. a tourist, eh?" "that's all," said reginald, "only a tourist." "well! there's good enough sailing round the virgin isles or any others in these parts, if you want to sail; but i thought mr. juby said you were a sailor. now, if you are, what do you want to go sailin' about for? isn't dry land good enough for a sailor off duty?" "do you know the virgin islands?" asked reginald, not caring to notice the man's cantankerous disposition. "know 'em! i guess i do know 'em! all the lot. and not one worth a red. which do you particular want to see?" "all of them," replied reginald. "perhaps tortola in particular." "tortola! the rottenest of the lot, except, perhaps, anegada. or, p'raps i'd best say coffin island. that is about the--there! well!----i'll be----" "coffin island!" exclaimed reginald, now very wary. "that's a sweet name! what sort of a place is that?" "kinder place fit to go and die in, to just roll yourself up in and kick. kind of a dog's hole, covered with palm trees, gros-gros, moriches and all, spanish baggonets and sich like. a place as is all yellow and voylet and pink and crimson with flowers, and smells like a gal's boodwar," (this was an awful mouthful for him, but he got it out safely), "though i don't know much about gals' boodwars neither. my daughters ain't got none." "it must be lovely," reginald said quietly. "love--ly!" the man echoed. "love--ly! bah! there ain't five pounds' trade in it a year. the oranges and guavas ain't worth fetching when you can get 'em in the other places without half the trouble, nor more ain't the nutmegs. likewise, it's chock-a-block full of tarantula spiders and centipides." "in such a case i suppose it is uninhabited," reginald hazarded. "well, no it ain't, not altogether," the other replied. "leastways, that's to say partly. there's a fisher fellow lives there when he ain't nowheres else, and he's got a son and a darter. they've been a living there for over a cent'ry, i've heard tell." "what!" exclaimed reginald and juby together while others round who had been listening to the discourse burst out laughing. "for over a cent'ry and more," the man went on, "this fellow bridges' family have been living there----" "only," chimed in another man, "that ain't the name. it ain't bridges at all. it's aldridge." "no," said still a third, "it isn't aldridge neither, though something like it." "are you telling the story or am i?" exclaimed the first. "and darn the name! what do names matter?" here he was appeased by the thoughtfulness of reginald, who suggested some more cocktails round, after which he went on-- "more than a cent'ry, i've heard they've been there. you see, this family is a bit wrong in their heads, and they've got into those heads the idea that somewhere in that darned coffin island there's a mort of treasure buried----" reginald was sipping his cocktail as the man arrived at this point, and his teeth clicked involuntarily against the glass as the latter uttered the last words; but, beyond this, he did not betray himself yet it seemed to him that his heart beat quicker than before. "and, therefore, if it's to be found," the man continued, "they mean to find it. yet no one as i ever heard of, or knew, believes it's there. if it was to be got, they'd have got it before. they do say they've dug up half the island looking for it. but there, i don't know, i've never been ashore in coffin island myself." "but," said reginald, "you said just now that the man only lived there when he did not live somewhere else. does he leave his island sometimes, then?" "he does and so does the son. you see, mister, up that way the people are sailors--like yourself!--just because they can't be much else. and good sailors they are, too, as well as fishermen, so when they've got no turtle nor fish to take, as happens in some times of the year, they go off as sailors in any ship in these parts as wants hands. now, some of 'em goes down aspinwall and colon way--that there once-supposed-to-be-going-to-be-made panama canal took a lot of men down there--and some goes to the other islands, even up to jamaiky and so on. well, the old man and his son can't always just live on their stock-rearing and fishing and turtle-catching, and so off they goes too, to get a few more dollars to buy a cask of rum or something they want." "but the daughter; she cannot go as a sailor too!" "oh, no! but she can stop at home and look after the shop. and they do say that she's quite able to do it. she's a caution, i've heard." this was all the man knew, and, under the influence of the cocktails, he would have been very willing to go on telling more, had he had any further information. and, indeed, considering the distance of antigua from coffin island, it was extraordinary that he should have been able to tell so much. or, rather, it would have been extraordinary, were it not for the amount of intercourse and communication that takes place between all the numerous islands in the antilles, and the gossip that is carried backwards and forwards, and is for ever floating about among the sparse population of these, now, much-neglected places. by night reginald had changed his plans; instead of going on to tortola in the _tyne_, he had decided to hire sir barnaby briggs's yacht, the _pompeia_, from mr. juby, and to finish his journey in her. to him it seemed the wisest thing he could do. he would attract less attention at tortola as a man cruising about for a holiday in the region; and, by living on board, he would be exposed to little questioning. moreover, so good a sailor as he wanted no assistance in managing such a craft as this; in calm weather he could go about where he liked, and in bad weather shelter could be run for and reached in almost half an hour among the continuous chain of islands hereabouts. and, finally, he could work his way up to coffin island, take some observations of the strange family dwelling thereon, and see if the keys looked as if they too had been submitted to the searching process. it was a tough job, however, to bring the astute juby to terms, even over so trifling a thing as hiring the _pompeia_. at first he would hardly name the sum he wanted, and then, when that was arranged at £ a month--which, after all, was not out of the way--he made various other stipulations, more, as it seemed to reginald, for the pleasure of so making them and fussing about, than for any wonderful advantage to himself. "i must have a deposit," he said, adding cheerfully, "yachts do get sunk even here, and there's no telling what might happen, though i'm sure of one thing, sir, you wouldn't run away with her. then she must be insured in the united states governmental insurance company for the other half, and----" but, to cut mr. juby short, reginald, who had brought a very comfortable little sheaf of bank of england notes wherewith to prosecute his search, consented to his terms, and became the tenant of the lamented sir barnaby's yacht. she proved, when he went down to see her before finally concluding negotiations, a very serviceable-looking little cutter, strongly built, having a good inventory, her ballast all lead, copper all new, a full outfit, and a double-purchase capstan. and she bore on her the name of a well-known barbadoes builder, of whom, probably, the late baronet had purchased her new. "i don't mind taking that nigger as far as tortola," said reginald, pointing out a man loafing about st. john's harbour, "if he wants a job as he says he does, but he'll have to go ashore there. i'm fond of sailing by myself and shan't employ him regularly, at any rate." and in this way he set off upon his journey once more, sailing the _pompeia_ himself, and letting the negro potter about, cook a meal or two, and gossip a little on subjects of interest in the islands, but of none at all to him. and at tortola--to which the man belonged--he sent him ashore, telling him that whenever the cutter came in and out he could come and see if he was wanted, and perhaps earn a shilling or two. the weather was everything that could be desired, and, had reginald been the most cockney yachtsman that ever kept a yacht in the thames, instead of a skilful sailor, he would have found it all he wished, while the cruise past the intermediate islands was charming even to him, who had seen so much of the world. the great peak of nevis interested him by recalling the fact that it was in this island that nelson found his wife, when, as captain of the _boreas_, he brought his ship here after chasing the french fleet; while st. kitt's, with its "mount misery," and its claims to be the gibraltar of the west indies, appealed also to his naval mind. and, when the scarlet-roofed houses of st. thomas, surrounded by the glorious foliage of that fair island, hove into sight as the _pompeia_ left santa cruz on her port beam, he felt a thrill of satisfaction, mixed, perhaps, with excitement at the knowledge that coffin island was at hand. another day or so would bring him to the place of which his relative had, in his quaint style, left so graphic a description; he would probably come into contact with the strange family that dwelt in coffin island; he would be near his inheritance. "yet," he said to himself, as he set the yacht's head a point further north, to run up what still retains its old name of "sir francis drake's passage"--"yet is it my inheritance? or does it not by right belong to this poor family, who, it seems, have for over a hundred years been searching hopelessly for it? is it theirs or mine? theirs--who, by some strange fate, have come to the knowledge that treasure is buried here, perhaps was buried by their own ancestors, who left the story of it--or mine, who am only the kinsman of the man who lighted on that treasure, but could not take it away with him? well! i shall see. perhaps, when i have met these people who live in so primitive a state, i shall know better what to do--know whether it is best to get the treasure and go off with it, or do my duty, and, if it is rightly theirs, restore it to them." so, you will perceive, not only was reginald a romantic and adventurous young man, but also a very straightforward one! chapter xxx. out of the depths of a far distant past. two days after these reflections the _pompeia_ was making her entrance under very light sail into that river--spoken of variously by nicholas as a canal, an inlet, and an outlet--in which the fight with the _etoyle_ had taken place. and it almost seemed to reginald as if he must himself have been a partaker of that fight, so visibly did his predecessor's story rise before his mind now that he was in the very spot. "it was here," he thought, as he lowered the last remaining yard of sail, "that the _etoyle_ was across the stream, there that the galliot lay before they went at them. heavens and earth! why does not nicholas rise up before my sight with his round face and light bob wig, as he appears in the little picture at home, and in his scarlet coat?--but--no, he would not have them on here. those braveries were not for cruises such as he was upon." then he looked around again. "which, i wonder, was the spot where alderly drew up the box from under the water, and where he murdered the diver? which the spot where the path led up to the hut? why does not some spirit rise to point these things out to me?" all was very calm here now as the romantic young man indulged in these meditations. there was no sign of life about the island--of human life; it was as still as though it were uninhabited. yet all the tropic life was there, all the gorgeous colouring of which the yankee settler--if he were a yankee--who told him the story of the place had spoken. the fan-palms, the moriches, and the gros-gros grew side by side; red poinsettias mingled with wild begonias, purple dracæna and yellow crotons; the rattans and orchids were tangled together in an indescribable confusion of beauty. "it is the isle of nicholas's description. no doubt about that!" said reginald. "and," he continued, drawing his pipe from his pocket and lighting it, "i am here as once nick was here. what a pity there is no one to represent the murdered diver and his assassin, the drunken, maddened pirate." as he reflected thus he heard the bark of a dog a little distance off; a few moments later he heard another sound as though branches were being parted; presently a voice spoke to the dog, and then the foliage growing down to the river's bank was pushed aside, and a woman came out from that foliage and stood gazing at him. "who are you?" she asked. "and what do you want?" from his cutter to the shore, thirty to forty feet off, he in return gazed upon her, though his surprise did not prevent his remembering he was a gentleman, and, from the distance, taking off his hat to her while he put away his pipe. she stood before him, surrounded by all that luxuriance of colour and tropical vegetation, a girl "something more than common tall," and of, perhaps, nearly twenty years of age. a girl dressed in a light cotton gown--a very west indian robe, both in its plain quality and pattern--that hung loosely upon her, yet did not conceal the shapely form beneath. on her head she wore a large napping straw hat, but it was not at her hat, but at what was beneath it, that reginald looked. her features were beautiful--there is no other word but this simple one to describe them--her colouring that which is often found in these regions, but scarcely anywhere else; the eyes a dark, lustrous hazel, the eyebrows black, the hair, which hung down like a mane upon her back, golden, with a tinge of copper red in it. "who are you?" she asked again, though he noticed that her voice was not a harsh one, nor, in spite of the question, an angry one. "what do you require?" "pardon me," replied reginald, still spellbound at her appearance. "pardon me. i hope this is no intrusion. i am yachting in a small way about the islands here. and among other places that attracted my attention was this river. i trust my presence is not objectionable." "no," the girl replied quietly. then she said, "do you belong to the islands, or are you english or american?" "i am english," he answered. "a sailor in her majesty's service." she paused a moment, as though, it seemed to him, scarce knowing what to say, then she spoke again. "are you going to land?" "if i may do so. if it is permissible." "oh, yes," she said. "you may do so. sometimes people land here." he took her permission at once, and, dropping the cutter's anchor, drew up the dinghy that was aft of her, and, getting into it, stepped on shore close by her side. and, as he did so, he wondered, "was it here that nicholas landed?" then once more taking off his hat as he came near to her, he said: "why do people sometimes land here? have you any particular object of interest in your island?" he would like to have added in a gallant fashion, and sailor-like, "besides yourself," but, on consideration, refrained from doing so. the girl smiled, as he could see, while she bent down to quiet the dog that was jumping about reginald as though welcoming a new acquaintance. then she replied-- "no, not any particular object. yet people come here because there is a history attached to my family, or, perhaps i should say, my family really has a history connected with this island--though i for one do not believe it." "and that history is?" reginald asked eagerly. "an ancestor of mine was supposed to have buried a treasure, or to have found one, and never been able to remove it. yet, since he lived a wild life--for i fear he was a pirate--he left with his wife, a mere girl, a full description of where it could be found should he at any time fail to return to her. he did fail at last to return, and the place which he had named was this island, the exact spot being a cellar under a hut." she paused a moment, then she added, "the hut was found and the cellar, but--the treasure was gone." whether the faintness which came over reginald at this moment--a thing he had never experienced before--was caused by the change from the cool sea breezes to the warmth exhaled by the thick vegetation of the island and the rich odour sent forth by the flowers, he has never yet been able to tell. all he knows is that, at her words, the place where they were standing swam round him, the palms seemed to be dancing a stately measure with each other and the island spinning, too, while he heard the girl's voice exclaiming: "you are not well. what has overcome you?" "i do not know," he replied. "it must be the heat ashore; yet i am used to all kinds of heat. a little water would revive me. i will go back to the cutter." "there is a rill close by," she said; "come and drink from that." he went towards it, following the direction she indicated, his mind still confused, his brain whirling. "where had he heard of a rill before in connection with the island?" he asked himself; yet as he did so he knew very well it was somewhere in nicholas's narrative. and the hut and the cellar beneath! above all, a girl whose red mane was thrown behind her! where had he heard of one such as that? he drank from the well and cooled his hands and face--still remembering that nicholas had in some portion of his story described how he had done this same thing--and all the time the girl stood watching him. "you will pardon me this exhibition of weakness, i hope," he said. "but i am all right now. and your story is so interesting, so much like a romance, that--if i may stay a little longer--i should like to hear some more of it. that is, if my curiosity is not offensive." "no," the girl said simply, and her very ease before him and her lack of ceremony showed how much a stranger she was to any worldly conventionality. "i am very glad to have anyone to talk to. one gets tired of living always, or nearly always, alone." "alone! but surely you don't live alone in coffin island? i had heard there were at least two--two men here." "there are sometimes--my father and brother; but they go away to sea for weeks together, especially since they have almost abandoned the thought of our finding the fabulous treasure. they are away now, though i expect them back soon." "and you are not afraid to live here all by yourself?" "afraid! why should i be? we cannot find the buried treasure, therefore it is not likely anyone else could do so. and there is nothing else here to tempt anyone." "was there not?" reginald reflected. "was there not?" yet she seemed so innocent and simple that he could not tell her his thoughts. he could not tell her, as he might have told a more worldly girl, that to many men there was a greater temptation in that graceful form and those hazel eyes and tawny golden hair than in all the dross beneath the surface of the earth. so he only said-- "but if you found the treasure? what would you do then?" "we should go away, i suppose--though i should be sorry to leave this island. we should go into the world then--perhaps to antigua or trinidad." reginald here politely concealed a smile, and she went on, "but i hope we shall never find it. my father and brother are used to the life they lead here; i do not think the outer world would suit them." "but they are sailors and have seen it, you say?" "they are sailors, but not such as you. they are simple, rough men, scarcely able to read or to write. that was, i think, why they--why my father--sent me to school at antigua." "but how do you live while they are away?" he asked her now. "very well. i have the hut, and there is always plenty of dried meat and fresh fruit. and sometimes i fish, or shoot a bird. there are plenty here of both kinds." then she stopped and, looking at him, said, "would you like to see our home? it is not far." the girl's _naïveté_ won on him so that there was but one reply possible--an immediate and fervent assent to this invitation; and a few moments later they were treading a path through the wood. "the path," reginald said to himself, "that doubtless he walked, leading to the hut where he saw alderly die. the same, yet all so different!" "a little glade on which the moon did shine as though on a sweet english field at home," he remembered nicholas had written--and, lo! they were in it now. "a little glade bordered on all sides by golden shaddocks, grapefruits, citrons and lime-trees, with, at their feet and trailing round them, the many-hued convolvuli of the tropics, passion-flowers and grandillos." only, instead of seeking for a bloodstained sea-robber, reginald was following in the footsteps of this woodland nymph--this girl whose beauty and innocence acted like a charm upon him. then, next, they entered the tangled forest that nicholas had passed through, and here again all was as he had described it. the gleaming leaves of the star-apple shone side by side with the palms and cotton-trees; the fresh cool plantains and the cashews stopped their way sometimes; the avocados and yams and custard-apples were all around them. and turning a bend of the path they came upon the hut, even as, two centuries ago, nicholas had come upon the hut where alderly had played host to the spectres of his drunken imagination. of course it could not be the same; the old one must long ago have rotted away, even if not pulled down. this to which the girl led him was a large, substantial wooden building, painted white and green, with all around it--which made it appear even larger--a balcony, or piazza, and with jalousies thrown over the rails of the piazza from above the windowless frames. on the balcony were rude though comfortable chairs covered with striped osnaburgh cloths; against the railing there stood a gun--it was hers!--and there were large calabashes standing about, some full of water and some empty, with smaller ones for drinking from. "this is my home," the girl said. "and it is here that we have lived for nearly two hundred years, the house being rebuilt as it fell into disrepair from time to time. i pray you to be seated. later, when you have rested, you shall see where the diggings have been made in the searches for the supposed treasure." "and where," said reginald, speaking as one in a stupor, "is the spot you told me of, the cellar where the treasure once had been?" "it is below the floor of this verandah we are standing on. why do you ask?" "your story interests me so," he replied. "it seems so like a dream. but," he continued, "later on, another day, perhaps you will tell me all of it. for instance, i should so much like to know how your ancestor, who at last never returned, came to possess the treasure and to leave it buried here." "he found it here," she said, "by chance, and ever afterwards he made this island a resort of his. i have told you he was a bad man--i am afraid, a pirate." again there came a feeling into reginald's mind that he was losing his senses, that he was going mad. and the next question he asked, with the answer he received, might, indeed, have justified him in so thinking. "will you tell me," he said, "to whom i owe this hospitable reception on coffin island? will you tell me your name?" "my name," she replied, "is barbara alderly." chapter xxxi. some light upon the past. her name was barbara alderly! this girl whose beauty was as fresh and pure as her mind was innocent, the girl who--in spite of being able to shoot birds for her food and cook them too, or to sail a boat as well as reginald himself could do--looked as delicate as any girl brought up in an english country house, was barbara alderly, _his_, the pirate's, descendant! it seemed impossible--impossible that she could claim relationship with such as he had been; yet it was so! a week passed from the time she had divulged her name, a week in which they were always together during the daytime--he going to his boat at night, and joining her again in the early morning--and in that week each had told the other their story, barbara being the first to relate hers. but in justice to reginald it must be said that, never from the moment he had heard who she was, had he had one thought of keeping back from her the secret of where the treasure was hidden, or of depriving her and her relations of one farthing of it. "it must all be theirs," he said to himself, "all, all. i could not go away from this island with one penny of it in my pocket and continue to think myself an honest man." but first he had to hear her family story--in itself a romance, if ever there was one--she telling it to him a few days after their acquaintance, as they sat on the verandah, while he drank some water from one of the calabashes, flavoured with a dash of whisky brought up by him from the _pompeia_, and she played with her inseparable companion, the dog, carazo. "you must know," she began, "that it was not until some years after simon alderly--who was the man i think to have been a pirate--failed to return to port royal, where he lived, that his still young wife, barbara--her name being the same as mine--found the paper telling her of the treasure in this island." "barbara!" reginald interrupted, memory recalling nicholas's words once more. "barbara! a portrait of a girl with blue eyes, red gold hair, and a sweet mouth!" "what do you mean, sir?" exclaimed his young hostess, looking at him for the first time with something like surprise, if not alarm. "how do you know she was like that? she has been dead for," and she counted rapidly on her fingers--"for one hundred and seventy years!" "miss alderly," reginald replied, "will you believe me if i tell you that i think i shall be able to throw some light upon your family history when i have heard it? i have something to tell you as well as to listen to." "then," said the girl, "your presence here is not due to accident. you have come purposely to this island in connection with the hidden wealth it is supposed to contain." "yes!" he said, "yes, i could not tell you an untruth. i have come purposely here to find out about that wealth. believe me, my presence bodes no harm to you or yours, no deprivation of what belongs rightly to you." "oh!" she said, "how happy that will make father. but will you not tell me----" "with your permission," he replied, "i will not tell you anything until you have told me your story. then i will keep nothing back from you--i will, indeed, help you to recover that which has been sought for so long----" "you know where it is?" "i think so. i discovered the secret in england, and i came out here to dig----" "but," she again interrupted, "if you discovered the secret, then this treasure is yours, not ours." "no," he said hastily, "no; it would have been mine had i not found that there were people in existence who are more righteously entitled to it. now i shall find it, if i can, for you. pray continue your tale. when that is concluded i will begin mine." for some time he could not bring her to do so, his words having caused her much excitement; but at last she took up the thread of her narrative--the narrative interrupted so early in its commencement. "this barbara," she said at last--while all the time her clear eyes had a searching, almost troubled, look, as she kept them fixed on him--"this barbara of whom you seem to know, or to have guessed the appearance, though i cannot say if it is a correct one, had herself a strange history. simon alderly had found her, a child of about four years old, alone and deserted on one of the lucayos group, and, since there was a boat washing about on the coast of the island, he thought that possibly she had drifted ashore in it, while her parents, or those who had saved her, had fallen into the sea from the boat after escaping from some sinking ship. he took her off, however, carried her to port royal, and, after bringing her up, married her when she was fifteen. then he left her in charge of his house there, while he, following the calling of a sea-captain, was frequently away from home, sometimes for weeks at a time, sometimes for months, sometimes for more than a year. but whenever he returned he always brought a great deal of money--generally composed of the coins of several different nations--half of which he always gave to her for future household expenses, spending the remainder in great rejoicing while he stayed on shore." "this is, of course, family history," reginald hazarded, "handed down from generation to generation? is it not?" "you shall hear, though you have guessed right. our family records since that time have been carefully kept." "i beg your pardon for interrupting you," reginald said. "pray go on." "however," the girl continued, stroking carazo's ears all the while as she did so, "the time came when he returned no more; he disappeared finally in ." "ah!" exclaimed reginald involuntarily. again her soft hazel eyes stared full at him as she exclaimed, "you are aware of that; you know it as well as i do!" "yes," he answered, "i know it. once more forgive me." "perhaps," she said, "you know as much, or more than i do!" "no," he replied, "after that i know no more. after the year down to this period i know nothing further of simon alderly--indeed i did not even know that his name was simon; what you tell me of incidents after that period will be new to me." "and you will tell me all you know when i have finished?" she asked, looking at him with such trusting eyes that no man, unless he were a scoundrel, could have had one thought of obtaining her confidence and yet holding his own. "on my honour i will," he answered, "even to telling you where i believe your wealth is hidden." she made a gesture as though deprecating the word "your," and then, seeing he was waiting eagerly for her to continue, she did so. "he disappeared finally in --barbara never heard of him again. then as time went on she grew very poor. there had been a son born to them whom she had brought up to be a sailor, too, hoping thereby that, when he also became a roamer, he might somehow gather news of his father; and by turning the house into an inn, she managed to exist. in that way years passed and she began to grow old, while her son still followed the sea, though never rising to be anything more than a humble seaman. but more years after, when she was getting to be quite an old woman, her house was blown down in a hurricane--though it had survived the terrible one of , when all the wharves at port royal were destroyed--and then--she found something." "what?" asked reginald. "what was it?" he remembered what david crafer had found under circumstances not dissimilar, and, perhaps, because he was a sailor--and thereby given even in these modern days to belief in strange and mysterious things--he wondered if the hand of fate had pointed out to that old barbara some marvellous clue to where the treasure was. yet he knew that it could scarce have told her of the removal of the chests of treasure from the island to the key. "she found," went on the barbara of to-day, "a little walled-up wooden cupboard----" "great heaven!" he muttered beneath his breath, so that, this time, she did not hear him. "close to the place where he used to sit and drink when at home, but of the existence of which she was ignorant. yet, she remembered, he had often told her that there were secret hiding-places in the house, and that, if he died suddenly or never came back, she was to search diligently and she would find them. especially he bade her search in that room; but, what with waiting and watching for his return, she had forgotten his instructions. and now that it was burst open, the wall that secured it being only a plank of wood which fell out at the first violence of the hurricane, she found this cupboard full of various pieces of money, gold and silver, and a paper in his writing telling her of his treasure in this island." "then it was his!" exclaimed reginald. "by discovery. he wrote that he had put into coffin island--as it was called even so long ago as his time--in a storm, and that, while roaming about the place, he and his comrades had come upon a hut, old and long since built, but quite deserted now. then he went on to write--my father has the paper now, and i have often seen it--that the sloop he had was sent to tortola to fetch provisions----" "was it in charge of a man named martin, by any chance?" asked reginald. but now he saw how imprudent he was. as he mentioned that name the girl started from her seat and retreated from him to the other end of the verandah. "you frighten me," she said. "i do not understand. how do you know this?" "do not be alarmed, i beg," he answered in return. "when you have told your story i will put into your hands a paper that has been found, written by a forerunner of mine who knew simon alderly. then you will see how i know what i do. pray feel no alarm. i mean you nothing but goodwill, nothing. the treasure shall be yours and no one else's. will you trust in me?" "yes," she said, once more calmed. "yes, i will." then she seated herself again and at his persuasion continued the narrative, while reginald could not but reflect how little fear nicholas need have had of "martin coming back with the sloop." the bewildered mind of the drink-inflamed pirate had mixed up two separate sojourns in coffin island! "the sloop went to tortola to purchase provisions, and, since they were short-handed, there being but three men excepting my ancestor, all went in her but him. and then it was he found the treasure, it being in a vault or cavern beneath the floor of the hut. it was the simplest way in which he unearthed it, he wrote, and had he not been alone it must have been discovered by the others as well as he. there was a trap-door in the flooring, with a great ring to it, quite visible to anyone, and opening easily. and when he went down some steps into the cavern he found it all--all! only he had no chance to take it away then, he wrote to his wife; so, putting a vast number of gold pieces in his pocket, he carefully closed the trap-door up again and covered it over with earth, which he stamped down with his feet so that his companions should observe nothing. and in the paper which he left, giving such instructions as were necessary, which were not many--the place was so easily to be found--he wrote down that he had since, whenever opportunity offered, paid visits to coffin island, but, being always accompanied by comrades, he never yet had had a chance of removing it. and, he said, if he never brought it home and she found the paper, then she must go to coffin island after his death and get it for herself. it was a large treasure, a great fortune, he wrote, it must not be lost." "so," said reginald, "she came here?" "she came here," the girl continued, "and with her came her son and a woman he had married, a barbadian. but through all the generations from the day she came--which was in the year --and i am the eighth in descent from her, they have never found the treasure. the vault was there, but there was nothing in it." "yet your family have continued to seek for it," exclaimed reginald. "i should almost have thought they would have desisted." "no," barbara replied, "they never desisted. for first, they thought that simon might have changed the hiding-place after he had left the paper in jamaica--the life he led would probably necessitate his doing so, since his companions might otherwise have also found the vault--and, next, the island had become their home. simon's son bought it for half-a-crown an acre, his wife having some little money, and we have lived here ever since, while every man who has succeeded to it has made further search." so the tale was told, and now the time had come for reginald to tell his. and as that night he took farewell of barbara, he said-- "to-morrow i shall tell you why the treasure has never been found by your family. to-morrow i shall bring you a narrative left by that connection of mine, saying where the treasure is hidden. he knew simon alderly, and he found out the hiding-place." "and was simon indeed a pirate?" barbara asked. "would it grieve you to hear he was?" she thought a moment before replying, and then she said-- "no, for we have always thought him to be one. no, not if it will not make you think worse of me for having descended from him." "i knew that was so," reginald replied, "when you told me your name. and i do not think i showed by my manner that i thought any the worse of you." chapter xxxii. the solitude is interrupted. the weather had changed, and, as is always the case in the tropics, the change was extreme. the wind blew now from the northeast, dashing the sea up in mountains on to the strip of beach around that quarter of coffin island, hurling it with a roar like great claps of thunder over the beach on to the vegetation beyond it, crashing down trees and saplings, and entirely obliterating for a time the three little keys, in the middle one of which was simon alderly's treasure. this key reginald had gazed upon more than once since he had been in the island; he had even pointed it out to barbara on the morning after she had told her tale, and had added the few missing links to the knowledge she already possessed; and he had also informed her that therein lay her fortune. "so," the girl said on that morning, as she gazed down from the cliff on which they stood to where the already fast-rising waves were washing over the spot in question, "it is there they ought to have searched. it has laid there all the time! yet no one ever thought of those little islets. well! i am glad!" "why?" asked reginald, as he looked round at her. he had given her his arm to steady her against the fierce wind blowing now under the purple, sun-coloured clouds rolling up from the northeast, and she had taken it. yet, as she did so, she scarcely knew why she should accept that proffered arm. she was used to all changes of weather in this, her island; she could stand as easily upon the tallest crags that it possessed as any of her goats, or even the sea-birds that dwelt upon them, could do. yet, still, she had taken it! "oh! i don't know," she replied in answer to his question; "yet--yet, i think i am. because--" she paused again, and then went on. "because, you see, if any of my people had found it before now--before you came here--why, you would have found nothing yourself when you arrived, after you had made so long a journey. and, we should have been gone--you and i would never have met." something in the sailor's nature tingled as she said those words in her simplicity--something, he knew not what. still, in response, he turned his eyes on her, and gazed into those other clear eyes beside him, shaded with their long, jet-black lashes. then he said-- "for us never to have met would have been the worst thing of all, barbara." it seemed absurd to call her miss alderly, here in this wild tropical garden inhabited only by themselves; to give her the stilted prefix that would have been required in the midst of civilisation. so, not for the first time, he had addressed her by her christian name. and to her--who perhaps in her schooldays only, in antigua, had ever known what it was to be spoken of as miss alderly--it appeared not at all strange that he should so address her. "but," he went on, "as for the treasure, as for the finding of it--that might as well have happened fifty or a hundred years ago as now. it is yours and your family's; not a farthing of it belonged to my relative, nor belongs to me." "that shall never be," she replied. "my father, although a rough, simple sailor, is an honest, straightforward man; he, at least, would never hear of such a thing as your not having your share. and for my brother----" but here she paused. "why," asked reginald, after a moment had elapsed--"why do you hesitate at the name of your brother?" "because," she replied, "he is different. he is," and she buried her face in her hands for a moment and then uncovered it again--"he is a cruel, grasping man, selfish and greedy. he rules us more as if he were father than father himself, and he tyrannises even over him. he takes all the money they both earn while they are away together, and, generally, he spends it. when they went to aspinwall, at the time they were so busy about the canal, he took all they had both earned and spent it at the faro and monte tables, as they call them down there. and once he struck father before me, when they were both at home, because he wanted to go over to porto rico, where the spaniards gamble day and night, and father would not give him the money for some goats he had sold to a tortola dealer. oh!" she continued, "he is terrible! and when he takes his share of what is in the key, i dread to think of what he will do with it." as she finished, the storm increased with such violence that it was necessary for them to leave the crag on which they stood--otherwise they would possibly be blown off it ere many moments had elapsed. moreover, the hot rain was beginning now--and in these regions only a few moments elapse between the fall of the first drop and the drenching downpour of a tropical storm; it was time for them to seek the refuge of barbara's home. the thunder, too, was very near now, so at once they hurried onwards, gaining the desired shelter before the worst of the storm had set in. it was to-day--the day following barbara's account of simon alderly--that reginald had promised to read to her nicholas's narrative. he had it in his pocket now; indeed he regarded it as too precious a thing to leave carelessly about, and consequently it was always with him, and to-day he proposed ere leaving her to get through some portion of it. he meant to read it all through, partly as a story that he thought would interest the girl, partly as a justification of nicholas. for, he considered, if, since she already believed her ancestor to be a pirate, he proved to her that he was indeed such, then nicholas must be acquitted in her mind for having himself removed and hidden away that which did not belong to him. so they, having reached the house, sat themselves down to the narrative, he to read and she to listen. they were no longer able to sit upon the verandah since the rain now beat down pitilessly and as though it never meant to cease, and the wind, even in the middle of the little island, was very boisterous. and so, when the jalousies had been fastened tightly to prevent the flapping they had previously made, reginald began nicholas's story, prefacing it with the account of how it had been found. it was about ten o'clock in the day when this young couple, who had so strangely been brought together in this island, began that story--for they met and parted early; it was nearly nightfall when reginald arrived at the description of how alderly died singing his drunken song. and amidst the swift-coming darkness--a darkness made more intense by the heavy pall of clouds that hung above the island--there seemed to come over them both that feeling of creepiness, of melancholy horror, which nicholas had described himself as becoming overwhelmed with. the girl seemed far more overcome by this feeling than reginald was. she started again and again at every fresh gust that shook the frail fabric in which she dwelt, her eyes stared fixedly before her as though she saw the spectre of her pirate ancestor rising up, and once she begged him to desist for a moment from his reading. "it was below here," she whispered, "below the very spot where we sit, that that wretch, that murderous villain, died in his sin. oh! it is horrible! horrible to think that we have all lived here so long, that i was born here. horrible!" "barbara," said reginald, "do not regard it so seriously. i was wrong to read you all i have--yet, think. think! it is two hundred years since it all happened--we have nothing to do with that long-buried past." "yes, yes," she said. "i know that we have not. yet--yet--this is the very spot--the very place. that makes it all so much more horrible, so much more ghostly. and to-night, i know not why, i feel as i have never felt before, nervous, frightened, alarmed, as though at some danger near at hand. let me light the lamp ere you continue." "it is the storm has made you nervous," he replied, trying to soothe her while he assisted her to arrange the lamp. "the air, too, is charged with electricity--that alone will unstring your nerves, to say nothing of the darkness and the noise of the tempest. i have done wrong, barbara; i have selected the worst time for reading this horrible story to you. i should have chosen one of the bright days when we could sit on the crags and have nothing but the brilliant sun about and over us." she glanced up at him with a smile in her clear eyes--the smile that never failed to make him think that he had lit on some woman belonging to another world than his, it was so full of innocence as well as a simple trust that would have well befitted a little child--and laid her hand upon his arm as though to assure him that he had done nothing to affright her. but, as she did so, there came a terrific flash of lightning which illuminated all the tropical wood outside--as they could see through the slats of the jalousie--and then a roar of thunder that made the girl scream and let fall the lamp just lighted. but reginald caught it deftly, and placing it on the table said with a smile-- "it would never do for another lamp to be overturned here as one was so long ago. come, barbara, cheer up, take heart! we will read no more to-night." "yes, yes," she exclaimed. "read. go on reading and finish your story. besides, we must do something to pass the night--you cannot go to your yacht, and i--i--; for the first time in my life i fear to be alone. i dread, though i know not what. i have been alone night after night here for even weeks and months together, and never feared anything. yet, now, i am afraid. pray, do not leave me to-night." he looked at her, admiring, almost worshipping her for the innocence she showed in every word she spoke, and then he said-- "have no fear, i will not leave you if you wish it. but, barbara, we must do something else to pass the hours away than read old nicholas's story. what shall we do? let us have a game of cards." there were some packs in her house that they had played with before now--cards brought from other islands by her dissolute brother, with which to pass the long nights in, as she frankly owned, trying to get the better of his father; but she would not play now. "no," she said. "let us come to the end of the tale. i cannot rest until i have heard it all. do, do finish it." "very well, if you will," he answered. "and, at any rate, the worst is told. there is nothing more to shock or affright you. nothing but the burying of the treasure in the spot where it now lies, and where we will dig it up." the jalousies rattled as he spoke--yet at this moment the wind had ceased, and nought was heard but the steady downpour of the rain. but, perhaps because of the incessant noise the storm had made for some hours, neither of them noticed this peculiar incident, though reginald glanced up as the blind stirred. then he began again, reading on through nicholas's strange story, and doing so with particular emphasis, so that she might grasp every word of his description as he told how the measurements were to be taken in the middle key. and barbara sat there listening silently. yet, as he turned a leaf--having now got to that part of the account where nicholas was picked up by the _virgin prize_--he paused in astonishment at the appearance of her face. for she was gazing straight before her at the jalousie, her eyes opened to their widest, her features drawn as though in fright, her face almost distorted. "look! look!" she gasped. "look at the blind." and he, following her glance, was for the moment appalled too. a large hand was grasping half-a-dozen of the slats in its clutch; between those slats a pair of human eyes were twinkling as they peered into the room. as reginald rose to rush at the intruder, whoever he was, barbara gave another gasp and fell back fainting into her chair; and then, before her companion could ask the owner of those eyes what he meant by his intrusion, the blinds were roughly thrust aside, and, following this, there came a man of great size, from whom the water dripped as from a dog who had just quitted a river--a man whose face was all bruised and discoloured as though he had been badly beaten. chapter xxxiii. the island's owner. "who are you, and what do you want?" asked reginald, confronting the intruder; while, as he spoke, he observed that the coarse and scanty clothes in which he was clad were drenched with more water than even the heavens could have poured on him. he was a man of great bulk, young as himself, and with a mass of reddish-yellow hair that hung about his face, matted and dishevelled from the wet in which it was soaked; and as he advanced into the room the water dripped off him on to the floor. "want!" he replied, "want! what should a man want in his own house but rest and comfort after a storm? master, this is my house! i had best ask what you want here? and at night--alone with my sister." yet he did not pause for an answer, but going up to where that sister lay back in the swoon that had overcome her, he shook her roughly by the shoulder and called out-- "come, get over your fit. i have bad news for you." "be a little more gentle with her!" reginald exclaimed. "we can bring her to in a better manner than that;" and as he spoke he went to the spirit flask he had brought up from the yacht, and moistened her lips with some of the whisky, and bathed her forehead with water from one of the calabashes. "what the devil is the matter with the girl?" asked her brother. "she has never been used to indulging in such weaknesses--what does it mean?" "it means," the other replied, "that the storm has frightened her." "bah! she has seen plenty of them since she was born. we are used to storms here." "and also," reginald went on, "she saw a man--you--outside, listening to us. she saw your hand on the blind and your face through the slats, but did not recognise you. it is not strange that she should be frightened." but by this time barbara was coming round--she opened her eyes as her brother spoke, then closed them again, as though the sight of him was horrible to her, and shivered a little. but, after a moment, she opened them once more, and, fixing them on him, said-- "you have come back. where is father?" "he is dead," he said, using no tone of regret as he spoke, and, indeed, speaking as he might have done of the death of some stranger. "he is dead not an hour ago. the storm drove us here, brought us home. but as we reached the shore, for we could not get round to the creek, the breakers flung our boat over, and us out of it. i was fortunate enough to scramble on land, but the old man had no such luck. he was carried out to sea again, and i saw no more of him." barbara had burst into tears at the first intimation of her father's death, and now she wept silently, her brother sitting regarding her calmly while he sipped at reginald's flask as though it were his own!--and the latter felt his whole heart go out to her in sympathy. yet--how could he comfort her? the one whose place it was to do that was now by her side, but being a rough, uncouth brute, as it was easy to see he was, he neither offered to do so, nor, it seemed probable, would he have done aught but mock at any kind words reginald might speak. "father! father!" the girl sobbed. "oh, father! and i have been looking forward so much to your return--hoping so much from it. thinking how happy we might be." her brother--who seemed to consider that, after having told her of old alderly's death, no further remark on the subject was necessary, and who, if he knew what sympathy meant, certainly did not consider it needful to exhibit any--had by now turned his back to them and, going to a cupboard, was busily engaged in foraging in it. reginald had seen barbara take food out of this cupboard ere this, both for him and for herself--food consisting of dried goat's flesh, cheese and other simple things--and therefore he was not surprised at the man doing so now. but he was somewhat surprised at hearing barbara, while her brother's back was turned, whisper to him-- "say nothing at present about the key." he nodded, willing to take his line of action from her in anything she might suggest in the circumstances which had now arisen; yet he felt that his silence would make his presence there still more inexplicable but, also, his trust was so firm in the girl that without hesitation he determined to do as he was bidden. presently her brother turned away from the cupboard, coming towards them again and bearing in one hand a piece of coarse bread and, in the other, a scrap of meat he had found. "been here long keeping barbara company?" he asked, while his twinkling eyes--how unlike hers! reginald thought--glistened maliciously. "we don't often get visitors here." "indeed," reginald replied; "i have heard differently. i was told in tortola that curiosity about the strange history of your island brought many people here. and, having a little yacht which i have hired and being a sailor myself, i ventured to pay a visit." "sailor, eh? what line? american and--but, there, it's easy enough to see you're a britisher. what is it? royal mail, eh?" "i am in the royal navy. a lieutenant. and my name's crafer." "crafer, eh? and in the royal navy? i don't think much of the royal navy myself. a damned sight too condescending in their ways, as a rule, are the gentlemen in your line--that is, when they take any notice of you at all. well, if you're going to stay i hope you're not like that. and my name's alderly--joseph alderly. that's good enough for me." "i certainly did hope to stay a little longer. i am on leave and like cruising about." "your boat's in the river, you say?" "yes." "why don't you live in it instead of in this house, then? or at tortola, where there is a hotel? in some of the islands hereabouts my sister would get a bad name if it was known she was entertaining young english officers all alone." at his words reginald sprang to his feet, barbara also rising, her hazel eyes, that were usually so soft and innocent, flashing indignant glances at her brutal brother. "you don't know, you don't understand," she began; "if you did you would behave differently. mr. crafer has come----" but reginald was speaking also. "mr. joseph alderly," he said, "this is the first night i have ever stayed in your house as late as this. i should not be here now were it not for the storm. however, i will trespass upon your hospitality no longer. miss alderly, i wish you 'good-night.'" he touched her hand as he spoke--not knowing what her glance meant to convey, yet feeling sure that there must be much she would have said to him if she had had but the opportunity--and then he turned on his heel, passed through the jalousie, and so out on to the verandah. the storm was ceasing as he went forth, the clouds were rolling away to the south; around him there were the odours of all the tropical flowers, their perfume increased threefold by the rain. he knew the path so well now from having traversed it many times backwards and forwards from the _pompeia_, that it took him very little time even in the dark to reach the bank of the river, to unmoor the dinghy, and to get on board the craft. then, lighting his pipe, he sat himself down in his little cabin to meditate on what this fresh incident--the arrival of joseph alderly--might mean. "i should know better what to think," he mused, "if i only knew how long he had been behind the blind. the brute may have been there for sufficient time to have heard all the last instructions of old nicholas about finding the treasure which i read out. or he may have heard only enough to give him an inkling that i know where the treasure is. let me see," and he put his hand in his pocket and drew forth his forerunner's narrative. "yes," he muttered, as he turned over the leaves, "yes, i had got far enough--having reached the rescue of nicholas by the _virgin prize_--for him to have heard all if he was there. if he was there; that's it. only--was he? or did he come later when there was nothing more to be overheard than the description of nicholas leaving the island?" again he pondered, turning the arrival of alderly over in his mind, and then he remembered how the jalousies had rattled at a time when the wind had lulled, though he had taken little heed of the fact beyond glancing up from the papers. yet, as he racked his mind to recall what they had been saying, or he reading, at the moment, he remembered the words he had uttered-- "there is nothing to tell you now but the burying of the treasure in the spot where it lies and where we will dig it up." these had been his words, or very similar ones. if alderly had been there then--if he had arrived on the verandah by the time they were uttered--he knew all. he had heard the middle key mentioned, he had heard how the measurements were to be taken, he knew as much as reginald and barbara knew. but--had he been there? was it his hand that shook the blind, or was it some light gust of air, a last breath of the storm? that was the question. still, independent of this--indeed, far beyond the thought of the treasure, which he had definitely decided he would take no portion of, since it was not, could not be, his by any right--his mind was troubled. troubled about barbara and her being alone with the savage creature who was her brother--"heavens!" he thought, "that they should be the same flesh and blood!"--troubled to think of what form his brutality might take towards her if he suspected that she knew where all the long-sought wealth was hidden away. "but," he said to himself, as he still sat on smoking, "no harm shall come to her if i can prevent it--if i can! nay, as i will. he may order me out of these moorings since the whole island is his--well, let him. if he does, i will find out nicholas's cove and anchor myself there--or, better still, i will go and lie off the middle key. and, by the powers! if he does know that the treasure is there and begins to dig for it, not a penny, not a brass farthing shall he take away without my being by to see that he shares fair and fair alike with his sister. he seems capable, from what i have seen of him and she has told me, of taking the whole lot off to aspinwall or porto rico and losing it in one of his loathsome gambling dens, while he leaves her here alone!" he went on deck of his little craft as he made these reflections, and, more from sailor-like habit than aught else--since no one ever came into the river--he trimmed his lights and arranged them for the night, and then went to his cabin and turned in. but before he did so, he cast a glance up to where barbara's home was, and saw that on the slight eminence there twinkled the rays of the lamp through the now opened windows. all was well, therefore, for this night. yet he could not sleep. he could not rest for thinking of the girl up there with no one but that brutal kinsman for a companion; with no one to help her if he in his violence should attempt to injure her--a thing he would be very likely to do if he questioned her about aught he might have overheard, and she refused to satisfy him. at last this feeling got too strong for him--so strong that he determined to go and see if all was well with her. therefore, ashore he went again, and, making his way up quietly through the glade and the little wood, he came within sight and earshot of the hut. and there he soon found that, no matter how fierce and cruel a nature alderly's was, he at least meant no harm to the girl herself. she, he could see from the close proximity to the hut which he had attained, was lying asleep upon a low couch on which he had often sat, a couch covered with osnaburgh cloth and some skins. alderly was sitting at the table, drinking and smoking and occasionally singing. he had evidently found some liquor of his own--probably stowed away by him ere setting out on his various cruises--and was pouring it out pretty rapidly into the mug he drank from. "heavens!" exclaimed reginald. "how the past repeats itself! here stand i, a crafer, watching an alderly in his cups, even as, two hundred years ago, my relative stood here watching this man's. and he sings there as he drinks, even as his rascally forerunner sang, too--the one when his father has not been dead many hours, the other when he had murdered a man! and barbara,--well, there is barbara in place of the fancied barbara the other conjured up. it is the past all over again, in the very same place, almost the very same hour at night. let us hope that, as all came well with nicholas afterwards, so it may with me. and with barbara, too. yes, with barbara, too." whereon, seeing that all was well for the present at any rate, he moved silently away and so regained his boat. chapter xxxiv. joseph alderly. in the morning, when he woke and went on to the deck of his little craft, he saw barbara standing on the river's brink--evidently waiting for him to be stirring. therefore, he at once got into his dinghy and went ashore to her. "what is he doing now?" he asked, as he took her hand and noticed for the first time the absence of the splendid flush of health upon her face that was generally there. this morning she had dark purple rings under her eyes--as though she had not slept or had been weeping. "he is asleep now," she said, "after sitting up drinking, singing, and muttering to himself till nearly daybreak. oh, mr. crafer!" she broke off, "what is to be done?" "what does he know?" asked reginald in return. "did he hear any of the story i read to you? how long had he been at the window before you noticed him?" "i cannot tell. yet i think he suspects. before i went to sleep he asked me what brought you here, and whether you were hunting for the treasure, and also what that paper was you were reading to me?" "and what did you tell him?" "i would not tell a lie, therefore i said it was an account of the island, written by a connection of yours who had been here long ago." "and then?" "and then he said he would like to see it. he said he was sure you would show it to him." "was he! i am sure i shall do nothing of the kind. yet i do not know," and reginald broke off to meditate. following which he went on again. "but he must see it after all. barbara, the treasure is his and yours. he must be told." "no, no," she said. "it is not his--it is yours--yours--yours. oh! it would be wicked, shocking, to think that you, the only person in the world to whom the chance came of finding out where it is hidden, should not be entitled to it, or at least to half of it. and think, too, of the journey you have made, the expense you have been put to, the trouble you have taken. and all for nothing; to get nothing in return." "i have got something in return," he said. "your friendship! have i not, barbara?" "yes," the girl whispered, or almost whispered, while to her cheeks there came back the rose-blush he loved so much to see. "yes. but what is that in comparison to what you ought to have?" "everything," he replied earnestly. "everything. far more, perhaps, to me than you think. but now is scarcely the time to tell you how dear that friendship is. instead, let us think of what is best to be done." "at present," she replied, "i am sure the best thing is to keep the secret. if he knew it was there he would get it up somehow--and, i think, he would go away with it. then you would get nothing." "but i want nothing." "i don't care," she replied. "i am determined you shall have half. oh! promise me, promise me you will tell him nothing unless he agrees to give you half." at first he again refused, and still again, but at last he agreed to her request, or at least so far consented that he said he would make a proposal to her brother. he would suggest that, on his being willing to divide whatever they should find into three parts--one for alderly, one for barbara, and one for him--he would inform him where he thought the treasure was buried. but that he would take no more than a third he was quite resolved, he told her. "it will be useless," she said, "useless to do that! he will never consent to my having a third; if he did he would take it away from me directly afterwards." "would he!" exclaimed reginald. "would he! i would see about that." "at any rate, he would try to do so. therefore, it would be far better for you to insist on one half. by taking one third you would only get a lesser share, while he would get more." at last, therefore, reginald determined he would go and see her brother and, as he said, sound him. only he was resolved on one thing. alderly should neither see nicholas's manuscript nor be told the exact spot where the buried treasure was until they had come to some terms. "and, remember," he said to her, "if i get one half from him, you take from me what represents one third." to which again the girl protested she would never consent. after this they parted, she going back to the hut, and he saying he would follow later, since they resolved it would be best to keep the knowledge of their having met that morning from her brother. when, however, reginald himself arrived at alderly's house he found that person gone from it and barbara alone--standing on the verandah and evidently watching for his coming. "he has gone down to the shore," she said, "to see if he can find anything of poor father's body. at least that is what he says he has gone for, as well as to see if his boat is capable of being repaired. alas! i fear he thinks more of the boat than of father's death." "if he thinks so much of the boat," reginald remarked, "it scarcely looks as if he has much idea of there being a large treasure to his hand. however, i will go and see him. where did he come ashore last night?" "very near to the keys," she answered. "indeed, close by." so reginald made his way across the island to that spot, and, when he had descended the crags and reached the small piece of beach there, he saw alderly engaged in inspecting the wrecked craft which had brought him safely back to his island overnight. it had been at its best but a poor crazy thing--a rough-built cutter of about the same size as the _pompeia_, but very different as regards its fittings and accommodation. it was open-decked, with a wretched cabin aft into which those in her might creep for rest and shelter, and with another one forward--but these were all there was to protect them. "she is badly injured," reginald said, after having wished alderly good-morning and received a surly kind of grunt in reply. "i am afraid there is not much to be done to her." "mister," said alderly, suddenly desisting from his inspection, and turning round on the other man without taking any notice of his remark, "i am glad you came here this morning. you and i have got to have some talk together, and we can't do it better than here." "certainly," replied reginald. "what would you like us to talk about?" "it ain't what i'd _like_ to talk about, but what i am _a-going_ to talk about as you've got to hear. now, look you here. i ain't no scholar like barb over there--she was sent to school because the old man was a fool--and i'm a plain man. i've had to earn my living rough--very rough--and p'raps i'm a bit rough myself. but i'm straight--there ain't no man in the islands straighter nor what i am." "being so straight, perhaps you will go on with what you have to say. meanwhile, mr. alderly, let me be equally straight with you. your manner is offensive, and, as you say, 'very rough.' therefore, i may as well tell you that it doesn't intimidate me. we are both sailors, only i happen to have been in a position of command, while your rank, i gather, has been always more or less of a subordinate one. so, if you'll kindly remember that i expect civility, we shall get along very well together." alderly glanced at him, perhaps calculating the strength of the thews and sinews of so finely built a young man; then he said-- "this is _my_ island, you know, mister, and all that's in it." "precisely. and you mean that i am in it. well, so i am. only, you understand, i can very soon get out of it. the sea isn't yours as well." "suppose i wasn't to let you go! suppose i stopped up the mouth of the river where your craft is a-lying! then you'd be in it still." "yes," said reginald, "so i should. only, all the same, i should go when i pleased. i am not a baby--but, there, this is absurd. say what you want to say." "well, i will. what was that paper you was a-reading to my sister in my house last night?" "a little history of this island, which a forerunner of mine happened to visit some two centuries ago." "two cent'ries ago! oh! it didn't happen to say anything about the treasure old simon alderly had stowed away here, did it?" "since you ask me so directly, and as it is your business, i will reply at once. it did." for a moment alderly's face was a sight to see. first the brown of his face turned to a deeper hue, then the colour receded, leaving him almost livid, then slowly the natural colour returned again, and he said, huskily-- "it did, eh? so i thought, though i don't know why the wench, barb, told me a lie." "are you sure she did tell you a lie? i don't think your sister seems a person of that sort." "never mind my sister. tell me about the treasure--_my_ treasure. i am the heir, you know; i am the only alderly left after two cent'ries hunting for it--you was right about them cent'ries, mister. two it was. where is that treasure? go on, tell me." "i have not quite made up my mind about doing that," said reginald. "it remains for me to decide whether i shall do so just yet." "it remains for you to decide whether you will tell me where my property is! it does, does it? and what else?--what do it remain for me to do?" and he advanced so close to reginald and looked so threatening, both from his angry glances and his great height and build, that many a man might have been cowed. but not such a man as reginald crafer! "what do it remain for me to do--eh?" he asked again. "to kill you, p'raps." reginald's laugh rang out so loud at this that it might have been heard on the keys outside--the keys whereon the treasure was. and it made alderly's fury even greater than before. "i _could_ kill you, mister, easy, if i wanted to. and no one would never know of it except barb. and if she knowed of it, why, i'd kill her too. anyhow, i mean to have my fortune." "as to killing," said reginald, "i don't quite agree with you. you seem to me a powerful kind of a person, without much knowledge, however, of using that power." here alderly stamped with fury. "therefore, you are not so very terrible. however, about _your_ fortune. to begin with, are you quite sure it is yours?" "why! whose else is it if it ain't mine?" the bully asked, stupidly now. "ain't this island mine now father's dead?" "you say it is, though i am sure i don't know whether you are telling the truth or not. it might be as much your sister's as yours." alderly burst out laughing, scornfully this time; but reginald went on. "your father might have left a will, you know, leaving her a portion of it, or, indeed, the whole, if he didn't approve of your general behaviour." alderly laughed again--though now he looked rather white, the other thought; and then he said emphatically:-- "father didn't leave no papers. so i'm the heir. girls don't count, i'm told." all of which--both laughter, pallor, and remarks--led reginald to form a suspicion that whatever papers the elder alderly might have left had been destroyed. "i think they do," said reginald, "and certainly miss alderly counts in my opinion. for, if eventually i decide to tell you where your treasure is, she will have to have her portion." "she will have her portion," said alderly decidedly, "which will be that i shall look after her. and i suppose you'll want a portion, too." "yes, rather," the other replied, remembering that he had promised to make no stipulations about barbara. so he corrected himself now, and said, "of course i suppose you will look after her. well, remembering that, i shall want one half." "one half!" exclaimed alderly, almost shouting out the words in his excitement. "one half! my god! one half of all that treasure! just for coming here to tell me where it is! why! you must be mad, mr. crafer, or whatever you call yourself. mad! mad! why! sooner than do that i'd fetch a hundred o' my pals and mates from all around, from the islands and up from aspinwall and colon, and dig the whole place up till we found it. one half!" "and dig the whole place up!" repeated reginald. "just so. only, you know that when your ancestress, the first barbara, and her son came here they found the treasure had been removed from the place where simon left it, and none have ever been able to find it since. isn't that so?" "yes," muttered alderly, "it is, damn you!" "very well. you don't own all the islands round, of which there are some scores, inhabited and uninhabited. and, presuming that the treasure in question has been moved to one of these--and there is no one knows whether it has or not but myself" (he determined not to bring barbara in further than was necessary)--"what good would all the digging of you and your 'pals and mates' do in this place, mr. alderly?" to which the other could only answer by a muttered curse. chapter xxxv. danger impending. alderly was now at bay! for a couple of days he raved, stormed, and alternately endeavoured to extract from reginald and from his sister a hint as to which of the islands the treasure had been removed to. but it was all of no avail. barbara, whose gentle nature had conceived almost a hatred against her unnatural brother for the utter indifference he had shown to their father's fate, avoided him as much as she could, and, when not able to do so, refused to acknowledge that she knew anything more than that mr. crater possessed the secret of the hidden store. while, as for reginald, he simply said, whenever alderly sought him out--which the latter did frequently, since the other would go no more to his hut,--"one half is what i want if we dig it up together." but to alderly, who among all his other bad qualities possessed that of inordinate greed, this proposal appeared so enormous that he could not bring himself to consent to it. "and if we don't dig it up together," said reginald, who had not the slightest compunction in playing on the fears and covetousness of the man, "why, i shall have to dig it up by myself--which you cannot prevent my doing if it is not on your property, you know. then i shall take it all, except what i hand over to some lawyer, or english representative, in one of the islands for your sister's use." "but it is mine, mine alone!" the infuriated wretch would exclaim. "mine, even if it is outside coffin island. simon was my relative, and he found it." "and nicholas crafer was mine," replied the other, "and he found it, too. it belonged to him as much as to simon, and, what's more, the secret belongs to me and not to you. and as you are a card player and a 'sportsman,' mr. alderly, you'll understand what a strong card that is in my favour." it was so strong a card that alderly acknowledged to himself in his own phraseology that "he was beat." that is, he was "beat" by fair means, and, being a brute and a savage in whose nature there seemed to run all the worst strains of his ancestor, simon, he soon took to turning over in his mind how he could win by means that were foul. and on how these means could be brought about he pondered deeply, roaming round the island as he did so, barbara's gun under his arm with which to shoot, now and again, a gull or some other equally harmless or useless bird; or sitting on the crags, or the beach when the tide was out, thinking ever. and what he thought about more than anything else was, "how could he obtain possession of that paper which he had seen in grafer's hand?" for in that paper lay the secret, he felt sure, of the spot to which the treasure, _his_ treasure, had been removed. it may be told here that, although he had been outside the jalousie on the night of the storm which drove him home, and his father to his doom, for longer than either barbara or reginald knew, he had gleaned but a very imperfect knowledge of what the latter had read out. some words he had caught, such as "when you have taken your first measurement from the spot where you land, you stick in the ground your sword, and then make, or persevere until you make, all your other strides correspond with what i have wrote down." yet this told nothing. he had not heard nor caught the mention of the keys, therefore the measurement might apply to any of the scores of little islands in the virgin archipelago. also he had heard reginald read out from his papers, "now here is a little map, rough as befits a drawing made by me, yet just and true." but of what use was this map--unless he could set eyes on it! ah! that was it. if he could set eyes on it! he had heard other sentences, too; a portion of the conclusion of nicholas crafer's narrative, but they would not piece together into one explicit whole. he was, indeed, at bay. he knew the treasure had been moved somewhere, and he knew that, in the possession of this fellow who was now in that gimcrack yacht in the river, was a description of where the treasure was, as well as a map showing the spot; but he knew no more. and as he thought it all over, sitting upon a crag, he ground his large white teeth and beat the rock beneath him with the butt of barbara's gun in his rage. but, at last, it seemed that he had made up his mind, had resolved upon his plan; for with a smothered oath--the use of which expletives he was very frequent in--he sprang to his feet, while he muttered to himself-- "one half! one half! ho! ho! no! not one half, not one shilling, not one red cent." as he rose, there came across the little grassy plateau behind the crag his sister, barbara. for a moment she paused and glanced at him, and, perhaps because she knew him so well and had studied all his evil moods from infancy, she observed something in his face more evil, more threatening than usual. then she said-- "i want my gun." "what for?" "there are some large parrots come across from anegada. you said you wanted some for your supper when next a flock came. see, there are two in the gros-gros down there. give me the gun," and taking it from his hand, she cocked it and aimed at the two birds in the palm-tree half-way down the cliff. "what is the use?" he said roughly. "they will fall into the sea below and we can never get them, it is too deep." but ere he could say more she fired, missing her mark, if, indeed, she had aimed at it. then she uttered an exclamation and dropped the gun, letting it fall a hundred and fifty feet below into the deep sea. "you fool!" he said, "you infernal fool!" and he looked as though he were going to strike her for her carelessness. "you fool! it was the only firearm we had in the island, and now you have let it go where we can never get it back. barbara, a beating would do you good. i have a mind to give you one or fling you over the cliff after it." "it kicked," she said, "and hurt me. and, after all, it doesn't matter much. it was old and scarcely ever shot straight. i could do nothing with it." "i could, though," he replied, still scowling at her. "it would shoot what i wanted. that was good enough for me." and barbara, as she looked him straight in the eyes, said inwardly to herself-- "i know it would shoot what _you_ wanted. that is why it will never shoot again." he changed the subject after grumbling at and abusing her for some time longer, and said-- "where's that fellow now, that admirer of yours? i haven't seen him to-day." "i saw his yacht go out two or three hours ago," she said, treating the remark about reginald's admiration with infinite contempt--as of late she had treated most of his speeches. "i suppose he has gone for a sail. or, perhaps, over to tortola or anegada to buy himself some food. since you will not show him much civility, i suppose he does not want to be beholden to you for even so much as a mango or a shaddock." "i've a mind to put a chain across the river's mouth and stop him ever coming into the river again." but while he spoke he started at a thought that came into his mind, and said-- "my god! suppose he is gone to the island where he knows the treasure was removed to! suppose that! and to dig it up and be off with it. barbara!" he almost shrieked, "which is that island--where is it?" "offer him the fair half he requires," she said, "and find out. that's the best thing you can do." people who live in civilised places do not often see a man with the temper of a wild beast exhibit that temper. there are many men with such tempers, it is true, in the most enlightened and refined spots; but their surroundings force them into some sort of decency, however much they may be raging inwardly. here, in coffin island, civilisation was, if not nonexistent, at least at a discount, and joseph alderly, who had the disposition of a tiger without the tiger's redeeming quality--love for its own kind--gave way at barbara's last remark to such a tempest of fury as would have disgraced that animal. he rushed at his sister, howling, cursing and blaspheming, with the evident intention of hurling her over the cliff, which she--agile as a deer--avoided, so that had he not thrown himself down violently, he must have gone over instead; and then he gave his vile infirmity full swing. curses on her, on crafer, even on himself, poured from his mouth; he dug his heels into the earth and kicked stones and, pebbles away from him as though they were living creatures which could feel his fury; and all the time he interlarded his blasphemy with such remarks as, "it is mine, mine, mine. i will have it, even though i cut his throat. mine! mine! mine! one half--my god! one half!" thus the savage exhibited his temper without restraint; it was his only manner of doing so. had he been an english gentleman, he would probably have had just the same temper, only it would have taken a different shape. he would have browbeaten his wife or female kin, have bullied his servants, and probably kicked his dog. and then, as alderly soon did, he would have calmed down, feeling much relieved! barbara waited until at last he seemed quieter--regarding him with scorn, though not surprise, since she knew his disposition--when she said: "i don't think you understand mr. crafer. like all his countrymen he can be very firm, i imagine, and like all english sailors"--and there was a perceptible accentuation of the word "english"--"he seems very brave. you won't frighten him." he still muttered and mumbled to himself--though it seemed to her he was meditating something all through the end of his paroxysm--and at last he said: "when is he coming back? i suppose you know." "how should i know, and why should he come back? your welcome has not been very warm, and, as you say, he may have gone to the other island where the treasure has been removed to." again at this, to him, awful suggestion, it seemed as if his brutal fury was going to break out once more, but this time, by an effort that was no doubt terrific, he calmed himself and was contented to exclaim: "i don't believe that! if he came to fetch it away, why didn't he do so before now? there was no one to interfere with him. you may depend it's all a lie--the treasure's here in my island, and he hasn't dug it up because he couldn't. he was afraid of you before i came back." "my admirer--and afraid of me! well!" exclaimed barbara, with a different note of scorn in her voice now. "or he was playing at being your admirer to throw dust in your eyes and get away with it all somehow." here barbara shrugged her shoulders; but even that significant gesture was allowed to pass also without an explosion. he was calming himself, taming himself, she saw plainly, and she guessed at once that he had a reason for what he did. what was that reason? she resolved to know. "i suppose i must yield," he said, with a strange look in his eyes. "barbara, we must give in. you go and see him and tell him i'll go halves. though it's a cruel shame, a wicked shame." "is it? i don't think so. he came all the way from england to get it all for himself, and it was only when he found that there were descendants of simon on the island that he resolved to give it--to share it!" she corrected herself. "well, we must do it. but to think of his taking half away! when will he come back?" "i tell you i don't know." her brother again plunged into meditation. then he said: "you go down to the mouth of the river and watch till he comes in. you can talk to him better than i can--you're what they call a lady, i suppose. at any rate, you're edycated. then tell him what i say--that i'll give in and go shares--that is, if you can't wheedle him into taking less. you're a fine-looking girl, barbara, as good a looking girl as ever i've seen in jamaica or darien, or even up to new york; if you played your cards right we could get the lot out of him." the girl shrank away from him with such a look of disgust--for the odious leer upon his face told her quite as plainly as his words did, if not more so, what he meant--that he refrained from continuing. whatever plot he was maturing--and he was maturing a deep-laid one--he saw that this was not the way to work it. therefore he continued his instructions. "go down and meet him when he comes in. it will be to-night when the tide sets here from tortola. then come home and tell me. and to-morrow--" he said the word "to-morrow" slowly, and with a sound in his voice that roused her--"to-morrow, if he's willing, we'll get to work. now go." she turned on her heel without a word beyond saying "very well," and in a moment she was gone, her lithe form disappearing instantly amongst the bamboos and spanish bayonets, the poinsettias and begonias, that grew up close to the plateau and beyond the chattering of the aroused _vert-verts_ and _qu'est-ce qu'il dit's_, there was nothing to show that she had set out upon her errand. he, the savage owner of that beautiful island, sat exactly where he had been sitting so long, still muttering to himself, laughing once or twice, and repeating over and over again the words, "to-morrow, to-morrow." and as he did so, a pleasing vision came before his eyes, and only once it was marred--by what seemed to be a great wave of blood passing before them. otherwise, it showed him all that could gladden such a heart as his. a southern gambling-hell with the tables piled with gold, all of which he was winning for himself by the aid of the vast capital he possessed. a gambling-hell with the lights turned down low for coolness, and with iced drinks being passed about to all therein; a place through which the sound of soft music was borne, in which fair-haired women caressed him, and made much of him. then, next, he saw a verdant hill above a summer sea, a villa with marble steps and corridors; outside, the splashing of fountains amidst the palms around them. and still the golden-haired women were ever present, contending with each other for his favours--his, the wealthiest man in those tropic regions! that was the vision he saw, before rising and going slowly down the path that led to the beach where his patched-up cutter was moored. chapter xxxvi. beware! the girl went on her mission willingly enough--indeed, had her brother not ordered her to go and watch for the return of reginald, she had quite determined in her own mind some time before to seek him out, and to wait for his coming back. for she, who had observed joseph carefully all her lifetime, could read his nature as easily as a book; she knew what those tempests of fury, followed by an enforced self-subduing, meant. above all, she knew what the sudden determination on his part to share the treasure--or the appearance of sudden determination--meant also. it meant either trickery, or violence, or murder. most probably the latter! his greed for money to squander on himself had always been great, even from boyhood. in those days, and before he could earn anything for himself, he would rob his father of small sums, pilfering them from his pocket when he slept, or from places where he kept his earnings; later on, if a goat or a sheep were taken by him to tortola and sold, there would be always some dispute about the price obtained, always something missing. and when he was a man the scenes between him and his father, the fights and the ill-treatment to which old alderly was subjected, were sufficient to make him stand forth in very distinct characters. therefore, she knew that he intended something now against reginald crafer--she felt perfectly sure that never would her brother allow the latter to become possessed of one-half of whatever buried treasure there might be. what his exact intentions were she could not, of course, make sure. it might be that he meant to watch him, until, in some way, the spot where the treasure was should be revealed, when, by some trickery, joseph would manage to secure it all; it might be that he had resolved to do the worst and slay him. for, if he could do that, then he would become possessed of the papers which told where the treasure was, and, since he was able to read enough, she thought, to decipher even the crabbed, indistinct characters in the writing, as she had seen them to be, to thus possess himself of all. and she knew, too, that whatever joseph did would be done by stealth and craft--the only way in which he ever worked when not consumed by his passion--and, therefore, he was doubly to be suspected and guarded against. all through the warm tropical afternoon she sat on by the bank of the river; it was the very spot, as she knew, or thought she knew, where two centuries ago simon alderly had slain the diver--thinking always, and taking no heed of all the multitudinous animal life around her. the humming-birds hovered in front of her, bright specks of gorgeous colour; the butterflies, representing in their brilliant bodies every known hue, flitted backwards and forwards; sometimes a monkey peered at her with wide-open eyes from moriche and bamboo, and insects of numerous varieties crept about the bush-ropes and the fan-palms, while all around her was the warmth and perfume of the tropics. yet she heeded none of these things. they were the accompaniments of the whole of her young existence, and--even had they not been--she would not now have noticed them. her thoughts were intent on the saving of a human life--a life she had come to love, the life of the handsome englishman who had journeyed from far-off england to her lonely, desolate home. presently she knew that night was at hand, that it was coming swiftly. the atmosphere was all suffused by a rich saffron hue, into which the crimson tints of the sun and the blue of the heavens were being absorbed; the sun itself was sinking over the mount behind her; even the air was cooling and becoming fresher. "if he would only come," she whispered to herself; "if he would only come before night falls." and then she resolved to go to the mouth of the river and look for him. to do so meant that she must force her way through a hundred yards of undergrowth of cacti and all kinds of clinging creepers; yet she was so anxious to see him and to warn him of the danger in which, she felt sure, he would stand on his return, that she did not hesitate a moment. therefore she plunged bodily in amongst the luxuriant vegetation, and, after a considerable amount of struggling and a numerous quantity of scratches received, stood at last upon the beach, gazing almost south towards tortola. and soon she saw that he was coming back--as she had never doubted he would come: he had not parted from her in a manner that meant a last farewell!--he was very near the island now, not a quarter of a mile away. presently he, too, saw her standing there regarding him, and, as he did so, took his handkerchief from his pocket and waved it to her. and five minutes later the _pompeia_ passed in between the river banks, so that they could speak to each other. "why! how did you get through the undergrowth, barbara?" he asked, astonished to see her on the beach, which, from the landing path, was almost inaccessible. "i wanted to see if you were coming back," she answered, "and so forced my way." "wait till i have anchored opposite the path," he said, "and i will come back with the dinghy and bring you off." and so he passed on to the usual place where he moored the yacht--simply because the path from the hut to the river came down opposite--and then, anchoring, he got into the dinghy and went to fetch her. "shall i put you ashore," he asked, "or will you come on board?" "on board," she said; "we can talk better there. ashore there may be ears hidden behind any palm or under any bush. take me on board." he looked at her with one swift glance, wondering what could have happened now, but he said nothing; and after a few strokes they stood on the deck of his little craft. then he brought her a tiny deck-chair and bade her be seated, while he leaned against the gunwale by her side. "what is it, barbara?" he asked, looking down at her. "what is it now?" "i do not know," she said, speaking very low and casting glances over to the bank of the river, as though doubting whether that other one might not be hidden somewhere beneath the thick foliage of the shore. "yet, mr. crafer, i fear." "for what?" "for you. he is meditating something. i am sure of it. he has bidden me come to you and say that, to-morrow, he will agree to share the treasure with you if you will show him where it is. no," she went on, seeing a smile appear upon reginald's face, "no, it is not so simple an ending as you think. i am certain--i feel positively sure from what i know of him--that he means to do nothing of the kind." "then why the suggestion?" he asked. "what is the use of it?" "to gain time, to have the night in which to think over and work out some scheme. perhaps," she said, leaning a little forward to him in her earnestness, so that, even in the now swift-coming darkness, he could see her large starry eyes quite clearly, "to have the night in which to attempt some injury to you. oh! mr. crafer, for god's sake be on your guard. you do not know him as i do." "have no fear," he said, touching her hand gently, as though in thanks for her warning, "have no fear. yet i will be careful. but what can he do to-night, even if he wished to do harm? i am as safe here in this little yacht as in a castle." "you do not know. with him one can never tell what he is thinking of doing--what his designs are. his life has been terribly rough, and he has lived among lawless people and in lawless places. and his desire for wealth is such that, knowing your life is the only thing that stands between him and a great sum of money, as he believes, he would hesitate at nothing. no! not even at taking that life." then she told him of the incident of the gun, and how she had let it fall into the sea so as to put it--the only firearm in the place--out of harm's way. he thanked her again for this precaution for his safety, and then she said that she must go. it was dark now, and doubtless her brother would be waiting for reginald's answer, since she thought it very probable that he was quite as well aware that the _pompeia_ was once again anchored in the river as she was herself. "heaven bless you, barbara, for your kindly, generous nature, and, above all, for your thought for me," reginald exclaimed. "that i shall remember it always you cannot doubt. and be sure i will be very careful, even here, aboard. though i do not see what he can do. our old friend, simon, would have attacked nicholas openly if the circumstances had been similar, and they would have fought it out to the grim death. your brother can't do that, and--short of an open fight in the river--he can do nothing. therefore, barbara, have no fear for me. and i am armed, too. see!" and with a smile he showed her a neat little revolver--one of webley's new express--a powerful weapon, though light and handy. "god grant it may not come to that!" she answered, with a shudder. "bad as he is, it would break my heart if he should die at your hands." "it shall not come to that," reginald replied. "i only showed it to you to ease your mind. and you may be sure that since he has no firearms i would not use one on him." then, as he put her ashore in the dinghy he said that, of course, she would tell her brother that he was willing to come to terms. "that is," he explained, "to go halves. which halves mean that i am looking after your interests, you know, and----" "pray, pray," she interposed, "do not let us even think of such things now. if i have misjudged him, as i hope most earnestly i have, then there will be time to talk about shares and so forth. if i have read him aright----" but here she broke off with a little shiver, and, holding out her hand to him as they stood on the river's brink, wished him "good-night." "good-night!" he exclaimed. "good-night! why, surely, i may accompany you part of the way at least? i always do so when we are any distance from your home." "no," she answered, "no. go back at once to your yacht. at once, i say, and get on board her. oh! if you did but know the terror i am in for your safety." "barbara!" he exclaimed. "barbara! why! it is a dream, a fantasy----" "no," she said, "no. it is no dream, no fantasy. for my sake, for my sake, i beseech you--go back and make yourself secure. believe me, i know him!" and she turned as though to run up the slight ascent. "for your sake, then, i will," he said. "for your sake. we will meet to-morrow. good-night, barbara." then he suddenly asked, anxiously--"but you--there is no danger to you?" "no! no! good-night," she said, "god keep you. oh! this dread is terrible," and then, giving him a sign to go without further loss of time, she sped up the path. he did not share at all in barbara's dread of her brother, perhaps because he was a man, and, perhaps, also, because he had not been used to witnessing years of violence on that brother's part; indeed, he believed her terrors to be purely feminine--the terrors that many women feel in all parts of the world for that worst of despots, the domestic tyrant. but being neither vain nor conceited, he did not for one moment associate those terrors with any regard she had allowed herself to conceive for him, nor, thereby, make allowances for them in that way. indeed, he had very little idea that she regarded him as anything more than a stranger, who, by the peculiar knowledge he possessed of the buried wealth, was far more interesting than the few tourists were who sometimes visited coffin island. yet he forgot she allowed him to call her barbara, while always herself addressing him with formality. he was not, however, so foolhardy as to neglect a caution given him by one who was not only interested in him but, also, thoroughly well acquainted with the scheming and violently dangerous nature of joseph alderly. he therefore, on regaining the deck of the _pompeia_, took such precautions as were possible. he drew up the little dinghy from the water and placed it on the deck parallel with the port side, and, when he entered his cabin, he was careful to leave the door open so that any outside sounds from either the river or the banks would be plainly heard. then--since there was no more to be done--he went into the cabin and, mixing himself some whisky and water, prepared to watch as long as he could keep his eyes open, making one sacrifice to the supposed necessity for a caution in so far that he decided not to lie down during the night. "there is nothing else to do," he reflected; "hardly any danger to ward off. he can't make such an attack on me as i suggested his ancestor, simon, would very likely have done, and there is no other way possible, for he cannot get on board without my knowing it, and, if he could, i am as good a man as he!" yet still he determined to watch carefully until at least the dawn had come; for then would be sufficient time to begin considering how he should meet alderly and arrange for digging up the buried treasure. chapter xxxvii. "and death the end of all." it was a particularly dark night and all was very calm. the moon did not top the eastern bank of the river until long past midnight, and the stars gave but little light. also, the silence was extreme. sometimes, it is true, he could hear the rustling of birds and small animals in the luxuriant vegetation on either bank, or catch the whisper of the soft night breezes among the _gros-gros_, the moriches, and the great leaves of the green bananas; but that was all. and sparkling all around him, as they whirled in their evolutions, were the myriads of fireflies that make every tropical acre of ground look like an illuminated garden; but, beyond these and the dim stars above the opening between the two banks, there was nothing else to be seen. even the great trunks of the trees were shrouded in gloom, and seemed nothing but dense patches on the sombre background. reginald sat on in his cabin, his pipe in his mouth, his tumbler by his side, the portholes and the door open for coolness and also for precaution's sake. and on the table upon which he leant his elbows there lay the revolver. he had promised, voluntarily promised barbara, he would not use the weapon upon her brother, who had none; yet he did not know but that, should a crisis come, he might have occasion to do so. if alderly were the scheming scoundrel the unhappy girl believed him to be, then it was by no means unlikely that he, too, might possess, secretly, a similar pistol which he had carefully kept her in ignorance of. or, since he was so big and powerful, if by any chance he could board the _pompeia_--as he might do by swimming from one of the banks--it might come to a hand-to-hand fight, in which alderly would possibly be armed with other weapons, and thereby force reginald to use his own. but he was resolved there should be no use of it unless absolutely necessary. "how quiet it all is," he meditated, as he sat there, "how undisturbed. surely barbara had no need for fear on my account! why, nicholas could hardly have been more secure when he had the island all to himself after simon alderly's death, than i am now." and this thought set his mind off into another train, a reflection of the similarity there was between him and his kinsman, and between their actions in this spot--in spite of two hundred years having rolled away. "nicholas had his galliot anchored here," he thought; "perhaps in the very spot where i am now. he, too, used the path up to the hut--not far away from here the snow was sunk--and--and--and----" he gave a start and shook himself. he had nearly fallen asleep! he was very tired, for the day had been a long one, what with sailing back from tortola--to which he had gone, as barbara surmised, to purchase provisions--and his having been now awake and on the stretch for more than eighteen hours. therefore, to try and arouse himself, he went on to the deck of the _pompeia_, and inhaled the fresh night air as he peered all around. but there was nothing to be seen, nothing. nor, had there been anything out of the ordinary, could he have seen it. the darkness was intense. he sat down again on the locker which ran round the cabin and formed a seat, sitting bolt upright this time to prevent sleep coming upon him, though all the while he kept telling himself that such precaution was unnecessary. alderly was safe asleep in his own house, he felt sure, or was sitting up drinking and carousing by himself, as, so barbara told him, was always his habit. he would sit and drink, she had said, and smoke, and as often as not play a game of cards by himself with an imaginary opponent, and go on doing so far into the night. then, when at last he was exhausted and could drink no more, he would roll off his chair on to the floor, and so lie there and sleep off his nightly debauch. he was doubtless doing that now. as reginald pondered thus, he again let his elbows rest on the table and put his head in his hands. "the air is so hot!" he murmured, unloosing his flannel shirt-collar as he did so, "so hot! and--there--is--no--danger. yet i promised her," again rousing himself, "yet--yet--alderly stabbed the diver--if he had had a revolver--in the casket--barbara----" he was asleep. asleep peacefully, though wearily, worn out with his long day; and presently there was no noise in all the tranquil night but the sound of his regular breathing, and the ripple of the little river against the bows of the _pompeia_, as it flowed down to the sea. yet once he started from his slumbers, hearing in them, as he thought, a distant shriek, and hastily went on deck, wondering if aught could have befallen the girl up at the hut, but only to find that it was some night bird that had alarmed him. for in the woods, away up towards where the alderlys dwelt, he could hear the macaws chattering--the birds which occasionally passed from one island to another--and an owl hooting. "it is nothing," he said wearily, "nothing. my nerves are overstrung--i have heard such sounds often at night since i have been here. it is nothing. they are fast asleep enough up there. and--and--i need watch no longer." so, utterly overcome now by the desire for slumber that had seized upon him, and not more than half awakened even by the visit to the deck, he stretched himself out at full length on the locker to get an hour or so of rest. yet he was careful to place the revolver near to his hand. it wanted still an hour to the time when the moon would be above the fronds of the tallest palms on the eastern bank--a time at which even all the insect life of the island seemed at last to be hushed to rest--when, to the ripple of the river and its soft lap against the yacht's forefoot, was added another sound--the sound, subdued, it is true, yet still one that would have been perceptible to anyone who was awake in that yacht--of something disturbing, something passing through the waters; but, had the sleeper awakened to hear it, he could have seen nothing. all was still too dark, too profound. but he himself was seen--seen by a pair of gleaming eyes staring at him through the cabin window, the blinds of which had not been drawn, nor the latchwork closed; a pair of eyes that glistened from out a face over which the hair, all dank and matted with water, curled in masses. the face of joseph alderly! presently an arm came through the cabin window, an arm long, bare, and muscular, the hand stretched to its fullest length, the fingers sinuous as all powerful fingers are, and striving to reach the pistol on the table, across the body of the sleeping man. yet soon they desisted; they were half a foot off where the weapon lay; any effort to project more of that arm into the cabin would almost certainly awake the sleeper. so arm and hand were withdrawn, and again the evil face of alderly gazed down upon reginald crafer. once, too, the hand that had failed in its endeavour sought its owner's breast pocket, and drew forth a long glittering knife; once through the open window it raised that knife over the other's throat--all open and bare as it was!--and then the hand was drawn back, the face and arm were withdrawn; the villain had disappeared. and still reginald slept on, unknowing how near to death he had been, how near to having the shining weapon driven through his throat. slept on and heard nothing. slept on while the lamp hanging in the cabin burnt itself out--he had not fed and trimmed it overnight--and until, above, through the fan-like leaves of palm, bamboo, and cyclanthus, there stole a ray of moonlight that shone down directly on the sleeping man's features. half an hour later he began to turn restlessly, to mutter to himself--perhaps it was the flooding of the rays of the now fully uprisen moon upon his face that was awaking him--and, gradually, to return to the knowledge of where he was. yet still he could not for a moment understand matters--the lamp was burning brightly when he went to sleep, and all was dark as pitch outside; now the cabin was illuminated by the moon, and all outside was light. then he recognised he had been asleep, and also that he was in his yacht. he turned round to get up and go on deck to see if day was breaking, and, as he did so and put his feet to the cabin floor, he started. it was covered with water--water a foot deep--half up to his knees. looking down, he perceived it shining in the rays of the moon as a large body of water always shines beneath those rays. "heavens!" he exclaimed, "she is filling, sinking! she will not float another ten minutes; the water is almost flush with her deck already." and he rushed to the cabin door. he had left that door open ere he slept, he felt positive. now it was shut. "she has listed a bit, perhaps," was the first thought that came to his mind. yet in another moment that idea was dispelled. the _pompeia_ was sinking on as even a keel as did ever any water-logged boat; there was no list in her. then, almost feeling sure of what he would discover a moment later, he tried to open the door. _it was fast_. "i knew it," he muttered through his teeth, as he shook and banged at the door--there was no time to be wasted; even now the water was on a level with the top of the locker on which he had lately slept; a few more minutes and the yacht must sink--"i knew it. it is the whole history over again. phips was locked in his cabin--damn the door and he who closed it!--and i am locked in here to sink with the boat and be drowned like a rat. there's no chance--a child could scarcely escape through those windows! oh! joseph alderly, if i ever----" he stopped. across the stream, from down by the mouth of it, there came the most awful, blood-curdling cry he had ever heard, the death cry of one who knew he was uttering his last shriek, knew that his doom was fixed. a horrid shriek, followed by the words, "help! help!"--and then silence--dense as before. "ay! call for help," muttered reginald. "whoever you are, you do not want it more than i. another five minutes and the end will have come." he looked round the cabin in hope of some means of escape presenting themselves, and his eyes lighted on the revolver. then he knew that, if he were but accorded time, only a few moments, he might get free. but more than two or three such moments would not be his; the water was nearly to his waist now. once, twice, thrice, the report of the pistol rang out from that doomed yacht, each shot shattering the lock and panels; and then one sturdy push was sufficient to force the door open against the water, and for him to be standing half in the river, half out; and at that instant he felt a heaving beneath his feet, he felt he was sinking to his shoulders, that he was swimming with nothing beneath him any longer. the yacht was gone; he had not been a minute too soon! the current was strong--the river being swollen with the recent rains--and it bore him downwards to the mouth, he not struggling against it, as he knew very well that he could easily land on the sea-beach outside. so he went with the tide until gradually he reached the outlet, and there he saw a sight that might well affright him, even after what he had gone through. he saw the face of alderly on the waters, an awful look of fear in the wide-open eyes, and the jaws tightly clenched, but with the lips drawn back from the white teeth on which the moon's rays glistened. and he saw that he was dead. "my god!" he exclaimed. "how has he died?" and as he so pondered he swam towards the villain, whose head bobbed about on the water as though there were no limbs, nor even trunk, beneath. but all the time as it turned round and round the eyes gleamed with a horrible light under the moon, and the great strong teeth glistened behind the drawn lips. another moment, and he knew how alderly had died. the water in which he swam towards him tasted salter than sea-water as it touched his lips, and its clearness was discoloured--crimson! and even as reginald seized the head of the now limbless trunk and towed it to the bank, striking out with all his power for fear of a similar dreadful fate befalling him--which was probable enough, since the shark is, like the tiger, eager for more when once its taste is whetted--he thought to himself: "out of the depths, out of the depths the past rises again and again." then, sweating with fear, he gave one last masterful side-stroke and landed safely on the shingle, dragging his gory burden after him. chapter xxxviii. the owner of the treasure. the white shark--for such it is which is the most terrible in these regions--that had taken both alderly's legs off above the knee, so that he must have soon bled to death, had doubtless done so while his intended victim was escaping from the trap he had set for reginald. each bite--for the brute must have given two--was as clean as though the limbs had been snipped-off by a pair of blunt scissors, and, as reginald regarded the mangled trunk in the moonlight, he could not but thank his maker that he had not been the next victim, for he recognised how narrow his own escape was. his experience as a sailor told him that where the sharks have found one prey they will, sometimes for weeks, hover about in expectation of another, and he could only wonder--while his wonder was tinged with devout gratitude--why he should not also by now be torn in half. as he dragged the body up the slope of the shingle, meaning to cover it over with palm leaves until barbara had seen the face--the lower part she must not be allowed to see--and then to bury it, a bundle of papers fell out of the pocket of the dead man's rough shirt, which he picked up and put in his own. it must be handed to barbara, he reflected, who was now the last of the alderlys, and consequently the heiress to all the wealth of the key! "which is," reflected reginald, "the very best thing that could possibly have happened. she will now be able to lead the life so beautiful a woman ought to lead, a life which she by her education and womanly ideas is fitted to lead. for her, nothing could be better than alderly's death." yet, when he thought of her inexperience--had she not believed that trinidad was the world!--and of how she was all alone now without kith or kin, he could not but wonder what would become of her. "at least," he pondered, "i pray she may fall into the hands of no such an adventurer as this," and he glanced at alderly's mangled body. "that would be too awful. better anything than that, even to finding her fortune gone when we dig up the key. though that would be a strange climax, too, to all that has taken place. gone! great heavens, what an idea! to think of it! to think that when we go to unearth it we may discover there is nothing to be got. the very thought makes my blood run cold. but--bah! it is nonsense. it must be there!" his blood was running cold, though not from this idea which had come into his mind, but from the wetting he had received. therefore, as soon as the sun burst upon the island once more, he stripped himself of his clothes, and, laying them out to dry, proceeded to dry himself also by the old-fashioned method of running up and down the beach. then, when but a short exposure of his garments to the sun had sufficed to render them once more wearable, he put them on again and set out for barbara's home. "though," he said to himself, "it is no easy task to break such news to her. alderly was not kind to her, and she knew his failings and despised him--yet he was her brother, and his death was awful. but it must be told." he made his way with the usual difficulty through all the entanglement of the luxuriant vegetation that grew down to the beach, and at last reached the path leading to the hut. indeed, he was eager to get there in spite of the fact that he had such dismal news to break to barbara, since he was somewhat surprised that he had neither seen nor heard anything of her now. he had almost feared to denude himself of his clothes at daybreak, thinking that at any moment the girl might come down to him--it being her custom to rise at that time--and when an hour had passed, as it had now done, he was still more astonished at not seeing her. she must know by now that her brother was not in his house; she must, have known long ago that he had not sat up carousing far into the night as was his habit. where was she? what could have happened? his fears became intensified as her house came into sight. for he soon perceived that the jalousies were not opened, and that the door on the verandah was closed--a thing he had never known before to be the case, from daybreak until late night--nay, worse, more appalling than all to him, was to see that behind the slats of the jalousie of the front room there was a light burning--the light of the lamp that stood always on the table in the middle of the living-room. springing up the wooden steps leading to the verandah, he rattled the slats in great agitation, and called loudly, "barbara! barbara, are you there?" a summons which, he thanked heaven, instantly produced a reply. he heard the bark of her dog, who knew him well now; but no answer came from her. unable to bear any further suspense, fearing the worst, namely, that her brother had murdered her before he set forth on his attempt to do as much for him, and remembering--fool that he was, as he called himself!--the shriek he had heard in the night and attributed to some of the disturbed denizens of the island, he tore the jalousie aside and entered the general room. and then he knew why barbara had not come to seek him at daybreak as was her wont. she was lying on the lounge, or rude sofa, her hands bound in front of her, her feet tied together, and in her mouth a rude gag made of a coarse pocket-handkerchief. by her side was the dog, moaning and whimpering, but making, when he entered, an attempt to jump up and fondle him. it also was tied, to the foot of the couch. "oh! barbara!" he exclaimed, rushing forward to her, while he saw with infinite thanks that her eyes were open, and that she seemed to have suffered no further brutality than being made a prisoner of. "oh! barbara! that he should have treated you so!" then in a moment he had taken the gag from her mouth and had set her free, while all the time he was speaking kindly and considerately to her, and pitying her for having been so treated. and her first words were: "thank god, you are alive! i have been picturing you to myself for hours as dead. did he not try to kill you?" "yes, barbara," he said, after a moment's pause, almost dreading to tell her the tale, yet recognising that he must do so. "yes, he tried to kill me." "how?" "by drowning. he must have bored some holes in the yacht unknown to me, when i slept. oh! barbara! i know i promised to keep careful watch, yet i was so tired, and at last i fell asleep. when i awoke the yacht was full of water--was sinking. then----" he hesitated to tell her of how he had been locked in the cabin--"i--i escaped--i swam for my life." "and he?" she asked faintly, almost in a whisper. "what of him?" "he is dead." "ah! yes," she replied, with a shiver. "i know. i heard the report of your revolver. then i knew all. oh! how i wish he had not died at your hands!" "he did not die at my hands, barbara. he was dr----; he died in the water." "tell me all," she said, still faintly. "tell me all." therefore he told her the whole of the dreadful story, omitting only the most blackening act, the double treachery and attempt of alderly to take his life without giving him one chance of escape. "i never thought to see you again," she whispered, when his recital was finished. "never, never. for," she went on, telling now her experiences, "i knew by midnight that what i had dreaded he would attempt was about to take place. at that hour he left off drinking, having taken much less than was usual all the evening, and rising he went to the cupboard, from which, though he thought i could not do so, i saw him take out his long knife. it was one he brought back from uruguay, from paysandu, where they slaughter the oxen wholesale. i have heard him say more than once that it was too good to slay beasts with, and more fit to use on men--and once he drew it upon father. so that i knew he meant ill to you. then i tried to escape to give you warning, only he would not let me. he seized me, tied me as you saw, and gagged me, though i shrieked once, hoping to alarm you--indeed, he threatened to kill me. and, at last, after he had also tied the dog--he would have slain that too, i feel sure, had it uttered one cry--he left me to the horrors of the night. without one word he went away, not even saying when he would return. and," the girl concluded, "when i heard your pistol shots i fainted from fear--fear of what was going on. oh! thank god, thank god, that he did not murder you--that you were not obliged to take his life in self-defence." "i am thankful, too," he said; "above all things, thankful for your sake." after which he added, "now, barbara, would it not be best for you to come with me and see his body? i must bury it, you know, and then i ought to go over to tortola and tell the commissioner. i suppose he should be informed of his death." "i suppose so," she said. "only--how are you to go? the yacht is lost." "there is his own boat. where is that?" but barbara could not tell him, and soon after he found out. but now he prepared to go back to the beach to bury her brother's body, and he was not altogether surprised when she refused to accompany him. "you have told me he is dead and how he died," she said. "that is enough--what more can i need? and for himself--oh! why should i see him? he never cared for me as a brother should, his last act was one of cruelty to me, and he went forth to murder you. moreover, he was callous about father's death, did indeed rejoice in it, i believe, because by it he became master of the place. no, i will not go and see him; i could not bear to look upon him again. and," she concluded, "my only regret is that you should have the task of burying him. it would have been better almost had he sunk to the bottom of the river." therefore reginald went off upon this duty, but before he did so he gave to barbara the water-soaked packet of papers which he had taken from alderly's shirt-pocket. "they fell out," he said, "after i had brought him ashore. there was nothing else. the knife you speak of must have sunk to the bottom; perhaps he even tried to defend himself against the shark with it in his last moments. we shall never know!" nor did he ever know how that long uruguay knife had once been nearly thrust into his breast as he lay sleeping; nor that with the knife, which had, indeed, sunk to the bottom of the river, had also sunk the auger with which he had bored half-a-dozen holes (each of the circumference of an ordinary cork) in the bottom of the _pompeia_. one thing did, however, strike him as strange as he meditated over it all, namely, that from the time when alderly must have bored those holes in the yacht to the time when she sank a considerable period had undoubtedly elapsed. and he wondered if it was during that period that he had managed to get on board and close the cabin door. then, as he was burying him, he knew; he found out that his would-be murderer had indeed visited the _pompeia_. for he was mistaken when he told barbara earlier that there was nothing else on her brother's body. as he prepared to put the trunk into the hole he had dug for it--while still the fixed open eyes stared up at him, this time in the morning's sunlight, and still the beautifully white teeth gleamed in that light--he observed that, besides the papers which had dropped from his shirt, there were still some others that had remained within the pocket. and drawing them out he saw that, all soaked as they were like the others, they were the narrative of nicholas crafer. "so," he thought, while he felt faint and sick as he mused--"so he was in the cabin, after all! heavens! he must have crept in while i slept, have rifled my pockets in the dark when the lamp had gone out, have--faugh!--had his foul hands all about me! thank god! he must have come when the light had burnt out, otherwise he would have seen the pistol." he never knew that the ruffian had, in truth, known the pistol was there, but had forgotten, or feared to use, it when in the cabin later on. he tossed the remains into the hole he had dug, touching them with the greatest disgust and loathing, and then covered the spot up hurriedly and stamped the earth down over it, and took his way back to barbara. and, as he went, he determined that he would not tell her of this further instance of villainy on her brother's part. henceforth she should learn no more of the workings of that wicked heart and brain. when he reached the hut he saw her on the verandah, seated in the usual chair and with tears in her eyes. the papers he had given her were stretched out on a table before her, and, as he mounted the steps, she held out one to him and bade him read it. a glance showed that it was a will made by her father, a will properly drawn up and attested at some lawyer's office in tortola; a will by which everything was left to her, including the island and the treasure if ever found--indeed, all that he possessed. "because," he read, in the cramped legal hand of the person who had drawn it out, "of the cruelty, the greed and the evil temper of my son to me, as well as his ill-treatment of me and my dear daughter, barbara, i give and bequeath to her all and everything of which i may die possessed, including coffin island, any buried treasure that may chance to be found," etc., etc., etc. "great heavens!" reginald thought to himself, as he handed her back the will, "there was no end to the scoundrel's wickedness. how could this villain be barbara's brother?" chapter xxxix. the approaching search. reginald found joseph alderly's boat on the same evening, when he was out on a tour about the coast of the island on the lookout for it. as he suspected, alderly had brought it round to the neighbourhood of the river's mouth, preferring to get at him that way instead of by the path down from his house. his reasons for doing so might have been manifold, the young man knew very well--reasons that would, doubtless, at once occur to such a scheming brain as that of the dead ruffian. for, independently of the fact that he would have strongly wished to avoid any encounter with him on shore--and, for aught he knew, reginald might be ashore at any period of the night--he might have brought his cutter to that neighbourhood so as to be able to get away from the island at once, after the sinking of the _pompeia_ had been accomplished. for instance, had his plan succeeded he could have sailed to anegada or tortola within two or three hours from the time of the crime being committed, and, arriving at either place in the night, could have very easily induced the belief that he had anchored much earlier than he had actually done. in those spots very little, if any, notice is taken after dark of what boats are about--especially such boats as alderly's, which are common all over the islands--and his _alibi_ would consequently have held good when reginald was reported missing. and even the report of his being missing would not have spread abroad for probably some time after the event. none but tourists came to coffin island, and barbara would have been unable to get away from it; while, since the _pompeia_ would have disappeared for ever from human eyes, no one could have absolutely said that her temporary owner was dead. he might just as well have gone off with her to some other island as she have sunk to the bottom of the river, and alderly could, therefore, have returned without his sister being able to advance one proof that reginald crafer had been made away with. "though," said reginald to himself, as he mused over the matter while he inspected alderly's own boat, "if i had been drowned after she heard the pistol shots, she would certainly have thought i had died trying to defend myself. and, had her scoundrelly brother managed to survive me, barbara would, if i mistake not, have taxed him very plainly with my death." he found the cutter anchored in about three fathoms of water, and had to get out to her in such a crazy, water-logged punt--in which alderly must himself have come ashore--that he feared every moment the thing would sink under his weight, and expose him to the chance of a similar fate to that which had overtaken its owner. however, it was sounder than it looked, and, on inspecting the larger craft, he came to the conclusion that she would be navigable across to tortola if she escaped bad weather--of which there were no signs now. the dead man had managed to patch her up in a manner very creditable to his knowledge of seacraft, and to set right the injuries she had received when cast ashore; so that, as far as the journey over to the commissioner was concerned, he might start at once. "though," he pondered, as he inspected the cutter and found nothing inside her beyond her ordinary gear but a bottle of rum, some meat and coarse bread, and a pipe--"though there is no reason why i should hurry myself. we had better begin to dig up the treasure now, i think, and, meanwhile, this dog's hole of a boat will serve for my habitation as well as the poor _pompeia_, though it's not quite so sweet and wholesome." whereon he hauled up her anchor, got her round to the river, and moored her as near as possible over the spot where the sunken yacht lay. "i may have to pay juby a good deal, for her," he mused, as he went up the path to barbara's house. "however, we ought to find the wherewithal on the key to do so. i suppose she will give me enough to do that." and he laughed to himself as the thought passed through his mind. barbara was eating her evening meal when he reached the hut, and he sat down to share it with her, telling her that henceforth she would have to keep him in food as long as they were together. "i had loaded the _pompeia_ up with all sorts of good things such as are to be procured in the islands and at their stores," he said, trying to be gay and also to brighten her up, "but i might have saved myself the trouble. they are at the bottom of the river, and there they will stay until they are rotten. so, barbara, i must live on you." she gave him one swift glance from the sweet hazel eyes under the straight black eyebrows--eyes whose lids were red now from long weeping--and he understood it well enough. he knew that she would give him everything she possessed in the world, including her very life, as well as the fortune that was now to be hers--if old nicholas had made no mistake, and if no one had ever lighted on the key and its contents between the time of his departure and the coming of the other barbara. "by-the-bye," he said, as they ate their supper side by side, and barbara tried to put such choice morsels of her poor plain food as there were on his plate, which attention he managed sometimes to avoid--"by-the-bye, we don't know after all what we are really going to discover. nicholas managed to lose one of the most important parts of his manuscript, the list, as he calls it, of part of what he found. it is a good thing he didn't mislay the description of the key and the measurements as well. if he had done that we should have been in a fix." "but," said barbara, "he has said what is in the long box. we know that, at any rate. surely that's a fortune in itself?" "what! six thousand pounds! why, barbara, when you go out into the world, the real world, london, the continent, swagger german and swiss places in the summer, and rome and the riviera in the winter, you'll find what a little bit of money six thousand pounds make. no! nick's fifty thousand 'guineas' must be found for you before you become anything like a swell heiress with a romantic history, run after by all the men for your beauty and your wealth." "don't--don't talk like that!" the girl said. "it pains me to hear you joking like that. i know nothing of the places you mention, and as to men running after me--oh, don't, don't! and besides, you have forgotten--it is not mine." "every penny of it!" exclaimed reginald, "except what mr. juby wants for the yacht if uninsured." "no! no! no!" she said. "remember, it is not in the island--my island, i suppose, now. the keys are as much yours, or anyone else's, as mine. and if it had been on the island, and we had dug it up, i would not have taken it. if you would not have shared it with me--i--i--well, i would have thrown it into the sea." "what a nice ending to poor old nick's troubles and labours here in finding it, and at home in writing his long account in that queer fist of his! and also to all that your people have gone through, from your namesake downwards. no, no, barbara! we won't throw it back into the sea, at any rate. and to-morrow we'll dig it up. shall we?" this was agreed upon, and then reginald prepared to leave her. he offered to stay in the house if she felt nervous--as she had once before implored him to do; but now she said, "no, she was not nervous. she feared nothing now. there was no one else who could come to harm him or her; the island was theirs and theirs alone." he noticed that she called it "theirs" and not "hers," but made no remark on the subject, since an idea had arisen in his mind: he knew now what the future of the treasure, of barbara, and of himself must be!--and he proceeded to arrange for their movements on the morrow. "it will be low water two hours after daybreak," he said, "and by that time i will have brought the cutter and the boat round to the strip of beach nearest to the keys. you might meet me there, barbara, and bring some food and fresh water, and then we will begin. meanwhile, let me have whatever tools and implements you possess for digging. i will take them with me and bring them in the cutter in the morning." in the shed behind the hut they found what was required, an old spade and a nearly new one, a pickaxe and some ropes--for the alderlys, father and son, had had to attend to their garden in this tropical island almost as much as though they had lived in europe--and these would be enough, he thought. so, shouldering them, he bade her "good-night"--it seemed to each as though their hands were clasped together longer and more tightly now than they had ever been before!--and went his way down to the river once more. it would have been strange if, to-night--the night before the story, that his ancestor had written in those long past and forgotten years, was to be realised--he should not have had a host of thoughts whirling through his brain; if past and present had not been strangely confused and jumbled up together in that brain. there lay the cutter, a dark indistinct mass, in the midst of the stars reflected from above; in the very self-same spot where so many other small vessels, all connected with him, with barbara, and with the treasure, had lain before. itself the property of a villain whose villainy was inherited through centuries, it occupied the spot in that little river where once the _etoyle_ had been moored, where she had been sunk, and where simon alderly and his murdered victim, the diver, had got ashore. also there, or close by, had been the galliot of honest nicholas with its dying and dead crew, and with nicholas sleeping, or trying to sleep, in that place of death, or watching alderly in his murderous madness as he slew his companion. and he pictured to himself the sloop with the unknown martin having probably been anchored there before those days--doubtless as full of reckless, bloodstained scoundrels as was the _etoyle_ herself; he remembered how, not twenty-four hours before, the graceful and pretty _pompeia_ had ridden at anchor on the river's bosom--and now she, too, had gone to join the other wrecks below the water. he shuddered as these thoughts passed through his mind; shuddered at all that the treasure had led to in the way of murder and death. "it was here, here where i stand," he whispered to himself, "that the diver was slain; there, in the river, that the bones of the pirates lie, and also those of the crew of the galliot; above--where she, the pure outcome of so much evil, dwells--that simon alderly died mad and without time to repent." a slant of the rising moon gleamed through the wood on to the bank and played on the waters of the river lower down; the ray was thrown upon the very spot where, last night, he had seen the staring eyes and the glistening teeth of joseph alderly, as the limbless body swirled round with the stream--and he started and shivered. "heavens!" he exclaimed, "it is a charnel-house, a place of horror! i--i cannot sleep in that boat to-night." he turned from the accursed spot--all beautiful as it was now beneath the rising moon, and illuminated with myriads of fireflies, while over and above all was the luscious perfume of tropical plants and flowers--and went his way through the thick underbrush to a part of the shore beyond the spot, where the body of joseph alderly had been buried, avoiding that place as he proceeded. then, when he had gone some distance, he chose a bit of the beach high and dry above the line of the already receding sea, and, laying himself down upon it, gazed far over the waters to where a few lights sparkled at intervals from the little island of tortola. but ere he slept, and when a deep sense of fatigue was stealing over him, he rose once more, and, kneeling down by the spot he had selected, he prayed long that, whatever the morrow might bring forth, at least one thing might be granted. he prayed that all the bloodshed, and the cruelty that that treasure had been the cause of for more than two centuries, had ended at last, never more to be renewed--he prayed that, henceforth, it might bring only happiness and peace in its train. "for her, for her," he whispered. "for her and for me." and, feeling sure that his prayer was heard and would be granted, he laid himself down again and soon was sleeping peacefully. chapter xl. the search. as the dawn came, and a cool wind blew over the water and brushed his cheek, he arose from a night of refreshing slumber--the first for two days--and took his way back to the cutter. then, reaching her, he soon unmoored, made the boat fast astern, and, getting down the river, sailed round the island to the spot where the keys were. it took him an hour to fetch the beach in two tacks, and then he saw that, early as he was, barbara was there before him, and that she was seated on the shore, the dog at her feet and a basket by her side. this morning her eyes were no longer red--she had done with weeping for her vile brother, he thought--and her colour, always beautiful, except since the events of the last few days had driven it all away, had now come back to her. she, too, he knew, had slept peacefully at last, and in that peaceful rest all her loveliness had returned. "now, barbara," he said, after they had exchanged their morning greetings, he from the boat, and she from the shore, "we'll call the boat away, and off we go to your inheritance. in a few hours you will, i trust, be put in possession of it." saying which, he anchored the cutter, got into the boat and cast her off, and so rowed ashore for barbara. he had found out that the capabilities of this boat--crazy as it seemed--were quite equal to carrying them, and the implements for digging, out to the key a hundred yards off, and he also knew that, by leaving barbara on the middle key when they had found the treasure, he could convey each of the boxes, or coffers, back to the island one by one. then, as to the final removal of them and their owner from coffin island--well, that would all be arranged for later. a few minutes only and they stepped out upon the soft wet sand of the middle key--they stood upon the place that, perhaps, no other foot had trodden since nicholas left it more than two hundred years ago. there was nothing to bring anyone to that particular atom of an island among all the thousands upon thousands of islands with which the marine surface of the world is dotted, not even a search for the turtles and the eggs they laid. for, in these regions, those creatures are so common that nobody desiring to procure one would have even troubled to visit the middle key while the outer ones were easier of access. "i begin to feel very nervous now we have reached here, and the search is about to begin," barbara said. "oh! what shall we find--or shall we find anything?" "make your mind easy," reginald replied, although he himself felt unaccountably excited, too, at what was before them. "the story left by nicholas bears the stamp of truth on every line of it; i would stake my existence on his having buried the boxes as he wrote. and as to their having been disinterred, why! there is no possibility of that. come, let us begin." he looked round at the sea as he spoke, and scanned the little crisping waves as they rolled on to the key's shore, and, involuntarily and sailor-like, searched the horizon to see if there was any sail in sight, any likelihood of their being observed. yet, as he knew and told the girl by his side, there was no chance of that. "on this, the east side of the key," he said, "there is nothing nearer than the cape de verd islands and the african coast, and nothing passes east or west within twenty miles of this place. we will make a beginning." then they sat down on the brushwood of the island, disturbing as they did so a great two-hundred-pound turtle that crawled gasping away, and reginald, taking out the now water-stained and blurred pages of nicholas, began to read over carefully his measurements and instructions for finding the exact spot where the buried treasure lay. "'from the north side of the middle key is fifty-one good strides of three feet each,'" he repeated from the paper; "'from the south side is fifty-three, from the east is forty-nine, from the west is fifty strides and a half.' barbara, let us measure. i will begin from this, the south side." very carefully he paced out the strides, "good ones," as his predecessor had directed, only, instead of sticking in the ground a sword--which, of course, he did not possess here--he put a large white stone. then, as nicholas had himself done, three times did he go over the ground, making all the strides correspond with the ancient manuscript; and at last he said to barbara, "now we will dig." "it is only three feet from the surface to the topmost turtle shell," he remarked, as he took off his light jacket and rolled up his sleeves. "ten minutes will show if we have hit it right." at the end of those ten minutes he found that, though he had made a mismeasurement of a foot and a half from the east to west, he had otherwise judged his distance with sufficient accuracy. the treasure, certainly the topmost turtle shell, was there. the spade struck against the edge of that shell instead of the exact middle of it; in a few minutes more, by digging the sand up further to the west, the whole of it was exposed, its convex side rising towards them. "we have found it," he exclaimed. "we have found it, barbara! the treasure is--yours!" * * * * * * what was in the oblong box has been told by nicholas himself, therefore it is not necessary to write down an account of its contents again. roughly, too, he has told what he found in the first two "coffers" or chests, including the "grinning skull," which they, of course, found also. but nicholas's list had been lost, therefore one somewhat more full shall now be given, leaving his account of the first strong box to speak for itself. and also in the second, "the spanish pieces of eight, the portyguese crusadoes, english crowns, and many more french coins as well as hundreds of gold pieces of our kings and queens away back to elizabeth," were all there as he has described, so neither need they be again set down. it was when they came to the third coffer that their curiosity was the most aroused, for with it began their search for something he had left no account of, something that was described in that "list" which was missing. therefore, they opened it with almost trembling hands--when it had been brought up to the surface--wondering what they should find. on the top lay a deerskin, dressed and trimmed, showing that whenever it might originally have been put in, it had at least belonged to people who had some of the accessories of civilisation about them, since, had it belonged to wild and savage persons, it would have been hardly dressed at all, nor would it have possessed any trimming at the edges. this they lifted off, only to come to a variety of smaller skins, such as those of fox, goat, and sheep, which it was easy to perceive were simply used as wrappers to large substances within them. "these coverings," said reginald, as he unwrapped one, "seem to point to england, or at least europe, as the spot whence they came; well, let us--ah!" there rolled from out the one he was at that moment unwinding a beaker a foot high, of a dull copper colour, much embossed with leaves and flowers. yet, dull as it was, even their slight knowledge was enough to tell them it was gold. also its shape was antique enough to show that it was no new piece of workmanship, even when simon alderly had found it--if he did find it, as seemed most likely; its long, thin lip, thin neck, and big body proclaimed it of the middle ages at least. "so," said reginald, giving it a rub with some of the sand by his side, under which the dim coppery hue turned to a more golden yellow, "this is number three. if the other box is full of such gold ornaments the find will be worth having." in this box itself there were no more gold beakers, only, instead, it was full of silver plate of all kinds, and all enveloped in skins. there were also two more beakers, but in silver, many cups and chalices, some with covers to them and some without, several silver ewers, a long vase all neck and spout, some extremely ancient candelabras, and a woman's silver dagger, known in old days as a wedding knife. "oh!" said barbara, appalled at the sight of objects so unfamiliar to her, who had never drunk out of aught but calabashes, gourds, and cheap earthenware--"oh! it seems a sin to dig all these beautiful things up." "a greater one to let them lie in the earth," said reginald with a laugh. "come, let's go on to number four and see what he has got inside him." "now, barbara," reginald said next, as they began on number four. "shut your eyes until i tell you to open them." the girl obeyed--indeed, all through this treasure hunt, or, as it had now become, treasure inspection, they were more like a boy and girl playing with new toys than a grown man and a young woman just about to leave her teens behind her--and, when he told her to open them, she saw that he had come upon a number of little plump bags tied at the neck. these bags were made of a coarse kind of linen cloth, or russia duck, and were much discoloured; yet, rough as they were, they did not prevent the impression of coins being seen inside. "here we come to the money--let's hope it's not copper!" exclaimed reginald. again, when they opened the first bag and poured out the contents into barbara's lap, it looked as though they had found copper; but again, as before, what seemed copper was in reality gold. but the pieces which they saw were such as they had never seen the like of before, such as they never were able to guess the name of until some time afterwards, when more experienced numismatists than this young sailor and the girl by his side had the handling of them. what they absolutely found was: first, a bag full of elizabeth "soveraines," valued in her time at s. each, it containing two hundred and six of these pieces. then there was a bag full of angels of the same reign, valued at s. each, of angelets at s., and of quarter angels at s., there being of these smaller coins three hundred and eleven in the little sack. the third bag they opened--a larger one--contained fifty gold crowns of henry viii.'s reign, fifty gold half-crowns of elizabeth's--the former having the figure of the king on horseback--and in it, also, were one hundred and thirty rose nobles, eighty-five double-rose nobles, eighty-three double-rose rials, or reals, each of the value of s., and two double gold crowns, these two being the largest and most valuable of any of the coins they found. "we are getting on, barbara; we shall have a nice stock to take back to the hut," reginald said, as he tied the bags up again exactly as before. "however, let's continue. this box is a monster and contains the most of all." whoever had put together all this treasure of money--as well as what was to come--was, it is certain, a methodical person; for, with the exception of the above coins of henry viii. being mixed with those of his daughter (there was not one of her sister, mary's reign), the different monarchs had been kept separate and distinct from one another. this was shown by the next three bags, two of which contained gold coins of james i.'s reign, but of no other english king. of these, the first had in it two hundred and one spur-rials of the value of s. each--these coins being so called from the rays, issuing out of the sun upon them, resembling the rowels of spurs--one hundred and three of the single rose rials, and four single crowns. the second bag had exactly one hundred single crowns by themselves; the third had two hundred and two small gold pieces, french ones, they being crowns of the sun as originally coined by louis xi., and valued in england in elizabeth's time at s. each. "well, barbara," reginald said, as they finished these bags, "what do you think of your fortune as far as it has gone? after we have had some food we will go on and see what more there is." "i think," the girl replied, as she opened her basket and took from it some bread, eggs, a piece of cold roasted goat's flesh, and some of the fruit which grew in such profusion on coffin island--"i think as i have always thought, namely, that it is not my fortune but yours, and that----" "ah!" interrupted reginald. "well! we won't quarrel over that now. so i'll put my question in a different way. what do you think of the fortune as far as it has gone?" "i think it is a shame to dig it up. it seems like digging up the poor dead creatures who put it first in the vault--who wrapped it all up so carefully, and tied the money up in bags as if they felt sure the day would come when they, or those dear to them, would inherit it all. and think of what strangers it has come to, not only now but before! simon alderly had no real right to it, neither had nicholas crafer, nor have you nor i." "you or i--you, of course--mean to keep it, though, barbara. it has been ours for two hundred years: yours by the first discovery--namely, by the respected simon; mine by the second--namely, the worthy nicholas; and, in spite of any silly old laws about treasure trove, why, finding's keepings. besides, the treasure trove was two hundred years ago. our ancestors are responsible for that part of it. we, on the contrary, can show a two centuries' title--that's good enough for all the lawyers in the world, i fancy." with jokes and _badinage_ such as this the young man passed the luncheon, dinner, or meal-hour--whichever it should be called--away. indeed, at this time, when the long-buried wealth of the past was being at last revealed to its ultimate heirs and possessors, he was anxious above all things to keep off the discussion of whose it was, and who was to have it and who was not. as has been suggested a little earlier, _he_ saw, _he_ knew--or felt almost positive that he saw and knew--what was the final disposition of all that the key was now disgorging, only--the present was not the time to speak about that disposition to barbara. so, as much as possible, he kept to other matters in connection with the task they were now engaged upon. "whoever they were," he went on meditatively, as the simple repast drew to an end, "who originally owned it all, they must almost certainly have been our country people. although we don't either of us know what those coins are, we can at least see that they are mostly english, and all about one period, namely, elizabeth's and her successor's, james. now, let's see. charles i. succeeded james, eh, barbara?" "yes," said the girl. "yes. at school we thought charles i. the most interesting of all the english kings." "ah!" said reginald; "well, i've heard other people say differently. our chaplain in the _ianthe_, for instance, used to wrangle with the paymaster for hours about him, and call him all kinds of names. however, let's put two and two together. charles's was an uncomfortable sort of reign, for others besides himself, and all sorts of rumpusses were going on--people flying from england to america, _et cetera_. i wonder if the gentleman who owned all these things was one of those? he might be, you know, and have got drifted down here after making bad weather of it in the atlantic; or the pirates--hem!--of _his own_ day, barbara--no allusions meant to respected ancestors!--might have seized on him--or--or--half a dozen things. i don't suppose we ever shall find out." "no," she said, "i don't suppose we shall. perhaps it's better that we never should. it might interfere with _your_ enjoyment of it all." whereon reginald laughed once more, while a beautiful but tell-tale blush came to the girl's face--possibly it had dawned on her, too, by now, how the ultimate possession of the treasure might be arranged!--and then they proceeded to inspect what remained. chapter xli. the end. what did remain in this big chest was now to be examined, and they observed that the same precautions had been taken in the way of coverings and wrappings as with all the previous finds. "which," said reginald, descanting thereon as he unwound the wrappers, "shows one thing, if no more. it testifies that all the spoil belonged to the same individual, or individuals. but who was he, barbara, who was she, or who were they? that's what i want to know." it was, however, what neither he nor barbara nor anyone else were ever to know--the treasure hidden centuries ago was, indeed, found, but all knowledge of who or what they were who had so hidden it away was lost for ever. the treasure of those forgotten ones remained to come to these young people at last, but all history, record, and memory of the owners had vanished entirely from the world. "what's this?" exclaimed reginald, unwinding a roll as they continued their inspection--"what's this?" while, as he spoke, there was revealed to him a band of metal that looked as though it was a portion of some circular object. it was, in truth, the front part of an ancient coronet, or crown, having set into it five rubies and a diamond, the gold being in this case far more yellow and less coppery looking than that of the coins had been. and as reginald turned the thing about in the glowing light of the caribbean sea, the gems sparkled and winked and flashed their many-coloured rays in their eyes, as though they themselves were pleased once more to be free from the darkness in which they had lain so long. "swells in their day, no doubt," said the young man, referring to those who had once owned all these valuables, "to have worn such things." and again he exclaimed: "who on earth could they have been?" the next things they unrolled were five bars of gold, or rather lumps of gold, since instead of being of the shape and form bars are now, they were in cubes, though one was triangular. "a quarter of a pound weight each, barbara," the young man said, balancing them on his hand. "a quarter of a pound each, if an ounce. i wonder the respected one could refrain from carrying all this wealth off to his own particular barbara, or that old nicholas didn't try to get it away in the galliot." barbara only smiled--indeed, at this moment, woman as she was, she was trying the effect of the front part of the coronet as a bracelet on her arm, and was turning her wrist about to observe the flashing of the stones--and then reginald proceeded with his inspection. "hullo! what have we got now?" he exclaimed, as he unfolded the next object that came to hand. what he had got now proved to be a sword-handle, cross-shaped and broken off sharp about an inch below the silver guard-plate. in this handle, which itself was massive silver, roughly fretted so that a firm grasp might be obtained, were more precious stones, mostly diamonds, but with one or two missing from their sockets or settings. "undoubtedly swells," murmured reginald again, "or else freebooters. fancy, barbara, if, after all, the original depositor of these things was a sea-robber or pirate himself! one would imagine he could hardly have got such a collection of things otherwise. unless, on the other hand, he had been a pawnbroker, called, i believe, in those days a lombard merchant. what do you think?" "i am getting tired of finding these things," the girl said, listlessly. "i hope there are not many more." "we'll soon see." they had, however, nearly finished their work by now; the remainder of the chest's contents were soon examined. they found, to conclude, a little bag of unset gems--a handful of rubies and diamonds; they found also a gold musk ball, and a little silver casket full of musk, the aroma of which had long since departed, and they also discovered a small iron-bound box full of gold dust. some drinking cups, very small ones, they likewise found, and some pieces of ivory sawn into slabs, several extremely curious and very unwieldy rings with precious stones in them, a pouncet box in gold, and various pieces of antique lace, black with age. and this concluded their find "altogether," said reginald, "i'll bet that nicholas was not far wrong in his computation of the value of the things in his own day, and, i expect, even in these times, the contents of the oblong box and the chests won't fall far short of his 'fiftie thousand guineas.' but one thing we ought to keep for luck, barbara, and never part with--and that's the skull, or 'death,' as nick called it. it kept its watch and ward well through all the years." * * * * * * that evening, as the sun dipped below porto rico, they sat once more together, as they had so often sat in the last month, upon the verandah of barbara's house. within, in the living-room, were piled the chests and the oblong box, all having been brought from the key to the shore, and from the shore to the building, by their united efforts. and on barbara's face there was a look of sadness pitiful to see, and in her eyes the signs that the tears were not far away. "it seems," she said, speaking very low, "as though with the finding of this treasure my life is finished, even as the quest of my family is finished, too. there is nothing more to be done." "is there not, barbara?" asked reginald, also speaking low, and with more seriousness in his tone than had been apparent since they had grown such friends and intimates. "is there not? is there not a long lifetime before you in which to enjoy your new-found wealth--the wealth that has come to you after two centuries of search for it?" "oh!" she exclaimed, springing to her feet and standing before him, "why speak in that way? why say such things? the wealth is yours, yours only, and you know it. it was you who brought it to light. it was your ancestor's, who might have taken it away with him for ever had he chosen. and when it was at last found, where was it? not even on our land, on the property that is mine. what part, what share have i in it?" "i will tell you, barbara," he said, rising himself, also, and standing by her, while, if possible, his voice became now more deep and earnest. "i will tell you what part and share is yours. the share not only of all that we have to-day unearthed, but of my life. the share of everything i have in this world, even this treasure, if it is rightly mine. my sweet, i loved you almost from the very first, i loved you beyond all doubt from the time that _he_ came back, and i knew that, together, we must protect ourselves from him. barbara, i love you now, and shall love you all my life until i die. will you not share that life with me, share all with me for ever?" his arm stole round her as he spoke and he drew her softly towards him, while, as he did so, her golden head drooped to his shoulder, the soft eyes looked up at him from beneath the dark lashes, and, for the first time, their lips met. footnotes [footnote : afterwards king george i. of england.--ed.] [footnote : the drink of the navy prior to the introduction of rum by admiral vernon.] [footnote : he was astronomer royal from to , but in phips' time had made many improvements and suggestions in the necessary apparatus for divers.--j. b.-b.] [footnote : st lieutenant.] [footnote : passenger.] [footnote : peter martyr calls it a solid piece of gold, and says more than a thousand persons had seen and handled it.--j. b.-b.] [footnote : this would appear at first sight to be an error on the part of nicholas crafer. it was not so, however; cardinal bourbon was elected king of france by the league in (against henri iv.), under the name of charles x., and some coins were struck by him.--j. b.-b.] the end. blackwood's edinburgh magazine. no. cccxxxvii. november, . vol. liv. contents. adventures in texas. travels of kerim khan. the banking-house. the wrongs of women. marston; or, the memoirs of a statesman. ceylon commercial policy. a speculation on the senses. on the best means of establishing a commercial intercourse between the atlantic and pacific oceans. two dreams. the game up with repeal agitation. * * * * * adventures in texas. no. . a scamper in the prairie of jacinto. reader! were you ever in a texian prairie? probably not. _i_ have been; and this was how it happened. when a very young man, i found myself one fine morning possessor of a texas land-scrip--that is to say, a certificate of the galveston bay and texas land company, in which it was stated, that in consideration of the sum of one thousand dollars, duly paid and delivered by mr edward rivers into the hands of the cashier of the aforesaid company, he, the said edward rivers, was become entitled to ten thousand acres of texian land, to be selected by himself, or those he should appoint, under the sole condition of not infringing on the property or rights of the holders of previously given certificates. ten thousand acres of the finest land in the world, and under a heaven compared to which, our maryland sky, bright as it is, appears dull and foggy! it was a tempting bait; too good a one not to be caught at by many in those times of speculation; and accordingly, our free and enlightened citizens bought and sold their millions of texian acres just as readily as they did their thousands of towns and villages in ohio, indiana, illinois, and michigan, and their tens of thousands of shares in banks and railways. it was a speculative fever, which has since, we may hope, been in some degree cured. at any rate, the remedies applied have been tolerably severe. i had not escaped the contagion, and, having got the land on paper, i thought i should like to see it in dirty acres; so, in company with a friend who had a similar venture, i embarked at baltimore on board the catcher schooner, and, after a three weeks' voyage, arrived in galveston bay. the grassy shores of this bay, into which the river brazos empties itself, rise so little above the surface of the water, to which they bear a strong resemblance in colour, that it would be difficult to discover them, were it not for three stunted trees growing on the western extremity of a long lizard-shaped island that stretches nearly sixty miles across the bay, and conceals the mouth of the river. these trees are the only landmark for the mariner; and, with their exception, not a single object--not a hill, a house, nor so much as a bush, relieves the level sameness of the island and adjacent continent. after we had, with some difficulty, got on the inner side of the island, a pilot came on board and took charge of the vessel. the first thing he did was to run us on a sandbank, off which we got with no small labour, and by the united exertions of sailors and passengers, and at length entered the river. in our impatience to land, i and my friend left the schooner in a cockleshell of a boat, which upset in the surge, and we found ourselves floundering in the water. luckily it was not very deep, and we escaped with a thorough drenching. when we had scrambled on shore, we gazed about us for some time before we could persuade ourselves that we were actually upon land. it was, without exception, the strangest coast we had ever seen, and there was scarcely a possibility of distinguishing the boundary between earth and water. the green grass grew down to the edge of the green sea, and there was only the streak of white foam left by the latter upon the former to serve as a line of demarcation. before us was a plain, a hundred or more miles in extent, covered with long, fine grass, rolling in waves before each puff of the sea-breeze, with neither tree, nor house, nor hill, to vary the monotony of the surface. ten or twelve miles towards the north and north-west, we distinguished some dark masses, which we afterwards discovered to be groups of trees; but to our eyes they looked exactly like islands in a green sea, and we subsequently learned that they were called islands by the people of the country. it would have been difficult to have given them a more appropriate name, or one better describing their appearance. proceeding along the shore, we came to a blockhouse situated behind a small tongue of land projecting into the river, and decorated with the flag of the mexican republic, waving in all its glory from the roof. at that period, this was the only building of which galveston harbour could boast. it served as custom-house and as barracks for the garrison, also as the residence of the director of customs, and of the civil and military intendant, as headquarters of the officer commanding, and, moreover, as hotel and wine and spirit store. alongside the board, on which was depicted a sort of hieroglyphic, intended for the mexican eagle, hung a bottle doing duty as a sign, and the republican banner threw its protecting shadow over an announcement of--"brandy, whisky, and accommodation for man and beast." as we approached the house, we saw the whole garrison assembled before the door. it consisted of a dozen dwarfish, spindle-shanked mexican soldiers, none of them so big or half so strong as american boys of fifteen, and whom i would have backed a single kentucky woodsman, armed with a riding-whip, to have driven to the four winds of heaven. these heroes all sported tremendous beards, whiskers, and mustaches, and had a habit of knitting their brows, in the endeavour, as we supposed, to look fierce and formidable. they were crowding round a table of rough planks, and playing a game of cards, in which they were so deeply engrossed that they took no notice of our approach. their officer, however, came out of the house to meet us. captain cotton, formerly editor of the _mexican gazette_, now civil and military commandant at galveston, customs-director, harbour-master, and tavern-keeper, and a yankee to boot, seemed to trouble himself very little about his various dignities and titles. he produced some capital french and spanish wine, which, it is to be presumed, he got duty free, and welcomed us to texas. we were presently joined by some of our fellow-passengers, who seemed as bewildered as we had been at the billiard-table appearance of the country. indeed the place looked so desolate and uninviting, that there was little inducement to remain on _terra firma_, and it was with a feeling of relief that we once more found ourselves on board the schooner. we took three days to sail up the river brazos to the town of brazoria, a distance of thirty miles. on the first day nothing but meadow land was visible on either side of us; but, on the second, the monotonous grass-covered surface was varied by islands of trees, and, about twenty miles from the mouth of the river, we passed through a forest of sycamores, and saw several herds of deer and flocks of wild turkeys. at length we reached brazoria, which at the time i speak of, namely, in the year , was an important city--for texas, that is to say--consisting of upwards of thirty houses, three of which were of brick, three of planks, and the remainder of logs. all the inhabitants were americans, and the streets arranged in american fashion, in straight lines and at right angles. the only objection to the place was, that in the wet season it was all under water; but the brazorians overlooked this little inconvenience, in consideration of the inexhaustible fruitfulness of the soil. it was the beginning of march when we arrived, and yet there was already an abundance of new potatoes, beans, peas, and artichokes, all of the finest sorts and most delicious flavour. at brazoria, my friend and myself had the satisfaction of learning that our land-certificates, for which we had each paid a thousand dollars, were worth exactly nothing--just so much waste paper, in short--unless we chose to conform to a condition to which our worthy friends, the galveston bay and texas land company, had never made the smallest allusion. it appeared that in the year , the mexican congress had passed an act for the encouragement of emigration from the united states to texas. in consequence of this act, an agreement was entered into with contractors, or _empresarios_, as they call them in mexico, who had bound themselves to bring a certain number of settlers into texas within a given time and without any expense to the mexican government. on the other hand, the mexican government had engaged to furnish land to these emigrants at the rate of five square leagues to every hundred families; but to this agreement one condition was attached, and it was, that all settlers should be, or become, roman catholics. failing this, the validity of their claims to the land was not recognised, and they were liable to be turned out any day at the point of the bayonet. this information threw us into no small perplexity. it was clear that we had been duped, completely bubbled, by the rascally land company; that, as heretics, the mexican government would have nothing to say to us; and that, unless we chose to become converts to the romish church, we might whistle for our acres, and light our pipes with the certificate. our yankee friends at brazoria, however, laughed at our dilemma, and told us that we were only in the same plight as hundreds of our countrymen, who had come to texas in total ignorance of this condition, but who had not the less taken possession of their land and settled there; that they themselves were amongst the number, and that, although it was just as likely they would turn negroes as roman catholics, they had no idea of being turned out of their houses and plantations; that, at any rate, if the mexicans tried it, they had their rifles with them, and should be apt, they reckoned, to burn powder before they allowed themselves to be kicked off such an almighty fine piece of soil. so, after a while, we began to think, that as we had paid our money and come so far, we might do as others had done before us--occupy our land and wait the course of events. the next day we each bought a horse, or _mustang_, as they call them there, which animals were selling at brazoria for next to nothing, and rode out into the prairie to look for a convenient spot to settle. these mustangs are small horses, rarely above fourteen hands high, and are descended from the spanish breed introduced by the original conquerors of the country. during the three centuries that have elapsed since the conquest of mexico, they have increased and multiplied to an extraordinary extent, and are to be found in vast droves in the texian prairies, although they are now beginning to become somewhat scarcer. they are taken with the _lasso_, concerning which instrument or weapon i will here say a word or two, notwithstanding that it has been often described. the lasso is usually from twenty to thirty feet long, very flexible, and composed of strips of twisted ox hide. one end is fastened to the saddle, and the other, which forms a running noose, held in the hand of the hunter, who, thus equipped, rides out into the prairie. when he discovers a troop of wild horses, he manoeuvres to get to windward of them, and then to approach as near them as possible. if he is an experienced hand, the horses seldom or never escape him, and as soon as he finds himself within twenty or thirty feet of them, he throws the noose with unerring aim over the neck of the one he has selected for his prey. this done, he turns his own horse sharp round, gives him the spur, and gallops away, dragging his unfortunate captive after him, breathless, and with his windpipe so compressed by the noose, that he is unable to make the smallest resistance, and after a few yards, falls headlong to the ground, and lies motionless and almost lifeless, sometimes indeed badly hurt and disabled. from this day forward, the horse which has been thus caught never forgets the lasso; the mere sight of it makes him tremble in every limb; and, however wild he may be, it is sufficient to show it to him, or lay it on his neck, to render him as tame and docile as a lamb. the horse taken, next comes the breaking in, which is effected in a no less brutal manner than his capture. the eyes of the unfortunate animal are covered with a bandage, and a tremendous bit, a pound weight or more, clapped into his mouth; the horsebreaker puts on a pair of spurs six inches long, and with rowels like penknives, and jumping on his back, urges him to his very utmost speed. if the horse tries to rear, or turns restive, one pull, and not a very hard one either, at the instrument of torture they call a bit, is sufficient to tear his mouth to shreds, and cause the blood to flow in streams. i have myself seen horses' teeth broken with these barbarous bits. the poor beast whinnies and groans with pain and terror; but there is no help for him, the spurs are at his flanks, and on he goes full gallop, till he is ready to sink from fatigue and exhaustion. he then has a quarter of an hour's rest allowed him; but scarcely does he begin to recover breath, which has been ridden and spurred out of his body, when he is again mounted, and has to go through the same violent process as before. if he breaks down during this rude trial, he is either knocked on the head or driven away as useless; but if he holds out, he is marked with a hot iron, and left to graze on the prairie. henceforward, there is no particular difficulty in catching him when wanted; the wildness of the horse is completely punished out of him, but for it is substituted the most confirmed vice and malice that it is possible to conceive. these mustangs are unquestionably the most deceitful and spiteful of all the equine race. they seem to be perpetually looking out for an opportunity of playing their master a trick; and very soon after i got possession of mine, i was nearly paying for him in a way that i had certainly not calculated upon. we were going to bolivar, and had to cross the river brazos. i was the last but one to get into the boat, and was leading my horse carelessly by the bridle. just as i was about to step in, a sudden jerk, and a cry of 'mind your beast!' made me jump on one side; and lucky it was that i did so. my mustang had suddenly sprung back, reared up, and then thrown himself forward upon me with such force and fury, that, as i got out of his way, his fore feet went completely through the bottom of the boat. i never in my life saw an animal in such a paroxysm of rage. he curled up his lip till his whole range of teeth was visible, his eyes literally shot fire, while the foam flew from his mouth, and he gave a wild screaming neigh that had something quite diabolical in its sound. i was standing perfectly thunderstruck at this scene, when one of the party took a lasso and very quietly laid it over the animal's neck. the effect was really magical. with closed mouth, drooping ears, and head low, there stood the mustang, as meek and docile as any old jackass. the change was so sudden and comical, that we all burst out laughing; although, when i came to reflect on the danger i had run, it required all my love of horses to prevent me from shooting the brute upon the spot. mounted upon this ticklish steed and in company with my friend, i made various excursions to bolivar, marion, columbia, anahuac, incipient cities consisting of from five to twenty houses. we also visited numerous plantations and clearings, to the owners of some of which we were known, or had messages of introduction; but either with or without such recommendations, we always found a hearty welcome and hospitable reception, and it was rare that we were allowed to pay for our entertainment. we arrived one day at a clearing which lay a few miles off the way from harrisburg to san felipe de austin, and belonged to a mr neal. he had been three years in the country, occupying himself with the breeding of cattle, which is unquestionably the most agreeable, as well as profitable, occupation that can be followed in texas. he had between seven and eight hundred head of cattle, and from fifty to sixty horses, all mustangs. his plantation, like nearly all the plantations in texas at that time, was as yet in a very rough state, and his house, although roomy and comfortable enough inside, was built of unhewn tree-trunks, in true back-woodsman style. it was situated on the border of one of the islands, or groups of trees, and stood between two gigantic sycamores, which sheltered it from the sun and wind. in front, and as far as could be seen, lay the prairie, covered with its waving grass and many-coloured flowers, behind the dwelling arose the cluster of forest trees in all their primeval majesty, laced and bound together by an infinity of wild vines, which shot their tendrils and clinging branches hundreds of feet upwards to the very top of the trees, embracing and covering the whole island with a green network, and converting it into an immense bower of vine leaves, which would have been no unsuitable abode for bacchus and his train. these islands are one of the most enchanting features of texian scenery. of infinite variety and beauty of form, and unrivalled in the growth and magnitude of the trees that compose them, they are to be found of all shapes--circular, parallelograms, hexagons, octagons--some again twisting and winding like dark-green snakes over the brighter surface of the prairie. in no park or artificially laid out grounds, would it be possible to find any thing equalling these natural shrubberies in beauty and symmetry. in the morning and evening especially, when surrounded by a sort of veil of light-greyish mist, and with the horizontal beams of the rising or setting sun gleaming through them, they offer pictures which it is impossible to get weary of admiring. mr neal was a jovial kentuckian, and he received us with the greatest hospitality, only asking in return all the news we could give him from the states. it is difficult to imagine, without having witnessed it, the feverish eagerness and curiosity with which all intelligence from their native country is sought after and listened to by these dwellers in the desert. men, women, and children, crowded round us; and though we had arrived in the afternoon, it was near sunrise before we could escape from the enquiries by which we were overwhelmed, and retire to the beds that had been prepared for us. i had not slept very long when i was roused by our worthy host. he was going out to catch twenty or thirty oxen, which were wanted for the market at new orleans. as the kind of chase which takes place after these animals is very interesting, and rarely dangerous, we willingly accepted the invitation to accompany him, and having dressed and breakfasted in all haste, got upon our mustangs and rode of into the prairie. the party was half a dozen strong, consisting of mr neal, my friend and myself, and three negroes. what we had to do was to drive the cattle, which were grazing on the prairie in herds of from thirty to fifty head, to the house, and then those which were selected for the market were to be taken with the lasso and sent off to brazoria. after riding four or five miles, we came in sight of a drove, splendid animals, standing very high, and of most symmetrical form. the horns of these cattle are of unusual length, and, in the distance, have more the appearance of stag's antlers than bull's horns. we approached the herd first to within a quarter of a mile. they remained quite quiet. we rode round them, and in like manner got in rear of a second and third drove, and then began to spread out, so as to form a half circle, and drive the cattle towards the house. hitherto my mustang had behaved exceedingly well, cantering freely along and not attempting to play any tricks. i had scarcely, however, left the remainder of the party a couple of hundred yards, when the devil by which he was possessed began to wake up. the mustangs belonging to the plantation were grazing some three quarters of a mile off; and no sooner did my beast catch sight of them, than he commenced practising every species of jump and leap that it is possible for a horse to execute, and many of a nature so extraordinary, that i should have thought no brute that ever went on four legs would have been able to accomplish them. he shied, reared, pranced, leaped forwards, backwards, and sideways; in short, played such infernal pranks, that, although a practised rider, i found it no easy matter to keep my seat. i began heartily to regret that i had brought no lasso with me, which would have tamed him at once, and that, contrary to mr neal's advice, i had put on my american bit instead of a mexican one. without these auxiliaries all my horsemanship was useless. the brute galloped like a mad creature some five hundred yards, caring nothing for my efforts to stop him; and then, finding himself close to the troop of mustangs, he stopped suddenly short, threw his head between his fore legs, and his hind feet into the air, with such vicious violence, that i was pitched clean out of the saddle. before i well knew where i was, i had the satisfaction of seeing him put his fore feet on the bridle, pull bit and bridoon out of his mouth, and then, with a neigh of exultation, spring into the midst of the herd of mustangs. i got up out of the long grass in a towering passion. one of the negroes who was nearest to me came galloping to my assistance, and begged me to let the beast run for a while, and that when anthony, the huntsman, came, he would soon catch him. i was too angry to listen to reason, and i ordered him to get off his horse, and let me mount. the black begged and prayed of me not to ride after the brute; and mr neal, who was some distance off, shouted to me, as loud as he could, for heaven's sake, to stop--that i did not know what it was to chase a wild horse in a texian prairie, and that i must not fancy myself in the meadows of louisiana or florida. i paid no attention to all this--i was in too great a rage at the trick the beast had played me, and, jumping on the negro's horse, i galloped away like mad. my rebellious steed was grazing quietly with his companions, and he allowed me to come within a couple of hundred paces of him; but just as i had prepared the lasso, which was fastened to the negro's saddle-bow, he gave a start, and galloped off some distance further, i after him. again he made a pause, and munched a mouthful of grass--then off again for another half mile. this time i had great hopes of catching him, for he let me come within a hundred yards; but, just as i was creeping up to him, away he went with one of his shrill neighs. when i galloped fast he went faster, when i rode slowly he slackened pace. at least ten times did he let me approach him within a couple of hundred yards, without for that being a bit nearer getting hold of him. it was certainly high time to desist from such a mad chase, but i never dreamed of doing so; and indeed the longer it lasted, the more obstinate i got. i rode on after the beast, who kept letting me come nearer and nearer, and then darted off again with his loud-laughing neigh. it was this infernal neigh that made me so savage--there was something so spiteful and triumphant in it, as though the animal knew he was making a fool of me, and exulted in so doing. at last, however, i got so sick of my horse-hunt that i determined to make a last trial, and, if that failed, to turn back. the runaway had stopped near one of the islands of trees, and was grazing quite close to its edge. i thought that if i were to creep round to the other side of the island, and then steal across it, through the trees, i should be able to throw the lasso over his head, or, at any rate, to drive him back to the house. this plan i put in execution--rode round the island, then through it, lasso in hand, and as softly as if i had been riding over eggs. to my consternation, however, on arriving at the edge of the trees, and at the exact spot where, only a few minutes before, i had seen the mustang grazing, no signs of him were to be perceived. i made the circuit of the island, but in vain--the animal had disappeared. with a hearty curse, i put spurs to my horse, and started off to ride back to the plantation. neither the plantation, the cattle, nor my companions, were visible, it is true; but this gave me no uneasiness. i felt sure that i knew the direction in which i had come, and that the island i had just left was one which was visible from the house, while all around me were such numerous tracks of horses, that the possibility of my having lost my way never occurred to me, and i rode on quite unconcernedly. after riding for about an hour, however, i began to find the time rather long. i looked at my watch. it was past one o'clock. we had started at nine, and, allowing an hour and a half to have been spent in finding the cattle, i had passed nearly three hours in my wild and unsuccessful hunt. i began to think that i must have got further from the plantation than i had as yet supposed. it was towards the end of march, the day clear and warm, just like a may-day in the southern states. the sun was now shining brightly out, but the early part of the morning had been somewhat foggy; and, as i had only arrived at the plantation the day before, and had passed the whole afternoon and evening indoors, i had no opportunity of getting acquainted with the bearings of the house. this reflection began to make me rather uneasy, particularly when i remembered the entreaties of the negro, and the loud exhortations mr neal addressed to me as i rode away. i said to myself, however, that i could not be more than ten or fifteen miles from the plantation, that i should soon come in sight of the herds of cattle, and that then there would be no difficulty in finding my way. but when i had ridden another hour without seeing the smallest sign either of man or beast, i got seriously uneasy. in my impatience, i abused poor neal for not sending somebody to find me. his huntsman, i had heard, was gone to anahuac, and would not be back for two or three days; but he might have sent a couple of his lazy negroes. or, if he had only fired a shot or two as a signal. i stopped and listened, in hopes of hearing the crack of a rifle. but the deepest stillness reigned around, scarcely the chirp of a bird was heard--all nature seemed to be taking the siesta. as far as the eye could reach was a waving sea of grass, here and there an island of trees, but not a trace of a human being. at last i thought i had made a discovery. the nearest clump of trees was undoubtedly the same which i had admired and pointed out to my companions soon after we had left the house. it bore a fantastical resemblance to a snake coiled up and about to dart upon its prey. about six or seven miles from the plantation we had passed it on our right hand, and if i now kept it upon my left, i could not fail to be going in a proper direction. so said, so done. i trotted on most perseveringly towards the point of the horizon where i felt certain the house must lie. one hour passed, then a second, then a third; every now and then i stopped and listened, but nothing was audible, not a shot nor a shout. but although i heard nothing, i saw something which gave me no great pleasure. in the direction in which we had ridden out, the grass was very abundant and the flowers scarce; whereas the part of the prairie in which i now found myself presented the appearance of a perfect flower-garden, with scarcely a square foot of green to be seen. the most variegated carpet of flowers i ever beheld lay unrolled before me; red, yellow, violet, blue, every colour, every tint was there; millions of the most magnificent prairie roses, tuberoses, asters, dahlias, and fifty other kinds of flowers. the finest artificial garden in the world would sink into insignificance when compared with this parterre of nature's own planting. my horse could hardly make his way through the wilderness of flowers, and i for a time remained lost in admiration of this scene of extraordinary beauty. the prairie in the distance looked as if clothed with rainbows that waved to and fro over its surface. but the difficulties and anxieties of my situation soon banished all other thoughts, and i rode on with perfect indifference through a scene, that, under other circumstances, would have captivated my entire attention. all the stories that i had heard of mishaps in these endless prairies, recurred in vivid colouring to my memory, not mere backwoodsman's legends, but facts well authenticated by persons of undoubted veracity, who had warned me, before i came to texas, against venturing without guide or compass into these dangerous wilds. even men who had been long in the country, were often known to lose themselves, and to wander for days and weeks over these oceans of grass, where no hill or variety of surface offers a landmark to the traveller. in summer and autumn, such a position would have one danger the less, that is, there would be no risk of dying of hunger; for at those seasons the most delicious fruits, grapes, plums, peaches, and others, are to be found in abundance. but we were now in early spring, and although i saw numbers of peach and plum-trees, they were only in blossom. of game also there was plenty, both fur and feather, but i had no gun, and nothing appeared more probable than that i should die of hunger, although surrounded by food, and in one of the most fruitful countries in the world. this thought flashed suddenly across me, and for a moment my heart sunk within me as i first perceived the real danger of my position. after a time, however, other ideas came to console me. i had been already four weeks in the country, and had ridden over a large slice of it in every direction, always through prairies, and i had never had any difficulty in finding my way. true, but then i had always had a compass, and been in company. it was this sort of over-confidence and feeling of security, that had made me adventure so rashly, and spite of all warning, in pursuit of the mustang. i had not waited to reflect, that a little more than four weeks' experience was necessary to make one acquainted with the bearings of a district three times as big as new york state. still i thought it impossible that i should have got so far out of the right track as not to be able to find the house before nightfall, which was now, however, rapidly approaching. indeed, the first shades of evening, strange as it may seem, gave this persuasion increased strength. home bred and gently nurtured as i was, my life before coming to texas had been by no means one of adventure, and i was so used to sleep with a roof over my head, that when i saw it getting dusk i felt certain i could not be far from the house. the idea fixed itself so strongly in my mind, that i involuntarily spurred my mustang, and trotted on, peering out through the now fast-gathering gloom, in expectation of seeing a light. several times i fancied i heard the barking of the dogs, the cattle lowing, or the merry laugh of the children. "hurrah! there is the house at last--i see the lights in the parlour windows." i urged my horse on, but when i came near the house, it proved to be an island of trees. what i had taken for candles were fire-flies, that now issued in swarms from out of the darkness of the islands, and spread themselves over the prairie, darting about in every direction, their small blue flames literally lighting up the plain, and making it appear as if i were surrounded by a sea of bengal fire. it is impossible to conceive anything more bewildering than such a ride as mine, on a warm march night, through the interminable, never varying prairie. overhead the deep blue firmament, with its hosts of bright stars; at my feet, and all around, an ocean of magical light, myriads of fire-flies floating upon the soft still air. to me it was like a scene of enchantment. i could distinguish every blade of grass, every flower, each leaf on the trees, but all in a strange unnatural sort of light, and in altered colours. tuberoses and asters, prairie roses and geraniums, dahlias and vine branches, began to wave and move, to range themselves in ranks and rows. the whole vegetable world around me seemed to dance, as the swarms of living lights passed over it. suddenly out of the sea of fire sounded a loud and long-drawn note. i stopped, listened, and gazed around me. it was not repeated, and i rode on. again the same sound, but this time the cadence was sad and plaintive. again i made a halt, and listened. it was repeated a third time in a yet more melancholy tone, and i recognised it as the cry of a whip-poor-will. presently it was answered from a neighbouring island by a katydid. my heart leaped for joy at hearing the note of this bird, the native minstrel of my own dear maryland. in an instant the house where i was born stood before the eyesight of my imagination. there were the negro huts, the garden, the plantation, every thing exactly as i had left it. so powerful was the illusion, that i gave my horse the spur, persuaded that my father's house lay before me. the island, too, i took for the grove that surrounded our house. on reaching its border, i literally dismounted, and shouted out for charon tommy. there was a stream running through our plantation, which, for nine months out of the twelve, was only passable by means of a ferry, and the old negro who officiated as ferryman was indebted to me for the above classical cognomen. i believe i called twice, nay, three times, but no charon tommy answered; and i awoke as from a pleasant dream, somewhat ashamed of the length to which my excited imagination had hurried me. i now felt so weary and exhausted, so hungry and thirsty, and, withal, my mind was so anxious and harassed by my dangerous position, and the uncertainty how i should get out of it, that i was really incapable of going any further. i felt quite bewildered, and stood for some time gazing before me, and scarcely even troubling myself to think. at length i mechanically drew my clasp-knife from my pocket, and set to work to dig a hole in the rich black soil of the prairie. into this hole i put the knotted end of my lasso, and then pushing it in the earth and stamping it down with my foot, as i had seen others do since i had been in texas, i passed the noose over my mustang's neck, and left him to graze, while i myself lay down outside the circle which the lasso would allow him to describe. an odd manner, it may seem, of tying up a horse; but the most convenient and natural one in a country where one may often find one's-self fifty miles from any house, and five-and-twenty from a tree or bush. i found it no easy matter to sleep, for on all sides i heard the howling of wolves and jaguars, an unpleasant serenade at any time, but most of all so in the prairie, unarmed and defenceless as i was. my nerves, too, were all in commotion, and i felt so feverish, that i do not know what i should have done, had i not fortunately remembered that i had my cigar-case and a roll of tobacco, real virginia _dulcissimus_, in my pocket--invaluable treasures in my present situation, and which on this, as on many other occasions, did not fail to soothe and calm my agitated thoughts. luckily, too, being a tolerably confirmed smoker, i carried a flint and steel with me; for otherwise, although surrounded by lights, i should have been sadly at a loss for fire. a couple of havannahs did me an infinite deal of good, and after a while i sunk into the slumber of which i stood so much in need. the day was hardly well broken when i awoke. the refreshing sleep i had enjoyed had given me new energy and courage. i felt hungry enough, to be sure, but light and cheerful, and i hastened to dig up the end of the lasso, and saddled my horse. i trusted that, though i had been condemned to wander over the prairie the whole of the preceding day, as a sort of punishment for my rashness, i should now have better luck, and having expiated my fault, be at length allowed to find my way. with this hope i mounted my mustang, and resumed my ride. i passed several beautiful islands of pecan, plum, and peach trees. it is a peculiarity worthy of remark, that these islands are nearly always of one sort of tree. it is very rare to meet with one where there are two sorts. like the beasts of the forest, that herd together according to their kind, so does this wild vegetation preserve itself distinct in its different species. one island will be entirely composed of live oaks, another of plum, and a third of pecan trees; the vine only is common to them all, and embraces them all alike with its slender but tenacious branches. i rode through several of these islands. they were perfectly free from bushes and brushwood, and carpeted with the most beautiful verdure it is possible to behold. i gazed at them in astonishment. it seemed incredible that nature, abandoned to herself, should preserve herself so beautifully clean and pure, and i involuntarily looked around me for some trace of the hand of man. but none was there. i saw nothing but herds of deer, that gazed wonderingly at me with their large clear eyes, and when i approached too near, galloped off in alarm. what would i not have given for an ounce of lead, a charge of powder, and a kentucky rifle? nevertheless, the mere sight of the beasts gladdened me, and raised my spirits. they were a sort of society. something of the same feeling seemed to be imparted to my horse, who bounded under me, and neighed merrily as he cantered along in the fresh spring morning. i was now skirting the side of an island of trees of greater extent than most of those i had hitherto seen. on reaching the end of it, i suddenly came in sight of an object presenting so extraordinary an appearance as far to surpass any of the natural wonders i had as yet beheld, either in texas or the united states. at the distance of about two miles rose a colossal mass, in shape somewhat like a monumental mound or tumulus, and apparently of the brightest silver. as i came in view of it, the sun was just covered by a passing cloud, from the lower edge of which the bright rays shot down obliquely upon this extraordinary phenomenon, lighting it up in the most brilliant manner. at one moment it looked like a huge silver cone; then took the appearance of an illuminated castle with pinnacles and towers, or the dome of some great cathedral; then of a gigantic elephant, covered with trappings, but always of solid silver, and indescribably magnificent. had all the treasures of the earth been offered me to say what it was, i should have been unable to answer. bewildered by my interminable wanderings in the prairie, and weakened by fatigue and hunger, a superstitious feeling for a moment came over me, and i half asked myself whether i had not reached some enchanted region, into which the evil spirit of the prairie was luring me to destruction by appearances of supernatural strangeness and beauty. banishing these wild imaginings, i rode on in the direction of this strange object; but it was only when i came within a very short distance that i was able to distinguish its nature. it was a live oak of most stupendous dimensions, the very patriarch of the prairie, grown grey in the lapse of ages. its lower limbs had shot out in an horizontal, or rather a downward-slanting direction; and, reaching nearly to the ground, formed a vast dome several hundred feet in diameter, and full a hundred and thirty feet high. it had no appearance of a tree, for neither trunk nor branches were visible. it seemed a mountain of whitish-green scales, fringed with long silvery moss, that hung like innumerable beards from every bough and twig. nothing could better convey the idea of immense and incalculable age than the hoary beard and venerable appearance of this monarch of the woods. spanish moss of a silvery grey covered the whole mass of wood and foliage, from the topmost bough down to the very ground; short near the top of the tree, but gradually increasing in length as it descended, until it hung like a deep fringe from the lower branches. i separated the vegetable curtain with my hands, and entered this august temple with feelings of involuntary awe. the change from the bright sunlight to the comparative darkness beneath the leafy vault, was so great, that i at first could scarcely distinguish any thing. when my eyes got accustomed to the gloom, however, nothing could be more beautiful than the effect of the sun's rays, which, in forcing their way through the silvered leaves and mosses, took as many varieties of colour as if they had passed through a window of painted glass, and gave the rich, subdued, and solemn light of some old cathedral. the trunk of the tree rose, free from all branches, full forty feet from the ground, rough and knotted, and of such enormous size that it might have been taken for a mass of rock, covered with moss and lichens, while many of its boughs were nearly as thick as the trunk of any tree i had ever previously seen. i was so absorbed in the contemplation of the vegetable giant, that for a short space i almost forgot my troubles; but as i rode away from the tree they returned to me in full force, and my reflections were certainly of no very cheering or consolatory nature. i rode on, however, most perseveringly. the morning slipped away; it was noon, the sun stood high in the cloudless heavens. my hunger had now increased to an insupportable degree, and i felt as if something were gnawing within me, something like a crab tugging and riving at my stomach with his sharp claws. this feeling left me after a time, and was replaced by a sort of squeamishness, a faint sickly sensation. but if hunger was bad, thirst was worse. for some hours i suffered martyrdom. at length, like the hunger, it died away, and was succeeded by a feeling of sickness. the thirty hours' fatigue and fasting i had endured were beginning to tell upon my naturally strong nerves: i felt my reasoning powers growing weaker, and my presence of mind leaving me. a feeling of despondency came over me--a thousand wild fancies passed through my bewildered brain; while at times my head grew dizzy, and i reeled in my saddle like a drunken man. these weak fits, as i may call them, did not last long; and each time that i recovered i spurred my mustang onwards, but it was all in vain--ride as far and as fast as i would, nothing was visible but a boundless sea of grass. at length i gave up all hope, except in that god whose almighty hand was so manifest in the beauteous works around me. i let the bridle fall on my horse's neck, clasped my hands together, and prayed as i had never before prayed, so heartily and earnestly. when i had finished my prayer i felt greatly comforted. it seemed to me, that here in the wilderness, which man had not as yet polluted, i was nearer to god, and that my petition would assuredly be heard. i gazed cheerfully around, persuaded that i should yet escape from the peril in which i stood. as i did so, with what astonishment and inexpressible delight did i perceive, not ten paces off, the track of a horse! the effect of this discovery was like an electric shock to me, and drew a cry of joy from my lips that made my mustang start and prick his ears. tears of delight and gratitude to heaven came into my eyes, and i could scarcely refrain from leaping off my horse and kissing the welcome signs that gave me assurance of succour. with renewed strength i galloped onwards; and had i been a lover flying to rescue his mistress from an indian war party, i could not have displayed more eagerness than i did in following up the trail of an unknown traveller. never had i felt so thankful to providence as at that moment. i uttered thanksgivings as i rode on, and contemplated the wonderful evidences of his skill and might that offered themselves to me on all sides. the aspect of every thing seemed changed, and i gazed with renewed admiration at the scenes through which i passed, and which i had previously been too preoccupied by the danger of my position to notice. the beautiful appearance of the islands struck me particularly as they lay in the distance, seeming to swim in the bright golden beams of the noonday sun, like dark spots of foliage in the midst of the waving grasses and many-hued flowers of the prairie. before me lay the eternal flower-carpet with its innumerable asters, tuberoses, and mimosas, that delicate plant which, when you approach it, lifts its head, seems to look at you, and then droops and shrinks back in alarm. this i saw it do when i was two or three paces from it, and without my horse's foot having touched it. its long roots stretch out horizontally in the ground, and the approaching tread of a horse or man is communicated through them to the plant, and produces this singular phenomenon. when the danger is gone by, and the earth ceases to vibrate, the mimosa may be seen to raise its head again, but quivering and trembling, as though not yet fully recovered from its fears. i had ridden on for three or four hours, following the track i had so fortunately discovered, when i came upon the trace of a second horseman, who appeared to have here joined the first traveller. it ran in a parallel direction to the one i was following. had it been possible to increase my joy, this discovery would have done so. i could now entertain no doubt that i had hit upon the way out of this terrible prairie. it struck me as being rather singular that two travellers should have met in this immense plain, which so few persons traversed; but that they had done so was certain, for there was the track of the two horses as plain as possible. the trail was fresh, too, and it was evidently not long since the horsemen had passed. it might still be possible to overtake them, and in this hope i rode on faster than ever, as fast, at least, as my mustang could carry me through the thick grass and flowers, which in many places were four or five feet high. during the next three hours i passed over some ten or twelve miles of ground, but although the trail still lay plainly and broadly marked before me, i say nothing of those who had left it. still i persevered. i must overtake them sooner or later, provided i did not lose the track; and that i was most careful not to do, keeping my eyes fixed upon the ground as i rode along, and never deviating from the line which the travellers had followed. in this manner the day passed away, and evening approached. i still felt hope and courage; but my physical strength began to give way. the gnawing sensation of hunger increased. i was sick and faint; my limbs became heavy, my blood seemed chilled in my veins, and all my senses appeared to grow duller under the influence of exhaustion, thirst, and hunger. my eyesight became misty, my hearing less acute, the bridle felt cold and heavy in my fingers. still i rode on. sooner or later i must find an outlet; the prairie must have an end somewhere. it is true the whole of southern texas is one vast prairie; but then there are rivers flowing through it, and if i could reach one of those, i should not be far from the abodes of men. by following the streams five or six miles up or down, i should be sure to find a plantation. as i was thus reasoning with, and encouraging myself, i suddenly perceived the traces of a third horse, running parallel to the two which i had been so long following. this was indeed encouragement. it was certain that three travellers, arriving from different points of the prairie, and all going in the same direction, must have some object, must be repairing to some village or clearing, and where or what this was had now become indifferent to me, so long as i once more found myself amongst my fellow-men. i spurred on my mustang, who was beginning to flag a little in his pace with the fatigue of our long ride. the sun set behind the high trees of an island that bounded my view westward, and there being little or no twilight in those southerly latitudes, the broad day was almost instantaneously replaced by the darkness of night. i could proceed no further without losing the track of the three horsemen; and as i happened to be close to an island, i fastened my mustang to a branch with the lasso, and threw myself on the grass under the trees. this night, however, i had no fancy for tobacco. neither the cigars nor the _dulcissimus_ tempted me. i tried to sleep, but in vain. once or twice i began to doze, but was roused again by violent cramps and twitchings in all my limbs. there is nothing more horrible than a night passed in the way i passed that one, faint and weak, enduring torture from hunger and thirst, striving after sleep and never finding it. i can only compare the sensation of hunger i experienced to that of twenty pairs of pincers tearing at my stomach. with the first grey light of morning i got up and prepared for departure. it was a long business, however, to get my horse ready. the saddle, which at other times i could throw upon his back with two fingers, now seemed made of lead, and it was as much as i could do to lift it. i had still more difficulty to draw the girths tight; but at last i accomplished this, and scrambling upon my beast, rode off. luckily my mustang's spirit was pretty well taken out of him by the last two days' work; for if he had been fresh, the smallest spring on one side would have sufficed to throw me out of the saddle. as it was, i sat upon him like an automaton, hanging forward over his neck, some times grasping the mane, and almost unable to use either rein or spur. i had ridden on for some hours in this helpless manner, when i came to a place where the three horsemen whose track i was following had apparently made a halt, perhaps passed the previous night. the grass was trampled and beaten down in a circumference of some fifty or sixty feet, and there was a confusion in the horse tracks as if they had ridden backwards and forwards. fearful of losing the right trace, i was looking carefully about me to see in what direction they had recommenced their journey, when i noticed something white amongst the long grass. i got off my horse to pick it up. it was a piece of paper with my own name written upon it; and i recognized it as the back of a letter in which my tobacco had been wrapped, and which i had thrown away at my halting-place of the preceding night. i looked around, and recognized the island and the very tree under which i had slept or endeavoured to sleep. the horrible truth instantly flashed across me--the horse tracks i had been following were my own: since the preceding morning i had been riding in _a circle_! i stood for a few seconds thunderstruck by this discovery, and then sank upon the ground in utter despair. at that moment i should have been thankful to any one who would have knocked me on the head as i lay. all i wished for was to die as speedily as possible. i remained i know not how long lying in a desponding, half insensible, state upon the grass. several hours must have elapsed; for when i got up, the sun was low in the western heavens. my head was so weak and wandering, that i could not well explain to myself how it was that i had been thus riding after my own shadow. yet the thing was clear enough. without landmarks, and in the monotonous scenery of the prairie, i might have gone on for ever following my horses track, and going back when i thought i was going forwards, had it not been for the discovery of the tobacco paper. i was, as i subsequently learned, in the jacinto prairie, one of the most beautiful in texas, full sixty miles long and broad, but in which the most experienced hunters never risked themselves without a compass. it was little wonder then that i, a mere boy of two and twenty, just escaped from college, should have gone astray in it. i now gave myself up for lost, and with the bridle twisted round my hand, and holding on as well as i could by the saddle and mane, i let my horse choose his own road. it would perhaps have been better if i had done this sooner. the beast's instinct would probably have led him to some plantation. when he found himself left to his own guidance he threw up his head, snuffed the air three or four times, and then turning round, set off in a contrary direction to that he was before going, and at such a brisk pace that it was as much as i could do to keep upon him. every jolt caused me so much pain that i was more than once tempted to let myself fall off his back. at last night came, and thanks to the lasso, which kept my horse in awe, i managed to dismount and secure him. the whole night through i suffered from racking pains in head, limbs, and body. i felt as if i had been broken on the wheel; not an inch of my whole person but ached and smarted. my hands were grown thin and transparent, my cheeks fallen in, my eyes deep sunk in their sockets. when i touched my face i could feel the change that had taken place, and as i did so i caught myself once or twice laughing like a child--i was becoming delirious. in the morning i could scarcely rise from the ground, so utterly weakened and exhausted was i by my three days' fasting, anxiety, and fatigue. i have heard say that a man in good health can live nine days without food. it may be so in a room, or a prison; but assuredly not in a texian prairie. i am quite certain that the fifth day would have seen the last of me. i should never have been able to mount my mustang, but he had fortunately lain down, so i got into the saddle, and he rose up with me and started off of his own accord. as i rode along, the strangest visions seemed to pass before me. i saw the most beautiful cities that a painter's fancy ever conceived, with towers, cupolas, and columns, of which the summits lost themselves in the clouds; marble basins and fountains of bright sparkling water, rivers flowing with liquid gold and silver, and gardens in which the trees were bowed down with the most magnificent fruit--fruit that i had not strength enough to raise my hand and pluck. my limbs were heavy as lead, my tongue, lips, and gums, dry and parched. i breathed with the greatest difficulty, and within me was a burning sensation, as if i had swallowed hot coals; while my extremities, both hands and feet, did not appear to form a part of myself, but to be instruments of torture affixed to me, and causing me the most intense suffering. i have a confused recollection of a sort of rushing noise, the nature of which i was unable to determine, so nearly had all consciousness left me; then of finding myself amongst trees, the leaves and boughs of which scratched and beat against my face as i passed through them; then of a sudden and rapid descent, with the broad bright surface of a river below me. i clutched at a branch, but my fingers had no strength to retain their grasp--there was a hissing, splashing noise, and the waters closed over my head. i soon rose, and endeavoured to strike out with my arms and legs, but in vain; i was too weak to swim and again i went down. a thousand lights seemed to dance before my eyes: there was a noise in my brain as if a four-and-twenty pounder had been fired close to my ear. just then a hard hand was wrung into my neck-cloth, and i felt myself dragged out of the water. the next instant my senses left me. * * * * * travels of kerim khan. no. ii. we left our friend the khan, at length comfortably established in london, and pursuing his observations on the various novel objects of interest which every where presented themselves to his gaze. the streets lighted by gas (which the persian princes call "the spirit of coals") are described in terms of the highest admiration--"on each side, as far as the eye could see, were two interminable lines of extremely brilliant light, produced by a peculiar kind of vapour here called gas, which made the city infinitely more interesting to look at by night than by day; but the most extraordinary thing in reference to the flame in the lamps was, that this appeared to be produced without the medium of either oil or wick, nor could i discern the cause of the lighting. the houses have from three to seven stages or stories, one of which is underground--each stage containing at least two rooms. the walls fronting the streets are of brick or stone, and the interior of woodwork; but the wood of the rooms inside is covered with a peculiar sort of paper of various colours and curious devices, highly elaborate and ingenious. the balconies outside were generally filled with flowers of various hues: but notwithstanding the wonders which surrounded me, and made me fancy myself in a world of talismanic creation, my spirits were for some time depressed, and this immense city seemed to me worse than the tomb; for i had not yet recovered from the bewilderment into which all that i had seen had thrown me." the feeling of loneliness, resulting from this oppressive sense of novelty, wore off, however, as the khan began to find out his friends, and accustom himself to the fashions of the country; and he was one day agreeably surprised by a visit from one of the suite of moulavi afzul ali, an envoy to the court of directors from the rajah of sattarah;[ ] "i need not say how delighted i felt, not having the least idea of meeting any of my countrymen so far from hindustan." the th of august, the day fixed for the prorogation of parliament by the queen, now arrived; and the khan "accompanied some gentlemen in a carriage to see the procession, but it was with extreme difficulty that we got a place where we could see her majesty pass; at last, however, through the kindness of a mounted officer, we succeeded. first came the shahzadehs, or princes of the blood, in carriages drawn by six horses, and then the wazirs (viziers) and nobles, and the ambassadors from foreign states, in vehicles, some with six, and some with four horses. when all these had passed, there came the queen herself in a golden carriage, drawn by eight magnificent steeds; on her right was prince arleta, and opposite her was lord melbourne, the grand wazir, (prime minister.) the carriage was preceded by men who, i was surprised to observe, were dressed in the hindustani fashion, in red and gold, with broad sleeves.[ ] but those nearest her majesty, strange to say, wore almost exactly the costume of hindustan, and to these my eyes were immediately directed; and i felt so delighted to see my own countrymen advanced to the honour of forming the body-guard of the sovereign, that i could scarcely believe the evidence of my senses, when i perceived on closer inspection, by their complexions, that they were english. still i could not (nor can i even now) understand the reason of their adopting the hindustani dress--though i was told on enquiry, that it was the ancient costume of the guard called _yeomen_." ... "as the queen approached the people took off their hats, nor was i less astonished[ ] when i heard them begin to shout _hurra! hurra_! as she passed; which in their language seems to imply approbation. when her majesty turned towards our carriage, i immediately made a _salaam_ after the manner of my own country, which she graciously acknowledged, seeing, no doubt, that i was a native of a strange land!" [ ] this must have been one of the _vakeels_ or envoys, whose departure from bombay, in march , is mentioned in the _asiatic journal_, (xxix. ;) the party is there said, on the authority of the _durpun_, (a native newspaper,) to have consisted of eleven, mahrattas and purbhoos, no mention being made of moulavi afzul ali. we have been unable to trace the further proceedings of the deputation in this country; but they probably found on their arrival, that the fate of their master was already decided, as he was dethroned by the company, in favour of his cousin appa sahib, in september of the same year, on the charge of having participated in a conspiracy against the english power. the justice, as well as policy of this measure, was, however, strongly canvassed, and gave rise to repeated and violent debates in the court of proprietors. [ ] the native servants of the governor-general at calcutta, on state occasions, wear splendid scarlet and gold caftans.--_see_ bishop heber's journal. [ ] the khan nowhere exactly explains the surprise which he expresses, here and at other times, at the shouts of _hurra_!--perhaps his ear was wounded by the resemblance of the sound to certain hindustani epithets, by no means refined or complimentary. this fancied metamorphosis of the sturdy beef-eaters with their partisans, whose costume has never been altered since the days of henry vii., into hindustani _peons_ and _chuprassees_, seems to show that the enthusiasm of the khan must have been considerably excited--and after this cruel disappointment he dismisses the remainder of the procession in a few words. to a native of india, indeed, accustomed to see every petty rajah or nawab holding a few square miles of territory as the tenant of the company, surrounded on state occasions by a crowd of the picturesque irregular cavalry of the east, and with a _suwarree_ or cavalcade of led horses, gayly caparisoned elephants, flaunting banners, and martial music, the amount of military display in attendance on the queen of great britain must naturally have appeared inconsiderable--"the escort consisted of only some two hundred horsemen, but these were cased in steel and leather from head to foot, and their black horses were by far the finest i have yet seen in this country. but though the multitudes of people were immense, yet the procession tell much short of what i had expected from the monarch of so great and powerful a nation! i returned home, however, much gratified by the sights i had seen to-day." the sight of this ceremony naturally leads to a digression on the origin and constitution of the english parliament, and its division into the two houses of lords and commons. the events leading to these institutions, and the antecedent civil wars between the king and the barons, in the reign of henry iii. and edward i., are given by the khan, on the whole, with great accuracy--probably from the information of his english friends since the knowledge of the ancient history and institutions of the country, which he displays both here and in other parts of his narrative, can scarcely have been acquired through the medium of a native education in hindustan. the deductions which he draws, however, from this historical summary, are somewhat curious; since he assumes that the power of the crown, though limited in appearance by the concessions then made, and the legislative functions vested in parliament, was in truth only strengthened, and rendered more securely despotic:--"but this is entirely lost sight of by the people, who, even at the present day, imagine that the parliament is all-powerful, and the sovereign powerless. but i must be allowed to say, that those ancient monarchs acted wisely, and the result of their policy has not been sufficiently perceived.... for when parliament was constituted, the power of retaining armed vassals and servants, which the barons had enjoyed for so long a period, was abolished, and has never been resumed even by princes of the blood; so that they could no longer resist the authority of the king, who alone had the privilege of raising and maintaining troops--a right never conceded to parliament. besides this the powers of life and death, and of declaring war, were identified with the person of the sovereign; and with respect to the latter, it is never, until it has been decided upon, even intimated to the parliament, which possesses _only_ the power of collecting the taxes, from which the expenses of the war the king may enter into must be paid. the possession, therefore, of these two rights by the king, is equivalent to the tenure of absolute power." the possibility of the supplies being refused by a refractory house of commons, seems either not to have occurred to the khan, or to have escaped his recollection at the moment of his penning this sentence; and though he subsequently alludes to the responsibility of ministers, he never seems to have comprehended the nature and extent of the control exercised by parliament over the finances of the nation, so fully as the persian princes, who tell us, in their quaint phraseology, that "if the expenses that were made should be agreeable to the commons, well and good--if not, the vizirs must stand the consequences; and every person who has given ten _tomâns_ of the revenue, has a right to rise up in the house of commons, and seize the vizir of the treasury by the collar, saying, 'what have you done with my money?'"--a mode of _putting to the question_ which, if now and then practically adopted by some hard-fisted son of the soil, we have no doubt would operate as a most salutary check on the vagaries of chancellors of the exchequer. it is strange that the khan should not, in this case, perceive the fallacy of his own argument, or see that the power of the sword must always virtually rest with the holder of the purse; since immediately afterwards, after enlarging on the enormous amount of taxes levied in england, the oppressive nature of some of them, especially the window-tax, "for the light of heaven is god's gift to mankind," he proceeds--"in other countries it would perhaps cost the king, who imposed such taxes, his head; but here the blame is laid on the house of commons, without any one dreaming of censuring the sovereign, in whose name they are levied, and for whose use they are applied;" citing as a proof of this the ease with which the insurrection of wat tyler and his followers, against the capitation tax, was suppressed by the promise of the king to redress their grievances. the subject of english taxation, indeed, both from the amount levied, and the acquiescence of the people in such unheard-of burdens, seems to have utterly bewildered the khan's comprehension.[ ] "all classes, from the noble to the peasant, are alike oppressed; yet it is amusing to hear them expatiate on the institutions of their country, fancying it the freest and themselves the least oppressed of any people on earth! they are constantly talking of the tyranny and despotism of oriental governments, without having set foot in any of those regions, or knowing any thing about the matter, except what they have gleaned from the imperfect accounts of superficial travellers--deploring the state of turkey, persia, and other mahommedan countries, and calling their inhabitants slaves, when, if the truth were known, there is not a single kingdom of islam, the people of which would submit to what the english suffer, or pay one-tenth of the taxes exacted from them." [ ] the views of mirza abu-talib on this important subject, are far more enlightened and correct than those of kerim khan. "the public revenue of england," he observes, "is not, as in india, raised merely from the land, or by duties levied on a few kinds of merchandise, but almost every article of consumption pays its portion. the taxes are levied by the authority and decree of parliament; and are in general so framed _as to bear lightly on the poor_, and that _every person should pay in proportion to his income_. thus bread, meat, and coals, being articles of indispensable use, are exempt; but spirits, wines, &c., are taxed very high; and the rich are obliged to pay for every horse, dog, and man-servant they keep; also for the privilege of throwing _flour_ on their heads, and having their _arms_ (insignia of the antiquity and rank of their family) painted on their carriages, &c. since the commencement of the present war, a new law has been passed, compelling every person to pay annually a tenth of his whole income. most of the taxes are permanent, but some of them are changed at the pleasure of parliament. abu-talib visited the country in the first years of the present century, when the capability of taxation was strained to the utmost, but the words which we have given in italics, contain the secret which kerim failed to detect." relieved, it is to be hoped, by this tirade against the ignominious submission of the franks to taxation, the khan resumes the enumeration of the endless catalogue of wonders which the sights of london presented to him. on visiting the polytechnic institution--"which means, i understand, a place in which specimens of every science and art are to be seen in some mode or other, there being no science or art of any other country unknown here"--he briefly enumerates the oxyhydrogen microscope, "by which water was shown so full of little animals, nay, even monsters, as to make one shudder at the thought of swallowing a drop"--the orrery, the daguerreotype, and the diving-bell, (in which he had the courage to descend,) as the objects principally deserving notice, "since it would require several months, if not years, to give that attention to each specimen of human industry which it demands, in order thoroughly to understand it." the effects of the electrical machine, indeed, "by which fire was made to pass through the body of a man, and out of the finger-ends of his right hand, without his being in any way affected by it, though a piece of cloth, placed close to this right hand, was actually ignited," seem to have excited considerable astonishment in his mind; but it does not appear that his curiosity led him to make any attempt in investigating the hidden causes of these mysterious phenomena. his apathy in this respect presents a strong contrast with the minute and elaborate description of the same objects, the mode of their construction, and the uses to which they may be applied, given in the journal of the two parsees, nowrojee and merwanjee. "to us," say they, "brought up in india for scientific pursuits, and longing ardently to acquire practical information connected with modern improvements, more particularly with naval architecture, steam-engines, steam-boats, and steam navigation, these two galleries of practical science (the adelaide and polytechnic) seemed to embrace all that we had come over to england to make ourselves acquainted with; and it was with gratitude to the original projectors of these institutions that we gazed on the soul-exciting scene before us. we thought of the enchantments related in the _arabian nights' entertainments_, and they faded away into nothingness compared with what we then saw." but however widely apart the nonchalance of the moslem, and the matter-of-fact diligence of the parsee,[ ] may have placed them respectively in their appreciation of the scientific marvels of the polytechnic institution, they meet on common ground in their admiration of the wax-work exhibition of madame tussaud; though the khan, who was not sufficiently acquainted with the features of our public characters to judge of the likenesses, expresses his commendation only in general terms. but the parsees, with the naïveté of children, break out into absolute raptures at recognising the features of lord melbourne, "a good-humoured looking, kind english gentleman, with a countenance, perhaps, representing frankness and candour more than dignity"--william iv., "looking the very picture of good-nature"--the duke of wellington, lord brougham, &c.; "indeed, we know of no exhibition (where a person has read about people) that will afford him so much pleasure, always recollecting that it is only _one_ shilling, and for this you may stop just as long as you are inclined." their remarks, on seeing the effigy of voltaire, are too curious to be omitted. "he is an extraordinary-looking man, dressed so oddly too, with little pinched-up features, and his hair so curiously arranged. we looked much at him, thinking he must have had much courage, and have thought himself quite right in his belief, to have stood opposed to all the existing religious systems of his native land. he, however, and those who thought differently from him, have long since in another world experienced, that if men only act up to what they believe to be right, the maker of the deist, the christian, and the parsee, will receive them into his presence; and that it is the _professor of religion_, who is _nothing but a professor_, let his creed be what it may, that will meet with the greatest punishment from him that ruleth all things." but before we quit the subject of this attractive exhibition, we must not omit to mention an adventure of the persian princes, two of whom, having paid a previous visit, persuaded the third brother, on his accompanying them thither, that he was in truth in the royal palace, (whither he had been invited for one of the queen's parties on the same evening.) and in the presence of the court and royal family! the embarrassment of poor najef-kooli at the _morne silence_ preserved, which he interpreted as a sign of displeasure, is amusingly described, till, on touching one of the figures, "he fell down, and i observed that he was dead; and my brothers and fraser sahib laughed loudly, and said, 'these people are not dead but are all of them artificial figures of white wax.' verily, no one would ever have thought that they were manufactured by men!" [ ] "the parsees," says mirza abu-talib, describing those whom he saw at bombay on his return to india, "are not possessed of a spark of liberality or gentility.... the only parsee i was ever acquainted with who had received a liberal education, was moula firoz, whom i met at the house of a friend; he was a sensible and well-informed man, who had travelled into persia, and there studied mathematics, astronomy, and the sciences of zoroaster." if this account be correct, a marvellous improvement must have taken place during the last forty years. many of the parsees of the present day are almost on a level with europeans in education and acquirements; and in their adoption of our manners and customs, they stand alone among the various nations of our oriental subjects--but their exclusive addiction to mercantile pursuits, and their pacific habits, (in both which points they are hardly exceeded by the quakers of europe,) make them objects of contempt to the haughty moslems. a few days after his visit to madame tussaud, we find the khan making an excursion by the railroad to southampton, in order to be present at a banquet given on board the oriental steamer, by the directors of the oriental steam navigation company, from whom he had received a special invitation. with the exception of the brief transit from blackwall to london on his arrival, this was his first trip by rail, but, as his place was in one of the close first-class carriages, he saw nothing of the machinery by which the motion was effected, "though such was the rapidity of the vehicles, that i could distinguish nothing but an expanse of green all round, nor could i perceive even the trunks of the trees. every now and then we were carried through dark caverns, where we could not see each others' faces; and sometimes we met other vehicles coming in the opposite direction, which occasioned me no small alarm, as i certainly thought we should have been dashed to pieces, from the fearful velocity with which both were running. we reached southampton, a distance of seventy-eight miles, in three hours; and what most surprised me was, being seriously told on our arrival, that we had been unusually long on our way. i was told that this iron road, from london to southampton, cost six crores of rupees, (l. , , .)" the town of southampton is only briefly noticed as well built, populous, and flourishing; but he had no time to visit the beautiful scenery of the environs, as the entertainment took place the following afternoon in the cabin of the oriental, "which is a very large vessel, well constructed, and in admirable order, and is intended to carry the _dak_ (mail) to india, which is sent by the way of sikanderîyah, (alexandria.)" our friend the khan, however, must have been always rather out of his element at a feast; unlike his countryman, abu-talib--who speedily became reconciled to the forbidden viands and wines of the franks, and even carried his laxity so far as to express a _hope_, rather than a _belief_, that the brushes which he used were made of horsehair, and not of the bristles of the unclean beast--kerim khan appears (as we have seen on a previous occasion) never to have relaxed the austerity of the religious scruples which the _indian_ moslems have borrowed from the hindus, so far as to partake of food not prepared by his own people; and on the present occasion, in spite of the instances of his hosts, his simple repast consisted wholly of fruit. the cheers which followed on the health of the queen being given, appeared to him, like those which hailed her passage at the prorogation of parliament, a most incomprehensible and somewhat indecorous proceeding; his own health was also drunk as a _lion_, but "not being able to reply from my ignorance of the language, a gentleman of my acquaintance thanked them in my name; while i also stood up and made a _salaam_, as much as to say that i highly appreciated the honour done me." while the festivities were proceeding in the cabin, the steamer was got underway and making the circuit of the isle of wight; and on landing again at southampton, "i was surrounded by a concourse of people, who had collected to look at me, imagining, no doubt, that i was some strange creature, the like of which they had never seen before." whether from want of time or of curiosity, he left portsmouth, and all the wonders of its arsenal and dockyard, unvisited, and after again going on board the oriental the next day, to take leave of the captain and officers, returned in the afternoon by the railway to london. he was next shown over the bank of england, his remarks on which are devoid of interest, and he visited the paddington terminus of the great western railway, in the hope of gaining a more accurate idea of the nature of the locomotive machinery, the astonishing powers of which he had witnessed in his journey to southampton. but mechanics were not the khan's forte; and, dismissing the subject with the remark, that "it is so extremely complicated and difficult that a stranger cannot possibly understand it,"[ ] he returns at once to the haunts of fashion, hyde park and the opera. hitherto the khan had been unaccountably silent on the subject of the "frank moons, brilliant as the sun," (as the english ladies are called by the persian princes, who, from the first, lose no opportunity of commemorating their beauty in the most rapturous strains of oriental hyperbole;) but his enthusiasm is effectually kindled by the blaze of charms which meets his eye in the "bazar of beauty and garden of pleasure," as he terms the park, his account of which he sums up by declaring, that, "were the inhabitants of the celestial regions to descend, they would at one glance forget the wonders of the heavens at the sight of so many bright eyes and beautiful faces! what, therefore, remains for mortals to do?" the opera is, he says, "the principal _tomashagah_" (place of show or entertainment) in london, and best decorated and lighted;" though he does not go the length of affirming, as stated in the account given by the persian princes, that "before each box are forty chandeliers of cut glass, and each has fifty lights!"--"i could not," continues the khan, "understand the subject of the performances--it was all singing, accompanied with various action, as if some story were meant to be related; but i was also told that the language was different from english, and that the majority of those present understood it no more than myself." the scanty drapery and liberal displays of the figurantes at first startled him a little; but "the beauty of those _peris_ was such as might have enslaved the heart of ferhad himself;" and he soon learned to view all their _pirouettes_ and _tours-de-force_ with the well-bred nonchalance of a man who had witnessed in his own country exhibitions nearly as singular in their way "though the style of dancing here was of course entirely different from what we see in india." the impression made by the sight of the ballet on the parsees, who invariably reduce every thing to pounds, shillings, and pence, took a different form; and they express unbounded astonishment, on being told that taglioni was paid a hundred and fifty guineas a-night, "that such a sum should be paid to a woman to stand a long time like a goose on one leg, then to throw one leg straight out, twirl round three or four times with the leg thus extended, curtsy so low as nearly to seat herself on the stage, and spring from one side of the stage to another, all which jumping about did not occupy an hour!" [ ] the persian princes go more into detail; but we doubt whether their description will much facilitate the construction of a railway from ispahan to shiraz. "the roads on which the coaches are placed and fixed, are made of iron bars; all that seems to draw them is a box of iron, in which they put water to boil; underneath, this iron box is like an urn, and from it rises the steam which gives the wonderful force; when the steam rises up, the wheels take their motion, the coach spreads its wings, and the travellers become like birds." astley's (which the persian princes call the "opera of the horse") was the khan's next resort; and as the feats of horsemanship there exhibited did not require any great proficiency in the english language to render them intelligible, he appears to have been highly amused and gratified, and gives a long description of all he saw there, which would not present much of novelty to our readers. he was also taken by some of his acquaintance to see the industrious fleas in the strand; but this exhibition, which accorded unbounded gratification to the grandsons of futteh ali shah, seems to have been looked upon by the khan rather with contempt, as a marvellous piece of absurdity. "would any one believe that such a sight as this could possibly be witnessed any where in the world? but, having personally seen it, i cannot altogether pass it over." but the then unfinished thames tunnel, which he had the advantage of visiting in company with mr brunel, appears to have impressed his mind more than any other public work which he had seen; and his remarks upon it show, that he was at pains to make himself accurately acquainted with the nature and extent of the undertaking, the details of which he gives with great exactness. "but," he concludes, "it is impossible to convey in words an adequate idea of the labour that must have been spent upon this work, the like of which was never before attempted in any country. the emperors of hindustan, who were monarchs of so many extensive provinces, and possessed such unlimited power and countless treasures, desired a bridge to be thrown across the jumna to connect delhi with the city of shahdarah--yet an architect could not be found in all india who could carry this design into execution. yet here a few merchants formed a company, and have executed a work infinitely transcending that of the most elaborate bridge ever built. in the first instance, as i was given to understand, they applied to government for leave to construct a bridge at the same spot, but as it was objected that this would impede the navigation of the river, they formed the design, at the suggestion of the talented engineer above mentioned, of actually making their way across the river underground, and commenced this great work in spite of the general opinion of the improbability of success."[ ] [ ] the parsees, in their account of the tunnel, mention a fact now not generally remembered, that the attempt was far from a new one:--"in , a cornish miner having been selected for the purpose, operations were commenced feet from the thames, on the rotherhithe side. two or three different engineers were engaged, and the affair was nearly abandoned, till in it was quite given up." "some days after this," continues the khan, "i paid a visit to the tower, which is the fortress of london, placed close to the thames on its left bank. within the ramparts is another fort of white stone, which in past times was frequently occupied by the sovereigns of the country. it is said to have been constructed by king william, surnamed _muzuffer_, or the conqueror; others are of opinion that it was founded by keesar the roman emperor; but god alone can solve this doubt. in times past it was also used as a state prison for persons of rank, and was the scene of the execution of most of the princes and nobles whose fate is recorded in the chronicles of england. they still show the block on which the decapitations took place." among the trophies in the armoury, he particularizes the gun and girdle of tippoo sultan, "which seemed to be taken great care of, and were preserved under a glass case;" but the horse armoury and the regalia, usually the most attractive part of the exhibition to strangers, are passed over with but slight notice, though, from the parsees, the sight of the equestrian figures in the former, draws the only allusion which escapes them throughout their narrative to the fallen glories of their race. "the representations of some of these monarchs was in the very armour they wore; and we were here very forcibly put in mind of persia, once our own country, where this iron clothing was anciently used; but, alas! we have no remains of these things; all we know of them is from historical works." the crown jewels might have been supposed to present to a native of india an object of peculiar interest; but the khan remarks only the great ruby, "which is so brilliant that (it is said) one would be able to read by its light by placing it on a book in the dark. i made some enquiries respecting its value, but could not get no satisfactory answer, as they said no jeweller could ascertain it." it would appear that the khan must now have been for several months resident in london, (for he takes no note of the lapse of time,) since we next find him a spectator of the pomps and pageants of lord mayor's day. he gives no account, however, of the procession, but contents himself with informing his readers that the lord mayor (except in his tenure of office being annual instead of for life) is the same as a "patel" or "mukaddam" in the east: adding that "he is the only person in england, except the sovereign, who is allowed to have a train of armed followers in attendance on him." it is not very evident whether the idea of civic army was suggested to the mind of the khan simply by the sight of the men in armour in the procession, or whether dark rumours had reached his ear touching the prowess of the lumber troopers, and other warlike bodies which march under the standard of the lord mayor; but certain it is that this most pacific of potentates cannot fairly be charged with abusing the formidable privilege thus attributed to him--the city sword never having been unsheathed in mortal fray, as far as our researches extend, since wat tyler fell before the doughty arm of sir william of walworth. on returning from the show, the khan was taken to see newgate, with the gloomy aspect of which, and the silent and strict discipline enforced among the prisoners, he was deeply impressed; "to these poor wretches the gate of mercy is indeed shut, and that of hardship and oppression thrown open." his sympathies were still more strongly awakened on discovering among those unfortunate creatures an indian moslem, who proved, on enquiry, to be a lascar sailor, imprisoned for selling smuggled cigars--"and, in my ignorance of the laws and customs of the country, i was anxious to procure his liberation by paying the fine; but my friends told me that this was absolutely impossible, and that he must remain the full time in prison. so we could only thank the governor for his attention, and then took our departure." following the steps of the khan from grave to gay, in his desultory course through the endless varieties of "life in london," we are at once transported from the dismal cells of newgate to the fancy-dress ball at guildhall for the aid of the refugee poles. this seems to have been the first scene of the kind at which kerim khan had been present since his arrival in england; and though he was somewhat scandalized at perceiving that some of those in male attire were evidently ladies, he describes with considerable effect "the infinite variety of costumes, all very different from those of england, as if each country had contributed its peculiar garb," the brilliant lighting and costly decoration of the rooms, and the picturesque grouping of the vast assemblage. but his first impressions on english dancing are perfectly unique in their way, and we can only do justice to them by quoting them at length. "it is so entirely unlike any thing we ever heard of in hindustan, that i cannot refrain from giving a slight sketch of what i saw. in the first place, the company could not have been fewer than or , of the highest classes of society, the ministers, the nobles, and the wealthy, with their wives and daughters. several hundreds stood up, every gentleman with a lady; and they advanced and retired several times, holding each other by the hand, to the sound of the music: at last the circle they had formed broke up, some running off to the right, and some to the left--then a gentleman, leaving his lady, would strike out obliquely across the room, sometimes making direct for another lady at a distance, and sometimes stooping and flourishing with his legs as he went along: when he approached her, he made a sort of salaam, and then retreated. another would go softly up to a lady, and then suddenly seizing her by the waist, would turn and twist her round and round some fifty times till both were evidently giddy with the motion: this was sometimes performed by a few chosen dancers, and sometimes by several hundreds at once--all embracing each other in what, to our notions, would seem rather an odd sort of way, and whirling round and round; and though their feet appeared constantly coming in contact with each other, a collision never took place. and those who met in this affectionate manner were, as i was told, for the most part perfect strangers to each other, which to me was incomprehensible! several ladies asked me to dance with them, but i excused myself by saying that their dancing was so superlatively beautiful that it was sufficient to admire it, and that i was afraid to try--'besides,' said i, 'it is contrary to our customs in hindustan.' to which they replied that india was far off, and no one could see me. 'but,' said i 'there are people who put every thing in the newspapers, and if my friends heard of it i should lose caste.' the ladies smiled; and after this i was not asked to dance." the persian princes, when in a similar dilemma, evaded the request by "taking oath that we did not know how, and that our mother did not care to teach us; and thank god," concludes najef-kooli with heartfelt gratitude, "we never did dance. god protect the faithful from it!" independent of the above recorded opinions on the singularity of quadrilles and waltzes, the khan takes this occasion to enter into a disquisition on the inconsistency (doubly incongruous to an oriental eye) of the ladies having their necks, arms, and shoulders uncovered, while the men are clothed up to the chin, "and not even their hands are allowed to be seen bare," and returned from the ball, no doubt, more lost than ever in wonder at the strange extravagances of the feringhis. these opinions are repeated, shortly after, on the occasion of the khan's being present at an evening party at clapham, which, as the invitation was _for the country_, he seems to have expected to find quite a different sort of affair from the entertainments at which he had already assisted in london. he was greatly surprised, therefore, to find the assemblage, on his arrival, engaged in the everlasting toil of dancing, "the men, as usual in this country, clad all in dismal black, and the ladies sparkling in handsome costumes of bright and variegated colours--another singular custom, of which i never could learn or guess the reason." but, however great a bore the sight of quadrilles may have been to the khan, ample amends were made to him on this occasion by the musical performances, with which several of the ladies ("though they all at first refused, evidently from modesty") gratified the company in the intervals of the dance, and at which he expresses unbounded delight; but this does not prevent his again launching out into a tirade against the unseemly methods, as they appear to him, used by the english to signify applause or approbation. "the strangest custom is, that the audience _clapped their hands_ in token of satisfaction whenever any of the ladies concluded their performance.... the only occasion on which such an exhibition of feeling is to be witnessed in hindustan, is when some offender is put upon a donkey, with a string of old shoes round his neck, and his face blackened and turned to the tail, and in this plight expelled from the city. then only do the boys--men never--clap their hands and cry hurra! hurra! thus, that which in one country implies shame and disgrace, is resorted to in another to express the highest degree of approbation!" passing over the khan's visits to the athenæum club-house, to buckingham palace, &c., his remarks on which contain nothing noticeable, except his mistaking some of the ancient portraits in the palace, from their long beards and rosaries, for the representations of moslem divines, we find him at last fairly in the midst of an english winter, and an eyewitness of a spectacle of all others the most marvellous and incredible to a hindustani, and which mirza abu-talib, while describing it, frankly confesses he cannot expect his countrymen to believe--the ice and the skaters in the regent's park.[ ] "what i had previously seen in the summer as water, with birds swimming and boats rowing upon it, was now transformed into an immense sheet of ice as hard as rock, on which thousands of persons, men, women, and children, were actually walking, running, and figuring in the most extraordinary manner. i saw men pass with the rapidity of an arrow, turning, wheeling, retrograding, and describing figures with surprising agility, sometimes on both, but more frequently on only one leg; they had all a piece of steel, turned up in front somewhat in the manner of our slippers, fastened to their shoes, by means of which they propelled themselves as i have described. after much persuasion, i went on the ice myself; though not without considerable fear; yet such a favourite sport is this with the english, and so infatuated are some of these _ice players_, that nothing will deter them from venturing on those places which are marked as dangerous; and thus many perish, like moths that sacrifice themselves in the candle flame. they have, therefore, parties of men, with their dresses stuffed with air-cushions, whose duty it is to watch on the ice, ready to plunge in whenever it breaks and any one is immersed." [ ] bishop heber, in his journal, also mentions the wonder of his bengali servants on their first sight of a piece of ice in himalaya, and their regret on finding that they could not carry it home to calcutta as a curiosity. the national theatres were now open for the winter, and the khan paid a visit to covent-garden; but he gives no particulars of the performances which he witnessed, though he was greatly struck by the splendour of the lighting and decoration, and still more by the almost magical celerity with which the changes of scenery were effected. the scanty notice taken of these matters, may perhaps be partly accounted for by the extraordinary fascination produced in the mind of the khan by the charms of one of the houris on the stage--whose name, though he does not mention it, our readers will probably have no difficulty in supplying; and it may be doubted whether the warmest panegyrics of the most ardent of her innumerable admirers ever soared quite so high a pitch into the regions of hyperbole as the oriental flights of the khan, who exhausts, in the praise of her attractions, all the imagery of the eastern poets. she is described as "cypress-waisted, rose-cheeked, fragrant as amber, and sweet as sugar, a stealer of hearts, who unites the magic of talismans with loveliness transcending that of the _peris!_ when she bent the soft arch of her eyebrows, she pierced the heart through and through with the arrows of her eyelashes; and when she smiled, the heart of the most rigid ascetic was intoxicated! she was gorgeously arrayed, and covered all over with jewels--and the _tout-ensemble_ of her appearance was such as would have riveted the gaze of the inhabitants of the spheres--what, then, more can a mere mortal say?"[ ] [ ] the sober prose of the parsees presents, as usual, an amusing contrast with the highflown rhapsodies of the moslem; their remarks on the same lady are comprised in the pithy observation--"we should not have taken her for more than twenty-six years of age; but we are told she is near fifty." at rundell and bridge's, to a view of the glittering treasures of whose establishment the khan was next introduced, he was not less astonished at the incalculable value of the articles he saw exhibited, "where the precious metals and magnificent jewellery of all sorts were scattered about as profusely as so many sorts of fruit in our delhi bazars"--as surprised at being informed that many of the nobles, and even of the royal family, here deposited their plate and jewels for safe custody; and that, "though all these valuables were left without a guard of soldiers, this shop has never been known to be attacked and plundered by robbers and thieves, who not unfrequently break into other houses.' among the models of celebrated gems here shown him, he particularizes a jewel which, for ages, has been the wonder of the east--"the famous _koh-in-noor_, (mountain of light,) now in the possession of the ruler of lahore and well known to have been forcibly seized by him from shah-shoojah, king of cabul, when a fugitive in the panjab;" as well as another, (the pigot diamond,) "now belonging to mohammed ali of egypt." the adelaide gallery of science is passed over with the remark, that it is, on the whole, inferior to the polytechnic, which he had previously visited. but the diorama, with the views of damascus, acre, &c., seems to have afforded him great gratification, as well as to have perplexed him not a little, by the apparent accuracy of its perspective. "some objects delineated actually appeared to be several _kos_ (a measure of about two miles) from us, others nearer, and some quite close. i marvelled how such things could be brought together before me; yet, on stretching out the hand, the canvass on which all this was represented might be touched." but all the wonders of the pictorial art, "which the europeans have brought to unheard of perfection," fade before the amazement of the khan, on being informed that it was possible for him to have a transcript of his countenance taken, without the use of pencil or brush, by the mere agency of the sun's rays; and even after having verified the truth of this apparently incredible statement by actual experiment in his own person, he still seems to have entertained considerable misgivings as to the legitimacy of the process--"how it was effected was indeed incomprehensible! here is an art, which, if it be not magic, it is difficult to conceive what else it can be!" the spring was now advancing; "and one day," says the khan, "not being sunday, i was surprised to observe all the shops shut, and the courts of justice, as well as the merchants' and public offices, all closed. on enquiry, i was told this was a great day, being the day on which the jews crucified the lord aysa, (jesus,) and that a general fast is, on this day, observed in europe, when the people abstain from flesh, eating only fish, and a particular kind of bread marked with a cross. this custom is, however, now confined to the ancient sect of christians called catholics for the real english never _observe fasts of any kind on any occasion whatever_; they eat, nevertheless, both the crossed bread and the fish. this fast is to the europeans what the _mohurrum_[ ] is to us; only here no particular signs of sorrow are to be seen on account of the death of aysa;--all eat, drink, and enjoy themselves on this day as much as any other; or, from what i saw, i should say they rather indulged themselves a little more than usual. another remarkable thing is, that this fast does not always happen at the same date, being regulated by the appearance of the moon; while, in every thing else, the english reckon by the solar year." [ ] the ten days' lamentation for the martyred imams, hassan and hussein, the grandsons of the prophet, who were murdered by the ommiyades. some notice of this ceremonial is given at the beginning of his narrative by the khan, who attended it just before he sailed from calcutta. we shall offer no comment, as we fear we can offer no contradiction, on the khan's account of the singular method of fasting observed in england, by eating salt fish and cross-buns in addition to the usual viands--but digressing without an interval from fasts to feasts, we next find him a guest at a splendid banquet, given by the lord mayor. though mirza abu-talib, at the beginning of the present century, was present at the feast given to lord nelson during the mayoralty of alderman coombe, the description of a civic entertainment, as it appeared to an oriental, must always be a curious _morceau_; and doubly so in the present instance, as given by a spectator to whom it was as the feast of the barmecide--since kerim khan, unlike his countryman, the mirza, religiously abstained throughout from the forbidden dainties of the franks, and sat like an anchorite at the board of plenty. to this concentration of his faculties in the task of observing, we probably owe the minute detail he has given us of the festive scene before him, which we must quote, as a companion sketch of feringhi manners to the previously cited account of the ball at guildhall:--"at length dinner was announced: and all rose, and led by the queen of the city, (the lady mayoress,) withdrew to another room, where the table was laid out in the most costly manner, being loaded with dishes, principally of silver and gold, and covered with _sar-poshes_, (lids or covers,) some of which were of immense size, like little boats. when the servants removed the _sar-poshes_, fishes and soup of every sort were presented to view: some of the former, i was told, brought as rarities from distant seas, and at great expense. before every man of rank there was an immense dish, which it is his duty to cut up and distribute, putting on each plate about sufficient for a baby to eat. i turned to a friend and enquired why the guests were helped so sparingly? 'it is customary,' said he, 'to serve guests in this way.' 'but why not give them enough?' rejoined i. 'you will soon see,' replied he, 'that they will all have enough.'[ ] [ ] to explain the khan's ignorance of the form of an english entertainment, it should be remembered that his religious scruples excluded him from dinner parties--and that, except on occasions of form like the present, or the party on hoard the oriental at southampton, he had probably never witnessed a banquet in england. "soon after, all the dishes, spoons, &c., were removed by the servants. i thought the dinner was over, and was preparing to go, not a little astonished at such scanty hospitality, when other dishes were brought in, filled with choice viands of every kind--bears from russia and germany--hogs from ireland--fowls and geese from france--turtle from the mediterranean(?)--venison from the parks of the nobility--some in joints, some quite whole, with their limbs and feet entire. operations now recommenced, the carvers doling out the same small quantities as before: but though many of the gentlemen present were anxious to prevail on me to partake, and recommended particular dishes, one as being 'a favourite of the king of the french'--another as particularly rare and exquisite, i could not be prevailed upon to partake of any. thus did innumerable dishes pour and disappear again, the servants constantly changing the plates of the guests: till i began to form quite a different idea of the appetites of the guests, and the hospitality of the lord mayor, on which i had thought that a reflection was thrown by the small portions sent to them. i now saw that many of them, besides being served pretty often, helped themselves freely to the dishes before them--indeed, their appetite was wonderfully good: some, doubtless, thinking that such an opportunity would not often recur. nor did they forget the juice of the grape--the bottles which were opened would have filled a ship, and the noise of the champagne completely drowned the music. one would have thought that, after all this, no men could eat more: but now the fruits, sweetmeats ices, and jellies made their appearance, pine-apples, grapes, oranges, apples, pears, mulberries, and confectionaries of such strange shapes that i can give no name to them--and before each guest were placed small plates, with peculiarly shaped knives of gold and silver. of this part of the banquet i had the pleasure of partaking, in common with the selfsame gentlemen who had done such honour to the thousand dishes above mentioned, and who now distinguished themselves in the same manner on the dessert. the price of some of the fruit was almost incredible; the reason of which is, that in this country it can only be reared in glass-houses artificially heated ... thus the pine-apples, which are by no means fine, cost each twenty rupees, (l. ,) which in india would be bought for two pice--thus being times dearer than in our country. thus in england the poorer classes cannot afford to eat fruit, whereas in all other countries they can get fruit when grain is too dear. "the guests continued at table till late, during which time several gentlemen rose and spoke: but, from my imperfect knowledge of the language, i could not comprehend their purports beyond the compliments which they passed on each other, and the evident attacks which they made on their political opponents. i at last retired with some others to another room, where many of the guests were dancing--coffee and tea were here taken about, just as sherbets are with us in the mohurrum. i must remark that the servants were gorgeously dressed, being covered with gold like the generals of the army; but the most extraordinary thing about them was, there having their heads covered with ashes, like the hindoo fakirs-a custom indicative with us of sorrow and repentance. i hardly could help laughing when i looked at them; but a friend kindly explained to me that, in england, none but the servants of the great are _privileged_ to have ashes strewed on their heads, and that for this distinction their masters actually pay a tax to government! 'is this enjoined by their religion?' said i. 'oh no!' he replied. 'then,' said i, 'since your religion does not require it, and it appears, to our notions at least, rather a mark of grief and mourning, where is the use of paying a tax for it?' '_it is the custom of the country_.' said he again. after this i returned hone, musing deeply on what i had seen." with this inimitable sketch, we take leave of the khan for the present, shortly to return to his ideas of men and manners in _feringhistan_. * * * * * the banking-house. a history in three parts. part i. chapter i. prospective. if, as wordsworth, that arch-priest of poesy, expresses it, i could place the gentle reader "_atween the downy wings_" of some beneficent and willing angel, in one brief instant of time should he be deposited on the little hill that first discovers the smiling, quiet village of ellendale. he would imbibe of beauty more in a breath, a glance, than i can pour into his soul in pages of spiritless delineation. i cannot charm the eye with that great stream of liquid light, which, during the long and lingering summer's day, issues from the valley like an eternal joy; i cannot fascinate his ear, and soothe his spirit with nature's deep mysterious sounds, so delicately slender and so soft, that silence fails to be disturbed, but rather grows more mellow and profound; i cannot with a stroke present the teeming hills, flushed with their weight of corn, that now stands stately in the suspended air--now, touched by the lightest wind that ever blew, flows like a golden river. as difficult is it to convey a just impression of a peaceful spot, whose praise consists--so to speak--rather in privatives than positives; whose privilege it is to be still free, tranquil, and unmolested, in a land and in an age of ceaseless agitation, in which the rigorous virtues of our fathers are forgotten, and the land's integrity threatens to give way. if ellendale be not the most populous and active village, it is certainly the most rustic and winning that i have ever beheld in our once _merry_ england. it is secreted from the world, and lies snugly and closely at the foot of massive hills, which nature seems to have erected solely for its covert and protection. it is situated about four miles from the high-road, whence you obtain at intervals short glimpses as it rears its tiny head into the open day. if the traveller be fresh from an overworked and overworking city, he looks upon what he deems a sheer impossibility--the residence of men living cheerfully and happily in solitude intense. the employment of the villagers is in the silent fields, from day to day, from year to year. their life has no variety, the general heart has no desire for change. it was so with their fathers--so shall it be with their own children, if the too selfish world will let them. the inhabitants are almost to a man poor, humble, and contented. the cottages are clean and neat, but lowly, like the owners. one house, and one alone, is distinguished from the rest; it is aged, and ivy as venerable as itself clings closer there as years roll over it. it has a lawn, an antique door and porch, narrow windows with the smallest diamond panes, and has been called since its first stone was laid, _the vicarage_. forget the village, courteous reader, and cross with me the hospitable threshold, for here our history begins--and ends. the season is summer--the time evening--the hour that of sunset. the big sun goes down like a ball of fire, crimson-red, leaving at the horizon's verge his splendid escort--a host of clouds glittering with a hundred hues, the gorgeous livery of him they have attended. a borrowed glory steals from them into an open casement, and, passing over, illumines for a time a face pale even to sadness. it is a woman's. she is dressed in deepest mourning, and is--heaven be with her in her solitariness!--a recent widow. she is thirty years of age at least, and is still adorned with half the beauty of her youth, not injured by the hand of suffering and time. the expression of the countenance is one of calmness, or, it may be, resignation--for the tranquility has evidently been taught and learnt as the world's lesson, and is not native there. near her sits a man benign of aspect, advanced in years; his hair and eyebrows white from the winter's fall; his eye and mien telling of decline, easy and placid as the close of softest music, and nothing harsher. care and trouble he has never known; he is too old to learn them now. his dress is very plain. the room in which he sits is devoid of ornament, and furnished like the study of a simple scholar. books take up the walls. a table and two chairs are the amount of furniture. the vicar has a letter in his hand, which he peruses with attention; and having finished, he turns with a bright smile towards his guest, and tells her she is welcome. "you are very welcome, madam, for your own sake, and for the sake of him whose signature is here; although, i fear, you will scarcely find amongst us the happiness you look for. there will be time, however, to consider"-- "i _have_ considered, sir;" answered the lady, somewhat mournfully. "my resolution has not been formed in haste, believe me." the vicar paused, and reperused the letter. "you are probably aware, madam, that my brother has communicated"-- "every thing. your people are poor and ignorant. i can be useful to them. reduced as i am, i may afford them help. i may instruct the children--attend the sick--relieve the hungry. can i do this?" "pardon me, dear lady. i am loth to repress the noble impulses by which you are actuated. it would be very wrong to deny the value and importance of such aid; but i must entreat you to remember your former life and habits. i fear this place is not what you expect it. in the midst of my people, and withdrawn from all society, i have accustomed myself to seek for consolation in the faithful discharge of my duties, and in communion with the chosen friends of my youth whom you see around me. you are not aware of what you undertake. there will be no companionship for you--no female friend--no friend but myself. our villagers are labouring men and women--our population consists of such alone. think what you have been, and what you must resign." the lady sighed deeply, and answered-- "it is, mr littleton, just because i cannot forget what i have been, that i come here to make amends for past neglect and sinfulness. i have a debt _there_, sir"--and she pointed solemnly towards the sky--"which must be paid. i have been an unfaithful steward, and must be reconciled to my good master ere i die. you may trust me. you know my income and my means. it is trifling; comparatively speaking--nothing. yet, less than half of it must suffice for my support. the rest is for your flock. you shall distribute it, and you shall teach me how to minister to their temporal necessities--how to labour for their eternal glory. the world and i have parted, and for ever." "i will not oppose you further madam. you shall make the trial if you please, and yet"--the vicar hesitated. "pray speak, sir," said the lady. "i was thinking of your accommodation. here i could not well receive you--and i know no other house becoming"-- "do not mock me, mr littleton. a room in the cot of your poorest parishioner is more than i deserve--more than the good fishermen of galilee could sometimes find. think of me, i beg, as i am--not as i have been." as the lady spoke, a servant-maid entered the apartment with the supper-tray, which the good vicar had ordered shortly after the arrival of his guest. during the repast, it was arranged that the lady should pass the night in the cottage of john humphrys, a man acknowledged to be the most industrious in the village, and who had become the especial favourite of the vicar, by marrying, as the latter jocosely termed it, into his family. john humphrys' wife had been the vicar's housekeeper. the reverend hugh littleton was a bachelor, and had always been most cautious and discreet. although he had a bed to spare, he did not think of offering it to his handsome visitor; nor, and this is more remarkable, did he again that evening resume the subject of their previous conversation. he spoke of matters connected with the world, from which he had been separated for half a century, but from whose turmoil the lady had only a few weeks before disentangled herself. to a good churchman, the condition of the church is always a subject of the deepest interest, as her prosperity is a source of gratitude and joy. tidings of the movement which had recently taken place in the very heart of the establishment had already reached his secluded parish, filling him with doubt and apprehension. he was glad to gain what further information his friendly visitor could afford him. we may conclude, from the observations of the vicar, that her communication was unsatisfactory. "it is a cowardly thing, madam," said he, "to withdraw from a scene of contest in the hour of danger, and when all our dearest interests are at stake; and yet i do thank my god, from the bottom of my heart, that i am not an eyewitness to the dishonour and the shame which men are heaping on our blessed faith. are we christians? do we come before the world as the messengers of glad tidings--of _unity_ and _peace_? we profess to do it, whilst discord, enmity, hatred, and persecution are in our hearts and on our tongue. the atheist and the worldling live in harmony, whilst the children of christ carry on their unholy warfare one against the other. strange anomaly! can we not call upon our people to love their god with all their hearts--and their neighbours as themselves? can we not strive by our own good example to teach them how to do this? would it not be more profitable and humane, than to disturb them with formalities that have no virtue in themselves--to distress them with useless controversies, that settle no one point, teach no one doctrine, but unsettle and unfix all the good that our simple creed had previously built up and made secure?" "it is very true, sir;--and it is sweet to hear you talk so." if the lady desired to hear more, it was unwise of her to speak so plainly. the vicar was unused to praise, and these few words effectually stopped him. he said no more. the lady remained silent for a minute or two, then rose and took her leave. the night was very fine, and the vicar's servant maid accompanied her to john humphrys' door. here she found a wholesome bed, but her pillow did not become a resting-place until she moistened it with tears--the bitterest that ever wrung a penitent and broken heart. * * * * * chapter ii. retrospective james mildred was a noble-hearted gentleman. at the age of eighteen he quitted england to undertake an appointment in india, which he had obtained through the interest of his uncle, an east indian director. he remained abroad thirty years, and then returned, a stranger, to his native land, the owner of a noble fortune. his manners were simple and unassuming--his mind was masculine and well-informed--his generous soul manifest in every expression of his manly countenance. he had honourably acquired his wealth, and whilst he amassed, had been by no means greedy of his gains. he dealt out liberally. there were many reasons why james mildred at the age of forty-eight returned to england. i shall state but one. he was still a bachelor. the historian at once absolves the gentler sex from any share of blame. it was not, in truth, their fault that he continued single. many had done their utmost to remove this stigma from james mildred's character; had they done less they might, possibly, have been more successful. mildred had a full share of sensibility, and recoiled at the bare idea of being snared into a state of blessedness. the woman was not for him, who was willing to accept him only because his gold and he could not be separated. neither was he ambitious to purchase the easy affection of the live commodity as it arrives in ships from england, with other articles of luxury and merchandize. after years of successful exertion, he yearned for the enjoyments of the domestic hearth, and for the home-happiness which an englishman deserves, because he understands so well its value. failing to obtain his wish in india, he journeyed homeward, sound in mind and body, and determined to improve the comfort and condition of both, by a union with amiability, loveliness, and virtue, if in one individual he could find them all combined, and finding, could secure them for himself. it might have been a year after his appearance in london, that he became acquainted with the family of mr graham, a lieutenant in the navy on half-pay, and the father of two children. he was a widower, and not affluent. his offspring were both daughters, and, at the time to which i allude, full grown, lovely women. their mother had been a governess previously to her marriage, and her subsequent days had been profitably employed in the education of her daughters; in preparing them, in fact, for the condition of life into which they would inevitably fall, if they were still unmarried at the dissolution of their father. they were from infancy taught to expect their future means of living from their own honourable exertions, and they grew happier and better for the knowledge. mildred had retired to a town on the sea-coast, in which this family resided; and, shortly after his arrival, he first beheld the elder of the lieutenant's children. she was then in her nineteenth year, a lovely, graceful, and accomplished creature. i cannot say that he was smitten at first sight, but it must have been soon afterwards; for the day succeeding that on which he met her, found him walking and chatting with her father, as familiarly as though they had been friends from infancy. before a week was over, the lieutenant had dined three times with mildred at his hotel, and had taken six pipes, and as many glasses of grog, in token of his fidelity and good fellowship. from being the host of lieutenant graham, it was an easy transition to become his guest. mildred was taken to the mariner's cot, and from that hour his destiny was fixed. in margaret graham he found, or he believed he had, the being whom he had sought so long--the vision which had not, until now, been realized. six months elapsed, and found the lover a constant visitor at the lieutenant's fireside. he had never spoken of his passion, nor did any of the household dream of what was passing in his heart, save margaret, who could not fail to see that she possessed it wholly. his wealth was likewise still a secret, his position in society unknown. his liberal sentiments and unaffected demeanour had gained him the regard of the unsophisticated parent--his modest bearing and politeness were not less grateful to the sisters. mildred had resolved a hundred times to reveal to margaret the depth and earnestness of his attachment, and to place his heart and fortune at her feet, but he dared not do it when time and opportunity arrived. day by day his ardent love increased--stronger and stronger grew the impression which had first been stamped upon his noble mind; new graces were discovered; virtues were developed that had escaped his early notice, enhancing the maiden's loveliness and worth. still he continued silent. he was a shy, retiring man, and entertained a meek opinion of his merits. the difference of age was very great. he dwelt upon the fact, until it seemed a barrier fatal to his success. young, accomplished, and exceeding beautiful, would she not expect, did she not deserve, a union with youth and virtues equal to her own? was it not madness to suppose that she would shower such happiness on him? was he not over bold and arrogant to hope it? aware of his disadvantage, and rendered miserable by the thought of losing her in consequence, he had been tempted once or twice to communicate to margaret the amount of wealth that he possessed; but here, too, his reluctant tongue grew ever dumb as he approached the dangerous topic. no; his soul would pine in disappointment and despair, before it could consent to _purchase_ love--love which transcends all price when it becomes the heart's free offering, but is not worth a rush to buy or bargain for. could he but be sure that for himself alone she would receive his hand--could he but once be satisfied of this, how paltry the return, how poor would be the best that he could offer for her virgin trust? what was his wealth compared with that? but _how_ be sure and satisfied? ask and be refused? refused, and then denied the privilege to gaze upon her face, and to linger hour after hour upon the melody which, flowing from her fair lips, had so long charmed, bewildered him! to be shut out for ever from the joy that had become a part of him, with which, already in his dreams, he had connected all that remained to him as yet of life!--it is true, james mildred was old enough to be sweet margaret's father; but for his _heart_, with all its throbbings and anxieties, it might have been the young girl's younger brother's. a lucky moment was it for mildred, when he thought of seeking counsel from the straightforward and plain-speaking officer. a hint sufficed to make the parent wise, and to draw from him the blunt assurance, that mildred was a son-in-law to make a father proud and happy. "i never liked, my friend, superfluous words," said he; "you have my consent, mind that, when you have settled matters with the lass." it was a very few hours after the above words were spoken, that, either by design or chance, mildred and margaret found themselves together. the lieutenant and his younger daughter were from home, and margaret was seated in the family parlour, engaged in profitable work, as usual. upon entering the room, the lover saw immediately that graham had committed him. his easy and accustomed step had never called a blush into the maiden's cheek. wherefore should it now? he felt the coming and the dreaded crisis already near, and that his fate was hanging on her lips. his heart fluttered, and he became slightly perturbed; but he sat down manfully; determined to await the issue. margaret welcomed him with more restraint than was her wont, but not--he thought and hoped--less cordially. maidens are wilful and perverse. why should she hold her head down, as she had never done before? why strain her eyes upon her work, and ply her needle as though her life depended on the haste with which she wrought? thus might she receive a foe; better treatment surely merited so good a friend? "miss graham," said at length the resolute yet timid man, "do i judge rightly? your father has communicated to you our morning's conversation?" "he has, sir," answered margaret too softly for any but a lover's ear. "then, pardon me, dear lady," continued mildred, gaining confidence, as he was bound to do, "if i presume to add all that a simple and an honest man can proffer to the woman he adores. i am too old--that is to say, i have seen too much of life, perhaps, to be able to address you now in language that is fitting. but, believe me, dear miss graham, i am sensible of your charms, i esteem your character, i love you ardently. i am aware of my presumption. i am bold to approach you as a suitor; but my happiness depends upon your word and i beg you to pronounce it. dismiss me, and i will trouble you no longer. i will endeavour to forget you--to forget that i beheld you--that i ever nourished a passion which has made life sweeter to me than i believed it could become; but if, on the other hand"-- how strange it is, that we will still create troubles in a world that already abounds with them! here had mildred lived in a perpetual fever for months together, teazing and fretting himself with anxieties and doubts; whilst, as a reasonable being, he ought to have been as cheerful and as merry as a lark singing at the gate of heaven. in the midst of his oration, the gentle margaret resigned her work, and wept. i say no more. i will not even add that she had been prepared to weep for months before--that she had grown half fearful and half angry at the long delay--that she was woman, and ambitious--that she had heard of mildred's mine of wealth, and longed to share it with him. such secrets, gentle reader, might, if revealed, attaint the lady's character. i therefore choose to keep them to myself. it is very certain that mildred was forthwith accepted, and that, after a courtship of three months, he led to the altar a woman of whose beauty and talents a monarch might justly have been proud. it is not to the purpose of this narrative to describe the wedding guests and garments--the sumptuous breakfast--the continental tour. it was a fair scene to look at, that auspicious bridal morn. the lieutenant's unaffected joy--the bridegroom's blissful pride--the lady's modesty, and--shall i call it?--triumph, struggling through it; these and other matters might employ an idle or a dallying pen, but must not now arrest one busy with more serious work. far different are the circumstance and season which call for our regard. we leave the lovers in their bridal bower, and pensively approach the chamber of sickness and of death. it is ten years since mildred wedded. he is on the verge of sixty, and seems more aged, for he is bowed down with bodily disease and pain. his wife, not thirty yet, looks not an hour older than when we saw her last, dressed like a queen for her espousal. she is more beautiful, as the full developed rose in grace surpasses the delicate and still expanding bud; but there she is, the same young margaret. how they have passed the married decade, how both fulfilled their several duties, may be gathered from a description of mildred's latest moments. he lies almost exhausted on his bed of suffering, and only at short intervals can find strength to make his wishes known to one who, since he was a boy, has been a faithful and a constant friend. he is his comforter and physician now. "you have not told me, wilford," said mildred in a moment of physical repose, "you have not told me yet how long. let me, i implore you, hear the truth. i am not afraid to die. is there any hope at all?" the physician's lip quivered with affectionate grief; but did not move in answer. "there is _no_ hope then," continued the wasting invalid. "i believe it--i believe it. but tell me, dearest friend, how long may this endure?" "i cannot say," replied the doctor; "a day or two, perhaps: i fear not longer, mildred." "fear _not_, old friend," said mildred. "i do not fear. i thank my god there is an end of it." "is your mind happy, mildred?" asked the physician. "you shall judge yourself. i die at peace with all men. i repent me heartily of my sins. i place my hope in my redeemer. i feel that he will not desert me. i did never fear death, wilford. i can smile upon him now." "you will see a clergyman?" "yes, wilford, an hour hence; not now. i have sent _her_ away, that i might hear the worst from you. she must be recalled, and know that all is fixed, and over. we will pray together--dear, faithful margaret--sweet, patient nurse! heaven bless her!" "she is to be pitied, mildred. to die is the common lot. we are not all doomed to mourn the loss of our beloved ones!" "but, wilford, you will be good and kind to her, and console her for my loss. you are my executor and dearest friend. you will have regard to my dying words, and watch over her. be a father and a brother to her. you will--will you not?" "i will," answered the physician solemnly. "thank you, brother--thank you," replied the patient, pressing his friend's hand warmly. "we are brothers now, wilford--we were children, schoolboys together. do you remember the birds'-nesting--and the apple-tree in the orchard? oh, the happy scenes of my boyhood are fresher in my memory to day than the occurrences of yesterday!" "you were nearer heaven in your boyhood, mildred, than you have been since, until this hour. we are travelling daily further from the east, until we are summoned home again. the light of heaven is about us at the beginning and the close of life. we lose it in middle age, when it is hid by the world's false and unsubstantial glare." "i understand something of what you say. i never dreaded this hour. i have relied for grace, and it has come--but, wilford"-- "what would you say?" "margaret." "what of her?" "if you could but know what she has done for me--how, for the last two years, she has attended me--how she has sacrificed all things for me, and for my comfort--how she has been, against my will, my servant and my slave--you would revere her character as i do. night after night has she spent at my bedside; no murmur--no dull, complaining look--all cheerfullness! i have been peevish and impatient--no return for the harsh word, and harsher look. so young--so beautiful--so self devoted. i have not deserved such love--and now it is snatched from me, as it should be"-- "you are excited, mildred," said the good doctor. "you have said too much. rest now--rest." "let me see her," answered mildred. "i cannot part with her an instant now." and in a few minutes the angel of light--for such she was to the declining man--glided to the dying bed. when she approached it his eyes were shut, and his lips moved as if in prayer. at his side she stood, the faithful tears pouring down her cheek, her voice suspended, lest a breath should fall upon the sufferer and awaken him to pain. quietly at last, as if from sweetest sleep, his eyes unclosed, and, with a fond expression, fixed themselves on _her_. faster and faster streamed the unchecked tears adown the lovely cheek, louder and louder grew the agonizing sobs that would not be controlled. he took her drooping palm, pressed it as he might between his bony hands, and covered it with kisses. doctor wilford silently withdrew. "dear, good margaret," the sick man faltered, "i shall lose you soon. heaven will bless you for your loving care." "take courage, dearest," was margaret's reply; "all will yet be well." "it will, beloved--but not here," he answered. "we shall meet again--be sure of it. god is merciful, not cruel, and our happiness on earth has been a foretaste of the diviner bliss hereafter. we are separated but for an hour. do not weep, my sweet one, but listen to me. it was my duty to reward you, margaret, for all that you have done for the infirm old man. i have performed this duty. every thing that i possess is yours! my will is with my private papers in the desk. it will do you justice. could i have given you the wealth of india, you would have deserved it all." tears, tears were the heart's intense acknowledgment. what could she say at such a time? "i have thought fit, my margaret, to burden you with no restrictions. i could not be so wicked and so selfish as to wish you not to wed again"-- "speak not of it, james--speak not of it," almost screamed the lovely wife, intercepting the generous speaker's words. "do not overwhelm me with my grief." "it is best, my margaret, to name these things whilst power is still left me. understand me, dearest. i do not bid you wed again. you are free to do it if it will make you happier." "never--never, dearest and best of men! i am yours in life and death--yours for ever. before heaven i vow"-- mildred touched the upraised hand, held it in his own, and in a feeble, worn-out voice, said gravely-- "i implore you to desist--spare me the pain--make not a vow so rash. you are young and beautiful, my margaret--a time may come--let there be no vow. where is wilford? i wish to have you both about me." the following morning margaret was weeping on her husband's corpse. ten years before, she had wept when he proposed for her, and ten years afterwards, almost to a day, she was weeping on john humphrys' pillow, distressed with recollections that would not let her rest. * * * * * chapter iii the beginning of the end doctor chalmers was right. the discovery of the telescope was very fine in its way; but the invention of the microscope was, after all, a much more sensible affair. we may look at the mountains of the moon, and the spots on the sun, until we have rendered our eyes, for all practical purposes, useless for a month, and yet not bring to light one secret worth knowing, one fact that, as inhabitants of the earth, we care to be acquainted with. not so with one microscopic peep at a particle of water or an atom of cheese. here we arrive at once at the disclosure of what modern philosophers call "a beautiful law"--a law affecting the entirety of animal creation--invisible and visible; a law which proclaims that the inferior as well as the superior animals, the lowest as well as the highest, the smallest as well as the largest, live upon one another, derive their strength and substance from attacking and devouring those of their neighbours. shakspeare, whom few things escaped, has not failed to tell us, that "there be land rats and water rats, water thieves and land thieves;" he knew not, however, that there be likewise water devils as well as land devils--water lawyers as well as land lawyers--water swindlers as well as land swindlers. in one small liquid drop you shall behold them all--indeed a commonwealth of christians but for their forms, and for the atmosphere in which they live and fight. i have often found great instruction in noting the hypocritical antics of a certain watery rascal, whose trick it is to lie in one snug corner of the globule, feigning repose, indifference, or sleep. nothing disturbs him, until some weak, innocent animalcule ventures unsuspiciously within his reach, and then with one muscular exertion, the monster darts, gripes, gulps him down--goes to his sleep or prayers again, and waits a fresh arrival. the creature has no joy but in the pangs of others--no life but in their sufferings and death. even worse than this thing is the worm, its earthly prototype, with whom, rather than with himself, this chapter has to deal. whilst the last most precious drops of mildred's breath were leaving him, whilst his cleansed soul prepared itself for solemn flight, whilst all around his bed were still and silent as the grave already digging for him--one human eye, secreted from the world and unobserved, peered into the lonely chamber, watching for the dissolution, impatient at delay, and greedy for the sight. i speak of an old, grey-headed man, a small, thin creature of skin and bone, sordid and avaricious in spirit--one who had never known mildred, had not once spoken to or seen him, but who had heard of his possessions, of his funded gold, and whose grasping soul was sick to handle and secure them. abraham allcraft, hunks as he was, was reputed wealthy. for years he had retained a high position as the opulent banker of the mercantile city of ----. his business was extensive--his habits mean, penurious; his credit was unlimited, as his character was unimpeachable. there are some men who cannot gain the world's favour, do what they will to purchase it. there are others, on the other hand, who, having no fair claim at all to it, are warmed and nourished throughout life by the good opinion of mankind. no man lived with fewer virtues than abraham allcraft; no man was reputed richer in all the virtues that adorn humanity. he was an honest man, because he starved upon a crust. he was industrious, because from morn till night he laboured at the bank. he was a moral man, because his word was sacred, and no one knew him guilty of a serious fault. he was the pattern of a father--witness the education of his son. he was the pattern of a banker--witness the house's regularity, and steady prosperous course. he lived within view of the mansion in which mildred breathed his last; he knew the history of the deceased, as well as he knew the secrets of his own bad heart. he had seen the widow in her solitary walks; he had made his plans, and he was not the man to give them up without a struggle. it was perhaps on the tenth day after mildred had been deposited in the earth, that margaret permitted the sun once more to lighten her abode. since the death of her husband the house had been shut up--no visitor had been admitted--there had been no witness to her agony and tears. it should be so. there are calamities too great for human sympathy; seasons too awful for any presence save that of the eternal. time, reason, and religion--not the hollow mockery of solemn words and looks--must heal the heart lacerated by the tremendous deathblow. abraham allcraft had waited for this day. he saw the gloomy curtains drawn aside--he beheld life stirring in the house again. he dressed himself more carefully than he had ever done before, and straightaway hobbled to the door, before another and less hasty foot could reach it. a painter, wishing to arrest the look of one who smiles, and smiles, and murders whilst he smiles, would have been glad to dwell upon the face of abraham, as he addressed the servant-man who gave him entrance. below the superficial grin, there was, as clear as day, the natural expression of the soul that would not blend with any show of pleasantry. abraham wished to give the attendant half-a-crown as soon as possible. he dared not offer it without a reason, so he dropped his umbrella, and, like a generous man, rewarded the honest fellow who stooped to pick it up. this preliminary over, and, as it were, so much of dirt swept from the very threshold, he gave his card, announced himself as mr allcraft, banker, and desired to see the lady on especial business. he was admitted. the ugliest of dresses did not detract from the perfect beauty of the widowed margaret; the bitterest of griefs had not removed the bloom still ripening on her cheek. time and sorrow were most merciful. the wife and widow looked yet a girl blushing in her teens. abraham allcraft gazed upon the lady, as he bowed his artful head, with admiration and delight, and then he threw one hurried and involuntary glance around the gorgeous room in which she sat, and then he made his own conclusions, and assumed an air of condolence and affectionate regard, as the wolf is said to do in fables, just before he pounces on the lamb and strangles it. the villain sighed. "sad time, madam," he said, in a lugubrious tone--"sad time. _strangers_ feel it." margaret held down her face. "i should have come before, madam, if propriety had not restrained me. i have only a few hours which i can take from business, but these belong to the afflicted and the poor." "you are very kind, sir." "i beg you, mrs mildred, not to mention it. it was a great shock to me to hear of mr mildred's death--a man in the prime of life. so very good--so much respected." "he was too good for this world, sir." "much, madam--very much; and what a consolation for you, that he is gone to a better--one more deserving of him. you will feel this more as you find your duties recalling you to active usefulness again." the lady shook her head despairingly. "i hope, madam, we may be permitted to do all we can to alleviate your forlorn condition. i am one of many who regard you with the deepest sympathy. you may have heard my name, perhaps." the lady bowed. "you _must_ be very dull here," exclaimed the wily abraham, gazing round him with the internal consciousness that the death of every soul he knew would not make _him_ dull in such a paradise--"very dull, i am sure!" "it was a cheerful home while _he_ lived, sir," answered margaret, most ruefully. "ah--yes," sighed abraham; "but now, too true--too true." "i was thinking, mr allcraft"-- "before you name your thought, dear madam, let me explain at once the object of my visit. i am an old man--a father, and a widower--but i am also" (oh, crafty allcraft!) "a simple and an artless man. my words are few, but they express my meaning faithfully. there was a time when, placed in similar circumstances to your own, i would have given the world had a friend stepped forward to remove me for a season from the scene of all my misery. i remembered this whilst dwelling on your solitariness. within a few miles of this place, i have a little box untenanted at present. let me entreat you to retire to it, if only for a week. i place it at your command, and shall be honoured if you will accept the offer. the house is sweetly situated--the prospect charming; a temporary change cannot but soothe your grief. i am a father, madam--the father of a noble youth--and i know what you must suffer." "you anticipate my wish, sir, and i am grateful for your kindness. i was about to move many miles away; but it is advisable, perhaps, that for the present i should continue in this neighbourhood. i will see your cottage, and, if it pleases me, you will permit me to become your tenant for a time." "my guest rather, dear mrs mildred. the old should not be thwarted in their wishes. let me for the time imagine you my daughter, and act a father's part." the lady smiled in gratitude, and said that "she would see"--and then the following day was fixed for a short visit to the cottage and then the virtuous allcraft took his leave, and went immediately to mr final, house agent and appraiser. this gentleman was empowered to let a handsome furnished villa, just three miles distant from poor margaret's residence. allcraft hired it at once for one month certain, reserving to himself the option of continuing it for any further period. he signed the agreement--paid the rent--received possession. this over, he hurried back to business, and by the post dispatched a letter to his absent son, conjuring him, as he loved his father, and valued his regard, to return to ---- without an instant's hesitation or delay. * * * * * chapter iv. "miching mallecho; it means mischief." reader, i have no heart to proceed; i am sorry that i began at all--that i have got thus far. i love margaret, the beautiful and gentle--margaret, the heart-broken penitent. i love her as a brother; and what brother but yearns to conceal his erring sister's frailty? the faithful historian, however, is denied the privileges of fiction. he may not, if he would, divert the natural course of things; he cannot, though he pines to do it, expunge the written acts of providence let us go or in charity. michael allcraft, in obedience to his father's wish, came home. he was in his twenty-fourth year, stood six feet high, was handsome and well-proportioned. he was a youth of ardent temperament, liberal and high-spirited. how he became the son of such a sire is to me a mystery. it was not in the affections that the defects of michael's character were found. these were warm, full of the flowing milk of human kindness. weakness, however, was apparent in the more solid portions of the edifice. his morals, it must be confessed, were very lax--his principles unsteady and insecure--and how could it be otherwise? deprived of his mother at his birth, and from that hour brought up under the eye and tutelage of a man who had spent a life in the education of one idea--who regarded money-making as the business, the duty, the pleasure, the very soul and end of our existence--who judged of the worth of mankind--of men, women, and children--according to their incomes, and accounted all men virtuous who were rich--all guilty who were poor--whose spirit was so intent upon accumulation, that it did not stop to choose the straight and open roads that led to it, but often crept through many crooked and unclean--brought up, i say, under such a father and a guide, was it a wonder that michael was imperfect in many qualities of mind--that reason with him was no tutor, that his understanding failed to be, as south expresses it, "the soul's upper region, lofty and serene, free from the vapours and disturbances of the inferior affections?" in truth there was no upper region at all, and very little serenity in michael's composition. he had been a wayward and passionate boy. he was a restless and excitable man--full of generous impulses, as i have hinted, but sudden and hasty in action--swift in anger--impatient of restraint and government. his religious views were somewhat dim and undistinguishable even to himself. he believed--as who does not--in the great first cause, and in the usefulness of religion as an instrument of good in the hands of government. i do not think he troubled himself any further with the subject. he sometimes on the sabbath went to church, but oftener stayed at home, or sought excitement with a chosen friend or two abroad. he hated professing people, as they are called, and would rather shake hands with a housebreaker than a saint. it has been necessary to state these particulars, in order to show how thoroughly he lived uninfluenced by the high motives which are at once the inspiration and the happiness of all good men--how madly he rested on the conviction that religion is an abstract matter, and has nothing more to do with life and conduct than any other abstruse branch of metaphysics. but in spite of this unsound state of things, the gentleman possessed all the showy surface-virtues that go so very far towards eliciting the favourable verdict of mankind. he prided himself upon a delicate, a surprising sense of honour. he professed himself ready to part with his life rather than permit a falsehood to escape his lips; he would have blushed to think dishonestly--to _act_ so was impossible. pride stood him here in the stead of holiness; for the command which he refused to regard at the bidding of the almighty, he implicitly obeyed at the solicitation of the most ignoble of his passions. it is difficult to imagine a more dangerous companion for a young widow than michael allcraft was likely to prove. manliness of demeanour, and a handsome face and figure, have always their intrinsic value. if you add to these a cultivated mind, a most expressive and intellectual countenance, rich hazel eyes, as full of love as fire, a warm impulsive nature, shrinking from oppression, active in kindness and deeds of real benevolence--you will not fail to tremble for my margaret. abraham allcraft was too shrewd a man to allude even most remotely to the actual reason of his son's recall. he knew very well that to hint at it was in the very outset to defeat his purpose. he acted far more cautiously. michael had received a first rate education--he had been to the university--he had travelled through italy and germany; and when he received his father's letter was acquiring business habits in a banking-house in london. it was high time to settle seriously to work, so thought allcraft senior, and suddenly determined to constitute his son a partner in his bank. "he himself was getting old," he said. "who knew what would happen? delays were dangerous. he would delay no longer. now he was well, and michael might learn and profit by his long experience." michael consented--why should he not?--to be the junior partner in the prosperous house of allcraft senior and son. three months passed speedily, and margaret still continued abraham's tenant. she had lost the sting of her sorrow in the scenes of natural beauty by which she was surrounded. she had lived in strict retirement, and a gentle tide of peace was flowing gradually and softly to her soul again. she thought of quitting the tranquil cot with pain, and still fixed day after day for a departure that she could not take. the large house, associated as it was with all her grief, looked dismal at a distance. how would it be when she returned to it, and revisited the well-known rooms? every article of furniture was in one way or another connected with the departed. she never--no never could be happy there again. the seclusion to which she doomed herself had not prevented abraham allcraft from being her daily visitor. his age and character protected her from calumny. his sympathy and great attention had merited and won her unaffected gratitude. she received his visits with thankfulness, and courted them. the wealth which it was known he possessed acquitted him of all sinister designs; and it was easy and natural to attribute his regard and tenderness to the pity which a good man feels for a bereavement such as she had undergone. the close of six months found her still residing at the cottage, and abraham still a constant and untiring friend. he had been fortunate enough to give her able and important counsel. in the disposition of a portion of her property, he had evinced so great a respect for her interest, had regarded his own profit and advantages so little, that had margaret not been satisfied before of his probity and good faith, she would have been the most ungrateful of women not to acknowledge them now. but, in fact, poor margaret did acknowledge them, and in the simplicity of her nature had mingled in her daily prayers tears of gratitude to heaven for the blessing which had come to her in the form of one so fatherly and good. in the meanwhile where was michael? at home--at work--under the _surveillance_ of a parent who had power to check and keep in awe even his turbulent and outbreaking spirit. he had taken kindly to the occupation which had been provided for him, and promised, under good tuition, to become in time a proper man of business. he had heard of the widow mildred--her unbounded wealth--her unrivalled beauty. he knew of his father's daily visit to the favoured cottage, but he knew no more; nor more would he have _cared_ to know had not his father, with a devil's cunning, and with much mysteriousness, forbidden him to speak about the lady, or to think of visiting her so long as she remained amongst them. such being the interdict, michael was, of course, impatient to seek out the hidden treasure, and determined to behold her. delay increased desire, and desire with him was equal to attainment. whilst he was busy in contriving a method for the production of the lovely widow, his father, who had watched and waited for the moment that had come, suddenly requested him to accompany him to mrs mildred's house--to dine with that good lady, and to take leave of her before she departed from the neighbourhood for ever. michael did not need a second invitation. the eagerness with which he listened to the first was a true joy for abraham. margaret, be it understood, had not invited michael. the first year of her widowhood was drawing to a close, and she had resolved at length to remove from the retreat in which she had been so long hidden from mankind. her youthful spirits had rebounded--were once more buoyant--solitude had done its work--the physician was no longer needed. that she might gradually approach the busy world again, she proposed to visit, for a time, a small and pretty town, well known to her, on the eastern coast. the day was fixed for her removal, and, just one week before, she invited mr allcraft senior to a farewell dinner. she had not thought it necessary to include in the invitation the younger gentleman, whom she had never seen, albeit his father's constant and unlimited encomiums had made the _woman_ less unwilling to receive than to invite the youth, in whom the graces and the virtues of humanity were said to have their residence. and allcraft was aware of this too. for his head he would not have incurred the risk of giving her offence. with half an eye he saw the danger was not worth the speaking of. when i say that michael never eat less food at a meal in his life--never talked more volubly or better--never had been so thoroughly entranced and happy--so lost to every thing but the consciousness of _her_ presence, of the hot blood tingling in his cheek--of the mad delight that had leapt into his eyes and sparkled there, it will scarcely be requisite to describe more particularly the effect of this precious dinner party upon _him_. as for the lady, she would not have been woman had she failed to admire the generous sentiments--the witty repartees--the brilliant passages with which the young man's taste and memory enabled him to entertain and charm his lovely hostess. as for his handsome face and manly bearing--but, as we have said already, these have their price and value always. allcraft senior had the remarkable faculty of observing every thing either with or without the assistance of his eyes. during the whole of dinner he did not once withdraw his devil's vision from his plate, and yet he knew more of what was going on above it than both the individuals together, whose eyes it seemed had nothing better to do than just to take full notes of what was passing in the countenance of either. against this happy talent we must set off a serious failing in the character of abraham. he always had a nap, he said, the moment after dinner. accordingly, though he retired with the young people to the drawing-room, he placed himself immediately in an easy-chair, and quickly passed into a deep and long-enduring sleep. margaret then played sacred airs on the piano, which michael listened to with most unsacred feelings. fathers and mothers! put out your children's eyes--remove their toes--cut off their fingers. whilst with a lightning look, a hair-breadth touch, they can declare, make known the love, that, having grown too big for the young heart, is panting for a vent--you do but lose your pains whilst you stand by to seal their tremulous lips. speech! fond lovers did never need it yet--and never shall. what margaret thought when the impassioned youth turned her pages over one by one, (and sometimes two and three together,) and with a hand quivering as if it had committed murder--what she felt when his full liquid eye gazed on her, thanking her for her sweet voice, and imploring one strain more, i cannot tell, though abraham allcraft guessed exactly, bobbing and nodding, though he was, in slumber most profound. your talking and susceptible men are either at summer heat or zero. michael, who had been all animation and garrulity from the moment he beheld the widow until he looked his last unutterable adieus, became silent and morose as soon as he turned his back upon the cottage, and lost sight, as he believed, of the divinity for ever. he screwed himself into a corner of the coach, and there he sat until the short homeward journey was completed, mentally chewing, with the best appetite he could, the cud of that day's delicious feast. judging from his frequent sighs, and the uneasy shiftings in his seat, the repast was any thing but savoury. abraham said nothing. he had but a few words to utter, and these were reserved for the quiet half hour which preceded the usual time of rest. "michael," said the sire as they sat together in the evening. "father," said the junior partner. "two hundred thousand clear. she'll be a duchess!" a sigh, like a current of air, flowed through the room. "she deserves it, michael--a sweet creature--a coronet might be proud of her. why don't you answer, mike?" "father, she is an angel!" "pooh, pooh!" "a heavenly creature!" "i tell you what, mike, if i were a royal duke, and you a prince, i should be proud to have her for a daughter. but it is useless talking so. i sadly fear that some designing rascal, without a shilling in his pocket, will get her in his clutches, and, who knows, perhaps ruin the poor creature. what rosy lips she has! you cunning dog, i saw you ogle them." "father!" "you did, sir--don't deny it; and do you think i wonder at you, mike? ain't i your father, and don't i know the blood? come, go to bed, sir, and forget it all." "do you, father, really think it possible that--do you think she is in danger? i do confess she is loveliest, the most accomplished woman in the world. if she were to come to any harm--if--if"-- "now look you, mike. there are one or two trifling business matters to be arranged between the widow and myself before she leaves us. you shall transact them with her. i am too busy at the bank at present. you are my junior partner, but you are a hot-headed fellow, and i can hardly trust you with accounts. all i ask and bargain for is, _that you be cautious and discreet_--mark me, cautious and discreet. let me feel satisfied of this, and you shall settle all the matters as you please. business, sir, is business. i must acknowledge, mike, that such a pair of eyes would have been too much for old abraham forty years ago; and what a neck and bust! come, go to bed, sir, and get up early in the morning." * * * * * chapter v. matters of course. margaret mildred had not failed to note the impression which had been made upon the warm and youthful heart of michael; she was not displeased to note it; and from her couch she rose, the following morning, delighted with her dreams, and benevolently disposed towards mankind in general. she lingered at her toilet, grew hypercritical in articles of taste, and found defects in beauty without the shadow of a blemish. had some wicked sprite but whispered in her ear one thought injurious to the memory of her departed husband, margaret would have shrunk from its reception, and would have scorned to acknowledge it as her own. time, she felt and owned with gratitude, had assuaged her sorrows--had removed the sting from her calamity, but had not rendered her one jot less sensible to the great claims _he_ held, even now, on her affection. from the hour of mildred's decease up to the present moment, the widow had considered herself strictly bound by the vow which she had proposed to take, and would have taken, but for the dying man's earnest prohibition. her conscience told her that that prohibition, so far from setting her free from the engagement, did but render her more liable to fulfill it. her feelings coincided with the judgment of her understanding. both pronounced upon her the self-inflicted verdict of eternal widowhood. how long this sentence would have been respected, had michael never interfered to argue its repeal, it is impossible to say; as a general remark it may be stated, that nothing is so delusive as the heroic declarations we make in seasons of excitement--no resolution is in such danger of becoming forfeited as that which nature never sanctioned and which depends for its existence only upon a state of feeling which every passing hour serves to enfeeble and suppress. when margaret reached her breakfast-room, she found a nosegay on the table, and mr michael allcraft's card. he had called to make enquiries at a very early hour of the morning, and had signified his intention of returning on affairs of business later in the day. margaret blushed deeper than the rose on which her eyes were bent, and took alarm; her first determination was to be denied to him; the second--far more rational--to receive him as the partner in the banking-house, to transact the necessary business, and then dismiss him as a stranger, distantly, but most politely. this was as it should be. michael came. he was more bashful than he had been the night before, and he stammered an apology for his father's absence without venturing to look towards the individual he addressed. he drew two chairs to the table--one for margaret, another for himself. he placed them at a distance from each other, and, taking some papers from his pocket with a nervous hand, he sat down without a minute's loss of time to look over and arrange them. margaret was pleased with his behaviour; she took her seat composedly, and waited for his statement. there were a few select and favourite volumes on the table, and one of these the lady involuntarily took up and ran through, whilst michael still continued busy with his documents, and apparently perplexed by them. nothing can be more ill advised than to disturb a man immersed in business with literary or any other observations foreign to his subject. "you were speaking of wordsworth yesterday evening, mr allcraft," said margaret suddenly--allcraft pushed every paper from him in a paroxysm of delight, and looked up--"and i think we were agreed in our opinion of that great poet. what a sweet thing is this! did you ever read it? it is the sonnet on the sonnet." "a gem, madam. none but he could have written it. the finest writer of sonnets in the world has spoken the poem's praise with a tenderness and pathos that are inimitable. there is the true philosophy of the heart in all he says--a reconciliation of suffering humanity to its hard but necessary lot. how exquisite and full of meaning are those lines-- 'bees that soar for bloom, high as the highest peak of furness fells, will murmur by the hour in foxglove bells;' and then the touching close-- 'in truth, the prison unto which we doom ourselves, no prison is; and hence to me, in sundry moods, 'twas pastime to be bound within the sonnets scanty plot of ground; pleased if some souls, for such there needs must be, who have felt the weight of too much liberty, should find brief solace there as i have found.' _the weight of too much liberty_. ah, who has not experienced this!"--mr michael allcraft sighed profoundly. a slight pause ensued after this sudden outbreak on the part of the junior partner, and then he proceeded, his animated and handsome countenance glowing with expression as he spoke. "you are really to be envied, mrs mildred, with your cultivated tastes and many acquirements. you can comply with every wish of your elegant and well-informed mind. there is no barrier between you and a life of high mental enjoyment. the source of half my happiness was cut off when i exchanged my study for the desk. men cease to live when what is falsely called life begins with them." "we have all our work to do, and we should do it cheerfully. it is a lesson taught me by my mother, and experience has shown it to be just." "yes, madam, i grant you when your mother spoke. but it is not so now. mercantile occupation in england is not as it has been. i question whether it will ever be again. it is not closely and essentially associated, as it was of yore, with high principle and strict notions of honour. the simple word of the english merchant has ceased to pass current through the world, sacred as his oath--more binding than his bond; fair, manly dealing is at an end; and he who would mount the ladder of fortune, must be prepared to soil his hands if he hope to reach the top. legitimate trading is no longer profitable. selfishness is arrayed against selfishness--cunning against cunning--lying against lying--deception against deception. the great rogue prospers--the honest man starves with his innate sense of honour and integrity. is it possible to enter cheerfully upon employment which demands the sacrifice of soul even at the outset?" "you draw a dark picture, mr allcraft, slightly tinged, i trust, with the poetic pencil. but be it as gloomy as you paint it, we have still religion amongst us, and individuals who adapt their conduct to its principles"-- "ay, madam," said michael, quickly interrupting her, "i grant you all you wish. if we did but adapt our conduct to the doctrines of the testament--to that unequalled humanizing moral code--if we were taught to do this, and how to do it, we might hope for some amendment. but look at the actual state of things. the religious world is but a portion of the whole--a world within a world. preachers of peace--men who arrogate to themselves the divine right of inculcating truth, and who, if any, should be free from the corruption that taints the social atmosphere,--such men come before mankind already sick with warfare, widening the breaches, subdividing our divisions. are these men pure and single-minded? are these men free from the grasping itch that distinguishes our age? is there no such thing as trafficking with souls? are chapels bought and sold only with a spiritual view, or sometimes as men bargain for their theatres? are these men really messengers of peace, living in amity and union, acting christianity as well as preaching it? ask the papist, the protestant, the independent, and the thousand sects who dwell apart as foes, and, whilst they talk of love, are teaching mankind how to hate beneath the garb of sanctimoniousness and hollow forms!" "you are eloquent, mr allcraft, in a bad cause." "pardon me, mrs mildred," answered the passionate youth immediately, and with much bitterness, "but in the next street you shall find one eloquent in a worse. there is what some of us are pleased to call a popular preacher there. i speak the plain and simple truth, and say he is a hireling--a paid actor, without the credit that attaches to the open exercise of an honourable profession. the owner of the chapel is a usurer, or money-lender--no speculation answers so well as this snug property. the ranter exhibits to his audience once a-week--the place is crowded when he appears upon the stage--deserted when he is absent, and his place is occupied by one who fears, perhaps, to tamper with his god--is humble, honest, quiet. the crowds who throng to listen to the one, and will not hear the other, profess to worship god in what they dare to call _his_ sanctuary, and look with pity on such as have not courage to unite in all their hideous mockery." right or wrong, it was evident that michael was in earnest. he spoke warmly, but with a natural vehemence that by no means disfigured his good-looking visage, now illuminated with unusual fire. in these days of hollowness and hypocrisy, an ingenuous straightforward character is a refreshing spectacle, and commands our admiration, be the principles it represents just what they may. hence, possibly, the unaffected pleasure with which margaret listened to her visitor whilst he declaimed against men and things previously regarded by her with reverence and awe. he certainly was winning on her esteem. women are the strangest beings! let them guard against these natural and impetuous characters, say i. the business papers lay very quietly on the table, whilst the conversation flowed as easily into another channel. poets and poetry were again the subject of discourse; and here our michael was certainly at home. the displeasure which he had formerly exhibited passed like a cloud from his brow; he grew elated, criticized writer after writer, recited compositions, illustrated them with verses from the french and german; repeated his own modest attempts at translation, gave his hearer an idea of goethe, uhland, wieland, and the smaller fry of german poets, and pursued his theme, in short, until listener and reciter both were charmed and gratified beyond expression--she, with his talents and his manners--he, with her patience and attention, and, perhaps, her face and figure. mr allcraft, junior, after having proceeded in the above fashion for about three hours, suddenly recollected that he had made a few appointments at the banking-house. he looked at his watch, and discovered that he was just two hours behind the latest. both blushed, and looked ridiculous. he rose, however, and took his leave, asking and receiving her permission to pay another visit on the following day for the purpose of arranging their eternal "business matters." things take ugly shapes in the dark; a tree, an object of grace add beauty in the meridian sun, is a giant spectre in the gloom of night. thoughts of death are bolder and more startling on the midnight pillow than in the noonday walk. our vices, which are the pastime of the drawing-room, become the bugbears of the silent bedchamber. margaret, when she would have slept, was haunted by reproaches, which waited until then to agitate and frighten her. a sense of impropriety and sinfulness started in her bosom, and convicted her of an offence--unpardonable in her sight--against the blessed memory of mildred. she could not deny it, michael allcraft had created on her heart a favourable impression--one that must be obliterated at once and for ever, if she hoped for happiness, for spiritual repose. she had listened to his impassioned tones with real delight; had gazed upon his bright and beaming countenance, until her eyes had stolen away the image, and fixed it on her heart. not a year had elapsed since the generous mildred had been committed to the earth, and could she so soon rebel--so easily forget his princely conduct, and permit his picture to be supplanted in her breast? oh, impossible! it was a grievous fault. she acknowledged it with her warm tears, and vowed (margaret was disposed to vow--too readily on most occasions) that she would rise reproved; repentant, and faithful to her duty. yes, and the earnest creature leapt from her couch, and prayed for strength and help to resist the sore temptation; nor did she visit it again until she felt the strong assurance that her victory was gained, and her future peace secured. it is greatly to be feared that the majority of persons who make resolutions, imagine that all their work is done the instant the virtuous determination is formed. now, the fact is, that the real work is not even begun; and if exertion be suspended at the point at which it is most needed, the resolute individual is in greater danger of miscarriage than if he had not resolved at all, but had permitted things to take their own course and natural direction. i do believe that margaret received michael on the following day without deeming it in the slightest degree incumbent upon her to act upon the offensive. she established herself behind her decision and her prayers, and, relying upon such fortifications, would not permit the idea of danger. a child might have prophesied the result. michael was always at her side--margaret's departure from the cottage was postponed day after day. the youth, who in truth ardently and truly loved the gentle widow, had no joy away from her. he supplied her with books, the choice of which did credit to his refinement and good taste. sometimes she perused them alone--sometimes he read aloud to her. his own hand culled her flowers, and placed the offering on her table. he met her in her walks--he taught her botany--he sketched her favourite views--he was devoted to her, heart and soul. and _she_--but they are sitting now together after a month's acquaintance, and the reader shall judge of margaret by what he sees. it is a day for lovers. the earth is bathed in light, and southerly breezes, such as revive the dying and cheer their heavy hours with promises of amendment and recovery, temper the fire that streams from the unclouded sun. in the garden of the cottage, in a secluded part of it, there is a summer-house--call it beauty's bower--with margaret within--and honeysuckle, clematis, and the passion flower, twining and intertwining, kissing and embracing, around, above, below, on every side. there they are sitting. he reads a book--and a paragraph has touched a chord in one of the young hearts, to which the other has responded. she moves her foot unconsciously along the floor, her downcast eye as unconsciously following it. he dares to raise his look, and with a palpitating heart, observes the colour in her cheek, which tells him that the heart is vanquished, and the prize is won. he tries to read again, but eyesight fails him, and his hand is shaking like a leaf. his spirit expands, his heart grows confident and rash--he knows not what he does--he cannot be held back, though death be punishment if he goes on--he touches the soft hand, and in an instant, the drooping, almost lifeless margaret--drawn to his breast--fastens there, and sobs. she whispers to him to be gone--her clammy hand is pressing him to stay. * * * * * chapter vi. a death and a discovery. i am really inclined to believe, after all, that the best mode of finally extinguishing sorrow for a dead husband, is to listen quietly to the reasonable pleas of a live lover. after the scene to which it has been my painful task to allude in the last chapter, it would have been the very height of prudery on the part of the lady and gentleman, had they avoided speaking on the subject in which they had both become so deeply interested. they did not attempt it. the first excitement over, margaret entreated her lover to be gone. he did not move. she conjured him, as he valued her esteem, to flee from that spot, and to return to it no more. he pressed her hand to his devoted lips. "what would become of her?" she emphatically exclaimed, clasping her taper fingers in distrust and doubt. "you will be mine, dear margaret," was the wild reply, and the taper fingers easily relaxed--gave way--and got confounded with his own. after the lapse of four-and-twenty hours, reason returned to both; not the cold and calculating capacity that stands aloof from every suggestion of feeling, but that more sensible and temporizing reason, that with the _will_ goes hand-in-hand, and serves the blind one as a careful guide. they met--for they had parted suddenly, abruptly--in the summer-house, by previous appointment. michael pleaded his affection--his absorbing and devoted love. she has objections numerous--insuperable; they dwindle down to one or two, and these as weak and easily overcome as woman's melting heart itself. they meet to argue, and he stays to woo. they bandy words and arguments for hours together, but all their logic fails in proof; whilst one long, passionate, parting kiss, does more by way of demonstration than the art and science ever yet effected. abraham allcraft, who had been busily engaged behind the scenes pulling the wires and exhibiting the puppets, appeared upon the stage as soon as the first act of the performance was at an end. his son had said nothing to him, but abraham had many eyes and ears, and saw and heard enough to make him mad with villainous delight. the second year of widowhood had commenced. margaret had doffed her weeds. she openly received the man on whom she had bestowed her heart. they were betrothed. the public voice proclaimed young allcraft the luckiest of men; the public soul envied and hated him for his good fortune. abraham could never leave the presence of his future daughter--and in her presence could never cease to flatter her, and to grow disgusting in his lavish praises of his son. "when i first saw you, my dear lady," said the greedy banker, "i had but one thought on my mind that livelong day. 'what would i give,' said i, 'for such a daughter? what would i give if for my noble son i could secure so sweet a wife? i never met his equal--i say it, madam--who, being his father, should perhaps not say it; but a stranger can admire his lusty form and figure, and his mind is just as vigorous and sprightly. a rare youth, madam, i assure you--too disinterested, perhaps--too generous, too confiding--too regardless of the value of that necessary evil--money; but as he gets older he will be wiser. i do believe he would rather have died, though he loved you so much--than asked you for your hand, if he had not been thoroughly independent without it.'" "i can believe it, sir," sighed margaret. "i know you can--bless you! you were born for one another. you are a sweet pair. i know not which is prettiest--which i love the best. i love you both better than any thing in the world--that is at present; for by-and-by, you know, i may love something quite as well. grandfathers are fond and foolish creatures. but, as i was saying--his independence is so fine--so like himself. every thing i have will be his. he is my partner now--the bank will be his own at my death, madam. a prosperous concern. many of our neighbours would like to have a finger in the pie; but abraham allcraft knows what he is about. i'll not burden him with partners. he shall have it all--every thing--he is worthy of it, if it were ten tines as much--he can do as he likes--when i am cold and mouldering in the grave; but he must not owe any thing to the lady of his heart, but his attention, and his kindness, and his dear love. i know my spirited and high-minded boy." yes, and he knew human nature generally--knew its weaknesses and faults--and lived upon them. his words require but little explanation. the wedding-day had not been fixed. the ceremony once over, and his mind would be at rest. "it was a consummation devoutly to be wished." why? he knew well enough. michael had proposed the day, but she asked for time, and he refrained from further importunity. his love and delicacy forbade his giving her one moment's pain. abraham was less squeamish. his long experience told him that some good reason must exist for such a wish to dwell in the young bosom of the blooming widow. it was unnatural and foreign to young blood. it could be nothing else than the fear of parting with her wealth--of placing all at the command of one, whom, though she loved, she did not know that she might trust. satisfied of this, he resolved immediately to calm her apprehensions, and to assure her that not one farthing of her fortune should pass from her control. he spoke of his son as a man of wealth already, too proud to accept another's gold, even were he poor. perhaps he was. margaret at least believed so. abraham did not quit her till the marriage day was settled. he returned from the widow in ecstasy, and called his son to his own snug private room. "i have done it for you, michael," said the father, rubbing his grasping hands--it's done--it's settled, lad. two months' patience, and the jewel is your own. thank your father, on your knees--oh, lucky mike! but mark me, boy. i have had enough to do. my guess was right. she was afraid of us, but her fears are over. till i told her that the bank would make you rich without her, there was no relenting, i assure you. "you said so, father, did you?" asked the son. "yes--i did. remember that mike when i am dead--remember what i have done for you--put a fortune in your pocket, and given you an angel--remember that, mike, and respect my memory. don't let the world laugh at your father, and call him ugly names. you can prevent it if you like. a son is bound to assert his father's honour, living or dead, at any price." "he is, sir," answered michael. "i knew, mike, that would be your answer. you are a noble fellow--don't forget me when i am under ground; not that i mean to die yet no--no--i feel a score of years hanging about me still. i shall dandle a dozen of your young ones before these arms are withered. i shall live to see you--a peer of the realm. that money--with your talents, mike, will command a dukedom." "i am not ambitious, father." "you lie--you are, mike. you have got your father's blood in you. you would risk a great deal to be at the top of the tree; so would i. _would_ i? haven't i? we shall see, mike--we shall see. but it isn't wishing that will do it. the clearest head--the best exertions must sometimes give in to circumstances; but then, my boy, there is one comfort, those who come after us can repair our faults, and profit by our experience. that thought gives us courage, and makes us go forward. don't forget, mike, i say, what i have done for you, when you are a rich and titled man!" "i hope, father, i shall never forget my duty." "i am sure you won't, mike--and there's an end of it. let us speak of something else. now, when you are married, boy, i shall often come to see you. you'll be glad to have me, sha'n't you?" "is it necessary to ask the question?" "no, it isn't, but i am happy to-night, and i am in a humour to talk and dream. you must let me have my own room--and call it abraham's _sanctum_. a good name, eh? i will come when i like, and go when i like--eat, drink, and be merry, mike. how white with envy old varley will get, when he sees me driving to business in my boy's carriage. a pretty match he made of it--that son of his married the cook, and sent her to a boarding-school. stupid fool!" "young varley is a worthy fellow, father." "can't be--can't be--worthy fellows don't marry cooks. but don't stop me in my plans. i said you should give me my own room, mike--and so you shall--and every wednesday shall be a holiday. we'll be in the country together, and shoot and fish, and hunt, and do what every body else does. we'll be great men, mike, and we'll enjoy ourselves." and so the man went on, elevated by the circumstances of the day, and by the prospects of the future, until he became intoxicated with his pleasure. on the following morning he rose just as elated, and went to business like a boy to play. about noon, he was talking to a farmer in his quiet back room, endeavouring to drive a hard bargain with the man, whom a bad season had already rendered poor. he spoke loud and fast--until, suddenly, a spasm at the heart caught and stopped him. his eyes bolted from their sockets--the parchment skin of his face grew livid and blue. he staggered for an instant, and then dropped dead at the farmer's foot. the doctors were not wrong when they pronounced the banker's heart diseased. a week after this sudden and awful visitation, all that remained of abraham allcraft was committed to the dust, and michael discovered, to his surprise and horror, that his father had died an insolvent and a beggar. * * * * * chapter vii. the end of the beginning. abraham allcraft, with all his base and sordid habits, was a beggar. his gluttony had been too powerful for his judgment, and he had speculated beyond all computation. his first hit had been received in connexion with some extensive mines. at the outset they had promised to realize a princely fortune. all the calculations had been made with care. the most wary and experienced were eager for a share in the hoped for _el dorado_, and abraham was the greediest of any. in due time the bubble burst, carrying with it into air poor abraham's hard-earned fifty thousand pounds, and his hearty execrations. such a loss was not to be repaired by the slow-healing process of legitimate business. information reached him respecting an extensive manufactory in glasgow. capabilities of turning half a million per annum existed in the house, and were unfortunately dormant simply because the moving principle was wanting. with a comparatively moderate capital, what could not be effected? ah, what? had you listened to the sanguine manufacturer your head would have grown giddy with his magnificent proposals, as allcraft's had, to the cost of his unhappy self, and still unhappier clients. as acting is said to be not a bare servile exhibition of nature, but rather an exalted and poetic imitation of the same, so likewise are the pictures of houses, the portraits of geniuses, _the representations of business facts_, and other works of art which undertake to copy truth, but only embellish it and render it most grateful to the eye. nothing could _look_ more substantial than the glasgow manufactory on paper. a prettier painting never charmed the eye of speculating amateur. allcraft was caught. ten thousand pounds, which had been sent out to bring the fifty thousand back, never were seen again. the manufacturer decamped--the rickety house gave way, and failed. from this period allcraft entangled himself more and more in schemes for making money rapidly and by great strokes, and deeper he fell into the slough of difficulty and danger. his troubles were commencing when he heard of mildred's serious illness, and the certainty of his speedy death. with an affectionate solicitude, he mentally disposed of the splendid fortune which the sick man could not possibly take with him, and contrived a plan for making it fill up the gaps which misfortune had opened in the banking-house. this was a new speculation, and promised more than all the rest. every energy was called forth--every faculty. his plans we already know--his success has yet to be discovered. abraham did not die intestate. he left a will, bequeathing to michael, his son and heir, a rotten firm, a dishonourable name, a history of dishonesty, a nest of troubles. accompanying his will, there was a letter written in allcraft's hand to michael, imploring the young man to act a child's part by his unhappy parent. the elder one urged him by his love and gratitude to save his name from the discredit which an exposure of his affairs must entail upon it; and not only upon _it_, he added, but upon the living also. he had procured for him, he said, an alliance which he would never have aspired to--never would have obtained, had not his father laboured so hardly for his boy's happiness and welfare. with management and care, and a gift from his intended wife, nothing need be said--no exposure would take place--the house would retain its high character, and in the course of a very few years recover its solvency and prosperity. a fearful list of the engagements was appended, and an account of every transaction in which the deceased had been concerned. michael read and read again every line and word, and he stood thunderstruck at the disclosure. he raved against his father, swore he would do nothing for the man who had so shamefully involved himself; and, not content with his own ruin, had so wickedly implicated him. this was the outbreak of the excited youth, but he sobered down, and, in a few hours, the creature of impulse and impetuosity had argued himself into the expediency of adapting his conduct to existing circumstances--of stooping, in short, to all the selfishness and meanness that actuate the most unfeeling and the least uncalculating of mortals. if there were wanting, as, thank heaven, there is not, one proof to substantiate the fact, that no rule of life is safe and certain save that made known in the translucent precepts of our god--no species of thought free from hurt or danger--no action secure from ill or mischief, except all thoughts and actions that have their origin in humble, loving, _strict_ obedience to the pleasure and the will of heaven; if any one proof, i say, were wanting, it would be easy to discover it in the natural perverse and inconsistent heart of man. a voice louder than the preacher's--the voice of daily, hourly experience--proclaims the melancholy fact, that no amount of high-wrought feeling, no loftiness of speech, no intensity of expression, is a guarantee for purity of soul and conduct, when obedience, simple, childlike obedience, has ceased to be the spring of every motion and every aim. reader, let us grapple with this truth! we are servants here on earth, not masters! subjects, and not legislators! infants are we all in the arms of a just father! the command is from elsewhere--_obedience_ is with us. if you would be happy, i charge you, fling away the hope of finding security or rest in laws of your own making in a system which you are pleased to call a code of _honour_--honour that grows cowardlike and pale in the time of trial--that shrinks in the path of duty--that slinks away unarmed and powerless, when it should be nerved and ready for the righteous battle. where are the generous sentiments--the splendid outbursts--the fervid eloquence with which michael allcraft was wont to greet the recital of any one short history of oppression and dishonesty? where are they now, in the first moments of real danger, whilst his own soul is busy with designs as base as they are cowardly? nothing is easier for a loquacious person than to talk. how glibly michael could declaim against mankind before the fascinating margaret, we have seen; how feelingly against the degenerate spirit of commerce, and the back-slidings of all professors of religion. surely, he who saw and so well depicted the vices of the age, was prepared for adversity and its temptations! not he, nor any man who prefers to be the slave of impulse rather than the child of reason. after a day's deliberation, he had resolved upon two things--first, not to expose himself to the pity or derision of men, as it might chance to be, by proclaiming the insolvency of his deceased father and secondly, not to risk the loss of margaret, by acknowledging himself to be a beggar. his father had told him--he remembered the words well that she was induced to name the wedding-day, only upon receiving the assurance of his independence. not to undeceive her now, would be to wed her under false pretences; but to free her from deception, would be to free her from her plighted word, and this his sense of honour would not let him do. i will not say that michael grossly and unfeelingly proposed to circumvent--to cheat and rob the luckless margaret; or that his conscience, that mighty law unto itself, did not wince before it held its peace. there were strugglings and entreaties, and patchings up, and excuses, and all the appliances which precede the commission of a sinful act. reasons for honesty and disinterestedness were converted for the occasion into justifications of falsehood and artifice. a paltry regard for himself and his own interests was bribed to take the shape of filial duty and affection. the result of all his cogitation and contrivances was one great plan. he would not take from his margaret's fortune. no, under existing circumstances it would be wrong, unpardonable; but at the same time he was bound to protect his father's reputation. the engagement with the widow must go on. he could not yield the prize; life without her would not be worth the having. what was to be done, then? why, to wed, and to secure the maintenance of the firm by means which were at his command. once married to the opulent mrs mildred, and nothing would be easier than to obtain men of the first consideration in the county to take a share of his responsibilities. twenty, whom he could name, would jump at the opportunity and the offer. the house stood already high in the opinion of the world. what would it be with the superadded wealth of the magnificent widow? the private debts of his father were a secret. his parsimonious habits had left upon the minds of people a vague and shadowy notion of surpassing riches; had he not been rich beyond men's calculation, he would not have ventured to live so meanly. michael derived support from the general belief, and resolved most secularly to take a full advantage of it. if he could but procure one or two monied men as partners in the house, the thing was settled. matters would be snug--the property secured. the business must increase. the profits would enable him in time to pay off his father's liabilities, and if, in the meanwhile, it should be deemed expedient to borrow from his wife, he might do so safely, satisfied that he could repay the loan, at length, with interest. such was the outline of michael allcraft's scheme. his spirit was quiet as soon as it was concocted, and he reposed upon it for a season as tired men sleep soundly on a bed of straw. whilst the bridegroom was distressed with his peculiar grievances, the lovely bride was doomed to submit to annoyances scarcely less painful. her late husband's friend, doctor wilford, who had been abroad for many months, suddenly returned home, and, in fulfilment of mildred's dying wish, repaired without delay to the residence of his widow. wilford had seen a great deal of the world. he did not expect to find the bereaved one inconsolable, but he was certainly staggered to behold her busy in preparations for a second marriage. indignant at what he conceived to be an affront upon the memory of his friend, he argued and remonstrated against her indecent haste, and besought her to postpone the unseemly union. roused by all he saw, the faithful friend spoke warmly on the deceased's behalf, and painted in the strongest colours he could employ, the enormity of her transgression. now margaret loved michael as she had never loved before. slander could not open its lying lips to speak one word against the esteem and gratitude she had ever entertained for mildred but esteem and gratitude--i appeal to the best, the most virtuous and moral of my readers--cannot put out the fire that nature kindles in the adoring heart of woman. her error was not that she loved michael more, but that she had loved mildred less. ambition, if it usurp the rights of love, must look for all the punishment that love inflicts. sooner or later it must come. "who are you?" enquires the little god of the greater god, ambition, "that you should march into my realms, and create rebellion there? wait but a little." short was the interval between ambition's crime and love's revenge with our poor margaret. wilford might never know how cruelly his bitter words wrung her smitten soul. she did not answer him. paler she grew with every reproach--deeper was the self-conviction with every angry syllable. she wept until he left her, and then she wrote to michael. as matters stood, and with their present understanding--he was perhaps her best adviser. wilford called to see her on the following day--but margaret's door was shut against him, and she beheld her husband's friend no more. and the blissful day came on--slowly, at last, to the happy lovers--for happy they were in each other's sight, and in their passionate attachment. and the blissful day arrived. michael led her to the altar. a hundred curious eyes looked on, admired, and praised, and envied. he might be proud of his possession, were she unendowed with any thing but that incomparable, unfading loveliness. and he, with his young and vigorous form, was he not made for that rare plant to clasp and hang upon? "heaven bless them both!" so said the multitude, and so say i, although i scarce can hope it; for who shall dare to think that heaven will grant its benediction on a compact steeped in earthliness, and formed without one heavenward view! * * * * * the wrongs of women. i knew, my dear eusebius, how delighted you would be with that paper in maga on "woman's rights." it was balm to your quixotic spirit. though your limbs are a little rheumatic, and you do not so often as you were wont, when your hair was black as raven's wing, raise your hands to take down the armour that you have long since hung up, you know and feel with pride that it has been charmed by due night-watchings, and will yet serve many a good turn, should occasion require your service for woman in danger. then, indeed, would you buckle on in defence of all or any that ever did, or did not, "buckle to." then would come a happy cure to aching bones--made whole with honourable bruises, oblivious of pain, the "_bruchia livida_," lithesome and triumphant. your devotion to the sex has been seasoned under burning sun and winter frost, and has yet vital heat against icy age, come on fast as it will. you would not chill, eusebius, though you were hours under a pump in a november night, and lusty arms at work watering your tender passion. i know you. rebecca and her daughters had a good word, a soft word from you, till you found out their beards. no mercy with them after that with you--the cowardly disguise--pike for pike was the cry. it was laughable to see you, and to hear you, as you brought a battery that could never reach them--fired upon them the reproach of diogenes to an effeminate--"if he was offended with nature for making him a man, and not a woman;" and the affirmation of the pedasians, from your friend herodotus, that, whenever any calamity befell them, a prodigious beard grew on the chin of the priestess of minerva. you ever thought a man in woman's disguise a profanation--a woman in man's a horror. the fair sex were never, in your eyes, the weaker and the worse; how oft have you delighted in their outward grace and moral purity, contrasting them with gross man, gloriously turning the argument in their favour by your new emphasis--"give every _man_ his deserts, and who shall escape whipping"--satisfying yourself, and every one else, that good, true, woman-loving shakspeare must have meant the passage so to be read. and do you remember a whole afternoon maintaining, that the well-known song of "billy taylor" was a serious, true, good, epic poem, in eulogy of the exploits of a glorious woman, and in no way ridiculous to those whose language it spoke; and when we all gave it against you, how you turned round upon the poor author, and said he ought to have the bastinado at the soles of his feet? and if an occasional disappointment, a small delinquency in some feminine character did now and then happen, and a little sly satire would force its way, quietly too, out of the sides of your mouth, how happily would you instantly disown it, fling it from you as a thing not yours, then catch at it, and sport with it as if you could afford to sport with it, and thereby show it was no serious truth, and pass it off with the passage from dryden-- "madam, these words are chanticleer's, not mine; i honour dames, and think their sex divine!" no human being ever collected so many of the good sayings and doings of women as you, eusebius. i am not, then, surprised that, having read the "rights of women," you are come to the determination to take up "the wrongs of women." the wrongs of women, alas! ----"adeo sunt multa loquacem delassare valent fabium." and so you write to me, to supply you with some sketches from nature, instances of the "wrongs of woman." ah me! does not this earth teem with them--the autumnal winds moan with them? the miseries want a good hurricane to sweep them off the land, and the dwellings the "foul fiend" hath contaminated. man's doing, and woman's suffering, and thence even arises the beauty of loveliness--woman's patience. in the very palpable darkness besetting the ways of domestic life, woman's virtue walks forth loveliest-- "virtue gives herself light, through darkness for to wade." the gentle spenser, did he not love woman's virtue, and weep for her wrongs? you, eusebius, were wont ever to quote his tender lament:-- "naught is there under heaven's wide hollowness that moves more clear compassion of mind than beauty brought to unworthy wretchedness by envy's frowns or fortune's freaks unkind. i, whether lately through her brightness blind, or through allegiance and fast fealty, which _i do owe unto all womankind_, feel my heart pierced with so great agony, when such i see, that all for pity i could die." this melting mood will not long suit your mercurial spirit. you used to say that the fairies were all, in common belief, creatures feminine, hence deservedly called "good people,"--that they made the country merry, and kept clowns in awe, and were better for the people's morals than a justice of the peace. they tamed the savage, and made him yield, and bow before feminine feet. sweet were they that hallowed the brown hills, and left tokens of their visits, blessing all seasons to the rustic's ear, whispering therein softly at nightfall-- "go, take a wife unto thy arms, and see winter and brownie-hills shall have a charm for thee." such was your talk, eusebius, passing off your discontent of things that are, into your inward ideal, rejoicing in things unreal, breaking out into your wildest paradox--"what is the world the better for all its boasted truth! it has belied man's better nature. faith, trust, belief, is the better part of him, the spiritual of man; and who shall dare to say that its creations, visible, or invisible, all felt, acknowledged as vital things, are not realities?" all this--in your contempt for beadles and tip-staves, even overseers and churchwardens, and all subdividing machinery of country government, that, when it came in and fairly established itself, drove away the "good people," and with them merriment and love, and sweet fear, from off the earth--that twenty wheedling, flattering autolycuses did not do half the hurt to morals or manners that one grim-visaged justice did--the curmudgeon, you called him, eusebius, that would, were they now on earth, and sleeping all lovely with their pearly arms together, locked in leafy bower, have cupid and psychè taken up under the vagrant act, or have them lodged in a "union house" to be disunited. you thought the superstition of the world as it was, far above the knowledge it now brags of. you admired the saxons and danes in their veneration of the predictions of old women, whom the after ungallantry of a hard age would have burned for witches. marriage act and poor act have, as you believe, extinguished the holy light of hymen's torch, and re-lighted it with lucifer matches in register offices; and out it soon goes, leaving worse than egyptian darkness in the dwellings of the poor--the smell of its brimstone indicative of its origin, and ominous of its ending. i verily believe, eusebius, you would have spared don quixote's whole library, and have preferred committing the curate to the flames. your dreams, even your day-dreams, have hurried you ever far off and away from the beaten turnpike-road of life, through forests of enchantment, to rescue beauty which you never saw, from knight-begirt and dragon-guarded castles; and little thankful have you been when you have opened your eyes awake in peace to the cold light of our misnamed utilitarian day, and found all your enchantment broken, the knights discomfited, the dragon killed, the drawbridge broken down, and the ladies free--all without your help; and then, when you have gone forth, and in lieu of some rescued paragon of her sex, you have met but the squire's daughter, in her trim bonnet, tripping with her trumpery to set up her fancy-shop in vanity-fair, for fops to stare at through their glasses, your imagination has felt the shock, and incredulous of the improvement in manners and morals, and overlooking all advancement of knowledge, all the advantages of their real liberty, momentarily have you wished them all shut up in castles, or in nunneries, to be the more adored till they may chance to be rescued. but soon would the fit go off--and the first sweet, innocent, lovely smile that greeted you, restored your gentleness, and added to your stock of love. and once, when some parish shame was talked of, you never would believe it common, and blamed the overseer for bringing it to light--and vindicated the sex by quoting from pennant, how st werberg lived immaculate with her husband astardus, copying her aunt, the great ethelreda, who lived for three years with not less purity with her good man tonberetus, and for twelve with her second husband the pious prince egfrid: and the churchwarden left the vestry, lifting up his hands, and saying--"poor gentleman!"--and you laughed as if you had never laughed before, when you heard it, and heartily shook him by the hand to convince him you were in your senses; which action he nevertheless put to the credit of the soundness of your heart, and not a bit to that of your head. you saw it--and immediately, with a trifling flaw in the application quite worthy yourself, reminded me of a passage in a letter from lord bolingbroke to swift, that "the truest reflection, and at the same time the bitterest satire, which can be made on the present age, is this, that to think as you think, will make a man pass for romantic. sincerity, constancy, tenderness, are rarely to be found. they are so much out of use, that the man of mode imagines them to be out of nature." so insane and romantic, you added, are synonymous terms to this incredulous, this matter-of-fact world, that, like the unbelieving thomas, trusts in, believes in nothing that it does not touch and handle. your partiality for days of chivalry blinds you a little. the men were splendid--women shone with their reflected splendour--you see them through an illuminated haze, and, as you were not behind the curtain, imagine their minds as cultivated as their beauty was believed to be great. the mantle of chivalry hid all the wrongs, but the particular ones from which they rescued them. if the men are worse, our women are far better--more like those noble roman ladies, intellectual and high-minded, whom you have ever esteemed the worthiest of history. then women were valued. valerius maximus gives the reason why women had the upper-hand. after the mother of coriolanus and other roman women had preserved their country, how could the senate reward them?--"sanxit uti foeminis semitâ viri cederent--permisit quoque his purpureâ veste et aureis uti segmentis." it was sanctioned by the senate, you perceive, that men should yield the wall to the sex, in honour, and that they should be allowed the distinction of purple vests and golden borders--privileges the female world still enjoy. yet in times you love to applaud, the paltry interference of men would have curtailed one of these privileges. for a mandate was issued by the papal legate in germany in the th century, decreeing, that "the apparel of women, which ought to be consistent with modesty, but now, through their foolishness, is degenerated into wantonness and extravagance, more particularly the immoderate length of their petticoats, with which they sweep the ground, be restrained to a moderate fashion, agreeably to the decency of the sex, under pain of the sentence of excommunication." "velamina etiam mulierum, quæ ad verecundiam designandam eis sunt concessa, sed nunc, per insipientiam earum, in lasciviam et luxuriam excreverunt, it immoderata longitudo superpelliccorum quibus pulverem trahunt, ad moderatum usum, sicut decet verecundiam sexus, per excommunicationis sententiam cohibeantur." excommunication, indeed! not even the church could have carried on that war long. every word of this marks the degradation to which those monkish times would have made the sex submit, "velamina _concessa_ insipientiam earum!" and pretty well for men of the cloth of that day's make, to speak of women's "lasciviam et luxuriam," when, perhaps, the hypocritical mandate arose from nothing but a desire in the coelibatists themselves to get a sly peep at the neatly turned feet and ankles of the women. one would almost think the old nursery song of --"the beggar whose name was stout, he cut her petticoats all round about, he cut her petticoats far above her knee, &c.," was written to perpetuate the mandate. certainly a "stout beggar was the papal church." "consistent with modesty," "sicut decet verecundiam sexus;" nothing can beat that bare-faced hypocrisy. so when afterwards the sex shortened their petticoats, other simon pures start up and put them in the stocks for immodesty. poor women! here was a wrong, eusebius. long or short, they were equally immodest. immodest, indeed! nature has clad them with modesty and temperance--their natural habit--other garment is conventional. i admire what oelian says of phocion's wife. "[greek: Ã�mpeicheto de prôtê tê sôphrosunê, deuterois ge mên tois parousi.]" "she first arrayed herself in temperance, and then put on what was necessary." every seed of beauty is sown by modesty. it is woman's glory, "[greek: hê gar aidôs anthos epispeirei]" says clearchus in his first book of erotics, quoting from lycophronides. the appointment of magistrates at athens, [greek: gunaikokosmoi], to regulate the dress of women, was a great infringement on their rights--the origin of men-milliners. you are one, eusebius, who "had rather hear the tedious tales of hollingshed, than any thing that trenches on love." i remember how, in contempt of the story of the ephesian matron, you had your petronius interleaved, and filled it with anecdotes of noble virtue, till the comment far exceeded the text--then, finding your excellent women in but bad company, you tore out the text of petronius, and committed it to the flames. preserve your precious catalogue of female worthies--often have you lamented that of hesiod was lost, of all the [greek: hoiai megalai] alcmena alone remaining, and you will not make much boast of her. how far back would you go for the wrongs of women--do you intend to write a library--a library in a series of novels in three volumes--what are all that are published but "wrongs of women?" could but the lion have written! books have been written by men, and be sure they have spared themselves--and yet what a catalogue of wrongs we have from the earliest date! even the capture of helen was not with her consent; and how lovely she is! and how indicative is that wondrous history of a high chivalrous spirit and admiration of woman in those days! old priam and all his aged council pay her reverence. menelaus is the only one of the grecian heroes that had no other wife or mistress--here was devotion and constancy! andromache has been, and ever will be, the pride of the world. yet the less refined dramatist has told of her wrongs; for he puts into her mouth a dutiful acquiescence in the gallantries of hector. little can be said for the men. poor old priam we must pardon, if hecuba could and did; for priam told her that he had nineteen children by her, and many others by the concubines in his palace. he had enough, too, upon his hands--yet found time for all things--"[greek: hôrê eran, hôrê de gamein, hôrê de pepausthai]." how lovely is penelope, and how great her wrongs!--and the lovely nausicaa complains of scandal. but great must have been the deference paid to women; for nausicaa plainly tells ulysses, that her mother is every thing and every body. people have drawn a very absurd inference to the contrary, from the fact of the princess washing the clothes. that operation may have been as fashionable then as worsted work now, and clothes then were not what clothes are now--there were no manchesters, and those things were rare and precious, handed down to generations, and given as presents of honour. you have shed tears over the beautiful, noble-hearted iphigenia--wronged even to death. glorious was the age that could find an alcestis to suffer her great wrong! such women honour human nature, and make man himself better. oh, how infinitely less selfish are they than we are--confiding, trusting--with a fortitude for every sacrifice! we have no trust like theirs, no confidence--are jealous, suspicious, even on the wedding-day. you quite roared with delight when you heard of a fool, who, mistrusting himself and his bride, tried his fortune after the fashion of the sortes virgilianæ, by dipping into shakspeare on his wedding-day and finding "not poppy nor mandragora, nor all the drowsy syrups of the east, shall ever med'cine to thee that sweet sleep which thou ow'dst yesterday." you have rather puzzled me, eusebius, by giving me so wide a field of enquiry--woman's wrongs; of what kind--of ancient or modern times--general or particular? you should have arranged your objects. it is you that are going to write this "family library," not i. for my own part, i should have been contented in walking into the next village, an unexpected guest, to the houses of rich and poor--do you think you would have wanted materials? but forewarned is forearmed--and few will "tell the secrets of their prison-house," if you take them with a purpose. on your account, in this matter, i have written to six ladies of my acquaintance, three married and three single. two of the married have replied that they have nothing to complain of--not a wrong. the third bids me ask her husband. so i put her down as ambiguous--perhaps she wishes to give him a hint through me; i am wise, and shall hold my tongue. of the unmarried, one says she has received no wrong, but fears she may have inflicted some--another, that as she is going to be married on monday, she cannot conceive a wrong, and cannot possibly reply till after the honeymoon. the third replies, that it is _very wrong_ in me to ask her. but stay a moment--here is a quarrel going on--two women and a man--we may pick up something. "rat thee, jahn," says a stout jade, with her arm out and her fist almost in jahn's face, "i wish i were a man--i'd gie it to thee!" she evidently thinks it a wrong that she was born a woman--and upon my word, by that brawny arm, and those masculine features, there does appear to have been a mistake in it. if you go to books--i know your learning--you will revert to your favourite classical authorities. helen of troy calls herself by a sad name, "[greek: kuôn hôs eimi]," dog (feminine) as i am--her wrongs must, therefore, go to no account. i know but of one who really takes it in hand to catalogue them, and she is medea. "we women," says she, "are the most wretched of living creatures." for first--of women--she must buy her husband, pay for him with all she has--secondly, when she has bought him, she has bought a master, one to lord it over her very person--thirdly, the danger of buying a bad one--fourthly, that divorce is not creditable--fifthly, that she ought to be a prophetess, and is not to know what sort of a man he is to whose house she is to go, where all is strange to her--sixthly, that if she does not like her home, she must not leave it, nor look out for sympathising friends--seventhly, that she must have the pains and troubles of bearing children--eighthly, she gives up country, home, parents, friends, for one husband--and perhaps a bad one. so much for medea and her list; had she lived in modern times it might have been longer; but she was of too bold a spirit to enter into minutiæ. hers, too, are the wrongs of married life. nor on this point the wise son of sophroniscus makes the man the sufferer. "neither," he says, "can he who marries a wife tell if he shall have cause to rejoice thereat." he had most probably at that moment xantippe in his eye. you remember how pleasantly addison, in the _spectator_, tells the story of a colony of women, who, disgusted with their wrongs, had separated themselves from the men, and set up a government of their own. that there was a fierce war between them and the men--that there was a truce to bury the dead on either side--that the prudent male general contrived that the truce should be prolonged; and during the truce both armies had friendly intercourse--on some pretence or other the truce was still lengthened, till there was not one woman in a condition, or with an inclination, to take up her wrongs--not one woman was any longer a fighting man--they saw their errors--they did not, as the fable says we all do, cast the burden of their own faults behind them, but bravely carried them before them--made peace, and were righted. we would not, eusebius, have all their wrongs righted--so lovely is the moral beauty of their wonderful patience in enduring them. what--if they were in a condition to legislate and impose upon us some of their burdens, or divide them with us? what man of your acquaintance could turn dry-nurse--tend even his own babes twelve hours out of the twenty-four? a pretty head-nurse would my eusebius make in an orphan asylum. i should like to see you with twins in your arms, both crying into your sensitive ears, and you utterly ignorant of their wants and language. and i do think your condition will be almost as bad, if you publish your catalogue of wrongs in your own name. by all means preserve an incognito. you will be besieged with wrongs--will be the only "defender of the faithful"--not knight-_errant_, for you may stay at home, and all will come to you for redress. you will be like the author, or rather translator, of the arabian tales, whose window was nightly assailed, and slumber broken in upon, by successive troops of children, crying "monsieur galland if you are not asleep, get up--come and tell us one of those pretty stories." keep your secret. now, the mention of the arabian tales reminds me of sinbad--_there_ is a true picture of man's cowardice; what loathsome holes did he not creep into to make his escape when the wife of his bosom was sick, and he understood the law that he was to be buried with her. it is all very well, in the sick chamber, for the husband to say to his departing partner for life--"wait, my dearest--i will go with you." she is sure, as la fontaine says in his satire, reversing the case, "to take the journey alone." this is all talk on the man's side--but see what the master of the slave woman has actually imposed upon her as a law. the hindoo widow ascends the funeral pile, and is burnt rejoicing. what male creature ever thought of enduring this for his wife?--this wrong, for it is a grievous wrong thus to tempt her superior fortitude. it was not without reason that, in the heathen mythology, (and it shows the great advancement of civilization when and wherever it was conceived,) were deified all great and noble qualities in the image of the sex. what are juno, minerva, and venus, but acknowledgments of the strength, wisdom, fortitude, beauty, and love, of woman, while their male deities have but borrowed attributes and ambiguous characters? it is a deference--perhaps unintentionally, unconsciously--paid to the sex, that in every language the soul itself, and all its noblest virtues, and the personification of all virtue, are feminine. i supposed woman the legislatrix--what reason have we to say she would enact a wrong? the story of the mother of papirius is not against her; for in that case there was only a choice of evils. it is from aulus gellius, as having been told and written by m. cato in the oration which he made to the soldiers against galba. the mother of young papirius, who had accompanied his father into the senate-house, as was usual formerly for sons to do who had taken the _toga prætexta_, enquired of her son what the senate had been doing; the youth replied, that he had been enjoined silence. this answer made her the more importunate and he adopted this humorous fallacy--that it had been discussed in the senate which would be most beneficial to the state, for one man to have two wives, or for one woman to have two husbands? hearing this, she left the house in no small trepidation, and went to tell other matrons what she had heard. the next day a troop of matrons went to the senate-house, and implored, with tears in their eyes, that one woman might be suffered to have two husbands, rather than one man have two wives. the senate honoured the young papirius with a special law in his favour; they should rather have conferred honour upon his mother and the other matrons for their disinterested virtue, who were content to submit themselves to so great an evil, i may say _wrong_, as to have imposed upon them two masters instead of one. not that you, eusebius, ever entertained an idea that women are wronged by not being admitted to a share of legislation. i will not suppose you to be that liberal fool. but you are aware that such a scheme has been, and is still entertained. i believe there is a miss somebody now going about our towns, lecturing on the subject, and she is probably worthy to be one of the company of the "ecclesiagusæ." this idea is not new. the other day i hit upon a letter in the _gentleman's magazine_ for the year on the subject, by which you will see there was some amusement about it a century ago:-- "to caleb d'anvers, esq. "sir,--i am a mournful relict of _five husbands_, and the happy mother of _twenty-seven_ children, the tender pledges of our chaste embraces. had _old rome_, instead of _england_, been the place of my nativity and abode, what honours might i not have expected to my person, and immunities to my fortune? but i need not tell you that virtue of this sort meets with no encouragement in our northern climate. _children_, instead of freeing us from _taxes_ increase the weight of them, and matrimony is become the jest of every coxcomb. nor could i allow, till very lately, that an old bachelor, as you profess yourself to be, had any just pretence to be called a patriot. don't think that i mean to offer myself to you; for i assure you that i have refused very advantageous proposals since the decease of my _last poor spouse_, who hath been dead near _five months_. i have no design at present of altering my condition again. few women are so happy as to meet with _five good husbands_, and therefore i should be glad to devote the remaining part of my life to the good of my country and family, in a more public and active station than that of a _wife_, according to your late scheme for _a septennial administration of women_. but i think you ought to have enforced your project with some instances of _illustrious females_, who have appeared in the foremost classes of life, not only for heroic valour, but likewise for several branches of learning, wisdom, and policy--such as _joan of naples_, the _maid of orleans, catherine de medicis, margaret of mountfort, madame dacier, mrs behn, mrs manly, mrs stephens_, doctor of physic, _mrs mapp_, surgeon, the valiant _mrs ross_, dragoon, and the learned _mrs osborne_, politician. i had almost forgot the present queen of _spain_, who hath not only an absolute ascendant over the counsels of her _husband_, but hath often outwitted the _greatest statesmen_, as they fancy themselves, of _another kingdom_, which hath already felt the effects of her _petticoat government_. "if we look back into history, a thousand more instances might be brought of the same kind; but i think those already mentioned sufficient to prove, that the best capacities of _our sex_ are by no means inferior to the best capacities _of yours_; and the triflers of _either sex_ are not designed to be the subject of this letter. but much as _our sex_ are obliged to you, in general, for your proposal, i have one material objection against it; for i think you have carried the point a little too far, by excluding _all males_ from the enjoyment of any office, dignity, or employment; for as they have long engrossed the public administration of the government to themselves, (a few women only excepted,) i am apprehensive that they will be loth to part with it, and that if they give us power for _seven years_, it will be very difficult to get it out of our hands again. i have, therefore, thought of the following expedient, which will almost answer the same purpose--viz. that all power, both _legislative and executive, ecclesiastical and civil_, may be divided among _both sexes_; and that they may be equally capable of sitting in parliament. is it not absurd that _women_ in _england_ should be capable of inheriting _the crown_, and yet not intrusted with the representation of a _little borough_, or so much as allowed to vote for a representative? is this consistent with the rights of a _people_, which certainly includes both _men and women_, though the latter have been generally deprived of their privileges in all countries? i don't mean that the people should be obliged to choose _women_ only, as i said before, for that would be equally hard upon the _men_--but that the _electors_ should be left at their own liberty; for it is certainly a restraint upon the _freedom of elections_, that whatever regard a _corporation_ may have for a _man of quality's family_, if he happened to have no _sons_ or _brothers_, they cannot testify their esteem for it by choosing his _daughters_ or _sisters_. i am for no restraint upon the _members of either sex_; for if the honour, integrity, or great capacity of a _fine lady_ should recommend her to the intimacy or confidence of a _prime minister_, in consequence of which he should get her a _place_--would it not be very hard that this very act of mutual friendship must render her incapable of doing either _him_ or _her country_ any real service in the _senate-house_? is _freedom_ consistent with _restraint_? or can we propose to serve our country by obstructing the natural operations of _love and gratitude_? i would not be understood to propose increasing the number of members. let every county or corporation choose _a man or a woman_, as they think proper; and if either of the members should be married, let it be in the power of the _constituents_ to return both _husband and wife as one member_, but not to sit at the same time; from whence would accrue great strength to our constitution, by having the _house_ well attended, without the present disagreeable method of _frequent calls_, and putting several _members_ to the expense and disgrace of being brought up to town in the custody of _messengers_; for if a _country gentleman_ should like _fox-hunting_, or any other _rural diversion_, better than attending his _duty in parliament_, let him send up his _wife_. or if an _officer in the army_ should be obliged to be at his post in _ireland_, the _mediterranean_, the _west indies_, or aboard the _fleet_, a thousand leagues off, or upon any _public embassy_, if his _wife_ should happen to be chosen, never fear that she would do the _nation's business_, full as well. besides, in several affairs of great consequence, the resolutions might perhaps be much more agreeable to the tenderness of _our sex_ than the roughness of _yours_. as, for instance, it hath often been thought unnatural for _soldiers_ to promote _peace_. when a debate, therefore, of that sort should be to come on, if the _soldiers_ staid at home, and their _wives_ attended, it would very well become the softness of _the female sex_ to show a regard for their _husbands_; especially if they should be such _pretty, smart, young fellows_, as make a most considerable figure at a review." the lady writer goes on at some length, that she has a borough of her own, and will be certainly returned whether she marries or not, and will act with inflexible zeal, naïvely adding--"if, therefore, i should hereafter be put into a _considerable employment_, and _fourteen of my sons_ be advanced in the _army_; should _the ministry_ provide for the _other seven_ in the _church_, _excise office_, or _exchequer_; and my poor _girls_, who are but tender infants at the boarding-school, should have places given to them in the _customs_, which they might officiate by _deputy_--don't imagine that i am under any _undue influence_ if i should happen always to vote with the _ministry_." we do not quote further. the letter is signed "margery weldone." it is needless to tell you the wrong done to the sex by the rigour of modern law. you have stamped the foot at it often enough. i mean, not so much the separation in the whimsically-called _union_ houses, for, as husbands go, they may have little to complain of on that score; but that dire injustice which throws upon woman the whole penalty of a mutual crime, of which the instigator is always man. then, is she not injured by the legislative removal of the sanctity of marriage, by which the man is less bound to her--thinks less of the bond--the _vinculum matrimoniæ_ being, in his mind, one of straw, to her one of iron. and here, eusebius, a difficulty presents itself which i do not remember ever to have seen met, no, nor even noticed. how can a court _ecclesiastical_, which from its very constitution and formula of marriage which it receives and sanctions--that marriage is a divine institution, that man shall not put asunder those by this matrimony made one--i ask, how can such a court deal with cases where the people have not been put together by the only bond of matrimony which the church can allow? but these are painful subjects, and i feel myself wading in deeper water than will be good for one who can't swim without corks, though he be _levior cortice_; and lighter than cork, too, will be the obligation on the man's side, who has taken trusting woman to one of these registry houses, leaped over a broomstick and called it a marriage. it will soon come to the truth of the old saying, "the first month is the honeymoon or smick-smack, the second is hither and thither; the third is thwick-thwack; the fourth, the devil take them that brought thee and i together." "love, light as air, at sight of _human_ ties, spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies." the great walking monster that does the great wrong to women is, depend upon it, eusebius, the "brute of a husband," called, by courtesy, in higher life, "_sir_ john brute." horace says wittily, that venus puts together discordant persons and minds with a bitter joke, "sævo mittere cum joco;" it begins a jest, and ends a _crying_ evil. we name the thing that should be good, with an ambiguous sound that gives disagreement to the sense. it is marry-age, or matter o' money. and let any man who is a euphonist, and takes omens from names, attend the publication of banns, he will be quite shocked at the unharmonious combination. now, you will laugh when i tell you positively, that within a twelvemonth i have heard called the banns of "john smasher and mary smallbones;" no doubt, by this time they are "marrow bones and cleaver," what else could be expected? did you never note how it has puzzled curates to read the ill-assorted names? "serpentes avibus geminantur, tigribus agni." then to look at the couples as they come to be bound for life. one would think they had been shaken together hap-hazard, each in a sack. i have met with a quotation from hermippus who says--"there was at lacedæmon a very retired hall or dwelling, in which the unmarried girls and young bachelors were confined, till each of the latter, in that obscurity which precluded the possibility of choice, fixed on one, which he was obliged to take as a wife, without portion. lysander having abandoned that which fell to his lot, to marry another of greater beauty, was condemned to pay a heavy fine." is there not in the _spectator_ a story or dream, where every man is obliged to choose a wife unseen, tied up in a sack? at this said lacedæmon, by the by, women seem to have somewhat ruled the roast, and taken the law, at least before marriage, into their own hands; for clearchus solensis, in his adages, reports, that "at lacedæmon, on a certain festival, the women dragged the unmarried men about the altar, and beat them with their hands, in order that a sense of shame at the indignity of this injury might excite in them a desire to have children of their own to educate, and to choose wives at a proper season for this purpose." mr stephens, in his _travels in yucatan_, shows how wives are taken and treated in the new world. "when the indian grows up to manhood, he requires a woman to make him tortillas, and to provide him warm water for his bath at night. he procures one sometimes by the providence of the master, without much regard to similarity of tastes or parity of age; and though a young man is mated to an old woman, they live comfortably together. if he finds her guilty of any great offence, he brings her up before the master or the alcalde, gets her a whipping, and then takes her under his arm, and goes quietly home with her." this "whipping" the unromantic author considers not at all derogatory to the character of a kind husband, for he adds--"the indian husband is rarely harsh to his wife, and the devotion of the wife to her husband is always a subject of remark." some have made it a grave question whether marriages should not be made by the magistrate, and be proclaimed by the town-crier. to imagine which is a wrong and tyranny, and arises from the barbarous custom that no woman shall be the first to tell her mind in matters of affection. men have set aside the privilege of leap year; it is as great a nickname as the church's "convocation." we tie her tongue upon the first subject on which she would speak, then impudently call woman a babbler. there is no end, eusebius, to the _wrongs_ our tongues do the sex. we take up all old, and invent new, proverbs against them. ungenerous as we are, we learn other languages out of spite, as it were, to abuse them with, and cry out, "one tongue is enough for a woman." we _rate_ them for every thing and at nothing--thus: "he that loseth his wife and a farthing, hath a great loss of his farthing." there's not a natural evil but we contrive to couple them with it. "wedding and ill-wintering tame both man and beast." i heard a witty invention the other day--it was by a lady, and a wife, and perhaps in her pride. it was asked whence came the saying, that "march comes in like a lion, and goes out like a lamb." "because," said she, "he meets with lady day, and gets his quietus." whatever we say against them, however, lacks the great essential--truth, and that is why we go on saying, thinking we shall come to it at last. we show more malice than matter. birds ever peck at the fairest fruit; nay, cast it to the ground, and a man picks it up, tastes it, and says how good is it. he enjoys all good in a good wife, and yet too often complains. he rides a fast mare home to a smiling wife, pats them both in his delight, and calls them both jades--he unbridles the one, and bridles the other. there is no end to it; when one begins with the injustice we do the sex, we may go on for ever, and stick our rhapsodies together "with a hot needle, and a burnt thread," and no good will come of it. it is envy, jealousy--we don't like to see them so much better than ourselves. we dare not tell them what we really think of them, lest they should think less of us. so we speak with a disguise. sir walter scott forgot himself when he spoke of them:-- "oh woman, in our hours of ease, uncertain, coy, and hard to please;" as if they were stormy peterals, whose appearance indicated shipwreck and troubled waters on the sea of life. woman's bard, and such he deserves to be entitled, should only have thought of her as the "fair and gentle maid," or the "pleasing wife," _placens uxor_--the perfectness of man's nature, by whom he is united to goodness, gentleness, the two, man and woman united, making the complete one--as "_mulier est hominis confusio_"--malevolent would he be that would mistranslate it "man's confusion," for-- "madam, the meaning of this latin is, that womankind to man is sovereign bliss."--_dryden_. by this "mystical union," man is made "paterfamilias," that name of truest dignity. see him in that best position, in the old monuments of james's time, kneeling with his spouse opposite at the same table, with their seven sons and seven daughters, sons behind the father, and daughters behind the mother. it is worth looking a day or two beyond the turmoil or even joys of our life, and to contemplate in the mind's eye, one's own _post mortem_ and monumental honour. such a sight, with all the loving thoughts of loving life, ere this maturity of family repose--is it not enough to make old bachelors gaze with envy, and go and advertise for wives?--each one sighing as he goes, that he has no happy home to receive him--no best of womankind his spouse--no children to run to meet him and devour him with kisses, while secret sweetness is overflowing at his heart and so he beats it like a poor player, and says, that is, if he be a latinist-- "at non domus accipiet te læta, neque uxor optima, nec dulces occurrent oscula nati præripère, et tacitâ pectus dulcedine tangent."--_lucret_. but leaving the "gentle bachelor" to settle the matter with himself as he may, i will not be hurried beyond bounds--not bounds of the subject, or what is due to it, but of your patience, eusebius, who know and feel, more sensibly than i can express, woman's worth. you want to know her wrongs--and you say that i am a sketcher from life. well, that being the case, though it is painful to dwell upon any case, accept the following sketch from nature; it is a recent event--you may not question the truth--the names i conceal. a sour, sulky, cantankerous fellow, of some fortune, lean, wizened, and little, with one of those parchment complexions that indicate a cold antipathy to aught but self, married a fine generous creature, fair and large in person; neither bride nor bridegroom were in the flower of youth--a flower which, it is hard to say why, is supposed to shed "a purple light of love." after the wedding, the "happy couple" departed to spend the honeymoon among their relations. in such company, the ill-tempered husband is obliged to behave his best--he coldly puts on the polite hypocrite in the presence of others--but, every moment of _tête-à-tête_, vents maliciously his ill-temper upon his spouse. it happened, that after one day of more remarkably well-acted sweetness, he retired in more than common disgust at the fatigue he had been obliged to endure, to make himself appear properly agreeable. he gets into bed, and instantly tucks up his legs with his knees nigh to his chin, and--detestable little wretch!--throws out a kick with his utmost power against his fair, fat, substantial partner. what is the result? he did not calculate the "_vis inertiæ_," that a little body kicking against the greater is wont to come off second best--so he kicks himself out of bed, and here ends the comedy of the affair; the rest is tragic enough. some how or other, in his fall, he broke his neck upon the spot. this was a very awkward affair. the bell is rung, up come the friends; the story is told, nor is it other than they had suspected. it does not end here, for, of course, there must be an inquest. it is an irish jury. all said it served him right--and so what is the verdict?--justifiable _felo-de-se_." here, eusebius, you have something remarkable;--one happier at the termination than the commencement of the honeymoon--a widow happier than a bride. she might go forth to the world again, with the sweet reputation of having smothered him with kisses, and killed him with kindness--if the verdict can be concealed; if not, while the husband is buried with the ignominy of "felonious intent," the widow will be but little disconsolate, and universally applauded. to those of any experience, it will not be a cause of wonder how such parties should come together. it is but an instance of the too common "bitter jokes" of love, or rather hymen. i only wish, that if ever man try that experiment again, he may meet with precisely the same success; and that if any man marries, determined to _fall out_ with his bride, he may _fall out_ in that very way, and at the very first opportunity. the next little incident from married life which i mean to give you, will show you the wonderful wit and ingenuity of the sex. here the parties had been much longer wedded. the poor woman had borne much. the husband thought he had a second griselda. the case of his tyranny was pretty well known; indeed, the poor wife too often bore marks, that could not be concealed, of the "purple light" of his love--his passion. the gentleman, for such was, i regret to say, his grade of life, invited a number of friends to dine with him, giving directions to his lady that the dinner should be a good one. behold the guests assembled--grace said--and hear the dialogue:--husband--"my dear, what is that dish before you?" wife--"oh, my dear, it is a favourite dish of yours--stewed eels." husband--"then, my dear, i will trouble you." after a pause, during which the husband endeavours in vain to cut through what is before him--then--husband--"why, my dear, what _is_ this--it is quite hard, i cannot get through it." wife--"yes, my dear, it is _very_ hard, and i rather wished you to know _how_ hard--it is the horse whip you gave me for breakfast this morning." i will not add a word to it. you, eusebius, will not read a line more; you are in antics of delight--you cannot keep yourself quiet for joy--you walk up and down--you sit--you rise--you laugh--you roar out. oh! this is better than the "taming of a shrew." and do you think "a brute of a husband" is so easily tamed? the lion was a gentle beast, and made himself submissive to sweet una; but the brute of a husband, he is indeed a very hideous and untameable wild-fowl. poor, good, loving woman is happily content at some thing far under perfection. in a lower grade of life, good wife once told me, that she had had an excellent husband, for that he had never kicked her but twice. on enquiry, i found he died young.--my dear eusebius, yours ever, and as ever, ------ * * * * * marston; or, the memoirs of a statesman. part v. "have i not in my time heard lions roar? have i not heard the sea, puft up with wind, rage like an angry boar chafed with sweat? have i not heard great ordinance in the field, and heaven's artillery thunder in the skies? have i not in the pitched battle heard loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets clang?" shakespeare. i found the jew in his den as usual, and communicated my object, like a man of business, in as few words as possible, and in that tone which showed that i had made up my mind. to my surprise, and, i must own, a little to the chagrin of my vanity, he made no opposition to it whatever. i afterwards ascertained that, on the day before, he had received a proposal of marriage for his daughter from a german _millionaire_ of his own line; and that, as there could be no comparison between a penniless son-in-law, if he came of the blood of all the paleologi, and one of the tribe of issachar with his panniers loaded with guineas, the sooner i took my flight the better. "you are perfectly right," said he, "in desiring to see the continent; and in paris you will find the continent all gathered into a glance, as a french cook gives you a dozen sauces in compounding one fricassee. it happens, curiously enough, that i can just now furnish you with some opportunities for seeing it in the most convenient manner. a person with whom i have had occasional business in downing street, has applied to me to name an individual in my confidence, as an _attaché_ to our embassy in france, though, be it understood, without an actual appointment." i started at this dubious diplomacy. "this," said he, "only shows that you have still to learn the trade. let me then tell you, that it is by such persons that all the real work of diplomacy is carried on. can you suppose that the perfumed and polished young gentlemen who, under the name of secretaries and sub secretaries, superior and inferior _attachés_, and so forth, haunt the hotels of the embassy, are the real instruments? it is true, they are necessary to the dinners and balls of the embassy. they are useful to drive out the ambassador's horses to air, escort his wife, and dance with his daughters. but the business is uniformly done by somebody of whom nobody knows any thing, but that he is never seen loitering about the ambassador's drawing-room though he has the _entrée_ of his closet; and that he never makes charades, though he corresponds from day to day with the government at home. of course you will accept the appointment--and now, let me give you your credentials." he unlocked a cabinet, which, except for its dust and the coating of cobwebs which time had wrought upon it, might have figured in the saloons of the medici. the succession of springs which he touched, and of secret drawers which started at the touch, might have supplied a little history of italian intrigue. at last he found the roll of papers which he sought, and having first thrown a glance round the room, as if a spy sat on every chair, he began to unroll them; with a rapid criticism on each as the few first lines met his eye. every nerve of his countenance was in full play as he looked over those specimens of the wisdom of the wise; it would have been an invaluable study to a laveter. he had evidently almost forgotten that i was present; and the alternate ridicule and disdain of his powerful physiognomy were assisted, in my comprehension, by notes from time to time--certainly the antipodes of flattery--"paltry knave"--"pompous fool"--"specious swindler." "ambassador! ay, if we were to send one to a nation of baboons." "here," said he, throwing, the bundle on the table, "if i did not despise mankind enough already, i have sufficient evidence to throng the pillory. i deal in gold; well, it is only such that can know the world. hate, ambition, religion--all have their hypocrisies; but money applies the thumbscrew to them all. want, sir, want, is the master of mankind. there have been men--ay, and women too--within this dungeon, as you think it, whose names would astonish you. oh! father abraham"-- i finished the quotation.--"what fools these christians are!" he burst into grim laughter. "here you have the paper," said he, "and i must therefore send you back to the secretary's office. but there you must not be known. secrecy is essential even to your life. stabbing in paris is growing common, and the knowledge that you had any other purpose than gambling, might be repaid by a poniard." he now prepared his note, and as he wrote, continued his conversation in fragments. "three-fourths of mankind are mere blunderers, and the more you know of them the more you will be of my opinion. i am by no means sure that we have not some of them in whitehall itself. pitt is a powerful man, and he alone keeps them together; without him they would be potsherds.--pitt thinks that we can go on without a war: he is mistaken. how is it possible to keep europe in peace, when the continent is as rotten as thatch, and france as combustible as gunpowder?--the minister is a man of wonders, but he cannot prevent thirty millions of maniacs from playing their antics until they are cooled by blood-letting; or a hundred millions of germans, spaniards, dutch, and italians from being pilfered to their last coin!--old frederick, the greatest genius that ever sat upon a german throne, saw this fifty years ago. i have him at this moment before my eyes, as he walked with his hands behind his bent back in the little parterre of sans souci. i myself heard him utter the words--'if i were king of france, a cannon-shot should not be fired in europe without my permission.'--france is now governed by fools, and is nothing. but if ever she shall have an able man at her head, she will realize old frederick's opinion." as no time was to be lost, i hurried with my note of introduction to whitehall, was ushered through a succession of dingy offices into a small chamber, where i found, busily employed at an escrutoire, a young man of a heavy and yet not unintelligent countenance. he read my note, asked me whether i had ever been in paris, from which he had just returned; uttered a sentence or two in the worst possible french, congratulated me on the fluency of my answer, rang his bell, and handed me a small packet, endorsed--_most secret and confidential_. he then made the most awkward of bows; and our interview was at an end. i saw this man afterwards prime minister. till now, the novelty and interest of any new purpose had kept me in a state of excitement; but i now found, to my surprise, my spirits suddenly flag, and a dejection wholly unaccountable seize upon me. perhaps something like this occurs after all strong excitement; but a cloud seemed actually to draw over my mind. my thoughts sometimes even fell into confusion--i deeply repented having involved myself in a rash design, which required qualities so much more experienced than mine; and in which, if i failed, the consequences might be so ruinous, not merely to my own character, but to noble and even royal lives. i now felt the whole truth of hamlet's description--the ways of the world "flat, stale, and unprofitable;" the face of nature gloomy; the sky a "congregation of pestilent vapours." it was not the hazard of life; exposed, as it might be, in the midst of scenes of which the horrors were daily deepening; it was a general undefined feeling, of having undertaken a task too difficult for my powers, and of having engaged in a service in which i could neither advance with hope nor retreat with honour. after a week of this painful fluctuation, i received a note, saying that i had but six hours before me, and that i must leave london at midnight. i strayed involuntarily towards devonshire house. it was one of its state dinner-days, and the street rang with the incessant setting down of the guests. as i stood gazing on the crowd, to prevent more uneasy thoughts, lafontaine stood before me. he was in uniform, and looked showily. he was to be one of the party, and his manner had all the animation which scenes of this order naturally excite in those with whom the world goes well. but my countenance evidently startled him, and he attempted to offer such consolation as was to be found in telling me that if la comtesse was visible, he should not fail to tell her of the noble manner in which i had volunteered; and the happiness which i had thus secured to him and mariamne. "you may rely on it," said he, "that i shall make her sick of monsieur le marquis and his sulky physiognomy. i shall dance with her, shall talk to her, and you shall be the subject, as you so well deserve." "but her marriage is inevitable," was my sole answer. "oh, true; inevitable! but that makes no possible difference. you cannot marry all the women you may admire, nor they you. so, the only imaginable resource is, to obtain their friendship, to be their _pastor fido_, their hero, their amadis. you then have the _entrée_ of their houses, the honour of their confidence, and the favoured seat in their boxes, till you prefer the favoured seat at their firesides, and all grow old together." the sound of a neighbouring church clock broke off our dialogue. he took out his diamond watch, compared it with the time, found that to delay a moment longer would be a solecism which might lose him a smile or be punished with a frown; repeated a couplet on the pangs of parting with friends; and with an embrace, in the most glowing style of paris, bounded across the street, and was lost in the crowd which blocked up her grace's portal. thus parted the gay lieutenant and myself; he to float along the stream of fashion in its most sparkling current--i to tread the twilight paths of the green park in helplessness and heaviness of soul. this interview had not the more reconciled me to life. i was vexed with what i regarded the nonchalance of my friend, and began to wish that i had left him to go through his own affairs as he might. but reflection did justice to his gallant spirit, and i mentally thanked him for having relieved me from the life of an idler. at this moment my name was pronounced by a familiar voice; it was mordecai's. he had brought me some additional letters to the leaders of the party in paris. we returned to the hotel, and sat down to our final meal together. when the lights were brought in, i saw that he looked at me with some degree of surprise, and even of alarm. "you are ill," said he; "the life of london is too much for you. there are but three things that constitute health in this world--air, exercise, and employment." i acknowledged to him my misgivings as to my fitness for the mission. but he was a man of the world. he asked me, "do you desire to resign? if so, i have the power to revoke it at this moment. and you can do this without loss of honour, for it is known to but two persons in england--lafontaine and myself. i have not concealed its danger from you, and i have ascertained that even the personal danger is greater than i thought. in fact, one of my objects in coming to you at this hour was, to apprise you of the state of things, if not to recommend your giving up the mission altogether." the alternative was now plainly before me; and, stern as was the nature of the israelite, i saw evidently that he would be gratified by my abandoning the project. but this was suddenly out of the question. the mission, to escape which in the half hour before i should have gladly given up every shilling i ever hoped to possess, was at once fixed in my mind as a peculiar bounty of fortune. there are periods in the human heart like those which we observe in nature--the atmosphere clears up after the tempest. the struggle which had shaken me so long had now passed away, and things assumed as new and distinct an aspect as a hill or a forest in the distance might on the passing away of a cloud. mordecai argued against my enthusiasm; but when was enthusiasm ever out-argued? i drove him horse and foot from the field. i did more, enthusiasm is contagious--i made him my convert. the feverish fire of my heart lent itself to my tongue, and i talked so loftily of revolutions and counter-revolutions; of the opportunity of seeing humankind pouring, like metal from the forge, into new shapes of society, of millions acting on a new scale of power, of nations summoned to a new order of existence, that i began to melt even the rigid prepossessions of that mass of granite, or iron, or whatever is most intractable--the jew. i could perceive his countenance changing from a smile to seriousness; and, as i declaimed, i could see his hollow eye sparkle, and his sallow lip quiver, with impressions not unlike my own. "whether you are fit for a politician," said he, "i cannot tell; for the trade is of a mingled web, and has its rough side as well as its smooth one. but, young as you are, and old as i am, there are some notions in which we do not differ so much as in our years. i have long seen that the world was about to undergo some extraordinary change. that it should ever come from the rabble of paris, i must confess, had not entered into my mind; a rope of sand, or a mountain of feathers, would have been as fully within my comprehension. i might have understood it, if it had come from john bull. but i have lived in france, and i never expected any thing from the people; more than i should expect to see the waterworks of versailles turned into a canal, or irrigating the thirsty acres round the palace." "yes," i observed; "but their sporting and sparkling answers their purpose. they amuse the holiday multitude for a day." "and are dry for a week.--if france shall have a revolution, it will be as much a matter of mechanism, of show, and of holiday, as the '_grand jet-d'eau_.'" he was mistaken. we ended with a parting health to mariamne, and his promise to attend to my interests at the horse-guards, on which i was still strongly bent. the jew was clearly no sentimentalist; but the glass of wine, and the few words of civility and recollection with which i had devoted it to his pretty daughter, evidently touched the father's heart. he lingered on the steps of the hotel, and still held my hand. "you shall not," said he, "be the worse for your good wishes, nor for that glass of wine. i shall attend to your business at whitehall when you are gone; and you might have worse friends than mordecai even there." he seemed big with some disclosure of his influence, but suddenly checked himself. "at all events," he added, "your services on the present occasion shall not be forgotten. you have a bold, ay, and a broad career before you. one thing i shall tell you. we shall certainly have war. the government here are blind to it. even the prime minister--and there is not a more sagacious mind on the face of the earth--is inclined to think that it may be averted. but i tell you, as the first secret which you may insert in your despatches, that it will come--will be sudden, desperate, and universal." "may i not ask from what source you have your information; it will at least strengthen mine?" "undoubtedly. you may tell the minister, or the world, that you had it from mordecai. i lay on you only one condition--that you shall not mention it within a week. i have received it from our brethren on the continent, as a matter of business. i give it to you here as a flourish for your first essay in diplomacy." we had now reached the door of the post-chaise. he drew out another letter. "this," said he, "is from my daughter. before you come among us again, she will probably be the wife of one of our nation, and the richest among us. but she still values you as the preserver of her life, and sends you a letter to one of our most intimate friends in paris. if he shall not be frightened out of it by the violence of the mob, you will find him and his family hospitable. now, farewell!" he turned away. i sprang into the post-chaise, in which was already seated a french courier, with despatches from his minister; whose attendance the jew had secured, to lighten the first inconveniences to a young traveller. the word was given--we dashed along the dover road, and i soon gave my last gaze to london, with its fiery haze hanging over it, like the flame of a conflagration. my mind was still in a whirl as rapid as my wheels. hope, doubt, and determination passed through my brain in quick succession, yet there was one thought that came, like shakspeare's "delicate spirit," in all the tumult of soul, of which, like ariel in the storm, it was the chief cause, to soothe and subdue me. hastily as i had driven from the door of my hotel, i had time to cast my eye along the front of devonshire house. all the windows of its principal apartments shone with almost noonday brightness--uniforms glittered, and plumes waved in the momentary view. but in the range above, all was dark; except one window--the window of the boudoir--and there the light was of the dim and melancholy hue that instinctively gives the impression of the sick-chamber. was clotilde still there, feebly counting the hours of pain, while all within her hearing was festivity? the answers which i had received to my daily enquiries were cheerless. "she had not quitted the apartment where she had been first conveyed."--"the duchess insisted on her not being removed."--"madame was inconsolable, but the doctor had hopes." those, and other commonplaces of information, were all that i could glean from either the complacent chamberlains or the formal physician. and now i was to give up even this meagre knowledge, and plunge into scenes which might separate us for ever. but were we not separated already? if she recovered, must she not be in the power of a task-master? if she sank under her feebleness, what was earth to me? in those reveries i passed the hours until daybreak, when the sun and the sea rose together on my wearied eyes. * * * * * the bustle of dover aroused me to a sense of the world. all was animation on sea and shore. the emigration was now in full flow, and france was pouring down her terrified thousands on the nearest shore. the harbour was crowded with vessels of every kind, which had just disgorged themselves of their living cargoes; the streets were blocked up with foreign carriages; the foreign population had completely overpowered the native, and the town swarmed with strangers of every rank and dress, with the hurried look of escaped fugitives. as i drove to the harbour, my ear rang with foreign accents, and my eyes were filled with foreign physiognomies. from time to time the band of a regiment, which had furnished a guard to one of the french blood-royal, mingled its drums and trumpets with the swell of sea and shore; and, as i gazed on the moving multitude from my window, the thunder of the guns from the castle, for the arrival of some ambassador, grandly completed the general mass and power of the uproar. * * * * * three hours carried me to the french shore. free from all the vulgar vexations of the road, i had the full enjoyment of one of the most pleasant of all enjoyments--moving at one's ease through a new and interesting country. the road to paris is now like the road to windsor, to all the higher portions of my countrymen; but then it was much less known even to them than in later days, and the circumstances of the time gave it a totally new character. it was the difference between travelling through a country in a state of peace and in a state of war; between going to visit some superb palace for the purpose of viewing its paintings and curiosities, and hurrying to see what part of its magnificence had escaped an earthquake. the landscape had literally the look of war; troops were seen encamped in the neighbourhood of the principal towns; the national guards were exercising in the fields; mimic processions of children were beating drums and displaying banners in the streets, and the popular songs were all for the conquest of every thing beneath the moon. but i was to have a higher spectacle. and i shall never forget the mixture of wonder and awe which i felt at the first distant sight of the capital. it was at the close of a long day's journey, while the twilight gave a mysterious hue to a scene in itself singular and stately.--glistening spire on spire; massive piles, which in the deepening haze might be either prisons or palaces; vast ranges of buildings, gloomy or glittering as the partial ray fell on them; with the solemn beauty of the invalides on one wing, the light and lovely elegance of the st genevieve on the other, and the frowning majesty of notre-dame in the midst, filled the plain with a vision such as i had imaged only in an arabian tale. yet the moral reality was even greater than the visible. i felt that i was within reach of the chief seat of all the leading events of the continent since the birth of monarchy; every step which i might tread among those piles was historical; within that clouded circumference, like the circle of a necromancer, had been raised all the dazzling and all the disturbing spirits of the world. there was the grand display of statesmanship, pomp, ambition, pleasure, and each the most subtle, splendid, daring, and prodigal ever seen among men. and, was it not now to assume even a more powerful influence on the fates of mankind? was not the falling of the monarchical forest of so many centuries, about to lay the land open to a new, and perhaps a more powerful produce; where the free blasts of nature were to rear new forms, and demand new arts of cultivation? the monarchy was falling--but was not the space, cleared of its ruins, to be filled with some new structure, statelier still? or, if the government of the bourbons were to sink for ever from the eyes of men, were there to be no discoveries made in the gulf itself in which it went down; were there to be no treasures found in the recesses thus thrown open to the eye for the first time; no mines in the dissevered strata--no founts of inexhaustible freshness and flow opened by thus piercing into the bowels of the land? there are moments on which the destiny of a nation, perhaps of an age, turns. i had reached paris at one of those moments. as my calèche wound its slow way round the base of montmartre, i perceived, through the deepening twilight, a long train of flame, spreading from the horizon to the gates of the city. shouts were heard, with now and then the heavy sounds of cannon. this produced a dead stop in my progress. my postilion stoutly protested against venturing his calèche, his horses, and, what he probably regarded much more than either, himself, into the very heart of what he pronounced a counter-revolution. my courier, freighted with despatches, which might have been high treason to the majesty of the mob, and who saw nothing less than suspension from the first lamp-post in their discovery, protested, with about the same number of _sacres_; and my diplomatic beams seemed in a fair way to be shorn. but this was the actual thing which i had come to see: paris in its new existence; the capital of the populace; the headquarters of the grand army of insurgency; the living centre of all those flashes of fantasy, fury, and fire, which were already darting out towards every throne of europe. i determined to have a voice on the occasion, and i exerted it with such vigour, that i roused the inmates of a blockhouse, a party of the national guard, who, early as it was, had been as fast asleep as if they had been a _posse_ of city watchmen. they clustered round us, applauded my resolve, to see what was to be seen, as perfectly national, _vraiment français_; kicked my postilion till he mounted his horse, beat my sulky courier with the flats of their little swords, and would have bastinadoed, or probably hanged him, if i had not interposed; and, finally, hoisting me into the calèche, which they loaded with half a dozen of their number before and behind, commenced our march into paris. this was evidently not the age of discipline. it may have been owing to this curious escort that i got in at all; for at the gate i found a strong guard of the regular troops, who drove back a long succession of carriages which had preceded me. but my cortège were so thoroughly in the new fashion, they danced the "_carmagnole_" so boisterously, and sang patriotic rhymes with such strength of lungs, that it was impossible to refuse admission to patriots of such sonorousness. the popular conjectures, too, which fell to my share, vastly increased my importance. in the course of the five minutes spent in wading through the crowd of the rejected, i bore fifty different characters--i was a state prisoner--a deputy from marseilles, a part of the kingdom then in peculiar favour; an ex-general; a captain of banditti, and an ambassador from england or america; in either case, an especially honoured missionary, for england was then pronounced by all the parisian authorities to be on the verge of a revolution. though, i believe, jonathan had the preference, for the double reason, that the love of jean français for john bull is of a rather precarious order, and that the american revolution was an egg hatched by the warmth of the gallic bird itself; a secondary sort of parentage. as we advanced through the streets, my noisy "compagnons de voyage" dropped off one by one, some to the lowest places of entertainment, and some tired of the jest; and i proceeded to the place de vendome, where was my hotel, at my leisure. the streets were now solitary; to a degree that was almost startling. as i wound my way through long lines of houses, tortuous, narrow, and dark as erebus, i saw the cause of the singular success which had attended all parisian insurrections. a chain across one of these dismal streets, an overturned cart, a pile of stones, would convert it at once into an impassable defile. walls and windows, massive, lofty, and nearly touching each other from above afforded a perpetual fortification; lanes innumerable, and extending from one depth of darkness and intricacy into another, a network of attack and ambush, obviously gave an extraordinary advantage to the irregular daring of men accustomed to thread those wretched and dismal dens, crowded with one of the fiercest and most capricious populations in the world. times have strikingly changed since. the "fifteen fortresses" are but so many strong bars of the great cage, and they are neither too strong nor too many. paris is now the only city on earth which is defended against itself, garrisoned on its outside, and protected by a perpetual praetorian band against a national mania of insurrection. but, on turning into the boulevards, the scene changed with the rapidity of magic. before me were raging thousands, the multitude which i had seen advancing to the gates. the houses, as far as the eye could reach, were lighted up with lamps, torches, and every kind of hurried illumination. banners of all hues were waving from the casements, and borne along by the people; and in the midst of the wild procession were seen at a distance a train of travelling carriages, loaded on the roofs with the basest of the rabble. a mixed crowd of national guards, covered with dust, and drooping under the fatigue of the road, poissardes drunk, dancing, screaming the most horrid blasphemies, and a still wider circle, which seemed to me recruited from all the jails of paris, surrounded the carriages, which i at length understood to be those of the royal family. they had attempted to escape to the frontier, had been arrested, and were now returning as prisoners. i caught a glimpse, by the torchlight, of the illustrious sufferers, as they passed the spot where i stood. the queen was pale, but exhibited that stateliness of countenance for which she was memorable to the last; she sat with the dauphiness pressed in her arms. the king looked overcome with exhaustion; the dauphin gazed at the populace with a child's curiosity. at the moment when the carriages were passing, an incident occurred terribly characteristic of the time. a man of a noble presence, and with an order of st louis at his breast, who had been giving me a hurried and anxious explanation of the scene, excited by sudden feeling, rushed forward through the escort, and laying one hand on the royal carriage, with the other waved his hat, and shouted, "vive le roi!" in another instant i saw him stagger; a pike was darted into his bosom, and he fell dead under the wheel. before the confusion of this frightful catastrophe had subsided, a casement was opened immediately above my head, and a woman, superbly dressed, rushed out on the balcony waving a white scarf, and crying, "vive marie antoinette!" the muskets of the escort were turned upon her, and a volley was fired at the balcony. she started back at the shock, and a long gush of blood down her white robe showed that she had been wounded. but she again waved the scarf, and again uttered the loyal cry. successive shots were fired at her by the monsters beneath; but she still stood. at length she received the mortal blow; she tottered and fell; yet, still clinging to the front of the balcony, she waved the scarf, and constantly attempted to pronounce the words of her generous and devoted heart, until she expired. i saw this scene with an emotion beyond my power to describe; all the enthusiasm of popular change was chilled within me; my boyish imaginations of republicanism were extinguished by this plunge into innocent blood; and i never felt more relieved, than when the whole fearful procession at length moved on, and i was left to make my way once more, through dim and silent streets, to my dwelling. * * * * * i pass by a considerable portion of the time which followed. the revolution was like the tiger, it advanced couching; though, when it sprang, its bound was sudden and irresistible. my time was occupied in my official functions, which became constantly more important, and of which i received flattering opinions from downing street. i mingled extensively in general society, and it was never more animated, or more characteristic, than at that period in paris. the leaders of faction and the leaders of fashion, classes so different in every other part of the world, were there often the same. the woman who dazzled the ball-room, was frequently the _confidente_ of the deepest designs of party. the coterie in a _salon_, covered with gilding, and filled with _chefs-d'oeuvre_ of the arts, was often as subtle as a conspiracy in the cells of the jacobins; and the dance or the masquerade only the preliminary to an outbreak which shattered a ministry into fragments all the remarkable men of france passed before me, and i acknowledge that i was frequently delighted and surprised by their extra ordinary attainments. the age of the _encyclopédie_ was in its wane, but some of its brilliant names still illustrated the parisian _salons_. i recognised the style of buffon and rousseau in a crowd of their successors; and the most important knowledge was frequently communicated in language the most eloquent and captivating. even the mixture of society which had been created by the revolution, gave an original force and freshness to these assemblies, infinitely more attractive than the most elaborate polish of the old _régime_. brissot, the common printer, but a man of singular strength of thought, there figured by condorcet, the noble and the man of profound science. st etienne, the little bustling partizan, yet the man of talent, mingled with the chief advocates of the parisian courts; or servan fenced with his subtle knowledge of the world against vergniaud, the romantic girondist, but the most ciceronian of orators. talleyrand, already known as the most sarcastic of men, and maury, by far the most powerful debater of france since mirabeau--figured among the chief ornaments of the _salons_ of de staël. roland, and the showy and witty theresa cabarrus, and even the flutter of la fayette, the most tinsel of heroes, and the sullen sententiousness of robespierre, then known only as a provincial deputy, furnished a background which increased the prominence of the grouping. but the greatest wonder of france still escaped the general eye. at a ball at the hotel de staël, i remember to have been struck with the energetic denunciation of some rabble insult to the royal family, by an officer whom nobody knew. as a circle were standing in conversation on the topic of the day, the little officer started from his seat, pushed into the group, and expressed his utter contempt for the supineness of the government on those occasions, so strongly, as to turn all eyes upon him. "where were the troops, where the guns?" he exclaimed. "if such things are suffered, all is over with royalty; a squadron of horse, and a couple of six pounders, would have swept away the whole swarm of scoundrels like so many flies." having thus discharged his soul, he started back again, flung himself into a chair, and did not utter another word through the evening. i little dreamed that in that meagre frame, and long, thin physiognomy, i saw napoleon. i must hasten to other things. yet i still cast many a lingering glance over these times. the vividness of the collision was incomparable. the wit, the eccentricity, the anecdote, the eloquence of those assemblages, were of a character wholly their own. they had, too, a substantial nutriment, the want of which had made the conversation of the preceding age vapid, with all its elegance.--public events of the most powerful order fed the flame. it was the creation of a vast national excitement; the rush of sparks from the great electrical machine, turned by the hands of thirty millions. the flashes were still but matters of sport and surprise. the time was nigh when those flashes were to be fatal, and that gay lustre was to do the work of conflagration. i had now been a year in paris, without returning, or wishing to return, to london. a letter now and then informed me of the state of those who still drew my feelings towards england. but i was in the centre of all that awoke, agitated, or alarmed europe; and, compared with the glow and rapidity of events in france, the rest of europe appeared asleep, or to open its eyes solely when some new explosion shook it from its slumber. my position, too, was a matchless school for the learner in diplomacy. france shaped the politics of the continent; and i was present in the furnace where the casting was performed. france was the stage to which every eye in europe was turned, whether for comedy or tragedy; and i was behind the scenes. but the change was at hand. one night i found an individual, of a very marked appearance, waiting for me at my hotel. his countenance was evidently jewish, and he introduced himself as one of the secret police of the ministry. the man handed me a letter--it was from mordecai, and directed to be given with the utmost secrecy. it was in his usual succinct and rapid style. "i write this in the midst of a tumult of business. my friend mendoza will give you such knowledge and assistance as may be necessary. france is on the point of an explosion. every thing is prepared. it is impossible that it can be delayed above a week or two, and the only origin of the delay is in the determination to make the overthrow final. acquaint your english officials with this. the monarchy of the bourbons has signed its death-warrant. by suffering a legislature to be formed by the votes of the mere multitude, it has put property within the power of all beggars; rank has been left at the mercy of the rabble; and the church has been sacrificed to please a faction. thus the true pillars of society have been cut away; and the throne is left in the air. mendoza will tell you more. the train is already laid. a letter from a confidential agent tells us that the day is fixed. at all events, avoid the mine. there is no pleasure in being blown up, even in company with kings." a postscript briefly told me--that his daughter sent her recollections; that clotilde was still indisposed; la fontaine giddier than ever; and, as the proof of his own confidence in his views, that he had just sold out , three per cent consols. my first visit next morning was to the british embassy. but the ambassador was absent in the country, and the functionary who had been left in charge was taking lessons on the guitar, and extremely unwilling to be disturbed by matters comparatively so trifling as the fate of dynasties. i explained, but explained in vain. the hour was at hand when his horses were to be at the door for a ride in the bois de boulogne. i recommended a ride after the ambassador. it was impossible. he was to be the escort of a duchess; then to go to a dinner at the russian embassy, and was under engagements to three balls in the course of the evening. nothing could be clearer than that such duties must supersede the slight concerns of office. i left him under the hands of his valet, curling his ringlets, and preparing him to be the admiration of mankind. i saw mendoza secretly again; received from him additional intelligence; and, as i was not inclined to make a second experiment on the "elegant extract" of diplomacy, and escort of duchesses, i went, as soon as the nightfall concealed my visit, to the hotel of the foreign minister. this was my first interview with the celebrated dumourier. he received me with the courtesy of a man accustomed to high life; and i entered on the purport of my visit at once. he was perfectly astonished at my tidings. he had known that strong resolutions had been adopted by the party opposed to the cabinet; but was startled by the distinct avowal of its intention to overthrow the monarchy. i was struck with his appearance, his quickness of conception, and that mixture of sportiveness and depth, which i had found characteristic of the higher orders of french society. he was short in stature, but proportioned for activity; his countenance bold, but with smiling lips and a most penetrating grey eye. his name as a soldier was at this period wholly unknown, but i could imagine in him a leader equally subtle and daring;--he soon realized my conjecture. we sat together until midnight; and over the supper-table, and cheered by all the good things which french taste provides and enjoys more than any other on earth, he gave full flow to his spirit of communication. the frenchman's sentences are like sabre-cuts--they have succession, but no connexion. "i shall always converse with you, m. marston," said he, "with ease; for you are of the noblesse of your own great country, and i am tired of _roturiers_ already.--the government has committed dangerous faults. the king is an excellent man, but his heart is where his head ought to be, and his head where his heart.--his flight was a terrible affair, but it was a blunder on both sides; _he_ ought never to have gone, or the government ought never to have brought him back.--however, i have no cause to complain of its epitaph. the blunder dissolved that government. i have to thank it for bringing me and my colleagues into power. our business now is to preserve the monarchy, but this becomes more difficult from day to day." i adverted to the personal character of the royal family. "nothing can be better. but chance has placed them in false position.--if the king were but the first prince of the blood, his benevolence without his responsibility would make him the most popular man in france.--if the queen were still but the dauphiness, she would be, as she was then, all but worshipped. as the leader of fashion in france, she would be the leader of taste in europe.--elegant, animated, and high-minded, she would have charmed every one, without power. if she could but continue to move along the ground, all would admire the grace of her steps; but, sitting on a throne, she loses the spell of motion." "yet, can france ever forget her old allegiance, and adopt the fierce follies of a republic?" "i think not. and yet we are dealing with agencies of which we know nothing but the tremendous force. we are breathing a new atmosphere, which may at first excite only to kill.--we have let out the waters of a new river-head, which continues pouring from hour to hour, with a fulness sufficient to terrify us already, and threatening to swell over the ancient landmarks of the soil.--it is even now a torrent--what can prevent it from being a lake? what hand of man can prevent that lake from being an ocean? or what power of human council can say to that ocean in its rage--thus far shalt thou go?" "but the great institutions of france, will they not form a barrier? is not their ancient firmness proof against the loose and desultory assaults of a populace like that of paris?" "i shall answer by an image which occurred to me on my late tour of inspection to the ports in the west. at cherbourg, millions of francs have been spent in attempting to make a harbour. when i was there one stormy day, the ocean rose, and the first thing swept away was the great _caisson_ which formed the principal defence against the tide,--its wrecks were carried up the harbour, heaped against the piers, which they swept away; hurled against the fortifications, which they broke down; and finally working ten times more damage than if the affair had been left to the surges alone. the thought struck me at the moment, that this _caisson_ was the emblem of a government assailed by an irresistible force. the firmer the foundations, and the loftier the superstructure, the surer it was to be ultimately carried away, and to carry away with it all that the mere popular outburst would have spared.--the massiveness of the obstacle increased the spread of the ruin. few asiatic kingdoms would be overthrown with less effort, and perish with less public injury, than the monarchy of the bourbons, if it is to fall. yet, your monarchy is firmer. it is less a vast building than a mighty tree, not fixed on foundations which can never widen, but growing from roots which continually extend. but, if that tree perish, it will not be thrown down, but torn up; it will not leave a space clear to receive a new work of man, but a pit, which no successor can fill for a thousand years." "but the insurrection; i fear the attack on the palace." "it will not take place. your information shall be forwarded to the court; where, however, i doubt whether it will be received with much credence. the austrian declaration of war has put the flatterers of royalty into such spirits, that if the tocsin were sounding at this instant, they would not believe in the danger. we have been unfortunately forced to send the chief part of the garrison of paris towards the frontier. but we have three battalions of the swiss guard within call at courbevoie, and they can be ready on the first emergency. rely upon it, all will go well." with this assurance i was forced to be content; but i relied much more upon mordecai and his jewish intelligence. a despatch to london gave a minute of this conversation before i laid my head on my pillow; and i flung myself down, not without a glance at the tall roofs of the tuileries, and a reflection on how much the man escapes whose forehead has no wrinkle from the diadem. within twenty four hours of this interview the ministry was dissolved! dumourier was gone posthaste to the command of one of the armies on the frontier, merely to save his life from the mob, and i went to bed, in the place vendôme, by the light of lafayette burned in effigy in the centre of the square. so much for popularity. at dusk, on the memorable ninth of august, as i was sitting in a café of the palais royal, listening to the mountain songs of a party of swiss minstrels in front of the door, mendoza, passing through the crowd, made me a signal; i immediately followed him to an obscure corner of one of the galleries. "the insurrection is fixed for to-night," was his startling announcement. "at twelve by the clock of notre-dame, all the sections will be under arms. the jacobin club, the club of the cordeliers, and the faubourg st antoine, are the alarm posts. the marseillais are posted at the cordeliers, and are to head the attack. danton is already among them, and has published this address. he gave me the placard. it was brief and bold. "citizens--the country is betrayed. france is in the hands of her enemies. the austrians are advancing. our troops are retreating, and paris must be defended by her brave sons alone. but we have traitors in the camp. our legislators are their accomplices: lafayette, the slave of kings, has been suffered to escape; but the nation must be avenged. the perfidious louis is about to follow his example and fly, after having devoted the capital to conflagration. delay a moment, and you will have to fight by the flame of your houses, and to bleed over the ashes of your wives and children. march, and victory is yours. to arms! to arms!! to arms!!!" "does danton lead the insurrection?" "no--for two reasons: he is an incendiary but no soldier; and they cannot trust him in case of success. a secret meeting of the heads of the party was held two days since, to decide on a leader of the sections. it was difficult, and had nearly been finished by the dagger. billaud de varennes, vanquelin, st angely, and danton, were successively proposed. robespierre objected to them all. at length an old german refugee, a beggar, but a soldier, was fixed on; and westerman is to take the command. by one o'clock the tocsin is to be rung, and the insurgents are instantly to move from all points on the tuileries." "what is the object?" "the seizure, or death, of the king and royal family!" "and the result of that object?" "the proclamation of a republic!" "is this known at the palace?" "not a syllable. all there are in perfect security; to communicate intelligence there is not in my department." as i looked at the keen eye and dark physiognomy of my informant, there was an expression of surprise in mine at this extraordinary coolness, which saved me the trouble of asking the question. "you doubt me," said he, "you feel distrust of information unpaid and voluntary. but i have been ordered by mordecai, the chief of our tribe in england, to watch over you; and this information is a part of my obedience to the command." he suddenly darted away. notwithstanding the steadiness of his assertions i still doubted their probability, and, to examine the point for myself, i strayed towards the palace. all there was tranquil; a few lights were scattered through the galleries, but every sound of life, much less of watchfulness and preparation, was still. the only human beings in sight were some dismounted cavalry, and a battalion of the national guard, lounging: about the square. as i found it impossible to think of rest until the truth or falsehood of my information was settled, i next wandered along the boulevarde, in the direction of the faubourg st antoine, the focus of all the tumults of paris; but all along this fine avenue was hushed as if a general slumber had fallen over the city. the night was calm, and the air was a delicious substitute for the hot and reeking atmosphere of this populous quarter in the day. i saw no gathering of the populace; no hurrying torches. i heard no clash of arms, nor tramp of marching men; all lay beneath the young moon, which, near her setting, touched the whole scene with a look of soft and almost melancholy quietude. the character of my israelite friend began to fall rapidly in the scale, and i had made up my mind that insurrection had gone to its slumbers for that night; when, as i was returning by the _place de bastile_, and was passing under the shadow of one of the huge old houses that then surrounded that scene of hereditary terror, two men, who had been loitering beside the parapet of the fosse, suddenly started forward and planted themselves in my way. i flung one of them aside, but the other grasped my arm, and, drawing a dagger, told me that my life was at his mercy. his companion giving a signal, a group of fierce-looking fellows started from their lurking-places; and of course further resistance was out of the question. i was ordered to follow them, and regarding myself as having nothing to fear, yet uneasy at the idea of compulsion, i remonstrated, but in vain; and was finally led through a labyrinth of horrid alleys, to what i now found to be the headquarters of the insurrection. it was an immense building, which had probably been a manufactory, but was now filled with the leaders of the mob. the few torches which were its only light, and which scarcely showed the roof and extremity of the building, were, however, enough to show heaps of weapons of every kind--muskets, sabres, pikes, and even pitchforks and scythes, thrown on the floor. on one side, raised on a sort of desk, was a ruffianly figure flinging placards to the crowd below, and often adding some savage comment on their meaning, which produced a general laugh. flags inscribed with "liberty bread or blood--down with the tyrant"--and that comprehensive and peculiarly favourite motto of the mob--"may the last of the kings be strangled with the entrails of the last of the priests," were hung from the walls in all quarters; and in the centre of the floor were ranged three pieces of artillery surrounded by their gunners. i now fully acknowledged the exactness of mendoza's information; and began to feel considerable uncertainty about my own fate in the midst of a horde of armed ruffians, who came pouring in more thickly every moment, and seemed continually more ferocious. at length i was ordered to go forward to a sort of platform at the head of the hall, where some candles were still burning, and the remnants of a supper gave signs that there had been gathered the chief persons of this tremendous assemblage. a brief interrogatory from one of them armed to the teeth, and with a red cap so low down on his bushy brows as almost wholly to disguise his physiognomy, enquired my name, my business in paris, and especially what i had to allege against my being shot as a spy in the pay of the tuileries. my answers were drowned in the roar of the multitude. still, i protested firmly against this summary trial, and at length threatened them with the vengeance of my country. this might be heroic, but it was injudicious. patriotism is a fiery affair, and a circle of pistols and daggers ready prepared for action, and roused by the word to execute popular justice on me, waited but the signal from the platform. their leader rose with some solemnity, and taking off his cap, to give the ceremonial a more authentic aspect, declared me to have forfeited the right to live, by acting the part of an _espion_, and ordered me to be shot in "front of the leading battalion of the army of vengeance." the decree was so unexpected, that for the instant i felt absolutely paralyzed. the sight left my eyes, my ears tingled with strange sounds, and i almost felt as if i had received the shots of the ruffians, who now, incontrollable in their first triumph, were firing their pistols in all directions in the air. but at the moment, so formidable to my future career, i heard the sound of the clock of notre dame. i felt a sudden return of my powers and recollections, but the hands of my assassins were already upon me. the sound of the general signal for their march produced a rush of the crowd towards the gate, i took advantage of the confusion, struck down one of my captors, shook off the other, and plunged into the living torrent that was now pouring and struggling before me. but even when i reached the open air--and never did i feel its freshness with a stronger sense of revival--i was still in the midst of the multitude, and any attempt to make my way alone would have obviously been death. thus was i carried on along the boulevarde, in the heart of a column of a hundred thousand maniacs, trampled, driven, bruised by the rabble, and deafened with shouts, yells, and cries of vengeance, until my frame was a fever and my brain scarcely less than a frenzy. that terrible morning gave the deathblow to the mighty monarchy of the bourbons. the throne was so shaken by the popular arm, that though it preserved a semblance of its original shape, a breath was sufficient to cast it to the ground. i have no heart for the recital. even now i can scarcely think of that tremendous pageant of popular fantasy, fury, and the very passion of crime; or bring to my mind's eye that column, which seemed then to be boundless and endless, with the glare of its torches, the rattle of its drums, the grinding of its cannon-wheels, as we rushed along the causeway, from time to time stopping to fire, as a summons to the other districts, and as a note of exultation; or the perpetual, sullen, and deep roar of the populace--without a thrilling sense of perplexity and pain. long before daybreak we had swept all minor resistance before us, plundered the arsenal of its arms, and taken possession of the hotel de ville. the few troops who had kept guard at the different posts on our way, had been captured without an effort, or joined the insurgents. but intelligence now came that the palace was roused at last, that troops were ordered from the country for its defence, and that the noblesse remaining in the capital were crowding to the tuileries. i stood beside danton when those tidings were brought to him. he flung up his cap in the air, with a burst of laughter. "so much the better!" he exclaimed; "the closer the preserve, the thicker the game." i had now a complete view of this hero of democracy. his figure was herculean; his countenance, which possibly, in his younger days, had been handsome, was now marked with the lines of every passion and profligacy, but it was still commanding. his costume was one which he had chosen for himself, and which was worn by his peculiar troop; a short brown mantle, an under-robe with the arms naked to the shoulder, a broad leathern belt loaded with pistols, a huge sabre in hand, rusted from hilt to point, which he declared to have been stained with the blood of aristocrats, and the republican red cap, which he frequently waved in the air, or lifted on the point of his sabre as a standard. yet, in the midst of all this savage disorder of costume, i observed every hair of his enormous whiskers to be curled with the care of a parisian _merveilleux_. it was the most curious specimen of the ruling passion that i remember to have seen. at the hotel de ville, danton entered the hall with several of the insurgents; and the crowd, unwilling to waste time, began to fire at the little statues and insignia of the french kings, which ornamented this old building. when this amusement palled--the french are easily _ennuied_--they formed circles, and danced the carmagnole. rum and brandy, largely introduced among them, gave them animation after their night's watching, and they were fit for any atrocity. but the beating of drums, and a rush to the balconies of the hotel de ville, told us that something of importance was at hand; and, in the midst of a group of municipal officers, petion, the mayor of paris, arrived. no man in france wore a milder visage, or hid a blacker heart under it. he was received with shouts, and after a show of resistance, just sufficient to confirm his character for hypocrisy, suffered himself to be led to the front of the grand balcony, bowing as the man of the people. another followed, a prodigious patriot, who had been placed at the head of the national guard for his popular sycophancy, but who, on being called on by the mob to swear "death to the king;" and hesitating, felt the penalty of being unprepared to go all lengths on the spot. i saw his throat cut, and his body flung from the balcony. a cannon-shot gave the signal for the march, and we advanced to the grand prize of the day. i can describe but little more of the assault on the tuileries, than that it was a scene of desperate confusion on both sides. the front of the palace continually covered with the smoke of fire-arms of all kinds, from all the casements; and the front of the mob a similar cloud of smoke, under which men fired, fled, fell, got drunk, and danced. nothing could be more ferocious, or more feeble. some of the sections utterly ran away on the first fire; but, as they were unpursued, they returned by degrees, and joined the fray. it may be presumed that i made many an effort to escape; but i was in the midst of a battalion of the faubourg st antoine. i had already been suspected, from having dropped several muskets in succession, which had been thrust into my hands by the zeal of my begrimed comrades; and a sabre-cut, which i had received from one of our mounted ruffians as he saw me stepping to the rear, warned me that my time was not yet come to get rid of the scene of revolt and bloodshed. at length the struggle drew to a close. a rumour spread that the king had left the palace, and gone to the assembly. the cry was now on all sides--"advance, the day is our own!" the whole multitude rushed forward, clashing their pikes and muskets, and firing their cannon, which were worked by deserters from the royal troops; the marseillais, a band of the most desperate-looking ruffians that eye was ever set upon, chiefly galley-slaves and the profligate banditti of a sea-port, led the column of assault; and the sudden and extraordinary cessation of the fire from the palace windows, seemed to promise a sure conquest. but, as the smoke subsided, i saw a long line of troops, three deep, drawn up in front of the chief entrance. their scarlet uniforms showed that they were the swiss. the gendarmerie, the national guard, the regular battalions, had abandoned them, and their fate seemed inevitable. but there they stood, firm as iron. their assailants evidently recoiled; but the discharge of some cannon-shots, which told upon the ranks of those brave and unfortunate men, gave them new courage, and they poured onward. the voice of the swiss commandant giving the word to fire was heard, and it was followed by a rolling discharge, from flank to flank, of the whole battalion. it was my first experience of the effect of fire; and i was astonished at its precision, rapidity, and deadly power. in an instant, almost the whole troop of the marseillais, in our front, were stretched upon the ground, and every third man in the first line of the sections was killed or wounded. before this shock could be recovered, we heard the word "fire" again from the swiss officer, and a second shower of bullets burst upon our ranks. the sections turned and fled in all directions, some by the pont neuf, some by the place carrousel. the rout was complete; the terror, the confusion, and the yelling of the wounded were horrible. the havoc was increased by a party of the defenders of the palace, who descended into the court and fell with desperation on the fugitives. i felt that now was my time to escape, and darted behind one of the buttresses of a royal _porte cachere_, to let the crowd pass me. the skirmishing continued at intervals, and an officer in the uniform of the royal guard was struck down by a shot close to my feet. as he rolled over, i recognised his features. he was my young friend lafontaine! with an inconceivable shudder i looked on his pale countenance, and with the thought that he was killed was mingled the thought of the misery which the tidings would bring to fond ears in england. but as i drew the body within the shelter of the gate, i found that he still breathed; he opened his eyes, and i had the happiness, after waiting in suspense till the dusk covered our movements, of conveying him to my hotel. of the remaining events of this most calamitous day, i know but what all the world knows. it broke down the monarchy. it was the last struggle in which a possibility existed of saving the throne. the gentlest of the bourbons was within sight of the scaffold. he had now only to retrieve his character for personal virtue by laying down his head patiently under the blade of the guillotine. his royal character was gone beyond hope, and all henceforth was to be the trial of the legislature and the nation. even that trial was to be immediate, comprehensive, and condign. no people in the history of rebellion ever suffered, so keenly or so rapidly, the vengeance which belongs to national crimes. the saturnalia was followed by massacre. a new and darker spirit of ferocity displayed itself, in a darker and more degraded form, from hour to hour, until the democracy was extinguished. like the scripture miracle of the demoniac--the spirits which had once exhibited the shape of man, were transmitted into the shape of the brute; and even the swine ran down by instinct, and perished in the waters. * * * * * ceylon[ ] [ ] ceylon, and its capabilities. by j.w. bennett, esq. f.l.s. london allen: . with plain and coloured illustrations. to. there is in the science and process of colonization, as in every complex act of man, a secret philosophy--which is first suspected through results, and first expounded by experience. here, almost more than any where else, nature works in fellowship with man. yet all nature is not alike suited to the purposes of the early colonist; and all men are not alike qualified for giving effect to the hidden capacities of nature. one system of natural advantages is designed to have a long precedency of others; and one race of men is selected and sealed for an eternal preference in this function of colonizing to the very noblest of their brethren. as colonization advances, that ground becomes eligible for culture--that nature becomes full of promise--which in earlier stages of the science was _not_ so; because the dreadful solitude becomes continually narrower under the accelerated diffusion of men, which shortens the _space_ of distance--under the strides of nautical science, which shortens the _time_ of distance--and under the eternal discoveries of civilization, which combat with elementary nature. again, in the other element of colonization, races of men become known for what they are; the furnace has tried them all; the truth has justified itself; and if, as at some great memorial review of armies, some solemn _armilustrum_, the colonizing nations, since , were now by name called up--france would answer not at all; portugal and holland would stand apart with dejected eyes--dimly revealing the legend of _fuit ilium_; spain would be seen sitting in the distance, and, like judæa on the roman coins, weeping under her palm-tree in the vast regions of the orellana; whilst the british race would be heard upon every wind, coming on with mighty hurrahs, full of power and tumult, as some "hail-stone chorus,"[ ] and crying aloud to the five hundred millions of burmah, china, japan, and the infinite islands, to make ready their paths before them. already a ground-plan, or ichnography, has been laid down of the future colonial empire. in three centuries, already some outline has been sketched, rudely adumbrating the future settlement destined for the planet, some infant castrametation has been marked out for the future encampment of nations. enough has been already done to show the course by which the tide is to flow, to prefigure for languages their proportions, and for nations to trace their distribution. [ ] "hailstone chorus:"--handel's israel in egypt. in this movement, so far as it regards man, in this machinery for sifting and winnowing the merits of races, there is a system of marvellous means, which by its very simplicity masks and hides from us the wise profundity of its purpose. often-times, in wandering amongst the inanimate world, the philosopher is disposed to say--this plant, this mineral, this fruit, is met with so often, not because it is better than others of the same family, perhaps it is worse, but because its resources for spreading and naturalizing itself, are, by accident, greater than theirs. that same analogy he finds repeated in the great drama of colonization. it is not, says he pensively to himself, the success which measures the merit. it is not that nature, or that providence, has any final cause at work in disseminating these british children over every zone and climate of the earth. oh, no! far from it! but it is the unfair advantages of these islanders, which carry them thus potently a-head. is it so, indeed? philosopher, you are wrong. philosopher, you are envious. you speak spanish, philosopher, or even french. those advantages, which you suppose to disturb the equities of the case--were they not products of british energy? those twenty-five thousand of ships, whose graceful shadows darken the blue waters in every climate--did they build themselves? that myriad of acres, laid out in the watery cities of docks--were they sown by the rain, as the fungus or the daisy? britain _has_ advantages at this stage of the race, which make the competition no longer equal--henceforwards it has become gloriously "unfair"--but at starting we were all equal. take this truth from us, philosopher; that in such contests the power constitutes the title, the man that has the ability to go a-head, is the man entitled to go a-head; and the nation that _can_ win the place of leader, is the nation that ought to do so. this colonizing genius of the british people appears upon a grand scale in australia, canada, and, as we may remind the else forgetful world, in the united states of america; which states are our children, prosper by our blood, and have ascended to an overshadowing altitude from an infancy tended by ourselves. but on the fields of india it is, that our aptitudes for colonization have displayed themselves most illustriously, because they were strengthened by violent resistance. we found many kingdoms established, and to these we have given unity; and in process of doing so, by the necessities of the general welfare, or the mere instincts of self-preservation, we have transformed them to an empire, rising like an exhalation, of our own--a mighty monument of our own superior civilization. ceylon, as a virtual dependency of india, ranks in the same category. there also we have prospered by resistance; there also we have succeeded memorably where other nations memorably failed. of ceylon, therefore, now rising annually into importance, let us now (on occasion of this splendid book, the work of one officially connected with the island, bound to it also by affectionate ties of services rendered, not less than of unmerited persecutions suffered) offer a brief, but rememberable account; of ceylon in itself, and of ceylon in its relations historical or economic, to ourselves. mr bennett says of it, with more and less of doubt, three things--of which any one would be sufficient to detain a reader's attention; viz., . that it is the taprobane of the romans; . that it was, or has been thought to be, the paradise of scripture; . that it is "the most magnificent of the british _insular_ possessions," or in yet wider language, that it is an "incomparable colony." this last count in the pretensions of ceylon is quite indisputable; ceylon is in fact already, ceylon is at this moment, a gorgeous jewel in the imperial crown; and yet, compared with what it may be, with what it will be, with what it ought to be, ceylon is but that grain of mustard-seed which hereafter is destined to become the stately tree,[ ] where the fowls of heaven will lodge for generations. great are the promises of ceylon; great already her performances. great are the possessions of ceylon, far greater her reversions. rich she is by her developments, richer by her endowments. she combines the luxury of the tropics with the sterner gifts of our own climate. she is hot; she is cold. she is civilized; she is barbarous. she has the resources of the rich; and she has the energies of the poor. [ ] st mark, iv. , . but for taprobane, but for paradise, we have a word of dissent. mr bennett is well aware that many men in many ages have protested against the possibility that ceylon could realize _all_ the conditions involved in the ancient taprobane. milton, it is true, with other excellent scholars, has _insinuated_ his belief that probably taprobane is ceylon; when our saviour in the wilderness sees the great vision of roman power, expressed, _inter alia_, by high officers of the republic flocking to, or from, the gates of rome, and "embassies from regions far remote," crowding the appian or the emilian roads, some "from the asian kings, and parthian amongst these; from india and the golden chersonese, and utmost indian isle taprobane * * * * * dusk faces with white silken turbans wreathed;" it is probable, from the mention of this island taprobane following so closely after that of the malabar peninsula, that milton held it to be the island of ceylon, and not of sumatra. in this he does but follow the stream of geographical critics; and, upon the whole, if any one island exclusively is to be received for the roman taprobane, doubt there can be none that ceylon has the superior title. but, as we know that, in regions less remote from rome, _mona_ did not always mean the isle of man, nor _ultima thule_ uniformly the isle of skye or of st kilda--so it is pretty evident that features belonging to sumatra, and probably to other oriental islands, blended (through mutual misconceptions of the parties, questioned and questioning) into one semi-fabulous object not entirely realized in any locality whatever. the case is precisely as if cosmas indicopleustes, visiting scotland in the sixth century, should have placed the scene of any adventure in a town distant six miles from glasgow and eight miles from edinburgh. these we know to be irreconcilable conditions, such as cannot meet in any town whatever, past or present. but in such a case many circumstances might, notwithstanding, combine to throw a current of very strong suspicion upon hamilton as the town concerned. on the same principle, it is easy to see that most of those romans who spoke of taprobane had ceylon in their eye. but that all had not, and of those who really _had_, that some indicated by their facts very different islands, whilst designing to indicate ceylon, is undeniable; since, amongst other imaginary characteristics of taprobane, they make it extend considerably to the south of the line. now, with respect to ceylon, this is notoriously false; that island lies entirely in the northern tropic, and does not come within five (hardly more than six) degrees of the equator. plain it is, therefore, that taprobane, it construed very strictly, is an _ens rationis_, made up by fanciful composition from various sources, and much like our own mediæval conceit of prester john's country, or the fancies (which have but recently vanished) of the african river niger, and the golden city tombuctoo. these were lies; and yet also, in a limited sense, they were truths. they were expansions, often fabulous and impossible, engrafted upon some basis of fact by the credulity of the traveller, or subsequently by misconception of the scholar. for instance, as to tombuctoo, leo africanus had authorized men to believe in some vast african city, central to that great continent, and a focus to some mighty system of civilization. others, improving on that chimera, asserted, that this glorious city represented an inheritance derived from ancient carthage; here, it was said, survived the arts and arms of that injured state; hither, across bilidulgerid, had the children of phoenicia fled from the wrath of rome; and the mighty phantom of him whose uplifted truncheon had pointed its path to the carnage of cannæ, was still the tutelary genius watching over a vast posterity worthy of himself. here was a wilderness of lies; yet, after all, the lies were but so many voluminous _fasciæ_, enveloping the mummy of an original truth. mungo park came, and the city of tombuctoo was shown to be a real existence. seeing was believing. and yet, if, before the time of park, you had avowed a belief in tombuctoo, you would have made yourself an indorser of that huge forgery which had so long circulated through the forum of europe, and, in fact, a party to the total fraud. we have thought it right to direct the reader's eye upon this correction of the common problem as to this or that place--ceylon for example--answering to this or that classical name--because, in fact, the problem is more subtle than it appears to be. if you are asked whether you believe in the unicorn, undoubtedly you are within the _letter_ of the truth in replying that you do; for there are several varieties of large animals which carry a single horn in the forehead.[ ] but, _virtually_, by such an answer you would countenance a falsehood or a doubtful legend, since you are well aware that, in the idea of an unicorn, your questioner included the whole traditionary character of the unicorn, as an antagonist and emulator of the lion, &c.; under which fanciful description, this animal is properly ranked with the griffin, the mermaid, the basilisk, the dragon--and sometimes discussed in a supplementary chapter by the current zoologies, under the idea of heraldic and apocryphal natural history. when asked, therefore, whether ceylon is taprobane, the true answer is, not by affirmation simply, nor by negation simply, but by both at once; it is, and it is not. taprobane includes much of what belongs to ceylon, but also more, and also less. and this case is a type of many others standing in the same logical circumstances. [ ] _unicorn_: and strange it is, that, in ancient dilapidated monuments of the ceylonese, religious sculptures, &c., the unicorn of scotland frequently appears according to its true heraldic (_i.e._ fabulous) type. but, secondly, as to ceylon being the local representative of paradise, we may say, as the courteous frenchman did to dr moore, upon the doctor's apologetically remarking of a word which he had used, that he feared it was not good french--"non, monsieur, il n'est pas; mais il mérite bien l'être." certainly, if ceylon was not, at least it ought to have been, paradise; for at this day there is no place on earth which better supports the paradisiacal character (always excepting lapland, as an upsal professor observes, and wapping, as an old seaman reminds us) than this pandora of islands, which the hindoos call lanka, and europe calls ceylon. we style it the "pandora" of islands, because, as all the gods of the heathen clubbed their powers in creating that ideal woman--clothing her with perfections, and each separate deity subscribing to her dowery some separate gift--not less conspicuous, and not less comprehensive, has been the bounty of providence, running through the whole diapason of possibilities, to this all-gorgeous island. whatsoever it is that god has given by separate allotment and partition to other sections of the planet, all this he has given cumulatively and redundantly to ceylon. was she therefore happy, was ceylon happier than other regions, through this hyper-tropical munificence of her creator? no, she was not; and the reason was, because idolatrous darkness had planted curses where heaven had planted blessings; because the insanity of man had defeated the graciousness of god. but another era is dawning for ceylon; god will now countersign his other blessings, and ripen his possibilities into great harvests of realization, by superadding the one blessing of a dovelike religion; light is thickening apace, the horrid altars of moloch are growing dim; woman will no more consent to forego her birthright as the daughter of god; man will cease to be the tiger-cat that, in the _noblest_ chamber of ceylon, he has ever been; and with the new hopes that will now blossom amidst the ancient beauties of this lovely island, ceylon will but too deeply fulfill the functions of a paradise. too subtly she will lay fascinations upon man; and it will need all the anguish of disease, and the stings of death, to unloose the ties which, in coming ages, must bind the hearts of her children to this eden of the terraqueous globe. yet if, apart from all bravuras of rhetoric, mr bennett seriously presses the question regarding paradise as a question in geography, we are sorry that we must vote against ceylon, for the reason that heretofore we have pledged ourselves in print to vote in favour of cashmeer; which beautiful vale, by the way, is omitted in mr bennett's list of the candidates for that distinction already entered upon the roll. supposing the paradise of scripture to have had a local settlement upon our earth, and not in some extra-terrene orb, even in that case we cannot imagine that any thing could now survive, even so much as an angle or a curve, of its original outline. all rivers have altered their channels; many are altering them for ever.[ ] longitude and latitude might be assigned, at the most, if even those are not substantially defeated by the miltonic "pushing askance" of the poles with regard to the equinoctial. but, finally, we remark, that whereas human nature has ever been prone to the superstition of local consecrations and personal idolatries, by means of memorial relics, apparently it is the usage of god to hallow such remembrances by removing, abolishing, and confounding all traces of their punctual identities. _that_ raises them to shadowy powers. by that process such remembrances pass from the state of base sensual signs, ministering only to a sensual servitude, into the state of great ideas--mysterious as spirituality is mysterious, and permanent as truth is permanent. thus it is, and therefore it is, that paradise has vanished; luz is gone; jacob's ladder is found only as an apparition in the clouds; the true cross survives no more among the roman catholics than the true ark is mouldering upon ararat; no scholar can lay his hand upon gethsemane; and for the grave of moses the son of amram, mightiest of lawgivers, though it is somewhere near mount nebo, and in a valley of moab, yet eye has not been suffered to behold it, and "no man knoweth of his sepulchre unto this day."[ ] [ ] see dr robison on _rivers_. [ ] deut. xxxiv. . if, however as to paradise in connexion with ceylon we are forced to say "_no_," if as to taprobane in connexion with ceylon we say both "_yes_" and "_no_,"--not the less we come back with a reiterated "_yes, yes, yes_," upon ceylon as the crest and eagle's plume of the indies, as the priceless pearl, the ruby without a flaw, and (once again we say it) as the pandora of oriental islands. yet ends so glorious imply means of corresponding power; and advantages so comprehensive cannot be sustained unless by a machinery proportionately elaborate. part of this machinery lies in the miraculous climate of ceylon. climate? she has all climates. like some rare human favourite of nature, scattered at intervals along the line of a thousand years, who has been gifted so variously as to seem "not one, but all mankind's epitome," ceylon, in order that she might become capable of products without end, has been made an abstract of the whole earth, and fitted up as a _panorganon_ for modulating through the whole diatonic scale of climates. this is accomplished in part by her mountains. no island has mountains so high. it was the hideous oversight of a famous infidel in the last century, that, in supposing an eastern prince _of necessity_ to deny frost and ice as things impossible to _his_ experience, he betrayed too palpably his own non-acquaintance with the grand economies of nature. to make acquaintance with cold, and the products of cold, obviously he fancied it requisite to travel northwards; to taste of polar power, he supposed it indispensable to have advanced towards the pole. narrow was the knowledge in those days, when a master in israel might have leave to err thus grossly. whereas, at present, few are the people, amongst those not openly making profession of illiteracy, who do not know that a sultan of the tropics--ay, though his throne were screwed down by exquisite geometry to the very centre of the equator--might as surely become familiar with winter by ascending three miles in altitude, as by travelling three thousand horizontally. in that way of ascent, it is that ceylon has her regions of winter and her arctic districts. she has her alps, and she has her alpine tracts for supporting human life and useful vegetation. adam's peak, which of itself is more than seven thousand feet high, (and by repute the highest range within her shores,) has been found to rank only fifth in the mountain scale. the highest is a thousand feet higher. the maritime district, which runs round the island for a course of nine hundred miles, fanned by the sea-breezes, makes, with these varying elevations, a vast cycle of secondary combinations for altering the temperature and for _adapting_ the weather. the central region has a separate climate of its own. and an inner belt of country, neither central nor maritime, which from the sea belt is regarded as inland, but from the centre is regarded as maritime, composes another chamber of climates: whilst these again, each individually within its class, are modified into minor varieties by local circumstances as to wind, by local accidents of position, and by shifting stages of altitude. with all this compass of power, however, (obtained from its hills and its varying scale of hills,) ceylon has not much of waste ground, in the sense of being irreclaimable--for of waste ground, in the sense of being unoccupied, she has an infinity. what are the dimensions of ceylon? of all islands in this world which we know, in respect of size it most resembles ireland, being about one-sixth part less. but, for a particular reason, we choose to compare it with scotland, which is very little different in dimensions from ireland, having (by some hundred or two of square miles) a trifling advantage in extent. now, say that scotland contains a trifle more than thirty thousand square miles, the relation of ceylon to scotland will become apparent when we mention that this indian island contains about twenty-four thousand five hundred of similar square miles. twenty-four and a half to thirty--or forty-nine to sixty--there lies the ratio of ceylon to scotland. the ratio in population is not less easily remembered: scotland has _now_ (october ) hard upon three millions of people: ceylon, by a late census, has just three _half_ millions. but strange indeed, where every thing seems strange, is the arrangement of this ceylonese territory and people. take a peach: what you call the flesh of the peach, the substance which you eat, is massed orbicularly around a central stone--often as large as a pretty large strawberry. now in ceylon, the central district, answering to this peach-stone, constitutes a fierce little liliputian kingdom, quite independent, through many centuries, of the lazy belt, the peach-flesh, which swathes and enfolds it, and perfectly distinct by the character and origin of its population. the peach-stone is called kandy, and the people kandyans. these are a desperate variety of the tiger-man, agile and fierce as he is, though smooth, insinuating, and full of subtlety as a snake, even to the moment of crouching for their last fatal spring. on the other hand the people of the engirdling zone are called the cinghalese, spelled according to fancy of us authors and compositors, who legislate for the spelling of the british empire, with an s or a c. as to moral virtue, in the sense of integrity or fixed principle, there is not much lost upon either race: in that point they are "much of a muchness." they are also both respectable for their attainments in cowardice; but with this difference, that the cinghalese are soft, inert, passive cowards: but your kandyan is a ferocious little bloody coward, full of mischief as a monkey, grinning with desperation, laughing like a hyena, or chattering if you vex him, and never to be trusted for a moment. the reader now understands why we described the ceylonese man as a tiger-cat in his noblest division: for, after all, these dangerous gentlemen in the peach-stone are a more promising race than the silky and nerveless population surrounding them. you can strike no fire out of the cinghalese: but the kandyans show fight continually, and would even persist in fighting, if there were in this world no gunpowder, (which exceedingly they dislike,) and if their allowance of arrack were greater. surely this is the very strangest spectacle exhibited on earth: a kingdom within a kingdom, an _imperium in imperio_, settled and maintaining itself for centuries in defiance of all that pagan, that mahommedan, that jew, or that christian, could do. the reader will remember the case of the british envoy to geneva, who being ordered in great wrath to "quit the territories of the republic in twenty-four hours," replied, "by all means: in ten minutes." and here was a little bantam kingdom, not much bigger than the irate republic, having its separate sultan, with full-mounted establishment of peacock's feathers, white elephants, moorish eunuchs, armies, cymbals, dulcimers, and all kinds of music, tormentors, and executioners; whilst his majesty crowed defiance across the ocean to all other kings, rajahs, soldans, kesars, "flowery" emperors, and "golden-feet," east or west, be the same more or less; and really with some reason. for though it certainly _is_ amusing to hear of a kingdom no bigger than stirlingshire with the half of perthshire, standing erect and maintaining perpetual war with all the rest of scotland, a little nucleus of pugnacity, sixty miles by twenty-four, rather more than a match for the lazy lubber, nine hundred miles long, that dandled it in its arms; yet, as the trick was done, we cease to find it ridiculous. for the trick _was_ done: and that reminds us to give the history of ceylon in its two sections, which will not prove much longer than the history of tom thumb. precisely three centuries before waterloo, viz. _anno domini_ , a portuguese admiral hoisted his sovereign's flag, and formed a durable settlement at columbo, which was, and is, considered the maritime capital of the island. very nearly halfway on the interval of time between this event and waterloo, viz. in (ante-penultimate year of cromwell,) the portuguese nation made over, by treaty, this settlement to the dutch; which, of itself, seems to mark that the sun of the former people was now declining to the west. in , now forty-seven years ago, it arose out of the french revolutionary war--so disastrous for holland--that the dutch surrendered it per force to the british, who are not very likely to surrender it in _their_ turn on any terms, or at any gentleman's request. up to this time, when ceylon passed under our flag, it is to be observed that no progress whatever, not the least, had been made in mastering the peach-stone, that old central nuisance of the island. the little monster still crowed, and flapped his wings on his dunghill, as had been his custom always in the afternoon for certain centuries. but nothing on earth is immortal: even mighty bantams must have their decline and fall; and omens began to show out that soon there would be a dust with the new master at columbo. seven years after our _debut_ on that stage, the dust began. by the way, it is perhaps an impertinence to remark it, but there certainly _is_ a sympathy between the motions of the kandyan potentate and our european enemy napoleon. both pitched into _us_ in , and we pitched into both in . that we call a coincidence. how the row began was thus: some incomprehensible intrigues had been proceeding for a time between the british governor or commandant, or whatever he might be, and the kandyan prime minister. this minister, who was a noticeable man, with large grey eyes, was called _pilamé tilawé_. we write his name after mr bennett: but it is quite useless to study the pronunciation of it, seeing that he was hanged in (the year of moscow)--a fact for which we are thankful as often as we think of it. _pil_. (surely _tilawé_ cannot be pronounced garlic?) managed to get the king's head into chancery, and then fibbed him. why major-general m'dowall (then commanding our forces) should collude with pil garlic, is past our understanding. but so it was. _pil_. said that a certain prince, collaterally connected with the royal house, by name mootto sawmé, who had fled to our protection, was, or might be thought to be, the lawful king. upon which the british general proclaimed him. what followed is too shocking to dwell upon. scarcely had mootto, apparently a good creature, been inaugurated, when _pil_. proposed his deposition, to which general m'dowall consented, and his own (_pil.'s_) elevation to the throne. it is like a dream to say, that this also was agreed to. king pil. the first, and, god be thanked! the last, was raised to the--_musnud_, we suppose, or whatsoever they call it in pil.'s jargon. so far there was little but farce; now comes the tragedy. a certain major davie was placed with a very inconsiderable garrison in the capital of the kandyan empire, called by name kandy. this officer, whom mr bennett somewhere calls the "gallant," capitulated upon terms, and had the inconceivable folly to imagine that a base kandyan chief would think himself bound by these terms. one of them was--that he (major davie) and his troops should be allowed to retreat unmolested upon columbo. accordingly, fully armed and accoutred, the british troops began their march. at wattépolowa a proposal was made to major davie, that mootto sawmé (our _protégé_ and instrument) should be delivered up to the kandyan tiger. oh! sorrow for the british name! he _was_ delivered. soon after a second proposal came, that the british soldiers should deliver up their arms, and should march back to kandy. it makes an englishman shiver with indignation to hear that even this demand was complied with. let us pause for one moment. wherefore is it, that in all similar cases, in this ceylonese case, in major baillie's mysore case, in the cabool case, uniformly the privates are wiser than their officers? in a case of delicacy or doubtful policy, certainly the officers would have been the party best able to solve the difficulties; but in a case of elementary danger, where manners disappear, and great passions come upon the stage, strange it is that poor men, labouring men, men without education, always judge more truly of the crisis than men of high refinement. but this was seen by wordsworth--thus spoke he, thirty-six years ago, of germany, contrasted with the tyrol:-- "her haughty schools shall blush; and may not we with sorrow say-- a few strong instincts, and a few plain rules, among the herdsmen of the alps, have wrought more for mankind at this unhappy day than all the pride of intellect and thought." the regiment chiefly concerned was the th, (for which regiment the word _wattépolowa_, the scene of their martyrdom, became afterwards a memorial war-cry.) still, to this hour, it forces tears of wrath into our eyes when we read the recital of the case. a dozen years ago we first read it in a very interesting book, published by the late mr blackwood--the life of alexander. this alexander was not personally present at the bloody catastrophe; but he was in ceylon at the time, and knew the one sole fugitive[ ] from that fatal day. the soldiers of the th, not even in that hour of horror, forgot their discipline, or their duty, or their respectful attachment to their officers. when they were ordered to ground their arms, (oh, base idiot that could issue such an order!) they remonstrated most earnestly, but most respectfully. major davie, agitated and distracted by the scene, himself recalled the order. the men resumed their arms. alas! again the fatal order was issued; again it was recalled; but finally, it was issued peremptorily. the men sorrowfully obeyed. we hurry to the odious conclusion. in parties of twos and of threes, our brave countrymen were called out by the horrid kandyan tiger cats. disarmed by the frenzy of their moonstruck commander, what resistance could they make? one after one the parties, called out to suffer, were decapitated by the executioner. the officers, who had refused to give up their pistols, finding what was going on, blew out their brains with their own hands, now too bitterly feeling how much wiser had been the poor privates than themselves. at length there was stillness on the field. night had come on. all were gone-- "and darkness was the buryer of the dead." [ ] _fugitive_, observe. there were some others, and amongst them major davie, who, for private reasons, were suffered to survive as prisoners. the reader may recollect a most picturesque murder near manchester, about thirteen or fourteen years ago, perpetrated by two brothers named mckean, where a servant woman, whose throat had been effectually cut, rose up, after an interval, from the ground at a most critical moment, (so critical, that, by that act, and at that second of time, she drew off the murderer's hand from the throat of a second victim,) staggered, in her delirium, to the door of a room where sometime a club had been held, doubtless under some idea of obtaining aid, and at the door, after walking some fifty feet, dropped down dead. not less astonishing was the resurrection, as it might be called, of an english corporal, cut, mangled, remangled, and left without sign of life. suddenly he rose up, stiff and gory; dying and delirious, as he felt himself, with misery from exhaustion and wounds, he swam rivers, threaded enemies, and moving day and night, came suddenly upon an army of kandyans; here he prepared himself with pleasure for the death that now seemed inevitable, when, by a fortunate accident, for want of a fitter man, he was selected as an ambassador to the english officer commanding a kandyan garrison--and thus once more escaped miraculously. sometimes, when we are thinking over the great scenes of tragedy through which europe passed from to , suddenly, from the bosom of utter darkness, a blaze of light arises; a curtain is drawn up; a saloon is revealed. we see a man sitting there alone, in an attitude of alarm and expectation. what does he expect? what is it that he fears? he is listening for the chariot-wheels of a fugitive army. at intervals he raises his head--and we know him now for the abbé de pradt--the place, warsaw--the time, early in december . all at once the rushing of cavalry is heard; the door is thrown open; a stranger enters. we see, as in cornelius agrippa's mirror, his haggard features; it is a momentary king, having the sign of a felon's death written secretly on his brow; it is murat; he raises his hands with a gesture of horror as he advances to m. l'abbé. we hear his words--_"l'abbé, all is lost!"_ even so, when the english soldier, reeling from his anguish and weariness, was admitted into the beleaguered fortress, his first words, more homely in expression than murat's, were to the same dreadful purpose--"your honour," he said, "all is dished;" and this being uttered by way of prologue, he then delivered himself of the message with which he had been charged, and _that_ was a challenge from the kandyan general to come out and fight without aid from his artillery. the dismal report was just in time; darkness was then coming on. the english officer spiked his guns; and, with his garrison, fled by night from a fort in which else he would have perished by starvation or by storm, had kandyan forces been equal to such an effort. this corporal was, strictly speaking, the only man who _escaped_, one or two other survivors having been reserved as captives, for some special reasons. of this captive party was major davie, the commander, whom mr bennett salutes by the title of "gallant," and regrets that "the strong arm of death" had intercepted his apology. he could have made no apology. plea or palliation he had none. to have polluted the british honour in treacherously yielding up to murder (and absolutely for nothing in return) a prince, whom we ourselves had seduced into rebellion--to have forced his men and officers into laying down their arms, and sueing for the mercy of wretches the most perfidious on earth; these were acts as to which atonement or explanation was hopeless for _him_, forgiveness impossible for england. so this man is to be called "the gallant"--is he? we will thank mr bennett to tell us, who was that officer subsequently seen walking about in ceylon, no matter whether in western columbo, or in eastern trincomalé, long enough for reaping his dishonour, though, by accident, not for a court-martial? behold, what a curse rests in this british island upon those men, who, when the clock of honour has sounded the hour for their departure, cannot turn their dying eyes nobly to the land of their nativity--stretch out their hands to the glorious island in farewell homage, and say with military pride--as even the poor gladiators (who were but slaves) said to cæsar, when they passed his chair to their death "morituri te salutamus!" this man and mr bennett knows it, because he was incrusted with the leprosy of cowardice, and because upon him lay the blood of those to whom he should have been _in loco parentis_, made a solitude wherever he appeared, men ran from him as from an incarnation of pestilence; and between him and free intercourse with his countrymen, from the hour of his dishonour in the field, to the hour of his death, there flowed a river of separation--there were stretched lines of interdict heavier than ever pope ordained--there brooded a schism like that of death, a silence like that of the grave; making known for ever the deep damnation of the infamy, which on this earth settles upon the troubled resting-place of him, who, through cowardice, has shrunk away from his duty, and, on the day of trial, has broken the bond which bound him to his country. surely there needed no arrear of sorrow to consummate this disaster. yet two aggravations there were, which afterwards transpired, irritating the british soldiers to madness. one was soon reported, viz. that sick or wounded men, lying in an hospital, had been massacred without a motive, by the children of hell with whom we were contending. the other was not discovered until . then first it became known, that in the whole stores of the kandyan government, (_à fortiori_ then in the particular section of the kandyan forces which we faced,) there had not been more gunpowder remaining at the hour of major davie's infamous capitulation than lbs. avoirdupois; other munitions of war having been in the same state of bankruptcy. five minutes more of resistance, one inspiration of english pluck, would have placed the kandyan army in our power--would have saved the honour of the country--would have redeemed our noble soldiers--and to major davie, would have made the total difference between lying in a traitor's grave, and lying in westminster abbey. was there no vengeance, no retribution, for these things? vengeance there was, but by accident. retribution there was, but partial and remote. infamous it was for the english government at columbo, as mr bennett insinuates, that having a large fund disposable annually for secret service, between and , such a rupture _could_ have happened and have found us unprepared. equally infamous it was, that summary chastisement was not inflicted upon the perfidious court of kandy. what _real_ power it had, when unaided by villainy amongst ourselves, was shown in , in the course of which year, one brave officer, lieutenant johnstone of the th, with no more than men, including officers, marched right through the country, in the teeth of all opposition from the king, and resolutely took[ ] kandy in his route. however, for the present, without a shadow of a reason, since all reasons ran in the other direction, we ate our leek in silence; once again, but now for the last time, the bloody little bantam crowed defiance from his dunghill, and tore the british flag with his spurs. what caused his ruin at last, was literally the profundity of our own british humiliation; had _that_ been less, had it not been for the natural reaction of that spectacle, equally hateful and incredible, upon barbarian chief, as ignorant as he was fiendish, he would have returned a civil answer to our subsequent remonstrances. in that case, our government would have been conciliated; and the monster's son, who yet lives in malabar, would now be reigning in his stead. but _diis aliter visum est_--earth was weary of this kandyan nuisance, and the infatuation, which precipitated its doom, took the following shape. in , certain traders, ten in number, not british but cinghalese, and therefore british subjects, entitled to british protection, were wantonly molested in their peaceable occupations by this kandyan king. three of these traders one day returned to our frontier wearing upon necklaces, inextricably attached to their throats, their own ears, noses, and other parts of their own persons, torn away by the pincers of the kandyan executioners. the seven others had sunk under their sufferings. observe that there had been no charge or imputation against these men, more or less: _stet proratione voluntas_. this was too much even for our all-suffering[ ] english administration. they sent off a kind of expostulation, which amounted to this--"how now, my good sir? what are you up to?" fortunately for his miserable subjects, (and, as this case showed, by possibility for many who were _not_ such,) the vain-glorious animal returned no answer; not because he found any diplomatic difficulty to surmount, but in mere self glorification, and in pure disdain of _us_. what a commentary was _that_ upon our unspeakable folly up to that hour! [ ] "_took_ kandy in his route." this phrase is equivocal, it bears two senses--the traveller's sense, and the soldier's. but _we_ rarely make such errors in the use of words; the error is original in the government documents themselves. [ ] why were they "all-suffering?" will be the demand of the reader, and he will doubt the fact simply because he will not apprehend any sufficient motive. that motive we believe to have been this: war, even just or necessary war, is costly; now, the governor and his council knew that their own individual chances of promotion were in the exact ratio of the economy which they could exhibit. we are anxious that the reader should go along with the short remainder of this story, because it bears strongly upon the true moral of our eastern policy, of which, hereafter, we shall attempt to unfold the casuistry, in a way that will be little agreeable to the calumniators of clive and hastings. we do not intend that these men shall have it all their own way in times to come. our eastern rulers have erred always, and erred deeply, by doing too little rather than too much. they have been _too_ long-suffering; and have tolerated many nuisances, and many miscreants, when their duty was--when their power was--to have destroyed them for ever. and the capital fault of the east india company--that greatest benefactor for the east that ever yet has arisen--has been in not publishing to the world the grounds and details of their policy. let this one chapter in that policy, this kandyan chapter, proclaim how great must have been the evils from which our "usurpations" (as they are called) have liberated the earth. for let no man dwell on the rarity, or on the limited sphere, of such atrocities, even in eastern despotisms. if the act be rare, is not the anxiety eternal? if the personal suffering be transitory, is not the outrage upon human sensibilities, upon the majesty of human nature, upon the possibilities of light, order, commerce, civilization, of a duration and a compass to make the total difference between man viler than the brutes, and man a little lower than the angels? it happened that the first noble, or "adikar," of the kandyan king, being charged with treason at this time, had fled to our protection. that was enough. vengeance on _him_, in his proper person, had become impossible: and the following was the vicarious vengeance adopted by god's vicegerent upon earth, whose pastime it had long been to study the ingenuities of malice, and the possible refinements in the arts of tormenting. here follows the published report on this one case:--"the ferocious miscreant determined to be fully revenged, and immediately sentenced the adikar's wife and children, together with his brother and the brother's wife, to death after the following fashion. the children were ordered to be decapitated before their mother's face, and their heads to be pounded in a rice-mortar by their mother's hands; which, to save herself from a diabolical torture and exposure," (concealments are here properly practised in the report, for the sake of mere human decency,) "she submitted to attempt. the eldest boy shrunk (shrank) from the dread ordeal, and clung to his agonized parent for safety; but his younger brother stepped forward, and encouraged him to submit to his fate, placing himself before the executioner by way of setting an example. the last of the children to be beheaded was an infant at the breast, from which it was forcibly torn away, and its mother's milk was dripping from its innocent mouth as it was put into the hands of the grim executioner." finally, the adikar's brother was executed, having no connexion (so much as alleged) with his brother's flight; and then the two sisters-in-law, having stones attached to their feet, were thrown into a tank. these be thy gods, o egypt! such are the processes of kandyan law, such is its horrid religion, and such the morality which it generates! and let it not be said, these were the excesses of a tyrant. man does not brutalize, by possibility, in pure insulation. he gives, and he receives. it is by sympathy, by the contagion of example, by reverberation of feelings, that every man's heart is moulded. a prince, to have been such as this monster, must been bred amongst a cruel people: a cruel people, as by other experience we know them to be, naturally produce an inhuman prince, and such a prince reproduces his own corrupters. vengeance, however, was now at hand: a better and more martial governor, sir robert brownrigg, was in the field since . on finding that no answer was forthcoming, he marched with all his forces. but again these were inadequate to the service; and once again, as in , we were on the brink of being sacrificed to the very lunacies of retrenchment. by a mere godsend, more troops happened to arrive from the indian continent. we marched in triumphal ease to the capital city of kandy. the wicked prince fled: major kelly pursued him--to pursue was to overtake--to overtake was to conquer. thirty-seven ladies of his _zenana_, and his mother, were captured elsewhere: and finally the whole kingdom capitulated by a solemn act, in which we secured to it what we had no true liberty to secure, viz. the _inviolability_ of their horrid idolatries. render unto cæsar the things which are cæsar's--but this was _not_ cæsar's. whether in some other concessions, whether in volunteering certain civil privilages of which the conquered had never dreamed, and which, for many a long year they will not understand, our policy were right or wrong--may admit of much debate. often-times, but not always, it is wise and long-sighted policy to presume in nations higher qualities than they have, and developments beyond what really exist. but as to religion, there can be no doubt, and no debate at all. to exterminate their filthy and bloody abominations of creed and of ritual practice, is the first step to any serious improvement of the kandyan people: it is the _conditio sine quâ non_ of all regeneration for this demoralized race. and what we ought to have promised, all that in mere civil equity we had the right to promise; was--that we would _tolerate_ such follies, would make no war upon such superstitions as should not be openly immoral. one word more than this covenant was equally beyond the powers of one party to that covenant, and the highest interests of all parties. philosophically speaking, this great revolution may not close perhaps for centuries: historically, it closed about the opening of the hundred days in the _annus mirabilis_ of waterloo. on the th of february , kandy, the town, was occupied by the british troops, never again to be resigned. in march, followed the solemn treaty by which all parties assumed their constitutional stations. in april, occurred the ceremonial part of the revolution, its public notification and celebration, by means of a grand processional entry into the capital, stretching for upwards of a mile; and in january , the late king, now formally deposed, "a stout, good-looking malabar, with a peculiarly keen and roving eye, and a restlessness of manner, marking unbridled passions," was conveyed in the governor's carriage to the jetty at trincomalee, from which port h.m.s. mexico conveyed him to the indian continent: he was there confined in the fortress of vellore, famous for the bloody mutiny amongst the company's sepoy troops, so bloodily suppressed. in vellore, this cruel prince, whose name was sree wickremé rajah singha, died some years after; and one son whom he left behind him, born during his father's captivity, may still be living. but his ambitious instincts, if any such are working within him, are likely to be seriously baffled in the very outset by the precautions of our diplomacy; for one article of the treaty proscribes the descendants of this prince as enemies of ceylon, if found within its precincts. in this exclusion, pointed against a single family, we are reminded of the stuart dynasty in england, and the bonaparte dynasty in france. we cannot, however, agree with mr bennett's view of this parallelism--either in so far as it points our pity towards napoleon, or in so far as it points the regrets of disappointed vengeance to the similar transportation of sree. pity is misplaced upon napoleon, and anger is wasted upon sree. he ought to have been hanged, says mr bennett; and so said many of napoleon. but it was not our mission to punish either. the malabar prince had broken no faith with _us_: he acted under the cursed usages of a cruel people and a bloody religion. these influences had trained a bad heart to corresponding atrocities. courtesy we did right to pay him, for our own sakes as a high and noble nation. what we could not punish judicially, it did not become us to revile. and finally, we much doubt whether hanging upon a tree, either in napoleon's case or sree's, would not practically have been found by both a happy liberation from that bitter cup of mortification which both drank off in their latter years. at length, then, the entire island of ceylon, about a hundred days before waterloo, had become ours for ever. hereafter ceylon must inseparably attend the fortunes of india. whosoever in the east commands the sea, must command the southern empires of asia; and he who commands those empires, must for ever command the oriental islands. one thing only remains to be explained; and the explanation, we fear, will be harder to understand than the problem: it is--how the portuguese and dutch failed, through nearly three centuries, to master this little obstinate _nucleus_ of the peach. it seems like a fairy tale to hear the answer: sinbad has nothing wilder. "they were," says mr bennett, "repeatedly masters of the capital." what was it, then, that stopped them from going on? "at one period, the former (_i.e._ the portuguese) had conquered all but the impregnable position called _kandi udda_." and what was it then that lived at kandi udda? the dragon of wantley? or the dun cow of warwick? or the classical hydra? no; it was thus:--_kandi_ was "in the centre of the mountainous region, surrounded by impervious jungles, with secret approaches for only one man at a time." such tricks might have answered in the time of ali baba and the forty thieves; but we suspect that, even then, an "_open sesame_" would have been found for this pestilent defile. smoking a cigar through it, and dropping the sparks, might have done the business in the dry season. but, in very truth, we imagine that political arrangements were answerable for this long failure in checkmating the king, and not at all the cunning passage which carried only one inside passenger. the portuguese permitted the kandyan natives to enter their army; and that one fact gives us a short solution of the case. for, as mr bennett observes, the principal features of these kandyans are merely "human imitations of their own indigenous leopards--treachery and ferocity," as the circumstances may allow them to profit by one or the other. sugarcandy, however, appears to have given very little trouble to _us_; and, at all events, it is ours now, together with all that is within its gates. it is proper, however, to add, that since the conquest of this country in , there have been three rebellions, viz. in - , in , and finally in . this last comes pretty well home to our own times and concerns; so that we naturally become curious as to the causes of such troubles. the two last are said to have been inconsiderable in their extent. but the earlier of the three, which broke out so soon after the conquest as , must, we conceive, have owed something to intrigues promoted on behalf of the exiled king. his direct lineal descendants are excluded, as we have said, from the island for ever; but his relatives, by whom we presume to be meant his _cognati_ or kinspeople in the female line, not his _agnati_, are allowed to live in kandy, suffering only the slight restriction of confinement to one street out of five, which compose this ancient metropolis. meantime, it is most instructive to hear the secret account of those causes which set in motion this unprincipled rebellion. for it will thus be seen how hopeless it is, under the present idolatrous superstition of ceylon, to think of any attachment in the people, by means of good government, just laws, agriculture promoted, or commerce created. more stress will be laid, by the ceylonese, on our worshipping a carious tooth two inches long, ascribed to the god buddha, (but by some to an ourang-outang,) than to every mode of equity, good faith, or kindness. it seems that the kandyans and we reciprocally misunderstood the ranks, orders, precedencies, titular distinctions, and external honours attached to them in our several nations. but none are so deaf as those that have no mind to hear. and we suspect that our honest fellows of the th regiment, whose comrades had been murdered in their beds by the cursed kandyan "nobles," neither did nor would understand the claim of such assassins to military salutes, to the presenting of arms, or to the turning out of the guard. here, it is said, began the ill-blood, and also on the claim of the buddhist priests to similar honours. to say the simple truth, these soldiers ought not to have been expected to show respect towards the murderers of their brethren. the priests, with their shaven crowns and yellow robes, were objects of mere mockery to the british soldier. "not to have been kicked," it should have been said, "is gain; not to have been cudgeled, is for you a ground of endless gratitude. look not for salutes; dream not of honours." for our own part--again we say it--let the government look a-head for endless insurrections. we tax not the rulers of ceylon with having caused the insurrections. we hold them blameless on that head; for a people so fickle and so unprincipled will never want such matter for rebellion as would be suspected, least of all, by a wise and benevolent man. but we _do_ tax the local government with having ministered to the possibility of rebellion. we british have not sowed the ends and objects of conspiracies; but undoubtedly, by our lax administration, we have sowed the _means_ of conspiracies. we must not transfer to a pagan island our own mild code of penal laws: the subtle savage will first become capable of these, when he becomes capable of christianity. and to this we must now bend our attention. government must make no more offerings of musical clocks to the pagan temples; for such propitiations are understood by the people to mean--that we admit their god to be naturally stronger than ours. any mode or measure of excellence but that of power, they understand not, as applying to a deity. neither must our government any longer wink at such monstrous practices as that of children ejecting their dying parents, in their last struggles, from the shelter of their own roofs, on the plea that death would pollute their dwellings. such compliances with paganism, make pagans of ourselves. nor, again, ought the professed worship of devils to be tolerated, more than the fetish worship, or the african witchcraft, was tolerated in the west indies. having, at last, obtained secure possession of the entire island, with no reversionary fear over our heads, (as, up to waterloo, we always had,) that possibly at a general peace we might find it diplomatically prudent to let it return under dutch possession, we have no excuse for any longer neglecting the jewel in our power. we gave up to holland, through unwise generosity, already one splendid island, viz. java. let one such folly suffice for one century. for the same reason--namely, the absolute and undivided possession which we now hold of the island--it is at length time that our home government should more distinctly invite colonists, and make known the unrivaled capabilities of this region. so vast are our colonial territories, that for every class in our huge framework of society we have separate and characteristic attractions. in some it is chiefly labour that is wanted, capital being in excess. in others these proportions are reversed. in some it is great capitalists that are wanted for the present; in others almost exclusively small ones. now, in ceylon, either class will be welcome. it ought also to be published every where, that immediately after the conquest of kandy, the government entered upon the roman career of civilization, and upon that also which may be considered peculiarly british. military roads were so carried as to pierce and traverse all the guilty fastnesses of disease, and of rebellion by means of disease. bridges, firmly built of satin-wood, were planted over every important stream. the kirimé canal was completed in the most eligible situation. the english institution of mail-coaches was perfected in all parts of the island. at this moment there are three separate modes of itinerating through the island--viz., by mail-coach, by buggy, or by palanquin; to say nothing of the opportunities offered at intervals, along the maritime provinces, for coasting by ships or boats. to the botanist, the mineralogist, the naturalist, the sportsman, ceylon offers almost a virgin eldorado. to a man wishing to combine the lucrative pursuits of the colonist with the elegances of life, and with the comforts of compatriot society, not (as in australia, or in american back settlements) to weather the hardships of robinson crusoe, the invitations from the infinite resources of ceylon are past all count or estimate. "for my own part," says mr bennett, who is _now_ a party absolutely disinterested, "having visited all but the northern regions of the globe, i have seen nothing to equal this incomparable country." here a man may purchase land, with secure title, and of a good tenure, at five shillings the acre; this, at least, is the upset price, though in some privileged situations it is known to have reached seventeen shillings. a house may be furnished in the morotto style, and with luxurious contrivances for moderating the heat in the hotter levels of the island, at fifty pounds sterling. the native furniture is both cheap and excellent in quality, every way superior, intrinsically, to that which, at five times the cost, is imported from abroad. labour is pretty uniformly at the rate of six-pence english for twelve hours. provisions of every sort and variety are poured out in ceylon from an american _cornucopia_ of some saturnian age. wheat, potatoes, and many esculent plants, or fruits, were introduced by the british in the great year, (and for this island, in the most literal sense, the era of a new earth and new heavens)--the year of waterloo. from that year dates, for the ceylonese, the day of equal laws for rich and poor, the day of development out of infant and yet unimproved advantages; finally--if we are wise, and they are docile--the day of a heavenly religion displacing the _avowed_ worship of devils, and giving to the people a new nature, a new heart, and hopes as yet not dawning upon their dreams. how often has it been said by the vile domestic calumniators of british policy, by our own anti-national deceivers, that if tomorrow we should leave india, no memorial would attest that ever we had been there. infamous falsehood! damnable slander! speak, ceylon, to _that_. true it is, that the best of our gifts--peace, freedom, security, and a new standard of public morality--these blessings are like sleep, like health, like innocence, like the eternal revolutions of day and night, which sink inaudibly into human hearts, leaving behind (as sweet vernal rains) no flaunting records of ostentation and parade; we are not the nation of triumphal arches and memorial obelisks; but the sleep, the health, the innocence, the grateful vicissitudes of seasons, reproduce themselves in fruits and products enduring for generations, and overlooked by the slanderer only because they are too diffusive to be noticed as extraordinary, and benefiting by no light of contrast, simply because our own beneficence has swept away the ancient wretchedness that could have furnished that contrast. ceylon, of itself, can reply victoriously to such falsehoods. not yet fifty years have we held this island; not yet thirty have we had the _entire_ possession of the island; and (what is more important to a point of this nature) not yet thirty have we had that secure possession which results from the consciousness that our government is not meditating to resign it. previously to waterloo, our tenure of ceylon was a provisional tenure. with the era of our kandyan conquest coincides the era of our absolute appropriation, signed and countersigned for ever. the arrangements, of that day at paris, and by a few subsequent congresses of revision, are like the arrangements of westphalia in --valid until christendom shall be again convulsed to her foundations. from that date is, therefore, justly to be inaugurated our english career of improvement. of the roads laid open through the island, we have spoken. the attempts at improvement of the agriculture and horticulture furnish matter already for a romance, if told of any other than this wonderful labyrinth of climates. the openings for commercial improvement are not less splendid. it is a fact infamous to the ceylonese, that an island, which might easily support twenty millions of people, has been liable to famine, not unfrequently, with a population of fifteen hundred thousand. this has already ceased to be a possibility: is _that_ a blessing of british rule? not only many new varieties of rice have been introduced, and are now being introduced, adapted to opposite extremes of weather: and soil--some to the low grounds warm and abundantly irrigated, some to the dry grounds demanding far less of moisture--but also other and various substitutes have been presented to ceylon. manioc, maize, the potato, the turnip, have all been cultivated. mr bennett himself would, in ancient greece, have had many statues raised to his honour for his exemplary bounties of innovation. the food of the people is now secure. and, as regard their clothing or their exports, there is absolutely no end to the new prospects opened before them by the english. is _cotton_ a british gift? is sugar? is coffee? we are not the men lazily and avariciously to anchor our hopes on a pearl fishery; we rouse the natives to cultivate their salt fish and shark fisheries. tea will soon be cultivated more hopefully than in assam. sugar, coffee, cinnamon, pepper, are all cultivated already. silk worms and mulberry-trees were tried with success, and opium with _virtual_ success, (though in that instance defeated by an accident,) under the auspices of mr bennett. hemp (and surely it is wanted?) will be introduced abundantly: indigo is not only grown in plenty, but it appears that a beautiful variety of indigo, a violet-coloured indigo, exists as a weed in ceylon. finally, in the running over hastily the _summa genera_ of products by which ceylon will soon make her name known to the ends of the earth, we may add, that salt provisions in every kind, of which hitherto ceylon did not furnish an ounce, will now be supplied redundantly; the great mart for this will be in the vast bosom of the indian ocean; and at the same time we shall see the scandal wiped away--that ceylon, the headquarters of the british navy in the east, could not supply a cock-boat in distress with a week's salt provisions, from her own myriads of cattle, zebus, buffaloes, or cows. ceylon has this one disadvantage for purposes of theatrical effect; she is like a star rising heliacally, and hidden in the blaze of the sun: any island, however magnificent, becomes lost in the blaze of india. but _that_ does not affect the realities of the case. she has _that_ within which passes show. her one calamity is in the laziness of her native population; though in this respect the kandyans are a more hopeful race than the cinghalese. but the evil for both is, that they want the _motives_ to exertion. these will be created by a new and higher civilization. foreign labourers will also be called for; a mixed race will succeed in the following generations; and a mixed breed in man is always an improved breed. witness every where the people of colour contrasted with the blacks. then will come the great race between man indefinitely exalted, and glorious tropical nature indefinitely developed. ceylon will be born again, in our hands she will first answer to the great summons of nature; and will become, in fact, what by providential destiny, she is--the queen lotus of the indian seas, and the pandora of islands. * * * * * commercial policy. ships, colonies, and commerce. in our september number, we succeeded in establishing the fact, upon the best official records which could be accessible either to ourselves or to mr cobden, that the renowned leaguer had magnified that portion of the army estimates, or expenditure, falling properly under the lead of colonial charge, by about thirty-five per cent beyond its real amount, as tested _seriatim_ and starting upon his own arithmetical elements of gross numbers and values. we arrived at the truth by the careful process of dissecting, analysing, and classifying, under each colonial head, the various items of which his gross sum of aggregates must necessarily be composed; and the result was, that of the _four millions and a-half sterling_, with such dauntless assurance set down as the proportion of army charge incurred for the colonies by the parent state, it was found, and proved in detail by official returns, colony by colony, and summed up in tabular array at the close, that the very conscientiously calculating leaguer had made no scruple, under his lumping system, of overlaying colonial trade with upwards of one million and a half of army expenditure, one million and a quarter of which, in all probability, appertaining to, and forming part of the cost nationally at which foreign trade was carried on. the cunning feat was bravely accomplished by ranging gibraltar, malta, &c. &c., as trading and producing colonies, for the purpose of swelling out the colonial army cost; whilst, to complete the cheat cleverly, they were again turned to account in his comparative statistics of foreign and colonial trade, to the detriment of the latter, by carrying all the commerce with, or through them, to the credit of foreign trade. this was ringing the changes to one tune with some effect, for the time being--and so astutely timed and intended, that no discussion could be taken in the house of commons upon the informal motion, serving as the peg on which to hang the prepared speech of deceptive figures and assertions inflicted on the house the d of june last; whilst thus, as the leaguer shrewdly anticipated, it might run uncontroverted for months to come until another session, and, through _anti-corn-law circulars_ and tracts of the league, do the dirty work of the time for which concocted, when no matter how consigned and forgotten afterwards among the numberless other lies of the day, fabricated by the league. unluckily for the crafty combination, _blackwood_ was neither slow to detect, nor tardy in unmasking, the premeditated imposture, the crowning and final points of which we now propose to deal with and demolish. betwixt the relative importance in the cost, and in the profit and loss sense, of foreign and colonial trade, on which the question of the advantages or disadvantages attending the possession or retention of colonies is made exclusively to hinge, with a narrow-mindedness incapable of appreciating the other high political and social interests, the moral and religious considerations, moreover, involved--we shall now proceed with the task of arbitrating and striking the balance. if that balance should little correspond with the bold and unscrupulous allegations of mr cobden--if it should be found to derogate from the assumed super-eminence of the foreign trading interest over the colonial, let it be remembered that the invidious discussion was not raised by us, nor by any member of the legislature who can rightfully be classed as the representative of great national and constitutional principles; that the distinction and disjunction of interests, both national, with the absurd attempt unduly to elevate the one by unjustly depreciating the other, is the work of the league alone, which, having originated the senseless cry of "class interests," would seem doggedly determined to establish the fact, _per fas et nefas_, as the means of funding and perpetuating class divisions. in our last number, we left mr cobden's sum total of army expenditure for colonial account charged by him, at l. , , reduced by deductions for military and other stations, maintained for the protection and promotion of foreign trade, for the suppression of slave dealing, and as penal colonies, in the total amount of-- , , ---------- to apparent colonial charge, -- l. , , we have, however, to reform this statement, so far as mr cobden's basis upon which founded. accustomed to his blunders undesigned and mistatements intentional as we are, it is not always easy to ascertain their extent at the moment. thus, the army estimates for , amounting to l. , , in the whole, as he states, include a charge of, say about l. , , for "half-pay, pensions, superannuations, &c.," for upwards of , officers and men. this fact it suited his convenience to overlook. now, of this number of men it is not perhaps too much to assume, that more than one-half consists of the noble wreck and remainder of those magnificent armies led to victory by the illustrious wellington, but certainly not in the colonies, and the present cost of half-pay and invaliding not therefore chargeable to colonial account. it may be taken for granted, that at least to the amount of l. , , should be placed against ancient foreign service, separate from colonial; whilst, for the balance, home, foreign, and colonial service since the war may be admitted to enter in certain proportions each. deducting, in the first place, from the total estimates of, say l. , , the "dead-weight" of pensions, &c., , , ---------- we have, as expenditure for military force on foot, l. , , , but say-- l. , , taking the cobden dictum of three-fourths of this charge for the colonies, we have in round numbers, say-- , , ---------- and the incredibly absurd sum left for home and foreign service of l. , , as we have, in our last number, established deductions from the gross sum of l. , , put down to the colonies by mr cobden, to the amount of l. , , , we shall now remodel our table thus:-- to colonial account, as per mr cobden, of active force,-- l. , , add colonial proportion of half-pay, pensions, &c., as per id., three-fourths of l. , , , ---------- l. , , deduct military and other stations, falsely called colonial, as per former account,-- l. , , deduct again charges for the chinese war, exact amount unknown, deceptively included in colonial account--say for only , --------- , , ---------- approximate, but still surcharged proportion of army estimates for colonial service, on mr cobden's absurd basis of three-fourths, l. , , this is a woful falling off from mr cobden's wholesale colonial invoice of _four and a half millions sterling_! it amounts to a discount or rebate upon his statistical ware of l. , , , or say, not far short of sixty per cent. had the leaguer been in the habit of dealing cotton wares to his customers, so damaged in texture or colours as are his wares political and economical, we are inclined to conceit, that he would long since have arrived at the _finiquito de todas cuentas_. we now come to his naval cost of colonies, with a margin for ordnance as well. on this head, mr cobden remarks, with much sagacity--and, for once, mr cobden states one fact in which we may agree with him:--"but the colonies had no ships to form a navy. the mother country had to send them ships to guard their territories, which were not paid for by the colonies, but out of the taxation of this country. the navy estimates for this year amounted to l. , , . he had no means of ascertaining what proportion of this large amount was required for their colonies; but a very large proportion of it was taken for the navy in their colonies. the ordnance estimate was l. , , , a large share of which was required for their colonial expenditure. the house would find, that from the lowest estimate, from l. , , to l. , , out of the taxes of this country were required for maintaining their colonial army and navy." true it is, the colonies have no ships of war; true, the navy expenses count for the gigantic sum stated--in the estimates at least, and estimates seldom fall short, however budgets may; true, also, that ordnance is the heavy item represented. and we also are without the means for any, not to say accurate, but fair approximative estimate of the proportion of this expenditure which may be incurred for, and duly chargeable against the colonies. in the case of the army, as we have shown, the possession and facilities of reference to documents, enabled us to resolve mr cobden's bill of totals, in one line, into the elements of which composed, to classify the items under distinct heads, and so to detect the errors, and redress the balance of his own account. the authorities, of official origin mostly, to which we had recourse, were equally open to cobden, had he been actuated by an anxious desire to arrive at the truth, earnest in his enquiries after the means of information, laborious in his investigations, and, beyond all, with honesty of purpose resolved nothing to withhold, nor aught to set down in malice, as the result of his researches. unfortunately, the navy is not a stationary body, as the army may be said to be; squadrons are not fixtures like corps in garrison; here to-day and gone to morrow. the naval strength on the various stations, never permanent, escapes calculation, as the due apportionment of expenditure between each, and again of the quotas corresponding to the colonies or to foreign commerce alone, defies any approach to accurate analysis. but we have at least common observation and common sense to satisfy us that but a small proportion of the naval outlay can be justly laid to colonial account, because so unimportant a proportion of the naval armament afloat, can be required for colonial service or defence. we have, assuredly, a certain number of gun-boats and schooners on the canadian lakes, which are purely for colonial purposes; and we may have some half-a-dozen vessels of war prowling about the st lawrence and the british american waters, which may range under the colonial category. wherever else our eyes be cast, it would be difficult to find one colony, east or west, which can be said to need, or gratuitously to be favoured with, a naval force for protection. we have a naval station at halifax chargeable colonially. we have also a naval station, with headquarters at jamaica, but certainly that forms no part of a colonial appendage. the whole of the force on that station is employed either in cruizing after slavers, and assisting to put down the slave trade, or it is hovering about the shores of the spanish main and the gulf of mexico, for the protection of british foreign commerce, for redressing the wrongs to british subjects and interests in colombia, guatemala, mexico, cuba, or hayti, or for conveying foreign specie and bullion from those countries for the behoof of british merchants at home. we have a naval station at the cape of good hope, with the maintenance of which, that colony, australia, new zealand, &c., may be partly debited. and we have a naval station in india, the expense of which, so far as required for that great colonial empire, is, we believe, borne entirely by india herself. but by far the largest proportion of the expense is incurred, as the great bulk of the force is destined, for the protection of foreign commerce in the indian and chinese seas. if we are to seek where the british navy is really to be found and heard of in masses, we have only to voyage to brazil, where whole squadrons divide their occupations betwixt coursing slavers and waiting upon foreign commerce. further south, we find the river plate blocked up with british war ships, watching over the interests of british commerce, and interposing betwixt the lives and properties of thousands of british subjects, and the unslaked thirst of the daggers of rosas and his sanguinary _mas-horcas_, that �gis flag before which the most fearless and ferocious have quailed, and quail yet. so also, rounding cape horn, traversing the vast waters of the great pacific, the british ensign may ever be met, and swarming, too, on those west and northwestern coasts of spanish america, where, as from bolivia to california, war and anarchy eternal seem to reign. assuredly, no colonial interests, and as little do political combinations, carry to those far off regions, and there keep, such large detachments of the british fleet. nearer home we need not signalize the mediterranean and levant, where british navies range as if hereditary owners of those seas nor the western coasts of spain, along which duly cruise our men-of-war, keeping watch and ward; certainly in neither one case nor the other for colonial objects. from this sweep over the seas, it may readily be gathered how comparatively insignificant the proportion in which the british colonies are amenable for the cost of the british navy; and, on the contrary, how large the cost incurred for the guardianship of the foreign commerce of great britain. in the absence of those authentic data which would warrant the construction of approximate estimates, we are willing, however, as before, to accept the basis of mr cobden's--not calculations, but--rough guesses; and as the colonial share of army, navy, and ordnance estimates altogether, he taxes in "from five to six millions," of which four and a half millions, according to a previous statement of his, were for the army alone, we arrive at the simple fact, that the navy and ordnance are rated rather widely at a cost ranging from half a million to one million and a half sterling per annum. the mean term of this would be three quarters of a million; but truth may afford to be liberal, and so we throw in the other quarter, and debit the colonies with one million sterling for naval service, which, so far as isolated sections of the great body political, they can hardly be said, with exceptions noted before, either to receive or need. we have before, and we believe conclusively, disposed of mr cobden's colonial army estimates; and now we arrive at the total burden, under the weight of which the empire staggers on colonial account. army charge, l. , , , but say l. , , navy and ordnance, , , ---------- total to colonial debit, l. , , mr cobden enumerates a variety of expenditure against the colonies besides, under the head of civil establishments, public works, and grants for educational and religious purposes. we need not--there is no occasion to discuss these minutiæ with him; we prefer to make him a bargain at once, and so we throw in, against these civil contingencies for the colonies, the whole lump of the estimates for the diplomatic and consular service, dr bowring's commissionerships inclusive; all the charges for civil government, education, religion, public works, &c., besides of those stations, such as gibraltar, malta, the ionian isles, singapore, penang, &c., occupied altogether, or chiefly, for the purposes of foreign commerce, partially from political views, but assuredly not at all with reference to colonial objects. if he be not content with this bargain of a set-off, we are quite ready to call over the account with him at any time, crediting him not more liberally than justly besides, with all the prodigal waste imposed upon the country by the colonial imposture facetiously styled the "self-supporting system," in his smart exposure of which our sympathies are all with him, zealous advocates though we be of colonization, of colonization on a national scale moreover, and therefore on a national and commensurate scale of expenditure; which, however, can only be undertaken by the government when the fiat of financial insolvency which, with the exchequer bill fraud, was the last legacy of mr spring rice and lord monteagle, shall be superseded, and the treasury rehabilitated, and then only by slow degrees, but sure. an individual may, perchance, thrive upon an imposture, a government never; the late ministry are the living evidence of the truth. we can comprehend "self-supporting colonization" in the individual sense of the pioneers and backwoodsmen of the united states; in the "squatting" upon wild lands in canada and the west indies; in the settlement of isolated adventurers among the savages of new zealand; but the "self-supporting" settlement of communities, or, as more fancifully expressed, of "society in frame," is just as sound in principle, and as possible in practice, as would be the calculation of the canadian shipwright, who should nail together a mass of boards and logs as a leviathan lumber ship for the transport of timber, on the calculation that at the end of the voyage it would be rated a at lloyd's, or grow into the solid power and capacity of a first-rate indiaman, or man-of-war. we all know that such timber floaters went to wreck in the first gale on our coasts; the crews, indeed, did not always perish, they were only tossed about at the mercy of the winds and waves with the wooden lumber which would not sink, so long as hunger and helplessness did not disable hands and limbs from holding fast. and just so with the "self-supporting system of colonization." having ascertained, upon bases laid down by mr cobden himself, but without adopting his slashing unproved totals, the extent to which colonial trade is criminally accessory to the financial burdens of the united kingdom, (not, by the way, of the empire of which they form a component part,) it behoves us now to establish the proportion in which we are taxed for foreign trade, for there is clearly more than one vulture preying upon the vitals of this unhappy land. we established, in our september number, an army cost of about l. , , against foreign trade for gibraltar, malta, the ionian islands, singapore, penang, &c. we may add, as a very low valuation, in the absence of accounts, l. , more for the war with china. of the estimates for the navy, l. , , , and ordnance, l. , , --total, l. , , ;--we are fully entitled to charge about three-eighths to foreign commerce, or say l. , , . the numerous and extensive naval stations kept up for the protection of our foreign commerce exclusively, together with the mediterranean, levant, and spanish coast naval expenditure, to no inconsiderable extent for the same object, will sufficiently justify this estimate. we have apportioned one million of the naval and ordnance estimates for colonial purposes; one million more may be safely placed to the account of the slave trade; the remainder, l. , , , is certainly an ample allowance for home naval stations, channel fleet, if there be any, mediterranean and other naval armaments, so far as for political objects only. we remain, therefore, for foreign trade with-- garrisons, gibraltar, &c., and reliefs at home, l. , , war with china, , navy and ordnance, , , ----------- total cost of foreign trade, l. , , id. colonial, as before stated, , , ----------- excess foreign, l. , , this excess might justly be swelled to at least half a million more by a surcharge of army expenditure in china; of navy expenditure on foreign stations, that for china is not taken into account at all; and in respect of various other items of smaller consideration, separately, although in the aggregate of consideration, the account might still more be aggravated. there would be some difficulty, it must be allowed, in clearly disinvolving them from masses of general statements, although for an approximate valuation it might not amount to an impossibility; we prefer, however, to leave mr cobden in possession of all the advantages we cannot make a clear title to. the advantages, indeed, are of dubious title, and something of the same kind as the entry into a house of which the owner cannot be found, or of which he cannot lay his hands on the title-deeds. we have now disposed of the preposterous exaggerations of the anti-colonial school, so far as that school can be said to be represented by mr alderman cobden, under the head of colonial cost to the metropolitan state. we have reduced his amount of that cost to its fair approximate proportions, item by item, of gross charge, so far as we are enabled by those parliamentary or colonial documents, possessing the character of official or quasi-official origin. we have necessarily followed up this portion of our vindication of the colonies from unjust aspersions by a concurrent enquiry into the cost at which our foreign trade is carried on, in the national sense of the military, naval, and other establishments required and kept up for its protection and encouragement. and, finally, we have struck the balance between the two, the results of which are already before the public. there remains one other essential part of the duty we have undertaken to fulfill. it is true that it did not suit the purposes of mr cobden to enter himself into any investigation of the comparative profitableness of foreign and colonial commerce, nor did he, doubtless, desire to provoke such an investigation on the part of others. with the cunning of a prejudiced partizan, he was content to skim superficially the large economical question he had not scrupled to raise from the depths of discomfiture and oblivion, in which abandoned by the colonial detractors, his predecessors, who had tried their art to conjure "spirits from the vasty deep," which would not come when they did "call for them." with gross numerical proportions apparently in his favour, but well-grounded convictions that more might be discovered than met the eye, or squared with the desire, should the component elements of those proportions be respectively submitted to the process of dissection, he preferred to leave the tale half told, the subject less than half discussed, rather than challenge the certain exposure of the fallacious assumptions on which he had reconstructed a seemingly plausible, but really shallow dogma. a foreign export trade of thirty-five millions he wished the world to believe must represent, proportionally, a larger amount of profit, than sixteen millions of colonial export trade; that the difference, in fact, would be as thirty-five to sixteen, and so, according to his cockerian rule of calculation, it should be. but, it is said and agreed, that two and two do not always make four, as in the present case will be verified. we may, indeed, place the matter beyond dispute, by a homely illustration level to every man's capacity. for example, a manchester banker, dealing in money, shall turn over in discounts and accounts-current, with a capital of l. , , the sum of one million sterling per annum. as he charges interest in current-account at the rate of per cent, so he allows the same. his profit, therefore, _quoad_ the interest on current-accounts and balances in hand, is _nil_; but for the trouble of managing accounts and for discounts, his charge is five shillings per l. . in lending out his capital, he realises five per cent more upon that. but the return upon capital embarked, say, in the cotton manufacture, is calculated, at the least, at an average of fifteen per cent. what, then, are the relative profit returns upon the same sum-total of operations for the banker and manufacturer? manufacturer's balance sheet. on capital. operations, l. , , capital, l. , profit, per cent, l. , banker's balance sheet. operations, l. , , profit thereon, s. per l. , l. capital, , interest thereon, per cent, return on capital, ------ , -------- excess manufacturing profit, l. that is, double the amount, or, as rateably may be said, per cent greater profit for the manufacturer than the banker. now, what is true of banking and commerce, may be--often is, true of one description of commerce, as compared with another. it is not meant to be inferred, however, that applied to colonial trade, as compared with foreign trade, the analogy holds good to all the extent; but that it does in degree, there can be no doubt, and we are prepared to show. it will, we know, be urged, that there can be no two _sale_ prices for the same commodity in the same market, a dictum we are not disposed to impugn; but we shall not so readily subscribe to the doctrine, that the prices in the home and colonial markets are absolutely controlled and equalized by those of the foreign market. this is a rule absolute, not founded in truth, but contradicted by every day's experience. it would be equally correct to assert, that the lower rates of labour in the european foreign market, or the higher rates in the north american, controlled and equalized in the one sense, and in the other opposing, the rates in this country, than which no assertion could be more irreconcilable with fact. prices and labour rates elsewhere, exercise an influence doubtless, and would have more in the absence of other conditions and counteracting influences, partly arising from natural, partly from artificially created causes. prices, in privileged home and colonial markets, cannot generally fall to the same level as in foreign neutral markets, or, as in foreign protected markets, where the rates of labour are low. keen as is the competition in the privileged home and colonial trade among the domestic and entitled manufacturers themselves, it will hardly be denied that larger as well as more steady profits are realized from those trades than from the foreign and fluctuating trade, exposed, as in most cases the latter is, to high fiscal, restrictive, and capricious burdens. these, _pro tanto_, shut out competition with the protected foreign producer, unless the importer consent to be cut down to such a modicum of price or profit, as shall barely, or not at all, return the simple interest of capital laid out. such is the position of foreign, in comparison with home trade. the foreign glut, in such case, reacts upon the privileged home and colonial markets, no doubt affecting prices in some degree, and if not always the rates of labour, at all events the sufficiency of employment, which is scarcely less an evil. but the reaction presses with nothing like the severity, which in a similar case, and to the same extent only, would follow from a glut in the home privileged markets. the cause must be sought in the general rule, that the inferior qualities of merchandise and manufactures are for the most part the objects of exportation only. consequently, in case of a glut, or want of demand abroad, as such are not suited by quality for home taste and consumption, the superabundance of accumulated and unsaleable stock, with the depression of prices consequent, affects comparatively in a slight degree only the value and vent of the wares prepared expressly for home consumption. but a different and more modified action takes place in case of over-production of the latter, or upon a failure of demand, arising from whatever cause. for, being then pressed upon the foreign market, the superior quality of the goods commands a decided preference at once, and that preference ensures comparatively higher rates of price in the midst of the piled up packages of warehouse sweepings and goods, made, like peter's razors, for special sale abroad, which are vainly offered at prime or any cost. these and other specialties escape, and not unaccountably, the view and the calculation of the speculative economist, who is so often astounded to find how a principle, or a theory, of unquestionable truth abstractedly, and apparently of general application, comes practically to be controlled by circumstances beyond his appreciation, or even to be negatived altogether. an example or two in illustration, may render the question more clearly to the economical reader; although taken from the cotton trade, they are not the less true, generally, of all other branches of home manufacturing industry. as we shall have to mention names, a period long past is purposely selected; but although the parties, so far as commercial pursuits, may be considered as no longer in existence, yet they cannot fail to be well remembered. the former firm of phillips and lee of manchester, were extensive spinners of cotton yarn for exportation, and extensive purchasers of other cotton yarns for exportation also; but for home manufacture they never could produce a quality of yarn equally saleable in the home market with other yarn of the same counts, and nominally classed of the same quality. the principal reason was, that they spun with machinery solely adapted for a particular trade, and the production of quantity was more an object than first-rate quality; to these ends their machinery was suited, and to have produced a first-rate article, extensive and expensive alterations in that machinery would have been required. mr lee himself, the managing partner, was an ingenious and theoretically scientific man, and often experimentalizing, but in general practically with little success. when, therefore, the export trade in yarns fell off, as, in some years during the war and the continental system of bonaparte, we believe it was almost entirely suspended, the yarns so described of this firm, and of any others the same, could find no vent--abroad no opening--at home not suited for the consumption. as the firm were extremely wealthy the accumulation of stock was, however, of small inconvenience; time was no object, the continent was not always sealed. with the great spinner arkwright the case was entirely different; at home as abroad his yarn products were always first in demand; his qualities unequalled; his prices far above all others of even the first order; his machinery of the most finished construction. if, perchance, home demand flagged, the export never failed to compensate in a great degree. so with all other subdivisions of the same or other manufactures, more or less. and this may explain the seeming phenomenon why; when the foreign trade has been so prostrate as we have seen it during the last three years, the home trade did not cease to be almost as prosperous as before. political economy would arbitrarily insist that, repelled from the foreign market, or suffering from a cessation of foreign demand, the manufacturer for exportation had only to direct his attention, carry his stocks to, and hasten to swell competition and find relief in, the home market. in products requiring little skill, such as common calicoes, such efforts might, to some extent, be successful; but there the invasion ends. in all the departments requiring greater skill, more perfect machinery, more taste, and the peculiar arts of finish which long practice alone can give, the old accustomed manufacturer for the home trade remains without a rival, still prospering in the midst of depression around, and whilst secure against intrusion in his own special monopoly of home supply, commanding also a superiority in foreign markets for his surplus wares, in the event of stagnation in home consumption, over the less finished and reputed products of his less-skilled brethren of the craft. in the enquiry into the advantages relatively of foreign and colonial export trade, it is not pretended literally to build upon the premises here established; the analogy would not always be strictly in point, but the fact resulting of the greater gainfulness of one description of trade over another is incontestable, and in the national sense perhaps much more than the individual. we shall take it for granted that british and irish products and manufactures enjoy a preference on import into the colonies, over imports from foreign countries, of at least five per cent, resulting from differential duties in favour of the parent state: it may be more, and we believe it will be found more; but such is the preference. this profit must be all to the account of the british exporter; for it is not received by the colonial custom-house, and whatever the reduction of prices by excess of competition, it is clear prices would be still more deranged by the introduction of another element of competition in more cheaply produced foreign products at only equal rates of duty. take, for examples, saxon hose, french silks, american domestics, but more especially all sorts of foreign made up wares, clothes, &c. _quoad_ the foreigner, the preferential duties make two prices therefore, by the very fact of which he is barred out. we shall now proceed to assess the mercantile profits respectively upon the sums-total of foreign and colonial trade by the correct standard; and then we shall endeavour to arrive at a rough but approximate estimate of the value respectively of foreign and colonial export trade in respect of the descriptions of commodities exported from this country, classified as finished or partly finished, in cases where the raw material is wholly or partially of foreign origin, and measured accordingly by the amount of profit on capital, and profit in the shape of wages, which each leave respectively in the country. it will be understood that no more than a rough estimate of leading points is pretended; the calculation, article by article, would involve a labour of months perhaps, and the results in detail fill the pages of maga for a year, and after all remain incomplete from the inaccessibility or non-existence of some of the necessary materials. there are, however, certain landmarks by which we may steer to something like general conclusions. the profits on exports, as on all other trade, exceptional cases apart, which cannot impeach the general rule, are measured to a great extent by the distance of the country to which the exports take place, and therefore the length of period, besides the extra risk, before which capital can be replaced and profits realized. within the compass of a two months' distance from england, we may include the gulf of mexico west, the baltic and white seas north, the black sea south-east, the west coast of africa to the gulf of guinea, and the east coast of south america to rio janeiro. we come thus to the limits within which the smaller profits only are realized; and all beyond will range under the head of larger returns. it is not necessary to determine the exact amount of the profit in each case, the essential point being the ratio of one towards the other. an average return in round numbers of seven and a half per cent many, therefore, be taken for the export commerce carried on within the narrower circle, and of twenty per cent for the _voyages à long cours_, say those to and round the two capes of good hope and horn. it is making a large allowance to say that each shipment to holland, france, or even the united states, for example, realizes seven and a half per cent clear profit, or that the aggregate of the exports cited yields at that rate. twenty per cent on exports to china and the east indies, in view of the more than double distance, and increase of risk attendant, does not seem proportionally liable to the same appearance of exaggeration. under favourable circumstances returns cannot be looked for in less than a year on the average, and then the greater distance the greater the risk of all kinds. classifying the exports upon this legitimate system, we find that, in round numbers, not very far from eight-ninths of the total amount of foreign trade exports come under the denomination of the shorter voyage. thus of these total exports of thirty-five millions, less than four millions belong to the far off traffic. the account will, therefore, stand thus:-- foreign trade profit of - / per cent on l. , , l. , , do. do. , , , ------------ total mercantile profit, l. , , the quantities colonial would range thus:-- colonial trade profit, long voyage, of per cent on l. , , l. , , colonial trade profit, short voyage, of - / per cent on l. , , , ------------ total colonial profit, l. , , truth, like time, is a great leveller--a fact of which no living man has had proof and reproof administered to him more frequently and severely that mr cobden himself. as culprits, however, harden in heart with each repetition of crime, until from petty larceny, the initiating offence, they ascend unscrupulously to the perpetration of felony without benefit of clergy; so he, with effrontery only the more deeply burnt in, and conscience the more callous from each conviction, will still lie on, so long as lungs are left, and vulgar listeners can be found in the scum of town populations. how grandiloquent was mr cobden with his "_new_ facts," brand new, as he solemnly assured the house of commons, which was not convulsed with irrepressible derision on the announcement! how swelled he, "big with the fate" of corn and colony, as the mighty secret burst from his labouring breast, "that the whole amount of their trade in was, exports, l. , , ; out of that l. , , was (were) exported to the colonies, including the east indies; but not one-third went to the colonies. take away l. , , of the export trade that went to the east indies, and they had l. , , of exports," &c. oh! rare cocker; not the third of ; "take away" one leg and there will only be the other to stand upon. cut off, in like manner, the twenty-one millions of exports to europe, and what becomes of the foreign trade? "an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," is the old _lex talionis_, and we have no objection to part with a limb on our side on the reciprocal condition that he shall be amputated of another. we engage to wage air battle with him on the stumps which are left, he with his fourteen millions of foreign against our ten millions of colonial trade, like two _razées_ of first and second rates cut down. before next he adventures into conflict again--better had he so bethought him before his colonial debut in the house last june--would it not be the part of wisdom to take counsel with his dear friend and neighbour mr samuel brookes, the well-known opulent calico-printer, manufacturer, and exporting merchant of manchester, who proved, some three or four years ago, as clearly as figures--made up, like the restaurateur's _pain_, at discretion--can prove any thing, that the larger the foreign trade he carried on, the greater were his losses, in various instances cited of hundreds per cent; from whence, seeing how rotund and robust grows the worthy alderman, deplorable balance-sheets notwithstanding, which would prostrate the bank of england like the bank of manchester, it should result that he, like another themistocles, might exclaim to his family, clad in purple and fine linen, "my children, had we not been ruined, we should have been undone!" but _revenons á nos moutons_. according to mr cobden's _new_ facts, borrowed from porter's tables, so far as the figures, the superior importance and profit of foreign trade should be measured by the gross quantities, and be, say, as to . we have shown that the relation of profit really stands as to , starting from the same basis of total amounts as himself. the total profit upon a foreign trade of thirty-five millions, to place it on an equal rateable footing with colonial, should be, not three millions and an eighth, but upwards of five millions, or the colonial trade of sixteen millions, if no more gainful than foreign, should be, not l. , , , but about one million less. and here the question naturally recurs, assuming the principle of mr cobden to be correct--as so, for his satisfaction, it has been reasoned hitherto--at what rate of charge nationally are these profits, colonial and foreign, purchased? fortunately the materials for the estimates are already in hand, and here they are: colonial trade--cost in army, navy, ordnance, &c., l. , , colonial trade--profit to exporters, , , ---------- deficit--loss to the country, l. , foreign trade--cost in army, navy, ordnance, &c., l. , , foreign trade exporting profit, , , ---------- deficit--loss to the country, l. , , as nearly, therefore, as may be, foreign trade costs the country twice as much as colonial. such are the conclusions, the rough but approximately accurate conclusions, to which the _new_ facts of mr cobden and the old hobby of joseph hume, mounted by the _new_ philosopher, have led; and the public exposition of which has been provoked by his ignorance or malevolence, or both. in order to gain less than per cent average upon a foreign trade of thirty-five millions, the country is saddled, for the benefit of messrs brookes and cobden, _inter alios_, with a cost of nearly per cent upon the same amount; whilst the cost of colonial trade is about - / per cent on the total of sixteen millions, but the profit nearly fifteen per cent. in the account of colonial profit, be it observed, moreover, no account is here taken of the supplementary advantage derived from the differential duties against foreign imports. in the national point of view, the profitableness of the foreign export trade, as compared with colonial, would seem more dubious still, when the values left and distributed among the producing classes are taken into calculation. of the total foreign exports of thirty-five millions, considerably above one-fifth--say, to the value of nearly seven and a half millions sterling--were exported in the shape of cotton, linen, and woollen yarns in , the year selected by mr cobden, of which, in cotton yarn alone, to the value of nearly , , . according to _burn's commercial glance for_ , the average price of cotton-yarn so exported, exceeds by some per cent the average price of the cotton from which made. applying the same rule to linen yarn as made from foreign imported flax, and to woollen yarn as partly, at least, from foreign wool, we come to a gross sum of about l. , , left in the country, as values representing the wages of labour, and the profits of manufacturing capital in respect of yarn. the quantity of yarn, on the contrary, exported colonially, does not reach to one-sixteenth of the total colonial exports. in order to manifest the immense superiority nationally of a colonial export trade in finished products, over a foreign trade in _quasi_ raw materials, we need only take the article of "apparel." of the total value of wearing apparel exported in , say for l. , , , the colonial trade alone absorbed the best part of one million. now, it may be estimated with tolerable certainty, that the average amount, over and above the cost of the raw material, of the values expended upon and left in the country, in the shape of wages and profits, upon this description of finished product, does not fall short of the rate of per cent. so that apparel to the total value of one million would leave behind an expenditure of labour, and a realization of profits, substantially existing and circulating among the community, over and above the cost of raw material, of about l. , , upon a basis of raw material values of about l. , . assuming for a moment, that yarns were equally improved and prolific in the multiplication of values, the seven millions and a half of foreign exports should represent a value proportionally of forty-five millions sterling. the colonial exports comprise a variety of similar finished and made-up articles, to the extent of probably about four millions sterling, to which the same rate of home values, so swelled by labour and profits, will apply. it remains only to add, that the foreign export trade gave employment in --the date fixed by mr cobden, but to which, in some few instances, it has been impossible to adhere for want of necessary documents, as he himself experienced--to , british vessels, of , , aggregate tonnage outwards, repeated voyages inclusive, for the verification of the number of which we are without any returns, those made to parliament by the public offices bearing the simple advertence on their face, with official nonchalance, that "there are no materials in this office by which the number of the crews of steam and sailing vessels respectively (including their repeated voyages) can be shown." and yet a "statistical department" has now been, for some years, founded as part of the board of trade, whose pretensions to the accomplishment of great works have hitherto been found considerably to transcend both the merit and the quantity of its performances. the proportion of foreign vessels sharing in the same export traffic in , was little inferior to that of the british. thus, , foreign vessels, of , , tonnage, divided the foreign export trade with , british vessels. the returns for give as the number of british vessels, and , , as the aggregate tonnage, carrying on the export trade with the colonies; thus it will be seen that the exportation of _thirty-five millions_ of pounds' worth of british produce and manufactures to foreign countries, employed only about , tons of british shipping more than the export to the colonies of _sixteen millions_ of pounds' worth of products, or say, less than one half. proportions kept according to values exported respectively, foreign trade should have occupied about , , tons of british shipping, against the colonial employment of , , tons. nor is this all the difference, large as it is, in favour of colonial over foreign trade, with respect to the employment of shipping. for it may be taken for granted that, in fact, so far as the amount of tonnage, _repeated voyages not included_, the colonial does actually employ a much larger quantity relatively than foreign trade. it may be fairly assumed that, on the average, the shipping in foreign trade make one and a half voyages outwards--that is, outwards and inwards together, three voyages in the year; for, upon a rough estimate, it would appear that not one-tenth of this shipping was occupied in mercantile enterprise beyond the limits of that narrower circle before assigned, ad within which repeated voyages of twice and thrice in the year, and frequently more often, are not practicable only but habitually performed. taking one-tenth as representing the one voyage and return in the year of the more distant traffic, and one and a half outward sailings for the other nine tenths of tonnage, we arrive at the approximative fact, that the foreign trade does in reality employ no more (repeated voyages allowed for as before stated) than the aggregate tonnage of , , , instead of the , , gross tonnage as apparent. applying the same rule, we find that the long or one year's colonial voyage traffic is equal to something less than two-ninths of the whole tonnage employed in the colonial trade, and that, assuming one and a half voyages per annum for the remainder trafficking with the colonies nearer home, the result will be, that the colonial traffic absorbs an aggregate of , , actual tonnage, exclusive of repeated voyages of the same shipping. here, for the satisfaction of colonial maligners, like mr cobden, we place the shipping results for foreign and colonial traffic respectively. the registered tonnage of the , british vessels above fifty tons burden, stood, on the st of december , (the returns for or , we do not chance to have,) tons. at , , of which foreign trade, in the export of products and manufactures to the value of _thirty-five millions_ sterling, absorbed , , colonial trade in the transport of _sixteen millions_ only of values, , , considering the greater mass of values transported, the foreign trade should have employed, to have kept its relative shipping proportion and importance with colonial trade, above , , we are, however, entirely satisfied, and it would admit of easy proof, were time and space equally at our disposal for the elaborate development of details, not only that the colonial trade gives occupation to an equal, but to a larger proportion of registered british shipping than the foreign trade. but we have been obliged to limit ourselves to the consideration of such facts as are most readily accessible, so as to enable the general reader to test at once the approximative fidelity of the vindication we present, and the falsehood, scarcely glozed over with a coating of plausibility, of the vague generalities strung together as a case against the colonies by mr cobden and the anti-colonial faction. we have, moreover, to request the reader to observe, that we have proceeded all along on the basis of the wild assumptions of mr cobden's own self created and unexplained calculations; that by his own figures we have tried and convicted his own conclusions of monstrous exaggeration, and ignorant, if not wilful, deception. the three fourths charge of army expenditure upon the colonies, is a mere mischievous fabrication of his own brain. in ordinary circumstances the colonial charge would not enter for more than half that amount; and even with the extraordinary expenditure rendered necessary by gosford and durham misrule in canada, the colonial charge is not equal to the amount so wantonly asserted. we have likewise not insisted with sufficient force, and at suitable length of evidence, upon the fact of the infinitely greater values proportionally left in the country, in the shape of the wages of labour, and the profits upon capital, by colonial than by foreign trade. it would not, however, be too much to assume, and indeed the proposition is almost self-evident, that whereas about per cent may be taken as the average improved value of the products absorbed by the foreign trade, over and above the first cost of the raw material from which fabricated, where such material is of foreign origin, the similarly improved excess of values absorbed by the colonial trade, would not average less than from to per cent. other occasions may arise, hereafter, more convenient than the present, for throwing these truths into broader relief; we are content, indeed, now to leave mr cobden to chew the cud of reflection upon his own colonial blunders and misrepresentations. here, therefore, we stay our hand; we have redeemed our pledge; we have more than proved our case. various laborious researches into the real values of colonial and foreign exported commodities, have amply satisfied our mind, as they would those of any impartial person capable of investigation into special facts, of the superior comparative value, in the mercantile and manufacturing, or individual sense, as well, more specially, as in the economical and social, or national sense, of colonial over foreign trade. do we therefore seek to disparage foreign trade? far from it: our anxious desire is to see it prosper and progress daily and yearly, fully impressed with the conviction that it is, as it long has been, one of the sheet-anchors of the noble vessel of the state, by the aid of which it has swung securely in, and weathered bravely, many a hurricane--and holding fast to which, the gallant ship is again repairing the damage of the late long night of tempest. but we deprecate these invidious attacks and comparisons by which malice and ignorance would depreciate one great interest, for the selfish notion of unduly elevating another; as if both could not equally prosper without coming into collision; nay, as if each could not contribute to the welfare of the other, and, in combined result, advance the glory and prosperity of the common country. we have not deemed it proper, to mix up with the special argument of this article those political, moral, and social considerations of gravest import, as connected with the possession, the government, and the improvement of colonial dependencies, which constitute a question apart, the happy solution of which is of the highest public concernment; and separately, therefore, may be left for treatment. but in the economical view, we may take credit for having cleared the ground and prepared the way for its discussion to no inconsiderable extent. nor have we thought it fitting to nix up the debate on differential duties in favour of the colonies with the other objects which have engaged our labour. we are as little disposed as any free trader to view differential duties in excess, with favour and approval. the candid admission of mr deacon hume on that head, that in reference to the late slave colonies the question of those duties is "taken entirely out of the category of free trade," should set that debate at rest for the present, at all events. * * * * * a speculation on the senses. how can that which is a purely subjective affection--in other words, which is dependent upon us as a mere modification of our sentient nature--acquire, nevertheless, such a distinct objective reality, as shall compel us to acknowledge it as an independent creation, the permanent existence of which, is beyond the control of all that we can either do or think? such is the form to which all the questions of speculation my be ultimately reduced. and all the solutions which have hitherto been propounded as answers to the problem, may be generalized into these two: either consciousness is able to transcend, or go beyond itself; or else the whole pomp, and pageantry, and magnificence, which we miscall the external universe, are nothing but our mental phantasmagoria, nothing but states of our poor, finite, subjective selves. but it has been asked again and again, in reference to these two solutions, can a man overstep the limits of himself--of his own consciousness? if he can, then says the querist, the reality of the external world is indeed guaranteed; but what an insoluble, inextricable contradiction is here: that a man should overstep the limits of the very nature which is _his_, just because he cannot overstep it! and if he cannot, then says the same querist, then is the external universe an empty name--a mere unmeaning sound; and our most inveterate convictions are all dissipated like dreams. astute reasoner! the dilemma is very just, and is very formidable; and upon the one or other of its horns, has been transfixed every adventurer that has hitherto gone forth on the knight-errantry of speculation. every man who lays claim to a direct knowledge of something different from himself, perishes impaled on the contradiction involved in the assumption, that consciousness can transcend itself: and every man who disclaims such knowledge, expires in the vacuum of idealism, where nothing grows but the dependent and transitory productions of a delusive and constantly shifting consciousness. but is there no other way in which the question can be resolved? we think that there is. in the following demonstration, we think that we can vindicate the objective reality of things--(a vindication which, we would remark by the way is of no value whatever, in so far as that objective reality is concerned, but only as being instrumental to the ascertainment of the laws which regulate the whole process of sensation;)--we think that we can accomplish this, without, on the one hand, forcing consciousness to overstep itself, and on the other hand, without reducing that reality to the delusive impressions of an understanding born but to deceive. whatever the defects of our proposed demonstration may be, we flatter ourselves that the dilemma just noticed as so fatal to every other solution, will be utterly powerless when brought to bear against it: and we conceive, that the point of a third alternative must be sharpened by the controversialist who would bring us to the dust. it is a new argument, and will require a new answer. we moreover pledge ourselves, that abstruse as the subject is, both the question, and our attempted solution of it, shall be presented to the reader in such a shape as shall _compel_ him to understand them. our pioneer shall be a very plain and palpable illustration. let a be a circle, containing within it x y z. [illustration] x y and z lie within the circle; and the question is, by what art or artifice--we might almost say by what sorcery--can they be transplanted out of it, without at the same time being made to overpass the limits of the sphere? there are just four conceivable answers to this question--answers illustrative of three great schools of philosophy, and of a fourth which is now fighting for existence. . one man will meet the difficulty boldly, and say--"x y and z certainly lie within the circle, but i believe they lie without it. _how_ this should be, i know not. i merely state what i conceive to be the fact. the _modus operandi_ is beyond my comprehension." this man's answer is contradictory, and will never do. . another man will deny the possibility of the transference--"x y and z," he will say, "are generated within the circle in obedience to its own laws. they form part and parcel of the sphere; and every endeavour to regard them as endowed with an extrinsic existence, must end in the discomfiture of him who makes the attempt." this man declines giving any answer to the problem. we ask him _how_ x y and can be projected beyond the circle without transgressing its limits; and he answers that they never are, and never can be so projected. . a third man will postulate as the cause of x y z a transcendent x y z--that is, a cause lying external to the sphere; and by referring the former to the latter, he will obtain for x y x, not certainly a real externality, which is the thing wanted, but a _quasi-externality_, with which, as the best that is to be had, he will in all probability rest contented. "x y and z," he will say, "are projected, _as it were_, out of the circle." this answer leaves the question as much unsolved as ever. or, . a fourth man (and we beg the reader's attention to this man's answer, for it forms the fulcrum or cardinal point on which our whole demonstration turns)--a fourth man will say, "if the circle could only be brought _within itself_, so-- [illustration] then the difficulty would disappear--the problem would be completely solved. x y z must now of necessity fall as extrinsic to the circle a; and this, too, (which is the material part of the solution,) without the limits of the circle a being overstepped." perhaps this may appear very like quibbling; perhaps it may be regarded as a very absurd solution--a very shallow evasion of the difficulty. nevertheless, shallow or quibbling as it may seem, we venture to predict, that when the breath of life shall have been breathed into the bones of the above dead illustration, this last answer will be found to afford a most exact picture and explanation of the matter we have to deal with. let our illustration, then, stand forth as a living process. the large circle a we shall call our whole sphere of sense, in so far as it deals with objective existence--and x y z shall be certain sensations of colour, figure, weight, hardness, and so forth, comprehended within it. the question then is--how can these sensations, without being ejected from the sphere of sense within which they lie, assume the status and the character of real independent existences? how can they be objects, and yet remain sensations? nothing will be lost on the score of distinctness, if we retrace, in the living sense, the footprints we have already trod in explicating the inanimate illustration. neither will any harm be done, should we employ very much the same phraseology. we answer, then, that here, too, there are just four conceivable ways in which this question can be met. . the man of common sense, (so called,) who aspires to be somewhat of a philosopher, will face the question boldly, and will say, "i feel that colour and hardness, for instance, lie entirely within the sphere of sense, and are mere modifications of my subjective nature. at the same time, feel that colour and hardness constitute a real object, which exists out of the sphere of sense, independently of me and all my modifications. _how_ this should be, i know not; i merely state the fact as i imagine myself to find it. the _modus_ is beyond my comprehension." this man belongs to the school of natural realists. if he merely affirmed or postulated a miracle in what he uttered, we should have little to say against him, (for the whole process of sensation is indeed miraculous.) but he postulates more than a miracle; he postulates a contradiction, in the very contemplation of which our reason is unhinged. . another man will deny that our sensations ever transcend the sphere of sense, or attain a real objective existence. "colour, hardness, figure, and so forth," he will say, "are generated within the sphere of sense, in obedience to its own original laws. they form integral parts of the sphere; and he who endeavours to construe them to his own mind as embodied in extrinsic independent existences, must for ever be foiled in the attempt." this man declines giving any answer to the problem. we ask, _how_ can our sensations be embodied in distinct permanent realities? and he replies, that they never are and never can be so embodied. this man is an idealist--or as we would term him, (to distinguish him from another species about to be mentioned, of the same genus,) an _acosmical_ idealist; that is, an idealist who absolutely denies the existence of an independent material world. . a third man will postulate as the cause of our sensations of hardness, colour, &c., a transcendent something, of which he knows nothing, except that he feigns and fables it as lying external to the sphere of sense: and then, by referring our sensations to this unknown cause, he will obtain for them, not certainly the externality desiderated, but a _quasi-externality_, which he palms off upon himself and us as the best that can be supplied. this man is _cosmothetical_ idealist: that is, an idealist who postulates an external universe as the unknown cause of certain modifications we are conscious of within ourselves, and which, according to his view, we never really get beyond. this species of speculator is the commonest, but he is the least trustworthy of any; and his fallacies are all the more dangerous by reason of the air of plausibility with which they are invested. from first to last, he represents us as the dupes of our own perfidious nature. by some inexplicable process of association, he refers certain known effects to certain unknown causes; and would thus explain to us how these effects (our sensations) come to assume, _as it were_, the character of external objects. but we know not "as it were." away with such shuffling phraseology. there is nothing either of reference, or of inference, or of quasi-truthfulness in our apprehension of the material universe. it is ours with a certainty which laughs to scorn all the deductions of logic, and all the props of hypothesis. what we wish to know is, _how_ our subjective affections can _be_, not _as it were_, but in god's truth, and in the strict, literal, earnest, and unambiguous sense of the words, real independent, objective existences. this is what the cosmothetical idealist never can explain, and never attempts to explain. . we now come to the answer which the reader, who has followed us thus far, will be prepared to find us putting forward as by far the most important of any, and as containing in fact the very kernel of the solution. a fourth man will say--"if the whole sphere of sense could only be withdrawn _inwards_--could be made to fall somewhere _within itself_--then the whole difficulty would disappear, and the problem would be solved at once. the sensations which existed previous to this retraction or withdrawal, would then, of necessity, fall without the sphere of sense, ( see our second diagram;) and in doing so, they would necessarily assume a totally different aspect from that of sensations. they would be real independent objects: and (what is the important part of the demonstration) they would acquire this _status_ without overstepping by a hair's-breadth the primary limits of the sphere. were such phraseology allowable, we should say that the sphere has _understepped_ itself, and in doing so, has left its former contents high and dry, and stamped with all the marks which can characterize objective existences." now the reader will please to remark, that we are very far from desiring him to accept this last solution at our bidding. our method, we trust, is any thing but dogmatical. we merely say, that _if_ this can be shown to be the case, then the demonstration which we are in the course of unfolding, will hardly fail to recommend itself to his acceptance. whether or not it is the case, can only be established by an appeal to our experience. we ask, then--does experience inform us, or does she not, that the sphere of sense falls within, and very considerably within, itself? but here it will be asked--what meaning do we attach to the expression, that sense falls within its own sphere? these words, then, we must first of all explain. every thing which is apprehended as a sensation--such as colour, figure, hardness, and so forth--falls within the sentient sphere. to be a sensation, and to fall within the sphere of sense, are identical and convertible terms. when, therefore, it is asked--does the sphere of sense ever fall within itself? this is equivalent to asking--do the senses themselves ever become sensations? is that which apprehends sensations ever itself apprehended as a sensation? can the senses he seized on within the limits of the very circle which they prescribe? if they cannot, then it must be admitted that the sphere of sense never falls within itself, and consequently that an objective reality--_i.e._ a reality extrinsic to that sphere--can never be predicated or secured for any part of its contents. but we conceive that only one rational answer can be returned to this question. does not experience teach us, that much if not the whole of our sentient nature becomes itself in turn a series of sensations? does not the sight--that power which contains the whole visible space, and embraces distances which no astronomer can compute--does it not abjure its high prerogative, and take rank within the sphere of sense--itself a sensation--when revealed to us in the solid atom we call the eye? here it is the touch which brings the sight within, and very far within, the sphere of vision. but somewhat less directly, and by the aid of the imagination, the sight operates the same introtraction (pardon the coinage) upon itself. it ebbs inwards, so to speak, from all the contents that were given in what may be called its primary sphere. it represents itself, in its organ, as a minute visual sensation, out of, and beyond which, are left lying the great range of all its other sensations. by imagining the sight as a sensation of colour, we diminish it to a speck within the sphere of its own sensations; and as we now regard the sense as for ever enclosed within this small embrasure, all the other sensations which were its, previous to our discovery of the organ, and which are its still, are built up into a world of objective existence, _necessarily_ external to the sight, and altogether out of its control. all sensations of colour are necessarily out of one another. surely, then, when the sight is subsumed under the category of colour--as it unquestionably is whenever we think of the eye--surely all other colours must, of necessity, assume a position external to it; and what more is wanting to constitute that real objective universe of light and glory in which our hearts rejoice? we can, perhaps, make this matter still plainer by reverting to our old illustration. our first exposition of the question was designed to exhibit a general view of the case, through the medium of a dead symbolical figure. this proved nothing, though we imagine that it illustrated much. our second exposition exhibited the illustration in its application to the living sphere of sensation _in general_; and this proved little. but we conceive that therein was foreshadowed a certain procedure, which, if it can be shown from experience to be the actual procedure of sensation _in detail_, will prove all that we are desirous of establishing. we now, then, descend to a more systematic exposition of the process which (so far as our experience goes, and we beg to refer the reader to his own) seems to be involved in the operation of seeing. we dwell chiefly upon the sense of sight, because it is mainly through its ministrations that a real objective universe is given to us. let the circle a be the whole circuit of vision. we may begin by calling it the eye, the retina, or what we will. let it be provided with the ordinary complement of sensations--the colours x y z. now, we admit that these sensations cannot be extruded beyond the periphery of vision; and yet we maintain that, unless they be made to fall on the outside of that periphery, they cannot become real objects. how is this difficulty--this contradiction--to be overcome? nature overcomes it, by a contrivance as simple as it is beautiful. in the operation of seeing, admitting the canvass or background of our picture to be a retina, or what we will, with a multiplicity of colours depicted upon it, we maintain that we cannot stop here, and that we never do stop here. we invariably go on (such is the inevitable law of our nature) to complete the picture--that is to say, we fill in our own eye as a colour within the very picture which our eye contains--we fill it in as a sensation within the other sensations which occupy the rest of the field; and in doing so, we of necessity, by the same law, turn these sensations out of the eye; and they thus, by the same necessity, assume the rank of independent objective existences. we describe the circumference infinitely within the circumference; and hence all that lies on the outside of the intaken circle comes before us stamped with the impress of real objective truth. we fill in the eye greatly within the sphere of light, (or within the eye itself; if we insist on calling the primary sphere by this name,) and the eye thus filled in is the only eye we know any thing at all about, either from the experience of sight or of touch. _how_ this operation is accomplished, is a subject of but secondary moment; whether it be brought about by the touch, by the eye itself, or by the imagination, is a question which might admit of much discussion; but it is one of very subordinate interest. the _fact_ is the main thing--the fact that the operation _is_ accomplished in one way or another--the fact that the sense comes before itself (if not directly, yet virtually) as _one_ of its own sensations--_that_ is the principal point to be attended to; and we apprehend that this fact is now placed beyond the reach of controversy. to put the case in another light. the following considerations may serve to remove certain untoward difficulties in metaphysics and optics, which beset the path, not only of the uninitiated, but even of the professors of these sciences. we are assured by optical metaphysicians, or metaphysical opticians, that, in the operations of vision, we never get beyond the eye itself, or the representations that are depicted therein. we see nothing, they tell us, but what is delineated within the eye. now, the way in which a plain man should meet this statement, is this--he should ask the metaphysician _what_ eye he refers to. do you allude, sir, to an eye which belongs to my visible body, and forms a small part of the same; or do you allude to an eye which does not belong to my visible body, and which constitutes no portion thereof? if the metaphysician should say, that he refers to an eye of the latter description, then the plain man's answer should be--that he has no experience of any such eye--that he cannot conceive it--that he knows nothing at all about it--and that the only eye which he ever thinks or speaks of, is the eye appertaining to, and situated within, the phenomenon which he calls his visible body. is _this_, then, the eye which the metaphysician refers to, and which he tells us we never get beyond? if it be--why, then, the very admission that this eye is a part of the visible body, (and what else can we conceive the eye to be?) proves that we _must_ get beyond it. even supposing that the whole operation were transacted within the eye, and that the visible body were nowhere but within the eye, still the eye which we invariably and inevitably fill in as belonging to the visible body, (and no other eye is ever thought of or spoken of by us,)--_this_ eye, we say, must necessarily exclude the visible body, and all other visible things, from its sphere. or, can the eye (always conceived of as a visible thing among other visible things) again contain the very phenomenon (_i.e._ the visible body) within which it is itself contained? surely no one will maintain a position of such unparalleled absurdity as that. the science of optics, in so far as it maintains, according to certain physiological principles, that in the operation of seeing we never get beyond the representations within the eye, is founded on the assumption, that the visible body has no visible eye belonging to it. whereas we maintain, that the only eye that we have--the only eye we can form any conception of, is the visible eye that belongs to the visible body, as a part does to a whole; whether this eye be originally revealed to us by the touch, by the sight, by the reason, or by the imagination. we maintain, that to affirm we never get beyond this eye in the exercise of vision, is equivalent to asserting, that a part is larger than the whole, of which it is only a part--is equivalent to asserting, that y, which is contained between x and z, is nevertheless of larger compass than x and z, and comprehends them both. the fallacy we conceive to be this, that the visible body can be contained within the eye, without the eye of the visible body also being contained therein. but this is a procedure, which no law, either of thought or imagination, will tolerate. if we turn the visible body, and all visible things, into the eye, we must turn the eye of the visible body also into the eye; a process which, of course, again turns the visible body, and all visible things, _out_ of the eye. and thus the procedure eternally defeats itself. thus the very law which appears to annihilate, or render impossible, the objective existence of visible things, as creations independent of the eye--this very law, when carried into effect with a thorough-going consistency, vindicates and establishes that objective existence, with a logical force, an iron necessity, which no physiological paradox can countervail. we have now probably said enough to convince the attentive reader, that the sense of sight, when brought under its own notice as a sensation, either directly, or through the ministry of the touch or of the imagination, (as it is when revealed to us in its organ,) falls very far--falls almost infinitely within its own sphere. sight, revealing itself as a sense, spreads over a span commensurate with the diameter of the whole visible space; sight, revealing itself as a sensation, dwindles to a speck of almost unappreciable insignificance, when compared with the other phenomena which fall within the visual ken. this speck is the organ, and the organ is the sentient circumference drawn inwards, far within itself, according to a law which (however unconscious we may be of its operation) presides over every act and exercise of vision--a law which, while it contracts the sentient sphere, throws, at the same time, into necessary objectivity every phenomenon that falls external to the diminished circle. this is the law in virtue of which subjective visual sensations are real visible objects. the moment the sight becomes one of its own sensations, it is restricted, in a peculiar manner, to that particular sensation. it now falls, as we have said, within its own sphere. now, nothing more was wanting to make the other visual sensations real independent existences; for, _quà_ sensations, they are all originally independent of each other, and the sense itself being now a sensation, they must now also be independent of it. we now pass on to the consideration of the sense of touch. here precisely the same process is gone through which was observed to take place in the case of vision. the same law manifests itself here, and the same inevitable consequence follows, namely--that sensations are things--that subjective affections are objective realities. the sensation of hardness (softness, be it observed, is only an inferior degree of hardness, and therefore the latter word is the proper generic term to be employed)--the sensation of hardness forms the contents of this sense. hardness, we will say, is originally a purely subjective affection. the question, then, is, how can this affection, without being thrust forth into a fictitious, transcendent, and incomprehensible universe, assume, nevertheless, a distinct objective reality, and be (not as it were, but in language of the most unequivocating truth) a permanent existence altogether independent of the sense? we answer, that this can take place only provided the sense of touch can be brought under our notice _as itself hard_. if this can be shown to take place, then as all sensations which are presented to us in space necessarily exclude one another, are reciprocally _out_ of each other, all other instances of hardness must of necessity fall as extrinsic to that particular hardness which the sense reveals to us as its own; and, consequently, all these other instances of hardness will start into being, as things endowed with a permanent and independent substance. now, what is the verdict of experience on the subject? the direct and unequivocal verdict of experience is, that the touch reveals itself to us as one of its own sensations. in the finger-points more particularly, and generally all over the surface of the body, the touch manifests itself not only as that which apprehends hardness, but as that which is itself hard. the sense of touch vested in one of its own sensations (our tangible bodies namely) is the sense of touch brought within its own sphere. it comes before itself as _one_ sensation of hardness. consequently all its _other_ sensations of hardness are necessarily excluded from this particular hardness; and, falling beyond it, they are by the same consequence built up into a world of objective reality, of permanent substance, altogether independent of the sense, self-betrayed as a sensation of hardness. but here it may be asked, if the senses are thus reduced to the rank of sensations, if they come under our observation as themselves sensations, must we not regard them but as parts of the subjective sphere; and though the other portions of the sphere may be extrinsic to these sensations, still must not the contents of the sphere, taken as a whole, be considered as entirely subjective, _i.e._ as merely _ours_, and consequently must not real objective existence be still as far beyond our grasp as ever? we answer. no, by no means. such a query implies a total oversight of all that experience proves to be the fact with regard to this matter. it implies that the senses have not been reduced to the rank of sensations--that they have _not_ been brought under our cognizance as themselves sensations, and that they have yet to be brought there. it implies that vision has not been revealed to us as a sensation of colour in the phenomenon the eye--and that touch has not been revealed to us as a sensation of hardness in the phenomenon the finger. it implies, in short, that it is not the sense itself which has been revealed to us, in the one case as coloured, and in the other case as hard, but that it is something else which has been thus revealed to us. but it may still be asked, how do we know that we are not deceiving ourselves? how can it be proved that it is the senses, and not something else, which have come before us under the guise of certain sensations? that these sensations are the senses themselves, and nothing but the senses, may be proved in the following manner. we bring the matter to the test of actual experiment. we make certain experiments, _seriatim_, upon each of the items that lie within the sentient sphere, and we note the effect which each experiment has upon that portion of the contents which is not meddled with. in the exercise of vision, for example, we remove a book, and no change is produced in our perception of a house; a cloud disappears, yet our apprehension of the sea and the mountains, and all other visible things, is the same as ever. we continue our experiments, until our test happens to be applied to one particular phenomenon, which lies, if not directly, yet virtually, within the sphere of vision. we remove or veil this small visual phenomenon, and a totally different effect is produced from those that took place when any of the other visual phenomena were removed or veiled. the whole landscape is obliterated. we restore this phenomenon--the whole landscape reappears: we adjust this phenomenon differently--the whole landscape becomes differently adjusted. from these experiments we find, that this phenomenon is by no means an ordinary sensation, but that it differs from all other sensations in this, that it is the sense itself appearing in the form of a sensation. these experiments prove that it is the sense itself, and nothing else, which reveals itself to us in the particular phenomenon the eye. if experience informed us that the particular adjustment of some other visual phenomenon (a book, for instance) were essential to our apprehension of all the other phenomena, we should, in the same way, be compelled to regard this book as our sense of sight manifested in one of its own sensations. the book would be to us what the eye now is: it would be our bodily organ: and no _à priori_ reason can be shown why this might not have been the case. all that we can say is, that such is not the finding of experience. experience points out the eye, and the eye alone, as the visual sensation essential to our apprehension of all our other sensations of vision, and we come at last to regard this sensation as the sense itself. inveterate association leads us to regard the eye, not merely as the organ, but actually as the sense of vision. we find from experience how much depends upon its possession, and we lay claim to it as a part of ourselves, with an emphasis that will not be gainsaid. an interesting enough subject of speculation would be, an enquiry into the gradual steps by which each man is led to _appropriate_ his own body. no man's body is given him absolutely, indefeasibly, and at once, _ex dono dei_. it is no unearned hereditary patrimony. it is held by no _à priori_ title on the part of the possessor. the credentials by which its tenure is secured to him, are purely of an _à posteriori_ character; and a certain course of experience must be gone through before the body can become his. the man acquires it, as he does originally all other property, in a certain formal and legalized manner. originally, and in the strict legal as well as metaphysical idea of them, all bodies, living as well as dead, human no less than brute, are mere _waifs_--the property of the first finder. but the law, founding on sound metaphysical principles, very properly makes a distinction here between two kinds of finding. to entitle a person to claim a human body as his own, it is not enough that he should find it in the same way in which he finds his other sensations, namely, as impressions which interfere not with the manifestations of each other. this is not enough, even though, in the case supposed, the person should be the first finder. a subsequent finder would have the preference, if able to show that the particular sensations manifested as this human body were essential to his apprehension of all his other sensations whatsoever. it is this latter species of finding--the finding, namely, of certain sensations as the essential condition on which the apprehension of all other sensations depends; it is this finding alone which gives each man a paramount and indisputable title to that "treasure trove" which he calls his own body. now, it is only after going through a considerable course of experience and experiment, that we can ascertain what the particular sensations are upon which all our other sensations are dependent. and therefore were we not right in saying, that a man's body is not given to him directly and at once, but that he takes a certain time, and must go through a certain process, to acquire it? the conclusion which we would deduce from the whole of the foregoing remarks is, that the great law of _living_[ ] sensation, the _rationale_ of sensation as a _living_ process, is this, that the senses are not merely _presentative_--_i.e._ they not only bring sensations before us, but that they are _self-presentative_--_i.e._ they, moreover, bring themselves before us as sensations. but for this law we should never get beyond our mere subjective modifications; but in virtue of it we necessarily get beyond them; for the results of the law are, st, that we, the subject, restrict ourselves to, or identify ourselves with, the senses, not as displayed in their primary sphere, (the large circle a,) but as falling within their own ken as sensations, in their secondary sphere, (the small circle a.) this smaller sphere is our own bodily frame; and does not each individual look upon himself as vested in his own bodily frame? and ndly, it is a necessary consequence of this investment or restriction, that every sensation which lies beyond the sphere of the senses, viewed as sensations, (_i.e._ which lies beyond the body,) must be, in the most unequivocal sense of the words, a real independent object. if the reader wants a name to characterise this system, he may call it the system of _absolute or thorough-going presentationism_. [ ] we say _living_, because every attempt hitherto made to explain sensation, has been founded on certain appearances manifested in the _dead_ subject. by inspecting a dead carcass we shall never discover the principle of vision. yet, though there is no seeing in a dead eye, or in a camera obscura, optics deal exclusively with such inanimate materials; and hence the student who studies them will do well to remember, that optics are the science of vision, with the _fact_ of vision left entirely out of the consideration. * * * * * on the best means of establishing a commercial intercourse between the atlantic and pacific oceans. to shorten the navigation between the eastern and western divisions of our globe, either by discovering a north-west passage into the pacific, or opening a route across the american continent, with european philosophers and statesmen has for centuries been a favourite project, and yet in only one way has it been attempted. large sums of money were successively voted and expended, in endeavouring to penetrate through the arctic sea; and such is the persevering enterprise of our mariners, that in all likelihood this gigantic task eventually will be accomplished: but, even if it should, it is questionable whether a navigable opening in that direction would prove beneficial to commerce. the floating ice with which those high latitudes are encumbered; the intricacy of the navigation; the cold and tempestuous weather generally prevailing there, and the difficulty of obtaining aid, in cases of shipwreck, must continue to deter the ordinary navigator from following that track. enquiry, therefore, naturally turns to the several points on the middle part of the american continent, where, with the aid of art, it is supposed that a communication across may be effected. these are five in number, and the facilities for the undertaking which each affords, have been discussed by a few modern travellers, commencing with humboldt. on a close investigation into the subject, it will, however, appear evident, that although the cutting of a canal on some point or order, may be within the compass of human exertion, still the undertaking would require an enormous outlay of capital, besides many years to accomplish it; and even if it should be completed, the result could never answer the expectations formed upon this subject in europe. on all the points proposed, and more especially in reference to the long lines, the difficulty of rendering rivers navigable, which in the winter are swelled into impetuous torrents; the want of population along the greater part of the distances to be cut; the differences of elevation; and, above all, the shallowness of the water on all the extremities of the cuts projected, thus only affording admission to small vessels, are among the impediments which, for the time being at least, appear almost insuperable. without entering further into the obstacles which present themselves to the formation of a canal along any one of the lines alluded to, i shall at once come to the conclusion, that for all the practical purposes of commercial intercourse which the physical circumstances of the country allow, a railroad is preferable, and may be constructed at infinitely less expense. this position once established, the question next to be asked is, which is the most eligible spot for the work proposed? on a careful examination of the relative merits of the several lines pointed out, that of the isthmus of panama unquestionably appears to be the most eligible. from its central position, and the short distance intervening between the two oceans, it seems, indeed, to be providentially destined to become the connecting link between the eastern and western worlds; and hence its being made a thoroughfare for all nations, must be a subject of the utmost importance to those engaged in commerce. some of our most eminent public writers of the day, anticipating the advantages likely to result from the emancipation of spanish america, considered the opening of a passage across that isthmus as one of the mightiest events which could present itself to the enterprise of man; and it is well known, that during mr pitt's administration projects on this subject were submitted to him--some of them even attempting to show the feasibility of cutting a canal across, sufficiently deep and wide to admit vessels of the largest class. report says, that the minister frequently spoke in rapturous terms on the supposed facilities of this grand project; and it is believed, that the sanguine hopes of its realization had great weight with him when forming his plans for the independence of the southern division of the new world. the same idea prevailed in europe for the greater part of the last century; but yet no survey was instituted--no steps taken to obtain correct data on the subject. humboldt revived it; and yet this great and beneficial scheme again remained neglected, and, to all appearance, forgotten. at length the possession of the marquesas islands by the french, brought the topic into public notice, when, towards the close of last april, and while submitting the project of a law to the chamber of deputies for a grant of money to cover the expenses of a government establishment in the new settlements, admiral roussin expressed himself thus:--"the advantages of our new establishments, incontestable as they are even at present, will assume a far greater importance hereafter. they will become of great value, should a plan which, at the present moment, fixes the attention of all maritime nations, be realized, namely, to open, through the isthmus of panama, a passage between europe and the pacific, instead of going round by cape horn. when this great event, alike interesting to all naval powers, shall have been effected, the society and marquesas islands, by being brought so much nearer to france, will take a prominent place among the most important stations of the world. the facility of this communication will necessarily give a new activity to the navigation of the pacific ocean; since this way will be, if not the shortest to the indian and chinese seas, certainly the safest, and, in a commercial point of view, unquestionably the most important." in his speech in support of the grant, m. gaizot, in the sitting of the th inst., asserted that the project of piercing the isthmus of panama was not a chimerical one, and proceeded to read a letter from professor humbolt, dated angust , in which that learned gentleman observed, that "it was twenty-five years since a project for a communication between the two oceans, either by the isthmus of panama, the lake of nicaragua, or by the isthmus of capica, had been proposed and topographically discussed; and yet nothing had been yet commenced." the french minister also read extracts from a paper addressed to the academy of sciences, by an american gentleman named warren, advocating the practicability of a canal, by means of the rivers vinotinto, beverardino, and farren, after which he enthusiastically exclaimed, that should this great work ever be accomplished--and in his own mind he had no doubt that some day or other it would--then the value of oceana would be greatly increased, and france would have many reasons to congratulate herself on the possession of them. this has thus become one of the most popular topics in france, where the views of the minister are no longer concealed, and in england are we slumbering upon it? certainly we have as great an interest in the accomplishment of the grand design as the french, and possibly possess more correct information on the subject than they do. why, then, is it withheld from the public? what are our government doing? to supply this deficiency, as far as his means allow, is the object of the writer of these pages; and in order to show the degree of credit to which his remarks may be entitled, and his reasons for differing from the french as regards the means by which the great desideratum is to be achieved, he will briefly state, that in early life he left europe under the prevailing impression that the opening of a canal across the isthmus of panama was practicable; but while in the west indies, some doubts on the subject having arisen in his mind, he determined to visit the spot, which he did at his own expense, and at some personal risk--the spaniards being still in possession of the country. with this view he ascended the river chagre to cruces, and thence proceeded by land to panama, where he stopped a fortnight. in that time he made several excursions into the interior, and had a fair opportunity of hearing the sentiments of intelligent natives; but, although he then came to the conclusion that a canal of large dimensions was impracticable, he saw the possibility of opening a railroad, with which, in his opinion, european nations ought to be satisfied, at least for the present. why he assumed this position, a description of the locality will best explain. the river chagre, which falls into the atlantic, is the nearest transitable point to panama, but unfortunately the harbour does not admit vessels drawing more than twelve feet water.[ ] there the traveller embarks in a _bonjo_, (a flat-bottomed boat,) or in a canoe, made of the trunk of a cedar-tree, grown on the banks to an enormous size. the velocity of the downward current is equal to three miles an hour, and greater towards the source. the ascent is consequently tedious; often the rowers are compelled to pole the boat along, a task, under a burning sun, which could only be performed by negroes. in the upper part of the stream the navigation is obstructed by shallows, so much so as to render the operation of unloading unavoidable. large trunks of trees, washed down by the rains, and sometimes embedded in the sands, also occasionally choke up the channel, impediments which preclude the possibility of a steam power being used beyond a certain distance up. no boat can ascend higher than cruces, a village in a direct line not more than twenty-two miles from chagre harbour; but owing to the sinuosities of the river, the distance to be performed along it is nearly double. to stem the current requires from three to eight days, according to the season, whereas the descent does not take more than from eight to twelve hours. from cruces to panama the distance is five leagues, over a broken and hilly country. the town is situated at the head of the gulf, on a neck of land washed by the waters of the pacific; but the port is only accessible to flat-bottomed boats, owing to which it is called _las piraguas_. the harbour, or rather the roadstead, is formed by a cluster of small islands lying about six miles from the shore, under the shelter of which vessels find safe anchorage. the tides rise high, and, falling in the same proportion, the sloping coast is left dry to a considerable distance out--a circumstance which precludes the possibility of forming an outlet in front of panama. the obstacles above enumerated at once convinced the writer that a ship canal in this direction was impracticable. the spanish plan was to make the chagre navigable a considerable distance up, by removing the shallows and deepening the channel; but owing to the great inclination in the descent, and the immense volumes of water rushing down in winter, the task would be a most herculean one; and, even if accomplished, this part of the route could only serve for small craft. a canal over five leagues of hilly ground would still remain to be cut. although the plan, so long and so fondly cherished in europe, and now revived in france, must, for the reasons here assigned, be abandoned, on this account we ought not to be deterred from availing ourselves of such facilities as the locality affords. the geographical position of the isthmus of panama is too interesting to be any longer disregarded. "when the spanish discoverers first overcame the range of mountains which divide the western from the atlantic shores of south america," said a distinguished statesman,[ ] "they stood fixed in silent admiration, gazing on the vast expanse of the southern ocean which lay stretched before them in boundless prospect. they adored--even those hardened and sanguinary adventurers adored--the gracious providence of heaven, which, after lapse of so many centuries had opened to mankind so wonderful a field of untried and unimagined enterprize." the very same point of land where, in , the spaniards first beheld the pacific, is the spot formed by nature for the realization of those advantages which their cautious policy caused them to overlook. the creator seems to have intended it for general use--as the highway of nations; and yet, after a period of more than three centuries, scarcely has the solitude which envelopes this interesting strip of land been broken. is europe or america to blame for this? [ ] this is the first impediment to an oceanic canal, and one equally felt on the other proposed lines. captain sir edward belcher, when recently surveying the western coasts of america, availed himself of the opportunity to explore the estero real, a river on the pacific side, which he did by ascending it to the distance of thirty miles from its mouth, but he found that it only admits a vessel drawing ten feet water. that intelligent officer considered this an advantageous line for a canal, which by lake navigation, he concluded might be connected with san salvador, honduras, nicaragua, and extended to the atlantic; but the distance is immense, the country thinly inhabited, and besides unhealthy, and, after all, it could only serve for boats. [ ] lord grenville in his speech on indian affairs, april , . in the present state of our trade, and the increasing competition which we are likely to experience, unquestionably it would be advisable for british subjects to exert themselves in securing a free passage across the isthmus above-named. it is not, however, to be imagined that this is a new project in our history. towards the close of the seventeenth century, one was formed in scotland for the establishment of a national company to trade with the indies through the pacific, which became so popular that most of the royal burghs subscribed to it. the scheme originated with william patterson, a scotchman, of a bold and enterprizing character, who, in early life, is supposed to have been a bucanier, and to have traversed several sections of south america. at all events, he seems to have been acquainted with the views of captain, afterwards sir henry morgan, who, in , took and burned panama. in england, the "scots company" was strenuously opposed by the incorporated traders to the east indies, as well as by the west india merchants. parliament equally took the alarm, and prayed the king not to sanction the scheme. so powerful did this opposition at length become, that the sums subscribed were withdrawn. nothing daunted by this failure, patterson resolved to engraft upon his original plan one for the establishment of an emporium on the isthmus of darien, whither he anticipated that european goods would be sent, and thence conveyed to the western shores of america, the pacific islands, and asia; and, in order to attract notice and gain support, he proposed that the new settlement should be made a free port, and all distinctions of religion, party, and nation banished. the project was much liked in the north of europe, but again scouted at the english court; when the scotch, indignant at the opposition which their commercial prospects experienced from king william's ministers, which they attributed to a contrariety of interests on the part of the english, subscribed among themselves l. , for the object in view, and l. , more were, in the same manner, raised at hamburg; but, in consequence of a remonstrance presented to the senate of that city by the english resident, the latter sum was called in. eventually, in , patterson sailed with five large vessels, having on board followers, all scotch, and many of them belonging to the best families, furnished with provisions and merchandise; and, on arriving on the coast of darien, took possession of a small peninsula lying between porto bello and carthagena, where he built the fort of st andrew. the settlement was called new caledonia; and the directors having taken every precaution for its security, entered into negotiations with the independent indians in the neighbourhood, by whom it is believed that the tenure of the "scots company" was sanctioned. the spaniards took offence at this alleged aggression, and angry complaints were forwarded to the court of st james's. to these king william listened with something like complacency, his policy at the time being to temporize with spain, in order to prevent the aggrandizement of the french bourbons. the new settlement was accordingly denounced, in proclamations issued by the authorities of jamaica, barbadoes, and the american plantations, and soon afterwards attacked by a spanish force. pressed on all sides, the adventurers, for a period of eight months, bore up against accumulated misfortunes; when at length, receiving no succours from their copartners at home, convinced that they had to contend against the hostility of the english government, and their provisions being exhausted, the survivors were compelled to abandon their enterprise and return to scotland. to add to their chagrin, a few days after their departure two vessels arrived with supplies and a small reinforcement of men. incensed at the second failure of their favourite scheme, the scotch endeavoured to obtain from king william an acknowledgment of the national right to the territory of new caledonia, and some reparation for the loss sustained by the disappointed settlers. unsuccessful in their application, they next presented an address to the ruling power, praying that their parliament might be assembled, in order to take the matter into consideration; when, at the first meeting, angry and spirited resolutions were passed upon the subject. no redress was, however, obtained; and thus terminated the darien scheme of the seventeenth century, founded, no one will venture to deny, on an enlarged view of our commercial interests, and a just conception of the means by which they might have been promoted. in the state of our existing treaties with spain, the seizure of territory possibly was unjust, the moment unseasonable, and the plan, in one respect, obviously defective, inasmuch as the projectors had not taken into account the hostility of the spaniards, and could not, consequently, rely on an outlet for their merchandize in the pacific. had the scheme been delayed, or had the settlement survived some months longer, the war of succession would, however, have given to the adventurers a right of tenure stronger than any they could have obtained from the english court; for it is to be borne in mind that, on the d of november , charles ii. of spain died leaving his crown to a french branch of the house of bourbon--an event which threw europe into a blaze, and, in the ensuing year, led to the formation of the grand alliance. this short digression may serve to show the spirit of the age towards the close of the seventeenth century, and more particularly the light in which the scotch viewed an attempt, made nearly a century and a half ago, to establish a commercial intercourse with the pacific; and, had they then succeeded, other objects of still mightier import than those at first contemplated--other benefits of a more extended operation, would have been included in the results. the opportunity was lost, evidently through the want of support from the ruling power; but it must have been curious to see the english government, at the close of the war, endeavouring to have conceded to them by the spanish court, and in virtue of the memorable aziento contract of , those very same advantages which the "scots company" sought to secure, by their own private efforts, and almost in defiance of a most powerful interest. and when our prospects in the same quarter have been enlarged, to an extent far beyond the most sanguine expectations of our forefathers--when, through the independence of south america, we have had the fairest opportunities of entering into combinations with the natives for the accomplishment of the grand design--is it yet to be said that spirited and enlightened englishmen are not to be found, ready and willing enough to support a scheme advantageous to the whole commercial community of europe? it is confidently understood that the best information on the subject has been submitted to her majesty's government, even recently. if so, is it then a fact that no one member of the cabinet has shown a disposition to lend a helping hand? but what have the south americans done in furtherance of the scheme in question? among the projects contemplated by bolivar, the liberator, for the improvement of his native land, as soon as its independence should have been consolidated, was one to form a junction between the neighbouring oceans, so far as nature and the circumstances of the country would allow. in november , he accordingly commissioned mr john augustus lloyd, an englishman, to make a survey of the isthmus of panama, "in order to ascertain," as that gentleman himself tells us, "the best and most eligible line of communication, whether by road or canal, between the two seas." in march the commissioner arrived at panama, where he was joined by a swedish officer of engineers in the colombian service, and, provided with suitable instruments, they proceeded to perform the task assigned to them.[ ] their first care was to determine the relative height of the two oceans, when, from their observations, it appeared that the tides are regular on both sides of the isthmus, and the time of high water nearly the same at panama and chagre. the rise in the pacific is, however, the greatest, the mean height at panama being rather more than three feet above that of the atlantic at chagre; but, as in every twelve hours the pacific falls six feet more than the atlantic, it is in that same proportion lower; yet, as soon as the tide has flowed fully in, the level assumes its usual elevation. although the measurements of bolivar's commissioners were not, perhaps, performed with all the exactitude that could have been wished, sufficient was then and since ascertained to establish the fact, that the difference between the levels of the two oceans is not so great as to cause any derangement, in case the intervening ground could be pierced. [ ] the result of their labours was published in the _philosophic transactions_ for , accompanied by drawings. in the pursuit of his object, mr lloyd seems altogether to set aside the idea of a canal, and leaving his readers to judge which is the best expedient to answer the end proposed, he thus describes the topography and capabilities of the country:--"it is generally supposed in europe that the great chain of mountains, which, in south america, forms the andes, continues nearly unbroken through the isthmus. this, however, is not the case. the northern cordillera breaks into detached mountains on the eastern side of the province of vevagna, which are of considerable height, extremely abrupt and rugged, and frequently exhibit an almost perpendicular face of bare rock. to these succeed numerous conical mountains, rising out of savannahs or plains, and seldom exceeding from to feet in height. finally, between chagre on the atlantic side, and chorrera on the pacific side, the conical mountains are not so numerous, having plains of great extent, interspersed with occasional insulated ranges of hills, of inconsiderable height and extent. from this description, it will be seen," continues mr lloyd, "that the spot where the continent of america is reduced to nearly its narrowest limits, is also distinguished by a break for a few miles of the great chain of mountains, which otherwise extend, with but few exceptions, to its extreme northern and southern limits. this combination of circumstances points out the peculiar fitness of the isthmus of panama for the establishment of a communication across." here, then, we have an avowal, from the best authority before the public, and founded on a survey of the ground, that the intervening country is sufficiently open, even for a canal, if skilfully undertaken, and with adequate funds--consequently it cannot present any physical obstacles in the way of a railroad which cannot readily be overcome. the same opinion was formed by the writer of these pages, when, at a much earlier period, he viewed the plains from the heights at the back of panama; and that opinion was borne out by natives who had traversed the ground as far as the forests and brushwood allowed. in the sitting of the royal academy of sciences, held in paris on the th of last december, baron humboldt reported, that the preparatory labours for cutting a canal across the isthmus of panama were rapidly advancing; to which he added that the commission appointed by the government of new granada had terminated their survey of the localities, after arriving at a result as fortunate as it was unexpected. "the chain of the cordilleras," he observed, "does not extend, as it was formerly supposed, across, since a valley favourable to the operation had been discovered, and the natural position of the waters might also be rendered useful. three rivers," the baron proceeded to say, "had been explored, over which an easy control might be established; and these rivers, there was every reason to think, might be made partially navigable, and afterwards connected with the proposed canal, the excavations for which would not extend beyond - / miles in length. it was further expected that the fall might be regulated by four double locks, feet in length; by which means the total extent of the canal would not be more than miles, with a width of feet at the surface, at the base, and in depth, sufficiently capacious for the admission of a vessel measuring to tons. it was estimated by m. morel, a french engineer, that the cost of these several works would not be more than fourteen millions of francs." this is a confirmation of the fact, that on the isthmus facilities exist for either cutting a canal, or constructing a railroad; but while the french seem inclined to revive the primitive project, it is to be feared that they overlook the paramount difficulty, which, as already noticed, occurs on both sides, through the want of water. unless admission and an outlet can be obtained for men-of-war, and the usual class of vessels trading to india, it would scarcely be worth while to attempt a canal, and it has not been ascertained that both those essential requisites can be found. the other plan must therefore be held to be the surest and most economical. this also seems to have been the conclusion at which mr lloyd arrived. having made up his mind that a railroad is best adapted to the locality, he proceeds to trace two lines, starting from the same terminus, near the atlantic, and terminating at different points on the pacific, respecting which he expresses himself thus:--"two lines are marked on the map, commencing at a point near the junction of the rivers chagre and trinidad, and crossing the plains, the one to chorrera, and the other to panama. these lines indicate the directions which i consider the best for a railroad communication. the principal difficulty in the establishment of such a communication, would arise from the number of rivulets to be crossed, which, though dry in summer, become considerable streams in the rainy season. the line which crosses to chorrera is much the shortest, but the other has the advantage of terminating in the city and harbour of panama. the country intersected by these lines is by no means so abundant in woods as in other parts, but has fine savannahs, and throughout the whole distance, as well as on each bank of the trinidad, presents flat, and sometimes swampy country, with occasional detached sugar-loaf mountains, interspersed with streams that mostly empty themselves into the chagre." would it not, then, be more advisable to act on this suggestion, than run the risk and incur the expense of a canal? on all hands it is agreed, that as far as the mouth of the trinidad the chagre is navigable for vessels drawing twelve feet water, by which means twelve or fourteen miles of road, and a long bridge besides, would be saved. under this supposition, the proposed line from the junction of the two rivers to panama would be about thirty miles, and to chorrera twenty four; while on neither of them does any other difficulty present itself than the one mentioned by mr lloyd. "should the time arrive," says that gentleman, "when a project of a water communication across the isthmus may be entertained, the river trinidad will probably appear the most favourable route. that river is for some distance both broad and deep, and its banks are also well suited for wharfs, especially in the neighbourhood of the spot whence the lines marked for a railroad communication commence." it therefore only remains to be determined which of the two lines is the preferable one; and this depends more on the facilities afforded by the bay of chorrera for the admission of vessels, than the difference in the distances. however desirable it might be to have panama as the pacific station, it will already have been noticed, that the great distance from the shore at which vessels are obliged to anchor, is a serious impediment to loading and unloading--operations which are rendered more tedious by the heavy swell at certain seasons setting into the gulf. the distance from chorrera to panama, over a level part of the coast, is only ten miles. should it therefore be deemed expedient, these two places may afterwards be connected by means of a branch line. as regards the difficulty mentioned by mr lloyd, arising out of "the number of rivulets to be crossed," it may be observed that this section of the country remains in nearly the same state as that in which it was left by nature. no artificial means have been adopted for drainage; but the assurances of intelligent natives warrant the belief, that by cross-cuts the smaller rivulets may be made to run into the larger ones, whereby the number to be crossed would be materially diminished. the contiguous lands abound in superior stone, easily dug, and well suited for the construction of causeways as well as arches; while the magnificent forests, which rear their lofty heads to the north of the projected line, would for sleepers furnish any quantity of an almost incorruptible and even incombustible wood, resembling teak.[ ] the honourable p. campbell scarlett, one of the last travellers of note who crossed the isthmus and favoured the pubic with the result of his observations, says, "that for a ship canal the locality would not answer, but presents the greatest facilities for the transfer of merchandize by river and canal, sufficiently deep for steam-boats, at a comparatively trifling expense."[ ] he then proceeds to remark, "that mr lloyd seemingly turned his attention more to the practicability of a railroad along the level country between the mouth of the trinidad and the town or river of chorrera, and no doubt a railroad would be very beneficial;" adding, "that an explicit understanding would be necessary to prevent interruption, (meaning with the local government and ruling power:) and the subject assuredly is of sufficient magnitude and importance to justify, if not call on, the british government, or any other power, to encourage and sanction the enterprise by a solemn treaty." in proportion to its size, no town built by the spaniards in the western world contains so many good edifices as panama, although many of them are now falling to decay. it was rebuilt subsequent to the fire in , and from the ornamental parts of some structures, it is evident that superior workmen were employed in their erection;[ ] and should notice at any time be given that public works were about to commence there, accompanied by an assurance that artisans would meet with due encouragement, thither able-bodied men would flock, even from the west indies and the united states. hardy mulattoes, meztizoes, free negroes, and indians, may be assembled upon the spot, among whom are good masons and experienced hewers of wood; and, being intelligent and tractable, european skill and example alone would be requisite to direct them. the existence of coal along the shores of chili and peru, is also another encouraging feature in the scheme;[ ] and as the ground for a railroad would cost a mere trifle, if any thing, the whole might be completed at a comparatively small expense. the profits derivable from the undertaking, when accomplished, are too obvious to require enumeration. the rates levied on letters, passengers, and merchandize, after leaving a proportionate revenue to the local government, must produce a large sum, which would progressively increase as the route became more frequented. mines exist in the neighbourhood, at present neglected owing to the difficulty of the smelting process. it may hereafter be worth while for return vessels to bring the rough mineral obtained from them to europe, as is now done with copper ore from cuba, colombia, and chili. ship timber, of the largest dimensions and best qualities, may also be had. the charges on the transit of merchandize would never be so heavy as even the rates of insurance round cape horn and the cape of good hope. the first of these great headlands mariners know full well is a fearful barrier, advancing into the cheerless deep amidst storms, rocks, islands, and currents, to avoid which the navigator is often compelled to go several degrees more to the south than his track requires; whereby the voyage is not only lengthened, but his water and provisions so far exhausted, that frequently he is under the necessity of making the first port he can in chili, or seeking safety on the african coast. [ ] ulloa (book iii. chap. ) remarks, that although the greater part of the houses in panama were formerly built of wood, fires very rarely occurred; the nature of the timber being such, that if lighted embers are laid upon the floor, or wall made of it, the only consequence is, that it makes a hole without producing a flame. [ ] america and the pacific, . [ ] ulloa affirms, that the greater part of the houses in panama are now built of stone; all sorts of materials for edifices of this kind being found there in the greatest abundance. mr scarlett also acknowledges that he there saw more specimens of architectural beauty than in any other town of south america which he had occasion to visit. [ ] in the writer had coal in his possession, in london, brought from the vicinity of lima, which he had coked and tried in a variety of ways. it was gaseous and resembled that dug in the united states. since that period coal has been found near talcahuano and at valdivia, on the coast of chili; on the island of chiloe, and on that of san lorenzo, opposite to lima; in the valley of tambo, near islay; at guacho, and even further down on the coast of guayaquil. mr scarlett quotes a letter from the earl of dundonald. (lord cochrane,) in which his lordship affirms, "that there is plenty of coal at talcahuano, in the province of conception." it was used on board of her majesty's ship blossom; and mr mason, of her majesty's ship seringspatam, pronounced it good when not taken too near the surface. mr wheelright, the american gentleman who formed the steam navigation company along the western coast, coked the coal found there; and in the general plan for the formation of his company, assured the public that "coal exists on various parts of the chili coast in great abundance, and will afford an ample supply for steam operations on the pacific at a very moderate expense." the fact is confirmed by various other testimonies, and there is every reason to believe that coal will be hereafter found at no great distance from panama. to escape from the perils and delays of this circuitous route has long been the anxious wish of all commercial nations, and to a certain extent this may be accomplished in the manner here pointed out. in the course of time, and in case prospects are sufficiently encouraging--or, in other words, should the surveys required for a ship canal correspond with the hopes entertained upon this subject by the french--the great desideratum might then be attempted. the work done would not interfere with any other afterwards undertaken on an increased scale. on the contrary, a railroad would continue its usual traffic, and afford great assistance. fortunately the obstruction to the admission of vessels into chagre harbour, on the atlantic side, may be obviated, as will appear from the following passage in mr lloyd's report--a point of extreme importance in the prosecution of any ulterior design; but even then the great difficulty remains to be overcome on the pacific shore:-- "the river chagre," says the colombian commissioner, "its channel, and the barks which in the dry season embarrass its navigation, are laid down in my manuscript plan with great care and minuteness. it is subject to one great inconvenience; viz. that vessels drawing more than twelve feet water cannot enter the river, even in perfectly calm weather, on account of a stratum of slaty limestone which runs, at a depth at high water of fifteen feet, from a point on the mainland to some rocks in the middle of the entrance into the harbour, and which are just even with the water's edge. this, together with the lee current that sets on the southern shore, particularly in the rainy season, renders the entrance extremely difficult and dangerous. the value of the chagre, considered as the port of entrance for all communication, whether by the river chagre, trinidad, or by railroad, across the plains, is greatly limited owing to the above-mentioned cause. it would, in all cases, prove a serious disqualification, were it not one which admits of a simple and effectual remedy, arising from the proximity of the bay of limon, otherwise called navy bay, with which the river might be easily connected. the coves of this bay afford excellent and secure anchorage in its present state, and the whole harbour is capable of being rendered, by obvious and not very expensive means, one of the most commodious and safe in the world." after expressing his gratitude for the good offices of her majesty's consul at panama, and the services rendered to him by the officers of her majesty's ship victor, with the aid of whose boats, and the assistance of the master, he made his survey of the bay of limon, obtained soundings, and constructed his plan, (the shores of which bay, he says, are therein laid down trigonometrically from a base of yards)--mr lloyd remarks thus, "it will be seen by this plan that the distance from one of the best coves, in respect to anchorage, across the separating country from the chagre, and in the most convenient track, is something less than three miles to a point in the river about three miles from its mouth. i have traversed the intervening land, which is perfectly level, and in all respects suitable for a canal, which, being required for so short a distance, might well be made of a sufficient depth to admit vessels of any reasonable draught of water, and would obviate the inconvenience of the shallows at the entrance of the chagre." granting, however, that the admission from the atlantic into the chagre of a larger class of vessels than those drawing twelve feet might be thus facilitated, according to mr lloyd's own avowal a breakwater would still be necessary at the entrance of limon bay, which is situated round point brujas, about eight geographical miles higher up towards porto bello than the mouth of that river, as the heavy sea setting into the bay would render the anchorage of vessels insecure. an immense deal of work would consequently still remain to be performed before a corresponding outlet into the pacific could be obtained; and whether this can be accomplished is yet problematical. in the interval, a railroad, on the plan above suggested, would answer many, although not all the purposes desired by the commercial community, and serve as a preparatory step for a canal, should it be deemed feasible. after the country has been cleared of wood and properly explored--after the population has been more concentrated, and the opinions of experienced men obtained--a project of oceanic navigation may succeed; but, for the present, we ought to be content with the best and cheapest expedient that can be devised; and the distance is so short, and the facilities for the enterprise so palpable, that a few previous combinations, and a small capital only, are required to carry it into effect. by using the waters of the chagre and trinidad, a material part of the distance across is saved;[ ] and as, as before explained, the ground will cost nothing, and excellent and cheap materials exist, the work might be performed at a comparatively trifling expense. when completed, the trip from sea to sea would not take more than from six to eight hours. avowedly, no ocean is so well adapted for steam navigation as the pacific. except near cape horn, and in the higher latitudes to the north-west, on its glassy surface storms are seldom encountered. with their heavy ships, the spaniards often made voyages from manilla to acapulco in sixty-five days, without having once had occasion to take in their light sails. the ulterior consequences, therefore, of a more general introduction of steam power into that new region, connected with a highway across the isthmus of panama, no one can calculate. the experiment along the shores of chili and peru has already commenced; and the cheap rate at which fossil fuel can be had has proved a great facility. under circumstances so peculiarly propitious, to what an extent, then, may not steam navigation be carried on the smooth expanse of the southern ocean? if there are two sections of the globe more pre-eminently suited for commercial intercourse than others, they are the western shores of america and southern asia. to these two markets, consequently, will the attention of manufacturing nations be turned; and, should the project here proposed be carried into effect, depots of merchandize will be formed on and near the isthmus, when the riches of europe and america will move more easily towards asia; while, in return, the productions of asia will be wafted towards america and europe. if we entertain the expectation, that at no distant period of time our west india possessions will become advanced posts, and aid in the development of the resources abounding in that extended and varied region at the entrance of which they are stationed--if the several islands there which hoist the british flag are destined to be resting-places for that trade between great britain and the southern sea, now opening to european industry--these two great interests cannot be so effectually advanced as by the means above suggested. [ ] mr scarlett says, that the depth of water at chagre is sufficient for steamers and large schooners, which can be navigated without obstruction as far up as the mouth of the trinidad. by descending that river, he himself crossed the isthmus in seventeen hours--viz. from panama to cruces, eight; and thence to chagre, nine. mr wheelright, the american gentleman above quoted, says that the transit of the isthmus during the dry season, (from november to june--and wet from june to november,) is neither inconvenient nor unpleasant. the canoes are covered, provisions and fruits cheap along the banks of the chagre, and there is always personal security. the temperature, although warm, is healthy. at the same time it must be confessed, that in the rainy season a traveller is subject to great exposure and consequent illness; but if the railroad was roofed this objection might be removed. it is on all hands agreed, that the climate of the isthmus would be greatly improved by drainage, and clearing the country of the immense quantities of vegetable matter left rotting on the ground. the beds of seaweed, in a constant state of decomposition on the pacific shore, create miasmata unquestionably injurious to health. it has generally been thought that the long-neglected isthmus of suez is the shortest road to india, but besides being precarious, and suited only for the conveyance of light weights, that line only embraces one object; whereas the establishment of a communication across that of panama, would be like the creation of a new geographical and commercial world--it would bring two extremities of the earth closer together, and, besides, connect many intermediate points. it would open to european nations the portals to a new field of enterprise, and complete the series of combinations forming to develop the riches with which the pacific abounds, by presenting to european industry a new group of producers and consumers. the remotest regions of the east would thus come more under the influence of european civilization; while, by a quicker and safer intercourse, our indian possessions would be rendered more secure, and our new connexion with china strengthened. besides the wealth arriving from asia and the islands in the wide pacific, the produce of acapulco, san blas, california, nootka sound, and the columbia river, on the one side, and of guayaquil, peru, and chili, on the other, would come to the atlantic by a shorter route, at the same time that we might receive advices from new holland and new zealand with only half the delay we now do. the mere recurrence to a map will at once show, that the isthmus of panama is destined to become a great commercial thoroughfare, and, at a moderate expense, might be made the seat of an extensive trade. by the facilities of communication across, new wants would be created; and, as fresh markets open to european enterprise, a proportionate share of the supplies would fall to our lot. in the present depressed state of our commercial relations, some effort must be made to apply the industry of the country to a larger range of objects. a century of experiments and labour has changed the face of nature in our own country, quadrupled the produce of our lands, and extended a green mantle over districts which once wore the appearance of barren wastes; but the consumption of our manufactures abroad has not risen in the same proportion. it behoves us, then, to explore and secure new markets, which can best be done by connecting ourselves with those regions to which the isthmus of panama is the readiest avenue. in a mercantile point of view, the importance of the western coasts of america is only partially known to us. with the exception of valparaiso and lima, our merchants seldom visit the various ports along that extended line, to which the establishment of the hudson's bay company on the columbia river gives a new feature. although abounding in the elements of wealth, in many of these secluded regions the spark of commercial life has scarcely been awakened by foreign intercourse. our whale-fisheries in the pacific may also require more protection than they have hitherto done; and if we ever hope to have it in our power to obtain live alpacas from peru as a new stock in this country, and at a rate cheap enough for the farmer to purchase and naturalize them, it must be by the way of panama, by which route guano manure may also be brought over to us at one half of the present charges. we are now sending bonedust and other artificial composts to jamaica and our other islands in the west indies, in order to restore the soil, impoverished by successive sugar-cane crops, while the most valuable fertilizer, providentially provided on the other side of the isthmus, remains entirely neglected. the establishment of a more direct intercourse with the pacific, it will therefore readily be acknowledged, is an undertaking worthy of a great nation, and conformable to the spirit of the age in which we are living--an undertaking which would do more honour to great britain, and ultimately prove more beneficial to our merchants, than any other that possibly could be devised. nor is it to be imagined that other nations are insensible to the advantages which they would derive from an opening of this kind. the feelings and sentiments of the french upon this subject have already been briefly noticed. the king of holland has expressed himself favourable to the undertaking, nor are the belgians behind hand in their good wishes for its accomplishment. if possible, the north americans have a larger and more immediate interest in its success than the commercial nations of europe. ever since their acquisition of louisiana, a general spirit of enterprise has directed a large portion of their population towards the head waters of the mississippi and missouri--a spirit which impels a daring and thrifty race of men gradually to advance towards the north-west. captain clark's excursion in , had for its object the discovery of a route to the pacific by connecting the missouri and columbia rivers, a subject on which, even at that early period, he expressed himself thus:--"i consider this track across the continent of immense advantage to the fur trade, as all the furs collected in nine-tenths of the most valuable fur country in america, may be conveyed to the mouth of the columbia river, and thence shipped to the east indies by the th of august in each year, and will, of course, reach canton earlier than the furs which are annually exported from montreal arrive in great britain." this extract will suffice to show the spirit of emulation by which the citizens of the union were, even at so remote a period, actuated in reference to the north-west coast of america--a spirit which has since manifested itself in a variety of ways, and in much stronger terms. the distance overland is, however, too great, and the population too scanty, for this route to be rendered available for the general purposes of traffic, at least for many years to come. the north americans have, therefore, turned their attention to other points offering facilities of communication with the pacific; and the line to which they have usually given the preference is the mexican, or more northern one, across the isthmus of tehuantepec, situated partly in the province of oaxaca and partly in that of vera cruz. the facilities afforded by this locality have been described by several tourists; but supposing that the river guassacualco, on the atlantic, is, or can be made navigable for large vessels as high up as the isthmus of tehuantepec, (as to deep water at the entrance, there is no doubt,) still a carriage road for at least sixteen leagues would be necessary. the intervening land, although it may contain some favourable breaks, is nevertheless avowedly so high, that from some of the mountain summits the two oceans my be easily seen. the obstacles to a road, and much more so to a canal, are therefore very considerable; and a suitable and corresponding outlet into the pacific, besides, has not yet been discovered. this, then, is by no means so eligible a spot as the isthmus of panama. from its situation, the tehuantepec route would, nevertheless, be extremely valuable to the north americans; and it must not be forgotten that, in this stirring age, there is scarcely an undertaking that baffles the ingenuity of man. owing to their position, the north americans would gain more by shortening the passage to the pacific than ourselves; and tehuantepec being the nearest point to them suited for that object, and also the one which they could most effectually control, it is more than probable that, at some future period, they will use every effort to have it opened. the country through which the line would pass is confessedly richer, healthier, and more populous, than that contiguous to the lake of nicaragua, or across the isthmus of panama; but should the work projected ever be carried into execution, eventually this route must become an american monopoly. the citizens of the united states, it will therefore readily be believed, are keenly alive to the subject, and calculate thus:--a steamer leaving the mississippi can reach guassacualco in six days; in seven, her cargo might be transferred across the isthmus of tehuantepec to the pacific, and in fifty more reach china--total, sixty-three days. as an elucidation, let us suppose that the usual route to the same destination, round gape horn, from a more central part of the union--philadelphia, for example--is , miles; in that case the distance saved, independent of less sea risk, would be as follows:--from the delaware to guassacualco, miles; across tehuantepec to the pacific, ; to the sandwich islands, ; to the ladrone do., ; and to canton, --total, , miles; whereby the saving would be , besides affording greater facilities for the application of steam. their estimate of the saving to the columbia river is still more encouraging. from one of their central ports the distance round cape horn is estimated at , miles; whereas by the mexican route it would be, to guassacualco and overland to the pacific, miles, and thence to the columbia river, --total, ; thus leaving the enormous difference of , miles--two-thirds of the distance, besides the advantage of a safer navigation. by the new route, and the aid of steam, a voyage to the destination above named may be performed in thirty instead of a hundred and forty days; and as the population extends towards the north-west, the columbia river must become a place of importance. hitherto the pacific ports of mexico and california have chiefly been supplied with goods carried overland from vera cruz, surcharged with heavy duties and expenses. more need not be said to show that the united states are on the alert; nor can it be imagined that they will allow any favourable opportunity of securing to themselves an easier access to the pacific to escape them. on finding another road open, they would, however, be inclined to desist from seeking a line of communication for themselves. there is, indeed, every reason to expect that they would cheerfully concur in a work, the completion of which would so materially redound to their advantage. nothing, indeed, can be more evident than the fact, that not only great britain and the united states, but also all the commercial nations of europe, are deeply interested in securing for themselves a shorter and safer passage into the great pacific, on terms the most prompt and economical that circumstances will allow; and the success which has attended civilization within the present century, demands that this effort should be made, in which, from her position, great britain is peculiarly called upon to take the initiative. for the last twenty years the panamese have been buoyed up with the hope, that an attempt, of some kind or other, would be made to open a communication across their isthmus, calculated to compensate them for all their losses; and hence they have always been disposed to second the exertions of any respectable party prepared to undertake a work which they cannot themselves accomplish. they have heard of the time of the _galeones_, when the fleet, annually arriving from peru, landed its treasures in their port, which were exultingly carried overland to porto bello, where the fair was held. "on that occasion," says ulloa, "the road was covered with droves of mules, each consisting of above a hundred, laden with boxes of gold and silver," &c. panama then rose into consequence, attaining a state of wealth and prosperity which ceased when the trade from the western shores took another direction. the natives and local authorities would consequently rejoice at an event so favourable to them, and vie with each other in according to the projectors every aid and protection. provisions and rents are cheap, and, under all circumstances, the work might be completed at half the expense it would cost in europe. at various periods foreign individuals have obtained grants to carry the project into execution, but time proved that they were mere speculators, unprovided with capital, and unfortunately death prevented bolivar from realizing his favourite scheme. for the same object, attempts have also been made to form companies; but, owing to the hitherto unsettled state of the government in whose territory the isthmus is situated, the unpopularity of south american enterprizes, and the fact that no grant made to private individuals could afford sufficient security for the outlay of capital, these schemes fell to the ground. the non-performance of the promises made by the grantees, at length induced the congress of new granada to annul all privileges conferred on individuals for the purpose of opening a canal, or constructing a railroad across the isthmus, and notifying that the project should be left open for general competition. this determination, and the ulterior views of the french in that quarter, have again brought the subject under discussion; and it is thought that a fresh attempt will, erelong, be made to organize a company. it must, however, be evident to every reflecting mind, that although the scheme has a claim on the best energies of our countrymen, and is entitled to the efficient patronage of government, yet, even if the funds were for this purpose raised through private agency, the works never could be carried into execution in a manner consistent with the magnitude of the object in view, or the concern administered on a plan calculated to produce the results anticipated. no body of individuals ought, indeed, to receive and hold such a grant as would secure to them the tenure of the lands required for the undertaking. if such a privilege could be rendered valid, it would place in their hands a monopoly liable to abuses. the best expedient would be for the several maritime and commercial nations interested in the success of the enterprize, to unite and enter into combinations, so as to secure for themselves a safe and permanent transit for the benefit of all; and then let the work be undertaken with no selfish or ambitious views, but in a spirit of mutual fellowship; and, when completed, let this be a highway for each party contributing to the expense, enjoyed and protected by all. at first sight this idea may appear romantic--the combinations required may be thought difficult; but every where the extension of commerce is now the order of the day, and the good understanding which prevails among the parties who might be invited to concur in the work, warrants the belief that, at a moment so peculiarly auspicious, little diplomatic ingenuity would be required to procure their assent and co-operation. by means of negotiations undertaken by great britain and conducted in a right spirit, trading nations would be induced to agree and contribute to the expenses of the enterprize in proportion to the advantages which they may hope to derive from its completion. if, for example, the estimate of the cost amounted to half a million sterling, great britain, france, and the united states might contribute l. , each, and the remainder be divided among the minor european states--each having a common right to the property thereby created, and each a commissioner on the spot, to watch over their respective interests. this would be the most honourable and effectual mode of improving facilities to which the commerce and civilization of europe have a claim. it is the settled conviction of the most intelligent persons who have traversed the isthmus, that these facilities exist to the extent herein described and unity of purpose is therefore all that is wanting for the attainment of the end proposed. jealousies would be thus obviated; and to such a concession as the one suggested, the local government could have no objection, as its own people would participate in the benefits flowing from it. this is indeed a tribute due from the new to the old world; nor could the other south american states hesitate to sanction a grant made for a commercial purpose, and for the general advantage of mankind. the isthmus of panama, that interesting portion of their continent, has remained neglected for ages; and so it must continue, at least as regards any great and useful purpose, unless called into notice by extraordinary combinations. with so many prospective advantages before us, it is therefore to be hoped that the time has arrived when great britain will take the initiative, and promote the combinations necessary to establish a commercial intercourse between the atlantic and pacific oceans, an event that would widen the scope for maritime enterprizes more than any that has happened within the memory of the present generation, and connect us more closely with those countries which have lately been the theatre of our triumphs. the east india and hudson's bay companies, the traders to china and the indian archipelago, the australian and new zealand colonists, together with their connexions at home--in a word, all those who are desirous of shortening the tedious and perilous navigation round cape horn and the cape of good hope--would be benefited by the construction of a railroad; which, by making panama an entrepot of supplies for the western shores of america and the islands in the pacific, either in direct communication with great britain or the west india colonies, our manufacturers would participate in the profits of an increased demand for european commodities, which necessarily must follow the accomplishment of so grand a design. * * * * * two dreams. the germans and french differ more from each other in the art and mystery of story-telling than either of them do from the english. it would be very easy to point out tales which are very popular in paris, that would make no sensation at vienna or berlin; and, _vice versa_, we cannot imagine how the french can possibly enter into the spirit of many of the best known authors of deutschland. in england, we are happy to say we can appreciate them all. history, philology, philosophy--in short, all the modes and subdivisions of heavy authorship--we leave out of the question, and address ourselves, on this occasion, to the distinctive characteristics of the two schools of _light_ literature--schools which have a wider influence, and number more scholars, than all the learned academies put together. in this country an outcry has been raised against the french authors in this department, and in favour of the germans, on the ground of the frightful immorality of the first, and the sound principles of the other. french impiety is not a more common expression, applied to their writings, than german honesty. it will, perhaps, be right at starting to state, that, in regard to decency and propriety, the two nations are on a par; if there is any preponderance, one way or other, it certainly is not in favour of the germans, whose derelictions in those respects are more solemn, and apparently sincere, than their flippant and superficial rivals. many authors there are, of course, in both countries, whose works are unexceptionable in spirit and intention; but as to the assertion, that one literature is of a higher tone of morals than the other, it is a mistake. the great majority of the entertaining works in both are unfit _pueris virginibusque_. before the revolution, voltaire was as popular in england as in the rest of europe; his powers as highly admired, and his short _historiettes_ as much quoted: their wit being considered a sufficient counterbalance of their coarseness. but with the war between the two nations, arose a hatred between the two literatures; with swift and tristram shandy in our hands, we turned up our eyes in holy indignation at candide; we saw nothing to admire in any thing french; and as our condition in politics became more isolated, and we grew like our ancestors, _toto divisos orbe britannos_-- we could see no beauty in any thing foreign. the orders in council extended to criticism; and all continental languages were placed in blockade. the first nation who honestly and zealously took our part against the enemy was the german; and from that time we began to study _achs_ and _dochs_. leipsic, that made napoleon little, made goethe great; and to waterloo we are indebted for peace and freedom, and also for a belief in the truth and talent of a host of german authors, whose principal merit consisted in the fact of their speaking the same language in which blucher called for his tobacco. the opposite feelings took rise from our enmity to the french; and though by this time we have sense enough to be on good terms with the _crapauds_, and on visiting terms with louis philippe, we have not got over our antipathy to their tongue. during the contest, we had constantly refreshed our zeal by fervent declarations of contempt for the frog-eating, spindle shanked mounseers, and persuaded ourselves that their whole literature consisted in atheism and murder, and though we now know that frogs are by no means the common food of the peasantry--costing about a guinea a dish--and that it is possible for a frenchman to be a strapping fellow of six feet high, the taint of our former persuasion remains with us still as to their books; and, in some remote districts, we have no doubt that peter pindar would be thought a more harmless volume in a young lady's hands than _pascal's thoughts_--in french. it is not unlikely that the customs' union may lower our estimate of weimar; a five years' war with austria and prussia, especially if we were assisted by the french, would make us rank schiller himself--the greatest of german names--on the same humble level where we now place victor hugo. but there are thousands, of people in this good realm of england, who actually consider such beings a spindler and vandervelde superior to the noble genius who created _notre dame de paris_. poor as our own novel-writers, by profession, have shown themselves of late years, their efforts are infinitely superior to the very best of the german novelists; and yet we see advertisements every day in the newspapers, of new translations from fourth or fifth-rate scribblers for leipsic fair, which would lead one to expect a far higher order of merit than any of our living authors can show. "a new work by the walter scott of germany!" a new work by the newton of stoke pogis! a new picture by the apelles of the isle of man! the walter scott of germany, according to somebody's saying about milton, is a very _german_ walter scott; and, if under this ridiculous pull is concealed some drivelling historical hash by spindler or tromlits, the force of impudence can no farther go. but we must take care not to be carried too far in our depreciation of german light literature by our indignation at the over-estimate formed of some of its professors. let us admit that there are admirable authors--a fact which it would be impossible to deny with such works before us as tieck's, and hoffman's, and a host of others--_quos nunc perscribere longum est_. let us leave the small fry to the congenial admiration of the devourers of our circulating libraries, and form our judgment of the respective methods of conducting a story of the french and germans, from a comparison of the heroes of each tongue. let us judge of greek and roman war from the phalanx and the legion, and not from the suttlers of the two camps. a great excellence in a german novelist is the prodigious faith he seems to have in his own story; he relates incidents as if he knew them of his own knowledge; and the wilder and more incredible they are, the more firm and solemn becomes his belief. the frenchman never descends from holding the wires of the puppets to be a puppet himself, or even to delude spectators with the idea that they are any thing but puppets; he never forfeits his superiority over the personages of the story, by allowing the reader to lose sight of the author; no, he piques himself on being the great showman, and would scarcely take it as a compliment if you entered into the interest of the tale, unless as an exhibition of the narrator's talent. but then he handles his wires so cleverly, and is really so immensely superior to the fictitious individuals whom he places before us, that it is no great wonder if we prefer alexander dumas or jules janin to their heroes. the germans, relying on their own powers of belief, have taxed their readers' credulity to a pitch which sober protestants find it very difficult to attain. old tieck or hoffman introduces you to ghouls and ghosts, and they look on them, themselves, with such awestruck eyes, and treat them in every way with such demonstrations of perfect credence in their being really ghouls and ghosts, that it is not to be denied that strange feelings creep over one in reading their stories at the witching hour, when the fire is nearly out, and the candle-wicks are an inch and a half long. the frenchman seldom introduces a ghost--never a ghoul; but he makes up for it by describing human beings with sentiments which would probably make the ghoul feel ashamed to associate with them. the utmost extent of human profligacy is depicted, but still the profligacy is human; it is only an amplification--very clever and very horrid--of a real character; but never borrows any additional horrors from the other world. a french author knows very well that the wickedness of this world is quite enough to set one's hair on end--for we suspect that the _life in paris_ would supply any amount of iniquity--and professors of the shocking, like frederick soulie or eugene sue, can afford very well to dispense with vampires and gentlemen who have sold their shadows to the devil. the german, in fact, takes a short cut to the horrible and sublime, by bringing a live demon into his story, and clothing him with human attributes; the frenchman takes the more difficult way, and succeeds in it, by introducing a real man, and endowing him with the sentiments of a fiend. the fault of the one is exaggeration; of the other, miscreation: redeemed in the first by extraordinary cleverness; in the other, by wonderful belief. what a contrast between la motte fouqué and balzac! how national and characteristic both! no one can read a chapter of the _magic ring_ without seeing that the baron believes in all the wonders of his tale; a page of the other suffices to show that there are few things on the face of the earth in which he believes at all. dim, mystic, childish, with open mouth and staring eyes, the german sees the whole phantasmagoria of the nether world pass before him: keen, biting, sarcastic--egotistic as a beauty, and cold-hearted as mephistopheles--the frenchman walks among his figures in a gilded drawing room; probes their spirits, breaks their hearts, ruins their reputation, and seems to have a profound contempt for any reader who is so carried away by his power as to waste a touch of sympathy on the unsubstantial pageants he has clothed for a brief period in flesh and blood. we confess the sober _super_-naturalism of the german has less attractions with us, than the grinning _infra_-naturalism of the frenchman. there is more sameness in it, and, besides, it is to be hoped we have at all tines less sympathy for the very best of devils than for the very worst of men. luckily for the frenchman, he has no need to go to the lower regions to procure monsters to make us shudder. his own tremendous revolution furnishes him with names before which lucifer must hide his diminished head; and from this vast repertory of all that is horrid and grotesque--more horrid on account of its grotesqueness--the _feuilletonists_, or short story-tellers, are not indisposed to draw. we back danton any day against old nick. and how infinitely better the effect of introducing a true villain in plain clothes, relying for his power only on the known and undeniable atrocity of his character, than all the pale-faced, hollow-eyed denizens of the lower pit, concealing their cloven feet in polished-leather wellington boots, and their tails in a fashionable surtout. we shall translate a short story of balzac, which will illustrate these remarks, only begging the reader to fancy to himself how different the _denouément_ would have been in the hands of a german; how demons, instead of surgeons and attorneys, would have disclosed themselves at the end of the story, how blue the candles would have burned; and what an awful smell of brimstone would have been perceptible when they disappeared. it is called the _two dreams_, and, we think, is a sketch of great power. * * * * * bodard de st james, treasurer of the navy in , was the best known, and most talked of, of all the financiers in paris. he had built his celebrated folly at neuilly, and his wife had bought an ornament of feathers for the canopy of her bed, the enormous price of which had put it beyond the power of the queen. bodard possessed the magnificent hotel in the place vendôme which the collector of taxes, dangé, had been forced to leave. madame de st james was ambitious, and would only have people of rank about her--a weakness almost universal in persons of her class. the humble members of the lower house had no charms for her. she wished to see in her saloons the nobles and dignitaries of the land who had, at least, the _grand entrées_ at versailles. to say that many _cordons bleus_ visited the fair financier would be absurd; but it is certain she had managed to gain the notice of several of the rohan family, as came out very clearly in the celebrated process of the necklace. one evening, i think it was the d of august , i was surprised to encounter in her drawing-room two individuals, whose appearance did not entitle them to the acquaintance of a person so exclusive as the treasurer's wife. she came to me in an embrasure of the window where i had taken my seat. "tell me," i said, with a look towards one of the strangers, "who in the world is that? how does such a being find his way here?" "he is a charming person, i assure you." "oh--you see him through the spectacles of love!" i said, and smiled. "you are not mistaken," she replied, smiling also. "he is horribly ugly, no doubt, but he has rendered me the greatest service a man can do to woman." i laughed, and i suppose looked maliciously, for she hastily added--"he has entirely cured me of those horrid eruptions in the face, that made my complexion like a peasant's." i shrugged my shoulders. "oh--he's a quack!" i said. "no, no," she answered, "he is a surgeon of good reputation. he is very clever, i assure you; and, moreover, he is an author. he's an excellent doctor." "and the other?" i enquired. "who? what other?" "the little fellow with the starched, stiff face--looking as sour as if he had drunk verjuice." "oh! he is a man of good family. i don't know where he comes from. he is engaged in some business of the cardinal's, and it was his eminence himself who presented him to st james. both parties have chosen st james for umpire; in that, you will say, the provincial has not shown much wisdom; but who can the people be who confide their interests to such a creature? he is quiet as a lamb, and timid as a girl; but his eminence courts him--for the matter is of importance--three hundred thousand francs, i believe." "he's an attorney, then?" "yes," she replied; and, after the humiliating confession, took her seat at the faro table. i went and threw myself in an easy chair at the fireplace; and if ever a man was astonished it was i, when i saw seated opposite me the controller-general! m. de calonne looked stupified and half-asleep. i nodded to beaumarchais, and looked as if i wished an explanation; and the author of figaro, or rather figaro himself, made clear the mystery in a manner not very complimentary to madame de st james s character, whatever it might be to her beauty. "oho! the minister is caught," i thought; "no wonder the collector lives in such style." it was half-past twelve before the card-tables were removed, and we sat down to supper. we were a party of ten--bodard and his wife, the controller-general, beaumarchais, the two strangers, two handsome women whose names i will not mention, and a collector of taxes, i think a m. lavoisier. of thirty who had been in the drawing-room when i entered, these were all who remained. the supper was stupid beyond belief. the two strangers and the collector were intolerable bores. i made signs to beaumarchais to make the surgeon tipsy, while i undertook the same kind office with the attorney, who sat on my left. as we had no other means of amusing ourselves, and the plan promised some fun, by bringing out the two interlopers and making them more ridiculous than we had found them already, m. de calonne entered into the plot. in a moment the three ladies saw our design, and joined in it with all their power. the surgeon seemed very well inclined to yield; but when i had filled my neighbour's glass for the third time, he thanked me with cold politeness, and would drink no more. the conversation, i don't know from what cause, had turned on the magic suppers of the count cagliostro. i took little interest in it, for, from the moment of my neighbour's refusal to drink, i had done nothing but study his pale and small featured countenance. his nose was flat and sharp-pointed at the same time, and occasionally an expression came to his eyes that gave him the appearance of a weasel. all at once the blood rushed to his cheeks when he heard madame st james say to m. de calonne-- "but i assure you, sir, i have actually seen queen cleopatra." "i believe it, madame," exclaimed my neighbour; "for i have spoken to catharine de medicis." "oh! oh!" laughed m. de calonne. the words uttered by the little provincial had an indefinable sonorousness. the sudden clearness of intonation, from a man who, up to this time, had scarcely spoken above his breath, startled us all. "and how was her late majesty?" said m. de calonne. "i can't positively declare that the person with whom i supped last night was catharine de medicis herself, for a miracle like that must be incredible to a christian as well as to a philosopher," replied the attorney, resting the points of his fingers on the table, and setting himself up in his chair, as if he intended to speak for some time; "but i can swear that the person, whoever she was, resembled catharine de medicis as if they had been sisters. she wore a black velvet robe, exactly like the dress of that queen given in her portrait in the royal gallery; and the rapidity of her evocation was most surprising, as m. de cagliostro had no idea of the person i should desire him to call up. i was confounded. the sight of a supper at which the illustrious women of past ages were present, took away my self-command. i listened without daring to ask a question. on getting away at midnight from the power of his enchantments, i almost doubted of my own existence. but what is the most wonderful thing about it is, that all those marvels appear to be quite natural and commonplace compared to the extraordinary hallucination i was subjected to afterwards. i don't know how to explain the state of my feelings to you in words; i will only say that, from henceforth, i an not surprised that there are spirits--strong enough or weak enough, i know not which--to believe in the mysteries of magic and the power of demons." these words were pronounced with an incredible eloquence of tone. they were calculated to arrest our attention, and all eyes were fixed on the speaker. in that man, so cold and self-possessed, there burned a hidden fire which began to act upon us all. "i know not," he continued, "whether the figure followed me in a state of invisibility; but the moment i got into bed, i saw the great shade of catharine rise before me: all of a sudden she bent her head towards me--but i don't know whether i ought to go on," said the narrator, interrupting himself; "for though i must believe it was only a dream, what i have to tell is of the utmost weight." "is it about religion?" enquired beaumarchais. "or, perhaps, something not fit for ladies' ears?" added m. de calonne. "it is about government," replied the stranger. "go on, then," said the minister: "voltaire, diderot, and company, have tutored our ears to good purpose." "whether it was that certain ideas rose involuntarily to my mind, or that i was acting under some irresistible impulse, i said to her--'ah, madame, you committed an enormous crime.' "'what crime?' she asked me in a solemn voice. "'that of which the palace clock gave the signal on the th of august.' "she smiled disdainfully. 'you call that a crime?' she said: ''twas nothing but a misfortune. the enterprise failed, and has, therefore, not produced all the good we expected from it--to france, to europe, to christianity itself. the orders were ill executed, and posterity makes no allowance for the want of communication which hindered us from giving all the unity to our effort which is requisite in affairs of state;--that was the misfortune. if on the th of august there had not remained the shadow of a huguenot in france, the latest posterity would have looked upon me with awe, as a providence among men. how often have the clear intellects of sextus the fifth, of richelieu, and bossuet, secretly accused me of having failed in the design, after having had the courage to conceive it; and therefore how my death was regretted! thirty years after the st bartholomew, the malady existed still; and cost france ten times the quantity of noble blood that remained to be spilt on the th august . the revocation of the edict of nantes, in honour of which medals were struck, cost more blood, more tears, and more treasure, and has been more injurious to france, than twenty st bartholomews. if on the th august , that enormous execution was necessary, on the th august it was useless. under the second son of henry de valois heresy was almost barren; under the second son of henry de bourbon she had become a fruitful mother, and scattered her progeny over the globe. you accuse _me_ of a crime, and yet you raise statues to the son of anne of austria!' "at these words--slowly uttered--i felt a shudder creep over me. i seemed to inhale the smell of blood." "he dreamt that to a certainty," whispered beaumarchais; "he _could_ not have invented it." "'my reason is confounded,' i said to the queen. 'you plume yourself on an action which three generations have condemned and cursed, and'-- "'and,' she interrupted, 'that history has been more unjust to me than my contemporaries were. nobody has taken up my defence. i am accused of ambition--i, rich and a queen--i am accused of cruelty; and the most impartial judges consider me a riddle. do you think that i was actuated by feelings of hatred; that i breathed nothing but vengeance and fury?' she smiled. 'i was calm and cold as reason herself. i condemned the huguenots without pity, it is true, but without anger. if i had been queen of england, i would have done the same to the catholics if they had been seditious. our country required at that time one god, one faith, one master. luckily for me, i have described my policy in a word. when birague announced to me the defeat at dreux--well, i said, we must go to the conventicle.--hate the huguenots, indeed! i honoured them greatly, and i did not know them. how could i hate those who had never been my friends?' "'but, madame, instead of that horrible butchery, why did you not try to give the calvinists the wise indulgences which made the reign of the fourth henry so peaceable and so glorious?' "she smiled again, and the wrinkles in her face and brow gave an expression of the bitterest irony to her pale features. "'henry committed two faults,' she said. he ought neither to have abjured, nor to have left france catholic after having become so himself. he alone was in a position to change the destinies of france. there should have been either no crosier or no conventicle. he should never have left in the government two hostile principles, with nothing to balance them. it is impossible that sully can have looked without envy on the immense possessions of the church. but,' she paused, and seemed to consider for a moment--'is it the niece of a pope you are surprised to see a catholic? after all,' she said, 'i could have been a calvinist with all my heart. does any one believe that religion had any thing to do with that movement, that revolution, the greatest the world has ever seen, which has been retarded by trifling causes, but which nothing can hinder from coming to pass, since i failed to crush it? a revolution,' she added, fixing her eye on me, 'which is even now in motion, and which you--yes, you--you who now listen to me--can finish.' "i shuddered. "'what! has no one perceived that the old interests and the new have taken rome and luther for their watchwords? what! louis the ninth, in order to avoid a struggle of the same kind, carried away with him five times the number of victims i condemned, and left their bones on the shores of africa, and is considered a saint; while i--but the reason is soon given--i failed!' "she bent her head, and was silent a moment. she was no longer a queen, but one of those awful druidesses who rejoiced in human sacrifices, and unrolled the pages of the future by studying the records of the past. at length she raised her noble and majestic head again. 'you are all inclined,' she said, 'to bestow more sympathy on a few worthless victims than on the tears and sufferings of a whole generation! and you forget that religious liberty, political freedom, a nation's tranquillity, science itself, are benefits which destiny never vouchsafes to man without being paid for them in blood!' "'cannot nations, some day or other, obtain happiness on easier terms?' i asked, with tears in my eyes. "'truths never leave their well unless to be bathed in blood. christianity itself--the essence of all truth, since it came from god--was not established without its martyrs. blood flowed in torrents.' "blood! blood! the word sounded in my ear like a bell. "'you think, then,' i said, 'that protestantism would have a right to reason as you do.' "but catharine had disappeared, and i awoke, trembling and in tears, till reason resumed her sway, and told me that the doctrines of that proud italian were detestable, and that neither king nor people had a right to act on the principles she had enounced, which i felt were only worthy of a nation of atheists." when the unknown ceased to speak, the ladies made no remark. m. bodard was asleep. the surgeon, who was half tipsy, lavoisier beaumarchais, and i, were the only ones who had listened. m. de calonne was flirting with his neighbour. at that moment there was something solemn in the silence. the candles themselves seemed to me to burn with a magic dimness. a hidden power had riveted our attention, by some mysterious links, to the extraordinary narrator, who made me feel what might be the inexplicable influence of fanaticism. it was only the deep hollow voice of beaumarchais' neighbour that awakened us from our surprise. "i also had a dream," he said. i looked more attentively at the surgeon, and instinctively shuddered with horror. his earthy colour--his features, at once vulgar and imposing, presented the true expression of _the canaille_. he had dark pimples spread over his face like patches of dirt, and his eyes beamed with a repulsive light. his countenance was more horrid, perhaps, than it might otherwise have been, from his head being snow-white with powder. "that fellow must have buried a host of patients," i said to my neighbour the attorney. "i would not trust him with my dog," was the answer. "i hate him--i can't help it," i said. "i despise him." "no--you're wrong there," i replied. "and did you also dream of a queen?" enquired beaumarchais. "no! i dreamt of a people," he answered with an emphasis that made us laugh. "i had to cut off a patient's leg on the following day, and"-- "and you found the people in his leg?" asked m. de calonne. "exactly," replied the surgeon. "he's quite amusing," tittered the countess de g----. "i was rather astonished, i assure you," continued the man, without minding the sneers and interruptions he met with, "to find any thing to speak to in that leg. i had the extraordinary faculty of entering into my patient. when i found myself, for the first time, in his skin, i saw an immense quantity of little beings, which moved about, and thought, and reasoned. some lived in the man's body, and some in his mind. his ideas were living things, which were born, grew up, and died. they were ill and well, lively, sorrowful; and in short had each their own characteristics. they quarrelled, or were friendly with each other. some of these ideas forced their way out, and went to inhabit the intellectual world; for i saw at a glance that there were two worlds--the visible and the invisible, and that earth, like man, had a body and soul. nature laid itself bare to me; and i perceived its immensity, by seeing the ocean of beings who were spread every where, making the whole one mass of animated matter, from the marbles up to god. it was a noble sight! in short, there was a universe in my patient. when i inserted the knife in his gangrened leg i annihilated millions of those beings. you laugh, ladies, to think you are possessed by animals." "don't be personal," sneered m. de calonne--"speak for yourself and your patient." "he, poor man, was so frightened by the cries of those animals, and suffered such torture, that he tried to interrupt the operation. but i persevered, and i told him that those noxious animals were actually gnawing his bones. he made a movement, and the knife hurt my own side." "he is an ass," said lavoisier. "no--he is only drunk," replied beaumarchais. "but, gentlemen, my dream has a meaning in it," cried the surgeon. "oh! oh!" exclaimed bodard, who awoke at the moment--"my leg's asleep." "your animals are dead, my dear," said his wife. "that man has a destiny to fulfill," cried my neighbour the attorney, who had kept his eyes fixed on the narrator the whole time. "it is to yours, sir," replied the frightful guest, who had overheard the remark, "what action is to thought--what the body is to the soul." but at this point his tongue became very confused from the quantity he had drunk, and his further words were unintelligible. luckily for us, the conversation soon took another turn, and in half an hour we forgot all about the surgeon, who was sound asleep in his chair. the rain fell in torrents when we rose from table. "the attorney is no fool," said i to beaumarchais. "he is heavy and cold," he replied; "but you see there are still steady, good sort of people in the provinces, who are quite in earnest about political theories, and the history of france. it is a leaven that will work yet." "is your carriage here?" asked madame de st james. "no"--i replied coldly. "you wished me, perhaps, to take m. de calonne home?" she left me, slightly offended at the insinuation, and turned to the attorney. "m. de robespierre," she said, "will you have the kindness to set m. marat down at his hotel? he is not able to take care of himself." * * * * * the game up with repeal agitation. "the game is up." such were the words uttered with a somewhat different intonation, which last month, in speaking of mr o'connell's crusade against the peace of ireland, we used tentatively, almost doubtfully, but still in the spirit of hope, in reference to the crisis then apparently impending, that the agitation might prolong itself by transmigrating into some other shape, for that case we allowed. but in any result, foremost amongst the auguries of hope was this--that the evil example of mr o' connell's sedition would soon redress itself by a catastrophe not less exemplary. and no consummation could satisfy us as a proper euthanasy of this memorable conspiracy, which should not fasten itself as a _moral_ to the long malice of the agitation growing out of it, as a natural warning, and saying audibly to all future agitators--try not this scheme again, or look for a similar humiliation. those auguries are, in one sense, accomplished; that consummation substantially is realized. sedition has, at last, countermined itself, and conspiracy we have seen in effect perishing by its own excesses. yet still, ingenuously speaking, we cannot claim the merit of a felicitous foresight. that result _has_ come round which we foreboded; but not in that sense which we intended to authorize, nor exactly by those steps which we wished to see. we looked for the extinction of this national scourge by its own inevitable decays: through its own organization we had hoped that the repeal association should be confounded: we trusted that an enthusiasm, founded in ignorance, and which, in no one stage, could be said to have prospered, must finally droop _spontaneously_, and that once _having_ drooped, through mere defect of actions that bore any meaning, or tendencies that offered any promise, by no felicities of intrigue could it ever be revived. whether we erred in the philosophy of our anticipations, cannot now be known; for, whether wrong or right in theory, in practice our expectation has been abruptly cut short. _a deus ex machinâ_ has descended amongst us abruptly, and intercepted the natural evolution of the plot: the executive government has summarily effected the _peripetteia_ by means of a _coup d'état_; and the end, such as we augured, has been brought about by means essentially different. yet, if thus far we were found in error, would _not that_ argue a corresponding error in the government? if we, relying on the self-consistency of the executive, and _because_ we relied on that self-consistency, predicted a particular solution for the _nodus_ of repeal, which solution has now become impossible; presuming a perseverance in the original policy of ministers, now that its natural fruits were rapidly ripening--whereas, after all, at the eleventh hour we find them adopting that course which, with stronger temptation, they had refused to adopt in the first hour--were this the true portrait of the case, would it be ourselves that erred, or government?--ourselves in counting on steadiness, or government in acting with caprice? meantime, _is_ this the portrait of the case? _that_ we shall know when parliament meets; and possibly not before. at present the attempts to explain, to reconcile, and, as it were, to construe the government system of policy, is first almost neglecting the irish sedition, and then (after half-a-year's sedentary and distant skirmishing, by means of chancery letters) suddenly, on the th day of october, leaping into the arena armed cap-a-pie, dividing themselves like a bomb-shell amongst the conspirators, rending--shattering--pursuing to the right and to the left;--all attempts, we say, to harmonize that past quiescence (almost _ac_quiescence) with this present demoniac energy, have seemed to the public either false or feeble, or in some way insufficient. five such attempts we have noticed; and of the very best we may say that perhaps it tells the truth, but not the whole truth. _first_ came the solution of a great morning journal--to the effect that government had, knowingly and wilfully, altered their policy, treading back their own steps upon finding the inefficiency of gentler measures. on this view no harmonizing principle was called for the discord existed confessedly, and the one course had been the _palinode_ of the other. but such a theory is quite inadmissible to our minds; it tallies neither with the long-headed and comprehensive sagacity of sir robert peel, nor with the spirit of simplicity, directness, and determination in the duke of wellington. _next_ came an evening paper, of high character for conservative honesty and ability, which (having all along justified the past policy of vigilant neutrality) could not be supposed to acknowledge any fickleness in ministers: the time for moderation and indulgence, according to this journal, had now passed away: the season had arrived for law to display its terrors. not in the government, but in the conspirators had occurred the change: and so far--to the extent, namely, of taxing these conspirators with gradual increase of virulence--it may ultimately turn out that this journal is right. the fault for the present is--that the nature of the change, its signs and circumstances, were not specified or described. how, and by what memorable feature, did last june differ from this october? and what followed, by its false show of subtlety, discredited the whole explanation. it seems that notice was required of this change: in mere equity, proclamation must be made of the royal pleasure as to the irish sedition: _that_ was done in the queen's speech on adjourning the two houses. but time also must be granted for this proclamation to diffuse itself, and _therefore_ it happened that the clontarf meeting was selected for the _coup d'essai_ of government; in its new character for "handselling" the new system of rigour, this clontarf assembly having fallen out just about six weeks from the royal speech. but this attempt to establish a metaphysical relation between the time for issuing a threat, and the time for acting upon it, as though forty and two days made that act to be reasonable which would _not_ have been so in twenty and one, being suited chiefly to the universities in laputa, did not meet the approbation of our captious and beef-eating island: and this second solution also, we are obliged to say; was exploded as soon us it was heard. _thirdly_, stepped forward one who promised to untie the knot upon a more familiar principle: the thunder was kept back for so many months in order to allow time for mr o'connell to show out in his true colours, on the hint of an old proverb, which observes--that a baboon, or other mischievous animal, when running up a scaffolding or a ship's tackling, exposes his most odious features the more as he is allowed to mount the higher. in that idea, there is certainly some truth. "give him rope enough, and every knave will hang himself"--is an old adage, a useful adage, and often a consolatory one. the objection, in the case before us, is--that our irish hero _had_ shown himself already, and most redundantly, on occasions notorious to every body, both previously to , (the year of clare,) and subsequently. if, however, it should appear upon the trial of the several conspirators for seditious language, that they, or that any of them, had, by good _affidavits_, used indictable language in september, not having used it sooner, or having guarded it previously by more equivocal expressions, then it must be admitted that the spirit of this third explanation _does_ apply itself to the case, though not in an extent to cover the entire range of the difficulty. but a _fourth_ explanation would evade the necessity of showing any such difference in the actionable language held: according to this hypothesis, it was not for subjects to prosecute that the government waited, but for strength enough to prosecute with effect, under circumstances which warned them to expect popular tumults. in this statement, also, there is probably much truth, indeed, it has now become evident that there is. often we have heard it noticed by military critics as the one great calamity of ireland, that in earlier days she had never been adequately conquered--not sufficiently for extirpating barbarism, or sufficiently for crushing the local temptations to resistance. rebellion and barbarism are the two evils (and, since the reformation, in alliance with a third evil--religious hostility to the empire) which have continually sustained themselves in ireland, propagated their several curses from age to age, and at this moment equally point to a burden of misery in the forward direction for the irish, and backwards to a burden of reproach for the english. more men applied to ireland, more money and more determined legislation spent upon ireland in times long past, would have saved england tenfold expenditure of all these elements in the three centuries immediately behind us, and possibly in that which is immediately a-head. such men as bishop bedell, as bishop jeremy taylor, or even as bishop berkeley, meeting in one generation and in one paternal council, would have made ireland long ago, by colonization and by protestantism, that civilized nation which, with all her advances in mechanic arts[ ] of education as yet she is not; would have made her that tractable nation, which, after all her lustrations by fire and blood, for her own misfortune she never has been; would have made her that strong arm of the empire, which hitherto, with all her teeming population, for the common misfortune of europe she neither has been nor promises to be. by and through this neglect it is, that on the inner hearths of the roman catholic irish, on the very altars of their _lares_ and _penates_, burns for ever a sullen spark of disaffection to that imperial household, with which, nevertheless and for ever, their own lot is bound up for evil and for good; a spark always liable to be fanned by traitors--a spark for ever kindling into rebellion; and in this has lain perpetually a delusive encouragement to the hostility of spain and france, whilst to her own children, it is the one great snare which besets their feet. this great evil of imperfect possession--if now it is almost past healing in its general operation as an engine of civilization, and as applied to the social training of the people--is nevertheless open to relief as respects any purpose of the government, towards which there may be reason to anticipate a martial resistance. that part of the general policy fell naturally under the care of our present great commander-in-chief. of him it was that we spoke last month as watching mr o'connell's slightest movements, searching him and nailing him with his eye. we told the reader at the same time, that government, as with good reason we believed, had not been idle during the summer; their work had proceeded in silence; but, upon any explosion or apprehension of popular tumult, it would be found that more had been done by a great deal, in the way of preparations, than the public was aware of. barracks have every where been made technically defensible; in certain places they have been provisioned against sieges; forts have been strengthened; in critical situations redoubts, or other resorts of hurried retreat, or of known rendezvous in cases of surprise, have been provided; and in the most merciful spirit every advantage on the other side has been removed or diminished which could have held out encouragement to mutiny, or temptation to rebellion. finally, on the destined moment arriving, on the _casus foederis_ (whatever _that_ were) emerging, in which the executive had predetermined to act, not the perfection of clockwork, not the very masterpieces of scenical art, can ever have exhibited a combined movement upon one central point--so swift, punctual, beautiful, harmonious, more soundless than an exhalation, more overwhelming than a deluge--as the display of military force in dublin on sunday the th of october. without alarm, without warning--as if at the throwing up of a rocket in the dead of night, or at the summons of a signal gun--the great capital, almost as populous as naples or vienna, and far more dangerous in its excitement, found itself under military possession by a little army--so perfect in its appointments as to make resistance hopeless, and by that very hopelessness (as reconciling the most insubordinate to a necessity) making irritation impossible. last month we warned mr o'connell of "the uplifted thunderbolt" suspended in the jovian hands of the wellesley, but ready to descend when the "dignus vindice nodus" should announce itself. and this, by the way, must have been the "thunderbolt," this military demonstration, which, in our blind spirit of prophecy doubtless, we saw dimly in the month of september last; so that we are disposed to recant our confession even of partial error as to the coming fortunes of repeal, and to request that the reader will think of us as of very decent prophets. but, whether we were so or not, the government (it is clear) acted in the prophetic spirit of military wisdom. "the prophetic eye of taste"--as a brilliant expression for that felicitous _prolepsis_ by which the painter or the sculptor sees already in its rudiments what will be the final result of his labours--is a phrase which we are all acquainted with, and the spirit of prophecy, the far-stretching vision of sagacity, is analogously conspicuous in the arts of government, military or political, when providing for the contingencies that may commence in pseudo-patriotism, or the possibilities that may terminate in rebellion. whether government saw those contingencies, whether government calculated those possibilities in june last--that is one part of the general question which we have been discussing; and whether it was to a different estimate of such chances in summer and in autumn, or to a necessity for time in preparing against them, that we must ascribe the very different methods of the government in dealing with the sedition at different periods--_that_ is the other part of the question. but this is certain--that whether seeing and measuring from the first, or suddenly awakened to the danger of late--in any case, the government has silently prepared all along; forestalling evils that possibly never were to arise, and shaping remedies for disasters which possibly to themselves appeared romantic. to provide for the worst, is an ordinary phrase, but what _is_ the worst? commonly it means the last calamity that experience suggests; but in the admirable arrangements of government it meant the very worst that imagination could conceive--building upon treason at home in alliance with hostility from abroad. at a time when resistance seemed supremely improbable, yet, because amongst the headlong desperations of a confounded faction even this was possible, the ministers determined to deal with it as a certainty. against the possible they provided as against the probable; against the least of probabilities as against the greatest. the very outside and remote extremities of what might be looked for in a civil war, seem to have been assumed as a basis in the calculations. and under that spirit of vista-searching prudence it was, that the duke of wellington saw what we have insisted on, and practically redressed it--viz. the defective military net-work by which england has ever spread her power over ireland. "this must not be," the duke said; "never again shall the blood of brave men be shed in superfluous struggles, nor the ground be strewed with supernumerary corpses--as happened in the rebellion of --because forts were wanting and loopholed barracks to secure what had been won; because retreats were wanting to overawe what, for the moment, had been lost. henceforth, and before there is a blushing in the dawn of that new rebellion which mr o'connell disowns, but to which his frenzy may rouse others having less to lose than himself, we will have true technical possession, in the military sense, of ireland." such has been the recent policy of the duke of wellington: and for this, in so far as it is a violence done to ireland, or a badge of her subjection, she has to thank mr o'connell: for this, in so far as it is a merciful arrangement, diminishing bloodshed by discouraging resistance, she has to thank the british government. mr o'connell it is, that, by making rebellion probable, has forced on this reaction of perfect preparation which, in such a case, became the duty of the government. the duke of wellington it is, that, by using the occasion advantageously for the perfecting of the military organization in ireland, has made police do the work of war; and by making resistance maniacal, in making it hopeless, has eventually consulted even for the feelings of the rebellious, sparing to them the penalties of insurrection in defeating its earliest symptoms; and for the land itself, has been the chief of benefactors, by removing systematically that inheritance of desolation attached to all civil wars, in cutting away from below the feet of conspirators the very ground on which they could take their earliest stand. finally, it is mr o'connell who has raised an anarchy in many irish minds, in the minds of all whom he influences, by placing their national feelings in collision with their duty it is the duke of wellington who has reconciled the bravest and most erroneous of irish patriots to his place in a federal system, by taking away all dishonour from submission under circumstances where resistance has at length become notoriously as frantic as would be a war with gravitation. [ ] "_mechanic arts of education_:"--merely in reading and writing, the reader must not forget, that according to absolute documents laid before parliament, ireland, in some counties, takes rank before prussia; whilst probably, in both countries, that real education of life and practice, which moves by the commerce of thought and the contagion of feelings, is at the lowest ebb. as to the _fourth_ hypothesis, therefore, for explaining the apparent inconsistencies of the executive, we not only assent to it heartily as involving part of the truth, but we have endeavoured to show earnestly that the truth is a great truth; no casual aspect, or momentary feature of truth, depending upon the particular relation at the time between ireland and the horse guards, or pointing simply to a better cautionary distribution of the army; but a truth connected systematically with the policy for ireland in past times and in times to come. where men like mr o' connell _can_ arise, it is clear that the social condition of ireland is not healthy; that, as a country, she is not fused into a common substance with the rest of the empire; that she is not fully to be trusted; and that the road to a more effectual union lies, not through stricter coercion, but through a system of instant defence making itself apparent to the people as a means of provisional or potential coercion in the proper case arising. one traitor cannot exist as a public and demonstrative character without many minor traitors to back him. to great britain it ought to cost no visible effort, resolutely and instantly to trample out every overture of insubordination as quietly, peacefully, effectually, as the meeting of conspirators at clontarf on the th day of october . ireland is notoriously, by position and by imaginary grievances--grievances which, had they ever been real for past generations, would long since have faded away, were it not through the labours of mercenary traders in treason-- ireland is of necessity, and at any rate, the vulnerable part of our empire. wars will soon gather again in christendom. whilst it is yet daylight and fair weather in which we can work, this open wound of the empire must be healed. we cannot afford to stand another era of collusion from abroad with intestine war. now is the time for grasping this nettle of domestic danger, and, by crushing it without fear, to crush it for ever. therefore it is that we rejoice to hear of attention in the right quarter at length drawn to the _radix_ of all this evil; of efforts seriously made to grapple with the mischief; not by mere accumulation of troops, for _that_ is a spasmodic effort--sure to relax on the return of tranquillity; but by those appliances of military art to the system of attack and defence as connected with the soil and buildings of ireland, which will hereafter make it possible for even a diminished army to become all potent over disaffection, by means of permanent preparations, and through systematic links of concert. _fifthly_ comes mr stuart wortley, the parliamentary representative for bute, who tells his constituents at bute, that the true secret of the apparent incoherency in the conduct of government, of that subsultory movement from almost passive _surveillance_ to the most intense development of power, is to be found in some error, some lapse as yet unknown, on the part of the conspirators. hitherto mr wortley, as lawyer, had persuaded himself that the craft of sedition had prevailed over its zeal. whatever might be the _animus_ of the parties, hitherto their legal adroitness had kept them on the right side of the fence which parts the merely virulent or wicked language from the indictable. but security, and apparently the indifference of the government, had tempted them beyond their safeguards. government, it is certain, have latterly watched the proceedings of the repeal association in a more official way; they have sent qualified and vigilant reporters to the scene; and have showed signs of meaning speedily "to do business" upon a large scale. we do not, indeed, altogether agree with mr wortley, that the earlier language, if searched with equal care, would be found less offending than the later; but this later we believe it to be which, as an audacious reiteration of sentiments that would have been overlooked had they seemed casual or not meant for continued inculcation, will be found in fact to have provoked the executive energies. we believe also, in accord with mr wortley, that something or other has transpired by secret information to government in relation to this last intended meeting at clontarf, which authorized a separate and more sinister construction of _that_, or of its consequences, than had necessarily attended the former assemblies, however similar in bad meaning and in malice. this secret information, whether it pointed to words uttered, to acts done, or to intentions signified, must have been sudden, and must have been decisive; an impression which we draw from the hurried summoning of cabinet councils in england on or about the th of october, from the departures for ireland, apparently consequent upon these councils--of the lord lieutenant, of the chancellor, and other great officers, all instant and all simultaneous--and finally, from the continued consultations in dublin from the time when these functionaries arrived; viz. immediately after their landing on friday morning, october th, until the promulgation and enforcement of that memorable proclamation which crushed the repeal sedition. a paris journal of eminence says, that we are not to exult as if much progress were made towards the crushing of repeal, simply by the act of crushing a single meeting; and, strange to say, the chief morning paper of london echoes this erroneous judgment as if self-evident, saying, that "it needs no ghost to tell us _that_." we, however, utterly deny this comment, and protest against it as an absurdity. were _that_ true, were it possible that the clontarf meeting had been suppressed on its own separate merits, as presumed from secret information, and without ulterior meaning or application designed for the act--in that case nothing has been done. but this is not so: government is bound henceforwards by its own act. that proclamation as to one meeting establishes a precedent as to all. it is not within the _power_ of government, having done that act of suppression, and still more having spoken that language of proclamation, now to retreat from their own rule, and to apply any other rule to any subsequent meeting. the act of suppression was enough. the commentary on the proclamation is more than enough. therefore it is, that we began by saying "the game is up;" and, because it is of consequence to know the principle on which any act is done, therefore it is that we have discussed, at some length, the various hypotheses now current as to the particular principle which, in this instance, governed our executive. our own opinion is, that all these hypotheses, except the first, which ascribes blank inconsistency to the government, and so much of the second as stands upon some fanciful limitation of time within which government could not equitably proceed to action, are partially true. if this be so, there is an answer in full to the whigs, who at this moment (october ) are arguing that no circumstances of any kind have changed since our ministers treated the repeal cause with neglect. neglect it, comparatively, they never did: as the cashiering of magistrates ought too angrily to remind the whigs. but if the different solutions, which we have here examined, should be carefully reviewed, it will be seen that circumstances _have_ changed, and, under the fourth head, it will be seen that they have changed in a way which required time, selection, and great efforts: what is more, it will be seen that they have changed in a way critically important for the future interests of the empire. yes; the game is up! and what now remains is, not to suffer the coming trials to sink into fictions of law--as a _brutum fulmen_ of menace, never meant to be realized. verdicts must be had: judgments must be given: and then a long farewell to the hopes of treason! yes, by a double proof the repeal sedition is at an end: were it not, upon clontarf being prohibited, the repealers would have announced some other gathering in some other place. you that say it is _not_ at an end, tell us why did they forbear doing _that_? secondly, mr o'connell has substituted for repeal--what? the miserable, the beggarly petition, for a dependent house of assembly, an upper sort of "select vestry," for ireland; and _that_ too as a _bonus_ from the parliament of the empire. this reminds us of a capital story related by mr webster, and perhaps within the experience of american statesmen, in reference to the claims of electors upon those candidates whom they have returned to congress. such a candidate, having succeeded so far as even to become a secretary for foreign affairs, was one day waited on by a man, who reminded him that some part of this eminent success had been due to _his_ vote; and really-- mr secretary might think as he pleased--but _him_ it struck, that a "pretty considerable of a debt" was owing in gratitude to his particular exertions. mr secretary bowed. the stranger proceeded--"his ambition was moderate: might he look for the office of postmaster-general?" unfortunately, said the secretary, that office required special experience, and it was at present filled to the satisfaction of the president. "indeed! _that_ was unhappy: but he was not particular; perhaps the ambassador to london had not yet been appointed?" there, said the secretary, you are still more unfortunate: the appointment was open until p.m. on this very day, and at that hour it was filled up. "well," said the excellent and christian supplicant, "any thing whatever for me; beggars must not be choosers: possibly the office of vice-president might soon be vacant; it was said that the present man lay shockingly ill." not at all; he was rapidly recovering; and the reversion, even if he should die, required enormous interest, for which a canvass had long since commenced on the part of fifty-three candidates. thus proceeded the assault upon the secretary, and thus was it evaded. so moved the chase, and thus retreated the game, until at length nothing under heaven remained amongst all official prizes which the voter could ask, or which the secretary could refuse. pensively the visitor reflected for a few minutes, and, suddenly raising his eye doubtfully, he said, "why then, mr secretary, have you ever an old black coat that you could give me?" oh, aspiring genius of ambition! from that topmast round of thy aerial ladder that a man should descend thus awfully!--from the office of vice-president for the u.s. that he should drop, within three minutes, to "an old black coat!" the secretary was aghast: he rang the bell for such a coat; the coat appeared; the martyr of ambition was solemnly inducted into its sleeves; and the two parties, equally happy at the sudden issue of the interview bowing profoundly to each other, separated for ever. even upon this model, sinking from a regal honour to an old black coat, mr o' connell has actually agreed to accept--has volunteered to accept--for the name and rank of a separate nation, some trivial right of holding county meetings for local purposes of bridges, roads, turnpike gates. this privilege he calls by the name of "federalism;" a misnomer, it is true; but, were it the right name, names cannot change realities. these local committees could not possibly take rank above the quarter sessions; nor could they find much business to do which is not already done, and better done, by that respectable judicial body. true it is, that this descent is a thousand times more for the benefit of ireland than his former ambitious plan. but we speak of it with reference to the sinking scale of his ambition. now this it is--viz. the aspiring character of his former promises, the assurance that he would raise ireland into a nation distinct and independent in the system of europe, having her own fleets, armies, peerage, parliament--which operated upon the enthusiasm of a peasantry the vainest in christendom after that of france, and perhaps absolutely the most ignorant. is it in human nature, we demand, that hereafter the same enthusiasm should continue available for mr o'connell's service, after the transient reaction of spitefulness to the government shall have subsided, which gave buoyancy to his ancient treason? the chair of a proconsul, the saddle of a pasha--these are golden baits; yet these are below the throne and diadem of a sovereign prince. but from these to have descended into asking for "an old black coat," on the american precedent! faugh! what remains for ireland but infinite disgust, for us but infinite laughter? no, no. by mr o'connell's own act and capitulation, the game is up. government has countersigned this result by the implicit pledge in their proclamation, that, having put down clontarf, for specific reasons there assigned, they will put down all future meetings to which the same reasons apply. at present it remains only to express our fervent hope, that ministers will drive "home" the nail which they have so happily planted. the worst spectacle of our times was on that day when mr o'connell, solemnly reprimanded by the speaker of the house of commons, was suffered--was tolerated--in rising to reply; in retorting with insolence; in lecturing and reprimanding the senate through their representative officer; in repelling just scorn by false scorn; in riveting his past offences; in adding contumely to wrong. never more must this be repeated. neither must the whig policy be repeated of bringing mr o'connell before a tribunal of justice that had, by a secret intrigue, agreed to lay aside its terrors.[ ] no compromise now: no juggling: no collusion! we desire to see the majesty of the law vindicated, as solemnly as it has been notoriously insulted. such is the demand, such the united cry, of this great nation, so long and so infamously bearded. then, and thus only, justice will be satisfied, reparation will be made: because it will go abroad into all lands, not only that the evil has been redressed, but that the author of the evil has been forced into a plenary atonement. [ ] the allusion is to mr o'connell's _past_ experience as a defendant, on political offences, here the court of queen's bench in dublin; an experience which most people have forgotten; and which we also at this moment should be glad to forget as the ominous precedent for the present crisis, were it not that conservative honesty and conservative energy were now at the helm, instead of the whig spirit of intrigue with all public enemies. * * * * * _edinburgh: printed by ballantyne and hughes, paul's work._ * * * * * transcribed from the chapman & hall edition by david price, email ccx @pglaf.org george borrow the man and his books by edward thomas author of "the life of richard jefferies," "light and twilight," "rest and unrest," "maurice maeterlinck," etc. with portraits and illustrations london chapman & hall, ltd. printed by jas. truscott and son, ltd., london, e.c. {picture: george borrow, (from the painting by h. w. phillips, r.a., in the possession of mr. john murray, by whose kind permission the picture is reproduced.): page .jpg} note the late dr. w. i. knapp's life (john murray) and mr. watts-dunton's prefaces are the fountains of information about borrow, and i have clearly indicated how much i owe to them. what i owe to my friend, mr. thomas seccombe, cannot be so clearly indicated, but his prefaces have been meat and drink to me. i have also used mr. r. a. j. walling's sympathetic and interesting "george borrow." the british and foreign bible society has given me permission to quote from borrow's letters to the society, edited in by the rev. t. h. darlow; and messrs. t. c. cantrill and j. pringle have put at my disposal their publication of borrow's journal of his second welsh tour, wonderfully annotated by themselves ("y cymmrodor," ). these and other sources are mentioned where they are used and in the bibliography. dedication to e. s. p. haynes my dear haynes, by dedicating this book to you, i believe it is my privilege to introduce you and borrow. this were sufficient reason for the dedication. the many better reasons are beyond my eloquence, much though i have remembered them this winter, listening to the storms of caermarthen bay, the screams of pigs, and the street tunes of "fall in and follow me," "yip-i-addy," and "the first good joy that mary had." yours, edward thomas. laugharne, caermarthenshire, _december_, . chapter i--borrow's autobiography the subject of this book was a man who was continually writing about himself, whether openly or in disguise. he was by nature inclined to thinking about himself and when he came to write he naturally wrote about himself; and his inclination was fortified by the obvious impression made upon other men by himself and by his writings. he has been dead thirty years; much has been written about him by those who knew him or knew those that did: yet the impression still made by him, and it is one of the most powerful, is due mainly to his own books. nor has anything lately come to light to provide another writer on borrow with an excuse. the impertinence of the task can be tempered only by its apparent hopelessness and by that necessity which voltaire did not see. i shall attempt only a re-arrangement of the myriad details accessible to all in the writings of borrow and about borrow. such re-arrangement will sometimes heighten the old effects and sometimes modify them. the total impression will, i hope, not be a smaller one, though it must inevitably be softer, less clear, less isolated, less gigantic. i do not wish, and i shall not try, to deface borrow's portrait of himself; i can only hope that i shall not do it by accident. there may be a sense in which that portrait can be called inaccurate. it may even be true that "lies--damned lies" { } helped to make it. but nobody else knows anything like as much about the truth, and a peddling biographer's mouldy fragment of plain fact may be far more dangerous than the manly lying of one who was in possession of all the facts. in most cases the fact--to use an equivocal term--is dead and blown away in dust while borrow's impression is as green as grass. his "lies" are lies only in the same sense as all clothing is a lie. for example, he knew a gypsy named ambrose smith, and had sworn brotherhood with him as a boy. he wrote about this gypsy, man and boy, and at first called him, as the manuscripts bear witness, by his real name, though borrow thought of him in as petulengro. in print he was given the name jasper petulengro--petulengro being gypsy for shoesmith--and as jasper petulengro he is now one of the most unforgetable of heroes; the name is the man, and for many englishmen his form and character have probably created quite a new value for the name of jasper. well, jasper petulengro lives. ambrose smith died in , at the age of seventy-four, after being visited by the late queen victoria at knockenhair park: he was buried in dunbar cemetery. { } in the matter of his own name borrow made another creative change of a significant kind. he was christened george henry borrow on july th (having been born on the th), , at east dereham, in norfolk. as a boy he signed his name, george henry borrow. as a young man of the byronic age and a translator of scandinavian literature, he called himself in print, george olaus borrow. his biographer, dr. william ireland knapp, says that borrow's first name "expressed the father's admiration for the reigning monarch," george iii.; but there is no reason to believe this, and certainly borrow himself made of the combination which he finally adopted--george borrow--something that retains not the slightest flavour of any other george. such changes are common enough. john richard jefferies becomes richard jefferies; robert lewis balfour stevenson becomes robert louis stevenson. but borrow could touch nothing without transmuting it. for example, in his byronic period, when he was about twenty years of age, he was translating "romantic ballads" from the danish. in the last verse of one of these, called "elvir hill," he takes the liberty of using the byronic "lay": 'tis therefore i counsel each young danish swain who may ride in the forest so dreary, ne'er to lay down upon lone elvir hill though he chance to be ever so weary. twenty years later he used this ballad romantically in writing about his early childhood. he was travelling with his father's regiment from town to town and from school to school, and they came to berwick-upon-tweed: { } "and it came to pass that, one morning, i found myself extended on the bank of a river. it was a beautiful morning of early spring; small white clouds were floating in the heaven, occasionally veiling the countenance of the sun, whose light, as they retired, would again burst forth, coursing like a racehorse over the scene--and a goodly scene it was! before me, across the water, on an eminence, stood a white old city, surrounded with lofty walls, above which rose the tops of tall houses, with here and there a church or steeple. to my right hand was a long and massive bridge, with many arches and of antique architecture, which traversed the river. the river was a noble one; the broadest that i had hitherto seen. its waters, of a greenish tinge, poured with impetuosity beneath the narrow arches to meet the sea, close at hand, as the boom of the billows breaking distinctly upon a beach declared. there were songs upon the river from the fisher-barks; and occasionally a chorus, plaintive and wild, such as i had never heard before, the words of which i did not understand, but which at the present time, down the long avenue of years, seem in memory's ear to sound like 'horam, coram, dago.' several robust fellows were near me, some knee-deep in water, employed in hauling the seine upon the strand. huge fish were struggling amidst the meshes--princely salmon--their brilliant mail of blue and silver flashing in the morning beam; so goodly and gay a scene, in truth, had never greeted my boyish eye. "and, as i gazed upon the prospect, my bosom began to heave, and my tears to trickle. was it the beauty of the scene which gave rise to these emotions? possibly; for though a poor ignorant child--a half-wild creature--i was not insensible to the loveliness of nature, and took pleasure in the happiness and handiworks of my fellow-creatures. yet, perhaps, in something more deep and mysterious the feeling which then pervaded me might originate. who can lie down on elvir hill without experiencing something of the sorcery of the place? flee from elvir hill, young swain, or the maids of elle will have power over you, and you will go elf-wild!--so say the danes. i had unconsciously laid myself down on haunted ground; and i am willing to imagine that what i then experienced was rather connected with the world of spirits and dreams than with what i actually saw and heard around me. surely the elves and genii of the place were conversing, by some inscrutable means, with the principle of intelligence lurking within the poor uncultivated clod! perhaps to that ethereal principle the wonders of the past, as connected with that stream, the glories of the present, and even the history of the future, were at that moment being revealed! of how many feats of chivalry had those old walls been witness, when hostile kings contended for their possession?--how many an army from the south and from the north had trod that old bridge?--what red and noble blood had crimsoned those rushing waters?--what strains had been sung, ay, were yet being sung on its banks?--some soft as doric reed; some fierce and sharp as those of norwegian skaldaglam; some as replete with wild and wizard force as finland's runes, singing of kalevale's moors, and the deeds of woinomoinen! honour to thee, thou island stream! onward mayst thou ever roll, fresh and green, rejoicing in thy bright past, thy glorious present, and in vivid hope of a triumphant future! flow on, beautiful one!--which of the world's streams canst thou envy, with thy beauty and renown? stately is the danube, rolling in its might through lands romantic with the wild exploits of turk, polak, and magyar! lovely is the rhine! on its shelvy banks grows the racy grape; and strange old keeps of robber-knights of yore are reflected in its waters, from picturesque crags and airy headlands!--yet neither the stately danube, nor the beauteous rhine, with all their fame, though abundant, needst thou envy, thou pure island stream!--and far less yon turbid river of old, not modern renown, gurgling beneath the walls of what was once proud rome, towering rome, jupiter's town, but now vile rome, crumbling rome, batuscha's town, far less needst thou envy the turbid tiber of bygone fame, creeping sadly to the sea, surcharged with the abominations of modern rome--how unlike to thee, thou pure island stream!" in this passage borrow concentrates upon one scene the feelings of three remote periods of his life. he gives the outward scene as he remembers it forty years after, and together with the thoughts which now come into his mind. he gives the romantic suggestion from one of the favourite ballads of his youth, "elvir hill." he gives the child himself weeping, he knows not why. yet the passage is one and indivisible. these, at any rate, are not "lies--damned lies." chapter ii--his own hero borrow's principal study was himself, and in all his best books he is the chief subject and the chief object. yet when he came to write confessedly and consecutively about himself he found it no easy task. dr. knapp gives an interesting account of the stages by which he approached and executed it. his first mature and original books, "the zincali," or "the gypsies of spain," and "the bible in spain," had a solid body of subject matter more or less interesting in itself, and anyone with a pen could have made it acceptable to the public which desires information. "the bible of spain" was the book of the year , read by everybody in one or other of the six editions published in the first twelve months. these books were also full of himself. even "the zincali," written for the most part in spain, when he was a man of about thirty and had no reason for expecting the public to be interested in himself, especially in a gypsy crowd--even that early book prophesied very different things. he said in the "preface" that he bore the gypsies no ill-will, for he had known them "for upwards of twenty years, in various countries, and they never injured a hair of his head, or deprived him of a shred of his raiment." the motive for this forbearance, he said, was that they thought him a gypsy. in his "introduction" he satisfied some curiosity, but raised still more, when speaking of the english gypsies and especially of their eminence "in those disgraceful and brutalising exhibitions called pugilistic combats." "when a boy of fourteen," he says, "i was present at a prize fight; why should i hide the truth? it took place on a green meadow, beside a running stream, close by the old church of e---, and within a league of the ancient town of n---, the capital of one of the eastern counties. the terrible thurtell was present, lord of the concourse; for wherever he moved he was master, and whenever he spoke, even when in chains, every other voice was silent. he stood on the mead, grim and pale as usual, with his bruisers around. he it was, indeed, who _got up_ the fight, as he had previously done with respect to twenty others; it being his frequent boast that he had first introduced bruising and bloodshed amidst rural scenes, and transformed a quiet slumbering town into a den of jews and metropolitan thieves. some time before the commencement of the combat, three men, mounted on wild-looking horses, came dashing down the road in the direction of the meadow, in the midst of which they presently showed themselves, their horses clearing the deep ditches with wonderful alacrity. 'that's gypsy will and his gang,' lisped a hebrew pickpocket; 'we shall have another fight.' the word gypsy was always sufficient to excite my curiosity, and i looked attentively at the new comers. "i have seen gypsies of various lands, russian, hungarian, and turkish; and i have also seen the legitimate children of most countries of the world, but i never saw, upon the whole, three more remarkable individuals, as far as personal appearance was concerned, than the three english gypsies who now presented themselves to my eyes on that spot. two of them had dismounted, and were holding their horses by the reins. the tallest, and, at the first glance, the most interesting of the two, was almost a giant, for his height could not have been less than six feet three. it is impossible for the imagination to conceive any thing more perfectly beautiful than were the features of this man, and the most skilful sculptor of greece might have taken them as his model for a hero and a god. the forehead was exceedingly lofty--a rare thing in a gypsy; the nose less roman than grecian--fine yet delicate; the eyes large, overhung with long drooping lashes, giving them almost a melancholy expression; it was only when they were highly elevated that the gypsy glance peered out, if that can be called glance which is a strange stare, like nothing else in this world. his complexion--a beautiful olive; and his teeth of a brilliancy uncommon even amongst these people, who have all fine teeth. he was dressed in a coarse waggoner's slop, which, however, was unable to conceal altogether the proportions of his noble and herculean figure. he might be about twenty-eight. his companion and his captain, gypsy will, was, i think, fifty when he was hanged, ten years subsequently (for i never afterwards lost sight of him), in the front of the jail of bury st. edmunds. i have still present before me his bushy black hair, his black face, and his big black eyes, full and thoughtful, but fixed and staring. his dress consisted of a loose blue jockey coat, jockey boots and breeches; in his hand a huge jockey whip, and on his head (it struck me at the time for its singularity) a broad- brimmed, high-peaked andalusian hat, or at least one very much resembling those generally worn in that province. in stature he was shorter than his more youthful companion, yet he must have measured six feet at least, and was stronger built, if possible. what brawn!--what bone!--what legs!--what thighs! the third gypsy, who remained on horseback, looked more like a phantom than any thing human. his complexion was the colour of pale dust, and of that same colour was all that pertained to him, hat and clothes. his boots were dusty of course, for it was midsummer, and his very horse was of a dusty dun. his features were whimsically ugly, most of his teeth were gone, and as to his age, he might be thirty or sixty. he was somewhat lame and halt, but an unequalled rider when once upon his steed, which he was naturally not very solicitous to quit. i subsequently discovered that he was considered the wizard of the gang. {picture: john thurtell. (from an old print.): page .jpg} "i have been already prolix with respect to these gypsies, but i will not leave them quite yet. the intended combatants at length arrived; it was necessary to clear the ring--always a troublesome and difficult task. thurtell went up to the two gypsies, with whom he seemed to be acquainted, and, with his surly smile, said two or three words, which i, who was standing by, did not understand. the gypsies smiled in return, and giving the reins of their animals to their mounted companion, immediately set about the task which the king of the flash-men had, as i conjecture, imposed upon them; this they soon accomplished. who could stand against such fellows and such whips? the fight was soon over--then there was a pause. once more thurtell came up to the gypsies and said something--the gypsies looked at each other and conversed; but their words had then no meaning for my ears. the tall gypsy shook his head. 'very well,' said the other, in english, 'i will--that's all.' "then pushing the people aside, he strode to the ropes, over which he bounded into the ring, flinging his spanish hat high into the air. "_gypsy will_.--'the best man in england for twenty pounds!' "_thurtell_.--'i am backer!' "twenty pounds is a tempting sum, and there were men that day upon the green meadow who would have shed the blood of their own fathers for the fifth of the price. but the gypsy was not an unknown man, his prowess and strength were notorious, and no one cared to encounter him. some of the jews looked eager for a moment; but their sharp eyes quailed quickly before his savage glances, as he towered in the ring, his huge form dilating, and his black features convulsed with excitement. the westminster bravos eyed the gypsy askance; but the comparison, if they made any, seemed by no means favourable to themselves. 'gypsy! rum chap.--ugly customer,--always in training.' such were the exclamations which i heard, some of which at that period of my life i did not understand. "no man would fight the gypsy.--yes! a strong country fellow wished to win the stakes, and was about to fling up his hat in defiance, but he was prevented by his friends, with--'fool! he'll kill you!' "as the gypsies were mounting their horses, i heard the dusty phantom exclaim-- "'brother, you are an arrant ring-maker and a horse-breaker; you'll make a hempen ring to break your own neck of a horse one of these days.' "they pressed their horses' flanks, again leaped over the ditches, and speedily vanished, amidst the whirlwinds of dust which they raised upon the road. "the words of the phantom gypsy were ominous. gypsy will was eventually executed for a murder committed in his early youth, in company with two english labourers, one of whom confessed the fact on his death-bed. he was the head of the clan young, which, with the clan smith, still haunts two of the eastern counties." in spite of this, borrow said in the same book that this would probably be the last occasion he would have to speak of the gypsies or anything relating to them. in "the bible in spain," written and revised several years later, he changed his mind. he wrote plenty about gypsies and still more about himself. when he wished to show the height of the spanish prime minister, mendizabal, he called him "a huge athletic man, somewhat taller than myself, who measure six feet two without my shoes." he informed the public that when he met an immense dog in strolling round the ruins above monte moro, he stooped till his chin nearly touched his knee and looked the animal full in the face, "and, as john leyden says, in the noblest ballad which the land of heather has produced:-- 'the hound he yowled, and back he fled, as struck with fairy charm.'" when his servant lopez was imprisoned at villallos, borrow had reason to fear that the man would be sacrificed to political opponents in that violent time, so, as he told the english minister at madrid, he bore off lopez, single-handed and entirely unarmed, through a crowd of at least one hundred peasants, and furthermore shouted: "hurrah for isabella the second." and as for mystery, "the bible in spain" abounds with invitations to admiration and curiosity. let one example suffice. he had come back to seville from a walk in the country when a man emerging from an archway looked in his face and started back, "exclaiming in the purest and most melodious french: 'what do i see? if my eyes do not deceive me--it is himself. yes, the very same as i saw him first at bayonne; then long subsequently beneath the brick wall at novgorod; then beside the bosphorus; and last at--at--o my respectable and cherished friend, where was it that i had last the felicity of seeing your well- remembered and most remarkable physiognomy?'" borrows answers: "it was in the south of ireland, if i mistake not. was it not there that i introduced you to the sorcerer who tamed the savage horses by a single whisper into their ear? but tell me, what brings you to spain and andalusia, the last place where i should have expected to find you." baron taylor (isidore justin severin, baron taylor, - ) now introduces him to a friend as "my most cherished and respectable friend, one who is better acquainted with gypsy ways than the chef de bohemiens a triana, one who is an expert whisperer and horse-sorcerer, and who, to his honour i say it, can wield hammer and tongs, and handle a horse-shoe, with the best of the smiths amongst the alpujarras of granada." borrow then lightly portrays his accomplished and extraordinary cosmopolitan friend, with the conclusion: "he has visited most portions of the earth, and it is remarkable enough that we are continually encountering each other in strange places and under singular circumstances. whenever he descries me, whether in the street or the desert, the brilliant hall or amongst bedouin haimas, at novgorod or stamboul, he flings up his arms and exclaims, 'o ciel! i have again the felicity of seeing my cherished and most respectable b---.'" borrow could not avoid making himself impressive and mysterious. he was impressive and mysterious without an effort; the individual or the public was impressed, and he was naturally tempted to be more impressive. thus, in december of the year he had to go to london for his first meeting with the bible society, who had been recommended to give him work where he could use his knowledge of languages. as he was at norwich, the distance was a hundred and twelve miles, and as he was poor he walked. he spent fivepence-halfpenny on a pint of ale, half-pint of milk, a roll of bread and two apples during the journey, which took him twenty-seven hours. he reached the society's office early in the morning and waited for the secretary. when the secretary arrived he hoped that borrow had slept well on his journey. borrow said that, as far as he knew, he had not slept, because he had walked. the secretary's surprise can be imagined from this alone, or if not, from what followed. for borrow went on talking, and told the man, among other things, that he was stolen by gypsies when he was a boy--had passed several years with them, but had at last been recognised at a fair in norfolk, and brought home to his family by an uncle. it was not to be expected that borrow would conceal from the public "several years" of this kind. nevertheless, in none of his books has he so much as hinted at a period of adoption with gypsies when he was a boy. nor has that massive sleuth-hound, dr. knapp, discovered any traces of such an adoption. if there is any foundation for the story except borrow's wish to please the secretary, it is the escapade of his fourteenth or fifteenth year--when he and three other boys from norwich grammar school played truant, intending to make caves to dwell in among the sandhills twenty miles away on the coast, but were recognised on the road, deceitfully detained by a benevolent gentleman and within a few days brought back, borrow himself being horsed on the back of james martineau, according to the picturesque legend, for such a thrashing that he had to lie in bed a fortnight and must bear the marks of it while he was flesh and blood. borrow celebrated this escapade by a ballad in dialogue called "the wandering children and the benevolent gentleman. an idyll of the roads." { a} there may have been another escapade of the same kind, for dr knapp { b} prints an account of how borrow, at the age of fifteen, and two schoolfellows lived for three days in a cave at acle when they ought to have been at school. but his companions were the same in both stories, and "three days in a cave" is a very modest increase for such a story in half-a-century. it was only fifteen years later that borrow took revenge upon the truth and told the story of his exile with the gypsies. {picture: the grammar school norwich. photo: jarrold & sons, norwich: page .jpg} probably every man has more or less clearly and more or less constantly before his mind's eye an ideal self which the real seldom more than approaches. this ideal self may be morally or in other ways inferior, but it remains the standard by which the man judges his acts. some men prove the existence of this ideal self by announcing now and then that they are misunderstood. or they do things which they afterwards condemn as irrelevant or uncharacteristic and out of harmony. borrow had an ideal self very clearly before him when he was writing, and it is probable that in writing he often described not what he was but what in a better, larger, freer, more borrovian world he would have actually become. he admired the work of his creator, but he would not affect to be satisfied with it in every detail, and stepping forward he snatched the brush and made a bolder line and braver colour. also he ardently desired to do more than he ever did. when in spain he wrote to his friend hasfeldt at st. petersburg, telling him that he wished to visit china by way of russia or constantinople and armenia. when indignant with the bible society in he suggested retiring to "the wilds of tartary or the zigani camps of siberia." he continued to suggest china even after his engagement to mrs. clarke. just as he played up to the secretary in conversation, so he played up to the friends and the public who were allured by the stories left untold or half-told in "the zincali" and "the bible in spain." chief among his encouragers was richard ford, author (in ) of the "handbook for travellers in spain and readers at home," a man of character and style, learned and a traveller. in , before "the bible in spain" appeared, ford told borrow how he wished that he had told more about himself, and how he was going to hint in a review that borrow ought to publish the whole of his adventures for the last twenty years. the publisher's reader, who saw the manuscript of "the bible in spain" in , suggested that borrow should prefix a short account of his birth, parentage, education and life. but already borrow had taken ford's hint and was thinking of an autobiography. by the end of he was suggesting a book on his early life, studies and adventures, gypsies, boxers, philosophers; and he afterwards announced that "lavengro" was planned and the characters sketched in and . he saw himself as a public figure that had to be treated heroically. read, for example, his preface to the second edition of "the zincali," dated march , . there he tells of his astonishment at the success of "the zincali," and of john murray bidding him not to think too much of the book but to try again and avoid "gypsy poetry, dry laws, and compilations from dull spanish authors." "borromeo," he makes murray say to him, "borromeo, don't believe all you hear, nor think that you have accomplished anything so very extraordinary. . . ." and so, he says, he sat down and began "the bible in spain." he proceeds to make a picture of himself amidst a landscape by some raving titanic painter's hand: "at first," he says, "i proceeded slowly,--sickness was in the land and the face of nature was overcast,--heavy rain-clouds swam in the heavens,--the blast howled amid the pines which nearly surround my lonely dwelling, and the waters of the lake which lies before it, so quiet in general and tranquil, were fearfully agitated. 'bring lights hither, o hayim ben attar, son of the miracle!' and the jew of fez brought in the lights, for though it was midday i could scarcely see in the little room where i was writing. . . . "a dreary summer and autumn passed by, and were succeeded by as gloomy a winter. i still proceeded with 'the bible in spain.' the winter passed and spring came with cold dry winds and occasional sunshine, whereupon i arose, shouted, and mounting my horse, even sidi habismilk, i scoured all the surrounding district, and thought but little of 'the bible in spain.' "so i rode about the country, over the heaths, and through the green lanes of my native land, occasionally visiting friends at a distance, and sometimes, for variety's sake, i staid at home and amused myself by catching huge pike, which lie perdue in certain deep ponds skirted with lofty reeds, upon my land, and to which there is a communication from the lagoon by a deep and narrow watercourse.--i had almost forgotten 'the bible in spain.' "then came the summer with much heat and sunshine, and then i would lie for hours in the sun and recall the sunny days i had spent in andalusia, and my thoughts were continually reverting to spain, and at last i remembered that 'the bible in spain' was still unfinished; whereupon i arose and said: this loitering profiteth nothing,--and i hastened to my summer-house by the side of the lake, and there i thought and wrote, and every day i repaired to the same place, and thought and wrote until i had finished 'the bible in spain.' "and at the proper season 'the bible in spain' was given to the world; and the world, both learned and unlearned, was delighted with 'the bible in spain,' and the highest authority said, 'this is a much better book than the gypsies;' and the next great authority said, 'something betwixt le sage and bunyan.' 'a far more entertaining work than don quixote,' exclaimed a literary lady. 'another gil blas,' said the cleverest writer in europe. 'yes,' exclaimed the cool sensible spectator, 'a gil blas _in water colours_.' "a _gil blas_ in water colours"--that, he says himself, pleased him better than all the rest. he liked to think that out of his adventures in distributing bibles in spain, out of letters describing his work to his employers, the bible society, he had made a narrative to be compared with the fictitious life and adventures of that gentle spanish rogue, gil blas of santillana. no wonder that he saw himself a public figure to be treated reverently, nay! heroically. and so when he comes to consider somebody's suggestion that the gypsies are of jewish origin, he relates a "little adventure" of his own, bringing in mr. petulengro and the jewish servant whom he had brought back with him after his last visit to spain. he mounts the heroic figure upon an heroic horse: "so it came to pass," he says, "that one day i was scampering over a heath, at some distance from my present home: i was mounted upon the good horse sidi habismilk, and the jew of fez, swifter than the wind, ran by the side of the good horse habismilk, when what should i see at a corner of the heath but the encampment of certain friends of mine; and the chief of that camp, even mr. petulengro, stood before the encampment, and his adopted daughter, miss pinfold, stood beside him. "_myself_.--'kosko divvus, { a} mr. petulengro! i am glad to see you: how are you getting on?' "_mr. petulengro_.--'how am i getting on? as well as i can. what will you have for that nokengro?' { b} "thereupon i dismounted, and delivering the reins of the good horse to miss pinfold, i took the jew of fez, even hayim ben attar, by the hand, and went up to mr. petulengro, exclaiming, 'sure ye are two brothers.' anon the gypsy passed his hand over the jew's face, and stared him in the eyes: then turning to me, he said, 'we are not dui palor; { c} this man is no roman; i believe him to be a jew; he has the face of one; besides if he were a rom, even from jericho, he could rokra a few words in rommany.'" still more important than this equestrian figure of borrow on sidi habismilk is the note on "the english dialect of the rommany" hidden away at the end of the second edition of "the zincali." "'tachipen if i jaw 'doi, i can lel a bit of tan to hatch: n'etist i shan't puch kekomi wafu gorgies.' "the above sentence, dear reader, i heard from the mouth of mr. petulengro, the last time that he did me the honour to visit me at my poor house, which was the day after mol-divvus, { a} : he stayed with me during the greatest part of the morning, discoursing on the affairs of egypt, the aspect of which, he assured me, was becoming daily worse and worse. 'there is no living for the poor people, brother,' said he, 'the chokengres (police) pursue us from place to place, and the gorgios are become either so poor or miserly, that they grudge our cattle a bite of grass by the way side, and ourselves a yard of ground to light a fire upon. unless times alter, brother, and of that i see no probability, unless you are made either poknees or mecralliskoe geiro (justice of the peace or prime minister), i am afraid the poor persons will have to give up wandering altogether, and then what will become of them? "'however, brother,' he continued, in a more cheerful tone: 'i am no hindity mush, { b} as you well know. i suppose you have not forgot how, fifteen years ago, when you made horse-shoes in the little dingle by the side of the great north road, i lent you fifty cottors { c} to purchase the wonderful trotting cob of the innkeeper with the green newmarket coat, which three days after you sold for two hundred. "'well, brother, if you had wanted the two hundred, instead of the fifty, i could have lent them to you, and would have done so, for i knew you would not be long pazorrhus to me. i am no hindity mush, brother, no irishman; i laid out the other day twenty pounds, in buying ruponoe peamengries; { a} and in the chong-gav, { b} have a house of my own with a yard behind it. "'_and_, _forsooth_, _if i go thither_, _i can choose a place to light a fire upon_, _and shall have no necessity to ask leave of these here gentiles_.' "well, dear reader, this last is the translation of the gypsy sentence which heads the chapter, and which is a very characteristic specimen of the general way of speaking of the english gypsies." here be mysteries. the author of "the bible in spain" is not only taken for a gypsy, but once upon a time made horse-shoes in a dingle beside the great north road and trafficked in horses. when borrow told john murray of the christmas meeting with ambrose smith, whom he now called "the gypsy king," he said he was dressed in "true regal fashion." on the last day of that year he told murray that he often meditated on his "life" and was arranging scenes. that reminder about the dingle and the wonderful trotting cob, and the christmas wine, was stirring his brain. in two months time he had begun to write his "life." he got back from the bible society the letters written to them when he was their representative in russia, and these he hoped to use as he had already used those written in spain. ford encouraged him, saying: "truth is great and always pleases. never mind nimminy-pimminy people thinking subjects _low_. things are low in manner of handling." in the midsummer of borrow told murray that he was getting on--"some parts are very wild and strange," others are full of "useful information." in another place he called the pictures in it rembrandts interspersed with claudes. at first the book was to have been "my life, a drama, by george borrow"; at the end of the year it was "lavengro, a biography," and also "my life." he was writing slowly "to please himself." later on he called it a biography "in the robinson crusoe style." nearly three years passed since that meeting with mr. petulengro, and still the book was not ready. ford had been pressing him to lift a corner of the curtain which he had gradually let fall over the seven years of his life preceding his work for the bible society, but he made no promise. he was bent on putting in nothing but his best work, and avoiding haste. in july, , murray announced, among his "new works in preparation," "lavengro, an autobiography, by george borrow." the first volume went to press in the autumn, and there was another announcement of "lavengro, an autobiography," followed by one of "life, a drama." yet again in the book was announced as "lavengro, an autobiography," though the first volume already bore the title, "life, a drama." in publication was still delayed by borrow's ill health and his reluctance to finish and have done with the book. it was still announced as "lavengro, an autobiography." but at the end of the year it was "lavengro: the scholar--the gypsy--the priest," and with that title it appeared early in . borrow was then forty-six years old, and the third volume of his book left him still in the dingle beside the great north road, when he was, according to the conversation with mr. petulengro, a young man of twenty-one. {picture: east dereham church, norfolk. photo: h. t. cave, east dereham: page .jpg} chapter iii--presenting the truth "life, a drama," was to have been published in , and proof sheets with this name and date on the title page were lately in my hands: as far as page the left hand page heading is "a dramatic history," which is there crossed out and "life, a drama" thenceforward substituted. borrow's corrections are worth the attention of anyone who cares for men and books. "lavengro" now opens with the sentence: "on an evening of july, in the year --, at east d---, a beautiful little town in a certain district of east anglia, i first saw the light." the proof shows that borrow preferred "a certain district of east anglia" to "the western division of norfolk." here the added shade of indefiniteness can hardly seem valuable to any but the author himself. in another place he prefers (chapter xiii.) the vague "one of the most glorious of homer's rhapsodies" to "the enchantments of canidia, the masterpiece of the prince of roman poets." in the second chapter he describes how, near pett, in sussex, as a child less than three years old, he took up a viper without being injured or even resisted, amid the alarms of his mother and elder brother. after this description he comments: "it is my firm belief that certain individuals possess an inherent power, or fascination, over certain creatures, otherwise i should be unable to account for many feats which i have witnessed, and, indeed, borne a share in, connected with the taming of brutes and reptiles." this was in the proof preceded by a passage at first modified and then cut out, reading thus: "in some parts of the world and more particularly in india there are people who devote themselves to the pursuit and taming of serpents. had i been born in those regions i perhaps should have been what is termed a snake charmer. that i had a genius for the profession, as probably all have who follow it, i gave decided proof of the above instance as in others which i shall have occasion subsequently to relate." this he cut out presumably because it was too "informing" and too little "wild and strange." a little later in the same chapter he describes how, before he was four years old, near hythe, in kent, he saw in a penthouse against an old village church, "skulls of the old danes": "'long ago' (said the sexton, with borrow's aid), 'long ago they came pirating into these parts: and then there chanced a mighty shipwreck, for god was angry with them, and he sunk them; and their skulls, as they came ashore, were placed here as a memorial. there were many more when i was young, but now they are fast disappearing. some of them must have belonged to strange fellows, madam. only see that one; why, the two young gentry can scarcely lift it!' and, indeed, my brother and myself had entered the golgotha, and commenced handling these grim relics of mortality. one enormous skull, lying in a corner, had fixed our attention, and we had drawn it forth. spirit of eld, what a skull was yon! "i still seem to see it, the huge grim thing; many of the others were large, strikingly so, and appeared fully to justify the old man's conclusion that their owners must have been strange fellows; but compared with this mighty mass of bone they looked small and diminutive, like those of pigmies; it must have belonged to a giant, one of those red-haired warriors of whose strength and stature such wondrous tales are told in the ancient chronicles of the north, and whose grave-hills, when ransacked, occasionally reveal secrets which fill the minds of puny moderns with astonishment and awe. reader, have you ever pored days and nights over the pages of snorro? probably not, for he wrote in a language which few of the present day understand, and few would be tempted to read him tamed down by latin dragomans. a brave old book is that of snorro, containing the histories and adventures of old northern kings and champions, who seemed to have been quite different men, if we may judge from the feats which they performed, from those of these days. one of the best of his histories is that which describes the life of harald haardraade, who, after manifold adventures by land and sea, now a pirate, now a mercenary of the greek emperor, became king of norway, and eventually perished at the battle of stanford bridge, whilst engaged in a gallant onslaught upon england. now, i have often thought that the old kemp, whose mouldering skull in the golgotha at hythe my brother and myself could scarcely lift, must have resembled in one respect at least this harald, whom snorro describes as a great and wise ruler and a determined leader, dangerous in battle, of fair presence, and measuring in height just _five ells_, neither more nor less." of this incident he says he need offer no apology for relating it "as it subsequently exercised considerable influence over his pursuits," _i.e._, his study of danish literature; but in the proof he added also that the incident, "perhaps more than anything else, tended to bring my imaginative powers into action"--this he cut out, though the skulls may have impressed him as the skeleton disinterred by a horse impressed richard jefferies and haunted him in his "gamekeeper," "meadow thoughts," and elsewhere. sometimes he modified a showy phrase, and "when i became ambitious of the title of lavengro and strove to deserve it" was cut down to "when i became a student." when he wrote of cowper in the third chapter he said, to justify cowper's melancholy, that "providence, whose ways are not our ways, interposed, and with the withering blasts of misery nipped that which otherwise might have terminated in fruit, noxious and lamentable"; but he substituted a mere "perhaps" for the words about providence. in the description of young jasper he changed his "short arms like" his father, into "long arms unlike." in the fourteenth chapter borrow describes his father's retirement from the army after waterloo, and his settling down at norwich, so poor as to be anxious for his children's future. he speaks of poor officers who "had slight influence with the great who gave themselves very little trouble either about them or their families." originally he went on thus, but cut out the words from the proof: "yet i have reason for concluding that they were not altogether overlooked by a certain power still higher than even the aristocracy of england and with yet more extensive influence in the affairs of the world. i allude to providence, which, it is said, never forsakes those who trust in it, as i suppose these old soldiers did, for i have known many instances in which their children have contrived to make their way gallantly in the world, unaided by the patronage of the great, whilst others who were possessed of it were most miserably shipwrecked, being suddenly overset by some unexpected squall, against which it could avail them nothing." this change is a relief to the style. the next which i shall quote is something more than that. it shows borrow constructing the conversation of his father and mother when they were considering his prospects at the age of twelve. his father was complaining of the boy's gypsy look, and of his ways and manners, and of the strange company he kept in ireland--"people of evil report, of whom terrible things were said--horse- witches and the like." his mother made the excuse: "but he thinks of other things now." "other languages, you mean," said his father. but in the proof his mother adds to her speech, "he is no longer in ireland," and the father takes her up with, "so much the better for him; yet should he ever fall into evil practices, i shall always lay it to the account of that melancholy sojourn in ireland and the acquaintances he formed there." instead of putting into his friend, the anglo-germanist williams taylor's mouth, the opinion "that as we are aware that others frequently misinterpret us, we are equally liable to fall into the same error with respect to them," he alters it to the very different one, "that there is always some eye upon us; and that it is impossible to keep anything we do from the world, as it will assuredly be divulged by somebody as soon as it is his interest to do so." in the twenty-fourth chapter borrow makes thurtell, the friend of bruisers, hint, with unconscious tragic irony, at his famous end--by dying upon the gallows for the murder of mr. william weare. he tells the magistrate whom he has asked to lend him a piece of land for a prize-fight that his own name is no matter. "however," he continues, "a time may come--we are not yet buried--whensoever my hour arrives, i hope i shall prove myself equal to my destiny, however high-- "like bird that's bred amongst the helicons." in the original thurtell's quotation was: "no poor unminded outlaw sneaking home." this chapter now ends with the magistrate's question to young borrow about this man: "what is his name?" in the manuscript borrow answered, "john thurtell." the proof had, "john . . ." borrow hesitated, and in the margin, having crossed out "john," he put the initial "j" as a substitute, but finally crossed that out also. he was afraid of names which other people might know and regard in a different way. thus in the same proof he altered "the philologist scaliger" to "a certain philologist": thus, too, he would not write down the name of dereham, but kept on calling it "pretty d---"; and when he had to refer to cowper as buried in dereham church he spoke of the poet, not by name, but as "england's sweetest and most pious bard." {picture: page of "lavengro," showing borrow's corrections. (photographed from the author's proof copy, by kind permission of mr. kyllmann and mr. thos. seccombe.) photo: w. j. roberts: page .jpg} chapter iv--what is truth? these changes in the proof of what was afterwards called "lavengro" were, it need hardly be said, made in order to bring the words nearer to a representation of the idea in borrow's brain, and nearer to a perfect harmony with one another. take the case of jasper petulengro's arm. borrow knew the man ambrose smith well enough to know whether he had a long or a short arm: for did not jasper say to him when he was dismal, "we'll now go to the tents and put on the gloves, and i'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive, brother!" possibly he had a short arm like his father, but in reading the proof it must somehow have seemed to borrow that his jasper petulengro--founded on ambrose smith and at many points resembling him--ought to have a long arm. the short arm was true to "the facts"; the long arm was more impressive and was truer to the created character, which was more important. it was hardly these little things that kept borrow working at "lavengro" for nearly half of his fourth decade and a full half of his fifth. but these little things were part of the great difficulty of making an harmonious whole by changing, cutting out and inserting. when ford and john murray's reader asked him for his life they probably meant a plain statement of a few "important facts," such facts as there could hardly be two opinions about, such facts as fill the ordinary biography or "who's who." borrow knew well enough that these facts either produce no effect in the reader's mind or they produce one effect here and a different one there, since the dullest mind cannot blankly receive a dead statement without some effort to give it life. borrow was not going to commit himself to incontrovertible statements such as are or might be made to a life insurance company. he had no command of a tombstone style and would not have himself circumscribed with full christian name, date of birth, etc., as a sexton or parish clerk might have done for him. twenty years later indeed--in --he did write such an account of himself to be printed as part of an appendix to a history of his old school at norwich. it is full of dates, but they are often inaccurate, and the years to he fills with "a life of roving adventures." he cannot refrain from calling himself a great rider, walker and swimmer, or from telling the story of how he walked from norwich to london--he calls it london to norwich--in twenty-seven hours. but in he could rely on "lavengro" and "the romany rye"; he was an author at the end of his career, and he had written himself down to the best of his genius. the case was different in . he saw himself as a man variously and mysteriously alive, very different from every other man and especially from certain kinds of man. when you look at a larch wood with a floor of fern in october at the end of twilight, you are not content to have that wood described as so many hundred poles growing on three acres of land, the property of a manufacturer of gin. still less was borrow content to sit down at oulton, while the blast howled amid the pines which nearly surround his lonely dwelling, and answer the genial ford's questions one by one: "what countries have you been in? what languages do you understand?" and so on. ford probably divined a book as substantial and well-furnished with milestones as "the bible in spain," and he cheerfully told borrow to make the broth "thick and slab." ford, in fact, doubled the difficulty. not only did borrow feel that his book must create a living soul, but the soul must be heroic to meet the expectations of ford and the public. the equestrian group had been easy enough--himself mounted on sidi habismilk, with the swift jew and the gypsy at his side--but the life of a man was a different matter. nor was the task eased by his exceptional memory. he claimed, as has been seen, to remember the look of the viper seen in his third year. later, in "lavengro," he meets a tinker and buys his stock-in-trade to set himself up with. the tinker tries to put him off by tales of the blazing tinman who has driven him from his beat. borrow answers that he can manage the tinman one way or other, saying, "i know all kinds of strange words and names, and, as i told you before, i sometimes hit people when they put me out." at last the tinker consents to sell his pony and things on one condition. "tell me what's my name," he says; "if you can't, may i--." borrow answers: "don't swear, it's a bad habit, neither pleasant nor profitable. your name is slingsby--jack slingsby. there, don't stare, there's nothing in my telling you your name: i've been in these parts before, at least not very far from here. ten years ago, when i was little more than a child, i was about twenty miles from here in a post chaise, at the door of an inn, and as i looked from the window of the chaise, i saw you standing by a gutter, with a big tin ladle in your hand, and somebody called you jack slingsby. i never forget anything i hear or see; i can't, i wish i could. so there's nothing strange in my knowing your name; indeed there's nothing strange in anything, provided you examine it to the bottom. now what am i to give you for the things?" (i once heard a gypsy give a similar and equal display of memory.) dr. knapp has corroborated several details of "lavengro" which confirm borrow's opinion of his memory. hearing the author whom he met on his walk beyond salisbury, speak of the "wine of , the comet year," borrow said that he remembered being in the market-place of dereham, looking at that comet. { } dr knapp first makes sure exactly when borrow was at dereham in and then that there was a comet visible during that time. he proves also from newspapers of that the fight, in the twenty sixth chapter of "lavengro," ended in a thunderstorm like that described by borrow and used by petulengro to forecast the violent end of thurtell. now a brute memory like that, which cannot be gainsaid, is not an entirely good servant to a man who will not put down everything he can, like a boy at an examination. the ordinary man probably recalls all that is of importance in his past life, though he may not like to think so, but a man with a memory like borrow's or with a supply of diaries like sir mountstuart grant duff's may well ask, "what is truth?" as borrow often did. the facts may convey a false impression which an omission or a positive "lie" may correct. {picture: a page from the author's proof copy of "lavengro," showing borrow's significant corrections. (photographed by kind permission of mr. kyllmann and mr. thos. seccombe.) photo: w. j. roberts: page .jpg} just at first, as has been seen, a month after his christmas wine with mr petulengro, borrow saw his life as a drama, perhaps as a melodrama, full of gypsies, jockeys and horses, wild men of many lands and several murderers. "capital subject," he repeated. that was when he saw himself as an adventurer and europe craning its neck to keep him in sight. but he knew well, and after the first flush he remembered, that he was not merely a robust walker, rider and philologist. when he was only eighteen he was continually asking himself "what is truth?" "i had," he says, "involved myself imperceptibly in a dreary labyrinth of doubt, and, whichever way i turned, no reasonable prospect of extricating myself appeared. the means by which i had brought myself into this situation may be very briefly told; i had inquired into many matters, in order that i might become wise, and i had read and pondered over the words of the wise, so called, till i had made myself master of the sum of human wisdom; namely, that everything is enigmatical and that man is an enigma to himself; thence the cry of 'what is truth?' i had ceased to believe in the truth of that in which i had hitherto trusted, and yet could find nothing in which i could put any fixed or deliberate belief. i was, indeed, in a labyrinth! in what did i not doubt? with respect to crime and virtue i was in doubt; i doubted that the one was blameable and the other praiseworthy. are not all things subjected to the law of necessity? assuredly; time and chance govern all things: yet how can this be? alas! "then there was myself; for what was i born? are not all things born to be forgotten? that's incomprehensible: yet is it not so? those butterflies fall and are forgotten. in what is man better than a butterfly? all then is born to be forgotten. ah! that was a pang indeed; 'tis at such a moment that a man wishes to die. the wise king of jerusalem, who sat in his shady arbours beside his sunny fishpools, saying so many fine things, wished to die, when he saw that not only all was vanity, but that he himself was vanity. will a time come when all will be forgotten that now is beneath the sun? if so, of what profit is life? . . . "'would i had never been born!' i said to myself; and a thought would occasionally intrude. but was i ever born? is not all that i see a lie--a deceitful phantom? is there a world, and earth, and sky? . . ." if he no longer articulated these doubts he was still not as sure of himself as ford imagined. he was, by the way, seldom sure of his own age, and dr. knapp { } gives four instances of his underestimating it by two and even five years. whatever may be the explanation of this, after three years' work at "lavengro" he "will not be hurried for anyone." he was probably finding that, with no notebooks or letters to help, the work was very different from the writing of "the bible in spain," which was pieced together out of long letters to the bible society, and, moreover, was written within a few years of the events described. the events of his childhood and youth had retired into a perspective that was beyond his control: he would often be tempted to change their perspective, to bring forward some things, to set back others. in any case these things were no longer mere solid material facts. they were living a silent life of spirits within his brain. he took to calling the book his "life" or "autobiography," not "life: a drama." it was advertised as such; but he would not have it. at the last moment he refused to label it an autobiography, because he knew that it was inadequate, and that in any case other men would not understand or would misunderstand it. he must have felt certain that the fair figure of "don jorge," created in "the bible of spain," had been poisoned for most readers by many a passage in "lavengro," like that where he doubted the existence of self and sky and stars, or where he told of the breakdown in his health when he was sixteen and of the gloom that followed: "but how much more quickly does strength desert the human frame than return to it! i had become convalescent, it is true, but my state of feebleness was truly pitiable. i believe it is in that state that the most remarkable feature of human physiology frequently exhibits itself. oh, how dare i mention the dark feeling of mysterious dread which comes over the mind, and which the lamp of reason, though burning bright the while, is unable to dispel! art thou, as leeches say, the concomitant of disease--the result of shattered nerves? nay, rather the principle of woe itself, the fountain head of all sorrow co-existent with man, whose influence he feels when yet unborn, and whose workings he testifies with his earliest cries, when, 'drowned in tears,' he first beholds the light; for, as the sparks fly upward, so is man born to trouble, and woe doth he bring with him into the world, even thyself, dark one, terrible one, causeless, unbegotten, without a father. oh, how frequently dost thou break down the barriers which divide thee from the poor soul of man, and overcast its sunshine with thy gloomy shadow. in the brightest days of prosperity--in the midst of health and wealth--how sentient is the poor human creature of thy neighbourhood! how instinctively aware that the floodgates of horror may be cast open, and the dark stream engulf him for ever and ever! then is it not lawful for man to exclaim, 'better that i had never been born!' fool, for thyself thou wast not born, but to fulfil the inscrutable decrees of thy creator; and how dost thou know that this dark principle is not, after all, thy best friend; that it is not that which tempers the whole mass of thy corruption? it may be, for what thou knowest, the mother of wisdom, and of the great works: it is the dread of the horror of the night that makes the pilgrim hasten on his way. when thou feelest it nigh, let thy safety word be 'onward'; if thou tarry, thou art overwhelmed. courage! build great works--'tis urging thee--it is ever nearest the favourites of god--the fool knows little of it. thou wouldst be joyous, wouldst thou? then be a fool. what great work was ever the result of joy, the puny one? who have been the wise ones, the mighty ones, the conquering ones of this earth? the joyous? i believe not. the fool is happy, or comparatively so--certainly the least sorrowful, but he is still a fool; and whose notes are sweetest, those of the nightingale, or of the silly lark? * * * * * "'what ails you, my child?' said a mother to her son, as he lay on a couch under the influence of the dreadful one; 'what ails you? you seem afraid!' "_boy_.--'and so i am; a dreadful fear is upon me.' "_mother_.--'but of what? there is no one can harm you; of what are you apprehensive?' "_boy_.--'of nothing that i can express; i know not what i am afraid of, but afraid i am.' "_mother_.--'perhaps you see sights and visions; i knew a lady once who was continually thinking that she saw an armed man threaten her, but it was only an imagination, a phantom of the brain.' "_boy_.--'no armed man threatens me; and 'tis not a thing that would cause me any fear. did an armed man threaten me, i would get up and fight him; weak as i am, i would wish for nothing better, for then, perhaps, i should lose this fear; mine is a dread of i know not what, and there the horror lies.' "_mother_.--'your forehead is cool, and your speech collected. do you know where you are?' "_boy_.--'i know where i am, and i see things just as they are; you are beside me, and upon the table there is a book which was written by a florentine; all this i see, and that there is no ground for being afraid. i am, moreover, quite cool, and feel no pain--but, but--' "and then there was a burst of 'gemiti, sospiri ed alti guai.' alas, alas, poor child of clay! as the sparks fly upward, so wast thou born to sorrow--onward!" and if men passed over this as a youthful distemper, rather often recurring, what would they make of his saying that "fame after death is better than the top of fashion in life"? would they not accuse him of entertaining them, as he did his companion and half-sweetheart of the dingle, isopel berners, "with strange dreams of adventure, in which he figures in opaque forests, strangling wild beasts, or discovering and plundering the hordes of dragons; and sometimes . . . other things far more genuine--how he had tamed savage mares, wrestled with satan, and had dealings with ferocious publishers"? he did not simplify the matter by his preface. there he announced that the book was "a dream." he had, he said, endeavoured to describe a dream, partly of adventure, in which will be found copious notices of books and many descriptions of life and manners, some in a very unusual form. a dream containing "copious notices of books"! a dream in three volumes and over a thousand pages! a dream which he had "endeavoured to describe"! from these three words it was necessary to suppose that it was a real dream, not a narrative introduced by the machinery of a dream, like "pilgrim's progress," and "the dream of fair women." and so it was. the book was not an autobiography but a representation of a man's life in the backward dream of memory. he had refused to drag the events of his life out of the spirit land, to turn them into a narrative on the same plane as a newspaper, leaving readers to convert them back again into reality or not, according to their choice or ability. his life seemed to him a dream, not a newspaper obituary, not an equestrian statue on a pedestal in albemarle street opposite john murray's office. the result was that "the long-talked-of autobiography" disappointed those who expected more than a collection of bold picaresque sketches. "it is not," complained the "athenaeum," "an autobiography, even with the licence of fiction;" "the interest of autobiography is lost," and as a work of fiction it is a failure. "fraser's magazine" said that it was "for ever hovering between romance and reality, and the whole tone of the narrative inspires profound distrust. nay, more, it will make us disbelieve the tales in 'the zincali' and 'the bible in spain.'" another critic found "a false dream in the place of reality, a shadowy nothing in the place of that something all who had read 'the bible in spain' craved and hoped for from his pen." his friend, william bodham donne, in "tait's edinburgh magazine," explained how "lavengro" was "not exactly what the public had been expecting." another friend, whitwell elwin, in the "quarterly review," reviewing "lavengro" and its continuation, "the romany rye," not only praised the truth and vividness of the descriptions, but said that "various portions of the history are known to be a faithful narrative of mr. borrow's career, while we ourselves can testify, as to many other parts of his volumes, that nothing can excel the fidelity with which he has described both men and things," and "why under these circumstances he should envelop the question in mystery is more than we can divine. there can be no doubt that the larger part, and possibly the whole, of the work is a narrative of actual occurrences, and just as little that it would gain immensely by a plain avowal of the fact." i have suggested that there were good reasons for not calling the work an autobiography. dr. knapp has shown in his fortieth chapter that the narrative was interrupted to admit lengthy references to much later events for purposes of "occult vengeance"; and that these interruptions helped to cause the delay and to change the title there can be little doubt. borrow was angry at the failure of "lavengro," and in the appendix to "the romany rye" he actually said that he had never called "lavengro" an autobiography and never authorised anyone to call it such. this was not a lie but a somewhat frantic assertion that his critics were mistaken about his "dream." in later years he quietly admitted that "lavengro" gave an account of his early life. yet dr. knapp was not strictly and completely accurate in saying that the first volume of "lavengro" is "strictly autobiographical and authentic as the whole was at first intended to be." he could give no proof that borrow's memory went back to his third year or that he first handled a viper at that time. he could only show that borrow's accounts do not conflict with other accounts of the same matters. when they did conflict, dr. knapp was unduly elated by the discovery. take, for example, the sixteenth chapter of "lavengro," where he describes the horse fair at norwich when he was a boy: "the reader is already aware that i had long since conceived a passion for the equine race, a passion in which circumstances had of late not permitted me to indulge. i had no horses to ride, but i took pleasure in looking at them; and i had already attended more than one of these fairs: the present was lively enough, indeed horse fairs are seldom dull. there was shouting and whooping, neighing and braying; there was galloping and trotting; fellows with highlows and white stockings, and with many a string dangling from the knees of their tight breeches, were running desperately, holding horses by the halter, and in some cases dragging them along; there were long-tailed steeds, and dock-tailed steeds of every degree and breed; there were droves of wild ponies, and long rows of sober cart horses; there were donkeys and even mules: the last rare things to be seen in damp, misty england, for the mule pines in mud and rain, and thrives best with a hot sun above and a burning sand below. there were--oh, the gallant creatures! i hear their neigh upon the wind; there were--goodliest sight of all--certain enormous quadrupeds only seen to perfection in our native isle, led about by dapper grooms, their manes ribanded and their tails curiously clubbed and balled. ha! ha!--how distinctly do they say, ha! ha! "an old man draws nigh, he is mounted on a lean pony, and he leads by the bridle one of these animals; nothing very remarkable about that creature, unless in being smaller than the rest and gentle, which they are not; he is not of the sightliest look; he is almost dun, and over one eye a thick film has gathered. but stay! there _is_ something remarkable about that horse, there is something in his action in which he differs from all the rest: as he advances, the clamour is hushed! all eyes are turned upon him--what looks of interest--of respect--and, what is this? people are taking off their hats--surely not to that steed! yes, verily! men, especially old men, are taking off their hats to that one-eyed steed, and i hear more than one deep-drawn ah! "'what horse is that?' said i to a very old fellow, the counterpart of the old man on the pony, save that the last wore a faded suit of velveteen, and this one was dressed in a white frock. "'the best in mother england,' said the very old man, taking a knobbed stick from his mouth, and looking me in the face, at first carelessly, but presently with something like interest; 'he is old like myself, but can still trot his twenty miles an hour. you won't live long, my swain; tall and overgrown ones like thee never does; yet, if you should chance to reach my years, you may boast to thy great grand boys, thou hast seen marshland shales.' "amain i did for the horse what i would neither do for earl or baron, doffed my hat; yes! i doffed my hat to the wondrous horse, the fast trotter, the best in mother england; and i, too, drew a deep ah! and repeated the words of the old fellows around. 'such a horse as this we shall never see again, a pity that he is so old.'" but dr. knapp informs us that the well-known trotting stallion, marshland shales, was not offered for sale by auction until , when he was twenty-five years old, and ten years after the date implied in "lavengro." and what is more, dr. knapp concludes that borrow must have been in norwich in , on the fair day, april . chapter v--his predecessors i do not wish to make borrow out a suffering innocent in the hands of that learned heavy-weight and wag, dr. knapp. borrow was a writing man; he was sometimes a friend of jockeys, of gypsies and of pugilists, but he was always a writing man; and the writer who is delighted to have his travels in spain compared with the rogue romance, "gil blas," is no innocent. photography, it must be remembered, was not invented. it was not in those days thought possible to get life on to the paper by copying it with ink. words could not be the equivalents of acts. life itself is fleeting, but words remain and are put to our account. every action, it is true, is as old as man and never perishes without an heir. but so are words as old as man, and they are conservative and stern in their treatment of transitory life. every action seems new and unique to the doer, but how rarely does it seem so when it is recorded in words, how rarely perhaps it is possible for it to seem so. a new form of literature cannot be invented to match the most grand or most lovely life. and fortunately; for if it could, one more proof of the ancient lineage of our life would have been lost. borrow did not sacrifice the proof. he had read many books in many languages, and he had a strong taste. he liked "gil blas," which is a simple chain of various and surprising adventures. he liked the lives of criminals in the "newgate lives and trials" (or rather "celebrated trials," ), which he compiled for a publisher in his youth. "what struck me most," he said, "with respect to these lives was the art which the writers, whoever they were, possessed of telling a plain story. it is no easy thing to tell a story plainly and distinctly by mouth; but to tell one on paper is difficult indeed, so many snares lie in the way. people are afraid to put down what is common on paper, they seek to embellish their narrative, as they think, by philosophic speculations and reflections; they are anxious to shine, and people who are anxious to shine, can never tell a plain story. 'so i went with them to a music booth, where they made me almost drunk with gin, and began to talk their flash language, which i did not understand,' says, or is made to say, henry simms, executed at tyburn some seventy years before the time of which i am speaking. i have always looked upon this sentence as a masterpiece of the narrative style, it is so concise and yet so very clear." borrow read bunyan, sterne and smollett: he liked byron's "childe harold" and his "ode to napoleon bonaparte";--he liked that portrait with all europe and all history for a background. above all, he read defoe, and in the third chapter of "lavengro" he has described his first sight of "robinson crusoe" as a little child: "the first object on which my eyes rested was a picture; it was exceedingly well executed, at least the scene which it represented made a vivid impression upon me, which would hardly have been the case had the artist not been faithful to nature. a wild scene it was--a heavy sea and rocky shore, with mountains in the background, above which the moon was peering. not far from the shore, upon the water, was a boat with two figures in it, one of which stood at the bow, pointing with what i knew to be a gun at a dreadful shape in the water; fire was flashing from the muzzle of the gun, and the monster appeared to be transfixed. i almost thought i heard its cry. i remained motionless, gazing upon the picture, scarcely daring to draw my breath, lest the new and wondrous world should vanish of which i had now obtained a glimpse. 'who are those people, and what could have brought them into that strange situation?' i asked myself; and now the seed of curiosity, which had so long lain dormant, began to expand, and i vowed to myself to become speedily acquainted with the whole history of the people in the boat. after looking on the picture till every mark and line in it were familiar to me, i turned over various leaves till i came to another engraving; a new source of wonder--a low sandy beach on which the furious sea was breaking in mountain-like billows; cloud and rack deformed the firmament, which wore a dull and leaden-like hue; gulls and other aquatic fowls were toppling upon the blast, or skimming over the tops of the maddening waves--'mercy upon him! he must be drowned!' i exclaimed, as my eyes fell upon a poor wretch who appeared to be striving to reach the shore; he was upon his legs, but was evidently half smothered with the brine; high above his head curled a horrible billow, as if to engulf him for ever. 'he must be drowned! he must be drowned!' i almost shrieked, and dropped the book. i soon snatched it up again, and now my eye lighted on a third picture; again a shore, but what a sweet and lovely one, and how i wished to be treading it; there were beautiful shells lying on the smooth white sand, some were empty like those i had occasionally seen on marble mantelpieces, but out of others peered the heads and bodies of wondrous crayfish; a wood of thick green trees skirted the beach and partly shaded it from the rays of the sun, which shone hot above, while blue waves slightly crested with foam were gently curling against it; there was a human figure upon the beach, wild and uncouth, clad in the skins of animals, with a huge cap on his head, a hatchet at his girdle, and in his hand a gun; his feet and legs were bare; he stood in an attitude of horror and surprise; his body was bent far back, and his eyes, which seemed starting out of his head, were fixed upon a mark on the sand--a large distinct mark--a human footprint! "reader, is it necessary to name the book which now stood open in my hand, and whose very prints, feeble expounders of its wondrous lines, had produced within me emotions strange and novel? scarcely, for it was a book which has exerted over the minds of englishmen an influence certainly greater than any other of modern times, which has been in most people's hands, and with the contents of which even those who cannot read are to a certain extent acquainted; a book from which the most luxuriant and fertile of our modern prose writers have drunk inspiration; a book, moreover, to which, from the hardy deeds which it narrates, and the spirit of strange and romantic enterprise which it tends to awaken, england owes many of her astonishing discoveries both by sea and land, and no inconsiderable part of her naval glory. "hail to thee, spirit of de foe! what does not my own poor self owe to thee? england has better bards than either greece or rome, yet i could spare them easier far than de foe, 'unabashed de foe,' as the hunchbacked rhymer styled him." it was in this manner, he declares, that he "first took to the paths of knowledge," and when he began his own "autobiography" he must have well remembered the opening of "robinson crusoe":--"i was born in the year , in the city of york, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of bremen, named kreutznaer, who first settled at hull," though borrow himself would have written it: "i was born in the year ---, in the city of y---, of a good family, though not of that country, my father being a foreigner of bremen, named kruschen, who first settled at h---." probably he remembered also that other fictitious autobiography of defoe's, "the adventures of captain singleton," of the child who was stolen and disposed of to a gypsy and lived with his good gypsy mother until she happened to be hanged, a little too soon for him to be "perfected in the strolling trade." defoe had told him long before richard ford that he need not be afraid of being low. he could always give the same excuse as defoe in "moll flanders"--"as the best use is to be made even of the worst story, the moral, 'tis hoped, will keep the reader serious, even where the story might incline him to be otherwise." in fact, borrow did afterwards claim that his book set forth in as striking a way as any "the kindness and providence of god." even so, de quincey suggested as an excuse in his "confessions" the service possibly to be rendered to other opium-eaters. borrow tells us in the twenty-second chapter of "lavengro" how he sought for other books of adventure like "robinson crusoe"--which he will not mention by name!--and how he read many "books of singular power, but of coarse and prurient imagination." one of these, "the english rogue," he describes as a book "written by a remarkable genius." he might have remembered in its preface the author lamenting that, though it was meant for the life of a "witty extravagant," readers would regard it as the author's own life, "and notwithstanding all that hath been said to the contrary many still continue in this belief." he might also have remembered that the apology for portraying so much vice was that the ugliness of it--"her _vizard-mask_ being remov'd"--"cannot but cause in her (_quondam_) adorers, a _loathing_ instead of _loving_." the dirty hero runs away as a boy and on the very first day tires of nuts and blackberries and longs "to taste of the _fleshpots_ again." he sleeps in a barn until he is waked, pursued and caught by gypsies. he agrees to stay with them, and they have a debauch of eating, drinking and fornication, which makes him well content to join the "ragged regiment." they colour his face with walnut juice so that he looks a "true son of an egyptian." hundreds of pages are filled thereafter by tediously dragging in, mostly from other books, joyless and leering adventures of low dishonesty and low lust. another book of the kind which borrow knew was the life of bamfylde moore-carew, born in at a devonshire rectory. he hunted the deer with some of his schoolfellows from tiverton and they played truant for fear of punishment. they fell in with some gypsies feasting and carousing and asked to be allowed to "enlist into their company." the gypsies admitted them after the "requisite ceremonies" and "proper oaths." the philosophy of carew or his historian is worth noticing. he says of the gypsies: "there are perhaps no people so completely happy as they are, or enjoy so great a share of liberty. the king is elective by the whole people, but none are allowed to stand as candidates for that honour but such as have been long in their society, and perfectly studied the nature and institution of it; they must likewise have given repeated proofs of their personal wisdom, courage and capacity; this is better known as they always keep a public record or register of all remarkable (either good or bad) actions performed by any of their society, and they can have no temptation to make choice of any but the most worthy, as their king has no titles or legislative employments to bestow, which might influence or corrupt their judgments. "the laws of these people are few and simple, but most exactly and punctually observed; the fundamental of which is that strong love and mutual regard for each member in particular and for the whole community in general, which is inculcated into them from the earliest infancy. . . . experience has shown them that, by keeping up their nice sense of honour and shame, they are always enabled to keep their community in better order than the most severe corporal punishments have been able to effect in other governments. "but what has still more tended to preserve their happiness is that they know no other use of riches than the enjoyment of them. they know no other use of it than that of promoting mirth and good humour; for which end they generously bring their gains into a common stock, whereby they whose gains are small have an equal enjoyment with those whose profits are larger, excepting only that a mark or ignominy is affixed on those who do not contribute to the common stock proportionately to their abilities and the opportunities they have of gain, and this is the source of their uninterrupted happiness; fully this means they have no griping usurer to grind them, no lordly possessor to trample on them, nor any envyings to torment them; they have no settled habitations, but, like the scythian of old, remove from place to place, as often as their convenience or pleasure requires it, which render their life a perpetual source of the greatest variety. "by what we have said above, and much more that we could add of the happiness of these people and of their peculiar attachment to each other, we may account for what has been matter of much surprise to the friends of our hero, viz., his strong attachment, for the space of about forty years, to this community, and his refusing the large offers that have been made to quit their society." carew himself met with nothing but success in his various impersonations of tom o' bedlam, a rat-catcher, a non-juring clergyman, a shipwrecked quaker, and an aged woman with three orphan grandchildren. he was elected king of the beggars, and lost the dignity only by deliberate abdication. "the restraints of a town not suiting him after the free rambling life he had led, he took a house in the country, and having acquired some property on the decease of a relation, he was in a position to purchase a residence more suited to his taste, and lived for some years a quiet life 'respected best by those who knew him best.'" a very different literary hero of borrow's was william cobbett, in spite of his radical opinions. cobbett was a man who wrote, as it were, with his fist, not the tips of his fingers. when i begin to read him i think at once of a small country town where men talk loudly to one another at a distance or as they walk along in opposite directions, and the voices ring as their heels do on the cobbles. he is not a man of arguments, but of convictions. he is so full of convictions that, though not an indolent man, he has no time for arguments. "on this stiff ground," he says in north wiltshire, "they grow a good many beans and give them to the pigs with whey; which makes excellent pork for the _londoners_; but which must meet with a pretty hungry stomach to swallow it in hampshire." when he was being shouted down at lewes in , and someone moved that he should be put out of the room, he says: "i rose that they might see the man that they had to put out." the hand that holds the bridle holds the pen. the night after he has been hare-hunting--friday, november the sixteenth, , at old hall, in herefordshire--he writes down this note of it: "a whole day most delightfully passed a hare-hunting, with a pretty pack of hounds kept here by messrs. palmer. they put me upon a horse that seemed to have been made on purpose for me, strong, tall, gentle and bold; and that carried me either over or through every thing. i, who am just the weight of a four-bushel sack of good wheat, actually sat on her back from daylight in the morning to dusk (about nine hours) without once setting my foot on the ground. our ground was at orcop, a place about four miles distance from this place. we found a hare in a few minutes after throwing off; and, in the course of the day, we had to find four, and were never more than ten minutes in finding. a steep and naked ridge, lying between two flat valleys, having a mixture of pretty large fields and small woods, formed our ground. the hares crossed the ridge forward and backward, and gave us numerous views and very fine sport. i never rode on such steep ground before; and, really, in going up and down some of the craggy places, where the rain had washed the earth from the rocks, i did think, once or twice of my neck, and how sidmouth would like to see me. as to the _cruelty_, as some pretend, of this sport, that point i have, i think, settled, in one of the chapters of my 'year's residence in america.' as to the expense, a pack, even a full pack of harriers, like this, costs less than two bottles of wine a day with their inseparable concomitants. and as to the _time_ spent, hunting is inseparable from _early rising_; and, with habits of early rising, who ever wanted time for any business?" borrow could not resist this man's plain living and plain thinking, or his sentences that are like acts--like blows or strides. and if he had needed any encouragement in the expression of prejudices, cobbett offered it. the following, from "cottage economy," will serve as an example. it is from a chapter on "brewing":-- "the practice of tea drinking must render the frame feeble and unfit to encounter hard labour or severe weather, while, as i have shown, it deducts from the means of replenishing the belly and covering the back. hence succeeds a softness, an effeminacy, a seeking for the fireside, a lurking in the bed, and, in short, all the characteristics of idleness for which, in his case, real want of strength furnishes an apology. the tea drinking fills the public-house, makes the frequenting of it habitual, corrupts boys as soon as they are able to move from home, and does little less for the girls, to whom the gossip of the teatable is no bad preparatory school for the brothel. at the very least, it teaches them idleness. the everlasting dawdling about with the slops of the tea- tackle gives them a relish for nothing that requires strength and activity. when they go from home, they know how to do nothing that is useful, to brew, to bake, to make butter, to milk, to rear poultry; to do any earthly thing of use they are wholly unqualified. to shut poor young creatures up in manufactories is bad enough; but there at any rate they do something that is useful; whereas the girl that has been brought up merely to boil the teakettle, and to assist in the gossip inseparable from the practice, is a mere consumer of food, a pest to her employer, and a curse to her husband, if any man be so unfortunate as to fix his affections upon her. "but is it in the power of any man, any good labourer who has attained the age of fifty, to look back upon the last thirty years of his life, without cursing the day in which tea was introduced into england? where is there such a man who cannot trace to this cause a very considerable part of all the mortifications and sufferings of his life? when was he ever too late at his labour; when did he ever meet with a frown, with a turning off and with pauperism on that account, without being able to trace it to the teakettle? when reproached with lagging in the morning, the poor wretch tells you that he will make up for it by _working during his breakfast time_! i have heard this a hundred and a hundred times over. he was up time enough; but the teakettle kept him lolling and lounging at home; and now instead of sitting down to a breakfast upon bread, bacon and beer, which is to carry him on to the hour of dinner, he has to force his limbs along under the sweat of feebleness, and at dinner- time to swallow his dry bread, or slake his half-feverish thirst at the pump or the brook. to the wretched teakettle he has to return at night with legs hardly sufficient to maintain him; and then he makes his miserable progress towards that death which he finds ten or fifteen years sooner than he would have found it had he made his wife brew beer instead of making tea. if he now and then gladdens his heart with the drugs of the public-house, some quarrel, some accident, some illness is the probable consequence; to the affray abroad succeeds an affray at home; the mischievous example reaches the children, cramps them or scatters them, and misery for life is the consequence." as cobbett wrote against tea so was borrow to write against the pope. being a reading and a writing man who had set down all his most substantial adventures in earlier books, borrow, says mr. thomas seccombe, had no choice but "to interpret autobiography as 'autobiographiction.'" { } parts of the autobiography, he says, are "as accurate and veracious as john wesley's 'journal,' but the way in which the dingle ingredients" [in the stories of isopel berners, the postillion, and the man in black] "are mingled, and the extent to which lies--damned lies--or facts predominate, will always be a fascinating topic for literary conjecture." it must not be forgotten, however, that borrow never called the published book his autobiography. he did something like what i believe young writers often do; he described events in his own life with modifications for the purpose of concealment in some cases and of embellishment in others. if he had never labelled it an autobiography there would have been no mystery, and the conclusion of readers would be that most of it could not have been invented, but that the postillion's story, for example, is a short story written to embody some facts and some opinions, without any appearance of being the whole truth and nothing but the truth. if borrow made a set of letters to the bible society into a book like "gil blas," he could hardly do less--especially when he had been reminded of the fact--with his remoter adventures; and having taken out dates and names of persons and places he felt free. he produced his view of himself, as de quincey did in his "confessions of an english opium eater." this view was modified by his public reputation, by his too potent memory and the need for selection, by his artistic sense, and by his literary training. so far from suffering by the two elements, if they are to be separated, of fiction and autobiography, "lavengro" and "the romany rye" gain immensely. the autobiographical form--the use of the first person singular--is no mere device to attract an interest and belief as in "captain singleton" and a thousand novels. again and again we are made perfectly certain that the man could not have written otherwise. he is sounding his own depths, and out of mere shyness, at times, uses the transparent amateur trick of pretending that he was writing of someone else. years afterwards, when mr. watts-dunton asked him, "what is the real nature of autobiography?" he answered in questions: "is it a mere record of the incidents of a man's life? or is it a picture of the man himself--his character, his soul?" chapter vi--the biographer's material "lavengro" and "the romany rye" give borrow's character and soul by direct and indirect means. their truth and fiction produce a consistent picture which we feel to be true. dr. knapp has shown, where the facts are accessible, that borrow does not much neglect, mislay or pervert them. but neither dr. knapp nor anyone else has captured facts which would be of any significance had borrow told us nothing himself. some of the anecdotes lap a branch here and there; some disclose a little rotten wood or fungus; others show the might of a great limb, perhaps a knotty protuberance with a grotesque likeness, or the height of the whole; others again are like clumsy arrogant initials carved on the venerable bark. i shall use some of them, but for the most part i shall use borrow's own brush both to portray and to correct. chapter vii--portraits of the artist the five works of borrow's maturity--from "the zincali: or the gypsies of spain," written when he had turned thirty, to "wild wales," written when he had turned fifty--have this in common, and perhaps for their chief quality, that of set purpose and by inevitable accident they reveal borrow, the body and the spirit of the man. together they compose a portrait, if not a small gallery of portraits. of these the most deliberate is the one that emerges from "lavengro" and "the romany rye." in these books, written after he had passed forty, he described the first twenty-two years of his life, without, so far as is known, using any notebooks or other contemporary documents. as i have said before, the literal accuracy of such a description must have been limited by his power and his willingness to see things as they were. in some ways there is no greater stranger to the youth of twenty than the man of forty who was once that youth, and if he overcomes that strangeness it is often by the perilous process of concealing the strangeness and the difference. the result is--or is it an individual misfortune of mine?--that the figure of "lavengro" seems to me, more often than not, and on the whole, to be nearer the age of forty than of twenty. the artist, that is to say, dominates his subject, the tall overgrown youth of twenty-two, as grey as a badger. it is very different in "the bible in spain," where artist and subject are equally matched, and both mature. in "lavengro" there is a roundabout method, a painful poring subtlety and minuteness, a marvellous combination of sterne and defoe, resulting in something very little like any book written by either man: in "the bible in spain" a straightforward, confident, unqualified revelation that seems almost unconsidered. chapter viii--childhood and now for some raw bones of the life of a man who was born in and died in , bones picked white and dry by the winds of thirty, forty, fifty, and a hundred years. thomas borrow, his father, an eighth and youngest son, was born in of a yeoman family long and still settled in cornwall, near liskeard. he worked for some time on his brother's farm. at nineteen he joined the militia and was apprenticed to a maltster, but, having knocked his master down in a free fight at menheniot fair in , disappeared and enlisted as a private in the coldstream guards. he was then a man of fresh complexion and light brown hair, just under five feet eight inches in height. he was a sergeant when he was transferred nine years later to the west norfolk regiment of militia. in he was promoted to the office of adjutant with the rank of captain. in he had married ann perfrement, a tenant farmer's daughter from east dereham, and probably of french protestant descent, whom he had first met when she was playing a minor part as an amateur at east dereham with a company from the theatre royal at norwich. she had, says borrow, dark brilliant eyes, oval face, olive complexion, and grecian forehead. the first child of this marriage, john thomas, was born in . borrow describes this elder brother as a beautiful child of "rosy, angelic face, blue eyes and light chestnut hair," yet of "not exactly an anglo-saxon countenance," having something of "the celtic character, particularly in the fire and vivacity which illumined it." john was his father's favourite. he entered the army and became a lieutenant, but also, and especially after the end of the war, a painter, studying under b. r. haydon and old crome. he went out to mexico in the service of a mining company in , and died there in . george borrow was born in at another station of the regiment, east dereham. he calls himself a gloomy child, a "lover of nooks and retired corners . . . sitting for hours together with my head on my breast . . . conscious of a peculiar heaviness within me, and at times of a strange sensation of fear, which occasionally amounted to horror, and for which i could assign no real cause whatever." a maidservant thought him a little wrong in the head, but a jew pedlar rebuked her for saying so, and said the child had "all the look of one of our people's children," and praised his bright eyes. with the regiment he travelled along the sussex and kent coast during the next four years. they were at pett in , and there he tells us that he first handled a viper, fearless and unharmed. in also they were at hythe, where he saw the skulls of the danes. they were at canterbury in , and near there was the scene of his eating the "green, red, and purple" berries from the hedge and suffering convulsions. they were, says dr. knapp, from the regimental records, never at winchester, but at winchelsea. in and they were back at dereham, which was then the home of eleanor fenn, his "lady bountiful," widow of the editor of the "paston letters," sir john fenn. he had "increased rapidly in size and in strength," but not in mind, and could read only imperfectly until "robinson crusoe" drew him out. he went to church twice on sundays, and never heard god's name without a tremor, "for i now knew that god was an awful and inscrutable being, the maker of all things; that we were his children, and that we, by our sins, had justly offended him; that we were in very great peril from his anger, not so much in this life as in another and far stranger state of being yet to come; that we had a saviour withal to whom it was necessary to look for help: upon this point, however, i was yet very much in the dark, as, indeed, were most of those with whom i was connected. the power and terrors of god were uppermost in my thoughts; they fascinated though they astounded me." {picture: borrow's birth-place, east dereham, norfolk. photo: h. t. cave, east dereham: page .jpg} later in he was at norman cross, in huntingdonshire, and was free to wander alone by whittlesea mere. there he met the old viper-hunter and herbalist, into whose mouth he puts the tale of the king of the vipers. there he met the gypsies. he answered their threats with a viper that had lain hid in his breast; they called him "sapengro, a chap who catches snakes and plays tricks with them." he was sworn brother to jasper, the son, who despised him for being puny. the borrows were at dereham again in , and george went to school "for the acquisition of latin," and learnt the whole of lilly's grammar by heart. other marches of the regiment left him time to wonder at that "stupendous erection, the aqueduct at stockport"--to visit durham and "a capital old inn" there, where he had "a capital dinner off roast durham beef, and a capital glass of ale, which i believe was the cause of my being ever after fond of ale"--so he told the durham miner whom he met on his way to the devil's bridge, in cardiganshire--and to attend school at huddersfield in and at edinburgh in and . he mentions the frequent fights at the high school and the pitched battles between the old and the new town. climbing the castle rock was his favourite diversion, and on one "horrible edge" he came upon david haggart sitting and thinking of william wallace: "and why were ye thinking of him?" borrow says that he asked the lad. "the english hanged him long since, as i have heard say." "i was thinking," he answered, "that i should wish to be like him." "do ye mean," borrow says that he said, "that ye would wish to be hanged?" this youth was a drummer boy in captain borrow's regiment. borrow describes him upsetting the new town champion in one of the bickers. seven years later he was condemned to death at edinburgh, and to earn a little money for his mother he dictated an account of his life to the prison chaplain before he died. it was published in with the title: "the life of david haggart, alias john wilson, alias john morison, alias barney m'coul, alias john m'colgan, alias david o'brien, alias the switcher. written by himself, while under sentence of death." it is worth reading, notable in itself and for its style. he was a gamekeeper's son, and being a merry boy was liberally tipped by sportsmen. yet he ran away from home at the age of ten. one of his first exploits was the stealing of a bantam cock. it belonged to a woman at the back of the new town of edinburgh, says he, and he took a great fancy to it, "for it was a real beauty and i offered to _buy_, but mistress would not _sell_, so i got another cock, and set the two a fighting, and then off with my prize." this is like mr. w. b. yeats' paddy cockfight in "where there is nothing"; he got a fighting cock from a man below mullingar--"the first day i saw him i fastened my eyes on him, he preyed on my mind, and next night if i didn't go back every foot of nine miles to put him in my bag." when he was twelve he got drunk at the leith races and enlisted in the norfolk militia, which had a recruiting party for patriots at the races. "i learned," he says, "to beat the drum very well in the course of three months, and afterwards made considerable progress in blowing the bugle-horn. i liked the red coat and the soldiering well enough for a while, but soon tired. we were too much confined, and there was too little pay for me;" and so he got his discharge. "the restraining influences of military discipline," says dr. knapp, "gradually wore away." he went back to school even, but in vain. he was "never happier in his life" than when he "fingered all this money"-- pounds acquired by theft. he worked at his trade of thieving in many parts of scotland and ireland. as early as he was sentenced to death, but escaped, and, being recognised by a policeman, killed him and got clear away. he served one or two sentences and escaped from another. he escaped a third time, with a friend, after hitting the gaoler in such a manner that he afterwards died. the friend was caught at once, but david ran well--"never did a fox double the hounds in better style"--and got away in woman's clothes. as he was resting in a haystack after his run of ten miles in an hour, he heard a woman ask "if that lad was taken that had broken out of dumfries gaol," and the answer: "no; but the gaoler died last night at ten o'clock." he got arrested in ireland through sheer carelessness, was recognised and taken in irons to dumfries again--and so he died. in and borrow was for a time at the grammar school at norwich, but sailed with the regiment "in the autumn of the year " for ireland. "on the eighth day of our voyage," he says, "we were in sight of ireland. the weather was now calm and serene, the sun shone brightly on the sea and on certain green hills in the distance, on which i descried what at first sight i believed to be two ladies gathering flowers, which, however, on our near approach, proved to be two tall white towers, doubtless built for some purpose or other, though i did not learn for what." he was at "the protestant academy" at clonmel, and "read the latin tongue and the greek letters with a nice old clergyman." from a schoolfellow he learnt something of the irish tongue in exchange for a pack of cards. school, he says, had helped him to cast aside, in a great degree, his unsocial habits and natural reserve, and when he moved to templemore, where there was no school, he roamed about the wild country, "sometimes entering the cabins of the peasantry with a 'god's blessing upon you good people!'" here, as in scotland, he seems to have done as he liked. his father had other things to do than look after the child whom he was later on to upbraid for growing up in a displeasing way. ireland made a strong impression upon the boy, if we may judge from his writing about it when he looked back on those days. he recalls, in "wild wales," hearing the glorious tune of "croppies lie down" in the barrack yard at clonmel. again and again he recalls murtagh, the wild irish boy who taught him irish for a pack of cards. in ireland he learnt to be "a frank rider" without a saddle, and had awakened in him his "passion for the equine race": and here he had his cob shoed by a "fairy smith" who first roused the animal to a frenzy by uttering a strange word "in a sharp pungent tone," and then calmed it by another word "in a voice singularly modified but sweet and almost plaintive." above all there is a mystery which might easily be called celtic about his memories of ireland, due chiefly to something in his own blood, but also to the irish atmosphere which evoked that something in its perfection. after less than a year in ireland the regiment was back at norwich, and war being at an end, the men were mustered out in . {picture: borrow's court, norwich. photo: jarrold & sons, norwich: page .jpg} chapter ix--schooldays the borrows now settled at norwich in what was then king's court and is now borrow's court, off willow lane. george borrow, therefore, again attended the grammar school of norwich. he could then, he says, read greek. his father's dissatisfaction was apparently due to some instinctive antipathy for the child, who had neither his hair nor his eyes, but was "absolutely swarthy, god forgive me! i had almost said like that of a gypsy." as in scotland and ireland, so now at norwich, captain borrow probably let the boy do what he liked. as for mrs. borrow, perhaps she favoured the boy, who took after her in eyes and complexion, if not also in temperament. her influence was of an unconscious kind, strengthening her prenatal influence; unlike her husband, she had no doubt that "providence" would take care of the boy. borrow, at least, thought her like himself. in a suppressed portion of the twentieth chapter of "lavengo" he makes his parents talk together in the garden, and the mother having a story to tell suggests their going in because it is growing dark. the father says that a tale of terror is the better for being told in the dark, and hopes she is not afraid. the mother scoffs at the mention of fear, and yet, she says, she feels a thrill as if something were casting a cold shadow on her. she wonders if this feeling is like the indescribable fear, "which he calls the shadow," which sometimes attacks her younger child. "never mind the child or his shadow," says the father, and bids her go on. and from what follows the mother has evidently told the story before to her son. this dialogue may very well express the contrast between husband and wife and their attitudes towards their younger son. borrow very eloquently addresses his father as "a noble specimen of those strong single-minded englishmen, who, without making a parade either of religion or loyalty, feared god and honoured their king, and were not particularly friendly to the french," and as a pugilist who almost vanquished the famous ben bryan; but he does not conceal the fact that he was "so little to thee that thou understoodst me not." at norwich grammar school borrow had as schoolfellows james martineau and james brooke, afterwards rajah of sarawak. the headmaster was one edward valpy, who thrashed borrow, and there is nothing more to be said. the boy was fond of study but not of school. "for want of something better to do," he taught himself some french and italian, but wished he had a master. a master was found in a french _emigre_, the rev. thomas d'eterville, who gave private lessons to borrow, among others, in french, italian and spanish. his other teachers were an old musket with which he shot bullfinches, blackbirds and linnets, a fishing rod with which he haunted the yare, and the sporting gent, john thurtell, who taught him to box and accustomed him to pugilism. something is known of thurtell apart from borrow. he was the son of a man who was afterwards mayor of norwich. he had been a soldier and he was now in business. he arranged prize fights and boxed himself. he afterwards murdered a man who had dishonestly relieved him of pounds at gambling, and he was executed for the offence at hertford in . the trial was celebrated. it was there that a "respectable" man was defined by a witness as one who "kept a gig." the trial was included in the "celebrated trials and remarkable cases of criminal jurisprudence" which borrow compiled in ; and borrow may have written this description of the accused: "thurtell was dressed in a plum-coloured frock coat, with a drab waistcoat and gilt buttons, and white corded breeches. his neck had a black stock on, which fitted as usual stiffly up to the bottom of the cheek and end of the chin, and which therefore pushed forward the flesh on this part of the face so as to give an additionally sullen weight to the countenance. the lower part of the face was unusually large, muscular and heavy, and appeared to hang like a load to the head, and to make it drop like the mastiff's jowl. the upper lip was long and large, and the mouth had a severe and dogged appearance. his nose was rather small for such a face, but it was not badly shaped; his eyes, too, were small and buried deep under his protruding forehead, so indeed as to defy detection of their colour. the forehead was extremely strong, bony and knotted--and the eyebrows were forcibly marked though irregular--that over the right eye being nearly straight and that on the left turning up to a point so as to give a very painful expression to the whole face. his hair was of a good lightish brown, and not worn after any fashion. his frame was exceedingly well knit and athletic." an eye witness reports that seven hours before his execution, thurtell said: "it is perhaps wrong in my situation, but i own i should like to read pierce egan's account of the great fight yesterday" (meaning that between spring and langan). he slept well through his last night, and said: "i have dreamt many odd things, but i never dreamt anything about _this business_ since i have been in hertford." pierce egan described the trial and execution, and how thurtell bowed in a friendly and dignified manner to someone--"we believe, mr. pierce egan"--in the crowd about the gallows. pierce egan did not mention the sound of his cracking neck, but borrow is reported to have said it was a shame to hang such a man as thurtell: "why, when his neck broke it went off like a pistol." thurtell is the second of borrow's friends who preceded him in fame. during his school days under valpy, borrow met his sworn brother again--the gypsy petulengro. he places this meeting at the tombland fair at norwich, and dr. knapp fixes it, precisely, on march , . according to borrow's account, which is the only one, he was shadowed and then greeted by jasper petulengro. they went together to the gypsy encampment on household heath, and they were together there often again, in spite of the hostility of one gypsy, mrs. herne, to borrow. he says that he went with them to fairs and markets and learnt their language in spite of mrs. herne, so that they called him lav-engro, or word master. the mighty tawno chikno also called him cooro-mengro, because of his mastery with the fist. he was then sixteen. he is said to have stained his face to darken it further, and to have been asked by valpy: "is that jaundice or only dirt, borrow?" chapter x--leaving school with so much liberty borrow desired more. he played truant and, as we have seen, was thrashed for it. he was soon to leave school for good, though there is nothing to prove that he left on account of this escapade, or that the thrashing produced the "symptoms of a rapid decline," with a failure of strength and appetite, which he speaks of in the eighteenth chapter of "lavengro," after the gypsies had gone away. he was almost given over by the physicians, he tells us, but cured by an "ancient female, a kind of doctress," with a decoction of "a bitter root which grows on commons and desolate places." an attack of "the dark feeling of mysterious dread" came with convalescence. but "never during any portion of my life did time flow on more speedily," he says, than during the next two or three years. after some hesitation between church and law, he was articled in to messrs. simpson and rackham, solicitors, of tuck's court, st. giles', norwich, and he lived with simpson in the upper close. as a friend said, the law was an excellent profession for those who never intend to follow it. as borrow himself said, "i have ever loved to be as explicit as possible; on which account, perhaps, i never attained to any proficiency in the law." borrow sat faithfully at his desk and learned a good deal of welsh, danish, hebrew, arabic, gaelic, and armenian, making translations from these languages in prose and verse. in "wild wales" he recalls translating danish poems "over the desk of his ancient master, the gentleman solicitor of east anglia," and learning welsh by reading a welsh "paradise lost" side by side with the original, and by having lessons on sunday afternoons at his father's house from a groom named lloyd. his chief master was william taylor, the "anglo-germanist" of "lavengro." taylor was born in . he studied in germany as a youth and returned to england with a great enthusiasm for german literature. he translated goethe's "iphigenia" ( ), lessing's "nathan" ( ), wieland's "dialogues of the gods," etc. ( ); he published "tales of yore," translated from several languages, and a "letter concerning the two first chapters of luke," in , "english synonyms discriminated" in , and an "historical survey of german poetry," interspersed with various translations, in - . he was bred among unitarians, read hume, voltaire and rousseau, disliked the church, and welcomed the french revolution, though he was no friend to "the cause of national ambition and aggrandisement." he belonged to a revolution society at norwich, and in wrote from paris calling the national assembly "that well-head of philosophical legislation, whose pure streams are now overflowing the fairest country upon earth and will soon be sluiced off into the other realms of europe, fertilising all with the living energy of its waters." in he and his father withdrew their capital from manufacture and william taylor devoted himself to literature. hazlitt speaks of the "style of philosophical criticism which has been the boast of the 'edinburgh review,'" as first introduced into the "monthly review" by taylor in . scott said that taylor's translation of burger's "lenore" made him a poet. sir james mackintosh learned the taylorian language for the sake of the man's "vigour and originality"--"as the hebrew is studied for one book, so is the taylorian by me for one author." {picture: william taylor, of norwich: page .jpg} i will give a few hints at the nature of his speculation. in one of his letters he speaks of stumbling on "the new hypothesis that the nebuchadnezzar of scripture is the cyrus of greek history," and second, that "david, the jew, a favourite of this prince, wrote all those oracles scattered in isaiah, jeremiah and ezekiel relative to his enterprises, for the particularisation of which they afford ample materials." writing of his analysis, in the "critical review," of paulus' commentary on the new testament, he blames the editor for a suppression--"an attempt to prove, from the first and second chapter of luke, that zacharias, who wrote these chapters, meant to hold himself out as the father of jesus christ as well as of john the baptist. the jewish idea of being conceived of the holy ghost did not exclude the idea of human parentage. the rabbinical commentator on genesis explains this." he was called "godless billy taylor," but says he: "when i publish my other pamphlet in proof of the great truth that jesus christ wrote the 'wisdom' and translated the 'ecclesiasticus' from the hebrew of his grandfather hillel, you will be convinced (that i am convinced) that i and i alone am a precise and classical christian; the only man alive who thinks concerning the person and doctrines of christ what he himself thought and taught." his "letter concerning the two first chapters of luke" has the further title, "who was the father of christ?" he calls "not absolutely indefensible" the opinion of the anonymous german author of the "natural history of jesus of nazareth," that joseph of arimathaea was the father of jesus christ. he mentions that "a more recent anonymous theorist, with greater plausibility, imagines that the acolytes employed in the temple of jerusalem were called by the names of angels, michael, raphael, gabriel, accordingly as they were stationed behind, beside, or before, the mercy-seat; and that the gabriel of the temple found means to impose on the innocence of the virgin." "this," he says, "is in many ways compatible with mary's having faithfully given the testimony put together by luke." he gives at great length the arguments in favour of zacharias as the father, and tells josephus' story of mundus and paulina. { } norwich was then "a little academe among provincial cities," as mr. seccombe calls it; he continues: "among the high lights of the illuminated capital of east anglia were the cromes, the opies, john sell cotman, elizabeth fry, dr. william enfield (of speaker fame), and dr. rigby, the father of lady eastlake; but pre- eminent above all reigned the twin cliques of taylors and martineaus, who amalgamated at impressive intervals for purposes of mutual elevation and refinement. "the salon of susannah taylor, the mother of sarah austin, the wife of john taylor, hymn writer and deacon of the seminal chapel, the once noted octagon, in norwich, included in its zenith sir james mackintosh, mrs. barbauld, crabb robinson, the solemn dr. john alderson, amelia opie, henry reeve of edinburgh fame, basil montagu, the sewards, the quaker gurneys of earlham, and dr. frank sayers, whom the german critics compared to gray, who had handled the norse mythology in poetry, to which borrow was introduced by sayer's private biographer, the eminent and aforesaid william taylor" [no relation of _the_ "taylors of norwich"] "whose 'jail-delivery of german studies' the jealous thomas carlyle stigmatized in as the work of a natural-born english philistine." nevertheless, in spite of _the_ taylors and the martineaus, says william taylor's biographer, robberds: "the love of society almost necessarily produces the habit of indulging in the pleasures of the table; and, though he cannot be charged with having carried this to an immoderate excess, still the daily repetition of it had taxed too much the powers of nature and exhausted them before the usual period." taylor died in and was remembered best for his drinking and for his bloated appearance. harriet martineau wrote of him in her autobiography: "william taylor was managed by a regular process, first of feeding, then of wine-bibbing, and immediately after of poking to make him talk: and then came his sayings, devoured by the gentlemen and making ladies and children aghast;--defences of suicide, avowals that snuff alone had rescued him from it: information given as certain that 'god save the king' was sung by jeremiah in the temple of solomon,--that christ was watched on the day of his supposed ascension, and observed to hide himself till dark, and then to make his way down the other side of the mountain; and other such plagiarisms from the german rationalists. when william taylor began with 'i firmly believe,' we knew that something particularly incredible was coming. . . . his virtues as a son were before our eyes when we witnessed his endurance of his father's brutality of temper and manners, and his watchfulness in ministering to the old man's comfort in his infirmities. when we saw, on a sunday morning, william taylor guiding his blind mother to chapel, and getting her there with her shoes as clean as if she had crossed no gutters in those flint- paved streets, we could forgive anything that had shocked or disgusted us at the dinner table. but matters grew worse in his old age, when his habits of intemperance kept him out of the sight of the ladies, and he got round him a set of ignorant and conceited young men, who thought they could set the world right by their destructive tendencies. one of his chief favourites was george borrow. . . ." another of "the harum-scarum young men" taken up by taylor and introduced "into the best society the place afforded," writes harriet martineau, was polidori. borrow was introduced to taylor in by "mousha," the jew who taught him hebrew. taylor "took a great interest" in him and taught him german. "what i tell borrow _once_," he said, "he ever remembers." in taylor wrote to southey, who was an early friend: "a norwich young man is construing with me schiller's 'wilhelm tell,' with the view of translating it for the press. his name is george henry borrow, and he has learnt german with extraordinary rapidity; indeed he has the gift of tongues, and, though not yet eighteen, understands twelve languages--english, welsh, erse, latin, greek, hebrew, german, danish, french, italian, spanish and portuguese; he would like to get into the office for foreign affairs, but does not know how." borrow was at that time a "reserved and solitary" youth, tall, spare, dark complexioned and usually dressed in black, who used to be seen hanging about the close and talking through the railings of his garden to some of the grammar school boys. he was a noticeable youth, and he told his father that a lady had painted him and compared his face to that of alfieri's saul. {picture: tuck's court, norwich. photo: jarrold & sons, norwich: page .jpg} borrow pleased neither his master nor his father by his knowledge of languages, though it was largely acquired in the lawyer's office. "the lad is too independent by half," borrow makes his father say, after painting a filial portrait of the old man, "with locks of silver gray which set off so nobly his fine bold but benevolent face, his faithful consort at his side, and his trusty dog at his feet." nor did the youth please himself. he was languid again, tired even of the welsh poet, ab gwilym. he was anxious about his father, who was low spirited over his elder son's absence in london as a painter, and over his younger son's misconduct and the "strange notions and doctrines"--especially the doctrine that everyone has a right to dispose as he thinks best of that which is his own, even of his life--which he had imbibed from taylor. taylor was "fond of getting hold of young men and, according to orthodox accounts, doing them a deal of harm." { a} his views, says dr. knapp, sank deep "into the organism of his pupil," and "would only be eradicated, if at all, through much suffering." dr. knapp thought that the execution of thurtell ought to have produced a "favourable change in his mode of thinking"--as if prize fighting and murder were not far more common among christians than atheists. but if borrow had never met taylor he would have met someone else, atheist or religious enthusiast, who would have lured him from the straight, smooth, flowery path of orthodoxy; otherwise he might have been a clergyman or he might have been dr. knapp, but he would not have been george borrow. "what is truth?" he asked. "would that i had never been born!" he said to himself. and it was an open air ranter, not a clergyman or unobtrusive godly man, that made him exclaim: "would that my life had been like his--even like that man's." then the gypsy reminded him of "the wind on the heath" and the boxing gloves. when his father asked borrow what he proposed to do, { b} seeing that he was likely to do nothing at law, he had nothing to suggest. southey apparently could not help him to the foreign office. the only opening that can have seemed possible to him was literature. he might, for example, produce a volume of translations like the "specimen of russian poets" ( ) of john bowring, whom he met at taylor's. bowring, a man of twenty-nine in , was the head of a commercial firm and afterwards a friend of borrow and the author of many translations from russian, dutch, spanish, polish, servian, hungarian and bohemian song. he was, as the "old radical" of "the romany rye," borrow's victim in his lifetime, and after his death the victim of dr. knapp as the supposed false friend of his hero. the mud thrown at him had long since dried, and has now been brushed off in a satisfactory manner by mr. r. a. j. walling. { } {picture: tom shelton, jack randall: page .jpg} chapter xi--literature and languages when borrow was in his nineteenth year--according to dr. knapp's estimate--he told his father what he had done: "i have learned welsh, and have translated the songs of ab gwilym, some ten thousand lines, into english rhyme. i have also learnt danish, and have rendered the old book of ballads into english metre. i have learned many other tongues, and have acquired some knowledge even of hebrew and arabic." he read and conversed with william taylor; he read alone in the guildhall of norwich, where the corporation library offered him the books from which he gained "his knowledge of anglo-saxon and early english, welsh or british, northern or scandinavian learning"--so writes dr. knapp, who has seen the "neat young pencilled notes" of borrow in edmund lhuyd's 'archaeologia britannica' and the 'danica literatura antiquissima' of olaus wormius, etc. he tells us himself that he passed entire nights in reading an old danish book, till he was almost blind. in borrow began to publish his translations. taylor introduced him to thomas campbell, then editor of the "new monthly," and to sir richard phillips, editor and proprietor of the "monthly magazine." both editors printed borrow's works. sir richard phillips was particularly flattering: he used borrow's article on "danish poetry and ballad writing" and about six hundred lines of translation from german, danish, swedish and dutch poetry in the first year of the connection, usually with the signature, "george olaus borrow." i will quote only one specimen, his version of goethe's "erl king" ("monthly magazine," december, ): who is it that gallops so late on the wild! o it is the father that carries his child! he presses him close in his circling arm, to save him from cold, and to shield him from harm. "dear baby, what makes ye your countenance hide?" "spur, father, your courser and rowel his side; the erl-king is chasing us over the heath;" "peace, baby, thou seest a vapoury wreath?" "dear boy, come with me, and i'll join in your sport, and show ye the place where the fairies resort; my mother, who dwells in the cool pleasant mine shall clothe thee in garments so fair and so fine." "my father, my father, in mercy attend, and hear what is said by the whispering fiend." "be quiet, be quiet, my dearly-loved child; 'tis naught but the wind as it stirs in the wild." "dear baby, if thou wilt but venture with me, my daughter shall dandle thy form on her knee; my daughter, who dwells where the moon-shadows play, shall lull ye to sleep with the song of the fay." "my father, my father, and seest thou not his sorceress daughter in yonder dark spot?" "i see something truly, thou dear little fool,-- i see the great alders that hang by the pool." "sweet baby, i doat on that beautiful form, and thou shalt ride with me the wings of the storm." "o father, my father, he grapples me now, and already has done me a mischief, i vow." the father was terrified, onward he press'd, and closer he cradled the child to his breast, and reach'd the far cottage, and, wild with alarm, he found that the baby hung dead on his arm! the only criticism that need be passed on this is that any man of some intelligence and patience can hope to do as well: he seldom wrote any verse that was either much better or much worse. at the same time it must not be forgotten that the success of the translation is no measure of the impression made on the young borrow by the legend. his translations from ab gwilym are not interesting either to lovers of that poet or to lovers of borrow: some are preserved in a sort of life in death in the pages of "wild wales." from the german he had also translated f. m. von klinger's "faustus: his life, death and descent into hell." { a} the preface announces that "although scenes of vice and crime are here exhibited, it is merely in the hope that they may serve as beacons, to guide the ignorant and unwary from the shoals on which they might otherwise be wrecked." he insisted, furthermore, that the book contained "the highly useful advice," that everyone should bear their lot in patience and not seek "at the expense of his repose to penetrate into those secrets which the spirit of man, while dressed in the garb of mortality cannot and must not unveil. . . . to the mind of man all is dark; he is an enigma to himself; let him live, therefore, in the hope of once seeing clearly; and happy indeed is he who in that manner passeth his days." from the danish of johannes evald, he translated "the death of balder," a play, into blank verse with consistently feminine endings, as in this speech of thor to balder: { b} how long dost think, degenerate son of odin, unmanly pining for a foolish maiden, and all the weary train of love-sick follies, will move a bosom that is steel'd by virtue? thou dotest! dote and weep, in tears swim ever; but by thy father's arm, by odin's honour, haste, hide thy tears and thee in shades of alder! haste to the still, the peace-accustom'd valley, where lazy herdsmen dance amid the clover. there wet each leaf which soft the west wind kisses, each plant which breathes around voluptuous odours, with tears! there sigh and moan, and the tired peasant shall hear thee, and, behind his ploughshare resting, shall wonder at thy grief, and pity balder! there are lyrics interspersed. the following is sung by three valkyries marching round the cauldron before rota dips the fatal spear that she is to present to hother: in juice of rue and trefoil too; in marrow of bear and blood of trold, be cool'd the spear, threetimes cool'd, when hot from blazes which nastroud raises for valhall's may. st valk. whom it woundeth, it shall slay. nd whom it woundeth, it shall slay. rd whom it woundeth, it shall slay. in he was to publish "romantic ballads," translated from the gaelic, danish, norse, swedish, and german, with eight original pieces. he "hoped shortly" to publish a complete translation of the "kjaempe viser" and of gaelic songs, made by him "some years ago." few of these are valuable or interesting, but i must quote "svend vonved" because borrow himself so often refers to it. the legend haunted him of "that strange melancholy swayne vonved, who roams about the world propounding people riddles; slaying those who cannot answer, and rewarding those who can with golden bracelets." when he was walking alone in wild weather in cornwall he roared it aloud: svend vonved sits in his lonely bower; he strikes his harp with a hand of power; his harp returned a responsive din; then came his mother hurrying in: look out, look out, svend vonved. in came his mother adeline, and who was she, but a queen so fine: "now hark, svend vonved! out must thou ride and wage stout battle with knights of pride." look out, look out, svend vonved. "avenge thy father's untimely end; to me, or another, thy gold harp lend; this moment boune thee, and straight begone! i rede thee, do it, my own dear son." look out, look out, svend vonved. svend vonved binds his sword to his side; he fain will battle with knights of pride. "when may i look for thee once more here? when roast the heifer and spice the beer?" look out, look out, svend vonved. "when stones shall take, of themselves, a flight and ravens' feathers are waxen white, then may'st thou expect svend vonved home: in all my days, i will never come." look out, look out, svend vonved. if we did not know that borrow used these verses as a kind of incantation we should be sorry to have read them. but one of the original pieces in this book is as good in itself as it is interesting. i mean "lines to six-foot-three": a lad, who twenty tongues can talk, and sixty miles a day can walk; drink at a draught a pint of rum, and then be neither sick nor dumb; can tune a song, and make a verse, and deeds of northern kings rehearse; who never will forsake his friend, while he his bony fist can bend; and, though averse to brawl and strife, will fight a dutchman with a knife. o that is just the lad for me, and such is honest six-foot three. a braver being ne'er had birth since god first kneaded man from earth; o, i have come to know him well, as ferroe's blacken'd rocks can tell. who was it did, at suderoe, the deed no other dared to do? who was it, when the boff had burst, and whelm'd me in its womb accurst, who was it dashed amid the wave, with frantic zeal, my life to save? who was it flung the rope to me? o, who, but honest six-foot three! who was it taught my willing tongue, the songs that braga fram'd and sung? who was it op'd to me the store of dark unearthly runic lore, and taught me to beguile my time with denmark's aged and witching rhyme; to rest in thought in elvir shades, and hear the song of fairy maids; or climb the top of dovrefeld, where magic knights their muster held! who was it did all this for me? o, who, but honest six-foot three! wherever fate shall bid me roam, far, far from social joy and home; 'mid burning afric's desert sands; or wild kamschatka's frozen lands; bit by the poison-loaded breeze or blasts which clog with ice the seas; in lowly cot or lordly hall, in beggar's rags or robes of pall, 'mong robber-bands or honest men, in crowded town or forest den, i never will unmindful be of what i owe to six-foot three. that form which moves with giant grace-- that wild, tho' not unhandsome face; that voice which sometimes in its tone is softer than the wood-dove's moan, at others, louder than the storm which beats the side of old cairn gorm; that hand, as white as falling snow, which yet can fell the stoutest foe; and, last of all, that noble heart, which ne'er from honour's path would start, shall never be forgot by me-- so farewell, honest six-foot three. this is already pure borrow, with a vigour excusing if not quite transmuting its rant. he creates a sort of hero in his own image, and it should be read as an introduction and invocation to "lavengro" and "the romany rye." it is one of the few contemporary records of borrow at about the age when he wrote "celebrated trials," made horse-shoes and fought the blazing tinman. so far as i know, it was more than ten years before he wrote anything so good again, and he never wrote anything better in verse, unless it is the song of the "genuine old english gentleman," in the twenty-fourth chapter of "lavengro": "give me the haunch of a buck to eat, and to drink madeira old, and a gentle wife to rest with, and in my arms to fold, an arabic book to study, a norfolk cob to ride, and a house to live in shaded with trees, and near to a river side; with such good things around me, and blessed with good health withal, though i should live for a hundred years, for death i would not call." the only other verse of his which can be remembered for any good reason is this song from the romany, included among the translations from thirty languages and dialects which he published, in , with the title of "targum," and the appropriate motto: "the raven has ascended to the nest of the nightingale." the gypsy verses are as follows: the strength of the ox, the wit of the fox, and the leveret's speed,-- full oft to oppose to their numerous foes, the rommany need. our horses they take, our waggons they break, and ourselves they seize, in their prisons to coop, where we pine and droop, for want of breeze. when the dead swallow the fly shall follow o'er burra-panee, then we will forget the wrongs we have met and forgiving be. it will not be necessary to say anything more about borrow's verses. poetry for him was above all declamatory sentiment or wild narrative, and so he never wrote, and perhaps never cared much for poetry, except ballads and his contemporary byron. he desired, as he said in the note to "romantic ballads," not the merely harmonious but the grand, and he condemned the modern muse for "the violent desire to be smooth and tuneful, forgetting that smoothness and tunefulness are nearly synonymous with tameness and unmeaningness." he once said of keats: "they are attempting to resuscitate him, i believe." he regarded wordsworth as a soporific merely. chapter xii--london early in , and just before george borrow's articles with the solicitors expired, captain borrow died. he left all that he had to his widow, with something for the maintenance and education of the younger son during his minority. borrow had already planned to go to london, to write, to abuse religion and to get himself prosecuted. a month later, the day after the expiration of his articles, before he had quite reached his majority, he went up to london. he was "cast upon the world" in no very hopeful condition. he had lately been laid up again--was it by the "fear" or something else?--by a complaint which destroyed his strength, impaired his understanding and threatened his life, as he wrote to a friend: he was taking mercury for a cure. but he had his translations from ab gwilym and his romantic ballads, and he believed in them. he took them to sir richard phillips, who did not believe in them, and had moreover given up publishing. according to his own account, which is very well known (lavengro, chapter xxx.), sir richard suggested that he should write something in the style of the "dairyman's daughter" instead. men of this generation, fortunate at least in this ignorance, probably think of the "dairyman's daughter" as a fictitious title, like the "oxford review" (which stood for "the universal review") and the "newgate lives" (which should have been "celebrated trials," etc.). but such a book really was published in . it was an "authentic narrative" by a clergyman of the church of england named legh richmond, who thought it "delightful to trace and discover the operations of divine love among the poorer classes of mankind." the book was about the conversion and holy life and early death of a pale, delicate, consumptive dairyman's daughter in the isle of wight. it became famous, was translated into many languages, and was reprinted by some misguided or malevolent man not long ago. i will give a specimen of the book which the writer of "six-foot- three" was asked to imitate: "travellers, as they pass through the country, usually stop to inquire whose are the splendid mansions which they discover among the woods and plains around them. the families, titles, fortune, or character of the respective owners, engage much attention. . . . in the meantime, the lowly cottage of the poor husbandman is passed by as scarcely deserving of notice. yet, perchance, such a cottage may often contain a treasure of infinitely more value than the sumptuous palace of the rich man; even "the pearl of great price." if this be set in the heart of the poor cottager, it proves a jewel of unspeakable value, and will shine among the brightest ornaments of the redeemer's crown, in that day when he maketh up his "jewels." {picture: sir richard phillips. (from the painting by james saxon in the national portrait gallery.) photo: emery walker: page .jpg} "hence, the christian traveller, while he bestows, in common with others, his due share of applause on the decorations of the rich, and is not insensible to the beauties and magnificence which are the lawfully allowed appendages of rank and fortune, cannot overlook the humbler dwelling of the poor. and if he should find that true piety and grace beneath the thatched roof, which he has in vain looked for amidst the worldly grandeur of the rich, he remembers the word of god. . . . he sees, with admiration, that 'the high and lofty one, that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is holy, who dwelleth in the high and holy place, dwelleth with _him also_ that is of a contrite and humble spirit,' isaiah lvii., ; and although heaven is his throne, and the earth his footstool, yet when a home is to be built, and a place of rest to be sought for himself, he says, 'to this man will i look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word,' isaiah lxvi., , . when a home is thus tenanted, faith beholds this inscription written on the walls, _the lord lives here_. faith, therefore, cannot pass it by unnoticed, but loves to lift up the latch of the door, and sit down, and converse with the poor, though perhaps despised, inhabitant. many a sweet interview does faith obtain when she thus takes her walks abroad. many such a sweet interview have i myself enjoyed beneath the roof where dwelt the dairyman and his little family. "i soon perceived that his daughter's health was rapidly on the decline. the pale, wasting consumption, which is the lord's instrument for removing so many thousands every year from the land of the living, made hasty strides on her constitution. the hollow eye, the distressing cough, and the often too flattering red on the cheek, foretold the approach of death. "i have often thought what a field for usefulness and affectionate attention, on the part of ministers and christian friends, is opened by the frequent attacks and lingering progress of _consumptive_ illness. how many such precious opportunities are daily lost, where providence seems in so marked a way to afford time and space for serious and godly instruction! of how many may it be said: 'the way of peace have they not known'; for not one friend ever came nigh to warn them to 'flee from the wrath to come.' "but the dairyman's daughter was happily made acquainted with the things which belonged to her everlasting peace before the present disease had taken root in her constitution. in my visits to her i might be said rather to receive information than to impart it. her mind was abundantly stored with divine truths, and her conversations truly edifying. the recollection of it still produces a thankful sensation in my heart." nevertheless, when borrow had bought a copy of this book he was willing to do what was asked, and to attempt also to translate into german phillips' "proximate causes of the material phenomena of the universe," or what the translator called "his tale of an apple and a pear." but phillips changed his mind about the "dairyman's daughter" and commissioned a compilation of "newgate lives and trials" instead. borrow failed with the translation of the "proximate causes" but liked very well the compiling of the "celebrated trials"--of joan of arc, cagliostro, mary queen of scots, raleigh, the gunpowder plotters, queen caroline, thurtell, the cato street conspirators, and many more--in six volumes. he also wrote reviews for phillips' magazine, and contributed more translations of poetry and many scraps of "danish traditions and superstitions," like the following: "at east hessing, in the district of calling, there was once a rural wedding; and when the morning was near at hand, the guests rushed out of the house with much noise and tumult. when they were putting their horses to the carts, in order to leave the place, each of them boasted and bragged of his bridal present. but when the uproar was at the highest, and they were all speaking together, a maiden dressed in green, and with a bulrush plaited over her head, came from a neighbouring morass, and going up to the fellow who was noisiest and bragged most of his bridal gift, she said, 'what will you give to lady boe?' the boor, who was half intoxicated from the brandy and ale he had swallowed, seized a whip, and answered, 'three strokes of my waggon-whip.' but at the same moment he fell a corpse to the ground." if translation like this is journeyman's work for the journeyman, for borrow it was of great value because it familiarised him with the marvellous and the supernatural and so helped him towards the expression of his own material and spiritual adventures. the wild and often other- worldly air of much of his work is doubtless due to his wild and other- worldly mind, but owes a considerable if uncertain debt to his reading of ballads and legends, which give a little to the substance of his work and far more to the tone of it. among other things translated at this time he mentions the "saga of burnt njal." he was not happy in london. he had few friends there, and perhaps those he had only disturbed without sweetening his solitude. one of these was a norwich friend, named roger kerrison, who shared lodgings with him at , millman street, bedford row. borrow confided in kerrison, and had written to him before leaving norwich in terms of perhaps unconsciously worked-up affection. but borrow's low spirits in london were more than kerrison could stand. when borrow was proposing a short visit to norwich his friend wrote to john thomas borrow, suggesting that he should keep his brother there for a time, or else return with him, for this reason. borrow had "repeatedly" threatened suicide, and unable to endure his fits of desperation kerrison had gone into separate lodgings: if his friend were to return in this state and find himself alone he would "again make some attempt to destroy himself." nothing was done, so far as is known, and he did not commit suicide. it is a curious commentary on the work of hack writers that this youth should have written as a note to his translation of "the suicide's grave," { } that it was not translated for its sentiments but for its poetry; "although the path of human life is rough and thorny, the mind may always receive consolation by looking forward to the world to come. the mind which rejects a future state has to thank itself for its utter misery and hopelessness." his malady was youth, aggravated, the food reformer would say, by eating fourteen pennyworth of bread and cheese at a meal, and certainly aggravated by literary ambition. judging from the thirty-first chapter of "lavengro," he was exceptionally sensitive at this time to all impressions--probably both pleasant and unpleasant. he describes himself on his first day gazing at the dome of st. paul's until his brain became dizzy, and he thought the dome would fall and crush him, and he shrank within himself, and struck yet deeper into the heart of the big city. he stood on london bridge dazed by the mighty motion of the waters and the multitude of men and "horses as large as elephants. there i stood, just above the principal arch, looking through the balustrade at the scene that presented itself--and such a scene! towards the left bank of the river, a forest of masts, thick and close, as far as the eye could reach; spacious wharfs, surmounted with gigantic edifices; and, far away, caesar's castle, with its white tower. to the right, another forest of masts, and a maze of buildings, from which, here and there, shot up to the sky chimneys taller than cleopatra's needle, vomiting forth huge wreaths of that black smoke which forms the canopy--occasionally a gorgeous one--of the more than babel city. stretching before me, the troubled breast of the mighty river, and, immediately below, the main whirlpool of the thames--the maelstrom of the bulwarks of the middle arch--a grisly pool, which, with its superabundance of horror, fascinated me. who knows but i should have leapt into its depths?--i have heard of such things--but for a rather startling occurrence which broke the spell. as i stood upon the bridge, gazing into the jaws of the pool, a small boat shot suddenly through the arch beneath my feet. there were three persons in it; an oarsman in the middle, whilst a man and woman sat at the stern. i shall never forget the thrill of horror which went through me at this sudden apparition. what!--a boat--a small boat--passing beneath that arch into yonder roaring gulf! yes, yes, down through that awful water-way, with more than the swiftness of an arrow, shot the boat, or skiff, right into the jaws of the pool. a monstrous breaker curls over the prow--there is no hope; the boat is swamped, and all drowned in that strangling vortex. no! the boat, which appeared to have the buoyancy of a feather, skipped over the threatening horror, and the next moment was out of danger, the boatman--a true boatman of cockaigne, that--elevating one of his skulls in sign of triumph, the man hallooing, and the woman, a true englishwoman that--of a certain class--waving her shawl. whether any one observed them save myself, or whether the feat was a common one, i know not; but nobody appeared to take any notice of them. as for myself, i was so excited, that i strove to clamber up the balustrade of the bridge, in order to obtain a better view of the daring adventurers. before i could accomplish my design, however, i felt myself seized by the body, and, turning my head, perceived the old fruit-woman, who was clinging to me." on this very day, in his account, he first met the "fiery, enthusiastic and open-hearted," pleasure-loving young irishman, whom he calls francis ardry, who took him to the theatre and to "the strange and eccentric places of london," and no doubt helped to give him the feeling of "a regular arabian nights' entertainment." c. g. leland { } tells a story told to him by one who might have been the original of ardry. the story is the only independent evidence of borrow's london life. this "old gentleman" had been in youth for a long time the most intimate friend of george borrow, who was, he said, a very wild and eccentric youth. "one night, when skylarking about london, borrow was pursued by the police, as he wished to be, even as panurge so planned as to be chased by the night- watch. he was very tall and strong in those days, a trained shoulder- hitter, and could run like a deer. he was hunted to the thames, and there they thought they had him. but the romany rye made for the edge, and leaping into the wan water, like the squyre in the old ballad, swam to the other side, and escaped." it is no wonder he "did not like reviewing at all," especially as he "never could understand why reviews were instituted; works of merit do not require to be reviewed, they can speak for themselves, and require no praising; works of no merit at all will die of themselves, they require no killing." he forgot "the dairyman's daughter," and he could not foresee the early fate of "lavengro" itself. he preferred manlier crime and riskier deception to reviewing. as he read over the tales of rogues, he says, he became again what he had been as a boy, a necessitarian, and could not "imagine how, taking all circumstances into consideration, these highwaymen, these pickpockets, should have been anything else than highwaymen and pickpockets." these were the days of such books as "the life and extraordinary adventures of samuel denmore hayward, denominated the modern macheath, who suffered at the old bailey, on tuesday, november , , for the crime of burglary," by pierce egan, embellished with a highly-finished miniature by mr. smart, etched by t. r. cruikshank; and a facsimile of his handwriting. london, ." it is a poor book, and now has descendants lower in the social scale. it pretends to give "a most awful but useful lesson to the rising generation" by an account of the criminal whose appearance as a boy "was so superior to other boys of his class in life as to have the look of a gentleman's child." he naturally became a waiter, and "though the situation did not exactly accord with his ambition, it answered his purpose, because it afforded him an opportunity of studying _character_, and being in the company of gentlemen." he was "a generous high-minded fellow towards the ladies," and became the fancy man of someone else's mistress, living "in the style of a gentleman _solely_ at the expense of the beautiful miss ---." his "unembarrassed and gentlemanly" behaviour survived even while he was being searched, and he entered the chapel before execution "with a firm step, accompanied with the most gentlemanly deportment." the end came nevertheless: "bowing to the sheriffs and the few persons around him with all the manners of an accomplished gentleman, he ascended the drop with a firmness that astonished everyone present; and resigned his eventful life without scarce a struggle." the moral was the obvious one. "his talents were his misfortunes." the biographer pretends to believe that, though the fellow lived in luxury, he must always have had a harassed mind; the truth being that he himself would have had a harassed mind if he had played so distinguished a part. "the chequered life of that young man," he says, "abounding with incidents and facts almost incredible, and scarcely ever before practised with so much art and delusion in so short a period, impressively points out the danger arising from the possession of _great talents_ when perverted or _misapplied_." he points out, furthermore, how vice sinks before virtue. "for instance, view the countenances of thieves, who are regaling themselves on the most expensive liquors, laughing and singing, how they are changed in an instant by the appearance of police officers entering a room in search of them. . . ." finally, "let the youth of london bear in mind that honesty is the best policy. . . . "in this happy country, where every individual has an opportunity of raising himself to the highest office in the state, what might the abilities of the unfortunate hayward have accomplished for him if he had not deviated from the paths of virtue? there is no place like london in the world where a man of talents meets with so much encouragement and liberality; his society is courted, and his presence gives a weight to any company in which he appears; if supported by a good character." but the crime was the thing. of a different class was john hamilton reynolds' "the fancy." this book, published in , would have wholly delighted borrow. i will quote the footnote to the "lines to philip samson, the brummagem youth": "of all the great men of this age, in poetry, philosophy, or pugilism, there is no one of such transcendent talent as randall;--no one who combines the finest natural powers with the most elegant and finished acquired ones. the late professor stewart (who has left the learned ring) is acknowledged to be clever in philosophy, but he is a left-handed metaphysical fighter at best, and cannot be relied upon at closing with his subject. lord byron is a powerful poet, with a mind weighing fourteen stone; but he is too sombre and bitter, and is apt to lose his temper. randall has no defect, or at best he has not yet betrayed the appearance of one. his figure is remarkable, when _peeled_, for its statue-like beauty, and nothing can equal the alacrity with which he uses either hand, or the coolness with which he _receives_. his goodness on his legs, boxiana (a lord eldon in the skill and caution of his judgments) assures us, is unequalled. he doubles up an opponent, as a friend lately declared, as easily as though he were picking a flower or pinching a girl's cheek. he is about to fight jos. hudson, who challenged him lately at the royal tennis court. randall declared, that 'though he had declined fighting, he would _accommodate joshua_'; a kind and benevolent reply, which does equal honour to his head and heart. the editor of this little volume, like goldfinch in the 'road to ruin,' 'would not stay away for a thousand pounds.' he has already looked about for a tall horse and a taxed cart, and he has some hopes of compassing a drab coat and a white hat, for he has no wish to appear singular at such scenes." reynolds, like borrow, was an admirer of byron, and he anticipated borrow in the spirit of his remark to john murray that the author's trade was contemptible compared with the jockey's. at that moment it was unquestionably so. soon even reviewing failed. the "universal review" died at the beginning of , and borrow seems to have quarrelled with phillips because some germans had found the german of his translation as unintelligible as he had found the publisher's english. he had nothing left but his physical strength, his translations, and a very little money. when he had come down to half-a-crown, he says, he thought of accepting a patriotic armenian's invitation to translate an armenian work into english; only the armenian went away. chapter xiii--"joseph sell" then, on a fair day on blackheath, he met mr. petulengro again who said he looked ill and offered him the loan of pounds, which he would not accept, nor his invitation to join the band. dr. knapp confidently gives the date of may to this incident because that is the day of the annual fair. then seeing an advertisement: "a novel or tale is much wanted," outside a bookseller's shop, borrow wrote "the life and adventures of joseph sell, the great traveller." did he? dr. knapp thinks he did, but that the story had another name, and is to be sought for in such collections of and as "watt's literary souvenir." as borrow speaks of the materials of it having come from his own brain, and as dr. knapp says he could not invent, why not conclude that it was autobiographical? there is no evidence except that the account sounds true, and might very well be true. dr. knapp thinks that he wrote this book, and that he did many other things which he said he did, because wherever there is any evidence it corroborates borrow's statements except in small matters of names and dates. in the earlier version of "lavengro," represented by a manuscript and a proof, "ardry" is "arden," "jasper" is "ambrose," and the question "what is his name?" is answered by "thurtell," instead of a blank. now there was an ambrose smith whom borrow knew, and thurtell was such a man as he describes in search of a place for the fight. therefore, dr. knapp would be inclined to say that borrow did know a young man named arden. and, furthermore, as isopel is called elizabeth in that earlier version, isopel did exist, but her name was elizabeth: she was, says mr. watts-dunton, "really an east anglian road girl" (not a gypsy) "of the finest type, known to the boswells and remembered not many years ago." and speaking of isopel--there is a story still to be heard at long melford of a girl "who lived on the green and ran away with the gypsy," in about the year . with this may possibly be connected another story: of a young painter of dogs and horses who was living at melford in and seduced either one or two sisters of the warden of the hospital or almshouse, and had two illegitimate children, one at any rate a girl. the great house was one used, but not built, for a workhouse: it stood near the vicarage at melford, but has now disappeared, and apparently its records with it. borrow did not invent, says knapp, which is absurd. some of his reappearances, recognitions and coincidences must be inventions. the postillion's tale must be largely invention. but it is not fair or necessary to retort as hindes groome did: "is the man in black then also a reality, and the reverend mr. platitude? in other words, did tractarianism exist in , eight years before it was engendered by keble's sermon?" for borrow was unscrupulous or careless about time and place. but it is fair and necessary to say, as hindes groome did, that some of the unverities in "lavengro" and "the romany rye" are "probably due to forgetfulness," the rest to "love of posing, but much more to an honest desire to produce an amusing and interesting book." { a} borrow was a great admirer of the "memoirs" { b} of vidocq," principal agent of the french police till --now proprietor of the paper manufactory at st. maude," and formerly showman, soldier, galley slave, and highwayman. of this book the editor says: "it is not our province or intention to enter into a discussion of the veracity of vidocq's "memoirs": be they true or false, were they purely fiction from the first chapter to the last, they would, from fertility of invention, knowledge of human nature, and easy style, rank only second to the novels of le sage." it was certainly with books such as this in his mind that borrow composed his autobiography, but it goes so much deeper that it is at every point a revelation, usually of actual events and emotions, always of thought and taste. in these "memoirs" of vidocq there is a man named christian, or caron, with a reputation for removing charms cast on animals, and he takes vidocq to his gypsy friends at malines: "having traversed the city, we stopped in the faubourg de louvain, before a wretched looking house with blackened walls, furrowed with wide crevices, and many bundles of straw as substitutes for window glasses. it was midnight, and i had time to make my observations by the moonlight, for more than half an hour elapsed before the door was opened by one of the most hideous old hags i ever saw in my life. we were then introduced to a long room where thirty persons of both sexes were indiscriminately smoking and drinking, mingling in strange and licentious positions. under their blue loose frocks, ornamented with red embroidery, the men wore blue velvet waistcoats with silver buttons, like the andalusian muleteers; the clothing of the women was all of one bright colour; there were some ferocious countenances amongst them, but yet they were all feasting. the monotonous sound of a drum, mingled with the howling of two dogs tied under the table, accompanied the strange songs, which i mistook for a funeral psalm. the smoke of tobacco and wood which filled this den, scarcely allowed me to perceive in the midst of the room a woman, who, adorned with a scarlet turban, was performing a wild dance with the most wanton postures." dr. knapp, on insufficient evidence, attributes the translation to borrow. but certainly borrow might have incorporated this passage in his own work almost word for word without justifying a charge either of plagiarism or untruth. other men had written fiction as if it were autobiography; he was writing autobiography as if it were fiction; he used his own life as a subject for fiction. ford crudely said that borrow "coloured up and poetised" his adventures. chapter xiv--out of london if borrow is taken literally, he was at blackheath on may , , sold his "life of joseph sell" on the th, and left london on the nd. "for some months past i had been far from well, and my original indisposition, brought on partly by the peculiar atmosphere of the big city, partly by anxiety of mind, had been much increased by the exertions which i had been compelled to make during the last few days. i felt that, were i to remain where i was, i should die, or become a confirmed valetudinarian. i would go forth into the country, travelling on foot, and, by exercise and inhaling pure air, endeavour to recover my health, leaving my subsequent movements to be determined by providence." he says definitely in the appendix to "the romany rye," that he fled from london and hack-authorship for "fear of a consumption." walking on an unknown road out of london the "poor thin lad" felt tired at the ninth milestone, and thought of putting up at an inn for the night, but instead took the coach to ---, _i.e._, amesbury. the remaining ninety chapters of "lavengro" and "the romany rye" are filled by the story of the next four months of borrow's life and by stories told to him during that period. the preceding fifty-seven chapters had sufficed for twenty-two years. "the novelty" of the new itinerant life, says mr. thomas seccombe, { } "graved every incident in the most vivid possible manner upon the writer's recollection." after walking for four days northwest from salisbury he met an author, a rich man who was continually touching things to avert the evil chance, and with him he stayed the night. on the next day he bought a pony and cart from the tinker, jack slingsby, with the purpose of working on the tinker's beat and making horse-shoes. after some days he was visited down in a shropshire dingle by a gypsy girl, who poisoned him at the instigation of his enemy, old mrs. herne. only the accidental appearance of the welsh preacher, peter williams, saved him. years afterwards, in , it may be mentioned here, he told a friend in cornwall that his fits of melancholy were due to the poison of a gypsy crone. he spent a week in the company of the preacher and his wife, and was about to cross the welsh border with them when jasper petulengro reappeared, and he turned back. jasper told him that mrs. herne had hanged herself out of disappointment at his escape from her poison. this made it a point of honour for jasper to fight borrow, whose bloody face satisfied him in half an hour: he even offered borrow his sister ursula for a wife. borrow refused, and settled alone in mumper's dingle, which was perhaps mumber lane, five miles from willenhall in staffordshire. { } here he fought the flaming tinman, who had driven slingsby out of his beat. the tinman brought with him his wife and isopel berners, the tall fair-haired girl who struck borrow first with her beauty and then with her right arm. isopel stayed with borrow after the defeat of the tinman, and their companionship in the dingle fills a very large part of "lavengro" and "the romany rye," with interruptions and diversions from the man in black, the gin-drinking priest, who was then at work undermining the protestantism of old england. isopel stood by him when suffering from "indescribable horror," and recommended "ale, and let it be strong." borrow makes her evidently inclined to marry him; for example, when she says that if she goes to america she will go alone "unless--unless that should happen which is not likely," and when he says ". . . if i had the power i would make you queen of something better than the dingle--queen of china. come, let us have tea," and "'something less would content me,' said belle, sighing, as she rose to prepare our evening meal"--and when at the postillion's suggestion of a love affair, she buries her face in her hands. "she would sigh, too," he says, "as i recounted the many slights and degradations i had received at the hands of ferocious publishers." in one place borrow says: "i am, of course, nothing to her, but she is mistaken in thinking she is nothing to me." borrow represents himself as tyrannically imposing himself upon the girl as teacher of armenian, enlivening the instruction with the one mild _double entendre_, of "i decline a mistress." at times they seem on terms of as perfect good fellowship as ever was, with a touch of post-matrimonial indifference; but isopel had fits of weeping and borrow of listlessness. borrow was uncommonly fond of prophetic tragic irony. as he made thurtell unconsciously suggest to the reader his own execution, so he makes isopel say one day when she is going a journey: "i shall return once more." lavengro starts but thinks no more of it. while she was away he began to think: "i began to think, 'what was likely to be the profit of my present way of life; the living in dingles, making pony and donkey shoes, conversing with gypsy-women under hedges, and extracting from them their odd secrets?' what was likely to be the profit of such a kind of life, even should it continue for a length of time?--a supposition not very probable, for i was earning nothing to support me, and the funds with which i had entered upon this life were gradually disappearing. i was living, it is true, not unpleasantly, enjoying the healthy air of heaven; but, upon the whole, was i not sadly misspending my time? surely i was; and, as i looked back, it appeared to me that i had always been doing so. what had been the profit of the tongues which i had learned? had they ever assisted me in the day of hunger? no, no! it appeared to me that i had always misspent my time, save in one instance, when by a desperate effort i had collected all the powers of my imagination, and written the 'life of joseph sell'; but even when i wrote the 'life of sell,' was i not in a false position? provided i had not misspent my time, would it have been necessary to make that effort, which, after all, had only enabled me to leave london, and wander about the country for a time? but could i, taking all circumstances into consideration, have done better than i had? with my peculiar temperament and ideas, could i have pursued with advantage the profession to which my respectable parents had endeavoured to bring me up? it appeared to me that i could not, and that the hand of necessity had guided me from my earliest years, until the present night in which i found myself seated in the dingle, staring on the brands of the fire. but ceasing to think of the past which, as irrecoverably gone, it was useless to regret, even were there cause to regret it, what should i do in future? should i write another book like the 'life of joseph sell;' take it to london, and offer it to a publisher? but when i reflected on the grisly sufferings which i had undergone whilst engaged in writing the 'life of sell,' i shrank from the idea of a similar attempt; moreover, i doubted whether i possessed the power to write a similar work--whether the materials for the life of another sell lurked within the recesses of my brain? had i not better become in reality what i had hitherto been merely playing at--a tinker or a gypsy? but i soon saw that i was not fitted to become either in reality. it was much more agreeable to play the gypsy or the tinker, than to become either in reality. i had seen enough of gypsying and tinkering to be convinced of that. all of a sudden the idea of tilling the soil came into my head; tilling the soil was a healthful and noble pursuit! but my idea of tilling the soil had no connection with britain; for i could only expect to till the soil in britain as a serf. i thought of tilling it in america, in which it was said there was plenty of wild, unclaimed land, of which any one, who chose to clear it of its trees, might take possession. i figured myself in america, in an immense forest, clearing the land destined, by my exertions, to become a fruitful and smiling plain. methought i heard the crash of the huge trees as they fell beneath my axe; and then i bethought me that a man was intended to marry--i ought to marry; and if i married, where was i likely to be more happy as a husband and a father than in america, engaged in tilling the ground? i fancied myself in america, engaged in tilling the ground, assisted by an enormous progeny. well, why not marry, and go and till the ground in america? i was young, and youth was the time to marry in, and to labour in. i had the use of all my faculties; my eyes, it is true, were rather dull from early study, and from writing the 'life of joseph sell'; but i could see tolerably well with them, and they were not bleared. i felt my arms, and thighs, and teeth--they were strong and sound enough; so now was the time to labour, to marry, eat strong flesh, and beget strong children--the power of doing all this would pass away with youth, which was terribly transitory. i bethought me that a time would come when my eyes would be bleared, and perhaps, sightless; my arms and thighs strengthless and sapless; when my teeth would shake in my jaws, even supposing they did not drop out. no going a wooing then--no labouring--no eating strong flesh, and begetting lusty children then; and i bethought me how, when all this should be, i should bewail the days of my youth as misspent, provided i had not in them founded for myself a home, and begotten strong children to take care of me in the days when i could not take care of myself; and thinking of these things, i became sadder and sadder, and stared vacantly upon the fire till my eyes closed in a doze." so, before going to bed, he filled the kettle in case isopel should return during the night. he fell asleep and was dreaming hard and hearing the sound of wheels in his dream "grating amidst sand and gravel," when suddenly he awoke. "the next moment i was awake, and found myself sitting up in my tent; there was a glimmer of light through the canvas caused by the fire; a feeling of dread came over me, which was perhaps natural, on starting suddenly from one's sleep in that wild lone place; i half imagined that some one was nigh the tent; the idea made me rather uncomfortable, and to dissipate it i lifted up the canvas of the door and peeped out, and, lo! i had an indistinct view of a tall figure standing by the tent. 'who is that?' said i, whilst i felt my blood rush to my heart. 'it is i,' said the voice of isopel berners; 'you little expected me, i dare say; well, sleep on, i do not wish to disturb you.' 'but i was expecting you,' said i, recovering myself, 'as you may see by the fire and the kettle. i will be with you in a moment.' "putting on in haste the articles of dress which i had flung off, i came out of the tent, and addressing myself to isopel, who was standing beside her cart, i said--'just as i was about to retire to rest i thought it possible that you might come to-night, and got everything in readiness for you. now, sit down by the fire whilst i lead the donkey and cart to the place where you stay; i will unharness the animal, and presently come and join you.' 'i need not trouble you,' said isopel; 'i will go myself and see after my things.' 'we will go together,' said i, 'and then return and have some tea.' isopel made no objection, and in about half an hour we had arranged everything at her quarters. i then hastened and prepared tea. presently isopel rejoined me, bringing her stool; she had divested herself of her bonnet, and her hair fell over her shoulders; she sat down, and i poured out the beverage, handing her a cup. 'have you made a long journey to-night?' said i. 'a very long one,' replied belle,' i have come nearly twenty miles since six o'clock.' 'i believe i heard you coming in my sleep,' said i; 'did the dogs above bark at you?' 'yes,' said isopel, 'very violently; did you think of me in your sleep?' 'no,' said i, 'i was thinking of ursula and something she had told me.' 'when and where was that?' said isopel. 'yesterday evening,' said i, 'beneath the dingle hedge.' 'then you were talking with her beneath the hedge?' 'i was,' said i, 'but only upon gypsy matters. do you know, belle, that she has just been married to sylvester, so you need not think that she and i . . . ' 'she and you are quite at liberty to sit where you please,' said isopel. 'however, young man,' she continued, dropping her tone, which she had slightly raised, 'i believe what you said, that you were merely talking about gypsy matters, and also what you were going to say, if it was, as i suppose, that she and you had no particular acquaintance.' isopel was now silent for some time. 'what are you thinking of?' said i. 'i was thinking,' said belle, 'how exceedingly kind it was of you to get everything in readiness for me, though you did not know that i should come.' 'i had a presentiment that you would come,' said i; 'but you forget that i have prepared the kettle for you before, though it was true i was then certain that you would come.' 'i had not forgotten your doing so, young man,' said belle; 'but i was beginning to think that you were utterly selfish, caring for nothing but the gratification of your own strange whims.' 'i am very fond of having my own way,' said i, 'but utterly selfish i am not, as i dare say i shall frequently prove to you. you will often find the kettle boiling when you come home.' 'not heated by you,' said isopel, with a sigh. 'by whom else?' said i; 'surely you are not thinking of driving me away?' 'you have as much right here as myself,' said isopel, 'as i have told you before; but i must be going myself.' 'well,' said i, 'we can go together; to tell you the truth, i am rather tired of this place.' 'our paths must be separate,' said belle. 'separate,' said i, 'what do you mean? i shan't let you go alone, i shall go with you; and you know the road is as free to me as to you; besides, you can't think of parting company with me, considering how much you would lose by doing so; remember that you scarcely know anything of the armenian language; now, to learn armenian from me would take you twenty years.' "belle faintly smiled. 'come,' said i, 'take another cup of tea.' belle took another cup of tea, and yet another; we had some indifferent conversation, after which i arose and gave her donkey a considerable feed of corn. belle thanked me, shook me by the hand, and then went to her own tabernacle, and i returned to mine." he torments her once more with armenian and makes her speak in such a way that the reader sees--what he himself did not then see--that she was too sick with love for banter. she bade him farewell with the same transparent significance on the next day, when he was off early to a fair. "i waved my hand towards her. she slowly lifted up her right arm. i turned away and never saw isopel berners again." that night as he was going home he said: "isopel berners is waiting for me, and the first word that i shall hear from her lips is that she has made up her mind. we shall go to america, and be so happy together." she sent him a letter of farewell, and he could not follow her, he would not try, lest if he overtook her she should despise him for running after her. i can only say that it is an extraordinary love-making, but then all love- making, when truthfully reported, is extraordinary. there can be little doubt, therefore, that this episode is truthfully reported. borrow himself has made a comment on himself and women through the mouth of jasper. the gypsy had overheard him talking to his sister ursula for three hours under a hedge, and his opinion was: "i begin to think you care for nothing in this world but old words and strange stories." when, afterwards, invited to kiss the same ursula, he refused, "having," he says, "inherited from nature a considerable fund of modesty, to which was added no slight store acquired in the course of my irish education," _i.e._ at the age of twelve. after isopel had gone he bought a fine horse with the help of a loan of pounds from jasper, and travelled with it across england, meeting adventures and hearing of others. he was for a time bookkeeper at a coaching inn, still with some pounds in his purse. at horncastle, which he mentions more than once by name, he sold the horse for pounds. as the fair at horncastle lasted from the th to the st of august, the date of this last adventure is almost exactly fixed. here the book ends. {picture: horncastle horse fair. (from an old print.): page .jpg} chapter xv--an early portrait at the end of these travels borrow had turned twenty-two. his brother john painted his portrait, but it has disappeared, and borrow himself, as if fearing lest no adequate picture of him should remain, took pains to leave the material for one. it is a peculiarity of his books that people whom he meets and converses with often remark on his appearance. he must himself have been tolerably familiar with it and used to comment on it. he told his father that a lady thought him like alfieri's saul; at a later date haydon, the painter, said he would "make a capital pharaoh." years before, when he was a boy, petulengro recognised him after a long absence, because there was something in his face to prevent people from forgetting him. mrs. herne, his gypsy enemy, praised him for his "singular and outrageous ugliness." he was lean, long-limbed and tall, having reached his full height of six-feet-two probably before the end of his teens; he had plenty of room to fill before becoming a big man, and yet he was already powerful and clearly destined to be a big man. his hair had for some time been rapidly becoming grey, and was soon to be altogether white: it had once been black, and his strongly-marked eyebrows were still dark brown. his face was oval and inclining to olive in complexion; his nose rounded, but not too large; his mouth good and well-moulded; his eyes dark brown and noticeable indescribably, either through their light or through the curve of the eyelids across them. "you have a flash about that eye of yours," says the old apple woman, and it is she that notices the "blob of foam" on his lips, while he is musing aloud, exclaiming "necessity!" and cracking his finger-joints. he had an irish look, or so thought his london acquaintance, ardry. he looked "rather wild" at times and he had a way of clenching his fist when he was determined not to be put upon, as the bullying coachman found who had said: "one-and-ninepence, sir, or the things which you have brought with you will be taken away from you." yet he had small hands for his size and "long white fingers," which "would just serve for the business," said the thimble-rigger. though ready to hit people when he is angry, "a more civil and pleasant-spoken person than yourself," says ursula, "can't be found." his own opinion was "that he was not altogether deficient in courage and in propriety of behaviour. . . . that his appearance was not particularly against him, his face not being like that of a convicted pickpocket, nor his gait resembling that of a fox that has lost his tail." it is as a "poor thin lad" that he commends himself to us, through the mouth of the old apple woman, at his setting out from london, but as he gets on he shows himself "an excellent pedestrian." already in london he has made one or two favourable impressions, as when he convinces the superb waiter that he is "accustomed to claret." but it is upon the roads that he wishes to shine. when the man in black asks how he knows him, he answers that "gypsies have various ways of obtaining information." later on, he makes the man in black address him as "zingaro." he impresses the commercial traveller as "a confounded sensible young fellow, and not at all opinionated," and lord whitefeather as a highwayman in disguise, and the gypsies as one who never spoke a bad word and never did a bad thing. this is his most impressive moment, when the jockey discovers that he is the romany rye and tells him there is scarcely a part of england where he has not heard the name of the romany rye mentioned by the gypsies. here he makes another praise him. now let him mount the fine horse he has bought with pounds borrowed from a gypsy, and is about to sell for pounds at horncastle fair. "after a slight breakfast i mounted the horse, which, decked out in his borrowed finery, really looked better by a large sum of money than on any former occasion. making my way out of the yard of the inn, i was instantly in the principal street of the town, up and down which an immense number of horses were being exhibited, some led, and others with riders. 'a wonderful small quantity of good horses in the fair this time!' i heard a stout jockey-looking individual say, who was staring up the street with his side towards me. 'halloo, young fellow!' said he, a few moments after i had passed, 'whose horse is that? stop! i want to look at him!' though confident that he was addressing himself to me, i took no notice, remembering the advice of the ostler, and proceeded up the street. my horse possessed a good walking step; but walking, as the reader knows, was not his best pace, which was the long trot, at which i could not well exercise him in the street, on account of the crowd of men and animals; however, as he walked along, i could easily perceive that he attracted no slight attention amongst those who, by their jockey dress and general appearance, i imagined to be connoisseurs; i heard various calls to stop, to none of which i paid the slightest attention. in a few minutes i found myself out of the town, when, turning round for the purpose of returning, i found i had been followed by several of the connoisseur-looking individuals, whom i had observed in the fair. 'now would be the time for a display,' thought i; and looking around me i observed two five-barred gates, one on each side of the road, and fronting each other. turning my horse's head to one, i pressed my heels to his sides, loosened the reins, and gave an encouraging cry, whereupon the animal cleared the gate in a twinkling. before he had advanced ten yards in the field to which the gate opened, i had turned him round, and again giving him cry and rein, i caused him to leap back again into the road, and still allowing him head, i made him leap the other gate; and forthwith turning him round, i caused him to leap once more into the road, where he stood proudly tossing his head, as much as to say, 'what more?' 'a fine horse! a capital horse!' said several of the connoisseurs. 'what do you ask for him?' 'too much for any of you to pay,' said i. 'a horse like this is intended for other kind of customers than any of you.' 'how do you know that?' said one; the very same person whom i had heard complaining in the street of the paucity of good horses in the fair. 'come, let us know what you ask for him?' 'a hundred and fifty pounds!' said i; 'neither more nor less.' 'do you call that a great price?' said the man. 'why, i thought you would have asked double that amount! you do yourself injustice, young man.' 'perhaps i do,' said i, 'but that's my affair; i do not choose to take more.' 'i wish you would let me get into the saddle,' said the man; 'the horse knows you, and therefore shows to more advantage; but i should like to see how he would move under me, who am a stranger. will you let me get into the saddle, young man?' 'no,' said i, 'i will not let you get into the saddle.' 'why not?' said the man. 'lest you should be a yorkshireman,' said i, 'and should run away with the horse.' 'yorkshire?' said the man; 'i am from suffolk; silly suffolk--so you need not be afraid of my running away with the horse.' 'oh! if that's the case,' said i, 'i should be afraid that the horse would run away with you; so i will by no means let you mount.' 'will you let me look in his mouth?' said the man. 'if you please,' said i; 'but i tell you, he's apt to bite.' 'he can scarcely be a worse bite than his master,' said the man, looking into the horse's mouth; 'he's four off. i say, young man, will you warrant this horse?' 'no,' said i; 'i never warrant horses; the horses that i ride can always warrant themselves.' 'i wish you would let me speak a word to you,' said he. 'just come aside. it's a nice horse,' said he, in a half whisper, after i had ridden a few paces aside with him. 'it's a nice horse,' said he, placing his hand upon the pommel of the saddle and looking up in my face, 'and i think i can find you a customer. if you would take a hundred, i think my lord would purchase it, for he has sent me about the fair to look him up a horse, by which he could hope to make an honest penny.' 'well,' said i, 'and could he not make an honest penny, and yet give me the price i ask?' 'why,' said the go-between, 'a hundred and fifty pounds is as much as the animal is worth, or nearly so; and my lord, do you see . . .' 'i see no reason at all,' said i, 'why i should sell the animal for less than he is worth, in order that his lordship may be benefited by him; so that if his lordship wants to make an honest penny, he must find some person who would consider the disadvantage of selling him a horse for less than it is worth, as counterbalanced by the honour of dealing with a lord, which i should never do; but i can't be wasting my time here. i am going back to the . . ., where if you, or any person, are desirous of purchasing the horse, you must come within the next half-hour, or i shall probably not feel disposed to sell him at all.' 'another word, young man,' said the jockey; but without staying to hear what he had to say, i put the horse to his best trot, and re-entering the town, and threading my way as well as i could through the press, i returned to the yard of the inn, where, dismounting, i stood still, holding the horse by the bridle." as no one else troubled to paint borrow either at horncastle or any other place, and as he took advantage of the fact to such purpose, i must leave this portrait as it is, only i shall remind the reader that it is not a photograph but a portrait of the painter. a little time ago this painter was a consumptive-looking literary hack, and is still a philologist, with eyes a bit dim from too much reading, and subject to frantic melancholy;--a liker of solitude and of men and women who do not disturb it, but a man accustomed to men and very well able to deal with them. chapter xvi--the veiled period the last words of "the romany rye" narrative are: "i shouldn't wonder if mr. petulengro and tawno chikno came originally from india. i think i'll go there." this is his way of giving impressiveness to the "veiled period" of the following seven or eight years, for the benefit of those who had read "the zincali" and "the bible in spain," and had been allured by the hints of earlier travel. in "the zincali" he has spoken of seeing "gypsies of various lands, russian, hungarian and turkish; and also the legitimate children of most countries of the world": of being "in the shop of an armenian at constantinople," and "lately at janina in albania." in "the bible in spain" he had spoken of "an acquaintance of mine, a tartar khan." he had described strange things, and said: "this is not the first instance in which it has been my lot to verify the wisdom of the saying, that truth is sometimes wilder than fiction;" he had met baron taylor and reminded the reader of other meetings "in the street or the desert, the brilliant hall or amongst bedouin haimas, at novgorod or stambul." before he had been in paris and madrid. "i have been everywhere," he said to the simple company at a welsh inn. speaking to colonel napier in at seville, he said that he had picked up the gypsy tongue "some years ago in moultan," and he gave the impression that he had visited most parts of the east. a little too much has been made of this "veiled period," not by borrow, but by others. it would have been fair to surmise that if he chose not to write about this period of his life, either there was very little in it, or there was something in it which he was unwilling--perhaps ashamed--to disclose; and what has been discovered suggests that he was in an unsettled state--writing to please himself and perhaps also the booksellers, travelling a little and perhaps meeting some of the adventures which he crammed into those few months of , suffering from "the horrors" either in solitude or with no confidant but his mother. borrow himself took no great pains to preserve the veil. for instance, in the preface to his translation of "y bardd cwsg" in , he says that it was made "in the year at the request of a little welsh bookseller of his acquaintance" in smithfield. in he was in norwich: the "romantic ballads" were published there, and in may he received a letter from allan cunningham, whose cheery commendatory verses ushered in the book. the letter suggests that borrow was indolent from apathy. the book had no success or notice, which knapp puts down to his not sending out presentation copies. "i judge, however," says he, "that he sent one to walter scott, and that that busy writer forgot to acknowledge the courtesy. borrow's lifelong hostility to scott would thus be accounted for;" but the hostility is his reason for supposing that the copy was sent. some time afterwards, in , he was at , bryanstone street, portman square, and was to sit for the artist, b. r. haydon, before going off to the south of france. if he went, he may have paid the visits to paris, bayonne, italy and spain, which he alludes to in "the bible in spain"; he may, as dr. knapp suggests, have covered the ground of murtagh's alleged travels in "the romany rye," and have been at pau, with quesada's army marching to pamplona, at torrelodones, and at seville. but in a letter to the bible society in he spoke of his earlier acquaintance with spain being confined almost entirely to madrid. it may be true, as he says in "the zincali," that "once in the south of france, when he was weary, hungry, and penniless, he observed one of these patterans or gypsy trails, and, following the direction pointed out, arrived at the resting place of some gypsies, who received him with kindness and hospitality on the faith of no other word of recommendation than patteran." it may be true that he wandered in italy, and rested at nightfall by a kiln "about four leagues from genoa." but by april, , he must have been back in norwich, according to knapp, to see marshland shales at the fair. knapp gives certain proof that he was there between september and december. thereafter, if knapp was right, he was translating vidocq's "memoirs." in again he was in london, at , great russell street, bloomsbury, and was projecting with john bowring a collection of "songs of scandinavia." he applied for work to the highland society and to the british museum, in . in that summer he was at , museum street, bloomsbury. he was not satisfied with his work or its remuneration. he thought of entering the french army, of going to greece, of getting work, with bowring's help, under the belgian government. his name "had been down for several years" for the purchase of a commission in the english army, and bowring offered to recommend him to "a corps in one of the eastern colonies," where he could perfect his arabic and persian. in he wrote a letter to bowring, printed by mr. walling, asking for "as many of the papers and manuscripts which i left at yours some twelve years ago, as you can find," and for advice and a loan of books, and promising that murray will send a copy of "the bible in spain" to "my oldest, i may say my _only_ friend." but whatever bowring's help, borrow was "drifting on the sea of the world, and likely to be so," and especially hurt because of the figure he must cut in the eyes of his own people. was it now, or when he was bookkeeper at the inn in , that he saw so much of the ways of commercial travellers? { } it is not necessary to quote from the metrical translations, probably of this period, "selections from a huge, undigested mass of translation, accumulated during several years devoted to philological pursuits," published in "the targum" of . they were made from originals in the hebrew, arabic, persian, turkish, tartar, tibetian, chinese, mandchou, russian, malo-russian, polish, finnish, anglo-saxon, ancient norse, suabian, german, dutch, danish, ancient danish, swedish, ancient irish, irish, gaelic, ancient british, cambrian british, greek, modern greek, latin, provencal, italian, spanish, portuguese, french, rommany. i will, however, quote from "the sleeping bard, or visions of the world, death and hell," his translation of elis wyn's "y bardd cwsg." the book would please borrow, because in the city of perdition rome stands at the gate of pride, and the pope has palaces in the streets of pleasure and of lucre; because the church of england is the fairest part of the catholic church, surmounted by "queen anne on the pinnacle of the building, with a sword in each hand"; and because the papist is turned away from the catholic church by a porter with "an exceedingly large bible." "one fair morning," he begins: "one fair morning of genial april, when the earth was green and pregnant, and britain, like a paradise, was wearing splendid liveries, tokens of the smile of the summer sun, i was walking upon the bank of the severn, in the midst of the sweet notes of the little songsters of the wood, who appeared to be striving to break through all the measures of music, whilst pouring forth praise to the creator. i, too, occasionally raised my voice and warbled with the feathered choir, though in a manner somewhat more restrained than that in which they sang; and occasionally read a portion of the book of 'the practice of godliness.'" and in his vision he saw fiends drive men and women through the foul river of the fiend to their eternal damnation, where "i at the first glance saw more pains and torments than the heart of man can imagine or the tongue relate; a single one of which was sufficient to make the hair stand erect, the blood to freeze, the flesh to melt, the bones to drop from their places--yea, the spirit to faint. what is empaling or sawing men alive, tearing off the flesh piecemeal with iron pincers, or broiling the flesh with candles, collop fashion, or squeezing heads flat in a vice, and all the most shocking devices which ever were upon earth, compared with one of these? mere pastime! there were a hundred thousand shoutings, hoarse cries, and strong groans; yonder a boisterous wailing and horrible outcry answering them, and the howling of a dog is sweet, delicious music when compared with these sounds. when we had proceeded a little way onward from the accursed beach, towards the wild place of damnation, i perceived, by their own light, innumerable men and women here and there; and devils without number and without rest, incessantly employing their strength in tormenting. yes, there they were, devils and damned, the devils roaring with their own torments, and making the damned roar by means of the torments which they inflicted upon them. i paid particular observation to the corner which was nearest me. there i beheld the devils with pitchforks, tossing the damned up into the air that they might fall headlong on poisoned hatchets or barbed pikes, there to wriggle their bowels out. after a time the wretches would crawl in multitudes, one upon another, to the top of one of the burning crags, there to be broiled like mutton; from there they would be snatched afar, to the top of one of the mountains of eternal frost and snow, where they would be allowed to shiver for a time; thence they would be precipitated into a loathsome pool of boiling brimstone, to wallow there in conflagration, smoke and the suffocation of horrible stench; from the pool they would be driven to the marsh of hell, that they might embrace and be embraced by the reptiles, many times worse than serpents and vipers; after allowing them half an hour's dalliance with these creatures the devils would seize a bundle of rods of steel, fiery hot from the furnace, and would scourge them till their howling, caused by the horrible inexpressible pain which they endured, would fill the vast abode of darkness, and when the fiends deemed that they had scourged them enough, they would take hot irons and sear their bloody wounds. . . ." and this would have particularly pleased borrow, who disliked and condemned smoking: "for one of late origin i will not deny, o cerberus, that thou hast brought to us many a booty from the island of our enemies, by means of tobacco, a weed the cause of much deceit; for how much deceit is practised in carrying it about, in mixing it, and in weighing it: a weed which entices some people to bib ale; others to curse, swear, and to flatter in order to obtain it, and others to tell lies in denying that they use it: a weed productive of maladies in various bodies, the excess of which is injurious to every man's body, without speaking of his _soul_: a weed, moreover, by which we get multitudes of the poor, whom we should never get did they not set their love on tobacco, allow it to master them, and pull the bread from the mouths of their children." in the preface to this book as it was finally published in , borrow said that the little welsh bookseller had rejected it for fear of being ruined--"the terrible descriptions of vice and torment would frighten the genteel part of the english public out of their wits. . . . i had no idea, till i read him in english, that elis wyn had been such a terrible fellow." in september, , borrow left london and returned to norwich, having done nothing which attracted attention or deserved to. his brother's opinion was that his want of success in life was due chiefly to his being unlike other people. so far as his failure in literature went, it was due to the fact that he was doing either poorly or only moderately well work that very few people wanted to read, viz., chiefly verse translations from unfashionable languages. it may be also that his health was partly the cause and was in turn lowered by the long continued failure. when borrow, at the age of forty or more, came to write about the first twenty-two years of his life, he not only described himself suffering from several attacks of "the horrors," but also with almost equal vividness three men suffering from mental afflictions of different kinds: the author who lived alone and was continually touching things to avert the evil chance; the old man who had saved himself from being overwhelmed in his terrible misfortunes by studying the inscriptions on chinese pots, but could not tell the time; and the welshman who wandered over the country preaching and living piously, but haunted by the knowledge that in his boyhood he had committed the sin against the holy ghost. the most vivid description of his "horrors," which he said in always followed if they did not result from weakness, is in the eighty-fourth chapter of "lavengro": "heaviness had suddenly come over me, heaviness of heart, and of body also. i had accomplished the task which i had imposed upon myself, and now that nothing more remained to do, my energies suddenly deserted me, and i felt without strength, and without hope. several causes, perhaps, co-operated to bring about the state in which i then felt myself. it is not improbable that my energies had been overstrained during the work, the progress of which i have attempted to describe; and every one is aware that the results of overstrained energies are feebleness and lassitude--want of nourishment might likewise have something to do with it. during my sojourn in the dingle my food had been of the simplest and most unsatisfying description, by no means calculated to support the exertions which the labour i had been engaged upon required; it had consisted of coarse oaten cakes, and hard cheese, and for beverage i had been indebted to a neighbouring pit, in which, in the heat of the day, i frequently saw, not golden or silver fish, but frogs and efts swimming about. i am, however, inclined to believe that mrs. herne's cake had quite as much to do with the matter as insufficient nourishment. i had never entirely recovered from the effects of its poison, but had occasionally, especially at night, been visited by a grinding pain in the stomach, and my whole body had been suffused with cold sweat; and indeed these memorials of the drow have never entirely disappeared--even at the present time they display themselves in my system, especially after much fatigue of body, and excitement of mind. so there i sat in the dingle upon my stone, nerveless and hopeless, by whatever cause or causes that state had been produced--there i sat with my head leaning upon my hand, and so i continued a long, long time. at last i lifted my head from my hand, and began to cast anxious, unquiet looks about the dingle--the entire hollow was now enveloped in deep shade--i cast my eyes up; there was a golden gleam on the tops of the trees which grew towards the upper parts of the dingle; but lower down, all was gloom and twilight--yet, when i first sat down on my stone, the sun was right above the dingle, illuminating all its depths by the rays which it cast perpendicularly down--so i must have sat a long, long time upon my stone. and now, once more, i rested my head upon my hand, but almost instantly lifted it again in a kind of fear, and began looking at the objects before me, the forge, the tools, the branches of the trees, endeavouring to follow their rows, till they were lost in the darkness of the dingle; and now i found my right hand grasping convulsively the three forefingers of the left, first collectively, and then successively, wringing them till the joints cracked; then i became quiet, but not for long. "suddenly i started up, and could scarcely repress the shriek which was rising to my lips. was it possible? yes, all too certain; the evil one was upon me; the inscrutable horror which i had felt in my boyhood had once more taken possession of me. i had thought that it had forsaken me; that it would never visit me again; that i had outgrown it; that i might almost bid defiance to it; and i had even begun to think of it without horror, as we are in the habit of doing of horrors of which we conceive we run no danger; and lo! when least thought of, it had seized me again. every moment i felt it gathering force, and making me more wholly its own. what should i do?--resist, of course; and i did resist. i grasped, i tore, and strove to fling it from me; but of what avail were my efforts? i could only have got rid of it by getting rid of myself; it was a part of myself, or rather it was all myself. i rushed among the trees, and struck at them with my bare fists, and dashed my head against them, but i felt no pain. how could i feel pain with that horror upon me! and then i flung myself on the ground, gnawed the earth, and swallowed it; and then i looked round; it was almost total darkness in the dingle, and the darkness added to my horror. i could no longer stay there; up i rose from the ground, and attempted to escape; at the bottom of the winding path which led up the acclivity i fell over something which was lying on the ground; the something moved, and gave a kind of whine. it was my little horse, which had made that place its lair; my little horse; my only companion and friend, in that now awful solitude. i reached the mouth of the dingle; the sun was just sinking in the far west, behind me; the fields were flooded with his last gleams. how beautiful everything looked in the last gleams of the sun! i felt relieved for a moment; i was no longer in the horrid dingle; in another minute the sun was gone, and a big cloud occupied the place where he had been; in a little time it was almost as dark as it had previously been in the open part of the dingle. my horror increased; what was i to do?--it was of no use fighting against the horror; that i saw; the more i fought against it, the stronger it became. what should i do: say my prayers? ah! why not? so i knelt down under the hedge, and said, 'our father'; but that was of no use; and now i could no longer repress cries; the horror was too great to be borne. what should i do: run to the nearest town or village, and request the assistance of my fellow-men? no! that i was ashamed to do; notwithstanding the horror was upon me, i was ashamed to do that. i knew they would consider me a maniac, if i went screaming amongst them; and i did not wish to be considered a maniac. moreover, i knew that i was not a maniac, for i possessed all my reasoning powers, only the horror was upon me--the screaming horror! but how were indifferent people to distinguish between madness and this screaming horror? so i thought and reasoned; and at last i determined not to go amongst my fellow men, whatever the result might be. i went to the mouth of the dingle, and there, placing myself on my knees, i again said the lord's prayer; but it was of no use; praying seemed to have no effect over the horror; the unutterable fear appeared rather to increase than diminish; and i again uttered wild cries, so loud that i was apprehensive they would be heard by some chance passenger on the neighbouring road; i therefore went deeper into the dingle; i sat down with my back against a thorn bush; the thorns entered my flesh, and when i felt them, i pressed harder against the bush; i thought the pain of the flesh might in some degree counteract the mental agony; presently i felt them no longer; the power of the mental horror was so great that it was impossible, with that upon me, to feel any pain from the thorns. i continued in this posture a long time, undergoing what i cannot describe, and would not attempt if i were able. several times i was on the point of starting up and rushing anywhere; but i restrained myself, for i knew i could not escape from myself, so why should i not remain in the dingle? so i thought and said to myself, for my reasoning powers were still uninjured. at last it appeared to me that the horror was not so strong, not quite so strong upon me. was it possible that it was relaxing its grasp, releasing its prey? o what a mercy! but it could not be--and yet i looked up to heaven, and clasped my hands, and said 'our father.' i said no more; i was too agitated; and now i was almost sure that the horror had done its worst. "after a little time i arose, and staggered down yet farther into the dingle. i again found my little horse on the same spot as before, i put my hand to his mouth; he licked my hand. i flung myself down by him and put my arms round his neck, the creature whinnied, and appeared to sympathise with me; what a comfort to have any one, even a dumb brute, to sympathise with me at such a moment! i clung to my little horse, as if for safety and protection. i laid my head on his neck, and felt almost calm; presently the fear returned, but not so wild as before; it subsided, came again, again subsided; then drowsiness came over me, and at last i fell asleep, my head supported on the neck of the little horse. i awoke; it was dark, dark night--not a star was to be seen--but i felt no fear, the horror had left me. i arose from the side of the little horse, and went into my tent, lay down, and again went to sleep. . . ." it may be said that the man who had gone through this, and could describe it, would find it easy enough to depict other sufferings of the same kind, though in later or less violent stages. it is certain, however, that for such a one to acquire the habit of touching was easy. he says himself, that after the night with the author who had this habit and who feared ideas more than thunder and lightning, he himself touched things and wondered if "the long-forgotten influence" had returned. mr. walling says that "he has been informed" that borrow "suffered in his youth from the touching mania," and like many other readers probably, i had concluded the same. but mr. watts-dunton had already told us that "in walking through richmond park," when an old man, borrow "would step out of his way constantly to touch a tree and was offended if observed." the old man diverting himself with chinese inscriptions on teapots would be an easy invention for borrow; he may not have done this very thing, but he had done similar things. here again, mr. walling says that "he has been told" the incident was drawn from borrow's own experience. as to peter williams and the sin against the holy ghost, borrow hinted to him that his case was not exceptional: "'dost thou then imagine,' said peter, 'the sin against the holy ghost to be so common an occurrence?' "'as you have described it,' said i, 'of very common occurrence, especially amongst children, who are, indeed, the only beings likely to commit it.' "'truly,' said winifred, 'the young man talks wisely.' "peter was silent for some moments, and appeared to be reflecting; at last, suddenly raising his head, he looked me full in the face, and, grasping my hand with vehemence, he said, 'tell me, young man, only one thing, hast thou, too, committed the sin against the holy ghost?' "'i am neither papist nor methodist,' said i, 'but of the church, and, being so, confess myself to no one, but keep my own counsel; i will tell thee, however, had i committed at the same age, twenty such sins as that which you committed, i should feel no uneasiness at these years--but i am sleepy, and must go to rest.'" this is due to probably something more than a desire to make himself and his past impressive. the man's story in several places reminds me of borrow, where, for instance, after he has realised his unpardonable sin, he runs wild through wales, "climbing mountains and wading streams, burnt by the sun, drenched by the rain," so that for three years he hardly knew what befel him, living with robbers and gypsies, and once about to fling himself into the sea from a lofty rock. if it be true, as it is likely, that borrow suffered in a more extended manner than he showed in his accounts of the horrors, the time of the suffering is still uncertain. was it before his first escape from london, as he says in "lavengro"? was it during his second long stay in london or after his second escape? or was it really not long before the actual narrative was written in the 'forties? there is some reason for thinking so. the most vivid description of "the horrors," and the account of the touching gentleman and of peter williams, together with a second reference to "the horrors" or the "evil one," all occur in a section of "lavengro" equal to hardly more than a sixth of the whole. and further, when borrow was writing "wild wales," or when he met the sickly young man at the "castle inn" of caernarvon, he thought of himself as always having had "the health of an elephant." i should be inclined to conclude at least that when he was forty great mental suffering was still fresh in his mind, something worse than the heavy melancholy which returned now and then when he was past fifty. chapter xvii--the bible society: russia from the phrase, "he said in ' ," which borrow uses of himself in chapter x. of the appendix to "the romany rye," it was to be concluded that he was writing political articles in ; and dr. knapp was able to quote a manuscript of the time where he says that "there is no radical who would not rejoice to see his native land invaded by the bitterest of her foreign enemies," etc., and also a letter, printed in the "norfolk chronicle," on august , , on the origin of the word "tory." at the end of this year he became friendly with the family of skepper, including the widowed mrs. mary clarke, then years old, who lived at oulton hall, near lowestoft, in suffolk. with or through them he met the rev. francis cunningham, vicar of st. margaret's, lowestoft, who had married a sister of the quaker banker, joseph john gurney, and through the offices of these two, borrow was invited to go before the british and foreign bible society, as a candidate for employment in some branch of the society's work where his knowledge of languages would be useful. he walked to london for the purpose in december, . the society was satisfied and sent him back to norwich to learn the manchu-tartar language. there he wrote a letter, which, if we take dr. knapp's word for it, was "a sort of recantation of the taylorism of ." being now near thirty, and perhaps having his worst "horrors" behind him, or at least having reason to think so if he was already fond of mrs. clarke, whom he afterwards married, it was easy for him to fall into the same way of speaking as these good and kindly people, and to abuse buddhism, which he did not understand, for their delectation. mrs. clarke had four or five hundred pounds a year of her own, and one child, a daughter, then about fourteen years old. perhaps it was natural that he should remember then, as he did later, the words of the cheerful and forgetful wise man: "i have been young and now am grown old, yet never have i seen the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging bread." from a gloomily fanatical atheist borrow changed to a cheerfully fanatical protestant, described as "of the middle order in society, and a very produceable person." { } he was probably never a good atheist of the reasonable critical type like william taylor, whose thinking was too dull and too difficult for him. above all it was too negative and unrelated to anything but the brain for the man who wrote "lines to six- foot-three" and consorted with gypsies. he had taken atheism along with taylor's literary and linguistic teaching, perhaps with some eagerness at first as a form of protest against conventionally pious and respectable norwich life. the bible society and mrs. clarke and her friends came radiant and benevolent to his "looped and windowed" atheism. they gave him friends and money: they gave him an occupation on which he felt, and afterwards found, that he could spend his hesitating energies. he gathered up all his powers to serve the bible society. he suffered hunger, cold, imprisonment, wounded feet, long hours of indoor labour and long hours of dismal attendance upon inexorable official delay. personally he irritated mr. brandram, the secretary, and his bold and unexpected ways gave the society something to put up with, but he was always a faithful and enthusiastic servant. he had many reasons for being grateful to them. he, who was going to get himself imprisoned for atheism, had already become, as mr. cunningham thought, a man "of certain christian principle," if "of no very exactly defined denomination of christians." he certainly did become an unquestioning wild missionary--though not merely wild, for he was discreet in his boldness; he was careful to save the society money; he made himself respected by the highest english and spanish officials in spain; so that in , for the first time in the society's history, an english ambassador made their cause a national one. he wanted to shout and the bible society gave him something to shout for. he wanted to fight and they gave him something to fight for. twenty years afterwards, in writing the appendix to "the romany rye," he looked back on his travels in spain as on a campaign: "it is true he went to spain with the colours of that society on his hat--oh! the blood glows in his veins! oh! the marrow awakes in his old bones when he thinks of what he accomplished in spain in the cause of religion and civilisation with the colours of that society on his hat, and its weapon in his hand, even the sword of the word of god; how with that weapon he hewed left and right, making the priests fly before him, and run away squeaking: 'vaya! que demonio es este!' ay, and when he thinks of the plenty of bible swords which he left behind him, destined to prove, and which have already proved, pretty calthrops in the heels of popery. 'hallo! batuschca,' he exclaimed the other night, on reading an article in a newspaper; 'what do you think of the present doings in spain? your old friend the zingaro, the gitano who rode about spain, to say nothing of galicia, with the greek buchini behind him as his squire, had a hand in bringing them about; there are many brave spaniards connected with the present movement who took bibles from his hands, and read them and profited by them." he was as sure in as in of the diabolic power and intention of popery, that "unrelenting fiend," whose secrets few, he said, knew more than himself. { a} in the gladness of his now fully exerted powers of body and mind, travelling in wild country and observing and conflicting with men, he adopted not merely the unctuous phraseology of "i am at present, thanks be to the lord, comfortable and happy," { b} but a more attractive religious arrogance. "that i am an associate of gypsies and fortune-tellers i do not deny," he says, "and why should i be ashamed of their company when my master mingled with publicans and thieves." { c} he painted himself as a possible martyr among the wild catholics, a st. stephen. when he suffered at the same time from hardship and the society's disfavour, he exclaimed: "it was god's will that i, who have risked all and lost almost all in the cause, be taunted, suspected, and the sweat of agony and tears which i have poured out be estimated at the value of the water of the ditch or the moisture which exudes from rotten dung. but i murmur not, and hope i shall at all times be willing to bow to the dispensations of the almighty." { d} he exulted in melodramatic nature, in the sublime of salvator rosa, in the desperate, wild, and strange. his very prayers, as reported by himself to the secretary, distressed the society because they were "passionate." true, he could sometimes, under the inspiration of the respectable secretary, write like a perfect middle-class english christian. he condemned the sunday amusements of hamburg, for example, remarking that "england, with all her faults, has still some regard to decency, and will not tolerate such a shameful display of vice" (as rope-dancing) "in so sacred a season, when a decent cheerfulness is the freest form in which the mind or countenance ought to invest themselves." { a} he argued against the translator of the bible into manchu that concessions should not be made to a chinese way of thought, because it was the object of the society to wean the chinese from their own customs and observances, not to encourage them. but the opposite extreme was more congenial to borrow. he would go to the market place in a remote spanish village and display his testaments on the outspread horsecloth, crying: "peasants, peasants, i bring you the word of god at a cheap price." { b} he would disguise himself, travelling with a sack of testaments on his donkey; and when a woman asked if it was soap he had, he answered: "yes; it is soap to wash souls clean." this was the man to understand peter williams, the welsh preacher who had committed the sin against the holy ghost and wandered about preaching and refusing a roof. neither must it be forgotten that this was the man who, in a conversation not reported to the bible society, said: "what befalls my body or soul was written in a _gabicote_ a thousand years before the foundation of the world." borrow was only seven weeks in getting so far as to be able to translate from manchu, though it had been said, as he pointed out, that the language took five or six years to acquire. it cost him an even shorter time to acquire the dialect of his employers, for in less than a month after he had retired to norwich to learn manchu, he was writing thus: "revd. and dear sir,--i have just received your communication, and notwithstanding it is sunday morning, and the bells with their loud and clear voices are calling me to church, i have sat down to answer it by return of post. . . . "return my kind and respected friend, mr. brandram, my best thanks for his present of 'the gypsies' advocate,' and assure him that, next to the acquirement of mandchou, the conversion and enlightening of those interesting people occupy the principal place in my mind. . . . { } never had his linguistic power a greater or more profitable triumph than in this acquisition. as this was probably a dialect not unknown at earlham, norwich, and oulton, among people whom he loved, respected, or beheld successful, the difficulty of the task was a little decreased. thurtell and haggart had passed away, petulengro had not yet reappeared. there was no one to tell him that he was living in a country and an age that were afterwards to appear among the most ignorant and cruel on record. he himself had not yet discovered the "gentility-nonsense," nor did he ever discover that gentility was of the same family, if it was not an albinism of the same species, as pious and oily respectability. so delighted was he with the new dialect that he rolled it on his tongue to the confusion of habitues, who had to rap him over the knuckles for speaking of becoming "useful to the deity, to man, and to himself." in july, , borrow was appointed, with a salary of pounds a year and expenses, to go to st. petersburg, to help in editing a manchu translation of the new testament, or transcribing and collating a translation of the old, accompanied by a warning against "a tone of confidence in speaking of yourself" in such a phrase as "useful to the deity, to man, and to yourself." borrow accepted the correction, and norwich laughed at him in his new suit. at the end of july he sailed, and as at this time he had no objection to gentility he regretted the end of his passage with so many "genteel, well-bred and intelligent passengers," though he had suffered from sea-sickness, followed by "the horrors." st. petersburg he thought the finest of the many capitals he had seen. he made the acquaintance of several men who could help him with their learning and their books, and above all he gained the friendship of john p. hasfeldt, a dane, a little older than himself, who was interpreter to the danish legation and teacher of european languages, evidently a man after borrow's own heart, with his opinion that "the greater part of those products of art, called 'the learned,' would not be able to earn a living if our lord were not a guardian of fools." the copying of the old testament was finished by the end of the year, without having prevented borrow from profiting by his unusual facilities for the acquisition of languages. he had then to superintend, or as it fell out, to help largely with his own hands, the printing of the first manchu translation of the new testament, with type which had first to be cleansed of ten years' rust and with compositors who knew nothing of manchu. lacking almost in time to eat or to sleep he impressed the bible society by his prodigious labours under "the blessing of a kind and gracious providence watching over the execution of a work in which the wide extension of the saviour's glory is involved." he was living cheaply, suffering sometimes from "the horrors," and curing them with port wine--sending money home to his mother, bidding her to employ a maid and to read and "think as much of god as possible." nor was he doing merely what he was bound to do. for example, he translated some of the "homilies of the church of england" into russian and into manchu. he also published in st. petersburg his "targum" and "talisman," a short further collection of translations from pushkin, mickiewicz, and from russian national songs. the work was finished and formally and kindly approved by the bible society. he had proposed long before that he should distribute the books himself, wandering overland with them by lake baikal and kiakhta right to pekin; but the russian government refused a passport. dr. knapp believes that this intention of going among the tartars and overland from russia to pekin was the sole ground for his crediting himself with travels in the far east. in the flesh he had to content himself with a journey to novgorod and moscow. as he had visited the jews at hamburg so he did the gypsies at moscow. this adventure moved him to his first characteristic piece of prose, in a letter to the society. this letter, which was afterwards printed in the "athenaeum," { } and incorporated in "the zincali," mentions the gypsies who have become successful singers and married noblemen, but continues: "it is not, however, to be supposed that all the female gypsies are of this high, talented and respectable order: amongst them are many low and profligate females, who sing at taverns or at the various gardens in the neighbourhood, and whose husbands and male connexions subsist by horse jobbing and like kinds of traffic. the principal place of resort of this class is marina rotche, lying about two versts from moscow, and thither i drove, attended by a _valet de place_. upon my arriving there, the gypsies swarmed out from their tents, and from the little tradeer, or tavern, and surrounded me; standing on the seat of the caleche, i addressed them in a loud voice in the dialect of the english gypsies, with which i have some slight acquaintance. a scream of wonder instantly arose, and welcomes and greetings were poured forth in torrents of musical rommany, amongst which, however, the most prominent air was, 'ah kak mi toute karmama,' 'oh, how we love you'; for at first they supposed me to be one of their brothers, who they said, were wandering about in turkey, china, and other parts, and that i had come over the great pawnee, or water, to visit them. . . . i visited this place several times during my sojourn at moscow, and spoke to them upon their sinful manner of living, upon the advent and suffering of christ jesus, and expressed, upon my taking leave of them, a hope that they would be in a short period furnished with the word of eternal life in their own language, which they seemed to value and esteem much higher than the russian." the tone of this letter suggests that it was meant for the bible society--and a copy was addressed to them--but at this date it is possible to see in it an outline of the gypsy gentleman, very much the gentleman, the "colossal clergyman" of later days. borrow liked the russians, and for some reasons was sorry to leave them and hasfeldt in september, . but for other reasons he was glad. he would see his mother and comfort her for the loss of her elder son in november, , as he had already done to some extent by telling her that he would "endeavour to get ordained." he also would see mrs. clarke, with whom he had been corresponding for the past two years. both she and his mother had been unwilling for him to go to pekin. chapter xviii--the bible society: spain borrow's chief regret at leaving russia was that his active life was interrupted, perhaps at an end. he was dreading the old life of unprofitable study with no complete friends. but luckily, when he had only been a month in england, the bible society resolved to send him to lisbon and oporto, to look for openings for circulating the bible in portugal and perhaps in spain. after this they had thoughts of sending him to china by sea. in november, , he sailed for lisbon. spain was at this time the victim of private quarrels which had been allowed to assume public importance. king ferdinand vii. had twice been restored to an unloving people by foreign, especially english, aid. this king had for heir his brother carlos, until his fourth wife, maria christina, bore him a daughter, isabella, in ; and to secure her succession he set aside the salic law. in he died. isabella ii. was proclaimed queen, and christina regent. christinists and carlists were soon at war, and very bloody war. the english intervened, once diplomatically, once with a foreign legion. the war wavered, with success now to the carlist generals zumalacarregui and cabrera and now to the christinist espartero. there were new prime ministers about twice yearly. the parties were divided amongst themselves, and treachery was common. the only result that could always be foreseen was that the people and the country would suffer. not until did espartero finally defeat cabrera. portugal, in , had just had its eight years of civil war between the partisans of a child--maria ii.--aged seven, and her uncle, miguel, ending in the departure of miguel. borrow made a preliminary journey in the forlorn country and decided for spain instead. escaping the bullets of portuguese soldiers, he crossed the boundary at the beginning of and entered badajoz. there he met the gypsies, and put off his journey to madrid to see more of them and translate the fifteenth chapter of st. luke into their tongue. at merida he stopped again for a gypsy wedding. his guide was the gypsy, antonio lopez, who sold him the donkey which he rode as far as talavera. at madrid his business was to print the new testament in a spanish catholic translation. he had to wait; but with a new cabinet permission was obtained and arrangements for the printing were made. the revolution of la granja, which he describes in "the bible in spain," caused another delay. then, in october, after a visit to the gypsies of granada, he returned to london. he had written long letters to the bible society, and one which was combined and published in the "athenaeum" with that written from moscow. it is dated, madrid, july , , but describes his visit to badajoz on january . he says, on entering badajoz: "i instantly returned thanks to god, who had protected me during a journey of five days through the wilds of the alemtejo, the province of portugal the most infested by robbers and desperate characters, and which i had traversed with no other human companion than a lad, nearly idiotic, who was to convey back the mules which carried myself and luggage." two men were passing him in the street, and seeing the face of one he touched his arm: "i said a certain word, to which, after an exclamation of surprise, he responded in the manner i expected." they were gypsies. he continues: "they left me in haste and went about the town informing the rest that a stranger had arrived who spoke rommany as well as themselves, who had the eyes and face of a gitano, and seemed to be of the 'cratti' or blood. in less than half an hour the street before the inn was filled with the men, women and children of egypt. i went out amongst them, and my heart sank within me as i surveyed them; so much squalidness, dirt and misery i had never before seen amongst a similar number of human beings; but the worst of all was the evil expression of their countenances, denoting that they were familiar with every species of crime, and it was not long before i found that their countenances did not belie them. after they had asked me an infinity of questions, and felt my hands, face, and clothes, they returned to their homes." he stayed with them nearly three weeks, he says; about ten days, says dr. knapp. borrow continues: "the result of my observations was a firm belief that the spanish gitanos are the most vile, degraded and wretched people upon the earth. the great wickedness of these outcasts may, perhaps, be attributed to their having abandoned their wandering life and become inmates of the towns, where, to the original bad traits of their character, they have superadded the evil and vicious habits of the rabble. . . . they listened with admiration, but alas, not of the truths, the eternal truths i was telling them, but at finding that their broken jargon could be written and read; the only words of assent to the heavenly doctrine which i ever obtained, and which were rather of the negative kind, were the following, from a woman--'brother! you tell us strange things, though perhaps you do not lie; a month since i would sooner have believed these tales than that i should this day have seen one who could write rommany.' . . ." he preserves the clergyman, but deepens the gypsy stain. the "athenaeum" was "not at liberty on this occasion" to publish the name of this man whom gypsies called "brother," but apparently it would not be the name of any writer hitherto known to readers of the "athenaeum." he was a month in england, and then left for spain to print and distribute testaments. he had hardly put his feet on spanish soil than, said the marquis of santa colona, { } he "looked round, saw some gypsies lounging there, said something that the marquis could not understand, and immediately 'that man became _une grappe de gitanos_.' they hung round his neck, clung to his knees, seized his hands, kissed his feet, so that the marquis hardly liked to join his comrade again, after such close embraces by so dirty a company." at cordova he was very well received by the gypsies "on the supposition that he was one of their own race." he says in "the gypsies of spain": "as for myself, i was admitted without scruple to their private meetings, and was made a participator of their most secret thoughts. during our intercourse, some remarkable scenes occurred: one night more than twenty of us, men and women, were assembled in a long low room on the ground floor, in a dark alley or court in the old gloomy town of cordova. after the gitanos had discussed several jockey plans, and settled some private bargains amongst themselves, we all gathered round a huge brasero of flaming charcoal, and began conversing _sobre las cosas de egypto_, when i proposed that, as we had no better means of amusing ourselves, we should endeavour to turn into the calo language some piece of devotion, that we might see whether this language, the gradual decay of which i had frequently heard them lament, was capable of expressing any other matters than those which related to horses, mules, and gypsy traffic. it was in this cautious manner that i first endeavoured to divert the attention of these singular people to matters of eternal importance. my suggestion was received with acclamations, and we forthwith proceeded to the translation of the apostle's creed. i first recited in spanish, in the usual manner and without pausing, this noble confession, and then repeated it again, sentence by sentence, the gitanos translating as i proceeded. they exhibited the greatest eagerness and interest in their unwonted occupation, and frequently broke into loud disputes as to the best rendering--many being offered at the same time. in the meanwhile, i wrote down from their dictation, and at the conclusion i read aloud the translation, the result of the united wisdom of the assembly, whereupon they all raised a shout of exultation, and appeared not a little proud of the composition." in his desire to see the gypsies and the ways of the people he more than doubled his difficulties, and suffered from cold and the rudeness of the roads and of the people. but in spite of the internecine civil war he got safe to madrid. printing was begun in , and when copies were ready borrow advertised them and arranged for their distribution. he himself set out with his servant, antonio buchini, a greek of constantinople, who had served an infinity of masters, and once been a cook to the overbearing general cordova, and answered the general's sword with a pistol. they travelled to salamanca, valladolid, leon, astorga, villafranca, lugo, coruna, to santiago, vigo, and again to coruna, to ferrol, oviedo, santander, burgos, valladolid, and so back to madrid in october. he had suffered from fever, dysentery and ophthalmia on the journey. according to dr. knapp it was the most unpropitious country possible. if chosen by anything but ignorance, it must have been by whim and the unconscious desire to delight posterity and amaze dr. knapp. borrow had met, among others, benedict mol, the swiss seeker after treasure hidden in the earth under the church of san roque at st. james' of compostella. this traveller was not his only acquaintance. he formed a friendship at madrid with the spanish scholar, luis de usoz, afterwards editor of "the early spanish reformers," who became a member of the bible society, helped borrow in editing the spanish testament, and looked after his interests while he was away from madrid. at st. james' itself he made a friend and a co-operator of the old bookseller, rey romero, who knew benedict moll. borrow returned to the sale of testaments at madrid, and to his own favourite project of printing his spanish gypsy translation of the gospel of st. luke. to advertise his testaments he posted up and sent about flaming tricoloured placards. this was too much for the moderate government which had followed the liberals: the sale of testaments was stopped, and that for thirty years after. the officials had been irritated by the far graver indiscretions of another but irregular agent of the bible society, lieutenant graydon, r.n., "a fervid irish protestant." { } apparently this man had advertised bibles in valencia as to be sold at very low prices and even given away; had printed abuse of the spanish clergy and government, and had described himself as co- operating with borrow. except at madrid, the bibles and testaments in borrow's depots throughout spain were seized by the government. the books had at last to be sent out of the country, british consuls were forbidden to countenance religious agents; and in the opinion of the consul at seville, j. m. brackenbury, this was directly due to graydon's indiscretions. the society were kind to him. they cautioned him not to attack popery, but to leave the bible to speak for itself. the caution was vain, but in spite of the harm done to borrow and themselves they recalled graydon with but a qualified disavowal of his conduct. borrow did not conceal from the society his opinion that this man, with his "lunatic vagaries," had been the "evil genius" of the bible cause and of himself. the incident did no good to the already bickering relations between borrow and the rev. a. brandram, the secretary. evidently borrow's character jarred upon brandram, who took revenge by a tone of facetious cavil and several criticisms upon borrow's ways, upon his confident masculine tone, for example, his "passionate" prayer, and his confession of superstitious obedience to an ominous dream. brandram even took the trouble to remind borrow that when it came to distribution in russia his success had ended: which was true but not through any fault of his. borrow took the criticism as if applied to his spanish work also, saying: "it was unkind and unjust to taunt me with having been unsuccessful in distributing the scriptures. allow me to state that no other person under the same circumstances would have distributed the tenth part. yet had i been utterly unsuccessful, it would have been wrong to charge me with being so, after all i have undergone--and with how little of that are you acquainted." { } if borrow had been as revengeful as dr. knapp believed him, he would not have allowed brandram to escape an immortality of hate in "lavengro" or "the romany rye." borrow irritated the spanish government yet a little more by issuing his gypsy "luke," and in may, , he was illegally imprisoned in the _carcel de corte_, where he insisted upon staying until he was set free with honour and the payment of his expenses. he vindicated his position by a letter to a newspaper, pointing out that his society was neither sectarian nor political, and that he was their sole authorised agent. this led directly to the breaking of his connection with the bible society, who reprimanded him for his letter and virtually recalled him from spain. nevertheless borrow made a series of excursions into the country to sell his testaments, until in august he was definitely recalled. he returned to england, as he says himself, for "change of scene and air" after an attack of fever. he obtained a new lease from the bible society and was back in spain at the end of . early in he made further excursions with antonio lopez to sell his testaments, until he had to stop. thereupon he went to seville. he was still forming plans on behalf of the society. he wished to go to la mancha, the worst part of spain, then through saragossa and into france. at seville it was, in may, , that colonel napier met him. nobody knew who, or of what nationality, he was--this "mysterious unknown," the white-haired young man, with dark eyes of almost supernatural penetration and lustre, who gave himself out to be thirty instead of thirty-five, who spoke english, french, italian, spanish, german, and romaic to those who best understood these languages. borrow and napier rode out together to the ruins of italica: "we sat down," he says, "on a fragment of the walls; the "unknown" began to feel the vein of poetry creeping through his inward soul, and gave vent to it by reciting, with great emphasis and effect, the following well-known and beautiful lines: "cypress and ivy, weed and wallflower, grown matted and massed together, hillocks heap'd on what were chambers, arch crush'd, column strown in fragments, choked up vaults, and frescoes steep'd in subterranean damps, where the owl peep'd, deeming it midnight:--temples, baths, or halls-- pronounce who can; for all that learning reap'd from her research hath been, that these are walls." "i had been too much taken up with the scene, the verses, and the strange being who was repeating them with so much feeling, to notice the approach of a slight female figure, beautiful in the extreme, but whose tattered garments, raven hair, swarthy complexion, and flashing eyes, proclaimed her to be of the wandering tribe of gitanos. from an intuitive sense of politeness she stood with crossed arms and a slight smile on her dark and handsome countenance, until my companion had ceased, and then addressed us in the usual whining tone of supplication--'gentlemen, a little charity; god will repay it to you!' the gypsy girl was so pretty and her voice so sweet, that i involuntarily put my hand in my pocket. "'stop!' said the 'unknown.' 'do you remember what i told you of the eastern origin of these people? you shall see i am correct.' 'come here, my pretty child,' said he in moultanee, 'and tell me where are the rest of your tribe.' the girl looked astounded, and replied in the same tongue, but in broken language; when, taking him by the arm, she said in spanish: 'come, caballero, come to one who will be able to answer you'; and she led the way down among the ruins towards one of the dens formerly occupied by the wild beasts, and disclosed to us a set of beings scarcely less savage. the sombre walls of this gloomy abode were illumined by a fire, the smoke from which escaped through a deep fissure in the mossy roof, whilst the flickering flames threw a blood-red glare on the bronzed features of a group of children, two men, and a decrepit old hag who appeared busily engaged in some culinary operations. "on our entrance, the scowling glance of the males of the party, and a quick motion of the hand towards the folds of the faja (where the clasp- knife is concealed), caused in me, at least, anything but a comfortable sensation; but their hostile intentions were immediately removed by a wave of the hand from our conductress, who, leading my companion towards the sibyl, whispered something in her ear. the old crone appeared incredulous. the 'unknown' uttered one word; but that word had the effect of magic. she prostrated herself at his feet, and in an instant, from an object of suspicion, he became one of worship to the whole family, to whom on taking leave he made a handsome present, and departed with their united blessings. "i was, as the phrase goes, dying with curiosity, and as soon as we mounted our horses, exclaimed: 'where, in the name of goodness, did you pick up your acquaintance with the language of these extraordinary people?' 'some years ago, in moultan,' he replied. 'and by what means do you possess such apparent influence over them?' but the 'unknown' had already said more than he perhaps wished on the subject. he dryly replied that he had more than once owed his life to gypsies and had reason to know them well; but this was said in a tone which precluded all further queries on my part." this report is a wonderful testimony to borrow's power, for he seems to have made the colonel write almost like himself and produce a picture exactly like those which he so often draws of himself. from seville borrow took a journey of a few weeks to tangier and barbary. there he met the strongest man in tangier, one of the old moors of granada, who waved a barrel of water over his head as if it had been a quart pot. there he and his jewish servant, hayim ben attar, sold testaments, and, says he, "with humble gratitude to the lord," the blessed book was soon in the hands of most of the christians in tangier. but with an account of his first day in the city he concluded "the bible in spain." when he was back again in seville he had the society of mrs. clarke and her daughter; henrietta, who had come to spain to avoid some legal difficulties and presumably to see borrow. before the end of the engagement of borrow and mrs. clarke was announced without surprising old mrs. borrow at norwich. in november borrow wrote almost his last long letter to the bible society. he had the advantage of a singular address, being for the moment in the prison of seville, where he had been illegally thrown, after a quarrel with the alcalde over the matter of a passport. he told them how this "ruffian" quailed before his gaze of defiance. he told them how well he was treated by his fellow prisoners: {picture: the summer house, oulton cottage. photo: c. wilson, lowestoft: page .jpg} "the black-haired man who is now looking over my shoulder is the celebrated thief palacio, the most expert housebreaker and dexterous swindler in spain--in a word, the modern guzman dalfarache. the brawny man who sits by the brasero of charcoal, is salvador, the highwayman of ronda, who has committed a hundred murders. a fashionably dressed man, short and slight in person, is walking about the room: he wears immense whiskers and mustachios; he is one of that most singular race of jews of spain; he is imprisoned for counterfeiting money. he is an atheist, but like a true jew, the name which he most hates is that of christ: . . ." { } so well did borrow choose his company, even in prison. some of his letters to the society went astray at this time and he was vainly expected in england. he was able to send them a very high testimony to his discretion from the english consul at seville, and he himself reminded them that he had been "fighting with wild beasts" during this last visit. the society several times repeated his recall, but he did not return, apparently because he wished to remain with mrs. clarke in seville, and because he no longer felt himself at their beck and call. he was also at work on "the gypsies of spain." nevertheless he wrote to the society in march, , a letter which would have been remarkable from another man about to marry a wife, for he said that he wished to spend the remaining years of his life in the northern parts of china, as he thought he had a call, and still hoped "to die in the cause of my redeemer." in april he left spain with mrs. and miss clarke. fifty or sixty years later mrs. joseph pennell "saw the sign, 'g. borrow, agent of the british and foreign bible society,' high upon a house in the plaza de la constitucion, in seville." borrow was never again in spain. after reporting himself for the last time to the society, and making a suggestion which brandram answered by saying, "the door seems shut," he married mrs. clarke on april , . she had pounds a year and a home at oulton. fifteen or sixteen years later he spoke of his wife and daughter thus: "of my wife i will merely say that she is a perfect paragon of wives--can make puddings and sweets and treacle posset, and is the best woman of business in eastern anglia--of my step daughter--for such she is, though i generally call her daughter, and with good reason, seeing that she has always shown herself a daughter to me--that she has all kinds of good qualities, and several accomplishments, knowing something of conchology, more of botany, drawing capitally in the dutch style, and playing remarkably well on the guitar--not the trumpery german thing so called--but the real spanish guitar." his wife wrote letters for him, copied his manuscripts, and helped to correct his proofs. she remained at oulton, or yarmouth, while he went about; if he went to wales or ireland she sometimes accompanied him to a convenient centre and there remained while he did as he pleased. she admired him, and she appears to have become essential to his life, apart from her income, and not to have resented her position at any time, though grieved by his unconcealed melancholy. a second time he praised her in print, saying that he had an exceedingly clever wife, and allowed her "to buy and sell, carry money to the bank, draw cheques, inspect and pay tradesmen's bills, and transact all my real business, whilst i myself pore over old books, walk about the shires, discoursing with gypsies, under hedgerows, or with sober bards--in hedge alehouses." chapter xix--"the zincali" borrow and his wife and stepdaughter settled at oulton cottage before the spring of was over. this house, the property of mrs. borrow, was separated from oulton broad only by a slope of lawn, at the foot of which was a private boat. away from the house, but equally near lawn and water stood borrow's library--a little peaked octagonal summer house, with toplights and windows. the cottage is gone, but the summer house, now mantled with ivy, where he wrote "the bible in spain" and "lavengro," is still to be seen. here, too, he arranged and completed the book written "at considerable intervals during a period of nearly five years passed in spain--in moments snatched from more important pursuits--chiefly in ventas and posadas (inns), whilst wandering through the country in the arduous and unthankful task of distributing the gospel among its children,"--"the zincali: or the gypsies of spain." it was published in april, . this book is a description of gypsies in spain and wherever else he has met them, with some history, and, as borrow says himself, with "more facts than theories." it abounds in quotations from out of the way spanish books, but was by far "less the result of reading than of close observation." it is patched together from scattered notes with little order or proportion, and cannot be regarded as a whole either in intention or effect. nor is this wholly due to the odd times and places in which it was written. borrow had never before written a continuous original work of any length. he had formed no clear idea of himself, his public, or his purpose. personality was strong in him and it had to be expressed. he was full also of extraordinary observation, and this he could not afford to conceal. it was not easy to satisfy the two needs in one coherent book; he hardly tried, and he certainly did not succeed. ford described it well in his review of "the bible in spain": { } "'the gypsies of spain' was a spanish olla--a hotchpotch of the jockey tramper, philologist, and missionary. it was a thing of shreds and patches--a true book of spain; the chapters, like her bundle of unamalgamating provinces, were just held together, and no more, by the common tie of religion; yet it was strange and richly flavoured with genuine _borracha_. it was the first work of a diffident, inexperienced man, who, mistrusting his own powers, hoped to conciliate critics by leaning on spanish historians and gypsy poets." nevertheless, "the zincali" is a book that is still valuable for these two separate elements of personality and extraordinary observation. probably borrow, his publisher, and the public, regarded it chiefly as a work of information, picturesquely diversified, and this it still is, though the increase and systematization of gypsy studies are said to have superseded it. a book of spirit cannot be superseded. but pure information does not live long, and the fact that its information is inaccurate or incomplete does not rot a book like "the compleat angler" or the "georgics." thus it may happen that the first book on a subject is the best, and its successors mere treatises destined to pave the way for other treatises. "the gypsies of spain" is still read as no other book on the gypsy is read. it is still read, not only by those just infected with gypsy fever, but by men as men. it does not, indeed, survive as a whole, because it never was a whole, but there is a spirit in the best parts sufficiently strong to carry the reader on over the rest. to-day very few will do more than smile when borrow says of the gypsies, that there can be no doubt "they are human beings and have immortal souls," and that the chief object of his book is to "draw the attention of the christian philanthropist towards them, especially that degraded and unhappy portion of them, the gitanos of spain." in many of the christian public probably felt a slight glow of satisfaction at starting on a book that brought the then certain millenium, of a christian and english cast, definitely nearer. probably they liked to know that this missionary called pugilistic combats "disgraceful and brutalising exhibitions"; and they were almost as certainly, as we are to-day, delighted with the descriptions that followed, because it brought for the first time clearly before them a real prize-fighting scene, and the author, a terrible child of fourteen, looking on--"why should i hide the truth?" says he. this excellent moral tone accompanied the reader of with satisfaction to the end. for example, borrow describes the gypsies at tarifa swindling a country man and woman out of their donkey. when he sees them being treated and fondled by their intending robbers, he exclaims: "behold, poor humanity, thought i to myself, in the hands of devils; in this manner are human souls ensnared to destruction by the fiends of the pit." when he sees them departing penniless and without their donkey, the woman bitterly lamenting it, he comments: "upon the whole, however, i did not much pity them. the woman was certainly not the man's wife. the labourer had probably left his village with some strolling harlot, bringing with him the animal which had previously served to support himself and a family." borrow was a man who pronounced the bible to be "the wonderful book which is capable of resolving every mystery." he was a man, furthermore, who called sorcery simply "a thing impossible," and thus addressed a writer on chiromancy: "we . . . believe that the lines of the hand have as little connection with the events of life as with the liver and stomach, notwithstanding aristotle, who you forget was a heathen and cared as little for the scriptures as the gitanos, whether male or female." another satisfactory side to borrow's public character, as revealed in "the zincali," was his contempt for "other nations," such as spain--"a country whose name has long and justly been considered as synonymous with every species of ignorance and barbarism." his voice rises when he says that "avarice has always been the dominant passion in spanish minds, their rage for money being only to be compared to the wild hunger of wolves for horseflesh in the time of winter; next to avarice, envy of superior talent and accomplishment is the prevailing passion." these were the people whom he had gone to convert. his contempt for those who were not middle-class englishmen seemed unmitigated. speaking of the gypsies, to whom the schools were open and the laws kinder, he points out that, nevertheless, they remain jockeys and blacksmiths, though it is true they have in part given up their wandering life. but "much," he says, "will have been accomplished if, after the lapse of a hundred years, one hundred human beings shall have been evolved from the gypsy stock who shall prove sober, honest, and useful members of society," _i.e._, resembling the spaniards whom he so condemned. but if men love a big fellow at the street corner bellowing about sin and the wrath to come, they love him better if he was a black sinner before he became white as the driven snow. borrow reprimanded spaniard and gypsy, but he also knew them: there is even a suspicion that he liked them, though in his public black-coated capacity he had to condemn them and regret that their destiny was perdition. had he not said, in his preface, that he had known the gypsies for twenty years and that they treated him well because they thought him a gypsy? and in another place referred to the time when he lived with the english gypsies? had he not, in his introductions, spoken of "my brethren, the smiths," a phrase then cryptic and only to be explained by revealing his sworn brotherhood with ambrose smith, the jasper petulengro of later books? he had said, moreover, in a perfectly genuine tone, with no trace of missionary declamation: "after the days of the great persecution in england against the gypsies, there can be little doubt that they lived a right merry and tranquil life, wandering about and pitching their tents wherever inclination led them: indeed, i can scarcely conceive any human condition more enviable than gypsy life must have been in england during the latter part of the seventeenth, and the whole of the eighteenth century, which were likewise the happy days for englishmen in general; there was peace and plenty in the land, a contented population, and everything went well." if a man wishes to condemn the seven deadly sins we tolerate him if in the process they are sufficiently well described. if borrow described the tinker family as wretched, and their donkey as miserable, he added, "though life, seemingly so wretched, has its charms for these outcasts, who live without care and anxiety, without a thought beyond the present hour, and who sleep as sound in ruined posadas and ventas, or in ravines amongst rocks and pines, as the proudest grandee in his palace at seville or madrid." if he condemned superstition, he yet thought it possibly "founded on a physical reality"; he regarded the moon as the true "evil eye," and bade men "not sleep uncovered beneath the smile of the moon, for her glance is poisonous, and produces insupportable itching in the eye, and not infrequently blindness." if he believed in the immortality of the soul, he did not disdain to know the vendor of poisons who was a gypsy. if he stayed three weeks in badajoz because he knew he should never meet any people "more in need of a little christian exhortation" than the gypsies, he did not fill his pages with three weeks of christian exhortation, but told the story of the gypsy soldier, antonio--how he recognised as a gypsy the enemy who was about to kill him, and saved himself from the uplifted bayonet by crying "zincalo, zincalo!" and then, having been revived by him, sat for hours with his late enemy, who said: "let the dogs fight and tear each other's throats till they are all destroyed, what matters it to the zincali? they are not of our blood, and shall that be shed for them?" this man who, if he had his way, would have washed his face in the blood of the busne (those who are not gypsies), this man called borrow "brother!" if borrow distributed testaments, he knew little more of the recipients than a bolt from the blue, or if he did he cared to tell but little. that little is the story of the gypsy soldier, chaleco, who came to him at madrid in with a copy of the testament. he told his story from his cradle up; he imposed himself on borrow's hospitality, eating "like a wolf of the sierra," and drinking in proportion. borrow could only escape from him by dining out. when borrow was imprisoned the fellow drew his sword at the news and vowed to murder the prime minister "for having dared to imprison his brother." in what follows, borrow reveals in a consummate manner his power of drawing into his vicinity extraordinary events: "on my release, i did not revisit my lodgings for some days, but lived at an hotel. i returned late one afternoon, with my servant francisco, a basque of hernani, who had served me with the utmost fidelity during my imprisonment, which he had voluntarily shared with me. the first person i saw on entering was the gypsy soldier, seated by the table, whereon were several bottles of wine which he had ordered from the tavern, of course on my account. he was smoking, and looked savage and sullen; perhaps he was not much pleased with the reception he had experienced. he had forced himself in, and the woman of the house sat in a corner looking upon him with dread. i addressed him, but he would scarcely return an answer. at last he commenced discoursing with great volubility in gypsy and latin. i did not understand much of what he said. his words were wild and incoherent, but he repeatedly threatened some person. the last bottle was now exhausted--he demanded more. i told him in a gentle manner that he had drunk enough. he looked on the ground for some time, then slowly, and somewhat hesitatingly, drew his sword and laid it on the table. it was become dark. i was not afraid of the fellow, but i wished to avoid any thing unpleasant. i called to francisco to bring lights, and obeying a sign which i made him, he sat down at the table. the gypsy glared fiercely upon him--francisco laughed, and began with great glee to talk in basque, of which the gypsy understood not a word. the basques, like all tartars, and such they are, are paragons of fidelity and good nature; they are only dangerous when outraged, when they are terrible indeed. francisco to the strength of a giant joined the disposition of a lamb. he was beloved even in the patio of the prison, where he used to pitch the bar and wrestle with the murderers and felons, always coming off victor. he continued speaking basque. the gypsy was incensed; and, forgetting the languages in which, for the last hour, he had been speaking, complained to francisco of his rudeness in speaking any tongue but castilian. the basque replied by a loud carcajada, and slightly touched the gypsy on the knee. the latter sprang up like a mine discharged, seized his sword, and, retreating a few steps, made a desperate lunge at francisco. "the basques, next to the pasiegos, are the best cudgel-players in spain, and in the world. francisco held in his hand part of a broomstick, which he had broken in the stable, whence he had just ascended. with the swiftness of lightning he foiled the stroke of chaleco, and, in another moment, with a dexterous blow, struck the sword out of his hand, sending it ringing against the wall. "the gypsy resumed his seat and his cigar. he occasionally looked at the basque. his glances were at first atrocious, but presently changed their expression, and appeared to me to become prying and eagerly curious. he at last arose, picked up his sword, sheathed it, and walked slowly to the door, when there he stopped, turned round, advanced close to francisco, and looked him steadfastly in the face. 'my good fellow,' said he, 'i am a gypsy, and can read baji. do you know where you will be this time to- morrow?' { } then laughing like a hyena, he departed, and i never saw him again. "at that time on the morrow, francisco was on his death-bed. he had caught the jail fever, which had long raged in the carcel de la corte, where i was imprisoned. in a few days he was buried, a mass of corruption, in the campo santo of madrid." having attracted the event, he recorded it with a vividness well set off by his own nonchalance. again and again he was to repeat this triumph of depicting the wild, and the wild in a condition of activity and often fury. his success is all the greater because it is unexpected. he sets out "to direct the attention of the public towards the gypsies; but he hopes to be able to do so without any romantic appeals on their behalf." he is far from having a romantic tone. he wields, as a rule, with any amount of dignity the massive style of the early victorian "quarterly review" and lane's so-called "arabian nights." thus, speaking of gypsy fortune- tellers, he says: "their practice chiefly lies among females, the portion of the human race most given to curiosity and credulity." sentences like this always remind me of lord melbourne's indignation at the thought of religion intruding on private life. his indignation is obviously of the same period as the sentence: "among the zingari are not a few who deal in precious stones, and some who vend poisons; and the most remarkable individual whom it has been my fortune to encounter amongst the gypsies, whether of the eastern or western world, was a person who dealt in both these articles." a style like this resembles a paunchy man who can be relied on not to pick the daisies. at times borrow writes as if he were translating, as in "the anvil rings beneath the thundering stroke, hour succeeds hour, and still endures the hard sullen toil." he adds a little vanity of no value by a biblical echo now and again, as in the clause: "and it came to pass, moreover, that the said fajardo . . . " or in "and the chief of that camp, even mr. petulengro, stood before the encampment. . . ." this is a style for information, instruction, edification, and intervals of sleep. it is the style of an age, a class, a sect, not of an individual. deeds and not words are what count in it. only by big, wild, or extraordinary things can it be compelled to a semblance of life. borrow gives it such things a hundred times, and they help one another to be effective. the reader does not forget the gypsies of granada: "many of them reside in caves scooped in the sides of the ravines which lead to the higher regions of the alpujarras, on a skirt of which stands granada. a common occupation of the gitanos of granada is working in iron, and it is not infrequent to find these caves tenanted by gypsy smiths and their families, who ply the hammer and forge in the bowels of the earth. to one standing at the mouth of the cave, especially at night, they afford a picturesque spectacle. gathered round the forge, their bronzed and naked bodies, illuminated by the flame, appear like figures of demons; while the cave, with its flinty sides and uneven roof, blackened by the charcoal vapours which hover about it in festoons, seems to offer no inadequate representation of fabled purgatory." the picture of the gitana of seville hands on some of its own power to the quieter pages, and at length, with a score of other achievements of the same solid kind, kindles well-nigh every part of the shapeless book. i shall quote it at length: "if there be one being in the world who, more than another, deserves the title of sorceress (and where do you find a word of greater romance and more thrilling interest?), it is the gypsy female in the prime and vigour of her age and ripeness of her understanding--the gipsy wife, the mother of two or three children. mention to me a point of devilry with which that woman is not acquainted. she can at any time, when it suits her, show herself as expert a jockey as her husband, and he appears to advantage in no other character, and is only eloquent when descanting on the merits of some particular animal; but she can do much more; she is a prophetess, though she believes not in prophecy; she is a physician, though she will not taste her own philters; she is a procuress, though she is not to be procured; she is a singer of obscene songs, though she will suffer no obscene hands to touch her; and though no one is more tenacious of the little she possesses, she is a cutpurse and a shoplifter whenever opportunity shall offer. . . . observe, for example, the gitana, even her of seville. "she is standing before the portals of a large house in one of the narrow moorish streets of the capital of andalusia; through the grated iron door, she looks in upon the court; it is paved with small marble slabs of almost snowy whiteness; in the middle is a fountain distilling limpid water, and all around there is a profusion of macetas, in which flowering plants and aromatic shrubs are growing, and at each corner there is an orange tree, and the perfume of the azahar may be distinguished; you hear the melody of birds from a small aviary beneath the piazza which surrounds the court, which is surrounded by a toldo or linen awning, for it is the commencement of may, and the glorious sun of andalusia is burning with a splendour too intense for its rays to be borne with impunity. it is a fairy scene such as nowhere meets the eye but at seville, or perhaps at fez and shiraz, in the palaces of the sultan and the shah. the gypsy looks through the iron-grated door, and beholds, seated near the fountain, a richly dressed dame and two lovely delicate maidens; they are busied at their morning's occupation, intertwining with their sharp needles the gold and silk on the tambour; several female attendants are seated behind. the gypsy pulls the bell, when is heard the soft cry of 'quien es'; the door, unlocked by means of a string, recedes upon its hinges, when in walks the gitana, the witch-wife of multan, with a look such as the tiger-cat casts when she stealeth from her jungle into the plain. "yes, well may you exclaim, 'ave maria purissima,' ye dames and maidens of seville, as she advances towards you; she is not of yourselves, she is not of your blood, she or her fathers have walked to your clime from a distance of three thousand leagues. she has come from the far east, like the three enchanted kings to cologne; but unlike them she and her race have come with hate and not with love. she comes to flatter, and to deceive, and to rob, for she is a lying prophetess, and a she-thug; she will greet you with blessings which will make your heart rejoice, but your heart's blood would freeze, could you hear the curses which to herself she murmurs against you; for she says, that in her children's veins flows the dark blood of the 'husbands,' whilst in those of yours flows the pale tide of the 'savages,' and therefore she would gladly set her foot on all your corses first poisoned by her hands. for all her love--and she can love--is for the romas; and all her hate--and who can hate like her?--is for the busnees; for she says that the world would be a fair world were there no busnees, and if the romamiks could heat their kettles undisturbed at the foot of the olive trees; and therefore she would kill them all if she could and if she dared. she never seeks the houses of the busnees but for the purpose of prey; for the wild animals of the sierra do not more abhor the sight of man than she abhors the countenances of the busnees. she now comes to prey upon you and to scoff at you. will you believe her words? fools! do you think that the being before ye has any sympathy for the like of you? "she is of the middle stature, neither strongly nor slightly built, and yet her every movement denotes agility and vigour. as she stands erect before you, she appears like a falcon about to soar, and you are almost tempted to believe that the power of volation is hers; and were you to stretch forth your hand to seize her, she would spring above the house- tops like a bird. her face is oval, and her features are regular but somewhat hard and coarse, for she was born amongst rocks in a thicket, and she has been wind-beaten and sun-scorched for many a year, even like her parents before her; there is many a speck upon her cheek, and perhaps a scar, but no dimples of love; and her brow is wrinkled over, though she is yet young. her complexion is more than dark, for it is almost that of a mulatto; and her hair, which hangs in long locks on either side of her face, is black as coal, and coarse as the tail of a horse, from which it seems to have been gathered. "there is no female eye in seville can support the glance of hers, so fierce and penetrating, and yet so artful and sly, is the expression of their dark orbs; her mouth is fine and almost delicate, and there is not a queen on the proudest throne between madrid and moscow who might not, and would not, envy the white and even rows of teeth which adorn it, which seem not of pearl but of the purest elephant's bone of multan. she comes not alone; a swarthy two-year old bantling clasps her neck with one arm, its naked body half extant from the coarse blanket which, drawn round her shoulders, is secured at her bosom by a skewer. though tender of age it looks wicked and sly, like a veritable imp of roma. huge rings of false gold dangle from wide slits in the lobes of her ears; her nether garments are rags, and her feet are cased in hempen sandals. such is the wandering gitana, such is the witch-wife of multan, who has come to spae the fortune of the sevillian countess and her daughters. "'o may the blessing of egypt light upon your head, you high-born lady! (may an evil end overtake your body, daughter of a busnee harlot!) and may the same blessing await the two fair roses of the nile here flowering by your side! (may evil moors seize them and carry them across the water!) o listen to the words of the poor woman who is come from a distant country; she is of a wise people, though it has pleased the god of the sky to punish them for their sins by sending them to wander through the world. they denied shelter to the majari, whom you call the queen of heaven, and to the son of god, when they flew to the land of egypt, before the wrath of the wicked king; it is said that they even refused them a draught of the sweet waters of the great river when the blessed two were athirst. o you will say that it was a heavy crime; and truly so it was, and heavily has the lord punished the egyptians. he has sent us a-wandering, poor as you see, with scarcely a blanket to cover us. o blessed lady (accursed be thy dead as many as thou mayest have), we have no money to purchase us bread; we have only our wisdom with which to support ourselves and our poor hungry babes; when god took away their silks from the egyptians, and their gold from the egyptians, he left them their wisdom as a resource that they might not starve. o who can read the stars like the egyptians? and who can read the lines of the palm like the egyptians? the poor woman read in the stars that there was a rich ventura for all of this goodly house, so she followed the bidding of the stars and came to declare it. o blessed lady (i defile thy dead corse), your husband is at granada, fighting with king ferdinand against the wild corahai! (may an evil ball smite him and split his head!) within three months he shall return with twenty captive moors, round the neck of each a chain of gold. (god grant that when he enter the house a beam may fall upon him and crush him!) and within nine months after his return god shall bless you with a fair chabo, the pledge for which you have sighed so long! (accursed be the salt placed in its mouth in the church when it is baptized!) your palm, blessed lady, your palm, and the palms of all i see here, that i may tell you all the rich ventura which is hanging over this good house; (may evil lightning fall upon it and consume it!) but first let me sing you a song of egypt, that the spirit of the chowahanee may descend more plenteously upon the poor woman.' "her demeanour now instantly undergoes a change. hitherto she has been pouring forth a lying and wild harangue, without much flurry or agitation of manner. her speech, it is true, has been rapid, but her voice has never been raised to a very high key; but she now stamps on the ground, and placing her hands on her hips, she moves quickly to the right and left, advancing and retreating in a sidelong direction. her glances become more fierce and fiery, and her coarse hair stands erect on her head, stiff as the prickles of the hedgehog; and now she commences clapping her hands, and uttering words of an unknown tongue, to a strange and uncouth tune. the tawny bantling seems inspired with the same fiend, and, foaming at the mouth, utters wild sounds, in imitation of its dam. still more rapid become the sidelong movements of the gitana. movements! she springs, she bounds, and at every bound she is a yard above the ground. she no longer bears the child in her bosom; she plucks it from thence, and fiercely brandishes it aloft, till at last, with a yell, she tosses it high into the air, like a ball, and then, with neck and head thrown back, receives it, as it falls, on her hands and breast, extracting a cry from the terrified beholders. is it possible she can be singing? yes, in the wildest style of her people; and here is a snatch of the song, in the language of roma, which she occasionally screams: "en los sastos de yesque plai me diquelo, doscusanas de sonacai terelo,-- corojai diquelo abillar, y ne asislo chapescar, chapescar." "on the top of a mountain i stand, with a crown of red gold in my hand,-- wild moors come trooping o'er the lea, o how from their fury shall i flee, flee, flee? o how from their fury shall i flee? such was the gitana in the days of ferdinand and isabella, and much the same is she now in the days of isabel and christina. . . ." here, it is true, there is a substantial richly-coloured and strange subject matter, such as could hardly be set down in any way or by anyone without attracting the attention. borrow makes it do more than this. the word "extant" may offend a little, but the writer can afford many such blemishes, for he has life in his pen. he is, as it were himself substantial, richly-coloured, strange and with big strokes and splashes he suggests the thing itself. there have been writers since borrow's day who have thought to use words so subtly that they are equivalent to things, but in the end their words remain nothing but words. borrow uses language like a man, and we forget his words on account of the vividness of the things which they do not so much create as evoke. i do not mean that it can be called unconscious art, for it is naively conscious and delighting in itself. the language is that of an orator, a man standing up and addressing a mass in large and emphatic terms. he succeeds not only in evoking things that are very much alive, but in suggesting an artist that is their equal, instead of one, who like so many more refined writers, is a more or less pathetic admirer of living things. in this he resembles byron. it may not be the highest form of art, but it is the most immediate and disturbing and genial in its effect. finally, the whole book has body. it can be browsed on. it does not ask a particular mood, being itself the result of no one mood, but of a great part of one man's life. turn over half a dozen pages and a story, or a picture, or a bit of costume, or of superstition, will invariably be the reward. it reads already like a book rather older than it really is, but not because it has faded. there was nothing in it to fade, being too hard, massive and unvarnished. it remains alive, capable of surviving the gypsies except in so far as they live within it and its fellow books. chapter xx--"the bible in spain" in "the zincali" borrow used some of his private notes and others supplied by spanish friends, together with parts of letters to the bible society. it used to be supposed that "the bible in spain" was made up almost entirely from these letters. but this has now been disproved by the newly published "letters of george borrow to the bible society." { a} these letters are about half the length of "the bible in spain," and yet only about a third part of them was used by borrow in writing that book. some of his letters were never received by the society and had probably been lost on the way. but this was more of a disaster to the society than to borrow. he kept journals { b} from which his letters were probably copied or composed; and he was able, for example, in july, , to send the society a detailed and dated account of his entry into spain in january, and his intercourse with the gypsies of badajoz. it is also possible that the letters lent to him by the society were far more numerous than those returned by him. he missed little that could have been turned to account, unless it was the suggestion that if he knew the country his safest way from seville to madrid was to go afoot in the dress of beggar or gypsy, and the remark that in tangier one of his principal associates was a black slave, whose country was only three days journey from timbuctoo. { c} he had already in planned to write "a small volume" on what he was about to see and hear in spain, and it must have been from notes or full journals kept with this view that he drew for "the zincali" and still more for "the bible in spain." he wrote his journals and letters very much as cobbett his "rural rides," straight after days in the saddle. except when he was presenting a matter of pure business he was not much troubled by the fact that he was addressing his employers, the bible society. he did not always begin "bible" with a capital b, an error corrected by mr. darlow, his editor. he prefixed "revd. and dear sir," and thought little more about them unless to add such a phrase as: "a fact which i hope i may be permitted to mention with gladness and with decent triumph in the lord." he did not, however, scorn to make a favourable misrepresentation of his success, as for example in the interview with mendizabal, which was reduced probably to the level of the facts in its book form. the society were not always pleased with his frankness and confidence, and the secretary complained of things which were inconvenient to be read aloud in a pious assembly, less concerned with sinners than with repentance, and not easily convinced by the improbable. he sent them, for example, after a specimen gypsy translation of the gospel of st. luke and of the lord's prayer, "sixteen specimens of the horrid curses in use amongst the spanish gypsies," with translations into english. these do not re-appear either in "the bible in spain" or in the edition of borrow's letters to the society. he spared them, apparently, the story of benedict moll and many another good thing that was meant for mankind. i should be inclined to think that a very great part of "the bible in spain" was written as the letters were, on the spot. either it was not sent to the society for fear of loss, or if copied and sent to them, it was lost on the way or never returned by borrow after he had used it in writing the book, for the letters are just as careful in most parts as the book, and the book is just as fresh as the letters. when he wrote to the society, he said that he told the schoolmaster "the almighty would never have inspired his saints with a desire to write what was unintelligible to the great mass of mankind"; in "the bible in spain" he said: "it [_i.e._, the bible] would never have been written if not calculated by itself to illume the minds of all classes of mankind." continuous letters or journals would be more likely to suit borrow's purpose than notes such as he took in his second tour to wales and never used. notes made on the spot are very likely to be disproportionate, to lay undue stress on something that should be allowed to recede, and would do so if left to memory; and once made they are liable to misinterpretation if used after intervals of any length. but the flow and continuity of letters insist on some proportion and on truth at least to the impression of the day, and a balance is ensured between the scene or the experience on the one hand and the observer on the other. "the zincali" was not published before borrow realised what a treasure he had deposited with the bible society, and not long afterwards he obtained the loan of his letters to make a new book on his travels in spain. borrow's own account, in his preface to the second edition of "the zincali," is that the success of that book, and "the voice not only of england but of the greater part of europe" proclaiming it, astonished him in his "humble retreat" at oulton. he was, he implies, inclined to be too much elated. then the voice of a critic--whom we know to have been richard ford--told him not to believe all he heard, but to try again and avoid all his second hand stuff, his "gypsy poetry, dry laws, and compilations from dull spanish authors." and so, he says, he began work in the winter, but slowly, and on through summer and autumn and another winter, and into another spring and summer, loitering and being completely idle at times, until at last he went to his summer house daily and finished the book. but as a matter of fact "the zincali" had no great success in either public or literary esteem, and ford's criticism was passed on the manuscript, not the printed book. borrow and his wife took about six months to prepare the letters for publication as a book. he took great pains with the writing and only worked when he was in the mood. his health was not quite good, as he implies in the preface to "the zincali," and he tried "the water system" and also "lessons in singing," to cure his indigestion and sleeplessness. he had the advantage of ford's advice, to avoid fine writing, mere description, poetry and learned books, and to give plenty of "racy, real, genuine scenes, and the more out of the way the better," stories of adventure, extraordinary things, prisons, low life, gypsies, and so on. he was now drawing entirely from "his own well," and when the book was out ford took care to remark that the author had cast aside the learned books which he had used as swimming corks in the "zincali," and now "leaped boldly into the tide" unaided. john murray's reader sent back the manuscript to be revised and augmented, and after this was done, "the bible in spain" was published, at the end of , when borrow was thirty- nine. "the bible in spain" was praised and moreover purchased by everyone. it was translated into french, american, russian, and printed in america. the "athenaeum" found it a "genuine book"; the "examiner" said that "apart from its adventurous interest, its literary merit is extraordinary." ford compared it with an old spanish ballad, "going from incident to incident, bang, bang, bang!" and with gil blas, and with bunyan. ford, it must be remembered, had ridden over the same tracks as borrow in spain, but before him, and had written his own book with a combination of learning and gusto that is one of the rarest of literary virtues. like borrow he wrote fresh from the thing itself when possible, asserting for example that the fat of the hams of montanches, when boiled, "looked like melted topazes, and the flavour defies language, although we have dined on one this very day, in order to secure accuracy and undeniable prose." for the benefit of the public ford pointed out that "the bible and its distribution have been _the_ business of his existence; whenever moral darkness brooded, there, the bible in his hand, he forced his way." when borrow was actually in spain he was much influenced by the conditions of the moment. the sun of spain would shine so that he prized it above english civilization. the anarchy and wildness of spain at another time would make him hate both men and land. but more lasting than joy in the sun and misery at the sight of misery was the feeling that he was "adrift in spain, the land of old renown, the land of wonder and mystery, with better opportunities of becoming acquainted with its strange secrets and peculiarities than, perhaps, ever yet were afforded to any individual, certainly to a foreigner." when he entered it, by crossing a brook, out of portugal, he shouted the spanish battle-cry in ecstasy, and in the end he described his five years in spain as, "if not the most eventful"--he cannot refrain from that vainglorious dark hint--yet "the most happy years" of his existence. spain was to him "the most magnificent country in the world": it was also "one of the few countries in europe where poverty is not treated with contempt, and i may add, where the wealthy are not blindly idolized." his book is a song of wild spain when spain _was_ spain. borrow, as we already know, had in him many of the powers that go to make a great book, yet "the zincali" was not a great book. the important power developed or employed later which made "the bible in spain" a great book was the power of narrative. the writing of those letters from spain to the bible society had taught him or discovered in him the instinct for proportion and connection which is the simplest, most inexplicable and most essential of literary gifts. with the help of this he could write narrative that should suggest and represent the continuity of life. he could pause for description or dialogue or reflection without interrupting this stream of life. nothing need be, and nothing was, alien to the narrator with this gift; for his writing would now assimilate everything and enrich itself continually. the reader could follow, as he preferred, the bible distribution in particular, or the gypsies, or borrow himself, through the long ways and dense forests of the book, and through the moral darkness of spain. it could be treated as a pious book, and as such it was attacked by catholics, as "lavengro" still is. for certainly borrow made no secret of his piety. when "a fine young man of twenty-seven, the only son of a widowed mother . . . the best sailor on board, and beloved by all who were acquainted with him" was swept off the ship in which borrow was sailing, and drowned, as he had dreamed he would be, the author exclaimed: "truly wonderful are the ways of providence!" when a spanish schoolmaster suggested that the testament was unintelligible without notes, borrow informed him that on the contrary the notes were far more difficult, and "it would never have been written if not calculated of itself to illume the minds of all classes of mankind." the bible was, in his published words, "the well-head of all that is useful and conducive to the happiness of society"; and he told the poor catalans that their souls' welfare depended on their being acquainted with the book he was selling at half the cost price. he could write not unlike the author of "the dairyman's daughter," as when he exclaimed: "oh man, man, seek not to dive into the mystery of moral good and evil; confess thyself a worm, cast thyself on the earth, and murmur with thy lips in the dust, jesus, jesus!" he thought the pope "the head minister of satan here on earth," and inspired partly by contempt of catholics, he declared that "no people in the world entertain sublimer notions of the uncreated eternal god than the moors . . . and with respect to christ, their ideas even of him are much more just than those of the papists." and he said to the face of the spanish prime minister: "it is a pleasant thing to be persecuted for the gospel's sake." nor was this pure cant; for he meant at least this, that he loved conflict and would be fearless and stubborn in battle; and, as he puts it, he was "cast into prison for the gospel's sake." in , no doubt, what first recommended this book to so many thousands was the protestant fervour and purpose of the book, and the romantic reputation of spain. at this day borrow's bible distribution is mainly of antiquarian and sectarian interest. we should not estimate the darkness of madrid by the number of testaments there in circulation and daily use, nor on the other hand should we fear, like borrow, to bring them into contempt by making them too common. yet his missionary work makes the necessary backbone of the book. he was, as he justly said, "no tourist, no writer of books of travels." his work brought him adventure as no mere wandering could have done. what is more, the man's methods are still entertaining to those who care nothing about the distribution itself. where he found the remains of a robber's camp he left a new testament and some tracts. to carry the bibles over the flinty hills of galicia and the asturias he bought "a black andalusian stallion of great power and strength, . . . unbroke, savage and furious": the cargo, he says, would tame the animal. he fixed his advertisement on the church porch at pitiegua, announcing the sale of testaments at salamanca. he had the courage without the ferocity of enthusiasm, and in the cause of the bible society he saw and did things which little concerned it, which in fact displeased it, but keep this book alive with a great stir and shout of life, with a hundred pages where we are shown what the poet meant by "forms more real than living men." we are shown the unrighteous to the very life. what matters it then if the author professes the opinion that "the friendship of the unrighteous is never of long duration"? nevertheless, these pious ejaculations are not without their value in the composition of the author's amazing character. borrow came near to being a perfect traveller. for he was, on the one hand, a man whose individuality was carved in clear bold lines, who had a manner and a set of opinions as remarkable as his appearance. thus he was bound to come into conflict with men wherever he went: he would bring out their manners and opinions, if they had any. but on the other hand he had abounding curiosity. he was bold but not rude: on the contrary he was most vigilantly polite. he took snuff, though he detested it; he avoided politics as much as possible: "no, no!" he said, "i have lived too long with _romany chals and petulengres_ to be of any politics save gypsy politics," in spite of what he had said in ' and was to say again in ' . when he and the gypsy antonio came to jaraicejo they separated by antonio's advice. the gypsy got through the town unchallenged by the guard, though not unnoticed by the townspeople. but borrow was stopped and asked by a man of the national guard whether he came with the gypsy, to which he answered, "do i look a person likely to keep company with gypsies?" though, says he, he probably did. then the national asked for his passport: "i remembered having read that the best way to win a spaniard's heart is to treat him with ceremonious civility. i therefore dismounted, and taking off my hat, made a low bow to the constitutional soldier, saying, 'senor nacional, you must know that i am an english gentleman travelling in this country for my pleasure. i bear a passport, which on inspecting you will find to be perfectly regular. it was given me by the great lord palmerston, minister of england, whom you of course have heard of here. at the bottom you will see his own handwriting. look at it and rejoice; perhaps you will never have another opportunity. as i put unbounded confidence in the honour of every gentleman, i leave the passport in your hands whilst i repair to the posada to refresh myself. when you have inspected it, you will perhaps oblige me so far as to bring it to me. cavalier, i kiss your hands.' "i then made him another low bow, which he returned with one still lower, and leaving him now staring at the passport and now looking at myself, i went into a posada, to which i was directed by a beggar whom i met. "i fed the horse, and procured some bread and barley, as the gypsy had directed me. i likewise purchased three fine partridges of a fowler, who was drinking wine in the posada. he was satisfied with the price i gave him, and offered to treat me with a copita, to which i made no objection. as we sat discoursing at the table, the national entered with the passport in his hand, and sat down by us. "_national_.--'caballero, i return you your passport; it is quite in form. i rejoice much to have made your acquaintance. i have no doubt that you can give me some information respecting the present war.' "_myself_.--'i shall be very happy to afford so polite and honourable a gentleman any information in my power.'" he won the hearts of the people of villa seca by the "formality" of his behaviour and language; for he tells us that in such remote places might still be found the gravity of deportment and the grandiose expressions which are scoffed at as exaggerations in the romances. he speaks of himself in one place as strolling about a town or neighbourhood, entering into conversation with several people whom he met, shopkeepers, professional men, and others. near evora he sat down daily at a fountain and talked with everyone who came to it. he visited the college of the english catholics at lisbon, excusing himself, indeed, by saying that his favourite or his only study was man. his knowledge of languages and his un-english appearance made it easier for him to become familiar with many kinds of men. he introduced himself among some jews of lisbon, and pronounced a blessing: they took him for a powerful rabbi, and he favoured their mistake so that in a few days he knew all that related to these people and their traffic. on his journey in galicia, when he was nearing finisterra, the men of the cabin where he rested took him for a catalan, and "he favoured their mistake and began with a harsh catalan accent to talk of the fish of galicia, and the high duties on salt." when at this same cabin he found there was no bed, he went up into the loft and lay down on the boards' without complaint. so in the prison at madrid he got on so well with the prisoners that on the third day he spoke their language as if he were "a son of the prison." at gibraltar he talked to the man of mogador in arabic and was taken for "a holy man from the kingdoms of the east," especially when he produced the shekel which had been given him by hasfeldt: a jew there believed him to be a salamancan jew. at villafranca a woman mistook his voice in the dark for that of "the german clockmaker from pontevedra." for some time in he went among the villages dressed in a peasant's leather helmet, jacket and trousers, and resembling "a person between sixty and seventy years of age," so that people addressed him as uncle, and bought his testaments, though the bible society, on hearing it, "began to inquire whether, if the old man were laid up in prison, they could very conveniently apply for his release in the proper quarter." { } he saw men and places, and with his pen he created a land as distinct, as wild, as vast, and as wonderful as the spain of cervantes. he did this with no conscious preconceived design. his creation was the effect of a multitude of impressions, all contributory because all genuine and true to the depth of borrow's own nature. he had seen and felt spain, and "the bible in spain" shows how; nor probably could he have shown it in any other way. not but what he could speak of spain as the land of old renown, and of himself--in a letter to the bible society in --as an errant knight, and of his servant francisco as his squire. he did not see himself as he was, or he would have seen both don quixote and sancho panza in one, now riding a black andalusian stallion, now driving an ass before him. only a power as great as borrow's own could show how this wild spain was built up. for it was not done by this and that, but by a great man and a noble country in a state of accord continually vibrating. thus he drew near to finisterra with his wild gallegan guide: "it was a beautiful autumnal morning when we left the choza and pursued our way to corcuvion. i satisfied our host by presenting him with a couple of pesetas; and he requested as a favour that if on our return we passed that way, and were overtaken by the night, we would again take up our abode beneath his roof. this i promised, at the same time determining to do my best to guard against the contingency, as sleeping in the loft of a gallegan hut, though preferable to passing the night on a moor or mountain, is anything but desirable. "so we again started at a rapid pace along rough bridleways and footpaths, amidst furze and brushwood. in about an hour we obtained a view of the sea, and directed by a lad, whom we found on the moor employed in tending a few miserable sheep, we bent our course to the north-west, and at length reached the brow of an eminence, where we stopped for some time to survey the prospect which opened before us. "it was not without reason that the latins gave the name of finisterrae to this district. we had arrived exactly at such a place as in my boyhood i had pictured to myself as the termination of the world, beyond which there was a wild sea, or abyss, or chaos. i now saw far before me an immense ocean, and below me a long and irregular line of lofty and precipitous coast. certainly in the whole world there is no bolder coast than the gallegan shore, from the _debouchement_ of the minho to cape finisterra. it consists of a granite wall of savage mountains, for the most part serrated at the top, and occasionally broken, where bays and firths like those of vigo and pontevedra intervene, running deep into the land. these bays and firths are invariably of an immense depth, and sufficiently capacious to shelter the navies of the proudest maritime nations. "there is an air of stern and savage grandeur in everything around which strongly captivates the imagination. this savage coast is the first glimpse of spain which the voyager from the north catches, or he who has ploughed his way across the wide atlantic; and well does it seem to realize all his visions of this strange land. 'yes,' he exclaims, 'this is indeed spain--stern, flinty spain--land emblematic of those spirits to which she has given birth. from what land but that before me could have proceeded those portentous beings who astounded the old world and filled the new with horror and blood--alba and philip, cortez and pizarro--stern colossal spectres looming through the gloom of bygone years, like yonder granite mountains through the haze, upon the eye of the mariner? yes, yonder is indeed spain--flinty, indomitable spain--land emblematic of its sons!' "as for myself, when i viewed that wide ocean and its savage shore, i cried, 'such is the grave, and such are its terrific sides; those moors and wilds over which i have passed are the rough and dreary journey of life. cheered with hope, we struggle along through all the difficulties of moor, bog, and mountain, to arrive at--what? the grave and its dreary sides. oh, may hope not desert us in the last hour--hope in the redeemer and in god!' "we descended from the eminence, and again lost sight of the sea amidst ravines and dingles, amongst which patches of pine were occasionally seen. continuing to descend, we at last came, not to the sea, but to the extremity of a long, narrow firth, where stood a village or hamlet; whilst at a small distance, on the western side of the firth, appeared one considerably larger, which was indeed almost entitled to the appellation of town. this last was corcuvion; the first, if i forget not, was called ria de silla. we hastened on to corcuvion, where i bade my guide make inquiries respecting finisterra. he entered the door of a wine-house, from which proceeded much noise and vociferation, and presently returned, informing me that the village of finisterra was distant about a league and a half. a man, evidently in a state of intoxication, followed him to the door. 'are you bound for finisterra, cavalheiros?' he shouted. "'yes, my friend,' i replied; 'we are going thither.' "'then you are going amongst a flock of drunkards' (_fato de borrachos_), he answered. 'take care that they do not play you a trick.' "we passed on, and striking across a sandy peninsula at the back of the town, soon reached the shore of an immense bay, the north-westernmost end of which was formed by the far-famed cape of finisterra, which we now saw before us stretching far into the sea. "along the beach of dazzling white sand we advanced towards the cape, the bourne of our journey. the sun was shining brightly, and every object was illumined by his beams. the sea lay before us like a vast mirror, and the waves which broke upon the shore were so tiny as scarcely to produce a murmur. on we sped along the deep winding bay, overhung by gigantic hills and mountains. strange recollections began to throng upon my mind. it was upon this beach that, according to the tradition of all ancient christendom, st. james, the patron saint of spain, preached the gospel to the heathen spaniards. upon this beach had once stood an immense commercial city, the proudest in all spain. this now desolate bay had once resounded with the voices of myriads, when the keels and commerce of all the then known world were wafted to duyo. "'what is the name of this village?' said i to a woman, as we passed by five or six ruinous houses at the bend of the bay, ere we entered upon the peninsula of finisterra. "'this is no village,' said the gallegan--'this is no village, sir cavalier; this is a city--this is duyo.' "so much for the glory of the world! these huts were all that the roaring sea and the tooth of time had left of duyo, the great city! onward now to finisterra." he spends little time on such declamatory description, but it is essential to the whole effect. this particular piece is followed by the difficulty of a long ascent, by a sleep of exhaustion on a rude and dirty bed, by borrow's arrest as the pretender, don carlos, in disguise, by an escape from immediate execution into the hands of an alcalde who read "jeremy bentham" day and night; all this in one short chapter. equally essential is the type of landscape represented by the solitary ruined fort in the monotonous waste between estremoz and elvas, which he climbed to over stones that cut his feet: "being about to leave the place, i heard a strange cry behind a part of the wall which i had not visited; and hastening thither, i found a miserable object in rags seated upon a stone. it was a maniac--a man about thirty years of age, and i believe deaf and dumb. there he sat, gibbering and mowing, and distorting his wild features into various dreadful appearances. there wanted nothing but this object to render the scene complete; banditti amongst such melancholy desolation would have been by no means so much in keeping. but the manaic on his stone, in the rear of the wind-beaten ruin overlooking the blasted heath, above which scowled the leaden heaven, presented such a picture of gloom and misery as i believe neither painter nor poet ever conceived in the saddest of their musings. this is not the first instance in which it has been my lot to verify the wisdom of the saying that truth is sometimes wilder than fiction." at oropesa he heard from the barber-surgeon of the mysterious guadarrama mountains, and of the valley that lay undiscovered and unknown for thousands of years until a hunter found there a tribe of people speaking a language unknown to anyone else and ignorant of the rest of men. rough wild ways intersect the book. thunder storms overhang it. immense caverns echo beneath it. the travellers left behind a mill which "stood at the bottom of a valley shaded by large trees, and its wheels were turning with a dismal and monotonous noise," and they emerged, by the light of "a corner of the moon," on to the wildest heath of the wildest province of spain, ignorant of their way, making for a place which the guide believed not to exist. they passed a defile where the carrier had been attacked on his last journey by robbers, who burnt the coach by means of the letters in it, and butchered all except the carrier, who had formerly been the master of one of the gang: as they passed, the ground was still saturated with the blood of one of the murdered soldiers and a dog was gnawing a piece of his skull. borrow was told of an old viper catcher caught by the robbers, who plundered and stripped him and then tied his hands behind him and thrust his head into his sack, "which contained several of these horrible reptiles alive," and so he ran mad through the villages until he fell dead. as a background, he had again and again a scene like that one, whose wild waters and mountains, and the "convent of the precipices" standing out against the summit, reminded him at once of salvator rosa and of stolberg's lines to a mountain torrent: "the pine trees are shaken. . . ." describing the cave at gibraltar, he spoke of it as always having been "a den for foul night birds, reptiles, and beasts of prey," of precipice after precipice, abyss after abyss, in apparently endless succession, and of an explorer who perished there and lay "even now rotting in the bowels of the mountain, preyed upon by its blind and noisome worms." when he saw a peaceful rich landscape in a bright sunny hour, as at monte moro, he shed tears of rapture, sitting on and on in those reveries which, as he well knew, only enervate the mind: or he felt that he would have desired "no better fate than that of a shepherd on the prairies or a hunter on the hills of bembibre": or looking through an iron-grated door at a garden court in seville he sighed that his fate did not permit him to reside in such an eden for the remainder of his days. for as he delights in the dismal, grand, or wild, so he does with equal intensity in the sweetness of loveliness, as in the country about seville: "oh how pleasant it is, especially in springtide, to stray along the shores of the guadalquivir! not far from the city, down the river, lies a grove called las delicias, or the delights. it consists of trees of various kinds, but more especially of poplars and elms, and is traversed by long, shady walks. this grove is the favourite promenade of the sevillians, and there one occasionally sees assembled whatever the town produces of beauty or gallantry. there wander the black-eyed andalusian dames and damsels, clad in their graceful silken mantillas; and there gallops the andalusian cavalier on his long-tailed, thick-maned steed of moorish ancestry. as the sun is descending, it is enchanting to glance back from this place in the direction of the city; the prospect is inexpressibly beautiful. yonder in the distance, high and enormous, stands the golden tower, now used as a toll-house, but the principal bulwark of the city in the time of the moors. it stands on the shore of the river, like a giant keeping watch, and is the first edifice which attracts the eye of the voyager as he moves up the stream to seville. on the other side, opposite the tower, stands the noble augustine convent, the ornament of the faubourg of triana; whilst between the two edifices rolls the broad guadalquivir, bearing on its bosom a flotilla of barks from catalonia and valencia. farther up is seen the bridge of boats which traverses the water. the principal object of this prospect, however, is the golden tower, where the beams of the setting sun seem to be concentrated as in the focus, so that it appears built of pure gold, and probably from that circumstance received the name which it now bears. cold, cold must the heart be which can remain insensible to the beauties of this magic scene, to do justice to which the pencil of claude himself were barely equal. often have i shed tears of rapture whilst i beheld it, and listened to the thrush and the nightingale piping forth their melodious songs in the woods, and inhaled the breeze laden with the perfume of the thousand orange gardens of seville. 'kennst du das land wo die citronen bluhen?'" if a scene was not in fact superlative his creative memory would furnish it with what it lacked, giving the cathedral of palencia, for example, windows painted by murillo. chapter xxi--"the bible in spain": the characters in such scenes, naturally, borrow placed nothing common and nothing mean. he must have a madman among the ruins, or by a pool a peasant woman sitting, who has been mad ever since her child was drowned there, or a mule and a stallion fighting with hoofs and teeth. the clergy, in their ugly shovel hats and long cloaks, glared at him askance as he passed by their whispering groups in salamanca: at the english college in valladolid, he thought of "those pale, smiling, half-foreign priests who, like stealthy grimalkins, traversed green england in all directions" under the persecution of elizabeth. if he painted an archbishop plainly dressed in black cassock and silken cap, stooping, feeble, pale and emaciated, he set upon his finger a superb amethyst of a dazzling lustre--borrow never saw a finer, except one belonging to an acquaintance of his own, a tartar khan. the day after his interview with the archbishop he had a visit from benedict mol. this man is proved to have existed by a letter from rey romero to borrow mentioning "the german of the treasure." { } "true, every word of it!" says knapp: "remember our artist never created; he painted from models." because he existed, therefore every word of borrow's concerning him is true. as borrow made him, "he is a bulky old man, somewhat above the middle height, and with white hair and ruddy features; his eyes were large and blue, and, whenever he fixed them on anyone's countenance, were full of an expression of great eagerness, as if he were expecting the communication of some important tidings. he was dressed commonly enough, in a jacket and trousers of coarse cloth of a russet colour; on his head was an immense sombrero, the brim of which had been much cut and mutilated, so as in some places to resemble the jags or denticles of a saw." and thus, at madrid in , he told his story on the first meeting, as men had to do when they were interrogated by borrow: "upon my asking him who he was, the following conversation ensued between us: "'i am a swiss of lucerne, benedict mol by name, once a soldier in the walloon guard, and now a soap-boiler, _para servir usted_.' "'you speak the language of spain very imperfectly,' said i; 'how long have you been in the country?' "'forty-five years,' replied benedict. 'but when the guard was broken up i went to minorca, where i lost the spanish language without acquiring the catalan.' "'you have been a soldier of the king of spain,' said i; 'how did you like the service?' "'not so well but that i should have been glad to leave it forty years ago; the pay was bad, and the treatment worse. i will now speak swiss to you; for, if i am not much mistaken, you are a german man, and understand the speech of lucerne. i should soon have deserted from the service of spain, as i did from that of the pope, whose soldier i was in my early youth before i came here; but i had married a woman of minorca, by whom i had two children: it was this that detained me in these parts so long. before, however, i left minorca, my wife died; and as for my children, one went east, the other west, and i know not what became of them. i intend shortly to return to lucerne, and live there like a duke.' "'have you then realized a large capital in spain?' said i, glancing at his hat and the rest of his apparel. "'not a cuart, not a cuart; these two wash-balls are all that i possess.' "'perhaps you are the son of good parents, and have lands and money in your own country wherewith to support yourself.' "'not a heller, not a heller. my father was hangman of lucerne, and when he died, his body was seized to pay his debts.' "'then doubtless,' said i, 'you intend to ply your trade of soap-boiling at lucerne. you are quite right, my friend; i know of no occupation more honourable or useful.' "'i have no thoughts of plying my trade at lucerne,' replied benedict. 'and now, as i see you are a german man, lieber herr, and as i like your countenance and your manner of speaking, i will tell you in confidence that i know very little of my trade, and have already been turned out of several fabriques as an evil workman; the two wash-balls that i carry in my pocket are not of my own making. _in kurtzen_, i know little more of soap-boiling than i do of tailoring, horse-farriery, or shoe-making, all of which i have practised.' "'then i know not how you can hope to live like a hertzog in your native canton, unless you expect that the men of lucerne, in consideration of your services to the pope and to the king of spain, will maintain you in splendour at the public expense.' "'lieber herr,' said benedict, 'the men of lucerne are by no means fond of maintaining the soldiers of the pope and the king of spain at their own expense; many of the guard who have returned thither beg their bread in the streets: but when i go, it shall be in a coach drawn by six mules with a treasure, a mighty schatz which lies in the church of st. james of compostella, in galicia.' "'i hope you do not intend to rob the church,' said i. 'if you do, however, i believe you will be disappointed. mendizabal and the liberals have been beforehand with you. i am informed that at present no other treasure is to be found in the cathedrals of spain than a few paltry ornaments and plated utensils.' "'my good german herr,' said benedict, 'it is no church schatz; and no person living, save myself, knows of its existence. nearly thirty years ago, amongst the sick soldiers who were brought to madrid, was one of my comrades of the walloon guard, who had accompanied the french to portugal; he was very sick, and shortly died. before, however, he breathed his last, he sent for me, and upon his death-bed told me that himself and two other soldiers, both of whom had since been killed, had buried in a certain church in compostella a great booty which they had made in portugal; it consisted of gold moidores and of a packet of huge diamonds from the brazils: the whole was contained in a large copper kettle. i listened with greedy ears, and from that moment, i may say, i have known no rest, neither by day nor night, thinking of the schatz. it is very easy to find, for the dying man was so exact in his description of the place where it lies, that were i once at compostella i should have no difficulty in putting my hand upon it. several times i have been on the point of setting out on the journey, but something has always happened to stop me. when my wife died, i left minorca with a determination to go to st. james; but on reaching madrid, i fell into the hands of a basque woman, who persuaded me to live with her, which i have done for several years. she is a great hax, { } and says that if i desert her she will breathe a spell which shall cling to me for ever. _dem got sey dank_, she is now in the hospital, and daily expected to die. this is my history, lieber herr.'" notice that borrow continues: "i have been the more careful in relating the above conversation, as i shall have frequent occasion to mention the swiss in the course of these journals." benedict mol had the faculty of re-appearance. in the next year at compostella the moonlight fell on his grey locks and weatherbeaten face and borrow recognised him. "_och_," said the man, "_mein gott_, _es ist der herr_!" (it is that gentleman). "och, what good fortune, that the _herr_ is the first person i meet in compostella." even borrow could scarcely believe his eyes. benedict had come to dig for the treasure, and in the meantime proposed to live at the best hotel and pay his score when the digging was done. borrow gave him a dollar, which he paid to a witch for telling him where exactly the treasure lay. a third time, to his own satisfaction and borrow's astonishment, he re-appeared at oviedo. he had, in fact, followed borrow to corunna, having been despitefully used at compostella, met highwaymen on the road, and suffered hunger so that he slaughtered a stray kid and devoured it raw. from oviedo he trod in borrow's footsteps, which was "a great comfort in his horrible journeys." "a strange life has he led," said borrow's greek servant, "and a strange death he will die--it is written on his countenance." he re-appeared a fourth time at madrid, in light green coat and pantaloons that were almost new, and a glossy andalusian hat "of immense altitude of cone," and leaning not on a ragged staff but "a huge bamboo rattan, surmounted by the grim head of either a bear or lion, curiously cut out of pewter." he had been wandering after borrow in misery that almost sent him mad: "oh, the horror of wandering about the savage hills and wide plains of spain without money and without hope! sometimes i became desperate, when i found myself amongst rocks and barrancos, perhaps after having tasted no food from sunrise to sunset, and then i would raise my staff towards the sky and shake it, crying, lieber herr gott, ach lieber herr gott, you must help me now or never. if you tarry, i am lost. you must help me now, now! and once when i was raving in this manner, methought i heard a voice--nay, i am sure i heard it--sounding from the hollow of a rock, clear and strong; and it cried, 'der schatz, der schatz, it is not yet dug up. to madrid, to madrid! the way to the schatz is through madrid.'" but now he had met people who supported him with an eye to the treasure. borrow tried to persuade him to circulate the gospel instead of risking failure and the anger of his clients. luckily benedict went on to compostella: "he went, and i never saw him more. what i heard, however, was extraordinary enough. it appeared that the government had listened to his tale, and had been so struck with benedict's exaggerated description of the buried treasure, that they imagined that, by a little trouble and outlay, gold and diamonds might be dug up at st. james sufficient to enrich themselves and to pay off the national debt of spain. the swiss returned to compostella 'like a duke,' to use his own words. the affair, which had at first been kept a profound secret, was speedily divulged. it was, indeed, resolved that the investigation, which involved consequences of so much importance, should take place in a manner the most public and imposing. a solemn festival was drawing nigh, and it was deemed expedient that the search should take place upon that day. the day arrived. all the bells in compostella pealed. the whole populace thronged from their houses; a thousand troops were drawn up in a square; the expectation of all was wound up to the highest pitch. a procession directed its course to the church of san roque. at its head were the captain-general and the swiss, brandishing in his hand the magic rattan; close behind walked the _meiga_, the gallegan witch-wife, by whom the treasure-seeker had been originally guided in the search; numerous masons brought up the rear, bearing implements to break up the ground. the procession enters the church; they pass through it in solemn march; they find themselves in a vaulted passage. the swiss looks around. 'dig here,' said he suddenly. 'yes, dig here,' said the meiga. the masons labour; the floor is broken up--a horrible and fetid odour arises. . . "enough, no treasure was found, and my warning to the unfortunate swiss turned out but too prophetic. he was forthwith seized and flung into the horrid prison of st. james, amidst the execrations of thousands, who would have gladly torn him limb from limb. "the affair did not terminate here. the political opponents of the government did not allow so favourable an opportunity to escape for launching the shafts of ridicule. the moderados were taunted in the cortes for their avarice and credulity, whilst the liberal press wafted on its wings through spain the story of the treasure-hunt at st. james. "'after all, it was a _trampa_ { } of don jorge's,' said one of my enemies. 'that fellow is at the bottom of half the picardias which happen in spain.' "eager to learn the fate of the swiss, i wrote to my old friend rey romero, at compostella. in his answer he states: 'i saw the swiss in prison, to which place he sent for me, craving my assistance, for the sake of the friendship which i bore to you. but how could i help him? he was speedily after removed from st. james, i know not whither. it is said that he disappeared on the road.' "truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. where in the whole cycle of romance shall we find anything more wild, grotesque, and sad than the easily authenticated history of benedict mol, the treasure-digger of st. james?" knapp, by the way, prints this very letter from rey romero. it was his son who saw benedict in prison, and he simply says that he does not know what has become of him. as dr. knapp says, borrow painted from a model. that is to say, he did like everybody else. of course he did not invent. why should a man with such a life invent for the purpose of only five books? but there is no such thing as invention (in the popular sense), except in the making of _bad_ nonsense rhymes or novels. a writer composes out of his experience, inward, outward and histrionic, or along the protracted lines of his experience. borrow felt that adventures and unusual scenes were his due, and when they were not forthcoming he revived an old one or revised the present in the weird light of the past. is this invention? pictures like that of benedict mol are not made out of nothing by borrow or anybody else. nor are they copies. the man who could merely copy nature would never have the eyes to see such beauties as benedict mol. it must be noticed how effective is the re-appearance, the intermingling of such a man with "ordinary life," and then finally the suggestion of one of borrow's enemies that he was put up to it by _don jorge_--"that fellow is at the bottom of half the _picardias_ which happen in spain." what glory for _don jorge_. the story would have been entertaining enough as a mere isolated short story: thus scattered, it is twice as effective as if it were a mere fiction, whether labelled "a true story" or introduced by an ingenious variation of the same. it is one of borrow's triumphs never to let us escape from the spell of actuality into a languid acquiescence in what is "only pretending." the form never becomes a fiction, even to the same extent as that of turgenev's "sportsman's sketches"; for borrow is always faithful to the form of a book of travel in spain during the 'thirties. in "don quixote" and "gil blas," the lesser narratives are as a rule introduced without much attempt at probability, but as mere diversions. they are never such in "the bible in spain," though they are in "lavengro" and "the romany rye." the gypsy hag of badajoz, who proposed to poison all the _busne_ in madrid, and then away with the london caloro to the land of the moor--his greek servant antonio, even though he begins with "je vais vous raconter mon histoire du commencement jusqu'ici."--the italian whom he had met as a boy and who now regretted leaving england, the toasted cheese and bread, the suffolk ale, the roaring song and merry jests of the labourers,--and antonio again, telling him "the history of the young man of the inn,"--these story-tellers are not merely consummate variations upon those of the "decameron" and "gil blas." the book never ceases to be a book of travel by an agent of the bible society. it is to its very great advantage that it was not written all of a piece with one conscious aim. the roughness, the merely accurate irrelevant detail here and there, the mention of his journal, and the references to well-known and substantial people, win from us an openness and simplicity of reception which ensure a success for it beyond that of most fictions. i cannot refuse complete belief in the gigantic jew, abarbanel, for example, when borrow has said: "i had now a full view of his face and figure, and those huge featured and herculean form still occasionally revisit me in my dreams. i see him standing in the moonshine, staring me in the face with his deep calm eyes." i do not feel bound to believe that he had met the italian of corunna twenty years before at norwich, though to a man with his memory for faces such re-appearances are likely to happen many times as often as to an ordinary man. but i feel no doubt about judah lib, who spoke to him at gibraltar: he was "about to exclaim, 'i know you not,' when one or two lineaments struck him, and he cried, though somewhat hesitatingly, 'surely this is judah lib.'" he continues: "it was in a steamer in the baltic in the year ' , if i mistake not." that he had this strong memory is certain; but that he knew it, and was proud of it, and likely to exaggerate it, is almost equally certain. it was natural that such a knight should have squires of high degree, as francisco the basque and the two antonios, gypsy and greek. antonio the greek left borrow to serve a count as cook, but the count attacked him with a rapier, whereupon he gave notice in the following manner: "suddenly i took a large casserole from the fire in which various eggs were frying; this i held out at arm's length, peering at it along my arm as if i were curiously inspecting it--my right foot advanced, and the other thrown back as far as possible. all stood still, imagining, doubtless, that i was about to perform some grand operation; and so i was: for suddenly the sinister leg advancing, with one rapid _coup de pied_ i sent the casserole and its contents flying over my head, so that they struck the wall far behind me. this was to let them know that i had broken my staff and had shaken the dust off my feet. so casting upon the count the peculiar glance of the sceirote cooks when they feel themselves insulted, and extending my mouth on either side nearly as far as the ears, i took down my haversack and departed, singing as i went the song of the ancient demos, who, when dying, asked for his supper, and water wherewith to lave his hands: [greek verse] and in this manner, mon maitre, i left the house of the count of ---." the morning after francisco died, when borrow was lying in bed ruminating on his loss, he heard someone cleaning boots and singing in an unknown tongue, so he rang the bell. antonio appeared. he had, he said, engaged himself to the prime minister at a high salary, but on hearing of borrow's loss, he "told the duke, though it was late at night, that he would not suit me; and here i am." again he left borrow. when he returned it was in obedience to a dream, in which he saw his master ride on a black horse up to his inn--yet this was immediately after borrow's landing on his third visit to spain, of which "only two individuals in madrid were aware." this greek was acquainted with all the cutthroats in galicia; he could tell a story like sterne, and in every way was a servant who deserved no less a master than _monsieur georges_. francisco has already sufficiently adorned these pages. as for the other antonio, the gypsy, he guided borrow through the worst of spain on his way to madrid. this he offered to do in such terms that borrow's hint at the possible danger of accepting it falls flat. he was as mysterious as borrow himself, and being asked why he was taking this particular road, he answered: "it is an affair of egypt, brother, and i shall not acquaint you with it; peradventure it relates to a horse or an ass, or peradventure it relates to a mule or a _macho_; it does not relate to yourself, therefore i advise you not to inquire about it--_dosta_. . . ." he carried a loadstone in his bosom and swallowed some of the dust of it, and it served both for passport and for prayers. when he had to leave borrow he sold him a savage and vicious she ass, recommending her for the same reason as he bought her, because "a savage and vicious beast has generally four excellent legs." chapter xxii--"the bible in spain": style borrow's spanish portrait of himself was worthy of its background. much was required of him in a world where a high fantastical acrobatic mountebankery was almost a matter of ceremony, where riders stand on their heads in passing their rivals and cooks punt a casserole over their heads to the wall behind by way of giving notice: much was required of him and he proved worthy. he saw himself, i suppose, as a great imaginative master of fiction sees a hero. his attitude cannot be called vanity: it is too consistent and continuous and its effect by far too powerful. he puts his own name into the speeches of other men in a manner that is very rare: he does not start at the sound of _don jorge_. he said to the silent archbishop: "i suppose your lordship knows who i am? . . . i am he whom the _manolos_ of madrid call _don jorgito el ingles_; i am just come out of prison, whither i was sent for circulating my lord's gospel in this kingdom of spain." he allows the archbishop to put this celebrity on horseback: "_vaya_! how you ride! it is dangerous to be in your way." his horses are magnificent: "what," he asks, "what is a missionary in the heart of spain without a horse? which consideration induced me now to purchase an arabian of high caste, which had been brought from algiers by an officer of the french legion. the name of this steed, the best i believe that ever issued from the desert, was sidi habismilk." who can forget quesada and his two friends lording it on horseback over the crowd, and borrow shouting "_viva_ _quesada_," or forget the old moor of tangier talking of horses?-- "'good are the horses of the moslems,' said my old friend; 'where will you find such? they will descend rocky mountains at full speed and neither trip nor fall; but you must be cautious with the horses of the moslems, and treat them with kindness, for the horses of the moslems are proud, and they like not being slaves. when they are young and first mounted, jerk not their mouths with your bit, for be sure if you do they will kill you--sooner or later you will perish beneath their feet. good are our horses, and good our riders--yea, very good are the moslems at mounting the horse; who are like them? i once saw a frank rider compete with a moslem on this beach, and at first the frank rider had it all his own way, and he passed the moslem. but the course was long, very long, and the horse of the frank rider, which was a frank also, panted; but the horse of the moslem panted not, for he was a moslem also, and the moslem rider at last gave a cry, and the horse sprang forward, and he overtook the frank horse, and then the moslem rider stood up in his saddle. how did he stand? truly he stood on his head, and these eyes saw him. he stood on his head in the saddle as he passed the frank rider, and he cried, ha, ha! as he passed the frank rider; and the moslem horse cried, ha, ha! as he passed the frank breed, and the frank lost by a far distance. good are the franks, good their horses; but better are the moslems, and better the horses of the moslems.'" it is said that he used to ride his black andalusian horse in madrid with a russian skin for a saddle and without stirrups. he had, he says, been accustomed from childhood to ride without a saddle. yet borrow could do without a horse. he never fails to make himself impressive. he stoops to his knee to scare a huge and ferocious dog by looking him full in the eyes. the spies, as he sat waiting for the magistrate at madrid, whisper, "he understands the seven gypsy jargons," or "he can ride a horse and dart a knife full as well as if he came from my own country." the captain of the ship tells a friend in a low voice, overheard by borrow: "that fellow who is lying on the deck can speak christian, too, when it serves his purpose; but he speaks others which are by no means christian. he can talk english, and i myself have heard him chatter in gitano with the gypsies of triana. he is now going amongst the moors; and when he arrives in their country, you will hear him, should you be there, converse as fluently in their gibberish as in christiano--nay, better, for he is no christian himself. he has been several times on board my vessel already; but i do not like him, as i consider that he carries something about with him which is not good." the american at tangier is perplexed by his speaking both moorish and gaelic, by hearing from an irish woman that he is "a fairy man." he does not confine himself to the mysterious sublime. he tells us, for example, that mendizabal, the prime minister, was a huge athletic man, "somewhat taller than myself, who measure six-feet-two without my shoes." several times he was mistaken for a jew, and once for a rabbi, by the jews themselves. add to this the expression that he put on for the benefit of the farrier at betanzos: he was stooping to close the vein that had been opened in the leg of his horse, and he "looked up into the farrier's face, arching his eyebrows. '_carracho_! what an evil wizard!' muttered the farrier, as he walked away." {picture: mendizabal, the spanish minister: page .jpg} in the wilds he grew a beard--he had one at jaraicejo--and it is perhaps worth noticing this, to rebut the opinion that he could not grow a beard, and that he was therefore as other men are with the same disability. he speaks more than once of his shedding tears, and at lisbon he kissed the stone above fielding's grave. but these are little things of little importance in the landscape portrait which emerges from the whole of the book, of the grave adventurer, all but always equal in his boldness and his discretion, the lord of those wild ways and wild men, who "rides in the whirlwind and directs the storm" all over spain. in brief, he is the very hero that a wondering and waiting audience would be satisfied to see appearing upon such a stage. except dante on his background of heaven and hell, and byron on his background of europe and time, no writer had in one book placed himself with greater distinction before the world. his glory was threefold. he was the man who was a gypsy in politics, because he had lived with gypsies so long. he was the man who said to the spanish prime minister: "it is a pleasant thing to be persecuted for the gospel's sake." he was the man of whom it was said _by an enemy_, after the affair of benedict mol, that _don jorge_ was at the bottom of half the knavish farces in spain. very little of borrow's effectiveness can seriously be attributed to this or that quality of style, for it will all amount to saying that he had an effective style. but it may be permissible to point out that it is also a style that is unnoticeable except for what it effects. it runs at times to rotten victorianism, both heavy and vague, as when he calls _el greco_ or domenico "a most extraordinary genius, some of whose productions possess merit of a very high order." he is capable of calling the eye the "orb of vision," and the moon "the beauteous luminary." i quote a passage lest it should seem incredible: "the moon had arisen when we mounted our horses to return to the village, and the rays of the beauteous luminary danced merrily on the rushing waters of the tagus, silvered the plain over which we were passing, and bathed in a flood of brightness the bold sides of the calcareous hill of villaluengo, the antique ruins which crowned its brow. . . ." description, taking him away from men and from his active self, often lured him into this kind of thing. and, nevertheless, such is borrow that i should by no means employ a gentleman of refinement to go over "the bible in spain" and cross out the like. it all helps in the total of half theatrical and wholly wild exuberance and robustness. another minute contributory element of style is the biblical phrasing. his home and certainly his work for the society had made him familiar with the bible. he quotes it several times in passages which bring him into comparison, if not equality, with jesus and with paul. a little after quoting, "ride on, because of the word of righteousness," he writes: "i repaired to the aqueduct, and sat down beneath the hundred and seventh arch, where i waited the greater part of the day, _but he came not_, _whereupon i arose and went into the city_." he is fond of "even," saying, for example, or making judah lib say, "he bent his way unto the east, _even to jerusalem_." the "beauteous luminary" vein and the biblical vein may be said to be inseparable from the long cloak, the sombrero, the picturesque romance and mystery of spain, as they appeared to one for whom romance and mystery alike were never without pomp. but with all his rant he is invariably substantial, never aerial, and he chequers it in a byronic manner with a sudden prose reference to bugs, or a question, or a piece of dialogue. his dialogue can hardly be over-praised. it is life-like in its effect, though not in its actual phrases, and it breaks up the narrative and description over and over again at the right time. what he puts into the mouth of shepherds with whom he sits round the fire is more than twice as potent as if it were in his own narrative; he varies the point of view, and yet always without allowing himself to disappear from the scene--he, the _senor_ traveller. these spoken words are, it is true, in borrow's own style, with little or no colloquialism, but they are simpler. they also, in their turn, are broken up by words or phrases from the language of the speaker. the effect of this must vary with the reader. the learned will not pause, some of the unlearned will be impatient. but as a glossary was afterwards granted at ford's suggestion, and is now to be had in the cheapest editions of "the bible in spain," these few hundred spanish or gypsy words are at least no serious stumbling block. i find them a very distinct additional flavour in the style. a good writer can afford these mysteries. children do not boggle at the unpronounceable names of a good book like "the arabian nights," but rather use them as charms, like izaak walton's marrow of the thighbone of a heron or a piece of mummy. the bullfighter speaks: "'cavaliers and strong men, this cavalier is the friend of a friend of mine. _es mucho hombre_. there is none like him in spain. he speaks the crabbed _gitano_, though he is an _inglesito_.' "'we do not believe it,' replied several grave voices. 'it is not possible.' "'it is not possible, say you? i tell you it is.--come forward, balseiro, you who have been in prison all your life, and are always boasting that you can speak the crabbed _gitano_, though i say you know nothing of it--come forward and speak to his worship in the crabbed _gitano_.' "a low, slight, but active figure stepped forward. he was in his shirt sleeves, and wore a _montero_ cap; his features were handsome, but they were those of a demon. "he spoke a few words in the broken gypsy slang of the prison, inquiring of me whether i had ever been in the condemned cell, and whether i knew what a _gitana_ was. "'_vamos inglesito_,' shouted sevilla, in a voice of thunder, 'answer the _monro_ in the crabbed _gitano_.' "i answered the robber, for such he was, and one, too, whose name will live for many years in the ruffian histories of madrid--i answered him in a speech of some length, in the dialect of the estremenian gypsies. "'i believe it is the crabbed _gitano_,' muttered balseiro. 'it is either that or english, for i understand not a word of it.' "'did i not say to you,' cried the bullfighter, 'that you knew nothing of the crabbed _gitano_? but this _inglesito_ does. i understood all he said. _vaya_, there is none like him for the crabbed _gitano_. he is a good _ginete_, too; next to myself, there is none like him, only he rides with stirrup leathers too short.--_inglesito_, if you have need of money, i will lend you my purse. all i have is at your service, and that is not a little; i have just gained four thousand _chules_ by the lottery. courage, englishman! another cup. i will pay all--i, sevilla!' "and he clapped his hand repeatedly on his breast, reiterating, 'i, sevilla! i--'" borrow breaks up his own style in the same way with foreign words. as ford said in his "edinburgh review" criticism: "to use a gypsy term for a linguist, 'he knows the seven jargons'; his conversations and his writings resemble an intricate mosiac, of which we see the rich effect, without comprehending the design. . . . mr. borrow, in whose mouth are the tongues of babel, selects, as he dashes along _currente calamo_, the exact word for any idiom which best expresses the precise idea which sparkles in his mind." this habit of borrow's should be compared with lamb's archaisms, but, better still, with robert burton's interlardation of english and latin in "the anatomy of melancholy." here again what i may call his spotted dog style is only a part of the whole, and as the whole is effective, we solemnly conclude that this is due in part to the spotted dog. my last word is that here, as always in a good writer, the whole is greater than the mere sum of the parts, just as with a bad writer the part is always greater than the whole. or a truer way of saying this is that many elements elude discovery, and therefore the whole exceeds the discoverable parts. nor is this the whole truth, for the mixing is much if not all, and neither borrow nor any critic knows anything about the mixing, save that the drink is good that comes of it. chapter xxiii--between the acts six three-volume editions of "the bible in spain" were issued within the first twelve months: ten thousand copies of a cheap edition were sold in four months. in america it was sold rapidly without benefit to borrow. it was translated into german in and french in . borrow came up to town and did not refuse to meet princes, bishops, ambassadors, and members of parliament. he was pleased and flattered by the sales and the reviews, and declared that he had known it would succeed. he did not quite know what to say to an invitation from the royal institution, but as to the royal academy, it would "just suit him," because he was a safe man, he said, fitted by nature for an academician. he did not think much of episcopal food, wine, or cigars. he was careful of his hero and disliked hearing him abused or treated indifferently. if he had many letters, he answered but few. he had made nothing yet out of literature because the getting about to receive homage, etc., had been so expensive: he did not care, for he hated to speak of money matters, yet he could not but mention the fact. when the money began to arrive he did not resent it by any means, as he was to buy a blood horse with it--no less. his letters have a jolly, bullying, but offhand and jerky tone, and they are very short. he gives murray advice on publishing and is willing to advise the government how to manage the irish--"the blackguards." he was now, by virtue of his wife, a "landed proprietor," and filled the part with unction, though but little satisfaction. for he was not a magistrate, and he had to get up in the middle of the night to look after "poachers and thieves," as he says in giving a reason for an illness. in the summer-house at oulton hung his father's coat and sword, but it is to be noticed that to the end of his life an old friend held it "doubtful whether his father commenced his military career with a commission." borrow probably realised the importance of belonging to the ruling classes and having a long steady pedigree. "if report be true," says the same friend, { } "his mother was of french origin, and in early life an actress." the foreignness as an asset overcame his objection to the french, and "an actress" also sounded unconventional. the friend continues: "but the subject of his family was one on which borrow never touched. he would allude to borrowdale as the country whence they came, and then would make mysterious allusions to his father's pugilistic triumphs. but this is certain, that he has not left a single relation behind him." yet he had many relatives in cornwall and did not scorn to visit their houses. he would only talk of his works to intimate friends, and "when he went into company it was as a gentleman, not because he was an author." lady eastlake, in march, , calls him "a fine man, but a most disagreeable one; a kind of character that would be most dangerous in rebellious times--one that would suffer or persecute to the utmost. his face is expressive of wrong-headed determination." a little earlier than this, in october, , caroline fox saw him "sitting on one side of the fire and his old mother on the other." it was known to her that "his spirits always sink in wet weather, and to-day was very rainy, but he was courteous and not displeased to be a little lionised, for his delicacy is not of the most susceptible." he was "a tall, ungainly, uncouth man," in her opinion, "with great physical strength, a quick penetrating eye, a confident manner, and a disagreeable tone and pronunciation." in no place does he make anyone praise his voice, and, as he said, it reminded one spanish woman of a german clockmaker's. but borrow was not happy or at ease. he took a riding tour in the east of england; he walked, rowed and fished; but that was not enough. he was restless, and yet did not get away. evidently he did not conceal the fact that he thought of travelling again. he had talked about africa and china: he was now talking about constantinople and africa. he was often miserable, though he had, so far as he knew, "no particular disorder." if at such times he was away from oulton, he thought of his home as his only refuge in this world; if he was at home he thought of travel or foreign employment. his disease was, perhaps, now middle age, and too good a memory in his blood and in his bones. whatever it was it was apparently not curable by his kind of christianity, nor by a visit from the genial ford, and a present of caviare and pheasant; nor by the never-out-of-date reminder from friends that he was very well off, etc. if he had been caught by dissenters, as he should have been, he might by this time have had salvation, and an occupation for life, in founding a new truculent sect of borrovians. as the rev. the romany rye he might have blazed in an entertaining and becoming manner. as "a sincere member of the old- fashioned church of england, in which he believes there is more religion, and consequently less cant, than in any other church in the world," there was nothing for him to do but sit down at oulton and contemplate the fact. this and the other fact that "he eats his own bread, and is one of the very few men in england who are independent in every sense of the word," were afterwards to be made subjects for public rejoicing in the appendix to "the romany rye." but in his discontent at the age of forty it cannot have been entirely satisfactory, however flattering, to hear ford, in the "edinburgh," saying: "we wish he would, on some leisure day, draw up the curtain of his own eventful biography. we collected from his former work that he was not always what he now is. the pursuits and society of his youth scarcely could be denominated, in troloppian euphemism, _la creme de la creme_; but they stood him in good stead; then and there was he trained for the encounter of spain . . . whilst sowing his wild oats, he became passionately fond of horseflesh. . . . "how much has mr. borrow yet to remember, yet to tell! let him not delay. his has been a life, one day of which is more crowded than is the fourscore-year vegetation of a squire or alderman. . . . everything seems sealed on a memory, wax to receive and marble to retain. he is not subjective. he has the new fault of not talking about self. we vainly want to know what sort of person must be the pilgrim in whose wanderings we have been interested. that he has left to other pens. . . ." then ford went on to identify borrow with the mysterious unknown of colonel napier's newly-published book. he began to write his autobiography to fulfil the expectations of ford and his own public. it was not until , exactly four years after his return from spain, that he set out again on foreign travel. he made stops at paris, vienna, constantinople, venice, and rome, but spent most of his time in hungary and roumania, visiting the gypsies and compiling a "vocabulary of the gypsy language as spoken in hungary and transylvania," which still exists in manuscript. he was seven months away altogether. knapp possessed documents proving that borrow was at this and that place, and the gypsy vocabulary is in the british museum, but little other record of these seven months remains. knapp, indeed, takes it for granted that the historical conversation between borrow and the magyar in "the romany rye" was drawn from his experiences in hungary and transylvania in the year ; but that is absurd, as the chapter might have been written by a man born and bred in the reading room of the british museum who had never met any but similar unfortunates. it is very likely that the journey was a failure, and if it had been a success, an account of it would have interrupted the progress of the autobiography, as ford expected it to do. but the thing was too deliberate to succeed. borrow's right instinct was to get work which would take him abroad; he failed, and so he travelled because travel offered him relief from his melancholy and unrest. whether or no he "satisfied his roving demon for a time," as mr. walling puts it, is unknown. what is known is that he did not make this journey a subject of mystery or boasting, and that he stayed in england thereafter. he had tasted comfort and celebrity; he had a wife; he was an older man, looking weak in the eyes by the time he was fifty; and he had no motive for travel except discontent with staying at home. he tried to get away again on a mission to the convent of st. catherine, on mount sinai, to acquire manuscripts for the british museum; but he failed, and the manuscripts went to st. petersburg instead of bloomsbury. in henry wyndham phillips, r.a., painted his portrait. he was a restless sitter until the painter remarked: "i have always heard, mr. borrow, that the persian is a very fine language; is it so?" "it is, phillips; it is." "perhaps you will not mind reciting me something in the persian tongue?" said phillips. "dear me, no; certainly not." and then "mr. borrow's face lit up with the light that phillips longed for, and he kept declaiming at the top of his voice, while the painter made the most of his opportunity." { } according to the story, phillips had the like success with turkish and armenian, and successfully stilled borrow's desire "to get out into the fresh air and sunlight." in the same way, writing and literary ambition kept borrow from travel. he stayed at home and he wrote "lavengro," where, speaking of the rapid flow of time in the years of his youth, he says: "since then it has flagged often enough; sometimes it has seemed to stand entirely still: and the reader may easily judge how it fares at the present, from the circumstance of my taking pen in hand, and endeavouring to write down the passages of my life--a last resource with most people." at one moment he got satisfaction from professing scorn of authorship, at another, speaking of byron, he reflected: "well, perhaps after all it was better to have been mighty milton in his poverty and blindness--witty and ingenious butler consigned to the tender mercies of bailiffs, and starving otway; they might enjoy more real pleasure than this lordling; they must have been aware that the world would one day do them justice--fame after death is better than the top of fashion in life. they have left a fame behind them which shall never die, whilst this lordling--a time will come when he will be out of fashion and forgotten. and yet i don't know; didn't he write childe harold and that ode? yes, he wrote childe harold and that ode. then a time will scarcely come when he will be forgotten. lords, squires, and cockneys may pass away, but a time will scarcely come when childe harold and that ode will be forgotten. he was a poet, after all--and he must have known it; a real poet, equal to--to--what a destiny!" it is said that in actual life borrow refused to be introduced to a russian scholar "simply because he moved in the literary world." { } yet again he made the glorious gypsy say that he would rather be a book- writer than a fighting-man, because the book-writers "have so much to say for themselves even when dead and gone": "'when they are laid in the churchyard, it is their own fault if people a'n't talking of them. who will know, after i am dead, or bitchadey pawdel, that i was once the beauty of the world, or that you, jasper, were--' "'the best man in england of my inches. that's true, tawno--however, here's our brother will perhaps let the world know something about us.'" i should think, too, that borrow was both questioner and answerer in the conversation with the literary man who had the touching mania: "'with respect to your present troubles and anxieties, would it not be wise, seeing that authorship causes you so much trouble and anxiety, to give it up altogether?' "'were you an author yourself,' replied my host, 'you would not talk in this manner; once an author, ever an author--besides, what could i do? return to my former state of vegetation? no, much as i endure, i do not wish that; besides, every now and then my reason tells me that these troubles and anxieties of mine are utterly without foundation; that whatever i write is the legitimate growth of my own mind, and that it is the height of folly to afflict myself at any chance resemblance between my own thoughts and those of other writers, such resemblance being inevitable from the fact of our common human origin. . . ." knapp gives at length a story showing what an author borrow was, and how little his travels had sweetened him. he had long promised to review ford's "handbook for spain," when it should appear. in he wrote an article and sent it in to the "quarterly" as a review of the handbook. it had nothing to do with the book and very little to do with the subject of the book, and lockhart, the "quarterly" editor, suggested turning it into a review by a few interpolations and extracts. borrow would not have the article touched. both lockhart and ford advised him to send it to "fraser's" or another magazine where it was certain to be welcomed as a spanish essay by the author of "the bible in spain." but no: and the article was never printed anywhere. yet borrow was not settling down to authorship pure and simple. he flew into a passion because a new railway line, in , ran through his estate. he flew into a passion, did nothing, and remained on his estates until , when he and his family went into lodgings at yarmouth. i have not discovered how much he profited by the intrusion of the railway, except when he pilloried the contractor, his neighbour, mr. peto, as flamson, in the appendix to "the romany rye." then he tried again to be put on the commission of the peace, with no success. he probably spent much of his time in being either suspicious, or ambitious, or indignant. in , for example, he suspected his friend dr. bowring--his "only friend" in --of using his work to get for himself the consulship at canton, which he was professing to obtain for borrow. the result was the foaming abuse of "the romany rye," where bowring is the old radical. the affair of the sinai manuscripts followed close on this. all that he saw of foreign lands was at the exhibition of , where he frequently accosted foreigners in their own tongue, so that it began to be whispered about that he was "uncanny": he excited so much remark that his daughter thought it better to drag him away. he was suffering from ill-health and untranquility of mind which gave his mother anxiety, though his physical strength appears not to have degenerated, for in , at yarmouth, he rescued a man out of a stormy sea. he was an unpleasant companion for those whom he did not like or could not get on with. thackeray tried to get up a conversation with him, his final effort being the question, "have you seen my 'snob papers' in 'punch'?" to which borrow answered: "in 'punch'? it is a periodical i never look at." he once met miss agnes strickland: "borrow was unwilling to be introduced, but was prevailed on to submit. he sat down at her side; before long she spoke with rapture of his works, and asked his permission to send him a copy of her 'queens of england.' he exclaimed, 'for god's sake, don't, madam, i should not know where to put them or what to do with them.' on this he rose, fuming, as was his wont when offended, and said to mr. donne, 'what a damned fool that woman is!' the fact is that, whenever borrow was induced to do anything unwillingly, he lost his temper." { } the friend who tells this story, gordon hake, a poet and doctor at bury st. edmunds, tells also that once when he was at dinner with a banker who had recently "struck the docket" to secure payment from a friend of borrow's, and the banker's wife said to him: "oh mr. borrow, i have read your books with so much pleasure!" the great man exclaimed: "pray, what books do you mean, madam? do you mean my account books?" how touchy he was, mr. walling shows, by his story of borrow in cornwall neglecting a lady all one evening because she bore the name of the man his father had knocked down at menheniot fair. several stories of his crushing remarks prove nothing but that he was big and alarming and uncontrolled. {picture: gordon hake. from the painting by dante gabriel rossetti. by kind permission of mrs. george gordon hake: page .jpg} very little record of his friendly intercourse with men at this middle period remains. several letters, of , and , alone survive to show that he met and received letters from fitzgerald. that fitzgerald enjoyed an evening with him in tells us little; and even so it appears that fitzgerald only wanted to ask him to read some of the "northern ballads"--"but you shut the book"--and that he doubted whether borrow wished to keep up the acquaintance. they had friends in common, and fitzgerald had sent borrow a copy of his "six dramas of calderon," in , confessing that he had had thoughts of sending the manuscript first for an inspection. he also told borrow when he was about to make the "dangerous experiment" of marriage with miss barton "of quaker memory." in borrow came to see him and had the loan of the "rubaiyat" in manuscript, and fitzgerald showed his readiness to see more of the "great man." in he sent borrow a copy of "omar." he found borrow's "masterful manners and irritable temper uncongenial," { } but succeeded, unlike many other friends, in having no quarrel with him. near the end of his life, in , it was borrow that tried to renew the acquaintance, but in vain, for fitzgerald reminded him that friends "exist and enjoy themselves pretty reasonably without me," and asked, was not being alone better than having company? if borrow had little consideration for others' feelings, his consideration for his own was exquisite, as this story, belonging to , may help to prove: "there were three personages in the world whom he always had a desire to see; two of these had slipped through his fingers, so he was determined to see the third. 'pray, mr. borrow, who were they?' he held up three fingers of his left hand and pointed them off with the forefinger of the right: the first, daniel o'connell; the second, lamplighter (the sire of phosphorus, lord berners's winner of the derby); the third, anna gurney. . . ." one spring day during the crimean war, when he was walking round norfolk, he sent word to anna gurney to announce his coming, and she was ready to receive him. "when, according to his account, he had been but a very short time in her presence, she wheeled her chair round and reached her hand to one of her bookshelves and took down an arabic grammar, and put it into his hand, asking for explanation of some difficult point, which he tried to decipher; but meanwhile she talked to him continuously; when, said he, 'i could not study the arabic grammar and listen to her at the same time, so i threw down the book and ran out of the room.' he seems not to have stopped running till he reached old tucker's inn, at cromer, where he renewed his strength, or calmed his temper, with five excellent sausages, and then came on to sheringham. . . ." { a} the distance is a very good two miles, and borrow's age was forty-nine. he is said also to have been considerate towards his mother, the poor, and domestic animals. probably he and his mother understood one another. when he could not write to her, he got his wife to do so; and from she lived with them at oulton. as to the poor, knapp tells us that he left behind him letters of gratitude or acknowledgment from individuals, churches, and chapels. as to animals, once when he came upon some men beating a horse that had fallen, he gave it ale of sufficient quantity and strength to set it soon upon the road trotting with the rest of its kind, after the men had received a lecture. { b} it is also related that when a favourite old cat crawled out to die in the hedge he brought it into the house, where he "laid it down in a comfortable spot and watched it till it was dead." his horse, sidi habismilk, the arab, seems to have returned his admiration and esteem. he said himself, in "wild wales," after expressing his relief that a boy and dog had not seen a weazel that ran across his path: "i hate to see poor wild animals persecuted and murdered, lose my appetite for dinner at hearing the screams of a hare pursued by greyhounds, and am silly enough to feel disgust and horror at the squeals of a rat in the fangs of a terrier, which one of the sporting tribe once told me were the sweetest sounds in 'natur.'" chapter xxiv--"lavengro" and "the romany rye" instead of travelling over the world borrow wrote his autobiography and spent so many years on it that his contempt for the pen had some excuse. i have already said almost all there is to say about these labours. { } knapp has shown that they were protracted to include matters relating to bowring and long posterior to the period covered by the autobiography, and that the magnitude of these additions compelled him to divide the book in two. the first part was "lavengro," published in , with an ending that is now, and perhaps was then, obviously due to the knife. the sceptical and hostile criticism of "lavengro" delayed the appearance of the remainder of the autobiography, "the romany rye." borrow had to reply to his critics and explain himself. this he did in the appendix, and thus changed, the book was finished in or . something in murray's attitude while they were discussing publication mounted borrow on the high horse, and yet again he fumed because murray had expressed a private opinion and had revealed his feeling that the book was not likely to make money for anyone. {picture: cancelled title-page of "lavengro". (photographed from the author's corrected proof copy, by kind permission of mr. kyllmann and mr. thos. seccombe.) photo: w. j. roberts: page .jpg} "lavengro" and "the romany rye" describe the author's early adventures and, at the same time, his later opinions and mature character. in some places he turns openly aside to express his feeling or opinion at the time of writing, as, for example, in his praise of the orangemen, or, on the very first page, where he claims to spring from a family of gentlemen, though "not very wealthy," that the reader may see at once he is "not altogether of low and plebeian origin." but by far more important is the indirect self-revelation when he is recalling that other distant self, the child of three or of ten, the youth of twenty. ford had asked borrow for a book of his adventures and travels, something "thick and slab," to follow "the bible in spain." the result shows that borrow had almost done with outward adventure. "the bible in spain" had an atmosphere composed at best of as much spain as borrow. but the autobiography is pure inward borrow: except a few detachable incidents there is nothing in it which is not borrow's creation, nothing which would have any value apart from his own treatment of it. a man might have used "the bible in spain" as a kind of guide to men and places in , and it is possible he would not have been wholly disappointed. the autobiography does not depend on anything outside itself, but creates its own atmosphere and dwells in it without admitting that of the outer world--no: not even by references to events like the campaign of waterloo or the funeral of byron; and, as if conscious that this other atmosphere must be excluded, borrow has hardly mentioned a name which could act upon the reader as a temporary check to the charm. when he does recall contemporary events, and speaks as a briton to britons, the rant is of a brave degree that is almost as much his own, and it makes more intense than ever the solitude and inwardness of the individual life going on side by side with war and with politics. "pleasant were those days of my early boyhood; and a melancholy pleasure steals over me as i recall them. those were stirring times of which i am speaking, and there was much passing around me calculated to captivate the imagination. the dreadful struggle which so long convulsed europe, and in which england bore so prominent a part, was then at its hottest; we were at war, and determination and enthusiasm shone in every face; man, woman and child were eager to fight the frank, the hereditary, but, thank god, never dreaded enemy of the anglo-saxon race. 'love your country and beat the french, and then never mind what happens,' was the cry of entire england. oh those were days of power, gallant days, bustling days, worth the bravest days of chivalry, at least; tall battalions of native warriors were marching through the land; there was the glitter of the bayonet and the gleam of the sabre; the shrill squeak of the fife and loud rattling of the drum were heard in the streets of county towns, and the loyal shouts of the inhabitants greeted the soldiery on their arrival or cheered them at their departure. and now let us leave the upland and descend to the sea-board; there is a sight for you upon the billows! a dozen men-of-war are gliding majestically out of port, their long buntings streaming from the top-gallant masts, calling on the skulking frenchman to come forth from his bights and bays; and what looms upon us yonder from the fog-bank in the east? a gallant frigate towing behind her the long low hull of a crippled privateer, which but three short days ago had left dieppe to skim the sea, and whose crew of ferocious hearts are now cursing their impudence in an english hold. stirring times those, which i love to recall, for they were days of gallantry and enthusiasm, and were moreover the days of my boyhood." "pleasant were those days," and there is a "melancholy pleasure" in recalling them. the two combine in this autobiography with strange effect, for they set the man side by side with the child as an invisible companion haunting him. whatever was the change that came over borrow in the 'forties, and showed itself in melancholy and unrest, this long-continued contemplation of his childhood betrayed him into a profound change of tone. neither africa nor the east could have shown him as much mystery as this wide england of a child ignorant of geography, and it kept hold of him for twice as long as spain. it offered him relief and escape, and gladly did he accept them, and deeply he indulged in them. he found that he had that within himself as wild as any mountain or maniac-haunted ruin of spain. for example, he recalled his schooldays in ireland, and how one day he set out to visit his elder brother, the boy lieutenant: "the distance was rather considerable, yet i hoped to be back by evening fall, for i was now a shrewd walker, thanks to constant practice. i set out early, and, directing my course towards the north, i had in less than two hours accomplished considerably more than half of the journey. the weather had been propitious: a slight frost had rendered the ground firm to the tread, and the skies were clear; but now a change came over the scene, the skies darkened, and a heavy snow-storm came on; the road then lay straight through a bog, and was bounded by a deep trench on both sides; i was making the best of my way, keeping as nearly as i could in the middle of the road, lest, blinded by the snow which was frequently borne into my eyes by the wind, i might fall into the dyke, when all at once i heard a shout to windward, and turning my eyes i saw the figure of a man, and what appeared to be an animal of some kind, coming across the bog with great speed, in the direction of myself; the nature of the ground seemed to offer but little impediment to these beings, both clearing the holes and abysses which lay in their way with surprising agility; the animal was, however, some slight way in advance, and, bounding over the dyke, appeared on the road just before me. it was a dog, of what species i cannot tell, never having seen the like before or since; the head was large and round; the ears so tiny as scarcely to be discernible; the eyes of a fiery red; in size it was rather small than large; and the coat, which was remarkably smooth, as white as the falling flakes. it placed itself directly in my path, and showing its teeth, and bristling its coat, appeared determined to prevent my progress. i had an ashen stick in my hand, with which i threatened it; this, however, only served to increase its fury; it rushed upon me, and i had the utmost difficulty to preserve myself from its fangs. "'what are you doing with the dog, the fairy dog?' said a man, who at this time likewise cleared the dyke at a bound. "he was a very tall man, rather well dressed as it should seem; his garments, however, were like my own, so covered with snow that i could scarcely discern their quality. "'what are ye doing with the dog of peace?' "'i wish he would show himself one,' said i; 'i said nothing to him, but he placed himself in my road, and would not let me pass.' "'of course he would not be letting you till he knew where ye were going.' "'he's not much of a fairy,' said i, 'or he would know that without asking; tell him that i am going to see my brother.' "'and who is your brother, little sas?' "'what my father is, a royal soldier.' "'oh, ye are going then to the detachment at ---; by my shoul, i have a good mind to be spoiling your journey.' "'you are doing that already,' said i, 'keeping me here talking about dogs and fairies; you had better go home and get some salve to cure that place over your eye; it's catching cold you'll be in so much snow.' "on one side of the man's forehead there was a raw and staring wound, as if from a recent and terrible blow. "'faith, then, i'll be going, but it's taking you wid me i will be.' "'and where will you take me?' "'why, then, to ryan's castle, little sas.' "'you do not speak the language very correctly,' said i; 'it is not sas you should call me--'tis sassanach,' and forthwith i accompanied the word with a speech full of flowers of irish rhetoric. "the man looked upon me for a moment, fixedly, then, bending his head towards his breast, he appeared to be undergoing a kind of convulsion, which was accompanied by a sound something resembling laughter; presently he looked at me, and there was a broad grin on his features. "'by my shoul, it's a thing of peace i'm thinking ye.' "but now with a whisking sound came running down the road a hare; it was nearly upon us before it perceived us; suddenly stopping short, however, it sprang into the bog on the right-hand side; after it amain bounded the dog of peace, followed by the man, but not until he had nodded to me a farewell salutation. in a few moments i lost sight of him amidst the snow-flakes." this is more magical than nine-tenths of the deliberately celtic prose or verse. i mean that it is real and credible and yet insubstantial, the too too solid flesh is melted into something like the mist over the bogland, and it recalls to us times when an account of our physical self, height, width, weight, colour, age, etc., would bear no relation whatever to the true self. in part, this effect may be due to ireland and to the fact that borrow was only there for one short impressionable year of his boyhood, and had never seen any other country like it. but most of it is due to borrow's nature and the conditions under which the autobiography was composed. while he was writing it he was probably living a more solitary and sedentary life than ever before, and could hear the voices of solitude; he was not the busy riding missionary of "the bible in spain," nor the feted author, but the unsocial morbid tinker, philologist, boxer, and religious doubter. it has been said that "he was a celt of celts. his genius was truly celtic." { a} it has been said that "he inherited nothing from norfolk save his accent and his love of 'leg of mutton and turnips.'" { b} yet his father, the cornish "celt," appears to have been entirely unlike him, while he draws his mother, the norfolk huguenot, as innately sympathetic with himself. i am content to leave this mystery for celts and anti-celts to grow lean on. i have known celts who said that five and five were ten or, at most, eleven; and saxons who said twenty-five, and even fifty-five. borrow was writing without note books: things had therefore in his memory the importance which his nature had decreed for them, and among these things no doubt he exercised a conscious choice. behind all was the inexplicable singular force which, celtic or not, gave the "dream"-like, illusory quality which pervades the books in spite of more positive and arresting qualities sometimes apparently hostile to this one. it is true that his books have in them many rude or simple characters of gypsies, jockeys, and others, living chiefly by their hands, and it is part of the conscious and unconscious object of the books to exalt them. but these people in borrow's hands seldom or never give the impression of coarse solid bodies well endowed with the principal appetites. there is, for example, a famous page where the young doubting borrow listens to a wesleyan preacher and wishes that his life had been like that man's, and then comes upon his gypsy friend after a long absence. he asks the gypsy for news and hears of some deaths: "'what is your opinion of death, mr. petulengro?' said i, as i sat down beside him "'my opinion of death, brother, is much the same as that in the old song of pharaoh, which i have heard my grandam sing-- "canna marel o manus chivios ande puv, ta rovel pa leste o chavo ta romi." when a man dies, he is cast into the earth, and his wife and child sorrow over him. if he has neither wife nor child, then his father and mother, i suppose; and if he is quite alone in the world, why, then, he is cast into the earth, and there is an end of the matter.' "'and do you think that is the end of man?' "'there's an end of him, brother, more's the pity.' "'why do you say so?' "'life is sweet, brother.' "'do you think so?' "'think so!--there's night and day, brother, both sweet things; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet things; there's likewise a wind on the heath. life is very sweet, brother; who would wish to die?' "'i would wish to die--' "'you talk like a gorgio--which is the same as talking like a fool--were you a rommany chal you would talk wiser. wish to die, indeed!--a rommany chal would wish to live for ever!" "'in sickness, jasper?' "'there's the sun and stars, brother.' "'in blindness, jasper?' "'there's the wind on the heath, brother; if i could only feel that, i would gladly live for ever. dosta, we'll now go to the tents and put on the gloves; and i'll try to make you feel what a sweet thing it is to be alive, brother!'" but how delicate it is, the two lads talking amidst the furze of mousehold heath at sunset. and so with the rest. as he grows older the atmosphere thins but never quite fades away; even thurtell, the bull-necked friend of bruisers, is as much a spirit as a man. mr. watts-dunton has complained { } that borrow makes isopel taller than borrow, and therefore too tall for beauty. but borrow was not writing for readers who knew, or for those who, if they knew, always remembered, that he was six-feet-two. we know that lavengro is tall, but we are not told so just before hearing that isopel is taller; and the effect is that we think, not too distinctly, of a girl who somehow succeeds in being very tall and beautiful. if borrow had said: "whereas i was six feet two inches, the girl was six feet two and three-quarter inches," it would have been different, and it would not have been borrow, who, as i say, was not writing of ponderable, measurable bodies, but of possible immortal souls curiously dressed in flesh that can be almost as invisible. so again, mr. watts-dunton says: "with regard to isopel berners, neither lavengro, nor the man she thrashed when he stole one of her flaxen hairs to conjure with, gives the reader the faintest idea of isopel's method of attack or defence, and we have to take her prowess on trust. in a word borrow was content to give us the wonderful, without taking that trouble to find for it a logical basis which a literary master would have taken. and instances might easily be multiplied of this exaggeration of borrow's, which is apt to lend a sense of unreality to some of the most picturesque pages of 'lavengro.'" but would mr. watts-dunton seriously like to have these scenes touched up by driscoll or sullivan. borrow did not write for real or imaginary connoisseurs. i do not mean that a man need sacrifice his effect upon the ordinary man by satisfying the connoisseur. no one, for example, will deny that a ship by mr. joseph conrad is as beautiful and intelligible as one by stevenson; but neither would it be safe to foretell that mr. conrad's, the more accurate, will seem the more like life in fifty years' time. borrow is never technical. if he quotes gypsy it is not for the sake of the colour effect on those who read gypsy as they run. his effects are for a certain distance and in a certain atmosphere where technicality would be impertinent. mr. hindes groome { a} was more justified in saying: "mr. borrow, no doubt, knows the gypsies well, and could describe them perfectly. but his love of effect leads him away. in his wish to impress his reader with a certain mysterious notion of himself, he colours his gypsy pictures (the _form_ of which is quite accurate) in a fantastic style, which robs them altogether of the value they would have as studies from life." for groome wrote simply as a gypsy student. he collected data which can be verified, but do not often give an impression of life, except the life of a young cambridge man who is devoted to gypsies. the "athenaeum" reviewer { b} begs the question by calling the gypsy dialogues of hindes groome, photographic; and is plainly inaccurate in saying that if they are compared with those in "lavengro" "the illusion in borrow's narrative is disturbed by the uncolloquial vocabulary of the speakers." for borrow's dialogues do produce an effect of some kind of life; those of hindes groome instruct us or pique our curiosity, but unless we know gypsies, they produce no life-like effect. who else but borrow could make the old viper-catcher thus describe the king of the vipers?-- "it may be about seven years ago that i happened to be far down yonder to the west, on the other side of england, nearly two hundred miles from here, following my business. it was a very sultry day, i remember, and i had been out several hours catching creatures. it might be about three o'clock in the afternoon, when i found myself on some heathy land near the sea, on the ridge of a hill, the side of which, nearly as far down as the sea, was heath; but on the top there was arable ground, which had been planted, and from which the harvest had been gathered--oats or barley, i know not which--but i remember that the ground was covered with stubble. well, about three o'clock, as i told you before, what with the heat of the day and from having walked about for hours in a lazy way, i felt very tired; so i determined to have a sleep, and i laid myself down, my head just on the ridge of the hill, towards the field, and my body over the side down amongst the heath; my bag, which was nearly filled with creatures, lay at a little distance from my face; the creatures were struggling in it, i remember, and i thought to myself, how much more comfortably off i was than they; i was taking my ease on the nice open hill, cooled with the breezes, whilst they were in the nasty close bag, coiling about one another, and breaking their very hearts all to no purpose; and i felt quite comfortable and happy in the thought, and little by little closed my eyes, and fell into the sweetest snooze that ever i was in in all my life; and there i lay over the hill's side, with my head half in the field, i don't know how long, all dead asleep. at last it seemed to me that i heard a noise in my sleep, something like a thing moving, very faint, however, far away; then it died, and then it came again upon my ear, as i slept, and now it appeared almost as if i heard crackle, crackle; then it died again, or i became yet more dead asleep than before, i know not which, but i certainly lay some time without hearing it. all of a sudden i became awake, and there was i, on the ridge of the hill, with my cheek on the ground towards the stubble, with a noise in my ear like that of something moving towards me, among the stubble of the field; well, i lay a moment or two listening to the noise, and then i became frightened, for i did not like the noise at all, it sounded so odd; so i rolled myself on my belly, and looked towards the stubble. mercy upon us! there was a huge snake, or rather a dreadful viper, for it was all yellow and gold, moving towards me, bearing its head about a foot and a half above the ground, the dry stubble crackling beneath its outrageous belly. it might be about five yards off when i first saw it, making straight towards me, child, as if it would devour me. i lay quite still, for i was stupefied with horror, whilst the creature came still nearer; and now it was nearly upon me, when it suddenly drew back a little, and then--what do you think?--it lifted its head and chest high in the air, and high over my face as i looked up, flickering at me with its tongue as if it would fly at my face. child, what i felt at that moment i can scarcely say, but it was a sufficient punishment for all the sins i ever committed; and there we two were, i looking up at the viper, and the viper looking down upon me, flickering at me with its tongue. it was only the kindness of god that saved me: all at once there was a loud noise, the report of a gun, for a fowler was shooting at a covey of birds, a little way off in the stubble. whereupon the viper sunk its head and immediately made off over the ridge of the hill, down in the direction of the sea. as it passed by me, however--and it passed close by me--it hesitated a moment, as if it was doubtful whether it should not seize me; it did not, however, but made off down the hill. it has often struck me that he was angry with me, and came upon me unawares for presuming to meddle with his people, as i have always been in the habit of doing." the passages quoted from "lavengro" are representative only of the _spirit_ of the book, which, as i have suggested, diminishes with borrow's increasing years, but pervades the physical activity, the "low life" and open air, and prevails over them. i will give one other example of his by no means everyday magic--the incident of the poisoned cake. the gypsy girl leonora discovers him and betrays him to his enemy, old hairy mrs. herne: "leaning my back against the tree i was not long in falling into a slumber; i quite clearly remember that slumber of mine beneath the ash tree, for it was about the sweetest slumber that i ever enjoyed; how long i continued in it i don't know; i could almost have wished that it had lasted to the present time. all of a sudden it appeared to me that a voice cried in my ear, 'danger! danger! danger!' nothing seemingly could be more distinct than the words which i heard; then an uneasy sensation came over me, which i strove to get rid of, and at last succeeded, for i awoke. the gypsy girl was standing just opposite to me, with her eyes fixed upon my countenance; a singular kind of little dog stood beside her. "'ha!' said i, 'was it you that cried danger? what danger is there?' "'danger, brother, there is no danger; what danger should there be? i called to my little dog, but that was in the wood; my little dog's name is not danger, but stranger; what danger should there be, brother.' "'what, indeed, except in sleeping beneath a tree; what is that you have got in your hand?' "'something for you,' said the girl, sitting down and proceeding to untie a white napkin; 'a pretty manricli, so sweet, so nice; when i went home to my people i told my grandbebee how kind you had been to the poor person's child, and when my grandbebee saw the kekaubi, she said, "hir mi devlis, it won't do for the poor people to be ungrateful; by my god, i will bake a cake for the young harko mescro."' "'but there are two cakes.' "'yes, brother, two cakes, both for you; my grandbebee meant them both for you--but list, brother, i will have one of them for bringing them. i know you will give me one, pretty brother, grey-haired brother--which shall i have, brother?' "in the napkin were two round cakes, seemingly made of rich and costly compounds, and precisely similar in form, each weighing about half a pound. "'which shall i have, brother?' said the gypsy girl. "'whichever you please.' "'no, brother, no, the cakes are yours, not mine, it is for you to say.' "'well, then, give me the one nearest you, and take the other.' "'yes, brother, yes,' said the girl; and taking the cakes, she flung them into the air two or three times, catching them as they fell, and singing the while. 'pretty brother, grey-haired brother--here, brother,' said she, 'here is your cake, this other is mine. . . .'" i cannot afford to quote the whole passage, but it is at once as real and as phantasmal as the witch scene in "macbeth." he eats the poisoned cake and lies deadly sick. mrs. herne and leonora came to see the effect of the poison: "'ha, ha! bebee, and here he lies, poisoned like a hog.' "'you have taken drows, sir,' said mrs. herne; 'do you hear, sir? drows; tip him a stave, child, of the song of poison.' "and thereupon the girl clapped her hands, and sang-- "the rommany churl and the rommany girl to-morrow shall hie to poison the sty, and bewitch on the mead the farmer's steed." "'do you hear that, sir?' said mrs. herne; 'the child has tipped you a stave of the song of poison: that is, she has sung it christianly, though perhaps you would like to hear it romanly; you were always fond of what was roman. tip it him romanly, child.'" it is not much use to remark on "the uncolloquial vocabulary of the speakers." iago's vocabulary is not colloquial when he says: "not poppy nor mandragora nor all the drowsy syrups of the world shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep that thou ow'dst yesterday." borrow is not describing gypsy life but the "dream" of his own early life. i should say that he succeeds, because his words work upon the indifferent reader in something like the same way as memory worked upon himself. the physical activity, the "low life," and the open air of the books are powerful. these and the england of his youth gave borrow his refuge from middle age and victorian england of the middle class. "youth," he says in "the romany rye," "is the only season for enjoyment, and the first twenty-five years of one's life are worth all the rest of the longest life of man, even though these five and twenty be spent in penury and contempt, and the rest in the possession of wealth, honour, respectability, ay, and many of them in strength and health. . . ." still more emphatically did he think the same when he was looking on his past life in the dingle, feeling his arms and thighs and teeth, which were strong and sound; "so now was the time to labour, to marry, to eat strong flesh, and beget strong children--the power of doing all this would pass away with youth, which was terribly transitory." {picture: view on mousehold heath, near norwich. (from the painting by "old crome" in the national gallery.) photo: w. j. roberts: page .jpg} youth and strength or their extreme opposites alone attracted him, and therefore he is best in writing of men, if we except the tall brynhild, isopel, and the old witch, mrs. herne, than whom "no she bear of lapland ever looked more fierce and hairy." in the same breath as he praises youth he praises england, pouring scorn on those who traverse spain and portugal in quest of adventures, "whereas there are ten times more adventures to be met with in england than in spain, portugal, or stupid germany to boot." it was the old england before railways, though mr. petulengro heard a man speaking of a wonderful invention that "would set aside all the old roads, which in a little time would be ploughed up, and sowed with corn, and cause all england to be laid down with iron roads, on which people would go thundering along in vehicles, pushed forward by fire and smoke." borrow makes another of his characters also foretell the triumph of railways, and i insist on quoting part of the sentence as another example of borrow's mysterious way: the speaker has had his information from the projector of the scheme: "which he has told me many of the wisest heads of england have been dreaming of during a period of six hundred years, and which it seems was alluded to by a certain brazen head in the story-book of friar bacon, who is generally supposed to have been a wizard, but in reality was a great philosopher. young man, in less than twenty years, by which time i shall be dead and gone, england will be surrounded with roads of metal, on which armies may travel with mighty velocity, and of which the walls of brass and iron by which the friar proposed to defend his native land are types." and yet he makes little of the practical difference between the england of railways and the england of coaches; in fact he hated the bullying coachmen so that he expressed nothing but gladness when they had disappeared from the road. no: it was first as the england of the successful wars with napoleon, and second as the england of his youth that he idealised it--the country of byron and farmer george, not that of tennyson, victoria and albert; for as byron was one of the new age and yet looked back to pope and down on wordsworth, so did borrow look back. his english geography is far vaguer than his spanish. he creeps--walking or riding--over this land with more mystery. the variety and difficulties of the roads were less, and actual movement fills very few pages. he advances not so much step by step as adventure by adventure. well might he say, a little impudently, "there is not a chapter in the present book which is not full of adventures, with the exception of the present one, and this is not yet terminated"--it ends with a fall from his horse which stuns him. there is an air of somnambulism about some of the travel, especially when he is escaping alone from london and hack- writing. he shows great art in his transitions from day to day, from scene to scene, making it natural that one hour of one day should have the importance of the whole of another year, and one house more than the importance of several day's journeys. it matters not that he crammed more than was possible between greenwich and horncastle fairs, probably by transplanting earlier or later events. time and space submit to him: his old schoolfellows were vainly astonished that he gave no chapters to them and his years at norwich grammar school. thus england seems a great and a strange land on borrow's page, though he does not touch the sea or the mountains, or any celebrated places except stonehenge. his england is strange, i think, because it is presented according to a purely spiritual geography in which the childish drawling of "witney on the windrush manufactures blankets," etc., is utterly forgot. few men have the courage or the power to be honestly impressionistic and to say what they feel instead of compromising between that and what they believe to be "the facts." it is also strange on account of the many adventures which it provides, and these will always attract attention, because england in is not what it was in , but still more because few men, especially writing men, ever take their chance upon the roads of england for a few months together. at the same time it must be granted that borrow had a morbid fear of being dull or at least of being ordinary. he was a partly conscious provider of entertainment when he made the book so thick with incidents, scenes and portraits, and each incident, scene and portrait so perfect after its kind. where he overdoes his emphasis or refinement, can only be decided by differing tastes. some, for example, cannot abide his description of the sleepless man who had at last discovered a perfect opiate in wordsworth's poetry. i find myself stopping short at the effect of sherry and popish leanings on the publican and his trade, and still more the effect of his return to ale and commonsense religion: how everyone bought his liquids and paid for them and wanted to treat him, while the folk of his parish had already made him a churchwarden. this might have been writ sarcastic by a witty papist. probably borrow used the device of recognition and reappearances to satisfy a rather primitive taste in fiction, and to add to the mystery, though i will again suggest that a man who travelled and went about among men as he did would take less offence at these things. the re-appearances of jasper are natural enough, except at the ford when borrow is about to pass into wales: those of ardry less so. but when borrow contrives to hear more of the old china collector and of isopel also from the jockey, and shuffles about the postillion, murtagh, the man in black, and platitude, and introduces sir john bowring for punishment, he makes "the romany rye" much inferior to "lavengro." these devices never succeed, except where their extravagance makes us laugh heartily--as when on salisbury plain he meets returning from botany bay the long lost son of his old london bridge apple-woman. the devices are unnecessary and remain as stiffening stains upon a book that is otherwise full of nature and human nature. chapter xxv--"lavengro" and "the romany rye": the characters as the atmosphere of the two autobiographical books is more intense and pure than that of "the bible in spain," so the characters in it are more elaborate. "the bible in spain" contained brilliant sketches and suggestions of men and women. in the autobiography even the sketches are intimate, like that of the "anglo-germanist," william taylor; and they are not less surprising than the spanish sketches, from the rommany chal who "fought in the old roman fashion. he bit, he kicked, and screamed like a wild cat of benygant; casting foam from his mouth, and fire from his eyes"--from this man upwards and downwards. some are highly finished, and these are not always the best. for example, the portrait of his father, the stiff, kindly, uncomprehending soldier, strikes me as a little too much "done to a turn." it is a little too like a man in a book, and so perfectly consistent, except for that one picturesque weakness--the battle with big ben, whose skin was like a toad. borrow probably saw and cared very little for his father, and therefore found it too easy to idealise and produce a mere type, chiefly out of his head. his mother is more certainly from life, and he could not detach himself from her sufficiently to make her clear; yet he makes her his own mother plainly enough. his brother has something of the same unreality and perfection as his father. these members of his family belong to one distinct class of studies which includes among others the publisher, sir richard phillips. they are of persons not quite of his world whom he presents to us with admiration, or, on the other hand, with dislike, but in either case without sympathy. they do not contribute much to the special character of the autobiography, except in humour. the interviews with sir richard phillips, in particular, give an example of borrow's obviously personal satire, poisonous and yet without rancour. he is a type. he is the charlatan, holy and massive and not perfectly self-convincing. when borrow's money was running low and he asked the publisher to pay for some contributions to a magazine, now deceased: "'sir,' said the publisher, 'what do you want the money for?' "'merely to live on,' i replied; 'it is very difficult to live in this town without money.' "'how much money did you bring with you to town?' demanded the publisher. "'some twenty or thirty pounds,' i replied. "'and you have spent it already?' "'no,' said i, 'not entirely; but it is fast disappearing.' "'sir,' said the publisher, 'i believe you to be extravagant; yes, sir, extravagant!' "'on what grounds do you suppose me to be so?' "'sir,' said the publisher, 'you eat meat.' "'yes,' said i, 'i eat meat sometimes; what should i eat?' "'bread, sir,' said the publisher; 'bread and cheese.' "'so i do, sir, when i am disposed to indulge; but i cannot often afford it--it is very expensive to dine on bread and cheese, especially when one is fond of cheese, as i am. my last bread and cheese dinner cost me fourteen pence. there is drink, sir; with bread and cheese one must drink porter, sir.' "'then, sir, eat bread--bread alone. as good men as yourself have eaten bread alone; they have been glad to get it, sir. if with bread and cheese you must drink porter, sir, with bread alone you can, perhaps, drink water, sir.' "however, i got paid at last for my writings in the review, not, it is true, in the current coin of the realm, but in certain bills; there were two of them, one payable at twelve, and the other at eighteen months after date." the incident serves to diversify the narrative, and may be taken from his own london experiences, while the particular merriment of the rhyme is borrow's; but it is not of the essence of the book, and fits only indifferently into the mysterious "arabian nights" london, the city of the gallant ardry and the old apple-woman who called him "dear" and called moll flanders "blessed mary flanders." sir richard will not mysteriously re-appear, nor will captain and mrs. borrow. i should say, in fact, that characters of this class have scarcely at all the power of motion. what is more, they take us not only a little way out of borrow's world sometimes, but away from borrow himself. apart from these characters, the men and women of "lavengro" and "the romany rye" are all in harmony with one another, with borrow, and with borrow's world. jasper petulengro and his wife, his sister ursula, the gigantic tawno chikno, the witch mrs. herne, and the evil sprite leonora, thurtell, the fighting men, the irish outlaw jerry grant, who was suspected of raising a storm by "something irish and supernatural" to win a fight, murtagh, that wicked innocent, the old apple-woman, blazing bosville, isopel berners, the jockey who drove one hundred and ten miles in eleven hours to see "the only friend he ever had in the world," john thurtell, and say, "god almighty bless you, jack!" before the drop fell, the old gentleman who had learned "sergeant broughton's guard" and knocked out the bullying coachman, the welsh preacher and his wife, the arcadian old bee-keeper, the rat-catcher--all these and their companions are woven into one piece by the genius of their creator, borrow. i can imagine them all greeting him together as the gypsies did, and much as the jockey did afterwards: "here the gipsy gemman see, with his roman jib and his rome and dree-- rome and dree, rum and dry rally round the rommany rye." he waves his wand and they disappear. he made them as jerry grant made the storm and beat sergeant bagg. in "lavengro" he actually does raise such a storm, though knapp affected to discover it in a newspaper of the period. sampson and martin are fighting at north walsham, and a storm comes on: "there's wind and dust, a crash, rain and hail; is it possible to fight amidst such a commotion? yes! the fight goes on; again the boy strikes the man full on the brow, but it is no use striking that man, his frame is of adamant. 'boy, thy strength is beginning to give way, thou art becoming confused'; the man now goes to work, amidst rain and hail. 'boy, thou wilt not hold out ten minutes longer against rain, hail, and the blows of such an antagonist.' "and now the storm was at its height; the black thundercloud had broken into many, which assumed the wildest shapes and the strangest colours, some of them unspeakably glorious; the rain poured in a deluge, and more than one water-spout was seen at no great distance: an immense rabble is hurrying in one direction; a multitude of men of all ranks, peers and yokels, prize-fighters and jews, and the last came to plunder, and are now plundering amidst that wild confusion of hail and rain, men and horses, carts and carriages. but all hurry in one direction, through mud and mire; there's a town only three miles distant which is soon reached, and soon filled, it will not contain one-third of that mighty rabble; but there's another town farther on--the good old city is farther on, only twelve miles; what's that! who'll stay here? onward to the old town. "hurry skurry, a mixed multitude of men and horses, carts and carriages, all in the direction of the old town; and, in the midst of all that mad throng, at a moment when the rain gushes were coming down with particular fury, and the artillery of the sky was pealing as i had never heard it peal before, i felt some one seize me by the arm--i turned round and beheld mr. petulengro. "'i can't hear you, mr. petulengro,' said i; for the thunder drowned the words which he appeared to be uttering. "'dearginni,' i heard mr. petulengro say, 'it thundereth. i was asking, brother, whether you believe in dukkeripens?' "'i do not, mr. petulengro; but this is strange weather to be asking me whether i believe in fortunes.' "'grondinni,' said mr. petulengro, 'it haileth. i believe in dukkeripens, brother.' "'and who has more right,' said i, 'seeing that you live by them? but this tempest is truly horrible.' "'dearginni, grondinni ta villaminni! it thundereth, it haileth, and also flameth,' said mr. petulengro. 'look up there, brother!' "i looked up. connected with this tempest there was one feature to which i have already alluded--the wonderful colours of the clouds. some were of vivid green; others of the brightest orange; others as black as pitch. the gypsy's finger was pointed to a particular part of the sky. "'what do you see there, brother?' "'a strange kind of cloud.' "'what does it look like, brother?' "'something like a stream of blood.' "'that cloud foreshoweth a bloody dukkeripen.' "'a bloody fortune!' said i. 'and whom may it betide?' "'who knows?' said the gypsy. "down the way, dashing and splashing, and scattering man, horse, and cart to the left and right, came an open barouche, drawn by four smoking steeds, with postillions in scarlet jackets, and leather skull-caps. two forms were conspicuous in it; that of the successful bruiser, and of his friend and backer, the sporting gentleman of my acquaintance. "'his!' said the gypsy, pointing to the latter, whose stern features wore a smile of triumph, as, probably recognizing me in the crowd, he nodded in the direction of where i stood, as the barouche hurried by. "there went the barouche, dashing through the rain gushes', and in it one whose boast it was that he was equal to 'either fortune.' many have heard of that man--many may be desirous of knowing yet more of him. i have nothing to do with that man's after life--he fulfilled his dukkeripen. 'a bad, violent man!' softly, friend; when thou wouldst speak harshly of the dead, remember that thou hast not yet fulfilled thy own dukkeripen!" as borrow fits these pugilists into the texture of his autobiography, so he does men who appear not once but a dozen times. take jasper petulengro out of the books and he does not amount to much. in them he is a figure of most masculine beauty, a king, a trickster, and thief, but simple, good with his fists, loving life, manly sport and fair play. he and borrow meet and shake hands as "brothers" when they are little boys. they meet again, by chance, as big boys, and jasper says: "your blood beat when mine was near, as mine always does at the coming of a brother; and we became brothers in that lane." jasper laughs at the sapengro and lavengro and horse-witch because he lacks two things, "mother sense and gentle rommany," and he has something to do with teaching borrow the gypsy tongue and gypsy ways, and the "mother sense" of shifting for himself. the gypsies approve him also as "a pure fist master." in return he teaches mrs. chikno's child to say his prayers in rommany. they were willing--all but mrs. herne--that he should marry mr. petulengro's sister, ursula. it is always by chance that they meet, and chance is very favourable. they meet at significant times, as when borrow has been troubled by the preacher and the state of his own soul, or when he is sick of london and hack-writing and poverty. in fact, the gypsies, and his "brother" jasper in particular, returning and returning, are the motive of the book. they connect borrow with what is strange, with what is simple, and with what is free. the very last words of "the romany rye," spoken as he is walking eastward, are "i shouldn't wonder if mr. petulengro and tawno chikno came originally from india. i think i'll go there." they are not a device. the re-appearances of these wandering men are for the most part only pleasantly unexpected. their mystery is the mystery of nature and life. they keep their language and their tents against the mass of civilization and length of time. they are foreigners but as native as the birds. it is borrow's triumph to make them as romantic as their reputation while yet satisfying gypsy students as to his facts. jasper is almost like a second self, a kind of more simple, atavistic self, to borrow, as in that characteristic picture, where he is drawing near to wales with his friends, the welsh preacher and his wife. a brook is the border and they point it out. there is a horseman entering it: "he stops in the middle of it as if to water his steed." they ask lavengro if he will come with them into wales. they persuade him: "'i will not go with you,' said i. 'dost thou see that man in the ford?' "'who is staring at us so, and whose horse has not yet done drinking? of course i see him.' "'i shall turn back with him. god bless you!' "'go back with him not,' said peter, 'he is one of those whom i like not, one of the clibberty-clabber, as master ellis wyn observes--turn not with that man.' "'go not back with him,' said winifred. 'if thou goest with that man, thou wilt soon forget all our profitable counsels; come with us.' "'i cannot; i have much to say to him. kosko divous, mr. petulengro.' "'kosko divvus, pal,' said mr. petulengro, riding through the water; 'are you turning back?' "i turned back with mr. petulengro." at another time jasper twists about like a weasel bewitching a bird, and in so doing puts pounds unnoticed into lavengro's pocket. lavengro is indignant at the pleasantry. but jasper insists; the money is for him to buy a certain horse; if he will not take the money and buy the horse there will be a quarrel. he has made the money by fair fighting in the ring, has nowhere to put it, and seriously thinks that it were best invested in this fine horse, which accordingly borrow purchases and takes across england, and sells at horncastle fair for pounds. the next scene shows tawno chikno at his best. borrow has been trotting the horse and racing it against a cob, amid a company that put him "wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse-races of the heathen north," so that he almost thought himself gunnar of lithend. but tawno was the man to try the horse at a jump, said jasper. tawno weighed sixteen stone, and the owner thought him more likely to break the horse's back. jasper became very much excited, and offered to forfeit a handful of guineas if harm was done. "'here's the man. here's the horse-leaper of the world. . . .' tawno, at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where he really looked like gunnar of hlitharend, save and except that the complexion of gunnar was florid, whereas that of tawno was of nearly mulatto darkness; and that all tawno's features were cast in the grecian model, whereas gunnar had a snub nose. 'there's a leaping-bar behind the house,' said the landlord. 'leaping-bar!' said mr. petulengro, scornfully. 'do you think my black pal ever rides at a leaping bar? no more than at a windle-straw. leap over that meadow wall, tawno.' just past the house, in the direction in which i had been trotting, was a wall about four feet high, beyond which was a small meadow. tawno rode the horse gently up to the wall, permitted him to look over, then backed him for about ten yards, and pressing his calves against the horse's sides, he loosed the rein, and the horse launching forward, took the leap in gallant style. 'well done, man and horse!' said mr. petulengro; 'now come back, tawno.' the leap from the side of the meadow was, however, somewhat higher; and the horse, when pushed at it, at first turned away; whereupon tawno backed him to a greater distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry; whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of his legs against it. 'a near thing,' said the landlord, 'but a good leap. now, no more leaping, so long as i have control over the animal.'" a very different beautiful scene is where mrs. petulengro braids isopel's fair hair in gypsy fashion, half against her will, and lavengro looks on, showing isopel at a glance his disapproval of the fashion, while petulengro admires it. if it is not too much to quote, i will do so, because it is the clearest and most detailed picture of more than one figure in the whole of the autobiography. mr. and mrs. petulengro have come to visit isopel, and lavengro has fetched her to his tent, where they are awaiting her: "so belle and i advanced towards our guests. as we drew nigh mr. petulengro took off his hat and made a profound obeisance to belle, whilst mrs. petulengro rose from her stool and made a profound curtsey. belle, who had flung her hair back over her shoulders, returned their salutations by bending her head, and after slightly glancing at mr. petulengro, fixed her large blue eyes full upon his wife. both these females were very handsome--but how unlike! belle fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair; mrs. petulengro with olive complexion, eyes black, and hair dark--as dark could be. belle, in demeanour calm and proud; the gypsy graceful, but full of movement and agitation. and then how different were those two in stature! the head of the romany rawnie scarcely ascended to the breast of isopel berners. i could see that mrs. petulengro gazed on belle with unmixed admiration: so did her husband. 'well,' said the latter, 'one thing i will say, which is, that there is only one on earth worthy to stand up in front of this she, and that is the beauty of the world, as far as man flesh is concerned, tawno chikno; what a pity he did not come down! . . .' "mrs. petulengro says: 'you are very beautiful, madam, though you are not dressed as i could wish to see you, and your hair is hanging down in sad confusion; allow me to assist you in arranging your hair, madam; i will dress it for you in our fashion; i would fain see how your hair would look in our poor gypsy fashion; pray allow me, madam?' and she took belle by the hand. "'i really can do no such thing,' said belle, withdrawing her hand; 'i thank you for coming to see me, but . . .' "'do allow me to officiate upon your hair, madam,' said mrs. petulengro; 'i should esteem your allowing me a great mark of condescension. you are very beautiful, madam, and i think you doubly so, because you are so fair; i have a great esteem for persons with fair complexions and hair; i have a less regard for people with dark hair and complexions, madam.' "'then why did you turn off the lord, and take up with me?' said mr. petulengro; 'that same lord was fair enough all about him.' "'people do when they are young and silly what they sometimes repent of when they are of riper years and understandings. i sometimes think that had i not been something of a simpleton, i might at this time be a great court lady. now, madam,' said she, again taking belle by the hand, 'do oblige me by allowing me to plait your hair a little?' "'i have really a good mind to be angry with you,' said belle, giving mrs. petulengro a peculiar glance. "'do allow her to arrange your hair,' said i, 'she means no harm, and wishes to do you honour; do oblige her and me too, for i should like to see how your hair would look dressed in her fashion.' "'you hear what the young rye says?' said mrs. petulengro. 'i am sure you will oblige the young rye, if not myself. many people would be willing to oblige the young rye, if he would but ask them; but he is not in the habit of asking favours. he has a nose of his own, which he keeps tolerably exalted; he does not think small-beer of himself, madam; and all the time i have been with him, i never heard him ask a favour before; therefore, madam, i am sure you will oblige him.' . . ." the men talk together, jasper telling about the passing of the "old-fashioned good-tempered constables," the advent of railways, and the spoiling of road life. ". . . 'now, madam,' said mrs. petulengro, 'i have braided your hair in our fashion: you look very beautiful, madam; more beautiful, if possible, than before.' belle now rose, and came forward with her tire-woman. mr. petulengro was loud in his applause, but i said nothing, for i did not think belle was improved in appearance by having submitted to the ministry of mrs. petulengro's hand. nature never intended belle to appear as a gypsy; she had made her too proud and serious. a more proper part for her was that of a heroine, a queenly heroine,--that of theresa of hungary, for example; or, better still, that of brynhilda the valkyrie, the beloved of sigurd, the serpent-killer, who incurred the curse of odin, because, in the tumult of spears, she sided with the young king, and doomed the old warrior to die, to whom odin had promised victory. "belle looked at me for a moment in silence; then turning to mrs. petulengro, she said, 'you have had your will with me; are you satisfied?' 'quite so, madam,' said mrs. petulengro, 'and i hope you will be so too, as soon as you have looked in the glass.' 'i have looked in one already,' said belle,' and the glass does not flatter.' . . ." here it is easy to notice how the uncolloquial and even ugly english does not destroy the illusion of the scene, but entirely subserves it and makes these two or three pages fine painter's work for richness and still drama. i have not forgotten the man in black, though i gladly would. not that i am any more in sympathy with his theology than borrow's, if it is more interesting and venerable. but in this priest, borrow's method, always instinctively intense if not exaggerated, falls to caricature. i have no objection to caricature; when it is of a logical or incidental kind i enjoy it, even in "the romany rye"; i enjoy, for example, the snoring wordsworthian, without any prejudice against wordsworth. "the catholic times" as late as was still angry with borrow's "crass anti-catholic bigotry." i should have expected them to laugh consumedly at a priest, a parson and a publican who deserve places in the same gallery with wicked earls and noble savages of popular fiction. it may be true that this "creation of borrow's most studied hatred" is, as mr. seccombe says, { } "a triumph of complex characterisation." he is "a joyous liver and an unscrupulous libertine, sceptical as voltaire, as atheistic as a german professor, as practical as a jew banker, as subtle as a jesuit, he has as many ways of converting the folks among whom he is thrown as panurge had of eating the corn in ear. for the simple and credulous--crosses and beads; for the hard-hearted and venal--material considerations; for the cultured and educated--a fine tissue of epigrams and anthropology; for the ladies--flattery and badinage. a spiritual ancestor of anatole france's marvellous full-length figure of jerome coignard, borrow's conception takes us back first to rabelais and secondly to the seventeenth-century conviction of the profound machiavellism of jesuitry." but in "lavengro" and "the romany rye" he is an intruder with a design of turning these books into tracts. he is treated far more elaborately than any other character except the author's, and with a massive man's striving after subtlety. moreover, borrow has made it impossible to ignore him or to cut him out, by interlacing him with every other character in these two books. with sad persistency and naive ingenuity he brings it about that every one shall see, or have seen in the past, this terrible priest. borrow's natural way of dealing with such a man would be that of the converted pugilist who, on hearing of an atheist in the vicinity, wanted to go and "knock the beggar down for jesus' sake"; and a variation upon this would have been delightful and in harmony with the rest of the book. but clever as the priest is, borrow himself is stronger, honester and cleverer, too. of course, the priest leads him to some good things. above all, he leads to the incident of the half-converted publican, who is being ruined by sherry and popery. borrow pursuades him to take ale, which gives him the courage to give up thoughts of conversion, and to turn on his enemies and re-establish himself, to make a good business, become a churchwarden, and teach boxing to the brewer's sons, because it is "a fine manly english art and a great defence against popery." it is at least a greater defence than borrow's pen, or deserves to be. chapter xxvi--"lavengro" and "the romany rye": the style the writing of the autobiography differs from that of "the bible in spain." it is less flowing and more laboured. it has less movement and buoyancy, but more delicacy and variety. it is a finer and more intimate style, which over and over again distinguishes borrow from the victorian pure and simple. the dialogue is finer; it is used less to disguise or vary narrative, and more to reveal character and make dramatic effect; and it is even lyrical at times. borrow can be victorian still. this example is from the old man's history in "the romany rye": "my mother had died about three years previously. i felt the death of my mother keenly, but that of my father less than was my duty; indeed, truth compels me to acknowledge that i scarcely regretted his death. the cause of this want of proper filial feeling was the opposition which i had experienced from him in an affair which deeply concerned me. i had formed an attachment for a young female in the neighbourhood, who, though poor, was of highly respectable birth, her father having been a curate of the established church." this better one is from "lavengro": "and then francis ardry proceeded to make me his confidant. it appeared that he had had the good fortune to make the acquaintance of the most delightful young frenchwoman imaginable, annette la noire by name, who had just arrived from her native country with the intention of obtaining the situation of governess in some english family; a position which, on account of her many accomplishments, she was eminently qualified to fill. francis ardry had, however, persuaded her to relinquish her intention for the present, on the ground that, until she had become acclimated in england, her health would probably suffer from the confinement inseparable from the occupation in which she was desirous of engaging; he had, moreover--for it appeared that she was the most frank and confiding creature in the world--succeeded in persuading her to permit him to hire for her a very handsome first floor in his own neighbourhood, and to accept a few inconsiderable presents in money and jewellery." but coarse and rigid as this is the same vocabulary, the same ample, oratorical tone, will help borrow to genial, substantial effects such as the dinner with the landlord and the commercial traveller: "the dinner was good, though plain, consisting of boiled mackerel--rather a rarity in those parts at that time--with fennel sauce, a prime baron of roast beef after the mackerel, then a tart and noble cheshire cheese; we had prime sherry at dinner, and whilst eating the cheese prime porter, that of barclay, the only good porter in the world. after the cloth was removed we had a bottle of very good port; and whilst partaking of the port i had an argument with the commercial traveller on the subject of the corn-laws." what is more, this is the vocabulary and tone of the whole book, and how far the total effect is from coarseness and rigidity i cannot show now if i have not done so already. borrow's gusto triumphs over this style in descriptions of men riding, fighting, talking or drinking. his sense of mystery triumphs over it continually as the prevailing atmosphere must prove. the gusto and the mystery are all the more impressive because the means are entirely concealed, except when the writer draws himself up for an apostrophe, and that is not much too often nor always tedious. the style is capable of essential simplicity, though not of refined simplicity, just as a man with a hard hat, black clothes and a malacca cane may be a good deal simpler and more at home with natural things than a hairy hygienic gentleman. i will quote one example--the old bee-keeper in "the romany rye": "i was bidding him farewell, when he hemmed once or twice, and said that as he did not live far off, he hoped that i would go with him and taste some of his mead. as i had never tasted mead, of which i had frequently read in the compositions of the welsh bards, and, moreover, felt rather thirsty from the heat of the day, i told him that i should have great pleasure in attending him. whereupon, turning off together, we proceeded about half a mile, sometimes between stone walls, and at other times hedges, till we reached a small hamlet, through which we passed, and presently came to a very pretty cottage, delightfully situated within a garden, surrounded by a hedge of woodbines. opening a gate at one corner of the garden, he led the way to a large shed which stood partly behind the cottage, which he said was his stable; thereupon he dismounted and led his donkey into the shed, which was without stalls, but had a long rack and manger. on one side he tied his donkey, after taking off her caparisons, and i followed his example, tying my horse at the other side with a rope halter which he gave me; he then asked me to come in and taste his mead, but i told him that i must attend to the comfort of my horse first, and forthwith, taking a wisp of straw, rubbed him carefully down. then taking a pailful of clear water which stood in the shed, i allowed the horse to drink about half a pint; and then turning to the old man, who all the time had stood by looking at my proceedings, i asked him whether he had any oats? 'i have all kinds of grain,' he replied; and, going out, he presently returned with two measures, one a large and the other a small one, both filled with oats, mixed with a few beans, and handing the large one to me for the horse, he emptied the other before the donkey, who, before she began to despatch it, turned her nose to her master's face and fairly kissed him. having given my horse his portion, i told the old man that i was ready to taste his mead as soon as he pleased, whereupon he ushered me into his cottage, where, making me sit down by a deal table in a neatly-sanded kitchen, he produced from an old- fashioned closet a bottle, holding about a quart, and a couple of cups, which might each contain about half a pint, then opening the bottle and filling the cups with a brown-coloured liquor, he handed one to me, and taking a seat opposite to me, he lifted the other, nodded, and saying to me--'health and welcome,' placed it to his lips and drank. "'health and thanks,' i replied; and being very thirsty, emptied my cup at a draught; i had scarcely done so, however, when i half repented. the mead was deliciously sweet and mellow, but appeared strong as brandy; my eyes reeled in my head, and my brain became slightly dizzy. 'mead is a strong drink,' said the old man, as he looked at me, with a half smile on his countenance. 'this is, at any rate,' said i, 'so strong, indeed, that i would not drink another cup for any consideration.' 'and i would not ask you,' said the old man; 'for, if you did, you would most probably be stupid all day, and wake next morning with a headache. mead is a good drink, but woundily strong, especially to those who be not used to it, as i suppose you are not.' 'where do you get it?' said i. 'i make it myself,' said the old man, 'from the honey which my bees make.' 'have you many bees?' i inquired. 'a great many,' said the old man. 'and do you keep them,' said i, 'for the sake of making mead with their honey?' 'i keep them,' he replied, 'partly because i am fond of them, and partly for what they bring me in; they make me a great deal of honey, some of which i sell, and with a little i make me some mead to warm my poor heart with, or occasionally to treat a friend with like yourself.' 'and do you support yourself entirely by means of your bees?' 'no,' said the old man; 'i have a little bit of ground behind my house, which is my principal means of support.' 'and do you live alone?' 'yes,' said he; 'with the exception of the bees and the donkey, i live quite alone.' 'and have you always lived alone?' the old man emptied his cup, and his heart being warmed with the mead, he told me his history, which was simplicity itself. his father was a small yeoman, who, at his death, had left him, his only child, the cottage, with a small piece of ground behind it, and on this little property he had lived ever since. about the age of twenty- five he had married an industrious young woman, by whom he had one daughter, who died before reaching years of womanhood. his wife, however, had survived her daughter many years, and had been a great comfort to him, assisting him in his rural occupations; but, about four years before the present period, he had lost her, since which time he had lived alone, making himself as comfortable as he could; cultivating his ground, with the help of a lad from the neighbouring village, attending to his bees, and occasionally riding his donkey to market, and hearing the word of god, which he said he was sorry he could not read, twice a week regularly at the parish church. such was the old man's tale. "when he had finished speaking, he led me behind his house, and showed me his little domain. it consisted of about two acres in admirable cultivation; a small portion of it formed a kitchen garden, while the rest was sown with four kinds of grain, wheat, barley, pease, and beans. the air was full of ambrosial sweets, resembling those proceeding from an orange grove; a place, which though i had never seen at that time, i since have. in the garden was the habitation of the bees, a long box, supported upon three oaken stumps. it was full of small round glass windows, and appeared to be divided into a great many compartments, much resembling drawers placed sideways. he told me that, as one compartment was filled, the bees left it for another; so that, whenever he wanted honey, he could procure some without injuring the insects. through the little round windows i could see several of the bees at work; hundreds were going in and out of the doors; hundreds were buzzing about on the flowers, the woodbines, and beans. as i looked around on the well-cultivated field, the garden, and the bees, i thought i had never before seen so rural and peaceful a scene." it may be said of this that it is the style of the time, modified inexplicably at almost every point by the writer's character. the bible and the older-fashioned narrative english of defoe and smollett have obviously lent it some phrases, and also a nakedness and directness that is half disdainful of the emotions and colours which it cannot hide. still further to qualify the victorianism which he was heir to, borrow took over something from the insinuating sterne. mr. thomas seccombe { } has noticed sterne particularly in borrow's picture of his father, one of the most deliberate and artificial portions of the book: "the ironical humour blent with pathos in his picture of this ill-rewarded old disciplinarian (who combined a tenderness of heart with a fondness for military metaphor that frequently reminds one of 'my uncle toby'), the details of the ailments and the portents that attended his infantile career, and, above all, the glimpses of the wandering military life from barrack to barrack and from garrison to garrison, inevitably remind the reader of the childish reminiscences of laurence sterne, a writer to whom it may thus early be said that george borrow paid no small amount of unconscious homage." the same critic has remarked on "the sterne-like conclusion of a chapter: 'italy--what was i going to say about italy?'" it was perhaps sterne who taught him the use of the dash when no more words are necessary or ready to meet the case, and also when no more are permissible by contemporary taste. the passage where ardry and his french mistress talk to borrow, she using her own language, is like "the sentimental journey." and, as mr. seccombe has suggested, borrow found in sterne's a precedent for the rate of progress in his autobiography. but innumerable are the possible styles which combine something from the bible, defoe, and sterne, with something else upon a victorian foundation. borrow's something else, which dominates and welds the rest, is the most important. it expresses the man, or rather it allows the man's qualities to appear, his melancholy, his independence, his curiosity, his love of strong men and horses. of little felicities there are very few. it has gusto always at command, and mystery also. we feel in it a kind of reality not often associated with professional literature, but rather with the letters of men who are not writers and with the speech of illiterate men of character. the great difference between them and borrow is that their speech can rarely be represented in print except by another genius, and that their letters only now and then reach the level which borrow continues at and often rises above. yet he has something in common with such men--for example, in his feeling for nature. in spain, it is true, he gave way to declamatory descriptions of grandeur and desolation: in england, where he saw nothing of the kind, he wrote little description, and the impression of the country through which he is passing is that of an inarticulate outdoor man, strong and sincere but vague. here, again, he has something in common with the eighteenth- century man, who liked the country, but would probably agree that one green field was like another. he writes like the man who desired a gentle wife, an arabic book, the haunch of a buck, and madeira old. he reminds us of an even older or simpler type when he apostrophises the retired pugilist: "'tis a treat to see thee, tom of bedford, in thy 'public' in holborn way, whither thou hast retired with thy well-earned bays. 'tis friday night, and nine by holborn clock. there sits the yeoman at the end of his long room, surrounded by his friends: glasses are filled, and a song is the cry, and a song is sung well suited to the place; it finds an echo in every heart--fists are clenched, arms are waved, and the portraits of the mightly fighting men of yore, broughton, and slack, and ben, which adorn the walls, appear to smile grim approbation, whilst many a manly voice joins in the bold chorus: 'here's a health to old honest john bull, when he's gone we shan't find such another, and with hearts and with glasses brim full, we will drink to old england, his mother.'" there is little doubt of the immortality of this good old style, and it testifies to the full heart and perhaps the full glass also of george borrow; but it was not this passage in particular that made whitwell elwin call his writing "almost affectedly simple." {picture: ned turner, tom cribb: page .jpg} chapter xxvii--borrow and low life "lavengro" in and "the romany rye" in failed to impress the critics or the public. men were disappointed because "lavengro" was "not an autobiography." they said that the adventures did not bear "the impress of truth." they suggested that the anti-papistry was "added and interpolated to suit the occasion of the recent papal aggression." they laughed at its mystery-making. they said that it gave "a false dream in the place of reality." ford regretted that borrow had "told so little about himself." two friends praised it and foretold long life for it. whitwell elwin in said that "the truth and vividness of the descriptions both of scenes and persons, coupled with the purity, force and simplicity of the language, should confer immortality upon many of its pages." "the saturday review" found that he had humour and romance, and that his writing left "a general impression of the scenery and persons introduced so strongly vivid and life-like," that it reminded them of defoe rather than of any contemporary author; they called the books a "strange cross between a novel and an autobiography." in also, emile montegut wrote a study of "the gypsy gentleman," which he published in his "ecrivains modernes de l'angleterre." he said that borrow had revived a neglected literary form, not artificially, but as being the natural frame for the scenes of his wandering life: he even went so far as to say that the form and manner of the picaresque or rogue novel, like "gil blas," is the inevitable one for pictures of the low and vagabond life. this form, said he, borrow adopted not deliberately but intuitively, because he had a certain attitude to express: he rediscovered it, as cervantes and mendoza invented it, because it was the most appropriate clothing for his conceptions. borrow had, without any such ambition, become the quevedo and the mendoza of modern england. the autobiography resembles the rogue novel in that it is well peppered with various isolated narratives strung upon the thread of the hero's experience. it differs chiefly in that the study of the hero is serious and without roguery. the conscious attempt to make it as good as a rogue novel on its own ground caused some of the chief faults of the book, the excess of recognitions and re-appearances, the postillion's story, and the visits of the man in black. when borrow came to answer his critics in the appendix to "the romany rye," he assumed that they thought him vulgar for dealing in gypsies and the like. he retorted: "rank, wealth, fine clothes and dignified employments, are no doubt very fine things, but they are merely externals, they do not make a gentleman, they add external grace and dignity to the gentleman and scholar, but they make neither; and is it not better to be a gentleman without them than not a gentleman with them? is not lavengro, when he leaves london on foot with twenty pounds in his pocket, entitled to more respect than mr. flamson flaming in his coach with a million? and is not even the honest jockey at horncastle, who offers a fair price to lavengro for his horse, entitled to more than the scroundrel lord, who attempts to cheat him of one-fourth of its value. . . ." he might have said the books were a long tract to prove that many waters cannot quench gentlemanliness, or "once a gentleman always a gentleman." as a rule, when borrow gets away from life and begins to think about it, he ceases to be an individual and becomes a tame and entirely convenient member of society, fit for the commission of the peace or a berth at the british museum. after he has made pounds by pen-slavery and saved himself from serious poverty, he exclaims: "reader, amidst the difficulties and dangers of this life, should you ever be tempted to despair, call to mind these latter chapters of the life of lavengro. there are few positions, however difficult, from which dogged resolution and perseverance may not liberate you." when he comes to discuss his own work he says that "it represents him, however, as never forgetting that he is the son of a brave but poor gentleman, and that if he is a hack author, he is likewise a scholar. it shows him doing no dishonourable jobs, and proves that if he occasionally associates with low characters, he does so chiefly to gratify the curiosity of a scholar. in his conversations with the apple-woman of london bridge, the scholar is ever apparent, so again in his acquaintance with the man of the table, for the book is no raker up of the uncleanness of london, and if it gives what at first sight appears refuse, it invariably shows that a pearl of some kind, generally a philological one, is contained amongst it; it shows its hero always accompanied by his love of independence, scorning in the greatest poverty to receive favours from anybody, and describes him finally rescuing himself from peculiarly miserable circumstances by writing a book, an original book, within a week, even as johnson is said to have written his 'rasselas,' and beckford his 'vathek,' and tells how, leaving london, he betakes himself to the roads and fields. "in the country it shows him leading a life of roving adventure, becoming tinker, gypsy, postillion, ostler; associating with various kinds of people, chiefly of the lower classes, whose ways and habits are described; but, though leading this erratic life, we gather from the book that his habits are neither vulgar nor vicious, that he still follows to a certain extent his favourite pursuits, hunting after strange characters, or analysing strange words and names. at the conclusion of chapter xlvii., which terminates the first part of the history, it hints that he is about to quit his native land on a grand philological expedition. "those who read this book with attention--and the author begs to observe that it would be of little utility to read it hurriedly--may derive much information with respect to matters of philology and literature; it will be found treating of most of the principal languages from ireland to china, and of the literature which they contain. . . ." away from the dingle and jasper his view of life is as follows--ale, tate and brady, and the gloves: "but, above all, the care and providence of god are manifested in the case of lavengro himself, by the manner in which he is enabled to make his way in the world up to a certain period, without falling a prey either to vice or poverty. in his history there is a wonderful illustration of part of the text quoted by his mother, 'i have been young, and now am old, yet never saw i the righteous forsaken, or his seed begging bread.' he is the son of good and honourable parents, but at the critical period of life, that of entering into the world, he finds himself without any earthly friend to help him, yet he manages to make his way; he does not become a captain in the life guards, it is true, nor does he get into parliament, nor does the last chapter conclude in the most satisfactory and unobjectionable manner, by his marrying a dowager countess, as that wise man addison did, or by his settling down as a great country gentleman, perfectly happy and contented, like the very moral roderick random, or the equally estimable peregrine pickle; he is hack author, gypsy, tinker, and postillion, yet, upon the whole, he seems to be quite as happy as the younger sons of most earls, to have as high feelings of honour; and when the reader loses sight of him, he has money in his pocket honestly acquired, to enable him to commence a journey quite as laudable as those which the younger sons of earls generally undertake. surely all this is a manifestation of the kindness and providence of god: and yet he is not a religious person; up to the time when the reader loses sight of him, he is decidedly not a religious person; he has glimpses, it is true, of that god who does not forsake him, but he prays very seldom, is not fond of going to church; and, though he admires tate and brady's version of the psalms, his admiration is rather caused by the beautiful poetry which that version contains than the religion; yet his tale is not finished--like the tale of the gentleman who touched objects, and that of the old man who knew chinese without knowing what was o'clock; perhaps, like them, he is destined to become religious, and to have, instead of occasional glimpses, frequent and distinct views of his god; yet, though he may become religious, it is hardly to be expected that he will become a very precise and strait-laced person; it is probable that he will retain, with his scholarship, something of his gypsyism, his predilection for the hammer and tongs, and perhaps some inclination to put on certain gloves, not white kid, with any friend who may be inclined for a little old english diversion, and a readiness to take a glass of ale, with plenty of malt in it, and as little hop as may well be--ale at least two years old--with the aforesaid friend, when the diversion is over; for, as it is the belief of the writer that a person may get to heaven very comfortably without knowing what's o'clock, so it is his belief that he will not be refused admission there because to the last he has been fond of healthy and invigorating exercises, and felt a willingness to partake of any of the good things which it pleases the almighty to put within the reach of his children during their sojourn upon earth." it is quite evident then that borrow does not advocate the open air, the tinkers' trade, and a-roving-a-roving, for the sons of gentlemen. it is not apparent that the open air did his health much good. as for tinkering, it was, he declares, a necessity and for lack of anything better to do, and he realised that he was only playing at it. when he was looking for a subject for his pen he rejected harry simms and jemmy abershaw because both, though bold and extraordinary men, were "merely highwaymen." on the other hand, when he has known a "bad man" he cannot content himself with mere disapproval. take, for example, his friends the murderers, haggart and thurtell. he shows haggart as an ambitious lad too full of life, "with fine materials for a hero." he calls the fatalist's question: "can an arabian steed submit to be a vile drudge?"--nonsense, saying: "the greatest victory which a man can achieve is over himself, by which is meant those unruly passions which are not convenient to the time and place." then he exclaims: "but peace to thee, poor david! why should a mortal worm be sitting in judgment over thee? the mighty and just one has already judged thee, and perhaps above thou hast received pardon for thy crimes, which could not be pardoned here below; and now that thy feverish existence has closed, and thy once active form become inanimate dust, thy very memory all but forgotten, i will say a few words about thee, a few words soon also to be forgotten. thou wast the most extraordinary robber that ever lived within the belt of britain; scotland rang with thy exploits, and england, too, north of the humber; strange deeds also didst thou achieve when, fleeing from justice, thou didst find thyself in the sister isle; busy wast thou there in town and on curragh, at fair and race-course, and also in the solitary place. ireland thought thee her child, for who spoke her brogue better than thyself?--she felt proud of thee, and said, 'sure, o'hanlon is come again.' what might not have been thy fate in the far west in america, whither thou hadst turned thine eye, saying, 'i will go there, and become an honest man!' but thou wast not to go there, david--the blood which thou hadst shed in scotland was to be required of thee; the avenger was at hand, the avenger of blood. seized, manacled, brought back to thy native land, condemned to die, thou wast left in thy narrow cell, and told to make the most of thy time, for it was short; and there, in thy narrow cell, and thy time so short, thou didst put the crowning stone to thy strange deeds, by that strange history of thyself, penned by thine own hand in the robber tongue. thou mightest have been better employed, david!--but the ruling passion was strong with thee, even in the jaws of death. thou mightest have been better employed!--but peace be with thee, i repeat, and the almighty's grace and pardon." he makes the jockey speak in the same fashion of thurtell whom he went to see hanged, according to an old agreement: "i arrived at h--- just in the nick of time. there was the ugly jail--the scaffold--and there upon it stood the only friend i ever had in the world. driving my punch, which was all in a foam, into the midst of the crowd, which made way for me as if it knew what i came for, i stood up in my gig, took off my hat, and shouted, 'god almighty bless you, jack!' the dying man turned his pale grim face towards me--for his face was always somewhat grim, do you see--nodded and said, or i thought i heard him say, 'all right, old chap.' the next moment . . . my eyes water. he had a high heart, got into a scrape whilst in the marines, lost his half-pay, took to the turf, ring, gambling, and at last cut the throat of a villain who had robbed him of nearly all he had. but he had good qualities, and i know for certain that he never did half the bad things laid to his charge; for example, he never bribed tom oliver to fight cross, as it was said he did, on the day of the awful thunderstorm. ned flatnose fairly beat tom oliver, for though ned was not what's called a good fighter, he had a particular blow, which if he could put in he was sure to win. his right shoulder, do you see, was two inches farther back than it ought to have been, and consequently his right fist generally fell short; but if he could swing himself round, and put in a blow with that right arm, he could kill or take away the senses of anybody in the world. it was by putting in that blow in his second fight with spring that he beat noble tom. spring beat him like a sack in the first battle, but in the second ned painter--for that was his real name--contrived to put in his blow, and took the senses out of spring; and in like manner he took the senses out of tom oliver. "well, some are born to be hanged, and some are not; and many of those who are not hanged are much worse than those who are. jack, with many a good quality, is hanged, whilst that fellow of a lord, who wanted to get the horse from you at about two-thirds of his value, without a single good quality in the world, is not hanged, and probably will remain so. you ask the reason why, perhaps. i'll tell you: the lack of a certain quality called courage, which jack possessed in abundance, will preserve him; from the love which he bears his own neck he will do nothing that can bring him to the gallows." isopel berners, with moses and david in her mind, expresses borrow's private opinion more soberly when she says: "_fear god_, and take your own part. there's bible in that, young man; see how moses feared god, and how he took his own part against everybody who meddled with him. and see how david feared god, and took his own part against all the bloody enemies which surrounded him--so fear god, young man, and never give in! the world can bully, and is fond, provided it sees a man in a kind of difficulty, of getting about him, calling him coarse names, and even going so far as to hustle him; but the world, like all bullies, carries a white feather in its tail, and no sooner sees the man taking off his coat, and offering to fight its best, than it scatters here and there, and is always civil to him afterwards. so when folks are disposed to ill-treat you, young man, say 'lord, have mercy upon me!' and then tip them long melford, to which, as the saying goes, there is nothing comparable for shortness all the world over." {picture: the green, long melford, suffolk. photo: c. f. emeny, sudbury: page .jpg} he had probably a natural inclination towards a liberal or eccentric morality, but he was no thinker, and he gave way to a middle-class phraseology--with exceptions, as when he gives it as the opinion of his old master, the norwich solicitor, that "all first-rate thieves were sober, and of well-regulated morals, their bodily passions being kept in abeyance by their love of gain." sometimes borrow allows these two sides of him, his private and his social sides, to appear together dramatically. for example, he more than half seriously advises jasper to read the scriptures and learn his duty to his fellow-creatures and his duty to his own soul, lest he should be ranked with those who are "outcast, despised and miserable." whereupon jasper questions him and gets him to admit that the gypsies are very much like the cuckoos, roguish, chaffing birds that everybody is glad to see again: "'you would wish to turn the cuckoos into barn-door fowls, wouldn't you?' "'can't say i should, jasper, whatever some people might wish.' "'and the chals and chies into radical weavers and factory wenches, hey, brother?' "'can't say that i should, jasper. you are certainly a picturesque people, and in many respects an ornament both to town and country; painting and lil writing too are under great obligations to you. what pretty pictures are made out of your campings and groupings, and what pretty books have been written in which gypsies, or at least creatures intended to represent gypsies, have been the principal figures! i think if we were without you, we should begin to miss you.' "'just as you would the cuckoos, if they were all converted into barn- door fowls. i tell you what, brother, frequently as i have sat under a hedge in spring or summer time, and heard the cuckoo, i have thought that we chals and cuckoos are alike in many respects, but especially in character. everybody speaks ill of us both, and everybody is glad to see both of us again.' "'yes, jasper, but there is some difference between men and cuckoos; men have souls, jasper!' "'and why not cuckoos, brother?' "'you should not talk so, jasper; what you say is little short of blasphemy. how should a bird have a soul?' "'and how should a man?' "'oh, we know very well that a man has a soul.' "'how do you know it?' "'we know very well.' "'would you take your oath of it, brother--your bodily oath?' "'why, i think i might, jasper!'" there is no doubt that borrow liked a strong or an extraordinary man none the less for being a scoundrel. there is equally little doubt that he never demeaned himself with the lower orders. he never pretended, and was seldom taken, to be one of themselves. his attitude differed in degree, but not in kind, from that of a frank, free squire or parson towards keepers, fishermen or labourers. and if he did not drink and swear on an equality with them, neither did he crankily worship them as fitzgerald did "posh," the fisherman. they respected him--at least so he tells us--and he never gives himself away to any other effect--because he was honest, courageous and fair. thus he never gave cause for suspicion as a man does who throws off the cloak of class, and he was probably as interesting to them as they to him. nor did his refusal to adopt their ways and manners out and out prevent a very genuine kind of equality from existing between him and some of them. a man or woman of equal character and force became his equal, as jasper did, as isopel and david haggart did, and he accepted this equality without a trace of snobbishness. he says himself that he has "no abstract love for what is low, or what the world calls low." certainly there is nothing low in his familiars, as he presents them, at least nothing sordid. it may be the result of unconscious idealisation, but his gypsies have nothing more sordid about them than wild birds have. mrs. herne is diabolical, but in a manner that would not be unbecoming to a duchess. leonora is treacherous, but as an elf is permitted to be. as for jasper and mrs. petulengro, they are as radiant as mercutio and rosalind. they have all the sweetness of unimprisoned air: they would prefer, like borrow, "the sound of the leaves and the tinkling of the waters" to the parson and the church; and the smell of the stable, which is strong in "lavengro" and "the romany rye," to the smell of the congregation and the tombs. chapter xxviii--walking tours when borrow had almost finished "the romany rye" he went on a visit to his cousins in cornwall. the story of his saving a man's life in a stormy sea had reached them, and they sent him an invitation, which he accepted at christmas time in . he stayed for a fortnight with a cousin's married daughter, mrs. anne taylor, at penquite farm, near liskeard, and then several days again after a fortnight spent on a walk to land's end and back. in his last week he walked to tintagel and pentire. he was welcomed with hospitality and admiration. he in turn seems to have been pleased and at his ease, though he only understood half of what was said. those who remember his visit speak of his tears in the house where his father was born, of his sitting in the centre of a group telling stories of his travels and singing a gypsy song, of his singing foreign songs all day out of doors, of his fit of melancholy cured by scotch and irish airs played on the piano, of his violent opinions on sherry and "uncle tom's cabin," of his protesting against some sign of gentility by using a filthy rag as a pocket handkerchief, and that in a conspicuous manner, of his being vain and not proud, of his telling the children stories, of one child crying out at sight of him: "that _is_ a man!" he made his mark by unusual ways and by intellectual superiority to his rustic cousins. he rode about with one of his cousin's grandchildren. he walked hither and thither alone, doing as much as twenty-five miles a day with the help of "look out, look out, svend vonved," which he sang in the last dark stretches of road. mr. walling was "told that he roamed the caradons in all weathers without a hat, in search of sport and specimens, antiquities and dialects," but i should think the "specimens" were for the table. he talked to the men by the wayside or dived into the slums of liskeard for disreputable characters. he visited remarkable and famous places, and was delighted with "druidic" remains and tales of fairies. thus borrow made "fifty quarto pages" of notes, says knapp, about people, places, dialect, and folk lore. some of the notes are mere shorthand; some are rapid gossipy jottings; and they include; a verse translation of a cornish tale. a book on cornwall, to have grown out of these notes, was advertised; but it was never written. perhaps he found it hard to vivify or integrate his notes. in any case there could hardly have been any backbone to the book, and it would have been tourist's work, however good. he was not a man who wrote about everything; the impulse was lacking and he went on with the furious appendix to "the romany rye." in he paid a much longer visit to wales. he took his wife and daughter as far as llangollen, which he used as a centre during august. then he had ten days walking through corwen, cerrig-y-drudion, capel curig, bangor, anglesey, snowdon, beth gelert, festiniog, and bala. after three weeks more at llangollen, he had his boots soled and his umbrella mended, bought a leather satchel with a lock and key, and put in it a white linen shirt, a pair of worsted stockings, a razor, and a prayer book, and with twenty pounds in his pocket and his umbrella grasped in the middle, set out on a tour of three weeks. he travelled through the whole length of wales, by llangarmon, sycharth, bala, machynlleth, devil's bridge, plinlimmon, pont rhyd fendigaid, strata florida, tregaron, lampeter, pumpsaint, llandovery, llangadog, gwynfe, gutter fawr (brynamman), swansea, neath, merthyr, caerphilly, newport, and chepstow. he had loved the welsh bards and wales from his boyhood up, and these three months kept him occupied and happy. when at llangollen he walked during the day, and in the evening showed his wife and stepdaughter a view, if he had found one. his wife reported to his mother that she had reason to praise god for his condition. borrow was happy at seeing the places mentioned by the bards and the houses where some of them were born. "oh, the wild hills of wales," he exclaimed, "the land of old renown and of wonder, the land of arthur and merlin!" these were the very tones of his spanish enthusiasm nearly twenty years ago. he travelled probably without maps, and with no general knowledge of the country or of what had been written of it, so that he did not know how to spell manorbier or recognise it as the birthplace of gerald of wales. he remembered his youth, when he translated the bards, with complacent melancholy. he sunned himself in the admiration of his inferiors, talking at great length on subjects with which he was acquainted and repeating his own execrable verse translations. "nice man"--"civil man"--"clever man . . . has been everywhere," the people said. in the south, too, he had the supreme good fortune to meet captain bosvile for the first time for thirty years, and not being recognised, said, "i am the chap what certain folks calls the romany rye." bejiggered if the captain had not been thinking it was he, and goes on to ask after that "fine young woman and a vartuous" that he used to keep company with, and borrow in his turn asked after jasper--"lord!" was the answer, "you can't think what grand folks he and his wife have become of late years, and all along of a trumpery lil which somebody has written about them." he also met an italian whose friends he had last seen at norwich, one whom he had found at corunna. it is no wonder that it seemed to him he had always had "the health of an elephant," and could walk thirty-four miles a day, and the last mile in ten minutes. he took his chance for a night's lodging, content to have someone else's bed, but going to the best inn where he had a choice, as at haverfordwest. he was very much moved by the adventure. "i have a wonderful deal to say if i once begin; i have been everywhere," he said to the old man at gutter fawr. he gave the shepherd advice about his sheep. "i am in the habit," he said to the landlord at pont erwyd, "of talking about everything, being versed in all matters, do you see, or affecting to be so, which comes much to the same thing." even in the company of his stepdaughter--as they were not in hyde park--he sang in welsh at the top of his voice. the miller's hospitality in mona brought tears to his eyes; so did his own verse translation of the "ode to sycharth," because it made him think "how much more happy, innocent and holy i was in the days of my boyhood when i translated iolo's ode than i am at the present time." he kissed the silver cup at llanddewi brefi and the tombstone of huw morus at llan silin. when the chair of huw morus was wiped and he was about to sit down in it, he uncovered and said in his best welsh: "'shade of huw morus, supposing your shade haunts the place which you loved so well when alive--a saxon, one of the seed of the coiling serpent, has come to this place to pay that respect to true genius, the dawn duw, which he is ever ready to pay. he read the songs of the nightingale of ceiriog in the most distant part of lloegr, when he was a brown-haired boy, and now that he is a grey-haired man he is come to say in this place that they frequently made his eyes overflow with tears of rapture.' "i then sat down in the chair, and commenced repeating verses of huw morus. all which i did in the presence of the stout old lady, the short, buxom, and bare-armed damsel, and of john jones, the calvinistic weaver of llangollen, all of whom listened patiently and approvingly though the rain was pouring down upon them, and the branches of the trees and the tops of the tall nettles, agitated by the gusts from the mountain hollows, were beating in their faces, for enthusiasm is never scoffed at by the noble, simple-minded, genuine welsh, whatever treatment it may receive from the coarse-hearted, sensual, selfish saxon." unless we count the inn at cemmaes, where he took vengeance on the suspicious people by using his note-book in an obvious manner, "now skewing at an object, now leering at an individual," he was only once thoroughly put out, and that was at beth gelert by a scotchman: which suggests a great deal of amiability, on one side, considering that borrow's welsh was book-welsh, execrably pronounced. he filled four books with notes, says knapp, who has printed from them some parts which borrow did not use, including the orange words of "croppies lie down," and borrow's translation of "the best ghost story in the world," by lope de vega. the book founded on these welsh notes was advertised in , but not published until . in the september after his welsh holiday, , borrow took his wife and daughter to the isle of man, deposited them at douglas, and travelled over the island for seven weeks, with intervals at douglas. he took notes that make ninety-six quarto pages in knapp's copy. he was to have founded a book on them, entitled, "wanderings in quest of manx literature." knapp quotes an introduction which was written. this and the notes show him collecting in manuscript or _viva voce_ the _carvals_ or carols then in circulation among the manx; and he had the good fortune to receive two volumes of them as gifts. some he translated during his visit. he went about questioning people concerning the carvals and a manx poet, named george killey. he read a manx prayer-book to the poet's daughter at kirk onchan, and asked her a score of questions. he convinced one woman that he was "of the old manx." finding a manxman who spoke french and thought it the better language, he made the statement that "manx or something like it was spoken in france more than a thousand years before french." he copied runic inscriptions, and took down several fairy tales and a manx version of the story of "finn mccoyle" and the scotch giant. he went to visit a descendant of the ballad hero, mollie charane. when he wished to know the size of some old skeletons he inquired if the bones were as large as those of modern ones. as he met people to compliment him on his manx, so he did on his walking. knapp speaks of a "terrible journey" over the mountain from ramsay to braddan and douglas in october, but does not make any quotation relating to it. in his opinion the notes "seldom present any matter of general interest save to the islanders of man and the student of runic inscriptions." enough, however, is quoted to show that borrow was delighted with the country and the people, finding plenty to satisfy his curiosity in languages and customs. but he was irritable, and committed to paper some sarcastic remarks about sir john bowring and lord raglan, "the secret friend" of russia; while the advancement of an enemy and the death of a cousin caused him to reflect: "william borrow, the wonderful inventor, dead, and leicester curzon . . . a colonel. pretty justice!" in , in the pages of "once a week," he published two of his manx translations, the ballads--"brown william" and "mollie charane." in august and september, , borrow was walking again in wales, covering four hundred miles, as he told john murray, and once, at least, between builth and mortimer's cross, making twenty-eight miles in a day. his route was through laugharne, saundersfoot, tenby, pembroke, milford and milford haven, stainton, johnston, haverfordwest, st. davids, fishguard, newport, cardigan, llechryd, cilgerran, cenarth, newcastle emlyn, lampeter, llanddewi brefi, builth, presteign, mortimer's cross, and so to shrewsbury, and to uppington, where goronwy owen was curate in the middle of the eighteenth century. knapp transcribed part of borrow's journal for messrs. t. c. cantrill and j. pringle, remarking that the rubbed pencil writing took him eight days to decipher. with the annotations of messrs. cantrill and pringle it was printed in "y cymmrodor," { a} the journal of the honourable society of cymmrodorion. i will quote one day's entries, with the annotations, which are the fruit of the most patient devotion: "haverfordwest--little river--bridge; { b} steep ascent { c}--sounds of music--young fellows playing--steep descent--strange town--castle inn. h.w. in welsh hool-fordd. "[august] th, thursday.--burning day as usual. breakfasted on tea, eggs, and soup. went up to the castle. st. mary's church--river--bridge--toll--the two bridge keepers--river dun cledi { d}--runs into milford haven--exceedingly deep in some parts--would swallow up the largest ship ever built { e}--people in general dislike and despise the welsh. "started for st. david's. course s.w. { f}after walking about m. crossed pelkham bridge { a}--it separates st. martin's from camrwyn { b} parish, as a woman told me who was carrying a pipkin in which were some potatoes in water but not boiled. in her other hand she had a dried herring. she said she had lived in the parish all her life and could speak no welsh, but that there were some people within it who could speak it. rested against a shady bank, { c} very thirsty and my hurt foot very sore. she told me that the mountains to the n. were called by various names. one the [clo---?] mountain. { d} "the old inn { e}--the blind woman. { f} arrival of the odd-looking man and the two women i had passed on the road. the collier [on] { g} the ass gives me the real history of bosvile. written in roche castle, a kind of oblong tower built on the rock--there is a rock within it, a huge crag standing towards the east in what was perhaps once a door. it turned out to be a chapel. { h} "the castle is call'd in welsh castel y garn, a translation of roche. the girl and water--b---? (nanny) dallas. { a} dialogue with the baptist { b} who was mending the roads. "splendid view of sea--isolated rocks to the south. sir las { c} headlands stretching s. descent to the shore. new gall bridge. { d} the collier's wife. jemmy remaunt { e} was the name of man on the ass. her own husband goes to work by the shore. the ascent round the hill. distant view of roche castle. the welshers, the little village { f}--all looking down on the valley appropriately called y cwm. dialogue with tall man merddyn? { g}--the dim o clywed." not much of this second tour can be shown to have been used in "wild wales," where he alludes to it in the ninety-third chapter, saying that he "long subsequently" found some of the wildest solitudes and most romantic scenery among the mountains about tregaron; but the collier may have given him the suggestion for the encounter with bosvile in the ninety-eighth chapter. the spelling points to borrow's ignorance of the relation of pronunciation and orthography. in borrow's mother died at oulton and was buried in oulton churchyard. during october and november in that year, partly to take his mind from his bereavement, he was walking in the scottish highlands and islands. his note-book contains "nothing of general interest," says knapp, except an imperfect outline of the journey, showing that he was at oban, tobermory, the mull of cantire, glasgow, perth, aberdeen, inverness, dingwall, tain, dornoch, helmsdale, wick, john o'groats, thurso, stromness, kirkwall, and lerwick. in , after taking a house at , hereford square, west brompton, he and his wife and stepdaughter went to dublin, and himself walked to connemara and the giant's causeway. his wife thought this journey "full of adventure and interest," but he left no record of it. they were again in ireland in , miss clarke having lately married a dr. macoubrey, of belfast. borrow himself crossed over to stranraer and had a month's walking in scotland, to glen luce, castle douglas, dumfries, ecclefechan, carlisle, gilnochie, hawick, jedburgh, yetholm, kelso, melrose, coldstream, berwick, and edinburgh. he talked to the people, admired the scenery, bathed, and enjoyed his meals. he left the briefest of journals, but afterwards, in "romano lavo-lil," published an account of the "gypsy toon" of kirk yetholm and how he was introduced to the gypsy queen. he dropped his umbrella and flung his arms three times up into the air and asked her in romany what her name was, and if she was a mumper or a true gypsy. she asked him what was the meaning of this "gibberish," but he describes how gradually he made her declare herself, and how she examined him in gypsy and at last offered him a chair, and entered into "deep discourse" about gypsy matters. he talked as he did to such people, saying "whoy, i calls that a juggal," etc. he found fault with her romany, which was thin and mixed with gaelic and cant words. she told him that he reminded her of her grandfather, will faa, "being a tall, lusty man like himself, and having a skellying look with the left eye, just like him." he displayed his knowledge of the affairs of the tribe, both in her country and in england. she told him that she had never heard so much romany before. she promised to receive him next day, but was out when he called. he found her at st. george's fair, near roxburgh castle, and she pointed him out several other gypsies, but as she assured him they knew not a word of romany and would only be uncivil to him, he left them to "pay his respects at the tomb of walter scott, a man with whose principles he had no sympathy, but for whose genius he had always entertained the most intense admiration." in he took an autumn walk through sussex and hampshire while his wife was at bognor. in the next year his wife died, after being afflicted for some time by troubles connected with her property, by dropsy, valvular disease of the heart, and "hysteria." borrow was melancholy and irritable, but apparently did not go for another walk in scotland as was suggested for a cure; nor ever again did he get far afield on foot. chapter xxix--"wild wales" in , between borrow's two visits to ireland, his "wild wales" was published. it had been heralded by an advertisement in , by the publication of the "sleeping bard" in , and by an article on "the welsh and their literature" in the "quarterly" for january, . this article quotes "an unpublished work called 'wild wales'" and "mr. borrow's unpublished work, 'celtic bards, chiefs and kings.'" it opened with a vivid story of the coming of hu gadarn and his cymry to britain: "hu and his people took possession of the best parts of the island, either driving the few gaels to other districts or admitting them to their confederacy. as the country was in a very wild state, much overgrown with forests in which bears and wolves wandered, and abounding with deep stagnant pools, which were the haunts of the avanc or crocodile, hu forthwith set about clearing it of some of its horrors, and making it more fit to be the abiding place of civilised beings. he made his people cut down woods and forests, and destroy, as far as was possible, wild beasts and crocodiles. he himself went to a gloomy pool, the haunt of the king of the efync, baited a huge hook attached to a cable, flung it into the pool, and when the monster had gorged the snare drew him out by means of certain gigantic oxen, which he had tamed to the plough, and burnt his horrid, wet, scaly carcass on a fire. he then caused enclosures to be made, fields to be ploughed and sown, pleasant wooden houses to be built, bees to be sheltered and encouraged, and schools to be erected where song and music were taught. o a truly great man was hu gadarn! though a warrior, he preferred the sickle and pruning hook to the sword, and the sound of the song and lute to the hoarse blast of the buffalo's horn: "the mighty hu with mead would pay the bard for his melodious lay; the emperor of land and sea and of all living things was he." this probably represents borrow's view of early history, simple, heroical and clear, as it would have been had he been in command of it. the article professed to be a review of borrow's "sleeping bard," and was in fact by borrow himself. he had achieved the supreme honour of reviewing his own work, and, as it fell out, he persuaded the public to buy every copy. very few were found to buy "wild wales," notwithstanding. the first edition of a thousand copies lasted three years; the second, of three thousand, lasted twenty-three years. borrow was ridiculed for informing his readers that he paid his bill at a welsh inn, without mentioning the amount. he was praised for having written "the first clever book . . . in which an honest attempt is made to do justice to the welsh literature," for knowing far more than most educated welshmen about that literature, and for describing his travels and encounters "with much of the freshness, humour and geniality of his earlier days," for writing in fact "the best book about wales ever published." certainly no later book which could be compared with it has been as good, or nearly as good. as for its predecessors, the "itinerary" and the "description" of gerald of wales, even setting aside the charm of antiquity, make a book that is equal to "wild wales" for originality, vivacity and truth. of the antiquarian and picturesque travellers in the late eighteenth century and early nineteenth none wrote anything that is valuable except for some facts and some evidence of taste. borrow himself probably knew few or none of them, though he mentions gerald. there is no evidence that he knew the great nineteenth-century collections of welsh manuscripts and translations. he says nothing of the "mabinogion." he had apparently never heard of the pedestrian iolo morganwg. he perhaps never saw stephens' "literature of the kymry." his knowledge was picked up anyhow and anywhere from welsh texts and lhuyd's "archaeologia," without system and with very little friendly discussion or comparison. wales, therefore, was to him as wonderful as spain, and equally uncharted. what he saw did not spoil the visionary image, and his enthusiasm coupled with curiosity gives the book of his travels just the continuous impulse which he never found for his cornish, manx, irish or scottish notes. he was able to fill the book with sympathetic observation and genial self-revelation. the book is of course a tourist's book. borrow went through the country as a gentleman, running no risks, and having scarcely an object except to see what was to be seen and to please himself. he got, as he probably counted on getting, the consideration due to a gentleman who can pay his way and meets only the humbler sort of people, publicans, farmers, drovers, labourers, sextons, parish clerks, and men upon the road. he seldom stayed more than a night or an hour or two anywhere. his pictures, therefore, are the impressions of the moment, wrought up at leisure. his few weeks in wales made a book of the same size as an equal number of years in spain. sometimes he writes like a detached observer working from notes, and the result has little value except in so far as it is a pure record of what was to be seen at such and such a place in the year . there are many short passages apparently straight from his notes, dead and useless. the description of llangollen fair, on august , is of this kind, but superior, and i shall quote it entire: "the day was dull with occasional showers. i went to see the fair about noon. it was held in and near a little square in the south-east quarter of the town, of which square the police-station is the principal feature on the side of the west, and an inn, bearing the sign of the grapes, on the east. the fair was a little bustling fair, attended by plenty of people from the country, and from the english border, and by some who appeared to come from a greater distance than the border. a dense row of carts extended from the police-station, half across the space. these carts were filled with pigs, and had stout cord nettings drawn over them, to prevent the animals escaping. by the sides of these carts the principal business of the fair appeared to be going on--there stood the owners, male and female, higgling with llangollen men and women, who came to buy. the pigs were all small, and the price given seemed to vary from eighteen to twenty-five shillings. those who bought pigs generally carried them away in their arms; and then there was no little diversion; dire was the screaming of the porkers, yet the purchaser invariably appeared to know how to manage his bargain, keeping the left arm round the body of the swine and with the right hand fast gripping the ear--some few were led away by strings. there were some welsh cattle, small of course, and the purchasers of these seemed to be englishmen, tall burly fellows in general, far exceeding the welsh in height and size. "much business in the cattle-line did not seem, however, to be going on. now and then a big fellow made an offer, and held out his hand for a little pictish grazier to give it a slap--a cattle bargain being concluded by a slap of the hand--but the welshman generally turned away, with a half-resentful exclamation. there were a few horses and ponies in a street leading into the fair from the south. "i saw none sold, however. a tall athletic figure was striding amongst them, evidently a jockey and a stranger, looking at them and occasionally asking a slight question of one or another of their proprietors, but he did not buy. he might in age be about eight-and-twenty, and about six feet and three-quarters of an inch in height; in build he was perfection itself--a better-built man i never saw. he wore a cap and a brown jockey coat, trowsers, leggings, and highlows, and sported a single spur. he had whiskers--all jockeys should have whiskers--but he had what i did not like, and what no genuine jockey should have, a moustache, which looks coxcombical and frenchified--but most things have terribly changed since i was young. three or four hardy-looking fellows, policemen, were gliding about in their blue coats and leather hats, holding their thin walking-sticks behind them; conspicuous amongst whom was the leader, a tall lathy north briton with a keen eye and hard features. now if i add there was much gabbling of welsh round about, and here and there some slight sawing of english--that in the street leading from the north there were some stalls of gingerbread and a table at which a queer-looking being with a red greek-looking cap on his head, sold rhubarb, herbs, and phials containing the lord knows what, and who spoke a low vulgar english dialect,--i repeat, if i add this, i think i have said all that is necessary about llangollen fair." but this is a somewhat exceptional passage, and the same detachment is rarely found except in his descriptions of scenery, which are short and serve well enough to remind the reader of the great hills, the rapid waters, the rocks, and the furnaces, chimneys and pits. borrow certainly does remind us of these things. in the first place he does so by a hundred minute and scattered suggestions of the romantic and sublime, and so general that only a pedant will object to the nightingales which he heard singing in august near bethesda. he gives us black mountains, gloomy shadows, cascades falling into lakes, "singular-looking" rocks, and mountain villages like one in castile or la mancha but for the trees, mountains that made him exclaim: "i have had heaven opened to me," moors of a "wretched russet colour," "black gloomy narrow glens." he can also be precise and connoisseur-like, as when he describes the cataract at llan rhaiadr: "what shall i liken it to? i scarcely know, unless to an immense skein of silk agitated and disturbed by tempestuous blasts, or to the long tail of a grey courser at furious speed. through the profusion of long silvery threads or hairs, or what looked such, i could here and there see the black sides of the crag down which the rhyadr precipitated itself with something between a boom and a roar." he is still more a connoisseur when he continues: "i never saw water falling so gracefully, so much like thin beautiful threads as here. yet even this cataract has its blemish. what beautiful object has not something which more or less mars its loveliness? there is an ugly black bridge or semicircle of rock, about two feet in diameter and about twenty feet high, which rises some little way below it, and under which the water, after reaching the bottom, passes, which intercepts the sight, and prevents it from taking in the whole fall at once. this unsightly object has stood where it now stands since the day of creation, and will probably remain there to the day of judgment. it would be a desecration of nature to remove it by art, but no one could regret if nature in one of her floods were to sweep it away." but borrow's temperamental method--where he undertakes to do more than sketch his environment in the blurred large method corresponding to ordinary passing impressions--is the rhetorical sublime of this mountain lake between festiniog and bala: "i sped towards it through gorse and heather, occasionally leaping a deep drain. at last i reached it. it was a small lake. wearied and panting, i flung myself on its bank, and gazed upon it. "there lay the lake in the low bottom, surrounded by the heathery hillocks; there it lay quite still, the hot sun reflected upon its surface, which shone like a polished blue shield. near the shore it was shallow, at least near that shore upon which i lay. but farther on, my eye, practised in deciding upon the depths of waters, saw reason to suppose that its depth was very great. as i gazed upon it my mind indulged in strange musings. i thought of the afanc, a creature which some have supposed to be the harmless and industrious beaver, others the frightful and destructive crocodile. i wondered whether the afanc was the crocodile or the beaver, and speedily had no doubt that the name was originally applied to the crocodile. "'o, who can doubt,' thought i, 'that the word was originally intended for something monstrous and horrible? is there not something horrible in the look and sound of the word afanc, something connected with the opening and shutting of immense jaws, and the swallowing of writhing prey? is not the word a fitting brother of the arabic timsah, denoting the dread horny lizard of the waters? moreover, have we not the voice of tradition that the afanc was something monstrous? does it not say that hu the mighty, the inventor of husbandry, who brought the cumry from the summer-country, drew the old afanc out of the lake of lakes with his four gigantic oxen? would he have had recourse to them to draw out the little harmless beaver? o, surely not. yet have i no doubt that, when the crocodile had disappeared from the lands where the cumric language was spoken, the name afanc was applied to the beaver, probably his successor in the pool; the beaver now called in cumric llostlydan, or the broad- tailed, for tradition's voice is strong that the beaver has at one time been called the afanc.' then i wondered whether the pool before me had been the haunt of the afanc, considered both as crocodile and beaver. i saw no reason to suppose that it had not. 'if crocodiles,' thought i, 'ever existed in britain, and who shall say they have not? seeing that their remains have been discovered, why should they not have haunted this pool? if beavers ever existed in britain, and do not tradition and giraldus say that they have? why should they not have existed in this pool? "'at a time almost inconceivably remote, when the hills around were covered with woods, through which the elk and the bison and the wild cow strolled, when men were rare throughout the lands, and unlike in most things to the present race--at such a period--and such a period there has been--i can easily conceive that the afanc-crocodile haunted this pool, and that when the elk or bison or wild cow came to drink of its waters, the grim beast would occasionally rush forth, and seizing his bellowing victim, would return with it to the deeps before me to luxuriate at his ease upon its flesh. and at time less remote, when the crocodile was no more, and though the woods still covered the hills, and wild cattle strolled about, men were more numerous than before, and less unlike the present race, i can easily conceive this lake to have been the haunt of the afanc-beaver, that he here built cunningly his house of trees and clay, and that to this lake the native would come with his net and his spear to hunt the animal for his precious fur. probably if the depths of that pool were searched, relics of the crocodile and the beaver might be found, along with other strange things connected with the periods in which they respectively lived. happy were i if for a brief space i could become a cingalese, that i might swim out far into that pool, dive down into its deepest part, and endeavour to discover any strange things which beneath its surface may lie.' much in this guise rolled my thoughts as i lay stretched on the margin of the lake." in another place he tells a poor man that he believes in the sea-serpent, and has a story of one seen in the very neighbourhood where he meets the man. immediately after the description of the lake there is a proof--one of many--that he was writing straight from notes. speaking of a rivulet, he says: "it was crossed by two bridges, one immensely old and terribly delapidated, the other old enough, but in better repair--_went and drank under the oldest bridge of the two_." the book is large and strong enough to stand many such infinitesimal blemishes. alongside of the sublime i will put what borrow says he liked better. he is standing on a bridge over the ceiriog, just after visiting the house of huw morus at pont y meibion: "about a hundred yards distant was a small watermill, built over the rivulet, the wheel going slowly, slowly round; large quantities of pigs, the generality of them brindled, were either browsing on the banks, or lying close to the sides, half immersed in the water; one immense white hog, the monarch seemingly of the herd, was standing in the middle of the current. such was the scene which i saw from the bridge, a scene of quiet rural life well suited to the brushes of two or three of the old dutch painters, or to those of men scarcely inferior to them in their own style--gainsborough, moreland, and crome. my mind for the last half-hour had been in a highly-excited state; i had been repeating verses of old huw morus, brought to my recollection by the sight of his dwelling-place; they were ranting roaring verses, against the roundheads. i admired the vigour, but disliked the principles which they displayed; and admiration on the one hand, and disapproval on the other, bred a commotion in my mind like that raised on the sea when tide runs one way and wind blows another. the quiet scene from the bridge, however, produced a sedative effect on my mind, and when i resumed my journey i had forgotten huw, his verses, and all about roundheads and cavaliers." but it must be said that if the book is on the whole a cheerful one, its cheerfulness not only receives a foil from the rhetorical sublime, but is a little misted by a melancholy note here and there. thus he sees "a melancholy ship" out on the sea near holyhead. he qualifies russet twice as "wretched" in describing a moor. he speaks of "strange-looking" hills near pont erwyd, and again near the devil's bridge. his moods were easily changed. he speaks of "wretched russet hills," with no birds singing, but only "the lowing of a wretched bullock," and then of beautiful hills that filled his veins with fresh life so that he walked on merrily. as for his people, it cannot be asserted that they are always alive though they are often very welsh. they are sketched, with dialogue and description, after the manner of "the bible in spain," though being nearer home they had to be more modest in their peculiarities. he establishes welsh enthusiasm, hospitality and suspiciousness, in a very friendly manner. the poet-innkeeper is an excellent sketch of a mild but by no means spiritless type. he is accompanied by a man with a bulging shoe who drinks ale and continually ejaculates: "the greatest poet in the world"; for example, when borrow asks: "then i have the honour to be seated with a bard of anglesey?" "tut, tut," says the bard. borrow agrees with him that envy--which has kept him from the bardic chair--will not always prevail: "'sir,' said the man in grey, 'i am delighted to hear you. give me your hand, your honourable hand. sir, you have now felt the hand-grasp of a welshman, to say nothing of an anglesey bard, and i have felt that of a briton, perhaps a bard, a brother, sir? o, when i first saw your face out there in the dyffryn, i at once recognised in it that of a kindred spirit, and i felt compelled to ask you to drink. drink, sir! but how is this? the jug is empty--how is this?--o, i see--my friend, sir, though an excellent individual, is indiscreet, sir--very indiscreet. landlord, bring this moment another jug of ale.' "'the greatest prydydd,' stuttered he of the bulged shoe--'the greatest prydydd--oh--' "'tut, tut,' said the man in grey. "'i speak the truth and care for no one,' said he of the tattered hat. 'i say the greatest prydydd. if any one wishes to gainsay me let him show his face, and myn diawl--' the landlord brought the ale, placed it on the table, and then stood as if waiting for something. "'i suppose you are waiting to be paid,' said i; 'what is your demand?' "'sixpence for this jug, and sixpence for the other,' said the landlord. "i took out a shilling and said: 'it is but right that i should pay half of the reckoning, and as the whole affair is merely a shilling matter i should feel obliged in being permitted to pay the whole, so, landlord, take the shilling and remember you are paid.' i then delivered the shilling to the landlord, but had no sooner done so than the man in grey, starting up in violent agitation, wrested the money from the other, and flung it down on the table before me saying:-- "'no, no, that will never do. i invited you in here to drink, and now you would pay for the liquor which i ordered. you english are free with your money, but you are sometimes free with it at the expense of people's feelings. i am a welshman, and i know englishmen consider all welshmen hogs. but we are not hogs, mind you! for we have little feelings which hogs have not. moreover, i would have you know that we have money, though perhaps not so much as the saxon.' then putting his hand into his pocket he pulled out a shilling, and giving it to the landlord, said in welsh: 'now thou art paid, and mayst go thy ways till thou art again called for. i do not know why thou didst stay after thou hadst put down the ale. thou didst know enough of me to know that thou didst run no risk of not being paid.' "'but,' said i, after the landlord had departed, 'i must insist on being [? _paying_] my share. did you not hear me say that i would give a quart of ale to see a poet?' "'a poet's face,' said the man in grey, 'should be common to all, even like that of the sun. he is no true poet, who would keep his face from the world.' "'but,' said i, 'the sun frequently hides his head from the world, behind a cloud.' "'not so,' said the man in grey. 'the sun does not hide his face, it is the cloud that hides it. the sun is always glad enough to be seen, and so is the poet. if both are occasionally hid, trust me it is no fault of theirs. bear that in mind; and now pray take up your money.' "'that man is a gentleman,' thought i to myself, 'whether poet or not; but i really believe him to be a poet; were he not he could hardly talk in the manner i have just heard him.' "the man in grey now filled my glass, his own and that of his companion. the latter emptied his in a minute, not forgetting first to say 'the best prydydd in all the world!' the man in grey was also not slow to empty his own. the jug now passed rapidly between my two friends, for the poet seemed determined to have his full share of the beverage. i allowed the ale in my glass to remain untasted, and began to talk about the bards, and to quote from their works. i soon found that the man in grey knew quite as much of the old bards and their works as myself. in one instance he convicted me of a mistake. "i had quoted those remarkable lines in which an old bard, doubtless seeing the menai bridge by means of second sight, says: 'i will pass to the land of mona notwithstanding the waters of menai, without waiting for the ebb'--and was feeling not a little proud of my erudition when the man in grey, after looking at me for a moment fixedly, asked me the name of the bard who composed them--'sion tudor,' i replied. "'there you are wrong,' said the man in grey; 'his name was not sion tudor, but robert vychan, in english, little bob. sion tudor wrote an englyn on the skerries whirlpool in the menai; but it was little bob who wrote the stanza in which the future bridge over the menai is hinted at.' "'you are right,' said i, 'you are right. well, i am glad that all song and learning are not dead in ynis fon.' "'dead,' said the man in grey, whose features began to be rather flushed, 'they are neither dead, nor ever will be. there are plenty of poets in anglesey. . . .'" the whole sketch is in borrow's liberal unqualified style, but keeping on the right side of caricature. the combination of modesty, touchiness and pride, without humour, is typical and happily caught. the chief fault of his welsh portraits, in fact, is his almost invariable, and almost always unnecessary, exhibition of his own superiority. he is nearly always the big clever gentleman catechizing certain quaint little rustic foreigners. he met one old man with a crabstick who told him his welsh was almost as bad as his english, and a drover who had the advantage of him in decided opinions and a sense of superiority, and put him down as a pig-jobber; but these are exceptions. he is not unkind, but on the other hand he forgets that as a rule his size, his purse, and his remarkable appearance and qualities put his casual hosts very much at a disadvantage, and he is thus led to exaggerate what suspiciousness he observed. his success is all the more wonderful when his position and his almost total lack of condescension and concession are considered, but considered they must be. when he met a welsh clergyman who could talk about the welsh language, huw morus and ale, he said nothing about him except that he was "a capital specimen of the welsh country clergyman. his name was walter jones." too often he merely got answers to his questions, which break up his pages in an agreeable manner, but do little more. in such conversations we should fare ill indeed if one of the parties were not borrow, and even as it is, he can be tedious beyond the limits necessary for truth. i will give an example: "after a little time i entered into conversation with my guide. he had not a word of english. 'are you married?' said i. "'in truth i am, sir.' "'what family have you?' "'i have a daughter.' "'where do you live?' "'at the house of the rhyadr.' "'i suppose you live there as servant?' "'no, sir, i live there as master.' "'is the good woman i saw there your wife?' "'in truth, sir, she is.' "'and the young girl i saw your daughter?' "'yes, sir, she is my daughter.' "'and how came the good woman not to tell me you were her husband?' "'i suppose, sir, you did not ask who i was, and she thought you did not care to know.' . . ." to multiply instances might cease to be amusing. it may have been borrow's right way of getting what he wanted, though it sounds like a charity organization inquisitor. as to the effectiveness of setting down every step of the process instead of the result, there can hardly be two opinions, unless the reader prefers an impression of the wandering inquisitive gentleman to one of the people questioned. probably these barren dialogues may be set down to indolence or to the too facile adoption of a trick. they are too casual and slight to be exact, and on the other hand they are too literal to give a direct impression. luckily he diversified such conversation with stories of poets and robbers, gleaned from his books or from wayside company. the best of this company was naturally not the humble homekeeping publican or cottager, but the man or woman of the roads, gypsy or irish. the vagabond irish, for example, give him early in the book an effective contrast to the more quiet welsh; his guide tells how they gave him a terrible fright: "i had been across the berwyn to carry home a piece of weaving work to a person who employs me. it was night as i returned, and when i was about half-way down the hill, at a place which is called allt paddy, because the gwyddelod are in the habit of taking up their quarters there, i came upon a gang of them, who had come there and camped and lighted their fire, whilst i was on the other side of the hill. there were nearly twenty of them, men and women, and amongst the rest was a man standing naked in a tub of water with two women stroking him down with clouts. he was a large fierce-looking fellow, and his body, on which the flame of the fire glittered, was nearly covered with red hair. i never saw such a sight. as i passed they glared at me and talked violently in their paddy gwyddel, but did not offer to molest me. i hastened down the hill, and right glad i was when i found myself safe and sound at my house in llangollen, with my money in my pocket, for i had several shillings there, which the man across the hill had paid me for the work which i had done." the best man in the book is the irish fiddler, with a shock of red hair, a hat that had lost part of its crown and all its rim, and a game leg. this irishman in the early part of the book and the irishwoman at the end are characters that borrow could put his own blood into. he has done so in a manner equal to anything in the same kind in his earlier books. i shall quote the whole interview with the man. it is an admirable piece of imagination. if any man thinks it anything else, let him spend ten years in taking down conversations in trains and taverns and ten years in writing them up, and should he have anything as good as this to show, he has a most rare talent: "'good morning to you,' said i. "'a good marning to your hanner, a merry afternoon, and a roaring joyous evening--that is the worst luck i wish to ye.' "'are you a native of these parts?' said i. "'not exactly, your hanner--i am a native of the city of dublin, or, what's all the same thing, of the village of donnybrook which is close by it.' "'a celebrated place,' said i. "'your hanner may say that; all the world has heard of donnybrook, owing to the humours of its fair. many is the merry tune i have played to the boys at that fair.' "'you are a professor of music, i suppose?' "'and not a very bad one as your hanner will say if you will allow me to play you a tune.' "'can you play "croppies lie down"?' "'i cannot, your hanner; my fingers never learnt to play such a blackguard tune; but if ye wish to hear "croppies get up" i can oblige ye.' "'you are a roman catholic, i suppose?' "'i am not, your hanner--i am a catholic to the backbone, just like my father before me. come, your hanner, shall i play ye "croppies get up"?' "'no,' said i; 'it's a tune that doesn't please my ears. if, however, you choose to play "croppies lie down," i'll give you a shilling.' "'your hanner will give me a shilling?' "'yes,' said i, 'if you play "croppies lie down": but you know you cannot play it, your fingers never learned the tune.' "'they never did, your hanner; but they have heard it played of ould by the blackguard orange fiddlers of dublin on the first of july, when the protestant boys used to walk round willie's statue on college green--so if your hanner gives me the shilling they may perhaps bring out something like it.' "'very good,' said i; 'begin!' "'but, your hanner, what shall we do for the words? though my fingers may remember the tune, my tongue does not remember the words--that is unless . . .' "'i give another shilling,' said i; 'but never mind you the words; i know the words, and will repeat them.' "'and your hanner will give me a shilling?' "'if you play the tune,' said i. "'hanner bright, your hanner?' "'honour bright,' said i. "thereupon the fiddler, taking his bow and shouldering his fiddle, struck up in first-rate style the glorious tune, which i had so often heard with rapture in the days of my boyhood in the barrack yard of clonmel; whilst i walking by his side as he stumped along, caused the welkin to resound with the words, which were the delight of the young gentlemen of the protestant academy of that beautiful old town. "'i never heard those words before,' said the fiddler, after i had finished the first stanza. "'get on with you,' said i. "'regular orange words!' said the fiddler, on my finishing the second stanza. "'do you choose to get on?' said i. "'more blackguard orange words i never heard!' cried the fiddler, on my coming to the conclusion of the third stanza. 'divil a bit farther will i play; at any rate till i get the shilling.' "'here it is for you,' said i; 'the song is ended and of course the tune.' "'thank your hanner,' said the fiddler, taking the money, 'your hanner has kept your word with me, which is more than i thought your hanner would. and now, your hanner, let me ask you why did your hanner wish for that tune, which is not only a blackguard one, but quite out of date; and where did your hanner get the words?' "'i used to hear the tune in my boyish days,' said i, 'and wished to hear it again, for though you call it a blackguard tune, it is the sweetest and most noble air that ireland, the land of music, has ever produced. as for the words, never mind where i got them; they are violent enough, but not half so violent as the words of some of the songs made against the irish protestants by the priests.' "'your hanner is an orange man, i see. well, your hanner, the orange is now in the kennel, and the croppies have it all their own way.' "'and perhaps,' said i, 'before i die, the orange will be out of the kennel and the croppies in, even as they were in my young days.' "'who knows, your hanner? and who knows that i may not play the ould tune round willie's image in college green, even as i used some twenty-seven years ago?' "'o then you have been an orange fiddler?' "'i have, your hanner. and now as your hanner has behaved like a gentleman to me i will tell ye all my history. i was born in the city of dublin, that is in the village of donnybrook, as i tould your hanner before. it was to the trade of bricklaying i was bred, and bricklaying i followed till at last, getting my leg smashed, not by falling off the ladder, but by a row in the fair, i was obliged to give it up, for how could i run up the ladder with a patten on my foot, which they put on to make my broken leg as long as the other. well, your hanner; being obliged to give up my bricklaying, i took to fiddling, to which i had always a natural inclination, and played about the streets, and at fairs, and wakes, and weddings. at length some orange men getting acquainted with me, and liking my style of playing, invited me to their lodge, where they gave me to drink, and tould me that if i would change my religion and join them, and play their tunes, they would make it answer my purpose. well, your hanner, without much stickling i gave up my popery, joined the orange lodge, learned the orange tunes, and became a regular protestant boy, and truly the orange men kept their word, and made it answer my purpose. o the meat and drink i got, and the money i made by playing at the orange lodges and before the processions when the orange men paraded the streets with their orange colours. and o, what a day for me was the glorious first of july when with my whole body covered with orange ribbons i fiddled "croppies lie down"--"boyne water," and the "protestant boys" before the procession which walked round willie's figure on horseback in college green, the man and horse all ablaze with orange colours. but nothing lasts under the sun, as your hanner knows; orangeism began to go down; the government scowled at it, and at last passed a law preventing the protestant boys dressing up the figure on the first of july, and walking round it. that was the death-blow of the orange party, your hanner; they never recovered it, but began to despond and dwindle, and i with them, for there was scarcely any demand for orange tunes. then dan o'connell arose with his emancipation and repale cries, and then instead of orange processions and walkings, there were papist processions and mobs, which made me afraid to stir out, lest knowing me for an orange fiddler, they should break my head, as the boys broke my leg at donnybrook fair. at length some of the repalers and emancipators knowing that i was a first-rate hand at fiddling came to me, and tould me, that if i would give over playing "croppies lie down" and other orange tunes, and would play "croppies get up," and what not, and become a catholic and a repaler, and an emancipator, they would make a man of me--so as my orange trade was gone, and i was half-starved, i consinted, not however till they had introduced me to daniel o'connell, who called me a credit to my country, and the irish horpheus, and promised me a sovereign if i would consint to join the cause, as he called it. well, your hanner, i joined with the cause and became a papist, i mane a catholic once more, and went at the head of processions, covered all over with green ribbons, playing "croppies get up," "granny whale," and the like. but, your hanner; though i went the whole hog with the repalers and emancipators, they did not make their words good by making a man of me. scant and sparing were they in the mate and drink, and yet more sparing in the money, and daniel o'connell never gave me the sovereign which he promised me. no, your hanner, though i played "croppies get up," till my fingers ached, as i stumped before him and his mobs and processions, he never gave me the sovereign: unlike your hanner who gave me the shilling ye promised me for playing "croppies lie down," daniel o'connell never gave me the sovereign he promised me for playing "croppies get up." och, your hanner, i often wished the ould orange days were back again. however as i could do no better i continued going the whole hog with the emancipators and repalers and dan o'connell; i went the whole animal with them till they had got emancipation; and i went the whole animal with them till they nearly got repale--when all of a sudden they let the whole thing drop--dan and his party having frighted the government out of its seven senses, and gotten all they thought they could get, in money and places, which was all they wanted, let the whole hullabaloo drop, and of course myself, who formed part of it. i went to those who had persuaded me to give up my orange tunes, and to play papist ones, begging them to give me work; but they tould me very civilly that they had no farther occasion for my services. i went to daniel o'connell reminding him of the sovereign he had promised me, and offering if he gave it me to play "croppies get up" under the nose of the lord-lieutenant himself; but he tould me that he had not time to attend to me, and when i persisted, bade me go to the divil and shake myself. well, your hanner, seeing no prospect for myself in my own country, and having incurred some little debts, for which i feared to be arrested, i came over to england and wales, where with little content and satisfaction i have passed seven years.' "'well,' said i, 'thank you for your history--farewell.' "'stap, your hanner; does your hanner think that the orange will ever be out of the kennel, and that the orange boys will ever walk round the brass man and horse in college green as they did of ould?' "'who knows?' said i. 'but suppose all that were to happen, what would it signify to you?' "'why then divil in my patten if i would not go back to donnybrook and dublin, hoist the orange cockade, and become as good an orange boy as ever.' "'what,' said i, 'and give up popery for the second time?' "'i would, your hanner; and why not? for in spite of what i have heard father toban say, i am by no means certain that all protestants will be damned.' "'farewell,' said i. "'farewell, your hanner, and long life and prosperity to you! god bless your hanner and your orange face. ah, the orange boys are the boys for keeping faith. they never served me as dan o'connell and his dirty gang of repalers and emancipators did. farewell, your hanner, once more; and here's another scratch of the illigant tune your hanner is so fond of, to cheer up your hanner's ears upon your way.' "and long after i had left him i could hear him playing on his fiddle in first-rate style the beautiful tune of 'down, down, croppies lie down.'" chapter xxx--"wild wales" (_continued_) much more than in any of his other books borrow is the hero in "wild wales"--a strange black-coated gentleman with white hair striding over the hills and along the rivers, carrying an umbrella, asking innumerable questions and giving infinite information about history, literature, religion, politics, and minor matters, willing to talk to anyone, but determined not to put up at a trampers' hostelry. the irish at chester took him for a minister, the irish reapers in anglesey took him for a priest and got him to bless them in latin while they knelt. all wondered to hear the saxon speaking or reading in welsh. a man who could speak spanish addressed him in that language as a foreigner--"'i can't tell you how it was, sir,' said he, looking me very innocently in the face, 'but i was forced to speak spanish to you.'" at pentre dwr the man with the pigs heard his remarks on pigs and said: "i see you are in the trade and understand a thing or two." the man on the road south to tregaron told him that he looked and spoke like the earl of leicester. he reveals himself also without recourse to impartial men upon the road. the mere figure of the tall man inquiring for the birthplaces of poets and literally translating place names for their meaning, is very powerful in holding the attention. he does not conceal his opinions. some were already familiar to readers of borrow, his admiration for smollett and for scott as a writer, his hate of gentility, cavaliers, papists, france, sherry, and teetotalism. he had some bad ale in wales, and he had some allsopp, which he declared good enough for the summer, and at bala one of his best welshmen gave him the best of home-brewed, "rich and mellow, with scarcely any smack of the hop in it, and though so pale and delicate to the eye nearly as strong as brandy." the chester ale he spirted out of the window after the chester cheese. to his subjects of admiration he also adds robert southey, as "not the least of britain's four great latter poets, decidedly her best prose writer, and probably the purest and most noble character to which she has ever given birth"; but this was when he was thinking of madoc, the welsh discoverer of america. i should be sorry to have to name any of the other "four poets" except byron. another literary _dictum_ is that macpherson's "ossian" is genuine because a book which followed it and was undoubtedly genuine bore a strong resemblance to it. an opinion that shows as fully as any single one could borrow's vivid and vague inaccuracy and perversity is this of snowdon: "but it is from its connection with romance that snowdon derives its chief interest. who when he thinks of snowdon does not associate it with the heroes of romance, arthur and his knights? whose fictitious adventures, the splendid dreams of welsh and breton minstrels, many of the scenes of which are the valleys and passes of snowdon, are the origin of romance, before which what is classic has for more than half a century been waning, and is perhaps eventually destined to disappear. yes, to romance snowdon is indebted for its interest and consequently for its celebrity; but for romance snowdon would assuredly not be what it at present is, one of the very celebrated hills of the world, and to the poets of modern europe almost what parnassus was to those of old." who associates snowdon with arthur, and what arthurian stories have the valleys and passes of snowdon for their scenes? what "poets of modern europe" have sung of it? and yet borrow has probably often carried this point with his reader. borrow as a christian is very conspicuous in this book. he cannot speak of sir henry morgan without calling him "a scourge of god on the cruel spaniards of the new world. . . . on which account god prospered and favoured him, permitting him to attain the noble age of ninety." he was fond of discovering the hand of god, for example, in changing a nunnery--"a place devoted to gorgeous idolatry and obscene lust"--into a quiet old barn: "surely," he asks, "the hand of god is visible here?" and the respectful mower answers: "it is so, sir." in the same way, when he has told a man called dafydd tibbot, that he is a frenchman--"dearie me, sir, am i indeed?" says the man, very pleased--he supposes the man a descendant of a proud, cruel, violent norman, for the descendants of proud, cruel and violent men "are doomed by god to come to the dogs." he tells us that he comforted himself, after thinking that his wife and daughter and himself would before long be dead, by the reflection that "such is the will of heaven, and that heaven is good." he showed his respect for sunday by going to church and hesitating to go to plynlimmon--"it is really not good to travel on the sunday without going into a place of worship." he wished, as he passed gwynfe, which means paradise,--or _gwynfa_ does; but no matter,--that he had never read tom payne, who "thinks there's not such a place as paradise." he lectures a poet's mistress for not staying with her hunchbacked old husband and making him comfortable: he expresses satisfaction at the poet's late repentance. after praising dafydd as the welsh ovid and horace and martial, he says: "finally, he was something more; he was what not one of the great latin poets was, a christian; that is, in his latter days, when he began to feel the vanity of all human pursuits, when his nerves began to be unstrung, his hair to fall off, and his teeth to drop out, and he then composed sacred pieces entitling him to rank with--we were going to say caedmon--had we done so we should have done wrong; no uninspired poet ever handled sacred subjects like the grand saxon skald--but which entitle him to be called a great religious poet, inferior to none but the _protege_ of hilda." (here, by the way, he omits to correct the plural unity of the "quarterly reviewer.") but perhaps these remarks are not more than the glib commonplaces of a man who had found christianity convenient, but not exactly sufficient. in another place he says: "the wisest course evidently is to combine a portion of the philosophy of the tombstone with a portion of the philosophy of the publican and something more, to enjoy one's pint and pipe and other innocent pleasures, and to think every now and then of death and judgment--that is what i intend to do, and indeed is what i have done for the last thirty years." which is as much as to say that he was of "the religion of all sensible men": which is as much as to say that he did not greatly trouble about such matters. in the cognate matter of patriotism borrow is superficially more unsound in "wild wales." at birmingham railway station he "became a modern englishman, enthusiastically proud of modern england's science and energy"; at the sight of norman castles he felt no norman enthusiasm, but only hate for the norman name, which he associated with "the deflowering of helpless englishwomen, the plundering of english homesteads, and the tearing out of englishmen's eyes"; but when he was asked on snowdon if he was a breton, he replied: "i wish i was, or anything but what i am, one of a nation amongst whom any knowledge save what relates to money-making and over-reaching is looked upon as a disgrace. i am ashamed to say that i am an englishman." and at gutter fawr he gloomily expressed the opinion that we were not going to beat the russians--"the russians are a young nation and we are an old; they are coming on and we are going off; every dog has its day." but this was mere refractoriness. england had not asked his advice; she had moreover joined forces with her old enemy, france: the patriot therefore hoped that she would perish to fulfil his own prophecy that she must. and after the vaticination he sat down to a large dish of veal cutlets, fried bacon and potatoes, with a jug of ale, and "made one of the best suppers he ever made in his life," finally "trifling" with some whisky and water. that is "the religion of every sensible man," which is lord tennyson's phrase, i believe, but my interpretation. chapter xxxi--"wild wales": style "wild wales" having been written from a tourist's note books is less flowing than "the bible in spain" and less delicate than "lavengro" and "the romany rye." a man is often called an "individual," the sun is called "the candle of god." a book just bought is "my late literary acquisition." facts such as "i returned to llangollen by nearly the same way by which i had come," abound. sentences straight from his note book, lacking either in subject or predicate, occur here and there. at times a clause with no sort of value is admitted, as when, forgetting the name of kilvey hill, he says that swansea town and harbour "are overhung on the side of the east by a lofty green mountain with a welsh name, no doubt exceedingly appropriate, but which i regret to say has escaped my memory." {picture: the dolaucothy arms. photo: a. & g. taylor, swansea: page .jpg} more than once his direct simplicity slips into what could hardly have been supposed to be within the power of such a pen, as in this conclusion to a chapter: "how one enjoys one's supper at one's inn, after a good day's walk, provided one has the proud and glorious consciousness of being able to pay one's reckoning on the morrow!" nor is the reader ever allowed to forget that a massive unfeeling victorianism is the basis of borrow's style. thus he tells the story of the treachery of the long knives: "hengist, wishing to become paramount in southern britain, thought that the easiest way to accomplish his wish would be by destroying the south british chieftains. not believing that he should be able to make away with them by open force, he determined to see what he could do by treachery. accordingly he invited the chieftains to a banquet, to be held near stonehenge, or the hanging stones, on salisbury plain. the unsuspecting chieftains accepted the invitation, and on the appointed day repaired to the banquet, which was held in a huge tent. hengist received them with a smiling countenance, and every appearance of hospitality, and caused them to sit down to table, placing by the side of every briton one of his own people. the banquet commenced and all seemingly was mirth and hilarity. now hengist had commanded his people that, when he should get up and cry 'nemet eoure saxes,' that is, take your knives, each saxon should draw his long sax, or knife, which he wore at his side, and should plunge it into the throat of his neighbour. the banquet went on, and in the midst of it, when the unsuspecting britons were revelling on the good cheer which had been provided for them, and half-drunken with the mead and beer which flowed in torrents, uprose hengist, and with a voice of thunder uttered the fatal words, 'nemet eoure saxes'; the cry was obeyed, each saxon grasped his knife, and struck with it at the throat of his defenceless neighbour. almost every blow took effect; only three british chieftains escaping from the banquet of blood. this infernal carnage the welsh have appropriately denominated the treachery of the long knives. it will be as well to observe that the saxons derived their name from the saxes, or long knives, which they wore at their sides, and at the use of which they were terribly proficient." even so, borrow's personal vitality triumphs, as it does over his many mistakes, such as lledach for clydach, in welsh orthography. there is perhaps hardly such a thing as prose which shall be accounted perfect by every different age: but what is most important of all, the harmony of style which gradually steals upon the reader and subjects him to incalculable minor effects, is not the property of any one age, but of every age; and victorian prose in general, and borrow's in particular, attains it. "wild wales" is rough in grain; it can be long-winded, slovenly and dull: but it can also be read; and if the whole, or any large portion, be read continuously it will give a lively and true impression of a beautiful, diverse country, of a distinctive people, and of a number of vivid men and women, including borrow himself. it is less rich than "the bible in spain," less atmospheric than "lavengro." it is borrow's for reasons which lie open to the view, not on account of any hidden pervasive quality. thus what exaggeration there is may easily be seen, as when a fallow deer is described as equal to a bull in size, or when carn-lleidyr is said to be one "who, being without house and home, was more desperate than other thieves, and as savage and brutish as the wolves and foxes with whom he occasionally shared his pillow, the earn." as a rule he keeps us upon an everyday normal plane. the bard of anglesey and the man who attends upon him come through no ivory gate: "they saluted me; i returned their salutation, and then we all three stood still looking at one another. one of the men was rather a tall figure, about forty, dressed in grey, or pepper-and-salt, with a cap of some kind on his head, his face was long and rather good-looking, though slightly pock-broken. there was a peculiar gravity upon it. the other person was somewhat about sixty--he was much shorter than his companion, and much worse dressed--he wore a hat that had several holes in it, a dusty, rusty black coat, much too large for him; ragged yellow velveteen breeches, indifferent fustian gaiters, and shoes, cobbled here and there, one of which had rather an ugly bulge by the side near the toes. his mouth was exceedingly wide, and his nose remarkably long; its extremity of a deep purple; upon his features was a half-simple smile or leer; in his hand was a long stick." {picture: dolaucothy house. (from a photograph by lady pretyman, by whose kind permission it is reproduced.): page .jpg} my last example shall be the house of dolau cothi, near pumpsaint, in caermarthenshire: "after breakfast i departed for llandovery. presently i came to a lodge on the left-hand beside an ornamental gate at the bottom of an avenue leading seemingly to a gentleman's seat. on inquiring of a woman who sat at the door of the lodge to whom the grounds belonged, she said to mr. johnes, and that if i pleased i was welcome to see them. i went in and advanced along the avenue, which consisted of very noble oaks; on the right was a vale in which a beautiful brook was running north and south. beyond the vale to the east were fine wooded hills. i thought i had never seen a more pleasing locality, though i saw it to great disadvantage, the day being dull, and the season the latter fall. presently, on the avenue making a slight turn, i saw the house, a plain but comfortable gentleman's seat with wings. it looked to the south down the dale. 'with what satisfaction i could live in that house,' said i to myself, 'if backed by a couple of thousands a-year. with what gravity could i sign a warrant in its library, and with what dreamy comfort translate an ode of lewis glyn cothi, my tankard of rich ale beside me. i wonder whether the proprietor is fond of the old bard and keeps good ale. were i an irishman instead of a norfolk man i would go in and ask him.'" to the merit of this the whole book, perhaps the whole of borrow's work, contributes. simple-looking tranquil successes of this kind are the privilege of a master, and when they occur they proclaim the master with a voice which, though gentle, will find but few confessing to be deaf to it. they are not frequent in "wild wales." borrow had set himself too difficult a task to succeed altogether with his methods and at his age. wales was not unknown land; de quincey, shelley, and peacock, had been there in his own time; and borrow had not sufficient impulse or opportunity to transfigure it as he had done spain; nor had he the time behind him, if he had the power still, to treat it as he had done the country of his youth in "lavengro" and "the romany rye." chapter xxxii--"romano lavo-lil" ambition, with a little revenge, helped to impel borrow to write "lavengro" and "the romany rye." some of this ambition was left over for "wild wales," which he began and finished before the publication of "the romany rye." there was little of any impulse left for the writing of books after "wild wales." in and he published in "once a week" some translations in prose and verse, from manx, russian, danish and norse--one poem, on harald harfagr, being illustrated by frederick sandys. he never published the two-volume books, advertised as "ready for the press" in , "celtic bards, chiefs, and kings," "kaempe viser . . . translated from the ancient danish," "northern skalds, kings and earls." borrow was living in hereford square, seeing many people, occasionally dining well, walking out into the suburban country, and visiting the gypsy camps in london. he made notes of his observations and conversations, which, says knapp, "are not particularly edifying," whatever that may mean. knapp gives one example from the manuscript, describing the race at brompton, on october , , between deerfoot, the seneca indian, and jackson, the "american deer." borrow also wrote for the "antiquities of the royal school of norwich," an autobiography too long for insertion. this survived to be captured and printed by knapp. it is very inaccurate, but it serves to corroborate parts of "lavengro," and its inaccuracy, though now transparent, is characteristically exaggerated or picturesque. borrow's scattered notes would perhaps never have been published in his lifetime, but for an accident. in charles godfrey leland, author of "hans breitmann," introduced himself to borrow as one who had read "the zincali," "lavengro," and "the romany rye," five times. borrow answered that he would be pleased to see him at any time. they met and leland sent borrow his "breitmann ballads" because of the german romany ballad in it, and his "music lesson of confucius" because of the poem in it inspired by borrow's reference to svend vonved in "the romany rye." leland confessed in a genial familiar way what "an incredible influence" borrow's books had had on him, and thanked him for the "instructions in 'the romany rye' as to taking care of a horse on a thirty-mile ride." borrow became jealous of this american "romany rye." leland, suspecting nothing, wrote offering him the dedication of his "english gypsies." john murray assured leland that borrow received this letter, but it was never acknowledged except by the speedy announcement of a new book--"romano lavo-lil: a word book of the romany or english gypsy language, by george borrow, with specimens of gypsy poetry, and an account of certain gypsyries or places inhabited by them, and of various things relating to gypsy life in england." leland speaks of the affair in "the gypsies," saying that he had nothing but pleasant memories of the good old romany rye: "a grand old fellow he was--a fresh and hearty giant, holding his six- feet-two or three inches as uprightly at eighty as he ever had at eighteen. i believe that was his age, but may be wrong. borrow was like one of the old norse heroes, whom he so much admired, or an old-fashioned gypsy bruiser, full of craft and merry tricks. one of these he played on me, and i bear him no malice for it. the manner of the joke was this: i had written a book on the english gypsies and their language; but before i announced it, i wrote a letter to father george, telling him that i proposed to print it, and asking his permission to dedicate it to him. he did not answer the letter, but 'worked the tip' promptly enough, for he immediately announced in the newspapers on the following monday his 'word- book of the romany language,' 'with many pieces in gypsy, illustrative of the way of speaking and thinking of the english gypsies, with specimens of their poetry, and an account of various things relating to gypsy life in england.' this was exactly what i had told him that my book would contain. . . . i had no ill-feeling about it. "my obligations to him for 'lavengro' and 'the romany rye' and his other works are such as i owe to few men. i have enjoyed gypsying more than any other sport in the world, and i owe my love of it to george borrow." "the english gypsies" appeared in , and the "romano lavo-lil" in . "romano lavo-lil" contains a note on the english gypsy language, a word- book, some gypsy songs and anecdotes with english translations, a list of gypsy names of english counties and towns, and accounts of several visits to gypsy camps in london and the country. it was hastily put together, and the word-book, for example, did not include all the romany used in "lavengro" and "the romany rye." there were now critics capable of discovering other shortcomings. borrow's book was reviewed along with leland's "english gypsies" and dr. miklosich's "dialects and migrations of the gypsies in europe," and he was attacked for his derivations, his ignorance of philology and of other writers on his subject, his sketchy knowledge of languages, his interference with the purity of the idiom in his romany specimens. his gypsy songs were found interesting, his translations, of course, bad. the final opinion of the book as a book on the gypsy language was: { } "whether or not mr. borrow has in the course of his long experience become the _deep_ gypsy which he has always been supposed to be, we cannot say; but it is certain that his present book contains little more than he gave to the public forty years ago, and does not by any means represent the present state of knowledge on the subject. but at the present day, when comparative philology has made such strides, and when want of accurate scholarship is as little tolerated in strange and remote languages as in classical literature, the 'romano lavo-lil' is, to speak mildly, an anachronism." nor, apart from the word-book and gypsy specimens, is the book a good example of borrow's writing. the accounts of visits to gypsies at kirk yetholm, wandsworth, pottery lane (notting hill), and friar's mount (shore-ditch), are interesting as much for what they tell us of borrow's recreations in london as for anything else. the portrait of the "dark, mysterious, beautiful, terrible" mrs. cooper, the story of clara bosvil, the life of ryley bosvil--"a thorough gypsy, versed in all the arts of the old race, had two wives, never went to church, and considered that when a man died he was cast into the earth, and there was an end of him"--and his death and burial ceremony, and some of borrow's own opinions, for example, in favour of pontius pilate and george iv.--these are simple and vigorous in the old style. they show that with a sufficient impulse he could have written another book at least equal to "wild wales." but these uneven fragments were not worthy of the living man. they were the sort of thing that his friends might have been expected to gather up after he was dead. scraps like this from "wisdom of the egyptians," are well enough: "'my father, why were worms made?' 'my son, that moles might live by eating them.' 'my father, why were moles made?' 'my son, that you and i might live by catching them.' 'my father, why were you and i made?' 'my son, that worms might live by eating us.'" related to borrow, and to a living gypsy, by borrow's pen, how much better! it is a book that can be browsed on again and again, but hardly ever without this thought. it was the result of ambition, and might have been equal to its predecessors, but competition destroyed the impulse of ambition and spoilt the book. "romano lavo-lil" was his last book. for posthumous publication he left only "the turkish jester; or, the pleasantries of cogia nasr eddin effendi, translated from the turkish by g. b." (ipswich, ). this was a string of the sayings and adventures of one cogia, in this style: "one day cogia nasr eddin effendi said: 'o mussulmen, give thanks to god most high that he did not give the camel wings; for had he given them, they would have perched upon your houses and chimneys, and have caused them to tumble down upon your heads.'" this may have been the translation from the turkish that fitzgerald read in and could not admire. it is a diverting book and illustrates borrow's taste. chapter xxxiii--last years from to borrow lived at brompton, and perhaps because he wrote few letters these years seem to have been more cheerful, except at the time of his wife's death. he is seen at "the star and garter" in entertaining murray and two others at dinner, in a heavy and expensive style. he is still an uncomfortable, unattractive figure in a drawing- room, especially with accurate and intelligent ladies, like miss frances power cobbe, who would not humour his inaccurate dictatorship. miss cobbe was his neighbour in hereford square. she says that if he was not a gypsy by blood he ought to have been one; she "never liked him, thinking him more or less of a hypocrite," but nevertheless invited him to her house and tried to console him in his bereavement by a gentle tact which was not tact in borrow's case: "poor old borrow is in a sad state. i hope he is starting in a day or two for scotland. i sent c--- with a note begging him to come and eat the welsh mutton you sent me to-day, and he sent back word, 'yes.' then, an hour afterwards, he arrived, and in a most agitated manner said he had come to say 'he would rather not. he would not trouble anyone with his sorrows.' i made him sit down, and talked to him as gently as possible, saying: 'it won't be a trouble, mr. borrow, it will be a pleasure to me.' but it was all of no use. he was so cross, so _rude_, i had the greatest difficulty in talking to him. i asked him would he look at the photos of the siamese, and he said: 'don't show them to me!' so, in despair, as he sat silent, i told him i had been at a pleasant dinner-party the night before, and had met mr. l---, who told me of certain curious books of mediaeval history. 'did he know them?' 'no, and he _dared say_ mr. l--- did not, either! who was mr. l---?' i described that _obscure_ individual (one of the foremost writers of the day), and added that he was immensely liked by everybody. whereupon borrow repeated at least twelve times, 'immensely liked! as if a man could be immensely liked!' quite insultingly. to make a diversion (i was very patient with him as he was in trouble) i said i had just come home from the lyell's and had heard . . . but there was no time to say what i had heard! mr. borrow asked: 'is that old lyle i met here once, the man who stands at the door (of some den or other) and _bets_?' i explained who sir charles was (of course he knew very well), but he went on and on, till i said gravely: 'i don't think you meet those sort of people here, mr. borrow--we don't associate with blacklegs, exactly.'" a cantankerous man, and as little fitted for miss cobbe as miss cobbe for him. {picture: francis power cobbe. (reproduced by kind permission of messrs. miller, taylor and holmes.): page .jpg} there is not one pleasant story of borrow in a drawing-room. his great and stately stature, his bright "very black" or "soft brown" eyes, thick white hair, and smooth oval face, his "loud rich voice" that could be menacing with nervousness when he was roused, his "bold heroic air," { } ever encased in black raiment to complete the likeness to a "colossal clergyman," never seemed to go with any kind of furniture, wall- paper, or indoor company where there were strangers who might pester him. his physical vigour endured, though when nearing sixty he is said to have lamented that he was childless, saying mournfully: "i shall soon not be able to knock a man down, and i have no son to do it for me." { a} no record remains of his knocking any man down. but, at seventy, he could have walked off with e. j. trelawny, shelley's friend, under his arm, and was not averse to putting up his "dukes" to a tramp if necessary. { b} at ascot in he intervened when two or three hundred soldiers from windsor were going to wreck a gypsy camp for some affront. amid the cursing and screaming and brandishing of belts and tent-rods appeared "an arbiter, a white-haired brown-eyed calm colossus, speaking romany fluently, and drinking deep draughts of ale--in a quarter of an hour tommy atkins and anselo stanley were sworn friends over a loving quart." { c} but this is told by hindes groome, who said in one place that he met borrow once, and in another three times. at seventy, he would breakfast at eight in hereford square, walk to roehampton and pick up mr. watts-dunton or mr. hake, roam about wimbledon common and richmond park, bathe in the pen ponds even if it were march and there were ice on the water, then run about to dry, and after fasting for twelve hours would eat a dinner at roehampton "that would have done sir walter scott's eyes good to see." { d} he loved richmond park, and "seemed to know every tree." { e} he loved also "the bald-faced stag," in roehampton valley, and over his pot of ale would talk about jerry abershaw, the highwayman, and his deeds performed in the neighbourhood. { f} if he liked old burton and ' port he was willing to drink the worst swipes if necessary. { g} at another "bald-faced hind," above fairlop, he used to see the gypsies, for it was their trysting place. he went in search of them in wandsworth and battersea and whereever they were to be found, from notting hill to epsom downs, though they were corrupted by loss of liberty and, in his opinion, were destined soon to disappear, "merged in the dregs of the english population." with them, as with others, his vocabulary was "rich in picturesque words of the high road and dingle." once he consented to join a friend in trying matthew arnold's "scholar gypsy" on gypsy taste. the gypsy girl was pleased with the seventeenth-century story on which the poem is based, and with some "lovely bits of description," but she was in the main at first bewildered, and at last unsympathetic and ran away. the beauty of the girl was too much for borrow's power of expression--it was "really quite--quite--." the girl's companion, a young woman with a child, was smoking a pipe, and borrow took it out of her mouth and asked her not to smoke till he came again, because the child was sickly and his friend put it down to the tobacco. "it ought to be a criminal offence for a woman to smoke at all," said borrow; "fancy kissing a woman's mouth that smelt of stale tobacco--pheugh!" { } whether this proves borrow's susceptibility to female charm i cannot say, but it seems to me rather to prove a sort of connoisseurship, which is not the same thing. just after he was seventy, in , the year of jasper petulengro's death, borrow left london for oulton. he was no longer the walker and winter bather of a year or two before, but was frequently at lodgings in norwich, and seen and noted as he walked in the streets or sat in the "norfolk." at oulton he was much alone and was to be heard "by startled rowers on the lake" chanting verses after his fashion. his remarkable appearance, his solitariness in the neglected house and tangled garden, his conversation with gypsies whom he allowed to camp on his land, created something of a legend. children called after him "gypsy!" or "witch!" { } towards the end he was joined at oulton by his stepdaughter and her husband, dr. macoubrey. in he was too feeble to walk a few hundred yards, and furious with a man who asked his age. in he made his will. on july , , when he was left entirely alone for the day, he died, after having expected death for some time. he was taken to west brompton to be buried in that cemetery beside his wife. conclusion in his introduction to "the romany rye," { } hindes groome gave a long list of romany ryes to show that borrow was neither the only one nor the first. he went on to say that there must have been over a dozen englishmen, in , with a greater knowledge of the anglo-gypsy dialect than borrow showed in "romano lavo-lil." he added that borrow's knowledge "of the strange history of the gypsies was very elementary, of their manners almost more so, and of their folk-lore practically _nil_." and yet, he concluded, he "would put george borrow above every other writer on the gypsies. . . . he communicates a subtle insight into gypsydom that is totally wanting in the works--mainly philological--of pott, liebich . . . and their _confreres_." hindes groome was speaking, too, from the point of view of a romany student, not of a critic of human literature. in the same way borrow stands above other english writers on spain and wales, for the insight and life that are lacking in the works of the authorities. as a master of the living word, borrow's place is high, and it is unnecessary to make other claims for him. he was a wilful roamer in literature and the world, who attained to no mastery except over words. if there were many romany ryes before borrow, as there were great men before agamemnon, there was not another borrow, as there was not another homer. he sings himself. he creates a wild spain, a wild england, a wild wales, and in them places himself, the gypsies, and other wildish men, and himself again. his outstanding character, his ways and gestures, irresistible even when offensive, hold us while he is in our presence. in these repressed indoor days, we like a swaggering man who does justice to the size of the planet. we run after biographies of extraordinary monarchs, poets, bandits, prostitutes, and see in them magnificent expansions of our fragmentary, undeveloped, or mistaken selves. we love strange mighty men, especially when they are dead and can no longer rob us of property, sleep, or life: we can handle the great hero or blackguard by the fireside as easily as a cat. borrow, as his books portray him, is admirably fitted to be our hero. he stood six-feet-two and was so finely made that, in spite of his own statement which could not be less than true, others have declared him six-feet-three and six- feet-four. he could box, ride, walk, swim, and endure hardship. he was adventurous. he was solitary. he was opinionated and a bully. he was mysterious: he impressed all and puzzled many. he spoke thirty languages and translated their poetry into verse. moreover, he ran away. he ran away from school as a boy. he ran away from london as a youth. he ran away from england as a man. he ran away from west brompton as an old man, to the gypsyries of london. he went out into the wilderness and he savoured of it. his running away from london has something grand and allegorical about it. it reminds me of the welshman on london bridge, carrying a hazel stick which a strange old man recognised as coming from craig-y-dinas, and at the old man's bidding he went to craig-y-dinas and to the cave in it, and found arthur and his knights sleeping and a great treasure buried. . . {picture: the gipsyrie at battersea. photo: w. j. roberts: page .jpg} in these days when it is a remarkable thing if an author has his pocket picked, or narrowly escapes being in a ship that is wrecked, or takes poison when he is young, even the outline of borrow's life is attractive. like byron, ben jonson, and chaucer, he reminds us that an author is not bound to be a nun with a beard. he depicts himself continually, at all ages, and in all conditions of pathos or pride. other human beings, with few exceptions, he depicts only in relation to himself. he never follows men and women here and there, but reveals them in one or two concentrated hours; and either he admires or he dislikes, and there is no mistaking it. thus his humour is limited by his egoism, which leads him into extravagance, either to his own advantage or to the disadvantage of his enemies. he kept good company from his youth up. wistful or fancifully envious admiration for the fortunate simple yeomen, or careless poor men, or noble savages, or untradesmanlike fishermen, or unromanized _germani_, or animals who do not fret about their souls, admiration for those in any class who are not for the fashion of these days, is a deep-seated and ancient sentiment, akin to the sentiment for childhood and the golden age. borrow met a hundred men fit to awaken and satisfy this admiration in an age when thousands can over-eat and over-dress in comfort all the days of their life. sometimes he shows that he himself admires in this way, but more often he mingles with them as one almost on an equality with them, though his melancholy or his book knowledge is at times something of a foil. he introduces us to fighting men, jockeys, thieves, and ratcatchers, without our running any risk of contamination. above all, he introduces us to the gypsies, people who are either young and beautiful or strong, or else witch-like in a fierce old age. izaak walton heard the gypsies talking under the honeysuckle hedge at waltham, and the beggar virgin singing: "bright shines the sun, play, beggars play! here's scraps enough to serve to-day." glanvill told of the poor oxford scholar who went away with the gypsies and learnt their "traditional kind of learning," and meant soon to leave them and give the world an account of what he had learned. men like george morland have lived for a time with gypsies. matthew arnold elaborated glanvill's tale in a sweet oxford strain. all these things delight us. some day we shall be pleased even with the gypsy's carrion- eating and thieving, "those habits of the gypsy, shocking to the moralist and sanitarian, and disgusting to the person of delicate stomach," which please mr. w. h. hudson "rather than the romance and poetry which the scholar-gypsy enthusiasts are fond of reading into him." borrow's gypsies are wild and uncoddled and without sordidness, and will not soon be superseded. they are painted with a lively if ideal colouring, and they live only in his books. they will not be seen again until the day of jefferies' wild england, "after london," shall come, and tents are pitched amidst the ruins of palaces that had displaced earlier tents. borrow's england is the old england of fielding, painted with more intensity because even as borrow was travelling the change was far advanced, and when he was writing had been fulfilled. and now most people have to keep off the grass, except in remotest parts or in the neighbourhood of large towns where landowners are, to some extent, kept in their place. the rivers, the very roads, are not ours, as they were borrow's. we go out to look for them still, and of those who adventure with caravan, tent, or knapsack, the majority must be consciously under borrow's influence. yet he was no mere lover and praiser of old times. his london in is more romantic than the later london of more deliberate romances: he found it romantic; he did not merely think it would be so if only we could see it. he loved the old and the wild too well to deface his feeling by more than an occasional comparison with the new and the refined, and these comparisons are not effective. he is best when he is without apparent design. as a rule if he has a design it is too obvious: he exaggerates, uses the old-fashioned trick of re-appearance and recognition, or breaks out into heavy eloquence of description or meditation. these things show up because he is the most "natural" of writers. his style is a modification of the style of his age, and is without the consistent personal quality of other vigorous men's, like hazlitt or cobbett. perhaps english became a foreign language like his other thirty. thus his books have no professional air, and they create without difficulty the illusion of reality. this lack of a literary manner, this appearance of writing like everybody else in his day, combines, with his character and habits, to endear him to a generation that has had its pater and may find stevenson too silky. more than most authors borrow appears greater than his books, though he is their offspring. it is one of his great achievements to have made his books bring forth this lusty and mysterious figure which moves to and fro in all of them, worthy of the finest scenes and making the duller ones acceptable. he is not greater than his books in the sense that he is greater than the sum of them: as a writer he made the most out of his life. but in the flesh he was a fine figure of a man, and what he wrote has added something, swelling him to more than human proportions, stranger and more heroical. so we come to admire him as a rare specimen of the _genus homo_, who had among other faculties that of writing english; and at last we have him armed with a pen that is mightier than a sword, but with a sword as well, and what he writes acquires a mythical value. should his writing ever lose the power to evoke this figure, it might suffer heavily. we to-day have many temptations to over praise him, because he is a great man, a big truculent outdoor wizard, who comes to our doors with a marvellous company of gypsies and fellows whose like we shall never see again and could not invent. when we have used the impulse he may give us towards a ruder liberty, he may be neglected; but i cannot believe that things so much alive as many and many a page of borrow will ever die. bibliography of george borrow by edward thomas. "new monthly magazine," vol. : "the diver, a ballad translated from the german," by g. o. b. "monthly magazine," vol. : "ode to a mountain torrent," from the german of stolberg; "death," from the swedish of j. c. lohmann; "mountain song," from the german of schiller; "danish poetry and ballad writing," with a translation of "skion middel"; "lenora," a new translation from the german, in the metre of the original; "chloe," from the dutch of johannes bellamy; "sea-song," from the danish of evald; "the erl-king, from the german of goethe; signed "george olaus borrow." "monthly magazine," vol. : "bernard's address to his army," a ballad from the spanish; "the singing mariner," a ballad from the spanish; "the french princess," a ballad from the spanish; "the nightingale," translated from the danish; signed, all but the last, "george olaus borrow." "monthly magazine," vol. : "danish traditions and superstitions"; "war- song," written when the french invaded spain, translated from the spanish of vincente, by george olaus borrow; "danish songs and ballads," no. , bear song, by "b." "universal review," vols. and , may, june, sept, nov.: unsigned reviews by borrow. . "monthly magazine," vol. : "danish traditions and superstitions." "monthly magazine," vol. : "danish traditions and superstitions," in five parts; "the deceived merman," from the danish, by "g. b." "monthly magazine," vol. : "danish traditions and superstitions," in two parts. "universal review," vol. , jan.: unsigned reviews by borrow. "celebrated trials, and remarkable cases of criminal jurisprudence, from the earliest records to the year ." vols. knight and lacey, paternoster row. "faustus: his life, death, and descent into hell," translated from the german. london, simpkin and marshall. . "romantic ballads," translated from the danish: and miscellaneous pieces, by george borrow. norwich, s. wilkin, upper-haymarket. other copies printed by s. wilkin, published by john taylor, london. - . "memoirs of vidocq," principal agent of the french police until , and now proprietor of the paper manufactory at st. mande. written by himself. translated from the french [by borrow?]. vols. london, whittaker, treacher and arnot, ave maria lane. . "foreign quarterly review," vol. , june. [sixteen translations from the danish by borrow, in an article by john bowring.] . "norfolk chronicle," august : on the origin of the word "tory," by george borrow. . "el evangelio segun san lucas traducido del latin al mexicano . . ." londres, impreso por samuel bagster. [corrected for the press by borrow.] . "targum, or metrical translations from thirty languages and dialects," by george borrow. st. petersburg, schulz and beneze. "the talisman," from the russian of alexander pushkin, with other pieces. st. petersburg, schulz and beneze. [translated by borrow.] "mousei echen isus gheristos i tuta puha itche ghese." st. petersburg, schulz and beneze. [edited by borrow.] . "athenaeum," august : "the gypsies of russia and spain." [unsigned.] "athenaeum," march . review of "targum," and of borrow's edition of the "manchu bible," by john p. hasfeldt, . "el nuevo testamento, traducido al espanol. . . ." madrid, d. joaquin de la barrera. edited by borrow. "embeo e majaro lucas. . . . el evangelio segun s. lucas, traducido al romani, o dialecto de los gitanos de espana." madrid. [translated by borrow, "in badajoz, in the winter of ."] . "evangelioa san lucasen guissan. el evangelio segun s. lucas, traducido al vascuence." madrid, gompania tipografica. [edited by borrow.] . "the zincali, or an account of the gypsies of spain, with an original collection of their songs, and a copious dictionary of their language." by george borrow, late agent of the british and foreign bible society. in vols. london, john murray. . "athenaeum," april and may; review of "the zincali." "blackwood," september; review of "the zincali." "monthly review," may; review of "the zincali." "westminster review," may; review of "the zincali," by john bowring. "british and foreign review," june. review of "the zincali," by richard ford. "excursions along the shores of the mediterranean," by col. e. h. d. elers napier. "gypsies," by samuel roberts. th edition. (letter by borrow.) "the bible in spain, or the journeys, adventures, and imprisonments of an englishman, in an attempt to circulate the scriptures in the peninsula," by george borrow. in vols. london, john murray. "athenaeum," december; review of "the bible in spain." "quarterly," december; review of "the bible in spain." "spectator," december; review of "the bible in spain." . "the zincali." second edition, with preface dated march , . "memoirs of william taylor," by j. w. robberds. "edinburgh review," february; review of "the bible in spain," by richard ford. "dublin review," may; review of "the bible in spain." "tait's edinburgh review," february, march; review of "the bible in spain." . "lavengro: the scholar--the gypsy--the priest," by george borrow. in vols. london, john murray. portrait by henry wyndham phillips. "athenaeum," february; review of "lavengro." "blackwood," march; review of "lavengro." "fraser," march; review of "lavengro." "new monthly magazine," march; review of "lavengro," by w. h. ainsworth. "new monthly magazine," april; review of "lavengro," by t. gordon hake. "tait's edinburgh magazine," may; review of "lavengro," by william bodham donne. "britannia," april ; review of "lavengro." . "hungary in ; with an experience of the austrian police," by charles l. brace. . "the romany rye," a sequel to "lavengro," by george borrow. in vols. london, john murray. "quarterly review"; review of "lavengro," by whitwell elwin. "saturday review," may ; review of "lavengro." "athenaeum," may ; review of "lavengro." . "history of the british and foreign bible society," by george browne. . "the sleeping bard, or visions of the world, death, and hell," by elis wyn. translated from the cambrian british by george borrow. london, john murray. . "quarterly review," january: "the welsh and their literature," by george borrow. . "wild wales: its people, language, and scenery," by george borrow. vols. london, john murray. "spectator," december; review of "wild wales." "once a week," vol. : "ballads of the isle of man,"--"brown william," and "mollie charane." "russian popular tales"--"emelian the fool," "the story of yvashka with the bear's ear," and "the story of tim." vol. : "harold harfagr." [translations by borrow.] . "once a week," vol. : "the count of vendel's daughter." vol. : "the hail-storm, or the death of bui." [translations by borrow.] "the cornhill magazine," january; review of "wild wales." . "romany rye," rd edition, with note by borrow. . "romano lavo-lil: word-book of the romany, or english gypsy language. with many pieces in gypsy, illustrative of the way of thinking of the english gypsies: with specimens of their poetry, and an account of certain gypsyries or places inhabited by them, and of various things relating to gypsy life in england." by george borrow. london, john murray. "athenaeum," april ; review of "romano lavo-lil." "academy," june ; review of "romano lavo-lil," by f. hindes groome. . "correspondence and table talk of b. r. haydon." . "autobiography of harriet martineau." . "in gypsy tents," by f. hindes groome. . "athenaeum," august , article by whitwell elwin. "athenaeum," august , article by a. egmont hake. "athenaeum," september and , articles by theodore watts. "macmillan's magazine," november, articles by a. egmont hake. . "memories of old friends," by caroline fox. . "east anglican handbook," article by charles mackie. "east anglia," by j. ewing ritchie. "the red dragon, the national magazine of wales." vol. . "george borrow in wales," by tal-a-hen. . "the turkish jester; or, the pleasantries of cogia nasr eddin effendi." translated from the turkish by george borrow. ipswich, w. webber. . "ecrivains modernes de l'angleterre," par emile montegut. . "macmillan's magazine," article by george saintsbury. . "obiter dicta," by augustine birrell. [ nd series.] "epoch (u.s.a.)" article by julian hawthorne. . "athenaeum," march , article by theodore watts. "reflector," jan. , article by augustine birrell. "la critique scientifique," by emile hennequin. paris. . "the death of balder." translated from the danish of evald, by george borrow. norwich. london, jarrold and son. "letters and literary remains of edward fitzgerald." "journal of gypsy lore society," vol. , article by rev. wentworth webster. "bible in spain," with biographical introduction by g. t. bettany, london: ward, lock. . "views and reviews," by w. e. henley. "essays in english literature," by g. saintsbury. . "a publisher and his friends," by samuel smiles. . "eastern daily press," september , , . "eastern daily press," october . "bohemes et gypsies" (translation of parts of "lavengro," with biographical sketch by h. duclos. paris). "memoirs of eighty years," by thomas gordon hake. . "bookman," february, article by f. hindes groome. "athenaeum," july , article by augustus jessopp. "athenaeum," july , article by a. w. upcher. "lavengro," with introduction by theodore watts. london, ward, lock. "memoirs," by c. g. leland. . "letters of edward fitzgerald," edited by w. aldis wright. "life of frances power cobbe," by herself. . "journals and correspondence of lady eastlake," edited by c. e. smith. "good words," february, article by john murray. . "george borrow in east anglia," by w. a. dutt. "lavengro," with introduction by augustine birrell; illustrated by e. j. sullivan. london, macmillan. "bible in spain," with notes and glossary by ulick ralph burke. london, murray. "globe," july . "vestiges of george borrow: some personal reminiscences." . "bible society reporter," july. "life, writings, and correspondence of george borrow," derived from official and other authentic sources, by william i. knapp, with portrait and illustrations. vols. london, john murray. "athenaeum," march ; review of w. i. knapp's "life of borrow," by theodore watts-dunton. "bookman," may; review of knapp, by f. hindes groome. . "lavengro." a new edition, containing the unaltered text of the original issue; some suppressed episodes; ms. variorum, vocabulary and notes. by the author of "the life of george borrow." definitive edition. london, john murray. "lavengro," illustrated by c. a. shepperson, with introduction by c. e. beckett. "the romany rye." a new edition, containing the unaltered text of the original issue; some suppressed episodes; ms. variorum, vocabulary and notes. by the author of "the life of george borrow." definitive edition. london, john murray. "the romany rye," with a defence of george borrow, by theodore watts-dunton. "daily chronicle," april , , article by augustus jessopp. . "more letters of edward fitzgerald," edited by w. aldis wright. "archiv, n. s.," july; "george borrow," by georg herzfeld. berlin. "isopel berners," edited by thomas seccombe. [passages arranged from "lavengro" and "the romany rye."] "lavengro," edited by f. hindes groome. . "bookman," february; "george borrow, his homes and haunts," by thomas seccombe. "some th century men of letters," by whitwell elwin, edited by warwick elwin. . "the romany rye," edited by john sampson. . "story of the bible society," by william canton. "gypsy stories from 'the bible in spain,'" edited by w. h. d. rouse. "stories of antonio and benedict mol," edited by w. h. d. rouse. "lavengro," illustrated by claude shepperson. . "the letters of richard ford," edited by r. e. prothero. "william bodham donne and his friends," by catherine b. johnson. "selections from george borrow." london, arnold. "spanish influence on english literature," by martin a. s. hume. . "lavengro," edited by thomas seccombe. (everyman library.) "wild wales," edited by theodore watts-dunton. (everyman library.) "the bible in spain," edited by edward thomas. (everyman library.) "charles godfred leland," by elizabeth robins pennell. "the vagabond in literature," by arthur rickett. . "immortal memories," by clement shorter. "the literature of roguery," by frank w. chandler. . "george borrow: the man and his work," by r. a. j. walling. "the annals of willenhall," by frederick william hackwood. "the bible in the world," july; "footprints of george borrow," by a. g. jayne. . "the border magazine," march, april: "george borrow and the borders," by j. pringle. "annals of the harford family." . "the little guide to staffordshire," by charles masefield (s.v. willenhall and bushbury). "y cymmrodor" (journal of the honourable society of cymmrodorion): "journal of borrow's second tour in wales," with notes by t. c. cantrill and j. pringle. "gypsy lore." vol. (new series): article on borrow's "gypsies," by t. w. thompson. "george borrow," by bernhard blaesing. berlin. . "letters of george borrow to the bible society," edited by t. h. darlow. "post liminium," by lionel johnson. . "the life of george borrow," compiled from unpublished official documents, his works, correspondence, etc. by herbert jenkins, with a frontispiece and other illustrations. london, john murray. "nation," review of above, feb. . "new age," review of above, by t. w. thompson, march. index "adventures of captain singleton, the," pp. - , . "athenaeum, the," pp. , , - , , , . barbauld, mrs., p. . benson, a. c., p. . berners, isopel, pp. , , , . _see also_ romany rye--characters. berwick-upon-tweed, p. . bible in spain, the, general references, pp. , , , , , , , . studied in detail, pp. - . autobiographical basis of, p. . characters of, pp. - : benedict mol, pp. - ; antonio, pp. - ; abarbanel, p. ; francisco, pp. - . materials of, pp. , , , , , . style, pp. , - : faults, p. ; biblical touches, p. ; dialogue, pp. - ; foreign words, pp. , - . quotations from, pp. - , , - , , - . contemporary and other criticisms of:--pp. , - , , , . british and foreign bible society, the, pp. , , - , - , ; for borrow's letters to the society, _see_ "letters." blackheath, pp. , . borrow, ann, pp. , , , , , , , , , , . borrow, john thomas, pp. - , , , , , . borrow, george henry, (i) life:-- parentage, pp. - . birth, pp. , . his name, pp. - . travelling with his father's regiment, pp. - . at pett, pp. , . at hythe, pp. , . at canterbury, p. . at dereham, pp. , . at norman cross, and first meeting with gypsies, p. . at school at dereham, huddersfield and edinburgh, p. ; at norwich grammar school, p. ; at the protestant academy, clonmel, pp. - ; again at norwich grammar school, pp. , - . plays truant, pp. , . breakdown in health at sixteen, pp. , . articled to a solicitor at norwich, p. . frequents taylor's circle, pp. - . reads in the library of norwich guildhall, p. . publishes translations, pp. - . has another illness, p. . goes to london, p. . compiles "celebrated trials" and publishes translations and articles, p. . ill again: leaves london and begins wandering, p. . poisoned by mrs. herne, p. ; meets isopel berners, _id_. at norwich in , p. ; in london in same year, _id_. at norwich in , p. . in london in and , _id_. at norwich in , p. . meets mrs. clarke, , p. . interview with the bible society in same year, _id_. sent to st. petersburg, july, , pp. - . travels to novgorod and moscow, p. . leaves russia in , p. . after a month in england, sails for lisbon in november, , p. . crosses into spain early in , reaches madrid, and returns to london in october, p. . returns to spain at the end of a month, p. . quarrels with the society, and is recalled in , pp. - . returns to spain at end of the same year, p. . journeys to tangier and barbary in , p. . becomes engaged to mrs. clarke, p. . leaves spain finally in april, , p. . marries mrs. clarke, _id_. settles at oulton, p. . publication of "the zincali" in , p. . publication of "the bible in spain" in , p. . re-editions and translations of "the bible in spain," p. . his fame and popularity, _id_. is not made a j.p., p. . restless and unsatisfied, p. . travels again in , p. . settles in england, p. . writes "lavengro," p. . publication of "lavengro" in , p. . moves to yarmouth in , p. . publication of "the romany rye" delayed, p. . his annoyance at the criticisms of "lavengro," pp. , - . tours in cornwall in , p. . in wales in , pp. - . in the isle of man in , pp. - . in wales in , pp. - . in scotland in , pp. - . settles in london in , p. . visits ireland in , p. . publication of "wild wales" in , p. . in scotland and ireland in , p. . in sussex and hampshire in , p. . meets leland in , pp. - . publication of "romano lavo-lil" in , p. . anecdotes of borrow _aetat_. - , pp. - . leaves london and goes to oulton in , p. . is often in norwich, _id_. death in , p. . (ii.) character:-- appearance, pp. , , , , - (at twenty-two), - (at forty), (at eighty). portraits, pp. , , . manners, pp. - . habits as a child, pp. , . self-centred, p. ; reserved and solitary, p. ; melancholy, pp. , , , ; mysterious and impressive, pp. - , , ; sensitive, p. attacks of "horrors," pp. , , sqq., . surly and ill-tempered in middle life, pp. , . kindness to animals, pp. - . passion for horses, pp. , - , , . dislike of smoking, pp. , ; and other prejudices, pp. - . attitude towards vagrants and criminals, pp. - . patriotism, pp. , - . religious belief, pp. , - , , , - , , , , - , , - , - , , , , - . his memory, pp. - , , . (iii.) characteristics as a writer:-- collection and choice of material, pp. , - , . personality and observation, p. . descriptive power, pp. - . vocabulary, pp. , . use of the marvellous and supernatural, p. . treatment of facts, pp. , , - , , , , , , , - , , , , , , - . use of dramatic re-appearances, pp. , , , - , - , , , . love of mystery and romance, pp. , - , , - , , , . final estimate, pp. - . (iv.) literary development:-- his imagination stimulated by danish relics, p. . his reading, pp. - , - , . character of his early work, pp. - , , - , . (v.) knowledge of languages:-- latin, pp. , ; greek, pp. , ; irish, pp. , ; french, p. ; italian, _id_.; spanish, _id_.; gypsy, pp. , - , ; welsh, pp. , - ; danish, p. ; hebrew, p. ; arabic, pp. , ; armenian, pp. , , ; german, p. ; portuguese, p. ; old english, p. ; old norse, p. ; swedish, p. ; dutch, p. ; persian, pp. , ; manchu-tartar, pp. , ; russian, pp. - ; manx, pp. - : translations from welsh, pp. , , ; from danish, pp. , ; from german, pp. , , from swedish, p. ; from dutch, p. ; from gypsy, pp. - ; from russian, pp. - ; from manx, p. ; from "thirty languages," pp. , . (vi.) portrayal of himself:-- general references, pp. , , , , , , , , , - . as a child, p. . as a missionary, p. . in "the zincali," pp. - . in "the bible in spain," pp. , , , - . in "lavengro," pp. - . in "the romany rye," pp. - , - . in "wild wales," pp. - . borrow, mary, pp. , , , . borrow, thomas, pp. , - , , , . early life and marriage, p. . at norwich, pp. , - , . death, p. . bowring, j., pp. - , , , , . brooke, j., p. . bunyan, j., p. . burton, r., pp. - . byron, ld., pp. , , , . carlyle, j., p. . "catholic times, the," p. . "celebrated trials," pp. , , , . clarke, henrietta, pp. , , , , , , . clarke, mary, pp. , , , , - , : _see also_ borrow mary. cobbe, f. p., pp. - . cobbett, w., pp. - , . cowper, w., pp , . "dairyman's daughter, the," pp. - . darlow, t. h., pp. , . defoe, d., pp. , - , , . de quincey, t., pp. , . donne, w. b., p. . dutt, w. a., p. . east dereham, pp. , , . eastlake, lady, p. . "edinburgh review, the," pp. , , . "elvir hill," p. . elwin, w., pp. , , , . "english rogue, the," p. . "examiner, the," p. . fitzgerald, e., pp. , . flamson, p. . ford, r., pp. , , , , , , , , , - , , , , , , , . fox, caroline, p. . "fraser's magazine," pp. - . giraldus cambrensis, pp. - . "gil blas," pp. , . goethe, p. . groome, f. hindes, pp. , , . gurney, a., p. . gypsies, pp. , - , - , - , - , , , , - , - , - , - , , , , - , , - , - , - , - , - , - , - . "gypsies of spain, the," _see_ "zincali, the." "gypsy lore" (article by t. w. thompson), p. . haggart, david, pp. - . hake, a. e., pp. , . hake, g., p. . hardy, t., p. . "hayward, s. d., the life of," pp. - . hazlitt, w., p. . hudson, w. h., p. . jefferies, r., pp. , , . "joseph sell," pp. - , . keats, j., p, . knapp, w. i., pp. , , , - , - , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , - , - , , , , , , , , . lamb, c., p. . lavengro, general references, p. , - , , , , , , , , , , , - , , , . studied in detail, pp. - . autobiographical basis, pp. , - , . characters of, pp. , - . the publisher, pp. - . the anglo-germanist, p. . jasper petulengro, s.v. and pp. - . _see also_ romany rye--characters. materials of, pp. , - . style, pp. - , - . occasionally victorian, pp. - . the vocabulary, pp. - . quotations from, pp. - , - , - , - , - , - , , - , - , - , - , - , , - , - , - , - , , - , - . contemporary and other criticisms of:--pp. , , , , . leland, c. g., pp. - , - . letters of borrow to the bible society, general references, pp. , , , , - , . quotations from, pp. - , - , - , , . lhuyd's "archaeologia," p. . "life, a drama," pp. , . lockhart, j. g., p. . "mabinogion, the," p. . mackintosh, sir j., p. . martineau, j., p. . martineau, h., p. . "moll flanders," p. . montegut, e., p. . "monthly magazine, the," pp. , . moore-carew, b., pp. - . morganwg, iolo, p. . murray, j., pp. , , , . "my life: a drama," p. . napier, col., pp. - , . "new monthly magazine, the," p. . "newgate lives and trials," _see_ "_celebrated trials_." "once a week," pp. , . opie, a., p. . oulton, pp. , , . "oxford review, the," _see_ "universal review, the." perfrement, ann, p. : _see also_ borrow, ann. peto, mr., p. . petulengro, jasper, pp. , - , , , , , : _see also_ lavengro--characters. phillips, h. w., p. . phillips, sir, r., pp. , , . "quarterly review, the," pp. , , - . reynolds, j. h., pp. - . ritchie, j. e., p. . robinson, crabb, p. . "robinson crusoe," pp. - , . "romantic ballads," pp. , , . romano lavo-lil, autobiographical anecdote in, pp. - . publication of, pp. - . criticisms of, pp. - . main interest of, pp. - . romany rye, the, general references, pp. , , , , . studied in detail, pp. - . inferiority to "lavengro," p. . autobiographical basis of, p. - , , . characters of, pp. , - . flamson, p. . the old radical, p. . isopel berners, s.v. and pp. - . the man in black, pp. - . materials of, pp. - . style, _see under_ lavengro--style. quotations from, pp. - , - , - , - , - , - , - , - , , - , - , - , - . contemporary and other criticisms of, pp. , . "saturday review, the," p. . scaliger, j., p. . scott, sir w., pp. , . seccombe, t., pp. , , , , , - , - . "sleeping bard, the," pp. - , - . smith, ambrose, pp. , , . smollett, j., pp. , . "songs of scandinavia," p. . southey, r., pp. , . sterne, l. pp. , , . stevenson, r. l., p. . strickland, a., p. . "tait's edinburgh magazine," p. . "targum," pp. , . taylor, w., pp. , - . thurtell, j., pp. , - , , , - . "turkish jester, the," p. . "universal review, the," pp. , . vidocq's memoirs, pp - , . "vocabulary of the gypsy language," p. . walling, r. a. j., pp. , , , , , , . "wandering children and the benevolent gentleman, the," p. . watts-dunton, t., pp. , , , , , , . wesley, j., p. . wild wales, general references, pp. , - . studied in detail, pp. - . autobiographical basis, pp. - . characters of, pp. - . the bard, pp. - . the irish fiddler, pp. - . materials of, pp. , . style, pp. - . quotations from, pp. - , , - , - , - - , , - , - , , . criticisms of, p. . wordsworth, w., p. . yeats, w. b., p. . zincali, the, general references, pp. , in, . studied in detail, pp. - . autobiographical basis of, p. . characters of, the gitana of seville, pp. - . materials of, p. , - , , . style, pp. , , . contemporary and other criticisms of, pp. - , . quotations from, p. - , - , - , - , - , - , - . footnotes: { } thomas seccombe; introduction to "lavengro" (everyman). { } "gypsy lore," jan., . { } "lavengro," chapter vi. { a} knapp i., - . { b} ii., . { a} good-day. { b} glandered horse. { c} two brothers. { a} christmas, literally wine-day. { b} irishman or beggar, literally a dirty squalid person. { c} guineas. { a} silver teapots. { b} the gypsy word for a certain town (norwich). { } suppressed ms. of "lavengro," quoted in knapp i., . { } knapp i., . { } "lavengro." { } _see_ "panthera" in "time's laughing stocks," by thomas hardy. { a} j. ewing ritchie. { b} dr. knapp, i., , connects this question with captain borrow's last will and testament, made on feb. , . { } "george borrow: the man and his work," . { a} translation published, norwich, , anonymous. { b} translation published, london, jarrold & sons, . { } "romantic ballads." { } "the gypsies." { a} "the romany rye," edited by f. hindes groome. { b} translated, . { } "isopel berners." { } knapp, i., . { } _see_ "_wild wales_," chapter xxxiii. { } borrow's letters to the bible society: introduction, p. . { a} borrow's letters to the bible society, p. . { b} _ibid_., p. . { c} _ibid_., p. . { d} _ibid_., p. . { a} borrow's letters to the bible society, p. . { b} _ibid_., p. . { } borrow's letters to the bible society, p. . { } august , . { } wentworth webster, in "journal of gypsy lore society." { } "borrow's letters to the bible society," p. . { } "borrow's letters to the bible society," p. . { } letter to the bible society, th nov., . { } "edinburgh review," february, . { } the hostess, maria diaz, and her son juan jose lopez, were present when the outcast uttered these prophetic words. { a} edited by t. h. darlow, hodder and stoughton. { b} _see_, _e.g._, "bible in spain," chapter xiii. "i shall have frequent occasion to mention the swiss in the course of _these journals_ . . ."; also the preface. { c} _ibid_., p. . { } borrow's letters to the bible society, p. . { } knapp, i., p. . { } witch. ger. hexe. { } fake. { } egmont hake; "athenaeum," th august, . { } "george borrow in east anglia," by w. a. dutt. { } t. watts-dunton in "lavengro" (minerva library). { } "memoirs of years," by gordon hake. { } "edward fitzgerald," a. c. benson. { a} "athenaeum," july, . { b} knapp and w. a. dutt. { } see chapters ii., iii., and iv. { a} r. a. j. walling. { b} "athenaeum," th march, . { } "lavengro" (minerva library). { a} "in gypsy tents." { b} march th, . { } "isopel berners." { } "isopel berners," edited by thomas seccombe. { a} vol. xxii., . { b} merlin's bridge, on the outskirts of haverfordwest. { c} merlin's hill. { d} river daucleddau. the river at haverfordwest is the western cleddau; it joins the eastern cleddau about six miles below the town. both rivers then become known as daucleddau or the two cleddaus. { e} borrow means milford haven; the swallowing capacities of the western cleddau are small. { f} north-west. { a} pelcomb bridge. { b} camrose parish. { c} appropriately known as tinker's bank. { d} dr. knapp was unable to decipher this word. he remarks in a note that the pencillings are much rubbed and almost illegible. we think, however, that the word should be plumstone, a lofty hill which borrow would see just before he crossed pelcomb bridge. { e} this was a low thatched cottage on the st. david's road, half-way up keeston hill. a few years ago it was demolished, and a new and more commodious building known as the hill arms erected on its site. { f} the old inn was kept by the blind woman, whose name was mrs. lloyd. many stories are related of her wonderful cleverness in managing her business, and it is said that no customer was ever able to cheat her with a bad coin. her blindness was the result of an attack of small-pox when twelve years of age. { g} dr. knapp's insertion. { h} it is doubtful if there was a chapel; no one remembers it. { a} nanny dallas is a mistake. no such name is remembered by the oldest inhabitants, and it seems certain that the woman borrow met was nanny lawless, who lived at simpson a short distance away. { b} evan rees, of summerhill (a mile south-east of roch). { c} sger-las and sger-ddu, two isolated rocky islets off solva harbour. the headlands are the numerous prominences which jut out along the north shore of st. bride's bay. { d} newgale bridge. { e} jemmy raymond. "remaunt" is the local pronunciation. jemmy and his ass appear to have been two well-known figures in roch thirty or forty years ago; the former died about the year . { f} pen-y-cwm. { g} davies the carpenter was undoubtedly the man; he was noted for his stature. dim-yn-clywed--deaf. { } "athenaeum," th april, . { } a. egmont hake. { a} whitwell elwin. { b} t. watts-dunton. { c} f. hindes groome. { d} t. watts-dunton. { e} _ibid_. { f} a. egmont hake. { g} _ibid_. { } t. watts-dunton. { } thomas seccombe: "everyman" edition of "lavengro." { } methuen & co. john deane of nottingham--historic adventures by land and sea, by w.h.g. kingston. ________________________________________________________________________ according to the author in his preface, john deane really existed and had an interesting and successful life in a variety of roles. he was born in , of well-to-do parents, but started his working life as a drover, that is to say a person who drove great herds of cattle from the countryside to the great cities like london, for consumption there. he then joined the navy and rose to become a ship's captain. after a spell as a merchant adventurer, he commanded a vessel in the russian navy of alexander the great. later he became british consul at ostend, on the coast of belgium, quite close to south-east england. finally he came back home to live in a village near nottingham, receiving civic honours in that city. he died in . this book could therefore be called a historical novel, but written with the style and genius of kingston it becomes far more than that. you will enjoy it. ________________________________________________________________________ john deane of nottingham--historic adventures by land and sea, by w.h.g. kingston. preface. john deane was a real person, and i hope that the readers of this my book about him will be as much pleased with it as i was with the history of his adventures, placed in my hands by a friend who long resided at nottingham. he was born at that town a.d. . though of gentle parentage, in his early days he followed the occupation of a drover. he then went to sea, and became a captain in the navy; after that he was a merchant adventurer. he next took service under peter the great, and commanded a russian ship-of-war. on leaving russia, he obtained the post of british consul at ostend, held by him for many years. returning home, he was made a burgess of his native town, and took up his abode at the neighbouring village of wilford, where, in , he died. in the quiet churchyard of that sweet spot, his tomb and that of his beloved wife elizabeth are to be seen:-- "his age, fourscore years and one." "after life's fitful fever, he sleeps well." the author. chapter one. mr harwood and alethea in sherwood forest, and jack deane's first adventure. romantic sherwood! its pristine glories since the days when bold robin hood and his merrie men held sway within its borders, and levied taxes from the passers-by, had sadly dwindled even in the year , when our history commences. the woodman's axe had been busy and the plough had gone over the land, and mansions and homesteads had arisen where once flourished the monarchs of the forest, and the huntsman's horn had been wont to sound amid sequestered glades; still many a wide stretch of woodland and moorland remained, over which the fallow deer roamed at freedom, and rows of far-spreading trees overhung various by-paths green and narrow winding in all directions, and shaded the king's highway which ran north to york and south to the ancient and pleasant town of nottingham. and there were likewise majestic avenues leading to the abodes of nobles and squires, and thick copses and scattered groves, above which rose the hoary giants of ancient days; and by the borders of the streams and rivulets which find their way into the trent numberless trees had been allowed to stand. wide strips also of grass-land were to be found running even with the road or between different estates, extending sometimes in an unbroken line for several miles together, with oaks and elms and beeches stretching out their umbrageous branches to meet from either side, and preserving by their shade the soft velvet of the turf even during the heats of summer. thus the old forest trees, if marshalled in close order, would have formed a wood of no inconsiderable magnitude. the noon-day sun of the warm summer was shining down on the branches of the wide-spreading trees shading a long woodland glade, such as has been described running from the north towards nottingham, the walls of whose siege-battered castle could be seen in the far distance, where on a slight eminence the trees opening out afforded a momentary glance of the country in front. just at that spot a gentleman of middle age, mounted on a strong, active horse, accompanied by a young lady on a graceful palfrey, was riding at a leisurely pace along the glade in the direction of the town. the gold lace with which his long, loose riding-coat was trimmed, his embroidered waistcoat, the gold ornament which secured the turned-up flaps of his beaver, and more than all, the jewel-hilted sword by his side, bespoke a person of position. he wore also leather breeches and buff-leather boots, the usual horseman's dress of the period. the fair girl by his side sat her horse with that perfect ease which habit alone can give. her blue riding-coat was turned up with white, with broad flaps and pockets, the petticoat below being of the same colour; her waistcoat was elegantly embroidered, and the small three-cornered hat with a jewel in front which she wore on the top of her light auburn hair, undisfigured by powder, completed her unassuming yet most becoming costume. her figure was tall and slight, and her fair and brilliant complexion increased the beauty of her well-formed features, expressive of wit and humour, at the same time indicating thought and feeling. such at sixteen was alethea harwood, the only child of the worshipful mr rupert harwood, of harwood grange, the gentleman on the tall horse by whose side she rode. "i have no great affection for yonder town," observed squire harwood, pointing southward with his hand. "i cannot forget my father's account of the times when red-nosed noll ruled the roost, and that arch-traitor hutchinson held the castle, and insulted all the cavaliers in the town and neighbourhood by his preaching, and his cant, and his strict rules and regulations; and now, forsooth, every man and woman in the place thinks fit to stand up for the usurper william, and not an expression of sympathy do i hear for the cruel fate of our lawful sovereign king james." "poor king! it was treacherous in his ministers and officers to desert him; but what could be expected of men brought up in the days of the commonwealth?" observed alethea, with a slight tone of scorn in her sweet voice. "however, perhaps, when they get tired of the prince of orange, our king will have his own again." "pray heaven he may!" ejaculated the jacobite squire. "and now, daughter, let me counsel you to deport yourself with becoming dignity and reserve during our visit to the deane family. mr deane is, i own, a man of credit and honour, and would never desire to injure a human being. i am, moreover, indebted to him for certain sums advanced on my estate, and of dire necessity only accepted; so that i wish he should be treated with all courtesy and respect. but he is an obstinate supporter of this vile government, and with him and one or two other exceptions, as i feel is my duty to my order and party, i hate them all, root and branch; they are a money-making, mean-spirited, trading set. it surprises me that any of the nobility and old families of the country can adhere to them. what, however, can be expected from stocking-weavers and such like? well, well! i was speaking of that worthy man deane. there is his wife, a good dame and a careful mother, and his two daughters. you know them better than i do--passable girls though, they seem to me; not exactly such as i might have chosen as your companions; but _tempora mutantur_, as we used to say at college! i'faith, most of my latin has slipped out of my memory. and then there are those two sons. the eldest, jasper, seems a quiet, proper-behaved young man enough. college has polished him up a little, but of the other i know but little; a broad-shouldered lad he seemed, not ill fitted to fight his way through life, as far as outward figure goes. and master jasper, what is to be his course in life? will his father bring him up as a gentleman?" "his sister polly told me that master jasper is to become a physician, to follow in the footsteps of their esteemed cousin, dr nathaniel deane," answered alethea. "i suppose that might be considered the calling of a gentleman." "humph!" ejaculated the squire, as if he had not quite made up his mind on the subject. "that, according to my notions, depends on the original position of a person. it is better than that of some others, my lord's chaplain, or the reverend vicar's curate, as was the lot of some of my college chums; however, i dare say, with so renowned a guide, master jasper will prove an honour to the profession. but the breeze feels cool beneath these trees; we will canter on, or you will not have time to change your habit, and be in readiness for mistress deane's entertainment." at a touch of alethea's whip, her palfrey broke into an easy canter, and her father's steed moving on at a trot, they soon reached parliament street on the confines of nottingham, and passing saint anne's well, they entered through bridlesmith's gate the broad market-place. this was, then as now, the widest open space in the town, and had many fine mansions standing round it. on their left was that long thoroughfare called the pavement, with the grim old castle walls at the farther end, and the sparkling trent on the other side; while close to them were butchers' and other shops, as well as those of the handicraftsmen, from which the different entrances on that side of the once fortified town took their names. as mr harwood and his daughter emerged from the somewhat ill-paved and narrow street into the broad market-place, their ears were assailed by loud cries and shouts of men and boys, numbers of whom were issuing from the narrow passages which led out of parliament street, while from doors and windows appeared eager faces of spectators bending forward to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. the shouts, mingled with the barking of dogs, grew louder and louder, till they approached the squire and his daughter. now the mob was seen to move in one direction, and now in another. "it is nothing, i believe, but some apprentice-lads baiting an ox," observed mr harwood as they moved forward. just at that moment the crowd, with a pack of barking dogs, came rushing on helter-skelter in hot pursuit of a brindled cow--so it seemed--whose heels its canine tormentors were ever and anon attacking, making it start forward with the pain they inflicted. at the same time a youth with his coat off and a stick in his hand was endeavouring to drive off the dogs, and shouting to the mob of rough-looking apprentices who were urging them on, to desist from the pursuit. his orders were, however, treated with but little attention, for the mob of lads and boys extending for some distance on either side continued their shouts and cries, with peals of laughter at the frantic movements of the unhappy animal. so completely was the road blocked up that mr harwood and his daughter were compelled to turn back to avoid them. just, however, as they were about to do so, the maddened cow dashed forward, and before alethea could turn her horse, its horns had struck the animal's side, and caught the skirt of her riding-dress. dashing on, it would have dragged her from her seat, had not the young man who had been attempting to save the creature from its tormentors at that moment sprang forward and disentangled her dress, preventing her from falling from her palfrey. "stand back, you young ruffians!" shouted mr harwood to the mob. "understand that i am a justice of the peace, and that i will summon you one and all before the magistrates of the town for this uproar." the mob of apprentices, seeing the harm which their frolic might have produced, hung back, many of them taking to their heels, while others called off the dogs, which they had before been inciting to pursue the cow, which continued its course through bridlesmith's gate, glad to escape its pursuers. "i have to thank you, young man, for the service you have rendered my daughter and me, and should be glad to reward you to the best of my ability," said mr harwood, turning to the youth who was holding alethea's bridle whilst she recovered her seat in the saddle. "i must have these scapegraces brought up for punishment before the magistrates to-morrow; such proceedings ought not to take place in a well-ordered town." the young man thus addressed drew himself up with a somewhat haughty air, as he replied, "i am glad to have rendered the young lady a service, sir, and require no reward for doing so; and as for punishing those fellows, i would rather have the opportunity of drubbing a few of them with my fists for worrying poor old dame pitt's lame cow, than see them sent to prison for their freak. it may be all very well for them to bait their cattle when they want tender meat, but they had no business to treat that poor animal in the way they did; and i told them so when they began, and promised them i would put a stop to it." "you are a brave lad," said mr harwood, looking at the speaker approvingly. "may i ask your name?" "i am called jack deane, sir," answered the young man, "at your service. i belong to nottingham, and know every one of those apprentice-lads, and do not wish to bring them into trouble; but i will give the ringleaders as sound a thrashing as they ever had in their lives before long, for their conduct this day." "well, well! i suppose we must leave you to settle the matter in your own way," said mr harwood; "but if your name is jack deane, i conclude that you are the younger son of my friend mr jasper deane, to whose house my daughter and i are now bending our way." "yes, sir, the house of my father, mr deane, is situated to the south there, on the farther side of the market-place, and with your leave, sir, i will accompany you and your daughter thither, after which i must be allowed to go in search of widow pitt's cow, and carry the animal back to her. i shall have time to do that and give a few of the apprentices a drubbing before dinner-time." saying this, jack deane, putting his arms again into the sleeves of his coat, adjusted his dress, which had been somewhat disordered by the scuffle; then placing his hand on the reins of miss harwood's palfrey, he walked by her side towards the house at which he had pointed. "well, well! i must leave you to keep order in the town, master deane," said mr harwood, laughing; "when there is so good a guardian of the peace as you appear to be, it would be useless for me to interfere; and i would not stop you from restoring the cow to the poor widow. at the same time, i may suggest that it might be as well to let alone the drubbing of the apprentices till a more convenient season, or you may get somewhat overheated and fatigued before your appearance at the dinner-table." "oh, that will be nothing, sir!" answered jack, clutching his stout cudgel; "though to be sure the chances are that they will keep out of my way. when they get cool they will think better of it, before they will wish to encounter me. i only hope miss harwood's palfrey has not suffered, or her habit either; i am sure the poor animal did not wish to do her harm." "oh, no! thanks to you, mr deane, both my horse and i have escaped harm," said alethea, looking at the young man with a kind smile. on reaching the door of mr deane's house, jack held the young lady's bridle while she dismounted, and then insisted on taking her horse and her father's round to the stables while they entered the house. having unsaddled the steeds, and given them some corn and hay, he hurried off to fulfil his intention of restoring dame pitt's cow to her; but he was less successful in executing his purpose of thrashing the apprentices, in consequence, as he expected would be the case, of their judiciously keeping out of his way; when, failing in his efforts to discover them, he returned home, feeling that he might defer the execution of his purpose to another opportunity, should he on further consideration deem it necessary. chapter two. dinner at mr deane's in nottingham--jack deane announces the profession he has chosen. as the hour of dinner approached, the expected guests began to arrive at the hall-door of mr deane's substantial mansion in the market-place. with the exception of mr harwood and one or two others, they were relations of the family, or connected in some way or other. mrs deane received them in a cordial and hearty manner, showing, however, that she entertained a becoming sense of her own importance. the squire and alethea were evidently, from the style of their reception, amongst the most honoured. the lady of the mansion wore a tower of fine flemish lace on her head, to which that on her gown, of handsome paduasoy, exactly corresponded; and her general appearance was matronly and dignified. behind her, courtesying and smiling to the guests as they approached, stood two well-grown unmistakably english girls, their dresses ornamented with cherry-coloured ribbons, just then in fashion: the eldest, catherine, or kate, as she was called, a brunette, tall and slight, with a somewhat grave and retiring manner, and far more refined than her rosy-cheeked, merry-looking younger sister polly, who gave promise of some day growing into the goodly proportions of her mother. mr deane, with full wig, lace coat, and sword by his side, stood in the old oak hall, accompanied by his son jasper, ready to hand the ladies from their sedan-chairs as they were brought into the hall. the last to arrive, who was received with all due honour, was a dr nathaniel deane, a cousin of mr deane's, the only physician, and one of the greatest men, in nottingham. jack was the last to enter the house, and had but little time to slip into his room, and put on his grey dress suit, before dinner was announced. for a few minutes he was seen standing behind the door, unwilling to enter and go through the ordeal of paying his respects to the assembled guests, little more of him being observable besides a broad shoulder and a well-turned leg, with a red clock to his grey stocking. cousin nat--for so mr nathaniel deane was called by his relatives--soon however spied him out, and though at that moment tapping his jewelled snuff-box preparatory to offering it to mrs bethia harcourt, mrs deane's maiden aunt, he contrived directly afterwards to find himself close to jack, and to shake hands cordially with the young man, for whom he evidently had an especial regard. "well, jack, what scrape have you last got into, or out of rather, i should say?" said cousin nat, "for i am told it is seldom you have not something of the sort on hand. however, you do not look the worse for that or for your studies either, boy, though i should be glad to hear that you had determined to follow some steady pursuit, instead of running your head into other people's quarrels, without any benefit to yourself." "that is the very thing i have been thinking of," answered jack, as he returned his respected cousin's greeting, "but i have no fancy for sitting at a desk, nor for any other indoor work. jasper is more suited for that than i am." he glanced as he spoke towards the slight figure of his brother, who presented a considerable contrast to himself. the elder had handsome features, with a somewhat sickly hue in his countenance, such as is often produced by study and thought. his manner was refined, and the expression of his countenance denoted an amiable and gentle disposition. "we will not attempt to make an md of you, at all events," answered cousin nat. "perhaps you would rather take to breaking men's bones than attempting to cure them of their ailments, as i try to do, and as your brother jasper hopes to do also." "not especially," answered jack: "i should like to see the world, but i have not a fancy for knocking men on the head, and could never understand the amusement some people find in it; but i have no objection to stand up and defend my own if i am attacked, or to draw my sword in the defence of a friend or a right cause." dr nathaniel smiled at his young kinsman's remark. "you will not have to wait long then, lad, before you find sufficient excuse for drawing your sword, and fighting away with as hearty good-will as any of old noll's ironsides ever did." just at this juncture dinner was announced, and the guests being marshalled according to the strictest rules of precedence, took their places round the well-covered table, on which the summer's sun, flaring through the three tall windows, lighted up the goodly array of silver tankards and pewter dishes, and a great store of blue oriental china. mrs deane's duties were of no ordinary kind, every joint being placed before her in succession, that she might employ her well-skilled hands in carving it, the duty of passing the bottles in quick succession being left to the host at the foot of the table. the quiet, though far from retiring-mannered jasper had enjoyed the honour of handing down the fair alethea, and had dexterously managed to place himself by her side. jack, who sat opposite, observed that she listened attentively to his conversation, which, although he could not catch the substance of it, he saw was of an interesting character. dr nathaniel deane, however, took upon himself the entertainment of a larger portion of the guests, mrs deane occasionally keeping up the ball of conversation by a hearty joke and a jovial laugh, while mr deane, with more gravity of manner than his spouse, threw in a remark here and there as occasion required. nottingham was at this time, as its inhabitants asserted, the most genteel town in the midland counties, a distinction it owed in some measure to the noble palace, built by the duke of newcastle as his family residence, on the site of the old fortified castle that had been identified with nearly all the chief periods of english history, from the time of isabella and mortimer, who made it their stronghold, to that when cromwell, riding back towards london, the civil war being over, saw the greater part of the walls pulled down. on that occasion he told colonel hutchinson, who had so bravely defended those stout walls for the parliament, that he was heartily vexed at it. the colonel replied that he had procured it to be done, and believed it to be his duty to ease the people of charge when there was no more need for it. some of the tower? and walls, however, still stood conspicuous among the newer parts of the edifice with which they had been incorporated by the architect. in the market-place, as has been observed, there were a number of fine old mansions belonging to the country families who were accustomed to spend their winters in the town. there were also a good many other handsome places in the immediate neighbourhood. none, however, could be compared for beauty of situation with the castle which crowns the rock rising abruptly from the trent valley, with its stream at the bottom, which, after coming down from the yorkshire moors, finds its way through the midst of that vast forest district, with its heaths and leafy alleys, which was once all included under the name of sherwood forest. "well, neighbour deane, what news do you bring from the big city of london?" inquired mr samuel pinkstone, a most respected burgess of nottingham, during a pause in the conversation. "i am glad to see that you and master jasper have escaped all the dangers you had to encounter there and on your way back. they say that housebreakers are as thick there as gooseberries on a gooseberry-bush; and as for highwaymen, i wonder any stage escapes being robbed from the number of them, i am told, who throng the roads." "thank you, master pinkstone, we met with no accident of any sort or kind," answered mr deane. "i did not set eyes on the muzzle of a pistol either in london or on our way from it. some of the young rakes, who have not forgotten the pranks they played in the last king's reign, occasionally had a scuffle with the watch, and a few heads were broken now and then, but no brains were let out--for the best of reasons, that there were none within. it is proposed, however, to light the city, if our greenland whalers would but bring us oil enough; but unless they have a fortunate fishing season, there is but little chance of their doing that. i saw some odd sights in the city, i must say; and unless the ladies of quality mend their manners, i am afraid things will come to a pretty pass before long." "but as to public matters, neighbour," said mr pinkstone, "what about them? we do not hear much about them down here. what is our fleet about?" "we have as fine a fleet as ever sailed, under mr russell," answered mr deane. "all the year he has managed to keep master of the mediterranean, and has had the french fleet shut up within their ports, though contrary winds have prevented him making a descent on marseilles or at toulon, though he has had regiments of soldiers on board for that purpose. then we have another fleet in our channel, ready to bombard the french coast. they have destroyed gronville, and have made an attack upon dunkirk, but they failed in that, i am sorry to say. but the worst matter, however, is, that the marquis of carmarthen, with a squadron under him, which lay off the islands of scilly to protect our trade, fancying that a superior french fleet was coming out to attack him, when it was only a fleet of merchant-ships, left his station and retired into milford haven. this mistake has caused a great blow to our trade. many of the barbados ships have been taken by french cruisers, and two rich ships coming from the east indies have also been captured, besides which three other large ships have fallen into the hands of french privateers off the irish coast. all the city of london therefore complains that neither the admiralty nor the government take proper care to preserve the wealth of of the nation." "nor are they likely to do so," observed mr harwood in an under-tone to his next neighbour, "while we have men of the present stamp at the head of affairs. old england is going to rack and ruin, i see that very clearly, with all her new-fangled schemes and arrangements. they are yielding to the cry of the manufacturers, and are about to pass a law to put a stop to our free trade in wool and corn; and they will soon shut us up to our home markets, and not allow us to sell where we can get the best price abroad." mr harwood among country gentlemen was not singular in his opinions on that subject. the first course being removed, mrs deane folded her arms, to recover after the fatigue of carving for so many guests; no slight labour, considering the size of the joints which had been placed before her. now, the cloth being removed, and the dessert spread on the shining mahogany table, came the usual accompaniment of pipes and tobacco, which kate and polly deane had to prepare with their own pretty fingers for the use of the gentlemen. this being done, and small pieces of lighted charcoal being brought from the kitchen, wreaths of smoke began to ascend round the table. "there is an important toast to be proposed, neighbour deane, is there not?" said the worshipful mr pinkstone, turning to the host; "but that should be dr nathaniel's task, i opine, should it not?" "to be sure, certainly," said cousin nat, "i will gladly undertake the honour. our friends are generally aware of the object which has called us together this day. i have, then, the pleasure to announce that my kinsman, mr jasper deane, is about to enter into the profession of which i have, for so many years, been an unworthy member, and i trust that by devoting his mind to science, and his energies to the care of those who are placed under him, he may be the means of largely benefiting his fellow-creatures, which all will agree is the great object a physician should have in view. i have infinite satisfaction, therefore, in proposing the health of the future md, my young kinsman aforesaid, mr jasper deane." at the conclusion of dr nathaniel's short speech the guests rose to their feet, and all turned towards the young mr jasper, wishing him in succession health, happiness, and success in his proposed profession. he received the compliments paid to him with due modesty. his voice slightly trembling from nervousness, he returned thanks in a very neat and proper speech, which it is not necessary here to repeat. mr deane then rose, and filling his glass, did the same in his own name, and in that of his dame, for the honour paid to their son, and then drank to the health of all the guests present, beginning with the ladies, and taking mr harwood first among the gentlemen, expressing at the same time his gratitude to dr nathaniel for having undertaken to introduce his son into the noble profession to which he himself was so great an ornament. alethea watched the countenance of mr jasper as he was addressing his guests, and she probably remarked that it lighted up with far more expression and animation than a stranger who saw him under ordinary circumstances would have supposed it capable of exhibiting. "well, mr jack, and what profession do you intend following?" asked mr harwood across the table. "that depends upon circumstances, sir," said jack. "i have no fancy for sitting indoors all day, and driving a pen, nor any other pursuit that would keep me out of the fresh air. to say the truth, if i had a free choice, i would follow some calling which would let me see the world at large, and our own country in particular. last year, during the vacation, i took a trip with will brinsmead, mr strelley's head drover, as far as stourbridge, to the fair, and i never enjoyed any thing more in my life. i thought then, and i think now, that for a young man who likes being on horseback, and enjoys the free air of heaven, galloping across country, there is not a pleasanter sort of life. and it is not unprofitable either, if a man knows any thing about beasts, and where are the best pastures on which to put flesh on their bones. if my father and mother, therefore, have no objection, i have made up my mind to turn drover." most of the company expressed their surprise at this announcement, by their looks if not by their remarks. mr deane was evidently somewhat annoyed at the announcement his younger son had made. alethea especially looked at him across the table with surprise, while the colour mounted into his sister polly's cheeks, for though she had heard him express the same resolution, she little dreamed that he was in earnest in the matter, thinking that it was only a way of talking in which lads of his age were apt to indulge. "i should think, my lad, that you are fit for a higher walk in life than the one you have mentioned," said mr harwood across the table. "with a trusty sword by your side, and a hundred men at your orders, you would be more in your place, i suspect. there is plenty of work for gentlemen in these days, if not in old england, at all events out of it. there are many wrongs to be righted, and many good causes to be sustained. there are many i could tell you of who would willingly accept the offer of your sword." mrs deane looked highly pleased at the compliment mr harwood was paying her son, and thanked him with one of her beaming smiles, although cousin nat screwed up his lips in a peculiar manner and gave a significant look at jack. "thank you, sir," said jack, "but i have no fancy for offering my sword to any one out of the country, however high he may bid for it, or in using it, indeed, except in my own defence, or in that of my country. i do not see what is amiss in the life of a drover, such as i hope to be one of these days. it is no easy task, i should say, to drive three hundred head of cattle from the yorkshire hills down south, and i hope in time to deal on a large scale, like mr strelley, and other friends i know of." "well, well, master jack, you must take your own way," answered mr harwood, "or be guided by your honoured parents: we will have a talk another time about these matters." mr deane's lips had become considerably compressed while his son was speaking, and there was an hysterical cry from aunt bethia, whose great wish had always been to see her favourite jack figure in what she called good society. "you may quit the society of your equals, for which you have so little respect, jack," said his father in somewhat stern accents; "those you do not value will take little pains to keep you among them; but let me hear no more of this matter. now, friends," he continued, making an effort to recover his usual tone of voice, "fill the ladies' glasses, and keep the bottles moving among you. lads often talk nonsense when they fancy they are talking sense, and so may i beg you to forget what my son jack has just said? he will think better on the subject another day." "don't be too hard on the lad, cousin," said dr nathaniel, turning to the host. "it is a great thing, in my opinion, to get a young man to choose a profession for himself. there are too many men like jack who are not content unless they can mount a helmet and jackboots, and go about the world slaughtering their fellow-creatures without rhyme or reason, should they not find a good cause to fight for. so, jack, here's to your health, my boy, and success to you in whatever honest calling you determine to follow!" dr nathaniel's word was law in mr deane's family, as it was in several others in the town, and he therefore quickly succeeded in smoothing down the somewhat ruffled temper of different members of the family. other toasts and speeches followed, but the songs which were generally sung on such occasions were reserved for the supper, of which all the guests present were expected to partake, at a later hour of the day. the ladies then rising, gracefully sailed out of the room, while the gentlemen continued to pass the battle round for some time longer. it was still broad daylight, though the fresh air of evening was already blowing through the windows. mrs deane therefore proposed to her female guests that they should enjoy the breeze for a while on the castle terrace, which was the usual promenade of the gay world of nottingham, and there was a general call for hoods and gloves. the party of ladies, as they glided out of the house, precedence being given to the more elderly dames, took their way towards the castle, and passing through the grand gateway which had stood so many attacks, soon ascended the broad stone steps with massive balustrades which led in two flights to the noble terrace in front of the building. it was well paved with large flat stones, and with a breastwork of stone, and on the south side of the castle a convenient arcade, where in rainy or hot weather the gentry of the town could walk under shelter. on that beautiful summer's evening, however, the ladies required only their green fans to protect their eyes from the almost level rays of the setting sun, which fans the young ones occasionally found useful for other purposes--either to hide their faces from an unwelcome admirer, or to beckon a too timid one, perchance. the park with its three long avenues lay before them, and the steep declivities which ran down from it to the river leen were covered with woods, broken here by some old tower which had withstood all attempts at its demolition, and there by a jutting mass of grey rock, looking scarcely more solid than the rock-like masonry of the tower. the new building had only been finished the year jack was born, as mrs deane was in the habit of telling any friends who came to visit her for the first time at nottingham. it was built in the italian style of architecture, with a fine double flight of steps to the principal entrance, over which was an equestrian alto-relievo of charles the second. the flat roofs were surrounded by balustrades, and the spaces between the long terrace of windows were filled up with architraves and entablatures, which produced a rich and picturesque though somewhat heavy effect. on one side the view ranged over the town, with its fine churches, and the distant sweeps of sherwood forest, and the nearer woods of colwick park. on the other side lay a rich and varied expanse of country, with the silvery trent winding through the valley, and round many a bold and thickly wooded promontory; while the hills of derbyshire and leicestershire formed a beautiful background to the peaceful and smiling landscape. kate and polly deane, with alethea harwood, after taking a turn or two, sat down on one of the stone benches on the terrace. this was the first moment that they had had the opportunity of speaking together on the subject of jack's determination to leave home, though neither alethea nor kate could believe he really purposed following the calling of a drover. polly, who knew him better, was not so sure on the subject. he had often described to her in glowing language the life which he proposed to lead, and she could not help sympathising with him in that as in most other matters in which he took an interest. "but surely he is formed for better things than that," observed alethea, and polly thought she saw a slight blush rise on the cheek of her friend. "he would never consent to associate with the rude, rough men which drovers surely must be, even though he might meet occasionally with the adventures you describe," she exclaimed. "oh! but he intends not only to be a drover, but a grazier; and that, he tells me, is a sure road to wealth and independence," observed polly. "here he comes to answer for himself," said kate, and the young ladies, looking up, saw jack advancing towards them, and presenting a very becoming appearance in his grey suit, with his hair brushed as smoothly back from his smooth open forehead as its curly nature would admit of, and his hat in his hand, a fashion he gladly adopted, to avoid the necessity of constantly removing it as he passed his numerous acquaintances. polly's affectionate little heart bounded at seeing many friendly glances thrown at him, and she whispered to kate, in a tone which alethea overheard, "he does not look as if we need ever be ashamed of him, after all." "if he follows the life he proposes, he will never wear a sword like a gentleman," observed kate. "he is tolerably well able, i should say, to defend himself without one," observed alethea, "from the specimen he gave us of his prowess this afternoon," and she described the scene which had occurred on their entering the town, when jack had so bravely taken the part of the poor widow's cow. while she was speaking, jack himself came up to them. the sisters immediately attacked him on the subject, and alethea inquired whether he had driven back the animal to widow pitt's paddock. "oh, yes!" he answered; "but i should have had a far better appetite for dinner, had i been able to find the fellows who had been so cruelly baiting her. however, they will not manage to escape me altogether, i'll warrant; but, as you know, i do not expect to remain here much longer, now that i have finished my course at the grammar school. they will be for sending me to college if i do, and that i could never brook. but before i go, i must come and pay you a visit at harwood grange, mistress alethea." "we shall always be glad to see you," said the young lady, looking up with a bright glance at jack's honest countenance. "here comes my father to say the same." "yes, indeed we shall, jack," said mr harwood, who came up at that moment. "i may be able to give you some useful introductions, when i hear where you are going. i have many friends scattered about the country, north and south." "and you will not mind introducing me," asked jack with kindling eye, "though i follow the calling of what kate calls a poor, miserable drover?" "oh, no, no!" answered the squire, "not if you always show the spirit you did this afternoon, and that i am sure you will wherever you go, or whatever calling you follow." here he took jack's hand, and pressed it kindly in presence of the various people of fashion who were walking up and down the terrace. mrs deane observed the action, and seemed well pleased with the attention paid her younger son. taking somewhat after herself, he was, it must be confessed, her favourite. the sun was now sinking over the distant hills, and as the mist began to rise from the river below, the parties on the terrace gradually dispersed, the deane family and their friends returning to their mansion, where they assembled once more round their well-spread board, at eight o'clock precisely, the fashionable hour for supper. jack, in better spirits than he had been in the afternoon, joined the family party. songs were sung, and numerous stories told by dr nathaniel, mr pinkstone, and other acknowledged wits of the party. ere ten o'clock had struck, the whole party retired to their chambers, our forefathers being of opinion that early to bed and early rising was far more conducive to health than the late hours adopted by the present generation. chapter three. a poaching expedition to colwick park--jack forms an acquaintance who leads him into difficulties. as soon as the party broke up, jack hurried to his room, and very contrary to his usual custom threw himself into a chair, and unconsciously pressing his hand on his brow, rested his elbow on the little oak table which stood by his bedside. the way in which the walls were adorned showed the tastes of the occupant of the chamber. the most honoured ornament was a fowling-piece with a curious lock lately invented, the gift of cousin nat, and which had superseded the stout cross-bow hanging beneath it. one wall was devoted to fishing-rods, tackle, and nets. among them was a rod of which izaak walton, that great professor of the gentle art, had himself spoken approvingly when once, while fishing in the silvery trent, he had seen it flourished in cousin nat's hands. there were two sets of foils with masks and gloves, and several cudgels with strange knots and devices, cut from ancient trees in sherwood forest, beneath whose once wide-spreading boughs certain feats of the renowned robin hood were said to have been performed. in one and all the tales relating to the exploits of the bold outlaw, it is scarcely necessary to say that jack put the most implicit faith, and would have been highly indignant had any one ventured to doubt their authenticity or correctness. in one corner of the room stood a book-case, a very unpretending piece of furniture in itself, but it contained every ballad jack believed to have been written, or at all events on which he could lay hold, connected with robin hood. it contained however other tomes: besides several schoolbooks, their dark covers sadly battered, and their leaves inked, dog's-eared, and torn, there were kind izaak walton's "complete angler," highly prized by jack; foxe's "book of martyrs," presented to him by aunt bethia; and a work he valued more than all the others--purchas's "travels:" and often and often as he conned these pages he longed to be able to visit the strange countries and to go through the wonderful adventures therein described. the fact was that jack had a very good head on his shoulders, and had he broken his leg, or met with any other accident which would have confined him to the house, he would have taken very readily to reading. in his case his physical powers demanded more exercise than his mental, whereas in the case of his brother jasper his mental activity preponderated over his mere animal spirits. jack required a tether to keep him within bounds, jasper a spur to make him move fast enough to keep up with the times. yet in most respects the elder was superior to the younger brother--cast in a finer mould, with keener sensibilities, a gentler heart, and more moral if not physical courage. jack had, however, many good qualities, but many of his doings were not such as deserved imitation. such book knowledge as he possessed he had obtained at the nottingham grammar school, where, as was the case at other places of education of the same character, boys were allowed to pick up what they chose, and if not inclined to learn, no great effort was made to instruct them. jack had therefore run wild, and had done many things for which he had cause to be sorry, and had sometimes even got into trouble about them. he had not, however, even yet learned wisdom. his character was, however, to be developed, and may probably be so in the following pages. "i would do any thing to please her," he said to himself. "i do not think she would like to know the work i have promised to engage in to-night, and yet how am i to be off it? i know myself it is not right, but i gave my word to those fellows, and ought i to break it? i do not like the forest laws, but they are laws notwithstanding, and it behoves honest men to obey them--there's the rub. how i did not come to think of that before, i don't know. perhaps alethea put it into my head; and yet she did not speak very approvingly of the king and the parliament, so i suppose she would not much object to my breaking the laws which they have formed. still she would not like to see me placed in the pillory, and that would be my fate if i was caught poaching--there's no use mincing the matter, that's the word. but i was never frightened at any thing, and i am not going to be frightened at that. i gave my word, and i must stick to my word." saying this, jack started up, and began to throw aside his holiday suit. instead, he donned his roughest clothes, took down the fishing-boots from the wall, filled his pockets with tackle, and threw a landing-net over his shoulder. thus prepared, with a slouched hat that concealed his features, he gently opened the window, and by means of a leaden water-spout, and a pear-tree growing up the wall under his window, slipped noiselessly to the ground. he quickly scaled the garden wall, and took his way down a narrow lane winding between tall and irregular houses, till he reached the side of the narrow river leen, which, sweeping by the foot of the castle hill, ultimately falls into the trent. he was soon clear of all the buildings, when, stopping under a tall hedge-row which ran down to the stream, a low whistle reached his ears. "that is smedley," he said to himself. "well, i will fulfil my promise, and then break with these fellows for good." he whistled in return, in the same manner, and immediately a youth of about his own age stepped out from the shelter of a hedge. "well, jack, i am glad you have come at last," said smedley; "it's growing late, and the other fellows will be waiting for us down the stream." "where is the boat?" asked jack. "i promised to go with you to-night, and i am not the man to break my word; but just let me tell you, tom, once for all, i am determined that this shall be the last time." "don't say that, jack," answered smedley: "we cannot afford to lose you. we want a good leader in all our work, and you are just the man for us. as for the boat, she is down by the edge of colwick causeway, under the bushes; and ned bligh has got mufflers for the oars, and all ready; so come with us now, and don't be bothering your head about the future." the young men were soon walking along the sward of colwick park, with the great trees throwing their shadows across it, when the moon, often hidden by clouds, came out, and cast its light upon them. sometimes also it showed groups of cattle lying down sleeping, or lazily chewing the cud, among the sweet herbage of the river's side. no other living creature was in sight, so that jack and his companion were not afraid of talking in their usual tone of voice. they kept, however, well under the shade of the trees. "those are some of mr strelley's beasts, i believe," said jack: "a fine lot they are, too; they will soon be off towards cambridge, and bring a good round sum at stourbridge fair. i wish i had the driving of them; and i should not mind the selling, either!" "are they the highland cattle which will brinsmead bought for him at saint faith's?" asked a voice, so close to the two speakers that they both started. "come out into the moonlight, friend," said jack, boldly; "i don't answer questions to a man that keeps out of sight." the stranger stepped out from beneath the shadow of a row of beech-trees which grew on the bank close to the path which jack and his companion were following. he was a broad-set countryman in appearance, habited in a well-worn but strong riding-suit, with leather leggings, a horseman's jackboots, and a broad leathern belt, in which jack's quick eye caught sight of a pistol-barrel. he seemed considerably entertained by jack's challenge, and repeated his question with great good-humour, in an unmistakable yorkshire accent. "you perhaps know as much as i do about the beasts," answered jack. "some of them are scotch, and well fed on these rich water-meadows, till they are nearly as valuable as the leicestershire breed. i see a few down there which are real herefordshire, too. and now may i ask who you are?" "well, a fair answer deserves another in return. i am a yorkshire cattle-dealer, at your service, just passing through nottingham, and i walked out here to see if there was any thing likely to suit me, in case i chose to make a bargain to-morrow morning. i must be early on the road to derby. i hope you are satisfied, young man. and now let me ask you what game you are after?" "to be honest with you, we came out to catch a salmon or two," answered jack. "there are some fine ones now and then down the stream a little way, though it is not often salmon come so far up the river. we shall have a boat here, which will carry us close up to the weir." "ah! i like that sort of thing!" said the yorkshireman; "i have seen a good bit of such sport in my time. what now if i were to lend you a hand? with the leister we would soon have a fine one that way, and if we had a lantern ready, we might take a few by `sunning' besides." "oh, yes! we shall be glad for you to come," answered smedley, before jack could say any thing. "i should like above all things to see fish sunned." "well, then," answered the yorkshireman, "you and your friend here must give me your word to forget, if ever you should see me again, that you met me this night. on that condition i will show you some north-country sport--on that alone, mind. you," he added, turning to jack, "for i can trust you by the tone of your voice, must answer for your friends in the boat." "oh, yes! i will answer for them as i would for myself," said jack, who, forgetting his former good resolutions, was almost as eager as smedley to witness the new style of sport which the stranger promised them. just then the boat of which they had been talking came stealthily in sight, rowed by two other lads, much of the same age as jack and his friend. the latter with the yorkshireman quickly stepped into her, when without loss of time the boat glided again down the stream. "this is a friend we have picked up, who is going to show us some sport, bligh," said smedley in a low tone of voice. "we can trust him, and he knows that he can trust us; so it is all right." in a short time they entered the trent, and quickly arrived at the weir, which was formed by large stones roughly laid together, so as to throw the water into a broad cascade, as it came tumbling over it to the lower reach of the river. smedley was more inclined to be talkative than jack or the other lads in the boat. "what are we to call you, master?" he asked of the stranger. "call me master pearson; that is a good midland-county name enough," he said with a low laugh. "you have not got a leister in the boat, have you? i have an idea, from the look of the place, that if i had one, i could catch you a salmon quicker than by any other way." the leister of which master pearson spoke is a three-pronged fork used for spearing fish. "no," answered smedley; "none of us are good hands at using such a thing." "well, just pull in here to the bank, and i will see if i cannot get a stick which will answer the purpose," answered master pearson. without having to search long, he found a stake which had been driven into the stream to prevent drawing nets across it. the stick apparently suiting his fancy, with a piece of wire, with great dexterity, he in a short time manufactured a pronged harpoon. balancing it in his hand, he seemed satisfied with his performance. sitting down in the boat, he next took off his boots and long-skirted great coat, which he deposited on the seat, and then, tucking up his ample trousers, waded up to the weir, while the boat was still rocking some distance from it. jack followed close behind him, and with delight saw a noble salmon glistening now and then in the straggling moonlight, and playing securely in the shallow water, but ready to dart out into the deeper part of the stream at the slightest sound. in another instant a crimson bubble came up to the surface of the water, showing with how unerring a hand the clumsy-looking weapon manufactured by master pearson had been struck home. at a signal the rest of the party came up to him to carry off their prize, while he continued looking about for another. they felt inclined to be rather annoyed at the ease with which the stranger had captured a fish which they would have thought it impossible to kill in the same way. smedley at that moment declared that he heard sounds in the distance, which made him fear that the keepers were coming through the wood. "if we are not off we shall be getting into trouble," he sung out. "hoot, mon!" cried master pearson, loud enough to be heard through the brawling of the weir; "you have time enough to learn how to strike a `sawmon;' but come, i will show you another trick, since we have joined company for the night." saying this, he returned to the boat, and, putting on his coat and boots, produced a small lantern from his capacious horseman's pocket. with a flint and steel it was lighted, when, leaning over the side of the boat, he slowly moved the light along the surface of the water. "now stand by with your nets," he answered, "and you will soon pull up enough fish for your suppers." as he spoke, the lads saw a number of small fish attracted by the light to the surface of the water; and, following his advice, in a short time a considerable quantity were caught. "this is not proper sunning," he observed: "if i had had such a lantern as we use in the north, we should have caught far larger fish. it should be made watertight, and then, when lowered down close to the net, the fish are so eager to come and see the cause of the brightness, thinking, maybe, that the sun has come down to pay them a visit, that they swim right against the net, and are caught in great numbers. that is what we call sunning in the north." "i heard a voice!" exclaimed smedley, as master pearson ceased speaking. "there!--there again! it's the keepers as sure as we are living men!" "hold your tongue!" exclaimed master pearson somewhat sharply. "here, give me the oars; we will soon distance the keepers, if so be that they are coming this way. you're right, i believe, though." taking the oars in his hands, he sent the boat through the water at a rate she had seldom moved before. the noise of the oars attracted the keepers, who rushed down to the water just in time to see the boat turning a reach of the river. they hurried along the bank for some distance, shouting to those in her to stop--an order not very likely to be obeyed. so vigorously did pearson ply the oars, that there seemed every probability of the boat escaping its pursuers. still the latter continued to chase along the banks. "you must take the consequences, then," exclaimed a voice, and directly afterwards a shot whistled over their heads. the lads crouched down in the boat, with the exception of jack, who followed pearson's example in sitting still. "a miss is as good as a mile," observed the latter coolly. "they must be good marksmen to hit us at the rate we are going in this uncertain light. now, if i was minded, i might return the compliment with one of my long pistols, and maybe they would wish i was farther off." "what do you carry pistols for?" asked jack in a tone of surprise. "never you mind, young man," replied pearson, in a different style of voice to that which he had hitherto spoken. "if i spoke of pistols, maybe i was joking: you understand me?" all this time he was vigorously rowing away, edging the boat off to the other side of the bank to that on which the keepers were following. in a short time they reached the shade of some tall trees which overhung the stream, and here the boat was completely hid from sight. "a few more strokes, and there is little danger of their finding us," observed the stranger; and now once more they entered the mouth of the little river leen, up which he turned the boat's head. "we have now to pull against the current," he observed, "and my advice is to land and leave the boat to look after herself." "the best thing we can do," answered jack, and a few strokes brought the boat to a spot where they could easily leap on shore. "don't leave your fish behind you, lads, or your tackle either. if you leave one, you will lose your suppers; and if you leave the other, you will be very likely to be discovered. now, lads, you take your way, and i'll take mine, only just remember your promise. i consider it as good as an oath, and any man who breaks his oath to me will have cause to repent it. now, good night to you all." having bid the stranger farewell, smedley and the other two lads took their way along the banks of the river, in the direction of some dilapidated sheds, where they had arranged to meet and enjoy, according to their own fashion, their hard-won supper. the stranger lounged away across the bridge at some little distance from the sheds, while jack, anxious to get home, hurried off in the direction of the market-place. "i was wrong to go," said jack to himself. "suppose one of us had been shot, it would have been paying very dear for our night's sport. such doings might be easily overlooked in a boy, but i am one no longer. i feel that. i claim to be a man, and as a man i must act. i hope there is work for me to do in the world of some sort, and the sooner i begin it the better, and put aside all my boyish pranks." "a good resolution," said a voice behind him. jack was not aware he had been speaking aloud. "i followed you, because i want to have a word more with you," said the speaker, in whom jack at once recognised his late companion, master pearson. "there's mettle in you of the right sort," continued the stranger. "what say you? would you like to join a band of brave fellows who have a right good cause to fight for?" he whispered in a low voice. "there's honour and distinction to be gained, and a name, maybe, and wealth in the end. it is what most men fight for, and i take it that you would not be less ready than others to use your sword for such an object." "i am much obliged to you for the compliment you pay me," answered jack, "and for the good opinion you have formed of my courage; but i have no great fancy for undertaking what i know nothing about. men do not always agree as to the goodness of a cause, and what you may consider a good cause, you will pardon me for saying it, i may consider a bad one." "a very discreet answer," observed master pearson, "and i think all the better of you for making it. well, i will not press you just now. i have no doubt we shall meet again before long, and though i cannot tell you where to find me, i have a fancy that i shall have no great difficulty in putting my finger upon you at any time. so farewell, master john deane: you see i know you, and moreover i wish you well." saying this, the stranger wrung jack's hand cordially. still he lingered, rather unwilling perhaps to let the young man go without making a more favourable impression. "it is a good cause and a right cause which i invite you to join. i must not explain it more to you just now, but just think the matter over; and stay, it's just possible i shall remain in nottingham all to-morrow. will you meet me in the evening as soon as it is dusk, down by the bank of the river, where you fell in with me just now? i will explain matters more fully to you then." jack did not answer for a minute or more. "i must think of it," he said at last. "you may be a very honest man, mr pearson, and your intentions towards me perhaps are fair, but i tell you again, i have no fancy to take a leap in the dark. i have a plan in view myself, and i would rather carry that out than try any other. you have wished me farewell to-night already, and now i will wish you the same, and leave you." saying this, jack took the stranger's proffered hand, and shaking it, hurried off in the direction in which he was previously going. master pearson looked after him for an instant, and nodding his head, said to himself, "he is an honest lad as well as a brave one, and may be made of use if i can get a bridle into his mouth." chapter four. fire near mr strelley's warehouse--jack deane shows that he is a lad of courage. jack soon again scaled the garden wall, and stood under his bedroom window. he had left it wide open; it was now almost closed. the old pear-tree nailed against the wall enabled him to climb up a considerable distance, so as to reach the window-sill, by which he could haul himself up, and get into his room. "probably the wind has blown it to," he said to himself. "i hope no one has found out my absence." climbing up, he gently pushed back the window. on looking in, what was his dismay to see his father seated in the chair by the table, with a candle now almost burned out, and a book, from which he had evidently been reading, before him! his eyes were however closed, and he was nodding, fast asleep. jack was a man of action, and always more ready to face a danger than to avoid it. he crawled in, therefore, as noiselessly as he could, and sat himself down on a chest at the farther end of the room, waiting for his father to awake. jack did not trouble himself much as to what he should say, planning, and inventing, and twisting, and turning the truth in all sorts of ways, or inventing all sorts of falsehoods, but, like an honest man, he determined to tell the whole truth openly and frankly at once, and so brave the worst, and take the consequences of what he had done, whatever they might be. in fact, so little agitated was he at the thoughts of what he had to go through, and being moreover excessively tired, for he had been up and actively engaged all day, that he soon became drowsy, and imitating his respected father, began to nod much in the fashion he was doing. in a short time jack was fast asleep. he was not very comfortable though, for he had an unpleasant sort of feeling, which was carried into his dreams, that all was not right, and that something very disagreeable was about to occur. how long he had slept he could not tell, but suddenly he was awoke by a bright glare which passed across his face, and starting up he saw flames issuing from the sheds by the side of the river, in which his late companions had proposed to enjoy their supper. he started to his feet, and remembering that mr strelley's great wool warehouse was near the sheds, as well as a number of cottages thatched with straw, belonging to the people employed on the river, he dreaded that a very considerable conflagration might be the consequence. jack sprang to the window. "i beg your pardon, sir," he exclaimed in a voice loud enough to awake his father; "i am sorry to rouse you up, but there's a fire near mr strelley's warehouse, and i must be off to try and get it put out. i hope it has not caught any of the premises yet; but pray call up some of our neighbours, there's not a moment to be lost!" "where! where! what's the matter?" exclaimed mr deane, starting. "why, jack, what have you been about?" jack repeated what he had just said; and before his father had time to make any answer, he had leaped out of the window and across the garden, and down the lane by which he had previously gone. as he ran through the narrow streets, he every now and then shouted, "fire! fire!" by the time he had reached the sheds, they were blazing furiously. the wind had also carried some sparks to an outhouse nearer the cottages, and already the people were running to and fro; women with babies in their arms, roused out of their sleep, rushing from the doors, and boys hallooing and men shouting, and yet none doing any thing to stop the progress of the flames. jack, seeing that unless some one took the lead all the neighbouring buildings might catch fire, shouted out, "form a line, my lads, down to the river, and you women bring your `pancheons,' pails, kettles, any thing that will hold water; and now, lads, pass them along, and we will soon put out this fire. now, you lads, tear away the burning dry thatch from the tops of those cottages; never mind a little singeing. you won't have a house standing in the place if you don't look sharp about it!" jack, as he spoke, set an example, by doing himself as he directed others to do. as soon as the people saw what was necessary to be done to stop the progress of the flames, they worked willingly enough. jack leaped up to the top of a wall, and having buckets passed to him, threw the water over the burning roof. several of the most active of the men did the same, while the women and children passed the buckets along with considerable rapidity. it was very doubtful, however, whether their efforts would avail in checking the progress of the fire. jack continued to encourage them with shouts and cheers, and by this time many more people having arrived with buckets, he began to hope that his efforts would not be without success. the shed in which the fire had originated, and two or three hovels, had already been burned down, while the outbuilding which communicated with the warehouse was already in flames: on this, therefore, jack now directed the people to bestow all their efforts. a loud cheer at length announced to those who were arriving on the spot, the owner of the warehouse among them, that jack's efforts had been crowned with success, and that the fire was extinguished. jack, with his hands blackened and burned, and his clothes and hair singed, was now called for by the crowd, and before he was well aware what they were about to do, he found himself seated in a chair, and carried home in triumph, just at the break of the early summer morning. jack, however, was more burned and injured than he had at first supposed; so much so, that his father forbore making any remark on his absence during the night. on awaking a few hours afterwards--for he had been immediately put into his bed, and doctored by the careful hands of his mother and sister kate--he found dr nathaniel deane seated by his side. the latter having felt his pulse, and complimented him on his achievements, "no, no, cousin nat," he answered; "if you knew all, you would not praise me. i have acted like an idiot, or worse than an idiot." "i am glad to find that no great harm has been done except to your poor hands, my lad. it will be a fortnight, or nearly so, before you will be able to use them," answered the doctor. "you will have time to stay quiet and get wisdom, if that is what you want." one of jack's first visitors was mr strelley. "i have come to thank you, mr john deane, for saving my property," he said, as he took his seat by his side. "you have not only benefited me very greatly, but i can scarcely tell you how many poor families would have been thrown out of work if my factory had been destroyed." jack of course made a suitable answer. "i just did what i saw ought to be done," said jack. "really, mr strelley, i do not think you have anything to thank me for." "there may be two opinions even on a matter of that sort," answered the manufacturer; "and, at all events, i wish you would tell me how i can best serve you. i wish to do it for your father's sake, as well as for your own. we are old friends, you know; so do not stand on ceremony, at all events." the occurrence of the night had made jack more than ever anxious to leave home for a time; for he felt that even should his father not question him as to the cause of his absence during it, he was bound to tell him. he therefore explained fully to mr strelley what were his wishes with regard to becoming a cattle-dealer and drover. "if you really have made up your mind on the subject, i will most gladly forward your views," said mr strelley. "you know my trusty old head drover, will brinsmead, as you took an excursion with him last year, i rather think. he will start in a few days in charge of a large drove now grazing in colwick park and adjoining meadows, and dispose of them at stourbridge fair. with the price he obtains he is to buy scotch cattle at saint faith's, near norwich; for, as you know, the highland drovers bring their lean beasts to that place. i have a correspondent at norwich, my old friend mr gournay, the manufacturer, and several merchants; and brinsmead will have to transact some business with them. now you could not do better than serve your apprenticeship under him, and act as his clerk. you will learn in that way how to do business on a large scale, and that, i take it, will be your aim as a young man of spirit. you would not be long content to follow at the tails of oxen, and keep them moving on the straight road." "the very thing above all things i should like," exclaimed jack. "i hope my cousin nat will get my hands all to rights in a few days; and however my father might have objected to my starting with strangers, i am nearly sure he will agree to the plan you so kindly propose." mr strelley's offer was duly placed before mr deane. "if jack remains much longer idle at home, he will be getting into mischief, if he has not got into it already," he thought to himself. "i have no reason to be ashamed of my boy, and perhaps it will be my own fault if i have cause to be at any future time. cousin nat is a man of judgment, and he asserts always that there is more in jack than any of us suppose; and that if we allow him to follow the bent of his own inclinations, he will be sure to work his way up in the world, even though we let him begin at the bottom of the ladder. some people want help, and don't get on well without it; others are all the better for being left alone, and help only makes them idle." the assurance which jack received that he would be allowed at length to carry out his much-cherished plan, contributed not a little to his restoration, and the burns on his hands and legs healed more rapidly than cousin nat had predicted. squire harwood and his daughter had returned to the grange the day after the occurrence which has been narrated; and as soon as jack was able to leave the house, although not fit for a journey, he expressed his intention of riding over to pay a farewell visit to his friends. often when left in solitude he had conjured up a vision of the sweet countenance of alethea, and he could not help longing once more to see the reality. his proposal met with every encouragement from his family. "if any body can civilise our boy jack, miss harwood can," observed mrs deane to her husband. "i doubt whether she will think it worth while to make the attempt," observed mr deane. "jack is in no way suited to her, whatever he may flatter himself is the case. however, let the lad go; he can come to no harm, at all events; and mistress alethea may give him a taste for better society than he seems to have a fancy for." chapter five. jack's visit to harwood grange--is urged to assist in the jacobite plot. jack accordingly donned his best suit, and his sister polly put his hair, which had been considerably singed by the fire, in as good order as it was capable of. his left hand was still in a sling, but he had no difficulty in mounting his horse with the aid of his right, and managing him as well as most people could with two hands at liberty. with a note from his father on business, and numerous messages from his mother and sisters, he set out on his expedition. he rode merrily along through the green wood, often indulging in daydreams, which, had he known more of the world, he might have suspected that there was little probability of being realised. the fair alethea formed a prominent feature in most of them. cousin nat had charged him not to heat his blood by galloping, lest it might retard his recovery; but when he came to the commencement of a fine open glade, it was hard to restrain either the horse or his own feelings, and more than once he found himself flying over the ground as fast as he would have done had a pack of hounds been before him in full chase of a deer. in a shorter time than he had calculated on, therefore, he arrived at the front of harwood grange. it was a mansion built in the time of elizabeth, with high roof and pointed gables, richly ornamented with the arms of the family, deeply carved in stone, over the principal entrance. it had no moat nor other means of defence having originally been a hunting-lodge. it was also out of the highway, and had thus escaped being turned into a fortress, and suffering the fate of many mansions throughout england during the wars between the "cavaliers" and the "roundheads." it was of considerable size, the outbuildings affording ample accommodation for horses and dogs. both the squire and his daughter were at home, and had seen him approach as he rode up the avenue. he received a cordial welcome from the squire in the old hall, into which the entrance-door opened. it was hung round with the usual trophies of the chase, hunting-poles, boar-spears, deer-horns, old cross-bows, and modern fire-arms, as well as curious pieces of ancient armour, which had done good service when worn by his father and his retainers in the time of the first charles, under whose banner the family had ranged themselves. in the corner stood whole suits of armour, placed on lay figures, while on a table at the farther end lay hawk's jesses, and hoods, and bells, and other apparatus of the gentle sport of heronry. a long massive oak table, with a side board of the same wood and style of construction, and numerous high-backed chairs, completed the furniture of the room, while at the inner end was a huge fire-place, with a mantel-piece high above it, and carved oak seats on either side. the hall was used generally for banquets and other entertainments; smaller rooms leading off it were more usually occupied by the family. alethea had followed her father into the hall to welcome jack, which she did in as cordial a manner as he could have desired, though the perfect self-possession she exhibited, and the total want of timidity, might have created some uncomfortable doubts in the mind of a person better acquainted with the female heart than jack could have been. the squire insisted on jack's remaining to dine with them at the usual hour of noon, telling him that he had a good deal to talk about, and if he still proposed setting off on the journey he had spoken of, he would entrust him with several letters to be delivered on the road. while the squire went to write his letters--a task which, although they were not very long, took him a considerable time--jack was left to the society of alethea. he was more inclined to be sentimental than he had ever been before in his life; but she seemed in such good spirits, and laughed so heartily at some of the remarks he made, that he very soon returned to his natural manners. she seemed, indeed, more anxious to persuade him that the jacobite cause was the right one, than to attempt to induce him to give up his proposed journey. now she praised the late king, and his energy, and the numerous good qualities which she declared he possessed; and now she did her best to lower william in jack's opinion. "such a king as he is!" she exclaimed: "his manners are positively repulsive, and he has no love for the fine arts: why they say that he hates `bainting and boetry,' as he calls them; and when they have brought him poor diseased children to be touched for the king's evil, as used to be done by the royal stuarts, he absolutely refused to put his hand upon them. now, you know, if he really had been a king, his touch would most certainly have cured them." "that never struck me before," answered jack; "but i know when i have read accounts of his various actions, i have often thought that he was like a great hero: i am sure he was at the battle of the boyne. have you never read an account of it? i found one only the other day in an old `news-letter,' i think it was, or it might have been in the `post-boy,' or the `flying post' the tide was running fast in the river, and the king's charger had been forced to swim, and then was almost lost in the mud. as soon, however, as the king reached firm ground, taking his sword in his left hand--for his right arm was still stiff with a wound and the bandage round it--he led his men to the spot where the fight was the hottest. the irish horse retired, fighting obstinately. in the midst of the tumult of pistols flashing and swords cutting in all directions, william rode up to the gallant enniskilleners. "`what will you do for me?' he cried out; but not being immediately recognised, a trooper, taking him for an enemy, was about to fire. "`what!' said he, `do you not know your friends?' "`it's his majesty!' exclaimed the colonel of the regiment. "on hearing this, a loud shout of joy burst from the men, who were all protestant yeomen. "`gentlemen!' said william, `you shall be my guards to-day. i have heard much of you; let us now see something of each other, and what we can do.' "with this he led them forward against the enemy, who at length took to flight, and in a short time there was no doubt that the battle was won. "since i have read that account, i have always looked upon the king as a real hero." "as a mere fighter or a leader of men in battle, he may not be contemptible," answered the young lady, not quite liking jack's remarks; "but, for my part, i should prefer acknowledging the sovereign `who is every inch a king,' as william shakspeare says." "i have never read any of shakspeare's plays, or seen them acted either; but of one thing i am very sure, that king william would not allow such doings as have been long taking place in france, and which james stuart would ere long have imitated. just think, miss harwood, of the way the poor protestants are treated there. if they refuse to turn romanists, they are persecuted in every possible manner. the roughest soldiers are quartered in their houses, and allowed to treat them as they think fit. the ministers are driven from the country, and if any huguenot gentlemen are captured attempting to make their escape, they are sent to the galleys, and have there to row on board those vessels, chained to the oar like slaves. had king james remained in the country, there is no saying whether he might not have treated us protestants in the same way." alethea was a little disconcerted at jack's matter-of-fact view of the stuart cause. "but then, you know," she exclaimed, "james was the rightful sovereign; you cannot deny that." "my father says that both his father, king charles the first, and he broke their vows; and that, had they proved faithful to the people, the people would have proved faithful to them. we none of us believe it was right to cut off king charles's head; but when it was very evident that james wished to make himself a despot, and to introduce the romish faith again, we all think it was quite right that he should have been dismissed from the country." "oh, you are a dreadful roundhead!" answered alethea, in a half-vexed tone, though she laughed at the same time. "i am afraid we shall never convert you to our principles; and yet, if you come to view the matter in the light we do, you may see that king james has right on his side." alethea then entered into arguments in favour of king james, more fully than is necessary here, and which it might weary the reader to repeat. sometimes, indeed, so well did she argue her cause, that jack was inclined to agree with her. then again remembering the opinions which he had heard his father and cousin nat express, he thought the present state of things was satisfactory. however, in the end alethea contrived to leave him very much in doubt about the matter, and certainly at that moment, if she had put a sword in his hand, and told him that king james was coming back, and that he must go and fight under his banner, he would very probably have obeyed her orders. the dinner hour at length arrived, when mr harwood returned with several letters in his hand. the squire treated him with every kindness and attention, as the son of an old friend, and did not in any way allude to the subject on which his daughter had been so energetically expatiating. a stranger coming in would not have heard any thing to make him suppose that the owner of harwood grange was one of the greatest jacobites in that part of the country. "remember," said alethea, as jack's horse was brought round to the front door, and he was about to mount, "i shall expect to hear that my arguments have had due effect, and that you will be ready to drink the health of the king over the water, whenever you hear it proposed." he gallantly kissed the fair hand held out to him; and receiving a hearty shake from that of the squire, he mounted his horse and took his way towards nottingham. he returned at a much slower pace than he had come. a variety of thoughts and feelings troubled his head and his heart. he thought alethea the most beautiful creature he had ever set eyes on. he wished to please her in every way in his power. if she had desired him to give up his intention of accompanying will brinsmead, he would have done so, or he would even have gone to college, and tried to study like his brother, if she had desired it; but she had not intimated a wish on either of these subjects, and seemed perfectly content that he should follow out his own inclinations. and yet she evidently desired to influence him in some way, and that was what most puzzled him. he had always heard william spoken of as the best king for england, and james as a man likely to prove an opponent of religious liberty and of the advancement and prosperity of the country. he was even more than usually silent when he reached home, and polly had to stir him up before he would give any account of his visit to the grange. he, however, said nothing on the subject which alethea had discussed with him. a few days after this, having been declared perfectly convalescent, jack set off to pay his respects to mr strelley, and to receive that gentleman's last orders. as he approached the door, he saw cousin nat's scarlet cloak a little ahead of him. he soon overtook the worthy doctor. "well, jack, i am glad to find you," said his cousin: "i want to have a few words with you before you start, and there's no opportunity like the present. let me advise you, as you have entered into this business, to stick to it, and you will find it as lucrative, at all events, as any you could well engage in. you will pass in your journeys many a fine park and noble palace going to decay through the fines and alienations which have fallen upon them, and you will thus see for yourself how truly it has been lately written, that `an estate is but a pond, but trade a spring;' for you will also come upon fair houses, whose owners' names were unknown before the late civil wars, and you will find them flourishing by means of trade, honourably carried on from father to son, whereby not only wealth, but titles too have been won for this generation, and which promise to last for many yet to come." mr strelley received jack pleasantly, not the less so, perhaps, that he was accompanied by the doctor, who told him of the advice he had been giving his young kinsman. "ah, indeed!" observed the worthy manufacturer, "the wool trade is the great staple, and next to it i place the cattle trade. i will not detain you now to give you an account of these two great sources of wealth; you shall see them another time in my study: and take heart, my young friend; you have your foot on the ladder, and will climb some day to the top, if you gain all the knowledge your honoured kinsman is ready to give you, and are guided by his advice." "and by your own good sense, jack," added cousin nat. "don't wish to be master before you have learned to be man, and don't trust every one you may meet, however civil they may be and pleasant in their manners; and above all things, my boy, do not forget that there is a god in heaven who watches over you, and sees and knows every thing you do. do not fear to displease man, but dread greatly displeasing god. remember that he is your friend, and that you can go to him on all occasions. if you go boldly and frankly, as he has told you to do, trusting in his son who died for you, he will never turn aside from your petitions." mr strelley enforced what cousin nat had said with further arguments, and then having given jack various directions for his conduct on the road, and for the commissions he was to perform for him, shook him cordially by the hand, and wished him every prosperity on the journey which was to commence the following morning. chapter six. pearson's visit to squire harwood--plan to entrap jack. on the day jack had paid his visit to harwood grange, while the squire was walking up and down the terrace, enjoying the cool of the evening, he saw a horseman riding along the avenue towards him. he was a strongly-built, active-looking man, with somewhat coarse features and a bold expression of countenance. he dismounted as he approached mr harwood, and presented a letter which he drew from his bosom. "that will tell you who i am," said the horseman, as the squire opened the epistle and glanced at its contents. "ah, yes!" he said, looking up at the stranger, "we have met before. i remember you now. come along here, down this walk; we shall be out of ear-shot. well, what success have you had?" "not so much as i should have expected," answered the stranger. "there's no spirit in the young men now-a-days; they all seem to be finding employment either at home, or at sea, or in the plantations, and there are few worth having, or who can be trusted at all events, who seem disposed to draw a sword for king james." "i am afraid you are right," answered the squire. "most of those i have spoken to seem perfectly contented with this dutch william we have got over us, and do not show any wish to have back their rightful king. but still we must not despair, master pearson." "i am the last man to do that either," answered the stranger; "and if we cannot find them on this side of the border, there will be no lack on the other. it will not cost much labour to arouse the highlanders, while some of the best soldiers in the country, though they refuse to join us, will stand neutral, not for love of the stuarts, just the contrary, but because william did not treat king james as cromwell and his party treated his father." "what say you, master pearson? do you think you could arouse the people in the fen-country? you might raise and drill an army in those wilds without the government knowing any thing about the matter." "if the people had any spirit, it could be done," said master pearson; "but they are too dull and stupid, i fear, to be aroused by any motive, and i suspect they care little what king sits on the throne." "i am afraid, then, we must be content with small beginnings," said the squire. "a good time will come if we wait for it; and if william dies, though i would have no hand in hastening his death, there would be no doubt that the people would be glad enough to get king james back again." "as to that, his life is as good as james's," observed pearson; "and if we have not a strong party in readiness to take advantage of any thing that may occur, i fear the puritan nonconformists generally will still be too powerful in the country to allow the return of a catholic sovereign. we must go on recruiting, squire, and work away among gentles and simples till we have increased the strength of our party, and then will be the time to strike a blow, which may set things to rights again." "perhaps it may be so," observed the squire musingly; "but we must be cautious, master pearson; too many honest men have lost their heads for want of that quality, and i have no desire to lose mine or my estate either, which a plot of this sort, if discovered, would seriously imperil. mind, all i say is, that we must be cautious, and wait patiently till we can gain strength; and by-the-bye there is a young man i wish to win over, a fine, spirited lad, and i'm sure if we can gain him he will prove valuable to the cause. should you fall in with him, master pearson, i must commend him to your care. we have pressed him here pretty hard, and though he seemed stubborn, i think if right arguments coming from another source were to be used, he might yet be gained over. he is the younger son of mr jasper deane of nottingham. you are very likely in your rambles to come across him." "i have done so already," answered master pearson, "and formed the same opinion of the youth as you have expressed. i hoped, indeed, to have gained him over by this time; but though he promised to meet me again, i missed him. having, however, now received your further recommendation, i will be on the watch for him, and i dare say i shall come across him before long." "do so, good master pearson. i wish we could find a few hundreds such as he is, and the king would not long be kept out of his own. and now come into the house: we will send your horse round to the stable, and probably you and he will not be the worse for some refreshment." "as to that, squire, i have not ridden far to-day, but i know not how many leagues i may have to cover before to-morrow morning, and i make it a rule to keep my horse and myself in readiness for a gallop north or south, as i find necessary." "well, come in, master pearson; you can rest here as long as you like. my people are faithful, so that even if they suspected any thing, you need have no fear of their betraying you." at a summons from the squire the groom appeared, and was about to take master pearson's horse round to the stable, when he interposed. "stay," he said; "my beast is a sorry-looking jade, but i have a regard for the animal, and always make a rule of seeing her fed; so you will excuse me, squire, while i go round, and i will join you presently. take care of her heels, lad," he added, as the groom led the mare into the stable: "she has a trick of kicking, if she is not handled as she is accustomed to, for i always look after her myself. i will not unsaddle her, but just loosen the girths. there, that will do. there's as much corn there as she will require, and a few handfuls of hay will serve her for supper besides. you understand me now? you will be wise not to come into the stall unless i am here." as he spoke, he crossed the groom's hand with a piece of silver, and having removed from the holsters a brace of pistols, which he deposited in the ample pockets of his riding-coat, he left the stable. "you will keep an eye on the stables, and let me know if any one comes near them in my absence," he said, in a tone which made the groom feel that he was not a man to be trifled with. with an unconstrained, independent air, master pearson entered the house, where the squire stood ready to receive him. alethea came into the supper-room for a few moments, but not liking the manner or appearance of their guest, asked leave of her father to withdraw, guessing indeed that the squire would not require her presence during the meal. about the hour at which the family generally retired to rest, master pearson rose from his seat, declaring it was time for him to take his departure. "i must be twenty miles from hence before midnight," he observed, laughing. "i make it a rule if possible to put about that distance between the place where i am last seen, and the spot i sleep at, on most nights of the week. it is seldom i should thus fail to prove an _alibi_ if necessary, while it would be difficult for any one, however sharp, to catch me." the squire accompanied his guest to the stable, where master pearson carefully examined his horse's hoofs, as well as the girths of his saddle, threw himself into it, and shaking hands with his host, started off at a quick trot down the avenue. "a hard life he must have of it," thought the squire, who was beginning to be fonder of his ease than of physical exertion. "i hope that he is trustworthy, for he has my life, and that of a good many other worthy gentlemen, in his power." chapter seven. jack's journey to stourbridge, and adventures on the road. jack, when he placed his head on his pillow the last night before leaving home, fully expected to awake of his own accord the following morning; but for several hours sleep did not visit his eyelids; and when at length he opened them, he saw his eldest sister kate leaning over him. she had been watching for some time his youthful face, which even in sleep bore so determined an expression, while the brown, strong hand outside the counterpane looked well fitted for any work he might undertake. "jack," she said, "you did not answer, dear brother, when i knocked at the door, and i was afraid you would over-sleep yourself: besides, i want to have a few words with you which i had no opportunity of speaking last night. brother, you are going into a world where, although there is some good, i am afraid there is a great deal of evil, and treachery, and deceit. though you have done wild and thoughtless things, still you know what is right, and i am sure you wish to follow it. but, dear jack, i know you better than perhaps you know yourself. do not trust to your own good intentions. you may think now that nothing will tempt you to do what is wrong, but remember that satan is always going about to lead us away from the right course; therefore, jack, i want you to look to your bible to learn how you ought to walk, and then to pray to god that he will, by his holy spirit, enable you to walk aright. here is a bible, jack, and i hope you will take it with you; but i must not preach more. i see you have a letter from mr strelley to mr gournay at norwich. you know that our friend giles dainsforth is staying with him, and i must tell you, jack, what i have never told you before, that i have promised to become his wife, if our father and mother will give their consent. he has not as yet much worldly wealth, but he is steady and industrious, and that will come in good time; only i want you to speak to him, and hear what he has got to say to you. it will not be time lost to you: of that i am sure. you will tell him all about us, and should he not be at home, you will make a point of trying to find him, will you not, jack?" as she spoke, she imprinted a kiss on her brother's brow. "and now i will go down-stairs and get your breakfast ready. may god ever be with you, my dear brother!" while jack was dressing, he received a visit from his brother jasper, who had some kind words and good advice also to give him. although the brothers were on the best of terms, they associated very little with each other, their habits and amusements being very different. still, jack admired and respected jasper for his talents, his amiable disposition, and his refined manners, though he felt little disposed to imitate the latter. jasper had been away at the time jack paid his farewell visit to harwood grange, and whether he admired alethea or not, he at all events showed no jealousy of his brother, or annoyance at his having been there without him. polly's farewell was even more hearty than that of her brother and sister. her parting salute was a slap on the back, in return for some words which he whispered in her ear, and a glance of pride, perhaps, as she saw the good figure he cut, equipped in his horseman's suit and thoroughly prepared for the road. his parents gave him their blessing, but the manner of his father especially was somewhat cold, and showed him that the old gentleman had not altogether got over his dislike to the calling he had resolved to follow. in a few minutes more, mounted on a stout cob, with a serviceable pair of pistols in his holsters, he was jogging along the road to cambridge by the side of master brinsmead, accompanied by an ample number of drovers in charge of one of the largest droves of cattle which had for some time past left the trent valley. it may easily be imagined that such a journey, begun in summer time, continued at short stages, with frequent delays at towns, and lonely inns, and farm-houses, was full of interest to jack, who had only made one short trip of the sort before. the long droves of cattle went slowly along the roads, which in most places were little better than causeways roughly raised from the mud that lay on either side in bad weather. even the best highways were allowed to fall into a miserable condition, so that carriages could with difficulty traverse them, except in the immediate neighbourhood of london and some of the larger cities. the hedge-rows every where afforded ample shade, and the wide green margins of the lanes gave space for the herd to lie down during the heat of the day. at such times jack would pursue his beloved sport of angling--for he was never willing to be idle--and many a delicious repast of trout, and chub, and barbel did he broil over the drovers' gipsy fire. on such occasions will brinsmead seldom failed to bring forth his well-worn bible, or his beloved bunyan's "pilgrim's progress," from which, lying down with his elbow on the grass, he would read half aloud to himself, raising his voice if he saw any one approaching near enough to listen. jack was frequently among brinsmead's auditors. these quiet rests were generally succeeded by the bustle which was to be found in the various towns and markets through which they passed; but though for the moment the impressions received appear to have worn off, in after-years jack remembered his old friend's quaint remarks with no small amount of satisfaction and profit. brinsmead's droves were often joined by others belonging to different masters. they usually travelled as far as possible in the earliest morning hours, to secure the freedom of the roads. on all occasions the drovers were armed with various weapons to defend their charge from the cattle-stealers who were too often apt to hang upon their skirts, ready to carry off any stray beast they could find, though the gibbet was the penalty if they were captured. trains of pack-horses also would bear them company as they approached cambridge, carrying all kinds of stores and goods for stourbridge fair. jack, following the advice of his friend, resolved to obtain as much information as he could, and therefore often fell out from his own party, and jogged along by the side of the merchant or pedlar who seemed most ready for his society. jack had also occasionally to ride on before the drovers, to make arrangements for the feeding and rest of the cattle with some farmer or grazier a little off the high-road. in most instances the worthy farmer was so well pleased with his honest countenance and pleasant manners, that he invited him with master brinsmead, who was well-known all along the road, to partake of his family supper. if good old will found a fitting opportunity, he would on such occasions suggest reading a chapter in the bible, which he expounded in his own peculiar phraseology, in a clear and edifying manner, never failing to offer up a fervent prayer that a blessing might rest on the house of his entertainers, that his honoured master might prosper, and that he and his companions might be preserved from the dangers of the road, and obtain a satisfactory price for their cattle. seldom indeed did his hosts refuse his offer, or fail to be sensible that besides his fair payment for keep of man and beast, he had left a blessing behind him. at many of these midland farms great bargaining took place, for mr strelley's droves supplied them with store cattle, as agriculture was beginning to be better understood than it had ever before been in england. whole carcases were still salted down for winter consumption at the great country-houses. at these also brinsmead and john deane were welcome visitors, and chaffering in the steward's room, or with his honour the squire, or even with my lord or my lady herself, would frequently take up many hours of the day. they had also to buy as well as to sell, for the larger the supply they could take to stourbridge fair, the better would it be for their speculation. one day jack had been riding by the side of a travelling merchant, the owner of a train of pack-horses, when, as he was dropping behind to join his own party, he felt a hand pressed on his shoulder, and heard a voice which he thought he recognised exclaiming, "what cheer, lad? glad to see that thou hast kept to thy intention, and taken up the honest calling of a drover. better than cutting weasands any day for the sake of keeping a dutch usurper on the throne," he added in a lower tone. jack looked at the speaker once or twice, unable to recognise him. at length it occurred to him that he was the very man who had joined him on their poaching expedition. "i think i know you," he said, looking at him again. "you ought to do so, for we have met before; and it was not my fault that we did not meet again," answered the stranger. "what! master pearson?" said jack, examining his countenance more narrowly, and looking down on the somewhat clumsy, ill-groomed horse which the speaker bestrode. the animal was, however, he saw at a second glance, not destitute of bone and muscle; while the rider's expression of countenance and general appearance made it difficult to believe that he was of the pacific character his words would imply. a pair of substantial saddle-bags hung across the saddle, and jack observed that the butts of two pistols projected from the holsters on either side. "why, master pearson, you have made good despatch with your business in the north," said jack; "for i think i am not wrong in calling you by that name. i hope that it has been successful." "as things generally go with me," answered pearson carelessly. "i am now on my way south again to cambridge and other places; for i also have some interest in the wool trade, and hope to be at stourbridge fair: that beats every other mart in the world, in my opinion." "i have heard that it was far above our goose fair," said jack, "though we are not ashamed of that either." "that is a right curious name you give your fair, master deane," observed pearson. "there must be a great sight of geese sold there, i'm thinking." "not exactly," answered jack. "i do not know that more geese are sold then than at any other time." "then come, tell me why it is called goose fair: there must be a reason for it," said pearson. "if you know it, out with the truth, lad." "the reason why our nottingham fair is called goose fair? well, if you needs must know the story, i'll out with it," said jack, thus pressed by his companion. "of course, having been born and bred in nottingham, i believe all about it. you must know that some time, since bold robin hood ranged through sherwood forest, at all events between his days and ours, there dwelt within it, some ten miles away, a worthy knight and his dame. the better half of the knight was a shrew, and led him a wretched life. he had a son, on whom he bestowed all the affection which his wife might have shared. at length death relieved him of his tormentor. the dame died and was buried. he had a wonderfully heavy stone put on the top of her grave, lest she should come to life again; and then he gave all his thoughts to the education of his son. he resolved, moreover, that he should not make the mistake of which he had been guilty by marrying too early. he therefore kept the boy closely confined within the precincts of his own domain, within which not a female of any age, old or young, was allowed to enter. they were all alike, he declared. the oldest might inveigle his boy as well as the youngest. at length the lad having approached the age of twenty-one, and being perfectly contented with his lot, his father thought that he might with safety take him to nottingham fair where he had business. scarcely had they dismounted from their steeds than a damsel with black eyes and rosy cheeks came tripping by. the lad regarded her with eyes of astonishment and admiration. "`oh, father, father, what is that curious animal?' he asked, seeming about to run after her. "`why, my boy, that is but a goose--a silly, weak, worthless goose,' answered the knight, greatly alarmed at the effect the sight of the damsel had had on his son. nevertheless they entered the fair, where not one but hundreds of damsels presented themselves to the astonished gaze of the young man. "`ah, this must be goose fair!' he kept saying to himself; but being well brought up, he kept steadily by his father's side. this so well pleased the knight, that he promised to give him any fairing he might ask for. "`oh, thank you, dear father!' he exclaimed instantly. `oh, buy me a goose--by all means buy me a goose!' "from that day to this our fair has been called goose fair; and really, master pearson, i think you'll allow that there are some very pretty geese to be seen there." master pearson laughed at jack's account, and at his notion of its importance. "well, there are some fairs abroad which i have visited almost on as grand a scale. there is leipsic in saxony, neuremberg, and augsburg, all great in their way, but not to be compared to stourbridge as to the value and amount of property sold." "what! have you ever been to those places?" asked jack with surprise, glancing at the rough-looking drover, "or do you only speak from having heard of them?" "oh, i have attended the fairs held there myself!" answered master pearson. "i have been to many others too, such as that of frankfort-on-the-maine; and i tell you, my lad, the great corn-field near casterton shows a more wonderful sight than any of them. you are lucky in having to make your first business trip there, instead of northward." "i do not care greatly which way i ride," answered jack cheerily; "all the world is new to me, and i want to see as much of it as i can." "you will see a specimen of a good deal of what i call the world in a few days," said master pearson. "we have had such splendid weather, that the corn has been got off the fields, otherwise it would be a bad look out for the farmers. the fair-keepers have a right, you must know, to trample it under foot, and to lay out their streets, and set up their booths on the ground, whether it is standing or not. however, you'll know all about the fair when you have been there. you'll have extensive dealings in one way or another for your employer, i doubt not." "yes, probably," observed jack. "we shall have a good sum to lay out, i know; for we have done very well with beasts. they say that the drovers from the north have had great losses from the attacks of ben nevis and his gang, who have been bolder than ever this year. it is a pity a fellow of that sort cannot be caught and hung. i have no fancy for allowing rogues to disturb honest men in their proper trade. for my part, i should like to organise a bold band of fellows and hunt down the robber. i have learned one thing--that black is black, and white is white; and though, maybe, he is a bold fellow, that is no reason he is not a rogue, and richly deserves hanging." master pearson laughed as jack spoke. "you must catch your hare before you cook him; remember that, lad," he observed. "there is the difficulty," answered jack. "they say that no one has caught sight of him except at a great distance; and i am told his horse flies like a meteor, and is as light as the wind. he can follow his master up-stairs as easily as a cat, and up a tree for that matter, i verily believe, and will leap down precipices high enough to break the bones of any ordinary man or horse. thus there is scarcely a chance of coming up with him, although the country has been scoured again and again, and even some of his rogues have been caught and hung." "a valuable animal that you speak of," observed master pearson coolly. "i dare say his master is as proud of him as i am of my poor beast, who, though he has no great speed, is a trusty friend on the road, and has carried me many a long mile. `slow and sure' is his motto." "i do not fancy that you always ride at a slow pace though, master pearson," observed jack, laughing carelessly. "your legs cling too tightly to your horse's sides, and you have too easy a seat in your saddle to care much for a slow beast, sure as he may be." "i was bred in yorkshire, master jack deane," answered pearson with a peculiar glance at jack. "every boy there knows how to bestride a horse as soon as he can run; though, to be sure, i won't deny that i have taken a gallop now and then in my day. and now i think we understand each other. you remember our meeting down by the river-side: i took a fancy to you on that night, and i told you i had something to talk to you about. are you willing to hear it now? but i have no fancy that any passer should hear the chance words we may let drop: so speak low when you reply my ears are sharp enough; and you will give me your word of honour that you will not repeat what you hear of me, unless i give you leave." jack, whose curiosity had been aroused by what master pearson had said, gave the required promise, and without further circumlocution his companion proposed to him a scheme which jack would have been the wiser had he at the first refused to listen to. master pearson showed himself to be an able diplomatist, and mr harwood would have been thoroughly satisfied had he heard the way in which his wishes were carried out. "think of what i have been saying, my lad," he continued. "you have got the right qualities in you, depend upon that, and it's your own fault if you don't rise in the world in the way i have pointed out. and now, farewell; we shall meet again before long, i doubt not; but i have some business to settle a short distance off the road, and i must get free of this crowd." saying this, pearson shook jack by the hand, and trotted past him at a quick rate. a wide ditch and hedge divided the road from a large field, along which the way was free and open. a few drovers only were in sight, urging on their cattle. jack, who had kept his eye on his late companion, was somewhat surprised to see his seemingly sorry jade take a spring which cleared both hedge and ditch, and then to observe him cantering along the field at a rate which would have distanced many horses at a gallop. "he is a strange person," thought jack, "but he seems good-natured and well-intentioned. i cannot make him out, but as to doing what he advises, i must take time to consider about that." chapter eight. attacked by cattle-lifters. jack, drawing up by the side of the road, waited till brinsmead again overtook him, and then jogged on as before quietly by his side. "well, master deane, i hope you have not been engaged in any idle conversation with the varlets you have fallen in with along the road," said the old man. "there are some good men and true among them, but not a few rogues too, depend on that. for my part, i think it's generally wiser to keep myself to myself, unless one meets a godly man who can discourse discreetly on spiritual matters." jack was afraid that his good old friend was about to commence one of his long discourses. he therefore, to put a stop to it, and feeling that it was right to do so, mentioned his encounter with the stranger, though he was compelled by his promise not to say he had met him before, or to repeat the main subject of his conversation. he could not help remarking the contrast between the expression of honest brinsmead's countenance, as he jogged along on his steady old grey horse, and that of master pearson: the one free and open, with a kind smile generally playing over it, and the other strongly marked and coarse, with a cunning look in the eyes, and a constant tendency to a sneer on the lips. "after all, i had better not trust that man," he said to himself. "his words are seemingly fair, but i don't altogether like him." brinsmead and jack continued along the road for some way, with high banks and thick-set hedges on either side, till they reached a flat at the bottom of a dip, extending for a considerable distance, along which the water lay pretty deep, having long overflowed its proper banks, and wandered lazily for miles over meadows on either side of the road. here they were stopped by a cart greatly overloaded with wood, the two heavy wheels of one side having sunk deep in the mud. an old man in smock-frock, and five or six other carters in the same dress were working hard, apparently to extricate the waggon. "why don't the fellows unload the cart?" exclaimed jack; "they will never get it out otherwise." the pack-horses and the other herds must have passed before the accident had occurred; for there was scarcely room to allow the animals to get by between the cart and the ditch. just as mr strelley's herd arrived at the waggon, over it went, completely blocking up the road. "had we not better try and help them?" exclaimed jack to brinsmead; "they will never do it of themselves, and we should soon get the wood off the waggon." "let us see how they manage for themselves first," answered brinsmead. "i don't see what business they have to upset their waggon just at this moment. it is my belief that they could have prevented the accident had they chosen, from the way it went over." meantime the drovers with shouts and blows were turning back the herd, to prevent them rushing into the water, which they were about to do when they found they could pass no other way. "shall we help you?" cried jack to the carters. "we should soon with a few ropes be able to get your wheels on dry ground, if you take the weight off the top." "mind your own business, young man!" exclaimed a voice from the neighbourhood of the cart. "we know what we're about, and that's more than you do, i'm thinking." "i do not like the look of things," said brinsmead to jack. "i will stay here, and you go back and see after the cattle; i don't know what may be happening otherwise." jack accordingly, whip in hand, rode back, the herd being much more separated than usual. as he went on, he saw a considerable number of stragglers in the rear; and as he approached them, what was his astonishment to find that they were being driven away by a dozen fellows or more across the country! he instantly put spurs to his horse and galloped after them, drawing a pistol, and holding it in his hand as he advanced. the cattle-lifters, however,--for such there could be no doubt they really were,--took no notice of his approach, only urging on the beasts the faster. as he came up to the nearest man, he pulled the trigger, but the pistol flashed in the pan; while the man at whom he aimed uttered a scornful laugh in return. his second pistol behaved in the same manner; and on putting his hand in his pocket for his powder-flask, he found that that had gone. "you will get the worst of it," cried the man, "if you attempt to approach," drawing, as he spoke, a pistol from under his smock-frock. "you had better go back and look after the rest of the beasts, and think yourself fortunate we have not taken the whole of them." jack had lifted his heavy stock-whip, intending to dash in at the man; but at that instant the report of fire-arms from the direction of the cart which had been upset reached his ears. it was too evident that brinsmead and the rest of the men had been attacked, and jack felt he could be of most use by riding back to assist them. as he was hastening on, approaching the rear of the frightened herd, a horseman who had just come along the road approached him. the stranger, from the pistols in his belt and his general appearance, was, he had no doubt, one of the gang of cattle-lifters. jack, however, was not inclined to yield without a struggle. drawing therefore a long knife, or rather dagger, which he carried in a sheath in his belt, he dashed at the horseman. "halloo there, my lad, sheathe your blade, if you have not a fancy for having your brains blown out!" exclaimed the other, quietly at the same time drawing a pistol from his belt. jack saw that he was covered by the weapon, and restraining his anger exclaimed, "these beasts are under my charge, and i want to know by what right you and your people dare to drive them off the road?" "by the right of might," answered the robber, for such he seemed to be. "just calm yourself, my lad; perhaps we may settle matters more easily than you now fancy. you will understand that we could manage to carry off every one of your drove if we chose, but we do not wish to do that. will you listen to my terms?" "i will listen to them, but will not undertake to agree to them," answered jack. "what are they?" "we will take ten shillings sterling a head for every one of the cattle in the drove. if you agree to that, those which have been driven off shall be returned; if not, we shall take the liberty of helping ourselves to as many as we fancy." "i will mention the terms you propose to our head drover," answered jack: "if he agrees to them, i have not a word to say to the contrary." "well, be smart about it, my lad. will brinsmead is a man of sense, so i have no doubt he will listen to reason on this occasion. hasten down, therefore, to your friends in the swamp there; they and our men have played long enough at quarter-staff; and mark you, if brinsmead does not like my offer, remind him i have the power to settle the business in another way." jack looked doubtfully at the horseman, fearing that when he went up to the front, more of the cattle would be driven off. "you need not be afraid, mr deane; your cattle are safe enough, i give you my word for it: none shall be taken till you come back," said the robber, observing jack's hesitation. jack found brinsmead looking very disconsolate at the turn affairs had taken. "we have fallen among the philistines, jack, and it's not likely they will let us go till they have fleeced us completely." "cheer up, master brinsmead!" said jack. "i will speak to them, and see what can be done." on this jack called a parley with their opponents, who seemed prepared for the proposal; but not without much grief and many doubts did will brinsmead listen to the terms. seeing, however, that his chance of escape was hopeless, he at length consented to pay the levier of black-mail his iniquitous dues. on this jack rode back to the top of the rise where he had left the horseman, and told him that the arrangement was agreed to. "well, then, send your people to look after the beasts, and i will come down and settle with worthy master brinsmead. you will not find it silver thrown away, let me tell you; for we shall take care that not a crown more will you have to pay till you get safe back to your master with the profits of your journey." with many a groan and sigh brinsmead produced his leathern purse from a side-pocket carefully secured round him, and counted out the pieces into the broad palm of the cattle-lifter, who coolly deposited them in his pouch, as if he had been receiving the result of an honest bargain. meantime the waggon without much difficulty was lifted up from its position, and dragged on one side to allow the beeves to pass by. "i will give you an acknowledgment if you like, friend," said the robber with a laugh. "if you will write out the paper, i will sign it with my mark; for as to writing, it's an art i never learned." "how came you to know my name?" asked jack. "i don't remember you." "we know every body who travels along this road, and maybe we have met before, though you don't recollect me," answered the robber. "and now farewell to you, and may you find a good market for your beasts, and success in all your dealings." saying this, the robber turned his horse, and rode up the hill, while the rest of the band withdrew quickly out of sight. the poor fellows who had been hurt were placed on horseback, and brinsmead and jack deane trudged along by their side, considerably downcast by the adventure. brinsmead had never appeared so much put out. "this comes of the way you have of talking to all the people you meet, mr deane," he observed, in a tone very unlike that he usually used. "i have a belief that the man you were riding so long by the side of has had something to do with this day's business. i marked him when he passed me, and i told you then that i did not like his looks." "you mean master pearson, i suppose," answered jack. "i cannot make out how he can have had any thing to do with the thieves. he told me all about himself; and if he was not an honest man, he would not have done that. he is a yorkshireman, a dealer in wool and drapery, and is on his way to stourbridge fair and newmarket. if he had had any sinister motive, he would not have spoken as frankly as he did." "then who stole your powder-flask, and drew the bullets out of your pistols?" asked brinsmead. "not the man you speak of, certainly," said jack. "i looked at the priming of my pistols this morning, and they were all right, though to be sure, not thinking that they might have been tampered with, i did not examine the charges. however, he could not have done it while riding alongside of me. in what state did you find your pistols, brinsmead?" "i must own, jack, they would not go off either; and yet i did this morning what i always do, examine them before starting, when i have my master's property to defend upon the road." "but did you never lose sight of them after you had examined them?" asked deane. brinsmead thought a few moments. "yes, i remember now, for once i did; and now i think of it, i remember seeing a man, very like the fellow who has just left us, watching me as i went out. that's it, depend on it." while brinsmead was speaking, he pulled out his pistols and examined them with his ramrod. the charge of both had been withdrawn. he put them back into his holsters with a look of annoyance. "ah! these are old tricks, and more shame to me i was not up to them; but now, for the sake of the poor fellows we have got here, we must push on as fast as we can get the drove over this mud and these mortally bad roads. there's a house called winn's farm about three miles off from here, where we shall be able to get good pasturage, and the men will be well looked after." pushing on, in the course of another hour the drove approached winn's farm which had been spoken of, when deane walked on before that he might explain to the farmer what had happened, and make arrangements for remaining there during the night. the names of mr strelley of nottingham and his old drover were well-known along the road, and accordingly a kindly welcome was given to the whole party. the kine were turned into some good grazing-ground, and the wounded drovers were carefully placed on a bed, and their hurts looked to by dame winn, the farmer's wife. the good woman prided herself on her surgical knowledge, having received instructions from her mother, who in her younger days had had unhappily, during the civil wars, too much opportunity of gaining experience in the art of attending to gunshot wounds. "we must have better laws, master brinsmead; these sort of things cannot be allowed in the country," observed farmer winn, when his guests were seated round his hospitable board, at which all his family, as well as the drovers and his old farm-servants, were also assembled. "i have suffered from some of these caterans from the north, so i have a fellow-feeling with you, i can tell you." "the laws are not so bad," answered brinsmead, "but we want people to carry them out. the king is willing enough, but it is hard to get people to assist him. however, things are improving in many respects, and depend upon it these gentlemen have not a much longer course to run." will brinsmead had no objection to the good things of life, and while enjoying the substantial fare set before him by farmer winn and his good dame, soon forgot the annoyance he had suffered. chapter nine. stourbridge fair--adventures at cambridge. as will brinsmead and john deane with their charge approached cambridge, they found the roads, always far from good, becoming worse and worse, in consequence of the vast amount of traffic which had passed over them; while crowds of other small dealers and purchasers from all parts of the country would account for the vast concourse of people who were to be seen both in the town of cambridge, along the banks of the river, and thickly scattered over the meadows. from all directions were seen moving on carts, waggons, caravans, and vehicles of all sorts, from london and elsewhere, as well as innumerable trains of pack-horses laden with yorkshire goods from leeds, halifax, and other towns in an apparently endless succession, bound for the duddery, the great mart for wholesale dealers in woollen manufactures, which was to occupy a considerable portion of the meadow in which the fair was held. in the vehicles from london were conveyed milliners, toy-sellers, goldsmiths, turners, haberdashers, mercers, drapers, hatters, and in fact representatives of all the trades of the metropolis. at a short distance from cambridge the drove came fairly to a stop, when, as it chanced, brinsmead and jack found close to them, mounted on a tall pack-horse, a personage who by the peculiar cut of his somewhat threadbare garments they took to be a humble student of divinity. he wore a shabby cassock and a shovel hat, sitting the animal on which he journeyed sideways with a book in his hand, making a reading-desk occasionally of a bale of some sort which towered above the horse's neck. old will at once entered into conversation with him, and confided afterwards to jack that he had been highly edified by his correct and judicious remarks. jack had, however, remarked a peculiar twinkle in the student's eye when talking to the old man, which made him suspect his sincerity. he appeared, however, to be very well informed on many subjects, and still further won master brinsmead's heart by showing that he possessed some knowledge of the art of breeding cattle, and of healing their diseases, but little understood in those days. they were, however, again separated, and no more was seen of the divinity student. at length the towers and spires of cambridge, rising from the groves and gardens of the classic cam, came in sight. when jack deane rode up to the far-famed meadow, he might well be astonished at the scene he beheld. the sun shone brilliantly on a vast expanse of canvas, with bright-coloured streamers flying over it, and appropriate sign-boards, gilt weathercocks, and other painted ornaments, forming regular streets, and reaching from the high-road which runs between cambridge and newmarket to the river. the "duddery" was separated from the rest of the fair, and contained larger and more substantial buildings for the display of its valuable bales and its vast pockets of wool, one of which was sufficient to load a waggon. here, too, great quantities of yorkshire clothing were exhibited for sale, as well as the produce of the hosiery towns, such as nottingham, leicester, and derby. the sale of wool, however, did not begin till the lighter goods had been disposed of, so that brinsmead and deane had ample time to execute the various commissions with which they had been entrusted, and to wander about and to enjoy the wonders of the fair, which jack did to his heart's content. one whole street was devoted to hardware of all sorts, from excellent dutch delf to the coarse pottery furnished by staffordshire, with occasional luxuries in the form of chelsea tea-services, or costly jars of grotesque shapes from pekin, sent by the london china-shops. all sorts of toys and fancy articles were to be found. painted mirrors, which were then greatly in fashion, fans, long leathern gloves, jewelled snuff-boxes, wooden balls, and whirligigs might be seen, to satisfy the fancy of those who came rather for amusement than business. the great characteristic of the fair, however, lay in the enormous quantity of merchandise of the best quality that was accumulated there from all parts of england. the price of hops was fixed in kent and herefordshire by their value at stourbridge fair, and the horse-market and the cattle-market were the largest of the year any where. nearly a thousand horse-packs of yorkshire cloths, such as kerseys, fustians, and pennistons, together with manchester goods, took up one side and a half of the duddery, and it was not uncommon to hear that , pounds worth of woollen manufactures had been sold there in less than one week's time. among the tents and sheds were eating-houses and innumerable places of refreshment, and coarse entertainment to suit the lowest tastes, with the customary sights and shows popular at such gatherings. dwarfs and giants, jugglers and ballet-dancers and rope-dancers with their painted booths were more common than wonders from foreign lands. mountebanks attracted also great attention, and so also did some curious clocks from neuremberg, and dutch figures made to move by concealed machinery. play-actors and mummers also were to be found, some of their troupe in front of their large booths drumming and piping and shouting, and inviting the passers-by to enter and behold the wonders they had to exhibit. there were tumblers also, and fat pigs, and learned pigs, and dancing bears, indeed sufficient exhibitions of all sorts to captivate and amuse every description of taste. brinsmead, as he walked through the fair, kept jack close to him. the play-actors especially excited his indignation. "don't look that way, lad," he observed; "they are seducing follies, just invented by satan to lead the young astray, and no good ever came to those who have frequented such places. i would i were the chief magistrate, to put them all down; but the evil one must have his way, i'm afraid, though it will be a happy day when he is driven out of the world." the magistrates' booth held an important position in the array of lath and canvas, which had been erected as soon as the harvest had been got off the ground. here a regular court of justice was held as long as the fair lasted. the magistrates wore their gowns and gold chains of office, and arrived every day in some considerable state by water from cambridge, when they were generally followed by a crowd of gaily-painted barges and passenger-wherries, which had, as has been said, been brought from london. all disputes arising out of the traffic of the fair were settled at the magistrates' booth, which was also duly attended by constables and several officials, to preserve order and bring up culprits. the liveliness and brilliancy of the scene were greatly increased by the dresses of the many-coloured crowd: the gay cloth jackets and gold and silver lace, the bright ribbons in the head-dresses of the women, and the feathers in those of the men. these were the days when stockings of the brightest hue were worn by the women, with silver and variously coloured clocks, and high-heeled shoes; while the habits of the men were varied and many-coloured. no one seemed at rest. men, women, and children were moving about in all directions; now stopping before the mercers' shops, or the sempsters from cheapside, or looking into those of the goldsmiths: while the vintners were never without a crowd inside or out of their booths. here was a quack doctor selling his infallible specifics from his cart, promising an unfailing cure for all manner of diseases. there was a mountebank conjurer seated on a table, performing all sorts of wonders before a gaping crowd. here stood a seeming orator on a barrel, vociferating at the top of his voice, generally, however, inviting purchasers for some article of which his partner, who sat below him, had to dispose. the venerable town itself was of course overflowing with visitors of every degree, and one-half the guests at the inns were accommodated in the stables or lofts, where travellers of higher degree than brinsmead and deane were thankful to sleep on straw. their first business was very soon accomplished, as the butchers, to whom mr strelley's beasts were well-known, looked forward to supply themselves regularly from those which were brought to them by his drovers. the sums obtained for the cattle were to be spent in wool and hops; and besides this more important business, brinsmead and deane, with their men, had a great variety of private purchases to make for their families and friends. chapter ten. jack encounters master pearson, and goes to norwich. "vanity fair! vanity fair all over!" exclaimed brinsmead to jack, as they worked their way amidst the gaily-clad talking, higgling, laughing, shouting throng. "it's many a day since i came to this part of the meadow. it becometh me more to keep to the duddery, where staple wares are to be found, than to be wandering about in this fool's paradise; but i wished you, my young friend, to see what is to be seen, that i may point out its folly, and that you might not be fancying you had missed some great delight. see yonder shouting fool, with bells and cap and painted face, grimacing away to the gaping crowd, who think him the merriest fellow they have ever set eyes on. look into the poor wretch's heart, and, take my word for it, it's well-nigh breaking. maybe he has a sickly wife and ten small children at home, who will starve if he ceases to grimace: so grimace he must to the end of the chapter. but who is this? an old friend, i verily believe!" "yea, and a trusty one, friend brinsmead," said a person who at that moment confronted will, and took him cordially by the hand. "but what can have brought you into this hurly-burly of folly and wickedness?" "and what has brought you into the midst of the same hurly-burly, job hodgkinson?" asked will. "i desired to make a short cut from the duddery, and took my way across it," answered the stranger. jack did not hear more of what was said; for will having let go his arm, and the crowd pressing on them, they were speedily separated from each other. jack looked about for his friend, but old brinsmead's low-crowned hat was completely concealed by the higher beavers of more pretentious and taller persons. he pushed on as well as he could among the crowd, hoping to overtake brinsmead, but probably passed him. suddenly he caught sight, as he thought, of the worthy drover's broad-built figure, moving in a different direction to what he had expected at a pretty quick rate. this made jack exert himself to overtake him. by the time he came up with the chase, he found that he had been following a stranger. at last, after wandering about in all directions, he gave up the search as hopeless, and determined to amuse himself as best he could, and then to try and find his way back to their quarters in cambridge. jack, not quite entering into brinsmead's opinions with regard to the wrongfulness of watching the tricks of the mummers and mountebanks and other similar performers, had stopped before the booth of a conjurer, who was by his amusing tricks producing a succession of broad grins on the countenances of a crowd of rustics standing round him, and occasional loud shouts of laughter. as the hubbub for a moment ceased, jack heard his name pronounced; and turning round, he saw two persons of a class superior to the generality of the crowd standing close to him. the eyes of one of them especially were fixed on him. the other he recognised as the humble college student who had passed him and brinsmead on their entrance into cambridge. a second glance showed him that the student's companion was no other than his quondam acquaintance master pearson, though no longer habited as a drover, but as a substantial merchant, with a long coat of fine broadcloth, a broad-brimmed beaver on the top of his periwig, a long neckcloth, and high-heeled shoes with huge buckles. "ah, you are surprised to see me, master deane!" he observed with a laugh, putting out his hand. "i told you that i was a dealer in woollen goods, so that it is but fit i should appear in the proper guise of a decent merchant, instead of in the habit of a common rough-rider, in which you have before seen me. we have well met, for i have been hunting for you through the fair; and my reverend friend here told me he thought he had seen you, and would assist me in the search. i have brought a despatch for you from a friend; for since we parted i have ridden to nottingham and back again, and have a communication of importance to make to you. it must be in private though, for it will not do to have eaves-droppers, and we know not who standing round might hear us. where is worthy will brinsmead?" jack in reply told pearson how he had lost his friend in the crowd, and begged to be informed of the tenour of the communication. "i told you that i cannot deliver it out here," answered pearson; "so come along with me and my reverend friend, master simon stirthesoul; for you have not a chance of meeting with brinsmead again before nightfall; and i will see you afterwards to your lodgings, if you cannot find the way by yourself." jack instinctively gave a hopeless glance round once more for his friend, and then seeing no signs of him, agreed to accompany pearson and the minister. pearson seemed anxious not to let jack escape him, for he took him by the arm, and held it fast while they were working their way through the crowd. this took some time, for the busy throng seemed in no way inclined to make room for them. at length, however, they reached the banks of the cam, where master pearson hailed a wherry and bargained with the rowers to convey them to cambridge. by this time the shades of evening were coming on, and jack could not help feeling glad that he had fallen in with master pearson, rather than have to find his way by himself back to cambridge. never was the river more alive with boats passing and repassing, filled with all descriptions of people, from the magistrate with his chain and cloak of office, his gold-headed mace, and gaudily dressed officials, to small tradesmen and humble artisans with their wives and families. many returning from the fair were shouting and singing, evidently having paid frequent visits to the vintners' shops, while the children blew their trumpets and sprung their rattles, as an accompaniment to the vocal music of their elders. on disembarking from the wherry, pearson, instead of entering the town, led the way to a distant part of the outskirts, stopping at the door of what appeared to be a small farm-house. a knock with his walking-stick gained him admittance, when exchanging a few words with the inmates, he desired his companions also to enter. a decent-looking woman placed a tankard of ale, with pipes and tobacco, before them, and then, without making any remark, withdrew to an inner room. "they are trustworthy," observed pearson, as he closed the door; "and now, master deane, i will deliver my message. in the first place, you remember that evening i met you down by the water-meadows. it appears that in some way or other you have offended your companions on that evening, and one of them being taken up on suspicion of poaching with the hope of saving his own carcass a flogging, or the pillory, has informed against you and me. you will, therefore, find it somewhat dangerous to revisit your native town for the present. your friend mr harwood hearing of this, and knowing that i had become acquainted with you, sent you this packet, which you will examine at your leisure. it contains a further supply of introductions to several people of importance which he wishes you particularly to deliver in person, and i promised him to invite you to accompany me in the journey i propose making shortly to the north. you will there enjoy a wilder sort of life than you will find in this part of the country, and meet with a variety of characters which will afford you a subject of amusement." "how provoking!" exclaimed jack; "i did not think smedley and bligh would have turned traitors; and--and--" he hesitated for some seconds. "you mean to say, you would like to pay another visit to harwood grange," said pearson, with a laugh. "well, to my mind, you will serve your own purpose better if you carry out mr harwood's wishes. in a few months probably the matter will be forgotten, and in the mean time you can see something of the world. a trip over to the continent would be of interest." "but i have engaged to accompany brinsmead to norwich," observed jack; "and i have several commissions of importance to execute there for mr strelley. i must not neglect them." "no need for you to do so," answered pearson. "go on to norwich, as you purpose, and i will meet you in a week's time at saint faith's. i have agreed to wait there for a party of highland drovers, who are on their way south with some large herds of lean beasts, for the purpose of getting flesh put upon them in the lincolnshire fens. what do you say to this plan?" "i will think it over," said jack. "i would rather go back to nottingham and meet the charge like a man. if a fine would get me off, i would sell every thing i possess; though i have no fancy for the pillory, i will confess." "you would run a great risk of the pillory, let me tell you," observed pearson; "so i would advise you to carry out the plan i proposed; i think our reverend friend here will give you the same advice." "indeed would i, my son," observed the minister; "and though by it you have made yourself amenable to the laws, i cannot see that you are called upon of your own free will to expiate your offence by undergoing the punishment that would await you. i propose to accompany master pearson, and may be i shall be able to give you such counsel and advice as will keep you in future from committing such follies and transgressions. these are bad times we live in. our ancient customs are being overthrown daily, and no man can say where it will all end." "i thought that most people were pretty well contented now that king william is firmly seated on the throne, and that great improvements are taking place throughout the country in all directions," observed jack, repeating the remarks he had often heard made by his father, dr deane, the worshipful mr pinkstone, and others. the minister sighed. "what some call improvements others may look upon in a very different light," he observed; "but we will talk of these things by and by, my young friend; perhaps matters which you now see in one light, you may then see in another." it is scarcely necessary to repeat the conversation which took place. jack was excessively puzzled with many of the remarks made by his companions, especially by the divinity student, who seemed to have notions very different to those held in general by puritan divines. he was evidently a shrewd man, with cunning, piercing eyes, and sharp features, professing to care very little for the good things of life. it appeared that he was to remain at the house where they then were, for master pearson wished him good night, and, telling him that he would return anon, invited jack to accompany him into cambridge, where he would endeavour to find out the cat and whistle, the sign of the hostelry at which brinsmead and his drovers had put up. "no necessity to tell old will what we have been talking about," observed pearson; "especially that poaching matter, for instance. tell him that you have received instructions to part company with him at saint faith's; and if you render exact account of all your transactions, and give him up any money you may have received belonging to mr strelley, he can have no cause of complaint." pearson accompanied deane to the entrance of the inn, where, shaking him warmly by the hand, he said, "remember saint faith's; for your own sake keep to your present intention." jack followed pearson's advice with regard to the account he gave of the cause of his absence. old will fixed his keen grey eyes upon him; and jack could not help feeling that he looked at him with suspicion. "it's always that master pearson!" observed old will; "i should like to have a few words with him myself. i don't like these strangers who come dodging our steps and turning up in all manner of places. i have an idea, master jack, that he has been using you as a pump, to get up through you what information he can about our business. now, jack, if you have been communicative to him, you have acted like a fool, and, more than that, have done very wrong. a wise man should keep all his own affairs to himself; and still closer should he keep his master's affairs. they are not his property, remember; and he who talks about them is giving away what is not his own, and that no honest man will do." "you are hard upon me, master brinsmead!" said jack. "i am not conscious of having said any thing about mr strelley's affairs to pearson, or to any one else. i have committed faults in my time, that i know, and am very likely to have to pay the penalty--i rather hope i may--but i have never acted dishonourably to any one who has trusted me." jack, though he spoke thus, was not altogether comfortable in his mind. that night's fishing expedition, and many others of a similar character, which he was conscious were unlawful, rose up before him. besides, he felt he had spoken more freely to master pearson than he ought to have done, though he had not, that he was aware of, communicated any information which might prove detrimental to the interests of his employer. for the first time in his life, perhaps, he had little inclination for supper, while his dreams were far from being of a pleasant character. the next day he and brinsmead, with all their party, had an abundance of work to get through. one of the company of pack-horses had to be laden with wool and sent off to nottingham, while another was got ready to proceed to norwich. brinsmead and jack were to accompany the latter. the wool for norwich was to supply with material the worsted manufacture carried on in that town. it had long been noted for it, having been introduced by the flemings as early as the twelfth century; and it was followed up in latter years by that of sayes arras and bombasins. gauzes and crapes had of late years been introduced by the french huguenot refugees, to whom every encouragement was wisely afforded to set up their looms and other machines. chapter eleven. jack's visit to mr gournay--the story of madame le mertens. evening was drawing on when brinsmead and jack saw the towers of the numerous churches which norwich possessed, each situated on its own peculiar mound or hill. on entering the town, they proceeded through its narrow and winding streets to the bear inn, which brinsmead usually frequented. "there is time to present your letters this evening," he observed to jack. "when there's business to be done there's nothing like doing it immediately. it's provoking to find when you have delayed that the person whom you wished to meet has left the town the morning after your arrival, when you might have found him had you gone to his abode immediately." jack, nothing loath, prepared himself to call upon mr gournay. he liked old brinsmead very well in his way; but could not help sighing for more refined society than his late companions afforded. he therefore put on his sunday suit, and made himself as presentable as possible. he had no difficulty in finding his way to mr gournay's handsome and substantial residence, it being one of the principal mansions in the place. the great merchant himself was out; but he was admitted into the presence of the mistress of the family, who received him with a sweet and matronly grace. she wore her soft brown hair without the addition of any false curls, a rich grey silk gown woven by the huguenot weavers in spitalfields, a norwich-crape shawl, and fine flemish cambric in her cap, neckerchief, and ruffles. although it was the custom for ladies of rank to wear rouge as thick as paste, she wore none. she made many inquiries after her esteemed friends mr and mrs strelley, as well as jack's father and mother, and invited him to remain for their evening meal, which was to be served as soon as mr gournay and the other gentlemen inmates of their family returned. while they were speaking four young boys came into the room, whom mrs gournay introduced as her sons. they were followed by a tall and graceful lady in deep mourning, no longer young, but bearing traces of considerable beauty. "i must make you known to my friend and inmate madame de mertens," said mrs gournay. "she speaks english perfectly, having resided with us for some years, since she was compelled by the popish government of france to quit her native country." "ah, yes; and i have found a happy and quiet home here," said the lady. "if those i have lost could be restored to me, i would willingly abandon all hopes of regaining the fortune and estate i once enjoyed. ah, monsieur deane," she exclaimed, after some further conversation had passed between them, "how can any english people regret their popish king? i am told that even now among your noblest families there are some ready to risk life and fortune to bring him back! see what ours has done for us! think of the atrocities of his barbarous dragoons in our protestant districts--peaceful homes given up to pillage, to fire, and the sword. the best of our pastors flogged, and tortured in other ways, imprisoned in loathsome dungeons--what do i say? worse, oh, worse than all! the horrors of the galleys reserved for the noblest and best, for such as my own dear husband eugene, who, if he still lives, may yet be labouring at the oar, among slaves and outcasts of all nations! oh, may heaven in mercy rescue him from such an existence!" she ceased, for her feeling, roused by the recollection of the terrible scenes she had gone through, overcame her power of speech. she hid her face for some moments in her hands! "i should not have ventured to speak on this subject," she said, when she again looked up. "my husband was dutch, of an old family; but when he married me he became naturalised as a frenchman. for a few years after our marriage we lived a life of tranquillity and happiness in a chateau which i had inherited, removed from the turmoil of the world and political strife. we had one only child, a fair-haired, blue-eyed little damsel, with bright rosy cheeks and a happy, joyous smile on her countenance. at length, however, fearful troubles broke upon us on the revocation of the edict of nantes, just ten years ago. it was a time fatal to protestants who ventured to remain in the country. many of the best and noblest in the land fled from persecution. some effected their escape, but many were overtaken, and were executed, or are still groaning in prisons, or, like my dear husband, in the galleys. my dear sister and her husband had come to reside with us, hoping that in our secluded abode they would escape observation. her health was delicate, and on that fatal night when the dragoons burst into our house and carried off my brother-in-law, so greatly was she affected that her spirits gave way, and in a few days afterwards she sank to rest from this troubled world. my brother-in-law was heart-broken at the loss of his wife. he little knew how soon he was to follow her! my husband was absent from the house, when one evening i received notice that some officers of justice, as they were called, were approaching, in search of protestants. i had just time to snatch up my little elise, and to hurry off to the woods, where, in a hut which had been prepared by a faithful attendant, and known only to him, we were able to conceal ourselves. my dear husband, not aware of the personages who had possession of our house, returned late in the evening, having missed those who were on the watch to give him notice of what had occurred. he was instantly seized, and carried off for trial before the government officials, who had been sent to the neighbourhood for that purpose. he, like a faithful servant of our blessed master, refused to deny him, or to acknowledge the truth of any of the dogmas of rome. he was accordingly condemned to the galleys, a fearful fate! he was immediately marched off with many others, condemned for the same crime, to one of the naval ports; but from that day to this i have had no tidings of him, and if he has survived the hardships he has had to undergo, he is still labouring at the oar in one of those dreadful ships, enduring the worst kind of slavery, for life alone will terminate it. my poor brother-in-law was also captured, and refusing to recant, he was treated, being a frenchman, even more severely than my husband, for he was first tortured; still holding out, the barbarians placed him on the cruel wheel, where, while still alive, his bones were broken, and he, as did many other faithful protestants, expired, though in fearful torments, still crying to their lord and master, and acknowledging his love and the efficacy of the perfect sacrifice he offered for them. our faithful pierre, the steward of our estate, having collected all the jewels and other property which he could find, brought them to me and urged me on no account to return to the chateau, being sure that both elise and i should be sacrificed to the fury of our enemies. having friends in england, i resolved forthwith to escape to this country. i will not trouble you with my various adventures as i endeavoured to make my way with little elise in my arms to the sea-coast. the poor people in the villages through which i passed, compassionating me and my little girl, gave us all the assistance in their power. often some honest farmer, though at considerable risk to himself, would drive me some distance, concealed in his waggon, in the direction i wished to go. thus i at length reached the neighbourhood of the north coast, where i hoped to find a vessel which would convey me to the shores of england. i had already gained the beach, when in consequence of the waves breaking on the shore, there was great difficulty in embarking. fearing that elise might receive some harm should i attempt to hold her while getting into the boat, i committed her to the charge of a seaman, an officer he seemed of some sort, who told me he was going off with us. a considerable number of other people were about to embark in the same vessel, and were crowding down to the edge of the water, when there was a cry that the dragoons were advancing towards us. i in vain attempted to reach the boat. other people were crowding in, and the seamen, afraid that some accident would happen from her being overloaded, shoved her off into deep water. in vain i entreated that elise might be restored to me, or that i might be taken on board. "`the dragoons! the dragoons!' shouted the people all around me. "`come, madame, this is no place for you!' i heard a person say close to me. he seized my arm, and almost dragged me along the beach. `i know of a place near here where you can be concealed,' he said. `i will conduct you to it; there is no time to lose.' "again i entreated him to look for elise. "`that will be useless,' he answered: `she is in god's hands, and he will preserve her! you can do nothing now.' "he forced me on; and i could not indeed help feeling the justice of his remarks. "assisted on by him we reached some rocks, amid which he worked his way, even though it was dark, showing that he was well acquainted with the spot. after going on for some time longer, i found that we were in front of a small cave. "`go in there,' he said, in a low voice. `it is large enough to contain many people; and i have stored it with food for such an emergency as this.' "the stranger then told me that he was the protestant pastor of the neighbouring district, and that, though compelled to quit his church, he still ministered in secret among his former flock, who supplied him with food, and warned him of the approach of danger. he had devoted himself to assisting those protestants who, less fortunate than himself, came to that part of the coast. "`i am aware,' he said, `that at any moment i may be discovered; and yet i feel that i am called to this work. god in his mercy has thought fit to preserve me from the hands of my persecutors!' "supplied with food and other necessaries by this brave and good man, i remained for several days in the cave. he had a sad account to give me of the fate of most of the fugitives who had been unable to get on board the vessel. some were cruelly sabred by the dragoons, even though crying for quarter. others--men, women (young and old), and children-- were lifted up on their horses, and carried off at full speed to the neighbouring town, where they were thrown into the dungeons already crowded with prisoners. "at length the good pastor considered it safe to conduct me to a lonely farm-house, where he told me i must remain till he could arrange for my passage to england. i longed to go, in the hopes of recovering my dear little elise. nearly a month passed before he was able to make the desired arrangements. i wished to pay the good people with whom i had lived, but they would receive no remuneration, and insisted on carrying me in a cart to the beach, where the boat was ready to receive me. a gale came on soon after we were at sea, and we were driven up the channel till we were off the town of yarmouth, where at length i landed. some co-religionists of the good mr gournay, living in that town, hearing of my arrival, received me in their house; and from thence i came on to norwich, where i have ever since resided. in vain i have made inquiries for my dear little elise, greatly helped by my kind friends in this house, but no news have i received of her. you, i am told, monsieur deane, are likely to be constantly moving about the country, and it is possible that you may thus hear of the little girl, should she have escaped." "but she must have greatly grown since the time you speak of," observed deane: "it was fully ten years ago, was it not?" "ah, yes--yes!" answered madame de mertens; "but she cannot be so changed that i should not know her; and you may hear, among the huguenot families, of a little orphan girl, though, i fear, alas! that there are many, many such. i will show her picture to you as i conceive her to be, and that perhaps may help you. i have drawn it often and often; for my great delight is to think of the little girl, and of my dear husband also. you would not know him though, i fear, if he survives, so greatly changed must he be by the hardships and barbarities he has gone through. compared to his, my own fate has been fortunate, thanks to the generosity of my kind friends in this house, and to others. i have also been able to support myself by teaching, and have even had it in my power to help others of my countrymen who required assistance; but still the picture of my dear husband, in that dreadful slave-ship, is constantly coming before me; and often and often i think of my beloved child, thrown among strangers, who may too probably be of an inferior class, unable to give her instruction, or perhaps papists, who will bring her up in a faith so contrary to that for which her father died, and those who love her suffered!" jack, much interested in what he heard, promised faithfully to lose no opportunity of making inquiries for the little elise, who, however, by that time must have been fifteen years of age--a fact which her mother, when first describing her, seemed to have overlooked. when jack afterwards told brinsmead of the commission he had undertaken, the old man smiled somewhat grimly, as was his wont when he smiled at all, saying, "i am afraid it will be something like looking for a needle in a stack of hay, but at the same time the needle may be found, so i do not tell you not to do your best to execute the poor lady's wishes." madame de mertens had just brought her history to a conclusion when mr gournay, accompanied by giles dainsforth, entered the room. "friend deane, i am truly glad to see thee," he said, taking deane by the hand. "i have heard of thee from friend dainsforth here, and of thy family, and i trust that anon we shall become better acquainted. thou hast an honest face, and if thou art diligent in business, thou art sure to gain the competency which is all that a man need desire in this life, and albeit its wealth flows in on some, by god's providence; remember, shouldst thou ever possess it, that wealth may prove a snare and temptation to thee, even as great as want and poverty is to some men. thou wilt have need of prayer for guidance, even as much as thou hast at present, for the devil is ever going about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour; and the rich man may prove as dainty a morsel to him as the poor one--but above all does he delight in feeding upon those who have a name to lose, those who are ensigns and leaders in their church, elders and deacons, and such like. however, thou hast been journeying all day, and i will not speak to thee more of this subject at present, so come with us that thou mayst recruit thine inner man." saying this, the hospitable and generous quaker led the way to his handsome parlour. though his own dress was simple--for he had abjured ruffles and periwig, and wore neither sword, nor lace on his cloak, nor clocks to his stockings--yet it was of the best material, and in no way different in form from that of other wealthy merchants and commoners, while the apartment into which he ushered his guest was richly furnished, and the table was covered with a handsome service of plate and china. giles dainsforth, who, though not a quaker, was dressed with puritan simplicity, was a tall, strongly-built young man, with intelligent, though not refined features. he welcomed jack warmly, as the brother of one to whom he was engaged. mr gournay treated him with a respect and consideration which showed that he had confidence in his integrity. jack thus at once made himself at home, and he could not help contrasting his present position to the life he had been leading for so many days. his host, john gournay, who was born in , was the founder of the family, who have since become known for their wealth and liberality. at an early day he had joined the society of friends, or quakers, as they were called, and established himself as a merchant at norwich, where he became the owner of several manufactories. it was greatly in consequence of the encouragement and support which he gave to the french protestant refugees that he was enabled to lay the foundation of the vast wealth of the family in trade, which their industry supplied. his generosity, liberality, and industry being thus speedily rewarded by the hand of providence. his silk and wool mills were the best then in england for the usual norwich manufactures, as also for other delicate productions, such as crape shawls and dress-fabrics. although somewhat grave and formal in his discourse to strangers, at his genial board his formality soon disappeared, and jack deane, as has been said, passed a pleasanter evening than he had enjoyed for some time. although profane music was not indulged in, mistress gournay and madame de mertens sang some very sweet and touching hymns, which went more to jack's heart than any music he had ever heard. giles dainsforth insisted on accompanying jack back to his inn, to which he wished to return, though hospitably pressed to remain by mr gournay. dainsforth of course had many inquiries to make about jack's family, and especially about kate. he confided to jack his intention of seeking his fortune in the new colony in america, established by master william penn, the son of the celebrated admiral. "as to worldly wealth, dear jack," he said, "i might gain that in england, but of freedom of conscience and freedom of worship, we may at any time be deprived, i fear. our present king--may heaven preserve him!--is liberal, but there are many malignants yet in the country who are striving for place and power, and we know not what another reign may bring forth. other acts of conformity may be passed; and i cannot forget the cruel way in which our divines were treated in the last reign, when they were cast out on the cold world to gain their livelihood, as best they could, by those who sought to obtain only the loaves and fishes which their livings afforded." "but will my father agree to let sister kate cross the ocean, and leave him for ever?" asked jack. "thy father is a man of sense," answered dainsforth. "in most things he agrees with me; albeit he is more inclined to associate with malignants than i approve of, yet he, too, sees how the wind blows, and if he thinks it is for the happiness of thy sister kate, he will not prevent her following the bent of her inclinations. often has she said to me, `where thou goest i will go,' and therefore, without undue presumption, i may hope that she will consent to accompany me across the wide ocean to the land of promise. it is a beautiful and rich country, jack; i would that thou wouldst make up thy mind to come with us! we might there, in a new england, enjoy that peace and prosperity and liberty of conscience, and freedom to worship god as we list, which may be denied us in this old country." the idea was quite a new one to jack. it had never occurred to him to seek his fortune abroad, simply, probably, because he had not been thrown in the way of persons who spoke on the subject. he promised dainsforth, however, to consider the matter. "i will talk to thee anon more about it, jack," said dainsforth, as they parted. "for a young man enjoying the health and strength that thou doest, i cannot picture a finer calling than that of subduing the wilderness, of turning a desert into a garden, and producing fruitful corn-fields out of wild land. the vine and the olive, and the orange flourish, they say, out there; and that corn which they call maize, with its golden head, so rich and prolific; and there are deer in the woods, and quail innumerable, and fish in the rivers and in the sea which washes its coasts. indeed all the wants of man can there be amply supplied." dainsforth having given a description of the new world to jack sufficient to keep him awake all the night with thinking of it, took his departure at length from the inn, promising to call for him on the morrow, and to assist him in transacting the business he had undertaken for mr strelley and other friends in nottingham. dainsforth expressed his hope of meeting him ere long at nottingham, to which place he expected to be sent in the course of the autumn on some business for mr gournay. jack was sorry when his visit to norwich came to an end. chapter twelve. jack meets pearson at saint faith's and accompanies him to the north. john deane's stay at saint faith's was to be very short, and then he and brinsmead were to take their way back to nottingham. will brinsmead seemed somewhat out of temper as jack rode alongside him on their journey to the former place. he seemed unreasonably jealous of the attention which jack had received from mr gournay. he had also, it appeared, not got over some suspicion of jack, in consequence of his apparent intimacy with the stranger who called himself master pearson. "he may be master pearson, or he may not be master pearson," observed will, sententiously: "and he may be an honest man, or he may not be an honest man. there are many rogues going about the world, and he may be one, or he may not be one; but i do not like a man who turns up here and turns up there, and dodges one's footsteps, and does not give a reasonable and proper account of himself. now, it appears to me, master deane, that you have talked to this master pearson, supposing he is master pearson, a great deal too much. if you had held your tongue, he would have gained no information out of you. when you are among strangers, it's my opinion, that, if you are wise, you will say nothing. if you hold your tongue, those you are with will think you wise; but if you talk, ten chances to one they will think you a fool!" "thank you, master brinsmead, for the compliment," said jack. "i told you before that i did not think i had said any thing to this man pearson in any way detrimental to our interests, or to those of our employer, mr strelley. if i did, i am heartily sorry for it: but even if i did, it must be proved that he is a rogue before you should say that any harm could have happened from what i talked about." brinsmead, however, was not to be brought back into good-humour; and jack was very glad when the tall, square tower of saint faith's church rose up in sight above the dead flat of marshy country over which they were travelling, which, however, was relieved by occasional groups of tall beech and birch-trees, and lines of weeping ash, amid which in spring and summer were happy birds singing all day, and some too even during the night. saint faith's, although but a small village, was just now crowded with visitors, albeit rather of a rough description, being chiefly highland drovers in plaid and kilt, or trowes, with daggers stuck in their belts, carrying, however, long goads or staves in the place of broadsword and targets. there were purchasers also of the cattle they came to dispose of from all parts of the country, mostly as rough in their way as the scotchmen they came to meet. the accommodation which the inn afforded was suitable to such characters as the visitors who frequented it. fortunately for jack, their stay was to be short, as brinsmead had merely to make arrangements with certain drovers he expected to meet to purchase cattle, which, instead of coming so far south, were to be driven to nottingham. jack heard brinsmead making inquiries about the person he expected to meet, and seemed rather disappointed at not finding him at the hostelry where he had arranged to come. on a second visit, however, to the black bull, the landlord informed brinsmead that a highlander had been inquiring for him, and was even now in the public room awaiting his coming. "there he is, master brinsmead!" said the landlord, pointing to a strongly-built man in highland dress, who was seated at a table, with a huge tankard of ale before him. by his side, in rather incongruous company, it appeared to jack, was the reverend minister he had met at cambridge. the scotchman rose as brinsmead, conducted by the landlord, approached him. "if you are master brinsmead, as i have ne'er doobt is the case," he said, "i have to tell you of a sad accident which occurred to our respected friend, jock mckillock, whom you expected to meet here: and, seeing that he could not come himself, he deputed me to transact the proposed business with you." on saying this the speaker presented a letter to brinsmead, which the latter handed to jack to read, observing, "you're a better scholar than i am, mr deane, and i'll beg you just to see what friend mckillock has to say." jack took the epistle, which was somewhat dirty, the superscription being in a large though not over-legible hand. he saw, however, that it was addressed to master brinsmead, drover, at saint faith's. on opening it, jack saw that it purported to be signed by jock mckillock, introducing his trusted friend mr allan sanderson, who would make all the arrangements for the sale of the cattle they had spoken of at their meeting on the previous year. the price had risen somewhat, he observed, in consequence of the demand for salt-beef for the fleet, and the licence-fees, which, against all right and justice, they were compelled to pay to king william, who, worthy as he had been in other respects, had committed the same grievous sin of which the king of israel had been guilty when he neglected to hue agag in pieces, in not taking away the life of the popish monarch when he was delivered into his hands, as also in favouring the prelatic priests of the church of england. these remarks had a considerable effect with brinsmead, who agreed with the principles of his correspondent, though he did not object to his master paying the licence-fees, considering they did not come out of his own pocket. jack on delivering the letter to brinsmead, examined more narrowly the countenance of the person who had brought it, and felt immediately convinced that it was no other than master pearson. he could not help giving a glance which showed that he recognised him; but the other returned his look with so calm and unmoved an expression of countenance, that he was almost staggered for a moment in his belief. still, when he recollected that pearson might have some cause why he should not wish to let brinsmead know of their previous intercourse, he determined--wisely or not, it may be a matter of opinion--not to address him as an acquaintance. the minister in the same way stared at him as if they had never met before. jack was exceedingly puzzled, not being able to understand for what reason he did not wish to be recognised. he had time, however, to think over the matter while brinsmead and the highland drover were making their arrangements, in accordance with the suggestions contained in the letter. the minister also pulled a volume out of his pocket, and appeared to be completely absorbed in it. "but who is this young man with you, master brinsmead?" asked sanderson, turning an inquisitive eye, as it seemed, towards jack. "though you are unable to travel so far north to inspect the beasts, if he understands cattle, and is intelligent and trustworthy, would it not be well to let him come in your place? my respected friend, jock mckillock, would rather you looked at the cattle before they are driven south." "the lad is trustworthy enough," answered brinsmead, in a low voice, so that jack should not be supposed to hear it. "he understands, too, the points of a beast better than most lads of his age. though his shoulders are young, he has got an old head on the top of them; but it's a long way to send him all alone, and he has yet to learn something more of the world than he knows at present. an old bird like me is not to be caught by chaff. he must be a sharp blade to deceive me, you may suppose, master sanderson, whereas he might easily be led in the toils of the many sharpers and impostors going about in all directions. it would be wiser not to trust him alone." "do not fear that, master brinsmead," answered sanderson, "i am returning north, and will look after the lad, and guard him from all dangers such as you hint at. i cannot side with him when he is making his bargain, and help to beat down jock mckillock, but i will give him all the advice in the general way i can, and jock's an honest chield, and would not take advantage of him when he puts his trust in his honour." jack all this time could not help overhearing the conversation, and became more puzzled than ever how to act. a journey to the north for the purpose of purchasing cattle was exactly after his own taste, but he could not understand the deception which was being practised upon his companion. if pearson was honest, why did he now assume a different name from that by which he had before been known? which, also, was his right name? the minister too, who was his companion, had heard him called pearson, and he now announced himself as allan sanderson in his presence, and yet the reverend gentleman made no remark on the subject. sanderson continued to urge his point with brinsmead, and used many arguments to induce him to allow jack deane to proceed north. at last, not a little to jack's satisfaction, brinsmead yielded his consent, provided jack would wish to accept the offer. "what say you, mr deane, will you take a trip into the land o' cakes, and make a purchase of three hundred head of cattle for mr strelley? you will have the driving of the beasts south, and have the pleasure of seeing good honest meat and fat put on their bones in our rich water-meadows before many months have passed away after their arrival." jack had had time to consider the matter, and without hesitation accepted the offer, believing that in a short conversation with pearson he could soon clear up the mystery. "i should be on my guard," he thought to himself, "more than would brinsmead, who does not suspect him, and thus i think i shall better be able to look after the interests of my master mr strelley." when a person desires to do a thing, it is very easy to find excuses, and as easy to lull the conscience asleep, and hide the consequences which may be the result. it was finally arranged that jack should start the next morning in company with the respectable mr allan sanderson, brinsmead purposing to follow at a slower pace in the course of the day. jack was aroused next morning by the sound of his quondam acquaintance calling him to "boot and saddle," and to be off. slipping on his clothes, he went to the bedside of will brinsmead, who was still sleeping soundly, to tell him that he was summoned to be off. "ah, lad, the scotchmen keep early hours," said will, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "the dawn has scarcely broke, surely. he is right, though, thou hast a long ride before thee, and it's as well to be off by times, though it would have been prudent to lay in a store of provender before you depart; however, two or three hours' ride before breakfast will do thee no harm, lad. and now, master deane, i have a word to say before you leave me. thou hast a fair opening, lad, and an important commission to execute. take this advice from an old man. keep your own counsel on all occasions. judge which is best for your master's interests, and let nothing turn you aside from following that out. avoid quarrelling with any one, and let no one pick a quarrel with thee. mr sanderson seems a fair-spoken man, but there's one thing i would have you remember, that he is not jock mckillock himself. jock i have known well-nigh a score of years, and an honest and fair dealer, as i doubt not thou wilt find, if he is afoot and well again when you get to the north. and now, fare-thee-well, john deane, an old man's blessing go with thee! thou hast shown thyself to be ready-witted and brave, and if thou rememberest always that it is better to please god than man, thou wilt not fail to succeed in thy undertakings." with these words the old man put on his clothes, and accompanying jack down-stairs, assisted him in getting his horse ready for his journey. "weel, weel, laddy, you're o'er long in mounting your nag!" shouted master sanderson. "i am ready for you now, at all events," answered jack, as he threw himself into his saddle, and once more shook hands with brinsmead. "stop, stop, mr sanderson, you be off without your stirrup-cup!" exclaimed the landlord, who at that moment appeared at the door with a tankard in his hand. "such doings are never allowed at my house, however early in the morning my guests depart. it will do thee good, man, and help to keep the cold mists of our fen-country out of thy throat this morning; and thou, lad, must not break through our rules, either," he said, turning to jack, who, it must be confessed, took the proffered tankard and drained its contents, then touching the flank of his horse with his spur, and giving a farewell wave of the hand to honest old brinsmead, rode after his new acquaintance nothing loath. chapter thirteen. jack and pearson's journey to the north, and how jack was employed on the road. the sky was clear overhead, and a damp mist was swept by a south-east wind over the face of the country. jack and the scotchman rode on till they were clear of the village without speaking. "i am glad to have you in my company, master deane," said the latter, now for the first time throwing off all disguise. "i am obliged to you," said jack. "i knew you, master pearson, the moment i saw you." "so i thought," was the answer. "when we parted at cambridge, i was not certain in which character i should come to saint faith's. however, you might have found it difficult to come north without me, and i therefore have made arrangements to accompany you." "but why this masquerading, master pearson?" asked jack. "mr harwood's recommendation makes me place confidence in you, but i tell you frankly, i would rather know more about you than i do!" "very sensibly spoken," said pearson, laughing. "the state of the times makes `masquerading,' as you call it, necessary; but of one thing you may be sure, that i mean you fair; i will treat you honourably. had i not given you warning, you would have returned to nottingham, and have been clapped probably into the stocks; for depend upon it some of the country gentlemen round would have been too glad to get hold of your father's son, and by punishing him, keep in awe others of less degree." "i am sure you mean me well," said jack, whose disposition made him unsuspicious of others. "but we shall pass within a short distance of nottingham, and i should like to go and pay them a visit during the evening, when the darkness will prevent me being recognised, just to tell them where i am going, and what i propose doing." "oh, master brinsmead will do that in a few days!" answered the northern drover; "depend upon it there are some on the watch for you, and you would run a considerable risk in returning home, even for a short time." jack thought this very likely, and did not press the point, but suddenly another idea occurred to him. "i might surely visit harwood grange?" he observed; "no one would be looking for me there, and i should like to see mr harwood and gain some information respecting the persons to whom i am to deliver these letters." "i will think about that, my lad, as we ride on," answered pearson. "our direct road will take us a good deal to the east of sherwood forest, and your visit to the grange would cause considerable delay. i do not at present see that this is necessary, though, to be sure, you may have some attraction there with which i am not acquainted." he gave a peculiar glance as he spoke, which drew the colour into his companion's cheeks. jack was mounted on a strong, active nag, but he soon found that it was very inferior in speed to the one pearson bestrode, and frequently he had to use whip and spur to keep up with him. "we must get you another beast," observed the latter; "it will make the difference of two or three days to us in our journey, and i always like to know that my friend is mounted on as good a steed as i am when we ride together. we know not the moment when we may have to try the metal of them both." "if that's the animal you were riding when i met you between nottingham and cambridge, it's a good one," observed jack, remembering the leap he had seen pearson take, and the speed with which he had afterwards gone over the ground. "ay, the very same," answered pearson; "black bess and i seldom part company. i would have no other person bestride her; and i doubt whether she would allow it, if any one were to make the attempt." "but this horse belongs to mr strelley," said jack; "i have no business to change it for another." "oh, i will settle that matter," answered pearson; "you will accept the loan of one from me, and i will send your nag to meet old will as he comes west. in a couple of hours we will stop to breakfast at the house of an old friend of mine, and i have no doubt that we shall find a steed in his stables just suited for you." at the time master pearson specified, they drew up before a farm-house a little off the high-road. a sign, however, swinging over the door showed that occasional entertainment was afforded there also to man and beast. the landlord, who had very few of the characteristics of a boniface, being a tall, thin, hard-featured man, received pearson as an old acquaintance, and, the horses being sent to the stables, ushered them into a small oak parlour, intended for the accommodation of his private guests. "we may here rest without the risk of being observed," said pearson to deane, as he threw himself into a chair. "a wise man will not make more confidants than are necessary, and will not let the rest of the world know what he is about or where he is going. we will have some refreshment, and then i will go and search for a better steed than yours, which shall be returned in due course to your employer." pearson having intimated to the host that refreshment would be required, it was quickly placed on the table; and, like a man who knew not when he might have another opportunity of feeding, he applied himself to the viands, advising his companion to do the same. this jack did with right good will; and the meal being despatched, pearson advised him to amuse himself as best he could in the room, while he went out to look for a horse fit, as he said, for jack to ride. deane could not help feeling puzzled at times at the caution his companion considered necessary to use. still, so little accustomed was he to the world, that it did not occur to him that he was otherwise than a respectable character, with whom he was perfectly safe in consorting. he paced the room without finding any thing to amuse himself with. not a book on a shelf, nor a picture on the wall. a sanded floor, a dark oak table, several benches, a chair of large proportions, used probably for the president at clubs of convivial meetings; with a few of smaller size, completed the furniture of the oak-wainscoted room. he was not, however, kept very long before pearson returned, telling him that he had procured a horse on which his saddle was to be placed; and jack, going out into the stable-yard, found a man leading up and down a fine, strongly-built steed, which, if not possessing all the points of which pearson's own horse could boast, was evidently an animal well capable of performing a rapid and long journey at a stretch. "the account is settled; and now let us mount and be off," said pearson, throwing himself into his saddle, and, having whispered a few words into the ears of their ill-favoured host, he put spurs to his horse, and with jack by his side quickly left the village behind. jack was highly pleased with the paces of his new acquisition, and soon saw that he should be able to push on over the ground at far greater speed than when he had his own steady-going nag under him. in a short time, coming to a fine open, grassy piece of land, he could not resist the temptation of putting spurs to the animal's side, and starting off for a gallop. pearson shouted after him to stop; but jack found it no easy matter to rein in his steed. on turning his head, he found that the drover was following him; and, though he fancied that he himself was going at full gallop, his companion was quickly alongside him. "that is very like a young man, but not the act of a wise one!" said pearson. "you should always keep your horse's strength for an emergency on a long journey. his limbs are supple enough, i'll warrant; there was no necessity for trying them just now." "i could not help it," said jack, tugging at the same time at the rein. "the animal has mettle enough for any thing, i should think." "i see that i must help you," said pearson, "or you will not bring that animal up in a hurry, till you have well-nigh sawn his mouth in two. so-ho! rover!" he cried out, adding a few cabalistical-sounding words. in an instant the animal threw himself on his haunches, so suddenly indeed, as nearly to unseat his rider. he was too good a horseman though to be played such a trick. "the beast is no stranger to you, master pearson," he observed. "no; he has carried me over many a mile," was the answer. "i would not wish to put you on an animal i had not tried. and now we will make play over this ground, though at more moderate speed than you were going at just now." they found accommodation for the night in a small roadside inn. on the next day, when passing through grantham, as the travellers were approaching the open square of the market-place, they observed a large crowd collected round a person elevated above their heads on the top of a huge cask or table, so it appeared. he was throwing out his arms in every direction. now pressing his hands together, now lifting them towards heaven in the attitude of prayer. most of his auditors seemed to be listening to him with rapt attention. as they drew nearer, jack, on looking at the countenance of the speaker, was convinced that it was no other than the independent preacher whom he had met in company with master pearson. from the words which fell from his mouth it was difficult to ascertain what principles he was inculcating. he was speaking at the moment of some wonderful dream with which he had been favoured by heaven. he was warning the people of the dreadful calamities which he knew, in consequence of what he had seen in his vision, were about to fall upon the land. he seemed, however, to be dealing out tolerably even-handed justice towards all other denominations. he had nothing in its favour to say of protestant episcopacy, and as little of romanism. he was hurling abuse at presbyterianism, and warning the independents that their day of grace had passed, that they were no longer holding up a standard in israel, while he condemned the baptists for maintaining unscriptural doctrines. "woe! woe! woe!" he shouted, "woe to this country! woe to this people! listen, ye stiff-necked and stubborn generation! a new revelation is about to be vouchsafed to you; will you receive it, or will you refuse it? those who are ready to receive it will hold up their hands, and shout with joy at the thoughts of their emancipation from the slavery under which ye have hitherto groaned in the bonds of bitterness and the darkness of despair! those who have made up their minds not to receive it must take their departure from among us, and go back to the place whence they came, there to await till summoned to go down into the pit full of fire and brimstone, already boiling up to welcome them!" no one moved from among the crowd, the greater number of whom held up their hands, as invited by the speaker, and gave way to a shrill cry, which swelled by degrees into a loud ringing shout, which was repeated again and again. jack, to satisfy himself, asked pearson if he knew the name of the speaker. "i know his name, master deane," answered his companion: "you must ask the bystanders if they know it. they will probably tell you that it's the reverend simon stirthesoul, one of the newest of new lights who have appeared in the kingdom in this favoured reign. there are many such; and of great advantage will they prove to the spiritual welfare of the people. they have an especial work, it seems to me, to show that all the old forms of worship are wrong, and invent as many new ones as their imaginations can devise. wherever they spring from, they're serving the pope of rome well, for the more the protestants are divided, the better will it be for his faithful children in this realm of england." jack wished to stop and hear more of the remarks made by the preacher, but to this pearson objected, observing that he did not wish to delay, and that they would bait their steeds a few miles beyond the town, at a roadside inn. pearson expressed a more important truth than he himself was aware of at the time. from the time of elizabeth up to that period, a number of popish priests, chiefly jesuits, had been introduced into the country under various disguises, having received dispensations from the pope to act any part they might consider most advisable for the establishment of new and strange doctrines; thus dividing protestant interests. there is undoubted evidence of this. most of these men, well trained in foreign universities, accustomed to the ways of the world, were admirably fitted for the part they were destined to perform. some pretended to be episcopalians, others presbyterians, and others nonconformists of all denominations. many exerted their talents in the invention of new sects, and they were certain to gain proselytes, being well versed in the study of human nature. they knew thoroughly how to adapt the principles they advocated, and the tenets they taught, to the tastes of their hearers, and there can be no doubt that the rise of the many strange sects which appeared at different times, from the accession of elizabeth, was owing to the efforts of these popish emissaries. a considerable number were from time to time apprehended, and found possessed of treasonable documents, proving that they were papists in disguise. some indeed were executed in consequence of having been found guilty of treasonable practices, while others narrowly escaped the same fate. it seemed but probable, from his connexion with the jacobites, that the reverend simon stirthesoul was one of these disguised plotters. "i gave you a packet of letters from mr harwood," observed pearson, as they were standing in the evening at their inn. "if you look over them, i shall be able to tell you the best route to take in order to call on the persons to whom they are directed. your friend made it a great point that you should deliver them in person, and i am sure that he is a gentleman you would wish to oblige." he fixed his keen glance at jack as he spoke. "the greater number are, i see, directed to gentlemen in yorkshire. you may well consider it an honour to be so employed. sir herbert willington, i see; colonel slingsby, joe hovingham of hovingham hall, master haxby of haxby grange, are all good men and true. in northumberland too, i see you have a few to oxminston, and widdrington. it will take you some time to get through them all, for they're not men who let you come to their door and ride away again without showing you hospitality. it will give more time to jock mckillock to get the herd together." deane made many inquiries of his companion with regard to the character of the people on whom he was to call, and he was somewhat surprised to find that they were all strong jacobites, the greater number indeed being romanists. still, his suspicions were not sufficiently aroused to make him refuse to deliver them. this would of course have been the wisest thing to have done. he was, in truth, anxious in every way to please mr harwood. he still continued to indulge in dreams of some day winning the fair alethea. he very naturally thought that if he could please her father, he would have less difficulty in so doing. the horse pearson had selected for deane showed wonderful speed and bottom, and seemed scarcely fatigued when, between sunrise and sunset, he had gone over the best part of a hundred miles. when once in yorkshire they proceeded at a somewhat slower pace, having somewhat longer time to rest at the houses at which they called. on these occasions, pearson assumed the character of jack's servant, and invariably accompanied the horses to the stables, and stayed during the visit with the grooms and other servants. he was not idle, however, though he might have appeared to be so. he lost no opportunity of making inquiries as to what was going on in the neighbourhood, as well as informing himself of the proceedings of their masters. jack had no cause to complain of any want of hospitality on the part of those to whom he delivered mr harwood's letters, but in several instances he was received with an air of stiffness and formality which showed that full confidence was not placed in him. indeed, when on one or two occasions he was cross-questioned, having really no information to give, he was speedily again dismissed. he received, however, several letters in return, which he was especially directed to deliver in person to mr harwood. on looking at the covers, he was surprised to find that no superscription was placed on them. "never mind," was the answer, "you know for whom they are intended. keep them securely, and the object we have in view will be attained." he mentioned, at length, the circumstance to pearson. "it's all right," he replied; "a letter without an address, provided the bearer knows to whom he is to deliver it, is safer in these perilous times than a letter with one. keep them carefully, master deane, and mr harwood will be duly grateful to you when you deliver them." as they advanced north, pearson invariably left the high-road to seek for quarters at some distance from it during the night. before lying down to sleep on these occasions, he never failed to visit the stables. jack observed also that he remained booted and spurred during the night. generally before daybreak they were again in the saddle, and proceeding at a rapid rate on their road. the cheviots were already in sight, when one morning pearson roused up jack. "to horse, my lad, to horse!" he exclaimed. "if you wish to retain your liberty, or your life indeed, you will put a hundred miles between you and the cheviots before sundown. i have just had the information brought me, that you have been accused of delivering letters to disaffected persons, and that a plot has been discovered for dethroning the present king and bringing back king james. as i did not see the letters which you had to deliver, i cannot say how far the accusation is just, but to you it will come to the same thing. i have so far led you into the scrape by giving you the letters, and i have resolved to bear you company; for i doubt, without me, that you would manage to escape." "this is bad news indeed," exclaimed jack, sitting up in bed, and beginning to dress as rapidly as he could. "but if i go south, how shall i be able to execute mr strelley's commission? what will jock mckillock do with the cattle he has brought thus far on the way? and what am i to do with the money with which i was to pay for them?" "i have thought of all that, my friend," answered pearson. "give me the money, and i will settle the matter with jock mckillock, and the cattle shall be driven south as safely as if you were at their tails." jack could not help feeling considerable hesitation as to the propriety of yielding to pearson's proposal. honest and unsuspicious as he was himself, great doubt had crossed his mind as to the character of his companion. to be sure, if he persisted in continuing his journey, and endeavouring to meet jock mckillock, he very likely might be apprehended, and in that case he would certainly lose the money in his possession; but then if pearson was not honest, it would equally be lost. the latter saw by the working of his countenance, the doubts that were crossing his mind. "you hesitate to give me the cash," he observed. "you are perfectly right; at the same time, i promise you that it shall be properly spent for the advantage of your employer. oaths are like pie-crusts, too often only made to be broken, therefore i will not swear what i will do: but accept the promise of a man who wishes you well, and you will have no cause to regret having trusted me." jack at length, seeing that there was no help for it, agreed to pearson's proposal, and, though not without some reluctance, handed him over the money for the proposed purchase of cattle. "it is safer in my pocket than in yours, let me tell you, master deane," said pearson, as he stowed it away in his leathern pouch. "there breathes not the man on either side of the border who would attempt to take it from me." chapter fourteen. adventures at the hagg. "there is ne'er use fashing yourself, my young friend, about the matter," observed pearson, in his usual unconcerned manner, "many as pretty a man as yourself has been in a far worse difficulty, and my advice now to you is to make the best of it. i could hide you away among the mountains in the north, where, should every man in dutch william's army be sent out on the search, they could not find you; but, i'm thinking, a lad of your spirit would not be altogether satisfied with that sort of life. better far come with me south. there will soon be work for you to do in that quarter, such as will be more suitable to your taste, i'm thinking, than following at the heels of a drove of bullocks. i own a dairy-farm in the fens of lincolnshire, where i have a wife and daughter, and am known as a steady, quiet-going farmer, who, may be, has a little better notion about horse-flesh than his neighbours, and bestrides occasionally a fleeter steed than most of them. no one would think of looking for me there, nor will they for you, or, if they did, it would be no easy job to find us. for that matter, indeed (your vanity will not be offended, i hope, when i say it), your countenance has so little remarkable about it, and so few people know you, that you might safely go to london without the slightest risk of detection. you should understand that some friends of ours may ask you to undertake a commission of importance in the metropolis, and i would advise you not to refuse it. all your expenses will be paid; and if you prove trustworthy and discreet, it will lead to your further advantage." "you have proposed so much to me, master pearson, that i am rather confused, and must think a little before i reply," answered jack. "you tell me that information has been laid against me for delivering treasonable letters between persons desirous of overturning the present order of things and of restoring king james to the throne, and that if i am not very careful i shall be taken and imprisoned, and perhaps hung. now, even though i have really been accused, as you have heard, of treason, i am sure that i can have no difficulty in proving my innocence. i was not aware of the contents of the letters i delivered, and have certainly no wish to overturn the present government." "very possibly, my young friend," remarked pearson; "but it will avail you nothing to say that you did not know the contents of the letters, or that you did not do this or that. you must confess to having delivered the letters, and you cannot prove that you did not know their contents and are not anxious to support the cause they advocate. judges and juries require proofs of a man's innocence. can you give proofs of yours? that is the question, master deane. besides, let me ask you, suppose a certain young lady, who shall be nameless, were to promise you the best reward she can bestow, if you will join heart and hand in the cause her father supports, what reply would you make--eh, my lad?" "you seem to know every thing, master pearson!" exclaimed jack, somewhat annoyed at his companion's familiarity, and not wishing to give a direct answer. "with regard to the probability of my being unable to prove my innocence of the accusations which may be brought against me, i acknowledge that you are right; but with respect to other matters, it is no man's business to interfere." "of course, master john deane, you are the best judge in your own affairs. i gave you but the advice of a friend," answered pearson: "what motive can i have to speak otherwise? but again let me remind you, that if you venture within the lion's jaws it will be no easy matter to get you out again. be wise, then, put yourself under my guidance, and you will be safe. go your own gait, and you will find yourself shut up in prison, or, maybe, run your head into the noose. however, an obstinate man is not to be persuaded." "but i am not an obstinate man," said jack; "i believe that your advice is kindly intended, and i beg that you will understand i do not reject it. i only ask time to think over the matter, that i may decide what course i should pursue." it was not without a considerable amount of vexation and disappointment that deane found himself galloping away to the south, instead of proceeding, as he had hoped, over the border into scotland. he felt some doubt, also, as to whether he had acted wisely in confiding so completely to pearson; and he also regretted having allowed himself to be made a tool, as it appeared too evident that he had been, of the jacobite party. still he did not blame mr harwood, and thought that probably some of the other gentlemen whom he had visited were the cause of the accusation being brought against him. though pearson pressed him to proceed south, he did not object to the proposal jack made of visiting harwood grange on his way. "it is the best thing you can do," he observed. "you can then in person deliver the letters you have received, and he may better be able to explain matters to you than i am, and he will also advise what steps to take that you may clear yourself from the accusation which has been brought against you." jack's heart beat at the thought of the proposed visit. the inconvenience and disappointment which he had gone through, seemed as nothing when he contemplated again seeing alethea. it did not occur to him that he was rushing into a trap in which he was very likely to lose his liberty altogether. they had proceeded about forty or fifty miles to the south, when a horseman was seen approaching them. he drew up as he reached pearson, and exchanged greetings with him. he then turning round, and allowing jack to go on out of ear-shot, the two rode alongside each other. in the course of ten minutes or so they again overtook jack. "mr deane," said pearson, "i have fortunately met a friend who knows the country well, and will prove a good guide to you. he is willing to return south, that i may ride to the north and make the arrangements which you were to have done with our friend jock mckillock, for the purchase of the cattle. there is no time to be lost, and i assure you that you may trust my friend as you would me." without any further remark, pearson shook jack by the hand, and, wheeling round his horse, galloped away to the north, while the stranger rode on alongside jack. as jack glanced at his companion, it struck him that he had seen him before, but where, or under what circumstances, he in vain attempted to discover. he was a strongly-built, active-looking man, considerably younger than pearson, with a determined look and expression in his countenance which jack did not altogether like. he did not seem either much inclined for conversation, and answered briefly all the questions which deane put to him. "i think we have met before," said jack. "it's very likely," was the reply; "but you have the advantage of me, if you know where it was, for i see so many people in the course of a day, that it would be a difficult matter for me to recollect those i have met once in a way. i will give you a useful piece of advice, however: remember, the fewer questions you ask, the less likely you will be to have falsehoods told you. you have a long ride before you, and you will be wiser if you save your breath, instead of wasting it in talking." it is hopeless to enter into conversation with one who is determined not to speak. jack found this to be the case, his companion generally only answering in monosyllables to all the remarks he made. when, at length, they stopped at nightfall at a farm-house, similar to those which pearson had selected on their way north, his companion pursued the same system, exchanging only a few words with the people of the house, and scarcely speaking to him all the evening. as pearson had done, he visited the stables several times to see that the horses were well cared for, evidently considering it as important as did his friend, that they should be in a fit condition for a hard gallop. they travelled, indeed, a couple of days before jack discovered the name of his companion. he at length heard him spoken to as master burdale. "yes, that's my name," he said, when jack addressed him as such; "i am known here and elsewhere as ned burdale, at your service." jack at last became heartily tired of his companion's society: at the same time he had to confess to himself that there was nothing particularly with which he could find fault about the man, except his sulky silence. with great satisfaction deane at length caught sight of the well-remembered patches of woodland scenery by which he knew that he was once more within the ancient boundaries of sherwood forest. he now, for the first time, told ned burdale of his intention of visiting harwood grange. "my directions were to conduct you to master pearson's farm in the fens," said his companion. "i cannot be answerable for your safety if you part company from me." "i have no desire to do so," said jack; "but if you will accompany me to the grange, as soon as i have delivered my message to mr harwood, i shall be ready to set forward to the place you speak of." "remember, then, it's at your own risk," said his companion. "i have my reasons for not wishing to go there myself, but i will wait for you at a farm which we shall reach in a couple of hours, and from thence you can ride over to the grange. i would advise you to go there in the evening, to avoid being seen by the people in the neighbourhood. we can send a messenger on before to the squire, that he may be on the watch for you. take my advice: don't allow a bright eye and a rosy cheek to detain you there longer than is necessary." jack, being unable to suggest any better arrangement, was compelled to be contented with his companion's proposal. putting spurs to their horses, they galloped on through the forest. now they had to pass several miles of cleared country; then again they came to more forest-land. now they passed over a wild piece of heath; then through dingle and dale, and thick copses, and along the banks of a stream, avoiding the high-road as much as possible, and making their way wherever they could across the country. at length they entered a thicker part of the forest than any they had hitherto passed through. "we shall soon be at the farm," observed burdale. "we will take a day's rest then for the sake of our steeds; for though at a push they would have gone twice as far without knocking up, it's as well to give them a holiday where it can be done." at length a grey-stone tower, with a building attached to it, round which ran a broad balcony, appeared in sight. it had evidently been a hunting-lodge in olden times, and from the balcony ladies fair used to shoot with cross-bow, or, perhaps, in later times with fire-arms, at the deer as they were driven past. an old man and woman, apparently as old as the building itself, came forth at the sound of the horses' hoofs. they looked somewhat askance at jack, but welcomed burdale as an acquaintance. "you can give us shelter for the night, master rymer, i hope," he said, jumping from his horse. "here, i will help look after the steeds, while your dame shows my companion the way into your house." the old couple continued to cast somewhat doubtful glances at jack. "have no fear," said burdale; "he is of the right sort, and no risk of his peaching, even if he did find out any thing he should not know." with this assurance, as soon as jack dismounted, the old man took his horse, and accompanied burdale round the tower to the stables. the dame, meantime, beckoned to jack to follow her. a flight of dilapidated stone steps led them up to the entrance-hall, which occupied the whole of one floor of the tower. a rough stair led to another floor above it; and jack observed the top of a flight of steps of more pretensions, descending apparently to chambers below. "sit down, young sir," said the dame, pointing to an old oak chair. "thou wilt be hungry after thy long ride; and i will prepare a steak for you and ned burdale." the view from the window of the tower was confined on all sides by the forest, through which, however, here and there glades opened out for some distance, up which, in former days, the deer were accustomed to sweep by, and afford an opportunity to fair dames and lords to exercise their skill with their fowling-pieces. already the sun was sinking beneath the tops of the trees; and jack began to fear that he should not have time to reach harwood grange before the night altogether closed in. he waited impatiently, therefore, for the return of burdale, purposing to set off immediately his horse should have had its food and enjoyed a short rest. his companion, however, was longer than he expected, and by the time he arrived the meal prepared by the old dame was almost ready. "take my advice," said burdale: "remain here quietly to-night, and to-morrow you will be able to visit the grange, and give our horses sufficient time to rest, that we may continue our journey into lincolnshire. the distance from this to the grange is far greater than you suppose: you could not reach it till an hour or more after dark, and you would scarcely be able to find your way back through the forest by yourself." unwilling as jack was to give up his purpose of paying a visit to his friends that evening, he was compelled to comply with his companion's wishes, for burdale gave him to understand very clearly that he had no intention of accompanying him. a substantial meal of venison-steaks, wheaten bread, and oaten cakes, to which jack was nothing loath to do ample justice, was soon placed on the table. "come, master rymer, you can find us a flagon of wine, too, and of the best, i know that," said burdale. "come, man, rummage out your stores, you used not to be niggard of your liquor." the old man, after some hesitation, pretended or real, took a bunch of keys, and descended the stairs to the chamber beneath the hall. he soon returned with a flagon of wine, which his guests pronounced to be excellent. burdale drank freely himself, and pressed jack to imitate his example. being generally temperate, jack found at length that he had taken more wine than was his wont, and began to feel an unusual drowsiness stealing over him. the old couple kept up a conversation with ned burdale, seemingly somewhat indifferent of jack's presence. now and then they addressed him. "you belong to these parts, do you?" asked the old man, fixing his keen glance on jack. "i was born and bred in nottingham," answered jack. "and never been out here at the hagg before?" "no," said jack, "i never heard of the place before." "well, to be sure it's a good long distance from the town, and away from all high-roads. you would have a hard job to find it, even if you were looking for it, i suspect." "you have a bold heart, i hope," said the old woman, "for those who spend a night in this house require one." "i am not much given to be afraid," answered jack, laughing; "but what makes you say that?" "why, for a good reason: because the old tower is haunted. we didn't like it when we first came here, but we've got accustomed to it. there was an old family lived here in the time of charles, the king whose head was cut off, when all the men of the family lost their lives in the civil wars, and the ladies died of broken hearts, or something of that sort. at all events, the old tower was left deserted, and for many years no one came to live in it. at length, one family came to try and see how it would suit them, but they very soon gave up; and then another and another rented the farm, and tried to stop in the tower, but they could not stand the sights they saw, or the sounds they heard, and threw it up, one after the other. at last my good man and i came here. we were told before what we were to expect, and so we made up our minds for the worst. well, the very first night we came, as we were sitting here at supper, just as we may be now, we heard the ghosts of the family to whom the tower had belonged all talking away below us. sometimes it was an old man's voice, then a young girl's, and then the voice of a strong man of middle age, and then a youth, maybe, like yourself, and young children. it was curious to hear them go on in that way. we could not make out what they said exactly, but there was a change in the tone of their voices, just as clearly as if they had been in the room with us. as to sights, i cannot say that we saw any thing; and i'm not ashamed to confess it, neither my good man nor i felt inclined to go into the chamber below, to have a look at the ghosts. they went on talking for some hours, till we heard them scuffling off to bed, so it seemed, and we therefore followed their example. this went on, as i say, night after night. i need not tell you what we saw when we did see any thing, but i will just advise you to be prepared, should you hear any strange noises; and provided you don't go and interfere with the ghosts, depend upon it they will let you alone." "thank you," answered jack, "for the advice. i never yet have met a ghost, though maybe i shall some day, and if i do i intend to treat it with all due respect." "you had better treat the ghosts here in that way," observed burdale, with a peculiar glance at jack; "i have heard of them before, and i am sure they would not like any one to interfere with them." "oh, yes," said the old woman, "we have ghosts inside the house and out of it too. did you mark that big old oak, as you rode up to the door? they say there's a ghost lives inside it, of some man who was murdered under its branches years gone by. how he do groan at night sometimes! it has been the same ever since we came here. at first i could not sleep for listening to him, and thinking what a pain he was in: just like the pains of souls in purgatory." this remark made jack suspect that his hosts were romanists. he could hear very little more about the ghost in the old oak, but he promised next morning to examine the tree, and ascertain in which part of it the spirit resided. "you had better let he alone," observed the old man; "these sort of gentry don't like anybody to come and pry after them. that's what i think; and so i have let them alone, and he has never come to do me any harm." the guide and the two old people talked on for a considerable time; but gradually to jack's ears their voices grew less and less distinct, till his head dropped on the table, and he fell fast asleep. how long he had been asleep he could not tell, but when he awoke he found himself stretched on a pile of straw in a corner of the great hall, so it appeared to him, but no light was burning, and it was with difficulty he could distinguish objects by means of the streaks of moonlight which came through the chinks of the shutters. he had not been many minutes awake before he heard voices. they were certainly not those of the old people or of burdale, and they appeared to come from below him. he listened attentively. he had no doubt that they were human voices he heard; in earnest conversation, too. now high, now low; now the voice was that of a strong, hale man; now that of one shaking with age; now of a bold, eager youth; now several seemed to be speaking together. the tales he had heard that night recurred to his mind. could it be possible that these were the spirits of the departed owners of the hagg? again he listened, to assure himself that he had not been misled by fancy. he sat up and rubbed his eyes--still the voices reached his ears. he was constitutionally brave. "i will not be mocked by real ghosts or pretended spirits," he said to himself, springing to his feet. he felt for his weapons. his pistols were in his belt and his knife was by his side. he looked about him, and ascertained the position of the doors in the room. "i can find my way to the top of the stairs which i saw led down into the vaults below," he said to himself, "and i can easily grope my way down-stairs, and find out what these ghosts really are." to think was to act with him. the moonlight enabled him to find his way with greater ease even than he had expected, and on reaching the top of the stairs he was more sure than ever that people were talking below. holding a pistol in one hand, he felt his way with the other, descending the stone steps, careful to make his footing sure before he advanced again. he thus, without breaking his neck, reached the bottom, when not only did he hear the voices more distinctly and catch many of the words which were spoken, but he saw a bright light shining through a chink of a door before him. he approached the door in the hope of being able to see through the chink, but this he found was impossible. as, however, he was pressing against the door, it flew open, and what was his amazement to see between two and three dozen people, either sitting or standing round a long table, with many others, strongly armed, scattered about the vault! the noise made by the door as it flew open was heard by the assembly, and several men sprang forward and seized him ere he could make his retreat. "an eavesdropper!" exclaimed one. "we are betrayed!" cried another. "his mouth must be stopped," muttered a third. "it would be safer to kill him at once," growled another. "what has brought you here?" asked a fine, dignified looking man, in a handsome costume of somewhat antique fashion. "i am a traveller, and put up here on my way to the fens," answered jack. "i do not wish to injure any one, but hearing voices, and having been told that the house was haunted, i came to see whence they could proceed, not believing that ghosts could make such a racket as disturbed my rest." "the lad is no spy, or he would not speak as frankly as he does," observed the gentleman. "i can answer for his honesty," said another person, whom jack had not hitherto noticed, rising from his seat and advancing towards him. "he is ready to serve in a right cause and be of use to his country." jack on looking towards the speaker discovered that he was no other than mr harwood. "thank you, sir," he said, "for your good opinion of me. i was, in truth, on my way to visit you, to give an account of the mode in which i have executed your commissions, and i'm sure that you will bear witness that i am not addicted to telling falsehoods." "a brave lad, and worth winning for a good cause!" exclaimed the gentleman who had first spoken. "mr harwood having answered for your fidelity, you will be put to no inconvenience about this matter, but as we have affairs of importance to discuss, and the night is drawing on apace, you must go back to your bed, and try to persuade yourself that what you have seen is merely a dream which you are not at liberty to mention to any one." "though we have met here, mr deane, i shall be glad to see you at the grange, to speak to you more at large than i can now," said mr harwood, as he shook jack by the hand. accompanied by two of the persons present, jack returned once more to the room above, where, having advised him to go to sleep instead of listening to the voices of the ghosts, they left him. he wisely endeavoured to follow their advice. chapter fifteen. jack again visits harwood grange. the next morning when the old couple and burdale made their appearance, they did not in any way allude to what had taken place during the night, as if they had been totally ignorant of it. breakfast was got ready by the aged dame; and afterwards jack stole about the building, and found his way without difficulty into the vault below. not a trace of any of the occupants of the previous evening was to be seen, but how they had gone he could not discover. certainly they had not come up by the steps by which he had descended, and passed through the hall. as the afternoon approached, jack became more impatient than ever to pay his proposed visit to harwood grange. mr harwood had spoken so kindly to him, that he could not help hoping he would not reject him as a son-in-law. at length the hour fixed by burdale for starting arrived, and jack eagerly threw himself into the saddle. "why, your horse partakes of your spirit," observed his companion, as, clapping his spurs in the horse's side, jack galloped over the greensward at a rate which put his guide's steed on his mettle. he would willingly have gone by himself, but unacquainted with that part of the forest, he would scarcely alone have found his way in the dark. a couple of hours' hard riding, sometimes across cultivated ground, and at others over what remained in a state of nature, brought him to the neighbourhood of the grange. leaving the horses with burdale, who promised to remain concealed with them under a thick clump of trees, he went towards the house on foot. jack found the squire waiting for him in a sheltered walk at a short distance from the house, and having delivered the messages and letters he had received from the various persons he had visited, gave him a full account of his adventures. "you have indeed managed admirably, my young friend," said mr harwood. "you would make a first-rate diplomatist, and i shall have very great satisfaction in recommending you to a good appointment for which your talents peculiarly fit you. you will find pearson thoroughly trustworthy, and as he advises you to stay for a short time with him in his farm in the fens, i would advise you to accept his invitation. you will meet persons there who will be able to forward your interests, and you will besides find ample amusement of various sorts during your stay. you will come in now, and take some refreshment," he observed; "and my daughter alethea will be happy to welcome you. we may possibly have some visitors at supper, who are engaged in a certain important undertaking, but do not mention to them, and especially to my daughter, having met me last night. i know that i can trust you, but i am unwilling to implicate others in the matter i have in hand." as jack, in company with the squire, was about to enter the house, he saw a horseman ride out of the courtyard, and kissing his hand to alethea, who stood at a window overlooking the avenue, take the way towards nottingham. a second glance at the horseman, though already at some distance, convinced jack that he was his brother jasper. he loved his brother. his first impulse was to shout out to him, and to call him back, that he might make inquiries about home, but then, recollecting the accusations brought against him, he dreaded jasper's rebukes in the presence of the squire; and next, for the first time in his life, a feeling of jealousy stole over him. had jasper--the quiet, studious unassuming jasper--been paying court to the fair heiress of harwood grange? and how had alethea received him? the squire having stepped on in front to open a door, prevented him from asking any questions, and he presently found himself ushered into the hall. a shout from mr harwood brought alethea into the open gallery at one end of it; and seeing jack, she at once came down-stairs. she greeted him in a friendly way, and then, not without some embarrassment, told him that he had narrowly missed seeing his brother. "had i known of your coming, i would have begged him to stop and meet you," she said, looking, however, down on the floor as she spoke. "you will, however, probably overtake him if you go on to nottingham to-night, or you will see him with the rest of your family to-morrow." jack replied that circumstances would prevent him returning home. he naturally felt disinclined to tell alethea more of the truth than was necessary. they had little time for conversation before the servant announced that supper was ready, when two other persons were seen crossing the hall in the direction of the supper-room. "some friends i told you that you might possibly meet," observed the squire to jack, as they took their seats at the table. from the dress of the strangers, jack at once came to the conclusion that they were ecclesiastics or ministers of some denomination. when he glanced at the countenance of the man opposite to him, he had little doubt that he at least was a priest of the church of rome. the person had a somewhat pale face and hollow cheeks, with bright intelligent eyes, and thin, undemonstrative lips. his was one of those countenances formed rather to conceal than express the thoughts of the mind. the first words uttered by the other man, who sat by his side, made jack turn round to examine his features, for in the tones of his voice he recognised those of the reverend simon stirthesoul. he looked at him again and again. the form of the features was the same, but their expression was now very different. once jack caught him eyeing him, as he was bending down over his plate, and he felt sure, by the cunning expression of the man's face, that he was not mistaken. still master simon gave no other sign of recognition. his dress, though different from that which he had before worn, did not stamp him positively as a priest of rome, though its cut and colour were such as were generally worn by clericals in those days. each time the man spoke jack was more and more convinced that he was master simon stirthesoul. at the same time, so earnest was his application to the viands placed before him, that he did not indulge himself much in entering into conversation. that was chiefly kept up by alethea and jack's opposite neighbour, who devoted himself to her. his conversation indeed was agreeable, for he had visited many countries, and had shrewd remarks to make on all he had seen. jack at length heard him describing rome, and picturing the glories of the eternal city. "ah, miss harwood," he exclaimed, "there we have the blessing of pure religion, sanctioned by the authority of the ancient fathers, by the great apostle peter, and by councils, and by the infallible head of the church--the pope himself! what a blessing to have no dissent, no difference of opinion; all united in one brotherhood, under one loving father, and to be relieved of all care and responsibility, and to know that whatever the church decides is a right thing for us to believe!" from what the person said, jack had now no longer any doubt that he was a priest of rome; but the more he listened the less inclined he became to acknowledge the correctness of his assertion. jack watched alethea's countenance, and he could not help hoping that neither did she altogether agree with him. they seemed, however, to have more effect upon mr harwood, for whom, in all probability, they were equally intended. his fathers had been romanists, and he himself, though belonging to the church of england, had never very perfectly imbibed protestant truth. master stirthesoul made no remark, which surprised jack, as the doctrines put forth by the priest were diametrically opposed to those which that worthy had himself been a short time ago enunciating to the public. there was a twinkle occasionally in his eye, but that might have arisen from the pleasure with which he was discussing the viands placed before him, and jack could not discover whether he approved or not of the doctrines which were being laid down. still it was curious to find two persons of apparently different opinions so closely associated with each other, as it was evident was the case. jack all the time was longing to have some private conversation with alethea; but the other guests showed no inclination to take their departure; and he felt that he could not remain much longer, as his companion, burdale, would naturally be becoming impatient. he himself could not agree with the priest's remarks, plausible as they were. though he had not seen much of romanists, he had heard a good deal of what took place at rome, and believed truly that the union spoken of was very far from being real. he had heard, too, of a spanish army of roman catholics attacking rome, and of its being given up to them to pillage, they having treated the dignitaries of the church and the pope himself with even less respect than did their protestant brothers-in-arms. he had heard, too, that it was not proved that peter had ever been at rome, much less that he was a bishop of that city; and he was not altogether ignorant of the existence of the inquisition, and of the mode by which that institution endeavoured to support the church of rome and the dogmas it inculcated. the more the priest praised rome and its system, the more anxious jack became to speak to alethea on the subject, and to do away with any impression he might have made. he had a clear, straightforward way of looking at things, the characteristic of the best type of englishmen. he had been led into scrapes, he had done things for which he was sorry, and he was even now suffering the consequences of doing what was wrong, but instead of attempting to get out of the difficulty by twisting and turning and prevarication and falsehood, he always endeavoured to escape by going straightforward, boldly telling the truth, and, if needs be, doubling his fist, or drawing his sword and fighting his way out. thus the sophistries and arguments which he heard brought forward by the romish priest, far from having any effect upon him, made him more than ever inclined to oppose the system which rome endeavours to spread over the world. he still waited on in the hope that the two guests would take their departure, but they seemed in no way disposed to do so, and at length mr harwood remarked that the shades of evening were approaching, and that he would have some difficulty in finding his way through the forest, if he delayed much longer. this hint was too clear not to be taken, and, very reluctantly, he at length rose to pay his adieus to alethea. she wished him good-bye, expressing a hope to see him on his return to nottingham, in a friendly tone, but gave him no opportunity of saying any thing to her alone. he bowed to the two other guests, and mr harwood accompanied him to the door, pointing out to him the way he was to take to reach the spot where he had left his horse. "can she be aware of the character of those people," thought jack to himself, as he walked on through the wood, "or the plots which, it seems, are hatching? i wish mr harwood had nothing to do with them! i wonder how that he, a protestant gentleman, can engage in such a matter. i hope that i shall hear nothing of them where i am going; and i heartily wish i had not helped the enemies of our good protestant king by conveying those letters! still, what has been done cannot be undone; and having been trusted by mr harwood, i cannot attempt to give information of what, i fear, is taking place, even though i might enable him to escape. i suspect those two men i met just now are engaged in it. i like neither of them, least of all that hypocritical-looking master stirthesoul, as he called himself. i wish pearson had nothing to do with him. indeed, master pearson evidently knows a good deal about the plot; and i should be thankful if i was free of him also. but what can i now do? i am in his power; and if i were to go back to nottingham, i should be in difficulty about that poaching affair; while, if i offend him, he can at any moment inform against me for delivering those letters. well, i must go through with it, and wait patiently for the result." such thoughts occupied his mind till he reached the clump of trees within which he expected to find burdale and the horses. the shades of evening were already approaching, and a thick mass of brushwood, which grew outside, prevented him from seeing into the interior of the wood. he had to walk round some distance indeed before he could find an entrance. more than once he gave a whistle, the sign agreed on, without receiving any answer. the idea occurred to him that burdale had turned traitor, or, weary of waiting for him, had gone back with the horses. at length he shouted, "master burdale! master burdale! where are you?" he was at last relieved by seeing the man leading the horses towards him. "why, mr deane, you shouted loud enough to wake up robin hood and his merry men from their graves!" said his guide, as he came up. "it's to be hoped no strangers were passing whom we should not like to meet! you forgot the side of the wood where you left me. however, let us mount now and be off, for the night promises to be dark, and i should like to get into a part of the forest i know better than this while we have a little twilight to guide us." a ride through a forest in the dusk is a difficult matter, and dangerous withal, from the outstretched boughs overhead, and slippery roots, and holes beneath. fully three hours were occupied in reaching the hagg. "go in!" said burdale to jack, as they came in front of the old building. "i will take the horses round to the stables; and you will be welcome there." "i hope i may not see any more of the ghosts!" said jack: "i had enough of them last night." "as to that, i don't know," answered burdale; "but do you follow the old people's example, and let them alone, and they will let you alone, depend upon that!" some loud groans were heard above jack's head as he spoke, and he could not help starting, so melancholy and deep sounding were they. the next instant, however, he recollected the old woman's description of the haunted oak, and, looking round at the venerable tree, he had little doubt that the noise was produced by some branches moved by the wind, or else the passage of air through its hollow trunk. jack slept too soundly during the night to hear the conversation of the ghosts; but, on the following morning at his early breakfast, ere he and his guide took their departure, the old woman assured him that they had been talking as usual, making, if possible, even more uproar than she had ever before heard. "but what was it all about?" asked jack; "could not you hear that?" "no, no," she answered; "maybe they spoke in a tongue i cannot understand, for, though often and often i've listened, not one word could i ever make out!" chapter sixteen. residence in the fens of lincolnshire. the raw wind from the fens was driving the mist before it, and bending masses of willows, bulrushes, and tall sedges all one way--and that way right against the faces of deane and his guide, when they commenced their devious course across the marshes, within which master pearson's farm was situated. a dead level was before them, broken here and there only by a group of willows, or occasionally a few small trees which had taken root on patches of firmer ground than that with which they were surrounded, otherwise the horizon was as clear as that of the ocean. the whole country had a raw, cold, damp, and agueish look about it. it was any thing but tempting. "where is the farm?" asked jack, as he pulled up for an instant to survey the unpromising country before him. "some miles on," answered burdale. "it's lucky you have a man with you who knows the country, or you would have a bad job to get over it. if you were to ride straight on now, you would be up to your horse's ears in slush, with very little chance of ever getting out again alive. come, i'll show you the way; follow me. don't turn either to the right hand or to the left, or you will get into trouble!" saying this, burdale spurred on his somewhat unwilling horse, who seemed to understand the difficulties of the way before him. here and there, and scattered thickly on every side, were large patches of water, sometimes expanding into the size of lakes, while others were mere pools and puddles. now a patch of reeds was to be seen. in some places soft velvety grass, growing over, however, the most treacherous spots; now a group of low willows, scarcely six feet high; now a bed of osiers, barely three feet above the surface. there was scarcely a spot which offered any promise of ground sufficiently hard to enable the travellers to move out of the snail's pace at which they had hitherto been obliged to proceed. "well, this is about the worst country i ever rode over!" jack could not help exclaiming. "now, don't be grumbling, mr deane; if it affords you shelter, you may be grateful for it: and the country's not so bad after all. you should just see the pike which are caught in the rivers! they are larger than any you will see in the trent, i have a notion. there are sheep too here: larger and bigger animals, though somewhat awkward in their gait, than you will see throughout england; but they yield very lusty wool, let me tell you. and though, perhaps, you don't think much of the willows, of which you have passed a goodly number, they're very useful to the people who live here. there is an old proverb they have got--`a willow will buy a horse before an oak will buy a saddle.'" burdale, indeed, seemed to have a good deal of information to give about the fens; and jack could not help thinking that he must belong to the country, or, at all events, have lived a considerable time in it. indeed, no one but a person thoroughly acquainted with the nature of the ground could have managed to find his way across it. the water was soon over the horses' fetlocks, and here and there up to their knees. more than once jack could not help fearing that his guide had made a mistake, and that he was leading him into dangerous country; but he did not wish to show any suspicion of his judgment, and made no remark. again the horses rose up out of the slough across which they had been wading and enjoyed for a short time some hard ground; but they soon had to leave it, to wade on as before. on every side was heard the loud croaking of frogs; their heads poked up in all the shallower marshes, with the object, it seemed, of observing the travellers, and then their croaking became louder than ever, as if they were amusing themselves by talking about them. "we call those animals `holland-waits,'" observed burdale. "their king must look upon himself as fortunate, for he has got a large number of subjects; but they're not so bad as the midges. if you were to cross where we are on a hot day, with the sun broiling down on your head, you would wish you had a thick net over your face, for they do bite mortal hard!" burdale's horse seemed better accustomed to the country than was jack's. after having gone a considerable distance, he left jack some way behind. the marks of the horse's feet had immediately been lost, by the spongy ground returning to its former state. jack, however, thought there could be no difficulty in pushing on directly behind him. he had not, however, gone far before he found that, instead of following burdale's direction to turn neither to the right nor left, he had by some means got off the track. his horse began to flounder, and the more he floundered the more difficult it was to extricate himself. deeper and deeper he sank into the mire, till jack, fearing that he might lose him altogether, shouted out to burdale. burdale heard his voice at length, and hurried back to his assistance. jack had already got off his horse into the mud, hoping in that way to relieve the poor animal, but it did but little good, and he himself was also sticking fast! "here, catch hold of the end of this rope!" exclaimed burdale, as he threw one which was secured to his saddlebow. "i will haul you out; and then, maybe, we will get the horse free. you could not have followed my advice, or this would never have happened." happily, jack soon reached firm ground, and then he and burdale together managed to get out the unfortunate horse. "i must not in future let you get a foot behind me, master deane," said burdale. "you see that a man can as easily be lost in this fen-country as he could in a big forest, and now we must make the best of our way onward; the evening is advancing, and the night is growing desperately cold. it will require some good liquor to warm up our veins again." as soon as they got on dry ground, burdale, with a whisp of dry hay and grass, wiped down the horse's legs, and made him look in a more respectable condition than the mud of the marsh had left him in. burdale, standing up in his stirrups, looked round in every direction to ascertain that no one was approaching. "we're getting near master pearson's country," he observed, "and, as there are some sharp eyes on the look-out for him, we must take care not to betray his abode." hour after hour passed by, and still they seemed to have made but little progress across this inhospitable-looking country. now again a few mounds were seen just rising above the ground, which, burdale told his companion, were the huts of the inhabitants. "well, what sort of people can live here?" asked jack. "an odd sort, i must own; something between fish and geese. they must be waders, at all events. in some places they have boats in which they can get about: however, every place has its uses, and so has this, you will find out, before you have been here long!" at length, as the sun was about to sink beneath the long straight line behind their backs, jack saw before them what looked like a clump or two of trees which stood on a piece of ground a few feet above the dead level which surrounded it. objects, too, seemed to be moving about it, which he at length discovered to be horses and cattle. a more perfect rosamond's labyrinth could scarcely have been contrived than that to which the path they now followed led. before, however, they came in sight of the bower, they heard the lowing of cows and the barking of watch-dogs, and jack, who by this time was very hungry, even thought that he sniffed a savoury odour of cooking in the damp air, that mightily urged him forward. at length, they saw before them a large rambling cottage, with dairy-buildings adjoining it, standing on a firm piece of pasture-land that formed a green peninsula rising above the black fens they had just been traversing. a row of poplars behind it, and a plantation on either side, shut it in from any one passing at a short distance. there was also a kitchen and flower-garden in front, and considerable care had evidently been taken to keep the ground around clean and fit for walking. "you go in, and give your letter to dame pearson, while i take the horses to the stables," said burdale. "you will find it all right, for she will know well that no one could find his way here without a trustworthy guide." jack had expected to find a somewhat rough, and perhaps ill-favoured, dame the wife of master pearson. greatly surprised was he, therefore, when, on opening the door, he was received by a remarkably attractive, neatly-dressed woman, with a pleasant smile on her countenance, and agreeable manners, superior even to those of many ladies he had met. "you are welcome here, mr deane, as a friend of my husband!" she said. "we live a secluded life, but shall be glad to see you as long as you can remain. and perhaps you will find some amusement in the sports of our fen-country. ned burdale will be able to show them to you as well as most people; but we are not likely to be alone, for my husband tells me that several persons are coming here, and i have been making the best preparation in my power to receive them. my little girl elizabeth and i will soon get supper ready for you, and make you as welcome as we can. after your hard day's ride you will then be glad to go to bed, for it is a trying country to a stranger. we came here most of the way by water, but it was bad enough even then; and i am told that coming across from inland it's still worse." on entering the sitting-room, jack found a fair, pretty-looking little girl, of about fourteen or fifteen years of age, busily employed in spinning, so busy indeed that she did not stop even when she rose from her seat to make him a courtesy as he entered. "ah, yes, elizabeth is always at work," said dame pearson; "it is one of the secrets of her happiness, never to be idle from morning till night. to be sure we have plenty to do, and not many people to do it out in this place, and so a good deal falls to our lot--but come, elizabeth, we will go and prepare the supper for mr deane and ned burdale, who has come with him; and, perhaps before it is ready, others may make their appearance." saying this, she, followed by the little girl, glided from the room, leaving jack to his own reflections. he had not been left alone long before a knock was heard at the door, and dame pearson hurried through the room to open it. as she did so, a tall dark man, in a rough riding-suit, with pistols in his belt and a sword by his side, entered the house with the air of a person accustomed to consider himself at home wherever he might be. after exchanging a few words with the dame, while she returned to the kitchen he entered the room, and, seating himself in a large arm-chair, stretched out his legs, without taking any notice of jack, who sat before him, while he commenced tapping his boot with the end of his sword, as if lost in thought. at length he condescended to take a glance at his companion. "not long arrived in this part of the world, lad, i suppose?" he said, in a tone which showed he was very indifferent as to what answer he might receive. "it is possible that you may pass your time pleasantly enough here, if you are not troubled with the ague, and are fond of the music of frogs and wild-ducks. from what part of the world do you come, i ask?" "i last came from the borders of scotland; a pretty long ride too!" "ah!" exclaimed the stranger; "what matter brought you south?" "my own good pleasure," answered jack, not liking the tone of voice of the speaker. "you will excuse me if i do not explain the reason for my movements until we are further acquainted." "spoken like a sensible youth!" remarked the stranger. "i will ask no further questions then, though i suspect you have no cause to be ashamed of whatever you are about." the conversation, if so it could be called, was cut short by the entrance of dame pearson and her young attendant, bearing the dishes for supper, which they placed on a table on which the cloth had already been spread. the tall stranger took his seat at it with the same self-confident air with which he had entered the room. at that moment ned burdale came in, and was about to take his seat at the board, when, seeing the stranger, he stopped short. "i beg your pardon, sir! i did not know--" "never mind!" said the stranger; "sit down, ned; say not a word about it, man!" and he gave him at the same time a significant glance. burdale obeyed; but he evidently stood greatly in awe of the person who had spoken to him. very little conversation took place during the meal; and jack had time to examine the countenance of the young girl who had assisted dame pearson in preparing the supper, and who now took her seat by her side at the head of the table. there was a bright, intelligent look about her, and a refinement of expression which jack scarcely expected to find in a dwelling so remote from the civilised world. her education also had evidently not been neglected, for she had apparently read a good deal, and her mind was well stored with information on various subjects. jack did not find all this out at first; but he very soon began to suspect it. he discovered also that she had derived a good deal of her information from the dame herself, who, though apparently a mere farmer's wife, was evidently a person of superior education, equalled, indeed, by very few ladies in nottingham or elsewhere at that period. the stranger also treated her with considerable respect; and though he spoke in a rough way to jack and burdale, whenever he deigned to address them, his manner was greatly softened as he turned to the dame or the young girl. she was acquainted with most of jack's favourite authors; could recite many of the ballads about robin hood; and she was also especially well versed in foxe's "book of martyrs," a copy of which she exhibited with no little satisfaction to him. he observed, when she brought it out, that the tall stranger looked at it askance. "ah," she observed, "what fearful accounts master foxe gives us of the persecutions which protestants have suffered in all lands since the reformation which luther was the means of bringing about! in germany, in italy, in spain, and france, and, oh, i tremble with horror when i read of the sufferings of the poor protestants in the netherlands, under that cruel alva! in france also, how barbarously have the reformed been treated! i have reason to know something about it; and i'll tell you some day, mr deane." this was said after supper, as jack was seated at a little distance from the rest of the party, while the fair elizabeth was nimbly plying her distaff. "fictions or gross exaggerations!" muttered the stranger, who overheard some of the remarks uttered by the little damsel. at length the dame, who had observed the rising anger of her guest, came over to elizabeth, and whispered a few words in her ear; after which she did not again allude to the subject of which she had been speaking. "when do you expect your good man?" asked the tall stranger. "i fancied that i should have met him here to-day." "he has sent me word that he will be with us in two or three days, sir," answered the dame. "he has been longer absent than usual; but he has been busy buying cattle to send over to our farm; and we expect to have a considerable increase this year." "ah, yes! they thrive well on the rich grasses about here," observed the stranger. "well, i must wait his arrival; though how to pass away the time till he comes i scarcely know." "we can give you some sporting, sir," said burdale. "we lack not a variety--as wild-duck shooting, and fishing; and we have a new decoy establishment not far off. you may be interested in seeing that work, for we sometimes catch a great number of wild-fowl in it." jack was not sorry to hear arrangements made for the sport next day, hoping that he might be allowed to join in it, though he thought to himself he would rather have gone in the company of any body else than in that of the tall stranger. that he was a person of some consequence he felt sure, from the way in which he was treated; and when the family prepared to retire to rest, he observed that the dame herself showed him up-stairs to what was called the best guest-chamber in the house. a shake-down was prepared for jack in a corner of the hall; and burdale made off to a room in one of the out-houses. "we treat you now as we shall have to do while you stay here," said the dame, apologising for the homely entertainment she had given jack. "before long we are expecting several guests, who come here to transact business with my good man, either to buy cattle or horses, or about certain affairs abroad. he was a seaman in his younger days, and visited many strange countries, and even now is often hankering after the ocean. however, i hope he will settle down quietly soon, for i think he must be weary of riding about the country in the way he does; but he's a good, kind husband to me, and i have reason to be grateful. he saved my life in the time of the civil war, and protected me from fearful dangers when all my family were killed, and i was left penniless; so i have reason, you see, to be grateful to him and love him. i should be glad if we could move back to the part of the country we came from, for this fen-district is trying to the health, though elizabeth and i keep ours indeed wonderfully, considering the fogs which so often hang about us. but the inhabitants of holland retain their health often to a green old age, and the country is very similar to this, only there drains have been cut in all directions, and it is only of late years that attempts have been made to drain our lincolnshire fens. it would seem impossible to carry the water off from around us, and yet, looking to what has been done in holland, perhaps too some day we shall see corn-fields and orchards where now we have only marshes and ponds." jack, taking courage from the disposition to talk the good dame exhibited, asked her the name of the tall stranger who had just arrived. "that is more than i can tell you, young sir," she answered. "he calls himself long sam, or sam smart, and desires to be addressed by that name alone; but whether that is his real name or not, i leave you to judge. he is evidently a man who has seen the world, and courtly society too, though he can be rough enough when he pleases, as you will find if you offend him, and let me advise you not to do so on any account." jack, much interested with the information he had received, at length put his head upon his straw-stuffed pillow. as he lay there he heard heavy footsteps pacing up and down the room overhead, which he concluded to be the one occupied by the gentleman who chose to call himself long sam. chapter seventeen. a decoy described. the following morning, with burdale as a guide, long sam and jack set off to visit the decoy which had been spoken of, mounted on rough-looking fen horses, with broad feet which enabled them to get over the soft ground at a considerable rate, while, they kept the legs of their riders out of the water. the horses were left at a hut at a little distance from the decoy, under charge of one of the persons employed in attending it. it was situated in the midst of somewhat higher and firmer ground than any they had before passed over, and was surrounded also with willow, poplar, and other trees. the decoy consisted of a pond of a hundred and fifty acres, or more perhaps. on the surface of it floated a number of water-lilies, the aquatic ranunculus, and the flowers of other water-plants, while at the edges for a considerable distance gulfs--or canals, they might be called--had been cut, about seven yards wide at the mouth, more or less, terminating in a sharp point. about ten or twelve yards from the entrance of each canal, an arch was formed over the water of about ten feet in height, a number of other arches succeeding it gradually, as they advanced towards the inner end decreasing in height and width, the innermost of all not being more than two feet in height, and about the same in width. over these a strong net was thrown and pegged closely down to the ground, thus forming a complete cage, with a broad entrance opening on the pool, there being only at the inner end a small door, through which the fowler could insert his hand to draw out his captives. "this is what we call a pipe," observed burdale, as he exhibited the arrangement to long sam. on either side of the pipe, commencing at the pond, and continuing to the farther end, was a screen formed of reeds, about five feet in height, built in a zig-zag form, and broken into lengths of about five or six feet, and at about a foot from the edge of the pipe. while the party were examining this pipe, the chief fowler, accompanied by a little dog, came up to them. "this is our piper," he observed; "without him we could not manage to catch any fowls." he was a little foxy-coloured animal, evidently very obedient and submissive to his master. "you will see, sir," observed the man, "we have got ten pipes to our decoy, all branching off in different directions. the reason of this is that wild-fowl, when they get up from the water, always fly against the wind, and so, if we only had the pipes on one side, it would only be when the wind came from that quarter that we could catch any fowl; so you see we have them from all sides; and thus from whatever point the wind blows, we have the chance of catching birds. now, you see those birds swimming out in the middle of the pond there? they're our decoy-ducks; without them we could not catch any wild ones either. i had a good job to train them. you see, the first thing i did was to shut them up by themselves, and pretty nigh starve them. i then carried them a little food; and did the same several times every day, till they knew me. at last they began to look out for me, and, instead of flying away, they were too glad to come up and take the food from my hand. whenever also i fed them, i whistled just a faint whistle, like this. and so, at last, as soon as they heard my whistle, they knew that i was going to give them some food, and i kept on whistling all the time they were feeding in the same gentle tone. it took me, i suppose, three or four months before i could trust those birds out; and now, if i did not continue to feed them, and whistle all the time, they would soon be off with the rest. i had to train the dog, too; and that took me some time. you see, his business is to run along the edge of the pipe, show himself now and then, and then leap through those openings in the screen. well, to make him do that, i taught him by giving him a piece of bread each time he came through; and if he would not jump, then he got no bread and no cheese, for he is fond of cheese, i can tell you. "now, you will understand, that if we are to catch any birds, you must not show yourself; and you, tall gentleman, if you please, will just keep stooping down all the time. no disrespect to you, master; if they caught sight of your face, not a bird would come up the pipe. "now there's another thing we shall have to do: we must just each of us carry a piece of lighted turf, for the birds can smell as well as see; and they don't mind the smoke, and that carries away any scent by which we might betray ourselves. now, we will go round to the side from which the wind blows directly over the pond. stoop down, master, if you please. i will first go and fasten the net over the end of the pipe, that the birds may fly into it, as i hope there will be many of them doing before long. here we are, masters: just step softly over the turf, and keep bending down. that will do. now don't speak any more, but just do as i do. you will see a sight of birds in a few minutes." after going some little distance towards the edge of the decoy, the fowler drew aside a small shutter, it might be called, in the screen, through which he beckoned jack and his companions to look. a number of birds, ducks, teal, widgeon, and others, were either floating lazily on the surface of the lake, or rising and circling round it, while others were bobbing their heads beneath the water, or diving in search of their prey which swam below. again the shutter was closed, and the fowler threw a few handfuls of bruised barley into the centre of the pipe, which was soon blown down by the wind to the mouth. he now called the little piper, and sent him in, in front of the screen, at the same time whistling low--the well-known signal to the decoy-ducks. on hearing the sound, they instantly rose and flew towards the mouth of the pipe. now the little dog ran along for a few feet in front of the screen, where the birds could see him, and then suddenly disappeared, by leaping through one of the openings. on came the wild-fowl, following the decoy-ducks and fearless of evil. seeing the dog, the curiosity of the birds was excited, and up the pipe they began to swim. again the dog was turned in, and again the birds followed him in his treacherous course up the pipe. the same trick was played over and over again, till the birds had been led well out of sight of the entrance of the pipe. the fowler then stepping forward in front of the screen, without making any noise which might frighten the birds still outside, waved his cap round and round. frightened by this unexpected apparition, the birds rose from the water, and rushed at headlong speed towards the narrow end of the pipe. on they went, driven by the fowler, till they reached the very end; where, finding what they supposed to be an opening, they darted through, to discover, when too late, that they were hopeless captives within a strong net! the scene was very exciting, especially to jack, who had never seen it before, and full forty birds were captured together. the decoy-birds, as soon as the fowler ceased whistling, employed themselves quietly in picking up the grains of barley which floated on the water, instead of proceeding, like their brothers whom they had treacherously betrayed, up towards the end of the pipe. "you see you have no risk of starving, master deane," observed burdale, as he assisted in ringing the necks of the captive birds. "we live like princes here, as far as food is concerned; and when the weather allows it, and we can send across the fens, we could always get a good market for our game." "we're not always so lucky as we have just been," observed the fowler; "we have a good many enemies who try to prevent our success. sometimes i have seen a heron sit on the top of the outermost arch, just waiting to dive down and catch some fish he may see swimming below. now as long as that heron sits there, not a bird will ever come up that pipe, not knowing what trick he will play them, and our only chance is to try another. there are some ducks, too, which nothing will tempt to come up the pipe. they are the _pochard_, or, as we call them here, pokers. now they're the cunningest birds you ever saw! if ever they find themselves within the mouth, they will suddenly dive and swim out again, generally making the other birds follow them. at other times they will stop just at the mouth, where the barley is floating about, and swim backwards and forwards till they have eaten the whole of it up, and then off again they will go, laughing at the way they have deceived us. the worst of all, perhaps, is when an otter builds his house near the mouth. at first we could not find out what was the matter when no birds would ever come near, and it was not till i caught the gentleman one day, that i found out the reason why. no birds are more timid than these wild-fowl. all the work about the decoy we have to do at night, for if they hear any sounds they're not accustomed to, they will keep away from it. as few people ever come out here we are safe enough; but if strangers were to come, or any body was to fire a gun, we might not catch a bird for weeks afterwards. however, masters, the wind has shifted a little, and we will try another pipe; so come along." the next pipe was worked in the same way as the first. the decoy-ducks performed their part to admiration; toby, the little piper, doing his in a way to gain the applause of all who saw him. his reward was a piece of cheese at the end of his day's work, for although a number of ducks were piled up around him, not one of them would he touch. "oh, no, no!" said his master; "it's one of the chief things he has to be careful about. if he had a taste for duck's meat, he would never do for a piper." with a large supply of ducks for the farm, the party returned by the way they had come, jack promising to pay ere long another visit to the decoy. had it not been for elizabeth, jack would have found his time hang rather heavily on his hands, but as soon as her day's work was over, and she had resumed her distaff or spinning-wheel, he took his seat by her side, and either read to her, or talked to her about the books which she had read. her quiet, gentle manner put him more in mind of his sister kate, than of polly or alethea, with whom he could not help occasionally contrasting her. not that he fancied he admired alethea less than he had done; but, at the same time, he could scarcely help acknowledging to himself that he was greatly taken with elizabeth's quiet and gentle manners. it is possible that the desire to be with elizabeth induced him to offer his services to dame pearson as an assistant about the farm, as he assured her he was well able to perform most of the duties of a farm-servant; and he thus had ample employment in driving in the cows, assisting in milking them, leading the horses to water, churning the butter, of which the dame manufactured a considerable quantity, and performing many other similar duties. he was very glad, however, when on the third day after his arrival master pearson himself appeared at the farm. jack was anxious to hear whether the arrangements regarding the purchase of cattle for mr strelley had been satisfactorily carried out. "oh, yes, my young friend," answered master pearson, "the money was honestly paid, and the cattle are now on their way south, and i will warrant they arrive as safely as if will brinsmead himself had been driving them. they will have no black-mail to pay, either to master nevis or to any other cateran who is in the habit of levying it on the road. i met a friend from nottingham, and i've heard about your family; and i sent them word that you were all safe, and would come back among them some day,--so you need not make yourself unhappy on that score." this information greatly relieved jack's mind, and he was now far better able than before to enjoy his visit to the farm. soon after the return of master pearson, much to jack's satisfaction, long sam took his departure. there was something about the man he did not at all like, for in general he was overbearing and dictatorial, though he could be courteous when he chose, as he occasionally was when speaking to dame pearson or elizabeth. with that young lady, as has been said, jack spent a considerable portion of his time, whenever he was in the house; dame pearson made no objection to his so doing. indeed, so quiet and sedate was the little girl, that she seemed to treat him more in the light of a brother than an admirer. from the remarks made by dame pearson, jack had been anxious to learn more of her early history, but whenever he introduced the subject to elizabeth, she invariably tried to turn him from it. "dear mamma and i are very happy now, and quiet and contented: but we have gone through some very painful scenes, and we desire not to recall them; so don't, i pray you, speak to me again of my early days." pearson seemed to be occupying himself very busily about farm matters, and wherever he went took jack with him. on the various pasture-lands, some partially drained, others tolerably dry by nature, a considerable number of cattle were fed. they were of all breeds, though the greater number appeared to have come from the north. there were a good many horses also--some carefully sheltered in sheds, and others roaming at large. pearson exhibited them to jack with considerable pride. "i have a number of valuable animals here," he observed, "which will fetch high prices in the london market, and i purpose early in the spring sending some up. if you will undertake to accompany them, it will give you an opportunity of seeing the big city. i may or may not go myself, but i wish to place them under charge of a trusty man who knows london well, so that you need have no responsibility in the matter. in the meantime, you shall try them by turns, so that you will be able to speak of their various qualities." this last proposal was very much to jack's taste, and from that day forward, he was constantly employed in exercising the horses. in this way he gained considerable knowledge of the fen-country, and was able to traverse it in most directions by himself, learning by degrees to distinguish even at a distance the soft and marshy places which were impassable, and to pick out the harder ground, even though covered with water. frequently he was thus occupied from morning till night, often being sent considerable distances from the farm with messages to the surrounding towns. though the life was a rough one, it was much to his taste; and he was recompensed for any extra fatigue by the kindly welcome he always received on his return from the dame and her young daughter. as the winter grew on, also, various guests arrived at the farm for the purpose, so they stated, of purchasing cattle or horses; but though some of them mentioned the subject in his presence, none of the cattle, at all events, were ever driven away. jack concluded, therefore, that they would be sent in the spring to the purchasers. now and then a valuable horse was, however, purchased; and sometimes fresh animals were brought and left there while the owners took their departure by some means towards the sea-shore, jack supposed for the purpose of embarking and going abroad; while others proceeded towards london. jack could not, however, help occasionally having suspicions with regard to the proceedings of the various persons who came to the farm. he himself was not trusted with their secrets, if secrets they had; nor did he wish to be so; but most of them were evidently far above the class of cattle-dealers. some, indeed, from their conversation and manners, were undoubtedly men of rank and position in society. as the winter drew on, the number increased; and from the remarks which they occasionally let drop, jack felt convinced that some undertaking of importance was about to be carried out. he one day hinted the subject to elizabeth. she shook her head. "don't speak of it," she answered; "i don't like to think about the matter. i know, as you do, that these men who come here are not cattle-dealers, but i cannot believe that my father would undertake any thing wrong or dangerous. i should like to learn what it all means, but i dare not speak to him on the subject, for though he is very kind, he does not choose to be questioned about any of his proceedings, and neither my mother nor i ever venture to do so." it did not occur to jack that he might be made a tool of in any way, but yet he suspected that he might possibly be drawn into some undertaking against his better judgment. it therefore occurred to him that his wisest course would be to wish good-bye to master pearson and his family, and either to return to nottingham and risk the possibility of a trial, or to throw himself upon the kindness of his future brother-in-law, giles dainsforth of norwich. "he is so calm and right-thinking, that he will advise me what to do," he thought to himself. but then, again, when he found himself by the side of elizabeth, he came to the conclusion that a short time longer would make but little difference, and for that time, at all events, he would enjoy her society, while he might also take a few more gallops on master pearson's thoroughbred horses. he had not forgotten alethea, however, and he nattered himself that he was as true in his allegiance to her as he had been before. chapter eighteen. journey to london with long sam. the month of february, , had commenced, when one evening a rider was seen coming across the marsh from the direction of the sea. he threw himself from his horse, and called out loudly for master pearson. jack recognised his voice as that of the tall stranger, long sam, whom he had met on his first arrival. he took pearson, who went out to him, by the arm, and walked up and down in front of the house rapidly for some time, talking earnestly to him. meantime, the dame and elizabeth were preparing the evening meal. the new arrival, whose appearance was very different to what it had been formerly, now entered the house, and placed himself before the table, to partake of the food provided for him. while he was thus engaged, pearson called jack aside. "our friend here has business in london of importance, and requires a trustworthy attendant. are you disposed to accompany him?" he asked. "you will find it, as i have before promised you, a good opportunity of seeing the great city, and all your expenses will besides be paid, while you will receive a handsome gratuity to boot. take my advice: don't throw the chance away. as i told you before, you will be as safe there as you are in the middle of the fens, and you will, besides, very likely find an opportunity of pushing your fortune, which you certainly will not out here." jack thanked pearson for the offer. the temptation was strong, and whatever might have been his suspicions of the tall stranger, he determined to accept it. "you will set off to-morrow morning by daybreak, with eight horses. each of you will take charge of three and bestride another, and you will be able to dispose of them in london or its neighbourhood for handsome prices. they will make fine chargers, and will very likely be purchased by officers of cavalry. long sam knows london well, and will make all the necessary arrangements for their sale." elizabeth's colour changed when jack told her that he was about to take his departure for london. "going away!" she exclaimed; "i thought that you would remain here always and help my mother look after the farm when mr pearson is away. she much requires help. oh, i wish that you were not going!" "i hope to come back again soon, elizabeth," he answered, taking the young girl's hand. "you have made my stay here very pleasant, far pleasanter than i expected, and i shall always remember you." "and i, i am very sure, shall not forget you, master deane," replied elizabeth, looking up in his face. "i have never felt sad or dull as i used sometimes to do before you came--and i have been very happy! my only fear is that you will not recollect me as i shall you; and i want to give you something to make you remember me. i have very few jewels or any thing of value of my own, besides this ring. please, then, take it and wear it for my sake." she took his hand, and put on his finger as she spoke a massive gold ring of a peculiar make, with a chameleon and a vessel under full sail engraved on it. "it is all i have to give, but i entreat you to accept it, that you may be reminded how grateful i am for the kindness you have shown me since you came to live here!" jack did not like to refuse the gift, and yet he thought that he ought not to accept it. "i should ever remember you without it," he answered. "but it is too valuable. give me something of less cost, which i shall prize as much for your sake as this, for i shall value whatever you give me." "oh, no, keep it!" she murmured. "it is the only thing i possess suited for you. i have a locket and brooch and other jewels, but they are not such as you would care for." jack could no longer resist the gift. he kissed her brow and thanked her again and again, and promised never to forget her. he felt honestly what he said. jack slept very little all that night, thinking of what he was to see in london, and the adventures he might meet with on his journey there. whatever suspicions might have arisen in his mind he shut out, anxious to have nothing to interfere with the pleasure he anticipated. the light of pearson's lamp, as it gleamed in his eyes when he came to call him in the morning, aroused him from his sleep, and he found the horses already at the door prepared for starting. the dame and elizabeth were on foot with breakfast prepared, and they gave him a friendly farewell, as, following long sam's example, he stepped out to mount his horse. a thick rime covered the ground, and a cold air blew across the fens, as the two riders with their charges took their way south. jack, who by this time was well accustomed to the devious track across the fens, led the way at as rapid a pace as the horses could move, closely followed by long sam, who was now dressed as an ordinary jockey or rough-rider. they stopped to bait at various places: sometimes at the private residence of some gentleman who long sam said wished to look at their horses; at other times at a farm-house, and occasionally at inns, but these were generally avoided. while traversing an open country, long sam called jack by his side. "you will understand, deane," he observed, "that you have a very simple part to play when you reach london; but i must have your promise that you will do nothing without my orders, and that you will make all the inquiries i may direct, and gain all the information you can on certain points which i will explain to you. you will thus be enabled to render great service to an important cause, and run no risk or danger yourself." "as to that," answered jack, "i am ready enough to run all sorts of risks where there is a good object to be attained; and i would rather be trusted than asked to act in the dark, as i am now doing!" long sam smiled grimly. "others may not be so willing to trust you as you suppose," he answered. "indeed, it is better for all parties that you should not be acquainted with what is taking place. i wish you, however, to understand, that the men with whom i am engaged are persons of honour and character, and are not likely to do any act unworthy of their position." "then there _is_ some plot or scheme afoot?" said jack. "i have long thought so, but could gain no information about the matter." "you are right in that respect," answered long sam: "there is an important scheme about to be carried out; and as soon as you have given proof of your fitness to engage in it, you shall be informed as to the particulars. in the meantime, all i require is simple obedience to my directions, and then all will be well." after riding for some distance across somewhat hilly country, on reaching the summit of a height, he pulled up his horse, exclaiming, "why, surely that must be london!" before him, spread out, and extending some way both to the east and west, were numberless streets of houses, with towers and spires rising above them in all directions, before them, glittering white in the sunlight, rose the pinnacles of the magnificent fane of saint paul's, with its lofty dome--just then verging towards completion, to the satisfaction of its talented architect, sir christopher wren--while beyond could be seen, winding on through meadows and green fields, and then amidst the houses and stores of london and westminster, the city and the borough, the blue stream of the thames, covered with numerous boats and barges. keeping to the right, long sam led his companion round the outside of london, at the back of the palace at kensington, to the village of hammersmith. "we shall there find proper stables, and a careful groom to look after our horses," he observed; "and purchasers will not object to ride down there to inspect them--they may deem them of more value than if they were brought to their doors." the village then consisted chiefly of a single street, with here and there a few houses on either side of branch roads. instead of selecting the chief inn, long sam rode up to the door of a small house, with the sign of "the bear" swinging on poles before it. some good-sized stables showed that he had selected it more on account of the accommodation it could afford the horses than that which they would find within its doors for themselves. "we're pretty full, masters," said the landlord, as he eyed the two travellers; "but i'll manage to put you up as best i can, as it's cold weather to sleep out in the lofts. i've got a room for you," he said, looking at long sam, "where, by adding two or three feet to the bed, you will find room to stretch yourself; and you, my lad, will be content with a little closet we have got on the stairs. there's not much air or light comes in, but it's pretty warm, considering it's near the kitchen chimney; and as for light, you will do well enough without that at night." jack, who had been accustomed to rough lodgings since he started with will brinsmead, expressed himself perfectly satisfied with the accommodation which was promised him. long sam, taking a valise which he had before him, followed the landlord up to his room. jack soon found that his companion intended to make him act the part of the careful groom, the person he spoke of, for some reason or other, not being forthcoming. "you must keep a watchful eye on the horses, jack," he observed, when he came down-stairs. "i have business which calls me elsewhere, and i must entrust them to you. take care that they are well fed, and that their shoes are in good order. see that no tricks are played with them; for in this city rogues of all sorts abound. some, for instance, on pretence of looking at them, may come in and lame them, perchance to depreciate their value; you understand me? you must watch, too, that no one, pretending to try their paces, gallops off, and leaves you to follow if you list, and to find, when you come back, that the rest have been disposed of in the same way." "when i engaged for a ride, master smart, my object was to see the big city," said jack, in a tone of expostulation. "have patience, lad!" answered long sam; "you will see the city soon enough, and perhaps have more time to spend in it than you expect i have the means of rewarding you in a way that will suit your taste. so let me hear no more grumbling, i pray thee!" saying this, long sam, turning on his heel, walked away from the stables, leaving jack to groom the tired horses. jack was fortunately accustomed to make the best of every thing, and, therefore, though somewhat hungry and tired, he set to work with whisp and brush to get the dust and dirt of the roads off the animals, and to put them into a condition to enjoy their food. several days passed by, during which jack found himself almost a prisoner in the stable-yard. occasionally long sam appeared, accompanied by various persons who took a look at the horses; but, strange to say, although they were lavish in their praises of the animals, no purchasers were found. at all events, the horses remained in their stalls. among two or three who one day came together, jack observed a person whose countenance he thought he recognised. the man turned a cold, unmeaning glance towards him as he caught jack's eye fixed on his countenance. "i am sure that is master stirthesoul!" jack said to himself. "he is the same man i met at mr harwood's, and the same who was in master pearson's company at saint faith's. what can he have to do here?" jack resolved to solve the doubt by addressing him. just as he was about to open his lips, the man, giving him a somewhat menacing look, turned round and followed long sam out of the stable. jack saw him whispering a few words into long sam's ears. "oh, he's all right and faithful!" he heard the latter say. "he knows nothing, and if he did, he's not the lad to betray us!" jack could not tell whether these words were intended for his ears or not. however, the visitors walked away without taking any further notice of him. in spite of smart's promises, jack began to feel very weary of confinement in the precincts of the inn, and determine on insisting that long sam should take his place. "he pretends to be a groom, and therefore i do not see that he should not act as one," said jack to himself. just, however, as he was about to insist on this arrangement with his companion, long sam told him that he might go into the city and take a look round london, and see what he could of the sights. "only take care to find your way back again here before the evening," he observed. "keep in the broader streets, and don't tell any strangers where you come from, or what has brought you to the city." it was sunday morning; and jack, putting on his best garments which he had brought with him, started on his walk. he took his way along a very bad road leading to the strand, with the fields and cabbage-gardens to the right, and hyde park to the left, which then extended nearly to the palace of kensington. fortunately the weather was dry for the season of the year, or he would have been splashed over from head to foot. besides saint paul's, a number of beautiful churches were already raising their heads by the genius of wren in various parts of london. seeing a number of people collecting before a church, and having never failed at home in attending divine service, he took courage, and followed the crowd within the building. although he had been accustomed occasionally to see people take their eyes off their books to watch the entrance of a stranger, or to examine the dress of their neighbours, or perhaps to exchange glances with one another, he was little prepared for the style of behaviour in which the congregation of the church where he now found himself indulged. here were collected many of the beauties, and a few of the fine gentlemen of the day. it may have been that they lost little by not attending to the preacher. so jack thought from what he could catch of the discourse, little of which he could understand, so full of flowers of rhetoric was it. most of his neighbours were, at all events, flirting and ogling all through the service, and as they entered and took their seats all courtesied and bowed to their acquaintance, as if they had been at a theatre. jack could not help feeling thankful when the service was brought to a conclusion. "if this is the way the great people worship god in this big city, i am afraid the citizens and poorer ones can pay very little attention to him at all," he thought. jack found himself looked at askance by several persons of ordinary degree, among whom he stood at the farther end of the building. at length he made his way into the open air. he much admired, however, the coaches and sedan-chairs that came to fetch away all the grand people, with little negro boys from the sugar islands to hold up the trains of the ladies, and pages who sat on the steps of the gaily-painted coaches, drawn, some by four, and some by six horses. in a walk along the mall, where, of course, no one paid the least attention to the open-mouthed country lad, jack saw a still greater number of fashionable people. among them was a very stout lady, carried in a sedan-chair with painted panels, and he heard the passers-by remark that she was the princess ann. her chair was followed by another sedan, which, he was told, contained the lady churchill, whose beautiful face looked, however, in any thing but a good-humour. he saw many other sights, some of them curious enough but altogether he was disappointed with this his first day in london. "they say that the streets are paved with gold; but that is a mistake. they could only once have been gilt, and the fine gentlemen i have met must have rolled in them, and the gilding must have stuck to their clothes." jack had been looking out all the day in the hopes of seeing the king, of whose courage, wisdom, and remarkable clemency, he had often heard his father and cousin nat speak. they looked upon him, indeed, as the bulwark of the protestant faith in england, and notwithstanding all the efforts which mr harwood and his daughter, and master pearson and others had made to eradicate that notion from jack's mind, it remained in reality as firm as ever. the very reason which the king's enemies brought forward to depreciate him, raised him more and more in his opinion. his desire was at length gratified, when, on the th of february, long sam told him, that if he would go and stand near the gates of the palace of kensington he would there very likely get a glimpse of the king. "and hark you, my lad," he said, "you must observe carefully all that happens at the time, and bring me word. take your stand, also, with your right foot before the left, and your hand in the breast of your coat. a person will then probably come and speak to you, and you will repeat to me all he says. if he does not speak, he will give you a note, which you are to bring immediately to me." jack, as directed, took up his post at the gates of the palace at kensington. he had not long to wait, when the gates were thrown open, and some guards appeared, and then a coach with six horses, within which sat a gentleman with a long nose and prominent features, dressed in a rich riding-suit. on either side were more horsemen, who jack heard were the king's dutch guards. they were followed by several dutch officers of the court, among whom was the faithful duke of portland, and others of high rank. jack had a good view of that clear hawk's eye, and the large roman nose and the serious countenance, which expressed little but acute penetration into the mind and motives of others, with all of which the coinage of the realm had made his subjects familiar. the sight of the great warrior and wisest statesman of the day, who knew himself to be surrounded by plots, and yet went his way with perfect coolness, had great effect upon jack's somewhat excitable mind. he threw up his cap, and shouted, "hurrah! long live the king!" in as good faith as any of the many bystanders; and his first impulse was to run off, following the coach, shouting, as youths and boys are used to do after any great personage. the king leaned forward over a paper which he held in his hand, so that nearly the whole of his figure was visible at the window of the coach, which took its way towards richmond. suddenly jack remembered the direction he had received from long sam. going back to the place he had before occupied, he put himself in the position in which he had been standing. looking round, he saw a person who had come out of the palace observing him narrowly. the person, who was dressed in the livery of the palace, at length passed close to him. "are you long sam's messenger?" he asked. "at your service," answered jack. "where does he lodge?" asked the stranger. "at the bear," was jack's answer. "take this note, and deliver it quickly," said the stranger; "but do not move from where you now stand till i have re-entered the palace." saying this, the stranger slipped a sealed packet into jack's hand. he immediately concealed it in his doublet, but as he did so a shade of doubt crossed his mind that all was not right. he waited, however, a few minutes till the person who had given him the packet had re-entered the gate, and then took his way back to the bear. he could not, however, help occasionally looking round to observe whether his steps were followed. he felt that he was engaged in some secret transaction; and from some of the remarks which long sam had let drop, as well as the appearance of the concealed jesuit in his society, he could not help fearing that the plot afoot was against the welfare of the king. he reached the inn, however, in safety, and described exactly to long sam all he had seen. "but you must tell me honestly," he said, "whether this matter has any thing to do with any proceeding which may injure the king. as i watched him just now, i thought of the many brave actions which he has performed, and his calmness and courage at the present time, and could not help feeling that i would rather fight for him than against him." "you are a foolish young man!" answered long sam, in a more angry tone than he had ever used towards jack. "follow my directions, and all will be right. i do not want to hurt your feelings," he added, seeing that jack's colour came to his cheek. "and now i must leave you." "as to that," answered jack, "i have no wish to quarrel with you, or any other man; but it strikes me i have been made a `cat's-paw' of, and i tell you frankly i should like to know our object in coming to london." "then as frankly i will tell you--i cannot give it," answered long sam. "if you don't know your own interests, it's your own fault; but remain here a few days longer, and i have no doubt you will learn all you wish to know, and probably much more than i know now." chapter nineteen. the conspiracy. several days passed by after this conversation, during which long sam was constantly absent. other circumstances had occurred which made jack more suspicious than ever. he had been waiting all day for his companion, when, as long sam had not returned at ten o'clock at night, it being past the usual time of retiring, jack went to his bedroom, into which, as the entrance was in rather a public position, he securely bolted himself. after he had been asleep for some time he awoke with a start, and was greatly surprised to hear voices close to him. at first, he thought himself transported back to the old house at the hagg, and that the sounds he heard proceeded from the ghosts which were said to haunt it. however, on sitting up, and more perfectly recovering his senses, he perceived that the speakers were real personages in close proximity to him. although a gleam or two of light came through a partition which separated him from the room where he supposed them to be, he was unable to find any chink or opening through which he could observe what the speakers were about. as he had not been placed there intentionally for the purpose of hearing the conversation, he did not feel that he was guilty of eavesdropping, or that it was his duty to refrain from listening to what was spoken. there appeared to be a number of persons collected together, two or three of whom took the lead among the others. "my friends, i have to thank you for meeting me here to-night," were the first words jack heard uttered. "we have an important object to carry out, and it requires all the nerve and courage we possess to ensure its success. we have a rightful cause, and that should strengthen our arms for any deed which may be necessary. remember we are not acting for ourselves, but under the full authority and sanction of our lawful sovereign, king james. it becomes necessary for his interests, and for our own, and for that of all england, and moreover for that of the only true and pure faith, which we profess--the faith of rome--that the usurper should be removed. you perceive, then, that we lift the responsibility off our own shoulders upon those who give us authority to act. i should be myself ever far from advocating assassination, or any other unlawful way of getting rid of a rival, but in this instance it seems that no other mode presents itself. i hope, then, that you are prepared to go through with the plan i have to propose, by whatever way it is to be carried out, or whatever may be the consequences." "yes, yes, we are all prepared!" exclaimed several persons. "stay, friends!" cried another; "say not that all are prepared. we are all ready to draw our swords in a lawful quarrel and in an open manner, such as true soldiers may fight for, but there are other ways at which sir george has hinted, and it may be that some of them are not such as honourable men would desire to engage in." "what mean you, captain?" exclaimed the first speaker. "do you dare to affirm that i propose any scheme which is not honourable and lawful? whatever i do, or whatever i say, i act under the authority of my true and only sovereign, king james. i acknowledge no other, and therefore i feel myself at liberty to draw my sword in opposition to any one who claims the title of my king." "how are we to be sure that you have this authority, good sir?" asked the former speaker. "i have served under the banners of many leaders, and have always been faithful to those who trusted me; but before i draw my sword against the prince of orange i should like to know that it is according to the wish of james, late king of england, who by that means may recover his own." "here, then, incredulous men," exclaimed the person who had been addressed as `sir george;' "listen to the commission i have received from king james himself:-- "`our will and pleasure is, and we do hereby fully authorise, strictly require, and expressly command, our loving subjects to rise in arms and make war upon the prince of orange, the usurper of our throne, and all his adherents, and to seize for our use all such forts, towns, and strongholds within our dominion of england as may serve to further our interest, and to do from time to time such other acts of hostility against the prince of orange and his adherents as may conduce most to our service. we judge this the properest, justest, and most effectual means of procuring the restoration and their deliverance, and we do hereby indemnify them for what they shall act in pursuance of this our royal command, given at our court of saint germain-en-laye, the th of december, .' "this will, i hope, satisfy you, gentlemen, that we are not acting without due authority; moreover, you should be aware that the duke of berwick came over to england a few months ago, and visited many of the principal adherents of king james, who are all ready, on the signal which we shall make them, to rise in arms, and raise the standard of our lawful king. he is also at the present moment prepared to put himself at the head of an army of , french soldiers, who are drawn out of the different garrisons of the neighbourhood of calais. there is also a fleet ready to bring them across as soon as they receive the signal which we are preparing to give. the french king has promised to support king james, and will follow with another army, which will be as soon as possible collected." "that appears a well-arranged, straightforward scheme, such as soldiers and men of honour can engage in," observed another speaker. "i am glad you think so, captain," observed sir george; "and i feel very sure, that as soon as the signal i have spoken of is given, we shall have hundreds like yourselves flocking to the royal standard." "but what is to be that signal, may i ask?" inquired another, who had not before spoken. "i am willing to draw my sword at the command of the king, but i never like to take a leap in the dark, and am better pleased when all matters are explained clearly beforehand." "it is not usual for a general to give a sketch of his campaign to his subordinates," answered sir george, in a haughty tone. "there are certain matters of which it is better that as few as possible should be informed. i trust that this reply will satisfy you." "it must, by my faith!" mattered the old officer; "but, for my part, i have no taste for these secret plots; i would rather a band of brave fellows had been collected together, and that king james's standard had been raised, and that then we had marched through the country, gathering strength in our progress." "to be cut to pieces by dutch william's soldiers, or to be surrounded and strung up like foot-pads!" observed another speaker. "there are difficulties in our way, but they are such as brave men will gladly encounter." such was the strain in which the conversation continued. as yet nothing was said which might lead jack to suppose that any immediate outbreak was likely to occur. yet his suspicions were aroused, and he could not help fancying that the voice of the speaker who was addressed as "sir george" was very like that of long sam. if so, he felt that he himself would be in some way implicated in the plot. at length the party appeared to be breaking up, and most of the persons who had formed it took their departure. still some remained; and at length he heard the door bolted and barred behind those who had gone out. those who remained poked up the fire and drew their chairs round it. "all will go well!" exclaimed the person who had been addressed as "sir george." "and now let us see to the more important part of our work. while dutch william lives, or at all events is at liberty, king james will not move from his present position, and even the king of france cannot beard the lion in his den. as long as the protestants have a leader they will be united, and a rising of the adherents of king james will be hopeless; but once let the head of william be laid low, and before they have time to make arrangements to secure another protestant sovereign, king james can be brought over, and the catholic religion again be established in the land. the end sanctifies the means, as my excellent father-confessor assures me, and i therefore have no compunction as to that matter. king james has sent over a number of his `gentlemen of the guard' and others, who have come as it were on their private concerns, but who are all prepared to unite, as soon as they receive directions from me, to carry out any scheme i may propose. to those who are squeamish i have suggested merely that we seize and bring away the prince of orange, carry him on board ship, and thence convey him over to france: but that will never do; before he could be got to the thames he would be rescued, and our necks would have to answer for our folly. there is but one safe plan, and that is to set upon him armed with pistols and strong pushing-swords, and thus at once to put him to death. as soon as he is dead his own adherents even will be afraid to assault us, not knowing who may next be at the head of affairs, what say you, gentlemen?--i have spoken plainly to you." "i have been advised on this matter before," was the answer. "with you, i feel that which you propose is the only way of proceeding, especially if by that means we can establish again our religion in the land. if once we can gain the upper hand, we may without difficulty so oppress and keep down these protestant heretics that we may compel them to come over to the true faith, or drive them from the country." "we are all agreed, then, my friends?" said the leader of the plot. "listen, then, to the plan which i have arranged. the king, as you know, frequently drives out from his palace at kensington for the purpose of hunting in richmond park, and takes boat near turnham green to cross the thames to the surrey side. i have arranged several leaders, each of whom has five men well mounted to act under him. they will be well-armed with blunderbusses, musketoons, pistols, and well-sharpened swords. there is a spot at turnham green where the road is narrow, with high hedges and ditches on each side, so that a coach and six horses cannot easily turn on a sudden. just about there, also, there are some shrubs and bushes which will afford shelter to our men. we have spies in the palace who will give us exact information of the hours and days when the king goes forth in his coach; and as he has but a small body of guards with him, there will be little risk of a miscarriage. all we have now to do, is to fix the day for the carrying out of the scheme. it is well conceived, and cannot fail; and, moreover, if any of those engaged in it have qualms of conscience, i am able to promise them full absolution, should the king fall by their hands." jack was horrified at what he heard. what course was he to pursue? should he at once make his way to the palace and give information of the atrocious plot? it was not at all likely, should he do so, that he would be believed. he lay on his bed in deep distress of mind. that his companion who had brought him to london was engaged in the plot, he had no doubt whatever; indeed, he fully believed that he was one of the leaders. while he lay thus, considering what course to pursue, he heard some of those who had been in the room take their departure. one, however, remained, and he thought he recognised the heavy footsteps of the principal speaker. he kept walking up and down the room, occasionally muttering to himself. jack was on the point of dropping off to sleep when again the door opened gently, and another person entered hurriedly. "ah, ellis, what news do you bring?" asked the occupier of the room. "bad news indeed, sir george," answered the other. "i was in the neighbourhood of the residence of the earl of portland two days back, when i saw captain fisher passing by. although he was disguised i knew him, and, aware that he was acquainted with all our secrets, i followed him closely. i watched him till he entered the earl's house, and, though lord portland himself was out, he remained there till the return of his lordship. this made me dread that his purpose was to denounce us. i was made sure of this, when, after waiting a considerable time, lord portland himself came forth, and drove at full speed to the palace. still i had no certain information of what fisher had been about, and i therefore kept the matter secret; watching only carefully the proceedings of all those who are acquainted with our plot. i kept a watch also at the earl's door, and at length received notice that captain pendergrast had also visited the earl; and only this very night i have obtained information that he and la rue have both been at the palace. as you know, also, this morning the king gave orders that his coaches and guards should be made ready to go out hunting as usual, but suddenly, just at the moment they were to set forth, notice was sent to them that the king was unwell, and could not go abroad that day. putting these things together, i am sure that the king has been warned of our plot, and that those who are in it will ere long be seized. he probably now only waits till he has learned the names of our party, and ascertained where each of us are to be found." "ellis, you deserve my gratitude!" exclaimed long sam. "it is time then that each of us should seek his safety in flight. i shall be off this moment; and i will leave the raw youth i have brought with me from the north to pay the score as best he can. he knows nothing; and if he is taken up and clapped into prison, he can do me no harm. will you come with me? here's a horse at your service." "thank you, sir george," answered the other man, "i have business to do which must be done this night, in london, and i hope to get on board ship before daybreak and be off for france. i will not delay longer here." saying this, ellis took a hurried departure, uttering but a short farewell to his companion. long sam immediately followed him out of the room. jack sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes to be sure that he had not been dreaming. "this, then, is the plot in which mr harwood has been engaged," he thought to himself. "i can serve him best by giving him information that it has been discovered. if i remain long here, i shall probably, as long sam observes is likely, be seized and sent to prison. instead of paying the score, i will leave the horses to do that, and take the one which will most quickly carry me along the road to sherwood forest." jack, on this, quickly dressed himself in a rough riding-habit, and packed his other garments into his valise. having loaded his pistols and seen to their priming, he stuck them in his belt, and, carrying his valise under his arm, with his boots in his hand, he silently stole down-stairs. without difficulty he found his way into the room where the conspirators had met; then, putting on his boots, he made his way to the stables. he dared not strike a light, but, knowing well the positions of the horses, and the place where the saddles were hung up, he hoped to find no difficulty in getting off. he quickly opened the stable-door, and was about to enter, when a deep voice exclaimed, "stand, or you're a dead man!" he felt sure the person who spoke was long sam. "don't fire," he answered, calmly, "you will gain nothing by so doing!" "then tell me what you are about to do, youngster," exclaimed long sam, stepping forth, leading a horse by the bridle. "i have as much right to take a midnight ride as you have," answered jack. "i don't wish to stop you, but if you go your way, i claim a right to go mine." "you are crowing loudly, my lad!" said long sam, with a curse. "i have no wish to crow," answered jack, "but if you have to ride to save your life, i wish to do the same to save my liberty. if you attempt to stop me i will give the alarm, and you well know what the consequences will be. you wish to make a tool of me--you will find that if you still attempt to do so, you will cut your own fingers." "you are a sharp lad," answered long sam, or sir george barclay, for jack before long had reason to know that such was the real name of his late companion. "you have found out a great deal more than i supposed. however, i believe you honest: and now make the best of your way out of this city. if you can give notice to any of our friends that they are in danger, you will be rendering them an important service, which, perhaps, some day or other they will be able to repay; and if not, you may rest satisfied that you have performed a kind action." saying this, sir george led his horse through the gateway of the inn, which was left ajar, probably by pre-arrangement, and disappeared in the darkness. jack quickly saddled the steed which had been bestowed on him by master pearson, and took his way northward by the road along which he had come to hammersmith. as soon as he was at a distance from any houses, he clapped spurs to his horse and galloped over the ground at as fast a rate as the bad state of the roads would allow. chapter twenty. a ride for liberty. while jack is galloping towards sherwood forest, we will give a short description of the plot which had been designed for the overthrow of william of orange and the restoration of james the second to the throne of england, and the re-establishment of romanism throughout the realm. the adherents of james, who desired to retain him on the throne of england in spite of his attempts to establish a despotic government, and to restore the roman catholic religion in the country, were called by their opponents "jacobites." a large number of them belonged themselves to the church of rome, and, instigated by their priests, many of whom, in consequence of the liberality of king william, were allowed to remain in the country, were with other discontented persons continually plotting for the restoration of king james. at length, the two plots which have been hinted at in the previous pages were concocted. one, in which mr harwood and a number of noblemen and gentlemen of honourable character were engaged, had for its object the rising of the jacobites generally throughout england, while louis the fourteenth undertook to send an army of , men to their assistance. this was about the year . at the same time, another plot of an atrocious character was either proposed to james or suggested by him. he had himself, by this time, become thoroughly imbued with jesuit principles, being surrounded by priests of that order. at all events, there is no doubt that the plot met with his cordial sanction. the plan proposed was to assassinate william as he was on his way to hunt in richmond park. while the country by his death was thrown into a state of confusion, the jacobites were to fly to arms and the french army was to cross the channel. towards the end of , the duke of berwick, a natural son of charles the second, came over secretly to england to try the temper of the jacobites, louis having promised to send his troops across immediately that they should rise. the duke landed in romney marsh, where he took up his abode at the house of a smuggler of the name of robert hunt. by means of this man he was enabled to transmit the information he received to france. it appears, however, that the jacobites were unwilling to risk their lives by rising while william remained firmly seated on the throne, dreading the arm of that bold and sagacious monarch. there is no doubt, that in consequence of the failure of the duke of berwick's attempt in england to induce his friends to rise in arms, james and louis agreed to the plot which had before been suggested for the assassination of william. the king was to be murdered on the th of february, as he was leaving his palace at kensington to hunt in richmond park. now it appears that a few days before this, james left paris, and journeyed to calais, where he set himself at the head of an army of about , men, who were drawn out of the garrisons which lay near the frontier. a considerable fleet also assembled there from dunkirk and other ports, while transports, and more men-of-war to convoy them over, were also brought together. several regiments indeed were already embarked while james waited at calais, and no one can doubt that he remained there to receive the first notice of the projected assassination. louis had communicated to the various courts in which he had ministers, the facts that he had acknowledged james king of england, and that he purposed to invade that country to re-establish him on the throne. at this time william had a large fleet at spithead, and an army attached to him, while the larger part of the nation were desirous that he should remain their king. with all of these facts louis was well acquainted, and there can be no doubt that he was himself also aware of the intended assassination, as he had far too much sense to suppose that while william lived any invasion of england would have been successful. the chief promoter of the scheme for the invasion of england was sir john fenwick, a baronet of good family, but it does not appear that he was in any way connected with the assassination plot. sir john friend, a city knight, was also implicated in this plot. the earl of aylesbury and lord montgomery, with many others, were also connected with it. charnock, sir william parkyns, rookwood, lowick, cranburn, knightley were among the chief persons engaged in the assassination plot. the conspirators were to be scattered about turnham green in taverns and ale-houses, and to be brought together upon a signal being given. each body of them was under a leader, so as to give the proceeding the air of a military act. while some were to attack the king's guards, others had been especially selected to shoot at the king himself. james had sent over a number of his own body-guard to be in readiness to support the conspirators. it appears, however, that the military men engaged in the work were very unwilling to undertake it, unless they received a commission from james himself. this document was therefore drawn up and signed by the king, and on seeing it, some of them imagined that the undertaking in which they engaged, although of a somewhat desperate character, was as honourable as that of entering into a campaign in regular service. some, however, felt great doubts about the matter, as they could not help viewing it in its true light. among these were two captains, pendergrast, an irish officer, and fisher, an englishman, and a frenchman named de la rue, who without any agreement with each other, at different times gave information to the earl of portland of the contemplated assassination of the king. william at first was very unwilling to believe in the plot, and it was not without difficulty that the earl of portland could persuade his majesty not to go forth on his hunting expedition on that eventful th day of february. the greater number of the conspirators not having received such early information as did sir george barclay, continued to meet, even on that very day, hoping still to carry out their plan on the following saturday. they were nearly all seized, most of them in their beds, before they had received any notice of the discovery of the plot. charnock, who had been a fellow of magdalen college, oxford, and had become its popish vice-president, was an indefatigable agent of the jacobites. so completely imbued had he become with jesuitical principles, that he had persuaded himself that he had full right to murder the king, having as he supposed a commission from the person he considered the legal proprietor of the throne. he offered to disclose all he knew of the consultations and designs of the jacobites, if his life were spared, and the reply of king william is worthy of note: "i desire not to know them," feeling assured probably, that many were in it whom he hoped still to win over by generosity and kindness. sir john friend and sir william parkyns were next tried, and were executed, on being found guilty, at tyburn, on which occasion three of the non-juring clergy attended them, and had the audacity at the place of execution to give them public absolution, with an imposition of hands in the view of all people, for the act in which they had been engaged. sir john fenwick, was captured shortly after the discovery of the plot, while attempting to escape to france. his trial lasted for a considerable time. he was, however, clearly found guilty, and executed. he richly merited the fate he met, for although he did not propose to assassinate the king, his aim was to bring over an army of foreigners, and subjugate those of his countrymen who differed from him in opinion, and to re-establish the romish faith in england. the people had before this been grumbling at the british fleet being detained so long at spithead by contrary winds, but it was the presence of this fleet which contributed greatly to prevent james from attempting to cross the channel with an army placed under his command by the french king. immediately also on hearing of the plot, a number of seamen who had remained concealed for fear of the press-gangs, came forward and volunteered on board the various ships which had commenced fitting out. indeed the discovery of this abominable jacobite plot had such an effect upon the nation generally, that many who formerly pitied the condition of the exiled king, were now completely alienated from him, by this means producing a more perfect establishment of king william on the throne. john deane's residence in the fens, and the experience he there gained in finding his way across country, assisted him greatly in the ride he was now taking northward. he had carefully noted every spot as he came by with long sam, and he was thus able to ride forward without having to inquire the road. his nerves were well strung and he was constitutionally brave; but never before had he felt so uncomfortable as he now did. every moment he expected to have long sam galloping after him; and he felt very sure that those who contemplated the assassination of the king would not hesitate to kill him, if they fancied it would conduce to their safety or interest to put him out of the way. he could not help expecting also to be stopped by adherents of king william who might have heard of the plot and would naturally inquire why he was thus spurring onward away from london. they might, he thought, suppose that he was one of the conspirators. it could be shown that he had been associating with those who had engaged in the plot. he might thus probably from being unable to prove his innocence, lose his life along with them. he rode on through that long winter's night without stopping. his horse was well trained, having both spirit and bottom; and thus daylight found him still pressing onward. at length he was obliged to pull up at the sign of the fox and chickens, a small roadside inn some fifty miles or more from london. the landlord eyed him askance as he led his horse into the stable, and began carefully to rub down the animal, to prepare it for its food. "will it please you to take some breakfast, my master?" asked boniface, with a peculiar expression. "you seem to have ridden pretty hard since sunrise?" "yes," answered jack; "my poor beast has borne me well. he has a few more miles to go before i can stable him for the night; and he needs rest and refreshment more than i do after his gallop over these bad roads." "i will go in and tell my dame to get breakfast for you," said the landlord, "while you are looking after your horse. i like to see a man treat his beast well, as you are doing; and you deserve the best rasher my dame can cook for you." the landlord was as good as his word; and when shortly afterwards jack entered the inn, he found a dish smoking on the board, and a tankard of good ale standing by its side. his anxiety had not deprived him of his appetite; and he resolved, if his horse could hold out, to push on till nightfall. he, however, was not perfectly satisfied with the manner of his host, and could not help fancying that he suspected him of being either a highwayman or a fugitive from justice; and every time the door opened, he expected to see a bailiff or a government official of some sort enter, to interrogate him as to what he was about and where he was going. he fully experienced the truth of shakspeare's saying, "conscience does make cowards of us all"! as soon, therefore, as he thought his horse was in a condition again to take to the road, he started up, and paying his score, walked out to the stables. the landlord followed him, and touched him on the shoulder. "i like your looks, young master," he said; "but still there are one or two things about you which might excite suspicion. i would advise you, therefore, not to stop at any large town, if you have again to put up before you reach your destination." jack, while he thanked the landlord for his kind intentions, put on an indifferent air, as if his advice was unnecessary, and springing into the saddle, wished him good-day, and trotted at an easy pace till he was out of sight of the inn. he then once again put spurs to his steed, and away he flew along the road master pearson had not over-praised his horse when he told him that at a push he could cover a long distance, for, bad as was the road in many places, the good steed never stumbled nor hesitated, but kept up his pace, as if well aware that much depended on the progress he could make. the farther north jack advanced the better he knew the country; and as he found that it would be impossible to get to the other side of nottingham that night, he turned aside off the high-road, to put up at the house of a miller, where he had several times stopped when making holiday excursions from nottingham. the man was hearty and good-natured, with a buxom, kind wife, and a pretty little daughter. he thought he might there possibly gain some information of what had taken place at home, and be guided accordingly. he might probably also, should his own good steed be unable to proceed, obtain another horse from the miller, on which to continue his journey to harwood grange. it was getting dark as jack rode up to the mill, and he found the miller knocking off work and disconnecting his water-wheels. "don't you know me, master simpson?" said jack, as the miller stared at him from beneath his well-powdered brows. "ay, in troth, that do i! mr john deane, if i mistake not," answered the honest miller. "why, lad, you seem to have ridden hard this evening! what is your pleasure?" "a night's rest, and some food for my horse and myself," answered jack, dismounting. "you will give it me, like a kind man, and ask no questions. i have business of importance which takes me some distance from hence, and i'm afraid if i were to ride on through the night with my tired steed, that we both of us should roll in the mud before day dawns." the miller made jack welcome; and, having stabled his horse as usual, he was soon seated opposite pretty margery simpson, by the side of the kind dame. jack had to confess that he had not been at home for some time, in order to make inquiries respecting his friends at nottingham. he could, however, gain no information; but the miller told him that as soon as the roads dried up a little with the march winds, he purposed going there. it struck jack, therefore, that by this means he might communicate with his family, and fortunately having some paper in his valise, he was able to write a few lines to his brother jasper. he told him of his welfare, and that he purposed immediately going on board a man-of-war, and seeking his fortunes at sea. "i will not enter into my reasons, brother jasper," he wrote; "but i find the land not suited for me, and i wish to prove my loyalty to our brave king william, and to seek for adventures on the ocean, where, i have an idea, more gold, and as much honour is to be gained as on shore." jack sent his best love to his father and mother and sisters, and begged that they would not forget him, or condemn him, whatever they might hear to his discredit. he carefully sealed this letter, which master simpson promised faithfully to deliver either to jasper, or to polly, should the former be absent from home. "now, master simpson, i will ask you still another favour; the moon will be up in four or five hours: let me sleep till then, and allow me to rise and proceed on my way. i shall thus reach the end of my journey soon after daybreak, where i can get further rest for myself and horse." although the good miller at first objected to this, jack induced him to agree to let him take his departure. the air was bitterly cold, for the wind was from the north and a sharp frost had set in, and jack feared lest a snowstorm should come on and impede his progress. he was therefore thankful that he had started at that early hour, hoping without impediment to reach harwood grange. his good steed, after a few hours' rest, carried him as well as when he first started from hammersmith, and the sun had only just risen as he rode up the avenue to the grange. he was anxious to make as little disturbance as possible, and he therefore at once rode up to the stable, and begged the groom to attend to his horse while he went up to the house. the man, who did not know him, seemed indisposed at first to obey his orders. "it is a matter of importance," said jack; "and i may have but little time to rest my tired beast." as the housemaid was just opening the front door, jack entered, and learned that the squire was already on foot, and that mistress alethea would soon be down to breakfast. jack hurried into the squire's own room, where he was examining several fire-arms, placed against the wall. "mr harwood," he exclaimed, "i fear that you are in danger! if you have been connected with those engaged in the conspiracy to bring over a foreign army, and to dethrone king william, let me urge you to fly or to conceal yourself. the plot has been discovered!" mr harwood turned deadly pale on hearing this, and trembled in every limb. "i am deeply thankful to you for the warning you have given me," he answered. "but what am i to do? i cannot leave my daughter, and know not where to conceal myself." "mistress alethea will surely find a welcome and shelter in the house of my father," answered jack. "i will endeavour to assist you to escape to a place of safety. it may be that no one will search for you here; but if you think it more advisable to go abroad, i will accompany you either to yarmouth or harwich, where you may take ship and get across to france." mr harwood overwhelmed jack with thanks, and gladly accepted his offer. their plans were scarcely arranged when alethea entered the room. she showed far more courage than her father had done on hearing of the discovery of the plot, though anxious about his safety. she at once declared her intention of accompanying him. "that cannot be, my child!" said mr harwood. "you know not the difficulties and dangers i may have to go through; and though you might be willing to share them, they must of necessity be greatly increased should you be with me. we have friends in this neighbourhood who will, i am sure, take charge of you. with them you will live happily and securely; and i trust that in a short time, when this matter has blown over, i may be able to return once more to england." jack's heart beat violently when he heard these remarks of mr harwood. "oh, yes!" he exclaimed; "i feel sure that my mother and sisters will gladly afford all the protection miss harwood requires. i wish that i could accompany her to nottingham. could i not do it, and rejoin you, mr harwood?" "what, and run the risk of being apprehended yourself?" exclaimed the squire. "no; i will send alethea under the escort of two trusty grooms with her tirewoman, and will throw myself on the kindness of your family. already i am deeply indebted to them, and shall but add to the obligation." the squire spoke with some hesitation. even at that moment his aristocratic feelings influenced him, and he felt as if he was honouring the deane family by thus confiding his daughter to their charge. some time had thus passed when the squire recollected that jack must require food. "it would never do to set forward without being prepared," he observed. "take your breakfast with alethea, while i go and put together such valuables as it may be prudent for me to carry; and you, my daughter, will take the remainder, for i know not, should i be informed against, what will be the fate of the old grange and of the estate my fathers have held for so many centuries." jack, as he sat by the side of alethea endeavouring to eat his breakfast, in vain tried to utter the sentiments with which his heart was full. whenever he attempted to speak he hesitated and stammered, and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. alethea was more serious, naturally, than he had ever seen her before. "i foresaw that it might come to this," she said, at last, to jack. "but, do you know, i rather glory in suffering for what i believe to be a right cause!" "but oh, miss harwood," exclaimed jack, now able to speak, "surely no cause would justify the means by which the conspirators have attempted to carry out their project--to murder the great and brave king! surely nothing can justify assassination!" "oh, no, no!" exclaimed alethea. "but surely those with whom my father was associated have not attempted to commit so fearful a crime?" "most certainly the crime was contemplated," answered jack. "i heard the whole plan discussed, but whether mr harwood's especial friends were acquainted with it or not, i cannot say; but of one thing i feel very sure, from what i heard, that james was well aware of the project, and sanctioned it by the countenance he gave to those who undertook to carry it out." "if i were sure of that," exclaimed alethea, with a tone of indignation, "my whole feelings towards king james would be changed! while i thought him an honourable and an injured man, and the rightful sovereign of these realms, my feelings were in his favour; but if his principles would allow him to act as you describe, then i cannot but feel that the nobles and commons of england were right in their dread of having such a man to reign over them." "i wish mr harwood had seen matters in that light before he allowed himself to be drawn into the plot!" said jack. "perhaps, however, he may now be induced to do so. if so, when those who have principally engaged in it have suffered the penalty of their crimes, he will probably be allowed to return home, and live quietly as heretofore. for my own part, as i have been consorting with the king's enemies, though unknowingly, i have determined, from henceforth, to fight for him and his friends, and to try my fortune on the ocean. it will be more to my taste than being pinched up in breastplate and helmet, and having to fight on shore. i may there win a name and fame, alethea; and perchance when i come back i may look forward to--" whatever jack was going to say was interrupted by the entrance of mr harwood. as may be supposed, he had but a small appetite for breakfast, though pressed by his daughter, who in every way tried to keep up his spirits, to partake of it. the steward and head groom were ordered to accompany miss harwood into nottingham, while his own fleetest hunter was to be got ready to start as soon as jack's horse was sufficiently rested. in vain jack waited for an opportunity to finish the sentence he had begun, for having, as he thought, broken the ice, he hoped to get yet farther in, but just as the party were rising from breakfast, which had been put off to a later hour than usual, a visitor was announced, and jasper deane entered the room. his surprise at seeing jack was very great. they greeted each other, however, as affectionate brothers, though jasper refrained from asking jack questions which it might have been disagreeable to him to answer in the presence of alethea and mr harwood. "i am sure, jasper, you will answer for our parents being ready to receive miss harwood," said jack, "during the temporary absence of her father. i have brought him some news, with which i need not trouble you, which requires him to leave home immediately." "why not trust me?" answered jasper; "surely i would not betray mr harwood's secrets!" "for your own sake it may be better for you not to know them," answered jack. "it is time that we should be on our road. bear my duty to my father and mother and my love to our sisters, and i will write to them of my proceedings as soon as i have an opportunity." jack saw that mr harwood was impatient to be off, while he himself knew the importance of losing no time in getting to a place of safety; he had no opportunity, therefore, of asking jasper questions as to what had taken place at nottingham, nor did he himself wish to tell him what he had been about. he merely mentioned his letter entrusted to the miller. "that will tell you more about my intentions," he observed. if a pang of jealousy crossed his heart when he saw his brother ride off by the side of alethea, he quickly banished it, and immediately afterwards he and mr harwood, with their valises strapped to their saddles, were making their way through the forest to the east. chapter twenty one. john deane turns sailor, and joins the "weymouth," captain jumper. at no time for many years had there been greater activity in the chief naval ports of england than in february, . all the ships in the service were ordered to be brought forward, and as many more as could be obtained were purchased for the royal navy. officers and men eagerly offered their services; indeed the enthusiasm of all ranks and professions was very great. numerous seamen from the merchant service joined the navy, and there was no lack of volunteers eager to be employed. a squadron lay in the medway, fitting out as quickly as stores could be brought on board them and the men could be collected. among them was the "weymouth," a ship of forty guns, commanded by the well-known captain jumper. her sails were bent, and she only waited for her powder to be brought on board to go to sea, as soon as she could fill up with her proper complement of men. a boat had just come alongside, and the first lieutenant reported that she contained a number of volunteers. among the first who stepped on board was a fine, active-looking young man, though, to the nautical eye, he had not much the look of a sailor. "where have you served before, my man?" asked mr cammock, the first lieutenant; "and what do you know of seamanship?" "i have served nowhere, please you, sir," was the answer, "but i am ready to learn. and i know how to handle a cutlass, and shoot a partridge or pheasant flying." "you are the lad for us then," answered the officer. "what is your name? we will enter you as a landsman; but you will soon make an able seaman." "john deane, at your service, sir," answered our friend; for he it was who, having put his purpose of joining the navy into execution, had volunteered for the "weymouth." it was the first time he had ever stood on the deck of a ship. no wonder then that he gazed about him with a look of astonishment, at the guns thickly ranged on either side; at the numerous brass swivels and other pieces which graced her quarters and forecastle, and the high lanterns of brass astern; at the numberless ropes which led here and there from the masts and spars, with their ends neatly coiled down on deck; at the seamen, in their loose dresses, shirts, and trousers, with belts round their waists, contrasting with the officers in their three-cornered hats and long coats, laced with gold or silver, large embroidered belts by which hung their rapiers--each dressed rather according to his fancy and means, than to any authorised uniform. a number of other men were then called up. among the first was one whose countenance jack thought he knew. he looked at him several times, till at length it struck him that it must be the very man who had guided him to pearson's farm in the fens--ned burdale. there was the same sturdy, independent look, bold eye, and manner. what, however, had induced him to enter on board a king's ship, jack could not divine. at all events, he felt it would be wise in him not to claim acquaintance with a person of so doubtful a character. he little expected to find any body else whom he had met before; but he had not been long on board, when a seaman came up to him, and, putting out his hand, exclaimed-- "what, jack deane, don't you know me?" "yes," said jack, at last, wringing him by the hand; "but i should not have recognised you in that dress and with that ugly cut down your cheek, if i did not remember your voice." "yes; i have seen some service already," answered the seaman. "i have a bullet through my leg, and this pretty little remembrance on my cheek; but it's what we have to expect. we're paid for it, you know; and besides, we give as good as we take, and that's a consolation." "but what made you come to sea?" asked jack. "i had no idea you had any fancy that way." "i may ask the same question of you, friend deane," said smedley, for it was jack's old poaching acquaintance. "the honest truth is, i found nottingham too hot to hold me, and so here i am come to serve his majesty. it is a pretty hard life, i will own; but i have brought myself into it, and so i have determined not to grumble." "well, i have my own reasons, too, smedley, for coming to sea," said jack, "but you will excuse me if i don't explain them. i hope we may both do our duty, and fight bravely for our country. that's what i have come to sea for, with the hope of seeing a little more of the world than i should if i had remained at nottingham, or continued to drive oxen between scotland and stourbridge." smedley, who had already been some weeks at sea, was able to give jack a good deal of instruction in his duties, and found him an apt scholar. jack was determined to make himself a seaman as soon as he could. from morning till night he was employed in picking up information, and he soon gained some knowledge in the arts of knotting and splicing. he quickly, too, found his way aloft; and though at first he felt rather giddy at the mast-head, his eye soon got accustomed to look down on the deck below, and he could run out on the yards in a short time with any man on board. he soon, indeed, surpassed smedley himself. the man he took to be burdale, from the way he walked the deck, was evidently accustomed to a sailor's life. so rapidly were the ships got ready for sea, that in a short time a large fleet was collected in the downs under the command of admiral russell. he had under him lord berkeley, admiral of the blue, and sir cloudesley shovel, vice-admiral of the red; mr aylmer, vice-admiral of the blue, with two dutch squadrons under two rear-admirals. as soon as the fleet was collected, they set sail for the coast of france, arriving shortly afterwards off dunkirk. it was here that the celebrated french admiral, jean bart, held the command of a french fleet. as the english fleet passed calais, three or four hundred vessels of all sorts were seen with their sails bent ready for sea. as soon as the french saw the english fleet approaching dunkirk, several of their men-of-war ran close up to the pier. hopes were now entertained by the english crews that some fighting would take place. sir cloudesley shovel, with several captains, stood in towards dunkirk, to see if there was any possibility of burning the fleet. this, however, was declared to be impracticable, and admiral russell therefore sailed back to dover, leaving a squadron under sir cloudesley shovel, to watch the movements of the enemy. a short time after this, sir cloudesley shovel, who had returned to the downs, was ordered to take with him the bomb-vessels, and such small ships as he should think necessary; and attempt the burning of calais with the transports, and other ships in that harbour. calais was soon in sight. the english could see the harbour crowded with vessels, which as they approached, however, ran close up under their batteries where the ships could not get at them. the wind was off shore, which gave them smooth water; and the squadron, in gallant style, beat up as near to the town as the water would allow. they now anchored, their men-of-war protecting the bomb-vessels, which instantly commenced throwing shells into the place. it was a fine sight to see them, like vast rockets, rising in the air and curling over, until they fell into the devoted town. for several hours the fiery shower continued. now flames were seen to burst out in one part of the town, now in another; and now the vessels in the harbour caught fire; several in succession exploded. as each of the enemy's vessels blew up, the english crews burst forth with loud cheers, and redoubled their efforts. the enemy were not idle, but the english ships were so placed that not many of the french shot did damage. the shipping in the harbour suffered most, as the chief aim of the english was to destroy them, and a large number of privateers were blown up or burned. a strong wind was blowing when the action began, and it continued increasing, till the squadron could with difficulty hold their position before the town. still the english persevered. a large portion of the town was burnt down, and a considerable amount of shipping was destroyed. such would have been the fate of the whole, had not the gale at length compelled sir cloudesley shovel to throw out a signal for retiring. this was done in good order, and the squadron returned to the downs. soon after this, a squadron of which the "weymouth" formed one of the ships, was sent to cruise off dunkirk, where it was understood that jean bart, with several ships of war, was still lying ready for sea. rear-admiral benbow was placed in command of this squadron; but on his arrival before the place, he found the number of ships he had with him too small to guard both channels; the weather, also, proving extremely foggy, du bart slipped out, and, steering to the north-east, fell in with the dutch baltic fleet of about a hundred sail, escorted by five frigates, all of which he took, and above half the merchantmen. in the midst of du bart's victory, he was surprised by the appearance of the dutch outward-bound baltic fleet, under the convoy of thirteen men-of-war, which so closely pursued him that he was obliged to abandon most of his prizes. he burned four of the frigates, and putting their crews on board the fifth, turned her adrift, which, with thirty-five of the merchant-ships, were retaken. a fast galley brought this news to admiral benbow, who immediately steered in pursuit of the french squadron. the "weymouth" was one of the leading ships. jack deane, who was now rated as an able seaman, was constantly at the mast-head looking out for the enemy, eager as any on board to come up with them. "several sail ahead!" he shouted out one morning at daybreak. there was no doubt that this was the enemy. the signal was thrown out accordingly, and the english crowded all sail in chase. the wind, however, which was in their favour, began to fall, and, greatly to their disappointment, it became almost a calm. the frenchmen, however, retained the breeze, and were soon again out of sight. in vain the english seamen whistled for a wind. noon passed by, and still they remained becalmed. whether it was their whistling or not produced the breeze, one sprung up towards evening, and the brave benbow steered after the french. again they were discovered, and again lost sight of. once more their white canvas was seen ahead, and hopes were entertained that they would be overtaken before they could reach the shelter of dunkirk, towards which they were steering. they, however, made good use of their heels, and before a shot could reach them they had run into dunkirk. the fleets of england were, however, enabled to punish the french severely for their audacious project of invading our "tight little island," and for their still more nefarious plan, which had been hatched under the sanction of their king, for assassinating the constitutional and protestant monarch whom her people had chosen, and imposing on them in his stead a papist and a tyrant. jack kept his eyes and ears open, and picked up all the information he could as to what was going forward in all directions. he had resolved when he joined to become an officer, and he knew very well that the only way of accomplishing his object was to attend strictly to his duties, to be obedient to his superiors, and to gain all the information in his power. among the novelties which had lately been introduced into the ships of the royal navy were brass box-compasses. these were placed in front of the steering-wheels, and were a great improvement upon the former contrivances for the same object. a large number of ships having been wrecked on the eddystone rock, off plymouth, an application was made to the trinity house to erect a lighthouse on it, which was begun that very year, and it was supposed that it would be completed in the course of the next three years. the masters and owners of ships agreed to pay a penny per ton outwards and inwards to assist in defraying the expense. a register for thirty thousand seamen was established. they were to be in readiness at all times for supplying the royal navy, and were to receive a bounty of forty shillings yearly. on the th of january of that year, the "royal sovereign," built in the reign of charles the first, and at that time the largest ship ever built in england, was by accident burned at her moorings in gillingham reach, in the river medway. "well, deane, and how do you like a sea life?" asked smedley, after jack had been some time on board. "i will tell you when i've been longer afloat," answered jack. "from what i have seen of it, i am ready to stick to it; that's what i've got to say. and how do you like it?" "to confess the truth, i am getting rather tired of it," answered smedley. "i thought it would be an easier life than i find it, but this cruising up and down the channel and blockading the enemy's ports is trying work, and often i wish myself on shore again, taking a stroll or galloping through sherwood forest." "that's because you have not a right object in view," answered jack. "now i have made up my mind to take the roughs and smooths as i find them. if i get shot or wounded, it is the fate of many a better man; and if i escape, i hope to fight my way up to wear a cocked hat and laced coat." "that's very well for you, deane, because you were born a gentleman," said smedley. "i came to sea because i could not help it: all about that poaching affair, and the burning of the houses." "i wish we had never engaged in it, i own," said jack. "it has cost me dear; and what i regret most is the injury it did my character in the place, and the annoyance it must have caused my family when it was found out." "what do you mean?" asked smedley. "i do not understand you." "why, that the man who met us on that night, and showed us how to spear the salmon, told me that a warrant was out against me for poaching and firing the huts, and that if i went back to nottingham i should be sent to prison," answered jack. "he told you a lie, then. your name has never been mentioned in connexion with the affair; and to this day, unless you have told any body, i am very sure that no one in nottingham knows any thing about it." "then what object could pearson have had for saying so?" said jack. "i have an idea," said smedley; "i may be right or i may be wrong; and from what you have told me of the man, he has just wanted to keep you from going back to nottingham. why he did so i cannot exactly say, except that he probably wanted to make use of you in some way or other." the light at length burst on jack's mind, and at once he saw the danger of getting into bad company. had he refrained from joining in that fatal expedition, he would not have met pearson; and if he had not met pearson, he would never have been drawn into the plot which had so nearly cost him dear. perhaps even his life might have been sacrificed in consequence! he did not say this to smedley, because he had determined not to say any thing to him about the plot in which he had been unintentionally mixed up. "it shall be a lesson to me through life," he thought. "if a person once associates with evil-disposed people, he knows not how soon he may be led to do as they're doing." often he thought of honest will brinsmead and his wise sayings, and the advice he had bestowed on him. jack was every day becoming far more thoughtful than he had been hitherto. he was living among a wild, careless, rough set of men. most of them were brave and honest; but there were rogues and cowards among them. the greater number lived only for the present moment, and were utterly thoughtless about the future. now, john deane felt that he must either be drawn in to act as they were acting, and to become like them, or he must keep himself as much as possible aloof from them. this, however difficult it might be, he determined to do. in former days laws had been passed, not only to maintain a discipline in the navy, but for regulating the moral conduct of the men. there were regulations against profane swearing, or gambling, or fighting, or quarrelling; and orders were issued for the performance of divine service, not only on sundays, but on weekdays, and on every occasion before going into action with an enemy. unhappily, however, by this time this had become a dead-letter; and a general indulgence was allowed to the seamen in all the vices which have been mentioned. the men were also badly and tyrannically treated; and often their pay was kept back from them. the provisions were frequently very bad, and the greater number of men who were sent as surgeons on board the ships were grossly ignorant of their professional duties. still the love of adventure existing in the breasts of english lads, the opportunities which seamen enjoyed of obtaining prize-money, and the efforts of the press-gangs, kept the royal navy tolerably supplied with men. a large number also joined, whatever can be said to the contrary, from patriotic motives, desirous of maintaining the honour of the british flag, protecting the commerce of the country, and guarding their native shores from foreign aggression. such was the feeling which animated the breasts of thousands when jack deane joined the navy. such is the feeling which has induced many thousands more on various occasions, when their country needed their services to assist in manning her fleets. it was a great relief to jack deane to find that he still maintained an honourable name in his native town, and he at once wrote home in a strain he had not before ventured to use, telling his father, to whom he addressed his letter, that he had come to sea for the sake of fighting for the cause of king william, and that he hoped when he returned home to present himself in the rank of an officer. chapter twenty two. first sea-fight. john deane had soon the opportunity he had long wished for, of engaging in a naval fight. as the "weymouth" was cruising in the channel, a sail was seen on the lee bow. captain jumper immediately ordered the ship to be kept away, and clapped on all the canvas she could carry in chase. the stranger, on seeing this, bore away, but the "weymouth" was a fast ship, and rapidly came up with her. the drum beat to quarters, and the ship was prepared for action. shot were brought up from below and placed in the racks ready for use. the powder-magazine was opened, and the powder-boys were sent up with their tubs and arranged in rows along the deck, ready to supply the seamen who fought the guns with powder. the slow-matches were got ready, and pistols, boarding-pikes, and hangers served out to the men. jackets and shirts were discarded, and the crew stood ready, dressed alone in their trousers, with belts round their waists in which their pistols were stuck, and their hangers attached. there could be no doubt that the stranger was an enemy, though he had not yet shown his colours. few would have supposed that the crew who now stood at their guns were about in a short time to be engaged in deadly fight. jokes of all sorts were passed along the decks, and peals of laughter were indulged in, till silenced when they became too uproarious by the officers. jack found smedley standing close to him, both having been appointed to the same gun. a handkerchief was bound round his head to keep his hair, which in the fashion of seamen in those days was worn long, away from his eyes. he was as cool and collected as the rest of his shipmates, but did not seem inclined to join in the jokes in which they were indulging. "you seem somewhat out of spirits, jem!" said john deane. "what makes you so grave? we're sure to thrash the enemy, however big he may be." "just the thoughts of home, jack," answered smedley. "i was thinking just now whether i should not have been better off attending to my father's business, with the prospect of marrying pretty mary smithers, than out here, stripped to the waist, with a chance of having my head carried off before the day's over!" "nonsense, jem!" answered deane; "you should not let such thoughts trouble you. your head is as firm on your shoulders as that of any other man on board." "ay, but how many other men will lose theirs?" said smedley. "i cannot help thinking of home at all events, and though i may come out of this day's fight unscathed, i often wish i had remained quietly at home, without hankering after the sea. it all comes of that wild life we boys led in the forest. we did many things we ought not to have done, and it's to those i owe being out here. however, i will try to do my duty and bring no discredit on our native town." "i am sure you will not do that," said jack; "and i hope i shall see you throw up your cap with the rest of us, when the enemy strikes to our flag." as the "weymouth" drew near the stranger it was seen that she was a very large ship, considerably larger than the former, and probably carrying many more guns, with a more numerous crew. still this in no way daunted the courage of the british seamen, but only made them the more eager for the attack. most of them had already engaged in many a hard-fought battle with superior numbers, and come off victorious. they knew what british pluck and british muscle could do, and that if they could handle their guns twice as fast as the enemy could haul in and out theirs, that even should they have only half the number of their antagonist, they might still hope to beat her. jack had frequently spoken to the man whose countenance he thought he knew when he first came on board, but the latter denied ever having seen him before. jack now saw him standing at a gun not far from the one where he was stationed. the man looked very pale, and, like smedley, was not joining in the jokes of his shipmates. jack watched his countenance, and now was more convinced than ever that he was burdale. as the "weymouth" drew near, the stranger hoisted french colours, and finding that escape was impossible, hauled up her courses, and fired a gun in defiance, which was answered by one from the "weymouth." both of the shots, however, fell short of their aim. the combatants, without again firing, now rapidly drew near each other, with their flags and streamers flying and their trumpets loudly sounding. men armed with muskets were stationed in the large heavy round-tops, each holding a dozen or more soldiers, while others were stationed in the topgallant forecastle, and others at the poop. guns were also placed inside the forecastle, as also under the poop, with their muzzles turned in-board, so that should the enemy attempt to board, the decks might be swept by their fire. these guns, however, were not loaded with round-shot, but with langrage, which, by scattering around, might kill a number of persons at each discharge. the wind was moderate, the sea tolerably smooth. captain jumper stood in the mizen-rigging directing the movements of his ship, while the other officers were stationed in different parts in command of the guns, some on the upper and main-deck, others on the forecastle and poop. the surgeons were below in the cock-pit, getting ready their instruments, and lint, and bandages, and preparing the tables on which amputation when necessary might be performed. here also were restoratives arranged, for those who might faint from loss of blood. they had taken a look at the enemy, and aware from her superior size that the fight would be a desperate one, were coolly talking over the amount of work in store for them. not a word was now spoken along the decks, for all jokes were silenced by command of the officers. the captains of the guns stood ready with their slow-matches in their hands, prepared to fire at the signal being given. already the two antagonists were within range of each other's artillery, but both waited to get still nearer that the greater effect might be produced by their fire. john deane could not help holding his breath, as did many a brave man on board, not from any sensation of fear, but from intense eagerness for the moment when the combat was to begin. they had not long to delay. captain jumper had contrived to place his ship in the position which british officers of all ages have wished to hold with regard to the enemy--that is, broadside to broadside; and now he saw that the wished-for moment had arrived. "fire!" he shouted. the word was echoed along the decks. the trumpets now brayed out their loudest sounds of defiance. the captains of the guns applied their matches, and the loud roar of artillery broke the silence which had hitherto reigned over the water. the frenchmen were not slow to answer, and their shot came crashing on board with terrible effect. many a fine fellow who had been laughing and joking with the rest was laid low. the white splinters were flying on either side, and ropes which had just before been trim and taut hung in festoons or flew out in the breeze, while many a shot-hole was seen through the sails. without a moment's delay the guns were hauled in. the powder-boys sprang up from their tubs and handed out the powder, which being quickly rammed home, the shot was thrown into the muzzle. again the guns were run out. no order was now required for firing, but as rapidly as the guns could be loaded they were discharged towards the enemy. thus for some time the english ship ran alongside her huge antagonist. her name painted on her stern was the "fougueux," and thirty ports were counted on each side. jack deane stood at his gun, hauling it in with right good will, and running it out still more eagerly as fast as his arms and those of his mates could work it, thinking of nothing else, and not looking round, even to see what had become of any of those near him. now and then he heard a groan or a cry, and as he turned round to hand on the powder or the shot, he saw perchance a poor fellow amidst the smoke struggling on the deck. next moment there was a loud crash close to him, and he found himself sprinkled over from head to foot with blood. he felt no pain, and scarcely knew whether it was his own or that of a shipmate. no sound was heard, but he saw that the man who had stood next to him the moment before was no longer there, but a few feet off a human being lay stretched on the deck. he was about to stoop down to help the man during the interval that the charge was being rammed home. "let him alone," said the captain of the gun; "he has drunk his last glass of grog. see, that's his blood which has turned you into a red indian. hurrah, lads! we'll revenge him, and all those who lose the number of their mess to-day!" all this time the small-arm men were not idle. showers of bullets were flying from the tops and forecastle, returned from those of the enemy. now an attempt was made by the "fougueux," by bracing up her yards, to cross under the stern of the "weymouth." this, however, was quickly prevented by captain jumper, by a similar manoeuvre, as he had no intention of giving up the advantageous position he held. it was impossible to ascertain the effect which the fire of the british ship was producing among the french crew, but jack could not help fearing that a considerable number of his shipmates were either killed or wounded. those who were wounded were immediately carried below, while the killed were borne to the other side of the deck, and slipped overboard through the ports, in order to avoid discouraging the survivors. still the fight continued with unabated fury. "fire away, my lads!" cried captain jumper; and his words were echoed by the officers in all directions. "we will sink the enemy or go down with our own colours flying. never let it be said that the `weymouth' had to strike to a frenchman!" the speech was a very short one, but it had its effect in encouraging the crew. scarcely a minute afterwards a fearful sound was heard. it was that of an explosion. and the ship trembled from stem to stern, while those on the quarter-deck saw the poop lifting up into the air, sending some of those on it overboard, and killing several others. "fire, fire!" was shouted; "the ship's on fire!" "we have water enough alongside, my lads, to extinguish it!" cried the captain, in an undaunted tone; and in an instant those of the crew not actually working the guns were hurried up with buckets, with which they soon put out the flames. the frenchmen shouted, thinking that they were about to gain the victory, but they were answered by a loud cheer of defiance from the british seamen. it became now absolutely necessary for the "weymouth" to stand away from the enemy for a short time to repair damages. the only fear of the british sailors was that in the meantime the enemy might attempt to escape. "no fear of that, lads!" cried the brave captain, who knew what they were speaking of. "see, we have made too many shot-holes between `wind and water,' and in a few minutes the main-mast will go by the board, if the wind increases." this was very evident, for while the "weymouth" put her helm down, to stand away from the "fougueux" for a short distance, the other immediately ceased firing. the survivors of her crew were probably engaged in attempting to repair the damages she had received. this gave the english leisure to perform their own work without interruption. jack as he was leaving his gun to go aloft, looked round him. of those who had stood but lately by his side, several were missing. smedley was nowhere to be seen. he inquired among the crew of his gun. "yes; a shot struck him and he was carried below, but whether mortally wounded or not, no one could tell." as he passed up the hatchway, the man whom he took to be burdale lay on the deck. a bullet which had found its way through a port had struck him down. he was bleeding also from a wound in his shoulder. jack sprang forward to assist him, but just at that instant the men who were appointed to carry the wounded below, lifted him off the deck, and bore him from his sight. the decks now presented a very different scene to that which they did a short hour ago. fore and aft they were covered with blood, and in many places they were blackened and torn up by the shot which had ploughed its way across them. the beams and stanchions in every direction were shattered and broken, and the whole ship showed the severity of the action in which she had been engaged. "we may be in a bad state enough," jack heard an old seaman say, "but if you were to go on board the enemy, you would see matters ten times worse. their decks, depend upon it, are slippery with gore all over, and for one man we have lost, they have lost five." there was little time, however, for talking. the officers were shouting here and there, giving their directions, and the men were springing aloft to obey them, or running wherever they were summoned. in a short time the ropes were knotted, the yards braced up, the damage done to the poop partially repaired, and the "weymouth" again stood towards her opponent. as she approached she was received with a hot fire, which she returned with interest, while the big guns once more with loud roars sent forth their shot. the soldiers and small-arm men rattled away with their musketry, and the swivels, culverins, and other small guns, in rapid succession added to the uproar by their sharper reports. bullets, round-shot, and langrage were flying thickly around. "depress your guns and fire at her hull!" cried the captain, seeing the effect that had already been produced on the enemy. as the frenchmen's fire grew slacker, that of the english became more and more brisk. scarcely had a gun been discharged when it was again hauled in and once more sent forth its deadly missile into the hull of the enemy. just as the action re-commenced, the enemy's main-mast went by the board. a loud shout burst from the throats of the british seamen. scarcely had it died away when the mizen-mast followed; and now the stout ship was seen to be heeling over. a cry ran along the decks, "she's sinking, she's sinking!" still her guns continued to send forth her shot, though with far less frequency than at first. another and another broadside was fired into her; and now it became evident that there was truth in the belief that she was about to go down. "cease firing!" cried the english captain. "not another shot will she discharge at us." as he spoke the bow of the "fougueux" was seen to rise out of the water. loud shrieks and cries rose from her decks. her stern gradually sank. "lower the boats!" cried the english captain. "be smart, my lads: we must save the poor fellows' lives." unhappily, several of the english boats had been almost knocked to pieces. those which could yet swim were immediately lowered. john deane jumped into one of the first that reached the water. ere, however, they could get up to the foundering ship, the sea had washed over her deck. down--down she went, carrying with her all her wounded and a large number of those who had escaped unhurt. the rest had thrown themselves into the water, some to swim, some holding on to planks or broken spars: but of these, many who had delayed leaving to the last, were drawn down in the vortex of the sinking ship. as the first english boat reached the spot, the streamer at her fore-royal-mast-head was alone to be seen fluttering for a moment above the eddying waters, and then downwards it was drawn after the mast to which it had been attached. some were still striking out bravely towards their late antagonists. the boats were soon among them, taking up all they met. many, however, sunk before the very eyes of the english sailors, as they pulled towards them. the boats were soon loaded, and returned to the "weymouth," fearing lest they should be swamped should they take on board any more of the struggling wretches. having handed up those they had saved, they once more returned; but, in the meantime, many of those they desired to help had sunk beneath the waves: and out of a crew of six or seven hundred who had lately manned that tall ship, scarcely three-score remained alive. they confessed that upwards of a hundred had been killed and wounded since the commencement of the action, owing, as they acknowledged, to the rapidity with which the english fired at them. thus the hard-won prize was lost. chapter twenty three. after the battle. the brave crew of the "weymouth" had enough to do to repair their own damages to escape a similar fate. as it was, the "weymouth" was in a perilous condition from the number of shot-holes she had received in her hull, and probably had a gale sprung up, she also would have gone to the bottom of the ocean. exhausted by the action as the men were, they still laboured away, as british seamen are ever ready to do, to repair damages, and to keep the ship afloat. a course was then shaped for plymouth sound. as soon as jack was able to go below, he inquired anxiously for smedley. he had been carried to the cock-pit. jack went there. it was the first time he had ever entered that place of horrors, and his heart sank, and he almost fainted at the sickly odour which reached him. as he approached it, cries and groans reached his ears. on the table lay a poor fellow stripped naked, looking already a corpse, on whose leg the surgeons had been operating. his leg, with several other limbs, lay in a basket of sawdust beneath the table. the blood had completely left his face, which still bore the marks of the agony he had suffered, which in those days there were few means of alleviating. one of the surgeons was pouring brandy-and-water down his throat, while another was applying burnt feathers and other restoratives to his nose. "it's of little use, i'm afraid," said the elder surgeon: "he has slipped through our fingers after all!" at first jack did not recognise the countenance of the sufferer. he looked again: the features were those of smedley! the surgeon spoke too truly; the previous loss of blood, and the agony he had suffered during amputation, had been more than his system could bear, and the lamp of life was already flickering in its socket. for an instant he returned to consciousness. jack went up to him and took his hand, while the surgeons continued to apply their remedies. "shall i bear any message to your friends at nottingham, poor jem?" he asked. a slight pressure of the hand was the only answer the sufferer could make. a sigh escaped his bosom. the surgeon put his hand upon his wrist. "he has gone, poor fellow! there's no calling him back!" he observed. "here, take the body away, and put ned jones in his place. his arm must come off, if i mistake not!" jack turned away with a sad heart. in the cots around were numerous forms. he was about to return on deck, when he recognised among them the countenance of burdale. the man's eyes followed jack, and seemed to ask him to return. he went up to him. "can i do any thing for you?" he asked. "we have met before, i think?" "we have; but you cannot help me much, i suspect. still, i thank you kindly for the offer. i knew you also when you came on board, and was glad to find that you had escaped the trouble into which i thought you would have fallen." the ice was thus broken, and jack, while wishing to be of use to the wounded man, whose time on earth he thought was likely to be short, determined to gain all the information he could from him respecting pearson, and the circumstances which had brought them together. as soon as the ship had been put to rights, those who could be removed were carried to the main-deck, and placed in a part screened off, called the sick-bay. here jack had an opportunity of visiting his wounded acquaintance whenever he chose. the man grew weaker and weaker, and seemed indeed to suspect that his own end was approaching. "deane," he said, "there's nobody on board this ship i can trust but you; for though you know little about me, i know you to be an honest young gentleman, and very different from the greater number of wild blades on board. i have a wife and child living at carlisle, and the poor girl does not know what has become of me, and never will, unless you will undertake, should you ever get on shore, to inform her. i had to leave the country in a hurry to save my life: for when they took to hanging a poor trumpeter for that affair of sir george barclay's, i felt very sure if i was caught hold of they would not spare me." "what! were you engaged in that fearful plot?" asked jack. "ay, lad, was i: you may well call it fearful!" answered burdale. "and i should think you were too, master deane, whether you knew it or not." "i am afraid that i was, though i did not know it," said jack. "still no man could have hated the thoughts of what was proposed to be done more than i did. but how were you mixed up with it, burdale?" "why, just in this way," was the answer. "the man whom you know as master pearson, though he has as many different names as there are days in the week, was once one of the most noted smugglers on the coast, and i for several years served under him. we also took two or three trips to the spanish main, where we had varied fortune; master pearson on all occasions got the lion's share. i was a youngster, and could not look after my own interests in those days. we came back with a couple of chests of gold, and plate, and jewels. somehow or other my master seemed to think that he had had enough of the sea. he met a lady, a real lady she was too, though i don't know her name, and he married her, and for the sake of her company he determined to remain on shore. he knew better how to make money than to keep it; and so did i for that matter, and in a short time the greater part of it was gone. however, he promised his wife not to go to sea, or we should soon have replenished our coffers. he set up, therefore, as a farmer and drover, though he did other turns of business as occasion offered. he understood as much about horses as he did about ships; and, as he had been accustomed to levy taxes on all merchantmen he met, with very little regard for the flag they carried, he now took to levying black-mail on shore. i, of course, joined him. what else could i do? pearson also hoped to make friends at court; and as he fully believed that king james would come back to rule over the land, he heartily entered into the jacobite plot, which has so signally failed." "then was it he who stopped our cattle as we were bound for stourbridge fair?" exclaimed jack, suddenly. "there's no doubt about it!" answered burdale. "he made old will pay pretty dear for his protection." "then were you the horseman i met, who advised me to offer payment?" "ay, my lad, that i was," was the answer. "i wonder you did not know me again when i came to you as a guide to conduct you to pearson's farm in the fens." "i thought it was you, and i was right." "yes; but i had good reason for not telling you so," said burdale. "then who is master pearson?" asked jack. "did you ever hear of the famous northern cateran, ben nevis?" asked burdale. "indeed have i!" answered jack. "ay, and you know him well," said burdale; "your friend and he are the same. i would not tell you this, even though it would not matter to me, but i feel sure that you and he are not likely to meet again. in the fens he is known as master pearson, but he has gone by a dozen different names at various times, and taken up almost as many different characters. both sea and land are much the same to him, though i think the sea was most to his taste. if it had not have been for his wife, he would have stuck to that probably. next to captain kyd, i don't suppose there has been a more successful man out on the spanish main than he was; and i should not be surprised but what he will take to the same calling again, if england once becomes too hot for him. i think differently now that i see death coming on to gripe hold of me, to what i did when i was in health and strength, and i tell you, john deane, you are fortunate in getting clear of him. when he first met you, he wished to get you to join his gang, thinking that you would be ready enough to do so from the way in which you were engaged. he would have invited smedley and the others, but he saw at a glance that they were not lads to suit him, and so he kept his eye upon you. when he saw that you were not likely to be drawn in for that sort of work, he found employment for you in sir john fenwick's plot, and if it had not been for that, i can tell you that mr strelley and will brinsmead would never have seen the cattle he had undertaken to send south. as it was, it answered his purpose to send them safe. you were thus still further deceived about him. he was employed, as you know, by squire harwood and other jacobite gentlemen--not that he cared for one side more than the other, and if king william's party had paid him better, he would have served them just as willingly. i say this because it's the truth, which you wish me to tell you; and i forgive him for all the harm he did me, for it was he who first led me away from an honest course when i was a mere lad, and tempted me to take to smuggling, and in the end to turn pirate and land-robber. i am thankful that i at last got free of him. if it was not for my wife and child in my quiet little cottage in the north, i would not complain of dying now, shot down for my brave king and country. but when i think of them, it's hard and bitter to go out of the world, and leave them to suffer the neglect and poverty which too likely will be their lot!" the speaker's voice grew fainter and fainter as he went on with his narrative, till jack could with difficulty hear what he said. "i promise you, ned, i will act the part of an honest shipmate, and try and find out those you love, and look after them. besides, you know, your widow will be entitled to a pension, and i will put down her address and write to her as soon as we get into port, that she may apply for it." "ah, that's a comfort; are you sure you are right, jack?" "i have heard several of the men talking about it, and i'm confident i am not wrong," answered deane. "the wives of seamen killed in action are always provided for, and a proper thing it should be so. it's one of the reasons, i have an idea, that our brave fellows fight so well. god looks after the fatherless and widows, and as long as our country professes to be a god-fearing nation, she must obey his commands." burdale put out his hand. jack pressed it, and promised him again that he would not forget his wishes. before another sun shone over the world of waters, poor ned's spirit had winged its flight away from his once sturdy form; and before the ship entered plymouth sound, several others who had been wounded in the action breathed their last. chapter twenty four. cutting-out expedition--john deane is promoted--capture of two galleys. it was no easy matter to find a place in which to write a letter on board. jack, however, got a board for a desk, and, sitting down near a port on the deck, wrote to ned burdale's widow, according to the address given him, telling her of her husband's death, and directing her how at once to apply for her pension. he promised also to go and see her if he could possibly manage the journey, and bring a few things which ned had left to her and her boy, begging her, if she ever moved away, to write to him at nottingham, that he might know how to find her. so busily were all hands employed in refitting the ship, aided by extra carpenters and riggers, that jack was unable to obtain even an hour's leave on shore. immediately the ship was ready for sea, blue peter was hoisted, the anchor was run up to the bows, and under all sail she stood down the sound. captain jumper was worthy of his name. a more active officer was not to be found; and he soon made himself as much feared by the french as were admiral benbow, sir cloudesley shovel, sir george rooke, and captain dilkes, who was soon to become an admiral. under such a commander john deane had many opportunities of distinguishing himself. a squadron, of which the "weymouth" formed a part, was sent in to attack the island of rhe and belleisle, accompanied by several bomb-vessels. saint martin's was bombarded, and several small towns and villages were burned and plundered. the loss the french suffered on this occasion induced them to go to great expense in defending their coast, the cost to them being far greater than was that to the english in attacking it. jack volunteered on all occasions of this sort, and on all cutting-out expeditions, and had thus an opportunity of bringing himself before the notice of his captain. as the "weymouth" was standing off and on the french coast, several vessels, supposed by their size to be privateers, were seen at anchor within a small harbour, guarded by a fort. as these vessels, if allowed to get out, would probably commit great havoc among the english merchant shipping, it was very important to destroy them. an expedition was accordingly planned by captain jumper for that purpose. it was likely, however, to be a dangerous one, as the boats could not get in without passing under the fire of the fort, while the privateers themselves were likely to be prepared with springs on their cables, and guns ready to receive their assailants. captain jumper therefore resolved, as is usual on such occasions, to send in only those who would volunteer for the expedition. he had no lack, however, of men ready to undertake it. the more daring and desperate, the more it suited the taste of his brave crew. he had himself proposed to go in command of it; but his second lieutenant begged that he might have that honour. among the first who volunteered was john deane. the captain ordered four boats to be prepared, carrying in all fifty men. john deane was in the boat with the first lieutenant, mr cammock, the leader of the expedition. the third lieutenant and two master's mates commanded the other boats. to mislead the french, the frigate stood off shore as evening approached, so that they might be led to believe that she had gone altogether. the night being very dark, her return could not be discovered. jack and his shipmates, in the meantime, were busily employed in re-sharpening their hangers, and looking to their pistols and ammunition, putting in fresh flints, and seeing that they were not likely to miss fire. by midnight the ship came off the mouth of the harbour. the wind was off shore, so that she could lay to, and, at the same time, no noise which might be made in lowering the boats would be heard on shore. the boats were quickly lowered and manned, and with muffled oars their brave leader, lieutenant cammock, pulled with steady strokes towards the harbour. the outermost vessels were to be first attacked. while two of the boats boarded one, the other two were to attack the next. their aim was to pass the fort without being discovered. if they were seen, they were to pull rapidly by, in the hopes that in the darkness the shot might not hit them. desperate as the work in which they were engaged was likely to prove, john deane felt a strange pleasure in the undertaking. the dim outline of the shore was seen before them, and on one side the straight line of the fort appeared up against the sky, though as yet the masts of the vessels could not be discerned. there was no doubt, however, of their being on the right course. not a word was spoken. the men scarcely dared to breathe as they pulled on, so anxious were they to avoid discovery. like a snake coiling its way among the grass, the line of boats advanced steadily up the harbour. the fort was passed. deane thought he could hear the footsteps of the sentry as he passed up and down; but as yet they were not seen or heard. probably not dreaming of an enemy approaching the harbour, he had neglected to turn his eyes down towards the entrance. now he burst forth in a song about his distant home and its vine-clad hills. jack could almost hear the words as they came floating over the still water. the boats had got some way up the harbour, and now the vessels which were to be attacked appeared before them. suddenly a sharp report of a musket was heard. it was fired from the fort. the sounds of the oars borne from the harbour must have reached the sentry's ears. another shot succeeded it from the same direction. the boats glided rapidly on. lights were seen on board the vessels, and several sharp reports of muskets told them they were discovered. not a moment was to be lost. the first vessel was a large ship, probably mounting between twenty and thirty guns. mr cammock ordered the boat next to him to board her along with him, while the two latter boats were to attack the vessel astern of her, which was not much inferior in size. the frenchmen, roused from their sleep, started up on deck to meet the english climbing up the sides with their cutlasses in their teeth. jack, following mr cammock, was among the first on board. they were met by a party of the french, led by one of their officers. on every side pistols were flashing and steel was clashing furiously. "clear the decks of them, my lads!" cried mr cammock, as with his hanger he rushed towards those who opposed him. the frenchmen gave way, so furious and sudden was the attack. some leaped overboard, others jumped down below, and others cried for quarter. the lieutenant ordering the crew of the other boat to cut the cable and make sail, cried out to jack and his own boat's crew to follow him, that they might take the next vessel. all obeyed with alacrity; but the work was far more serious than that which had just been performed, for the frenchmen were on the alert and prepared to receive the borders. in spite, however, of the pikes thrust at them, and the pistols fired in their faces, the english climbed up the sides and made good their footing on deck. jack, with his trusty hanger in his hand, kept close to the side of the brave lieutenant. the frenchmen gathered thickly before them, and a tall figure, whom by his dress jack saw was an officer, led them on, assailing mr cammock with great fury. his sword was about to descend on the head of the english lieutenant, when jack, rushing between them, received the blow on his own blade, returning it with such interest that the french officer stretched his length on the deck. the fall of their leader discouraged the rest of the crew. although they once or twice rallied, they were driven forward. many were cut down, and others cried out for quarter. there was no time to be lost in getting the vessels out, for it was very evident that a greater number of the crew was on shore; and from the lights which appeared on every side, and the shouts which reached them, it was probable that they were coming off to the assistance of their shipmates. the next vessel appeared to have still fewer people on board. "we cannot get her off," observed mr cammock, "but we can burn her, perhaps." "i will do it!" cried jack. "who will follow me?" several men instantly volunteered, and jack, jumping into the boat, led the way on board. the frenchmen, perhaps, were not expecting an attack, for they made no resistance. jack had snatched a slow-match as he left the other vessel. with this, light was set to different parts of the ship on board which he now found himself. the astonished crew were either drunk or frightened, and did nothing to put out the flames, but were seen to lower a boat and jump into her. the work accomplished, jack returned to the last vessel which had been taken just as the cable was cut and sail was made on her to carry her out of the harbour. so rapidly did the flames of the vessel which had been set on fire burst forth, that even she with difficulty escaped from them, while, as they glided down the harbour, they were seen to extend to several other vessels near. "deane, you have rendered an important service to-night," said mr cammock, as jack returned on board. "i can make a favourable report of you to the captain, if we get safe out of this, as i hope we may." scarcely a quarter of an hour had passed since the first vessel was attacked, and four prizes, the reward of british valour, were now being carried off down the harbour with a considerable number of prisoners on board. they were not, however, to escape without molestation. the other vessels which had hitherto escaped the flames, opened their fire upon them, as did the fort; but the number of vessels, which kept some little way apart from each other, prevented the french gunners from taking very good aim. several shots, however, struck the prizes. the french prisoners on board were the chief sufferers. they, poor fellows! shrieked out to their countrymen, entreating them not to fire, as nothing they could do would stop the desperate englishmen from carrying off the vessels. their voices, however, were probably not heard, and their entreaties were certainly not attended to. the breeze, blowing directly down the harbour, carried the prizes quickly clear of the fort, and in a short time they were alongside the "weymouth," which made sail, and stood off with them towards the english coast. jack's heart beat high when the next morning he was summoned on the quarter-deck, where the captain and several of his officers were standing together. jack stood hat in hand before the captain. "mr cammock has spoken highly of your coolness and courage last night, john deane," he said. "he tells me also that you saved his life by coming between him and an officer who would have cut him down. from what has been told me, i believe you will do honour to the quarter-deck, and i will therefore from this day rate you as a master's mate. it is the first step in the ratlines, and i have no doubt, if you go on as you have begun, that you will in time reach the top." jack's heart beat high at these words. he had hoped some day to become an officer, but he had not expected so soon to attain his wishes, and he was determined the captain's words should be verified, and that he would lose no opportunity of distinguishing himself. he had already a fair store of prize-money, so that he was able, without writing home, to fit himself out as became an officer, not so difficult in those days as in later years. he had no great fancy for gold lace suits, but a good serviceable coat and cocked hat was more according to his taste. he could now, however, write home with some degree of satisfaction, to say that he had become an officer, and that he hoped by sticking to the service to rise in the profession he had chosen. he certainly had a longing at times to go home and see those he loved so dearly. often a vision of alethea rose up before him, but still not without some doubts as to the position he held with her. it would be impossible to describe all the exploits performed by captain jumper and his brave crew during the time the "weymouth" was in commission. few ships remained a shorter time in harbour than she did, and the crew might with a show of reason have complained of the hard work they had to go through. they were, however, well satisfied with the amount of prize-money which fell to their lot. jack, in his new position, got a good share of it, and found himself better supplied with cash than he had ever before been in his life. some time passed away, when one day the "weymouth" was standing towards the french coast in the direction the wind blew to saint martin's, the scene of some of her former exploits, when two vessels were seen to leeward. from the cut of their sails and general appearance they were known to be french. every stratagem is considered lawful in warfare. captain jumper therefore hoisted the french ensign, and as he was running down before the wind, the cut of his own sails could not so clearly be discerned, by which the character of the "weymouth" would have been discovered. the two vessels for some time made no attempt to escape, believing probably that the stranger in sight was really french, and wishing for some reason or other to speak her. by yawing occasionally--that is moving the ship's head from one side to the other--the french ensign was visible to the two vessels to leeward. thus the "weymouth" was able to get within gunshot of them before her character was discovered. quickly bracing up her yards, she poured a broadside into her two opponents, which were close together. they were found to be two large galleys, which carried some twenty guns on the upper-deck, and several on the quarter-deck, while between-decks were small ports, out of which their oars projected. they now began to work their oars, in the hopes of placing themselves on the quarters of the "weymouth," but before one of them could do so, so tremendous a fire was poured into her that she was rendered unmanageable, many of the unhappy galley-slaves having apparently been killed, and her rudder shot away. the other galley attempted to make her escape, but the "weymouth," following her, treated her in the same way that she had done her consort, and she was compelled to strike her colours. boats were now lowered to take possession of the prizes. deane was sent on board the first, which lay almost a wreck on the waters. as he clambered up the sides he gazed with horror on the scene of slaughter which the decks presented. numbers of the unhappy galley-slaves, chained to their benches, lay cut in two, with limbs shot off, and fearfully mangled in every possible way. groans and cries ascended from the survivors, though many had already, more fortunate than them, ceased to breathe. a number of the crew had also been killed and wounded, and the galley herself appeared to be in a sinking state. deane made a signal to the "weymouth" to this effect, and begged that other boats might be sent to rescue the crew. calling on those who had charge of the slaves, he ordered them immediately to knock off their shackles, he and his men holding pistols to their heads, as they seemed rather disinclined to obey the order. as soon as the poor fellows were released, he had them at once placed in the boats, greatly to the anger of the french crew, who considered that they ought first to have been carried off. it is true that many of the slaves were ruffians of the lowest order, sent to the galleys for their crimes; but jack knew well, also, that many were huguenots, whose only crime was adhering to the protestant faith. at that moment it was difficult to discriminate between them, and he therefore determined to carry off all at once. the first cargo were quickly conveyed on board the "weymouth," when the boats returned for the survivors of the crew, with whom deane and his men had remained. he could not help looking anxiously for the return of the boats, for every moment the water was rising higher and higher in the hold of the prize. again and again he urged the crew to man the pumps, and endeavour to keep their vessel afloat, but they were in no way disposed to do this, probably fearing that if the english returned in time, they might save her altogether from sinking, and carry her off as a prize. this the frenchmen were anxious that their conquerors should not do. once more, as the boats were seen approaching the galley for the remainder of the crew, deane went round the between-decks to ascertain if any of the wounded slaves still remained alive. a low groan reached his ears from a man who lay stretched out under one of the benches. the chain was still round his leg. deane raised up the man's head. though wounded, he was still perfectly conscious, and had become aware of the dreadful fate awaiting him had he been overlooked. deane shouted to those on deck to come to his assistance. by the sound which the water made rushing into the hold of the vessel, he was very sure she would not float many minutes longer. to leave the poor man was contrary to his nature, and yet to release him without knocking off the shackle was impossible. the glance he had of the countenance of the wounded man convinced him that he was not one of the low class of criminals which formed a portion of the gang of galley-slaves, but that he was probably a huguenot. deane heard those on deck shouting to the boats to make haste as the galley was about to sink. at that moment one of his own men, finding that he was not on deck, sprung down below to look for him. deane at once ordered him to bring the french master-at-arms with his keys or chisel to emancipate the unfortunate prisoner. the frenchman pretended not to understand him, but a pistol placed at his head quickly made him come below and take off the shackle which held the slave to the bench. jack in a moment, bearing the rescued man in his arms, leaped up on deck just as the boats came alongside. the french crew made a spring into them, for already they felt the galley sinking beneath their feet. jack had only just time to lower the man down and spring in after him before the galley, rolling heavily, settled down under the water. the boats rapidly pulled away from her, and in another minute she and the mangled remains of humanity with which her decks were covered were hid beneath the waves. the rescued galley-slave warmly expressed his thanks to deane for having preserved his life. he had been struck on the head by a piece of one of the oars shattered by a shot, and stunned. little blood having flowed from the wound, his strength was unimpaired. "you have saved my life by your activity, young sir," he said, in broken english, "and i am grateful to you; but, alas! when too probably all i once loved on earth, my property, and my friends, will never again be restored to me, i have, i own, but little to live for!" "cheer up, sir," answered jack; "your huguenot countrymen are always welcome in england, and i doubt not that you will find many friends among them; and at all events the english will receive you as one, if you are, as i conclude, also a huguenot." "yes, indeed i am!" was the answer. "the faith of the gospel has sustained me under all the trials and hardships i have gone through. though at times i have been cast down and fainted, i have once more gained courage and determination to await calmly whatever providence has had in store for me." on getting on board, deane took the huguenot to the captain, and explained who he was. he, therefore, and others whom he named, were separated from the rest of the prisoners, and treated as friends rather than as captured enemies. some of the slaves were, however, ruffians, whom it was evident it would not be safe to leave at large. they therefore were treated as the rest of the prisoners. as the other galley was taken possession of, a ship was seen standing out from under the land towards the "weymouth," attracted probably by the firing, and the english seamen exultingly hoped that they should have another action to fight, and gain another prize. the frenchman, however, on discerning the fate of the two galleys, again kept away, and ran back towards the land, taking shelter under the guns of the fort, from which it would have been difficult to cut him out. the "weymouth," with her prize, now stood up channel. as she had now been several years in commission, great hopes were entertained that she would be paid off. her crew were not disappointed; and, being ordered into portsmouth, those who had lived and fought for so long together were once again separated and scattered in all directions. chapter twenty five. the galley-slave, and who he was. jack took an especial interest in the unfortunate man whose life he had saved on board the galley. from his manners and language he guessed at once that he was a gentleman, although his hair was long and matted, and his countenance had that sickly hue which long confinement and hard labour had given to it. he visited him in his hammock, where he lay alongside other wounded men. the stranger recognised him at once. "ah, my brave friend," he said, "this is indeed kind in you, to come and see me! i know not whether my days on earth are already numbered, but as long as i remain here, my heart will never cease to beat with gratitude to you!" jack replied that he should have done the same for any human being, but that he was very thankful he had been of service in saving the life of one who appeared to be a gentleman and a man of feeling; especially one who had gone through so many hardships as he had. "ah, indeed i have!" he answered. "because i loved protestant truth, and desired to worship god according to the dictates of my conscience, i was cruelly deprived of my property, and my wife and child snatched from me--while i was carried off, and after undergoing numberless hardships, was sent on board a galley, associated with many of the greatest villains and most hardened wretches in the country! i was not entirely alone with them, however, for many other huguenots were suffering with me, and we were thus enabled to support and console each other. but, alas! i might have borne the loss of my liberty, and my property, and the sufferings and hardships i had to go through, but i could not bear the thought of being separated from my beloved wife and our sweet daughter, and never being able to gain tidings of them. even now i know not whether they escaped from france, or whether they suffered as did many who were attempting to fly from the country. sometimes i fancy that they are alive, but whether the child and mother are still together i know not, or whether they have been separated by our cruel enemies. the fate of our little girl often presses heavily on me. i think sometimes she may have been seized by the romanists and brought up in their faith, as have many children who have been taken from huguenots." jack did his best to console his new friend, and assured him, as he had done before, that he would be kindly treated in england, and that perhaps his protestant countrymen could give him some tidings of his wife. "my only hope is that she may have returned to holland," he said, "to which country she belonged, though she had resided many years in france. it was also my father's country, but by right of my mother i inherited a property in france--though little did i think at the time when i went to take possession of it, that it would have cost me all the suffering i have endured! as i had become a naturalised frenchman, so as a frenchman i was treated; but i love the country of my ancestors and my wife's country, and would gladly return to that. indeed, could i effect my escape, i would do so, as i have some property there which the french have not been able to take from me." jack listened with great interest to this account. "i was acquainted a few years ago with an english merchant at norwich, one mr gournay, who has been very kind to the huguenots; and as he has correspondents in all parts of the country, and throughout holland also, and many other places on the continent, if you will tell me your name, and describe your wife and child, i will write to him, and i have no doubt that he will make inquiries in that direction for you," he said. "thank you, thank you, my kind friend!" said the wounded man. "your promise gives me hopes which i dared not before entertain. my name is de mertens. my dear wife was tall and graceful, and noted for her beauty, and our little girl was called elise, or, as you would call her in england, elizabeth." "this is indeed very strange!" exclaimed jack; "for i met a lady at the house of the very gentleman i spoke of--mr gournay--who told me that her name was de mertens, and that her husband had been carried off to the galleys, while, i grieve to tell you, for it will pain you much to hear it, the little girl had been snatched away from her just as she was embarking, and since then she has been unable to gather any tidings of her. she begged me to make inquiries, which i did as far as i was able, but circumstances compelled me to leave the country soon afterwards, and i was not able to gather any clue to her lost child." "my wife still alive! and under the charge of kind friends!" exclaimed the wounded man, sitting up. "this is indeed joyful news! though alas that it should not be without its alloy! yet the kind providence which has preserved my wife, may have preserved our child to be restored to us. but what do i see, young man?" he exclaimed, seizing jack's hand. "let me look at that ring on your finger. it is strange that it should be there. did my wife give it you?" "no," replied jack, somewhat astonished; "i did not receive it till some time after i last saw madame de mertens. it was given to me by a young girl, the daughter of a farmer and his wife, at whose house i was residing for some time. she was a sweet, dear little girl; and when i came away she told me that she had nothing else to give, and she insisted on placing that ring on my finger. she said she had worn it round her own neck since she was a child, and though she valued it greatly, she should be unhappy if i would not take it. directly after i received it i purposed restoring it to her, as i did not think it right to deprive her of it, but was unable again to return to the farm before i came away to sea." "this is indeed wonderful!" exclaimed monsieur de mertens. "oh, let me entreat you to describe the little girl to me!" jack did so, and did not draw an unfavourable picture. "the description is indeed like what i should suppose my sweet little girl to be by this time. fair, with bright blue eyes, light hair, and gentle, winning manners; but you tell me that she was the daughter of a farmer and his wife?" "for such she always passed," answered jack; "but often i thought so rough a man as the farmer could not have so sweet and gentle a child; and from what i have since heard, i am inclined to believe that she was not really their child." "oh, no, no, i am sure she was not!" exclaimed monsieur de mertens, clasping his hands. "she must be my own dear little daughter! oh, what joy and happiness it will be to see her again with her dear mother." "if i can possibly get leave when we go into port, i will promise to accompany you to norwich, where you will, i trust, find madame de mertens; and after that we will pay a visit to the fens and ascertain if little elizabeth pearson is really or not your child," said deane. "thank you, thank you!" answered de mertens. "but let me look at that ring again. i cannot be mistaken about it!" jack took off the ring, which de mertens eagerly examined. "yes, yes!" he exclaimed; "it is one i myself gave her mother, telling her that it was an heirloom, and that she should bestow it upon her daughter. i doubt not that she fastened it round her neck before she fled from home, that should she and the child be separated, she might again recognise her by it. and you say the little girl you met was called elizabeth? that would be the name of my dear child in english, and as she could speak quite clearly at the time of our separation, she would certainly have told those into whose hands she fell her christian name, though it is possible that she might not have known the name of her parents." as may be supposed, after this interesting conversation, jack and monsieur de mertens constantly discussed the subject as they sailed up the channel. at length the isle of wight hove in sight. each well-known point and headland, village and town, was welcomed, as the frigate ran round the back of that lovely island, and at length anchored at spithead. chapter twenty six. visit to norwich and to the farm at the fens--a bitter disappointment. as soon as the ship was paid off, jack took his new friend on shore, and procured for him a proper costume and other necessaries. he had himself a considerable amount of prize-money to receive, and instead of spending it as did many of his shipmates, throwing it away lavishly on every side, he visited the nearest horse dealer's in order to purchase a couple of stout animals to carry him and monsieur de mertens on their way. the horse dealer was rather astonished when the naval officer, whom he naturally supposed knew as much about horse-flesh as he himself did about the management of a ship, indignantly refused a couple of spavined animals which he offered for sale. several others were brought forward, which jack in like manner rejected. at length he fixed upon two beasts which, after passing his hands over their shoulders and down their legs, he thought might suit for the purpose of carrying them safe to norwich, and from thence on to master pearson's farm. "the finest animals in my stud!" exclaimed the horse dealer, as jack ordered them to be led out. "fit for chargers for the duke of marlborough himself, or suited to carry any noblemen as hunters across the country." "i have not so long ploughed salt water as not to know something about ploughing the land," answered jack; "don't you see the hay-seed still in my hair? come, come, mr crupper, the horses will carry us along the roads without coming down on their knees at a decent pace, and if you like to take the sum i offer, we'll have them, if not, we will soon go and seek another dealer who is not so ready to pass off his broken-kneed beasts on poor ignorant `jack-tars.'" the dealer, seeing that jack was not to be taken in, at length agreed to the price offered. in a short time, with their valises strapped to their saddles, their pistols in their holsters, with serviceable swords by their sides, the travellers took their way towards london. in those days not a few highwaymen beset the roads, especially those leading from the chief naval ports to london, as they were pretty certain of finding seamen and officers travelling up and down--those travelling towards the metropolis, generally with an ample supply of cash in their pockets. hounslow heath, over which they had to pass, was one of the spots most frequented by those knights of the highway. it did not matter much that the horses possessed but little speed, as de mertens, not having ridden for so many years, was unable to proceed at a fast rate; and even jack found that it was far pleasanter not to attempt going as fast as he would once have wished to have gone over the road. they were therefore obliged to sleep at an inn about half-way between portsmouth and london, hoping to get into the big city at an early hour the next day. jack's chief puzzle was to know where to find a lodging. as may be supposed, he had no fancy to go back to the only one he knew of at hammersmith, although on their way they should pass not far from it. he felt very sure, however, that he might do so without any risk of being discovered, for instead of the rosy-cheeked lad he then was, he now wore a full black beard, while his countenance was thoroughly well bronzed, and there was a bold, dashing look about him which often marked the naval officer of those days who had seen hard service. as de mertens had no wish to remain in london, they agreed to pass through the city, and to stop for the night at hertford, or some other town to the north of it. on passing across hounslow heath they encountered more than one suspicious-looking gentleman, armed to the teeth, and mounted on a strong active horse. but probably jack's appearance made the highwayman, if such he was, think it more prudent to allow the travellers to pass unquestioned. that sort of gentry, even in those days, in spite of all their boasting, were generally cowards at heart, and took good care not to attack those whom they did not feel sure they could intimidate or overcome without difficulty. jack did his best to keep up the spirits of poor monsieur de mertens, who as he approached norwich became more and more-nervous, dreading to hear that some accident had happened to his wife--that she was ill, or perhaps had died. then he dreaded the effect which his sudden return might have on her; and more than all he pictured to himself her sorrow, when at their meeting she would be unable to present to him their beloved child. on reaching norwich jack took his companion to the inn at which he had put up with will brinsmead, and begged him to remain there while he himself went on to the house of mr gournay, that he might prepare madame de mertens for his appearance. jack now began to feel very nervous himself. he would ten times rather have boarded a french ship, with pistols flashing and cold steel flourishing round his head, than go through the necessary interview with the wife of his friend. he first made his way to mr gournay's counting-house, that he might inquire for his intended brother-in-law giles dainsforth. mr gournay himself had returned home, but the clerks were still there. giles dainsforth was not among them. "oh, did you not know that he left us last year to go to nottingham, to be married to mr deane's daughter? they sailed some time since for mr penn's new colony in america, which they call pennsylvania," was the answer. "several friends have gone out there from thence, and it's one of the most flourishing settlements in the new world." jack accordingly hastened to mr gournay's residence, and first asked to see mrs gournay. she received jack very kindly, though she expressed her regret at finding that he was following a profession in which he was likely to shed the blood of his fellow-creatures. "young man, thou hadst better have taken a quill in thine hand, to labour as a clerk in a counting-house, or have remained a drover to conduct cattle up and down the country, than used a sword to deface god's image, as i fear too often thou must have done." jack did not wish to argue the point, but he assured her that he had no pleasure in killing his fellow-creatures, and that he had the consolation of believing that the navy had been the means of preventing a popish king from coming over and re-establishing papacy in the country; and that he also in his humble way had been of some benefit to his fellow-creatures. "for instance," he said, "i was the means not long since of saving the life of a gentleman, a french protestant, whom i have brought with me to see you." jack then explained who his companion was. good mrs gournay was overjoyed. "mr deane," she said, "we must break it gently to dear madame de mertens. she has been, especially lately, in delicate health, and any sudden surprise might be injurious to her. i will go and gradually tell her of what has occurred, and do you return to the inn and bring monsieur de mertens here. by the time that he arrives, it may probably be safe to allow them to meet." it was very long since jack had trod the ground with the elastic step with which he hastened back to bring his friend to mr gournay's house. he felt, indeed, very proud at the thought that he should thus have been the means of restoring two loving hearts to each other, and still more proud he felt he should be if he could discover their long-lost child. this he had great hopes of doing. and as he thought of elizabeth pearson's manner, her way of speaking, and many other little circumstances, he recollected that her accent was somewhat that of a foreigner. there was an intelligence and refinement, too, which he should not have expected to find in a young girl in her position in life, except, however, that dame pearson was herself very superior to any farmer's wife he had ever met, and was evidently a person who had belonged to a higher rank of society. he was also sacrificing himself for the good of others, for had he been left to his own disposal, he would, in the first place, have hastened on to nottingham to enjoy the society of his own family, and, more than all, as he thought, to renew his acquaintance with alethea harwood. often and often had her lovely countenance risen up before him, and he had enjoyed the hope that she would one day become his. at the same time it must be owned that another sweet face frequently presented itself before him, and though he had never associated it with the thought of love, yet surely it was one which must of necessity be very dear to him. it was that of little elizabeth pearson, so gentle, so bright and intelligent, and so confiding! he had now arranged to go and visit her, not for his own satisfaction, but for that of the friends who had hopes of discovering in her their long-lost daughter. leaving mistress gournay, jack hurried back through the narrow streets of norwich to the bear inn, where he found monsieur de mertens anxiously waiting for him. his friend trembled as he took his arm and led him out of the house. "a kind friend will inform your wife of your arrival, and by the time we reach her house madame de mertens will, i trust, be prepared to receive you," said jack. "but she will, i fear, scarcely know me," said the poor man. "you cannot tell how anxiety of mind and physical hardships have changed me. when we parted i was young, and full of life and spirits, and now my hair is grey, the colour has left my cheeks, and i tremble in every limb!" jack tried to console him by assuring him that he had greatly improved in his appearance since he had been freed from the galley, and that he was sure his wife would know him by the expression of his countenance and the tone of his voice, even should she discover the change of which he spoke. "alas!" he said, "our joyful meeting must, however, be tinged with sorrow when she cannot present to me our dear child. may heaven grant that through your assistance, my kind friend, that dear one may still be restored to us!" "i have little doubt about it, my dear sir," answered jack, who was not apt to indulge in what he called the "sentimental mood." "i am sure that if little elizabeth pearson turns out to be your daughter, you will have reason to be thankful, even though she may not be the polished young lady she would have been had she remained under the charge of her mother." thus conversing they reached the door of mr gournay's mansion, and jack had almost to drag in his poor friend, who appeared totally overcome by the agitation of the expected meeting. mrs gournay had kindly stationed a servant at the door to open it as soon as they were seen coming up the steps. she herself then came down, and taking monsieur de mertens by the hand, led him forward to the room where she said his wife was waiting to receive him. the meeting need not be described, nor does it matter much whether the affectionate husband and wife thought each other greatly changed. it was not until they had been some time together that madame de mertens ventured to speak of their long-lost daughter; and then she heard with grateful joy that her husband entertained a hope of her recovery, with the aid of john deane. when her husband showed her the ring which jack had given him, and which she herself had fastened round her child's neck, all doubt as to the fact of elizabeth pearson being their child, vanished. both she and her husband were eager at once to set out to the farm in the fens; but good mistress gournay would not hear of her commencing so fatiguing a journey, nor was her husband indeed at all fit to undertake it at that time. jack offered to go alone, but of that monsieur de mertens would not hear. it was finally settled that they should start together after a day's rest. the two horses which had brought them to norwich not being well suited for the continuance of the journey, mr gournay placed at their disposal two of the strongest animals he could procure. he also prepared a palfrey, and directed a groom to accompany it, that elizabeth might be able to return without delay to the arms of her mother. when the hour arrived for their departure, monsieur de mertens declared himself fully able to undertake the journey, and urged jack to push on over the roads as fast as their horses could go, so eager was he naturally to solve any remaining doubts with regard to the existence of his long-lost child. jack had been so thoroughly acquainted with all the country round the farm, that as he approached the neighbourhood of it, where the high-road ceased and the devious tracks across the marshy land commenced, he had no difficulty in finding his way. he heard, however, that since he had been there engineers had come over from holland, and were engaged with large gangs of workmen in draining the fen-country. he was able to traverse, therefore, many places which had before been impassable, and deep canals had been cut through others, which could only be passed by means of wooden bridges at considerable distances from each other. still he felt sure that he could not mistake his way to the farm. the nearer, however, he approached the spot where he expected to find it, the greater difficulty did he experience in making his way. several times he had to pull up his horse, and look around him to consider which direction he should take. whenever he thought he was right, he pushed on across the country. although there were many hard places, there were still many wide districts of fen-land, in no way changed in appearance to what it had been when he left it, and often with difficulty he avoided riding into bogs, out of which it would have been almost impossible to extricate the horses. at length, to his great satisfaction, he reached a group of willows which he remembered well. he was now sure that he could not be mistaken. his own heart beat quick. he saw by the working of monsieur de merten's countenance the agitation with which he suffered, as at length he pointed out to him in the far distance the trees which grew round the farm-house to which they were bound. jack took the lead, his companion following close behind him. already he could distinguish the windows of the house, and he expected every moment to see the old dogs, which once knew him so well, come out barking loudly, and then when they should recognise him, leap up, as they had been accustomed to do, and lick his hands. he hoped to see dame pearson or elizabeth appear at the door, attracted by the noise, to observe the approaching horsemen. in vain he waited however. not a sound was heard. no barking of dogs, either in anger or in welcome, reached his ears. as he advanced his heart began to sink. there was an air of desolation about the place which it had never been accustomed to wear. no cattle were to be seen in the neighbouring meadow. many of the fences were thrown down. there were no fowls in the farm-yard. no pigeons circled around the barn. an ominous silence reigned over the place. still he went on. he felt that he must speak to his friend. yet it seemed to him almost cruel to utter the words which he had to say. "you must be prepared for a disappointment, my dear sir. i fear that the former inhabitants of the place have left it. we may, however, be able to learn where they have gone." the ground was now sufficiently hard to enable them to gallop on. on reaching the front door he threw himself from his horse and struck loudly against it. a hollow sound was the only answer returned. he lifted the latch, for the door was unlocked. he gazed round the room where the dame and elizabeth had been accustomed to sit, after the chief labours of the day were over, with their distaffs or spinning-wheels-- that very room where he had last parted from the young girl! the lighter articles of value had been removed, though the heavy pieces of furniture still remained in their places, thickly covered with dust. it was evident that for many months no one had entered the house. green mildew was on the walls. the very floors were covered with damp. poor monsieur de mertens sank down on a seat, overcome by the bitter disappointment which he experienced. jack endeavoured to re-assure him, by telling him that he knew several persons in the neighbourhood, and that he should probably be able to ascertain from them where master pearson and his family had gone. before leaving the house, however, he would go over every part of it, to try and discover any thing which might give them the desired information. the examination of the house was a very melancholy one, for not a sign could he discover to afford the wished-for clue. one of the rooms was locked. he hesitated about attempting to break it open. at length, on searching around, he found a bunch of keys. they had evidently been dropped by accident, and unintentionally left behind. among them he discovered the key which opened the door of the closed room. he at first almost dreaded to enter, though he could scarcely tell why. at length he mustered courage. he breathed more freely when he found that the room was simply filled with bedding and bed-clothes and household implements. they had been placed there probably for the purpose of being afterwards sent for and brought away, and if such was the intention of the occupants of the house it had by some reason been frustrated. there were many signs, however, of a hasty departure, though why master pearson had suddenly gone away with his wife and reputed daughter jack could not determine. he feared, however, from the contents of the room which he had examined, that they must have gone to some distance, or otherwise these articles would probably have been sent for and brought away. not a particle of food was to be found in the house, and it was therefore impossible for them to remain for the night, and jack believed that there was time to return to the nearest village where accommodation could be obtained. he there also hoped to gain some information regarding master pearson's movements. with heavy hearts the two horsemen mounted their steeds and took their way across the marsh. night however closed in upon them before they were clear of it. at length a light appeared before them. it seemed to come from a cottage window close down to the ground. jack was on the point of riding towards it, when he knew by the hesitation shown by his horse that he was approaching treacherous ground. at that instant the light vanished--again to appear, however, at a little distance farther off. "ah, how foolish i was to be tempted by such a `will o' the wisp' as that!" he exclaimed. "we must keep away, my dear sir, to the left, and i hope ere long that we shall escape from this treacherous neighbourhood." he had been through a good many trying scenes, but he had never felt more perplexed than he did at this moment. he was grieved too, and sick at heart. somewhat surprised also, perhaps, to find how much he felt the absence of elizabeth, though he soon persuaded himself that it was more on his friend's account than his own. after riding some way, jack did what under such circumstances is the only course to pursue. going first himself, he allowed his horse to follow the path which his own instinct dictated; and by so doing, in the course of an hour the hoofs of his animal once more trod hard ground. in a short time afterwards a twinkling light appeared, far brighter, however, than the "will o' the wisp" which had before deceived them, and they rode up to the very inn which jack had hoped to reach. the landlord was well pleased to see two well-equipped cavaliers arrive at his humble hostel, and under took to supply them with every thing they required. jack's first inquiry, however, after master pearson, made him look more suspiciously at them. "master pearson?" he said, "the farmer who lived out there in the fens? ah, curious things have been told about him since he went away. i cannot exactly make out what to say about it." "but where has he gone?" asked jack eagerly; "can you tell me that?" "no; nor no one either, master," he answered. "it's the better part of six months gone, when bill green, who was riding across the fen, made his way to the farm and found not a human soul there. why they had gone, or how they had gone, or where they had gone, no one from that day to this can tell. the only thing we know is, that they did not come by this road, and so it is supposed that they made for the sea-coast. there was master pearson, and mistress pearson, who all said was a very good woman, and their young daughter; but not a servant or a follower of any sort did they take with them, that we know of. none of the farm-servants belonged to this part of the country, and they had all gone away some time before. altogether the matter was a mystery, and is a mystery still to my belief." this information given by master bowleggs, the landlord of the goose and goslings, was very unsatisfactory to jack and his friend. they feared from the circumstantial way in which it was given them that it was too likely to be true. jack had therefore great difficulty in keeping up the spirits of his companion. he undertook to make further inquiries in the neighbourhood, and to devote himself to the search for elizabeth. leaving the anxious father at the little inn, jack the next day rode off to call on the different people with whom he had been acquainted during his stay at the farm. several days were employed in this manner, but none of those on whom he called could give him the slightest information. they all believed that master pearson had left the country, and some supposed that he had gone to one of the plantations in america, but that was only a surmise, as he had for some reason or other left no trace of the direction he had taken. very unwillingly, therefore, jack and his companion returned to norwich. poor madame de mertens suffered greatly from the disappointment she felt at the account which her husband and john deane brought. her kind friends, however, entreated her to keep up her spirits, pointing out to her how thankful she should be at having her husband restored to her, and that the same kind providence which had given her that blessing might yet further increase it by sending back to her her long-lost daughter. jack's mission at norwich having been accomplished, though not in the satisfactory way he had hoped, he set forward to nottingham. the greater part of his journey was speedily accomplished, and wishing to learn how matters were going on in that town, and also to arrive at home at an early hour of the day, he put up at his old friend the miller's, where he had stopped on his last visit to harwood grange. he had some difficulty in making the miller believe who he was, for from his dress and the arms he carried, the good man at first took him to be a highwayman, and even his dame would not believe for some time that he was the same lad she had known but a few years back. as far as he could learn, all his family at home were well, though the miller told him of the death of several people he knew. he inquired, not without some hesitation, about harwood grange and its owner. "ah! the squire. he had to go abroad some years ago, about the matter, it was supposed, of sir john fenwick, whose head was cut off, you mind. well, the poor gentleman never came back again, and it is believed that he took on so, about leaving his native land and horses and hounds, that he at last died. certain it is that his daughter came into the property, and is now mistress of the grange. not that she lives there though, for i heard that she was going to marry some young gentleman in nottingham, and she has taken up her abode there. well, it is as well that she should give the grange a master, for it is a pretty property, and it requires a gentleman to look after it." this news was not over pleasant to jack. he was sorry, certainly, to hear of the death of mr harwood, but the account of alethea's intended marriage made his heart sink somewhat lower than it had ever sunk before. his only hope was that the miller's story might not be true. he could not believe that all his bright dreams should prove to be cruel unrealities just as he was returning home. he therefore answered the miller with as indifferent an air as he could, but the effort was somewhat vain, and the good dame, observing that he must be tired after his long journey, recommended him as soon as supper was over to seek his bed. chapter twenty seven. returns home. next morning john deane set out to nottingham, mounted on his strong horse, with a hanger slung to a sash over his shoulder, a laced coat, having an undoubted nautical cut about it, with a cocked hat, his waistcoat with long flaps, also richly embroidered. altogether, with his hat cocked rakishly on one side, though he was unaware of the fact, he presented a gallant and bold appearance. he was just crossing the bridge over the trent, into the town, when he saw a party of ladies and gentlemen on horseback approaching him. first came a gentleman in a laced riding-suit, wearing a fair peruke with a buckle, as the mode then was, engaged in low conversation with a young lady in a cherry-coloured riding-habit, her long hair hanging in loose curls over her shoulders. in the first he recognised his brother jasper, and in the lady, the fair alethea. she glanced slightly at jack's bronzed countenance, surrounded by a bushy beard and whiskers, and well-knit figure. he drew his horse on one side to let the party pass. but though she looked up a second time, she evidently did not recognise him, nor did his brother. following them came another young gentleman with his merry sister polly by his side. she was laughing loudly, as was her wont, either at her own jokes or at something her companion had said. jack fully thought that she at all events would find him out, but she was possibly too much engaged in her own pleasant thoughts to do so, for though she gave a look at the naval gallant whom she was passing, she took no further notice of him. "i won't stop them," thought jack, "but go home and have a talk with father and mother first; and if jasper is the gentleman who it is said is going to marry alethea, the sooner i'm off to sea again the better! it looked something like it, for it's certain he never used to dress so bravely; and, by the way he was looking at her, i cannot help thinking it's too true. well, i wish him every happiness. there's no use repining; and i don't see how i could have expected it to be otherwise. of course he would fall in love with her; and she certainly never gave me any reason to suppose that she cared especially for me." such were the thoughts which occupied his mind as he rode up to the well-known door of his father's house in the market-place. the servant who opened the door bowed respectfully to the gallant stranger who was inquiring for mistress deane, and jack had actually entered the parlour, where his mother was sitting with her knitting in hand, and been desired to take a seat, when he wonderfully astonished the old lady by springing up and throwing his arms round her neck. she knew him then well enough; and after giving him a maternal embrace in return, holding him by both hands, she looked again and again into his honest countenance, as if to trace his well-known features. "yes, jack," she exclaimed, "you are my boy! i would not believe any one who told me otherwise, though the sun and the sea air have given you a more brazen face than i ever expected you would wear, and you have grown into a big, sturdy young man, well able to fight the king's enemies." old mr deane soon afterwards entered, hearing that a stranger had been inquiring for him. he confessed that if mistress deane had not been there to swear to him he should scarcely have known his own son. jack did not allow any thoughts which would mar his happiness to intrude while he sat between his kind parents, each of them holding one of his hands in theirs, while he gave them an account of his various proceedings since he had last written, among which he described his rescue of the dutch gentleman, and his visit to mr gournay. his mother told him of mr harwood's supposed death abroad. "yes, dame. it was not so unfortunate, however," observed mr deane; "the poor gentleman was so deeply implicated in the jacobite plots, that he would have lost his property if he had come back; but through the interest of many friends, and i may say i was one of them, we contrived to preserve his estates for alethea. poor man! his last days were very sad. he went to james's court at saint germain's, where he expected to be received with respect, as having suffered in the cause of the king. he wrote me an account of his visit. the palace in which james resided was magnificent. a handsome pension was allowed him by the french king, and he had guards, and a large establishment of hounds and huntsmen, and every means of amusing himself. he was, however, surrounded by ecclesiastics who ruled every thing, including the king himself. nothing indeed could be more dull than the life spent by the courtiers, their sole employment appearing to be backbiting each other. mr harwood soon found also that he himself had committed a great crime in the eyes of those by whom he was surrounded. he was a protestant. he, with all the other protestant jacobites who appeared at the court, were treated with the greatest indignity by the roman catholics. in every instance the roman catholic was preferred to the protestant, and in every quarrel the roman catholic was supposed to be right. several protestant clergy who had given up their livings, and sacrificed every thing in the cause of james, were grossly insulted by the romish priests. when they requested to be allowed to hold a service for their protestant countrymen, their prayers were refused. the protestant ministers were kept away from the death-beds of the protestants, who were allowed to be beset by the romish priests; these men endeavouring by all the arts they possessed, and often by force, to win them over to their church. several royalists, indeed, who died, were denied a christian burial, and were thrown into holes dug in the fields at the dead of night, without any form or ceremony. the unfortunate earl of dunfermline, who had lost every thing for james, and had fought bravely for him at the battle of killiecrankie, was treated in this way. while alive, he had been grossly insulted on several occasions. a number of scotch officers who had served under him, requested that they might be formed into a company, and that he might be placed at their head; but this was refused on the plea that he was a protestant, and therefore unfit to command men serving a catholic prince. those only who at the last gasp, scarcely conscious what was being done, were turned into catholics, by having the consecrated wafer thrust into their mouths, were buried with all the pomp of the romish church. poor mr harwood expressed his fears that he should be treated in the same way. he died at last of a broken heart, though he was able a short time before his death to remove from the court. his account shows us how james would have acted had he recovered the english throne, and we may be truly thankful to heaven that he was prevented from obtaining his wishes." mrs deane and jack heartily responded to this sentiment. "you know alethea, jack? a pretty, sweet girl she is, i can assure you; though you saw so little of her, that you might not have discovered her good qualities," continued the old gentleman. jack's heart sank somewhat. he expected to hear his father give an account of the intended marriage of alethea to jasper. the old gentleman went on for some time enlarging on her beauty and accomplishments, and other attractive qualities. "your father means to say, jack, that it has not been her fortune which has captivated your brother jasper, for you must know that he has won her heart, and in the course of another week is to possess her hand. you have just come in time for the wedding. i am sure it will be a great pleasure to you to see jasper made happy, as it adds greatly to our pleasure to have you back again amongst us." poor jack's heart sank down to zero. his worst anticipations were thus realised. for some moments his head was in a whirl, and he knew not what to say. he speedily, however, recovered himself. "i am thankful to hear of jasper's expected happiness," he forced himself to say at last. he said it sincerely in one sense, for he loved his brother, and he felt that if alethea was not to be his, he was glad that she should become jasper's wife. the time passed so rapidly, that he was surprised when at length the riding-party returned just in time to get ready for dinner. his brother and sister were truly glad to see him. alethea received him with some little embarrassment, not that she was conscious of having given him any encouragement; but she recollected how she had endeavoured to draw him into the jacobite plot, and she fancied that she was the principal cause of separating him from his family and sending him away to sea. polly and her intended husband, who was something in her own style, soon, by the racket they made, and the shouts of laughter in which they indulged, drove away any thing like sentiment, and set every body at their ease. kind cousin nat shortly made his appearance, and holding jack at arm's length, scanned him all over. "i was not quite certain when i first saw you whether you were a buccaneer from the spanish main, or some other cavalier of fortune; but i now see that you are my own honest, good jack, in spite of your somewhat ferocious appearance!" he exclaimed, shaking him by both hands. "you should get yourself, however, trimmed and docked, jack, and you will be much more presentable in polite society." jack had not come without a few curiosities and trinkets which had been collected on board the prizes, or taken on shore. he was thus able to bestow some acceptable presents upon the intended brides. again the old house in the market-place was the scene of festivity. two couples were to pledge their faith to each other, and guests from far and near assembled to do honour to the occasion. jack wrung jasper's hand. "i wish you every happiness the world can give you!" he exclaimed, though as he spoke his voice trembled and the tears stood in his eyes. alethea looked more beautiful and attractive than she had ever done before, and polly was more merry and full of life, not a bit abashed by the ceremony through which she then had to go. jack performed his part well throughout the whole of it, and in the evening no one danced more lightly and merrily, or laughed louder than did he. at supper he sang some of his best sea-songs; and every one declared that jack deane was one of the finest young fellows who had appeared at nottingham for many a long day. nottingham at that time could boast of some of the most agreeable society to be met out of london. it had been assigned as the residence of marshall tallard, the opponent of the great duke of marlborough at the battle of blenheim, who was now a prisoner of war with a number of other gallant and polished french officers, who bore their captivity with resignation and cheerfulness, making themselves perfectly at home, and doing their best to amuse those among whom they lived. several curious traditions of their stay in the town still linger there. it was a french prisoner who first observed celery growing wild on the rock on which nottingham castle stands, alainon franchise, and having cultivated it successfully in his own little garden, he made that pleasant addition to english tables, from that time forth common every where throughout the kingdom. french rolls were also introduced from a receipt sent by the marshall himself to a baker in bridlesmith-gate. it had been arranged that cousin nat should reside with jasper deane, to whom he purposed giving up his practice when he should retire, which he expected to do in the course of a few years. jack was received in a friendly way wherever he went. the errors and wild pranks of the boy were entirely forgotten, when it was known that he had been fighting bravely for his king and country, and that he had by his own good conduct gained the rank he already held in the navy. jack, however, very soon got tired of leading an idle life. routs and card-parties were not at all to his taste, and although nottingham was not destitute of damsels possessed of a fair amount of beauty, he did not find himself attracted by any of them. he had speedily taught himself to think no more of alethea, but in her stead another young and pretty form often rose up before him. he met with no one indeed, in his opinion, to be compared with sweet little elizabeth pearson, or rather, as he believed she should be called, elise de mertens. he made up his mind, therefore, to leave home at a short notice and hasten down to portsmouth, where he saw in the columns of the _post-boy_ that a fleet was fitting out, under the brave admiral benbow, for the west indies. chapter twenty eight. serves under benbow in the west indies. it was early in march in the year . as jack deane was approaching london, he heard a postman shouting, "sad news! sad news!" "what is it?" asked jack. "the king is dead!" was the answer. "our good king william is no more!" jack, on making further inquiry, learned that the king had, on saturday, st, gone out to hunt, as was his custom, near hampton court, when his horse fell, and he fractured his collar-bone. the injury was not considered serious, and he was conveyed to his palace at kensington. having been, however, in a very weak state, he did not rally, and it was evident to those around him that he was near his end. on the th of march one of the best and most sagacious of english monarchs breathed his last, holding the hand of the faithful duke of portland. his voice had gone ere that; but his reason and all his senses were entire to the last. he died with a clear and full presence of mind, and with a wonderful tranquillity. on the accession of queen anne, the jacobites remained quiet, under the belief that she would leave the crown to the son of james the second, now known as the chevalier saint george. they were not aware of the sound protestant principles of the great mass of englishmen, and that any attempt to bring back a romanist member of the hated house of stuart, so often tried and found utterly unfit for ruling, would have produced another civil war. those infatuated men, the jacobites, did not conceal their joy at the death of the protestant monarch. banquets were held among them to celebrate the event, and some had the audacity and wickedness, it may be said, to toast the health of the horse which had thrown william. another toast they drank was to the health of the little gentleman dressed in velvet, in other words, the mole that raised the hill over which sorel (the king's favourite horse) stumbled. jack deane on hearing these things felt as if, had he been present, he should have been very much inclined to challenge those who showed this disrespect to a sovereign whom he had learned to honour and love. the fleet had taken its departure some time before john deane reached portsmouth, but he found a fast frigate on the point of sailing to carry despatches to the admiral, the "venus." admiral benbow's object in going out to the west indies had been to detain the spanish galleons. when war was declared on the accession of queen anne, a french admiral had also sailed from brest for the same station, with fourteen sail of the line and sixteen frigates, to meet the galleons and convoy them to cadiz. although the brave benbow's squadron was far smaller than that of the french, he kept a sharp look-out for the enemy. he had performed many services in the west indies to the merchants by capturing privateers and protecting their settlements from the attacks of the enemy. admiral benbow's ship was the "breda," of seventy guns, and her youngest lieutenant having died of fever, jack deane, greatly to his satisfaction, found himself appointed to that ship. early in july, the admiral sailed from jamaica, with seven sail of men-of-war, in the hope of joining admiral whitstone, who had been sent from england with a reinforcement to endeavour to intercept the french squadron which had sailed under monsieur du casse. the admiral on the th of august, being off donna maria bay, received advice that du casse had sailed for carthagena and portobello. he instantly went in quest of him, and in the evening of the th, discovered off santa martha ten sail of ships. on his nearer approach he found the greatest number of them to be french men-of-war. four ships of from sixty to seventy guns, one great dutch ship of about thirty or forty guns, and another full of soldiers, the rest being of a smaller size. they were steering along shore under their topsails. the admiral made a signal to form a line of battle ahead, and bore away under an easy sail, that those to leeward might the more readily get into their station. it was the admiral's intention not to make the signal of battle but only of defiance, when he had got abreast of the enemy's headmost ship. before he reached his station, however, the "falmouth," which was in the rear, began to fire, as did also the "windsor" and "advance," and soon after the vice-admiral was engaged; and now an act was performed which has rarely happened in the british navy. after exchanging two or three broadsides, the "windsor" and "advance" luffed to windward out of gunshot, and left the admiral exposed to the fire of the two sternmost ships of the enemy, by whom he was very much galled. neither did the ships in the rear come up to his assistance with the alacrity he expected. in spite of this, the brave benbow continued to engage the enemy from four o'clock until night, and although the latter then ceased firing, yet he kept sight of them, intending to renew the action in the morning. on the following day at daybreak he found himself close to the enemy, with the "ruby" only near enough to support him. unintimidated by the misconduct of those who had so shamefully deserted him, he pursued the enemy, who were using every effort to escape. the "ruby" in a short time was so dreadfully knocked about that he was obliged to order her to return to port royal. two more days passed away, and still the brave old admiral kept up the pursuit. on the morning of the th, he got up with the sternmost ships of the french, and although receiving but little assistance from the rest of the squadron he brought them to close action. round-shot, and chain-shot, and langrage came flying on board the "breda," the british seamen sending back much the same sort of missiles as those with which they were complimented. volumes of smoke from the guns rolled out of the ports. still undaunted, and excited by the example of their brave admiral, the british sailors fought on. at length a shot swept across the quarter-deck, on which the admiral was standing. he was seen to fall. his right leg was shattered by it. immediately he was carried below. he urged the surgeons to dress the wound as rapidly as they could, and then being placed in his cradle, he directed himself to be brought once more on the deck. there, in spite of the agony he was suffering, he continued to give his orders. one of the last he issued was to direct the other captains to "keep the line and behave like men." great was his grief, vexation, and rage, when the recreant captains came on board and declared that enough had been done, and that it would be dangerous to follow the enemy. in vain the old admiral pleaded with them. they persisted that by so doing they would ensure the destruction of their ships and crews. wounded and sick at heart he had at length to yield to them, and he issued the order for the squadron to return to jamaica. here the brave old admiral was carried on shore, and shortly afterwards died of the wound he had received. the captains who had refused to support him were tried by a court-martial, and two of them were carried home and shot on the decks of their ships, as soon as they arrived in an english port. to return to john deane. soon after the "breda" reached port royal, as she was likely to remain there for some time, and he was anxious for active employment, he got re-appointed to the "venus," which was sent to cruise for the protection of british commerce. as soon as the frigate was clear of the island, a bright look-out was kept for the french privateers or any other of the enemy's vessels. the frigate had been cruising for a week or more, and had already got some distance from jamaica, having during the time captured several small vessels, some of which had been destroyed and others sent to port royal, when one forenoon a large ship was descried to leeward. all sail was crowded in chase, and as the frigate had the advantage of the wind, the stranger being almost becalmed, she soon came up with her. as soon as the breeze reached the stranger, without hoisting her colours, she made all sail in an attempt to escape. various opinions were offered as to her character. some thought she was a spanish galleon, though how she should have come thus far north was a question not easily answered. others believed she was a large french merchantman, and some pronounced her to be a privateer. she was a fast craft, at all events, for as soon as she felt the breeze she slipped through the water at a rate which made it doubtful whether the "venus" would come up with her. this made the english still more anxious for her capture, as, in the first place, if a merchantman, she was likely to have a rich cargo on board, and at all events she might be converted into a useful cruiser. it was a general opinion in those days that the french vessels were faster sailers than the english, and certain it is that many of the best models of men-of-war were taken from the french. the genoese, however, were reputed to be better ship-builders than either. a stern chase is a long chase always. the stranger persevered in her flight, in the hope that some accident might secure her escape. the english pursued in the hope that an accident to the chase might enable them to capture her. the day wore on, and fears were entertained that the chase would escape during the darkness of the night. every stitch of canvas which the frigate could carry was set on her, while the sails which could be reached were kept constantly wet, that no wind might pass through them. the crew cheered with glee when they found that their efforts were not without good effect, and that the frigate at last was overhauling the chase. at length she got near enough to fire a bow-chaser. the shot took effect, and cut away several of her braces. this allowed the sails to fly wildly in the air. in consequence, the frigate now came up more rapidly, and, as she did so, continued firing with good effect. the chase at length let fly all her sheets, and hauled down the french flag, which had just before been run up. as soon as the frigate hove to, lieutenant deane was ordered to board the prize with a boat's crew. she proved to be a rich merchant vessel outward-bound to the french colonies on the main, with a large and valuable assorted cargo, and was evidently a prize worth taking. the captain of the "venus" was ordered to send in his prizes, as he should take them, to port royal, but as long as he had sufficient men to fight his ship not to return himself. it was important, however, that so rich a prize should be carefully navigated, and he accordingly ordered his junior lieutenant--john deane--to take charge of her with a crew of fifteen men, to carry her into port royal. ten of her former crew volunteered to assist in navigating her, and they were allowed to remain, while the rest, with the captain and officers, were carried on board the "venus." jack now found himself for the first time in his life in command of a large ship. as may be supposed, he had not been asleep all the time he had been at sea, and he already possessed a very good knowledge of seamanship, as well as of navigation. he had no doubt, therefore, that he should be able safely to carry his prize to her destined port. two midshipmen were sent with him to act as lieutenants, and an old quarter-master to do the duty of boatswain. jack was a great favourite among all with whom he had served, both with his superiors and with those beneath him. his two young midshipmen--dick lovatt and ned hawke--had become particularly-attached to him, while will burridge, the old quarter-master, would have gone through fire and water to serve him. on one occasion, burridge, whether he had had too much jamaica rum on board or not it was difficult to say, managed to fall overboard into the harbour swarming with sharks. as the tide was running strong at the time, burridge had already been swept some distance from the ship before he was perceived. jack, regardless of the sharks, leaped overboard, and swimming towards the sinking seaman, kept him up, splashing about so as to make the monsters of the deep keep at a respectful distance till a boat arrived to take them both on board. jack declared it was not a thing to be talked about, any body might have done the same, and therefore it was not mentioned at the time of its occurrence. it however raised deane's character among the crew, and made them all ready to volunteer in any expedition where he was to lead. as soon as the damages which the prize had received were repaired, the frigate stood on her course, and jack made sail for port royal. the prize was called the "coquille," and carried twelve guns, so that jack hoped, should he be attacked by one of the enemy's privateers, or any small man-of-war, he might make a good fight of it, and beat off his opponent if he could not take her. the first day the weather was very fine; the wind then fell, and there was a dead calm. the sun struck down with intense heat on the deck of the vessel, making the very pitch in her seams bubble up. the crew began to feel the effects of the heat, and moved languidly about the decks, exhibiting a listlessness very different to their usual activity. jack with one of his officers was sitting below at dinner, when hawke, the other, who had the watch on deck, entered the cabin. "i thought it as well to tell you, sir," he said, "that i don't quite like the way the frenchmen are carrying on. i have observed them for some time past whispering together, and i cannot help thinking that they expect to find us napping, and to set on us and try to retake the vessel." "it's as well to be prepared," answered jack. "thank you for your forethought. but it will scarcely be right to put them in irons, unless we have evidence of their intention. i will tell burridge, and hint to the men to be on the look-out, so that we shall be even with the monsieurs if they make the attempt which you fancy they purpose." burridge soon made his appearance in the cabin, hat in hand, and receiving his directions hurried back to speak to the english crew. jack and his two young officers, having loaded their pistols and stuck them in their belts, and fastened on their swords, made their appearance also on deck. the frenchmen seemed to be watching them; but if they had any sinister intentions, the preparations which jack had made to oppose them compelled them for the moment to keep quiet. chapter twenty nine. hurricane--captured by pirates. jack had not had much experience with the west india climate; but he had heard enough of the signs preceding a hurricane to make him somewhat anxious about the state of the weather. gradually a thick mist seemed to be overspreading the sky, while there was not a breath of wind sufficient to move a feather in the rigging. "we shall have the wind down upon us presently," he observed to hawke. "we will clue up every thing, and strike the topgallant-masts. if the wind does not come it will be no great harm, as it will only give the frenchmen something more to do; and if it does come, and we have all this gear aloft, it will be carried away to a certainty." the order was immediately issued, and the hands flew aloft to carry it out. before, however, the canvas was all secured, a white line of foam was seen rushing towards the ship, extending on either side as far as the eye could reach. on it came, rising in height, while a loud roar burst on the ears of the crew. "down for your lives, men, down!" shouted jack, as the ship, struck by the furious blast, heeled over. some obeyed the summons and slid down on deck in time; but others, who did not hear the order, remained aloft, many in their terror clinging to spars and shrouds, unable to move. over heeled the stout ship. the masts like willow-wands bent, and then, snapping in two, were carried away to leeward. the lower yards dipped in the water, and most of those upon them were torn away from their grasp, while others were hurled to a distance from the ship. for a few minutes she lay helplessly on her beam-ends, then happily feeling the power of her helm, which was put up, the canvas at the same time being blown away, her head paid off, and righting herself she flew before the gale. in vain the poor wretches who had been hurled into the water shrieked for help. no human help could reach them! in a few minutes they were left far behind, while the ship, lately so trim and gallant, was hurried on, too likely to meet that destruction which overtook many other stout vessels at that time. more than half the english crew had been lost, and only one of the frenchmen, so that their numbers were now more equal. on flew the ship. the sea torn and thrown up by the force of the hurricane, loud-roaring billows foamed and hissed on either side, while darkness soon came on to add to the horrors of the scene. undaunted, jack and his crew exerted themselves to clear away the wreck of the masts and spars. the fearful working of the ship, however, made it too probable that if not very strongly-built, she would spring a leak and go down. every instant the seas grew higher and higher, and it was with difficulty that she could be kept before the wind. her boats were washed away by the seas which broke on board, and though often she was in danger of being pooped by those which dashed against her stern, still she floated on. when morning at length dawned, the hurricane began to abate. the wind ceased almost as rapidly as it had commenced; but the once stout ship, now almost a wreck, rolled heavily in the still tumbling seas. as yet little could be done to get her put to rights. she was still at a considerable distance from jamaica, and with his diminished crew, jack saw that it would take some time to rig jury-masts, and thus enable him to shape a proper course for port royal. as soon, however, as the sea went sufficiently down, and the ship became steadier, he ordered the crew to commence the work. his own men willingly obeyed; but the frenchmen walked forward sullenly, declaring that there would be no use in exerting themselves, and positively refusing to work. while they were acting thus, burridge brought him word that several had, by some means or other, got hold of fire-arms and hangers, and were evidently prepared for mischief. "we must watch our opportunity, and try to disarm them," observed john deane. "work they must, by some means or other, or else they must be put in irons." to do this, however, was no easy task, considering that there were as many frenchmen as englishmen, and the former were evidently desperate fellows. hawke was fortunately able to speak french very well, and jack directed him therefore to address the mutineers, and ask them again whether they would assist in putting the ship into order. a flat refusal was the answer, and thus the whole day was occupied. the following night was one of great anxiety, as it became necessary to keep a constant watch over the frenchmen, lest they should suddenly attack the english and attempt to regain the ship. jack did not allow himself a moment's rest, but continued, with arms by his side, pacing the deck, while a constant watch was kept on the movements of the mutineers. dawn at length broke; and soon after the sun rose above the horizon its bright rays struck on the sails of a large vessel which was seen standing towards the "coquille," with a light breeze then blowing. jack anxiously watched her through his glass, hoping, from the cut of her sails, that she might prove an english man-of-war. as she came on, he hoisted on the stump of the main-mast the english ensign reversed, the signal of distress. on the nearer approach of the stranger, however, deane observed that the english flag was not hoisted in return, which would have been the case had she been a friend. if she had been at sea during the hurricane, she had escaped wonderfully well, for her masts and yards were as trim as if she had just come out of port. her decks, too, seemed crowded with men. in a short time, running under the stern of the "coquille," she "hove to," and a man with a speaking-trumpet hailed from her deck, demanding the name of the vessel, and where she was bound to. "a prize to her majesty's ship `venus,' and bound for port royal," answered jack. "and very little chance you'll have of getting there," replied the man with the speaking-trumpet, "we will send a boat aboard you and see about the matter." in another minute two well-armed boats were lowered from the stranger, and soon came alongside the "coquille." their crews jumped on board. "you have been caught in the hurricane, i see," said the man who seemed to act as the officer. "what is your cargo?" jack told him. "lucky for us, then, that you did not go down," was the answer. "and now set to work and get the ship in order. you must understand that you are a prize to the `black hawk,' belonging to a company of gentlemen adventurers. there's no use grumbling: it's the fortune of war. and now bear a hand and get your ship to rights as fast as you can. we will help you, and carry you safely into port, though not the port maybe you were bound for." jack's heart sank within him when he heard this. resistance would be utterly useless. even had the frenchmen remained faithful, the pirates, for such he had little doubt they were, numbered ten to one of his own diminished crew. at first he and his young officers felt disposed to refuse to work, but burridge, an experienced old seaman, strongly advised them to obey. "there's no use whatsomever, sir, to quarrel with these sort of gentry," he observed. "they would as likely as not make a man walk the plank if they're angry with him, and if we don't try to please them they will probably send every one of us to be food for the sharks before another day passes over our heads." jack saw the wisdom of this advice, so, putting the best face on the matter he could, he ordered his own people to commence the work he had been about to carry out when the pirate appeared. the frenchmen were quickly made to change their tone, and the pirates, observing that they did not work with as good a will as the english, kept pricking them on, every now and then, with the points of their swords, amusing themselves greatly at the sight of the grimaces which were made in consequence of this treatment. poor jack! this was the greatest trial he had ever gone through in his life. after having fully expected to enter port royal in triumph with a fine prize, thus to have it snatched from him by a band of rascally pirates! still he did the best to keep up his spirits, hoping that some opportunity might occur to enable him ere long to make his escape. "it cannot be helped," observed burridge, "and `what cannot be cured, must be endured,' as my old woman used to say when she allowed the porridge to burn on the fire. it's a long lane too, you know, sir, which has no turning, and though maybe these gentry will make us do a few things we shall not like, still, as long as they don't cut our throats, we will manage some day or other to get clear of them." the pirates, to do them justice, were not idle themselves. a considerable number more now came on board to help get the ship into order, as it was very evident to them that she was a valuable prize. as soon as sail could be made on the ship, jack and his officers were ordered to keep to their cabins, as he supposed, to prevent them ascertaining the direction which the ship was steering. this, so far, proved satisfactory, as it proved that the pirates had no immediate intention of taking their lives. three days thus passed away, when from the perfectly smooth way in which the vessel glided on, deane suspected that they were entering some harbour. the midshipmen were of the same opinion, and hawke volunteered to try to reach the deck, to ascertain where they had got to. on going out, however, he found a sentry at the door, who ordered him back, telling him, that without the captain's leave they would not be allowed to leave their cabin. in a short time longer, the sound of the anchor let go, and the perfect stillness of the ship, convinced jack that he was right in his conjectures. soon after this a person they had not before seen came to the cabin. "now, friends," he said, "if you are wise men, you will enter with us and cut the service to which you have belonged. we don't serve either king or queen, and have only ourselves to obey, while instead of handing over the profits of our labours to others we keep them for ourselves. we have a jovial life of it. no lack of adventure and excitement, and as much gold and silver as we can pick up, though, to be sure, we now and then have a little fighting for it, but that only adds to its value. what say you, lads? will you join us?" "thank you for your polite offer," answered deane, "but we are well content with the service in which we're engaged, and have no fancy for changing it. we, too, have plenty of fighting, and can generally scrape up as much gold as we want." "enough is as good as a feast," observed burridge; "and i'll tell you what, sir, with due respect to you, we would rather serve queen anne than king mobb sogg, or any other king in or out of christendom; and though you gentlemen buccaneers are very fine fellows, we have no fancy just at present of becoming one of your number." "it would have been better for you if you had made up your minds to follow my advice," answered the pirate officer; "i should have been able to set you at liberty at once and let you wander all over our island. as it is, you must be content to remain shut up on board, or maybe on shore, where we have a sort of prison which is sometimes useful." jack and his companions were in no way ill-treated, except in being confined to the cabin, while an abundance of provisions were brought to them. from the noises they heard they judged that the cargo of the vessel was being taken out of her, and they hoped when that was done that some change or other might take place in their condition. they had no fancy to remain prisoners for ever, and they determined that if not released by their captors, they would endeavour if possible to escape by themselves. burridge had been allowed to join them in the cabin. he told them he was afraid that the rest of the crew had joined the pirates, as they had all left the vessel shouting and singing, and apparently in very good-humour. he alone had refused to do so, in spite of the threats of punishment which the pirates uttered. "i have sworn to fight for our country and for our new queen, and i intend to do so as long as there is life in me," he observed. in those days the bands of buccaneers which had made themselves a terror to the spaniards had been dispersed. at the peace of ryswick, finding that their occupation was gone, and that they would not long receive the support of the english government, many of them accepted offers of land in the plantations and became settlers. those who were unwilling to lead a quiet life turned regular pirates, mostly hoisting black flags, with some hideous device, such as skulls and crossbones, and attacked all nations indiscriminately. deane fully believed that he had fallen into the hands of characters of this sort, though he was surprised that they had hitherto treated him and his companions with so much leniency. at length an officer visited them. he was a fierce-looking fellow, with his broad-brimmed hat and leather cocked on one side. a huge belt was slung across his shoulders, in which two or three brace of pistols were stuck. a hanger was by his side, with a silk coat covered with gold lace, while his face was adorned with a large moustache and a long black beard. "well, my hearties," he exclaimed as he entered, "i hope you like being shut up here like dogs in a kennel! it's a strange fancy if you do; to my mind, it would be better to have your freedom and enjoy yourselves on shore. what would you say, now, if i was to offer it you?" "we should be obliged to you, master," answered jack; "for we should like to stretch our legs on shore amazingly." "ah, that's sensible!" answered the visitor; "but you must agree to my terms if you do." "that may alter the case," said jack. "let us hear your terms though, and we may judge whether we can accept them." "ah, they're easy enough!" said their visitor. "all you have to do, is to swear to be faithful to our fraternity, and if you're ordered to draw your sword and fight on our side, you will do it, even though our enemies should be your former friends." "this is only mockery!" exclaimed jack. "if you tell us to draw our swords against our countrymen, we tell you at once, we would die rather than do so!" "then you must remain prisoners, and be treated as such," answered their visitor. "however, as this craft will prove a fine cruiser, we are going to fit her out for sea, and if you don't choose to go in her, you will have to come on shore." the pirate continued talking much in this way for some time, but without producing any effect upon his hearers. at last he got angry, and, slamming the door after him, went on deck. he soon returned, however, with a dozen men, whom he ordered to take charge of the four prisoners and to convey them on shore. they were accordingly marched up on deck, where for the first time jack was enabled to examine the place into which the ship had been carried. it was a large lagoon, the entrance from the sea being so narrow that he could with difficulty make it out. cocoanut and palm-trees thickly lined the shore, between which a few huts were seen, but no rising ground was visible, and deane conjectured that they were on one of the quays which are to be found in the neighbourhood of saint domingo, and which had been the resort for many ages of pirates. the boat in which they were placed proceeded up the lagoon for some distance, when they were landed on one side of it, and surrounded by their guards and marched up away from the water. in a short time some huts of considerably larger dimensions than those they had already seen were reached, and one of them was pointed out as their future prison. it was close to the other houses, and was one of the largest in the village. being ordered to go in, the door was closed behind them. it had, however, the advantage of a window, which, though strongly grated, gave them light and air, and enabled them to look out. it was, in other respects, a very undesirable residence, the furniture consisting of merely a couple of rough stools and a bench, with a rickety table. "i am afraid, sir, we've fallen out of the frying-pan into the fire," observed burridge, as he surveyed the apartment. "on board we had our beds to sleep on, and decent furniture, but here we have nothing to boast of, of that sort, while i'm afraid it will be more than ever difficult for us to get away." it seemed but too likely that they were to be starved into compliance with the pirates' wishes, for hour after hour passed away and no provisions were brought them. at length burridge, who had been examining the place, expressed his belief that they might be able to work their way through the roof, and so get out. "if they attempt to starve us, it's a thing we must do," he observed; "and it will be hard if we go foraging about the island and cannot find any food; and then if it's impossible to get off, we must e'en before morning get back into our present prison, and maybe it will not be discovered that we have ever left it." the two midshipmen were delighted with this proposal, though deane doubted somewhat that it would be carried out. their only amusement was looking out of the window, which there was room for two of them to do at a time; but it was too small to allow more than that number to look out of it together. now and then people were seen moving about, and passing at a distance from the prison; but no one came near enough for the prisoners to speak to them. jack determined to do so if he could, however, that he might try to ascertain something more of the character of the people among whom they had fallen. he had been looking out for some time when he saw a person approaching, whom, by his dress and gay sash full of pistols, his hat with a feather, and the rich, jewelled hilt to his sword, he concluded was an officer. the man turned his face for an instant up to the window. although his hair was somewhat grizzled and his beard bushy and long, partly concealing his face, the conviction flashed across jack's mind that he was no other than master pearson, as he called himself, with whom he had parted in the fens of lincolnshire! the man turned away and passed on; but from his gait and manner, deane felt still more convinced that he was not mistaken. instantly a number of thoughts crowded into his mind. was he there alone, or had he brought with him his wife and reputed daughter? robber and outlaw as he might be in england, deane still thought he was not debased enough to place them in so dangerous a position; and yet if they were not with him, where could he have left them? the one redeeming quality of the man was his devotion to his wife and the affection with which he seemed to regard the little elizabeth. jack felt more than ever anxious that he might get out of prison that he might solve this question. still, if it was pearson, he had no wish to make himself known to him. he felt also a disinclination to mention the circumstances by which he had become acquainted with the man to his companions. he thought over and over again how he should act; but at the end of the time had arrived at no conclusion. john deane of nottingham--by w.h.g. kingston chapter thirty. imprisonment in the pirates' island--the lovers' meeting. notwithstanding the fears of the prisoners, the pirates seemed to have no intention of starving them, for in a short time a man came to the hut with an ample supply of cooked meat and a basket containing several bottles of wine. "there, mates," he said, "our captain sent you these things, and advises you to think over the matter our chief mate spoke to you about the other day. you will judge how we fare ourselves by the way we treat you." as there was food enough to last for some time they naturally expected they should not receive another visit during the day. as soon, therefore, as they had satisfied their hunger, burridge continued his examination of the roof, and found, by removing the bamboo rafters, he could without difficulty force his way out through it. he proposed, therefore, as soon as it was dark, to get out and find his way down to the shore, as, in all probability, the island being but small, he could do so without difficulty. he thought then that if a boat or a small vessel could be found, they might all manage to get on board and make their escape without being discovered. "you see," he observed, "all is fish which comes to the nets of these gentlemen, and they will take small craft as well as large vessels. they are very likely to have captured a small schooner or sloop, and to have brought her into the harbour. they're certain also, if they have done so, not to keep any strict watch over her, and if we 'bide our time we shall find a way of getting on board without interruption. i have heard of the doings of these gentry, and, depend upon it, some night they will be having a carouse when no one will be on the look-out." these remarks of the honest boatswain raised the spirits of his companions, and they determined, at all risks, to take advantage of the opportunity should it occur. the midshipmen proposed that the whole party should go together; but this jack over-ruled, considering that should any body come to the hut and find it empty, search would be made for them, whereas by only one being absent, discovery was less likely. as soon, therefore, as it was dark burridge made his way through the roof, and they heard him drop gently to the ground on the other side of the hut. he immediately afterwards came round to the window. "all right, sir," he said; "i saw the glimmer of the water when i was on the top of the hut, and i shall easily find my way to it. the pirates are carousing down by the huts on the shore, for i heard their voices singing and shouting, so i shall have a good chance of not being found out." saying this burridge glided away through the cocoanut grove by which the village was surrounded. his companions waited anxiously for his return. "if he is taken, i have a fancy they would not hesitate to send a pistol-bullet through his head," said hawke. "i wish that i could have gone with him, mr deane." "you would only have shared his fate, and so have gained nothing, and done him no good," answered jack. "let us wait patiently: he has his wits about him, and he will take good care not to be caught." two or three hours passed by and still burridge did not make his appearance. his companions grew more and more anxious, both on his account and on their own. if he was taken their prospect of escape would be much lessened. in jack's mind also a new difficulty had arisen. even supposing that the opportunity should occur of escaping, he could not bring himself to leave the island without ascertaining whether dame pearson and elizabeth were residing on it. before therefore he could go he must settle this point, one almost as difficult as that of escaping. at length a voice was heard under the window. "all right," said burridge, in a whisper; "i'll tell you all about it as soon as i'm safe inside again." he soon made his way up to the top of the hut, and getting through the hole replaced the thatch and bamboo rafters before he jumped down to the ground. "i was right," he said, "and made my way down to the harbour. it is farther off though than i supposed; and i heard people moving about, so i had to be cautious; and more than all, they have two or three of those spanish bloodhounds with them, and it's a wonder the beasts did not find me out, and if they had come across my track they would have done so to a certainty. however i got down to the shore safe. i counted six or seven vessels in the harbour, besides two or three small ones, and several boats hauled up on the beach. so far as a craft is concerned, we have only to pick and choose. then comes the difficulty of getting on board and finding our way out of the harbour. if we had been on deck when we came in we might have done that more easily, but to get out at night without knowing the passage will be a hard job indeed. however, it must be done by some means or other." it was agreed at last that they must wait for a moonlight night, when by sounding with a boat they might hope to get the vessel, in which they finally expected to make their escape, safe through the passage. it would also be necessary that the pirates should be indulging in a carouse and be off the watch, and that the wind should blow down the harbour. every time the men who brought them their provisions came jack sent a message to the captain, begging that they might be released, and allowed to wander at their will throughout the island. several days had passed, however, and no answer had been returned. deane possessed an iron frame, but the anxiety which he endured began to tell greatly upon him, and for the first time in his life, he felt that he was becoming seriously ill. the thought occurred to him that it might be the yellow fever. every day he grew worse and worse. his head ached, his limbs were full of pains, still he kept up his spirits as well as he could, and he and his companions continued to entertain hopes of escaping. one night burridge returned from his usual expedition in high spirits. he had important information to give. while wandering along the shore he came suddenly upon a person seated on a rock, apparently watching the harbour as he had been. at first he felt very nervous about approaching the man, doubting who he could be. still it struck him that it was not likely to be one of the pirates. he therefore cautiously approached him and, in a low voice, asked him who he was. "you may suppose, sir," said burridge, "when he gave me the account my heart did leap with joy, when i found that he was an old shipmate--the pilot of a vessel i once sailed in! and what was more curious, he has been thinking of the same thing that we have, and hoping to make his escape in the same manner. he tells me that he has two companions on the island who are kept at work by the pirates as slaves; but that he has had an opportunity of speaking to them, and that they're ready to help him make off with a vessel. if i had not known him, i should have been afraid of treachery; but he is a true man, and we need have no fear on that score. there will be moon enough for our purpose about five days hence, and i've arranged that we should all meet him at the spot where i found him at midnight at that time." this information raised jack's spirits, which had become very low in consequence of his illness. the effect, however, was only temporary, for the following day he became worse, and his companions began to fear that he would be taken from them. their daily visitor, as it happened, remained in the hut longer than usual, and had thus an opportunity of observing how ill deane looked. the midshipmen and burridge also told him that they were afraid their officer would die if he had not some help. "true enough, master," said the man. "i will tell our captain, and perhaps he will do something for him. we have no objection to killing men in fair fight; but it is not our way to put them out of the world by clapping them into prisons, as they do in some countries." saying this the man took his departure, promising to inform his captain of deane's state of health. "whatever happens to me," said deane to his companions, "you must endeavour to make your escape, according to the present arrangement. if you can find your way to jamaica, you will be able to tell the authorities whereabouts this island is situated, and they will then probably send a man-of-war to bargain with the pirates for my release, or if they will not do that, to get me off by force." about an hour after their first visitor had left them, footsteps were heard approaching the door. it opened, and jack, as he lifted his head from the bed of straw on which he lay in one corner, saw standing before him his old acquaintance--pearson! "they tell me you have fallen sick," he said, "and want a doctor. now i'm none myself, and there's no one i can send here to cure you; but, as i don't want you to suppose that we are entire barbarians, if you wish it, i will have you taken to my house, and there are some there who, maybe, will look after you and help cure you better than any doctor we can find in these parts." under other circumstances, deane would certainly have declined the offer, which would have made his escape impossible; but from the remarks made by the pirate captain, he could not help hoping that the persons he spoke of might prove to be dame pearson and elizabeth. he felt, too, that even should he wish to attempt escaping, from his weakness he would be a great burden to his companions, while he would run the risk of losing his own life. he therefore replied that he was thankful for the offer made to him, and gladly accepted it. at this the captain summoned a couple of men who were waiting outside with a litter, and lifting jack upon it, without allowing him much time to bid farewell to his companions, they carried him off. the midshipmen were greatly afraid that he would exact a promise from them not to attempt to escape. they were therefore greatly relieved when they saw him take his departure, leaving them at liberty to act as they thought best. they immediately consulted what should be done, and agreed, for his sake as well as their own, that they should endeavour to make their way to port royal as soon as possible, and despatch an expedition to destroy the nest of pirates. deane's bearers carried him along through the cocoanut grove for some distance, when they came before a cottage far superior in appearance to any of those he had before passed. a garden in front bloomed with flowers, and a wide verandah afforded shade to the rooms within. deane's heart beat somewhat quicker than usual as he saw these and other signs of the presence of females. "here, dame, is a man who wants looking after. it will be to your and fair bessy's taste, and he will be grateful i doubt not. he was brought in here some time since on board a prize, and if it had not been for me, he and his companions would have been food for sharks by this time." jack heard these words spoken as his bearers reached the door of the cottage. he had little difficulty in recognising the voice of master pearson, though perhaps had he not previously seen that individual he might not have done so. pearson, for some reason or other, kept out of sight, and deane found himself carried into a room and placed on a couch formed out of bamboos. the room was, however, in other respects richly furnished, with silk hangings, and gold and silver ornaments of all descriptions, quite out of character with the general appearance of the building. "dare, massa, you will do well," said one of the negro bearers, with a good-natured expression of countenance. "soon lily-white lady come look after you. i is 'tello, you remember me, massa; i love englishmen." jack was not left long alone. scarcely had the negroes taken their departure when he heard footsteps approaching the door. his heart beat quickly, for he fully expected to see elizabeth pearson, who he could not help persuading himself was an inhabitant of the island. instead of elizabeth, however, an old lady entered the room, followed by a black damsel. he turned his eyes towards the former, expecting to recognise the features of dame pearson. at first he could scarcely believe that a few years could have made so great an alteration in her, and he had to look twice before he was certain that she was the good dame who had treated him so kindly in the fens, sickness and anxiety having already worked a great change in her; yet dame pearson was the person who had just entered the room, of that he was sure. "i was told that an english officer is ill, and requires aid," she said. "i therefore desired that he might be brought here. i will feel your pulse, sir, that i may judge what remedies to apply." jack was not surprised that she did not recognise him, and he thought it better not to make himself known to her at first. he felt however great disappointment at the non-appearance of elizabeth; still, till he had told dame pearson who he was, he could not ask after her. from what the negro said, however, he still hoped that she might be in the house. the dame, after consulting with her attendant, retired again, saying that she would prepare such remedies as were most likely to benefit him. he thanked her, begging that they might be applied soon, for he felt so ill that, stout of heart as he was, he could not help at times believing that he should not recover. "we will do our best for you, but the issue is in the hands of god," answered the dame calmly. "however, in the meantime i will send my daughter that she may read to you from his word. thence you will obtain more comfort than man can bestow." saying this she left the room. jack's eyes kept continually turned towards the door, and in another minute it opened, and a fair girl entered the room. she was taller, however, and of larger proportions than the little elizabeth he had so often thought of. she carried a bible in her hand, and taking a seat at a short distance from him, scarcely giving him more than a slight glance, opened the book. "you will undoubtedly draw comfort, as we have done, sir, from god's blessed word. i will therefore read to you from the psalms of david, who was a man tried and afflicted." she commenced reading in a low, gentle voice. jack could with difficulty refrain from making himself known, for he at once recognised that sweet voice which he had known so well. she read on for some short time, and then turned to passages in other parts of the book which she thought calculated to bring comfort to one in sickness and distress. jack at length could restrain himself no longer. "elizabeth," he exclaimed, "elizabeth de mertens! do you not know me?" she flew to his side, and trembling took his hand which he stretched out towards her. "who are you?" she exclaimed. "yes, yes, i know you, i know your voice! jack deane you are--yes, you must be! but oh, how did you come here? how do you know me, and that name by which you call me? i remember it well. it was my own name, though i had well-nigh forgotten it. have you come to take me away from this dreadful place? and oh, from that dreadful man too?" "yes, indeed i am jack deane--and often have i thought of you, elizabeth!" he answered; "and it was in consequence of the ring you gave me that i discovered your name. but sit down, and i will tell you by degrees what has occurred. if i was to give the history all at once, i have so many things to say that i should bewilder you. but i also want to learn about you--how you came here, and your adventures; for it seems strange that you have been brought out to this lonely island, to live among pirates and outlaws!" "i am afraid you give them but their true name," answered elizabeth; "but let me hear about yourself, and those from whom you learnt my name." jack could not speak without difficulty, but he managed, however, to give elizabeth a brief account of himself, entering more particularly into the way in which he had discovered her parents. they were interrupted by the return of dame pearson and her black attendant. "hush!" said elizabeth; "say nothing now: i will tell my mother when the girl is not present. i fear she is not to be trusted." the discovery jack had made, instead of increasing his fever, had a beneficial effect, so it seemed, as it restored his spirits in a way that nothing else would have done. all his thoughts were now occupied in devising a scheme for carrying off elizabeth from the island. so completely had the fever deprived jack of strength, that for several days he was unable to rise from his couch, although, thanks to the kind and constant attention he received, he was gradually recovering. he was especially anxious all this time to hear from his companions; but dame pearson could give him no information, nor could elizabeth, although they believed that they still remained shut up in their prison. chapter thirty one. dame pearson's history--engagement between the pirate and queen's ship. pearson all this time had never appeared, though elizabeth told jack that he was still on the island. one day, however, he heard his voice raised to a high and angry pitch, very unlike the calm tone in which he used generally to speak. "this is the sort of watch you fellows keep over your prisoners!" pearson was exclaiming. "while you are in your drunken fits the whole island might be attacked and taken, and all our vessels cut out. you say you do not know when they got off? then why did you not, the instant you made the discovery, put to sea in the first vessel you could get ready, and make chase after them? go! hasten now, villains! they can scarcely be many leagues away, and are sure to be steering a course for port royal." some grumbling remonstrances were heard in return to this address. "well, knaves, well, you shall sail in the sloop, and i'll follow in the ship as soon as she can be got ready for sea," exclaimed the pirate chief. "if you are afraid of being caught by a queen's ship, we shall be in time to save you from hanging; why, and if not, you will only meet the fate which is certain to be yours one of these days!" "and yours too, captain!" shouted one of the men. "why do you bring that up before us?" "marry, indeed! because i have a fancy to please you. there's this difference between us, however: you are afraid of it, and would do any sneaking thing to avoid the noose! i have no fear of that or any thing else, and so would not step out of my way to escape it. and now delay no longer, but be off with you all. i'll be down at the harbour anon, and we'll see how quickly we gentlemen rovers can get a ship ready for sea." from the conversation he had overheard, jack thus knew that his friends had escaped. at the same time he dreaded the consequences of their being overtaken, well knowing from the temper of the pirate and his followers that, should they be captured, they would have but little chance of preserving their lives. he earnestly hoped, therefore, that they might escape safely to port royal. two days after this he heard from elizabeth that pearson and his followers had left the island in their big ship. "now you may, without risk, tell my kind second-mother who you are. it will make her more ready, i doubt not, to plead for you with her husband, should such become necessary. if your friends escape him, he will probably return in a very bad humour, and be much disposed to wreak his vengeance on your head," said elizabeth. elizabeth, very naturally, took every opportunity of being with jack alone, that she might hear more about her parents, of whom he had so much to tell, as also of his own adventures. the more he saw of her, the more he was struck by her natural refinement and intelligence, and the amount of information which she had been able to obtain. at length the secret was told to dame pearson. at first she would scarcely believe that jack was the same youth she had formerly known, and she had to examine his countenance very narrowly before she would believe his and elizabeth's assertions. at length, however, she was convinced. "i see no more reason to doubt," she observed, "after all, that you should have changed from a drover to a naval officer, than that we, after living quiet lives as farmers in old england, should have become outcasts and wanderers on the earth." jack had almost recovered even before pearson left the island, but he did not wish to appear so, lest it should be the signal for his being dismissed from the cottage. now, however, being able to leave the house, he rapidly regained his strength, and was able to walk about the island in company with elizabeth. those were happy days! he no longer concealed from himself that he had given her his heart, and he had good reason to suspect that he possessed hers in return. they took care in their walks to keep at a good distance from the huts; the permanent residents in the island consisting chiefly of old buccaneers and the wives and families of others away in the ships. these latter were, however, chiefly mulattoes or negresses, and it any of them caught sight of him and elizabeth, they merely staved, taking him probably for one of the buccaneers. he passed his evenings in company with dame pearson and elizabeth, reading and talking while they sat at their work. the poor lady was at first somewhat reserved, but as her confidence in jack was established, she described to him her grief and sorrow when she discovered the course her husband purposed to pursue. "on the discovery of the jacobite plot, believing that he himself would be betrayed, he suddenly determined to quit england," said the dame, continuing a narrative she had begun. "going to a sea-port, he at first took out a licence as a privateer. that was bad enough, for his crew were bold and daring, and were constantly chasing or being chased; now and then fighting, but generally only attacking unarmed traders. not knowing what to do with elizabeth, and finding she was not averse to accompanying us, i had at first consented to bring her to sea, not at all aware of the life we were to lead." although several prizes were thus taken, this slow mode of gaining wealth did not suit the captain or the majority of his men, and they therefore resolved to go out to the west indies and to hoist the black flag. the plan had been kept from dame pearson and her daughter, but they heard of it, though they in vain urged pearson to abandon the undertaking. he laughed at their scruples, and promised that in a few years they would make enough to enable them to retire to virginia, or to some other plantation, and there settle down and enjoy the fruits of their enterprise. "why should not i do as well as sir henry morgan, and fifty other fine fellows have done?" he exclaimed. "to be sure, some have lost their lives, but they were either drunkards or too audacious--but i am much too careful to be caught as they were." he only laughed at his wife when she pointed out to him the sinfulness of this proposed occupation, and at length told her that he had been a robber all his life, and that he had no intention of turning an honest man till he had made his fortune. this was the first intimation the poor woman had had of his career on shore, whatever might have been her suspicions on the subject. she was anxious on her own account, and still more unhappy on that of elizabeth, when she found that nothing would turn her husband from his resolution. still he had not lost all his former respect for her, and at length he consented to fix his abode on the island where jack had found her. she had therefore only to wait patiently, hoping that he would soon put in execution the plan he had proposed, of finally settling down in one of the plantations. she had kept elizabeth as much as possible in ignorance of pearson's character, but she had, however, at length found it out; and though looking at him with a feeling somewhat akin to horror, still she had determined not to desert, even should she have the opportunity, the kind woman who had adopted her and ever treated her as a daughter. elizabeth herself, however, was not free from annoyances, for her youth and beauty had attracted the attention of several of the buccaneers, or, as they called themselves, "gentlemen of fortune," and two or three of the officers, who looked upon their qualifications as superior to those of their companions, had made overtures to their chief for the hand of his supposed daughter. she, however, had rejected them with scorn, and pearson still entertained so much respect and regard for her, that he had sworn that no man should have her against her will. "ah, master deane, you little know what quarrels have taken place about her!" said the dame, one day when elizabeth was absent. "three or four duels have been fought to my certain knowledge, and one young man among the gang was run through the body and killed, because he had sworn that no other than himself should be her husband. at last the captain had to declare that he would shoot the first man who killed another in any duel about her, and that, for a time, put a stop to the quarrels among them. i always thought myself that she was of gentle blood, from the account my husband gave me of the lady who placed her in his arms, and i am thankful therefore that she should not have been thrown away on any one beneath the rank of a gentleman, still more on any of these ruffian buccaneers, who, in spite of all their boasting, would very soon have broken her heart. the only wife fit for one of them, is a girl who is pleased with being covered with gold chains, and rings, and jewels, and cares nothing for her husband's love. i know by experience how sad a thing it is for a wife to be mated to a man below her in rank, however kind and generous he may be. such my husband has always been to me since he saved my life, but i was born and educated as a gentlewoman, and i have frequently had cause to feel a difference between us. since my marriage i have never met with any of my family. they were all dispersed in the civil wars. many of my brothers were probably killed fighting on the king's side, and the youngest had set his heart on following the sea, which he probably did; but as our home was broken up, there was no place to which i could write to obtain tidings of them." jack felt that he should be very sorry when the pleasant life he was now leading should come to an end. he spent his days in greater ease and idleness than he had enjoyed since he left home, most of the time sitting by the side of elizabeth, or taking walks with her along the sea-shore or through the woods. one day as he was sitting on a rock by the sea-side with elizabeth, holding her hand in his, and talking of that happy future of which lovers delight to discourse, a white speck appeared in the horizon, which they well knew to be a sail. gradually it increased in size. higher and higher it rose, till the white canvas of a tall ship appeared above the long, unbroken line in the distance. the hull next came in sight, and the ship glided on rapidly towards the island. while the lovers were watching her, wondering what she could be, whether the pirate vessel or some stranger, another appeared in the same spot where she had first been seen. gradually the sails of that one also rose upward, till the whole ship came in sight. both of them were nearly before the wind, carrying as much canvas as they were able to bear. the first came rapidly on. "she is bound in for the harbour," observed jack, "and from my recollection of the vessel which boarded us when i was made prisoner, i have no doubt that that is the same. if so, we must expect to have the pirate and his gang on shore again." "but what can that other vessel be?" asked elizabeth, pointing towards the stranger. jack stood up to examine her, shading his eyes with his hand. "she looks to me wonderfully like a man-of-war. it is possible that she may be in chase of the pirate. and see, here comes another vessel, her topsails are already above the horizon--and a third also! the pirates have brought a whole host of their enemies down upon them. the authorities in jamaica have, i know, long been on the look-out to discover the head-quarters of the buccaneers. they have come for the purpose of attacking the island, and will not let a pirate escape if they can help it. ah, see, there flies out the black flag! a daring fellow commands that vessel, and, depend upon it, he is resolved to fight it out to the last. the queen's ship has hoisted her colours also. the object of the other is to disable her before her consorts can come up, and if he succeeds in that he hopes to get into the harbour, and there defend himself." the lock on which deane and elizabeth had taken their seat commanded not only a view of the sea, and of the entrance of the harbour, but also of a considerable part of the harbour itself. they could thus from their position watch all that was taking place. the royal cruiser under all sail had stood in shore, to intercept the piratical vessel, which it was naturally supposed would make for the harbour, and it was important therefore to prevent her doing this. it was only, indeed, when the wind blew right in, that a vessel could enter under sail. on other occasions, it was necessary to warp or tow her in--an operation which could not be performed under the fire of an enemy. the pirate, finding that he could not get into the harbour unmolested, hauled up his courses, and boldly stood back towards the british ship, receiving her fire and returning it with interest. elizabeth gazed with lips apart and pale cheeks at the combatants, which now, surrounded by clouds of smoke, were rapidly exchanging broadsides. "oh, how dreadful!" she exclaimed. "it seems as if they must destroy each other. how many souls will thus be launched into eternity! how fearful, too, if the pirate gains the victory! for i have heard tales of the horrible way they treat those they conquer, when their blood is up in such a fight as this." "little fear of that," remarked deane. "our brave countrymen are not likely to give in to a set of mongrel outlaws as are these buccaneers. but mongrels as they are, they fight well, i acknowledge that! see, there goes the mast of one of the ships!" "i can scarcely distinguish one from the other through the smoke," said elizabeth. "it's the frigate's fore-mast, i fear," exclaimed deane. "she is attempting to board the pirate. but no! she has not succeeded, the other sheers off, and continues firing at a distance." as he spoke, the two vessels, which had for some short time been so close together as scarcely to be distinguished in the midst of the smoke, now separated, the pirate steering towards the land, while the frigate lay, with her fore-mast gone, and several spars shot away from the main-mast, while the rigging of the pirate seemed but little injured. "how fearful!" exclaimed elizabeth. "the pirates seem to have gained the victory." "not at all," answered deane; "see, the red flag of england still flies triumphant, and probably, if we could see the decks of the two vessels, we should find that the pirate has been the greater sufferer. his object was to cripple his antagonist, and he has done so successfully, while the wish of the english captain has been to destroy the pirates." although the pirate was so standing that only her after-guns could be brought to bear on the frigate, she continued firing with them, in return for a shot which the latter sent after her. she now stood directly in for the mouth of the harbour, and as she approached close to it her sails were quickly furled, and several boats went out to her, to assist in getting her in, while her own boats were lowered for the same purpose. chapter thirty two. the island captured. "the game is not over yet," observed deane, who with elizabeth still stood on the rock watching the progress of the fight. "the crew of the frigate are busily employed in repairing damages. as soon as that is done, and the other two ships come up, depend upon it, they will attack the island, and, with the strong force the english will then have, the pirates will be utterly unable to resist them." "alas! alas! i wish we could have escaped from the island before this had occurred! i tremble for the fate of my poor mother, for such i must still call her--and what will become of master pearson? for, as far as i can judge, he seems to be the head of the whole community." "for the kindness with which he has ever treated you, if he escapes with his life from the battle, i will use all my influence to protect him," answered deane. "at the same time, i think it likely he will fight to the last. he seems a man who would not yield, as long as a hope of success remains." "let me go then and tell my poor mother of what has occurred, and prepare her for the worst," exclaimed elizabeth. "oh, no! stay here, let me entreat you!" he answered. "you will be safer on this rock, and i may possibly be able to make some signal to the boats as they come in, and thus you will escape the desperate struggle which is likely to take place when the crews land and attack the pirates. or stay! if you can persuade mistress pearson to come here, she will be safer than in her own house. but you must not go alone: i will accompany you, and try and bring her back." to this plan elizabeth willingly agreed, and she and deane immediately hurried forward towards the village. the alarm of the poor lady was very great when she heard what was likely to occur, but she positively refused to quit the house. "go, go!" she replied to elizabeth's entreaties. "leave me to my fate: mr deane will protect you better than i can, and you are not bound either to that unhappy man my husband or to me." deane had now some difficulty in persuading elizabeth to return with him, for she was unwilling to leave poor mistress pearson to the danger to which she would be exposed should the village be stormed, as it was too likely to be. at length, however, she yielded to her and jack's united entreaties, and returned to the rock with deane. by the time they reached it, the other english vessels had almost come up with their crippled consort, and a considerable flotilla of boats was seen collecting round them. the pirates meantime, having warped their vessel into the harbour, had placed her across its mouth, so that her guns pointed directly down towards an enemy approaching in that direction. a considerable number of the people were also engaged on shore in throwing up breastworks at various points likely to be assailed. guns were being brought down from the stores and from the other vessels up the harbour, and every effort was being made which desperate men could think of to defend the place. the english seemed to guess what the pirates were about by the rapidity of their movements, for not a moment was lost after the vessels had met, before the boats began to pull at a rapid rate towards the mouth of the harbour. there were twelve boats in all, carrying a considerable body of men. the ships at the same time stood in as close as they could venture, to cover the attack with their guns. between the rock on which deane and elizabeth stood, was a sandy bay, affording tolerably safe landing. this spot the pirates seemed to have overlooked, though the english were evidently aware of it, for while one party of boats pulled towards the mouth of the harbour, another, suddenly leaving the main body, made a dash towards the bay, for the purpose of landing before the pirates discovered it and were prepared to resist them. on came five boats at a rapid rate, the water foaming at their bows, as their crews urged them through it. deane could with difficulty resist the temptation of hurrying forward to meet them, but he could not leave elizabeth, nor could he place her in the danger to which she would be exposed had he carried her with him. as soon as the ships came close enough they opened their fire at the hastily thrown up forts at the harbour's mouth, while the flotilla of boats dashed forward for the purpose of storming them before the enemy had recovered from the effects of the cannonading. the pirates, however, had been too long accustomed to desperate fighting of all sorts to be easily daunted, and the places of those who fell were quickly supplied by others who rushed forward to work their guns. before, however, they could load and fire them, the boats' crews, springing on shore, rushed forward and attacked them, hanger in hand, and quickly mastered the fort. the pirate ship now opened her fire upon the boats advancing up the harbour. this told with great effect, and again and again they were struck, but still undaunted, they pulled on. meantime the other boats had reached the bay, and their crews also quickly threw themselves on shore. the pirates did not perceive their intention till it was too late to prevent them, and now in steady order they were soon advancing up from the shore towards the fort, which was also greatly annoying the boats in their advance. taken in the rear, its defenders were quickly cut down, and now the party of english blue-jackets rushed up towards the pirate ship, but some of her guns being directed at them and others at the boats, no great loss was sustained by either. so quickly indeed did the party advance, that very few shot took effect among them. at length they got close up to the ship and opened a hot fire of musketry upon her killing and wounding the men at her guns. the boats were thus able to advance with much less molestation than before, and getting alongside, their crews with loud shouts dashed on board. the pirates fought desperately, but nothing could resist the courage of the english. the outlaws were seen jumping overboard on either side, and many were shot while attempting to swim on shore. no quarter was asked for by them. they had seldom given it themselves. still, however, they exhibited great courage and hardihood, fighting desperately to the last. meantime a party of them who had remained on shore, manning several boats, put off to the rescue of their comrades. thus before the english could prevent them, a considerable number had managed to escape from the ship, taking their way to a point up the harbour where they could land without being molested. the men-of-war's boats had been left with their boatkeepers in the bay. as soon as deane saw that he could reach them without running the risk of encountering the pirates, he determined to place elizabeth on board them. "if we stay here, we shall very probably fall in with the buccaneers, who are likely to fly to this rock in the hope of defending themselves. our way is now clear to the boats, and i will carry you there," he said, taking elizabeth's arm. "whatever you think best i am ready to do," she answered; and they hurried towards the bay. fortunately, the officer in charge of the boats belonged to deane's own ship, and recognising him, at once received elizabeth on board. "now i have placed you in safety, i will go back and endeavour to protect our kind friend mistress pearson," he said. elizabeth thanked him warmly, though she evidently at the same time dreaded losing sight of him. deane well knew there was no time to be lost, for the sound of the firing and the shouts and cries of the combatants told him that they were approaching the village. he hurried back therefore, taking a sheltered way among the trees. he had just reached the house, when he saw a number of buccaneers rushing towards the village, with the intention, he judged, of attempting to defend themselves behind the walls of the buildings. he found mistress pearson standing pale with terror at the sound of the guns which had reached her ears, not knowing which party had been successful. deane once more entreated her to fly. "if you remain, you will too probably lose your life in the struggle," he said. scarcely waiting for her answer, he had drawn her to the door, when he was seen by some of the pirates. "down with the villain! down with the traitor who has brought the enemy upon us!" they shouted. they raised their muskets, but mistress pearson standing between them and deane, prevented them from firing. some of the fiercest were, however, rushing forward with the intention of cutting him down, when the cry arose, "the enemy are upon us! defend yourselves, lads!" and they had to face about to receive the charge of the british sailors, who dashed out from among the trees towards them. several bullets whistled by deane's and the poor dame's ears. the fighting was desperate. the pirates defended themselves, knowing that they should receive no quarter; but in spite of their bravery they were cut down on all sides. deane had two or three times amid the clouds of smoke caught sight of pearson, who was leading on the men, shouting to them to fight boldly. more seamen arriving, led on by a superior officer, the pirates at length began to retreat. as they reached the house of their chief, however, they made a stand, some threw themselves inside and began to fire through the windows, and others got behind the walls where they were sheltered from the fire of their enemies. deane attempted to carry poor dame pearson to a place of shelter. paralysed with fear, she could scarcely move. he found himself, therefore, surrounded by the combatants, and in great risk every instant of being shot. the pirates here made a desperate stand; but the british seamen, again rushing on, cut down numbers with their hangers. just then the house burst out into flames, and, surrounded by smoke, deane could not be distinguished from the pirates who stood on the other side of him. two or three seamen were on the point of cutting him down, when their officer interposed his sword. "hold, lads!" he shouted; "as i live, there is my friend john deane, and protecting a lady too!" this timely exclamation saved deane's life. he had no time, however, to exchange greetings with the officer, whom he recognised as the captain of his own ship, as the latter had to lead on his men in pursuit of the flying pirates. the good dame now entreated him to look for her husband; but he remembered that after the commencement of the fight he had nowhere seen him. what had become of him he could not tell, and all he could do was to assure her he had not seen him fall. jack was anxious to convey her to the boats that she might be carried on board and placed in safety; but just as he was leaving the village captain davis returned, saying that all the pirates to be found had been killed or made prisoners. "i am thankful, indeed, to hear it, captain davis," said deane. "and now i will ask you to assist me in conveying this lady on board." "captain davis!" exclaimed mistress pearson. "let me see you, sir. that was my maiden name; and i had a brother who went to sea, from whom i have been parted for many long years. can you be richard davis, the youngest son of colonel davis of knowle park?" "yes, indeed, i am, madame," answered the captain, coming up to her. "i was one of a numerous family, all of whom, to the best of my belief, have long since been dead." "one of them is still alive," answered mistress pearson, "though a most unhappy woman. do you not remember your sister maria? come, let me gaze on your countenance, for my heart tells me that in you i shall find one of my brothers. yes, yes, i recognise your features! though i scarcely could expect you to know mine, so sadly changed as they must be." she had taken the captain's hand, and gazed into his face as she spoke. "no, i should not remember you," he answered; "but yet i remember the voice of the kind sister who was always ready to suffer for the sake of her wild brothers. yes, maria, i know that you are my sister, and i am thankful that i have been the means of rescuing you from this place. how you came here you must tell me by and by. and now i would wish you to go at once on board the frigate, under the charge of mr deane, while we make a further search round the island for any fugitives who may have concealed themselves." mistress pearson trembled as her brother spoke these words. "there is one for whom i would intercede," she said. "mr deane will tell you about him. he has ever been a kind husband to me, and never till lately did i suspect his occupations. if he has escaped death, let me entreat you not to hunt him down, and i feel sure that he will turn to some nobler course, where he will redeem the crimes he has committed." captain davis very wisely made no answer to this appeal; but directed deane, with a party of the seamen as a guard, to convey his new-found sister down to the boats, and to place her at once on board the frigate. he, meantime, having collected his men, commenced a further search for the pirates, some of whom, he was convinced, must have concealed themselves. the day was thus spent, though with no further success, and as night was coming on, a large party being placed on board the captured ships, the remainder returned in the boats to the vessels outside. the next day the search was continued; but no signs were discovered of the chief and other officers and men who were supposed to have escaped with him. the numerous prizes were carried out of the harbour, while all the huts, and storehouses, and other buildings were set on fire and destroyed, so that in a short time the whole island was reduced to that state of desolation in which the pirates had found it. while the rest of the squadron returned to jamaica, one vessel was left to cruise off the island, on the chance of pearson and his followers, should they have been concealed on it, attempting to make their escape. when jack arrived on board the "venus," he found the two young midshipmen, hawke and lovatt, and the old quarter-master burridge, who welcomed him warmly. they told him that they had managed to make their escape exactly as they had proposed while the buccaneers were carousing; and had, fortunately, fallen in with the squadron which had been despatched on purpose to try and discover their haunts. chapter thirty three. sir george hooke takes the spanish galleons in vigo bay. elizabeth's joy at seeing mistress pearson was very great; and she did her utmost to comfort her in her affliction, aided by captain davis and deane. as soon as they arrived at port royal, captain davis took a house for her on shore, where she and elizabeth went to reside till a plan for their future proceedings could be arranged. deane immediately wrote to monsieur de mertens, and told him of his recovery of his daughter, saying that she was still with her kind guardian, in whose company he hoped that he should, without delay, be able to escort her to england. in those days the climate of the west indies was as dangerous to europeans as at the present, and ships seldom remained long on the station without losing many of their officers and men. the honest old admiral benbow was still alive, although rapidly sinking from the effects of his wounds and his annoyance at the conduct of his officers in the action with the french. hearing of jack's conduct, he appointed him second lieutenant of the "ruby," in the place of an officer who had died. he was sorry to leave captain davis, especially as he expected now to have fewer opportunities of meeting elizabeth. he had, however, the consolation to know that captain davis expected immediately to be sent home, and proposed taking his sister and elizabeth with him. john deane met with no adventures worth recording during his next cruise. on the return of the "ruby" to port royal, our hero found that the "venus" had already sailed, and his ship was shortly afterwards also ordered home. on reaching england, he was immediately appointed to the "lennox," of seventy guns, commanded by his old friend captain jumper. she formed one of the squadron under admiral sir george rooke just on the point of sailing for the coast of spain. being unable to obtain leave of absence, he wrote to nottingham and norwich; but before he received answers to his letters his ship put to sea. sir george rooke had his flag flying on board the "royal sovereign." on board the fleet were a large number of troops, under the command of the duke of ormond. on the th august they anchored before the harbour of cadiz next day the duke of ormond sent in a trumpeter with a letter requiring the governor to surrender. the brave governor replied that as he had been appointed to the command of the place by his lawful sovereign, he would not yield it up as long as he could hold it. on the th the duke of ormond therefore landed with the troops, and in a few days took possession of the forts of saint katharine and saint mary. it being found difficult to approach cadiz while the spaniards were in possession of matagorda fort, an assault was ordered. the spaniards defended the place bravely, and it was found that the english force was far too small to hope for success. the troops were therefore re-embarked with the intention of returning home. soon after this, while the fleet was off the coast of portugal, captain hardy of the "pembroke" brought the intelligence that the galleons from the west indies had put into vigo bay, under convoy of a french squadron. sir george rooke immediately called a council of war, and it was resolved to make an attack at once on the enemy in the port of vigo. a strong gale of wind, however, drove the fleet to the north of cape finisterre, which prevented their getting off vigo before the th of october. the passage into the harbour was extremely narrow, and well defended by batteries on both sides. across the entrance a strong boom also was laid, at each end of which was moored with chains a seventy-four-gun ship. nearer the boom were laid, also moored, five ships, each carrying sixty to seventy guns, with their broadsides to the sea to defend the passage. the shoals and sand-banks, and the shallowness of the water within the harbour, made it dangerous for ships of the first and second rates to enter without a leading wind. notwithstanding the strong force opposed to them and the batteries on either side of the harbour, the english admirals resolved to attempt the capture of the galleons, and it being considered impossible for the larger ships to get up the harbour, they shifted their flags on board smaller vessels. a boat was then despatched up the harbour to gain intelligence respecting the disposition of the french and spanish ships. this being obtained, it was resolved that as the whole fleet could not together act upon the enemy's ships, but would from crowding the harbour impede each others' movements, fifteen english and ten dutch men-of-war, with all the fire-ships, should proceed in to destroy the enemy's fleet. the frigates and the bomb-vessels were directed to follow this detachment, and the larger ships were to proceed in afterwards, should their assistance be found necessary. it was arranged that the troops should at the same time land and attack the forts on either side of the harbour. vice-admiral hopson was ordered to lead the van, followed by vice-admiral vandergoes, sir george rooke commanded the centre division, and rear-admiral graydon brought up the rear. sir george rooke spent the greater part of the night going from ship to ship in his own boat to ascertain that each captain understood clearly the plan of the attack and the part he was to take in it. the following morning, the th of october, the squadron got under weigh and stood in for the harbour. great was the disappointment of all on board, when just as the van division had almost reached within gunshot of the batteries the wind died away, and it was necessary to anchor. a strong breeze, however, shortly afterwards sprang up, when vice-admiral hopson, in the "torbay," cutting his cable, crowded every sail his ship could carry and bore down upon the boom. the velocity gained by the ship gave her such power that the boom was snapped in two, and the "torbay" was instantly placed between the two french line-of-battle ships, the "bourbon" and "esperance." these two ships immediately opened a desperate fire upon the "torbay," which gallantly replied to them, though most of her men were falling, killed and wounded from the fierce fire to which she was exposed. scarcely had the breeze carried her into this post of danger, than it again fell, and the other ships of the squadron had considerable difficulty in following her. while they were endeavouring to get up the harbour, a fire-ship was seen descending directly for the "torbay." on it came. the destruction of the "torbay" seemed inevitable. now the flames burst out on either side from the fire-ship. the brave crew of the "torbay" instantly lowered their boats for the purpose of towing her off, but two of the boats were struck and swamped, and many of those in them were drowned before help could be rendered by those on board. just as the flames seemed about to catch the "torbay" they suddenly decreased, and were deadened. it seemed almost like a miracle; but when the men afterwards examined the fire-ship, she was found to be loaded with snuff, which immediately the fire reached it completely deadened the flames. while this event was taking place, vice-admiral vandergoes and the rest of the squadron made their way through the passage which the brave hopson had opened up, and directed their fire upon the "bourbon," which in a short time was captured. the "torbay," however, suffered very severely, losing a hundred and fifteen men killed and drowned, besides many wounded, including among the latter captain moody, her brave captain. while the troops were advancing, captain beckenham in the "association," of ninety guns, laid his broadside against a battery of seventeen guns on the left side of the harbour, and captain wyvill in the "barfleur" was sent to batter the fort on the other side, while there was a considerable firing from great guns and small-arms on both sides. the other ships defending the harbour were now attacked. they replied to the fire of the english with considerable vigour, though they in vain attempted to resist their advance. meantime the duke of ormond had landed in a sandy bay about two leagues distant from vigo. his grace, meeting with no opposition, ordered the grenadiers, under lord shannon and colonel pierce, to march directly to the forts which guarded the entrance to the harbour where the boom lay. this they executed with much courage and alacrity, and so furious was their attack, that they soon made themselves masters of this important fort. the duke himself, at the head of the rest of the forces, in the meantime marched on foot over craggy mountains to support the first detachment. as they advanced, they saw before them about eight thousand spaniards prepared apparently to contest their advance between the fort and the hills. these, however, only engaged in a little skirmishing at a distance, and as the grenadiers advanced they retired. the batteries having been taken, the enemy retreated into an old tower, or stone castle. from thence, for some time, they fired briskly upon the english. it was said that there were nearly twenty thousand french and spanish troops in and about vigo at that time; but, undaunted by the superiority of the enemy, the british troops pushed on. they plied the defenders of the tower so warmly with their grenadoes, and pelted them so sharply with their fusees that they soon made the place too hot for them. finding this, monsieur de sorel, the valiant captain of a french man-of-war, who commanded in the fort, having encouraged his men to make a daring push for their lives, opened the gates, intending to force his way through the english, sword in hand. the grenadiers, however, rushed immediately into the castle, made themselves masters of it, and took nearly three hundred french seamen and fifty spaniards, with their officers, prisoners at discretion. a small party of the enemy endeavoured to make their escape through the water, but were stopped by a detachment of the dutch. as soon as this was done, the boats of the squadron pushed up the harbour to take possession of the galleons. the french admiral, however, finding that all hope of defending the place was gone, gave orders for setting the shipping on fire. before these orders could be executed, a considerable number of the ships were taken possession of by the boats. besides seventeen ships, carrying between them nine hundred and sixty guns, destroyed or captured by the english and dutch, three spanish men-of-war, carrying a hundred and seventy-eight guns, were destroyed, and fifteen galleons were found there. four of them were taken by the english, five by the dutch, and four destroyed. the brave admirals rooke, hopson, and vandergoes, were still furiously attacking the french ships placed across the harbour behind the boom. suddenly flames were seen to burst forth from the french admiral's ship. this was soon discovered to be done on purpose, for immediately afterwards they burst forth from the other french ships, from which boats were at the same time seen putting off towards the shore. the french admiral, indeed, finding that the forts were in the hands of his victorious enemies, his fire-ship spent in vain, the "bourbon" captured, the boom cut, and the confederate fleet pouring in upon him, so that the battle was lost, hoped by burning his ships to prevent their falling into their hands. the order he issued, however, was not punctually obeyed, in consequence of the haste of the french to get on shore. immediately this was perceived, the boats of the squadron were ordered in to take possession of the galleons. john deane found himself in one of the leading boats. onward they dashed, amid the burning ships. on one side the "torbay" lay with her fore-top-mast shot away, her sails burnt and scorched, her fore-yard burnt to a coal, and her larboard shrouds, fore and aft, burned to the deadeyes, so that indeed it appeared surprising that she had not been burned altogether. the leading boats dashed alongside some of the largest ships, which were so imperfectly set on fire that the confederates were enabled to extinguish the flames before they had spread far. they then pulled, as fast as they could bend to their oars, up the harbour towards the galleons which lay at the farther end. every man had heard of the vast amount of wealth reputed to be on board these vessels, and all were eager to capture them, therefore, before they were destroyed by the enemy. already flames were bursting out from some of them, and the french and spanish boats were alongside, preparing for their destruction. the dutch and english joined each other in the race. they rowed past the town, which the british troops, having captured the forts, were already entering. now the boats got alongside the long-looked-for galleons. already some were in flames, which had extended too far to allow of their being extinguished, but many others were saved. so rapid had been the movements of the allies, that the spaniards had not had time to remove the cargoes of several of the galleons. these were in truth real prizes, and the wealth found on board them stimulated the crews of the boats to make desperate attempts to save the rest. several, however, just as the flotilla approached them, went down at their anchors, but altogether the larger number were saved. great was the disappointment of the allies when they found that the spaniards had landed the larger portion of the money with which the galleons had been freighted. seldom, however, has a naval expedition been more judiciously planned and more completely carried out. this glorious and memorable victory, too, was obtained with a very inconsiderable loss on the side of the british; for, with the exception of the loss on board vice-admiral hopson's ship, as already described, very few seamen were either killed or wounded, nor did the ships receive more than a slight damage. of the land forces, two lieutenants and about forty rank and file were killed, and five officers and about thirty men wounded. of the french, about four hundred officers and men were taken prisoners, among whom was the spanish admiral don joseph checon, several french captains, and other officers of note. the result of this victory was a vast booty, both of plate and other things, the value of which cannot well be computed. the fleet, indeed, was the richest that had ever come from the west indies to europe. the silver and gold was computed to amount to twenty millions of eight, of which fourteen millions had been taken out of the galleons and secured by the enemy before the attack. the rest was either taken or left in the galleons that were burned and sunk. the goods were valued also at twenty millions of pieces of eight, one fourth part of which was saved by the spaniards, nearly two parts destroyed, and the other fourth taken by the confederates. besides the property already mentioned, there was a great deal of plate and goods on board belonging to private persons, most of which was taken or lost. the prize-money which thus fell to john deane's share was very considerable, and it induced him to begin setting up a castle in the air, which he hoped to commence in a more substantial manner on his return to england, as he expected by the time he should get there to find elizabeth restored to her parents, as he had left with her and captain davis full directions by which they could be found. one thing most remarkable with regard to this victory, was not only the courage and sagacity of sir george rooke and the other admirals, but their readiness to sacrifice themselves and to risk their safety to ensure the success of the undertaking. this was shown by the way in which they left their large ships and placed themselves on board the smaller ones, as also by their leading the way into the midst of the enemy, strongly posted as they were. great credit was also due to the land forces, for the mode in which they co-operated with the navy. scarcely had the action concluded, when sir cloudesley shovel with a large squadron hove in sight. the duke of ormond proposed to keep possession of vigo for don carlos, considering it a safe place for the army to take up their quarters in, having a naval force to assist them. sir george rooke, however, thought that it was necessary to return home for want of stores and provisions. he left, therefore, sir cloudesley shovel, to whom was entrusted the task of fitting out the prizes. he succeeded also in rescuing a large portion of treasure from the sunken galleons, and he recovered the "dartmouth," an english fifty-gun ship which had been captured in the previous war. he also took out of some of the french ships lying aground partially destroyed, fifty brass guns and about sixty from the shore, and before sailing from the port he completed the destruction of every ship that he could not bring away. the importance of this success was very great, as not only did the spaniards suffer a heavy loss, but the naval power of france was considerably crippled by it, nor indeed did she during the war recover from its effects. jack remained with the fleet under sir cloudesley shovel. all hands were busily employed in fitting out the captured ships and preparing them for sea. at length, in a week, all those fit for sea were got ready, when the rest, amounting to a considerable number, were set on fire, and the squadron, as the flames bursting fiercely forth sent them to the bottom, sailed away down the harbour. on the th of october sir cloudesley got clear of vigo, but it proving calm, he anchored in the channel in the port of bayonne, where, with a flag of truce, he sent several prisoners on shore, receiving some english who had been captured by the spaniards. the next day he got under sail again, with the intention of going through the north channel, but the wind taking him short, he was obliged to drop anchor. here a galleon, a prize to the "monmouth," struck upon a sunken rock. immediately the water rushed into her, and before it could be pumped out she foundered. fortunately several frigates were on each side of her, and their boats putting off, all her crew were saved, with the exception of two who were below. the same day the fleet was joined by the "dragon," a fifty-gun ship lately commanded by captain holyman. one of the officers came on board and gave an account of an engagement she had just had with a french man-of-war of seventy guns. in spite of the vast superiority of the enemy, captain holyman defended his ship with the greatest resolution. his crew worked their guns in a way british seamen have ever known how to do when alongside an enemy. at length the captain was killed, when his first lieutenant, fotherby, continued the defence, urging his men not to strike as long as they had a cartridge remaining and a shot in the locker. at length, although themselves greatly crippled, they had the satisfaction of seeing the enemy brace up her yards and stand away. loud cheers burst from their throats, though they at first believed she had merely hauled off to repair damages. however she continued standing away, and ultimately her topsails disappeared below the horizon. besides her brave captain, the "dragon" lost twenty-five of her crew killed, and many more wounded. the fleet on their passage home encountered very bad weather. one of the ships, the "nassau," had, in spite of the gale, the good fortune to make a rich prize. standing in towards the fleet, however, the sea ran so high that the prize foundered. the gale continued to increase, and the whole squadron was thus separated, every ship shifting for herself. at length all got into the downs. chapter thirty four. hurricane in the british channel--sir george rooke takes gibraltar-- sea-fight off malaga. on reaching england once more our hero had great hopes of being able to get on shore to visit his own family, as well as to make inquiries about elizabeth, of whose arrival he had not yet heard. he had actually obtained leave to go on shore, and was proposing to set off the following day, when he experienced the truth of the old saying, "there is many a slip between the cup and the lip." on the th of november, while his ship lay in the downs--the weather having hitherto been fine--about eleven o'clock, the wind began to blow most violently from the west south west. john deane was the officer on watch. he had been walking the deck for some time, looking out on either side--for those were days when it was necessary for seamen to have their eyes about them--when he observed in the quarter from whence the wind was coming, bright flashes of lightning. soon the sea appeared through the gloom covered with a sheet of foam. every instant the lightning increased in vividness, and now loud roars of thunder reverberated through the sky. clouds came rushing on in vast masses. "call the captain!" said deane to the midshipmen of the watch. "we are going to have a night of it, and he's not the man to remain in his bed at such a time. all hands on deck!" he shouted immediately afterwards. the crew came rushing up from below with a speed which would have astonished any one not knowing how quickly sailors can put on their clothes, many of them, indeed, bringing them up in their hands and dressing on their way. "strike topgallant-masts!" he cried out. "mr grummit, range another cable for the best bower-anchor. we shall want every anchor out to-night." scarcely had these judicious orders been given, when the captain himself came on deck and took the command, next ordering the top-sail-yards to be lowered and the top-masts to be housed. now, with a loud roar, the gale burst upon the fleet, which lay at anchor in that exposed situation. the sea rising rapidly, torn up by the furious tempest, caused the ships to pitch and roll in a fearful manner, as if it would wrench them from their anchors and drive them against the dangerous goodwin sands. as jack looked out he could see, indeed, some of the ships torn away from their anchors, apparently, and driven hopelessly before the gale. over others the sea was breaking furiously, sending the spray high above them, and seeming every moment about to carry them to the bottom. those who had been in many a battle, and gone through many a storm, felt their hearts, for the first time perhaps, sinking with fear, as the thunder crashed above their heads and the lightning flashed about the masts, while the foaming seas dashed up and round them on every side. the position of the "lennox" was indeed perilous in the extreme, and little comfort could her crew gain by watching the fate of others. a large ship lay within sight--she was the "mary"--with rear-admiral beaumont's flag flying on board. sea after sea came dashing and breaking over her. now those whose eyes were turned in that direction saw that she began to move. "she is driving! she is driving!" exclaimed several. an instant afterwards she was seen carried before the gale, and ere many minutes had passed was thrown helplessly upon the goodwins. scarcely had she touched the fatal sands when her masts, bending like willow-wands, went by the board. the seas leaped triumphantly over her, and in the short time of one hour, scarce a timber of the stout ship hung together, while those who looked on knew well what must be the fate of all her brave crew. not a man could be expected to live in that foaming sea. the same fate might any moment be the lot of those on board the "lennox." thus the whole night was passed, no one knowing whether the next hour would not be their last. for a long time the gale gave no signs of abating. the thunder roared as loudly as ever, and the lightning flashed round their heads. sometimes, as the vivid lightning enabled them to pierce the otherwise surrounding gloom, they saw far off some noble ship torn from her anchors, or the masts of another disappearing beneath the waves. when morning broke at length, fearful was the scene of destruction which met their gaze. here and there fragments of wreck could be distinguished on the goodwins, while many other ships which had escaped the hurricane presented a shattered and forlorn appearance. by seven o'clock providentially the wind began to fall, and in a short time it ceased almost as rapidly as it had commenced. sad was the number of ships which had foundered. among those in the downs was the "northumberland," not one of her company having escaped. the "stirling castle" had also gone down, seventy of her men only having got on shore in their boats or on pieces of the wreck. of admiral beaumont's ship, one man alone was saved on a piece of wreck, having been tossed about all night till at length he was cast on shore. the "mortar" bomb-vessel had all her company lost. the number of sailors lost on the goodwin sands during that fatal night, and on all parts of the coast, many more being cast away in those few hours of the gale, amounted to fifteen hundred and nineteen. thirteen men-of-war were totally wrecked, besides many others greatly injured. the newly-erected eddystone lighthouse was also blown down and entirely destroyed, the unfortunate men who had charge of it losing their lives. several ships were forced from their anchors: among them was the "revenge," which drove over to the coast of holland, where she was nearly cast away. happily, however, sail was got on her and she arrived safely in the river medway. another ship, the "dorset," after striking three times, drove a fortnight to sea, where she was knocking about in an almost helpless state, till she was enabled to rig jury-masts and thus get safe back to the nore. in london the accidents which happened were numerous, and a large amount of property was destroyed. the gale blew down a multitude of chimneys, and even whole buildings; lifted the tops of houses, tore up a number of trees in saint james's park, in the inns of court, moorfields, and at other places, by the roots, and broke off others in the middle. several people were killed in their beds, among them dr kidder, bishop of bath and wells, with his wife. a great number of vessels, barges, and boats were sunk in the river thames, and the arches of london bridge were stopped with the wrecks of them. on the th of december the queen published a proclamation for a general fast, which, on wednesday, th january following, was kept with great strictness. the order in council also appeared in the _gazette_ for an advance of wages to the families of those officers and seamen who had perished in the storm, in the same manner as if they had been killed in battle. the house of commons also addressed her majesty upon this melancholy occasion, desiring her to give directions for repairing this loss, and to build such capital ships as she should think fit, and promising to make good the expense at their next meeting. thus, great as was the loss, the british navy was restored to that state of efficiency which it is most important that it should ever maintain. john deane had a great disappointment in not being able, after all, to leave his ship. as soon as the damages she received in the storm were repaired, she was ordered to rejoin the fleet under sir george rooke. that admiral had been directed to convey the arch-duke charles of austria to lisbon. before the fleet had reached finisterre another violent storm arose, which dispersed the ships and drove them back into the channel. the tempestuous weather prevented the admiral from sailing before the th of february, and on the th of the same month he arrived at lisbon. a short historical account is now necessary, that the cause of the long war in which england was engaged may be understood. the king of spain, who died in , declared by his will, real or pretended, the duke of anjou, grandson to louis the fourteenth, king of the whole spanish monarchy. the spaniards, finding themselves threatened with war by the emperor of germany, and by england, in conjunction with the united provinces, delivered themselves up into the hands of france. in consequence, both the spanish netherlands and the duchy of milan received french garrisons, and the french fleet came to cadiz. a squadron was also sent to the west indies, so that the whole spanish empire fell into the hands of the french. the duke of burgundy then having no children, the king of spain was likely to succeed to the crown of france, and thus the world saw that a new universal monarchy might possibly arise out of this conjunction. hence arose the war of succession in spain. with the object above mentioned of placing the duke of anjou on the throne of spain, louis had sacrificed his charming and clever niece, the granddaughter of our king charles the first and henrietta maria to an imbecile husband, the thought of whom was hateful to her, and he also had engaged in a variety of other intrigues with the same object. the spaniards in general gave the preference to the arch-duke charles, or don carlos, who was the legitimate heir of the spanish monarchy, second son of the emperor of austria. the object of louis was first to secure his own authority over the dutch; secondly, to injure the trade of england, and also of holland; and, thirdly, to overthrow protestantism in all the countries under his influence. the object of william and the british government, on the other hand, was--first, to exclude louis from the netherlands and west indies; secondly, to prevent the union of france and spain in the person of the duke of anjou or his posterity; and, thirdly, to maintain the protestant religion wherever it was established, including the vaudois provinces. with these objects, william had exerted his utmost energies to form the grand alliance of england, austria, and the states-general against france. to these were afterwards added some of the italian states and portugal. the war of succession lasted, from first to last, fifteen years. it ended by the accession of the arch-duke don carlos to the imperial throne of germany, and philip the fifth, duke of anjou, was then acknowledged by all european sovereigns king of spain, on the condition of renouncing all claim to the throne of france for himself and his descendants. the war had now continued for about two years. the chief exploit which had hitherto been performed was the capture of the galleons in the harbour of vigo, which has already been described. the arch-duke, having landed at lisbon, marched into spain with a considerable body of troops, but was not able to make any progress for a considerable time. sir george rooke, with the fleet, proceeded into the mediterranean and made an attack on the important, town of barcelona. the fleet at length anchored in the roads of tetuan, when, on the th of july, sir george rooke called a council of war, and placed before the members a plan he had devised for attacking the fortress of gibraltar. strong as it was, he believed that there was a prospect of capturing it, having received information that the garrison at that time was but small. it was a place, also, likely to prove of infinite importance during the war then going on, and it was hoped that the attacking this fortress would give a lustre to queen anne's armies, and possibly induce the spaniards to favour the cause of king charles. as no time was to be lost, the fleet sailed in consequence of this resolution for gibraltar, and, prepared for battle, took up a position in the bay on the st of july. as the british gazed up on the lofty rock surmounted by cannon, they might well have felt that it would require all their bravery and hardihood to conquer the place. "it must be ours!" exclaimed john deane, as he looked up at it while he walked the quarter-deck. "it shall be!" observed captain jumper, who overheard him. "deane, you shall accompany me on shore; and i hope before the world is much older, you and i shall find ourselves inside those walls." "or buried under them," said deane. "for my part, however, i would as lief be on the top of them." meantime the marines, english and dutch, to the number of eighteen hundred, were landed on the isthmus by which the rock is joined to the mainland, to cut off all communication between the town and the continent. it was only of late that this fine body of men had been organised and received the name of marines, their duty being especially to serve on board ships. they were under command of the prince of hesse. his highness, having taken post on the isthmus, summoned the governor to surrender, but that brave officer returned an answer, that he would defend the place to the last. on the nd, the admiral, at break of day, gave orders that the ships which had been appointed to cannonade the town, under the command of rear-admiral byng and rear-admiral vanderdosen, as also those which were to batter the south mole head, commanded by captain hicks of the "weymouth," should arrange themselves accordingly. the wind, however, blowing contrary, they could not get into their places till the day was well-nigh spent. in the meantime, to amuse the enemy, captain whitaker was sent in with some boats, and a french privateer of twelve guns was burned at the old mole. on the rd, soon after break of day, the ships being all placed in their stations, the admiral gave the signal for beginning the cannonade; and now the guns opened with a furious fire. the shot, like hail, flew against the spanish batteries. the british seamen firing as fast as they could load, in five or six hours upwards of fifteen thousand shot were calculated to have been discharged against the town, and the enemy were driven from their guns, especially at the south mole head. seeing this, the admiral sent an order to captain whitaker to attack the town with all the boats of the fleet. in the meantime, however, captain jumper, who saw what was necessary to be done, and captain hicks, who both lay next the mole, had pushed on shore with their pinnaces and some other boats before the rest could come up. john deane and two other lieutenants accompanied their captain. they, rushing forward as british seamen always will do when led by their officers, took possession of the fort with great bravery, but not without sustaining a considerable loss. as they, with swords and pistols in their hands, were rushing on, suddenly a fearful noise was heard. the earth seemed to lift up beneath their feet, and forty men and two lieutenants were carried up, fearfully burned and shattered. the survivors, among whom was john deane, undaunted by this disaster, fought their way on and took possession of the grand platform, where they remained until reinforced by a body of seamen who had come in the boats under captain whitaker. the whole body then advanced and took a redoubt half-way between the mole and the town, possessing themselves also of many of the enemy's cannon. the admiral then sent in a letter to the governor, and at the same time a message to the prince of hesse, directing him to send a peremptory summons, which his highness accordingly did. while this was taking place, john deane, who had previously surveyed the rock, got leave from captain juniper to lead a body of men up a part of the cliff which the spaniards had never thought it possible any human beings could climb. deane, however, had often scrambled over the nearly perpendicular rock on which nottingham castle stands, and up its old rugged towers which yet remain. he had no lack of volunteers, with two or three midshipmen, ready to accompany him. stealing away unperceived by the enemy, they got to the foot of the cliff. with their pistols in their belts and swords between their teeth they commenced the perilous ascent. many who saw them thought they would never succeed, but they had resolved to persevere. slowly but surely they proceeded up, hanging on by each craggy projection, aided by the shrubs which here and there grew from between the crevices of the rock. at length, when one after the other they reached the summit, they saw before them a chapel filled with women, with a vast number of others coming in and going out of it. these poor creatures had come out of the town, prompted by their superstitious notions, to implore the protection of the virgin, to whom the chapel was dedicated. jack and his followers, springing forward, threw themselves between the chapel and the road which led to the town. by gestures more than by words, he endeavoured to persuade the frightened matrons and damsels that he and his followers would do them no harm. with difficulty, however, he could make them understand this, though he signified by signs that they were all to get inside the chapel again. their fears were somewhat overcome when they found that no insult was offered to any of them. he allowed, however, one of them to go back into the town to inform the governor that they had fallen into the hands of the english. the governor, finding that the forts were in possession of the english and that a large number of women had also fallen into their hands, consented to agree to the terms proposed by admiral rooke. hostages were accordingly exchanged, and the capitulation being concluded, the prince of hesse marched into the town in the evening and took possession of the land and north mole gates and the outworks. the spanish troops were allowed to march out with all the honours of war, and provisions for a six days' march. such inhabitants and soldiers who were willing to take an oath of fidelity to don carlos the third were allowed to remain. the spaniards were also to discover all their magazines of powder and other ammunition or provision and arms in the city. all subjects of the french king were, however, excluded from any part of the terms of this capitulation. the town was found to be extremely strong, with a hundred guns mounted facing the sea and the narrow pass towards the land. it was well supplied with ammunition, but the garrison consisted of only a hundred and fifty men. however, in the opinion of officers who examined the works, fifty men might have defended them against thousands, so it was acknowledged that the attack made by the seamen was brave almost beyond example. the british lost sixty men killed, including two lieutenants and one master, and two hundred and sixteen wounded, including one captain, seven lieutenants, and a boatswain. it is but justice to the naval part of the expedition to remark that as this design was contrived by the admiral, so it was executed entirely by the seamen, and therefore the whole honour of it was due to them. nothing, indeed, could have enabled the seamen to take the place but the cannonading of it in a way which obliged the spaniards to quit their posts. after leaving as many men as could be spared to garrison the place, under the command of the prince of hesse, the fleet sailed for tetuan, in order to take in wood and water. immediately the fleet had watered, it stood out again towards gibraltar, when on the lath of august about noon, the enemy's fleet and galleys were discovered to the westward, near cape malaga, going free. the allied fleet accordingly bore after them in a line of battle. on the morning of the th of august they were within three leagues of the french, and then brought to, with their heads to the south, the wind being east, and lay in a posture to receive them. in the english line, sir george rooke, with rear-admirals byng and dilkes, were in the centre. sir cloudesley shovel and sir john leake led the van, and vice-admiral calemburg and rear-admiral vanderdosen commanded the ships in the rear. the english fleet consisted of forty-five ships of the line, and eighteen smaller vessels. the dutch had only twelve ships of the line, while the french fleet consisted of fifty ships of the line, eight frigates, and eleven smaller vessels, the line-of-battle ships alone carrying guns, while the english ships together only carried guns, and the dutch ships about guns. though the french endeavoured at first to avoid the battle, yet they had the advantage over the combined fleet, as they were superior in force, and all their ships were clean and fully manned. they had also the advantage of fighting on the coast, and near a harbour of their ally, and had the benefit of a large number of galleys. the confederates, on the contrary, besides being away from any friendly port, were thinly manned, and had a great deficiency of stores and provisions, while the foulness of their ships was greatly to their prejudice in the day of battle. notwithstanding this they were eager for the engagement. the action which was about to commence was likely to prove of far more importance than any in which deane had hitherto engaged, and his heart beat high as he saw the ships of england bear down upon the enemy. his own ship the "lennox" was among those under the command of the brave admiral sir cloudesley shovel. at about o'clock, when nearly half-gunshot from the enemy, the french set all their sails at once, and seemed to intend to stretch ahead and weather the english fleet. admiral shovel, on discovering the enemy's intention, hauled his wind, and sir george rooke, seeing what would be the consequence if the van was intercepted, bore down upon the enemy with the rest of the confederate fleet, and put out the signal for a fight, which was immediately begun by admiral shovel. the battle raged with great fury on both sides till about two in the afternoon, when the enemy's van gave way. the dutch engaged the enemy with the greatest courage and alacrity, and being provided with ammunition, continued firing something later than the rest, but night coming on put a stop to the engagement. several of the french ships were compelled to quit the fight, long before it was over, to repair damages, some of them to stop leaks which would otherwise have caused them to founder. the french main body being very strong, and several ships of the admiral's and rear-admirals byng and dilke's divisions being also forced to go out of the line for want of shot, the battle fell very heavily on the admiral's own ship the "saint george," as also on the "shrewsbury." this being observed by sir cloudesley shovel, he, like a good and valiant officer, immediately backed astern and endeavoured to reinforce the admiral. this act of valour and of good seamanship had two useful effects. first it drew several of the enemy's ships from the british centre, which was so hard pressed by a great superiority of strength and numbers, and secondly it drove them at length out of the line, for after they had felt the effects of the guns of others of the ships of sir cloudesley shovel's division, which were astern of him, they considered it more prudent not to advance along his broadside. being clean and better sailers, they set their split-sails, and with their boats ahead, towed away from him, without giving him the opportunity of exchanging a single broadside with them. there can be no doubt that the british would have gained a complete victory had they not have been in want of shot. this had been expended by the vast number of guns fired at gibraltar, though every ship had been furnished with twenty-five rounds the day before the battle, which would have been sufficient had they got as near the enemy as the admiral intended. as it was, every ship had expended her ammunition before night. in the centre of the line a furious action was going on. the "serieux," a ship in the french admiral's division commanded by monsieur champmelin, however, boarded the "monk," an english ship commanded by captain mills. he, with great activity and courage, every time cleared the deck of the enemy, and made them at last bear away. the same french commander had his ship afterwards so disabled that he was obliged with others to quit the line. captain jumper also added laurels to those he had already gained, by engaging with his single ship three of the enemy's; and on this occasion, as he had done at gibraltar, john deane especially distinguished himself. captain jumper shook him by the hand, and thanking him for the aid he had afforded, promised him that he would not rest till he had recommended him for promotion to the admiral. about seven in the evening, one of the french admiral's seconds advanced out of the line, and began a closer engagement with the "saint george," commanded by captain jennings; but, although the "saint george" had already suffered much, the french ship met with such rough treatment that she had great difficulty in rejoining the line, after the loss of both her captains and many of her men. among the actions of other brave commanders, that of the gallant earl of dursley, commander of the "boyne," an eighty-gun ship, must be mentioned. he was but twenty-three years of age, yet he gave numerous instances of his undaunted courage, steady resolution, and prudent conduct. the battle ended at the close of the day, when the enemy escaped with the help of their galleys to leeward. in the night the wind shifted to the north, and in the morning to the west, which placed the enemy on the weather side of the confederates. their fleet lay by all day within three leagues of the french. at night the latter stood away to the northward. the english lost men killed, and wounded. the loss of the french was a rear-admiral, five captains, and a number of other officers killed with wounded, and upwards of men killed or wounded. sir cloudesley shovel afterwards declared that this engagement was the most desperate that had ever taken place between two fleets in his time. scarcely a ship escaped without being obliged to shift one of her masts, and many of them all. chapter thirty five. home again--another bitter disappointment. soon after the battle which has been described the fleet once more returned to england. the admirals and many of the captains were presented to queen anne, who complimented them on the actions in which they had been engaged. among the officers who received promotion was john deane, who was raised to the rank of captain. at length, as he was now without a ship, he was able to set forward to pay his long-promised visit to his home. in those days the post was very irregular on shore, and sailors often went many years without receiving letters from home. such had been john deane's case, and he still remained in ignorance of all the events which had taken place among those he loved since his departure. one thing had troubled him greatly; it was at not hearing of the arrival of elizabeth and her faithful guardian, mistress pearson. he had gained a large amount of prize-money, which the agent at portsmouth, where he landed, promised to remit to him at nottingham. he took with him only a sum sufficient for his journey and to supply his wants while he expected to remain on shore. he met with no adventure during his journey. the number of loose characters who had infested the roads in the early days of king william's reign, had been drawn away to fight the battles of their country, either under marlborough or at sea, and few highwaymen were to be met with in any part of the country. deane would gladly have turned aside to go to norwich; but it was greatly out of his way, and he felt that it was his duty in the first place to visit his own father and mother. he could scarcely restrain his eagerness as he passed over the trent bridge once more, and took his way through the well-known streets which led to the market-place. it was early in the day, but no one knew him in his richly-laced coat, his countenance well bronzed by sun and wind, and his whiskers and beard of no mean growth. at length he stopped before the door of the old house and threw himself from his horse, calling to a boy passing at the moment to hold it. not till then did it occur to him how long he had been absent, and what great changes might have taken place. his heart sank, for he expected almost to see his mother hurrying to the door, with his old father's fine countenance peering behind her; but the door remained closed, and he had to knock more than once before it was opened. his voice trembled as he inquired of the serving-damsel who opened the door whether mr and mistress deane were at home. "ay," was the answer, "they are in the parlour at the back of the house." he pushed past her and hurried on. the old gentleman and lady rose from their seats as he threw open the door, at first not knowing him. "to what cause do we owe the honour of this visit, sir?" said old mr deane, taking jack to be an intruder, or one of the officers quartered in the town engaged in a frolic. "he is our son--our son jack!" exclaimed mistress deane, who, knowing him at a second glance, threw her arms round his neck. old mr deane hurried forward, and grasping his hand, almost wrung it off. then his mother bestowed her kisses on his bronzed cheeks. "yes, it's jack--i know him now!" exclaimed the old gentleman, drawing back a pace, that he might look at him from head to foot. "well, thou art grown into a brave lad, jack," he said, looking at him affectionately. and now jack was seated between the two old people, who scarcely would allow him to ask any questions, so eager were they to hear his adventures. it was some time, therefore, before he could learn what had become of the rest of the family. "and how is sister polly and her husband, tom dovedale? it seems an age since the day they were spliced." "they live six doors off, and are wonderfully flourishing, for from morning to night they do little else than `laugh and grow fat,'" was the answer. "and jasper, where is he?" was the next question. "the father of two fine cherubs, and alethea as beautiful and cheerful as ever. he is a fortunate fellow, your brother jasper. cousin nat now lives with him, and has given him up all his business, so that jasper is the leading physician in the town, and, on my word, he bears his honours bravely, and is in no way behind cousin nat in the estimation of the townspeople and neighbourhood. at first i feared that jasper and alethea would not have got on very smoothly together. she, as you remember, was a warm jacobite, as was her poor father, but jasper argued the matter so well with her, that he soon brought her over, and she became as loyal a subject of king william as any to be found within the realm. had it not been, indeed, for her marriage to jasper, it would have gone hard with her, for poor harwood was so implicated in the plot against king william, that his property would have been confiscated. cousin nat and other friends, however, so earnestly petitioned the government, that it was preserved for the sake of his daughter, and jasper, after poor harwood's death, became the squire of harwood grange." "and have you heard from kate and dainsforth, mother?" asked jack. he had another question which he was eager to ask, but he wished first to inquire about his own family. "oh, yes! they're flourishing in their new plantation; and glowing are the accounts which they send us of the country. it must be a wonderful place, and although the free government we now enjoy makes fewer people wish to go over there, yet many are tempted, from time to time, from the accounts they receive from their friends settled there." jack's next inquiry was about mr gournay at norwich. he could only learn that a foreign lady and gentleman were residing at his house, but not a word about elizabeth could they tell him. he concluded that they alluded to monsieur and madame de mertens, but they were not aware even that they had a daughter, nor could they give him any account of the arrival of their supposed daughter. jack's visit to jasper and alethea and to cousin nat must be briefly passed over. having spent a few days at nottingham he became eager to visit norwich. he found will brinsmead, who, in spite of his age, continued his journeys through the country, about to set off in that direction. will begged that he would give him the honour of his company, but jack laughingly assured him, that though he should have great delight in talking over old days, his eagerness to reach norwich would not allow him to jog along behind the cattle. he, however, rode a few miles with him, when just as the old man was beginning one of his lectures on the "pilgrim's progress," jack, shaking him warmly by the hand, pushed on his steed in advance of the herd. on making himself known to mr gournay, he was received in the kindest way by him and his wife; but jack's astonishment and disappointment was very great when he found that they had not received the accounts he had sent home of his discovery of elizabeth, and of her proposed return with mistress pearson, under charge of captain davis, to england. monsieur and madame de mertens were residing, he found, in a small house in norwich, and they also had not received either his letter or one from captain davis. his heart sank within him. what was he now to do? the more he had of late thought of elizabeth, the more completely he found that she had entwined herself round his heart, and he had anticipated the delight of meeting her again and receiving her as his bride from the hands of her parents. all these delightful visions had now vanished. monsieur and madame de mertens received him with every expression of regard and affection. "i can never forget the important service you rendered me in restoring to me my husband," said madame de mertens, "and i feel sure that, had it been in your power, you would have brought back to me my child. even now i have a hope that you may possibly restore her to me." jack spent some time with his friends, and finally came to the resolution of returning to the west indies, in order to make inquiries about elizabeth and dame pearson. "i will first go to the admiralty and ascertain where the `venus' frigate now is, and then i will communicate with captain davis," said deane. "should he be unable to give me the information i desire, i will immediately set off on my projected voyage." captain deane had been invited to return to mr gournay's to supper. on entering the house, the excellent quaker met him with a letter in his hand. "i have just received this," he said, "from your brother-in-law giles dainsforth. he mentions a curious circumstance which occurred some time ago, which may tend to solve the mystery concerning the fate of elizabeth de mertens and her friend. he writes me word that information had been received in the plantation of the wreck of a ship on an island off the american coast, with several passengers, among whom were said to be some ladies. a small boat which had left the island, had, after a long voyage, the people undergoing great hardships, reached the mainland. they had come in the hopes of obtaining relief for those left behind. as soon as the information was received, a meeting of the inhabitants of philadelphia was held, and it was resolved to send out a vessel for the rescue of the sufferers. unfortunately, friend giles does not mention the name of the vessel or the passengers, except casually he refers to the loss of a queen's ship." this was indeed important information. it raised captain deane's hopes of the possibility of discovering elizabeth; at the same time he was well aware that there were many probabilities of the wreck being that of some other vessel. "friend dainsforth is very anxious that we should send out a vessel with a cargo of which he may dispose. it is a business in which i myself am not willing to enter," observed mr gournay; "but thou mayest find friends in nottingham who will be more ready to engage in the speculation, and being thyself a seaman of experience, thou mightest take the command of it. it will be far better for thee than following the occupation of fighting, in which thou hast been engaged." the plan thus suggested by mr gournay was much in accordance with jack's taste. he, however, made up his mind in the first instance to go to london, that he might make inquiries as to the fate of the "venus." if she had left the west indies, and had not since been heard of, or if it was supposed that she had been cast away, he would then have very little doubt of her being the ship of which giles dainsforth spoke; but if, on the contrary, she had returned to england, or been sent to some other station, he would then only suppose that the wreck alluded to in the letter must be that of another ship, and thus proceeding to pennsylvania would in no way forward the great object he had in view. mr gournay having fully agreed with him in the wisdom of his plans, after he had bidden farewell to monsieur and madame de mertens, he set off on his visit to london. jack felt very differently from what he did before on his first visit to the metropolis in company with long sam. he was now a captain in the navy, with an honourable name, and money in his pocket. on going to the admiralty, however, he could gain no satisfactory information regarding the "venus" or captain davis. one of the clerks told him that he believed she was still in the west indies. another that she had been captured by the enemy. a third, of whom in his despair he made further inquiries, told him that she had been sunk; and another, that she was on her passage home. he had just left the office, and was taking his way disconsolately along the street, when he met an old shipmate. "my dear fellow," he exclaimed, "you did not employ a golden key, i suspect, to unlock the mystery! just go back with a doubloon in your band, and cross the palm of master dick greedifist, and you will soon find that he knows more about the matter than you supposed." jack, though indignant that such a proceeding should be necessary, did as he was advised. "oh, certainly, captain deane!" answered dick. "it was about the `venus' you were inquiring. oh, ah, let me see! she was ordered home in , and immediately afterwards the order was countermanded and she remained on the station for some time longer. since then, she was sent to visit the plantations on the mainland of north america; and, in consequence of her not having been heard of for some time, it is feared that she must have met with some disaster. as soon as she had executed her mission she was to return home; and i know that some months ago she was expected." this was all the information jack required. he did not tell master greedifist the opinion he had formed of him, but, hastening out of the office, took his way to his inn. jack as has been seen was a man of action. he took care of the minutes, well knowing that the hours would take care of themselves. as soon as he had sufficiently fortified the inner man, he again mounted his horse, and leaving all the wonders of london unvisited, spurred back northward towards nottingham. at the inn where he rested the first night of his journey, he wrote an account of the information he had gained to his friends at norwich, saying that he proposed carrying out the plan suggested by giles dainsforth, and that as soon as he could make the arrangements he hoped to sail in a galley for pennsylvania. on reaching home he found that dainsforth had expressed the same opinion to his friends at nottingham. he had, therefore, little difficulty in inducing them to join in a speculation for the purchase of a galley, to be freighted with goods suitable for the plantations, he himself having the command of her. having made all the preliminary arrangements, he was about to start for london, when he received information from mr gournay that a galley admirably suited for his object was about to be launched at lynn regis. scarcely had the letter been read, when jack was on horseback, and spurring forward to that town. he was not disappointed in the appearance of the vessel. she was stoutly built, and roomy, capable of carrying a large cargo. as she reached the water she was named the "nottingham galley." john deane, whose manners were such as to gain the confidence of his fellow-men, soon found a hardy crew to man her. by the time she was ready for sea, he had obtained a considerable share of his prize-money. his brother jasper, his cousin nat, and his father, with several other influential persons at nottingham, took shares in the speculation. it would be impossible to follow deane in his various journeys backwards and forwards to norwich, lynn, and nottingham, while the galley was getting ready for sea. at length, having received a part of her cargo on board, sent from norwich and nottingham, and other places to the west, he made sail for the thames, where he was to receive the remainder. chapter thirty six. adventure in the "nottingham galley"--shipwreck. captain john deane had now launched forth in a new character, that of a merchant adventurer, especially honoured in those days, as it deserved to be. the merchant adventurers a century and a half ago were the promoters of civilisation, the founders of kingdoms, while they were generally distinguished by their courage, perseverance, and honourable conduct. the "nottingham galley" had a crew of forty men, and she mounted twenty guns, with which her captain hoped to defend her against any enemies she might encounter. he had hitherto been a successful man, and he began to think that it would never be his lot to be otherwise. the voyage was prosperous till the "nottingham galley" was within fifty leagues of the american coast. a furious gale then sprang up, and thick weather came on, so that no observations could be taken. deane endeavoured to bring the ship to, that he might keep off the coast till the weather should moderate. in vain, however, did he make the attempt. the after-masts were carried away; and now the ship could only run before the gale, it being feared every moment that the seas which came roaring up astern would break on board. he hoped, however, that the weather might moderate before they reached the entrance of the delaware river, up which the galley was bound. vain hope! the darkness of night came on, and instead of moderating, the gale increased. the crew, hardy as they were, clung to the bulwarks and the shrouds, expecting that every moment would be their last. still the fury of the tempest increased. the wind whistled through the shrouds, and the seas raged up alongside. a loud roar was heard ahead. "breakers! breakers!" shouted the crew. the next instant there came a fearful crash. the helpless galley was driven forward amid the rocks. the seas swept over her. many were washed away, or dashed furiously against the rocks. deane felt himself lifted up by a sea which dashed against the devoted vessel. he suspected that the fate which had overtaken many of his crew would now be his. onward the sea bore him. he struck out, struggling bravely for life. his feet touched the hard sand, and the next instant he was thrown high upon the beach. he staggered forward, and before the following sea had reached him he had escaped from its clutches. the despairing shrieks of his crew reached his ears. in vain he endeavoured to render them assistance. he rescued two, however, at the risk of being himself thrown back into the foaming surges. three others had been thrown as he had been on shore. when morning at length broke, they were the only survivors of the gallant band which had manned the "nottingham galley." captain deane's first thought was, that possibly this might be the very island on which the "venus" had been cast away, supposing it to be an island, of which he was not yet sure. a vague feeling that even now elizabeth and mistress pearson might be living on it, induced him immediately to set forth to explore the country. he had not gone far before in front of him he saw several huts, constructed evidently out of the wreck of a vessel. he hurried on, eager to communicate with the inhabitants whom he expected to find within them. as he reached the huts, however, he soon saw by the open doors and the silence which reigned on every side, that they were deserted. on searching around, however, he discovered signs that they had been inhabited by a considerable number of persons. one of the huts, built at a short distance from the others, was constructed in a better style. it was closed by a door placed on hinges, and there was a window which could be closed by a shutter. he lifted the latch. there were two neat bed-places within, and on the table some small shreds of silk, and a few other articles such as were used by females met his sight. this then might possibly have been the abode of elizabeth. he looked eagerly around with tender interest, in the hope of finding some sign by which he might ascertain the truth. all the articles of value had been removed, but still it was evident that the hut had been abandoned somewhat suddenly. at length he found an object sticking between the crib and the wall, as if it had fallen down between them. it was a book. he opened it eagerly. on the blank page at the commencement were the letters "e.p." he had no longer any doubt that it was the property of elizabeth. he placed it in his bosom and continued the search. there could be no doubt then, that the vessel which giles dainsforth had mentioned as being on the point of sailing in search of the shipwrecked crew had reached the place, and carried them off in safety. for this he was truly thankful, delighted as he would have been to have found elizabeth still there, as he had almost expected to do. on his return he told his companions what he had discovered. their spirits revived as they began to hope that some vessel might pass that way, and carry them to the plantation. as they gazed, however, on the ocean, covered with foaming billows, their condition seemed perilous indeed. of the ship herself, not a plank clung together, though the beach was strewed with various articles which had formed her cargo. one of her boats too had been cast ashore, without receiving any material damage. deane immediately summoned his men around him, and pointed out to them the necessity of saving whatever provisions were washed on shore. by this time the gale had considerably abated, and they were enabled to drag up several casks and cases containing food, which they so much required. in the same way, numerous bales and other articles which had formed the cargo of the ship were saved. they found themselves on an uninhabited island of small extent, which seemed likely to afford them but scanty means of subsistence. in the far distance could be seen a long blue ridge of land, which deane knew must be the continent. their great requirement however was water, for without it their stores and flour would have availed them but little. they therefore immediately set about searching for it, and at length a slight moisture was found oozing out from beneath the roots of a large tree. after eagerly scraping away the earth with their hands for some time, the hole they had formed was filled with a small portion of the precious liquid. this encouraged them to hope that a sufficient supply might be obtained, and with better heart than they had hitherto possessed they took their first meal on the island. on examining the boat, captain deane was of opinion that if repaired, she would carry them to the mainland: but as yet there were no tools found by which this could be accomplished. thus were all their hopes of escaping frustrated. their life on the island was that of most shipwrecked mariners. even when partaking of their meals, they could not but feel that their store of provisions would in time come to an end, and that thus, unless relieved, famine would overtake them at last. several days passed by, when as two of their number were wandering along the shore a chest was seen fixed between two rocks. summoning their companions, not without difficulty they waded towards it. it was found to be a carpenter's chest. after considerable labour they contrived to break it open, when to their great joy they discovered within it a supply of tools and nails, with iron hoops and other necessary articles. they now eagerly set to work to repair their boat, but as none of them were carpenters they found it a more difficult task than they had expected. spars and oars and sails had also to be formed. no one, however, was idle, and they made up by diligence what they wanted in skill. the boat was at last launched and moored between the rocks. all the provisions they could collect, with a supply of water in such casks as would hold it were placed on board. they had left the island astern when a sail appeared in sight, rapidly approaching them from the east. deane, supposing she was some vessel bound up the delaware for philadelphia, hove to, purposing if such was the case to take a passage in her, instead of risking the voyage in their open boat, still imperfectly repaired. as she drew nearer, she was seen to be a large ship carrying several guns, yet she wanted the trim appearance of a man-of-war. no colours were flying at her mast-head or peak, and altogether her appearance did not satisfy captain deane. it was now, however, too late to avoid her. already the boat must have been seen by those on board. still deane thought it more prudent to fill his sails, and to stand away towards the opening which he took to be the mouth of the river of which he was in search. a shot from the ship told him that he had been discovered. it was the signal also for him again to heave to. in a short time the ship got up to the boat, and a voice from her decks hailed, ordering those in the boat to sheer alongside and to come on board. there was no use attempting to disobey this order, as they were already under the ship's guns. having secured the boat alongside, deane and his men stepped on deck. from the appearance of the officers and the number of men composing the mongrel-looking crew on board, who seemed to be of all countries and of all shades of colour, the thought at once occurred to captain deane that the vessel was a pirate. "what have you been about, and where are you going?" asked a man who stepped forward from among the people on board. though considerably older, and knocked about by climate and hardship, deane had little difficulty in recognising his former acquaintance pearson. the pirate captain looked at him two or three times, but if he had recognised him for a moment, he soon seemed to have altered his opinion. jack felt that the best plan, whether he was right or wrong in his conjectures, was to tell the whole truth of himself. pearson seemed interested in hearing nottingham spoken of, and it made him give another glance at deane. "ah well, my man," he said, "we wish you no harm, but we can allow no vessel to proceed to the new plantations." "that's a hard rule, sir," answered jack, "as we are likely enough to starve on the island we have just left, and if we remain at sea we shall perish in the next gale that comes on." "you have your remedy," said the pirate captain. "you may join our brave crew. you shall be an officer on board, and your men shall share with the rest." "we cannot accept your offer," answered deane; "and perhaps for old acquaintance' sake, master pearson, you will grant my request?" the pirate captain started on hearing himself thus addressed. "who are you?" he asked, looking again hard at deane. "one you knew in his youth, and who has never ceased to wish you well," answered jack. "you have served one sovereign--i have fought under the flag of another. do you know me now?" "yes, indeed i do; though you are greatly changed from the stripling you were when i knew you," answered pearson, stretching out his hand. "i wish you well, for i thought you a brave and honest youth, and i am thankful to find you took your own course. now, as i believe you to be unchanged, the promise i ask you to make, if i allow you to proceed, is--that you will not give information of my vessel being off the coast." deane was rather perplexed what answer to make. "no," he answered at last; "i wish you no harm; at the same time, i cannot allow any honest trader to fall into your hands. now hear me, master pearson. my object in coming out here is to carry home two persons in whom you were once greatly interested: the little elizabeth whom you protected in her youth, and your own wife, whom i am sure you once loved. i throw myself, therefore, on your generosity." pearson seemed greatly agitated for some minutes. "i will not interfere with you," he answered. "i cannot force that poor lady to undergo the hardships into which i once led her, and i will therefore leave her to your kindness and charity. i would that i could accompany you, but i cannot desert my comrades. but the time may come ere long, that i may enable them to secure their own safety, and i will then, if i still have the means, endeavour to visit pennsylvania." much on the same subject passed between the two former acquaintances. the pirates' ship towed the boat to the mouth of the delaware, when the latter cast off and stood up the river, while the pirate proceeded again towards the ocean. chapter thirty seven. pennsylvania--return home--last adventures and conclusion. captain deane and his companions had a prosperous voyage up the delaware, and in two days the buildings of the new city appeared in sight, standing at the junction of the delaware and the schuylkill. the delaware is a noble stream, and the schuylkill is as broad at its mouth as the thames is at woolwich. the banks of the great river above which the town was laid out were bold and high, the air pure and wholesome, while the neighbouring lands were free from swamps. altogether the site was one admirably fitted for the purpose of a great city. clay for making bricks was found on the spot, and quarries of good stone abounded within a few miles. already the city was laid out according to the design of its sagacious founder, but as yet, although a considerable number of houses had been erected near to each other, forming streets, many were only scattered about here and there, according as the owners had purchased their town lots. two streets, one of them facing a magnificent row of red pines, were planned to front the rivers. the great public thoroughfare alone separated the houses from the banks. it was arranged that these streets were to be connected by the high street, a magnificent avenue perfectly straight and a hundred feet in width, to be adorned with trees and gardens. at a right angle with the high street a broad street of equal width was to cut the city in two from north to south. it was thus divided into four sections. in the exact centre of the city, a large square of ten acres was reserved for the advantage of the public, and in the middle of each quarter a smaller square of eight acres was set apart for the same purpose. eight streets, each fifty feet wide, were to be built parallel to the high street, and twenty of the same width parallel to the rivers. mr penn's great object was to give a rural appearance to the houses of his new city. the boat reached the shore before a large building, which from the sign-board swinging in front of it, on which a large blue anchor was painted, was known to be a house of entertainment deane and his companions, hauling up their boat, hastened towards it, as he hoped there to obtain the information as to where giles dainsforth and his sister were to be found. this building was then one of the most important in the province. it was not only a beer-house, but an exchange, a corn-market, and a post-office. it was formed of large rafters of wood, the interstices being filled with bricks, which had been brought in the vessels from england, in the same manner as houses to be found in cheshire, and some built in the tudor and stuart periods. already a magnificent quay of three hundred feet in length had been formed by the side of the river, and there were also stone houses with pointed roofs, and balconies, and porches, in different parts. although in some portions of the city pine-trees and pine-stumps still remained, altogether upwards of a thousand houses had been erected. among them was a large building devoted to the purposes of a public school or college. a printing-press had long been established in the city by william bradford, a native of leicester, who had accompanied mr penn in the "welcome." deane had, however, but little inclination to view the city until he had found his way to the house of his sister and brother-in-law. he had no great difficulty in discovering it, for giles dainsforth was already well-known as a man of mark, as sagacious, steady, and industrious men are sure to be in a new settlement. "there is friend dainsforth's house," said a worthy citizen to whom deane addressed himself; and he saw before him a fine and substantial stone building, with a broad verandah surrounded by trees and flowering shrubs. a gentle voice reached his ears, singing an air he knew well. the door stood open and he entered. passing through the house, he saw seated on a lawn, beneath the shade of the building, three ladies, while the same number of young children played about them. the nearest he recognised as his sister kate, though grown into more matronly proportions than when he last had seen her. near her was a fair girl. he required not a second glance to convince him that she was elizabeth. he hurried forward, forgetting how he might startle them. a cry of delight escaped elizabeth as she advanced to meet him. in another minute he found himself in the arms of his sister, while a sob of joy escaped from her companion's bosom. "he's come! he's come!" she exclaimed; "i knew he would find us out." the third lady was mistress pearson. she looked careworn and aged, as if her life had well-nigh come to an end. their history was soon told. when at length captain davis was ordered to visit the plantations, previous to returning to england, he obtained permission to receive them on board and to convey them home. when the ship was cast away, they, with a few only of the crew, had been rescued. the captain, however, although he was the last to leave the ship, had also been saved. deane had fortunately told elizabeth of the marriage of giles dainsforth to his sister, and of their intention of settling in pennsylvania. on their arrival, therefore, at philadelphia, hearing his name, she made herself known to him, and it was thus that she and mistress pearson became inmates of his house. in a short time giles dainsforth himself, accompanied by captain davis, arrived at the house, and a happy party were soon assembled round the supper-table. deane heard a great deal of the flourishing condition of the plantation, and of its vast internal resources. he heard, too, from dainsforth, that the settlers had resolved not to allow the importation of slaves into the colony. they had established it because they themselves loved freedom, and they were resolved to employ free men alone in the cultivation of their lands. he also heard that the whole territory had been purchased from the native tribes, and that not the life of a single red man had been taken away by the settlers since their arrival in the country. from the first, they had lived on the most friendly terms with the native tribes. this was indeed glorious news, especially in those days, when the traffic in negroes was looked upon as lawful, and when in most instances might made right in all parts of the world. altogether the account which deane received of the colony was so favourable that he could not help longing to come and settle in it. he had, however, promised to bring elizabeth back to her parents, and poor mistress pearson also was very anxious to lay her bones in her native land. captain davis likewise desired to return home on the first opportunity, that he might stand his trial for the loss of his ship, which he considered himself in honour bound to do. deane, however, resolved not to run the risk of again being separated from elizabeth. she having no legal guardian, he instituted himself as such, and then gave himself permission to marry her, which she, nothing loath, consented to do forthwith. the marriage was celebrated with such religious and legal ceremonies as were then considered sufficient in philadelphia. colonel markham, the acting governor, being one of the witnesses. jack and his bride, accompanied by captain davis and his sister, soon afterwards embarked on board a stout ship sailing for england. they arrived safely in london, whence jack wrote to norwich to announce his safe return. a few days were spent in the great city, that elizabeth might recruit her strength after her voyage. during his stay there, he met with an old brother officer, captain bertrand, who, hailing him with pleasure, told him that he was the very man he was looking out for. "i have taken service," he said, "with the permission of the british government, under the czar of russia, the great peter, for such he is indeed. you will remember his labouring as a shipwright in england not many years since, to gain a knowledge of ship-building he is now constructing a large fleet, and he is anxious to secure the services of a number of active and intelligent officers like yourself. what do you say? i can promise you handsome pay, and the command of a line-of-battle ship." deane replied that he must think about it, as he had only lately married a wife, and had no inclination to leave her. "oh, you must bring her with you!" was the answer. "you can establish her in the new city the czar is building on the neva; and, depend upon it, you will have no long cruises to make. foreign officers can be found; but he will have a difficulty in making seamen out of his serfs. free men only are fit to become seamen, in my opinion." captain deane begged that his friend would give him his address, and should he determine to accept his offer, after he had visited his friends, he would communicate with him. leaving the unhappy mistress pearson with her brother, deane set forward in a coach with his bride for norwich. he had fortunately been able to procure the balance of prize-money due to him while he was in london, which amounted to a considerable sum, and he was thus, in spite of his heavy loss in the "nottingham galley," no longer crippled by want of means. words can scarcely describe the joy with which madame de mertens and her husband received their long-lost daughter. though she had grown from a young child into a woman, they immediately recognised her, while the trinkets she had preserved prevented them having any doubt about the matter. after spending some time at norwich, and receiving great kindness from the excellent mr gournay and his lady, the young couple repaired to nottingham. the loss of the "nottingham galley," however, caused jack to be more coolly received by his friends than he had anticipated. in vain he tried to explain to them that they should find fault with the elements more than with him for the ill-success of their speculation. he undertook, if it was their wish, to command another galley, and to embark all his property in the enterprise. to this, however, none of them would agree. yet there were two of his friends who received him in a different manner to the rest--his sister polly and his sister-in-law alethea. prosperity had not improved his brother jasper, and he appeared to be more bitter than any of the family who suffered from the wreck of the galley. a reconciliation was however at last brought about by cousin nat and polly. jack had been dining at the house of his sister and her husband, where he met jasper, to whose house in fletcher-gate he agreed to walk in the evening. on their way, some remarks made by dr jasper irritated john deane, as he considered them unfair and unjust, and angry words were heard by some of the passers-by, uttered by him to his brother. they reached the door together. a flight of stone steps led to it from the street. unhappily, at this moment the doctor repeated the expressions which had justly offended the captain, who declared that he would not allow himself to be addressed in so injurious a manner. as he spoke he pushed impatiently past his brother, who at that moment stumbled down the steps. the doctor fell; and as captain deane stooped to lift him up, to his horror, he found that he was dead! rumour, with her hundred tongues, forthwith spread the report that the fire-eating captain had killed his brother. the verdict however of the jury who sat to decide the case was, that dr jasper deane had died by the visitation of god. still captain deane was conscious of the angry feelings which had excited his bosom at the moment, and he felt that the mark of cain was upon his forehead. he could no longer remain at home, and though those who loved him best knew of his innocence, and did their utmost to console him, he determined to leave the country. he accordingly wrote to captain bertrand, accepting his offer of a naval command under the czar of russia; and in a short time he and elizabeth sailed for the baltic. he rendered great assistance in organising the navy of that wonderful man peter the great, and after serving with much credit for a few years, he returned to england. captain deane had during this time found a number of friends, and by their means he was soon afterwards appointed english consul at ostend, where he lived with his wife elizabeth till they were both advanced in life. as an elderly couple they came back to nottingham once more, and went to live in the sweet village of wilford, on the opposite side of the silvery trent. it was the peaceful green retreat that had beckoned him back to england from many a scene of foreign grandeur, and smiled across many a time of tumult and of battle. he and his wife both loved the dutch home where they had so long lived, and when he built a house for himself in a thorough english village, he constructed it in the dutch style, which indeed in his early youth had been the very height of fashion. next to his own, behind the same trim garden and row of silvery poplars, he built one also for his sister polly, who was then a widow. alethea, after the death of her husband, had returned to harwood grange with her children, and devoted herself to them, endeavouring so to bring them up that they might love and serve god. she by this time had also gone to her rest; so also had most of those who have been mentioned in the previous history. mistress pearson did not live long after her return to england, and she was saved the misery of hearing the tragical death of her husband, who, with all his faults, had at all events loved her. in a desperate action with a queen's ship, he with all his crew had been blown up, shortly after deane had encountered him at the mouth of the delaware. the tomb of john deane, captain rn, and of elizabeth his wife, is to be seen on a little green promontory above the sparkling trent and near the chancel of the parish church, where sweet strains of music, accompanying the sound of human voices and the murmurs of the river, are wont to mingle in harmonious hymns of prayer and praise. a more fitting spot in which to await in readiness for the last hour of life than wilford can scarcely be imagined, nor a sweeter place than its church-yard in which the mortal may lie down to rest from toil till summoned by the last trump to rise and put on immortality. the end. there is no death works by florence marryat published in the international series. no. cts. . blindfold, . brave heart and true, . mount eden, . on circumstantial evidence, . risen dead, the, . scarlet sin, a, . there is no death, there is no death by florence marryat author of "love's conflict," "veronique," etc., etc. "there is no death--what seems so is transition. this life of mortal breath is but a suburb of the life elysian whose portal we call----death."--longfellow. new york national book company , , and mission place copyright, , by united states book company there is no death. chapter i. family ghosts. it has been strongly impressed upon me for some years past to write an account of the wonderful experiences i have passed through in my investigation of the science of spiritualism. in doing so i intend to confine myself to recording facts. i will describe the scenes i have witnessed with my own eyes, and repeat the words i have heard with my own ears, leaving the deduction to be drawn from them wholly to my readers. i have no ambition to start a theory nor to promulgate a doctrine; above all things i have no desire to provoke an argument. i have had more than enough of arguments, philosophical, scientific, religious, and purely aggressive, to last a lifetime; and were i called upon for my definition of the rest promised to the weary, i should reply--a place where every man may hold his own opinion, and no one is permitted to dispute it. but though i am about to record a great many incidents that are so marvellous as to be almost incredible, i do not expect to be disbelieved, except by such as are capable of deception themselves. they--conscious of their own infirmity--invariably believe that other people must be telling lies. byron wrote, "he is a fool who denies that which he cannot disprove;" and though carlyle gives us the comforting assurance that the population of great britain consists "chiefly of fools," i pin my faith upon receiving credence from the few who are not so. why should i be disbelieved? when the late lady brassey published the "cruise of the _sunbeam_," and sir samuel and lady baker related their experiences in central africa, and livingstone wrote his account of the wonders he met with whilst engaged in the investigation of the source of the nile, and henry stanley followed up the story and added thereto, did they anticipate the public turning up its nose at their narrations, and declaring it did not believe a word they had written? yet their readers had to accept the facts they offered for credence, on their authority alone. very few of them had even _heard_ of the places described before; scarcely one in a thousand could, either from personal experience or acquired knowledge, attest the truth of the description. what was there--for the benefit of the general public--to _prove_ that the _sunbeam_ had sailed round the world, or that sir samuel baker had met with the rare beasts, birds, and flowers he wrote of, or that livingstone and stanley met and spoke with those curious, unknown tribes that never saw white men till they set eyes on them? yet had any one of those writers affirmed that in his wanderings he had encountered a gold field of undoubted excellence, thousands of fortune-seekers would have left their native land on his word alone, and rushed to secure some of the glittering treasure. why? because the authors of those books were persons well known in society, who had a reputation for veracity to maintain, and who would have been quickly found out had they dared to deceive. i claim the same grounds for obtaining belief. i have a well-known name and a public reputation, a tolerable brain, and two sharp eyes. what i have witnessed, others, with equal assiduity and perseverance, may witness for themselves. it would demand a voyage round the world to see all that the owners of the _sunbeam_ saw. it would demand time and trouble and money to see what i have seen, and to some people, perhaps, it would not be worth the outlay. but if i have journeyed into the debateable land (which so few really believe in, and most are terribly afraid of), and come forward now to tell what i have seen there, the world has no more right to disbelieve me than it had to disbelieve lady brassey. because the general public has not penetrated central africa, is no reason that livingstone did not do so; because the general public has not seen (and does not care to see) what i have seen, is no argument against the truth of what i write. to those who _do_ believe in the possibility of communion with disembodied spirits, my story will be interesting perhaps, on account of its dealing throughout in a remarkable degree with the vexed question of identity and recognition. to the materialistic portion of creation who may credit me with not being a bigger fool than the remainder of the thirty-eight millions of great britain, it may prove a new source of speculation and research. and for those of my fellow-creatures who possess no curiosity, nor imagination, nor desire to prove for themselves what they cannot accept on the testimony of others, i never had, and never shall have, anything in common. they are the sort of people who ask you with a pleasing smile if irving wrote "the charge of the light brigade," and say they like byron's "sardanapalus" very well, but it is not so funny as "our boys." now, before going to work in right earnest, i do not think it is generally known that my father, the late captain marryat, was not only a believer in ghosts, but himself a ghost-seer. i am delighted to be able to record this fact as an introduction to my own experiences. perhaps the ease with which such manifestations have come to me is a gift which i inherit from him, anyway i am glad he shared the belief and the power of spiritual sight with me. if there were no other reason to make me bold to repeat what i have witnessed, the circumstance would give me courage. my father was not like his intimate friends, charles dickens, lord lytton, and many other men of genius, highly strung, nervous, and imaginative. i do not believe my father had any "nerves," and i think he had very little imagination. almost all his works are founded on his personal experiences. his _forte_ lay in a humorous description of what he had seen. he possessed a marvellous power of putting his recollections into graphic and forcible language, and the very reason that his books are almost as popular to-day as when they were written, is because they are true histories of their time. there is scarcely a line of fiction in them. his body was as powerful and muscular as his brain. his courage was indomitable--his moral courage as well as his physical (as many people remember to their cost to this day), and his hardness of belief on many subjects is no secret. what i am about to relate therefore did not happen to some excitable, nervous, sickly sentimentalist, and i repeat that i am proud to have inherited his constitutional tendencies, and quite willing to stand judgment after him. i have heard that my father had a number of stories to relate of supernatural (as they are usually termed) incidents that had occurred to him, but i will content myself with relating such as were proved to be (at the least) very remarkable coincidences. in my work, "the life and letters of captain marryat," i relate an anecdote of him that was entered in his private "log," and found amongst his papers. he had a younger brother, samuel, to whom he was very much attached, and who died unexpectedly in england whilst my father, in command of h. m. s. _larne_, was engaged in the first burmese war. his men broke out with scurvy and he was ordered to take his vessel over to pulu pinang for a few weeks in order to get the sailors fresh fruit and vegetables. as my father was lying in his berth one night, anchored off the island, with the brilliant tropical moonlight making everything as bright as day, he saw the door of his cabin open, and his brother samuel entered and walked quietly up to his side. he looked just the same as when they had parted, and uttered in a perfectly distinct voice, "fred! i have come to tell you that i am dead!" when the figure entered the cabin my father jumped up in his berth, thinking it was some one coming to rob him, and when he saw who it was and heard it speak, he leaped out of bed with the intention of detaining it, but it was gone. so vivid was the impression made upon him by the apparition that he drew out his log at once and wrote down all particulars concerning it, with the hour and day of its appearance. on reaching england after the war was over, the first dispatches put into his hand were to announce the death of his brother, who had passed away at the very hour when he had seen him in the cabin. but the story that interests me most is one of an incident which occurred to my father during my lifetime, and which we have always called "the brown lady of rainham." i am aware that this narrative has reached the public through other sources, and i have made it the foundation of a christmas story myself. but it is too well authenticated to be omitted here. the last fifteen years of my father's life were passed on his own estate of langham, in norfolk, and amongst his county friends were sir charles and lady townshend of rainham hall. at the time i speak of, the title and property had lately changed hands, and the new baronet had re-papered, painted, and furnished the hall throughout, and come down with his wife and a large party of friends to take possession. but to their annoyance, soon after their arrival, rumors arose that the house was haunted, and their guests began, one and all (like those in the parable), to make excuses to go home again. sir charles and lady townshend might have sung, "friend after friend departs," with due effect, but it would have had none on the general exodus that took place from rainham. and it was all on account of a brown lady, whose portrait hung in one of the bedrooms, and in which she was represented as wearing a brown satin dress with yellow trimmings, and a ruff around her throat--a very harmless, innocent-looking young woman. but they all declared they had seen her walking about the house--some in the corridor, some in their bedrooms, others in the lower premises, and neither guests nor servants would remain in the hall. the baronet was naturally very much annoyed about it, and confided his trouble to my father, and my father was indignant at the trick he believed had been played upon him. there was a great deal of smuggling and poaching in norfolk at that period, as he knew well, being a magistrate of the county, and he felt sure that some of these depredators were trying to frighten the townshends away from the hall again. the last baronet had been a solitary sort of being, and lead a retired life, and my father imagined some of the tenantry had their own reasons for not liking the introduction of revelries and "high jinks" at rainham. so he asked his friends to let him stay with them and sleep in the haunted chamber, and he felt sure he could rid them of the nuisance. they accepted his offer, and he took possession of the room in which the portrait of the apparition hung, and in which she had been often seen, and slept each night with a loaded revolver under his pillow. for two days, however, he saw nothing, and the third was to be the limit of his stay. on the third night, however, two young men (nephews of the baronet) knocked at his door as he was undressing to go to bed, and asked him to step over to their room (which was at the other end of the corridor), and give them his opinion on a new gun just arrived from london. my father was in his shirt and trousers, but as the hour was late, and everybody had retired to rest except themselves, he prepared to accompany them as he was. as they were leaving the room, he caught up his revolver, "in case we meet the brown lady," he said, laughing. when the inspection of the gun was over, the young men in the same spirit declared they would accompany my father back again, "in case you meet the brown lady," they repeated, laughing also. the three gentlemen therefore returned in company. the corridor was long and dark, for the lights had been extinguished, but as they reached the middle of it, they saw the glimmer of a lamp coming towards them from the other end. "one of the ladies going to visit the nurseries," whispered the young townshends to my father. now the bedroom doors in that corridor faced each other, and each room had a double door with a space between, as is the case in many old-fashioned country houses. my father (as i have said) was in a shirt and trousers only, and his native modesty made him feel uncomfortable, so he slipped within one of the _outer_ doors (his friends following his example), in order to conceal himself until the lady should have passed by. i have heard him describe how he watched her approaching nearer and nearer, through the chink of the door, until, as she was close enough for him to distinguish the colors and style of her costume, he recognized the figure as the facsimile of the portrait of "the brown lady." he had his finger on the trigger of his revolver, and was about to demand it to stop and give the reason for its presence there, when the figure halted of its own accord before the door behind which he stood, and holding the lighted lamp she carried to her features, grinned in a malicious and diabolical manner at him. this act so infuriated my father, who was anything but lamb-like in disposition, that he sprang into the corridor with a bound, and discharged the revolver right in her face. the figure instantly disappeared--the figure at which for the space of several minutes _three_ men had been looking together--and the bullet passed through the outer door of the room on the opposite side of the corridor, and lodged in the panel of the inner one. my father never attempted again to interfere with "the brown lady of rainham," and i have heard that she haunts the premises to this day. that she did so at that time, however, there is no shadow of doubt. but captain marryat not only held these views and believed in them from personal experience--he promulgated them in his writings. there are many passages in his works which, read by the light of my assertion, prove that he had faith in the possibility of the departed returning to visit this earth, and in the theory of re-incarnation or living more than one life upon it, but nowhere does he speak more plainly than in the following extract from the "phantom ship":-- "think you, philip," (says amine to her husband), "that this world is solely peopled by such dross as we are?--things of clay, perishable and corruptible, lords over beasts and ourselves, but little better? have you not, from your own sacred writings, repeated acknowledgments and proofs of higher intelligences, mixing up with mankind, and acting here below? why should what was _then_ not be _now_, and what more harm is there to apply for their aid now than a few thousand years ago? why should you suppose that they were permitted on the earth then and not permitted now? what has become of them? have they perished? have they been ordered back? to where?--to heaven? if to heaven, the world and mankind have been left to the mercy of the devil and his agents. do you suppose that we poor mortals have been thus abandoned? i tell you plainly, i think not. we no longer have the communication with those intelligences that we once had, because as we become more enlightened we become more proud and seek them not, but that they still exist a host of good against a host of evil, invisibly opposing each other, is my conviction." one testimony to such a belief, from the lips of my father, is sufficient. he would not have written it unless he had been prepared to maintain it. he was not one of those wretched literary cowards who we meet but too often now-a-days, who are too much afraid of the world to confess with their mouths the opinions they hold in their hearts. had he lived to this time i believe he would have been one of the most energetic and outspoken believers in spiritualism that we possess. so much, however, for his testimony to the possibility of spirits, good and evil, revisiting this earth. i think few will be found to gainsay the assertion that where _he_ trod, his daughter need not be ashamed to follow. before the question of spiritualism, however, arose in modern times, i had had my own little private experiences on the subject. from an early age i was accustomed to see, and to be very much alarmed at seeing, certain forms that appeared to me at night. one in particular, i remember, was that of a very short or deformed old woman, who was very constant to me. she used to stand on tiptoe to look at me as i lay in bed, and however dark the room might be, i could always see every article in it, as if illuminated, whilst she remained there. i was in the habit of communicating these visions to my mother and sisters (my father had passed from us by that time), and always got well ridiculed for my pains. "another of flo's optical illusions," they would cry, until i really came to think that the appearances i saw were due to some defect in my eye-sight. i have heard my first husband say, that when he married me he thought he should never rest for an entire night in his bed, so often did i wake him with the description of some man or woman i had seen in the room. i recall these figures distinctly. they were always dressed in white, from which circumstance i imagined that they were natives who had stolen in to rob us, until, from repeated observation, i discovered they only formed part of another and more enlarged series of my "optical illusions." all this time i was very much afraid of seeing what i termed "ghosts." no love of occult science led me to investigate the cause of my alarm. i only wished never to see the "illusions" again, and was too frightened to remain by myself lest they should appear to me. when i had been married for about two years, the head-quarters of my husband's regiment, the th madras native infantry, was ordered to rangoon, whilst the left wing, commanded by a major cooper, was sent to assist in the bombardment of canton. major cooper had only been married a short time, and by rights his wife had no claim to sail with the head-quarters for burmah, but as she had no friends in madras, and was moreover expecting her confinement, our colonel permitted her to do so, and she accompanied us to rangoon, settling herself in a house not far from our own. one morning, early in july, i was startled by receiving a hurried scrawl from her, containing only these words, "come! come! come!" i set off at once, thinking she had been taken ill, but on my arrival i found mrs. cooper sitting up in bed with only her usual servants about her. "what is the matter?" i exclaimed. "mark is dead," she answered me; "he sat in that chair" (pointing to one by the bedside) "all last night. i noticed every detail of his face and figure. he was in undress, and he never raised his eyes, but sat with the peak of his forage cap pulled down over his face. but i could see the back of his head and his hair, and i know it was he. i spoke to him but he did not answer me, and i am _sure_ he is dead." naturally, i imagined this vision to have been dictated solely by fear and the state of her health. i laughed at her for a simpleton, and told her it was nothing but fancy, and reminded her that by the last accounts received from the seat of war, major cooper was perfectly well and anticipating a speedy reunion with her. laugh as i would, however, i could not laugh her out of her belief, and seeing how low-spirited she was, i offered to pass the night with her. it was a very nice night indeed. as soon as ever we had retired to bed, although a lamp burned in the room, mrs. cooper declared that her husband was sitting in the same chair as the night before, and accused me of deception when i declared that i saw nothing at all. i sat up in bed and strained my eyes, but i could discern nothing but an empty arm-chair, and told her so. she persisted that major cooper sat there, and described his personal appearance and actions. i got out of bed and sat in the chair, when she cried out, "don't, don't! _you are sitting right on him!_" it was evident that the apparition was as real to her as if it had been flesh and blood. i jumped up again fast enough, not feeling very comfortable myself, and lay by her side for the remainder of the night, listening to her asseverations that major cooper was either dying or dead. she would not part with me, and on the third night i had to endure the same ordeal as on the second. after the third night the apparition ceased to appear to her, and i was permitted to return home. but before i did so, mrs. cooper showed me her pocket-book, in which she had written down against the th, th, and th of july this sentence: "mark sat by my bedside all night." the time passed on, and no bad news arrived from china, but the mails had been intercepted and postal communication suspended. occasionally, however, we received letters by a sailing vessel. at last came september, and on the third of that month mrs. cooper's baby was born and died. she was naturally in great distress about it, and i was doubly horrified when i was called from her bedside to receive the news of her husband's death, which had taken place from a sudden attack of fever at macao. we did not intend to let mrs. cooper hear of this until she was convalescent, but as soon as i re-entered her room she broached the subject. "are there any letters from china?" she asked. (now this question was remarkable in itself, because the mails having been cut off, there was no particular date when letters might be expected to arrive from the seat of war.) fearing she would insist upon hearing the news, i temporized and answered her, "we have received none." "but there is a letter for me," she continued: "a letter with the intelligence of mark's death. it is useless denying it. i know he is dead. he died on the th of july." and on reference to the official memorandum, this was found to be true. major cooper had been taken ill on the first day he had appeared to his wife, and died on the third. and this incident was the more remarkable, because they were neither of them young nor sentimental people, neither had they lived long enough together to form any very strong sympathy or accord between them. but as i have related it, so it occurred. chapter ii. my first s�ance. i had returned from india and spent several years in england before the subject of modern spiritualism was brought under my immediate notice. cursorily i had heard it mentioned by some people as a dreadfully wicked thing, diabolical to the last degree, by others as a most amusing pastime for evening parties, or when one wanted to get some "fun out of the table." but neither description charmed me, nor tempted me to pursue the occupation. i had already lost too many friends. spiritualism (so it seemed to me) must either be humbug or a very solemn thing, and i neither wished to trifle with it or to be trifled with by it. and after twenty years' continued experience i hold the same opinion. i have proved spiritualism _not_ to be humbug, therefore i regard it in a sacred light. for, _from whatever cause_ it may proceed, it opens a vast area for thought to any speculative mind, and it is a matter of constant surprise to me to see the indifference with which the world regards it. that it _exists_ is an undeniable fact. men of science have acknowledged it, and the churches cannot deny it. the only question appears to be, "_what_ is it, and _whence_ does the power proceed?" if (as many clever people assert) from ourselves, then must these bodies and minds of ours possess faculties hitherto undreamed of, and which we have allowed to lie culpably fallow. if our bodies contain magnetic forces sufficient to raise substantial and apparently living forms from the bare earth, which our eyes are clairvoyant enough to see, and which can articulate words which our ears are clairaudient enough to hear--if, in addition to this, our minds can read each other's inmost thoughts, can see what is passing at a distance, and foretell what will happen in the future, then are our human powers greater than we have ever imagined, and we ought to do a great deal more with them than we do. and even regarding spiritualism from _that_ point of view, i cannot understand the lack of interest displayed in the discovery, to turn these marvellous powers of the human mind to greater account. to discuss it, however, from the usual meaning given to the word, namely, as a means of communication with the departed, leaves me as puzzled as before. all christians acknowledge they have spirits independent of their bodies, and that when their bodies die, their spirits will continue to live on. wherein, then, lies the terror of the idea that these liberated spirits will have the privilege of roaming the universe as they will? and if they argue the _impossibility_ of their return, they deny the records which form the only basis of their religion. no greater proof can be brought forward of the truth of spiritualism than the truth of the bible, which teems and bristles with accounts of it from beginning to end. from the period when the lord god walked with adam and eve in the garden of eden, and the angels came to abram's tent, and pulled lot out of the doomed city; when the witch of endor raised up samuel, and balaam's ass spoke, and ezekiel wrote that the hair of his head stood up because "a spirit" passed before him, to the presence of satan with jesus in the desert, and the reappearance of moses and elias, the resurrection of christ himself, and his talking and eating with his disciples, and the final account of john being caught up to heaven to receive the revelations--_all is spiritualism, and nothing else_. the protestant church that pins its faith upon the bible, and nothing but the bible, cannot deny that the spirits of mortal men have reappeared and been recognized upon this earth, as when the graves opened at the time of the christ's crucifixion, and "many bodies of those that were dead arose and went into the city, and were seen of many." the catholic church does not attempt to deny it. all her legends and miracles (which are disbelieved and ridiculed by the protestants aforesaid) are founded on the same truth--the miraculous or supernatural return (as it is styled) of those who are gone, though i hope to make my readers believe, as i do, that there is nothing miraculous in it, and far from being _super_natural it is only a continuation of nature. putting the churches and the bible, however, on one side, the history of nations proves it to be possible. there is not a people on the face of the globe that has not its (so-called) superstitions, nor a family hardly, which has not experienced some proofs of spiritual communion with earth. where learning and science have thrust all belief out of sight, it is only natural that the man who does not believe in a god nor a hereafter should not credit the existence of spirits, nor the possibility of communicating with them. but the lower we go in the scale of society, the more simple and childlike the mind, the more readily does such a faith gain credence, and the more stories you will hear to justify belief. it is just the same with religion, which is hid from the wise and prudent, and revealed to babes. if i am met here with the objection that the term "spiritualism" has been at times mixed up with so much that is evil as to become an offence, i have no better answer to make than by turning to the irrefragable testimony of the past and present to prove that in all ages, and of all religions, there have been corrupt and demoralized exponents whose vices have threatened to pull down the fabric they lived to raise. christianity itself would have been overthrown before now, had we been unable to separate its doctrine from its practice. i held these views in the month of february, , when i made one of a party of friends assembled at the house of miss elizabeth philip, in gloucester crescent, and was introduced to mr. henry dunphy of the _morning post_, both of them since gone to join the great majority. mr. dunphy soon got astride of his favorite hobby of spiritualism, and gave me an interesting account of some of the _séances_ he had attended. i had heard so many clever men and women discuss the subject before, that i had begun to believe on their authority that there must be "something in it," but i held the opinion that sittings in the dark must afford so much liberty for deception, that i would engage in none where i was not permitted the use of my eyesight. i expressed myself somewhat after this fashion to mr. dunphy. he replied, "then the time has arrived for you to investigate spiritualism, for i can introduce you to a medium who will show you the faces of the dead." this proposal exactly met my wishes, and i gladly accepted it. annie thomas (mrs. pender cudlip,) the novelist, who is an intimate friend of mine, was staying with me at the time and became as eager as i was to investigate the phenomena. we took the address mr. dunphy gave us of mrs. holmes, the american medium, then visiting london, and lodging in old quebec street, portman square, but we refused his introduction, preferring to go _incognito_. accordingly, the next evening, when she held a public _séance_, we presented ourselves at mrs. holmes' door; and having first removed our wedding-rings, and tried to look as virginal as possible, sent up our names as miss taylor and miss turner. i am perfectly aware that this medium was said afterwards to be untrustworthy. so may a servant who was perfectly honest, whilst in my service, leave me for a situation where she is detected in theft. that does not alter the fact that she stole nothing from me. i do not think i know _a single medium_ of whom i have not (at some time or other) heard the same thing, and i do not think i know a single woman whom i have not also, at some time or other, heard scandalized by her own sex, however pure and chaste she may imagine the world holds her. the question affects me in neither case. i value my acquaintances for what they are _to me_, not for what they may be to others; and i have placed trust in my media from what i individually have seen and heard, and proved to be genuine in their presence, and not from what others may imagine they have found out about them. it is no detriment to my witness that the media i sat with cheated somebody else, either before or after. my business was only to take care that _i_ was not cheated, and i have never, in spiritualism, accepted anything at the hands of others that i could not prove for myself. mrs. holmes did not receive us very graciously on the present occasion. we were strangers to her--probably sceptics, and she eyed us rather coldly. it was a bitter night, and the snow lay so thick upon the ground that we had some difficulty in procuring a hansom to take us from bayswater to old quebec street. no other visitors arrived, and after a little while mrs. holmes offered to return our money (ten shillings), as she said if she did sit with us, there would probably be no manifestations on account of the inclemency of the weather. (often since then i have proved her assertion to be true, and found that any extreme of heat or cold is liable to make a _séance_ a dead failure). but annie thomas had to return to her home in torquay on the following day, and so we begged the medium to try at least to show us something, as we were very curious on the subject. i am not quite sure what i expected or hoped for on this occasion. i was full of curiosity and anticipation, but i am sure that i never thought i should see any face which i could recognize as having been on earth. we waited till nine o'clock in hopes that a circle would be formed, but as no one else came, mrs. holmes consented to sit with us alone, warning us, however, several times to prepare for a disappointment. the lights were therefore extinguished, and we sat for the usual preliminary dark _séance_, which was good, perhaps, but has nothing to do with a narrative of facts, proved to be so. when it concluded, the gas was re-lit and we sat for "spirit faces." there were two small rooms connected by folding doors. annie thomas and i, were asked to go into the back room--to lock the door communicating with the landings, and secure it with our own seal, stamped upon a piece of tape stretched across the opening--to examine the window and bar the shutter inside--to search the room thoroughly, in fact, to see that no one was concealed in it--and we did all this as a matter of business. when we had satisfied ourselves that no one could enter from the back, mr. and mrs. holmes, annie thomas, and i were seated on four chairs in the front room, arranged in a row before the folding doors, which were opened, and a square of black calico fastened across the aperture from one wall to the other. in this piece of calico was cut a square hole about the size of an ordinary window, at which we were told the spirit faces (if any) would appear. there was no singing, nor noise of any sort made to drown the sounds of preparation, and we could have heard even a rustle in the next room. mr. and mrs. holmes talked to us of their various experiences, until, we were almost tired of waiting, when something white and indistinct like a cloud of tobacco smoke, or a bundle of gossamer, appeared and disappeared again. "they are coming! i _am_ glad!" said mrs. holmes. "i didn't think we should get anything to-night,"--and my friend and i were immediately on the tiptoe of expectation. the white mass advanced and retreated several times, and finally settled before the aperture and opened in the middle, when a female face was distinctly to be seen above the black calico. what was our amazement to recognize the features of mrs. thomas, annie thomas' mother. here i should tell my readers that annie's father, who was a lieutenant in the royal navy and captain of the coastguard at morston in norfolk, had been a near neighbor and great friend of my father, captain marryat, and their children had associated like brothers and sisters. i had therefore known mrs. thomas well, and recognized her at once, as, of course, did her daughter. the witness of two people is considered sufficient in law. it ought to be accepted by society. poor annie was very much affected, and talked to her mother in the most incoherent manner. the spirit did not appear able to answer in words, but she bowed her head or shook it, according as she wished to say "yes" or "no." i could not help feeling awed at the appearance of the dear old lady, but the only thing that puzzled me was the cap she wore, which was made of white net, quilled closely round her face, and unlike any i had ever seen her wear in life. i whispered this to annie, and she replied at once, "it is the cap she was buried in," which settled the question. mrs. thomas had possessed a very pleasant but very uncommon looking face, with bright black eyes, and a complexion of pink and white like that of a child. it was some time before annie could be persuaded to let her mother go, but the next face that presented itself astonished her quite as much, for she recognized it as that of captain gordon, a gentleman whom she had known intimately and for a length of time. i had never seen captain gordon in the flesh, but i had heard of him, and knew he had died from a sudden accident. all i saw was the head of a good-looking, fair, young man, and not feeling any personal interest in his appearance, i occupied the time during which my friend conversed with him about olden days, by minutely examining the working of the muscles of his throat, which undeniably stretched when his head moved. as i was doing so, he leaned forward, and i saw a dark stain, which looked like a clot of blood, on his fair hair, on the left side of the forehead. "annie! what did captain gordon die of?" i asked. "he fell from a railway carriage," she replied, "and struck his head upon the line." i then pointed out to her the blood upon his hair. several other faces appeared, which we could not recognize. at last came one of a gentleman, apparently moulded like a bust in plaster of paris. he had a kind of smoking cap upon the head, curly hair, and a beard, but from being perfectly colorless, he looked so unlike nature, that i could not trace a resemblance to any friend of mine, though he kept on bowing in my direction, to indicate that i knew, or had known him. i examined this face again and again in vain. nothing in it struck me as familiar, until the mouth broke into a grave, amused smile at my perplexity. in a moment i recognized it as that of my dear old friend, john powles, whose history i shall relate _in extenso_ further on. i exclaimed "powles," and sprang towards it, but with my hasty action the figure disappeared. i was terribly vexed at my imprudence, for this was the friend of all others i desired to see, and sat there, hoping and praying the spirit would return, but it did not. annie thomas' mother and friend both came back several times; indeed, annie recalled captain gordon so often, that on his last appearance the power was so exhausted, his face looked like a faded sketch in water-colors, but "powles" had vanished altogether. the last face we saw that night was that of a little girl, and only her eyes and nose were visible, the rest of her head and face being enveloped in some white flimsy material like muslin. mrs. holmes asked her for whom she came, and she intimated that it was for me. i said she must be mistaken, and that i had known no one in life like her. the medium questioned her very closely, and tried to put her "out of court," as it were. still, the child persisted that she came for me. mrs. holmes said to me, "cannot you remember _anyone_ of that age connected with you in the spirit world? no cousin, nor niece, nor sister, nor the child of a friend?" i tried to remember, but i could not, and answered, "no! no child of that age." she then addressed the little spirit. "you have made a mistake. there is no one here who knows you. you had better move on." so the child did move on, but very slowly and reluctantly. i could read her disappointment in her eyes, and after she had disappeared, she peeped round the corner again and looked at me, longingly. this was "florence," my dear _lost_ child (as i then called her), who had left me as a little infant of ten days old, and whom i could not at first recognize as a young girl of ten years. her identity, however, has been proved to me since, beyond all doubt, as will be seen in the chapter which relates my reunion with her, and is headed "my spirit child." thus ended the first _séance_ at which i ever assisted, and it made a powerful impression upon my mind. mrs. holmes, in bidding us good-night, said, "you two ladies must be very powerful mediums. i never held so successful a _séance_ with strangers in my life before." this news elated us--we were eager to pursue our investigations, and were enchanted to think we could have _séances_ at home, and as soon as annie thomas took up her residence in london, we agreed to hold regular meetings for the purpose. this was the _séance_ that made me a student of the psychological phenomena, which the men of the nineteenth century term spiritualism. had it turned out a failure, i might now have been as most men are. _quien sabe?_ as it was, it incited me to go on and on, until i have seen and heard things which at that moment would have seemed utterly impossible to me. and i would not have missed the experience i have passed through for all the good this world could offer me. chapter iii. curious coincidences. before i proceed to write down the results of my private and premeditated investigations, i am reminded to say a word respecting the permission i received for the pursuit of spiritualism. as soon as i expressed my curiosity on the subject, i was met on all sides with the objection that, as i am a catholic, i could not possibly have anything to do with the matter, and it is a fact that the church strictly forbids all meddling with necromancy, or communion with the departed. necromancy is a terrible word, is it not? especially to such people as do not understand its meaning, and only associate it with the dead of night and charmed circles, and seething caldrons, and the arch fiend, in _propria persona_, with two horns and a tail. yet it seems strange to me that the catholic church, whose very doctrine is overlaid with spiritualism, and who makes it a matter of belief that the saints hear and help us in our prayers and the daily actions of our lives, and recommends our kissing the ground every morning at the feet of our guardian angel, should consider it unlawful for us to communicate with our departed relatives. i cannot see the difference in iniquity between speaking to john powles, who was and is a dear and trusted friend of mine, and saint peter of alcantara, who is an old man whom i never saw in this life. they were both men, both mortal, and are both spirits. again, surely my mother who was a pious woman all her life, and is now in the other world, would be just as likely to take an interest in my welfare, and to try and promote the prospect of our future meeting, as saint veronica guiliani, who is my patron. yet were i to spend half my time in prayer before saint veronica's altar, asking her help and guidance, i should be doing right (according to the church), but if i did the same thing at my mother's grave, or spoke to her at a _séance_, i should be doing wrong. these distinctions without a difference were hard nuts to crack, and i was bound to settle the matter with my conscience before i went on with my investigations. it is a fact that i have met quite as many catholics as protestants (especially of the higher classes) amongst the investigators of spiritualism, and i have not been surprised at it, for who could better understand and appreciate the beauty of communications from the spirit world than members of that church which instructs us to believe in the communion of saints, as an ever-present, though invisible mystery. whether my catholic acquaintances had received permission to attend _séances_ or not, was no concern of mine, but i took good care to procure it for myself, and i record it here, because rumors have constantly reached me of people having said behind my back that i can be "no catholic" because i am a spiritualist. my director at that time was father dalgairn, of the oratory at brompton, and it was to him i took my difficulty. i was a very constant press writer and reviewer, and to be unable to attend and report on spiritualistic meetings would have seriously militated against my professional interests. i represented this to the father, and (although under protest) i received his permission to pursue the research in the cause of science. he did more than ease my conscience. he became interested in what i had to tell him on the subject, and we had many conversations concerning it. he also lent me from his own library the lives of such saints as had heard voices and seen visions, of those in fact who (like myself) had been the victims of "optical illusions." amongst these i found the case of saint anne-catherine of emmerich, so like my own, that i began to think that i too might turn out to be a saint in disguise. it has not come to pass yet, but there is no knowing what may happen. she used to see the spirits floating beside her as she walked to mass, and heard them asking her to pray for them as they pointed to "les taches sur leurs robes." the musical instruments used to play without hands in her presence, and voices from invisible throats sound in her ears, as they have done in mine. i have only inserted this clause, however, for the satisfaction of those catholic acquaintances with whom i have sat at _séances_, and who will probably be the first to exclaim against the publication of _our_ joint experiences. i trust they will acknowledge, after reading it, that i am not worse than themselves, though i may be a little bolder in avowing my opinions. before i began this chapter, i had an argument with that friend of mine called self (who has but too often worsted me in the battle of life), as to whether i should say anything about table-rapping or tilting. the very fact of so common an article of furniture as a table, as an agent of communication with the unseen world, has excited so much ridicule and opens so wide a field for chicanery, that i thought it would be wiser to drop the subject, and confine myself to those phases of the science or art, or religion, or whatever the reader may like to call it, that can be explained or described on paper. the philosophers of the nineteenth century have invented so many names for the cause that makes a table turn round--tilt--or rap--that i feel quite unable (not being a philosopher) to cope with them. it is "magnetic force" or "psychic force,"--it is "unconscious cerebration" or "brain-reading"--and it is exceedingly difficult to tell the outside world of the private reasons that convince individuals that the answers they receive are _not_ emanations from their own brains. i shall not attempt to refute their reasonings from their own standpoint. i see the difficulties in the way, so much so that i have persistently refused for many years past to sit at the table with strangers, for it is only a lengthened study of the matter that can possibly convince a person of its truth. i cannot, however, see the extreme folly myself of holding communication (under the circumstances) through the raps or tilts of a table, or any other object. these tiny indications of an influence ulterior to our own are not necessarily confined to a table. i have received them through a cardboard box, a gentleman's hat, a footstool, the strings of a guitar, and on the back of my chair, even on the pillow of my bed. and which, amongst the philosophers i have alluded to, could suggest a simpler mode of communication? i have put the question to clever men thus: "suppose yourself, after having been able to write and talk to me, suddenly deprived of the powers of speech and touch, and made invisible, so that we could not understand each other by signs, what better means than by taps or tilts on any article, when the right word or letter is named, could you think of by which to communicate with me?" and my clever men have never been able to propose an easier or more sensible plan, and if anybody can suggest one, i should very much like to hear of it. the following incidents all took place through the much-ridiculed tipping of the table, but managed to knock some sense out of it nevertheless. on looking over the note book which i faithfully kept when we first held _séances_ at home, i find many tests of identity which took place through my own mediumship, and which could not possibly have been the effects of thought-reading. i devote this chapter to their relation. i hope it will be observed with what admirable caution i have headed it. i have a few drops of scotch blood in me by the mother's side, and i think they must have aided me here. "curious coincidences." why, not the most captious and unbelieving critic of them all can find fault with so modest and unpretending a title. everyone believes in the occasional possibility of "curious coincidences." it was not until the month of june, , that we formed a home circle, and commenced regularly to sit together. we became so interested in the pursuit, that we used to sit every evening, and sometimes till three and four o'clock in the morning, greatly to our detriment, both mental and physical. we seldom sat alone, being generally joined by two or three friends from outside, and the results were sometimes very startling, as we were a strong circle. the memoranda of these sittings, sometimes with one party and sometimes with another, extend over a period of years, but i shall restrict myself to relating a few incidents that were verified by subsequent events. the means by which we communicated with the influences around us was the usual one. we sat round the table and laid our hands upon it, and i (or anyone who might be selected for the purpose) spelled over the alphabet, and raps or tilts occurred when the desired letter was reached. this in reality is not so tedious a process as it may appear, and once used to it, one may get through a vast amount of conversation in an hour by this means. a medium is soon able to guess the word intended to be spelt, for there are not so many after all in use in general conversation. some one had come to our table on several occasions, giving the name of "valerie," but refusing to say any more, so we thought she was an idle or frivolous spirit, and had been in the habit of driving her away. one evening, on the st of july, however, our circle was augmented by mr. henry stacke, when "valerie" was immediately spelled out, and the following conversation ensued. mr. stacke said to me, "who is this?" and i replied carelessly, "o! she's a little devil! she never has anything to say." the table rocked violently at this, and the taps spelled out. "je ne suis pas diable." "hullo! valerie, so you can talk now! for whom do you come?" "monsieur stacke." "where did you meet him?" "on the continent." "whereabouts?" "between dijon and macon." "how did you meet him?" "in a railway carriage." "what where you doing there?" here she relapsed into french, and said, "ce m'est impossible de dire." at this juncture mr. stacke observed that he had never been in a train between dijon and macon but once in his life, and if the spirit was with him then, she must remember what was the matter with their fellow-passenger. "mais oui, oui--il etait fou," she replied, which proved to be perfectly correct. mr. stacke also remembered that two ladies in the same carriage had been terribly frightened, and he had assisted them to get into another. "valerie" continued, "priez pour moi." "pourquoi, valerie?" "parce que j'ai beaucoup péché." there was an influence who frequented our society at that time and called himself "charlie." he stated that his full name had been "stephen charles bernard abbot,"--that he had been a monk of great literary attainments--that he had embraced the monastic life in the reign of queen mary, and apostatized for political reasons in that of elizabeth, and been "earth bound" in consequence ever since. "charlie" asked us to sing one night, and we struck up the very vulgar refrain of "champagne charlie," to which he greatly objected, asking for something more serious. i began, "ye banks and braes o' bonnie doon." "why, that's as bad as the other," said charlie. "it was a ribald and obscene song in the reign of elizabeth. the drunken roysterers used to sing it in the street as they rolled home at night." "you must be mistaken, charlie! it's a well-known scotch air." "it's no more scotch than i am," he replied. "the scotch say they invented everything. it's a tune of the time of elizabeth. ask brinley richards." having the pleasure of the acquaintance of that gentleman, who was the great authority on the origin of national ballads, i applied to him for the information, and received an answer to say that "charlie" was right, but that mr. richards had not been aware of the fact himself until he had searched some old mss. in the british museum for the purpose of ascertaining the truth. i was giving a sitting once to an officer from aldershot, a cousin of my own, who was quite prepared to ridicule every thing that took place. after having teased me into giving him a _séance_, he began by cheating himself, and then accused me of cheating him, and altogether tired out my patience. at last i proposed a test, though with little hope of success. "let us ask john powles to go down to aldershot," i said, "and bring us word what your brother officers are doing." "o, yes! by jove! capital idea! here! you fellow powles, cut off to the camp, will you, and go to the barracks of the th, and let us know what major r---- is doing." the message came back in about three minutes. "major r---- has just come in from duty," spelt out powles. "he is sitting on the side of his bed, changing his uniform trousers for a pair of grey tweed." "i'm sure that's wrong," said my cousin, "because the men are never called out at this time of the day." it was then four o'clock, as we had been careful to ascertain. my cousin returned to camp the same evening, and the next day i received a note from him to say, "that fellow powles is a brick. it was quite right. r---- was unexpectedly ordered to turn out his company yesterday afternoon, and he returned to barracks and changed his things for the grey tweed suit exactly at four o'clock." but i have always found my friend powles (when he _will_ condescend to do anything for strangers, which is seldom) remarkably correct in detailing the thoughts and actions of absentees, sometimes on the other side of the globe. i went one afternoon to pay an ordinary social call on a lady named mrs. w----, and found her engaged in an earnest conversation on spiritualism with a stout woman and a commonplace man--two as material looking individuals as ever i saw, and who appeared all the more so under a sultry august sun. as soon as mrs. w---- saw me, she exclaimed, "o! here is mrs. ross-church. she will tell you all about the spirits. do, mrs. ross-church, sit down at the table and let us have a _séance_." a _séance_ on a burning, blazing afternoon in august, with two stolid and uninteresting, and worse still, _uninterested_ looking strangers, who appeared to think mrs. w---- had a "bee in her bonnet." i protested--i reasoned--i pleaded--all in vain. my hostess continued to urge, and society places the guest at the mercy of her hostess. so, in an evil temper, i pulled off my gloves, and placed my hands indifferently on the table. the following words were at once rapped out-- "i am edward g----. did you ever pay johnson the seventeen pounds twelve you received for my saddlery?" the gentleman opposite to me turned all sorts of colors, and began to stammer out a reply, whilst his wife looked very confused. i asked the influence, "who are you?" it replied, "_he_ knows! his late colonel! why hasn't johnson received that money?" this is what i call an "awkward" coincidence, and i have had many such occur through me--some that have driven acquaintances away from the table, vowing vengeance against me, and racking their brains to discover _who_ had told me of their secret peccadilloes. the gentleman in question (whose name even i do not remember) confessed that the identity and main points of the message were true, but he did _not_ confide to us whether johnson had ever received that seventeen pounds twelve. i had a beautiful english greyhound, called "clytie," a gift from annie thomas to me, and this dog was given to straying from my house in colville road, bayswater, which runs parallel to portobello road, a rather objectionable quarter, composed of inferior shops, one of which, a fried fish shop, was an intolerable nuisance, and used to fill the air around with its rich perfume. on one occasion "clytie" stayed away from home so much longer than usual, that i was afraid she was lost in good earnest, and posted bills offering a reward for her. "charlie" came to the table that evening and said, "don't offer a reward for the dog. send for her." "where am i to send?" i asked. "she is tied up at the fried fish shop in portobello road. send the cook to see." i told the servant in question that i had heard the greyhound was detained at the fish shop, and sent her to inquire. she returned with "clytie." her account was, that on making inquiries, the man in the shop had been very insolent to her, and she had raised her voice in reply; that she had then heard and recognized the sharp, peculiar bark of the greyhound from an upper storey, and, running up before the man could prevent her, she had found "clytie" tied up to a bedstead with a piece of rope, and had called in a policeman to enable her to take the dog away. i have often heard the assertion that spiritualism is of no practical good, and, doubtless, it was never intended to be so, but this incident was, at least, an exception to the rule. when abroad, on one occasion, i was asked by a catholic abbé to sit with him. he had never seen any manifestations before, and he did not believe in them, but he was curious on the subject. i knew nothing of him further than that he was a priest, and a jesuit, and a great friend of my sister's, at whose house i was staying. he spoke english, and the conversation was carried on in that language. he had told me beforehand that if he could receive a perfectly private test, that he should never doubt the truth of the manifestations again. i left him, therefore, to conduct the investigation entirely by himself, i acting only as the medium between him and the influence. as soon as the table moved he put his question direct, without asking who was there to answer it. "where is my chasuble?" now a priest's chasuble, _i_ should have said, must be either hanging in the sacristy or packed away at home, or been sent away to be altered or mended. but the answer was wide of all my speculations. "at the bottom of the red sea." the priest started, but continued-- "who put it there?" "elias dodo." "what was his object in doing so?" "he found the parcel a burthen, and did not expect any reward for delivering it." the abbé really looked as if he had encountered the devil. he wiped the perspiration from his forehead, and put one more question. "of what was my chasuble made?" "your sister's wedding dress." the priest then explained to me that his sister had made him a chasuble out of her wedding dress--one of the forms of returning thanks in the church, but that after a while it became old fashioned, and the bishop, going his rounds, ordered him to get another. he did not like to throw away his sister's gift, so he decided to send the old chasuble to a priest in india, where they are very poor, and not so particular as to fashion. he confided the packet to a man called elias dodo, a sufficiently singular name, but neither he nor the priest he sent it to had ever heard anything more of the chasuble, or the man who promised to deliver it. a young artist of the name of courtney was a visitor at my house. he asked me to sit with him alone, when the table began rapping out a number of consonants--a farrago of nonsense, it appeared to me, and i stopped and said so. but mr. courtney, who appeared much interested, begged me to proceed. when the communication was finished, he said to me, "this is the most wonderful thing i have ever heard. my father has been at the table talking to me in welsh. he has told me our family motto, and all about my birth-place and relations in wales." i said, "i never heard you were a welshman." "yes! i am," he replied, "my real name is powell. i have only adopted the name of courtney for professional purposes." this was all news to me, but had it not been, _i cannot speak welsh_. i could multiply such cases by the dozen, but that i fear to tire my readers, added to which the majority of them were of so strictly private a nature that it would be impossible to put them into print. this is perhaps the greatest drawback that one encounters in trying to prove the truth of spiritualism. the best tests we receive are when the very secrets of our hearts, which we have not confided to our nearest friends, are revealed to us. i could relate (had i the permission of the persons most interested) the particulars of a well-known law suit, in which the requisite evidence, and names and addresses of witnesses, were all given though my mediumship, and were the cause of the case being gained by the side that came to me for "information." some of the coincidences i have related in this chapter might, however, be ascribed by the sceptical to the mysterious and unknown power of brain reading, whatever that may be, and however it may come, apart from mediumship, but how is one to account for the facts i shall tell you in my next chapter. chapter iv. embodied spirits. i was having a sitting one day in my own house with a lady friend, named miss clark, when a female spirit came to the table and spelt out the name "tiny." "who are you?" i asked, "and for whom do you come?" "i am a friend of major m----" (mentioning the full name), "and i want your help." "are you any relation to major m----?" "i am the mother of his child." "what do you wish me to do for you?" "tell him he must go down to portsmouth and look after my daughter. he has not seen her for years. the old woman is dead, and the man is a drunkard. she is falling into evil courses. he must save her from them." "what is your real name?" "i will not give it. there is no need. he always called me 'tiny.'" "how old is your daughter." "nineteen! her name is emily! i want her to be married. tell him to promise her a wedding trousseau. it may induce her to marry." the influence divulged a great deal more on the subject which i cannot write down here. it was an account of one of those cruel acts of seduction by which a young girl had been led into trouble in order to gratify a man's selfish lust, and astonished both miss clark and myself, who had never heard of such a person as "tiny" before. it was too delicate a matter for me to broach to major m---- (who was a married man, and an intimate friend of mine), but the spirit came so many times and implored me so earnestly to save her daughter, that at last i ventured to repeat the communication to him. he was rather taken aback, but confessed it was true, and that the child, being left to his care, had been given over to the charge of some common people at portsmouth, and he had not enquired after it for some time past. neither had he ever heard of the death of the mother, who had subsequently married, and had a family. he instituted inquiries, however, at once, and found the statement to be quite true, and that the girl emily, being left with no better protection than that of the drunken old man, had actually gone astray, and not long after she was had up at the police court for stabbing a soldier in a public-house--a fit ending for the unfortunate offspring of a man's selfish passions. but the strangest part of the story to the uninitiated will lie in the fact that the woman whose spirit thus manifested itself to two utter strangers, who knew neither her history nor her name, was at the time _alive_, and living with her husband and family, as major m---- took pains to ascertain. and now i have something to say on the subject of communicating with the spirits of persons still in the flesh. this will doubtless appear the most incomprehensible and fanatical assertion of all, that we wear our earthly garb so loosely, that the spirits of people still living in this world can leave the body and manifest themselves either visibly or orally to others in their normal condition. and yet it is a fact that spirits have so visited myself (as in the case i have just recorded), and given me information of which i had not the slightest previous idea. the matter has been explained to me after this fashion--that it is not really the spirit of the living person who communicates, but the spirit, or "control," that is nearest to him: in effect what the church calls his "guardian angel," and that this guardian angel, who knows his inmost thoughts and desires better even than he knows them himself, is equally capable of speaking in his name. this idea of the matter may shift the marvel from one pair of shoulders to another, but it does not do away with it. if i can receive information of events before they occur (as i will prove that i have), i present a nut for the consideration of the public jaw, which even the scientists will find difficult to crack. it was at one time my annual custom to take my children to the sea-side, and one summer, being anxious to ascertain how far the table could be made to act without the aid of "unconscious cerebration," i arranged with my friends, mr. helmore and mrs. colnaghi, who had been in the habit of sitting with us at home, that _we_ should continue to sit at the sea-side on tuesday evenings as theretofore, and _they_ should sit in london on the thursdays, when i would try to send them messages through "charlie," the spirit i have already mentioned as being constantly with us. the first tuesday my message was, "ask them how they are getting on without us," which was faithfully delivered at their table on the following thursday. the return message from them which "charlie" spelled out for us on the second tuesday, was: "tell her london is a desert without her," to which i emphatically, if not elegantly, answered, "fiddle-de-dee!" a few days afterwards i received a letter from mr. helmore, in which he said, "i am afraid 'charlie' is already tired of playing at postman, for to all our questions about you last thursday, he would only rap out, 'fiddle-de-dee.'" the circumstance to which this little episode is but an introduction happened a few days later. mr. colnaghi and mr. helmore, sitting together as usual on thursday evening, were discussing the possibility of summoning the spirits of _living persons_ to the table, when "charlie" rapped three times to intimate they could. "will you fetch some one for us, charlie?" "yes." "whom will you bring?" "mrs. ross-church." "how long will it take you to do so?" "fifteen minutes." it was in the middle of the night when i must have been fast asleep, and the two young men told me afterwards that they waited the results of their experiment with much trepidation, wondering (i suppose) if i should be conveyed bodily into their presence and box their ears well for their impertinence. exactly fifteen minutes afterwards, however, the table was violently shaken and the words were spelt out. "i am mrs. ross-church. how _dared_ you send for me?" they were very penitent (or they said they were), but they described my manner as most arbitrary, and said i went on repeating, "let me go back! let me go back! there is a great danger hanging over my children! i must go back to my children!" (and here i would remark _par parenthèse_, and in contradiction of the guardian angel theory, that i have always found that whilst the spirits of the departed come and go as they feel inclined, the spirits of the living invariably _beg_ to be sent back again or permitted to go, as if they were chained by the will of the medium.) on this occasion i was so positive that i made a great impression on my two friends, and the next day mr. helmore sent me a cautiously worded letter to find out if all was well with us at charmouth, but without disclosing the reason for his curiosity. the _facts_ are, that on the morning of _friday_, the day _after_ the _séance_ in london, my seven children and two nurses were all sitting in a small lodging-house room, when my brother-in-law, dr. henry norris, came in from ball practice with the volunteers, and whilst exhibiting his rifle to my son, accidentally discharged it in the midst of them, the ball passing through the wall within two inches of my eldest daughter's head. when i wrote the account of this to mr. helmore, he told me of my visit to london and the words i had spelt out on the occasion. but how did i know of the occurrence the _night before_ it took place? and if i--being asleep and unconscious--did _not_ know of it, "charlie" must have done so. my ærial visits to my friends, however, whilst my body was in quite another place, have been made still more palpable than this. once, when living in the regent's park, i passed a very terrible and painful night. grief and fear kept me awake most of the time, and the morning found me exhausted with the emotion i had gone through. about eleven o'clock there walked in, to my surprise, mrs. fitzgerald (better known as a medium under her maiden name of bessie williams), who lived in the goldhawk road, shepherd's bush. "i couldn't help coming to you," she commenced, "for i shall not be easy until i know how you are after the terrible scene you have passed through." i stared at her. "whom have you seen?" i asked. "who has told you of it?" "yourself," she replied. "i was waked up this morning between two and three o'clock by the sound of sobbing and crying in the front garden. i got out of bed and opened the window, and then i saw you standing on the grass plat in your night-dress and crying bitterly. i asked you what was the matter, and you told me so and so, and so and so." and here followed a detailed account of all that had happened in my own house on the other side of london, with the _very words_ that had been used, and every action that had happened. i had seen no one and spoken to no one between the occurrence and the time mrs. fitzgerald called upon me. if her story was untrue, _who_ had so minutely informed her of a circumstance which it was to the interest of all concerned to keep to themselves? when i first joined mr. d'oyley carte's "patience" company in the provinces, to play the part of "lady jane," i understood i was to have four days' rehearsal. however, the lady whom i succeeded, hearing i had arrived, took herself off, and the manager requested i would appear the same night of my arrival. this was rather an ordeal to an artist who had never sung on the operatic stage before, and who was not note perfect. however, as a matter of obligation, i consented to do my best, but i was very nervous. at the end of the second act, during the balloting scene, lady jane has to appear suddenly on the stage, with the word "away!" i forget at this distance of time whether i made a mistake in pitching the note a third higher or lower. i know it was not out of harmony, but it was sufficiently wrong to send the chorus astray, and bring my heart up into my mouth. it never occurred after the first night, but i never stood at the wings again waiting for that particular entrance but i "girded my loins together," as it were, with a kind of dread lest i should repeat the error. after a while i perceived a good deal of whispering about me in the company, and i asked poor federici (who played the colonel) the reason of it, particularly as he had previously asked me to stand as far from him as i could upon the stage, as i magnetized him so strongly that he couldn't sing if i was near him. "well! do you know," he said to me in answer, "that a very strange thing occurs occasionally with reference to you, miss marryat. while you are standing on the stage sometimes, you appear seated in the stalls. several people have seen it beside myself. i assure you it is true." "but _when_ do you see me?" i enquired with amazement. "it's always at the same time," he answered, "just before you run on at the end of the second act. of course it's only an appearance, but it's very queer." i told him then of the strange feelings of distrust of myself i experienced each night at that very moment, when my spirit seems to have preceded myself upon the stage. i had a friend many years ago in india, who (like many other friends) had permitted time and separation to come between us, and alienate us from each other. i had not seen him nor heard from him for eleven years, and to all appearance our friendship was at an end. one evening the medium i have alluded to above, mrs. fitzgerald, who was a personal friend of mine, was at my house, and after dinner she put her feet up on the sofa--a very unusual thing for her--and closed her eyes. she and i were quite alone in the drawing-room, and after a little while i whispered softly, "bessie, are you asleep?" the answer came from her control "dewdrop," a wonderfully sharp red indian girl. "no! she's in a trance. there's somebody coming to speak to you! i don't want him to come. he'll make the medium ill. but it's no use. i see him creeping round the corner now." "but why should it make her ill?" i argued, believing we were about to hold an ordinary _séance_. "because he's a _live_ one, he hasn't passed over yet," replied dewdrop, "and live ones always make my medium feel sick. but it's no use. i can't keep him out. he may as well come. but don't let him stay long." "who is he, dewdrop?" i demanded curiously. "_i_ don't know! guess _you_ will! he's an old friend of yours, and his name is george." whereupon bessie fitzgerald laid back on the sofa cushions, and dewdrop ceased to speak. it was some time before there was any result. the medium tossed and turned, and wiped the perspiration from her forehead, and pushed back her hair, and beat up the cushions and threw herself back upon them with a sigh, and went through all the pantomime of a man trying to court sleep in a hot climate. presently she opened her eyes and glanced languidly around her. her unmistakable actions and the name "george" (which was that of my friend, then resident in india) had naturally aroused my suspicions as to the identity of the influence, and when bessie opened her eyes, i asked softly, "george, is that you?" at the sound of my voice the medium started violently and sprung into a sitting posture, and then, looking all round the room in a scared manner, she exclaimed, "where am i? who brought me here?" then catching sight of me, she continued, "mrs. ross-church!--florence! is this _your_ room? o! let me go! _do_ let me go!" this was not complimentary, to say the least of it, from a friend whom i had not met for eleven years, but now that i had got him i had no intention of letting him go, until i was convinced of his identity. but the terror of the spirit at finding himself in a strange place seemed so real and uncontrollable that i had the greatest difficulty in persuading him to stay, even for a few minutes. he kept on reiterating, "who brought me here? i did not wish to come. do let me go back. i am so very cold" (shivering convulsively), "so very, _very_ cold." "answer me a few questions," i said, "and then you shall go. do you know who i am?" "yes, yes, you are florence." "and what is your name?" he gave it at full length. "and do you care for me still?" "very much. but let me go." "in a minute. why do you never write to me?" "there are reasons. i am not a free agent. it is better as it is." "i don't think so. i miss your letters very much. shall i ever hear from you again?" "yes!" "and see you?" "yes; but not yet. let me go now. i don't wish to stay. you are making me very unhappy." if i could describe the fearful manner in which, during this conversation, he glanced every moment at the door, like a man who is afraid of being discovered in a guilty action, it would carry with it to my readers, as it did to me, the most convincing proof that the medium's body was animated by a totally different influence from her own. i kept the spirit under control until i had fully convinced myself that he knew everything about our former friendship and his own present surroundings; and then i let him fly back to india, and wondered if he would wake up the next morning and imagine he had been laboring under nightmare. these experiences with the spirits of the living are certainly amongst the most curious i have obtained. on more than one occasion, when i have been unable to extract the truth of a matter from my acquaintances i have sat down alone, as soon as i believed them to be asleep, and summoned their spirits to the table and compelled them to speak out. little have they imagined sometimes how i came to know things which they had scrupulously tried to hide from me. i have heard that the power to summons the spirits of the living is not given to all media, but i have always possessed it. i can do so when they are awake as well as when they are asleep, though it is not so easy. a gentleman once _dared_ me to do this with him, and i only conceal his name because i made him look ridiculous. i waited till i knew he was engaged at a dinner-party, and then about nine o'clock in the evening i sat down and summoned him to come to me. it was some little time before he obeyed, and when he did come, he was eminently sulky. i got a piece of paper and pencil, and from his dictation i wrote down the number and names of the guests at the dinner-table, also the dishes of which he had partaken, and then in pity for his earnest entreaties i let him go again. "you are making me ridiculous," he said, "everyone is laughing at me." "but why? what are you doing?" i urged. "i am standing by the mantel-piece, and i have fallen fast asleep," he answered. the next morning he came pell-mell into my presence. "what did you do to me last night?" he demanded. "i was at the watts philips, and after dinner i went fast asleep with my head upon my hand, standing by the mantel-piece, and they were all trying to wake me and couldn't. have you been playing any of your tricks upon me?" "i only made you do what you declared i couldn't," i replied. "how did you like the white soup and the turbot, and the sweetbreads, etc., etc." he opened his eyes at my nefariously obtained knowledge, and still more when i produced the paper written from his dictation. this is not a usual custom of mine--it would not be interesting enough to pursue as a custom--but i am a dangerous person to _dare_ to do anything. the old friend whose spirit visited me through mrs. fitzgerald had lost a sister to whom he was very tenderly attached before he made my acquaintance, and i knew little of her beyond her name. one evening, not many months after the interview with him which i have recorded, a spirit came to me, giving the name of my friend's sister, with this message, "my brother has returned to england, and would like to know your address. write to him to the club, leamington, and tell him where to find you." i replied, "your brother has not written to me, nor inquired after me for the last eleven years. he has lost all interest in me, and i cannot be the first to write to him, unless i am sure that he wishes it." "he has _not_ lost all interest in you," said the spirit; "he thinks of you constantly, and i hear him pray for you. he wishes to hear from you." "that may be true," i replied, "but i cannot accept it on your authority. if your brother really wishes to renew our acquaintance, let him write and tell me so." "he does not know your address, and i cannot get near enough to him to influence him." "then things must remain as they are," i replied somewhat testily. "i am a public person. he can find out my address, if he chooses to do so." the spirit seemed to reflect for a moment; then she rapped out, "wait, and i will fetch my brother. he shall come here himself and tell you what he thinks about it." in a short time there was a different movement of the table, and the name of my old friend was given. after we had exchanged a few words, and i had told him i required a test of his identity, he asked me to get a pencil and paper, and write from his dictation. i did as he requested, and he dictated the following sentence, "long time, indeed, has passed since the days you call to mind, but time, however long, does not efface the past. it has never made me cease to think of and pray for you as i felt you, too, did think of and pray for me. write to the address my sister gave you. i want to hear from you." notwithstanding the perspicuity and apparent genuineness of this message, it was some time before i could make up my mind to follow the directions it gave me. my pride stood in the way to prevent it. _ten days afterwards_, however, having received several more visits from the sister, i did as she desired me, and sent a note to her brother to the leamington club. the answer came by return of post, and contained (amongst others) _the identical words_ he had told me to write down. will mr. stuart cumberland, or any other clever man, explain to me _what_ or _who_ it was that had visited me ten days beforehand, and dictated words which could hardly have been in my correspondent's brain before he received my letter? i am ready to accept any reasonable explanation of the matter from the scientists, philosophers, chemists, or arguists of the world, and i am open to conviction, when my sense convinces me, that their reasoning is true. but my present belief is, that not a single man or woman will be found able to account on any ordinary grounds for such an extraordinary instance of "unconscious cerebration." being subject to "optical illusions," i naturally had several with regard to my spirit child, "florence," and she always came to me clothed in a white dress. one night, however, when i was living alone in the regent's park, i saw "florence" (as i imagined) standing in the centre of the room, dressed in a green riding habit slashed with orange color, with a cavalier hat of grey felt on her head, ornamented with a long green feather and a gold buckle. she stood with her back to me, but i could see her profile as she looked over her shoulder, with the skirt of her habit in her hand. this being a most extraordinary attire in which to see "florence," i felt curious on the subject, and the next day i questioned her about it. "florence!" i said, "why did you come to me last night in a green riding habit?" "i did not come to you last night, mother! it was my sister eva." "good heavens!" i exclaimed, "is anything wrong with her?" "no! she is quite well." "how could she come to me then?" "she did not come in reality, but her thoughts were much with you, and so you saw her spirit clairvoyantly." my daughter eva, who was on the stage, was at that time fulfilling a stock engagement in glasgow, and very much employed. i had not heard from her for a fortnight, which was a most unusual occurrence, and i had begun to feel uneasy. this vision made me more so, and i wrote at once to ask her if all was as it should be. her answer was to this effect: "i am so sorry i have had no time to write to you this week, but i have been so awfully busy. we play 'the colleen bawn' here next week, and i have had to get my dress ready for 'anne chute.' it's so effective. i wish you could see it. _a green habit slashed with orange, and a grey felt hat with a long green feather and a big gold buckle._ i tried it on the other night, and it looked so nice, etc., etc." well, my darling girl had had her wish, and i _had_ seen it. chapter v. optical illusions. as i have alluded to what my family termed my "optical illusions," i think it as well to describe a few of them, which appeared by the context to be something more than a mere temporary disturbance of my visual organs. i will pass over such as might be traced, truly or otherwise, to physical causes, and confine myself to those which were subsequently proved to be the reflection of something that, unknown to me, had gone before. in i was much engaged in giving dramatic readings in different parts of the country, and i visited dublin for the first time in my life, for that purpose, and put up at the largest and best-frequented hotel there. through the hospitality of the residents and the duties of my professional business, i was engaged both day and night, and when i _did_ get to bed, i had every disposition to sleep, as the saying is, like a "top." but there was something in the hotel that would not let me do so. i had a charming bedroom, cheerful, bright and pretty, and replete with every comfort, and i would retire to rest "dead beat," and fall off to sleep at once, to be waked perhaps half-a-dozen times a night by that inexplicable something (or nothing) that rouses me whenever i am about to enjoy an "optical illusion," and to see figures, sometimes one, sometimes two or three, sometimes a whole group standing by my bedside and gazing at me with looks of the greatest astonishment, as much as to ask what right i had to be there. but the most remarkable part of the matter to me was, that all the figures were those of men, and military men, to whom i was too well accustomed to be able to mistake. some were officers and others soldiers, some were in uniform, others in undress, but they all belonged to the army, and they all seemed to labor under the same feeling of intense surprise at seeing _me_ in the hotel. these apparitions were so life-like and appeared so frequently, that i grew quite uncomfortable about them, for however much one may be used to see "optical illusions," it is not pleasant to fancy there are about twenty strangers gazing at one every night as one lies asleep. spiritualism is, or was, a tabooed subject in dublin, and i had been expressly cautioned not to mention it before my new acquaintances. however, i could not keep entire silence on this subject, and dining _en famille_ one day, with a hospitable family of the name of robinson, i related to them my nightly experiences at the hotel. father, mother, and son exclaimed simultaneously. "good gracious," they said, "don't you know that that hotel was built on the site of the old barracks? the house immediately behind it, which formed part of the old building, was vacated by its last tenants on account of its being haunted. every evening at the hour the soldiers used to be marched up to bed, they heard the tramp, tramp, tramp of the feet ascending the staircase." "that may be," i replied, "but they _knew_ their house stood on the site of the barracks, and _i didn't_." my eldest daughter was spending a holiday with me once after my second marriage, and during the month of august. she had been very much overworked, and i made her lie in bed till noon. one morning i had been to her room at that hour to wake her, and on turning to leave it (in the broad daylight, remember), i encountered a man on the landing outside her door. he was dressed in a white shirt with black studs down the front, and a pair of black cloth trousers. he had dark hair and eyes, and small features; altogether, he struck me as having rather a sinister and unpleasant appearance. i stood still, with the open door in my hand, and gazed at him. he looked at me also for a minute, and then turned and walked upstairs to an upper storey where the nursery was situated, beckoning me, with a jerk of his hand, to follow him. my daughter (remarking a peculiar expression in my eyes, which i am told they assume on such occasions) said, "mother! what do you see?" "only a spirit," i answered, "and he has gone upstairs." "now, what _is_ the good of seeing them in that way," said eva, rather impatiently (for this dear child always disliked and avoided spiritualism), and i was fain to confess that i really did _not_ know the especial good of encountering a sinister-looking gentleman in shirt and trousers, on a blazing noon in august. after which the circumstance passed from my mind, until recalled again. a few months later i had occasion to change the children's nurse, and the woman who took her place was an icelandic girl named margaret thommassen, who had only been in england for three weeks. i found that she had been educated far above the average run of domestic servants, and was well acquainted with the writings of swedenborg and other authors. one day as i walked up the nursery stairs to visit the children in bed, i encountered the same man i had seen outside my daughter's room, standing on the upper landing, as though waiting my approach. he was dressed as before, but this time his arms were folded across his breast and his face downcast, as though he were unhappy about something. he disappeared as i reached the landing, and i mentioned the circumstance to no one. a few days later, margaret thommassen asked me timidly if i believed in the possibility of the spirits of the departed returning to this earth. when i replied that i did, she appeared overjoyed, and said she had never hoped to find anyone in england to whom she could speak about it. she then gave me a mass of evidence on the subject which forms a large part of the religion of the icelanders. she told me that she felt uneasy about her eldest brother, to whom she was strongly attached. he had left iceland a year before to become a waiter in germany, and had promised faithfully that so long as he lived she should hear from him every month, and when he failed to write she must conclude he was dead. margaret told me she had heard nothing from him now for three months, and each night when the nursery light was put out, someone came and sat at the foot of her bed and sighed. she then produced his photograph, and to my astonishment i recognized at once the man who had appeared to me some months before i knew that such a woman as margaret thommassen existed. he was taken in a shirt and trousers, just as i had seen him, and wore the same repulsive (to me) and sinister expression. i then told his sister that i had already seen him twice in that house, and she grew very excited and anxious to learn the truth. in consequence i sat with her in hopes of obtaining some news of her brother, who immediately came to the table, and told her that he was dead, with the circumstances under which he had died, and the address where she was to write to obtain particulars. and on margaret thommassen writing as she was directed, she obtained the practical proofs of her brother's death, without which this story would be worthless. my sister cecil lives with her family in somerset, and many years ago i went down there to visit her for the first time since she had moved into a new house which i had never seen before. she put me to sleep in the guest chamber, a large, handsome room, just newly furnished by oetzmann. but i could not sleep in it. the very first night some one walked up and down the room, groaning and sighing close to my ears, and he, she, or it especially annoyed me by continually touching the new stiff counterpane with a "scrooping" sound that set my teeth on edge, and sent my heart up into my mouth. i kept on saying, "go away! don't come near me!" for its proximity inspired me with a horror and repugnance which i have seldom felt under similar circumstances. i did not say anything at first to my sister, who is rather nervous on the subject of "bogies," but on the third night i could stand it no longer, and told her plainly the room was haunted, and i wished she would put me in her dressing-room, or with her servants, sooner than let me remain there, as i could get no rest. then the truth came out, and she confessed that the last owner of the house had committed suicide in that very room, and showed me the place on the boards, underneath the carpet, where the stain of his blood still remained. a lively sort of room to sleep all alone in. another sister of mine, blanche, used to live in a haunted house in bruges, of which a description will be found in the chapter headed, "the story of the monk." long, however, before the monk was heard of, i could not sleep in her house on account of the disturbances in my room, for which my sister used to laugh at me. but even when my husband, colonel lean, and i stayed there together, it was much the same. one night i waked him to see the figure of a woman, who had often visited me, standing at the foot of the bed. she was quaintly attired in a sort of leathern boddice or jerkin, laced up the front over a woollen petticoat of some dark color. she wore a cap of mechlin lace, with the large flaps at the side, adopted by flemish women to this day; her hair was combed tightly off her forehead, and she wore a profusion of gold ornaments. my husband could describe her as vividly as i did, which proves how plainly the apparition must have shown itself. i waked on several occasions to see this woman busy (apparently) with the contents of an old carved oak armoir which stood in a corner of the room, and which, i suppose, must have had something to do with herself. my eldest son joined me at bruges on this occasion. he was a young fellow of twenty, who had never practised, nor even enquired into spiritualism--fresh from sea, and about as free from fear or superstitious fancies as a mortal could be. he was put to sleep in a room on the other side of the house, and i saw from the first that he was grave about it, but i did not ask him the reason, though i felt sure, from personal experience, that he would hear or see something before long. in a few days he came to me and said-- "mother! i'm going to take my mattress into the colonel's dressing-room to-night and sleep there." i asked him why. he replied, "it's impossible to stay in that room any longer. i wouldn't mind if they'd let me sleep, but they won't. there's something walks about half the night, whispering and muttering, and touching the bed-clothes, and though i don't believe in any of your rubbishy spirits, i'll be 'jiggered' if i sleep there any longer." so he was not "jiggered" (whatever that may be), as he refused to enter the room again. i cannot end this chapter more appropriately than by relating a very remarkable case of "optical illusion" which was seen by myself alone. it was in the month of july, , and i had gone down alone to brighton for a week's quiet. i had some important literary work to finish, and the exigencies of the london season made too many demands upon my time. so i packed up my writing materials, and took a lodging all to myself, and set hard to work. i used to write all day and walk in the evening. it was light then till eight or nine o'clock, and the esplanade used to be crowded till a late hour. i was pushing my way, on the evening of the th of july, through the crowd, thinking of my work more than anything else, when i saw, as i fully thought, my step-son, francis lean, leaning with his back against the palings at the edge of the cliff and smiling at me. he was a handsome lad of eighteen who was supposed to have sailed in his ship for the brazils five months before. but he had been a wild young fellow, causing his father much trouble and anxiety, and my first impression was one of great annoyance, thinking naturally that, since i saw him there, he had never sailed at all, but run away from his ship at the last moment. i hastened up to him, therefore, but as i reached his side, he turned round quite methodically, and walked quickly down a flight of steps that led to the beach. i followed him, and found myself amongst a group of ordinary seamen mending their nets, but i could see francis nowhere. i did not know what to make of the occurrence, but it never struck me that it was not either the lad himself or some one remarkably like him. the same night, however, after i had retired to bed in a room that was unpleasantly brilliant with the moonlight streaming in at the window, i was roused from my sleep by someone turning the handle of my door, and there stood francis in his naval uniform, with the peaked cap on his head, smiling at me as he had done upon the cliff. i started up in bed intending to speak to him, when he laid his finger on his lips and faded away. this second vision made me think something must have happened to the boy, but i determined not to say anything to my husband about it until it was verified. shortly after my return to london, we were going, in company with my own son (also a sailor), to see his ship which was lying in the docks, when, as we were driving through poplar, i again saw my stepson francis standing on the pavement, and smiling at me. that time i spoke. i said to colonel lean, "i am sure i saw francis standing there. do you think it is possible he may not have sailed after all?" but colonel lean laughed at the idea. he believed it to be a chance likeness i had seen. only the lad was too good-looking to have many duplicates in this world. we visited the seaside after that, and in september, whilst we were staying at folkestone, colonel lean received a letter to say that his son francis had been drowned by the upsetting of a boat in the surf of the bay of callao, in the brazils, _on the th of july_--the day i had seen him twice in brighton, two months before we heard that he was gone. chapter vi. on scepticism. there are two classes of people who have done more harm to the cause of spiritualism than the testimony of all the scientists has done good, and those are the enthusiasts and the sceptics. the first believe everything they see or hear. without giving themselves the trouble to obtain proofs of the genuineness of the manifestations, they rush impetuously from one acquaintance to the other, detailing their experience with so much exaggeration and such unbounded faith, that they make the absurdity of it patent to all. they are generally people of low intellect, credulous dispositions, and weak nerves. they bow down before the influences as if they were so many little gods descended from heaven, instead of being, as in the majority of instances, spirits a shade less holy than our own, who, for their very shortcomings, are unable to rise above the atmosphere that surrounds this gross and material world. these are the sort of spiritualists whom _punch_ and other comic papers have very justly ridiculed. who does not remember the picture of the afflicted widow, for whom the medium has just called up the departed jones? "jones," she falters, "are you happy?" "much happier than i was down here," growls jones. "o! then you _must_ be in heaven!" "on the contrary, quite the reverse," is the reply. who also has not sat a _séance_ where such people have not made themselves so ridiculous as to bring the cause they profess to adore into contempt and ignominy. yet to allow the words and deeds of fools to affect one's inward and private conviction of a matter would be tantamount to giving up the pursuit of everything in which one's fellow creatures can take a part. the second class to which i alluded--the sceptics--have not done so much injury to spiritualism as the enthusiasts, because they are as a rule, so intensely bigoted and hard-headed, and narrow-minded, that they overdo their protestations, and render them harmless. the sceptic refuses to believe _anything_, because he has found out _one_ thing to be a fraud. if one medium deceives, all the mediums must deceive. if one _séance_ is a failure, none can be successful. if he gains no satisfactory test of the presence of the spirits of the departed, no one has ever gained such a test. now, such reason is neither just nor logical. again, a sceptic fully expects _his_ testimony to be accepted and believed, yet he will never believe any truth on the testimony of another person. and if he is told that, given certain conditions, he can see this or hear the other, he says, "no! i will see it and hear it without any conditions, or else i will proclaim it all a fraud." in like manner, we might say to a savage, on showing him a watch, "if you will keep your eye on those hands, you will see them move round to tell the hours and minutes," and he should reply, "i must put the watch into boiling water--those are my conditions--and if it won't go then, i will not believe it can go at all." i don't mind a man being a sceptic in spiritualism. i don't see how he can help (considering the belief in which we are reared) being a sceptic, until he has proved so strange a matter for himself. but i _do_ object to a man or a woman taking part in a _séance_ with the sole intention of detecting deceit, not _when_ it has happened, but before it has happened--of bringing an argumentative, disputatious mind, full of the idea that it is going to be tricked and humbugged into (perhaps) a private circle who are sitting (like rosa dartle) "simply for information," and scattering all the harmony and good-will about him broadcast. he couldn't do it to a human assembly without breaking up the party. why should he expect to be more kindly welcomed by a spiritual one? i have seen an immense deal of courtesy shown under such circumstances to men whom i should have liked to see kicked downstairs. i have seen them enter a lady's private drawing-room, by invitation, to witness manifestations which were never, under any circumstances, made a means of gain, and have heard them argue, and doubt, and contradict, until they have given their hostess and her friends the lie to their faces. and the world in general would be quite ready to side with these (so-called) gentlemen, not because their word or their wisdom was better worth than that of their fellow guests, but because they protested against the truth of a thing which it had made up its mind to be impossible. i don't mind a sceptic myself, as i said before, but he must be unbiassed, which few sceptics are. as a rule, they have decided the question at issue for themselves before they commence to investigate it. i find that few people outside the pale of spiritualism have heard of the dialectical society, which was a scientific society assembled a few years ago for the sole purpose of enquiring into the truth of the matter. it was composed of forty members,--ten lawyers, ten scientists, ten clergymen, and ten chemists (i think that was the arrangement), and they held forty _séances_, and the published report at the close of them was, that not one of these men of learning and repute could find any natural cause for the wonders he had witnessed. i know that there are a thousand obstacles in the way of belief. the extraordinarily contradictory manner in which protestants are brought up, to believe in one and the same breath that spirits were common visitants to earth at the periods of which the bible treats, but that it is impossible they can return to it now, although the lord is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever. the conditions of darkness for the creation of materialized spirits, and the resemblance they sometimes bear to the medium, are two fearful stumbling-blocks. yet one must know that _all_ things are created in the dark, and that even a seed cannot sprout if you let the light in upon it, while as for the resemblance between the spirit and the medium, from whom it takes the material being that enables it to appear, if investigators would only persevere with their enquiries, they would find, as i have, that that is a disappointment which has its remedy in time. when people call on me to explain such things, i can only say that i know no more how they come than they do, or that i know how _i_ came, a living, sentient creature, into the world. besides (as i have said before), i write these pages to tell only _what i have seen_, and not to argue how it came to pass that i saw it. i have a little story to tell here which powerfully illustrates the foregoing remarks. the lines, "a woman convinced against her will is of the same opinion still," might have been penned with as much truth of sceptics. men who are sceptical, _i.e._, so thoroughly wrapt up in conceit of their powers of judgment and determination that it becomes impossible for them to believe themselves mistaken, will deny the evidence of all their senses sooner than confess they may be in the wrong. such an one may be a clever scientist or a shrewd man of business, but he can never be a genius. for genius is invariably humble of its own powers, and, therefore, open to conviction. but the lesser minds, who are only equal to grasping such details as may have been drummed into them by sheer force of study, appear to have no capability of stretching beyond a certain limit. they are hedged in and cramped by the opinions in which they have been reared, or that they have built up for themselves out of the petty material their brain affords them, and have lost their powers of elasticity. "thus far shalt thou go and no further," seems to be the fiat pronounced on too many men's reasoning faculties. instead of believing the power of god and the resources of nature to be illimitable, they want to keep them within the little circle that encompasses their own brains. "i can't see it, and therefore it cannot be." there was a time when i used to take the trouble to try and convince such men, but i have long ceased to do so. it is quite indifferent to me what they believe or don't believe. and with such minds, even if they _were_ convinced of its possibility, they would probably make no good use of spiritual intercourse. for there is no doubt it can be turned to evil uses as well as to good. some years ago i was on friendly terms with a man of this sort. he was a doctor, accounted clever in his profession, and i knew him to be an able arguist, and thought he had common sense enough not to eat his own words, but the sequel proved that i was mistaken. we had several conversations together on spiritualism, and as dr. h---- was a complete disbeliever in the existence of a god and a future life, i was naturally not surprised to find that he did not place any credence in the account i gave him of my spiritualistic experiences. many medical men attribute such experiences entirely to a diseased condition of mind or body. but when i asked dr. h---- what he should think if he saw them with his own eyes, i confess i was startled to hear him answer that he should say his eyes deceived him. "but if you heard them speak?" i continued. "i should disbelieve my ears." "and if you touched and handled them?" "i should mistrust my sense of feeling." "then by what means," i argued, "do you know that i am florence marryat? you can only see me and hear me and touch me! what is there to prevent your senses misleading you at the present moment?" but to this argument dr. h---- only returned a pitying smile, professing to think me, on this point at least, too feeble-minded to be worthy of reply, but in reality not knowing what on earth to say. he often, however, recurred to the subject of spiritualism, and on several occasions told me that if i could procure him the opportunity of submitting a test which he might himself suggest, he should be very much obliged to me. it was about this time that a young medium named william haxby, now passed away, went to live with mr. and mrs. olive in ainger terrace, and we were invited to attend a _séance_ given by him. mrs. olive, when giving the invitation, informed me that mr. haxby had been very successful in procuring direct writing in sealed boxes, and she asked me, if i wished to try the experiment, to take a secured box, with writing materials in it, to the _séance_, and see what would happen to it. here was, i thought, an excellent opportunity for dr. h----'s test, and i sent for him and told him what had been proposed. i urged him to prepare the test entirely by himself, and to accompany me to the _séance_ and see what occurred,--to all of which he readily consented. indeed, he became quite excited on the subject, being certain it would prove a failure; and in my presence he made the following preparations:-- i. half a sheet of ordinary cream-laid note-paper and half a cedar-wood black lead pencil were placed in a jeweller's cardwood box. ii. the lid of the box was carefully glued down all round to the bottom part. iii. the box was wrapt in white writing paper, which was gummed over it. iv. it was tied eight times with a peculiar kind of silk made for tying up arteries, and the eight knots were knots known to (as dr. h---- informed me) medical men only. v. each of the eight knots was sealed with sealing-wax, and impressed with dr. h----'s crest seal, which he always wore on his watch-chain. vi. the packet was again folded in brown paper, and sealed and tied to preserve the inside from injury. when dr. h---- had finished it, he said to me, "if the spirits (or anybody) can write on that paper without cutting the silk, _i will believe whatever you wish_." i asked, "are you _quite_ sure that the packet could not be undone without your detecting it?" his answer was--"that silk is not to be procured except from a medical man; it is manufactured expressly for the tying of arteries; and the knots i have made are known only to medical men. they are the knots we use in tying arteries. the seal is my own crest, which never leaves my watch-chain, and i defy anyone to undo those knots without cutting them, or to tie them again, if cut. i repeat--if your friends can make, or cause to be made, the smallest mark on that paper, and return me the box in the condition it now is, _i will believe anything you choose_." and i confess i was very dubious of the result myself, and almost sorry that i had subjected the doctor's incredulity to so severe a test. on the evening appointed we attended the _séance_, dr. h---- taking the prepared packet with him. he was directed to place it under his chair, but he tied a string to it and put it under his foot, retaining the other end of the string in his hand. the meeting was not one for favorably impressing an unbeliever in spiritualism. there were too many people present, and too many strangers. the ordinary manifestations, to my mind, are worse than useless, unless they have been preceded by extraordinary ones; so that the doctor returned home more sceptical than before, and i repented that i had taken him there. one thing had occurred, however, that he could not account for. the packet which he had kept, as he thought, under his foot the whole time, was found, at the close of the meeting, to have disappeared. another gentleman had brought a sealed box, with paper and pencil in it, to the _séance_; and at the close it was opened in the presence of all assembled, and found to contain a closely written letter from his deceased wife. but the doctor's box had evaporated, and was nowhere to be found. the door of the room had been locked all the time, and we searched the room thoroughly, but without success. dr. h---- was naturally triumphant. "they couldn't undo _my_ knots and _my_ seals," he said, exulting over me, "and so they wisely did not return the packet. both packets were of course taken from the room during the sitting by some confederate of the medium. the other one was easily managed, and put back again--_mine_ proved unmanageable, and so they have retained it. i _knew_ it would be so!" and he twinkled his eyes at me as much as to say, "i have shut _you_ up. you will not venture to describe any of the marvels you have seen to me after this." of course the failure did not discompose me, nor shake my belief. i never believed spiritual beings to be omnipotent, omnipresent, nor omniscient. they had failed before, and doubtless they would fail again. but if an acrobatic performer fails to turn a double somersault on to another man's head two or three times, it does not falsify the fact that he succeeds on the fourth occasion. i was sorry that the test had been a failure, for dr. h----'s sake, but i did not despair of seeing the box again. and at the end of a fortnight it was left at my house by mr. olive, with a note to say that it had been found that morning on the mantel-piece in mr. haxby's bedroom, and he lost no time in returning it to me. it was wrapt in the brown paper, tied and sealed, apparently just as we had carried it to the _séance_ in ainger terrace; and i wrote at once to dr. h---- announcing its return, and asking him to come over and open it in my presence. he came, took the packet in his hand, and having stripped off the outer wrapper, examined it carefully. there were four tests, it may be remembered, applied to the packet. i. the arterial silk, procurable only from a medical man. ii. the knots to be tied only by medical men. iii. dr. h----'s own crest, always kept on his watch chain, as a seal. iv. the lid of the cardboard box, glued all round to the bottom part. as the doctor scrutinized the silk, the knots, and the seals, i watched him narrowly. "are you _quite sure_," i asked, "that it is the same paper in which you wrapt it?" "i am _quite sure_." "and the same silk?" "quite sure." "your knots have not been untied?" "i am positive that they have not." "nor your seal been tampered with?" "certainly not! it is just as i sealed it." "be careful, dr. h----," i continued. "remember i shall write down all you say." "i am willing to swear to it in a court of justice," he replied. "then will you open the packet?" dr. h---- took the scissors and cut the silk at each seal and knot, then tore off the gummed white writing paper (which was as fresh as when he had put it on), and tried to pull open the card-board box. but as he could not do this in consequence of the lid being glued down, he took out his penknife and cut it all round. as he did so, he looked at me and said, "mark my words. there will be nothing written on the paper. it is impossible!" he lifted the lid, and behold _the box was empty_! the half sheet of notepaper and the half cedar wood pencil had both _entirely disappeared_. not a crumb of lead, nor a shred of paper remained behind. i looked at the doctor, and the doctor looked completely bewildered. "_well!_" i said, interrogatively. he shifted about--grew red--and began to bluster. "what do you make of it?" i asked. "how do you account for it?" "in the easiest way in the world," he replied, trying to brave it out. "it's the most transparent deception i ever saw. they've kept the thing a fortnight and had time to do anything with it. a child could see through this. surely your bright wits can want no help to an explanation." "i am not so bright as you give me credit for," i answered. "will you explain your meaning to me?" "with pleasure. they have evidently made an invisible slit in the joining of the box cover, and with a pair of fine forceps drawn the paper through it, bit by bit. for the pencil, they drew that by the same means to the slit and then pared it, little by little, with a lancet, till they could shake out the fragments." "that must have required very careful manipulation," i observed. "naturally. but they've taken a fortnight to do it in." "but how about the arterial silk?" i said. "they must have procured some from a surgeon." "and your famous knots?" "they got some surgeon to tie them!" "but your crest and seal?" "oh! they must have taken a facsimile of that in order to reproduce it. it is very cleverly done, but quite explicable!" "but you told me before you opened the packet that you would take your oath in a court of justice it had not been tampered with." "i was evidently deceived." "and you really believe, then, that an uneducated lad like mr. haxby would take the trouble to take impressions of seals and to procure arterial silk and the services of a surgeon, in order, not to mystify or convert _you_, but to gratify _me_, whose box he believes it to be." "i am sure he has done so!" "but just now you were equally sure he had _not_ done so. why should you trust your senses in one case more than in the other? and if mr. haxby has played a trick on me, as you suppose, why did you not discover the slit when you examined the box, before opening?" "because my eyes misled me!" "then after all," i concluded, "the best thing you can say of yourself is that you--a man of reputed science, skill, and sense, and with a strong belief in your own powers--are unable to devise a test in which you shall not be outwitted by a person so inferior to yourself in age, intellect and education as young haxby. but i will give you another chance. make up another packet in any way you like. apply to it the severest tests which your ingenuity can devise, or other men of genius can suggest to you, and let me give it to haxby and see if the contents can be extracted, or tampered with a second time." "it would be useless," said dr. h----. "if they were extracted through the iron panels of a fireproof safe, i would not believe it was done by any but natural means." "because you do not _wish_ to believe," i argued. "you are right," he confessed, "i do _not_ wish to believe. if you convinced me of the truth of spiritualism, you would upset all the theories i have held for the best part of my life. i don't believe in a god, nor a soul, nor a future existence, and i would rather not believe in them. we have quite enough trouble, in my opinion, in this life, without looking forward to another, and i would rather cling to my belief that when we die we have done with it once and for ever." so there ended my attempt to convince dr. h----, and i have often thought since that he was but a type of the genus sceptic. in this world, we mostly believe what we want to believe, and the thought of a future troubles us in proportion to the lives we lead here. it must often strike spiritualists (who mostly look forward to the day of their departure for another world, as a schoolboy looks forward to the commencement of the holidays) as a very strange thing, that people, as a rule, evince so little curiosity on the subject of spiritualism. the idea of the spirits of the departed returning to this world to hold communication with their friends may be a new and startling one to them, but the very wonder of it would make one expect to see them evince a little interest in a matter which concerns us all. yet the generality of carlyle's british millions either pooh-pooh the notion as too utterly ridiculous for their exalted minds to entertain, or inform you, with superior wisdom, that if spiritualism is true, they cannot see the use of it, and have no craving for any further knowledge. if these same people expected to go to canada or australia in a few months' time, how eagerly they would ask questions concerning their future home, and procure the best information on what to do, whilst they remained in england, in order to fit themselves for the journey and the change. but a journey to the other world--to the many worlds which perhaps await us--a certain proof that we shall live again (or rather, that we shall never die but need only time and patience and well-living here to reunite us to the dear one gone before)--_that_ is a subject not worthy of our trying to believe--of not sufficient importance for us to take the trouble of ascertaining. i pity from my soul the men and women who have no dead darling buried in their hearts whom they _know_ they shall meet in a home of god's own choosing when this life ends. the old, cold faiths have melted away beneath the sun of progress. we can no longer be made to believe, like little children, in a shadowy indefinite heaven where the saints sit on damp clouds with harps in their hands forever singing psalms and hymns and heavenly songs. that sort of existence could be a heaven to none, and to most it would be a hell. we do not accept it now, any more than we do the other place, with its typical fire and brimstone, and pitch-forking devils with horns and tails. but what has religion given us instead? those whose common-sense will not permit them to believe in the parson's heaven and hell generally believe (like dr. h----) in nothing at all. but spiritualism, earnestly and faithfully followed, leaves us in no doubt. spiritualists know where they are going to. the spheres are almost as familiar to them as this earth--it is not too much to say that many live in them as much as they do here, and often they seem the more real, as they are the more lasting of the two. spiritualists are in no manner of doubt _who_ their eyes will see when opening on another phase of life. _they_ do not expect to be carried straight up into abraham's bosom, and lie snugly there, whilst revengeful demons are torturing those who were, perhaps, nearest and dearest to them down below. they have a better and more substantial religion than that--a revelation that teaches them that the works we do in the flesh must bear their fruit in the spirit, and that no tardy deathbed repentance, no crying out for mercy because justice is upon us, like an unruly child howling as soon as the stick is produced for chastisement--will avail to wipe off the sins we have indulged in upon earth. they know their expiation will be a bitter one, yet not without hope, and that they will be helped, as well as help others, in the upward path that leads to ultimate perfection. the teaching of spiritualism is such as largely to increase belief in our divine father's love, our saviour's pity, and the angels' ministering help. but it does more than this, more than any religion has done before. it affords the _proof_--the only proof we have ever received, and our finite natures can accept--of a future existence. the majority of christians _hope_ and _trust_, and say they _believe_. it is the spiritualist only that _knows_. i think that the marvellous indifference displayed by the crowd to ascertain these truths for themselves must be due, in a large number of instances, to the unnatural but universal fear which is entertained of death and all things connected with it. the same people who loudly declaim again the possibility of seeing a "ghost," shudder at the idea of doing so. the creature whom they have adored and waited on with tenderest devotion passes away, and they are afraid to enter the room where his body lies. that which they clung to and wept over yesterday, they fear to look at or touch to-day, and the idea that he would return and speak to them would inspire them with horror. but why afraid of an impossibility? their very fears should teach them that there is a cause. from numerous notes made on the subject i have invariably found that those who have had the opportunity of testing the reality of spiritualism, and either rejected or denied it, have been selfish, worldly, and cold-hearted people who neither care, nor are cared for, by those who have passed on to another sphere. plenty of love is sure to bring you plenty of proof. the mourners, who have lost sight of what is dearest to them, and would give all they possess for one more look at the face they loved so much, or one more tone of the voice that was music to their ears, are only too eager and grateful to hear of a way by which their longings may be gratified, and would take any trouble and go to any expense to accomplish what they desire. it is this intense yearning to speak again with those that have left us, on the part of the bereaved, that has led to chicanery on the part of media in order to gratify it. wherever money is to be made, unfortunately cheating will step in; but because some tradesmen will sell you brass for gold is no reason to vote all jewellers thieves. the account of the raising of samuel by the witch of endor is an instance that my argument is correct. the witch was evidently an impostor, for she had no expectation of seeing samuel, and was frightened by the apparition she had evoked; but spiritualism must be a truth, because it was samuel himself who appeared and rebuked saul for calling him back to this earth. what becomes, in the face of this story, of the impassable gulf between the earthly and spiritual spheres? that atheists who believe in nothing should not believe in spiritualism is credible, natural, and consistent. but that christians should reject the theory is tantamount to acknowledging that they found their hopes of salvation upon a lie. there is no way of getting out of it. if it be _impossible_ that the spirits of the departed can communicate with men, the bible must be simply a collection of fabulous statements; if it be _wrong_ to speak with spirits, all the men whose histories are therein related were sinners, and the almighty helped them to sin; and if all the spirits who have been heard and seen and touched in modern times are devils sent on earth to lure us to our destruction, how are we to distinguish between them and the greatest spirit of all, who walked with mortal adam and eve in the garden of eden. "o! yes!" i think i hear somebody cry, "but that was in the bible;" as if the bible were a period or a place. and did it ever strike you that there is something else recorded in the bible? "and he did not many miracles there because of their _unbelief_." and yet christ came to call "not the righteous but the sinners to repentance." surely, then, the unbelieving required the conviction of the miracles more than those who knew him to be god. yet there he did them not, _because_ of their unbelief, because their _scepticism_ produced a condition in which miracles could not be wrought. and yet the nineteenth century is surprised because a sceptic, whose jarring element upsets all union and harmony, is not an acceptable addition to a spiritual meeting, and that the miracles of the present--gross and feeble, compared to those of the past, because worked by grosser material though grosser agents--ceased to be manifested when his unbelief intrudes itself upon them. chapter vii. the story of john powles. on the th of april, , there died in india a young officer in the th regiment m.n.i., of the name of john powles. he was an intimate friend of my first husband for several years before his death, and had consequently become intimate with me; indeed, on several occasions he shared our house and lived with us on the terms of a brother. i was very young at that time and susceptible to influence of all sorts--extremely nervous, moreover, on the subject of "ghosts," and yet burning with curiosity to learn something of the other world--a topic which it is most difficult to induce anybody to discuss with you. people will talk of dress, or dinner, or their friend's private affairs--of anything, in fact, sooner than death and immortality and the world to come which we must all inevitably enter. even parsons--the legalized exponents of what lies beyond the grave--are no exceptions to the rule. when the bereaved sufferer goes to them for comfort, they shake their heads and "hope" and "trust," and say "god's mercy has no limits," but they cannot give him one reasonable proof to rest upon that death is but a name. john powles, however, though a careless and irreligious man, liked to discuss the unseen. we talked continually on the subject, even when he was apparently in perfect health, and he often ended our conversation by assuring me that should he die first (and he always prophesied truly that he should not reach the age of thirty) he would (were such a thing possible) come back to me. i used to laugh at the absurdity of the idea, and remind him how many friends had made the same promise to each other and never fulfilled it. for though i firmly believed that such things _had_ been, i could not realize that they would ever happen to me, or that i should survive the shock if they did. john powles' death at the last was very sudden, although the disease he died of was of long standing. he had been under the doctor's hands for a few days when he took an unexpected turn for the worse, and my husband and myself, with other friends, were summoned to his bedside to say good-bye to him. when i entered the room he said to me, "so you see it has come at last. don't forget what i said to you about it." they were his last intelligible words to me, though for several hours he grasped my dress with his hand to prevent my leaving him, and became violent and unmanageable if i attempted to quit his side. during this time, in the intervals of his delirium, he kept on entreating me to sing a certain old ballad, which had always been a great favorite with him, entitled "thou art gone from my gaze." i am sure if i sung that song once during that miserable day, i must have sung it a dozen times. at last our poor friend fell into convulsions which recurred with little intermission until his death, which took place the same evening. his death and the manner of it caused me a great shock. he had been a true friend to my husband and myself for years, and we both mourned his loss very sincerely. that, and other troubles combined, had a serious effect upon my health, and the doctors advised my immediate return to england. when an officer dies in india, it is the custom to sell all his minor effects by auction. before this took place, my husband asked me if there was anything belonging to john powles that i should like to keep in remembrance of him. the choice i made was a curious one. he had possessed a dark green silk necktie, which was a favorite of his, and when it became soiled i offered to turn it for him, when it looked as good as new. whereupon he had worn it so long that it was twice as dirty as before, so i turned it for him the second time, much to the amusement of the regiment. when i was asked to choose a keepsake of him, i said, "give me the green tie," and i brought it to england with me. the voyage home was a terrible affair. i was suffering mentally and physically, to such a degree that i cannot think of the time without a shudder. john powles' death, of course, added to my distress, and during the many months that occupied a voyage "by long sea," i hoped and expected that his spirit would appear to me. with the very strong belief in the possibility of the return to earth of the departed--or rather, i should say, with my strong belief _in_ my belief--i lay awake night after night, thinking to see my lost friend, who had so often promised to come back to me. i even cried aloud to him to appear and tell me where he was, or what he was doing, but i never heard or saw a single thing. there was silence on every side of me. ten days only after i landed in england i was delivered of a daughter, and when i had somewhat recovered my health and spirits--when i had lost the physical weakness and nervous excitability, to which most medical men would have attributed any mysterious sights or sounds i might have experienced before--then i commenced to _know_ and to _feel_ that john powles was with me again. i did not see him, but i felt his presence. i used to lie awake at night, trembling under the consciousness that he was sitting at my bedside, and i had no means of penetrating the silence between us. often i entreated him to speak, but when a low, hissing sound came close to my ear, i would scream with terror and rush from my room. all my desire to see or communicate with my lost friend had deserted me. the very idea was a terror. i was horror-struck to think he had returned, and i would neither sleep alone nor remain alone. i was advised to try a livelier place than winchester (where i then resided), and a house was taken for me at sydenham. but there, the sense of the presence of john powles was as keen as before, and so, at intervals, i continued to feel it for the space of several years--until, indeed, i became an inquirer into spiritualism as a science. i have related in the chapter that contains an account of my first _séance_, that the only face i recognized as belonging to me was that of my friend john powles, and how excited i became on seeing it. it was that recognition that brought back all my old longing and curiosity to communicate with the inhabitants of the unseen world. as soon as i commenced investigations in my home circle, john powles was the very first spirit who spoke to me through the table, and from that time until the present i have never ceased to hold communion with him. he is very shy, however, (as he was, whilst with us) of conversing before strangers, and seldom intimates his presence except i am alone. at such times, however, he will talk by the hour of all such topics as interested him during his earth life. soon after it became generally known that i was attending _séances_, i was introduced to miss showers, the daughter of general showers of the bombay army. this young lady, besides being little more than a child--i think she was about sixteen when we met--was not a professional medium. the _séances_ to which her friends were invited to witness the extraordinary manifestations that took place in her presence were strictly private. they offered therefore an enormous advantage to investigators, as the occurrences were all above suspicion, whilst miss showers was good enough to allow herself to be tested in every possible way. i shall have occasion to refer more particularly to miss showers' mediumship further on--at present, therefore, i will confine myself to those occasions which afforded proofs of john powles' presence. mrs. and miss showers were living in apartments when i visited them, and there was no means nor opportunity of deceiving their friends, even had they had any object in doing so. i must add also, that they knew nothing of my indian life nor experiences, which were things of the past long before i met them. at the first sitting miss showers gave me for "spirit faces," she merely sat on a chair behind the window curtains, which were pinned together half-way up, so as to leave a v-shaped opening at the top. the voice of "peter" (miss showers' principal control) kept talking to us and the medium from behind the curtains all the time, and making remarks on the faces as they appeared at the opening. presently he said to me, "mrs. ross-church, here's a fellow says his name is powles, and he wants to speak to you, only he doesn't like to show himself because he's not a bit like what he used to be." "tell him not to mind that," i answered, "i shall know him under any circumstances." "well! if he was anything like that, he was a beauty," exclaimed peter; and presently a face appeared which i could not, by any stretch of imagination, decide to resemble in the slightest degree my old friend. it was hard, stiff and unlifelike. after it had disappeared, peter said, "powles says if you'll come and sit with rosie (miss showers) often, he'll look quite like himself by-and-by," and of course i was only too anxious to accept the invitation. as i was setting out another evening to sit with miss showers, the thought suddenly occurred to me to put the green necktie in my pocket. my two daughters accompanied me on that occasion, but i said nothing to them about the necktie. as soon as we had commenced, however, peter called out, "now, mrs. ross-church, hand over that necktie. powles is coming." "what necktie?" i asked, and he answered, "why powles' necktie, of course, that you've got in your pocket. he wants you to put it round his neck." the assembled party looked at me inquisitively as i produced the tie. the face of john powles appeared, very different from the time before, as he had his own features and complexion, but his hair and beard (which were auburn during life) appeared phosphoric, as though made of living fire. i mounted on a chair and tied the necktie round his throat, and asked him if he would kiss me. he shook his head. peter called out, "give him your hand." i did so, and as he kissed it, his moustaches _burned_ me. i cannot account for it. i can only relate the fact. after which he disappeared with the necktie, which i have never seen since, though we searched the little room for it thoroughly. the next thing i have to relate about john powles is so startling that i dread the criticism it will evoke; but if i had not startling stories to tell, i should not consider them worth writing down. i left my house in bayswater one sunday evening to dine with mr. and mrs. george neville in regent's park terrace, to have a _séance_ afterwards with miss showers. there was a large company present, and i was placed next to miss showers at table. during dinner she told me complainingly that her mother had gone to norwood to spend the night, and she (rosie) was afraid of sleeping alone, as the spirits worried her so. in a moment it flashed across me to ask her to return to bayswater and sleep with me, for i was most desirous of testing her powers when we were alone together. miss showers accepted my invitation, and we arranged that she should go home with me. after dinner, the guests sat for a _séance_, but to everybody's surprise and disappointment, nothing occurred. it was one o'clock in the morning when miss showers and i entered a cab to return to bayswater. we had hardly started when we were greeted with a loud peal of laughter close to our ears. "what's the matter, peter?" demanded miss showers. "i can't help laughing," he replied, "to think of their faces when no one appeared! did you suppose i was going to let you waste all your power with them, when i knew i was going home with you and mrs. ross-church? i mean to show you what a real good _séance_ is to-night." when we reached home i let myself in with a latchkey. the house was full, for i had seven children, four servants, and a married sister staying with me; but they were all in bed and asleep. it was cold weather, and when i took miss showers into my bedroom a fire was burning in the grate. my sister was occupying a room which opened into mine; but i locked her door and my own, and put the keys under my pillow. miss showers and i then undressed and got into bed. when we had extinguished the gas, we found the room was, comparatively speaking, light, for i had stirred the fire into a blaze, and a street lamp just opposite the window threw bars of light through the venetian blinds, right across the ceiling. as soon as miss showers had settled herself in bed, she said, "i wonder what peter is going to do," and i replied, "i hope he won't strip off the bed-clothes." we were lying under four blankets, a counterpane, and an eider-down _duvet_, and as i spoke, the whole mass rose in the air, and fell over the end of the bed, leaving us quite unprotected. we got up, lit a candle, and made the bed again, tucking the clothes well in all round, but the minute we laid down the same thing was repeated. we were rather cross the second time, and abused peter for being so disagreeable, upon which the voice declared he wouldn't do it any more, but we shouldn't have provoked him to try. i said, "you had much better shew yourself to us, peter. that is what i want you to do." he replied, "here i am, my dear, close to you!" i turned my head, and there stood a dark figure beside the bed, whilst another could be plainly distinguished walking about the room. i said, "i can't see your face," and he replied, "i'll come nearer to you!" upon this the figure rose in the air until it hung suspended, face downward, over the bed. in this position it looked like a huge bat with outspread wings. it was still indistinct, except as to substance, but peter said we had exhausted all the phosphorus in our bodies by the long evening we had spent, and left him nothing to light himself up with. after a while he lowered himself on to the bed, and lay between miss showers and myself on the outside of the _duvet_. to this we greatly objected, as he was very heavy and took up a great deal of room; but it was some time before he would go away. during this manifestation, the other spirit, whom peter called the "pope," kept walking about and touching everything in the room, which was full of ornaments; and peter called out several times, "take care, pope! take care! don't break mrs. ross-church's things." the two made so much noise that they waked my sister in the adjoining room, and she knocked at the door, asking in an alarmed voice, "florence! _whom_ have you there? you will wake the whole house." when i replied, "never mind, it's only spirits," she gave one fell shriek and dived under her bed-clothes. she maintains to this day that she fully believed the steps and voices to be human. at last the manifestations became so rapid, as many as eight and ten hands touching us at once, that i asked miss showers if she would mind my tying hers together. she was very amiable and consented willingly. i therefore got out of bed again, and having securely fastened her hands in the sleeves of the nightdress she wore, i sewed them with needle and thread to the mattress. miss showers then said she felt sleepy, and with her back to me--a position she was obliged to maintain on account of her hands being sewn down--she apparently dropt off to sleep, though i knew subsequently she was in a trance. for some time afterwards nothing occurred, the figures had disappeared, the voices ceased, and i thought the _séance_ was over. presently, however, i felt a hand laid on my head and the fingers began to gently stroke and pull the short curls upon my forehead. i whispered, "who is this?" and the answer came back, "don't you know me? i am powles! at last--at last--after a silence of ten years i see you and speak with you again, face to face." "how can i tell this is _your_ hand?" i said. "peter might be materializing a hand in order to deceive me." the hand immediately left my head and the _back_ of it passed over my mouth, when i felt it was covered with short hair. i then remembered how hairy john powles' hands had become from exposure to the indian sun whilst shooting, and how i had nicknamed him "esau" in consequence. i recollected also that he had dislocated the left wrist with a cricket ball. "let me feel your wrist," i said, and my hand was at once placed on the enlarged bone. "i want to trace your hand to where it springs from," i next suggested; and on receiving permission i felt from the fingers and wrist to the elbow and shoulder, where it terminated _in the middle of miss showers' back_. still i was not quite satisfied, for i used to find it very hard to believe in the identity of a person i had cared for. i was so terribly afraid of being deceived. "i want to see your face," i continued. "i cannot show you my face to-night," the voice replied, "but you shall feel it;" and the face, with beard and moustaches, was laid for a moment against my own. then the hand was replaced on my hair, and whilst it kept on pulling and stroking my curls, john powles' own voice spoke to me of everything that had occurred of importance when he and i were friends on earth. fancy, two people who were intimately associated for years, meeting alone after a long and painful separation, think of all the private things they would talk about together, and you will understand why i cannot write down the conversation that took place between us that night here. in order to convince me of his identity, john powles spoke of all the troubles i had passed through and was then enduring--he mentioned scenes, both sad and merry, which we had witnessed together; he recalled incidents which had slipped my memory, and named places and people known only to ourselves. had i been a disbeliever in spiritualism, that night must have made a convert of me. whilst the voice, in the well-remembered tones of my old friend, was speaking, and his hand wandered through my hair, miss showers continued to sleep, or to appear to sleep, with her back towards me, and her hands sewn into her nightdress sleeves, and the sleeves sewn down to the bed. but had she been wide awake and with both hands free, she could not have spoken to me in john powles' unforgotten voice of things that had occurred when she was an infant and thousands of miles away. and i affirm that the voice spoke to me of things that no one but john powles could possibly have known. he did not fail to remind me of the promise he had made, and the many times he had tried to fulfil it before, and he assured me he should be constantly with me from that time. it was daylight before the voice ceased speaking, and then both miss showers and i were so exhausted, we could hardly raise our heads from the pillows. i must not forget to add that when we _did_ open our eyes again upon this work-a-day world, we found there was hardly an article in the room that had not changed places. the pictures were all turned with their faces to the wall--the crockery from the washstand was piled in the fender--the ornaments from the mantel-piece were on the dressing-table--in fact, the whole room was topsy-turvy. when mr. william fletcher gave his first lecture in england, in the steinway hall, my husband, colonel lean, and i, went to hear him. we had never seen mr. fletcher before, nor any of his family, nor did he know we were amongst the audience. our first view of him was when he stepped upon the platform, and we were seated quite in the body of the hall, which was full. it was mr. fletcher's custom, after his lecture was concluded, to describe such visions as were presented to him, and he only asked in return that if the people and places were recognized, those who recognized them would be brave enough to say so, for the sake of the audience and himself. i can understand that strangers who went there and heard nothing that concerned themselves would be very apt to imagine it was all humbug, and that those who claimed a knowledge of the visions were simply confederates of mr. fletcher. but there is nothing more true than that circumstances alter cases. i entered steinway hall as a perfect stranger, and as a press-writer, quite prepared to expose trickery if i detected it. and this is what i heard. after mr. fletcher had described several persons and scenes unknown to me, he took out a handkerchief and began to wipe his face, as though he were very warm. "i am no longer in england, now," he said. "the scene has quite changed, and i am taken over the sea, thousands of miles away, and i am in a chamber with all the doors and windows open. oh! how hot it is! i think i am somewhere in the tropics. o! i see why i have been brought here! it is to see a young man die! this is a death chamber. he is lying on a bed. he looks very pale, and he is very near death, but he has only been ill a short time. his hair is a kind of golden chestnut color, and he has blue eyes. he is an englishman, and i can see the letter 'p' above his head. he has not been happy on earth, and he is quite content to die. he pushes all the influences that are round his bed away from him. now i see a lady come and sit down beside him. he holds her hand, and appears to ask her to do something, and i hear a strain of sweet music. it is a song he has heard in happier times, and on the breath of it his spirit passes away. it is to this lady he seems to come now. she is sitting on my left about half way down the hall. a little girl, with her hands full of blue flowers, points her out to me. the little girl holds up the flowers, and i see they are woven into a resemblance of the letter f. she tells me that is the initial letter of her mother's name and her own. and i see this message written. "'to my dearest friend, for such you ever were to me from the beginning. i have been with you through all your time of trial and sorrow, and i am rejoiced to see that a happier era is beginning for you. i am always near you. the darkness is fast rolling away, and happiness will succeed it. pray for me, and i shall be near you in your prayers. i pray god to bless you and to bless me, and to bring us together again in the summer land.' "and i see the spirit pointing with his hand far away, as though to intimate that the happiness he speaks of is only the beginning of some that will extend to a long distance of time. i see this scene more plainly than any i have ever seen before." these words were written down at the time they were spoken. colonel lean and i were sitting in the very spot indicated by mr. fletcher, and the little girl with the blue flowers was my spirit child, "florence," whose history i shall give in the next chapter. but my communications with john powles, though very extraordinary, were not satisfactory to me. i am the "thomas, surnamed didymus," of the spiritualistic world, who wants to see and touch and handle before i can altogether believe. i wanted to meet john powles and talk with him face to face, and it seemed such an impossibility for him to materialize in the light that, after his two failures with miss showers, he refused to try. i was always worrying him to tell me if we should meet in the body before i left this world, and his answer was always, "yes! but not just yet!" i had no idea then that i should have to cross the atlantic before i saw my dear old friend again. chapter viii. my spirit child. the same year that john powles died, , i passed through the greatest trouble of my life. it is quite unnecessary to my narrative to relate what that trouble was, nor how it affected me, but i suffered terribly both in mind and body, and it was chiefly for this reason that the medical men advised my return to england, which i reached on the th of december, and on the th of the same month a daughter was born to me, who survived her birth for only ten days. the child was born with a most peculiar blemish, which it is necessary for the purpose of my argument to describe. on the left side of the upper lip was a mark as though a semi-circular piece of flesh had been cut out by a bullet-mould, which exposed part of the gum. the swallow also had been submerged in the gullet, so that she had for the short period of her earthly existence to be fed by artificial means, and the jaw itself had been so twisted that could she have lived to cut her teeth, the double ones would have been in front. this blemish was considered to be of so remarkable a type that dr. frederick butler of winchester, who attended me, invited several other medical men, from southampton and other places, to examine the infant with him, and they all agreed that _a similar case had never come under their notice before_. this is a very important factor in my narrative. i was closely catechized as to whether i had suffered any physical or mental shock, that should account for the injury to my child, and it was decided that the trouble i had experienced was sufficient to produce it. the case, under feigned names, was fully reported in the _lancet_ as something quite out of the common way. my little child, who was baptized by the name of "florence," lingered until the th of january, , and then passed quietly away, and when my first natural disappointment was over i ceased to think of her except as of something which "might have been," but never would be again. in this world of misery, the loss of an infant is soon swallowed up in more active trouble. still i never quite forgot my poor baby, perhaps because at that time she was happily the "one dead lamb" of my little flock. in recounting the events of my first _séance_ with mrs. holmes, i have mentioned how a young girl much muffled up about the mouth and chin appeared, and intimated that she came for me, although i could not recognize her. i was so ignorant of the life beyond the grave at that period, that it never struck me that the baby who had left me at ten days old had been growing since our separation, until she had reached the age of ten years. i could not interpret longfellow (whom i consider one of the sublimest spiritualists of the age) as i can now. "day after day we think what she is doing, in those bright realms of air: year after year, her tender steps pursuing, behold her grown more fair. . . . . . "not as a child shall we again behold her: for when, with rapture wild, in our embraces we again enfold her, she will not be a child; but a fair maiden in her father's mansion, clothed with celestial grace. and beautiful with all the soul's expansion, shall we behold her face!" * * * * * the first _séance_ made such an impression on my mind that two nights afterwards i again presented myself (this time alone) at mrs. holmes' rooms to attend another. it was a very different circle on the second occasion. there were about thirty people present, all strangers to each other, and the manifestations were proportionately ordinary. another professional medium, a mrs. davenport, was present, as one of her controls, whom she called "bell," had promised, if possible, to show her face to her. as soon, therefore, as the first spirit face appeared (which was that of the same little girl that i had seen before), mrs. davenport exclaimed, "there's 'bell,'" "why!" i said, "that's the little nun we saw on monday." "o! no! that's my 'bell,'" persisted mrs. davenport. but mrs. holmes took my side, and was positive the spirit came for me. she told me she had been trying to communicate with her since the previous _séance_. "i know she is nearly connected with you," she said. "have you never lost a relation of her age?" "_never!_" i replied; and at that declaration the little spirit moved away, sorrowfully as before. a few weeks after i received an invitation from mr. henry dunphy (the gentleman who had introduced me to mrs. holmes) to attend a private _séance_, given at his own house in upper gloucester place, by the well-known medium florence cook. the double drawing-rooms were divided by velvet curtains, behind which miss cook was seated in an arm-chair, the curtains being pinned together half-way up, leaving a large aperture in the shape of a v. being a complete stranger to miss cook, i was surprised to hear the voice of her control direct that _i_ should stand by the curtains and hold the lower parts together whilst the forms appeared above, lest the pins should give way, and necessarily from my position i could hear every word that passed between miss cook and her guide. the first face that showed itself was that of a man unknown to me; then ensued a kind of frightened colloquy between the medium and her control. "take it away. go away! i don't like you. don't touch me--you frighten me! go away!" i heard miss cook exclaim, and then her guide's voice interposed itself, "don't be silly, florrie. don't be unkind. it won't hurt you," etc., and immediately afterwards the same little girl i had seen at mrs. holmes' rose to view at the aperture of the curtains, muffled up as before, but smiling with her eyes at me. i directed the attention of the company to her, calling her again my "little nun." i was surprised, however, at the evident distaste miss cook had displayed towards the spirit, and when the _séance_ was concluded and she had regained her normal condition, i asked her if she could recall the faces she saw under trance. "sometimes," she replied. i told her of the "little nun," and demanded the reason of her apparent dread of her. "i can hardly tell you," said miss cook; "i don't know anything about her. she is quite a stranger to me, but her face is not fully developed, i think. there is _something wrong about her mouth_. she frightens me." this remark, though made with the utmost carelessness, set me thinking, and after i had returned home, i wrote to miss cook, asking her to inquire of her guides _who_ the little spirit was. she replied as follows: "dear mrs. ross-church, i have asked 'katie king,' but she cannot tell me anything further about the spirit that came through me the other evening than that she is a young girl closely connected with yourself." i was not, however, yet convinced of the spirit's identity, although "john powles" constantly assured me that it _was_ my child. i tried hard to communicate with her at home, but without success. i find in the memoranda i kept of our private _séances_ at that period several messages from "powles" referring to "florence." in one he says, "your child's want of power to communicate with you is not because she is too pure, but because she is too weak. she will speak to you some day. she is _not_ in heaven." this last assertion, knowing so little as i did of a future state, both puzzled and grieved me. i could not believe that an innocent infant was not in the beatific presence--yet i could not understand what motive my friend could have in leading me astray. i had yet to learn that once received into heaven no spirit could return to earth, and that a spirit may have a training to undergo, even though it has never committed a mortal sin. a further proof, however, that my dead child had never died was to reach me from a quarter where i least expected it. i was editor of the magazine _london society_ at that time, and amongst my contributors was dr. keningale cook, who had married mabel collins, the now well-known writer of spiritualistic novels. one day dr. cook brought me an invitation from his wife (whom i had never met) to spend saturday to monday with them in their cottage at redhill, and i accepted it, knowing nothing of the proclivities of either of them, and they knowing as little of my private history as i did of theirs. and i must take this opportunity to observe that, at this period, i had never made my lost child the subject of conversation even with my most intimate friends. the memory of her life and death, and the troubles that caused it, was not a happy one, and of no interest to any but myself. so little, therefore, had it been discussed amongst us that until "florence" reappeared to revive the topic, my _elder children were ignorant_ that their sister had been marked in any way differently from themselves. it may, therefore, be supposed how unlikely it was that utter strangers and public media should have gained any inkling of the matter. i went down to redhill, and as i was sitting with the keningale cooks after dinner, the subject of spiritualism came on the _tapis_, and i was informed that the wife was a powerful trance medium, which much interested me, as i had not, at that period, had any experience of her particular class of mediumship. in the evening we "sat" together, and mrs. cook having become entranced, her husband took shorthand notes of her utterances. several old friends of their family spoke through her, and i was listening to them in the listless manner in which we hear the conversation of strangers, when my attention was aroused by the medium suddenly leaving her seat, and falling on her knees before me, kissing my hands and face, and sobbing violently the while. i waited in expectation of hearing who this might be, when the manifestations as suddenly ceased, the medium returned to her seat, and the voice of one of her guides said that the spirit was unable to speak through excess of emotion, but would try again later in the evening. i had almost forgotten the circumstance in listening to other communications, when i was startled by hearing the word "_mother!_" sighed rather than spoken. i was about to make some excited reply, when the medium raised her hand to enjoin silence, and the following communication was taken down by mr. cook as she pronounced the words. the sentences in parentheses are my replies to her. "mother! i am 'florence.' i must be very quiet. i want to feel i have a mother still. i am so lonely. why should i be so? i cannot speak well. i want to be like one of you. i want to feel i have a mother and sisters. i am so far away from you all now." ("but i always think of you, my dear dead baby.") "that's just it--your _baby_. but i'm not a baby now. i shall get nearer. they tell me i shall. i do not know if i can come when you are alone. it's all so dark. i know you are there, but _so dimly_. i've grown _all by myself_. i'm not really unhappy, but i want to get nearer you. i know you think of me, but you think of me as a baby. you don't know me as i _am_. you've seen me, because in my love i have forced myself upon you. i've not been amongst the flowers yet, but i shall be, very soon now; but i want _my mother_ to take me there. all has been given me that can be given me, but i cannot receive it, except in so far----" here she seemed unable to express herself. ("did the trouble i had before your birth affect your spirit, florence?") "only as things cause each other. i was with you, mother, all through that trouble. i should be nearer to you, _than any child you have_, if i could only get close to you." ("i can't bear to hear you speak so sadly, dear. i have always believed that _you_, at least, were happy in heaven.") "i am _not_ in heaven! but there will come a day, mother--i can laugh when i say it--when we shall go to heaven _together_ and pick blue flowers--_blue flowers_. they are so good to me here, but if your eye cannot bear the daylight you cannot see the buttercups and daisies." i did not learn till afterwards that in the spiritual language blue flowers are typical of happiness. the next question i asked her was if she thought she could write through me. "i don't seem able to write through you, but why, i know not." ("do you know your sisters, eva and ethel?") "no! no!" in a weary voice. "the link of sisterhood is only through the mother. that kind of sisterhood does not last, because there is a higher." ("do you ever see your father?") "no! he is far, far away. i went once, not more. mother, dear, he'll love me when he comes here. they've told me so, and they always tell truth here! i am but a child, yet not so very little. i seem composed of two things--a child in ignorance and a woman in years. why can't i speak at other places? i have wished and tried! i've come very near, but it seems so easy to speak now. this medium seems so different." ("i wish you could come to me when i am alone, florence.") "you _shall_ know me! i _will_ come, mother, dear. i shall always be able to come here. i _do_ come to you, but not in the same way." she spoke in such a plaintive, melancholy voice that mrs. cook, thinking she would depress my spirits, said, "don't make your state out to be sadder than it really is." her reply was very remarkable. "_i am, as i am!_ friend! when you come here, if you find that sadness _is_, you will not be able to alter it by plunging into material pleasures. _our sadness makes the world we live in._ it is not deeds that make us wrong. it is the state in which _we were born_. mother! you say i died sinless. that is nothing. i was born _in a state_. had i lived, i should have caused you more pain than you can know. i am better here. i was not fit to battle with the world, and they took me from it. mother! you won't let this make you sad. you must not." ("what can i do to bring you nearer to me?") "i don't know what will bring me nearer, but i'm helped already by just talking to you. there's a ladder of brightness--every step. i believe i've gained just one step now. o! the divine teachings are so mysterious. mother! does it seem strange to you to hear your 'baby' say things as if she knew them? i'm going now. good-bye!" and so "florence" went. the next voice that spoke was that of a guide of the medium, and i asked her for a personal description of my daughter as she then appeared. she replied, "her face is downcast. we have tried to cheer her, but she is very sad. it is the _state in which she was born_. every physical deformity is the mark of a condition. a weak body is not necessarily the mark of a weak spirit, but the _prison_ of it, because the spirit might be too passionate otherwise. you cannot judge in what way the mind is deformed because the body is deformed. it does not follow that a canker in the body is a canker in the mind. but the mind may be too exuberant--may need a canker to restrain it." i have copied this conversation, word for word, from the shorthand notes taken at the time of utterance; and when it is remembered that neither mrs. keningale cook nor her husband knew that i had lost a child--that they had never been in my house nor associated with any of my friends--it will at least be acknowledged, even by the most sceptical, that it was a very remarkable coincidence that i should receive such a communication from the lips of a perfect stranger. only once after this did "florence" communicate with me through the same source. she found congenial media nearer home, and naturally availed herself of them. but the second occasion was almost more convincing than the first. i went one afternoon to consult my solicitor in the strictest confidence as to how i should act under some very painful circumstances, and he gave me his advice. the next morning as i sat at breakfast, mrs. cook, who was still living at redhill, ran into my room with an apology for the unceremoniousness of her visit, on the score that she had received a message for me the night before which "florence" had begged her to deliver without delay. the message was to this effect: "tell my mother that i was with her this afternoon at the lawyer's, and she is _not_ to follow the advice given her, as it will do harm instead of good." mrs. cook added, "i don't know to what 'florence' alludes, of course, but i thought it best, as i was coming to town, to let you know at once." the force of this anecdote does not lie in the context. the mystery is contained in the fact of a secret interview having been overheard and commented upon. but the truth is, that having greater confidence in the counsel of my visible guide than in that of my invisible one, i abided by the former, and regretted it ever afterwards. the first conversation i held with "florence" had a great effect upon me. i knew before that my uncontrolled grief had been the cause of the untimely death of her body, but it had never struck me that her spirit would carry the effects of it into the unseen world. it was a warning to me (as it should be to all mothers) not to take the solemn responsibility of maternity upon themselves without being prepared to sacrifice their own feelings for the sake of their children. "florence" assured me, however, that communion with myself in my improved condition of happiness would soon lift her spirit from its state of depression, and consequently i seized every opportunity of seeing and speaking with her. during the succeeding twelve months i attended numerous _séances_ with various media, and my spirit child (as she called herself) never failed to manifest through the influence of any one of them, though, of course, in different ways. through some she touched me only, and always with an infant's hand, that i might recognize it as hers, or laid her mouth against mine that i might feel the scar upon her lip; through others she spoke, or wrote, or showed her face, but i never attended a _séance_ at which she omitted to notify her presence. once at a dark circle, held with mr. charles williams, after having had my dress and that of my next neighbor, lady archibald campbell, pulled several times as if to attract our attention, the darkness opened before us, and there stood my child, smiling at us like a happy dream, her fair hair waving about her temples, and her blue eyes fixed on me. she was clothed in white, but we saw no more than her head and bust, about which her hands held her drapery. lady archibald campbell saw her as plainly as i did. on another occasion mr. william eglinton proposed to me to try and procure the spirit-writing on his arm. he directed me to go into another room and write the name of the friend i loved best in the spirit world upon a scrap of paper, which i was to twist up tightly and take back to him. i did so, writing the name of "john powles." when i returned to mr. eglinton, he bared his arm, and holding the paper to the candle till it was reduced to tinder, rubbed his flesh with the ashes. i knew what was expected to ensue. the name written on the paper was to reappear in red or white letters on the medium's arm. the sceptic would say it was a trick of thought-reading, and that, the medium knowing what i had written, had prepared the writing during my absence. but to his surprise and mine, when at last he shook the ashes from his arm, we read, written in a bold, clear hand, the words--"florence is the dearest," as though my spirit child had given me a gentle rebuke for writing any name but her own. it seems curious to me now to look back and remember how melancholy she used to be when she first came back to me, for as soon as she had established an unbroken communication between us, she developed into the merriest little spirit i have ever known, and though her childhood has now passed away, and she is more dignified and thoughtful and womanly, she always appears joyous and happy. she has manifested largely to me through the mediumship of mr. arthur colman. i had known her, during a dark _séance_ with a very small private circle (the medium being securely held and fastened the while) run about the room, like the child she was, and speak to and kiss each sitter in turn, pulling off the sofa and chair covers and piling them up in the middle of the table, and changing the ornaments of everyone present--placing the gentlemen's neckties round the throats of the ladies, and hanging the ladies' earrings in the buttonholes of the gentlemen's coats--just as she might have done had she been still with us, a happy, petted child, on earth. i have known her come in the dark and sit on my lap and kiss my face and hands, and let me feel the defect in her mouth with my own. one bright evening on the th of july--my birthday--arthur colman walked in quite unexpectedly to pay me a visit, and as i had some friends with me, we agreed to have a _séance_. it was impossible to make the room dark, as the windows were only shaded by venetian blinds, but we lowered them, and sat in the twilight. the first thing we heard was the voice of "florence" whispering--"a present for dear mother's birthday," when something was put into my hand. then she crossed to the side of a lady present and dropped something into her hand, saying, "and a present for dear mother's friend!" i knew at once by the feel of it that what "florence" had given me was a chaplet of beads, and knowing how often, under similar circumstances, articles are merely carried about a room, i concluded it was one which lay upon my drawing-room mantel-piece, and said as much. i was answered by the voice of "aimée," the medium's nearest control. "you are mistaken," she said, "'florence' has given you a chaplet you have never seen before. she was exceedingly anxious to give you a present on your birthday, so i gave her the beads which were buried with me. they came from my coffin. i held them in my hand. all i ask is, that you will not shew them to arthur until i give you leave. he is not well at present, and the sight of them will upset him." i was greatly astonished, but, of course, i followed her instructions, and when i had an opportunity to examine the beads, i found that they really were strangers to me, and had not been in the house before. the present my lady friend had received was a large, unset topaz. the chaplet was made of carved wood and steel. it was not till months had elapsed that i was given permission to show it to arthur colman. he immediately recognized it as the one he had himself placed in the hands of "aimée" as she lay in her coffin, and when i saw how the sight affected him, i regretted i had told him anything about it. i offered to give the beads up to him, but he refused to receive them, and they remain in my possession to this day. but the great climax that was to prove beyond all question the personal identity of the spirit who communicated with me, with the body i had brought into the world, was yet to come. mr. william harrison, the editor of the _spiritualist_ (who, after seventeen years' patient research into the science of spiritualism, had never received a personal proof of the return of his own friends, or relations) wrote me word that he had received a message from his lately deceased friend, mrs. stewart, to the effect that if he would sit with the medium, florence cook, and one or two harmonious companions, she would do her best to appear to him in her earthly likeness and afford him the test he had so long sought after. mr. harrison asked me, therefore, if i would join him and miss kidlingbury--the secretary to the british national association of spiritualists--in holding a _séance_ with miss cook, to which i agreed, and we met in one of the rooms of the association for that purpose. it was a very small room, about feet by feet, was uncarpeted and contained no furniture, so we carried in three cane-bottomed chairs for our accommodation. across one corner of the room, about four feet from the floor, we nailed an old black shawl, and placed a cushion behind it for miss cook to lean her head against. miss florence cook, who is a brunette, of a small, slight figure, with dark eyes and hair which she wore in a profusion of curls, was dressed in a high grey merino, ornamented with crimson ribbons. she informed me previous to sitting, that she had become restless during her trances lately, and in the habit of walking out amongst the circle, and she asked me as a friend (for such we had by that time become) to scold her well should such a thing occur, and order her to go back into the cabinet as if she were "a child or a dog;" and i promised her i would do so. after florence cook had sat down on the floor, behind the black shawl (which left her grey merino skirt exposed), and laid her head against the cushion, we lowered the gas a little, and took our seats on the three cane chairs. the medium appeared very uneasy at first, and we heard her remonstrating with the influences for using her so roughly. in a few minutes, however, there was a tremulous movement of the black shawl, and a large white hand was several times thrust into view and withdrawn again. i had never seen mrs. stewart (for whom we were expressly sitting) in this life, and could not, therefore, recognize the hand; but we all remarked how large and white it was. in another minute the shawl was lifted up, and a female figure crawled on its hands and knees from behind it, and then stood up and regarded us. it was impossible, in the dim light and at the distance she stood from us, to identify the features, so mr. harrison asked if she were mrs. stewart. the figure shook its head. i had lost a sister a few months previously, and the thought flashed across me that it might be her. "is it you, emily?" i asked; but the head was still shaken to express a negative, and a similar question on the part of miss kidlingbury, with respect to a friend of her own, met with the same response. "who _can_ it be?" i remarked curiously to mr. harrison. "mother! don't you know me?" sounded in "florence's" whispering voice. i started up to approach her, exclaiming, "o! my darling child! i never thought i should meet you here!" but she said, "go back to your chair, and i will come to you!" i reseated myself, and "florence" crossed the room and sat down _on my lap_. she was more unclothed on that occasion than any materialized spirit i have ever seen. she wore nothing on her head, only her hair, of which she appears to have an immense quantity, fell down her back and covered her shoulders. her arms were bare and her feet and part of her legs, and the dress she wore had no shape or style, but seemed like so many yards of soft thick muslin, wound round her body from the bosom to below the knees. she was a heavy weight--perhaps ten stone--and had well-covered limbs. in fact, she was then, and has appeared for several years past, to be, in point of size and shape, so like her eldest sister eva, that i always observe the resemblance between them. this _séance_ took place at a period when "florence" must have been about seventeen years old. "florence, my darling," i said, "is this _really_ you?" "turn up the gas," she answered, "and look at my mouth." mr. harrison did as she desired, and we all saw distinctly _that peculiar defect on the lip_ with which she was born--a defect, be it remembered, which some of the most experienced members of the profession had affirmed to be "_so rare as never to have fallen under their notice before_." she also opened her mouth that we might see she had no gullet. i promised at the commencement of my book to confine myself to facts, and leave the deduction to be drawn from them to my readers, so i will not interrupt my narrative to make any remarks upon this incontrovertible proof of identity. i know it struck me dumb, and melted me into tears. at this juncture miss cook, who had been moaning and moving about a good deal behind the black shawl, suddenly exclaimed, "i can't stand this any longer," and walked out into the room. there she stood in her grey dress and crimson ribbons whilst "florence" sat on my lap in white drapery. but only for a moment, for directly the medium was fully in view, the spirit sprung up and darted behind the curtain. recalling miss cook's injunctions to me, i scolded her heartily for leaving her seat, until she crept back, whimpering, to her former position. the shawl had scarcely closed behind her before "florence" reappeared and clung to me, saying, "don't let her do that again. she frightens me so." she was actually trembling all over. "why, florence," i replied. "do you mean to tell me you are frightened of your medium? in this world it is we poor mortals who are frightened of the spirits." "i am afraid she will send me away, mother," she whispered. however, miss cook did not disturb us again, and "florence" stayed with us for some time longer. she clasped her arms round my neck, and laid her head upon my bosom, and kissed me dozens of times. she took my hand and spread it out, and said she felt sure i should recognize her hand when she thrust it outside the curtain, because it was so much like my own. i was suffering much trouble at that time, and "florence" told me the reason god had permitted her to show herself to me in her earthly deformity was so that i might be sure that she was herself, and that spiritualism was a truth to comfort me. "sometimes you doubt, mother," she said, "and think your eyes and ears have misled you; but after this you must never doubt again. don't fancy i am like this in the spirit land. the blemish left me long ago. but i put it on to-night to make you certain. don't fret, dear mother. remember _i_ am always near you. no one can take _me_ away. your earthly children may grow up and go out into the world and leave you, but you will always have your spirit child close to you." i did not, and cannot, calculate for how long "florence" remained visible on that occasion. mr. harrison told me afterwards that she had remained for nearly twenty minutes. but her undoubted presence was such a stupendous fact to me, that i could only think that _she was there_--that i actually held in my arms the tiny infant i had laid with my own hands in her coffin--that she was no more dead than i was myself, but had grown to be a woman. so i sat, with my arms tight round her, and my heart beating against hers, until the power decreased, and "florence" was compelled to give me a last kiss and leave me stupefied and bewildered by what had so unexpectedly occurred. two other spirits materialized and appeared after she had left us, but as neither of them was mrs. stewart, the _séance_, as far as mr. harrison was concerned, was a failure. i have seen and heard "florence" on numerous occasions since the one i have narrated, but not with the mark upon her mouth, which she assures me will never trouble either of us again. i could fill pages with accounts of her pretty, caressing ways and her affectionate and sometimes solemn messages; but i have told as much of her story as will interest the general reader. it has been wonderful to me to mark how her ways and mode of communication have changed with the passing years. it was a simple child who did not know how to express itself that appeared to me in . it is a woman full of counsel and tender warning that comes to me in . but yet she is only nineteen. when she reached that age, "florence" told me she should never grow any older in years or appearance, and that she had reached the climax of womanly perfection in the spirit world. only to-night--the night before christmas day--as i write her story, she comes to me and says, "mother! you must not give way to sad thoughts. the past is past. let it be buried in the blessings that remain to you." and amongst the greatest of those blessings i reckon my belief in the existence of my spirit-child. chapter ix. the story of emily. my sister emily was the third daughter of my late father, and several years older than myself. she was a handsome woman--strictly speaking, perhaps, the handsomest of the family, and quite unlike the others. she had black hair and eyes, a pale complexion, a well-shaped nose, and small, narrow hands and feet. but her beauty had slight detractions--so slight, indeed, as to be imperceptible to strangers, but well known to her intimate friends. her mouth was a little on one side, one shoulder was half an inch higher than the other, her fingers were not quite straight, nor her toes, and her hips corresponded with her shoulders. she was clever, with a versatile, all-round talent, and of a very happy and contented disposition. she married dr. henry norris of charmouth, in dorset, and lived there many years before her death. she was an excellent wife and mother, a good friend, and a sincere christian; indeed, i do not believe that a more earnest, self-denying, better woman ever lived in this world. but she had strong feelings, and in some things she was very bigoted. one was spiritualism. she vehemently opposed even the mention of it, declared it to be diabolical, and never failed to blame me for pursuing such a wicked and unholy occupation. she was therefore about the last person whom i should have expected to take advantage of it to communicate with her friends. my sister emily died on the th of april, . her death resulted from a sudden attack of pleurisy, and was most unexpected. i was sitting at an early dinner with my children on the same day when i received a telegram from my brother-in-law to say, "emily very ill; will telegraph when change occurs," and i had just despatched an answer to ask if i should go down to charmouth, or could be of any use, when a second message arrived, "all is over. she died quietly at two o'clock." those who have received similar shocks will understand what i felt. i was quite stunned, and could not realize that my sister had passed away from us, so completely unanticipated had been the news. i made the necessary arrangements for going down to her funeral, but my head was filled with nothing but thoughts of emily the while, and conjectures of _how_ she had died and of _what_ she had died (for that was, as yet, unknown to me), and what she had thought and said; above all, what she was thinking and feeling at that moment. i retired to rest with my brain in a whirl, and lay half the night wide awake, staring into the darkness, and wondering where my sister was. _now_ was the time (if any) for my cerebral organs to play me a trick, and conjure up a vision of the person i was thinking of. but i saw nothing; no sound broke the stillness; my eyes rested only on the darkness. i was quite disappointed, and in the morning i told my children so. i loved my sister emily dearly, and i hoped she would have come to wish me good-bye. on the following night i was exhausted by want of sleep and the emotion i had passed through, and when i went to bed i was very sleepy. i had not been long asleep, however, before i was waked up--i can hardly say by what--and there at my bedside stood emily, smiling at me. when i lost my little "florence," emily had been unmarried, and she had taken a great interest in my poor baby, and nursed her during her short lifetime, and, i believe, really mourned her loss, for (although she had children of her own) she always wore a little likeness of "florence" in a locket on her watch-chain. when emily died i had of course been for some time in communication with my spirit-child, and when my sister appeared to me that night, "florence" was in her arms, with her head resting on her shoulder. i recognized them both at once, and the only thing which looked strange to me was that emily's long black hair was combed right back in the chinese fashion, giving her forehead an unnaturally high appearance. this circumstance made the greater impression on me, because we all have such high foreheads with the hair growing off the temples that we have never been able to wear it in the style i speak of. with this exception my sister looked beautiful and most happy, and my little girl clung to her lovingly. emily did not speak aloud, but she kept on looking down at "florence," and up at me, whilst her lips formed the words, "little baby," which was the name by which she had always mentioned my spirit-child. in the morning i mentioned what i had seen to my elder girls, adding, "i hardly knew dear aunt emily, with her hair scratched back in that fashion." this apparition happened on the wednesday night, and on the friday following i travelled down to charmouth to be present at the funeral, which was fixed for saturday. i found my sister cecil there before me. as soon as we were alone, she said to me, "i am so glad you came to-day. i want you to arrange dear emily nicely in her coffin. the servants had laid her out before my arrival, and she doesn't look a bit like herself. but i haven't the nerve to touch her." it was late at night, but i took a candle at once and accompanied cecil to the death-chamber. our sister was lying, pale and calm, with a smile upon her lips, much as she had appeared to me, and with _all her black hair combed back from her forehead_. the servants had arranged it so, thinking it looked neater. it was impossible to make any alteration till the morning, but when our dear sister was carried to her grave, her hair framed her dead face in the wavy curls in which it always fell when loose; a wreath of flowering syringa was round her head, a cross of violets on her breast, and in her waxen, beautifully-moulded hands, she held three tall, white lilies. i mention this because she has come to me since with the semblance of these very flowers to ensure her recognition. after the funeral, my brother-in-law gave me the details of her last illness. he told me that on the monday afternoon, when her illness first took a serious turn and she became (as he said) delirious, she talked continually to her father, captain marryat (to whom she had been most reverentially attached), and who, she affirmed, was sitting by the side of the bed. her conversation was perfectly rational, and only disjointed when she waited for a reply to her own remarks. she spoke to him of langham and all that had happened there, and particularly expressed her surprise at his having _a beard_, saying, "does hair grow up there, father?" i was the more impressed by this account, because dr. norris, like most medical men, attributed the circumstance entirely to the distorted imagination of a wandering brain. and yet my father (whom i have never seen since his death) has been described to me by various clairvoyants, and always as _wearing a beard_, a thing he never did during his lifetime, as it was the fashion then for naval officers to wear only side whiskers. in all his pictures he is represented as clean shorn, and as he was so well known a man, one would think that (were they dissembling) the clairvoyants, in describing his personal characteristics, would follow the clue given by his portraits. for some time after my sister emily's death i heard nothing more of her, and for the reasons i have given, i never expected to see her again until we met in the spirit-world. about two years after her death, however, my husband, colonel lean, bought two tickets for a series of _séances_ to be held in the rooms of the british national association of spiritualists under the mediumship of mr. william eglinton. this was the first time we had ever seen or sat with mr. eglinton, but we had heard a great deal of his powers, and were curious to test them. on the first night, which was a saturday, we assembled with a party of twelve, all complete strangers, in the rooms i have mentioned, which were comfortably lighted with gas. mr. eglinton, who is a young man inclined to stoutness, went into the cabinet, which was placed in the centre of us, with spectators all round it. the cabinet was like a large cupboard, made of wood and divided into two parts, the partition being of wire-work, so that the medium might be padlocked into it, and a curtain drawn in front of both sides. after a while, a voice called out to us not to be frightened, as the medium was coming out to get more power, and mr. eglinton, in a state of trance and dressed in a suit of evening clothes, walked out of the cabinet and commenced a tour of the circle. he touched every one in turn, but did not stop until he reached colonel lean, before whom he remained for some time, making magnetic passes down his face and figure. he then turned to re-enter the cabinet, but as he did so, some one moved the curtain from inside and mr. eglinton _actually held the curtain to one side to permit the materialized form to pass out_ before he went into the cabinet himself. the figure that appeared was that of a woman clothed in loose white garments that fell to her feet. her eyes were black and her long black hair fell over her shoulders. i suspected at the time who she was, but each one in the circle was so certain she came for him or for her, that i said nothing, and only mentally asked if it were my sister that i might receive a proof of her identity. on the following evening (sunday) colonel lean and i were "sitting" together, when emily came to the table to assure us that it was she whom we had seen, and that she would appear again on monday and show herself more clearly. i asked her to think of some means by which she could prove her identity with the spirit that then spoke to us, and she said, "i will hold up my right hand." colonel lean cautioned me not to mention this promise to any one, that we might be certain of the correctness of the test. accordingly, on the monday evening we assembled for our second _séance_ with mr. eglinton, and the same form appeared, and walking out much closer to us, _held up the right hand_. colonel lean, anxious not to be deceived by his own senses, asked the company what the spirit was doing. "cannot you see?" was the answer. "she is holding up her hand." on this occasion emily came with all her old characteristics about her, and there would have been no possibility of mistaking her (at least on my part) without the proof she had promised to give us. the next startling assurance we received of her proximity happened in a much more unexpected manner. we were staying, in the autumn of the following year, at a boarding-house in the rue de vienne at brussels, with a large party of english visitors, none of whom we had ever seen till we entered the house. amongst them were several girls, who had never heard of spiritualism before, and were much interested in listening to the relation of our experiences on the subject. one evening when i was not well, and keeping my own room, some of these young ladies got hold of colonel lean and said, "oh! do come and sit in the dark with us and tell us ghost stories." now sitting in the dark and telling ghost stories to five or six nice looking girls is an occupation few men would object to, and they were all soon ensconced in the dark and deserted _salle-à-manger_. amongst them was a young girl of sixteen, miss helen hill, who had never shown more interest than the rest in such matters. after they had been seated in the dark for some minutes, she said to colonel lean, "do you know, i can see a lady on the opposite side of the table quite distinctly, and she is nodding and smiling at you." the colonel asked what the lady was like. "she is very nice looking," replied the girl, "with dark eyes and hair, but she seems to want me to notice her ring. she wears a ring with a large blue stone in it, of such a funny shape, and she keeps on twisting it round and round her finger, and pointing to it. oh! now she has got up and is walking round the room. only fancy! she is holding up her feet for me to see. they are bare and very white, but her toes are crooked!" then miss hill became frightened and asked them to get a light. she declared that the figure had come up, close to her, and torn the lace off her wrists. and when the light was procured and her dress examined, a frill of lace that had been tacked into her sleeve that morning had totally disappeared. the young ladies grew nervous and left the room, and colonel lean, thinking the description helen hill had given of the spirit tallied with that of my sister emily, came straight up to me and surprised me by an abrupt question as to whether she had been in the habit of wearing any particular ring (for he had not seen her for several years before her death). i told him that her favorite ring was an uncut turquoise--so large and uneven that she used to call it her "potato." "had she any peculiarity about her feet?" he went on, eagerly. "why do you wish to know?" i said. "she had crooked toes, that is all." "good heavens!" he exclaimed, "then she has been with us in the _salle-à-manger_." i have never met miss hill since, and i am not in a position to say if she has evinced any further possession of clairvoyant power; but she certainly displayed it on that occasion to a remarkable degree; for she had never even heard of the existence of my sister emily, and was very much disturbed and annoyed when told that the apparition she had described was reality and not imagination. chapter x. the story of the green lady. the story i have to tell now happened a very short time ago, and every detail is as fresh in my mind as if i had heard and seen it yesterday. mrs. guppy-volckman has been long known to the spiritualistic world as a very powerful medium, also as taking a great private interest in spiritualism, which all media do not. her means justify her, too, in gratifying her whims; and hearing that a certain house in broadstairs was haunted, she became eager to ascertain the truth. the house being empty, she procured the keys from the landlord, and proceeded on a voyage of discovery alone. she had barely recovered, at the time, from a most dangerous illness, which had left a partial paralysis of the lower limbs behind it; it was therefore with considerable difficulty that she gained the drawing-room of the house, which was on the first floor, and when there she abandoned her crutches, and sat down on the floor to recover herself. mrs. volckman was now perfectly alone. she had closed the front door after her, and she was moreover almost helpless, as it was with great difficulty that she could rise without assistance. it was on a summer's evening towards the dusky hour, and she sat on the bare floor of the empty house waiting to see what might happen. after some time (i tell this part of the story as i received it from her lips) she heard a rustling or sweeping sound, as of a long silk train coming down the uncarpeted stairs from the upper storey. the room in which she sat communicated with another, which led out upon the passage, and it was not long before the door between these two apartments opened and the figure of a woman appeared. she entered the room in which mrs. volckman sat, very cautiously, and commenced to walk round it, feeling her way along the walls as though she were blind or tipsy. she was dressed in a green satin robe that swept behind her--round the upper part of her body was a kind of scarf of glistening white material, like silk gauze--and on her head was a black velvet cap, or coif, from underneath which her long black hair fell down her back. mrs. volckman, although used all her life to manifestations and apparitions of all sorts, told me she had never felt so frightened at the sight of one before. she attempted to rise, but feeling her incapability of doing so quickly, she screamed with fear. as soon as she did so, the woman turned round and ran out of the room, apparently as frightened as herself. mrs. volckman got hold of her crutches, scrambled to her feet, found her way downstairs, and reached the outside of the house in safety. most people would never have entered it again. she, on the contrary, had an interview with the landlord, and actually, then and there, purchased a lease of the house and entered upon possession, and as soon as it was furnished and ready for occupation, she invited a party of friends to go down and stay with her at broadstairs, and make the acquaintance of the "green lady," as we had christened her. colonel lean and i were amongst the visitors, the others consisting of lady archibald campbell, miss shaw, mrs. olive, mrs. bellew, colonel greck, mr. charles williams, and mr. and mrs. henry volckman, which, with our host and hostess, made up a circle of twelve. we assembled there on a bright day in july, and the house, with its large rooms and windows facing the sea, looked cheerful enough. the room in which mrs. volckman had seen the apparition was furnished as a drawing-room, and the room adjoining it, which was divided by a _portière_ only from the larger apartment, she had converted for convenience sake into her bedroom. the first evening we sat it was about seven o'clock, and so light that we let down all the venetians, which, however, did little to remedy the evil. we had no cabinet, nor curtains, nor darkness, for it was full moon at the time, and the dancing, sparkling waves were quite visible through the interstices of the venetians. we simply sat round the table, holding hands in an unbroken circle and laughing and chatting with each other. in a few minutes mrs. volckman said something was rising beside her from the carpet, and in a few more the "green lady" was visible to us all standing between the medium and mr. williams. she was just as she had been described to us, both in dress and appearance, but her face was as white and as cold as that of a corpse, and her eyes were closed. she leaned over the table and brought her face close to each of us in turn, but she seemed to have no power of speech. after staying with us about ten minutes, she sunk as she had risen, through the carpet, and disappeared. the next evening, under precisely similar circumstances, she came again. this time she had evidently gained more vitality in a materialized condition, for when i urged her to tell me her name, she whispered, though with much difficulty, "julia!" and when lady archibald observed that she thought she had no hands, the spirit suddenly thrust out a little hand, and grasped the curls on her forehead with a violence that gave her pain. unfortunately, mr. williams' professional engagements compelled him to leave us on the following day, and mrs. volckman had been too recently ill to permit her to sit alone, so that we were not able to hold another _séance_ for the "green lady" during our visit. but we had not seen the last of her. one evening mrs. bellew and i were sitting in the bay window of the drawing-room, just "between the lights," and discussing a very private matter indeed, when i saw (as i thought) my hostess maid raise the _portière_ that hung between the apartments and stand there in a listening attitude. i immediately gave mrs. volckman the hint. "let us talk of something else," i said, in a low voice. "jane is in your bedroom." "o! no! she's not," was the reply. "but i saw her lift the _portière_," i persisted; "she has only just dropped it." "you are mistaken," replied my hostess, "for jane has gone on the beach with the child." i felt sure i had _not_ been mistaken, but i held my tongue and said no more. the conversation was resumed, and as we were deep in the delicate matter, the woman appeared for the second time. "mrs. volckman," i whispered, "jane is really there. she has just looked in again." my friend rose from her seat. "come with me," she said, "and i will convince you that you are wrong." i followed her into the bedroom, where she showed me that the door communicating with the passage was locked _inside_. "now, do you see," she continued, "that no one but the 'green lady' could enter this room but through the one we are sitting in." "then it must have been the 'green lady,'" i replied, "for i assuredly saw a woman standing in the doorway." "that is likely enough," said mrs. volckman; "but if she comes again she shall have the trouble of drawing back the curtains." and thereupon she unhooped the _portière_, which consisted of two curtains, and drew them right across the door. we had hardly regained our seats in the bay window before the two curtains were sharply drawn aside, making the brass rings rattle on the rod, and the "green lady" stood in the opening we had just passed through. mrs. volckman told her not to be afraid, but to come out and speak to us; but she was apparently not equal to doing so, and only stood there for a few minutes gazing at us. i imprudently left my seat and approached her, with a view to making overtures of friendship, when she dropped the curtains over her figure. i passed through them immediately to the other side, and found the bedroom empty and the door locked inside, as before. chapter xi. the story of the monk. a lady named uniacke, a resident in bruges, whilst on a visit to my house in london, met and had a _séance_ with william eglinton, with which she was so delighted that she immediately invited him to go and stay with her abroad, and as my husband and i were about to cross over to bruges to see my sister, who also resided there, we travelled in company--mr. eglinton living at mrs. uniacke's home, whilst we stayed with our own relations. mrs. uniacke was a medium herself, and had already experienced some very noisy and violent demonstrations in her own house. she was, therefore, quite prepared for her visitor, and had fitted up a spare room with a cabinet and blinds to the windows, and everything that was necessary. but, somewhat to her chagrin, we were informed at the first sitting by mr. eglinton's control, "joey," that all future _séances_ were to take place at my sister's house instead. we were given no reason for the change; we were simply told to obey it. my sister's house was rather a peculiar one, and i have already alluded to it, and some of the sights and sounds by which it was haunted, in the chapter headed "optical illusions." the building is so ancient that the original date has been completely lost. a stone set into one of the walls bore an inscription to the effect that it was restored in the year . and an obsolete plan of the city shows it to have stood in its present condition in . prior to that period, however, probably about the thirteenth century, it is supposed, with three houses on either side of it, to have formed a convent, but no printed record remains of the fact. beneath it are subterraneous passages, choked with rubbish, which lead, no one knows whither. i had stayed in this house several times before, and always felt unpleasant influences from it, as i have related, especially in a large room on the lower floor, then used as a drawing-room, but which is said to have formed, originally, the chapel to the convent. others had felt the influence beside myself, though we never had had reason to suppose that there was any particular cause for it. when we expressed curiosity, however, to learn why "joey" desired us to hold our _séance_ in my sister's house, he told us that the medium had not been brought over to bruges for _our_ pleasure or edification, but that there was a great work to be done there, and mrs. uniacke had been expressly influenced to invite him over, that the purposes of a higher power than his own should be accomplished. consequently, on the following evening mrs. uniacke brought mr. eglinton over to my sister's house, and "joey" having been asked to choose a room for the sitting, selected an _entresol_ on the upper floor, which led by two short passages to the bedrooms. the bedroom doors being locked a dark curtain was hung at the entrance of one of these passages, and "joey" declared it was a first-rate cabinet. we then assembled in the drawing-room, for the purposes of music and conversation, for we intended to hold the _séance_ later in the evening. the party consisted only of the medium, mrs. uniacke, my sister, my husband, and myself. after i had sung a song or two, mr. eglinton became restless and moved away from the piano, saying the influence was too strong for him. he began walking up and down the room, and staring fixedly at the door, before which hung a _portière_. several times he exclaimed with knitted brows, "what is the matter with that door? there is something very peculiar about it." once he approached it quickly, but "joey's" voice was heard from behind the _portière_, saying, "don't come too near." mr. eglinton then retreated to a sofa, and appeared to be fighting violently with some unpleasant influence. he made the sign of the cross, then extended his fingers towards the door, as though to exorcise it: finally he burst into a mocking, scornful peal of laughter that lasted for some minutes. as it concluded, a diabolical expression came over his face. he clenched his hands, gnashed his teeth, and commenced to grope in a crouching position towards the door. we concluded he wished to get up to the room where the cabinet was, and let him have his way. he crawled, rather than walked, up the steep turret stairs, but on reaching the top, came to himself suddenly and fell back several steps. my husband, fortunately, was just behind him and saved him from a fall. he complained greatly of the influence and of a pain in his head, and we sat at the table to receive directions. in a few seconds the same spirit had taken possession of him. he left the table and groped his way towards the bedrooms, listening apparently to every sound, and with his hand holding an imaginary knife which was raised every now and then as if to strike. the expression on mr. eglinton's face during this possession is too horrible to describe. the worst passions were written as legibly there as though they had been labelled. there was a short flight of stairs leading from the _entresol_ to the corridor, closed at the head by a padded door, which we had locked for fear of accident. when, apparently in pursuit of his object, the spirit led the medium up to this door and he found it fastened, his moans were terrible. half-a-dozen times he made his weary round of the room, striving to get downstairs to accomplish some end, and to return to us moaning and baffled. at this juncture, he was so exhausted that one of his controls, "daisy," took possession of him and talked with us for some time. we asked "daisy" what the spirit was like that had controlled mr. eglinton last, and she said she did not like him--he had a bad face, no hair on the top of his head, and a long black frock. from this we concluded he had been a monk or a priest. when "daisy" had finished speaking to us "joey" desired mr. eglinton to go into the cabinet; but as soon as he rose, the same spirit got possession again and led him grovelling as before towards the bedrooms. his "guides" therefore carried him into the cabinet before our eyes. he was elevated far above our heads, his feet touching each of us in turn; he was then carried past the unshaded window, which enabled us to judge of the height he was from the ground, and finally over a large table, into the cabinet. nothing, however, of consequence occurred, and "joey" advised us to take the medium downstairs to the supper room. accordingly we adjourned there, and during supper mr. eglinton appeared to be quite himself, and laughed with us over what had taken place. as soon as the meal was over, however, the old restlessness returned on him, and he began pacing up and down the room, walking out every now and then into the corridor. in a few minutes we perceived that the uneasy spirit again controlled him, and we all followed. he went steadily towards the drawing-room, but, on finding himself pursued, turned back, and three times pronounced emphatically the word "go." he then entered the drawing-room, which was in darkness, and closed the door behind him, whilst we waited outside. in a little while he reopened it, and speaking in quite a different voice, said "bring a light! i have something to say to you." when we reassembled with a lamp we found the medium controlled by a new spirit, whom "joey" afterwards told us was one of his highest guides. motioning us to be seated, he stood before us and said, "i have been selected from amongst the controls of this medium to tell you the history of the unhappy being who has so disturbed you this evening. he is present now, and the confession of his crime through my lips will help him to throw off the earthbound condition to which it has condemned him. many years ago, the house in which we now stand was a convent, and underneath it were four subterraneous passages running north, south, east, and west, which communicated with all parts of the town. (i must here state that mr. eglinton had not previously been informed of any particulars relating to the former history of my sister's home, neither were mrs. uniacke or myself acquainted with it.) "in this convent there lived a most beautiful woman--a nun, and in one of the neighboring monasteries a priest who, against the strict law of his church, had conceived and nourished a passion for her. he was an italian who had been obliged to leave his own country, for reasons best known to himself, and nightly he would steal his way to this house, by means of one of the subterraneous passages, and attempt to overcome the nun's scruples, and make her listen to his tale of love; but she, strong in the faith, resisted him. at last, maddened one day by her repeated refusals, and his own guilty passion, he hid himself in one of the northern rooms in the upper story of this house, and watched there in the dark for her to pass him on her way from her devotions in the chapel; but she did not come. then he crept downstairs stealthily, with a dagger hid beneath his robes, and met her in the hall. he conjured her again to yield to him, but again she resisted, and he stabbed her within the door on the very spot where the medium first perceived him. her pure soul sought immediate consolation in the spirit spheres, but his has been chained down ever since to the scene of his awful crime. he dragged her body down the secret stairs (which are still existent) to the vaults beneath, and hid it in the subterraneous passage. "after a few days he sought it again, and buried it. he lived many years after, and committed many other crimes, though none so foul as this. it is his unhappy spirit that asks your prayers to help it to progress. it is for this purpose that we were brought to this city, that we might aid in releasing the miserable soul that cannot rest." i asked, "by what name shall we pray for him?" "pray for 'the distressed being.' call him by no other name." "what is your own name?" "i prefer to be unknown. may god bless you all and keep you in the way of prayer and truth and from all evil courses, and bring you to everlasting life. amen." the medium then walked up to the spot he had indicated as the scene of the murder, and knelt there for some minutes in prayer. thus concluded the first _séance_ at which the monk was introduced to us. but the next day as i sat at the table with my sister only, the name of "hortense dupont" was given us, and the following conversation was rapped out. "who are you?" "i am the nun. i did love him. i couldn't help it. it is such a relief to think that he will be prayed for." "when did he murder you?" "in ." "what was his name?" "i cannot tell you." "his age." "thirty-five!" "and yours." "twenty-three." "are you coming to see us to-morrow?" "i am not sure." on that evening, by "joey's" orders, we assembled at seven. mr. eglinton did not feel the influence in the drawing-room that day, but directly he entered the _séance_ room, he was possessed by the same spirit. his actions were still more graphic than on the first occasion. he watched from the window for the coming of his victim through the courtyard, and then recommenced his crawling stealthy pursuit, coming back each time from the locked door that barred his egress with such heart-rending moans that no one could have listened to him unmoved. at last, his agony was so great, as he strove again and again, like some dumb animal, to pass through the walls that divided him from the spot he wished to visit, whilst the perspiration streamed down the medium's face with the struggle, that we attempted to make him speak to us. we implored him in french to tell us his trouble, and believe us to be his friends; but he only pushed us away. at last we were impressed to pray for him, and kneeling down, we repeated all the well-known catholic prayers. as we commenced the "de profundis" the medium fell prostrate on the earth, and seemed to wrestle with his agony. at the "salve regina" and "ave maria" he lifted his eyes to heaven and clasped his hands, and in the "pater noster" he appeared to join. but directly we ceased praying the evil passions returned, and his face became distorted in the thirst for blood. it was an experience that no one who had seen could ever forget. at last my sister fetched a crucifix, which we placed upon his breast. it had not been there many seconds before a different expression came over his face. he seized it in both hands, straining it to his eyes, lips, and heart, holding it from him at arm's length, then passionately kissing it, as we repeated the "anima christi." finally, he held the crucifix out for each of us to kiss; a beautiful smile broke out on the medium's face, and the spirit passed out of him. mr. eglinton awoke on that occasion terribly exhausted. his face was as white as a sheet, and he trembled violently. his first words were: "they are doing something to my forehead. burn a piece of paper, and give me the ashes." he rubbed them between his eyes, when the sign of the cross became distinctly visible, drawn in deep red lines upon his forehead. the controls then said, exhausted as mr. eglinton was, we were to place him in the cabinet, as their work was not yet done. he was accordingly led in trance to the arm-chair behind the curtain, whilst we formed a circle in front of him. in a few seconds the cabinet was illuminated, and a cross of fire appeared outside of it. this manifestation having been seen twice, the head and shoulders of a nun appeared floating outside the curtain. her white coif and "chin-piece" were pinned just as the "_religieuses_" are in the habit of pinning them, and she seemed very anxious to show herself, coming close to each of us in turn, and re-appearing several times. her face was that of a young and pretty woman. "joey" said, "that's the nun, but you'll understand that this is only a preliminary trial, preparatory to a more perfect materialization." i asked the apparition if she were the "hortense dupont" that had communicated through me, and she nodded her head several times in acquiescence. thus ended our second _séance_ with the monk of bruges. on the third day we were all sitting at supper in my sister's house at about ten o'clock at night, when loud raps were heard about the room, and on giving the alphabet, "joey" desired us to go upstairs and sit, and to have the door at the head of the staircase (which we had hitherto locked for fear of accidents) left open; which we accordingly did. as soon as we were seated at the table, the medium became entranced, and the same pantomime which i have related was gone through. he watched from the window that looked into the courtyard, and silently groped his way round the room, until he had crawled on his stomach up the stairs that led to the padded door. when he found, however, that the obstacle that had hitherto stood in his way was removed (by its being open) he drew a long breath and started away for the winding turret staircase, listening at the doors he passed to find out if he were overheard. when he came to the stairs, in descending which we had been so afraid he might hurt himself, he was carried down them in the most wonderful manner, only placing his hand on the balustrades, and swooping to the bottom in one flight. we had placed a lamp in the hall, so that as we followed him we could observe all his actions. when he reached the bottom of the staircase he crawled on his stomach to the door of the drawing-room (originally the chapel) and there waited and listened, darting back into the shadow every time he fancied he heard a sound. imagine our little party of four in that sombre old house, the only ones waking at that time of night, watching by the ghastly light of a turned-down lamp the acting of that terrible tragedy. we held our breath as the murderer crouched by the chapel door, opening it noiselessly to peep within, and then, retreating with his imaginary dagger in his hand, ready to strike as soon as his victim appeared. at last she seemed to come. in an instant he had sprung to meet her, stabbing her first in a half-stooping attitude, and then, apparently, finding her not dead, he rose to his full height and stabbed her twice, straight downwards. for a moment he seemed paralyzed at what he had done, starting back with both hands clasped to his forehead. then he flung himself prostrate on the supposed body, kissing the ground frantically in all directions. presently he woke to the fear of detection, and raised the corpse suddenly in his arms. he fell once beneath the supposed weight, but staggering to his feet again, seized and dragged it, slipping on the stone floor as he went, to the head of the staircase that led to the cellars below, where the mouth of one of the subterraneous passages was still to be seen. the door at the head of this flight was modern, and he could not undo the lock, so, prevented from dragging the body down the steps, he cast himself again upon it, kissing the stone floor of the hall and moaning. at last he dragged himself on his knees to the spot of the murder, and began to pray. we knelt with him, and as he heard our voices he turned on his knees towards us with outstretched hands. i suggested that he wanted the crucifix again, and went upstairs to fetch it, when the medium followed me. when i had found what i sought, he seized it from me eagerly, and carrying it to the window, whence he had so often watched, fell down again upon his knees. after praying for some time he tried to speak to us. his lips moved and his tongue protruded, but he was unable to articulate. suddenly he seized each of our hands in turn in both of his own, and wrung them violently. he tried to bless us, but the words would not come. the same beautiful smile we had seen the night before broke out over his countenance, the crucifix dropped from his hands, and he fell prostrate on the floor. the next moment mr. eglinton was asking us where he was and what on earth had happened to him, as he felt so queer. he declared himself fearfully exhausted, but said he felt that a great calm and peace had come over him notwithstanding the weakness, and he believed some great good had been accomplished. he was not again entranced, but "joey" ordered the light to be put out, and spoke to us in the direct voice as follows:-- "i've just come to tell you what i know you will be very glad to hear, that through the medium's power, and our power, and the great power of god, the unhappy spirit who has been confessing his crime to you is freed to-night from the heaviest part of his burden--the being earth-chained to the spot. i don't mean to say that he will go away at once to the spheres, because he's got a lot to do still to alter the conditions under which he labors, but the worst is over. this was the special work mr. eglinton was brought to bruges to do, and ernest and i can truly say that, during the whole course of our control of him, we have never had to put forth our own powers, nor to ask so earnestly for the help of god, as in the last three days. you have all helped in a good work,--to free a poor soul from earth, and to set him on the right road, and _we_ are grateful to you and to the medium, as well as he. he will be able to progress rapidly now until he reaches his proper sphere, and hereafter the spirits of himself and the woman he murdered will work together to undo for others the harm they brought upon themselves. she is rejoicing in her high sphere at the work we have done for him, and will be the first to help and welcome him upward. there are many more earth-bound spirits in this house and the surrounding houses who are suffering as he was, though not to the same extent, nor for the same reason. but they all ask for and need your help and your prayers, and this is the greatest and noblest end of spiritualism--to aid poor, unhappy spirits to free themselves from earth and progress upwards. after a while when this spirit can control the medium with calmness, he will come himself and tell you, through him, all his history and how he came to fall. meanwhile, we thank you very much for allowing us to draw so much strength from you and helping us with your sympathy, and i hope you will believe me always to remain, your loving friend, joey." * * * * * this account, with very little alteration, was published in the _spiritualist_ newspaper, august th, , when the _séances_ had just occurred. there is a sequel to the story, however, which is almost as remarkable as itself, and which has not appeared in print till now. from bruges on this occasion my husband and i went to brussels, where we diverted ourselves by means very dissimilar to anything so grave as spiritualism. there were many sales going on in brussels at that moment, and one of our amusements was to make a tour of the salerooms and inspect the articles put up for competition. during one of these visits i was much taken by a large oil pointing, in a massive frame, measuring some six or seven feet square. it represented a man in the dress of a franciscan monk--_i.e._, a brown serge robe, knotted with cords about the waist--kneeling in prayer with outstretched hands upon a mass of burning embers. it was labelled in the catalogue as the picture of a spanish monk of the order of saint francis xavier, and was evidently a painting of some value. i was drawn to go and look at it several days in succession before the sale, and i told my husband that i coveted its possession. he laughed at me and said it would fetch a great deal more money than we could afford to give for it, in which opinion i acquiesced. the day of the sale, however, found us in our places to watch the proceedings, and when the picture of the monk was put up i bid a small sum for it. col. lean looked at me in astonishment, but i whispered to him that i was only in fun, and i should stop at a hundred francs. the bidding was very languid, however, and to my utter amazement, the picture was knocked down to me for _seventy-two francs_. i could hardly believe that it was true. directly the sale was concluded, the brokers crowded round me to ask what i would take for the painting, and they told me they had not thought of bidding until it should have reached a few hundred francs. but i told them i had got my bargain, and i meant to stick by it. when we returned next day to make arrangements for its being sent to us, the auctioneer informed us that the frame alone in which it had been sent for sale had cost three hundred francs, so that i was well satisfied with my purchase. this occurrence took place a short time before we returned to england, where we arrived long before the painting, which, with many others, was left to follow us by a cheaper and slower route. the sunday after we reached home (having seen no friends in the meanwhile), we walked into steinway hall to hear mr. fletcher's lecture. at its conclusion he passed as usual into a state of trance, and described what he saw before him. in the midst of mentioning people, places, and incidents unknown to us, he suddenly exclaimed: "now i see a very strange thing, totally unlike anything i have ever seen before, and i hardly know how to describe it. a man comes before me--a foreigner--and in a dress belonging to some monastic order, a brown robe of coarse cloth or flannel, with a rope round his waist and beads hanging, and bare feet and a shaved head. he is dragging a picture on to the platform, a very large painting in a frame, and it looks to me like a portrait of himself, kneeling on a carpet of burning wood. no! i am wrong. the man tells me the picture is _not_ a portrait of himself, but of the founder of his order, and it is in the possession of some people in this hall to-night. the man tells me to tell these people that it was _his_ spirit that influenced them to buy this painting at some place over the water, and he did so in order that they might keep it in remembrance of what they have done for him. and he desires that they shall hang that picture in some room where they may see it every day, that they may never forget the help which spirits on this earth may render by their prayers to spirits that have passed away. and he offers them through me his heartfelt thanks for the assistance given him, and he says the day is not far off when he shall pray for himself and for them, that their kindness may return into their own bosoms." * * * * * the oil painting reached england in safety some weeks afterwards, and was hung over the mantel-piece in our dining-room, where it remained, a familiar object to all our personal acquaintances. chapter xii. the mediumship of miss showers. some time before i had the pleasure of meeting miss showers, i heard, through friends living in the west of england, of the mysterious and marvellous powers possessed by a young lady of their acquaintance, who was followed by voices in the air, which held conversations with her, and the owners of which were said to have made themselves visible. i listened with curiosity, the more so, as my informants utterly disbelieved in spiritualism, and thought the phenomena were due to trickery. at the same time i conceived a great desire to see the girl of sixteen, who, for no gain or apparent object of her own, was so clever as to mystify everyone around her; and when she and her mother came to london, i was amongst the first to beg for an introduction, and i shall never forget the experiences i had with her. she was the first _private_ medium through whom my personal friends returned to converse with me; and no one but a spiritualist can appreciate the blessing of spiritual communications through a source that is above the breath of suspicion. i have already written at length about miss showers in "the story of john powles." she was a child, compared to myself, whose life had hardly commenced when mine was virtually over, and neither she, nor any member of her family, had ever had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with even the names of my former friends. yet (as i have related) john powles made miss showers his especial mouthpiece, and my daughter "florence" (then a little child) also appeared through her, though at long intervals, and rather timidly. her own controls, however, or cabinet spirits (as they call them in america)--_i.e._, such spirits as are always about the medium, and help the strangers to appear--"peter," "florence," "lenore," and "sally," were very familiar with me, and afforded me such facilities of testing their medium as do not often fall to the lot of inquirers. indeed, at one time, they always requested that i should be present at their _séances_, so that i considered myself to be highly favored. and i may mention here that miss showers and i were so much _en rapport_ that her manifestations were always much stronger in my presence. we could not sit next each other at an ordinary tea or supper table, when we had no thought of, or desire to hold a _séance_, without manifestations occurring in the full light. a hand, that did not belong to either of us, would make itself apparent under the table-cloth between us--a hand with power to grasp ours--or our feet would be squeezed or kicked beneath the table, or fingers would suddenly appear, and whisk the food off our plates. some of their jests were inconvenient. i have had the whole contents of a tumbler, which i was raising to my lips, emptied over my dress. it was generally known that our powers were sympathetic, and at last "peter" gave me leave, or, rather, ordered me to sit in the cabinet with "rosie," whilst the manifestations went on outside. he used to say he didn't care for me any more than if i had been "a spirit myself." one evening "peter" called me into the cabinet (which was simply a large box cupboard at one end of the dining-room) before the _séance_ began, and told me to sit down at the medium's feet and "be a good girl and keep quiet." miss showers was in a low chair, and i sat with my arms resting on her lap. she did not become entranced, and we talked the whole time together. presently, without any warning, two figures stood beside us. i could not have said where they came from. i neither saw them rise from the floor nor descend from the ceiling. there was no beginning to their appearance. in a moment they were simply _there_--"peter" and "florence" (not my child, but miss showers' control of the same names). "peter" sent "florence" out to the audience, where we heard her speaking to them and their remarks upon her (there being only a thin curtain hung before the entrance of the cabinet), but he stayed with us himself. we could not see him distinctly in the dim light, but we could distinctly hear and feel him. he changed our ornaments and ribbons, and pulled the hair-pins out of our hair, and made comments on what was going on outside. after a while "florence" returned to get more power, and both spirits spoke to and touched us at the same time. during the whole of this _séance_ my arms rested on miss showers' lap, and she was awake and talking to me about the spirits. one evening, at a sitting at mr. luxmore's house in hyde park square, the spirit "florence" had been walking amongst the audience in the lighted front drawing-room for a considerable time--even sitting at the piano and accompanying herself whilst she sung us a song in what she called "the planetary language." she greatly resembled her medium on that occasion, and several persons present remarked that she did so. i suppose the inferred doubt annoyed her, for before she finally left us she asked for a light, and a small oil lamp was brought to her which she placed in my hand, telling me to follow her and look at her medium, which i accordingly did. "florence" led the way into the back drawing-room, where i found miss showers reposing in an arm-chair. the first sight of her terrified me. for the purpose of making any change in her dress as difficult as possible, she wore a high, tight-fitting black velvet frock, fastened at the back, and high hessian boots, with innumerable buttons. but she now appeared to be shrunk to half her usual size, and the dress hung loosely on her figure. her arms had disappeared, but putting my hands up the dress sleeves, i found them diminished to the size of those of a little child--the fingers reaching only to where the elbows had been. the same miracle had happened to her feet, which only occupied half her boots. she looked in fact like the mummy of a girl of four or six years old. the spirit told me to feel her face. the forehead was dry, rough, and burning hot, but from the chin water was dropping freely on to the bosom of her dress. "florence" said to me, "i wanted _you_ to see her, because i know you are brave enough to tell people what you have seen." there was a marked difference in the personality of the two influences "florence" and "lenore," although both at times resembled miss showers, and sometimes more than others. "florence" was taller than her medium, and a very beautiful woman. "lenore" was much shorter and smaller, and not so pretty, but more vivacious and pert. by the invitation of mrs. macdougal gregory, i attended several _séances_ with miss showers at her residence in green street, when these spirits appeared. "lenore" was fond of saying that she wouldn't or couldn't come out unless _i_ held her hand, or put my arm round her waist. to tell the truth, i didn't care for the distinction, for this influence was very peculiar in some things, and to me she always appeared "uncanny," and to leave an unpleasant feeling behind her. she was seldom completely formed, and would hold up a foot which felt like wet clay, and had no toes to it, or not the proper quantity. on occasions, too, there was a charnel-house smell about her, as if she had been buried a few weeks and dug up again, an odor which i have never smelt from any materialized spirit before or after. one evening at mrs. gregory's, when "lenore" had insisted upon walking round the circle supported by my arm, i nearly fainted from the smell. it resembled nothing but that of a putrid corpse, and when she returned to the cabinet, i was compelled to leave the room and retch from the nausea it had caused me. it was on this occasion that the sitters called "lenore" so many times back into the circle, that all the power was gone, and she was in danger of melting away before their eyes. still they entreated her to remain with them a little longer. at last she grew impatient, and complained to me of their unreasonableness. she was then raised from the floor--actually floating just outside the curtain--and she asked me to put my hands up her skirts and convince myself that she was half-dematerialized. i did as she told me, and felt that she had _no legs_, although she had been walking round the room a few minutes before. i could feel nothing but the trunk of a body, which was completely lifted off the ground. her voice, too, had grown faint and her face indistinct, and in another moment she had totally disappeared. one evening at mrs. gregory's, after the _séance_ was concluded, "florence" looked round the curtain and called to me to come inside of it. i did so and found myself in total darkness. i said, "what's the good of my coming here? i can't see anything." "florence" took me by one hand, and answered, "i will lead you! don't be afraid." then some one else grasped my other hand, and "peter's" voice said, "we've got you safe. we want you to feel the medium." the two figures led me between them to the sofa on which miss showers was lying. they passed my hand all over her head and body. i felt, as before, her hands and feet shrunk to half their usual size, but her heart appeared to have become proportionately increased. when my hand was placed upon it, it was leaping up and down violently, and felt like a rabbit or some other live animal bounding in her bosom. her brain was burning as before, but her extremities were icy cold. there was no doubt at all of the abnormal condition into which the medium had been thrown, in order to produce these strong physical manifestations which were borrowed, for the time being, from her life, and could never (so they informed me) put the _whole_ of what they borrowed back again. this seems to account for the invariable deterioration of health and strength that follows physical manifestations in both sexes. these were the grounds alone on which they explained to me the fact that, on several occasions, when the materialized spirit has been violently seized and held apart from the medium, it has been found to have become, or been changed into the medium, and always with injury to the latter--as in the case of florence cook being seized by mr. volckman and sir george sitwell. mr. volckman concluded because when he seized the spirit "katie king," he found he was holding florence cook, that the latter must have impersonated the former; yet i shall tell you in its proper place how i have sat in the same room with "katie king," whilst miss cook lay in a trance between us. the medium nearly lost her life on the occasion alluded to, from the sudden disturbance of the mysterious link that bound her to the spirit. i have had it from the lips of the countess of caithness, who was one of the sitters, and stayed with miss cook till she was better, that she was in convulsions the whole night after, and that it was some time before they believed she would recover. if a medium could simulate a materialized spirit, it is hardly likely that she would (or could) simulate convulsions with a medical man standing by her bedside. "you see," said miss showers' "florence," whilst pointing out to me the decreased size of her medium under trance, "that 'rosie' is half her usual size and weight. _i_ have borrowed the other half from her, which, combined with contributions from the sitters, goes to make up the body in which i shew myself to you. if you seize and hold me tight, you _are_ holding her, _i.e._, half of her, and you increase the action of the vital half to such a degree that, if the two halves did not reunite, you would kill her. you see that i can detach certain particles from her organism for my own use, and when i dematerialize, i restore these particles to her, and she becomes once more her normal size. you only hurry the reunion by violently detaining me, so as to injure her. but you might drive her mad, or kill her in the attempt, because the particles of brain, or body, might become injured by such a violent collision. if you believe i can take them from her (as you see i do) in order to render my invisible body visible to you, why can't you believe i can make them fly together again on the approach of danger. and granted the one power, i see no difficulty in acknowledging the other." one day mrs. showers invited me to assist at a _séance_ to be given expressly for friends living at a distance. when i reached the house, however, i found the friends were unable to be present, and the meeting was adjourned. mrs. showers apologized for the alteration of plan, but i was glad of it. i had often sat with "rosie" in company with others, and i wanted to sit with her quite alone, or rather to sit with her in a room quite alone, and see what would spontaneously occur, without any solicitation on our parts. we accordingly annexed the drawing-room for our sole use--locked the door, extinguished the lights, and sat down on a sofa side by side, with our arms round each other. the manifestations that followed were not all nice ones. they formed an experience to be passed through once, but not willingly repeated, and i should not relate them here, excepting that they afford so strong a proof that they were produced by a power outside and entirely distinct from our own--a power, which having once called into action, we had no means of repressing. we had sat in the dark for some minutes, without hearing or seeing anything, when i thoughtlessly called out, "now, peter, do your worst," and extending my arms, singing, "come! for my arms are empty." in a moment a large, heavy figure fell with such force into my outstretched arms as to bruise my shoulder--it seemed like a form made of wood or iron, rather than flesh and blood--and the rough treatment that ensued for both of us is almost beyond description. it seemed as if the room were filled with materialized creatures, who were determined to let us know they were not to be trifled with. our faces and hands were slapped, our hair pulled down, and our clothes nearly torn off our backs. my silk skirt being separate from the bodice was torn off at the waistband, and the trimming ripped from it, and miss showers' muslin dress was also much damaged. we were both thoroughly frightened, but no expostulations or entreaties had any effect with our tormentors. at the same time we heard the sound as of a multitude of large birds or bats swooping about the room. the fluttering of wings was incessant, and we could hear them "scrooping" up and down the walls. in the midst of the confusion, "rosie" was whisked out of my arms (for fright had made us cling tighter than ever together) and planted on the top of a table at some distance from me, at which she was so frightened she began to cry, and i called out, "powles, where are you? can't you stop them?" my appeal was heard. peter's voice exclaimed, "hullo! here's powles coming!" and all the noise ceased. we heard the advent of my friend, and in another moment he was smoothing down the ruffled hair and arranging the disordered dresses and telling me to light the gas and not be frightened. as soon as i could i obeyed his directions and found rosie sitting doubled up in the centre of the table, but the rest of the room and furniture in its usual condition. "peter" and his noisy crowd had vanished--so had "powles," and there was nothing but our torn skirts and untidy appearance to prove that we had not been having an unholy dream. "peter" is not a wicked spirit--far from it--but he is a very earthly and frivolous one. but when we consider that nine-tenths of the spirits freed from the flesh are both earthly and frivolous (if not worse), i know not what right we have to expect to receive back angels in their stead. at one time when my sister blanche (who was very sceptical as to the possibility of the occurrences i related having taken place before me) was staying in my house at bayswater, i asked miss showers if she would give us a _séance_ in my own home, to which she kindly assented. this was an unusual concession on her part, because, in consequence of several accidents and scandals that had occurred from media being forcibly detained (as i have just alluded to), her mother was naturally averse to her sitting anywhere but in their own circle. however, on my promising to invite no strangers, mrs. showers herself brought her daughter to my house. we had made no preparation for the _séance_ except by opening part of the folding doors between the dining-room and study, and hanging a curtain over the aperture. but i had carefully locked the door of the study, so that there should be no egress from it excepting through the dining-room, and had placed against the locked door a heavy writing-table laden with books and ornaments to make "assurance doubly sure." we sat first in the drawing-room above, where there was a piano. the lights were extinguished, and miss showers sat down to the instrument and played the accompaniment to a very simple melody, "under the willow she's sleeping." four voices, sometimes alone and sometimes _all together_, accompanied her own. one was a baritone, supposed to proceed from "peter," the second, a soprano, from "lenore." the third was a rumbling bass, from an influence who called himself "the vicar of croydon," and sung in a fat, unctuous, and conceited voice; and the fourth was a cracked and quavering treble, from another spirit called "the abbess." these were the voices, mrs. showers told me, that first followed her daughter about the house in devonshire, and gained her such an unenviable notoriety there. the four voices were perfectly distinct from one another, and sometimes blended most ludicrously and tripped each other up in a way which made the song a medley--upon which each one would declare it was the fault of the other. "the vicar of croydon" always required a great deal of solicitation before he could be induced to exhibit his powers, but having once commenced, it was difficult to make him leave off again, whereas "the abbess" was always complaining that they would not allow her to sing the solos. an infant's voice also sung some baby songs in a sweet childish treble, but she was also very shy and seldom was heard, in comparison with the rest. "all ventriloquism!" i hear some reader cry. if so, miss showers ought to have made a fortune in exhibiting her talent in public. i have heard the best ventriloquists in the world, but i never heard one who could produce _four_ voices at the same time. after the musical portion of the _séance_ was over, we descended to the dining-room, where the gas was burning, and the medium passed through it to the secured study, where a mattress was laid upon the floor for her accommodation. "florence" was the first to appear, tall and beautiful in appearance, and with upraised eyes like a nun. she measured her height against the wall with me, and we found she was the taller of the two by a couple of inches,--my height being five feet six, the medium's five feet, and the spirit's five feet eight, an abnormal height for a woman. "lenore" came next, very short indeed, looking like a child of four or six, but she grew before our eyes, until her head was on a level with mine. she begged us all to observe that she had _not_ got on "rosie's" petticoat body. she said she had borrowed it on one occasion, and mrs. showers had recognized it, and slipped upstairs in the middle of the _séance_ and found it missing from her daughter's chest of drawers, and that she had been so angry in consequence (fearing rosie's honor might be impeached) that she said if "lenore" did not promise never to do so again, she should not be allowed to assist at the _séances_ at all. so miss "lenore," in rather a pert and defiant mood, begged mrs. showers to see that what she wore was her own property, and not that of the medium. she was succeeded on that occasion by a strange being, totally different from the other two, who called herself "sally," and said she had been a cook. she was one of those extraordinary influences for whose return to earth one can hardly account; quick, and clever, and amusing as she could be, but with an unrefined wit and manner, and to all appearance, more earthly-minded than ourselves. but do we not often ask the same question with respect to those still existent here below? what were they born for? what good do they do? why were they ever permitted to come? god, without whose permission nothing happens, alone can answer it. we had often to tease "peter" to materialize and show himself, but he invariably refused, or postponed the work to another occasion. his excuse was that the medium being so small, he could not obtain sufficient power from her to make himself appear as a big man, and he didn't like to come, "looking like a girl in a billycock hat." "i came once to mrs. showers," he said, "and she declared i was 'rosie' dressed up, and so i have resolved never to show myself again." at the close of that _séance_, however, "peter" asked me to go into the study and see him wake the medium. when i entered it and made my way up to the mattress, i found miss showers extended on it in a deep sleep, whilst "peter," materialized, sat at her feet. he made me sit down next to him and take his hand and feel his features with my own hand. then he proceeded to rouse "rosie" by shaking her and calling her by name, holding me by one hand, as he did so. as miss showers yawned and woke up from her trance, the hand slipped from mine, and "peter" evaporated. when she sat up i said to her gently, "i am here! peter brought me in and was sitting on the mattress by my side till just this moment." "ha, ha!" laughed his voice close to my ear, "and i'm here still, my dears, though you can't see me." who can account for such things? i have witnessed them over and over again, yet i am unable, even to this day, to do more than believe and wonder. chapter xiii. the mediumship of william eglinton. in the stones i have related of "emily" and "the monk" i have alluded freely to the wonderful powers exhibited by william eglinton, but the marvels there spoken of were by no means the only ones i have witnessed through his mediumship. at the _séance_ which produced the apparition of my sister emily, mr. eglinton's control "joey" made himself very familiar. "joey" is a remarkably small man--perhaps two-thirds lighter in weight than the medium--and looks more like a little jockey than anything else, though he says he was a clown whilst in this world, and claims to be the spirit of the immortal joe grimaldi. he has always appeared to us clothed in a tight-fitting white dress like a woven jersey suit, which makes him look still smaller than he is. he usually keeps up a continuous chatter, whether visible or invisible, and is one of the cleverest and kindest controls i know. he is also very devotional, for which the public will perhaps give him as little credit now as they did whilst he was on earth. on the first occasion of our meeting in the russell street rooms he did not show himself until quite the last, but he talked incessantly of and for the other spirits that appeared. my sister was, as i have said, the first to show herself--then came an extraordinary apparition. on the floor, about three feet from the cabinet, appeared a head--only the head and throat of a dark man, with black beard and moustaches, surmounted by the white turban usually worn by natives. it did not speak, but the eyes rolled and the lips moved, as if it tried to articulate, but without success. "joey" said the spirit came for colonel lean, and was that of a foreigner who had been decapitated. colonel lean could not recognize the features; but, strange to say, he had been present at the beheading of two natives in japan who had been found guilty of murdering some english officers, and we concluded from "joey's" description that this must be the head of one of them. i knelt down on the floor and put my face on a level with that of the spirit, that i might assure myself there was no body attached to it and concealed by the curtain of the cabinet, and i can affirm that it was _a head only_, resting on the neck--that its eyes moved and its features worked, but that there was nothing further on the floor. i questioned it, and it evidently tried hard to speak in return. the mouth opened and the tongue was thrust out, and made a sort of dumb sound, but was unable to form any words, and after a while the head sunk through the floor and disappeared. if this was not one of the pleasantest apparitions i have seen, it was one of the most remarkable. there was no possibility of trickery or deception. the decapitated head rested in full sight of the audience, and had all the peculiarities of the native appearance and expression. after this the figures of two or three englishmen came, friends of others of the audience--then "joey" said he would teach us how to "make muslin." he walked right outside the cabinet, a quaint little figure, not much bigger than a boy of twelve or thirteen, with a young, old face, and dressed in the white suit i have described. he sat down by me and commenced to toss his hands in the air, as though he were juggling with balls, saying the while, "this is the way we make ladies' dresses." as he did so, a small quantity of muslin appeared in his hands, which he kept on moving in the same manner, whilst the flimsy fabric increased and increased before our eyes, until it rose in billows of muslin above "joey's" head and fell over his body to his feet, and enveloped him until he was completely hidden from view. he kept on chattering till the last moment from under the heap of snowy muslin, telling us to be sure and "remember how he made ladies' dresses"--when, all of a sudden, in the twinkling of an eye, the heap of muslin rose into the air, and before us stood the tall figure of "abdullah," mr. eglinton's eastern guide. there had been no darkness, no pause to effect this change. the muslin had remained on the spot where it was fabricated until "joey" evaporated, and "abdullah" rose up from beneath it. now "abdullah" is not a spirit to be concealed easily. he is six foot two--a great height for a native--and his high turban adds to his stature. he is a very handsome man, with an aquiline nose and bright black eyes--a persian, i believe, by birth, and naturally dark in complexion. he does not speak english, but "salaams" continually, and will approach the sitters when requested, and let them examine the jewels, of which he wears a large quantity in his turban and ears and round his throat, or to show them and let them feel that he has lost one arm, the stump being plainly discernible through his thin clothing. "abdullah" possesses all the characteristics of the eastern nation, which are unmistakable to one who, like myself, has been familiar with them in the flesh. his features are without doubt those of a persian; so is his complexion. his figure is long and lithe and supple, as that of a cat, and he can bend to the ground and rise again with the utmost ease and grace. anybody who could pretend for a moment to suppose that mr. eglinton by "making up" could personate "abdullah" must be a fool. it would be an impossibility, even were he given unlimited time and assistance, to dress for the character. there is a peculiar boneless elasticity in the movements of a native which those who have lived in the east know that no englishmen can imitate successfully. "abdullah's" hand and feet also possess all the characteristics of his nationality, being narrow, long and nerveless, although i have heard that he can give rather too good a grip with his one hand when he chooses to exert his power or to show his dislike to any particular sitter. he has always, however, shown the utmost urbanity towards us, but he is not a particularly friendly or familiar spirit. when "abdullah" had retired on this occasion, "joey" drew back the curtain that shaded the cabinet, and showed us his medium and himself. there sat mr. eglinton attired in evening dress, with the front of his shirt as smooth and spotless as when it left the laundress' hands, lying back in his chair in a deep sleep, whilst little joey sat astride his knee, his white suit contrasting strangely with his medium's black trousers. whilst in this position he kissed mr. eglinton several times, telling him to wake up, and not look so sulky; then, having asked if we all saw him distinctly, and were satisfied he was not the medium, he bade god bless us, and the curtains closed once more upon this incomprehensible scene. mr. eglinton subsequently became an intimate friend of ours, and we often had the pleasure of sitting with him, but we never saw anything more wonderful (to my mind) than we did on our first acquaintance. when he accompanied us to bruges (as told in the history of the "monk"), "joey" took great trouble to prove to us incontrovertibly that he is not an "emanation," or double, of his medium, but a creature completely separate and wholly distinct. my sister's house being built on a very old-fashioned principle, had all the bedrooms communicating with each other. the entresol in which we usually assembled formed the connecting link to a series of six chambers, all of which opened into each other, and the entrance to the first and last of which was from the entresol. we put mr. eglinton into no. , locking the connecting door with no. , so that he had no exit except into our circle as we sat round the curtain, behind which we placed his chair. "joey" having shown himself outside the curtain, informed us he was going through the locked door at the back into our bedrooms, nos. , and , and would bring us something from each room. accordingly, in another minute we heard his voice in no. , commenting on all he saw there; then he passed into no. , and so on, making a tour of the rooms, until he appeared at the communicating door of no. , and threw an article taken from each room into the entresol. he then told us to lift the curtain and inspect the medium, which we did, finding him fast asleep in his chair, with the door behind him locked. "joey" then returned by the way he had gone, and presented himself once more outside the cabinet, the key of the locked door being all the time in our possession. "ernest" is another well-known control of mr. eglinton's, though he seldom appears, except to give some marvellous test or advice. he is a very earnest, deep-feeling spirit, like his name, and his symbol is a cross of light; sometimes large and sometimes small, but always bright and luminous. "ernest" seldom shows his whole body. it is generally only his face that is apparent in the midst of the circle, a more convincing manifestation for the sceptic or inquirer than any number of bodies which are generally attributed to the chicanery of the medium. "ernest" always speaks in the direct voice in a gentle, bass tone, entirely distinct from "joey's" treble, and his appearance is usually indicative of a harmonious and successful meeting. "daisy," a north american indian girl, is another control of william eglinton's, but i have only heard her speak in trance. i do not know which of these spirits it is who conducts the manifestations of writing on the arm, with which mr. eglinton is very successful; sometimes it seems to be one, and sometimes the other. as he was sitting with our family at supper one evening, i mentally asked "joey" to write something on some part of his body where his hand could not reach. this was in order to prove that the writing had not been prepared by chemical means beforehand, as some people are apt to assert. in a short time mr. eglinton was observed to stop eating, and grow very fidgety and look uncomfortable, and on being questioned as to the cause, he blushed and stammered, and could give no answer. after a while he rose from table, and asked leave to retire to his room. the next morning he told us that he had been so uneasy at supper, it had become impossible for him to sit it out; that on reaching his room he had found that his back, which irritated him as though covered with a rash, _had a sentence written across it_, of which he could only make out a few words by looking at it backwards in a glass; and as there were only ladies in the house beside himself, he could not call in an interpreter to his assistance. one day, without consulting him, i placed a small card and a tiny piece of black lead between the leaves of a volume of the _leisure hour_, and asked him to hold the book with me on the dining table. i never let the book out of my hand, and it was so thick that i had difficulty afterwards in finding my card (from the corner of which i had torn a piece) again. mr. eglinton sat with me in the daylight with the family about, and all he did was to place his hand on mine, which rested on the book. the perspiration ran down his face whilst he did so, but there was no other sign of power, and, honestly, i did not expect to find any writing on my card. when i had shaken it out of the leaves of the book, however, i found a letter closely written on it from my daughter "florence" to this effect:-- "dear mama,--i am so glad to be able to communicate with you again, and to demonstrate by actual fact that i am really present. of course, you quite understand that i do not write this myself. 'charlie' is present with me, and so are many more, and we all unite in sending you our love. "your daughter, florence." mr. eglinton's mediumship embraces various phases of phenomena, as may be gathered from his own relations of them, and the testimony of his friends. a narrative of his spiritual work, under the title of "'twixt two worlds," has been written and published by mr. john t. farmer, and contains some exhaustive descriptions of, and testimonies to, his undoubtedly wonderful gifts. in it appear several accounts written by myself, and which, for the benefit of such of my readers as have not seen the book in question, i will repeat here. the first is that of the "monk," given _in extenso_, as i have given it in the eleventh chapter of this book. the second is of a _séance_ held on the th september, . the circle consisted of mr. and mrs. stewart, colonel and mrs. wynch, mr. and mrs. russell-davies, mr. morgan, and colonel lean and myself, and was held in mr. eglinton's private chambers in quebec street. we sat in the front drawing-room, with one gas-burner alight, and the door having been properly secured, mr. eglinton went into the back room, which was divided by curtains from the front. he had not left us a couple of minutes before a man stepped out through the _portière_, and walked right into the midst of us. he was a large, stout man, and very dark, and most of the sitters remarked that he had a very peculiar smell. no one recognized him, and after appearing two or three times he left, and was _immediately_ succeeded by a woman, very much like him, who also had to leave us without any recognition. these two spirits, before taking a final leave, came out _together_, and seemed to examine the circle curiously. after a short interval a much smaller and slighter man came forward, and darted in a peculiar slouching attitude round the circle. colonel lean asked him to shake hands. he replied by seizing his hand, and nearly dragging him off his seat. he then darted across the room, and gave a similar proof of his muscular power to mr. stewart. but when i asked him to notice _me_, he took my hand and squeezed it firmly between his own. he had scarcely disappeared before "abdullah," with his one arm and his six feet two of height, stood before us, and salaamed all round. then came my daughter florence, a girl of nineteen by that time, very slight and feminine in appearance. she advanced two or three times, near enough to touch me with her hand, but seemed fearful to approach nearer. but the next moment she returned, dragging mr. eglinton after her. he was in deep trance, breathing with difficulty, but "florence" held him by the hand and brought him up to my side, when he detached my hands from those of the sitters either side of me, and making me stand up, he placed my daughter in my arms. as she stood folded in my embrace, she whispered a few words to me relative to a subject _known to no one but myself_, and she placed my hand upon her heart, that i might feel she was a living woman. colonel lean asked her to go to him. she tried and failed, but having retreated behind the curtain to gather strength, she appeared the second time _with mr. eglinton_, and calling colonel lean to her, embraced him. this is one of the most perfect instances on record of a spirit form being seen distinctly by ten witnesses with the medium under gas. the next materialization that appeared was for mr. stewart. this gentleman was newly arrived from australia, and a stranger to mr. eglinton. as soon as he saw the female form, who beckoned him to the _portière_ to speak to her, he exclaimed, "my god! pauline," with such genuine surprise and conviction as were unmistakable. the spirit then whispered to him, and putting her arms round his neck, affectionately kissed him. he turned after a while, and addressing his wife, told her that the spirit bore the very form and features of their niece pauline, whom they had lost the year before. mr. stewart expressed himself entirely satisfied with the identity of his niece, and said she looked just as she had done before she was taken ill. i must not omit to say that the medium also appeared with this figure, making the third time of showing himself in one evening with the spirit form. the next apparition, being the seventh that appeared, was that of a little child apparently about two years old, who supported itself in walking by holding on to a chair. i stooped down, and tried to talk to this baby, but it only cried in a fretful manner, as though frightened at finding itself with strangers, and turned away. the attention of the circle was diverted from this sight by seeing "abdullah" dart between the curtains, and stand with the child in our view, whilst mr. eglinton appeared at the same moment between the two forms, making a _tria juncta in uno_. thus ended the _séance_. the second one of which i wrote took place on the th of the same month, and under very similar circumstances. the circle this time consisted of mrs. wheeler, mr. woods, mr. gordon, the honorable gordon sandeman, my daughter eva, my son frank, colonel lean, and myself. mr. eglinton appeared on this occasion to find some difficulty in passing under control, and he came out so frequently into the circle to gather power, that i guessed we were going to have uncommonly good manifestations. the voice of "joey," too, begged us under _no circumstances whatever_, to lose hands, as they were going to try something very difficult, and we might defeat their efforts at the very moment of victory. when the medium was at last under control in the back drawing room, a tall man, with an uncovered head of dark hair, and a large beard, appeared and walked up to a lady in the company. she was very much affected by the recognition of the spirit, which she affirmed to be that of her brother. she called him by name and kissed him, and informed us, that he was just as he had been in earth life. her emotion was so great, we thought she would have fainted, but after a while she became calm again. we next heard the notes of a clarionet. i had been told that mr. woods (a stranger just arrived from the antipodes) had lost a brother under peculiarly distressing circumstances, and that he hoped (though hardly expected) to see his brother that evening. it was the first time i had ever seen mr. woods; yet so remarkable was the likeness between the brothers, that when a spirit appeared with a clarionet in his hand, i could not help knowing who it was, and exclaimed, "oh, mr. woods, there is your brother!" the figure walked up to mr. woods and grasped his hand. as they appeared thus with their faces turned to one another, they were _strikingly_ alike both in feature and expression. this spirit's head was also bare, an unusual occurrence, and covered with thick, crisp hair. he appeared twice, and said distinctly, "god bless you!" each time to his brother. mrs. wheeler, who had known the spirit in earth life, was startled by the tone of the voice, which she recognized at once; and mr. morgan, who had been an intimate friend of his in australia, confirmed the recognition. we asked mr. woods the meaning of the clarionet, which was a black one, handsomely inlaid with silver. he told us his brother had been an excellent musician, and had won a similar instrument as a prize at some musical competition. "but," he added wonderingly, "his clarionet is locked up in my house in australia." my daughter "florence" came out next, but only a little way, at which i was disappointed, but "joey" said they were reserving the strength for a manifestation further on. he then said, "here comes a friend for mr. sandeman," and a man, wearing the masonic badge and scarf, appeared, and made the tour of the circle, giving the masonic grip to those of the craft present. he was a good looking young man, and said he had met some of those present in australia, but no one seemed to recognize him. he was succeeded by a male figure, who had materialized on the previous occasion. as he passed through the curtain, a female figure appeared beside him, bearing a very bright light, as though to show him the way. she did not come beyond the _portière_, but every one in the room saw her distinctly. on account of the dress and complexion of the male figure, we had wrongly christened him "the bedouin;" but my son, frank marryat, who is a sailor, now found out he was an east indian by addressing him in hindustani, to which he responded in a low voice. some one asked him to take a seat amongst us, upon which he seized a heavy chair in one hand and flourished it above his head. he then squatted, native fashion, on his haunches on the floor and left us, as before, by vanishing suddenly. "joey" now announced that they were going to try the experiment of "_showing us how the spirits were made from the medium_." this was the crowning triumph of the evening. mr. eglinton appeared in the very midst of us in trance. he entered the room backwards, and as if fighting with the power that pushed him in, his eyes were shut, and his breath was drawn with difficulty. as he stood thus, holding on to a chair for support, an airy mass like a cloud of tobacco smoke was seen on his left hip, his legs became illuminated by lights travelling up and down them, and a white film settled about his head and shoulders. the mass increased, and he breathed harder and harder, whilst invisible hands _pulled the filmy drapery out of his hip_ in long strips, that amalgamated as soon as formed, and fell to the ground to be succeeded by others. the cloud continued to grow thicker, and we were eagerly watching the process, when, in the twinkling of an eye, the mass had evaporated, and a spirit, full formed, stood beside him. no one could say _how_ it had been raised in the very midst of us, nor whence it came, but _it was there_. mr. eglinton then retired with the new-born spirit behind the curtains, but in another moment he came (or he was thrown out) amongst us again, and fell upon the floor. the curtains opened again, and the full figure of "ernest" appeared and raised the medium by the hand. as he saw him, mr. eglinton fell on his knees, and "ernest" drew him out of sight. thus ended the second of these two wonderful _séances_. thus published reports of them were signed with the full names and addresses of those who witnessed them. william eglinton's powers embrace various phases of phenomena, amongst which levitation is a common occurrence; indeed, i do not think i have ever sat with him at a _séance_ during which he has _not_ been levitated. i have seen him on several occasions rise, or be carried, into the air, so that his head touched the ceiling, and his feet were above the sitters' heads. on one occasion whilst sitting with him a perfectly new manifestation was developed. as each spirit came the name was announced, written on the air in letters of fire, which moved round the circle in front of the sitters. as the names were those of friends of the audience and not of friends of mr. eglinton, and the phenomenon ended with a letter written to me in the same manner on private affairs, it could not be attributed to a previously arranged trick. i have accompanied mr. eglinton, in the capacity of interpreter, to a professional _séance_ in paris consisting of some forty persons, not one of whom could speak a word of english whilst he was equally ignorant of foreign languages. and i have heard french and german spirits return through him to converse with their friends, who were radiant with joy at communicating with them again, whilst their medium could not (had he been conscious) have understood or pronounced a single word of all the news he was so glibly repeating. i will conclude this testimony to his powers by the account of a sitting with him for slate writing--that much abused and most maligned manifestation. because a few ignorant pig-headed people who have never properly investigated the science of spiritualism decide that a thing cannot be, "because it can't," men of honor and truth are voted charlatans and tricksters, and those who believe in them fools and blind. the day will dawn yet when it will be seen which of the two classes best deserve the name. some years ago, when i first became connected in business with mr. edgar lee of the _st. stephen's review_, i found him much interested in the subject of spiritualism, though he had never had an opportunity of investigating it, and through my introduction i procured him a test _séance_ with william eglinton. we met one afternoon at the medium's house in nottingham place for that purpose, and sat at an ordinary table in the back dining-room for slate-writing. the slate used on the occasion (as mr. lee had neglected to bring his own slate as requested) was one which was presented to mr. eglinton by mr. gladstone. it consisted of two slates of medium size, set in mahogany frames, with box hinges, and which, when shut, were fastened with a bramah lock and key. on the table cloth was a collection of tiny pieces of different colored chalk. in the front room, which was divided from us by folding doors, were some bookcases. mr. eglinton commenced by asking mr. lee to go into the front room by himself, and select, in his mind's eye, any book he chose as the one from which extracts should be given. mr. lee having done as he was told, returned to his former place beside us, without giving a hint as to which book he had selected. mr. gladstone's slate was then delivered over to him to clean with sponge and water; that done, he was directed to choose four pieces of chalk and place them between the slates, to lock them and retain the key. the slates were left on the table in the sight of all; mr. lee's hand remained on them all the time. all that mr. eglinton did was to place _his_ hand above mr. lee's. "you chose, i think," he commenced, "four morsels of chalk--white, blue, yellow and red. please say which word, on which line, on which page of the book you selected just now, the white chalk shall transcribe." mr. lee answered (i forget the exact numbers) somewhat in this wise, "the rd word on the th line of the nd page," he having, it must be remembered, no knowledge of the contents of the volume, which he had not even touched with his hand. immediately he had spoken, a scratching noise was heard between the two slates. when it ceased, mr. eglinton put the same question with regard to the blue, yellow and red chalks, which was similarly responded to. he then asked mr. lee to unlock the slates, read the words, and then fetch the book he had selected, and compare notes, and in each instance the word had been given correctly. several other experiments were then made, equally curious, the number of mr. lee's watch, which he had not taken from his pocket, and which he said he did not know himself, being amongst them. then mr. eglinton said to mr. lee, "have you any friend in the spirit-world from whom you would like to hear? if so, and you will mentally recall the name, we will try and procure some writing from him or her." (i must say here that these two were utter strangers to each other, and had met for the first time that afternoon, and indeed [as will be seen by the context] _i_ had a very slight knowledge of mr. edgar lee myself at that time.) mr. lee thought for a moment, and then replied that there was a dead friend of his from whom he should like to hear. the cleaning and locking process was gone through again, and the scratching re-commenced, and when it concluded, mr. lee unlocked the slates and read a letter to this effect:-- "my dear will,--i am quite satisfied with your decision respecting bob. by all means, send him to the school you are thinking of. he will get on better there. his education requires more pushing than it gets at present. thanks for all you have done for him. god bless you.--your affectionate cousin, r. tasker." i do not pretend to give the exact words of this letter; for though they were afterwards published, i have not a copy by me. but the gist of the experiment does not lie in the exactitude of the words. when i saw the slate, i looked at mr. lee in astonishment. "who is it for?" i asked. "it is all right," he replied; "it is for me. it is from my cousin, who left his boy in my charge. _my real name is william tasker._" now, i had never heard it hinted before that edgar lee was only a _nom de plume_, and the announcement came on me as a genuine surprise. so satisfied was mr. william tasker edgar lee with his experimental _séance_, that he had the slate photographed and reproduced in the _st. stephen's review_, with an account of the whole proceedings, which were sufficient to make any one stop for a moment in the midst of the world's harassing duties and think. chapter xiv. the mediumship of arthur colman. arthur colman was so intimate a friend of mr. eglinton's, and so much associated with him in my thoughts in the days when i first knew them both, that it seems only natural that i should write of him next. his powers were more confined to materialization than eglinton's, but in that he excelled. he is the most wonderful materializing medium i ever met in england; but of late years, owing to the injury it did him in his profession, he has been compelled, in justice to himself, to give up sitting for physical manifestations, and, indeed, sitting at all, except to oblige his friends. i cannot but consider this decision on his part as a great public loss; but until the public takes more interest in the next world than they do in this, it will not make it worth the while of such as mr. colman to devote their lives, health and strength to their enlightenment. for to be a good physical medium means literally to part, little by little, with one's own life, and no man can be expected to do so much for the love of a set of unbelievers and sceptics, who will use up all his powers, and then go home to call him a rogue and a cheat and a trickster. if, as i am persuaded, each one of us is surrounded by the influences we gather of our own free-will about us--the loving and noble-hearted by angels, the selfish and unbelieving by devils--and we consider how the latter preponderate over the former in this world, is it to be wondered at that most _séances_ are conducted by an assemblage of evil spirits brought there by the sitters themselves? sceptical, blasphemous and sensual men and women collect together to try and find out the falsehood, _not the truth_, of spiritualism, and are tricked by the very influences that attend their footsteps and direct their daily lives; and therein lies the danger of spiritualism as a pursuit, taken up out of curiosity rather than a desire to learn. it gives increased power to the evil that surrounds ourselves, and the devil that goes out of us returns with seven other devils worse than himself. the drunkard, who, by giving rein to a weakness which he knows he should resist, has attracted to him the spirits of drunkards gone before, joins a _séance_, and by the collaboration of forces, as it were, bestows increased power on the guides he has chosen for himself to lead him into greater evil. this dissertation, however, called forth by the never-ceasing wonder i feel at the indifference of the world towards such sights as i have seen, has led me further than i intended from the subject of my chapter. arthur colman is a young man of delicate constitution and appearance, who was at one time almost brought down to death's door by the demands made by physical phenomena upon his strength; but since he has given up sitting, he has regained his health, and looks quite a different person. this fact proves of itself what a tax is laid upon the unfortunate medium for such manifestations. since he has resolved, however, never to sit again, i am all the more anxious to record what i have seen through him, probably for the last time. when i first knew my husband colonel lean, he had seen nothing of spiritualism, and was proportionately curious, and naturally a little sceptical on the subject, or, rather let me say, incredulous. he was hardly prepared to receive all the marvels i told him of without proof; and mr. colman's guide, "aimée," was very anxious to convince him of their truth. she arranged, therefore, a _séance_ at which he was to be present, and which was to be held at the house of mr. and mrs. george neville. the party dined there together previously, and consisted only of mr. and mrs. neville, arthur colman, colonel lean, and myself. as we were in the drawing-room, however, after dinner, and before we had commenced the _séance_, an american lady, who was but slightly known to any of us, was announced. we had particularly wished to have no strangers present, and her advent proportionately annoyed us, but we did not know on what excuse to get rid of her. she was a pushing sort of person; and when mrs. neville told her we were going to hold a _séance_, as a sort of hint that she might take her leave, it only made her resolve to stay; indeed, she declared she had had a premonition of the fact. she said that whilst in her own room that morning, a figure had appeared standing by her bed, dressed in blue and white, like the pictures of the virgin mary, and that all day she had had an impression that she must spend the evening with the nevilles, and she should hear something more about it. we could not get rid of the lady, so we were obliged to ask her to remain and assist at the _séance_, which she had already made up her mind to do, so we commenced our preparations. the two drawing-rooms communicated by folding doors, which were opened, and a _portière_ drawn across the opening. in the back room we placed mr. colman's chair. he was dressed in a light grey suit, which we secured in the following manner:--his hands were first sewn inside the sleeves of the coat, then his arms were placed behind his back, and the coat sleeves sewn together to the elbow. we then sewed his trouser legs together in the same way. we then tied him round the throat, waist and legs with _white cotton_, which the least movement on his part would break, and the ends of each ligament were sealed to the wall of the room with wax and stamped with my seal with "_florence marryat_" on it. considering him thus secure, without any _possibility_ of escape unless we discovered it, we left him in the back room, and arranged ourselves on a row of five chairs before the _portière_ in the front one, which was lighted by a single gas-burner. i sat at the head of the row, then the american lady, mrs. neville, colonel lean and mr. neville. i am not sure how long we waited for the manifestations; but i do not think it was many minutes before a female figure glided from the side of the curtain and took a vacant chair by my side. i said, "_who is this?_" and she whispered, "_florence_," and laid her head down on my shoulder, and kissed my neck. i was turning towards her to distinguish her features more fully, when i became aware that a second figure was standing in front of me, and "florence" said "mother, there is powles;" and at the same time, as he bent down to speak to me, his beard touched my face. i had not had time to draw the attention of my friends to the spirits that stood by me, when i was startled by hearing one exclamation after another from the various sitters. the american lady called out, "there's the woman that came to me this morning." mr. neville said, "that is my father," and colonel lean was asking some one if he would not give his name, i looked down the line of sitters. before colonel lean there stood an old man with a long, white beard; a somewhat similar figure was in front of mr. neville. before the dark curtain appeared a woman dressed in blue and white, like a nun; and meanwhile, "florence" and "powles" still maintained their station by my side. as if this were not enough of itself to turn a mortal's brain, the _portière_ was at the same moment drawn aside, and there stood arthur colman in his grey suit, freed from all his bonds, but under the control of "aimée," who called out joyously to my husband, "_now, frank, will you believe?_" she dropped the curtain, the apparitions glided or faded away, and we passed into the back drawing-room, to find mr. colman still in trance, just as we had left him, and _with all the seals and stitches_ intact. not a thread of them all was broken. this is the largest number of spirits i have ever seen at one time with one medium. i have seen two materialized spirits at a time, and even three, from mr. williams and miss showers and katie cook; but on this occasion there were five apparent with the medium, all standing together before us. and this is the sort of thing that the majority of people do not consider it worth their while to take a little trouble to see. i have already related how successfully "florence" used to materialize through this medium, and numerous friends, utterly unknown to him, have revisited us through his means. his trance mediumship is as wonderful as his physical phenomena; some people might think more so. amongst others, two spirits have come back to us through mr. colman, neither of whom he knew in this life, and both of whom are, in their way, too characteristic to be mistaken. one is phillis glover the actress; the other my stepson, francis lean, who was drowned by an accident at sea. phillis glover was a woman who led a very eventful life, chiefly in america, and was a versatile genius in conversation, as in everything else. she was peculiar also, and had a half-yankee way of talking, and a store of familiar sayings and anecdotes, which she constantly introduced into her conversation. she was by no means an ordinary person whilst in this life, and in order to imitate her manner and speech successfully, one would need to be as clever a person as herself. and, without wishing to derogate from the powers of mr. colman's mind, he knows, and i know, that phillis glover was cleverer than either of us. when her influence or spirit therefore returns through him, it is quite unmistakable. it is not only that she retains all her little tricks of voice and feature and manner (which mr. colman has never seen), but she alludes to circumstances that took place in this life and people she was associated with here that he has never heard of. more, she will relate her old stories and anecdotes, and sing her old songs, and give the most incontrovertible tests of her identity, even to recalling facts and incidents that have entirely passed from our minds. when she appears through him, it is phillis glover we are sitting with again and talking with, as familiarly as we did in the days gone by. "francis," in his way too, is quite as remarkable. the circumstances of his death and the events leading to it were unknown to us, till he related them through mr. colman; and he speaks to us of the contents of private letters, and repeats conversations and alludes to circumstances and names that are known only to him and ourselves. he had a peculiar manner also--quick and nervous--and a way of cutting his words short, which his spirit preserves to the smallest particular, and which furnish the strongest proofs possible of his identity to those who knew him here below. but these are but a very few amongst the innumerable tests furnished by arthur colman's occult powers of the assured possibility of communicating with the spirits of those gone before us. chapter xv. the mediumship of mrs. guppy volckman. the mediumship of this lady is so well known, and has been so universally attested, that nothing i can write of could possibly add to her fame; and as i made her acquaintance but a short time before she relinquished sitting for manifestations, i have had but little experience of her powers, but such as i enjoyed were very remarkable. i have alluded to them in the story of "the green lady," whose apparition was due solely to mrs. guppy volckman's presence, and on that occasion she gave us another wonderful proof of her mediumship. a sheet was procured and held up at either end by mr. charles williams and herself. it was held in the light, in the centre of the room, forming a white wall of about five feet high, _i.e._, as high as their arms could conveniently reach. _both_ the hands of mrs. volckman and mr. williams were placed _outside_ the sheet, so that no trickery might be suspected through their being concealed. in a short time the head of a woman appeared above the sheet, followed by that of a man, and various pairs of hands, both large and small, which bobbed up and down, and seized the hands of the spectators, whilst the faces went close to the media, as if with the intention of kissing them. this frightened mrs. volckman, so that she frequently screamed and dropped her end of the sheet, which, had there been any deception, must inevitably have exposed it. it seemed to make no difference to the spirits, however, who reappeared directly they had the opportunity, and made her at last so nervous that she threw the sheet down and refused to hold it any more. the faces were life-size, and could move their eyes and lips; the hands were some as large as a man's, and covered with hair, and others like those of a woman or child. they had all the capability of working the fingers and grasping objects presented to them; whilst the four hands belonging to the media were kept in sight of the audience, and could not have worked machinery even if they could have concealed it. the first time i was introduced to mrs. volckman (then mrs. guppy) was at a _séance_ at her own house in victoria road, where she had assembled a large party of guests, including several names well known in art and literature. we sat in a well-lighted drawing-room, and the party was so large that the circle round the table was three deep. mrs. mary hardy, the american medium (since dead), was present, and the honors of the manifestations may be therefore, i conclude, divided between the two ladies. the table, a common deal one, made for such occasions, with a round hole of about twenty inches in diameter in the middle of it, was covered with a cloth that hung down, and was nailed to the ground, leaving only the aperture free. (i must premise that this cloth had been nailed down by a committee of the gentlemen visitors, in order that there might be no suspicion of a confederate hidden underneath it.) we then sat round the table, but without placing our hands on it. in a short time hands began to appear through the open space in the table, all sorts of hands, from the woman's taper fingers and the baby's dimpled fist, to the hands of old and young men, wrinkled or muscular. some of the hands had rings on the fingers, by which the sitters recognized them, some stretched themselves out to be grasped; and some appeared in pairs, clasped together or separate. one hand took a glove from a sitter and put it on the other, showing the muscular force it possessed by the way in which it pressed down each finger and then buttoned the glove. another pair of hands talked through the dumb alphabet to us, and a third played on a musical instrument. i was leaning forward, before i had witnessed the above, peering inquisitively down the hole, and saying, "i wonder if they would have strength to take anything down with them," when a large hand suddenly appeared and very nearly took _me_ down, by seizing my nose as if it never meant to let go again. at all events, it took me a peg or two down, for i remember it brought the tears into my eyes with the force it exhibited. after the hands had ceased to appear, the table was moved away, and we sat in a circle in the light. mrs. guppy did not wish to take a part in the _séance_, except as a spectator, so she retired to the back drawing-room with the baroness adelma vay and other visitors, and left mrs. hardy with the circle in the front. suddenly, however, she was levitated and carried in the sight of us all into the midst of our circle. as she felt herself rising in the air, she called out, "don't let go hands for heaven's sake." we were standing in a ring, and i had hold of the hand of prince albert of solms. as mrs. guppy came sailing over our heads, her feet caught his neck and mine, and in our anxiety to do as she had told us, we gripped tight hold of each other, and were thrown forward on our knees by the force with which she was carried past us into the centre. this was a pretty strong proof to us, whatever it may be to others, that our senses did not deceive us when we thought we saw mrs. guppy over our heads in the air. the influence that levitated her, moreover, placed her on a chair with such a bump that it broke the two front legs off. as soon as mrs. guppy had rejoined us, the order was given to put out the light and to wish for something. we unanimously asked for flowers, it being the middle of december, and a hard frost. simultaneously we smelt the smell of fresh earth, and were told to light the gas again, when the following extraordinary sight met our view. in the middle of the sitters, still holding hands, was piled up _on the carpet_ an immense quantity of mould, which had been torn up apparently with the roots that accompanied it. there were laurestinus, and laurels, and holly, and several others, just as they had been pulled out of the earth and thrown down in the midst of us. mrs. guppy looked anything but pleased at the state of her carpet, and begged the spirits would bring something cleaner next time. they then told us to extinguish the lights again, and each sitter was to wish _mentally_ for something for himself. i wished for a yellow butterfly, knowing it was december, and as i thought of it, a little cardboard box was put into my hand. prince albert whispered to me, "have you got anything?" "yes," i said; "but not what i asked for. i expect they have given me a piece of jewellery." when the gas was re-lit, i opened the box, and there lay _two yellow butterflies_; dead, of course, but none the less extraordinary for that. i wore at that _séance_ a tight-fitting, high white muslin dress, over a tight petticoat body. the dress had no pocket, and i carried my handkerchief, a fine cambric one, in my hand. when the _séance_ was over, i found this handkerchief had disappeared, at which i was vexed, as it had been embroidered for me by my sister emily, then dead. i inquired of every sitter if they had seen it, even making them turn out their pockets in case they had taken it in mistake for their own, but it was not to be found, and i returned home, as i thought, without it. what was my surprise on removing my dress and petticoat bodice to find the handkerchief, neatly folded into a square of about four inches, _between_ my stays and the garment beneath them; placed, moreover, over the smallest part of my waist, where no fingers could have penetrated even had my dress been loose. my woman readers may be able better than the men to appreciate the difficulty of such a manoeuvre by mortal means; indeed it would have been quite impossible for myself or anybody else to place the handkerchief in such a position without removing the stays. and it was folded so neatly also, and placed so smoothly, that there was not a crumple in the cambric. chapter xvi. the mediumship of florence cook. in writing of my own mediumship, or the mediumship of any other person, i wish it particularly to be understood that i do not intend my narrative to be, by any means, an account of _all séances_ held under that control (for were i to include everything that i have seen and heard during my researches into spiritualism, this volume would swell to unconscionable dimensions), but only of certain events which i believe to be remarkable, and not enjoyed by every one in like measure. most people have read of the ordinary phenomena that take place at such meetings. my readers, therefore, will find no description here of marvels which--whether true or false--can be accounted for upon natural grounds. miss florence cook, now mrs. elgie corner, is one of the media who have been most talked of and written about. mr. alfred crookes took an immense interest in her, and published a long account of his investigation of spiritualism under her mediumship. mr. henry dunphy, of the _morning post_, wrote a series of papers for _london society_ (of which magazine i was then the editor), describing her powers, and the proof she gave of them. the first time i ever met florence cook was in his private house, when my little daughter appeared through her (_vide_ "the story of my spirit child"). on that occasion, as we were sitting at supper after the _séance_--a party of perhaps thirty people--the whole dinner-table, with everything upon it, rose bodily in the air to a level with our knees, and the dishes and glasses swayed about in a perilous manner, without, however, coming to any permanent harm. i was so much astonished at, and interested by, what i saw that evening, that i became most anxious to make the personal acquaintance of miss cook. she was the medium for the celebrated spirit, "katie king," of whom so much has been believed and disbelieved, and the _séances_ she gave at her parents' house in hackney for the purpose of seeing this figure alone used to be crowded by the cleverest and most scientific men of the day, sergeants cox and ballantyne, mr. s. c. hall, mr. alfred crookes, and many others, being on terms of the greatest intimacy with her. mr. william harrison, of the _spiritualist_ paper, was the one to procure me an introduction to the family and an entrance to the _séances_, for which i shall always feel grateful to him. for the benefit of the uninitiated, let me begin by telling _who_ "katie king" was supposed to be. her account of herself was that her name was "annie owens morgan;" that she was the daughter of sir henry morgan, a famous buccaneer who lived about the time of the commonwealth, and suffered death upon the high seas, being, in fact, a pirate; that she herself was about twelve years old when charles the first was beheaded; that she married and had two little children; that she committed more crimes than we should like to hear of, having murdered men with her own hands, but yet died quite young, at about two or three and twenty. to all questions concerning the reason of her reappearance on earth, she returned but one answer, that it was part of the work given her to do to convince the world of the truth of spiritualism. this was the information i received from her own lips. she had appeared to the cooks some years before i saw her, and had become so much one of the family as to walk about the house at all times without alarming the inmates. she often materialized and got into bed with her medium at night, much to florrie's annoyance; and after miss cook's marriage to captain corner, he told me himself that he used to feel at first as if he had married two women, and was not quite sure which was his wife of the two. the order of these _séances_ was always the same. miss cook retired to a back room, divided from the audience by a thin damask curtain, and presently the form of "katie king" would appear dressed in white, and walk out amongst the sitters in gaslight, and talk like one of themselves. florence cook (as i mentioned before) is a very small, slight brunette, with dark eyes and dark curly hair and a delicate aquiline nose. sometimes "katie" resembled her exactly; at others, she was totally different. sometimes, too, she measured the same height as her medium; at others, she was much taller. i have a large photograph of "katie" taken under limelight. in it she appears as the double of florrie cook, yet florrie was looking on whilst the picture was taken. i have sat for her several times with mr. crookes, and seen the tests applied which are mentioned in his book on the subject. i have seen florrie's dark curls _nailed down to the floor_, outside the curtain, in view of the audience, whilst "katie" walked about and talked with us. i have seen florrie placed on the scale of a weighing machine constructed by mr. crookes for the purpose, behind the curtain, whilst the balance remained in sight. i have seen under these circumstances that the medium weighed eight stone in a normal condition, and that as soon as the materialized form was fully developed, the balance ran up to four stone. moreover, i have seen both florrie and "katie" together on several occasions, so i can have no doubt on the subject that they were two separate creatures. still, i can quite understand how difficult it must have been for strangers to compare the strong likeness that existed between the medium and the spirit, without suspecting they were one and the same person. one evening "katie" walked out and perched herself upon my knee. i could feel she was a much plumper and heavier woman than miss cook, but she wonderfully resembled her in features, and i told her so. "katie" did not seem to consider it a compliment. she shrugged her shoulders, made a grimace, and said, "i know i am; i can't help it, but i was much prettier than that in earth life. you shall see, some day--you shall see." after she had finally retired that evening, she put her head out at the curtain again and said, with the strong lisp she always had, "i want mrs. ross-church." i rose and went to her, when she pulled me inside the curtain, when i found it was so thin that the gas shining through it from the outer room made everything in the inner quite visible. "katie" pulled my dress impatiently and said, "sit down on the ground," which i did. she then seated herself in my lap, saying, "and now, dear, we'll have a good 'confab,' like women do on earth." florence cook, meanwhile, was lying on a mattress on the ground close to us, wrapped in a deep trance. "katie" seemed very anxious i should ascertain beyond doubt that it was florrie. "touch her," she said, "take her hand, pull her curls. do you see that it is florrie lying there?" when i assured her i was quite satisfied there was no doubt of it, the spirit said, "then look round this way, and see what i was like in earth life." i turned to the form in my arms, and what was my amazement to see a woman fair as the day, with large grey or blue eyes, a white skin, and a profusion of golden red hair. "katie" enjoyed my surprise, and asked me, "ain't i prettier than florrie now?" she then rose and procured a pair of scissors from the table, and cut off a lock of her own hair and a lock of the medium's, and gave them to me. i have them safe to this day. one is almost black, soft and silky; the other a coarse golden red. after she had made me this present, "katie" said, "go back now, but don't tell the others to-night, or they'll all want to see me." on another very warm evening she sat on my lap amongst the audience, and i felt perspiration on her arm. this surprised me; and i asked her if, for the time being, she had the veins, nerves, and secretions of a human being; if blood ran through her body, and she had a heart and lungs. her answer was, "i have everything that florrie has." on that occasion also she called me after her into the back room, and, dropping her white garment, stood perfectly naked before me. "now," she said "you can see that i am a woman." which indeed she was, and a most beautifully-made woman too; and i examined her well, whilst miss cook lay beside us on the floor. instead of dismissing me this time, "katie" told me to sit down by the medium, and, having brought me a candle and matches, said i was to strike a light as soon as she gave three knocks, as florrie would be hysterical on awaking, and need my assistance. she then knelt down and kissed me, and i saw she was still naked. "where is your dress, katie?" i asked. "oh that's gone," she said; "i've sent it on before me." as she spoke thus, kneeling beside me, she rapped three times on the floor. i struck the match almost simultaneously with the signal; but as it flared up, "katie king" was gone like a flash of lightning, and miss cook, as she had predicted, awoke with a burst of frightened tears, and had to be soothed into tranquillity again. on another occasion "katie king" was asked at the beginning of the _séance_, by one of the company, to say _why_ she could not appear in the light of more than one gasburner. the question seemed to irritate her, and she replied, "i have told you all, several times before, that i can't stay under a searching light. i don't know _why_; but i can't, and if you want to prove the truth of what i say, turn up all the gas and see what will happen to me. only remember, it you do there will be no _séance_ to-night, because i shan't be able to come back again, and you must take your choice." upon this assertion it was put to the vote if the trial should be made or not, and all present (mr. s. c. hall was one of the party) decided we would prefer to witness the effect of a full glare of gas upon the materialized form than to have the usual sitting, as it would settle the vexed question of the necessity of gloom (if not darkness) for a materializing _séance_ for ever. we accordingly told "katie" of our choice, and she consented to stand the test, though she said afterwards we had put her to much pain. she took up her station against the drawing-room wall, with her arms extended as if she were crucified. then three gas-burners were turned on to their full extent in a room about sixteen feet square. the effect upon "katie king" was marvellous. she looked like herself for the space of a second only, then she began gradually to melt away. i can compare the dematerialization of her form to nothing but a wax doll melting before a hot fire. first, the features became blurred and indistinct; they seemed to run into each other. the eyes sunk in the sockets, the nose disappeared, the frontal bone fell in. next the limbs appeared to give way under her, and she sank lower and lower on the carpet like a crumbling edifice. at last there was _nothing but her head_ left above the ground--then a heap of white drapery only, which disappeared with a whisk, as if a hand had pulled it after her--and we were left staring by the light of three gas-burners at the spot on which "katie king" had stood. she was always attired in white drapery, but it varied in quality. sometimes it looked like long cloth; at others like mull muslin or jaconet; oftenest it was a species of thick cotton net. the sitters were much given to asking "katie" for a piece of her dress to keep as a souvenir of their visit; and when they received it, would seal it up carefully in an envelope and convey it home; and were much surprised on examining their treasure to find it had totally disappeared. "katie" used to say that nothing material about her could be made to last without taking away some of the medium's vitality, and weakening her in consequence. one evening, when she was cutting off pieces of her dress rather lavishly, i remarked that it would require a great deal of mending. she answered, "i'll show you how we mend dresses in the spirit world." she then doubled up the front breadth of her garment a dozen times, and cut two or three round holes in it. i am sure when she let it fall again there must have been thirty or forty holes, and "katie" said, "isn't that a nice cullender?" she then commenced, whilst we stood close to her, to shake her skirt gently about, and in a minute it was as perfect as before, without a hole to be seen. when we expressed our astonishment, she told me to take the scissors and cut off her hair. she had a profusion of ringlets falling to her waist that night. i obeyed religiously, hacking the hair wherever i could, whilst she kept on saying, "cut more! cut more! not for yourself, you know, because you can't take it away." so i cut off curl after curl, and as fast as they fell to the ground, _the hair grew again upon her head_. when i had finished, "katie" asked me to examine her hair, to see if i could detect any place where i had used the scissors, and i did so without any effect. neither was the severed hair to be found. it had vanished out of sight. "katie" was photographed many times, by limelight, by mr. alfred crookes, but her portraits are all too much like her medium to be of any value in establishing her claim to a separate identity. she had always stated she should not appear on this earth after the month of may, ; and accordingly, on the st, she assembled her friends to say "good-bye" to them, and i was one of the number. "katie" had asked miss cook to provide her with a large basket of flowers and ribbons, and she sat on the floor and made up a bouquet for each of her friends to keep in remembrance of her. mine, which consists of lilies of the valley and pink geranium, looks almost as fresh to-day, nearly seventeen years after, as it did when she gave it to me. it was accompanied by the following words, which "katie" wrote on a sheet of paper in my presence:-- "from annie owen de morgan (_alias_ 'katie') to her friend florence marryat ross-church. with love. _pensez à moi._ "_may st, ._" the farewell scene was as pathetic as if we had been parting with a dear companion by death. "katie" herself did not seem to know how to go. she returned again and again to have a last look, especially at mr. alfred crookes, who was as attached to her as she was to him. her prediction has been fulfilled, and from that day, florence cook never saw her again nor heard anything about her. her place was shortly filled by another influence, who called herself "marie," and who danced and sung in a truly professional style, and certainly as miss cook never either danced or sung. i should not have mentioned the appearance of this spirit, whom i only saw once or twice, excepting for the following reason. on one occasion miss cook (then mrs. corner) was giving a public _séance_ at the rooms of the national british association of spiritualists, at which a certain sir george sitwell, a very young man, was present, and at which he declared that the medium cheated, and that the spirit "marie" was herself, dressed up to deceive the audience. letters appeared in the newspapers about it, and the whole press came down upon spiritualists, and declared them all to be either knaves or fools. these notices were published on the morning of a day on which miss cook was engaged to give another public _séance_, at which i was present. she was naturally very much cut up about them. her reputation was at stake; her honor had been called into question, and being a proud girl, she resented it bitterly. her present audience was chiefly composed of friends; but, before commencing, she put it to us whether, whilst under such a stigma, she had better not sit at all. we, who had all tested her and believed in her, were unanimous in repudiating the vile charges brought against her, and in begging the _séance_ should proceed. florrie refused, however, to sit unless some one remained in the cabinet with her, and she chose me for the purpose. i was therefore tied to her securely with a stout rope, and we remained thus fastened together for the whole of the evening. under which conditions "marie" appeared, and sung and danced outside the cabinet, just as she had done to sir george sitwell whilst her medium remained tied to me. so much for men who decide a matter before they have sifted it to the bottom. mrs. elgie corner has long since given up mediumship either private or public, and lives deep down in the heart of wales, where the babble and scandal of the city affect her no longer. but she told me, only last year, that she would not pass through the suffering she had endured on account of spiritualism again for all the good this world could give her. chapter xvii. the mediumship of katie cook. in the matter of producing physical phenomena the cooks are a most remarkable family, all three daughters being powerful media, and that without any solicitation on their part. the second one, katie, is by no means the least powerful of the three, although she has sat more privately than her sister florence, and not had the same scientific tests (i believe) applied to her. the first time i had an opportunity of testing katie's mediumship was at the private rooms of signor rondi, in a circle of nine or ten friends. the apartment was small and sparsely furnished, being an artist's studio. the gas was kept burning, and before the sitting commenced the door was locked and strips of paper pasted over the opening inside. the cabinet was formed of a window curtain nailed across one corner of the room, behind which a chair was placed for the medium, who is a remarkably small and slight girl--much slighter than her sister florence--with a thin face and delicate features. she was dressed, on this occasion, in a tight-fitting black gown and hessian boots that buttoned half-way to her knee, and which, she informed me, she always wore when sitting (just as miss showers did), because they had each eighteen buttons, which took a long time to fasten and unfasten. the party sat in a semicircle, close outside the curtain, and the light was lowered, but not extinguished. there was no darkness, and no holding of hands. i mention these facts to show how very simple the preparations were. in a few minutes the curtain was lifted, and a form, clothed in white, who called herself "lily," was presented to our view. she answered several questions relative to herself and the medium; and perceiving some doubt on the part of some of the sitters, she seated herself on my knee, i being nearest the curtain, and asked me to feel her body, and tell the others how differently she was made from the medium. i had already realized that she was much heavier than katie cook, as she felt like a heavy girl of nine or ten stone. i then passed my hand up and down her figure. she had full breasts and plump arms and legs, and could not have been mistaken by the most casual observers for miss cook. whilst she sat on my knee, however, she desired my husband and signor rondi to go inside the curtain and feel that the medium was seated in her chair. when they did so, they found katie was only half entranced. she thrust her feet out to view, and said, "i am not 'lily;' feel my boots." my husband had, at the same moment, one hand on miss cook's knee, and the other stretched out to feel the figure seated on my lap. there remained no doubt in _his_ mind of there being two bodies there at the same time. presently "lily" passed her hand over my dress, and remarked how nice and warm it was, and how she wished she had one on too. i asked her, "are you cold?" and she said, "wouldn't you be cold if you had nothing but this white thing on?" half-jestingly, i took my fur cloak, which was on a sofa close by, and put it round her shoulders, and told her to wear it. "lily" seemed delighted. she exclaimed, "oh, how warm it is! may i take it away with me?" i said, "yes, if you will bring it back before i go home. i have nothing else to wear, remember." she promised she would, and left my side. in another moment she called out, "turn up the gas!" we did so. "lily" was gone, and so was my large fur cloak! we searched the little room round for it. it had entirely disappeared. there was a locked cupboard in which signor rondi kept drawing materials. i insisted on its being opened, although he declared it had not been unlocked for weeks, and we found it full of dust and drawing blocks, but nothing else, so the light was again lowered, and the _séance_ resumed. in a short time the heavy cloak was flung, apparently from the ceiling, evidently from somewhere higher than my head, and fell right over it. i laid it again on the sofa, and thought no more about it until i returned home. i then found, to my astonishment, and considerably to my annoyance, that the fur of my cloak (which was a new one) was all coming out. my dress was covered with it, and from that day i was never able to wear the cloak again. "lily" said she had _de_-materialized it, to take it away. of the truth of that assertion i had no proof, but i am quite sure that she did not put it together again when she brought it back. an army of moths encamped in it could not have damaged it more, and i can vouch that until that evening the fur had been as perfect as when i purchased it. i think my next sitting with katie cook was at a _séance_ held in museum street, and on the invitation of mr. chas. blackburn, who is one of the most earnest friends of spiritualism, and has expended a large amount of money in its research. the only other guests were my husband, and general and mrs. maclean. we sat round a small uncovered table with the gas burning and _without a cabinet_, miss katie cook had a seat between general maclean and myself, and we made sure of her proximity to us during the whole _séance_. in fact, i never let go of her hand, and even when she wished to use her pocket-handkerchief, she had to do it with my hand clinging to her own. neither did she go into a trance. we spoke to her occasionally during the sitting, and she answered us, though in a very subdued voice, as she complained of being sick and faint. in about twenty minutes, during which the usual manifestations occurred, the materialized form of "lily" appeared _in the middle of the table_, and spoke to us and kissed us all in turn. her face was very small, and she was _only formed to the waist_, but her flesh was quite firm and warm. whilst "lily" occupied the table in the full sight of all the sitters, and i had my hand upon miss cook's figure (for i kept passing my hand up and down from her face to her knees, to make sure it was not only a hand i held), some one grasped my chair from behind and shook it, and when i turned my head and spoke, in a moment one arm was round my neck and one round the neck of my husband, who sat next to me, whilst the voice of my daughter "florence" spoke to us both, and her long hair and her soft white dress swept over our faces and hands. her hair was so abundant and long, that she shook it out over my lap, that i might feel its length and texture. i asked "florence" for a piece of her hair and dress, and scissors not being forthcoming, "lily" materialized more fully, and walked round from the other side of the table and cut off a piece of "florence's" dress herself with my husband's penknife, but said they could not give me the hair that time. the two spirits remained with us for, perhaps, half an hour or more, whilst general maclean and i continued to hold miss cook a prisoner. the power then failing, they disappeared, but every one present was ready to take his oath that two presences had been with us that never entered at the door. the room was small and unfurnished, the gas was burning, the medium sat for the whole time in our sight. mrs. maclean and i were the only other women present, yet two girls bent over and kissed us, spoke to us, and placed their bare arms on our necks at one and the same time. there was again also a marked difference between the medium and the materializations. i have already described her appearance. both of these spirits had plump faces and figures, my daughter "florence's" hands especially being large and firm, and her loose hair nearly down to her knees. i had the pleasure of holding another _séance_ with katie cook in the same rooms, when a new manifestation occurred. she is (as i have said) a very small woman, with very short arms. i am, on the contrary, a very large woman, with very long arms, yet the arm of the hand i held was elongated to such an extent that it reached the sitters on the other side of the table, where it would have been impossible for mine to follow it. i should think the limb must have been stretched to thrice its natural length, and that in the sight of everybody. i sat again with katie cook in her own house, where, if trickery is employed, she had every opportunity of tricking us, but the manifestations were much the same, and certainly not more marvellous than those she had exhibited in the houses of strangers. "lily" and "florence" both appeared at the same time, under circumstances that admitted of no possibility of fraud. my husband and i were accompanied on that occasion by our friends, captain and mrs. kendal, and the order of sitting round the table was as follows:--myself, katie, captain k., florence cook, my husband, mrs. cook, mrs. kendal. each member of the family, it will be observed, was held between two detectives, and their hands were not once set free. i must say also that the _séance_ was a free one, courteously accorded us on the invitation of mrs. cook; and if deception had been intended, we and our friends might just as well have been left to sit with katie alone, whilst the other members of the family superintended the manifestation of the "ghosts" outside. miss florence cook, indeed (mrs. corner), objected at first to sitting with us, on the score that her mediumship usually neutralized that of her sister, but her mother insisted on her joining the circle, lest any suspicion should be excited by her absence. the cooks, indeed, are, all of them, rather averse to sitting than not, and cordially agree in disliking the powers that have been thrust upon them against their own will. these influences take possession of them, unfitting them for more practical work, and they must live. this is, i believe, the sole reason that they have never tried to make money by the exercise of their mediumship. but i, for one, fully believe them when they tell me that they consider the fact of their being media as the greatest misfortune that has ever happened to them. on the occasion of this last _séance_, cherries and rosebuds were showered in profusion on the table during the evening. these may easily be believed to have been secreted in the room before the commencement of the sitting, and produced at the proper opportunity, although the hands of everybody interested in their production were fast held by strangers. but it is less easy to believe that a lady of limited income, like mrs. cook, should go to such an expense for an unpaid _séance_, for the purpose of making converts of people who were strangers to her. mediumship pays very badly as it is. i am afraid it would pay still worse if the poor media had to purchase the means for producing the phenomena, especially when, in a town like london, they run (as in this instance) to hothouse fruit and flowers. one more example of katie cook's powers and i have done. we were assembled one evening by the invitation of mr. charles blackburn at his house, elgin crescent. we sat in a small breakfast room on the basement floor, so small, indeed, for the size of the party, that as we encircled a large round table, the sitters' backs touched the wall on either side, thus entirely preventing any one crossing the room whilst we were established there. the only piece of furniture of any consequence in the room, beside the chairs and table, was a trichord cabinet piano, belonging to mrs. cook (who was keeping house at the time for mr. blackburn), and which she much valued. katie cook sat amongst us as usual. in the middle of the _séance_ her control "lily," who was materialized, called out, "keep hands fast. don't let go, whatever you do!" and at the same time, without seeing anything (for we were sitting in complete darkness), we became conscious that something large and heavy was passing or being carried over our heads. one of the ladies of the party became nervous, and dropped her neighbor's hand with a cry of alarm, and, at the same moment, a weighty body fell with a fearful crash on the other side of the room. "lily" exclaimed, "some one has let go hands," and mrs. cook called out; "oh! it's my piano." lights were struck, when we found the cabinet piano had actually been carried from its original position right over our heads to the opposite side of the room, where it had fallen on the floor and been seriously damaged. the two carved legs were broken off, and the sounding board smashed in. any one who had heard poor mrs. cook's lamentations over the ruin of her favorite instrument, and the expense it would entail to get it restored, would have felt little doubt as to whether _she_ had been a willing victim to this unwelcome proof of her daughter's physical mediumship. chapter xviii. the mediumship of bessie fitzgerald. one evening i went to have a cup of tea with my friend miss schonberg at shepherd's bush, when she proposed that we should go and have a _séance_ with mrs. henry jencken (kate fox), who lived close by. i hailed the idea, as i had heard such great things of the medium in question, and never had an opportunity of testing them. consequently, i was proportionately disappointed when, on sending round to her house to ask if she could receive us that evening, we received a message to say that mr. jencken, her husband, had died that morning, and she could see no one. miss schonberg and i immediately cast about in our minds to see what we should do with our time, and she suggested we should call on mrs. fitzgerald. "who is mrs. fitzgerald?" i queried. "a wonderful medium," replied my friend, "whom i met at mrs. wilson's last week, and who gave me leave to call on her. let us go together." and accordingly we set forth for mrs. fitzgerald's residence in the goldhawk road. i only mention these circumstances to show how utterly unpremeditated was my first visit to her. we arrived at her house, and were ushered into a sitting-room, miss schonberg only sending up her name. in a few minutes the door opened, and a small, fair woman, dressed in black velvet, entered the room. miss schonberg saluted her, and was about to tender some explanation regarding _my_ presence there, when mrs. fitzgerald walked straight up to me and took my hand. her eyes seemed to dilate and contract, like the opening and shutting off of a light, in a manner which i have often seen since, and she uttered rapidly, "you have been married once; you have been married twice; and you will be married a third time." i answered, "if you know anything, mrs. fitzgerald, you must know that i am very much attached to my husband, and that your information can give me no pleasure to hear." "no!" she said, "no! i suppose not, but you cannot alter fate." she then proceeded to speak of things in my past life which had had the greatest influence over the whole of it, occurrences of so private and important a nature that it becomes impossible to write them down here, and for that very reason doubly convincing to the person whom they concern. presently mrs. fitzgerald wandered to her piano, and commenced to play the air of the ballad so firmly connected in my mind with john powles, "thou art gone from my gaze," whilst she turned and nodded at me saying, "_he's_ here!" in fact, after a couple of hours' conversation with her, i felt that this stranger in the black velvet dress had turned out every secret of my life, and laid it naked and bare before me. i was wonderfully attracted to her. her personality pleased me; her lonely life, living with her two babies in the goldhawk road, made me anxious to give her society and pleasure, and her wonderful gifts of clairvoyance and trance mediumship, all combined to make me desire her friendship, and i gave her a cordial invitation to my house in the regent's park, where for some years she was a constant visitor, and always sure of a hearty welcome. it was due to her kindness that i first had the opportunity to study trance mediumship at my leisure, and in a short time we became so familiar with her most constant control, "dewdrop," a red indian girl, and so accustomed to speak through mrs. fitzgerald with our own friends gone before, that we welcomed her advent to our house as the signal for holding a spiritual party. for the sake of the uninitiated and curious, i think i had better here describe what is meant by trance mediumship. a person thus gifted has the power of giving him or herself up to the control of the influences in command, who send him or her off to sleep, a sleep so deep and so like death that the spirit is actually parted _pro tem_ from the body, which other spirits, sometimes living, but far oftener dead, enter and use as if it were their own. i have mentioned in my chapter on "embodied spirits" how my living friend in india conversed with me through bessie fitzgerald in this way, also how "florence" spoke to me through the unconscious lips of mabel keningale cook. of course, i am aware that it would be so easy for a medium simply to close her eyes, and, professing to be entranced, talk a lot of commonplaces, which open-mouthed fools might accept as a new gospel, that it becomes imperative to test this class of media strictly by _what they utter_, and to place no faith in them until you are convinced that the matters they speak of cannot possibly have been known to any one except the friend whose mouthpiece they profess to be. all this i fully proved for myself from repeated trials and researches; but the unfortunate part of it is, that the more forcible and convincing the private proof, the more difficult it is to place it before the public. i must content myself, therefore, with saying that some of my dead friends (so called) came back to me so frequently through bessie fitzgerald, and familiarized themselves so completely with my present life, that i forgot sometimes that they had left this world, and flew to them (or rather to bessie) to seek their advice or ask their sympathy as naturally as if she were their earthly form. of these my daughter "florence" was necessarily the most often with me, and she and "dewdrop" generally divided the time which mrs. fitzgerald spent with us between them. i never saw a control so completely identified with its medium as "dewdrop" was with bessie. it was difficult at times to know which was which, and one could never be certain until she spoke whether the spirit or the medium had entered the house. when she _did_ speak, however, there was no mistaking them. their characters were so different. bessie fitzgerald, a quiet, soft spoken little woman, devoted to her children, and generally unobtrusive; "dewdrop," a sioux indian girl, wary and deep as her tribe and cute and saucy as a yankee, with an amount of devilry in her that must at times have proved very inconvenient. she used to play mrs. fitzgerald tricks in those days that might have brought her into serious trouble, such as controlling her whilst travelling in an omnibus, and talking her yankee indian to the passengers until she had made their hair stand on end, with the suspicion that they had a lunatic for a companion. one evening we had a large and rather "swell" evening party, chiefly composed of ladies and gentlemen of the theatrical profession, and entirely of non-spiritualists, excepting ourselves. mrs. fitzgerald had been invited to this party, and declined, because it was out of her line. we were therefore rather astonished, when all the guests were assembled, to hear her name announced and see her enter the room in a morning dress. directly i cast eyes upon her, however, i saw that it was not herself, but "dewdrop." the stride with which she walked, the waggish way she rolled from side to side, the devilry in her eye, all betokened the indian control. to make matters worse, she went straight up to colonel lean, and, throwing herself on the ground at his feet, affectionately laid her head upon his knee, and said, "i'se come to the party." imagine the astonishment of our guests! i was obliged at once, in defence of my friend, to explain to them how matters stood; and though they looked rather incredulous, they were immensely interested, and "dewdrop's" visit proved to be _the_ event of the evening. she talked to each one separately, telling them home truths, and prophesying their future in a way that made their cheeks go pale with fright, or red with conscious shame, and there was quite a contest between the men as to who should take "dewdrop" down to the supper table. when there, she made herself particularly lively, making personal remarks aloud that were, in some instances, rather trying to listen to, and which bessie fitzgerald would have cut out her tongue sooner than utter. she ate, too, of dishes which would have made bessie ill for a week. this was another strange peculiarity of "dewdrop's" control. she not only ousted the spirit; she regulated the internal machinery of her medium's body. bessie in her normal condition was a very delicate woman with a weak heart and lungs, and obliged to be most careful in her diet. she ate like a sparrow, and of the simplest things. "dewdrop," on the other hand, liked indigestible food, and devoured it freely; yet bessie has told me that she never felt any inconvenience from the food amalgamated with her system whilst under "dewdrop's" control. one day when mrs. fitzgerald was dining with us, we had some apples at dessert, which she would have liked to partake of, but was too much afraid of the after consequences. "i _dare_ not," she said; "if i were to eat a raw apple, i should have indigestion for a week." she took some preserved ginger instead; and we were proceeding with our dessert, when i saw her hand steal out and grasp an apple. i looked in her face. "dewdrop" had taken her place. "dewdrop," i said, authoritatively, "you must not eat that. you will hurt bessie. put it down directly." "i shan't," replied "dewdrop," drawing the dish towards her; "i like apples. i'm always wanting 'medy' to eat them, and she won't, so she must go away till i've had as many as i want." and in effect she ate three or four of them, and bessie would never have been cognizant of the fact unless i had informed her. on the occasion of the party to which she came uninvited, "dewdrop" remained with us to the very last, and went home in a cab, and landed mrs. fitzgerald at her house without her being aware that she had ever left it. at that time we were constantly at each other's houses, and many an evening have i spent alone with bessie in the goldhawk road, her servant out marketing and her little children asleep in the room overhead. her baby was then a great fat fellow of about fifteen months old, who was given to waking and crying for his mother. if "dewdrop" were present, she was always very impatient with these interruptions. "bother dat george," she would say; "i must go up and quiet him." then she would disappear for a few minutes, while bessie woke and talked to me, and then, in the twinkling of an eye, "dewdrop" would be back again. one day, apparently, "george" would not be comforted, for on "dewdrop's" return she said to me, "it's no good; i've had to bring him down. he's on the mat outside the door;" and there, sure enough, we found the poor baby wailing in his nightshirt. not being able to walk, how he had been spirited from the top storey to the bottom i leave my readers to determine. bessie's little girl mabel promised to be as wonderful a medium as her mother. she would come in from the garden flushed from her play with the "spirit-children," of whom she talked as familiarly as of her little neighbors next door. i have watched her playing at ball with an invisible child, and have seen the ball thrown, arrested half-way in the air, and then tossed back again just as if a living child had been mab's opponent. i had lost several infants from premature birth during my second marriage, and the eldest of these, a girl, appeared to be a constant companion of mabel's. she was always talking of what "mrs. lean's girl" (as she called her) had done and said; and one day she had a violent fit of weeping because her mother would not promise to buy her a frock like the one "mrs. lean's girl" wore. _apropos_ of these still-born children, i had a curious experience with mrs. fitzgerald. i had had no idea until then that children so born possessed any souls, or lived again, but "florence" undeceived me when she told me she had charge of her little brothers and sisters. she even professed to know the names by which they were known in the spirit world. when a still-born baby is launched upon the other side, she said it is delivered over to the nearest relative of its parent, to be called by what name he may choose. thus my first girl was christened by colonel lean's mother "gertrude," after a bosom friend of hers, and my second my father named "joan," as he said it was his favorite female name. upon subsequent inquiry, we found that mrs. lean _had_ a friend called "gertrude," and that "joan" was distinctly captain marryat's _beau ideal_ of a woman's name. however, that signified but little. i became very curious to see or speak with these unknown babies of mine, and used to worry "florence" to bring them to me. she would expostulate with me after this fashion: "dear mother, be reasonable. remember what babies they are, and that this world is quite strange to them. when your earthly children were small you never allowed them to be brought down before strangers, for fear they should cry. 'gertie' and 'yonnie' would behave just the same if i brought them back to you now." however, i went on teasing her till she made the attempt, and "gertie" returned through mrs. fitzgerald. it was a long time before we could coax her to remain with us, and when she overcame her first shyness, it was like talking to a little savage. "gertie" didn't know the meaning of anything, or the names of anything. her incessant questions of "what's a father?" "what a mother?" "what's a dog?" were very difficult to answer; but she would chatter about the spirit-world, and what she did there, as glibly as possible. she told us that she knew her brother francis (the lad who was drowned at sea) very well, and she "ran races, and francis 'chivied' her; and when he caught her, he held her under the fountain, and the spray wetted her frock, and made it look like silver." the word "_chivied_" sounding to me very much of a mundane character, i asked "gertie" where she learned it; and she said, "francis says 'chivy,' so _i_ may," and it was indeed a common expression with him. "gertie" took, after a while, such a keen interest in my ornaments and china, rather to their endangerment, that i bought a doll to see if she would play with it. at first she was vastly delighted with the "little spirit," as she called it, and nursed it just as a mortal child would have done. but when she began to question me as to the reason the doll did not look at her, or answer her, or move about, and i said it was because it was not alive, she was dreadfully disappointed. "_not alive!_" she echoed; "didn't god make it?" and when i replied in the negative, she threw it to the other end of the room, and would never look at it again. "gertie" was about five years old at this period, and seemed to have a great idea of her own importance. she always announced herself as "the princess gertie," and was very dignified in her behavior. one day, when a lady friend was present when "gertie" came and asked her to kiss her, she extended her hand instead of her face, saying, "you may kiss my hand." "yonnie" (as "joan" called herself) was but eighteen months old, and used to manifest herself, _roaring_ like a child forcibly dragged before strangers, and the only word we could ever extract from her was "sugar-plums." accordingly, i invested in some for her benefit, with which she filled her mouth so full as nearly to choke the medium, and "florence" rebuked me seriously for my carelessness, and threatened never to bring "yonnie" down to this earth again. there had been three other children--boys--whom i was equally anxious to see again, but, for some inexplicable reason, "florence" said it was impossible that they could manifest. the little girls, however, came until we were quite familiar with them. i am aware that all this must sound very childish, but had it not borne a remarkable context, i should not have related it. all the wonder of it will be found later on. mrs. fitzgerald suffered very much at this time from insomnia, which she always declared was benefitted after a visit to me. i proposed one night, therefore, when she had stayed with us later than usual, that she should remain and share my bed, and return home in the morning. she consented, and at the usual hour we retired to rest together, i taking care to lock the bedroom door and keep the gas burning; indeed, bessie was so nervous of what she might see that she would not have remained in the dark for any consideration. the bed we occupied was what is called a half tester, with a canopy and curtains on either side. as soon as ever bessie got into it, she burrowed under the clothes like a dormouse, and went fast asleep. i was too curious to see what might happen to follow her example, so my head remained on the pillow, and my eyes wide open, and turning in every direction. presently i saw the curtains on the opposite side of the bed gently shaken, next a white hand and arm appeared round them, and was passed up and down the ridge that represented bessie fitzgerald's body; finally, after several times stepping forward and retreating again, a female figure emerged and walked to the foot of the bedstead and stood there regarding me. she was, to all appearance, as solidly formed as any human creature could be, and she was as perfectly distinct as though seen by daylight. her head and bust reminded me at once of the celebrated "clytie," they were so classically and beautifully formed. her hair and skin were fair, her eyes luminously liquid and gentle, her whole attitude one of modest dignity. she was clothed in some creamy white material, thick and soft, and intermixed with dull gold. she wore no ornaments, but in her right hand she carried a long branch of palm, or olive, or myrtle, something tall and tapering, and of dark green. she scarcely could be said to smile at me, but there was an indescribable appearance of peace and tranquillity about her. when i described this apparition to bessie in the morning, she recognized it at once as that of her control, "goodness," whom she had seen clairvoyantly, but she affirmed that i was the only person who had ever given her a correct description of this influence, which was the best and purest about her. after "goodness" had remained in the same position for a few minutes, she walked back again behind the curtain, which served as a cabinet, and "florence" came out and had a whispered conversation with me. next a dark face, but only a face, said to be that of "dewdrop," peeped out four or five times, and disappeared again; then a voice said, "no more! good-night," and i turned round to where bessie lay sleeping beside me, and went to sleep myself. after that, she often came, when suffering worse than usual from insomnia, to pass the night with me, as she said my magnetism caused her to sleep, and similar manifestations always occurred when we were alone and together. mrs. fitzgerald's mediumship was by no means used, however, for the sole purpose of gratifying curiosity or foretelling the future. she was a wonderful medical diagnoser, and sat for a long time in the service of a well-known medical man. she would be ensconced in a corner of his waiting-room and tell him the exact disease of each patient that entered. she told me she could see the inside of everybody as perfectly as though they were made of glass. this gift, however, induced her to take on a reflection (as it were) of the disease she diagnosed, and after a while her failing strength compelled her to give it up. her control "dewdrop" was what she called herself, "a metal spirit," _i.e._, her advice was very trustworthy with regard to all speculations and monetary transactions. many stockbrokers and city men used regularly to consult bessie before they engaged in any speculation, and she received many valuable presents in return for her assistance in "making a pile." one gentleman, indeed, settled a large sum of money when he died on her little son in gratitude for the fortune "dewdrop" had helped him to accumulate. persons who sneer at spiritualism and declare it to be useless, little know how much advantage is taken of spiritual forethought and prevision by those who believe in it. i have never been sorry but when i have neglected to follow the advice of a medium whom i had proved to be trustworthy. in the autumn of i introduced my own entertainment of "love letters" to the provincial british public, and it had an immediate and undeniable success. my engagements poured in rapidly, and i had already booked dates for the whole spring of , when mr. edgar bruce offered me an engagement at the prince of wales' (then the prince's) theatre, about to be opened in piccadilly. i had been anxiously waiting to obtain an engagement on the london boards, and was eager to accept it; still, i did not know if i would be wise in relinquishing my provincial engagements. i wrote to bessie to ask "dewdrop" what i should do; the answer was, "don't accept, only a flash in the pan." thereupon i sent to mr. bruce to ask how long the engagement was likely to last, and his answer was that he expected "the palace of truth" to run a year at least, and at any rate i was to consider myself one of a "stock company." thereupon i cancelled all my entertainment engagements, returned to london, appeared at the prince's theatre for just _eleven_ _weeks_, and got into four law suits with my disappointed patrons for my trouble. it is one of the commonest remarks made by stupid people, "if the spirits know anything, let them tell me the name of the winner of the derby, and then i will believe them," etc. i was speaking of this once to "dewdrop," and she said, "we _could_ tell if we choose, but we are not allowed to do so. if spiritualism was generally used for such things, all the world would rush to it in order to cheat one another. but if you will promise me not to open it until after the derby is run, i will give you the name of the winner now in a sealed envelope, to prove that what i say is the truth." we gave her the requisite materials, and she made a few pencil marks on a piece of paper, and sealed it up. it was the year that "shotover" won the derby. the day after the race, we opened the envelope and found the drawing of a man with a gun in his hand, a hedge, and a bird flying away on the other side; very sketchy, but perfectly intelligible to one who could read between the lines. i was at the theatre one night with bessie in a box, when i found out that "dewdrop" had taken her place. "dewdrop" was very fond of going to the play, and her remarks were so funny and so naïve as to keep one constantly amused. presently, between the acts, she said to me, "do you see that man in the front row of the stalls with a bald head, sitting next to the old lady with a fat neck?" i replied i did. "now you watch," said "dewdrop;" "i'm going down there to have some fun. first i'll tickle the old man's head, and then i'll scratch the old woman's neck. now, you and 'medie' watch." the next moment bessie spoke to me in her own voice, and i told her what "dewdrop" proposed to do. "oh, poor things!" she said, compassionately, "how she will torment them!" to watch what followed was a perfect farce. first, the old man put his hand up to his bald head, and then he took out his handkerchief and flicked it, then he rubbed it, and finally _scrubbed_ it to alleviate the increasing irritation. then the old lady began the same business with her neck, and finding it of no avail, glared at the old man as if she thought _he_ had done it; in fact, they were both in such evident torture that there was no doubt "dewdrop" had kept her promise. when she returned to me she said, "there! didn't you see me walking along the front row of stalls, in my moccasins and beads and feathers, and all my war-paint on, tickling the old fellow's head?" "i didn't _see_ you, 'dewdrop,'" i answered, "but i'm sure you were there." "ah! but the old fellow _felt_ me, and so did the old girl," she replied. bessie fitzgerald is now mrs. russell davies, and carries on her _séances_ in upper norwood. no one who attends them can fail to feel interested in the various phenomena he will meet with there. chapter xix. the mediumship of lottie fowler. as i was introduced to lottie fowler many years before i met bessie fitzgerald, i suppose the account of her mediumship should have come first; but i am writing this veracious narrative on no fixed or artificial plan, but just as it occurs to me, though not from memory, because notes were taken of every particular at the time of occurrence. in i was largely employed on the london press, and constantly sent to report on anything novel or curious, and likely to afford matter for an interesting article. it was for such a purpose that i received an order from one of the principal newspapers in town to go and have a complimentary _séance_ with an american clairvoyant newly arrived in england, miss lottie fowler. until i received my directions i had never heard the medium's name, and i knew very little of clairvoyance. she was lodging in conduit street, and i reached her house one morning as early as ten o'clock, and sent in a card with the name of the paper only written on it. i was readily admitted. miss fowler was naturally anxious to be noticed by the press and introduced to london society. i found her a stylish-looking, well-dressed woman of about thirty, with a pleasant, intelligent face. those of my readers who have only met her since sickness and misfortune made inroads on her appearance may smile at my description, but i repeat that seventeen years ago lottie fowler was prosperous and energetic-looking. she received me very cordially, and asked me into a little back parlor, of which, as it was summer weather, both the windows and doors were left open. here, in the sunshine, she sat down and took my hand in hers, and began chatting of what she wished and hoped to do in london. suddenly her eyes closed and her head fell back. she breathed hard for a few minutes, and then sat up, still with her eyes closed, and began to talk in a high key, and in broken english. this was her well-known control, "annie," without doubt one of the best clairvoyants living. she began by explaining to me that she had been a german girl in earth life, and couldn't speak english properly, but i should understand her better when i was more familiar with her. she then commenced with my birth by the sea, described my father's personality and occupation, spoke of my mother, my brothers and sisters, my illnesses, my marriage, and my domestic life. then she said, "wait! now i'll go to your house, and tell you what i see there." she then repeated the names of all my children, giving a sketch of the character of each one, down to the "baby with the flower name," as she called my little daisy. after she had really exhausted the subject of my past and present, she said, "you'll say i've read all this out of your mind, so now i'll tell you what i see in the future. you'll be married a second time." now, at this period i was editing a fashionable magazine, and drew a large number of literary men around me. i kept open house on tuesday evenings, and had innumerable friends, and i _may_ (i don't say i _had_), but i may have sometimes speculated what my fate might be in the event of my becoming free. the _séance_ i speak of took place on a wednesday morning; and when "annie" told me i should be married a second time, my thoughts involuntarily took to themselves wings, i suppose, for she immediately followed up her assertion by saying, "no! not to the man who broke the tumbler at your house last night. you will marry another soldier." "no, thank-you," i exclaimed; "no more army men for me. i've had enough of soldiers to last me a lifetime." "annie" looked very grave. "you _will_ marry another soldier," she reiterated; "i can see him now, walking up a terrace. he is very tall and big, and has brown hair cut quite short, but so soft and shiny. at the back of his head he looks as sleek as a mole. he has a broad face, a pleasant, smiling face, and when he laughs he shows very white teeth. i see him knocking at your door. he says, 'is mrs. ross-church at home?' 'yes, sir.' then he goes into a room full of books. 'florence, my wife is dead. will you be my wife?' and you say 'yes.'" "annie" spoke so naturally, and i was so astonished at her knowledge of my affairs, that it never struck me till i returned home that she had called me by my name, which had been kept carefully from her. i asked her, "when will my husband die?" "i don't see his death anywhere," she answered. "but how can i marry again unless he dies?" i said. "i don't know, but i can't tell you what i don't see. i see a house all in confusion, papers are thrown about, and everything is topsy-turvy, and two people are going different ways; and, oh, there is so much trouble and so many tears! but i don't see any death anywhere." i returned home, very much astonished at all miss fowler had said regarding my past and present, but very incredulous with respect to her prophecies for the future. yet, three years afterwards, when much of what she told me had come to pass, i was travelling from charing cross to fareham with mr. grossmith, to give our entertainment of "_entre nous_," when the train stopped as usual to water at chatham. on the platform stood colonel lean, in uniform, talking to some friends. i had never set eyes on him till that moment; but i said at once to mr. grossmith, "do you see that officer in the undress uniform? that is the man lottie fowler told me i should marry." her description had been so exact that i recognized him at once. of course, i got well laughed at, and was ready after a while to laugh at myself. two months afterwards, however, i was engaged to recite at the literary institute at chatham, where i had never set foot in my life before. colonel lean came to the recital, and introduced himself to me. he became a visitor at my house in london (which, by the by, had been changed for one in a _terrace_), and two years afterwards, in, june , we were married. i have so far overcome a natural scruple to make my private affairs public, in justice to lottie fowler. it is useless narrating anything to do with the supernatural (although i have been taught that this is a wrong term, and that nothing that exists is _above_ nature, but only a continuation of it), unless one is prepared to prove that it was true. lottie fowler did not make a long stay in england on that occasion. she returned to america for some time, and i was mrs. lean before i met her again. the second visit was a remarkable one. i had been to another medium, who had made me very unhappy by some prophecies with regard to my husband's health; indeed, she had said he would not live a couple of years, and i was so excited about it that my friend miss schonberg advised our going then and there to see lottie fowler, who had just arrived in england, and was staying in vernon place, bloomsbury; and though it was late at night, we set off at once. the answer to our request to see miss fowler was that she was too tired to receive any more visitors that day. "do ask her to see me," i urged. "i won't detain her a moment; i only want to ask her one question." upon this, we were admitted, and found lottie nearly asleep. "miss fowler," i began, "you told me five years ago that i should be married a second time. well, i _am_ married, and now they tell me i shall loose my husband." and then i told her how ill he was, and what the doctors said, and what the medium said. "you told me the truth before," i continued; "tell it me now. will he die?" lottie took a locket containing his hair in her hand for a minute, and then replied confidently, "they know nothing about it. he will not die--that is not yet--not for a long while." "but _when_?" i said, despairingly. "leave that to god, child," she answered, "and be happy now." and in effect colonel lean recovered from his illness, and became strong and hearty again. but whence did miss fowler gain the confidence to assert that a man whom she had never seen, nor even heard of, should recover from a disease which the doctors pronounced to be mortal? from that time lottie and i became fast friends, and continue so to this day. it is a remarkable thing that she would never take a sixpence from me in payment for her services, though i have sat with her scores of times, nor would she accept a present, and that when she has been sorely in need of funds. she said she had been told she should never prosper if she touched my money. she has one of the most grateful and affectionate and generous natures possible, and has half-starved herself for the sake of others who lived upon her. i have seen her under sickness, and poverty, and trouble, and i think she is one of the kindest-hearted and best women living, and i am glad of even this slight opportunity to bear testimony to her disposition. at one time she had a large and fashionable _clientèle_ of sitters, who used to pay her handsomely for a _séance_, but of late years her clients have fallen off, and her fortunes have proportionately decreased. she has now returned to the southern states of america, and says she has seen the last of england. all i can say is, that i consider her a great personal loss as a referee in all business matters as well as a prophet for the future. she also, like bessie fitzgerald, is a great medical diagnoser. she was largely consulted by physicians about the court at the time of the prince of wales' dangerous illness, and predicted his recovery from the commencement. it was through her mediumship that the body of the late lord lindesay of balcarres, which was stolen from the family vault, was eventually recovered; and the present lord lindesay gave her a beautiful little watch, enamelled and set in diamonds, in commemoration of the event. she predicted the riot that took place in london some years ago, and the tay bridge disaster; but who is so silly as to believe the prophecies of media now-a-days? there has hardly been an event in my life, since i have known lottie fowler, that she has not prepared me for beforehand, but the majority of them are too insignificant to interest the reader. one, however, the saddest i have ever been called upon to encounter, was wonderfully foretold. in february, , lottie (or rather, "annie") said to me, "there is a great trouble in store for you, florris" (she always called me "florris"); "you are passing under black clouds, and there is a coffin hanging over you. it will leave your house." this made me very uneasy. no one lived in my house but my husband and myself. i asked, "is it my own coffin?" "no!" "is it my husband's?" "no; it is that of a much younger person." i questioned her very closely, but she would not tell me any more, and i tried to dismiss the idea from my mind. still it would constantly recur, for i knew, from experience, how true her predictions were. at last i felt as if i could bear the suspense no longer, and i went to her and said, "you _must_ tell me that the coffin you spoke of is not for one of my children, or the uncertainty will drive me mad." "annie" thought a minute, and then said slowly, "no; it is not for one of your children." "then i can bear anything else," i replied. the time went on, and in april an uncle of mine died. i rushed again to lottie fowler. "is _this_ the death you prophesied?" i asked her. "no," she replied; "the coffin must leave your house. but this death will be followed by another in the family," which it was within the week. the following february my next-door neighbors lost their only son. i had known the boy for years, and i was very sorry for them. as i was watching the funeral preparations from my bedroom window, i saw the coffin carried out of the hall door, which adjoined mine with only a railing between. knowing that many prophetical media _see_ the future in a series of pictures, it struck me that lottie must have seen this coffin leaving, and mistaken the house for mine. i went to her again. this proves how the prediction had weighed all this time upon my mind. "has not the death you spoke of taken place _now_?" i asked her. "has not the coffin left my house?" "no," she answered; "it will be a relative, one of the family. it is much nearer now than it was." i felt uncomfortable, but i would not allow it to make me unhappy. "annie" had said it was not one of my own children, and so long as they were spared i felt strong enough for anything. in the july following my eldest daughter came to me in much distress. she had heard of the death of a friend, one who had been associated with her in her professional life, and the news had shocked her greatly. she had always been opposed to spiritualism. she didn't see the good of it, and thought i believed in it a great deal more than was necessary. i had often asked her to accompany me to _séances_, or to see trance media, and she had refused. she used to say she had no one on the other side she cared to speak to. but when her young friend died, she begged me to take her to a medium to hear some news of him, and we went together to lottie fowler. "annie" did not wait for any prompting, but opened the ball at once. "you've come here to ask me how you can see your friend who has just passed over," she said. "well, he's all right. he's in this room now, and he says you will see him very soon." "to which medium shall i go?" said my daughter. "don't go to any medium. wait a little while, and you will see him with your own eyes." my daughter was a physical medium herself, though i had prevented her sitting for fear it should injure her health; and i believed, with her, that "annie" meant that her friend would manifest through her own power. she turned to me and said, "oh, mother, i shall be awfully frightened if he appears to me at night;" and "annie" answered, "no, you won't be frightened when you see him. you will be very pleased. your meeting will be a source of great pleasure on both sides." my daughter had just signed a lucrative engagement, and was about to start on a provincial tour. her next request was, "tell me what you see for me in the future." "annie" replied, "i cannot see it clearly. another day i may be able to tell you more, but to-day it is all dim. every time i try to see it a wall seems to rise behind your head and shut it out." then she turned to me and said, "florris, that coffin is very near you now. it hangs right over your head!" i answered carelessly, "i wish it would come and have done with it. it is eighteen months now, annie, since you uttered that dismal prophecy!" little did i really believe that it was to be so quickly and so terribly fulfilled. three weeks after that _séance_, my beloved child (who was staying with me) was carried out of my house in her coffin to kensal green. i was so stunned by the blow, that it was not for some time after that i remembered "annie's" prediction. when i asked her _why_ she had tortured me with the suspense of coming evil for eighteen months, she said she had been told to do so by my guardian spirits, or my brain would have been injured by the suddenness of the shock. when i asked why she had denied it would be one of my children, she still maintained that she had obeyed a higher order, because to tell the truth so long beforehand would have half-killed me as indeed it would. "annie" said she had no idea, even during that last interview, that the death she predicted was that of the girl before her. she saw her future was misty, and that the coffin was over my head, but she did not connect the two facts together. in like manner i have heard almost every event of my future through lottie fowler's lips, and she has never yet proved to be wrong, except in one instance of _time_. she predicted an event for a certain year and it did not take place till afterwards; and it has made "annie" so wary, that she steadfastly refuses now to give any dates. i always warn inquirers not to place faith in any given dates. the spirits have told me they have _no time_ in the spheres, but judge of it simply as the reflection of the future appears nearer, or further, from the sitter's face. thus, something that will happen years hence appears cloudy and far off, whilst the events of next week or next month seem bright and distinct, and quite near. this is a method of judging which can only be gained by practice, and must at all times be uncertain and misleading. i have often acted as amanuensis for lottie fowler, for letters are constantly arriving for her from every part of the world which can only be answered under trance, and she has asked me to take down the replies as "annie" dictated them. i have answered by this means the most searching questions from over the seas relating to health and money and lost articles whilst lottie was fast asleep and "annie" dictated the letters, and have received many answers thanking me for acting go-between, and saying how wonderfully correct and valuable the information "annie" had sent them had proved to be. of course, it would be impossible, in this paper, to tell of the constant intercourse i have had with lottie fowler during the last ten or twelve years, and the manner in which she has mapped out my future for me, preventing my cherishing false hopes that would never be realized, making bad bargains that would prove monetary losses, and believing in apparent friendship that was only a cloak for selfishness and treachery. i have learned many bitter lessons from her lips. i have also made a good deal of money through her means. she has told me what will happen to me between this time and the time of my death, and i feel prepared for the evil and content with the good. lottie fowler had very bad health for some time before she left england, and it had become quite necessary that she should go; but i think if the british public had known what a wonderful woman was in their midst, they would have made it better worth her while to stay amongst them. chapter xx. the mediumship of william fletcher. it may be remembered in the "story of john powles" that when, as a perfect stranger to mr. fletcher, i walked one evening into the steinway hall, i heard him describe the circumstances of my old friend's death in a very startling manner. it made such an impression on me that i became anxious to hear what more mr. fletcher might have to say to me in private, and for that purpose i wrote and made an appointment with him at his private residence in gordon square. i did not conceal my name, and i knew my name must be familiar to him; for although he had only just arrived from america, i am better known as an author in that country perhaps than in this. but i had no intention of gauging his powers by what he told me of my exterior life; and by what followed, his guide "winona" evidently guessed my ideas upon the subject. after the _séance_ i wrote thus concerning it to the _banner of light_, a new york spiritualistic paper:-- "i had seen many clairvoyants before, both in public and private, and had witnessed wonderful feats of skill on their part in naming and describing concealed objects, and reading print or writing when held far beyond their reach of sight; but i knew the trick of all that. if mr. fletcher is going to treat me to any mental legerdemain, i thought, as i took my way to gordon square, i shall have wasted both my time and trouble upon him; and, i confess, as i approached the house, that i felt doubtful whether i might not be deceived against my senses by the clever lecturer, whose eloquence had charmed me into desiring a more intimate acquaintance with him. even the private life of a professional person soon becomes public property in london; and had mr. fletcher wished to find out my faults and failings, he had but to apply to ----, say, my dearest friend, or the one upon whom i had bestowed most benefits, to learn the worst aspect of the worst side of my character. but the neat little page-boy answered my summons so promptly that i had no time to think of turning back again; and i was ushered through a carpeted hall, and up a staircase into a double drawing-room, strewn with evidence that my clairvoyant friend possessed not only artistic taste, but the means to indulge it. the back room into which i was shown was hung with paintings and fitted with a luxurious _causeuse_, covered with art needlework, and drawn against the open window, through which might be seen some fine old trees in the garden below, and mr. fletcher's dogs enjoying themselves beneath their shade. nothing could be further removed from one's ideas of a haunt of mystery or magic, or the abode of a man who was forced to descend to trickery for a livelihood. in a few minutes mr. fletcher entered the room and saluted me with the air of a gentleman. we did not proceed to business, however, until he had taken me round his rooms, and shown me his favorite pictures, including a portrait of sara bernhardt, etched by herself, in the character of mrs. clarkson in _l'etrangère_. after which we returned to the back drawing-room, and without darkening the windows or adopting any precautions, we took our seats upon the _causeuse_ facing each other, whilst mr. fletcher laid his left hand lightly upon mine. in the course of a minute i observed several convulsive shivers pass through his frame, his eyes closed, and his head sunk back upon the cushions, apparently in sleep. i sat perfectly still and silent with my hand in his. presently he reopened his eyes quite naturally, and sitting upright, began to speak to me in a very soft, thin, feminine voice. he (or rather his guide "winona") began by saying that she would not waste my time on facts that she might have gathered from the world, but would confine herself to speaking of my inner life. thereupon, with the most astonishing astuteness, she told me of my thoughts and feelings, reading them off like a book. she repeated to me words and actions that had been said and done in privacy hundred of miles away. she detailed the characters of my acquaintance, showing who were true and who were false, giving me their names and places of residence. she told me the motives i had had for certain actions, and what was more strange, revealed truths concerning myself which i had not recognized until they were presented to me through the medium of a perfect stranger. every question i put to her was accurately answered, and i was repeatedly invited to draw further revelations from her. the fact being that i was struck almost dumb by what i had heard, and rendered incapable of doing anything but marvel at the wonderful gift that enabled a man, not only to read each thought that passed through my brain, but to see, as in a mirror, scenes that were being enacted miles away with the actors concerned in them and the motives that animated them. "winona" read the future for me as well as the past, and the first distinct prophecy she uttered has already most unexpectedly come to pass. when i announced that i was satisfied, the clairvoyant laid his head back again upon the cushions, the same convulsive shudders passed through his frame, and in another minute he was smiling in my face, and hoping i had a good _séance_." this is part of the letter i wrote concerning mr. fletcher to the _banner of light_. but a description of words, however strongly put, can never carry the same weight as the words themselves. so anxious am i to make this statement as trustworthy as possible, however, that i will now go further, and give the exact words as "winona" spoke them to me on that occasion, and as i took them down from her lips. _some_ parts i _must_ omit, not for my own sake, but because of the treachery they justly ascribed to persons still living in this world. but enough will, i trust, remain to prove how intimately the spirit must have penetrated to my inner life. this is, then, the greater part of what "winona" said to me on the th of june, : "you are a child of destiny, who never was a child. your life is fuller of tragedies than any life i ever read yet. i will not tell you of the past _facts_, because they are known to the world, and i might have heard them from others. but i will speak of yourself. i have to leave the earth-world when i come in contact with you, and enter a planetary sphere in which you dwell (and ever must dwell) _alone_. it is as if you were in a room shut off from the rest of mankind. you are one of the world's magnets. you have nothing really in common with the rest. you draw people to you, and live upon their life; and when they have no more to give, nor you to demand, the liking fades on both sides. it must be so, because the spirit requires food the same as the body; and when the store is exhausted, the affection is starved out, and the persons pass out of your life. you have often wondered to yourself why an acquaintance who seemed necessary to you to-day you can live perfectly well without to-morrow. this is the reason. more than that, if you continue to cling to those whose spiritual system you have exhausted, they would poison you, instead of nourishing you. you may not like it, but those you value most you should oftenest part with. separation will not decrease your influence over them; it will increase it. constant intercourse may be fatal to your dearest affections. you draw so much on others, you _empty_ them, and they have nothing more to give you. you have often wondered, too, why, after you have lived in a place a little while, you become sad, weary, and ill--not physically ill, but mentally so--and you feel as if you _must_ leave it, and go to another place. when you settle in this fresh place, you think at first that it is the very place where you will be content to live and die; but after a little while the same weariness and faintness comes back again, and you think you cannot breathe till you leave it, as you did the other. this is not fancy. it is because your nature has exhausted all it can draw from its surroundings, and change becomes a necessity to life. you will never be able to live long in any place without change, and let me warn you never to settle yourself down anywhere with the idea of living there entirely. were you forced to do so, you would soon die. you would be starved to death spiritually. all people are not born under a fate, but you were, and you can do very little to change it. england is the country of your fate. you will never prosper in health, mind, or money in a foreign country. it is good to go abroad for change, but never try to live there. you are thinking of going abroad now, but you will not remain there nearly so long as you anticipate. something will arise to make you alter your plans--not a real trouble--but an uneasiness. the plan you think of will not answer." (this prediction was fulfilled to the letter.) "this year completes an era in your professional career--not of ill-luck, so much as of stagnation. your work has been rather duller of late years. the christmas of will bring you brighter fortune. some one who has appeared to drop you will come forward again, and take up your cause, and bring you in much money." (this also came to pass.) "you have not nearly reached the zenith of your success. it is yet to come. it is only beginning. you will have another child, certainly _one_, but i am not sure if it will live in this world. i do not see its earth-life, but i see you in that condition. * * * * * "your nervous system was for many years strung up to its highest tension--now it is relaxed, and your physical powers are at their lowest ebb. you could not bear a child in your present condition. you must become much lighter-hearted, more contented and at ease before that comes to pass. you must have ceased to wish for a child, or even to expect it. you have never had a heart really at ease yet. all your happiness has been feverish. * * * * * "i see your evil genius. she is out of your life at present, but she crossed your path last year, and caused you much heart-burning, and not without reason. it seems to me that some sudden shock or accident put an end to the acquaintance; but she will cross your path again, and cause you more misery, perhaps, than anything else has done. she is not young, but stout, and not handsome, as it seems to me. she is addicted to drinking. i see her rolling about now under the influence of liquor. she has been married more than once. i see the name ---- ---- written in the air. she would go any lengths to take that you value from you, even to compassing your death. she is madly in love with what is yours. she would do anything to compass her ends--not only immoral things, but filth--filth. i have no hesitation in saying this. whenever she crosses your path, in public or private, flee from her as from a pestilence." (this information was correct in every detail. the name was given at full length. i repeat it as a specimen of the succinctness of intelligence given through trance mediumship.) " will be a most unfortunate year for you. you will have a severe illness, your friends will not know if you are going to live or die, and during this illness you will endure great mental agony, caused through a woman, one of whose names begins with ----. you will meet her some time before, and she will profess to be your dearest friend. i see her bending over you, and telling you she is your best friend, and you are disposed to believe it. she is as tall as you are, but does not look so tall from a habit she has of carrying herself. she is not handsome, strictly speaking, but dark and very fascinating. she has a trick of keeping her eyes down when she speaks. she is possibly french, or of french extraction, but speaks english. she will get a hold upon ----'s mind that will nearly separate you." (at this juncture i asked, "how can i prevent it?") "if i told you, that if you went by the o'clock train from gower street, you would be smashed, you would not take that train. when you meet a woman answering this description, stop and ask yourself whether she is the one i have warned you against, before you admit her across the threshold of your house. * * * * * "----'s character is positive for good, and negative for evil. if what is even for his good were urged upon him, he would refuse to comply; but present evil to him as a possible good, and he will stop to consider whether it is not so. if he is to be guided aright, it must be by making him believe it would be impossible for him to go wrong. elevate his nature by elevating his standard of right. make it impossible for him to lower himself, by convincing him that he _would_ be lowered. he is very conceited. admiration is the breath of his life. he is always thinking what people will say of him or his actions. he is very weak under temptation, especially the temptation of flattery. he is much too fond of women. you have a difficult task before you, and you have done much harm already through your own fault. he believes too little in the evil of others--much too little. if he were unfaithful to those who trust him, he would be quite surprised to find he had broken their hearts. your work is but beginning. hitherto all has been excitement, and there has been but little danger. now comes monotony and the fear of satiety. your fault through life has been in not asserting the positive side of your character. you were born to rule, and you have sat down a slave. either through indolence or despair of success, you have presented a negative side to the insults offered you, and in the end you have been beaten. you make a great mistake in letting your female friends read all your joys and sorrows. men would sympathize and pity. women will only take advantage of them. assert your dignity as mistress in your own house, and don't let those visitors invite themselves who do not come for you. you are, as it were, the open door for more than one false friend. i warn you especially against two unmarried women--at least, if they are married, i don't see their husbands anywhere. they are both too fond of ----; one _very much_ too fond of him, and you laugh at it, and give your leave for caresses and endearments, which should never be permitted. if i were to tell them that they visit at your house for ----, and not for you, they would be very indignant. they give you presents, and really like you; but ---- is the attraction, and with one of them it only needs time, place and opportunity to cause the ruin of ---- and yourself. she has an impediment in walking. i need say no more. she wants to become still more familiar, and live under the same roof with you. you must prevent it. the other is doing more harm to herself than to anyone else. she is silly and romantic, and must dream of some one. it is a pity it should be encouraged by familiarity. ---- has no feeling for them beyond pity and friendship, but it is not necessary he should love a woman to make her dangerous to him. as far as i can see your lives extend, ---- will love you, and you will retain your influence over him if you _choose_ to do so. but it is in your own hands what you make of him. you must not judge his nature by your own. you are shutting yourself up too much. you should be surrounded by a circle of men, so that you might not draw influence from ---- alone. you should go out more, and associate with clever men, and hear what they have to say to you. you must not keep so entirely with ----. it is bad for both of you. you are making too great a demand upon his spiritual powers, and you will exhaust them too soon. a woman cannot draw spiritual life from women only. she must take it from men. there is another acquaintance i must warn you against ----; a widow, fair hair, light eyes, not clever, but cunning. she has but one purpose in visiting you. she would like to stand in your shoes. she would not hesitate to usurp your rights. be civil to her if you will, but do not encourage her visits. it were best if she passed out of your lives altogether. she can never bring you any good luck. she may be the cause of much annoyance yet. ---- should have work, active and constant, or his health will fail, living in idleness, spiritually and bodily. you tell him too often that you love him. let him feel there is always a higher height to gain, a lower depth to fall to, in your esteem. he is not the only man in the world. why should you deceive him by saying so? you are much to blame." (considering that mr. fletcher had never seen, or, as far as i knew, heard of the persons he mentioned in this tirade, it becomes a matter of speculation where or from whom he gathered this keen insight to their character and personalities, every word of which i can vouch for as being strictly true.) "many spirits are round you. some wish to speak.... a grand and noble spirit stands behind you, with his hands spread in blessing over your head. he is your father. he sends this message: 'my dear child, there were so many influences antagonistic to my own in your late married life, that i found it very difficult to get near you. now they are removed. the present conditions are much more favorable to me, and i hope to be with you often, and to help you through the life that lies before you.' there is the face of a glorified spirit, just above your head, and i see the name 'powles.' this spirit is nearer you, and more attached to you than any other in spirit land. he comes only to you, and one other creature through you--your second child. he says you will know him by the token, the song; you sung to him upon his death-bed. his love for you is the best and purest, and he is always by you, though lower influences sometimes forbid his manifesting himself. your child comes floating down, and joins hands with him. she is a very pure and beautiful spirit. she intimates that her name on earth was the same as yours, but she is called by another name in the spheres--a name that has something to do with flowers. she brings me a bunch of pure white lilies, tinged with blue, with blue petals, tied with a piece of blue ribbon, and she intimates to me by gesture that her spirit-name has something to do with them. i think i must go now, but i hope you will come and sit with me again. i shall be able to tell you more next time. my name is 'winona,' and when you ask for me i will come. good-bye...." this was the end of my first _séance_ with mr. fletcher, and i think even sceptics will allow that it was sufficiently startling for the first interview with an entire stranger. the following year i wrote again to the _banner of light_ concerning mr. fletcher, but will only give an extract from my letter. "i told you in my letter of last year that i had held a _séance_ with mr. fletcher of so private a nature that it was impossible to make it public. during that interview 'winona' made several startling prophecies concerning the future, which, it may interest your readers to know, have already been fulfilled. wishing to procure some further proofs of mr. fletcher's power before i wrote this letter to you, i prepared a different sort of test for him last week. from a drawer full of old letters i selected, _with my eyes shut_, four folded sheets of paper, which i slipped into four blank envelopes, ready prepared for them--still without looking--and closed them in the usual manner with the adhesive gum, after which i sealed them with sealing wax. i carried these envelopes to mr. fletcher, and requested "winona" to tell me the characters of the persons by whom their contents had been written. she placed them consecutively to the medium's forehead, and as she returned them to me, one by one, i wrote her comments on each on the side of the cover. on breaking the seals, the character of each writer was found to be most accurately defined, although the letters had all been written years before--(a fact which "winona" had immediately discovered). she also told me which of my correspondents were dead, and which living. here, you will observe, there could have been no reaction of my own brain upon that of the sensitive, as i was perfectly ignorant, until i reopened the envelopes, by whom the letters had been sent to me. two months ago i was invited to join in a speculation, of the advisability of which i felt uncertain. i went therefore to mr. fletcher, and asked for an interview with "winona," intending to consult her in the matter. but before i had time to mention the subject, she broached it to me, and went on to speak of the speculation itself, of the people concerned in it, and the money it was expected to produce; and, finally, she explained to me how it would collapse, with the means that would bring it to an end, putting her decided veto on my having anything to do with it. i followed "winona's" advice, and have been thankful since that i did so, as everything has turned out just as she predicted." * * * * * i think those people who desire to gain the utmost good they can out of clairvoyance should be more ready to listen and learn, and less to cavil and to question. many who have heard me relate the results of my experience have rushed off pell-mell to the same medium, perhaps, and came away woefully disappointed. were they to review the interview they would probably find they had done all the talking, and supplied all the information, leaving the clairvoyant no work to do whatever. to such i always say, whether their aim is to obtain advice in their business, or news of a lost friend, _be perfectly passive_, until the medium has said all he or she may have to say. give them time to become _en rapport_ with you, and quietude, that he may commune with the spirits you bring with you; for it is _they_, and not _his_ controls, that furnish him with the history of your life, or point out the dangers that are threatening. when he has finished speaking, he will probably ask if you have any questions to put to him, and _then_ is your turn for talking, and for gaining any particular information you may wish to acquire. if these directions are carried out, you are likely to have a much more satisfactory _séance_ than otherwise. chapter xxi. private media. people who wish to argue against spiritualism are quite sure, as a rule, that media will descend to any trickery and cheating for the sake of gain. if you reply, as in my own case, that the _séances_ have been given as a free-will offering, they say that they expected introductions or popularity or advertisement in exchange. but what can be adduced against the medium who lends his or her powers to a person whom he has never seen, and probably never will see, and for no reason, excepting that his controls urge him to the deed? such a man is mr. george plummer of massachusetts, america. in december, , when my mind was very unsettled, my friend miss schonberg advised me to write to this medium and ask his advice. she told me i must not expect an immediate reply, as mr. plummer kept a box into which he threw all the letters he received from strangers on spiritualistic subjects, and when he felt impressed to do so, he went and took out one, haphazard, and wrote the answer that was dictated to him. all i had to do was to enclose an addressed envelope, not a _stamped_ one, in my letter, to convey the answer back again. accordingly, i prepared a diplomatic epistle to this effect. "dear sir,--hearing that you are good enough to sit for strangers, i shall be much obliged if you will let me know what you see for me.--yours truly, f. lane." it will be seen that i transposed the letters of my name "lean." i addressed the return envelope in the same manner to the house in regent's park, which i then occupied, and i wrote it all in a feigned hand to conceal my identity as much as possible. the time went on and i heard nothing from mr. plummer. i was touring in the provinces for the whole of , and at the end of the year i came back to london and settled down in a new house in a different quarter of the town. by this time i had almost forgotten mr. plummer and my letter to him, and when in _december_, , two years after i had sent it, my own envelope in my own handwriting, forwarded by the postal authorities from regent's park, was brought to me, i did not at first recognize it. i kept twisting it about, and thinking how like it was to my own writing, when the truth suddenly flashed on me. i opened it and read as follows: "georgetown, november th, . "mrs. lane,--dear madam,--please pardon me for seeming neglect in answering your request. at the time of receiving your letter i could not write, and it got mislaid. coming across it now, even at the eleventh hour, i place myself in condition to answer. i see a lady with dark blue eyes before me, of a very nervous life--warm-hearted--impulsive--tropical in her nature. a woman of intense feeling--a woman whose life has been one of constant disappointment. to-day the current of life flows on smoothly but monotonous. i sense from the sphere of this lady, a weariness of life--should think she felt like alexander, because there are no more worlds for her to conquer. she is her own worst enemy. naturally generous, she radiates her refined magnetic sphere to others, and does not get back that which she can utilize. i see a bright-complexioned gentleman in earth life--brave, generous, and kind--but does not comprehend your interior life. and yet thinks the world of you to-day. i feel from you talent of a marked order. and yet life is a disappointment. not but what you have been successful in a refined, worldly sense, but your spiritual nature has been repressed. the society you move in is one of intellectual culture; that is not of the soul. and it is soul food that you are hungering for to-day. you are an inspired woman. thought seems to you, all prepared, so to speak. but it does not seem to free the tiny little messengers of your soul life. somehow i don't feel that confidence in myself in writing to you. the best kind of a reading is usually obtained in reading to a person direct. but if i don't meet your case we will call it a failure and let it go. the year of is going to be more favorable to you than for the last ten years. i think in some way you are to meet with more reciprocity of soul. as the divining rod points to the stream of water in the earth, so i find my intuitive eye takes cognizance of your interior life. you will in a degree catch my meaning through this, and it will come clearer, more through your intuition than through your intellect. i should say to you, follow your instincts and intuitions always through life. if this throws any light over your path i am glad.--i remain, most respectfully yours, george plummer." now there are two noticeable things in this letter. first, mr. plummer's estimate of my interior life almost coincides with mr. fletcher's given in , ten years before. next, although he read it through the medium of a letter written in , he draws a picture of my position and surroundings in . both these things appeared to me very curious as coming from a stranger across the atlantic, and i answered his letter at once, still preserving my slight incognita, and telling him that as he had read so much of my life from my handwriting of so long ago, i wished he would try to read more from words which went fresh from me to him. i also enclosed a piece of the handwriting of a friend. mr. plummer did not keep me waiting this time. his next letter was dated february th, . "dear madam,--i received yours of january rd, and would have answered before, but the spirit did not move. i have been tied to a sick room going on three months, with its cares and anxieties. not the best condition for writing. the best condition to reflect your life, to give your soul strength, is to be at rest and have all earth conditions nullified. but that cannot be to-day. so i will try to penetrate the mystery of your life as best i can, and radiate to you at least some strength. the relation of soul is the difficulty of your life, and you are so perfectly inspirational that it makes the condition worse. grand types of manhood and womanhood come to you from the higher life, and your spirit and soul catch the reflection, and are disappointed because they cannot live that life. but you are getting a development out of all this friction. now if you would come in contact with that nature that could radiate to you just what you could give to it, you would be happy. love is absolute, you well know. often in the exchange of thought we give each other strength. and then every letter we write, every time we shake hands, we give some of our own personality out. you are too sensitive to the spheres of people. you have such a strong personality of life that the power that inspires you could not make the perfect junction until you get so, you had rather die than live. that was a condition of negation. now you have been running on a dead level of nothingness for two years and a half." (this was exactly the time since my daughter had been taken from me). "_i mean it seems so to you._ such a sameness of things. i get from the writing of the gentleman. a good sphere--warm hearted--true to his understanding of things. he seems to be a sort of a half-way house to you. that is, you roam in the sea of ideality, down deep, you know. and he rather holds on to matter-of-fact--sort of ballast for you. you need it. for you are, in fact, ripe for the other life, though it is not time to go yet. although a writer, yet you are a disappointed one. no mortal but yourself knows this. you have winged your way in flights, grand and lofty, and cannot _pen it_, is what is the matter. now, in time you will, more perfectly than to-day, by the touch of your pen, portray your soul and its flights. then i see you happy. this gentleman is an auxiliary power, whether the power in full of your life i do not to-day get. you are emphatically a woman of destiny, and should follow your _impressions_, for through that intuitive law you will be saved. i mean by 'saved,' leap, as it were, across difficulties instead of going round. for your soul is more positive and awake to its necessities to-day than ever before in your life, particularly in the last six months. body marriages are good under the physical law--bring certain unfoldments. but when mortal man and woman reach a certain condition of development, they become dissatisfied, and yearn for the full fruition of love. and there is no limitation of this law. women usually bow to the heart-love law, that sometimes brings great joy and misery. the time is ripe for rulers. there will be put into the field men, and more specifically women, who have exemplified love divine. they will teach the law so plainly that they who run can read. and it can only be taught by those who have embodied it. some years ago, in this country, there was a stir-up. it did its work in fermentation. the next must be humanization. the material world must come under the spiritual. women will come to the front as inspired powers. this is what comes to me to write to you to-day. if it brings strength, or one ray of sun-shine to you, i am glad.--i remain, most respectfully yours, george plummer." mr. plummer is not occupying a high position in the world, nor is he a rich man. he gains no popularity by his letters--he hears no applause--he reaps no personal benefit, nor will he take any money. it would be difficult, with any degree of reason, to charge him with cheating the public for the sake of emptying their pockets. i fail to see, therefore, how he can obtain his insight to one's interior life by mortal means, nor, unless compelled by a power superior to his own, why he should take the trouble to obtain it. another medium, whose health paid the sacrifice demanded of her for the exhibition of a power over which, at one time, she had no control, and which never brought her in anything but the thanks of her friends, is mrs. keningale cook (mabel collins), whom i have mentioned in the "story of my spirit child." there was a photographer in london, named hudson, who had been very successful in developing spirit photographs. he would prepare to take an ordinary photograph, and on developing the plate, one or more spirit forms would be found standing by the sitter, in which forms were recognized the faces of deceased friends. of course, the generality of people said that the plates were prepared beforehand with vague misty figures, and the imagination of the sitter did the rest. i had been for some time anxious to test mr. hudson's powers for myself, and one morning very early, between nine and ten o'clock, i asked mrs. cook, as a medium, to accompany me to his studio. he was not personally acquainted with either of us, and we went so early that we found him rather unwilling to set to work. indeed, at first he declined. we disturbed him at breakfast and in his shirt sleeves, and he told us his studio had been freshly painted, and it was quite impossible to use it until dry. but we pressed him to take our photographs until he consented, and we ascended to the studio. it was certainly very difficult to avoid painting ourselves, and the screen placed behind was perfectly wet. we had not mentioned a word to mr. hudson about spirit photographs, and the first plate he took out and held up to the light, we saw him draw his coat sleeve across. when we asked him what he was doing, he turned to us and said, "are you ladies spiritualists?" when we answered in the affirmative, he continued, "i rubbed out the plate because i thought there was something on it, and most sitters would object. i often have to destroy three or four negatives before i get a clear picture." we begged him not to rub out any more as we were curious to see the results. he, consequently, developed three photographs of us, sitting side by side. the first was too indistinct to be of any use. it represented us, with a third form, merely a patch of white, lying on the ground, whilst a mass of hair was over my knee. "florence" afterwards informed me that this was an attempt to depict herself. the second picture showed mrs. cook and myself as before, with "charlie" standing behind me. i have spoken of "charlie" (stephen charles bernard abbott) in "curious coincidences," and how much he was attached to me and mine. in the photograph he is represented in his cowl and monk's frock--with ropes round his waist, and his face looking down. in the third picture, an old lady in a net cap and white shawl was standing with her two hands on mrs. cook's shoulders. this was her grandmother, and the profile was so distinctly delineated, that her father, mr. mortimer collins, recognized it at once as the portrait of his mother. the old lady had been a member of the plymouth brethren sect, and wore the identical shawl of white silk with an embroidered border which she used to wear during her last years on earth. i have seen many other spirit photographs taken by mr. hudson, but i adhere to my resolution to speak only of that which i have proved by the exercise of my own senses. i have the two photographs i mention to this day, and have often wished that mr. hudson's removal from town had not prevented my sitting again to him in order to procure the likenesses of other friends. miss caroline pawley is a lady who advertises her willingness to obtain messages for others from the spirit world, but is forbidden by her guides to take presents or money. i thought at first this must be a "_ruse_." "surely," i said to a friend who knew miss pawley, "i ought to take books, or flowers, or some little offering in my hand." "if you do she will return them," was the reply. "all that is necessary is to write and make an appointment, as her time is very much taken up." accordingly i did write, and miss pawley kindly named an early date for my visit. it was but a few months after i had lost my beloved daughter, and i longed for news of her. i arrived at miss pawley's residence, a neat little house in the suburbs, and was received by my hostess, a sweet, placid-faced woman, who looked the embodiment of peace and calm happiness. after we had exchanged greetings she said to me, "you have lost a daughter." "i lost one about twenty years ago--a baby of ten days old," i replied. "i don't mean her," said miss pawley, "i mean a young woman. i will tell you how i came to know of it. i took out my memoranda yesterday and was looking it through to see what engagements i had made for to-day, and i read the names aloud to myself. as i came to the entry, 'mrs. lean, o'clock,' i heard a low voice say behind me, 'that is my dear, _dear_ mother!' and when i turned round, i saw standing at my elbow a young woman about the middle height, with blue eyes and very long brown hair, and she told me that it is _she_ whom you are grieving for at present." i made no answer to this speech, for my wound was too fresh to permit me to talk of her; and miss pawley proceeded. "come!" she said cheerfully, "let us get paper and pencil and see what the dear child has to say to us." she did not go under trance, but wrote rapidly for a few moments and then handed me a letter written in the following manner. i repeat (what i have said before) that i do not test the genuineness of such a manifestation by the act itself. _anyone_ might have written the letter, but no one but myself could recognize the familiar expressions and handwriting, nor detect the apparent inconsistencies that made it so convincing. it was written in two different hands on alternate lines, the first line being written by "eva," and the next by "florence," and so on. now, my earthly children from their earliest days have never called me anything but "mother," whilst "florence," who left me before she could speak, constantly calls me "mamma." this fact alone could never have been known to miss pawley. added to which the portion written by my eldest daughter was in her own clear decided hand, whilst "florence's" contribution was in rather a childish, or "young ladylike" scribble. the lines ran thus. the italics are florence's:-- "my own beloved mother. _my dear, dear, dearest mamma._ you must not grieve so terribly for me. _and knowing all we have taught you, you should not grieve._ believe me, i am not unhappy. _of course not, and she will be very happy soon._ but i suffer pain in seeing you suffer. _dear mamma, do try to see that it is for the best._ florence is right. it is best! dear mother. _and we shall all meet so soon, you know._ god bless you for all your love for me. _good-bye, dear, dearest mamma._ your own girl. _your loving little florence._" i cannot comment on this letter. i only make it public in a cause that is sacred to me. to instance another case of mediumship which is exercised for neither remuneration nor applause. i am obliged in this example to withhold the name, because to betray their identity would be to ill requite a favor which was courteously accorded me. i had heard of a family of the name of d---- who held private sittings once a week, at which the mother and brothers and sisters gone before materialized and joined the circle; and having expressed my desire, through a mutual acquaintance, to assist at their _séances_, mr. d---- kindly sent me an invitation to one. i found he was a high-class tradesman, living in a good house in the suburbs, and that strangers were very seldom (if ever) admitted to their circle. mr. d---- explained to me before the _séance_ commenced, that they regarded spiritualism as a most sacred thing, that they sat only to have communication with their own relations, his wife and children, and that his wife never manifested except when they were alone. his earth family consisted of a young married daughter and her husband, and four or five children of different ages. he had lost, i think he told me, a grown-up son, and two little ones. william haxby, the medium, whom i wrote of in my chapter "on sceptics," and who had passed over since then, had been intimate with their family, and often came back to them. these explanations over, the _séance_ began. the back and front parlors were divided by lace curtains only. in the back, where the young married daughter took up her position on a sofa, were a piano and an american organ. in the front parlor, which was lighted by an oil lamp, we sat about on chairs and sofas, but without any holding of hands. in a very short time the lace curtains parted and a young man's face appeared. this was the grown-up brother. "hullo! tom," they all exclaimed, and the younger ones went up and kissed him. he spoke a while to his father, telling what they proposed to do that evening, but saying his mother would not be able to materialize. as he was speaking, a little boy stood by his side. "here's harry," cried the children, and they brought their spirit brother out into the room between them. he seemed to be about five years old. his father told him to come and speak to me, and he obeyed, just like a little human child, and stood before me with his hand resting on my knee. then a little girl joined the party, and the two children walked about the room, talking to everybody in turn. as we were occupied with them, we heard the notes of the american organ. "here's haxby," said mr. d----. "now we shall have a treat." (i must say here that mr. haxby was an accomplished organist on earth.) as he heard his name, he, too, came to the curtains, and showed his face with its ungainly features, and intimated that he and "tom" would play a duet. accordingly the two instruments pealed forth together, and the spirits really played gloriously--a third influence joining in with some stringed instrument. this _séance_ was so much less wonderful than many i have written of, that i should not have included a description of it, except to prove that all media do not ply their profession in order to prey upon their fellow-creatures. the d---- family are only anxious to avoid observation. there could be no fun or benefit in deceiving each other, and yet they devote one evening in each week to holding communion with those they loved whilst on earth and feel are only hidden from them for a little while, and by a very flimsy veil. their _séances_ truly carry out the great poet's belief. "then the forms of the departed enter at the open door; the belovéd, the true-hearted, come to visit me once more. * * * * * with a slow and noiseless footstep comes that messenger divine, takes the vacant chair beside me, lays her gentle hand in mine. * * * * * uttered not, yet, comprehended, is the spirit's voiceless prayer. soft rebukes, in blessings ended, breathing from her lips of air." in the house of the lady i have mentioned in "the story of the monk," mrs. uniacke of bruges, i have witnessed marvellous phenomena. they were not pleasant manifestations, very far from it, but there was no doubt that they were genuine. whether they proceeded from the agency of mrs. uniacke, my sister blanche, or a young lady called miss robinson, who sat with them, or from the power of all three combined, i cannot say, but they had experienced them on several occasions before i joined them, and were eager that i should be a witness of them. we sat in mrs. uniacke's house, in a back drawing-room, containing a piano and several book-cases, full of books--some of them very heavy. we sat round a table in complete darkness, only we four women, with locked doors and bolted windows. accustomed as i was to all sorts of manifestations and mediumship, i was really frightened by what occurred. the table was most violent in its movements, our chairs were dragged from under us, and heavy articles were thrown about the room. the more mrs. uniacke expostulated and miss robinson laughed, the worse the tumult became. the books were taken from the shelves and hurled at our heads, several of the blows seriously hurting us; the keys of the piano at the further end of the room were thumped and crashed upon, as if they would be broken; and in the midst of it all miss robinson fell prone upon the floor, and commenced talking in flemish, a language of which she had no knowledge. my sister understands it, and held a conversation with the girl; and she told us afterwards that miss robinson had announced herself by the name of a fleming lately deceased in the town, and detailed many events of his life, and messages which he wished to be delivered to his family--all of which were conveyed in good and intelligible flemish. when the young lady had recovered she resumed her place at the table, as my sister was anxious i should see another table, which they called "mademoiselle" dance, whilst unseen hands thumped the piano. the manifestation not occurring, however, they thought it must be my presence, and ordered me away from the table. i went and stood up close against the folding doors that led into the front room, keeping my hand, with a purpose, on the handle. the noise and confusion palpably increased when the three ladies were left alone. "mademoiselle," who stood in a corner of the room, commenced to dance about, and the notes of the piano crashed forcibly. there was something strange to me about the manifestation of the piano. it sounded as if it were played with feet instead of hands. when the tumult was at its height, i suddenly, and without warning, threw open the folding door and let the light in upon the scene, and i saw _the music-stool mounted on the keyboard_ and hammering the notes down. as the light was admitted, both "mademoiselle" and the music-stool fell with a crash to the floor, and the _séance_ was over. the ladies were seated at the table, and the floor and articles of furniture were strewn with the books which had been thrown down--the bookshelves being nearly emptied--and pots of flowers. i was never at such a pandemonium before or after. the late sir percy shelley and his wife lady shelley, having no children of their own, adopted a little girl, who, when about four or five years, was seriously burned about the chest and shoulders, and confined for some months to her bed. the child's cot stood in lady shelley's bedroom, and when her adopted mother was about to say her prayers, she was accustomed to give the little girl a pencil and piece of paper to keep her quiet. one day the child asked for pen and ink instead of a pencil, and on being refused began to cry, and said, "the _man_ said she must have pen and ink." as it was particularly enjoined that she must not cry for fear of reopening her wounds, lady shelley provided her with the desired articles, and proceeded to her devotions. when she rose from them, she saw to her surprise that the child had drawn an outline of a group of figures in the flaxman style, representing mourners kneeling round a couch with a sick man laid upon it. she did not understand the meaning of the picture, but she was struck with amazement at the execution of it, as was everybody who saw it. from that day she gave the little girl a sheet of card-board each morning, with pen and ink, and obtained a different design, the child always talking glibly of "the man" who helped her to draw. this went on until the drawings numbered thirty or forty, when a "glossary of symbols" was written out by this baby, who could neither write nor spell, which explained the whole matter. it was then discovered that the series of drawings represented the life of the soul on leaving the body, until it was lost "in the infinity of god"--a likely subject to be chosen, or understood, by a child of five. i heard this story from lady shelley's lips, and i have seen (and well examined) the original designs. they were at one time to be published by subscription, but i believe it never came to pass. i have also seen the girl who drew them, most undoubtedly under control. she was then a young married woman and completely ignorant of anything relating to spiritualism. i asked her if she remembered the circumstances under which she drew the outlines, and she laughed and said no. she knew she had drawn them, but she had no idea how. all she could tell me was that she had never done anything wonderful since, and she had no interest in spiritualism whatever. chapter xxii. various media. a very strong and remarkable clairvoyant is mr. towns, of portobello road. as a business adviser or foreteller of the future, i don't think he is excelled. the inquirer after prophecy will not find a grand mansion to receive him in portobello road. on the contrary, this soothsayer keeps a small shop in the oil trade, and is himself only an honest, and occasionally rather rough spoken, tradesman. he will see clients privately on any day when he is at home, though it is better to make an appointment, but he holds a circle on his premises each tuesday evening, to which everybody is admitted, and where the contribution is anything you may be disposed to give, from coppers to gold. these meetings, which are very well attended, are always opened by mr. towns with prayer, after which a hymn is sung, and the _séance_ commences. there is full gas on all the time, and mr. towns sits in the midst of the circle. he does not go under trance, but rubs his forehead for a few minutes and then turns round suddenly and addresses members of his audience, as it may seem, promiscuously, but it is just as he is impressed. he talks, as a rule, in metaphor, or allegorically, but his meaning is perfectly plain to the person he addresses. it is not only silly women, or curious inquirers, who attend mr. towns' circles. you may see plenty of grave, and often anxious, business men around him, waiting to hear if they shall sell out their shares, or hold on till the market rises; where they are to search for lost certificates or papers of value; or on whom they are to fix the blame of money or articles of value that have disappeared. once in my presence a serious-looking man had kept his eye fixed on him for some time, evidently anxious to speak. mr. towns turned suddenly to him. "you want to know, sir," he commenced, without any preface, "where that baptismal certificate is to be found." "i do, indeed," replied the man; "it is a case of a loss of thousands if it is not forthcoming." "let me see," said mr. towns, with his finger to his forehead. "have you tried a church with a square tower without any steeple, an ugly, clumsy building, white-washed inside, standing in a village. stop! i can see the registrar books--the village's name is ----. the entry is at page . the name is ----. the mother's name is ----. is that the certificate you want?" "it is, indeed," said the man; "and it is in the church at ----?" "didn't i say it was in the church at ----?" replied mr. towns, who does not like to be doubted or contradicted. "go and you will find it there." and the man _did_ go and did find it there. to listen to the conversations that go on between him and his clients at these meetings, mr. towns is apparently not less successful with love affairs than with business affairs, and it is an interesting experience to attend them, if only for the sake of curiosity. but naturally, to visit him privately is to command much more of his attention. he will not, however, sit for everybody, and it is of no use attempting to deceive him. he is exceedingly keen-sighted into character, and if he takes a dislike to a man he will tell him so without the slightest hesitation. no society lies are manufactured in the little oil shop. a relative of mine, who was not the most faithful husband in the world, and who, in consequence, judged of his wife's probity by his own, went, during her temporary absence, to mr. towns to ask him a delicate question. the lady was well known to the medium, but the husband he had never seen before, and had no notion who his sitter was, until he pulled out a letter from his pocket, thrust it across the table, and said, "there! look at that letter and tell me if the writer is faithful to me." mr. towns told me that as he took the envelope in his hand, he saw the lady's face photographed upon it, and at the same moment, all the blackness of the husband's own life. he rose up like an avenging deity and pointed to the door. "this letter," he said, "was written by mrs. ----. go! man, and wash your own hands clean, and _then_ come and ask me questions about your wife." and so the "heavy swell" had to slink downstairs again. i have often gone myself to mr. towns before engaging in any new business, and always received the best advice, and been told exactly what would occur during its progress. when i was about to start on the "golden goblin" tour in management with my son--i went to him to ask if it would be successful. he not only told me what money it would bring in, but where the weak points would occur. the drama was then completed, and in course of rehearsal, and had been highly commended by all who had heard and seen it. mr. towns, however, who had neither seen nor heard it, insisted it would have to be altered before it was a complete success. this annoyed me, and i knew it would annoy my son, the author; besides, i believed it was a mistake, so i said nothing about it. before it had run a month, however, the alterations were admitted on all sides to be necessary, and were consequently made. everything that mr. towns prognosticated on that occasion came to pass, even to the strangers i should encounter on tour, and how their acquaintance would affect my future life; also how long the tour would last, and in which towns it would achieve the greatest success. i can assure some of my professional friends, that if they would take the trouble to consult a trustworthy clairvoyant about their engagements before booking them, they would not find themselves so often in the hands of the bogus manager as they do now. a short time ago i received a summons to the county court, and although i _knew_ i was in the right, yet law has so many loopholes that i felt nervous. the case was called for eleven o'clock on a certain wednesday, and the evening before i joined mr. towns' circle. when it came to my turn to question him, i said, "do you see where i shall be to-morrow morning?" he replied, "i can see you are called to appear in a court-house, but the case will be put off." "_put off_," i repeated, "but it is fixed for eleven. it can't be put off." "cases are sometimes relegated to another court," said mr. towns. then i thought he had quite got out of his depth, and replied, "you are making a mistake. this is quite an ordinary business. it can't go to a higher court. but shall i gain it?" "in the afternoon," said the medium. his answers so disappointed me that i placed no confidence in them, and went to the county court on the following morning in a nervous condition. but he was perfectly correct. the case was called for eleven, but as the defendant was not forthcoming, it was passed over, and the succeeding hearings occupied so much time, that the magistrate thought mine would never come off, so he _relegated it at two o'clock to another court_ to be heard before the registrar, who decided it at once in my favor, so that i _gained it in the afternoon_. * * * * * one afternoon in my "green sallet" days of spiritualism, when every fresh experience almost made my breath stop, i turned into the progressive library in southampton row, to ask if there were any new media come to town. mr. burns did not know of any, but asked me if i had ever attended one of mrs. olive's _séances_, a series of which were being held weekly in the library rooms. i had not, and i bought a half-crown ticket for admission, and returned there the same evening. when i entered the _séance_ room, the medium had not arrived, and i had time to take stock of the audience. it seemed a very sad and serious one. there was no whispering nor giggling going on, and it struck me they looked more like patients waiting the advent of the doctor, than people bound on an evening's amusement. and that, to my surprise, was what i afterwards found they actually were. mrs. olive did not keep us long waiting, and when she came in, dressed in a lilac muslin dress, with her golden hair parted plainly on her forehead, her _very_ blue eyes, and a sweet, womanly smile for her circle, she looked as unlike the popular idea of a professional medium as anyone could possibly do. she sat down on a chair in the middle of the circle, and, having closed her eyes, went off to sleep. presently she sat up, and, still with her eyes closed, said in a very pleasant, but decidedly _manly_, voice: "and now, my friends, what can i do for you?" a lady in the circle began to ask advice about her daughter. the medium held up her hand. "stop!" she exclaimed, "you are doing _my_ work. friend, your daughter is ill, you say. then it is _my_ business to see what is the matter with her. will you come here, young lady, and let me feel your pulse." having done which, the medium proceeded to detail exactly the contents of the girl's stomach, and to advise her what to eat and drink for the future. another lady then advanced with a written prescription. the medium examined her, made an alteration or two in the prescription, and told her to go on with it till further orders. my curiosity was aroused, and i whispered to my next neighbor to tell me who the control was. "sir john forbes, a celebrated physician," she replied. "he has almost as large a connection now as he had when alive." i was not exactly ill at the time, but i was not strong, and nothing that my family doctor prescribed for me seemed to do me any good. so wishing to test the abilities of "sir john forbes," i went up to the medium and knelt down by her side. "what is the matter with me, sir john?" i began. "don't call me by that name, little friend," he answered; "we have no titles on this side the world." "what shall i call you, then?" i said. "doctor, plain doctor," was the reply, but in such a kind voice. "then tell me what is the matter with me, doctor." "come nearer, and i'll whisper it in your ear." he then gave me a detailed account of the manner in which i suffered, and asked what i had been taking. when i told him, "all wrong, all wrong," he said, shaking his head. "here! give me a pencil and paper." i had a notebook in my pocket, with a metallic pencil, which i handed over to him, and he wrote a prescription in it. "take that, and you'll be all the better, little friend," he said, as he gave it to me back again. when i had time to examine what he had written, i found to my surprise that the prescription was in abbreviated latin, with the amount of each ingredient given in the regular medical shorthand. mrs. olive, a simple though intelligent looking woman, seemed a very unlikely person to me to be educated up to this degree. however, i determined to obtain a better opinion than my own, so the next time my family doctor called to see me, i said: "i have had a prescription given me, doctor, which i am anxious, with your permission, to try. i wish you would glance your eye over it and see if you approve of my taking it." at the same time i handed him the note-book, and i saw him grow very red as he looked at the prescription. "anything wrong?" i inquired. "o! dear no!" he replied in an offended tone; "you can try your remedy, and welcome, for aught i care--only, next time you wish to consult a new doctor, i advise you to dismiss the old one first." "but this prescription was not written by a doctor," i argued. at this he looked still more offended. "it's no use trying to deceive me, mrs. ross-church! that prescription was written by no one but a medical man." it was a long time before i could make him really believe _who_ had transcribed it, and under what circumstances. when he was convinced of the truth of my statement, he was very much astonished, and laid all his professional pique aside. he did more. he not only urged me to have the prescription made up, but he confessed that his first chagrin was due to the fact that he felt he should have thought of it himself. "_that_," he said, pointing to one ingredient, "is the very thing to suit your case, and it makes me feel such a fool to think that a _woman_ should think of what _i_ passed over." nothing would make this doctor believe in spiritualism, though he continued to aver that only a medical man could have prescribed the medicine; but as i saw dozens of other cases treated at the time by mrs. olive, and have seen dozens since, i know that she does it by a power not her own. for several years after that "sir john forbes" used to give me advice about my health, and when his medium married colonel greck and went to live in russia, he was so sorry to leave his numerous patients, and they to lose him, that he wanted to control _me_ in order that i might carry on his practice, but after several attempts he gave it up as hopeless. he said my brain was too active for any spirit to magnetize; and he is not the first, nor last, who has made the same attempt, and failed. "sir john forbes" was not mrs. olive's only control. she had a charming spirit called "sunshine," who used to come for clairvoyance and prophecy; and a very comical negro named "hambo," who was as humorous and full of native wit and repartee, as negroes generally are, and as mrs. olive, who is a very gentle, quiet woman, decidedly was _not_. "hambo" was the business adviser and director, and sometimes materialized, which the others did not. these three influences were just as opposite from one another, and from mrs. olive, as any creatures could possibly be. "sir john forbes," so dignified, courteous, and truly benevolent--such a thorough old _gentleman_; "sunshine," a sweet, sympathetic indian girl, full of gentle reproof for wrong and exhortations to lead a higher life; and "hambo," humorous and witty, calling a spade a spade, and occasionally descending to coarseness, but never unkind or wicked. i knew them all over a space of years until i regarded them as old friends. mrs. greck is now a widow, and residing in england, and, i hear, sitting again for her friends. if so, a great benefit in the person of "sir john forbes" has returned for a portion of mankind. i have kept a well-known physical medium to the last, not because i do not consider his powers to be completely genuine, but because they are of a nature that will not appeal to such as have not witnessed them. i allude to mr. charles williams, with whom i have sat many times alone, and also with mrs. guppy volckman. the manifestations that take place at his _séances_ are always material. the much written of "john king" is his principal control, and invariably appears under his mediumship; and "ernest" is the name of another. i have seen charles williams leave the cabinet under trance and wander in an aimless manner about the room, whilst both "john king" and "ernest" were with the circle, and have heard them reprove him for rashness. i have also seen him under the same circumstances, during an afternoon _séance_, mistake the window curtains for the curtains of the cabinet, and draw them suddenly aside, letting the full light of day in upon the scene, and showing vacancy where a moment before two figures had been standing and talking. once when "john king" asked colonel lean what he should bring him, he was told _mentally_ to fetch the half-hoop diamond ring from my finger and place it on that of my husband. this half-hoop ring was worn between my wedding ring and a heavy gold snake ring, and i was holding the hand of my neighbor all the time, and yet the ring was abstracted from between the other two and transferred to colonel lean's finger without my being aware of the circumstance. these and various other marvels, i have seen under mr. williams' mediumship; but as i can adduce no proof that they were genuine, except my own conviction, it would be useless to write them down here. only i could not close the list of the media with whom i have familiarly sat in london, and from whom i have received both kindness and courtesy, without including his name. it is the same with several others--with mr. frank herne (now deceased) and his wife mrs. herne, whom i first knew as mrs. bassett, a famous medium for the direct spirit voice; with mrs. wilkinson, a clairvoyant who has a large _clientèle_ of wealthy and aristocratic patrons; with mrs. wilkins and mr. vango, both reliable, though, as yet, less well known to the spiritualistic public; and with dr. wilson, the astrologer, who will tell you all you have ever done, and all you are ever going to do, if you will only give him the opportunity of casting your horoscope. to all and each i tender my thanks for having afforded me increased opportunities of searching into the truth of a science that possesses the utmost interest for me, and that has given me the greatest pleasure. chapter xxiii. on laying the cards. at the risk of being laughed at, i cannot refrain, in the course of this narrative of my spiritualistic experiences, from saying a few words about what is called "laying the cards." "imagine!" i fancy i hear some dear creature with nose "tip-tilted like a flower" exclaim, "any sensible woman believing in cards." and yet napoleon believed in them, and regulated the fate of nations by them; and the only times he neglected their admonitions were followed by the retreat from moscow and the defeat at waterloo. still i did not believe in card-telling till the belief was forced upon me. i always thought it rather cruel to give imprisonment and hard labor to old women who laid the cards for servant girls. who can tell whether or no it is obtaining money upon false pretences; and if it is, why not inflict the same penalty on every cheating tradesman who sells inferior articles or gives short weight? women would be told they should look after their own interests in the one case--so why not in the other? but all the difference lies in _who_ lays the cards. very few people can do it successfully, and my belief is that it must be done by a person with mediumistic power, which, in some mysterious manner, influences the disposition of the pack. i have seen cards shuffled and cut twenty times in the hope of getting rid of some number antagonistic to the inquirer's good fortune, and yet each time the same card would turn up in the juxtaposition least to be desired. however, to narrate my own experience. when i was living in brussels, years before i heard of modern spiritualism, i made the acquaintance of an irish lady called mrs. thorpe, a widow who was engaged as a _châperon_ for some young belgian ladies of high birth, who had lost their mother. we lived near each other, and she often came in to have a chat with me. after a while i heard through some other friends that mrs. thorpe was a famous hand at "laying the cards;" and one day, when we were alone, i asked her to tell me my fortune. i didn't in the least believe in it, but i wanted to be amused. mrs. thorpe begged to be excused at once. she told me her predictions had proved so true, she was afraid to look into futurity any more. she had seen a son and heir for a couple who had been married twenty years without having any children, and death for a girl just about to become a bride--and both had come true; and, in fact, her employer, the baron, had strictly forbidden her doing it any more whilst in his house. however, this only fired my curiosity, and i teased her until, on my promising to preserve the strictest secrecy, she complied with my request. she predicted several things in which i had little faith, but which i religiously wrote down in case they came true--the three most important being that my husband, colonel ross-church (who was then most seriously ill in india), would not die, but that his brother, edward church, would; that i should have one more child by my first marriage--a daughter with exceedingly fair skin and hair, who would prove to be the cleverest of all my children, and that after her birth i should never live with my husband again. all these events were most unlikely to come to pass at that time, and, indeed, did not come to pass for years afterwards, yet each one was fulfilled, and the daughter who, unlike all her brothers and sisters, is fair as a lily, will be by no means the last in the race for talent. yet these cards were laid four years before her birth. mrs. thorpe told me she had learnt the art from a pupil of the identical italian countess who used to lay the cards for the emperor napoleon. but it is not an art, and it is not to be learnt. it is inspiration. many years after this, when i had just begun to study spiritualism, my sister told me of a wonderful old lady, a neighbor of hers, who had gained quite an evil reputation in the village by her prophetical powers with the cards. like mrs. thorpe, she had become afraid of herself, and professed to have given up the practice. the last time she had laid them, a girl acquaintance had walked over joyously from an adjacent village to introduce her affianced husband to her, and to beg her to tell them what would happen in their married life. the old lady had laid the cards, and saw the death card turn up three times with the marriage ring, and told the young people, much to their chagrin, that they must prepare for a disappointment, as their marriage would certainly be postponed from some obstacle arising in the way. she told me afterwards that she dared not tell them more than this. they left her somewhat sobered, but still full of hope, and started on their way home. before they reached it the young man staggered and fell down dead. no one had expected such a catastrophe. he had been apparently in the best of health and spirits. _what_ was it that had made this old lady foresee what no one else had seen? these are no trumped-up tales after the prediction had been fulfilled. everyone knew it to be true, and became frightened to look into the future for themselves. i was an exception to the general rule, however, and persuaded mrs. simmonds to lay the cards for me. i had just completed a two months' sojourn at the seaside, was in robust health, and anticipating my return home for the sake of meeting again with a friend who was very dear to me. i shuffled and cut the cards according to directions. the old lady looked rather grave. "i don't like your cards," she said, "there is a good deal of trouble before you--trouble and sickness. you will not return home so soon as you anticipate. you will be detained by illness, and when you do return, you will find a letter on the table that will cut you to the heart. i am sorry you have stayed away so long. there has been treachery in your absence, and a woman just your opposite, with dark eyes and hair, has got the better of you. however, it will be a sharp trouble, but not a lengthy one. you will see the wisdom of it before long, and be thankful it has happened." i accepted my destiny with complacency, never supposing (notwithstanding all that i had heard) that it would come true. i was within a few days of starting for home, and had received affectionate letters from my friend all the time i had been away. however, as fate and the cards would have it, i was taken ill the very day after they were laid for me, and confined for three weeks with a kind of low fever to my bed; and when weakened and depressed i returned to my home i found _the letter on my table_ that mrs. simmonds had predicted for me, to say that my friendship with my (supposed) friend _was over and done with for ever_. after this i began to have more respect for cards, or rather for the persons who successfully laid them. in , when i was touring with my company with the "golden goblin," i stayed for the first time in my life in accrington. our sojourn there was to be only for a week, and, as may be supposed, the accommodation in the way of lodgings was very poor. when we had been there a few days a lady of the company said to me, "there is such a funny old woman at my lodgings, miss marryat! i wish you'd come and see her. she can tell fortunes with the cards, and i know you believe in such things. she has told my husband and me all about ourselves in the most wonderful manner; but you mustn't come when the old man is at home, because he says it's devilry, and he has forbidden her doing it." "i _am_ very much interested in that sort of thing," i replied, "and i will certainly pay her a visit, if you will tell me when i may come." a time was accordingly fixed for my going to the lady's rooms, and on my arrival there i was introduced to a greasy, snuffy old landlady, who didn't look as if she had a soul above a bottle of gin. however, i sat down at a table with her, and the cards were cut. she told me nothing that my friends might have told her concerning me, but dived at once into the future. my domestic affairs were in a very complicated state at that period, and i had no idea myself how they would end. she saw the whole situation at a glance--described the actors in the scene, the places they lived in, the people by whom they were surrounded, and exactly how the whole business would end, and _did_ end. she foretold the running of the tour, how long it would last, and which of the company would leave before it concluded. she told me that a woman in the company, whom i believed at that time to be attached to me, would prove to be one of my greatest enemies, and be the cause of estrangement between me and one of my nearest relations, and she opened my eyes to that woman's character in a way which forced me afterwards to find out that to which i might have been blind forever. and this information emanated from a dirty, ignorant, old lodging keeper, who had probably never heard of my name until it was thrust before her, and yet told me things that my most intimate and cleverest friends had no power to tell me. after the woman at accrington i never looked at a card for the purpose of divination until my attention was directed last year to a woman in london who is very clever at the same thing, and a friend asked me to go with her and see what she could tell us. this woman, who is quite of the lower class, and professedly a dressmaker, received us in a bedroom, the door of which was carefully locked. she was an elderly woman and rather intelligent and well educated for her position, but she could adduce no reason whatever for her facility in reading the cards. she told me "it _came_ to her," she didn't know why or how. it "came to her" with a vengeance for me. she rattled off my past, present and future as if she had been reading from an open book, and she mentioned the description of a person (which i completely recognized) so constantly with reference to my future, that i thought i would try her by a question. "stop a minute," i said, "this person whom you have alluded to so often--have i ever met him?" "of course you have met him," she replied, "you know him intimately." "i don't recognize the description," i returned, fallaciously. the woman turned round and looked me full in the face. "_you don't recognize him?_" she repeated in an incredulous tone, "then you must be very dull. well! i'll tell you how to recognize him. next time you meet a gentleman out walking who raises his hat, and before he shakes hands with you, draws a written or printed paper from his pocket and presents it to you, you can remember my words. _that_ is the man i mean." i laughed at the quaintness of the idea and returned home. as i was walking from the station to my own house i met the person she had described. as he neared me he raised his hat, and then putting his hand in his pocket he said, "good afternoon! i have something for you! i met burrows this morning. he was going on to you, but as he was in a great hurry he asked me if i was likely to see you to-day to give you this." and he presented me with a printed paper of regulations which i had asked the man he mentioned to procure for me. now, here was no stereotyped utterance of the cards--no stock phrase--but a deliberate prophecy of an unfulfilled event. it is upon such things that i base my opinion that, given certain persons and certain circumstances, the cards are a very fertile source of information. it is absurd in cases like those i have related to lay it all down to chance, to clever guessing, or to trickery. if my readers believe so, let me ask them to try it for themselves. if it is all folly, and any stupid, ignorant old woman can do it, of course _they_ must be able to master the trick. let them get a pack of cards and lay them according to the usual directions--there are any number of books published that will tell them how to do it--and then see if they can foretell a single event of importance correctly. they will probably find (as _i_ do) that the cards are a sealed book to them. i would give a great deal to be able to lay the cards with any degree of success for myself or my friends. but nothing "comes to me." the cards remain painted pieces of cardboard, and nothing more. and yet an ignorant creature who has no brains of her own can dive deep into the mysteries of my mind, and turn my inmost thoughts and wishes inside out,--more, can pierce futurity and tell me what _shall_ be. however, if my hearers continue to doubt my story, i can only repeat my admonition to try it for themselves. if they once succeed, they will not give it up again. chapter xxiv. spiritualism in america. i. _mrs. m. a. williams._ i went to america on a professional engagement in october, . some months beforehand a very liberal offer had been made me by the spiritualists of great britain to write my experiences for the english press, but i declined to do so until i could add my american notes to them. i had corresponded (as i have shown) with the _banner of light_ in new york; and what i had heard of spiritualism in america had made me curious to witness it. but i was determined to test it on a strictly private plan. i said to myself: "i have seen and heard pretty nearly all there is to be seen and heard on the subject in england, but, with one or two exceptions, i have never sat at any _séance_ where i was not known. now i am going to visit a strange country where, in a matter like spiritualism, i can conceal my identity, so as to afford the media no clue to my surroundings or the names of my deceased friends." i sailed for america quite determined to pursue a strictly secret investigation, and with that end in view i never mentioned the subject to anyone. i had a few days holiday in new york before proceeding to boston, where my work opened, and i stayed at one of the largest hotels in the city. i landed on sunday morning, and on monday evening i resolved to make my first venture. had i been a visitor in london, i should have had to search out the right sort of people, and make a dozen inquiries before i heard where the media were hiding themselves from dread of the law; but they order such things better on the other side of the atlantic. people are allowed to hold their private opinions and their private religion there without being swooped down upon and clapped into prison for rogues and vagabonds. whatever the views of the majority may be, upon this subject or any other (and heaven knows i would have each man strong enough to cling to his opinion, and brave enough to acknowledge it before the world), i think it is a discredit to a civilized country to allow old laws, that were made when we were little better than savages, to remain in force at the present day. we are far too much over-ridden by a paternal government, which has grown so blind and senile that it swallows camels while it is straining after a gnat. there was no obstacle to my wish, however, in new york. i had but to glance down the advertisement columns of the newspapers to learn where the media lived, and on what days they held their public _séances_. it so happened that mrs. m. a. williams was the only one who held open house on monday evenings for materialization; and thither i determined to go. there is no such privacy as in a large _hôtel_, where no one has the opportunity to see what his neighbor is doing. as soon, therefore, as my dinner was concluded, i put on a dark cloak, hat and veil, and walking out into the open, got into one of the cars that ran past the street where mrs. williams resided. arrived at the house, i knocked at the door, and was about to inquire if there was to be any _séance_ there, that evening, when the attendant saved me the trouble by saying, "upstairs, if you please, madam," and nothing more passed between us. when i had mounted the stairs, i found myself in a large room, the floor of which was covered with a thick carpet, nailed all round the wainscotting. on one side were some thirty or forty cane-bottomed chairs, and directly facing them was the cabinet. this consisted of four uprights nailed over the carpet, with iron rods connecting them at the top. there was no roof to it, but curtains of a dark maroon color were usually drawn around, but when i entered, they were flung back over the iron rods, so as to disclose the interior. there was a stuffed armchair for the use of the medium, and in front of the cabinet a narrow table with papers and pencils on it, the use of which i did not at first discover. at the third side of the room was a harmonium, so placed that the performer sat with his back both to the cabinet and the sitters. a large gas lamp, almost like a limelight, made in a square form like a lantern, was fixed against the wall, so as to throw the light upon the cabinet, but it was fitted with a sliding shade of red silk, with which it could be darkened if necessary. i was early, and only a few visitors were occupying the chairs. i asked a lady if i might sit where i chose, and on her answering "yes," i took the chair in the front row, exactly opposite the cabinet, not forgetting that i was there in the cause of spiritualism as well as for my own interests. the seats filled rapidly and there must have been thirty-five or forty people present, when mrs. williams entered the room, and nodding to those she knew, went into the cabinet. mrs. williams is a stout woman of middle age, with dark hair and eyes, and a fresh complexion. she was dressed in a tight-fitting gown of pale blue, with a good deal of lace about the neck and sleeves. she was accompanied by a gentleman, and i then discovered for the first time that it is usual in america to have, what they call, a "conductor" of the _séance_. the conductor sits close to the cabinet curtains, and, if any spirit is too weak to shew itself outside, or to speak audibly, he conveys the message it may wish to send to its friends; and when i knew how very few precautions the americans take to prevent such outrages as have occurred in england, and how many more materializations take place in an evening there than here, i saw the necessity of a conductor to protect the medium, and to regulate the order of the _séance_. mrs. williams' conductor opened the proceedings with a very neat little speech. he said, "i see several strange faces here this evening, and i am very pleased to see them, and i hope they may derive both pleasure and profit from our meeting. we have only one rule for the conduct of our _séances_, that you shall behave like ladies and gentlemen. you may not credit all you see, but remember this is our religion, and the religion of many present, and as you would behave yourselves reverently and decorously, if you were in a church of another persuasion to your own, so i beg of you to behave yourselves here. and if any spirits should come for you whom you do not immediately recognize, don't wound them by denying their identity. they may have been longing for this moment to meet you again, and doing their very utmost to assume once more the likeness they wore on earth; yet some fail. don't make their failure harder to bear by roughly repudiating all knowledge of them. the strangers who are present to-night may mistake the reason of this little table being placed in front of the cabinet, and think it is intended to keep them from too close an inspection of the spirits. no such thing! on the contrary, all will be invited in turn to come up and recognize their friends. but we make it a rule at these _séances_ that no materialized spirit, who is strong enough to come beyond that table, shall be permitted to return to the cabinet. they must dematerialize in sight of the sitters, that no possible suspicion may rest upon the medium. these pencils and papers are placed here in case any spirit who is unable to speak may be impressed to write instead. and now we will begin the evening with a song." the accompanist then played "footsteps of angels," the audience sung it with a will, and the curtains having been drawn round mrs. williams, the shade was drawn across the gaslight, and the _séance_ began. i don't think it could have been more than a minute or two before we heard a voice whispering, "father," and _three girls_, dressed in white clinging garments, appeared at the opening in the curtains. an old man with white hair left his seat and walked up to the cabinet, when they all three came out at once and hung about his neck and kissed him, and whispered to him. i almost forgot where i was. they looked so perfectly human, so joyous and girl-like, somewhere between seventeen and twenty, and they all spoke at once, so like what girls on earth would do, that it was most mystifying. the old man came back to his seat, wiping his eyes. "are those your daughters, sir?" asked one of the sitters. "yes! my three girls," he replied. "i lost them all before ten years old, but you see i've got them back again here." several other forms appeared after this--one, a little child of about three years old, who fluttered in and out of the cabinet like a butterfly, and ran laughing away from the sitters who tried to catch her. some of the meetings that took place for the first time were very affecting. one young man of about seventeen or eighteen, who was called up to see his mother's spirit, sobbed so bitterly, it broke my heart to hear him. there was not the least doubt if _he_ recognized her or no. he was so overcome, he hardly raised his eyes for the rest of the evening. one lady brought her spirit-son up to me, that i might see how perfectly he had materialized. she spoke of it as proudly as she might have done if he had passed some difficult examination. the young man was dressed in a suit of evening clothes, and he shook hands with me at his mother's bidding, with the firm grasp of a mortal. naturally, i had seen too much in england for all this to surprise me. still i had never assisted at a _séance_ where everything appeared to be so strangely human--so little mystical, except indeed the rule of dematerializing before the sitters, which i had only seen "katie king" do before. but here, each form, after having been warned by the conductor that its time was up, sunk down right through the carpet as though it were the most ordinary mode of egression. some, and more especially the men, did not advance beyond the curtains; then their friends were invited to go up and speak to them, and several went inside the cabinet. there were necessarily a good many forms, familiar to the rest, of whom i knew nothing; one was an old minister under whom they had all sat, another a gentleman who had been a constant attendant at mrs. williams' _séances_. once the conductor spoke to me. "i am not aware of your name," he said (and i thought, "no! my friend, and you won't be aware of it just yet either!"), "but a spirit here wishes you would come up to the cabinet." i advanced, expecting to see some friend, and there stood a catholic priest with his hand extended in blessing. i knelt down, and he gave me the usual benediction and then closed the curtains. "did you know the spirit?" the conductor asked me. i shook my head; and he continued, "he was father hayes, a well-known priest in this city. i suppose you are a catholic?" i told him "yes," and went back to my seat. the conductor addressed me again. "i think father hayes must have come to pave the way for some of your friends," he said. "here is a spirit who says she has come for a lady named 'florence,' who has just crossed the sea. do you answer to the description?" i was about to say "yes," when the curtains parted again and my daughter "florence" ran across the room and fell into my arms. "mother!" she exclaimed, "i said i would come with you and look after you--didn't i?" i looked at her. she was exactly the same in appearance as when she had come to me in england--the same luxuriant brown hair and features and figure, as i had seen under the different mediumships of florence cook, arthur colman, charles williams and william eglinton; the same form which in england had been declared to be half-a-dozen different media dressed up to represent my daughter stood before me there in new york, thousands of miles across the sea, and by the power of a person who did not even know who i was. if i had not been convinced before, how could i have helped being convinced then? "florence" appeared as delighted as i was, and kept on kissing me and talking of what had happened to me on board ship coming over, and was evidently quite _au fait_ of all my proceedings. presently she said, "there's another friend of yours here, mother! we came over together. i'll go and fetch him." she was going back to the cabinet when the conductor stopped her. "you must not return this way, please. any other you like," and she immediately made a kind of court curtsey and went down through the carpet. i was standing where "florence" had left me, wondering what would happen next, when she came _up again_ a few feet off from me, head first, and smiling as if she had discovered a new game. she was allowed to enter the cabinet this time, but a moment afterwards she popped her head out again, and said, "here's your friend, mother!" and by her side was standing william eglinton's control, "joey," clad in his white suit, with a white cap drawn over his head. "'florence' and i have come over to make new lines for you here," he said: "at least, i've come over to put her in the way of doing it, but i can't stay long, you know, because i have to go back to 'willy.'" i really didn't care if he stayed long or not. i seemed to have procured the last proof i needed of the truth of the doctrine i had held so long, that there is no such thing as death, as we understand it in this world. here were the two spiritual beings (for believing in the identity of whom i had called myself a credulous fool fifty times over, only to believe in them more deeply still) in _prôpria personæ_ in new york, claiming me in a land of strangers, who had not yet found out who i was. i was more deeply affected than i had ever been under such circumstances before, and more deeply thankful. "florence" made great friends with our american cousins even on her first appearance. mrs. williams' conductor told me he thought he had never heard anything more beautiful than the idea of the spirit-child crossing the ocean to guard its mother in a strange country, and particularly, as he could feel by her influence, what a pure and beautiful spirit she was. when i told him she had left this world at ten days old, he said that accounted for it, but he could see there was nothing earthly about her. i was delighted with this _séance_, and hoped to sit with mrs. williams many times more, but fate decreed that i should leave new york sooner than i had anticipated. the perfect freedom with which it was conducted charmed me, and the spirits seemed so familiar with the sitters. there was no "sweet spirit, hear my prayer," business about it. no fear of being detained or handled among the spirits, and no awe, only intense tenderness on the part of their relations. it was to this cause i chiefly attributed the large number of materializations i witnessed--_forty_ having taken place that evening. they spoke far more distinctly and audibly too than those i had seen in england, but i believe the dry atmosphere of the united states is far more favorable to the process of materialization. i perceived another difference. although the female spirits were mostly clad in white, they wore dresses and not simply drapery, whilst the men were invariably attired in the clothes (or semblances of the clothes) they would have worn had they been still on earth. i left mrs. williams' rooms, determined to see as much as i possibly could of mediumship whilst i was in the united states. chapter xxv. ii. _mrs. eva hatch._ i was so disappointed at being hurried off to boston before i had seen any more of the new york media, that i took the earliest opportunity of attending a _séance_ there. a few words i had heard dropped about eva hatch made me resolve to visit her first. she was one of the shaker sect, and i heard her spoken of as a remarkably pure and honest woman, and most reliable medium. her first appearance quite gave me that impression. she had a fair, placid countenance, full of sweetness and serenity, and a plump matronly figure. i went incognita, as i had done to mrs. williams, and mingled unnoticed with the crowd. mrs. hatch's cabinet was quite different from mrs. williams'. it was built of planks like a little cottage, and the roof was pierced with numerous round holes for ventilation, like a pepper-box. there was a door in the centre, with a window on either side, all three of which were shaded by dark curtains. the windows, i was told, were for the accommodation of those spirits who had not the power to materialize more than a face, or head and bust. mrs. hatch's conductor was a woman, who sat near the cabinet, as in the other case. mrs. eva hatch had not entered the cabinet five minutes before she came out again, under trance, with a very old lady with silver hair clinging to her arm, and walked round the circle. as they did so, the old lady extended her withered hand, and blessed the sitters. she came quite close to each one and was distinctly visible to all. i was told that this was the spirit of mrs. hatch's mother, and that it was her regular custom to come first and give her blessing to the _séance_. i had never seen the spirit of an aged person before, and it was a beautiful sight. she was the sweetest old lady too, very small and fragile looking, and half reclining on her daughter's bosom, but smiling serenely upon every one there. when they had made the tour of the room, mrs. hatch re-entered the cabinet, and did not leave it again until the sitting was concluded. there were a great many sitters present, most of whom were old patrons of mrs. hatch, and so, naturally, their friends came for them first. it is surprising though, when once familiarized with materialization, how little one grows to care to see the spirits who come for one's next door neighbor. they are like a lot of prisoners let out, one by one, to see their friends and relations. the few moments they have to spare are entirely devoted to home matters of no possible interest to the bystander. the first wonder and possible shock at seeing the supposed dead return in their old likeness to greet those they left on earth over, one listens with languid indifference, and perhaps a little impatience for one's own turn to come, to the whispered utterances of strangers. mrs. hatch's "cabinet spirits" or "controls," however, were very interesting. one, who called herself the "spirit of prayer," came and knelt down in the middle of the circle, and prayed with us. she had asked for the gas to be extinguished first, and as she prayed she became illuminated with flashes of light, in the shape of stars and crosses, until she was visible from head to foot, and we could see her features and dress as if she had been surrounded by electricity. two more cabinet spirits were a negro and negress, who appeared together, chanting some of their native hymns and melodies. when i saw these apparitions, i thought to myself: "here is a good opportunity to discover trickery, if trickery there is." the pair were undoubtedly of the negro race. there was no mistaking their thick lips and noses and yellow-white eyes, nor their polished brown skins, which no charcoal can properly imitate. they were negroes without doubt; but how about the negro bouquet? everyone who has mixed with colored people in the east or the west knows what that is, though it is very difficult to describe, being something like warm rancid oil mingled with the fumes of charcoal, with a little worse thrown in. "now," i thought, "if these forms are human, there will be some odor attached to them, and that i am determined to find out." i caught, therefore, at the dress of the young woman as she passed, and asked her if she would kiss me. she left her companion directly, and put her arms (which were bare) round my neck, and embraced me several times; and i can declare, on my oath, that she was as completely free from anything like the smell of a colored woman as it was possible for her to be. she felt as fresh and sweet and pure as a little child. many other forms appeared and were recognized by the circle, notably a very handsome one who called herself the empress josephine; but as they could not add a grain's weight to my testimony i pass them over. i had begun to think that "florence" was not going to visit me that evening, when the conductor of the _séance_ asked if there was anybody in the room who answered to the name of "bluebell." i must indulge in a little retrospect here, and tell my readers that ten years previous to the time i am writing of, i had lost my brother-in-law, edward church, under very painful circumstances. he had been left an orphan and in control of his fortune at a very early age, and had lived with my husband, colonel ross-church, and myself. but poor "ted" had been his own worst enemy. he had possessed a most generous heart and affectionate disposition, but these had led him into extravagances that swallowed up his fortune, and then he had taken to drinking and killed himself by it. i and my children had loved him dearly, but all our prayers and entreaties had had no avail, and in the end he had become so bad that the doctors had insisted upon our separation. poor "ted" had consequently died in exile, and this had been a further aggravation of our grief. for ten years i had been trying to procure communication with him in vain, and i had quite given up expecting to see him again. only once had i heard "bluebell" (his pet name for me) gasped out by an entranced clairvoyant, but nothing further had come of it. now, as i heard it for the second time, from a stranger's lips in a foreign country, it naturally roused my expectations, but i thought it might be only a message for me from "ted." "is there anyone here who recognizes the name of 'bluebell'?" repeated the conductor. "i was once called so by a friend," i said. "someone is asking for that name. you had better come up to the cabinet," she replied. i rose at once and did as she told me, but when i reached the curtain i encountered "florence." "my darling child," i said, as i embraced her, "why did you ask for 'bluebell'?" she did not answer me, except by shaking her head, placing her finger on her lips, and pointing downwards to the carpet. i did not know what to make of it. i had never known her unable to articulate before. "what is the matter, dear?" i said; "can't you speak to me to-night?" still she shook her head, and tapped my arm with her hand, to attract my attention to the fact that she was pointing vigorously downwards. i looked down, too, when, to my astonishment, i saw rise through the carpet what looked to me like the bald head of a baby or an old man, and a little figure, _not more than three feet in height_, with edward church's features, but no hair on its head, came gradually into view, and looked up in my face with a pitiful, deprecating expression, as if he were afraid i should strike him. the face, however, was so unmistakably ted's, though the figure was so ludicrously insignificant, that i could not fail to recognize him. "why, ted!" i exclaimed, "have you come back to see me at last?" and held out my hand. the little figure seized it, tried to convey it to his lips, burst into tears, and sank down through the carpet much more rapidly than he had come up. i began to cry too. it was so pitiful. with her uncle's disappearance "florence" found her tongue. "don't cry, mother," she said; "poor uncle ted is overcome at seeing you. that's why he couldn't materialize better. he was in such a terrible hurry. he'll look more like himself next time. i was trying so hard to help him, i didn't dare to use up any of the power by speaking. he'll be so much better, now he's seen you. you'll come here again, won't you?" i told her i certainly would, if i could; and, indeed, i was all anxiety to see my poor brother-in-law again. to prove how difficult it would have been to deceive me on this subject, i should like to say a little about edward church's personal appearance. he was a very remarkable looking man--indeed, i have never seen anyone a bit like him before or after. he was very small; not short only, but small altogether, with tiny hands and feet, and a little head. his hair and eyes were of the deepest black--the former parted in the middle, with a curl on either side, and was naturally waved. his complexion was very dark, his features delicate, and he wore a small pointed moustache. as a child he had suffered from an attack of confluent small-pox, which had deeply pitted his face, and almost eaten away the tip of his nose. such a man was not to be easily imitated, even if anyone in boston had ever heard of his inconsequential existence. to me, though, he had been a dear friend and brother, before the curse of drink had seemed to change his nature, and i had always been anxious to hear how he fared in that strange country whither he had been forced to journey, like all of us, _alone_. i was very pleased then to find that business would not interfere with my second visit to mrs. eva hatch, which took place two nights afterward. on this occasion "florence" was one of the first to appear, and "ted" came with her, rather weak and trembling on his second introduction to this mundane sphere, but no longer bald-headed nor under-sized. he was his full height now, about five feet seven; his head was covered with his black crisp hair, parted just as he used to wear it while on earth; in every particular he resembled what he used to be, even down to his clothes. i could have sworn i had seen that very suit of clothes; the little cut-away coat he always wore, with the natty tie and collar, and a dark blue velvet smoking cap upon his head, exactly like one i remembered being in his possession. "florence" still seemed to be acting as his interpreter and guide. when i said to him, "why! ted, you look quite like your old self to-day," she answered, "he can't talk to you, mamma, he is weak still, and he is so thankful to meet you again. he wants me to tell you that he has been trying to communicate with you often, but he never could manage it in england. he will be so glad when he can talk freely to you." whilst she was speaking, "ted" kept on looking from her to me like a deaf and dumb animal trying to understand what was going on in a manner that was truly pitiful. i stooped down and kissed his forehead. the touch seemed to break the spell that hung over him. "_forgive_," he uttered in a choked voice. "there is nothing to forgive, dear," i replied, "except as we all have need to forgive each other. you know how we all loved you, ted, and we loved you to the last and grieved for you deeply. you remember the children, and how fond you were of them and they of you. they often speak to this day of their poor uncle ted." "eva--ethel," he gasped out, naming my two elder children. at this juncture he seemed suddenly to fail, and became so weak that "florence" took him back into the cabinet again. no more spirits came for me that evening, but towards the close of the _séance_ "florence" and "ted" appeared again together and embraced me fondly. "florence" said, "he's so happy now, mother; he says he shall rest in peace now that he knows that you have forgiven him. and he won't come without his hair again," she added, laughing. "i hope he won't," i answered, "for he frightened me." and then they both kissed me "good-night," and retreated to the cabinet, and i looked after them longingly and wished i could go there too. chapter xxvi. iii. _the misses berry._ no one introduced me to the misses berry. i saw their advertisement in the public papers and went incognita to their _séance_, as i had done to those of others. the first thing that struck me about them was the superior class of patrons whom they drew. in the ladies' cloak room, where they left their heavy wraps and umbrellas, the conversation that took place made this sufficiently evident. helen and gertrude berry were pretty, unaffected, lady-like girls; and their conductor, mr. abrow, one of the most courteous gentlemen i have ever met. the sisters, both highly mediumistic, never sat together, but on alternate nights, but the one who did _not_ sit always took a place in the audience, in order to prevent suspicion attaching to her absence. gertrude berry had been lately married to a mr. thompson, and on account of her health gave up her _séances_, soon after i made her acquaintance she was a tall, finely-formed young woman, with golden hair and a beautiful complexion. her sister helen was smaller, paler and more slightly built. she had been engaged to be married to a gentleman who died shortly before the time fixed for their wedding, and his spirit, whom she called "charley," was the principal control at her _séances_, though he never showed himself. i found the _séance_ room, which was not very large, crammed with chairs which had all been engaged beforehand, so mr. abrow fetched one from downstairs and placed it next his own for me, which was the very position i should have chosen. i asked him afterwards how he dared admit a stranger to such close proximity, and he replied that he was a medium himself and knew who he could and who he could _not_ trust at a glance. as my professional duties took me backwards and forwards to boston, which was my central starting-point, sometimes giving me only a day's rest there, i was in the habit afterwards, when i found i should have "a night off," of wiring to mr. abrow to keep me a seat, so difficult was it to secure one unless it were bespoken. altogether i sat five or six times with the berry sisters, and wished i could have sat fifty or sixty times instead, for i never enjoyed any _séances_ so _much_ in my life before. the cabinet was formed of an inner room with a separate door, which had to undergo the process of being sealed up by a committee of strangers every evening. strips of gummed paper were provided for them, on which they wrote their names before affixing them across the inside opening of the door. on the first night i inspected the cabinet also as a matter of principle, and gummed my paper with "mrs. richardson" written on it across the door. the cabinet contained only a sofa for miss helen berry to recline upon. the floor was covered with a nailed-down carpet. the door which led into the cabinet was shaded by two dark curtains hung with rings upon a brass rod. the door of the _séance_ room was situated at a right angle with that of the cabinet, both opening upon a square landing, and, to make "assurance doubly sure," the door of the _séance_ room was left open, so that the eyes of the sitters at that end commanded a view, during the entire sitting, of the outside of the locked and gummed-over cabinet door. to make this fully understood, i append a diagram of the two rooms-- [illustration] by the position of these doors, it will be seen how impossible it would have been for anybody to leave or enter the cabinet without being detected by the sitters, who had their faces turned towards the _séance_ room door. the first materialization that appeared that evening was a bride, dressed in her bridal costume; and a gentleman, who was occupying a chair in the front row, and holding a white flower in his hand, immediately rose, went up to her, embraced her, and whispered a few words, then gave her the white flower, which she fastened in the bosom of her dress, after which he bowed slightly to the company, and, instead of resuming his seat, left the room. mr. abrow then said to me, "if you like, madam, you can take that seat now," and as the scene had excited my curiosity i accepted his offer, hoping to find some one to tell me the meaning of it. i found myself next to a very sweet-looking lady, whom i afterwards knew personally as mrs. seymour. "can you tell me why that gentleman left so suddenly?" i asked her in a whisper. "he seldom stays through a _séance_," she replied; "he is a business man, and has no time to spare, but he is here every night. the lady you saw him speak to is his wife. she died on her wedding day, eleven years ago, and he has never failed to meet her on every opportunity since. he brings her a white flower every time he comes. she appears always first, in order that he may be able to return to his work." this story struck me as very interesting, and i always watched for this gentleman afterwards, and never failed to see him waiting for his bride, with the white flower in his hand. "do you expect to see any friends to-night?" i said to my new acquaintance. "o! yes!" she replied. "i have come to see my daughter 'bell.' she died some years ago, and i am bringing up the two little children she left behind her. i never do anything for them without consulting their mother. just now i have to change their nurse, and i have received several excellent characters of others, and i have brought them here this evening that 'bell' may tell me which to write for. i have the pattern for the children's winter frocks, too," she continued, producing some squares of woolen cloths, "and i always like to let 'bell' choose which she likes best." this will give my readers some idea of how much more the american spiritualists regard their departed friends as still forming part of the home circle, and interested in their domestic affairs. "bell" soon after made her appearance, and mrs. seymour brought her up to me. she was a young woman of about three or four and twenty, and looked very happy and smiling. she perused the servants' characters as practically as her mother might have done, but said she would have none of them, and mrs. seymour was to wait till she received some more. the right one had not come yet. she also looked at the patterns, and indicated the one she liked best. then, as she was about to retire, she whispered to her mother, and mrs. seymour said, to my surprise (for it must be remembered i had not disclosed my name to her), "bell tells me she knows a daughter of yours in the spirit life, called 'florence.' is that the case?" i answered i had a daughter of that name; and mrs. seymour added "'bell' says she will be here this evening, that she is a very pure and very elevated spirit, and they are great friends." very shortly after this, mr. abrow remarked, "there is a young girl in the cabinet now, who says that if her mother's name is 'mrs. richardson,' she must have married for the third time since she saw her last, for she was 'mrs. lean' then." at this remark i laughed; and mr. abrow said, "is she come for you, madam? does the cap fit?" i was obliged to acknowledge then that i _had_ given a false name in order to avoid recognition. but the mention of my married name attracted no attention to me, and was only a proof that it had not been given from any previous knowledge of mr. abrow's concerning myself. i was known in the united states as "florence marryat" only, and to this day they believe me to be still "mrs. ross-church," that being the name under which my first novels were written. so i recognized "florence" at once in the trick that had been played me, and had risen to approach the curtain, when she came _bounding_ out and ran into my arms. i don't think i had ever seen her look so charming and girlish before. she looked like an embodiment of sunshine. she was dressed in a low frock which seemed manufactured of lace and muslin, her hair fell loose down her back to her knees, and her hands were full of damask roses. this was in december, when hot-house roses were selling for a dollar a piece in boston, and she held, perhaps, twenty. their scent was delicious, and she kept thrusting them under my nose, saying, "smell my roses, mother. don't you wish you had my garden? we have _fields_ of them in the summer land! o! how i wish you were there." "shan't i come soon, darling?" i said. "no! not yet," replied "florence." "you have a lot of work to do still. but when you come, it will be all flowers for you and me." i asked her if she knew "bell," and she said, "o! yes! we came together this evening." then i asked her to come and speak to "bell's" mother, and her manner changed at once. she became shy and timid, like a young girl, unused to strangers, and quite hung on my arm, as i took her up to mrs. seymour's side. when she had spoken a few words to her in a very low voice, she turned to me and said, "i must go now, because we have a great surprise for you this evening--a _very_ great surprise." i told her i liked great surprises, when they were pleasant ones, and "florence" laughed, and went away. i found that her _début_ had created such a sensation amongst the sitters--it being so unusual for a materialized spirit to appear so strong and perfect on the first occasion of using a medium--that i felt compelled to give them a little explanation on the subject. and when i told them how i had lost her as a tiny infant of ten days old--how she had returned to me through various media in england, and given such unmistakable proofs of her _identity_--and how i, being a stranger in their country, and only landed there a few weeks, had already met her through mrs. williams, mrs. hatch and miss berry--they said it was one of the most wonderful and perfect instances of materialization they had ever heard of. and when one considers how perfect the chain is, from the time when "florence" first came back to me as a child, too weak to speak, or even to understand where she was, to the years through which she had grown and became strong almost beneath my eyes, till she could "_bound_" (as i have narrated) into my arms like a human being, and talk as distinctly as (and far more sensible than) i did myself, i think my readers will acknowledge also, that hers is no common story, and that i have some reason to believe in spiritualism. miss berry's cabinet spirits were quite different from the common type. one was, or rather had been, a dancing girl--not european, but rather more, i fancy, of the asiatic or egyptian type. anyway she used to come out of the cabinet--a lithe lissom creature like a panther or a snake--and execute such twists and bounds and pirouettes, as would have made her fortune on the stage. indeed i used to think (being always on the lookout for chicanery) that no _human_ creature who could dance as she did would ever waste her talents, especially in a smart country like america, on an audience of spiritualists, whose only motive for meeting was to see their friends, and who would not pay an extra cent to look at a "cabinet spirit." another one was an indian whom they called "the brave." he was also a lithe, active creature, without an ounce of superfluous flesh upon his body, but plenty of muscle. he appeared to like the ladies of the company very much, but evidently distrusted the men. one stout, big man who was, i fancy, a bit of a sceptic, wished to test the "brave's" muscular power by feeling his biceps, and was invited to step in front of the circle for that purpose. he had no sooner approached him than the indian seized him up in his arms and threw him _right over his head_. he did not hurt him, but as the gentleman got up again, he said, "well! i weigh pounds, and i didn't think any man in the room could have done that." the ladies in the circle mostly wore flowers in their bosom--bouquets, after the custom of american ladies--and they began, one and all, to detach flowers from their bouquets and give them to the "brave," "to give to his squaw." he nodded and gabbled some unintelligible sioux or cherokee in reply, and went all round the circle on his knees. the stout man had surmised that he was painted, and his long, straight, black hair was a wig. when he came to me i said, "brave! may i try if your hair is a wig?" he nodded and said, "pull--pull!" which i did, and found that it undoubtedly grew on his head. then he took my finger and drew it across his face several times to show he was not painted. i had no flowers to present him with, so i said, "come here, brave, and i'll give you something for your squaw," and when he approached near enough i kissed him. he chuckled, and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he ran chatting in his native dialect behind the curtains. in another minute he dashed out again, and coming up to me ejaculated, "no--give--squaw!" and rushed back. mr. abrow laughed heartily at this incident, and so did all the sitters, the former declaring i had entirely captivated the "brave." presently the cabinet curtains were shaken, and after a pause they parted slowly, and the figure of an indian squaw crept out. anything more malignant and vicious than her look i have seldom seen. mr. abrow asked her _who_ she wanted and _what_ she wanted, but she would not speak. she stood there silent, but scowling at me from beneath the tangles of her long black hair. at last mr. abrow said to her, "if you don't want to speak to anyone in the circle you must go away, as you are only preventing other spirits from coming." the squaw backed behind the curtains again rather sulkily, but the next time the "brave" appeared she came with him, and _never_ did he come again in my presence but what his "squaw" stood at the curtains and watched his actions. mrs. abrow told me that the "brave" had been in the habit of manifesting at their _séances_ for years, but that they had never seen the "squaw" until that evening. indeed, i don't think they were very grateful to me for having by my rashness eliminated this new feature in their evening's entertainment, for the "squaw" proved to be a very earthly and undeveloped spirit, and subsequently gave them some trouble, as they could not drive her away when they wanted to do so. towards the close of the evening mr. abrow said, "there is a spirit here now who is very anxious to show himself, but it is the first time he has ever attempted to fully materialize, and he is not at all certain of success. he tells me there is a lady in the circle who has newly arrived in america, and that this lady years ago sang a song by his dying bed in india. if she will step up to the cabinet now and sing that song again he will try and shew himself to her." such of my readers as have perused "the story of john powles" will recognize at once who this was. i did, of course, and i confess that as i rose to approach the cabinet i trembled like an aspen leaf. i had tried so often, and failed so often to see this dear old friend of mine, that to think of meeting him now was like a veritable resurrection from the dead. think of it! we had parted in , and this was --twenty-four years afterwards. i had been a girl when we said "good-bye," and he went forth on that journey which seemed then so mysterious an one to me. i was a middle-aged woman now, who had passed through so much from which _he_ had been saved, that i felt more like his mother than his friend. of all my experiences this was to me really the most solemn and interesting. i hardly expected to see more than his face, but i walked up to the cabinet and commenced to sing in a very shaky voice the first stanza of the old song he was so fond of:-- "thou art gone from my gaze like a beautiful dream, and i seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream; oft i breathe thy dear name to the winds passing by, but thy sweet voice is mute to my bosom's lone sigh. in the stillness of night when the stars mildly shine, o! then oft my heart holds communion with thine, for i feel thou art near, and where'er i may be, that the spirit of love keeps a watch over me." i had scarcely reached the finish of these lines when both the curtains of the cabinet were drawn apart so sharply that the brass rings rattled on the rod, and john powles stood before me. not a face, nor a half-formed figure, nor an apparition that was afraid to pass into the light--but _john powles himself_, stalwart and living, who stepped out briskly and took me in his arms and kissed me four or five times, as a long-parted brother might have done; and strange to say, i didn't feel the least surprised at it, but clung to him like a sister. for john powles had never once kissed me during his lifetime. although we had lived for four years in the closest intimacy, often under the same roof, we had never indulged in any familiarities. i think men and women were not so lax in their manners then as they are now; at anyrate, the only time i had ever kissed him was when he lay dead, and my husband had told me to do so. and yet it seemed quite natural on meeting him again to kiss him and cry over him. at last i ventured to say, "o, powles! is this really you?" "look at me and see for yourself," he answered. i looked up. it was indeed himself. he had possessed _very_ blue eyes in earth life, good features, a florid complexion, auburn hair, and quite a golden beard and moustache. the eyes and hair and features were just the same, only his complexion was paler, and he wore no beard. "o!" i exclaimed, "where is your beard?" "don't you remember i cut it off just before i left this world?" he said; and then i recalled the fact that he had done so owing to a government order on the subject. and bearing on this question i may mention what seems a curious thing--that spirits almost invariably return to earth the first time _just as they left it_, as though their thoughts at the moment of parting clothed them on their return. this, however, was not john powles' first _attempt_ at materialization, although it was his first success, for it may be remembered he tried to show himself through miss showers, and then he _had_ a beard. however, when i saw him through miss berry, he had none, nor did he resume it during my stay in america. when we had got over the excitement of meeting, he began to speak to me of my children, especially of the three who were born before his death, and of whom he had been very fond. he spoke of them all by name, and seemed quite interested in their prospects and affairs. but when i began to speak of other things he stopped me. "i know it all," he said, "i have been with you in spirit through all your trials, and i can never feel the slightest interest in, or affection for, those who caused them. my poor friend, you have indeed had your purgatory upon earth." "but tell me of yourself, dear powles! are you quite happy?" i asked him. he paused a moment and then replied, "quite happy, waiting for you." "surely you are not suffering still?" i said, "after all these years?" "my dear florence," he answered, "it takes more than a few years to expiate a life of sin. but i am happier than i was, and every year the burden is lighter, and coming back to you will help me so much." as he was speaking to me the curtain opened again, and there stood my brother-in-law, edward church, not looking down-spirited and miserable, as he had done at mrs. eva hatch's, but bright and smiling, and dressed in evening clothes, as also i perceived, when i had time to think of it, was john powles. i didn't know which to talk to first, but kept turning from one to the other in a dazed manner. john powles was telling me that _he_ was preparing my house for me in the summer land, and would come to take me over to it when i died, when "ted" interrupted him. "that ought to have been _my_ work, bluebell," he said, "only powles had anticipated me." "i wish i could go back with you both at once, i am sick of this world," i replied. "ted" threw his arms round me and strained me to his breast. "o! it is so hard to part again. how i wish i could carry you away in my arms to the summer land! i should have nothing left to wish for then." "you don't want to come back then, ted?" i asked him. "_want to come back_," he said with a shudder; "not for anything! why, bluebell, death is like an operation which you must inevitably undergo, but which you fear because you know so little about it. well, with me _the operation's over_. i know the worst, and every day makes the term of punishment shorter. i am _thankful_ i left the earth so soon." "you look just like your old self, ted," i said; "the same little curls and scrubby little moustache." "pull them," he answered gaily. "don't go away, bluebell, and say they were false and i was miss berry dressed up. feel my biceps," he continued, throwing up his arm as men do, "and feel my heart," placing my hand above it, "feel how it is beating for my sister bluebell." i said to john powles, "i hardly know you in evening costume. i never saw you in it before" (which was true, as all our acquaintance had taken place in india, where the officers are never allowed to appear in anything but uniform, especially in the evenings). "i wish," i continued, "that you would come next time in uniform." "i will try," he replied, and then their time was up for that occasion, and they were obliged to go. a comical thing occurred on my second visit to the berrys. of course i was all eagerness to see my brother-in-law and "powles" again, and when i was called up to the cabinet and saw a slim, dark, young man standing there, i took him at once for "ted," and, without looking at him, was just about to kiss him, when he drew backwards and said, "i am not 'edward!' i am his friend 'joseph,' to whom he has given permission to make your acquaintance." i then perceived that "joseph" was very different from "ted," taller and better looking, with a jewish cast of countenance. i stammered and apologized, and felt as awkward as if i had nearly kissed a mortal man by mistake. "joseph" smiled as if it were of very little consequence. he said he had never met "ted" on earth, but they were close friends in the spirit world, and "ted" had talked so much to him of me, that he had become very anxious to see me, and speak to me. he was a very elegant looking young man, but he did not seem to have very much to say for himself, and he gave me the impression that he had been a "masher" whilst here below, and had not quite shaken off the remembrance in the spirit world. there was one spirit who often made her appearance at these sittings and greatly interested me. this was a mother with her infant of a few weeks old. the lady was sweet and gentle looking, but it was the baby that so impressed me--a baby that never whined nor squalled, nor turned red in the face, and yet was made of neither wax nor wood, but was palpably living and breathing. i used always to go up to the cabinet when this spirit came, and ask her to let me feel the little baby. it was a tiny creature, with a waxen-looking face, and she always carried it enveloped in a full net veil, yet when i touched its hand, the little fingers tightened round mine in baby fashion, as it tried to convey them to its mouth. i had seen several spirit children materialized before, but never such a young infant as this. the mother told me she had passed away in child-birth, and the baby had gone with her. she had been a friend of the misses berry, and came to them for that reason. on christmas eve i happened to be in boston, and disengaged, and as i found it was a custom of the american spiritualists to hold meetings on that anniversary for the purpose of seeing their spirit friends, i engaged a seat for the occasion. i arrived some time before the _séance_ commenced, and next to me was seated a gentleman, rather roughly dressed, who was eyeing everything about him with the greatest attention. presently he turned to me and said, rather sheepishly, "do you believe in this sort of thing?" "i do," i replied, "and i have believed in it for the last fifteen years." "have you ever seen anybody whom you recognized?" he continued. "plenty," i said. then he edged a little nearer to me, and lowered his voice. "do you know," he commenced, "that i have ridden on horseback forty miles through the snow to-day to be present at this meeting, because my old mother sent me a message that she would meet me here! i don't believe in it, you know. i've never been at a _séance_ before, and i feel as if i was making a great fool of myself now, but i couldn't neglect my poor old mother's message, whatever came of it." "of course not," i answered, "and i hope your trouble will be rewarded." i had not much faith in my own words, though, because i had seen people disappointed again and again over their first _séance_, from either the spirits of their friends being too weak to materialize, or from too many trying to draw power at once, and so neutralizing the effect on all. my bridegroom friend was all ready on that occasion with his white flowers in his hand and i ventured to address him and tell him how very beautiful i considered his wife's fidelity and his own. he seemed pleased at my notice, and began to talk quite freely about her. he told me she had returned to him before her body was buried, and had been with him ever since. "she is so really and truly _my wife_," he said, "as i received her at the altar, that i could no more marry again than i could if she were living in my house." when the _séance_ commenced she appeared first as usual, and her husband brought her up to my side. "this is miss florence marryat, dear," he said (for by this time i had laid aside my _incognita_ with the berrys). "you know her name, don't you?" "o! yes," she answered, as she gave me her hand, "i know you quite well. i used to read your books." her face was covered with her bridal veil, and her husband turned it back that i might see her. she was a very pretty girl of perhaps twenty--quite a gipsy, with large dark eyes and dark curling hair, and a brown complexion. "she has not altered one bit since the day we were married," said her husband, looking fondly at her, "whilst i have grown into an old man." she put up her hand and stroked his cheek. "we shall be young together some day," she said. then he asked her if she was not going to kiss me, and she held up her face to mine like a child, and he dropped the veil over her again and led her away. the very next spirit that appeared was my rough friend's mother, and his astonishment and emotion at seeing her were very unmistakeable. when first he went up to the cabinet and saw her his head drooped, and his shoulders shook with the sobs he could not repress. after a while he became calmer, and talked to her, and then i saw him also bringing her up to me. "i must bring my mother to you," he said, "that you may see she has really come back to me." i rose, and the old lady shook hands with me. she must have been, at the least, seventy years old, and was a most perfect specimen of old age. her face was like wax, and her hair like silver; but every wrinkle was distinct, and her hands were lined with blue veins. she had lost her teeth, and mumbled somewhat in speaking, and her son said, "she is afraid you will not understand what she says; but she wants you to know that she will be quite happy if her return will make me believe in a future existence." "and will it?" i asked. he looked at his mother. "i don't understand it," he replied. "it seems too marvellous to be true; but how _can_ i disbelieve it, when _here she is_?" and his words were so much the echo of my own grounds for belief, that i quite sympathized with them. "john powles," and "ted," and "florence," all came to see me that evening; and when i bid "florence" "good-bye" she said, "oh, it isn't 'good-bye' yet, mother! i'm coming again, before you go." presently something that was the very farthest thing from my mind--that had, indeed, never entered it--happened to me. i was told that a young lady wanted to speak to me, and on going up to the cabinet i recognized a girl whom _i knew by sight, but had never spoken to_--one of a large family of children, living in the same terrace in london as myself, and who had died of malignant scarlet fever about a year before. "mrs. lean," she said, hurriedly, noting my surprise, "don't you know me? i am may ----." "yes, i do recognize you, my dear child," i replied; "but what makes you come to me?" "minnie and katie are so unhappy about me," she said. "they do not understand. they think i have gone away. they do not know what death is--that it is only like going into the next room, and shutting the door." "and what can i do, may?" i asked her. "tell them you have seen me, mrs. lean. say i am alive--more alive than they are; that if they sit for me, i will come to them and tell them so much they know nothing of now." "but where are your sisters?" i said. she looked puzzled. "i don't know. i can't say the place; but you will meet them soon, and you will tell them." "if i meet them, i certainly will tell them," i said; but i had not the least idea at that moment where the other girls might be. four months later, however, when i was staying in london, ontario, they burst unexpectedly into my hotel room, having driven over (i forget how many miles) to see me play. naturally i kept my promise; but though they cried when "may" was alluded to, they evidently could not believe my story of having seen her, and so, i suppose, the poor little girl's wish remains ungratified. i think the worst purgatory in the next world must be to find how comfortably our friends get on without us in this. as a rule, i did not take much interest in the spirits that did not come for me; but there was one who appeared several times with the berrys, and seemed quite like an old friend to me. this was "john brown," not her majesty's "john brown," but the hero of the song-- "hang john brown on a sour apple tree, but his soul goes touting around. glory! glory! halleluia! for his soul goes touting around." when i used to hear this song sung with much shouting and some profanity in england, i imagined (and i fancy most people did) that it was a comic song in america. but it was no such thing. it was a patriotic song, and the motive is (however comically put) to give glory to god, that, _although_ they may hang "john brown" on a sour apple tree, his soul will yet "go touting around." so, rightly or wrongly, it was explained to me. "john brown" is a patriotic hero in america, and when he appeared, the whole room crowded round to see him. he was a short man, with a _singularly_ benevolent countenance, iron grey hair, mutton-chop whiskers, and deep china blue eyes. a kind of man, as he appeared to me, made for deeds of love rather than heroism, but from all accounts he was both kind and heroic. a gentleman present on christmas eve pushed forward eagerly to see the materialization, and called out, "aye! that's him--that's my old friend--that's 'john brown'--the best man that ever trod this earth." before this evening's _séance_ was concluded mr. abrow said, "there is a little lady in the cabinet at present who announces herself as a very high personage. she says she is the 'princess gertrude.'" "_what_ did you say, mr. abrow?" i exclaimed, unable to believe my own ears. "'the princess gertie,' mother," said "florence," popping her head out of the curtains. "you've met her before in england, you know." i went up to the cabinet, the curtains divided, there stood my daughter "florence" as usual, but holding in front of her a little child of about seven years old. i knelt down before this spirit of my own creation. she was a fragile-looking little creature, very fair and pale, with large grey eyes and brown hair lying over her forehead. she looked like a lily with her little white hands folded meekly in front of her. "are you my little gertie, darling?" i said. "i am the 'princess gertie,'" she replied, "and 'florence' says you are my mother." "and are you glad to see me, gertie?" i asked. she looked up at her sister, who immediately prompted her. "say, 'yes, mother,' gertie." "yes! mother," repeated the little one, like a parrot. "will you come to me, darling?" i said. "may i take you in my arms?" "not this evening, mother," whispered 'florence,' "you couldn't. she is attached to me. we are tied together. you couldn't separate us. next time, perhaps, the 'princess' will be stronger, and able to talk more. i will take her back now." "but where is 'yonnie'?" i asked, and "florence" laughed. "couldn't manage two of them at once," she said. "'yonnie' shall come another day," and i returned to my seat, more mystified than usual. i alluded to the "princess gertie" in my account of the mediumship of bessie fitzgerald, and said that my allusion would find its signification further on. at that time i had hardly believed it could be true that the infants who had been born prematurely and never breathed in this world should be living, sentient spirits to meet me in the next, and half thought some grown spirit must be tricking me for its own pleasure. but here, in this strange land, where my blighted babies had never been mentioned or thought of, to meet the "princess gertie" here, calling herself by her own name, and brought by her sister "florence," set the matter beyond a doubt. it recalled to my mind how once, long before, when "aimée" (mr. arthur colman's guide), on being questioned as to her occupation in the spirit spheres, had said she was "a little nurse maid," and that "florence" was one too, my daughter had added, "yes! i'm mamma's nurse maid. i have enough to do to look after her babies. she just looked at me, and 'tossed' me back into the spirit world, and she's been 'tossing' babies after me ever since." i had struck up a pleasant acquaintanceship with mrs. seymour, "bell's" mother, by that time, and when i went back to my seat and told her what had occurred, she said to me, "i wish you would share the expenses of a private _séance_ with me here. we can have one all to ourselves for ten dollars (two pounds), and it would be so charming to have an afternoon quite alone with our children and friends." i agreed readily, and we made arrangements with mr. abrow before we left that evening, to have a private sitting on the afternoon following christmas day, when no one was to be admitted except our two selves. when we met there the _séance_ room was lighted with gas as for the evening, but we preferred to close the door. helen berry was the medium, and mr. abrow only sat with us. the rows of chairs looked very empty without any sitters, but we established ourselves on those which faced the cabinet in the front row. the first thing which happened was the advent of the "squaw," looking as malignant and vicious as ever, who crept in in her dirty blanket, with her black hair hanging over her face, and deliberately took a seat at the further end of the room. mr. abrow was unmistakably annoyed at the occurrence. he particularly disliked the influence of this spirit, which he considered had a bad effect on the _séance_. he first asked her why she had come, and told her her "brave" was not coming, and to go back to him. then he tried severity, and ordered her to leave the _séance_, but it was all in vain. she kept her seat with persistent obstinacy, and showed no signs of "budging." i thought i would try what kindness would do for her, and approached her with that intention, but she looked so fierce and threatening, that mr. abrow begged me not to go near her, for fear she should do me some harm. so i left her alone, and she kept her seat through the whole of the _séance_, evidently with an eye upon me, and distrusting my behavior when removed from the criticism of the public. her presence, however, seemed to make no difference to our spirit friends. they trooped out of the cabinet one after another, until we had mrs. seymour's brother and her daughter "bell," who brought little "jimmie" (a little son who had gone home before herself) with her, and "florence," "ted," and "john powles," all so happy and strong and talkative, that i told mrs. seymour we only wanted a tea-table to think we were holding an "at home." last, but not least (at all events in her own estimation) came the "princess gertie." mr. abrow tried to make friends with her, but she repulsed his advances vehemently. "i don't like you, mr. mans," she kept on saying, "you's nasty. i don't like any mans. they's _all_ nasty." when i told her she was very rude, and mr. abrow was a very kind gentleman and loved little children, she still persisted she wouldn't speak "to no mans." she came quite alone on this occasion, and i took her in my arms and carried her across to mrs. seymour. she was a feather weight. i felt as if i had nothing in my arms. i said to mrs. seymour, "please tell me what this child is like. i am so afraid of my senses deceiving me that i cannot trust myself." mrs. seymour looked at her and answered, "she has a broad forehead, with dark brown hair cut across it, and falling straight to her shoulders on either side. her eyes are a greyish blue, large and heavy lidded, her nose is short, and her mouth decided for such a child." this testimony, given by a stranger, of the apparition of a child that had never lived, was an exact description (of course in embryo) of her father, colonel lean, who had never set foot in america. perhaps this is as good a proof of identity as i have given yet. our private _séance_ lasted for two hours, and although the different spirits kept on entering the cabinet at intervals to gain more power, they were all with us on and off during the entire time. the last pleasant thing i saw was my dear "florence" making the "princess" kiss her hand in farewell to me, and the only unpleasant one, the sight of the sulky "squaw" creeping in after them with the evident conviction that her afternoon had been wasted. chapter xxvii. iv. _the doctor._ i wonder if it has struck any of my readers as strange that, during all these manifestations in england and america, i had never seen the form, nor heard the voice, of my late father, captain marryat. surely if these various media lived by trickery and falsehood, and wished successfully to deceive me, _some_ of them would have thought of trying to represent a man so well known, and whose appearance was so familiar. other celebrated men and women have come back and been recognized from their portraits only, but, though i have sat at numbers of _séances_ given _for me_ alone, and at which i have been the principal person, my father has never reappeared at any. especially, if these manifestations are all fraud, might this have been expected in america. captain marryat's name is still "a household word" amongst the americans, and his works largely read and appreciated, and wherever i appeared amongst them i was cordially welcomed on that account. when once i had acknowledged my identity and my views on spiritualism, every medium in boston and new york had ample time to get up an imitation of my father for my benefit had they desired to do so. but never has he appeared to me; never have i been told that he was present. twice only in the whole course of my experience have i received the slightest sign from him, and on those occasions he sent me a message--once through mr. fletcher (as i have related), and once through his grandson and my son, frank marryat. that time he told me he should never appear to me and i need never expect him. but since the american media knew nothing of this strictly private communication, and i had seen, before i parted with them, _seventeen_ of my friends and relations, none of whom (except "florence," "powles," and "emily,") i had ever seen in england, it is at the least strange, considering his popularity (and granted their chicanery) that captain marryat was not amongst them. as soon as i became known at the berry's _séances_ several people introduced themselves to me, and amongst others mrs. isabella beecher hooker, the sister of mrs. harriet beecher stowe and henry ward beecher. she was delighted to find me so interested in spiritualism, and anxious i should sit with a friend of hers, a great medium whose name became so rubbed out in my pencil notes, that i am not sure if it was doctor carter, or carteret, and therefore i shall speak of him here as simply "the doctor." the doctor was bound to start for washington the following afternoon, so mrs. hooker asked me to breakfast with her the next morning, by which time she would have found out if he could spare us an hour before he set out on his journey. when i arrived at her house i heard that he had very obligingly offered to give me a complimentary _séance_ at eleven o'clock, so, as soon as we had finished breakfast, we set out for his abode. i found the doctor was quite a young man, and professed himself perfectly ignorant on the subject of spiritualism. he said to me, "i don't know and i don't profess to know _what_ or _who_ it is that appears to my sitters whilst i am asleep. i know nothing of what goes on, except from hearsay. i don't know whether the forms that appear are spirits, or transformations, or materializations. you must judge of that for yourself. there is one peculiarity in my _séances_. they take place in utter darkness. when the apparitions (or whatever you choose to call them) appear, they must bring their own lights or you won't see them, i have no conductor to my _séances_. if whatever comes can't announce itself it must remain unknown. but i think you will find that, as a rule, they can shift for themselves. this is my _séance_ room." as he spoke he led us into an unfurnished bedroom, i say bedroom, because it was provided with the dressing closet fitted with pegs, usual to all bedrooms in america. this closet the doctor used as his cabinet. the door was left open, and there was no curtain hung before it. the darkness he sat in rendered that unnecessary. the bedroom was darkened by two frames, covered with black american cloth, which fitted into the windows. the doctor, having locked the bedroom door, delivered the key to me. he then requested us to go and sit for a few minutes in the cabinet to throw our influence about it. as we did so we naturally examined it. it was only a large cupboard. it had no window and no door, except that which led into the room, and no furniture except a cane-bottomed chair. when we returned to the _séance_ room, the doctor saw us comfortably established on two armchairs before he put up the black frames to exclude the light. the room was then pitch dark, and the doctor had to grope his way to his cabinet. mrs. hooker and i sat for some minutes in silent expectation. then we heard the voice of a negress, singing "darkey" songs, and my friend told me it was that of "rosa," the doctor's control. presently "rosa" was heard to be expostulating with, or encouraging some one, and faint lights, like sparks from a fire, could be seen flitting about the open door of the cabinet. then the lights seemed to congregate together, and cluster about a tall form, draped in some misty material, standing just outside the cabinet. "can't you tell us who you are?" asked mrs. hooker. "you must tell your name, you know," interposed "rosa," whereupon a low voice said, "i am janet e. powles." now this was an extraordinary coincidence. i had seen mrs. powles, the mother of my friend "john powles," only once--when she travelled from liverpool to london to meet me on my return from india, and hear all the particulars of her son's death. but she had continued to correspond with me, and show me kindness till the day of her own death, and as she had a daughter of the same name, she always signed herself "janet _e._ powles." even had i expected to see the old lady, and published the fact in the boston papers, that initial _e_ would have settled the question of her identity in my mind. "mrs. powles," i exclaimed, "how good of you to come and see me." "johnny has helped me to come," she replied. "he is so happy at having met you again. he has been longing for it for so many years, and i have come to thank you for making him happy." (here was another coincidence. "john powles" was never called anything but "powles" by my husband and myself. but his mother had retained the childish name of "johnny," and i could remember how it used to vex him when she used it in her letters to him. he would say to me, "if she would only call me 'john' or 'jack,' or anything but 'johnny.'") i replied, "i may not leave my seat to go to you. will you not come to me?" for the doctor had requested us not to leave our seats, but to insist on the spirits approaching us. "mrs. powles" said, "i cannot come out further into the room to-day. i am too weak. but you shall see me." the lights then appeared to travel about her face and dress till they became stationary, and she was completely revealed to view under the semblance of her earthly likeness. she smiled and said, "we were all at the opera house on thursday night, and rejoiced at your success. 'johnny' was so proud of you. many of your friends were there beside ourselves." i then saw that, unlike the spirits at miss berry's, the form of "mrs. powles" was draped in a kind of filmy white, _over_ a dark dress. all the spirits that appeared with the doctor were so clothed, and i wondered if the filmy substance had anything to do with the lights, which looked like electricity. an incident which occurred further on seemed to confirm my idea. when "mrs. powles" had gone, which we guessed by the extinguishing of the lights, the handsome face and form of "harry montagu" appeared. i had known him well in england, before he took his fatal journey to america, and could never be mistaken in his sweet smile and fascinating manner. he did not come further than the door, either, but he was standing within twelve or fourteen feet of us for all that. he only said, "good-luck to you. we can't lose an interest in the old profession, you know, any more than in the old people." "i wish you'd come and help me, harry," i answered. "oh, i do!" he said, brightly; "several of us do. we are all links of the same chain. half the inspiration in the world comes from those who have gone before. but i must go! i'm getting crowded out. here's ada waiting to see you. good-bye!" and as his light went out, the sweet face of adelaide neilson appeared in his stead. she said, "you wept when you heard of my death; and yet you never knew me. how was that?" "did i weep?" i answered, half forgetting; "if so, it must have been because i thought it so sad that a woman so young, and beautiful, and gifted as you were, should leave the world so soon." "oh no! not sad," she answered, brightly; "glorious! glorious! i would not be back again for worlds." "have you ever seen your grave?" i asked her. she shook her head. "what are _graves_ to us? only cupboards, where you keep our cast-off clothes." "you don't ask me what the world says about you, now," i said to her. "and i don't care," she answered. "don't _you_ forget me! good-bye!" she was succeeded by a spirit who called herself "charlotte cushman," and who spoke to me kindly about my professional life. mrs. hooker told me that, to the best of her knowledge, none of these three spirits had ever appeared under the doctor's mediumship before. but now came out "florence," dancing into the room--_literally dancing_, holding out in both hands the skirt of a dress, which looked as if it were made of the finest muslin or lace, and up and down which fireflys were darting with marvellous rapidity. she looked as if clothed in electricity, and infinitely well pleased with herself. "look!" she exclaimed; "look at my dress! isn't it lovely? look at the fire! the more i shake it, the more fire comes! oh, mother! if you could only have a dress like this for the stage, what a _sensation_ you would make!" and she shook her skirts about, till the fire seemed to set a light to every part of her drapery, and she looked as if she were in flames. i observed, "i never knew you to take so much interest in your dress before, darling." "oh, it isn't the dress," she replied; "it's the _fire_!" and she really appeared as charmed with the novel experience as a child with a new toy. as she left us, a dark figure advanced into the room, and ejaculated, "ma! ma!" i recognized at once the peculiar intonation and mode of address of my stepson, francis lean, with whom, since he had announced his own death to me, i had had no communication, except through trance mediumship. "is that you, my poor boy," i said, "come closer to me. you are not afraid of me, are you?" "o, no! ma! of course not, only i was at the opera house, you know, with the others, and that piece you recited, ma--you know the one--it's all true, ma--and i don't want you to go back to england. stay here, ma--stay here!" i knew perfectly well to what the lad alluded, but i would not enter upon it before a stranger. so i only said, "you forget my children, francis--what would they say if i never went home again." this seemed to puzzle him, but after a while he answered, "then go to _them_, ma; go to _them_." all this time he had been talking in the dark, and i only knew him by the sound of his voice. i said, "are you not going to show yourself to me, francis. it is such a long time since we met." "never since you saw me at the docks. that was _me_, ma, and at brighton, too, only you didn't half believe it till you heard i was gone." "tell me the truth of the accident, francis," i asked him. "was there foul play?" "no," he replied, "but we got quarrelling about _her_ you know, and fighting, and that's how the boat upset. it was _my_ fault, ma, as much as anybody else's." "how was it your body was never found?" "it got dragged down in an undercurrent, ma. it was out at cape horn before they offered a reward for it." then he began to light up, and as soon as the figure was illuminated i saw that the boy was dressed in "jumpers" and "jersey" of dark woollen material, such as they wear in the merchant service in hot climates, but over it all--his head and shoulders included--was wound a quantity of flimsy white material i have before mentioned. "i can't bear this stuff. it makes me look like a girl," said "francis," and with his hands he tore it off. simultaneously the illumination ceased, and he was gone. i called him by name several times, but no sound came out of the darkness. it seemed as though the veiling which he disliked preserved his materialization, and that, with its protection removed, he had dissolved again. when another dark figure came out of the cabinet, and approaching me, knelt at my feet, i supposed it to be "francis" come back again, and laying my hand on the bent head, i asked, "is this you again, dear?" a strange voice answered, with the words, "forgive! forgive!" "_forgive!_" i repeated, "what have i to forgive?" "the attempt to murder your husband in . arthur yelverton brooking has forgiven. he is here with me now. will you forgive too?" "certainly," i replied, "i have forgiven long ago. you expiated your sin upon the gallows. you could do no more." the figure sprung into a standing position, and lit up from head to foot, when i saw the two men standing together, arthur yelverton brooking and the madras sepoy who had murdered him. i never saw anything more brilliant than the appearance of the sepoy. he was dressed completely in white, in the native costume, with a white "puggree" or turban on his head. but his "puggree" was flashing with jewels--strings of them were hung round his neck--and his sash held a magnificent jewelled dagger. you must please to remember that i was not alone, but that this sight was beheld by mrs. hooker as well as myself (to whom it was as unexpected as to her), and that i know she would testify to it to-day. and now to explain the reason of these unlooked-for apparitions. in my husband, then lieutenant ross-church, was adjutant of the th madras native infantry, and arthur yelverton brooking, who had for some time done duty with the th, was adjutant of another native corps, both of which were stationed at madras. lieutenant church was not a favorite with his men, by whom he was considered a martinet, and one day when there had been a review on the island at madras, and the two adjutants were riding home together, a sepoy of the th fired at lieutenant church's back with the intent to kill him, but unfortunately the bullet struck lieutenant brooking instead, who, after lingering for twelve hours, died, leaving a young wife and a baby behind him. for this offence the sepoy was tried and hung, and on his trial the whole truth of course came out. this then was the reason that the spirits of the murdered and the murderer came like friends, because the injury had never been really intended for brooking. when i said that i had forgiven, the sepoy became (as i have told) a blaze of light, and then knelt again and kissed the hem of my dress. as he knelt there he became covered, or heaped over, with a mass of the same filmy drapery as enveloped "francis," and when he rose again he was standing in a cloud. he gathered an end of it, and laying it on my head he wound me and himself round and round with it, until we were bound up in a kind of cocoon. mrs. hooker, who watched the whole proceeding, told me afterwards that she had never seen anything like it before--that she could distinctly see the dark face and the white face close together all the time beneath the drapery, and that i was as brightly illuminated as the spirit. of this i was not aware myself, but _his_ brightness almost dazzled me. let me observe also that i have been in the east indies, and within a few yards' length of sepoys, and that i am sure i could never have been wrapt in the same cloth with a mortal one without having been made painfully aware of it in more ways than one. the spirit did not _unwind_ me again, although the winding process had taken him some time. he whisked off the wrapping with one pull, and i stood alone once more. i asked him by what name i should call him, and he said, "the spirit of light." he then expressed a wish to magnetize something i wore, so as to be the better able to approach me. i gave him a brooch containing "john powles'" hair, which his mother had given me after his death, and he carried it back into the cabinet with him. it was a valuable brooch of onyx and pearls, and i was hoping my eastern friend would not carry it _too_ far, when i found it had been replaced and fastened at my throat without my being aware of the circumstance. "arthur yelverton brooking" had disappeared before this, and neither of them came back again. these were not all the spirits that came under the doctor's mediumship during that _séance_, but only those whom i had known and recognized. several of mrs. hooker's friends appeared and some of the doctor's controls, but as i have said before, they could not help my narrative, and so i omit to describe them. the _séance_ lasted altogether two hours, and i was very grateful to the doctor for giving me the opportunity to study an entirely new phase of the science to me. chapter xxviii. v. _mrs. fay._ there was a young woman called "annie eva fay," who came over from america to london some years ago, and appeared at the hanover square rooms, in an exhibition after the manner of the davenport brothers and messrs. maskelyne and cook. she must not be confounded with the mrs. fay who forms the subject of this chapter, because they had nothing to do with one another. some one in boston advised me _not_ to go and sit at one of this mrs. fay's public _séances_. they were described to me as being too physical and unrefined; that the influences were of a low order, and the audiences matched them. however, when i am studying a matter, i like to see everything i can and hear everything i can concerning it, and to form my own opinion independent of that of anybody else. so i walked off by myself one night to mrs. fay's address, and sat down in a quiet corner, watching everything that occurred. the circle certainly numbered some members of a humble class, but i conclude we should see that everywhere if the fees were lower. media, like other professional people, fix their charges according to the quarter of the city in which they live. but every member was silent and respectful, and evidently a believer. one young man, in deep mourning, with a little girl also in black, of about five or six years old, attracted my attention at once, from his sorrowful and abstracted manner. he had evidently come there, i thought, in the hope of seeing some one whom he had lost. mrs. fay (as she passed through the room to her cabinet) appeared a very quiet, simple-looking little woman to me, without any loudness or vulgarity about her. her cabinet was composed of two curtains only, made of some white material, and hung on uprights at one angle, in a corner of the room, the most transparent contrivance possible. anything like a bustle or confusion inside it, such as would be occasioned by dressing or "making up," would have been apparent at once to the audience outside, who were sitting by the light of an ordinary gas-burner and globe. yet mrs. fay had not been seated there above a few minutes, when there ran out into the _séance_ room two of the most extraordinary materializations i had ever seen, and both of them about as opposite to mrs. fay in appearance as any creatures could be. one was an irish charwoman or apple-woman (she might have been either) with a brown, wrinkled face, a broken nose, tangled grey hair, a crushed bonnet, general dirt and disorder, and a tongue that could talk broad irish, and call "a spade a spade" at one and the same time. "biddy," as she was named, was accompanied by a street newspaper boy--one of those urchins who run after carriages and turn catherine-wheels in the mud, and who talked "gutter-slang" in a style that was utterly unintelligible to the decent portion of the sitters. these two went on in a manner that was undoubtedly funny, but not at all edifying and calculated to drive any enquirer into spiritualism out of the room, under the impression that they were evil spirits bent on our destruction. that either of them was represented by mrs. fay was out of the question. in the first place, she would, in that instance, have been so clever an actress and mimic, that she would have made her fortune on the stage--added to which the boy "teddy" was much too small for her, and "biddy" was much too large. besides, no actress, however experienced, could have "made up" in the time. i was quite satisfied, therefore, that neither of them was the medium, even if i could not have seen her figure the while, through the thin curtains, sitting in her chair. _why_ such low, physical manifestations are permitted i am unable to say. it was no wonder they had shocked the sensibility of my friend. i felt half inclined myself when they appeared to get up and run away. however, i was very glad afterwards that i did not. they disappeared after a while, and were succeeded by a much pleasanter person, a cabinet spirit called "gipsy," who looked as if she might have belonged to one of the gipsy tribes when on earth, she was so brown and arch and lively. presently the young man in black was called up, and i saw him talking to a female spirit very earnestly. after a while he took her hand and led her outside the curtain, and called the little girl whom he had left on his seat by her name. the child looked up, screamed "mamma! mamma!" and flew into the arms of the spirit, who knelt down and kissed her, and we could hear the child sobbing and saying, "oh! mamma, why did you go away?--why did you go away?" it was a very affecting scene--at least it seemed so to me. the instant recognition by the little girl, and her perfect unconsciousness but that her mother had returned _in propria persona_, would have been more convincing proof of the genuineness of spiritualism to a sceptic, than fifty miracles of greater importance. when the spirit mother had to leave again the child's agony at parting was very apparent. "take me with you," she kept on saying, and her father had actually to carry her back to her seat. when they got there they both wept in unison. afterwards he said to me in an apologetic sort of way--he was sitting next to me--"it is the first time, you see, that mary has seen her poor mother, but i wanted to have her testimony to her identity, and i think she gave it pretty plainly, poor child! she'll never be content to let me come alone now." i said, "i think it is a pity you brought her so young," and so i did. "florence" did not appear (she told me afterwards the atmosphere was so "rough" that she could not), and i began to think that no one would come for me, when a common seaman, dressed in ordinary sailor's clothes, ran out of the cabinet and began dancing a hornpipe in front of me. he danced it capitally too, and with any amount of vigorous snapping his fingers to mark the time, and when he had finished he "made a leg," as sailors call it, and stood before me. "have you come for me, my friend?" i enquired. "not exactly," he answered, "but i came with the cap'en. i came to pave the way for him. the cap'en will be here directly. we was in the _avenger_ together." (now all the world knows that my eldest brother, frederick marryat, was drowned in the wreck of the _avenger_ in ; but as i was a little child at the time, and had no remembrance of him, i had never dreamt of seeing him again. he was a first lieutenant when he died, so i do not know why the seaman gave him brevet rank, but i repeat his words as he said them.) after a minute or two i was called up to the cabinet, and saw my brother frederick (whom i recognized from his likeness) standing there dressed in naval uniform, but looking very stiff and unnatural. he smiled when he saw me, but did not attempt to kiss me. i said, "why! fred! is it really you? i thought you would have forgotten all about me." he replied, "forgotten little flo? why should i? do you think i have never seen you since that time, nor heard anything about you? i know everything--everything!" "you must know, then, that i have not spent a very happy life," i said. "never mind," he answered, "you needed it. it has done you good!" but all he said was without any life in it, as if he spoke mechanically--perhaps because it was the first time he had materialized. i had said "good-bye" to him, and dropped the curtain, when i heard my name called twice, "flo! flo!" and turned to receive my sister "emily" in my arms. she looked like herself exactly, but she had only time to kiss me and gasp out, "so glad, so happy to meet again," when she appeared to faint. her eyes closed, her head fell back on my shoulder, and before i had time to realize what was going to happen, she had passed _through_ the arm that supported her, and sunk down _through_ the floor. the sensation of her weight was still making my arm tingle, but "emily" was gone--_clean gone_. i was very much disappointed. i had longed to see this sister again, and speak to her confidentially; but whether it was something antagonistic in the influence of this _séance_ room ("florence" said afterwards that it _was_), or there was some other cause for it, i know not, but most certainly my friends did not seem to flourish there. i had another horrible disappointment before i left. a voice from inside the cabinet called out, "here are two babies who want the lady sitting under the picture." now, there was only one picture hanging in the room, and i was sitting under it. i looked eagerly towards the cabinet, and saw issue from it the "princess gertie" leading a little toddler with a flaxen poll and bare feet, and no clothing but a kind of white chemise. this was "joan," the "yonnie" i had so often asked to see, and i rose in the greatest expectation to receive the little pair. just as they gained the centre of the room, however, taking very short and careful steps, like babies first set on their feet, the cabinet spirit "gipsy" _bounced_ out of the curtains, and saying decidedly, "here! we don't want any children about," she placed her hand on the heads of my little ones, and _pressed them down_ through the floor. they seemed to crumble to pieces before my eyes, and their place knew them no more. i couldn't help feeling angry. i exclaimed, "o! what did you do that for? those were my babies, and i have been longing to see them so." "i can't help it," replied "gipsy," "but this isn't a _séance_ for children." i was so vexed that i took no more interest in the proceedings. a great number of forms appeared, thirty or forty in all, but by the time i returned to my hotel and began to jot down my notes, i could hardly remember what they were. i had been dreaming all the time of how much i should have liked to hold that little flaxen-haired "yonnie" in my arms. chapter xxix. vi. _virginia roberts._ when i returned to new york, it was under exceptional circumstances. i had taken cold whilst travelling in the western states, had had a severe attack of bronchitis and pneumonia at chicago, was compelled to relinquish my business, and as soon as i was well enough to travel, was ordered back to new york to recuperate my health. here i took up my abode in the victoria hotel, where a lady, whose acquaintance i had made on my former visit to the city, was living. as i have no permission to publish this lady's name, i must call her mrs. s----. she had been a spiritualist for some time before i knew her, and she much interested me by showing me an entry in her diary, made _four years_ previous to my arrival in america. it was an account of the utterances of a mrs. philips, a clairvoyant then resident in new york, during which she had prophesied my arrival in the city, described my personal appearance, profession, and general surroundings perfectly, and foretold my acquaintanceship with mrs. s----. the prophecy ended with words to the effect that our meeting would be followed by certain effects that would influence her future life, and that on the th of march, , would commence a new era in her existence. it was at the beginning of march that we first lived under the same roof. as soon as mrs. s---- found that i was likely to have some weeks of leisure, she became very anxious that we should visit the new york media together; for although she had so long been a believer in spiritualism, she had not (owing to family opposition) met with much sympathy on the subject, or had the opportunity of much investigation. so we determined, as soon as i was well enough to go out in the evening, that we would attend some _séances_. as it happened, when that time came, we found the medium most accessible to be miss virginia roberts, of whom neither of us knew anything but what we had learned from the public papers. however, it was necessary that i should be exposed as little as possible to the night air, and so we fixed, by chance as it were, to visit miss roberts first. we found her living with her mother and brother in a small house in one of the back streets of the city. she was a young girl of sixteen, very reserved and rather timid-looking, who had to be drawn out before she could be made to talk. she had only commenced sitting a few months before, and that because her brother (who was also a medium) had had an illness and been obliged to give up his _séances_ for a while. the _séance_ room was very small, the manifestations taking place almost in the midst of the circle, and the cabinet (so-called) was the flimsiest contrivance i had ever seen. four uprights of iron, not thicker than the rod of a muslin blind, with cross-bars of the same, on which were hung thin curtains of lilac print, formed the construction of this cabinet, which shook and swayed about each time a form left or entered it. a harmonium for accompanying the voices, and a few chairs for the audience, was all the furniture the room contained. the first evening we went to see miss roberts there were only two or three sitters beside ourselves. the medium seemed to be pretty nearly unknown, and i resolved, as i usually do in such cases, not to expect anything, for fear i should be disappointed. mrs. s----, on the contrary, was all expectation and excitement. if she had ever sat for materializations, it had been long before, and the idea was like a new one to her. after two or three forms had appeared, of no interest to us, a gentleman in full evening dress walked suddenly out of the cabinet, and said, "kate," which was the name of mrs. s----. he was a stout, well-formed man, of an imposing presence, with dark hair and eyes, and he wore a solitaire of diamonds of unusual brilliancy in his shirt front. i had no idea who he was; but mrs. s---- recognized him at once as an old lover who had died whilst under a misunderstanding with her, and she was powerfully affected--more, she was terribly frightened. it seems that she wore at her throat a brooch which he had given her; but every time he approached her with the view of touching it, she shrieked so loudly, and threw herself into such a state of nervous agitation, that i thought she would have to return home again. however, on her being accommodated with a chair in the last row so that she might have the other sitters between her and the materialized spirits, she managed to calm herself. the only friend who appeared for me that evening was "john powles;" and, to my surprise and pleasure, he appeared in the old uniform of the th madras native infantry. this corps wore facings of fawn, with buttons bearing the word "ava," encircled by a wreath of laurel. the mess jackets were lined with wadded fawn silk, and the waistcoats were trimmed with three lines of narrow gold braid. their "karkee," or undress uniform, established in , consisted of a tunic and trousers of a sad green cloth, with the regimental buttons and a crimson silk sash. the marching dress of all officers in the indian service is made of white drill, with a cap cover of the same material. their forage cloak is of dark blue cloth, and hangs to their heels. their forage cap has a broad square peak to shelter the face and eyes. i mention these details for the benefit of those who are not acquainted with the general dress of the indian army, and to show how difficult it would have been for virginia roberts, or any other medium, to have procured them, even had she known the private wish expressed by me to "john powles" in boston, that he would try and come to me in uniform. on this first occasion of his appearing so, he wore the usual everyday coat, buttoned up to his chin, and he made me examine the buttons to see that they bore the crest and motto of the regiment. and i may say here, that before i left new york he appeared to me in every one of the various dresses i have described above, and became quite a marked figure in the city. when it was made known through the papers that an old friend of florence marryat had appeared through the mediumship of virginia roberts, in a uniform of thirty years before, i received numbers of private letters inquiring if it were true, and dozens of people visited miss roberts' _séances_ for the sole purpose of seeing him. he took a great liking for mrs. s----, and when she had conquered her first fear she became quite friendly with him, and i heard, after leaving new york, that he continued to appear for her as long as she attended those _séances_. there was one difference in the female spirits that came through virginia roberts from those of other media. those that were strong enough to leave the cabinet invariably disappeared by floating upwards through the ceiling. their mode of doing this was most graceful. they would first clasp their hands behind their heads and lean backward; then their feet were lifted off the ground, and they were borne upward in a recumbent position. when i related this to my friend, dr. george lefferts (under whom i was for throat treatment to recover my voice), he declared there must be some machinery connected with the uprights that supported the cabinet, by which the forms were elevated. he had got it all so "pat" that he was able to take a pencil and demonstrate to me on paper exactly how the machinery worked, and how easy it would be to swing full-sized human bodies up to the ceiling with it. how they managed to disappear when they got there he was not quite prepared to say; but if he once saw the trick done, he would explain the whole matter to me, and expose it into the bargain. i told dr. lefferts, as i have told many other clever men, that i shall be the first person open to conviction when they can convince me, and i bore him off to a private _séance_ with virginia roberts for that purpose only. he was all that was charming on the occasion. he gave me a most delightful dinner at delmonico's first (for which i tender him in print my grateful recollection), and he tested all miss roberts' manifestations in the most delicate and gentlemanly manner (sceptics as a rule are neither delicate nor gentlemanly), but he could neither open my eyes to chicanery nor detect it himself. he handled and shook the frail supports of the cabinet, and confessed they were much too weak to bear any such weight as he had imagined. he searched the carpeted floor and the adjoining room for hidden machinery without finding the slightest thing to rouse his suspicions, and yet he saw the female forms float upwards through the whitewashed ceiling, and came away from the _séance_ room as wise as when he had entered it. but this occurred some weeks after. i must relate first what happened after our first _séance_ with miss roberts. mrs. s---- and i were well enough pleased with the result to desire to test her capabilities further, and with that intent we invited her to visit us at our hotel. spiritualism is as much tabooed by one section of the american public as it is encouraged by the other, and so we resolved to breathe nothing of our intentions, but invite the girl to dine and spend the evening in our rooms with us just as if she were an ordinary visitor. consequently, we dined together at the _table d'hôte_ before we took our way upstairs. mrs. s---- and i had a private sitting-room, the windows of which were draped with white lace curtains only, and we had no other means to shut out the light. consequently, when we wished to sit, all we could do was to place a chair for virginia roberts in the window recess, behind one of these pairs of curtains, and pin them together in front of her, which formed the airiest cabinet imaginable. we then locked the door, lowered the gas, and sat down on a sofa before the curtains. in the space of five minutes, without the lace curtains having been in the slightest degree disturbed, francis lean, my stepson, walked _through_ them, and came up to my side. he was dressed in his ordinary costume of jersey and "jumpers," and had a little worsted cap upon his head. he displayed all the peculiarities of speech and manner i have noticed before; but he was much less timid, and stood by me for a long time talking of my domestic affairs, which were rather complicated, and giving me a detailed account of the accident which caused his death, and which had been always somewhat of a mystery. in doing this, he mentioned names of people hitherto unknown to me, but which i found on after inquiry to be true. he seemed quite delighted to be able to manifest so indisputably like himself, and remarked more than once, "i'm not much like a girl now, am i, ma?" next, mrs. s----'s old lover came, of whom she was still considerably alarmed, and her father, who had been a great politician and a well-known man. "florence," too, of course, though never so lively through miss roberts as through other media, but still happy though pensive, and full of advice how i was to act when i reached england again. presently a soft voice said, "aunt flo, don't you know me?" and i saw standing in front of me my niece and godchild, lilian thomas, who had died as a nun in the convent of the "dames anglaises" at bruges. she was clothed in her nun's habit, which was rather peculiar, the face being surrounded by a white cap, with a crimped border that hid all the hair, and surmounted by a white veil of some heavy woollen material which covered the head and the black serge dress. "lilian" had died of consumption, and the death-like, waxy complexion which she had had for some time before was exactly reproduced. she had not much to say for herself; indeed, we had been completely separated since she had entered the convent, but she was undoubtedly _there_. she was succeeded by my sister "emily," whom i have already so often described. and these apparitions, six in number, and all recognizable, were produced in the private room of mrs. s---- and myself, and with no other person but virginia roberts, sixteen years old. it was about this time that we received an invitation to attend a private _séance_ in a large house in the city, occupied by mr. and mrs. newman, who had maud lord staying with them as a visitor. maud lord's mediumship is a peculiar one. she places her sitters in a circle, holding hands. she then seats herself on a chair in the centre, and keeps on clapping her hands, to intimate that she has not changed her position. the _séance_ is held in darkness, and the manifestations consist of "direct voices," _i.e._ voices that every one can hear, and by what they say to you, you must judge of their identity and truthfulness. i had only witnessed powers of this kind once before--through mrs. bassett, who is now mrs. herne--but as no one spoke to me through her whom i recognized, i have omitted to give any account of it. as soon as maud lord's sitting was fully established, i heard her addressing various members of the company, telling them who stood beside them, and i heard them putting questions to, or holding conversations with, creature who were invisible to me. the time went on, and i believed i was going to be left out of it, when i heard a voice close to my ear whisper, "arthur." at the same moment maud lord's voice sounded in my direction, saying that the lady in the brown velvet hat had a gentleman standing near her, named "arthur," who wished to be recognized. i was the only lady present in a brown velvet hat, yet i could not recall any deceased friend of the name of "arthur" who might wish to communicate with me. (it is a constant occurrence at a _séance_ that the mind refuses to remember a name, or a circumstance, and on returning home, perhaps the whole situation makes itself clear, and one wonders how one could have been so dull as not to perceive it.) so i said that i knew no one in the spirit-world of that name, and maud lord replied, "well, _he_ knows _you_, at all events." a few more minutes elapsed, when i felt a touch on the third finger of my left hand, and the voice spoke again and said, "arthur! 'arthur's ring.' have you quite forgotten?" this action brought the person to my memory, and i exclaimed, "oh! johnny cope, is it you?" to explain this, i must tell my readers that when i went out to india in , arthur cope of the lancers was a passenger by the same steamer; and when we landed in madras, he made me a present of a diamond ring, which i wore at that _séance_ as a guard. but he was never called by anything but his nickname of "johnny," so that his real appellation had quite slipped my memory. the poor fellow died in or , and i had been ungrateful enough to forget all about him, and should never have remembered his name had it not been coupled with the ring. it would have been still more remarkable, though, if maud lord, who had never seen me till that evening, had discovered an incident which happened thirty years before, and which i had completely forgotten. before i had been many days in new york, i fell ill again from exposing myself to the weather, this time with a bad throat. mrs. s---- and i slept in the same room, and our sitting-room opened into the bedroom. she was indefatigable in her attentions and kindness to me during my illness, and kept running backwards and forwards from the bedroom to the sitting-room, both by night and day, to get me fresh poultices, which she kept hot on the steam stove. one evening about eleven o'clock she got out of bed in her nightdress, and went into the next room for this purpose. almost directly after she entered it, i heard a heavy fall. i called her by name, and receiving no answer, became frightened, jumped out of bed, and followed her. to my consternation, i found her stretched out, at full length, on a white bearskin rug, and quite insensible. she was a delicate woman, and i thought at first that she had fainted from fatigue; but when she showed no signs of returning consciousness, i became alarmed. i was very weak myself from my illness, and hardly able to stand, but i managed to put on a dressing-gown and summon the assistance of a lady who occupied the room next to us, and whose acquaintance we had already made. she was strong and capable, and helped me to place mrs. s---- upon the sofa, where she lay in the same condition. after we had done all we could think of to bring her to herself without effect, the next-door lady became frightened. she said to me, "i don't like this. i think we ought to call in a doctor. supposing she were to die without regaining consciousness." i replied, "i should say the same, excepting i begin to believe she has not fainted at all, but is in a trance; and in that case, any violent attempts to bring her to herself might injure her. just see how quietly she breathes, and how very young she looks." when her attention was called to this fact, the next-door lady was astonished. mrs. s----, who was a woman past forty, looked like a girl of sixteen. she was a very pretty woman, but with a dash of temper in her expression which spoiled it. now with all the passions and lines smoothed out of it, she looked perfectly lovely. so she might have looked in death. but she was not dead. she was breathing. so i felt sure that the spirit had escaped for a while and left her free. i covered her up warmly on the sofa, and determined to leave her there till the trance had passed. after a while i persuaded the next-door lady to think as i did, and to go back to her own bed. as soon as she had gone, i administered my own poultice, and sat down to watch beside my friend. the time went on until seven in the morning--seven hours she had lain, without moving a limb, upon the sofa--when, without any warning, she sat up and gazed about her. i called her by name, and asked her what she wanted; but i could see at once, by her expression, that she did not know me. presently she asked me, "who are you?" i told her. "are you kate's friend?" she said. i answered, "yes." "do you know who _i_ am?" was the next question, which, of course, i answered in the negative. mrs. s---- thereupon gave me the name of a german gentleman which i had never heard before. an extraordinary scene then followed. influenced by the spirit that possessed her, mrs. s---- rose and unlocked a cabinet of her own, which stood in the room, and taking thence a bundle of old letters, she selected several and read portions of them aloud to me. she then told me a history of herself and the gentleman whose spirit was speaking through her, and gave me several messages to deliver to herself the following day. it will be sufficient for me to say that this history was of so private a nature, that it was most unlikely she would have confided it to me or any one, particularly as she was a woman of a most secretive nature; but names, addresses, and even words of conversations were given, in a manner which would have left no room for doubt of their truthfulness, even if mrs. s---- had not confirmed them to be facts afterwards. this went on for a long time, the spirit expressing the greatest animosity against mrs. s---- all the while, and then the power seemed suddenly to be spent, and she went off to sleep again upon the sofa, waking up naturally about an hour afterwards, and very much surprised to hear what had happened to her meanwhile. when we came to consider the matter, we found that this unexpected seizure had taken place upon _the th of march_, the day predicted by mrs. philips four years previously as one on which a new era would commence for mrs. s----. from that time she continually went into trances, and used to predict the future for herself and others; but whether she has kept it up to this day i am unable to say, as i have heard nothing from her since i left america. that event took place on the th of june, . we had been in the habit of spending our sunday evenings in miss roberts' _séance_ room, and she begged me not to miss the last opportunity. when we arrived there, we found that the accompanist who usually played the harmonium for them was unable to be present, and miss roberts asked if i would be his substitute. i said i would, on condition that they moved the instrument on a line with the cabinet, so that i might not lose a sight of what was going on. this was accordingly done, and i commenced to play "thou art gone from my gaze." almost immediately "john powles" stepped out, dressed in uniform, and stood by the harmonium with his hand upon my shoulder. "i never was much of a singer, you know, flo," he said to me; "but if you will sing that song with me, i'll try and go through it." and he actually did sing (after a fashion) the entire two verses of the ballad, keeping his hand on my shoulder the whole time. when we came to the line, "i seek thee in vain by the meadow and stream," he stooped down and whispered in my ear, "not _quite_ in vain, flo, has it been?" i do not know if my english spiritualistic friends can "cap" this story, but in america they told me it was quite a unique performance, particularly at a public _séance_, where the jarring of so many diverse influences often hinders instead of helping the manifestations. "powles" appeared to be especially strong on that occasion. towards the middle of the evening a kind of whining was heard to proceed from the cabinet; and miss roberts, who was not entranced, said, "there's a baby coming out for miss marryat." at the same time the face of little "yonnie" appeared at the opening of the curtains, but nearly level with the ground, as she was crawling out on all fours. before she had had time to advance beyond them, "powles" stepped over her and came amongst us. "oh, powles!" i exclaimed, "you used to love my little babies. do pick up that one for me that i may see it properly." he immediately returned, took up "yonnie," and brought her out into the circle on his arm. the contrast of the baby's white kind of nightgown with his scarlet uniform was very striking. he carried the child to each sitter that it might be thoroughly examined; and when he had returned "yonnie" to the cabinet, he came out again on his own account. that evening i was summoned into the cabinet myself by the medium's guide, a little italian girl, who had materialized several times for our benefit. when i entered it, i stumbled up against miss roberts' chair. there was barely room for me to stand beside it. she said to me, "is that _you_, miss marryat?" and i replied, "yes; didn't you send for me?" she said "no; i didn't send, i know nothing about it!" a voice behind me said, "_i_ sent for you!" and at the same moment two strong arms were clasped round my waist, and a man's face kissed me over my shoulder. i asked, "who are you?" and he replied, "walk out of the cabinet and you shall see." i turned round, two hands were placed upon my shoulders, and i walked back into the circle with a tall man walking behind me in that position. when i could look at him in the gaslight, i recognized my brother, frank marryat, who died in , and whom i had never seen since. of course, the other spirits who were familiar with mrs. s---- and myself came to wish me a pleasant voyage across the atlantic, but i have mentioned them all so often that i fear i must already have tired out the patience of my readers. but in order to be impressive it is so necessary to be explicit. all i can bring forward in excuse is, that every word i have written is the honest and unbiassed truth. here, therefore, ends the account of my experience in spiritualism up to the present moment--not, by any means, the half, nor yet _the quarter of it_, but all i consider likely to interest the general public. and those who have been interested in it may see their own friends as i have done, if they will only take the same trouble that i have done. chapter xxx. "qui bono?" my friends have so often asked me this question, that i think, before i close this book, i am justified in answering it, at all events, as far as i myself am concerned. how often have i sat, surrounded by an interested audience, who knew me too well to think me either a lunatic or a liar; and after i have told them some of the most marvellous and thrilling of my experiences, they have assailed me with these questions, "but what _is_ it? and what _good_ does it do? _what is it?_" there, my friends, i confess you stagger me! i can no more tell you what it is than i can tell you what _you_ are or what _i_ am. we know that, like topsy, we "grew." we know that, given certain conditions and favorable accessories, a child comes into this world, and a seed sprouts through the dark earth and becomes a flower; but though we know the cause and see the effect, the greatest man of science, or the greatest botanist, cannot tell you how the child is made, nor how the plant grows. neither can i (or any one) tell you _what_ the power is that enables a spirit to make itself apparent. i can only say that it can do so, and refer you to the creator of you and me and the entire universe. the commonest things the earth produces are all miracles, from the growing of a mustard seed to the expansion of a human brain. what is more wonderful than the hatching of an egg? you see it done every day. it has become so common that you regard it as an event of no consequence. you know the exact number of days the bird must sit to produce a live chicken with all its functions ready for nature's use, but you see nothing wonderful in it. all birds can do the same, and you would not waste your time in speculating on the wondrous effect of heat upon a liquid substance which turns to bone and blood and flesh and feathers. if you were as familiar with the reappearance of those who have gone before as you are with chickens, you would see nothing supernatural in their manifesting themselves to you, and nothing more miraculous than in the birth of a child or the hatching of an egg. why should it be? who has fixed the abode of the spirit after death? who can say where it dwells, or that it is not permitted to return to this world, perhaps to live in it altogether? still, however the almighty sends them, the fact remains that they come, and that thousands can testify to the fact. as to the theory advanced by some people that they are devils, sent to lure us to our destruction, that is an insult to the wisdom or mercy of an omnipotent creator. they cannot come except by his permission, just as he sends children to some people and withholds them from others. and the conversation of most of those that i have talked with is all on the side of religion, prayer, and self-sacrifice. _my_ friends, at all events, have never denied the existence of a god or a saviour. they have, on the contrary (and especially "florence"), been very quick to rebuke me for anything i may have done that was wrong, for neglect of prayer and church-going, for speaking evil of my neighbors, or any other fault. they have continually inculcated the doctrine that religion consists in unselfish love to our fellow-creatures, and in devotion to god. i do not deny that there are frivolous and occasionally wicked spirits about us. is it to be wondered at? for one spirit that leaves this world calculated to do good to his fellow-creatures, a hundred leave it who will do him harm. that is really the reason that the church discourages spiritualism. she does not disbelieve in it. she knows it to be true; but she also knows it to be dangerous. since like attracts like, the numbers of thoughtless spirits who still dwell on earth would naturally attract the numbers of thoughtless spirits who have left it, and their influence is best dispensed with. talk of devils. i have known many more devils in the flesh than out of it, and could name a number of acquaintances who, when once passed out of this world, i should steadfastly refuse to have any communication with. i have no doubt myself whatever as to _what_ it is, or that i have seen my dear friends and children as i knew them upon earth. but _how_ they come or _where_ they go, i must wait until i join them to ascertain, even if i shall do it then. the second question, however, i can more easily deal with, _what good is it?_ the only wonder to me is that people who are not stone-blind to what is going on in this world can put such a question. what good is it to have one's faith in immortality and another life confirmed in an age of freethought, scepticism and utter callousness? when i look around me and see the young men nowadays--ay, and the young women too--who believe in no hereafter, who lie down and die, like the dumb animals who cannot be made to understand the love of the dear god who created them although they feel it, i cannot think of anything calculated to do them more good than the return of a father or a mother or a friend, who could convince them by ocular demonstration that there is a future life and happiness and misery, according to the one we have led here below. "oh, but," i seem to hear some readers exclaim, "we _do_ believe in all that you say. we have been taught so from our youth up, and the bible points to it in every line." you may _think_ you believe it, my friends, and in a theoretical way you may; but you do not _realize_ it, and the whole of your lives proves it. death, instead of being the blessed portal to the life elysian, the gate of which may swing open for you any day, and admit you to eternal and unfading happiness, is a far-off misty phantom, whose approach you dread, and the sight of which in others you run away from. the majority of people avoid the very mention of death. they would not look at a corpse for anything; the sight of a coffin or a funeral or a graveyard fills them with horror; the idea of it for themselves makes them turn pale with fright. is _this_ belief in the existence of a tender father and a blessed home waiting to receive them on the other side? even professed christians experience what they term a "natural" horror at the thought of death! i have known persons of fixed religious principles who had passed their lives (apparently) in prayer, and expressed their firm belief in heaven waiting for them, fight against death with all their mortal energies, and try their utmost to baffle the disease that was sent to carry them to everlasting happiness. is this logical? it is tantamount in my idea to the pauper in the workhouse who knows that directly the gate is open to let him through, he will pass from skilly, oakum, and solitary confinement to the king's palace to enjoy youth, health, and prosperity evermore; and who, when he sees the gates beginning to unclose, puts his back and all his neighbors' backs against them to keep them shut as long as possible. death should not be a "horror" to any one; and if we knew more about it, it would cease to be so. it is the _mystery_ that appals us. we see our friends die, and no word or sign comes back to tell us that there _is_ no death, so we picture them to ourselves mouldering in the damp earth till we nearly go mad with grief and dismay. some people think me heartless because i never go near the graves of those whom i love best. why should i? i might with more reason go and sit beside a pile of their cast-off garments. i could _see_ them, and they would actually retain more of their identity and influence than the corpse which i could _not_ see. i mourn their loss just the same, but i mourn it as i should do if they had settled for life in a far distant land, from which i could only enjoy occasional glimpses of their happiness. and i may say emphatically that the greatest good spiritualism does is to remove the fear of one's own death. one can never be quite certain of the changes that circumstances may bring about, nor do i like to boast overmuch. disease and weakness may destroy the nerve i flatter myself on possessing; but i think i may say that as matters stand at present _i have no fear of death whatever_, and the only trouble i can foresee in passing through it will be to witness the distress of my friends. but when i remember all those who have gathered on the other side, and whom i firmly believe will be present to help me in my passage there, i can feel nothing but a great curiosity to pierce the mysteries as yet unrevealed to me, and a great longing for the time to come when i shall join those whom i loved so much on earth. not to be happy at once by any manner of means. i am too sinful a mortal for that, but "to work out my salvation" in the way god sees best for me, to make my own heaven or hell according as i have loved and succoured my fellow-creatures here below. yet however much i may be destined to suffer, never without hope and assistance from those whom i have loved, and never without feeling that through the goodness of god each struggle or reparation brings me near to the fruition of eternal happiness. _this_ is my belief, _this_ is the good that the certain knowledge that we can never die has done for me, and the worst i wish for anybody is that they may share it with me. "oh! though oft depressed and lonely, all my fears are laid aside, if i but remember only such as these have lived and died." the end. united states book company's announcements and new publications. *.*_the books mentioned in this list can be obtained_ to order _by any bookseller if not in stock, or will be sent by the publisher post free on receipt of price_. lovell's international series =_ . on circumstantial evidence_=--by florence marryat this is a story in which love and intrigue are the two disturbing elements. miss marryat is well-known to the readers of sentimental novels. she has a bright and crisp way of presenting the frailties of the human race, which makes her stories entertaining.--_boston herald._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. =_ . miss kate, or the confessions of a caretaker_=--by rita this is a novel of much interest in the first part, of the objectionable "guilty love" order in the latter half. there are some beautiful bits of character drawing in it, and some very clever hits at american foibles. this story is exceedingly well told.--_nashville american._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. =_ . a vagabond lover_=--by rita is a mere sketch. the hero having been a child who was washed on shore from a shipwreck during a storm, and found by a man who believed that he had discovered the cause and generation of life. the child was made a subject for experiment; life was breathed into it, but only physical life and not its higher principle. the result is that the child grows up to manhood without one redeeming virtue, and seems to delight in doing all manner of evil.--_philadelphia record._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. _= . the search for basil lyndhurst=_--by rosa n. carey is a well written english novel, into which are woven numerous historical sketches, adding the merit of instructiveness to its other qualities.--_pittsburgh post._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. =_ . sylvia arden_=--by oswald crawfurd is a novel whose story is supposed to be told by a man who confesses at the outset that life has been with him a failure. he has been successful in nothing though trying everything--and the novel deals with the most remarkable incidents in that sort of a career. it is a cleverly done book, and there is much in it which is fresh as well as exciting.--_columbus, o., journal._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. =_ . young mr. ainslie's courtship_=--by f. c. philips it seems impossible for f. c. philips, the author of "as in a looking glass," to keep sensational tragedy out of his novels. in "young mr. ainslie's courtship" he has written a story which is charming, witty? and agreeable up to the very last chapter.--_san francisco chronicle._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. _= . the haute noblesse=_--by geo. manville fenn is a well wrought story of which the heroine is a child of the high aristocracy, but nevertheless such admirable traits and qualities that even the humblest reader cannot fail to love her.--_columbus, o., journal._ cloth. $ . . paper cover, cents. =_ . mount eden_=--by florence marryat miss florence marryat is well known to the readers of sentimental novels. she has a bright and crisp way of presenting the frailties of the human race, which makes her stories entertaining, even if they are devoid of all good moral purpose. they open one's eyes to the inconsistencies of life without wholly destroying his faith in his fellow citizens.--_boston herald._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. _= . a woman's heart=_--by mrs. alexander the name of this author is familiar to all lovers of fiction who will need nothing more to assure them that they will not regret the time spent in reading "a woman's heart." it is a refined and interesting story, pleasant and easy reading, as is usual with all mrs. alexander's works. cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. _= . syrlin=_--by ouida the announcement of a new novel by ouida, sends a thrill of delight through the countless host of faithful admirers of that petulant priestess of mild improprieties. her new books are just like her old ones. there is the usual abundance of gilded vice and wilful wickedness lugged in to give the book its wonted flavor.--_n. o. states._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. =_ . the rival princess_=--by justin mccarthy and mrs. campbell praed it is a romance of contemporary english politics wherein many well-known public men appear under thin disguises. there is a stuart princess with lineal claims to the english throne, and there is an unmasked mr. gladstone, who boldly urges the abolition of the house of lords.-_-charleston sunday times._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. _= . blindfold=_--by florence marryat is, in many respects, the best novel which has been given us by the prolific pen of the well-known englishwoman. the story is novel, well told, and events follow upon each other quickly, never allowing the interest to flag.--_denver news._ cloth, $ . . paper cover, cents. united states book company, publishers, n. y. transcriber's notes: text that was written in bold is marked =like this=. page , "marryatt" changed to "marryat" (normalising spelling of author's name) page , "nor" changed to "not" (a single medium of whom i have not) page , "bood" changed to "blood" (where the stain of his blood still remained) page , "briliant" changed to "brilliant" (a room that was unpleasantly brilliant) page , "tempered" changed to "tampered" (it had not been tampered with) page , "seing" changed to "seeing" (the possibility of seeing a "ghost,") page , "foreigh" changed to "foreign" (he was equally ignorant of foreign languages) page , "succssefully" changed to "successfully" (in order to imitate her manner and speech successfully) page , "gupyy" changed to "guppy" (as mrs. guppy came sailing over our heads) page , "it" changed to "if" (i inquired of every sitter if they had seen) page , "eartly" changed to "earthly" (as naturally as if she were their earthly form) page , "fitzgarald" changed to "fitzgerald" (mrs. fitzgerald was dining with us) page , "fitzgereld" changed to "fitzgerald" (returned through mrs. fitzgerald) page , "don" changed to "done" (perhaps, than anything else has done) page , added missing end single quote in probable correct place (through the life that lies before you.') page , "forgetten" changed to "forgotten" (i had almost forgotten mr. plummer) page , "mamed" changed to "named" (a photographer in london, named hudson) page , "instrument" changed to "instruments" (the two instruments pealed forth) page , "ocsion" changed to "occasion" (mr. towns prognosticated on that occasion) page , "conducter" changed to "conductor" ("did you know the spirit?" the conductor asked) page , "aquaintance" changed to "acquaintance" (soon after i made her acquaintance) page , "creature" changed to "creatures" (creatures who were invisible to me) page , "mr" changed to "mrs" (mrs. s---- and i slept in the same room) page , "christian" changed to "christians" (even professed christians experience what they term) end catalogue, no. , "circumstatial" changed to "circumstantial" (on circumstantial evidence) end catalogue, no. , "successfu" changed to "successful" (he has been successful in nothing) n.b. . some punctuation corrections have not been noted here. . two non-matching instances of latin word: "prôpria" and "propria". left as-is. the ne'er-do-well by rex beach author of "the silver horde" "the spoilers" "the iron trail" etc. illustrated to my wife contents i. victory ii. the trail divides iii. a gap iv. new acquaintances v. a remedy is proposed vi. in which kirk anthony is greatly surprised vii. the reward of merit viii. el comandante takes a hand ix. spanish law x. a change of plan xi. the truth about mrs. cortlandt xii. a night at taboga xiii. chiquita xiv. the path that led nowhere xv. alias jefferson locke xvi. " " xvii. garavel the banker xviii. the siege of maria torres xix. "la tosca" xx. an awakening xxi. the rest of the family xxii. a challenge and a confession xxiii. a plot and a sacrifice xxiv. a business proposition xxv. checkmate! xxvi. the crash xxvii. a question xxviii. the answer xxix. a last appeal xxx. darwin k anthony the ne'er-do-well i victory it was a crisp november night. the artificial brilliance of broadway was rivalled by a glorious moonlit sky. the first autumn frost was in the air, and on the side-streets long rows of taxicabs were standing, their motors blanketed, their chauffeurs threshing their arms to rout the cold. a few well-bundled cabbies, perched upon old-style hansoms, were barking at the stream of hurrying pedestrians. against a background of lesser lights myriad points of electric signs flashed into everchanging shapes, winking like huge, distorted eyes; fanciful designs of liquid fire ran up and down the walls or blazed forth in lurid colors. from the city's canons came an incessant clanging roar, as if a great river of brass and steel were grinding its way toward the sea. crowds began to issue from the theatres, and the lines of waiting vehicles broke up, filling the streets with the whir of machinery and the clatter of hoofs. a horde of shrill-voiced urchins pierced the confusion, waving their papers and screaming the football scores at the tops of their lusty lungs, while above it all rose the hoarse tones of carriage callers, the commands of traffic officers, and the din of street-car gongs. in the lobby of one of the playhouses a woman paused to adjust her wraps, and, hearing the cries of the newsboys, petulantly exclaimed: "i'm absolutely sick of football. that performance during the third act was enough to disgust one." her escort smiled. "oh, you take it too seriously," he said. "those boys don't mean anything. that was merely youth--irrepressible youth, on a tear. you wouldn't spoil the fun?" "it may have been youth," returned his companion, "but it sounded more like the end of the world. it was a little too much!" a bevy of shop-girls came bustling forth from a gallery exit. "rah! rah! rah!" they mimicked, whereupon the cry was answered by a hundred throats as the doors belched forth the football players and their friends. out they came, tumbling, pushing, jostling; greeting scowls and smiles with grins of insolent good-humor. in their hands were decorated walking-sticks and flags, ragged and tattered as if from long use in a heavy gale. dignified old gentlemen dived among them in pursuit of top-hats; hysterical matrons hustled daughters into carriages and slammed the doors. "wuxtry! wuxtry!" shrilled the newsboys. "full account of the big game!" a youth with a ridiculous little hat and heliotrope socks dashed into the street, where, facing the crowd, he led a battle song of his university. policemen set their shoulders to the mob, but, though they met with no open resistance, they might as well have tried to dislodge a thicket of saplings. to-night football was king. out through the crowd came a score of deep-chested young men moving together as if to resist an attack, whereupon a mighty roar went up. the cheer-leader increased his antics, and the barking yell changed to a measured chant, to the time of which the army marched down the street until the twenty athletes dodged in through the revolving doors of a cafe, leaving broadway rocking with the tumult. all the city was football-mad, it seemed, for no sooner had the new-comers entered the restaurant than the diners rose to wave napkins or to cheer. men stepped upon chairs and craned for a better sight of them; women raised their voices in eager questioning. a gentleman in evening dress pointed out the leader of the squad to his companions, explaining: "that is anthony--the big chap. he's darwin k. anthony's son. you've heard about the anthony bill at albany?" "yes, and i saw this fellow play football four years ago. say! that was a game." "he's a worthless sort of chap, isn't he?" remarked one of the women, when the squad had disappeared up the stairs. "just a rich man's son, that's all. but he certainly could play football." "didn't i read that he had been sent to jail recently?" "no doubt. he was given thirty days." "what! in prison?" questioned another, in a shocked voice. "only for speeding. it was his third offence, and his father let him take his medicine." "how cruel!" "old man anthony doesn't care for this sort of thing. he's right, too. all this young fellow is good for is to spend money." up in the banquet-hall, however, it was evident that kirk anthony was more highly esteemed by his mates than by the public at large. he was their hero, in fact, and in a way he deserved it. for three years before his graduation he had been the heart and sinew of the university team, and for the four years following he had coached them, preferring the life of an athletic trainer to the career his father had offered him. and he had done his chosen work well. only three weeks prior to the hard gruel of the great game the eleven had received a blow that had left its supporters dazed and despairing. there had been a scandal, of which the public had heard little and the students scarcely more, resulting in the expulsion of the five best players of the team. the crisis might have daunted the most resourceful of men, yet anthony had proved equal to it. for twenty-one days he had labored like a real general, spending his nights alone with diagrams and little dummies on a miniature gridiron, his days in careful coaching. he had taken a huge, ungainly nova scotian lad named ringold for centre; he had placed a square-jawed, tow-headed boy from duluth in the line; he had selected a high-strung, unseasoned chap, who for two years had been eating his heart out on the side-lines, and made him into a quarter-back. then he had driven them all with the cruelty of a cossack captain; and when at last the dusk of this november day had settled, new football history had been made. the world had seen a strange team snatch victory from defeat, and not one of all the thirty thousand onlookers but knew to whom the credit belonged. it had been a tremendous spectacle, and when the final whistle blew for the multitude to come roaring down across the field, the cohorts had paid homage to kirk anthony, the weary coach to whom they knew the honor belonged. of course this fervid enthusiasm and hero-worship was all very immature, very foolish, as the general public acknowledged after it had taken time to cool off. yet there was something appealing about it, after all. at any rate, the press deemed the public sufficiently interested in the subject to warrant giving it considerable prominence, and the name of darwin k. anthony's son was published far and wide. naturally, the newspapers gave the young man's story as well as a history of the game. they told of his disagreement with his father; of the anthony anti-football bill which the old man in his rage had driven through the legislature and up to the governor himself. some of them even printed a rehash of the railroad man's famous magazine attack on the modern college, in which he all but cited his own son as an example of the havoc wrought by present-day university methods. the elder anthony's wealth and position made it good copy. the yellow journals liked it immensely, and, strangely enough, notwithstanding the positiveness with which the newspapers spoke, the facts agreed essentially with their statements. darwin k. anthony and his son had quarrelled, they were estranged; the young man did prefer idleness to industry. exactly as the published narratives related, he toiled not at all, he spun nothing but excuses, he arrayed himself in sartorial glory, and drove a yellow racing-car beyond the speed limit. it was all true, only incomplete. kirk anthony's father had even better reasons for his disapproval of the young man's behavior than appeared. the fact was that kirk's associates were of a sort to worry any observant parent, and, moreover, he had acquired a renown in that part of new york lying immediately west of broadway and north of twenty-sixth street which, in his father's opinion, added not at all to the lustre of the family name. in particular, anthony, sr., was prejudiced against a certain higgins, who, of course, was his son's boon companion, aid, and abettor. this young gentleman was a lean, horse-faced senior, whose unbroken solemnity of manner had more than once led strangers to mistake him for a divinity student, though closer acquaintance proved him wholly unmoral and rattle-brained. mr. higgins possessed a distorted sense of humor and a crooked outlook upon life; while, so far as had been discovered, he owned but two ambitions: one to whip a policeman, the other to write a musical comedy. neither seemed likely of realization. as for the first, he was narrow-chested and gangling, while a brief, disastrous experience on the college paper had furnished a sad commentary upon the second. not to exaggerate, darwin k. anthony, the father, saw in the person of adelbert higgins a budding criminal of rare precocity, and a menace to his son; while to the object of his solicitude the aforesaid criminal was nothing more than an entertaining companion, whose bizarre disregard of all established rules of right and wrong matched well with his own careless temper. higgins, moreover, was an ardent follower of athletics, revolving like a satellite about the football stars, and attaching himself especially to kirk, who was too good-natured to find fault with an honest admirer. it was higgins this evening who, after the "cripples" had deserted and the supper party had dwindled to perhaps a dozen, proposed to make a night of it. it was always higgins who proposed to make a night of it, and now, as usual, his words were greeted with enthusiasm. having obtained the floor, he gazed owlishly over the flushed faces around the table and said: "i wish to announce that, in our little journey to the underworld, we will visit some places of rare interest and educational value. first we will go to the house of seven turnings." "no poetry, hig!" some one cried. "what is it?" "it is merely a rendezvous of pickpockets and thieves, accessible only to a chosen few. i feel sure you will enjoy yourselves there, for the bartender has the secret of a remarkable gin fizz, sweeter than a maiden's smile, more intoxicating than a kiss." "piffle!" "it is a place where the student of sociology can obtain a world of valuable information." "how do we get in?" "leave that to old doctor higgins," anthony laughed. "to get out is the difficulty." "oh, i guess we'll get out," said the bulky ringold. "after we have concluded our investigations at the house of seven turnings," continued the ceremonious higgins, "we will go to the palace of ebony, where a full negro orchestra--" "the police closed that a week ago." "but it has reopened on a scale larger and grander than ever." "let's take in the austrian village," offered ringold. "patiently! patiently, behemoth! we'll take 'em all in. however, i wish to request one favor. if by any chance i should become embroiled with a minion of the law, please, oh please, let me finish him." "remember the last time," cautioned anthony. "you've never come home a winner." "enough! away with painful memories! all in favor--" "aye!" yelled the diners, whereupon a stampede ensued that caused the waiters in the main dining-room below to cease piling chairs upon the tables and hastily weight their napkins with salt-cellars. but the crowd was not combative. they poured out upon the street in the best possible humor, and even at the house of seven turnings, as higgins had dubbed the "hide-away" on thirty-second street, they made no disturbance. on the contrary, it was altogether too quiet for most of them, and they soon sought another scene. but there were deserters en route to the palace of ebony, and when in turn the joys of a full negro orchestra had palled and a course was set for the austrian village, the number of investigators had dwindled to a choice half-dozen. these, however, were kindred spirits, veterans of many a midnight escapade, composing a flying squadron of exactly the right proportions for the utmost efficiency and mobility combined. the hour was now past a respectable bedtime and the tenderloin had awakened. the roar of commerce had dwindled away, and the comparative silence was broken only by the clang of an infrequent trolley. the streets were empty of vehicles, except for a few cabs that followed the little group persistently. as yet there was no need of them. the crowd was made up, for the most part, of healthy, full-blooded boys, fresh from weeks of training, strong of body, and with stomachs like galvanized iron. they showed scant evidence of intoxication. as for the weakest member of the party, it had long been known that one drink made higgins drunk, and all further libations merely served to maintain him in status quo. exhaustive experiments had proved that he was able to retain consciousness and the power of locomotion until the first streak of dawn appeared, after which he usually became a burden. for the present he was amply able to take care of himself, and now, although his speech was slightly thick, his demeanor was as didactic and severe as ever, and, save for the vagrant workings of his mind, he might have passed for a curate. as a whole, the crowd was in fine fettle. the austrian village is a saloon, dance-hall, and all-night restaurant, flourishing brazenly within a stone's throw of broadway, and it is counted one of the sights of the city. upon entering, one may pass through a saloon where white-aproned waiters load trays and wrangle over checks, then into a ball-room filled with the flotsam and jetsam of midnight manhattan. above and around this room runs a white-and-gold balcony partitioned into boxes; beneath it are many tables separated from the waxed floor by a railing. inside the enclosure men in street-clothes and smartly gowned girls with enormous hats revolve nightly to the strains of an orchestra which nearly succeeds in drowning their voices. from the tables come laughter and snatches of song; waiters dash hither and yon. it is all very animated and gay on the surface, and none but the closely observant would note the weariness beneath the women's smiles, the laughter notes that occasionally jar, or perceive that the tailored gowns are imitations, the ermines mainly rabbit-skins. but the eyes of youth are not analytical, and seen through a rosy haze the sight was inspiriting. the college men selected a table, and, shouldering the occupants aside without ceremony, seated themselves and pounded for a waiter. padden, the proprietor, came toward them, and, after greeting anthony and higgins by a shake of his left hand, ducked his round gray head in acknowledgment of an introduction to the others. "excuse my right," said he, displaying a swollen hand criss-crossed with surgeon's plaster. "a fellow got noisy last night." "d'jou hit him?" queried higgins, gazing with interest at the proprietor's knuckles. "yes. i swung for his jaw and went high. teeth--" mr. padden said, vaguely. he turned a shrewd eye upon anthony. "i heard about the game to-day. that was all right." kirk grinned boyishly. "i didn't have much to do with it; these are the fellows." "don't believe him," interrupted ringold. "sure! he's too modest," higgins chimed in. "fine fellow an' all that, understand, but he's got two faults--he's modest and he's lazy. he's caused a lot of uneasiness to his father and me. father's a fine man, too." he nodded his long, narrow head solemnly. "we know who did the trick for us," added anderson, the straw-haired half-back. "glad you dropped in," mr. padden assured them. "anything you boys want and can't get, let me know." when he had gone higgins averred: "there's a fine man--peaceful, refined--got a lovely character, too. let's be gentlemen while we're in his place." ringold rose. "i'm going to dance, fellows," he announced, and his companions followed him, with the exception of the cadaverous higgins, who maintained that dancing was a pastime for the frivolous and weak. when they returned to their table they found a stranger was seated with him, who rose as higgins made him known. "boys, meet my old friend, mr. jefferson locke, of st. louis. he's all right." the college men treated this new recruit with a hilarious cordiality, to which he responded with the air of one quite accustomed to such reunions. "i was at the game this afternoon," he explained, when the greetings were over, "and recognized you chaps when you came in. i'm a football fan myself." "you look as if you might have played," said anthony, sizing up the broad frame of the missourian with the critical eye of a coach. "yes. i used to play." "where?" mr. locke avoided answer by calling loudly for a waiter, but when the orders had been taken kirk repeated: "where did you play, mr. locke?" "left tackle." "what university?" "oh one of the southern colleges. it was a freshwater school--you wouldn't know the name." he changed the subject quickly by adding: "i just got into town this morning and i'm sailing to-morrow. i couldn't catch a boat to-day, so i'm having a little blow-out on my own account. when i recognized you all, i just butted in. new york is a lonesome place for a stranger. hope you don't mind my joining you." "not at all!" he was assured. when he came to pay the waiter he displayed a roll of yellow-backed bills that caused anthony to caution him: "if i were you i'd put that in my shoe. i know this place." locke only laughed. "there's more where this came from. however, that's one reason i'd like to stick around with you fellows. i have an idea i've been followed, and i don't care to be tapped on the head. if you will let me trail along i'll foot the bills. that's a fair proposition." "it certainly sounds engaging," cried higgins, joyously. "the sight of that money awakens a feeling of loyalty in our breasts. i speak for all when i say we will guard you like a lily as long as your money lasts, mr. locke." "as long as we last," ringold amended. "it's a bargain," locke agreed. "hereafter i foot the bills. you're my guests for the evening, understand. if you'll agree to keep me company until my ship sails i'll do the entertaining." "oh, come now," anthony struck in. "the fellows are just fooling. you're more than welcome to stay with us if you like, but we can't let you put up for it." "why not? we'll make a night of it. i'll show you how we spend money in st. louis. i'm too nervous to go to bed." anthony protested, insisting that the other should regard himself as the guest of the crowd; but as locke proved obdurate the question was allowed to drop until later, when kirk found himself promoted by tacit consent to the position of host for the whole company. this was a little more than he had bargained for, but the sense of having triumphed in a contest of good-fellowship consoled him. meanwhile, the stranger, despite his avowedly festive spirit, showed a certain reserve. when the music again struck up he declined to dance, preferring to remain with higgins in their inconspicuous corner. "there's a fine fellow," the latter remarked, following his best friend's figure with his eyes, when he and locke were once more alone. "sweet nature." "anthony? yes, he looks it." "he's got just two faults, i always say: he's too modest by far and he's lazy--won't work." "he doesn't have to work. his old man has plenty of coin, hasn't he?" "yes, and he'll keep it, too. heartless old wretch. mr.--what's your name, again?" "locke." "mr. locke." the speaker stared mournfully at his companion. "d'you know what that unnatural parent did?" "no." "he let his only son and heir go to jail." mr. jefferson locke, of st. louis, started; his wandering, watchful eyes flew back to the speaker. "what! jail?" "that's what i remarked. he allowed his own flesh and blood to languish in a loathsome cell." "what for? what did they get him for?" queried the other, quickly. "speeding." "oh!" locke let himself back in his chair. "yes sir, he's a branded felon." "nonsense. that's nothing." "but we love him just the same, criminal though he is" said higgins, showing a disposition to weep. "if he were not such a strong, patient soul it might have ruined his whole life." mr. locke grunted. "s'true! you've no idea the disgrace it is to go to jail." the missourian stirred uneasily. "say, it gets on my nerves to sit still," said he. "let's move around." "patiently! patiently! somebody's sure to start something before long." "well, i don't care to get mixed up in a row." higgins laid a long, white hand upon the speaker's arm. "then stay with us, mr.--locke. if you incline to peace, be one of us. we're a flock of sucking doves." the dancers came crowding up to the table at the moment, and ringold suggested loudly: "i'm hungry; let's eat again." his proposal met with eager response. "where shall we go?" asked anderson. "i just fixed it with padden for a private room upstairs," anthony said. "all the cafes are closed now, and this is the best place in town for chicken creole, anyhow." accordingly he led the way, and the rest filed out after him; but as they left the ball-room a medium-sized man who had recently entered from the street caught a glimpse of them, craned his neck for a better view, then idled along behind. ii the trail divides inspired by his recent rivalry with mr. jefferson locke, anthony played the part of host more lavishly than even the present occasion required. he ordered elaborately, and it was not long before corks were popping and dishes rattling quite as if the young men were really hungry. mr. locke, however, insisted that his friends should partake of a kind of drink previously unheard of, and with this in view had a confidential chat with the waiter, to whom he unostentatiously handed a five-dollar retainer. no one witnessed this unusual generosity except higgins, who commended it fondly; but his remarks went unheeded in the general clamor. the meal was at its noisiest when the man whom locke had so generously tipped spoke to him quietly. whatever his words, they affected the listener strongly. locke's face whitened, then grew muddy and yellow, his hands trembled, his lips went dry. he half arose from his chair, then cast a swift look about the room. his companions were too well occupied, however, to notice this by-play even when the waiter continued, in a low tone: "he slipped me a ten-spot, so i thought it must be something worth while." "he--he's alone, you say?" "seems to be. what shall i do, sir?" locke took something from his pocket and thrust it into the fellow's hand, while the look in his eyes changed to one of desperation. "step outside and wait. don't let him come up. i'll call you in a minute." ringold was recounting his version of the first touchdown--how he had been forced inch by inch across the goal line to the tune of thirty thousand yelling throats and his companions were hanging upon his words, when their new friend interrupted in such a tone that anthony inquired in surprise: "what's wrong, old man? are you sick?" locke shook his head. "i told you fellows i'd been followed this evening. remember? well, there's a man down-stairs who has given the waiter ten dollars to let him have his coat and apron so he can come in here." "what for?" "who is he?" the men stared at the speaker with a sudden new interest. "i'm not sure. i--think it's part of a plan to rob me." he let his gaze roam from one face to another. "you see--i just came into a big piece of coin, and i've got it with me. i'm--i'm alone in new york, understand? they've followed me from st. louis. now, i want you boys to help me dodge this--" kirk anthony rose suddenly, moving as lightly upon his feet as a dancer. "you say he's below?" locke nodded. it was plain that he was quite unnerved. ringold rose in turn and lurched ponderously toward the door, but kirk stepped in front of him with a sharp word: "wait! i'll manage this." "lemme go," expostulated the centre-rush. "locke's a good fellow and this man wants to trim him." "no, no! sit down!" ringold obeyed. "if he wants to join us, we'll have him come up." "what?" cried locke, leaping nervously from his chair. "don't do that. i want to get out of here." "not a bit like it." kirk's eyes were sparkling. "we'll give this fellow the third degree and find out who his pals are." "grand idea!" higgins seconded with enthusiasm. "grand!" "hold on! i can't do that. i've got to sail at ten o'clock. i don't dare get into trouble, don't you understand? it's important." locke seemed in an extraordinary panic. "oh, we'll see that you catch your boat all right," kirk assured him; and then before the other could interfere he rang for the waiter. "give that chap your coat and apron," he ordered, when the attendant answered, "and when i ring next send him up. pass the word to padden and the others not to notice any little disturbance. i'll answer for results." "i'm going to get out," cried the man from st. louis. "he mustn't see me." "he'll see you sure if you leave now. you'll have to pass him. stick here. we'll have some fun." the white-faced man sank back into his chair, while anthony directed sharply: "now, gentlemen, be seated. here, locke, your back to the door--your face looks like a chalk-mine. there! now don't be so nervous--we'll cure this fellow's ambition as a gin-slinger. i'll change names with you for a minute. now, ringold, go ahead with your story." then, as the giant took up his tale again: "listen to him, fellows; look pleasant, please. remember you're not sitting up with a corpse. a little more ginger, ringie. good!" he pushed the button twice, and a moment later the door opened quietly to admit a medium-sized man in white coat and apron. had the young men been a little less exhilarated they might have suspected that locke's story of having been dogged from st. louis was a trifle exaggerated; for, instead of singling him out at first glance, the new-comer paused at a respectful distance inside the door and allowed his eyes to shift uncertainly from one to another as if in doubt as to which was his quarry. anthony did not dream that it was his own resemblance to the missourian that led to this confusion, but in fact, while he and locke were totally unlike when closely compared, they were of a similar size and coloring, and the same general description would have fitted both. having allowed the intruder a moment in which to take in the room, kirk leaned back in his chair and nodded for him to approach. "cigars!" he ordered. "bring a box of carolinas." "yes, sir. are you mr. locke, sir?" inquired the new waiter. "yes," said kirk. "telephone message for you, mr. locke," the waiter muttered. "what's that?" anthony queried, loud enough for the others to hear. "somebody calling you by 'phone. they're holding the wire outside. i'll show you the booth." "oh, will you?" kirk anthony's hands suddenly shot out and seized the masquerader by the throat. the man uttered a startled gasp, but simultaneously the iron grip of marty ringold fell upon his arms and doubled them behind him, while kirk gibed: "you'll get me outside and into a telephone booth, eh? my dear sir, that is old stuff." the rest of the party were on their feet instantly, watching the struggle and crowding forward with angry exclamations. ringold, with the man's two wrists locked securely in his own huge paw, was growling: "smooth way to do up a fellow, i call it." "all the way from st. louis for a telephone call, eh?" anthony sank his thumbs into the stranger's throat, then, as the man's face grew black and his contortions diminished, added: "we're going to make a good waiter out of you." jefferson locke broke in excitedly: "choke him good! choke him! that's right. put him out for keeps. for god's sake, don't let him go!" but it was not kirk's idea to strangle his victim beyond a certain point. he relaxed his grip after a moment and, nodding to ringold to do likewise, took the fellow's wrists himself, then swung him about until he faced the others. the man's lungs filled with fresh air, he began to struggle once more, and when his voice had returned he gasped: "i'll get you for this. you'll do a trick--" he mumbled a name that did not sound at all like jefferson locke, whereupon the missourian made a rush at him that required the full strength of anthony's free hand to thwart. "here, stand back! i've got him!" "i'll kill him!" chattered the other. "let me go," the stranger gasped. "i'll take you all in. i'm an officer." "it's a lie!" shouted locke. "he's a thief." "i tell you i'm--an officer; i arrest this--" the words were cut off abruptly by a loud exclamation from higgins and a crash of glass. kirk anthony's face was drenched, his eyes were filled with a stinging liquid; he felt his prisoner sink limply back into his arms and beheld higgins struggling in the grasp of big marty ringold, the foil-covered neck of a wine bottle in his fingers. the foolish fellow had been hovering uncertainly round the edges of the crowd, longing to help his friends and crazily anxious to win glory by some deed of valor. at the first opening he had darted wildly into the fray, not realizing that the enemy was already helpless in the hands of his captors. "i've got him!" he cried, joyously. "he's out!' "higgins!" anthony exclaimed, sharply. "what the devil--" then the dead weight in his arms, the lolling head and sagging jaw of the stranger, sobered him like a deluge of ice-water. "you've done it this time," he muttered. "good god!" locke cried. "let's get away! he's hurt!" "here, you!" anthony shot a command at the speaker that checked him half-way across the room. "ringold, take the door and don't let anybody in or out." to higgins he exclaimed, "you idiot, didn't you see i had his hands?" "no. had to get him," returned higgins, with vinous dignity. "wanted to rob my old friend, mr.--what's his name?" "we've got to leave quick before we get in bad," locke reiterated, nervously, but anthony retorted: "we're in bad now. i want padden." he stepped to the door and signaled a passing waiter. a moment later the proprietor knocked, and ringold admitted him. "what's the--" padden started at sight of the motionless figure on the floor, and, kneeling beside it, made a quick examination, while anthony explained the circumstances leading up to the assault. "thief, eh? i see." "is he badly hurt?" queried locke, bending a pale face upon them. "huh! i guess he's due for the hospital," the owner of the austrian village announced. "he had his nerve, trying to turn a trick in my place. i thought i knew all the dips, but he's a stranger." with nimble fingers he ran through the fellow's pockets, then continued: "i'm glad you got him, but you'd better get together and rehearse before the police--" he stopped abruptly once more, then looked up curiously. "what is it?" questioned the man from missouri. padden pointed silently to the lapel of the fellow's vest, which he had turned back. a nickeled badge was pinned upon it. "he's no thief; he's a detective--a plain-clothes man!" "wha'd i tell you!" higgins exulted. "i can smell 'em!" the crowd looked nonplussed, with the exception of jefferson locke, who became calmer than at any time since the waiter had first whispered into his ear. "we didn't know who he was," he began, hurriedly, "you must square it for us, padden. i don't care what it costs." he extended a bulky roll of bank-notes toward the gray-haired man. "these boys can't stand this sort of thing, and neither can i. i've got to sail at ten o'clock this morning." "looks to me like you've croaked him," said the proprietor, ignoring the proffered money. "it's worth a thousand dollars to me not to miss my boat." "wait a minute." padden emptied the unconscious man's pockets, among other things of some telegrams and a legally folded paper. the latter he opened and scanned swiftly, then turned his little eyes upon locke without a word, whereupon that gentleman, with equal silence, took from his inside pocket a wallet, and selected a bill, the denomination of which he displayed to the proprietor before folding it inside the bundle he held. "here! it may cost you something." padden nodded and accepted the money, saying: "oh, i guess i can fix it. i know the right doctor." he regained his feet, then warned the onlookers: "but you'll have to keep your traps closed, understand?" "will he die?" asked ringold, fearfully, his back still against the door. "not a chance. but if he does he'll never know who hit him. you see, we picked him up in the alley and brought him in." padden winked meaningly. "it happens right along in this part of town. do you get me? i'll keep these." he indicated the badge and papers in his hand. "now go out as if nothing had come off. drop in again the next time you're in town. i'll take care of the supper checks." as the partly sobered visitors struggled into their overcoats padden drew locke aside, and, nodding toward higgins, who was still talkative, said: "if you want to catch that ten o'clock boat you'd better stick close to your friend; i know him." "thanks!" locke glanced at the prostrate figure, then inquired in a low tone: "on the level, will he make it?" "hard to tell. just the same, if i was you i'd change my sailing--he might come to." "you chaps have done me a big favor to-night," said locke, a little later, when he and his companions were safely out of the austrian village, "and i won't forget it, either. now let's finish the evening the way we began it." anderson, rankin, and burroughs, to conceal their nervousness, pleaded bodily fatigue, while anthony also declared that he had enjoyed himself sufficiently for one night and intended to go home and to bed. "that episode rather got on my nerves," he acknowledged. "mine, too," assented locke. "that's why you mustn't leave me. i just won't let you. remember, you agreed to see me off." "'s'right, fellows," higgins joined in. "we agreed to put him aboard and we must do it. don't break up the party, kirk." "i don't want to go home," ringold muttered. "it's a breach of hospitality to go home," higgins insisted. "besides, after my bloody 'ncounter with that limb of the law i need a stimulant. you must look after me." "i shall tuck you in your little bed," kirk told him. but higgins would hear to nothing of the sort, protesting that he was in honor bound to conduct his old friend locke to the steamer, and anthony feared that without his protection some harm might befall his irresponsible and impulsive companion. candor requires it to be said that he did hesitate, arguing long with the limp-legged higgins; but locke was insistent, the others grew impatient of the delay, and in the end he allowed himself to be persuaded. it is often through just such sudden, inconsequent decisions, influenced perhaps by the merest trifles, that a man's life is made great or small; just such narrow forkings of the trail may divert him into strange adventurings, or into worlds undreamed of. kirk anthony, twenty-six years old, with a heritage at hand, and with an average capacity for good or evil, chose the turning that led him swiftly from the world he knew into an alien land. numbed as they were by the excesses of the evening, it did not take the young men long to lose all clear and vivid remembrance of this recent experience; for the time had come when nature was offering her last resistance, and their brains were badly awhirl. of all the four, jefferson locke was the only one who retained his wits to the fullest--a circumstance that would have proved him the owner of a remarkably steady head had it not been for the fact that he had cunningly substituted water for gin each time it came his turn to drink. it was a commentary upon the state of his companions that they did not notice the limpid clearness of his beverage. dawn found them in an east side basement drinking-place frequented by the lowest classes. ringold was slumbering peacefully, half overflowing the wet surface of a table; anthony had discovered musical talent in the bartender and was seated at a battered piano, laboriously experimenting with the accompaniment to an irish ballad; higgins and locke were talking earnestly. it was the slackest, blackest hour in an all-night dive; the nocturnal habitues had slunk away, and the day's trade had not yet begun. higgins, drawn and haggard beneath his drunken flush, was babbling incessantly; locke, as usual, sat facing the entrance, his eyes watchful, his countenance alert. in spite of the fact that he had constantly plied his companion with liquor in the hope of stilling his tongue, higgins seemed incapable of silence, and kept breaking forth into loud, garbled recitals of the scene at padden's, which caused the missourian to shiver with apprehension. to a sober eye it would have been patent that locke was laboring under some strong excitement; for every door that opened caused him to start, every stranger that entered made him quake. he consulted his watch repeatedly, he flushed and paled and fidgeted, then lost himself in frowning meditation. "grandes' fellow i ever met," higgins was saying for the hundredth time. "got two faults, tha's all; he's modesht an' he's lazy--he won't work." "anthony?" "yes." locke stirred himself, and, leaning forward, said: "you and he are good friends, eh?" "best ever." "would you like to play a joke on him?" "joke? can't be done. he's wises' guy ever. i've tried it an' always get the wors' of it. yes, sir, he's wise guy. jus' got two faults: he won't work an'--" "look here! why don't you make him work?" "huh?" higgins turned a pair of bleared, unfocusable eyes upon the speaker. "why don't somebody make him work?" the lean-faced youth laughed moistly. "tha's good joke." "i mean it." "got too much money. 's old man puts up reg'lar." "listen! it's a shame for a fine fellow like him to go to the dogs." higgins nodded heavily in agreement. "why don't you send him away where he'll have to rustle? that's the joke i meant." "huh?" again the listener's mind failed to follow, and locke repeated his words, concluding: "it would make a new man of him." "oh, he wouldn't work. too lazy." "he'd have to if he were broke." "but he ain't broke. didn't i tell you 's old man puts up reg'lar? fine man, too, misser anthony; owns railroads." "i'll tell you how we can work it. i've got a ticket for central america in my pocket. the boat sails at ten. let's send him down there." "wha' for?" locke kept his temper with an effort. "to make a man of him. we'll go through his clothes and when he lands he'll be broke. he'll have to work. don't you see?" "no." anthony's friend did not see. "he don't want to go to central america," he argued; "he's got a new autom'bile." "but suppose we got him soused, went through his pockets, and then put him aboard the boat. he'd be at sea by the time he woke up; he couldn't get back; he'd have to work; don't you see? he'd be broke when he landed and have to rustle money to get back with. i think it's an awful funny idea." the undeniable humor of such a situation finally dawned upon higgins's mind, and he burst into a loud guffaw. "hey there! shut up!" anthony called from the piano. "listen here! i've found the lost chord." he bore down with his huge hands upon the yellow keyboard, bringing forth a metallic crash that blended fearfully with the bartender's voice. "it's a great discovery." "i'll get him full if you'll help manage him," locke went on. "and here's the ticket." he tapped his pocket. "where'd you get it?" "bought it yesterday. it's first class and better, and he'll fit my description. we're about the same size." "ain't you goin'?" "no. i've changed my mind. i may jump over to paris. come, are you on?" higgins giggled. "darn' funny idea, if you can get him full." "wait." locke rose and went to the bar, where he called loudly for the singer; then, when the bartender had deserted the piano, he spoke to anthony: "keep it up, old man, you're doing fine." for some moments he talked earnestly to the man behind the bar; but his back was to higgins, anthony was occupied, and ringold still slumbered; hence no one observed the transfer of another of those yellow bills of which he seemed to have an unlimited store. strangely enough, mr. jefferson locke's plan worked without a hitch. within ten minutes after kirk anthony had taken the drink handed him he declared himself sleepy, and rose from the piano, only to seek a chair, into which he flung himself heavily. "it's all right," locke told his drunken companion. "i've got a taxi waiting. we'll leave ringold where he is." twenty-four hours later adelbert higgins undertook to recall what had happened to him after he left muller's place on east fourteenth street, but his memory was tricky. he recollected a vaguely humorous discussion of some sort with a stranger, the details of which were almost entirely missing. he remembered that dawn had broken when he came out of the saloon, but beyond that he could not go with any degree of certainty. there was a hazy memory of an interminable ride in a closed vehicle of some sort, a dizzy panorama of moving buildings, bleak, wind-swept trees, frosty meadows, and land-locked lakes backed by what were either distant mountain ranges or apartment houses. this last, however, was all very blurred and indistinct. as to who was with him on the ride, or what took place thereafter, he had no memory and no opportunity of learning, owing to certain unexpected and alarming occurrences which made it imperative for him to terminate his connection with his college, as big marty ringold had done earlier in the day, and begin to pack his belongings. partly out of deference to the frantic appeals of his widowed mother, partly owing to the telephoned advice of mr. michael padden, of sixth avenue, who said the injured man had recognized one of his assailants, he booked passage to japan by the next steamer out of vancouver. he left new york that afternoon by the twentieth century limited, taking with him only one suit-case and a determination to see the world. iii a gap strictly speaking, kirk anthony did not awake to a realization of his surroundings, but became conscious of them through a long process of dull, dreamy speculation. he never knew the precise moment when his eyes opened and sleep left him, but at cost of considerable mental effort he finally brought himself to the conviction that hours had passed and another day had arrived. more than once after long, white nights in new york city, he had awakened amid strange surroundings and had been forced to wait upon his lagging memory; but this time his mind refused to work, even after he knew himself to be fully roused. so he closed his eyes with the admonition: "now, begin all over again, kirk. when you left padden's place you went to maxim's and listened to the fat quartette, then to the place where the waiter held out a dollar. after the trouble at that point, you tried to get into tony's rathskeller and couldn't, so you started for the east side. ringold was very drunk. good! everything is clear so far. next you were playing a piano with yellow teeth while somebody sang something about a 'little brown cot.' after that--lord, you must have been drinking! well, let's run through it again." but his efforts were vain; he could recall nothing beyond the piano, so fell to wondering what hotel this could be. "some east side joint," he decided, "and a cheap one too, from the size of this stall." he noted another brass bed close at hand and reasoned that ringold or higgins must have risen early, leaving him to finish his sleep. that was considerate, of course, but--good heavens, it must be late! and he was due to motor to new haven at noon! he raised himself suddenly, and was half out of bed when he fell back, with a cry, as if an unseen hand had smitten him. he clapped both palms to his head, realizing that he was very sick indeed. the sensation was unlike anything he had ever felt before. his head was splitting, he felt a frightful nausea, the whole room was rocking and reeling as if to pitch him out of bed. it was terrible; so he arose blindly and felt his way toward the telephone. failing to find it, he pushed a button instead, then tumbled back to bed, reviling the luck that had brought him to such a miserable place. he closed his eyes tightly and calmed his stomach by an effort of will. at last he heard the door open and a voice inquire: "did you ring, sir?" "an hour ago. haven't you more than one bell-hop in this place?" "i'm sorry, sir." "and i'm sick, mighty sick. i'm going to die." "i think not, sir; the others are sick, too." "that's good! i was afraid they'd dressed and gone." it was some consolation to know that ringold and higgins had not escaped their share of suffering. "how is hig--the bony fellow?" "do you mean the gentleman in thirty-two?" "how should i know his number? that's not hig's description, however--even you could tell that he is no gentle--oh, lord!" "can i get you something, sir--a little champagne, perhaps, to settle your stomach?" "no, no! get me a taxicab. i want to go up-town." "rather a long drive, isn't it?" snickered the bell-boy. "never mind the comedy." anthony opened his eyes. "hello! are you the clerk?" instead of the bell-hop he had expected he beheld a man in white jacket and black trousers. "no, sir, i'm the steward." the invalid shook his head faintly. "funny place i've got into. what's the name of it?" "this? oh! the santa cruz." "never heard of it. why didn't they give me a good room? this is fierce." "suite a is considered very good, sir. it is one of the best on the line." "line?" kirk grunted. "so this is some dead-line dump. well, i'm going to get out--understand? hand me my trousers and i'll slip you a quarter." the steward did as desired, but a blind search showed the pockets to be empty. "give me the coat and vest." but here again kirk found nothing, and was forced to apologize. "sorry, old man, but i must have left it at the office. now be a good fellow and hustle up that taxi. i'm getting sicker every minute." "perhaps you had better have the doctor?" "is there a good one handy?" "yes, sir." "here in the hotel?" the steward seemed undecided whether to treat the occupant of suite a as a humorist or a lunatic, but finally he observed, "this isn't a hotel, sir." "that's what i though-t-more like a roadhouse," "this is a ship." "a--what?" anthony raised himself and stared at the white-clad figure over the foot of his little brass bed. "this is a ship, sir." "you get out of here!" yelled the infuriated young man. he cast his eyes about for some missile to hurl at this insolent menial, and, spying a heavy glass pitcher upon a stand beside him, reached for it, whereat the steward retreated hastily to the door. "i beg pardon, sir. i will send the doctor at once." "must think i'm still drunk," mumbled anthony, dazedly, as he once more laid his head upon his pillow with a groan. when his dizziness had diminished sufficiently to permit him to open his eyes he scanned his surroundings more carefully; but his vision was unreliable. his head, too, continued to feel as if his skull were being forcibly spread apart by some fiendish instrument concealed within it. his mouth was parched, his stomach violently rebellious. in spite of these distractions he began to note certain unfamiliar features about this place. the wall-paper, for instance, which at first glance he had taken for the work of some cheap decorator, turned out to be tapestry, as he proved by extending a shaky hand. the low ceiling, the little windows with wooden blinds, the furniture itself, were all out of keeping with hotel usages. he discovered by rolling his head that there was a mahogany dresser over by the door and a padded couch covered with chintz. there were folding brass clothes-hooks on the wall, moreover, and an electric fan, while a narrow door gave him a glimpse of a tiny, white-enamelled bath-room. he took in these details laboriously, deciding finally that he was too intoxicated to see aright, for, while the place was quite unlike an ordinary hotel room, neither did it resemble any steamship stateroom he had ever seen; it was more like a lady's boudoir. to be sure, he felt a sickening surge and roll now and then, but at other times the whole room made a complete revolution, which was manifestly contrary to the law of gravitation and therefore not to be trusted as evidence. there were plenty of reasons, moreover, why this could not be a ship. the mere supposition was absurd. no, this must be a room in some up-town club, or perhaps a bachelor hotel. kirk had many friends with quarters decorated to suit their own peculiar fancies, and he decided that in all probability one of these had met him on the street and taken him home for safe-keeping. he had barely settled this in his mind when the door opened for a second time and a man in uniform entered. "the steward said you wanted me," he began. "no; i want a doctor." "i am the doctor." "i thought you were the elevator man. i'm sick--awful sick--" "can you vomit?" "certainly! anybody can do that." the stranger pulled up a stool, seated himself beside the bed, then felt of anthony's cheek. "you have a fever." "that explains everything." kirk sighed thankfully and closed his eyes once more, for the doctor had begun to revolve slowly, with the bed as an axis. "how are the other boys coming on?" "everybody is laid out. it's a bad night." "night? it must be nearly daylight by this time." "oh no! it is not midnight yet." "not midnight? why, i didn't turn in until--" anthony raised himself suddenly. "good lord! have i slept all day?" "you certainly have." "whose room is this?" "your room, of course. here, take one of these capsules; it will settle your stomach." "better give me something to settle my bill if i've been here that long. i'm broke again." "you're not fully awake yet," said the doctor. "people have funny ideas when they're sick." "well, i know i'm broke, anyhow! that's no idea; it's a condition. i went through my clothes just now and i'm all in. i must get back to the astor, too, for i had arranged to motor up to new haven at noon." "let me feel your pulse," said the doctor, quietly. "the boys will think i'm lost. i never did such a thing before." "where do you think you are?" inquired the physician. "i don't know. it's a nice little hotel, but--" "this isn't a hotel. this is a ship." anthony was silent for a moment. then he sighed feebly and said: "doctor, you shouldn't make fun of a man at the point of death. it isn't professional." "fact," said the doctor, abstractedly gazing at his watch, while he held anthony's wrist between his fingers. "we are one hundred and fifty miles out of new york. the first officer told me you were considerably intoxicated when you came aboard, but," he continued brusquely, rising and closing his watch with a snap, "you will remember it all in a little while, mr. locke." "what did you call me?" "locke. you haven't forgotten your name, too?" "wait!" again anthony pressed his throbbing temples with both hot hands and strove to collect his whirling wits. at last he began to speak, measuring his words with care. "now, i know you are wrong, doctor, and i'll tell you why. you see, my name isn't locke; it's anthony. locke went away on a ship, but _i_ stayed in new york; understand? well, he's the fellow you're talking to and i'm asleep somewhere down around the bowery. i'm not here at all. _i_ didn't want to go anywhere on a ship; i couldn't go; i didn't have the price. that supper was a hundred and seventy." "nevertheless, this is a ship," the physician patiently explained, "and you're on it and i'm talking to you. what is more, you have not exchanged identities with your friend anthony, for your ticket reads 'jefferson locke.' you'll be all right if you will just go to sleep and give that capsule a chance to operate." "ask higgins or ringold who i am." "there's no one aboard by either of those names." "say!" anthony raised himself excitedly on one arm, but was forced to lie down again without delay. "if this is a ship, i must have come aboard. how did i do it? when? where?" "you came on with two men, or rather between two men, about eight-thirty this morning. they put you in here, gave your ticket to the purser, and went ashore. the slim fellow was crying, and one of the deck-hands had to help him down the gangway." "that was higgins all right. now, doctor, granting, just for the sake of argument, that this is a ship and that i am jefferson locke, when is your next stop?" "one week." "what?" kirk's eyes opened wide with horror. "i can't stay here a week." "you will have to." "but i tell you i can't, i just can't. i bought a new car the other day and it's standing in front of the new york theatre. yes, and i have two rooms and a bath at the astor, at fifteen dollars a day." the physician smiled heartlessly. "you must have been drinking pretty heavily, but i guess you will remember everything by-and-by." "i can't understand it," groaned the bewildered invalid. "what ship is this--if it is really a ship?" "the santa cruz. belongs to the united fruit company. this is one of the bridal suites; it is : p.m., november st. we are bound for colon." "where is that?" "panama." "panama is in central america or mexico or somewhere, isn't it?" "it is. now, do you remember anything more?" "not a thing." "well, then, go to sleep. you'll be all right in the morning, mr. locke." "anthony." "very well, mr. anthony, if you prefer. is there anything more you would like to ask me?" "no." "of course, there may have been some mistake," the medical man observed, doubtfully, as he opened the door. "maybe you intended to take some other ship?" "no mistake at all," the sick man assured him. "i'm beginning to remember now. you see, i lost my hat and decided i'd run down to panama and get another. good-night." "good-night. that capsule will make you sleep." when the officer had gone kirk mumbled to himself: "if it turns out that i am in new york, after all, when i wake up i'll lick that doctor." then he turned over and fell asleep. but morning showed him the truth of the doctor's information. he awoke early and, although his head still behaved queerly and he had moments of nausea, he dressed himself and went on deck. the shock he had received on the evening before was as nothing to what he felt now upon stepping out into the light of day. in spite of his growing conviction, he had cherished a lingering hope that it was all a dream, and the feeling did not entirely vanish until he had really seen for himself. then his dismay was overwhelming. a broad deck, still wet from its morning scrubbing and lined with steamer chairs, lay in front of him. a limitless, oily sea stretched out before his bewildered eyes; he touched the rail with his hands to verify his vision. the strangeness of it was uncanny. he felt as if he were walking in his sleep. he realized that a great fragment had suddenly dropped out of his life's pattern, and it was intensely disquieting to think of all it might have carried with it. he began to pace the deck mechanically, falling in with the other early risers who were out for a breath of morning air, striving to adjust himself to this new state of affairs. but even though the solid reality of his surroundings soon brought him back more nearly to a normal state of mind, he felt an ever-present expectancy of some new shock, some new and abrupt transition that might yet bring him back to his starting-point. but this obsession gradually left him, as the brisk sea breeze brought him to a proper perspective and braced him to face the full consequences of his long, restless night's orgy. no man is so systematic, none is so well ordered in his affairs, that he can cut out a slice of his life at a moment's notice without suffering many kinds of loss and inconvenience. although anthony was a youth of few responsibilities, he awoke suddenly to the fact that there were a thousand things that needed doing, a thousand people who needed to know his whereabouts, a thousand things that were bound to go wrong. for instance, there was his brand-new french car, standing with motor blanketed beside the forty-fifth street curb. what had happened to it, and to the urchin he had left in charge of it? he owed a thousand dollars on its purchase, which he had promised to pay yesterday. then, too, he had neglected his house account at the university club, and it was long overdue. that remittance from his father had come just in the nick of time. suddenly he recalled placing the check in his bill-case, and he searched himself diligently, but found nothing. that reminded him that he had won a bet or two on the football game and the money needed collecting. there was the shooting trip to cape cod as well. he was due there to-day for a week-end among the geese and brant. what would benny glover think when he failed to show up or even telegraph? benny's sister was coming down from boston with some friends and--oh, it was simply imperative that he get some word ashore. he let his eyes rove over the ship in desperation, then a happy thought came to him. "the wireless!" he said aloud. "bonehead! why didn't you think of that long ago?" a glance at the rigging showed him that the santa cruz was equipped with a plant, and a moment later he was hammering at the operator's door. "i want to send a message right away!" he cried, excitedly; but the "wireless" shook his head with a smile. "i'm sorry, but--" "it's important; awfully important. i'll pay you anything!" kirk rammed a hand mechanically into his empty pocket. "we're installing a new system," said the operator. "the old apparatus wasn't satisfactory and it's being changed throughout." "then you-you can't send a message--possibly?" "nothing doing until the next trip." kirk strode forward and stared disconsolately down upon the freight deck in a vain endeavor to collect his thoughts. how in the devil had he managed to get into this mess? could it be one of higgins's senseless pranks, or was there something deeper, more sinister behind it? he recalled the incidents of that wild night and began to have a disquieting doubt. did that chance meeting with the chap from st. louis have anything to do with his presence here, or had he really decided in some foolish, drunken whim to take a trip to central america? he hardly knew what to think or where to begin his reasoning. he recollected that jefferson locke had not impressed him very favorably at the start, and that his behavior upon the appearance of the plain-clothes man had not improved that first impression. it seemed certain that he must have had his hand in this affair, else how would anthony now find himself in possession of his ticket? what had become of the rightful occupant of suite a? what had become of higgins's unfortunate victim with the cracked head? what did it all signify? kirk sighed disconsolately and gave it up. in five days more he would learn the answer, anyhow, for there must be a cable from panama to the states. meanwhile, he supposed he must reconcile himself to his condition. but it was tough to have two weeks of valuable time snatched out of his eventful life. it was maddening. iv new acquaintances the sound of a bugle, which kirk interpreted as an invitation to breakfast, reminded him that he was famished, and he lost no time in going below. upon his appearance the steward made it plain to him in some subtle manner that the occupant of suite a needed nothing beyond the mere possession of those magnificent quarters to insure the most considerate treatment. kirk was placed at the captain's table, where his hunger was soon appeased, and his outlook grew more cheerful with the complete restoration of bodily comfort. feeling somewhat less dissatisfied with his surroundings, he began to study the faces of his fellow-passengers. "getting your sea legs, mr. locke?" inquired the man at his right. "my name is anthony." "i beg your pardon! the passenger list said--" "that was a mistake." "my name is stein. may i ask where you are bound for?" "i think the place is panama." "going to work on the canal?" "what canal? oh, of course! now i remember hearing something about a panama canal. is that where it is?" "that's the place," stein replied, dryly. "i'm not going to work. i don't work--don't know how." "i see. pleasure trip?" "purely a pleasure trip. i'm having a great time. by-the-way, this canal affair is something new, isn't it?" "it was begun about thirty years ago." mr. stein regarded the speaker with puzzled inquiry, as if undecided in what spirit to take him. "what's the idea? why don't they finish it up?" "i thought you were an american," returned the other, politely. "you have no accent." "i am an american. i'm the fellow who was born in albany, new york. if you look on the map you'll find the town has a little ring around it." "and really don't you know anything about the panama canal?" "oh, i've heard it mentioned." "well, you won't hear anything else mentioned down here; it's the one and only subject of conversation. nobody thinks or talks or dreams about anything except the canal. everybody works on it or else works for somebody who does. for instance, that white-haired man at the other end of the table is colonel bland, one of the commissioners. the man over there with the black beard is one of the engineers at gatun." stein, who seemed a gossipy person, ran on glibly for a time, pointing out the passengers of note and giving brief details about them. suddenly he laid his hand on anthony's arm, and said: "see this fellow coming down the stairs?" anthony beheld a slender, bald-headed man of youthful appearance. "that is stephen cortlandt. you've heard of the cortlandts?" "sure! one of them pitched for the cubs." "i mean the cortlandts of washington. they're swell people, society folks and all that--" he broke off to bow effusively to the late comer, who seated himself opposite; then he introduced kirk. mr. cortlandt impressed anthony as a cold-blooded, highly schooled person, absolutely devoid of sentiment. his face was stony, his eyes were cool, even his linen partook of his own unruffled calm. he seemed by no means effeminate, yet he was one of those immaculate beings upon whom one can scarcely imagine a speck of dust or a bead of perspiration. his hair--what was left of it--was parted to a nicety, his clothes were faultless, and he had an air of quiet assurance. "by-the-way, we're getting up a pool on the ship's run," stein told his new acquaintance. "would you like to join?" "yes, indeed. i'm for anything in the line of chance." "very well. i'll see you in the smoking-room later. it will cost you only five dollars." kirk suddenly recalled his financial condition and hastened to say, a trifle lamely: "come to think about it, i believe i'll stay out. i never gamble." chancing to glance up at the moment, he found mr. cortlandt's eyes fixed upon him with a peculiarly amused look, and a few minutes later he followed mr. stein to the deck above. once in his own stateroom, the young man began a thorough exploration, realizing more keenly than before that without baggage or money his plight might prove distressing. but, look as he would, he could find no trace of either, and an inadvertent glance in the mirror betrayed the further fact that his linen was long since past a presentable stage. another despairing search showed that even his watch was gone and that his only asset, evidently overlooked by the hilarious higgins and his co-partner in crime, was a modest three-stone finger ring. he was regarding this speculatively when the purser knocked, then entered at his call. "i've just heard that there's a mistake about your ticket," the new-comer began. "it is made out to 'mr. jefferson locke,' but the doctor says you insist your name is something else." "that's right. my name is anthony." "then how did i get this ticket?" "i'm sure i don't know." "have you any baggage?" "i don't know." "what is your destination?" "i don't know. you'll pardon my limited vocabulary?" "are you joking?" "do i look as if i were?" "but i don't understand." "neither do i. but i must have some luggage--a fellow wouldn't make a trip like this without baggage, would he?" "i should think not. i'll look it up for you if you wish. but about this ticket--" "my dear man, don't bother me with that. i have worries enough as it is. what i want now is a clean shirt and collar." "yes, but this ticket says--" "please! look at my linen. i'll create a scandal this way." "mr. locke--" "anthony." "very well, mr. anthony. i must straighten out this ticket affair. really, i must." "all right, straighten away." "if you are not mr. locke, it is no good." "hurrah! put me off." "you don't understand--the ticket is good, but--see here, there's something mighty strange about this. you say your name isn't locke, you have no baggage, you even thought this ship was a hotel--" "i did. it was a great disappointment. and now i want a shirt." anthony began to laugh. "funny, isn't it?" "you will have to buy another ticket," said the purser, with dignity. "a bright idea!" kirk smiled grimly; then, turning his pockets wrong side out, continued lightly: "you look me over and if you can find the price of a ticket i'll give you half." "then you have lost your money as well as your baggage and your identity?" "so it would seem." "impossible!" it was plain that the officer was growing angry, so kirk made haste to say: "now let's be friends, at least. by-the-way--pardon the personal nature of the question--but--what size shirt do you wear?" "seventeen." "saved! let me have about six, will you?" "certainly not," returned the other. "i need all i have." "miser! then you must help me find some one my size." the purser, however, seemed in no mood to go shirt-hunting, and backed out of the door, saying: "i'll have a look for your baggage, mr.--anthony, and i'll see the captain about this ticket, also. i don't know whether you're making fun of me or not, but--i'll look you up later." he departed, shaking his head as if this were a form of insanity he had never before encountered. a moment later kirk followed him and made a round of the deck, staring at each man he met and mentally estimating the girth of his neck; but it seemed that the male passengers of the santa cruz were all of medium size, and he saw no one whose appearance held out the slightest hope. he did observe one fellow whose neck seemed as large as his own, but the man looked surly and not too cleanly, and kirk was not yet desperate enough to bring himself to the point of approaching such a fellow for such a favor. he thought of appealing directly to the captain, but promptly remembered that he was a small, wiry man whose wardrobe could by no possible chance afford him relief. at last he made his way toward the smoking-room, determined to enlist the help of his new acquaintance, stein. midway aft, he paused. a girl had emerged from the deck-house ahead of him, whose appearance was sufficiently striking to divert him, momentarily at least, from his quest. she was well above the usual height, quite slender, yet of an exquisite rounded fulness, while her snug-fitting tailor-made gown showed the marks of a redfern or a paquin. he noted, also, that her stride was springy and athletic and her head well carried. feeling that friendly approval with which one recognizes a member of his own kind, kirk let his eyes follow her, then retraced his way around the deck in the hope of meeting her face to face. a woman frequently betrays her beauty by the poise of her head, by the turn of her neck, or the lines of her figure, just as truly as by a full glimpse of her features. hence it was that anthony felt a certain pleasurable expectancy as he crossed in front of the deck-house, realizing that she was approaching. but when they had met and passed he went his way vaguely disappointed. instead of a girl, as the first sight of her youthful figure had led him to expect, he had seen a woman of perhaps forty. there was little in her countenance to reveal her age except a certain settled look that does not go with girlhood, and, while no one could have thought her plain, she was certainly not so handsome as he had imagined from a distance. yet the face was attractive. the eyes were wide-set, gray, and very clear, the mouth large enough to be expressive. her hair shone in the morning sun with a delicate bronze lustre like that of a turkey's wing. it did not add to the young man's comfort to realize that her one straight, casual glance in passing had taken him in from his soiled collar to his somewhat extreme patent leathers with the tan tops and pearl buttons. being very young himself and of limited social experience, he classed all women as either young or old--there was no middle ground. so he dismissed her from his thoughts and continued his search for a number seventeen shirt, and collar to match. but he did not fare well. he found mr. stein in the smoking-room, but discovered that his size was fifteen and a half; and there was no one else to whom he could apply. for a second time stein importuned him to buy a chance on the ship's run, and, failing in this, suggested that they have a drink together. had not kirk realized in time his inability to reciprocate he would have accepted eagerly, for his recent dissipation had left him curiously weak and nervous. at the cost of an effort, however, he refused. it was a rare experience for him to refuse anything, being, like many indolent youths, an accomplished guest. in fact, he was usually as ready to accept favors as he was carelessly generous when he happened to be in funds. the technique of receiving comes to some people naturally; others cannot assume an obligation without giving offence. kirk was one of the former. yet now he felt a sudden, strange hesitancy and a self-consciousness that made graceful acquiescence impossible. he continued firm, therefore, even when stein gibed at him good-humoredly: "i suppose it's against your principles to drink, as well as to gamble?" "exactly." "that's good, after the way you came aboard." "how did i come aboard?" "oh, i didn't see you, but i heard about it." kirk flushed uncomfortably, muttering: "the acoustics of this ship are great. a man can't fall asleep but what somebody hears it." stein laughed: "don't get sore; all ships are alike--we have to talk about something. sorry i can't help you with the shirt question. deuced careless of them to lose your luggage." "yes! it makes one feel about as comfortable as a man with a broken arm and the prickly heat. something's got to be done about it, that's all." he glared enviously at the well-dressed men about the room. over in a corner, propped against the leather upholstery, was mr. cortlandt, as pale, as reserved, and as saturnine as at breakfast. he was sipping scotch-and-soda, and in all the time that anthony remained he did not speak to a soul save the waiter, did not shift his position save to beckon for another drink. something about his sour, introspective aloofness displeased the onlooker, who shortly returned to the deck. the day was warming up, and on the sunny side of the ship the steamer chairs were filling. two old men were casting quoits; a noisy quartette was playing shuffle-board. after idling back and forth for a time, kirk selected a chair and stretched himself out; but he was scarcely seated before the deck steward approached him and said: "do you wish this chair for the voyage, sir?" "yes, i think so." "i'll put your name on it." "anthony, suite a, third floor, front." "very well, sir." the man wrote out a card and fitted it to the back of the chair, saying, "one dollar, if you please." "what?" "the price of the chair is one dollar." "i haven't got a dollar." the steward laughed as if to humor his passenger. "i'm afraid then you can't have the chair." "so i must stand up all the way to panama, eh?" "you are joking, sir. i'll have to pay it myself, if you don't." "that's right--make me as uncomfortable as possible. by-the-way, what size collar do you wear?" "sixteen." kirk sighed. "send the purser to me, will you? i'll fix up the chair matter with him." while he was talking he heard the rustle of skirts close by and saw the woman he had met earlier seating herself next to him. with her was a french maid bearing a rug in her hands. it annoyed the young man to realize that out of all the chairs on deck he had selected the one nearest hers, and he would have changed his position had he not been too indolent. as it was, he lay idly listening to her words of direction to the maid; but as she spoke in french, he was undecided whether she was telling her companion that bad weather was imminent, or that the laundry needed counting--his mind, it seemed, ran to laundry. then the purser appeared. "did you send for me?" he inquired. "yes. there was a strange man around just now, and he wanted a dollar for this chair." "well?" "i want to establish a line of credit." the purser grunted. "and say!" kirk ran on, seriously. "i've been all over your little ship, but the passengers are boys' size. i can't wear this collar any longer." "and i can't find any baggage of yours." "then there isn't any. i never really expected there was. come now, be a good fellow. this is my 'case shirt." "if you really wish some clothes, i'll see what i can find among the stewards." "no, no," kirk hastily interposed, "i can't wear a shirt with soup stains on it. let me have one of yours--we're twin brothers." "i have no more than i need," said the purser, coldly. he opened a cigarette case, at which anthony gazed longingly. it seemed ages since he had had a smoke; but the other seemed disinclined for small courtesies. "i've seen the captain about that ticket matter," he went on, "and he says you must buy another." kirk shook his head languidly. "once more i tell you there is nothing doing." the officer broke out with some heat: "if you are joking, you've carried this thing far enough. if you are really strapped, as you say you are, how does it happen that you are occupying the best suite on the ship?" "it is a long story." "humph! you will have to give up those quarters and go forward." "why? you have your money for that ticket?" "yes, but you're not mr. locke." kirk smiled meditatively. "how do you know?" he queried. "good heavens! you've told me so a dozen--" "ah! then you have nothing except my word. well, sir, now that i come to think it over, i believe my name is locke, after all." he grinned. "anyhow, i love my little room and i think i'll keep it. please don't be peevish. i want you to do me a favor." he removed the ring from his finger, and, handing it to the purser, said "i want you to get me two diamonds' and a ruby's worth of shirts and collars; and also a safety razor. my mind has stopped working, but my whiskers continue to grow." the officer managed to say with dignity: "you wish to raise money on this, i presume? very well, i'll see what can be done for you, mr. locke." as he turned away, kirk became conscious that the woman in the next chair had let her book fall and was watching him with amused curiosity. feeling a sudden desire to confide in some one, he turned his eyes upon her with such a natural, boyish smile that she could not take offence, and began quite as if he had known her for some time: "these people are money-mad, aren't they? worst bunch of gold-diggers i ever saw." surprised, she half raised her book, but kirk ran on: "anybody would think i was trying to find a missing will instead of a shirt. that purser is the only man on the ship my size, and he distrusts me." the woman murmured something unintelligible. "i hope you don't mind my speaking to you," he added. "i'm awfully lonesome. my name is anthony, kirk anthony." evidently the occupant of the next chair was not a football enthusiast, for, although she bowed her acknowledgment, her face showed that the name carried no significance. "i understood you to tell the purser your name was locke," said she, in a very low-pitched, well-modulated voice. "i couldn't help overhearing." "but it isn't really, it's anthony. i'm the undignified heir to the stocks and bonds of an old party by that name who lives in albany." "darwin k. anthony?" questioned she, quickly. "is he your father?" her face lighted with a flash of genuine interest. kirk nodded. "he's my prodigal father and i'm the fatted son. do you know the governor?" "yes, slightly." "well, what do you think of that? he's a great old party, isn't he?" he chuckled irrepressibly. "did you ever hear him swear?" the woman shook her head with a smile. "i hardly know him well enough for that." "oh, he's a free performer; he swears naturally; can't help it. everybody knows he doesn't mean anything. it's funny, isn't it, with all his credit, that i can't get a shirt until i put up a diamond ring? he could buy a railroad with half that security." "you are joking, are you not?" "no indeed. i never needed a shirt so badly in my life. you see, i didn't intend to take this trip; i didn't even know i had sailed. when i woke up i thought this was a hotel. i've got no more baggage than a robin." "really?" the woman by now had closed her book and was giving him her full attention, responding to some respectful quality in his tone that robbed his frankness of offence. "how did it happen?" "well, to be perfectly honest, i got drunk--just plain drunk. i didn't think so at the time, understand, for i'd never been the least bit that way before. hope i don't shock you?" his new acquaintance shrugged her shoulders. "i have seen something of the world; i'm not easily shocked." "well, i was perfectly sober the last i remember, and then i woke up on the santa cruz. i'd never even heard the name before." "and hadn't you intended taking an ocean trip?" "good lord, no! i had just bought a new french car and was going to drive it up to new haven yesterday. it's standing out on forty-fifth street now, if somebody hasn't stolen it. gee! i can see the news-boys cutting their monograms in those tires." "how remarkable!" "you see, it was a big night--football game, supper, and all that. i remember everything up to a certain point, then--curtain! i was 'out' for twelve hours, and sick!--that's the funny part; i'm still sick." he shook his head as if at a loss what to make of this phenomenon. he noted how the woman's countenance lighted at even a passing interest, as he continued: "what i can't understand is this: it took all my money to pay for the supper, and yet i wake up with a first-class ticket to panama and in possession of one of the best suites on the ship. it's a problem play." "you say you were sick afterward?" "was i?" kirk turned his eyes upon the speaker, mournfully. "my head isn't right yet." "you were drugged," said the woman. "by jove!" he straightened up in his chair. "knockouts!" "exactly. some one drugged you and bought a ticket--" "wait! i'm beginning to see. it was locke. that's how i got his name. this is his ticket. oh! there's going to be something doing when i get back." "what?" "i don't know yet, but i'm going to sit right here and brood upon some fitting revenge. after that chap gets out of the hospital--" "you did not impress me as a college student," said the stranger. "i'm not. i graduated four years ago. i barely made it, but i did get through." "and you have never been to the tropics?" "not since i had my last row with the governor. have you?" "many times. it will prove an interesting trip for you. at least you have that consolation." "what is it like?" evidently the artless effrontery of the young man had not offended, for his neighbor talked freely, and in a short time the two were conversing as easily as old acquaintances. this was due, perhaps, to the fact that he had appealed to her with the same frankness he would have used toward a man and, thus far at least, had quite ignored her sex. she was sufficiently quick to appreciate the footing thus established, and allowed herself to meet him half-way. had he presumed in the slightest, she would have chilled him instantly; but, as it was, she seemed to feel the innate courtesy back of his boldness, seeing in him only a big, unaffected boy who needed an outlet for his feelings. in the same way, had a fine st. bernard dog thrust a friendly head beneath her hand she would have petted it. when at last she rose, after an hour that had swiftly sped, she was gratified at the look of concern that came into his eyes. she looked at him with genuine approval as he bowed and said: "thank you for the pointers about panama. i hope i may have the pleasure of talking to you again." when she had disappeared he murmured, admiringly: "jove! she's a corker! and she's not so old, after all. i wonder who she--" he leaned over and read the card on the back of her steamer chair. "mrs. stephen cortlandt, suite b," it was lettered. straightening up, he grumbled with genuine disappointment: "just my blamed luck! she's married." v a remedy is proposed by pledging his one article of jewelry kirk became possessed that afternoon of several shirts, collars, and handkerchiefs--likewise a razor, over which he exercised a sort of leasehold privilege. the purser made it plain, however, that he had not sold these articles, but merely loaned them, holding the ring as security for their return, and this arrangement allowed kirk no spare cash whatever. even with all his necessities paid for, it surprised him to find how many channels remained for spending money. for instance, the most agreeable loafing spot on the ship was the smoking-room, but whenever he entered it he was invited to drink, smoke, or play cards, and as he was fond of all these diversions, it required such an effort of will to refuse that it destroyed all the pleasure of good company. it was very hard always to be saying no; and in addition it excited his disgust to learn that he had inadvertently founded a reputation for abstemiousness. before long he discovered that the passengers considered him an exceptionally sober, steady youth of economical habits, and this enraged him beyond measure. every tinkle of ice or hiss of seltzer made his mouth water, the click of poker chips drew him with magnetic power. he longed mightily to "break over" and have a good time. it was his first effort at self-restraint, and the warfare became so intense that he finally gave up the smoking-room almost entirely, and spent his hours on deck, away from temptation. he suffered most, perhaps, from the lack of tobacco, but even in the matter of cigarettes he could not bring himself to accept favors that he could not return. in the solitude of his richly appointed suite he collected a few cork-bound stumps, which he impaled on a toothpick in order to light them. meanwhile he amused himself by baiting the purser. he dogged that serious-minded gentleman through all his waking hours, finding a rare delight in playing upon his suspicion and lack of humor. to him kirk was always mr. locke, while he insisted upon being called mr. anthony by the others, and the officer never quite got the hang of it. moreover, the latter was full of dignity, and did not relish being connected with a certainly dubious and possibly criminal character, yet dared not resort to rudeness as a means of riddance. the situation was trying enough to the young man at best; for the ship's hirelings began to show a lack of interest in his comfort, once it became known that he did not tip, and he experienced difficulty in obtaining even the customary attentions. it was annoying to one who had never known an unsatisfied whim; but kirk was of a peculiarly sanguine temperament that required much to ruffle, and looked upon the whole matter as a huge joke. it was this, perhaps, that enabled him to make friends in spite of his unsociable habits, for the men liked him. as for the women, he avoided them religiously, with the exception of mrs. cortlandt, whom he saw for an hour or two, morning and afternoon, as well as at meal-times. with her he got on famously, finding her nearly as entertaining as a male chum, though he never quite lost his dislike for her husband. had she been unmarried and nearer his own age, their daily intimacy might have caused him to become self-conscious, but, under the circumstances, no such thought occurred to him, and he began to look forward with pleasure to their hours on deck. the santa cruz was four days out before cortlandt joined them, and when he did he merely nodded casually to kirk, then, after exchanging a polite word or two with his wife, lapsed into his customary silence, while mrs. cortlandt continued her conversation without a second glance in her husband's direction. "that's what i call an ideal married couple," kirk reflected--"complete understanding, absolute confidence." and the more he saw of them, the stronger this impression grew. cortlandt was always attentive and courteous, without being demonstrative, while his wife showed a charming graciousness that was plainly unassumed. their perfect good-breeding made the young man feel at ease; but though he endeavored to cultivate the husband on several occasions, he made little headway. the man evidently possessed a wide knowledge of current events, a keen understanding of men and things, yet he never opened up. he listened, smiled, spoke rarely, and continued to spend nine-tenths of his time in that isolated corner of the smoking-room, with no other company than a long glass and a siphon. one day when kirk had begun to feel that his acquaintance with mrs. cortlandt was well established, he said to her: "stein told me to-day that your husband is in the diplomatic service." "yes," said she. "he was consul-general to colombia several years ago, and since then he has been to france and to germany." "i thought you were tourists--you have travelled so much." "most of our journeys have been made at the expense of the government." "are you diplomatting now?" "in a way. we shall be in panama for some time." "this stein seems to be a nice fellow. he's taken quite a liking to me." mrs. cortlandt laughed lightly. "that is part of his business." "how so?" "he is one of colonel jolson's secret agents." "who is colonel jolson?" "chairman of the isthmian canal commission. your father knows him." "do you mean that stein is a--detective?" kirk looked uncomfortable. "i do! does he know you are the son of darwin k. anthony?" "why, yes, i suppose so." "colonel jolson will be interested." "again i don't see the point." "your father is one of the most powerful and aggressive railroad men in the country. perhaps you know something about the railroad opposition to the canal?" kirk smiled. "well, to tell you the truth," said he, "the governor doesn't consult me about his business as much as he ought to. he seems to think he can run it all right without me, and we've only been speaking over the telephone lately." "one of the strongest forces the government had to combat in putting through the canal appropriations was the railroads. colonel jolson has no reason to love your father." "yes, but _i_ don't object to this canal. i think it must be a rather good idea." mrs. cortlandt laughed for a second time. "the colonel's dislike for your father will not affect you, inasmuch as you are returning so soon, but if you intended to stay it might be different." "in what way?" "oh, in many ways. there are two classes of people who are not welcomed on the canal zone--magazine writers and applicants for positions who have political influence back of them. the former are regarded as muckrakers, the latter as spies." "that's rather rough on them, isn't it?" "you must understand that there is a great big human machine behind the digging of this canal, and, while it is more wonderful by far than the actual machinery of iron and steel, it is subject to human weaknesses. men like colonel jolson, who form a part of it, are down here to make reputations for themselves. they are handicapped and vexed by constant interference, constant jealousy. it is a survival of the fittest, and i suppose they feel that they must protect themselves even if they use underhand means to do so. it is so in all big work of this character, where the individual is made small. you would find the same condition in your father's railroad organization." "oh, now! my old man is a pretty tough citizen to get along with, but he wouldn't hire detectives to spy on his employees." mrs. cortlandt smiled. "by-the-way, when are you going into business with him?" she said. "i? oh, not for a long time. you see, i'm so busy i never seem to have time to work. work doesn't really appeal to me, anyway. i suppose if i had to hustle i could, but--what's the use?" "what is it that keeps you so busy? what are you going to do when you get back, for instance?" "well, i'm going to ormond for the auto races, and i may enter my new car. if i don't get hurt in the races i'll take a hunting trip or two. then i want to try out an iceboat on the hudson, and i'll have to be back in new haven by the time the baseball squad limbers up. oh, i have plenty of work ahead!" mrs. cortlandt let her eyes dwell upon him curiously for a moment; then she said: "have you no ambition?" "certainly." "what is it?" "why--" kirk hesitated. "i can't say right off the reel, but i've got it--lots of it." "is there no--girl, for instance? have you never been in love?" "oh, see here, now!" anthony blushed in a manner to excite the envy of any woman. "i don't like 'em. i'd rather play football." "that explains something. when the time comes you will cease wasting your life and--" "i'm not wasting my life," the young man denied hotly. "i'm having a great time; simply immense." "i remember reading an article once by a man who attacked american colleges with bitter personal feeling, on the ground that they fostered exactly the attitude toward life which you have just expressed." anthony looked sober. "that was my father," he said. "really! how stupid of me to forget the name. but i don't agree with him," she continued, gently. "you merely lack stimulus. if you should meet the right woman--" then, seeing the amusement in his face; "believe me, i know what i am talking about. i know what a woman can do. your life has been too easy and placid. you need some disturbing element to make it ferment." "but i don't want to ferment." "why don't you stay in panama and go to work?" "work? hideous word! for one thing, i haven't time. i must get back--" "you will find great opportunities there." "but how about the girl who is to sour the syrup of my being and make it ferment?" "oh, she may appear at any moment; but, joking aside, you had better think over what i have said." she left him with an admonitory shake of her head. the santa cruz was now rapidly drawing out of the cold northern winter and into a tropic warmth. already the raw chill of higher latitudes was giving way to a balmy, spring-like temperature, while the glittering sunshine transformed the sea into a lively, gleaming expanse of sapphire. the nights were perfect, the days divine. the passengers responded as if to a magic draught, and kirk found his blood filled with a new vigor. a brief sight of columbus' landfall served to break the monotony; then followed a swift flight past low, tropical islands ringed with coral sand, upon which broke a lazy, milk-white surf. through the glasses villages were spied, backed by palm groves and guarded by tall sentinel lighthouses; but the santa cruz pushed steadily southward, her decks as level as a dancing floor, the melancholy voice of her bell tolling the leagues as they slipped past. the eastern tongue of cuba rose out of the horizon, then dropped astern, and the gentle trades began to fan the travellers. now that they were in the caribbean, schools of flying fish whisked out from under the ship's prow, and away, like tiny silver-sheathed arrows. new constellations rose into the evening sky. it became impossible to rest indoors, with the trade-winds calling, and the passengers spent long, lazy hours basking in the breath of the tropics and grudging the pleasure of which sleep deprived them. it was the last night of the voyage, and the thrill of approaching land was felt by all. as usual, the monotony of the first day or two had given way to an idle contentment and a vague regret at leaving the ship and severing the ties so newly made. home, instead of looming close and overshadowing, had become a memory rather indistinct and blurred, clouded by the proximity of the new and unknown. kirk anthony acknowledged to a reluctant enjoyment of the change and found himself less eager to go back. as he paced the deck after dinner he felt a lurking desire to defer his return until he had absorbed something more of this warmth and languor; he even reflected that he might welcome a stay of some length in the tropics if it were not for the fact that he had so much to do. mrs. cortlandt joined him as usual, and they did a mile around the promenade, chatting idly of many things. the evening was too glorious to permit of early retiring, and a late hour found them leaning over the rail, side by side, while anthony bewailed the fact that he knew nothing of the country just beyond the dark horizon ahead of them. "you are quite right," his companion agreed. "you will miss its best flavor if you don't know the history back of it. for instance, we are now on the spanish main, the traditional home of romance and adventure." "i always wanted to be a pirate," he acknowledged gravely, "up to fifteen. then i thought i'd rather run a candy store." "the ships of sir henry morgan and the galleons of his catholic majesty philip of spain sailed these waters. over yonder"--she waved a graceful hand to the north and east--"are the haunts where the adventurers of old england used to lie in wait for their prey. ahead of us is the land that pizarro soaked with blood. we're coming into the oldest country on this side of the globe, mr. anthony, where men lived in peace and plenty when most of europe was a wilderness. i suppose such things appeal more to a woman's fancy than to a man's, but to me they're mightily alluring." kirk wagged his head admiringly, as he said: "i wish i could make language behave like that," and edith cortlandt laughed like a young girl. "oh, i'm not a perfervid poet," she disclaimed, "but everything down here is so full of association i can't help feeling it." "i'm beginning to notice it myself. maybe it's the climate." "perhaps. anyhow, it is all very vivid to me. did you ever stop to think how brave those men must have been who first went venturing into unknown seas in their little wooden boats?" "they were looking for a short cut to the east indies, weren't they?" "yes, to cathay. and then the people they found and conquered! the spoils they exacted! they were men--those conquistadores--whatever else they were--big, cruel, heroic fellows like bastida, nicuesa, balboa, pedrarias the assassin, and the rest. they oppressed the natives terribly, yet they paved the way for civilization, after all. the spaniards did try to uplift the indians, you know. and the life in the colonies was like that in old spain, only more romantic and picturesque. why, whenever i pass through these latin-american cities i see, in place of the crumbling ruins, grand cathedrals and palaces; in place of the squalid beggars idling about the market-places i see velvet-clad dons and high-born ladies." "aren't there any beautiful ladies left?" "a few, perhaps." "what happened to the cathedrals and the velvet fellows and all that?" "oh, the old state of affairs couldn't last forever. the spanish administration wasn't so bad as is generally supposed, yet of course there was too much rapacity and not enough industry. central america, broadly speaking, was known as the treasure-chest of the world, and there were constant wars and disturbances. the colonies as a whole did not progress like those in the north, and in course of time deteriorated. the old cathedrals decayed and were not rebuilt. the old spanish stock died out and in its stead grew up a motley race given to revolt, revolution, and corruption. even when the provinces became free, they weren't able to unite and form a strong nation. the isthmus of panama became a pest-hole where the scum of the four seas settled. the people became mean and unhealthy in mind and body and morals, preserving nothing except the cruelty of their forefathers. here and there, to be sure, one comes across the old castilian breed, like a silver thread running through a rotting altar-cloth, but only here and there, and most of those silver threads have become tarnished from contact with the fabric." "it must be a nice place," kirk observed with gentle sarcasm. "it affords one a great chance to moralize, at any rate. take the building of this canal, for instance. first, the french came, led by a dreamer, and poured in the wealth of an empire in order that they might exact toll from the world. you see, they were all lured by the love of gain--the spaniards, who pillaged the natives to begin with, and the french, who set out to squeeze profit from all the other nations. but it seems as if the spot were infected. the french lost an army in their project; corruption gnawed through, and the thing ended in disgrace and disaster. spain and france have come and gone, and at last we yankees have arrived. it seems to be the will of god that the youngest, lustiest people on the earth should finally be sent to clean this augean stable." "by jove! i never thought of it that way." "it is a big task, mr. anthony, and the mere digging of the ditch is the smallest part. there is a great deal more to be done. you see, as men attain culture, they require more than mere food and drink and bedding, and in the same way, as nations attain to greatness, they require more than mere territory--they reach out and absorb power and prestige. our decision to build the panama canal is like the landing of another columbus; the conquest is to follow. after that will come--who knows what? perhaps more wars, more pillage, more injustice." "you talk like a man," anthony said, admiringly. "i had no idea you looked at things in such a big way." "you are laughing at me." "no, indeed." "you see, it is part of my husband's profession. as to the romance--well, all women are romantic and imaginative, i suppose, and you've been an inspiring listener." "i don't know about that, but--you're a corking good talker. excuse my archaic english." mrs. cortlandt turned her eyes upon the speaker, and he saw that they were very bright. "i've been thinking about what you told me the other day," he ran on, "about myself. remember?" "i'm glad i have the knack of making something besides football signals stick in your memory," said she. "have you been thinking about that girl i spoke of?" "yes," he replied, ingenuously. "i've been making up my mind to ask you if you happen to have a sister--an unmarried sister, i mean." mrs. cortlandt laughed appreciatively. "no, i have no sister, but i thank you for the compliment. i suppose you meant it for one?" "yes. i hope you don't mind." "not at all. i'm quite sure now that my notion about you was right. it will take a woman to make a man of you." "it used to be my wind that troubled me," said the athlete, mournfully. "now it seems to be my heart." "it doesn't seem to be seriously affected as yet, but it's remarkable the number of ways in which the heart of man may be reached. i remember once having breakfast in a queer little restaurant in the french quarter of new orleans, famous for its cooking and for the well-known people who had eaten there. there was a sort of register which the guests were asked to sign, and in looking it over i read the inscription of one particularly enthusiastic diner. it ran, 'oh, madame begue, your liver has touched my heart,' and the story is that the writer made desperate love to the proprietor's wife." "oh, come, that's rather hard on me. i have some emotions besides a hearty appreciation of food." "no doubt. i only mentioned that as one of the ways, and, seriously, i am convinced that, however your awakening may come, you will be the better for it." "i do hope the cook will prove to be unmarried," he mused. "imagine having to do away with a husband who can handle a cleaver." "oh, i don't mean you should necessarily marry the woman. it would be quite as good for you if she refused even to look at you. however, let us hope that you meet some nice american girl--" "why not a senorita? you have inspired me with spanish romance." but mrs. cortlandt shook her head. "wait until you have seen them." "already i imagine myself under some moonlit balcony teasing chords out of a guitar. i have rather a good singing voice, you know." "it is not done that way nowadays. panama is americanized. you will need a pianola and an automobile." "and all the romance is gone?" "oh, there is romance everywhere; there is quite as much in pittsburg as in andalusia. but to speak of more practical things"--mrs. cortlandt hesitated slightly--"i heard you tell the purser the other day about your financial troubles, and it occurred to me that mr. cortlandt might assist you." "thanks, awfully," kirk hastened to say, feeling himself flush uncomfortably. "but i sha'n't need anything. the old gentleman will wire me whatever i ask for. does mr. cortlandt know how i am fixed?" "no." "please don't tell him. i--i'm a little bit ashamed of myself. you're not going?" "yes. it is getting late, and my maid is looking for me." "oh, i'm sorry. it's lonesome around here without--somebody to talk to." he took her hand and shook it as if she were a man. "you've been mighty good to me and--i wish you had a sister. that's all." she left him the memory of a very bright and very girlish smile, and he found himself thinking that she could not be so much older than he, after all. mr. cortlandt was awaiting his wife and rose courteously as she entered their suite. "did you send annette for me?" she inquired. "yes. i thought you had forgotten the hour. we rise at six." "my dear," she returned, coolly, "i was quite aware of the time. i was talking to mr. anthony." "do you find him so amusing?" "very much so." "he's such a boy. by-the-way, some of the passengers are remarking about your friendship for him." mrs. cortlandt shrugged. "i expected that. does it interest you?" the man favored her with his wintry smile. "not at all." "if he should need assistance while in panama, i should be obliged if you would accommodate him." "money?" "yes, or anything else. he left new york unexpectedly." "don't you think that is going a bit too far? you know i don't fancy him." mrs. cortlandt frowned slightly. "we won't discuss it," she said. "i assured him he was at liberty to call on us for anything and--naturally that ends the matter." "naturally!" he agreed, but his colorless cheeks flushed dully. vi in which kirk anthony is greatly surprised when kirk came on deck early the following morning, he found the santa cruz nosing her way into colony harbor. a land fog obscured his view somewhat, but through it he beheld a low, irregular line of mountains in the background, and close at hand a town. the ship came to anchor abreast of a point upon which he descried a squat little spider-legged lighthouse and long rows of frame dwellings half hidden behind slender palm-trees. beyond were warehouses and docks and the funnels of many ships; on either side of the bay was a dense tropic wilderness. as the sun dissipated the morning haze, he saw that the hills were matted with a marvellous vivid green. there were no clearings on the slopes, no open spaces dotted with farm-houses or herds, the jungle flowed down to the water's edge in an unbroken sweep, and the town was cut out of it. a launch came plunging through the swells, and the deck steward made his rounds requesting the passengers to assemble for medical examination. kirk found the cortlandts ahead of him. "what's coming off?" he inquired. "vaccination," cortlandt explained, briefly. "they are very particular about disease." his wife added: "this used to be the worst fever-spot in the world, you know. when we were here five years ago, we saw car-loads of dead people nearly every day. a funeral train was a familiar sight." "what a pleasant place to spend my vacation!" exclaimed kirk. "now if i can rent a room over the morgue and board with the village undertaker, i'll have a nice time." "oh, there's no more yellow fever--no sickness at all, in fact," said mr. cortlandt. "will you go over to panama city, or will you stay in colon?" "i think i'll remain on the ship; then she can't get away without me," kirk answered. but when, after taking his turn before the doctors, he explained his desire to the purser, that worthy replied: "i'm sorry, but you'll have to arrange that with the agent. we make a charge, you know, just like a hotel." "i'm going to cable my old man for money." the officer shook his head with finality. "nothing doing, mr. locke." "anthony." "i'll take no chances. if you don't pay, i'll have to. look here! do you want to know what i think of you, mr.--anthony locke?" "i haven't any special yearnings in that direction, but--what do you think about me?" "well, i don't think your name is either locke or anthony." "marvellous!" "and i don't think you have any money coming to you, either." "mighty intellect!" "i think you are no good." "you're not alone in that belief. but what has all that to do with my sleeping aboard the santa cruz?" "if you want to stay aboard, you'll have to pay in advance. you're not so foolish as you try to make out." "those are glorious words of praise," kirk acknowledged, "but i'll make a bet with you." "what?" "that you change your mind. i am just as foolish as i appear, and i'll prove it. i'll bet my ring against your shirts that my name is anthony, and if i don't come through with the price of a ticket to new york you can keep the ring." "very well, but meanwhile i don't intend to be stuck for your bill." the purser was a man of admirable caution. "all right, then, i shall throw myself upon the mercy of strangers and take your belongings with me." by this time the ship was being warped into her berth, and the dock was crowded. there were little brown customs inspectors in khaki, little brown policemen in blue, little brown merchants in white, and huge black jamaicans in all colors of rags. here and there moved a bronzed, businesslike american, and anthony noticed that for the most part these were clean-cut, aggressive-looking young fellows. he was delayed but an instant by the customs officials, then made his way out through a barnlike structure to the street, reflecting that, after all, there are advantages in travelling light. he came into a blazing-hot, glaring white street jammed with all sorts of vehicles, the drivers of which seemed perpetually upon the point of riot. before him stretched a shadeless brick pavement, with a railroad track on one side, and on the other a line of naked frame buildings hideous in their sameness. the sun beat down fiercely. kirk mopped his face with the purser's handkerchief and wondered if this were really december. clumsy two-wheeled carts came bumping past, some with prehensile-footed negroes perched upon them, others driven by turban-crowned hindoos. a fleet of dilapidated surreys and coaches, each equipped with a musical chime and drawn by a flea-bitten, ratlike horse, thronged the square. kirk noticed with amusement that the steeds were of stronger mentality than the drivers, judging from the way they dominated the place, kicking, biting squealing, ramming one another, locking wheels and blocking traffic, the while their futile owners merely jerked the reins after the fashion of a street-car conductor ringing up fares, or swore softly in spanish. silent-footed coolies drifted past, sullen-faced negroes jostled him, stately martinique women stalked through the confusion with queenly dignity. these last were especially qualified to take the stranger's eye, being tall and slender and wearing gaudy head-dresses, the tips of which stood up like rabbits' ears. unlike the fat and noisy jamaicans, they were neat and clean, their skirts snow-white and stiffly starched, and they held themselves as proudly erect as if pacing a stage. the indescribable confusion of races reminded the young american of a red sea port where the myriad peoples of the far east intermingle. he heard a dozen different dialects; even the negroes used an accent that was difficult to understand. one thing only struck a familiar note, and that with peculiar force and sharpness. down the railroad track toward him came a locomotive with the letters "p. r. r." upon it, at which he said aloud: "hurrah, i'm in jersey city! i'll take the twenty-third street ferry and be at the astor in no time." he made his way slowly through the turmoil to the cable office, where he wrote a message, only to have it refused. "we don't send c. o. d.," the operator told him. "must have coin in advance, eh?" "yes, sir." "i left my gold-purse on the dresser," kirk said, cheerfully. "i'll be back later." then he wandered forth again, bearing his bundle of shirts beneath his arm. he thought of appealing to the cortlandts before they left for panama city, but could not bring himself to ask a favor from that slim, agate-eyed man for whom he felt such an instinctive distaste. instead, he resolved to enlist the services of the american consul. he began to feel the heat now, and his borrowed collar drooped, but as he neared the seaward side of town there was a remarkable transformation. a delightful, cooling breeze swept in from the ocean, and, when he finally came out upon a palm-guarded road along the breakers, he paused in silent enjoyment. the trade-winds were drawing inward as steadily as if forced by a great electric fan, piling the green waters upon the rocks in a ceaseless, soothing murmur, making the palm fronds overhead rustle like the silken skirts of an aerial ballet. the effect was wonderful, for, while the air was balmy and soft, it was also deliciously refreshing and seemed to have magic properties. after some further wandering, he found the consul's house and knocked at the door, whereupon a high-pitched, querulous voice from inside cried: "come in. dammit, don't stand there hammering!" kirk entered to find a huge, globular man clad in soiled linens sprawled in a musty morris chair and sipping a highball. the man's face and neck were of a purplish, apoplectic hue; he seemed to radiate heat-waves like a base-burner. "is this mr. weeks?" kirk inquired. "that's me." "my name is anthony." "glad to meet you," wheezed the fat man, extending a limp, moist hand without rising. when kirk had grasped it he felt like wiping his own palm. "have a seat." the speaker indicated a broken-backed rocker encumbered with damp clothes, newspapers, and books. "just dump that rubbish on the floor; it don't matter where." then he piped at the top of his thin, little voice, "zeelah! hey, zeelah! bring some more ice." one glance showed anthony that the place was indescribably disordered; a rickety desk was half concealed beneath a litter of papers, books, breakfast dishes, and what not; a typewriter occupied a chair, and all about the floor were scattered documents where the wind had blown them. shoes and articles of clothing were piled in the corners; there was not a sound piece of furniture in the place, and through an open door leading to another room at the rear could be seen a cheap iron bed, sagging hammock-like, its head and foot posts slanting like tepee poles, doubtless from the weight of its owner. in answer to mr. weeks's shout a slatternly negress with dragging skirts and overrun shoes entered, carrying a washbowl partly filled with ice. "just get in, mr. anthony?" "yes, sir, on the santa. cruz." "fine ship." mr. weeks rose ponderously and wiped out a glass with a bath towel, while kirk noticed that two damp half-moons had come through his stiffly starched linen trousers where his dripping knees had pressed. he walked with a peculiar, springy roll, as if pads of fat had grown between his joints, and, once an impulse had been given his massive frame, it required time in which to become effective. the sound of his breathing was plainly audible as he prepared his guest's beverage. "you'll like that," he predicted. "there's one good thing we get in colon, and that's whiskey." with a palsied hand he presented the glass. his cuffs were limp and tight, his red wrists were ringed like those of a baby. as he rolled back toward the morris chair, his stomach surged up and down as if about to break from its moorings. "i came in to ask a favor," anthony announced, "i suppose every tourist does the same." "that's part of a consul's duty," mr. weeks panted, while his soft cheeks swelled with every exhalation. "that's what i'm here for." "i want to cable home for money." "a little poker game on the way down, eh?" he began to shake ponderously. "i'm broke, and they won't take a collect message at the cable office. you see, i didn't know i was coming; some of my friends gave me a knockout and shipped me off on the santa cruz. the wireless wasn't working, we didn't stop at jamaica, so this is my first chance to get word home." "what do you wish me to do?" "cable for me and see that i have a place to stop until i get an answer." a look of distrust crept slowly into the consul's little eyes. "are you absolutely broke?" "i haven't got a jingle." "how long will it take to hear from your people?" "if my father is at home, i'll hear instantly." "and if he isn't?" "i'll have to wait." "what makes you think he'll wire you money?" "he's never failed yet. you see, i'm something like a comet; he knows i'll be around every so often." mr. weeks began to complain. "i don't know you, mr.--what's the name again? anthony? i'm a poor man and i've been an easy mark for every tropical tramp from vera cruz to guayaquil. your father may not be able to help you, and then i'll be holding the bag." "i think you don't understand who he is. did you ever hear of darwin k. anthony, of albany, new york?" mr. weeks's thick lids opened, this time to display a far different emotion. "certainly." "well, he's the goat." slowly, grandly, the american consul set his frame in motion, whereat kirk said, quickly, "don't get up; i understand." but mr. weeks had gone too far to check himself, so he lurched resiliently into an upright position, then across the floor, and, reaching out past his undulating front, as a man reaches forth from the midst of a crowd, shook his guest heartily by the hand. "why didn't you say so?" he bubbled. "i'm here to accommodate folks like you. darwin k. anthony! well, rather." "thanks." the young man wiped his hand surreptitiously. "if you will fix it so i can cable him and sleep aboard the ship, i'll be greatly obliged." "nothing of the sort," mr. weeks blew through his wet lips. "i'll cable him myself and you'll stay right here as my guest. delighted to have the privilege." kirk cast another glance over the place, and demurred hastily. "really, i couldn't think of putting you out. i can stay on the santa cruz as well as not." "i couldn't hear to such a thing. you're tired of ship life--everybody is--and i have lots of room--too much room. it's a pleasure to meet real people--this damn country is so full of crooks and dead-beats. no, sir, you'll stay right here where it is cool and comfortable." with a pudgy forefinger he stripped his purple brow of a row of glistening sweat-drops. "i'll have zeelah fix up a bed where this glorious breeze will play on you. mr. anthony, that trade-wind blows just like that all the time--never dies down--it's the only thing that makes life bearable here--that and the whiskey. have another highball?" "no, i thank you." "darwin--say, i'll send a cart for your baggage, right now." "i have it with me--six shirts, all guilty." "then i'll send your father a message this minute. i'm delighted at the privilege of being the first to advise him of your safety and to relieve his mental anguish." mr. weeks rocked toward the desk, adjusted a chair behind him, spread his legs apart, and sat down sidewise so that he could reach the inkwell. he overhung his chair so generously that from the front he appeared to be perched precariously upon its edge or to be holding some one in his lap. "where are those cable blanks!" he cried, irritably, stirring up the confusion in front of him. "here they are." anthony picked one up from the floor. "it's that damn wind again. i can't keep anything in place unless i sit on it. that's the trouble with this country--there's always a breeze blowing. thanks! i'm getting a trifle heavy to stoop--makes me dizzy." in a moment he read what he had written: darwin k. anthony, albany, new york. your son well and safe. here as my guest. asks you cable him money for return. weeks, american consul. "that tells the story. it'll please him to know i'm looking after you, my boy." "you are very kind." "don't speak of it. i'm glad to get in touch with your father. we need capital in this country." "he's a hard man in money matters," said darwin k. anthony's son. "i believe i enjoy the distinction of being the only person who ever made him loosen." "all successful men are cautious," weeks declared. "but if he knew the wonderful opportunities this country presents--" the speaker leaned forward, while his chair creaked dangerously, and said, with impressiveness, "my dear sir, do you realize that a cocoa palm after it is seven years old drops a nut worth five cents every day in the year and requires no care whatever except to gather the fruit?" "no." "fact! and we grow the best ones in the world right here. but the demand is increasing so rapidly that in ten years there will be a famine. think of it--a famine of cocoanuts!" mr. weeks paused to lend dramatic effect. "that's fierce," kirk acknowledged. "what are they good for?" "eating! people make cakes out of them, and oil, and candy. good cocoanut land can be bought for fifty cents an acre, selected seeds for five cents each, labor is sixty cents a day. no frosts, no worms, no bugs. you sit still and they drop in your lap." "the bugs?" "no! no! the cocoanuts." "fine!" "but that's nothing. do you realize that this soil will raise sugar-cane the size of your--of my--thigh, and once you plant it you can't keep it cut out?" "it's all news to me." "you can buy sugar-cane land for a dollar an acre; it costs--" "i'm no good at figures, mr. weeks." "and rubber! there's the chance for a man with capital. rubber!" "i will--i mean, is that so?" "ever see any rubber-trees?" "only in brooklyn." "i mean wild rubber. this country is full of it; the natives bring it in. all you have to do is buy timber land--you can get it for a song--plant your rubber-seed, and let 'er go, gallagher! in ten years you go back, cut off your timber, sell it for enough to make you rich, and there is your rubber--velvet!" he concluded, triumphantly. "rubber velvet?" "yes. it's 'velvet'--all clear. you can't lose. my boy, there's a thousand ways to get rich down here, and i know 'em all. what i need is capital. if i had your father's backing--say! it's a mighty good thing you came to see me. i can do your old man a lot of good. i'm conservative, i am, and what he needs is a good, conservative man to manage his investments. why, talk about quick money"--the speaker thrust forth a finger that looked like a peeled banana--"i've got a gold-mine--" "not a bit like it." kirk shook his head. "they don't behave." "this one will. it's an old spanish mine and hasn't been worked for three centuries. it's rich, rich! i'll take you in as my partner, and we'll get your father to open it up. what do you say? if he doesn't like that, we'll get him a street-railway franchise; i'm close to the government, and there isn't a steel rail in any city of the republic. i know all the spiggoty politicians." "the what?" "the spiggoties! that's what we call the panamanians. they 'no spiggoty english'; understand?" "it's a funny name." "now, my boy, there's one thing i want you to be careful of. don't let some of these fellows around here get you excited. this country is full of promoters, cheap skates, and that sort, and they'll try to stampede you into some investment. you trust to me; i'm conservative. i'll put you up at the club, and when you get straightened around we'll talk business. meanwhile, i'll send this cable." mr. weeks was even better than his word. he took kirk with him, and went heaving down the street, his body quivering at every step as if hung upon a whalebone framework, the breath wheezing noisily in and out of his chest, the perspiration streaming from his purple face in rivulets. he put up his guest at the club and invited some of his friends to join them for dinner that evening on the wide balcony; then, noting anthony's heavy clothing, he said: "you need some linens, kirk. that suit looks like a dog bed. you don't mind my calling you kirk, do you?" "i'm flattered. however, i can't get ready-made clothes large enough, and, besides, it's hardly worth while for the length of time--" "nonsense. now you're here we won't let you go right back. there's a chinese tailor on bottle alley who'll have you a suit to measure by noon to-morrow, and he only charges seven dollars, goods and all." accordingly, the two journeyed to bottle alley and selected some linen, whereupon, instead of one suit, the consul ordered three, having them charged to his account. kirk really enjoyed that evening at the wayfarers club, for, once the cool of evening had come, the place filled up rapidly with as fine a crowd of men as he had ever met. there were young fellows from the railroad offices, merchants from the town, engineers from the big job, the proximity of which made itself felt like a mysterious presence. there was a trader from down the san blas coast; a benevolent, white-haired judge, with a fund of excellent stories; a lieutenant in the zone police who impressed kirk as a real remington trooper come to life; and many another. they all welcomed the yale man with that freedom which one finds only on the frontier, and as he listened to them he began to gain some idea of the tremendous task that occupied their minds. they were all men with work to do; there were no idlers; there was no class distinction. one topic of conversation prevailed, and, although the talk drifted away from it at times, it invariably came back to the job in the end. weeks did himself credit as a host. his table, spread on the latticed balcony where the never-failing trade-winds fanned it, was decorated tastefully with flowers, red-shaded candles, white linen, and gleaming silver gave it a metropolitan air. both the food and the wine were well served, and the consul's half-dozen guests soon became mellowed and friendly. kirk felt he had fallen among kindred spirits, for it was almost like a fraternity dinner. when finally they arose, some one proposed a game of draw poker and insisted upon kirk's joining. he was about to refuse when weeks drew him aside to say: "don't let the money question stand in your way, kirk. you're my guest, and your i.o.u. is as good as a government bond; so go as far as you like." a considerable portion of anthony's time in college had been devoted to a course in draw poker--recitations, so to speak, being conducted in the upper rooms of a greek letter "frat," and he cherished the belief that he had at least learned to distinguish a spade flush from an "arkansas blaze." but he soon found that these men had forgotten more about the game than he could ever hope to learn at any university, and when the crowd broke up at midnight he signed his name to a tab for forty dollars. early the next day the following cablegram was left at the american consulate: weeks, consul, colon. anthony absent, returns friday. copley. "copley is the governor's secretary," kirk explained. "that means that i'll miss the santa cruz and have to wait another week." "i'm delighted," the consul said, heartily. "perhaps you could stake me to a ticket. i'll remit when i get to new york." "my pay isn't due for a fortnight," weeks explained after an instant's hesitation. "you see, i'm interested in so many ventures it keeps me--well, broke. anyhow, you can't go until we have arranged an investment for your father." kirk could not help thinking that a man of the consul's wide acquaintance and business capacity could have raised the necessary funds without much trouble; but, not wishing to embarrass his host, he refrained from pressing the matter, and resigned himself as best he could to an extension of his exile. meanwhile, he decided to visit the canal, for on every side he heard nothing but echoes of the great work, and he began to feel that he owed it to himself to view it. but his plans were upset by the weather. on the following day it began to rain, and it continued to rain day and night thereafter until colon became a sodden, dripping horror. the soil melted into a quagmire, the streets became sluices, the heavens closed down like a leaden pall, and the very air became saturated. it was hot also, and sticky. indoors a mould began to form, rust grew like a fungus; outdoors the waving palm tops spilled a deluge upon roof and sidewalk at every gust; their trunks streamed like hydrants. kirk had never seen such a rain; it kept up hour after hour, day after day, until the monotony became maddening. the instant he stepped out from shelter he was drenched, and even in his rooms he could discover no means of drying his clothes. his garments, hanging beside his bed at night, were clammy and overlaid with moisture in the morning. things began to smell musty; leather objects grew long, hoary whiskers of green mould. to his amazement, the inhabitants seemed quite oblivious to the change, however, and, while they agreed that the weather was a trifle misty, they pursued their duties as usual, assuring him that the rain might continue for a month. it was too much for kirk, however, and he deferred his trip over the "line," spending his time instead at the wayfarers club. in his daylight hours he listened to weeks's unending dissertations upon the riches of the tropics; at night he played poker with such uniform bad luck that his opponents developed for him an increasing affection. but all things have an end, and friday morning broke clear and hot. "we'll hear from the old gentleman to-day, sure," he told weeks at breakfast. "he's regularity itself. the train despatchers set their watches by him." "now that it has cleared off, we must look into the cocoanut business," the consul announced. "i'll make you a rich man, kirk." "i'm rich, anyhow, or i will be. money doesn't mean much to me." "your father is--many times a millionaire, isn't he?" weeks' little red eyes were very bright and curious. kirk had seen that look many times before and knew its meaning. hence he replied rather brusquely: "so i believe." and a moment later declared his determination to avail himself of the good weather and see something of the town. the prospect of squaring his account with this fawning fat man filled him with relief, and once away from the consulate he stayed until late in the afternoon. it was nearly dark when he strolled in, to inquire: "well, did you get an answer?" "yes." weeks fumbled excitedly through the papers on his desk. "how much did he send? "here's the message; read it yourself." kirk read as follows: weeks, consul, colon. your guest an impostor. have no son. anthony. "well, i'll be damned!" he ejaculated. "this is a joke!" weeks was beginning to pant. "a joke, hey? i suppose it was a joke to impose on me?" "don't you believe i'm kirk anthony?" "no, i do not. i just discovered to-day that your name is jefferson locke. stein told me." anthony laughed lightly. "oh, laugh, if you want to. you're a smooth article with your talk about football and automobiles and millionaire fathers, but you happened to select the wrong millionaire for a father this time, and i'm going to give you a taste of our spiggoty jails." "you can't arrest me. you offered to take me in." the fat man grew redder than ever; he seemed upon the point of exploding; his whole body shook and quivered as if a head of steam were steadily gathering inside him. "you can't get out of it that way," he cried at the top of his little voice. "i've fed you for a week. i put you up at my club. that very suit of clothes you have on is mine." "well, don't burst a seam over the matter. my governor doesn't know the facts. i'll cable him myself this time." "and live off me for another week, i suppose? not if i know it! he says he has no son; isn't that enough?" "he doesn't understand." "and how about those gambling debts?" chattered the mountain of flesh. "you thought you'd fool me for a week, while you won enough money from my friends to get away. now i'll have to pay them. oh, i'll fix you!" "you go slow about having me pinched," kirk said, darkly, "or i'll make you jump through a hoop. i'll pay my debts." "you're a rich man, eh? money doesn't mean much to you, hey?" mocked the infuriated consul. "i suppose this is an old game of yours. well, you stuck me all right, because you knew i couldn't have you arrested--i'd be a laughing-stock forever. but i've had your card cancelled, and i've left word for the waiters to throw you out if you show up at the wayfarers." "will you lend me enough money to cable again?" asked anthony, with an effort. "more money? no!" fairly screamed the other. "you get out of my house, mr. 'kirk anthony,' and don't you show yourself around here again. i'll keep the rest of your wardrobe." his erstwhile guest underwent an abrupt reversal of emotion. to the indignant amazement of mr. weeks, he burst into a genuine laugh, saying: "all right, landlord, keep my baggage. i believe that's the custom, but--oh, gee! this is funny." he was still laughing when he reached the public square, for at last he had begun to see the full humor of adelbert higgins' joke. vii the reward of merit facing for the first time in his life an instant and absolute need of money, kirk found himself singularly lacking in resource; and a period of sober contemplation brought him no helpful thought. perhaps, after all, he decided, his best course would be to seek relief from the cortlandts. accordingly, he strolled into the offices of the steamship company near by and asked leave to telephone. but on calling up the hotel tivoli, he was told that his friends were out; nor could he learn the probable hour of their return. as he hung up the receiver he noticed that the office was closing, and, seeing the agent about to quit the place, addressed him: "i'd like to ask a favor." "what is it?" "will you introduce me to the best hotel in town? i have friends in panama city, but they're out and it's getting late." "there isn't a good hotel here, but you don't need an introduction; just walk in. they're not full." "i'm broke, and i have no baggage." "don't you know anybody?" "i know the american consul--been stopping at his house for a week--but he threw me out." a great light seemed suddenly to dawn upon the agent. "oh, you're locke!" said he, with the air of one who detects a fraud too obvious to be taken seriously. "now i understand. the purser on the santa cruz told me about you. sorry i can't help you, but i'm a salaried man." "i've got to sleep," stoutly maintained the other. "somebody will have to take care of me; i can't sit up all night." "see here, my friend, i don't know what your game is, but you can't sting me." the agent finished locking up, then walked away, leaving his visitor to reflect anew upon the average human being's ignoble lack of faith in his fellows. it was growing dark. from farther down the water-front the lights of the wayfarers club shone invitingly, and kirk decided to appeal there for assistance. in spite of weeks's warning, he felt sure he could prevail upon some of the members to tide him over for the night, but as he neared the place he underwent a sudden change of heart. slowly mounting the stairs ahead of him like a trained hippopotamus was the colossal, panting figure of the american consul, at sight of which kirk's pride rose up in arms and forbade him to follow. doubtless weeks had spread his story broadcast; it was manifestly impossible for him to appeal to his recent card partners--they would believe he had deliberately imposed upon them. it was humiliating, yet there seemed nothing to do except to await the cortlandts' return, and, if he failed to reach them by telephone, to spend the night in the open. it occurred to him that he might try to locate stein or some other of his late fellow-passengers, but they were probably scattered across the isthmus by this time. a band was playing in the plaza when he came back--a very good band, too--and, finding a bench, he allowed his mind the relief of idly listening to the music. the square was filling with spanish people, who soon caught and held his attention, recalling mrs. cortlandt's words regarding the intermixture of bloods in this country; for every imaginable variety of mongrel breed looked out from the loitering crowd. but no matter what the racial blend, black was the fundamental tone. undeniably the castilian strain was running out; not one passer-by in ten seemed really white. naturally, there was no color line. well-dressed girls, evidently white, or nearly so, went arm and arm with wenches as black as night; men of every shade fraternized freely. it was a picturesque and ever-changing scene. kirk saw dark-faced girls wearing their unfailing badge of maidenhood--a white mantilla--followed invariably at a distance by respectful admirers who never presumed to walk beside them; wives whom marriage had forced to exchange the white shawl for the black, escorted by their husbands; huge, slouching jamaican negroes of both sexes; silent-footed, stately barbadians who gave a touch of savagery to the procession. some of the women wore giant firebugs, whose glowing eyes lent a ghostly radiance to hair or lace, at once weird and beautiful. round and round the people walked to the strains of their national music, among them dozens upon dozens of the ever-present little black-and-tan policemen, who constitute the republic's standing army. as the evening drew on, kirk became conscious of an unwonted sensation. once before he had had the same feeling--while on a moose-trail in maine. but now there was no guide, with a packful of food, to come to his relief, and he could not muster up the spirit that enables men to bear vacation hardships with cheerfulness. he began to wonder whether a fast of twenty-four hours would seriously weaken a man, and, rather than make the experiment, he again called up the tivoli, rejoicing anew in the fact that there was no toll on isthmian messages. but again he was disappointed. this time he was told that the cortlandts were doubtless spending the night out of town with friends. soon after his second return to the park, the concert ended, the crowd melted away, and he found himself occupying a bench with a negro of about the same age as himself. for perhaps an hour the two sat there hearkening to the dying noises of the city; then kirk, unable to endure the monotony longer, turned sharply on his companion and said: "why don't you go home?" the negro started, his eyes flew open, then he laughed: "oh, boss, i got no home." "really?" "no, sar." kirk reflected that he had found not only the right place, but also fitting company, for his vigil. "what does a person do in that case?" he asked. "oh, he goes to work, sar." "for the night, i mean. are you going to stay here until morning?" "yes, sar, if the policeman will h'admit of it." the fellow's dialect was so strange that kirk inquired: "where did you come from?" "jamaica, sar. i was barn on the narth coast of the h'island, sar." "did you just arrive here?" "oh, lard, no! i 'ave been a liver here for two year." "a liver!" kirk could not help smiling. "yes, sar! sometimes i labor on the docks, again in the h'office. lahst week lose i my position, and to-day my room h'also. landladies is bad females, sar, very common." "you've been shooting craps," said kirk, accusingly. "crops, sar! what is crops?" "you don't know what craps is! i mean you've been gambling." "oh, boss, i h'invest my money." "indeed!" "lahst sunday nearly won i the big prize. i 'ad h'all but three numbers." "lottery ticket, eh?" "h'eight! h'eight chawnces in all," the negro sighed. "but dreams is false, sar." "so i've heard. well, it seems we're in the same boat this beautiful evening. i have no place to sleep, either." "you are humbugging me." "no, i'm flat broke." "oh, chot me true, mon." "i am chatting you true. i'm an outcast of fortune like yourself." "such talk! you make i laugh this house." "what?" "you make i laugh," repeated the other in a broad devonshire dialect. "praise god, you h'appear like a gentleman." "i trust this little experience will not permanently affect my social standing. by-the-way, what is your name?" "h'allan." "hallan?" "no, sar. h'allan." "is that your first or last name?" "both, sar--h'allan h'allan." "mr. allan allan, you're unusually dark for a scotchman," said kirk, gravely. "now, speaking as one gentleman to another, do you happen to know where we can get a hand-out?" "'and-out?" inquired the puzzled negro. "yes; a lunch. can't you lead me to a banana vine or a breadfruit bakery? i'm starving. they grow the finest cocoanuts in the world right here--worth five cents apiece; they require no care, have no worms, no bugs. you sit still and they drop in your lap. can't you show me a tree where we can sit and wait for something to drop?" allan replied, seriously: "but when the cocoanut falls, it is no good for h'eating, sar. the milk is h'acid." "i see you have a sense of humor; you should be in the consular service. but h'acid or sweet, h'eating or cooling, i must get something into my stomach--it's as flat as a wet envelope." the jamaican rose, saying: "step this way, please. i know the place where a very good female is. per'aps she will make us a present." "how far is it?" "oh, not too far," allan replied, optimistically, and kirk hopefully followed him. but at the opposite side of the square they were halted by a sudden commotion which drove all thoughts of food out of their minds. from a building across the street issued a bugle-call, upon which an indescribable confusion broke forth. men began running to and fro; a voice in authority shouted orders, each of which was the signal for another bugle-call. through the wide-open doors the panamanians could be seen, scurrying around a hose-cart, apparently in search of clothes; some were struggling into red shirts, others were stamping their feet into short boots or girding themselves with wide canvas belts. meanwhile, the chief issued more orders and the bugle continued to blow. "oh, look, boss!" allan cried, quickly. "there must be a 'flagration." "it's a spiggoty hose company, as i live. come on!" already a glare could be seen above the crowded portion of the city, and the two set off in that direction at a run, leaving the bugle sounding in the rear and the gallant firemen still wrestling with their uniforms. they had nearly reached the fire when around a corner back of them, with frightful speed and clangor, came a modern automobile fire-truck, clinging to which was a swarm of little brown men in red shirts and helmets. they reminded the american of monkeys on a circus horse, and, although he had been counted a reckless driver, he exclaimed in astonishment at the daring way in which the chauffeur took the turn. it was truly amazing, for the machine, which was the latest improvement in imported fire-fighting machinery, skidded the full width of the street, threatening to rip its tires off and turn turtle, then leaped upon the curb before its driver could straighten it up, and in a magnificent sweep carried away the wooden supports of an overhanging balcony. the timbers parted like straws; there came a shrill uproar from inside the building as the sleeping occupants poured forth, but without a pause the yankee machine whizzed on up the street, its gong clanging, its occupants holding on for dear life, the peaceful inhabitants of colon fleeing from its path like quail before the hoofs of a runaway horse. "hit her up!" kirk yelled, delightedly, then leaned against a lamp-post and laughed until he was weak. in the midst of his merriment appeared the company he had just seen making up. they had found their uniforms at last, it seemed, down to the final belt and shoelace, and now came charging gallantly along in the tracks of the more speedy motor. they were drawing their hand-reel, each brave lad tugging lustily and panting with fatigue. kirk and his guide fell in behind and jogged to the scene of the conflagration. a three-storied building was already half gutted; out of its windows roared long, fiery tongues; the structure snapped and volleyed a chorus to the sullen monotone of destruction. the street was littered with the household belongings of the neighborhood, and from the galleries and windows near by came such a flight of miscellaneous articles as to menace the safety of those below. men shouted, women screamed, children shrieked, figures appeared upon the fire-lit balconies hurling forth armfuls of cooking utensils, bedding, lamps, food, and furniture, utterly careless of where they fell or of the damage they suffered. kirk saw one man fling a graphophone from a top window, then lower a mattress with a rope. on all sides was a bedlam which the arrival of the firemen only augmented. the fire captains shouted orders to the buglers, the buglers blew feebly upon their horns, the companies deployed in obedience to the bugles, then everybody waited for further directions. again the trumpet sounded, whereupon each fireman began to interfere with his neighbor; a series of quarrels arose as couplings were made or broken; then, after an interminable delay, water began to flow, as if by a miracle. but except in rare instances it failed to reach the flames. a ladder-truck, drawn by another excited company, now rumbled upon the scene, its arrival adding to the general disorder. meanwhile, the steady tradewind fanned the blaze to ever-growing proportions. "why the devil don't they get closer?" kirk inquired of his jamaican companion. allan's eyes were wide and ringed with white; his teeth gleamed in a grin of ecstasy as he replied: "oh, lard, my god, it is too 'ot, sar; greatly too 'ot! it would take a stout 'eart to do such a thing." "nonsense! they'll never put it out this way. hey!" kirk attracted the attention of a near-by nozzleman. "walk up to it. it won't bite you." but the valiant fire-fighter held stubbornly to his post, while the stream he directed continued to describe a graceful curve and spatter upon the sidewalk in front of the burning building. "you're spoiling that old woman's bed," anthony warned him, at which a policeman with drawn club forced him back as if resentful of criticism. other peace officers compelled the crowd to give way, then fell upon the distracted property holders and beat them off their piles of furniture. for perhaps ten minutes there was no further change in the situation; then a great shout arose as it was seen that the roof of the adjoining building had burst into flame. at this the fanfare of trumpets sounded again; firemen rushed down the street, dragging a line of hose and drenching the onlookers. but, despite their hurry, they halted too soon, and their stream just failed to reach the blazing roof. by now the heat had grown really intense, and the more hardy heroes in the vanguard retreated to less trying positions. the voice of the crowd had arisen to a roar rivalling that of the flames. "they must intend to let the whole town burn!" cried anthony. "yes, sar! very probably, sar." kirk pointed to the nearest fireman. "if he'd get up under that wall he could save the roof and be out of the heat." he undertook to convey this suggestion to the fellow, but without result. "i can't stand this," he exclaimed at last. "let's give him a hand, allan." "very well, sar." "here! help me get a kink in this hose. there! now you hold it until you feel me pull." kirk forced his way out through the crowd, to find the fireman holding the nozzle, from which a feeble stream was dribbling, and mechanically directing it at the fire. kirk laid hold of the canvas and, with a heave, dragged it, along with its rightful guardian, ten feet forward; but there had been no bugle-blown order for this, and the uniformed man pulled backward with all his might, chattering at kirk in spanish. "well, then let go." anthony shook the panamannikin loose, then ran forward across the street until he brought up at the end of the slack and felt the hose behind him writhe and swell as allan released his hold. the next instant the negro was at his side, and the two found themselves half blistered by the heat that rolled out upon them. but the newly ignited roof was within range, and the stream they played upon it made the shingles fly. "oh, lard!" allan was crying. "oh, lard! i shall h'expire." "pull down your hat and shield your face." the fireman they had despoiled began to drag at the hose from a safe distance; but when kirk made as if to turn the nozzle upon him he scampered away amid the jeers of the crowd. a few moments later, the american felt a hand upon his arm and saw an angry policeman who was evidently ordering him back. behind him stood the excited nozzleman with two companions. "he says you should return the 'ose where you found it," allan translated. "leave us alone," kirk replied. "you fellows help the others; we'll attend to this." more rapid words and gesticulations followed, in the midst of which a dapper young man in a uniform somewhat more impressive than the others dashed up, flung himself upon anthony and endeavored to wrench the hose from his hands. meanwhile he uttered epithets in broken english which the other had no difficulty in understanding. kirk promptly turned the nozzle upon him, and the full force of colon's water-pressure struck him squarely in the stomach, doubling him up like the kick of a mule. down the newcomer went, then half rolled, half slid across the street as the stream continued to play upon him. he scrambled to his feet, a sorry spectacle of waving arms and dripping garments, his cries of rage drowned in the delighted clamor of the beholders. "i guess they'll keep away now," laughed kirk, as he turned back to his self-appointed task. but allan exclaimed, fearfully: "oh, boss, i fear he is some 'igh h'officer." "never mind. we're having a lot of fun. it's medals for us--gold medals for bravery, allan. to-morrow the board of aldermen will thank us." but this prediction seemed ill-founded. an instant later a half-dozen policemen advanced in a businesslike manner, and their leader announced: "come! you are arrest." "pinched! what for? we're doing a lot of good here." "come, queeck!" "oh, lard, my god!" allan mumbled. "i shall die and kill myself." "they won't do anything to us," kirk assured him. "i've been pinched lots of times. we'll have to quit, though, and that's a pity. it was just getting good." he surrendered the hose to a fireman, who promptly retreated with it to a discreet position, then followed his captors, who were now buzzing like bees. "don't get excited," he said to allan, noting his frightened look. "they'll turn us loose all right." but a moment after they were clear of the town he was surprised to see that the negro's captors had snapped "come-alongs" upon him in spite of his repeated promises to go quietly. these handcuffs, kirk saw, were of the type used upon desperate criminals, consisting of chains fitted with handles so contrived that a mere twist of the officer's hand would cut the prisoner's flesh to the bone. "you don't need to do that," he assured the fellow who had made the arrest, but, instead of heeding his words, the men on each side of the jamaican twisted stoutly, forcing the black boy to cry out in pain. he hung back, protesting: "all right, sar, i'll come. i'll come." but again they tightened their instruments of torture, and their victim began to struggle. at this an evil-faced man in blue struck him brutally upon the head with his club, then upon the shoulders, as if to silence his groans. the boy flung up his manacled hands to shield himself, and the light from a street lamp showed blood flowing where the chains had cut. the whole proceeding was so unprovoked, so sickening in its cruelty, that kirk, who until this instant had looked upon the affair as a rather enjoyable lark, flew into a fury and, disregarding his own captors, leaped forward before the policeman could strike a third time. he swung his fist, and the man with the club hurtled across the street as if shot from a bow, then lay still in the gutter. with another blow he felled one of the handcuff-men, but at the same time other hands grasped at him and he was forced to lay about vigorously on all sides. they rushed him with the ferocity of mad dogs, and he knocked them spinning, one after another. a whistle blew shrilly, other uniforms came running, more whistles piped, and almost before he realized it he found himself in the centre of a pack of lean-faced brown men who were struggling to pull him down and striking at him with their clubs. with a sudden wild thrill he realized that this was no ordinary street fight; this was deadly; he must beat off these fellows or be killed. but, as fast as he cleared them away, others appeared as if by magic, until a dozen or more were swarming upon him like hungry ants. they clung to his arms, his legs, his clothing, with a desperate courage wholly admirable in itself, while strokes were aimed at him from every quarter. time and again they dragged him off his feet, only to have him shake them loose. but though most of their blows went wild or found a mark among their own numbers, he was felled at last, and a moment later, with head reeling and wits flickering, he was dragged to his knees by handcuffs like those on allan's wrists. the pain as the chains bit into his flesh brought him to his feet despite the blows and kicks that were rained upon him, crying hoarsely: "let me go, damn you! let me go!" but a wrench at the gyves took the fight out of him, for he felt that the bones in his wrists must surely be crushed. one side of his head was strangely big and numb; a warm stream trickled down his cheek; but he had no time to think of his condition, for his assailants fell upon him with fresh fury, and he reeled about, striving to shield himself. every movement, however, was construed as resistance, and his punishment continued, until at last he must have fainted from pain or had his wits scattered by a blow on the head; for when he recovered consciousness he found himself in a filthy, ill-lighted room, flung upon a wooden platform that ran along the wall, evidently serving as a bed. near him allan was huddled, his black face distorted with pain and ashen with apprehension. viii el comandante takes a hand "where are we?" queried anthony, as he took in the surroundings. "this is the prison, sar." "gee! i'm sick." kirk lay back upon the platform and closed his eyes. "did they hurt you much?" "oh yes. very considerably." "sorry i got you into it, allan, i never thought they'd be so cranky." again he groaned. "i want a drink." "let me get it. those spiggoties will not give it to you." allan went to the door and called to the guard. an instant later he returned with a tin cup. "i guess they knocked me out," kirk said, dazedly. "i never was hit like that before--and jailed! say! we must get out of her. call the chief or the man in charge, will you? i can't speak the language." "please, sar, if you h'anger them they will beat us again." "beat! not here?" "oh yes. they might kill us." "they wouldn't do that!" "a white man they killed lahst h'autumn, and several of my people have passed away in this prison. nobody can 'ear nothing. nobody knows what 'appens 'ere." "oh, well, they wouldn't dare touch us--i'm an american citizen. i'll notify the consul." roused at the mere suggestion. kirk staggered to the door and shouted lustily. when no one answered, he shook the iron grating, whereupon a guard leisurely approached, and, after listening stolidly to his request, went back to his post at the other end of the hall. this time the american sent forth such an uproar that a man evidently corresponding in authority to a sergeant appeared with the command to be quiet. "let me out of here!" loudly demanded the prisoner. "i want the chief, or the alcalde, or somebody in charge. i want to know what i'm booked for, i want to telephone--telephone, don't you understand?--and arrange bail. quick, now!" but the officer merely frowned at him, obviously threatening a resort to force if this outburst did not cease at once. "i tell you i want to get out," insisted kirk. "i want to know what i'm charged with and have my friends get bail." the man nodded his understanding and went away, but an hour passed and he did not return. then another hour followed, and anthony, who had now begun to feel the effect of his drubbing more keenly, renewed his clamor, with the result that a half-dozen policemen appeared, causing allan to retreat to a corner and mumble prayers. from their demeanor it looked as though they were really bent upon mischief, but kirk soon saw that an official had come in answer to his call. he felt less reassured when he perceived that the person in uniform who now stepped forward was the same upon whom he had turned the hose earlier in the evening. this was a black-haired, black-eyed young fellow of, perhaps, thirty. while his skin was swarthy, even in this poor light it could be seen that he was of the real castilian type and of a much better class than the others. he was slender and straight, his mouth small and decorated by a carefully pencilled little mustache, which was groomed to a needle sharpness. his hands and feet were as dainty as those of a woman. he was undeniably striking in appearance, and might have passed for handsome had it not been for the scowl that distorted his features. "eh! 'ere you are," he began, angrily. "yes; i want to get out, too. what does this treatment mean?" the new-comer stepped toward the other occupant of the cell, at which allan broke out in terror: "don't you touch me. i'm a british object." but it was evidently not the man's intention to offer any further indignity to his prisoners at that time. after scanning the jamaican carefully, he issued an order to one of his men, who left the room. "and i'm an american," anthony declared. "you'll have to answer for this." "per'aps you don' know who i am. i am ramon alfarez, comandante of police, an' you dare' to t'row the water of the 'ose-wagon upon my person. your gover'ment will settle for those insolt." his white teeth showed in a furious snarl. "i don't give a damn who you are. i'll get bail or do whatever your law requires, but i want to get out and i want to get out now." the commandant's eyes flashed as he asked, shortly. "w'at is your name?" "anthony. your men tried to kill that boy, and when i wouldn't stand for it they beat me up." "you strock me wit' the water of the 'ose-carriage," repeated the other. "you 'ave assault the dignity of my country." "i didn't know who you were. i was helping to stop that fire when you butted in. now, are you going to let me out, or do you want my people to pull this jail down around your ears?" at this threat senor alfarez restrained his rage with an obvious effort. "you will reply to those outrage, senor." "sure, i'll reply. but in the mean time i want to telephone to the american consul. look at this!" the young man held out his shaking, swollen wrists, upon which the blood was scarcely dry. "look at it! those runts of yours got handcuffs on me and then beat me up. i'm sick. so's that boy. we need a doctor." alfarez shook his head. "you resis' the police. even in your country one mus' not do that. 'ave i been there, i would keel you both, but i am 'aving a cheel at the moment from those stream of col' water." "will you take me to a telephone?" "it is not permit." "will you notify mr. weeks?" receiving no reply to this request, kirk broke out: "well, then, what are you going to do? let us stay here all night?" "w'at is your bizness?" "i haven't any." "you don' work on the canal?" "no. i'm a tourist. my father is a big railroad man in the states. i'm telling you this so you'll know how to act." "w'ere do you leeve--w'at 'otel?" "i've been stopping with mr. weeks." senor alfarez's attitude became somewhat less overbearing. "in due time he will be notify of your outrage to my person," he announced. the fellow who had left the room a moment before now reappeared, carrying a bucket of water and some towels, with which he directed allan to remove the blood from his face and hands. when it came kirk's turn, however, he objected. "i think i'll wait until weeks sees me," he said. but alfarez retorted, sharply: "it is not permit"; and, seeing that resistance would be useless, kirk acquiesced as gracefully as he could, remarking as he did so: "you'll have hard work washing off this, and this." he indicated the traces of the handcuffs and the gash in his scalp. the commandant turned to his men and addressed them at some length, calling them to task, as allan later informed his companion, for using their clubs in a manner to mark their prisoners so conspicuously. then he followed them into the corridor, closing the grating behind him. the hours passed, and daylight came with no word from the american consul. by this time the two prisoners were really in need of medical attention. their contusions pained them severely. kirk felt as if one or more of his ribs were broken, and his suffering, combined with hunger, prevented sleep. he became feverish and fretful, but his demands for communication with the outside world were calmly ignored, although he felt certain that his wishes were fully understood. when the morning had passed without his being arraigned for a hearing he grew alarmed. evidently he had been flung into confinement and forgotten. eventually kirk and allan were given food, but still no one came to their relief. apparently no message had been delivered. this treatment was so atrocious, so at variance with anthony's ideas of his own importance, that he felt he must be suffering from nightmare. how dared they treat an american so, no matter what the charge? why didn't they try him or give him a hearing? these insolent, overbearing panamaniacs had no regard for law or humanity, and this was no longer a question of petty injustice; it was a grave infraction of civilized equity. but the afternoon wore on without an encouraging sign, till kirk began to think that weeks had refused to intercede for him and intended to leave him to the mercies of his enemies. with difficulty he managed to convey to a guard his desire to notify some of the other americans in the city, but as usual no heed was paid to his request. it was considerably after dark when a visitor was at last admitted. he proved to be the english consul, whom anthony had never met. "what are you doing here?" the new-comer inquired. then, when the facts had been laid before him, he exclaimed: "why, i heard that a jamaican negro had been arrested, but i heard nothing about mistreatment of a white man." "doesn't anybody know i'm here?" "i'm sure no one does. those heathens lied to you--they never communicated with weeks or anybody. they're afraid. this is an old trick of theirs--man-handling a prisoner, then keeping him hidden until he recovers. if he doesn't recover they get out of it on some excuse or other, as best they can. why, they killed a white sailor not long ago--just plain clubbed him to death without excuse, then asserted that he resisted arrest. they did the same to one of our negroes. he died in the jail before i got wind of it, and when i started an investigation they showed his signed statement declaring that he had not been abused at all, and had been given the kindest treatment. the matter isn't settled yet. it's infamous! why, i had hard work to get in at all just now. but i'll have allan here out in two hours or i'll know the reason. england protects her subjects, mr. anthony, and these people know it. if they don't come to time i'll have a gunboat in the harbor in twenty-four hours. color doesn't amount to a damn with us, sir; it's the flag." "i guess uncle sam is strong enough to command respect," said anthony. "well, i know the circumstances now, and i'll go straight to weeks. he can arrange your release without trouble. if you were an englishman, i'd have you out in no time, and you'd collect handsome damages, too. this boy will." true to the consul's prediction, a little later the jamaican was led out of the cell, and from the fact that he was not brought back kirk judged that the british intervention had been effectual. but it was not until the next morning, the second of his imprisonment, that the cell door opened once more, this time to admit the portly figure of john weeks and the spruce person of senor ramon alfarez. "what's all this trouble about?" inquired the former in none too amiable a tone. kirk told his story as briefly and convincingly as he could. but when he had finished, the consul shook his head. "i don't see what i can do for you," he said. "according to your own declaration you resisted a police officer. you'll have to take your medicine." alfarez nodded agreement. "quite right!" said he. "he did terrible 'avoc with my men, t'ree of which is now on the 'ospital." "but why don't they try me or let me get bail? i want to get out." "you'll be tried as soon as they get around to it." "look here!" kirk showed the marks his assailants had left upon him. "will you stand for that? i've been here two nights now without medical attention." "how about that, alfarez?" the commandant shrugged his shoulders. "if he require a doctor, one shall be secure', but he is not severely injure.' i 'ave explain the frightful indignity to the honor of my person, yes? as for me, pooh! it is forget." he waved his hand gracefully and smiled sweetly upon his fat visitor. "it does not exist. but the brave soldiers of mine! ah! senor wick, they lofe me, they cannot forget the honor of el comandante. so! when the prisoner is decide to insurrect, who can say those gallant soldier don' be too strong? who can blame for making roff-'ouse?" "i guess you ain't hurt much," said weeks, eying his countryman coldly. "you didn't get any more than was coming to you." "i won't stand for this," cried the prisoner, hotly. "the english consul got that nigger boy out, and i want you to do the same for me." "you don't understand. i've got business interests in this country, and i can't dash about creating international issues every time an american gets locked up for disorderly conduct. how long do you think i'd last with these people if i did that?" "are you really afraid to do anything?" kirk inquired, slowly. "or is it because of our row?" "oh, there's nothing personal about it! i can't afford personal feelings in my position. really, i don't see where you're so much abused. you assaulted a government officer and resisted arrest. if you got hurt it's your own fault. of course i'll see that you have a fair trial." the commandant spoke up with ingratiating politeness: "the prisoner say he is reech man's son. now, of course, it is too bad he is injure' wit' the clob of the policeman; but those officer is ver' polite, senor, and if he is explain biffore--" weeks snorted indignantly. "he gave you that fairy tale, eh? he said his name was anthony and his father was a railroad president, didn't he? well, he imposed on me, too, but his name is locke, and, as near as i can learn, he practically stowed away on the santa cruz." "ah-h!" the officer's eyes widened as he turned them upon his prisoner. "he is then a w'at you call tramp." "all i know is, he stuck me for a lot of bills. i'll have to see that he gets fair treatment, i suppose, because he's an american, but that ends my duty." "is this the best you'll do for me?" kirk inquired, as weeks made ready to go. "yes." "will you tell some of the men at the wayfarers that i'm here?" "oh, that won't do any good. you're in for it, locke, so don't holler. i'll be on hand at your hearing." "will you cable my father?" "at twenty-five cents a word? hardly!" the speaker mopped his face, exclaiming: "there's no use of talking, i've got to get out in the air; it's too hot in here for me." then he waddled out ahead of senor alfarez, who slammed the door behind him as he followed to escort his caller to the street. but a half-hour later the commandant returned to the cell, and this time he brought with him a number of his little policemen, each armed with a club. feeling some menace in their coming, kirk, who had seated himself dejectedly, arose to ask: "what's coming off?" alfarez merely issued some directions in spanish, and chain handcuffs were once more snapped upon the prisoner's wrists. "so! you're going to hold my trial, eh?" cried kirk. but the other snarled: "senor locke, you 'ave force' the water of the 'ose-wagon upon my body for making the people laugh. bueno! now i shall laugh." he seated himself, then nodded at his men to begin. ix spanish law mrs. cortlandt answered her telephone for the second time, repeating with some impatience: "tell the man i can't see him." "but he refuses to leave--says he must see you at once; it's important," came the voice of the clerk. "oh, very well. i'll come down." she hung up the receiver with a snap. "why don't they send him up?" queried her husband from the sitting-room. "it's a negro, and the clerk says he'd rather not allow him up-stairs. another sick family, i suppose." "they're beginning to impose on you. it's usually that way with charities," said cortlandt. with unfeminine neglect of the chance for petty discussion, his wife left the room without replying, and descended to the hotel lobby. here she was directed toward a very ragged, very woe-begone young black on the rear porch, who, at sight of her, began to fumble his hat and run his words together so excitedly that she was forced to calm him. "now, now! i can't understand a word. who are you?" "h'allan, mistress." "you say some one is ill?" "oh yes, he is very h'ill h'indeed, mistress--h'all covered with blood and his poor 'ands h'all cut." "who--?" "and his 'ead--oh, lard! his 'ead is cut, too, and he suffers a fever." "who is it?" "mr. h'auntony--" "anthony!" mrs. cortlandt started. "what has happened? quick!" seeing that at last he had found a friend, the jamaican began to sob with relief, wailing extravagant praises to god and apparently endeavoring to kiss mrs. cortlandt's hand, whereat she seized him by the shoulders and shook him, crying: "stop that! behave yourself and tell me what is the trouble, quickly now, from the beginning." without drying his tears, allan launched himself into the full violence of his recital, stumbling recklessly over his figures of speech, lapsing into idioms that it taxed his hearer to follow. had she been less acquainted with the caribbean dialects she would have missed much of the story, but, as it was, she followed him closely, urging him on with sharp expressions of amazement and nods of understanding. rapidly she gathered the facts of the case, while her cheeks whitened and her eyes grew dark with indignation. the sight renewed allan's emotion. his voice broke, his black hands shook, he began to sob once more, and great tears stole down his ebony cheeks. but he managed to answer her terse, shocked questions with some degree of intelligence, calling upon his vivid imagination for such details as his memory had lost. "i wait an' wait for him to h'emerge, but he does not come. perhaps they 'ave killed the poor mon once more." "how did you get here?" "with my feet, mistress. sometimes rode i on the train, but the train people are very common; they h'addressed me rudely and threw me by the wayside." "couldn't you telephone?" "i do not h'understand 'ow." "why didn't he notify me at once? if i had only known--" "those 'eartless spiggoties would not h'allow it. oh, you will h'assist the poor mon! say it. praise be to god, he is bleeding in the prison--" "yes, yes, certainly." allan reached clumsily this time to kiss the hem of her skirt, but she stepped aside quickly, fumbling meanwhile in her purse for a bank-note, while he exclaimed: "god bless you, good mistress. he told me to find you and present his recital." "here, take this money and go back to colon by the first train. we may need you. now go! i'll be there ahead of you." she picked up her white skirts and ran up the hotel stairs as if pursued, bursting in upon her husband so impetuously that he rose in surprise, inquiring: "what is it?" "young anthony is in jail in colon," she panted. "he's been locked up for three days, and they won't let him out." "the devil! you said he'd gone back to new york. what is it about?" "i thought he had. they arrested him for some silly thing, and he's hurt." she hurriedly recounted allan's story, adding, in conclusion, "that black boy came all the way across the isthmus to tell us!" "i'll get the american consul by 'phone--" but mrs. cortlandt interrupted. "weeks is a fool! he wouldn't do anything. wait!" she stepped to the instrument and rang violently. "give me colonel jolson's office, quickly. if he is not there, find him. i don't care where he is, find him; it is important. this is mrs. cortlandt speaking.' "what do you mean to do?" said cortlandt. "go to colon at once. this is young alfarez's doing--the whipper-snapper--you must lay him out for this. how dare he!" "better go carefully. remember, general alfarez is his father." "i understand. but we are bound to come to a breach sooner or later." "i hardly think so. i believe we can bring him around all right--anyhow, i haven't lost hope." then, as his wife made an impatient gesture: "well, if we precipitate a quarrel now, that will end it." he paced the room feverishly. "good heavens, edith! anthony chose the worst possible time for this escapade. i suppose it will mean diplomatic difficulties and all that, and once we lose old alfarez--" "we will lose him anyhow," snapped the woman. "i've seen it coming, although you could not. i'll break ramon for this." "then you'll break us." cortlandt stared gloomily at his wife, who met his gaze squarely. "do you think anthony is worth it?" "my dear stephen, they nearly killed that poor boy, and i sha'n't allow it. don anibal alfarez is not the only presidential timber in the republic. if he breaks with us it will cost him dearly. you think he is friendly, but i know that deep down in his crafty old heart he despises all us americans and is only waiting a chance to gratify his spleen. the moment he dares, he'll turn against us." cortlandt's frosty countenance showed signs of unusual agitation as he answered: "you're mad! you threaten to ruin everything. you understand perfectly--there's no use of my explaining. let me call on him this afternoon. he will instruct his son." "no! he would procrastinate, as usual. there would be the customary delays and excuses, and meanwhile anthony would be in jail at colon. they would have a defence all prepared. besides, if it's to be a fight we must have all the weapons possible--and this affair may prove a good one. anyhow, you mustn't ask a favor of him at this time; he must ask, not you." the telephone rang, and the speaker snatched the receiver from its hook. "hello! colonel jolson, i'm very glad i caught you. this is mrs. cortlandt. colonel jolson, young ramon alfarez has arrested kirk anthony, of whom i spoke to you. they have maltreated him, as usual, and have hidden him for three days. yes, yes! i discovered it quite by accident while mr. cortlandt was down-town. oh, this is serious, and i'm furious. ... that will do no good; i have reasons for preferring to handle it myself. ... thank you for the compliment. we must go to colon at once, and i thought you might give us a special." there was a slight pause, then: "good! that will do quite as well. in fifteen minutes. thank you. good-bye." turning to her husband, she explained, swiftly: "the colonel's automobile will be waiting at the station in fifteen minutes. are you ready?" "i think you are going about this in the wrong way," he said, coldly. "when will you learn--?" she checked her crisp words at the flush that leaped to his cheeks. "i beg your pardon, stephen. please do as colonel jolson has done and trust me to manage this affair." he bowed and left her, saying, "i will have a coach waiting at the door." fifteen minutes later a gasoline railroad motor-car with two passengers in addition to its driver and flagman rolled out of the yards at panama city and took the main line, running under orders like a special train. as it clanked over the switches with ever-increasing speed, mrs. cortlandt leaned forward and spoke to the driver. "we will have a clear track, and you may go as fast as you like." the next moment the machine was reeling drunkenly around curves and a fifty-mile gale was roaring past. senor ramen alfarez was considerably nonplussed when his two distinguished visitors made known the nature of their errand. cortlandt did most of the talking, his cold hauteur serving a good purpose and contrasting strongly with the suppressed excitement of his wife. "pardon me, there is no necessity for delay," he said, as the commandant endeavored to formulate an excuse. "i trust i need not insist upon seeing the prisoner?" he raised his brows with a stare of inquiry that caused the other to reply, hastily: "of a certainty not, senor." "then take us to him." "i will spare your lady the painful sight of the prison-house. the prisoner shall be fetch' with all despatch." "we will see him alone." again the commandant hesitated, while his bright eyes searched their faces with a sudden uneasy curiosity. "i am fear soch t'ing is not permit'." "nonsense!" exclaimed mrs. cortlandt, unable longer to restrain herself. "we know the law quite as well or perhaps better than you, senor alfarez. if you wish, mr. cortlandt will get permission from the president. you have a telephone?" "oh, soch is farthes' remove' from my thoughts," quickly interposed the commandant, with his most graceful bow. "if it is in my power to oblige, w'at matter the law? pouf! w'at i mean is this: our prisoner is not what you call seeck, nor is he ver' well. he is resis' the officer by force an' he is injure'--oh, but only a leetle--it is not'ing. one is truly foolish for resis' the policemans, yes?" he shook his dark head sadly. "i am desolate to 'ear of soch t'ing; it is so useless to stroggle wit' the officer in disbursement of duty; but you americans are so brave! i am force' to admire this prisoner; he is soch a strong fellow." "i think we understand the circumstances." instead of ringing for an orderly the commandant excused himself, then, after a seemingly interminable delay returned with anthony and several policemen. at sight of his friends the young man made for them eagerly, crying: "jove, i'm glad you came! i'd about given you up." "allan only found us to-day," mrs. cortlandt replied. "did he tell the truth? have you been abused?" the young man turned a pair of smouldering eyes upon his enemies. he looked ill and haggard, although, except for the wound half concealed beneath his hair, he showed no marks. then he held out his hands with a grim smile, and the woman uttered a low cry at what she saw. "they gave me another good beating yesterday," he said. "while you were in jail?" cortlandt queried, incredulously. "god!" "that's the fellow yonder." kirk pointed to alfarez, whose smile had disappeared. "oh, the man is mistake'," the latter hastened to aver. "he is crazee." "i gave you a wetting in public, and--" "si, si! that is correc', senor cortlan'. he insolt my person an' fight my soldiers. he is ver' toff person." "did you know he had been maltreated in prison?" cortlandt demanded. "oh, senor!" alfarez raised his hands in horrified disclaimer of the very thought, but his victim said, quietly: "he's a liar. he ordered it, then sat there and enjoyed it." the panamanian's face was yellow as he managed to enunciate: "eempossible! it is terrible to conceive!" kirk made a threatening movement in the spaniard's direction, despite the half-dozen soldiers, but edith cortlandt checked him. "wait, please," she said. then to the commandant: "this is a serious matter, and if what he says is true, your government will find itself in trouble." "but we 'ave no idea he is frien' of yours. if he should only spik your 'osban's name, all would be different. for my part, i can prove he is treat' with the 'ighes' courtesy an' kindness in my presence. every man in the prison will testify to those fac'. if soch indignity 'ave be' shown, there shall be investigations." the unhappy officer's excitement was increasing, and he turned upon his men as if to make good his word, when cortlandt interposed: "why did you keep him locked up so long? why didn't you try him?" "ah! for that i shall inquire also. i shall conduct investigations in that respect as well. i am inform', 'owever, that the w'at you call jodge is seeck." "we'll look into that later. we're here now to arrange for mr. anthony's release." "the alcalde will be please' to accommodate at the earlies'. i myself shall see to it. to-morrow--" "there will be no to-morrow about it," mrs. cortlandt exclaimed, positively. "if you cannot arrange the bail yourself, my husband will take up the matter with the zone government, and colonel jolson will call upon the president of the republic within an hour. he is waiting word from us now." senor ramon alfarez became suddenly galvanized. he broke into effusive apologies for even so small a delay as had already occurred. he had not understood the matter to be so urgent, it seemed; but the wishes of his distinguished guests were his law, and perhaps he might hasten the wheels of progress if he tried. while, to be sure, no power was vested in him, and his willing hands were most miserably tied, nevertheless he would so far exceed his authority as to promise instant freedom to the prisoner. there were, of course, certain details to be observed, the necessity of which filled him with unspeakable regret; but if he might be excused--he hastened forth to set in motion the proper machinery, and while he was absent kirk told his story. it left the woman white-lipped and incoherent, and roused even the icy cortlandt to genuine wrath. "of course," the latter said, "alfarez will prove by his men that it's all imagination on your part, and that your injuries were sustained at the time of your arrest. he'll assume a righteous indignation and start a spiggoty investigation. you see, his father is the governor of panama province and one of the strongest men in the republic, so ramon will probably make good his position. even so, you may recover damages." "i don't want damages," kirk replied. "i want to get that dago out alone some time." "for heaven's sake, don't think of it!" mrs. cortlandt exclaimed. "all the american influence on the isthmus wouldn't help you then. fifty men would perjure themselves to convict you, and if you succeeded in getting our government to interfere in time, ramen has fifty other men who would lie to any extent to injure an american." "no. that method doesn't work here," her husband agreed. "you're lucky to escape so easily. he will arrange bail, never fear, and you will probably not come to trial. i doubt if you will ever hear anything more of the matter, provided you keep from further trouble. he'll never forgive you, of course, but that won't matter to you." the first part of mr. cortlandt's prediction was soon proved true, for the sick alcalde recovered sufficiently to appear on the scene within half an hour. then, after much signing of official documents and certain other formalities, kirk anthony walked out of the colon jail in company with his friends. allan was waiting at a safe distance from the municipal building, and on seeing his late companion at large he broke into the wildest rejoicing. he conjured a flow of tears, he fondled kirk's hand in his own, he laughed, he sobbed, he sang. "praise be to god!" he cried, loudly. "free mon you, master h'auntony. glory, glory! my soul was in 'ell, sar. on my knees i h'implored that fa-ast wretch to release you." his emotion appeared so genuine, his service had been so great, that the object of his adoration felt himself choke up. of all the people kirk had met since leaving home, this one had most occasion to blame him; yet the boy was in perfect transports of delight at his delivery. "don't carry on so," kirk laughed, awkwardly. "oh, boss, i feared they would h'assassinate you again." anthony nodded grimly. "they did." "oh, oh!" allan gave himself over to a shrill frenzy and shook his clenched fists at the jail in a splendidly tragic attitude. "wretches! murderers! 'ell-ca-ats!" "sh-h! don't make a scene on the street," mrs. cortlandt cautioned. but the jamaican would not allow the fine effect of his rage to be lost. he clashed his white teeth, he rolled his eyes fearfully, and twisted his black features into the wildest expressions of ferocity, crying: "h'allan will best them for that! let 'im tear h'out their 'earts by his fingers. so!" he made an eloquent gesture. "blood! blood!" "not so loud. a little pianissimo on the blood," smiled kirk. "h'allan would die and kill himself for you," the excited negro ran on in an excess of loyalty. "master h'auntony fought those wretches for i; i shall fight them for he." when he had finally been prevailed upon to exchange his martial threats for a fresh paean of rejoicing, he fell in behind, declaring firmly that he intended to follow his new-found hero wherever he might go, though the course laid were straight for those infernal regions that played so large a part in his fancy. in the midst of kirk's expressions of gratitude for the timely intercession of cortlandt and his wife, the former surprised him by saying, in a genuinely hearty tone: "my wife has told me all about you, anthony, and i want you to come over to panama as my guest until you hear from your father." when kirk informed him of the cablegram that had cast him adrift in panama, leading indirectly to his entanglement with the dignity of ramon alfarez and the spanish law, cortlandt replied, reassuringly: "oh, well, your father doesn't understand the facts in the case, that's all. you sit down like a sensible person and write him fully. it will be a great pleasure for us to have you at the tivoli in the mean time." seeing a warm second to this invitation in mrs. cortlandt's eyes, kirk accepted gracefully, explaining: "you know this is the first time i was ever up against hard luck, and i don't know just how to act." "we've missed the four-thirty-five, so we will have to return the way we came," said cortlandt. "i'd like to stop at gatun on a business matter of some importance, and if you don't mind a half-hour's delay, we'll do so." kirk expressed entire acquiescence in any plans that suited the convenience of his rescuers, and the three pursued their way to the station. but here an unexpected embarrassment arose. as they made ready to board colonel jolson's motor-car, they were annoyed to find that allan insisted on going, too. he insisted, moreover, in such extravagant fashion that mrs. cortlandt at last was moved to say: "for heaven's sake, let the poor thing come along." and thereafter the jamaican boy sat on the step of the machine, his hat in hand, his eyes rolled worshipfully upon the person of his hero, his shining face ever ready to break into a grin at a glance from kirk. once more the little automobile took on the dignity of a regular train and sped out of the network of tracks behind colon. as it gained speed mrs. cortlandt, to divert her guest's mind from his recent ordeal, began to explain the points of interest as they passed. she showed him the old french workings where a nation's hopes lay buried, the mechanical ruins that had cost a king's ransom, the mount hope cemetery, whither daily trains had borne the sacrifice before science had robbed the fever of its terrors. she told him, also, something of the railroad's history, how it had been built to bridge the gap in the route to the golden west, the manifold difficulties overcome in its construction, and the stupendous profits it had made. having the blood of a railroad-builder in his veins, anthony could not but feel the interest of all this, though it failed to take his attention wholly from the wonders of the landscape that slipped by on either side. it was his first glimpse of tropic vegetation, and he used his eyes to good advantage, while he listened politely to his informant. the matted thickets, interlaced with vine and creeper, were all ablaze with blossoms, for this was the wet season, in which nature runs riot. great trees of strange character rose out of the tangle, their branches looped with giant cables and burdened with flowering orchids or half hidden beneath other parasites. on every hand a vegetable warfare was in progress--a struggle for existence in which the strong overbore the weak--and every trunk was distorted by the scars of the battle. birds of bright plumage flashed in the glades, giant five-foot lizards scuttled away into the marshes or stared down from the overhanging branches. a vivid odor of growing, blooming herbage reached the nostrils. just as kirk had made up his mind that he could sit and watch this brilliant panorama forever, the jungle suddenly fell away, and the car sped up through low, grass-clad hills into a scattered city flung against the side of a wide valley. there was no sign here of latin america; this was yankeeland through and through. the houses, hundreds upon hundreds of them, were of the typical canal zone architecture, double-galleried and screened from foundation to eaves, and they rambled over the undulating pasture land in a magnificent disregard of distance. smooth macadam roads wound back and forth, over which government wagons rolled, drawn by sleek army mules; flower gardens blazed forth in gorgeous colors; women and children, all clean and white and american, were sitting upon the porches or playing in the yards. everywhere was a military neatness; the town was like the officers' quarters of a fort, the whole place spick and span and neatly groomed. colon had been surprisingly clean, but it was an unnatural cleanliness, as if the municipality had been scrubbed against its will. gatun was to the manner born. "yonder are the locks." cortlandt pointed to the west, and kirk saw below him an impressive array of pyramidal steel towers, from the pinnacles of which stretched a spider's web of cables. beneath this, he had a glimpse of some great activity, but his view was quickly cut off as the motor-car rumbled into a modern railway station. "i'd like to have a. look at what's going on over yonder," he said. "you will have time," cortlandt answered. "edith will show you about while i run in on colonel bland." out through the station-shed kirk's hostess led him, then across a level sward, pausing at length upon the brink of a mighty chasm. it took him a moment to grasp the sheer magnitude of the thing; then he broke into his first real expression of wonder: "why, i had no idea--really, this is tremendous." at his feet the earth opened in a giant, man-made canon, running from the valley above, through the low ridge and out below. within it an army was at work. along the margins of the excavation ran steel tracks, upon which were mounted the movable towers he had seen from a distance. these tapering structures bore aloft long, tautly drawn wire cables, spanning the gorge and supporting great buckets which soared at regular intervals back and forth, bearing concrete for the work below. up and out of the depths tremendous walls were growing like the massive ramparts of a mediaeval city; tremendous steel forms, braced and trussed and reinforced to withstand the weight of the countless tons, stood in regular patterns. in the floor of the chasm were mysterious pits, black tunnel mouths, in and out of which men crept like ants. far across on the opposite lip of the hill, little electric trains sped to and fro, apparently without the aid of human hands. everywhere was a steady, feverish activity. from the commanding eminence where the sightseers stood the spectacle was awe-inspiring; for though the whole vast work lay spread out beneath them in what looked like a hopeless confusion, yet as their eyes followed it a great and magic system became manifest. the whole organism seemed animate with some slow, intricate intelligence. the metal skips careening across those dizzy heights regulated their courses to a hand's-breadth, deposited their burdens carefully, then hurried back for more; the shuttle trains that dodged about so feverishly, untended and unguided, performed each some vital function. the great conglomerate body was dead, yet it pulsated with a life of its own. its effect of being governed by a single indwelling mind of superhuman capacity was overpowering. kirk heard mrs. cortlandt explaining: "the ships will steam up from the sea through the dredged channel you see over yonder, then they will be raised to the level of the lake." "what lake?" "that valley"--she indicated the tropical plain between the hills, wherein floating dredges were at work--"will be an inland sea. those forests will be under water." "where is the gatun dam i've heard so much about?" she pointed out a low, broad ridge or hog-back linking the hills together. "that is it. it doesn't look much like a dam, does it? but it is all hand-made. those are rock trains out there, from culebra." "oh, now i understand. gee whiz, but this job is a whopper! say, this is great!" mrs. cortlandt smiled. "it does wake up your patriotism, doesn't it? i'm glad to have a hand in building it." "are you helping to dig this canal?" anthony regarded the woman curiously. she seemed very cool and well-dressed and independent for one engaged in actual work. "of course! even though i don't happen to run a steam-shovel." "will they really finish it? won't something happen?" "it is already dug. the rest is merely a matter of excavation and concrete. the engineering difficulties have all been solved, and the big human machine has been built up. what is more important, the country is livable at last. over at ancon hospital there is a quiet, hard-working medical man who has made this thing possible. when the two oceans are joined together, and the job is finished, his will be the name most highly honored." "it must be nice to do something worth while," anthony mused, vaguely. "to do anything," his companion observed, with a shade of meaning; then: "it is amusing to look back on the old spanish statement that it would be impious to unite two oceans which the creator of the world had separated." noting that the sun was setting beyond the distant jungles and the canon at his feet was filling with shadows, kirk remarked, "it must be nearly time they quit work." "this work doesn't stop. when it grows dark the whole place is lit by electricity, and the concrete continues to pour in just the same. it is wonderful then--like the mouth of a volcano. batteries of search-lights play upon the men; the whole sky is like a furnace. you can see it for miles. now i think we had better go back to the car." in spite of his bodily misery, that night ride impressed itself strongly upon anthony's mind. the black mystery of the jungles, the half-suggested glimpses of river and hill, the towns that flashed past in an incandescent blaze and were buried again in the velvet blackness, the strange odors of a new land riotous in its time of growth, all combined to excite his curiosity and desire for closer knowledge. and then the crowning luxury of a bath, clean clothes, and a good meal on white linen and china! as he dropped asleep that night he reflected contentedly that, after all, things have a way of coming right in this world for those who accept them cheerfully as they come. x a change of plan on the following morning kirk despatched a long letter to his father, explaining, as well as he could, how he came to be in panama, and giving a detailed account of the events that had befallen him since his arrival. he would have preferred to cable this message collect, but mrs. cortlandt convinced him that he owed a fuller explanation than could well be sent over the wires. although he took this means of relieving his father's anxiety, he was far from resigning himself to a further delay of his return. on the contrary, he at once began an inquiry as to sailing dates, discovering, to his intense disgust, that no ship was scheduled to leave for new york within several days. he planned to borrow the passage money from his friends, when the time came, and accompany his letter northward. meanwhile he devoted his time to sight-seeing with his hostess. the city was old, there were many places of historic interest, and, although kirk cared little for such things, he found it easy to assume the virtue he did not possess. moreover, there was something contagious in his companion's enthusiasm. almost against his will he felt his appreciation growing, as he listened to her casual comments on the scenes they visited. her husband, who seemed busily engaged in work that barely allowed him time for his meals, seldom accompanied them on their excursions, and the two were thrown much into each other's society. edith cortlandt was a woman very sure of herself in most things. a situation that might have proved embarrassing to one less tactful she accepted quite as a matter of course, rather enjoying the exercise of her influence, and never doubting her power to keep the friendship on any footing she chose. kirk's frank, boyish gratitude for the favors he had received made it easy for her to encourage the growth of an intimacy that she acknowledged charming, while she sincerely believed that he would be helped by it. finding him responsive, she deliberately set herself to please him. she studied him covertly and set her moods to match his--not a difficult task, since he was merely a normal, healthy young man. always faultless in her attire, she took even more than ordinary pains with her appearance, and it was not long before kirk was naively surprised to find that she no longer seemed older than he--that she was, in fact, an exceedingly handsome woman. this gradual metamorphosis depended more than anything else, perhaps, upon the girlish humor that now possessed her. she was no longer brilliant and chilly, but gay, smiling, and unaffected. daytimes, they rambled about the crooked streets, bargain-hunting in the chinese shops, or drove beneath the stately royal palms of ancon; evenings, they loitered about the cool verandas of the tivoli or strolled down into the town to watch the crowds in the plazas. once in a while cortlandt went with them, but he was usually uncommunicative, and they scarcely felt his presence. on the few occasions when he gave himself rein, kirk was compelled to feel for him a surprised and half-grudging respect. unlike most silent men, when he did talk he talked easily and well. several days passed thus, during which anthony fully recovered from his experience at colon. then a ship arrived from new york, but before he had summoned courage to ask his friends for a loan he received, a letter forwarded from colon by the american consul, a perusal of which not only dumfounded him, but entirely altered his plans. it was typewritten, on plain stationery; there was neither heading nor signature, yet he knew quite well from whom it came. it read as follows: don't cable again, or the stupidity of the police may fail to protect you. the others got away safely and you would be mad to return alone. i can't and won't help you now. this time you went too far. you have made your bed, now lie in it. i don't believe in miracles, but if you can straighten up and make a man of yourself, i'll help you face this trouble; otherwise don't call on me for anything. i'm through. kirk reread this amazing epistle several times before its full significance struck him; then, when he realized what it meant, he felt himself break into a sweat of apprehension. that plain-clothes man had died! the police were looking for him. there could be no other explanation, else why had higgins and the rest fled the country? why had his father been so cautious in communicating with him? if it came to a trial, undoubtedly a jury would find him equally guilty with higgins, for he had held the poor fellow's hands; it was he who had engineered the whole episode. perhaps he was already indicted. kirk saw himself accused of manslaughter, arrested, and tried. what could he do if his father refused to help? with money, almost anything could be achieved; without it, and particularly without his father's influence, what would happen? evidently the governor believed him guilty. in that case the young man knew that explanations would be futile. even the letter he had sent would do no good. when darwin k. anthony said he was through, he was through. finding a secluded corner of the veranda, he sat down to think this matter out; but the more he reflected on it the more serious it appeared. of one thing he became quickly convinced: new york at present was no place for him. a moment ago it seemed far away and extremely desirable, now it was altogether too close at hand and most undesirable. his father's reference to the stupidity of the police persuaded him finally that his whereabouts were unknown, but how long they would remain so was of course a question. it was useless to attempt further concealment. in the first place, he lacked means of moving, nor could he conceal his identity under an assumed name while he remained in panama, for he had already advertised himself too well for that. besides, the idea of hiding did not appeal to him. he decided to face it out, therefore, hoping sometime to get to the bottom of the affair. if he were arrested meanwhile, he would have to locate ringold or higgins, or some of the others, and prove that he had not run away from punishment. it would be difficult to verify the extravagant story of his kidnapping, of course, but--there was nothing else to do. he rose quickly and entered the hotel, where he bought all the latest new york papers. it was not long before he found the thing he was seeking. there it was, a story headed: saloon-keeper to lose license owner of notorious austrian village in trouble there followed an account of mr. padden's efforts to disprove his connection with an assault upon the person of a detective named williams, who had come from st. louis; but nowhere was there a word about the present condition of the plain-clothes man, nor the slightest hint toward explaining the conduct of the mysterious jefferson locke for whom he had been searching. who the devil was locke, anyhow? the article did not even state the charge upon which he was to be arrested. in another paper kirk found something that relieved his mind a bit: evidently williams had not died prior to the time of going to press, although he was reported in a critical condition. kirk was interested to read that the police had a clew to the identity of the criminals and were confident of soon rounding them up. what mystified him most was the lack of detail. evidently much had been printed previously, but he had no means of ascertaining what it was. he spent an hour in serious thought, perhaps the first full hour he had ever passed so profitably. at the end of that time he had arrived at little save a vague feeling of offence toward the father who had been so ready to condemn him. in one way he did not blame the old gentleman for refusing aid. this episode was the culmination of a long series of reckless exploits. mr. anthony had argued, threatened, even implored with tears in his eyes, all to no purpose. just the same, it hurt to have one's father so willing to believe the worst. the two had never understood each other; they did not understand each other now. and they might have been such good pals! darwin k. did not believe in miracles--well, perhaps kirk was hopelessly bad. the young man did not care much, one way or the other; but he shut his teeth grimly and wagered he could make good if he really chose to try. he half decided to make the experiment just to show what he could do, but he was at a loss where to begin. anybody could be successful who really wanted to--every book said that; the hard part was to get started. one thing was clear, at least: he could stay here no longer as the cortlandts' guest--he had already incurred an obligation which he would have difficulty in discharging. yet how could he explain his change of front? mrs. cortlandt, he felt sure, would understand and come to his assistance with good advice, but he shrank instinctively from laying the facts before her husband. it was a deuced unpleasant necessity, and he detested unpleasant necessities--necessities of any sort, in fact. still, there was nothing else for it, so, conquering his sense of humiliation as best he could, he called up the cortlandts' suite. edith answered, saying that her husband was out; then, in response to his request, she came down herself. "what has gone wrong? why this face of tragedy?" she inquired, as she seated herself beside him. "i've received my declaration of independence. i've heard from my dad." a look of quick understanding drove away the smile she had brought him, and her manner was one of grave sympathy as she took the letter he handed her. she was clad in a crisp morning gown he had never seen, and he thought it became her extremely well. she looked very cool, very fresh, very much the fine lady. all in all, she seemed a person whose friendly interest might compensate for many woes. "well!" she remarked. "you do seem to be in trouble. what does it mean?" kirk told her everything without reserve, then showed her the newspapers in his hand. she scrutinized them with a quiet seriousness that seemed to make his trouble her own. "after all," she said at last, "if worse comes to worst, you can prove your innocence." "i'm not so sure." "nonsense! those boys can be found. what puzzles me is that locke person. who is he? why was he followed? what has become of him?" "i wish i knew." "i can have inquiries made, but it will take time. meanwhile, it seems you are safe, so the one important fact for the moment is that you are cast off." turning her bright eyes upon him, she inquired, "how does it feel to be disinherited?" "blamed uncomfortable! i must tell mr. cortlandt at once." "let me," she offered, quickly. "i would not show any one that letter, if i were you, nor advertise the fact that you are in danger of arrest. it will be quite enough if i tell him that you have quarrelled with your father--he is a peculiar man." kirk signified his agreement. "now what do you intend doing?" she asked him. "i'm going to work." "good! good!" she clapped her hands gleefully. "oh, i don't want to," he protested, "but the old gentleman thinks i'm no good, and i'd like to show him he's wrong. after i've done that, i intend to loaf again--yes, and i'll know how to loaf by that time. of course, i'll have to pay my debts, too." "poor mr. weeks!" "why poor?" "he is terribly agitated to learn that we came to your rescue. he knows now that he really entertained an angel unaware, and his grief of soul is comical." "weeks isn't such a bad sort." but her eyes showed a sudden flash of anger as she returned: "he deserves to be forced out of the service." "that wouldn't do any good. his successor might be worse." "haven't you any resentment? i dislike placid people!" "plenty! if i get a crack at alfarez---" "now don't allow your mind to dwell on that," she cautioned. "i think he is riding to a fall, as it is. what do you want to do?" "anything. i'm going to hunt a job this afternoon." "what sort?" "something with big pay and no responsibility." "those positions are taken--by the army," she laughed. "what can you do?" "i can take an automobile apart." "and put it together again?" "oh no! i can sail a boat; i shoot pretty well; i waltz nicely; i row, swim, and box indifferently; and i play an atrocious hand at poker." mrs. cortlandt nodded gravely. "you are also good company, you dress well, and you are an ornament to any hotel porch." "naturally, i refrained from mentioning those things, but, in addition, i smoke, drink, and swear. i am unsteady in my habits, and require a great deal of sleep. i think that completes the inventory." "of course, you will live beyond your salary?" "undoubtedly." "seriously, now, don't you really---?" "go ahead. say it! don't i know anything? no. i am too highly educated. you see, i took the full college course." she drew her sharply pencilled brows together and pursed her lips in meditation, regarding him meanwhile with a look that was not all disapproval. "am i hopeless?" he inquired at length. "dear, no! experience is a good thing, of course, and ability is even better, but neither is absolutely necessary in government work." "oh!" "provided---" "what?" "--you have influence. i was merely trying to think of the niche into which you would best fit." "when a fellow hasn't any of those qualifications, then what? take me, for instance." "you have at least one." "which one?" "influence." he shook his head. "my father wouldn't help." "we'll have no difficulty in finding you a position." "jove! that's good news." he beamed at her with gratified surprise. "i had an idea i'd be going from door to door." "how ridiculous! this is a government job; therefore it is saturated with politics. there are a great many good men on it, but there are also a large number of 'somebody's relatives.' do you understand? anything is possible here for a man with influence. if he has ability with it, he can go to the top. if he lacks ability--well, even then he can go to the top--it depends entirely upon the influence." "but i haven't any--" kirk began. then, catching her look, he exclaimed: "oh, say! will you help me? really? that's too good to be true." he shook her hand warmly, that being the natural outlet for his gratitude, and she smiled at him. "i wonder where i'd better start in," he said. "there's not the slightest choice. all paths lead up the mountain, and if you go far enough you will reach the top. it would be quite easy if you knew something about the railroad business, for instance." "oh, i do. i've had that drilled into me ever since i was a child. i grew up with it--was soaked in it. my father made me learn telegraphy before he gave me a motor-boat." "why in the world didn't you say so?" "well, i have forgotten most of it," he confessed. "i had a railroad of my own, too, when i was twelve years old. i was president." "indeed!" "i suppose it was in my blood. we kids stole the lumber for a track, and i got a hand-car from dad. we formed a close corporation, and, when another boy wanted to join, we made him go forth and steal enough boards to extend the line. we finally had nearly two miles, altogether, with switches, sidings, yards, and everything; then the fences in that neighborhood gave out. it was a gravity road--yes, there was extreme gravity in every department--we'd push the car up and ride down. we had a telephone system and semaphores, and ran on orders just like a real train. grown people heard about it, and paid us five cents a ride, so we began to declare dividends every saturday. oh, it was a great success. we had a complete organization, too; president, directors, conductors, section-hands--the section-hands did all the work and rode between times." "what happened to it?" "one day we ran into a cow and broke the vice-president's leg. the board of directors also had his ear cut, and the indignant neighbors began to reclaim their fences. we lost a mile of track in one afternoon, and father decided it would be better for me to go to boarding-school. it was safer." "i'll warrant you learned the rudiments of railroading, just the same." "i learned everything," kirk announced, decisively. "unfortunately, the p.r.r. has a president, so we can't start you in where you left off." "he might need an assistant." mrs. cortlandt laughed lightly. "while we are finding that out," she said, "i think you had better go over the line in daylight and really see what this work is like. that glimpse you had at gatun is only a small part. now, will you trust me to manage this for you, mr. anthony?" "i should say i would, and i can't begin to tell you--" "oh, it's nothing." she rose to put her plans promptly into operation, this time extending her hands with the words: "let me congratulate you. i really believe you are waking up, and without the woman's aid." "but the woman is aiding me," he replied, warmly. "she's doing it all. you have started me moving, and i'll never be able to thank you." then, as her eyes flashed to his with a look he had never seen before, he added: "understand, though, i am going to work only because i must. i detest it." xi the truth about mrs. cortlandt edith cortlandt was not the sort to permit delay. at lunch she introduced kirk to the master of transportation of the panama railroad, saying: "mr. runnels has offered to take you out through the cut this afternoon, and explain the work to you." runnels, a straight, well-set-up, serious young man, bent a searching look upon kirk, as he said, "mrs. cortlandt tells me you're going to be one of us." "yes." the master of transportation took in the applicant fully, then nodded his head as if pleased with his inspection. "that's good." anthony was drawn to the speaker instantly, for there was no affectation about him. he was straightforward and open, little given to the kind of small talk that serves in so many cases to conceal character. he produced the effect of a busy and forceful man; one could feel energy radiating from him, and his voice had a ring of authority. like every one down here who was doing something, he talked of little besides the big job, even when mr. cortlandt joined the trio. as the two younger men rose to leave, edith playfully admonished him to teach his protege the entire detail of the railroad business and have him back in time for dinner, to which he agreed. "she's wonderful," he remarked a moment later, as he and kirk descended the hotel steps together. "she told colonel jolson he'd just have to find you a position, and i have been delegated to show you about." "you don't say. i supposed there were plenty of openings." "not good ones. however, she usually gets what she wants. if i'm not a good guide, you must put it down to inexperience." "the cortlandts seem to have considerable influence for outsiders. i thought i'd have to begin at the bottom." runnels glanced at his companion quickly. "outsiders! you don't call them outsiders?" "i never quite figured out who they are. funny, by-the-way, how everybody says 'they' in referring to them." "oh, she's the whole team. cortlandt's a nice fellow--but--did you really think that she'd let you start at the bottom?" "why, yes." "i guess you don't know her." "you're right; i do not." "well, she knows everybody and everything in this country. she's the whole diplomatic service. take the colombian trouble, for instance--" "what trouble?" "when panama seceded. she manipulated that, or at least steve cortlandt did under her direction. she was the brains of the whole affair, however, and those new york lawyers merely did what she told them. it was one of the cleverest exploits on record. colombia wouldn't let us build the canal, so panama seceded. war was declared, but the united states interfered in time to prevent bloodshed. one chinaman was killed, i believe, by dropping a flat-iron on his toe, or something, and by the time the excitement had died out we had begun digging. she knows central america like the palm of her hand. when she says kirk anthony wants a position, we hirelings jump about and see that he gets it. oh, you'll have any job you want." "well!" the recipient of this good news congratulated himself silently. "i wish you'd tell me something more about her." "there isn't time just now; our motor is waiting. but we have the whole afternoon ahead of us." the two passed through the railroad gates and took their places in the little car. when they were under way, runnels went on: "i'm supposed to show you this end of the work and tell you what it all means." "then please start at the beginning. you see, i probably know less about it than anybody living." "of course you know the general lay-out?" "i tell you i don't know a thing. there's no use four-flushing." runnels smiled at this candor. "well, the ditch will be about fifty miles long, and, roughly speaking, the work is in three parts--the dredging and harbor-building at sea-level on each end of the canal, the lock-work, and the excavations on the upper levels. that dam you saw building at gatun will form a lake about thirty miles long--quite a fish-pond, eh? when a west-bound ship arrives, for instance, it will be raised through the gatun locks, three of them, and then sail along eighty-five feet above the ocean, across the lake and into a channel dug right through the hills, until it reaches the locks at pedro miguel. then it will be lowered to a smaller lake five miles long, then down again to the level of the pacific. an east-bound ship will reverse the process. get the idea?" "sure. it sounds easy." "oh, it's simple enough. that's what makes it so big. we've been working at it five years, and it will take five years more to complete it. before we began, the french had spent about twenty years on the job. now a word, so you will have the general scheme of operation in your head. the whole thing is run by the isthmian canal commission--six men, most of whom are at war with one another. there are really two railroad systems--the i. c. c., built to haul dirt and rock and to handle materials in and out of the workings, and the panama railroad, which was built years ago during the california gold rush and bought by our government at the time of that terrible revolution i told you about. the latter is a regular system, hauls passengers and freight, but the two work together. you will start in with the p. r. r., mr. anthony, under my despotic sway." "i know a little about railroading." "so much the better. there's a big railroad man by your name in the states. are you related?" "i believe so," kirk answered, quietly. "go ahead with the lesson." "the canal zone is a strip of land ten miles wide running across the isthmus--really an american colony, you know, for we govern it, police it, and all that. as for the work itself, well, the fellows at the two ends of the canal are dredging night and day to complete their part, the lock-builders are laying concrete like mad to get their share done first, the chaps in the big cut are boring through the hills like moles and breaking steam-shovel records every week, while we railroad men take care of the whole shooting-match. of course, there are other departments--sanitary, engineering, commissary, and so forth--all doing their share; but that is the general scheme. everybody is trying to break records. we don't think of anything except our own business. each fellow believes the fate of the canal depends upon him. we've lost interest in everything except this ditch, and while we realize that there is such a place as home, it has become merely a spot where we spend our vacations. they have wars and politics and theatres and divorces out there somewhere, but we don't care. we've lost step with the world, we've dropped out. when the newspapers come, the first thing we look for is the panama news. we're obsessed by this job. even the women and the children feel it--you'll feel it as soon as you become a cog in the machine. polite conversation at dinner is limited to tons of rock and yards of concrete. oh, but i'm tired of this concrete talk." "try the abstract for a change." "it's interesting at first, then it gets tiresome. lord! it's fierce." "the work, too?" "everything! every day you do the same thing; every day you see the same faces, hear the same talk; even the breeze blows from the same direction all the time, and the temperature stays at the same mark winter and summer. every time you go out you see the same coach-drivers, the same spiggoty policemen leaning against the same things; every time you come in you eat the same food, drink the same liquor, sit in the same chair, and talk about the same topics. everything runs too smoothly. the weather is too damned nice. the thermometer lacks originality. we're too comfortable. climate like that gets on a white man's nerves; he needs physical discomfort to make him contented. i'd give a forty-dollar dog to be good and cold and freeze my nose. why, doctor gorgas has made us so sanitary that we can't even get sick. i'd hail an epidemic as a friend. "it's even harder on the women folks, for they can't find anything to kick about, so they fuss with one another and with us. they have clubs, you know, to improve things, but there's nothing to improve. we had a social war recently over a button. one clique wanted a club emblem that would cost a dollar and a half, while the other faction were in favor of a dollar button. i tell you, it was serious. then, too, we're all tagged and labelled like cans of salmon with the price-mark on--we can't four-flush. you can tell a man's salary by the number of rocking-chairs in his house, and the wife of a fellow who draws eighteen hundred a year can't associate with a woman whose husband makes twenty-five hundred. they are very careful about such things. we go to the same dances on the same dates, we dance with the same people to the same tunes by the same band, and when we get off in some corner of the same veranda in search of the same old breeze, which we know is blowing at precisely the same velocity from the usual quarter, our partners tell us that colonel so-and-so laid four hundred twenty-seven more cubic yards of concrete this week than last, or that steam shovel number twenty-three broke the record again by eighty yards. it's hell!" he stopped, breathless. "why don't you quit?" suggested anthony. "quit! what for? good lord! we like it. here we are at pedro miguel, by-the-way. we'll be into the cut shortly." to his left anthony beheld another scene somewhat similar to the one at gatun. other movable steel cranes, with huge wide-flung arms, rose out of another chasm in which were extensive concrete workings. from a distance the towers resembled parts of a half-constructed cantilever bridge of tremendous height. another army was toiling at the bottom of the pit, more cars shunted back and forth, more rock-crushers rumbled; but, before kirk's eye had photographed more than a small part, the motor-car had sped past and was rolling out upon a bridge spanning the canal itself. to the northward appeared an opening cut through the hills, and runnels said, simply: "culebra!" a moment later he announced: "we leave the p. r. r tracks here and switch in on the i. c. c. now you'll begin to see something." down into the cut the little car went, and at last anthony saw the active pulsating heart of this stupendous undertaking. the low range was severed by a gorge blasted out by human hands. it was a mountain valley in the making. high up on its sides were dirt and rock trains, dozens of compressed-air drills, their spars resembling the masts of a fleet of catboats at anchor--behind these, grimy, powerful steam shovels which rooted and grunted quite like iron hogs. along the tracks at various levels flowed a constant current of traffic; long lines of empty cars crept past the shovels, then, filled to overflowing, sped away northward up the valley, to return again and again. nowhere was there any idleness, nowhere a cold machine or a man at rest. on every hand was smoke and steam and sweat. the drills chugged steadily, the hungry iron hogs gouged out the trails the drills had loosened, the trains rolled past at intervals of a moment or so. lines of electric wire, carried upon low wooden "shears," paralleled the tracks, bearing the white-hot sparks that rent the mountain. at every switch a negro flagman crouched beneath a slanting sheet of corrugated iron, seeking shelter alike from flying fragments and the blazing sun. from beneath the drills came occasional subterranean explosions; then geysers of muddy water rose in the air. under the snouts of the steam shovels "dobe" shots went off as bowlders were riven into smaller fragments. now and then an excited tooting of whistles gave warning of a bigger blast as the flagmen checked the flow of traffic, indicating with arms upraised that the ground was "coming up." thereupon a brief lull occurred; men hid themselves, the work held its breath, as it were. but while the detonations still echoed, and before the flying missiles had ceased to shower, the human ants were moiling at their hills once more, the wheels were turning again, the jaws of the iron hogs were clanking. through this upheaval the motor-car penetrated, dodging trains of "flats," which moved sluggishly to afford them passage up and down over the volcanic furrows at the bottom of the gorge or along some shelf beneath which the foundations were being dug. at times a shovel reached out its five-yard steel jaw and gently cleared the rails of debris, or boosted some bowlder from the path with all the skill of a giant hand and fingers. up and down the canon rolled spasmodic rumblings, like broadsides from a fleet of battle-ships. "somebody with a head for figures has estimated what it costs the government to send a motor-car like this through the cut in working hours," runnels said. "i don't remember the exact amount, but it was some thousands of dollars." "delays to trains, i suppose?" "yes. a minute here, thirty seconds there. every second means a certain number of cubic yards unremoved, and holds back the opening of the canal just so much. you have postponed a great event several minutes, mr. anthony." "it's the first important thing i ever did." "our little nine-mile trip will cost uncle sam more than a brace of tickets from new york to 'frisco and back again, including pullmans and travelling expenses." mile after mile the sight-seers rolled on, past scenes of never-varying activity--past more shovels, more groups of drills, more dirt trains, more regiments of men--runnels explaining. kirk marvelling until he was forced to exclaim: "i had no idea it was so big. it doesn't seem as if they'd ever finish it." "oh, we'll finish it if we're let alone. every year, you know, we receive a batch of senators and congressmen who come down to 'inspect' and 'report.' sometimes they spend as much as a week on the job, and frequently learn to distinguish which is the gatun dam and which the culebra cut, but not always. some of them don't know yet. nevertheless, they return to washington and tell us how to proceed. having discovered that the panama climate is good and the wages high, they send down all their relatives. it's too bad colonel gorgas did away with the yellow fever. "you see there is too much politics in it; we never know how long our jobs will last. if some senator whose vote is needed on an administration matter wanted my position for his wife's brother, he could get it. suppose the president of the clock-winders' union wanted to place his half-sister's husband with the p. r. r. he'd call at the white house and make his request. if he were refused, he'd threaten to call a strike of his union and stop every clock on the isthmus. he'd get the job all right." "of course, that is an exaggeration." "not at all. it has been done--is being done right along. the half-sister's husband comes down here and takes a job away from some fellow who may be entitled to promotion." "i suppose i'm an example." runnels looked at him squarely before answering, "you are," said he, "although i wasn't thinking of you when i spoke. it's something we all feel, however." anthony flushed as he answered: "i don't remember ever taking anything i wasn't entitled to, and i didn't think when i was shoved in here that i'd shove some other fellow out." "that's about what will happen. the good positions are filled by good men, for the most part, but mrs. cortlandt has asked it, and you're elected. you don't mind my frankness, i hope?" "certainly not. i just didn't happen to look at it in this light." kirk felt a vivid sense of discomfort as the keen eyes of his companion dwelt upon him. "as a matter of fact, i dare say i don't need a good job half as badly as some of these married fellows. i suppose there is room at the bottom, and a fellow can work up?" "if he has it in him." "i think i'll start there." "oh, come, now," laughed the master of transportation, "that sort of thing isn't done. you have the chance, and you'd be foolish to let it slip. i don't blame you; i'd do the same under the circumstances. it's merely a condition we've all got to face." "just the same, i don't like the idea. i'd feel uncomfortable if i met some capable fellow whom i'd robbed of his chance. it's hard work to be uncomfortable, and i don't like hard work, you know." runnels shook his head doubtfully as if questioning the genuineness of this attitude. "i'm afraid you're a poor business man," he said. "rotten!" kirk admitted. "but i've an idea i can make good if i try." "if you feel that way, i certainly will help you," said the other, warmly. "of course, i'll try to help you anyhow, but--i like your spirit. with mrs. cortlandt to back me up, i'll see you go forward as fast as you deserve." by now they were out of the cut and once more upon the main line at bas obispo, heading back toward the pacific. "you asked me to tell you something about her," runnels continued. "yes." "i'm not sure my information is entirely correct, but, knowing who she is, i think i understand why she is in panama. it is politics--big politics. the spiggoties have an election next year, and it is necessary to get our wires well laid before it comes off. general alfarez will probably be the next president." "alfarez! not ramon?" "his father. you know we americans occupy a peculiar position here, set down as we are in the midst of an alien people who hate us. oh, they hate us, all right--all except a few of the better class." "why?" "there are a good many reasons. for one thing, there's a sort of racial antipathy. you don't like them, do you? well, they don't like you, either, and the same feeling exists from mexico to patagonia, although it is strongest in these regions. it is partly the resentment of an inferior race, i suppose. then, too, when we stole panama we made the colombians sore, and all central america besides, for they realized that once we yankees got a foothold here we'd hang on and not only dominate this country but all the neighboring republics as well. that's just what we're beginning to do; that's why the cortlandts are here. the stage is clearing for a big political drama, mr. anthony, which may mean the end of latin central america." "i had gathered something of the sort--but i had no idea there was so much in it." "the united states must protect its canal, and to that end it is building 'stone quarries' on ancon hill which are really fortifications. american capital is coming in here, too, and in order to protect the whole thing we must dominate panama itself. once that is done, all the countries between here and the texas border will begin to feel our influence. why, costa rica is already nothing but a fruit farm owned by a boston corporation. of course, nobody can forecast the final result, but the mexicans, the hondurans, the guatemalans, and the others have begun to feel it, and that's why the anti-american sentiment is constantly growing. you don't read much about it in the papers, but just live here for a while and you'll find out." "oh, i have," kirk acknowledged, dryly. "but we don't want these jungle countries." "that's where you're wrong. by-and-by we'll need room to expand, and when that time comes we'll move south, not north or west. tropical america is richer than all our great northwest, and we'll grab it sooner or later. meanwhile our far-sighted government is smoothing the way, and there's nobody better fitted for the preliminary work than mr. stephen cortlandt, of washington, d. c., husband and clerk of the smartest woman in the business of chaperoning administrations." "oh, see here, now, cortlandt is more than a clerk." "he's an errand-boy. he knows it, she knows it, and a few other people know it. he's the figurehead behind which she works. she's a rich woman, she loves the game--her father was the greatest diplomat of his time, you know--and she married cortlandt so she could play it. any other man would have served as well, though i've heard that he showed promise before she blotted him out and absorbed him. but now he's merely her power of attorney." anthony pursed his lips into a whistle of astonishment. as usual, he reflected, his judgment had been strictly college-made. "it's been a good thing for him," runnels ran on, evidently warmed to his subject. "she's made his reputation; he has money and position. for my part, i'd rather remain insignificant and have a real wife, even if she does have hysterics over a club button." "don't they love each other?" "nobody knows. she's carved out of ice, and, as for him, well, gratitude is a good deal like rust--in time it destroys the thing it clings to. i suppose i'm talking too much, but others would tell you the same things. i consider her the smartest woman i ever met, and i admire her immensely. you are mighty fortunate to be her friend. she'll force you to the top in spite of yourself." "i'm not sure i like that. it doesn't sound good." "oh, don't misconstrue what i've said," runnels hastened to add. "she isn't that sort." "i didn't mean that," said kirk, briefly, and lapsed into a silence from which he roused only to discuss the details of his coming work. it was with quite a different eye that he looked upon his host and hostess that evening. to his genuine liking for the latter was now added a worshipful admiration and a boyish gratification at her regard, which rather put her at a distance. when she questioned him on their way to the plaza for the band concert later in the evening, he told her of his trip and of runnels' kindness. "it's all settled," said he. "i'm going to work in a few days as train collector." "what?" mrs. cortlandt turned upon him sharply. "runnels didn't offer you that sort of position?" her eyes were dark with indignation. kirk promptly came to the defence of his new friend. "no, i asked for it." "oh, i see. well, he will do much better by you than that." "i don't want anything better to start with." "but, my dear boy, a collector is merely a conductor. he takes tickets." "sure! i can do that. i might fail at something hard." "no, no, no! i'll see that you don't fail. don't you understand?" "i understand a lot more than i did, mrs. cortlandt. that's why i don't want to rob some chap of a job he's entitled to, and i sha'n't. there's a collector quitting shortly." she stared at him curiously for a moment before inquiring: "is that really the reason, or do you think the work will be easier?" kirk stirred uncomfortably. "oh, i'm not trying to dodge anything," he maintained. "on the contrary, the most amazing thing has happened--something i can't quite understand. i--i really want to work. funny, isn't it? i didn't know people ever got that way, but--i'd like to help build this canal." "but a conductor! why, you're a gentleman." "my dad was a brakeman." "don't be foolish. runnels talks too much. he'll offer you something better than that." "the high-salaried positions are well filled now, and most of the fellows are married." "a new position will be created." but kirk was obdurate. "i'd prefer to start in as confidential adviser to the canal commission, of course, but i'd be a 'frost,' and my father would say 'i told you so.' i must make good for his sake, even if it's only counting cars or licking postage-stamps. besides, it isn't exactly the square thing to take money for work that somebody else does for you. when a man tried for the yale team he had to play football, no matter who his people were. if some capable chap were displaced to put in an incapable fellow like me, he'd be sore, and so would his friends; then i'd have to lick them. we'd have a fine scrap, because i couldn't stand being pointed out as a dub. no, i'll go in through the gate and pay my admission." "do you realize that you can't live at the tivoli?" "i hadn't thought about that, but i'll live where the other fellows do." "no more good dinners, no drives and little parties like this." "oh, now, you won't cut me out just because i pull bell-cords and you pull diplomatic wires? remember one of our champion pugilists was once a sailor." mrs. cortlandt laughed with a touch of annoyance. "it is utterly ridiculous, and i can't believe you are in earnest." "i am, though. if i learn to be a good conductor, i'd like to step up. i'm young. i can't go back to new york; there's plenty of time for promotion." "oh, you'll have every chance," she declared. "but i think a few weeks in cap and buttons will cure you of this quixotic sentiment. meanwhile i must admit it is refreshing." she stared unseeingly at the street lights for a moment, then broke out as a new thought occurred to her: "but see here, kirk, don't the collectors live in colon?" "i don't know," he replied, startled and flattered by her first use of his given name. "i'll look it up to-morrow. you know i--mr. cortlandt and i will be in panama, and i prefer to have you here. you see, we can do more for you." a little later she broke into a low laugh. "it seems strange to go driving with a conductor." as they reclined against the padded seat of their coach, lulled by the strains of music that came to them across the crowded plaza and argued their first difference, it struck the young man that edith cortlandt was surprisingly warm and human for a woman of ice. he fully felt her superiority, yet he almost forgot it in the sense of cordial companionship she gave him. xii a night at taboga despite his great contentment in mrs. cortlandt's society, kirk found himself waiting with growing impatience for his active duties to begin. there was a restlessness in his mood, moreover, which his desire to escape from a situation of rather humiliating dependence could not wholly explain. curiously enough, this feeling was somehow connected with the thought of edith herself. why this should be so, he did not trouble to inquire. they had become the best of good friends, he told himself--a consummation for which he had devoutly wished--yet, for some indefinable reason, he was dissatisfied. he did not know that their moment of perfect, unspoiled companionship had come and gone that evening in the plaza. every relation into which sentiment enters at all has its crisis or turning-point, though it may pass unobserved. perhaps they are happiest who heed it least. certainly, morbid self-analysis was the last fault of which kirk could be accused. if he had a rule of action, it was simply to behave naturally, and, so far, experience had justified him in the belief that behaving naturally always brought him out right in the end. he decided that he needed exercise, and determined to take a tramp through the country; but on the evening before the day he had set for his excursion his plans were upset by a note from mrs. cortlandt, which the clerk handed him. it ran: dear kirk,--stephen has arranged an outing for all three of us, and we are counting on you for to-morrow. it will be a really, truly picnic, with all the delightful discomforts of such affairs. you are not to know where we are going until we call for you at eight. faithfully and mysteriously yours, edith cortlandt. the recipient of this kind invitation tossed it aside with a gesture of impatience. for the moment he experienced a kind of boyish resentment at having his intentions thwarted that seemed out of proportion to the cause. whether he would have felt the same if edith's husband were not to be one of the party was a question that did not occur to him. at all events, the emotion soon passed, and he rose the next morning feeling that an outing with the cortlandts would be as pleasant a diversion for the day as any other. promptly at eight edith appeared upon the hotel porch. she was alone. "where's mr. cortlandt?" he inquired. "oh, some men arrived last night from bocas del toro and telephoned that they must see him to-day on a matter of importance." "then he's coming later?" "i hardly think so. i was terribly disappointed, so he told me to go without him. now, i shall have to make up to you for his absence, if i am able." "that's the sort of speech," kirk laughed, "that doesn't leave a fellow any nice answer. i'm sorry he couldn't come, of course, and awfully glad you did. now, where is to be the scene of our revel?" "taboga," she said, with eyes sparkling. "you've never been there, but it's perfectly gorgeous. please call a coach, our boat is waiting--and don't sit on the lunch." kirk obeyed, and they went clattering down the deserted brick street. edith leaned back with a sigh. "i'm so glad to get away from that hotel for a day. you've no idea how hard it is to be forever entertaining a lot of people you care nothing about, or being entertained by people you detest. i've smiled and smirked and cooed until i'm sick; i want to scowl and grind my teeth and roar." "still politics, i suppose?" "yes, indeed; we don't dare talk about it. if you only knew it, kirk, you've capsized the political calculations of the panama conservative party." "i didn't know i had ever even rocked the boat." "it runs back to your affair with ramen." she glanced toward the coach driver, suggesting the need of reticence. "really, did that effect it?" "rather. at any rate, it gave an excuse for setting things in motion. there had been some doubt about the matter for a long time, and i was only too glad to exert my influence in the right direction, but--this is a picnic to an enchanted island, and here we are talking politics! we mustn't be so serious. school is out, and it's vacation. i want to romp and play and get my face dirty." kirk readily fell in with her mood, and by the time they reached the water-front they were laughing like two children. down through a stone arch they went, and out upon a landing beneath the sea wall. in front of them the placid waters of the bay were shimmering, a myriad of small boats thronged the harbor. there were coasting steamers, launches, sail-boats, skiffs, and canoes. along the shore above the tide-line were rows of schooners fashioned from gigantic tree-trunks and capable of carrying many tons, all squatting upon the mud, their white sails raised to dry like the outstretched wings of resting sea-gulls. the landing was thronged, and, at sight of the newcomers, loiterers gathered from all sides--a pirate throng, shouting a dozen dialects and forcing kirk to battle lustily for his luggage. stepping into a skiff, they were rowed to a launch, and a few moments later were gliding swiftly around the long rock-rib that guards the harbor, a copper-hued bandit at the wheel, a nubian giant at the engine, and an evil, yellow-faced desperado sprawling upon the forward deck. looking back, they saw the city spread out in brilliant panorama, clear and beautiful in the morning radiance. packed and dense it lay, buttressed by the weather-stained ramparts which legend says were built by the women while their husbands were at war, and backed by the green heights of ancon, against which the foreign houses nestled. set in the foreground, like an ivory carving, was the government theatre, while away beyond it loomed the tivoli. noting armed sentinels pacing the sea wall at a certain spot, kirk called his companion's attention to them. "that's chiriqui prison, isn't it?" he asked. "yes. they say some of the dungeons are almost under the sea. it must be a terrible place." "i've developed a morbid interest in jails," he remarked. "i'm quite an authority on them. i think, however, i won't experiment with this one--i don't like the view." "yes, it's an unhealthy spot, according to all accounts. i'm sure you'd get rheumatism, at least. by-the-way, do you notice the thickness of those walls? they say that a king of spain was seen standing at his palace window one day staring anxiously toward the west. when a courtier presumed to ask him what he was looking at, he said, 'i am searching for those costly walls of panama. they ought to be visible even from here.' they cost ten million dollars, you know, when dollars were worth a good deal more than they are now. look! there's taboga." following her gaze, kirk beheld a mountain of amethyst rising out of the bay. behind them the shores stretched away into misty distances, while low mountains, softened by a delicate purple, rolled up from the jungle plain. ahead of them the turquoise waters were dotted by islets whose heights were densely overgrown, while sands of coral whiteness ringed their shore lines. here and there a fleet of fishing-boats drifted. far out in the roadstead lay two cruisers, slate-gray and grim. the waters over-side purled soothingly, the heavens beamed, the breeze was like a gentle caress. the excursionists lost themselves in silent enjoyment. even before they had come to anchor a dozen boatmen were racing for them and crying for their patronage. at the water's edge they saw a tiny village nestled close against the mountains, its tiled roofs rust-red and grown to moss, its walls faded by wind and weather to delicate mauves and dove colors and greens impossible to describe. up against the slope a squat 'dobe chapel sat, while just beyond reach of the tide was a funny little pocket-size plaza, boasting a decrepit fountain and an iron fence eaten by the salt. backing it all was a marvellous verdure, tipped up on edge, or so it seemed, and cleared in spots for pineapples. the launch, when it came to rest, seemed suspended in air, and beneath it lay an entrancing sea-garden. once the engine had stopped its clatter, a sleepy, peaceful silence settled over the harbor, unbroken by wheel or whistle, for in taboga no one works and there are no vehicles. "what a wonderful place!" exclaimed the young man, fervently. "why, it's like a dream--it can't be real!" then, as the boatmen renewed their begging, "i wonder which barge gentleman i had better hire." "take the little boy, please." edith called to an urchin who was manfully struggling with a pair of oars twice his own length, whereupon the older boatmen began to shove off with many scowls and much grumbling. "our choice has offended these genial bandits," kirk observed as he helped her to a seat. "when shall we tell the lad to bring us off?" "four o'clock," answered mrs. cortlandt. "i arranged with the captain to be ready at that hour, so, you see, we have the whole day ahead of us." across the limpid shallows they glided, bravely propelled by their nine-year-old oarsman, but when the bow of their skiff grated upon the bottom they were still some yards from the shore. "looks as if we'd have to wade," said kirk, then called to one of the near-by boatmen to lend the child a hand. but the fellow replied gruffly in some unintelligible jargon. "he says he carries his passengers ashore in his arms," edith translated. "really? competition is spirited even on this heavenly isle. well, that's easy!" anthony untied his low shoes, kicked them off, and rolled up his trousers. "permit me to help you," he said, "without embarrassing our pilot." "oh! i want to wade, too," the woman exclaimed, enviously, as he stepped out, "but--it's too pebbly." she stood up and allowed him to gather her in his arms. then for the first time she felt his strength as her body leaned to his. slowly he picked his way ashore while she reclined in his embrace, her arms about his neck, her smooth cheek brushing his. a faint, intoxicating perfume she used affected him strangely, increasing the poignant sense of her nearness; a lock of her hair caressed him. when he deposited her gently upon her feet he saw her face had gone white and that she was trembling. "did i hurt you?" he queried, quickly. "oh no!" she answered, but as she turned away he saw her breathe as if for the first time since he had taken her up. his own face was glowing as he waded back to fetch the lunch-basket and his foot-gear. under the circumstances he had done the only natural, the only possible thing, yet it had queerly perturbed them both. there was an artificial note in their voices as they mounted to the village, and unconsciously they avoided each other's glances. a narrow, crooked street, fronted by old stone houses, opened before them, and the many tints they had seen from a distance became more pronounced. even the rough flags and cobbles under foot were of a faint lichen gray, chrome yellow, or pink, as if painted at cost of infinite labor. out of dark, open doorways peered swarthy faces, naked bronze children scampered away on fat legs at their approach, and in one house were a number of cassocked priests droning in spanish. everywhere was the same slumberous content, the same peaceful buzz of bees and birds and soft-toned human voices. the two visitors explored the village, even to the quaint, tawdry chapel, with its impossible blues and rusted gilt, and noon found them eager to investigate the contents of their lunch-basket. taking a random path up the hill, they came at last to a spring of cool water, and here they spread their meal under a mango-tree bent beneath tons of fruit. "oh, it's intoxicating!" cried edith, as she sank to a seat, feasting her eyes upon the scene below. "after lunch, shall we climb the mountain?" "i'm ready for anything," kirk assured her. "maybe we'll go swimming. that seems to be the main occupation of the inhabitants." up the path toward them came two timid children, one bearing a pineapple half as large as himself, the other lugging an armful of strange fruit. kirk bought their entire burden, and they scuttled away in high glee. by now the spirit of the woods was in the picnickers; the gladness of the day possessed them wholly, and the afternoon sped quickly. if at times kirk found his companion regarding him with a strangely timid, half-defiant look, he refused to connect it with the episode of their landing. it was a fleeting look, at most, gone almost before he surprised it, and, for the most part, edith showed a seemingly quite natural gayety that helped him to forget his recent self-consciousness. promptly at four they came down the drunken little main street and out upon the beach. but no launch was in sight. "hello! where's our boat?" exclaimed kirk. "the captain told me he'd be ready at four. perhaps he has run over to taboguilla or--" she hesitated, with a troubled frown. "you told him to wait?" "distinctly." seeing an idler in the square above she questioned him in spanish. "this man says the launch left for panama two hours ago." she turned tragic eyes upon kirk. "do you think they intend to leave us?" "i don't know. these people are liable to do any thing." once more she questioned the loiterer. "it is just as i suspected," she explained; "they went on a sunday spree. he says they came ashore and bought a lot of liquor, and he heard them quarrelling later." "that means we'll have to get another boat." "i don't know where we shall find one." "neither do i, but there must be some sort of craft that plies back and forth regularly." "only once or twice a week, i believe, and it belongs to the sanitarium." she nodded toward some buildings perched upon a point farther around the bay. "mr. cortlandt looked it up before leaving and found the boat doesn't run on sundays, so he hired that launch. perhaps we'd better wait awhile; our men may come back." they found seats in the square and were grateful for the rest; but an hour passed and the sun was getting low, while no sign of their truant craft appeared. "there must be sail-boats to be had," said kirk; but on inquiry they learned that, although a few belonged to the island, they all happened to be away. he suggested that they hire a man to row them across. "it's twelve miles," edith demurred. "do you think it would be safe?" he scanned the twilit sea and gave up the idea; for the afternoon trades, balmy and soothing as they were, had lifted a swell that would prove difficult for a skiff to navigate. uneasily they settled themselves for a further wait. at last, as the sun was dipping into a bed of gold, kirk broke out: "gee whiz! we've got to do something. mr. cortlandt will be getting worried." "in all probability he won't know anything about it until too late to come for us. he is dining with these people from bocas, and may not get back to the tivoli before midnight." "nice fix we're in!" remarked anthony. "i'd like to lay hands on that captain." "we may have to stay here all night!" "well, at least we have a haven of refuge. they'll take us in at the hospital." "i don't care to ask them. there's some one up there i don't wish to see. that's why i didn't go near the place to-day." "you know best, of course. but, see here, don't you think you'd better go up there--" "not for worlds! we must find some other way." she began to pace back and forth in the dusk. "how unfortunate it is!" "is it because--i'm with you?" questioned the young man, with an effort. "is that why you don't want to apply there?" "no, no. stephen's particular enemy is in charge up there. i detest the man, and the feeling is mutual, i believe." she sighed, and her glance fell. "we can't spend the night outdoors." "of course not, but--" "what?" he laughed to hide his embarrassment. "i'm wondering--what people will say." "oh, you mustn't be troubled about that. it isn't your fault, you know, anyhow. besides, people won't say anything because they won't know anything about it--if we stay away from that sanitarium." in the effort to put him at his ease, her own distress seemed to vanish, and kirk immediately felt more cheerful. "it's getting along toward dinner-time," he said, "so let's see what we can find in the way of food. you can be sheltered in one of these houses, i suppose, though from the looks i'd almost prefer the night air." they stumbled out into the unlighted street and began their search; but, seen close at hand, the cooking arrangements of taboga proved most unattractive. outside the sanitarium, it seemed, there was not a stove on the island. charcoal braziers set upon the floors or in the dirt yards served all culinary purposes, and the process of preparing meals was conducted with an indifference that promised no savory results. about the glowing points of light wrinkled hags appeared irregularly, as if brewing some witch's broth, but they could not understand the phenomenon of americans being hungry and signified no readiness to relieve them. in several instances kirk and mrs. cortlandt were treated with open suspicion. but eventually they found a more pretentious-looking place, where they were taken in, and, after an interminable wait, food was set before them--chicken, boiled with rice and cocoanut, black beans and cocoanut, fresh, warm milk, and a wondrous assortment of hothouse fruits. they would have enjoyed the meal had it not been for the curious faces that blocked every aperture in the room and the many bright eyes that peered at them from each shadow. but in spite of their equivocal situation, edith seemed fully to have regained her spirits. even the prospect of spending the night in this place apparently did not dismay her. "we have created quite a sensation," she said, laughingly. "i wonder if it makes the animals in the zoo as nervous to be stared at." kirk was half puzzled, half relieved by the lightness of her mood. "if you have finished this health-food," he remarked, "we'll go back to the plaza and wait for the launch. i'm as full of cocoanut as a shell." they descended to the square again, stared at all the way through open doors and followed by a subdued murmur of comment. then they sat for a long time watching the stars, half minded not to regret the circumstance that had left them stranded together in such pleasant surroundings. as if in despair over their impossible predicament, edith gave way to a spirit of reckless vivacity, and kirk, with a man's somewhat exaggerated sympathy for a woman's sensitive feelings, loyally strove to help her make the best of things in her own way. it was like a woman, he reflected, to follow her mood to the last extreme, and, being a man, he was not displeased. the change in her manner was too elusive for him to analyze. there was no real concession of her reserve--no sacrifice of the feminine privilege of prompt and complete withdrawal. if he had struck a false note, he knew that she would have turned frigid in an instant. but he could not help feeling that some barrier which had existed between them had been magically removed. her apparent obliviousness to all that under the circumstances might have troubled her was a subtle compliment to himself, and soon he, too, forgot that there was anything in the world beyond their present relation to each other. it was on their return to the house that the climax came, leaving him strangely shaken. their course took them past a tiny cantina. it was open in front, and brightly lighted, although at this hour most of the houses were dark and the village lay wrapped in the inky shadow of the mountain behind. within, several men were carousing--dark-haired, swarthy fellows, who seemed to be fishermen. drawn by the sound of argument, the strangers paused a moment to watch them. the quarrel seemed a harmless affair, and they were about to pass on, when suddenly one of the disputants lunged at his antagonist with a knife, conjured from nowhere, and the two came tumbling out into the street, nearly colliding with the onlookers. without a sound, mrs. cortlandt picked up her skirts and fled into the darkness, kirk stumbling along behind her, both guiding themselves by instinct rather than sight. at last she stopped out of breath, and he overtook her. "you mustn't run through these dark alleys," he cried, sharply. "you'll break your neck." half impatient at this hysterical behavior, he seized her by the arm. "oh, i'm so frightened!" she breathed, and he felt her tremble. "a drunken man frightens me--" involuntarily she hid her face against his breast, then laughed nervously. "don't mind me, please. it's the one thing i can't stand. i'll be all right in a moment." she lifted her white face, and her eyes were luminous in the gloom. "i'm very glad you don't drink." her hand crept up to the lapel of his coat. "what will you think of me?" she said, tremulously. before he realized what he was doing his arms had closed around her and his lips had met hers. it may have been the romance of the night, the solitude, the intoxicating warmth of her breath--at any rate, he lost his head and knew nothing save that she was a woman and he a man. as for her, she offered no resistance, made no sign beyond a startled sigh as their lips came together. but, impulsive as his action had been, it was no more sudden than his recoil. he released her and stepped back, crying: "oh, my god! i--i didn't mean that. forgive me. please." she said nothing, and he stammered desperately again: "you'll hate me now, of course, but--i don't know what ails me. i forgot myself--you--everything. it was unpardonable, and i ought to be shot." he started off down the blind street, his whole body cold with apprehension and self-disgust. "where are you going?" she called after him. "i don't know. i can't stay here now. oh, mrs. cortlandt, what can i say?" "do you intend to leave me here in the middle of this--" "no, no! of course not. i'm rattled, that's all. i've just got a cowardly desire to flee and butt my head against the nearest wall. that's what i ought to do. i don't know what possessed me. i don't know what you'll think of me." "we won't speak of it now. try to compose yourself and find our lodging-place." "why, yes, of course. i'll see that you're fixed up comfortably and then i'll get out." "oh, you mustn't leave me!" she cried in a panic. "i couldn't stay in that awful place alone." she drew a little nearer to him as if demanding his protection. a wave of tenderness swept over him. she was just a girl, after all, he reflected, and if it were not for what had happened a moment before the most natural thing in the world would be to take her in his arms and comfort her. "i--i won't leave you--i'll stay near you," he stammered. but as they trudged along together through the dark his chagrin returned in full force. mrs. cortlandt maintained a distressing silence, and he could not see her face. presently he began to plead brokenly for forgiveness, stumbling in the effort not to offend her further and feeling that he was making matters worse with every word he uttered. for a long time she made no reply, but at last she said: "do you think i ought ever to see you again after this?" "i suppose not," said kirk, miserably. "i won't believe," she went on, "that you could have taken me for the kind of woman who--" "no, no!" he cried, in an anguish of self-reproach. "i was a fool--" "no," she said, "i don't--i couldn't bear to think that. perhaps i was partly to blame--but i didn't think--i ought to have known that no man can really be trusted. but i thought our friendship was so beautiful, and now you've spoiled it." "don't say that!" exclaimed kirk. "say you'll forgive me some time." but instead of answering him directly she proceeded in the same strain, probing his wounded self-respect to the quick, making his offence seem blacker every moment. although he assured her over and over that he had simply followed the irresponsible, unaccountable impulse of a moment--that he had regarded her only as the best of friends, and respected her more than he could say, she showed him no mercy. the melancholy, regretful tone she adopted was ten times worse than anger, and by the time they reached the inn where they had dined he was sunk in the depths of self-abasement. if he had been less preoccupied with his own remorse he might have reflected that edith's attitude, especially as she did not expressly withhold the prospect of ultimate pardon, established a closer bond between them than ever before. but there was no room in his mind for such a thought. in reply to his knock an old woman came to the door and sleepily admitted them. edith stood for a moment on the threshold, then, seeing that he made no motion to accompany her, she said good-night, and, quietly entering, closed the door behind her. kirk experienced a sudden desire to escape. to remain where he was simply prolonged his humiliation. instinctively he felt that, if he could only get away where he could view the matter in an every-day light, it would cease to trouble him. but evidently he could not desert edith. he sat down upon the doorstep and gave himself up to bitter thoughts. she was such a wonderful woman, he told himself; she had been such a true friend to him that he had been worse than criminal to lose her respect. and cortlandt had been so decent to him! it was significant that this gave him the most discomfort of all. he had betrayed a man's friendship, and the thought was unbearable. no punishment could be too severe for that! he was still sitting there cramped and stiff when the first faint flush of dawn stole over the hill-crest behind him. then he rose to wander toward the water-front. as the harbor assumed definite form, he beheld a launch stealing in toward the village, and ten minutes later greeted stephen cortlandt as that gentleman stepped out of the tender. "where's edith?" eagerly demanded her husband. "she's asleep. i found a place for her--" "not at the sanitarium?" "no, no. one of these houses. lord, i'm glad to see you! we'd begun to feel like real castaways. i've been up all night." "what happened?" it was plain that mr. cortlandt was deeply agitated. "our boatmen evidently got drunk and pulled out. i tried to get a sail-boat, but there weren't any, and it was too rough to try crossing with a skiff." it took them but a moment to reach the house, and soon the three were back at the water-front. "what a miserable night!" mrs. cortlandt complained, stifling a yawn. "i thought you'd never come, stephen!" "i didn't get back to the tivoli until midnight, and then i had trouble in finding a boat to bring me over." "i suppose they were alarmed at the hotel?" "i said nothing about it," he returned, quietly, at which his wife's face flushed. seizing the first occasion, he exclaimed, in a low voice: "god! how unfortunate--at this time. were you mad?" she looked at him and her eyes burned, but she said nothing. xiii chiquita the next day kirk borrowed a shot-gun and went hunting. the events of the night before seemed like a dream. could it be that he had really blundered irretrievably? was it possible that he had offended his best friend past forgiveness? he wanted to get away somewhere and collect his thoughts. for the present, at least, he wished to avoid an interview with mrs. cortlandt. a mile or two beyond the railroad track, to the north and east, began what appeared to be an unbroken wilderness, and thither he turned his steps. low, rolling hills lay before him, densely over-grown and leading upward to a mountain range which paralleled the coast until the distant haze swallowed it up. these mountains, he reflected with a thrill of interest, led on to south america, the land of the incas, hidden in mystery as the forests close at hand were veiled in faint purple. the very thought was romantic. balboa had strained his eyes along these self-same placid shores; pizarro, the swineherd, had followed them in search of dabaiba, that fabled temple of gold, leaving behind him a trail of blood. it was only yonder, five miles away, that pedrarias, with the murder of a million victims on his soul, had founded the ancient city which later fell to morgan's buccaneers. even now, a league back from the ocean, the land seemed as wild as then. anthony suspected that there were houses--perhaps villages--hidden from his view; but vast stretches of enchanted jungle intervened, which he determined to explore, letting his feet stray whither they would. if game, of which he had heard great stories, fell to his hand, so much the better. heeding a warning not to bear arms through the streets of panama without a permit from the alcalde, he struck off across the fields in a bee-line for the woods. it was a vast relief to be out in the open air with a gun upon his arm once more, and he felt his blood coursing vigorously. the burden upon his spirits insensibly began to lighten. after all, he had done nothing for which he needed to be ashamed the rest of his life. edith, of course, was right in being deeply offended. that was to be expected. yet his conduct, regrettable as it was, had been only natural under the circumstances. now that the first tumult of feeling had subsided, he found that his conscience did not accuse him very severely. and, somehow, he was unable to believe that the breach with edith would prove irreparable. she was a sensible woman of the world--not a mere school-girl. perhaps when the immediate shock of the occurrence had passed she would consent to take a different view of it, and they might return to their old friendly footing. if not--well, he would be his own man soon, anyhow. their lives would part, and the incident would be forgotten. he was sorry that in his momentary madness he had behaved improperly toward a woman to whom he owed so much, yet it was not as if he had shown meanness or ingratitude. across the meadows deep in grass he went, skirting little ponds and marshy spots, growing more cheerful with every step. in one place he had the good-luck to raise a flock of water birds, which he took for purple gallinule and spur-wing plover, although they were unlike any he had ever seen. in some scattered groves beyond he bagged a pigeon and missed a quail which unexpectedly whirred out of a thicket. then he continued past herds of grazing cattle to another patch of woodland, where he came upon something that looked like a path. through rankly growing banana-patches, yam-fields, and groves of mango-trees, he followed it, penetrating ever deeper into the rolling country, until at last he reached the real forest. he had come several miles, and realized that he could not retrace his steps, for the trail had branched many times; he had crossed other pathways and made many devours. he rejoiced in the thought that he had successfully lost himself. at midday he paused in an open glade against a hillside to eat his lunch. back of him the rising ground was heavily timbered; beneath him a confusion of thickets and groves and cleared fields led out to a green plain as clean as any golf links, upon which were scattered dwellings. evidently this was the savannas of which he had heard so much, and these foreign-looking bungalows were the country homes of the rich panamanians. beyond, the bay stretched, in unruffled calm, like a sheet of quicksilver, its bosom dotted with rocky islets, while hidden in the haze to the southward, as he knew, were the historic pearl islands, where the early spaniards had enriched themselves. gazing at this view in lazy enjoyment, kirk found himself thinking how good it was to be young and free, and to be set down in such a splendidly romantic country. above all, it was good to be heart-whole and unfettered by any woman's spell--men in love were unhappy persons, harassed by a thousand worries and indecisions, utterly lacking in poise. it was a lamentable condition of hysteria with which he decided to have nothing to do. he did not care for women, anyhow. one could scarcely have any dealings with them without becoming involved in some affair that unduly harrowed one's feelings. how much better it was to know the clean spirit of adventure and the joy of living, undisturbed by feverish emotions! as he reclined there, busied with these thoughts, two vivid little paroquets alighted near him, to quarrel noisily, then make up and kiss each other like any pair of lovers. it was disgusting. a toucan peered at him with an appearance of exaggerated curiosity, due to its huge, grotesquely proportioned beak. now and then came the harsh notes of parrots as they fluttered high above the tree-tops. meanwhile the young man's ears became attuned to the jungle noises, his eyes observant of the many kinds of life about him. the wood was crowded with plant-life utterly strange to him. on the hill above towered a giant ceiba-tree, its trunk as smooth as if polished by hand and bare of branches except at the very top, where, instead of tapering, it ended abruptly in a tuft of foliage. here and there stood tremendous cotton-trees, their limbs so burdened with air-plants as to form a series of aerial gardens, their twigs bearing pods filled with down. beside them palm-trees raised their heads, heavy with clusters of nuts resembling dates in size and form, but fit only for wild pigs. clumps of bamboo were scattered about, their shoots springing from a common centre like the streams from a fountain, and sweeping through graceful curves to a spray of shimmering green. he had never seen such varieties of growth. there were thick trees with bulbous swellings; tall trees with buttressed roots that ran high up the trunks; slender trees propped up head-high above the earth on tripod-like roots or clusters of legs; trees with bark that shone like a mirror; trees guarded with an impregnable armor of six-inch bony spikes--kirk did not know the names of half of them, nor did he care to learn. vines and creepers abounded, from the tiny honeysuckle that reared itself with feeble filaments, to the giant liana creeping through the forest like a python, throttling full-grown trees in its embrace. on every side was the never-ceasing battle for light and the struggle of the weak against the strong. the air was heavy with the breath of triumphant blooms and the odor of defeated, decaying life. a thousand voiceless tragedies were being enacted; the wood was peopled by distorted shapes that spoke of forgotten encounters; rich, riotous, parasitic growths flourished upon starved limbs or rotting trunks. it was weird and beautiful and pitiless. unlike the peaceful order of our northern forests, here was a savage riot, an unending treacherous warfare without light or room or mercy. there was something terrible in it all. tiring of the scene at last, kirk continued his wanderings, bearing gradually toward the right, that he might eventually emerge upon the savannas below, where he knew there was a good paved road leading to the city. but the trails were devious and seemed to lead nowhere, so at last he struck out through the jungle itself. having no machete with which to clear a way, his progress was slow, but he took his time, keeping a wary outlook for game, twisting back and forth to avoid the densest thickets, until he finally came out upon the margin of a stream. through the verdure beyond it he saw the open, sunlit meadows, and he followed the bank in the hope of finding a foot-log or a bridge upon which to cross. he had gone, perhaps, a hundred yards when he stumbled out into a cleared space, where he paused with an exclamation of surprise. the brook had been dammed and widened into a deep, limpid pool to which the clean, white sand of its bottom lent a golden hue. at the lower end it overflowed in a waterfall, the purling music of which filled the glade. overhead the great trees were arched together and interlaced, their lower branches set with flowering orchids like hothouse plants upon a window-ledge. the dense foliage allowed only a random beam of sunlight to pass through and pierce the pool, like a brilliant, quivering javelin. long vines depended from the limbs above, falling sheer and straight as plumb-lines; a giant liana the size of a man's body twined up and up until lost in the tangle overhead. although set just within the border of the untouched forest, it was evident that this spot had been carefully cut away and artfully cultivated. but, if man's hand had aided nature by a few deft touches here and there and a careful pruning of her lavish riches, it could be seen that no human artist had designed the wondrous stage effect. to step suddenly out of an uncut wilderness into such a scene as this was bewildering, and made the american gasp with delight. the place had an air of strictest privacy. a spring-board mirrored in the depths below invited one to plunge, a pair of iron gymnasium rings were swung by chains to a massive limb, a flight of stone steps led up the bank and into a hut artistically thatched and walled with palm-leaves to harmonize with its setting. kirk thanked his fortune that he had not blundered in while the place was in use, for it had almost the sacred air of a lady's boudoir. instead of promptly withdrawing, he allowed his admiration full play, and stood staring for a long time. what a delightful nook in which to dream away the days! it was dim and cool and still, although outside its walls of green the afternoon sun was beating down fiercely. a stranger might pass and never guess its presence. it had been cunningly shaped by fairies, that was evident. doubtless it was peopled by them also, and his mistake had been in coming upon it so suddenly. if he had approached with caution he would surely have surprised them at their play, for yonder was the music of their dances--that chuckling, singing waterfall could serve no other purpose. perhaps one was hidden under it at present. kirk was half tempted to conceal himself and wait for them to reappear, though he knew that it requires extraordinary cunning to deceive wood-sprites once they have been alarmed. but, undoubtedly, they were somewhere close by, probably watching him from behind the leaves, and if they were not such timid bodies he might try to search them out. as it was, he took a lingering, farewell look and turned to retrace his steps, whereupon the queen fairy laughed at him softly. he paused abruptly, then turned around, with care, so as not to frighten her. but of course she was invisible. then she spoke again with the sweetest foreign accent imaginable. "you had better cross upon the waterfall, sir. there is no bridge above." after an instant, during which he strained his eyes to find her, she laughed again. "here i am, in the tree, across the pond." "oh!" looking over the fork of a tree-trunk, perhaps twice the height of his head above the ground, anthony beheld a ravishing face and two very bright eyes. without removing his gaze, he leaned his gun carefully against a bush--firearms have an abominable effect upon hamadryads--and said: "i knew you were here all the time." "indeed!" the eyes opened in astonishment. "you did not see me at all." "of course, but i knew you were somewhere close by, just the same. how did you get up there?" "i climbed up." "why didn't you hide under the waterfall?" "i did not hide, senor. i am trying to reach my orchid." a little hand appeared beside the face, and a finger pointed to one of the big air plants above her. kirk beheld a marvellous white, dove-shaped flower, nodding upon a slender stalk. "i climbed up on the big vine; it is just like a ladder." "then you can't be the queen!" two very large, very dark eyes looked at him questioningly. "queens don't pick flowers," he explained. "they hide in 'em." "the queen?" "some of them live in trees, and some preside over lakes and fountains. which kind are you?" "oh! i am neither, i live in my father's house." she tossed her head in the direction of the savannas behind her. "do you wish to cross the stream?" "if you please." "wait." the face disappeared. there was a sound from behind the twisted tree-trunk, a twig fell, then a piece of bark, and the next instant the girl herself stepped into view. "i was afraid you'd gone for good," acknowledged the young man, gravely. he took up his gun and stepped out upon the crest of the dam. "you must look where you go," she admonished, "or you will fall--splash!" she laughed delightedly at the thought, and he saw that her eyes had a way of wrinkling almost shut in the merriest fashion. he balanced upon the slippery surface of the waterway with the stream up to his ankles. "will you promise not to whisk yourself away if i look down?" he asked. "yes." but even with this assurance he found it difficult to remove his eyes from her even for the brief instant necessary for a safe passage; and when at last he stood beside her he felt an irresistible desire to seize her gently so that she could not escape. "well?" she said at length, and he found he had been standing stock-still staring at her for several seconds. "excuse me! i really took you for a wood-nymph. i'm not sure yet--you see the place is so well suited. it--it was a natural mistake." she dropped her eyes shyly and turned away at his look. "it is only our swimming-pool. there have been no fairies here since i was a very little girl. but once upon a time there were many--oh, a great many." it was impossible to describe the odd, sweet sound her tongue gave to the english words. it was not a dialect, hardly an accent, just a delicious, hesitating mannerism born of unfamiliarity. "did you ever see them?" "n-no! i arrived always a little too late. but there are such things." he nodded. "everybody knows that since 'peter pan.'" another shy glance told her that he was still regarding her with his look of wondering admiration. she pointed to a path, saying: "this way will bring you to the road, sir, if you wish." "but--i don't wish--not yet." he sought wildly for an excuse to stay, and exclaimed: "oh, the orchid. i must get it for you." "that will be very nice of you, sir. for two years i have awaited its blooming. if you had not arrived i would have got it, anyhow." "girls shouldn't climb trees," he said, severely. "it tears their dresses." "oh, one cannot tear a dress like this." she glanced down at her skirt. allowing his eyes to leave her face for a moment, kirk saw that she was clad, oddly enough, in a suit of denim, which was buttoned snugly clear to her neck. it struck him as most inappropriate, yet it was extremely well made, and he could not complain of the effect. he broke his gun and removed the shells; then, leaving it beside the bath-house, went to the tree where he had first seen her. with one hand resting upon the trunk, he turned to say: "promise you won't disappear while i'm up there, or change into a squirrel, or a bird, or anything like that." "what a funny man you are!" "do you promise?" "yes, yes." "do you live around here?" "of course." "why do you want this orchid?" "to put it in the house." instead of beginning his climb, the young man lounged idly against the tree. "funny how i found you, wasn't it?" he remarked. "i mean it's funny i should have stumbled right on you this way--there's only one of you and one of me, and--er--this country is so big! i might have gone some other way and then perhaps we'd never have met." he contemplated this contingency for an instant. "and if you hadn't spoken i'd never have seen you, either." "but i had to speak. you could not cross above." "awfully nice of you. some people would have let me go away." "but the orchid, senor. do you fear to climb so high?" she inquired, with the faintest gleam of amusement at his obvious effort to prolong the conversation. "oh no!" he cast about for something further to talk about, but, failing to find it, began slowly to clamber upward, supporting himself upon the natural steps afforded by the twining vine and the protuberances of the trunk itself. when he had reached the first fork, he turned and seated himself comfortably, peering downward through the leaves for a sight of her. "not gone yet!" he exclaimed. "that's good." "are you out of breath that you stop so soon?" he nodded. "i need to rest a minute. say, my name is anthony--kirk anthony." then, after a pause, "i'm an american." "so am i, at least i am almost. my mother was an american." "you don't say!" the young man's face lighted up with interest, and he started eagerly down the tree-trunk, but she checked him promptly. "the orchid!" "oh yes!" he reseated himself. "well, well, i suppose your mother taught you to speak english?" "i also attended school in baltimore." anthony dangled his legs from his perch and brushed aside a troublesome prickly pod that depended in such a position as to tickle his neck. "i'm from yale. ever been to new haven? what are you laughing at?" "at you. do you know what it is which you are fighting from your neck?" "this?" kirk succeeded in locating the nettle that had annoyed him. "yes. it is cow-eetch. wait! by-and-by you will scratch like everything." the young lady laughed with the most mischievous, elf-like enjoyment of this prospect. "all right. just for that, i will wait." now that the first surprise of meeting was over, kirk began a really attentive scrutiny of this delightful young person. so far he had been conscious of little except her eyes, which had exercised a most remarkable effect upon him from the first. he had never cared for black eyes--they were too hard and sparkling, as a rule--but these--well, he had never seen anything quite like them. they were large and soft and velvety, like--like black pansies! that was precisely what they were, saucy, wide-awake black pansies, the most beautiful flower in all creation; and, while they were shadowed by the intangible melancholy of the tropics, they were also capable of twinkling in the most roguish manner imaginable, as at the present moment. her hair was soft and fine, entirely free from the harsh lustre so common to that shade, and it grew down upon her temples in a way that completed the perfect oval of her face. his first glimpse had told him she was ravishingly pretty, but it had failed to show how dainty and small she was. he saw now that she was considerably below the usual height, but so perfectly proportioned that one utterly lost perspective. even her thick, coarse dress could not conceal the exquisite mould in which she was cast. but her chief charm lay in a certain winsome vivacity, a willful waywardness, an ever-changing expression which showed her keenly alive and appreciative. even now pure mischief looked out of her eyes as she asked: "have you rested enough to attack the orchid?" "yes." he roused himself from his trance, and with a strangely leaping heart proceeded carefully to detach the big air plant from its resting-place. the wonderful flower, nodding to his touch, was no more perfect than this dryad whom he had surprised. "don't break it," she cautioned as he came gingerly down the tree. "it is what we call 'espiritu santa,' the 'holy spirit' flower. see, it is like a white bird." "first one i've seen," he said, noting how the purity of the bloom enhanced the olive of her cheek. then he began another fruitless search for a topic of conversation, fearing that if he allowed the slightest pause she would send him away. but all his thoughts were of her, it seemed. his tongue would frame nothing but eager questions--all about herself. at last in desperation he volunteered to get another orchid; but the suggestion met with no approval. there were no more, she told him, of that kind. "maybe we can find one," he said, hopefully. "thank you. i know them all." she was looking at him now as if wondering why he did not make a start, but wild horses could not have dragged him away. instead of picking up his gun, he inquired: "may i rest a moment? i'm awfully tired." "certainly. you may stay as long as you wish. when you are rested the little path will bring you out." "but you mustn't go!" he exclaimed, in a panic, as she turned away. "oh, i say, please! you wouldn't do a thing like that?" "i cannot speak to you this way, sir." the young lady blushed prettily. "why not, i'd like to know?" "oh!" she raised her hand and shook her head to express the absolute impossibility of such a thing. "already i have been terrible. what will stephanie say?" "you've been nothing of the sort, and who is stephanie?" "she is a big black woman--very fierce. it is because of stephanie that the fairies have gone away from here." "if we wait a minute, maybe they'll come out." "no. i have waited many times and i never saw them." "somehow i feel sure we'll see 'em this time," he urged. then, as she shook her head doubtfully: "good heavens! don't you want to see 'em? i'm so tired that i must sit down." the corners of her eyes wrinkled as she said, "you are not very strong, senor. have you been ill?" "yes--no. not exactly." he led her to a bamboo bench beside the palm hut. "i've been hunting. now won't you please tell me how you chanced to be here? i thought these country places were unoccupied at this season." "so they are. but, you see, i am doing a penance." "penance! you?" "oh yes. and it is nothing to laugh about, either," she chided, as he smiled incredulously, "i am a bad girl; i am disobedient. otherwise i would not allow you to speak to me alone like this. you are the first gentleman i have ever been so long in the company with, senor antonio." "really?" "now i will have to do more penance." she sighed sadly, but her eyes were dancing. "i don't understand this penance affair. what do you do?" she lifted a fold of her coarse denim dress. "for six months i must wear these garments--no pretty ones. i must not go out in public also, and i have been sent here away from the city for a time to cure my rebellious spirit." "those dresses must be hot." "oh, very uncomfortable! but, you see, i was bad." "not very bad?" "indeed. i disobeyed my father, my uncle, everybody." for the first time her eyes grew bright with anger. "but i did not wish to be married." "now, i see. they wanted you to marry some fellow you don't like?" "i do like him--" "you did exactly right to refuse. by all means stand pat, and don't--" "'stand pat.' i have not heard that word since i was in baltimore." "it's awful to marry somebody you don't like," he declared, with such earnest conviction that she inquired, quickly: "ah, then are you married?" "no! but everybody says it's positively criminal to marry without love." "the gentleman is very handsome." he shuddered, "beware of handsome men. if you have any idea of marriage, select a large, plain man with blue eyes and light hair." "i do not know such a person." "not yet, of course; that is, not well enough to marry him." "it is not nice to speak of such things," said the young lady, primly. "and it is not nice also to speak with strange gentlemen who come out of the forest when one is doing penance. but i am a half american, you know. perhaps that is what makes me so bad." "will you catch it for talking to me?" "oh yes. it is not allowed. it is most improper." "then i suppose i'd better leave." anthony settled himself more comfortably upon the bench. "and yet there is nothing really wrong about it, is there? why, it's done every day in my country. besides, who's going to know?" "the padre. i tell him everything." "you girls down here have a pretty tough time of it; you are guarded pretty closely, aren't you?" she gave him a puzzled look. "i mean, you don't have any liberty. you don't go out alone, or let fellows take you to lunch, or to the matinee, or anything like that?" evidently the mere mention of such things was shocking. "oh, senor," she cried, incredulously, "such terrible actions cannot be permitted even in your country. it is awful to think of!" "nonsense! it's done every day." "here it would not do at all. one's people know best about such things. one must be careful at all times. but you americans are so wicked!" "how does a fellow ever get acquainted with a girl down here? how does he get a chance to propose?" but this frank questioning on so sacred a topic was a little more than the young lady was prepared to meet, and for the moment confusion held her tongue-tied. "one's people attend to that, of course," she managed to say, at length, then changed the subject quickly. "do you live in panama?" she asked. "yes. i work on the railroad, or will, in a few days." "you are so young for such authority. it must be very difficult to manage railroads." "well--i won't have to run the whole works--at first. i'm beginning gradually, you know--one train at a time." "that will be easier, of course. what did you say is your whole name?" "kirk anthony." "keerk! it has a fonny sound, has it not?" "i never noticed it. and yours?" "do you speak spanish?" she regarded him curiously. "not a word." "my name is chiquita." he repeated it after her. "it's pretty. what is your last name?" "that is it. if i told you my first name, you could not use it; it would not be proper." "it ought to be something like ariel. that means 'spirit of the air and water,' i believe. ariel chiquita. no, they don't go together. what are you laughing at?" "to see you scratch your neck." anthony became conscious of a growing sensation where the strange pod had dangled against his skin, and realized that he had been rubbing the spot for some time. "you did not know it was the cow-nettle, eh?" "you enjoy seeing me suffer," he said, patiently. "you do not soffer," she retorted, mimicking his tone. "you only eetch! you wish me to sympathize." "see here, miss chiquita, may i call on you?" "oh!" she lifted her brows in amazement. "such ideas! of a certainly not." "why?" "you do not onderstand. our young men do not do those things." "then i'll do whatever is customary--really i will, but--i'm awfully anxious to see you again--and--' "i do not know you--my father--" "i'll look up mr. chiquita and be introduced." at this the young lady began to rock back and forth in an abandon of merriment. the idea, it seemed, was too utterly ridiculous for words. her silvery laughter filled the glade and caused the jealous waterfall to cease its music. "no, no," she said, finally. "it is impossible. besides, i am doing penance. i can see no one. in the city i cannot even sit upon the balcony." she fetched a palpably counterfeit sigh, which ended in a titter. never had kirk beheld such a quaintly mischievous, such a madly tantalizing creature. "say! you're not really going to marry that fellow!" he exclaimed, with considerable fervor. she shrugged her shoulders wearily. "i suppose so. one cannot forever say no, and there are many reasons--" "oh, that's the limit. you'll go nutty, married to a chap you don't care for." "but i am naughty, now." "not 'naughty'--nutty. you'll be perfectly miserable. there ought to be a law against it. let me call and talk it over, at least. i know all about marriage--i've been around so many married people. promise?" "i cannot let you 'call,' as you say. besides, for two weeks yet i must remain here alone with stephanie." she regarded him mournfully. "every day i must do my penance, and think of my sins, and--perhaps look for orchids." he saw the light that flickered in the depths of her velvet eyes, and his heart pounded violently at the unspoken invitation. "to-morrow?" he inquired, breathlessly. "do you intend to hunt orchids to-morrow?" instead of answering she started to her feet with a little cry, and he did likewise. back of them had sounded an exclamation--it was more like the snort of a wild animal than a spoken word--and there, ten feet away, stood a tall, copper-colored negress, her eyes blazing, her nostrils dilated, a look of utmost fury upon her face. she was fully as tall as kirk, gaunt, hook-nosed, and ferocious. about her head was bound a gaudy barbadian head-dress, its tips erect like startled ears, increasing the wildness of her appearance. "stephanie!" exclaimed the girl. "you frightened me." the negress strode to her, speaking rapidly in spanish, then turned upon kirk. "what do you want here?" she cried, menacingly. she had thrust her charge behind her and now pierced him with her eyes. "miss chiquita--" he began, at which that young lady broke into another peal of silvery laughter and chattered to her servant. but her words, instead of placating the black woman, only added to her fury. she pointed with quivering hand to the path along the creek-bank and cried: "go! go quick, you man!" then to her charge: "you bad, bad! go to the house." "miss chiquita hasn't done anything to make you huffy. i came out of the woods yonder and she was good enough to direct me to the road." but stephanie was not to be appeased. she stamped her flat foot and repeated her command in so savage a tone that kirk perceived the uselessness of trying to explain. he looked appealingly at the girl, but she merely nodded her head and motioned him to be gone. "very well," he said, regretfully. "thank you for your assistance, miss." he bowed to the little figure in blue with his best manner and took up his gun. "this way out! no crowding, please." "adios, senor antonio," came the girl's mischievous voice, and as he strode down the path he carried with him the memory of a perfect oval face smiling at him past the tragic figure of the bajan woman. he went blindly, scarcely aware of the sun-mottled trail his feet were following, for his wits were a-flutter and his heart was leaping to some strange intoxication that grew with every instant. it threatened to suffuse him, choke him, rob him of his senses; he wanted to cry out. her name was chiquita. he repeated it over and over in time to his steps. was there ever such a beautiful name? was there ever such a ravishing little wood-sprite? and her sweet, hesitating accent that rang in his ears! how could human tongue make such caressing music of the harshest language on the globe? she had called him "senor antonio," and invited him to come again to-morrow. would he come? he doubted his ability to wait so long. knowing that she agreed to the tryst, no power on earth could deter him. what a day it had been! he had started out in the morning, vaguely hoping to divert his mind with some of those trite little happenings that for lack of a better term we call adventures in this humdrum world. and then, with the miraculous, unbelievable luck of youth, he had stumbled plump into the middle of the most wondrous adventure it was possible to conceive. and yet this wasn't adventure, after all--it was something bigger, finer, more precious. with a suddenness that was blinding he realized that he was in love! yes, that was it, beyond the shadow of a doubt. this mischief-ridden, foreign-born little creature was the one and only woman in the world for whom the fates had made him and brought him across two oceans. that evening he sat for a long time alone on the gallery of his hotel, his spirit uplifted with the joy of it, a thousand whispering voices in his ears. and when at last he fell asleep it was to dream of an olive, oval face with eyes like black pansies. xiv the path that led nowhere when "senor antonio" awoke the next morning he lay for an instant striving to recall what it was that had haunted his sleeping hours, what great event awaited him. then, as it rushed through his mind, he leaped out of bed and dashed headlong into the bath-room. this was to-morrow! it had been ages in coming--he recalled how even his slumbers had dragged--but it was here at last, and he would see chiquita. he sang as he stepped under his shower, and whistled blithely as he dressed himself. what a glorious country this panama was, anyhow! how good it was to be young and to be in love! he never had been so happy. a man must be in love to sing before breakfast. but the afternoon was still a long way off, and he must be content to dream until the hour came. he was too early for the cortlandts, and he breakfasted alone. when he strolled out upon the veranda for his smoke he found allan waiting for him, as usual. the jamaican had not missed a morning so far, and it was only by a show of downright firmness that kirk had been able to get rid of him at any time during the day. the black boy seemed bent upon devoting his every waking hour to his hero, and now, finding himself regarded with friendly eyes, he expanded joyously. "got you some games yesterday?" he inquired. "yes. and i'm going again to-day." "plenty games over yonder is, but it is very fatiguing to get them. to-day i go along for showing you the way." "not a bit like it. i'm going alone." "oh no, boss!" "oh yes, boss! i accidentally shot the last man i hunted with--killed him." kirk stared tragically at his companion, but allan was not to be so easily deterred. "i shall pahss behind you, boss." "i'd love to have you, of course--but i'm too careless." "praise god, you must not go h'alone in that case, or something will befall you! i shall h'imitate the birds and call them out before you to fire at." "fire at! i don't fire at things, i hit 'em." "yes, sar. in that case we shall procure plenty of games." "see here! i'm going alone, understand? i have an engagement with a naiad." "'ow much a month will you be getting for such h'engagements?" "naiads don't pay in money, they give you smiles and kind words." "better you continue then as train collector. there is great h'opportunity for stealing." "my job won't be ready for a few days, and meanwhile i have become a huntsman. i intend to go out every afternoon." "h'afternoons is no good for wild h'animals; they are sleeping. walk they in the h'early morning, for the most part, very quietly." "that's true of some wood creatures, but the kind i hunt dance along the edges of pools in the afternoon. say, did you ever feel like dancing?" "no, sar." "come around on the back porch and i'll teach you a buck-step. i feel too good to sit still." but allan refused this proffer firmly. such frivolous conduct was beneath his dignity. "i 'ave h'important things to disclose," he said, mysteriously. "indeed." "yes, sar. last night i dreamed." "you've got nothing on me; so did i." "i am walking on the h'edge of the h'ocean when i h'encountered a whale--a 'uge whale." "swam ashore to rest, i suppose?" "no, sar; he was dead. it was very vivid." "well, what has a vivid dead whale to do with me?" "this!" allan brought forth a sheet of paper, which he unfolded carefully. "there is the number--the 'fish number,' sar." "why, this is a chinese lottery advertisement." "i got it for the very purpose. it would pay us to h'invest some money on the 'fish number.'" "nonsense! i don't believe in dreams. you say yourself they are false." "never such a dream as this, boss. it was very vivid." "i've got no money." allan folded the paper disconsolately and thrust it into his pocket. "it is fartunate h'indeed," said he, "that you will be working soon, master h'auntony. and those p. r. r. was very fartunate also for getting you to h'accept a position, very fartunate h'indeed." "do you think i will raise the standard of efficiency?" "most of those railroad persons are vile people. they threw me h'off the train with such violence that my joints are very stiff and h'inflamed. i should h'enjoy being boss over them for a while." "why don't you ask for a job?" "i have decided to do so, and i am asking you now for an h'engagement as brakesman." "i can't hire you. go to the office." "probably there are h'already brakesmen on your train." "i have no doubt." "in that case i shall ride with you as private person." "ride back and forth every day?" "those are my h'expectations, sar." "that costs money." "you will be collector," remarked the negro, calmly. "i should like to see those train people h'expel me, in that case." "well! i can see trouble ahead for one of us," laughed anthony. "they don't allow 'dead-heads.'" but allan replied with unshaken confidence: "then you should secure for me a pahss." kirk found it extremely difficult to escape from his persistent shadow that afternoon, and he succeeded only after a display of armed resistance. it was the hottest part of the day when he set out, gun on arm, yet he never thought of the discomfort. after skirting the city, he swung into the fine macadam road that had brought him home the night before, and much sooner than he expected he arrived at the little path that led into the forest. he knew that he was trespassing again, and the knowledge added to his delight. as quickly as possible he lost himself in the grateful shade and followed the stream-bank with beating heart. his head was full of vague hopes and plans. he meant to learn the true story of miss chiquita's penance and find some means of winning her away from that other lover, of whom he had already thought more than once. he determined to make his love known without delay and establish himself as a regular suitor. as upon the previous day, he broke into the glade before he suspected its presence, to find the same golden light-beams flickering in the shadowed depths and to hear the little waterfall chuckling at his surprise. there was the tree from which she had called to him, yonder the bench where they had sat together. of course, he was too early--he wanted to be, in order not to miss an instant of her company, so he seated himself and dreamed about her. the minutes dragged, the jungle drowsed. an hour passed. a thousand fresh, earthy odors breathed around him, and he began to see all sorts of flowers hidden away in unsuspected places. from the sunlit meadows outside came a sound of grazing herds, the deep woods faintly echoed the harsh calls of tropic birds, but at the pool itself a sleepy silence brooded. once a chattering squirrel came bravely rustling through the branches to the very edge of the enchanted bower, but he only sat and stared a moment in seeming admiration, then retreated quietly. a yellow-beaked toucan, in a flash of red and black and gold, settled upon a mirrored limb; but it, too, stilled its raucous tongue and flitted away on noiseless pinions as if the naiads were asleep. in the moist earth beside the bench anthony saw the print of a dainty boot, no longer than his palm, and he promptly fell into a rhapsody. what tiny hands and feet she had, to be sure, and such a sweetly melancholy face! yet she was anything but grave and gloomy. why, the sunlight dancing on that waterfall was no more mischievous and merry than she. the slight suggestion of sadness she conveyed was but the shadow of the tropic mystery or the afterglow of the tragedy that had played so large a part in this country's history. the fact that she was half american perhaps accounted for her daring, yet, whatever the other strain, it could not be ignoble. mrs. cortlandt's figure of the silver threads in a rotting altar-cloth recurred to him with peculiar force. but why didn't she come? a sudden apprehension overtook him, which grew and grew as the afternoon wore away. it was a very miserable young man who wandered out through the fragrant path, as the first evening shadows settled, and bent his dejected steps toward the city. evidently something had occurred to prevent her keeping her tryst, but he determined to return on the morrow, and then if she did not come to follow that other path right up to the house, where he would risk everything for a word with her. he wondered if she had stayed away purposely to test him, and the thought gave him a thrill. if so, she would soon learn that he was in earnest; she would find him waiting there every afternoon and--after all, why confine himself to the afternoon when she was just as likely to appear in the morning? he resolved to go hunting earlier hereafter, and give the whole day to it. meanwhile, he would make cautious inquiries. it was considerably after dark when he reached the hotel, and his friends had dined; but he encountered mr. cortlandt later. if edith's husband suspected anything of what had occurred a night or two ago, his countenance gave no sign of it. for some reason or other, kirk had not been troubled in the slightest by the thought that cortlandt might be told. he could not imagine edith making him the confidant of her outraged feelings. besides, would such a strangely impassive person resent any little indiscretion in which his wife might choose to indulge? kirk did not know--the man was a puzzle to him. cortlandt's voice was thoroughly non-committal as he inquired: "where have you been keeping yourself?" "i've been hunting, to kill time." "any luck?" "no, none at all. i started too late, i guess." "by-the-way," continued the other, "your friend allan has been besieging edith, imploring her to use her influence to get him a position. he has set his heart upon going to work with you." "he is becoming a positive nuisance. i can't get rid of him." "i never saw such hero-worship." "oh, all niggers are hysterical." "let me give you a bit of advice, anthony. remember there are no 'niggers' and 'whites' in this country--they are both about equal. the president of the republic is a black man, and a very good one, too." "that reminds me. i hear he is to be succeeded by the father of my friend, alfarez." cortlandt hesitated. "general alfarez is a candidate. he is a very strong man, but--" "i am glad there is a 'but.'" "it isn't settled, by any means. the successful candidate will need the support of our government." "i suppose the alfarez family is one of the first settlers--mayflower stock?" "oh, worse than that. the name runs back to balboa's time. general alfarez is very rich, and very proud of his ancestry. that is one thing that makes him so strong with the people." "what are some of the other leading families?" kirk artfully inquired. "there are a number. the martinezes, the moras, the garavels--i couldn't name them all. they are very fine people, too." "do you know the chiquitas?" cortlandt's face relaxed in an involuntary smile. "there is no such family. who has been teaching you spanish?" "really, isn't there?" "'chiquita' means 'very small,' 'little one,' 'little girl,' or something like that. it's not a family name, it's a term of endearment, usually." kirk remembered now how the girl's eyes had danced when she asked him if he spoke her language. it was just like her to tease him, and yet what a pretty way to conceal her identity! "what made you take it for a proper name?" "a-a little girl told me." "oh, naturally. all children are 'chiquitas' or 'chiquitos'--everything, in fact, that is a pet." kirk felt somewhat uncomfortable under the older man's gaze of quiet amusement. "but these other families," he went on in some confusion--"i mean the ones like those you just mentioned--they sometimes intermarry with americans, don't they?" "no, not the better class. there have been a few instances, i believe, but for the most part they keep to themselves." "how would a fellow set about meeting the nice people." "he wouldn't. he would probably live here indefinitely and never see the inside of a panamanian house." "but there must be some way," the young man exclaimed in desperation. "there must be dances, parties--" "of course, but americans are not invited. the men are easy to get acquainted with, charming, courteous, gentlemanly, but i dare say you will leave panama without so much as meeting their wives or sisters. but why this consuming curiosity? has some senorita struck your fancy?" in spite of his effort to appear unconcerned, kirk felt that he looked abominably self-conscious. without waiting for a reply, cortlandt continued to give him information as if he enjoyed it. "i suppose one reason why so few americans marry panamanians is that our men like at least to get acquainted with their brides before marriage, and that is impossible in this country. a man never sees a girl alone, you know. when he calls to court her he wooes the whole family, who vote on him, so to speak. that doesn't appeal to us who originated the mother-in-law joke. there aren't many northern chaps who would consent to select a wife by pointing her out like a bolt of calico on a top shelf." kirk suddenly realized to the full how egregious his request to call must have appeared to the spanish girl. what a fool he had been, to be sure! for a moment he lost himself in a contemplation of the difficulties so unexpectedly presented. he was brought to himself by the words: "--to-morrow you will go to work." "what's that?" he broke forth in a panic. "i can't go to work to-morrow; i'm going hunting." cortlandt eyed him curiously. "i didn't say to-morrow. i said runnells 'phoned that he would be ready for you day after to-morrow. what is the matter with you? have you lost your head over shooting, or don't you care to work?" "oh, neither," he said, hastily. "i merely misunderstood you. of course, the sooner the better." "yes, as you say, the sooner the better," said cortlandt, with a shade of meaning. "well, good-night, and good-luck to you in your shooting!" it was with much less self-assurance that kirk set out again on the next morning, for this was his last day of grace, and he realized that unless he accomplished something definite it might be a considerable time before he could continue his quest. in view of what the girl had said regarding her engagement, delays seemed particularly dangerous. he haunted the vicinity of the meeting-place all the morning, but no one came, and a heavy shower at midday drove him into the palm-thatched hut for shelter. when it had passed he put an end to his indecision and boldly took the other path. at least he would find out where she lived and who she was. but once again he was disappointed. the trail led out through the grove to the rain-drenched pasture, where it disappeared, and, instead of one house, he saw three, half hidden in foliage and all facing in the opposite direction. they stood upon the crest of a hill fronting the road, and he realized that the pool might be the bathing-place for the inmates of one or all of them. up past the grazing stock he went and around to the front of the nearest residence, which proved to be a low, rambling, bungalow affair with many outhouses smothered in a profusion of vines and fruit-trees. evidently it was unoccupied, for heavy wooden shutters barricaded the windows, and no one answered his knock, although some pigeons perched upon the tile roof cooed at him in a friendly manner. he struck across lots to the next house, but met with no better success, and he approached the third dwelling with a certain hesitation, for it was his last chance. it was more pretentious than the rest, and stood proudly upon the highest point of the ridge, up which ran a private road guarded by twin rows of stately royal palms, whose perfectly rounded trunks seemed to have been turned upon some giant lathe. the house itself was large, square, and double-galleried. it was shaded by lofty hard-wood trees and overlooked a sort of formal garden, now badly in need of care. the road was of shell, and where it entered the grounds passed through a huge iron gate suspended upon concrete pillars. the whole place had an air of wealth and exclusiveness. here, too, the windows stared at him blindly, and he saw no evidence of occupation; yet he advanced and pounded vigorously on the door. failing to rouse any one, he paused to take a general view of the surroundings. scattered upon every side were other winter homes, some bleaching nakedly in the open, others peeping out from luxuriant groves, some mean and poor, others really beautiful and impressive. he knew that he was in the heart of panama's exclusive winter colony, where her wealthy residents came to avoid the heat. unwilling to acknowledge himself beaten, he plodded from one place to another, calling at all the nearest houses, finding most of them locked, and begging a glass of water where he chanced to be more fortunate. nowhere did he see the girl or the barbadian woman, nowhere did he receive an intelligible answer to his questions. the caretakers looked upon him with suspicion, and made it known that he was unwelcome, while their women retreated at sight of him. even the children were unfriendly. once, indeed, he heard the name that had been ringing so steadily in his ears, and it gave him a wild thrill until he discovered that it was only a negress calling to her child. afterward it seemed that he heard it everywhere. on his disconsolate journey home it was spoken twenty times, being applied indifferently to dogs, cats, parrots, and naked youngsters, each mention causing him to start and listen. whether the girl had been playing with him, or whether she had been prevented from keeping her word, was of little moment now. he loved her and he intended to have her! he shut his teeth grimly and made a vow to find her if he had to invade every home in las savannas, or pull apart the walls of panama. xv alias jefferson locke it was fortunate for kirk, on the whole, that his last expedition had proved a failure, for his methods were none of the most discreet; and it was as well, perhaps, that his work on the railroad intervened to prevent further wild incursions. he was detailed to ride no. , which left panama at . , returning on no. , which arrived at . p.m. for a few days he made the run in company with the train collector, whose position he was destined to fill; and, as the duties were by no means difficult, he quickly mastered them. he had quarters assigned to him, and regretfully took leave of his luxurious room and bath at the tivoli. he also donned cap and linen uniform, and became an insignificant, brass-tagged unit in the army of canal workers. ordinarily he would have resented this loss of individuality, but the novelty of the thing appealed to him, and he brought a great good-nature to his work, deriving sufficient amusement from it to prevent it from growing tiresome. for a time it offended his fastidious taste to be forced to elbow his way through superheated coaches jammed with shrieking, cackling, incoherent negroes. they were all utterly hysterical, and apparently possessed but one stubborn idea--to refuse payments of fares. but in time he grew to enjoy even this. he was glad of his new-found independence, moreover, for, though it did not cancel his obligation to the cortlandts, it made him feel it less keenly. as for his quarters, they were quite tolerable--about the same as he had had at boarding-school, he reflected, and the meals were better. they were not quite up to sherry's or martin's, it was true, but they cost only thirty cents, and that had advantages. certainly he could not complain of a lack of incident in his new life. on his first trip to colon and back he had nine disputes and two fights, and threw one man off--a record achievement, he was told, for a beginner. a further diversion was furnished by allan, who appeared early in the morning and all but assaulted the gateman, who refused to let him pass without a ticket. it took the entire station force to prevent him from starting for colon as kirk's guest. he considered it a matter of course that his friend should offer him the courtesies of the road, and he went away at last, wofully disappointed but not discouraged. on the evening of that eventful day, instead of returning to his new quarters, kirk proceeded to walk the streets in search of a certain face. he strolled through the plazas; he idled in front of the most pretentious residences; he tramped wearily back and forth through dim-lit, narrow streets, gazing up at windows and balconies, harkening for the tone of a voice or the sound of a girl's laughter. but he was without the slightest success, and it was very late when he finally retired, to dream, as usual, of chiquita. several days passed, and he began to feel a little dull. he was making no progress in his quest, and he did feel the lack of congenial society. then one evening there came a note from edith cortlandt briefly requesting him to come and see her. he was a little surprised, yet he was conscious of a certain relief. he had not felt like intruding upon her with further explanations and apologies; but since she wished him to come--perhaps they could meet, after all, in a natural way. he wanted to get rid of the wretched misunderstanding that lay between them. if he were to leave the country that night never to return, he would want to feel that he had parted on good terms with the woman who had befriended him. promptly at eight o'clock he presented himself. "i'm a laboring man now," he said, as he stood before her, "and i usually hold my cap in my hand and shuffle my feet when talking to ladies. pray excuse my embarrassment." she did not respond to the lightness of his tone. her glance seemed intended to warn him that she meant to be serious. "i suppose you are wondering why i sent for you," she remarked, after a perceptible interval, and kirk felt instantly that their old relations could not at once be resumed. "i have discovered something very important, and i felt that you ought to know." "thank you," said kirk, humbly. "it was very kind." "you see," she went on, with a certain hesitancy, "you confided your story to me so frankly i felt under a certain obligation." she made a little dramatic pause. "i've discovered who jefferson locke is!" "no! who is he?" kirk was instantly all attention, for the announcement came as something of a shock. he had almost forgotten locke. "his real name is frank wellar, and he is an absconder. he was a broker's clerk in st. louis, and he made off with something like eighty thousand dollars in cash." "good heavens!" said anthony. "how did you find out?" "a bundle of new york papers--they came to-day." "where did they catch him?" "they haven't caught him. he has disappeared completely--that's the strangest part of it. your detective didn't die, after all." "he recovered, did he? i'm mighty glad of that." "yes, but you aren't out of the woods yet. i can't understand why the police haven't discovered your whereabouts. you left new york openly under the name of locke--" "perhaps it was so easy they overlooked it." he smiled ruefully. "i'd hate to be arrested just now when i'm getting to be such a good conductor." "don't worry about that until the time comes. i'll get you the papers later." she showed no immediate intention of rising, however, but sat regarding her visitor with slightly heightened color. he began to feel embarrassed. it seemed to be his fate to receive benefits at this woman's hand, whether he willed it or not. he got to his feet with an effort, and said, looking down upon her: "i must go now; but first i want to make you feel how grateful i am for your kindness and for your continued trust in me. i haven't deserved it, i know, but--" he turned as if to leave, but faced her again as he heard her pronounce his name. he was surprised to see that there were tears in her eyes. "kirk," she said, "you're an awfully good sort, and i can't stay angry with you. do you know you've made it rather hard for me staying away all this time?" "i thought you never wanted to see me again." "you shouldn't take so seriously what a woman says under such circumstances. it's embarrassing. it makes things seem worse than they are." she hesitated, as if to emphasize the difficulty of such candor. kirk said, gently: "does that mean that we can forget all about it and be good friends again? does it mean that you'll forgive me?" "i can't quite promise that," she answered. "but there is no need of your avoiding me; and it's absurd for you to feel as you do, that you can't accept any little services from me that might help you in your work. i'm still interested in your success." "you're tremendously good," he answered, really touched. "i can't say anything, except that i'll try to be worthy of your kindness." she gave him a half-distressed look, then smiled brightly. "we won't talk of it any more," she said--"ever. now do sit down and tell me what you have been doing all this time. how have you been getting along with your work?" "all right, except one morning when i overslept." "overslept? oh, kirk!" she said, reproachfully. "you see, i never got up so early before, except to go duck-hunting, and this is different. did you ever try rising at five-thirty--in the morning, i mean? you've no idea how it feels. why, it's hardly light! you can't see to brush your teeth! i suggested to runnels that we send no. out at eight-thirty instead of six-thirty--that's early enough for anybody--but he didn't seem to take kindly to the thought." "what did he say when you reported?" "i didn't consider it proper to listen to all he said, so i retired gracefully. from what i did hear, however, i gathered that he was vaguely offended at something. i tried to explain that i had been out late, but it didn't go." edith laughed. "perhaps i'd better telephone him." "oh no, you needn't do that." "but surely you were called in time?" "please don't. that's the first thing runnels yodelled at me when i showed up. he's a nice fellow, but he's too serious; he lets little things bother him. he'll cool off eventually." time passed quickly in such an interchange of pleasant trivialities, and, although kirk felt that he was making an unconscionably long call, he could not well leave while his hostess seemed bent on detaining him. it was late when he said good-night, and, after returning to his quarters, with characteristic perversity he proceeded to sit up, smoking cigarette after cigarette, while he tried to set his thoughts in order. he was grateful to mrs. cortlandt, and immensely pleased to learn that the man injured in the affair in new york had not died. but something must be done about chiquita. that was the important thing now. he wrestled with the problem for a long time in vain. he was afraid to go to bed for fear of oversleeping again, and decided to stay up until train-time. but at length drowsiness overcame him, and for the few remaining hours he dreamed lonesomely of an oval face and big, black, velvet eyes. he did not really miss his rest until the next afternoon, when the heat and the monotonous rumble of the train, together with its restful swaying, sent him off into a delicious doze, from which he was awakened by a brakeman barely in time to escape discovery. thereafter he maintained more regular habits, and while no one but the luxury-loving youth himself knew what effort it required to cut short his slumbers in their sweetest part, he never missed his train, and in time the early hours ceased to be a hardship. in the days that followed he tried his very best to make good. every evening he had to himself he spent in search of the spanish girl. aside from his inability to find her, and an occasional moment of misgiving at the thought of frank wellar, alias jefferson locke, kirk had but one worry, and that was caused by allan. never a day passed that the worshipful black boy did not fairly hound him with his attentions; never a nightly journey down into the city that allan did not either accompany him or, failing permission to do so, follow him at a safe distance. for a time anthony rebelled at this espionage, but the constant effort of refusal grew tiresome after a while, especially as the jamaican did just as he pleased anyhow, and kirk ended by letting him have his way. but this was not all. allan insisted upon accompanying his friend upon his daily runs back and forth across the isthmus. at first he succeeded in slipping past the gateman in some miraculous manner, and, once aboard the train, behaved as if free from all further responsibility. he made it plain, in fact, that he was anthony's guest and boon companion, and considered the exchange of money quite unnecessary, if not even insulting. day after day kirk argued with him, even threatening to throw him off; but allan ignored the arguments with bland good-nature and looked upon the threats as the display of an excruciating sense of humor. he continued to visit and to gossip on terms of the closest intimacy, and began, moreover, to exercise a certain proprietary right over kirk, following him through the train to see that no harm befell him, and seizing the slightest opportunity to engage him in conversation. anthony explained time after time that there were probably spotters on the run, and that this conduct was sure, sooner or later, to get them both into trouble. to all of which allan listened attentively and agreed with all earnestness. but the next morning invariably found him back again with some excuse. "i can't h'explain it, chief," he acknowledged, on one occasion. "every day swear i to cease, but it is of no h'avail. ever you been in love with a female, sar?" "what has that to do with it?" "it is much the same. i can't h'allow you to leave me. i would die and kill myself, but--" "rats!" "yes, sar. it is very h'annoying, is it not?" "do you want me to lose my job?" "oh, mon!" "i'm going to speak to the boss, if you don't let up. i don't want to get fired." "never mind you, for these h'engagements. i will work for you." becoming really concerned lest he should be accused of withholding fares, kirk did speak to runnels, explaining fully, whereupon a watch was set, with the result that on the very next morning allan was chased out of the railroad yards by an unfeeling man with a club. failing for a second time to evade the watchful eyes of the gateman, he ranged back and forth beyond the iron fence like a captive animal, raising his voice to heaven in weird complaint. he was waiting when the train pulled in that evening, glued to the iron bars, his eyes showing as white in the gloom as his expansive grin of welcome. for several days this procedure was repeated with variations, until the dreadful threat of arrest put an end to it. allan had conceived a wholesome respect for spiggoty police, and for a few days thereafter kirk was rid of him. then one morning he reappeared as usual in one of the forward coaches. "how the deuce did you make it?" asked anthony. allan proudly, triumphantly, displayed a ticket, exclaiming: "it is of no h'avail to prevent me, boss!" "that ticket is good only to corozal, the first station. you'll have to get off there." but when corozal had been passed he found allan still comfortably ensconced in his seat. "now, boss, we shall have fine visits to-day," the negro predicted, warmly, and kirk did not have the heart to eject him. at the other end of the line allan repeated the process, and thereafter worked diligently to amass sufficient money to buy tickets from panama to corozal and from colon to mt. hope, relying with splendid faith upon his friend to protect him once he penetrated past the lynx-eyed gateman. runnels accepted kirk's explanation, and so far exceeded his authority as to make no objection. allan, therefore, managed to spend about half his time in company with the object of his adoration. although the master of transportation never referred to his conversation with kirk on the occasion of their trip through culebra cut, he watched his new subordinate carefully and he felt his instinctive liking for him increase. the young fellow was in earnest, he decided, in his effort to succeed on his own merits, and had not been posing when he offered to start at the bottom. it gave runnels pleasure to see how he attended to his work, once he had settled down to it. accordingly, it afforded him an unpleasant surprise when he received a printed letter from a st. louis detective agency relative to one frank wellar, alias jefferson locke (last seen in new york city november th), and offering a substantial reward for information leading to his arrest. the communication reached runnels through the usual channel, copies having been distributed to the heads of various departments. it was the description that caught his attention: "white; age, twenty-eight years; occupation, clerk; eyes, bluish gray; hair, light, shading upon yellow; complexion, fair; height, six feet; weight, one hundred ninety pounds. no prominent scars or marks, so far as known, but very particular as to personal appearance, and considered a good athlete, having been captain of u. of k. football team." there was but one man in runnels' department whose appearance tallied with all this, and it gave the master of transportation a start to note how very complete was the identification. nevertheless, he held the letter on his desk, and did nothing for a time except to question his new collector upon the first occasion. the result was not at all reassuring. a few days later, chancing to encounter john weeks, on his way across the isthmus, he recalled kirk's mention of his first experience at colon. by way of an experiment he led on the consul to speak of his former guest. "anthony? oh yes," wheezed the fat man. "i see you've got him at work." "you and he are friends, i believe. i thought you'd be interested to know he's getting on well. in fact, he's the best collector i have." "we're hardly friends," said the consul, cautiously. "i suppose he's all right--must be or cortlandt wouldn't have taken him up; but there's something about him i don't understand. either he's on the level, or he's got the nerve of a burglar." "how so?" "well, i know he isn't what he claims to be--i have proof. he's no more darwin k. anthony's son than--" "darwin k. anthony!" exclaimed the railroad man, in amazement. "did he claim that?" "he did, and he--" the speaker checked himself with admirable diplomatic caution. "say, he's taught me one thing, and that is that it doesn't pay to butt into other people's business. i played him to lose, and he won; and i got into a fine mess over it." weeks wrinkled his face into a ludicrous expression of mournful disgust. "i couldn't pick a winner if there were two horses in the race and one of them had a broken leg. whether his name is anthony or locke makes no difference to me. i got in 'dutch' for meddling, and alfarez lost his job for arresting him. it's only a damn fool who gets stung twice in the same spot. i'm through." "you'll get your money. anthony told me he'd square up on pay-day." weeks snorted at this. "why, i've got it already. i've been paid. mrs. cortlandt sent me her check." he stared at his companion curiously. "funny, isn't it, how i got called down and ramen alfarez got fired on his account? what does it mean?" he winked one red eye in a manner that set runnels to thinking deeply. xvi " " for a few days after this conversation the master of transportation was in doubt as to what course he should pursue. in the end he did nothing, and the letter from st. louis was permanently filed away. there were several reasons for this action. for one thing, he was a salaried man, and could not afford to lose his job. what influenced him most, however, was his genuine liking for anthony. he could not bring himself to attach much weight to the suspicious circumstances connected with him. being a man of sufficient courage to back his own judgment, he decided that no matter what might have been the past of frank wellar, alias jefferson locke, kirk anthony was entitled to another chance. the first thing kirk did when pay-day came was to enclose the greater part of his salary in an envelope and send it to john weeks, with a note explaining that he had withheld only enough for his own actual needs, and promising to continue reducing his indebtedness by a like amount monthly. he was surprised beyond measure to have the remittance promptly returned. the brief letter that accompanied it brought him a flush of discomfort. what the deuce had made mrs. cortlandt do that? for a time he was undecided whether to be offended at her conduct or gratified, and he had not settled the matter to his satisfaction when he called upon her that evening. "weeks wrote me you had squared my account with him," he said, awkwardly. "i'm tremendously obliged, of course, and--i'll give this to you instead of him." he offered her the envelope with his pay enclosed. "don't be silly, kirk," she said, in a matter-of-fact tone. "i didn't wish weeks to have any opportunity to talk. you need this money and i don't." "perhaps i should have offered it to mr. cortlandt." "stephen knows nothing about the weeks affair. if you choose to regard my little favor as a debt, however, please let it run on until you are better able to pay." but anthony remained inflexible, and at last she accepted his proffer with some impatience. "you are the most foolish person i ever knew," she remarked. "can't you understand that such obligations don't exist between friends? a few dollars mean nothing." "a few dollars mean a good deal to me just now." "you have the most disappointing way of receiving favors. i had a decent position for you, but you would go to collecting fares. i hope you have had enough of it by now, and are ready to take something worth while." "not until it comes naturally. no hop-skip-and-jump for mine." edith sighed. "it is terribly dull for me here at present," she said. "mr. cortlandt is very busy; i have no one to talk to; no one to amuse me. why, i've scarcely seen you since you went to work." "it is flattering to be missed." "will you come to the dance to-morrow night?" he shook his head. "the music is good; you will meet some nice people. if you remember, one of your qualifications for a position was that you are a good waltzer." "i can't mingle with the 'quality.'" "be sensible. this is an invitation." "i am getting sensible fast. i've learned something about canal conditions. what would people say if mrs. stephen cortlandt were seen dancing with the new collector of no. ?" "my dear boy, do you suppose mrs. stephen cortlandt cares what these people say?" "mr. stephen cortlandt might." "mr. stephen cortlandt isn't snobbish, either." "one has to be on the canal zone. besides, to tell the sordid truth, i haven't any clothes." edith silently extended the envelope in her hand; but he laughed. "perhaps i'll come to the next dance. i'll be rich then. see!" he showed her a long slip of paper consisting of five coupons, each numbered " ." "lottery tickets!" he nodded. "allan had a very particular dream about the number eight, so i invested five dollars 'silver' on his hunch. you know he has the most wonderful dreams. there was one about a whale--it was appallingly vivid." "but you don't bet on all these miraculous whales and things?" "oh no. the whale was a little too much for me. but i thought i'd take a chance on the number eight, it didn't seem quite so apocryphal." "but why did you select such a ridiculous combination? it isn't likely that the eight will come out three times in four." "it's the number of my automobile license." kirk sighed at the memory of his new french car. "you don't object to such gambling?" "hardly," laughed edith, "when i have a ticket for the same drawing. every one does it, you know." "if i win the capital prize i'll come to the next party and claim all the dances you will allow me." "not much encouragement in that for a lonely lady." "oh, i'm the luckiest chap in the world. the drawing comes off next sunday, and it happens that i've been shifted to no. for a few trips, so i'll have a chance to see the fun." "if you were a little less quixotic and weren't so remarkably afraid of getting more than your deserts, you could come to all these dances." "i'm sorry," he acknowledged, "but i have to do things in my own way." it was a welcome change for him to sleep as late as he wished on sunday morning, and he enjoyed the privilege to the full. inasmuch as no. did not leave until one o'clock, he had ample time in which to witness the lottery drawing, a thing he had been curious to see since he had first heard of it. this form of gambling was well recognized, it seemed; not only the natives, but all classes of canal zone workers, engaged in it freely. on every street corner women sold tickets day after day, and, as the drawings were conducted under rigid government supervision, the lottery had come to be regarded as a sort of public institution, quite as reputable as an ordinary church raffle. allan, vastly excited, was of course waiting to accompany him, and, when kirk had finished a leisurely breakfast, the two strolled idly down into the city. "oh, boss," exclaimed the negro, "i feel that we shall h'experience good-fartune to-day." "did you buy a ticket?" "no, sar, i reinvested all my monies travelling on those railroad trains." "now see how foolish you are. if you'd stayed at home you might have bought the winning number to-day." "i prefer to h'accompany you. but--i have been thinking to make you a proposition of partnership. master h'auntony. i will stay home and dream numbers which you can purchase with your salary. in that manner we shall certainly burst this lottery." "oh, i see! you'll sleep while i rustle the coin to play. what's your idea of a fair division of the profits?" "it is sometimes exceedingly fatiguing to dream," said allan, defensively. "sometimes one wastes an entire day and has no success." "that's merely a question of diet. i could make you dream your head off." "but i do not desire the profits, however, for being partners with you. i would like you to have plenty of monies, that is all. i love you, sar." "don't! you embarrass me." "it is true, chief, i would die and--" "yes, yes, kill yourself." "i pray to god h'every day that some bad man will h'assault you in order that i may die for you." the jamaican was growing excited, as usual when he dwelt upon this subject. "i would h'enjoy to shed my blood for you, sar. i would like to see it running--running--running--" he waved his arms wildly. "don't bleed to death." "i wish to suffer and scream and groan, so that you will be knowing--" "never mind. i think i get the idea. but i'm not going to allow it, and i'm not going to allow you to dream--you sleep too much as it is. besides, your dreams are no good. look at that whale dream of yours, for instance." "oh, sar, the 'fish' number did not win, to be sure, but 'water' did." "but you didn't dream about water, it was about fish, 'vivid' fish." "i did not chance to think of the water," acknowledged allan, "but there was the whale lying upon the h'edge of the h'ocean, h'all the time." the drawing, which was for a capital prize of fifteen thousand dollars "silver," had drawn a larger crowd than usual, and when the two reached cathedral square they found the lottery building thronged to overflowing with the usual polyglot elements that make up these latin-american gatherings--negroes, indians, panamanians, spaniards, americans--while in the plaza itself other groups were waiting to hear the report. by dint of considerable effort kirk succeeded in working his way through the wide double doors, and, being much above the average height, he was able to get a good view of the proceedings. upon a platform a group of ceremonious officials were gathered about a revolving wire cage, so arranged that it could be whirled rapidly upon its axis. into it were put ten ivory spheres, resembling billiard-balls in size and appearance. when this had been done, the cage was closed, and a very badly frightened twelve-year-old girl was selected at random from the audience, then lifted to the stage, where it required the commands and entreaties of her excited parents to prevent her from dissolving in tears. at a word from the master of ceremonies the cage was spun until the ivory balls inside leaped and capered like captive squirrels. then at another signal it was stopped. the door was opened and the little girl reached in a trembling hand and selected a sphere. it proved to be hollow, with two halves screwed together, and in full sight of the assembly it was opened, displaying a bit of paper inside. "ocho!" cried the announcer, and a card bearing the numeral " " was raised. the paper was replaced inside the ivory ball, the ball itself was dropped into the wire cage, the door was closed, and once more the cage was spun. kirk was much interested in the scene, not from any faintest hope that he would draw a prize, but purely from the novel atmosphere and color of the thing. while his eyes were busiest, and just as the child prepared to draw another ball, he felt a clutch upon his arm, and, glancing down, beheld the glowing black eyes of senor ramon alfarez fixed upon him. alfarez was dressed immaculately, this time in civilian's white linen, his ferocious little mustachios carefully pointed, his cheeks freshly shaven and talcumed, his slender feet encased in white canvas shoes. a wonderful guayaquil hat, the creamy straws of which were no thicker than silk threads, crowned his sleek, raven locks. it must have cost a small fortune. he carried a dapper little cane, with which he tapped his former prisoner to attract his attention. at sight of him kirk drew down his brows and said, gruffly: "don't poke me with that umbrella." he turned away, but again alfarez touched him with the rattan. "i will spik' wit' you, hombre," he said. "if you keep jabbing me with that crutch i'll break it, and then you can't walk home." ramen jerked his head toward the square outside in an imperious fashion, and kirk, curious to learn the cause of this unusual excitement, followed him without demur. when they had reached the street the spaniard turned with flashing eyes and a mirthless smile. "well!" he said, dramatically. "pretty well. how goes it with you?" "so! you 'ave socceed in your cowardly attemp'." "my what?" "i am lose my poseetion as commandante of police." "you don't say so!" kirk's face broke into a smile of real pleasure. "ha! makes it you to laugh, then?" exclaimed the panamanian, excitedly. "per'aps you shall answer to those detestable actions, senor." "perhaps! i see you blame me for the loss of your job. well, maybe you won't beat up the next american you get your hands on." "bot--i 'ave another poseetion!" ramen exulted. "indeed! are you 'behind the ribbons' at the local wanamaker's?" "i 'ave been promote! i am appoint' yesterday by his excellency the presidente to be his secretary. so! those dastardly attack of yours is transpire to my blessing. it will be always so." "i suppose it's a good job, but you ought to be selling poison in a drug-store. did you call me out to hear this news?" "si!" alfarez nodded his head vigorously. then, narrowing his eyes, he said, meaningly, in a voice that none might overhear, "panama is sometimes very on'ealthy city for fat americans." he ran a hostile glance up and down anthony's burly frame. "it is the climate per'aps--of too great 'eat." "in other words, you intend to make it hot for me, eh?" "i?" the ex-commandant shrugged his shoulders in eloquent denial. "i shall do not'ing, bot--if you are wise man you will not display yourself to the dangers of these climate; you will return 'ome." "say! i've a good notion to punch your head." alfarez paled slightly. "soch would be most dangerous, for in chiriqui prison there is at the present some fatal disease." he laughed sneeringly. "the senor is reech man's son, eh? those do not geeve the appearance." with supreme insolence he touched one of the buttons upon kirk's linen uniform with his cane, whereat the american snatched the stick out of his hand, broke it, and tossed it into the street. his blood was up, and in another breath he would have struck the spaniard, regardless of consequences, but just at that moment allan, dashed out of the crowd crying, breathlessly: "oh, boss! oh, boss! glory to god, it is true! oh-h-h glory!" seizing kirk's hands, he kissed them before the other could prevent, then ran on frantically: "come quick! come! come! come!" "look out!" snapped kirk, angrily. "what's happened?" "the dream! the dream is come! oh, god, sar! you--you have won the capital prize, sar!" alfarez's exclamation, as much as the boy's wild hysteria, brought anthony to himself. "no! honest, now! what's the number?" he exclaimed. "h'eight, h'eight, three, h'eight," sobbed the jamaican. kirk made a dive for his coat-pocket, while allan continued in a rising voice: "glory to god, sar! glory to god! it is fifteen thousand dollars 'silver.' i thought i should h'expire from fright. oh, i--quick! praise be--do not say you have lost the ticket or i shall die and kill myself--" "here it is!" in his hand anthony waved a slip of paper, out of which leaped four big, red numbers-" ." "carraho!" came from behind him, and he turned to behold alfarez, livid of face and with shaking hand, fling a handful of similar coupons after the broken cane. without another word or a glance behind him, the panamanian made off across the plaza, barely in time to, escape the crowd that surged around the two he had quitted. bombarded by a fusillade of questions in a dozen tongues, jostled by a clamoring, curious throng, the lucky owner of fought his way back into the lottery building, and, as he went, the news spread like flaming oil. there it was, plainly displayed, " "! there could be no possible mistake, and it meant fifteen thousand silver pesos, a princely fortune indeed for the collector of no. . promptly at five minutes to one o'clock that afternoon, allan allan, late of jamaica, strode through the panama railroad station and flaunted a first-class, round-trip ticket to colon before the eyes of his enemy, the gateman. he was smoking a huge jamaican cigar, and his pockets bulged with others. when he came to board the train, he called loudly for a porter to bring him the step and, once inside, selected a shady seat with the languid air of a bored globe-trotter. he patronized the "butcher" lavishly, crushing handful after handful of lemon-drops noisily between his teeth and strewing orange peel and cigar ashes on the floor with the careless unconcern that accords with firmly established financial eminence. he spat out of the window, he waved a dignified greeting to his countrymen gathered upon station platforms, he halted hurrying brakemen to inquire times of arrival and departure, and in general he had the time of his young life. only when kirk appeared upon his rounds did he forego his haughty complacency. then his wide lips, which nature had shaped to a perpetual grin, curled back as they were intended, his smile lit up the car, and he burst into loud laughter. "enjoying yourself?" inquired his hero. "passably, sar, passably!" then, with a painful assumption of seriousness: "how is the train, sar, may i ahsk?" "on time." "rarely it is so, as a general thing. it is fartunate h'indeed that you consented to run her this time." "in a hurry to get to colon?" "quite so. it is h'impartant that i h'arrive promptly to-day. i have business h'affairs." his countenance assumed tortured lines as he endeavored to maintain his gravity, then failing in his attempt, he burst suddenly into a gale of merriment that sent forth a shower of peanuts and lemon candy. "praise god, boss, we are 'appy gentlemen to-day, are we not?" kirk found that the report of his good-fortune had spread far and wide; he was halted a score of times for congratulations; operators at the various stations yelled at him and waved their hands; runnels wired "hurrah!" at gatun. a certain respect was in these greetings, too, for he had suddenly become a character. as yet, however, he had not fully considered what this windfall meant to him. his first thought had been that he could now discharge his debts, go back to new york, and clear himself before the law. yet the more he thought of it the less eager he became to return. seven thousand five hundred dollars in gold to kirk anthony, of panama, collector, was a substantial fortune. to kirk anthony, of albany, distributor, it was nothing. suppose he went home and squared his account with the police, what would he do then? nothing, as usual. here, he was proving that the anthony breed was self-supporting, at least. and there was another reason, the weightiest of all. long before he had reached the end of his run he realized that not one hundred times the amount of this capital prize would tempt him to leave panama before he had seen chiquita. chiquita was beginning to seem like a dream. at times during the past week he had begun to wonder if she were not really a product of his own imagination. his fancy had played upon her so extravagantly that he feared he would not know her if ever they came face to face. his mental picture of her had lost all distinctness; her face was no longer clear-cut before his mind's eye, but so blurred and hazy that even to himself he could not describe her with any accuracy. this was most unsatisfactory, and he reproached himself bitterly for the involuntary faithlessness that could allow her image to grow dim. he was almost without hope of seeing her again. and then, with the inconsequence of dreams and sprites, she appeared to him. it was but a glimpse he had, and a tantalizing flash of recognition from her eyes. it happened in the dusk during the confusion that accompanied the arrival of no. at panama, and it came with a suddenness that stunned him. the station was jammed with a roaring flood of negroes, another crowd was forcing its way through the exits in the high iron fence, the street was a crush of spiggoty coaches. kirk had volunteered to assist an old lady, and his arms were full of bundles as he guided her between the clicking teeth of a turnstile. he was helping her into a carriage when he heard the sharp clatter of hoofs upon the brick pavement, and looked up to see a fine peruvian mare hitched to a tan-colored surrey skirting the confusion. a black coachman was driving, and there were several people in the carriage. kirk cast it a casual glance, and just as he looked it swept into the glare of an electric light. out from the back seat shone a perfect oval face, with soft, luminous eyes. it was just as he had pictured it, only more beautiful. kirk nearly upset his little old lady, who was struggling into her equipage. he swept his armful of bundles into the coach, seized his scandalized companion under the arms, and deposited her bodily upon a seat. without waiting to hear from her, he dashed away through the bedlam. under horses' heads he went, past flying hoofs and scraping wheels, jostling pedestrians, and little, brown policemen, until he had reached the outskirts of the crowd, where he vaulted into a vacant vehicle and called upon the driver to whip up. "quick! quick! follow that tan-colored surrey! i'll give you a dollar gold not to lose sight of it." with the blandest of smiles the coachman started his horses, then, turning, he inquired, politely: "'otel tivoli?" "no, no! follow that carriage!" "no sabe ingles!" said the coachman. before kirk had succeeded in making him understand, the street had become jammed with carriages and the peruvian mare was lost to sight. after a half-hour of futile clattering back and forth, kirk dismissed the driver. but there was no doubt that she had recognized him, and nothing now could prevent him from continuing his search. the trouble was that his present occupation allowed him no opportunity. he was tied to the railroad except at night. it was perhaps two weeks later that a serious shake-up occurred in the office force, of which no one seemed to know the cause. there was a mad scramble for advancement all along the line, in which kirk took no part. but unexpectedly runnels summoned him to his office. "how would you like an inside position?" said the master of transportation, eying him keenly. "so soon?" "i said i'd advance you if you made good." he paused an instant, then said, deliberately, "when you get the hang of things here you'll have a chance to be my assistant." kirk opened his eyes in amazement. "gee! that's great! but do you think i can get away with it?" "not at once. it will take time, of course, and you'll have to work like the devil." runnels regarded him curiously, recalling the letter so carefully filed away. then he yielded to his natural impulse. "look here, anthony," he said, "i'm partly selfish in this, for i believe you're the sort i'm going to want within the next year. the superintendent has had an offer from a big system in the states, and he's going to quit when his vacation comes. he likes me, and he says i'll probably step into his shoes. do you understand what that means? i'll need fellows i can count on--fellows who won't double-cross me to make a dollar for themselves, or knife me when my back is turned. i've got to have an efficient, noiseless organization. otherwise we'll all go under, for we'll be into politics up to our necks. i think you're my sort, so if you'll stick to me i'll help you, and for every step i take i'll drag you up one." "it's a go!" the two young men clasped hands heartily. runnels had struck the right note. beside his former desire to prove himself a man, kirk now felt a strong sense of loyalty to the one who had recognized his worth. this was no mere matter of promotion. he and runnels would work shoulder to shoulder. a sense of responsibility descended upon him. for the first time he thoroughly understood the spirit of the ardent toilers who were giving their best to the big job. he was really one of them now, and the thought electrified him. when he told his good news to mrs. cortlandt, her surprise was so cleverly simulated that he never dreamed that she had been at great pains to bring this thing about. not that runnels was indisposed to act upon his own initiative, but the circumstances that had made his action possible had been due to her. it was hard to help a man against his will; but she profited by experience, and took the line of least resistance. the young man himself did not inquire too closely into the occasion of his advancement, and edith cortlandt was but little in his mind. he was consumed with the thought of chiquita. he hoped that his new work would allow him more control of his time, and perhaps put him in the way of learning her name. he could move in better society now. meanwhile he laid other plans. he took allan into his confidence, and told him frankly that he was in love with a woman he did not know. of course his faithful follower was delighted, and made extravagant promises of aid. "now that the dry season has come," said kirk, "people must be living at the savannas, and i want you to haunt the region round that swimming-pool until you discover who she is. you must be my detective." "oh, boss, i would--" "don't tell me you'd die and kill yourself for me. i want you to live and find this girl for me. i'll take you out to-day, after office hours, and show you the place; then you'll have to do the rest. you talk spanish, you know. but, above all, don't tip off." "tip h'off? what shall i be climbing, sar?" "i mean you mustn't tell a soul." "never fear, boss. h'allan will discover your female." "and don't call her a 'female,' it sounds indecent. remember, she has a bajan with her, six feet tall, named stephanie. who knows? maybe you can win stephanie for yourself." kirk chuckled at the thought. "no, sar, if you please. those bajan 'oomen is all very disagreeable." "you understand, i can't quit work to go looking for the girl, because i've simply got to tend to business. but i'll spend sunday out there if you haven't already discovered her. now, i'll chant this all over again on the way out, so you won't forget anything." xvii garavel the banker these were busy days for the cortlandts. they entertained constantly, and the occasions when they dined without from one to a dozen guests became so exceptional as to elicit remark around the hotel. most of their efforts were devoted to certain panamanians of the influential class, and in company with one or more of these cortlandt made frequent trips to the various quarters of the republic, sometimes absenting himself for days at a time. during these intervals his wife assumed the direction of affairs, and continued to entertain or be entertained. her energy and resource seemed inexhaustible. the officials of both governments treated her with punctilious respect, and the prestige gained in this way she used to enhance her reputation as a hostess. soon she became the social dictator of the city, and the most exclusive circles, american and panamanian alike, allowed her to assume control. the result was just what had been designed. tourists and visiting newspaper people spoke glowingly of the amity between the two nations, and wondered at the absence of that spanish prejudice of which they had heard so much. those who chanced to know the deeper significance of it all, and were aware of the smouldering resentment that lay in the latin mind, commented admiringly upon her work, and wondered what effect it would have upon the coming election. already this event had cast its shadow ahead, bringing memories of the last election with its disturbances and ragged uncertainty. that had been a pregnant epoch. armed guards, hidden behind american walls, had listened to the growing clamor and prepared to fire. american marines had been held in readiness to take such action as might have convulsed the other watchful world powers. since then the fuse had burned steadily, if slowly. as the time drew near, there were those who openly predicted trouble. others scoffed at the idea, although they claimed that this would be the last election ever held in panama. but all united in declaring that, whatever the work to which the cortlandts had been assigned, they were doing it well. no one but the woman herself and her husband really understood the tremendous difficulties of their task or the vital issues at stake. although they seemed to be making progress, they knew that they were dealing with a people not only excitable and egotistic, but steeped in guile, and distrustful by nature. the fire was close to the magazine. but this was edith cortlandt's chosen field, and she brought to bear a manlike power of cool calculation, together with a brilliant intuition of her own. never had her tact, her knowledge of human nature, her keen realization of political values been called into such play as now. so triumphantly did she exercise these qualities that all who came into contact with her recognized the master mind directing the campaign, and, consciously or unconsciously, relegated her husband to the background. to the latin intellect this display of power, on the part of a woman, was a revelation. she knew the effect she produced, and made the most of it. old anibal alfarez was, perhaps, the last fully to appreciate her. he did, however, learn in time that while he could successfully match his craft against that of the husband, the wife read him unerringly. the result was that he broke with them openly. when news of this reached the members of the canal commission, they were alarmed, and colonel jolson felt it necessary to make known their views upon the situation. accordingly, a few nights later, the cortlandts dined at his handsome residence on the heights above culebra. after their return to panama, the colonel, in whom was vested the supreme authority over his nation's interests, acknowledged that his acquaintance with diplomacy was as nothing compared with edith cortlandt's. it was to colonel bland, in charge of the atlantic division, that he confessed: "in all my life i never met a woman like her. cortlandt, as you know, is a clever fellow, and i flatter myself that i'm no mental invalid; but we were like children in her hands. he sided with me at first, but she talked us both around in spite of ourselves. i agree with her now, perfectly, and i am content to let her have free rein." "general alfarez is the strongest man in the republic," said colonel bland. "as governor of panama province, he's the logical next president. besides that, he has the machinery behind him. i don't see who there is to defeat him." "we argued the same thing. she thinks garavel is the proper man." "garavel is a banker; he's not a politician." the chief-engineer laughed. "all spanish-americans are politicians, colonel; they can't help it." "would he accept?" "it is her business to find out. i had my doubts." "but could he win? it would be a calamity if he had american backing and failed; it would mean a disaster." "cortlandt has been working carefully, and he has been in all the seven provinces. he admits that it might be done; and she is certain. you see, their part in the colombian affair makes them strong with the leaders, and they have already whipped the foreign influences into line. of course, it will mean a fight--alfarez won't give up easily--but, if garavel should be the next president, it would be a fine thing for both countries." the other commissioner shook his white head doubtfully. "i supposed it was all settled; cortlandt himself told me alfarez was a good man the last time i talked with him. my god, it seems to me we've got enough on our hands without being guardians for a two-by-four republic filled with maniacs. we've got to finish this job on time. i can't understand this change of sentiment." "oh, it isn't settled. there is ample time for anything to happen. when the psychological moment comes, cortlandt will be in position to swing his influence whichever way he thinks best." "well, it's a puzzling situation," colonel bland admitted. "and i wish it were over." then he branched off on the subject of a cargo of cement which had not been up to standard and might have to be rejected. over at panama the cortlandts were looking for a house to lease. affairs had reached a point where it seemed advisable to give up their quarters at the tivoli and enter into closer contact with the life of the spanish city. one reason for the move was the necessity for a greater privacy than the hotel afforded, for the time was not far distant when privacy might prove of paramount importance. meanwhile they gave a ceremonious little dinner, the one and only guest being andres garavel, the banker. of all the charming peoples of central america there are, perhaps, none more polished and well-bred than the upper-class panamanians. of this agreeable type, senor garavel was an admirable example, having sprung from the finest castilian stock, as a name running back through the pages of history to the earliest conquests attested. other garavels had played important parts in the troubled affairs of guatemala, and it was the banker's proud boast that one of his ancestors had assisted alvarado to christen the first capital of that country--the city of st. james the gentleman--in . the name had later figured prominently in antigua, that athens of the new world where the flower of spanish america gathered. a later forebear had fled southward at the time of the disturbances incidental to the revolt of the colonies, but in his departure there had been no disgrace, and since that time the garavels had worthily maintained the family traditions of dignity and honor. the present bearer of the name was of distinguished appearance. he was swarthy of skin, his hair was snow-white, and he had stern, black eyes of great intelligence. in size he was not above the medium, but his manner fully made up for any deficiency of stature. he was courtly and deliberate, evincing a pride that sprang not only from good blood but from good deeds. his poise was that of a man with heavy responsibilities, for andres garavel was a careful banker and a rich one. he was widely travelled, well-informed, an agreeable talker, and the conversation at mrs. cortlandt's table did not lag. "i am so disappointed that your daughter could not come," edith told him for the second time. "i'm afraid she objects to our american informality." "no, no, my dear lady," said their guest. "she admires american customs, as i do. we are progressive--we have travelled. in my home, in my private life, perhaps, i am panamanian, but in my business and in my contact with other peoples i am as they are. it is the same with my daughter." "when you latins really become cosmopolitan you are more so than we americans," cortlandt acknowledged. "we assume foreign airs and customs that please us and forget to retain our own, while you--well, with germans you are german, with englishmen you are english, and yet you never forget to be spaniards." the banker smiled. "my daughter has had a wide education for a child. she has travelled, she speaks five languages--and yet, underneath it all she is a garavel and hence a panamanian. she is all i have, and my life is hers." "when we are settled in our new house we hope to see something of you both." "you have effected a lease of the martinez home, i believe?" "yes. do you know it?" "as my own. you are indeed fortunate to secure so fine a place. i wish that in some way i might be of service to you." "the wish is mutual," cortlandt answered, meaningly, but senor garavel concealed any recognition of the tone by a formal bow, and the meal progressed with only the customary small talk to enliven it. as soon as the three had adjourned to the cortlandt's suite the host of the evening proceeded to approach the subject in his mind as directly as the circumstances permitted. through a series of natural transitions the conversation was brought around to politics, and garavel was adroitly sounded. but he displayed little interest, maintaining a reserve that baffled them. it was impossible to betray him into an expression of feeling favorable to their views. when at last he consented to show his awareness of the suggestion so constantly held out, he spoke with deliberate intention. "general alfarez is my respected friend," he said, with a quietness that intensified his meaning, "and i rejoice that he will be the next president of panama." "you, of course, know that there is opposition to him?" "all panama knows that." "general alfarez does not seem to be a friend of the united states." "there are few who hold the views i do. he is a man of strong character, he has no commercial interests to influence him as i have, and so we differ. yet i respect him--" "it is precisely because of those views of yours that i wish to consult you," said cortlandt, slowly. "in all the republic there is no one so progressive as you. may i speak frankly?" garavel inclined his white head without removing his intense, dark eyes from the speaker. "don anibal alfarez can never be president of panama!" the banker made no visible movement, yet the effect of this positive declaration was almost like that of a blow. after a pause he said: "may i tell him you said so?" "if you wish, but i do not think you will." the hearer let his eyes flit questioningly to mrs. cortlandt's face to find her smiling at him. "believe me, dear lady," he said, "i suspected that there were grave reasons for this interview, but as yet i am at sea. i am not a politician, you know. i shall have no voice in our political affairs." "of course we know that, senor garavel, and of course there are grave reasons why we wished to talk with you. as stephen has said, general alfarez cannot be president--" "madame," he said, coldly, "panama is a republic. the voice of the people is supreme." "down in your heart do you really think so?" she was still smiling at him. "no! the united states is supreme." "ah! that day will come, perhaps--i have said so; i look forward to it as the best solution, but--" "the day has come." "even so, alfarez is an honorable man, a strong man, and the wealthiest man in our country. he is a politician--" "but he is not a friend of our country." "i am not so sure." garavel frowned at his cigar for a moment, while the room became silent. "what has this to do with me, madame?" he asked, at last. "can't you guess?" the intensity of her look caused him to rise hurriedly and cast a quick glance from one to the other. "you are also a rich man, a man of ability," said cortlandt, quick to seize the momentary advantage. "your name is second to none in all central america. the next president must possess intelligence, honor, ability; he must be a friend of our people. there is no one better--" "impossible!" exclaimed the banker, in a strange voice. "_i_? no, no!" "and why not? have you never had political aspirations?" "of course. all men have dreams. i was secretary of finance under amador, but the garavels have never really been public men. politics have been a curse to our house. my grandfather--" "i know," broke in mrs. cortlandt. "but times have changed. panama has seen her last revolution, and she needs a business man at her head. presidents are not made now by rifle and sword, and the man with the machete must give way to the man with a capacity for handling big affairs. there will be no more swineherd presidents like your guatemalan countryman corera, nor tyrants like zelaya. panama is a healthy country, with no national debt; she is growing, developing. she holds the gateway to the western world, and her finances must be administered wisely. you, mr. garavel, are one of the few who are clear-headed enough to see that her destiny is linked with ours, and there is no one who can direct her so well as you." "it is impossible!" repeated garavel, his agitation growing more pronounced. "general alfarez is my friend. his son will be my son." "ramon! is ramon engaged to your daughter?" "yes," exclaimed the banker, shortly. he began to pace the room. "what difference would that make, if the young people love each other?" "certainly," cortlandt agreed. "they are not children." "as for love, ramon loves, and--my daughter will love also, once she is married, for she is a garavel." "if ramon isn't satisfactory to her, ought you to force her inclination?" mrs. cortlandt offered, eagerly. but the banker flung his arms aloft in a gesture of half-humorous despair. "oh-h! these young ladies!" he cried. "they do not know what they want. what pleases to-day, displeases to-morrow. it is 'yes' and 'no,' 'yes' and 'no,' until one must decide for them. that, after all, is best." he paused abruptly. "this comes upon me like a flood, my friends. i am swept away, and yet i--i will need to think seriously." "certainly." "to an honorable man the salary will mean nothing. i have many affairs; i fear i cannot afford this sacrifice." "would you retire in favor of some one who could afford it?" "alfarez is honest." "alfarez cannot be president." "it would require a great deal of money. i am considered a rich man, but i have discounted the future, and my enterprises--" he flung out his arms. "i have spread out. i must be careful. it is not alone my money that i have invested." "it will require very little money," said cortlandt. "i have been from david to darien, from bocas to colon and i know the public sentiment." "speaking of david," his wife added; "it was you who first projected the railroad to that point, senor garavel." "yes, i saw that it was needed. it would make panama," he said, simply. "under your administration it can be built. mr. cortlandt can assure you of our government's earnest co-operation. that would not be the case if general alfarez were elected. perhaps the colombian boundary can be settled. there also our influence might avail. those two steps forward would make the name of garavel as famous in panama as it is in guatemala." "those are important issues for any loyal panamanian," he admitted. "and you love your daughter--you say your life is, hers. your honor would be hers also. senorita garavel would have no cause to regret her father's presidency." "oh, it is useless to argue," smiled the spaniard. "i am weak. i am human. i am also patriotic, and i realize that our little country must look to your great one for its stimulus. our life must be moulded after yours. for years i have dreamed of a railroad to david, which would some day form a link in the great system that will join the three americas. i have pictured our inland jungles replaced with homes; a great traffic flowing from end to end of the republic. but i have also seen that our people would not profit by it. the languor of the tropics is in their blood, and you yankees would be needed to inspire them." his voice shook with emotion as he went on: "they are good, simple people, no more than children, and i love them. a gracious providence gave us the key to the world's commerce, but we could not use it. it needs all our wisdom now to adapt ourselves to the conditions that have arisen. 'andres garavel, president of the republic of panama!' it has a sweet sound, my friends, and yet--i have fears." "let's take them one by one," laughed his host, "and prove them imaginary. i see a great good-fortune in store for you." it was midnight before senor andres garavel, the banker, bade his friends good-bye. when he descended the hotel steps to his carriage, he held his white head proudly erect, and there was new dignity in his bearing. as he was whirled homeward behind his spirited peruvian mare, a wonderful song was singing in his heart. xviii the siege of maria torres the faithful allan was not long in fulfilling his mission. such devotion as his, it seemed, could hardly fail, and, if there had been a hundred chiquitas, doubtless he would have corralled them all. he conveyed the impression that, if it had been necessary to journey beyond the grave and bring back the ghost of some dead-and-gone chiquita, he would have gloriously succeeded. one morning, a few days later, he appeared to kirk, bursting with importance and news. "well, sar! i have discovered your female," he announced, pompously. "no? what's her name? who is she?" "her is named maria torres, sar, and resides in the small 'ouse you h'observed upon the 'ill." "did you see her?" anthony could hardly believe his ears. "oh yes, very h'extensively." "what does she look like? is she dark?" "very dark, sar." "and small?" "not too small," opined allan. "of course, just right. and her eyes, like--like--" "h'ink! spots of h'ink. oh, it is she, master h'auntony." "jove! i believe it is! you're an ace, allan. you're my ace of spades." out of pure joy he began to pummel him playfully. "why don't you rejoice? lift up your voice and sing. maria torres! it's a heavenly name--why don't you make a joyful noise?" allan voiced a feeble hurrah. "it was only by chawnce that i h'encountered her, boss, for she is residing in the city. i h'ascertained all those facts--" "good! find the street and number, quick! i'm going a-wooing! say! when these spaniards court a girl they hang around her window and roll their eyes, don't they? me for that! i'll haunt the torres neighborhood until she shows herself, or die in the attempt. i'll play their game. i'll get a guitar, i'll--oh, from this moment i'm a spaniard of the spaniards. i'm the incarnation of ten thousand fiery cavaliers. i'll stand in front of her house until she sends me a chair. maria tor--what the deuce are you loafing for? get a move on; hustle those kidney feet of yours. don't come back until you have located her; for to-night--ah, blessed night! my life's romance begins in earnest. get out!" allan fled while kirk proceeded to dream over his breakfast of bacon and cold-storage eggs. he was beaming when he appeared at the office. he sang, he whistled, he performed his duties with a joyous uproar that interfered seriously with all around him and set the whole place in confusion. nor did his spirits lessen when, later in the day, allan informed him that the residence of senor luis torres, whom the gods had selected as father to the delectable maria, was at number avenida norte. anthony did not taste his dinner that evening. as darkness settled he planted himself conspicuously on the corner opposite no. and began to study the premises. it was a trifle disappointing to note that chiquita lived in such poor style; the place was not at all impressive. the first floor of the building was given over to a chinese bazaar, and the upper story seemed neither extremely clean nor at all modern. but, although this clashed a bit with his preconceived ideas, he knew that many of the nicest panamanian families lived in modest quarters. his natural impulse was to apply boldly at the door, but he had learned something of local customs, and he determined to give no possible ground for offence. after she had recognized him and seen his willingness to follow the habit of her spanish suitors, it would be feasible, perhaps, to adopt a more americanized method. meanwhile, he must run no risk of antagonizing her people. in the central american scheme of courtship patience plays a large part. it is the young man's practice to martyr himself until the sight of him becomes such a reproach that the family must perforce express its sympathy. although this procedure struck anthony as ludicrous in the extreme, its novelty was not without charm, and he had lived through such a period of torturing uncertainty that the mere fact of the girl's presence was compensation enough for his pains. for an hour he stood motionless, staring at the upper windows of no. . then his feet began to hurt, and he paraded slowly back and forth "playing the bear," as he had heard it termed. another hour passed, and he discovered that, if his presence had not been marked by the members of the torres household, it was at least exciting comment elsewhere in the neighborhood. faces appeared at near-by windows; he heard sounds of muffled merriment which made him uncomfortable; passers-by smiled at him and dropped encouraging remarks which he could not translate. the little policeman, lounging at the next corner, watched him complacently and agreed with his neighbors that the americano was undoubtedly a fine-appearing lover. kirk took his stand at last beneath a street light and gazed languorously upon the windows opposite until his eyes ached as well as his feet. at last a curtain parted, and he saw the flash of a white dress back of it. his heart leaped; he raised his hat; there was a titter from beyond the iron grating. presently another figure was dimly revealed. the watcher held his position stubbornly until the last light in the torres house winked out, then limped homeward, warmed by the glad conviction that at least he had been recognized. promptly at seven o'clock on the following evening he returned to his post, and before he had been there five minutes knew that his presence was noticed. this was encouraging, so he focused his mental powers in an effort to communicate telepathically with the object of his desires. but she seemed unattuned, and coyly refrained from showing her face. he undertook to loiter gracefully, knowing himself to be the target of many eyes, but found it extremely hard to refrain from sitting on the curb, a manifestly unromantic attitude for a love-lorn swain. he swore grimly that, if usage required a suitor to make an exhibition of himself before the entire neighborhood, he would do the job thoroughly. it did not cheer him to reflect that the girl had a keen sense of humor and must be laughing at him, yet he determined to put in a week at this idiotic love-making before he attempted anything else. later in the evening he was rewarded by the glimpse of a handkerchief cautiously waved, and he was delirious with joy as he hobbled homeward. night after night he spent assiduously studying the cracks and blemishes in the stucco walls of no. avenida norte, encouraged by the occasional flutter of a hand or a soulful sigh from behind the lace screen at the third window from the corner. but when sunday came he was in no mood to continue this roundabout and embarrassing mode of courtship longer. he made an early start from his quarters, taking allan with him. "i'll catch her going to mass," he explained, hopefully. "i've just got to put an end to this performance." "will you h'accost her h'openly?" inquired allan. "you bet! if she runs away you trip her up. oh, it's great to be in love!" "without doubt, sar." "she's a corker, isn't she?" "i do not know as to that," allan demurred. "what may be a carker?" "i mean she's beautiful." "oh, h'indeed so! and her h'eyes--like h'ink spots, as you say." "was she wearing a denim dress when you saw her?" "yes, yes," eagerly agreed the negro. "oh, there is no mistake. it was a red dress." "no, it wasn't. it was blue." "h'exactly, sar--a sort of reddish blue." "and she was--petite?" "rather more dark, i should say." "i mean she was small." "oh, it is the same female. it is h'exciting, is it not?" kirk acknowledged that it was exciting, for, now that he had a full day in which to besiege no. , he felt certain of gaining a word at least with his inamorata. he was in good time, it seemed, for hardly had he taken his customary station before the cathedral bells awoke the slumberous echoes of the city. "praise god, she will be coming soon!" allan exclaimed. "i shall h'expire from fright. look! there! there!" down the wide stairs leading from the living-rooms of senor torres came two women, and the negro danced in excitement. as they emerged upon the sidewalk the younger one flashed a glance at the men opposite, and kirk saw that she was a mulatto--evidently a housemaid. his eager eyes flew back to the entrance. allan hissed at him: "yonder goes! quick, or you will be losing she." "where?" "there! the young female in w'ite. it is h'indeed the senorita torres." "that!" anthony stared at the girl amazedly as she cast him a second and more coquettish flash of her black eyes. "why, damn it, that--why, she's a--nigger!" "no, no!" shrilly expostulated the jamaican. "it is she. h'alas! they have turned the corner." kirk wheeled upon his detective in overwhelming disgust. "you idiot!" he breathed. "that girl is a 'dinge.' so, she's the one i've been--oh, it's unspeakable! let's get away from here." "you h'informed me in particular that she is dark," protested allan. "come on!" kirk dragged his companion away as fast as he could. his thoughts were too deep for tears. as soon as his emotion permitted coherent speech, he launched into a tirade so eloquent and picturesque that allan was reduced to a state of wondering awe. pausing at length in his harangue, he turned smouldering eyes upon the black boy. "i ought to punch you right in the nose," he said, with mournful calmness. "let me feel your head." allan obediently doffed his cap, and kirk rapped the woolly cranium with his knuckle. "do you feel that? is there any sensation?" "yes, sar! shortly i shall suffer a swelling." allan stroked the spot tenderly. "it's all imagination; there's no feeling to solid bone. you've got an ivory 'nut,' my friend, just like a cane." "ivory-nuts grow upon trees, sar, in the darien region." anthony regarded him sourly. "the brunswick-balke people never turned out anything half so round and half so hard. that burr of yours is a curio. i told you chiquita was small and beautiful and dainty and--oh, what's the use! this dame is a truck-horse. she's the color of a saddle." "oh, she is not too dark, sar." allan came loyally to the defence of miss torres. "some of the finest people in panama is blacker than that. there is but few who are h'all w'ite." "well, she's all white, and i want you to find her to-day--to-day, understand? you gallop out to the savannas and make some inquiries." he shook his fist in allan's face. "if you don't learn something this trip, i'll have your lignum-vitae cranium in a bowling-alley by dark. lord! if i only spoke spanish!" allan reluctantly departed, and kirk went back to his quarters in high displeasure. it seemed as if the affair had actually left a bad taste in his mouth. he could not compose his features into anything like a decently amiable expression, but went about with a bitter smile upon his lips. every time some new aspect of his grotesque and humiliating mistake occurred to him he suffered a nervous twinge. that afternoon a card was brought to him bearing the ornate inscription in a beautiful spencerian hand: professor jesus herara the herara college of business reconciling himself as best he could to the prospect of an interview with some importunate stranger, he grudgingly consented to have the visitor brought in. professor herara was not alone. he was accompanied by a very short, very fat man, whose smooth skin had the rich, dark coloring of a nice, oily cuban cigar. "senor anthony, it is?" inquired the professor, bowing ceremoniously. "that's my name." "it is my privilege to consult you upon a business of importance." "i'm afraid you have the wrong party. i don't care to learn shorthand." "ah, no, it is not concerning my academy. allow me to present senor luis torres." kirk felt the room begin to revolve slowly. "my friend does not possess a card at the moment, eh?" continued the professor. the little, rotund man bowed, his hand-polished, mahogany features widening in a smile. "'sveree hot wedder!" he exclaimed. "he begs one thousand pardons for not speaking of your language the more perfectly, and so he is request of me to be his interpreter." something urged kirk to flee while there was yet time, but the father of maria torres was between him and the door, and he could not bring himself to push the little man out of the way. so he bade them both be seated in the only two chairs which the room contained, while he rested gingerly upon the edge of the bed. the new-comers let their eyes roll curiously about the chamber, and an embarrassing silence descended. senor torres maintained a set smile designed to be agreeable; professor herara, serene in the possession of his linguistic acquirements, displayed the insouciance of an undertaker. together they beamed benignantly, almost patronizingly, upon the young man. plainly they meant to put him at his ease--but they failed. at length, after clearing his throat impressively, the interpreter began again: "of course, you have been expecting this visit, senor?" "n--not exactly." "my friend is deeply disappointed that he has not the honor of before meeting you." "i am flattered, but--" "indeed, yes! then you are perhaps acquainted with senor torres by reputation? you know who he is?" professor jesus herara raised his brows and inclined his head like a polite school-teacher endeavoring to encourage a diffident pupil. "i regret that i do not." "he is one of our most estimable citizens. he is possess' not only of the magnificent residence at no. avenida norte, but also of a comfortable abode at las savannas, and he has a large trade in sponges and hides. his place of business you will have noticed upon the water-front, perhaps?" kirk wiped his brow nervously and cursed allan. "and now, as for you, senor?" the principal of the herara college of business awaited an answer with unctuous deference. evidently attributing the young man's silence to modesty, he went on, helpfully: "senor torres has instituted inquiries, and ascertained your excellent position with the p. r. r., but he would know more, if soch is not disagreeable to you." "well--i--there isn't much to tell. it is my first job." this was quickly put into spanish, whereupon mr. torres nodded with vigor, as if this information were indeed gratifying--nay, splendid. "it is agreeable to my friend to ascertain your industry, and i may say you are most highly spoke of at the railroad office. therefore, senor torres affords you an invitation to call at his residence on thursday evening." "that's awfully--nice," gasped anthony; "but--er--what's the idea?" "ah!" the interpreter beamed; mr. torres beamed. they combined to radiate a gentle effulgence which was most disquieting. "it is indeed pleasing to encounter a gentleman so truly modest, so possessed of delicacy; but i may say that senor torres is look with favor upon your suit. of course"--he checked kirk's hasty words--"it is not completely settle, by no means; the young lady is but partly won. however"--he winked one black eye reassuringly--"as friend of the family i bid you not to permit discouragement and despair." anthony broke out in desperation: "hold on! let me explain! there's been an awful mistake." "mistake?" the tone was blandly incredulous. "yes. i'm not in love with miss torres." professor jesus herara stared at the speaker as if his mastery of the english language was, after all, incomplete. torres, seeing that he was missing something, interpolated a smiling inquiry; then, as his interpreter made the situation clear, his honeyed smile froze, his sparkling eyes opened in bewilderment. he stared about the room again, as if doubting that he had come to the right place. "there's really a mistake," kirk persisted. "i don't even know miss torres." "ah! now i understand." the professor was intensely relieved. "it is precisely for that purpose we arrived. bueno! you admire from a distance, is it not so? you are struck with the lady's beauty; your heart is awakened. you are miserable. you pine away. you cannot find courage to speak. it is admirable, senor. we understand fully, and i, who know, assure you of her many virtues." "no, it's nothing like that, either. i have no doubt miss torres is altogether charming, but--i--there's just a mistake, that's all. i'm not the least bit in love with her." "but, senor! is it not you who have stood beneath her window nightly? is it not you who have laid siege to her these many days?" the speaker's eyes were glowing with anger as he turned to make his inquiry clear to the young lady's father. mr. torres began to swell ominously. "if you'll just let me explain. i'm in love with a young woman, true enough, but it doesn't happen to be miss torres. i thought it was, but it isn't." there was another vibrant exchange of words between the spaniards. "you were making sport, then, of my friend--" "no, no! it's another person altogether." "who?" "i don't know her name." "what?" herara was about to burst forth when his friend nudged him and he was obliged to put this amazing declaration into spanish. senor torres breathed heavily and exploded an oath. "i met her in the country and made a mistake in the town houses," kirk floundered on. "i never knew till this morning that i was on the wrong trail. it is all my fault. i thought the lady's name was torres." "eh? so you love one whom you do not know? incredible!" "it does sound a little fishy." "and it is a grave affront to my friend. how will the senorita understand?--she in whose breast is awakened already an answering thrills?" "i'm mighty sorry. if you wish, i'll apologize in person to miss torres." at this herara cried out in horror; then, after a brief colloquy with the father, he rose stiffly, saying: "i offer no words from my friend. for the present he does not believe, nor do i. inquiries will be institute, of that be assured. if you have deceived--if your intentions were not of the most honorable"--the head of the herara business college glared in a horrible manner--"you will have occasion to regret those foolish jokes." kirk tried to explain that his present regrets were ample for all time, but, bowing formally, the visitors withdrew, leaving him to revile anew the name of allan allan. when the black boy returned, foot-sore but cheerful, his appearance was the signal for an outburst that left him disconsolate and bewildered. he apologized over and over for his little error, and tried to reinstate himself by announcing, with a confidence he was far from feeling, that this time he had identified the elusive chiquita beyond the peradventure of a doubt. this welcome intelligence did much to make kirk forget his wrath. "what's her name?" he inquired, eagerly. "fermina, sar." "are you sure?" "h'entirely. but it will not h'avail to be courting of those ladies, master h'auntony." "is there more than one?" "two of they--sisters--very rich. they h'occupy the 'ouse h'adjoining senor torres." allan spoke in a hushed voice, and shook his head as if to show the hopelessness of aspiring to such aristocracy. surely kirk knew of the ferminas? arcadio fermina was the owner of the pearl-fishery concession and a person of the highest social distinction. he was white, all white, there was no doubt on that score. undoubtedly chiquita would prove to be his daughter and a joint heiress to his fabulous fortune. but she was not the sort to be courted from the street, even allan knew that much; for, after all, such a procedure was followed only by the middle classes, and in this instance would result in nothing less than disaster. it sounded reasonable, and kirk allowed himself to be half convinced. it was no later than the following day, however, that runnels pointed out two young ladies who were driving past and informed him that they were the misses fermina. "their old man has made a fortune out of the pearl islands," he remarked. "they say those girls have the finest collection of pearls in central america." kirk gazed after them eagerly, but it took no more than a glance to show him that they were not even distantly related to the object of his search. once more he set allan upon the trail with instructions to find out who lived in the large house upon the hill--the one with the driveway of royal palms--and not to return without the information. but by now the jamaican was beginning to weary of this running back and forth and to consider the quest a vain imagining. so, being wishful to dream another lottery number, he brought back with him a fanciful tale designed to quiet his employer and to assure himself ample leisure in the future. "master h'auntony, your female is gone," he informed him, sadly. "gone! where?" "somewhere--on a ship." "are you sure?" "there is no doubt, sar. her name is garavel, and she h'occupies the big 'ouse on the 'ill. i discovered those h'impartant facts from the bajan 'ooman." "stephanie! you saw her? by jove! then you are right this time. quick! tell me all you learned." allan lied fluently, elaborately, and, finding his hero plunged into despair, resigned himself gratefully to another period of blissful idleness. this was much the simplest way, he decided; for even should kirk meet a garavel or a fermina, there was no chance of his winning her, and love, after all, is but a passing impulse which may be summoned or banished at will by such simple mediums as charms. the boy did go out of his way to ease his benefactor's malady by taking a lock of his own fuzzy wool and placing it beneath kirk's mattress, after certain exorcisms. there followed a period of blank dejection. kirk's first disappointment, when the girl had failed to keep her tryst, was as nothing compared to this, for now he felt that she was unattainable. he did not quite give up hope; so many strange experiences had befallen him since his involuntary departure from new york that it all seemed like a dream in which anything is possible. but he was deep in the doldrums when, with magic suddenness, the scene changed, and his long discouragement came to an end. xix "la tosca" the winter season was at its height now. for weeks there had been no rain, and the pacific side of the isthmus was growing sere and yellow beneath the ceaseless glare of the sun. the musty dampness of the rainy season had disappeared, the steady trade-winds breathed a dreamy languor, and the days fled past in one long, unending procession of brilliant sameness. every ship from the north came laden with tourists, and the social life of the city grew brilliant and gay. there were receptions, dinners, dances; the plazas echoed to the strains of music almost nightly. now that nature smiled, the work upon the canal went forward with ever-growing eagerness. records were broken in every department, the railroad groaned beneath its burden, the giant human machine was strained to its fullest efficiency. young anthony mastered the details of his work very rapidly, for railroading had been bred into him. he needed little help from runnels, and soon began to feel a conscious grasp of affairs as surprising to himself as to his chief. being intensely interested in his work, he avoided all social entanglements, despite repeated invitations from mrs. cortlandt. but, when the grand-opera season began, he made an exception, and joined her box-party on the opening night. it seemed quite like old times to don an evening suit; the stiff, white linen awakened a pang of regret. the time was not far distant when he had felt never so much at home as in these togs; but now they were hot and uncomfortable--and how they accentuated his coat of tan! there was a somewhat formal dinner in the cortlandts' new home, at which there were a dozen guests; so kirk had no opportunity of speaking with his hostess until they had reached the theatre, where he found himself seated immediately behind her. "i've scarcely seen you lately," she said, at the first opportunity. "you're a very neglectful young man." "i knew you were getting settled in your house, and we've been tremendously busy at the office." "i began to think you were avoiding us." "you must know better than that." she regarded him shrewdly over her shoulder. "you're not still thinking of--that night at taboga? you haven't seemed the same since." he blushed, and nodded frankly. "i can't help thinking about it. you were mighty nice to overlook a break like that, but--" unconsciously his eyes shifted to cortlandt, who was conversing politely with a giggly old lady from gatun. she tapped his cheek lightly with her fan. "just to show you how forgiving i am, i am going to ask you to go riding with me. the late afternoons are lovely now, and i've found a good horse for you. i suppose you ride?" "i love it." "wednesday, at five, then." she turned to another guest, and kirk leaned back to take in the scene about him. like most latin-american cities, panama prides herself upon her government theatre, which is in truth very beautiful. although it remains dark most of the year, its brief period of opera is celebrated by a notable outpouring. to-night the magnificent white-and-gold auditorium was filled to the topmost gallery, and the two circles of boxes were crowded with the flower of panamanian society, tourists from the north, and americans from the whole length of the canal zone. kirk himself had seen to running a theatre special from colon, and recognized all six of the commissioners, with their families. it was an exceedingly well-dressed audience, and although the pit was plentifully sprinkled with men in white, the two lower galleries were in solid full-dress. bejewelled women in elaborate gowns lent the affair almost the elegance of a night at the metropolitan, while the flash of many uniforms made the scene colorful. suddenly the orchestra broke into the national air, and with a great rustling and turning of heads the audience rose to its feet. in the centre box of the first tier, ornately hung with flags and a coat of arms, anthony beheld a giant black man of majestic appearance, drawn to his full height and flanked by a half-dozen aides in uniform, all at a stiff military salute. "that is president galleo," edith told him. "jove! he's a regal-looking chap," kirk exclaimed. "he's very much of a man, too, yet even here there is a color line. nobody acknowledges it, but the old castilian families are keenly aware of it just the same." as the last measured strain died out the audience reseated itself, the introduction to "la tosca" sounded, and the curtain rose. although the names of the performers were unknown to kirk, their voices were remarkably good, and he soon became absorbed in the drama. a sudden lonesomeness surged over him as he recalled another night when he and darwin k. anthony had heard these same notes sung. but then they had sat enthralled by the art of caruso, scotti, and the ravishing cavalieri. it had been one of the rare hours when he and his father had felt themselves really in sympathy. the governor had come down for some fabulous directors' meeting, he remembered, and had wired his son to run in from new haven for the evening. they had been real chums that night, and even at their modest little supper afterward, when the old gentleman had rowed with the waiter and cursed his dyspepsia, they had laughed and chatted like cronies. yet a week later they had quarrelled. with an unexpected access of tenderness, anthony jr. longed to see once more that tumbled shock of white hair, that strong-lined face; to hear again the gruff tones of that voice he loved so well. after all, there were only two anthonys left in the world, and he had been to blame. he acknowledged that he had been a ne'er-do-well. no wonder his father had been harsh, but still--old darwin k. should not have been so domineering, so ready to credit all he heard. kirk pressed his lips together and swore to make good, if for no other reason than to show his dad. as the curtain fell on the first act, he rose with the others and, accompanied by mrs. cortlandt, made his way down the long passageway and out into a brightly lighted, highly decorated foyer filling now with voluble people. it was a splendid room; but he had no eyes for it. his gaze was fixed upon the welcome open-air promenade outside, and his fingers fumbled with his cigarette-case. "oh, wait, please," he heard edith say, "i want you to meet some one." he had done little except respond to meaningless introductions all the evening, and nothing could have pleased him less at the moment. but, somewhat awkwardly, he began to edge his way through the press in the wake of his hostess. the next moment he halted and stood stock-still in helpless surprise. there, not a yard away, was the girl of his dreams demurely bowing to edith cortlandt, her hand upon the arm of a swarthy man whom kirk knew at once as her father. he felt the blood rush blindingly to his head, felt it drumming at his ears, knew that he must be staring like a man bereft. mrs. cortlandt was speaking, and he caught the name "garavel" like a bugle-call. they turned upon him, the spanish gentleman bowed, and he saw that chiquita's little white-gloved hand was extended toward him. she was the same dainty, desirous maid he had met in the forest, but now splendidly radiant and perfect beyond his imagining. she was no longer the simple wood-sprite, but a tiny princess in filmy white, moulded by some master craftsman. as on that earlier meeting, she was thrilling with some subtle mirth which flickered on her lips or danced in the depths of her great, dark eyes. how he ever got through that wild introductory moment without making a show of himself, anthony never knew, for his first overwhelming impulse was to seize the girl and never let her escape. it was the same feeling he had had at las savannas, only ten times harder to resist. the general confusion, perhaps, helped to hide his emotion, for around them eddied a constant human tide, through which at last came mr. cortlandt and the other members of his party. there were more introductions, more bows and polite exchanges of words which had the maddening effect of distracting miss garavel's attention. then, by some glorious miracle, kirk found himself moving toward the open air at her side, with mrs. cortlandt and the banker in advance of them. "oh, chiquita," he said, softly, "i thought i'd never find you. i've hunted everywhere." at the tremulous intensity of his tone, she gave an uncertain laugh and flashed him a startled glance. "chiquita is not my name," she said, reprovingly. "yes, it is; it must be. i can't think of you by any other. hasn't it been whispering at my ears ever since you said it? it has nearly driven me mad." "senor antonio! i have seen you but once." "i have seen you every day, every hour-" "indeed?" "i can't see anything else. don't you understand?" "you forget that we have but just been introduced." "don't be offended; you see, i can't realize that i have found you at last. when i learned you had gone away, i thought i would surely-" "i have been nowhere." "didn't you go away on a ship?" "that is absurd! i have remained always in my father's house." "then wait until i catch that boy of mine! didn't you know i was looking for you? couldn't you feel it?" "indeed, why should i imagine such things?" "why, if you couldn't feel a thing like that, you can't love me." "of a certainly not," she gasped. "you should not joke about such things." "i'm not joking; i never was so serious in my life. i-i'm afraid i can't tell you everything-it all wants to come out at once. why didn't you come back as you promised?" "it was stephanie-she is such a ferocious person! i was brought to the city that day-but no, senor. i did not promise. i said only 'perhaps.'" "have you done your penance?" "it was finished yesterday. this is the first time i have been out. oh, it is delightful. the music-the people!" "and i can come to see you now?" "very well do you know that you cannot. have you not learned our customs?" then, with an abrupt and icy change of tone: "i forget. of course you are familiar with those customs, since you have become the wooer of miss torres." "oh, lord! where did you hear about that?" "so! it is true. you are fickle, senor-or is it that you prefer dark people?" "i was looking for you. i thought it was you behind those curtains all the time." he began a flurried defence of his recent outrageous behavior, to which miss garavel endeavored to listen with distant composure. but he was so desperately in earnest, so anxious to make light of the matter, so eager to expose all his folly and have done with it, that he must have been funnier than he knew. in the midst of his narrative the girl's eyes showed an encouraging gleam, and when he described his interview with torres and heran their surprise and dramatic indignation, she laughed merrily. "oh, it wasn't funny at the time," he hastened to add. "i felt as though i had actually proposed, and might have to pay alimony." "poor maria! it is no light thing to be cast aside by one's lover. she is broken-hearted, and for six months she will do penance." "this penance thing is a habit with you girls. but i wasn't her lover; i'm yours." "do not be foolish," she exclaimed, sharply, "or i shall be forced to walk with my father." "don't do that. can't you see we must make haste while the curtain is down?" "i do not see. i am strolling in search of the cool air." she bowed and smiled at some passing friends. she seemed very careless, very flippant. she was not at all the impetuous, mischievous chiquita he had met in the woods. "see here!" he said, soberly. "we can't go on this way. now that i've met your father, i'm going to explain my intentions to him, and ask his permission to call on you." "we have a--proverb, senor, 'ir por lana, y volver trasquilado,' which means, 'take heed lest you find what you do not seek.' do not be impetuous." "there's only one thing i'm seeking." "my father is a stern man. in his home he is entirely a spaniard, and if he learned how we met, for instance"-even under the electric light he saw her flush-"he would create a terrible scene." she paused in her walk and leaned over the stone balustrade, staring out across the ink-black harbor. "trust me! i shan't tell him." "there are so many reasons why it is useless." "name one." "one!" she shrugged lightly. "in the first place i care nothing for you. is not that enough?" "no, indeed. you'll get over that." "let us imagine, then, the contrary. you americans are entirely different from our people. you are cold, deliberate, wicked-your social customs are not like ours. you do not at all understand us. how then could you be interested to meet a spanish family?" "why, you're half american." "oh yes, although it is to be regretted. even at school in your baltimore i learned many improper things, against which i have had to struggle ever since." "for instance?" "ah," she sighed, "i saw so much liberty; i heard of the shocking conduct of your american ladies, and, while i know it is quite wrong and wicked, still-it is interesting. why, there is no other nice girl in all panama who would have talked with you as i did in the forest that day." "but what has all this to do with my coming to see you?" "it is difficult to explain, since you will not understand. when a young man is accepted into a spanish house, many things are taken for granted. besides that, we do not know each other, you and i. also, if you should come to see me, it would cause gossip, misunderstanding among my friends." "i'll declare myself in advance," he promised warmly. "no, no, no! we spanish-americans do not care for strangers. we have our own people and we are satisfied. you yankees are not very nice; you are barbarous; you assume such liberties. our young men are gentle, modest, sweet--" "um-m! i hadn't noticed it." "this is the first time i have ever talked so freely with a gentleman, and i suppose it is immodest. after all, it is much better that old people who are of more experience should discuss these questions." "but don't you want to have a voice in your own affairs?" he eagerly urged. "do you really want your relatives to tell you whom to meet, whom to love, and whom to marry?" she answered, frankly: "sometimes i feel that way. yet at other times i am sure they must know best." "i don't believe you are the sort to shut your eyes and do exactly as you're told." "i do rebel sometimes. i protest, but it is only the american blood in me." "if you'd learn to know me a little bit, maybe you'd enjoy having me around the house." "but i cannot know you, any more than you can know me," she cried, with a little gesture of despair at his dullness. "don't you see--before we could get acquainted nicely people would be talking?" "let's try. you're living at the country place again, aren't you? suppose i should get lost some day--tomorrow, for instance?" "no, no! listen. it is the warning bell, and we must return." the crowd was filing into the theatre now. they fell in behind senor garavel and mrs. cortlandt. "i'm going hunting again tomorrow," prophesied kirk, "and i'm almost certain to lose my way-about three o'clock." "you should take with you a guide." "that's not a bad idea. i'd like to talk it over with you. suppose we have another stroll after the next act?" "i shall be with my father. never before have i enjoyed so much liberty." she sighed gratefully. "oh, i detest your blamed, straitlaced spanish customs," he cried, hotly. "what do they amount to, anyhow? i love you. i do, i do-" she laughed and darted to her father's side. "don't you think miss garavel is a pretty girl?" mrs. cortlandt questioned, as they strolled toward their box. "she's a dream." anthony's tone left nothing unsaid. "you got along together capitally. most of the senoritas are impossible." "by the way, what is her name?" "gertrudis. rather pleasing, i think." kirk thought so, too. in fact, it pleased him so greatly that he thought of nothing else during the entire second act of "la tosca." it was even sweeter than the music of her hesitating accent. when, after an age, the curtain fell for a second time, he escaped from his companions, mumbling some excuse or other, and made haste to find her again. but as he approached he felt a sudden pang of jealous rage. ramon alfarez was beside her, and the two were chatting with an appearance of intimacy that made him furious. close at hand stood garavel, deep in conversation with colonel jolson. "ah, ramon, i wish you to meet mr. anthony," said gertrudis. "so! you have met before?" "in colon," kirk explained, while alfarez scorched him with his eyes. "mr. alfarez was very hospitable to me." "yes," the spaniard exclaimed. "it is my great regret that senor ant'ony did not remain for longer." "ramon is with the president's party this evening. he is senor galleo's secretary, you know." "i informed you concerning those good fortunes some time since, eh?" ramon's insulting stare made kirk long to take him by the throat. "yes, you told me. i suppose it is a fine position." alfarez swelled pompously. "i 'ave many responsibilities." "it brings you very close to the chief executive, no doubt." "i 'ave indeed the honor to be his intimate!" "he's the tallest negro i ever saw," kirk said, simply, at which the haughty ramon seemed about to explode, and miss garavel quite shamelessly giggled. "that is funny," she exclaimed. "but you must not tease ramon. you understand, the voice of the people has made galleo president, but no one forgets that he is not one of us." her youthful countryman twisted his mustache with trembling fingers. "it is politics!" he declared. "and yet galleo is a great man; i am honor' to be his secretary. but by the grace of god our next president will be w'ite." "ramon's father, don anibal, you know." gertrudis nodded wisely at the american. "we are very proud of ramon, he is so young to be high in politics." "eh! yes, and many of our bravest patriots 'ave been black men." "oh, we've had some brave negroes, too," kirk acknowledged. "so! you see!" alfarez was triumphant. "the greatest fighter we ever had was a colored chap." "ah!" "his name was gans--joe gans." "you are still joking," said miss garavel. "in baltimore i read the newspapers about that gans. he was a-box-fighter, what?" "exactly. but he never carried a secretary." alfarez's countenance was sallow as he inquired: "does senor ant'ony discover our climate to be still agreeable?" "very. it hasn't grown too warm for me yet." "we are but approaching our 'ot season." the speaker's eyes snapped. "oh, i'll stand the heat all right, and the mosquitoes, too." "eh! do not be too sure. the mosquito makes a leetle buzzing-but it is well to take warning. if not, behol', some day you grow ver' seeck." heretofore kirk had hated ramon in a careless, indifferent sort of way, feeling that he owed him a good drubbing, which he would be pleased to administer if ever a fitting time arrived. but now, since he saw that the jackanapes had the audacity to love gertrudis, his feeling became intense. the girl, of course, was fully alive to the situation, and, although she evidently enjoyed it, she did her best to stand between the two men. as for alfarez, he was quick to feel the sudden fierce hostility he had aroused, and it seemed to make him nervous. moreover, he conceived that he had scored heavily by his last retort, at which kirk had only smiled. it therefore seemed best to him to withdraw from the conversation (annoyingly conducted in english), and a few moments later he stalked majestically away. this was just what kirk wanted, and he quickly suggested the balcony. but gertrudis was obstinate. "i must remain with my father," she said. "may i sit beside you, then? i've been thinking of a lot of things to say. i always think of bully remarks when it's too late. now i've forgotten them. do you know, i'm going to nestle up to your father and make him like me?" "again you are speaking of that subject. i have known you but an hour, and you talk of nothing but my father, of me, of coming to call." "well, i can't think of anything else." "you are too bold. spanish fathers do not like such young men. but to hear me talk!" she flushed slightly. "i have lost all modesty to speak of those things. you force me to embarrass myself." "i was an instantaneous success with miss torres' father. he was ready to send a dray for my trunks." "let us discuss other things." "i haven't the strength. you once spoke of a chap your people had picked out. it isn't-alfarez?" she let her dark eyes rest upon his a moment, and his senses swam. then she nodded slowly. "you do not like him?" "just like a nose-bleed. the day you and i are married i'm going to send him a wreath of poison ivy." "it pleases you always to joke." "no joke about that. you won't give in, will you?" "there is no question of force nor of surrender, senor. i insist now that we shall speak of other things." a few moments later he was constrained to rejoin his hostess' party. "when are you going back to las savannas?" he asked, as he reluctantly arose. "to-morrow." "the hunting ought to be good-" but she frowned at him in annoyance, and he left her, after all, without knowing whether he had gained or lost ground. of one thing only he was sure-their meeting had been in some respects a disappointment. she was not by any means so warm and impulsive as he had supposed. her girlishness, her simplicity, her little american ways, cloaked a deep reserve and a fine sense of the difference in their positions. she could be spanish enough when she chose, he perceived, and he felt, as he was intended to feel, that the little lady of quality he had met to-night would be much harder to win than the girl of the woods. the plague of it was that, if anything, he was more in love with the definite and dazzling gertrudis garavel than he had been with the mysteriously alluring chiquita. if only she were all american, or even all spanish, perhaps he would know better how to act. but, unfortunately, she was both-just enough of both to be perplexing and wholly unreliable. and then, too, there was alfarez! xx an awakening he was in no more satisfactory frame of mind when, on the next afternoon, he shouldered his gun and set out for the country. he went directly to the fairy pool, and waited there in a very fever of anxiety. despite the coolness and peace of the place, he felt his pulses throb and his face burn. if she came, it would mean everything to him. if she stayed away-why, then he would have to believe that, after all, the real gertrudis garavel had spoken last night at the opera, and that the sprightly, mirthful little maid who had bewitched him on their first meeting no longer existed. an odd bashfulness overtook him. it did not seem to him that it could possibly have been he who had talked to her so boldly only the evening before. at the thought of his temerity he felt almost inclined to flee, yet he would not have deserted his post for worlds. the sound of a voice shot through his troubled thoughts like a beam of sunlight through a dark room. "oh, senor antonio! how you startled me!" instantly his self-possession came back. he felt relieved and gay. "good-afternoon, queen!" he rose and bowed politely. "i thought i saw one underneath the waterfall just now." "who would have expected you to be here?" she cried, with an extreme and obviously counterfeit amazement that filled him with delight. "i'm lost," he declared; then, after one look into her eyes, he added, "absolutely, utterly, irretrievably lost." "it is very fortunate that i chanced to be passing, for this is a lonely spot; nobody ever comes here." "well, i hardly ever lose myself in busy places. won't you sit down?" "since we have met quite by accident, perhaps it would not be so very improper," she laughed mischievously. "you know i've been lost now for several months. it's a delightful feeling-you ought to try it." she settled uncertainly beside him like a butterfly just alighting, ready to take flight again, on the instant. "perhaps i can help you to find your way, senor?" she said, with ingenuous politeness. "you are the only one who can, miss garavel. i don't know that i ever told you, but i'm in love." "indeed?" "i am the most miserably happy person in the world, for i have just this moment begun to believe that the young lady likes me a little bit." "oh! but i forgot the real reason why i came. i have something i must tell you." "all right. but honestly now, didn't you want to come?" she turned upon him in a little burst of passion. "yes!" she cried. "of course i did! i wished to come, madly, senor. there is no use to lie. but wait! it is wholly because i am a-what you call fleert-a very sad fleert." no one could possibly describe the quaint pronunciation she gave the word. "it makes my heart patter, like that"--she made her little fingers "patter"-"to be wooed even by a yankee. but i do not love you in the least. oh no! even if i wished to do so, there are too many reasons why i could not, and when i explain you will understand." "i know; it's ramon alfarez. you're half-way engaged to him--but you know you don't love him." "ah! it is not too sure. he is of fine family, he is rich, he is handsome-not possibly could i care for any man who was not all of those. all my life i have thought him a very sweet gentleman, and for a long time it has been agreed that i should be his wife. even all the young ladies are furious at me, which is very nice also-so it is only because i am disobedient that i rebelled. but i was punished for my evil disposition." she sighed mournfully. "and now it is all arranged once more." "is it really signed, sealed, stamped, and delivered in the presence of?" "no, no; but 'arco siempre armado'-" "of course. is that a prescription?" '"a bow long bent grows weak.' and there are so many reasons why i should say yes." "you haven't mentioned any that would be binding in law." "my father's wish. is not that sufficient?" "you disregarded that once." "that was but a flutter. all the time i knew i should be ramon's wife when the time arrived. but it made him so unhappy that i was quite pleased. only for those ugly blue dresses, i would have greatly enjoyed my penance. perhaps i could refuse to wed a man my father chose for me, but no nice spanish girl would dare to wed a man her father did not like. do you see?" "but it's no cinch your father won't positively hunger for me, once we get chummy." "and i for ramon? how sad that would be, eh?" "really, now, couldn't you bring yourself to marry a chap who wasn't aristocratic, rich, and handsome? you know that's a tough combination. most aristocratic people are poor, and the rich ones have dyspepsia." "oh no! i am quite certain." "suppose i should show you a family tree that you couldn't throw a stone over?" "it would not do at all. i am so extravagant." "i fully intend to be rich, some time." "but you are not handsome, senor." her eyes travelled over him with a mischievous twinkle. "you are too beeg." "i'm very durable; i'd last a long time." she shook her dark head decisively, and he saw the lights that rippled in her profuse crown of hair. "you are too different, you disregard our customs, you are bold. you continue to come here against my wishes, which no spanish gentleman would dare to do." "oh, i'm no spanish gentleman. i'm just an emotional blond; but i'm bound to marry you." "if one of my countrymen found me so indiscreet as to talk with him alone like this, he would go away and never come back. i am amazed at you, senor. have you no pride?" "not a bit; and now that i have met all your objections, let's arrange the details. shall it be a church wedding?" she laughed deliciously. "what a nice game it is we have played! but now i must talk seriously." "you witch!" he breathed. "do you think i could ever give you up?" she checked him gravely. "truly, it was just a game--and yet it was not altogether so, either. but here is what i came to say. the strangest thing has happened-not until last night after the opera did i even dream of it, and-even now i cannot believe. oh, i am so proud!" "more bad news for me, i suppose." "yes. but such good news for me that i am sure you will be glad." timidly he reached out and touched a fold of her white dress. she seemed to be slipping from him. "coming home from the theatre my father told me-oh, the most wonderful thing! he said-but how shall i speak of such a secret?" "evidently you don't intend to." "i promised very faithfully not to tell, so-he is to be the next president of panama." "pres--" anthony stared at her in frank amazement. "why, i thought old man alfarez--" "it seems your country does not like him because he hates americans-see? this is the work of that mr. cortlandt. think! is it not wonderful? now that you know the truth, you must see at once that by no means could i marry to a person like you." "why not?" "ohe! don't you understand? i shall be the finest lady in the republic. all men will adore me. i will have suitors-not one or two as now, but many. i will be 'the beautiful senorita garavel,' for all the great people are beautiful. i shall be proud, also, and i shall not even speak to yankees any more. my father will be the most famous man of all the republic-perhaps in the whole world, i don't know." "i don't think it will make any difference with him when he knows who i am." "then you also are a great man, eh?" she hitched herself about, to face him more squarely. "that is truly interesting. he would scarcely wish a railroad conductor to address the daughter of president garavel." "oh, i've been promoted since i was out here last. anyhow, i guess my dad is pretty nearly as good as anybody in panama." "he is, then, of blue blood?" "no! red." "oh, but a gentleman!" "he is now. he used to be a brakeman." "you appear to be-proud of such a thing! how strange! my father's blood runs back to the conquistadors; even in the earliest books one finds garavels. they were conquerors, they ruled this country and all these people." "that's something to be proud of, but it isn't everything. high-bred horses run well, but they can't pull. it's the old farm nag that delivers the merchandise. but i'll tackle your father, and i'll promise to vote for him." "you are very fonny." she gazed at him seriously, one tiny foot curled under her, her chin nestling into her palm. "do you love me?" "not one single speck. i merely like you to make love at me and cause my heart to jomp! but that is not fair to you, is it?-since you can have no hope." the little hypocrite continued to voice words of warning and denial, though her eyes invited him, and for a long time they continued this delightful play of pleading and evasion. but at last chiquita jumped up with a great appearance of alarm. "heavens! the time," she cried. "i have stayed too long by much. stephanie will miss me." he rose and stretched out his hand as if to hold her. "shall i come again to-morrow?" she grew suddenly earnest. "no, no, senor. that is something you should not ask. if ever we are to meet again, it must be with my father's consent. please! do not urge, for truly i would have to refuse." she let her palm rest in his an instant, and her cheek went scarlet as he pressed it to his lips. then she said: "go, mr. brazen one. how greatly it surprised me to find you here i cannot say. it gave me such a start! and, senor antonio--my father may be found any day at his bank." before he could detain her she was gone, flitting up the path with just one flashing smile of mischief over her shoulder. anthony went home with his head in the clouds. all his doubts were now at rest; for while chiquita had stubbornly denied him all encouragement, he felt sure that her heart had answered. it was in the highest spirits, therefore, that he opened a letter he found awaiting him, and read as follows: dear kirk,--i hope you are heartily sick of yourself and ready to do something decent for a change. knowing your aristocratic habits as i do, i realize you must owe a lot of money by this time, and your new friends must be getting tired of you. i have been expecting you to draw on me daily, and am taking this occasion to warn you in your own expensively acquired college english that "there is nothing doing"--except upon one condition. if you will agree to behave yourself in future, i will pay your debts, send you west, and give you a job as operator at forty dollars a month. but--you will go where i send you, and you will stay where you are put. i will do the thinking for both of us and judge of your associates. maybe if you prove to be any good at all, i will arrange with the police to let you spend your vacations in "that dear new york," which still shows signs of your red--paint brush. i would be pleased to have an apology by return mail, so that i may meet you in new orleans and start you off once more on the road to decency and self-respect. you will never be a success at anything, but i am always ready to do my duty. this is my last offer, and if you refuse you may distinctly and definitely go to the devil. as ever, your loving father, darwin k. anthony. p.s.--i can get good operators for thirty dollars a month. the extra ten dollars is pure sentiment. kirk had known in advance just about what the letter contained, and now laughed aloud. it was so like the old gentleman! why, he could almost hear him dictating it. spurred by his present exhilaration, he wrote an answer, which he read with a good deal of satisfaction before sealing it up. dear dad,-your affectionate letter, with the kind offer to take charge of a siding out in the dakotas, is at hand. i would like to help you along with your business, but "upward and onward" is my motto, and you'll have to raise that salary a bit. i am drawing two hundred and twenty-five dollars a month at present, quarters furnished and promotion promised. i have made some good investments, and there are no debts to settle. enclosed find my last bank statement, which will doubtless prove a great disappointment to you. if you need a good master of transportation, i would be pleased to consider an offer at any time, provided the salary is satisfactory, but your proposal to edit my acquaintances is out of the question. my decency and self respect are doing well, thank you, and i like the climate. outside my window a mocking-bird sings nightly, and i have a tame rabbit with ears like a squirrel and baby-blue eyes--also a jamaican negro boy who, i fear, could not stand our harsh northern winters. the salary would have to be about six thousand a year. as always, your devoted and obedient son, kirk. p.s.--i would not care to locate farther west than buffalo. my wife might not like it. "if he survives the first part, that tag line will put him down for the count," mused the writer, with a grin. "and, yet, something tells me he will not embrace my offer. ah, well! promotion is slow." he whistled blithely as he sent allan off to the post-office. kirk lost no time in calling at the bank, but was disappointed to learn that senor andres garavel had left the city for an unexpected business tour of the provinces and would not return for at least two weeks. at first he was inclined to doubt the truth of this statement, but a casual inquiry from mrs. cortlandt confirmed it, and, cursing his luck, he sought distraction where he could most easily find it. in the days that followed he saw nothing of gertrudis, but a good deal of edith cortlandt. she had redeemed her promise of getting him a good horse-something rare in this country-and he was grateful for the exercise, which came as a welcome relief from his indoor toil. they rode almost daily; he dined at her house, and once again made one of her party at the opera. soon their old friendly intercourse was going on as if it had never been interrupted. as for edith, this unsatisfying, semi-public intimacy came to be quite as much a pain as a pleasure to her. during these past few weeks she had been plunged in a mental turmoil, the signs of which she had concealed with difficulty. she had fought with herself; she had tried to reason; she had marshalled her pride, but all in vain. at last she awoke to the terrifying certainty that she was in love. it had all begun with that moment of impulsive surrender at taboga. the night following had been terrible to her. in its dark hours she had seen her soul for the first time, and the glimpse she got frightened her. following this, she became furious with herself, then resentful toward anthony; next she grew desperate and reckless. she began to look upon her husband with a quickened curiosity, and found him a stranger. for years she had made allowance for his weaknesses, ignoring them as she ignored his virtues; but never before had he appeared so colorless, so insignificant, above all so alien. she had barely tolerated him hitherto, but now she began to despise him. if cortlandt was aware of her change of feeling and its cause, his method of dealing with her showed some keenness. silent contempt was what she could least endure from him of all men; yet this was just what his manner toward her expressed-if it expressed anything. beyond those words as they were leaving the island, he had said nothing, had never referred to the incident, had not so much as mentioned anthony's name unless forced to do so, and this offended her unreasonably. she caught him regarding her strangely at times with a curious, faltering expression, but he was so icy in his reserve, he yielded so easily to her predominance, that she could divine nothing and turned the more fiercely to her inward struggle. even if he did suspect, what then? it was no affair of his; she was her own mistress. she had given him all he possessed, she had made a man of him. he was her creature, and had no rights beyond what she chose to give. they saw less and less of each other. he became more formal, more respectfully unhusbandlike. he spent few daylight hours in the house, coming and going as he pleased, frequenting the few clubs of the city, or riding alone. on more than one occasion he met her and anthony on their horses. only before others, or at their frequent political councils, were they quite the same as they had been. of anthony, on the other hand, she arranged to see more than ever, flattering him by a new deference in her manner, making him feel always at ease with her, watching him vainly for the least sign of awakening desire. in their frequent rides they covered most of the roads about the city, even to the ruins of old panama. then they began to explore the by-paths and trails. one afternoon they turned into an unfrequented road that led off to the jungle from the main highway, walking their horses while they marvelled at the beauty of the foliage. the trail they knew led to a coffee plantation far up among the hills, but it was so little travelled that the verdure brushed them as they went, and in many places they passed beneath a roof of branches. before they had penetrated a quarter of a mile they were in the midst of an unbroken solitude, shut off from the world by a riotous glory of green, yellow, and crimson. they had not spoken for a long time, and were feeling quite content with the pleasant monotony of--their journey, when they burst out into a rocky glen where a spring of clear water bubbled forth. with a common impulse they reined in; twenty feet farther on the trail twisted into the screen of verdure and was lost. "what a discovery!" exclaimed edith. "help me down, please, i'm going to drink." kirk dismounted and lent her a hand; the horses snorted appreciatively, and stepping forward, thrust their soft muzzles eagerly into the stream, then fell to browsing upon the tender leaves at their shoulders. edith quenched her thirst, shook the cramp from her limbs, and said: "some time we will have to see where this road leads. there may be more surprises beyond." she broke a flower from its stem and fastened it in kirk's buttonhole, while he gazed down at her with friendly eyes. "you're looking awfully well lately," he declared. glancing up, she met his gaze and held it for an instant. "it's the open air and the exercise. i enjoy these rides with you more than i can say." something in her look gave him a little thrill of embarrassment. "i think i'll give marquis and gyp their dessert," he said, and, turning aside, began to gather a handful of the greenest leaves. the instant his eyes were off her, she took the horses by their bridles, swung them about, and with a sharp blow of her riding-crop sent them snorting and clattering down the trail. kirk wheeled barely in time to see them disappearing. "here!" he cried, sharply. "what are you doing?" "they bolted." "they'll hike straight for town. now i'll have to chase--" he glanced at her sharply. "say, why did you do that?" "because i wanted to. isn't that reason enough?" her eyes were reckless and her lips white. "you shouldn't do a thing like that!" he cried, gruffly. "it's foolish. now i'll have to run them down." "oh, you can't catch them." "well, i'll have a try at it, anyhow." he tossed away his handful of leaves. "silly! i did it because i wanted to talk with you." "well, those horses wouldn't overhear." "don't be angry, kirk. i haven't seen you alone since that night." "taboga?" he said, guiltily. "you're not going to lecture me again? i'm sorry enough as it is." never in all his life had he felt more uncomfortable. he could not bring himself to meet her gaze, feeling that his own face must be on fire. "what a queer chap you are! am i so unattractive that you really want to rush off after those horses?" he said nothing, and she went on after a moment of hesitation: "i have known men who would have thought it a privilege to be left alone with me like this." "i--have no doubt." "you remember, for instance, i told you there was one man at taboga whom i did not wish to see?" "yes--at the sanitarium." "well, something like this happened once--with him--and i told stephen." "and did you tell mr. cortlandt what i did?" "do you think i would have come riding with you if i had?" she shook her head. "kirk, i used to think you were an unusually forward young man, but you're not very worldly, are you?" "n-no--yes! i guess i'm as wise as most fellows." "sometimes i think you are very stupid." he began firmly: "see here, mrs. cortlandt, you have been mighty good to me, and i'm indebted to you and your husband for a whole lot. i am terribly fond of you both." she clipped a crimson bloom from its stem with a vicious blow of her crop, then, with eyes fixed upon the fallen flower, broke the awkward pause that followed. "i suppose," she said, half defiantly, "you know how things are with stephen and me--everybody must know, i suppose. i have done a lot of thinking lately, and i have made up my mind that the last appeal of what is right or wrong lies with one's self. i'm not going to care any longer what the world thinks of my actions so long as my own heart justifies them. happiness--that is what i want, and i will have it--i will have it at any cost. it is my right. because a woman marries without love, is it right for her to forego love all her life? i think not." she looked up, and with a change of tone ran on swiftly: "i have studied you for a long time, kirk. i know the sort of man you are. i know you better than you know yourself. very lately i have begun to study myself, too, and i know, at last, the sort of woman i am." she drew near and laid a hand on each shoulder, forcing him to look straight into her eyes. "i am not like most women; i can't do things by halves; i can't temporize with vital things; i prefer to experiment, even blindly. i used to think i was born to rule, but i think now that a woman's only happiness lies in serving; and i used to believe i was contented, when all the time i was waiting for something and didn't know it. don't be silly now; you're just like every other man." "i can't pretend to misunderstand you, although--listen!" he cut his words short. "here comes some one." she turned her head, as from the direction their mounts had taken came the sound of approaching hoots. "natives from the hills." she nodded carelessly toward the purple mountains back of them. but the next moment she gave a little gasp of consternation. out from the overhung path, with a great rustling of leaves, came, not the expected flea-bitten panama horse, but a familiar bay, astride of which was stephen cortlandt. he was leading marquis and gyp by their bridles, and reined in at sight of his wife and her companion. "hello!" he said. "i caught your horses for you." "jove! that's lucky!" kirk greeted the husband's arrival with genuine relief. "they bolted when we got down to take a drink, and we were getting ready for a long walk. thanks, awfully." "no trouble at all. i saw them as they came out on the main road." cortlandt's pigskin saddle creaked as he bent forward to deliver the reins. he was as cool and immaculate as ever. he met edith's eyes without the slightest expression. "nice afternoon for a ride." "if i had known you were riding to-day you might have come with us," she said. he smiled in his wintry fashion, then scanned the surroundings appreciatively. "pretty spot, isn't it? if you are going back, i'll ride with you." "good enough. may i give you a hand, mrs. cortlandt?" kirk helped edith to her seat, at which her husband bowed his thanks. then the three set out in single file. "which way?" inquired stephen as they reached the highroad. "back to town, i think," edith told him, "and you?" "i'm not ready yet. see you later." he raised his hat and cantered easily away, while the other two turned their horses' heads toward the city. xxi the rest of the family the time for senor garavel's return having arrived, kirk called at the bank, and found not the least difficulty in gaining an audience. indeed, as soon as he had reminded the banker of their former meeting, he was treated with a degree of cordiality that surpassed his expectations. "i remember quite well, sir," said garavel--"'la tosca.' since you are a friend of mrs. cortlandt i shall be delighted to serve you." now that they were face to face, kirk felt that he distinctly approved of chiquita's father. this dignified, distinguished-looking gentleman awaited his pleasure with an air of leisurely courtesy that would have made him under other circumstances very easy of approach. but there was a keenness in his dark eyes that suggested the futility of beating round the bush. kirk felt suddenly a little awkward. "i have something very particular to say to you," he began, diffidently, "but i don't know just how to get at it." garavel smiled graciously. "i am a business man." "this isn't business," blurted kirk; "it's much more important. i want to have it over as quickly as possible, so i'll be frank. i have met your daughter, mr. garavel"--the banker's eyes widened in a look of disconcerting intensity--"and i am in love with her--sort of a shock, isn't it? it was to me. i'd like to tell you who i am and anything else you may wish to know." "my dear sir, you surprise me--if you are really serious. why, you have seen her but once--a moment, at the theatre!" "i met her before that night, out at your country place. i had been hunting, and on my way home through the woods i stumbled upon your swimming-pool. she directed me to the road." "but even so!" "well, i loved her the first instant i saw her." "i knew nothing of this. if you had reason to think that your suit would be acceptable, why did you not come to me before?" "i couldn't. i didn't know your name. i was nearly crazy because i couldn't so much as learn the name of the girl i loved!" kirk plunged confusedly into the story of his search for chiquita. "that is a strange tale," said senor garavel, when he had finished--"a very strange tale--and yet you did well to tell it me. at present i do not know what to think. young men are prone to such romantic fancies, rash and ill-considered. they are, perhaps, excusable, but---" "oh, i suppose you can't understand how a fellow falls so deep in love on such short acquaintance, but i have been brooding over this for months--there's nothing hasty or ill-considered about it, i can assure you. i am terribly hard hit, sir; it means everything to me." "if you would tell me something about yourself, i might know better in what light to regard this affair." "gladly--though there isn't much to tell. just now i'm working on the p.r.r. as assistant to runnels--the master of transportation, you know. i like the work and expect to be promoted. i have a little money--just enough to give me a fresh start if i should lose out here, and--oh, well, i'm poor but honest; i suppose that's about the size of it." he paused, vaguely conscious that he had not done himself justice. what else was there to say about kirk anthony? then he added as an afterthought: "my father is a railroad man, in albany, new york." "in what capacity is he employed, may i ask?" said garavel, showing something like real interest. kirk grinned at this, and, seeing a copy of bradstreet's on the banker's table, turned to his father's name, which he pointed out rather shamefacedly. senor garavel became instantly less distant. "of course the financial world knows darwin k. anthony," said he. "even we modest merchants of the tropics have heard of him; and that his son should seek to win success upon his own merits is greatly to his credit. i congratulate you, sir, upon your excellent progress." "i hope to make good," said kirk, simply, "and i think i can." then he flushed and hesitated as a realization of the situation swept over him. could he gain the favor of chiquita's father under false pretences? surely it was only just that a man should stand upon his own merits, and yet--it didn't seem quite right. at length, he said, with an effort: "i ought to tell you, sir, that i am not on good terms with my father, at present. in fact, he has cast me off. that is why i am here supporting myself by hard work, instead of living in idleness. but i'm beginning to like the work--and i'll make good--i'll do it if only to show my father his mistake. that's what i care about most. i don't want his money. it's easier to make money than i thought. but i must succeed, for his sake and my own." despite his embarrassment, his face shone with sudden enthusiasm. he looked purposeful and aggressive, with a certain sternness that sat well upon his young manhood. garavel lifted his brows. "may i inquire the cause of this--estrangement?" "oh, general worthlessness on my part, i suppose. come to think of it, i must have been a good deal of a cross. i never did anything very fierce, though." he smiled a little sadly. "i don't wonder that i fail to impress you." a quick light of thought flashed through the banker's eyes. he was a keen judge of men. "well, well," he said, with a trace of impatience, "there is no need to go into the matter further. your proposal is impossible--for many reasons it is impossible, and yet--your spirit is commendable." "does that mean you won't even allow me to see your daughter?" "it would be useless." "but i love gertrudis," said kirk, desperately. garavel looked a trifle pitying. "you are by no means the first," he said; "i have been besieged by many, who say always the same thing--without gertrudis they cannot, they will not, they should not live. and yet i have heard of no deaths. at first i was greatly concerned about them--poor fellows--but most of them are married now, so i not do take your words too seriously." he laughed good-naturedly. "you unemotional americans do not love at first sight." "_i_ do, sir." "tut! it is but admiration for a beautiful girl who--i say it--is wicked enough to enjoy creating havoc. take time, my boy, and you will smile at this madness. now, let us talk of something else." "it is no use, sir, i have it bad." "but when you make such a request as this, you assume to know the young lady's wishes in the matter." "not at all. without your consent i don't believe she'd allow herself to even like me. that is why i want to fix it with you first." "in that, at least, you are quite right, for gertrudis is a good girl, and obedient, as a general rule; but--it is impossible. her marriage has been arranged." "do you think that is quite fair to her? if she loves ramon alfarez---" once again garavel's brows signalled surprise. "ah, you know?" "yes, sir. i was about to say, if she really loves him, i can't make any difference; but suppose she should care for me?" "again it could make no difference, once she had married ramon. but she is too young to know her own mind. these young girls are impressionable, romantic, foolish. i can see no object in deliberately courting trouble. can you? in affairs of the heart it is well to use judgment and caution--qualities which come only with age. youth is headstrong and blinded by dreams, hence it is better that marriage should be arranged by older persons." "exactly! that's why i want you to arrange mine." the banker smiled in spite of himself, for he was not without a sense of humor, and the young man's sincerity was winning. "it is out of the question," he said; "useless to discuss. forgetting for the moment all other considerations, there is an obstacle to your marriage into a spanish family, which you do not stop to consider--one which might well prove insurmountable. i speak of religion." "no trouble there, sir." "you are, then, a catholic?" "it was my mother's faith, and i was brought up in it until she died. after that, i--sort of neglected it. you see, i am more of a catholic than anything else." "what we call a 'bad catholic'?" "yes, sir. but if i were not, it wouldn't make any difference. chiquita is my religion." "who?" the father started. "i--i call her that," kirk explained, in confusion. "to myself, of course." "indeed! so do i," said senor garavel, dryly. for a moment he frowned in meditation. there were many things to consider. he felt a certain sympathy for this young man, with his straightforwardness and artless brusquerie. moreover, though the banker was no great respecter of persons, the mention of darwin k. anthony had impressed him. if kirk were all that he seemed, he had no doubt of the ultimate reconciliation of father and son. at all events, it would do no harm to learn more of this extraordinary suitor, and meanwhile he must treat him with respect while carefully guarding his own dignity against possibly impertinent advances. "she has been promised to ramon," he said, at last, "and i have considered her future quite settled. of course, such arrangements are frequently altered for various causes, even at the last moment, but--quien sabe?" he shrugged his shoulders. "she may not wish to entertain your suit. so why discuss it? why make plans or promises? it is a matter to be handled with the greatest delicacy; there are important issues linked with it. where there is the prospect of an alliance between two houses--of business or politics--you will understand that according to our ideas, those considerations must govern--absolutely. otherwise--i do not know--i can say nothing to encourage you except--that, for a young man i have known so very short a time"--he smiled genially--"you have impressed me not unfavorably. i thank you for coming to me, at any rate." the two men rose and shook hands; kirk was not altogether cast down by the result of the interview. he understood the banker's allusion to the possible change of arrangements, and felt sure from what chiquita had told him that the marriage with ramon could not take place after the true nature of garavel's political aspirations became known. in that case, if all went well, it did not seem impossible that garavel would give his consent, and then gertrudis alone would remain to be won. if, on the other hand, her father refused his permission--well, there are many ways of winning a bride. kirk believed in his lucky star, and had a constitutional inability to imagine failure. the truth was that andres garavel had not hesitated long after that memorable night at the tivoli before accepting the brilliant prize which the cortlandts had dangled so alluringly before his eyes, and, the decision once made, he had entered into the scheme with all his soul. he was wise enough, however, to leave his destiny largely in their hands. this meant frequent councils among the three, a vast amount of careful work, of crafty intrigue, of untiring diplomacy, and, although his candidacy had not as yet been more than whispered, the purple robe of power was daily being woven, thread by thread. it was not long after kirk's visit to the bank that garavel, during one of these conferences, took occasion to bring up the young man's name. cortlandt had been called to the telephone, and edith was left free to answer without constraint. "i have seen you and him riding quite frequently," her guest remarked, with polite interest. "is he, then, an old friend?" "yes, we are very fond of him." "your mr. runnels believes him most capable; we were speaking of him but yesterday." "oh, he will be successful, if that's what you mean; i shall see to that. he has his father's gift for handling men---" "you know his father?" "not personally, only by reputation. kirk will be promoted soon, by-the-way, although he doesn't know it. he is to replace runnels as soon as he is able." "remarkable--and yet i have seen the marvels you work, dear lady. but is not this a strange sphere of activity for the son of darwin k. anthony?" "oh, he had some kind of falling-out with his father, i believe, which occasioned his coming here. there was nothing really to kirk's discredit--of that i am perfectly sure." "it would be unfortunate, indeed, if this breach between father and son should prove serious." "oh, i dare say it won't. kirk is certain to succeed, and old anthony will come round, if i know american fathers." garavel smiled, well pleased that he had treated his recent visitor with proper consideration. after all, why not invite the young fellow to his house? that would be rather a significant step according to spanish custom; yet he need not be bound by it. he could put a stop to the affair at any time. besides, despite his frequent protestations to the contrary, he was somewhat influenced by his daughter's desire for more liberty. it was not fair to her, he thought in his heart, that she should know only ramon. one reason especially appealed to his pride. if a break came between him and alfarez, ramon must not appear to have jilted gertrudis. if, meanwhile, she had another suitor, and one of distinguished family, the affair would wear a better look. it cannot be denied that the name of darwin k. anthony rang musically in his ears. "the boy has the right stuff in him," edith went on. "he began at the bottom, only a few months ago, preferring to work his way up, though he was offered a first-rate position to begin with." she would have said more, but just at that moment her husband entered. "you were saying that alfarez suspects," said cortlandt, addressing garavel. "has he said anything?" "not to me, as yet, but he surely must know; the rumors must have reached him. he is cold--and ramon acts queerly. i feel guilty--almost as if i had betrayed a friend." "nonsense! there is no room for fine scruples in politics. we mustn't be in too great a hurry, though. things are going smoothly, and when the time comes you will be called for. but it must be the voice of the people calling. bocas, chiriqui, colon--they must all demand garavel." cortlandt sighed. "i shall be very glad when it is over." he looked more pale, more bloodless, more world-weary than ever. "you need have no fear that it will cause serious trouble between you and the general," mrs. cortlandt assured garavel. "ramon should be able to effect peace, no matter what happens." "ah, i am not so sure that there will be a marriage between gertrudis and him. young ladies are most uncertain when allowed the slightest liberty." "is she growing rebellious?" cortlandt inquired. "if i were you, then, i wouldn't force her. a loveless marriage is a tragic thing." his wife nodded her agreement. "not exactly rebellious. she would do whatever i asked regardless of her own feelings, for that is the way we spaniards bring up our daughters, but--she is cold to ramon, and he, i believe, is suspicious of my intentions toward his father. therefore, the situation is strained. it is very hard to know what is right in a case of this sort. the young are impressionable and reckless. often what seems to them distasteful is in reality a blessing. it is not every love-match that turns out so happily as yours, my dear friends. well, i suppose i am weak. with gertrudis i cannot be severe; but unless it becomes necessary to make conditions with my old friend alfarez, i should prefer to let the girl have her own way." as cortlandt escorted his caller to the door, the panamanian paused and said, with genuine solicitude: "you look badly, sir. i am afraid you work too hard. i would not easily forgive myself if this affair of ours caused you to fall ill." "oh, i am all right--a little tired, that's all. i don't sleep well." "it is worry over this thing." cortlandt smiled crookedly. "i am not the one to worry; i am not the one at the head. surely you know what people say--that i am her office-boy?" garavel found it hard to laugh this off gracefully. "you are too modest," he said. "i admire the trait, but i also chance to know the wonderful things you have accomplished. if people say such things, it is because they do not know and are too small to understand your voluntary position. it is very fine of you to let your wife share your work, senor." but he shook his head as the door closed behind him, really doubting that cortlandt would prove physically equal to the coming struggle. it was about this time--perhaps two weeks after kirk had replied to his father's letter--that runnels called him in one day to ask: "do you know a man named clifford?" "no." "he dropped in this morning, claiming to be a newspaper man from the states; wanted to know all about everything on the canal and--the usual thing. he didn't talk like a writer, though. i thought you might know him; he asked about you." "me?" kirk pricked up his ears. "i gathered the impression he was trying to pump me." runnels eyed his subordinate shrewdly. "i boosted you." "is he short and thick-set?" "no. tall and thin." as kirk merely looked at him in a puzzled way, he continued: "i suppose we're all suspicious down here, there's so much of that sort of thing. if he has anything on you--" "he's got nothing on me." "i'm glad of that. you're the best man i have, and that shake-up i told you about is coming off sooner than i expected. i'd hate to have anything happen to you. do you think you could hold down my job?" "what? do you really mean it?" "i do." "i think i could, if you would help me." runnels laughed. "that remark shows you haven't developed isthmitis, anyhow." "what is that?" "well, it's a sort of mental disorder most of us have. we believe everybody above us is incompetent, and everybody below us is after our jobs. you'll get it in time--even some of the commissioners have it." "it goes without saying that i'd like to be master of transportation, but not until you're through." "well, the old man has had another row with colonel jolson, and may not wait for his vacation to quit. i'm promised the vacancy." "then you have seen the colonel?" "no--but i have seen mrs. cortlandt. i felt i had a right to ask something from her in return for what i did for you. i know that sounds rotten, but you'll understand how it is. colonel jolson wants his brother-in-law, blakeley, to have the place, but i'm entitled to it, and she has promised to fix it for me. if i go up, you go, too; that's why i was worried when this clifford party appeared." "there is something, i suppose, i ought to tell you, although it doesn't amount to much. i was mixed up in a scrape the night i left new york. a plain-clothes man happened to get his head under a falling bottle and nearly died from the effects." "what was the trouble?" "it really wasn't the least bit of trouble, it was fatally easy. we were out on a grape carnival, six of us. it was an anti-prohibition festival, and he horned in." "there is nothing else?" "nothing." "well, this clifford party is stopping at the hotel central. better look him over." "i will," said kirk, feeling more concern than he cared to show, but his apprehension turned out to be quite unfounded. on inspection, clifford proved to bear no resemblance whatever to williams, nor did he seem to have any concealed design. he was a good sort, apparently, with a knack of making himself agreeable, and in the weeks that followed he and kirk became quite friendly. meanwhile, no word had come from senor garavel, and kirk was beginning to fret. but just as he had reached the limit of his patience he received a note which transported him with joy. senor andres garavel, he read, would be in the city on the following tuesday evening, and would be pleased to have him call. even with his recent experiences of spanish etiquette, kirk hardly realized the extent of the concession that had been made to him. he knew nothing of the tears, the pleadings, and the spirited championship of his cause that had overborne the last parental objection. it was lucky for him that chiquita was a spoiled child, and garavel a very americanized spaniard. however, as it was, he went nearly mad with delight, and when tuesday came round he performed his office-work so badly that runnels took him to task. "what the devil has got into you the last few days?" he exclaimed, irritably. "i'm going to see a certain party to-night and i can't contain myself. i'm about to blow up. that's all." "woman, eh?" kirk grinned. "it has taken months, and i'd begun to think i wasn't wanted. oh, i've had a battle." "anybody i know?" "yes, but i can't talk about her. there's a man in the case, see! i'm going slow to start with." runnels, who had never seen kirk with any woman except edith cortlandt, formed his own conclusions, helped a bit, perhaps, by the memory of that conversation with john weeks on the day of their ride across the isthmus. that these conclusions were not pleasing to him, he showed when he returned to his office. he stood an instant in thought, looking rather stern, then murmured, half aloud: "that's one thing i wouldn't stand for." kirk had hard work to refrain from shaving himself twice that evening, so overcareful was he about his toilet, yet his excitement was as nothing compared to that of allan, who looked on with admiration tempered by anxious criticism. the boy, it seemed, appropriated to himself the entire credit for the happy ending of this affair. "it will be a grand wedding, sar," he exclaimed. "h'allan will be there for giving you away." "you don't know enough about me to give me away," kirk returned, lightly. "i shall be needing some h'expensive garments for the ceremony. i would h'ahsk you to be so kind--" "not too fast. it hasn't gone quite that far yet." "but i shall need to have those garments made by a tailor, and that will require time. they will be made precisely to resemble yours, then nobody can tell h'us apart." "that's considered genuine flattery, i believe." "would you do me a favor, master h'auntony?" "surest thing you know." "i shall be waiting in the street to-night. could you h'arrange to h'ahsk those fatal questions h'adjoining the window so that i might h'overhear?" "no! and i don't want you prowling around outside, either. you're not to follow me, understand! i have enough on my mind as it is." the residence of senor garavel is considered one of the show places of panama. it is of spanish architecture, built of brick and stucco, and embellished with highly ornamental iron balconies. it stands upon a corner overlooking one of the several public squares, guarded from the street by a breast-high stone wall crowned with a stout iron fence. diagonally opposite and running the full length of the block is a huge weather-stained cathedral, the front of which is decorated with holy figures, each standing by itself in a separate niche. in the open church tower are great chimes which flood the city with melody, and in the corner fronting upon the intersecting street is a tiny shrine with an image of the madonna smiling downward. it is only a little recess in the wall, with barely room for a few kneeling figures, but at night its bright radiance illumines the darkness round about and lends the spot a certain sanctity. contrary to the usual custom, the garavel mansion has a narrow yard, almost smothered in tropical plants that crowd one another through the iron bars and nod at the passers-by. riotous vines half screen the balconies: great overhanging red-tiled eaves give the place an air of coziness which the verdure enhances. a subdued light was glowing from the lower windows when anthony mounted the steps and rang. an indian woman, clad in barbarous colors, her bare feet encased in sandals, admitted him, and the banker himself met him in the hall. he led the way into a great barren parlor, where, to kirk's embarrassment, he found quite a company gathered. his host formally presented him to them, one after another. there were senor pedro garavel, a brother of andres; senora garavel, his wife, who was fat and short of wind; the two misses garavel, their daughters; then a little, wrinkled, brown old lady in stiff black silk who spoke no english. kirk gathered that she was somebody's aunt or grandmother. last of all, gertrudis came shyly forward and put her hand in his, then glided back to a seat behind the old lady. just as they were seating themselves another member of the family appeared--this time a second cousin from guatemala. like the grandmother, he was as ignorant of english as kirk was of spanish, but he had a pair of frightfully intense black eyes with which he devoured the american. these orbs exercised an unusual effect upon the caller; they were unwinking, the lids were wide open, and the brilliance of the pupils was heightened by the startling whiteness surrounding them. they were like the eyes of a frightened horse. it was very trying to be the target of so many glances and to know that he was being studied like a bug beneath a microscope, yet kirk managed to keep a degree of self-possession, making up his mind to display a modest reticence that could not help appearing admirable. but he soon found that this did not suit. instead of resuming their conversation, the entire assemblage of garavels waited calmly for their caller to begin, and he realized in a panic that he was expected to make conversation. he cast about madly for a topic. his host helped him to get started, and he did fairly well until one of the misses garavel began to translate his remarks to the old lady and the ferocious cousin from guatemala. as their replies were not rendered into english, he was left stranded. he knew that his whole salvation lay in properly impressing his auditors, so he began again and floundered through a painful monologue. it was not at all pleasant. it was like being initiated into some secret order. these strange people sitting so stiff and watchful formed an inquisitorial body. the night suddenly turned off swelteringly hot; perspiration began to trickle down his brow, his collar became a tourniquet, and he cast appealing glances at the silent figure hidden demurely behind the rustly old lady in the black harness. the look of mingled pity and understanding she gave him somewhat revived his fainting spirit, and he determined to stick it out until the family were ready to retire and allow him a word with her alone. but, idle hope! gradually it dawned upon him that they had no such intention. to relieve the strain, he became facetious and told funny stories; but this was an unlucky experiment, for his witticisms fell with a ghastly hollowness. no one laughed save the grandmother and the guatemalan cousin, who could not understand, and at this kirk fled helter-skelter from the realms of humor. by now his collar had given up the struggle and lain limply down to rest. the whole experience was hideous, yet he understood quite well that these people were not making sport of him. all this was only a part of their foreign customs. they were gentlefolk, reared to a different code from his--that was all--and, since he had elected to come among them, he could only suffer and be strong. in time he became sufficiently inured to the situation to take in the details of the room, which were truly markable. to begin with, the parlor walls entirely lacked the sort of decoration to which he was used; the furniture, costly and rare in itself, was arranged stiffly in a square about the room, the precise geometrical centre being occupied by a great urn of impressive ugliness. a richly carved mahogany "what-not" against one wall was laden with sea-shells and other curios. at various points about the room were many statuettes, vases, and figures, of every conceivable size and shape--some of bisque, others of common pottery, a few of exquisite marble--all standing upon the floor. a tremendous french chandelier of sparkling crystal cascaded downward from an american ceiling of pressed metal; at regular intervals around the wall were panels painted to resemble marble. crouched upon a rug in one corner was a life-size figure of what seemed to be a tiger, perfectly colored and made of porcelain. it had tremendous glass eyes, larger even than the cousin's from guatemala, and they shone with a hypnotic intensity that was disturbing. kirk wanted to kick it and cry "scat!" hidden in other desolate quarters of the room were similar studies in animal life. these anomalous surroundings by turns depressed him and provoked an insane desire to laugh. what he ever talked about during that evening he never quite remembered. at one time the cholo girl who had admitted him entered noiselessly, bearing silver plates of fruit, and shortly afterward he found himself trying to balance upon his knee a plate of pineapple soaked in spice and wine, a fork, a napkin starched as stiffly as a sheet of linoleum, and a piece of cake which crumbled at a look. it was a difficult bit of juggling, but he managed to keep one or two of the articles in the air almost continuously. when it came time to leave he expected at least to be allowed a farewell word or two with gertrudis, but instead he was bowed out as ceremoniously as he had been bowed in, and, finding himself at last in the open, sighed with relief. he felt like a paroled prisoner, but he thought of the girl's glance of sympathy and was instantly consoled. he crossed slowly to the plaza, pausing a moment for a good-night look at the house, then, as he turned, he caught a glimpse of a figure slinking into the shadows of the side-street, and smiled indulgently. evidently allan had been unable to resist the temptation to follow, after all, and had hung about hoping to overhear his hero at his best. but when he had reached his quarters he was surprised to find the boy there ahead of him. "how did you beat me home?" he inquired. "i have been waiting h'impatiently ever since you went out. to be sure, i have had one little dream--" "didn't you follow me to the garavels'?" "oh, boss! never would i do such." seeing that the negro was honest, kirk decided that somebody had been spying upon him, but the matter was of so little consequence that he dismissed it from his mind. "and what said your female upon your proposal of marriage?" allan inquired. "praise god, i shall h'expire of suspense if you do not cha-at me the truth." "oh, there was a chorus of her relatives in the room. they sat in my lap all the evening." "perhaps it is fartunate, after all. this senorita is rich 'ooman, and therefar she would be h'expensive for us." kirk managed to drive him forth after some effort, and straightway retired to dream of timid spanish girls who peeped at him from behind old ladies, porcelain tigers that laughed inanely at his jokes, and guatemalan gentlemen with huge hypnotic eyes of glass. xxii a challenge and a confession although runnels had spoken with confidence of the coming shake-up in the railroad organization, it was not without a certain surprise that he awoke one morning to find himself actively in charge of the entire system. he lost no time in sending for kirk, who took the news of their joint advancement with characteristic equanimity. "now, there is nothing cinched yet, understand," the acting superintendent cautioned him. "we're all on probation, but if we make good, i think we'll stick." "i'll do my best to fill your shoes." "and i have the inside track on blakeley, in spite of colonel jolson, so i'm not alarmed. the break came sooner than i expected, and now that we chaps are in control it's the chance of our lifetimes." kirk nodded. "you're entitled to all you get, but i've never quite understood how i managed to forge ahead so fast. why, there are dozens of fellows here who know more than i, and who could do better. i've been mighty lucky." "you don't really call it luck, do you?" runnels looked at him curiously. "i'm not conceited enough to think i'm a downright genius." "why, the cortlandts engineered everything. it was they who arranged your promotion to the office in the first place, and they're behind this last affair. they have stood back of you at every step, and, incidentally; back of me and the other boys." "when you say 'they' you of course mean 'she'." "of course. one has to recognize him, though--as the head of the family. and he really did have a part in it, too; at least, if he had been against us we never would have won." "i can't pretend that i didn't suspect," said kirk slowly, "but i did hope i'd made good on my own merits." runnels laughed. "you have made good all right, or you couldn't go forward; but this is a government job, and fellows like us aren't big enough to get through on our own merits. one has to be a real world-beater to do that. if the cortlandts hadn't backed us, some other chaps with influence would have stepped in above us. take blakeley, for instance. he is nothing extra, and he doesn't know half as much about this business as i do; but he's the brother-in-law of colonel jolson, and he'd have landed the job sure if it hadn't been for our friends. you'd better let your conscience take a nap." "i'd like to show the cortlandts that we appreciate what they've done, but we can't openly thank her without humiliating him. i'd like to give him something." "suppose we give him a quiet little supper, some night, and tell him frankly how grateful we are. he's the sort to appreciate a thing like that, and it would be a delicate way of thanking his wife, too." "good! i'll speak to the other fellows, and now the acting master of transportation is going to shake with the new acting superintendent, and wish him every success." runnels grasped the outstretched hand. "say, anthony," he said, "we're young and we have a start. i have what you lack, and you have what i lack; if we stick together, we'll own a railroad some day. is it a go?" "you bet!" with a warm glow in his breast, the new master of transportation plunged into his duties. he really was making a success, it seemed, although it was a bit disappointing to learn that he owed so much of it to edith cortlandt. at the same time he couldn't help thinking that his efforts had entitled him to reasonable success, and, anyhow, it was pleasant to feel that at no point in his scramble up the ladder had he elbowed off some other man more deserving, perhaps, than he. this last advancement, too, was very timely, for it would surely have its effect upon andres garavel. but his new work brought new troubles and worries. runnels helped him whenever he could, yet kirk was left largely to his own devices, and learned for the first time what real responsibility was like. he began to sleep shorter hours; he concentrated with every atom of determination in him; he drove himself with an iron hand. he attacked his task from every angle, and with his fine constitution and unbounded youthful energy he covered an amazing quantity of work. he covered it so well, moreover, that runnels complimented him. this stress of labor served one purpose for which he was very grateful; it separated him from edith cortlandt and took his mind from that occurrence in the jungle. ever since the day of his last ride with her, he had been tortured with the most unpleasant thoughts. he confessed to forgetting himself briefly that night at taboga, but he had believed that she understood--that she regarded him only as a chum and a companion. therefore her open surrender, coming so unexpectedly had dumfounded him. as he looked back upon the incident now, it seemed inconceivable, yet her words, her expression, her reckless abandon at that moment, were too significant to allow of misunderstanding. still, by dint of determination and stern attention to his tasks, he was able to put the matter almost wholly from his mind. soon after his promotion he received from andres garavel a warmly worded note of congratulation, and some few days later an invitation to dine, which he accepted eagerly. the dinner proved to be another disappointing ordeal, for again he was allowed no opportunity of speaking with gertrudis, and had to content himself with feasting his eyes upon her. but although the family were present en masse, as on the former occasion, they unbent to a surprising degree, and he found them truly gracious and delightful. he realized, nevertheless, that he was under the closest scrutiny and upon the strictest probation. the garavels still held him at a noticeable distance, and he was far from feeling wholly at ease. later in the evening he found himself alone with chiquita and the old spanish lady, and, knowing that the latter could not understand a word of his tongue, he addressed himself to the girl with some degree of naturalness. "i was sorry for you the last time, senor," she said, in reply to his half-humorous complaint, "and yet it was fonny; you were so frightened." "it was my first memorial service. i thought i was going to see you alone." "oh, that is never allowed." "never? how am i going to ask you to marry me?" miss garavel hid her blushing face behind her fan. "indeed! you seem capable of asking that absurd question under any circumstances." "i wish you would straighten me out on some of your customs." "what, for instance?" "why does the whole family sit around and watch me? i don't intend to steal any bric-a-brac. they could search me just as well when i go out." "they wish to satisfy themselves as to your character, perhaps." "yes, but a fellow feels guilty causing them to lose so much sleep." she gave him an odd look, smiling timidly. "as for to-night, do you attribute any meaning to my father's request that you dine with us?" "of course. it means i wasn't blackballed at the first meeting, i suppose. after i've become a regular member, and there is nothing missed from the lodgerooms, i'll be allowed to proceed in the ordinary manner." she blushed delightfully again. "since you are so ignorant of our ways you should inquire at your earliest convenience. i would advise you, perhaps, to learn spanish." "will you teach me? i'll come every evening." she did not answer, for the old lady began to show curiosity, and a conversation in spanish ensued which kirk could not follow. when it came time for their chaperon to leave, she excused herself with royal dignity, and, going to the door, called stephanie, the giant st. lucian woman. not until the negress had entered did the grandmother retire, which showed, so kirk imagined, that even yet the garavel household had no more confidence in him than in a badgeless building inspector. he was not grateful for the change, for he did not like stephanie, and, judging from the sombre suspicion of the black woman's glances, the feeling was mutual. the conversation took perforce a less personal nature in her presence, yet kirk departed with a feeling of exaltation. beyond doubt his suit was progressing, slowly, perhaps, but still progressing. his understanding of spanish customs received a considerable enlargement on the following day, when he met ramon alfarez outside the railroad office. ramon had evidently waited purposely for him, and now began to voice some unintelligible protest in the greatest excitement. "you'll have to play it all over again," kirk advised him. "i'm only just learning to conjugate the verb 'amar.' what seems to be the trouble this time?" "ha! for the moment i forgot your ignorance, but onderstan' this, detestable person, it is time you shall answer to me." "cheerfully! ask your questions slowly." "onderstan' further," chattered the spaniard, "regardless of the 'appenings to me, it shall never come to pass. soch disgraceful occurrence shall never transpire; of that be assure', even if it exac' the las' drops of blood in the veins of me. i 'ave despised you, senor, an' so i 'ave neglec' to keel you, being busy with important affairs of government. bot, 'ow am i reward for those neglec'? eh!" alfarez breathed ferociously through his nostrils. "i don't know, i'm sure. what is your reward?" "very well are you aware, pig." "nix on those pet names," the american ordered, gruffly. "you 'ave insolt me," cried ramon, furiously, "and now you 'ave the insolence to interfere in my affairs." he paused dramatically. "make it yourself ready to fight on to-morrow." "what's the use of putting it off? i couldn't make your weight in that time. i'll do it now, if you say." "no, no! onderstan' we shall fight like gentlemen. i shall keel you with any weapon you prefer." "by jove!" kirk exclaimed, in amazement. "this is a challenge; you want to fight a duel! why, this reads like a book." he began to laugh, at which ramon became white and calm. "listen," kirk went on, "i'll tell you what we'll do; we'll fight with fire-hose again. i suppose you want satisfaction for that ducking." "i prefer to shoot you, senor," the other declared, quietly. "those marriage shall never occur until first i walk upon your dead body. as matter of honor i offer you this opportunity biffore it is too late." "i guess you have been drinking. you're a little premature in talking about my marriage, aren't you?" "so! you fear to confess the truth! oh, i am not to be deceive'. all panama is speaking of those engagements to senorita garavel. come, then, must i insolt you further?" kirk replied, dryly, looking the spaniard over with, cold blue eyes. "no! i think you've gone about far enough." "you riffuse?" exclaimed ramon, triumphantly. "look here!" said kirk, "i've had enough of this." he advanced threateningly, and the spaniard nervously gave way. "i don't fight duels; it's against the law. in my country it's a crime to kill a man in cold blood; and we don't tie a fellow up and beat him when he's helpless and then offer him the honorable satisfaction of either committing murder or being killed. they're not wearing duels this season." his hands clenched involuntarily. "i don't want to hurt you, alfarez, but i may not be able to help it if you don't keep out of my way." he left the fiery little panamanian still scowling and muttering threats, and went his way wondering vaguely how his attentions to chiquita had become so quickly known. he was informed later in the afternoon. as he left the office for the day he was handed a note from mrs. cortlandt requesting him to call at once, and, summoning a coach, he was driven directly to her house. unlike the garavel home, the house which the cortlandts had leased was set upon the water-front, its rear balcony overlooking the sea where it lapped the foundation of the city wall. it was a delightful old place, shut off from the street by a yard filled with flowering plants and shrubs, and, though flanked in true spanish fashion by stores and shops, it was roomy and comfortable. edith kept him waiting a moment before she descended, dressed for her afternoon ride. "you see, i haven't given up my horse in spite of your neglect," she said, as she gave him her hand, "you got my note?" "yes, and i came straight from the office." "i suppose you know what it is about and are wondering how i heard the news." "what news?" "your 'engagement.'" she laughed with an amusement that did not ring quite true. "you're the second one to speak about that. i'm not engaged." "of course not. don't think for a moment i believed it. i was calling on some spanish people this afternoon and heard the report--i admit it was a shock. when i learned the details i knew at once you ought to be told before it developed into something embarrassing. come into the other room; there is a breeze from the water." she led him into the parlor, from which the open windows, shielded now by drawn shutters, gave egress to the rear porch with its chairs and hammock. "dear, dear! you foolish boy, you're always in trouble, aren't you? you really don't deserve to be helped. why, you have avoided me for weeks." "the new arrangement has swamped us with work. i have had no time to go out." "indeed! you had time to run after the first pretty spanish face you saw. i'm really angry, though i suppose i can't blame you. after all, she is charming, in her way." "you mean miss garavel?" "yes. didn't you realize what you were doing?" "i realized what i was trying to do." "naughty! but why select her of all people? there are dozens of others who could amuse you and whose people would not object. andres garavel isn't that sort; he is a rich man, he has political ambitions, he's a very proud sort. now, i suppose i must get you out of this difficulty as best i can. you ought to be more careful." "please!" he said, crossly. "i could understand better what you are talking about if i knew just what this difficulty is." "why, this silly 'engagement' of yours. don't pretend to be so stupid." "ramon alfarez heard that same report, and very courteously invited me to wait a few minutes while he killed me. it's tremendously flattering to be linked up with miss garavel, of course, but i haven't asked her to marry me." "but you've seen her; you have called at her house!" "sure! twice; at the invitation of the old gentleman. all the little garavels were lined up like mourners." "and you dined there last night. is that all you have seen of her?" "n-no! i've seen her at las savannas. that's why i went hunting so often." at this confession, which kirk delivered with sheepish reluctance, mrs. cortlandt drew herself up with an expression of anger. "then this has been going on for some time," she cried. "why, kirk, you never told me!" "why should i?" she flushed at this unconscious brutality, but after a moment ran on bravely; "oh, well, i suppose any man would enjoy that sort of an adventure, particularly with such a pretty girl, but why did you let it go so far? why did you let them commit you?" "am i committed?" her look was half offended, half incredulous. "are you trying to be disagreeable, or is it possible you don't know the meaning of those invitations to call, and to dine with the family, and all that? why, they expect you to marry her. it is all settled now, according to the spanish custom. the whole town is talking about it, i can't understand, for the life of me, how you ever allowed yourself to go there the second time and to dine." seeing the look in his face, she cried, sharply, "you don't mean--that you're in earnest?" she was staring at him as if disbelieving her eyes. "certainly, i'm in earnest." edith turned away abruptly. "i hope you're not joking," said kirk. "jove! i--i'm knocked clear off my pins." a tremendous wave of excitement surged over him. "so, that's what alfarez meant. that's what she meant last night when she told me to look up--" he broke off suddenly, for edith's face had gone chalk-white. "but, kirk, what about me?" she asked, in a strained voice. there was deathlike silence in the room. "you can't love her," said the woman. "why, she's only a child, and she's--spanish." they stood motionless, facing each other. at last kirk said, gravely and deliberately, "yes, i love her better than anything in the world and i want to marry her. i could give up my country, my dad--anything for her." pressing her gloved fingers to her temples she turned her head blindly from side to side, whispering as if to herself: "what will become of me?" "don't," he cried, in a panic, and cast a hurried look over his shoulders. "you'll be overheard--you'll be seen. you don't know what you're saying. where's cortlandt?" "at his club, i suppose. i don't know--i--i don't care." then the paralysis that had numbed her vanished, and she spoke with quivering intensity. "you've been dishonest with me, kirk." "don't act this way," he ordered, roughly. "i'm terribly fond of you, but i never knew--" "you must have known." "i knew nothing. i chose not to think. what i saw i forgot. i supposed you merely liked me as i liked you." "that night at taboga!" she flared up. "what about that? couldn't you tell then? i fought--fought--fought--but i had to give up. you haven't forgotten--those wonderful hours we had together?" she began to sob, but steadied herself with an effort. "you say you didn't know, then what about that afternoon in the jungle? oh, you're not blind; you must have seen a thousand times. every hour we've been alone together i've told you, and you let me go on believing you cared. do you think that was right? now you are shocked because i admit it," she mocked. "well, i have no pride. i am not ashamed. it's too late for shame now. why, even my husband knows." with an exclamation he seized her by the arm. "you don't mean that!" he cried, fiercely. but she wrenched herself away. "why, do you think, i made a man of you? why did i force you up and up and over the heads of others? why are you in line for the best position on the railroad? did you think you had made good by your own efforts?" she laughed harshly. "i took runnels and wade and kimble and the others that you liked and forced them up with you, so you'd have an organization that couldn't be pulled down." "did--did you do all that?" "i did more. i broke with alfarez because of what his son did to you. i juggled the politics of this country, i threw him over and took garavel--garavel! my god! what a mockery! but i won't let you--i won't let that girl spoil my work." her voice trailed off in a kind of rasping whisper. she struggled a moment for composure, then went on: "it was i who promoted you to runnels' position--he'll tell you that. it was i who put ideas of advancement into his head. i fostered this quarrel between jolson and the superintendent, and i've used runnels to break trail for you. why? ask yourself why! oh, kirk," she cried, "you mustn't marry that girl! i'll make you a great man!" "you seem to forget cortlandt," he said, dully. she gave a scornful laugh. "you needn't bring stephen in. he doesn't count. i doubt if he'd even care. our marriage amounts to nothing--nothing. you'd better consider me, and the sacrifice i'm willing to make." "i'm not going to listen to you," he cried. "i suppose i've been a fool, but this must end right here." "you can't marry that girl," she reiterated, hysterically. she was half sobbing again, but not with the weakness of a woman; her grief was more like that of a despairing man. "for heaven's sake, pull yourself together," said kirk. "you have servants. i--i don't know what to say. i want to get out, i want to think it over. i'm--dreadfully sorry. that's all i can seem to think about now." he turned and went blindly to the door, leaving her without a look behind. when he had gone she drew off her riding-gloves, removed her hat, and dropped them both upon the nearest chair, then crept wearily up the stairs to her room. a moment later the latticed wooden blinds at the end of the parlor swung open, and through the front window stepped stephen cortlandt. behind him was a hammock swung in the coolest part of the balcony. the pupils of his eyes, ordinarily so dead and expressionless, were distended like those of a man under the influence of a drug or suffering from a violent headache. he listened attentively for an instant, his head on one side, then, hearing footsteps approaching from the rear of the house, he strolled into the hall. a maid appeared with a tray, a glass, and a bottle. "i could not find the aspirin," she said, "but i brought you some absinthe. it will deaden the pain, sir." he thanked her and with shaking fingers poured the glass full, then drank it off like so much water. "you're not going out again in the heat, sir?" "yes. tell mrs. cortlandt that i am dining at the university club." he went slowly down the steps and out through the flowering shrubs. xxiii a plot and a sacrifice kirk never passed a more unpleasant night than the one which followed. in the morning he went straight to runnels with the statement that he could take no part in the little testimonial they had intended to give cortlandt. "but it's too late now to back out. i saw him at the university club last evening and fixed the date for saturday night." "did you tell him i was in the affair?" "certainly. i said it was your idea. it affected him deeply, too. i never saw a chap so moved over a little thing." kirk thought quickly. perhaps edith had spoken rashly in her excitement, and her husband did not know her feelings after all. perhaps he only suspected. in that case it would never do to withdraw. it would seem like a confession of guilt. "if he has accepted, that ends it, i suppose," he said, finally. "what has happened?" runnels was watching him sharply. "nothing. i merely wish i hadn't entered into the arrangement, that's all. i've ordered a watch for him, too, and it's being engraved. i wanted to give him something to show my own personal gratitude for what he and his wife have done for me. lord! it took a month's salary. i know it's a jay present, but there's nothing decent in these shops." "look here! i've wanted to say something to you for some time, though it's deuced hard to speak of such things. maybe i have more moral scruples than some people, but--" runnels stirred uncomfortably in his chair. "steve cortlandt has put us where we are--you understand, when i speak of him i include his wife, too. well, i like him, kirk, and i'd hate to see him made unhappy. if a chap loves a married woman, he ought to be man enough to forget it. rotten way to express myself, of course--" kirk looked the speaker squarely in the eyes as he answered: "i don't understand what you're driving at. i haven't the least interest in any married man's affairs--never have had, in fact. i'm in love with gertrudis garavel, and i'm engaged to marry her." "the devil!" "it's a fact. i didn't know until last night that i'd been accepted." "then just forget what i said. i was going north on a south-bound track--i ran ahead of orders. i really do congratulate you, old man; miss garavel is--well, i won't try to do her justice--i had no idea. please pardon me." "certainly! now that it's settled i'm not going to let any grass grow under my feet." "why, say! garavel is to be the next president! jove! you are lucky! cortlandt told me last night that the old fellow's candidacy was to be announced saturday night at the big ball; that's how he came to accept our invitation. he said his work would be over by then and he'd be glad to join us after the dance. well, well! your future wife and father-in-law are to be his guests that night, i suppose you know." "then they have patched up a truce with alfarez? i'm glad to hear that." "it's all settled, i believe. this dance is a big special event. the american minister and the various diplomatic gangs will be there, besides the prominent spanish people. it's precisely the moment to launch the garavel boom, and cortlandt intends to do it. after it's over, our little crowd will have supper and thank him for what he has done for us. oh, it will be a big night all around, won't it? do you realize the skyrockety nature of your progress, young man? lord! you take my breath." "it does seem like a dream. i landed here with a button-hook for baggage, and now--say, runnels, her eyes are just like two big black pansies, and when she smiles you'll go off your trolley." "your promotion came just in time, didn't it? talk about luck! we ought to hear from washington before saturday and know that our jobs are cinched. this uncertainty is fierce for me. you know i have a wife and kid, and it means a lot. when you give cortlandt that watch you'll have to present him with a loving-cup from the rest of us. i think it's coming to him, don't you?" "i--i'd rather you presented it." "not much! i can run trains, but i can't engineer social functions. you'll have to be spokesman. i suppose jobs and increased salaries and preferments, and all that, don't count for much with a young fellow who is engaged to the fabulous miss garavel, but with the runnels family it's different. meanwhile, let's just hold our thumbs till our promotions are ratified from headquarters. i need that position, and i'm dying of uneasiness." the night had been as hard for edith cortlandt as it had been for kirk, but during its sleepless hours she had reached a determination. she was not naturally revengeful, but it was characteristic of her that she could not endure failure. action, not words or tears, was the natural outlet of her feelings. there was just one possible way of winning kirk back, and if instead it ruined him she would be only undoing what she had mistakenly done. as soon after breakfast as she knew definitely that her husband had gone out, she telephoned to general alfarez, making an appointment to call on him at eleven. it was the first time she had ever gone to see him, for she was in the habit of bringing people to her, but this was no ordinary occasion, and she knew the crafty old spaniard would be awaiting her with eagerness. her interview with him was short, however, and when she emerged from his house she ordered the coachman to drive directly to the garavel bank. this time she stayed longer, closeted with the proprietor. what she told him threw him into something like a panic. it seemed that anibal alfarez was by no means so well reconciled to the death of his political hopes as had been supposed. on the contrary, in spite of all that had been done to prevent it, he had been working secretly and had perfected the preliminaries of a coup which he intended to spring at the eleventh hour. through ramon, he had brought about an alliance with the outgoing galleo, and intended to make the bitterest possible fight against garavel. such joining of forces meant serious trouble, and until the banker's position was materially strengthened it would be most unwise to announce his candidacy as had been planned. the general had worked with remarkable craftiness, according to mrs. cortlandt's account, and galleo's grip upon the national assembly was so strong as to threaten all their schemes. she did not go into minute details--there was no need, for the banker's fears took fire at the mere fact that alfarez had revolted. he was dumfounded, appalled. "but it was only last week that we were assured that all was well," he cried in despair. she shrugged her shoulders. "one is privileged to change his mind overnight, i suppose. politics is not a child's game." "oh, i am sorry i ever entertained the proposal. to be defeated now would do me immeasurable harm, not only in my pride, but in my business affairs. my affiliations with the government are of the closest--they must be, for me to live. to be a candidate, to make the fight, and to be beaten! what consideration will come to the firm of garavel hermanos, think you?" "not much, but you are not so deeply committed that you cannot withdraw." this cool suggestion brought the expected outburst. "rather than such a disgrace," cried garavel, "i would go to certain defeat. one's pride is not for sale, madame. what has caused this so sudden change of sentiment?" "ramon is partly to blame. he is just as proud as you or as his father. when he heard of your daughter's engagement to our friend anthony--" "ah! now i see it all." his face darkened. "so, this is my reward for heeding your advice in regard to gertrudis. she should have wed ramon, as was intended, then i would have had a lever with which to lift his father from my path. very well, then, there is no engagement with this anthony. it may not be too late even yet to capture ramon." "the city is already talking about gertrudis and kirk." "no word has been spoken, no promise given. there is not even an understanding. it is merely an old custom that has caused this report. he seemed a pleasant fellow, she had dreams, so--i yielded. but do you suppose i would allow my great ambition to be thwarted by the whim of a girl--to be upset by a stranger's smile? bah! at their age i loved a dozen. i could not survive without them." he snapped his fingers. "you see now the truth of what i told you when we first spoke of my daughter. it is the older heads that must govern, always. i should have foreseen this effect, but ramon was offended, and he said too little. now, i admire his spirit; he is desperate; he will fight; he is no parrot to sit by and see his cage robbed. so much the better, since he is the pivot upon which this great affair revolves. you see what must be done?" "certainly." "come! we will see my friend anibal at once." but mrs. cortlandt checked him, saying, quietly: "that is all right as far as it goes, but you forget the other young man." garavel paused in his heavy strides across the room. "eh? how so? gertrudis will not marry this anthony." "perhaps she loves him." "love is a fancy, a something seen through a distant haze, an illusion which vanishes with the sun. in a month, a year, she will have forgotten; but with me it is different. this is my life's climax; there will be no other. i am a garavel; i have looked into the future and i cannot turn back. i think also of panama herself. there are great issues at stake." "but how will you handle anthony?" garavel looked at her blankly. "he is in my way. he is ended! is not that all?" "i am glad you are practical; so many of you latin-americans are absurdly romantic." "and why should i not be practical? i am a business man. i love but two things, madame--no, three: my daughter, my success, and--my country. by this course i will serve all three." "since you take this view of it, i am sure that with ramon's help we can dissuade don anibal from his course. the general is sensible, and doesn't want a fight any more than you do. if your daughter will consent--" "my dear lady, give yourself no uneasiness. she does not know the meaning of rebellion. if necessary--but there is not the slightest question. it is done." "then let me look up ramon. he and i will approach the general together." she gave him her neatly gloved hand. "things are never so bad as they seem." "and i thank you for your promptness, which alone, perhaps, has saved our hopes and our ambitions." he escorted his caller to her carriage, then hurriedly returned to his office. that afternoon kirk received a formal communication from the banker which filled him with dismay. it ran: my dear mr. anthony,--to my extreme distress, i hear a rumor that gertrudis is to become your wife. i assure you that neither she nor i blame you in the least for this unfortunate report; but since busy tongues will wag upon the slightest excuse, we feel it best that no further occasion for gossip should be given, i am sure you will co-operate with us. sincerely and respectfully, your friend, andres garavel. a sense of betrayal crept over him as he read. what the letter signified, beyond the fact that mr. garavel had changed his mind, he could not make out, and he resolved to go at once and demand an explanation. but at the bank he was told that the proprietor had gone home, and he drove to the house only to learn that senor garavel and his daughter had left for las savannas not half an hour before. so, back through the city he urged his driver, across the bridge, and out along the country road. darkness had settled when he returned, raging at the trickery that had been practised upon him. if they thought to gain their point by sending him on wildgoose chases like this, they were greatly mistaken. he proposed to have chiquita now, if he had to burst his way to her through barred doors. never in all his easy, careless life had anything of moment been denied him, never had he felt such bitterness of thwarted longing. reared in a way to foster a disregard of all restraint and a contempt for other people's rights, he was in a fitting mood for any reckless project, and the mere thought that they should undertake to coerce an anthony filled him with grim amusement. he had yielded to their left-handed customs out of courtesy; it was time now to show his strength. what folly he might have committed it is hard to tell, but he was prevented from putting any extravagant plan into operation by a message from the girl herself. as he dismissed his coachman and turned toward his quarters, stephanie came to him out of the shadows. "i have been waiting," she said. "where is chiquita? tell me quickly." "she is at the house. she wants to see you." "of course she does. i knew this wasn't any of her doing. i've been hunting everywhere for her." "at nine o'clock she will be in the plaza. you know the dark place across from the church?" "i'll be there." "if we do not come, wait." "certainly. but, stephanie, tell me what it is all about?" the black woman shook her head. "she is sick," she said, in a harsh voice, "that is all i know. i have never seen her act so." from her expression kirk fancied that she held him responsible for her mistress's sufferings. "now, don't be angry with me," he made haste to say. "i'm sick, too, and you're the only friend we have. you love her, don't you? well, so do i. and i'm going to make her happy in spite of her father and all the rest. run along now, i won't keep you waiting to-night." long before the appointed time he was at the place of meeting, but scarcely had the city chimes rung out nine when he saw two women emerge from the dark side-street next the garavel mansion and come swiftly toward him. he refrained from rushing out to meet them, but when they were close to his place of concealment he stepped forward, with chiquita's name upon his lips and his arms outstretched. she drew away. "no, no, senor!" she cried. "i sent for you because there was no other way--that is all. my father would not let you come to the house. you will not think me bold?" "of course not." "i could not let you go until you knew the truth. you do not--believe it was my fault?" "i don't know what to believe, because i don't know what has happened. all i know is that i got a note from your father. but that won't make me let you go." she clung desperately to the bajan woman as if afraid to trust herself near him. "wait--wait," she said, "until you have heard it all." never had she appeared so beautiful as now, with her face white, her bosom heaving, as the half-light dimly revealed. "no matter what it is, i'll never give you up," he declared, stubbornly. "ah! i feared you would say those very words; but you must do it, just the same. it will be hard for us both, i know--but--" she choked and shook her head as the words refused to come. stephanie laid a great copper hand soothingly upon her shoulder, and growled at kirk in a hoarse, accusing voice: "you see?" "tell me first why i must give you up?" "because, in spite of all, i am to marry ramon," gertrudis said, wretchedly. "who said so?" "my father. he has forbidden me to think of you, and ordered that i marry ramon. sick or well, living or dead, i must marry him." "i'm hanged if you do!" "it is those miserable politics again. if i do not obey, my father cannot be president, do you see?" pausing an instant to master her agitation, she hurried on. "to be president means a great deal to him and to our family; it is the greatest honor that has ever come to a garavel. senor alfarez is terribly angry that i refused to marry his son, to whom since i was a little child i have been engaged. ramon also is furious; he threatened to kill himself. so, it comes to this then: if i will not bind myself to the agreement, senor alfarez will contest the election--i do not know how you say those things--but my father will be defeated--perhaps he will be humbled. many other terrible things which i cannot understand will happen also. if i agree, then there will be no opposition to his plans. he will be president, and i will be a grand lady." "i won't stand for it. they're making you a sacrifice, that's all. what kind of a father is it who would sell his daughter--" "no, no! you do not understand. he is proud, he cannot accept defeat, he would rather give his life than be humiliated. furthermore--he wishes me to marry ramon, and so that ends it." her lips were trembling as she peered up at him to see if he really understood. "let them rave, dear. what does it matter who is president? what does anything matter to you and me?" "he says i am too young to know my own mind, and--perhaps that is true, senor antonio; perhaps i shall soon forget you and learn to love ramon as he loves me, i do not know--" in spite of the pathetic quaver in her voice, kirk cried with jealous bitterness: "you don't seem to object very strongly; you seem to care about as much for alfarez as you do for me. is that it?" "yes, senor," she said, bravely. "you are lying!" declared stephanie, suddenly. the girl burst into a perfect torrent of weeping that shamed him. then, without any invitation, she flung herself recklessly into his arms and lay there, trembling, palpitating like an imprisoned bird. "forgive me, dear," he exclaimed, softly. "i knew better all the time. you mustn't think of doing what they ask; i won't allow it." his own heart-beats were shaking him, and he hardly knew what he was saying. the sight of her grief maddened him. it was as if they had taken advantage of his helpless little maid to hurt her maliciously, and his indignation blazed forth. she looked up with eyes gleaming through her tears and said, brokenly: "senor, i love you truly. you see, i cannot lie." her breath intoxicated him, and he bent his head to kiss her, but stephanie tore her roughly from his arms. the woman showed the strength of a man, and her vulture-like face was working fiercely as she cried: "no! she is mine! she is mine! she is a good girl." "stephanie! she loves me, don't you see?" "no, no!" the black woman drew the girl into the shelter of her own arms. "oh, i am wicked," gertrudis said. "i love you, keerk--yes, i love you very dearly, but my father--he refuses--i must obey--he has the right, and i must do as he wishes." "come with me now. we'll be married to-night," he urged; but she only clung to stephanie more closely, as if to hold herself from falling. "you are very sweet to me," she said, with piteous tenderness, "and i shall never forget the honor; but you see i cannot. this is more to my father than his life; it is the same to all our family, and i must do my duty. i will pray for strength to keep from loving you, senor, and some day, perhaps, the dear god will hear. you must do likewise, and pray also for me to have courage, i could not let you go away thinking this was my doing, so i sent for you. no, one must obey one's people, for they are wise--and good. but one should be honest." the tears were stealing down her cheeks, and she thrilled to his pleadings as to some wondrous music, yet she was like adamant, and all his lover's desperation could not shake her. it was strange to see this slender, timid slip of a girl so melting and yet so cruelly firm. he appealed to stephanie, but she was as unresponsive as a bronze image. seeing that his urging only made matters worse, he said, more gently: "you are exalted now with the spirit of self-sacrifice, but later you will see that i am right. i am not discouraged. a thousand things may happen. who knows what to-morrow may bring? let's wait and see if we can't find a way out. now that i know you love me, i have the courage to face anything, and i am going to win you, chiquita. i have never lost in all my life, and i don't intend to begin now. i'll see your father in the morning, and i'll be here again, to-morrow night--" but at this gertrudis cried out: "no, no! i cannot meet you again in this manner." and stephanie nodded her agreement. "then i'll see you the next night, that is saturday. you are coming to the big ball at the tivoli with him and the cortlandts--i must see you then, so make sure to be there, and meanwhile don't give up." "oh, there is no hope." "there is always hope. i'll think of something." "we must go," said the barbadian woman, warningly. "yes, yes! it is of no avail to resist," came the girl's choking voice. she stretched out her little hand, and then, looking up at him, said, uncertainly: "i--may never speak with you again alone, senor, and i must pray to--cease loving you; but will you--kiss me once so that i may never forget?" he breathed a tender exclamation and took her gently to his breast, while the negress stood by scowling and muttering. the memory of that long, breathless moment lived with him for years. strangely enough, at the touch of her lips he felt his courage forsake him--it ran out like water. he became weak, fearful, despairing, as if it were his life that was ebbing away. and the pang when she drew herself from him was like a bayonet-thrust. even when she and stephanie had melted into the shadows, he stood motionless under the spell of that caress, its ecstasy still suffusing him. he found himself following slowly in the direction they had taken in the hope of catching just one more glimpse of her, but as he emerged from the darkness of the park he paused. there across the street, in the little open shrine set in the corner of the great cathedral, she was kneeling before the shining figure of the madonna. the candle-glow that illumined the holy image and shone out so hopefully against the gloom showed her crouched close before the altar, her dark head bowed in uttermost dejection. outside, and barely revealed, stood the tall, gaunt bajan woman, silent, watchful, and forbidding. with a painful grip at his throat kirk watched until the girl rose and hurried away into the shadows. then he, too, turned and made his way up the street, but he went slowly, unseeingly, as if he had beheld a vision. for the first time in his life he was a prey to fear. a thousand panics clamored at him, his mind began working with the exaggerated speed of a person in dire peril. once more, as upon that night when he had first called at her father's house, he turned abruptly at the corner to stare at her window, and again he surprised a figure skulking after him. without a moment's hesitation he made after it at a run, but the fellow dodged into the plaza and disappeared among the shrubbery. not caring to pursue the chase into those lurking shadows kirk desisted, certain only of one thing--that he was not allan who was trailing him. he recalled the oft-repeated threats of ramon alfarez, and returned to his quarters by way of the lighted thoroughfares. xxiv a business proposition edith cortlandt's interview with the rival candidates for the panamanian presidency formed but a part of her plan. she next held a long conversation with colonel jolson, to the end that on friday morning runnels heard a rumor that threw him into the greatest consternation. it was to the effect that instead of his succeeding to the office of superintendent, he was to retain his old post, and that colonel jolson's brother-in-law was to supersede him. although the word was not authoritative, it came with sufficient directness to leave him aghast. if true, it was, of course, equivalent to his discharge, for it meant that he could not even continue in his former position without putting himself in a light intolerable to any man of spirit. since he was entitled to the promotion, had been promised it, in fact, and had made his plans accordingly, there was no course open except resignation. if he did not resign voluntarily, he knew that his new superior would eventually force him to do so, for blakeley would build up an organization of his own, and in it there would be no place for one who had aspired to the highest office. inasmuch as his assistant was concerned in this threatened calamity, runnels made haste to lay the matter before him. at first kirk was inclined to take it as a joke, but his friend quickly brought him to a more serious frame of mind. "no," he said, "blakeley has finally put it over. he's wanted this position for a long time, and i guess the cortlandts weren't strong enough to prevent it--or else they have broken with the colonel." "didn't he promise you the job?" "sure! but what are promises? i've been double-crossed, that's all. it means i must quit." "of course. i'm trying to figure out what it will mean to me." runnels smiled grimly. "the same thing it would mean to me if i stayed, i'd go back to my desk; in a month i'd have a row with blakeley, no matter what i did; then i'd be fired and have a tough time getting a job with another railroad. of course, the cortlandts might do more for you than they would for me, and you might be able to hang on." "then this would seem to end our fine hopes, eh?" "rather!" runnels broke out, bitterly. "i've worked like a nigger, kirk, and i deserve promotion if anybody ever did. this other fellow is a dub--he has proven that. why, i've forgotten more railroading than he'll ever know. every man on the system hates him and likes me; and on top of it all i was promised the job. it's tough on the wife and the kid." he stopped to swallow his emotion. he was a single-purposed, somewhat serious man, a little lacking in resilience, and he could not meet misfortune with kirk's careless self-confidence. "i gave this job the best i had in me," he went on, "for i had the idea that i was doing something patriotic, something for my country--that's the way they used to talk about this canal, you know. i've put in four years of hell; i've lost step with the world; i've lost my business connections in the states; and i haven't saved up any money, i can't quit, and yet i'll have to, for if i'm fired it'll mean i'll have to go back there and start at the bottom again. those people don't know anything about these damned politics; they'll think i made a failure here in government work, and i'll have to live it down. still, i suppose i ought not to kick--it's happening all the time to other fellows who came down here with hopes as high as mine--fellows who have given even more to the job than i have. what are you going to do?" kirk started. "oh, i don't know. i was thinking about you. this job doesn't worry me, for i'm on my feet at last, and i know i have the goods with me--they can have my position and welcome. now, about you. i haven't spent much of that lottery coin. it's in the bank, all that allan hasn't used, and half of it is yours, if you'll take it. you and mrs. runnels and the kid, and allan and i--and one other party--will hike back home and get something else to do. what do you say?" runnels' voice shook as he answered: "by jove! you're the--real stuff, anthony. i'll think it over." he turned away as if ashamed of his show of feeling, only to whirl about with the question, "who is this 'other party'?" "my wife." "good lord! you're not married?" "no, but i'm going to be. you talk about your troubles; now listen to mine. i'll make you weep like a fog." briefly he told his friend of the blow that had so suddenly fallen upon him. "you are up against it, old man," agreed runnels, when he had heard all. "garavel has set his heart on the presidency, and he'll pay any price to get it. it's the same all over central america; these people are mad on politics. there are never more than two parties, you know--the wanters and the hasers. the wanters are out and the hasers are in; that's what makes these wicked little revolutions at every change of the moon--it isn't a question of policy at all. now, if miss gertrudis were an american girl, she might rebel, elope, do something like that, but she's been reared with the spanish notions of obedience, and i dare say she will submit tamely because she doesn't know how to put up a fight. that's an admirable characteristic in a wife, but not very helpful in a sweetheart." "well, she's half american," said kirk. "what do you mean by that?" "i mean the game isn't over. i carried the ball forty yards once for a touchdown in the last ten seconds of play, and yale won. i had good 'interference' then, and i need it now. somebody'll have to run ahead of me." runnels smiled. "i guess you can count on me. what is the plan?" for the next half-hour the two talked earnestly, their heads together, their voices low. "i don't believe it will work, my boy," runnels said at last. "i know these people better than you, and yet--lord! if it does come off!" he whistled softly. "well, they may kick the political props out from under us, but there will be an awful crash when we hit. now, don't mention this rumor about blakeley. i want to see steve cortlandt first." "cortlandt! by-the-way, do you happen to remember that he's to be our guest for supper to-morrow night? kind of a joke now, trying to thank him for what he's done, isn't it?" "not at all. it may be our one chance of salvation; he may be the one person who can help us." "well," kirk reflected, "i have a good deal to thank him for, i suppose, outside of this, and i'll go through with my part." he proceeded at once to put his plan into execution, his first step being to rent a room at the tivoli, taking particular care to select one on the first floor in the north wing. that evening he and allan moved. it was a simple process, yet he felt that he was engaged in the most momentous act of his hie. as to its outcome much depended upon runnels and much more upon himself--so much, in fact, that when he came to look at the matter coldly he confessed the hope of success was slender. but such as it was he clung to it desperately. runnels telephoned during the evening that he had been equal to his part of the task, so there remained nothing to do but wait for the hour of the dance. over and over anthony asked himself if he were not foolish to pin his faith to so slight a chance, but he could find no answer. he slept little amid his new surroundings that night, and awoke saturday morning thrilled with the certainty that his life's crisis was but a few hours away. it was considerably after dark on saturday evening that john weeks, american consul at colon, received a caller who came to him direct from the royal mail steamer just docked. at first sight the stranger did not impress mr. weeks as a man of particular importance. his face was insignificant, and his pale-blue eyes showed little force. his only noticeable feature was displayed when he removed his hat. then it could be seen that a wide, white scar ran from just over his temple to a point back of his right ear. he made his name known as williams, which, of course, meant nothing to the consul, and while drinking one of weeks' high-balls, inquired idly about the country, the climate, and the people, as if in no hurry to come to his point. weeks watched him shrewdly, convinced at last by his visitor's excessive caution that his first judgment had been wrong, and that the man was more knowing than he seemed. mr. williams was likewise studying the fat man, and when he had satisfied himself, came out openly with these words: "i'm looking for a chap named wellar. he landed here some time late in november." "friend of yours?" "um--m--not exactly." mr. williams ran a hand meditatively over the ragged scar on his scalp, as if from force of habit. "wellar? i never heard of him." "he may have travelled under another name. ever hear of a fellow called locke?" the consul's moist lips drew together, his red eyes gleamed watchfully. "maybe i have, and maybe i haven't," said he. "why do you want him?" "i heard he was here. i'd enjoy meeting him again." "what does he look like?" mr. williams rattled off a description of kirk anthony so photographic that the consul suddenly saw a great light. "yes, i know him all right," he confessed, warmly. "he's a good friend of mine, too; in fact, he lived with me for a while." misconstruing the eager expression that came to his caller's face, he rose heavily and thrust out a thick, wet hand. "don't let's beat about the bush, mr. anthony; your son is safe and well and making a name for himself. i'm happy to say i helped him--not much, to be sure, but all i could--yes, sir, i acknowledge the corn--and i'm glad to meet you at last. i have been waiting for you to arrive, and i'm glad you dropped in on me. i have a lot of things to talk about." but the other stared upward impatiently. "no, no! you've got me wrong. i'm a detective, and i'm after your friend wellar, alias locke, alias anthony. he's wanted for embezzlement and assault and a few other things, and i'm going to take him." the indistinctive mr. williams spoke sharply, and his pale blue eyes were suddenly hard and bright. weeks stared open-mouthed for an instant. "then you're really not darwin k. anthony?" he gasped. "certainly not. here's the warrant. i'm sorry this chap is your pal, but--" "my pal! hell, i hate him like the smallpox. good thing you spoke or i'd have sold you a cocoanut grove. i knew he was wrong. embezzler, eh? well, well!" "eighty thousand, that's all, and he's got it on him." "you're wrong there; he was broke when he landed. i ought to know." "oh no! he came down on the santa cruz; i've seen the purser. he travelled under the name of jefferson locke. there's no mistake, and he couldn't have blown it all. no, it's sewed into his shirt, and i'm here to grab it." weeks whistled in amazement. "he is a shrewd one. eighty thou--lord, i wish i'd known that! he's here, all right, working for the railroad and living at panama. he's made good, too, and got some influential friends. oh, this is great!" "working, hey? clever stall! do you see that?" williams inclined his head for a fuller display of the disfiguration over his ear. "he hung that on me, with a bottle. i damn near died." he laughed disagreeably. "he'll go back, and he'll go back quick. how do i get to panama?" weeks consulted his watch hastily. "you've missed the last train; but we'll go over together in the morning. i want to have a hand in this arrest for reasons of my own; i don't like him or his influential friends." he began to chuckle ponderously. "no, i don't like his influential friends, in particular." while this scene was being enacted on the north side of the isthmus, kirk anthony, over at the tivoli hotel, was making himself ready for the ball with particular pains. even his personal appearance might have a bearing upon the outcome of this adventure, and he dared not overlook the slightest advantage. allan regarded him admiringly from many angles. "oh, master h'auntony," he exclaimed, rapturously, "you are beautiful!" "thanks! again thanks! now, can you remember to do as i have told you?" "i would die--" "don't say that again, i'm too nervous. here are your instructions, once more. keep both doors to this room locked and stand by the one to the veranda! don't let any one in except mr. runnels and the man he'll bring. don't--leave--this--spot, no matter what happens. does that penetrate your teakwood dome? does your ivory cue-ball encompass that thought?" "i shall watch this h'apartment carefully, never fear." "but i do fear. i'm scared to death. my hands are go cold they are brittle. remember, when i knock, so, let me in instantly, and keep your wits about you." "h'allan never fails, sar. but what is coming to pahss?" "never mind what is coming to pass. this is going to be a big night, my boy--a very big night." kirk strolled out into the hall and made his way to the lobby. already the orchestra was tuning up, the wide porches were filling with well-dressed people, while a stream of coaches at the door was delivering the arrivals on the special from colon. it was a very animated crowd, sprinkled plentifully with spanish people--something quite unusual, by-the-way--while the presence of many uniforms gave the affair almost the brilliance of a military function. there were marine officers from bas obispo, straight, trim, brown of cheek; naval officers from the cruisers in the roadstead, clad in their white trousers and bell-boy jackets; army officers detailed from washington on special duty; others from the various parts of the work itself. kirk wandered about through the confusion, nodding to his friends, chatting here and there, his eyes fixed anxiously upon the door. clifford approached and fell into conversation with him. "great doings, eh? i came up from the central just to see what these affairs are like. did you see to-night's paper?" "no." "garavel is going to run for president. this is a kind of political coming-out party." "so i believe." "it looked like a fight between him and general alfarez, but they've patched it up, and the general is going to withdraw. garavel is to have uncle sam's congratulations and co-operation. it's a joke, isn't it, this international good feeling?" "excuse me." anthony saw runnels searching the room with anxiety. he hurried toward him and inquired, breathlessly: "have you got him?" "sure, i showed him your room." "did you lock him in?" "certainly not." "he'll get away." "oh no, he'll be on the job. has she come?" kirk shook his head. "gee! i'm nervous." he wiped his brow with a shaking hand. "don't weaken," runnels encouraged. "i'm beginning to believe you'll pull it off. i told my wife all about it--thought we might need her--and she's perfectly crazy. i never saw her so excited. let me know as soon as you can which dance it will be. this suspense--gad! there they are now! go to it, old man." into the lobby came a mixed group, in which were andres garavel, his daughter, ramon alfarez, and the cortlandts. kirk's face was white as he went boldly to meet them, but he did his best to smile unconcernedly. he shook hands with edith and her husband, bowed to gertrudis, then turned to meet her father's stare. "may i have a word with you, sir?" garavel inclined his head silently. as the others moved on he said: "this is hardly a suitable time or place, mr. anthony." "oh, i'm not going to kick up a fuss. i didn't answer your note, because there was nothing to say. you still wish me to cease my attentions?" "i do! it is her wish and mine." "then i shall do so, of course. if miss garavel is dancing to-night i would like your permission to place my name on her programme." "no!" exclaimed the banker. "purely to avoid comment. every one knows i have been calling upon her, and that report of our engagement got about considerably; it would set people talking if she snubbed me. that is the only reason i came to this dance. believe me, i'd rather have stayed away." "perhaps you are right. let us have no unpleasantness and no gossip about the affair, by all means. i consent, then." garavel's voice altered and he said, with more of his natural geniality, "i am very glad you take the matter so sensibly, mr. anthony; it was, after all, but a dream of youth." "and permit me to offer my congratulations upon the honor your country is about to bestow upon you." conversing in a friendly manner, they followed the rest of the party. as the banker appeared upon the threshold of the ballroom a murmur ran through the crowd; faces were turned in his direction, whispers were exchanged, showing that already the news had travelled. conscious of this notice and its reason, garavel drew himself up; he walked with the tread of an emperor. kirk ignored ramon's scowl as he requested the pleasure of seeing chiquita's programme; then pretended not to notice her start of surprise. after a frightened look at her father, she timidly extended the card to him, and he wrote his name upon it. as he finished he found mrs. cortlandt regarding him. "will you dance with me?" he inquired. "yes. i saved the fourth and the tenth." as he filled in the allotted spaces, she said, in a low voice, "you are the boldest person! did mr. garavel give you leave to do that, or--" "of course! thank you." he made his way out of the press that had gathered and toward the open air. he was shaking with nervousness and cursed all government hotels where a man is denied the solace of a drink. runnels pounced upon him just outside. "well, well, quick! did you make it?" "number nine." "good! i was gnawing my finger-nails. whew! i'm glad that is over. now pull yourself together and don't forget you have the first dance with mrs. runnels. there goes the music. i--i'm too rattled to dance." anthony found his friend's wife bubbling with excitement, and scarcely able to contain herself. "oh, i'll never live through it, i know," she cried, as soon as they were out upon the floor. "how can you be so calm?" "i'm not. i'm as panicky as you are." "and she, poor little thing! she seems frightened to death." "but--isn't she beautiful?" mrs. runnels admitted the fact cheerfully, and at the same time noted how her partner's muscles swelled and hardened as miss garavel glided past in the arms of ramon alfarez. it gave her a thrill to see a real drama unfolding thus before her very eyes. to kirk, chiquita had never appeared so ravishing, nor so purely spanish as to-night. she was clad in some mysterious filmy white stuff that floated about her form like a mist. the strangeness and brilliance of her surroundings had frightened her a little, and the misery at her heart had filled her wide, dark eyes with a plaintive melancholy. but she was entirely the fine lady through it all, and she accepted the prominence that was hers as the leading senorita of the republic with simple dignity and unconcern. the women began to whisper her name, the men followed her with admiring glances. at every interval between dances she was besieged by gayly clad officers, civilians in white--the flower of her own people and of the american colony as well--all eager to claim her attention or to share in her shy, slow smile. now and then her eyes strayed to kirk with a look that made his blood move quicker. it boded well for the success of his plans, and filled him with a fierce, hot gladness. but how the moments dragged! general alfarez entered the room amid a buzz of comment. then, as he greeted his rival, garavel, with a smile and a handshake, a round of applause broke forth. the members of the commission sought them both out, and congratulations were exchanged. at last the garavel boom was launched in earnest. mrs. cortlandt expressed a desire to sit out the fourth dance. "so, your engagement to miss garavel is broken?" she began, when she and kirk had seated themselves in two of the big rockers that lined the porch. "all smashed to pieces, running-gear broken, steering-knuckle bent, gasolene tank punctured. i need a tow." "you take it calmly." "what's the use of struggling? i'm no samson to go around pulling down temples." "did you expect her to yield so tamely?" "i didn't know she had yielded. in fact, i haven't had a chance to talk to her." "but she has. mr. garavel told me not an hour ago that as soon as he explained his wishes she consented to marry ramon without a protest." "a refusal would have meant the death of the old man's chances, i presume. she acted quite dutifully." "yes. if she had refused ramon, i doubt if we could have saved her father. as it is, the general withdraws and leaves the field clear, the two young people are reunited, quite as if you had never appeared, and you--my dear kirk, now what about you?" "oh, i don't count. i never have counted in anything, you know. that's the trouble with good-natured people. but is it true that garavel is practically elected?" "general alfarez couldn't very well step in after he had publicly stepped out, could he? that would be a trifle too treacherous; he'd lose his support, and our people could then have an excuse to take a hand. i'm tremendously glad it's all settled finally, i assure you. it was a strain; and although i'm sorry you got your fingers pinched between the political wheels, i'm relieved that the uncertainty is ended." so far they had been speaking like mere acquaintances, but now kirk turned upon her a trifle bitterly. "i think you worked it very cleverly, mrs. cortlandt," he said. "of course, i had no chance to win against a person of your diplomatic gifts. i had my nerve to try." she regarded him without offence at this candor, then nodded. "yes. you see, it meant more to me than to you or to her. with you two it is but a romance forgotten in a night. i have pretty nearly outlived romance." "you think i will forget easily? that's not flattering." "all men do. you will even forget my part in the affair, and we will be better friends than ever." "suppose i don't choose to accept what it pleases people to hand me?" "my dear kirk!" she smiled. "you will have to in this case. there is nothing else to do." he shook his head. "i hoped we could be friends, mrs. cortlandt, but it seems we can't be." at this she broke out, imperiously, her eyes flashing. "i ask nothing you can't give. i have never been denied, and i won't be denied now. you can't afford to break with me." "indeed! why do you think that?" "listen! i've shown you what i can do in a few months. in a year you can be a great success. that's how big men are made; they know the short-cuts. you are too inexperienced yet to know what success and power mean, but you are beginning to learn, and when you have learned you will thank me for breaking up this foolish romance. i don't ask you to forget your manhood. i ask nothing. i am content to wait. you want to become a big man like your father. well, runnels will be out of the way soon; blakeley amounts to nothing. you will be the superintendent." "so! that's not merely a rumor about blakeley? runnels is fired, eh?" "yes." "if i choose not to give up chiq--miss garavel, then what? it means the end of me here, is that it?" "if you 'choose'! why, my dear, you have no choice whatever in the matter. it is practically closed. you can do nothing--although, if you really intend to make trouble, i shall walk inside when i leave and inform the old gentleman, in which case he will probably send the girl home at once, and take very good care to give you no further opportunity. ramon is only too anxious to marry her. as to this being the end of you here, well, i really don't see how it could be otherwise. no kirk, it's for you to decide whether you wish to be shown the secret path up the mountain or to scale the cliffs unaided. there are no conditions. you merely mustn't play the fool." "and if i don't agree you will tell mr. garavel that i'm going to make trouble?" he mused aloud, watching her out of the corner of his eye. she said nothing, so he went on cautiously, sparring for time. "well, inasmuch as this seems to be a plain business proposition, suppose i think it over. when it comes time for our next dance, i'll say yes or no." "as you please." "very well. the music has stopped; we'd better go in." as they rose she laid her hand upon his arm and he felt it tremble as she exclaimed: "believe me, kirk, this isn't at all easy for me, but--i can't bear to lose." xxv checkmate! anthony had no partner for the eighth dance, and was very glad of it, for he could not have carried off the necessary small talk. as it was, he felt that his excitement must be patent to those around him. his mind was filled with tormenting doubts, his chance for success seemed so infinitely small, his plan so extravagantly impracticable, now that the time had come! as the music ceased and the dancers came pouring out into the cool night air, runnels approached with his wife. "well, are you equal to it?" he asked. kirk nodded; he could not speak. "why, you look as cold as ice," exclaimed the woman, half-resentfully. "i'm the only one who seems to feel it. i--i'm positively delirious. my partners look at me in the strangest way, as if they thought i were liable to become dangerous at any moment." "not too loud!" her husband cautioned, then to kirk: "good-luck, old man. lord! i need a bracer." his words stuck in his throat, and kirk realized that he was himself the calmest of the three. together, runnels and his wife strolled off through the crowd, disappearing in the direction of the north wing of the hotel. it seemed ages before the orchestra struck up; kirk began to fear that something had happened to the musicians. he edged closer to the door and searched out chiquita with his eyes. there she was, seated with her father, colonel bland from gatun, and some high officer or other--probably an admiral. ramon alfarez was draped artistically over the back of her chair, curling his mustache tenderly and smiling vacantly at the conversation. kirk ground his teeth together and set his feet as if for the sound of the referee's whistle. he heard the orchestra leader tap his music-stand; then, as the first strains of the waltz floated forth, he stepped into the ballroom and made toward his sweetheart. all at once he found that his brain was clear, his heart-beats measured. of course she saw him coming; she had waited all the long evening for this moment. he saw her hand flutter uncertainly to her throat; then, as he paused before her, she rose without a word. his arm encircled her waist, her little, cold palm dropped into his as lightly as a snowflake, and they glided away together. he found himself whispering her name over and over again passionately. "why--why did you do this, senor?" she protested, faintly. "it is very hard for me." "it is the last time i shall ever hold you--this way." she faltered, her breath caught. "please! my father is looking. ramon--" "have you agreed to marry him?" "yes! no no! oh, i have prayed to the virgin every hour. i cannot, and yet i must. see! i cannot waltz, senor, i have s-stepped upon you. take me back to my seat." for answer he pressed her closer to his breast, holding her up without effort. the incense from her hair was robbing him of his wits, his old wild desire to pick her up and carry her away swept over him. "don't--esqueeze--me--so!" she exclaimed. "i cannot hold back--the tears. i am so unhappy. if i could die quickly--now." "let us go out on the porch." "no, no! we must remain in my father's sight. will you take me to my seat?" "no, i want you to listen carefully to what i'm going to say." he spoke low and earnestly. "try to show nothing in your face, for they are watching us." seeing her more composed and attentive, he went on: "don't stop dancing now, when i tell you. chiquita dear, you must marry me, to-night, right away! i have arranged everything. no, don't look up at me until i have finished. try to smile. i've planned it all out and everything is in readiness. i have a room just around the corner of the veranda; there's a judge waiting for us, and runnels and his wife--" "you are mad!" she gasped. "no, no. we'll slip through one of the french windows, and we'll be back again before they miss us. nobody will know. i tell you they're waiting. if we are missed they'll think--it doesn't matter what they think, you'll be my wife, and ramon can't marry you then. we'll say nothing about it until your father is elected president." "senor, one cannot be married in a moment. i am catholic--the banns--" "i've thought of all that, but a civil marriage is binding. we'll have the religious ceremony afterward; meanwhile this will stop ramon, at least. i promise not to see you again until you send for me, until your father's hopes are realized. you may wait as long as you wish, and nobody will know. they tricked you, chiquita dear; i can't explain, but it wasn't all politics, by any means. oh, girl! don't you understand, i love you--love you? it's our only chance." the words were tumbling from his lips incoherently; he was pleading as if for his life, while she clung to him to support herself. through it all their feet moved rhythmically, their bodies swayed to the cadences of the waltz as they circled the ballroom. he guided her among the other whirling figures, under the very eyes of her father and her fiance, while more than one of the onlookers commented upon the handsome appearance of these young people, the one so stalwart and blond and northern, the other so chic and dark and tropical. he knew it was her lifelong loyalty, her traditional sense of obedience, that made her hesitate. "it was treachery to both of us," he urged; "they imposed upon your father, but when he has won he'll forgive us. i know what i'm saying; mrs. cortlandt told me to-night." "mother of god!" she exclaimed, faintly. "is it that i am dreaming?" "they are waiting for us; the dance is half over already. i love you--better than all the world. do you remember two nights ago? you kissed me then, and--i--i can't live without you. we'll go away together, you and i, through all the world--just we two." she trembled against him. "quick!" he cried in her ear. "we're coming to the spot. they can't see us now. if you feel weak, hold to my arm until we are outside." she gave a hysterical, choking sob that was half a sigh; then her eyes flashed upward to his--they were wide and bright and shining--her lips were parted, her body was lithe and full of life. she slipped from his embrace, whispering: "yes, yes! quickly, senor!" and the next instant they were out upon the wide gallery with the dance behind them. "hurree, hurree! or they will follow." together they fled along the north wing of the hotel; the girl was panting, with one hand held to her bare throat; but there was no need for him to help her, for she ran like a fawn. "here!" he swung her around the corner and rapped sharply at a door. "quickly! quickly!" she moaned. "for the love of--" with terrific force the door was fairly jerked from its hinges and slammed to behind them. the next moment allan's big body was leaning against it, as if the wall were about to fall inward upon him. runnels leaped forward with an exclamation, his wife stood staring, her face as white as snow. with them was the genial gray-haired judge from colon, whom kirk had met at the wayfarers club on the night of his arrival. "you made it!" runnels cried, triumphantly. "miss garavel!" his wife echoed. "thank heaven you came!" "quick, the music will stop! judge, this is miss garavel--you must marry us just as fast as you can." "i presume you consent?" the judge asked, with a smile at the girl. "i--i want to be happy," she said, simply. her bosom was heaving, her pansy eyes were fastened upon the magistrate with a look of pleading that drove the smile from his lips. she clung to anthony's arm as if she feared these strangers might tear him away. "you understand, judge, she's of age; so am i. they want to force her to marry a man she doesn't--" the muffled strains of music ceased. there came the faint clapping of hands. "madre de dios!" miss garavel cried. "we are too late." she beat her little palms together in desperation. there was a breathless interval. then the music began again, and to its throbbing measures the marriage ceremony was performed. as the last word was pronounced, mrs. runnels burst into tears and hid her face against her husband's breast. runnels himself held forth a shaking hand to kirk, then patted the bride clumsily upon her shoulder. "i know you will be happy now, mrs. anthony," he said. with an incoherent cry of delight, kirk folded his wife in his arms, and she kissed him before them all. "senor, i will love you always," she said, shyly. during the progress of this scene, allan allan of jamaica had stood frozen with amazement, a door-knob wedged firmly into the small of his back, his eyes distended and rolling; but when mrs. runnels collapsed, as at a signal he too dissolved in tears. "oh, glory to god, boss," he sobbed, "you is a beautiful bridegroom!" "come, we must get back, the music has stopped again." kirk turned to the judge. "nothing is to be said until miss gar--mrs. anthony gives the word; you understand? i can't thank you all half enough. now, allan, see if the coast is clear, quickly!" he was still in a panic, for there yet remained a chance of discovery and ruin. one more instant of suspense, then the two stepped out; the door closed softly behind them and they strolled around the corner of the north wing and into the crowd. it had all happened so quickly that even yet they were dazed and disbelieving. "my wife!" kirk whispered, while a tremendous rush of emotion swept over him. she trembled in answer like a wind-shaken leaf. "you're mine, chiquita! they can't take you away." his voice broke. "i am still dreaming. what have i done? oh-h--they will know; in my face they will read the truth. but i do not care. is--it indeed true?" they were at the entrance to the ballroom now, through which they had come a few minutes before, and, pausing, she gave him a half-serious, half-timid glance. "senor, i do not know if some time you will be sorry for this action, but i shall never cease loving you. i prayed hourly to the blessed virgin, and she heard. now, i shall perish until you come." "when you give me leave; through steel and stone, through fire and water." "quick, for the one more time, call me--that--" she hesitated, blushing vividly. "i will hear it in my dreams." "my wife!" he whispered, tenderly. "ho! chiquita mia!" her father cried, as they came to him. "there you are then. i have missed you." his eyes smouldered as he gazed suspiciously at kirk. "ah, but i was too warm," she said, easily. "yonder by the door we have been standing in the night breeze. and where is ramon?" "he is looking for you." "one would think him a jealous husband already," she exclaimed, lightly. then, extending her hand coolly to kirk, "i thank you, senor, for the--dance." her husband bowed. "i shall not soon forget it." to the father he added, in a low voice: "i thank you, also, for your courtesy. we have been discussing your daughter's marriage during the dance, and it is my one greatest hope that she will never regret it." the banker acknowledged the words ceremoniously. "love is a thing that comes and goes; marriage alone can bind it. some day you will thank me, and then perhaps you will honor our house again, eh?" "i shall be happy to come whenever you wish." as he walked away, the banker said, with relief: "he takes it well; he is proud--almost like a spaniard." kirk moved through the crowd as if in a trance, but he was beginning to realize the truth now; it surged over him in great waves of gladness. he longed to shout his news aloud. what luck was his! the world was made for him; there was no such thing as adversity or failure--chiquita was his wife! all christendom might go to pot for all he cared; that marvellous fact was unalterable. yes, and he could speak his mind to mrs. cortlandt. his tentative acceptance of the terms she made sickened him. he wanted to rid himself of this false position as soon as possible. what mattered her threats? what did he care for the things she could give or withhold when all the glad open world was beckoning to him and to his bride? success! riches! he could win them for himself. chiquita was all and more than they, and he was a god! in the midst of his rhapsody he heard a bell-boy speaking his name, and smiled at him vacantly as he turned away. but the negro followed him persistently, saying something about a letter. "letter? i have no time to write letters. oh, i beg pardon, letter for me?" he took the missive from the silver tray and stuffed it absent-mindedly into a pocket, fumbling meanwhile for a tip. "i don't seem to have any money, my boy, but money, after all, means nothing." "it is h'impartant, sar." "oh yes, the letter. very well." he opened the envelope and pretended to read, but in reality the sheet held nothing for him but a ravishing, mischievous face, with pansy eyes. he must have stood staring unseeingly at it for several seconds. then the dancing visions faded and the scrawl stood out plainly: williams, detective, st. louis, arrived at colon this evening on the prince joachim. you'd better take it on the run. it was written upon tivoli paper, but the hand was strange and it was not signed. "well!" kirk came suddenly to himself, and a spasm of disgust seized him. "what a rotten inconvenience!" he said aloud. but before he had time to measure the effect of this new complication the swelling music reminded him that this dance belonged to mrs. cortlandt and that her answer was due. she was waiting for him in the gallery, and motioned him to the chair adjoining hers. "i can't two-step and talk at the same time," she said, "and here we'll be quite private." kirk remained standing. "what i have to say won't take long. i've made up my mind, and i--" edith interrupted him with a lightness that her look belied: "oh, let's not discuss it. i don't want you to answer. i don't want to think of it. i just want to forget--and to plan. you understand how i feel?" she faced him with eyes bright and lustrous, her red lips parted in a smile. she was a very beautiful woman, kirk realized--a very compelling, unusual woman, and one whose capabilities seemed unbounded. he began dimly to perceive that all women have great capabilities for good or evil, depending largely upon the accident of their environment, and with this thought came the feeling that he must speak frankly now or prove himself worse than base. if only she were of the weakly feminine type his task would be far easier. but it was hard to strike her, for the very reason that he knew she would take the blow bravely and meet its full force. "i must answer," he said. "i don't want to pretend; i'm not good at lying. i can't go through with any such arrangement as you suggested. why, the very idea is positively--fierce. you've been awfully nice to me, but i had no idea of--this. besides, cortlandt's an awfully decent chap, and--and, well," he concluded, lamely, "there are lots of reasons." "oh no! there is only one reason; all the others count for nothing." she spoke in a voice that he could scarcely hear. "perhaps! but it's--just impossible." "you know what it means?" she stared at him with hard, level eyes. "i'm not a moderate person--i can't do things by halves. no! i see you don't think of that, you are mad over this garavel girl. but you can't get her." something in his dazzled, love-foolish smile enraged her. "so! you are planning even now. well, then, understand there are practical reasons, political reasons, why you can't have her. if garavel were insane enough to consent, others would not. she is part of--the machine, and there are those who will not consent to see all their work spoiled. that is altogether apart from me, you understand. i can build, and i can destroy--" "there's nothing more to say," he interrupted her, quietly, "so i'd better excuse myself." "yes! i would prefer to be alone." when he had bowed himself away she crushed the fan in her hand, staring out across the lights of the city below, and it was thus that cortlandt found her a few moments later, as he idled along the veranda, his hands in his pockets, a cigarette between his lips. he dropped into the empty chair beside her, saying: "hello! thought you had this with anthony?" "i had." "what's the trouble?" "there is no trouble." she began to rock, while he studied her profile; then, conscious of his look, she inquired, "aren't you dancing?" "no, just looking on, as usual. i prefer to watch. you have broken your fan, it seems." he flung his cigarette into the darkness and, reaching out, took the fan from her hand. she saw that his lips were drawn back in a peculiar smile. "well! is that so strange?" she answered, sharply. "you seem--" she broke off and looked deliberately away from him. "row, eh?" he inquired, softly. she could barely hold back her hatred of the man. he had worked powerfully upon her nerves of late, and she was half hysterical. "why do you take pleasure in annoying me?" she cried. "what ails you these last few weeks? i can't stand it--i won't--" "oh! pardon! one quarrel an evening is enough. i should have known better." she turned upon him at this, but once more checked the words that clamored for utterance. her look, however, was a warning. she bit her lip and said nothing. "too bad you and he don't hit it off better; he likes me." there was no answer. "he's giving me a party after the dance, sort of a gratitude affair. a delicate way to acknowledge a debt, eh?" she saw that his hand shook as he lit a fresh cigarettes, and the strangeness of his tone made her wonder. "you know very well it is runnels' doing," she said. "oh, there are six of them in it altogether, but anthony originated the little surprise. it's intended for you, of course." "i don't see it. are you going?" "i accepted." "what do you mean by that?" "bah! they won't give it," he said, harshly. "and why not? i think it is rather nice of those chaps. of course, runnels would like to ingratiate himself with you--" "funny spectacle, eh? me the guest of--anthony!" there was a trace of anxiety in her voice as she answered, and, though she spoke carelessly, she did not meet his eyes. "i--i'd rather you'd make an excuse. i'll have to go home alone, you know." he raised his brows mockingly. "my dear! i'm to be the honored guest." "suit yourself, of course." a marine officer approached, mopping his face, and engaged her in conversation, whereupon cortlandt rose languidly and strolled away through the crowd that came eddying forth from the ballroom. meanwhile, kirk had found runnels, who was looking for him, eager to express his congratulations and to discuss their exploit in detail. "i've just taken the wife home," he explained. "i never saw anybody so excited. if she'd stayed here she'd have given the whole thing away, sure. why, she wasn't half so much affected by her own marriage." "i--i haven't pulled myself together yet. funny thing--i've just been watching my wife dancing with the man she is engaged to. gee! it's great to be married." "she's the dearest thing i ever saw; and wasn't she game? alice will cry for weeks over this. why, it's the sob-fest of her lifetime. she's bursting with grief and rapture. i hope your wife can keep a secret better than mine, otherwise there will be a tremendous commotion before to-morrow's sun sets. i suppose now i'll have to hang around home with my finger on my lip, saying 'hist!' until the news comes out. whew! i am thirsty." anthony did not tell his friend about the detective in colon and his mysterious warning, partly because he was not greatly disturbed by it and trusted to meeting the difficulty in proper time, and partly because his mind was once more too full of his great good-fortune to permit of any other interest. now that he had some one to whom he could talk freely, he let himself go, and he was deep in conversation when stephen cortlandt strolled up and stopped for an instant to say: "quite a lively party, isn't it?" kirk noticed how sallow he had grown in the past few months, and how he had fallen off in weight. he looked older, too; his cheeks had sunken in until they outlined his jaws sharply. he seemed far from well; a nervous twitching of his fingers betokened the strain he had been under. he was quite as immaculate as usual, however, quite as polished and collected. "how is our little 'stag' coming on?" he asked. "fine! everything is ready," said runnels. "you won't expect an elaborate layout; it's mostly cold storage, you know, but we'll at least be able to quench our thirst at the central." "then it's really coming off? i was--afraid you'd forgotten it." cortlandt cast a curious glance at kirk, who exclaimed, heartily: "well, hardly!" then, as their prospective guest moved off, "what a strange remark!" "yes," said runnels, "he's a queer fellow; but then, you know, he's about as emotional as a toad." xxvi the crash kirk had no further chance of speaking with his wife, for after the dance she was whisked away, leaving him nothing but the memory of an adoring, blissful glance as she passed. with runnels and cortlandt and the rest, he was driven to the hotel central, where they found a very attractive table set in a private dining-room. it was a lively party, and kirk's secret elation enabled him to play the part of host with unforced geniality. the others joined him in a hearty effort to show their guest the high regard in which they held him, and if cortlandt did not enjoy himself, it was entirely his own fault. toward kirk, however, he preserved a peculiar attitude, which only the young man's self-absorption prevented him from noticing. if he had been less jubilant, he must have felt the unnatural aloofness of the other man's bearing; but even had he done so, he would doubtless have attributed it to cortlandt's well-recognized frigidity. at the propitious moment, runnels, who had reluctantly agreed to share the social responsibility, made a little speech, explaining that he and his boys had been sensible from the first of their guest's interest in them, and were deeply grateful for it. they were all working together, he said, and what helped one helped another. they had banded together, and now tendered him a token of their regard in a form which he could preserve. "it's a little late," he smiled, "in view of the rumor that has been going round within the last day or so, but, no matter what happens to any one of us in the readjustment of our department, we appreciate the help you have given us collectively." he handed a handsome loving-cup to cortlandt, who thanked him appropriately, then waited courteously for the party to break up. but anthony rose, saying: "i simply have to say a word on my own account, fellows, for i owe mr. cortlandt more than any of you." the object of these remarks shot a swift, questioning glance from his stony eyes, and raised a hand as if to check him. but kirk ran on unheeding: "i want to thank him before all of you for what he has done for me personally. when i landed in panama i was a rotter. i'd never worked, and never intended to; i rather despised people who did. i represented the unearned increment. i was broke and friendless, and what ideas i had were all wrong. this is something you don't know, perhaps, but no sooner had i landed than i got into trouble of the worst sort, and mr. cortlandt got me out. he was my bail-bond; he put me up at his hotel; gave me clothes, and paid my way until i got started. i was a stranger, mind you, but he's been just like one of my own people, and if i ever succeed in doing anything really worth while, it will be due to the start he gave me." though the words were commonplace enough, they carried a sincere message, and cortlandt saw by the faces about him that the others were pleased. his own gaunt features turned more sallow than ever. the memory of what he had heard on the porch of his own house a few afternoons ago, of what he had seen at other times, of his wife's telltale behavior on this very evening, swept over him, fanning anew the sullen emotions he had cherished all these months. how far would this fellow dare to go, he wondered? what motive inspired him thus to pose before his friends, and openly goad his victim under the cloak of modesty and gratitude? was he enhancing his triumph by jeering at the husband of whom he had made a fool? he dropped his eyes to hide the fury in them. "i want to give you a little remembrance of my own." anthony was speaking directly to him. "it isn't much, but it means a good deal to me, and i hope it will have some sort of personal association for you, mr. cortlandt." he drew from his pocket a plush case and took from it a very handsome thin swiss watch with the letters "s. c." artfully enamelled upon the back. runnels, who knew the local shops, wondered how it had been procured in panama. the others openly expressed their admiration. cortlandt accepted the gift mechanically; then, as it touched his flesh, a sudden color mounted to his cheeks, only to recede, leaving them bloodless again. he stared at it uncertainly, then looked up and ran his eyes slowly around the table. they came to rest at last upon the broad frame of the giver, crowned with its handsome, sun-tanned face and close-cropped shock of yellow hair. anthony was all that he was not--the very embodiment of youth, vigor, and confidence, while he was prematurely aged, worn, and impotent. they noted how ill he appeared, as if he had suffered from a jungle fever, how his well-cut evening clothes refused to conceal the frail lines of his figure, and how the hollows in his cheeks added to his age. but for the first time since they had known him they saw that his eyes were alive and burning dully. "i really didn't expect this," he began, slowly, as he rose. "anthony exaggerates; he is too kind. but since he has chosen to publicly call attention to our relations, i will confess that what he tells you is all true. he was everything he says when he first came to panama. he did get into trouble, and i helped him out; he had no money, and i put him up as my guest; he needed work, and i helped to place him. through my assistance--partly, at any rate--he has made a man of himself. he has been welcome at my house, at my table; he has come and gone as he pleased, like one of the family, you might say. but those are little things; they count for nothing." he smiled in a way that seemed ironical, his lips writhed away from his teeth until his visage resembled a death-head. his tone had gripped his hearers, and anthony stirred uneasily, thinking this an odd way of accepting a gift. unclasping his long, white fingers, cortlandt held up the watch to public view. "in payment for my poor friendship he has given me this magnificent thing of gold and jewels, the finest i ever saw. i never counted upon such gratitude. it is too much, and yet a man cannot refuse the gift of his friend and not seem ungracious, can he? somewhere in the orient they have a custom of exchanging gifts. no man may accept a thing of value without making adequate return, and it has always struck me as a wise practice." he turned full upon kirk for the first time since he had begun speaking, and his voice rose a tone as he said: "i can't let the obligation rest entirely upon me. we have been friends, anthony, and i am going to give you something in return which i have prized highly; it would be counted of great value by some." once more he paused and drew his lips back in that grimace of mockery--it could no longer be termed a smile. "it is this--i am going to give you--my wife. you have had her from the first, and now she is yours." for one frightful moment there was no sound; even the men's breathing was hushed, and they sat slack-jawed, stunned, half-minded to believe this some hideous, incredible jest. but the maniacal light in cortlandt's eyes, and anthony's chalk-white, frozen countenance soon showed them the truth. some one gasped, another laughed hysterically, the sound breaking in his throat. cortlandt turned away gloatingly. kirk was the last to recover his powers, but when they did revive they came with a prodigious rush. he plunged upward out of his chair with a cry like a wounded animal, and the others rose with him. the table rocked, something smashed, a chair was hurled backward. the room broke into instant turmoil. kirk felt hands upon him, and then went blind with fury, struggling in a passion too strong for coherent speech. he was engulfed in chaos. he felt things break beneath his touch, felt bodies give way before him. how or when cortlandt left the room he never knew. eventually he found himself pinned in his chair, with runnels' white face close against his own and other hands upon his arms. his first frenzy quickly gave way to a sickening horror. some one was commanding him to be still, to create no scene; but those were not words, they were simply mutterings that conveyed no meaning. "it's a lie! the man's crazy!" he cried, hoarsely; then, as his companions drew away from him, he rose to his feet. "why are you looking at me like that? i tell you it's a damned lie! i never--" runnels turned to the table, and with shaking hand put a glass to his lips and gulped its contents. wade and kimble exchanged glances, then, avoiding each other's eyes, took their hats from the hooks behind them. "wait! bring him back!" kirk mumbled. "i'll get him and make him say it's a lie." but still no one answered, no one looked at him. "god! you don't believe it?" "i'm going home, fellows. i'm kind of sick," kimble said. one of the others murmured unintelligibly, and, wetting a napkin, bound up his hand, which was bleeding. they continued to watch kirk as if fearful of some insane action, yet they refused to meet his eyes squarely. there was no sympathy in their faces. the knowledge of what these actions meant came to him slowly. was it possible that his friends believed this incredible accusation? the thought made him furious, too agitated as yet to realize that such a charge made under such circumstances could not well prove less than convincing. as he began to collect himself he saw his plight more clearly. his first thought had been that cortlandt was insane, but the man's actions were not those of a maniac. no! he actually believed and--and these fellows believed also. no doubt they would continue to think him guilty in spite of all that he could do or say; for after this shocking denunciation it would take more than mere words to prove that he had not betrayed his friend and benefactor. it was incredible, unbearable! he wanted to shout his innocence at them, to beat it into their heads; but the more he expostulated the more distant they became. one by one they took their hats and went out, mumbling good-night to one another, as if intending to go home singly in order to avoid all discussion of this thing that had fallen among them runnels alone remained. "you don't believe i did--that?" anthony asked, in a strained voice. "i--i think i do." there was a miserable silence, and then: "it isn't the thing itself, you know, so much as the rotten--underhanded advantage you took. if he'd been a stranger, now--honestly, isn't it true?" kirk shook his head, listlessly. "i wouldn't lie to you." runnels drew a deep breath.. "oh, come, now, the man must have known what he was saying. do you realize what it means--if--well, if he were mistaken? it would be bad enough if he were not, but this would be ten times worse. don't you see?" "i don't see much of anything yet. i'm stunned." "ugh! to make it public that way, he must be made of iron." runnels shuddered; then, with cold eyes on kirk, continued: "he must have known, anthony. men don't do things like that on suspicion." "he misunderstood our friendship," said kirk, heavily, then roused himself for a last plea. "look here!" he cried. "you know cortlandt and you know me. the man was insanely jealous! i know it sounds weak, but it's the truth, and it's all i can say. i'll go mad if you doubt me." runnels' face showed the pain he felt, but his eyes looked incredulous. "another thing," kirk went on, desperately: "do you suppose that if what you believe were true i could have the inhuman nerve to come here to-night? that would make me a fool or a monster!" "i don't know," said runnels. "you do know. you know me. if we weren't such friends i wouldn't argue with you like this, but--i can't bear it. and to-night of all--" he broke off sharply. "my god! i'd forgotten that i'm married! suppose gertrudis hears of this! if it ever gets to her--i--believe i could kill him." "don't talk like that." "i never really thought i could take a person's life, but if she heard she might believe; everybody else seems to believe. understand, she hardly knows me. she might--she might--" anthony seized his temples in despair. runnels took a sudden illogical decision. he never knew exactly what had influenced him, but his whole past knowledge of anthony surged up in him with a force that he could not resist. he found that he could not really believe him capable of this abomination any more than he could believe it of himself. little of our life is ruled by reason, and it is something else than logic that produces the last feeling of conviction. here, this something was present where logic was lacking. he laid his hand on kirk's shoulder. "take it easy, old man," he said. "i believe you. i've always known that they didn't get along together, although--well, i won't try to understand it. he may not do anything further, and these fellows won't mention what happened here; they can't." "you know we're only half married," moaned kirk, hardly heeding him. "women are apt to be jealous, aren't they, runnels? what do you suppose she'd do?" "don't worry about that. i'm thinking about cortlandt. if he finds out he's mistaken, what will he do?" "he'll have to find out. i'm going to tell him. his wife will tell him. good god! do you see what an awful light it puts me in? you don't doubt me, do you, really, old man?" "no--but what a night this has been! it seems a year old. come along, now, you must get out of here. you must turn in." "oh, i don't feel as if i'd ever sleep again until this thing is cleared up." his anguish swept over him in a fresh tide. "those boys think i did that trick to the man who befriended me!" "well, don't let's talk about it any more; we can't stay here all night, anyhow. the waiters are wondering what this row is about. i think we'd better take a walk." runnels dragged his companion out, trying to calm him as best he could. in passing through the deserted lobby of the hotel, they saw clifford idling about; but they were too much absorbed to wonder what had kept him up so late. by the clock across the plaza they saw it was two hours after midnight as they stepped into the street; then, finding no coaches in sight, they set out to walk toward ancon, both badly in need of the open air. a moment later clifford followed them, taking pains to keep at a distance. now that the full import of cortlandt's accusation had sunk into his mind, kirk lapsed into a mood of sullen bitterness. he said little, but his set face worried his companion, who was loath to bid him goodnight even when they were close to the tivoli. after they had parted runnels was upon the point of going back and offering to spend the night with him, but thought better of it. after all, he reflected, his apprehensions were probably quite unfounded. anthony was too sensible a chap to do anything he might repent of, now that his gust of passion had died down. so he went on homeward wondering vaguely how cortlandt would dare to meet his wife, or, if he really found himself mistaken, how he could ever summon courage to look his hosts in the face. instead of passing through the office, kirk mounted to the porch of the tivoli and entered his room from the outside, as he and chiquita had done earlier that evening. he found allan waiting, and bursting with a desire to gossip, but cut him short. "get my street-clothes, i'm going out." he tore the white tie from his throat as if it were choking him. "it is too late, sar. you will be h'exposing yourself to a fever in the mist," expostulated the boy; but kirk would not hear argument. "come along if you want to, i can't sleep. i want to walk--walk until i'm tired." mystified and frightened at this behavior, allan obeyed. "never have i h'observed you so h'angry, boss," he observed. "is it ramon alfarez?" his eyes began to roll in excitement, for the spectacle of his master's agitation never failed to work upon him powerfully. "no, not ramon; another. i've been hurt, allan. i can't explain, for you wouldn't understand, but i've been hurt." the negro's lips drew apart in an expression of ape-like ferocity, and he began to chatter threats of vengeance, to which kirk paid little heed. a few moments later they went out quietly, and together took the rock road down toward the city, the one silent and desperate, the other whining like a hound nearing a scent. xxvii a question edith cortlandt did not retire immediately upon her return from the ball. her anger at anthony's behavior kept her wakeful, and the night had turned off so dead and humid that sleep was in any case a doubtful possibility. it was the lifeless period between seasons when the trades had died out, or, at best, veered about bafflingly, too faint to offer relief. the cooling rains had not set in as yet, and a great blanket of heat wrapped the city in its smothering folds. the air was still and tainted, like that of a sick-room. through mrs. cortlandt's open windows came hardly a sound; even from the sea below rose only a faint hissing, as if the rocks at the water's edge were superheated. earlier in the evening the temperature had been bearable, but now it had reached an intensity to strain tired nerves to the snapping-point. it was the sort of night in which ailing children die and strong minds feel the burden of living. no relief was to be had, and the slightest physical effort was a misery. she was still sitting there at a late hour when she heard the outside door close and cortlandt's footsteps mounting the stairs. she was glad he had his own room and never entered hers at such an hour, for even to talk with him in her present state of mind and body would have been more than she could bear. she was unreasonably annoyed, therefore, when he came boldly into her chamber without even knocking, for all the world like a welcome lover. to conceal her irritation, she kept her face turned from him and continued fanning herself listlessly. she was reclining in a wicker chair, lightly clad in a filmy silk negligee, which she mechanically drew closer. "rather late for good-nights," she said, coldly. "i've just come from anthony's supper-party." his voice made her look round sharply. she saw that his linen, ordinarily stiff and immaculate, was sodden and crumpled, his collar limp, his forehead glistening with drops of moisture. she could not remember ever having seen him in such a state. his appearance affected her queerly. in him this dishevelment was shocking. "what ails you, stephen?" she cried. "have you been drinking?" "no. i didn't drink much. i brought you something." he took the loving-cup from its flannel bag and set it upon the table. "they gave me this." "it is very pretty, though i don't care for such things." "and this too." he tossed the watch with its enamelled monogram into her lap. "ah! that's very handsome." "yes, i thought you'd like it; it's from anthony." he laughed, then shuddered, as though a cold wind had bitten through his sodden garments. "why--you seem excited over these souvenirs. you surely expected--" he broke in--a thing he rarely did while she was speaking: "anthony made a speech when he gave it to me--a very nice speech, full of friendship and love and gratitude." he repeated kirk's words as he remembered them, "what do you think of that?" "i think he expressed himself very frankly. but why do you tell me now, when the morning will do just as well? i'm prostrated with this heat." "he actually acknowledged his debt in public." mrs. cortlandt's eyes widened. this was not the man she knew. at this moment he was actually insistent, almost overbearing, and he was regarding her with that same ironical sneer that had roused her anger earlier in the evening. "well, come to the point," she cried, irritably. "i don't understand what you are getting at. if you didn't wish to accept anything from him, why did you go?" he began to chuckle, apparently without reason. his shoulders shook, feebly at first, then more violently; his flat chest heaved, and he hiccoughed as if from physical weakness. it was alarming, and she rose, staring at him affrightedly. the sight of her increased his mirthless laughter. he continued to shudder and shake in uncontrollable hysteria, but his eyes were bright and watchful. "oh, i--i--took it all in--i let him p-put the noose around his own neck and tie the knot. then i hung him." his convulsive giggling was terrible, forecasting, as it did, his immediate breakdown. "stephen!" she exclaimed, in a shocked tone, convinced that his mind was going. "you are ill, you need a doctor. i will call joceel." she laid her hand on his arm. but he sniggered: "n-no! no! i'm all right. i t-t-t-t--" a stuttering-fit seized him; then, with an effort of will, he calmed himself. "don't think i'm crazy. i was never more sane, never cooler, in here." he tapped his head with his finger. "but i'm tired, that's all, tired of waiting." "won't you go to your room and let me call a doctor?" "not yet. wait! he told them what i had done for him, how i'd made a man of him when he was broke and friendless, how i'd taken him into my home like one of my family, and then i went him one better. i acknowledged it all and made them hear it from my lips too. then--" he paused, and she steeled herself to witness another spectacle of his pitiable loss of self-control. but instead he grew icy and corpse-like, with lips drawn back in a grin. "what do you think i said? can't you guess? i couldn't let him get away with that, could i? i played with him the way you have played with me. think!" her face went suddenly ashen. he stood before her grimly triumphant, enjoying his sense of mastery and deliberately prolonging her suspense. "well, i told him before them all that i intended to give him something in return, and i did. i--gave--him--you." she stared at him uncomprehendingly. he nodded. "i said he'd had you from the first and that now i'd give you to him." she gave an unintelligible cry, standing now, as if petrified. he went on: "i knew all the time that i was in the way, but my work is done at last, so i'll step out. but--you both got more than you bargained for, didn't you?" "god! you didn't tell him that? you didn't say that--before those men! oh-h!" she shrank back, drawing the gauzy silk robe closer about her breast. her hands were shaking, her hair, which had fallen free when she rose, cascaded about her neck and shoulders. she let her eyes wander about the room as if to assure herself that this was not some hideous nightmare. then she roused to sudden action. seizing him by the shoulders she shook him roughly with far more than her natural strength, voicing furious words which neither of them understood. "oh, i did it," he declared. "he's yours now. you can have him. he's been your lover--" she flung him away from her so violently that he nearly fell. "it's a lie! you know it's a lie!" "it's true. i'm no fool." she beat her hands together distractedly, "what have you done? what will those men think? listen! you must stop them quickly. tell them it's not so." he seemed not to hear her. "i'm going away to-morrow," he said, "but i'll never divorce you, no matter what you do; and i won't let you divorce me, either. no, no! take him now, if you want him, but you'll never be able to marry him until i'm gone. and i won't die soon--i promise you that, i'm going to live." "you can't go--" "there's a boat to-morrow." "don't you see you must stay and explain to those men? my god! they'll think you spoke the truth; they'll believe what you said." "of course they will," he chattered, shrilly. "that's why i did it in that way. no matter what you or he or i can do or say now, they'll believe it forever. it came to me like a flash of light, and i saw what it meant all in a minute. do you understand what it means, eh? listen! no matter how you behave, they'll know. they won't say anything, but they'll know, and you can't stand that, can you? even if you could fool me once more against the evidence of my own eyes and ears, and convince me that your lies are true, it wouldn't do any good with them." "'evidence!' you have no evidence." "no? what about that night at taboga? you were mad over the fellow then, but you didn't think i saw. that day i caught you together in the jungle--have you forgotten that? didn't you think it strange that i should be the one to discover you? oh, i pretended to be blind, but i followed you everywhere i could, and i kept my eyes open." "you saw nothing, for there was nothing." "he's been with you day and night. you have been together constantly, and i knew what was going on. but i waited, because i wasn't strong enough to revolt--until to-night. oh, but to-night i was strong! something gave me courage." in all their married life she had never known him to show such stubborn force. he was like granite, and the unbelievable change in him, upsetting all her preconceived notions of the man, appalled her. there had been times in the past when they had clashed, but he had never really matched his will with hers, and she had judged him weak and spiritless. now, therefore, failing to dominate him as usual, she was filled with a strange feeling of helplessness and terror. "you had no right to accept such evidence," she stormed. "bah! why try to fool me? i have your own words for it. the other afternoon i came home sick--with my head. i was on the gallery outside when you were pleading with him, and i heard it all. you talked that night about taboga, your guilty kisses and other things; you acknowledged everything. but he was growing tired of you. that, you know, makes it all the more effective." he smiled in an agonized fury. "you--cur!" she cried, with the fury of one beating barehanded at a barred door. "you had no right to do such a thing even if i were guilty." "right? aren't you my wife?" the look she gave him was heavy with loathing. "that means nothing with us. i never loved you, and you know it. you know, too, why i married you. i made no secret of it at the time. you had what i wanted, and i had what you wanted; but you were content with the bargain because i gave you money, position, and power. i never promised anything more than that. i made you into something like a man. you never could have succeeded without me. all you have is due to me--even your reputation in the service. your success, your influence, it is all mine, and the only thing you gave me was a name; any other would have done as well." he shrank a little under this tirade, despite his exaltation. "marriage!" she continued, in bitter scorn. "a priest mumbled something over us, but it meant nothing then or now. i have tolerated you because you were useful. i have carried you with me as i carry a maid or a butler. i bought a manikin and dressed it up and put breath into it for my own convenience, and i owe you nothing, do you understand--nothing! the debt is all on your side, as you and i and all the world know." "who made me a manikin?" he demanded, with womanish fury, a fury that had been striving for utterance these many years. "i had ambitions and hopes and ability once--not much, perhaps, but enough--before you married me. i was nothing great, but i was getting along. i had confidence, too, but you took it away from me. you--you absorbed me. you had your father's brain, and it was too big for me; it overshadowed mine. in a way you were a vampire; for what i had you drained me of. at first it was terrible to feel that i was inferior, but i loved you, and although i had some pride--" he choked an instant and threw back her incredulous stare defiantly. "i let myself be eliminated. you thought you were doing me a favor when you put me forward as a figurehead, but to me it was a tragedy. i couldn't help letting you do it. do you realize what that means to a fellow? i quit fighting for my own individuality, i became colored by you, i took on your ways, your habits, your mental traits, and--all the time i knew what was happening. god! how i struggled to remain stephen cortlandt, but it would have taken a big man to mould you to his ways, and i was only average. i began to do your work in your particular style; i forgot my ambitions and my dreams and took up yours. that's what i fell to, and all the time i knew it, and--and all the time i knew you neither cared nor understood. my only consolation was the thought that even though you never had loved me and never could, you at least respected our relation. i clung to that miserably, for it was all i had left, all that made me seem like a man. and yet you took away even that. i tried to rebel, but i had been drugged too long. you saw anthony, and he had the things i lack; you found you were not a machine, but a living woman. he discovered the secret i had wasted away in searching for, and you rewarded him. oh, i saw the change in you quickly enough, and if i'd been a man instead of what i was, i'd have--but i wasn't. i went spying around like a woman, hating myself for permitting it to go on, but lacking strength to stop it. but to-night, when he got up before those other men and dangled my shame before my eyes, i had enough manhood left in me to strike back. thank god for that at least! maybe it's not too late yet; maybe if i get away from you and try--" his voice died out weakly; in his face there was a miserable half-gleam of hope. "i never knew you felt like that. i never knew you could feel that way," she said, in a colorless voice. "but you made a terrible mistake." "do you mean to say you don't love him?" "no, i have loved him for a long time--i can't remember when it began." she spoke very listlessly, looking past him as if at a long-familiar picture which she was tired of contemplating. "i never knew what love was before; i never even dreamed. i'd give my life right now--to undo what you have done, just for his sake, for he is innocent. oh, don't sneer; it's true. he loves the garavel girl, and wants to marry her." "i know all that. i overheard you in the parlor below." "listen, please! i don't remember what i said then, and it doesn't matter; you took too much for granted. we must talk plainly now, before"--she pressed her palms to her temples as if they were bursting--"before it becomes impossible. i never lied to you, stephen. is that true?" "i used to think so." "i'm going to tell you the whole truth now without sparing myself. it began, i think, at taboga, that night when he kissed me. it was the only time he ever did such a thing. it was dark, we were alone, i was frightened, and it was purely impulse on his part. but it woke me up, and all at once i knew how much he meant to me. i would have yielded utterly to him then if he had let me, but he was panic-stricken. he spoke of you, he apologized; i never saw a man in more misery. when i had time to realize the truth i tried to fight it off. but it was no use, and at last i gave up. after that i put myself in his way deliberately. i offered him opportunities continually, but he never seemed to see them. that day in the jungle i was desperate at his indifference, and i drove the horses away when he wasn't looking. i struck them with my crop--and i actually threw myself at him as boldly as i could, regardless of consequences. but he was like ice; he was speaking of you when you came. it has always been the same. when i discovered that he cared for that girl--well, if you overheard you must know. i frightened garavel into dismissing him, and i set out to break him, just to show him that he needed me. to-night i offered to divorce you and make him all and more than i've made you, but he scorned me. that's the truth, stephen. if we believed in oaths, i would swear it." no one who knew the woman could have disbelieved her, and to the husband who knew her every mental and moral trait this bald, hopeless confession came as a crushing anti-climax to his great effort. it left him not the slightest doubt that she was honest. he said, dully, in a feeble attempt to right himself: "you are shielding him. you want to make me out wrong." but she knew he knew. "those are the facts. heaven knows they are bad enough, but they are by no means so bad as you thought. and i'm your wife, stephen. that thing you did was brutal; those men will talk. i was guilty, no doubt, in my thoughts, but i'm young, and you have no right to blight my life and my reputation--yes, and yours--by a thing like that. we will have to meet those men. what are you going to do?" "i don't know," he said. "in all my life i never felt but one moment of power, and that, it seems, was false. for years i have longed to show myself a man, and now--what have i done? what have i done? i am no monster." he moaned and sank limply into a chair, folding together in an attitude of dejection that was pitiful. he raised his head and broke out at her in a last spasm of desperation, as a dying ember flares even while it crumbles. "my god! why couldn't you be consistent? why did you go half-way? why couldn't you be all good or all bad and save me this?" "all women are half good and half bad." "i can't blame you for not loving me, i suppose," he mumbled. "no woman of your kind could love a man like me." "those men!" she said, in a way that made him writhe. "wait until i--think. i must think." "you can't think now, and neither can i." "we must." he wrung his hands. "they'll never believe me--" there was a long silence. "perhaps in the morning we can see a way out." "that's it." he nodded. "you go to bed and i'll think. i'm trying to think now, but this heat is suffocating me and my head is tired." he brushed a hand feebly across his brow. "if it would only rain i--could think better." "yes, and we must think of anthony, too. no matter how you blame me, you must realize that he was innocent, and perhaps, after all, he is the one that you wronged deepest. he will have to meet those men, and they were his friends." despite the breathless oppression of the night, she shivered. "_i_ never can meet them now, and i don't see how you will dare to, knowing that you were wrong." "don't!" he pleaded. "the other was bad enough, but this--tell me what to do!" "i can't. i don't know myself. all i can see is that those men will never cease to believe, no matter what you tell them." she groped her way to the window, but there was no relief even in the open air. by-and-by she heard him sigh, then rise and say "good-night." as she prepared for bed an hour later she heard him still stirring about in his quarters, but afterward, as she lay staring into the black night, she was so busied with the frightful fancies that swarmed about her that she did not detect his cautious footsteps when he stole out of his chamber, closing the door softly behind him. xxviii the answer kirk was roused from a heavy, senseless slumber the next morning by a vigorous rapping at his door. he lay still for a time, vaguely resentful of the noise, then glanced at his watch, and found, with a shock, that it was quite late. realizing only that he was due at the office, he leaped out of bed. he opened the door and runnels rushed in. "have you heard?" "i heard your infernal pounding; that's what woke me up." runnels calmed his excitement, which kirk now observed was intense. "where did you go after i left you last night?" "i came here, of course." as the memory of the previous night swept over him he scowled. "did you stay here?" "no. i went out again, and was out nearly all night trying to walk it off." runnels' face blanched, and he drew back. "then of course you know?" "what?" "about cortlandt. he's dead!" it was kirk's turn to start and grow pale. the last cobweb was swept from his brain, and he gasped: "dead! when? where? how did it happen?" "nobody knows just how. he was found on the sea-wall near alfarez' house, shot." "shot! good lord!" "it happened some time early this morning, and the whole city is talking about it. i came to you the first thing." "we'd better hurry down there. mrs. cortlandt must be all broken up." kirk began to dress hastily, but paused as his friend stammered: "wait! i--i--let's understand each other first. i met wade just now. the news has rattled him, and he's been talking." "what do you mean?" "did you see cortlandt again after i left you?" runnels swallowed hard. kirk whirled about and faced him. "great heavens! no! see here, that idea is ridiculous." runnels sank weakly into a chair and mopped his face. "i'm glad to hear you say that. it frightened me just the same, for i remembered you acted so queerly when i left you, and wade seemed to think, perhaps--when you said you'd gone out again, it knocked me flat, understand?" "i can prove where i was, for allan was with me. i couldn't sleep, so i tried to walk off my excitement. no, no. i couldn't do a thing like that. i thought last night that i could, but--i couldn't, really." "i'm afraid wade will tell all about the party if we don't stop him." "then we'd better hunt him up." kirk resumed his dressing, while runnels consulted his watch. "no. is due in twenty minutes. we'll probably find him at the office." together they hastened to the railroad building, runnels telling all he knew of the tragedy as they went along. cortlandt's body, it seemed, had been found about daylight by a spiggoty policeman, who had identified it. becoming panic-stricken at the importance of his discovery, he had sounded the alarm, then reported directly to the governor, whose house was close by. it was general alfarez himself who had informed mrs. cortlandt over the telephone of her husband's death. the whole city was alive with the news, the police were buzzing like bees. rumors of suicide, murder, robbery were about, but no one seemed to know anything definite. colonel jolson in his motor-car had just come from culebra, and colonel bland was on no. from gatun, hence runnels' desire to be at the station. "it was suicide," kirk averred, with conviction. "the man was insane last night, and that accounts for what he said about me. he's been sick for a long time." "if those boys will only keep their mouths shut!" runnels said, anxiously. "there's no telling what these spiggoties might do if they heard about that row." "cortlandt was an american." "but it happened in panama, and it would be their affair." although it was sunday, the four young fellows who had taken part in the entertainment on the night before had gathered in the office, and at the appearance of runnels greeted him eagerly. toward kirk, however, they maintained a disheartening constraint. the acting superintendent began to caution them tersely. "boys, there's no use to tell you that we must keep still about what happened last night. kirk thinks cortlandt's mind was unbalanced; but whether it was or not, he left a widow, and what went on at that supper must never leak out." "why do you think he was crazy?" wade inquired. "his actions last night would show it," kirk answered. "the man must have been out of his mind to believe or to say such a thing." "you mean, then, that he shot himself?" kirk nodded. "i don't agree with you. i've seen crazy people, but he was as sane as any of us. and i don't believe in secrecy, either. i think we ought to be entirely frank about the matter. the truth never hurt anybody." "it's a bad business," said runnels, "and it's something i for one don't want to be mixed up in. i've heard rumors already about some sort of a quarrel at our party, so i'm afraid you fellows have been talking." wade acknowledged it recklessly. "yes, i'll answer for my part, and i'm not going to make any promise of secrecy, either. if that affair had anything to do with steve cortlandt's death, it ought to be known, so the man who did it can be made to answer." into the office behind them came ramon alfarez and two panamanian policemen, one evidently a sergeant. "eh, there you are!" alfarez cried, as he caught sight of kirk. then he said something in spanish to the sergeant, who advanced and laid hands upon the american. "you are arrest'." "what for?" "gentlemen, you will be so kind as to geeve the names, yes? the jodge will desire to make inquiries regarding those sopper to senor cortlan' las' night." "what am i arrested for?" kirk demanded. "come! you are arrest'. that is enough." at that moment the building began to shake and reverberate, as no. rolled in from colon, bearing john weeks, american consul, and mr. williams, of st. louis, in one of the forward coaches. as the two hurried out through the turnstiles, they found the street blocked by a considerable crowd, evidently interested in something quite apart from the arrival of the morning train. but before they could learn the cause, out from the near-by building came ramon alfarez, accompanied by several policemen and a group of railroad employes, among whom was kirk anthony. "there he is!" wheezed the consul, clutching at his companion's arm. "get him now, before his friends." but williams had been even quicker of eye than his fat guide, and was plunging through the crowd toward his quarry. he thrust the policemen and the curious onlookers aside and, laying hold of anthony, cried in triumph: "well, mr. jefferson locke, i want you." "hello, williams! you got around finally, didn't you?" kirk smiled at him. a little man in blue uniform was attempting to take the prisoner in charge, but the detective disregarded him. "it won't do you any good to resist," he went on. "i've come to get you." runnels elbowed his way forward with a question. "oh, i've got a warrant for him," williams declared. "what for? well, for one thing he embezzled eighty thousand dollars, and i'm going to take him back." "eh? w'at is this?" alfarez bustled into the conversation. "embezzle? he is then a t'ief?" "exactly. if you're the inspector i'll ask you to make this arrest for me. i believe we're on foreign ground." "that's right, alfarez," came the voice of john weeks, anxious to have a word in the affair. "i'll vouch for mr. williams. this chap is a smooth one, but his name isn't anthony at all, nor locke, either; it's wellar; and he's wanted for other things besides embezzlement." turning his triumphant little red eyes upon the prisoner, he puffed, "got you, didn't we?" "i regret you 'ave arrive' so late," smirked alfarez. "the gentleman is already arrest' for the murder of senor cortlan'. he will first answer to that, i assure you." kirk nodded. "too bad, williams! i'm sorry you didn't come last night." they went on down the street, leaving the detective staring and weeks open-mouthed. "cortlandt murdered!" the consul gasped. "lord! and to think i nourished that viper at my breast." williams wheeled and cursed the fat man furiously. it was during the lunch-hour that ramon alfarez called at the garavel home, finding the banker and his daughter still loitering over their midday meal and discussing the topic that had electrified the whole city. "ah, ramon!" the old gentleman began, eagerly. "be seated and tell us quickly the latest news. a terrible thing, was it not, this death of our good friend? i have been to see his unfortunate widow, but even yet i cannot believe it to be true." "yes. a terrible thing! it was only last night that we saw him well and happy." although alfarez was trembling with eagerness to tell his news, he also meant to extract the greatest possible satisfaction from it, and now bent an inquiring glance upon gertrudis. his look turned to one of malicious triumph as he saw that he was, indeed, the first to bring the tidings of anthony's arrest; for the girl's acceptance of his suit had by no means wiped out the memory of her momentary preference for his rival, and he had hastened hither straight from the police barracks, delighting in the chance to make her suffer. "so fine a man," the father was saying. "he was, indeed, my good friend. it is shocking." "yes, and to think he should have been killed in this cowardly manner!" "killed! is it believed that he was murdered? caramba! i supposed he had shot himself. that was the gossip an hour ago." garavel was deeply affected, and motioned for the dishes in front of him to be removed. ramon nodded. "there are suspicious circumstances, it seems. last night, after the ball, he had a serious quarrel--one of those american fights, almost. that much is known." gertrudis, who had remained silent until now, her dark eyes clouded with distress, said, sympathetically: "and the poor lady! she must suffer terribly." "ah, perhaps! one cannot always tell!" ramon shrugged and smiled. "what do you mean?" cried garavel. "this quarrel you speak of? continue, ramon, i am consumed with eagerness." "upon leaving the tivoli last night, senor cortlan' dined with six of his friends at the central. there was drinking. the waiters have been questioned; also, one of the men who was present has recounted to me what occurred. it seems that for a long time senor cortlan' has been jealous of his wife." "impossible! jealous? my dear ramon, an admirable lady." "i--i shall leave you, perhaps?" questioned gertrudis, modestly, as she rose, but ramon exclaimed: "no, no! by all means remain. i have remarkable things to disclose, amazing news that will interest you. there was a serious altercation, and senor cortlan' openly accused his enemy before all the others. it was most dramatic, it was terrible! there was a scene of violence, the other man made threats." garavel breathed an incredulous exclamation. "ah, but wait! it was senor cortlan's best friend, too, the man for whom he had accomplished many favors whom he accused." he noted with mingled anger and satisfaction the pallor that was creeping into the girl's cheeks. "you would never guess. it was--i hesitate, and yet you are bound to learn, my dear friends, it was this ant'ony." his moment had indeed been worth waiting for. it even went far to atone for the sense of injury under which he smarted; for the banker was stricken speechless, and his daughter went deathly white. her eyes began to fill with horror. garavel was the first to recover himself. "infamous! it is unbelievable! the wretch, then, had betrayed his friend." "he is indeed a villain. that much i have always known." "it is a lie!" said the girl, quietly. she had risen and was standing straight, a tragic little figure. "gertrudis!" her father admonished. "you hear what ramon has said." "yes!" said ramon. "he deceived senor cortlan' very nicely; it had been going on for months." "it is a lie!" she repeated. "he loved no one but me." "gertrudis!" the banker was shocked beyond measure at what he considered his daughter's jealousy. "those are not nice words. he told you so, yes; but if he would betray his best friend, he would deceive you also. it was our great good-fortune to be done with him in time. you will see now that i did well in sending him off--eh, chiquita?" "no! i do not believe you." ramon had not counted upon such a spirit, and, his anger getting the better of him, he sneered: "i should not have spoken. i did not know you still care." "she does not care," garavel declared, loudly. "ah, but i do. i love him very dearly." the two men were upon their feet in an instant, staring at her, the elder in amazement, the younger with rage and resentment blazing from his countenance. "silence!" thundered the banker. "yonder stands your affianced husband." "it is a mistake--" she persisted, gently. "no, no, no! there is no mistake," chattered ramon. "those other men have told all, and your ant'ony is now in the carcel under guard. it was i who saw to his arrest." the slender figure swayed, a tiny olive hand fluttered to her breast. "ramon, you must not heed her, she is upset. this is but a girl's foolish fancy, and it will pass. the man was handsome, and he cast a spell over her." "nor is that all," ramon ran on, excitedly. "he is not at all the man he pretended to be, even his name is false. this morning there arrived an american officer of police to arrest him on other charges. he is a thief, it seems, having stolen eighty thousand dollars 'gold' from his employers. oh, there is no mistake. within the hour i have been talking with this detective, and he has the papers of proof. it will be in the newspapers, every one will know shortly. last night, when senor cortlan' made his accusation, there was a frightful quarrel, and ant'ony swore to kill him. at dawn the poor husband is found shot on the sea wall. is not that enough?" "it is indeed!" gasped the father. "you see, then, my child, from what you were saved. this should be a day of thanksgiving to you as it is to me. for this deliverance i shall erect a cross of stone on the hill by our house, so that all our lives we may offer a prayer when our eyes rest upon it. come, now, it is ramon who has unmasked this person. have you no thanks to give him?" "but it is not true," maintained the girl, simply, and her eyes were as steady as altar flames. "eh? well! he is in the barracks at this moment," snarled ramon, "and there he shall remain, i promise you, until he goes to chiriqui or--" gertrudis turned to her father. "take me to him, please. i must go at once to the carcel." but he only answered her with a stare of amazement. "go!" he murmured, after an instant. "have i lost my senses?" he began to summon his indignation for a terrific outburst. "yes, i must go, for he is my husband. we were wed last night." there was a moment of absolute silence, during which the clatter of a passing coach sounded loudly in the room. then-- "mother of god!" the banker ejaculated, hoarsely, and sank into the seat from which he had arisen. ramon was staring from one to the other, his head turning jerkily. the girl raised her face proudly. "yes! i am his wife, although i had not expected to tell you so soon; therefore, you see i must go to him quickly, or he will think i believe these lies." "you are mad! do you know what you are saying?" "oh yes. the judge from colon married us during the dance. i would have liked a church wedding; but that will come later. the senor ronnels and his wife were there also, and they will tell you. it made me very happy. you see, i prayed the virgin that i might be happy, and she heard. oh, i offered so many prayers, and all last night i lay awake giving thanks for my great happiness, which even yet i cannot believe." her face was transfigured by a look that left the two men no choice but to believe. "a civil marriage!" stammered ramen. "a civil marriage, indeed!" said garavel, in a choking voice. "so that is where you were when i believed you to be dancing!" he burst forth violently, pounding the table with his clenched fist until the dishes danced, his brilliant black eyes flashing beneath their thatch of white. "but i will not have it, understand! you are betrothed. you have given your word to ramon." "ah, but i never loved him. you compelled me to consent, because you said you could not be president unless i married him. and that was not so. ramon deceived you. now it is all right. you will be president, and i can be happy." ramon's suspicion kindled on the instant. he turned upon the banker. "so! i begin to see! that was a trick, then, to betray my father." "but wait!" gertrudis exclaimed, sharply. "did you not trick us also? did you not use the general, your father, to make me give up the man i love? which of us, then, is the better?" andres garavel spoke threateningly, menacingly, to his daughter. "enough! our word was given, and you have broken it! you have brought disgrace to our name. can a garavel be president of the republic with his daughter wed to a murderer?" "he is not that!" "it was no marriage, and it will not stand. i will have it annulled. such things are easily done, ramon. she is no wife. the man was a criminal, a fugitive, even when he forced her to marry--" "no, no! you cannot do that. it was i who asked him to marry me." the girl lied tremulously, panic-stricken at the threat. "before god, i am his wife!" she maintained. "and if this marriage has a flaw, then i will stand beside the prison gates and remarry him as he comes forth." "he will not come forth," ramon declared, harshly. "oh yes! and now will you take me to him?" "no!" her father bellowed. "you are my daughter, you are under my roof, and here you shall stay until you give up this madness and this man." "that i can never do," she retorted, proudly. "you see, i am not all spanish, i have in me also the blood of his people, and that makes me steadfast. i could not doubt him if i wished." "i forbid you to go near him. come! do you promise?" she inclined her dark head. "i must learn more of this affair at once. you will find your senses, miss, or if you do not you will spend your life in meditation and prayer--that much i promise you." "i do not wish to enter a convent," she said, with white lips. "i wish to be happy. when keerk is free i shall go to him. now, if you please, i--think i shall go away." she turned and went out of the big high-ceilinged room, and not until she had reached the hall did her feet waver or her head droop. when the two men were alone, garavel said, brokenly: "she is the first to bring disgrace upon our name. is there absolute proof that the man is guilty, ramon?" "proof?" alfarez turned dazed eyes from the door through which gertrudis had gone. "proof? i believe so. i have not thought much of the matter as yet, but--i think there will be proof in plenty. oh yes!" "come then. i must go to see him. perhaps--oh, god! perhaps what? my head is afire, my heart is broken for you, my poor boy." xxix a last appeal that was not a pleasant interview for anthony. his surroundings were not such as to lend him assurance, and garavel's grief at his daughter's disgrace was really distressing. moreover, the unequivocal threat to annul the marriage filled him with alarm. his only consolation came from the fact that gertrudis had made known the truth without the slightest hesitation. that showed that she was loyal, at any rate. kirk tried to assure his caller that he would have no trouble in proving his innocence, but garavel seemed very little concerned with that phase of the affair, and continued to bewail the dishonor that had fallen upon his name. kirk's pride arose at this, and he exclaimed with some heat: "my dear mr. garavel, if you are so blamed sure that i did all these things, why did you come to see me?" "it was to learn if she spoke the truth." "oh, we're married, right enough. and you'll have some difficulty in breaking it up before i get out." "you expect, then, to prove your innocence easily?" "i do." "but i hear there are other serious charges." "it is quite the same with them." "but--suppose you should not clear yourself of this--murder--would you wish to drag down my daughter's name?" "of course not." "i understand you have not spoken of this marriage. perhaps you might consent to remain silent. if by any chance you should be convicted of guilt, what satisfaction could you derive from injuring me and mine?" "none at all, sir." "i am rich," garavel went on, meaningly. "if you are acquitted, i might, perhaps, arrange amply for your future--upon conditions." "in other words, if i am to be hanged or shot or whatever it is they do to people down here, you'll expect me to keep my mouth shut on general principles, and if i'm acquitted you'll pay me well to disappear. is that it? well, there is some family pride to that." he laughed lightly. "my political future may depend upon it." "if i can help you in that way i'll gladly keep silent as long as you wish, but i don't think i care to make any further terms." "make sure of this," snapped the father, "your marriage will be annulled, no matter what you prove or fail to prove. already chiquita is repentant, and i shall not rest until she is free. you have done me a great injury, and i shall not forget it." on the following morning the leading american attorney of the city called at the jail, announcing that he had been retained as counsel, but refusing to tell who had employed him. supposing, of course, that he had been sent by friends who wished no publicity in the matter, kirk did not press him for information. together they outlined their defence as best they could. with characteristic optimism, kirk insisted upon treating the charge against him as of little consequence, and it was not until he had undergone his preliminary hearing that he fully realized the gravity of his situation. to his unspeakable indignation, the officer who had discovered cortlandt's body swore that he had seen the deceased pass him shortly before the time of his death, evidently taking a walk along the water's edge for relief from the heat, and that immediately afterward--perhaps a minute or so--the prisoner had also passed, going in the same direction! there was a street light close by, he said, and there could be no possible mistake as to anthony's identity. a few moments later there had been a pistol-shot, muffled, but unmistakable, and the policeman had hastened in the direction from which it came. the prisoner had appeared suddenly out of the darkness and hurried past. in the politest manner possible, the witness declared, he had questioned him regarding the shot, but mr. anthony had neither stopped nor answered; on the contrary, he had broken into a run. the officer had considered this strange behavior, but, being at all times most respectful toward americans, he had made no effort to detain him. passing on, he had found the body of the dead man. a revolver was beside it. it was shocking! it had quite upset the witness. he had blown his whistle, and seeing a light in the governor's mansion close by had called there for assistance. soon afterward another officer had arrived upon the scene. when this amazing testimony was translated to kirk he was astounded; but his indignation was as nothing to that which swept over him when a servant in the alfarez household swore to having actually witnessed the murder. this fellow declared that he had been troubled greatly with a toothache. toward morning of the night in question, too restless for sleep, he had gone out upon the sea wall. even now, his face was swollen, and he made a determined effort to show the court the particular tooth which had made him an unwilling beholder of the tragedy. overcome by exhaustion, he had fallen asleep after a time, and he was awakened by the sounds of a quarrel. on opening his eyes, he saw two americans, one of whom was senor cortlandt, and the other kirk anthony. being utterly ignorant of their language, he had no means of knowing what was said, nor did he consider the altercation serious until the large man shot the senor cortlandt. then, being terror-stricken at what he had beheld, he had run away, entirely forgetting his toothache, which, by the grace of god, was quite gone. that was all he knew of the matter. he recognized anthony as the man who had done the shooting. he was troubled greatly with toothaches. it all seemed like some grotesque, practical joke, and kirk at first could not believe that the evidence of these witnesses could have weight. but he soon became convinced that this was no laughing matter. since they had perjured themselves so readily, it was evident that some determined influence was back of them, and how far that influence might carry it was hard to tell. the reason for it was all very simple, of course, and yet he was at a loss how to combat it. wade was called next and told the story of that damning incident at the supper-party, being corroborated by the others. then there were several witnesses who swore to inconsequent things, such as waiters at the hotel central, and the doctor who had examined cortlandt. for once in his careless life the young man realized that he was face to face with something bigger and stronger than his own determination, and it daunted him. he began to see that he had underestimated these foreigners, for it seemed an easy matter to convict an innocent man in these central american courts. he recalled certain ridiculous stories of spanish justice which he had laughed at; he remembered mrs. cortlandt's vivid tale of an execution she had once beheld in the court-yard of chiriqui prison; and suddenly he decided to cable for darwin k. anthony--the one man who was strong enough to save him. when it came time for him to speak, he told a straight story about his own actions on that night, and he was corroborated by allan; but he knew that their words had little weight against that other testimony. of course, he was remanded for trial, and that night the newspapers of the city were crowded with columns of sensational reading-matter bearing upon the crime. anson, the lawyer, gave him a ray of encouragement as he left. "don't go too much on this hearing," he said. "i think we'll pull you out all right." "you think! i dare say ramon alfarez can get a dozen men to perjure themselves as easily as he got those two." "exactly. but i have a little coup that i intend to spring at the right moment." "for heaven's sake, tell me what it is." "i'm sorry, but i can't just yet. in the first place, one must handle these people exactly right or they explode." "but give me an idea at least. i'm really interested in the outcome of this case, you know." anson smiled. "of course you are, and i'll tell you as soon as i can, but not now." "these spiggoties would enjoy standing me up against a wall with my head in a rag--they'd make it a holiday and ring all the bells in town." "i can't assure you that it isn't serious," anson acknowledged, gravely, "for it is--any time an american goes to court in this country it is serious--but that doesn't mean that we'll lose." "you may be a good lawyer," said kirk, ruefully, "but you're a blamed poor comforter. i--i wish my dad was here; he'd fix it. he wouldn't let 'em convict me. he's great, my dad is. he can swear--like the devil." his voice caught, and his eyes were unusually bright as he turned away to hide his emotions. "i like him better than any man i've ever met, anson. and you watch him come when he hears i'm in trouble." he wrote a lengthy cablegram, which the lawyer, with a peculiar smile, agreed to despatch at once. he spent a sleepless night. in the morning a message came signed by copley--kirk's heart leaped at the familiar name--saying that darwin k. anthony had left albany for the west on sunday night, and could not be located for a few days. "he was never gone when i needed money," the son mused. "he'll be worried when he hears about this, and he has enough to worry him as it is. i'm mighty sorry, but--i simply must have him." anson brought in the day's papers, which alluded, as usual, to cortlandt's death as a murder, and printed their customary sensational stories, even to a rehash of all that had occurred at the stag supper. this in particular made kirk writhe, knowing as he did that it would reach the eyes of his newly made wife. he also wondered vaguely how edith cortlandt was bearing up under all this notoriety. the lawyer brought the further news that allan was in captivity as an accessory to the crime, and that henceforth kirk need expect but few visitors. somebody--probably ramon alfarez--had induced the officials to treat their prisoner with special severity. during the days which followed, kirk suffered more than he chose to confess even to his attorney. in the first place, it was hard to be denied all knowledge of what was going on--anson would tell him little, except that he was working every day--and, then, too, the long hours of solitude gnawed at his self-control. runnels managed to see him once or twice, reporting that, so far as he could learn, chiquita had disappeared. he took a message from kirk to her, but brought back word that he could not deliver it. kirk wondered if she could really believe those frightful half-complete newspaper accounts, or if she had been unable to withstand the combined weight of her whole family, and had given up. it was almost too much to hope that a girl reared as she had been could keep her mind unpoisoned, with all those lying tongues about her. and, besides, she had the spanish ideas of morality, which would make the actions of which he was accused seem doubly shocking. the more he speculated upon the cause of her silence, the wilder grew his fancies, until it became a positive torture to think of her at all. instead, his thoughts turned to edith cortlandt in a curiously uninterested way. her attitude was a problem. perhaps she would leave him to his fate. reviewing the circumstances coldly, he could hardly blame her. it was on sunday, a week after his arrest, that she came to him. he was surprised to see the ravages that this short time had made in her, for she was pale and drawn and weary-looking, as if from sleeplessness. strange to say, these marks of suffering did not detract from her appearance, but rather enhanced her poise and distinction. she was not even veiled. on the contrary, she had driven openly to the police barracks, and ordered her coachman to wait in the street outside, then demanded to be shown to anthony's cell. "i'm awfully glad to see you, mrs. cortlandt," he said, as she extended her hand. "but do you think it was wise for you to come?" she shrugged. "people can say no more than they have already said. my name is on every tongue, and a little more gossip can make matters no worse. i had to come. i just couldn't stay away. i wonder if you can realize what i have been through." "it must have been terrible," he said, gently. "yes, i have paid. it seems to me that i have paid for everything i ever did. those newspaper stories nearly killed me, but it wasn't that so much as the thought that you were suffering for my acts." "i'm very sorry. you never thought for a moment that i did what they claim?" "no, no! it has all been a mistake from the first. i was sure of that." "you heard what those two men testified?" "bah! that is ramon alfarez--but he can do nothing." "nothing! i don't call a week in the bastile 'nothing.' why, he has perjured two witnesses already, and i dare say he'll have the whole native population swearing against me when the trial comes up." "never mind. i have had no time to do anything as yet. there were--so many things to be attended to." she shuddered and sank down upon the edge of his cot. "stephen had a great many friends in various parts of the world; i have been swamped with cablegrams." "if my dad were here he'd have me free in a jiffy; he can do anything." "i don't think we'll need him," she said, in a way that comforted him somehow, though the feeling shamed him. she laid a soft hand upon his arm, and, looking up eagerly into his face, exclaimed: "you will forgive me for what i said that night at the hotel, won't you? i didn't really mean to injure you, kirk, but i was half hysterical. i had suffered so these last few months that i was ready to do anything. i was torn by two great desires, one to remain what i am and have always been, and the other--well, the other was the stronger, or would have been if you had allowed it. i never dreamed there was a way out of my misery, a way so close at hand; but somehow even before general alfarez' voice on the 'phone told me what had happened, i knew, and i--i felt--" "i know you had a great deal to put up with," he said, "but for both our sakes i wish it had come in some other way." "oh, i don't care," she cried, recklessly. "the one thing i can grasp in all this turmoil, the one thing that rings in my ears every moment, is that i am free, free! that is all that matters to me. you showed your loyalty to stephen more than once, and, though your scruples angered me, i honor you for them now. i can see, too, that you had no choice but to put me off even that night of the dance. but my chains are broken, and it is all different now." "your husband's death can make no difference with us, mrs. cortlandt," he said, gravely. "we have talked openly before, and there is no need to do otherwise now. you mean by that that you don't care for me, but i know better. i believe there is a love so strong that it must find an answer. although you may not care for me now as you care for--some one else--i know that i can make you forget her and put me in her place. i know men, and i know you. i came here prepared to be honest--shameless, if you like. i am young, i have money, i have power; i work for the love of doing things, and you are learning to do the same. i can help you, oh, so much! we can win happiness together just as easily as we can win material success, and that is ours now for the asking. it dazzles me to think of it, kirk. it is like a glimpse of paradise, and i can show it all to you." she was bending forward, her lips parted, the color gleaming in her cheeks, her whole face transformed by a passionate eagerness. "wait!" he said, harshly. "you force me to break my word. i don't want to tell you this, but--i am married." she rose slowly, her eyes fixed in bewilderment upon his, her hand clutching at his sleeve. "you--never told me that! it was some mad college prank, i suppose." "no, no. i married gertrudis garavel that night at the tivoli." "oh, that can't be. that was the night of the dance." "it is quite true." mrs. cortlandt stared about the squalid cell dully. "miss garavel! why didn't you tell me? why isn't she here? why does she leave you alone? no, no! you hardly know each other. why, she's not old enough to know her own mind--" "but i know my mind, and i love her." her white hands strained at each other as she steadied her shaking voice. "love!" she cried. "you don't know what love means, nor does she. she can't know, or she'd be here, she'd have this prison torn block from block." "i suppose her father would not let her come," said kirk, slowly, but edith did not seem to hear him. the realization of her broken hopes was coming home to her poignantly. "my happiness!" she exclaimed. "i have been unhappy so long! and i seemed to see it just within my reach. oh, kirk, she thinks you are guilty, she hasn't faith." "you have no right to say that." "see! i came to you when i was married and asked you to take me; i'll do the same with you now." "you don't know what you're saying. you're hysterical, mrs. cortlandt. i love gertrudis so deeply that there's no room in me for anything else, and never will be. heaven only knows what they have made her believe about me, but i don't care; i'll upset this little plot of alfarez's, and when she learns the truth she will come back again." "this little plot!" edith cried, in distraction. "and i suppose you wish me to give you back to her?" they confronted each other a moment in silence. "but i won't help her," she went on. "i'm not that sort. i'm a selfish woman. i've always been selfish because i've never had anybody to work for. but i have it in me to be generous." "i'm sorry," he said. "you have suffered, i know. don't trouble any more about me--please." she stared at him defiantly, although her whole frame was shaking as if from an ague. "oh, i'd rather face the gallows as you face it than what is before me, and i'm not sure i could help you, after all. you are in latin america now, remember, and your enemies are strong." "i am darwin k. anthony's son," he protested. "he won't allow it." "bah! he is an american, and these are spanish people. you have seen how they like us, and you have seen what alfarez can do. he's rich, and he'll perjure more witnesses, he'll manipulate the court with his money. yes, and i'd rather he succeeded than see you--no, no! what am i saying? l-let me go; let me get away from here!" she broke down, and went sobbing out into the corridor. the iron door clanged to behind her. on the same afternoon, mr. clifford, accompanied by anson, the lawyer, took the . train for colon. as soon as he arrived, he called up colonel jolson, to request that the commissioner's motor-car should, without fail, await him at ten o'clock sharp on the next morning, with an open track ahead of it. strangely enough, the colonel agreed very readily. xxx darwin k. anthony about noon on monday, edith cortlandt received a caller. the name she read on the card her maid handed her gave her a start of surprise, and set her wits whirling in speculation. "show him into the drawing-room," she said, at length. "i'll be right down." as she descended, a few moments later, she was greeted by a gigantic old man with a rumbling voice, who, instead of seating himself in the drawing-room as he had been requested, had flung open the carefully closed shutters to admit more light, then kicked aside whatever articles of furniture happened to be in his way. he was now pacing back and forth with the restlessness of a polar bear. "how do you do, mrs. cortlandt?" he began, at sight of her, his big voice flooding the room. "i'm sorry to disturb you under the circumstances." "you are mr. anthony?" "yes, madam. you'll pardon my intrusion. i knew your husband slightly, and i've heard about you. i extend my sympathy." she bowed. "when did you arrive?" "just now; came across in one of those damned joy-wagons--fifty miles an hour. we hit a nigger on the way, but we didn't stop. i know everything, madam. what i didn't know before i landed, i learned on the way across the isthmus, so don't let's waste time. hell of a position for you to be in--i understand and all that--and i'm sorry for you. now let's get down to business, for i must get back to new york." it was impossible not to feel darwin k. anthony's force; it spoke in his every tone and action. it looked out from his harsh-lined features, and showed in his energetic movements. he was a great granite block of a man, powerful in physique, in mind, and in determination. he had kirk's eyes, mrs. cortlandt noted, except that they were deeper set, more fierce and eager. she was not used to being overridden, and his masterful air offended her. "in what way may i be of service to you?" she inquired, coldly. "i want my boy," he said, simply, and she began to see that underneath his cold and domineering exterior his heart was torn by a great distress. "you know all the circumstances, of course?" "i do. that's why i came straight to you. i know you're the keystone of the whole affair, so i didn't waste time with these other people. kirk's a damned idiot, and always has been; he isn't worth the powder to blow him to--excuse me--i mean he's just a ne'er-do-well; but i suppose i'll have to do my duty by him." "i understand that has always been your attitude." "exactly! i got sick of his performances and cut him off; couldn't stand for him any longer. i tried my best to make a man out of him, but he wouldn't have it, so we severed our connections absolutely. i just kicked him out. sorry i didn't do it sooner." "if you have cut him off, why do you care what becomes of him?" darwin k. anthony's eyes dimmed, but his voice rose fiercely. "he's my boy, and i've a right to treat him any damned way i please, but nobody else is going to abuse him! these spaniards can't do it! i'll teach them to lay hands on my--boy." he tore a handkerchief from his pocket and blew a blast into it. "i'll tear their little republic to pieces," he shouted. "i'll buy the whole works and throw it away. i'll buy their president and their courts and their whole infernal population, and if they won't sell i've got enough men to take it. hell's bells, madam, do you think these little black people can shoot my son? i don't care what he's done, they've got to give him up. and he's going back with me. he's going home; i--i--want him." "why have you come to me?" she queried. "because you must know the truth, if anybody does, and i want your help." his voice softened suddenly, and he regarded her with a gentle kindness that was surprising. "i've heard all about you and kirk. in fact, i've known what was going on all the time, for i've had a man on his track night and day. you may know him--clifford? well, he followed kirk that night after the supper to your husband, but anson didn't dare call him to the stand at the hearing for fear this alfarez would perjure more of his black-and-tans." he ground his teeth in rage. "by god! i'll get that ramon, if it costs me a million--they can't stand for such things even here. but i want more proof; i want to snow him under absolutely, completely." "so clifford is your man?" "yes! i took him off my system and sent him down here as soon as i got kirk's idiotic, impudent letter--" the old man began to sputter with indignation. "what d'you think he wrote me, mrs. cortlandt? he had the impudence to turn down a good job i offered him because 'his wife might not like our climate!' imagine! and i had positively begged him to come back--on any terms. of course, it gave me an awful scare, and i lost no time in learning if it was true. thank god, he had sense enough not to do that!" "then you don't know?" "know what?" "that he is married." "damnation!" roared anthony, furiously. she nodded. "a miss garavel. they were married a--week ago." she broke down miserably and hid her face in her hands. he strode to her with a light of understanding in his eyes. laying a great hand upon her drooping head, he exclaimed with wonderful softness: "my dear mrs. cortlandt, i'm very sorry for you, indeed i am. how the boy ever let you go for any other woman i don't see, but he's always been a fool--that's why he never cared for me. now, now, try to face it squarely--all good women are brave, and you're a good woman. we both love him, and i know we can save him if we pull together." "yes, yes!" she raised her drawn, white face eagerly to his. "it will only take a word, but i have been like a mad woman. i couldn't bear to give him up, and when i learned the truth i thought i could let him--suffer. but i couldn't. oh, i couldn't, and i knew it all the time. i was distracted, that is all. you see i have no shame in telling you this, for he is the first and only man--" "i know." he patted her in a way that said more than words. "i couldn't have stood out much longer." "then you have proof?" his face was wild with eagerness. "this. take it quickly. i only found it last night. it had been mislaid in the confusion. i meant to give it up, i really did." with clumsy fingers she drew from the front of her dress an unsealed letter and handed it to him. "stephen was not a bad man, you see, and he had no intention of wronging an innocent person." darwin k. anthony's pallor matched hers as he read the sheet, then he exclaimed, weakly, "thank god! something told me to come straight to you. something always tells me where to find the heart of things." "quick! you must lose no time," she exclaimed. "he is in prison, and the place is frightful. i will go with you to the mayor. ah, i'm very glad he will get his freedom from your hands. i was so weak. when this is done i shall go back north and try to live it out. but i love him very dearly, mr. anthony." her lip trembled piteously. "and i could have done so much for him." grim-faced and scowling he re-read the letter in his hand during the moment it required for edith to make ready. the injustice that had been done his blood roused every passion in him. he had himself well in hand, however, and he restrained his yearning to burst forcibly into the police barracks and take his boy to his heart. he determined there should be no possible slip--and he longed ferociously to meet ramon alfarez. kirk was considerably surprised that afternoon when a sergeant and two policemen came to his cell, signifying that he was to accompany them. he could not make out where they were taking him, and, despite their unusual politeness, they were dense to all inquiries. it was a bright, hot afternoon, and the city seemed very beautiful and desirous as he was driven through it; but the whole procedure filled him with uneasiness. he was sure that it had nothing to do with his trial, or anson would have posted him, and he began to fear that it might concern his marriage. perhaps chiquita was ill, dying, or perhaps they were trying to annul the bond. the smiling little officer only shook his head, shrugged, and chattered unintelligibly at his questions. the coach drew up at last before a large, white building, and he was told to descend. up a flight of stairs he was escorted, his pulses quickening with apprehension, down a long corridor, and into a large room, where he saw runnels, colonel jolson, anson, clifford, a dozen or more panamanian officials, and--he stopped in his tracks as his eyes fell upon a huge, white-crowned figure that came to meet him. his heart leaped wildly, a great drumming set up in his ears, something gripped his throat with agonizing pressure and robbed him of speech. a certain harsh yet tender voice pronounced his name. he felt his hands crushed in his father's palms, found the old man's arm about his shoulders, and saw the deep-set, steel-blue eyes he loved so well wet and shiny. then, for once and for all time, he realized that in the whole wide world there was but one man who really mattered, one man for whom he honestly cared. a sudden sense of security swept over him, banishing all his fears. the room with its smiling faces became blurred and distant; a thousand words of endearment sprang to his lips. what he really said was: "hello!" and even that he pronounced as shyly as a girl. "my kid!" the old man said, shakingly. "h-how have they treated you, buster?" it was a nickname he had given his son when he was a sturdy, round-faced urchin of eight, and which he had laid away regretfully in lavender, so to speak, when the boy grew to manhood. "you came, didn't you?" kirk said, in a voice not at all like his own. "i knew you'd come." "of course i came, the instant clifford cabled me that these idiots had arrested you. by god! they'll sweat for this. how are you anyhow, kirk? dammit, you need a shave! wouldn't they give you a razor? hey! clifford, colonel jolson, come here! these scoundrels wouldn't give him a shave." darwin k. anthony's eyes began to blaze at this indignity, and he rumbled on savagely: "oh, i'll smash this dinky government--try to convict my kid, eh? i suppose you're hungry, too; well, so'm i. we'll be out of here in a minute, then you show me the best place in town and we'll have a decent meal, just we two, the way we used to. i'll pay the bill. god almighty! i've missed you, buster." "wait, dad." kirk was smiling, but his heart ached at his father's emotion. "i'm a jail-bird, you know. they think i--killed a fellow. but i don't care much what they think now." "that's all over," clifford broke in. "we've squared that, and you'll be discharged in ten minutes." "honest?" "certainly," said the old gentleman. "cortlandt shot himself. anybody but a blithering spanish ass would have known it at the start. we have a letter he wrote to his wife an hour before he did it. she just found it and turned it over. she left here a moment ago, by-the-way, all broken up. she's a great woman, kirk. that's not all, either. clifford followed you that night, and knows you didn't go near cortlandt. oh, you should have seen 'em jump when we flashed it on 'em all at once and they learned who i was!" "but those men who swore they saw me?" "bah! we've got that little dago with the mustache, and both his witnesses. if they don't send him up, i'll run in a shipload of my brakemen, and we'll push this isthmus overboard and him with it." "i knew you could fix things." "fix 'em! fix 'em! that's easy! say, how have you been getting along, anyhow?" "great!" "and you married one of these panamanicures, eh?" the father scowled. "lord! i can trust you to make a fool of yourself." "say, dad. she's only--so big." anthony junior indicated his wife's stature, smiling rapturously. "dwarf, eh?" "oh no!" "love her?" "do i? it's fierce." "humph! you'll have to get over it. i'll pay your debts and take care of you, but i can't stand a mulatto around me." "there aren't any debts, and she's not a mulatto. she's a--dream." "they're waiting, mr. anthony," clifford made bold to say. "i think we'd better get this over with." kirk paid little attention to the formalities of the next few minutes. he was too busy with thoughts of his amazing good-fortune, his mind was too dazzled by the joy of freedom. allan appeared from somewhere and clung to him in an ecstasy of delight. colonel jolson, runnels, anson, even the panamanian officials shook hands with him. he accepted their congratulations mechanically, meanwhile keeping very close to his father's side. some time later he found himself out in the open sunlight a free man once more, with darwin k. anthony and runnels on either side of him. but before he had gone a block, he halted suddenly, saying: "williams! i'd forgotten him and his warrant." "he's fixed," runnels explained. "while your father and mrs. cortlandt and colonel jolson were getting you out of jail, clifford and i told him the truth. he's rather a decent fellow. they have caught the real jefferson locke, or whatever his name is." "no!" "yes; a week ago. he landed in boston; couldn't stay away from his own country any longer. williams hadn't heard of it." "what has become of higgins?" kirk inquired of his father. anthony senior exploded: "oh, he's back scorching up the tenderloin as usual, but you'll have to cut him out, or i'll leave you here. that's final, understand?" "i intend to stay here, anyhow." "huh?" the old man turned with a start. "i'm damned if you do." then, savagely: "what do you suppose i came down here for? i'm lonesome. i want you to come home." kirk smiled craftily and looked at runnels. "well, what can you offer? i'm doing pretty well as it is, and i can't afford to lay off." his father in turn appealed to the acting superintendent. "see! it's nothing less than blackmail. is he any good, mr. runnels?" "if there weren't so much politics in this job, he'd be master of transportation of the p. r. r. that's doing pretty well, isn't it? we're both going to quit and look for new work." "do you drink, kirk?" "i haven't even had an alcohol rub since i left new york. but, dad, if you place me, you'll have to take care of runnels, too. he knows more about railroads than--you do." mr. anthony grunted a trifle sceptically at this and murmured: "he must be a bright young man. i suppose what he doesn't know, you do. well, how would you both like to come north and give me some lessons?" "do you mean it?" they cried in chorus. "i do." "oh, there's allan, too, he'll have to go." "any cats and dogs you'd like to have drawing salary from me? now let's go somewhere and eat. i haven't tasted anything to speak of since clifford's message came." "if you don't mind, i--i'd like to stop at the garavels' for a minute," kirk said, longingly, and his father scowled. "i'd forgotten this--wife of yours." "she's not there," runnels hastened to say. "i've tried to find her, but i was told she was out at the country place." "then i think i'd rather drive out there than eat. won't you go with me, dad?" "well--yes! i want to see this banker fellow, and--i'm not so damned hungry, after all. we'll settle this thing right now." the afternoon sun was still an hour high when kirk anthony came down the hill from the garavels' home and crossed the meadow toward the forest glade he knew so well. the grateful coolness of evening was stealing downward, and nature was roused from her midday lethargy. it was the vibrant, active hour when odors are freshest and spirits rise. the forest was noisy with the cry of birds, and flocks of shrill-voiced paroquets raised an uproar in the tallest trees. the dense canopy of green overhead was alive with fluttering wings; the groves echoed to the cries of all the loud-voiced thicket denizens. the pastured cattle, which had sauntered forth from shaded nooks, ceased their grazing to stare with gentle curiosity at the hurrying figure. of course they recognized a lover speeding to his tryst, and gave him passage, shaking their heads at one another and wagging their ears in knowing fashion. he faltered a bit despite his haste, for this nook had grown sacred to him, and even yet he felt that it was haunted. the laughter of the waterfall helped to drown the sound of his approach, but he surprised no dancing wood-sprites. instead, he saw what filled his heart with a greater gladness than he had ever known. chiquita was there, huddled upon the seat where they had rested together, one foot curled beneath her like a child, her head bowed down disconsolately. from one brown hand, now drooping listlessly, a few wild flowers had scattered, and her slim figure was clad once more in the stiff, coarse denim dress of blue. her other hand was toying with her beads mechanically, as if the fingers had learned their task from long practice. her dusky eyes were fast upon the lights that wavered in the pool. as if to prove that the spot was really peopled by kind spirits, a gentle voice seemed to whisper the news to her, and she turned to find him smiling at her. she rose and met him with her hands outstretched, her face transfigured. after a time she leaned backward in his arms, and said, gravely: "you see! when one says many, many prayers, the good saints always answer. the padre told me that i should never cease until you came, but i grew very tired, senor." "and you never doubted me?" "oh no!" "i'm free, you know." "of course! what else were my prayers for? had my father allowed, i would have gone to your prison, but he forbade it, so i had no choice. but every hour i prayed that he might give me leave, and i think his heart was yielding." "i'm sure of that," he told her, "for i have just come from him." it was some time later, when the sun was dipping, that voices sounded outside the wall of verdure, and kirk heard andres garavel saying: "of a certainty i shall try that experiment, senor, for the ticks in this country are a pest to cattle. a little to the right, and you will find the path--so!" an instant later the two white-haired men appeared. "hello! there you are, eh?" darwin k. anthony exclaimed, gruffly. "where's that girl?" he paused and let his hostile eyes rest upon gertrudis. she saw a great, forbidding giant of a man scowling down at her with eyes like kirk's, and she came forward timidly, holding out her hands. she was smiling up at him faintly. "you are keerk's father, yes? you are the senor antonio." mr. anthony uttered a curious, choking exclamation, and gathered her gently in his arms. when he looked up, his eyes were wet and his deep-lined face was working. "i couldn't wait any longer," he apologized humbly to his son. "i had to come and see her." "ah, then i hope you will like me," she said in her grave, quaint way. "your father has told me everything"--garavel laid a hand upon his new son's shoulder--"and we have become good friends already. i fear i owe you a great apology, my boy; but if i consent that you take my little girl away to your country, will that be reparation?" "then you will let her go with us?" kirk cried, happily. "if she doesn't go, i'll stay," anthony senior rumbled. "i--i don't see how you ever did it, you're such a blamed fool. now let's go back to the house, it's sundown." "we'll be along directly," his son assented. "there are chills in the evening air," mr. garavel protested. "i'm sorry, but we were waiting for the fairies. they were almost in sight when you frightened them away." gertrudis nodded. "it is quite true, senor antonio. we heard them all about, everywhere." she placed her little hand in kirk's, then checked her father's remonstrance, saying: "oh, it is quite proper for us to walk home together, even in the dark; we are married now, you know." "come on, garavel," exclaimed darwin k. anthony. "you understand how it is." together they went out through the fragrant path a little way, then old man anthony paused and called back to his son, wistfully: "but, i say, kirk, don't stay too long; we're lonesome." the end etext transcriber's note: although several typographical errors have been corrected, the variation in the use of spanish accents has not been altered (ie. both senor and señor [tilde n] appear.) the index included at the end of this etext (which includes volumes thru ) appears at the end of volume four of _the history of cuba_. it is provided here for convenience. the history of cuba by willis fletcher johnson a.m., l.h.d. author of "a century of expansion," "four centuries of the panama canal," "america's foreign relations" honorary professor of the history of american foreign relations in new york university _with illustrations_ volume one [illustration] new york b. f. buck & company, inc. fifth avenue copyright, , by century history co. _all rights reserved_ entered at stationers hall london, england. printed in u. s. a. to the republic of cuba conceived by jose marti established by thomas estrada palma vindicated by mario g. menocal preface it is my purpose in these volumes to write a history of cuba. the title may imply either the land and its natural conditions, or the people and the nation which inhabit it. it in fact implies both, and to both i shall address myself, though it will appropriately be with the latter rather than with the former that the narrative will be most concerned. for it is with cuba as with other countries: in the last supreme analysis the people make the history of the land. apart from the people, it is true, the island of cuba is of unusual interest. there are few countries of similar extent comparable with it in native variety, charm and wealth. there are few which contribute more, actually and potentially, to the world's supplies of greatly used products. one of the most universally used and prized vegetable products became first known to mankind from cuba, and there to this day is most profusely and most perfectly grown and prepared; while another, one of the most universally used and essential articles of food, is there produced in its greatest abundance. there also may be found an immense number and bewildering variety of the most serviceable articles in both the vegetable and mineral kingdoms, in noteworthy profusion and perfection, together with possibilities and facilities for a comparable development of the animal kingdom. nor is the geographical situation of the island less favorable or less inviting than its natural resources. lying just within the torrid zone, it has a climate which combines the fecund influences of the tropics with the agreeable moderation of the temperate zones. it fronts at once upon the most frequented ocean of the globe and upon two of the greatest and most important semi-inland seas. it lies directly between the two great continents of the western hemisphere, with such supremely fortunate orientation that travel and commerce between them naturally skirt and touch its shores rather than follow the longer and more difficult route by land which is the sole alternative. a line drawn from the heart of the united states to the heart of south america passes through the heart of cuba. a line drawn from the mouth of the mississippi to the mouth of the amazon traverses cuba almost from end to end. circled about the island and fronting on the narrow seas which divide them from it are the territories of no fewer than fourteen independent national sovereignties. it lies, moreover, directly in the path of the world's commerce between the two great oceans, the atlantic and the pacific, by the way of that gigantic artificial waterway which, created largely because of cuba, was the fulfilment of the world's four centuries of effort and desire. there is scarcely a more suggestive and romantic theme in the world's history than this: that columbus made his epochal adventure for the prime purpose of finding a passageway from the atlantic to the pacific; or rather from europe to asia by way of the atlantic, since he assumed the atlantic and the pacific to be one; that, failing to find that non-existent passageway, he found cuba instead and imagined that he had found therein the fulfilment of his dreams; that four centuries later that passageway was artificially provided through the enterprise and energy of a power which in his day had not yet come into existence; and that this transcendent deed was accomplished largely because of cuba and because of the conflict through which that island violently divorced herself from the imperial sovereignty which columbus had planted upon her shores. lying thus in a peculiar sense at the commercial centre of the world, between north america and south america, between europe and asia, between all the lands of the atlantic and all the lands of the pacific and subject to important approach from all directions, we must reckon it not mere chance but the provision of benevolent design that cuba at almost all parts of her peculiarly ample coastline is endowed with a greater number of first-rate harbors than any other country of the world. in recognition of these facts and of their gradual development and application to the purposes and processes of civilization, is a theme worthy to pique the interest and to absorb the attention of the most ambitious historian, whether for the mere chronicling of conditions and events, or for the philosophical analysis of causes and results. all these things, however, fascinating as they are and copious as is their suggestion of interest, are after all only a minor and the less important part of the real history of cuba, such as i must endeavor to write. without the cuban people, cuba would have remained a negligible factor in the equations of humanity. without the people of the island, "what to me were sun or clime?" the genial climate, the fecund soil, the wealth of mines and field and forest, the capacious harbors and the encircling seas, all would be vanity of vanities. nor is it for nothing that i have suggested differentiation between the cuban people and the cuban nation. without the development of the former into the latter, all these things could never have hoped to reach their greatest value and utility. the cuban people have existed for four centuries, the cuban nation in its consummate sense for less than a single generation. yet in the latter brief span more progress has been made toward realization of cuba's possibilities and destinies than in all those former ages. it is a circumstance of peculiar significance that almost the oldest of all civilized communities in the western hemisphere should be the youngest of all the nations. it will be a task of no mean magnitude, but of unsurpassed profit and pleasure, to trace the deliberate development of that early colony into this late nation, and to observe the causes and forces which so long repressed and thwarted the sovereign aspirations of the cuban people, and also, more gratefully, the causes and forces which inevitably, in the slow fullness of time, achieved their ultimate fulfilment in the secure establishment of the cuban nation. the origin of the cuban people presents a striking historical and ethnological anomaly. the early settlers of the island, and therefore the progenitors of the present cuban people, were beyond question the flower of the spanish race at the very time when that race was at the height of its marvellous puissance and efficience. the sixteenth century was the golden age of spain, and they were conspicuous representatives of those who made it so who implanted the genius of their time upon the hospitable soil of the great west indian island. that rule has been, indeed, common to the colonial enterprises of all lands. the best men become the pioneers. colonization implies adventure, and adventure implies courage, enterprise, endurance, vision, prudence, the very essential elements of both individual and civic greatness. strong men, not weaklings, are the founders of new settlements. even in those lands which were largely populated involuntarily, as penal settlements, the same rule holds good; because many of the convict exiles were merely political proscripts, who in fact were men of virtue, light and leading, often superior to those who banished them. there is fruit for almost endless thought and speculation in the circumstance that so many of the early cuban settlers, as indeed of all the spanish explorers and conquerors of the sixteenth century, came from the two iberian provinces of estremadura and seville. they were, and are, two of the most widely contrasting provinces of spain. the one a rude, rugged, half sterile region of swineherds and mountaineers, poverty-stricken and remote; the other plethoric with the wealth of agriculture, industry and commerce, and endowed above most regions of the world with the treasures of learning and art. yet it was from barren, impoverished and uncultured estremadura that there came cortez, pizarro, balboa, de soto, and their compeers and followers. we might speculate upon the questions whether great men were thus numerously produced by nature in that region by way of compensation for the paucity and poverty of other products; and whether it was because of their innate genius or because of their desire to seek a better land than their own, that they became the adventurers that they were. the other province which most contributed to the founding of cuba had from time immemorial been noted for its wealth and culture. in the days of the cæsars it had been the favorite colonial resort of the plutocracy and aristocracy of rome, and it had been the birthplace of the emperors hadrian, trajan and theodosius. under the catholic kings it was the capital and the metropolis of spain and the chief mart of her world-wide commerce. indeed it would not be difficult to establish the proposition that it was with the removal of the capital from seville to madrid, and the change of national and international policy which was inseparably associated with that removal, that the decline of spain began. cuba was thus in her foundation the fortunate recipient of the rugged and masterful spirit of estremadura, and of the elements of government and of social grace and intellectual power which seville could so well and so abundantly supply; and these two contrasting yet by no means incompatible elements became characteristic of the cuban people; complementarily contributing to the development of a national character quite distinct from that of the mother country or that of any other of her offshoots. for the cuban people and their social organism, separated far from spain, though subject to her rule, retained largely unimpaired their pristine vigor, and avoided sharing in the degeneracy and decline which befell the peninsula soon after the malign hapsburg influence became dominant in its affairs of state; a decline which in the seventeenth century became one of the most distressing and pathetic tragedies in the drama of the world. it was an interesting and a significant circumstance, too, that while spain was resplendent and exultant in the golden age of the sixteenth century, cuba remained intellectually dormant and inactive, and that when at the end of the eighteenth century spain reached her nadir of degradation, cuba began to rise to intellectual puissance. while spain was great, it was to be said of cuba _stat nominis umbra_; but when spain declined, cuba arose to take her place, insistent that the race and its letters, at least, should not universally fall into decay. * * * * * it is one of the anomalies of cuban history that while the island was denied the enjoyment of even those incipient and inchoate intimations of potential nationality which were granted to other spanish provinces, such as mexico, venezuela, colombia and peru, it was nevertheless, perhaps more than any other, involved from early times in the international complications and conflicts of spain. at least equally with the mainland coasts cuba's shores were ravaged by pirates and freebooters, and were attacked or menaced by the commissioned fleets of hostile powers. her insular character and her geographical position doubtless accounted for this in great degree, as did also the purblind policy of spain in failing to give her the care and protection which were lavished upon other no more worthy possessions. so it came to pass that for a time cuba was actually conquered and seized by an alien power and was forcibly separated from spanish sovereignty; and that for many years thereafter she was the object of covetous desire and indeed of almost incessant intrigue for acquisition by two of spain's chief rivals and adversaries. for nearly half a century great britain and france were frequently, almost continuously, each planning to annex cuba as a colonial possession, either by conquest in war or through barter or purchase in time of peace. it was not until a third great power arose and asserted in unmistakable terms its paramount interest in the island, only a little while previous to our own time, that such designs were reluctantly forsaken. it was the interesting fortune of cuba, therefore, not only to engage the early and earnest diplomatic interest of the united states in her behalf, but also to afford to that country occasion for the conception, formulation and promulgation of perhaps the most important of all the fundamental principles of its state policy in international affairs. we have suggested, in anticipation of the narrative, that cuba was largely to be credited with the inception of the impulse for the prompt construction of the isthmian canal. in a far more valid and direct sense cuba suggested the enunciation of the monroe doctrine. it is true that in relation first to louisiana and then to florida there had previously been preliminary hints at and approximations to that doctrine. but those were territories contiguous with our own and already marked by the united states for eventual annexation and incorporation. cuba, on the contrary, was entirely detached from our domain, and while there were then those who anticipated and desired her ultimate annexation, there was no such confident and determined resolution to that effect that there was in the case of the other regions named. cuba was therefore the first detached country, not destined for annexation, to which the united states extended and applied the fundamental principle which was later developed into the monroe doctrine. we may not doubt that the monroe doctrine would have been put forward, even had it not been for cuba. we may not deny nor dispute that it was because of cuba and concerning cuba that the first specific and indubitable intimation of that doctrine was given. the development of american policy toward cuba is an important and interesting part of the history of the united states as well as of cuba. the progressively significant utterances of the younger adams, of clay and of forsythe, culminating years afterward in those of cleveland and mckinley, form one of the most consistent, logical and convincing chapters in american diplomatic history. it is marred, we must confess, by some adventitious excrescences, chiefly contributed by calhoun and pierre soule. yet even these, deplorable as they ever must be regarded, fail to destroy the symmetry of the whole. it is a chapter, indeed, which more than any other is comprehensive and expository of the whole spirit and trend of american international transactions. cuba has also been intimately connected with three great issues of american domestic politics, as well as with that supreme principle of her foreign policy. the first of these was that of human slavery. from the end of the second war with great britain to the beginning of the civil war that issue dominated american politics and therefore determined largely the american attitude toward cuba. the pro-slavery influences, which were generally paramount at washington, resisted all efforts, which otherwise might have been successful, to draw cuba into the community of republics freed from spanish rule in central and south america, because of unwillingness to have her become, like them, free soil; and subsequently the same influences planned and plotted and fought for cuban annexation to the united states, either by conquest or by purchase, in order that she might thus be added to the slave-holding domain. on the other hand, the anti-slavery party, because of its abhorrence of these schemes, opposed the manifestation of what would have been a quite legitimate and benevolent interest in cuban affairs. for forty years cuba was a pawn in the game between these contending factions. of course this issue was disposed of by the civil war and the consequent abolition of slavery in the united states. another issue was that of expansion. there was from the first a considerable party in the united states that favored the widest possible acquisition of territory, sometimes quite regardless of the means, and it early fixed upon cuba as what jefferson and the younger adams had declared it to be, the most interesting and most natural addition that could be made to the federal system. there was also a party that was resolutely opposed to any further extension of american territorial sovereignty, whether by conquest or purchase. sometimes the one and sometimes the other of these prevailed in american politics, and not infrequently cuba was the chief issue between them. ultimately it was over cuba that their greatest conflict was waged; resulting in a compromise, under which the united states on the one hand renounced all designs of annexing cuba, and on the other hand did annex other still more extensive territories. the third of these issues was that of the tariff. commercial relations between cuba and the united states were naturally intimate and important to both countries, and afforded scope for almost endless discussions concerning and manipulations of tariff duties. it was in the power of the united states to enhance or to depress the prosperity of cuba, by the adjustment of tariff rates. to admit cuban sugar, not to mention tobacco, freely or at a low duty, into the american market meant prosperity for the island. to place a high tariff rate upon it meant hard times if not disaster in cuba. during the period between the ten years' war and the war of independence in cuba, such tariff changes very seriously affected the economic and also the political condition of cuba; and the final withdrawal of the reciprocity arrangement which had opened american markets to cuba was one of the chief provoking causes of the final revolution in the island. that revolution would doubtless have come, in any case, but it was measurably hastened and exacerbated by the economic distress which was thus precipitated upon the island, and against which it was realized there could be no assurance until cuba was an independent nation with full power to regulate and control her own commerce and her own economic system. even then, as we shall see, for a time the island was involved in economic distress because of the unwillingness of certain sordid interests in the united states to perform the most obvious and indisputable moral duty of that country toward its neighbor. there are few passages which the friendly historian must more regret to record in the story of cuban-american relations than that of the delay of the american congress to enter into proper commercial reciprocity with cuba as soon as the independence of that island was established. * * * * * we shall see in these pages why it was necessary, from the very beginning, for cuba to be entirely freed and divorced from all political connection with spain, and why all the various proposals of autonomy were essentially and inevitably unacceptable. such proposals were repeatedly made, by the spanish government, but they were invariably either consciously or unconsciously delusive. the story of spain's promises to cuba is a story of broken promises, and of disappointed hopes. nor is that to be wondered at by those who take into consideration the circumstances in which the promises were made. when the impossible is promised, the promise is doomed to non-fulfilment. spain was in an impossible position. in order to pacify cuba she had to promise her reforms, autonomy, liberty. but in order to maintain herself at home she had to repudiate those promises. their fulfilment in the west indies would have been disastrous in the iberian peninsula. while spain was a reactionary monarchy at home, she could not practice liberal and progressive democracy in her colonies. even when her monarchy became constitutional, and even during the brief periods of her republican government, the full concession of cuba's demands would have been incompatible with her domestic status. there was an irreconcilable conflict between the european system--even european republicanism--and the american system. spain was compelled for the sake of her peninsular integrity and tranquillity to adhere to the former, while cuba would be and could be contented with nothing short of the latter. such were the terms of the problem which arose in the early part of the nineteenth century. its only possible solution was in the complete separation of the two countries, and the complete independence of cuba. we must not wonder, however, at the circumstance that this was not universally recognized at first, but that year after year some of the wisest and best of cuban patriots strove merely for reforms in government under continued and perpetual union with the spanish crown, and that they even deprecated and opposed all efforts at independence. we must not wonder, even, that so late as the war of independence some of the foremost cuban statesmen, who yielded precedence to none in purity of purpose and in sincere devotion to what they regarded as the best interests of the island, were willing and even proud to be known as autonomists and to essay the impossible task of trying to make an autonomist government successful. the cubans of to-day, with vision cleared of the red glare of war and of the mists of misapprehension, doubtless understand what the conditions were at that time and appreciate the motives, however mistaken they proved to me, of the autonomists. american readers, with less vision and comprehension of cuban affairs, should equally understand the matter when they are reminded that the cuban autonomists were merely following the example of some of the men whom americans most delight to honor. for precisely the same conditions prevailed, only to a much wider extent, in the thirteen colonies at the beginning of the american revolution, when washington and franklin and jefferson and jay were american autonomists, inexorably opposed to independence. lexington, concord and bunker hill were fought not for independence but for autonomy under the british crown and in perpetual union with the british empire. when the first continental congress met in the spring of there was no word, at least, of independence. on the contrary, according to some of the very foremost members of that historic body, the idea of independence, at least in the middle and southern colonies, was "as unpopular as the stamp act itself." not only did that congress complete its course without saying a word for independence, but it adopted an address to the people of great britain declaring that the reports which had got abroad that the colonies wanted independence were "mere calumnies," and that nothing was desired but equality of rights with their fellow subjects in the british isles. the second colonial congress met after lexington and concord and just before bunker hill. john adams and thomas jefferson were members of it. but they spoke no word for independence. instead, jefferson drafted a declaration, which congress adopted, to the effect that the colonies had "not raised armies with designs of separating from great britain and establishing independent states"; and in other addresses which the same congress adopted after the battle of bunker hill it was explicitly stated that the colonists were loyal to the british crown, that they wished for lasting union with great britain, and that they had taken up arms not to find liberty outside of the british empire but to vindicate and defend liberty within that empire. after the adjournment of that congress in august, , less than a year before the declaration of independence, so representative a man and so ardent a patriot as john jay publicly denounced the imputation that the congress had "aimed at independence" as "ungenerous and groundless," and as marked with "malice and falsity." not until the spring of was there any significant turning toward independence as the inevitable resort. if i have thus dwelt at length upon well-known facts which pertain to the history of the united states rather than to that of cuba, it is in order to remind american readers, on the strength of a precedent which they, at any rate, must regard with the highest respect, how reasonable it was for cubans even as late as in and to cling to a policy and a hope substantially identical with those which were cherished by the foremost representative american patriots in and . we can see now, they themselves can see now, that they were in error and that their hopes were vain. but they were no more in error than were the immortal american autonomists of the beginning of the american revolution. similarly it was necessary that cuba should not only be entirely separated from spain but also should be made independent, and not be annexed to the united states. on that point, too, many good men were in error. as we shall see, the first important cuban revolutionist--although not himself a native cuban--had in view not independence but annexation to the united states, and so did many another sterling patriot after him. probably the general feeling was that the one thing supremely essential was to be sundered from spain, and since annexation to the united states seemed to promise the effecting of that most promptly, most easily and most surely, it was to be accepted as the best solution of the problem. of course, too, the annexation sentiment in cuba was greatly encouraged and promoted by the advocates of annexation in the united states, who were numerous, and aggressive, and actuated by a variety of motives. for three fundamental reasons, however, annexation would have been a deplorable mistake, for both parties. one was, that the cuban people at heart wanted independence and would permanently have been satisfied with nothing less. every other spanish colony in the western hemisphere had attained independent sovereignty, and it would have been a reproach to cuba to have been satisfied with any less status than theirs. the second reason was that cuba and the united states were incompatible in temperament, and could not have got on well together. that is to be said without the slightest reflection upon either. the two countries were of different racial stocks, different languages, different traditions, different civic ideals. it was and is possible for them to be the best of friends and neighbors, but that is quite different from being yoke-fellows. the third reason was, that cuba would not have thought of annexation without statehood in the federal union, to which the united states would not or at any rate should not have admitted her. nor is that any reflection upon cuba. the principle was established by governmental utterances, nearly half a century before cuban independence was achieved, and indeed before any important efforts were made by the united states to purchase cuba, that outlying territories not contiguous with the continental union of states, were not to be considered as fitting candidates for statehood. had cuba been acquired by the united states at any time it is certain that her admission as a state would have been vigorously opposed on that historic ground. the sequel would have been either that cuba would have been excluded from the union, to her entire and intense dissatisfaction, or the united states would have abandoned a highly desirable policy and would have established a precedent under which grave abuses might thereafter have occurred. the redemption of cuba from spanish rule was long delayed, for a number of reasons. one was, obviously, the difficulty of achieving it alone. the south and central american provinces had revolted simultaneously, or in rapid succession, so that each was of assistance to the others. but at that time cuba remained faithful to spain; and when years afterward she sought to follow the example of the others, she found that she had to do so single-handed against the undivided might of the peninsula. another very potent reason was, the strength of the pro-spanish sentiment and influence in the island, caused by the flocking thither of many spanish loyalists from the central and south american states and from santo domingo. here, too, american readers may interpret cuban conditions through reference to their own history. at the close of the american revolution multitudes of british loyalists left the united states and settled in upper canada, with the result that that province of ontario became proverbially "more british than great britain." we shall see in our narrative how strong the spanish loyalist party in cuba was, and to what extremes it went in its opposition to cuban independence. in that we may perceive simply a repetition of conditions which prevailed at the close of the american war of independence. it is probable, too, that the insular position of cuba, with her coastal waters controlled by the spanish fleet, and her central position, making her an object of intense international interest and intrigue, also contributed to the same end. of course, too, since cuba and porto rico were her last remaining possessions in the western world, spain made extraordinary efforts to retain them and to prevent the success of any revolutionary movement. one other influence must be noted, that of the united states. if at any time the counsels of that country had been harmonious and united, they would have had a powerful, perhaps a preponderating, effect upon cuban affairs. but as we have intimated, and as we shall more fully see in our narrative, they were strongly, often violently, divided. some were for intervention, some were for non-intervention; some were for making cuba a free country, some were for preserving it as a slaveholding land; some were for aiding it to become independent, some were for annexing it to the united states. there was no unity of policy, and therefore there was no assurance as to what the united states would do in any given emergency. cubans did not know what they could depend upon. if they revolted, america might help them, and she might not. there can be no question that this uncertainty was a potent factor in restraining cubans from radical action, and that it materially postponed the final crisis. * * * * * we shall see that more and more, however, the united states was forced by the logic of irresistible events into adopting a united and consistent policy toward cuba, and that in the ultimate crisis that country was inextricably implicated with the cuban cause. this was indeed a logical development. in each successive cuban revolution, beginning with that of lopez, the united states had been increasingly interested. commercial and social relations between the two countries were strong and intimate. for nearly three quarters of a century the united states had maintained a quasi-protectorate over the island in behalf of spain for the time being, but--though unconsciously--in behalf of cuba itself for the greater time to come. the welfare of the united states had become involved in the disposition of the island in only a less degree than that of the cuban people. there can be no doubt that the united states was of very great service and assistance to the cuban patriots in the war of independence. nobody has testified to that fact more earnestly or more comprehensively than the cubans themselves. they realized it. they appreciated it. they were and are profoundly grateful for it. their testimony to it is ample for all time. america is relieved of the need of vaunting herself upon it. it would, however, be of a great error and a great injustice to assume that the intervention of the united states in april, , was indispensable to the achievement of cuban independence, or indeed that it was the united states that set cuba free from spain. that would be as great a perversion of the truth of history as it would be to pretend that the united states went to war with spain over the sinking of the _maine_. for the united states to have done the latter would have been one of the monumental crimes of history; and of course it was not done. war was inevitable before the _maine_ went to havana harbor, and would have come just the same if the _maine_ had not gone thither; perhaps sooner than it did, perhaps not so soon. so cuban independence would have been won by the cubans themselves if the united states had not intervened. possibly it would have come sooner than it did; probably it would not have come so soon. but it would have come. nobody who has studied the condition of affairs as they then were in cuba can reasonably doubt it. nor should recognition of that fact lessen in any degree the propriety--indeed, the necessity--of the american intervention or the grateful appreciation thereof which cubans feel. to draw once more upon american history for an example which should convincingly appeal to americans, the case may be likened to the intervention of france in the american revolution. there is no american who does not remember that performance with sincere gratitude and with deep appreciation of the undoubtedly great aid which france rendered to the thirteen colonies. but i should doubt if there is a well informed american willing to concede that the french aid was indispensable, or that without it washington and greene would have been vanquished and the revolution would have failed. american independence would have been achieved without french aid, though perhaps not so promptly and at greater cost. an immense service, also, which the united states rendered cuba in the war of independence antedated the actual intervention, and consisted in the aid in men, money and supplies which went from the united states to cuba. it is true that this aid was given largely by cubans resident in the united states, though many americans also gave much in money, and some were permitted by the cubans to give themselves for service in the army. it is also true that much of it was done in surreptitious violation of the neutrality laws; a species of law-breaking at which many united states officials were inclined to wink, and which by common consent was to be regarded as culpable only when it was found out, and then the finding out was more to be regretted than the act itself was to be condemned! such is the "unwritten law" of international relations in cases in which the technical requirements of the law run counter to generous and righteous human sympathies. while, therefore, we must believe that even without american intervention in the actual war the cubans would have won their independence, we may doubt whether such would have been the case if the united states had not all along been dose at hand, a resourceful and hospitable country, in which cuban political exiles could find secure asylum, in which a cuban junta could plan revolution, in which funds to aid the patriot cause could be raised, and which, in brief, could partly in secret and partly in the open be used as a base of supplies and operations. it is to such aid that cuba owes more than she does to the achievements of the american army and navy in , admirable and useful as they were. comparably great, as we shall most notably see in the ensuing chapters, were the services of the united states to cuba after the war of independence. these were manifold. the first was diplomatic, in serving as an intermediary between cuba and spain, in making the treaty of peace, and in securing the spanish withdrawal from the island. there is no doubt that all those things were done more smoothly, more satisfactorily and more expeditiously than they could have been had they been left to direct settlement between cuba and spain. the services of the united states during the last part of were more indispensable than those of the spring and summer of that year. indeed, it might perhaps be claimed that the chief advantage in having the united states intervene was that it enabled her to play that important part in the making of peace and the post-bellum readjustment. the second great service rendered by the united states was the rehabilitation of the island. this was a manifold undertaking. it comprised rehabilitation after many years of spanish misrule and neglect, and rehabilitation after the ravages of three years of peculiarly destructive war. the civic maladies to be cured were thus both chronic and acute. moreover, the work was political, and sanitary, and educational, and economic. order was to be restored, law was to be administered, government was to be organized, pestilence was to be abated, schools were to be created, the whole work of civilization was to be performed. splendid as was the work of sampson's fleet at santiago, still more beneficent was that of general wood within the precincts of that city and throughout the province of oriente. nobly memorable was the work of shafter's army, but we shall read history to little avail if we do not give higher credit to the work of the military governor and his lieutenants. a third service was in acting as guide, philosopher and friend in the great task of organizing and installing the native cuban government which had been promised by the united states in the act of declaring war against spain. that self-abnegatory pledge was a noble thing, and noble was the faithful fulfilment of it. i have heard of an eminent and enlightened cuban who regarded that pledge with incredulity, saying, "it can never be fulfilled!" and who persisted in that incredulity until that memorable noonday when the american flag came down from the palace and the morro and the flag of cuba libre rose in its place; and then, with tear-suffused eyes, exclaimed, "it can't be; but it is!" never before in the history of the world had such a thing been done, but it was done and it was well done. there followed a fourth service, which we may hope has now been definitely completed, but which in the very nature of the case is a potentially recurrent service, which may--_absit omen!_--be needed again and again; and which the united states may be trusted to perform, if necessary, as faithfully and generously and efficiently as it has already performed it. for we shall see that after the cuban government had been established and had vindicated its existence by great good service to the island, sordid and treacherous men unlawfully conspired against it and sought to overthrow it by violence and crime. their success would have meant ruin for the island. their partial success--for such they had--meant immeasurable loss. but fortunately the united states intervened as readily against cuban crime as it had against spanish oppression, and the republic was saved, though "as through fire." it is this service, following the others which i have named, which differentiates the cuban republic from most of the other states which have been formed from the spanish empire in america. of the two states which at one time planned to wrest cuba from spain by force and make her a part of their community of nations, colombia was for half a century in a chronic condition of revolution, and mexico through the same evil processes has given the word mexicanize to the political vocabulary. it was the intention of the united states that cuba should not fall into that category; but it is by no means certain that she would not have done so had it not been for the guardianship of that country. * * * * * our history will disclose more than all these things. these are the records of achievement. but there are other records, even those of conditions as they exist, and as they have been made to exist by virtue of these achievements. marvellous indeed shall we find them. the story of cuba's development from a neglected and oppressed colony to an independent nation is stirring and impressive, adorned with the names and deeds of brave men. the story of her development in civilization, from a backward rank to the foremost, is no less impressive, and it is adorned with the names and the labors of wise men, statesmen and scholars, who gave of their best for the welfare of the insular republic for which so many of their kin gave willingly their very lives. the account which we shall have of the opulent charms and resources of cuba may be regarded as a volume of contemporary history. it will reveal to us some of the consequences of that narrative of the past which forms the major portion of our story. but it will be more and will do more than that. it must serve as an intimation, a suggestion, almost perhaps a prophecy, of what the future of the pearl of the antilles will be. grateful as is the work of recalling and rehearsing the story of the past, from the days of columbus and velasquez to the present, the historian finds it more pleasant and more welcome to dwell upon the present scene. if these volumes, laboriously produced and with a consciousness too often of falling short of the high merits of the theme, shall serve their intended purpose of introducing cuba, past and present, more fully and most favorably to the knowledge of the world, i shall be more than abundantly repaid. but the supreme and most enduring satisfaction will come from some assurance that i have brought to the appreciative attention of the world not merely the cuba of four centuries past, with all its legends of adventure and romance, and too often of cruelty and crime, and with its fluctuating though still persistent progress toward the "foremost files of time," but also and still more the cuba of this present moment and, we may hope, of unmeasured future time. it is a cuba that is beautiful for situation, opulent in resources, entrancing in charm, illimitable in potentialities; a land of "fair women and brave men," upon which recollection fondly dwells; a land which justifies the latest writer concerning it to repeat once more the estimate of the first who ever wrote of it--"the most beautiful that the eyes of man have ever seen." willis fletcher johnson. new york, u. s. a., june, . contents page chapter i "in cuba the annals of america begin"--the first landing place of columbus--theories concerning various islands--his expectation of reaching the coast of asia--cuba supposed to be cathay--the physical history of cuba--character of the aboriginal inhabitants--a race of amiable savages without enduring monuments. chapter ii discovery of cuba on sunday, october , --the first landing place on the island--named for the heir of the spanish throne--appreciation of the beauty and charm of the island--first contact with its inhabitants--exploration of the northern coast--cuba supposed to be the country of the great khan--further explorations of the coast--departure for hispaniola--second visit to cuba--exploration of the southern coast--discovery of jamaica--navigating the caribbean sea--some inland excursions--experiences with the natives--reaching the western end of the island--exhortation of a native sage--columbus's final departure from cuba. chapter iii first impressions of cuba--columbus's observations of the people and resources of the island--native villages and boats--negotiations with the natives--first use of tobacco by europeans--columbus's meagre knowledge of the island--his death and burial in hispaniola--removal of his remains to havana--disputes concerning his tomb--final return of his remains to spain. chapter iv archeology of cuba--the oldest rock formation--theory of cuban continuity with florida--the eocene age--submersion in the oligocene period--miocene uplift--changes during the pleistocene period--topography of the island--the mountain ranges--the mountains of oriente--the organ mountains and magotes--the valley of the vinales--plains and valleys--composition of the soil--the climate of cuba--fortunate situation of the island--the rainfall of a land of sunshine. chapter v neglect of cuba by spanish explorers and conquerors--rule of ovando--ocampo discovers cuba to be an island--first attempts at colonization--enciso's story of ojeda's adventure--a test between christianity and paganism--the lust of gold--diego and bartholomew columbus--diego velasquez appointed governor--his first settlement at baracoa--the war with hatuey--narvaez and his horsemen--las casas the "apostle to the indies"--more trouble with the natives--exploration of the island throughout its length. chapter vi marriage and bereavement of velasquez--other settlements founded in cuba--santiago made the first capital--system of government--apportionment of the natives to the settlers--appropriation of the land--evils of the repartimiento system--the statesmanship of velasquez--enslavement of the natives--famous men in cuba's early history--gold mines and fertile plantations--beginning of the mission of las casas--death of king ferdinand and accession of charles i--cardinal ximenes--the order of st. jerome--the fate of the natives. chapter vii gold mining in cuba--political organization of the island--relations with the spanish crown--development of the slave trade--expeditions to yucatan--exploration of the mexican coast--failure of grijalva's expedition--the expedition of christopher de olid--unmerited fate of grijalva, the discoverer and first explorer of mexico. chapter viii hernando cortez commissioned by velasquez to explore mexico--some romantic adventures--why cortez went to cuba--his relations with velasquez--a crisis in spain's american affairs--appointment of velasquez as adelantado--departure of cortez--his refusal to return when summoned by velasquez--arrival in mexico--appointment of cortez as royal governor of new spain--preparations by velasquez to subdue cortez--disastrous fate of narvaez's expedition--conspiracy to assassinate cortez--velasquez removed from the governorship of cuba--zuazo, the second governor--vindication of velasquez and repudiation of zuazo--character and work of first cuban governor. chapter ix administration of manuel de rojas--the rise of cuba's proper interests--development of resources--appointment of altamarino--post mortem investigation of velasquez--violent opposition to altamarino--removal of a discredited governor--accession of guzman--controversies over local government--injudicious course of guzman--protest against the tyranny of the councils--"cuba for the cubans." chapter x controversies over the treasurership--appointment of hurtado, the honest but cantankerous--fortunes of the guzman family--a marriage for money and its consequences--services of vadillo--investigations and reforms--heavy sentences against guzman--an appeal to the council for the indies--manuel de rojas again governor. chapter xi development of the church establishment in cuba--the first bishop--early conflict between church and state--transfer of the cathedral from baracoa to santiago--a bishop in politics--the governor excommunicated--insurrections and raids of the natives--effective work of rojas against the cimarrones--disposal of the "tame" indians--further conflicts of church and state--intervention of the crown--practical extermination of the natives--reforms that were not made--well meant efforts of rojas--failure of attempts to civilize the natives--a good governor ill treated--his resignation and departure. chapter xii guzman's second administration--a masterful politician--decline of cuban welfare--an interregnum in the governorship--the coming of de soto--his imposing arrival at santiago--progress across the island--vasco porcallo de figueroa made de soto's lieutenant--cuba a stepping stone to florida--de soto's removal from santiago to havana--organization of the florida expedition--report of the first scouts--departure of de soto--lady de soto's faithful watch--tragic fate of the explorer--evil effects upon cuba--serious trouble with the indians--intrigues of guzman and bishop sarmiento. chapter xiii governorship of juan de avila--royal order against slavery in the mines--an appeal to the council for the indies--popular revolt against the council--de avila's marriage to a rich widow--removal to havana--appointment of antonio chaves--scandalous charges against de avila--the matter carried to spain for settlement--another bad administration--chaves reprimanded by the king--his persistence in slavery--hurtado's indictment of chaves--gonzalo de angulo made governor--trial and punishment of chaves--emancipation proclamation. chapter xiv a bad time in cuban history--santiago in --raid of a french privateer--the founding and rise of havana--the founding of puerto principe--baracoa, trinidad and other settlements--italians and other aliens in cuba--efforts to populate the island--importation of negro slaves--slaves treated humanely--disappearance of the native indians--the early industries of cuba--discovery of the copper mines of el cobre--beginning of the sugar industry--fiscal policy of the spanish government. chapter xv a turning point in cuban history--international interest in the island--raids of french privateers--a famous fight in santiago harbor--the capture and looting of havana--first building of la fuerza--rise of havana in importance--the governor's residence in havana--deposition of angulo--guarding havana against french attack--inadequacy of the defenses--seizure of the city by jacques sores--flight of the governor and resolute defense of lobera--attempt to destroy the french conquerors--destruction of the city. chapter xvi administration of mazariegos--his disastrous voyage--rebuilding of havana--manners and morals of a soldier of fortune--defense of havana by a military governor--improvement of the fortifications--rebuilding la fuerza--the founding of morro castle--complications in florida--osorio appointed governor--his care for the defenses of the island--the campaigns of pedro menendez--conflict between osorio and menendez--attempts at mutiny--disagreement over fortifications--illegitimate trade at santiago--menendez appointed governor--a succession of lieutenants--charting the bahama channel--codifying municipal ordinances. chapter xvii approach of the "sea beggars"--more work on la fuerza--seeking financial aid from mexico--a requisition for slave labor--investigating public accounts--the downfall of menendez--investigation of his accounts--succeeded by montalvo--increase of smuggling--general progress of the island--havana the commercial metropolis. chapter xviii governorship of montalvo--rehabilitation of santiago--disorder at havana--conflict with the rojas family--charges made against the governor--the increase of smuggling--ravages of the french--seeking naval defenses for cuba--haggling over the building of la fuerza--a badly built fort--montalvo's development of insular resources--promotion of sugar growing and general agriculture--the governor's quarrel with the bishop. chapter xix administration of francisco carreño--the first cuban governor to die in office--a record of hard work and progress--the problem of free negroes--features of the slave system--some literally constructive statesmanship--the first custom house--trying to deal with the land question--the reforms proposed by caceres--development of stock raising--bad administration of torres. chapter xx administration of gabriel de luzan--controversies among officials--the quarrel between luzan and arana--questions of official residence--removal of the royal accountant--charges against the governor--further efforts to complete la fuerza--the work of quiñones--unseemly personal and political feuds--investigation of the governor's administration--renewal of the quarrel with quiñones--governor and captain-general brought into accord through peril of an attack by the british--desperate preparations for defense. chapter xxi war between spain and england--drake's conquest of hispaniola--an attack upon cuba anticipated--raising forces for defense--feuds forgotten in the common emergency--plans for the defense of havana--increase of the garrison--admirable unity of the people--drake's approach to cuba--his landing at the western end of the island--appearance of his fleet off havana--departure of drake's fleet without an assault--his doings at st. augustine and in the north--reasons for not attacking havana--disaster to santiago--that city destroyed by the french--rebuilt by an energetic patriot--interest in copper mining. chapter xxii drake's menace a blessing to cuba--spanish interest in cuba for its own sake--the governorship of tejada--the public works of antonelli--building roads, dams and aqueducts--havana made a real city--controversy with bishop salcedo--appreciation of tejada's services--accession of barrionuevo--progress of civilization in cuba--the first theatrical performance. chapter xxiii changes in european nations--rise of the protectionist policy--retaliation by smugglers--hostilities against spain--prevalence of piracy--some strong governors of cuba--good works of maldonado and valdes--invasions by pirates--division of the island--interest in religious affairs--successive governors working at cross purposes--building a fleet--protection of the port of havana--an attack by the dutch--the exploits of oquendo--the slave market in havana--fall of cabrera. chapter xxiv the decline of spain--enterprise and aggressions of the dutch--the dutch west india' company--governors who saved cuba for spain--warring with dutch privateers--the great fight with pie de palo--fiscal reforms in cuba--gamboa's improvement of fortifications--sarmiento's organization of cuban troops--ravages of a great pestilence--noble deeds of the religious orders--public works planned--the walls of havana--aggressions of the british--conquest of jamaica--records of piracy--exploits of lolonois--henry morgan--british capture and plundering of santiago--repairing the fortifications--a compact against piracy. chapter xxv british designs against spanish possessions--covetous eyes turned upon cuba by british empire-builders--isolation of cuba from spain--france playing false--cuban reprisals--further attacks by freebooters--controversy over british prisoners--disastrous earthquakes--ecclesiastical troubles--spain at the brink of bankruptcy--cordova's administration--revised code of laws for the indies--civil and ecclesiastical controversies--some ruthless work--founding of the city of matanzas--official disputes and scandals. chapter xxvi the war of the austrian succession--the treaty of utrecht--reign of philip v--renewed conflicts in the west indies--settlement of pensacola--aggressions of the french--cuban interests affected by european affairs--increased protection of the island--two local governors--attacks upon charleston--raids of british warships--speculation in tobacco--more fortifications in a time of peace--churches and convents--sanitary measures--official quarrels--reorganization of the tobacco industry--seeking administrative stability--a tobacco insurrection--a warning to the british--fortifications of havana. chapter xxvii great impetus given to discovery and exploration throughout the world--interesting observations upon cuba and the indies--some quaint records--a description of the natives of cuba--something about the natural resources of the island from ancient authorities--spanish and alien descriptions of cuba--early writings about cuba in various languages--fra vincente fonseca--a dutch description of cuba--attention given to the wealth of cuban forests--reasons given for the rise and subsequent decline of spanish power--some superstitions and legends. chapter xxviii cuba neglected during an era of great achievements--the golden age of spain--culture at home and conquest abroad--a noteworthy group of spanish historians--the university of santo domingo--the first american books--cuba's lack of participation in these activities, and the reasons for it--a turning point in cuban history at the end of the sixteenth century--cubans beginning to become cubans and not spaniards--a significant change in the temper and character of the people of the island. illustrations full page plates: columbus (janez portrait) _frontispiece_ facing page the havana cathedral la fuerza morro castle, havana san francisco church morro castle, santiago text embellishments: page monument on supposed first tending place of columbus, watling's island queen isabella diego velasquez baracoa, first capital of cuba panfilo de narvaez bartholomew de las casas ponce de leon hernando cortez hernando de soto san lazaro watch tower, havana pedro menendez de aviles the history of cuba chapter i cuba; america: america; cuba. the two names are inseparable. the record of each is in a peculiar sense identified with that of the other. far more than any other land the queen of the antilles is associated with that columbian enterprise from which the modern and practical history of the western hemisphere is dated. in cuba the annals of america begin. this island was not, it is true, the first land discovered by columbus after leaving spain. it was at least the fifth visited and named by him, and it was perhaps the tenth or twelfth which he saw and at which he touched in passing. but in at least three major respects it had the unquestionable primacy among all the discoveries of his first, second and third voyages, while in his own estimation it was not surpassed in importance by the main land of the continent which he finally reached in his fourth and last expedition. it was the first land visited or seen by him of the identity of which there has never been the slightest question. it was the first considerable land discovered by him, the first which was worth while sailing across the ocean to discover, and it was by far the most important of all found by him in his first three adventures. it was, also, the first and indeed the only land which caused him to believe that the theory of his undertaking had been vindicated and that the supreme object of his quest had been attained. let us, in order to appreciate the transcendent significance of his discovery of cuba, briefly consider these three circumstances. we must remember with respect to the first that the identity of columbus's first landing place has been much disputed, and indeed has never been determined to universal satisfaction: we know that it was an island of small or moderate size. columbus himself called it in one place "small" and in another "fairly large." it was level, low-lying, well watered, with a large central lagoon, which may or may not have been a permanent feature, seeing that his visit was in the rainy season, when any depression in the land was likely to be flooded. it was certainly one of the bahama archipelago. but that extensive group comprises islands, cays, and , rocks. which of all these was it upon which the admiral landed, which was called by the natives guanahani, and which, with his characteristic religious fervor, columbus immediately renamed san salvador, the island of the holy saviour? the distinction has been claimed, by authorities worthy of respectful consideration, for no fewer than five. down to the middle of the nineteenth century the weight of opinion and tradition favored cat island, and upon most maps and charts it was designated as "guanahani, or san salvador." it is by far the largest and the northernmost of the five islands in question. next, to the southeast, lies watling's island, to which the distinction of having been the scene of columbus's landfall has now for half a century been most generally given, and upon maps it is generally named san salvador. it is the only one of the five which stands out in the atlantic, beyond the generally uniform line of the bahamas, as a sort of advance post to greet the voyager from the east. samana, south by east from watling's, also called attwood's cay, was selected as the true guanahani by some officers of the united states coast survey. mariguana, further in the same direction, was proclaimed "la verdadera guanahani" by f. a. de varnhagen in a scholarly treatise published in at santiago de chili. finally, grand turk island, at the southeastern extremity of the bahama chain, and just north of the coast of hayti, was designated by navarrete, in , and by various other authorities, chiefly american, at later dates. [illustration: monument on supposed first landing place of columbus, watling's island] the chief interest of these speculations for present consideration in this writing is their bearing upon the subsequent course of columbus, the identity of the next islands which he visited, and finally the point at which he first touched the coast of cuba. if the original landfall was on cat or on watling's island, then the second land visited, which columbus called santa maria de la concepcion, was probably either the tiny island now known as concepcion or the larger rum cay; the third, called by him ferdinandina or fernandina, was either great exuma or long island; the fourth, isabella, may have been either long island or crooked island, according to whether fernandina was great exuma or long island; and the coast of cuba was reached at some point between punta lucrecia and port nuevitas. on the other hand, if grand turk island was first reached, the second land would naturally have been, as navarrete held, at gran caico; the third at little inagua; the fourth at great inagua; and cuba would have been reached somewhere between cape maysi and sama point. to me it seems decidedly the more probable that the former course was pursued, and i have accordingly adopted the theory that columbus first landed in cuba in the region between nuevitas and punta lucrecia. the second circumstance which i have mentioned scarcely requires discussion. the first, second and third voyages of columbus were confined to discoveries and explorations of the west india islands, and of all of these, even including hayti and jamaica, there can be no question of cuba's primacy, whether in size, in wealth of resources, in political and strategical importance, or in historical interest. it was so recognized by columbus himself, who indeed in one respect actually esteemed it more highly than it deserved. for after long and careful exploration he became convinced that it was not an island, but was the mainland of the asian continent--mangi, or cathay: that country of the great khan of which marco polo had written and which toscanelli had indicated upon his map, and the visiting of which was the supreme object of the admiral's enterprise. to understand this aright we must remember that columbus was not seeking a new continent. he had no thought that one existed. he held, with isidore of seville, that all the lands of the world were comprehended in europe, africa and asia, and that there was only one great ocean, the atlantic, which stretched unbroken save by islands from the western shores of europe and africa to the eastern coast of asia and the east indies. moreover, he considerably overestimated the extent of asia and underestimated the circumference of the earth. years later, long after the circumnavigation of the globe had been effected, antonio galvano, learned historian and geographer though he was, computed the equatorial circumference of the earth at only , miles, or about , miles too little; while the best maps of the sixteenth century indicated the asian continent as extending far into the western hemisphere, and the pacific ocean as a narrow strip not nearly comparable with the atlantic in extent. schoener's globe, of , which is still to be seen at nuremberg, represents the "terra de cuba" as integral with the whole north american continent, with its western coast only five degrees of longitude or miles from the shore of zipangu or japan, and only degrees or , miles from the mainland of asia. columbus therefore expected to find the coast of asia in about the longitude in which he actually found america. when he reached the bahamas he confidently assumed them to be the group of islands which toscanelli had indicated as lying off the coast of cathay; and when he learned from the natives of a much larger island lying to the south, which they called colba, cuba, or cubanacan, he believed it to be none other than cipango, or zipangu, which toscanelli had shown as by far the largest of the east indian islands. it has been commonly assumed, apparently with little dispute or attempt at investigation, that cipango was japan. but the distance-- , miles--at which it was said to lie from the coast of china, the southerly latitude assigned to it, and the multitude of small islands which were clustered about and near it, are circumstances which suggest that instead of japan the island meant may have been luzon, the northernmost and largest of the philippines. however that may be, columbus promptly decided to steer straight for cipango, with the result that he reached the northern shore of the eastern part of cuba. the third circumstance which i have mentioned was then developed. it was a great triumph, and a vindication of his enterprise, that he had reached cipango. but even that was not enough. he was in quest of the mainland of mangi or cathay, the land of the great khan. he found in cuba no traces of the opulence and splendor of which marco polo had written. yet the natives frequently referred to "cuba-nacan" as a great place somewhere in the interior. the phrase merely meant the central part of the island, but the final syllable was identified by columbus with "khan," and, with the wish as father of the thought, he presently conceived the notion that it was not the island of cipango upon which he had landed, but the shore of cathay itself. further explorations, including coasting along the northern shore to within a few miles of the western extremity, confirmed him in this belief, which became absolute conviction. to the end of his life, therefore, he believed that cuba was the eastern extremity of the asian continent, which indeed toscanelli had delineated upon his map as terminating in a long, narrow cape; and it was upon the strength of this belief and report of columbus that schoener in and muenster in identified cuba with the whole north american continent, while various other cartographers of that time made it integral with cathay itself. the maps of la cosa and ruysch, in , hinted at this. the nancy globe, and a notable map in the sloane mss. in the british museum, dated , do, it is true, indicate cuba to be an island, but they also make india superior and tibet contiguous with mexico at the northwest, with the latter country fronting directly upon the indian ocean. we know, of course, that during his second voyage, in , while off the southern coast of cuba, columbus required his companions to sign with him a formal declaration that they were off the coast of asia. such, then, was the admiral's estimate of cuba, in which there is no reason to doubt he persisted to the end of his life. he had achieved the object of his great adventure: he had reached the country of the great khan. despite these delusions and vagaries, however, the facts remain that he did discover and partly explore cuba, and that it was the first land in the western hemisphere of which that can confidently be said. cuba is therefore the starting point of the history of the columbian discovery and exploration and the subsequent colonization and civilization of america. with cuba the history of the new world begins. similarly, and with equal truth, we may say that the history of cuba begins with the columbian discovery of america. that is not true of all parts of the american continents. some of them had already had important histories. the northeastern coast of north america had been visited and temporarily colonized by the norsemen, and the northwestern coast by the chinese; and both of those peoples had left enduring traces of their enterprise. the iroquois and algonquins had for centuries enjoyed a degree of social, political and industrial development, the records of which still survive. the toltecs, the mayas and the incas had risen to a height of culture not unworthy to be compared with that of egypt, persia, greece and rome, the remains of which to this day command the wonder and admiration of the world. but not so cuba. carlyle might well have had this island in mind when he said, "happy the people whose annals are blank in history books." the physical history of cuba indicates that in some remote period the two mountainous ends of the island were two separate and distinctly different islands, separated by a considerable stretch of sea, and that they were afterward united by a rising of the bottom of the sea, to form the central plain of cuba. it is observed that the two ends are unlike each other on geological structure and composition, in soil, and in indigenous flora. indeed, they have ever differed from each other radically in their cultivated crops. at what date the union of them occurred, and by what means it was effected, we can only guess. but it is a reasonable assumption that the raising of the sea-floor to form the central plain of the island was caused by one of the seismic disturbances to which this general region of the earth's surface has from time immemorial been subject. there are, moreover, reasons for suspecting that this occurred at a time subsequent to the creation of man, and indeed after both of the original islands had become inhabited. that is because the two ends of the island appear, in columbus's day, to have been occupied by different races. of the inhabitants of the western end we know comparatively little, save that they were more warlike and adventurous than those at the east, and several authorities have likened them either to the caribs or to the mayas of yucatan. that they were mayas seems, however, doubtful, since they left no traces of the high degree of civilization which formerly prevailed among that distinguished race in yucatan. the people of the eastern end of cuba, when the island was discovered by columbus, were doubtless of antillan stock, or "tainan" as some have called them, with possibly a slight admixture of carib, though not sufficient materially to affect them in any respect. they were physically a handsome, stalwart people, of a light reddish brown color, somewhat lighter than the north american indians. they wore no clothing, with the exception of the married women, who wore breech clouts, and confined their adornments to slight necklaces and bracelets. they lived in neatly constructed cabins of cane or bamboo and thatch, rectangular or circular in form and generally of two or three rooms each; equipped with furniture of cane or of handsomely carved wood. for beds, however, they used hammocks, of woven cotton or plaited grass; the name, hammock, being of antillan or carib origin. these houses were, according to early spanish testimony, kept scrupulously clean and neat. they were grouped in villages, around a central square which served as a market place and playground. they were agriculturists, tilling the ground with considerable skill and producing yuca, corn, beans, peanuts, squashes, peppers and various other crops, besides fruits and tobacco. they were singularly expert fishermen, and for the purpose of that pursuit they constructed fine canoes, of the hollowed boles of large trees, but unlike the caribs they do not seem to have resorted to navigation for any other purpose. they also hunted game on the land, solely for food, but their hunting was much restricted, since there were no large animals of any kind on the island. their manufactures were confined to primitive cotton weaving, wood carving, basketry, pottery--of a pretty good quality of decorated ware--and various stoneware implements. in disposition and manners they were friendly, hospitable, courteous, and confiding. despite their nudity they had the unconscious modesty of nature, and their morals were superior to those of most primitive peoples. the tradition that venereal diseases prevailed among them and were thus first made known to european peoples through their having been acquired from the natives by columbus's men, seems to be quite void of foundation; indubitable proof exists of the prevalence of those diseases in both europe and asia at an earlier date than columbus's time. they practised but recognized domestic, social and civic equality of the sexes. they were almost universal tobacco smokers, and it was from them that the use of that plant was first learned. they were pleasure loving, much given to dancing, to games of ball, and to swimming. their form of government was patriarchal, though there seem to have been chiefs of some sort over whole villages or even districts. the laws were, however, mild and humane. in religion they presented a striking and most grateful contrast to the toltecs, aztecs and other peoples of the continent, having none of the human sacrifices and atrocious tortures that disfigured their worship. they believed in a supreme being and a future and immortal life. they had a form of worship in which the use of idols as symbols, and the smoking of tobacco, largely figured. they had a regularly constituted priest-hood, the members of which they credited with powers of divination and of healing. there were none of the revolting practises and superstitions, however, which have been common to many primitive peoples. they were not warlike, and had no military organization, but they certainly were not cowards, as some of the early spanish conquistadors had cause to know. they had, it is obvious, nothing which could survive them as a memorial of their existence. their architecture, if so it may be called, was most perishable. they had no art, save in pottery, and that was not highly developed. they had no literature. the result was that when they perished through unfavorable contact with a more powerful and aggressive race they left scarcely a trace of themselves behind, save in the records and testimony of their conquerors and destroyers. some specimens of their pottery have been preserved: the words "hammock" and "canoe" come to us from them; and the use of tobacco is their universal memorial. such were the aborigines, if not the absolute autochthones, of cuba. their only history lives in the brief and scanty records of them made by their destroyers. they left no enduring impress upon the island, save its name. how many they were is unknown, and estimates which are mere guesses differ widely. in a single generation they disappeared, partly through slaughter and partly through such diseases as small pox and measles, which were introduced to the island--of course, not intentionally--by the spaniards, and which the natives were unable to resist. the only significant history of cuba begins, therefore, with the landfall of christopher columbus upon its shores. chapter ii sunday, october , , was the natal day of cuba; the day of its advent into the ken of the civilized world. at the island which he called isabella--either long island or crooked island--columbus had heard of a very great land which the natives called cuba, and which, the wish being father to the thought, he instantly identified with cipango. toward it, therefore, his course had thereafter been directed. progress was slow, because of contrary winds and calms, and there were numerous small islands along the way to engage at least passing attention. particularly was there a group of seven or eight, lying in a row extending north and south, which he called the islas de arena, and which we may confidently identify with the mucaras. early on the morning of saturday, october , he had left the last of the sandy isles behind, and from a point considerably to the eastward of them, probably near what is now known as rocky heads, he had set his course a little west of south for the shore of cuba. thus he had passed across the southeastern end of the great bahama bank, since most appropriately called the columbus bank, until just at nightfall he had seen looming before him on the southern horizon the mountainous form of a vast land. it was too late, however, to continue the voyage that night, so he lay to, and at earliest daybreak of sunday morning, leaving behind him the islet fittingly called caya santo domingo, completed his course to the land which he fondly but vainly hailed as the much-sought cipango. the coast at the point at which he reached it seemed specially designed by nature for his favorable and auspicious reception. there lay before him what seemed the estuary of a large and beautiful river, free from rocks or other impediments, and with a very gentle current. it had an ample depth of water for his vessels, and was sufficiently broad, even at a considerable distance inland, for them to beat about in. it was encircled by lofty and picturesque hills, the aspect of which reminded him of the "pena de los enamorados" near granada, in spain; and upon the summit of one of them was what he described as another little hill, shaped like a graceful mosque. enchanted with the vision, and gratified beyond expression at what he confidently assumed to be the reaching of his goal and the vindication of his enterprise, he gave to the spot a repetition of the name which he had devoutly bestowed upon his first landfall, calling the port san salvador. the identity of this spot has been much questioned and disputed; perhaps even more than that of columbus's first landing in the bahamas; and it is not to be regarded as entirely certain. washington irving pretty confidently placed it at caravelas grandes, far to the west of nuevitas del principe, while others insist that it was at nuevitas itself. navarrete, on the other hand, with his theory that the first landfall was at grand turk island, held that cuba was reached at nipe bay, east of holguin; while las casas and herrera insisted that the port of san salvador was at baracoa, near cape maysi, at the extreme eastern end of the island. midway between the extremes, that most scholarly and judicious of geographers, sir clements markham, selected the natural harbor of naranjo, a little to the west of punta lucrecia and punta mulas. other historians and geographers, after painstaking research, declare that they do not believe the place can be determined. with this, in the ultimate analysis, i would agree. it is probably impossible to establish indisputably the identity of the place. yet it does seem to me that the arguments in favor of naranjo, as selected by markham, are so strong as to be all but entirely convincing, and that it will be judicious, therefore, to assume that it was there that the admiral first reached the shore of cuba. a glance at the map shows this to be the region which was nearest and which he was likeliest to reach first, coming from either long island or crooked island, eastward of the mucaras, on a south-southwest course, which, we are told, is what he steered. the port of naranjo answers to his description in depth and breadth more nearly than any other on that part of the coast. it is the estuary of a considerable river, as was columbus's san salvador, though how large the river really was he does not appear to have undertaken to ascertain, though he did ascend the stream some little distance on his first day's visit. finally, it is to be observed that naranjo is girt about by hills, precisely as was his san salvador, and on the crest of one of them there is a huge rock, jutting up like "another little hill" and roughly resembling in shape a mosque, because of which the hill is called "loma del temple." this, then, and not nuevitas, nipe, nor baracoa, i believe to have been the scene of columbus's discovery of cuba. [illustration: queen isabella] we have seen that columbus at first unhesitatingly believed it to be cipango which he had reached. despite that fact, and also despite the fact that the natives called it cuba, he insisted upon renaming it. in accordance with his previous practice in nomenclature, it must have a very noble and distinguished name. his first landfall he had named for the holy saviour himself; the second for the holy virgin; the third for the king, and the fourth for the queen of leon and castile. the next name in order, in dignity and distinction, was that of the heir to the dual throne, wherefore he named the land juana. most writers, including irving, have made the curious but facile mistake of saying that this name was given "in honor of prince juan, the son of ferdinand and isabella." it was, in fact, in honor of princess juana, the daughter of those sovereigns. she was that unhappy princess who because of her insanity was called "la loca," and who by her marriage with philip of burgundy and of hapsburg brought a new dynasty to the spanish throne and greatly involved the monarchy in the politics and wars of central europe. juana was mentally incompetent to succeed to the throne of castile which she inherited upon the death of her mother, wherefore she was compelled to relinquish it to the regency of her father; and when he united castile with aragon, and conquered and annexed navarre and granada, and thus became the first king of spain, cuba was renamed in his honor and known no longer as juana but as ferdinandina, or fernandina. still later it was called san diego, or santiago; and again ave maria alfa y omega. but these names were transitory. the natives never accepted one of them, but clung to the old name of cuba, and there was a fine touch of poetic justice in the fact that that name survived the extinction of the race that had cherished it. under the ruthless rule of the conquistadores the aboriginal population of the island almost entirely vanished, and with them practically all traces of their existence save four. these were the name and use of tobacco, the name and use of hammocks, the name and use of canoes, and the name of the island itself. it would not have been surprising, and it would have been quite pardonable, had columbus seen everything in the new world through glasses of _couleur de rose_. naturally of a romantic and imaginative temperament, he experienced in the realization of his long-cherished ambition such a degree of spiritual and mental exaltation as seldom has come to mortal man. yet quite apart from this, the native beauty of cuba, as seen to our eyes to-day, abundantly justifies the rhapsodies in which he indulged in describing it. on that first memorable sunday he wrote in his diary, "this is the most beautiful land ever beheld by human eyes." from the quarter-deck of the _santa maria_ he gazed with rapture upon the profuse verdure of the shore and of the hills which rose in the back-ground, observing with admiration and surprise that the trees grew down to the very water's edge, as did also the herbage, as he had never seen it elsewhere. the palms and other trees were largely of different kinds from those which he had seen in spain, in guinea, and elsewhere, and they bore flowers and fruit in great profusion, while among them were innumerable birds, beautiful to the eye and with songs entrancing to the ear. two canoes, containing each several natives, put out from a recess in the harbor shore to meet the spanish ships, but when a boat was lowered from one of the latter, to proceed ahead and take soundings, they incontinently fled. columbus himself then entered a small boat and went ashore, where he found two houses, which he assumed to belong to the owners of the two canoes. no persons were to be found upon the premises, and the only living things were "a kind of dog that never barks," which we may assume to have been some small animal of the ant bear tribe, now probably extinct or at any rate no longer domesticated. the houses were notably neat and clean, and were evidently the abode of fishermen, since in them were nets and cordage of palm fibre, fish-hooks of horn, and harpoons of bone. all about the houses the herbage was as profuse, at the end of october, as it was in andalusia in may. most of the herbs as well as the trees were strange to columbus, but he found some wild amaranth, and much common purslane. he went some distance up the harbor, or river as he called it, at every step or stroke of the oars seeing something new to excite his admiration. the natives of guanahani whom he had brought on his ship informed him that cuba was a very large island, which could not be circumnavigated in twenty days; that it contained ten large rivers and that its whole expanse was well watered. they were also understood by columbus to say that gold mines and pearls were to be found in the island, and that large ships came thither from the mainland domains of the grand khan, ten days' sail away. the bulk of this "information" was of course quite mistaken by columbus, his vivid imagination and his eager desires easily misleading him into interpreting anything which the natives might say, largely in sign language, as meaning just what he wished to be true. the next day columbus left san salvador and sailed westward along the coast. that was the direction in which, according to the natives of guanahani, the mainland and the capital of the king or the grand khan were to be found. that, too, was the direction in which mangi and cathay were to be found according to the map of toscanelli, assuming cuba to be cipango: which columbus at this stage of his enterprise confidently believed. of the researches of the great voyager along the cuban coast we have a detailed account in his journal. unfortunately, there is no certain means of identifying the points at which he landed. they are described as being so many leagues from his starting point, san salvador; wherefore it is obvious that all depends upon the identity of the latter. yet it seems to me that his account of his coastwise explorations strongly confirms the theory that his san salvador was port naranjo and not nuevitas. for we are told that six leagues westward he found a cape or point of land extending toward the northwest; ten leagues further another point, extending toward the east; one league further a small river, which he called the rio de la luna; and beyond it another much larger river, which he called the rio de mares. this latter river had for its estuary a broad basin resembling a lake, and its entrance was marked by two round mountains on the one side and a lofty promontory on the other. now, making reasonable allowance for lack of accuracy in measurements and for discrepancies in descriptions, this account may readily be applied to the coast westward from port naranjo to nuevitas, while it is altogether inapplicable to the coast westward from nuevitas. for a score of leagues westward from naranjo there are capes and mountains and rivers, and there is more than one river with precisely such a lagoon-like estuary as that which columbus found at his rio de mares. indeed, port padre, with its extensive lagoon into which several rivers flow, or port manati, with the cramal and yarigua rivers, might either of them be identified, in approximate distance and in topography, with the rio de mares. on the other hand, if we were to assume nuevitas to have been the starting point, what should we find? either he must have been skirting the outer side of the sabinal and romano keys, and guajaba island, which do not at all coincide with the description given, or he must have been navigating the great littoral lagoon between those keys and the mainland of cuba; in which latter case it is to be observed that that part of the cuban coast does not correspond with his description, and that it is certainly extraordinary that he made no mention of his voyage having been in what is practically an inland sea. that he could have passed in through the nuevitas channel, or the carebelas channel, or the guajaba channel, without observing and remarking upon sabinal key, guajaba island, or romano key, is simply not supposable. such a feature of "cipango" could not have escaped notice on his first arrival there, though it might easily have been ignored or passed over as of no special significance in subsequent explorations. on tuesday of that memorable week, october , columbus left the rio de mares and sailed to the northwest for fifteen leagues, and there discovered a point which he named the cape of palms. beyond it was a river, the entrance of which was said to be four days' journey from what the natives called cubanacan, meaning the heart of the island, the centre of cuba. with his characteristic habit of interpreting native names and statements in accordance with his own desires, columbus at once assumed this to mean kublai khan, or the city of the khan, of which he was in quest; and accordingly he bent all his energies and gave all his attention to getting thither, disregarding the things which he passed by on the way. it was probably at this time, therefore, that he sailed through one of the channels among the keys, and entered the great coastal sound which stretches from nuevitas to caibarien, if not indeed to cardenas. he reached the river on wednesday, but found it too shallow for his ships, and therefore, after some fruitless cruisings, returned to the rio de mares. it was on november that he again sailed from the rio de mares, and on the next day that he sailed south-westward into a great gulf, which he supposed to divide cuba from another island called by the natives "bohio"--the word really meaning not an island at all but "home." thereafter for some time he was obviously cruising around guajaba island and romano key, which, with sabinal key, he supposed to be the mythical "bohio." some port, possibly boca de la yana, he called puerto principe, and the water, presumably between thiguano island and cocos key, he called the mar de la nuestra senora. rounding guillermo key, as we may suppose, he swung into the old bahama channel, and by wind and tide was carried backward to guajaba island and perhaps to nuevitas. thence he made his way westward and southward, rounding point sama and point lucrecia, and reaching port nipe and port banes on the morning of november . those two capacious bays he did not attempt to enter. he regarded them indeed not as bays but as straits, or arms of the sea, and the promontory between them he supposed to be an island. at taco he landed for a few moments, and then pursued his way, and at nightfall dropped anchors at what he called puerto santo, which we may probably identify with the modern baracoa. there he remained until december , when he sailed to the southeast, and the following day passed out of sight of cape maysi and left cuba behind him; crossing the windward passage to reach "bohio" or "babeque," where there were said to be pearls and gold, and reaching hayti, or santo domingo, which he called espagnola. he did not revisit cuba during the remainder of his first american voyage. espagnola, latinized by us into hispaniola, became thereafter the chief care of the admiral. it was there that he planted, on his second voyage, the first european colony in the western hemisphere. but after various operations in hayti, marked with both trials and triumphs, during his second american expedition he returned to the cuban coast for further explorations of what he still thought to be cipango. it was at the end of april, , that he sailed from mole st. nicholas, hayti, across the windward passage toward cape maysi, which he himself had called cape alpha and omega. instead, however, of retracing his way to baracoa and along the north coast, he went to the left of cape maysi and began skirting the southern coast of cuba. this route would, according to toscanelli's map, take him to the southward of mangi and cathay, but it would lead him to the golden chersonesus, around the southern shore of asia, and so home to europe by circumnavigating the globe. the points visited by him on this excursion are more easily and surely to be identified than those of his first voyage. his first landing was at guantanamo, which he called puerto grande. he found an entrance passage, winding but deep, leading in to a spacious land-locked lagoon, surrounded by hills covered with verdure. here he established friendly relations with the natives, and remained for two or three days. thence he sailed westward, as close to the shore as safety would permit, and frequently entered into friendly intercourse with the natives who thronged the strand to gaze in wonderment at his strange ships. at santiago de cuba he spent a night, and during his stay he diligently inquired of the natives for the land in which gold was to be found. they indicated it to lie farther to the south and west, doubtless meaning south america. columbus thereupon set sail in that direction, partly because gold was most desirable to obtain, and partly because he assumed the land of gold to be the land of the great khan, which he was still intent upon reaching. the result was his discovery of jamaica. a fortnight later, however, on may , he returned to cuba, reaching it at cabo de la cruz, or cape cruz. here he found a large village, whose chief and indeed all whose inhabitants had heard of him as one descended from heaven. he was hospitably received, and was able to make many inquiries about the country. he was told that cuba was an island, but of so vast extent that nobody had ever sailed around it. he thereupon set out to circumnavigate it and sailed from cape cruz northward into the gulf of guacanabo. there he found a multitude of small islands, which he named the queen's gardens, and there, remembering that marco polo and sir john mandeville had both reported the coast of asia to be fringed with a crowded archipelago, he was again confirmed in his belief that he was approaching the shore either of cathay or of the golden chersonesus. navigation among these islands, however, was difficult, dangerous and slow, particularly when tropical thunderstorms were raging, as they then were almost daily, and it was with much relief that the expedition at last reached the cuban coast, probably at or near santa cruz del sur. there they were told that they were in the province of ornofay; the province which they had formerly visited, at cape cruz, was macaca; and to the west there lay the important province of mangon, where they could secure much fuller information on all subjects. they were again assured that cuba was an island, but so vast in extent that nobody could hope ever to go around it. the mention of the province of mangon again stimulated the hopes and fancy of columbus. he identified it with mangi, the southernmost and richest province of the great khan, and in this he was confirmed by the fantastic statement of the natives, that the people of mangon had tails and wore long robes to conceal them! columbus recalled that sir john mandeville had related a similar story as current among some tribes in eastern asia. he therefore set out with renewed eagerness and expectation for the coast of mangon. emerging from the archipelago, he sailed for many miles along the southern coast of cuba, through an open sea, with the mountain ranges of santa clara at his right hand and at his left the open expanse of the caribbean, its intense blue attesting its depth. after passing the gulf of xagua, however, there came a sudden change. the sea became shallow, and thickly dotted with small islands, keys, and banks, while the water was white as milk. the voyagers had crossed the gulf of cazones and were among the juan luis keys, where the water is shallow and where at times the agitation of the water by storms causes it to be whitened and rendered opaque with the calcareous deposit with which the sea floor is there thickly covered. this character of the bottom also made it impossible for the vessels to find anchorage. the anchors dragged and the water became more white and turbid. to the members of the crews these phenomena caused great terror, which was by no means ill founded, since there was imminent danger of the vessels being driven ashore and wrecked. to columbus, in his state of mental exaltation and high expectancy, however, they were full of inspiration and encouragement to proceed, indicating to him that he was entering strange regions where extraordinary discoveries were to be made. for we must remember that, far as he was in advance of his time in geographical vision, he still thought that the earth was not globular but pear-shaped, and he expected to find tribes of men with tails, and with only one eye and with their heads growing beneath their shoulders! finding anchorage at last upon the shore of a small island, he sent the smallest of his vessels forward to explore the archipelago and also to visit the coast of the mainland. the report which was brought back to him was that the archipelago was as dense and as intricate as the gardens of the queen which they had left behind them, and that the coast of the mainland was flat, marshy, and covered with almost impenetrable mangrove forests, far beyond which fertile uplands and mountain ranges were to be seen, while numerous columns of smoke ascending gave token of a considerable population. at this the entire expedition proceeded, to retrace the course which had been pursued by the pilot caravel, and after much difficulty and occasional groundings of the vessels, the coast of cuba was reached, doubtless near the eastern extremity of the great zapata peninsula. the vast marshes gave little encouragement for landing, and the expedition continued eastward until punta gorda was reached, to which columbus gave the name of punta serafina. rounding this point and heading northward, the fine expanse of broa bay confronted them, with the coast of the province of havana far beyond, and with another archipelago at the west. the mountains which lie between guines and matanzas fringed the horizon, and toward them the admiral steered, presently reaching good anchorage off a most inviting coast. the mangrove swamps of zapata had been left behind, and here the shore was high and dry, and covered with groves of palm and other trees. here a landing was made, and copious supplies of fresh water were found for the refilling of their casks, while some of the archers strayed into the forest in quest of game. one of the latter presently returned in haste and fear, crying for help. he reported that he had seen in a forest glade three men of white complexion, clad in long white tunics, leading a company of about thirty more, armed with clubs and spears. they did not attack him, but one of them advanced alone as if to speak with him; whereupon he fled. at this report all his companions joined him in hastening back to the ships for safety. when columbus heard these things he was much pleased. he saw in them confirmation of what he had been told about the province of mangon, with its men who had tails and who wore long robes to hide them. he at once sent a strongly armed party inland to seek these men and parley with them; directing them to go as much as forty miles inland, if necessary, to find them, and to find the populous cities which he confidently believed to exist in that region. these explorers readily enough traversed the open palm forest which bordered the coast. but then they came to extensive open upland plains or savannahs, with few trees but with rank grass and other herbage as high as their heads and so dense as to be almost impenetrable. no roads or paths were to be found, and it was necessary to cut a trail through the herbage. for a mile they struggled on, and then gave up the attempt and returned to the ships. the next day another party was sent in another direction, with no better results. its members found fine open forests, abounding with grapevines laden with fruit, and they saw flocks of cranes which they described as twice the size of those of europe. but they also saw on the ground the footprints, as they supposed, of lions and of griffins, which so alarmed them that they beat a hasty retreat. lions, and indeed all large beasts of prey, were never known to exist in cuba, and the griffin was of course never anything but imaginary--unless a tradition of some prehistoric monster, ages ago extinct. but huge alligators or caymans abounded in cuban waters, and the footprints which frightened columbus's explorers were doubtless made by them. the observation of large cranes suggests, also, an explanation of the panic-stricken archer's story of men clothed in white robes. a flock of those huge birds, standing erect and in line, with their leader advanced before them, as is their custom, in the semi-gloom of a strange forest, might well have given him the impression of a company of white-robed men. of course, no men of that description were ever found in cuba, nor were there traces of any. it did not take columbus long to explore broa bay sufficiently to ascertain that it was not an arm of the sea, but a mere coastal indentation; whereupon he resumed his westward cruising. a little further on, probably in the neighborhood of batabano, he found the shore inhabited, and though neither he nor his interpreters could understand the language of the natives, they contrived to hold some communication with them by means of signs. he gleaned from them in this manner the information that far to westward, among the mountains, there was a great king, ruling in magnificence over many provinces; that he wore long white robes and was considered a semi-divine personage, and that he never spoke but conveyed his decrees in signs, which nobody dared to disobey. to what extent this was really intended by the natives, and to what extent was the mere figment of the admiral's lively imagination, it is impossible to say. it is entirely conceivable, however, that the cubans had some knowledge of the aztecs and toltecs of mexico, and the mayas of yucatan, and were referring to them. certainly they could not have referred to anybody in cuba. but columbus, as ever fondly believing whatever he wished to be true, confidently assumed that they were telling him of the mythical prester john, and that he was on the shores of that potentate's domain. the mountains of which the natives spoke, he supposed, were those of pinar del rio, which were already in sight on the northwestern horizon. concerning the extent of cuba, and of the coast along which he was sailing, columbus could get little information. he was told that the coast extended westward for at least twenty days' journey, but whether it then ended, and how it ended, he could not learn. he therefore took one of the natives with him as a guide, and resumed his voyage. almost immediately, however, he plunged into another archipelago, almost as dense and troublesome as that through which he had passed a few days before. making his way through it with great difficulty, he reached the coast of pinar del rio, and effected a landing amid swamps and forests, only to find the region uninhabited, though frequent columns of smoke rising inland indicated to him the presence of a considerable population. for some time he made his way along that inhospitable coast, which trended steadily toward the southwest, a direction agreeing with his conceptions of the asian coast as described by marco polo. surely, he thought, he was on the coast of indo-china, headed straight for the golden chersonesus. if he persisted, he would cross the indian ocean and reach the red sea, whence he could complete his journey to europe overland by way of palestine; or he could steer southward along the african coast and around that continent, and so reach home by circumnavigating the globe. these fancies appear to have been shared by his companions, among whom were several accomplished navigators and geographers. the delusions were of course largely due to the erroneous estimate of the size of the globe, which made its circumference too little by some thousands of miles. but his companions could not be persuaded to approve his scheme of going on to circumnavigate the globe. the glamor of that vision did not blind their eyes to the worn and dilapidated condition of the ships, the lack of supplies, and the weariness of the crews. they were in no condition, they insisted, to proceed further through unknown regions. it was already satisfactorily demonstrated, they held, that they had reached the asian coast. the part of prudence was to turn back to isabella, if not to spain, and refit their vessels for another and longer voyage. these counsels finally prevailed upon columbus himself, at the time when his flotilla lay at anchor in the bay of cortez, near the western extremity of cuba. he was indeed so near that extremity that a day or two more of sailing would have brought him to cape san antonio and would have shown him that cuba was an island. or from the top of some tall tree, or even from the mast head, he might have looked across the lakes and lowlands of that region and seen the waters of guadiana bay, on the north side of the island. but this was not to be. instead, he required every member of his company, from sailing master to cabin boy, to swear to and sign a formal declaration to the effect that the land which they had discovered and explored was a part of the indies and of the asian continent. then, on june , he turned his course toward the southeast, only to enter another archipelago, the san felipe and indian keys. beyond lay a large land, with mountains, to which he gave the name of evangelista. it was, of course, the isle of pines, which he reached a little south of point barcos. taking in a supply of water and wood, he skirted the coast southward, with the result that he ran into the land-locked recesses of the bay of sunianea. finding no thoroughfare in that direction, he sailed back almost to the bay of cortez, and then made his way along the cuban coast, through the archipelagoes, milky seas and what not which had given him so much trouble on his westward trip. it was on july that the next landing in cuba was made, at a point on the southeastern coast of camaguey, and at the mouth of a fine river which columbus called the rio de la missa but the identity of which is now uncertain. it may have been the san juan de najasa or the sevilla, or one of the several streams between those two. there, in a most genial and fruitful region, they spent some days and established friendly relations with the chief of a considerable community. in the presence of this chief and his retainers an altar was erected beneath a great tree, and mass was celebrated. an aged native, apparently a priest, watched this proceeding with much interest, and at its close approached columbus and addressed him, saying: "this which thou hast done is, i perceive, thy method of worshipping thy god; which is well. i am told that thou hast come hither with a strong force, and hast subdued many lands, filling the people with great fear. be not, however, vainglorious. the souls of men after these bodies are dead have, according to our belief, one of two journeys to pursue. one is to a place that is dismal, foul and dark, which is prepared for those who have been cruel and unjust to their fellow men. the other is to a place of light and joy, prepared for those who have practised peace and justice. therefore if thou art mortal, and must some time die, and dost expect that all men are to be rewarded according to the deeds done in their bodies, see that thou work justice and do no harm to those who have done no harm to thee." in this address was revealed the most that we know of the religion of the cuban aborigines. columbus listened to it with surprise and gratification, not having supposed that any such faith or such knowledge of the future life existed among the natives of cuba. he responded through his interpreter sympathetically, assuring the old man that he had been sent forth by his sovereigns to teach the true faith and to do good and no evil, and that all innocent and peaceable men might confidently look to him for friendship and protection. he also had his interpreter tell the people of the greatness, riches and splendor of spain; to which they listened in credulous bewilderment. then, on july , he sailed away from cuba again, amid expressions of regret by the chief and his comrades; taking with him one of the young men whom he afterward sent to the spanish court. but a storm struck his feeble vessels and nearly wrecked them. on july they anchored near cape cruz for repairs, and were most hospitably received by the natives. at last, on july , they departed for jamaica, whence they returned to isabella. never again did columbus visit cuba, though he approached its southern shore on his fourth voyage, on his way to the coast of central america. to the end of his life, presumably, he believed cuba to be a part of the asian continent, continuous with honduras and veragua. chapter iii we have already quoted the enthusiastic encomium of columbus upon cuba at his first sight of and landing upon its shore. his diary and his narrative to the sovereigns of leon and castile on his return to spain abound with similar expressions, as well as with informing bits of description of cuba as they then found it. in the very first days of his first visit he found villages of houses "made like booths, very large, and looking like tents in a camp without regular streets but one here and another there. within they were clean and well swept, with furniture well made. all were of palm branches, beautifully constructed. they found many images in the shape of women, and many heads like masks, very well carved. it was not known whether these were used as ornaments, or were to be worshipped." the waters abounded in fish, and the people of the coast regions were apparently nearly all fishermen. the only domestic animals were the "dogs which never barked," and birds in cages. there were seen, however, skulls like those of cows, on which account columbus assumed that inland there were herds of cattle. all night the air was vocal with the songs of birds and the chirping of crickets and other insects, which lulled the voyagers to rest. along the shore and in the mouths of rivers were found large shells, unlike any that he had known in spain, but no pearls were in them. the air was soft and salubrious, and the nights were neither hot nor cold. on the other islands which he had visited the heat was oppressive, a circumstance which he attributed to the flat and low-lying land; while cuba was mountainous and therefore was blessed with cooling breezes. at some point on the northeastern coast, probably in the neighborhood of point sama, a month after his first landing, he imagined that he had discovered deposits of gold. it was in the bed of a river, near its mouth, that he saw stones shining, as if with gold, and he had them gathered, to take home to spain and to present to the sovereigns. at the same point some of the sailors called his attention to the pine trees on a neighboring hill. they were "so wonderfully large that he could not exaggerate their height and straightness, and he perceived that in them was material for great stores of planks and masts for the largest ships of spain." further on, probably in the neighborhood of baracoa, "they came to the largest inhabited place that they had yet seen, and a vast concourse of people came down to the beach with loud shouts, all naked, with darts in their hands." columbus desired to have speech with them, and accordingly anchored his ships and sent boats ashore, bearing gifts for the natives. the people at first seemed inclined to resist any landing, but when the spaniards in the boats pressed on and began to land, without manifesting any fear, they abandoned their hostile attitude and began to withdraw. the spaniards who landed called to them and strove to lure them back, but without success. they all ran away. in consequence of this and similar incidents, columbus wrote: "i have not been able to see much of the natives, because they take to flight. but now, if our lord pleases, i will see as much as possible, and will proceed little by little, learning and comprehending; and i will make some of my followers learn the language--for i have perceived that there is only one language up to this point. after they understand the advantages i shall labor to make all these people christians. they will readily become such, because they have no religion nor idolatry; and your highnesses"--he was addressing the sovereigns, in his journal--"will send orders to build a city and fortress, and to convert these people. "it does not appear to me," he continued, "that there can be a more fertile country or a better climate under the sun, with more abundant supplies of water. this is not like the rivers of guinea, which are all pestilential. i thank our lord that up to this time there has not been a person of my company who has had so much as a head-ache, except one old man who has suffered from stone all his life, and he was well again in two days. i speak of all three vessels. if it should please god that your highness should send learned men out here, they will see the truth of all i have said." while in the neighborhood of baracoa, at the end of november and beginning of december, , he saw a canoe made of the hole of a single tree, palms long and capable of carrying persons. "leaving the river, they came to a cove in which there were five large canoes, so well constructed that it was a pleasure to look at them. they were under spreading trees, and a path led to them from a very well built boathouse, so thatched that neither sun nor rain could do any harm. within it there was another canoe made out of a single tree like the others, like a galley with benches. it was a pleasant sight to look upon such goodly work. "the admiral ascended a mountain, and afterward found the country level and cultivated with many things. in the middle there was a large village, and they came upon the people suddenly, but as soon as they were seen the men and women took to flight. the admiral made the indian from on board, who was with him, give them bells, copper ornaments, and glass beads, green and yellow, with which they were well content. he saw that they had no gold nor any other precious thing, and that it would suffice to leave them in peace. the whole district was well peopled.... no arms are carried by them except wands, on the point of which a short piece of wood is fixed, hardened by fire, and these they are very ready to exchange. "returning to where he had left the boats, he sent back some men up the hill, because he fancied he had seen a large apiary. before those he had sent could return, they were joined by many indians, and they went to the boats, where the admiral was waiting with all his people. one of the natives advanced into the river near the stern of the boat and made a long speech, which the admiral did not understand. at intervals the other indians raised their hands to heaven and shouted. the admiral thought that the orator was assuring him that he was pleased at his arrival. but he saw the indian who came from the ship change the color of his face and turn as yellow as wax, trembling much and indicating to the admiral by signs that he should leave the river, as they were going to kill him. the admiral then pointed to a cross-bow which one of his followers had, and showed it to the indians, making them understand that they would all be slain, because that weapon killed people at a great distance. he also drew a sword from its sheath and showed it to them, telling them that it, too, would slay them. thereupon they all took to flight; while the indian from the ship still trembled from cowardice, though he was a tall, strong man." columbus then determined to seek further acquaintance with the natives, and accordingly had his boat rowed to a point on the shore of the river where they were assembled in great numbers. they were naked, and painted; some wearing tufts of feathers on their heads, and all carrying bundles of darts. "i came to them," said columbus, "and gave them bread, asking for the darts, in exchange for which i gave copper ornaments, bells and glass beads. this made them peaceable, so that they came to the boats again and gave us what they had. the sailors had killed a turtle, and the shell was on the boat, cut into pieces, some of which the sailors gave them in exchange for a bundle of darts. they were like the other people we had seen, with the same belief that we had come from heaven." they were ready, he added, to give anything that they had in exchange for any trifle, which they would accept without saying that it was little, and columbus believed that they would thus give away gold and spices, if they had had any. in one of the houses which he entered "shells and other things were fastened to the ceiling." he thought that it was a temple, and he inquired, by signs, if such was the case and if prayers were there offered. the natives replied in the negative, and one of them climbed up to take down the ceiling ornaments and give them to columbus, who accepted a few of them. it was early in november, , that one of the most noteworthy discoveries in relation to cuba was made. at that time columbus sent inland from the port at the mouth of the rio de mares two men, rodrigo de jerez and luis de torres, to explore the inland country and to find if possible the high road to the capital and palace of the great khan. these men did not find what they had been sent for, but something else, which proved in after years to be of incalculable value to cuba and to the world. to quote las casas: "they met on the road many men and women, passing to their villages, the men always with half-burned brands in their hands and certain herbs for smoking. these herbs are dry and are placed in a dry leaf made in the shape of the paper tubes which the boys make at easter. lighted at one end, at the other the smoke is sucked or drawn in with the breath. the effect of it is to make them sleepy and as it were intoxicated, and they say that using it relieves the feeling of fatigue. these rolls they call 'tabacos.'" some of columbus's men, when it was reported to them, tried smoking the "tabacos," and the habit soon became prevalent among the spanish colonists in hispaniola. these few items, then, compose practically the sum and substance of the knowledge which columbus acquired of that land which was, second to only the continent, by far the most important of all his discoveries. they are few and meagre. it is indeed doubtful if history records an even approximately comparable instance of the disappearance of a numerous and capable people from a country of vast interest and importance, leaving behind them so few traces of themselves and so little information concerning them. for these things are not merely all that columbus learned about cuba. they are all that his successors learned and that the world has ever learned about cuba as it existed prior to and at the time of the great discovery. tobacco, hammocks, canoes, and the name of the island and the names of various places on it which have persisted in spite of the repeated attempts to substitute a new nomenclature; these are the world's memorials of pre-columbian cuba. the brief visits and superficial inspection which we have recorded were not, however, destined to be the full compass of the discoverer's personal relationship to cuba. while he did not again visit the island in life, nor give to it any of the attention which ampler knowledge would have shown him it deserved, his mortal remains were conveyed thither, and there remained for a considerable period; though by a strange fatality this fact, well authenticated as it is, has been persistently and elaborately disputed, until the tomb of columbus has in the minds of many become almost as much a matter of speculation and uncertainty as the place of his birth. it was on ascension day, may , , that columbus died at valladolid, in spain, and there his body was laid to rest in the parish church of santa maria de la antigua, a church of the franciscan fathers. the date of the first removal is unknown, and is much disputed. some have placed it as late as the year , while others, as the result of later and more assured research, declare it to have been within a year or two, or at most within three years, of his death. of the new place of sepulture, however, there is no question. it was in a chapel of the carthusian monastery of santa maria de las cuevas, at seville; where also, years afterward, were laid the remains of his son, diego, who died at montalban on february , . but as in life, so in death columbus must needs be a wanderer. in the city of santo domingo, the capital of that island colony of hispaniola to which columbus's chief attention had been given, demanded to be made the repository of the body of its founder. accordingly, charles i decreed the removal, and the bodies of christopher columbus and his son diego were both transferred from seville to a double tomb in the cathedral of santo domingo, hard by the fortress in which the discoverer had once been confined by bobadilla as a prisoner. thus far the record was and is clear; and for two and a half centuries the tomb remained inviolate. indeed, it was so little meddled with that its precise location became a matter of doubt, save that it was somewhere "in the main sanctuary" of the cathedral. the first attempt to determine it was made about by the french politician and writer, moreau de saint-mery, a kinsman of the empress josephine and a member of the colonial council of santo domingo. diligent inquiry, without actual exhumation, resulted in the information that the remains of christopher columbus, enclosed first in a leaden casket and then in a massive coffin of stone, lay underneath the gospel side of the sanctuary, and that those of his brother, bartholomew columbus, similarly enclosed, lay underneath the epistle side. this was contrary, in one respect, to the understanding of years before, which was that it was the body of columbus's grandson luis which lay under the epistle side of the sanctuary. the problem was complicated by the fact that the cathedral had been so remodelled that the tomb of columbus was underneath its wall, where actual examination was difficult; and in fact no exhumation was then attempted. in , however, the island was transferred to french sovereignty, and the spanish governor, on relinquishing his rule, requested permission to remove the remains of columbus to havana, cuba, in order that they might continue to rest beneath the spanish flag. this was granted to him, and accordingly, in january, , the tomb beneath the wall on the gospel side of the sanctuary of the cathedral of santo domingo was opened, and the coffin found within was reverently removed and borne to havana, where it was deposited in a new tomb in the cathedral--formerly the church of the jesuits--where its presence was indicated by a medallion and inscription on the wall of the chancel. for many years that was indubitably regarded as the tomb of the discoverer. it was not until that doubt of this fact arose. in that year repairs were made to the cathedral of santo domingo, in the course of which the rector, the rev. francis navier billini, insisted upon reopening the tomb underneath the epistle side of the sanctuary, which had of old been reputed to contain the coffin of luis columbus, but which saint-mery had been informed contained the remains of bartholomew columbus. there was discovered a leaden casket, which, like that which had been taken to havana, bore no inscription. but upon or close by it there lay a sheet of lead bearing the words, "the admiral don luis colon, duke of veragua and marquis of...." the remainder was undecipherable. the casket was therefore accepted as that of columbus's grandson; confirming the common belief before the time of saint-mery. not content with this discovery, the enterprising rector continued his excavations, and presently the finding of another leaden casket was announced, which was reported to bear an inscription, much abbreviated, which, amplified, ran thus: "discoverer of america; first admiral." this created a great sensation, and stimulated dominican pride. the rector at once sent for the president of santo domingo and other dignitaries of state and church, including various foreign diplomats and consuls, and in their presence continued the examination of the treasure trove. upon opening the casket, the inner side of the lid was found also to bear an inscription, greatly abbreviated, which was interpreted as reading: "illustrious and noble man, don cristoval colon." this the dominicans joyfully proclaimed to be proof positive that the remains of the discoverer were still in their possession, and that the casket which had been taken to havana contained the bones of some other member of the columbus family. from that event arose a controversy which probably will never be settled to universal satisfaction. the dominicans marshalled to the support of their claims various historical and antiquarian authorities, and the cubans and the spanish government secured at least an equal array in support of their claim that the remains of columbus had been transferred to havana. a strongly convincing report to the latter effect was made to the spanish government by señor colmeiro, of the spanish royal academy of history, and his judgment was generally accepted throughout cuba and spain. it was pointed out that the inscriptions contained various anachronisms indicating that they must have been written at a much later date than that of the death and interment of columbus. havana therefore continued confidently to pride itself upon being the repository of the dust of the great admiral, and his tomb in the ancient cathedral was thus recognized and revered by countless visitors. but at last, in , after the independence of cuba from spain had been accomplished, a request was made by the spanish government for the transfer of the casket and its precious contents back to spain, where historically they belonged. it was indeed pointed out that the transfer to havana in had been intended to be only temporary, pending a fitting opportunity for a further removal to spain. this request was granted, and the dust of the discoverer was finally reinterred in the cathedral of seville. [illustration: the havana cathedral originally the church of the jesuits, this imposing edifice was built in , though not completed until , and took the place of the first cathedral in . within a tomb within its walls the remains of columbus rested from , when they were taken thither from santo domingo, to , when they were conveyed to spain.] chapter iv between these first merely tentative and inconclusive visits of columbus to cuba, in which so much was imagined and so little learned or done, and the actual occupation and settlement of the island, which were reserved for a few years later, it will be profitable to pause for a brief space, to review what science has revealed to us of not merely the pre-columbian but indeed what we may term the archaic history of this chief member of the antillean group. it is a history written in the rocks and soils, in the mountains and plains and rivers; in brief, the natural history of the island. this was something at which columbus could merely have guessed, if indeed he had taken the trouble to think of it at all. he knew only that it was a fair land to look upon and promised to be a pleasant land in which to dwell; and his successors in the quest hoped to find its river beds and its mountain rocks rich with the gold which they coveted. that was all. it remained for the ampler knowledge and the more patient and painstaking research of later years to analyze the structure of the island, to discern the causes and the processes through which it had been developed into its present beautiful and opulent condition, and to learn that on the surface and just below the surface of its almost infinitely variegated face there lay the potency and the promise of wealth beyond the utmost limits of the dreams of those conquistadors of ancient spain who were oestrus-driven by the _auri sacra fames_. let us consider, then, the geological history of cuba, so far as it has been ascertained; and the topography of the land as it has been revealed through a far more comprehensive survey than that of the great admiral's enraptured vision. it is, of course, impossible to know the geological history of a country until its paleontology has been thoroughly studied and investigated. where formations of different geological ages are lithologically so similar as to be often indistinguishable, the only method of differentiating them is by their fossils. some paleontological work has been done in cuba, but the specimens collected were not accompanied by the necessary data. in the present imperfect state of our knowledge of the stratigraphy and areal geology of the island, it would be hazardous to attempt to indicate the times at which the various levels were developed, or to designate the periods during which they remained above the level of the sea. to do this would require a detailed knowledge of nearly all the various phases of its geology. the oldest rocks in cuba, with the possible exception of the schistose limestones of trinidad, are composed of granites and serpentines. the relative age of these rocks, to the central mass of limestones in the province of pinar del rio, has not been determined, but we do know that the oldest igneous rocks were themselves folded, faulted and subjected to other processes of metamorphism, and that subsequent to the changes to which they were subjected, the entire region was uplifted and deeply eroded before the cretaceous sedimentation began. no data are available for determining the geologic period at which the pre-cretaceous erosion began, but the region has doubtless been standing above the waters of the ocean for a very long interval, since the amount of rock carried away has been manifestly great. the surface upon which the cretaceous sediments were deposited, appears to have been reduced by erosion to a very low relief, so that the land was a featureless plain when the cretaceous subsidence began. the time interval required for the accomplishment of this erosion must have been very long, since when it began the region was undoubtedly mountainous. the complex character and disturbed altitude of the pre-cretaceous rocks, the granites, diorites and other granular rocks which appear on the surface because of this erosion, were originally formed deep within the crust of the earth, and therefore furnish a reason for believing that this period of erosion was exceedingly long. it has been suggested that during the jurassic times, the southeastern coast of the united states was connected by a long isthmus, following the line of the antilles, to the northeastern coast of south america. the data presented would seem to indicate that at least the eastern half of cuba stood high above the level during this period of the earth's history, and although data concerning the western half are less definite, it too was probably composed of high land masses. the elevation, and long period of erosion just described, were followed by subsidence, and on the surface of these old rocks the cretaceous formations were deposited. the lowest cretaceous rocks yet found are composed of an arkose, derived in large part from the original igneous mass. the main body of the strata is composed of limestones, and such fossils as they contain belong to the genera similar to those of the cretaceous rocks of jamaica--radiolites, barrettra, requienia, etc. during this time the whole of the island of cuba was probably submerged below the level of the sea. the cretaceous rocks in santa clara province occur in the bottoms of synclines, and the projected dips appear sufficiently to carry the beds over the tops of the dividing anti-clinal axis. it is believed, however, that the depth of the cretaceous sea over the island was probably never very great. owing to a lack of paleontological data, the history of the island during the eocene time is vague, but it is probable that a large part of it was submerged. this is certainly true of the province of oriente, where eocene fossils have been collected. during, and possibly previous to that period, volcanic agencies were active in oriente, since volcanic rocks are found interbedded with sediments of the eocene age. the same forces were probably active in other sections of the island, and the intrusion of diorite porphyries in santa clara and other provinces probably took place during that period. a portion of the island, at least in the vicinity of baracoa, was deeply submerged during the lower oligocene times, as is proved by the occurrence of radiolarian earth beneath the upper oligocene limestones near the above town. radiolarian oozes are at present being formed on the sea bottom at depths of between , and , fathoms. this, of course, does not prove that the deposits of baracoa were laid down at so great a depth as present day dredging would indicate, but we can at least feel confident that they were formed in very deep water. this does not imply however that the whole island was sunken to the abysmal depths. during the upper oligocene time very nearly the whole island was undoubtedly submerged. previous to this volcanic agencies had been very active throughout the larger portion of the island. mountain building in oriente had begun before the deposition of upper oligocene strata, and the sierra maestra had already been elevated to a considerable height above the sea. it is probable that the sea at this time covered the whole of the island, with the exception of portions of oriente province along its north and south coast, and occasional high peaks along the axis of the provinces further west. the miocene period was one of general uplift. the whole of the island as we at present know it, was above the level of the ocean's waters. there were foldings and uplifts during this period, and volcanic elevation along the axial line being greater than at the sides. it is probable that the folding of the oligocene strata noted in the vicinity of havana and matanzas took place during this time. it may be inferred that the central portion of the province of oriente was more highly elevated than the coastal portions, since upper oligocene limestones occur in this section at considerably higher elevations than along either the north or south coast. it is furthermore very probable that the terracing of the oligocene coral reefs, such as may be seen in the vicinity of the city of santiago, was taking place during that time. all the evidence goes to show that these are wave-cut terraces. it may be added here that all of the elevated pleistocene coral reefs recorded are plastered on the surface of the upper oligocene formations, or in some instances older geologic rocks. this applies to every later coral terrace that has been described, beginning with cabanas and extending entirely around the island to the city of santiago. the existence of marine pliocene in cuba has not been proved. there may be pliocene rocks in the vicinity of havana some feet above the sea level. if these are true pliocene, it would indicate a subsidence during that time of from iso to feet. the character of the fauna found in the quarry on calle infanta does not indicate a greater depth than from so to feet for the water in which the limestone was deposited. subsequent to this deposition, there was an elevation which caused the land to stand some forty or fifty feet higher than it does to-day. this probably took place in early pleistocene times, at which time the isle of pines and cuba were connected. one reason for the belief in this elevation is the existence of an old, deep and comparatively narrow cut in the bed of the present channel leading out of havana harbor. there is further evidence of a general elevation found in borings for water, three miles southeast of the city of santiago. at a depth of some feet below the sea level, in the rio san juan valley, stream-carried pebbles were found. this would indicate that the bottom of this valley once stood at least feet or more above sea level. subsequent to this elevation, there was a subsidence varying from to feet. there were doubtless other slight oscillations during the pleistocene period, and these may be going on at the present time, although we have no evidence from records of actually measured monuments established since the spanish occupation of the island. paleontologic, biologic and physiographic research seems to indicate that there has been no land connection between cuba and north america at any time since the beginning of the tertiary, unless perhaps during the oligocene period, and it seems probable there was no connection whatever during cretaceous times. cuba furnishes a very interesting field, not only for geologic research, but for a far more extended study and survey of its many important mineral zones both for scientific and for economic reasons. topographically the surface of cuba may be divided into five rather distinct zones, three of which are essentially mountainous. the first includes the entire eastern third of the province of oriente, together with the greater part of its coast line, where the highest mountains of the island are found. the second includes the greater part of the province of camaguey, made up of gently rolling plains broken by occasional hills or low mountains, that along the northern coast, and again in the southeast center of the province, rise to a height of approximately , feet above the general level. the next is a mountainous district including the greater part of eastern santa clara. the fourth comprises the western portion of this province together with all of matanzas and havana. the surface of this middle section is largely made up of rolling plains, broken here and there by hills that rise a few hundred feet above the sea level. the fifth includes the province of pinar del rio, the northern half of which is traversed from one end to the other by several more or less parallel ranges of sierras, with mean altitudes ranging from , to , feet, leaving the southern half of the province a flat plain, into which, along its northern edge, project spurs and foot hills of the main range. the highest mountains of cuba are located in the province of oriente, where their general elevation is somewhat higher than that of the allegheny or eastern ranges of the united states. the mountainous area of this province is greater than that of the combined mountain areas of all other parts of the island. the mountains occur in groups, composed of different kinds of rock, and have diverse structures, more or less connected with one another. the principal range is the sierra maestra, extending from cabo cruz to the bay of guantanamo, forty miles east of santiago. this chain is continuous and of fairly uniform altitude, with the exception of a break in the vicinity of santiago where the wide basin of santiago bay cuts across the main trend of the range. the highest peak of the island is known as turquino, located near the middle of the sierra maestra, and reaching an altitude of , feet. the hills back of santiago bay, separating it from the valley of the cauto, are similar in structure to the northern foothills of the main sierra. in the western part of the range, the mountains rise abruptly from the depths of the caribbean sea, but near the city of santiago, and to the eastward, they are separated from the ocean by a narrow coastal plain, very much dissected. the streams which traverse it occupy valleys several hundred feet in depth, while the remnants of the plateau appear in the tops of the hills. east of guantanamo bay there are mountains which are structurally distinct from the sierra maestra, and these continue to cape maysi, the eastern terminus of cuba. to the west they rise abruptly from the ocean bed, but further east they are bordered by terraced foothills. towards the north they continue straight across the island as features of bold relief, connecting with the rugged cuchillas of baracoa, and with "el yunque" lying to the southwest. extending west from this eastern mass are high plateaus and mesas that form the northern side of the great amphitheatre which drains into guantanamo bay. much of this section, when raised from the sea, was probably a great elevated plain, cut up and eroded through the ages since the seismic uplift that caused its birth. the most prominent feature of the northern mountains of oriente province, west of "el yunque," is the range comprising the sierras cristal and nipe. these extend east and west, but are separated into several distinct masses by the rio sagua, and the rio mayari, which break through and empty into harbors on the north coast. the high country south of these ranges has the character of a deeply dissected plateau, the upper stratum of which is limestone. the character of the surface would indicate that nearly all the mountains of the eastern part of oriente have been carved through erosion of centuries from a high plateau, the summits of which are found in "el yunque" near baracoa, and other flat topped mountains within the drainage basins of the mayari and the sagua rivers. the flat summits of the sierra nipe are probably remnants of the same great uplift. below this level are other benches or broad plateaus, the two most prominent occurring respectively at , and , feet above sea level. the highest summits rise to an altitude of , or , feet. the , foot plateau of the sierra nipe alone includes an area estimated at not less than square miles. it would seem that these elevated plateaus with their rich soils might be utilized for the production of wheat, and some of the northern fruits that require a cooler temperature than that found in other parts of cuba. in the province of oriente, the various mountain groups form two marginal ranges, which merge in the east, and diverge toward the west. the southern range is far more continuous, while the northern is composed of irregular groups separated by numerous river valleys. between these divergent ranges lies the broad undulating plain of the famous cauto valley, which increases in width as it extends westward. the northern half of this valley merges into the plains of camaguey, whose surface has been disturbed by volcanic uplifts only by a small group known as the najassa hills, in the southeast center of the province, and by the sierra cubitas range, which parallels the coast from the basin of nuevitas bay until it terminates in the isolated hill known as loma cunagua. the central mountainous region of the island is located in the province of santa clara, where a belt of mountains and hills following approximately northeast and southwest lines, passes through the cities of sancti spiritus and santa clara. four groups are found here, one of which lies southwest of sancti spiritus and east of the rio agabama. a second group is included between the valleys of the agabama and the rio arimao. the highest peak of santa clara is known as potrerillo, located seven miles north of trinidad, with an altitude of , feet. a third group lies southeast of the city of santa clara, and includes the sierra del escambray and the alta de agabama. the rounded hills of this region have an altitude of about , feet although a few of the summits are somewhat higher. the fourth group consists of a line of hills, beginning miles east of sagua la grande, and extending into the province of camaguey. the trend of this range is transverse with the general geological structure of the region. east of the city of santa clara the hills of this last group merge with those of the central portion of the province. the summits in the northern line reach an altitude of only a thousand feet. the principal members are known as the sierra morena, west of sagua la grande, lomas de santa fe, near camaguini, the sierra de bamburanao, near yaguajay, and the lomas of the savanas, south of the last mentioned town. in the province of pinar del rio, we find another system, or chain of mountains, dominated by the sierra de los organos or organ mountains. these begin a little west of guardiana bay, with a chain of "magotes" known as the "pena blanca," composed of tertiary limestone. these are the result of a seismic upheaval running from north to south, almost at right angles with the main axis of the chains that form the mountainous vertebrae of the island. between the city of pinar del rio and the north coast of la esperanza, the organos are broken up into four or five parallel ridges, two of which are composed of limestone, while the others are of slate, sandstones and schists. the term "magote," in cuba, is applied to one of the most interesting and strikingly beautiful mountain formations in the world. they are evidently remnants of high ranges running usually from east to west, and have resulted from the upheaval of tertiary strata that dates back probably to the jurassic period. the soft white material of this limestone, through countless eons of time, has been hammered by tropical rains that gradually washed away the surface and carved their once ragged peaks into peculiar, round, dome-shaped elevations that often rise perpendicularly to a height of , feet or more above the level grass plains that form their base. meanwhile the continual seepage of water formed great caverns within, that sooner or later caved in and fell, hastening thus the gradual leveling to which all mountains are doomed as long as the world is supplied with air and water. the softening and continual crumbling away of the rock have formed a rich soil on which grows a wonderful wealth of tropical vegetation, unlike anything known to other sections of cuba, or perhaps to the world. the valley of the vinales, lying between the city of pinar del rio and the north coast, might well be called the garden of the "magotes," since not only is it surrounded by their precipitous walls, but several of them, detached from the main chain, rise abruptly from the floor of the valley, converting it into one of the most strangely beautiful spots in the world. john d. henderson, the naturalist, in speaking of this region, says: "the valley of the vinales must not be compared with the yosemite or grand cañon, or some famed alpine passage, for it cannot display the astounding contrast of these, or of many well-known valleys among the higher mountains of the world. we were all of us traveled men who viewed this panorama, but all agreed that never before had we gazed on so charming a sight. there are recesses among the rocky mountains of canada into which one gazes with awe and bated breath, where the very silence oppresses, and the beholder instinctively reaches out for support to guard against slipping into the awful chasm below. but the valley of vinales, on the contrary, seems to soothe and lull the senses. like great birds suspended in the sky, we long to soar above it, and then alighting within some palm grove, far below, to rejoice in its atmosphere of perfect peace." a mountain maze of high, round-topped lomas, dominates almost the entire northern half of pinar del rio. it is the picturesque remnant of an elevated plain that at some time in the geological life of the island was raised above the surface , , perhaps , , feet. this, through the erosion of thousands of centuries, has been carved into great land surges, without any particular alignment or system. straight up through the center of this mountainous area are projected a series of more or less parallel limestone ridges. these, as a rule, have an east and west axis, and attain a greater elevation than the lomas. they are known as the sierras de los organos, although having many local names at different points. water and atmospheric agencies have carved them into most fantastic shapes, so that they do, in places, present an organ pipe appearance. they are almost always steep, often with vertical walls or "paradones" that rise , feet from the floor or base on which they rest. the northernmost range, running parallel to the gulf coast, is known as the "costanero." the highest peak of pinar del rio is called guajaibon, which rises to an altitude of , feet, with its base but very little above the level of the sea. it is probably of jurassic limestone and forms the eastern outpost of the costaneros. the southern range of the organos begins with an interesting peak known as the pan de azucar, located only a few miles east of the pena blanca. from this western sentinel with many breaks extends the great southern chain of the organos with its various groups of "magotes," reaching eastward throughout the entire province. at its extreme eastern terminus we find a lower and detached ridge known as the pan de guanajay, which passes for a few miles beyond the boundary line, and into the province of havana. surrounding the organos from la esperanza west, and bordering it also on the south for a short distance east of the city of pinar del rio, are ranges of round topped lomas, composed largely of sandstone, slate and shale. the surface of these is covered with the small pines, scrubby palms and undergrowth found only on poor soil. from the mulato river east, along the north coast, the character of the lomas changes abruptly. here we have deep rich soil covered with splendid forests of hard woods, that reach up into the organos some ten miles back from the coast. along the southern edge of the organos, from herredura east, lies a charming narrow belt of rolling country covered with a rich sandy loam that extends almost to the city of artemisa. extensions, or occasional outcroppings, of the pinar del rio mountain system, appear in the province of havana, and continue on into matanzas, where another short coastal range appears, just west of the valley of the yumuri. this, as before stated, has its continuation in detached ranges that extend along the entire north coast, with but few interruptions, until merged into the mountain maze of eastern oriente. outside of the mountainous district thus described, the general surface of cuba is a gently undulating plain, with altitudes varying from only a few feet above the sea level to or feet, near el cristo in oriente. in pinar del rio it forms a piedmont plain that entirely surrounds the mountain range. on the south this plain has a maximum width of about miles and ascends gradually from the shores of the caribbean at the rate of seven or eight feet to the mile until it reaches the edge of the foothills along the line of the automobile drive connecting havana with the capital of pinar del rio. north of the mountain range, the lowland belt is very much narrower and in some places reaches a height of feet as a rule deeply dissected, so that in places only the level of the hill tops mark the position of the original plain. the two piedmont plains of pinar del rio unite at the eastern extremity of the organos mountains and extend over the greater part of the provinces of havana and matanzas and the western half of santa clara. the divide as a whole is near the center of this plain, although the land has a gradual slope from near the northern margin towards the south. in the neighborhood of havana, the elevation varies between and feet, continuing eastward to cardenas. the streams flowing north have lowered their channels as the land rose, and the surface drained by them has become deeply dissected, while the streams flowing toward the south have been but little affected by the elevation and remain generally in very narrow channels. east of cardenas the general elevation of the plain is low, sloping gradually both north and south from the axis of the island. considerable areas of this plain are found among the various mountain groups in the eastern half of santa clara province, beyond which it extends over the greater part of camaguey and into oriente. here it reaches the northern coast between isolated mountain groups, extending as far east as nipe bay, and toward the south, merges into the great cauto valley. from cabo cruz the plain extends along the northern base of the sierra maestra to the head of the cauto valley. its elevation near manzanillo is about feet, whence it increases to feet at el cristo. in the central section of oriente, the cauto river and its tributaries have cut channels into this plain from to feet in depth. in the lower part of the valley these channels are sometimes several miles across and are occupied by alluvial flats or river bottoms. they decrease in width toward the east and in the upper part of the valley become narrow gorges. a large part of this plain of cuba, especially in the central provinces, is underlaid by porous limestone, through which the surface waters have found underground passages. this accounts for the fact that large areas are occasionally devoid of flowing surface streams. the rain water sinks into the ground as soon as it falls, and after flowing long distances under ground, emerges into bold springs, such as those of the almendares that burst out of the river bank some eight miles south of the city of havana. engineers of the rope and cordage plant, just north of the city of matanzas, while boring for water, found unexpectedly a swift, running river, only ten feet below the surface, that has given them an inexhaustible supply of excellent water. most of the plains of cuba above indicated have been formed by the erosion of its surface, and are covered with residual soil derived from the underlying limestones. where they consist of red or black clays they are, as a rule, exceedingly fertile. certain portions of the plains, especially those bordering on the southern side of the mountains of pinar del rio, are covered with a layer of sand and gravel, washed down from the adjoining highlands, and are, as a rule, inferior in fertility to soils derived from the erosion of limestone. similar superficial deposits are met in the vicinity of cienfuegos, and in other sections of the island, where the plain forms a piedmont adjacent to highlands composed of silicious rocks. the most striking and perhaps the most important fact in regard to the climate of cuba is its freedom from those extremes of temperature which are considered prejudicial to health in any country. the difference between the mean annual temperature of winter and that of summer is only twelve degrees, or from degrees to degrees. even between the coldest days of winter, when the mercury once went as low as degrees, and the extreme limit of summer, registered as degrees, we have a difference of only degrees; and the extremes of summer are seldom noticed, since the fresh northeast trade winds coming from the atlantic sweep across the island, carrying away with them the heated atmosphere of the interior. the fact that the main axis of the island, with its seven hundred mile stretch of territory, extends from southeast to northwest, almost at right angles to the general direction of the wind, plays a very important part in the equability of cuba's climate. then again, the island is completely surrounded by oceans, the temperature of which remains constant, and this plays an important part in preventing extremes of heat or cold. ice, of course, cannot form, and frost is found only on the tops of the tallest mountain ranges. the few cold days during winter, when the thermometer may drop to after sundown, are the advance waves of "northers" that sweep down from the dakotas, across oklahoma and the great plains of texas, eventually reaching cuba, but only after the sting of the cold has been tempered in its passage of six hundred miles across the gulf of mexico. a temperature of degrees in cuba is not agreeable to the natives, or even to those residents who once lived in northern climes. this may be due to the fact that life in the tropics has a tendency to thin the blood, and to render it less resistant to low temperature; and also because cuban residences are largely of stone, brick or reinforced concrete, with either tile or marble floors, and have no provision whatever against cold. and, although the walls are heavy, the windows, doors and openings are many times larger than those of residences in the united states, hence the cold cannot readily be excluded as in other countries. there is said to be but one fireplace on the island of cuba, and that was built in the beautiful home of an american, near guayabal, just to remind him, he said, of the country whence he came. again, in the matter of rainfall and its bearing on the climate of a country, cuba is very fortunate. the rains all come in the form of showers during the summer months, from the middle of may until the end of october, and serve to purify and temper the heat of summer. on the other hand, the cooler months of winter are quite dry, and absolutely free from the chilling rains, sleets, snows, mists and dampness, that endanger the health, if not the life, of those less fortunate people who dwell in latitudes close to degrees. cloudy, gloomy days are almost unknown in cuba, and the sun can be depended upon to shine for at least thirty days every month, and according to the testimony of physicians nothing is better than sunshine to eliminate the germs of contagious diseases. hence we can truthfully say that in the matter of climate and health, cuba asks no favor of any country on earth. chapter v for a considerable time after the last visit of columbus, cuba was strangely neglected by the enterprising explorers and conquistadors of spain. hispaniola, since known as hayti or santo domingo, became the chief colony and centre of spanish authority in the antilles, and it for many years far outranked cuba in interest and importance. it does not appear that for more than a dozen years after the last visit of columbus any attempt whatever was made to colonize or to explore the great island, if indeed it was so much as voluntarily visited. navigators doubtless frequently passed near its shores, on their way to and from darien and the venezuelan coast, and occasionally stress of weather on the "stormy caribbean" or actual shipwreck compelled some to land upon it. such involuntary landings were presumably made either in the neighborhood of the zapata peninsula or, still more probably, not exactly upon cuba at all but upon the southern shore of the tributary isle of pines. in consequence, the voyagers carried back to hispaniola or to spain the not unnatural report that cuba consisted of nothing but swamps; a report which of course did not inspire others with zeal to visit so unfavorable a place. for a similar space of time, too, the delusion that cuba was a part of the continent generally prevailed. it is true that on a map of juan de la cosa's, to which the date of is attributed, cuba is indicated to be an island. but the date is not certain, by any means; and it is notorious that more than one early cartographer drew upon imagination as well as upon ascertained geographical facts. somewhat more significant is the fact that peter martyr spoke of cuba as an island, and said that some sailors pretended to have circumnavigated it. there is no proof, however, that this was more than rumor. what seems certain is that as late as the best authorities were ignorant whether cuba was island or mainland, and that not until that time was the question settled. columbus had been succeeded in authority in hispaniola by francisco de bobadilla, and the latter in turn had in given way to nicholas de ovando. it does not appear that ovando sought to colonize cuba. but he did wish to determine its extent, and whether it was insular or continental, and in a memorial to the king of spain he broached a proposal for at least its littoral exploration. ferdinand gave him, however, no encouragement. on the contrary, he forbade him to spend any public money on so needless and useless an enterprise. ovando then decided to undertake the exploit at his own charge, and, according to las casas, commissioned sebastian de ocampo to explore the coasts of the country and, if he found it to be an island, to circumnavigate it. this ocampo did, returning to hispaniola in the fall of with the report that he had sailed completely round cuba. on the way, he said, he had made occasional landings, and had found the whole island to be inhabited by a kindly and intelligent people, well disposed toward spain. immediately following this expedition, various efforts were made to colonize cuba, and to enter into relations with the natives. conspicuous among these efforts was one which had for its object the introduction of christianity into cuba, and of which an interesting account is given by martin ferdinand de enciso in his "suma de geografia," the first book ever published about america. enciso, it will be remembered, was a partner of alonzo de ojeda, that brilliant and gallant cavalier of spain who in was governor of nueva andalusia, a region which we now know as the caribbean coast of colombia. it was enciso who in went to uraba to the relief of francisco pizarro, who had been in command there but who had become discouraged, had suffered heavy losses from attacks by the natives, and who was about to abandon the place. it was on one of enciso's ships, too, that his friend vasco nuñez de balboa, concealed in a cask to avoid his creditors, escaped from hispaniola and was conveyed to darien, thus getting his opportunity to cross the isthmus and to discover the pacific ocean. enciso relates that a spanish vessel, cruising off the southern coast of cuba, somewhere near cape de la cruz, put ashore a young mariner who had fallen ill, so that he might have a better chance to recover from his illness than he would on shipboard. the identity of this young man is not assured, though it has been strongly suggested that he was no other than ojeda himself. however that may be, he found himself in his convalescence the guest of a native chieftain or cacique who professed christianity. the chief had presumably been visited by ocampo's expedition. he had been much impressed by the prowess and culture of the spaniards, and had desired to become affiliated with the religion which they professed and to which he attributed their superiority to the natives of cuba. hearing from them that they had been sent thither by the comendador ovando--the governor of hispaniola was a comendador of the order of knights of alcantara--he chose that title for his own baptismal name, and was thenceforth known as the cacique comendador. pleased to find a christian chief, and grateful for his own restoration to health, ojeda--if it was indeed he--erected in comendador's house an altar and placed thereon an image of the holy virgin, and instructed the people to bow before it every evening and to repeat the "ave, maria!" and "salve, regina!" this was pleasing to comendador, but offensive to the neighboring caciques, who worshipped an idol which they called cemi. in consequence a primitive religious war arose among the natives, in which, according to enciso, comendador and his followers were pretty uniformly successful. his victories were attributed to the intervention and aid of "a beautiful woman, clad in white, and carrying a wand." finally a test was agreed upon which reminds us of elijah's battle of the gods on the scathed crest of mount carmel. a representative warrior of each party was to be bound securely, hand and foot, and be placed in an open field for the night, and if one of them was set free from his bonds, that would be proof of the superiority of his god. "the god who looses his servant's bonds, let him be the lord!" this was done, and guards of both parties were placed about the field, to make sure that nobody should meddle with the experiment. at midnight, says enciso, cemi came to unbind his follower. but before he could reach him or touch his bonds, the holy virgin appeared, clad in white and bearing a wand. at her approach, cemi incontinently fled. at a touch of her wand the bonds fell from the limbs of the christian champion, and were added to those already on the limbs of the other man. despite the presence of the guards, the caciques insisted that there had been trickery, and demanded another trial, to which comendador, confident in his faith, agreed. the result was the same as before. still they were unconvinced, and demanded a third trial, at which they themselves would be present as watchers and guards. this also was granted, and once more the same miracle was wrought. at that the caciques all confessed their defeat and the defeat of cemi, and declared that the virgin was worthy to be worshipped. this auspicious implanting of christianity and of good relations between the natives and the spaniards did not, unfortunately, endure. it was interfered with by the too common cause of trouble in those days, the _auri sacra fames_, the accursed lust for gold. we have seen that king ferdinand was unwilling, in his niggardliness, for money to be spent from his treasury for the exploration of cuba. but after that work had been done at ovando's personal cost, ferdinand desired to reap the gains, if any there were. the suggestion was revived that cuba might be rich in gold. the king suspected that ovando and others were deceiving him concerning the island, and were secretly planning to secure its riches for themselves. these suspicions were materially increased by the course of diego columbus which, while probably quite honest, was lacking in tact and worldly wisdom. for when diego succeeded ovando as governor-general or viceroy of the indies, at hispaniola, one of his first acts was to commission his uncle, bartholomew columbus, to lead an expedition for the exploration and settlement of cuba. that was a legitimate and indeed praiseworthy enterprise. but unfortunately diego did not secure in advance the king's authority for it, nor did he acquaint the king with his intentions. his enemies, however, of whom he had many, were quick to report the matter to the king, putting it in the light most unfavorable to both diego and bartholomew; and the result was that ferdinand at once recalled bartholomew columbus to spain, and compelled diego to select another head for the expedition. in , then, the king directed diego columbus to send forth his proposed expedition to cuba, to make a careful examination of the island, to ascertain the character of its resources, and above all to determine whether it contained gold. he took pains, moreover, to impress upon diego and through him the actual members of the expedition, the eminent desirability of cultivating the most friendly and confidential relations with the natives, both as a matter of policy and for the sake of humanity and religion. the result was the sending, early in , from hispaniola, of an expedition in which were interested if not actually implicated a number of the most conspicuous men in the indies, and which marked the actual and permanent opening of cuba to spanish settlement and civilization. diego columbus was the son and heir of the great discoverer, who under the terms of the royal compact of was to inherit all his father's powers and dignities as admiral and viceroy of the western hemisphere. for a time ferdinand on various pretexts refused to fulfil that compact and to recognize his rights, but appointed ovando to rule in hispaniola in his stead. but after diego's marriage to doña maria de toledo, the daughter of the grand commander of leon and the niece of the king's favorite councillor and friend, the duke of alba, a combination of personal, social and political influence prevailed for the vindication of his claims, and he was invested with supreme authority in place of ovando, who was provided for elsewhere. diego seems to have been a man of integrity and engaging character, though perhaps more idealistic than practical, and not always a match in policy for the scheming politicians by whom he was surrounded. bartholomew columbus was the brother of christopher, was intimately associated with him in his great enterprises, and was named by him adelantado, or lieutenant governor, of the indies. he too was a man of character and fine parts, bold and enterprising, and possessed of more practical worldly wisdom than either his brother or his nephew. these two stood alone, against a numerous company of personal and political enemies, both in hispaniola and in spain. indeed, as bartholomew was recalled to spain and was kept there for some time, diego was left solitary to contend with or to yield to his foes. it was therefore probably through necessity that he organized the cuban expedition largely with men hostile to him. miguel pasamonte was his chief foe. he had been the secretary of queen isabella, and had filled important ambassadorships, but was now the royal treasurer in hispaniola. he had been one of the bitterest enemies of christopher columbus, and had transferred a full measure of hostility to diego; and it was he who reported to the king in its most unfavorable light diego's plans for sending bartholomew columbus to cuba. in his hostility to both christopher and diego columbus he was greatly aided and abetted by juan rodriguez de fonseca, bishop of seville; who had violently quarrelled with christopher columbus over the fitting out of his second voyage and who also had transferred his hatred to the admiral's son. [illustration: diego velasquez] diego velasquez was another of the faction hostile to the columbuses, though at first he had been a friend and companion of the admiral. it is probable that he had no personal enmity toward diego columbus, but joined himself to the other faction through motives not unconnected with personal pecuniary profit. he had gone from spain to hispaniola with christopher columbus on his second voyage, and had ever since been one of the most efficient administrators in that island and indeed in all the indies. for a time he was a military leader in campaigns against hostile natives, and afterward he became lieutenant governor of the island. he was a man of high ability, of singularly handsome person, of engaging manners, of much popularity, and of abundant force of character for successful leadership and command of men. he was, however, not always scrupulous in his dealings, and it was not to his moral credit that he became the richest man in all the indies. he was a close friend and partisan of pasamonte, and associated with him in the same alliance were the royal secretary in hispaniola, conchillos, and also the royal accountant, christopher de cuellar, who was both the cousin and father-in-law of velasquez. diego columbus, then, either through policy or through compulsion, appointed velasquez to be his lieutenant in cuba, and commissioned him to organize and personally to lead the intended expedition to that island. he also promised that the king would refund whatever private expenditures velasquez and his companions should make on account of it; a promise which was authorized by the king, but not fulfilled save in the indirect way of empowering the members of the expedition to recoup themselves at the expense of the people of the island; an arrangement decidedly at variance with ferdinand's former solicitude for good treatment for the natives. further than that, diego had little or nothing to do with cuba, and in a short time velasquez was known not as lieutenant but as governor, as though he were entirely independent of the viceroy in hispaniola. [illustration: baracoa first capital of cuba] early in velasquez assembled a flotilla of three or four vessels on the northwest coast of hispaniola, at or near the place where columbus had landed when he discovered that island and first visited it from cuba. in the adjacent region he recruited a company of about three hundred men, and with that force set out for the conquest and colonization of cuba. the precise date of his expedition is not to be ascertained, but it was probably in february or at latest march of that year. the place of his landing in cuba, however, is known. it was at baracoa, where also columbus had landed before him. following the practice of columbus and the other explorers he promptly gave the place a new name of his own selection, calling it the city of our lady of the assumption. there he established his seat of government and base of further operations, giving to the place in both civil and ecclesiastical affairs the technical rank and dignity of a city. but, as also frequently happened, the new name was unable to supplant the old one in popular usage; and when, in , the insular capital was transferred to santiago de cuba, and in the cathedral of the diocese was similarly transferred, the new name was permitted to lapse, and the place became again universally known as baracoa. despite its vicissitudes of fortune, therefore, and its loss of its former high estate, baracoa is entitled to the triple distinction of having been the site of the first permanent european settlement in cuba, of the first civilized government, and of the first cathedral church. at baracoa, immediately upon his arrival, velasquez built a fort, the exact site of which is now matter of conjecture, and various other edifices. these were all constructed of wood, probably of bamboo and thatch, and no trace of them remains to-day. search was also promptly made for gold, and some seems to have been found in the beds of streams, though in no large quantities, and the attempt to operate mines was soon abandoned. attention was then turned to further explorations and conquests, and to the quest for gold in other parts of the island. still more unfortunate than the failure to find much gold, and largely because of that fruitless quest, was the rise of bitter hostilities between the spaniards and the natives. this was also a sequel to and in part a consequence of the spanish administration in hispaniola and particularly of the part which velasquez had played therein. shortly before coming to cuba, velasquez had waged several strenuous and probably somewhat ruthless campaigns against the natives of hispaniola, chiefly in that part of the island which lay nearest to cuba and in which he recruited his cuban expedition. his chief opponent there was a native chief named hatuey, who, finding himself unable to cope with the spaniards, fled to cuba with many of his followers and settled in the country near baracoa. these refugees were of course quick to report to the natives of cuba the cause of their migration, and to portray the conduct and character of the spaniards, and of velasquez personally, in the most unfavorable light. the natural result was to predispose the cuban natives to regard the spaniards with distrust and aversion. and when velasquez himself presently appeared among the very people who had been thus prejudiced against him, trouble inevitably arose. the leader in the trouble was hatuey, who had a large following both of his own tribe from hispaniola and also of cubans. he had maintained a system of spying and communication through which he kept himself perfectly informed of the doings of velasquez, whom he considered his chief foe, not only politically but personally, and when he learned that he was coming to cuba he busied himself with preparations to resist him. he was foremost in spreading among the cuban natives all manner of evil reports concerning the spaniards, all of which, whether true or false, found ready credence. thus on one occasion, as related by herrera, he gathered many of the natives together with a promise to reveal to them the god of the spaniards, whom they worshipped and to whom they made human sacrifices of indians' lives. when they were assembled and their anticipation was whetted, he placed before them a small basket filled with gold. "that," said he, "is the god which the spaniards worship, and in quest of which they are following us hither. let us, therefore, ourselves pay this god reverence and implore him to bid his spanish worshippers not to harm us when they come hither!" the natives performed a religious dance and other rites about the gold, until they were exhausted, and then hatuey further counselled them to cast the gold into the river, where the spaniards could not find it; since if they found it they would continue their search for more, even to cutting out the hearts of the people in quest of it. whether true or fabricated, the story indicates the attitude of hatuey toward the spaniards and explains the intensity of the bitterness which prevailed between him and velasquez. of course, when the spaniards arrived and immediately began to hunt for gold, hatuey's words about their god seemed to be confirmed. war began, which soon resulted in the defeat and capture of hatuey, who was put to death. tradition has it that he was burned at the stake, as was the common custom in those times, and that just before the fire was lighted he was invited to accept christianity and be baptized, but refused on the ground that he did not want to meet any spaniards in the other world. he was succeeded in command of the hostile natives by caguax, who had been his comrade in hispaniola and who had come to cuba with him; and the hostilities were continued with the usual result of conflicts between a higher and a lower civilization. in a short time the province of maysi was conquered and partly pacified, and that of bayamo was invaded. [illustration: panfilo de narvaez] at this time and in these operations there appeared in cuba two more men of commanding importance in the early history of the island, who were sent thither from hispaniola to assist velasquez soon after the defeat and death of hatuey. one of these was panfilo de narvaez, a soldier and the leader of a company of thirty expert crossbow-men who had been serving in jamaica but were no longer needed by the governor of that island, esquivel. narvaez was a native of valladolid, spain, near which city velasquez also had been born. it is possible, indeed, that the two men were related, since there was a marked physical resemblance between them; both being tall, handsome, and of a pronounced blond complexion. at any rate, they had long been friends, and velasquez was glad to make narvaez his chief lieutenant and right-hand man. narvaez appears to have been a man of high intelligence, honorable character, and much personal charm. he was, however, too much inclined toward fighting, was sometimes reckless in his leadership, and was no more scrupulous in his conduct toward the natives than were many other conquerors of various lands in those days of adventure and violence. at the head of a force of more than a hundred and fifty men, including a score of horsemen, he led the way in the conquest, first of bayamo and finally of all the rest of the island. in his campaign he enjoyed immense advantage from the awe and terror which were caused among the natives by the appearance of the horses, which were the first ever seen in cuba. [illustration: bartholomew de las casas] the other and more famous of these two men was bartholomew de las casas, known to the world as the "protector of the indians" and as the "apostle to the indies." as a youth he had accompanied his father on columbus's third voyage to america, and he had come to the antilles a second time and permanently with ovando, the governor of hispaniola, in . in he was ordained to be a priest, and it was in that clerical capacity that he was sent over to cuba to assist velasquez in the conquest, pacification and settlement of the island. he appears at first to have had no important religious scruples against oppression of the natives, but joined with velasquez and narvaez in their sometimes ruthless policy. when the island was divided among the conquerors under the system of repartimientos, or allotments of natives as practical slaves of the spaniards, he received and accepted without demur his encomienda or commandery, and held it for some time in partnership with his friend pedro de renteria. but a little later, realizing the injustice and cruelties which the natives suffered under this system, he became, as he himself described it, "converted," and thereafter was an earnest, zealous and almost fanatical champion of their rights. he visited spain several times, to secure commissions of inquiry and other measures for their relief. also, thinking thus to redeem them from enforced servitude, he secured royal sanction for the introduction of negro slavery and the importation of negro slaves into cuba; a policy which he afterward deeply regretted. after a brief campaign in bayamo, which was not particularly successful, beyond the killing of caguax and the final dispersion of the force which hatuey had organized, narvaez formed an expedition of perhaps five hundred men for more extended enterprises, in which he had as his principal companions las casas and a young nephew of velasquez, juan de grijalva. the precise route of this expedition cannot now be stated. it certainly, however, traversed the bayamo region, and went as far west as camaguey. it also visited the neighborhood of cape cruz and there passed through the town of cueyba, as las casas called it, where, as hitherto related, a spanish mariner, presumably ojeda, had landed and had established a christian shrine with a statue of the holy virgin. here and at other places amicable relations were maintained between the spaniards and the natives. unhappily that was not always the rule. at the large town of caonao, probably near manzanillo, a number of spanish soldiers, as if suddenly stricken with madness, began a massacre of the natives, killed a great number, and drove the rest into flight. narvaez does not seem to have ordered nor to have taken part in the slaughter, but neither did he exert himself to prevent it or to stop it. whereupon las casas, righteously wrathful, bade him to go to the devil, and thereafter devoted himself to ministering to the sufferers and to reassuring the survivors. from caonao the expedition moved westward, through the southern part of the province of camaguey, where the natives were so frightened that they fled to the little islands off the coast which columbus had named the queen's gardens. thence it went across the island to the north coast, and probably in the region of sagua la grande, in santa clara province, found some small deposits of gold. after stopping there for some time, it continued its progress into havana province, where more gold was found and where, unhappily, serious trouble with the natives was renewed. on the way across the island narvaez had heard of three spaniards, a man and two women, who had been shipwrecked on the coast and were living with the indians somewhere in the west. he sent word of this report back to velasquez, who returned him orders to search for the castaways even in preference to gold, and who also dispatched a ship along the north coast to meet narvaez and his party in the region to which they were going. in santa clara the two women were found, unharmed and well, and they presently married members of the expedition. finally, in havana the man also was found. he too was unharmed and well, though he had become in speech and habits more like an indian than a spaniard. according to his story, he and the two women were the sole survivors of a company of twenty-six. they had fled from ojeda's ill-starred settlement at uraba, on the gulf of darien, and were trying to make their way back to hispaniola, but had been driven out of their course around the north coast of cuba. not far from cape san antonio they had been shipwrecked and thence had made their way by land, along the north coast. most of them had been killed by natives while trying to cross an arm of the sea, which has been assumed to have been the bay of matanzas, which was so named on that account. on the havana coast the expedition met the vessel which velasquez had sent. but leaving it in port there the expedition went across the island again to xagua, or cienfuegos, there to meet velasquez himself and another expedition which he was leading, and there to spend with him the christmas season of . at the beginning of narvaez and a hundred men returned to havana and thence marched westward into pinar del rio, the vessel keeping in touch with them along the coast. how far they went in that province is not now certainly known. some accounts have it that they stopped at bahia honda and there took ship back for baracoa, while others insist that they got as far as nombre de dios. all that is certain is that narvaez and his comrades visited on this expedition all parts of the island, and thus completed the nominal exploration and occupation of cuba in the early part of . chapter vi velasquez was for a number of years the dominant figure in cuban history, and he much more than any other man is to be credited with the settlement of the island and its social, political and economical organization. he was married at baracoa in the early part of to donna maria de cuellar, daughter of christopher de cuellar, the royal treasurer in the island, but within a week was left a widower. to find solace for his grief in action, he threw himself with extraordinary energy into the work of exploring, pacifying and colonizing the island. after founding the town of san salvador de bayamo he went westward, as already stated, to meet narvaez and to spend christmas at xagua or cienfuegos. less than a month later he founded la villa de trinidad, and later in the year la villa de sancti spiritus and, finally, santiago de cuba. at all of these places excepting the last named gold was found, though not in any large quantities. he was thus encouraged to continue his search for that precious metal, while at the same time he was admonished not to look too much to it for the prosperity of the island, but to pay attention to the development of its other resources, and particularly its obvious agricultural potentialities. accordingly in the spring of he sent a vessel to hispaniola for horses and cattle with which to stock cuba, and for supplies of grain and other seeds, and agricultural implements. in the cargo which it brought back to him lay the germ of the subsequent agricultural greatness of cuba. at about the same time, also, he founded cuban commerce by the establishment of regular communication between the island and jamaica, darien and other spanish settlements at the south. in this latter enterprise the king was especially interested, and his directions to velasquez were that he should develop it to the largest possible extent. he did not expect cuba ever to rival darien and other regions in mineral wealth, but that island could, he thought, surpass them in agriculture, and thus could serve as a source of supply to them, and as a base of operations. it was, indeed, in pursuance of this policy of commerce with the countries at the south and west of the caribbean that santiago de cuba was founded as the seventh of the seven cities among which the island was partitioned, and that it was made the insular capital. the site was, as already stated, the only one at which gold was not found. it was selected partly because of the secure and commodious harbor, one of the finest anywhere on the shores of the caribbean, and partly because its situation on the south coast made it particularly accessible to and from jamaica, darien and the other regions in which the spanish crown was interested. as soon as it was founded, the seat of civil, military and ecclesiastical authority was transferred thither from baracoa, and santiago de cuba became the second capital of the island. meantime narvaez, at the north, had founded havana, which was destined to be the third and final capital. each city or town was made, however, a capital unto itself. the principle of local autonomy or home rule had long been cherished by the spanish people in the iberian kingdom, and it was transplanted by them in an increased degree to their antillean colonies. in accord with that principle, these first seven cities were planned and arranged with a view to civic self-sufficiency. the plan was uniform. each place had its central park or plaza, upon which fronted the town hall, the parish church and the residence of the governor or the alcalde. the plan of government was also uniform. in each place velasquez appointed an alcalde, who was not a mayor but a judge of first instance; a deputy alcalde, and three regidores or councillors; the alcalde and the regidores sitting together forming the town council. there were also a procurador, or public prosecutor; an alguacil, or sheriff; and one or more escribanos, or notaries public. there was also at this time established throughout the island a social and economic system borrowed from hispaniola, where it had not been in operation long enough for its evil effects to be demonstrated. its intention was unquestionably benevolent, and, given a sufficiently altruistic quality of human nature, its results might have been good. with human nature what it was, it became almost unrelievedly evil. this was known as the system of repartimiento, or encomienda. first of all, the whole territory of the island was partitioned among the seven cities. then in each there were appointed persons whom we might describe as land-holders and slave-holders. the former, known as vecinos, were the representatives of the king in ownership of the land, all of which was regarded as the property of the crown, to be apportioned for working to suitable loyal subjects. the latter were called encomenderos, and to them were apportioned the native population, in tutelage and servitude. now the fundamental evil of the system lay in the appropriation of the land. it was all taken for the crown, and the natives who had been occupying it were _ipso facto_ transformed into squatters, or trespassers. but as the king claimed the whole area of the island, there was no other land for them to occupy; wherefore they must remain on the king's land. but if they did that, they must become his serfs. they were therefore apportioned among the land-holders; to remain in their homes and to be educated, fed and clothed and generally cared for by the latter; and in return to do a certain amount of useful work. thus they would become civilized and christianized, and perhaps themselves fitted to become land-holders. it was an excellent plan, in theory; and it seemed the more likely to succeed because the spanish colonists manifested no such caste prejudice against the natives as those of some other lands did. thus it was an unusual thing for a french settler in north america, and a still more unusual thing for a british settler, to marry an indian woman, and such unions, when they did occur, were generally regarded as debasing. but there was no such feeling among the spanish, and intermarriages between the races, of an entirely legal and honorable character, were not uncommon and were not regarded with disfavor. nevertheless, the repartimiento system soon lapsed into utter evil, as such a relationship between a superior and an inferior race seems certain to do. in brief, it became slavery, pure and simple. the benevolent and statesmanlike spirit of velasquez was shown, in contrast to that of most other conquistadors of that time, in the circumstance that he ordered the natives to be thus impressed into work for a period of only a single month, to be paid for their labor at a prescribed rate, and to be engaged as largely as possible in agricultural pursuits. he did not prohibit the employment of them at gold mining, but he strove earnestly to extend agricultural enterprise. this was partly, no doubt, in pursuance of the king's order, that he should make cuba a source of food supplies for the supposedly less favored regions at darien and elsewhere, but was partly, too, because velasquez recognized the agricultural possibilities of cuba and was determined to make it self-supporting. he exercised this authority, not merely as governor general of the island, but also as repartidor, or partitioner of the natives, to which office he was expressly appointed by the king, with responsibility to nobody but the king himself. he apportioned the natives in lots of from not fewer than forty to not more than three hundred, according to the land held by the vecino, and ordered that they be well treated, and of course be not sold nor transferred from one master to another. there was, unfortunately, another class of native servitors, to wit, those taken as captives in battle in the occasional hostilities between the two races. these were by royal decree made outright and life-long slaves, subject to be bought and sold and even branded with their owners' names, like cattle. the number of these being few after the collapse of hatuey's short-lived resistance, the practice arose of adding to their number natives from mexico, darien and elsewhere, who were seized and brought to cuba as slaves. all this was declared to be illegal and was ordered abolished by a royal decree which was promulgated in cuba in november, . but long before that time the evil system had become widespread, and had involved in absolute slavery encomendado natives as well as the captives. the bad results of the system were reflected upon the masters if possible more than upon the slaves, and were felt for many years after the native population had so nearly vanished as to be no longer a factor in cuban affairs worthy of consideration. [illustration: ponce de leon] following the establishment of these political and industrial systems, cuban colonization made extraordinarily rapid progress. the island which for years had been neglected and all but ignored became the chief centre of antillean interest. it drew from hispaniola, darien and other lands, both insular and continental, many of their best colonists, including some who afterward became famous for their achievements elsewhere. thus, hernando cortez was alcalde of santiago de cuba. bernal diaz, whose honest soul revolted against the infamies of pedrarias davila at darien, settled for a time at sancti spiritus before following cortez to mexico. vasco de figueroa was a great plantation owner at camaguey. las casas was at trinidad until he returned to spain to begin his propaganda for the welfare of the indians. ponce de leon also spent some time in cuba, and so did la salle. velasquez himself was of course settled at santiago de cuba, with christopher de cuellar, the royal treasurer, and hurtado de isunsolo and amador de lares, fiscal agents of the king. at santiago was established the royal assay office and refining works for the output of the gold mines of the island. in brief, the island prospered greatly in all respects. the mines were rich, the plantations fertile and productive, and live stock greatly thrived. the island, according to oviedo, became "much populated with both christians and indians." it appears to have been at the instance of velasquez that its name was changed in from juana to fernandina, in honor of the king; an incident which added to the high regard which that monarch cherished for velasquez, of whom he said that "no man could more wisely administer the affairs of the island." this tribute was probably deserved. but it cannot be said that velasquez served his king for naught, or that he promoted the interests of the island to the neglect of his own, since he himself so greatly prospered that he became the richest man in all cuba and probably in all the antilles, and was so secure in his place that he could feel quite independent of even the admiral himself, diego columbus, at hispaniola. a noteworthy tribute to velasquez was paid, also, in a series of cedulas issued by the king. the first, dated december , , thanked him for his pacification of cuba and his tactful and humane treatment of the natives. another, on april , , was much to the same effect, adding the exhortation: "because i much desire that all diligence possible be used to convert the natives of the island, i direct that you undertake this with all means possible. in nothing can you do me greater service." five days later a third cedula formally appointed velasquez governor of the town and fortress of baracoa, with a salary of , maravedis a year. after the complete organization of the insular government and industrial system, as already described, the king in a cedula of february , , commended all that had been done, adding: "the chief recommendation i would make to you is that you have all possible care for the conversion and good treatment of the indians of the island, and that you endeavor in every way to have them taught and indoctrinated in our holy catholic faith and to have them remain in it; so that we may be without burden on our conscience regarding them and so that you may free yourself of all the obligation which you have assumed for their welfare." it was impossible that velasquez should, however, escape the attacks of envy and malice. suggestions were made to the king that he was growing too rich, and that he was manipulating the affairs of the island in his own interest rather than in the interest of the royal treasury. but these were without effect, save to confirm velasquez in royal confidence and favor. to the suggestion that a residencia or investigation be made of the administration of velasquez and his lieutenants, the king returned an emphatic negative. in a cedula of july , , he expressly ordered that no residencia be taken, since he was entirely satisfied with the administration of the island. this was of material advantage to velasquez, and was also a most unusual honor; the more unusual and noteworthy when we remember that ferdinand had developed a particularly selfish and suspicious disposition and was little inclined to give full confidence to any man. nor was the royal favor short lived or confined to the reign of ferdinand. in november, , another royal decree from ferdinand's successor, charles i, appointed velasquez adelantado of all lands which he personally or through his agents might discover, and endowed him with one-fifteenth part of all the revenues which might be obtained from them. at this time velasquez was already busy with enterprises of exploration, and his efforts were redoubled under this incentive. but in so doing he suffered the same fate that he himself had inflicted upon diego columbus. for he sent hernando cortez, who had been alcalde of santiago de cuba, upon the expedition which resulted in the conquest of mexico; upon achieving which transcendent exploit, cortez repudiated him and his authority, much as velasquez had repudiated the authority of columbus in hispaniola. the year marked a turning-point in the early history of cuba. in that year las casas began his great crusade in behalf of the natives. at first, as we have seen, he accepted and approved the repartimiento system, and himself with his partner and close friend pedro de renteria took several hundred indians as his wards and servants on the land which had been allotted to him at trinidad. but when he became "converted," as he himself described it, he was convinced that the system, which had degenerated into little else than slavery, was wholly evil and could be nothing else, putting all who practised it in imminent danger of hell fire. to this conviction he was brought through consideration of what he had heard dominican friars preach in hispaniola. at this time his partner, renteria, was absent, in jamaica, and las casas was ignorant of his views on the subject. moreover, he realized that the natives whom he had in his possession belonged to renteria as much as to him, and he could not properly do anything which would be injurious to the interests of his partner. accordingly he went to velasquez and told him that his conscience would no longer permit him to hold slaves, and he must therefore release them; but he wished the matter held in abeyance and confidence until the return of renteria, in order that the latter might protect his own interests as he saw fit. in addition, he passionately adjured velasquez, for the sake of his own soul, to free all the natives and to abolish the repartimiento system. velasquez did not follow this advice, but he continued to hold las casas in the highest esteem and to show him all possible favors. las casas then at once began publicly preaching against the sin of slavery, and proclaiming the right of the natives to equal freedom with the spaniards; a course which gave great offense to many in the island but in which velasquez protected him. then he determined to hasten at once to spain and to lay the matter before the king, who in his various cedulas and messages to velasquez had expressed so much concern for the welfare of the indians. he accordingly wrote to renteria, in jamaica, that he was called to spain on imperatively urgent business, and that unless he, renteria, could return to cuba at once, he would have to go without seeing him first, which he would regret to do. upon receiving this letter, renteria immediately hastened back to cuba; and then was disclosed one of the most extraordinary coincidences in history. the meeting of the two friends was in the presence of velasquez and others, and nothing was said by las casas concerning his plans, nor did renteria say anything about his own affairs. but as soon as they were alone together, renteria announced that he was planning himself to go to spain, and that he would therefore accompany las casas. he then explained that while in jamaica he had gone for a time into "retreat" at a franciscan monastery, and while thus engaged in pious meditation had become convinced that the indians of cuba were being very badly treated, and had resolved to go to spain and there to plead their cause before the king, especially asking for the foundation of schools and colleges in which the indian youth could be educated. the astonishment and delight of las casas at hearing this was equalled only by the similar feelings of renteria when in turn las casas told him the purpose of his proposed mission to spain. hundreds of miles apart, and entirely unknown to each other, the two friends at precisely the same time had been cherishing the same noble purposes. it was quickly agreed between them that las casas alone should undertake the mission, that their native wards should be surrendered at once to velasquez, and that their land and other property should be sold, if necessary, to provide las casas with the money needed for his journey. in his departure from cuba and his journey to spain, las casas was also greatly assisted by pedro de cordova, the head of the dominican order in hispaniola. simultaneously with the departure of las casas another and very different mission was dispatched to the same goal. this was one consisting of narvaez and antonio velasquez--not the governor, diego velasquez--bearing a petition to the king to the effect that the repartimiento system should be transformed into one of absolute and perpetual slavery; so that the land-owners might hold their indians permanently, and bequeath them to their heirs like any other property. that this was sent simultaneously with las casas's going is not to be regarded as a coincidence, however. it is altogether probable that the action was inspired by knowledge of the purpose of las casas and by a determination to forestall him or to defeat him. how ferdinand would have decided between the two, whether the impassioned eloquence of las casas or the gold which narvaez and antonio velasquez bore with their petition, would have been the more potent, must ever remain matter of uncertainty; for he was never called upon to make the decision. before the issue could be put to him, on january , , he died. in the interregnum, before the arrival of the new king, charles i, from flanders, cardinal ximenes was regent, and it was to him that las casas addressed himself; after he had first been scornfully received and his mission ridiculed by bishop fonseca, of burgos. the great cardinal had long been an advocate of humane treatment of the indians, and was quite ready to listen to las casas, calling into council for the purpose several other prelates and statesmen. early in the hearings, in order to make sure of his ground, ximenes bade the clerk to read the full text of the laws relating to the indians, and that functionary, being a partisan of the advocates of slavery, purposely misread one important clause. las casas cried out, "that is not the law!" ximenes bade the clerk to read it again. he did so, with the same perversion; and again las casas exclaimed, "the law says no such thing!" annoyed, ximenes rebuked las casas and threatened him with a penalty if he interrupted again. "your lordship is welcome to send my head to the block," retorted the undaunted las casas, "if what the clerk has read is in the law!" other members of the council thereupon snatched the laws from the clerk's hand, and found that las casas was right, whereupon the clerk wished that he had never been born, while las casas, as he himself modestly records, "lost nothing of the regard which the cardinal had for him or of the credit which he gave to him." the result of the conferences was that ximenes authorized las casas, palacios rubios and antonio montesino to prepare the draft of a plan for emancipating the indians and providing for their just government and education. when the plan was completed and adopted there was some question as to whom it should be entrusted for execution. ximenes invited las casas to nominate a commission, but the latter declined because his long absence from spain had left him unfamiliar with men there and their qualifications. the cardinal therefore decided to select a commission from among the monks of the order of st. jerome. that order was selected because, while the dominicans and franciscans were already settled in hispaniola and jamaica and had committed themselves to a certain policy toward the indian question, the jeronimites had not yet gone thither and were quite without bias or predisposition. this was on july , . the following sunday the cardinal and other members of the council, and also las casas, went to the jeronimite monastery, near madrid, to attend mass and to make a selection of three commissioners or judges from among the twelve who had been nominated by the head of the order. there las casas was received with much distinction by the monks and by the cardinal, to the chagrin of his enemy the bishop of burgos, who was present in the congregation. after some consideration, ximenes then announced that las casas should be provided with money and letters of credit to the general of the order at seville, and should himself go thither and select the three commissioners. this was immediately done, and the result was the selection of luis de figueroa, prior of la mejorada; alonzo de santo domingo, prior of ortega; and bernardino manzanedo. these three were thereupon commissioned by ximenes to proceed to hispaniola, to take away all the indians held by members of the council, judges and other officers, and hold a court of impeachment upon all colonial officers, who were charged as having "lived, like moors, without a king." they were then to consult with both the colonists and the chief men among the indians as to the condition of the indians and the ways and means of bettering it; so that the indians, who had become christians, should be set free and enabled to govern themselves. they were to assure the indians it was the will of the cardinal that they should be treated as free men and christians. that ximenes was sincere in giving these orders there can be no question. on more than one occasion he vehemently declared that the indians were as a matter of right and should and must be as a matter of fact free men. but all this was too late to save the indians. immediately upon las casas's departure from cuba, treatment of the indians there and elsewhere in the indies became more harsh and oppressive, actually tending toward extinction of the race. moreover, when the bearers of the petition of narvaez and antonio velasquez finally got a hearing before ximenes, they were referred to the three commissioners, who were about to leave spain for hispaniola. they therefore went to see them, and succeeded, apparently, to some degree in alienating them from las casas and his colleagues and in prejudicing them against the indians; to such an extent that before their departure for hispaniola las casas had begun to doubt whether much real good would come from their mission. he and the three commissioners travelled to hispaniola on separate ships, and on their arrival in that island the three were more ready to confer with others, even with his opponents, than with him. it is true that cardinal ximenes gave detailed and generally admirable directions to the jeronimite fathers as to the course which they were to pursue; not only toward the natives of cuba but also toward those of the other islands and the continent. these provided that the natives were to be well treated. they were to be formed into autonomous communities of their own, under their own chiefs and owning their own land and cattle. they were to be provided with churches, schools and hospitals, and were to be converted to christianity and educated. they were, however, to be required to work for a part of the time in the gold mines of the spaniards, for which service they would be paid a percentage of the gold obtained. in compensation for thus being deprived of what was fast becoming the slave labor of the native islanders, the spanish settlers of cuba were permitted each to hold as outright slaves four or five caribs from other islands, negroes from africa, or, in time, red indians from the north american continent. the net result was that for a time the cuban natives were fairly well treated, though their fate was simply postponed for a few years. at the same time there was generally established in cuba, as in most other lands of the world at that time, the hateful institution of human slavery. chapter vii gold mining in cuba appears for some time to have been profitable. there was not the vast opulence of the precious metal which a little later was discovered in peru and elsewhere on the south american continent, but there was enough greatly to encourage an influx of colonists from spain and also from the other antilles. hispaniola itself was for a time almost depopulated. nor did this multitude of settlers consist exclusively of gold-seekers. there were also many agriculturists, artificers and tradesmen, who perceived that their activities would be needed to complement the gold-mining industry. from the same cause arose at this time an important development of the political organization of the island. nominally, all the provincial capitals were of equal dignity. but the smelting works and assay office were at santiago, and thither, therefore, all gold miners had to repair at intervals, to have their nuggets, dust and ore refined and its value determined. they came in the spring, just before the beginning of the rainy season. naturally their coming thither attracted at the same time tradesmen from all parts of the island, and santiago thus became the business and social metropolis. moreover, each of the other provincial capitals deemed it profitable to send to santiago at that time an official representative of its local government. these procuradors, as they were called, came together at santiago to exchange experiences and advice and to confer for the general welfare of their respective communities. thus early in cuban history were the rudiments of a representative insular legislature established; through the influence of which the various provinces were drawn together in sympathy and made uniform in administration, and the foundations of cuban nationality were laid. soon, indeed, a regular organization was voluntarily formed, with the alcalde of santiago as presiding officer and with rules of order and a programme of procedure. as a result of each annual session of this primitive insular council an address was prepared for transmission to the king of spain. this consisted of a report upon the condition, progress and prospects of the island, and a request for the supplying of its legislative, administrative or other needs. in the presentation of this address the insular council performed a function practically identical with that of the spanish cortes of that time; a body which had no legislative or other authority, but merely the privilege of protest and petition to the king. usually a procurador representing the council was despatched to spain, to present the address in person to the king; who was received with something of the attention and honor which were paid to important foreign ambassadors. the first such mission from cuba to the king was that which has already been mentioned as consisting of panfilo de narvaez and antonio velasquez. it went to spain in july, , and it bore not alone the address of the council but also the king's share of the gold that had down to that time been mined in the island. the amount of that share was more than , "pieces of eight," which we must believe was most welcome to the money-loving king. as that was supposed to be twenty per cent of the whole output of gold, but was certainly not more than that proportion, it follows that in about three years more than , pesos of gold had been taken. it is not to be wondered at that ferdinand welcomed them cordially, and promptly granted many of their requests; those which required expenditure of cash being paid for out of the insular tribute which the envoys had brought; and that he expressed profound satisfaction, as already mentioned, with the existing government of the island. one of the requests which these envoys bore was not, however, granted. that was, their request that the natives of cuba be given to them in perpetuity as slaves. in consequence of the refusal to grant this, the cuban gold-miners and planters suffered more and more from scarcity of labor, and more and more engaged in slave-hunting elsewhere to supply their needs. this pernicious traffic was resolutely opposed by las casas, but not with entire success. but it brought with it in a measure its own penalty. as a direct result of it there soon occurred an event mischievous to cuba, but of transcendent interest to spain and to all the world. the slave-hunters naturally sought new islands, which had not yet been depopulated, and where the jeronimite fathers had not yet established themselves to interfere with the trade in human flesh. accordingly in a squadron of vessels from cuba visited the guanajes islands, as they had been called by columbus when he discovered them, off the coast of yucatan. there they took many captives, loading all the vessels with them. leaving twenty-five men to guard their landing place on the island, the squadron returned to cuba with the slaves. havana was the port to which they were taken; a port which from that time forward increased rapidly in importance. before they could all be landed, the slaves on one vessel mutinied, overpowered the crew, took possession of the vessel, and sailed back to the yucatan islands. there the vessel was run ashore and wrecked, but the slaves escaped from it and, going ashore, exterminated the spanish garrison which had been left there. a relief expedition was hastily sent from havana, but it arrived too late. it found only the wreck of the ship, and no trace of the spanish garrison. however, it looted the islands and was thus enabled to carry back to cuba some , pesos in gold. this had a revolutionary effect. cubans who were becoming dissatisfied with the scarcity of slave labor and with the waning production of gold in the island, were roused by the promise of greater riches in the lands to the westward, and began to plan further adventures in that direction. in this movement the first important leader was francisco hernandez de cordova, a wealthy land-holder, planter and miner of sancti spiritus. he with more than a hundred others equipped a squadron of three vessels, to sail westward, not, however, for slaves but for gold. one of these vessels appears to have belonged to velasquez, the governor, and in return for the use of it he asked that the expedition should bring him back a cargo of slaves. this cordova indignantly refused, declaring that the slave-trade was offensive to god and man. so, at least, says bernal diaz del castillo; though there are others who say that slave trading was the real object of the expedition. however that may be, the expedition set out from either havana or jaruco, near by, on february , , piloted by antonio alaminos who, as a boy, had sailed with columbus on his fourth voyage on which he skirted the coast of central america. columbus had believed that coast to be the golden chersonesus, a land of fabulous riches, and it was with eagerness that alaminos guided the cuban expedition thither. the mugeres islands were the first land reached after leaving cape san antonio, and two days later, on march , , they landed at punta catoche--a name said to have been given to it by them because of the words "con escotoch" which the natives uttered on greeting them upon their landing, words meaning "welcome to our home." all thoughts of seizing slaves were quickly abandoned when they found the natives a well clad, armed and civilized people, living in large cities, with houses and temples built of fine masonry, comparable with those of the cities of spain. hostilities, however, speedily arose. it does not appear whether the spanish or the natives of yucatan were the aggressors, but the upshot of it was that the spanish were ambuscaded and several of them were badly wounded. the explorers persisted in their enterprise, however, and made their way along the northern coast and thence southward along the shore of the gulf of campeche, as far as champoton. hostilities with the natives increased, and nearly a third of the party perished from wounds or thirst and fever before they got back to havana. moreover, one ship was lost, and the other two were in so bad condition that they with difficulty were beached for repairs at havana, while the survivors marched afoot across the island to santiago, there to report to velasquez the results of their expedition. it is believed that on their way back they were driven by a "norther" far out of their course, and touched the southern extremity of florida, or at least some of its islands. cordova himself had been so badly wounded that he was unable to go to santiago, but made his way to his home at sancti spiritus, where he soon afterward died. immense interest was aroused in cuba by the tales of cordova's men, and by the appearance of the two captive mayas of yucatan whom they brought with them. the reports of large cities, built of stone dressed and carved and laid in mortar,--reports which were, of course, entirely true,--piqued curiosity as to the identity of the people who had built them, and the belief became widespread that they were some of the ten lost tribes of israel, or at least descendants of the jews who were driven into exile after vespasian's conquest of jerusalem. velasquez himself was foremost in interesting himself in the matter, perhaps partly with a desire to recoup the loss of his ship; and he accordingly sent his nephew gonzalez de guzman, of santiago, as a messenger to the king in spain, to tell him of these discoveries and to ask that he, velasquez, be commissioned adelantado of yucatan and all other lands which he might discover. now we have seen how high an opinion king ferdinand had of velasquez; regarding him as the best possible governor of cuba, whose administration should not be subject even to the balancing and auditing of accounts which he elsewhere required. but ferdinand was now dead, and the new king, charles, knew not velasquez, or at least not so well. guzman pleaded the cause as strongly as he could, and so, we may assume, did narvaez, who was still in spain, though antonio velasquez had returned to cuba. the king was not, however, to be so easily persuaded. he was not unfavorable to the ambition of velasquez, but neither was he unhesitatingly favorable to it. accordingly he temporized. instead of giving velasquez the appointment, he sent two agents, procuradors, to hispaniola, to look into the whole matter with plenary authority. these agents, the name of one of whom marks an epoch in cuban and in american history, were diego de orellano and hernando cortez. velasquez was disappointed but not deterred from prosecuting the great enterprise which he had in mind. he would not wait for the report of the procuradors and the action which the king might take upon it, but hastened his preparations for another expedition to yucatan, which he regarded as by far the most important land of all that had thus far been discovered by the spanish in the western hemisphere. the leader of the new venture was to be his nephew, juan de grijalva, who appears not to have been well fitted for the task. grijalva was commissioned in january, , and in the same month set out from santiago de cuba with a flotilla of four vessels. sailing eastward he rounded cape maysi and thence proceeded north and west along the cuban coast to what is now matanzas, where a stop was made for repairs and supplies. thence he went to havana for further supplies and men, and tarried for some time, so that it was not until some time in april--some say april , others a much later date--that he finally set out from cuba. he had four vessels, carrying two hundred and fifty men, among whom were several of whom the world was later to hear much; such as bernal diaz, and pedro de alvarado, who was captain of one of the vessels. the chief pilot was antonio alaminos, whose plan was to follow the same course that cordova's expedition had pursued. upon passing cape san antonio, however, the little squadron fell into the grip of a "norther" which carried it somewhat out of its course, and on may it first sighted land at cozumel island, of which grijalva was thus the discoverer. doubling back, the expedition followed the course of its predecessor around punta catoche and along the yucatan coast to champoton. thence it continued westward, discovering the tabasco and other rivers, and the great bay near vera cruz which still bears the name of alvarado. how far up the mexican coast it sailed is not altogether clear, but it certainly passed cabo rojo, and probably reached tampico and the mouth of the panuco river. thus to two cuban expeditions must be credited the discovery of the vast empire thereafter known as new spain. de solis and pinzon had skirted a part of the coast of yucatan in but had made no landing. indeed, columbus himself on his last voyage had visited some of the coastal islands, but had apparently ignored the proximity of the mainland. cordova was the first to reach the actual coast of yucatan and to explore a portion of that country. grijalva in turn was the first to discover and to land in mexico; of which country he formally claimed possession, in the name of velasquez, for the king of spain, it was he, too, or some member of his expedition, who gave to mexico the name of new spain. in his commission grijalva had been directed to discover and explore new lands, and to take possession of them for the king of spain, but he was forbidden to undertake colonization of them or to make any permanent settlements. to that prohibition must be ascribed the practical failure of his expedition. he appears to have realized the desirability of making permanent settlements, but felt himself restrained by his orders. his men murmured and almost mutinied because they were not permitted to build forts, take land, and establish colonies; but grijalva, though firm to resist them, dared not violate the orders of his uncle. however, at midsummer he sent alvarado back with two ships, carrying the sick and wounded, and also much treasure in gold which had been obtained from the natives in barter. he likewise wrote to velasquez, asking and indeed urging that his commission be so amended as to permit him to make permanent settlements in the lands which he had discovered. it does not appear that velasquez made a favorable response to this request, if indeed he made any at all. he had previously manifested his impatience to learn what grijalva was doing and what he had found, by sending christopher de olid with one vessel to offer him reenforcements and supplies, if needed, and to get a report of his achievements. off the mexican coast, however, that expedition ran into a succession of violent storms which so discouraged and dismayed olid that he abandoned his errand and scuttled incontinently back to cuba without so much as communicating with grijalva. the latter, accordingly, after spending the summer and early fall in mexico, and despairing of receiving the increased authority which he deemed essential to the further success of his expedition, reembarked and returned to cuba, arriving at matanzas early in october. there he found olid, who had reached that port only a few days before, and who had not yet communicated with velasquez the news of the failure of his errand. olid's report to velasquez, which was then promptly dispatched, contained therefore the news of grijalva's return as well as his own. as soon as he received this, velasquez sent word to grijalva to come at once to santiago and report to him in person, but to let his men remain at matanzas, or at havana, since he wanted them to serve in another mexican expedition which he was already fitting out. most of the men were willing to do this, and were accordingly maintained there at the cost of velasquez, or of the spanish crown, until he was ready to use them; though a certain number expressed themselves as having had their fill of exploring and accordingly returned to their homes in various parts of cuba. grijalva repaired, as summoned, to santiago, and there met what we must regard as an unjust and unmerited fate. velasquez expressed entire dissatisfaction with his conduct, particularly in not having planted permanent settlements in mexico; the very thing which grijalva had wanted to do but was forbidden by velasquez himself to do. this extraordinary inconsistency on the part of velasquez can probably be explained on the ground that he himself had been forbidden by the jeronimite fathers to plant such colonies, and did not venture to disobey them, but had hoped that grijalva would disobey them. he further let his unhappy nephew know that, because of his failure to disobey orders, he would have no further use for him. he was sending out another expedition to mexico, to plant permanent colonies there, but it would be under other leadership, and grijalva would have no part in it whatever. as grijalva had already alienated most of his men by refusing to break his orders, he was thus left friendless, and he played no further part in the history either of the cuba which he had loyally served or of the mexico of which he was the discoverer and first explorer. chapter viii [illustration: hernando cortez] the new mexican expedition was entrusted by velasquez to the leadership of the greatest of all the spanish conquistadors, hernando cortez, then alcalde of santiago de cuba. this famous man was then, in , only thirty-three years of age. he had been born in estremadura, had survived a particularly weak and sickly childhood, and had studied law at the university of salamanca. leaving the university, he enlisted in the company of nicolas de ovando, also of estremadura, for an expedition to america. but on the very eve of sailing he went to bid a tender farewell to his inamorata; while scaling the garden wall to reach her window he fell and had part of the wall topple upon him, and in consequence was laid abed for some time, while ovando's expedition sailed without him. recovering from this mishap, he passed a year or two in obscurity and poverty, and then secured passage, in , for hispaniola. his courage and prowess during a storm which threatened to swamp the vessel made him a conspicuous member of the company, and on landing at hispaniola he was quickly taken into the good graces and the employ of both velasquez and ovando. having overcome his early delicacy of constitution, he was now a stalwart, handsome youth, of engaging manners, fine education and much spirit and capacity in martial adventure; in brief, admirably fitted for the great career which he was already unconsciously confronting. we have seen that a mishap in a love affair determined the time and circumstances of his leaving spain for the new world. a sequel to that incident again determined his course. he had enlisted in the expedition of diego de nicuesa bound for darien when from the old injury from his garden wall disaster there developed an abscess in his right knee, which again disabled him for a time and restrained him from going on that voyage. had he gone on it, perhaps he might have become the conqueror of peru, instead of his fellow estremaduran, pizarro, who was a member of nicuesa's company, and the discoverer of the pacific, instead of that other estremaduran, balboa, who went to darien at a little later date. instead, cortez was detailed by diego columbus to go to cuba as a secretary to velasquez. in that capacity he acquitted himself so well that he received an extensive grant of land, together with a large number of natives as slaves, and for a time he settled down as a cuban planter. his adventurous spirit would not permit him permanently to engage in so placid an occupation, however, and he presently became involved in some strenuous transactions which came near to making an end of him. precisely what happened is uncertain. historic accounts differ. according to benito martinez, he made himself the leader of a faction opposed to velasquez, and undertook to go from cuba to hispaniola in an open boat to carry to certain royal judges there complaints and accusations against the governor. as he was setting out on this venture, however, he was betrayed and arrested, was charged with fomenting a revolt against velasquez, and was condemned to be hanged. upon the intercession of friends, however, velasquez commuted the sentence into exile from cuba, and put cortez aboard a vessel bound for hispaniola. soon after the vessel sailed cortez contrived to slip overboard unperceived, caught hold of a floating log, and swam back to cuba. there he found refuge in a church, until once more his passion for the fair sex came near to being his undoing. for one day as he was slipping out of the church to keep a love-tryst, he was seized by an alguazil named juan escudero, and returned to prison. velasquez then again ordered him hanged, but again yielded to intercession, and gave cortez his freedom. incidentally, cortez afterward hanged escudero, in mexico. so runs one version of the story, told by herrera and others. gomara, barcia and others tell quite another. it is to the effect that cortez went to cuba as an accountant for miguel de pasamonte, the royal treasurer, though he also did much business for velasquez and was in charge of the assay office and the hospital at santiago; and that the feud between him and velasquez arose over a love affair. cortez had engaged himself to marry doña catalina suarez, one of the ladies in waiting upon maria de toledo, the consort of the admiral and viceroy, diego columbus, but either delayed to fulfil the engagement or was suspected of an intention to break it by velasquez, who was much interested in the lady's sister. in the course of this feud, cortez was arrested and was found to have on his person papers unfriendly to velasquez. he escaped, and took refuge in a church. but in time he emerged from sanctuary, married doña catalina, and "lived happily with her ever after." he also became reconciled to velasquez, so much that the latter stood as god-father to the first-born child of cortez. this latter story seems the more probable of the two, and more in accord with what we know of the characters and dispositions of both velasquez and cortez. certain it is that after their disagreements and conflicts velasquez took cortez back into full favor, made him alcalde of santiago de cuba, and selected him in preference to his own nephew, grijalva, to be the leader of what he himself considered to be the most important of all his enterprises. in making this choice, which was of epochal importance both to himself and to cuba and the spanish colonial empire, velasquez was doubtless largely influenced by the arguments and persuasions of his own secretary, andres de ducro, and by the royal contador in cuba, amador de lares. these two appear to have worked together, with a mutual understanding, and also with an understanding with cortez; so that we might almost consider the three to have formed a conspiracy to prevail upon the governor. perhaps their chief argument, or temptation, was to promise velasquez the royal appointment as adelantado, not alone over cuba but also over all other lands which he might discover, and it was shrewdly pointed out to him that if haste was made, he might secure that appointment in time to claim the enormously rich land of mexico as part of his domain. all that would be necessary would be for him to get the appointment before the return of grijalva with the official report of his discoveries. as this appointment was the dearest wish and ambition of velasquez's life, it is easy to understand how potent this offer was in persuading him to make cortez the leader of the expedition. there was on the other hand much opposition to the choice. all of the relatives and many of the friends and counsellors of velasquez warned him not to trust cortez. las casas joined his advice with theirs, warning velasquez, however, not so much against cortez as against the royal contador, de lares, and anyone whom he might favor. de lares, he said, had lived long in italy, a country then considered to be a very hotbed of trickery and treachery, and was doubtless deeply imbued with the spirit of conspiracy and intrigue, which he was quite likely to exercise against velasquez himself. cortez was of course well aware of these conflicting influences, and for some time felt much uncertainty as to which side would prove the more powerful. he especially dreaded the return of grijalva, fearing that either he would regain the favor of his uncle, or would give so glowing a report of the wealth of mexico as to excite the cupidity of velasquez to a degree that would move him to go thither in person. when he learned that grijalva had arrived at havana and was about to come across the island to santiago, he pushed preparations for his departure with feverish haste, apparently determined to set out whether velasquez approved his going or not. he borrowed large sums of money, wherever he could, for fitting out the expedition at his own expense if necessary, and in fact he did thus provide a large share of its cost. he also recruited a number of men upon whom he could depend to stand by him in any emergency; even if he should have to defy the authority of velasquez and sail without his permission. the middle of november, , was the crucial and indeed epochal time; in which the fate of velasquez, the fortunes of cortez, and in a large measure the future of the spanish empire in america, were all decided. within a week, three major incidents occurred. first, on november , velasquez received his commission from the king, as adelantado of cuba and all new lands which he might cause to be discovered. in getting that for him, de ducro and de lares fulfilled their promise; whereupon velasquez in turn fulfilled his agreement, by confirming the appointment of cortez. two days later, on november , grijalva arrived at santiago, and as already stated was unfavorably received. nevertheless, the apprehensions of cortez were partially fulfilled. velasquez did not, indeed, restore his nephew to favor, but he was so impressed by the reports and visible and tangible tokens of the wealth of mexico, that he hesitated to let cortez go. the thought occurred to him that it would be better to go himself, or to send somebody upon whom he could more implicitly depend. his hesitation became known to cortez, and of course greatly disquieted and alarmed him. but with the intrepidity and resolution which were characteristic of him, he hastened his preparations for departure and added to them preparations for breaking away by force if that should be necessary. it has been said by some that he finally sailed secretly, by night. las casas tells that story, and the american historian of cortez, prescott, credits and repeats it. others have pictured cortez as sailing away openly, with velasquez falling upon his knees on the shore, imploring him not to go. we may prudently relegate both these versions to the realm of imagination. the far more likely story is that given by honest bernal diaz. he tells us that andres de ducro--probably knowing that there was danger that velasquez would change his mind and revoke the appointment of cortez--urged cortez to sail without delay; that cortez accordingly, the second day after grijalva's arrival at santiago ordered all his men to go aboard ship and remain there; that he then went with de ducro and de lares to bid velasquez adieu; and that the next day, november , after attending an early mass at the cathedral, he went aboard and at once set sail for mexico. that was five days after the appointment of velasquez as adelantado, and three days after the arrival of the real discoverer of mexico, grijalva, at santiago. with those three incidents, as we have said, a new era began. we need not here concern ourselves with the further doings of cortez, excepting in that he took from cuba several hundred of its most venturesome and competent men, including many of those who had been with grijalva; and that he promptly renounced the authority of velasquez over the new lands which were to be discovered. the breach between the two occurred when cortez, having sailed from santiago, put into the cuban port of trinidad for men and supplies. there he was intercepted by a messenger from velasquez, with orders to return at once to santiago. if he would not obey this summons, the alcalde, verduzo, was authorized forcibly to deprive him of his commission and to give it instead to vasco portallo. the latter was a friend of velasquez, who had formerly been considered by him for the leadership of the expedition, before the choice fell on cortez. another candidate had been baltazar bermudez, whom indeed velasquez actually selected for the place, only to have him decline it. cortez, as might have been expected, refused to return. instead, he prevailed upon the governor's own messenger to join his expedition. to the demand of the alcalde, that he surrender his commission, he replied with a haughty refusal, and so strong was the force which he had with him that verduzo prudently refrained from any attempt to coerce him. he then wrote a friendly letter to velasquez, assuring him that he was giving himself needless concern, took on additional supplies, and resumed his voyage. he had previously helped himself freely from a royal storehouse at macaca, saying that he was going on the king's business and was therefore entitled to the king's goods. also he is said to have stopped a merchant ship bound for hispaniola, and to have taken such goods from its cargo as he desired. thus provided, he next put in at the harbor at or near batabano which had in been called san cristobal de la havana, but which by this time was falling into some disuse and was surrendering its name to the far more important port on the northern coast. here another messenger from velasquez intercepted him, with a similar command, to which cortez gave a similar reply. last of all, he touched at guane, on what is now appropriately known as cortez bay, near the western extremity of the island; and thence, at the middle of february, , left cuba for the island of cozumel, thence to proceed to vera cruz, mexico. the story of his burning his ships after he had landed, in order that his men might have no thought or hope of returning, is historic, and is true. but in effect he did the same, at least for himself, before that time. he departed from cuba in circumstances which made his return to that island impossible; at least as long as velasquez was its governor. then, to seal the matter and make the breach with his former friend and patron more absolutely irremediable, immediately upon landing at vera cruz he organized a government by appointing some of his own men to be a municipal council. then to that council of his own creation he surrendered the commission which velasquez had bestowed upon him; and finally, also from his own creatures, he accepted appointment as royal governor of new spain! it was of course out of the question that velasquez would meekly acquiesce in this flouting of his authority, and particularly in this open attempt to deprive him of his newly-won authority as adelantado of mexico. he immediately reported to the king what cortez had done, and protested against it as a defiance of the king's authority as well as his own. but cortez answered his protests and appeals to the crown with still more potent arguments in justification of his course. these arguments took the form of bars and ingots of gold, which he secured in mexico and sent to spain; in some cases "ballasting his ships" with the precious metal. one of the first of these treasure ships was a brigantine, dispatched in the midsummer of under the pilot-captain alaminos. as it passed havana it was espied by juan de rojas, a cousin of velasquez, who sent word of it to velasquez. the latter sent out gonzalo de guzman to intercept and seize it, but he failed in the errand. finding his appeals and protests ineffective against the gold of cortez, velasquez determined to use force. he was adelantado, by royal commission. therefore cortez was a rebel. he rallied his friends, in both cuba and hispaniola. he used his own immense wealth freely for the purchase and equipment of ships. he enlisted an army twice as great as the force which had accompanied cortez. with this expedition he purposed to follow cortez to mexico, and compel his submission. whether he would have succeeded in this undertaking, had it not been interfered with, must remain subject matter of speculation; for there was prompt and effective interference. diego columbus, in hispaniola, became much concerned. he was still admiral, and nominally, at least, superior in authority to velasquez as well as to cortez, and he did not wish to have his subordinates fighting among themselves. so he sent one of the most eminent spanish colonial judges, lucas vasquez de ayllon, to cuba to make peace. this envoy reached santiago in january, , just in time to find that velasquez and his expedition had already sailed for mexico. with the swiftest vessel he could find he set out in pursuit, and was lucky enough to overtake them where they had stopped for supplies, in corrientes bay, near the extreme western point of the island. ayllon seems to have been vested with no actual authority over velasquez. he merely tried to dissuade him from executing his purpose. he urged him to content himself with sending one or two vessels on to mexico, with a summons to cortez, to return or at least to abandon his pretensions of independence and to acknowledge the authority of velasquez; under penalty of being reported to the king as a contumacious rebel. the rest of the expedition, he suggested, might be used in explorations elsewhere. above all, he pleaded with velasquez not to go to mexico himself, but to return to santiago, where his presence was sorely needed. velasquez yielded to these entreaties so far as to abandon personal leadership of the expedition. he made panfilo de narvaez leader in his stead, and then returned to santiago. ayllon went along with narvaez, to keep the peace. the result was that soon after landing in mexico, narvaez was wounded and made captive by cortez, and practically all his men, with their stores, munitions, arms and ships, who had been sent out to subdue cortez, became loyal followers of that resourceful conquistador. in fact, we may judiciously reckon that cortez owed his success in the conquest of mexico to the reenforcements which he thus received from the expedition which had been sent against him. later, it is true, some members of narvaez's party became a source of serious peril to cortez. this was at the beginning of the year , after the death of montezuma and the _noche triste_, and at the time when cortez was planning to return to the city of mexico as its conqueror. a number of narvaez's men entered into a conspiracy to assassinate cortez, and at their head was one villafana, who had been a very close friend and earnest partisan of velasquez. because of that relationship, it was suspected by cortez that the man had been incited to undertake the crime by velasquez himself. of this there was, however, no proof, and no attempt was made to fasten responsibility or odium upon velasquez; which we may be sure would have been done had any real ground for it been discovered. by interesting coincidence, the conspiracy was made, detected and punished at the very time when, as we shall see, velasquez was being removed from the governorship of cuba. villafana modelled his plans upon those of the slayers of julius cæsar. all the conspirators were to approach cortez in public, and one of them was to approach him with what should purport to be a letter from his father, martin cortez, just arrived on a vessel from spain. the moment he took the letter and began to read it, all were to rush upon him and stab him with their knives. cortez detected the plot just in time. he personally went with guards to villafana's apartments and arrested him, while others took the other conspirators into custody. villafana was put to death, and the others were imprisoned. then cortez, with characteristic resourcefulness, turned the incident to account for his own profit, by making it the pretext for continually thereafter surrounding himself with an armed body guard of his most trusted soldiers. velasquez returned to santiago to find affairs in a sad plight. small pox, measles and other epidemics were raging, and disastrous tropical hurricanes had swept the island, destroying crops and buildings. a large proportion of the most efficient men of the island had followed cortez--and narvaez--to mexico. moreover, diego columbus, at hispaniola, was threatening trouble. it must be remembered that velasquez had practically flouted columbus's authority, almost as much as his own had been flouted by cortez. at any rate, the admiral had a serious grievance against him, and deemed this a fitting time for calling him to account. apparently he was further aggrieved because velasquez would not more fully accept the counsel of ayllon. at any rate, in the middle of january, , he sent over to cuba an envoy, to take the place of velasquez as governor of cuba and to investigate the manner in which velasquez had administered his affairs. this envoy was alfonso de zuazo, who thus became the second governor of cuba. in this action velasquez acquiesced; probably because he durst not do otherwise. it would have been a dangerous thing in any circumstances to defy the admiral; and it would have been superlatively so at a time when cuba had just been stripped of its ships and its best fighting men. nevertheless, he pointed out that he himself was still commandant of the fort at baracoa, and was repartidor of the natives throughout the island. this latter was in some important respects a more influential office than that of governor, and it velasquez held, not by the admiral's appointment but by virtue of a commission granted directly by the king himself. he could not, therefore, be superseded or interfered with in any way by the admiral or any of his underlings, nor by anybody short of the king himself. in this he was quite right, and when zuazo, relying upon diego columbus's authority, did infringe upon some of velasquez's functions and powers, the latter complained to the king, and the king disavowed zuazo, and severely reprimanded columbus. velasquez was not, however, yet at the end of his difficulties. the royal vindication of his claims was gratifying, and he doubtless felt some secret satisfaction in the humiliation of diego columbus. but the son of the great admiral was not a man to be flouted with impunity, not even by the king of spain. true, he acquiesced, perforce, in the royal decree. but his resourceful mind quickly devised another line of attack upon velasquez. at the beginning of , accompanied by two judges of the supreme court of hispaniola, he proceeded to santiago de cuba, and there instituted a judicial investigation into the conduct of velasquez's administration. to this velasquez demurred, on the grounds already mentioned that as repartidor he was accountable to the king alone. diego columbus responded by pointing out in the commission of velasquez as repartidor a provision that the judges of hispaniola might and indeed should give him specific advice as to the conduct of his office; and such advice they thereupon proceeded to give, in terms indistinguishable from commands. to this velasquez could not demur; the text of his commission did indeed provide for that very thing. but his retort was prompt and effective. the commission provided for the giving of advice, but it did not require velasquez to accept it! as a matter of fact, it was not accepted but ignored, and diego columbus and his judges returned to hispaniola in defeat. one more effort was made by velasquez to vindicate his authority over cortez in mexico. he went so far as to equip a third expedition of which he personally took command, intending to invade mexico and compel cortez to submit to his authority. this expedition sailed from cuba in the fall of , but never reached the coast of mexico. it was intercepted by a message from the king, announcing that he had appointed cortez to be governor of mexico in entire independence of cuba, and expressly forbidding velasquez to interfere with him in any way. this was conclusive, and velasquez returned home, abandoning all further thoughts of mexico. despite his losses and the great expense to which he had gone in fruitless mexican ventures, he was still one of the richest men in cuba; especially since the death of his father-in-law, cristobal de cuellar, who had left him the major part of his large fortune. as repartidor, also, he continued his activities in public affairs. in the summer of he personally directed a campaign against a revolt and depredations of an indian tribe inhabiting some of the small islands off the cuban coast. he suffered humiliation, it is true, in having at about that same time public proclamation made in cuba of the royal decree inhibiting him from further designs against cortez. but before the end of the year atonement was made for this in another royal decree completely restoring velasquez to his place as governor of cuba. the causes which led to this extraordinary action are obscure, but it seems probable that the king recognized the really great services and merits of velasquez, and it is quite possible that he had reason for dissatisfaction with zuazo. at any rate, at about christmas time, , velasquez was restored and zuazo was summarily dismissed. no charges were at that time preferred against zuazo, nor was he prosecuted or subjected to any penalties. but his commission as governor was declared to have been illegal and all his acts to have been therefore null and void. everything was therefore put back in as nearly as possible the condition it was in when velasquez was formerly governor. zuazo seems to have taken his dismissal philosophically, without demur or resentment; wherefore we may suspect that as a lawyer he realized that there had indeed been a fatal flaw in his commission. he remained at santiago for a few weeks, and then went to mexico as the attorney and envoy of francisco de garay, the governor of jamaica, who had a controversy with cortez as to which of them was the rightful governor of panuco. in this errand he was frustrated by shipwreck and other vicissitudes, and it does not appear that he ever had an opportunity of serving garay as had been intended. in time, however, he reached mexico, and was regarded with much favor by cortez, who appointed him to a lucrative and influential office. a little later he was extradited by the cuban government, and was brought back to that island as a prisoner, to undergo trial for alleged misdemeanors committed when he was governor. this strenuous action was taken in . zuazo complained bitterly of such harsh treatment, which probably was unwarranted. at any rate, he was acquitted; whereupon he went to hispaniola and spent the remainder of his life there in prosperity. we have seen that the restoration of velasquez to the governorship of cuba came as a sort of solatium for his loss and humiliation with respect to mexico. but it did not altogether reconcile him to the destruction of his hopes and ambitions. on the contrary, he conceived the scheme of remonstrating with the king and pleading his cause in person. setting his affairs in order, therefore, he prepared to set sail for spain, and was just on the point of doing so when death supervened. he died on june , , and was interred, according to his wish, in the cathedral of santiago de cuba. the king, who had so recently both humiliated him and honored him, was profoundly affected by the loss of one who had added much lustre to the crown of spain, and wrote for his tomb an epitaph in latin, eloquently setting forth his merits and his services. this was not, however, inscribed above his remains, and soon was forgotten. instead, there was popularly circulated and remembered an epigram upon him coined by some adversary whose identity is unknown. this declared velasquez to have been "covetous of honor, but more covetous of gain." this we must regard as unjust. velasquez had his faults, and some of them were grave. he was at times arbitrary and ruthless, as most empire-builders of all lands have been. he was not always grateful to those who served him faithfully, nor was he impartial in his dealings with men. these faults were, however, common in those times, and they were no more marked in velasquez than in his contemporaries. on the other hand he unquestionably had great virtues. he had courage, vision, enterprise, and statesmanlike views for the development of his domain. his work in cuba was over-shadowed by that of cortez in mexico and of pizarro in peru, but it was in essence not less meritorious than theirs, for which indeed it prepared and opened the way. it is one of the tragedies of history that his very tomb should have been forgotten and lost, and his name remembered as a name and nothing more. for in the early history of cuba there is no other name which stands for so much in conquest and colonization, and in the foundation, organization and development of the state, as that of the first cuban governor, diego de velasquez. chapter ix velasquez had been governor--technically lieutenant-governor under the admiral, diego columbus, at hispaniola--for more than thirteen years; save for the abortive and illegal administration of zuazo. but after him gubernatorial terms were destined to be of much shorter duration, and marked with many vicissitudes. his nominal successor was appointed some time before his death. whether in anticipation of his decease, or with the design of ousting him, is not clear. at any rate, at the middle of may, probably on may , , juan altamarino was named by the king to be the next governor, for a term of two years and no more. he appears not to have been in any way identified with the island, though probably he had been associated with diego columbus in hispaniola; and at the time of his appointment he was in peninsular spain. he made no haste to go to cuba and assume his office, wherefore it was necessary, upon the death of velasquez a few weeks later, that some stop-gap governor should be named. diego columbus, who as admiral might have made such temporary appointment, was also in spain. in consequence, the audiencia or supreme court of hispaniola acted in his stead, and appointed manuel de rojas. this forceful and patriotic man was a cousin of velasquez, who had been sent by the latter to spain in july, , as his advocate before the king in the controversy with cortez over mexico. he had served for some time as alcalde of baracoa; he was a loyal friend of velasquez, and a man of approved ability and integrity. he was also the first cuban governor of cuba. by that i mean that he was the first to regard cuba as a separate entity, apart from hispaniola and mexico and even from spain itself. velasquez, vast as were his services, was never able to dissociate the interests of cuba from those of spain, or even from those of mexico and other spanish lands in this hemisphere, insular and continental; and had actually compromised the welfare of cuba in grasping at the viceroyalty of new spain. zuazo, if he is to be reckoned in the line of governors at all, was quite alien to cuba. but rojas was an insular patriot. he was of course entirely loyal to spain. but that fact did not restrain him from developing an intense local patriotism. he regarded cuba as a great enough country to command his entire attention and devotion. his policy was, cuba for the cubans; and he was the first of a line of governors, not always unbroken, committed to that enlightened policy. the island at this time, indeed, well merited such regard. it had been extensively settled, and its resources were beginning to be developed. gold mining was profitably practised. agriculture and cattle-raising had made great progress. juan mosquera, as the envoy or representative of the cuban municipalities in spain, had in february, , secured from the king the first recognition of and encouragement for the sugar industry, which had already been established in hispaniola, and which far-sighted men perceived to be capable of great things in cuba. he had also, a year earlier, secured from the king grants of free trade between cuba and all other spanish colonies around the caribbean, insular or continental; together with some reforms of the royalty system in gold mining and a comprehensive and orderly scheme of taxation for the building of roads and bridges and other necessary public works. in fact, cuba was beginning to "find herself" and to show herself worthy of the affection and patriotism of her people. the administration of rojas was for the time, however, cut short. it had been ordered legally enough, but with the understanding that it was only temporary, pending the coming of altamarino. unfortunately the hispaniola audiencia went too far. it also appointed rojas to succeed velasquez as repartidor of the natives, which it had no right to do, the power to make that appointment being reserved exclusively for the king himself. it does not appear that he misused his power, or even indeed that he exercised it at all as repartidor; though it is likely that his illegal appointment to that office caused some quite unmerited prejudice against him at madrid. his administration of the governorship, which was legal, was brief. altamarino entered santiago de cuba on march , , and at once assumed office, and rojas retired without demur and without reproach. altamarino had been commissioned as juez de residencia, to investigate the administration and conduct of velasquez. that commission came of course from the king, but there is reason for suspecting that diego columbus had something to do with it. if he did not instigate it, he certainly heartily approved it. now velasquez had, at the time of altamarino's appointment, been living and in office. but at the time when altamarino actually assumed the powers and duties of the governorship and those of the juez de residencia, velasquez had been dead and buried in the cathedral of santiago for nine months. no such trifling circumstance as that was, however, to be permitted to cause any deviation of the course of spanish official procedure; particularly when the latter was urged on by personal animus. diego columbus had desired and the king had commanded velasquez to be investigated, and investigated he must be, alive or dead. his remains were not, it is true, to be disinterred and placed at the bar. but his name and reputation were made the target for all manner of attack. a proclamation was issued, inviting everybody who had anything against the former governor to make it known, publicly, fully and fearlessly, being assured of immunity for anything they might say. in response there was a mighty flood of insinuations, complaints, accusations, calumnies. nor did altamarino content himself with this. he ransacked the archives of cuba for all complaints, protests and what not that had ever been made, and if the makers of them could be found, as most of them could, he summoned them before his tribunal and required them to testify everything they could to the discredit of velasquez. a similar inquisition was conducted into the affairs of all the chief office-holders and administrators under velasquez. the result was what might have been expected, seeing that there was no opportunity for velasquez to reply to the charges or to cross-examine the witnesses against him, or to produce other testimony in rebuttal. the founder of the cuban state was charged with the acceptance of gifts, including a horse and a mule; with having levied and collected taxes without special authority from the king, though these were admittedly for road-building and other useful public purposes; with having participated in gambling games, though rojas pointed out that his fellow gamblers were among the foremost members of the community; with having failed to check and punish blasphemous utterances; with having neglected to pay for some of the supplies which were taken for his mexican expeditions; and with having administered justice without due regard to the letter of the statute law, which was not strange, seeing that he was not a lawyer. in his mortuary absence, he was found guilty, by default, and was condemned to pay heavy fines; which were collected from his heirs. the dead lion was not, however, without his vengeance upon the jackals that would defile his sepulchre. the inquisition went too far, and too dearly disclosed its animus. a vigorous resentment and reaction soon arose, widespread and formidable; among the municipal councils and among the people. the kinsmen and friends of velasquez were numerous, loyal to his memory, and powerful in influence. gonzalo de guzman, who had been the advocate of velasquez at court at madrid, not only against cortez but also against diego columbus himself, and nuñez de guzman, the royal treasurer at santiago de cuba, were brothers-in-law of velasquez; and andres duero, pedro de paz, and diego de soto were his steadfast friends. these were all men of wealth and influence. like rojas, they were cuban colonists, and resented meddling in cuban affairs by one whom they considered an outsider. they were, moreover, life members of the municipal council of santiago, by appointment of the king, and were therefore independent of the governor so far as their tenure of office was concerned, and removable only by the king. they therefore arrayed themselves solidly against altamarino, and rallied to the opposition the councils of the other municipalities and many of the principal men throughout the island. altamarino replied by trumping up charges against several of the life councillors, of having expended public funds without authorization, and suspended them from their functions, or attempted to do so. he certainly could not remove them outright, and there was much question of his right to suspend them, unless during actual trial in court. the guzmans and their allies retorted by obtaining from the court at hispaniola an injunction restraining altamarino from attending meetings of the council, so that he would not know whether the suspended members continued their functions or not. against this the governor furiously protested, declaring that his predecessors had habitually attended all council meetings, and he issued an order forbidding the council of santiago to transact any business whatever or indeed to meet officially, in his absence. of course this brought matters to an impasse, which could be solved only through appeal to the king. this was made, and resulted in a royal decision in favor of the councils, confirming the injunction of the hispaniola tribunal against the governor's intrusion into council meetings. this, in the early autumn of , was obviously the beginning of the end for altamarino. a little later, in october of that year, the various municipal councils of the island united in sending rodrigo duran to hispaniola, to prefer to the court there charges against altamarino of a most serious character. they were indeed tantamount to his impeachment and a demand for his removal from the governorship. the court hesitated to take action so radical, but considered the charges sufficiently important to warrant reference to the king. the result was that the king promptly decided against the governor. less than nine months after his actual assumption of office, and little more than a year and a half after his appointment to it, altamarino was summarily removed from the place to which he had been appointed for two years. immediately after this, at the beginning of december, , altamarino's chief antagonist, gonzalo de guzman, a life councillor of santiago, was appointed to succeed him as governor, and also as repartidor of the natives, with all the plenary authority that velasquez had exercised. nor was that all. guzman was commissioned juez de residencia, to investigate the affairs of the deposed altamarino as the latter had investigated those of the deceased velasquez. guzman appears not actually to have taken office until april , , and not to have begun his inquest into his predecessor's affairs until midsummer of that year. but he then made up for the delay with the searching and ruthless character of his investigation. we can scarcely doubt that he was moved by a large degree of personal vindictiveness. certainly he seemed to try to be as irritating and as humiliating to altamarino as possible; the more so, perhaps, because he realized that there was nothing serious to be proved, and that the chief penalty the ex-governor would suffer would be the heckling and denunciation which he received during the investigation. there were charges enough against him, but not one warranted any severe punishment. as a matter of fact, all the penalties imposed upon him were light, and they were all promptly remitted by the king; the royal advisers at madrid reporting to his majesty that the whole business had been nothing but a tempest in a teapot. nevertheless, the episode ended the career of altamarino in cuba. he at once departed to mexico, and was seen in the island no more. we may now fittingly observe a certain highly significant political development which at this time was manifested in the island. reference has already been made to the rise of a feeling of local pride and municipal independence in the various provinces into which the island was divided, and also to the marked assertion of insular patriotism under rojas and his colleagues. the former movement dated from as early as , when panfilo de narvaez secured from the king a decree giving to some of the members of municipal councils life terms of office. in that year, accordingly, gonzalo de guzman and diego de sumana were appointed by the king to be life councillors, or regidors, in santiago; alonzo bembrilla and bernardino yniguez in trinidad; and francisco santa cruz and, as we might suppose, panfilo de narvaez himself in bayamo. a little later diego de caballero and fernando de medina were appointed in sancti spiritus, and rodrigo canon and sancho de urrutia in puerto del principe. in addition to these there were, of course, other councillors appointed by the governor for limited terms. but the life councillors gave tone and direction to the municipal administrations and developed a certain degree of local independence of the general government of the island. in brief, there began to be promulgated at this early date the salutary principle that the various municipalities or provinces were to enjoy home rule in all purely local matters, while of course remaining subject to the governor in everything relating to the general welfare of the island; and also that the island was to enjoy home rule in all matters pertaining exclusively to it, while subject and loyal to the crown in everything affecting the general welfare and integrity of the spanish kingdom and its colonial empire. the motives and purpose of narvaez in seeking this permanent tenure for municipal councillors have been much debated. he has been charged by some, and not unnaturally, with a selfish purpose to entrench himself and his friends irremovably in office. on the other hand there have been those who have credited him with a high-minded and statesmanlike design of promoting the welfare of cuba by securing stability of local government under the best men. knowing what we do of his character, it seems reasonable to suppose that the latter motive was potent, even if the other also had some influence. what is quite certain is, however, that the system quickly became a formidable power in cuban politics, sometimes beneficent and sometimes mischievous. these permanent councillors were powerful in bringing to naught the brief administration of zuazo, and they formed, as already stated, the head and front of the successful opposition to altamarino. at the same time, through their control of the election of alcaldes and other local officers they gave to the local administrations a stability which they might not otherwise have enjoyed. with the accession of gonzalo de guzman to the governorship, however, a strong and widespread reaction against the councillors arose. this was doubtless largely provoked by the injudicious action of guzman himself. as a life councillor of santiago he had been foremost in securing the exclusion of altamarino from sessions of the councils. but when he himself became governor, he retained his life councillorship and therefore insisted upon his right to continue attending the meetings. remonstrance against this was made, to the king; he having appointed guzman to both offices; but he declined to interfere. he did, however, appoint additional life councillors, enough largely to outnumber the partisans of guzman. he also took the very important step of authorizing each municipality to elect from among its councillors a procurator, or public advocate, corresponding in some respects to a tribune of the ancient roman republic. these procurators soon found their chief occupation in resisting and protesting against those acts of the councils which they deemed inimical to the public welfare. the procurators of all the municipalities met together, to compare notes and to take counsel together for the common good, and there was an increasing inclination among them to oppose what they regarded as the growing tyranny of the councils. at such a meeting of all the procurators, in march, , manuel de rojas, procurator for bayamo, took the sensational action of presenting a formal popular protest against what was described as the arrogance and oligarchical tendencies of the councils. this provoked an impassioned reply from juan de quexo, the procurator for havana, who denied the statements and insinuations of the document and opposed its reception by the meeting. but after an acrimonious controversy, rojas won the day. the protest was received, adopted by the convention, and forwarded to the king of spain. together with it the procurators forwarded to the king some radical recommendations for the improvement of the insular government. these were, that the governor should always be selected from among the bona fide residents of the island and should be appointed for a term of three years; that the life tenure of councillors should be abolished; and that all councillors, alcaldes and procurators should be elected yearly by the people. these suggestions were not in their entirety received favorably by the king. he refused outright to adopt those relating to the selection and appointment of governors, and to the abolition of life councillorships. he did, however, order that the procurators should be elected yearly by the people, and he greatly enlarged the functions and powers of that office. a new system of choosing alcaldes was also decreed. instead of their being elected yearly by the councils, it was ordered that the council presided over by the alcalde should nominate two candidates, that the council members without the alcalde should nominate two more, and that the governor should name one; and that from among these five a first and second alcalde should be chosen by lot. thus in the administration of gonzalo de guzman the principle of "cuba for the cubans," afterward long neglected, was pretty efficiently established. the governor, at that time, and all other royal officers of the island, were cuban colonists; and the people were invested with power to select their own procurators or advocates, who were irremovable, and who were competent to represent the people not only in the cuban courts and in those of hispaniola, but also before the royal council for the indies at madrid, and who were empowered to proceed against the municipal councils, the royal officials, or even the governor himself. chapter x the early part of the administration of gonzalo de guzman was chiefly occupied with the investigation of his predecessors' stewardships, and with controversies with the municipal councils. there was also a controversy with the crown over the payment to him of a salary for his services, which he requested of the king, and which the king ordered to be paid to him, but which he did not receive. then came complications over the royal treasurership in the island. christopher de cuellar had been succeeded in that office by pedro nuñez de guzman. the latter died, leaving a considerable fortune, and the colonial government at hispaniola immediately designated andres duero to succeed him temporarily, until the king should make a permanent appointment; the expectation apparently being that duero would be confirmed in the office. unfortunately for the success of this design, however, the temporary appointment had been made without consulting the royal officials; who were not unnaturally piqued and offended. the result was that a protest was made to the king, not only against the method of his appointment but also against duero himself. to this the king listened sympathetically, and he presently overruled the appointment of duero, and in place of him named hernando de castro as temporary treasurer, until such time as he could have conditions investigated and could select some fitting man as a permanent incumbent. oddly enough, castro had once before supplanted duero, as the royal factor in cuba. this office had first been held by bernardino velasquez, upon whose death andres duero had been appointed to hold it temporarily, only to be speedily replaced by castro. the latter appears to have been one of the most enterprising men of affairs of that time, and to have done more than most of his contemporaries for the industrial and economic development of the island. he became engaged in commerce between spain and the west indies at an early date, and paid much attention to agriculture, which he believed would be the chief permanent industry of cuba. it was he who introduced the cultivation of wheat and other staples, with a view to making the island self-supporting, and for such activities he received the formal thanks of the king. unfortunately, he too somewhat compromised himself by attempting to appropriate as his own the native cubans who had been the serfs of bernardino velasquez and whom duero, the factor pro tempore, had seized. soon after the replacing of duero with castro as treasurer pro tempore the former died, and then the latter was in turn replaced by the permanent appointment of lopez hurtado, who held the place for many years, and who was distinguished at once for his honesty and his irrepressible cantankerousness. he seemed to have a mania for faultfinding; though doubtless there was much legitimate occasion for the exercise of that faculty. to his mind, almost every other man in cuba was a knave, and he never wearied of reporting to the king, in interminable written messages, his complaints and accusations. not only in spite of but also because of this he was a most useful public servant. pedro nuñez de guzman, who died in , left, as we have seen, a considerable fortune. practically all of it was left to his widow, and her the thrifty gonzalo de guzman presently married, and thus got himself into one of the most serious controversies of his whole career. a part of the fortune of pedro consisted of about two hundred cuban serfs. these gonzalo de guzman, as repartidor, transferred to the widow, and then, of course, when he married her, they became his property. this roused the animosity of the honest but cantankerous hurtado, who thought that the cubans should have been given to himself, as their former owner's official successor; according to the example set by hernando de castro, as already related. hurtado accordingly wrote to the king a long letter on the subject, which, though it did not cause intervention in that special matter, attracted the king's attention to the complications which the guzman marriage was producing. the mother of the late pedro nuñez de guzman next appeared as a party to the controversy. this lady, doña leonora de quiñones, who had remained in spain, complained that a great injustice had been done to her and to her other children by the transfer of pedro's entire fortune to his widow and thence to the latter's second husband, and she applied to the spanish courts for relief. the result was a series of lawsuits, which scandalized the spanish courts for a term of years. in these suits many prominent cubans were involved, and nearly the whole population of the island took sides for one or the other of the parties. street brawls occurred over it, and the violence culminated in a physical scuffle in the aisle of the cathedral, between gonzalo de guzman and the alcalde of santiago, in which the latter had most of his clothes torn from his back, and for which guzman was required to do penance. the king had given his assent to the guzman marriage, and was unwilling to withdraw it, or to censure guzman for taking and striving to retain all of pedro's estate. nevertheless he remonstrated with the litigants for the fury of their controversy, which he truly told them was not only a disgrace to the island but was also a grave practical injury to it. the conflict continued, however, until all the resources of the law courts were exhausted. by that time many of the lawyers were considerably enriched, but a still large part of the estate was confirmed in the possession of gonzalo de guzman and his wife. all this militated against the confidence with which guzman had been regarded, and hastened steps for the subjection of him to the fate of his predecessors. we have seen that guzman had been commissioned to investigate the administration of his predecessor, altamarino, and that he had performed that congenial task with energy and zeal. now came his own turn to undergo the same treatment. it was only a little more than two years after his accession to the governorship that the king or the crown officials in spain concluded that it would be well to have his affairs looked into. for the performance of this work juan vadillo was selected, in the autumn of . he was a notably efficient man. he had been employed for some time by the crown as a debt-collector in cuba, hispaniola, jamaica and porto rico, and had been highly successful in that work; wherefore it was thought that he would subject guzman's administration to a particularly thorough examination. he declined, however, to accept the commission; for a variety of reasons. one was, that he had thitherto taken his orders and received his commissions directly from the king, and he considered it beneath his dignity now to be an underling of a mere admiral of the indies--or of the widow of the admiral, since the commission for this job was to be given by the widow of diego columbus. another reason was found in the terms on which the commission was to be granted. he was to be governor of cuba for thirty days. during that time he was to conduct his investigation of guzman's administration. then, with the assumption that thirty days would afford him ample time to complete the work, he was to restore the governorship to guzman, apparently quite irrespective of the result of his inquest. still another reason was, that his instructions were not sufficiently explicit. it was not, for example, made clear whether he was to replace guzman as repartidor as well as in the governorship. a final reason, perhaps not least of all, was that the salary offered was not sufficient. while thus declining to accept the commission, vadillo manifested his fitness for it and his serviceable interest in cuban affairs by pointing out to the sovereign various grave defects in the administration of cuban affairs, particularly in that of the repartidor's functions. one important object of the repartimiento system was to assure a suitable distribution of native labor throughout the island. it was in fact operating to just the contrary effect. some parts of the island were overcrowded, while others were almost entirely destitute of labor. these representations had their effect at court; not, it is true, in the ordering of correction of the evils, but in confirming the desire to have vadillo investigate insular affairs. after more than two years' delay, then, on february , , another summons was sent to vadillo. this time it was not a request but a peremptory order to go at once to cuba and undertake the work. the conditions were, however, materially changed. he was to have his commission from the king. he was to be governor for sixty days instead of thirty. he was to be repartidor, also, in conjunction with the bishop of cuba. he was to have an adequate salary. and at the end of his investigation of guzman's administration he was to hand the governorship over, not necessarily to guzman again, but to anyone whom he might choose, until the widow of diego columbus should make a permanent appointment. on these conditions vadillo accepted the commission and entered upon his work with the efficiency and zeal that had marked his former undertaking. he quickly found that there was much need for investigation, and of thorough reforms. the whole administration had become demoralized by the personal jealousies and local feuds which for years had been raging. bribery, slander, false arrest, even murder, had been resorted to by political partisans for the accomplishment of their ends, until something like chaos had been precipitated upon the unhappy island. it was in november, , that vadillo arrived at santiago de cuba on his formidable errand. he purposed to spend a few weeks in preliminary surveys of the ground, announcing that his sixty days' incumbency of the governorship would begin on january . on the latter date the actual house-cleaning began. the tremendous indictment which guzman had made against altamarino was a petty trifle in comparison with that which vadillo launched against guzman. there was scarcely any conceivable form of maladministration which was not charged against the governor. he had, said vadillo, interfered with freedom of suffrage at elections. he had levied and collected taxes for which there was no warrant in law. he had appointed and commissioned notaries, although he had no legal power to do so. he had failed to compel married men either to return to their wives in spain or to send for their wives to come to cuba. he had permitted illicit trade in slaves. he had been biassed and partial in his administration of justice. all these and other accusations were made with much circumstance and with a formidable array of corroborative testimony, against guzman as governor. against him as repartidor it was charged that he had been guilty of gross and injurious misrepresentations to the crown and to the people; that he had assigned natives as serfs to his relatives and friends in defiance of law; and that he had made the distribution of native labor inequitable. all these charges were indignantly denied by guzman, who defended himself with much vigor and shrewdness. but vadillo found him to be guilty of almost every one of them, and sentenced him to pay a heavy fine and to be removed from office, both as governor and as repartidor. against this judgment guzman made appeal to the council for the indies, in spain. in order to bring all possible influence to bear upon that body, he himself went to spain, in august, , carrying a vast mass of documents, and accompanied by bishop ramirez, who was returning to spain to be consecrated. this ecclesiastic had been guzman's most staunch and zealous partisan during the investigation. he had gone so far as to threaten with excommunication anyone who should testify against the governor, and had actually excommunicated vadillo. against this act vadillo had protested to the king, and the king had reprimanded the bishop and had compelled him to withdraw the writ of excommunication. guzman therefore took the bishop along with him, partly so that the latter might be formally consecrated and have his conduct if possible vindicated, and partly to aid himself in his appeal to the council for the indies. vadillo did not trouble himself to go to spain to counteract guzman's appeal. a month before the departure of guzman and the bishop he left cuba for hispaniola, conscious of having done his duty. he had been a fearless and thorough investigator and a just judge; and he had rendered to cuba and to the spanish crown services far greater than he ever received compensation or credit for. indeed, he did not enjoy so much as the gratitude of the people of cuba, most of whom were partisans of guzman or of some other political leader, and had become so accustomed to the corrupt ways which had been followed for years that they were inclined to resent any attempt at reform. upon the expiration of his sixty days' incumbency, vadillo designated manuel de rojas to be governor in his stead, until an appointment of permanent character could be made by the admiral at hispaniola. rojas was reluctant to accept the place, knowing that he would find it more arduous and even perilous than before, but he was finally prevailed upon to do so, apparently more through a sense of public duty than for any expectation of personal advantage. chapter xi the first governorship of gonzalo de guzman was marked with two features of very great importance to the young nation--for such we may properly regard cuba as having been at that time. one of these was the development of the ecclesiastical establishment into a strong and sometimes dominant force in the body politic and social; and the other was the crisis of the protracted problem of dealing with or disposing of the native indians. these two matters were, as they had been from the beginning, closely related to each other. it is a commonplace of history that there was a certain thread of religious motive running all through the exploits of columbus. he emphasized the significance of his name, christopher, christ-bearer, sometimes signing himself x. ferens. the same idea was expressed, as we have already seen, in the names which he gave to the various lands which he discovered. nor were his successors in exploration and conquest neglectful of the same spirit. accordingly the first spanish settlers in cuba took pains to plant there immediately the church of their faith, and to seek to convert the natives to christianity. among the very earliest to land upon the shores of the island were priests of the roman catholic church, and the first church was built at the first point of settlement, baracoa. some obscurity invests the records of the early ecclesiastical organization, but it seems altogether probable that the first bishop was hernando de mesa, a member of the order of st. dominic. there is no available record of his appointment and consecration, but he appears to have begun his episcopal work at baracoa in and . he built the first cuban cathedral at baracoa, and secured from the spanish government in a system of tithes for the support and propagation of the church. these tithes were to be paid not in coin but in merchandise, and they were to be collected not by the priests or other agents of the church, but by officers of the secular government. the latter was, moreover, to retain one-third of them for the erection of new church buildings, a task which it took upon itself as a measure of public works. it was not infrequently remarked that these royal tithe-gatherers were much more diligent, prompt and efficient in collecting the tithes from the people than in turning the proceeds over to the church. bishop de mesa reigned over the diocese for about three years, and then was succeeded by juan de ubite, concerning whom the records are much more detailed and explicit. he seems to have been an aggressive and fearless man, who did not hesitate to engage in controversy and even in litigation with the royal government over the matter of the tithes. he protested against the government's retaining and administering the one-third of the tithes which was devoted to church-building, insisting that it also should be turned over to the ecclesiastical authorities, who were best fitted to know the needs and to direct the work of church building. in this contention he was not successful, but he did manage to secure the levying of tithes upon the crown estates the same as upon all other property. one of the most important achievements of bishop ubite was the transfer of the cathedral from baracoa to santiago. for this change he gave two reasons. one was, that baracoa was an unhealthful spot; in which he was surely in error. the other was, that santiago was a larger and more important place, indeed, the chief city of the island; in which he was quite correct. the transfer was authorized by the civil government in october, , and plots of land were granted to the bishop for the sites of the new cathedral and of the houses of the bishop and other clergy. these latter were the same plots which are still occupied by ecclesiastical buildings, in the heart of the city of santiago de cuba. this change of the site of the cathedral was doubtless to the advantage of the church. it was probably profitable, also, to the good bishop personally. following it he became the proprietor of extensive lands, of great herds of cattle, and of a number of negro and indian slaves. he interested himself to good effect in seeing to it that the civil government provided from its third of the tithes abundant funds for church building, and thus secured the erection of two churches at trinidad, one at sancti spiritus, and one at havana, a place even at that early date rising rapidly in importance. bishop ubite reigned over the diocese until april, , and then, in circumstances which are obscure and for reasons not clearly apparent, took the extraordinary step of resigning his see. the office remained vacant until early in , when miguel ramirez was appointed to it. this third bishop was, like each of his predecessors, a dominican. he was officially styled not only bishop but also protector of the indians, with the purpose of making him a sort of check upon the repartidor. he did not arrive at santiago until the fall of , when he promptly made up for the delay by plunging into both industrial and political activities. like bishop ubite, he was an extensive land owner, cattle-raiser and slaveholder. bishop ramirez appears to have been a great meddler into politics, particularly as a hot partisan of gonzalo de guzman. he came into conflict more than once with the royal treasurer, hurtado, and was denounced by that austere censor as a scandalous disturber of the peace. this characterization was provoked by the bishop's attitude and conduct toward vadillo's investigation of guzman's administration; and it is probably not unjust to assume that the bishop's attitude and conduct were due to the fact that vadillo had seized a lot of gold which had been mined by the husband of the bishop's niece. vadillo made this seizure on two grounds: that the nephew-in-law was a mere figure-head for the bishop himself, who had no legal right to engage in gold-mining; and that the gold in question properly belonged to the royal treasury and therefore should be turned over to hurtado. at any rate the bishop was furious, and strove to restrain, with threats of excommunication, witnesses from testifying against guzman in the inquests which vadillo was conducting. vadillo was not at all alarmed or abashed by the episcopal wrath, but proceeded to look into the affairs of the church as well as the civil government, and among other reforms ordered the bishop and clergy to stop charging for funeral masses higher fees than those which were charged in hispaniola. at this the bishop seems quite to have lost his head. he began a denunciatory tirade against vadillo in the cathedral, at which the latter contemptuously turned his back upon the speaker and walked out of the building. then the bishop excommunicated him. vadillo made appeal to the king, and the king, after careful consideration and investigation, compelled the bishop to withdraw the excommunication, and in addition gave his royal approval to all that vadillo had done with respect to the church. in the first clash between the civil and ecclesiastical authorities, therefore, the former were victorious. nevertheless, the church exerted much and steadily increasing influence, particularly in matters relating to the indian natives. and these matters were of much importance. although the repartimiento system, adopted early in the administration of velasquez, was designed and supposed to put all the natives under government control, it failed to do so. among those apportioned to the colonists as serfs--practically slaves--dissatisfaction and resentment widely prevailed, and insurrections sometimes occurred. but by no means all the natives were thus apportioned. some fled to mountain fastnesses, and others, perhaps the majority, to the small islands or keys off the cuban coast, whence they became known as key indians. they used these islands, moreover, not alone as places of refuge but also as bases from which to make depredatory raids upon the mainland of cuba, to the great detriment and disturbance of the spanish settlers. so numerous, extensive and disastrous did these raids become that velasquez in commissioned rodrigo de tamayo to organize a military and naval expedition against the key indians, and to kill or capture them all. this programme was not fully carried out, but it was sufficiently executed to abate the troubles and to secure peace on the coasts for several years. tamayo's commission was renewed by altamarino, as a matter of form, there being then no need of action; and when in the administration of gonzalo de guzman there was some recrudescence of hostilities, the royal government specially authorized the waging of a campaign which should bring the last of the key indians into subjection. the new outbreaks did not, however, prove sufficiently serious to call for or to warrant strenuous action. the scene of trouble was, however, shifted from the coast to the interior of the island. several numerous companies of indians, securely lodged among the mountains, began hostilities, raiding the very suburbs of santiago itself. they were known as cimarrons, or wild indians, to distinguish them from the serfs and slaves. their pernicious activities began in , and in the following year their operations were so extensive and persistent as to simulate civil war. manuel de rojas organized a force and led it against them with much success, and would probably have soon made an end of the troubles had he not been restrained by guzman. the governor was probably jealous of the ability, popularity and rising influence of rojas, and was not willing that he should gain the prestige which complete victory would confer upon him. so he called him back in circumstances which would, he thought, discredit rojas and make his campaign seem a failure. vadillo during his brief administration sought to end the troubles by pacific and conciliatory overtures, but failed. it was thus left for rojas, on becoming governor in succession to guzman, to take up again the work from which he had been recalled by his predecessor. this he did to much effect at the end of . he sent a strong force against the mountain fastness of guama, the foremost chieftain of the cimarrons, and completely defeated him, putting him to flight and almost extirpating his band. shortly after this victory of rojas's, guama was killed by one of his own few remaining followers. rojas then sent his troops to disperse cimarron bands near bayamo, and baracoa, which they did with much success, so that peace and security were pretty well restored throughout the island. this left unsettled, however, the other and in some respects more important and more trying phase of the indian question, namely, the treatment and disposal of the "tame" indians, who for years had been in a state of practical slavery under the repartimiento system. it will be recalled that at the beginning they were placed under the protection of the jeronimite order of monks; a protection which did not effectively protect. in fact, within a dozen years of the foundation of the system the jeronimites were more oppressors than protectors, and were chiefly engaged in making what pecuniary profit they could out of their hapless wards. on this account their nominal protectorate was formally abolished by the crown, in , and gonzalo de guzman was made repartidor with powers equal to those which velasquez had exercised. indeed, his powers were even more absolute than those of velasquez, since the supreme court of hispaniola was deprived of jurisdiction over him in his administration of indian affairs. later the bishop, ramirez, was made co-repartidor with him. there then arose a protracted and bitter rivalry between the governor and bishop on the one side and the municipal alcaldes on the other, for the exercise of powers of inspection of and supervision over the labor of the natives. both sides appointed inspectors, whose functions clashed. appeal was made to the crown, with the result that the dispute was decided in favor of the alcaldes, who were authorized to appoint inspectors, which the governor and bishop were forbidden to do. as is usual in such cases, the objects of the contention were the chief sufferers. indeed, so wretched became their plight that some inkling of the truth reached the ears of the king, who thereupon commissioned a provincial of the franciscan order to go from hispaniola to cuba, to investigate charges of cruelty, and to punish severely all who were found guilty. the king also directed that he should arrange for the liberation of the natives to the fullest extent for which they seemed to be fitted. learning of this before the arrival of this commissioner, guzman and his friends set energetically to work to defeat his mission in advance. a vast mass of "evidence" was cooked up, pretending to demonstrate the unfitness of the indians for any greater measure of liberty than they were already enjoying, which was practically none at all. it was declared that the indians were at that very time largely armed and threatening the spaniards with massacre and extermination, and that any further privileges granted to them would certainly provoke a tragic catastrophe. the indians would exterminate the spanish colonists and of course revert to heathen idolatry, and it would be necessary to conquer and to convert the island over again. this perjured stuff, responsibility for which must be regarded as the worst stain upon gonzalo de guzman's fame, was presented to the king in the name of the government and people of cuba. but king charles was no fool. thousands of miles away though he was, and absorbed in important problems of other parts of his vast empire, he took pains to find out the truth about cuba. learning it, he threw the stuff which guzman had sent him into the waste basket, gave his franciscan commissioner stronger orders, declared that he wanted the indians to be treated as free men and not as slaves, and promulgated a set of new laws concerning them. in connection with these laws, as a statement of the need of them, the king delivered himself of a scathing indictment of the cuban government and people for ill-treatment of the natives and for causing depopulation of the island. (the original population of the island at the time of the first spanish settlements is unknown, but has reasonably been estimated at several hundred thousand. by the end of guzman's administration the number of surviving indians was reckoned at not more than five thousand!) these new laws, issued in the latter part of , forbade further compulsion of the indians as laborers in the mines. but in the course of a few weeks some modifications of them--to the disadvantage of the indians--were obtained through false representations at court, with the result that conditions became almost as bad as before. the king next directed sebastian ramirez, who was bishop of hispaniola and president of the supreme court, to report to him on the desirability of retaining or abolishing the repartimiento system; and that functionary reported in favor of retaining it. then miguel ramirez was made bishop of cuba and protector of the indians; and he, as we have seen, fell completely under the influence of guzman. the result was that no reforms were effected, and the state of the indians went from bad to worse. the king learned of this, and was profoundly dissatisfied. in the latter part of he demanded to know why reforms had not been effected, and especially why there had not been made the experiment of granting the natives entire freedom. equivocal replies were made, and it was not until the spring of that guzman undertook the experiment. at that time one of the colonists, who had held some slaves, died, and guzman directed that they be set at liberty and be given a chance to show what they could do as farmers. every conceivable condition was imposed upon them which would tend to make the experiment the failure which guzman intended that it should be. in the midst of the experiment, which was to last a year, guzman was removed from office. vadillo, who succeeded him for sixty days, had no authority to do anything in the premises, and so the completion of the ill-begun business was left for manuel de rojas. then began one of the most deplorable passages in all the early history of cuba, in which good intentions were frustrated, benevolent purposes defeated, and the remnants of a race undeservedly doomed to destruction. manuel de rojas should be credited with having been of all men of this time one of the most honest and able, and most sincere in his desire to do justice to the native indians. he saw through the web of trickery and malign conditions in which they had been enmeshed by those who were predetermined that the experiment of emancipation should fail, and he unsparingly denounced it all. the indians who had been "selected" for the experiment had in fact not been selected at all, but had been taken at haphazard, without regard to their fitness; if indeed they had not been taken largely because of their unfitness. they had, moreover, been subjected to the instruction and direction of those who seemed more interested in extorting profit from them than in assisting them to independence. rojas demanded that these abuses should be corrected, and that the natives should have at least a fair, unhampered chance to show themselves fit for freedom and cuban citizenship. as a result of his own painstaking investigation, he reported to the king that the tales of indian insurrections, actual or threatened, which his predecessor had circulated, were chiefly false; obviously invented for the purpose of discrediting the indians. it was the old story: "give a dog a bad name, and hang him." the indians were to be slandered, and represented as incorrigible criminals, and then doomed to slavery. moreover, in the few cases in which revolts or attempted revolts had occurred, the blame should rest upon the spaniards more than upon the indians, for the former had goaded the latter to desperation by inhuman cruelties, in resisting which the indians were manifesting not savagery but manhood. in support of this view of the situation, rojas was able to cite many specific and perfectly well authenticated instances of cruelty and injustice. to correct these evils he recommended that whenever it was proved that a mine-owner, farmer or other employer of native labor, had deliberately treated his indians cruelly or unjustly, the men should be taken away from him and either set at liberty or be assigned to a more humane employer. the danger of thus being deprived of their workmen would, he plausibly believed, restrain employers from brutality. he also insisted that the professional "slave catchers," who made a profitable business of running down and returning to their employers fugitive indians, and who notoriously treated such captives with gross cruelty, should be forbidden longer to ply their nefarious trade. this wise and humane policy was approved by the crown, and rojas sincerely and perseveringly strove to make it effective throughout the island; devoting to it for a couple of years the greater part of his time and attention. but unfortunately he found the people, the civil officials, and to a large extent the clergy, arrayed against him. the _auri sacra fames_ possessed the people. slave labor was profitable; therefore they resented and opposed anything which would deprive them of it. especially did they oppose the provision that men should be deprived of their workmen because they had treated them cruelly. fines or other penalties for excessive brutality might be well enough, but to take a man's slaves away from him was, in their opinion, going too far. he was not thus deprived of his horses and cattle. why should he be deprived of his indians? yet in the face of such opposition rojas bravely persevered. he seems to have been animated by two motives, both creditable and honorable. one was that of humanity and justice. it revolted him to see his fellow human beings treated as badly as beasts. the other was that of patriotic policy. he believed that it was bad for cuba, that it corrupted the present and compromised the future, to maintain this abominable system of human slavery. so he flung himself into the work of emancipation and reform with all the resolution and energy of which he was capable. he travelled over the island, personally inspecting the conditions of labor at all points, and personally listening to all complaints, petitions, suggestions and what not that were offered. particularly was he interested in the "experimental village" near bayamo, where natives were trying to work out their own salvation on farms of their own. he corrected as far as possible the unfavorable conditions which had been imposed upon them, and encouraged them to their best efforts. unfortunately the royal government had been misled into sanctioning the imposition upon these people of burdens "almost too heavy to be borne." regardless of the fact that as inexpert beginners in agriculture they were not likely in the first year or two to make large profits from their labor, they were weighed down with far heavier taxation than that to which spanish colonists were subjected. they were required to pay a large tribute in cash as "vassals." they were also required to pay large salaries to various functionaries who were saddled upon them without their desire or need. one was an ecclesiastic, who was charged with protecting their spiritual welfare. another was a layman, who was supposed to be their political guide, philosopher and friend. these overseers probably did them much more harm than good, though rojas seems to have selected for those places the best men he could find. but the result of these impositions was that many of the indians became discouraged and indicated a preference for returning to serfdom or slavery. as free men in the experimental village they had to support themselves and in addition to pay practically all their earnings to the tax-gatherer. it would be better to give all their labor to an employer who in return would at least provide them with the necessaries of existence. on this ground many of the villagers indicated a desire to abandon the experiment and return to the old system. it is probable that some of them were really convinced that this would be best. they were driven to despair by being thrown upon their own resources and then being oppressed with unjust taxes. but there is also reason to suspect that other influences were brought to bear upon many of them. they were threatened with all manner of punishment and persecution if they did not renounce the experiment and ask to be returned to slavery. similar tactics were certainly employed against those outside of the villages. wherever rojas went on his tours of inspection and investigation, he heard of natives who had complaints to make, or petitions to offer, or who wished to be released from serfdom and to enter the free village. but when he reached the spot and sought for these indians, they had disappeared, or had changed their minds. he had little doubt of foul play, that they were smuggled out of sight, or were coerced into action and speech contrary to their real desires; but he was seldom able to prove it, so general was the conspiracy against emancipation. the result was inevitable. rojas lost heart. it is possible that he still clung to his beliefs, but realized that the obstacles to his policy were too great for him to overcome. it may be, on the other hand, that he became convinced that he had erred, that the indians were not as fit for freedom as he had supposed, and that their general emancipation was impracticable. in any case, he gave up the struggle. "before god and his conscience," he said, he was convinced that little if any good had come of the experiment of freedom, and that it would be best to abandon it and to return the indians to the control of well-disposed spaniards; with a proviso that any who wished for freedom and showed fitness for it should be emancipated. a tone of sadness but of sincerity pervaded the report in which he made this recommendation. the king accepted it and approved it, doubtless with the same reluctance and regret which rojas must have had in making it; and that chapter of cuban history was ended. not one of all the early governors of cuba deserves more grateful memory than rojas. not one of them surpassed him in ability, in statesmanship, in executive efficiency, in breadth and penetration of vision in discerning the needs and the possibilities of the island. not one, certainly, surpassed if indeed any rivalled him in integrity, benevolence, and self-sacrificing devotion to duty. velasquez, indeed, occupied the governorship for a longer period, and was associated with more striking events; naturally, being the first and the founder of the line. but not even he had as true a public spirit or as just a conception of the ways and means by which a substantial and prosperous commonwealth was to be developed, as had manuel de rojas. yet no other governor in those times was more shabbily and ungratefully treated than he, both during and after his administration. a wise, just judge, an indefatigable administrator, above all an honest man, he devoted himself to the task of promoting the interests of the island, of its people, with a sincerity and a whole-heartedness unfortunately uncommon in those days or in any days. it is true that he failed to solve the problem of saving the indian natives, and some others which confronted him. but that was not for lack of noble effort or high purpose. it was because he was either honestly misled by those upon whom it was necessary for him to rely, or because he found himself confronted with difficulties too great for a man to overcome alone, and at the same time abandoned if not actually betrayed and antagonized by those who should have aided him and with whose aid he might have been triumphant. he labored at the cost of great self-sacrifice. the salary which was paid to him by the crown was insufficient, and his personal fortune was not large. he was, moreover, too busy with public affairs to engage in gainful occupations of any kind while governor, and he was too honest to enrich himself in any devious ways. he spent his own private means freely for public purposes, not only in official tours of the island, but in paying the expenses of suppressing indian outbreaks and apprehending criminals. the result was that he found himself becoming impoverished. nor did he have so much as the consolation of appreciation. doubtless the king did appreciate, theoretically, his loyalty, efficiency and integrity; but he altogether neglected to manifest his appreciation in a practical manner by giving rojas the encouragement and support which he deserved and which he greatly needed. so far as the people of cuba were concerned, they showed still less regard for him, while the majority of their political and social leaders were openly hostile to him. guzman and his relatives and friends, who were numerous and powerful, in particular neglected no opportunity to thwart, annoy or discredit him. in these circumstances it was not to be wondered at that rojas grew weary of his discouraging and ungrateful task, in which he had not even the satisfaction of feeling that he was accomplishing something, and consequently begged to be relieved of it. he had too high a sense of duty to abandon his place without the permission of the king, and that for some time was withheld. but at last his increasingly importunate appeals had their effect. in october, , the king accepted his resignation, and, it is pleasant to record, paid him a tribute which was unique and which must have been peculiarly gratifying to rojas. that was, that the examination of his accounts should be of an altogether perfunctory and formal character. there was to be no such inquest as all other governors had been compelled to endure. there was really no need of any, but in order to maintain the custom one must be held. but there were no charges, no investigations, no trials. this was the more noteworthy because of the hostility of so many of the people, and above all of rojas's successor. but this exemption from inquest was his sole reward. he had asked to be relieved not merely of the governorship of cuba but also of all public duties, in order that he might give his undivided attention to his own personal and private interests. but this was denied him. the king accepted his resignation of the governorship, but refused to grant him permission to join his brother in peru, where he had hoped to recoup his fortunes. instead, he sent him to jamaica, as a royal auditor of accounts, an arduous and somewhat invidious duty, which rojas accepted doubtless with much reluctance. still more distasteful was the task which followed it, which was to return to cuba to conduct a judicial investigation into the conduct of the royal officials there, including the governor himself, and to try those who seemed deserving of prosecution. to some this would have been a welcome undertaking, since it involved the prosecution for serious misdemeanors of those politicians who had been most hostile to him and had given him the greatest annoyance; and even bringing his arch-enemy, the governor, guzman, under scrutiny. but it was a repugnant task to rojas, who had no vindictiveness in his nature, and who wished above all to get away and remain away from the scenes of his unsuccessful labors and agonizing ordeals. he bore himself, however, with the same firmness, integrity and high spirit that had marked his former services, and at the end departed, with the royal permission, from cuba, not to visit it again. chapter xii the successor of rojas was gonzalo de guzman, who thus returned for a second term of the governorship. that adroit, masterful and often unscrupulous politician had spent his time in spain to good advantage. in various ways and through various methods, not altogether dissociated from the golden treasure which he carried thither from the mines of cuba, he ingratiated himself with a number of influential courtiers, and through them with the royal court itself. before long he was able to secure a revision of the sentence which vadillo had passed upon him, and a reversal of its most harsh decrees and a mitigation of others. thus he was largely vindicated, and was enabled to plume himself upon having received the royal favor. at the same time he conducted, through his faithful retainers, a campaign of intrigue in hispaniola, with the result that the admiral, or vicereine, the widow of diego columbus, appointed him back to his old place as governor of cuba. the appointment was not to be effective, however, until ratified by the king, and such ratification the king for some time delayed to grant. guzman was confident, however, of receiving the royal ratification, and so, without waiting for it, he proceeded to cuba as governor-elect, and began elaborate preparations for resuming office. that was in the midsummer of , more than a year before rojas was permitted to retire. indeed, we may well believe that it was the presence and conduct of guzman that made the island intolerable to rojas. for guzman established himself in a fine house, with a retinue of servants, and attracted to himself most of the practical politicians of cuba, especially those who were inclined to "welcome the coming, speed the parting, guest." they all knew that rojas was to retire, and that guzman was to succeed him; wherefore they paid all possible deference to the former and treated the latter with neglect if not with contempt. the actual change came, as we have already seen, in october, . rojas relinquished the governorship, and guzman resumed it; and a most grievous decline of cuba began. guzman promptly set about serving his own personal interests, rewarding his friends, and punishing all of his opponents who were still within reach. few of them were within reach, however; all who could do so having fled the island, for jamaica or elsewhere. cuba was thus deprived of some of its most useful citizens, while its important public offices were filled with self-seeking politicians. happily, this unworthy and detrimental administration was short lived; and it was ended through what was nothing less than a peaceful revolution in the political status of cuba. for some time there had been controversy and litigation between the heirs of columbus and the spanish crown, concerning the rights, powers and privileges of the former in the west indies. the suits came to an end in the spring of , when a settlement was effected, one of the bases of which was the complete renunciation, by the heirs of columbus, of all right, title or jurisdiction of any kind whatever over the island of cuba. that of course completely separated cuba from the jurisdiction of hispaniola, and made it directly responsible to and dependent upon spain. it was no longer an adjunct to hispaniola, but a colony of spain. now thitherto the governor and most of the other officials in cuba had received their commissions from the admiral or vicereine in hispaniola, or from the supreme court there. such was the case with guzman, though his hispaniolan commission had received the ratification of the king. it was therefore logically held that all commissions thus given in cuba by the hispaniola government became null and void with the emancipation of cuba from dependence upon the other and smaller island. in consequence, guzman's second term in the governorship came to an end in march, . an interregnum ensued. the king was contemplating further reorganization of his american domains, and consequently forebore for some time to appoint a successor to guzman, or indeed to any of the important officials whose terms of office had been involuntarily ended. there had just been, as we have seen, widespread investigations and trials of royal functionaries for frauds, and the king was solicitous to find someone who was indubitably trustworthy, before making further appointments. the result was that the affairs of the island, which had been gravely disturbed and damaged by guzman, went rapidly from bad to worse, and threatened to plunge into utter chaos. nor was the solution of this crisis for the advantage of the island. on the contrary, it was to its still further detriment. once before, in the time of velasquez, cuba had been made to suffer greatly because of the development of mexico and the exodus of many enterprising cubans to that country. that experience was now to be repeated even more disastrously, in the attempted development of florida. that country had long been known. it was placed upon the maps as early as , and it was in , at the time when velasquez was making his first settlements in cuba, that juan ponce de leon obtained a royal charter to discover and to settle the island of bimini, as it was called, on which there was reputed to be a fountain of extraordinary curative powers, capable of restoring to the aged all the vigor of youth. actual colonization of florida was not undertaken, however, until , in which enterprise ponce de leon himself was wounded in a fight with indians, and came to cuba to die. again in panfilo de narvaez led a large expedition from cuba to florida, in which he and all but four of his six hundred men were lost in indian fighting and in a great gulf storm. [illustration: hernando de soto] there next came upon the scene a far more formidable personage than any of these, or indeed than any who had visited cuba since columbus with the exception of cortez. this was none other than hernando de soto. like many another famous spanish conquistador, he was an impoverished nobleman of estremadura, who had been in youth a protégé of the infamous pedrarias d'avila, the constructive murderer of balboa and the scourge of darien. through the bounty of d'avila he had passed through a university; he had gone to darien with his patron in ; and in he had gone with reenforcements to pizarro in peru. there he played a great part, personally seizing the inca monarch, atahualpa, and discovering the mountain pass which led to the treasure city of cuzco. incidentally he seized for himself a vast fortune, with which he returned to spain, where he married the daughter of d'avila and for a time settled down in splendid state. when, however, cabeza de vaca, one of the four survivors of the last expedition of narvaez, reached spain with stories of the marvellous wealth of florida, de soto's adventurous spirit, or his cupidity, was again aroused. he disposed of part of his estates, purchased and armed four ships, recruited a force of foot soldiers and horsemen, and sought from the king a commission to explore, conquer and colonize florida. in him the king apparently saw, as he imagined, the solution of the problem, what to do about cuba. he accordingly joined florida and cuba together, politically, making de soto adelantado of the former and governor of the latter. with this commission de soto sailed from spain in april, , bound first for cuba and thence for florida. the expedition called for a time at the canary islands, where its members were richly entertained by the governor of gomera. there de soto's wife, the lady isabel, engaged the beautiful daughter of the governor to accompany her as her chief lady-in-waiting, a choice which led to some interesting personal complications, actually affecting the progress of the expedition. it was on june , , that de soto arrived at santiago with probably the most imposing fleet that had ever yet visited that port or the waters of cuba. it comprised more than a score of vessels, carrying more than a thousand soldiers. this armada comprised the galleons _san cristobal_, _buena fortuna_, _magdalena_, _conception_, _san juan_, _san antonio_, and _santa barbara_; one caravel (a three-masted vessel), two light brigs (two masted), and about a dozen smaller craft. juan de anasco was chief pilot of the expedition, and the captains were nuñez tobar, luis morosco de alvarado, andres de vasconcelas, arias tinoco, alfonso robo de cardenosa, diego garcia, and pedro calderon. among the commanders of the troops were carlos enriques, micer de espinola, dionisio de paris, rodrigo gallego, francisco del poso, and diego banuelos. nor was the propagation of the true faith neglected. it was entrusted to a mission comprising four priests and a number of dominican friars, under the leadership of the friar luis de soto, a cousin of the generalissimo of the expedition. santiago was naturally selected for the entry to cuba seeing that it was still the official capital and that de soto was already commissioned governor. there was a narrow escape from shipwreck in entering the narrow and somewhat tortuous mouth of the great harbor, after which the governor was received by the municipal functionaries with all the pomp and dignity of which the capital was capable. tidings of the coming of the new governor had spread throughout the island and people of consequence from all parts had flocked to santiago to welcome him, to seek to ingratiate themselves with him and to celebrate what they fondly hoped would prove to be the beginning of a new and splendid era in the history of cuba. it is recorded that the gentlemen of the town sent down to the boat landing a fine roan horse for de soto to ride and a richly caparisoned mule for doña isabel. he and all his company were lodged in the most luxurious quarters the town could afford and were hospitably entertained without cost to themselves. santiago had at this time about eighty houses which were described as spacious and well appointed. about half of them were of masonry and tile and the remainder of boards and thatch. there were also many attractive country estates surrounding the city. the day following his landing de soto formally assumed his authority as governor, and bartolome de ortiz became alcalde mayor of santiago. scarcely had he done this, however, when news came that a french corsair had attacked havana, ransacked the church, and burned a number of houses; after which he had sailed away. de soto at once sent mateo aceituna to the scene, with a company of soldiers and artisans, with instructions to rebuild the houses and then to begin the construction of a fort which would serve as an adequate defence for the town. having done this, he sent lady isabel, escorted by his nephew don carlos, to havana by sea, with a strong squadron, while he himself with the remainder of his company set out on horseback for a tour of the islands. he first went to bayamo, and thence to trinidad, and puerto principe. from the latter place he went in a canoe to the great country estate of vasco porcallo de figueroa at camaguey, there to get news of lady isabel's arrival at havana. thence he proceeded to sancti spiritus, which at that time was a place of only about thirty houses. half of his company landed there, and half went on to trinidad, which was a still smaller place of not more than twenty houses, though it contained a hospital for the poor, the only such institution on the whole island. thence he proceeded to havana without finding another town or settlement of any kind on the entire road. during his stay in havana de soto deprived nuñez tobar of his rank as captain-general and gave it instead to vasco porcallo de figueroa, because tobar had made love to doña isabel's lady-in-waiting, the daughter of the governor of gomera, and indeed had seduced her. in spite, or perhaps because of this punishment tobar thereupon married the girl and afterward joined de soto's expedition to florida in a subordinate capacity. there can be no question that hernando de soto came to cuba with a prestige far surpassing that of any of his predecessors. he was in the prime of manhood and at the height of his fame. he had been the hero of great adventures and of marvellous achievements, and was possessed of great wealth. he was not only governor of cuba but also adelantado of florida, which meant all the lands at the north of the gulf, from the atlantic to mexico, and thus, it was confidently assumed, cuba would become the chief province and santiago the capital city, of an empire exceeding in extent and wealth both mexico and peru. these brilliant anticipations were, however, doomed to speedy and most crushing disappointment. it soon became clear that de soto regarded cuba as a mere stepping stone to florida, and that he was not merely willing to sacrifice the island's interests to the gratification of his continental ambitions, but had from the first been intent upon so doing. he paid little attention to the representations which were made to him in behalf of cuba, or indeed to the duties of his office as governor. instead, all his thought seemed to be given and all his efforts directed, to preparations for proceeding on his way to the alluring regions beyond the gulf. moreover, he tempted into joining him in that enterprise many of the richest and most forceful men of cuba. among these was vasco de figueroa, who had been a comrade of velasquez. he had settled in camaguey as early as , and had grown very rich. we may say, indeed, that he was the richest and most influential man in all that part of cuba. he eagerly accepted an invitation to join the expedition, as de soto's first lieutenant, and he drew along with him many other substantial men from camaguey and other parts of the island. nor was the island thus to suffer for the sake of florida, merely as a whole. the capital, santiago, was specially to suffer. its traditions and its long-established interests were nothing to de soto, who looked for nothing but to promote his florida venture. manifestly, santiago was no place to serve as a base of operations to the northward, so he presently transferred his headquarters to havana. that city had been founded in on the south coast, near what is now batabano, but a few years later had been transferred by migration of populace and name to its present commanding site at the north. in it had been raided and partly destroyed by fire, by buccaneers, but at the time of de soto's coming was rapidly being rebuilt and restored to greater importance than before. so a few weeks after his arrival at santiago, in the early part of august, , de soto ruthlessly closed his mansion at santiago and removed his whole household to havana. his household and his foot soldiers were sent thither in his vessels, of which he now had five. he himself with his horsemen travelled overland, vasco de figueroa acting as guide. the beauty and riches of the island seem not greatly to have impressed the great adventurer; certainly not enough to withhold him for one moment from his quest. mountain and plain were alike to him merely the road toward florida. it was late in december before all members of the expedition were assembled at havana. there it was necessary to remain a while, to refit the vessels, gather provisions, and prepare for an adventure into an unknown and potentially hostile wilderness. additional ships were sought, and more men; and recruits came flocking thither eagerly from all parts of the island. meanwhile, a scouting party of fifty, with one vessel, was sent to the florida coast, to discover a desirable spot for the landing of the whole expedition. it returned in february, , with the report that no suitable place could be found, and with a recommendation against undertaking the venture. this incensed de soto, and he made the men hasten back to florida and not return until they had found that which was the object of their quest. their second expedition lasted three months. at the end of that time they reappeared at havana, disembarked, fell upon their knees, and on their knees made their way from the wharf to the church, where they offered thanks for their deliverance. this was their fulfilment of a vow which they had made when they were in imminent danger of death; and they would not so much as speak to the governor or to anyone until the pious act was completed. they then reported to de soto that amid great perils they had found a place which would be suitable for his purpose. they had named it the bay of espiritu santo, as it is to this day called, on the west coast of florida. to this place accordingly de soto hastened, at the end of may, , with nine vessels, more than men beside sailors, and half as many horses; leaving his wife at havana as acting governor in his absence, with juan de rojas as her chief assistant. vasco de figueroa soon returned, disgusted with florida, which he described as a land of interminable swamps, but he left his son with de soto to serve as lieutenant in his stead. then gomez arias, brother of lady isabel de soto, also returned, with glowing reports of the beauty and wealth of florida, and it was proclaimed throughout all cuba that the expedition was succeeding beyond all expectation, and that florida was the garden of the world. the effect was to excite the spaniards of cuba with eagerness to leave their homes in quest of fortunes in this new land. accordingly, when in february, , diego maldonado came from florida to havana, to obtain recruits, arms and provisions, there was no lack of response to his call. it seemed as though almost every able-bodied man in cuba had caught the florida fever, and went flocking to maldonado's standard. eight great ship-loads of men, horses and provisions were quickly obtained, and sailed away for florida, leaving behind them three classes of people in cuba. there were those who lamented that there had not been room enough on the ships to take them, too. there were those who lamented that cuba was thus being stripped and impoverished to enrich another country, if not in a vain and profitless quest. there were also those, the surviving indian natives, who rejoiced, because the spaniards were all leaving cuba, so that the natives could come to their own again. but all three classes were mistaken in their views of the situation. maldonado and gomez arias sailed away with their eight ships, to meet de soto at an appointed place on the florida coast. months later they returned without having met him or having been able to ascertain any information of his whereabouts. that was in . in they sailed again to meet him at the same place; with like result. in they made a third such venture, and explored the entire coast from the southern extremity of florida to mexico. they posted messages upon trees, rocks and headlands. they sent indian runners inland to inquire for the adventurers. they resorted to every effort they could devise to find their missing chief, but all in vain. meantime at havana the lady isabel awaited his return, with unfaltering loyalty and unshaken hope. bartholomew ortiz, alcalde mayor, by her lord's appointment, relieved her of the technical duties of gubernatorial rule; which was well, for there was much trouble abroad in the island. it was thus left for her to watch and wait for the coming of the ship which never came. at morning and at evening, day after day, she paced the little pathway on the crest of a fort which her husband had begun to build, the beginning of la fuerza--of which we shall hear much more. hour by hour she gazed from that parapet northward, not on guard for hostile sail, but to espy the first glimpse of one returning from the land of flowers. there is no more touching picture in all the early history of cuba than that of this devoted woman, scanning the northern horizon in vain for the appearance of one whose restless and adventurous body was sleeping the last sleep in the bed of the father of waters. [illustration: la fuerza havana's oldest and most famous fortress and the oldest inhabited building in the western hemisphere. the construction of it was prolonged through the administrations of many governors and was for years the chief issue of political contention in the island. it was long the governor's residence as well as a fortress; from it hernando de soto set out for the exploration of florida and the discovery of the mississippi river, and from its ramparts his wife, doña isabel, long but vainly maintained her daily vigil for his return.] news came at last, to end in grief her agonizing vigil. it was near the end of that some three hundred weary and worn survivors of de soto's expedition reached panuco, on the mexican coast, with tidings of their leader's death and the destruction of all the rest of the party. they had wandered through what is now the state of georgia northward as far as the tennessee mountains, thence back to mobile bay, in alabama, thence northwest to the mississippi, and to the ouachita, or washita, in arkansas. while thence descending the mississippi, in june, , de soto had died, and his body had been sunk in the great river. the remainder of his company, led by luis de alvarado, had continued down the mississippi river to the gulf, and thence sailed along the coast to panuco. thus ended the career of one of the most famous of all the spanish explorers; and thus ended another brief but disastrous chapter in cuban history. the island had been drained of men, horses, supplies of all kinds; for its population was still so small that the loss of a few hundred of its best men and horses was a serious deprivation. its own domestic interests had been neglected. its government had become inefficient. the indians, taking advantage of the weakness of the spaniards, had begun to cherish hopes of regaining their old freedom, and in some places had risen forcibly to seek that end, with the effect of enraging the spaniards against them even to the extreme of resolving upon either their complete enslavement or their extermination. indeed, serious trouble arose with the indians during de soto's brief stay in the island. shortly before his arrival there had been an outbreak of the natives at baracoa, which resulted in the partial destruction of that town by burning. towns built entirely of sun-dried thatch were easily burned. hearing of this, de soto in almost his first official utterance in cuba authorized the sending of strong expeditions against the natives, to hunt them down and destroy them ruthlessly. the offending indians were all cimarrons, or "wild" indians who had never been under the repartimiento system, and who expected and solicited the "tame" indians to rise and join them. the latter not only refused to do this, however, but offered to go out and fight and subdue the cimarrons, provided they were permitted to do so without being accompanied by spanish troops; to which the authorities unfortunately would not agree. de soto sent all available men out against the indians, and suppressed them, for the time. but as soon as he left santiago for havana, taking with him all the fighting men in the eastern end of the island, the cimarrons sprang to arms again behind him and became more menacing than ever. they again threatened baracoa, and were active even in the suburbs of santiago itself. the departure of vasco de figueroa from camaguey was disastrous. he had been vigorous and unsparing in his suppression of even the slightest uprising, and in his absence the indians were freed from the greatest restraining influence in that part of the island. the general confusion of affairs was further aggravated by the intrigues of two marplots. one of these was gonzalo de guzman, who had remained in the island after his removal from office, and who was never weary in mischief-making. he kept himself in frequent communication with the government in spain, and made all sorts of complaints against de soto and against the florida enterprise. doubtless he was right in saying that the taking of so many fighting men out of cuba for florida endangered the peace and safety of the island; though we must think that he exaggerated the condition of cuba when he wrote to the spanish government that two-thirds of the island had become depopulated, and all of the towns in the central part of it had been or were in imminent danger of being burned. the other trouble-maker was the new bishop, diego sarmiento, who had succeeded bishop ramirez, deceased. he maintained a large establishment of slaves, and continued the political policy of his predecessor. he had arrived in cuba almost simultaneously with de soto, and inclined toward the policy of the latter in respect to florida. a strong governor might have saved even this unfortunate and unpromising situation. but there was none. lady isabel died of grief a few months after learning of her husband's fate, and for a time thereafter there was no actual governor at all. de soto had been empowered to appoint an alcalde mayor to serve as his substitute while he was out of the island, if he so desired. he did thus appoint bartholomew ortiz; a good enough man but aged and infirm, and quite unable to cope with the problems which confronted him. he found himself involved in a vigorous rivalry between santiago and havana in the matter of fortifications. de soto had begun the construction of an earthwork fort at the entrance to santiago. then when he went across to havana he ordered the building of a strong fort there of stone masonry. this of course aroused the jealousy of santiago, whose indignant citizens pointed out that their city was and always would be the capital of the island, and was therefore at least as well entitled to a stone fort as havana. the sacking and burning of havana, and of carthagena and other places on the continent, alarmed them, lest santiago should suffer a like fate. their insistence was finally rewarded in the building of a stone fort near the mouth of the harbor. chapter xiii bartholomew ortiz was at last, on his earnest entreaty, relieved of his duties as alcalde mayor in the fall of , and for some time the insular government was again without a head. but in august, , since nothing had been heard from or of de soto for three years, the crown assumed that he was dead and that his office was vacant. it therefore appointed juan de avila to be not alcalde mayor but governor; permitting the title of adelantado of florida to fall into desuetude. the new governor was a young lawyer, whose chief recommendation was that he was a member of the de avila family, a relative of lady isabel de soto and of her father, the formidable pedrarias d'avila. he seems to have been doubtful of his own ability to administer the office successfully, and therefore reluctant to assume its duties. however, he finally came to cuba, arriving at santiago at the beginning of february, , nearly six months after his appointment. he was, of course, regularly appointed and commissioned by the crown, with the full powers of governor, and for those reasons he was received at santiago with grateful rejoicings. the people of that city and indeed of all cuba had become tired of having an absentee governor and an alcalde mayor in his place. juan de avila's first official act of importance was to make the usual examination of his predecessor's affairs. this was a slight task, because of the short time in which de soto had actually administered the governorship, and nothing wrong appears to have been found. the affairs of all other officials were likewise in good order. he then turned his attention to the question of the indians; after which, the deluge. the royal government had for the time acquiesced in the ruthless policy of de soto. at least it had not vetoed nor opposed it. but now it had reconsidered the matter, and had resumed its former and better policy, of treating the natives justly and kindly, and giving them their freedom. perhaps it was moved to do this partly through horror at what pedrarias d'avila had done at darien, in all but exterminating an entire race, and was minded to make atonement by requiring the young kinsman of that "timour of the indies" to do the opposite in cuba. at any rate orders were sent to cuba that there should be no more enslavement of the natives in gold mining. in fact, they were not to be employed in mining at all. now as mining was practically the only work in which the indians were engaged, the effect of that order, if enforced, would have been very marked. it would have stopped gold mining, and would have left the natives in idleness. in fact, it was not enforced. the governor received it, and transmitted it to the various local officials for promulgation and enforcement; and they ignored it. presently the governor wanted to know why the order had not been obeyed, and was curtly told that it would have been disastrous to the industries and interests of the island. this he reported to the crown, asking for further directions. the reply was a reminder that the new bishop, sarmiento, was protector of the indians, and that the governor and he should cooperate for their welfare and for the enforcement of the decrees in their behalf. but the people were no readier to listen to the bishop than to the governor; particularly since that ecclesiastic was himself a slave-holder. indeed, the municipal council of santiago formally protested against his appointment as protector of the indians and refused to recognize his authority. there were some actual conflicts with force and arms between the two factions, in which the followers of the local government appear to have triumphed over the fewer adherents of the bishop, and from which no profit nor advantage of any kind accrued to the unhappy objects of the strife. when these things were reported to the king and his advisers, there was much indignation, and new and peremptory orders were sent to the governor, that involuntary service by the indians was immediately to be abolished, and that the natives were to be free to work for whom they pleased, or not to work at all. moreover, they were to be treated in all respects as well as the spaniards themselves. this radical decree seems to have impressed the governor and bishop as going a little too far, and an appeal was made by common consent to the council for the indies, in spain. that body was divided in opinion, but the majority of it inclined to a modification of the order, to which the king agreed. the governor and the bishop were directed to act together for the welfare of the natives, with a view to granting them ultimately entire liberty and equal rights. there was to be no more slavery. all the indian slaves who had been brought to cuba from other islands or from the mainland were to be released and returned to their homes. to hold such slaves, or to engage in the slave trade, was made a grave penal offense. the native cubans who were held under the repartimiento system were not immediately to be released, but they were not to be transferred from one master to another, and upon the death of their master they were not to be bequeathed as chattels to his heirs, but were to be released. moreover, if any of the proprietors were proved to be cruel to their native workmen, or neglectful of their interests, the natives were to be released from their authority and set at liberty. in all cases, the natives were to receive fair wages for their labor, and were not to be compelled to do any kind of work for which they were not suited or to which they objected. finally, it was forbidden for the governor, the bishop, or any other functionary of state or church to hold native cuban indians in bondage, though negro slavery was apparently still permitted. these regulations, put forward by the king and the council for the indies, were actually more far-reaching than the order of the crown which had been disputed, though they would not take effect so abruptly. the governor received them, and himself had them publicly proclaimed throughout the island; with prodigious effect. the whole island rose against them. municipal councils and others officials, as well as planters and gold miners, protested against them, and pleaded for at least postponement of their enforcement until they could have an opportunity to appeal to the crown and to the council for the indies against them. to this plea for delay, de avila acceded; to his own subsequent undoing, as we shall presently see. his own brother, alfonso de avila, turned against him, and went to spain as the chief spokesman of the opponents of the new rules. while the question of the indians was thus held in suspension, de avila turned his attention to other matters, largely matrimonial and domestic. on coming to cuba, a young bachelor, he made his home in the house of the wealthy widow of pedro de paz. this lady, who had otherwise been much married, and who was by birth a member of the formidable guzman family, whose name she now bore, was past fifty years old, or about twice the age of the young governor. indeed, she had sons and daughters of about de avila's age. it was therefore assumed to be quite permissible for the governor to live in her house. the arrangement proved in the end, however, to be disastrous. it was probably the lady's intention from the beginning to take the young man for her husband--her fourth or fifth. at any rate, his domestic association with her, while it could not compromise her reputation, did so compromise his that he could get none of the eligible young women of cuba to marry him, although he sought the hands of several of them. so after a time, despairing of any other bride, and doubtless much impressed by the wealth of his mature hostess, he married her; and thereafter was her slave. [illustration: san lazaro watch tower, havana built ] for the remainder of the ill-starred administration the lady was the real governor. a large part of her fortune was in indian slaves, or in enterprises dependent upon their labor. therefore it was she who was foremost in opposing the enforcement of the decrees for their emancipation. it was owing to her influence that de avila acquiesced in their suspension. then, when the matter was being appealed, it was she who constrained de avila to leave santiago for a tour of the island, ostensibly for inspection, but in reality to get away from santiago, where the social atmosphere was not agreeable, and to settle in some more advantageous place. that new place was found at havana. since the burning of it by french buccaneers that city had been rebuilt in a much more attractive style than santiago, and society there was more hospitable to the governor's wife. a plausible excuse for settling there was, moreover, readily found. it was necessary, for the protection of the place against another french attack, that the valiant governor should remain there in person. for the furtherance of this purpose, he procured the free granting to him of a choice tract of land, and also the free gift of materials for building him a fine mansion. whether the citizens of havana gave the materials willingly, for the sake of having the governor of the island living among them, or under some sort of compulsion, may not certainly be declared. two traditions have been extant. one was, that they gave the materials under compulsion, and that for that reason the governor's mansion was called the "house of fear." the other was, that they gave them willingly, even eagerly, because of actual dread of another french descent; thinking that if the governor himself lived there, he would take all possible measures for the defence of the place; and that it was for that reason that it was called the "house of fear." after completing the house and living there for some time, however, de avila deemed it politic to return to santiago. his absence from the latter place had given rise to great dissatisfaction there and throughout all the eastern part of the island, where of course the majority of the population, of wealth and of political and other influence were still to be found. indeed, protests had been lodged with the crown against what was described as the governor's abandonment of the lawful seat of government of the island. suspicions of his unworthiness had already strongly arisen at court, and orders were sent for the supreme court of hispaniola, which still had jurisdiction in cuba, to investigate his conduct. the report was unfavorable, and in consequence the crown summarily appointed antonio chaves to succeed him as governor; directing chaves to conduct a searching inquest into de avila's administration without regard to the report already made by the agent of the supreme court of hispaniola. the sequel was the greatest public scandal that had thus far marred the history of cuba. it was at the beginning of october, , that antonio chaves was commissioned to be governor of cuba, and it was at the beginning of june in the following year that he arrived at santiago and entered upon the duties of his office. the first task was to investigate his predecessor, and this he performed with a thoroughness which seemed ferocious and which certainly suggests either some personal hatred of de avila or a natural desire to be cruel and ruthless. he charged de avila with having committed malfeasance of office for the furtherance of his wife's interests; with having engaged in commercial and industrial enterprises himself, to the detriment of public interests; with having established monopolies for enriching himself or his wife; with having both given and accepted bribes; with having intimidated local officials and the people; and with having, largely at the instance of his wife, neglected to enforce the order of the king for the emancipation of the natives. it is quite probable that de avila was guilty of most of these charges, particularly of those in which his wife was concerned. certain it is that antonio chaves set about trying to prove them with a strenuous zeal which had never before been displayed. one of his first acts was to seize and search the governor's house; not merely in its public or semi-public offices but in its most private parts. the wardrobe of the governor's wife was ransacked, the furniture examined, the walls and floors sounded and even broken in quest of concealed treasure. to some of these proceedings the governor, or ex-governor, and his wife, too, attempted to offer physical resistance, but they were overpowered and bound while the search went on. their servants, or slaves, were questioned and even, it is said, threatened with torture if they did not tell all they knew. under such compulsion they told of bars of gold hidden underneath the floor of a country house; which were found. chaves went so far as to order de avila to be chained fast to a post in the market place, where fugitive slaves had formerly been chained, and the former governor was actually subjected to this indignity, though he had not yet been convicted and sentenced by a court of justice. but this was carrying prosecution too far. it was regarded as not prosecution but persecution. there was a reaction of popular sentiment in favor of de avila, and he was assisted to escape from his bonds and to find sanctuary in the franciscan monastery. after a time he undertook to get away, to spain, but was quickly detected and recaptured by chaves. after some further controversy, chaves discreetly agreed that de avila might go to spain, to defend himself if he could before the council for the indies; doubtless expecting that such defence would be in vain because of de avila's offences against that council's decrees. so de avila departed for spain, with his advocates and his accusers on the same ship. most fortunately for him, his wife also went, carrying with her an ample store of gold and gems which had escaped the search and confiscation of chaves. her conduct in this emergency indicates that she had a sincere devotion to her young husband, in addition, of course, to a desire to protect her own material fortune. certain it is that she constituted herself his chief and most effective champion, freely expending in his behalf the gold which she had taken to spain. she testified that all the property which he was accused of having unlawfully acquired was in fact hers and not his, possessed by her before she was married to him, and that if he had in any sense acquired it, it was solely through having married her; and there was no law against a governor's marrying a rich wife. her argument prevailed. the litigation in spain lasted for several years, during part of which time de avila was in prison. but in the end he was released; the heavy fines which had been levied against him were remitted; and the sentence of perpetual banishment from cuba was revoked. thereupon the devoted couple returned in triumph to cuba, with a great retinue of servants, and reestablished themselves at santiago. they held aloof from political affairs, and gave their attention to an exceedingly profitable commerce between cuba and other west india islands and spain; which happy state of affairs lasted until de avila's death, a dozen years later. he left behind him the reputation of being one of the worst of cuban governors, not so much because of any inherent viciousness as because of his weakness of character and his complete subservience to the often sordid and sometimes unscrupulous doings of his wife. that there was any gain for cuba in the substitution of antonio chaves for juan de avila is scarcely, however, to be maintained. on the contrary, there was probably some loss. it was a substitution of king stork for king log. de avila had been weak and passive. chaves was strong and aggressive; as his campaign against his predecessor demonstrated. in point of morals there was probably little to choose between them. so far as enforcement of the laws concerning the natives was concerned, chaves was worse than de avila. for de avila personally wished to enforce them, but was dissuaded from so doing by the influence of his wife and the almost unanimous demands of the officials and people. chaves, on the other hand, appears to have been personally opposed to all emancipation laws, and inclined to subject the natives to ruthless slavery. although he had savagely attacked de avila for acquiescing in the suspension or postponement of the royal decrees, chaves himself went even further in the same direction. he declined to enforce the laws, protested against them, and petitioned for their repeal on the ground that they would be ruinous to the material welfare of the island. the rule against employment of natives in the mines was especially obnoxious to him, and he advised the crown that unless it were repealed, together with all other such measures, the island would soon be "possessed of the devil." seeing that chaves was now doing the very thing that he had condemned his predecessor for doing, the king was disgusted with him, and sent him the sharpest kind of a reprimand, reminding him of his gross inconsistency and bidding him to enforce the law without further ado. chaves pretended to obey. in fact, he promptly replied that he was obeying. but he obeyed only in pretence. he did not scruple to declare--in cuba--that he was opposed to giving the natives their freedom. he did not consider them fit for it. why? because they were not christians, and if set free they would not become christians, and therefore would infallibly be damned eternally. therefore to save their souls from hell fire, their bodies must be enslaved, so that they could find salvation through being physically compelled to conform with the external practices of christianity. particularly necessary was it, he argued, for this system of spiritual salvation through corporeal bondage to prevail in the provinces of trinidad, sancti spiritus and puerto del principe, because they had no agricultural interests but were dependent upon mining, and if they could not compel the indians to work in the mines, they would be ruined. this logic, more ingenious than ingenuous, did not favorably impress the king, nor was he better pleased with chaves's proposal that the indians should be made free in name only, and that while traffic in them as chattels should be forbidden, they should in fact remain in involuntary domestic servitude. another sharp reprimand was accordingly sent to chaves, with an intimation that something worse might follow; to which warning the governor was blind and deaf. accordingly, the blow soon fell. we have hitherto heard much of lopez hurtado, the crabbed, surly and cantankerous old royal treasurer, with his impregnable honesty. it was quite impossible that he should countenance even passively such conduct as that of chaves. so at the end of he sent to the king an appalling indictment of the governor, charging him with all manner of public crimes and private vices. he declared that chaves was enriching himself at the expense of the people, and that he was neglecting public business for private enterprises, that he was permitting his subordinates to practice extortion and oppression, that he was ill-treating and persecuting honest men, and that he was corrupting the women of the island; all of which was probably true. the king acted promptly. chaves had been appointed governor in october, , for a term of four years, at a salary of a thousand ducats a year. he had now, at the end of , been in office three years and more; though he claimed that his term ran for four years from june, , when he actually took office. however, there was no tenure of office law to keep him in his place beyond the royal pleasure; certainly not to protect him from removal for cause. so the supreme court of hispaniola was directed to investigate him, and gonzalo perez de angulo was appointed governor in his stead. the court of hispaniola sent geronimo de aguayo to cuba to make a private investigation of the governor's doings; hurtado agreeing to pay the expenses out of his own pocket. aguayo came to santiago in april, , while chaves was absent at havana, planning to remove the seat of government to that city. three months were spent in the investigation, and then aguayo reported to the court a docket of about three hundred charges against chaves, some of which were serious enough but many of which were altogether trifling. the court decided to take no action upon them, but to hold them for the new governor, angulo, to use as the basis of the investigation which he, according to law and precedent, would at once make into his predecessor's administration. gonzalo de angulo had been appointed at the beginning of september, , but did not at once come to the west indies. he reached hispaniola in the summer of , shortly after aguayo had made his report, and he remained there for some time, considering the report and conferring with the members of the supreme court. finally, at the beginning of november, he proceeded to santiago and assumed the governorship. he entered upon the investigation, using aguayo's three hundred charges as the basis of it, despite the protest of chaves that aguayo had been a prejudiced investigator, moved by political and even pecuniary considerations and intent not upon discovering the truth but merely upon defaming him (chaves) to the fullest possible extent. the result of the new governor's inquest was that at the beginning of july, , chaves was arrested and sent as a prisoner to spain, for trial there upon a multitude of accusations. these were partly grave and partly--mostly--frivolous. in the former category was the charge that chaves had refused or at least failed to enforce royal decrees for the enfranchisement of the natives. that was a very serious matter, apparently, and there was no question that it was true. indeed, chaves admitted it. but, he said, some of these decrees had been suspended, there had been pleas for the suspension of others, officials had failed to proclaim some, and the hispaniola court had interfered with others; so that the whole business was in a hopeless tangle and he really could not determine what he ought to do. this argument impressed the spanish authorities, and they consequently dismissed that and other like charges against him. but when it came to other charges, they could not be got rid of so easily. thus, he had refused to pay an apothecary for a dose of medicine. he had called hurtado's nephew a jew! he had called certain citizens "conspirators" because they were forming some sort of a secret organization. he had arrested a priest for acting disrespectfully toward him. these were indeed serious matters; particularly when the irate hurtado produced voluminous affidavits, from parents, physicians, clergy, and whom not, to prove that his nephew like himself was a good christian. so for these things chaves was thrown into prison, and even, it is said, bound with heavy fetters, until he should pay the fines which were imposed upon him. it must be recorded in chaves's favor that he was unable to pay these fines. indeed, he seems not to have had means sufficient to employ a lawyer to defend him, wherefore he was compelled to conduct his own case; which he was quite competent to do, being a licentiate of the bar. there was, then, of course no thought of his being able to influence the course of justice by the use of money, as de avila was supposed to have done. whether he was actually so poor, or whether his fortune had been so invested in cuba that he was unable at once to realize upon it, does not appear. in charity we may accept the former theory, as the more creditable to him. at any rate, after two years of litigation and imprisonment, he secured a final reduction of the fines levied against him to a little more than , maravedi, which he was required to pay within a year. this trifling amount he contrived to raise and so regained his freedom; going thereafter back to cuba to settle up his personal affairs there, and thence to peru, to engage no more in cuban politics. apart from his prosecution of chaves, the first act of gonzalo de angulo on assuming the governorship was to attempt a radical solution of the indian problem. this he did by proclaiming the full and universal emancipation of all natives, however and by whomsoever held. seeing how strenuously and vociferously similar action had been resisted only a few years before, as sure to be ruinous to the island, it is worthy of remark that this provoked no remonstrances and caused no economic disturbance. the explanation is simple. the former proposals for emancipation included slaves who had been brought to cuba from other lands, while this one applied only to natives. now the latter, through disease, fighting, and other causes, had been steadily decreasing in numbers, until they were now practically a negligible quantity. they probably numbered not more than twenty-five hundred in the entire island. it really mattered little, from an industrial point of view, whether they were enslaved or free. they were in fact set free, in good faith, and then practically disappeared. they did not relapse into primitive barbarism, but they lived in squalor, most of them, and gradually died out. not all of them, however, suffered such a fate. some settled on lands near if not actually among the spanish colonists, adopted the ways of civilization, and prospered. they acquired freehold of land and houses, kept herds of cattle, built ships and engaged in commerce. some of them intermarried with spanish families, and the offspring of such unions often rose to honorable rank in society and the state. the question of slavery was not by any means disposed of by this emancipation of the native indians. there was a much larger number of slaves in the island who had been brought thither from other countries, including both insular and continental indians and african negroes. governor angulo was directed to order their emancipation and repatriation at the same time with the others. but he withheld the decree. these foreign slaves were far more numerous than the natives and were consequently more important to industry and commerce. they had not been simply "assigned" to owners, like the cuban indians, but had been purchased outright for cash, like any other merchandise, and were legally as much the property of their owners as land, houses or cattle. in view of this circumstance, angulo declined to proclaim their emancipation. chapter xiv the administration of gonzalo perez de angulo marked the lowest point in the early history of cuba. that was not because of the character of his administration, which was indeed better than some of its predecessors, but because various processes militating against the progress and prosperity of the island then reached their culmination. foremost among these was the migration to florida, mexico, peru and other lands, which were richer, or were reputed to be richer, than the pearl of the antilles. cuba contained no such cities and treasures as those of mexico and peru; no such traditions as that of florida's fountain of youth pertained to her. the island had been explored from end to end, and its resources were known; though by no means appreciated. the adventurers of those days were not inclined to engage in agriculture, even in so fertile a land as cuba, when the gold and gems of the incas were within reach. with the decline and practical disappearance of the indians, and the increasing difficulties of the african or other slave trade, the scarcity of labor disinclined the spanish settlers even to raise cattle. the middle of the sixteenth century saw, therefore, a menacing emigration from cuba to other lands which threatened to leave the island uninhabited. statistics of those days are scanty and not altogether trustworthy. it was the custom to report merely the number of householders or land-owners or heads of families in a place, leaving it to be estimated how many members each family contained. an exact census of the island in angulo's time would astonish the reader of to-day with the meagreness of the settlements which had been effected in the course of forty years. of the seven cities which velasquez had founded--they were called cities, and we must through courtesy retain the name--santiago was still the largest, and was the capital. it probably contained at the period of which we are writing fewer than five hundred spaniards and other europeans. de avila saw only two hundred assembled to welcome him on his arrival as governor. the number of houses and other buildings was less than a hundred. the first town hall and church which were built there were structures of logs and thatch, which were burned by a fire which destroyed most of the place in . four years later the franciscan monastery and other buildings shared a like fate. the spanish government then urged the erection of buildings of stone with tiled roofs, and a few such were erected. at the end of guzman's second administration there were perhaps a dozen such, of which guzman himself owned two. the harbor boasted a single wharf or pier, of logs and earth, near which for protection two small cannon were placed behind an earthwork. such was the cuban capital in . three years later, in , a french privateer entered the harbor, silenced the two cannon, and landed a company of four hundred men, who outnumbered the entire population of the place. these freebooters took possession of santiago and lived there at their ease, at the expense of the people, during the whole month of july. then, having exacted from the inhabitants a ransom of what would be about $ , in modern currency, they departed, leaving the place uninjured save for the depletion of its people's purses. following this visitation there was a numerous exodus of the inhabitants, to bayamo and other places; some leaving the island altogether. havana was at this time the second city of the island, and was steadily rising toward first place. it had been the last of the seven cities to be founded by velasquez, and was now occupying its third and final site. it was first planted in july, , near the mouth of the guines or mayabeque river, on the south shore of cuba; that shore then being the favorite part of the island for the sake of trade with jamaica and the south american continent. but the location was unhealthful, the swarms of mosquitoes particularly being intolerable, and two years later the city was transferred almost directly across the island to the north shore. this second site was near the mouth of the almendares river, near the present town of vedado, and was found to be vastly preferable to the former one. it was impossible, however, that the superb harbor on which the city now fronts should be neglected. it had been discovered in by sebastian de ocampo, while circumnavigating the island, and had been called carenas. accordingly in the young city of havana, bearing the indian name of that province of the island, was transported thither. credible tradition has it that the first meeting of the municipal council was held under a huge ceiba tree, and that mass was first celebrated at the same sylvan spot, the site of the tree now being marked by the building known as the templete, in the heart of the great city. two fine historical paintings by the artist escobar, representing the two gatherings named, hang upon the walls of that building. in de soto's time havana became marked as the coming capital and metropolis of the island, partly because of its unsurpassed situation, and partly for a reason similar to that which caused it first to be founded on the south coast, namely, for the sake of trade with mexico and florida. de soto during his brief sojourn there began the erection of the fortification known as la fuerza, which has long been noted as the oldest inhabited building in the western hemisphere which was built by europeans. by the time of governor angulo, havana had grown into--or been reduced to--a community of about two hundred europeans, and perhaps three hundred indians and negro slaves. santa maria del puerto principe was originally founded in on the north coast, but a dozen years later was removed inland for security against the rovers of the sea, and became known by its present name of camaguey. for many years vasco porcallo de figueroa was its chief man; a man of wealth and great force of character, who lived like a prince upon a vast estate with a great retinue of servants and slaves. all the rest of camaguey was tributary to him; with a total population of fewer than five hundred souls. baracoa, originally nuestra senora de la asuncion, was the first permanent settlement in cuba. shut off from the rest of the island by a mountain wall, and visited by several disastrous epidemics, it was all but obliterated, and in the time of de soto and angulo contained fewer than a dozen european families. as for trinidad, on the south coast, it fared even worse, for every spanish or other european settler deserted it, chiefly for sancti spiritus, leaving there only a score of indians. but that did not mean any great accession to sancti spiritus, which place had only about two hundred europeans, and perhaps as many more indians and negro slaves. bayamo was another city which was moved inland from its original site. it had in angulo's time fewer than a hundred spaniards and perhaps twice as many indians and negroes. thus after forty years of settlement and colonization, all cuba had not more than , inhabitants of european origin, and perhaps twice that number of indians and negroes. the great majority of the former were, of course, spaniards. even at this early date, however, there was a sprinkling of other nationalities. some portuguese came hither in the second quarter of the century, and engaged in vine growing and agriculture. indeed, by the middle of the century most of the profitable and commercial agriculture of the island was in their hands. the value of such colonists was appreciated by the spanish, who were glad to have others engage in the agriculture for which they themselves had little taste or aptitude. accordingly portuguese settlers were encouraged to come to cuba, and legislation was enacted in their favor. their naturalization as spanish subjects was facilitated, and free homesteads were given to them, of choice agricultural lands. some italians also came to cuba in those early years, partly as soldiers of fortune, to enlist in the forces of the island or to seek further adventures of exploration and conquest, and partly to become horticulturists and agriculturists, after the manner of the portuguese. even a few arabs and moors visited the island, and some german artisans. french and english there were none, because of the generally prevailing hostilities between them and spain. the spanish government was chiefly intent upon encouraging conquests in the great treasure-yielding lands of mexico and central and south america. yet it was not blind to the potential value of cuba, nor altogether neglectful of that island's interests. various attempts were made to stimulate immigration and permanent settlement, and even to prevent settlers, once there, from leaving the island. some of these measures were, indeed, so stringent as probably to react against their own purpose. thus it was required that merchants and ship-masters sailing from cuba for trade with other lands should give bonds for their return, while the death penalty, with confiscation of estate, was actually prescribed for many years for all persons leaving the island without permission from the authorities. the effect of this extraordinary measure was what might have been expected. knowing that once in cuba it would be difficult and perhaps impossible for them to get away again, prudent people were reluctant to go thither. efforts were also made to stimulate increase of population. married men in spain were forbidden to go to cuba without taking their wives with them. bachelors and widowers in cuba were not permitted to employ indians or to hold slaves, while illicit unions with native women were discouraged under penalty. regular marriages with native women were, however, legitimized, and there were many such which resulted satisfactorily. in spite of these precautions there were, of course, some illegitimate children, and these the government took steps to legitimize, in order that they might, in default of other heirs, inherit their fathers' property and become substantial members of the community. the population of cuba was materially increased in another and by no means commendable way. this was by the importation of negro slaves from africa. the traffic in human beings began in the west indies at about the time that velasquez began the conquest and settlement of cuba; perhaps a little before that time. naturally, with the settlement of cuba slave traders visited that island to offer their wares. it must be recorded to the credit of velasquez that he at first prohibited the entrance of negro slaves into the island, and to the end of his life opposed it though he was forced after a while to permit it. this was partly on the ground of morals, and partly on that of prudence. he did not scruple to enslave to some extent the native cubans. but that was in order to civilize and christianize them, and also to afford the colonists protection from them in their wild native state. such, at least, was the argument with which he justified his policy. moreover, the indians were already there, in the island, and had to be dealt with in some fashion. but it was manifestly a very different thing to import savages from some distant land for the express purpose of making slaves of them. the other reason was his fear that if many negroes were imported they and the indians would so outnumber the whites as to be a grave menace. nevertheless the slave trade was established and soon attained considerable proportions. it became so flourishing that presently the spanish government forbade private parties to conduct it save under special charter from the crown and on payment of a considerable royalty on each negro imported. ostensibly, this was because it was feared that too many negroes might be imported, so as to endanger the security of the colonists, as velasquez had suggested; but in fact it was largely for the sake of the revenue which thus accrued to the royal treasury. the popular sentiment in cuba was generally in favor of slavery. it was held that thus only could sufficient labor be secured for the development of the resources of the island. the number of negroes never was as great as some colonists urged that it should be, to wit, three male and three female slaves for every white householder, but it is probable that before the middle of the century the negro population of the island outnumbered the european. treatment of the slaves was on the whole humane. the negroes were forbidden to carry weapons, or to go about in companies of more than four. they were at times subjected to physical punishment by their masters for misdemeanors, though generally such discipline was required to be administered by the authorities. miscegenation between europeans and negroes was prohibited under penalty, and as an additional safeguard against it slaves were required to be imported in equal numbers of the sexes, and all were required to be married. it may be doubted if a similar regard for their sexual morals was ever exhibited elsewhere. there was a provision under which it was possible for industrious and faithful slaves to purchase their freedom, and a considerable number of them did so; after which they became members of the community with almost the same legal rights and privileges as the europeans. there was, it is pleasant to record, never the prejudice against the negro in cuba that prevailed in the states of north america. he was a slave, but he was a man. he was a social and political inferior, because of his enslavement; but he was mentally and spiritually the peer of his master. the text "cursed be canaan" was never thundered from cuban pulpits, nor was it ever held that the negro must not be educated nor instructed in religion. on the contrary, it was required by law that the slaves should have the advantages of all the services of the church equally with their masters; and the spanish aristocrat and his african slaves thus knelt side by side at the same altar. this attitude of the races toward each other had two natural results. one was, that the slaves were generally contented and peaceful, and attempts at insurrection among them, while not unknown, were rare. the other was, that amalgamation of the races became frequent and was recognized as quite legitimate. we have said that miscegenation in illegitimate fashion, between negro slaves and europeans, was forbidden. but there was no ban against marriage between whites and emancipated negroes, and such unions not infrequently occurred, with satisfactory results. the importation of negroes naturally increased with the gradual extermination of the native indians, and it was favored by the very men who most strongly inveighed against the enslavement of the indians. even la casas himself, with all his fervor in behalf of the natives, acquiesced in negro slavery; favored it, indeed, as a means of saving the indians from such a fate. during the second administration of guzman, the restrictions which had been placed upon the slave trade were removed, and free importations, without payment of a royalty, were thereafter permitted. indeed, a further step than this was contemplated. it was urged that if the king wished the indians to be emancipated, he should supply their places with negroes. this extraordinary argument prevailed, and for at least one year all the king's revenues from cuba were ordered to be invested in negroes, who were then to be distributed among the colonists of the island in place of the indians who were set free. these were not, however, to be free gifts, but were to be paid for by the colonists in the course of a term of years. the revenues for that year amounted to about , pesos, and it was reckoned that at the prices then prevailing in the slave market at least slaves could be purchased. but at the last moment the king, or else the council for the indies, reconsidered the matter, and the slaves were never purchased. at the same time the enfranchisement of the indians was postponed. the early industries of cuba were, in the order of their importance, gold mining, stock raising, and agriculture. the last named was practised by the spanish settlers only to an extent sufficient to supply their own needs for food. stock raising, both horses and cattle, was engaged in much more extensively, not only to supply local needs but also to supply the needs of spanish explorers and gold-seekers in mexico and central and south america, who had no time nor opportunity in their strenuous quest there to attend to such matters. but the first thought of the first settlers in cuba was for gold, and for many years the mining of that metal was the most profitable occupation. within the first twenty years of spanish settlement more than , pesos in gold were secured. indeed in a single year, , the mines at cuyeba produced , pesos. there were paying mines at savanna, at savanna de guaimaro, at puerto principe, at portillo, and elsewhere throughout the central districts of the island; some of them being ore veins in the mountains and some placers in the river beds. but in the course of twenty-five years the mines began to fail and new ones were not discovered, so that by de soto's time the output of gold had become insignificant. this was doubtless one of the strong contributing causes of the migration of so many settlers from the island, the eagerness of men to seek new fields in florida, and the general decline which cuba then suffered. there was some compensation for the decline of gold mining in the discovery of rich copper mines, though the full value of them was not at first realized. it was during the first administration of guzman that copper was discovered at cobre, near santiago. (this was the place where, as formerly related, alonzo de ojeda, in gratitude for his restoration to health, presented a statue of the holy virgin to the native chief, comendador, who had been his host and nurse and who had embraced christianity. the statue was long famous as our lady of cobre.) there is reason for believing that the cuban natives had formerly worked those mines to a considerable extent, for traffic with other lands, though they themselves apparently did not make use of the metal in their own arts. the governor, guzman, learning of the discovery, urged the development of the mines as the property of the discoverers, while the royal treasurer claimed that they should belong to the crown. a controversy was maintained for some time, with the result that the crown, lightly esteeming the value of the find, permitted private exploitation of the mines on a basis of ten per cent royalty. an assayer was sent from spain to superintend the refining of the copper from the ore, and suitable works were erected. but little or nothing was done for several years. then, after the administration of de soto, and while the alcalde mayor, ortiz, was acting governor, a great demand for copper arose, for the casting of cannon, in spain, and interest in the mines was revived. a german engineer made an agreement with the local authorities to extract the copper and did so with great success. the ore was found to be very rich in copper and also to contain so much gold and silver that it would be worth working for those metals entirely apart from the copper. under this expert management the mines became highly profitable. in the administration of angulo the german engineer had two mines assigned to him as his own, in return for which he instructed all comers--chiefly slaves who were sent to him for the purpose by the settlers--in the art of smelting and refining copper. large quantities of the copper were at that time sent to spain, and the first cannon mounted on la fuerza, in havana, were made of it, being cast at the royal foundry at seville. it is related that one of these cannon, a small falconet, burst in the casting, and so badly injured the superintendent of the works that he had to be taken to a hospital, where he expressed a bad opinion of cuban copper. this was the origin of the really unfounded belief which long prevailed, and which was recorded in technological works, that cuban copper had some peculiar quality which rendered it difficult and even dangerous to work. the first essays toward the growing of sugar, which has become one of the greatest industries of the island and in which cuba surpasses any other equal area of the earth's surface, were made as already related in the closing years of velasquez's administration. they did not at that time prove important, and nothing more was done until the first administration of guzman. that enterprising governor, always ready to do anything to enrich himself, asked permission to import negro slaves free of royalty, in order to establish the sugar industry, promising under penalty to begin the construction of a sugar mill within two years and to complete it within four years. the crown considered that too long a time, and refused to waive the royalty on slaves for his benefit, whereupon he abandoned the scheme. then hernando de castro made a similar proposal, reducing the time of completion of the mill to three years. the crown was more favorably impressed by his offer, and agreed to it, only to have him withdraw it. juan de avila and his brother alfonso reported strongly in favor of establishing the industry in cuba, and asked for a loan of capital from the royal treasury to finance the undertaking; but nothing was done. chaves and angulo also successively reported that cuba was admirably adapted to the industry, and it was known that at that very time sugar growing was enormously successful in hispaniola, porto rico and other islands. yet by some strange fatality nothing practical was done, and the actual establishment of the great industry was postponed until near the end of the century. the fiscal policy of the spanish government was in early years not unfavorable to cuba. apart from a royalty of from five to ten per cent on precious metals mined, and on copper, and the royalty already described on the importation of negro slaves, and a customs duty of seven and a half per cent ad valorem on all imports, the island was free from taxation. the royalties in question were certainly not oppressive, and the fact that the seville government imposed the same customs duty on all goods imported into spain from cuba made the tariff seem entirely just. indeed, cuba was favored above all other islands in the west indies for many years. thus after the middle of the sixteenth century one-third of what had been the import duty on goods received in spain from the west indies was required to be paid in the indies as an export tax; but cuba alone of all the islands was exempted from this arrangement. it was not, indeed, until the decline of spain herself set in, with increasing expenses for maintaining an inefficient and often corrupt bureaucracy, and with sorely diminishing resources and revenues, that cuba began to be detrimentally exploited for the sake of the mother country. chapter xv we have said that the administration of angulo marked the nadir of early cuban history. it also marked the turning point, and the entrance of the island into international affairs. not yet had the great duel between spain and england begun; which in the next century was to have so momentous results. france was the enemy. francis i became king of that country in , when velasquez was beginning the settlement of cuba, and charles i (charles v of the holy roman empire) became king of spain in the following year; and in , while velasquez was still governor of cuba, those two monarchs began the first of their series of six wars. adopting the policy which was afterward pursued by england against spain and against france, and by france against england, france struck at spain in her american colonies. during the first, second and third wars, french attention was chiefly given to conquests in north america, with occasional raids against spanish commerce in the caribbean and along the coast of mexico. cuba appears to have remained unscathed. with the outbreak of the fourth war in , however, trouble for cuba began. french privateers, little better than pirates in their practices, sometimes, swarmed the caribbean and the gulf, preying upon spanish commerce and raiding spanish seacoast towns. the first such blow was struck at cuba in . a fleet of five spanish ships, richly laden, was about to set forth from havana for spain, by way of the bahama channel. just as they spread their sails and weighed their anchors, a venturesome french privateer entered the harbor's mouth. the intruder hesitated at sight of so many vessels, whereupon three of the spaniards, being well armed as well as laden, as most ships had to be in those troublous days, gave chase. the frenchman retired, fighting stubbornly, as far as the harbor of mariel, where he turned at bay and for three days kept up the unequal conflict. then, just as he seemed preparing to give up the fight and flee, an unfavorable wind struck the spanish ships, placing them at such disadvantage that their captains ordered them to be abandoned and burned. this was done, but the french boarded one before the flames had made headway, extinguished the fire, and sailed away with the prize. the daring frenchman then returned to havana, entered the harbor with the two ships, and proclaimed to the alcaldes and citizens that he would do the place no harm if none was done to him, but that if any attack was made upon his ships, he would sack the town. after a while he went out and sailed away to the west. at that same time all commerce out of and into santiago was practically blocked by the presence of french privateers hovering off that port. in april, , an attack was made upon santiago, and the place was defended in a most extraordinary fashion. a spanish vessel tried to leave port, met a french vessel returning from a raid on hispaniola, and tried to scuttle back, but was overtaken and captured at the entrance to the harbor. next day, having despoiled the prize, the frenchman sailed into the deep harbor, which never before had been thus invaded, and menaced the town. the town had no defences whatever, and the citizens were unarmed. guzman, then just at the end of his administration, was furious at his helplessness. he railed against the citizens because they would not rush down to the wharf and repel the invader with clubs and stones. but railing was in vain, and so there was nothing to do but to take to flight inland, which most of the officials and citizens did, carrying all portable treasure with them. the frenchman then threatened to burn the town, which guzman wished he would do, in order to bring the king's government to its senses and arouse it to the necessity of defending cuba. but there chanced to be in the port a certain merchant of seville, by name diego perez, who was at least as daring as the frenchman himself. he had a little merchant sloop, not more than half the size of the frenchman, but well armed, with guns that would carry at least as far as the frenchman's. he ran his little craft into water too shallow for the bigger frenchman, where he would be secure against ramming or boarding, and there began peppering the enemy with his long range guns, perez himself aiming the best of them. the fight lasted all day, and perez was ready to resume it next morning. but in the darkness of the night the frenchman stole away and was seen no more in santiago harbor. perez had three men killed, and his vessel was badly damaged; but the frenchman probably suffered heavier losses, since two of his men who were killed fell overboard and were picked up and buried by the spaniards, and there were almost certainly others killed. for his valor on thus saving the capital of cuba from destruction, perez received from the king a coat of arms with a device emblematic of his achievement. that same frenchman a little later, having repaired his vessel, wreaked his revenge upon havana. when he entered the harbor there the people fled and left the town for him to loot at his leisure. it is recorded that he took even the church bells. moreover, being a truculent huguenot, he took an image of saint peter from the church and let his men use it as a target to pelt with oranges! this incident caused de soto, who arrived at havana a little later, to hasten work on the defences of the place. for some time there had been talk of building a fort, but no agreement had been reached as to where it should be; whether at the cabana, or the morro, or on the hill in what is now central park. but the frenchman's raid brought the controversy to an end, and de soto was authorized to build wherever he thought best. the result was the building of la fuerza. it was hastily built, and therefore badly, so that ten years later part of it had to be torn down and the whole remodelled into its present form. by this time it was considered certain that havana would one day become the capital and chief city of cuba, wherefore it was decided to fortify it rather than santiago or any other port. beside, it was the most convenient port of call for treasure ships and others plying between mexico and spain. a battery of cannon was therefore placed upon the morro headland, long before the building of the castle, and la fuerza was strongly armed. it became the custom for treasure ships to put into havana harbor, and if pursued to unload their treasure there, for safe keeping on shore until the danger was past. but no further attack was made upon havana or any other cuban port, and in the war was ended. the prospect of havana's becoming the capital seemed temporarily to be realized in , when angulo established his permanent residence there--the first governor so to do, though some of his predecessors had spent some time there, and de avila had actually established a residence there. angulo began building a large stone church at havana, in place of the wooden thatched hut which had served the purpose before him; he built an addition to the hospital, two store houses and a slaughter house, and rebuilt the jail. he also regulated the prices of food, so as to put a stop to the artificial raising of prices whenever ships came in for supplies. yet when, in obedience to the orders of the crown, in november, , he issued an emancipation proclamation in favor of the indians, a storm of abuse broke upon him, in havana as well as elsewhere. santiago, piqued because he had spent so much time away from that place, took the initiative in demanding a judicial investigation of his conduct, charging him with venality and peculations. but the city council of havana quickly followed suit, made more than fifty specific charges against him, and provided a ship to fetch a judge from hispaniola to try him. [illustration: morro castle, havana a grim guardian, seated on the headland at one side of the entrance to havana's peerless harbor; founded to protect the city from the sixteenth-century corsairs; captured in the seventeenth century by the british and the american colonists after the most stubborn resistance; and in later years the prison in which many cuban patriots were immured.] curiously enough, while santiago was hostile to him because he would not live there, havana was hostile because he would live there. it was specifically complained that he persisted in living at havana against the will of the people of that place. they did not want him there, they said, because they were convinced that he was there for his own profit. so they besought the court to compel him to return to santiago. other complaints were that he had imposed various new-fangled devices upon the city, that he was a gambler, that he engaged in trade for his own profit, that he permitted his wife to decide suits at law, and that he had instructed one of his officers to strike with a club anyone who did not rise to his feet when the governor entered the church. angulo denied all the charges, and declared that they had been trumped up against him because he had obeyed the king in emancipating the indians. he went to hispaniola in person to argue his cause before the supreme court, the chief counsel against him being alfonso de rojas. the court decided in his favor so far as to suspend all action and let him return to havana, until the king could pass upon the case. no judge would be appointed to investigate him, the court added, unless one were sent from spain. so the governor returned to cuba in triumph. landing at santiago, he proclaimed the freedom of all indians there. thence he proceeded to baracoa, to bayamo, to trinidad, and to puerto principe, repeating the emancipation proclamation at each place. at the midsummer of he reached havana, to find that the town council had "deposed" him, on the ground that he had been absent from his jurisdiction without leave for more than ninety days; a decree which he ignored. meanwhile the crown had appointed a judge to investigate him, but the judge did not come and the inquest was not held. soon after his arrival at havana, finding that he would not give up the governorship at its word, the town council begged the hispaniola court to have him investigated, and the court commissioned a judge for that purpose, who declined or at least failed to act. this was in august, . now trouble was renewed with france, the sixth war between henry ii, who had succeeded francis, and charles beginning in and continuing until , charles meanwhile abdicating in favor of philip ii in . the french navy was more potent than ever, and french privateers swarmed the spanish main. every cuban port was warned to be on its guard against attack, havana most of all, since it was now the richest and was in the most exposed situation. it was not until the fall of that the official news of the renewal of hostilities reached cuba, and great was the consternation which it caused. juan de lobera was at that time the commander of the fortifications of havana, to wit, la fuerza. he appears to have been a man of strangely mingled temperament, at times fearful and timorous, at others resolute and valiant. at the beginning the former characteristics prevailed. he realized, only too truly, that the fortifications and petty garrison would be entirely insufficient for the protection of the place against any considerable force, such as even a single french ship might bring against it, and he fell into something like a panic. happily, however, he did not desert his post, but made passionate demands upon the governor and the town council for additional guards. happily, too, in the presence of menace the animosities of faction were stilled, and the council cooperated heartily with the governor whom it had just been trying to depose and whom only a little later it denounced to the court as worthy of investigation and indictment. new guards were supplied. day and night the beach was patrolled. watchmen were stationed on the morro headland to espy approaching vessels and to signal the tidings to the fort and city. at the mouth of the almendares river, where it was supposed that invaders were likely to land, horsemen were stationed, to hasten back to the city with news of any such landing or of the appearance of a hostile vessel. twelve men, expert in arms, were held in readiness day and night to man the fort the moment a strange vessel was reported; la fuerza being otherwise without a garrison--which amply justified the commander's lack of faith in its defensive efficiency. in case of an attack, all able-bodied citizens were to present themselves in a massed levy under command of the governor. every man was to be armed, at least with a sword, day and night, and none was to absent himself from the city without the permission of the governor. every vessel of any kind that approached the harbor was signalled to stop outside until it could be visited and its identity be established; though if any refused thus to halt there was no adequate power to compel it to do so. however, refusal to stop would of course be regarded as proof of hostile character. with all these preparations the defensive ability of havana was pitifully if not ludicrously slight. three small cannon manned by twelve volunteers constituted the armament of a fort which might be attacked by a ship of twenty guns and two hundred men. the "army" of the place comprised sixteen horsemen and less than seventy footmen, scarcely any two of them armed alike. the chief commander under the governor was juan de rojas, who was the governor's bitterest political enemy, though he had once been his close friend and deputy. he was a brother of the former governor, manuel de rojas. in these circumstances the commander of the fort awaited with unspeakable trepidation the anticipated approach of the enemy. his fears were presently realized in the coming of perhaps the most formidable of all the frenchmen then scouring the seas; the famous jacques sores. this daring captain was not only a frenchman and therefore hostile to spaniards on racial and political grounds, but he was also a huguenot, like many other french seamen of that day, and therefore hostile to them on religious grounds. he was supposed to be under the patronage of the great condé, and also at one time to have received material aid from queen elizabeth of england. indeed, he was at this time regarded as the foremost champion of the protestant cause at sea. although a privateer, he commanded not a single vessel but a squadron of three, which he handled with the skill of a master mariner. sores did not, however, deem it needful to bring his whole array against havana. a single vessel, a brigantine, would be sufficient. so it came to pass that in the early morning of july , , a signal came from the watchers on the morro headland, that a strange sail, probably french, was approaching. a shot was fired from la fuerza, to summon the men of havana to arms. lobera led his garrison of twelve men to their places within the fort. angulo took command outside. for an hour or two there was uncertainty as to the identity of the vessel, and horsemen were dispatched to the beach to watch its movements. they presently hastened back with the news that the brigantine had cast anchor off what is now san lazaro and had sent ashore two boatloads of armed men, who were now approaching the city through the jungle. this indicated treachery, for the jungle was impenetrable save by a certain secret path which no strangers could know, and indeed it was presently disclosed that the invaders were guided by two men who had formerly lived in havana, one of whom had been a harbor pilot. the governor unhesitatingly considered discretion to be the better part of valor, and betook himself to instant flight, conveying his family and such of his property as he could carry to the native village of guanabacoa, at the other side of the bay, where he was joined during the day by a majority of the residents of havana. lobera, on the other hand, now that he was face to face with a great crisis, forgot his fears and acquitted himself as a man of valor. with his little garrison, half of whom were negro slaves, and with a score of refugees, old men, women and children, he shut himself within the fort, with its walls of stone and gates of timber, and prepared to fight to the death. he had found three more cannon and had taken them into the fort, thus totalling six, with a good supply of ammunition and provisions. he dispatched a message to angulo, reproaching him for his cowardly flight and imploring him to send all able bodied men to the aid of the garrison, for the honor of spain. this the governor promised to do at or before nightfall; a promise which was not kept. the invaders were commanded by captain sores in person. they took possession of the town without resistance, and then summoned the fort to surrender; expecting to find in it much treasure from spanish vessels which had recently been wrecked on the florida coast, though in fact no such treasure was there. lobera unhesitatingly refused to surrender, and the fight began. the first assault upon the fort, from the landward side, was repulsed. then the brigantine was seen to be approaching at the other side, accompanied by another and larger vessel of sores's squadron, which had just arrived; wherefore lobera had to transfer two of his cannon to that side of the fort to prevent a landing of more troops. a second assault was repulsed, during which a spanish gunner shot down the french flag from the staff on which sores had raised it at the stone house of juan de rojas, which the french had occupied as headquarters. a third assault, near nightfall, was also repulsed, but the two wooden gates of la fuerza were burned with nearly all the contents of the tower. the little garrison and the refugees spent the night on an open terrace, with only a little powder and shot and not a day's food left. hoping for help from the governor and citizens, lobera fired his largest gun at intervals during the night, beat the drums and sounded bugle calls; but all in vain. "the darkness gave no token." the french demanded his surrender, promising good treatment, but threatening a ruthless assault which would mean death if he persisted in trying to hold his indefensible position. lobera refused, until the break of day. then he saw that no help was approaching from angulo, that an overwhelming force of french soldiers surrounded him on all sides, and that successful defence was impossible. his ammunition was all but gone. the cords of the crossbows with which his men were armed were frayed and broken. some of his men were slain, while some of the survivors, especially one german gunner, mutinously held converse with the enemy. the refugees fell on their knees before him bidding him die fighting if he would, but to let their lives be spared. in this desperate plight lobera yielded, offering to surrender on honorable terms, if the lives of his men were spared and the women were protected from dishonor. to this sores gave his word, and the fort capitulated. the flag of france was raised over la fuerza, and twenty-odd spanish subjects were prisoners. the women and children were quickly released, but all the men were locked up in the house of juan de rojas, which was the strongest stone building in the city. about a score more were added to their number, of spaniards and portuguese whom sores had captured elsewhere. a few hours after the surrender, word was received from angulo. he had at last organized a force of about fifty men, chiefly indians, and had started to the relief of the fort when he heard of its capitulation. at this he realized that all was lost, and retired to guanabacoa, there to seek negotiations with the french for the ransom of havana. a truce was declared, and the prisoners were released from rojas's house on parole, pledged not to fight, or to leave town, and to return to their prison at nightfall. angulo offered a ransom of three thousand ducats, declaring that no more could be raised. the frenchmen scorned the offer, and demanded thirty thousand pesos--eighty thousand had been collected at santiago the year before--and a hundred loads of bread. angulo protested his inability to raise such an amount, but begged for time in which to see what he could do. a week passed, the french occupying havana at their ease and angulo scouring the surrounding country, ostensibly for ransom money but in fact for men and arms. by the end of the week he had surreptitiously collected a force of men, of whom about thirty-five were spaniards and the rest negroes and indians. they were armed chiefly with clubs and stones. himself and eight others were mounted on horseback. with this motley force he hoped to surprise the french by night, and to capture rojas's house, where he would take sores himself prisoner and release the spanish captives. the desperate plan would probably have succeeded had not some of the indians indiscreetly uttered their war cry as they rushed upon the house, arousing the frenchmen and giving them time to close and bar the massive doors. the few frenchmen who were sleeping outside of the house were quickly overcome and slain, and angulo laid siege to the house itself, summoning sores to surrender. the french commander was furious at what he not unreasonably regarded as a breach of the truce. moreover, his brother was among those who had been killed outside the house. in a fury he ordered that all the spanish prisoners in the house be put to death. this was quickly done, with the exception of lobera, who was confined in an upper room. sores reserved the killing of him for himself, and entered the room where lobera was for that purpose. lobera defended himself, meanwhile protesting that he had had no part in the treachery; and his evidently honest pleas moved a french officer to intervene in his behalf and to disarm sores. then, at the direction of sores, lobera showed himself at a window and addressed angulo, reproaching him for the breach of truce, and imploring him to withdraw. angulo refused, declaring that he had already recaptured the town, and that at daylight he would complete the work by capturing the rojas house and its inmates. with the coming of daylight, however, the folly of this course became apparent. angulo had, indeed, a larger force than the frenchmen still remaining in havana; though as the latter were far the better armed a conflict between them would probably have been disastrous to the spaniards. but the two ships in the harbor were now aroused and began firing upon the spaniards with their artillery, while reenforcements of men for sores put off for shore in boats. sores and his companions made a fierce sally from the house. the few spaniards made a stand, but the negroes and most of the indians would not oppose clubs and stones to swords and arquebuses. they fled incontinently to the jungle, followed by angulo himself. his victory thus completed, sores returned to the house where he had left lobera locked in a room with the dead and dying. he absolved the commander from all responsibility for angulo's treacherous conduct, and complimented him upon the valor with which he had defended la fuerza as well as upon his good faith. he would not, however, release him without a ransom, according to the custom of the times. in default of the ransom, he would take him to france as a prisoner, though treated with all consideration. lobera was without means, but his friends with whom he was permitted to communicate soon raised the required sum of two thousand two hundred pesos, and he was set at liberty. he thereafter went to spain, carrying with him the news of what had happened to havana. the negotiations for the ransom of the town were less successful. angulo had fled far inland, and could not be reached, and the spaniards who remained could not offer more than a thousand pesos, a sum which sores scorned. in default of ransom, therefore, the place was looted and burned. three buildings alone remained standing: la fuerza, the church, and the hospital. indeed, the interior of the church was almost entirely destroyed. sores and his men were fierce huguenots, and they tore down the images of saints and took the robes and altar vestments to make cloaks for themselves. all the boats found in the harbor were burned. the neighboring estates for miles around were destroyed, and some of the negroes who offered resistance were hanged. the harbor was carefully surveyed and sounded, to facilitate future entries. finally, his work being thus thoroughly done, sores sailed away at midnight of august , less than a month after his arrival. at the end of september a little french vessel, containing only a dozen men, entered the harbor, inspected the ruins of the city, and seized a spanish caravel which lay there, taking it away with them to the harbor of mariel, where there were several french ships. ten days later the entire french force entered the harbor of havana and landed many men. they did not, however, molest the spanish residents nor destroy the new buildings which they were beginning to erect, but seemed to regard them with good humored tolerance, as too insignificant to merit attention. indeed, there were only a few dozen of the spanish, all told, and they were helpless and disheartened. the frenchmen contented themselves with going to several of the outlying farms and taking all the hides they could find to add to the cargo which they were already carrying. they remained there, on amicable terms with the spanish, for more than a fortnight, and then sailed away. these things occurred at the time when philip of spain was marrying queen mary of england and was taking possession of the netherlands, and when spain vaunted herself as the foremost military power of the world. it must not be wondered at that the people of cuba, and particularly of havana, regarded themselves as grievously neglected by those who should have been their protectors, and bitterly reproached not alone the governor but even the king himself for not having afforded them more ample protection. the explanation was, doubtless, that spain regarded mexico, south america, and of course her european possessions, as of far greater importance than the island whose gold mines were about exhausted, which had failed to provide iron for spanish artillery, and which had served chiefly as a stepping stone to more valuable lands. it was a strange irony of fate that the island which was thus slighted was destined to be the most faithful and the longest held of all the colonial possessions of spain. chapter xvi the disastrous events which have been related in the preceding chapter suggested to the spaniards in cuba and also to the government at seville the desirability, if not the necessity, of establishing a more militant administration of affairs if the island was not to be the prey of all comers and perhaps ultimately be lost to the spanish crown. thitherto, with the exception of velasquez and the possible exception of de soto, every governor of the island had been a civilian and a lawyer. it seemed an experiment worth making, then, to appoint a military man to the office, in the hope that he would be better fitted to provide for the protection of the island against the privateers and corsairs who roved the seas in increasing numbers and with increasing boldness. true, immediately after the abdication of charles i and the accession of philip ii, in , a truce was concluded between france and spain, which was to last five years. but few expected that it would last so long, as indeed it did not, being broken in two years; and even while it did last privateering was by no means abolished. in any case, be it peace or be it war, spain had tried to hold her western empire by virtue of divine right and ecclesiastical decrees, and had failed. now she would try holding what was left of it with military and naval force; and to that end would have a soldier for governor of cuba. the man chosen was indeed an expert and competent soldier, by no means devoid of statesmanship. diego de mazariegos had been one of the most efficient lieutenants of cortez in mexico, and distinguished himself as a brave and skilful fighter against the indians. he had also given much attention to international relations, and to the privateering which had become such a scourge of the seas. indeed, it was through some of his writings on this latter subject that the court of seville was led to consider him as a candidate for the cuban governorship. dr. angulo had been appointed in , and five years was long enough, it was thought, for a man to serve, unless he served better than angulo had done in the latter part of his term. so mazariegos was selected to succeed him, in march, . juan martinez, a lawyer, was selected to go with him as lieutenant governor. these were the last appointments made in cuba by king charles before his retirement from the throne. some time was required for preparations for the voyage and for residence in a new land, so that mazariegos and martinez did not sail from spain until late in the summer. on the way they suffered shipwreck and martinez and all his family were drowned. mazariegos escaped, but lost everything he had with him save the clothes which he was wearing. this disaster made it necessary still further to postpone his assumption of the governorship, so that he did not reach cuba until march , . it is noteworthy that instead of landing at santiago, as every other governor had done, he went straight to havana, where angulo awaited him, and the very next day, march , he was installed as governor. in accordance with custom he conducted an investigation of angulo's accounts and general administration, which was permitted to pass as a merely formal and perfunctory performance. the passionate demands for angulo's indictment and punishment were by this time forgotten. havana had been partially rebuilt since the raid of captain sores, and had been completely transformed in character. it had a very much larger population than before, and that population was restless and turbulent to a degree. it contained adventurers from every country and of every type; fortune hunters, fugitive criminals, gamblers, bankrupts, the shady output of mexico, darien and peru, who sought in cuba a no man's land in which they would not be troubled with law and order. in this expectation they reckoned without their host. or perhaps they counted upon the rough and ready soldier as likely to countenance a large degree of laxity. if so, they were mistaken. mazariegos had indeed the personal morals of a soldier of fortune. soon after the death of angulo he took the latter's widow for his mistress and lived with her openly, to the great scandal of the church, until after the death of the lady's mother, when he married her, as he said he had all along intended to do; the delay being due to his unwillingness to have a mother-in-law. but this was regarded by the governor as a trifling peccadillo. upon graver offenses, murder, robbery, brawling and what not, he frowned with the wrath of a precisian. nor was he any respecter of persons. when francisco de angulo, the son of the lady whom he had taken as his mistress and was soon to make his wife, scandalized law and order with his drunkenness and brawling, he exiled him to mexico. for like offenses he also banished gomez de rojas, the youngest brother of juan de rojas, one of the foremost citizens of havana; expressing as he did so a fervent wish that the young man might quickly meet with an evil death. as for his own nephew, francisco de mazariegos, when he became notorious for gambling, lechery and fighting, he inflicted upon him with his own hands a physical chastisement which was a more than nine days' example to all the other youth of the town. santiago still being the nominal capital of the island, the new governor thought it incumbent upon him at least to visit it. in fact, he spent nearly the whole year there, endeavoring to provide it with means of defence against french privateers. he stationed a captain of the army there, with four small cannon, some muskets and pikes, and a supply of gunpowder, urging the citizens to learn to fight so as to defend themselves. then, in january, , he hastened back to havana to defend it against raiders who were said to be on their way thither. five months later a french privateer visited santiago, took the place without so much as a blow from the captain, considered it too small and poor to be worth looting or burning, and sailed away again after collecting only pesos ransom; probably the smallest ransom on record for a capital city! on his return to havana, mazariegos showed the value of a military governor for the protection of a city. for six weeks that summer a french squadron of four vessels lay off havana, without venturing to attack the place, knowing that mazariegos had mobilized and trained for fighting every able-bodied man in the place, and even some robust and athletic negro women. but the governor was not satisfied with defence alone. he contrived to get word to some spanish captains at nombre de dios, who were going to convoy treasure ships to spain, with the result that they presently came up unannounced and captured the whole french squadron. again and again thereafter havana was menaced, even attacked, but invariably mazariegos repulsed the enemy, generally with heavy loss to the latter. he felt, however, the need of better equipment, particularly of more cannon, and asked the crown to provide it. the crown declined or at any rate failed to do so, whereupon he set about doing it himself, and succeeded in getting, sometimes by rather strenuous means, a number of cannon and a good supply of powder. but a better fort than the ruins of la fuerza was also needed, and to that enterprise he turned his attention with zeal. at the beginning of his administration geronimo bustamente de herrera was commissioned by the crown to build a new fort, but after making plans and engaging workmen he fell ill and had to abandon the job. at the beginning of , just as mazariegos returned thither from santiago, herrera was replaced by bartolome sanchez, a competent engineer; who prepared new plans for the rebuilding of la fuerza as it stands to this day. the viceroy of mexico, who was much interested in the safety of mexican treasure ships which might put in at havana, contributed , pesos in gold for the beginning of the work. there was much trouble in getting laborers for the work, in spain. sanchez wanted at least a hundred negro slaves. the government thought the number excessive, and gave him authorization for only thirty; whereupon he declared that the enterprise might as well be given up. in fact he secured in spain only fifteen workmen, and with them he sailed for cuba, hoping to secure the rest there, or elsewhere in the west indies. the work began early in december, . a stone quarry was opened near guanabacoa, and a kiln for making lime was built. but labor was still lacking. sanchez wanted two hundred, negro slaves or others, and appealed to the people of the town to help him get them. in response they procured for him thirty slaves--their own, whom they were willing to turn over to him "for a consideration." then the governor took a hand in the game. there were forty slaves at santiago, who had been brought thither without the proper shipping papers, and were being held for that reason. mazariegos sent to santiago, confiscated them all, and brought them up to havana, to work on the new fort. some french prisoners who had been taken in a fight off matanzas were also set at work on it. all tramps and vagabonds who were arrested were sent to la fuerza or to the quarry, and for a time, until the crown stopped it, one third of the indian village of guanabacoa were kept at work on the fort. although sanchez was in charge of the work and was responsible for it, mazariegos spent much of his time there, watching it, directing it, and chastising with tongue and sometimes even with rod all who seemed laggards at the job. in time he succeeded sanchez in authority. for sanchez incurred much enmity on the part of some influential citizens, whose houses he took in order to make an open place about the fort. they accused him of corruption, of making gross errors in the plans for the fort, of fomenting discord, and of wasting money. he was too busy with building the fort to pay much attention to these things, even when they took the form of letters to the king. the outcome of it was that in the summer of sanchez was removed from his place, and mazariegos was put in charge of the completion of la fuerza. a few months later sanchez reached seville, and pleaded his case to so good effect that the crown was convinced that injustice had been done him, and that he should not have been discharged. however, it was not practicable to reinstate him, though he was sent back a few years later to make an official inspection of the completed fort. in addition to la fuerza, mazariegos built the first forerunner of the morro castle. in he built on the morro headland a tower of masonry more than thirty feet high. it was intended primarily as a landmark, and was therefore painted white in order to make it visible at the greatest possible distance. but a watchman was generally kept in it, to espy approaching vessels and to signal to the city news of their approach. the tower is said to have cost only pesos, and was paid for by the city of havana. mazariegos presently became involved in affairs outside of cuba. many men deserted at havana from the vessels of angelo de villafane, governor of florida. villafane complained and wanted mazariegos to capture and return them. mazariegos replied that he could not do it; to which we may doubtless add that he would not have done so if he could. he was desirous of increasing the population of cuba, even in that way. when villafane attempted to plant a spanish colony at what is now port royal, south carolina, and failed, mazariegos had some correspondence with the king, and probably acquiesced in the royal opinion, that it would be impracticable to establish a colony at that point. in , however, the king learned that the french had been quite successful in planting a colony on that very spot where the spaniards under villafane had failed, and he informed mazariegos of the fact. the governor, acting upon his own initiative, but shrewdly guessing what would be acceptable to the king, sent hernando de rojas thither with a frigate and twenty-five soldiers, to see how much of a settlement the french had made, and to destroy it if he was able to do so with that force. in the summer of rojas returned, reporting that the settlement had been abandoned by the french. he brought back with him one young frenchman as a prisoner, and also a memorial stone which the french had set up to commemorate the founding of the place, bearing the date, . mazariegos commended rojas for his work, sent the memorial stone to seville, and then began planning to go in person or to send an expedition to search the carolina and other coasts in quest of new french colonies. his theory was that the more french settlements there were, the more french vessels there would be, and therefore the more subject cuba would be to alien annoyance. this, however, was not to be. the end of mazariegos's administration was already drawing near. he fell into some violent disputes with the citizens of havana, over the appointment of alcaldes, a duty which they charged him with neglecting. he was also charged with packing the town council with his own creatures, with tampering with the mails so as to prevent people from writing to spain any complaints of his maladministration, and of other misdemeanors. bartolome sanchez, who had returned from spain and who had a bitter personal grudge against the governor for supplanting him as builder of the fort, petitioned the king to have a judge sent from hispaniola to investigate him, but the king refused. mazariegos, learning this, and feeling unwarrantably secure in royal favor, adopted a more arrogant attitude toward his opponents and critics, which did him no good. in the spring of , garcia osorio de sandoval was appointed to succeed him as governor. mazariegos thereupon wrote to the king, asking that there be no unnecessary law suits brought against him, as he was old, and ill, and poor. (he was not yet fifty years of age!) the king granted his request, and in consequence instructed osorio to make his investigation as little annoying as possible. osorio obeyed, and although the report of the inquest filled three big volumes, mazariegos was not brought to trial on any charges and had no fines assessed against him. he remained living at havana for some time, and then completed his career in the king's service as governor of caracas, venezuela. his administration had been a stormy one, but on the whole advantageous to cuba, and had confirmed the seville government in its policy of appointing others than mere lawyers to the insular governorship. garcia osorio de sandoval became governor of cuba on september , . as he was not a lawyer, the precedent which had been set in mazariegos's case was followed in his, of appointing a lieutenant governor who was a lawyer to serve with him. his lieutenant was luis cabrera, who did not reach cuba until later in the year, having suffered shipwreck and been obliged to put back to spain and await the sailing of another vessel. osorio appears to have been a soldier, though probably retired from active service at the time of his appointment to the governorship. at any rate he made it his first care to improve the defences of the island. it is related that he bore with him from spain to havana a cargo of arms and munitions, including four brass cannon. these he placed upon the fortification, thus making a battery of eight pieces, and built a substantial platform of timber for them to stand upon. la fuerza was not yet completed, but he took measures to expedite the work and hoped to have it finished in a year. in order to protect the place from possible raids by land, he closed and blocked all roads and trails leading into it from the west excepting the one along the beach. he organized a force of seventy men armed with arquebuses, to be quickly summoned in an emergency, and required them and all citizens to assemble for service whenever a strange sail was sighted. in addition, as a permanent contribution to defence, a spacious arsenal was built near the water front, to contain the stores of ammunition and to shelter the guards and citizens. there was thus much promise that osorio would prove to be an energetic and useful governor. unfortunately, at the very beginning of his administration he came into conflict with another and much stronger functionary of the spanish crown; indeed, one of the most formidable figures of the time. this was none other than pedro menendez de aviles, whose record fills so large a place in the early annals of florida and the west indies. he took to the sea in boyhood, and became one of the most expert navigators of spain. at the age of thirty he was captain of his own ship, and it was one of the most active and efficient vessels among all that guarded and convoyed the treasure ships and fleets of the spanish main. at that time he warned the government of hispaniola and also that of mexico of the grave danger of letting the french get any foothold upon those shores, or even of navigating those waters. the bahama channel, the gulf of mexico and the caribbean sea should all, he insisted, be declared and kept closed seas, into which no vessels but those of spain should enter save by special license. [illustration: pedro menendez de aviles.] menendez was, moreover, an ardent and indeed fanatical catholic, who deemed it a duty to extirpate "lutheran dogs," as he termed the french huguenots and other protestants; and as most of the french seamen and foreign adventurers at that time were of the huguenot faith, he cherished a special animosity against them. now, his recommendations to the governments of hispaniola and mexico were transmitted to seville and were laid before the king. charles was at that time weary of royal cares and was about to resign them, and he paid little or no attention to the letters of the young captain. but when philip ii came to the throne, attention was given to them. that painstaking monarch read them and was much struck by them, both in their warning of military danger from the french and in their zealous animosity against heretics. their writer was evidently, he thought, a man after his own heart. so he sent for menendez, talked with him, and commissioned him to be the guardian of the highway to the indies, with the title of captain-general. it was his function to guard spanish treasure ships all the way across the atlantic, from mexico to spain, as he had formerly guarded them in the narrow seas about the indies. it was thus that he was serving during a part of mazariegos's administration in cuba, and in that capacity he spent much time at havana. on one or two occasions he took charge of the few little vessels which formed mazariegos's navy, and did good service with them. at this time, also, he wrote to the king about the increasing ravages and peril of french privateers in those waters, very much as he had written to the local governments years before. the result was that the king in march, , appointed him to be adelantado of florida, and captain-general of the spanish fleet in that part of the world specially commissioned to guard the coasts and ports of the indies. that was six months before osorio became governor of cuba. the commission of menendez bade him to "guard the coasts and ports of the indies." very well. cuba was certainly one of the indies. therefore he was commissioned to guard the ports and coasts of cuba. being familiar with cuba, and recognizing its very great importance, he naturally deemed the guarding of that island as one of the very first of his duties. mazariegos did not demur, since he was himself soon to retire from the governorship. but when osorio came to havana six months later, and found menendez in command of all that pertained to harbor and coast defence, there was trouble. osorio asserted his rights and authority as governor of cuba. menendez replied with an assertion of his as captain-general "to guard the coasts and ports." the first clash came because menendez interpreted his jurisdiction as extending to fortifications on land as well as to shipping; which we must regard as extreme if not overstrained. he assumed direction of the garrison of havana, and had two hundred men sent thither from a large detachment which was sent to florida. as la fuerza was not yet finished sufficiently to accommodate them, houses were hired to receive them. osorio was not notified in advance that they were coming, or that they had arrived; and after they were there they refused to regard his authority but took orders solely from baltazar barreda, a captain whom menendez had assigned to their command. presently barreda took charge of la fuerza and began moving thither the artillery, including the four pieces which osorio had brought with him from spain. osorio remonstrated, saying that the fort was not yet sufficiently completed for use. barreda defied his authority, and was sustained by menendez, who happened to be in havana at the time. the governor yielded, for the time. but as soon as menendez was out of the city he clapped barreda into jail, after a violent physical struggle, and appointed pedro de redroban to the command of the fort in his stead. news of this reached menendez and he hastened back and released barreda. as for redroban, he and half a dozen of his men fled to the woods, in well-founded fear of menendez. now, redroban was one of menendez's soldiers, just as much as barreda, and was probably as loyal to him as barreda. but he had deemed it incumbent upon himself to obey the commands of the governor of the island. nevertheless, menendez charged osorio with having incited mutiny in the garrison, and he denounced redroban as a deserter and traitor, who should be captured and put to death, and his head exhibited in the market-place with an inscription proclaiming him a traitor to the king and disobedient to his commander. redroban and some of his comrades were captured, tried, and condemned to death; but on appeal to the crown their sentences were commuted. menendez then ordered barreda to set the garrison at work digging a moat about the fort, and demanded picks and shovels from the governor for the purpose. these osorio refused to supply, and barreda thereupon secured them from the people of the town. still another cause of friction was found in the coming to cuba of many men, both civilians and runaway soldiers, from florida. these osorio received and sent to the interior of cuba to engage in agriculture. menendez complained that osorio was inciting and assisting desertions from florida; and osorio bitterly replied that affairs were so bad in florida under menendez's rule that people had to flee from the place to save their lives from starvation and pestilence. whatever were the general merits of the controversy between the two men, it was certain from the beginning that menendez would win. he had the higher official rank, and he enjoyed the special favor of the king. more and more he made havana his headquarters, preferring it to any port on the florida coast; to which it was, of course, naturally much superior. more and more, too, he assumed authority in havana, not alone in military but even in civil affairs. more and more osorio was ignored. and as menendez had the stronger force of men, and was backed by the approval and favor of the king, it was in vain that osorio resented the slights which were heaped upon him. matters reached their climax in the matter of further fortifications. osorio wanted to build a sea wall in front of the city, such as the engineer sanchez had planned years before, at the beginning of mazariegos's administration. menendez curtly dismissed that scheme, and commissioned his son-in-law, pedro de valdes, with some other officers from florida, to survey the waterfront of the city and recommend additional fortifications. they reported that it would be folly to build a sea wall, and that all that was needed was a round tower, about thirty-seven feet high, on the headland opposite the morro, on which latter an observation tower had already been erected. valdes suggested that the tower might be built by the garrison of la fuerza, at no cost, if the governor would provide the materials. this osorio refused to do. he had no money for such a purpose, and no authority to spend any for it. moreover, he condemned the plan of thus dividing the garrison, holding that it would be far better to finish la fuerza and concentrate all the forces there. the outcome of it was, therefore, that the proposed punta castle had to be for the time abandoned; menendez perforce contenting himself with some earth-works on punta, in which he placed a couple of cannons. at the same time other friction arose at santiago, a place which could not yet be altogether neglected. menendez's attention was called to that place by having one of his own ships chased into santiago harbor by a french privateer. the captain of that ship reported to him that santiago had a fine harbor but practically no defences. a fort had indeed been begun on the headland at one side of the harbor entrance, but had not been finished, and the sea wall for which the people had petitioned had not been started. menendez thereupon sent thither a company of fifty men with four cannon, under command of captain godoy; without, of course, consulting osorio as governor of the island. this force remained there about three months, in the summer of . it saw nothing of french privateers, or of any menace of an attack upon the town. but it did see a good deal of merchant ships of various nations, french, scottish and portuguese, which came thither with slaves and merchandise, but which seldom ventured in for fear of godoy and his men. for such trade with foreigners, and particularly with those who were or were suspected to be heretics was strictly forbidden. godoy and his men were therefore most unwelcome visitors, to the merchants and people of santiago, and to the lieutenant of the governor, martin de mendoza. it was suspected, not without reason, that osorio had sent word to mendoza to antagonize godoy as much as possible. at any rate, one day a particularly big french merchant vessel came into the harbor; godoy rallied his men to the battery near the wharf, to prevent it from landing its cargo; and mendoza arrested godoy and sent him to jail, where he kept him until the cargo had been discharged and another taken on in its place, amid the jubilations of the people. then godoy was released, with profound apologies for the error which had been committed in arresting him! godoy remained for some time thereafter at santiago, though much against his will. his superior officer commanded him to remain. but he sent an appeal for relief to the supreme court of hispaniola, with the result that mendoza was removed from office, in the winter of - . this was a relief to both mendoza and godoy, though it did not make their feelings less bitter. on palm sunday the two met at church, mendoza accompanied by his wife and godoy by a friend named cordoba. the latter two grossly insulted both mendoza and his wife, then ran into the church for security from chastisement, forcibly resisted arrest, and committed acts of sacrilege. they were finally overpowered, and on being brought to trial before the local court were condemned, godoy to be hanged and his body quartered, and cordoba to be flogged and sent to the galleys. the sentence was executed, godoy being hanged on a gallows at the door of the church the sanctity of which he had violated. when menendez heard of this he was furious. he instituted proceedings against mendoza and the local alcaldes at santiago, charging them with conspiracy to destroy godoy so that their illegal traffic with frenchmen and other foreigners would not be molested. mendoza thought it prudent to remove to carthagena, in new granada, for fear of personal violence; whence he proceeded to spain, where he was acquitted of all the charges which menendez had made against him. meantime, the governorship of osorio had ended. early in , at the time when the controversy arose over the sea wall and the punta fortifications, he had realized that his usefulness as governor was ended, and had asked the king to accept his resignation; declaring that his presence there was no longer of value to his majesty. in august, , the king appointed diego de santillan to be governor in his stead, and commissioned him to investigate osorio's stewardship, and particularly to bring him to trial on certain charges of false arrest and cruelty to a prisoner. but just as santillan was about to embark for cuba, in october, , his commission was revoked and menendez was appointed governor of cuba in his stead. it has been said that this appointment was made by the fanatical king to show his approval and appreciation of menendez's act on september , , when he massacred the french garrison of fort caroline, florida, "not as frenchmen but as lutherans." menendez was not able, however, as adelantado of florida, to reside permanently in cuba, or indeed to spend much time there; wherefore it was arranged that a lieutenant governor should be the actual administrator in his stead. the man chosen was francisco zayas, a lawyer, who had been selected by the king to be lieutenant governor with santillan. he reached havana in july, , and at once assumed the office which osorio was glad to relinquish. it cannot be said that he was greatly welcomed by the people of havana or of any part of cuba, since it was assumed that he would be a mere puppet acting for menendez, and it was feared that menendez would use cuba as a mere stepping stone or adjunct to florida, draining it of men and resources for the benefit of the larger province on the continent. this apprehension, happily, was not realized. osorio personally had cause for fear. zayas was commissioned to conduct the investigation into his affairs, and there was every reason to suppose that menendez would compel him to make the inquest as drastic as possible and to impose the heaviest possible penalties for any misdemeanors which might be proved against him. but zayas was after all a just and reasonable man, who was not afraid to assert his independence of menendez, particularly since, as he pointed out, his commission as lieutenant governor antedated that of menendez as governor by two months. moreover the people of havana, through dislike of menendez and fear of his policy, gave their strongest support to osorio, testifying in his behalf, and at the end sending a great memorial to the king, signed by almost every man of consequence in havana, petitioning for the utmost possible favor for the governor. the result was that the lightest of sentences was passed upon osorio, two years after his actual retirement from office. in dealing thus with osorio, however, zayas sealed his own fate. nothing that he could do thereafter pleased menendez, while he was called upon by the latter to do or to sanction things which offended his sense of right. by the beginning of may, , relations between them reached the breaking point. menendez caused the city council to protest that zayas had never filed the bond which was required of a lieutenant governor, and to characterize this as a grave offence, indicating criminal intent. zayas thereupon resigned his office. suits were instituted against him and his wife in spain, by menendez, and he returned to the country to meet them. he appears to have been successful in his defence, since the king subsequently appointed him to be a judge in the canary islands. menendez appointed in place of zayas as lieutenant governor diego de cabrera, who had filled that place under osorio. his term of service was short, however, and no fewer than five others succeeded him, one after another, during the administration of menendez. they were diego de ribera; pedro menendez marquez, a nephew of menendez; juan de ynestrosa; juan alfonso de nabia; and sancho pardo osorio. diego de ribera, who served for a brief space under menendez as lieutenant-governor, was captain of the galleons, and was presently commissioned for an expedition to florida. he was succeeded by pedro menendez marquez, a nephew of menendez. he was an accomplished navigator and on that account was directed by his uncle to sound and chart the old bahama channel, a much-frequented route of commerce and approach to cuba from the north and east. to this undertaking he devoted only a few weeks, but his observations were so exact, thorough and comprehensive that the council for the indies, on receiving his charts, immediately approved them and ordered them to be regarded as the authority for navigation of those waters. the administration of sancho pardo osorio was marked with much energy in advancing the defences of havana and in caring for the commerce which frequented or touched at cuban ports. the former work proceeded slowly, because of the necessity of depending almost exclusively upon the local community for aid. at this time also was effected the immensely important reform of codifying the municipal ordinances. this work was done under a commission of the supreme court by dr. alfonso casares, of havana, who on january , , presented the results of his labors to a council consisting of sancho pardo, the alcaldes geronimo de rojas avellaneda, and alfonso velasquez de cuellar, and the regidores diego lopez duran, juan bautista de rojas, baltasar de barreda, antonio recio, and rodrigo carreño. the code was unanimously approved by them, and it remained in force and active practice until the war of independence in . chapter xvii menendez was governor of cuba for a little more than six years, from october , , to december , . those were important years for the world at large. they saw the duke of alva, as governor of the netherlands, establish there the bloody tribunal, and in return the "beggars of the sea" engage in their indomitable campaigns against the oppressor, extending even to the coasts of cuba. spain engaged in a great war with the ottoman turks. france had the second and third civil wars, culminating in the massacre of st. bartholomew's day. elizabeth of england fully committed herself to the protestant cause and was excommunicated by the pope. mary of scotland fled from her throne and was succeeded by young james vi. menendez, more a statesman of world-wide vision than any of his predecessors, was not unmindful of these transactions, or of the far greater events which they portended, and he strove after his fashion to prepare cuba for her part in great affairs. he realized that in the wars of the european powers their american possessions were increasingly likely to become implicated. despite his utmost efforts, various other nations sent vessels to west indian waters, to harry the fleets of spain. the numbers of such intruders were increasing. his utmost efforts had not been sufficient to drive the french away and to keep them away. now others than the french began to appear. the "sea beggars" of the netherlands were daring navigators and formidable fighters, and they began to prowl around the coasts of cuba. english captains had found their way to the spanish main, and hawkins made his way to vera cruz, and drake plundered nombre de dios. finding himself unable to protect the spanish treasure ships and to keep all enemies away from west indian waters, menendez sought at least to make cuba secure against invasion, or its capital--for such havana was about to become in name as well as in fact--secure against capture and looting by buccaneers. to this work he gave his chief attention, and, above all else, to the completion of la fuerza. the rebuilding of that fortification dragged scandalously. sometimes it was for lack of money, sometimes for lack of workmen. menendez told the council for the indies that in its unfinished state it was an actual menace to the town, because a hostile force could easily land and capture it, and having done this, they could quickly complete it and make it almost impregnable against any attempt to drive them out. he did not explain why he could not complete it as quickly as an invading force could, but he asked for a force of three hundred negro slaves to work on it. with them, he said, it would be possible to finish the fort in two years. the council was not favorably impressed. it could not understand how a few score buccaneers, landing and seizing the fort, could finish it in a few days, while it would take menendez with three hundred slaves two years to do the work. diego de ribera, as acting governor, also took up the matter. the fort was already sufficiently advanced to permit him to mount eight pieces of artillery, but he wanted twenty more. also, he wanted a large permanent garrison of professional soldiers. it was unsatisfactory to have to depend upon a rallying of the citizens, because it interfered with the occupations of the citizens, because they were not expert in arms, and because when they were summoned not more than half their number responded, so that the commander never knew how many he could depend upon. there should, he urged, be a permanent garrison of two hundred men, under the command of the governor. of course such a garrison could not be furnished by the town itself, because there were not in all havana more than two hundred fighting men, all told. this gives, by the way, a hint concerning the rapid growth of the place at the time of mazariegos. a town containing two hundred men capable of bearing arms must have had a total population approximating two thousand. ribera's arguments and appeals appear to have been more effective than those of menendez. the council for the indies, and the king, too, ordered practical steps to be taken for finishing and equipping the building which had so long been neglected. as cuba, or perhaps especially the port of havana, was of no great importance to the spanish colonies on the mainland, for the safeguarding of their shipping, and also as cuba had been so drained of men and supplies in former years for the exploitation of colonies on the main land, it was but justice as it was a matter of practical convenience and expediency for the government to call upon mexico and castilla del oro to contribute largely to the payment of the cost of fortifying havana. that place was a little later called, by royal decree, "llave del nuevo mundo y antemural de las indias occidentales," or key of the new world and bulwark of the west indies. certainly it was fitting that the new world should pay for its key and that the indies should pay for their bulwark. so mexico was required to contribute four thousand ducats, and florida to provide fifty good men to form the garrison of la fuerza. the cost of maintaining the garrison was charged against venezuela and darien. the providing of labor was a more difficult matter. it seemed to be settled that negro slave labor must be employed. in order to secure it at little cost it was proposed to give slave-traders the privilege of taking as many slaves as they pleased to cuba, provided that they would lend them to the government to work on la fuerza until its completion; after which they might be sold or otherwise disposed of at the traders' will. the objection to this from the traders' point of view was the length of time that it was expected to take to finish the fort. the government estimated it at three years. now the traders would have been willing thus to lend their slaves for a shorter time, for six months, or for a year. but they considered three years entirely too long. after working for so long a time, under a rigorous taskmaster, the average slave would be so nearly worn out that his value would be much impaired. so that scheme failed. the next plan for getting labor for the fort was disastrous. a contract was made with a trader to provide three hundred negro slaves, by the end of . he did deliver of them in the summer of that year, and later sent the rest but they never got further than hispaniola. the whom he did deliver were, however, infected with small pox. a number of them died of that plague after their arrival at havana, and the contagion got abroad in the city with the result that many other slaves and a number of the spaniards also perished from it. still, enough of the slaves in that plague-stricken cargo survived to cause the authorities of havana much embarrassment in feeding and clothing them. agriculture was not yet receiving the attention which it deserved, and even a hundred or a hundred and fifty more mouths to feed overtaxed the local resources. requisition was therefore made upon the government of yucatan to send a sufficient supply of corn and meat to feed the slaves, while the king himself undertook to clothe them. he was led to do this in a way which strikingly indicates the limitations of philip's mind. to all appeals for clothing for their comfort or for decent appearance's sake, he was deaf. but when it represented to him that they must have clothes in order to be able to attend mass, he at once ordered them to be clad from his royal bounty! more money was needed, and was raised in various ways. an examiner went about the island, looking into the accounts of public officials. generally he found that there was something due to the state from them. of the money thus collected, nearly all, to the amount of nearly four thousand pesos, was devoted to the costs of the fort. other funds were taken for the purpose, and when there was still a deficit it was actually proposed to sell some of the slaves to pay for the maintenance of the rest. this counsel of despair was not, however, acted upon. instead, sancho pardo osorio when acting governor, near the end of menendez's administration, advanced much money from his own purse, trusting to the government to reimburse him. another draft of four thousand ducats was finally obtained from mexico, and smaller sums came from venezuela and darien. thus the enterprise dragged on, until the summer of found the fort still far from finished, the builders of it heavily in debt for labor, materials and maintenance, and the garrison, workmen, and citizens of havana all profoundly dissatisfied. naturally, and inevitably, this state of affairs reflected upon menendez, and compassed his downfall. he was not merely governor of cuba. he was adelantado of florida, and he gave to florida his first thought and chief attention. he spent most of his time there, leaving cuban affairs to be administered by acting governors of his own selection. this was altogether unsatisfactory to the people of cuba, and especially of havana. they wanted their governor to live among them, where he would be accessible, and pay much more attention to them and their interests. so they began agitating against him, and demanded a governor who should not be adelantado of florida, nor subject to that functionary. they did more than complain. they refused supplies. they would not send to florida the supplies which menendez urgently needed for his enterprises there. when the king reprimanded them and bade them do their duty, they replied with surprising defiance that they wanted payment, first, for supplies long ago furnished to the havana garrison. they also wanted to be relieved of the burden of being compelled to guard or to watch the coast themselves, at their own cost for arms and ammunition. they wanted these things done for them before they would trouble themselves for the furtherance of the adelantado's enterprises in florida. meantime, the council for the indies, at seville, was also unfriendly to menendez. tired of the delay in building la fuerza, it recommended to the king his removal in favor of someone who would more vigorously expedite that essential work. it was the bitter irony of fate that he should thus be condemned for failing to do the very thing upon which he had most set his heart to do. the council also condemned him for faults of administration which were due, it held, to his personal neglect through absence from the island, and it therefore urged that a governor be appointed in his place who would spend his time chiefly in cuba and would give to that island and its interests his first and best thoughts. these representations were made to the king as early as the spring of , and they had much weight with him. the sequel was that in menendez was recalled to spain, and was commissioned for a work similar to that in which he had first won distinction, to wit, the protection of spanish commerce against hostile privateers; only it was not now the commerce between spain and mexico which he was to safeguard in the west indian seas, but that between spain and the netherlands, along the coast of france and in the british channel. in that capacity he was commander of a considerable fleet, and the work was doubtless in itself congenial to him, and one which he was well fitted to perform with success. but his heart was set on florida, with which he aspired to be identified as cortez had been with mexico and pizarro with peru; and he bitterly lamented his being so far separated from that country. so far as his governorship of cuba was concerned, which is all in which we need here be interested, he had at this time reached the beginning of the end. the king decided to remove him from that office, though probably not so much to get rid of him there as to be able to keep his valuable talents continually employed nearer home. he had decided that menendez was of more value to him as a captain of his fleet than as a civil administrator. accordingly at the beginning of alfonso de caceres ovando, a temporarily retired judge of the supreme court of hispaniola, was commissioned to make the customary investigation of menendez's administration. he was not, however, appointed to succeed menendez as governor, but the latter was left for the time in office. this was a mark of the high favor in which menendez was held by the king; and another token to the same effect was the provision that menendez need not personally appear to answer any charges which might be made against him, but might, if he preferred, send an attorney in his stead. a third and perhaps still more notable indication of royal favor was in the fact that when menendez elected not to appear in person, and not to send an attorney, but to ignore the whole investigation, he was not called to task, but was permitted to go without so much as a reprimand. the investigation did not take place until november, . though brief it was thorough and searching. but it disclosed little that was to the discredit of menendez, and nothing that was really serious. he seems to have been a somewhat gloomy and cruel fanatic, but a man of integrity and singular loyalty to his sovereign and his faith. he was zealous and energetic, but better fitted to command a ship or a fleet, or indeed an army, than to govern a state. yet in both respects he failed. his chief concern in cuba, as we have seen, was to promote her military defences; but he left la fuerza incomplete, while the inestimable economic potentialities of the island were altogether neglected. so in florida, he aimed at conquest with the sword and little else; and while he succeeded in holding the land against french assaults and intrigues, he did not develop there a colony comparable with those which were being developed elsewhere in the new world; and he had the mortification of seeing, in the closing years of his life, french, dutch and british privateers swarming in defiance of him the seas which spain claimed for her exclusive own. it was just a month after the beginning of the investigation into his affairs that menendez was superseded in office by the appointment as governor of cuba of don gabriel montalvo. this gentleman was a nobleman of great distinction in spain. he was a knight of the order of saint james, and he was also high sheriff of the court of the holy inquisition in the city of granada. the latter office indicates him to have been a man after the king's own heart. it remains to be added that menendez returned to spain after being superseded, and died there a few months later, at santander; men said, of a broken heart at the enforced abandonment of his ambitions in florida. little either attractive or grateful is to be found in the record of the condition of cuba during the administration of menendez, or as he left it to his successor. rich as the island was in agricultural possibilities--it might well have been said of cuba as douglas jerrold said of australia, "earth is here so kind, that just tickle her with a hoe and she laughs with a harvest"--and few as were its inhabitants, it yet produced not enough to feed those few. it produced nothing with which to clothe them. after the decline of gold mining, the raising of cattle became the chief industry; chiefly for their hides, which were an important article of export. bayamo was the centre of this industry, and was also the centre of a thriving but illegitimate commerce. in fact the whole southeastern part of the cuban coast was the resort of contraband traders, who brought thither silks and linens, wines, and sometimes cargoes of slaves, to exchange without paying tariff duties for hides and the valuable woods with which cuba abounded. no attempt was made, at least with any efficiency, by the governor or the royal officials at havana to stop this lawless trade. now and then, however, the supreme court at hispaniola interfered, arrested citizens of bayamo, manzanillo, and santiago itself, and fined them heavily. then the government at havana, which had done nothing to enforce the law, remonstrated and protested against so much money being taken from cuba to hispaniola. the island was, nevertheless, making some progress; appropriately enough through a reversal of the conditions which had formerly involved it in disaster. the mexican adventure of cortez had drawn away from cuba men and resources almost to the exhaustion of the island. but now that country began sending men and means back to cuba. cortez had long been dead, but under his successors the wealth of mexico was being wondrously developed, as was indeed that of peru and other south american countries. some of the commerce between south america and spain went by other routes, though a considerable portion of it passed by the shores of cuba and utilized that island as a stopping place, to its material benefit. but all the mexican traffic followed the cuban route, the most of it passing along the north coast and making havana a port of call or of refuge. florida, too, which had likewise drawn much from cuba, was now sending men and supplies back to the island. by havana was the commercial metropolis of the west indies, and it had for some years been the practical capital of the island, though santiago continued nominally to enjoy that distinction until . vessels from vera cruz, bearing the treasures of new spain, and from nombre de dios, laden with the wealth of castilla del oro and of peru, thronged the harbor, and contributed to the trade of the city. to meet the requirements of the thousands of transient visitors, houses in the city were multiplied in number, and plantations in the suburbs extended their borders. the people began to realize how profitable a business was to be conducted in providing supplies of food for the ships' companies. and while the southeastern part of the island was, as we have seen, in a backward condition, the northwestern part entered upon an era of progress and prosperity. chapter xviii don gabriel montalvo was appointed to be governor of cuba early in december, . as was the custom in those days, however, he delayed for some time actual assumption of office, so that it was not until october , , that he entered upon his duties. he was also charged with some important duties in florida, but they were subordinate to those in cuba. he made his home in the island and spent most of his time there. indeed, he seems to have planned to make his home at santiago, and to restore that place to its former prestige. on coming to cuba he landed at manzanillo instead of coming to havana, and sent diego de soto to be his representative, practically deputy governor, at the latter place. from manzanillo he went straight to santiago, refurbished the governor's house and the public buildings, and began planning an elaborate system of harbor defences worthy of the capital of the island. he was naturally received with great joy by the people of santiago and of the eastern end of the island generally, who saw in him, as they thought, a promise of restoration of that region to its former importance. from santiago the governor set out on a tour of the eastern cities and towns, and had got as far as bayamo when there came a hurried and urgent appeal for him to come to havana. there was trouble in the city. diego de soto, the deputy governor there, had made gomez de rojas commander of la fuerza--that reckless and truculent younger brother of juan de rojas whom governor mazariegos had once exiled from the island for disorderly if not criminal conduct. now gomez de rojas was a land owner, and therefore, under the law, ineligible thus to serve. but confiding in the powerful influence of his family he ignored the law and held his place in defiance of all protests and demands for his retirement. the town council demanded his retirement, and the populace of havana raged against him, but he shut himself up in the unfinished fort, trained his guns against the town, and prepared to resist with force any attempt which might be made by force to compel his resignation. such was the emergency which sent a message post haste to the new governor asking him to hasten to havana. he came, and at his coming gomez de rojas capitulated without a blow. montalvo rebuked him severely and imposed upon him a heavy fine, which was paid. but in this the governor incurred the hostility of the rojas family. the feud was taken up by juan bautista de rojas, who had succeeded his cousin juan de ynestrosa, deceased, as royal treasurer. this official charged the governor with conniving with smugglers and receivers of smuggled goods, and also with those who exported goods to countries with which traffic was prohibited, and on that account demanded for himself the right to inspect vessels and their cargoes; a function which had been exercised by the governor. this demand was curtly rejected by montalvo, who appears to have been a stickler for dignity and technical rights. thereupon de rojas made appeal to the king, coupling the appeal with a detailed and bitter arraignment of the governor and an impeachment of his integrity. this seems to have impressed the king deeply, for he presently decided the controversy in favor of his own treasurer. he sent word to the governor that thereafter he should not inspect or even visit ships, but should leave that whole business in the hands of the royal treasurer. the advantage thus gained was mercilessly pressed by the rojas family, with the purpose of compelling the retirement of montalvo. they accused him of employing for his own private work slaves belonging to the crown and intended for employment on la fuerza and other public works. they charged him specifically with having made bartolome morales a notary for a consideration of five hundred ducats; a transaction the evil of which consisted not in selling the appointment for cash, but in selling it for so little to a favored friend when it might have been sold to someone else for twice as much. finally he was accused of corruption and maladministration in connection with la fuerza, in that he had appointed friends to places at exorbitant salaries, and that he had ignored the suggestions of the royal officials in completing the plans of the fort. these charges were serious, and there is reason to think that some of them, at least, were true. the rojas family made them and repeated them to the king, again and again, until that monarch was constrained to remark that the time seemed to be near at hand when an investigation would have to be ordered, and montalvo's administration be brought to a close. nevertheless the king's favorable disposition toward montalvo was potent, and prevailed. the governor had been appointed, as was the custom, for the specific term of four years, reckoned from the date of his appointment and not of his actual assumption of office, and the king delayed calling for an investigation until the four years were so nearly expired that they would be entirely filled out by the time the investigation was completed and a new governor was ready to take the place. the order for the investigation was given in february, , and at the same time, on february , captain francisco carreño was named to succeed montalvo as governor. the investigation was vigorously prosecuted, and some of the charges against montalvo were proved. yet so great was the king's personal regard for him that he was permitted to go with a nominal fine, and was retained in the royal service in important capacities for some years thereafter. he remained governor of cuba until the accession of his successor, which did not occur until june , . the administration of montalvo was unfavorably marked by three things. one was, the continuance of the contraband trade already referred to, in both imports and exports; in which, as already related, the governor himself was charged with participating. montalvo at any rate gave the appearance of striving to suppress it. he sent agents to investigate the business, some of whom found their own relatives engaged in it and therefore refrained from reporting upon it, and some were prevented by the people from executing that for which they had been sent. not merely the people, but the local officials all along the southeastern coast did all in their power to hamper and prevent investigation or any interference with the contraband trade. indeed, alcaldes and other officials were foremost among those engaged in the unlawful commerce. the second feature of the administration was the persistent ravages of the french. despite the fact that they were engaged in contraband trade with the people of cuba, the french were at this time the most frequent raiders of cuban coast towns; sometimes directing their attacks against the very towns in which they had been peacefully trading, while the people were quite ready at any time to trade with those who just before had visited them with fire and sword and demands for ransom. it was a curious circumstance that by far the most efficient guardian of cuba against such raids was that same gomez de rojas who had been exiled by mazariegos and who had illegally assumed command of la fuerza and had bitterly quarreled with montalvo. after being compelled to leave la fuerza he had taken to seafaring, and as commander of a spanish vessel he drove more than one french privateer away from the neighborhood of havana. montalvo was the first to urge that cuba be protected not alone with land fortifications and batteries but also by naval vessels. particularly he wished for a powerful war-galley, which the king did not provide him. in french raiders attacked santiago, and were with difficulty repulsed; upon which montalvo sarcastically reported that if another such attack occurred he would himself be relieved of the necessity of fortifying the harbor and city of santiago, for the place would cease to exist. a little later a daring french raid was made upon spanish shipping just outside the harbor of havana. this greatly incensed montalvo, and caused him to renew his pleadings for a galley. he urged that the whole cuban coast should be patrolled by light, swift vessels, preferably frigates, and that strong galleys should be stationed at the chief ports. he would have had the frigates, at any rate, built in cuba and at least partly paid for by that island; but the havana municipal council protested against this, demanding that cuba be entirely exempted from the costs of defending her from enemies. the result was that in the lack of means of defence cuba suffered more and more from the ravages of privateers and freebooters, which became more frequent as the island increased in population and wealth and thus became better worth raiding. the third unfavorable feature of the time was the haggling over la fuerza. begun by de soto, and later almost entirely rebuilt, that famous fortress seemed to be under some malign spell which made it a source of injury rather than of benefit to havana. year after year passed, appropriation after appropriation was made and expended, and still it remained unfinished. man after man undertook the task of completing it, only to fail and lose his personal reputation either for efficiency or for honesty. moreover, as the work proceeded grave faults were developed, both in plan and in construction. the fort, which at first had been denounced as needlessly large, was seen to be entirely too small to shelter a garrison sufficient for the defence of havana. the original design had been to make it a shelter to which all the people of the town could flee in case of attack, and it might have served this purpose at a time when the people of havana were numbered by scores, or at most by a hundred or two. but with the figures extending into thousands it became evident that la fuerza was entirely inadequate to any such purpose. indeed, it was realized that that design was ill-conceived, for if the place was to grow into a considerable city it would be impracticable and undesirable to make any fortification large enough to hold all the population. the construction was also faulty. the fort was built of stone, but there had thoughtlessly been chosen for the purpose a stone which had the advantages of being plentiful and so soft as to be easily worked. unhappily it had also the very serious disadvantages of being so soft that it would probably soon be battered to fragments by cannon balls, and of being so porous that water soaked into and through it as through a sponge. during the rainy season the place was flooded, water standing in pools on the floor, and the magazine being so wet that gunpowder could not be kept there without spoiling; wherefore another building, of wood, had to be provided for that purpose. the same kind of stone was used, moreover, for the reservoir which was to provide fort and city with water, with the result that its contents quickly leaked out. there arose a proverbial saying in the city that the powder magazine was always wet and the water reservoir was always dry; and it was sarcastically proposed that the functions of the two be exchanged. the powder would be kept dry in the reservoir, and there would always be plenty of water in the magazine! nor was this the only error in construction. the whole structure was said to be dangerously weak, so that if all its guns should be fired simultaneously, the shock might tumble the walls into ruin. the guns were available for use in only a narrow zone; they were of too short range to carry to the other extremity of the harbor, and they were so placed that they could not be depressed so as to hit vessels which had come close in toward the water front of the city. therefore a hostile ship with long range guns could lie out of reach of la fuerza and bombard the fort and city at will. or one could sail swiftly in, running the gantlet of the narrow zone of fire, and gain a place under the walls of the fort where it would be quite safe for the guns of the latter while it could use its own at short range with deadly effect. it was also complained that the parapet was too low to afford shelter to the men serving the guns, and that the four big wooden gates were a source of fatal weakness. it was presently perceived, too, that fortifications elsewhere than in the heart of the city were needed for adequate defence of the place. especially were such works needed at the headlands commanding the entrance to the harbor. without them, a daring enemy might seize one of those spots, bring up some long range guns from his ships, and have not only havana but la fuerza itself at his mercy. montalvo appears to have recognized this need, and to have urged the construction of such forts, especially on the cabañas hill, but to no avail. instead, the royal government proposed the construction of a strong wall around the entire city, including the water front. it actually ordered that work to be undertaken, the first step being to destroy a large part of the city, including the church, to make room for the wall. against this suicidal policy montalvo effectively protested, declaring that if the city were thus demolished it would never be rebuilt, and also pointing out that the day of walled cities was past. in the face of his representations the wall scheme was abandoned; but his wise suggestions of forts commanding the harbor were not acted upon until years afterward. it is to be recorded to his credit that montalvo gave more attention than his immediate predecessors had done to development of some of the natural resources of the island. he interested himself in forestry, and soon had an immense trade in timber and lumber between cuba and spain. the exquisite cabinet work of the escurial, in spain, was made of wood from the forests of cuba--mahogany, ebony, ironwood, cedar, and what not. wood was supplied for other purposes, too, notably for ship-building. it was at this time that interest arose in the great island just off the southern coast, which at that time was so richly clad with pine forests as to receive from montalvo on that account its present name of "isle of pines." during the administration of menendez the whole island was granted to alfonso de rojas for a cattle range, a purpose for which it was admirably adapted, and there are legends to the effect that the water between the isle of pines and cuba was at times so shallow as to make it possible to drive herds of cattle across from the one land to the other. it is to be observed, in passing, that thus early in history was the isle of pines recognized as an integral part of cuba. montalvo also did much to promote agriculture, and the raising of swine. he endeavored to revive interest in both gold and copper mining, and seems to have been persuaded that there were enormously rich deposits of the former metal hidden somewhere on the island, in places known only to the natives. he strove diligently and persistently to get from the few surviving indians information concerning these mines, but in vain. if the indians knew, they would not tell; but it seems altogether probable that they did not know, and that no such mineral wealth existed on the island. it was in montalvo's time, too, that what was destined to become cuba's greatest industry had its permanent establishment. at various times and places thitherto men had experimented with sugar growing and manufacture, with varying degrees of success. but every such undertaking had after a while been abandoned, either for lack of profit or because of the superior attractions of something else. it was not until that plantations were established which were never to be abandoned but were to continue in cultivation down to this present time, and that sugar mills of similar permanence were put into operation. the scene of this epochal enterprise was the region around havana, particularly between havana and matanzas. there in the year named at least three mills were established, a fact indicating that a considerable area was planted in cane. these mills were of the most primitive description, each consisting of three wooden rollers, formed of logs of trees denuded of the bark, mounted in a rude frame of timber, and caused to revolve by a long pole of which one end was fastened to the end of one of the upright rollers while to the other was hitched a mule or an ox, which walked in a circle around the "mill." the expressed juice was caught in trays or jars of earthenware, and then was boiled in open pans. the sugar thus produced was not refined beyond the stage of what would now be considered a very coarse brown sugar, but it served the uses of the island. it does not appear that any considerable quantity was exported until a number of years later. these primitive establishments in were, however, the beginning of cuba's gigantic sugar industry. one other incident of montalvo's administration must be recalled, to wit, his quarrel with the church, or at least with the bishop. diego sarmiento, who became bishop in de soto's time, had been gathered to his fathers, and had been succeeded by bishop durango. the latter had in turn died, and in had been succeeded by bernardino de villapando, who spent only three years in the island and then departed for mexico under unpleasant charges of embezzlement of funds. the charges against him do not appear to have been pressed, nor did they affect his standing in the church, for he was presently transferred to the then much more important see of guatemala. moreover, despite the charges made against him, he was recognized as a most energetic and successful prelate. he established many mission stations throughout the island, and expedited the completion of the cathedral at santiago. upon his promotion to guatemala after three years' service bishop villapando was succeeded by juan de burgos, who continued with much success the work of his predecessor. he secured the erection of a large church school on the site now occupied by the hospital of san juan de dios, at havana, and there the famous missionary preachers and teachers, juan roger and francisco villaroel, gave instruction to indian youths in the christian religion and in the spanish tongue. in connection with this school there was built the church of san juan de dios, and from the establishment thus founded by bishop burgos grew the first hospital in havana. it took originally the form of a military hospital, for the soldiers of the havana garrison and for soldiers in transit to or from florida, mexico and other places. it is recorded that for his work bishop burgos depended entirely upon the offerings of the people; demonstrating what could be accomplished by an honest and businesslike administrator. the next bishop of cuba was pedro del castillo, who came to the island from the university of salamanca. he was a most aggressive and strenuous prelate, with policies of his own and with the courage to enforce them. arriving in cuba in , he glanced at santiago when he landed there, crossed the island to havana, where he spent a little time, and then proceeded to bayamo, where he established his home, preferring that to any other city of cuba. he then laid claim to the island of jamaica as a part of his bishopric, and succeeded in carrying that point despite the opposition of the archbishop at hispaniola. then he complained that the royal officials were not properly collecting the tithes, or at any rate were not paying him his proper revenue; wherefore he himself began collecting the tithes. this brought him into conflict with the crown, a circumstance which did not alarm him nor swerve him from his course. he made a number of appointments of the clergy under him which he deemed to be for the good of their parishes but which made him unpopular with them. also he incurred much unpopularity among the people by his insistence upon certain reforms in their morals. this strenuous policy presently led castillo into conflict with montalvo. the governor thought that the bishop ought to reside at santiago, where were his official residence and also the cathedral. castillo refused to do so, on the nominal ground that he considered santiago an unhealthful spot. there is reason to suspect, however, that he preferred bayamo because of certain very rich legacies which had been left years before for the erection of a masonry church and parochial school at that place. the provisions of these wills had not been carried out, and the strenuous bishop set himself to the task of finding out why the church and school had not been built, and of getting possession of the legacies and administering them himself. in the litigation which ensued he quarrelled with montalvo so bitterly that he excommunicated him; an act which the governor did not take greatly to heart. the strife between the two accentuated, however, the antagonism between church and state which was even at that early time beginning to prevail. [illustration: san francisco church one of the most ancient of the many ecclesiastical edifices in havana, built in and rebuilt in , and presenting a singularly perfect and characteristic example of ancient spanish architecture. in late years it was used by the government for a custom house, and post office. the illustration presents it in its earlier aspect with its former surroundings restored.] chapter xix it would be easy for the reflective historian to engage in many interesting and pertinent observations concerning the time in which captain francisco carreño became governor of cuba. it was the year . that was the year in which the sixth religious war in france began, a struggle which made inevitable the still greater religious wars which followed, in which not merely two factions in france but the two great powers of spain and england were the chief belligerents. that was the year, too, in which sir francis drake began his voyage around the world, which was perhaps the most momentous since that of columbus in , since it led directly to the strife between spain and england in america, the english conquest of cuba, the foundation of the english colonies in north america, and the subsequent development of the united states; all having the most direct and important bearing upon the fortunes of cuba. albeit he was a native of that city of cadiz in the harbor of which drake performed one of his most daring and most famous feats, carreño probably entered upon his governorship with no premonitions of what was in store. while drake was furrowing the strange expanses of the south sea, it was french privateers that chiefly troubled the spanish main and menaced the ports of cuba. their favorite cruising ground was in the waters between cuba and jamaica, and between cuba and hispaniola, and their menace to cuba was chiefly to the ports between cape maysi and cape cruz, and in the gulf of guacanabo. the chief sufferers, as also the chief gainers from contraband trade, were santiago, manzanillo, and the settlements at the mouth of the guantanamo river. the people of those places were never sure whether an approaching french vessel was bent on contraband trade or war and plunder; and indeed the frenchman himself sometimes left that question to be answered after he had landed and viewed the place. he then decided which would be the more profitable, to trade with the people or to plunder them. at times, too, it must be confessed, the spaniards were in similar uncertainty whether to receive the french as traders or to slay them--if they could--as enemies. carreño was the first governor of cuba to die in office, his death occurring on april , . his administration thus lasted only two years; but they were years filled with hard work on his part and with much progress for the island. the sugar industry which had been founded in the preceding administration prospered and expanded, and caused a considerable increase in slave-holding. negro slaves were the favorite workmen on the plantations and at the mills, and a large number of them was needed at each establishment. the increase in the number of slaves caused, however, some anxiety lest there should be servile insurrections, such as had occurred on the isthmus of panama, in mexico and elsewhere; so that in the government refused to permit any more to be imported, even though they were wanted by the governor himself. it is recorded that his personal request for a thousand negroes to work at copper mining was refused by the king, or by the council for the indies. anxiety was caused, also, by the increasing number of free negroes, and of slaves who were practically free. most of the entirely free negroes had been slaves but had bought their freedom from their masters for cash. this was not particularly difficult, since the market value of the best negro slaves at that time was only from fifty to sixty pesos. those practically free were slaves who were permitted by their owners to live where they pleased and work as they pleased, on condition of paying their masters certain royalties every week or month. in carreño's time there were hundreds of negroes of these classes in and about havana, and probably still more of them in the eastern end of the island. the anxiety concerning them arose from two causes. one was, the fear that they might incite the slaves to insurrection, placing themselves at the head of the movement; a fear which was not at that time realized. the other was, the fear that they would build up objectionable communities. thus in havana they occupied a quarter of the town by themselves, in which their wooden cabins were huddled closely together; the sanitary conditions were bad; and the danger of fire which might imperil the whole town was obviously imminent. there was in carreño's time a movement to procure their deportation to florida or elsewhere, and to forbid the residence of free negroes in cuba; but it did not become effective. it is agreeable to remember that in spite of the obviously objectionable nature of the institution of slavery, and in spite of the fears and anxieties which have been mentioned, negro slavery in cuba in those early days was not marked with the distressing features which it has elsewhere borne. it was probably more humane than it was two and a half centuries later in the united states. the slaves were seldom sold by one master to another, and never in circumstances which separated husband and wife, or parents and young children. severe physical punishments were prohibited. their masters were compelled to feed them well, and to provide them with decent and comfortable clothes. there was no personal or social prejudice against them, but they were permitted to attend church and to frequent all public places on equal terms with the spaniards. ordinarily they were not permitted to carry weapons; but those who occupation seemed to make it desirable for them to be armed, such as cattle-rangers, and messengers travelling from one part of the island to another, were permitted to bear arms just as white men would have done. moreover, the free negroes were called upon equally with the whites to serve as sentinels on the water fronts of cities, and were of course provided with arms. there are no authentic records of intermarriage between spaniards and negroes, yet neither is there any proof that it did not occasionally occur. we have already seen that amalgamation with the indians was not unknown, and in other spanish colonies of those and later days there were some fusions with african blood. what is chiefly to be remembered, however, is that negroes, although enslaved, were regarded in cuba as human beings, with immortal souls, no less than their masters, and that they were invariably so treated. there was no pretence that they were of an intrinsically inferior race, or that they were suffering from the primaeval curse of canaan or of ham. and when they gained their freedom and became educated, they were treated socially and politically according to their merits, without regard for the color of their skin. in the most literal sense, the administration of carreño was marked with constructive statesmanship. as a statesman this governor set about enlarging and improving havana and other cities, and providing them with public and private buildings commensurate with the needs of an increasing population. he laid out enough of the streets of havana to establish for all time the plan of that city. he encouraged the building of houses, or at any rate discouraged the holding of town sites unimproved, by making distributions of lots to all who wished them, on condition that the owners would promptly build. if they did not build within six months, their titles were forfeited. another important reform effected by him was the substitution of adobe or other masonry for wood as building material. by the end of his administration fully half of the houses in havana had walls of masonry, and a considerable number had also tiled roofs. it was carreño, too, who began the building of the first custom house in cuba, at havana. the king had ordered montalvo to undertake this enterprise, but he appears to have taken no steps whatever in that direction, not even selecting a site. carreño essayed the task with characteristic energy. he selected an appropriate site, at the water front and close to the principal wharf, where an excellent rock foundation was to be found, and there he planned to erect a building of solid masonry, seventy feet long and two stories high. the royal government approved the plans, and the work was promptly entered upon. finally, it was impossible that the new governor should not be seriously concerned with la fuerza. carreño found that long-delayed edifice practically finished, according to the old plans; its though condition was, as hitherto suggested, decidedly unsatisfactory. he began by insisting upon clearing away all buildings of any kind close to the fort. this had been ordered nearly a score of years before but had never been done. the purpose was, of course, to strengthen the fort by leaving no shelter near its walls which might harbor or facilitate the approach of a hostile force. then he insisted upon building an additional story on la fuerza. this he declared was necessary, for barracks for the garrison, and for a storage place for gunpowder, the fort proper being flooded more than half the time. doubtless these needs were real, and carreño intended to meet them with the new story. yet it seems also to have been his plan thus to secure for himself living quarters more pleasant than the house which had been assigned to him for that purpose. there was much opposition to his plans for enlarging la fuerza, but he persisted in them, and they were nearly completed at the time of his death. during the administration of governor carreño the question of the distribution, proprietorship and use of land became of much social and economic importance in cuba. the population of the island was still small, and yet because of the immense size of the tracts which many settlers had appropriated for cattle ranges nearly all the accessible and available area had been taken up. in the eastern part of the island there was practically no unclaimed land left excepting that in the mountains and some almost impenetrable swamps, and already many controversies and not a few forcible conflicts had arisen over rival claims. thus far no private ownership of land was authorized outside of building sites in the towns and cities. cattle ranges and farms were held under indefinite leases from the crown, subject to forfeit if the land were permitted to remain unoccupied and unused for the space of three years. these grants were made by the municipal government in the name of the crown. at first the tracts thus taken were of unlimited extent and indeed their boundaries were defined in only the vaguest possible manner. the result naturally was that innumerable and interminable conflicts arose over overlapping claims. to correct such evils and to provide for a more equitable distribution of land in future, alfonso caceres, who had been sent to investigate the administration of governor menendez, was charged with a complete revision of the land system of the island and with the prescribing of new rules and regulations for subsequent grants and titles. in entering upon that work he found some settlers holding enormous tracts which they had never attempted to utilize. of these he summarily voided the titles and assigned the land to others. such areas were quickly taken up by new comers, in smaller and definitely bounded tracts, so that by the time of governor carreño practically the only unoccupied lands of considerable extent and practical value were to be found in the extreme west end of the island. around havana and some other large municipalities there were reserved unassigned zones of from fifteen to twenty miles in width which were kept practically as public game preserves. no grants of cattle ranges were made in them. but they were infested by many stray cattle and hogs which had escaped from the ranges beyond and were there running at large in practically a wild state, and these were regarded as fair game for hunters from the cities. it was, however, insisted that anyone killing such stray animals must bring their hides to market with the ears attached, so as to prove that they were indeed wild strays, since then their ears would be unbranded while all the animals on the ranges had their ears branded with their owner's marks. the government wisely desired to encourage agriculture, even at the expense of stock raising, the latter occupation having been expanded disproportionately to the former. it was accordingly provided that grants of land for farming purposes might be made within this hunting zone, and also that such grants might be made of land already apportioned for cattle ranges, the owners of the ranges thus invaded being indemnified by other grants of land elsewhere. by this means a varied agricultural industry was gradually developed to the great advantage of the island, though for many years cattle raising remained the chief industry. during carreño's administration more than , hides were exported yearly, and in the great demand for leather at that time this trade was exceedingly profitable. of course a large amount of meat was also produced, but the difficulty of preserving it in the warm climate of cuba caused much of it to go to waste, so that yearly thousands of heads of cattle were slaughtered for their hides alone, their carcasses being left to the dogs and buzzards. the sudden death of carreño caused some curious complications in the government of the island. as he had been appointed for a definite term of four years, and as that term was scarcely half expired, no successor had yet been chosen for him. in this emergency the supreme court of hispaniola appointed a temporary governor to discharge the functions of the office until the crown should make a permanent appointment. the choice of the court fell upon a lawyer, gaspar de torres. even he was not appointed until several months after the death of carreño, and in fact not until after the king had selected a permanent governor to succeed carreño. however, as the permanent governor would not take office until the expiration of the term for which carreño had been appointed it was necessary for the temporary governor to fill the vacancy. torres was appointed in october, , but did not actually assume office until the first of january, . little is known of his antecedents, but he appears to have been an unworthy member of the legal profession. he was possessed of an itching palm. as a result his brief administration was filled with scandals and with controversies and conflicts, practically all arising from his pecuniary greed and from the unscrupulous means which he employed for satisfying it. he came into conflict with the powerful and numerous rojas family, and particularly with the most conspicuous member, juan bautista rojas, the royal treasurer. this latter official declared that torres was the worst governor cuba had ever had, and that he misappropriated more funds than all his predecessors put together. apparently as torres had been appointed merely to fill out carreño's unexpired term, he determined to make hay while the sun shone. he took office in january, . eight months later a judicial investigation into his administration was ordered, as a result of which he was very quickly convicted of misappropriation of funds and was ordered to refund several thousand ducats which had been improperly collected and retained by him. instead of refunding, however, he absconded, leaving his bondsman to make good his liabilities. chapter xx the regularly appointed successor of governor carreño was another soldier, to wit, captain gabriel de luzan. he was an army veteran who had performed distinguished service in the netherlands and elsewhere and was personally known to and greatly favored by the king. he was selected for the governorship and was informed of the appointment in the early fall of , a few weeks before the malodorous torres was appointed by the court of hispaniola. it was intended, however, that he should not actually take office until the expiration of the full term for which carreño had been appointed, and he accordingly had much time to attend to his affairs in spain and elsewhere before removing to havana. his duties were not to begin until . but he removed to cuba in the fall of while torres was being investigated. there came to cuba with him juan ceballos, who had been selected for lieutenant-governor. both of these officials were to receive the same salaries that their predecessors had received, although rojas, the royal treasurer, vigorously protested that their salaries should be reduced by one-half. governor luzan was very soon involved in numerous controversies, largely over questions of dignity and precedents among insular officials. something of the spirit of the formal spanish court appears to have permeated cuba at this time, and the insular and municipal officials became as great sticklers for forms and ceremonies and for recognition of their comparative ranks as any of the grandees at seville or madrid. thus jorge de balza, adjutant general of the royal forces in the island, insisted upon the privilege of wearing his sword at meetings of the municipal council of havana, of which he was ex officio a member, although it was a penal offense for anyone else, even the governor himself, to wear a sword or dagger in that assembly. another controversy arose, as might confidently be assumed, over la fuerza. the office of captain or commander of that fortress paid a salary of ducats, on which account several former governors had appointed themselves to the place and had drawn that salary for themselves. governor carreño regarded this practice as reprehensible. it was not right, he said, for the governor to hold another office and to draw a second salary. therefore, he appointed his own son, a lad just in his teens, to be captain of la fuerza and to draw the salary. whether the boy had the spending of the money himself or dutifully handed it over to his father is not a matter of record. governor luzan stopped this nonsense and put a real soldier at the head of the fort and then quarreled with him. this commander was captain melchior sarto de arana, an expert soldier who had been luzan's comrade in arms in the wars of spain, in the netherlands and in italy. he and his family moved into that upper story of la fuerza which carreño had insisted upon building, regarding it as the most desirable place of residence in havana. the unhappy garrison in the lower part of the building was subject to the dampness which there prevailed, to the great detriment of health. indeed conditions were so bad that their weapons became almost ruined with rust and it was almost impossible to keep gunpowder in condition for use. the governor appears to have envied captain arana his quarters in the fort, but he was not able to displace him, and so he turned his own attention to completing the custom house for his own use. governor torres had stopped all work upon this latter building because of some uncertainty concerning the site, and had appropriated to his own use some of the funds which had been provided for completing it. but luzan secured the necessary funds, hurried the work of construction and soon moved in to the fine new quarters which that building provided. this gave great umbrage to the royal accountant of the island, one pedro de arana, who does not appear to have been related, unless very remotely, to the commander of the fort. he declared that the governor had no right to live in the custom house, that the king's money had not been appropriated for any such purpose. it was true, he admitted, that a part of the custom house building had been designed for an official residence. but it was not for the governor, but for one of the royal officials. now as rojas, the royal treasurer, had a fine house of his own, the meaning of this suggestion was obvious. the royal accountant wanted the place for himself. he indeed went so far as to order the governor, in the king's name, to vacate the building. but he did not venture to move in and take possession himself, and so the governor presently returned and remained. in retaliation luzan personally charged pedro de arana with various illegal acts, particularly in violating the law which forbade royal officials to encourage any trade. he declared that arana was the owner, or half owner, of a vessel trading between cuba and yucatan, a vessel which was built to be chiefly used for smuggling. he also said that arana was organizing an expedition to seek and raise sunken treasure ships along the coast and was planning to establish cattle ranches in bermuda. on the strength of these charges, which were probably true, he began a searching investigation into arana's affairs, raided his house and ordered him to be arrested by his namesake and confined in a cell in la fuerza. to this, however, captain melchior de arana demurred. it was not that he did not regard the accountant as worthy of arrest. but he held that it was beneath his dignity to arrest a mere civilian and beneath the dignity of the fort to serve as a prison for him. the arrest, he said, should be made by the sheriff, and the prisoner should be confined in the civil jail. at this the governor was furious and he retaliated by sending the sheriff to arrest captain melchior de arana and to confine him not in the military fortress but in the civil jail. a little later, however, he had the captain transferred to a cell in la fuerza. then he made his brother-in-law, juan de ferrer, captain of the fort in melchior's place. in his strenuous dealings with the royal accountant the governor appears merely to have anticipated the king himself. at any rate, a very little while after he had begun his investigation of pedro de arana the instructions came to him from madrid that he should pursue precisely that course. this naturally encouraged him to renewed zeal in the prosecution. and the result was that in march, , he removed arana from the office of royal accountant and appointed manuel diaz temporarily to fill his place. at this arana made his way to hispaniola, there to appeal to the supreme court against the governor. he did more than appeal. he made grave charges against luzon and got the court to order an investigation. the court appointed as chief inquisitor into luzan's affairs garcia de torquemada, who went to cuba in april, , taking arana along with him. diaz made no attempt to maintain his title to the office, but, regarding discretion as the better part of valor, left havana and repaired to his plantation in the far west. but the governor and also rojas, the royal treasurer, who sided with him against arana, stood their ground. in the meantime, early in , the king became dissatisfied with the fast and loose game which was being played at havana, and chiefly at la fuerza, and determined to take matters into his own hand. he did so by appointing a captain-general to be commander of the fortress, who should be independent of the governor of cuba. this involved some awkward complications. the governor, luzan, had been regularly commissioned as captain-general as well as governor. and the king naturally hesitated for a time over the question of appointing another man to the same place. he would have preferred that the governor and captain-general should have continued to be one and the same man. but that seemed no longer practicable, unless indeed he should dismiss luzan altogether, which he was not yet prepared to do. he therefore consulted with the council for the indies, and in conjunction with that body finally decided to make a new appointment. luzan was to continue to bear the nominal title of captain-general, so as to give him rank comparable with that of the military and naval commanders who might visit havana with the fleets of spain. but the same title with real authority over the fortifications and defenses of havana, and indeed a measure of authority over the fortifications and defenses of the entire island, was to be given to another man. the man selected for the new captain-generalship was a practical soldier of experience named diego hernandez de quiñones. he took office in july, , and found la fuerza substantially complete, save for the construction of a moat, and containing a garrison of men, the majority of whom were always more or less sick because of the dampness and unsanitary conditions of the place. the fortress had been completed, however, in some respects in a highly unsatisfactory way. thus there was no stairway inside the building connecting the lower and upper stories. there was a stairway on the outside of the building, constructed of wood and it was obvious that in case of attack that stairway might easily be destroyed by cannon shot and thus communications between the two stories of the fortress be cut off. the moat had not yet been constructed, and numerous wooden and even some masonry houses had been constructed close to the fort, which might give sheltered approach to an attacking party. the king and the council obviously apprehended some friction between the governor and the newly appointed captain-general, and they therefore prepared an elaborate code of rules and regulations intended to avert such trouble and to conduce to harmonious co-operation between the two officials. thus it was provided that in all matters of law relating exclusively to the soldiers, the captain-general should have entire jurisdiction. in all matters relating entirely to civilians, the governor should have jurisdiction. in cases in which both soldiers and civilians were concerned the two officials should act together with concurrent jurisdiction, and in case they could not agree the senior royal official at havana should act as umpire between them. this plan seemed fair enough and was expected to work well. but luzan immediately protested against the whole scheme with much vigor and even violence of speech. in this he was heartily supported by the town council of havana. when his protests were ignored by the crown, or at least were not favorably heeded, he asked to be relieved from office as governor and to be assigned to duty elsewhere. this request the king refused to grant, at the same time bidding luzan to avoid any quarrel or disagreement with quiñones. in spite of this admonition within a few weeks a bitter quarrel arose over the case of a soldier and a civilian who had had some strife over an alleged insult offered by the soldier to a young woman. from this there developed a bitter feud between the governor and the captain-general which soon became apparently irreconcilable. each reviled the other, not only in his public capacity but in relation to his private life and morals. the partisans of each took up the strife and the entire city was soon involved in it. such was the deplorable state of affairs, when, as already related, torquemada began his investigations. he found affairs in what seemed to him as bad a state as possible. the city of havana, and indeed the entire island of cuba, were rent by faction. the governor and the captain-general each had a band of armed retainers in havana, and these were at the point of open conflict which would amount practically to civil war. regarding the emergency as critical, torquemada acted promptly and strenuously. he ordered both the governor and the captain-general under arrest, commanding luzan to remain within his own dwelling and quiñones to remain within la fuerza. then he literally read the riot act to them both. he reproved them scathingly for their lack of loyalty to the king in letting personal animosities and jealousies have sway over their sense of duty. he secured from each a full statement of his complaints and grievances against the other. then he compelled them to submit their cases to a tribunal consisting of himself, the captain of a mexican fleet who happened to be visiting havana, and two judges of the supreme court of hispaniola. as a result of the deliberations of this tribunal the two men were compelled to shake hands and pledge friendship and co-operation. they were then released from arrest and told to attend to their respective duties without any more nonsense. this did not halt torquemada, however, in his investigation of the general conduct of luzan's administration in other respects than the quarrel with quiñones. the charges which were made against the governor were of a very serious character. it was said that he had interfered with the administration of justice by preventing people who had grievances from communicating with the courts or with the royal government in spain. he had defied the authority of the supreme court in hispaniola and treated it with contempt. he had enriched himself by taking bribes. he had encouraged desertions of soldiers from the garrison of la fuerza. he had interfered with the functions of the royal treasurer and other officials. in view of these accusations torquemada ordered luzan to relinquish the exercise of all official functions until the truth or falsity of the charges could be determined. then he removed from havana to bayamo and summoned luzan to follow him thither in order that the case might be tried in a place free from the local influence of havana. luzan obeyed the order but at the same time sent his sister to spain to intercede with the king and the council for the indies, and also sent her husband to hispaniola to plead his cause before the supreme court. the result was that in mid august of the supreme court reversed torquemada's order and authorized luzan to resume the full exercise of his powers and functions as governor. luzan at once did so and immediately the old quarrel with quiñones was resumed. so furious did their strife become that within three months the supreme court reversed its own orders and restored that of torquemada. at this quiñones cast off all restraint and summarily ordered luzan to leave havana and to go to santiago to protect that place against the hostile raiders who were hourly expected to descend upon the cuban coast. luzan demurred, whereupon quiñones threatened him with arrest. thereupon luzan left havana, but instead of going to santiago went to guanabacoa and thence by slow degrees to bayamo, where he opportunely arrived, as we shall see, at the beginning of january, . in the interim the civil affairs of havana were conducted by the town council until the end of , when one of menendez's soldiers, pedro guerra de la vega, was sent by the supreme court of hispaniola to serve as mayor. he got on well enough with quiñones, but not with rojas, the royal treasurer, who frankly declared him unfit for office and charged him with possessing a too itching palm. his administration of affairs seems to have been confined to purely local matters and, as we shall see, in a very short time, before the spring of , luzan was again exercising his full civil authority as governor, though still most of the time absent from havana. quiñones was also in full authority as captain-general, and these two former enemies were acting together in complete accord. this radical change in the aspect of affairs was due to an impending crisis, the most serious thus far in the history of the island. a new enemy had arisen, far more formidable than any the island had yet known. for years cuba had been harried by french privateers often little better than pirates, but now the english rovers of the sea began to infest the spanish main. in sir francis drake entered upon his memorable voyage around the world, defiantly navigating that south sea which spain has regarded as exclusively her own, and ravaging the peruvian treasure ships even more ruthlessly than the french had preyed upon those of mexico. early in luzan's administration warnings were given that this bold adventurer was planning a descent upon the west indies and probably, therefore, upon cuba. this menace naturally caused great alarm at havana and throughout the island, and urgent appeals were made to the royal government and also to the viceroy in mexico for aid. it was represented that galleys were needed to patrol and to defend the coast. artillery was needed for la fuerza and for other fortifications at havana and elsewhere. a larger garrison was also needed for la fuerza. to these and other like appeals the king made no satisfactory reply. he apparently had no galleys nor men to spare for the defense of the island. the best he would do was to direct luzan to utilize his own resources to the full. a military census of the island was to be taken, the first in its history, and all available men including indians and negroes, were to be mustered into service. the result of this enrolment, which was made in the spring of , was unsatisfactory. in havana itself only men fit for service could be found, and no other town on the island could furnish more than a quarter as many. they were, moreover, chiefly men unused to arms and therefore of little prospective value against the formidable fighting men whom drake was reported to have in his train. as for la fuerza, sickness and desertion had so depleted its garrison that not a score of able-bodied men were left. quiñones gathered in reinforcements of or , chiefly young and inexperienced men and thus raised the apparently effective strength to something less than , when more than were considered necessary. two small brass cannon and a supply of powder and small arms came from spain, and luzan either purchased or requisitioned from a visiting ship four more small cannon. the governor also destroyed, by burning, all the houses which had been built close to la fuerza so as to leave an open zone of considerable strength around that fortress. despite the conflict between luzan and quiñones already recorded, some substantial progress was made, especially by the latter, in strengthening the defenses of havana to meet the coming storm. la fuerza was improved in various respects, though it was impossible to get rid of the dampness which pervaded the place. on the punta at the entrance to the harbor trenches were dug and a gun platform was built. the efficiency of these was unsparingly ridiculed by the royal treasurer, rojas, and indeed quiñones himself soon realized their unsatisfactory character. he therefore undertook the construction of the real fort, and by the end of had it sufficiently completed to permit the mounting of eight pieces of artillery. he then declared that if he were properly supplied with powder and shot he could defend havana against all comers. he did not wish more soldiers, and indeed he strongly protested against the levies from mexico for which luzan had sent. during the spring of about men did arrive from mexico under a captain who looked to luzan and not to quiñones for orders; a circumstance which naturally added to the confusion and conflict of authority. but after a few months luzan himself agreed with quiñones in regarding the men as practically worthless, and assented to their shipment back to mexico. chapter xxi such, then, was the state of affairs when in war began between spain and england. english adventurers infested spanish territory on the main land in the northern part of the vast region which the spanish still called florida. they planned an english colony at the bay of santa maria and renamed that place "roanoke" and they also renamed that part of florida after the queen of england; calling it "virginia." the news of this invasion appears to have been known in cuba, by the way of southern florida, before it was known in spain, and a fleet vessel was accordingly sent from havana to bear the tidings to the king and to ask for further protection from cuba. there was a period of hesitancy and uncertainty, and then the storm broke. on january th, , sir francis drake landed in hispaniola and occupied the city of santo domingo, the nominal capital of all the spanish west indies. some of the judges of the supreme court at that place escaped and fled to cuba, where they arrived a week later with the startling news. luzan, as already related, was then at bayamo, and it was there that he received the news. he was startled and alarmed, but appears not to have been panic stricken. indeed he acted with coolness and judgment and in a manner which must be regarded as going far toward redeeming his reputation from the reproaches which he had formerly incurred. discreetly assuming that drake's attack upon cuba, whenever it was made, would be not at bayamo but at the capital and metropolis itself, his first thought was for havana. immediately upon receiving the news from santo domingo he dispatched horsemen across country from bayamo to havana to bear the tidings to quiñones, bidding them also to spread the news through all the country as they went and to command all towns to marshal all available men and send them on to havana for the reinforcement of that place. as soon as possible he also sent two vessels from bayamo to havana laden with men and supplies. ignoring their former quarrels in the face of the common danger he wrote to quiñones outlining his plans for a defense of the island and urging that an appeal should be sent to mexico for aid, from which country it could be procured much more quickly than from spain. then he hastened to santiago and from that port sent two vessels to spain to tell the king what had happened at santo domingo and what was being done to avert, if possible, a like calamity at havana. the governor's appeals to the various municipalities were not without effect. the people of cuba seemed to be aroused by the imminence of danger to a better degree of public spirit than they had ever before manifested. bayamo, sancti spiritus, puerto principe, and even poor little trinidad, the smallest and weakest town of the island, contributed men and arms to their full ability, and when at the beginning of may these levies were mustered in havana they numbered more than efficient men, tolerably well armed. luzan himself remained at bayamo, in the absence of orders or even permission to return to havana, professing readiness and eagerness to serve the king there or elsewhere, wherever he could be of most use. at havana quiñones was in command, loyally supported by the town council, the royal officials and the entire community. even the austere and censorious rojas, the royal treasurer, who had been the bitter critic and opponent of quiñones, forgot his animosity and hastened to offer his services in any capacity in which they might be utilized. it is related that rojas, despite his years, his wealth and his social dignity, worked as a common laborer with pick-axe and shovel in digging trenches and throwing up breastworks for the fortification of the town, thus setting an example which left no other citizen any excuse for shirking duty and indeed went far toward inspiring the whole community with patriotic fervor. a proclamation was also issued by the mayor, pedro de la vega, addressed to all citizens who, because of debts, quarrels, crimes, or other causes, had sought sanctuary in the church or gone into hiding in the jungle, asking them to come forward and aid in the defense of havana, and promising them immunity from arrest or prosecution and a period of a fortnight's grace in which to return to their asylums or their hiding places after the need of their services was ended. this extraordinary call was responded to by scores of fugitives. there was no neglect, either, in preparation for the defense of the suburbs of havana. chorrera was generally regarded not only as a possible but as a very probable landing point for the invaders, from which a march could be made by land against havana. it was not practicable to fortify the place strongly enough to prevent the landing of any considerable force, but a small camp was established there, occupied by a company of horsemen, who were to keep watch day and night for the approach of the enemy, and upon his first appearance were to ride post-haste to havana with the news. the first horseman was to set out the moment the enemy was sighted in the distance. a second was to follow as soon as the fleet was near enough for the number of vessels and their approximate strength and men and guns to be determined. a third would set out the moment the enemy's intention, either of landing there or of proceeding on to havana, was ascertained. a fourth would wait until the enemy was actually landing and his numbers could be determined, and would then hasten after the others with the news. nearer the city there were several other possible landing places at inlets of the coast and some of these were fortified with earth-works and artillery. chief among these was the inlet of san lazaro, where in addition to earth works an enclosed fort of timber, stone and earth was constructed with several cannons mounted on a platform. at the entrance to the harbor of havana itself the strongest preparations were made. at punta a dozen guns were in readiness to make that the chief point of defense outside of la fuerza itself. much attention was given to all roads leading into the city for several miles around; particularly toward the west from which direction the attack was chiefly expected. some of the roads were blocked altogether, others were mined and provided with pitfalls. still others were screened and hidden with trees and brushwood so as to serve as secret means of passage for the spaniards in advancing against or retreating from the enemy, and these were so mined that after having served their purpose to the spaniards they could be readily destroyed. elsewhere trees, underbrush and jungle were cleared away so that there would be no cover nor concealment for the invading force. trenches and earth-works were constructed between la fuerza and punta, and the former fortress was provisioned and prepared for a siege. special parapets of timber, stone and earth were constructed upon the top of the fort, and numerous houses and other buildings near it were destroyed in order that there might be no shelter for an attacking force. nor was the possibility of an attack from the eastward overlooked. on the morro headland at the important entrance a battery of three guns was placed, well protected by breast-works of timber, stone and earth, and the coast from morro to matanzas was continually patrolled by horsemen on the lookout for the coming of strange vessels, and under orders similar to those which had been given to the watchmen at chorrera. as for the harbor itself, a great chain was stretched across its entrance buoyed with logs and fastened with a huge padlock at the foot of the morro headland. finally the few swift sailing vessels which could be mustered into the service were kept cruising off the shore to espy the approaching squadron. they were not sufficiently strong to give battle, but they could give warning to the city. also they could bear to spain or to mexico tidings of what occurred. thus one vessel lay in the estuary of the puercos river, ready to flee to mexico, while another cruised around ycacos point, to hasten to spain to tell if havana should fall into the hands of the foe. meanwhile in havana itself all possible forces were mustered for defense. the volunteers from the other towns were drilled into an efficient state of discipline. such was their zeal that they gladly served without pay while a considerable number of them in addition provided their own rations at their own cost. for the necessary expenses of their maintenance rojas, the royal treasurer, used what royal funds were in hand regardless of the purpose for which they had been designed, and when these were insufficient he collected taxes without authority, on the principle that the safety of the city and island was the supreme law. at the beginning of april some welcome aid arrived from mexico, which even quiñones was now glad to have. the viceroy sent four vessels, bearing about fighting men, with six months' supplies of food and with pay for eight months in advance. these increased the force under quiñones to more than well-trained soldiers. during the month of april luzan arrived from bayamo with nearly more men, thus increasing the garrison of havana to about , . this was a force which the captain-general confidently believed would be able to resist and to repulse any force which drake might be able to land. luzan had meantime, in february, received from spain orders to resume the governorship of the island with full power, to return to havana, and to consider his term of office indefinitely prolonged. he had been appointed in for a term of four years and had assumed office in , so that his original term was by this time long since expired. reckoning the four years from his actual assumption of office in the summer of his term had ended in . if his return to havana was not altogether agreeable to quiñones, and it is quite probable that it was not, at least a semblance of harmony was preserved between them, and there was certainly efficient if not cordial co-operation. to this auspicious state of affairs the royal treasurer contributed in no small degree. in fact, in the face of the great peril which confronted it, all cuba arose to the occasion with a unity of public spirit never before known in its history, and wholly admirable. all the officials, civil and military, insular and royal, were in accord, and all classes of the population, spaniards, indians and negro slaves were loyal and devoted in their support. in these circumstances it is of fascinating interest to speculate upon what might have happened had drake made the expected descent upon havana. it is well within the limit not only of possibility but of probability that he would have been decisively defeated. it is even possible that in the conflict with more than a thousand well-armed, well trained and resolute spaniards, than whom there were then no braver or better fighting men in all the world, he would himself have been captured or slain. and such a disposition of francis drake in the summer of , only two years before the descent of the invincible armada upon the shores of england, might well have changed the history of the world. but this was not to be. some say that drake did not intend to attack havana at that time, preferring to raid carthagena, as he did. some say that by means of spies he ascertained the strength of havana's defenses and deemed it, therefore, prudent not to meddle with that place. some say that there was an interposition of providence to dissuade him from what might have been a disastrous fiasco. we have also, as we shall presently see, the testimony of some spanish fugitives, which is entirely plausible, though not certainly correct. conjecture is inconclusive. only the fact remains that drake passed by and left cuba unassailed. from the latter part of february until the beginning of may no word of his doings came to havana; anxiety meanwhile prevailing and preparations for his anticipated arrival being unabated. at last word came, most ominous. a vessel from spain, a heavily armed frigate, had been searching for drake. it had tracked him from santo domingo to carthagena, and had found him in full possession of the latter place. there apparently, after two months' occupancy, he was preparing for some fresh adventure. this information convinced the cuban authorities that the great struggle was at hand, and that the approach of the enemy would be from the westward by way of cape san antonio. after despoiling carthagena drake's logical course would be to raid havana, and preparations for defense were therefore redoubled. nor were these anticipations soon to be dispelled. a few weeks later, on may th, a courier arrived from cape san antonio, the western extremity of the island, with the news that five days before a powerful british armada, doubtless drake's, had touched at that point for fresh water and other supplies. it was no mere raiding flotilla of privateers, such as those with which the french had long been troubling the cuban coasts, but it was a fleet of thirty-sail, probably with two or three thousand soldiers aboard, and with artillery far superior both in number and range to all the defenses of havana. the courier could not tell what the intentions of the fleet were or what was its destination. possibly it was simply seeking to anticipate and capture the treasure ships of spain coming from mexico or from darien with the silver, gold and gems of peru and golden castile. more probably it was planning the conquest of havana, as santo domingo and carthagena had been conquered. this latter supposition seemed to be confirmed two days later, when another messenger arrived from the west, telling that it was indeed drake's fleet and that it had sailed from cape san antonio eastward toward havana. in a minor measure havana and all cuba now anticipated the feelings which england had two years later upon the approach of the invincible armada. every man was summoned to his appointed place in the scheme of defense and insistent vigilance was maintained night and day. for this there was full need. within an hour of the arrival of this second messenger from the west a spanish ship from mexico came flying into the port of havana with half a dozen english ships in hot pursuit. she passed punta and gained safety before they came up, the big chain being slackened to let her pass within and then tightened again to shut out her pursuers. they did not, however, attempt to enter the harbor. one came so near as to draw a few shots from the guns of the morro fort and then withdrew without returning fire. but an hour later eight more english sails appeared, making fourteen in all. evidently the crisis was at hand. every available man in havana was in his place. every available cannon was double-shotted and trained upon the spot at which the english vessels would first come within range. there was, however, no panic, no confusion. all men were resolute, confident and in high spirits. all night long sentinels watched the english fleet expecting to see it send boat loads of men ashore; ready to signal the news with beacon fires and torches. but all night long the english fleet lay dark and silent in the offing. the morning of may dawned. it was clear and bright, the sea was smooth, the wind just sufficient to fill the sails. there could be no fitter day for a landing or for an approach to the harbor to bombard the forts and city. the sentinels on morro counted all thirty of drake's vessels, drawn up in line. now and then one swept out in pursuit of some incautious or uninformed coasting vessel, but did not go far. the whole fleet maintained order as if in preparation for some great concerted operation. hours passed and nothing was done. at mid-afternoon some boats were sent toward the shore near chorrera, and the watchers on morro signaled to la fuerza that a landing was being made; only a little later to recall the tidings as those of a false alarm. night came on, and again under cover of darkness it was imagined that drake's men were seen approaching chorrera. every man in havana remained awake with arms in hand, but the night waned and daylight showed the fleet still motionless and the shore at chorrera still untouched. thus for three days and nights the tension was maintained. the thirty english vessels lay off havana, firing not a shot, sending not a man ashore, and making no sign of their commander's purpose. then the suspense was ended, to the relief of many but to the disappointment of some. on june th the english fleet spread all its canvas and sailed away, heading north and east, and vanished forever from the sight of the watchers at havana. not the cuban capital but the chief city of florida was to be its prey, and presently word came back that drake had attacked and captured the town and fortress of st. augustine, which menendez had built and in the building of which he had drawn so sorely upon the scanty resources of cuba. quiñones regretted that havana had not been attacked, confident that the result would have been disastrous to the assailants. he took, however, all possible precautions against a surprise by a possible return of the english fleet. the coast patrols to matanzas and beyond were maintained and vessels were sent out as scouts to follow in drake's track and watch for his turning. but no more was seen of drake or heard of him until the end of june. then word came of his destruction of st. augustine and of his departure thence to the northward, on some unknown errand. it was supposed that he had gone straight home. in fact, he went first to virginia to visit the english colony at roanoke and to take back to england its few discouraged survivors. thus relieved from fear of invasion havana rejoiced and gave a most practical turn to its thanksgiving by sending a vessel or two richly laden with supplies to the relief of the hapless people of st. augustine, many of whom had been former residents of cuba. meantime some explanation, as we have already seen, came to havana of the reason for drake's failure to take that place. several spaniards whom drake had captured at carthagena, had contrived to make their escape from him when he touched at cape san antonio, and after much wandering found their way to havana. they reported that on the way from carthagena to cuba the english fleet had been sorely afflicted with disease including scurvy and possibly also yellow fever, so that many persons died and many more were incapacitated. moreover his vessels were crowded with captives and with plunder. in these circumstances he was obviously in no condition to attack so strong a place as havana, and in a conference with his captains he practically decided to pass by that place and to seek cooler northern latitudes where his sick men might more speedily recover. havana's deliverance was santiago's disaster. the preparations for the defense of the former city had drawn thither the fighting strength of the entire island. men, munitions, even artillery, had been stripped from all other places for havana's sake. even after the departure of drake, and after it was known that he had at least for the time abandoned his designs against havana, the forces were still retained at the capital. this, of course, was known to the foes of cuba and of spain, as well as to havana itself, and there were those who were not slow to take advantage of it. french privateers were still hostile and were raiding spanish ports wherever opportunity afforded, and the stripping of santiago for havana's defense gave such opportunity. so at the very time when havana learned that drake had taken carthagena and was on his way to the cuban capital, two french vessels appeared off santiago with hostile intent. a demand was made for food, which the town authorities refused. probably the demand was a mere pretext. at any rate the refusal of it was the signal for immediate attack. from noon to night of may nd the battle raged, the spaniards, only a handful of men, displaying invincible valor in circumstances of desperate difficulty. the leader of the defense was a parish priest who was badly wounded by one of his own men. one other spaniard was killed by the explosion of a wretched little cannon which had been pressed into service, all good guns having been taken to havana. but these were the only spanish losses. on the other hand, one of the french ships, going aground, was almost destroyed by the spanish fire before her consort could pull her off. and the two riddled with shot were at last glad to make their escape in flight, throwing overboard as they sailed away more than a score of bodies of men killed by the spanish musketeers. it was too much to hope, however, that this repulse of the french would prove final. it would almost certainly be followed with a stronger attack for vengeance, and santiago made what scanty preparations it could to meet the coming storm. gomez de rojas, a member of the illustrious family whose members played so great a part in early cuban history, was at that time the deputy of the governor in that part of the island, making his headquarters at bayamo. a few days before this attack on santiago he and his men had killed seven frenchmen and captured ten more under the lead of a notorious freebooter. the heads of the seven he displayed on pikes at bayamo, and on the very day when the two french vessels reached santiago he hanged eight of the ten prisoners. it is recorded that the trial of these men was not yet concluded. but rojas grimly observed that the trial could be finished after the hanging just as well as before, as there could be no doubt as to what the verdict and the sentence would be. for this ruthless proceeding the bishop, salcedo, reprimanded and indeed excommunicated rojas, and there was danger that thus disastrous dissension would arise among the spaniards. but rojas, who seems to have been a diplomat as well as a soldier and administrator, contrived to make peace with the bishop, and all was well. of such unity there was sore need. for a few days later a squadron of seven french ships, carrying soldiers, appeared off santiago. to meet them santiago, with all possible aid from bayamo and the country around could number less than men, some say not more than , indifferently armed and with only a few pounds of gunpowder. for several days the french vessels lay off santiago, frequently firing upon the town at a range at which their own cannon were effective but at which the spaniards, with far inferior guns and little ammunition, were quite helpless. however, the french made no attempt at landing, a circumstance which for a time puzzled the spaniards. then came the explanation. while their fleet lay directly before santiago the french had put men ashore at zuragua, and these were advancing upon santiago over land. as soon as this was known a little force of spaniards and indians was sent out to meet them, with only two or three rounds of ammunition to each man. they met in unequal battle and the spaniards lost five men. but they killed twenty frenchmen before they were completely exhausted and were compelled to surrender. another detachment of thirty spaniards kept up a good fight at the landing place in santiago until their ammunition was exhausted and then they retreated to the hills. the french fire from the ships destroyed more than half the town, and the troops who were then landed demolished most of the remaining buildings. then a hasty retreat was made, presumably through fear of the rumored approach of the powerful spanish fleet, which unfortunately did not materialize. gomez de rojas had been at bayamo when this attack began. as soon as he heard of it he hastened on horseback to santiago, but arrived in time only to see the last french sail vanish in the distance. had he been there it is not certain that he could have saved the town. indeed it is probable that he could not have done so. but it is certain that he saved it after the event. so completely had santiago been demolished by the french that many of the people were determined not to attempt to rebuild but to abandon the place and go elsewhere. a council of war was held on may , at a country house a league inland from the ruined city, at which all the officials and most of the citizens of santiago were present. rojas was, fortunately, the presiding officer. the military commander, captain camacho, told of what had happened and what the condition of the place was. it had no military strength. there was not a pound of powder or shot left. the few pieces of artillery which had not been captured or destroyed were concealed in the woods, but were of course useless without ammunition. fewer than a score of houses were standing. the cathedral and the monastery had been destroyed, though the hospital and a church had received little damage. there was, he believed, nothing left to serve as the nucleus of a rebuilt town. much discussion followed his report. some were resolute for rebuilding the place, which they regarded rightly as the birthplace of the spanish settlement of cuba. others were equally bent on abandoning it altogether and migrating to havana or elsewhere. opinions were so evenly divided that it was finally agreed to suspend decision until one other leading citizen, who was absent from the meeting, could be heard from, with the understanding that his vote should be decisive. then it was that gomez de rojas rose to the height of the occasion. he ascertained secretly that this missing citizen was in favor of abandoning santiago and would so declare himself. determined to forestall and to prevent such a decision and thus to save the town, rojas immediately ordered the clergy to celebrate mass next morning. he ordered the town authorities to put all the remaining buildings in order for occupancy and to repair those which had been damaged. he ordered every man in town to appear at the church that morning, ready for any action which might be needed. he ordered the town council to meet as usual the next day. he ordered the market to be opened at once, and artisans to get to work and the indians to burn the bodies of the frenchmen who had been killed in battle, and in brief he ordered everybody in santiago to get to work to rehabilitate the town. the sheer energy of this one strong man carried the day, and santiago arose from its ruins larger and more important than ever before, though it was never again to be the capital of all cuba. havana had already for several years been practically, though without full authority, the capital of the island. the formal and authoritative change was made a few years later, in . during the administration of governor luzan there was some renewed interest in copper mining in cuba, although the wealth of the island in that metal was not yet appreciated. in what was supposed to be an immensely rich mine was discovered, but it proved to be a mere "pocket" of limited extent. that disappointment, together with the cost of transportation from the neighborhood of santiago to havana for shipment, discouraged further efforts for a time. but in may, , after inspection of the cobre mine, near santiago, the governor reported to the spanish government: "there is so much metal, and the mines are so numerous, that they could supply the world with copper." comparatively little was done, however, until , when effective work was begun at el cobre. the ore was conveyed to havana for smelting and casting, and on the site of the present maestranza building there was established a foundry where copper was cast into both cannon and kettles. chapter xxii it is an interesting circumstance that what threatened to be a great disaster to cuba proved in fact to be one of the greatest blessings that the island had enjoyed since the spanish settlement. we have already seen how great an alarm was caused at havana and throughout cuba by the threatened attack of the british under sir francis drake and how fine a degree of public spirit and unity among all classes was thereby inspired. the threatened attack did not occur, and it was many years before an actual british conquest or even invasion of the island was effected. but the lessons learned in that period of agitation and after were not speedily forgotten, either in cuba or in spain. therefore, a much larger degree of public spirit and of unity prevailed in the island, among the government officers and among the people, while the spanish crown was awakened to a fuller realization than ever before of the value of cuba and the imperative necessity of defending the island if the integrity of the spanish empire in the western hemisphere was to be maintained. it was then that philip ii began to appreciate cuba as the bulwark of the west indies and of the city of havana, its capital, as the key to the new world. hitherto cuba had been nothing but a stepping stone between spain on the one hand and mexico, darien and florida on the other; and havana was merely a convenient base of operations and a port of call. but now the immense strategical importance of havana was realized, while the value of the island, in its products of copper, wood, sugar, hides and other commodities, was appreciated. governor luzan administered the affairs of cuba until the end of march, . on that day he was succeeded by juan de tejada, a field marshal of the spanish army. he was selected by the king chiefly because of his military experience and knowledge, and he was the first of the line of governors of cuba to be known as captain-general. in him were merged both the civil and the military authority of the island, so that there would no longer be any such friction as had prevailed between luzan and quiñones. tejada was speedily commissioned by the king to make plans for the fortification of cuba and also of the other important islands of the spanish west indies. he was accordingly accompanied on his coming to cuba by one of the most distinguished italian engineers of that age, juan bautista antonelli. together they surveyed the port of havana, the port of san juan in porto rico, and that of carthagena in colombia and planned powerful defenses for them all. there fortifications were in fact constructed under the direction of antonelli and to this day bear impressive testimony to his skill. his first attention was paid, most properly, to havana. already there had been constructed temporary fortifications at la punta and el morro, and also a camp more of observation than of defense at san lazaro cove, probably where the queen's battery stood in later years. both captain-general tejada and antonelli were quick to see the importance of the punta and morro fortifications and to approve those headlands as the sites of the most powerful fortifications of havana. plans were accordingly made for extensive masonry forts at both those places, and these were approved and very prompt execution ordered by the king. funds for the work were obtained from mexico, from which source also appropriations were received for the maintenance of la fuerza with its garrison of men. the work of antonelli in cuba was by no means confined, however, to military engineering. he laid out and constructed a number of roads, including some which are to this day principal streets of havana and its suburbs. he also constructed a dam across the chorrera river and an aqueduct by means of which an ample water supply was conveyed to havana and distributed through the city. for by this time it must be understood havana was rapidly growing into a populous and prosperous community and was already the assured metropolis of the island and indeed one of the three or four chief centres of spanish civilization and authority in the western world. it was during the administration of tejada that the technical legal title of "city" was conferred upon havana, and the place received the grant of a coat-of-arms. its escutcheon bore the emblems of a crown, underneath it in a blue field three silver fortresses, emblematic of la fuerza, la punta and el morro, and finally a golden key symbolic of havana's importance as the key of the western world. the administration of tejada lasted a little more than five years and was marked with almost unbroken peace, prosperity and progress. the new fortifications of havana were not all completed in that time, but they were carried far toward completion and the work upon them was marked with no such difficulties and complications as had been the bane of la fuerza. the one exception to the rule of peace and harmony which prevailed during the administration of captain-general tejada was a controversy with bishop salcedo, who was then in charge of the diocese. because of some differences of policy concerning the finances of the colony and the church, salcedo bitterly criticised tejada and even cast unfavorable reflections upon his integrity, which we must regard as unwarranted. to these attacks, however, tejada gave little or no attention, and the peace of cuba was therefore not materially disturbed by the incident. it seems probable that the bishop desired larger revenues than the straitened condition of cuban affairs made possible. tejada indeed almost exhausted the pecuniary resources of the island in the prosecution of the much-needed works of fortification, road building, and what not, and also drew heavily upon his own private funds. he was saved from more serious embarrassment by the arrival of a treasure fleet from vera cruz, which enabled him to discharge all obligations and to place a fund of , ducats in the insular treasury for future needs. at this period, it is interesting to recall, the salary of the governor, or captain-general, was only , pesos a year, that of the alcalde of el morro was , reales, that of the alcalde of la punta was , reales, and that of the sergeant-mayor was , reales. the total yearly budget of the island was about , pesos. it is gratifying to know that tejada's fine services were appreciated by the royal government. his insistent resignation was accepted in april, , with sincere regret, and he was made a knight commander of the order of st. james and was placed in charge of the castle and district of la barlete, at naples. tejada's successor, the second captain-general of cuba, was juan maldonado barrionuevo, who took office in july, . this distinguished servant of the crown had been an equerry to the queen of spain and treasurer of the invincible armada which had come to grief a few years before in the narrow seas. he was also a knight of the military order of st. james. having had, while with the armada, a taste of drake's quality, and learning that that formidable commander was meditating another descent upon cuba he gave his first and best attention to hastening the completion of the fortifications of havana. drake was indeed at that very time in spanish-american waters planning disaster to every seaport within reach, but disagreement between himself and other officers of the fleet made the entire expedition a failure and led, probably, to the death of drake himself in . learning of drake's death maldonado sent out an expedition to attack the british fleet as it was returning from darien and succeeded in capturing one of its vessels and putting the others to flight near the isle of pines. this triumph over the much feared british fleet caused great rejoicing throughout cuba and immensely encouraged the government and the people in their hope of making a successful stand against british aggressions. despite the growth and importance of havana it must be remembered that at this time that city was still in a very primitive condition. the great majority of the houses were still built of cedar or pine boards with thatched roofs. they were so scattered, even in the heart of the city, that it was possible to have gardens and orchards around them. there were some houses of substantial masonry two or three stories in height. and the rich cedar, mahogany and other woods native to cuba made it possible to finish and furnish them in very rich style. the houses of the rich were lighted with lamps of bronze or other metal, generally fed with olive oil, and those of the poor with candles made of suet. the streets were unlighted save by an occasional lantern at the entrance to some house. and they were so infested not only with stray dogs but with vagabonds and ruffians that it was unsafe for citizens to go abroad after dark without an armed guard. social and domestic customs, which had at first been kept after those of spain itself, by this time began to have an individuality suited to the circumstances and conditions of life on the island. it was the custom to have the chief meal of the day at noon and a lighter supper quite late in the evening, probably between eight and ten o'clock. it is interesting to record that during the administration of maldonado occurred the first theatrical performance in the history of cuba. this was on the night of st. john, in the year , and the performance took place in honor of the captain-general in the great hall of the military barracks. it is recorded that on assembling the audience was so noisy that it was impossible to begin the performance until threats had been made of serious physical punishment. despite this vexatious incident the people were so delighted with the performance that when it came to an end they unanimously clamored for its repetition although by this time it was one o'clock in the morning. the sugar industry was now rising to great importance, especially in the vicinity of havana and thence toward matanzas. the largest of all the sugar mills in the island was that founded by anton recia at guaicanama, now known as regla. in a royal decree was issued bestowing upon the sugar mills of cuba the same favor that was formerly granted to those of hispaniola, namely, the exemption of the buildings, machinery, negro slaves and in fact all other property from seizure or attachment for debt. the sugar plantations were somewhat hampered at this time by lack of labor, and on that account the importation of negro slaves was encouraged and hundreds were brought in every year. in fact, negro slavery was by this time fully established as the principal reliance of the industries of the island. it was recognized that cuba was a land of inestimable wealth, particularly in agriculture. stock raising was the chief industry, but sugar growing was rising in importance, while the production of honey and wax was also a widespread and highly lucrative occupation. of all industries sugar growing was the most laborious and called, therefore, for the greatest number of slaves. each mill required from eighty to a hundred workmen. strangely enough, while the royal government strove in some ways to encourage and stimulate the sugar industry, it persisted in hampering it, at any rate in cuba, in the matter of slave labor. as far back as a decree fixed the maximum price at which slaves might be sold in the island at one hundred ducats, or about seventy pesos. yet at the same time the price fixed for slaves in venezuela was one hundred and ten ducats, and in mexico one hundred and twenty ducats. the result was inevitable. slaves were sent to venezuela and mexico rather than to cuba; or the best were sent thither and the poorest to the island. this was only one of a number of eccentricities of government, which suggested a persistent and inexplicable tendency to discriminate against cuba in favor of the other colonies. against such purblind policies the ablest administrators and the most enterprising planters and merchants struggled to little avail. it was a splendid achievement for the engineer antonelli in to tap the almendares river, west of havana, with a system of canals and aqueducts, and thus bring an abundant supply of fresh water into havana. in so doing he not merely provided the capital with one of the prime necessities of life, but he also made havana the centre of the sugar industry. for it was along these artificial watercourses that the first sugar mills were erected and operated. but this availed little while there was persistent discrimination against cuba to a degree that kept the island without a tithe of the labor which was needed for the development of its resources. we cannot, of course, approve the slave trade, or argue that it should have been followed to a greater extent than it was. but if it was to exist at all, and spain was willing and indeed determined that it should, justice and economic reason required that it should exist as freely in cuba as in the neighboring colonies. chapter xxiii the character of the european nations whose navigators and explorers had sailed around the cape of good hope and had opened to the bewildered gaze of the old world a vista of unlimited possibilities in the new, underwent a great change during the seventeenth century. acclaimed as national achievements, adding new lustre to national glory, these discoveries at first only stimulated patriotism and became an incentive to national effort. but as spain and portugal which had given to the world those men with the large vision and the undaunted courage, awakened to the importance of their exploits and began to see them from the angles of political and economic advantages, the desire to restrict those advantages to their own use became so powerful, that consideration for the interests of other nations was ignored. the spirit of imperialistic expansion was roused and demanded no less than a monopoly of the traffic and trade of the world. with this end in view the two countries adopted a protectionist policy and imposed restrictions upon mariners and merchants of other nations that in time became intolerable. the government of spain forbade its colonists in spanish america to receive european merchandise from any but spanish ports, which in turn enabled spanish exporters to demand unreasonable prices. this was resented by many colonists, and they were willing to deal with smugglers who sold this merchandise at a lower price or exchanged it for the produce of the colonies, especially for hides and sugar. the governors of santo domingo were among the first in the colonies to take steps against this trade. they fitted out small vessels, which they called guardacostas, coastguards, and had them patrol all along the coast. if they succeeded in capturing the smugglers, they proceeded against them with little ceremony. they were either thrown overboard or hanged. this summary process having stirred in the smugglers the spirit of vindictiveness, they organized for concerted action, determined to resist what they considered unwarranted severity and cruelty. they began to group into fleets, and openly invaded the coasts, burning, plundering, marauding and killing. they looked about for suitable places where to establish settlements of their own that could be used as bases of operation in the neighborhood. hispaniola or hayti, where the natives had been almost exterminated and which by misgovernment was nearly deserted, invited them. herds of cattle and swine were running wild about the island and offered not only valuable provisions for themselves, but promised to become marketable commodities. some french smugglers settled there, killed the cattle and swine, smoked the beef and salted the pork, and opened a remunerative trade with visiting sailors in these commodities as also in tallow and hides. the indians of the island called smoked beef "boucan"; hence these traders were called boucaniers which was anglicized into buccaneers. in a similar way the english freebooter was by the french corrupted into flibustier and later came back to us as filibuster. at first the term boucanier was limited to the smugglers and traders in smoked beef living on land, while the flibustier was applied to the smuggler and trader living on board of a ship. but later these nice distinctions were ignored and the names applied indiscriminately to smugglers, freebooters and pirates. whatever term one chose to apply to them, these brethren of the coast and outlaws of the oceans became almost a recognized institution of the century when rival european powers were fighting for supremacy in the new world and were unanimously arrayed against spain. there were among them recruits from almost all nations, classes and professions. there were bankrupt shopkeepers, discharged soldiers, runaway convicts, thieves and murderers, vagabonds and adventurers and many a black sheep of good family under an assumed name. a large proportion was attracted by the possibility of getting hold of some of the unlimited treasures of gold and silver which the new world was said to hold. for the reports that had been spread by the participants in the early expeditions, not always limited to natives of spain and portugal, were so fairy-like that the classic tale of the argonauts paled into insignificance beside them. it is reported that a noted french freebooter who had joined the pirates as a runaway debtor, hoped in this way to secure enough to pay off his debts. an equally large number consisted of men who in that period of adventure were seized with an insatiable desire for roving about the world, free from all fetters of conventional life. the attitude of england, france and holland against spain was so hostile, that whenever one of these powers was at war with spain, these outlaws were granted the rights of belligerents. mariner-warriors, prepared to defend themselves and to attack by force, they became a mercenary navy at the service of any power that happened to be at war with spain. at bottom of this united effort, which at the end resulted in ruining the overseas commerce of spain, was the opposition against its restrictions of the navigation and commerce of other countries. bancroft who is referred to by pedro j. guiteras in his "historia de la isla de cuba" says in the first volume of his "history of the united states" (p. ) "the moral sense of mariners revolted at the extravagance; since forfeiture, imprisonment, and the threat of eternal woe were to follow the attempt at the fair exchanges of trade; since the freebooter and the pirate could not suffer more than menaced against the merchant who should disregard the maritime monopoly, the seas became infested by reckless buccaneers, the natural offspring of colonial restrictions. rich spanish settlements in america were pillaged; fleets attacked and captured; predatory invasions were even made on land to intercept the loads of gold, as they came from the mines, by men who might have acquired honor and wealth in commerce, if commerce had been permitted." john fiske, too, in the second volume of his "historical essays," dwells upon the causes of the enormous development of piracy in the seventeenth century. speaking of the struggle of the netherlands and england against the greatest military power of the world, he said that the former had to rely largely and the latter almost exclusively, upon naval operations, and continued: "dutch ships on the indian ocean and english ships off the american coasts effectually cut the spaniard's sinews of war. now in that age ocean navigation was still in its infancy, and the work of creating great and permanent navies was only beginning. government was glad to have individuals join in the work of building and equipping ships of war, and it was accordingly natural that individuals should expect to reimburse themselves for the heavy risk and expense by taking a share in the spoils of victory. in this way privateering came into existence and it played a much more extensive part in maritime warfare than it now does. the navy was but incompletely nationalized. into expeditions that were strictly military in purpose there entered some of the elements of a commercial speculation, and as we read them with our modern ideas we detect the smack of buccaneering." england in dealing leniently with these buccaneers sailing under her flag, argued that since the gold and silver carried from america to spain in spanish ships was used to defray the expenses of a war which threatened her, english mariners were justified in capturing these vessels and seizing such treasures. but there is little doubt that by this interpretation the doors were opened wide to all sorts of trickery and outrage, carried on regardless whether the countries under whose flags both captors and captured sailed were at the time at war or at peace. thus the naval and commercial restrictions, which spain imposed upon other countries, proved at the end a boomerang, which did irreparable loss to spain itself. for the long war with england had greatly weakened spanish power and when the peace of was concluded, the once so powerful country was visibly entering upon its downward path. philip ii, called the great, had left a son, philip iii, who had neither the personality nor the ability to continue his famous father's policy of imperialism. before long it was found that the naval power had sunk from the proud armada which had challenged england in the time of queen elizabeth to no more than thirteen galleys. ship-building practically ceased. to bring the tobacco crop from havana to spain, french and british vessels had to be hired. nothing was done to keep up the military strength of the kingdom which had once ranked as europe's greatest military power and had as such been feared by other nations. the army was composed either of inexperienced youths or of nerveless old men. the magazines and arsenals stood empty. with no ships patrolling the seas and protecting the coasts, the predatory outlaws of the ocean, sailing under various flags, soon recognized in the spanish overseas possessions a territory which upon slight effort promised to yield rich booty. cuba, santo domingo, jamaica and other west indian islands were repeatedly ravaged by them. they established settlements on st. christopher's island, called st. kitts, and on one of the bahamas, and from these bases carried on their destructive operations. notwithstanding the great progress which navigation had made during the previous century, news between the eastern and the western continent traveled slowly. this proved a serious drawback to an efficient management of the colonies which european powers had established in america. it was responsible for a great deal of confusion and for the dilatory policy which characterized the government of the spanish west indies. communication between the mother country and cuba was so irregular and unreliable that philip iii, the new king, was not proclaimed in cuba until the spring of the year . yet at no time was the fate of the island more closely linked with that of spain, whose decline profoundly affected cuba's political and economic conditions during the seventeenth century. in that most critical period for spain, when the fate of the kingdom passed from the hands of philip the great into those of his incapable successor, cuba had the good fortune of being under the administration of strong and able governors. d. juan maldonado barrienuevo, who entered upon his office in the year , did a great deal towards the improvement of the capital, starting the erection of a government house and a public prison. he recognized the great value of sugar as one of the staple products of the island and by every measure possible encouraged the cultivation of sugar cane. he obtained from the king special exemptions and privileges for the builders and owners of sugar mills. he was the first to construct that of vicente santa maria in fuente de chaves. sugar was at that time sold at fabulous prices. a cargo of sugar of inferior quality brought in seville as much as twelve pesos per arroba (twenty-five pounds). the importation of and traffic in african negroes who were set to work on the sugar plantations was inseparable from this industry which henceforth became the chief source of cuba's wealth. but maldonado, too, had troubles with the pirates. as the two galleys in the port were known to be absolutely useless, the pirates approached almost within cannon-shot of the place. the administration of d. pedro de valdes, ensign (alfevez major) of the order of santiago and nephew of the famous admiral of that name, began most auspiciously. he was appointed successor of maldonado in . a worthy heir of his uncle's glory, he started for his post from san lucas with a galleon and a galizabra (vessel used in the levantine trade) on the seventeenth of april. on his voyage he captured an enemy vessel, sailed bravely through a dutch squadron and sank three of their ships in the port of santo domingo. after putting to flight a horde of smugglers that swarmed about the coasts of cuba, he cast anchor in havana on the nineteenth of july, . valdes immediately set out to improve the artillery of the fortifications, and even to superintend the casting of the cannon. within the short space of two years he succeeded in providing the port of havana with eighty pieces of good quality and various calibre, most of which had been cast in the capital itself. frequent changes of administration had not only hampered the initiative of minor functionaries and opened the door to official malpractice of miscellaneous nature, but had also perceptibly weakened authority. valdes was determined to re-enforce it and by his energy and rectitude brought upon himself the hatred of those elements who had encouraged disorder. at the end his only loyal supporter was friar juan cabezas de altamirano, who had succeeded salcedo in the bishopric of santiago. but valdes did not mind the hostility, which was more or less openly manifested towards his government, and continued his untiring efforts in defense of spanish interests and policies. the steadily increasing wealth of these colonies excited the covetousness of the pirates and buccaneers. realizing the necessity of taking defensive action against them, valdes armed a few vessels, which under the command of his son, d. fernando, cruised about and succeeded in capturing several ships. in one of these encounters valdes was wounded, but he pursued his policy undauntedly. he was also successful in his campaign against smuggling which had extensively developed, especially in bayamo, whither he sent as his deputy the licentiate melchior suarez to inquire into the state of things. the depredations committed by the pirates at this time were so serious that the safety of the inhabitants was imperilled. the population of santiago seems to have been especially singled out to be harassed by the outlaws. they set fire to the cathedral and other churches of the town, robbed them of the precious vessels and vestments and committed other outrages. terror-stricken, the inhabitants fled to neighboring towns or hid in the country. the city faced gradual depopulation. even the bishop d. friu juan de las cabezas and some of the government officials withdrew to bayamo, which, for a time at least, offered safety. but in the year even the roads in the vicinity of bayamo were no longer safe for travelers. when the bishop was on a tour of visitation in the neighborhood, in company with the canons francisco pueblo and diego sanchez, a horde of pirates under the leadership of the notorious giron surprised him at the stock farm of yara. they tied him and took him barefoot to mazanillo, where one of their bilanders (sloops) was anchored. they kept him on board their vessel for the period of eighty days, expecting the authorities of the town to present themselves and offer an enormous sum as ransom. the name of gregorio ramos is inscribed in the annals of the island as the bishop's deliverer. it was an undertaking calling for unusual cleverness and courage and ramos acquitted himself most brilliantly. he bravely faced the redoubtable giron and rescued the bishop by paying a ransom of two hundred ducats, one thousand skins and one hundred arrobas (twenty-five pounds of sixteen ounces each) of jerked beef. after having brought the prelate into security, he returned with a force of valiant men and attacked the pirates. he succeeded in destroying the whole horde and even in killing their leader giron, whose head was triumphantly carried on the point of a lance to bayamo, where it was exhibited in the market-place. the growth of the island which then numbered from eighteen to twenty thousand inhabitants was greatly hampered by such invasions. santiago offering so little safety, the bishop ventured to suggest the removal of the cathedral to havana; but the plan was found impracticable and never carried out. in time, however, the prelates began to ignore the disapproval of the government and to install themselves in havana. other members of the ecclesiastical cabildo (chapter) followed their example and also left santiago. governor valdes, in accord with the ayuntamento, demonstrated to the king the pitiful state of the island and urged as an indispensable necessity the stationing of a permanent fleet in cuban waters. only in this way did it seem possible to check the increasing pirate menace which was paralyzing commerce and arresting the progress of the island. but the royal government at madrid, weak and helpless in the hands of an incapable sovereign, lacked stability and strength to cope with the unrest and confusion that gradually set in. the inadequate fortifications and insufficient garrison had left the coast of cuba almost without defense. knowledge of these conditions had spread among the corsairs prowling about and awaiting an opportunity to descend upon the unprotected population and made them more and more audacious. philip iii, a weak though humane ruler, had transferred the reigns of government to his favorite, the duke of lerma. but procrastination seems to have been one of the permanent features in the spanish kingdom's management of her american possessions, and little was done to insure her safety. at last the king heeded the clamorous appeals of the authorities representing his loyal but unfortunate subjects in cuba and ordered some timely steps to be taken. royal letters patent of october eighth, , arrived from madrid. in order to safeguard the interests of the inhabitants they decreed that the island be divided into two districts, an eastern and a western, with separate jurisdiction, and havana and santiago as their respective capitals. the governor of havana retained the title of captain-general of the island, but his general jurisdiction was reduced to the territory between cape san antonio and eighty leagues east of the capital. the governor of santiago was named capitan de guerra (chief military authority) with a salary of one thousand eight hundred pesos and jurisdiction over the rest of the island including puerto principe. the governor and military commander were to remain in havana, this being the most important district. as governor of santiago was appointed juan de villaverde, a castilian from the morro. he was charged with the defense of the place against pirates and other enemies disturbing the peace of the island and impeding its economic and social development. this division caused innumerable difficulties and conflicts of authority and valdes had reasons to object to it. he had established order in the treasury and other branches of the administration, and he feared that the new order might bring new confusion. in the meantime his energy and rectitude caused the plots and intrigues spun by his enemies to multiply to such an extent that they succeeded in reaching the ear of the spanish audiencia. valdes and his deputy suarez were indicted, but on proving their innocence triumphed over their slanderers by being reinstated in authority. then the audiencia reversed the trial by order of the court, and the calumniators were convicted and sentenced to various penalties. but valdes once more manifested his noble character by joining the bishop in an appeal to the king to pardon the convicted men. soon after he retired from his office. the court of spain, represented by the duke of lerma, who towards the end of his career succeeded in adding to this title that of a cardinal, seemed at this period to be deeply concerned with the religious life of cuba. this is apparent during the governorship of don gaspar luis pereda, knight of the military order of santiago, who was inaugurated on the sixteenth of june, . don juan de villaverde y oceta was appointed to the governorship of santiago. monastic orders had acquired much land on the island and established their homes. there were at that time six convents in cuba; three in havana, of the order of san franciscus, san domingo and san augustin, one of mercenarios, of the order of la merced in trinidad, and two others of the franciscan order in santiago and bayamo. the government of cuba was instructed by royal decree to inquire into and superintend the establishment of the convent of st. augustine, then in process of erection in havana. the excellent bishop cabezas, who had so signally distinguished himself during the preceding administration, was in the year promoted to the bishopric of guatemala. he was replaced by the carmelite padre don alfonso enriquez de almendariz, who immediately made efforts to have the king remove his episcopal seat to havana. this caused serious disputes between the bishop and governor pereda, who sent the king a report disapproving of this removal. the conflict between the two culminated in the excommunication of pereda by the bishop. the administration of his successor, don sancho de alquiza, former governor of venezuela and guyana, was brief. he was inaugurated on the seventh of september, , and died on the sixth of june, . he was much interested in the economic development of cuba, promoted the development of sugar industry, encouraged the employment of negroes on the plantations. his efforts to exploit the mineral wealth of the island were also commendable. he placed the supervision of the copper mines under the direction of the military government and the work proceeded most promisingly. the copper extracted was of superior quality and two thousand quintals of the metal were annually exported to spain. the sudden death of alquiza led to much agitation due to the violent spirit of rivalry between the auditor don diego vallizo and the castellan of the morro, geronimo del quero, who aspired to the governorship. a great calamity occurred in havana during this interim administration. on the twenty-second of april, , a fire broke out and assumed such disastrous proportions, that two hundred homes were destroyed and the growth of the city was for a time seriously crippled. the dangers that beset the development of cuba were rapidly multiplying instead of diminishing. frequent change of administration was not calculated to insure efficiency and stability in the management of the island's affairs. enterprises begun under one governor were interrupted under the next. sometimes the original plan was essentially changed and entirely abandoned. a striking example of this sad state of affairs was furnished during the third decade of the seventeenth century. don francisco venegas was inaugurated as governor on the fourteenth of august, . he had been charged with the organization of a war fleet for the protection of the coast from invasions by pirates and freebooters. for that purpose he had brought with him some vessels. they came at an opportune moment for british and dutch hookers had been roving in west indian waters. the vessels of the cuban armadilla under vazquez de montiel defeated these intruders at the island of tortuga, captured three of them and put their crews to the sword. but joy over this victory was offset by the epidemic of malignant fever which broke out and raged among the population. another great loss to spain was occasioned by the hurricane which in the following year sank on the reefs of los martires several vessels of the fleet that had been sent by marquis de cadreyta, d. lope diaz armendiarez, and were returning to spain with great riches. governor venegas had in obedience to instructions from his government armed an esquadron, for the maintenance of which he had imposed upon the people a special tax. but on his death, on the eighteenth of april, , it was found that the work on the fleet was far from complete, and in spite of the constant menace of invasion by pirates, nothing was heard of a resumption of the task during the governorship of his successors. the political governor who temporarily assumed the reigns of the administration was d. damian velasquez de contreras, assisted by juan esquiro saavedra as military governor. during their interimistic rule a prison was built and a new monastery established. the successor nominated in the place of venegas in the year was the governor of cartagena, don garcia giron, who, however, resigned on the twentieth of july of the same year. during the interim occasioned by his resignation the names of esquival aranda and de riva-martiz are mentioned in connection with the management of the island's affairs. there finally arrived from spain d. lorenzo de cabrera, a native of ubeda, corregido of cadiz, field-marshal and knight of the order of santiago. he was duly installed in his office on the sixteenth of september, . in the command of the morro esquival was replaced by captain cristobal de arranda and in the government of santiago rodrigo de velasco was succeeded by captain d. pedro de fonseca. during the administration of cabrera, cuba was agitated by many exciting occurrences. cabrera and the marquis de cadreyta, who commanded the fleet that had brought him to havana, made a thorough inspection of the fortifications in order to report on their condition and propose improvements. among the most urgent cabrera considered the manufacture of a copper chain to shut off the entrance to the two forts; he also had an intrenchment constructed capable of sheltering two companies. the plan to block the entrance of the port with trunks of trees in order to prevent pirates from making an entry, seems, however, to have been somewhat quixotic. as spain was then at war with the united provinces, cabrera provided for possible contingencies by furnishing the forts with large stores of provisions and took other measures to prepare for eventual attacks by the enemy. these preparations proved to be only too justified. for the dutch had fitted out an expedition against the spanish possessions in america. in june of that year there appeared a fleet of more than thirty vessels with three thousand men, commanded by pit hein, one of the most famous mariners of his time. the dutch had several encounters with the spanish fleet and were compelled to retire from havana, which they had tried to enter. they gained some advantages over the armada commanded by don juan de benavides, but in the following year the spaniards inflicted great losses upon the dutch fleet commanded by cornelius fels, driving him back from havana and capturing one of his frigates. a little pamphlet published or printed by heinrich mellort jano in amsterdam in gives the dutch version of the expedition of pit hein. it is entitled "ausführlicher bericht wie es der silber flotille herganger wann (durch wen wie und wie viel) solcherin diesem . jahr erobert fort und eingebracht." therein is related with much detail how the west india company, recognizing the rich booty which the capture of spanish ships promised, had furnished and fitted out a fleet and manned it with a crew of brave and hearty sailors and soldiers, with the avowed purpose of intercepting a silver-laden fleet returning from the colonies to spain. the dutch set out on the twentieth of may, , under the command of general petri peters heyn and admiral heinrich corneli lang. the dutch reached san antonio on the west end of cuba on the fourth of august. their arrival became known to the spaniards and on the twenty-third of that month governor cabrera dispatched some vessels to warn the silver fleet. general peters heyn sailed close up to the fortifications of havana and then turned three or four miles out to sea to meet the treasure-laden ships, which his informers had reported to be sailing in that neighborhood, but south winds drove him northeast. finally on the eighth of september the famous fleet hove in sight, and the dutch captured nine vessels, and seeing eight more, sailed briskly out to cut them off from the port of havana. the spaniards arrived at matanzas bay, hotly pursued by the dutch, and immediately organized a defensive. but they were outnumbered in the combat which ensued and laid down their arms. the dutch general and his staff offered thanks to the almighty for this great victory. the next day the ships were all secured fast by chains, and the third day the booty was unloaded from the spanish and transferred to the dutch ships. there were bars of silver, crosses, chalices, other vessels and art objects fashioned out of silver, in all weighing eighteen thousand four hundred pounds. the dutch started on their home voyage on the seventeenth of september and took with them four spanish galleons, two laden with skins and two with iron and other ore. on the twenty-sixth they reached bermuda and sent two couriers to holland to report to the directors of the west india company. the first reached rotterdam on the fifteenth of november and received from the prince of orange as reward for the good news a jewelled gold chain. to the story of the expedition is added a detailed account of the goods carried by the individual ships, which shows that they also brought dye-stuffs, oil, wine, silks, furniture and other merchandise which with the silver, other ore and skins brought the total value up to thirty millions, presumably of dutch gulden. in the meantime there sailed from cadiz an imposing squadron under the command of the marquis de valdueza and carrying as second in command the celebrated mariner d. antonio de oquendo. the object of the expedition was to clear the coasts of the islands of all the pirates which had begun to infest the antilles. off nelson's island, or nevis, so called by columbus in because the cloud-veiled summit of its highest peak reminded him of snow, they captured four dutch corsairs in a violent combat from which the island suffered seriously. in september the spanish fleet sailed for the island of san cristobal, and obtained possession of the fortifications of charles and richelieu, compelling the french filibusters who were garrisoned there to surrender. these brilliant exploits had within the brief space of eight weeks placed the spaniards in possession of two thousand three hundred prisoners, one hundred and seventy-three pieces of artillery, seven vessels and a great quantity of arms, powder and tobacco. besides losing the islands the pirates suffered a loss of property to the amount of fifty million pesos. for a time the antilles and surrounding sea enjoyed freedom from the menace that had hung over them and disturbed their tranquillity for so many years. but in spite of these successes cabrera was unpopular. by permitting a cargo of negroes to be sold in havana he had called forth heated discussion in official circles and among the people. not a few voices were heard to question his honesty. other charges, some of a grave nature, were raised against him and an investigation was demanded. in response to the island's urgent request the court of madrid sent don francisco de praga, prosecutor of the audiencia of santo domingo, to cuba, with instructions to inquire into the state of things. the charges being proved, cabrera was removed from office on the seventh of october, , and taken to spain for trial. he died in seville in a dungeon. de praga acted as provisional political governor, and the alcalde of the morro, cristobal de arranda, as military governor until the successor of cabrera arrived from spain. chapter xxiv spain was at this time gradually working her defection, political and economic. philip iii. had died in and, as he had thrown the responsibilities of the government upon the shoulders of the duke of lerma, so his successor, philip iv., left them to his favorite olivares. olivares immediately renewed the war with the united provinces, which were still a thorn in the flesh of spain, for, on being freed from the spanish yoke, they had plunged into feverish activity which portended their development into a maritime and mercantile power bound in due time to rival and surpass spain. the dutch were by the nature of their country obliged to seek their means of subsistence upon the sea and in far-off regions. their famous son, hugo grotius, had been the first to proclaim the freedom of the seas as an indispensable condition to the growth and progress of the world's civilization. since lisbon had closed her ports to the netherlands and spain was imposing a series of unreasonable restrictions upon the navigators of other countries, the dutch had for some time past been determined to discover a passage by which their ships could penetrate the seas of asia. dutch mariners who had been in the employ of the spaniards and portuguese and had shared in their voyages of discovery, had brought home tales of the strange lands and stranger peoples, which stirred the imagination of the ambitious and capable nation. the unknown continents and islands stimulated the scholars' desire for investigation and research. exaggerated reports about the mineral wealth and other treasures of the new world had roused the merchants' spirit of enterprise and acquisition. as visions of the riches that awaited development in those foreign climes, and of territories they might once call their own, rose before the minds of these merchant princes and lords of the sea, the thirst of conquest quickened in this sturdy seafaring people. step by step the dutch followed the discoveries and explorations of the spaniards, and recorded and described them minutely. from the middle of the sixteenth century on the publishing houses of amsterdam, leyden and other centers of the printing trade of the country sent out books dealing with the new continent conquered by their enemy, and especially the west indies. stirred by this reading, the spirit of the people rose and demanded a share in the lands and the wealth which their mariners had helped to discover. there was an abundance of unemployed labor and capital in the country. hence the government, knowing only too well that the future of the dutch people lay on the seas, encouraged this spirit and deliberated upon numerous plans of exploration and colonization. the first step towards a realization of these plans was taken when a charter was granted to the dutch east india company, which gave that organization the exclusive right to commerce beyond the cape of good hope on the one side and the straits of magellan on the other side. as it recalled similarly privileged institutions in feudal times, when the rights of the classes engaged in trade and industry had to be protected against violation by noble lords, more properly called robber barons, the ideal this company represented appealed to the people. statesmen of other countries realized its advantages and the dutch east india company became the model for the great trade corporations which eventually sprang up in france and england. but the east alone could not engage all the forces of the active little country. the tales of the sailors and the books about the western hemisphere made the people look more and more longingly towards the continent and the islands across the atlantic. there unlimited opportunities beckoned; there was an outlet for their energies. but unfortunately the spaniards had long before this established their claims in that continent and the men at the helm of the dutch government were determined to keep peace with spain. although holland's great pioneer of the "freedom of the seas," hugo grotius, refers in his writings to the great plans upon which the dutch were deliberating at the time when captain john smith sailed for virginia, no step was taken in that direction until two years after the founding of jamestown. the voyage of henry hudson up the river that bears his name, and the eventual establishment of the colony called nieuw amsterdam, did not conflict with any spanish interests and opened the eyes of the enterprising people to other possibilities in the vast new continent. before long the ships of the little confederacy were found in many harbors all along the atlantic coast. they discovered some little islands in the west indies, which the spaniards had not found worth while to colonize, because their rocky structure was prohibitive to cultivation. so they did not hesitate to anchor their ships in the inlets of these islands and finally made them a center of contraband traffic with the continent. the states-general of holland still hesitated to grant a charter to the long-projected west india company. but they found means to open to private enterprise almost unrestricted facilities for operation. on the twenty-seventh of march, , they enacted a measure giving private individuals an exclusive privilege for four successive voyages to any passage, harbor or country they should hereafter find. this gave a powerful impetus to the enterprise of dutch mariners and merchants, and also to adventurers of divers nationality. finally on the third of june, , the dutch west india company received a charter for twenty-four years with privilege of renewal, which gave it the right to traffic and plant colonies on the coast of america from the straits of magellan to the extreme north. the ships of the company immediately adopted the policy of reprisals on spanish commerce. in the expedition of pit hein in , which has been narrated in the previous chapter, the privateers of the company secured booty eighty times more in value than all their own exports for the preceding four years had amounted to. dutch buccaneers became as much of a menace to cuban ports and to the ships plying between cuba and other countries as the french and british had been. the sixty years of philip iv.'s reign proved a long series of failures for spain. they would have resulted in serious disadvantage to the american possessions, and especially to cuba, had not the immediate successors of cabrera in the governorship of cuba been able men who managed the affairs of the island with sagacity and foresight. d. juan bitrian de viamonte, caballero de calatrave, a native of navarre, was appointed head of the administration and entered upon his duties on the seventh of october, . as auditor of the interior was appointed the licentiate pedro so who a few months later was succeeded by d. francisco rege corbalan. one of the most famous religious institutions in the west indies was founded about this time. a pious woman, known as sister magdalen de jesus, opened a retreat for women devoting themselves to a religious life; it was at first called beaterio, but subsequently became known far and wide as the convent of the nuns of santa clara. governor bitrian de viamonte was neither strong of physique nor of personality; yet he discharged the functions of his office most successfully. during his administration was projected the construction of two towers, one in chorrera, the other in cojimar. the garrison of the place was increased and castellane was made a respectable stronghold. he also organized the militia, creating six companies in havana, two in santiago and two in bayamo. he had, however, serious disagreements with the marquis de cadreyta, and being something of an invalid and considered unfit to defend the island against the attacks of some powerful enemy, he was removed to the comparatively easier post of captain-general of santo domingo. his successor was the field-marshal d. francisco riano y gamboa, a native of burgos. he suffered shipwreck on the coast of mariel while on his voyage from spain and lost everything but his patents, but was duly inaugurated on the twenty-third of october, . the precautions taken by his successor to insure an effective defense of the island were by no means superfluous. for as the power of spain was steadily declining, that of the netherlands and of england was rising. the establishment of the dutch along the hudson, their founding of nieuw amsterdam and their settlements on some of the minor west indies, had brought the danger of dutch invasion nearer than ever before. the colonies founded by the british at jamestown and plymouth had brought within reach the eventuality of having to guard the spanish possessions against the british as well. dutch and british navigation on the atlantic was vastly increasing and the future foreshadowed conflicts of the interests of spain and holland on the one, and spain and england on the other side. the cuban authorities, wrought up and kept in a perpetual state of tension by their experiences with the buccaneers, had become morbidly susceptible to danger of any kind. the appearance of a foreign ship in the neighborhood of cuban waters sufficed to fill them with the gravest apprehension, lest the stranger might harbor hostile designs. these apprehensions were justified, for the dutch soon resumed their operations against cuba. it was reported that maurice of nassau himself had set out with a powerful squadron, though no historian has any record of it. but in july, , cornelius fels, who was by the spaniards called pie de palo, appeared in the bahama channel, and from that point sailed for havana at the head of a fleet of some twenty dutch vessels enforced by some filibusters. pie de palo took his post at a convenient place to intercept any message sent by governor riano to mexico or peru. near the coast of cabanas the fleet of the spaniards, commanded by d. carlos ibarra and composed of seven badly armed galleons and hookers, came across the dutch. ibarra formed a battle line extending his vessels so as to flank the enemy. pie de palo with six of his galleons bravely attacked the spanish ships _capitana_ and _almirante_, being under the impression that they carried a great quantity of coined money and bars of gold and silver. relying on the experience and the valor of ibarra and pedro de ursua, who commanded the two vessels so proudly attacked by pie de palo, the captains sancho urdambra, jacinto molendez, the marquis de cordenosa, pablo contreras and juan de campos endeavored in the mean time to check the other galleons of the enemy. the unequal combat between ibarra and ursua and the dutch vessels lasted eight hours and the brave spanish sailors issued from it as victors. pie de palo was seriously wounded, more than four hundred dutchmen were killed and three of their vessels were destroyed. the enemy fled, pursued by ibarra, who returned to vera cruz after saving the honor of the spanish flag and the riches the fleet had carried. they sang a te deum in mexico as thanksgiving for the victory and king philip iv. rewarded ibarra and his men by rich gifts. the success of this expedition awakened in havana the old spirit of adventure and military prowess. cuba had so far been the victim of piracy and privateering; now it decided to defend her rights by fitting out her own privateers and sending them against the enemy. the first encounter was with corsairs that had been lying in wait for a vessel coming from vera cruz; the cuban who distinguished himself in the command of the expedition which frustrated the enemy's designs, was andres manso de contreras. the demand for ships suitable for undertakings of this kind was so great that the ship-builders carera and perez of oporto were kept busy building vessels for that purpose. the administration of d. francisco riano y gamboa was short, but some important measures were enacted in that period. the exchequer tribunal de corientes was established with a single auditor for the royal chests of cuba, puerto rico, florida and other spanish possessions. when it was subsequently found that the duties were too numerous for one man, a second official was appointed. it was then arranged that while one of the auditors was to remain in cuba, the other was alternately to visit the other cajas (chests). in this way the government tried to avoid delays and complications which had caused considerable trouble. at this period, too, a commission of the inquisition of carthagena, elsewhere generally abolished, established its residence in havana. ecclesiastical life assumed greater proportions and a wider sphere of influence. bishops who had previously looked upon havana as an undesirable place of residence, no longer hesitated to accept a call to that city. work on the fortifications of the island was actively pursued during the administration of gamboa. it was ordered that el morro should have a garrison of two hundred, and that as soon as feasible, la punta and la fuerza were to be garrisoned by one hundred men each. the construction of the fort at the entrance to the port of santiago de cuba was an important improvement. it was called san pedro de la rocca, in honor of the governor of that city, d. pedro de la rocca, although it is generally known as the morro. a garrison was installed, consisting of one hundred and fifty men sent from the peninsula, and the ammunition destined for the defense came from new spain. the power of the armadilla, which had theretofore been arbitrary, was also regulated at this time. governor gamboa, however, retired from office on the fifteenth of september, , when he had barely inaugurated these improvements, and sailed for spain. gamboa's successor was d. alvaro de luna y sarmiento, a knight of the order of alcantara. during his administration, which began on the fifteenth of september, , and ended on the twenty-ninth of september, , the work of constructing defenses was eagerly pushed. two leagues leeward of chorrera a fort was erected. at the mouths of the rivers casiguagas and cojimar were built the two towers that had been planned by governor viamonte; they were intended to protect those advanced points of the capital. the able engineer bautista antonelli superintended the construction of these works of fortification. as the cost of these structures was defrayed by the inhabitants of the city, the governor saw fit to entrust their defense to three companies of men recruited from the native population. it was the first regiment of the kind organized on the island. by january of the next year the fortifications of the castillo del morro were also completed. with the insurrection of portugal which occurred at this period the pirates became bolder and renewed their outrages. the dutch, too, threatened havana once more. a squadron commanded by admiral fels had approached close to the coast, but had been driven back by a violent hurricane. four of the vessels had been left between havana and mariel. governor luna sent major lucas de caravajal against them; three hundred dutch were taken prisoners, and seventeen bronze cannon, forty-eight iron cannons, two pedreros (swivel guns) and a great stock of arms and ammunition were captured. the captured pieces served to reenforce the artillery of the forts of la punta and morro. d. diego de villalba y toledo, knight of the order of alcantara, became the successor of governor luna on the twenty-eighth of september, . his assistant deputy was the licentiate francisco de molina. a great calamity befell the island in the second year of his administration. a terrible epidemic broke out in the spring of ; the documents and chronicles of the period give hardly any details about the origin and the character of the disease, but it was most likely a putrid fever imported from the indian population of mexico and cartagena by barges that had come from those places. the people who were attacked by it succumbed within three days, and it was estimated that in the course of five months one third of the population died. among those who died as victims of the scourge were the deputy auditor molino and the three licentiates who succeeded him, pedroso, torar and olivares, an alcalde and many other functionaries, one third of the garrison and a great number of the passengers and crew of the fleet which its general, d. juan pujedas, had held ready to station in havana. governor villalba himself was seriously ill and only saved by utmost care. the ravages of the epidemic seriously disturbed not only the ordinary activities of the population, but also the regular routine of the administration. during this period of suffering and sorrow the conduct of the religious orders of both sexes was so admirable as to deserve special mention and warm recognition. the monks and nuns received the sick in their monasteries and convents, tenderly cared for them and when they did not succeed to nurse them back to health, escorted the victims to their graves. among those who individually distinguished themselves by this true christian spirit was padre antonio de jesus. after the epidemic had spent itself and governor villalba had recovered, he organized a company of militia lancers under the command of martin calvido la puerta, one of the wealthiest men of havana. like many other governors of cuba, villalba became at the end the victim of calumny and cabal. the government of spain relieved him from his office and the oidor of santo domingo, d. francisco pantoja de ayala, was charged with an investigation of the complaints and accusations brought against him. the victories of the dutch fleets in india, brazil and peru and their conquest of some of the west indian islands, as also england's expansion of her dominions and the growth of her naval power were cause for grave anxiety. measures of defense and protection became the subject of interminable discussions in the official circles of madrid and havana. the governors sent over by the court were urged to multiply their effort to fortify cuba and insure safety from attacks by covetous enemies. d. francisco gelder, field-marshal and knight of calatravas, succeeded villalba and was inaugurated on the twenty-eighth of march, . one of his first official acts was to sever communication with santiago and bayamo, for these two towns were at that time ravaged by the same epidemic from which havana had suffered. his preventative measure set an example which was soon after followed by the authorities of trinidad, sancti spiritus, puerto principe, baracoa and remedios, and the spreading of the epidemic being checked, the island soon returned to normal conditions. like other governors before him, gelder showed a deplorable leniency towards those elements of the population that carried on contraband traffic with negroes. but he displayed great energy in the persecution of pirates. during his administration captain rojas de figuerosa captured the island of tortuga, which had been a formidable base of corsair operations. the news of this exploit caused great rejoicing in havana and was celebrated by a te deum under the direction of bishop torre. gelder also devised a plan to protect havana from invasion by land. he proposed to open a canal from the extreme interior bay running north and extending to the sea, which would have surrounded the town by water and make it practically safe. but the suggestion did not seem to meet with approval. before any other plans could be drafted, he died of apoplexy, on the twenty-third of june, , and in the interval between his death and the arrival of his successor from spain, the government was administered by the regidor d. ambrosio de soto and d. pedro garcia montanes, commandant of morro. the newly appointed governor, field-marshal d. juan montano velasquez, was inaugurated in june, , but dying within a year, did not vitally influence the course of affairs in the island. his plan of fortifying havana consisted in enclosing the city with walls from the landside, running a rampart with ten bastions and two half-bastions. for the execution of this plan the neighborhood of havana offered to contribute nine thousand peons (day-laborers) and the town corporation imposed a tax on every pint of wine sold to assist in defraying the expenses of the construction. the king approved heartily of these offers and ordered that the treasury of mexico should aid by an additional contribution of twenty-thousand pesos. but the historian arrato reports that the whole scheme was soon after abandoned on account of the war in which spain was about to be involved. the british, their appetite for colonial possessions once being awakened, saw in the growing weakness of spain an opportunity to get hold of some of her dominions. it was well known that cromwell, although england was then at peace with spain, tried hard to increase and strengthen its political and commercial power in america. the british had already conquered the islands barbadoes and san cristobal, and in the year a squadron of fifty-six vessels and a great number of transports sailed from england, determined to wrest from spain more of her west indian possessions. a force of nine thousand men was on these vessels, many of them filibusters who had joined the british. the british command had primarily in view the conquest of santo domingo; but, being repelled, it concentrated its efforts upon jamaica. the governor and his people stubbornly resisted the inroads of the enemy. in the desperate struggle with a superior and well-trained force two brave land-holders distinguished themselves by their heroism: d. francisco proenza and d. cristobal de isasi. but their small and poorly equipped forces were outnumbered by the numerous and well prepared enemy; they were finally obliged to retire within the fortified camp and to surrender the place to the british invaders. panic-stricken and unwilling to live under the rule of the enemy, thousands of jamaicans left for cuba. the population of this island having been recently decimated by the great epidemic, the refugees were warmly welcomed. they numbered about ten thousand and the population of cuba increased, until it was estimated at forty thousand. this, however, did not compensate cuba for the loss of jamaica, which in time became as valuable to the british as it became ruinous to spanish commerce. the comparatively easy victory of the british was a heavy blow to spanish pride and ranks high among the great disasters that marked the reign of philip iv. realizing that cuba might at any time suffer the same fate as jamaica, one hundred thousand soldiers were sent over from the peninsula and some ammunition from spain. the establishment of the british in colonies so near to cuba was a constant menace to its security, and during his brief administration governor montano devoted himself with commendable perseverance to the improvement of the defenses of havana, beginning with the most important and urgent work upon its walls. but before the realization of his plans montano was taken ill and died during easter week of the year . the conquest of jamaica by the british had furnished the world such incontestable proof of spain's military decline, that the lawless elements roving the sea under the black flag of the pirates once more set out upon their criminal expeditions. they extended their depredations to the whole coast of spanish america and menaced the life and property of the inhabitants wherever the lack of forts or adequate garrisons facilitated their manoeuvres. as the pirates were supposed to be either british or french, the government of spain was suddenly roused to action and entered complaints at the courts of france and england. but they received little satisfaction beyond an exchange of polite diplomatic notes, which contained nothing reassuring whatsoever. both governments replied that the miscreants were private individuals and criminals for whose actions their government, however seriously it discountenanced them, was by no means responsible. moreover, interference was out of the question, since the offenses were committed outside of the jurisdiction of the respective countries. spain was thus left to her own resources in proceeding against those disturbers of the peace and safety of her american colonies. but these colonies were thousands of miles away and spain, under the weak rule of a weak sovereign, was too much absorbed by the futile effort to stay the decline of her european power. roussillon and artois had been ceded to france, the war with portugal was dragging along hopelessly. although the revenues of the crown had been materially increased under the king's favorite, olivares, the profligate extravagance of the court was forever draining the coffers. the colonies had to get along as best they could and they had a troublesome time to fight the ever growing menace of pirate invasion with little or no aid from the mother country. the death of governor montano made necessary another provisional government; it consisted of d. diego ranzel, as political and the alcalde jose aguirera as military governor. when the duly appointed new governor, captain general d. juan de salamanca, entered upon his office on the fifth of march, , he soon found his hands full. some years before, a number of frenchmen, regardless of the spanish claim of priority, had settled on the island of tortuga. they were hunters, planters and laborers, with a fair sprinkling of adventurers. the settlement had grown into a real colony, before the spaniards became aware of the fact that it constituted a grave danger. several expeditions were sent against them, but failed to dislodge them. encouraged by this triumph over the spaniards, these intruders set about to extend their operations to the coast contiguous to hayti. sometimes these men were working by authority of the french company of the west indies, and of the governor appointed to rule over them; at other times they undertook excursions quite independently. they fairly succeeded in making themselves masters of cape france. before long they seem to have reached some agreement with the british authorities of jamaica, to combine for concerted action against spain, and they began to terrorize the population of the spanish possessions by sending out piratical expeditions that kept the people on the coasts in constant fear for their life and property. the work entitled "pirates of america" contains a wealth of facts concerning the corsairs sent out by these french and british settlements and the many other buccaneers and filibusters that harassed the people of the spanish colonies. among them is the story of the famous pirate lolonois, also known as francisco nau and el olones, whose descent upon cuba during the administration of governor salamanca has all the elements of a thrilling though gruesome melodrama. lolonois had been in campeche and was supposed to have perished in one of his forays. but in reality he had made his escape and reached tortuga, where he was able to arm himself anew. he reached the northern part of cuba at a small trading town, los cayo, which he intended to rob of its stores of tobacco, sugar and skins. some fisherman recognized him and hurried to havana with the news that lolonois had arrived with two boats and was planning a raid. the governor doubted, having been assured of his death at campeche, but urged by the entreaties of the men, he sent against him a vessel with ten pieces of artillery and ninety armed men. their order was not to return until the pirate horde was annihilated; every one of them was to be hung, except lolonois who was to be brought to havana alive. the pirates somehow were fully informed of the expedition against them and awaited the arrival of the vessel in the riviera estera where it was to anchor. they terrorized some poor fisherfolk into showing them the entrance to the port, hoping there to find better boats than their own canoes. they reached the war-ship at two o'clock in the morning and were asked by the sentinel whence they came and whether they had seen any pirates. they made a prisoner answer for them, that they had not seen any, and the sentinel saw no cause for alarm. at day-break the cubans found out their mistake; for the pirates began to attack them from all sides with such violence that their artillery was soon of no avail. sword in hand the outlaws forced the spaniards to hide in the lower parts of the ship. then lolonois ordered them to be brought on deck, one by one, and had their heads cut off. thus the whole force perished with the exception of one, who was sent as courier to the governor with the insolent message: "i shall never give quarter to a spaniard, i cherish the firm hope to execute on your own person what i did with those you sent with your vessel and what you intended to do with me and my companions." lolonois finally met with a tragical death in nicaragua. but although the lack of preparedness on the part of the cubans and the inefficiency of the commander and his crew make this story almost incredible, the exploit of the british pirate juan or henry morgan in puerto del principe, is equally remarkable and vouched for not only in the book mentioned above, but also by the historian urrutia. morgan planned an attack upon havana with twelve vessels, but yielding to the persuasion of his officers who feared its forts, he contented himself with descending upon the neighboring coast town. as the fleet approached, a spanish prisoner dashed into the water, swam ashore and warned the people of the danger. they put into safety their most precious household goods and when they gathered about the alcalde numbered about eight hundred men. a detachment of cavalry was displayed in hope of intimidating the approaching pirates and attacking them from the rear. but the enemy advanced in good order, and when the alcalde and many of the leaders were killed, the people fled to the mountains. morgan's forces entered the city, where they met with some resistance, but when the pirates threatened to set fire to the town, the people gave up to them. as soon as they saw themselves masters of the place, the pirates locked the inhabitants into the churches, plundered as much as they could find and so ill-treated their victims that many died. then they demanded ransom, threatening to take them to jamaica, if it were not paid in two weeks. before the term expired some of the pirates captured a negro coming towards the town with a message from the governor of cuba, promising the people quick help. morgan then demanded five hundred bulls or cows with sufficient salt to salt them to be driven to the coast, took with him six hostages and fifty thousand pesos cash and jewels, and left his companions attending to the shipping of the cattle. to fortify her coasts and strengthen the garrison of her forts became an urgent need for cuba and brooked no delay. for while the government of spain deliberated at leisure upon means to furnish the much-needed aid, the enemy was alive to the opportunity which inadequate defense offered. the invasion of santiago de cuba, which is the most important event of salamanca's governorship, was a flagrant example of what could at any time happen at any point along the spanish american coast. one october day in the year , a british squadron, according to some authorities consisting of fifteen, according to others of eighteen ships of various sizes appeared at the entrance to the port, with unmistakably hostile intention. the commandant of the morro immediately informed the governor, d. pedro morales, of this unwelcome arrival, but the governor did nothing except summon the troops to their respective quarters. morro was garrisoned by only eighty men, under an inexperienced captain; some historians give the number as only twenty-five. it seems to have been an unpardonable carelessness on the part of the governor not to have at once dispatched an enforcement to the garrison. the inhabitants volunteered to make a sortie to attack the enemy. but the governor did not seem to realize the seriousness of the situation and forbade them to take any action against them. [illustration: morro castle, santiago the oldest of the fortifications of the former capital of cuba, erected in the sixteenth century to protect the place from french and english raiders. it occupies a commanding position on a headland overlooking the splendid harbor and the waters which were the scene of the destruction of the last spanish fleet in cuban waters.] the enemy's forces landed at a point called aguadores, three quarters of a league from the city. they numbered eight hundred men and encountered no opposition whatever. but as it was then night, they decided to encamp on the little plain of lagunas and wait until daybreak. the officials of the garrison, relying on their familiarity with the ground, urged the governor to let them make a sortie with three hundred picked men and take them by surprise. but governor morales still doubted that they would have the courage to attack the city and refused the proposal of the brave troops as he had the offer of the people. when the morning came, his amazing credulity must have received a stunning blow. for the enemy, fully armed, began to move towards the city. disconcerted and confused, morales hastily ordered the troops out and placed himself at their head. without any order or strategic plan they moved towards the heights of santa anna, where as sole defense he had planted a cannon and had some trenches dug. it was an easy task to get the better of a commander of such little foresight. realizing the confusion of the cuban forces the enemy separated into two columns and proceeded to surround morales and his men. in the panic which broke out, the voice of morales was heard to order a retreat. he himself escaped into the city. the british dispatched two hundred men to take morro, which they found abandoned, the garrison having fled instead of making an attempt to save the fort and their honor. when the british commander entered morro he was reported to have made the remark, that he alone with his dog and his sword could have defended the place. morro and santiago were captured and the enemy unhindered indulged in plunder. the bells of the churches were taken, the artillery of the fort, three vessels lying in the harbor, and a number of negro slaves. unable to get the furniture and jewels which had been hidden by the residents, the enemy vented their wrath on the morro, which they blew up; they destroyed the cathedral and killed a few people. for almost a month they lingered about the place and still the governor did nothing to force them to leave. when the governor of cuba heard of the plight of santiago, he immediately summoned an expeditionary corps of five hundred men and hurried to the relief of the sorely tried town; but when he arrived on the fifteenth of november, he learned that the british had on that very day evacuated the town. the historian urrutia reports that the audiencia of santo domingo entrusted the licentiate d. nicolas munez with the investigation of this disgraceful defeat and brought about the removal of morales. by order of the king he was replaced by the field marshal d. pedro de bayoa, who was also given two hundred soldiers and war provisions for future eventualities of this kind. the island had at that time a population of over three hundred thousand inhabitants. the number of negroes had increased and furnished the labor so much needed to work on the plantations. the cultivation of the land was carried on with greater efficiency and began to yield rich results. governor salamanca, in spite of his glorious military antecedents, devoted himself preferably to works of peace. he succeeded in promoting tobacco culture and was the author of the decree issued on the fifteenth of october, , which authorized the extension of the fields into the uncultivated plains that were not used for any other purposes. he was profoundly concerned about the morals of cuban society and attempted to combat the laxity and dissipation that characterized its life. but it seems that his moralizing had no great effect upon the people that were bent upon taking life easy and plunged into pleasure with greater zest than they pursued their work. but while the population of the island enjoyed comparative security and prosperity, that of the coast towns was steadily worried by danger of invasion. when governor salamanca retired from office, the menace was still far from removed. after a provisional government of ten months, don rodrigo de flores y aldama, field marshal and caballero de alcantara, entered upon his administration on the fifteenth of june, . with him arrived also a new bishop, don juan saenz de manosca, a mexican of immaculate purity and uncompromising severity. he took charge of the diocese on the sixth of august and continued with greater success than governor salamanca in the moralization of the community. realizing the increasing danger of invasion governor aldama at once set about to push the work on the walls of havana. the garrison was increased by two hundred men. but aldama was only a year later appointed captain-general of yucatan, and a new governor succeeded him, the field marshal don francisco davila crejon y gaston, who had previously been governor of gibraltar and venezuela. he entered upon his office on the thirtieth of july, , and immediately set to work with great energy and perseverance to hasten the construction of more fortifications. his predecessors had stored up an immense amount of building material and there was no reason why the work should not be carried on without delay. but davila encountered serious difficulties and obstacles because his plans were opposed by the engineer marcos lucio and the viceroy la espanola marques de muncere. the resources of the exchequer were at that time so scanty that orejon ordered the provisory use of fagots in the construction of the fortifications of havana. however, el morro of santiago de cuba which had been blown up by filibusters a few years before, was rebuilt under his orders. the batteries of la punta, la estrella and santa clara were established. the governor of santiago and d. pedro bayone finished these works and also walled up the convent of san francisco making it equivalent to a fort. in the year the french pirate pedro legrand penetrated into santo espiritu with a force of filibusters. he set fire to thirty-three houses and demanded a ransom from every inhabitant. during that and the following year, the pirates plundered more than two hundred haciendas (farms) carrying off cattle and furniture. they committed unspeakable outrages, violating even the wives and daughters of the men whose homes they destroyed or robbed. one of the most curious historical documents of this period is "de americansche zee rovers," a narrative of piratical exploits on the coasts of cuba and other spanish possessions by a member of the redoubtable fraternity, alexander exquemeling, a dutch pirate, whose talent for piracy was coupled with the gift of literary style and a pious disposition. the book was translated into many languages and was very popular at the time; it gives a vivid account of the life and habits of the buccaneers and of conditions in the colonies they visited. exquemeling had come to tortuga in one of the vessels of the dutch west india company and, as was frequently done then, was sold into servitude for three years. being ill-treated by his masters, he made his escape and joined the brothers of the coast. he was with morgan at the capture of puerto del principe in cuba, at an attack upon porto bello on the isthmus of darien and at the dastardly sack of panama, and indulges in no little moralizing about the monster morgan and his associates. in the year steps were finally taken by the british and the spanish government to crush this outlaw power of the seas. as if in defiance of this act the expedition against panama was made which exquemeling describes with evident horror. he also reports that the new governor of jamaica, who had been particularly instructed to enforce the treaty against piracy, which in the diplomatic documents goes under the name "american treaty," ordered three hundred french corsairs who had been shipwrecked on the coast of porto rico to be slaughtered. but he does not forget to add that the same governor only a few years later secretly abetted the operations of the pirates and even shared in their booty. one ship alone carried such rich freight, that every member of the pirate crew received four hundred pounds and the governor himself a handsome sum of hush-money. but the grim tragicomedy of morgan's career reached its climax when the scoundrel, who had brought untold misery to homes in cuba and other spanish colonies, suddenly turned about, became respectable, married the daughter of one of the most prominent citizens of jamaica, and was appointed judge of the admiralty court. nor was this all: charles ii knighted him and in the whilom buccaneer, as sir henry morgan, became deputy governor of jamaica. he held the office three years, during which he mercilessly sacrificed some of his former comrades. then king james ii came upon the throne, and spain having gathered sufficient evidence to accuse "sir henry" of secret complicity with the pirates, he was discharged, sent to england and spent some years in prison. the "american treaty," however, dealt a blow to piracy in the western hemisphere; and in due time relieved the inhabitants of cuba as of other spanish possessions in america for the nightmare that had threatened them for over a century. chapter xxv in spite of the "american treaty" which had for the moment bound great britain and spain together for mutual protection against the pirates, the designs of land-hungry british courtiers and adventurers were by no means abandoned. spain was not blind to the fact that she had all powers against her, that were playing an important part in the development of the new world. french, dutch and british were stung with the desire to appropriate to themselves some of its wealth. for many years the british government had jealously watched the progress of dutch navigation and commerce. its settlements in north america had whetted the appetite for colonial expansion, which, once awakened, was bound to be satisfied by whatever means diplomacy or strategy offered. though england and spain were then nominally at peace, cromwell was haunted by dreams of british world power and as soon as the revolution gave him authority to act as lord protector of the commonwealth, pursued his visions of conquest. the act of navigation which was issued in the year does not with a word mention british monopoly of the colonies; it only established the principle of exclusive maritime commerce by british vessels, equipped for the most part with british citizens, and prohibited foreigners from importing into the commonwealth other products than those of her own soil or those the sale of which was established in the importing country. cromwell's idea was without doubt to attack dutch commerce and build upon its ruins a national british commerce. holland opposed in vain the act intended to break the friendly relations between the two nations. parliament was concerned only about british interests and refused to revoke her laws to please her neighbor and ally. the war between england and holland became inevitable. cromwell's squadron triumphed and dutch commerce had to give way to british. this lesson was not lost upon france which was also haunted by visions of colonial empire and was therefore interested in defending the principle of monopoly. as early as the reign of queen isabella, french ambition and desire for colonial possessions had become manifest. as british vessels began to prey upon spanish colonies, france followed their operations with keen interest and at opportune moments managed to acquire a slice of territory in the new world. in the year when the british had taken possession of barbadoes, france took half of san cristobal; when the british settled on the other half of that island, the french took possession of martinique, guadeloupe and other small islands. they founded a colony in cayenne and assisted by corsairs got a hold on the western part of santo domingo. but the greed for territory once awakened, was not easily appeased, and the courtiers of the restoration, in need of new avenues of wealth to carry on their wonted extravagance, were among the most rapacious claimants of land in america. in the spring of , the province of carolina was established, extending from the thirty-sixth degree of north latitude to the river san matheo and some dissatisfied planters from barbadoes founded a settlement in the fall of the same year. having been included by the spaniards within the limits of florida, this arbitrary act was bound not to pass unchallenged by spain. in defiance of the spanish authorities at st. augustine the earl of clarendon obtained from the king in june, , a charter granting him and his partners all territory lying between the twenty-ninth and the thirty-sixth degree of north latitude from the atlantic to the pacific. not satisfied with these acquisitions, the british turned covetous eyes upon cuba. a letter written by a major smith in the year and published in the universal museum of london in the year , gives an account of the island which requires no comment. it reads: "cuba is a very good island and in it is generally, for so large a country, the best land i have seen in america, although i have traveled the main continent in several places and crossed from the north to the south seas as also the north side of hispaniola, and most parts of jamaica. this great island is easily to be conquered, and would make the best plantation, besides the prejudice it would be to the spaniards and the great advantage to our nation. for instance had we the port and city of havana, which might in all probability be reduced with two regiments of good soldiers from jamaica, carrying with them two or three sloops or shallops for sending men, provided with good arms and other necessities for an assault. the descent is to be undertaken presently after their armada hath passed out of the indies which is once in two years, towards the end of the summer. there is a good landing on the west side of the city where it lies open and you need fear no ambuscades, but not on the east side of the harbor, for there you will be galled by the morro until the city be secured; but when once that is taken, you may easily reduce the castle also and there being no danger of retaking it until the next armada arrives, which will be almost two years, in which time you will have planters enough from other of your islands to manure the land and assist the soldiers in the defense of the island. this conquest being once effected, would utterly ruin the spaniards and for these reasons; our ships lying both here and at jamaica, would be at all times ready to gather up their straggling fleet which it is difficult to keep embodied without the help of that port of havana, it being windward from the bay of mexico or puerto bello, without separation and on the other hand, to pass the gulf of florida is impossible should they lose the havana where they rendezvous victual water and provide all things necessary for their return to spain. when this is done, they wait for a convenient season of weather (being much observed from the changes of the moon) in order to pass the dangerous strait; for to say truly, the spaniards are neither very fit for sea nor for land service, excepting some officers and soldiers bred in flanders, for the latter and a few biscaniers for sea affairs. they are so sensible of their weakness, and jealous of their riches in those parts that it is very difficult for any ingenious man, once taken by them, to get his liberty, fearing he might give such intelligence as would be the cause of their ruin, witness their blindfolding of all strangers, when they pass their cities and castles, for they much dread an old prophecy among them, _that within a short time the english will as freely walk the streets of havana as the spaniards now do_, which indeed had been easily performed with a third of the army sent to jamaica and a far greater advantage to the nation; for i esteem that port and harbor of the havana in the west indies to be as great a check upon the spaniards as tangier in the straits of gibraltar; and if we were once masters of both they would without doubt be so straightened as absolutely to admit us a free trade into their ports of america, where they import our commodities and sell them for ten times more than they first cost in spain, by reason of the great plenty of silver, which trade would not only be of great advantage to us, but also prevent their future enslaving our nation in chains, as they now do; for being employed in their fortifications, they are worse used, all things considered, than if they were taken by the turks. i have seen other parts of the west indies, where the spaniards might be fleeced of considerable quantity of riches; as at panama, where there are silver bars piled up in heaps in the open street day and night, without guard, four, five or six months together, waiting the arrival of the armada, which when arriving in puerto bello, they transport it thither with so slender a guard for so great a treasure, that it would be easy prey for a thousand resolute men the expense of whose expedition would be small in comparison to the prize. but there is no resting or long tarrying about the business, the spaniards being numerous here as in all other places of the main land; a catch and away. this island of cuba hath adjacent to it great conveniences of salt and fishing and in it is very great plenty of horses, meat, sheep and hogs, both wild and tame, of a far larger and better breed than in other parts of america. which hath also many rich mines of copper already open and it is the only place which supplies all the west indies with metal for the infinite number of ordnance they have in all their ports and castles, both in the north and south seas; but whether it hath any mines of silver or gold, i know not; but if there were any such they would venture their opening a discovery fearing the invasion of that island which is of so easy access by sea and of such great importance to their whole interest in america; for which reason also they refuse to work any mines in florida that are near the north sea (although they have there very many) but would rather employ themselves about others farther in the country although with great labor and cost for conveyance of the produce by land to mexico; lastly, this island (to complete its praise) hath very good ports and harbors of great advantage to ships for safe passing the gulf; and should the spaniards keep two or three frigates always plying off there between the western end of cuba and the havana, it were impossible for any ships of ours that came from jamaica to escape them. the scales turned would be their case to all america. neither wants it great sugar-works, which have both water-mill and horse mills and very many large cocoa walks; the most and best tobacco; in short, it produces all other commodities that any of our american islands have knowledge of." this letter shows plainly how preoccupied was the british mind with the acquisition of cuba, and foreshadows the coming events, for which cuba in spite of all warning symptoms was little prepared. clouds had gathered about the horizon of spain and darkened its own outlook. king philip iv. had died on the seventeenth of september, , and so inadequate was at that time the means of communication between spain and her american dominions that it took seven months before news of the event reached the people of cuba. the heir to the spanish throne was the three-year-old charles ii. the queen, assisted by the junta, being named regent. if the reign of philip iv. had been called the most disastrous in the history of the kingdom, that of charles ii. was hardly less so. it was the period when louis xiv. of france had begun to cherish a dream of universal empire and although a brother-in-law of the spanish infant-king, did not hesitate to do his share in weakening the power of spain. in spite of the critical position of the mother-country, the proclamation of the new king was celebrated in havana with great pomp on the ninth day of may in the following year. at the review held in san francisco square of that city appeared two companies of mounted militia, four companies of veteran infantry and four others of free pardos (a mixed race of blacks and whites) and morenos, sent by the major jeronimo luque salazar. the perfidy of the french king contributed seriously to the insecurity of cuba at this period. there is little doubt that he aided and abetted the operations of french pirates in the west indies. the island of tortuga was once more in their hands. barbadoes and jamaica were the haunts of great numbers of these outlaws, who kept the spanish ships sailing on these seas as well as campeche, tabasco, honduras, nicaragua, new granada, costa rica, santa catalina, la guayra and others of the rich spanish colonies in the western hemisphere in a continual state of suspense. governor davila succeeded in several punitive expeditions against the pirates. the notorious lolonois or el olones, was executed in nicaragua and in cuba itself more than three hundred were hanged in the different places where they had been caught. during davila's administration some wealthy citizens made bequests for the public good. the most important was that of martin calvo, who left an income of five thousand pesos to be annually distributed as gifts among five poor orphan girls. governor davila orejon y gaston was in the military literature of his time known as the author of a work called "escelencias del arte militare y variones illustres." he demonstrated in that work the importance of the port of havana for the conservation of spanish dominion in mexico and peru. he retired from the governorship on the sixth of may, , and died in venezuela. the immediate successor of davila was field marshal d. francisco rodriguez de ledesma, chevalier of the order of santiago. determined to curb the brazen bullying in which the buccaneers were still indulging, he issued privateering patents to a number of valiant mariners and merchants, who were willing to face the foreign pirates in open fight and prevent further encroachments upon the coasts of spanish america. the two men who especially distinguished themselves in these expeditions were felipe geraldini and major marcos de alcala. ledesma also carried on the work of fortification. during his administration was built a portion of the cathedral under the supervision of d. juan bernardo alonso de los rios; but the imposing edifice was not finished until many years later. governor ledesma was not to be spared an experience with the freebooters. in the year the governor of guarico sent a certain franquinay to santiago with the evident intention of conquering the place. franquinay, who was a french corsair well-known among the brotherhood of the coast landed with eight hundred men at jaragua grande in the eastern part of the island. there he engaged a half-witted native by the name of juan perdomo to act as guide and started with his forces to march toward the city. it was a moonlit night and on arriving at a point where the road branched into two, the pirate divided his forces, each taking one of the roads. on meeting again at the place where the two branches continued as the highroad, the idiot perdomo began to shout "santiago, spain!" the moon had set in the mean time and in the darkness enveloping them, the pirates did not recognize their own forces and thought this call a signal to the enemy lying in wait for them. they began to fire upon their own forces, in the belief that they were betrayed and surprised by the spaniards, and killed a great number of their own people, before they became aware of their mistake. in this way was franquinay's plan to take and ransack the city of cuba frustrated by a mentally deficient native, one who in the language of the latin people is called an "innocent." the corsair turned back to the shore with the intention of re-embarking and left perdomo behind. the half-wit, although manacled, managed to reach santiago and related his experience to the great delight of the governor and the residents. this was the last attempt of pirate forces upon the capital, the inhabitants of which had been kept in a state of constant alarm for a century and a half. but the smaller towns of the vicinity were for some time harassed by franquinay who, unable to accomplish his ambitious purpose, vented his wrath upon their population by committing the most cruel outrages. the expedition of buccaneers under the command of m. de grammont in february, , was another event that justified the fears of the cubans and their steps to insure the safeguard of their ports. m. de grammont landed with a force of six hundred men at guanaja and succeeded in capturing puerto del principe. but the inhabitants valiantly organized and armed themselves to fight the invader. with a scanty reenforcement of soldiers from the garrison they managed to defeat the enemy's horde and pursued them as far as the port of guanaja. there m. de grammont, who was wounded in the course of the combat, retired into a trench which was sufficiently fortified to offer some resistance. on the twenty-fifth of the month an engagement took place, which forced the pirates to take to their ships and hurriedly to leave for the open sea. they had not only accomplished nothing, but suffered the loss of seventy dead and many wounded. notwithstanding the two countries being at peace, the feeling between great britain and spain was gradually becoming more and more hostile. during the pirate raids and other expeditions of british vessels off the spanish-american coasts, british soldiers and sailors had been taken prisoners and were held in what was equivalent to bondage. the british government had repeatedly remonstrated against this procedure, but the cuban authorities had not forgotten jamaica and other operations of the british in spanish america and were not inclined to parley. ships had been sent to havana to demand the release of the men, but even then the emissaries of the british government failed to obtain any satisfaction. their demands were flatly refused. finally the earl of clarence, who was then governor of jamaica, dispatched the british ship _hunter_ under command of captain john tosier to havana. a full account of this expedition is given in "a letter from captain john tosier, commander of his majesty's ship the _hunter_ at jamaica. with a narrative of his embassy to the governor of havana to demand his majesty's of great britain's subjects kept prisoners there." the letter is dated port royal, jamaica, march th, , and was published in london in the same year. captain tosier tells of previous efforts made to obtain the deliverance of these british prisoners, saying that even messengers backed by frigates of fifty guns had so far failed in their purpose. he sailed from port royal on the twenty-fifth of january and on the eleventh of february arrived off the coast of havana. there he waited for two days for more settled weather before he approached within two miles of morro castle, "top-sails a-trip, jack, ancient and pendant flying." he sent a boat with mr. richard bere, governor carlisle's "gentleman of the horse" as messenger and interpreter, and bearer of the list of british subjects kept prisoners in havana. the guard of morro castle ordered the boat ashore, put a sergeant and soldiers on board and escorted the messenger to governor ledesma. another guard remained on the boat. governor ledesma read the letter and the sailing orders and replied that the british prisoners were pirates. according to captain tosier's narrative he refused the british emissaries the customary salute and more or less politely ordered them out of the house. they were escorted back to the boat and "were forced to sea at seven o'clock at night." early the next morning the answer was received by captain tosier. within three hours he sent the boat ashore once more, telling the governor of havana "his majesty's ship under my command is well man'd, where he might be safe and welcome if he would vouchsafe to give her his company; and his majesty of england never spared his powder to answer civilities, nor received such indignities as waiters or guards on board of any of his majesty's ships of war, which will be a strange report, when his majesty shall come to hear of it." captain tosier then demanded in the name of the king of england and "in obedience to the catholic king" that forthwith all subjects of his "most excellent majesty" detained as prisoners in havana be set at liberty and delivered to him to be transported to the territories of the king of england. if pirates they were, they should have been sent to old spain to be tried. great was the excitement at the government house in havana, when this message reached there. but the cuban authorities saw no other way out of the difficulty but to give up the captives. captain tosier reports that the governor ordered the prisoners to be called over in a back court near his house and examined some of them, one after another, and before he had done said: "though i have no order to deliver them to you and though i may be blamed, yet take them all with you, and if there be any more, let them come forth immediately and they shall be discharged." captain tosier had cause to be proud of his success, as the spanish authorities had never before been known to deliver any british prisoners. the announcement that they were free was received with wild cheers by the forty-six englishmen who had spent from one to six years in cuban captivity. the following day the _hunter_ sailed and at some distance out of havana, captain tosier came across a long boat, containing one hundred and forty-four men with their commander, captain john graves who had sailed a month before for london and eight days before meeting the _hunter_ had been cast away thirty leagues east of havana and expected to be utterly lost or to be made prisoners by the cubans. though governor ledesma had in this instance yielded to the pressure exercised by the british, he was by no means convinced of the honesty and sincerity of the governor of jamaica. he had reasons to believe that in spite of peace between the two countries the governor of jamaica was secretly in league with the pirates that had molested cuba, and that while pretending to persecute the outlaws, he had really encouraged them in their raids upon the spanish colonies. governor ledesma collected evidence to that effect and presented it at the court of spain. but his appeal arrived at a time when spain's european losses had alarmingly decreased her prestige and when even her national wealth showed a perceptible shrinkage. so the court at madrid did nothing but deliberate at length upon the ever present problem of insuring the safety of the colonies and limited its practical assistance to the sending over of a few ships with instructions to organize an armada which was to patrol the coasts and force the outlaws to respect spanish possessions. the island itself armed a few vessels and the garrisons were slightly increased. the great earthquake of the year added to the sufferings of the people of cuba and caused loss of life and property. three years later a violent hurricane swept over the island and worked great havoc. it not only robbed great numbers of the inhabitants of their homes, and did serious damage to commerce and traffic, but it also destroyed the recently finished cathedral. though such catastrophes were of no rare occurrence in that climate, they invariably left the people's spirits depressed and indirectly affected their initiative and enterprise. thus the copper mines were abandoned about this time, because their production seemed out of proportion to the labor and expense of working them. but the real reason was probably the ignorance and inefficiency of the forces in charge of the work and the lack of energy and courage which frequently manifested itself in the wake of great disasters. a change in the ecclesiastical affairs of cuba caused considerable commotion during the administration of governor ledesma. bishop saenz de manosca was promoted to the bishopric of guatemala. the trinitarian (in mexico a member of a society hired to carry the corpse in the funeral procession) who had temporarily succeeded him was shortly after appointed bishop of ciudad rodrigo. thus the diocese came under the wise spiritual guidance of the canon of avila, d. gabriel diaz vara calderon, who was not only a learned theologian of great reputation, but a priest of uncompromising moral austerity. he devoted himself with great ardor to reforming the church in the west indies. on a single visit to florida he was reported to have made as many as four thousand converts. on his return to cuba he inaugurated a reign of unwonted severity. he had been deeply shocked by the levity and frivolity of his diocesans; he had learned that even ordained priests and personages in high official positions were in the habit of attending public balls and masquerades, the latter especially offering opportunity to indulge in polite intrigues and adventures of a dubious nature. he justly opined that men in clerical garb and those in responsible government offices lowered their dignity and abused the trust reposed in them by participating in such entertainments. he prohibited his diocesans under threat of excommunication to attend such amusements and by this rigorous restriction of the gayeties in which the people had been accustomed to indulge, made not a few enemies. when he died on the sixteenth of march, , public rumor attributed his death to poison administered by some person in revenge for his interference with the social life of his diocese. spain was at this period at the lowest ebb of her power. financially she was on the brink of bankruptcy. her commerce was paralyzed by stupid laws. the scandalous conduct of her officials had sadly lowered her prestige. nature herself seemed to conspire against the once so powerful empire. storms and inundations had swept over the country and ravaged the land, until its very soil had become unproductive. tempests along her shores had destroyed even the ships lying in port. the mentally and physically feeble monarch, charles ii., was a helpless puppet in the hands of his favorites. a believer in witchcraft, astrology and the black arts and devoted to superstitious practices, he left the affairs of state to his prime ministers who conducted them with varying ability. when ledesma's governorship terminated on the thirty-first of august, , there was appointed in his place d. alonso de campos espinosa. but as valdes and other authorities on cuban history have nothing to record about his official career, it must have been only provisional, and was certainly very brief. for in september of that year the field marshal d. jose fernandez de cordova ponce de leon took charge of the office. governor cordova proved to be a very conscientious and energetic functionary and distinguished himself first by the vigor and perseverance with which he pushed work on the fortifications of havana. he also showed his ability in fighting the pirate scourge. the filibusters had begun to organize bases of operation on the islands of signale and lucayas, similar to those of tortuga. he sent against them an expedition headed by the captains acosta and urubarru, who succeeded in destroying the outlaw colonies in the name of the king and took a great number of prisoners. the chief event of governor cordova's administration was an encounter which the coast guard galliot of the port virgen del rosario y santa jose had with a host of french invaders. the governor and organized forces of patriotic citizens so ably seconded the guard in the defense of the place that the enemy was defeated. governor cordova made many enemies by his vigorous persecution of the smugglers who had greatly increased in number and by their clandestine operations were interfering with and discrediting the legitimate trade of the island. they had become such a power that they had the audacity to bring denunciations and accusations against the governor before the court, which, however, set these charges aside and approved all of cordova's measures directed against them. he also had grave difficulties with the commissary of the santo officio, d. jose garaondo. they were not yet settled, when governor cordova suddenly died on the second of june, . there were rumors afloat that he, too, like bishop calderon, had been poisoned by his enemies. during the interim between his death and the arrival from spain of his successor, the affairs of the island were administered by d. antonio manuel de murgina y meña and captain d. andres de munive, who shared between them the political and military authority. the newly appointed governor of cuba was the general of artillery, d. diego de viana y hinojosa. when he arrived in havana in november, , he brought with him the first copies of the "codigo e recopilacion de india," as the statutes or laws of the west indies were called. they were in force by royal decree, although they were in reality only a confirmation of the famous ordinances of . they were distinguished by a spirit of rectitude and impartiality and were particularly commendable for their justice towards the native indians, who were exempted from all servitude and were accorded equal rights with the spaniards. unfortunately these laws suffered from one serious defect: they were framed so as to apply to all dominions of spanish america and did not take into account the indisputable fact that laws applicable to and beneficent in peru, might be prejudicial in mexico and cuba. this did not, however, diminish in the least the ethical significance and humanitarian value of this codex of some four hundred laws, decrees and mandates; they gave proof of the admirable sentiment of the mother country towards her colonies. among the functionaries who arrived from spain at the same time as governor viana, were a new auditor, d. manuel de roa, and a new bishop, d. diego evelino de compostela. this noted ecclesiastic was famous in spain not only for his sterling character as a man, but also for his extraordinary gifts as an orator. on his succession to the episcopate a spirit of altruism seemed to awaken in the population and find fruition in various works of charity. bishop compostela was conspicuous in these organizations and in every possible way encouraged his diocesans in contributing to and actively participating in such works. he founded many parishes and in havana organized the seminary of san ambrosio, the academy for young ladies called san francisco de sala, and the hospital for convalescents of bolen. during the fifteen years of his episcopate bishop compostela accomplished what none of his predecessors had succeeded in doing. he really raised the moral standard of the diocese, and he attained that end more by his own noble example, than by his eloquent sermons on moral issues. he was a gentleman of distinguished manners, who treated all that came in contact with him with the utmost courtesy. he lived very modestly and was known always to travel on foot. he devoted his income to alms freely dispensed to all the needy, and by his numerous works of beneficence built for himself an imperishable monument in the memory of the grateful population. governor viana's administration was filled with what at first appeared a petty local squabble, but later developed into a serious conflict. harassed by pirates, the town of san juan de los remedios del cayo had in the year obtained permission to remove to another place, sufficiently distant from the coast to insure the safety of the inhabitants. the permission arrived at a time when conditions seemed to have improved and the majority of the population was satisfied to remain where they were. the parish priest, however, had favored and decided upon removal to a place called cupey, and governor viana approved of this choice. when the residents began to discuss the problem of the new location, it was found that the greater number was of the opinion that the cattle farms known as santa clara offered a more convenient site, and the governor and bishop were won over to this view and agreed. as head of the town was appointed the alcalde manuel rodriguez de arziniega and as its spiritual adviser was chosen the cura gonzales. it so happened that neither of the two favored the place that had been selected. the alcalde and his adherents wanted to settle at sabana largo, near the hacienda of santa clara. the priest preferred the place called el guanal, in the body of that farm. to adjust the difference the governor and the bishop chose two men, d. christobal de fromesta, cura and vicar of sancti spiritu, and the contador d. diego de penalver, who were both residents of that town. it is characteristic of the manner in which municipal and other public business of importance was then conducted, that the two men deliberated without result until the year , when the administration of governor viana came to an end. of governor viana's share in furthering the building of fortifications an inscription in the ravelin of the gate of tierra bears proof. it reads: reynando la magestad catolica de carlos ii. rey de las espanas y siendo gobernador y capitan general de esta ciudad e isla de cuba d. diego antonio de viana hinojosa, caballero del orden de santiago, veinte y cuatro perpetuo de la ciudad de granada, y general de la artilleria del reinado de sevilla, se acabo esta puerta con su puente levandizo, y su media luna, etc. ano de . (in the reign of his catholic majesty charles ii. king of spain, the resident governor and captain-general of this city and island of cuba was d. diego antonio de viana hinojosa, cavalier of the order of santiago, the twenty-fourth perpetuo of the city of granada, and the general of artillery of the ruler of sevilla, this gate with its drawbridge and its ravelins was finished. in the year .) the affair of el cayo continued to absorb the attention of the government during the administration of d. severino de manzañeda y salines. this new governor entered upon the functions of his office on the thirtieth of october, , and remained until the second of october, . according to the decision which the court rendered after endless discussion the inhabitants of el cayo were to move to santa clara. from the oldest alcaldes and magistrates of both towns two men were chosen with orders to superintend the removal: the cabilde captain luis perez de morales and ensign gaspar rodriguez. they proceeded to el cayo and issued a proclamation which ordered the residents to move within a fortnight. when the term expired, and the order had not been complied with, they went to the church, accompanied by forty men armed with machetes, lances, battle-axes and guns, and began to harangue the people. when this had no immediate visible effect, they started to destroy house upon house, applying either the torch or the sword. they spared only the church and the residence of the prefect of the new town. after committing these unwarranted ruthless outrages they forbade any one under severe penalty to attempt to rebuilt his house; nor was any one allowed to admit a homeless neighbor to his hacienda or offer him a roof. exposed to the inclemency of the weather, left without shelter or provisions, the temper of the inhabitants was roused, but they were too bewildered by the cruel injustice to see their way to demand redress of their wrongs. a man from the pueblo san jacinto de royas, deeply resenting the heinous crime, resolved not to remain passive. he made his way to the bishop and the governor, gave them a vivid account of what had occurred, and lodged a complaint in the name of the poor victims. both bishop compostela and governor manzañedas readily yielded to his arguments, but it does not appear from the records of the time that the men who had so flagrantly abused their power were punished. the governor, probably from fear of stirring up dissatisfaction with his administration and ultimately losing his position, contented himself by adjusting the differences between the two parties. he ordered the people of both towns to live together until the king had handed down his decision. when his majesty finally approved of the action taken, the feelings of both parties were pacified and the new town thus founded became known as villa clara. during the administration of governor manzañedas the city of matanzas was founded. according to some authorities the name is derived from the spanish _matanza_, which means slaughter or killing and it was supposed to refer to the extermination of the indians who had been the native owners of that territory. others derive the term from a corruption of the word _martizaban_, which the indians had adopted from the castilian when they wailed during the suffering inflicted upon them. still others try to establish a certain connection between that name and the following story of indian perfidy. it seems that some spaniards had engaged a number of indians to carry them in their canoes from one end of the bay to another. when they reached the middle of the bay, the indians left the boats, and hitting the spaniards on the head with the oars, tried to drown them, while they took to the mountains. seven of the victims succeeded in escaping from death by swimming to the shore; but there they were caught by other natives, taken to the nearest pueblo and hanged. one of them however, managed to get away and reach another pueblo, whose cacique gave him shelter until the arrival of a spanish rescuing force under narvaez. the cacique, preceded by three hundred men carrying gifts, went to receive the party from havana, leading the prisoner by the hand. in addressing narvaez and p. casas, who were the leaders, he told them that he had treated the man as if he had been his own son, that he had guarded and protected him for three years and had refused the strenuous demand of the other caciques to deliver him to them, knowing that they would have killed him. whatever the origin of its name may be, matanzas eventually lived down its sinister significance. the bay of matanzas with the canal opening into it, had long been considered a point of great importance. for it was patent that, if the british set out to capture it and succeeded in establishing themselves there, the danger to spanish commerce and especially to that of havana would be very grave. a village had existed there from the time of the spanish conquest; it had grown in population and the surrounding land was well cultivated. governor manzañedas decided at once to begin to fortify the bay. he re-organized the administration of the place and raised it to the rank of a city, which the authorities named after san carlos alcazar de matanzas. the solemn ceremonies of its foundation took place on the tenth of october, , in the presence of governor manzañedas and many other prominent citizens and high officials of the island. after an examination of the previously drafted plan a plaza des armas, or military parade-ground was the first to be decided upon; then the principal streets of the city were traced. two days later an altar and a cross were raised on the square destined for the church, and bishop d. diego evelino de compostela blessed the spot, said mass over it and with the aid of governor manzañedas laid the first stone of the temple which was to have for its patron saint san carlos borromeo. on the following day the governor went to punta gorda on the north side of the bay and selected a place for the fort which was to be built. when the structure was completed it was in his honor given the name san severino. the industry of the residents, the fertility of the soil and the unusually favorable location of the port made the small town grow within a few years into one of the most important cities of the island. subsequently matanzas developed to such size and prominence that it is to-day ranking next to havana both in population and in commerce. the administration of manzañedas was toward the end disturbed by the scandalous dispute between the governor villalobas and the licentiate roa, lieutenant auditor of the royal audiencia (a court of appeals in the west indies). the affair created a great deal of sensation at the time, because it threatened to divide the population into hostile factions. villalobas was charged with having allowed his adherents to call themselves villalobistas, in opposition to those of lieutenant roa, who promptly assumed the name roistas. controversies and quarrels arose and grew to such alarming proportions that civil war seemed imminent. the two rivals fought each other mercilessly, until roa fled to madrid, where he died in exile. villalobas justly feared that the report of these disturbances would damage his reputation at the court of madrid and was taken dangerously sick. the audiencia of santo domingo which had instituted an inquiry into the matter discharged villalobas from his office. an oidor (hearer or judge) of the audiencia, d. diego antonio oviedo y banos was appointed to hear the arguments of the case. but villalobas, a broken old man, was so grieved by the disgrace that he survived the ordeal only a few days. the administration of governor manzañedas came to an end in the year when he was appointed to the presidency of santo domingo. chapter xxvi with the death of king charles ii. in the year the austrian dynasty upon the throne of spain became extinct. one daughter of his predecessor, philip iv., had married a bavarian prince, another had become the wife of louis xiv. of france. the offspring of these marriages and other candidates presented themselves for the succession and caused endless diplomatic parleys and plunged spain into a most harassing state of uncertainty, even before the king expired. he had signed a will in favor of the bourbon claimant, philip of anjou, who succeeded him as philip v., but the austrian archduke charles contested this succession, until the death of his brother. joseph called him to the throne of austria and forced him to relinquish his claim to that of spain. the interval, however, was spent in what is known as the war of the austrian succession which was far more than a war of succession to the spanish throne, but one which involved a european problem. the hostility between england and france was known to be acute; the designs of austria upon spain were also known to be the source of incipient conflicts. in order to curb the insatiable ambition of louis xiv., england had entered into an alliance with austria and holland. the unexpected ascension of the archduke charles to the throne of austria suddenly changed the political aspect of the time for england. louis xiv. and philip v. had agreed that in order to secure the balance of european power the crowns of france and spain should never be united. spain, however, was bound in the future to follow the trend of french politics. it renounced her rights to the netherlands, which were the only barrier against invasions of france on the continent, and left england in possession of gibraltar. as this was its most important fortress, gibraltar was ever to be a thorn in the flesh of spain. the treaty of utrecht, which was signed in the year , seemed by its reapportionment of the countries and the readjustment of the map of europe to have temporarily assured peace. but the price paid for this peace by spain was hardly to be estimated in currency. as guiteras justly remarks, philip v. found spain prostrate from the impudent efforts of the austrian dynasty to preserve her predominance among the european nations. the wars waged during the reigns of his predecessors had drained the coffers of spain and alarmingly decreased her population. the powerful kingdom which a century before had dared to threaten the independence of england and had enjoyed prosperity and opulence, had become almost tributary to france and england. the treaty of utrecht reduced spain to her peninsular provinces and her overseas colonies. though united with them by the ties of racial origin, religion and tradition, it was not an easy task to defend them against the inimical designs of powers that planned to dominate the seas and usurp the place which spain had won for herself. philip v. realized that the condition in which spain had been left at the end of the wars that preceded his reign made it incumbent upon him to maintain peace and to further the country's recovery from a century and a half of constant warfare. he was inspired by the example of france under colbert and richelieu and his aim was by applying to spain the lessons france had learned during the leadership of those men, to bring about a revival of spain's previous greatness. he aspired to make spain internally stronger than she had ever been, to enable her to humble england and to wrest from that great rival her ever increasing power in america. his task was extremely difficult, for it really meant a thorough reconstruction of the entire government. he found spain in such a state of stagnation that it required extraordinary efforts to rouse in the country only a spark of the old spirit. he was the first sovereign since philip ii. who had a strong will and a strong personality and made his absolute power felt in every branch of the government. he had to create a new navy; he had to organize and train a new army; he had to reform the legislation, the finances, even the police of the country. so poor was spain at that time in men of strong character and executive power, that he was obliged to employ foreigners in some of the most important places in the army and navy as well as in the council chamber. although during the latter half of his reign of forty six years his initiative and energy were paralyzed and he lapsed into the passive indifference which had characterized the attitude of some of his predecessors, his innovations and reforms were the means of stimulating inquiry into some of the evils, political and social, that spain had suffered from. he ushered in a new life, which slowly penetrated to every corner of the kingdom and brought it into closer contact with the outside world for which it had hitherto had a curious contempt. however slow was the work of regeneration which he had inaugurated, it was sure to benefit the next generation which could never return to the old order of things. the influence of this new life in the mother country was, of course, still slower in manifesting itself in her colonies. cuba had still to rely upon her own resources, both in inaugurating internal improvements and in combatting external dangers. as both great britain and france were eagerly pursuing their plans to extend their colonial power in america, conflicts between these powers and the spanish possessions in america were inevitable. towards the end of the seventeenth century attempts to establish direct maritime intercourse between france and the mississippi, and to colonize the southwest of the continent; which was under the patronage of louis xiv. created no little anxiety in the old spanish settlements of florida and eventually had to lead to armed conflicts in which the west indies, and especially havana, as the metropolis of the spanish island colonies, became involved. as early as the year d. andres de pes had settled in pensacola and three years later three hundred spaniards from vera cruz and other parts had under the leadership of d. andres d'arriola taken formal possession of the harbor. henceforth no foreign ship could enter without being challenged. this the valiant commander of the french expedition, d'iberville, the pioneer founder of louisiana, was to experience. he had sailed in october, , with a company of marines and some two hundred colonists, among them women and children. at santo domingo he took on board a seasoned veteran of the golden age of piracy, a man who in had made a fortune of eight million pesos by the capture of vera cruz, had been an associate of m. de grammont, lolonois, morgan and other notables of the brotherhood of the coast, and as such was familiar with every spot along the gulf of mexico and the coasts of new spain; it was captain laurent grave or graff, linguist, sailor and intrepid fighter. they arrived at the island st. rose in january, , cast anchor and applied for permission to enter the harbor of pensacola. this being refused they sailed westward and settled in the country west of the perdido river, which was later recognized by king philip v., who was bent upon a conciliatory policy, as the boundary between louisiana and florida. from that time, however, pensacola was to know no peace, for the french cast ever a covetous eye upon that spanish settlement. nor did the authorities of pensacola hesitate to harass the settlers to the west, resenting the appearance of any rival neighbor. governor ravolli made an expedition in against the french who had settled on ship island, but he himself was soon to experience that he was being surrounded by neighbors determined to show their hostility towards spain by open or secret operations against the spanish settlement in florida. governor james moore of south carolina, which bordered on spanish florida, undertook in the year an expedition against the old spanish town of st. augustine, in the defense of which a cuban force was eventually to take part. the british succeeded in making their entry into the town and ravaging it; but they could not reduce the fort, which the garrison defended with desperate determination. the british sent to jamaica for some heavy artillery. but in the meantime the spanish viceroy had been informed of the attack and sent two war ships for the relief of the town. the governor of cuba, too, dispatched five vessels with troops of infantry and militia, which sailed from the port of havana under the command of captain d. esteban de beroa, a havanese of great enterprise and valor. when the spanish fleet arrived near the harbor, moore with his south carolinians made a hasty retreat by land, leaving behind his vessels and stores of ammunition. the help which d. esteban had lent the garrison of st. augustine in this critical moment was highly appreciated by the king of spain, who took notice of this valuable service in a cedula addressed to the captain general of the island in , in which he especially lauded the exploits of d. esteban. the administration of d. diego de cordova lazo de vega, knight of the military order of santiago and general of the galleons, was profoundly affected by the political unrest of europe, due to the controversies about the succession and by the conflicts with the french and the british in the newly settled continent, which began to darken the future of the spanish possessions. cordova had entered upon his office on the third of october, , and was reported to have bought the governorship for fourteen thousand dollars. some very important internal improvements were made during his time of office. the territory from the gateway of la punta to la tanaza and the hospital of san francisco de paula was organized into districts. he was like some of his predecessors much concerned with the religious life of the island and encouraged the building of churches and convents. one of the most important convents founded at this time was the third convent of the barefoot carmelites, dedicated to saint teresa. realizing the need of greater garrisons for the protection of the people of cuba from invasions, whether by foreign powers or by corsairs, the spanish government sent over twelve companies of militia. so impressed was the governor with their general condition and their discipline, that he sent the king a special message referring to them. but he was too prudent to rest satisfied with this help from the government overseas; he raised and organized four more companies of infantry and cavalry, recruited from the population of cuba itself, and this placed the island in a better state of defense than it had ever been before. he also granted a number of merchant mariners privateering privileges, which enabled them to cruise about and hunt down foreign pirates and smugglers. these men, among whom the regidor of trinidad, juan vasquez, distinguished himself by his valor, made numerous excursions in the neighborhood, retaliating upon the french colonies for the outrages of french corsairs, by invading them and capturing some of their vessels, not excepting the crew, and by carrying off their cattle. cordova was also instrumental in promoting the tobacco culture of the island, by encouraging the employment of new mechanical contrivances. when on the thirtieth of november, , king charles ii. expired in madrid, and was followed by philip v., the first spanish sovereign of the house of bourbon, the spanish colonies in america paid no heed to the war of the succession which was carried on between king philip and the archduke of austria. without hesitation they recognized the former as their ruler and thanks to the wholesome influence exerted upon the population by governor cordova and the estimable bishop compostela, king philip was formally and peacefully proclaimed in cuba. cordova's governorship was so highly appreciated by the royal government in spain that he received for his services the title of marquis de valdo and was soon after promoted to the presidency of panama. but he later returned to spain and died in madrid as counsellor of state in the year . after the departure of cordova in september, , the government of the island was for a number of years once more of a rather interimistic nature, which greatly hampered the efforts of the government to insure the safety of the coasts against invaders. the british, being since the accession of philip v. to the spanish throne no longer the allies of spain as they had been during the validity of the "american treaty," were now her enemies, and once more began to harass the spanish colonies by encouraging the pirates to interfere with their traffic. the squadron of three vessels which france sent over to patrol the ocean in the vicinity of the antilles, did not seem to intimidate the lawless elements working more or less directly under orders of and agreements with the british. the administration of cordova's successor, d. pedro benitez de lugo, maestro de campo and former counsellor to the elector of bavaria, began on the twentieth of september, , and ended with his death only three months later, on the fourth of december. but in that brief period occurred the invasion of the island of trinidad by the british pirate grant, who had under him a force of three hundred men and succeeded in thoroughly terrorizing the people. after the death of d. benitez, the provisional government was entrusted to two habaneros, d. luis chacon, castellan of the morro, and d. nicolas chirmo vandeval. they seem to have governed with commendable prudence. determined to defend the island against the corsairs which renewed their activity, the cuban authorities retaliated by sending out corsairs of their own. thus d. juan baton de chavez, governor of santiago de cuba, started from that city in with a force of two hundred and fifty men and invaded the islands of new providence and siguatey. he destroyed their fortifications, sacked the houses, took one hundred prisoners and returned with twenty-two cannon and a large quantity of ammunition and arms. the town of santiago having generously contributed to the success of this enterprise both with volunteers and with material resources, the king rewarded the city with the title "muy noble y muy leal" (very noble and very loyal). in the same year there died in havana the venerable and much beloved bishop, d. diego evelino de compostela. in fifteen years of faithful service he had succeeded in stimulating the religious life of the diocese by the building of churches, especially those in the plains, where tobacco was raised and thousands of laborers lived with their families, and in raising the moral standard of cuban society. the spirit of animosity between france and england on the one hand, and spain and england on the other, gave birth to two schemes to attack charleston in the year . the valiant canadian pioneer d'iberville was on the way with a respectable force. he reached santo domingo, where he was reenforced by spanish troops, and set sail for the coast of south carolina. he was stricken with yellow fever and the undertaking had to be abandoned. at the same time the spanish authorities in the west indies, having decided upon an aggressive policy towards the british in america, planned retaliation for some of the wrongs suffered in recent years. the unwarranted attack of governor james morgan of south carolina upon the old spanish town of st. augustine, only four years before, was not forgotten and offered a welcome pretext to launch an offensive movement. accordingly an expedition was fitted out in havana, mostly of french privateers, but also some cuban forces and on the way was joined by more from st. augustine. the squadron arrived at sullivan's island off charleston on saturday afternoon in august of that year. the militia of the city was rapidly mobilized but open combat did not begin until the following wednesday, when the french commander demanded the surrender of the city in the name of louis xiv. the south carolinians replied by a violent attack, which drove a large number of the french that had landed into the water. the fight was renewed when more ships of the expedition came up, and though the attack was repulsed and there was considerable loss of life, the cuban force that had participated, returned with considerable booty. the new governor who entered upon his office may , , was field marshal d. pedro alvarez de villarin, a native of asturia, gentilhombre (a nobleman-attendant of the young princes of spain and counsellor of the elector of bavaria). but his reign was one of the shortest in cuban history. he died on the eighth of july, and the former provisional governors, d. luis chacon and d. nicolas chirmo vandeval, once more administered their duties, political and military. british warships were haunting the coasts of the island and kept the authorities and the residents in a perpetual state of suspense. but the french were now the allies of the spaniards and their able admiral chavagnac came to the rescue of cuba. the unrest due to the disputed spanish succession encouraged the defiant attitude of the british. in the year a british armada appeared on the coast for the purpose of engaging in propaganda against philip v. and winning over the population to the support of the austrian archduke's claims. they flooded the island with grandiloquent proclamations and tried to bribe the people by making the most alluring promises. but d. luis chacon was not the man to betray the king to whom the island had sworn allegiance at his accession in . he so effectively replied with cannons that the conspirators withdrew. the next duly appointed governor of cuba and the thirty-second in order was colonel d. laureano de torres ayala, a native of havana, knight of the order of santiago and former governor of florida. he entered upon his office on the eighteenth of january, . his attention was at once directed to an economic problem of great importance. the landowner orri, an official in the service of spain, had conceived the project to sell the tobacco on the island for the government. this measure was opposed by the speculators in tobacco, who sold it without custom duties to the peninsula and other parts of america. but governor torres was so impressed with the advantage which would accrue from the new arrangement to the government of spain, that he did not rest until the measure was carried and enforced. the exchequer of spain was henceforth enabled to purchase almost the entire tobacco crop and to make enormous profits thereby, which the coffers of the kingdom, depleted by the many wars of the past century, sorely needed. for the successful negotiation of this matter, which created the government's tobacco monopoly, the governor was rewarded with the title marquis de casa-torres. governor torres like his predecessors was much concerned with the safety of the island, and accordingly resumed work on the havana forts. he added to the fortifications by having the bulwark halfway between la punta and la fuerza built; it was considered of great importance at that time, but was later demolished, when governor don dionisos martinez proceeded with the wall of la punta in the same direction. the marquis de casa-torres had grave disputes with the lieutenant-auditor don jose fernandez de cordova, which caused endless discussion, not only among the officials of the island, but also in the population. the court was finally compelled to submit the controversy to the oidor d. pablo cavera, who came over from spain to begin an investigation. governor torres was temporarily suspended. but the oidor cavera died while the inquiry into the differences between the two men was in progress. hence torres and the lieutenant-auditor were obliged to sail for spain and explain their grievances. the administration of governor torres was a period of comparative peace. the enemies of spain that were ever waiting for an opportunity to do something that might weaken her power in america and deprive her of some of her american possessions had not molested cuba and the governor was able to devote his energies to internal improvements and even to aid the new bishop in his many works for the welfare of the diocese. this worthy successor of the unforgettable bishop compostela was d. jeronimo valdes, formerly bishop of porto rico, provincial of the order of st. basil and professor of alcala. he had entered upon his duties on the thirteenth of may, , and at once proved that he, too, was imbued with that noble disinterestedness which characterized his predecessor. he insisted upon strict observance of the doctrines and customs of the church and founded many new parishes. he enlarged the belen convent by adding to the building a wing which was to be used as hospital for convalescents. he also founded the casa de beneficiencia, a foundlings' home, investing in it eleven thousand pesos of his private fortune. another charitable institution which he called into being was a home for the poor that were reduced to beggary. he also succeeded in having a building finished, which was destined to be a hospital for lepers. in all these enterprises for the public welfare he was seconded by the marquis de casa-torres. the island increased in population during this time and among the towns founded was bejucal. the year is also memorable for an important measure which was to safeguard the public health of the island. as early as the year a so-called protomedicato had been created by a certain nuñez, a graduate of the university of seville. it was an institution intended to check the unlawful practice of medicine by ignorant and inexperienced persons or by downright quacks. for some years dr. don francisco teneza, assisted by a duly appointed clerk, who performed the functions of a notary, embodied in his person the authority of a protomedico, examining surgeons, druggists and barbers, who at that time were performing dental and minor surgical operations. but not until the beginning of the eighteenth century was the protomedicato completely organized for efficient work. it was a college or tribunal composed of physicians duly licensed by royal patent, who were charged with examining and issuing licenses to students of medicine. in this way the government hoped to combat the evil of unlawful medical practice by unknown and incapable individuals, which had long been a grave menace to the public health. the king endowed the protomedicato of cuba with the same prerogatives and the same jurisdiction as were enjoyed by the corresponding institutions of lima and mexico. upon the departure of the marquis de casa-torres the affairs of the island were once more in the hands of a provisional government. the ayuntamento (municipal government) entrusted d. luis chacon with the military governorship and in default of an auditor the political was given to two alcaldes, d. augustin de arriola and d. pedro hobruitinier. but by royal order of the year d. luis chacon resumed the superior authority, both civil and military. at the end of the year, when the re-election of the alcaldes took place, violent disputes arose, which necessitated the intervention of chacon and the bishop valdes. the court was called to inquire into the matter and settled the quarrel which had threatened to disturb the peace of the community. in the year the official circles of cuba were greatly agitated by a sensational occurrence. it was the affair between the acting governor of cuba, don luis sanudo, and the royal ensign, who was also alcalde of bayamo. the governor had ordered the ensign to imprison two indian chiefs who were accused of theft, but the ensign, interpreting differently a certain royal decree and the municipal ordinances, made no move to obey the command. governor sanudo accordingly betook himself to bayamo, and as the ensign failed to present himself, went to his house. there he upbraided him, and as was reported by some at the time, slapped his face. boiling with wrath at this insult and outrage, the ensign killed him on the spot. the court before which he was tried condemned him to death and ordered his home to be razed. the office was for the time abolished, but later re-established. the casa-torres affair had been in the meantime thoroughly aired before the court of spain and the king had found the charges against the marquis unfounded. so he restored him to office on the fifth of july, , and in february of the following year he re-entered upon his duties as captain-general of cuba. during the three years of this his second term, governor torres actively promoted the armament of corsairs which were sent out to counteract the manoeuvres of the enemy pirates cruising along the spanish-american coasts. among the men entrusted with this venturesome task one especially distinguished himself by his prowess: don juan del hoye solorzano. he was later appointed governor of santiago de cuba. about the same time spain suffered the loss of a rich fleet, which, sailing from vera cruz under command of general ubilla, with port at habana, was on its way to the mother country. it was wrecked at el palmar de aiz, the place where the new canal of bahama was located. to the energetic efforts of the marquis de casa-torres, who at once ordered divers to go to work, was due the recovery of more than four million pesos and some valuable merchandise. the thirty-third governor duly appointed by decree of the spanish court, dated december , , was the field-marshal don vicente raja. he was inaugurated may , , and although in office little more than a year succeeded in completely reorganizing the tobacco industry of the island. he was accompanied on his arrival from spain by a commission of financial and industrial experts; the director of the bank of spain, d. salvador olivares, the visitador, a judge charged with conducting inquiries, d. diego daza, and the licentiate d. pedro morales, the chief of the revenue department. the historian alcazar gives a clear account of the proceeding of this commission and the disturbances they created. he relates that the success of the first tobacco sales in the peninsula had suggested the establishment of a factory in seville. but orri, the great landowner and planter, knew that the three million pounds of tobacco produced by cuba would not suffice for consumption, and not wanting to have recourse to the inferior leaf produced in brazil and venezuela, decided to monopolize the tobacco industry of spain. to realize this plan he proposed to increase the production of tobacco in cuba by extending its cultivation over the whole island and guaranteeing the laborers full value of their harvest, but insisting that the product be submitted for examination to the committee presided over by olivares. this proposition, however just it seemed, produced serious disturbances. the commission favoring the government monopoly had ordered by decree on april , , that there should be established in havana a general agency for the purchase of tobacco with branch offices in trinidad, santiago and bayamo. this decree in reality was of great advantage to the laborers who were thus certain of selling their crops and with advance payments could extend and improve their sembrados (tobacco fields). on the other hand it was opposed by the speculators, who had up to this time lived on the fat commissions which their operations had brought them. these men spread all sorts of rumors detrimental to the newly appointed commission and its work among the producers of tobacco. deluded by this insidious propaganda, the men rebelled. five hundred vegueros or stewards of the tobacco fields armed themselves and captured jesus del monte. even in the capital there were public demonstrations against the commission and the municipal authorities so weakly supported the governor in his defense of the employees of the estance (monopoly) established by the royal government, that he resigned his office in favor of the royal tenente maraveo (according to the historian valdes he was expelled) and sailed for spain in company of d. olivares. the earnest exhortations of bishop valdes and the archbishop of santo domingo induced the rebels to cease their hostile activities and to withdraw to their homes and temporarily quiet was restored. so much confusion had been created by frequent changes of governorship and the interim rule of provisional authorities, that the royal government at madrid took steps to establish greater stability and insure an uninterrupted function of the administrative machine of cuba. after the affair of casa-torres it became imperative to provide for the cases of absence or suspension from office. a royal decree dated december, , ordered that in future, whenever the office of the governor and captain-general should become vacant, by default, absence or sickness, the political and military power should be held by the tenente-rey (or royal lieutenant), or in his default by the castellan (warden or governor) of el morro. upon the return of vicente de raja to spain, lieutenant-colonel d. gomez de maraveo ponce de leon temporarily exercised the functions of governorship. cuba was at that time in a peculiar state of political and social unrest. there were still some demonstrations of the tobacco-planters going on in different parts of the island. maraveo, instead of being upheld in his authority, soon discovered that he was at the mercy of the magistrates and some of the wealthy citizens who seemed to back the rebellious elements. in the eastern part of the island the miners had joined the tobacco-planters in disturbances, intended to convey to the government their disapproval of its measures. it required all the persuasive power of bishop valdes and other spiritual leaders of the colony to pacify the turbulent agitation fermenting among the people. the court of spain realized the seriousness of the situation and was particularly circumspect in the choice of the new governor. a man was needed, firm of will, yet possessed of a sense of justice and of tact in the handling of the two hostile factions. after long and serious deliberation d. gregorio guazo calderon fernandez de la vega, a native of ossuna, brigadier-general and knight of the order of santiago was selected. d. guazo had in his previous official activities proved his energy and bravery and soon after entering upon his office relieved the spanish authorities of their worries concerning the state of affairs in cuba. he took charge of his duties on the twenty-third of june, , and immediately called a meeting of the ayuntamento, the bishop and leading prelates. the men who by their participation in the recent disturbances compromised their reputation were filled with anxious apprehension. but the king wished to avoid internal unrest and discontent and had recommended a policy of reconciliation. it was an auspicious beginning of d. guazo's administration when he announced at this meeting that the king in his clemency would forget the past occurrences, if the mischief-makers would in future show loyal obedience to his orders. a proclamation which governor guazo issued the next day informed the people of the whole island that royal pardon had been granted to the chiefs of the recent mutiny, and quiet and order were soon restored. the tumultuous manifestations which a few greedy speculators had deliberately stirred up among the people associated with tobacco culture, ceased for the time being. he reorganized the tobacco-factory and reinstalled the former employees. the factory advanced funds to the vegueros, who, having no other creditors, could now fix the price and sell the crop themselves. but in the year the vegueros once more revolted; they resented the dictatorial manner in which the visitador d. manuel leon exercised his functions as inspector and supervisor. the bishop and d. jose bayona chacon who filled the office of provisor (a sort of ecclesiastical judiciary), managed by earnest exhortations and promise of watching over their welfare to pacify the insurgents and prevent blood-shed, a service for which bayona was later rewarded by the rank and title of a count. but the arguments of the two prelates had no effect upon the visitador who continued his unwarranted severity. the result was a revolt in of the vegueros of san miguel, guanabacoa and jesus del monte, who numbered five hundred men with arms and horses. they proceeded to destroy the tobacco fields of the cultivators of santiago and bejucal who had agreed to sell their tobacco at the price proposed by the visitador. governor guazo was obliged to send a company of mounted soldiers under the command of d. ignacio barrutia to parley with the rebels. but at the suggestion of submission they replied with musket-shot and barrutia was forced to fire upon them. several were killed and wounded, and twelve were taken prisoners. these unfortunates were hanged at jesus del monte on that same day. as soon as this matter was disposed of, governor guazo directed his attention to the military affairs of the island. florida had at this time been annexed to the government of cuba and guazo reorganized the army of both colonies, and called into being a number of new militia companies in different parts of the island. he replaced the old pike or lance and the antiquated musket or blunderbus by the bayonet and rifle. the garrison of the capital was raised to eight hundred and sixty-five men, all properly armed and equipped. at the same time the salaries in the army were increased. the soldiers received eleven pesos a month, the salaries of the teniente de rey--the king's lieutenant--and of the governors of el morro and la punta were raised and the captain-general was paid ten thousand pesos a year. an important measure for the promotion of west indian commerce was inaugurated by patino, the minister of the treasury, who, in order to increase the imports of goods from spain, conceded to the merchants the same rights as those given to the merchants of seville and cadiz. guazo had warned british privateers to desist from raids upon the spanish possessions and in the year had to address the same warning to the french. for the rupture of diplomatic relations between france and spain had once more increased the insecurity of the spanish-american coasts. the privateers fitted out by the cuban government and authorized to retaliate upon the french and british vessels they would meet, were under the command of men of tried valor, like gonzalez, mendreta, cornego and others. they succeeded in capturing a number of bilanders (small one-mast vessels), which carried cargoes of over one hundred thousand pesos in value. on one of these expeditions the soldiers and sailors attempted to revolt against the customary discipline, but count bayona suppressed the incipient mutiny before it had the time to develop. as soon as war had been declared between france and spain the promoters of the french colonization schemes that had modestly begun to materialize along southern coast of the american continent, embraced this opportunity to attack the spanish settlements in florida. on the fourteenth of may, , bienville, the brother and successor of the famous d'iberville, arrived at pensacola and in the name of the french king demanded the capitulation of the town. unprepared for such an eventuality and unable to resist superior forces, d. juan pedro metamores, the governor of pensacola, surrendered and the garrison left with all honors of war. they were transported in french vessels to havana. but already on this involuntary voyage metamores was considering measures of retaliation. when the french vessels _toulouse_ and _mareschal de villars_ reached cuba and landed the prisoners, they were seized by the governor of havana, who on learning of the disaster at pensacola decided upon its recapture. a fleet consisting of one spanish warship, nine brigantines and the two french vessels was quickly made ready and metamores with his captured troops embarked for pensacola. on the sixth of august he entered the harbor with the french vessels flying the french colors as decoys. the french commander refused to surrender and a cannonade began. then the french demanded an armistice which was followed by the exchange of more shots and finally the garrison of one hundred men marched out, also with honors of war, under the command of chateaugue. they were sent to havana and were to be transported to spain, but in the meantime were imprisoned in morro castle. metamores resumed his governorship of pensacola. but in september bienville, the brother of chateaugue, assisted by a french fleet under champmeslin, with a large force of canadians and indians, attacked pensacola once more. metamores was defeated and with some of his spanish troops sent to havana to be exchanged for the french prisoners held there since august. the remaining spaniards were sent to france as prisoners of war. it seems from the records of the historian blanchet that governor guazo in the following year made an attempt to reconquer pensacola. he sent an expedition of fourteen ships and nine hundred men under the command of d. esteban de berroa, who succeeded in taking the place. but in the further course of the engagement between the two forces, the french regained possession and defeated the cubans, many of whom were made prisoners and sent to spain. of governor guazo's efforts to improve the fortifications of havana, an inscription on the inner side of the gate of tierra bears witness. it reads: reynando la majesdad catolica del senor felipe v. rey de las espanas y siendo gobernador de esta ciudad, e isla de cuba el brigadier de los reales exercitos d. gregorio guazo calderon fernandez de la vega, caballero del orden de santiago. ano de . in the reign of his catholic majesty philip v. king of the spains, and when the governor of this town and island of cuba was the brigadier of the royal armies d. gregorio guazo calderon fernandez de la vega, knight of the order of saint james. in the year . chapter xxvii the wonderful impetus which the discoverers and explorers of spain gave to the spirit of adventure by opening to the world the gates of a new and strange world, promptly began to bear fruit among those nations who had always been daring navigators. young men with no ties, either of family or profession, to hold them, were suddenly fired with the desire to see the new continent which the genius of columbus and his associates had brought within their reach, and set out in quest of what promised to be a precious new experience. most of these men were fairly well educated and sensed the importance of all these enterprises. they set out as eager observers and they did not fail to record their observations and impressions in the frank and unadorned manner of unsophisticated onlookers. some kept a daily record of their experiences, others jotted down what seemed to them the most striking incidents; still others embodied their reflections on what they had seen and heard in letters that were sent home whenever an occasion presented itself. out of this great mass of personal records of travel in the new world a number stand out as deserving of more than passing notice, and though a careful perusal of these books shows a tendency on the part of some authors to repeat what they had heard or read in the reports of their predecessors, there is something worth noting in every individual volume. among the writers who were evidently the source from which many authors drew to corroborate and complete their personal observations is tordesillas herrera, his spanish majesty's chief chronicler, traces of whose "description of the west indies," which was translated into dutch, english, french and other languages are found in many books. the writings of that worthy prelate and champion of the indians, bartolomeo de las casas, have also been drawn upon by many writers. almost amusing in the light of later day events, is a copiously illustrated little book in which a pious german translator dwells with unctuous self-righteousness on the cruelties practised by the spaniards upon the natives of the islands. herrera thus relates the story of the first settlement of cuba in the second volume of "a description of the west indies," which was translated into dutch, english, french and other languages and appeared in english in the year : "this same year , the admiral don james columbus, resolved to make settlements in cuba, knowing it to be an island, the soil good, populous and abounding in provisions. to this purpose he made use of james velasquez, being the wealthiest and best belov'd of all the first spanish inhabitants in hispaniola. besides he was a man of experience, of a mild and affable temper, tho' he knew how to maintain his authority; of body well-shap'd, of complexion fair, and very discreet. as soon as it was known in hispaniola that james velasquez was going to make settlements in cuba, abundance of people resolv'd to bear him company, some because, as has been said, he was belov'd and others because they were ruin'd and in debt. all these, being about three hundred men, rendezvous'd in the town of salvatiena de la zavana to embark aboard four ships, this place being at the extremity of hispaniola. before we proceed any further, it is fit to observe that the province of guahaba lying next to cuba, the distance between the two points being but eighteen leagues, many indians went over to cuba in their canoes and among them pass'd over, with as many of his men as could, a cazique of the said province of guahaba, call'd hatuey, a brave and discreet man. he settled on the nearest country known by the name of mazci, and possessing himself of that part kept the people as subjects, but not as slaves; for it was never found in the indies that any difference was made between a free people or even their own children and slaves, unless it were in new spain, and the other provinces, where they us'd to sacrifice prisoners to their idols which was not practis'd in these islands. this cazique hatuey, fearing that the spaniards would at some time pass over into cuba, always kept spies to know what was doing in hispaniola and being inform'd of the admiral's design, he assembled his people who it is likely were of the most martial, and putting them in mind of their many sufferings under the spaniards told them: 'they did all that for a great lord they were very fond of, which he would show them' and then taking some gold out of a little palm tree basket, added 'this is the lord whom they serve, him they follow, and as you have already heard, they are about passing over hither, only to seek this lord, therefore let us make a festival, and dance to him, to the end that when they come, he may order them not to do us harm.' accordingly they all began to sing and dance till they were quite tir'd, for it was their custom to dance as long as they could stand, from nightfall till break of day, and these dances were as in hispaniola, to the musick of their songs, and tho' fifty thousand men and women were assembled, no one differ'd in the least from the rest in the motions of their hands, feet and bodies; but those of cuba far exceeded the natives of hispaniola, their songs being more agreeable. when they were spent with singing and dancing before the little basket of gold, hatuey bid them not to keep the lord of the christians in any place whatsoever, for if he were in their bowels, they would fetch him out, and therefore they should cast him in the river under water, where they would not find him, and so they did." following is a description of the natives of cuba, quoted from the same work: "the first inhabitants of this island were the same as those of the lucayos, a good sort of people and well temper'd. they had caziques and towns of two or three hundred houses with several families in each of them as was usual in hispaniola. they had no religion as having no temples or idols or sacrifices; but they had the physicians or conjuring priests as in hispaniola, who it was thought had communication with the devil and their questions answered by him. they fasted three or four months to obtain this favour, eating nothing but the juice of herbs, and when reduced to extreme weakness they were worthy of that hellish apparition, and to be inform'd whether the season of the year would be favorable or otherwise, what children would be born, whether those born would live, and such like questions. these were their oracles, and these conjurers they call'd behiques, who led the people in so many superstitions and fopperies, during the sick by blowing on them, and such other exterior actions, mumbling some word between their teeth. these people of cuba knew that heaven, the earth and other things had been created, and said that they had much information concerning the flood, and the world had been destroy'd by water from three persons that came three several ways. men of above seventy years of age said that an old man knowing the deluge was to come, built a great ship and went into it with his family and abundance of animals, then he sent out a crow which did not return, staying to feed on the dead bodies, and afterward return'd with a green branch; in the other particulars, as far as noah's sons covering him when drunk, and then they scoffing at it; adding that the indians descended from the latter, and therefore had no coats nor cloaks; but that the spaniards, descending from the other that cover'd him, were therefore cloath'd and had horses. what has been here said, was told by an indian of above seventy years of age to gabriel de cabrera who one day quarreling with him called him dog, whereupon he call'd, why he abus'd and call'd him dog, since they were brethren, as descending from the sons of him that made the great ship, with all the rest that has been said before." herrera's description of the island may have inspired many writers coming after him; it had, however, the advantage of giving one of the earliest and therefore most spontaneous impressions on record. here is a sample of his descriptive power: "this island is very much wooded, for man may travel along it almost two hundred and thirty leagues, always under trees of several sorts, and particularly sweet scented and red cedars, as thick as an ox, of which they made such large canoes that they would contain fifty or sixty persons, and of this sort there were once great numbers in cuba. there are storax trees, and if a man in the morning gets upon a high place the vapors that rise from the earth perfectly smell of storax coming from the fire the indians make at night, and drawn up when the sun rises. another sort of trees produce a fruit call'd xaguas, as big as veal kidneys, which being beaten and laid by four or five days, tho' not gather'd ripe, are full of liquor like honey, and better tasted than the sweetest pears. there are abundance of wild vines that run up high, bearing grapes, and wine has been made of them, but somewhat aigre, and there being an infinite quantity of them throughout all the island, the spaniards were wont to say they had seen a vineyard that extended two hundred and thirty leagues. some of the trunks of these vines are as thick as a man's body, which proceeded from extraordinary moisture and fertility of the soil. all the island is very pleasant and more temperate than hispaniola, very healthy, has safer harbors for many ships than if they had been made by art, as is that of santiago on the southern coast being in the shape of a cross, that of xagua is scarce to be matched in the world, the ships pass into it through a narrow mouth, not above a cross bow shot over and then turned into the open part of it, which is about ten leagues in compass with three little islands so posited, that they may make fast their ships to stakes on them, and they will never budge, all the compass being shelter'd by mountains, as if they were in a house, and there the indians had pens to shut up the fish. on the north side there are good harbours, the best being that which was call'd de carenas, and now the havana, so large that few can compare to it; and twenty leagues to the eastward of it is that of matanzas, which is not very safe. about the middle of the island is another good port, call'd del principe, and almost at the end that of baracoa, where much good ebony is cut; between which there are other good anchoring places, tho' not large." in a volume entitled "voyages and travels" and edited by raymond beazley, there is a record of travels in mexico - by one john chilton, which says on the title-page: "a notable discourse of master john chilton, touching the people, manners, mines, metals, riches, forces and other memorable things of the west indies seen and noted by himself in the time of his travels continued in those parts the space of seventeen or eighteen years." he writes of havana: "merchants after travelling from nicaragua, honduras, porto rico, santo domingo, jamaica and all other places in the indies arrive there, on their return to spain; for that in this port they take in victuals and water and the most part of their landing. here they meet from all the foresaid places, always in the beginning of may by the king's commandment. at the entrance of this port, it is so narrow that there can scarce come in two ships together, although it be above six fathoms deep in the narrowest place of it. "in the north side of the coming in, there standeth a tower in which there watcheth every day a man to descry the call of ships which he can see on the sea; and as many as he discovereth so many banners he setteth upon the tower, that the people of the town (which standeth within the port about a mile from the tower) may understand thereof. "under this tower there lieth a sandy shore, where men may easily go aland; and by the tower there runneth a hill along by the water's side, which easily with small store of ordnance, subdueth the town and port. the port within is so large that there may easily ride a thousand sail of ships, without anchor or cable; for no wind is able to hurt them. "there inhabit within the town of havana about three hundred spaniards and about sixty soldiers; which the king maintaineth there, for the keeping of a certain castle which he hath of late erected, which hath planted in it about twelve pieces of small ordnance. it is compassed round with a small ditch, where through at their pleasure, they may let in the sea. "about two leagues from havana there lieth another town called guanabacoa, in which there are dwelling about one hundred indians; and from this place sixty leagues there lieth another town named bahama, situated on the north side of the island. the chiefest city of the island of cuba which is above two hundred miles in length, is also called cuba (santiago de cuba); where dwelleth a bishop and about spaniards; which town standeth on the south side of the island about a hundred leagues from havana. "all the trade of this island is cattle; which they kill only for the hides that are brought thence into spain. for which end the spaniards maintain there many negroes to kill the cattle, and foster a great number of hogs, which being killed are cut into small pieces that dry in the sun; and so make provisions for the ships which come for spain." many books of west indian travel are by french writers, among them an anonymous "relation des voyages et des decouvertes que las espagnols on fait," jean de laët's "histoire du nouveau monde," jean baptiste labat's "nouveau voyage aux îles de l'amérique," françois coréal's "relation des voyages aux indes occidentales" and that interesting work entitled "relation de ce qui s'est passé dans les îles et terra firma de l'amérique," which does not give the name of the author, but bears on its title-page the name of the printer, "gervais clouzier au palais, à la seconde boutique sur les degrés en montant pour aller à la ste. chapelle au voyageur mdclxxi" and is dedicated to the duc de luynes, a peer of france. there is also the work of a dutchman, linschoten: "histoire de la navigation de jean hugues de linschoten," which has been translated into english, french and other languages. jan huygens van linschoten was a born traveler. his favorite reading had always been books of travel and as the news of the exploits of foreign mariners in the new world came pouring into holland, this young dutchman was seized with an irresistible longing to see those far-off worlds. he frankly speaks in his book of travel of the difficulties he encountered in trying to persuade his family to approve of his venture, and whether they did or not, he set out for lisbon as the place where he would be most likely to obtain passage. he arrived there just after the death of alba. he found the peninsula in great commotion which even interrupted the regular routine of overseas traffic. but a man of daring puts his trust in chance, and chance favored the venturesome youth by an extraordinary opportunity. there was at that time a noble dominican monk in lisbon, fra vincente fonseca, scion of a distinguished family. he had been a preacher to king sebastian of portugal, had done missionary work in africa and been later attached to the court of madrid as confessor of philip ii. the archbishopric of the west indies having become vacant, fonseca was appointed, but he was unwilling to accept this position, dreading the long voyage and a repetition of some unpleasant experiences which he had had in africa. the king, however, insisted, promised to recall him in four or five years and held out to him the lure of rich revenues. so fra fonseca finally accepted, and jan huygens van linschoten succeeded in obtaining a position in the retinue of the prelate. linschoten's brother, who was secretary to the king, being tired of court life, had also asked to be sent overseas and was about to sail as scribe on board a vessel going to the levant. but on learning of his brother's luck, he decided also to go to the west indies and joined the fleet waiting to embark in some professional capacity. there were five vessels; the admiral ship called _san felipe_, the vice-admiral _san diego_, the third was _san laurente_, the fourth _san francisco_ and the fifth _san salvador_. the two brothers boarded the latter, and set sail on good friday, the eighth of april, . jan huygens van linschoten has this to say of cuba: "cuba is a very large island belonging to the antille group, first discovered by christopher colomb in , and called by him jeanne et ferdinande and also alpha and omega. it has also by others been called island of santiago, after the name of the principal town, so considered on account of the great harbor and big trade. to the east it has the island of san domingo, to the west yucatan, to the north the extremity of florida and the lucaya islands, to the south the island of jamaica. the island of cuba is greater in length than in width; it measures from one end to the other three hundred leagues, from north to south seventy and in width it is only fifteen and in some places nineteen leagues. the center of the island is at degrees longitude and twenty latitude. the island has long been considered part of the continent on account of its size, of which one ought not to be surprised, for the inhabitants themselves seem not to know its limits and since the arrival of the spaniards they know no better, being a people, naked and simple and contented with their government and bothering about no other. the ground is rough and hilly. the sea makes inlets in various places; there are small rivers, the good waters of which carry gold and copper. the air is moderately warm, sometimes a little cold. you find there dye-stuffs for linen and furs. the island is full of shady woods, ponds and beautiful fresh water rivers; you also find plenty of ponds the waters of which are naturally salt. the forests contain wild boars. the rivers frequently yield gold. "in this island are six cities, inhabited by spaniards, the first and principal of which is san jago, which is the seat of the archbishop; but havana is the principal mercantile center of the island and there they build ships. two notable things were remarked on this island by gonsalo onetano. one is a valley between two mountains, of the length of two or three spanish leagues, where you find boulders by nature so round that they could not be rounded better, and in such quantity that they could serve as ballast for several ships, that use cannon balls instead of lead or iron. the other is a mountain, not far from the coast, from which there is a constant flow of pitch to the coast and wherever the wind may divert it. the residents and spaniards use this pitch to tar their vessels. "the inhabitants of this island are like those of the island of spain (hispaniola) though a little different in language. both men and women go about naked. in their marriage a strange custom prevails; the husband is not the first to approach his wife. if he is a gentleman, he invites all gentlemen to precede him; if he is a merchant, he invites the merchants, if he is a peasant, he asks the gentlemen and the priests. the men can for the slightest cause abandon the women; but the wives cannot desert their husband for any reason whatsoever. the men are very inconstant and lead a bad life. the soil produces big worms and serpents or snakes that are not poisonous so the people eat them without danger. and these snakes feed on certain little animals called guabiniquinazes, of which sometimes seven or eight are found in their stomach, although they are as big as hares, resembling a fox, the head of a weasel, the tail of a fox, the hair long like a deer's, color somewhat reddish, and the flesh tender and wholesome. this island should be well populated; but it is not so at present, unless it be by some spaniards, who have exterminated the greater number of natives, of which many died of starvation." the sieur jean de laët d'anners, whose history of the new world bears the imprint of bonaventure and elzevir, printers of the university of leyden, also gives a description of cuba as it was in the sixteenth and beginning of the seventeenth century. he says: "there are few towns in proportion to the size of the island; santiago ranks first, both for its age and name; it was built by diego velasco. at the south coast of the island about degrees north latitude, opposite hispaniola, almost two miles from the sea, in the depth of a harbor which one may well pronounce the first among the large and safe harbors of the new world. for the ocean enters through a narrow inlet and is received by a large bay, like a gulf, with several little islands; it is so safe a port that one does not need to cast anchor. this city was once well populated, but now the population is reduced to a very small number. it has a cathedral church and a bishop suffragans of the archbishopric of san domingo and a monastery of the minorite brothers. it is owned by the lieutenant-governor of the island. the chief articles of trade are ox-skins and sugar. three miles from the town are rich mines of copper, which is now extracted from high mountains, called for that reason by the spaniards sierras de cobre. "near this town to the east about thirty miles is the town of baracoa, built by the same velasco on the north coast the forests near this town yield very good ebony and according to other reports brazilian redwood. "the third city is san salvador or bayamo from the name of the province, built by the same velasco, thirty miles from santiago, which surpasses all other towns of the island by good air, fertile soil and beautiful plains; it is in the center of the island, but merchandise is brought from the sea by the river caute, which is opposite. among the treasures of this island are certain stones of divers size, but all perfectly round, so they could serve as cannon balls; they are said to be so numerous on the shores of the river bearing the name of the town, that they seem to have rained from the sky. oniedo says they are found in a marshy valley almost midway between this city and santiago. "puerto de principe ranks fourth; town and harbor, much esteemed by mariners, are to the north of the island, forty leagues from santiago northwest. not far are springs of bitumen, which monardes mentions (and which the indians use as remedy for chills). i believe they are the naptha of the ancients. "santi spiritus of forty to fifty houses is more a village than a town and its harbor is good only for barges and sloops. but vessels stop there on their way from santiago, bayamo and puerto principe to havana. "trinite-trinidad--once populated by indians, now almost deserted, has an inconvenient harbor and was the scene of some shipwrecks. "havana receives the sea by a narrow but deep inlet, enlarging into a wide bay, with coasts at first diverging and then meeting, capable of holding a thousand vessels as if in a safe bosom. all the spanish fleets coming from the meridional continent, new spain and the islands, loaded with a variety of merchandise and an abundance of gold and silver, stop there to take on water and necessary victuals, and when a sufficient number has collected, in september or later, they go out together or in two fleets through the straits of bahama towards spain: the city has besides the garrison (the number of which is uncertain, although the king sends the pay for a thousand soldiers and more) three hundred spanish families, some portuguese and a large number of slaves. the governor of the island and the other royal officers reside there. it surpasses not only the other cities of the island, but almost all of america by the size and safety of her port, her wealth and her commerce. the neighboring forests furnish a great abundance of excellent woods, which they use to build their ships, which is a very great convenience. they have also tried to work some copper mines not far from the town; but without success, either because the veins failed, or the laborers were too ignorant or the expense was greater than the profit." many of the writers of these books of travel dwell at length upon the wealth of precious woods found on the island. one of them makes a list which contains the following: l'acana, called vegetable iron, cedar, majagna (mahogany) frijolillo, a wood with shaded veins, granadillo, a wood light purple in color, ebony, yew and many others. wood was so plentiful that it was even used instead of metal in machinery. foreigners visiting the first sugar refinery in cuba, which was in founded by brigadier gonzales de velosa, associated with the veedor cristobal de tapia and his brother, found the machines made of hard wood. the variety of fruits is also commented upon by the travelers that visited cuba in the sixteenth and the beginning of the seventeenth century. they mention among the fruit trees abundant in cuba the cocoa trees of los remedios, the ubiquitous banana, the orange, the west india chestnut, the fruit-bearing palms, guesima, garoubier, yaya and others. françois coréal's "relation des voyages aux indes occidentales" also contains some interesting data and goes into the causes of the decline of spanish power in the west indies. coréal, who seems to be of spanish origin or at least citizenship, says among other things: "there grows in porto rico a guiac tree, the wood of which was considered a sovereign remedy against small-pox. indians sometimes told me, were it but for that wood, one should be glad that america was discovered. these indians often asked me whether there are any drugs against small pox growing in europe; and when i told them that many excellent antivenereal remedies came from the west indies, they remarked with some common sense and not without a touch of irony, that god had much kindness for the castellanos, having given them their gold, their wives and even their guiac." in another part of the very readable work he says: "it is certain the spaniards owe the rapidity of their conquest of america to the sudden (and almost miraculous) fear with which the indians were seized at the approach of the new enemy. it seems that without it we would have had much more trouble; but artillery was unknown to these americans, so was military discipline, which we understood better than they, so they with extraordinary rapidity cleared for us the roads to the south sea and on to chili and the straits of magellan. this facility of our conquest made for carelessness, which from that time through the luxury and idleness of our people increased, until it became almost inconceivable. as our people rather scorned the indians and considered them almost a sort of intermediary creature between man and beast, it was believed that lands so easily conquered could not be as easily lost; and there was some reason for this belief, for at that time spain had no rival on the sea, there was nothing to fear from the indians themselves, who could not hold out against us conquerors. later we had even less fear, for the spanish monarchy became a formidable power to all europe and when it ceased to be so, interests and politics had so changed that one was obliged to leave us in peaceful ownership of a possession which could have been taken from us as easily as we had conquered it. "this is according to my opinion the main cause of the decline of spanish power in america. there are others which are no less real. as soon as one has set foot in the new world, you are confronted with an endless lot of plunderers and marauders, who call themselves soldiers, ravage the beautiful country, pillage the treasures of the indians, torture the inhabitants and rob them of their property and freedom, under a thousand pretences unworthy of christianity and of spanish generosity. so that several of these nations which at the beginning favored the spaniards, became in time their most mortal enemies. these plunderers, i cannot call them anything else, ruined at the outset the authority of the king and by their wickedness hindered all the good that one could have expected from the friendship of native residents. royal authority being poorly upheld by these bad subjects of the king, and the facile abundance which they had found, having plunged them into all sorts of vice, their pride made them look upon the indians as their slaves and even as property acquired by the sword, which succeeded in spoiling our position with the natives. it is quite certain that these people would not wish for more than to throw off the yoke of servitude under which they sigh to-day as did their ancestors before them." the author of the book printed by gervais glouzier, "relation de ce qui s'est passé dans les îles et la terra firma de l'amérique pendant la dernière guerre avec l'angleterre, etc." also dwells upon the policy pursued by certain spanish adventurers and officials towards the natives of the islands: "the spaniards pretended to have recognized the natives of these islands as being anthropophagous, and asked the king of castile permission to capture them, i.e., to take and make them slaves (which they did elsewhere without permission), so they did not approach the antilles except armed, and in the character of enemies; and the indians who inhabited them prepared to make upon them the most cruel war, as soon as they saw vessels off their coasts, be it openly or from ambush in the woods, or by surprise attacks, when the strangers wanted to take water or leave the vessels, which irritated these people and many a spaniard regretted having obliged them to go to such extremities. "things of this kind happened in the antilles during the fifteenth century when the spaniards were busy making other discoveries, wherever gold or silver attracted them and for the conservation of which and the exploitation of mines they could not furnish a sufficient number of men. they had no idea of settling down to cultivate the soil of these lands, and waiting only to procure the convenience of taking on water or leaving their invalids to recuperate on st. christopher island, they made peace with the indians who inhabited this island, and continued to treat as enemies all those of other islands. "when at the end of this century and the beginning of the sixteenth, the english and french sailed on the seas of america, the first with more considerable forces like those conducted by drake, walter raleigh, kenits and others, and the french with less armaments, the voyages of the ones and the others in those little frequented climates made some other compatriots conceive the idea of establishing themselves on american soil and found colonies, which would furnish subsistence to a considerable number of their nation and serve as retreat to those vessels where they could renew their supplies. in this way in two adventurers, the one french, named d'enemène 'de la maison de duil en normandie,' the other also a gentleman, an englishman named v. varnard, moved by the same desire landed on the same day on st. christopher's, which they had chosen for their purpose and from there all the french and british settlements in the antilles radiated." these records of visits to the west indies by dutch, english, french and other travellers following in the wake of the great discoverers and explorers, rise almost to the importance of documentary evidence, when they attempt to deal with such questions as the attitude of the spaniards towards the natives of the new world. but mainly they are narratives, setting down simply and unpretentiously the impressions made upon european visitors by the bigness of dimensions and proportions and the abundance of natural products of all sorts. there is a spirit of wonderment at the riches so profusely bestowed upon this western world; but there is not yet a trace of the jealousy so apparent in later writings, when commercial rivalry had divided the nations of europe into hostile camps and finally arrayed all of them against spain. though not always written by men who had set out in pursuit of adventure, they convey to the reader a breath of the oldtime romance of travel in countries the plants and animals and native residents of which are so many objects of curious interest. but viewed as a whole, these books are full of information, at times strangely quickened by an individual human touch, and read at leisure in a certain order, reconstruct the panorama of west indian life in a period which had no parallel in the history of the world. chapter xxviii it was the inscrutable irony of fate that cuba should remain so negligible a quantity during one of the most momentous and progressive periods of human history. no other era since man began his career had been on the whole so marked with greatness. discovery and exploration had doubled the known area of the globe, and the intellectual achievements of the race had even more than kept pace with the material. the era of which we have been writing in this volume saw the completion of columbus's work in his fourth voyage, the exploits of magellan, balboa and cabot, the enterprises of cortez and pizarro, of cartier and raleigh. it saw the rise of religious liberty, and of modern philosophy and science. it saw the art of printing, invented in the preceding century, developed into world-wide significance. this was the era of genius. its annals were adorned with the names of shakespeare and cervantes, of rafael and titian and michael angelo, of holbein and durer, of luther and erasmus, of ariosto and rabelais, of tyndale and knox, of calvin, loyola and xavier, of copernicus and vesalius, of montaigne and camoens, of tycho brahe and kepler, of tasso and spenser, of bacon and jonson, of sidney and lope de vega. it was a wondrous company that passed along the world's highway while cuba was struggling in obscurity to lay the foundations of a future state. nor did spain herself lag behind her neighbor nations. the sixteenth century saw her swift rise to the greatest estate she has ever known, and her development of many of the greatest names in her history. she began the century a newly-formed kingdom uncertain of herself and timorously essaying an ambitious career; and she reached its close one of the most extensive and most powerful empires in the world. we commonly think of her chiefly as a conquering power. but in fact that century of her marvellous conquests of empire was also her golden age in intellect. we may imagine that the swiftness of her rise to primacy among the nations, and the dazzling splendor of her conquests, stimulated and inspired the minds of her people to comparable achievements in the intellectual world. the sixteenth century was indeed to spain what the augustan age was to rome, and what the elizabethan and victorian ages were to england, and for some of the same reasons. it was then that three great universities were founded: salamanca, alcala for science, valladolid for law; and a noteworthy school of navigation at seville. there flourished the philosopher luis vives, the tutor of mary stuart. in jurisprudence there were victoria and vazquez, from whom grotius received his inspiration; and solorzano, with his monumental work of the government of the indies. the drama was adorned by lope de rueda, lope de vega, gabriel tellez, and juan del enzina. the greatest name of all in literature was that of miguel cervantes y saavedra. there were the poets garcilaso de vega, and luis de argote y gongora. there were the painters ribera, and domenico theotocopuli, who inspired velazquez. above all, there was one of the most remarkable groups of historians of any land or age. paez de castro was more than any other man the founder of history as a philosophical study as distinguished from mere polite letters; the forerunner of voltaire and hume. there were florian de ocampo, jeronimo zurita, ambrosio de morales, and the famous jesuit mariana. then there was a remarkable company of historians inspired by the american conquests of spain, who gave their attention to writing of the lands thus added to her empire: oviedo, gomara, bernal diaz, lopez de velasco, las casas, and many more. cortez, pizarro, velasquez and others might conquer lands for spain. these others would see to it that their deeds were fittingly chronicled. there was something more, still more significant. there arose distinguished writers, producing notable works, in the countries of spanish america; some born there, some travelling thither from the peninsula. it was in that the university of santo domingo was founded, which for a time served all the spanish indies and was a great centre of learning. how many poets and dramatists, not to mention historians and other writers, there were in america in that century, we are reminded in cervantes's "viaje de parnaso" and lope de vega's "laurel de apolo." these writers were chiefly in mexico and peru, for obvious reasons. those were spain's chief colonies, and they were those which had themselves the most noteworthy past, a past marked with a high degree of civilization. the first book ever printed in the western hemisphere was the "breve y compendiosa doctrina cristiana," published by juan de zumarraga, the first bishop of mexico, in mexico in . it was about the middle of the century that there appeared the first american book of real literary merit. this was "la araucana," a chilean epic poem, by alonso de ercilla y zuñiga. another epic, with hernando cortez for its hero, was "cortez valeroso," by gabriel lasso de la vega, in . the next year saw juan de castellanos's prodigious historical and biographical poem of , lines, "elegias de varones ilustres de indias." another epic of cortez was antonio de saavedra guzman's "peregrino indiano," in . in all these things cuba had no part. in later centuries that island could boast of poets and other writers worthy to rank with their best contemporaries of other lands. but in that marvellous sixteenth century she seems to have produced not a single name worthy of remembrance. in the rich productivity of spanish intellect cuba remained unrepresented. in oriente, in camaguey and in havana there may be found legends and ballads of unknown but ancient origin, which are assumed to have been composed perhaps in the days of velasquez, and to have been passed down orally from generation to generation. _quien sabe?_ it is quite probable that such was their origin; but it is quite certain that their authors are unknown. for this lack of intellectual productivity in the first century of cuba's history, and indeed the lack of any noteworthy achievements, the reason is not difficult to perceive. as we observed at the beginning of this volume, cuba, at the advent of europeans, was a country without a civilization and without a past. mexico, yucatan and peru had enjoyed civilizations not unworthy of comparison with those of europe and asia, the remains of which attracted thither the intellects of spain, and inspired them. but cuba had nothing of the sort. again, the vast wealth of mexico and peru attracted to those countries many more explorers, conquerors and colonists than cuba could draw to herself. and there was also the partiality which was shown to them by royal favor and in royal interest. we shall have reviewed the annals of the first cuban century to little purpose if we do not perceive that during the greater part of that time the "queen of the antilles," the "pearl of the west indies," as she was even then occasionally and afterward habitually called, was the cinderella of the spanish empire; a cinderella destined, however, one day to meet her fairy prince and thus to be wakened into splendor not surpassed by the finest of her sisters. the close of the sixteenth century marked, then, approximately a great turning point in cuban history. thitherto she had been exclusively identified with spain. she had developed no individuality and had exercised no influence upon other lands and their relationships, or indeed upon the empire of which she was a part. it was left for later years to make her an important factor in international affairs and to develop in her an individuality worthy of an independent sovereign among the nations of the world. yet in these very circumstances which we have recounted, and which upon the face of them appeared to be and indeed were for the time so unfavorable, there were developed the influences which unerringly led to the subsequent greatness of the island. the earliest settlers were not only of spanish origin but also of spanish sympathies. they could not be expected to have any affection for or any pride in the land to which they had come as to a mere "tom tiddler's ground," on which to pick up silver and gold. they valued cuba for only what they could get out of her; many of them glad, after thus gaining wealth, to return to spain, or to go to mexico, venezuela or peru, there the better to enjoy it and to mingle in social pleasures which the primitive life of cuba did not yet afford. there were, however, some even in the first generation who were exceptions to this rule, who loved cuba for her own sake, who wished to identify themselves permanently with her, and who wished to see her developed to the greatness and the splendor for which her natural endowments seemed to them to have designed her. in the second generation the number of such was of course greatly multiplied, and in succeeding generations their increase proceeded at a constantly increasing ratio. thus by the end of the first century of cuban history the great majority of residents of the island regarded themselves as cubans rather than as spaniards. they were spaniards in race and tongue, and they were ready to stand with the peninsular kingdom and the rest of its world-circling empire against any of other tongues and races. but while thus to the outside world they were spaniards, to spain itself and to the people of the peninsula they were cubans; differentiated from spain much more than the catalonian was from the castilian, or the andalusian from the navarrais. this sentiment of differentiation, and of insular individuality, was naturally strengthened by the treatment which the peninsular government accorded to the island. the cubans were made to feel that spain regarded them as apart from her, just as much as they themselves so regarded her. they felt, too, that she was treating them with injustice and with neglect; that instead of nourishing her young plantation and giving it the support of her wealth and strength she was drawing upon it for her own nourishment and support. they would have been either far more or far less than human if they had not thus been incited to a certain degree of resentment and to an assertion of independence. in brief, it was with the cubans even at that early day as it was with the british colonists in north america a century and a half later; though indeed the cubans determined upon separation from the mother country at a comparatively earlier date than the people of the thirteen colonies, or certainly much longer before their achievement of that independence. we know that the british colonists were dissatisfied and protesting for nearly a score of years before their declaration of independence, but that down to within a few months of the latter transcendent event scarcely any of them thought of separation from england. lexington and concord, and even bunker hill, were fought not for independence but for the securing of the same rights for the colonists that their fellow subjects in the british isles enjoyed. but the cubans resolved upon separation from spain not only years but at least two full generations before they were able to achieve it. this spirit belongs to a much later date in cuban history than that of which we are now writing, and to refer to it here is an act of anticipation. but it is desirable to some extent to scan the end from the beginning; to see from the outset to what end we shall come as well as to see at the end from what beginning we have come. moreover, it cannot be too well remembered that even as soon as the latter part of the sixteenth century the people of cuba regarded themselves as cubans, and so called themselves, and had begun the cultivation of a social order and a sentiment of patriotism quite distinct from though not yet necessarily antagonistic to that of spain. the transition from the sixteenth to the seventeenth century was marked, then, with a significant change in the temper and character of cuba, especially by a great accession of the spirit of insular integrity and independence. while spain was great and apparently growing greater, there was a gratifying pride in identification with her. but when her decline began, and showed signs of being as rapid as her rise had been, that pride waned, and there began to arise in its place a pride in cuba, or perhaps we might say at that early date a determination to develop in cuba cause for pride. from that time forward cuba was destined to be more american than european; and though for nearly three centuries she might continue to be a european possession, yet her lot was decided. unconsciously, perhaps, but not the less surely she was drawn into the irresistible current which was drawing all the american settlements away from the european planters of them. it was one of the interesting eccentricities of history that the first important land acquired by spain in the western hemisphere should be the last to leave her sway; and that the first european colonists in america to have cause for complaint against their overlords should be the longest to suffer and the last to secure abatement of their wrongs. such is the reflection caused by consideration of this first era in the history of the queen of the antilles. the end of volume one * * * * * index abarzuza, sr. proposes reforms for cuba, iv, . abreu. marta and rosalie, patriotism of, iv, . academy of sciences, havana, picture of, iv, . adams, john quincy, enunciates american policy toward cuba, ii, ; portrait, ; on cuban annexation, . aglona, prince de. governor, ii, . agramonte, aristide, in yellow fever campaign, iv, . agramonte, enrique, in cuban junta, iv, . agramonte, eugenio sanchez, sketch and portrait, iv, . agramonte, francisco, iv, . agramonte, ignacio, portrait, facing. iii, . agriculture, early attention to, i, , ; progress, ; ii, ; absentee landlords, ; statistics, ; discussed in periodicals, ; rehabilitation of after war of independence, iv, . aguayo, geronimo de, i, . aguero, joaquin de, organizes revolution, iii, ; final defeat, . aguiar, luis de, ii, . aguiera, jose, i, . aguila, negra, ii, . aguilera, francisco v., sketch and portrait, iii, . aguirre, jose maria, filibuster, iv, ; death, . albemarle, earl of, expedition against havana, ii, ; occupies havana, ; controversy with bishop morell, . alcala, marcos, i, . aldama, miguel de, sketch and portrait, iii, . aleman, manuel, french emissary, ii, . algonquins, i, . allen, robert, on "importance of havana," ii, . almendares river, tapped for water supply, i, ; view on, iv, . almendariz, alfonso enrique, bishop, i, . alquiza, sancho de, governor, i, . altamarino, governor, i, ; post mortem trial of velasquez, ; attacked by the guzmans, ; removed, . altamirano, juan c., bishop, i, ; seized by brigands, . alvarado, luis de, i, . alvarado, pedro de, in mexico, i, . amadeus, king of spain, iii, . america, relation of cuba to, i, ; ii, . see <sc>united states</sc>. american revolution, effect of upon spain and her colonies, ii, . american treaty, between great britain and spain, i, . andrea, juan de, ii, . angulo, francisco de, exiled, i, . angulo, gonzales perez de, governor, i, ; emancipation proclamation, ; quarrel with havana council, ; flight from sores, ; end of administration, . anners, jean de laet de, quoted, i, . annexation of cuba to united states, first suggested, ii, , ; campaign for, ; sought by united states, iii, , ; marcy's policy, ; ostend manifesto, ; buchanan's efforts, ; not considered in war of independence, iv, . antonelli, juan bautista, engineering works in cuba, i, ; creates water supply for havana, . apezteguia. marquis de, autonomist leader, iv, . apodaca, juan ruiz, governor, ii, . arana, martin de, warns prado of british approach, ii, . arana, melchior sarto de, commander of la fuerza, i, . arana, pedro de, royal accountant, i, . aranda, esquival, i, . arango, augustin, murder of, iii, . arango, napoleon, treason of, iii, . arango y pareño, francisco, portrait, frontispiece, vol. ii; organizes society of progress, ii, ; leadership in cuba, ; attitude toward slavery, ; his illustrious career, et seq. aranguren, nestor, revolutionist, iv, ; death, . araoz, juan, ii, . arias, a. r., governor, iii, . arias, gomez, i, . arignon, villiet, quoted, ii, , . armona, josé de, ii, . army, cuban, organization of, iii, ; reorganized, ; under jose miguel gomez, iv, . army, spanish, in cuba, iii, , . aroztegui, martin de, ii, . arrate, josé martin felix, historian, ii, , . arredondo, nicolas, governor at santiago, ii, . asbert, gen. ernesto, amnesty case, iv, . "assiento" compact on slavery, ii, . assumption, our lady of the, i, . astor, john jacob, aids war of independence, iv, . asylums for insane, ii, . atares fortress, picture, ii, . atkins, john, book on west indies, ii, . atrocities, committed by spanish, iii, ; cespedes's protest against, ; "book of blood," ; spanish confession of, ; war of destruction, ; weyler's "concentration" policy, iv, . attwood's cay. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. autonomist party, iii, ; iv, ; attitude toward campos in war of independence, ; cabinet under blanco, ; earnest efforts for peace, ; record of its government, . avellanda, gertrudis gomez de, iii, ; portrait, facing, . avila, alfonso de, i, . avila, juan de, governor, i, ; marries rich widow, ; charges against him, ; convicted and imprisoned, . avila. see <sc>davila</sc>. aviles, pedro menendez de, see <sc>menendez</sc>. ayala, francisco p. de, i, . ayilon, lucas v. de, strives to make peace between velasquez and cortez, i, . azcarata, josé luis, secretary of justice, sketch and portrait, iv, . azcarate, nicolas, sketch and portrait, iii, , . azcarraga, gen., spanish premier, iv, . "barbeque" sought by columbus, i, . bachiller, antonio, sketch and portrait, iii, . bacon, robert, assistant secretary of state of u. s., intervenes in revolution, iv, . bahia honda, selected as u. s. naval station, iv, . balboa, vasco nuñez de, i, , . bancroft, george, quoted, i, ; ii, , , , , , . banderas, quintin, revolutionist, iv, ; raid, ; death, . baracoa, columbus at, i, ; velasquez at, ; picture, ; first capital of cuba, , . barreda, baltazar, i, . barreiro, juan bautista, secretary of education, iv, . barrieres, manuel garcia, ii, . barrionuevo, juan maldonado, governor, i, . barsicourt, juan procopio. see <sc>santa clara</sc>, conde. bayamo, founded by velasquez, i, , ; cuban republic organized there, iii, . bayoa, pedro de, i, . bay of cortez, reached by columbus, i, . bees, introduced by bishop morell, ii, ; increase of industry, . "beggars of the sea," raid cuban coasts, i, . bells, church, controversy over, ii, . bembrilla, alonzo, i, . benavides, juan de, i, . berrea, esteban s. de, ii, . betancourt, pedro, civil governor of matanzas, iv, ; loyal to palma, . betancourt. see <sc>cisneros</sc>. "bimini," island of, i, . bishops of roman catholic church in cuba, i, . "black eagle," ii, . <i>black warrior</i> affair, iii, . blanchet, emilio, historian, quoted, ii, , , ; on siege of havana, , . blanco, ramon, governor, iv, ; undertakes reforms, ; plans cuban autonomy, ; on destruction of <i>maine</i>, ; resigns, . blue, victor, observations at santiago, iv, . bobadilla, f. de, i, . boca de la yana, i, . "bohio" sought by columbus, i, . bolivar, simon, ii, ; portrait, ; "liberator," et seq.; influence on cuba, ; "soles de bolivar," . bonel, juan bautista, ii, . "book of blood," iii, . bourne, edward gaylord, quoted, on slavery, ii, ; on spanish in america, . brinas, felipe, iii, . british policy toward spain and cuba, i, ; aggressions in west indies, ; slave trade, ii, ; war of , ; designs upon cuba, ; expedition against havana, , ; conquest of cuba, ; relinquishment to spain, . see <sc>great britain</sc>. broa bay, i, . brooke, gen. john r., receives spanish surrender of cuba, iv, ; proclamation to cuban people, ; retired, . brooks, henry, revolutionist, iv, . buccaneers, origin of, i, . buccarelli, antonio maria, governor, ii, ; retires, . buchanan, james, on u. s. relations to cuba, ii, ; iii, ; minister to great britain, ; as president seeks annexation of cuba to u. s., . bull-fighting, ii, . burgos, juan de, bishop, i, . burtnett, spanish spy against lopez, iii, . bustamente, antonio sanchez de, jurist, sketch and portrait, iv, . caballero, josé agustin, sketch and portrait, iii, . caballo, domingo, ii, . cabanas, defences constructed, ii, ; laurel ditch, view, facing, . caballero, diego de, i, . cabezas, bishop, i, . cabrera, diego de, i, . cabrera, luis, i, . cabrera, lorenzo de, governor, i, ; removed, . cabrera, rafael, filibuster, iv, . cabrera, raimundo, conspirator in new york, iv, ; warned, . cadreyta, marquis de, i, . cagigal, juan manuel de, governor, ii, ; defence of havana, ; removed and imprisoned, . cagigal, juan manuel, governor, ii, ; successful administration, . cagigal de la vega, francisco, defends santiago, ii, ; governor, ; viceroy of mexico, . caguax, cuban chief, i, . calderon, gabriel, bishop, i, . calderon, garcia, quoted, ii, , . calderon de la barca, spanish minister, on <i>la verdad</i>, iii, ; on colonial status, ; negotiations with soulé, . calhoun, john c., on cuba, iii, . calleja y isisi, emilio, governor, iii, ; proclaims martial law, iv, ; resigns, . camaguey. see <sc>puerto principe</sc>, i, . campbell, john, description of havana, ii, . campillo, jose de, ii, . campos, martinez de, governor, iii, ; proclamations to cuba, , ; makes treaty of zanjon and ends ten years war, ; in spanish crisis, iv, ; governor again, ; establishes trocha, ; defeated by maceo, ; conferences with party leaders, , ; removed, . cancio, leopoldo, secretary of treasury, iv, , . canizares, santiago j., minister of interior, iv, . canning, george, policy toward cuba, ii, ; portrait, . canoe, of cuban origin, i, . canon, rodrigo, i, . canovas del castillo, spanish premier, iv, ; assassinated, . cape cruz, columbus at, i, . cape maysi, i, . cape of palms, i, . capote, domingo menendez. vice-president, iv, ; secretary of state, ; president of constitutional convention. . carajaval, lucas, defies dutch, i, . cardenas, lopez lands at, iii, . caribs, i, . carillo, francisco, filibuster, iv, . carleton, sir guy, at havana, ii, . carranza, domingo gonzales, book on west indies, ii, . carrascesa, alfonso, ii, . carreño, francisco, governor, i, ; conditions at his accession, ; dies in office, ; work in rebuilding havana, . carroll, james, in yellow fever campaign, iv, . casa de beneficienca, founded, i, ; ii, . casa de resorgiamento, founded, ii, . casares, alfonso, codifies municipal ordinances, i, . castellanos, jovellar, last spanish governor of cuba, iv, ; surrenders spanish sovereignty, . castillo, demetrio, civil governor of oriente, iv, . castillo, ignacio maria del, governor, iii, . castillo, loinaz, revolutionist. iv, . castillo, pedro del, bishop, i, . castro, hernando de, royal treasurer, i, . cathcart lord, expedition to west indies, ii, . cathedral of havana, picture, facing i, ; begun, i, . cat island. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. cayo, san juan de los remedios del, removal of, i, . cazones, gulf of, i, . cemi, cuban worship of, i, . census, of cuba, first taken, by torre, ii, ; by las casas, ; of slaves, ; of , ; of , ; humboldt on, ; of , ; of , ; of , ; of , ; of , iv, ; of , . cespedes, carlos manuel, iii, ; portrait, facing ; in spain, ; leads cuban revolution, ; president of republic, ; proclamation, ; negotiations with spain, ; removed from office, . cespedes, carlos manuel, filibuster, iv, . cespedes, enrique, revolutionist, iv, . cervera, admiral, brings spanish fleet to cuba, iv, ; portrait, ; surrenders, . chacon, josé bayoma, ii, . chacon, luis, i, , . chalons, sr., secretary of public works, iv, . chamber of commerce founded, ii, . charles i, king, i, ; denounces oppression of indians, . chaves, antonio, governor, i, ; prosecutes avila, ; ruthless policy toward natives, ; controversy with king, ; dismissed from office, . chaves, juan baton de, i, . chilton, john, describes havana, i, . chinchilla, josé, governor, iii, . chinese, colonies in america, i, ; laborers imported into cuba, ii, . chorrera, expected to be drake's landing place, i, . chorrera river, dam built by antonelli, i, . christianity, introduced into cuba by ojeda, i, ; urged by king ferdinand, . church, roman catholic, organized and influential in cuba, i, ; cathedral removed from baracoa to santiago, ; conflict with civil power, ; controversy with british during british occupation, ii, ; division of island into two dioceses, ; attitude toward war of independence, iv, ; controversy over property, . cienfuegos, josé, governor, ii, . cimmarones, "wild indians," i, ; revolt against de soto, . cipango, cuba identified with, by columbus, i, . cisneros, gaspar betancourt, sketch and portrait, ii, . cisneros, pascal jiminez de, ii, , . cisneros, salvador, iii, ; sketch and portrait, ; president of cuban republic, ; president of council of ministers, iv, ; in constitutional convention, . civil service, law, iv, ; respected by president menocal, . clay, henry, policy toward cuba, ii, . clayton, john m., u. s. secretary of state, issues proclamation against filibustering, iii, . cleaveland, samuel, controversy over church bells, ii, . cleveland, grover. president of united states, issues warning against breaches of neutrality, iv, ; reference to cuba in message of , ; its significance, . coat of arms of cuba, picture, iv, ; significance, . cobre, copper mines, i, , . "cockfighting and idleness" campaign, iv, . coffee, cultivation begun, ii, , . coinage, reformed, ii, ; statistics of, . collazo, enrique, filibuster, iv, . coloma, antonio lopez, revolutionist, iv, . colombia, designs upon cuba, ii, ; iii, ; attitude toward cuban revolution, . columbus, bartholomew, recalled to spain, i, . columbus, christopher, portrait, frontispiece, vol. i; discoverer of america, i; i; first landing in america, ; monument on watling's island, picture, ; arrival in cuba, ; question as to first landing place, ; first impressions of cuba and intercourse with natives, ; exploration of north coast, ; end of first visit, ; second visit, ; exploration of south coast, ; at bay of cortez, ; turns back from circumnavigation, ; at isle of pines, ; final departure from cuba, ; diary and narrative, et seq.; death and burial, ; tomb in havana cathedral, ; removal to seville, ; removal from santo domingo to havana, ii, ; epitaph, . columbus, diego, plans exploration and colonization of cuba, i, ; attempts mediation between velasquez and cortez, ; replaces velasquez with zuazo, ; rebuked by king, . comendador, cacique, i, . commerce, begun by velasquez, i, ; rise of corporations, ii, ; after british occupation, ; under torre, ; reduction of duties, ; extension of trade, ; tribunal of commerce founded, ; real compania de havana, ; restrictive measures, ; chamber of commerce founded, ; commerce with united states, iii, ; during american occupation, iv, ; present, . compostela, diego e. de, bishop, i, ; death, . concepcion, columbus's landing place, i, . concessions, forbidden under american occupation, iv, . concha, josé gutierrez de la, governor, iii, , . conchillos, royal secretary, i, . congress, cuban, welcomed by gen. wood, iv, ; turns against palma, ; friendly to gomez, ; hostile to menocal, ; protects the lottery, . constitution: cuban republic of , iii, ; of , iv, ; call for constitutional convention, ; meeting of convention, ; draft completed, ; salient provisions, ; elihu root's comments, ; convention discusses relations with united states, ; platt amendment, ; amendment adopted, ; text of constitution, et seq.; the nation, ; cubans, ; foreigners, ; individual rights, ; suffrage, ; suspension of guarantees, ; sovereignty, ; legislative bodies, ; senate, ; house of representatives, ; congress, ; legislation, ; executive, ; president, ; vice-president, ; secretaries of state, ; judiciary, ; supreme court, ; administration of justice, ; provincial governments, ; provincial councils, ; provincial governors, ; municipal government, ; municipal councils, ; mayors, ; national treasury, ; amendments, ; transient provisions, ; appendix (platt amendment), . "constitutional army," iv, . contreras, andres manso de, i, . contreras, damien, i, . convents, founded, i, ; nuns of santa clara, . conyedo, juan de, bishop, ii, . copper, discovered near santiago, i, ; wealth of mines, ; reopened, ii, ; exports, iii, . corbalon, francisco r., i, . cordova de vega, diego de, governor, i, . cordova, francisco h., expedition to yucatan, i, . cordova ponce de leon, josé fernandez, governor, i, . coreal, francois, account of west indies, quoted, i, . coronado, manuel, gift for air planes, iv, . cortes, spanish, cuban representation in, ii, ; excluded, ; lack of representation, iii, ; after ten years' war, . cortez, hernando, alcalde of santiago de cuba, i, ; sent to mexico by king, ; agent of velasquez, ; early career, ; portrait, ; quarrel with velasquez, ; marriage, ; commissioned by velasquez to explore mexico, ; sails for mexico, ; final breach with velasquez, ; denounced as rebel, ; escapes murder, . cosa, juan de la, geographer, i, , . councillors, appointed for life, i, ; conflict with procurators, . creoles, origin of name, ii, . crittenden, j. j., protests against european intervention in cuba, iii, . crittenden, william s., with lopez, iii, ; captured, ; death, . crombet, flor, revolutionist, iv, , . crooked island. see <sc>isabella</sc>. crowder, gen. enoch h., head of consulting board, iv, . cuba: relation to america, i, ; columbus's first landing, ; identified with mangi or cathay, ; with cipango, ; earliest maps, ; physical history, , et seq.; columbus's discovery, et seq.; named juana, ; other names, ; columbus's account of, ; geological history, - ; topography, - ; climate, - ; first circumnavigation, ; colonization, ; velasquez at baracoa, ; commerce begun, ; government organized, ; named ferdinandina, ; policy of spain toward, ; slow economic progress, ; land legislation, ; spanish discrimination against, ; divided into two districts, ; british description in , ; various accounts, ; turning point in history, ; close of first era, ; british conquest, ii, ; relinquished to spain, ; great changes effected, ; economic condition, ; reoccupied by spain, ; untouched by early revolutions, ; effect of revolution in santo domingo, ; first suggestion of annexation to united states, ; "ever faithful isle," ; rise of independence, ; censuses, et seq.; representation in cortes, ; "soles de bolivar," ; representatives rejected from cortes, ; transformation of popular spirit, ; independence proclaimed, iii, ; republic organized, ; war of independence, iv, ; spanish elections held during war, ; blanco's plan of autonomy, ; sovereignty surrendered by spain, ; list of spanish governors, . see <sc>republic of cuba</sc>. cuban aborigines; i, ; manners, customs and religion, et seq.; columbus's first intercourse, , ; priest's address to columbus, ; columbus's observations of them, ; hostilities begun by velasquez, ; subjected to repartimiento system, ; practical slavery, ; key indians, ; cimmarones, ; new laws in their favor, ; rojas's endeavor to save them, ; final doom, ; efforts at reform, ; oppression by chaves, ; angulo's emancipation proclamation, . "cuba-nacan," i, . "cuba and the cubans," quoted, ii, . "cuba y su gobierno," quoted, ii, . cuellar, cristobal de, royal accountant, i, . cushing, caleb, minister to spain, iii, . custom house, first at havana, i, . dady, michael j., & co., contract dispute, iv, . davila, pedrarias, i, . davis, jefferson, declines to join lopez, iii, . del casal, julian, sketch and portrait, iv, . del cueta, josé a., president of supreme court, portrait, iv, . delgado, moru, liberal leader, iv, . del monte, domingo, sketch, portrait, and work, ii, . del monte, ricardo, sketch and portrait, iv, . demobilization of cuban army, iv, . desvernine, pablo, secretary of finance, iv, . diaz, bernal, at sancti spiritus, i, ; in mexico, . diaz, manuel, i, . diaz, manuel luciano, secretary of public works, iv, . diaz, modeste, iii, . divino, sr., secretary of justice, iv, . dockyard at havana, established, ii, . dolz, eduardo, in autonomist cabinet, iv, . dominguez, fermin v., assistant secretary of foreign affairs, iv, . dorst, j. h., mission to pinar del rio, iv, . "dragado" deal, iv, . drake, sir francis, menaces havana, i, ; in hispaniola, ; leaves havana unassailed, ; departs for virginia, . duany, joaquin castillo, in cuban junta, iv, ; assistant secretary of treasury, ; filibuster, . dubois, carlos, assistant secretary of interior, iv, . duero, andres de, i, , . dulce y garay, domingo, governor, iii, , ; decree of confiscation, ; recalled, . dupuy de lome, sr., spanish minister at washington, iv, ; writes offensive letter, ; recalled, . duque, sr., secretary of sanitation and charity, iv, . durango, bishop, i, . dutch hostilities, i, , ; activities in west indies, et seq. earthquakes, in , i, ; ii, . echeverria, esteban b., superintendent of schools, iv, . echeverria, josé, bishop, ii, . echeverria, josé antonio, iii, . echeverria, juan maria, governor, ii, . education, backward state of, ii, ; progress under american occupation, iv, ; a. e. frye, superintendent, ; reorganization of system, ; harvard university's entertainment of teachers, ; achievements under president menocal, . elections: for municipal officers under american occupation, iv, ; law for regulation of, ; result, ; for constitutional convention, ; for general officers, ; result, ; presidential, , ; new law, ; local elections under second intervention, ; presidential, ; for congress in , ; presidential, , ; presidential, , disputed, , result confirmed, . enciso, martin f. de, first spanish writer about america, i, . epidemics: putrid fever, , i, ; vaccination introduced, ii, ; small pox and yellow fever, iii, ; at santiago, iv, ; gen. wood applies dr. finlay's theory of yellow fever, ; success, ; malaria, . escudero, antonio, de, ii, . espada, juan josé diaz, portrait, facing ii, . espagnola. see <sc>hispaniola</sc>. espeleta, joaquin de, governor, ii, . espinosa, alonzo de campos, governor, i, . espoleto, josé de, governor, ii, . estenoz, negro insurgent, iv, . estevez, luis, secretary of justice, iv, ; vice-president, . evangelista. see <sc>isle of pines</sc>. everett, edward, policy toward cuba, iii, . "ever faithful isle," ii, , . exquemeling, alexander, author and pirate, i, . "family pact," of bourbons, effect upon cuba, ii, . felin, antonio, bishop, ii, . fels, cornelius, defeated by spanish, i, . ferdinand, king, policy toward cuba, i, ; esteem for velasquez, . ferdinandina, columbus's landing place, i, ; name for cuba, . ferrara, orestes, liberal leader, iv, ; revolutionist, ; deprecates factional strife, ; revolutionary conspirator in new york, ; warned by u. s. government, i, . ferrer, juan de, commander of la fuerza, i, . figueroa, vasco porcallo de, i, ; de soto's lieutenant, ; returns from florida in disgust, . figuerosa, rojas de, captures tortuga, i, . filarmonia, riot at ball, iii, . filibustering, proclamation of united states against, iii, ; after ten years' war, , in war of independence, iv, ; expeditions intercepted, ; many successful expeditions, ; warnings, . fine arts, ii, . finlay, carlos g., theory of yellow fever successfully applied under general wood, iv, ; portrait, facing, . fish, hamilton, u. s. secretary of state, prevents premature recognition of cuban republic, iii, ; protests against rodas's decree, ; on losses in ten years' war, ; seeks british support, ; states terms of proposed mediation, . fish market at havana, founder for pirate, ii, . fiske, john, historian, quoted, i, . flag, cuban, first raised, iii, ; replaces american, iv, ; picture, ; history and significance, . flores y aldama, rodrigo de, governor, i, . florida, attempted colonization by ponce de leon, i, ; de soto's expedition, . see <sc>menendez</sc>. fonseca, juan rodriguez de, bishop of seville, i, . fonts-sterling, ernesto, secretary of finance, iv, ; urges resistance to revolution, . fornaris, josé, iii, . forestry, attention paid by montalvo, i, ; efforts to check waste, ii, . foyo, sr., secretary of agriculture, commerce and labor, iv, . france, first foe of spanish in cuba, i, ; "family pact," ii, ; interest in cuban revolution, iii, . franquinay, pirate, at santiago, i, . french refugees, in cuba, ii, ; expelled, . french revolution, effects of, ii, . freyre y andrade, fernando, filibuster, iv, ; negotiations with pino guerra, . frye, alexis, superintendent of schools, iv, ; controversy with general wood, . fuerza, la: picture, facing i, ; building begun by de soto, i, ; scene of lady isabel's tragic vigil, , ; planned and built by sanchez, ; work by menendez, and ribera, ; slave labor sought, ; bad construction, ; montalvo's recommendations, ; luzan-arana quarrel, ; practical completion, ; decorated by cagigal, ii, . galvano, antony, historian, quoted, i, . galvez, bernardo, seeks cuban aid for pensacola, ii, ; governor, ; death, . galvez, josé maria, head of autonomist cabinet, iv, . garaondo, josé, i, . garay, francisco de, governor of jamaica, i, . garcia, calixto, portrait, facing iii, ; president of cuban republic, iii, ; joins war of independence, iv, ; his notable career, et seq.; joins with shafter at santiago, ; death, . garcia, carlos, revolutionist, iv, . garcia, esequiel, secretary of education, iv, . garcia, marcos, iv, . garcia, quintiliano, iii, . garvey, josé n. p., ii, . gastaneta, antonio, ii, . gelder, francisco, governor, i, . gener y rincon, miguel, secretary of justice, iv, . geraldini, felipe, i, . germany, malicious course of in , iv, ; cuba declares war against, ; property in cuba seized, ; aid to gomez, . gibson. hugh s., u. s. chargé d'affaires, assaulted, iv, . giron. garcia, governor, i, . godoy, captain, arrested at santiago, and put to death, i, . godoy, manuel, ii, . goicouria, domingo, sketch and portrait, iii, . gold, columbus's quest for, i, ; velasquez's search, ; the "spaniards' god," ; early mining, ; value of mines, . gomez, josé antonio, ii, . gomez, josé miguel, civil governor of santa clara, iv, ; aspires to presidency, , ; turns from conservative to liberal party, ; compact with zayas, ; starts revolution, ; elected president, ; becomes president, ; cabinet, ; sketch and portrait, ; acts of his administration, ; charged with corruption, ; conflict with veterans' association, ; quarrel with zayas, ; suppresses negro revolt, ; amnesty bill, ; national lottery, ; "dragado" deal, ; railroad deal, ; estimate of his administration, ; double treason in , ; defeated and captured, ; his orders for devastation, ; aided by germany, . gomez, juan gualberto, revolutionist, iv, ; captured and imprisoned, ; insurgent, . gomez, maximo, iii, ; succeeds gen. agramonte, ; makes treaty of zanjon with campos, ; in war of independence, iv, ; commander in chief, , ; portrait, facing ; plans great campaign of war, ; controversy with lacret, ; opposed to american invasion, ; appeals to cubans to accept american occupation, ; impeachment by national assembly ignored, ; influence during government of intervention, ; considered by constitutional convention, ; proposed for presidency, ; declines, . gonzalez, aurelia castillo de, author, sketch and portrait, iv, . gonzales, william e., u. s. minister to cuba, iv, ; watches gomez's insurrection, . gorgas, william c., work for sanitation, iv, . government of cuba: organized by velasquez, i, ; developed at santiago, ; radical changes made, ; revolution in political status of island, ; codification of ordinances, ; ordinances of , ; land tenure, ii, ; reforms by governor guemez, ; reorganization after british occupation, ; great reforms by torre, ; budget and tax reforms, ; authority of captain-general, iii, ; administrative and judicial functions, et seq.; military and naval command, ; attempted reforms, ; concessions after ten years' war, . governors of cuba, spanish, list of, iv, . govin, antonio, in autonomist cabinet, iv, ; sketch and portrait, . grammont, buccaneer, i, . gran caico, i, . grand turk island. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. grant, u. s., president of united states, iii, ; inclined to recognize cuban republic, ; prevented by his secretary of state, ; comments in messages, , . great britain, interest in cuban revolution, iii, ; protection sought by spain, ; declines cooperation with united states, ; requires return of fugitives, . great exuma. see <sc>ferdinandina</sc>. great inagua, i, . great war, cuba enters, iv, ; offers , troops, ; german intrigues and propaganda, ; attitude of roman catholic clergy, ; ships seized, ; cooperation with food commission, ; military activities, ; liberal subscriptions to loans, ; red cross work, ; señora menocal's inspiring leadership, . grijalva, juan de, i, ; expedition to mexico, ; names mexico new spain, ; unjustly recalled and discredited, . guajaba island, i, . guama, cimmarron chief, i, . guanabacoa founded, ii, . guanahani, columbus's landing place, i, . guanajes islands, source of slave trade, i, . guantanamo, columbus at, i, ; u. s. naval station, iv, . guardia, cristobal de la, secretary of justice, iv, . guazo, gregorio, de la vega, governor, i, ; stops tobacco war, ; warnings to great britain and france, ; military activity and efficiency, ii, . guemez y horcasitas, juan f., governor, ii, ; reforms, ; close of administration, . guerra, amador, revolutionist, iv, . guerra, benjamin, treasurer of junta, iv, . guerro, pino, starts insurrection, iv, , ; commander of cuban army, ; attempt to assassinate him, . guevara, francisco, iii, . guiteras, juan, physician and scientist, sketch and portrait, iv, . guiteras, pedro j., quoted, i, ; ii, ; ; . guzman, gonzalez de, mission from velasquez to king charles i, i, ; vindicates velasquez, ; governor of cuba, ; marries rich sister-in-law, ; litigation over estate, ; tremendous indictment by vadillo, ; appeals to king and council for indies, ; seeks to oppress natives, ; second time governor, ; makes more trouble, ; trouble with french privateers, . guzman, nuñez de, royal treasurer, i, ; death and fortune, . guzman, santos, spokesman of constitutionalists, iv, . hammock, of cuban origin, i, . hanebanilla, falls of, view, facing iii, . harponville, viscount gustave, quoted, ii, . harvard university, entertains cuban teachers, iv, . hatuey, cuban chief, leader against spaniards, i, ; death, . havana: founded by narvaez, i, ; de soto's home and capital, ; rise in importance, ; governor's permanent residence, ; inadequate defences, ; captured by sores, ; protected by mazariegos, ; sea wall proposed by osorio, ; fortified by menendez, ; "key of the new world," ; commercial metropolis of west indies, ; first hospital founded, ; san francisco church, picture, facing ; building in carreño's time, ; custom house, ; threatened by drake, ; preparations for defence, ; officially called "city," ; coat of arms, ; primitive conditions, ; first theatrical performance, ; capital of western district, ; great fire, ; attacked by pit hein, ; described by john chilton, ; first dockyard established, ii, ; attacked by british under admiral hosier, ; university founded, ; described by john campbell, ; british expedition against in , ; journal of siege, ; american troops engaged, ; surrender, ; terms, ; british occupation, ; great changes, ; description, ; view from cabanas, facing, ; reoccupied by spanish, ; hurricane, ; improvements in streets and buildings, ; view in old havana, facing ; street cleaning, and market, ; slaughter house removed, ; shopping, ; cafés, ; tacon's public works, ; view of old presidential palace, facing iii, ; view of the prado, facing iv, ; besieged in war of independence, ; view of bay and harbor, facing, ; old city wall, picture, ; view of old and new buildings, facing ; general ludlow's administration, ; police reorganized, ; view of university, facing ; view of the new capitol, facing ; view of the president's home, facing ; view of the academy of arts and crafts, facing ; new railroad terminal, . hay, john, epigram on revolutions, iv, hayti. see <sc>hispaniola</sc>. hein, pit, dutch raider, i, . henderson, john, on lopez's expedition, iii, . <i>herald</i>, new york, on cuban revolution, iii, . heredia, josé maria. ii, ; exiled, ; life and works, iii, ; portrait, facing . hernani, domingo, ii, . herrera, historian, on columbus's first landing, i, ; on hatuey, ; description of west indies, . herrera, geronimo bustamente de, i, . hevea, aurelio, secretary of interior, iv, . hispaniola, columbus at, i, ; revolution in, ii, ; ; effect upon cuba, . hobson, richmond p., exploit at santiago, iv, . holleben, dr. von, german ambassador at washington, intrigues of, iv, . home rule, proposed by spain, iv, ; adopted, . horses introduced into cuba, i, . hosier, admiral, attacks havana, i, ; ii, . hospital, first in havana, i, ; belen founded, ; san paula and san francisco, . "house of fear," governor's home, i, . humboldt, alexander von, on slavery, ii, ; on census, ; ; on slave trade, . hurricanes, ii, , , . hurtado, lopez, royal treasurer, i, ; has chaves removed, . ibarra, carlos, defeats dutch raiders, i, . incas, i, . independence, first conceived, ii, ; ; first revolts for, ; sentiment fostered by slave trade, ; proclaimed by aguero, iii, ; proclaimed by cespedes at yara, ; proposed by united states to spain, ; war of independence, iv, ; recognized by spain, . see <sc>war of independence</sc>. intellectual life of cuba, i, ; lack of productiveness in sixteenth century, ; cuban backwardness, ii, ; first important progress, ; great arising and splendid achievements, iii, . insurrections. see <sc>revolutions</sc>, and <sc>slavery</sc>. intervention, government of: first, established, iv, ; organized, ; cuban cabinet, ; saves island from famine, ; works of rehabilitation and reform, ; marriage law, ; concessions forbidden, ; census, ; civil governments of provinces, ; municipal elections ordered, ; electoral law ; final transactions, ; second government of intervention, ; c. e. magoon, governor, ; consulting board, ; elections held, , ; commission for revising laws, ; controversy over church property, . intervention sought by great britain and france, iii, ; by united states, iv, . iroquois, i, . irving, washington, on columbus's landing place, i, . isabella, columbus's landing place, i, . isabella, queen, portrait, i, . isidore of seville, quoted, i, . islas de arena, i, . isle of pines, i, ; recognized as part of cuba, ; status under platt amendment, iv, . italian settlers in cuba, i, . ivonnet, negro insurgent, iv, . jamaica, columbus at, i, . japan. see <sc>cipango</sc>. jaruco, founded, ii, . jefferson, thomas, on cuban annexation, ii, ; iii, . jeronimite order, made guardian of indians, i, ; becomes their oppressor, . jesuits, controversy over, ii, ; expulsion of, . jordan, thomas, joins cuban revolution, iii, . jorrin, josé silverio, portrait, facing iii, . jovellar, joachim, governor, iii, ; proclaims state of siege, ; resigns, . juana, columbus's first name for cuba, i, . juan luis keys, i, . judiciary, reforms in, ii, ; under navarro, ; under unzaga, ; under leonard wood, iv, . junta, cuban, in united states, iii, ; new york, iv, ; branches elsewhere, ; policy in enlisting men, . junta de fomento, ii, . juntas of the laborers, iii, . keppel, gen. see <sc>albemarle</sc>. key indians, i, ; expedition against, . "key of the new world and bulwark of the indies," i, . kindelan, sebastian de, ii, , . lacoste, perfecto, secretary of agriculture, industry and commerce, iv, . land tenure, ii, ; absentee landlords, . lanuza, gonzalez, secretary of justice, iv, ; portrait, . lares, amador de, i, . la salle, in cuba, i, . las casas, bartholomew, apostle to the indies, arrival in cuba, i, ; portrait, ; denounces narvaez, ; begins campaign against slavery, ; mission to spain, ; before ximenes, . las casas, luis de, governor, ii, ; portrait, ; death, . lasso de la vega, juan, bishop, ii, . lawton, gen. henry w., leads advance against spanish, iv, ; military governor of oriente, . lazear, camp, established, iv, . lazear, jesse w., hero and martyr in yellow fever campaign, iv, . ledesma, francisco rodriguez, governor, i, . lee, fitzhugh, consul general at havana, iv, ; reports on "concentration" policy of weyler, ; asks for warship to protect americans at havana, ; <i>maine</i> sent, ; commands troops at havana, . lee, robert edward, declines to join lopez, iii, . legrand, pedro, invades cuba, i, . leiva, lopez, secretary of government, iv, . lemus, jose morales, iii, . lendian, evelio rodriguez, educator, sketch and portrait, iv, . liberal party, iii, ; triumphant through revolution, iv, ; dissensions, ; conspiracy against election, . liberty loans, cuban subscriptions to, iv, . lighthouse service, under mario g. menocal, iv, . linares, tomas de, first rector of university of havana, ii, . lindsay, forbes, quoted, ii, . linschoten, jan h. van, historian, quoted, i, . liquor, intoxicating, prohibited in , ii, . literary periodicals: <i>el habanero</i>, iii, ; <i>el plantel</i>, ; <i>cuban review</i>, ; <i>havana review</i>, . literature, ii, ; early works, ; poets, ; great development of activity, iii, et seq. little inagua, i, . llorente, pedro, in constitutional convention, iv, , . lobera, juan de, commander of la fuerza, i, ; desperate defence against sores, . lolonois, pirate, i, . long island. see <sc>ferdinandina</sc>. lopez, narciso, sketch and portrait, iii, ; in venezuela, ; joins the spanish army, ; marries and settles in cuba, ; against the carlists in spain, ; friend of valdez, ; offices and honors, ; plans cuban revolution, ; betrayed and fugitive, ; consults jefferson davis and robert e. lee, ; first american expedition, ; members of the party, ; activity in southern states, ; expedition starts, ; proclamation to his men, ; lands at cardenas, ; lack of cuban support, ; reembarks, ; lands at key west, ; arrested and tried, ; second expedition organized, ; betrayed, ; third expedition, ; final expedition organized, ; lands in cuba, ; defeated and captured, ; death, ; results of his works, . lorenzo, gen., governor at santiago, ii, . lorraine, sir lambton, iii, . los rios, j. b. a. de, i, . lottery, national, established by josé miguel gomez, iv, . louisiana, franco-spanish contest over, ii, ; ulloa sent from cuba to take possession, ; o'reilly sent, ; uznaga sent, . louverture, toussaint, ii, . luaces, joaquin lorenzo, sketch and portrait, iii, . ludlow, gen. william, command and work at havana, iv, . lugo, pedro benitez de, governor, i, . luna y sarmiento, alvaro de, governor, i, . luz y caballero, josé de la, "father of the cuban revolution," iii, ; great work for patriotic education, ; portrait, frontispiece, vol iii. luzan, gabriel de, governor, i, ; controversy over la fuerza, ; feud with quiñones, ; unites with quiñones to resist drake, ; energetic action, ; tenure of office prolonged, ; end of term, . macaca, province of, i, . maceo, josé antonio, proclaims provisional government, iv, ; leader in war of independence, ; commands division of oriente, ; defeats campos, ; plans great campaign, ; invades pinar del rio, ; successful campaign, ; death, ; portrait, facing . maceo, josé, iv, ; marches through cuba, . machado, eduard, treason of, iii, . machete, used in battle, iv, . madison, james, on status of cuba, iii, . madriaga, juan ignacio, ii, . magoon, charles e., provisional governor, iv, ; his administration, ; promotes public works, ; takes census, ; election law, ; retires, . mahy, nicolas, governor, ii, . mail service established, ii, ; under american occupation, iv, . maine sent to havana, iv, ; destruction of, ; investigation, . maldonado, diego, i, . mandeville, sir john, i, . mangon, identified with mangi, i, . manners and customs, ii, et seq.; balls, ; shopping, ; relations of black and white races, ; cafés, ; early society, . monosca, juan saenz, bishop, i, . manrique, diego, governor, ii, . manzaneda y salines, severino de, governor, i, . manzanillo, declaration of independence issued, iii, . maraveo ponce de leon, gomez de, i, . marco polo, i, , . marcy, william l., policy toward cuba, iii, . mar de la nuestra señora, i, . mariguana. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. marin, sabas, succeeds campos in command, iv, . markham, sir clements, on columbus's first landing, i, . marmol, donato, iii, , . marquez, pedro menendez, i, . marriage law, reformed under american occupation, iv, ; controversy over, . marti, josé, portrait, frontispiece, vol iv; leader of war of independence, iv, ; his career, ; in new york, ; organizes junta, ; goes to cuba, ; death, ; his war manifesto, ; fulfilment of his ideals, . marti, josé, secretary of war, portrait, iv, . marti, the pirate, ii, . martinez campos. see campos. martinez, dionisio de la vega, governor, ii, ; inscription on la punta, . martinez, juan, i, . martyr, peter, i, . maso, bartolome, revolutionist, iv, ; rebukes spotorno, ; president of cuban republic, ; vice president of council, ; president of republic, ; candidate for vice president, ; seeks presidency, . mason, james m., u. s. minister to france, iii, . masse, e. m., describes slave trade, ii, ; rural life, ; on spanish policy toward cuba, ; social morals, . matanzas, founded, i, ; meaning of name, . maura, sr., proposes cuban reforms, iv, . mccullagh, john b., reorganizes havana police, iv, . mckinley, william, president of united states, message of on cuba, iv, ; declines european mediation, ; message for war, . maza, enrique, assaults hugh s. gibson, iv, . mazariegos, diego de, governor, i, ; a scandalous moralist, ; defences against privateering, ; takes charge of la fuerza, ; controversy with governor of florida, ; replaced by sandoval, . medina, fernando de, i, . mendez-capote, fernando, secretary of sanitation, portrait, iv, . mendieta, carlos, candidate for vice president, iv, ; rebels, . mendive, rafael maria de, iii, . mendoza, martin de, i, . menendez, pedro de aviles, i, ; commander of spanish fleet, ; clash with osorio, ; governor of cuba, ; dealing with increasing enemies, ; fortifies havana, ; recalled to spain, ; conflict with bishop castillo, . menocal, aniceto g., portrait, iv, . menocal, mario g., assistant secretary of war, iv, ; chief of police at havana, , ; in charge of lighthouse service, ; candidate for president, ; slandered by liberals, ; elected president, ; biography, ; portrait, facing ; view of birthplace, ; cabinet, ; opinion of cuba's needs, ; first message, ; conflict with congress, ; important reforms, ; suppresses rebellion, ; candidate for reelection, ; vigorous action against gomez's rebellion, ; declines american aid, ; escapes assassination, ; reelection confirmed, ; clemency to traitors, ; message on entering great war, ; fulfilment of marti's ideals, ; estimate of his administration, ; achievements for education, ; health, ; industry and commerce, ; finance, ; "from velasquez to menocal," . menocal, señora, leadership of cuban womanhood in red cross and other work, iv, ; portrait, facing . mercedes, maria de las, quoted, ii, ; on slave insurrection, . merchan, rafael, iii, ; patriotic works, . merlin, countess de. see <sc>mercedes</sc>. <i>merrimac</i>, sunk at santiago, iv, . mesa, hernando de, first bishop, i, . mestre, josé manuel, sketch and portrait, iii, . meza, sr., secretary of public instruction and arts, iv, . mexico, discovered and explored from cuba, i, ; designs upon cuba, ii, ; cuban expedition against, ; warned off by united states, iii, ; fall of maximilian, . milanes, josé jacinto, sketch, portrait and works, iii, . miles, gen. nelson a., prepares for invasion of cuba, iv, . miranda, francisco, ii, ; with bolivar, . miscegenation, ii, . molina, francisco, i, . monastic orders, i, . monroe doctrine, foreshadowed, ii, ; promulgated, . monroe, james, interest in cuba, ii, ; promulgates doctrine, ; portrait, . monserrate gate, havana, picture, ii, . montalvo, gabriel, governor, i, ; feud with rojas family, ; investigated and retired, ; pleads for naval protection for cuba, . montalvo, lorenzo, ii, . montalvo, rafael, secretary of public works, urges resistance to revolutionists, iv, . montanes, pedro garcia, i, . montano see <sc>velasquez</sc>, j. m. montes, garcia, secretary of treasury, iv, . montesino, antonio, i, . montiel, vasquez de, naval commander, i, . montoro, rafael, representative in cortes, iii, ; spokesman of autonomists, iv, ; in autonomist cabinet, ; candidate for vice president, ; attacked by liberals, ; biography, ; portrait, facing . morales case, iv, . morales. pedro de, commands at santiago, i, . morals, strangely mixed with piety and vice, ii, . morell, pedro augustino, bishop, ii, ; controversy with albemarle, ; exiled, ; death, . moreno, andres, secretary of foreign affairs, iv, . moret law, abolishing slavery, iii, . morgan, henry, plans raid on havana, i, ; later career, . morro castle, havana, picture, facing i, ; site of battery, ; tower built by mazariegos, ; fortified against drake, ; planned by antonelli, ; besieged by british, ii, . morro castle, santiago, built, i, ; picture, facing . mucaras, i, . muenster, geographer, i, . mugeres islands, i, . munive, andres de, i, . murgina y mena, a. m., i, . music, early concerts at havana, ii, . nabia, juan alfonso de, i, . nancy globe, i. . napoleon's designs upon cuba, ii, . naranjo, probable landing place of columbus, i, . narvaez, panfilo de, portrait, i, ; arrival in cuba, ; campaign against natives, ; explores the island, ; errand to spain, ; sent to mexico to oppose cortez, ; secures appointment of councillors for life, . naval stations, u. s., in cuba, iv, . navarrete, quoted, i, , . navarro, diego jose, governor, ii, , . navy, spanish, in cuban waters, iii, , . negroes, imported as slaves, i, ; treatment of, ; slaves and free, increasing numbers of, . see <sc>slavery</sc>. new orleans, anti-spanish outbreak, iii, . new spain. see <sc>mexico</sc>. newspapers: <i>gazeta</i>, , ii, ; <i>papel periodico</i>, ; ; publications in paris, madrid and new york, ; el faro industrial, iii, ; diario de la marina, ; la verdad, ; la vos de cuba, ; la vos del siglo, ; la revolucion, ; el siglo, ; el laborante, . norsemen, american colonists, i, . nougaret, jean baptiste, quoted, ii, . nuñez, emilio, in cuban junta, iv, ; in war, ; civil governor of havana, ; head of veterans' association, ; secretary of agriculture, ; candidate for vice president, ; election confirmed, . nuñez, enrique, secretary of health and charities, iv, . ocampo, sebastian de, circumnavigates cuba, i, . o'donnell, george leopold, governor, ii, ; his wife's sordid intrigues, . oglethorpe, governor of georgia, hostile to spain, ii, , . o'hara, theodore, with lopez, iii, . ojeda, alonzo de, i, ; introduces christianity to cuba, . olid, christopher de, sent to mexico, i, . olney, richard. u. s. secretary of state, attitude toward war of independence, iv, . oquendo, antonio de, i, . orejon y gaston, francisco davila de, governor, i, , . o'reilly, alexandre, sent to occupy louisiana, ii, ; ruthless rule, . orellano, diego de, i, . ornofay, province of, i, . ortiz, bartholomew, alcalde mayor, i, ; retires, . osorio, garcia de sandoval, governor, i, ; conflict with menendez, , ; retired, ; tried, . osorio, sancho pardo, i, . ostend manifesto, iii, . ovando, alfonso de caceres, i, ; revises law system, . ovando, nicolas de, i, . palma, tomas estrada, head of cuban junta in new york, iv, ; provisional president of cuban republic, ; delegate at large, ; rejects anything short of independence, ; candidate for presidency, ; his career, ; elected president, ; arrival in cuba, ; portrait, facing ; receives transfer of government from general wood, ; cabinet, ; first message, ; prosperous administration, ; non-partisan at first, ; forced toward conservative party, ; reelected, ; refuses to believe insurrection impending, ; refuses to submit to blackmail, ; betrayed by congress, ; acts too late, ; seeks american aid, ; interview with w. h. taft, ; resigns presidency, ; estimate of character and work, ; death, . palma y romay, ramon, iii, . parra, antonio, scientist, ii, . parra, maso, revolutionist, iv, . parties, political, in cuba, iv, ; origin and characteristics of conservative and liberal, , . pasalodos, damaso, secretary to president, iv, pasamonte, miguel, intrigues against columbus, i, . paz, doña de, marries juan de avila, i, . paz, pedro de, i, . penalosa, diego de, governor, ii, . penalver. see <sc>penalosa</sc>. penalver, luis, bishop of new orleans, ii, . "peninsulars," iii, . pensacola, settlement of, i, ; seized by french, ; recovered by spanish, ii, ; defended by galvez, . pereda, gaspar luis, governor, i, . perez, diego, repels privateers, i, . perez, perico, revolutionist, iv, , , . perez de zambrana, luisa, sketch and portrait, iii, . personal liberty restricted, iii, . peru, good wishes for cuban revolution, iii, . philip ii, king, appreciation of cuba, i, . pieltain, candido, governor, iii, . pierce, franklin, president of united states, policy toward cuba, iii, . pina, severo, secretary of finance, iv, . pinar del rio, city founded, ii, ; maceo invades province, iv, ; war in, . pineyro, enrique, iii, ; sketch and portrait, . pinto, ramon, sketch and portrait, iii, . "pirates of america," i, . pizarro, francisco de, i, , . platt, orville h., senator, on relations of united states and cuba, iv, ; amendment to cuban constitution, ; amendment adopted, ; text of amendment, . pococke, sir george, expedition against havana, ii, . poey, felipe, sketch and portrait, iii, . point lucrecia, i, . polavieja, gen., governor, iii, . police, reorganized, ii, ; under american occupation, iv, ; police courts established, . polk, james k., president of the united states, policy toward cuba, iii, . polo y bernabe, spanish minister at washington, iv, . ponce de leon, in cuba, i, ; death, . ponce de leon, of new york, in cuban junta, iv, . pope, efforts to maintain peace, between united states and spain, iv, . porro, cornelio, treason of, iii, . port banes, i, . port nipe, i, . port nuevitas, i, . portuguese settlers, i, . portuondo, rafael, secretary for foreign affairs, iv, ; filibuster, . prado y portocasso, juan, governor, ii, ; neglect of duty, ; sentenced to degradation, . praga, francisco de, i, . presidency, first candidates for, iv, ; tomas estrada palma elected, ; josé miguel gomez aspires to, ; candidates in , ; palma's resignation, ; jose miguel gomez elected, ; fourth campaign, ; mario g. menocal elected, ; fifth campaign, ; general menocal reelected, . prim, gen., spanish revolutionist, iii, . printing, first press in cuba, ii, . privateers, french ravage cuba, i, ; havana and santiago attacked, ; havana looted, ; jacques sores, ; havana captured, ; santiago looted, ; french raids, , et seq. proctor, redfield, senator, investigates and reports on condition of cuba in war of independence, iv, . procurators, appointment of, i, . protectorate, tripartite, refused by united states, ii, ; iii, , . provincial governments organized, iv, , confusion in, . public works, promoted by general wood, iv, ; by magoon, . puerto grande. see <sc>guantanamo</sc>. puerto principe, i, , . punta, la, first fortification, i, ; strengthened against drake, ; fortress planned by antonelli, ; picture, iv, . punta lucrecia, i, . punta serafina, i, . queen's gardens, i, . quero, geronimo, i, . quesada, gonzalo de, secretary of cuban junta, iv, ; minister to united states, . quesada, manuel, sketch and portrait, iii, ; proclamation, ; death, . quezo, juan de, i, . quilez, j. m., civil governor of pinar del rio, iv, . quiñones, diego hernandez de, commander of fortifications at havana, i, ; feud with luzan, ; unites with luzan to resist drake, . quiñones, doña leonora de, i, . rabi, jesus, revolutionist, iv, , . railroads, first in cuba, ii, . raja, vicente, governor, i, . ramirez, alejandro, sketch and portrait, ii, . ramirez, miguel, bishop, partisan of guzman, i, ; political activities and greed, . ramos, gregorio, i, . ranzel, diego, i, . recio, r. lopez, civil governor of camaguey, iv, . recio, serafin, iii, . reciprocity, secured by roosevelt for cuba, iv, . "reconcentrados," mortality among, iv, . red cross, cuban activities, iv, . redroban, pedro de, i, . reed, walter, in yellow fever campaign, iv, . reformists, spanish, support blanco's autonomist policy, iv, . reggio, andreas, ii, . reno, george, in war of independence, iv, ; running blockade, ; portrait, ; services in great war, . renteria, pedro de, partner of las casas, i, ; opposes slavery, . repartimiento, i, . republic of cuba: proclaimed and organized, iii, ; first representative assembly, ; constitution of , ; first house of representatives, ; judiciary, ; legislation, ; army, ; fails to secure recognition, ; government reorganized, ; after treaty of zanjon, ; reorganized in war of independence, iv, ; maso chosen president, ; conventions of yara and najasa, ; constitution adopted, ; government reorganized, cisneros president, ; capital at las tunas, ; removes to cubitas, ; exercises functions of government, ; reorganized in , ; after spanish evacuation of island, ; disbanded, ; constitutional convention called, ; constitution completed, ; relations with united states, ; platt amendment, ; enters great war, . revolutions: rise of spirit, ii, ; in south america, ; "soles de bolivar," ; attempts to revolt, ; "black eagle," ; plans of lopez, iii, ; lopez's first invasion, ; aguero's insurrection, ; comments of new york <i>herald</i>, ; lopez's last expedition, ; results of his work, ; european interest, ; beginning of ten years' war. ; end of ten years' war, ; insurrection renewed, , ; war of independence, iv, ; sartorius brothers, ; end of war of independence, ; revolt against president palma, ; ultimatum, ; government overthrown, ; negro insurrection, ; conspiracy against president menocal, ; great treason of josé miguel gomez, ; gomez captured, ; warnings from united states government, ; revolutions denounced by united states, . revolutionary party, cuban, iv, , . rey, juan f. g., iii, . riano y gamboa, francisco, governor, i, . ribera, diego de, i, ; work on la fuerza, . ricafort, mariano, governor, ii, . ricla, conde de, governor, ii, ; retires, . rio de la luna, i, . rio de mares, i, . riva-martiz, i, . rivera, juan ruiz, filibuster, iv, ; succeeds maceo, . rivera, ruiz, secretary of agriculture, commerce and industry, iv, . roa, feud with villalobos, i, . rodas, caballero de, governor, iii, ; emancipation decree, . rodney, sir george, expedition to west indies, ii, . rodriguez, alejandro, suppresses revolt, iv, . rodriguez, laureano, in autonomist cabinet, iv, . rojas, alfonso de, i, . rojas, gomez de, banished, i, ; governor of la fuerza, ; rebuilds santiago, . rojas, hernando de, expedition to florida, i, . rojas, juan bautista de, royal treasurer, i, . rojas, juan de, aid to lady isabel de soto, i, ; commander at havana, . rojas, manuel de, governor, i, ; adopts policy of "cuba for the cubans," ; second governorship, ; dealings with indians, ; noble endeavors frustrated, ; resigns, ; the king's unique tribute to him, . roldan, francisco dominguez, secretary of public instruction, sketch and portrait, iv, . roldan, josé gonzalo, iii, . roloff, carlos, revolutionist, iv, ; secretary of war, ; filibuster, . romano key, i, . romay, tomas, introduces vaccination, ii, ; portrait, facing . roncali, federico, governor, ii, ; on spanish interests in cuba, . roosevelt, theodore, at san juan hill, iv, ; portrait, ; president of united states, on relations with cuba, ; estimate of general wood's work in cuba, ; fight with congress for cuban reciprocity, ; seeks to aid president palma against revolutionists, ; letter to quesada, . root, elihu, secretary of war, on cuban constitution, iv, ; on cuban relations with united states, ; explains platt amendment, . rowan, a. s., messenger to oriente, iv. . rubalcava, manuel justo, ii, . rubens, horatio, counsel of cuban junta, iv, . rubios, palacios, i, . ruiz, joaquin, spy, iv, ; death, . see <sc>aranguren</sc>. ruiz, juan fernandez, filibuster, iv, . rum cay. see <sc>conception</sc>. rural guards, organized by general wood, iv, ; efficiency of, . ruysch, geographer, i, . saavedra, juan esquiro, i, . sabinal key, i, . saco, josé antonio, pioneer of independence, ii, ; portrait, facing ; literary and patriotic work, iii, , . sagasta, praxedes, spanish premier, proposes cuban reforms, iv, ; resigns, . saint augustine, expedition against, i, . saint mery, m. de, search for tomb of columbus, i, . salamanca, juan de, governor, i, ; promotes industries, . salamanca y negrete, manuel, governor, iii, . salaries, some early, i, . salas, indalacio, iv, . salazar. see <sc>someruelos</sc>. salcedo, bishop, controversy with governor tejada, i, . sama point, i, . samana. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. sampson, william t., admiral, in spanish-american war, iv, ; at santiago, ; portrait, . sanchez, bartolome, makes plans for la fuerza, i, ; begins building, ; feud with mazariegos, . sanchez, bernabe, ii, . sancti spiritus, founded by velasquez, i, , . sandoval, garcia osorio, governor, i, . see <sc>osario</sc>. sanitation, undertaken by guemez, ii, ; vaccination introduced by dr. romay. ; bad conditions, iii, ; general wood at santiago, iv, ; achievements under president menocal, . sanguilly, julio, falls in leading revolution, iv, , . sanguilly, manuel, in constitutional convention, iv, . san lazaro watchtower, picture, i, ; fortified against drake, . san salvador. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. santa clara, conde de, governor, ii, , . santa crux del sur, i, . santa cruz, francisco, i, . santiago de cuba, columbus at, i, ; founded by velasquez, ; second capital of island, ; seat of gold refining, ; site of cathedral, ; condition in angulo's time, ; looted by privateers, ; fortified by menendez, ; raided and destroyed by french, ; rebuilt by gomez de rojas, ; capital of eastern district, ; morro castle built, ; captured by british, ; attacked by franquinay, ; attacked by admiral vernon, ii, ; literary activities, ; great improvements made, ; battles near in war of independence, iv, ; naval battle, ; general wood's administration, ; great work for sanitation, . santiago, battle of, iv, . santiago, sunset scene, facing iii, . santillan, diego, governor, i, . santo domingo see <sc>hispaniola</sc>. sanudo, luis, governor, i, . sarmiento. diego de, bishop, makes trouble, i, , . saunders, romulus m., sounds spain on purchase of cuba, iii, . sartorius, manuel and ricardo, revolutionists, iv, . savine, albert, on british designs on cuba, ii, . schley, winfield s., admiral, in spanish-american war, iv, ; portrait, ; at santiago, . schoener's globe, i, . schools, backward condition of, ii, , , . see <sc>education</sc>. shafter, w. r., general, leads american army into cuba, iv, . shipbuilding at havana, ii, , , , . sickles, daniel e., minister to spain, offers mediation, iii, . silva, manuel, secretary of interior, iv, . slave insurrection, ii, ; iii, , et seq. slavery, begun in repartimiento system, i, ; not sanctioned by king, ; slave trading begun, ; growth and regulation, ; oppressive policy of spain, ; the "assiento," ii, ; great growth of trade, ; gross abuses, ; described by masse, ; census of slaves, ; rise of emancipation movement, ; rights of slaves defined by king, ; african trade forbidden, ; negro census, ; early records of trade, ; humboldt on, ; statistics of trade, et seq.; domestic relations of slaves, ; dangers of system denounced, ; official complicity in illegal trade, ; slave insurrection, ; inhuman suppression by government, et seq.; emancipation by revolution of , ; united states urges spain to abolish slavery, ; rodas's decrees, ; moret law, . smith, caleb. publishes book on west indies, ii, . smuggling, ii, . "sociedad de amigos," ii, . "sociedad patriotica," ii, . "sociedad patriotica y economica," ii, . society of progress, ii, . solano, josé de, naval commander, ii, . "soles de bolivar," ii, ; attempts to suppress, . solorzano, juan del hoya, i, ; ii, . someruelos, marquis of, governor, ii, , . sores, jacques, french raider, ii, ; attacks havana, ; captures city, . soto, antonio de, i, . soto, diego de, i, , . soto, hernando de, governor and adelantado, i, ; portrait, ; arrival in cuba, ; tour of island, ; makes havana his home, ; chiefly interested in florida, ; sails for florida, ; his fate in mississippi, ; trouble with indians, . soto, lady isabel de, i, ; her vigil at la fuerza, ; death, . soto, luis de, i, . soulé, pierre, minister to spain, iii, ; indiscretions, ; ostend manifesto, . south sea company, ii, , . spain: fiscal policy toward cuba, i, ; wars with france, ; discriminations against cuba, , ; protests against south sea company, ii, ; course in american revolution, ; war with great britain, ; attitude toward america, ; peace with great britain, ; restrictive laws, ; policy under godoy, ; decline of power, ; seeks to pawn cuba to great britain for loan, ; protests to united states against lopez's expedition, iii, ; seeks british protection, ; refuses to sell cuba, ; revolution against bourbon dynasty, et seq.; rejects suggestion of american mediation in cuba, ; seeks american mediation, ; strives to placate cuba, iv, ; crisis over cuban affairs, ; attitude toward war of independence, ; considers autonomy, ; cabinet crisis of , ; proposes joint investigation of maine disaster, ; at war with united states, ; makes treaty of paris, relinquishing cuba, . spanish-american war: causes of, iv, ; declared, ; blockade of cuban coast, ; landing of american army in cuba, ; fighting near santiago, ; fort at el caney, picture, ; san juan hill, battle, ; san juan hill, picture of monument, ; naval battle of santiago, ; peace negotiations, ; "peace tree," picture, ; treaty of peace, . spanish literature in xvi century, i, . spotorno, juan bautista, seeks peace, rebuked by maso, iv, . steinhart, frank, american consul, advises president palma to ask for american aid, iv, ; correspondence with state department, . stock raising, early attention to, i, , ; development of, . stokes, w. e. d., aids war of independence, iv, . students, murder of by volunteers, iii, . suarez y romero, anselmo, iii, . sugar, industry begun under velasquez, i, , ; growth of industry, ; primitive methods, ii, ; growth, iii, ; great development under president menocal, iv, . "suma de geografia," of enciso, i, . sumana, diego de, i, . tacon, miguel, governor, ii, ; despotic fury, ; conflict with lorenzo, ; public works, ; fish market, ; melodramatic administration of justice, . taft, william h., secretary of war of united states, intervenes in revolution, iv, ; arrives at havana, ; negotiates with president palma and the revolutionists, ; portrait, ; conveys ultimatum of revolutionists to president palma, ; accepts president palma's resignation, ; pardons revolutionists, ; unfortunate policy, . tainan, antillan stock, i, . tamayo, diego, secretary of state, iv, ; secretary of government, . tamayo, rodrigo de, i, . tariff, after british occupation, ii, ; reduction, ; oppressive duties. iii, ; under american occupation, iv, . taxation, revolt against, ii, ; "reforms," ; oppressive burdens, iii, ; increase in ten years' war, ; evasion of, ; under american intervention, iv, . taylor, hannis, american minister at madrid, iv, . tejada, juan de, governor, i, ; great works for cuba, ; resigns, . teneza, dr. francisco, protomedico, i, . ten years' war, iii, et seq.; first battles, ; aid from united states, ; offers of american mediation, ; rejected, ; campaigns of destruction, ; losses reported, ; end in treaty of zanjon, ; losses, . terry, emilio, secretary of agriculture, iv, . theatres, first performance in cuba, i, ; first theatre built, ii, , . thrasher, j. s., on census, ii, . tines y fuertes, juan antonio, governor, ii, . tobacco, early use, i, ; culture promoted, ; monopoly, ; "tobacco war," ; effects of monopoly, ii, . tobar, nuñez, i, , . tolon, miguel de, iii, . toltecs, i, . tomayo, esteban, revolutionist, iv, . torquemada, garcia de, i, ; investigates luzan, . torre, marquis de la, governor, ii, ; work for havana, ; death, . torres ayala, laureano de, governor, i, ; reappointed, . torres, gaspar de, governor, i, ; conflict with rojas family, ; absconds, . torres, rodrigo de, naval commander, ii, . torriente, cosimo de la, secretary of government, iv, . toscanelli, i, . treaty of paris, iv, . tres palacios, felipe jose de, bishop, ii, . tribune, new york, describes revolutionary leaders, iii, . trinidad, founded by velasquez, i, , ; great fire, ii, . trocha, begun by campos, iv, ; weyler's, . troncoso, bernardo, governor, ii, . turnbull, david, british consul, ii, ; complicity in slave insurrection, . ubite, juan de, bishop, i, . ulloa, antonio de, sent to take possession of louisiana, ii, ; arbitrary conduct, . union constitutionalists, iii, . united states, early relations with cuba, ii, ; first suggestion of annexation, ; john quincy adams's policy, ; jefferson's policy, ; clay's policy, ; representations to colombia and mexico, ; buchanan's policy, ; monroe doctrine, ; consuls not admitted to cuba, ; van buren's policy, ; growth of commerce with cuba, iii, ; president taylor's proclamation against filibustering, ; course toward lopez, ; attitude toward cuban revolutionists, ; division of sentiment between north and south, ; policy of edward everett, ; overtures for purchase of cuba, ; end of civil war, ; new policy toward cuba, ; recognition denied to revolution, ; aid and sympathy given secretly, ; cuban appeals for recognition, ; recognition denied, ; protests against rodas's decrees, ; offers of mediation, ; rejected by spain, ; increasing interest and sympathy with revolutionists, ; warning to spanish government, ; effect of reciprocity upon cuba, ; attitude toward war of independence, iv, , ; congress favors recognition, ; tender of good offices, ; president cleveland's message of , ; appropriation for relief of victims of "concentration" policy, ; president mckinley's message of , ; sensation at destruction of <i>maine</i>, ; declaration of war against spain, ; treaty of paris, ; establishment of first government of intervention, ; relations with republic of cuba, ; protectorate to be retained, ; platt amendment, ; mischief-making intrigues, ; naval stations in cuba, ; reciprocity, ; second intervention, ; warning to josé miguel gomez, ; asks settlement of claims, ; chargé d'affaires assaulted, ; supervision of cuban legislation, ; warning to revolutionists, ; attitude toward gomez revolution, . university of havana, founded, ii, . unzaga, luis de, governor, ii, . urrutia, historian, quoted, i, . urrutia, sancho de, i, . utrecht, treaty of, i, ; begins new era, ii, . uznaga, luis de, sent to rule louisiana, ii, ; reforms, . vaca, cabeza de, i, . vadillo, juan, declines to investigate guzman, i, ; temporary governor, ; tremendous indictment of guzman, ; retires after good work, ; clash with bishop ramirez, . valdes, historian, quoted, ii, . valdes, gabriel de la conception, iii, . valdes, jeronimo, bishop, i, . valdes, pedro de, governor, i, , ; retires, . valdes, geronimo, governor, ii, . valdueza, marquis de, i, . valiente, josé pablo, ii, , . valiente, juan bautista, governor of santiago, ii, . vallizo, diego, i, . valmaseda, count, governor, proclamation against revolution, iii, , ; recalled for barbarities, . van buren, martin, on united states and cuba, ii, . vandeval, nicolas c., i, , . varela, felix, sketch and portrait, iii, ; works, . varnhagen, f. a. de, quoted, i, . varona, bernabe de, sketch and portrait, iii, . varona, josé enrique, secretary of treasury, iv, ; vice president, ; biography, ; portrait, facing . varona, pepe jerez, chief of secret service, iv, . vasquez, juan, i, . vedado, view in, iv, . vega, pedro guerra de la, i, ; asks fugitives to aid in defence against drake, . velasco, francisco de aguero, ii, . velasco, luis vicente, defender of morro against british, ii, ; signal valor, ; death, . velasquez, antonio, errand to spain, i, velasquez, bernardino, i, . velasquez, diego, first governor of cuba, i, ; portrait, ; colonizes cuba, ; hostilities with natives, , explores the island, ; marriage and bereavement, ; founds various towns, ; begins cuban commerce, ; organizes government, ; favored by king ferdinand, ; appointed adelantado, ; seeks to rule yucatan and mexico, ; recalls grijalva, ; quarrels with cortez, ; sends cortez to explore mexico, , ; seeks to intercept and recall cortez, ; sends narvaez to mexico, ; removed from office by diego columbus, ; restored by king, ; death and epitaph, ; posthumous arraignment by altamarino, ; convicted and condemned, . velasquez, juan montano, governor, i, . velez garcia, secretary of state, iv, . velez y herrera, ramon, iii, . venegas, francisco, governor, i, . vernon, edward, admiral, expedition to darien, ii ; invasion of cuba, . viamonte, bitrian, governor, i, . viana y hinojosa, diego de, governor, i, . victory loan, cuban subscriptions to, iv, . villa clara, founded, i, . villafana, attempts to assassinate cortez, i, . villafana, angelo de, governor of florida, controversy with mazariegos, i, . villalba y toledo, diego de, governor, i, . villalobos, governor, feud with roa, i, . villalon, josé ramon, in cuban junta, iv, ; secretary of public works, , . villalon park, scene in, iv, . villanueva, count de, ii, . villapando, bernardino de, bishop, i, . villarin, pedro alvarez de, governor, i, . villaverde, cirillo, iii, . villaverde, juan de, governor of santiago, i, . villegas, diaz de, secretary of treasury, iv, ; resigns, . villuendas, enrique, in constitutional convention, iv, ; secretary, . virginius, capture of, iii, ; butchery of officers and crew, et seq.; british intervention, ; list of passengers, ; diplomatic negotiations over, . vives, francisco, governor, ii, ; despotism, ; expedition against mexico, . viyuri, luis, ii, . volunteers, organized, iii, ; murder arango, ; have dulce recalled, ; cause murder of zenea, ; increased activities, ; murder of students, . war of independence, iv, i, ; circumstances of beginning, ; finances, ; republic of cuba proclaimed, ; attitude of cuban people, ; actual outbreak, ; martial law proclaimed, ; spanish forces in cuba, ; arrival and policy of martinez campos, ; gomez and maceo begin great campaign, ; spanish defeated, and reenforced, ; campaign of devastation, ; entire island involved, ; fall of campos, ; weyler in command, ; destruction by both sides, ; losses, ; entry of united states, ; attitude of cubans toward american intervention, ; end of war, . watling's island. see <sc>guanahani</sc>. wax, development of industry, ii, . webster, daniel, negotiations with spain, iii, . weyler y nicolau, valeriano, governor, iv, ; portrait, ; harsh decree, ; conquers pinar del rio. ; "concentration" policy, ; recalled, . wheeler, gen. joseph, at santiago, iv, , . white, col. g. w., with lopez, iii, . whitney, henry, messenger to gomez, iv, . williams, ramon o., united states consul at havana, iv, ; acts in behalf of americans in cuba, ; opposes sending <i>maine</i> to havana, . wittemeyer, major, reports on gomez revolution to washington government, iv, ; offers president menocal aid of united states, . wood, general leonard, at san juan hill, iv, ; military governor of santiago, ; his previous career, ; unique responsibility and power, ; dealing with pestilence, ; organizes rural guards, ; portrait, facing ; military governor of cuba, ; well received by cubans, ; estimate of <i>la lucha</i>, ; his cabinet, ; comments on his appointments, ; reorganization of school system, ; promotes public works, ; dady contract dispute, ; applies finlay's yellow fever theory with great success, ; reform of jurisprudence, ; organizes provincial governments, ; holds municipal elections, ; promulgates election law, ; calls constitutional convention, ; calls for general election, ; his comments on election, ; announces end of american occupation, ; surrenders government of cuba to cubans, ; president roosevelt's estimate of his work, ; view of one of his mountain roads, facing . woodford, stewart l., united states minister to spain, iv, ; presents ultimatum and departs, . xagua, gulf of, i, . ximenes, cardinal and regent, gives las casas hearing on cuba, i, . yanez, adolfo saenz, secretary of agriculture and public works, iv, . yellow fever, first invasion, ii, ; dr. finlay's theory applied by general wood, iv, ; disease eliminated from island, . yero, eduardo, secretary of public instruction, iv, . ynestrosa, juan de, i, . yniguez, bernardino, i, . yucatan, islands source of slave trade, i, ; explored by cordova, . yznaga, jose sanchez, iii, . zaldo, carlos, secretary of state, iv, . zambrana, ramon, iii, . zanjon, treaty of, iii, . zapata, peninsula of, visited by columbus, i, . zarraga, julian, filibuster, iv, . zayas, alfredo, secretary of constitutional convention, iv, ; compact with josé miguel gomez, ; spokesman of revolutionists against president palma, ; elected vice president, ; becomes vice president, ; sketch and portrait, ; quarrel with gomez, ; candidate for president, ; hints at revolution, . zayas, francisco, lieutenant governor, i, ; resigns, . zayas, francisco, in autonomist cabinet, iv, . zayas, juan b., killed in battle, iv, . zayas, lincoln de, in cuban junta, iv, ; superintendent of schools, . zenea, juan clemente, sketch and portrait, iii, ; murdered, ; his works, . zequiera y arango, manuel, ii, . zipangu. see <sc>cipanoo</sc>. zuazo, alfonso de, appointed second governor of cuba, i, ; dismissed by king, . [illustration: book cover] [illustration: map of south america] [illustration] the boy travellers in south america adventures of two youths in a journey through ecuador, peru, bolivia, brazil, paraguay, argentine republic, and chili with descriptions of patagonia and tierra del fuego, and voyages upon the amazon and la plata rivers by thomas w. knox author of "the young nimrods in north america" "the young nimrods around the world" "the boy travellers in the far east: adventures of two youths in a journey to japan and china--to siam and java--to ceylon and india--to egypt and the holy land--to central africa" "the voyage of the vivian" etc., etc. illustrated new york harper & brothers, franklin square by thomas w. knox. * * * * * the boy travellers in the far east. five volumes. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . each. the volumes sold separately. each volume complete in itself. i. adventures of two youths in a journey to japan and china. ii. adventures of two youths in a journey to siam and java. with descriptions of cochin china, cambodia, sumatra, and the malay archipelago. iii. adventures of two youths in a journey to ceylon and india. with descriptions of borneo, the philippine islands, and burmah. iv. adventures of two youths in a journey to egypt and palestine. v. adventures of two youths in a journey through africa. the boy travellers in south america. adventures of two youths in a journey through ecuador, peru, bolivia, brazil, paraguay, argentine republic, and chili; with descriptions of patagonia and tierra del fuego, and voyages upon the amazon and la plata rivers. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth. the voyage of the "vivian" to the north pole and beyond. adventures of two youths in the open polar sea. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . . hunting adventures on land and sea. two volumes. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . each. the volumes sold separately. each volume complete in itself. i. the young nimrods in north america. ii. the young nimrods around the world. * * * * * published by harper & brothers, new york. _any of the above volumes sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states or canada, on receipt of the price._ * * * * * copyright, , by harper & brothers.--_all rights reserved._ preface. the plan of this volume is almost identically that of "the boy travellers in the far east." frank bassett and fred bronson, with their accomplished mentor, doctor bronson, have traversed the length and breadth of the south american continent from the isthmus of panama to the strait of magellan. twice have they crossed the andes; they have descended the madeira and the amazon rivers; navigated the la plata and the paraguay; visited the principal cities of the continent, and studied the manners and customs of the many people whom they encountered on their way. for the information of their friends and schoolmates at home they recorded the results of their travels and observations, and it is the author's pleasure to tell the story of their journey. the characters of the story are fictitious, but the descriptions of everything coming under the observation of the boy travellers, or learned in their wanderings, are intended to be as nearly exact as possible. the author has not relied alone upon his personal knowledge of south america, but has drawn from the narratives of others who preceded or have followed him. it has been his earnest endeavor to present a realistic picture of south america; its lofty mountains, magnificent rivers, luxuriant forests, and fertile pampas, together with the many varieties of people that form its populations; their governments as we find them to-day, and an epitome of their history from ancient times. he earnestly hopes for the same kindly reception by press and public that was accorded to his volumes of a similar nature concerning asia and africa. many works of travel have been examined in the preparation of this book. some of these are mentioned in the narrative, but it has not been practicable to refer to all. the author acknowledges his great indebtedness to that prince of travellers, alexander von humboldt, whose graphic description was the first adequate picture of the south american continent ever presented to the world. he is specially indebted to the admirable work of the hon. e. george squier, upon "peru and the land of the incas," not alone for information about the country and people, but for several illustrations which have been kindly loaned for this volume. he is also under obligations to the following books: "the andes and the amazon," by professor james orton; "brazil and the brazilians," by j. c. fletcher and d. p. kidder; "life in brazil," by thomas ewbank; "fifteen thousand miles on the amazon," by brown and lidstone; "brazil, amazons, and coast," by h. h. smith; "wanderings in patagonia," by j. beerbohm; "across patagonia," by lady florence dixie; and, "the war between peru and chili," by clements r. markham. the reports of the surveys and explorations of the various proposed routes for an inter-oceanic canal have supplied important data, and the officers of the company engaged in cutting the panama canal have cheerfully answered the author's interrogatories concerning that enterprise. the publishers have kindly allowed the use of illustrations from their previous publications on south america, in addition to those specially prepared for this work, or obtained from mr. squier's "peru." as a consequence of their courtesy the author has been able to present a "copiously illustrated" book, which is always a delight to the youthful eye. t. w. k. new york, _july_, . contents chapter i. page from new york to the isthmus of panama.--incidents of the voyage.--old times and the present.--aspinwall.--a tropical city.--the teredo.--entrance of the panama canal. chapter ii. first day on the isthmus.--the panama canal.--history of the canal enterprise.--plans of balboa and others.--the various routes proposed.--strain's survey of darien.--visiting the works at panama. chapter iii. over the isthmus.--a profitable railway.--isthmus fever.-- tropical trees, flowers, and animals.--sights in panama.--the cathedral.--a stroll on the beach.--the paradise of conchologists. chapter iv. "the place of fish."--an excursion to old panama.--visiting a hermit.--drinking chichi.--ruins of the city.--morgan the buccaneer.--his history and exploits.--how he captured panama. chapter v. from panama to guayaquil.--vasco nunez de balboa.--his adventures and death.--scenes in guayaquil.--first experience with south american earthquakes. chapter vi. the paradise of earthquakes.--from guayaquil to quito.--a ride over the mountains.--all climates united in one.--the plains of ecuador.--chimborazo and cotopaxi. chapter vii. description of quito.--visit to the volcano of pichincha.--the deepest crater in the world.--route over the andes to the amazon.--return to the coast. chapter viii. from guayaquil to callao.--landing at paita.--the site of old callao.--arrival at lima.--sights of the peruvian capital.-- general description of the city and its inhabitants. chapter ix. equestrians and their costumes.--ladies of lima.--excursions among ruins.--pachacamac, a holy city.--the ancient peruvians.-- origin of the inca government. chapter x. railways over the andes.--from lima to mollendo, arequipa, and lake titicaca.--the chincha islands and the soda deserts.--up the andes by steam.--in a railway carriage fourteen thousand feet above the sea. chapter xi. puno and lake titicaca.--coca and its properties.--the llama and his kindred.--excursion to the sacred island of the incas. chapter xii. coati island and the ruins of tiahuanaco.--return to puno.-- cuzco, and the temples, palaces, and fortresses of the incas.-- plans for departure. chapter xiii. leaving puno.--crossing lake titicaca.--resources of bolivia.-- silver mining.--primitive lodgings.--beginning the journey to the eastward. chapter xiv. over the eastern andes into the amazon valley.--an exciting journey.--adventures by the way.--troubles of travelling with a tiger. chapter xv. down the river.--arrival on the beni.--birds of the amazon valley.--building a hut.--hunting with poisoned arrows.-- turtles, and turtle-hunting. chapter xvi. down the beni.--products of the valley.--plans for developing commerce.--obstructions to navigation.--voyage on the mamorÉ. chapter xvii. hunting the tapir.--among the caripuna indians.--arrival at the falls of the madeira.--making india-rubber. chapter xviii. slow transit.--passing around the falls.--ancient inscriptions.--the madeira to the amazon.--the january river.--the amazon forest. chapter xix. from the madeira to the rio negro.--other tributaries of the amazon.--notes on the great river.--manaos.--down the amazon to para. chapter xx. para.--its business and characteristics.--the island of marajo.--down the coast.--pernambuco.--the sugar industry. chapter xxi. bahia and its industries.--rio janeiro.--the bay and the city.--sights of the capital.--emperor dom pedro ii. chapter xxii. the sights of rio.--public buildings, aqueduct, churches, miracles, and funerals.--visit to tijuca and petropolis.--the serra. chapter xxiii. railways in brazil.--coffee plantations.--mandioca and its culture.--terrible famines.--slavery and emancipation. chapter xxiv. return to the capital.--intrudo sports.--museum at rio.-- montevideo and buenos ayres.--the argentine republic.-- ascending the river plate. chapter xxv. visiting a cattle estate.--the lasso and bolas.--ascending the paraguay and parana rivers.--rosario and asuncion.-- paraguayan war.--industries of the country.--matÉ. chapter xxvi. return to buenos ayres.--dividing the party.--two routes to valparaiso.--frank's journey over the pampas.--mendoza.--at the foot of the andes. chapter xxvii. incidents of a ride over the andes.--contract with the arriero.--passes between chili and the argentine republic.-- night scenes.--dangers of the road.--a perilous position.-- uspallata.--at the crest of the andes. chapter xxviii. down the western slope of the andes.--a long imprisonment in the snow.--"the soldier's leap."--santa rosa.--santiago.-- arrival at valparaiso. chapter xxix. strait of magellan.--falkland islands.--a penguin city.--sandy point.--hunting the ostrich and guanaco.--patagonian giants. chapter xxx. mutiny at sandy point.--tierra del fuego.--missionary enterprises there.--captain gardiner.--cruise of the "wateree."--side-wheel ducks.--up the pacific coast.--the meeting at valparaiso.--the end. illustrations. at the foot of the andes _frontispiece._ on the sea again the fog clearing away sandy hook light-ship a stranded ship weighing baggage the shipworm and his work the donkey's descent the wharf at aspinwall departure for panama native market, aspinwall preparing for a boat excursion balboa taking possession of the pacific the isthmus of darien rescue of the survivors of strain's expedition strain's arrival at the coast view on the chagres river beach near aspinwall in the rainy season a hand-car journey on the panama railway surveying under difficulties native village on the isthmus native idea of the locomotive the espiritu santo flower gatun station a tropical harbor map of the panama railway crossing the isthmus in a bongo bridge across the chagres river at barbacoas meeting a train the humming-bird at work the singing hummer the iguana a centipede a scorpion exhibiting a tarantula hills near the railway map showing how ocean routes are shortened by the panama canal basaltic cliff panama in the distance station at panama cathedral at panama ramparts, with old cannon water-carrier and native woman gate of the monks ruins of church of san domingo a remarkable archway ruined church view from the ramparts at panama on the northeastern beach watch-tower of san jerome a hermit at home making chichi bridge at old panama slaughter of priests by buccaneers pirates' rendezvous buccaneers embarking on an expedition morgan's reception at chagres morgan's men dining on leather death of the indian chief moving through the forest capture of old panama by morgan. (fac-simile of an old print) the lucky arrow bay of panama, from the southeastern rampart coast scene below panama cave near limon river vasco nunez de balboa balboa carried on shipboard balboa makes his appearance village on a river of darien balboa and the indian princess quarrel for the gold marching through the forest discovery of the pacific cutting timber for the ships death of balboa cathedral of guayaquil street scene and ruins in the land of the earthquake the central part of ecuador las bodegas, guayas river a house in the tropics cacao arriero and traveller in holiday costume a pack-train under way a mountain cascade baron von humboldt in native huts near guaranda among the lava beds view of cotopaxi view of quito and the volcano of pichincha inca gateway and fortress in the andes crossing the mountains a street in quito palacio de gobierno (government house), quito water-carriers priests and monks laundresses of quito balcony view of the andes the crater of pichincha el altar, volcano, ecuador view of ibarra, ecuador napo indian porter descending the napo mountain pass in the andes rapids in a mountain stream of south america water-carrier and donkeys desert scene a wolf emigrating ships in a fog a garden on the rimac a claimant for the sidewalk view of lima from the steps of the cathedral lima and the surrounding country wearing the "saya y manto" a lady of lima interior court, lima bridge over the rimac, lima one use for chickens ladies of lima at home peruvian infantry and cavalry a passage of politeness a peruvian cavalier horse-breakers at work native women of lima ruins of pachacamac head of peruvian statue terraced space on a hill-top peruvian mummies sepulchral tower golden vase found in a tomb silver vase peruvian idol peruvian copper knives ruins on titicaca island part of temple of the sun, cuzco outer wall of fortress of cuzco stones in the wall of cuzco part of wall of fortress peruvian vases ornaments of peruvian walls ancient palace at huanco doorway cut through a single stone central figure over doorway deep cutting on a railway among the foot-hills guano islands sea-birds at home scene on a coolie ship on the edge of the desert indians of arequipa arequipa, and the volcano of misti the old way of travel view of lake titicaca the nevada de sorata, crown of the andes view on lake titicaca peruvian heads, ancient and modern cathedral of puno quichua woman (from a photograph) coca plant llama ancient gateway near puno the vicuna indians and llama among the ruins cattle feeding on rushes, lake titicaca tortora bridge over the outlet of lake titicaca head-dress of aymara women aymara men, puno aymara woman, puno a ride on a balsa, lake titicaca closed doorway, titicaca island palace of the inca bath of the inca room in the inca's palace the sacred rock of manco capac ground-plan of "palace of the inca," titicaca island bridge and custom-house at the frontier ruins on coati island indians celebrating the chuno, or potato festival head-dress of indian female dancers plan of part of ruins of tiahuanaco the american stonehenge front view of monolithic doorway symbolical slab terrace walls and scattered blocks of stone remains of palace at cuzco inca doorway, cuzco old bridge at cuzco court of convent, with ancient fountain church and convent of santo domingo, cuzco terra-cotta figures, cuzco ancient stone sculpture, cuzco section of walls of the fortress salient angle of fortress road leading to fortified hill ancient dwelling-house specimen of cyclopean wall ancient sun circle, sillustani, peru tanatero (ore-carrier) section of a silver mine a primitive mill arastra, with mule-power breaking ore indians extracting silver from ore galleries in a silver mine caving in wild indian of bolivia limited accommodations aymara skull turf house near lake titicaca chulpas, or burial-towers ancient sepulchre manuel loading the mules the start a mountain trail hacienda among the mountains travelling by silla dead whale on shore shot at a condor puma, cougar, or american lion capybara jaguar game for the jaguar steamer leaving para head of navigation a chance acquaintance a landing-place humming-birds of the andes humming-bird's nest pair of toucans and their nest tanagers and nest toucan parrots an amazonian dwelling near the village agave, or sisal hemp hunting with the blow-gun a giant of the forest turtle-shooting in south america turtle-turning south american river scene south american monkey with prehensile tail howling monkey a monkey robbing birds'-nests hunting the monkey amazonian mosquitoes at home an indian of northern bolivia breakfast scene on the river bank plaza and church at exaltacion mojos indians celebrating mass the cherimbita a mojos indian the agouti hunting the tapir water-snakes at home rattlesnake disturbed by a wildcat visiting the caripunas a caripuna indian a walk in the forest branch of the india-rubber tree india-rubber making on the madeira leaves, fruit, and flowers of the cow-tree milking the cow-tree dragging a boat around teotonio inscriptions on the rocks at ribeirao cuttings on stones near the rapids buried in the tropical forest banana in blossom rubber tree and parasites station of a rubber collector a river town pira-rucû, a fish of the amazon deposits in the amazon valley wasp-nest, showing interior construction leaves, nut, and flowers of sapucaya, an amazon tree ferns, trees, and creepers natives on the middle amazon in an igaripé fruit pedlers arrival at manaos giant fig-tree natives of the banks of the ucayali a brazilian landing-place the ant-eater asleep the mouths of the amazon para, from the river environs of para a tropical plant a dealer in monkeys street in para with silk-cotton trees nazareth square, para a para belle the market at para theatre of our lady of the peace the government palace at para sourré and salvaterra a snake merchant going ashore in a jaganda street scene in pernambuco pernambuco pack horses laden with sugar ox-cart view of bahia diamond-washing in brazil "star of the south" porters asleep brazilian humming-birds market scene, bahia porters and cask sedan chair frame of sedan entrance to the harbor of rio view of rio janeiro from the sea front view of the city coffee-carriers coal-carriers modern innovations pedlers of dry-goods poultry dealer fruit vender view in the bay of rio de janeiro an imperial palace statue of pedro i. scene in a brazilian suburb votive offerings in a church at rio view in the bay alms-box religious festival in front of a church monk in a procession the aqueduct a brazilian forest, with characteristic mammalia coffin closed coffin opened cemetry of the paula church view of rio from boa vista hotel at tijuca, near rio cascade at tijuca the armadillo road over the serra, near petropolis the palace at petropolis religious procession in brazil negro hut near the railway entrance to a coffee plantation victims of the famine dying for lack of food a tropical railway station mandioca plant plantation negro punishment in the fields slaves with collars slave with mask mask shackles household servant slaves gathering sugar-cane at home with the sugar-cane intrudo sports thirty years ago intrudo balls and bottles wooden cannon the condor and the bull embalmed head ancient musical instruments ancient comb brazilian basin montevideo from the sea view in the capital of uruguay ox-cart of buenos ayres soldiers of the argentine republic a guacho a guacho on horseback post-station on the pampas a steamer on the river plate a refuge from mosquitoes branding cattle on an estancia use of the lasso and bolas costumes of paraguay indians of the "gran chaco" battle with chaco indians indians of the lenqua, river plate indians shooting fishes a river port during the war headquarters of general lopez paraguayan mother and daughters a landed proprietor cups and tubes for maté paraguayan cart carlo antonio lopez, former president of paraguay olive branch from the banks of the parana map of chili, argentine confederation, and uruguay in the strait of magellan arrival of travellers at a guacho village a dance at san luis de la punta the police-office at mendoza the birlocha the pampa coach ox-carts near mendoza coming to town exercising the mules a start under disadvantages pass of uspallata near the base of the andes a dangerous road in the mountains peons at rest a mountain cañon snow-slide on the trail hanging bridge in the andes deep chasm in the mountains a victim of the storm a chilian ox-cart the condor travelling in the snow a natural highway cutting steps along the mountain bridge of the apurimac looking across the bridge by the roadside court-yard of the posada a pedler of forage the alameda a street scene customs guard-house, valparaiso spanish-american costumes seal of the falkland islands patagonia and tierra del fuego the penguin the home of the sea-birds the cormorant a steamer entering the strait of magellan chilian settlement at sandy point patagonian dress a patagonian belle the guanaco seeking safety the ostrich and his hunters skeleton of the ostrich captain smiley mountains and glaciers in magellan's strait jemmy button's sound fuegians visiting a war steamer the "allen gardiner" at banner cove starvation beach a fuegian and his food a fuegian feast ruins at port famine borgia bay inscriptions at borgia bay "h" cliff, wateree bay the yankee wood-dealer near the coast of patagonia map of south america, with route of the boy travellers _front cover._ physical map of south america _back cover._ the boy travellers in south america. chapter i. from new york to the isthmus of panama.--incidents of the voyage.--old times and the present.--aspinwall.--a tropical city.--the teredo.--entrance of the panama canal. "is everything ready?" "yes," was the reply. "the trunks are packed and strapped, and the carriage will be at the door at ten o'clock." "that is quite early enough. the steamer leaves the dock at noon, and we can easily be settled on board by eleven o'clock." "quite easily," was the response. "and here comes frank, who has been to see the porter about the heavy baggage." "it's all arranged," said the latter; "the baggage-wagon will take our trunks, chairs, and other heavy things, and have them ready at the pier, so that we shall have only our satchels and rugs for the carriage." "an excellent plan," was the reply; "and the next business before us is to go to breakfast." the conversation recorded above took place not many months ago in the corridor of the fifth avenue hotel, in new york. the parties to the dialogue were dr. bronson, his nephew, fred bronson, and frank bassett, a cousin of fred. some of our readers have met this trio of travellers, or, at all events, have read of their wanderings in asia and africa. when we last saw them they were on their homeward journey from zanzibar, after making the ascent of the nile, visiting the equatorial lakes of the dark continent, and reaching the indian ocean at bagamoya. those who have perused the narrative of the travels of frank and fred with the amiable doctor will need no further introduction.[ ] [ ] "the boy travellers in the far east." adventures of two youths in japan, china, siam, java, burmah, sumatra, the philippine islands, borneo, the malay archipelago, and central africa. five volumes. published by harper & brothers, new york. the doctor and his young friends had planned a journey to south america, and at the time our present story begins they were just starting on their new adventure. with their experience in former travels they realized the wisdom of going to the steamer in ample season to take everything leisurely, and be comfortably settled before the hour of departure. [illustration: on the sea again.] promptly at the advertised time the steamer left the dock, followed by the cheers of the crowd that had come to witness her departure or say farewell to friends on board. as she moved slowly into the river there were dozens of handkerchiefs fluttering over her rail, and other dozens waving answer from the shore. steadily the distance between ship and pier increased, and it soon became impossible to distinguish friends from one to the other, even with the aid of glasses. with her engines at half speed the great vessel moved majestically down the channel, passed the narrows, and entered the lower bay. a fog blowing in from seaward compelled the pilot to order the anchor dropped, and the chain rattled through the hawse-hole with a vehemence that seemed to threaten the safety of the steamer's bows. [illustration: the fog clearing away.] for two hours the fog continued; then it lifted, and the way to the ocean was revealed. up came the anchor, round went the ponderous screw, the outer bar was passed, the pilot, his pocket filled with letters, the last messages to friends on shore, descended to his boat and was safely deposited on the light-ship at sandy hook, and then the steamer took her course for more southern waters. [illustration: sandy hook light-ship.] the flag of the pacific mail steamship company fluttered at the main-truck, and it needed little observation to show that the craft on which our friends had embarked belonged to that famous organization. when the project for visiting south america was first discussed, the doctor told his young friends that their best plan would be to proceed from new york to aspinwall by one of the pacific mail steamers. "we will then," said he, "have the whole of the continent before us; we can go down the western coast to any point we choose to visit, or we can travel along the northern and eastern coast, and make our way westward by one of the overland routes, or through the strait of magellan. we can ascend the amazon, or descend it, or we may cross the andes in the vicinity of santiago. we will leave our plans incomplete till we reach panama, and there be guided by circumstances." as our friends were by no means novices in ocean travel they speedily dropped into the ways of the ship and made acquaintance with the passengers and officers. the passengers were a polyglot collection, numbering some fifty or more, and including about a dozen nationalities. there were americans, on their way to california or central america; englishmen, with similar destinations, or bound for callao and valparaiso; frenchmen, who were interested in the work on the panama canal; peruvians, chilians, nicaraguans, and other natives of central and south america; germans, commercially engaged in the republics beyond the equator; besides, as fred expressed it in his note-book, "several districts to hear from." but in spite of their difference of nationality they were entirely harmonious, and the voyage proved a most agreeable one. "things are not now what they were before the overland railways were built," said one of the officers in conversation with frank; "in those days we carried three or four hundred passengers in the first cabin, and twice or three times as many in the steerage. now, the travel between the east and west goes by railway, and comparatively few persons make the sea trip between new york and san francisco. but it's as pleasant as it ever was, and if people would only think they could spare the additional time there would be more of them going by steamer than by rail. there's no more delightful voyage in the world than from panama to san francisco. you are in sight of the coast nearly all the way; the ocean is so calm that you might suppose yourself on an inland lake, except on rare occasions; and before you begin to be weary of the trip you are entering the golden gate, and making fast to the dock, at your journey's end." dr. bronson confirmed the assertion of this ancient mariner, as he had made the voyage to california in the manner described; "and we used to think," said he, "that we were getting along finely when we went from new york to san francisco in twenty-three days. now we can go in a week by the railway, and it is contrary to the american temperament to make the longer journey." frank and fred were agreeably disappointed in the expectation of a storm before reaching the caribbean sea. in looking up the accounts of previous travellers they had found an old couplet: "if the bermudas let you pass, you must beware of hatteras." they questioned the captain on the subject, and found that the poetical assertion was not without basis, as many a ship sailing on her course had encountered a gale in the neighborhood either of cape hatteras or the bermuda islands. "but in marine verses, as in every other sort," the captain continued, "you must allow for the poet's license, which often requires a very large margin to include it." [illustration: a stranded ship.] hatteras and "the vexed bermoothes" permitted them to pass without a semblance of a gale. they sighted one of the islands of the bahama group, and there was great excitement on board the steamer when it was discovered that a ship was stranded on the shore. fred and frank rushed below to tell the doctor, and that worthy ran on deck as soon as he could don his hat and coat. the captain scanned with his glass the unfortunate craft, and relieved the general anxiety with the information that she had sent a line to the land, and there was no danger to the lives of her people, whatever might be the risk to the property. "if anybody was in peril," said he, "i would do all i could to save him; but when it comes to a mere question of ship and cargo, none of us care to take any risk, or even go out of our course for a minute. it is a serious matter to stop a great steamer like this, and, besides, it is a peril to her passengers and crew. we will save life always, and the property of our own company, but when it comes to the ships of other people, who would, quite likely, refuse to pay anything for the service without a lawsuit, we mind our own business and keep on our way." the correctness of his reasoning was apparent to all the listeners, and before the day was over the stranded ship was well-nigh forgotten. [illustration: weighing baggage.] they passed the eastern end of cuba, and then steered between that island and jamaica. the sight of the palm-trees that fringed parts of the shores reminded the youths of their journeyings in ceylon and the malay archipelago, and increased their eagerness to be once more in tropical lands. in the caribbean sea they renewed their acquaintance with the flying-fishes, that darted from wave to wave, and were sometimes so numerous that hundreds of them could be seen at once. on the seventh day of the voyage the heavy baggage was brought from below and piled on deck, each piece being carefully weighed, and checked off on the purser's books. the doctor explained to the youths that each passenger was entitled to free transportation of one hundred pounds of baggage across the isthmus, but all above that amount was subject to an extra charge. at daybreak the next morning the steamer entered the harbor of aspinwall and made fast to her dock. the city was named in honor of william h. aspinwall, of new york, but the french persist in calling it colon, which was its appellation before the panama railway was thought of. it was a place of little consequence until the discovery of gold in california, in , called attention to the necessity for a route of speedy travel between the atlantic and pacific coasts of our continent. frank and fred were up early on the morning of their arrival at aspinwall, and as soon as the gang-plank was out they hurried on shore, accompanied by the doctor. tropical verdure greeted their eyes as they looked inland, and the open sheds and slightly built houses told very plainly that they had reached a region where frosts were unknown. the wharf where the steamer lay was more than a thousand feet in length, and, on inquiry, they learned that it was built on a coral reef, which formed an excellent foundation. "you observe," said dr. bronson, "that the piles resting in the water are covered with copper, to resist the teredo, a tropical worm which is very destructive to wood. perhaps you would like to know something about him. [illustration: the shipworm and his work.] "well," the doctor continued, "the teredo is better known as the ship-worm, a name he has obtained from his habits of attacking the timber of ships in tropical countries, and also in the warmer parts of the temperate zones. he is a long worm with a boring head; imagine an auger endowed with life, and you have a very good idea of what the teredo is. he enters the wood when young, and keeps on boring all his life; he goes in the direction of the grain of the wood, and only turns aside for hard knots or for a fellow-worm, whose presence he seems to detect by the sound of his work. the teredo attacks wood immersed in salt water, and hence his destructiveness to ships and to the piles that support docks and other marine structures. the timber is perforated and riddled so much that it crumbles to pieces in the course of time, and not a very long time either. millions of dollars have been lost in consequence of the worm's performance, and not a few human lives. ships lying in tropical harbors have been ruined by the teredo, and the injury has remained unknown until the vessels went to sea and were lost in the first gale that blew. "but he has not been without his uses," said the doctor, with a smile. "it was the teredo that gave brunel his idea of a machine for tunnelling under the thames river, and since his time most of the machines for tunnelling in soft earth have been made on the teredo principle. the head of the worm has a series of cutting disks that eat away the wood; brunel made a gigantic worm with windows in front, and each window was occupied by a man who removed the earth before him and thus made way for the machine to be pushed forward. the progress of brunel's worm under the bed of the thames was exactly like that of the teredo in a piece of wood." [illustration: the donkey's descent.] the doctor delivered his improvised lecture amid the rattle of boxes that were sliding down the sloping gangway from the side of the steamer, as the process of unloading began almost immediately on her arrival. the lecture was suddenly terminated by the inattention of the audience, the antics of a donkey in a portable stall having caught their eyes. the animal did not relish the rapid descent along the gangway, as his progress easily averaged a mile a minute, and the momentum acquired in the slide carried him far out upon the wharf. he reared and plunged as he was going downwards, and in his struggles one of the upper slats of his cage was torn off. but at this point he became discreet, and carried his protests no further than to lift up his voice in its loudest tones. [illustration: the wharf at aspinwall.] threading their way through the mass of bales and boxes that covered the wharf, our friends were soon on solid earth at the end of the coral reef already mentioned. here the tropical forest was visible in all its luxuriance, and not very far away, as the city does not cover a large area, and the trees grow luxuriantly wherever they are not kept down by the hand of man. dr. bronson explained to the youths that aspinwall is built upon the island of manzanillo, which is about three miles long by a mile in width; the harbor was formerly known as navy bay, and is said to have been discovered by columbus on his third voyage. in spite of the commercial importance of the place, aspinwall contains little to interest the ordinary sight-seer. "you observe," said the doctor, "that everything is designed for use, and not for ornament; the buildings are of a practical character, and many of them are not even intended to be permanent. there are only a few hundred houses in the city, most of them of wood, and very loosely constructed. some of the buildings of the railway company are of iron or brick, partly as a precaution against fire, and partly to secure immunity from tropical insects and the rapid deterioration of wood in the damp climate of the isthmus. the canal company has followed the same plan in the construction of its shops and sheds, but as these structures will be of no further use when the canal is completed there is no attempt to make them ornamental. in the ordinary parlance of the tourist, aspinwall can be 'done' in half an hour." following the doctor's suggestion, they strolled along the street of hotels and shops near the head of the wharf, passed in front of the stone church, the first protestant edifice ever erected in new granada, gave a hasty glance at the iron buildings of the panama railway, and then returned to the steamer for breakfast. after that meal was concluded they went on shore again, arranged for temporary quarters in one of the hotels, and immediately transferred their baggage to it. as soon as they were settled at the hotel a carriage was ordered for a drive around the island by the "paseo coral," as the encircling road is termed. for much of the way the drive was through, or close upon, the tropical forest, and the youths were more than once reminded of their excursion in singapore, and the ride in ceylon from point de galle to colombo. on one side of the island there was a view of the ocean, while on the other the scene included the dense swamp and series of islands lying between them and the mainland, with an occasional glimpse of the mountains that form the dividing ridge between the atlantic and pacific. the doctor's scientific ardor was roused by the numerous shells with which the beach was strewn, and several times he stepped from the carriage to gather specimens for his cabinet of conchology. the youths looked longingly at the bananas and other fruits which grew in abundance, but they heeded the advice of their mentor, and abstained from indulging. aspinwall is not a healthy place at best, and the dangers of a stay there are greatly increased by an intimate acquaintance with the products of its gardens, when one has freshly arrived from a sea-voyage. [illustration: departure for panama.] on returning from their excursion our friends went to deliver letters to one of the officials connected with the canal company's works, but, not finding him, they went to the railway terminus to witness the departure of the train for panama. the passengers, mails, express matter, and "fast" freight had been loaded as expeditiously as possible into a train of eight or nine cars, and when all was ready the usual signals were given, and the locomotive moved off with its burden. one of the officers of the steamer had joined our friends, and explained that it was the custom of the company to despatch a special train on the arrival of a steamer, whether from europe or america, in addition to the regular trains that were sent each way daily. sometimes five or six trains were sent off in a single day, but such occurrences were unusual. "in the old times," he continued, "when this was the principal route of travel between new york and san francisco, the arrival of a steamer made a busy scene. several hundred passengers were to be transferred, together with a large amount of mail and express matter; the passengers were packed into the cars as closely as possible, and when there was an unusual rush it took two or perhaps three trains to carry them all. in such cases the steerage passengers were sent away ahead of the others, while the cabin passengers and mails followed an hour or two later. most of the passengers were encumbered with several articles of hand-baggage, together with oranges, bananas, and other fruits bought from the natives that swarmed around the station; you would have thought they were setting out for a journey of a week or more, and provisioning themselves accordingly, instead of a continuous ride of three or four hours over a railway. there was often a contest for places in the carriages, and many an impromptu fight has occurred on the spot where we are so peacefully standing." soon after the departure of the train dr. bronson and the youths returned to the hotel, where they found the official from the canal company awaiting them. he was accompanied by mr. colné, the secretary of the american committee of the company, and after the formalities of introduction were completed the party set out for the atlantic entrance to the promised waterway from the caribbean sea to the bay of panama. the entrance to the canal is on the mainland, just behind the island on which aspinwall is situated. the island has been enlarged in this direction, and, when the great ditch is completed, aspinwall will be its atlantic terminus in much the same way that suez is the red sea terminus of the suez canal. our friends were surprised at the magnitude of the works of the canal company, as they walked through the miniature city which has sprung up since the work of cutting the waterway was undertaken. there were acres and acres of warehouses and workshops, dwellings for the laborers, and residences of the officers, together with other edifices connected with the enormous enterprise. there was a scene of activity around the machine-shops, where engines and dredges were undergoing repairs, and it was difficult to believe that all this life had been infused into the tropical languor of the isthmus in the past few years. [illustration: native market, aspinwall.] mr. colné told the strangers that the new town had received the name of christopher columbus, in honor of the great navigator, who was believed to have visited the spot on his third voyage, at the time he discovered the bay in which aspinwall is situated. "and here," said he, as they reached a row of neat cottages, "is the street called charles de lesseps; these houses were made in new york and then brought here and put together, and we have houses at other places of the same character. most of our dredges were made in the united states, and an american company has taken the contract for a large part of our excavating. part of the land on which the city is built was reclaimed from the bay by filling in with the earth dredged out for the canal and its approaches. before we get through with the work we shall have changed the appearance of this part of the coast so that its friends will hardly know it. "when we came here," he continued, "one of the first things we determined upon was the deepening of the harbor of aspinwall up to the point where the canal is entered. as soon as the dredges were ready they went to work and made a channel that permits the largest ships to come up to the shore. we might have left it till the end of the enterprise, but it was better to have it done at the outset, as it facilitates the landing of our material." [illustration: preparing for a boat excursion.] at the suggestion of mr. colné the party entered a boat, and spent a half-hour or more in an excursion around the harbor. while they were being propelled by the strong arms of six negro boatmen from the west indies, their entertainer told them about the history of the canal enterprise. frank and fred listened eagerly to the narration, and the former made notes of its most important points. with the aid of these memoranda we will endeavor to repeat the story. note.--this book was written and in the hands of the publishers previous to the burning of aspinwall by insurgents, in march, . chapter ii. first day on the isthmus.--the panama canal.--history of the canal enterprise.--plans of balboa and others.--the various routes proposed.--strain's survey of darien.--visiting the works at panama. "the idea of a waterway across the narrowest part of the american continent, or, rather, of the isthmus connecting north and south america," said dr. bronson, "is almost as old as the discovery of the new world." [illustration: balboa taking possession of the pacific.] "quite right," replied their host. "in , or twenty-one years after the discovery of america by columbus, vasco nunez de balboa, having taken possession of the pacific ocean, proposed making a passage through the rivers of darien, but his death shortly afterwards caused the project to be dropped. "ten years afterwards, or in , fernando cortez had conquered mexico, and proposed a waterway through the isthmus of tehuantepec. he employed gonzalo sandoval to make a very careful survey of the route, and continued to urge his proposition after the emperor charles v. had removed the government of mexico from his control. but the emperor was not favorably impressed with the scheme, which contemplated the expenditure of a vast amount of money, and, besides, he was more interested in obtaining a revenue from mexico than in doing exactly the reverse. the proposal of cortez was rejected as emphatically as was that of balboa, but it is a remarkable circumstance that these two routes are the northern and southern extremes of the lines proposed for inter-oceanic canals. "by reference to a book by a celebrated portuguese navigator of the sixteenth century, antonio galvao, it appears that, up to the year , four routes had been discovered and examined, though none of them had been surveyed with care. galvao states in his book that a maritime canal can be cut in four different places: first, between the gulf of uraba and the gulf of san juan; second, through the isthmus of panama; third, along the san juan river, and through lake nicaragua; and, fourth, through the mexican isthmus. several explorers were sent to examine these routes, but they encountered many difficulties, and none of them brought back any exact information. so, you perceive, the principal routes for an inter-oceanic canal were known to the geographical world three hundred years ago." [illustration: map.] there was a pause to enable frank and fred to examine the map which was spread before them, showing the routes which mr. colné had mentioned. when the examination was completed their entertainer continued: "very little attention was given to the subject for about two hundred years from the time i have mentioned. in the latter part of the eighteenth century the idea was revived again; england thought it would be of great value to her if she could obtain control of a passage from ocean to ocean, and in she sent an expedition against nicaragua in order to obtain possession of the country. the enterprise was unsuccessful, and the commander, lord nelson, narrowly escaped with his life. "in and ' surveys were made of the panama and nicaragua routes, the former by order of king charles iii. of spain, and the latter by antonio de bucareli, viceroy of mexico. these were the first technical surveys of the routes, all previous examinations having been made without the aid of engineering instruments, and unaccompanied by calculations as to the amount of earth to be removed, and the probable cost of the work. "in , alexander von humboldt and admiral fitzroy, the former having made a personal examination of the darien route, declared in its favor. this route has had many adherents, and a large amount of money has been expended in its examination. i will not weary you with the names of all the explorers and engineers who have examined the various isthmus routes. the catalogue is a long one; many valuable lives have been sacrificed in this work, and the most of those who returned alive were able to present only unsatisfactory reports. the climate was fearfully unhealthy; the natives were either hostile to the enterprise or indifferent, and would rarely give assistance; and though the governments through whose territory the routes lay were generally well disposed, they could not always control their subjects." "probably the most thorough explorations," remarked dr. bronson, "were those ordered by the government of the united states in . several ships were fitted out, and the darien, nicaragua, tehuantepec, and panama routes were examined. commodore shufeldt went to the isthmus of tehuantepec; commanders hatfield and lull went to nicaragua, the latter visiting panama, to complete the exploration of that route. commander selfridge and lieutenant collins examined the darien route, and also some of the rivers entering the ocean a little farther to the north. the whole exploration occupied about three years, and the reports are very voluminous. they are more interesting to the engineer than to the general reader, and i did not bring them along as part of my baggage." "i have read," said fred, "about the expedition of lieutenant strain. please tell us what route he examined." [illustration: rescue of the survivors of strain's expedition.] "strain's expedition was to survey the darien route," replied the doctor. "it ended disastrously, as the party lost its way, and also its instruments and provisions, and wandered for many days in a dense forest where the men were obliged to cut their path at nearly every step. more than half the party perished in the wilderness, and lieutenant strain died soon after his return to the united states. [illustration: strain's arrival at the coast.] "the misfortunes of strain's expedition were due in great measure to information which proved to have been almost entirely false. an english engineer, named gisborne, had published a book containing a pretended survey of the country, which he claimed to have surveyed; in consequence of this report the governments of england, france, new granada, and the united states of america sent expeditions, all of which failed disastrously. strain's was the only one of the number that succeeded in crossing from ocean to ocean, the rest having turned back on account of the many unexpected difficulties, and the hostility of the indians, who attacked them repeatedly. it turned out that gisborne had never crossed the isthmus, and his map of the darien region was almost wholly imaginary. "several companies have been formed at different times," the doctor continued, "for the construction of a canal from the atlantic to the pacific, but the most of them have existed only on paper. the first of these companies was based on gisborne's imaginary surveys, and was organized in england, with a capital of seventy-five million dollars. sir charles fox and other heavy capitalists were the promoters of this company, and they confidently expected to complete their work before the year . the preliminary operations showed that the canal, if built at all, would cost several times that amount, and the enterprise was abandoned. "concessions have also been granted on other routes, but no serious work has been performed; the concessions were limited in the time of commencing and completing the work, and one after another the limit of time expired without anything having been accomplished. the panama route is the only one on which there has been an attempt to make a canal; the government of the united states has made a treaty with nicaragua for the construction of a canal through that country, but, up to the present time, the scheme has not gone beyond the surveys and the reports of the engineers." "we are confident," said mr. colné, with a smile, "that our canal from aspinwall to panama will be completed, and that large ships will pass through it before the st of january, . indeed, some of our engineers promise it for the new year of . thus far the work has progressed quite as fast as we expected at the outset, and if no unforeseen difficulties arise, we shall have the canal completed before ." one of the youths asked how much the canal was likely to cost, and how it would compare with the suez canal, which they had visited on their return from the far east. "not to trouble you with details," replied the doctor, "the estimate of the cost was originally six hundred millions of francs, or one hundred and twenty millions of dollars. very few enterprises come within the original estimates, and it is probable that not less than thirty millions of dollars, and perhaps another hundred millions, must be added to these figures, and some engineers say three hundred millions will be required. the cost of the suez canal was about one hundred millions, and the work at suez was very light compared with that at panama." "i remember," said fred, "that the suez canal is practically a great ditch through a sandy country, with no elevation of more than sixty feet, and but very little rock to be cut away. nearly half the length of the canal was made by filling up depressions in the desert, which were turned into lakes by allowing the water to run into them. is there anything of the kind here?" "not by any means," was the reply; "the panama canal is being cut through a region where the difficulties are enormous by comparison with those at suez. instead of a waste of sand, there is a tropical forest for the greater part of the way, and in place of the depressions which were converted into lakes to form part of the suez canal, we have a chain of hills which are nearly three hundred feet high at the lowest points. the summit level of the panama railway is two hundred and sixty-three feet above the level of tide-water on the atlantic coast, and the canal must have the enormous depth of three hundred feet, and at some points more than that." "that is quite correct," replied their host. "it will be the deepest canal cutting in the world when it is completed. on the section of culebra, in a distance of little more than a mile, we must remove twenty-five million cubic metres of earth and pile it up elsewhere. fortunately, our work is rendered easy in this respect, as there are many valleys close to the canal where the earth can be disposed of. do you know how much is represented by twenty-five million cubic metres?" fred made a calculation on a slip of paper, roughly converting metres into yards by adding one fifth. then he reduced the yards into cubic feet, and announced that, with the earth to be removed from the culebra section of the canal they could build a wall nine feet thick and twenty feet high for a distance of twenty-eight miles, and have a good many car-loads to spare. [illustration: view on the chagres river.] "this will give you an idea of the work to be performed here," replied mr. colné, "and you must remember that it is only one single section of the entire line. then, too, there are great difficulties in the way on account of the rains, and the sudden overflows of the chagres river, which crosses the line of the canal. instead of being a depression to be filled with water, it is liable to pour out at any moment much more water than we want." [illustration: beach near aspinwall.] "the average rainfall of this part of the isthmus," said dr. bronson, "according to the official reports, is over twelve feet. this is not distributed through the year, but is confined to about seven months. during a single rain-storm six and a half inches of water have fallen. "the consequence is that there are excessive floods in the rivers; the chagres river, which you see represented on the map as crossing the canal, is, in the dry season, a stream about two hundred and fifty feet wide and two feet deep. during a heavy flood it is fifteen hundred feet wide, and over forty feet deep, and it has been known to rise thirty or forty feet in a few hours. in these floods it brings down trees, rocks, and earth, and sometimes houses, and the sides of hills. in one freshet, an iron tank, that stood seventeen feet above the railway track, was washed away, and on several occasions considerable portions of the road have been destroyed." [illustration: in the rainy season.] "we get over that difficulty," said mr. colné, "by making a _barrage_, or dam, across the river, and between two hills, to retain the waters during the freshets, and let them out gradually by lateral sluices. the capacity of the reservoir formed by the dam will be much more than enough to hold all the water coming down in the greatest rise that has ever been known since the railway was completed, in . mr. de lesseps says that there are three reservoirs in the world of greater capacity than this: one is at st. etienne, france; one at la gillappe, belgium; and one at alicante, in spain. they have stood for three centuries, and are as good and strong as they ever were. science has improved since the great retaining walls of alicante were erected, and the dam of the chagres river will be perfectly safe, and do justice to the science which constructs it." by this time the boat had reached the line of the breakwater which was being constructed to protect the harbor from the strong "northers" that sometimes blow at aspinwall, and make anchorage unsafe. the earth dredged from the canal and from the shallow portions of the bay was partly used for forming the ground already mentioned, and partly for constructing the breakwater. for the latter purpose it was piled between walls of rock, and it was expected that the work would be completed long before the canal was ready for use. [illustration: a hand-car journey on the panama railway.] from the breakwater they were taken to the entrance of the channel opened by the dredges for the canal, and the location of the proposed new port was pointed out. then they proceeded up the great ditch for two or three miles, and landed where the canal and railway were close together. two hand-cars were standing on the track and evidently waiting for them. the gentleman to whom they had brought the letter was there, and also one of the officials of the railway. at the invitation of the latter, the party was soon distributed on the vehicles, three on one and three on the other. comfortably seated on the front of the hand-cars, which were propelled by natives in very scanty dress, our friends rolled easily over the level track, in the direction of the high ground, and also of panama. frank and fred thought they had never taken a more delightful ride. the air was delicious; there was the luxuriant vegetation of the tropics all around them; birds were abundant in the trees; monkeys occasionally chattered above them, or swung from the limbs, as if inviting the strangers to stop and visit their relatives; the speed was just enough for comfort; their vision was unimpeded, and there was no locomotive in front of them to poison the air with fumes of burning coal or shower them with cinders. then, too, their guide was a cyclopædia of knowledge, as he had been for a long time connected with the railway and was thoroughly conversant with its history. [illustration: surveying under difficulties.] "it was one of the most difficult roads to build that i ever heard of," said he, "and three times the work was suspended on account of the impossibility of getting enough laborers or bringing forward the necessary material. everything had to be brought from new york or some other american or european city, as there was no labor worth having to be found on the isthmus itself. between aspinwall and monkey hill the engineers had sometimes to wade up to their waists while laying out the line, and after the road was completed the track repeatedly sank down out of sight. it happened several times that two or three hundred feet of road would thus disappear in a single night, and then the whole force of the road was put to work to fill up the cavities. there are some places that were filled two or three times before the road-bed was solid enough to stay. since the canal company began operations here it has built some new tracks, and occasionally meets with the same trouble, but the old part of the line is all right now. [illustration: native village on the isthmus.] "there is a good story of how the natives of the country around gatun had their first view of a locomotive. the track was completed to that point, and a day was set for running an engine over it. people came for long distances; they had heard wonderful stories of the witchcraft of the strangers, and there was great curiosity to know about it. there was an immense crowd, and at the appointed time the locomotive came in sight, puffing vigorously, and emitting clouds of steam and smoke. there was great excitement, which reached the pitch of terror when the creature came into the midst of the crowd, and the whistle was blown. the whole crowd fled to the river, and many of them jumped in, expecting they would be pursued, and possibly devoured. [illustration: native idea of the locomotive.] "finding the monster did not follow them, they gathered courage and reassembled, but stood at a safe distance, ready to run again if necessary. they sent forward their priest to examine the animal; he surveyed it carefully, and then informed his followers that it was not an animal, but a machine, in which there was a veritable demon chained, and compelled to work the crank which propelled it. the explanation was sufficient; the good priest knew it was hopeless to attempt to enlighten them on the uses of steam, and found the demon story the shortest way out of the difficulty. it is just possible, though, that he was not versed in natural philosophy, and his explanation may have been the honest result of his observation." at several points, as they passed along, fred observed men cutting away the bushes by the roadside, and, in reply to a question, he learned that the growth of the tropical forest was so rapid that men were kept busy all along the route in keeping it down, so that it would not touch the passing trains. "but it is not without its advantages," said their informant; "what it costs to keep down the rapid vegetation is more than compensated by the interlacing of the roots through the road-bed so that it makes a powerful resistance to the water which rushes down the slopes after the heavy rains. many a serious injury to the road has been prevented by this mass of roots." their attention was called to flowers that grew in the forest, and the eyes of the youths were constantly occupied with the varieties of trees and plants that they passed in their ride. there were palms and mangroves, canes, ferns, orchids, and creeping, climbing, and hanging plants almost without number. there was hardly a tree without a parasite, and many trees were covered from the base to the topmost limb with foliage that was not their own. in some cases the trees were actually killed by the parasites that clung to them, and reminded our friends of the picture of a deer strangled by a serpent. [illustration: the espiritu santo flower.] fred asked for the famous product of the isthmus, a member of the orchid family, _peristera elata_, known as "flor del espiritu santo," or "flower of the holy spirit." it was pointed out to them, and, at the youth's request, they stopped long enough to gather a few specimens. the youths greatly admired the flower, and when they saw it neither of them wondered at its name nor the reverence with which it is regarded in central american countries. it has a white blossom resembling the tulip, and in the inside of the blossom is the figure of a dove. it needs no imagination to show the form of the bird; there it rests, with its wings drooping at its sides and its head bent forward so that the bill almost touches the breast; the body of the dove is of a snowy white, while the bill is tipped with red. the flower has a perfume resembling that of the magnolia, and it blooms in the latter part of the summer months. frank wanted to send home some of the plants, and was told that he could do so with ease, but the bulbs would not live unless they were procured in may or june, when the stalks had been sufficiently developed to produce the flower. it is said that the early spanish explorers of the isthmus bowed before this flower and worshipped it, and the reverence that was then developed has never been lost. down to quite recently it was very difficult to procure specimens of the espiritu santo flower, owing to this reverential feeling, and it is only since the colonization of the isthmus by americans that the stranger has been able to obtain all he wants. the flower is now cultivated in hot-houses, and has been transported to other tropical countries, where it is successfully grown. [illustration: gatun station.] fred called attention to several trees resembling some they had seen in java and ceylon, and frank picked out three or four varieties of mahogany which he could recognize. occasionally there was a clearing devoted to bananas and other fruits, and at gatun station, where the road was close to the bank of the chagres river, several natives offered the fruits for sale. the old village of gatun was on the opposite shore of the river, and consisted of a group of huts half concealed by the foliage. in the old days of california travel, before the construction of the railway, the inhabitants of gatun drove a prosperous trade with the gold-seekers; according to one writer, "eggs were sold for twenty-five cents apiece, and the ground-rent for a hammock was two dollars a night." an excavating machine was in operation not far from the railway, and huge mounds of earth had been thrown up on either side of the line of the canal. hundreds of laborers were at work, and the scene was, in many respects, a repetition of what they had encountered at aspinwall, or, rather, at the new city which has risen near it. "this is an american machine," said their guide, as he pointed to the excavator, "and it will interest you to know that the excavators and dredges from new york have proved more satisfactory than those of french construction. they are very effective, and rarely get out of order; the french machines were admirably adapted to the suez canal, but the soil here is much harder than that at suez, and requires a more powerful engine for its removal." from gatun the party returned to the canal entrance, and thence to their hotel in aspinwall. later they dined with their new friends, and when they retired for the night they felt that they had crowded a good deal of sight-seeing into their first day on the isthmus. [illustration: a tropical harbor.] chapter iii. over the isthmus.--a profitable railway.--isthmus fever.--tropical trees, flowers, and animals.--sights in panama.--the cathedral.--a stroll on the beach.--the paradise of conchologists. [illustration: map of the panama railway.] next morning our friends arranged to leave for panama by the regular train. just as they were about starting from the hotel they were met by the manager of the railway, who invited them to occupy the directors' car, which was to be drawn by a special locomotive, and would follow the train an hour or more later. they accepted the invitation, sending their baggage by the train, with the assurance that it would be found at the station at panama on their arrival. the directors' car afforded superior facilities for seeing the objects of interest along the route, and, besides, they were to be accompanied by the manager, and also by the official who had been of such practical assistance on the previous day. they were joined by some of the officials connected with the construction of the canal, and altogether the party was a most agreeable one. dr. bronson explained to the youths that when the canal company was organized it was deemed advisable to have command of the railway in order to facilitate the work. a controlling interest in the line was bought by the canal company, and it is fair to suppose that the owners of the shares received a good price for their property. "the panama railway has been the most profitable thing of the kind in the world," said the doctor, "or, at any rate, one of the most profitable i ever heard of. the managers have generally kept their affairs as much as possible to themselves, and would, doubtless, assure you that they had lost money by their investment, which is often the case with men who have a remunerative business of any kind. the local fare over the line between aspinwall and panama was established at twenty-five dollars, and remained at that figure for nearly twenty years. twenty-five dollars for a ride of forty-eight miles, or more than fifty cents a mile! thousands of passengers were carried over the road every month, and every thousand passengers meant twenty-five thousand dollars to the railway. at one time the steamships were carrying steerage passengers from new york to san francisco for eighty dollars, including the transit of the isthmus; the steamship company thus received fifty-five dollars for carrying a passenger five thousand five hundred miles, including his board and lodging for twenty-three days, while the railway company received almost half as much for carrying him forty-eight miles, lodging him four hours in rickety cars, and giving him no board whatever. [illustration: crossing the isthmus in .] "but bygones are bygones," continued the doctor, "and if any traveller disliked the price of the railway journey he had the privilege of going by the old route. this involved a tedious journey up the chagres river by bongoes or native boats as far as gorgona, and a ride thence over the hills and through the mud to panama. the riding was done on the backs of mules, as there was no wagon-road; travellers were often obliged to pass the night in the open air, as there were very scanty accommodations in the few villages along the road; a week or more was generally consumed in the trip; the prices of everything were exorbitant; and the tourist generally reached the end of his journey feeling very much as if he had been passed through a patent wringing-machine. not a few fell ill and died on the way, and many a fevered sufferer in california, years afterwards, could trace the beginning of his ills to his exposure on the isthmus. 'isthmus fever' became known almost as a distinct malady, and it was often very difficult of cure. it is pretty well forgotten now, thanks to the rapid transit afforded by the railway. under all the circumstances, the enterprising men who constructed this road deserve every cent they received from it; it has saved thousands of lives to the population of the united states and other countries, and has added materially to the commercial facilities of the world. it was built under many discouragements, and the energy displayed in its construction was worthy of a liberal reward." [illustration: a bongo.] they rolled merrily over the track and in a little while had passed gatun station, and the point they visited in their excursion to inspect the work on the canal. they wound among the low hills and along the bank of the chagres river, catching pretty views here and there, and passing several unimportant stations without stopping. one of the officials pointed out the cottage which was the favorite residence of mr. john l. stephens during his connection with the railway, and also a gigantic tree which has long been known as "stephens's tree." other objects of interest were indicated, and there was not an idle moment in the whole journey. [illustration: bridge across the chagres river at barbacoas.] the railway crosses the chagres river at barbacoas, where there is a fine bridge, which has withstood the shocks of that capricious stream in a manner that reflects creditably upon its builders. a little beyond barbacoas they met a train bound eastward, and waited a short time on a siding to enable the locomotive and its burden to get out of the way. the delay gave an opportunity for a brief excursion into the tropical forest, which came close up to the railway, as it does for the greater part of the distance between aspinwall and panama. [illustration: meeting a train.] frank and fred were accompanied by one of their new friends, who seemed to be well versed in the botany of the country. the first tree to meet their gaze was a palm, and while they were noting its peculiarities their guide told them there was no place in the world where so many varieties of the palm could be found together as on the isthmus. "there are," said he, "twenty-one different species of palm-trees; i am informed that three or four more have been found in the vicinity, but i have not seen them. from one of the well-known varieties is extracted the palm-oil of commerce; another produces a sweet sap from which the natives distil a wine they use freely as a beverage; there is the 'sugar palm,' from which sugar is made; the 'sago palm,' which produces sago, but of a quality inferior to that of the malay archipelago; the 'ivory palm,' which supplies vegetable ivory; the 'cabbage palm,' whose stalks resemble the cabbage in appearance and taste; and the 'glove palm,' from which bags for holding grain or kindred things are readily obtained. houses, weapons, domestic utensils, and many other things are made from the leaves, stalks, fruit, bark, or wood of the palm, and the tree is quite as necessary to the existence of the natives of the isthmus as is the bamboo to the inhabitants of tropical asia." [illustration: the singing hummer.] it was impossible to penetrate far into the forest, owing to the network of hanging and creeping plants that blocked the way, and the youths were not long in realizing the difficulties encountered by the surveyor who laid out the line of the railway. their guide described many of the vegetable growths that were visible, and the number was so great that frank was fairly bewildered with them. so he called attention to the birds darting among the thick foliage, and asked about the animal kingdom of the country. [illustration: the humming-bird at work.] "there are birds, beasts, reptiles, and insects here in great number," was the reply. "there are parrots of several kinds, some of which will learn to talk while others will not; there are toucans, with enormous beaks especially designed for the disposal of fruits; humming-birds of gorgeous hues and hardly bigger than bees; and there are orioles, trogons, tanagers, and other birds whose names are only known locally or in scientific works. there are wild turkeys and grouse among the hills; the latter are shy and not easily taken, and the hunter is always at a disadvantage on account of the thickness of the shrubbery; the tapir abounds in the low ground and marshes near the rivers, and his flesh is not unlike pork in taste and appearance. you have already seen monkeys, and if you could go into the forest a dozen miles from the settlements you might see hundreds of them in a single day. they go in large parties oftentimes, and whenever they make a raid on a banana plantation they destroy in a few hours the labor of a whole season. there is a tradition that in the old days the natives used to serve up monkey flesh to the california emigrants under the name of 'opossum.' the opossum is found here, but he is not easily taken, and a man from the states would have no hesitation in eating its flesh, though he might seriously object to dining on monkey. [illustration: the iguana.] "besides the animals i have mentioned," he continued, "we have the ant-eater, peccary, sloth, deer, cougar, bear, and tiger-cat; the peccary is also known as the 'wild hog,' and is closely allied to the tapir. there is a lizard called the _iguana_, which is sometimes five or six feet long, and is as delicious as lobster or chicken; its eggs are much prized by the natives, and frequently seen in the markets. americans who come here are generally chary of eating iguana, because it is a lizard; we have got over this difficulty by naming it 'panama lobster,' and thus silencing all objections. there's a great deal in a name." [illustration: a centipede.] the youths admitted the evident truth of the assertion. suddenly, frank espied almost under his feet a crab about the size of a half-grown chicken, and asked if it was a "panama beetle." [illustration: a scorpion.] "not exactly," replied their guide, with a smile. "it is a land-crab, which is very abundant on the isthmus, and considered an excellent article of food. it is rapacious, like the crab generally, and comes fearlessly into the presence of man in search of a breakfast. these crabs devour the flesh of animals, and will often reduce a horse or ox to a heap of polished bones in a few hours. it will be well for you to tread carefully on the ground in the vicinity, as you never know when you will encounter a scorpion, tarantula, or centipede, or even a venomous snake. occasionally we find large serpents of the constrictor species, but they are not as dangerous as the smaller reptiles and insects. the tarantula is a sort of hairy spider, quite pretty to look at, but so venomous that his bite causes death in a few hours. the natives have a belief that if a tarantula simply walks over the flesh without biting there is left a poisonous trail which causes rheumatic and other pains, lasting for years or perhaps for a lifetime. catch one of these spiders and show it to a group of natives, and they will run shrieking away from you." [illustration: exhibiting a tarantula.] the whistle of the locomotive put an end to the conversation, and recalled the young naturalists to the train. fred observed a native with one foot bandaged across the toes, and asked what was the matter with him. "probably jiggers," was the reply. "and please tell us what jiggers are?" "its native name is _chigoe_," answered their guide, "and this has been anglicized into 'jigger.' its scientific name is _pulex penetrans_; it is a species of flea which deposits its eggs in the human body, especially under the skin of the foot or the nails of the toes. its presence is indicated by a slight itching and subsequently by a membranous sac, like the head of a pin. this sac can be removed with a needle or by washing the feet with tobacco juice; if allowed to remain it causes an ulcer, and the victim will quite likely lose his toes. it is necessary to keep close watch to one's feet, and wash them frequently with strong soap or decoction of tobacco." [illustration: hills near the railway.] natural history gave place to more immediate matters as the train passed one of the points where excavations for the canal were going on. the scene was a repetition of that at gatun, and needs no special description, but it naturally led to further conversation upon the great enterprise which was intended to unite the atlantic and pacific oceans. fred asked how it happened that a canal through the isthmus connecting north and south america was being constructed by frenchmen and with french capital? [illustration: map showing how ocean routes are shortened by the panama canal.] "for the very simple reason," the doctor answered, "that americans were unwilling to risk their money in the work and the french were ready to do so. the final surveys were made by lieutenant bonaparte wyse of the french navy, and the expense was paid by french capitalists. m. de lesseps, whose name has become known throughout the world for his energy in making the suez canal, caused an international congress to be assembled at paris in ; this congress decided in favor of the present location, and for a canal without locks. under his leadership the company was formed, and the work is going on as you see it. "it is quite likely that diplomatic questions will arise concerning the use of the canal by the great nations of the globe; meantime, we need not disturb ourselves about it, but wait patiently for the day when ships will be able to pass from ocean to ocean. to understand the advantages to commerce which will result from the construction of the canal you have only to look at this map and observe the difference between the proposed routes for ships and those which are at present followed." the doctor unfolded a map which we give on page . while frank and fred were glancing at the routes marked upon it, dr. bronson read the following array of figures: miles. the distance from new york to sydney, australia, _via_ cape horn, , the distance from new york to sydney, australia, _via_ panama , ------ in favor of panama , the distance from new york to honolulu, sandwich isl., _via_ cape horn , the distance from new york to honolulu, sandwich isl., _via_ panama , ------ in favor of panama , the distance from new york to hong kong, _via_ cape horn , the distance from new york to hong kong, _via_ panama , ------ in favor of panama , the distance from new york to yokohama, japan, _via_ cape horn , the distance from new york to yokohama, japan, _via_ panama , ------ in favor of panama , the distance from england to sydney, australia, _via_ cape of good hope , the distance from england to sydney, australia, _via_ panama , ------ in favor of panama "between england and sydney they don't save much distance," fred remarked; "but on all the other routes there is a great difference in the figures. we will all hope for the speedy completion of the canal, and on the opening day we'll fling our hats in the air and cheer as loudly as possible in honor of ferdinand de lesseps." [illustration: basaltic cliff.] meantime the train had left the valley of the chagres river and was ascending among the hills towards the summit level, two hundred and sixty-eight feet above the ocean. many of the hills were sharply conical and showed that they were of volcanic origin; high embankments and heavy cuttings followed each other in rapid succession, and at one point the road wound round the side of a hill composed of basaltic crystals about twelve inches in diameter and eight or ten feet long. it was explained that this was one of the few instances in the world where basaltic columns were found in any but upright positions: at fingal's cave, in staffa, the giant's causeway, in ireland, and the palisades of the hudson they are upright, but on this hill of the panama isthmus they are in all sorts of positions, and indicate very clearly that there has been a great convulsion of nature since their formation. the _cerro de los bucaneros_, or "hill of the buccaneers," was pointed out. it receives the name from the fact that from its summit the buccaneer, morgan, had his first view of ancient panama in , and he encamped at the base of the hill on the night before his attack upon the city. [illustration: panama in the distance.] soon after passing this memorable hill the city of panama was visible in the distance. entering the railway station, they came to a halt, and in a few moments frank and fred were gazing on the waters breaking on the beach just outside the spacious building. a long pier jutted into the bay at the end of the station; a steamboat was being laden there with freight, intended for one of the large steamers grouped together two or three miles away. dr. bronson explained that the bay of panama is quite shallow for a long way out, and only boats of light draft can come close to shore. the canal company is dredging a channel from the deep parts of the bay up to the shore, which will form an approach to the mouth of the canal, when that work is completed. the tide rises and falls about fifteen feet on the average, varying with the season and the phases of the moon; and consequently a lock will be necessary at panama to prevent the formation of a current through the canal. the mouth of the canal is at la boca, some distance from the railway station. engineering reasons caused the selection of this spot, as it possessed considerable advantages over the railway terminus. it is the intention of the company to dredge out a large basin near la boca, where ships can lie in safety while waiting their turn to pass through to the atlantic ocean. until this basin is completed, the anchorage for large ships will be in the vicinity of the islands where the pacific mail, and other large companies, have their docks and coaling-stations. [illustration: station at panama.] our friends found their baggage at the station; they had telegraphed for accommodations in the principal hotel of panama, and the runner of the house was waiting to meet them. confiding their baggage to his care, they proceeded at once to the establishment; breakfast had been served in the directors' car during the ride from aspinwall, and consequently they were ready to start at once to look through the city. we are permitted to make the following extract from frank's note-book: [illustration: cathedral at panama.] "panama contains about eleven thousand inhabitants, and is very substantially built of stone. there is nothing particularly attractive about it, but it is quaint and interesting; the houses are built with court-yards, in the spanish style, and you might easily imagine yourself in a part of cordova or cadiz, or even in madrid. the cathedral is a fine building for this part of the world, though it would not be regarded as of much account in any prominent city of europe. the bells are old and not very tuneful; they are rung at frequent intervals, beginning at an early hour of the morning, and it is not advisable for a nervous traveller to take lodgings in the immediate vicinity of the venerable building. "the city is in north latitude ° ', and received a royal charter from king charles i. of spain, in . 'panama' is an indian word which means 'a place abounding in fish;' the old city was about six miles northeast of the present one, which dates from . old panama was destroyed in , by morgan, the buccaneer, and for a long time the present city was known as 'new panama,' to distinguish it from its predecessor. [illustration: ramparts, with old cannon.] "the builders of the new city surrounded it with strong walls as a defence against invaders, but these walls have been allowed to go to ruin. they would be of no use against modern artillery, as a few cannon could batter them down in half a dozen hours. in many places, bushes and trees grow among the stones; at one time the inhabitants were allowed to help themselves to building material from the walls, but the practice was not long continued. originally the walls were from twenty to forty feet high, with battlements and towers at frequent intervals; they cost so much that the spanish government wrote to the commander of the city, and wished to know 'whether the walls were builded of silver or of gold.' we saw some of the cannon that were sent from spain for the defence of the walls; they have not been fired for many years, and would probably explode at the first attempt to use them. "we went along the principal street, looking into the cathedral, which is probably two hundred feet long by a hundred and fifty in width, and is divided in the interior by four rows of massive columns which support the roof. it contains numerous shrines and altars; the floor is of brick, and when we entered it was being swept by half a dozen dark-skinned natives, one of whom offered to show us through the building. we declined the proposal, as there did not appear to be much worth seeing, and our time was limited. [illustration: water-carrier and native woman.] "in the plaza or square in front of the cathedral there were little groups of people, a few on horseback, but the most of them on foot. there were a few women whose veils of rich lace showed that they belonged to the upper classes, and others, more numerous, who wore the _reboza_ or mantle of the descendants of the aborigines. there were water-carriers mounted on mules, and on each side of every mule was a couple of kegs of water, with a sprig of grass or a bunch of leaves stuck into the opening on top. panama has no system of public waterworks, and the inhabitants are supplied from house to house, in the manner of two hundred years ago. the occupation of a water-carrier is said to descend from father to son; nobody gets rich at the business, but it affords a living to a good many people. "there were many natives riding, or leading mules laden with garden produce from the neighborhood, and also other natives who were their own beasts of burden, and carried baskets or bags on their heads. there were priests in flowing robes and shovel-shaped hats, some hurrying along as if on important business, while others were idling among the people, and evidently enjoying themselves. the cathedral is on the western side of the plaza, and on the southern side is the _cabildo_ or government house, corresponding to our city hall. it is a plain building of stone, two stories high, and with wide porticoes or balconies on both stories. here all the business of the city is conducted. "on the other side of the square there were several plain-looking buildings, with dwellings on the upper stories and stores below; some of them were old, while others were new, and there were two or three gaps where nothing but ruins was visible. panama has suffered severely from fires. it was almost entirely destroyed in , but was quickly rebuilt, as its business was then prosperous. in there was another serious fire, and since there have been three extensive conflagrations whose traces are still visible. the gaps around the plaza are the result of these later disasters. [illustration: gate of the monks.] "we crossed the plaza and continued on to the _postiga de las monas_, or 'gate of the monks,' which is crowned by a watch-tower, and leads through the ruined wall to the beach. a woman and child were sitting under the shadow of the gateway, and people were coming and going, on foot or in the saddle. when we reached the beach the tide was out and there was a large expanse of coral reef visible; it was alive with crabs, shrimps, cuttle-fishes, and other marine products, and we picked up lots and lots of shells of curious form and color. it is a splendid place for conchologists, and if the sun had not been so hot we would have stayed there an hour or two. [illustration: ruins of church of san domingo.] "we came back through the gateway, and met one of our late companions of the train. he took us to see the ruins of the church of san domingo, which was built soon after the founding of the city, and burned more than a hundred years ago. in its time, it was the finest church in panama, and was said to possess a great store of silver and gold images and other treasures. [illustration: remarkable archway.] "dr. bronson was anxious to see a remarkable arch which was said to exist in the ruins of the church, and our friend offered to point it out. we passed among the walls, which were thickly overgrown with vines and bushes, and finally came to the archway. it is forty feet long, and has a perpendicular radius at the keystone of only two feet; it is made of brick, and is said to be a wonderful piece of work. our friend said he had never heard of anything like it, and that many architects passing through panama in the last twenty years had seen and admired it. "some of the bells of the church were lying where they fell at the time of the fire, and others were hung upon timbers a few feet from the ground, where they could be rung as in the olden time. our guide told us an interesting story about the way these bells were made and given to the church. "soon after panama was founded, the queen of spain invited the ladies of her court to come and bring whatever money they could afford, for the founding of the church of san domingo. she gathered a large amount, which was used for building the church. when the time came to prepare the bells, people of all classes were invited to make donations, and witness the operation of casting. they came in great crowds; the queen threw in handfuls of gold, the ladies and gentlemen of the court did likewise; the poor contributed silver or copper, and so the amount of metal in the crucibles increased. then the queen threw in the golden ornaments that she wore; her ladies did the same; the excitement became great; rings, bracelets, and other valuables--many of them precious relics or family heirlooms--were contributed to the pious work, and thus the bells for the church in the new world were made. their tone was said to be of the purest, and they are held in great reverence by the priests who have them in charge. high prices have been offered for these bells, but invariably refused." [illustration: ruined church.] chapter iv. "the place of fish."--an excursion to old panama.--visiting a hermit.--drinking chichi.--ruins of the city.--morgan the buccaneer.--his history and exploits.--how he captured panama. [illustration: view from the ramparts of panama.] from the ruins of the church the youths and their companions strolled to the ramparts of the city, where they watched the sunset gilding the distant hilltops and lighting up the waters of the beautiful bay of panama. the wall is here enlarged into a wide promenade, which overlooks a level space containing the arsenal, the military barracks, and the prisons of the city government. the esplanade is the favorite lounging-place of the people at the close of the day, and our friends had an excellent opportunity to study the local dress and manners. nobody appeared to be in a hurry, and there was a tendency to divide into groups and couples, very much as in other lands and under other skies. some sauntered slowly up and down the promenade, while others leaned over the parapet, or reclined on the grass which covered a considerable part of the esplanade. ships and steamers were anchored in the distance, while the foreground of the bay was dotted with native boats, which seemed to be drifting aimlessly in the gentle breeze. altogether, the picture was delightful, and long to be remembered. on the next morning our friends were up early for an excursion to old panama, which we have already mentioned. as we drew on frank's note-book for the modern city, we will rely upon fred for our information about the ancient one. "we had a delightful ride on horseback," said fred; "leaving panama by the northwestern gate, which brought us to the fish-market on the beach. to judge by what we saw, panama is justly named 'a place of fish,' as there seemed to be a supply three times as large as could possibly be wanted for the use of the inhabitants. there were spanish mackerel, oysters, bonito, and a good many other fishes, and all of the very best quality, with the possible exception of the oysters. we asked if these oysters were the ones from which pearls are obtained, and they told us the pearl-fisheries were about a hundred miles down the bay, and the oysters not at all like those sold in the market. there was formerly a fine revenue from the pearl-fisheries, but the beds are practically exhausted, and of late years very little attention has been given to the business. [illustration: on the northeastern beach.] "from the market we galloped along the beach for a couple of miles, and then turned inland. we came out to the shore again, after winding among rocks and thick foliage, and followed along the bay till we reached the ancient city. "everything is in the most complete ruin; what was left by morgan has been vigorously attacked by the tooth of time. and i remark, by the way, that the tooth of time is much more effective in its work in the tropics than in the colder north, where the vegetation is less rapid and aggressive. walls and towers are so overgrown with mosses and creepers that, in many instances, the structures are completely hidden from sight, and their positions are only indicated by their shape. seeds carried by the birds, or wafted by the winds, fall into crevices between the stones; they are warmed into life by the temperature, and nourished by the moisture that prevails at all seasons of the year. they grow and flourish in spite of the inconveniences of their position, and after a time they force the stones apart, and the structure is weakened, and hastened to its overthrow. "everywhere in old panama you can see evidences of this great force of nature. much of the stonework of the city has been thrown down by the roots of the trees and plants, and in several places we saw stones of great weight resting entirely upon the roots of the trees that had lifted them up. evidently the city was built to last, and it is a sad commentary upon the work of its founders that it was so soon destroyed. the walls were massive, and the stones carefully cut. the old spaniards came to america to plant colonies, and make a permanent home, if we may judge by the way they constructed this important city, which was intended to command the commerce of the pacific seas. [illustration: watch-tower of san jerome.] "one of the most interesting relics of old panama is the watch-tower of san jerome, which is said to have been built only six years before the city's capture and destruction. it is a square tower, and we estimated its height to be about eighty feet; it is covered with mosses and vines, and there are trees and bushes growing on its top. the staircase on the inside has been thrown down by the roots of the trees, as far as we could judge from the position of the stones, though it may have been destroyed by the famous buccaneer. the whole of the inside space was full of roots, and we could not have climbed to the top even if the stairs had remained. "the tower was intended as a signal-station, from which vessels approaching panama could be descried, and tradition says a light was burned there at night. it is now the only visible part of the old city as you look from the beach or from a boat on the water; everything else is covered up with the tropical forest, which has been undisturbed for two hundred years. the only way to see the ruins is by clambering through the mass of vegetation; we did so, and were thoroughly wearied with our exertions, though amply repaid for them. "not the least interesting part of the sights were the fantastic shapes which the trees and vines had taken; in some places the trees were on the tops of walls thirty or forty feet high, and had thrown down roots on each side reaching into the ground. at every crevice in the walls little twigs were thrown off to hold the roots in place, and it almost seemed as though these vegetable growths had been endowed with human intelligence. two or three times we were deceived by the appearance of the roots, and mistook them for snakes. even when assured of their harmless character, frank paused and deliberated before moving nearer, and i'm free to confess that i followed his example. [illustration: a hermit at home.] "we were accompanied on our excursion by a gentleman who lives in panama, but had not been in the old city for two or three years. he said the place had two or three inhabitants, or, rather, there were that number of negroes who lived there, and acted as guides to visitors. with some difficulty he found the hut of one of them, and luckily for us its owner was at home. his only clothing was a strip of cloth around the waist and a pair of sandals on his feet, and the entire furniture of the place would have been dear at ten dollars. he had a few baskets and earthen jars, an old hammock, a rough bench to sleep on, an iron pot for cooking purposes, and a pair of rollers for crushing sugar-cane. he had a small patch of sugar-cane, another of bananas; the bay supplied him with fish, the beach afforded plenty of oysters, shrimps, and mussels, and the money obtained from visitors was enough for buying his tobacco and a few other trifles which made up the sum of his necessities, and were procured in a semi-annual trip to panama. he declared that he was perfectly satisfied with his way of life, and as he had been there for twenty years and more, i have no doubt he spoke the truth. "a prince in his palace could not have been more polite than was this dark-skinned hermit. he had no chairs to offer, but asked us to sit down on his bench; we accepted the invitation, and after handing us a gourd of water, which we found very refreshing, he put on his hat in order to be more fully dressed. then, with true spanish politeness, he told us that the house and all it contained were ours, but we couldn't see that we should have been much richer if we had taken him and his belongings at his word. we rested perhaps a quarter of an hour, talking with him about his solitary life, and then asked him to guide us through the old city. "'_sí, señores_,' he replied, touching his hat in a most dignified manner, 'but would we drink some _chichi_ before starting.' [illustration: making chichi.] "_chichi_ is the juice of the sugar-cane, and is a favorite beverage in this region; of course we consented, and he immediately picked up his _machete_ (hatchet) and went out. in a little while he returned with an armful of sugar-cane, which he proceeded to pass through the rollers, after first bruising the canes with a mallet to make the work of crushing easier. our panama friend took one end of the machine, and got himself into quite a perspiration before the job was finished; i fancy he did not relish it, but our entertainer did not seem to mind it in the least. the machine was a rude construction, and not to be compared with the polished rollers that are to be found in sugar-manufactories on a large scale, but it was entirely adequate to the wants of our sable host. [illustration: bridge at old panama.] "we drank the _chichi_, which was most refreshing, and then were shown through what is left of the city. here and there we found portions of paved streets, and it was only by following the lines of the streets that we were able to get around at all. then there were two or three groves with very little undergrowth, which are thought to have been public squares; evidently they were not paved, but macadamized, and trodden so hard that the undergrowth has obtained no hold, though the trees have not been so easily restrained. our guide showed us a bridge over a stream in the southern part of the city; it is called the _punta de embarcadero_, and is said to have been the point where boats came to discharge or receive their cargoes, and the stream it crosses is about thirty feet wide. it is full only at high tide, and is more an arm of the sea than a flowing river. the bridge is of hewn stone, and was constructed with a single arch. "when we had finished our wanderings among the ruins we went back to the hut, drank some more _chichi_, then mounted our horses, and returned to modern panama by the way we went. we were thoroughly tired, but we voted unanimously that the day was well spent." the excursion to old panama naturally roused the curiosity of the youths to know something of morgan the buccaneer, and his exploits. the readers of this narrative may have a similar interest in the events of two hundred years ago, and we will briefly give them. the rumors of the abundance of gold in the new world, which reached spain after the discovery of america by columbus, led to the conquest and settlement of the islands of the west indies, and also of the mainland for a considerable distance north and south of the isthmus. within the fifty years following the first voyage of columbus many colonies were planted, forts were built, soldiers were brought out in great numbers, and many ships laden with treasure were sent home from the new world. the stories grew with each repetition, and in a little while it was currently believed that there was sufficient gold in the cities of mexico, peru, and the other countries of south and central america to enrich the entire population of europe. [illustration: slaughter of priests by buccaneers.] the spanish conquerors were relentlessly cruel, and subjected the rulers and people of the conquered countries to all manner of tortures, in order to obtain their gold. the rumors of the vast treasures of the new world passed beyond spain and reached england and france. piracy was fashionable in those times, and it was not long after the spanish treasure-ships began to traverse the ocean that the waters of the caribbean sea were thronged with piratical craft. their crews were known as buccaneers, freebooters, pirates, or sea-robbers, and one name is as good as another. we will follow the example of the old historians and call them buccaneers, out of respect for their descendants, who dislike the word "pirate." [illustration: pirates' rendezvous.] they had plenty of hiding-places among the islands and along the coast of the mainland, and their numbers increased so rapidly that they formed colonies, tilled the soil, and in many cases established something like local government, though it was not always very orderly. in some of their colonies the more peaceably inclined buccaneers lived on shore, raised crops, hunted for wild cattle or other game, and not infrequently they brought their families from the old world or found wives among the natives. the rest of the community roved the seas in search of plunder, returning occasionally to the colony to refit their vessels, and deliver their proper share to the settlers on land, from whom provisions were obtained. sometimes prisoners were brought to the colonies and kept as slaves, but this was not the general practice, as it was not altogether safe; an escaping slave might reveal the rendezvous of the buccaneers, and, in spite of the greatest vigilance, escape was possible. consequently, it was the custom to release prisoners on payment of a heavy ransom, or to sell them to be carried into slavery, where they could do no harm to their captors. if they could not be disposed of in either of these ways, or made useful in some manner, they were generally put to death. sometimes a chief released his prisoners unconditionally, and without obtaining anything for them, but such action was not favorably received by his followers, as they considered it a loss of property and an indication of weakness totally inappropriate to his proper character. human life was held at little value in those days, not only by freebooters, but by kings and princes in all parts of the world. after all, there was little difference between the buccaneers, or pirates, and the people against whom their exploits were directed. cortez, balboa, pizarro, and other leaders in the spanish conquest of the new world were simply the heads of legitimate marauding expeditions, directed against the inhabitants of the countries they invaded. the buccaneers endeavored to rob these legalized marauders; they stole what had been already stolen, and their thievery was directed against thieves. they adopted the same practices of torture and cruelties that had been used to extort gold from the rulers and people of the conquered countries; the buccaneers felt that the condemnation of their practices was unjust, and their sensibilities were wounded when they saw that the conquerors of the new world were sustained and honored by their king, whose treasury was enriched by their plunderings. [illustration: buccaneers embarking on an expedition.] sometimes there was a period of war between spain and england, and then the king of the latter country would give commission to a well-known buccaneer, and exalt him to the dignity of a privateer. he was to fit out an expedition at his own expense, enlist his own men, and do pretty much as he pleased; in return for the royal protection he was to give a certain part of his gains into the king's treasury; though quite often this condition was not exacted, since the destruction of the enemy's commerce was considered a sufficient compensation for his commission. this was the character of morgan's enterprise against panama. morgan had obtained an excellent reputation as a buccaneer; he had captured several cities, murdered many people, often under circumstances of great cruelty, and had been almost universally successful in his expeditions. priests, women, and children were indiscriminately slaughtered along with his other prisoners, when they could not find a market as slaves; and the stories of his barbarities would fill a volume. at one time he had two thousand men and a fleet of thirty-seven ships under his command. his piracies were directed against the spaniards; the english looked upon his performances with a kindly eye; and when he organized his expedition which ended with the capture of panama the governor of jamaica ordered an english ship of thirty-six guns to assist him, and gave him authority to act in english interest. there was a french ship in the harbor of jamaica, also carrying thirty-six guns, which morgan desired; and he soon found reason enough, to his mind, for her capture. a short time before, this french ship had stopped an english vessel at sea and taken provisions from her without paying for them. morgan made this a pretext for seizing her; accordingly, he invited her officers on board the english ship and there made them prisoners. then he seized their craft, but, unfortunately for his plans, she blew up a few hours afterwards and was totally destroyed. it was not known how the accident occurred, but morgan said it was caused by the french prisoners, who set the ship on fire. [illustration: morgan's reception at chagres.] the fleet sailed away a week after this incident and proceeded to capture maracaibo, saint catherine's, and one or two other places, before proceeding to panama. from saint catherine's morgan sent four ships to capture the fort at the mouth of the chagres river; the expedition was successful, and when morgan arrived and saw the english flag flying over the fort he fired all his cannon in honor of the victory. when he landed he was carried into the fort on the shoulders of his fellows amid many demonstrations of delight. an old nursery song has it that "taffy was a welshman, taffy was a thief." substitute "morgan" for "taffy" and the description is exact, as the hero of this story was born in wales. many of his followers were from that country or from other parts of the british isles, and his second, who captured the fort at chagres, was captain brodely, an officer of english birth. morgan repaired the fort, gave it a garrison of five hundred men, left a hundred and fifty to take care of the ships, and with twelve hundred men started across the isthmus for panama. they ascended the chagres river in boats as far as they could go, and then marched overland through the forest. all the boats but one were sent back; a guard remained with this single boat, with orders never to leave it for a moment. the journey to panama was a terrible one, and showed the power of the commander over his men. they had expected to find plenty of provisions in the country, and consequently did not burden themselves with any on their departure from chagres. at the first landing-place they found the people had fled, leaving nothing behind them, and this was the case at nearly every other point. for three entire days the men were without food, and many of them wanted to turn back; partly by persuasion and partly by threats morgan kept them together, though they were so much reduced that they were forced to eat some leather sacks found at an abandoned plantation on the way. [illustration: morgan's men dining on leather.] the manner of preparing this food is interesting, but it is to be hoped none of our readers will ever be obliged to put it in practice. some of the men devoured the leather raw, cutting it into small pieces, and swallowing it with water. others, more fastidious, cut it into strips, moistened it with water, and then rubbed it between two stones until it was flexible. then they scraped off the hair with their knives and broiled the strips over the fire. when the leather was thoroughly done it was cut into small pieces and washed down with water. after this frugal meal the men fasted two days, till they reached a plantation where they found a storehouse full of corn. all order and discipline were lost until the fellows had eaten all they wanted and loaded themselves with as much as they could carry. when they were assembled again they cheered their commander, and shouted "_to panama_!" [illustration: death of the indian chief.] their plenty did not last long, as they soon encountered a small force of indians who had been sent out to intercept them. the men threw away their loads of corn and prepared to fight. the battle was a short one, as the indians were overpowered by the superior weapons of the buccaneers, though the latter lost several of their number. the chief of the indians fought bravely, and thrust a spear through one of his assailants before they succeeded in conquering him. they were starving again, but as they came near panama they found a herd of cattle, which supplied excellent material for food. here morgan ordered a halt till the men were fed, and their strength was restored; the camp was full of joy at the prospect of a speedy termination of their sufferings, and on the next morning the attack was ordered; the invaders had seen the city from the "hill of the buccaneers," and were now in front of it. [illustration: moving through the forest.] morgan captured some indians, and forced them to act as guides, under the penalty, often exacted in war, of being shot if they gave false information. morgan had ordered the march to be taken directly to the city, but his guides told him the road was lined with artillery, and the whole spanish force was concentrated there. satisfied that the information was correct, he turned into the forest, and endeavored to move to the right without being discovered. the spanish commander found out what the buccaneers were doing; he could not move his artillery, but he marched his soldiers, and drew them up on the open plain in front of the position for which his assailants were aiming. [illustration: capture of old panama by morgan. (_fac-simile of an old print._)] when the invaders came in view of the plain they found three thousand soldiers ready to meet them, while their own number was little over a thousand. they were disheartened with the prospect, but morgan told them it would be certain death in the wilderness to turn back, while a well-fought battle would give them the city with all its riches. thus doubly induced, they determined to fight; the battle was begun by the buccaneers, and, certainly to the surprise of the spaniards, it resulted in the dispersal of the defenders, and the possession of the city by morgan and his followers, within three hours after firing the first shot. the buccaneers plundered the churches and the houses of the merchants, and they tortured many of the priests, and other inhabitants, to compel them to tell where their treasures were concealed. in anticipation of disaster, much of the treasure of the churches, and also of the wealthiest merchants, had been sent on board a ship which sailed for spain a few hours after the surrender of the city. it might have been captured with ease, but a party which morgan had sent to intercept any departing vessel did not do their duty, and so the richest of all the prizes slipped through their hands. morgan and his party remained in panama for three weeks, and then returned to chagres. before leaving they burned the city, and carried away six hundred prisoners, and one hundred and seventy-five beasts of burden laden with plunder. the division of the spoils was made at chagres; it amounted to only two hundred dollars apiece, very much to the disappointment of the men. morgan was openly accused of keeping very much more than belonged to him; the accusations became so serious as to threaten open revolt; and morgan secretly embarked for jamaica, and sailed away, with two ships besides his own. he reached jamaica in safety, and as the war between england and spain was then over, his occupation as a legal freebooter was at an end. his services were promptly recognized by the british government, and he was appointed a marine commissary, and knighted by king charles ii. it is to be hoped that he led a less disreputable life as sir henry morgan than when he was simply known as morgan the buccaneer. [illustration: the lucky arrow.] a curious incident is narrated by morgan's biographer in the account of the capture of chagres. the fort was surrounded by a palisade which the assailants repeatedly tried to set on fire, but each time failed. just as they were about to give up the attack and retire, an arrow from the fort passed completely through the body of one of their number and protruded from his breast. the man was mad with pain; he seized the arrow and pulled it through, then wrapped it with cotton, rammed it into his gun, and fired it back again at the fort. the powder ignited the cotton, and this in turn set fire to the leaves with which the fort was thatched. the spaniards were so busy in beating back their assailants that they did not discover the fire until too late to stop it. the flames spread to a barrel of powder, which blew a great hole in the side of the fort, and made an entrance for the buccaneers; meantime they took advantage of the confusion to open the palisade, and soon had the fort in their possession. chapter v. from panama to guayaquil.--vasco nunez de balboa.--his adventures and death.--scenes in guayaquil.--first experience with south american earthquakes. [illustration: bay of panama, from the southeastern rampart.] our friends spent another day in panama, devoting part of the time to arrangements for their departure, and the rest to strolling around the city, and taking a short sail on the bay. they visited the island where the pacific mail steamship company has its coaling-station, and its wharves for receiving and discharging freight, and saw the docks where ships needing repairs can be accommodated. fred made the following notes concerning the steamship connections from panama: "there are two american lines of steamers running northward to california, and to mexican and central american ports, and there are english, french, german, chilian, and peruvian lines reaching to all the ports of the west coast of south america. the most important of all these lines are the pacific mail (american), running northward, and the pacific steam navigation company (english), running to the south. when the isthmus route was the favorite way of travel between the atlantic and pacific coasts of the united states there were sometimes two or three american lines between panama and california, but at present there is only one. "there was formerly a line between panama and australia, but it was discontinued long ago, and a line from here to the sandwich islands, japan, and china has been talked of, but never established. when the panama canal is completed it is probable that the business of this port will be greatly increased, and the number of daily arrivals and departures will far exceed those of the most active times of the 'rush' for california." dr. bronson and the youths left the hotel about two o'clock in the afternoon, and proceeded to the dock whence the tender was to carry them to their steamer. the ships of the pacific steam navigation company run in connection with the royal mail line from england to aspinwall; the arrival of the english steamer at aspinwall had been announced by telegraph, and the train with the passengers and mails was due in panama about half-past two. while they were seated on the tender, and engaged in studying the beautiful panorama of the bay, the whistle of the locomotive was heard, and soon the train rolled into the station, and its burden was transferred to the boat. the passage to the steamer was quickly made, and by four o'clock the great craft was on her southerly course. [illustration: coast scene below panama.] as our friends leaned over the rail, dr. bronson gave the youths some reminiscences of the old days of california travel. "on the voyage from new york to aspinwall," said he, "passengers became pretty well acquainted with each other; and it generally happened that there were some practical jokers among them, who indulged in tricks for creating amusement. one of the standing jokes of the departure from panama was, to create alarm among those who were making the voyage for the first time, by spreading a report that they had embarked on the wrong steamer, and were being carried to callao." "how could they do that?" fred inquired. "by looking at the map, you will see that the bay of panama is enclosed between the mainland and the peninsula of azuero, the latter extending to the southward about seventy-five miles; consequently a steamer going to california must proceed in that direction, until she can turn the point of the peninsula. most of the novices were not aware of this; the rumor was started, and, if incredulous, they were told to look at the compass and be convinced. the compass corroborated the assertion of the jokers, and many a traveller was seriously disturbed in mind until the joke was explained." "he was probably more careful in his study of geography after that experience," frank remarked. "sometimes," continued the doctor, "the california steamers sailed at the same time as the ships of the english line for south america, and occasionally there was an international race as long as their courses were nearly the same. the routes diverge very soon, so that the races were brief, but, with a large number of passengers on board of each steamer, there would be great excitement while the competition lasted, and much money was wagered on the result. on one occasion, owing to the carelessness of somebody, one steamer ran into another, but no serious damage was done; at another time a steamer hugged the shore too closely in order to shorten her running distance and get an advantage over her rival. these accidents called attention to the racing, and the managers of the different companies issued a very stringent order against any more trials of speed. i have not heard of a repetition of these affairs for a good many years, and there is rarely any opportunity for rivalry, if we may judge by the time-tables of the various lines running from panama. when steamers are to leave on the same day there is generally an hour or two between their departures, and the later one does not attempt to over-haul her predecessor." [illustration: cave near limon river.] as the great ship moved steadily through the blue water of the bay of panama our young friends regarded with close attention the beautiful panorama that passed before their eyes. the land was on both sides of their course, the peninsula on the right, and the mainland of south america on the left; the horizon to the eastward was filled with the chain of the cordilleras, which increase in height farther to the south, and form the lofty line of the andes. one of the passengers who was familiar with the coast indicated to our friends the gulf of san blas, and other indentations which have come into prominence during the discussions about an inter-oceanic canal, and a good deal of geographical knowledge was imbibed in the first few hours of the voyage. the bay of panama is about one hundred and ten miles long, and its width at the mouth is a little more than that distance. the course of the steamer carried her away from the peninsula, and before they had been long under way the latter was only dimly visible. it vanished with the sun, and by the following morning was far behind them. the placid waters of the pacific ocean filled the horizon, south, north, and west, but the mountains on the east were in full view. smoke issuing from some of these mountains showed that they were volcanic, and the youths readily understood that they were approaching the region of eruptions and earthquakes. [illustration: vasco nunez de balboa.] guayaquil, in ecuador, was the first stopping-place of the steamer, four days from panama. frank suggested that it was a good time to refresh their memories, or add to their knowledge, of the history of this part of the world; fred agreed with him, and thought they would do well to begin with vasco nunez de balboa, the discoverer of the pacific ocean. the doctor gave his approval, and the principal part of the second day at sea was devoted to that enterprising explorer. while frank read from balboa's biography, fred took notes of the most important parts of the story, which were as follows: "vasco nunez de balboa was a spanish nobleman, who dissipated his fortune, and ran away from home to avoid imprisonment for debt. he was born in , and sailed for the new world soon after the return of columbus from his fourth voyage. "in , martin fernandez de enciso sailed for the colony of carthagena, which had been established a few years earlier. he found in its harbor a brigantine which contained the remnants of a colony established farther down the coast, but abandoned in consequence of the hostility of the natives and the difficulty of procuring food. the leader of this party was francisco pizarro, whose name is known to every reader of south american history, in connection with the conquest of peru. [illustration: balboa carried on shipboard.] "after a short delay in carthagena, enciso sailed for st. sebastian, accompanied by pizarro's brigantine. an hour or two before the vessel was to leave port some men brought a cask on board, and it was lowered into the hold with the rest of the provisions. when the ship was fairly out at sea the end of the cask was pushed out, and, instead of edibles for the crew, there appeared the form and figure of a man! [illustration: balboa makes his appearance.] "the man was balboa, who had been living in carthagena. he had so loaded himself with debts in his new home that his creditors were about to arrest him and he was closely watched to prevent his running away. he determined to sail with enciso, and caused himself to be headed up in a cask and carried on board in the manner described." frank and fred had a hearty laugh over this part of the story. one of them asked the doctor if this mode of travel was in fashion at the present time. "not often," was the reply, "but it is sometimes practised by those who wish to do exactly like balboa, escape from their creditors. i have known of a man being carried on board a steamer at new york in a large trunk, which was ostensibly the baggage of his wife, and there have been instances of criminals escaping from prison by being shut up in boxes and carried out as merchandise. "in the days of slavery the friends of freedom used to assist slaves to escape from bondage in a variety of ways. one of the favorite modes for a fugitive to cross the line from south to north was to be shut up in a box and sent as a freight or express package. i once knew a negro in philadelphia who was sent in this way from richmond to the quaker city; he was about thirty hours on the way, and almost dead from suffocation when his prison was opened. though his conveyance was conspicuously labelled, 'this side up with care!' he was twice left standing on his head for two or three hours. his name was henry brown; in memory of his adventures, and to distinguish him from other henry browns, he was ever afterwards known as henry box brown. "and now let us return to balboa," said the doctor. the hint was sufficient, and the narrative was resumed. "enciso was angry at the deception practised by balboa in securing passage as a stowaway, but soon had reason to be glad he had such a bold adventurer on his ship. at first he threatened to leave balboa on a desert island, but when the latter offered his services and promised to be a good soldier the leader relented. expeditions like those of the spaniards are not made up of the best materials of society, and events afterwards proved that balboa was more than the average adventurer of the sixteenth century. "on the way to st. sebastian enciso's ship ran upon the rocks and was lost, with all its cargo, only the crew escaping to the brigantine of pizarro. enciso did not know where to go; and while he was pondering upon the best course to pursue balboa came before him and said he knew of an indian village on the bank of a river called darien; the country near the village was fertile, and the natives had plenty of gold. [illustration: village on a river of darien.] "enciso sailed for the village, which he captured with ease, and compelled the inhabitants to deliver up fifty thousand dollars' worth of gold ornaments. he established a colony there, and forbade any one to traffic with the natives for gold, under penalty of death. this arbitrary order was opposed by balboa, who remembered the threat to leave him on a desert island; as the followers of enciso were quite as covetous as their leader, the prohibition was easily made the basis of a revolt. "balboa managed matters so well that enciso was forced to leave for spain, while the former became governor, with absolute authority over all the colony. he immediately sent pizarro to explore a neighboring province, but the expedition was unsuccessful; pizarro was driven back by the indians, who attacked him in great force. balboa then headed an expedition in person, and while sailing along the coast he picked up two spaniards in the dress of natives. they were deserters from another colony, and had been living with careta, the chief of the province of coyba; they had been kindly treated by this chief, but promptly offered to pilot balboa to his village, which was said to contain great quantities of the precious metal desired by the spaniards. "balboa accepted their offer and started for careta's capital, accompanied by the deserters and one hundred and fifty soldiers. careta received him kindly, and after a short stay balboa pretended to leave. in the night he attacked the village and made prisoners of the chief, together with his family, and many of his people. careta made peace with the spaniards by giving up a large amount of gold, and offering the hand of his daughter in marriage to balboa. the historians say she had much influence over balboa, and on one occasion saved his life. [illustration: balboa and the indian princess.] "balboa promised to help careta against his enemies, and in compliance with his promise he took eighty men and went on an expedition against ponca, who was an enemy of careta, and, what was more to the point with balboa, was said to have a great amount of treasure. ponca was attacked and his village was burned, but the victors obtained very little gold. then they went to the neighboring province of comagre, whose chief was friendly with careta, and received them kindly. the chief came out to meet the strangers and escort them to the village, where he gave them food and comfortable lodgings, and did everything he could to make their stay agreeable. "the people at this village were the most advanced in civilization that the spaniards had thus far found in america. the chief's palace was a frame building, four hundred and fifty feet long and two hundred and forty wide, and it was divided into numerous apartments for the chief and his family and officers. underneath it there was a cellar for storing provisions, and in one part of the building was a mausoleum, where the bodies of the chief's ancestors were preserved. balboa examined this mausoleum, and found that the bodies were first dried by fire, to prevent decay, and then wrapped in great quantities of cloths which were interwoven with threads of gold. pearls and pieces of gold were fastened around the wrappings, and then the bundles were hung against the walls of the room. "it did not take long for the spanish avarice to show itself, and to meet it the eldest son of the chief brought four thousand ounces of gold, which was distributed among the men, after a fifth of the whole had been reserved for the crown. during the division a quarrel arose between two of the men, about the weight of two pieces of gold. [illustration: quarrel for the gold.] "they drew their swords and were about to fight, when the young chief seized the scales and dashed their contents to the ground. "'why do you quarrel about such trash as this?' said he. 'if you come here for gold, go beyond those mountains, where there is a great sea on which sail vessels like your own. the streams that flow into it are filled with gold; the people who live on its coast eat and drink from vessels of gold.'" balboa was present at this incident; he had not interfered in the quarrel, but when the chief spoke he became interested. he talked long and earnestly with the chief, who represented the dangers and difficulties of the way, but offered to show it to the adventurer, if he was determined to go there. "balboa returned to the colony at darien to make preparations for an expedition to discover the great sea beyond the mountains, and obtain the gold of the people along its coast. he sent to spain for the men he required for the journey, but after he had waited long and anxiously a ship arrived with news that his enemy enciso had obtained a favorable hearing before the king, and was coming back to assume command, while balboa was to be sent to spain to answer a charge of treason. "he determined to make a bold stroke, and called for volunteers to accompany him on the expedition, as he could not expect the men he had asked for from the king. one hundred and ninety men volunteered, and on the st of september, , he sailed with a brigantine and ten canoes. he reached the dominions of his father-in-law, careta, near the modern village of careto, about twenty miles from the mouth of the caledonia river, on the route taken by lieutenant strain. [illustration: marching through the forest.] "here the inland march began. the men toiled over rocks and among the thick undergrowth, and suffered from sickness and hunger and from the opposition of the indians. they could not find the young chief who had offered to guide them over the mountains, but they captured some of the indians and forced them to show the way. at one village the chief called out his men to attack the strangers, but they were quickly dispersed by the guns of the spaniards. the indians had never heard the report of fire-arms, and were paralyzed at what they believed to be thunder and lightning in human hands. "beyond this village was a mountain, from whose top the guide assured balboa the great ocean was visible. halting a day for the benefit of his sick and wounded, he pushed on till he reached the foot of the mountain, and stood there with his faithful followers. there they rested until another morning; he ordered every man to be ready to move at daybreak and then he lay down to sleep. his example was followed by his men; they slept, but he did not, as his mind was too full of what the morrow might disclose to allow of slumber. "at the first sign of day he roused his men, and prepared for the march. the sick and wounded were left in the camp, and with sixty-seven followers he pushed forward. it was nearly noon when they emerged from the forest, and stood at the foot of the stony peak from which the guide said the sea was visible. here balboa ordered his men to remain till he had reached the summit; he wished that his eyes should be the first to look upon the great ocean, of whose existence he still had lingering doubts. [illustration: discovery of the pacific.] "he reached the summit, and there, spread before him and filling the horizon, were the blue waters of the pacific. balboa gazed for several minutes, in the enthusiasm of his discovery, and then beckoned for his followers to join him. "the men dashed forward, pizarro among them, and soon were at the side of their chief. one of the party was a priest, and as they came to a halt he began to chant _te deum laudamus!_ the chant was taken up by the whole band of adventurers, and as soon as it was ended they proceeded to build a mound of stones on which they erected a cross, in honor of the discovery. "balboa then descended the mountain to the shores of the pacific, where he took possession of the waters in the name of his king. he attempted to explore the country, but travelled only a short distance along the coast; passing through many hardships, he returned to darien, whence he despatched a ship to spain, bearing the news of his discovery, and the royal share of the gold he had taken. [illustration: cutting timber for the ships.] "already a new governor had been appointed, and shortly after balboa's messenger had sailed the governor arrived. balboa was tried on the old charges, and acquitted, and he then started to carry out his intention of exploring the pacific. crossing the mountains, he built vessels on the banks of the valsa river, visited the pearl islands in panama bay, and explored parts of the coast. it was reported that he intended to establish a colony on the pacific ocean, and set up in opposition to the newly appointed governor of darien--or, rather, independently of him. [illustration: death of balboa.] "the governor summoned balboa to darien to meet him in friendly consultation, and the latter went, in spite of the advice of his comrades, who suspected that official's intentions. the governor arrested him on a charge of treason, and went through the form of a trial, which resulted in balboa's conviction and condemnation to death. when he was led forth to execution a crier preceded him, proclaiming him a traitor to the crown. 'it is false!' exclaimed balboa with great indignation; 'i have sought to serve my king with truth and loyalty, and no such crime as treason has ever entered my mind.' "balboa was only forty-one years of age when he perished, the victim of the same jealousy and hatred which caused columbus to be carried in chains to the prison where he died. there is no doubt that his career was marked by many acts of cruelty, but nothing in his history indicates other than the most devoted loyalty to his sovereign and to the country of his birth." the study of the history of balboa was followed by a careful inspection of the map of the darien isthmus, in the effort to determine the identity of the mountain from which the pacific ocean was first seen by the eyes of a european. the doctor told the youths that the mountain had not been identified, but was thought to lie between the rivers which strain attempted to follow in his explorations for a canal. all the peaks in this region are difficult of access, and few of them have been ascended by white men. the steamer reached guayaquil on the morning of the fourth day from panama. our friends secured a boat for themselves and their baggage, and went on shore immediately; it was their intention to spend a fortnight in ecuador, and then take steamer again to callao. at the landing-place they were beset by beggars, pedlers, guides, and donkey-owners, all desirous of receiving tokens of remembrance in the shape of money, selling articles of use or uselessness, or otherwise rendering real or imaginary services. all were shaken off in a little while, with the exception of the most prepossessing of the guides, who was engaged to take them to the hotel and show them around the city. a rickety carriage was obtained, but, as it showed signs of weakness, it was exchanged at the hotel for one of a more substantial character. the streets and the buildings that lined them greatly resembled those of panama, and indicated that the builders of both were of the same nationality. the cathedral was visited, but there was nothing remarkable in its appearance, and a very brief examination sufficed. frank said the most interesting part of the city was the river which ran through it; it is called the guayaquil, and also the guayas; its name has been given to the city, which is really "santiago di guayaquil." all the provisions for the city are brought in canoes and on _balsas_ or rafts, and every morning the river is almost covered with these crafts. they were laden with all sorts of things produced in the country--bananas, plantains, pineapples, cocoanuts, guavas, melons, oranges, zapotes, mangoes, and kindred fruits that grow in the tropics, and there was also a goodly array of tropical vegetables. poultry-dealers were numerous, and the fowls with which their cages were filled kept up a vigorous cackling; there were fish of many varieties, some of them quite new to our young friends, who regarded them with much interest. in their eagerness to get about the boatmen frequently ran their craft against those of their neighbors, but there was the utmost good-nature, with one or two exceptions. probably the people find it does not pay to quarrel where the climate is so warm, and the effort of getting into a passion is too much for every-day life. [illustration: cathedral of guayaquil.] the city has a population of twenty-five or thirty thousand, and is a little more than two degrees south of the equator, consequently it is very hot, and quite unhealthy, in spite of the sanitary precautions that have been taken by its authorities. the bay, or gulf, of guayaquil has a tide of about twenty feet, so that any accumulation of impurities is prevented by the great flow of water in and out of the channel every day. it has one of the best harbors on the west coast of south america, and would have a considerable commerce were it not that the prosperity of the country is restricted by earthquakes. [illustration: street scene and ruins.] our friends found that some of the streets were narrow and crooked, but the most of them were comparatively straight, and crossed at right angles. they drove past the principal buildings, the governor's residence, city hall, and several churches, and then into the suburbs, where they saw some pretty gardens full of tropical flowers. as the forenoon advanced the heat increased, and they returned to breakfast at their hotel. the table was set on the veranda, which afforded a fine view of the lofty peaks of the andes. the manager of the establishment was a stout and dreamy spaniard, who went to sleep if his attention was not wanted for a minute, but waked immediately when he was spoken to. the waiter was of aboriginal descent, and seemed to have copied the habits of his master in the matter of deliberation, as he paused after each step, as though uncertain about the next. they had a breakfast of tortillas, or spanish griddle-cakes, a chicken broiled over the coals, which were still adhering in places, and an omelette in which various peppery things were very apparent to the palate. when they were nearing the end of their repast, and just as fred was helping himself to more of the omelette, there was a trembling of the floor that brought the youths out of their chairs and caused the doctor to assume an upright position. the movement lasted perhaps a quarter of a minute, and then ceased. "take your seats again," said dr. bronson, "and finish your breakfast. we are in the land of the earthquake, and this is an every-day occurrence." he suited the action to his word, and sat down. the youths followed his example, and a moment's reflection told them that they ought not to be disturbed by such a trifling shake at the very beginning of their south american experience. [illustration: in the land of the earthquake.] chapter vi. the paradise of earthquakes.--from guayaquil to quito.--a ride over the mountains.--all climates united in one.--the plains of ecuador.--chimborazo and cotopaxi. the incident of the breakfast naturally drew their attention to the earthquakes that frequently shake the mountainous parts of south america, and render life and property more uncertain than in regions which are not subject to these disturbances. "ecuador may be considered the paradise of the earthquake," said the doctor, "though it is not much ahead of peru and chili in that respect. to give a list of the earthquakes that have destroyed life and property in this country since it first became known to the spaniards would be to recite a long series of dates; guayaquil has been shaken up a great many times, but it has suffered less than the capital. here, at the sea-coast, we are somewhat removed from the centre of the disturbance, but by no means out of its reach." "we will hope," said fred, "that the violent earthquakes will postpone themselves until our departure." dr. bronson and frank emphatically approved fred's suggestion, and the doctor proceeded with his comments. "the central portion of ecuador," said he, "is at an elevation of several thousand feet, and contains many active volcanoes. the valleys in which are the cities and cultivated part of the country are rarely less than feet above the level of the sea, and some of them rise to , or , . the highest of the mountains is chimborazo, , feet high; it was for a long time supposed to be the highest mountain of america, but modern surveys have shown that it has several superiors. it is the sixth in elevation of the chain of the andes, and these in turn are surpassed, in the old world, by several of the himalayas. the best known of the active volcanoes is cotopaxi, nearly , feet high, but there are others that rival it in destructive energy. "we shall have opportunity to study these volcanoes quite nearly," continued the doctor, "as we go to quito and the region around it. there does not appear to be any danger of an eruption at present, and if we allow our minds to be constantly filled with dread of a catastrophe we shall not enjoy the journey. so we'll let the earthquakes take care of themselves, as they generally do." [illustration: the central part or ecuador.] in the afternoon they arranged for the storage of such baggage as they did not wish to take with them. trunks were left behind, and the whole trio was reduced to light marching order, in accordance with their custom when making the excursions of which we have read in "the boy travellers in the far east." toilet bags, with a small stock of underclothing, an extra suit of clothes for a change in case of being drenched with rain, and overcoats, rugs, wraps, and blankets, for the cold weather at great elevations, comprised the equipment for the journey to quito. travellers must carry their own bedding and provisions while journeying in the interior of ecuador, and, in fact, in most of the south american countries. this was the custom adopted by the old spaniards, and customs change here very slowly. hotels are scarce, and the lodging-houses along the road give little more than a roof for shelter, and sometimes not even that. if a man ventures to travel without carrying his own supplies he will often go hungry; but, on the other hand, he may be sure of the most uniform kindness from the people of the country. they will give him the best they have, but very often they have literally nothing to offer. [illustration: las bodegas, guayas river.] the guayas is navigable by small steamers from guayaquil to bodegas, a distance of seventy miles. our friends took passage upon one of the steamers plying on the river, and were safely landed at bodegas after a pleasant run of eight or nine hours. frank recorded in his note-book that the river is not a swift one, and flows through a flat country in which there is not much of interest beyond the vegetation. "the banks," said he, "are lined with groves of bananas and plantains; the fruit of these trees forms an important article of food with the inhabitants, and it is no wonder they are not disposed to hard labor when they can supply themselves without it. "the banana can be eaten raw, but the raw plantain is considered unhealthy. both plantains and bananas are cooked in a variety of ways, baked, boiled, fried, or roasted; they can be formed into a paste after cooking, and then dried, and in this condition the article can be kept for a long time. humboldt estimated that four thousand pounds of bananas can be produced in the same area as thirty-three pounds of wheat or ninety-nine pounds of potatoes. they are cultivated with very little labor, and there is nothing which the soil produces that gives so great an amount of food from a given area of land. if a man will live only on bananas he can take things very easily. [illustration: a house in the tropics.] "in addition to the banana and plantain forests we saw many plantations where coffee and cacao are grown, and some of them were of great extent. then there were orange and lemon groves, fields of pineapples, mango and bread-fruit trees, and great numbers of cocoa palms. there were many canoes and _balsas_ on the river; the balsas are nothing but rafts made of the trunks of the balsa trees. half a dozen logs are lashed together with withes and cords, and braced with cross-pieces of wood so that there is no danger of separation. on the top of the raft a flooring of bamboos or split palms is laid, and on this flooring they build a hut in which the people live, often for weeks at a time. [illustration: cacao.] "some of these balsas are larger than others, in consequence of the logs being longer and more numerous. the huts on the larger rafts contain several rooms, and are equipped with conveniences for living quite equal to those of huts on shore. there are places for cooking, coops for fowls, pens for pigs, and nooks among the rafters where edibles can be stored, out of the reach of the four-footed inhabitants. a whole family will live comfortably on a balsa, and few of them are destitute of pets in the shape of monkeys and parrots. some of the rafts carried such an abundance of monkeys and parrots that it was not easy to say if they were not the possessors of the establishment, carrying the men, women, and children to a market in guayaquil. the monkeys and children appeared on the most familiar terms, and as the latter were unencumbered with clothing they were not to be readily distinguished from their tailed associates. "balsa wood is as light as cork, and remains a long time in the water without any tendency to absorption. the balsa raft was in use long before the visit of the spaniards, and the craft we have seen are probably identical with those that met the eyes of pizarro at the time of the conquest. "occasionally we saw monkeys among the trees on the shore, but they evidently did not like the steamer, and were careful to keep at a respectful distance. there were birds of brilliant plumage, but we did not hear a song from one of them; a gentleman who was our fellow-passenger says that most of the birds of this part of the world have no knowledge of music. there were plenty of alligators lying on the banks; we took several shots at them, but soon desisted, as we bagged no game, while the alligators seemed to enjoy the sport and the waste of our ammunition. many of them were lying with their mouths open, waiting for the flies to settle in their throats; when they judged that a sufficient number had assembled they suddenly closed their jaws, swallowed the flies that were caught, and set themselves for more. they make splendid fly-traps, and fred suggests that they should be introduced into new york and other cities to take the place of the many patent machines that are now in use for catching flies." down to quite recently the route from bodegas to quito was simply a mule path; a wagon road has been completed for a part of the way, and is ultimately intended to reach the capital. a railway is projected from guayaquil to quito, but for the present the mule path must be the reliance of travellers. a wagon was obtained, for carrying our friends and their baggage to the end of the road which traverses the level country up to the foot of the mountains. it was a rickety affair, but served its purpose, which is all that can be expected of a wagon under ordinary circumstances. at the end of the road our friends were deposited in a village which is chiefly inhabited by _arrieros_, or muleteers, and their families, together with a sprinkling of other natives more or less interested in the traffic passing between the capital and the seaport. the arrieros are a very important part of the mountain population of ecuador, as there is no travel or transportation away from the rivers and wagon roads without them. [illustration: arriero and traveller.] fred made the following note concerning the arrieros, and the journey towards quito: "the business is entirely in the hands of the natives or the half-breeds, as no genuine spaniard would consider it high enough for his dignity. some of the arrieros possess many mules, but the most of them have but half a dozen, or perhaps ten or twelve, and travel personally with their trains. the _peons_, or servants of the arrieros, are likewise of the native race, and accustomed all their lives to hardship and toil. their wants are few, as they live on food that can be easily transported; their general outfit for the road is a cotton shirt and trousers, a straw hat, and a _poncho_, or blanket with a hole in the centre, through which the head is thrust. this poncho is striped with gay colors, and is very often quite attractive to the eye. each arriero or peon carries his own food, which usually consists of a few red peppers, a bag of parched corn, and another of barley meal. with this slender nourishment they pass their lives on the rough roads among the mountains, and immediately on arriving from one hard journey they are ready for another. [illustration: in holiday costume.] "we were surrounded by half a dozen arrieros at once, and there was no difficulty in making a bargain, as several trains had just arrived from the mountains, and were anxious to return. we engaged five mules, three for ourselves, and two for our baggage; the owners endeavored to convince us that another animal was needed for the baggage, but as we had less than three hundred pounds of it altogether, we were not to be convinced. our arriero promised to be ready to start early the next morning, but it was nearly noon before we got away. we tried to hurry him, but it was of no use; he was anxious enough before making the bargain, but now that it was settled, and competition was out of the way, his anxiety had ceased. "the baggage was piled on the mules that were to carry it, and when all was ready we mounted our saddle animals. they were not very prepossessing in appearance, and looked as though the mountain journey would be too much for them, but they were the best in the train, and we concluded to be content with the situation. mules are considered better than horses for this sort of work, as they are surer in their footing, and will venture in places where a horse refuses to go. bulls and donkeys are also used here for carrying burdens along the mountain roads, but they are not equal to mules. [illustration: a pack-train under way.] "we filed out of the village, accompanied by several travellers who were going in the same direction, so that altogether we formed a long cavalcade. as we ascended the hills the road became very rough, and frequently the path was blocked by trains going in the opposite direction. in spite of all the good-nature that the arrieros displayed towards each other, there were several serious detentions; we found the donkeys more obstinate about holding the track to themselves than the other animals, though none of the latter were to be praised for their courtesy. "some of the trains we met were laden with coffee and cacao on its way to the seaport, while others carried potatoes, barley, pease, fowls, and other produce intended for consumption in the country. the people were, without an exception, civil and obliging, but they could not always induce their beasts to follow their example. many of the men were accompanied by their wives and daughters, but whether the latter were going for a pleasure-trip or formed a part of the working force i am unable to say. "the road increased in roughness as we advanced; properly speaking, it was not a road, but simply a track worn in the rocks by the feet of the animals that had travelled there for hundreds of years, and by the water that sweeps down in torrents during the rainy season. in some places the way was a sort of rocky staircase, and our mules placed their feet in steps which had been worn to a depth of five or six inches. it was often so steep that if we had not leaned well forward we should have been in danger of a backward somersault, and the consequences of such a fall, especially if the man should carry his mule with him, are fearful to think of. "accidents are frequent here, and the great wonder is that there are no more of them. fortunately, we did not meet any of the descending trains in the most dangerous spots, where the path wound around precipices or through narrow defiles; there are many places where it does not seem possible for two animals to pass in safety, and i can well understand that there is a foundation for stories about men engaging in fights for the right of way. the unprogressiveness of the spanish people in ecuador is shown by their being content to get along with this kind of road between their seaport and their capital city during three centuries! "night came upon us while we were climbing the hills, and as it is very dangerous to travel after dark, we halted where there were a couple of rude huts, not sufficient for sheltering our party. the arrieros and their peons slept outside with their animals, while the travellers were made as comfortable as their blankets would permit on the floor of the huts. there was the solid earth to sleep on, and we were relieved from monotony by the presence of innumerable fleas. in the morning, each of us felt sure he had been bitten at least three thousand times, and fred thought he could count not less than four thousand distinct and well-defined bites. fleas are even cheaper than bananas to cultivate and much more abundant to the acre; it is certain they are not destructive to life, for if they were there would be no living thing in ecuador. "before going to bed we supped from some of our provisions, aided by a dish of stewed potatoes prepared by the owner of the hut where we slept. a favorite dish among the mountaineers is potato stew or soup, which is known as _locro_; sometimes it is prepared plain, while at others it contains chicken, beef, or any other obtainable meat. the presence of meat adds materially to the dish for european palates, and when well prepared a dinner of locro is not to be despised. "our surroundings were not conducive to late sleeping, and we were off soon after daybreak. the morning was very cold, but as the sun ascended in the heavens the air grew warmer, and we ceased shivering. in a little while we reached the summit of a ridge several thousand feet above the level of the sea, and had a magnificent view. [illustration: a mountain cascade.] "there was a mist when we started, but it rolled away when we came to the top of the sierra; on one side we had the lofty mountains far above us, and on the other the country dropped away at our feet till it was lost in the distant shore of the pacific. the great snowy peak of chimborazo was in full view, and we longed to ascend to its summit and look out upon the wide stretch of land it commands. one traveller says the view from its top would embrace an area of fully ten thousand square miles, and i can readily believe him. nobody has yet been there, and the name of the man who first ascends it is destined to be remembered. [illustration: baron von humboldt in .] "humboldt and his companions endeavored, in , to ascend to the top of chimborazo, but were obliged to stop short when they had yet two thousand and more feet above them. "they were stopped by an immense chasm that stretched across the line they were ascending, and by the inconveniences that are generally experienced at high altitudes. blood spurted from their eyes and lips, and they breathed with great difficulty. according to barometrical observations, humboldt was within feet of the summit when he turned back. "boussingault and hall have since ascended to within feet of the top of the giant mountain, by taking a route different from that followed by humboldt. they experienced the same difficulties in breathing and in the rush of blood to the lips and eyes; both of them were enfeebled for some time after making the journey, and their experiences were altogether such as to deter any but the hardiest of men from attempting the ascent of chimborazo. "but though we cannot climb to the top of this kingly mountain, we may look at it as much as we please, and very beautiful it is in the contemplation. it is a sharp cone, sharper and more pointed than fusiyama or etna, sharper even than tacoma or ranier in our own country, and sharper again than magnificent avatcha, the great landmark of kamtchatka. its summit is covered with perpetual snow; it stands within less than two degrees of the equator, and the palm groves of the tropics are spread almost at its feet. eternal winter wraps its head, but eternal summer smiles below. standing where humboldt stood, all the seasons of the year and all climates of the globe may be passed in review. "but i'm stopping you on the sierra while telling you about chimborazo. well, the mules have had a chance to breathe, and we'll move on. "from the top of the sierra we descended the slope to the valley of the chimbo; the road is steep, and in many places slippery, and more than once we thought we would not get down without a serious accident. here and there our mules put their feet together, and slid with a velocity that made our hair rise under our hats, and our teeth shut closely together; we shall hereafter have more respect for the intelligence of the mule than we ever had before. one of the baggage mules tumbled, and was pitched together in a heap, but he gathered himself together, and rose again as though nothing had happened. "we passed many places that reminded us of the northern states of our own country; the valley is elevated eight or nine thousand feet above the sea, and the climate is quite unlike that of the region around guayaquil. wheat, barley, potatoes, and turnips are cultivated, instead of the tropical products which we saw along the banks of the guayas; at a little distance the dwellings of the people have a substantial appearance, but a closer acquaintance shows that they are built of mud and are anything but attractive on the inside. [illustration: native huts near quaranda.] "we stopped for the night at guaranda, which is on the west bank of the chimbo river, and is said to be a healthy place of residence throughout the year. it has a population of about two thousand, but there is hardly a decent house in the place. the buildings are low huts of _adobe_, or sun-dried bricks; the streets are made lower in the centre than at the sides, and when the rains fall there is no danger that the foundations of the houses will be damaged by water. "dr. bronson said that we were in the centre of the region which produces the celebrated _chinchona_, or peruvian bark, which has such a great reputation in curing fevers. it takes its name from the countess of chinchon, who was cured of intermittent fever by its use at lima, about the middle of the seventeenth century. it was then taken to europe, and the knowledge of it was spread through the civilized world." "quinine is produced from this bark, is it not?" frank inquired, when fred read the note quoted above. "yes," replied the latter, "quinine is an alkaloid, made from peruvian bark, and was discovered in . there are several other alkaloids in the bark, but none are as important as the one you have just mentioned. any doctor can tell you of its qualities, and a great many people who are not doctors are familiar with its uses. "no traveller will venture into a malarious region without a good supply of quinine, and in some countries it is almost as important to have it as to be provided with food." having answered frank's interrogatory, fred continued with his observations upon the trees that produce the valuable bark. "there are no less than twenty-one varieties of trees producing the bark from which quinine is made," said fred, "but some of the most valuable of them are extinct, owing to the reckless way in which they have been stripped. the trees grow on the slopes of the andes, in peru, ecuador, and other countries; they have been successfully transplanted to india, java, algeria, and the united states; and the future supply of quinine for a feverish world will probably come from other countries than south america. "the _cascarilleros_, or bark-collectors, are obliged to go far into the forests in search of trees, and they suffer many hardships and privations in pursuing their industry. the best of the trees have been destroyed; we asked if we could see one, and were told we must make a journey of several days to do so, as none now grow in the neighborhood of guaranda. a gentleman who lives in quito told us he had seen a chinchona tree sixty feet high, and six feet in circumference; it yielded two thousand pounds of green bark, or about one thousand pounds when dry. another tree that he saw gave three thousand dollars' worth of quinine; but such trees are rare. [illustration: among the lava beds.] "we left guaranda very early in the morning," fred continued, "and when we jumped into our saddles we could hardly see where they were. there is a ridge to cross, after getting out of the valley of the chimbo, which it is desirable to pass in the forenoon, as the wind blows violently there after the sun has passed the meridian, though it is quiet enough in the morning. we crossed the ridge, with the great mountain rising before us, and then descended to another valley to the city of ambato, which has nothing in particular to recommend it. [illustration: view of cotopaxi.] "to describe the dreary road from here to quito would be tedious reading. it passes through a region of volcanic origin, where the rocks are piled everywhere in great confusion, vegetation is restricted, and the miserable villages of the natives are repulsive in every aspect. it winds over hills and ridges, or through valleys and along the banks of streams; it rises in some places ten or twelve thousand feet above the sea-level, and nowhere is it less than eight thousand feet in elevation. the latter part of the journey is over a wagon road, passing in full view of the volcano of cotopaxi, and crossing a ridge that suddenly brings us in sight of the capital city, nestling at the foot of pichincha, the volcano which more than once has threatened to ingulf it in total ruin. [illustration: view of quito and the volcano of pichincha.] "the country improves as we approach quito. there are farms in great number, and the fertile slopes of the hills appear to be well cultivated. before we reach the ridge which reveals it, we traverse a valley that might be made far more productive than it is, and when we come to the banks of the machangara, the river that flows past quito, we can hardly realize that we are nearly two miles up in the air. but it is really so, as the elevation of the city is little less than ten thousand feet; and people afflicted with pulmonary complaints would do well to stay away from it." [illustration: inca gateway and fortress in the andes.] chapter vii. description of quito.--visit to the volcano of pichincha.--the deepest crater in the world.--route over the andes to the amazon.--return to the coast. [illustration: crossing the mountains.] the journey from bodegas to quito had exhausted the strength of our friends, and they were quite willing to rest in the hotel during the first evening of their stay in the capital. the time was improved by a study of the history of the city, and when they started out the next morning they were well stocked with information. "nobody now living can tell how old quito is," said the doctor; "it was founded many centuries ago by the quitas or quichas, and its early history is buried in obscurity. according to some traditions it is nearly two thousand years old. it is positively known to have existed about a.d., when it was captured by the cara nation, who were more civilized than the quitas. "about the year it was conquered by peru, and was made the capital; it retained that honor until captured by pizarro in his famous conquest, and the glory of atahnalpa, then its ruler, was extinguished forever. if you wish to know in detail of the romantic history and tragic fate of atahualpa, the son of huayna-capac, you can find it in prescott's 'conquest of peru.'" "i remember, in my school history," said fred, "it was said that atahualpa was imprisoned by pizarro, and offered to fill with gold the room where he was confined, on condition of receiving his liberty. he filled the room as agreed, but was afterwards put to death by order of pizarro." [illustration: a street in quito.] "the story does not rest on very good authority," said the doctor; "but the conduct reported of pizarro is quite in keeping with the character of the spanish conquerors of the new world. pizarro's biographer says he was guilty of the greatest cruelties and perfidies in the acquisition of gold, but he distributed it freely among his followers, and spent most of the vast treasures obtained from the incas in the erection of public buildings and other improvements for the general benefit. that he was a brave man is shown by the fact that the conquest of peru was undertaken, and successfully accomplished, with a force of three vessels, one hundred and eighty men, and twenty-seven horses." "and all this country was captured with such a mere 'handful of men!'" exclaimed frank. "yes," replied dr. bronson, "that was the force with which pizarro left panama, though it was afterwards increased by the arrival of recruits. pizarro received a royal commission from the king of spain, with a title of nobility. his descendants may now be found at truxillo, in spain, and they point with pride to their great ancestor, whose education was so neglected that he was unable to read or write. [illustration: palacio de gobierno (government house), quito.] "quito was a more magnificent city under the incas of peru than it has ever been since the spanish conquest. the extent of its population is not known, but it was certainly larger than to-day. the palace of atahualpa was one of the finest in south america, and its roof is said to have been covered with gold. all the gold of the city was seized by the spaniards, and the palace was destroyed. a convent now occupies its site, and we will look at its gloomy walls to-morrow. the magnificent temple of the sun is reduced to a few stones which mark the spot where it stood." with a running conversation concerning the history of ecuador the evening went on until it was time to go to bed. all retired early, and were up betimes to inspect the wonderful city they had toiled so hard to see. "we are not in the highest city of the globe," said fred in his note-book, "but we are two thousand feet farther above the sea than is the hospice of st. bernard, the most elevated spot in europe which is inhabited all the year round. according to our barometers, and those of other travellers, we are feet above the beach of the pacific ocean at its nearest point, or only feet less than two miles. "cooking is performed under difficulties, as water boils at ° fahrenheit; potatoes, beans, and similar things require much longer time for cooking than in the lowlands, and somebody says it is an excellent provision of nature that the potatoes are small. frank suggests that when a traveller among mountains has no thermometer or barometer he can ascertain his elevation by observing how long it takes to boil a potato of a given size. [illustration: water-carriers.] "we started out of the hotel escorted by a guide who was to show us the sights of quito. the streets are not crowded, and nobody seems to be in a hurry; there are many beggars, and some of them were very persistent, as is generally the case with beggars all over the world when strangers come within their reach. the water-carriers seem to form quite a class, and we were forcibly reminded of the same professionals of cairo. there was this difference, however, that the latter transport their merchandise in skins, while those of quito carry enormous jars on their shoulders or backs. they fill these jars at the public fountains, and then start off at a slow trot to supply the houses that employ them. we met a great many monks and priests, whose calling could be recognized at a considerable distance by their peculiar robes and the enormous hats which covered their heads. quito is eminently a city of priests, and is liberally provided with churches and convents for its population of forty or fifty thousand. [illustration: priests and monks.] "donkeys and mules are the beasts of burden, and occasionally some of them brushed against us with their loads, that projected far on each side. but they do not have a monopoly of the carrying trade, as we saw a good many indians laden with baskets of vegetables and fruit from the neighboring country, and they appear to be as strong as the donkeys, if we may judge by their great loads. many of these porters are women, and in some instances we saw men, without burdens, walking by the side of women carrying baskets large enough to be a load for two persons. evidently the aborigines of ecuador are no believers in the exemption of women from hard work. "there is probably little resemblance between the quito of to-day and that of atahualpa and the spanish conquest. the city had suffered much from earthquakes, and was partially destroyed by fire; the spanish conquerors founded a new quito in , and laid out the streets on lines of their own, and, since their advent, the earthquakes have again shaken it to its foundations. there were severe and destructive shocks in and , and another in . in the one last mentioned many lives were lost, numerous buildings were thrown down, and, according to the official report, every house in the city was so shaken and weakened that not one was fit to live in. half a dozen churches, the government buildings, and the archbishop's palace were wholly or partially demolished, such of them as were not thrown down being so weakened as to render their removal necessary. "in almost every street there are piles of ruins, and it is a wonder people will continue to live here with the effects of the earthquake so constantly before them. nearly all the houses are of but a single story, and the most ambitious of the edifices rarely exceeds two stories. most of the streets are narrow and have channels in the centre, through which streams of water flow during and after a rain. we observed a great variety in the costumes of the people, and were told that every district had its distinct way of coloring its garments, so that its inhabitants could be distinguished from others. occasionally we saw people with hardly any clothing whatever; but the absence of wardrobe was made up by a free use of paint. the natives thus decorated were from the eastern slopes of the andes, but they did not appear to be numerous. "the common houses have no fireplaces or chimneys; fires are built almost anywhere on the earthern floor, and the smoke is allowed to get out the best way it can. even in our hotel the kitchen is little more than a dark hole, where the pots and kettles are so indiscriminately assembled that the cooks are liable to mix things up fearfully, while preparing a meal. neatness is not fashionable, and there is no country in the world where the appetite would suffer more discouragement than here by a revelation of the culinary mysteries. "our guide called attention to the distinction among the men on the streets, some of them wearing cloaks and others _ponchos_. no gentleman would wear a poncho in public any more than a frenchman of the middle or upper classes would don a blouse for a promenade. the poncho is far the more picturesque of the two garments, and i am inclined to think its wearers are more comfortable than the genteel part of the population. ladies wear the _panuelon_, which corresponds to the spanish mantilla, and they eschew hats and bonnets altogether. the only head-covering beyond the hair is a lace veil or a fold of the panuelon; but its use is by no means obligatory. it is said that when the daughter of an american minister-resident wore a bonnet in the cathedral on the sunday following her arrival, she was criticised as severely as she would be for wearing a masculine 'stove-pipe' in a new york church. "a gentleman who has lived here for some time says there are about eight thousand people of spanish origin in quito, ten or twelve thousand indians of pure blood, and perhaps twenty thousand _cholos_ or mixed races. then there are a few foreigners and negroes, and other few who cannot be readily classified. the whites are the aristocracy or ruling race, and, owing to the numerous revolutions which have reduced the male population, women outnumber the men. for a white man to work would be degrading, and many a gentleman will not hesitate to beg for a dinner or a cup of coffee, though he would scorn to earn the money to pay for it. the poverty-stricken hidalgo of spain is no more proud of his lineage than is the spanish-descended resident of quito, who wraps his tattered cloak around him, and comforts himself with reflections upon the past glories of his family. [illustration: laundresses of quito.] "in the course of our wanderings we came to the bank of the river which flows past quito. it is an insignificant stream, ordinarily, but swells to a torrent at certain seasons of the year, when the rains fall in the neighboring mountains. laundresses were at work at their trade, and from the way the linen of quito is washed, it is certain to need frequent renewal. the garments are dipped in the river, and then spread on the rocks, where they are pounded with mallets or bowlders until the desired condition of cleanliness is attained. it reminded us of the way the bengalee _dhobies_ at madras washed our clothing, and accounts for the large importation of cotton goods into ecuador in proportion to the population. "while we were passing a potato-field dr. bronson reminded us that we might consider ourselves near the birthplace of an intimate friend. "we tried to think what friend of ours was born in quito, but could not remember any. we said so to the doctor, and he then explained that the one he referred to was the potato. "'certainly,' exclaimed frank, 'i remember, now you mention it, that the potato was found at quito by the spaniards and taken by them to europe early in the sixteenth century. from spain it was carried to germany, france, belgium, and italy, and last of all to ireland, where it was introduced by sir walter raleigh on his estate near cork.' "'you are quite right,' said the doctor. 'the so-called "irish potato" is really a native of south america.' "'the descendant is worthier than the parent,' frank remarked, as he pointed to the potato-field we were passing. 'the potato of ireland and of the united states is much larger and finer than that of ecuador. cultivation in a foreign land has done a great deal for this vegetable.' "we both agreed with him, as we had already remarked the diminutive size of the potatoes of quito. the same comment applies to the cherries, pears, peaches, strawberries, and tomatoes, which do not seem to enjoy the climate, but there are other fruits and vegetables that get along better. the finest fruit here is the _chirimoya_; its name comes from _chiri_ (cold), and _moya_ (seed). it grows in peru and other parts of south america as well as in ecuador; the fruit often reaches a weight of sixteen pounds, and has a thick green skin enclosing a snow-white pulp, in which about seventy black seeds are imbedded. professor orton says its taste is a happy admixture of sweetness and acidity; hamke calls it 'a masterwork of nature;' and another traveller describes it as 'a spiritualized strawberry.' we have tried to find a description of it, but must fall back upon that of our predecessors. dr. holmes says all the pens in the world cannot tell how the birds sing and the lilacs swell; no more can we give in words a satisfactory account of this prince among fruits. [illustration: balcony view of the andes.] "but all the time, during our walk through and around quito, we find ourselves every few minutes fixing our eyes on the great peaks of the andes and cordilleras that rise around us. we are in the centre of the most volcanic region of the globe; there are fifty-one volcanoes in the chain of the andes, and out of this number no less than twenty surround the valley where quito stands. three of the twenty are active, five are dormant, and twelve are extinct; they are all in a space two hundred miles long and thirty wide, and in addition to these volcanoes there are many other peaks not strictly volcanic. there are twenty-two mountains whose tops are covered with perpetual snow, and fifty that are each more than ten thousand feet high. do you wonder that while looking at the city our thoughts are drawn towards the mountains in whose midst it is built?" in the evening our friends arranged to visit the summit of pichincha, the volcano which towers above quito, and is easily reached. mules can be ridden to the very edge of the crater, but there are not a dozen gentlemen of quito who have ever made the journey to it; they are intending to do so at some future time, and this future never comes. apart from the guides, it is probable that the mountain has been ascended more frequently by strangers than by native-born residents of the city. our party started from quito in the afternoon, accompanied by two guides, and rode to a jesuit monastery in the valley of lloa, where they passed the night. rising at daybreak the next morning, they rode through the forest which surrounds the mountain, up to the timber line, twelve thousand feet above the sea; the path was intricate and very difficult, as it was frequently blocked by fallen trees and obstructed by huge stones, which it was necessary to pass around. from the timber line they passed into a belt of stunted bushes, and then reached the point where vegetation ceases. here it was less laborious travelling, but by no means easy. by nine in the forenoon they were at the foot of the cone, where they left the mules in the care of one of the guides and finished the ascent on foot. [illustration: the crater of pichincha.] frank and fred were of different opinions; the former declared the cone easier of ascent than that of vesuvius, while the latter thought it was not. but they agreed that there was less of it than of the cone of vesuvius, and therefore it was preferable; it was little more than two hundred feet high, and covered with sand and cinders at an incline of about thirty-five degrees. they had many slips and falls, but nothing of consequence; frank was a few feet in advance of fred when they reached the edge of the crater, and both gave a loud hurrah by way of encouragement to the doctor, who was lagging behind. they wanted to descend into the crater, but the guide refused to accompany them, and the doctor counselled prudence, as the crater of pichincha is the deepest in the world, and the descent is dangerous. humboldt pronounced it inaccessible, from its great depth and precipitous descent, but since his time it has been explored. the first who ventured there were garcia moreno and sebastian wisse, in ; and next after them was professor orton, in . the latter says he was obliged to use the greatest caution, and a single misstep would have sent him tumbling to the bottom of the abyss. at times he was almost paralyzed with fear, and felt that death was staring him in the face. "to give you an idea of the crater of pichincha," said the doctor, as they stood on its edge and watched the clouds of smoke and steam curling upwards, "let me give you some figures. this crater is feet deep; that of kilauea, in the sandwich islands, is ; orizaba is ; etna is ; and hecla . professor orton says vesuvius is a portable furnace by comparison with this crater, which is a mile wide and half a mile deep. we are standing nearly , feet above the level of the sea, feet higher than etna, almost four times the height of vesuvius, and five times that of stromboli, the 'lighthouse of the mediterranean.'" "i cannot do better," said fred, afterwards, in describing the view from the summit of pichincha, "than quote the words of professor orton in 'the andes and the amazon.' here they are: "'below us are the smouldering fires, which may any moment spring forth into a conflagration; around us are the black, ragged cliffs--fit boundary for this gateway to the infernal regions. they look as if they had just been dragged up from the central furnace of the earth. life seems to have fled in terror from the vicinity; even lichens, the children of the bare rocks, refuse to clothe the scathed and beetling crags. for some moments, made mute by the dreadful sight, we stood like statues on the rim of the mighty caldron, with our eyes riveted on the abyss below, lost in contemplating that which cannot be described. [illustration: el altar, volcano, ecuador.] "'the panorama from this lofty summit is more pleasing, but equally sublime. towards the rising sun is the long range of the eastern cordilleras, hiding from our view the great valley of the amazon. to right and left are the peaks of another procession of august mountains, from cotocachi to chimborazo. we are surrounded by the great patriarchs of the andes, and their speaker, cotopaxi, ever and anon sends his muttering voice over the land. the view westward is like looking down from a balloon. those parallel ridges of the mountain chain, dropping one behind the other, are the gigantic staircase by which the ice-crowned chimborazo steps down to the sea. a white sea of clouds covers the peaceful pacific, and the lower parts of the coast. but the vapory ocean, curling into the ravines, beautifully represents little coves and bays, leaving islands and promontories like a true ocean on a broken shore. we seem raised above the earth, which lies like an opened map below us; we can look down on the upper surface of the clouds, and, were it night, down too upon the lightnings.'" after an hour had been passed in contemplation of the awful crater, and the grand view from the summit of the mountain, the doctor suggested that it was time to descend. finding a place where the cinders were unbroken from top to bottom of the cone the youths slid quickly downward, as they had done at vesuvius, years before. they were followed by the doctor, and then the trio sat down to a dinner, which had been left in care of the guide who remained with the mules. it was seasoned with the best of sauces, hunger, which had been developed by the exertions of the morning, and the pauses in the progress of the meal were brief indeed. dinner over, they mounted, and returned by the road which they followed in the ascent. evening found them again in quito, and in the wretched _posada_ which is the only hotel of the capital of ecuador. during the evening conversation naturally turned to volcanoes and earthquakes; one writer has said facetiously that earthquakes are the principal productions of ecuador, and he certainly is not far out of the way. most of the south american earthquakes appear to have their origin in ecuador, as the shocks are generally felt there first, and with the greatest severity. the great disturbance of was an exceptional occurrence, as it had its commencement in peru, on the th of august, causing great loss of life and destruction of property. the shock in ecuador was three days later; it was more fatal to life than in peru, but less destructive to property. the peruvian earthquake occurred in the afternoon, and was preceded by premonitory shocks, while the ecuadorian one was in the night, and gave no warning of its approach. "according to the accounts," said the doctor, "the first shock of the earthquake in quito was felt a little after midnight on the th of august, another at four in the morning, and two others in the course of the day. one, in the afternoon, was accompanied by a shower of rain and hail, which fell with great violence; there had been a similar shower on the afternoon of the th. it was noticeable that for two months before the earthquakes there were serious disturbances of the atmosphere, and a catarrhal fever had prevailed, which swept off thousands of people. the whole country was in mourning for those who had died of the pestilence, when the earthquake came, to cause additional sorrow. "the amount of the destruction in quito has been mentioned already. the earthquake was more severe in the northern provinces of ecuador, where the ground sank, cliffs were thrown down, lakes appeared, great chasms opened in the earth, and the whole face of the country was changed. the province of imbaburu, which was the most fertile and productive in the republic, as well as the most populous and prosperous, suffered more than any other. it contained several towns and small cities, and the rural districts were in an excellent state of cultivation for this part of the world. the earthquake totally destroyed several of these places, as it came in the night, when most of the inhabitants were asleep in their houses. two towns in the canton of catuchi were completely wiped out of existence, and no sign was left to show where they stood. not five per cent. of the people escaped with their lives! [illustration: view of ibarra, ecuador.] "in another town seven tenths of the inhabitants were killed by the falling of the buildings, and the sinking of the earth into a great chasm, which opened beneath the place. the city of ibarra, the capital of the province, was beautifully situated in the centre of a fertile plain; it was surrounded by orchards, gardens, and fields, so that the place only became visible on a very near approach, or from the distant hills. it had a population of about ten thousand, though generally estimated at a higher figure. nearly one half of its inhabitants lost their lives in the earthquake, and it was said that hardly a dozen houses remained standing after the shocks were ended. "the subject is an unpleasant one," continued the doctor, after a pause. "let us turn to something else. "to-morrow we will prepare for our return to the coast. the guide has been trying to persuade me to go over the andes to the head-waters of the amazon, whence we can descend to the atlantic. i have told him our plans would not permit our doing so, but he desires to talk further on the subject. let us call him, and hear what he has to say; at any rate, we can learn something about the country to the east of us." francisco, the guide, was waiting in the court-yard of the hotel, and came promptly when told that he was wanted. he was an intelligent native of a village near quito, and had been several times over the mountains, between the capital and the napo river, one of the tributaries of the amazon. he spoke spanish fluently, and told his story without a moment's hesitation. we will render it into english, and give it as it was remembered by our friends. "the journey from here to the napo will take about fifteen days," said francisco, "and down the napo to where the steamers come on the maranon, or upper amazon, will take fifteen or twenty more. you will need to carry the most of your provisions, as game cannot be relied on, and the people are scattered, and have very little to sell. professor orton had three persons in his party, the same number that you have, and he calculated his provisions so closely, that when he reached the first village on the maranon he had just enough left for one grand farewell dinner." fred asked what the professor carried in the way of provisions. francisco drew from his pocket a faded and crumpled paper, and read as follows: "one hundred pounds each of flour and crackers; ninety pounds of sugar; fifty pounds each of rice and dried beef; thirty each of corn-meal, pea-flour, and chocolate; fifty of _mashka_ (roasted barley-meal); ten each of salt, lard, and ham; one hundred and seventy eggs; and one or two pounds each of tea, _maté_, soda, and cream of tartar. they bought eggs, chickens, rice, syrup, and other things from the indians, whenever they had the opportunity, and when they reached the river they occasionally obtained fish, game, and turtles' eggs. [illustration: napo indian porter.] "all these things were sealed up in tin cans," continued the guide; "partly as a precaution against injury from the dampness of the climate, and partly to save them from theft by the indian porters. the atmosphere of the napo is like a steam bath, and keeps everything wet, and the indians have a fondness for helping themselves when they have a chance. you can't get along without the indians, as they are your only porters. from here to the foot of the mountains you can go on horseback, but the rest of the way to the napo you must travel on foot, and the indians carry your baggage." [illustration: descending the napo.] this announcement caused a shake of the head on the part of the trio of listeners, and it became very evident that they were not inclined to make the journey from quito to the amazon in that way. [illustration: mountain pass in the andes.] "you will cross the andes at an elevation of fifteen thousand feet," said francisco, not noticing the sign of disapproval; "and, therefore, must carry thick clothing to shield you from the cold, and rubber ponchos to keep off the rain in the day and spread on the ground at night as a foundation for your beds. you want two suits of clothes; one to wear in the daytime, and the other to put on dry at night. when you go into camp you must remove the suit you have worn since morning, as it will generally be wet through by the rain, or by fording streams and passing through marshy ground." "how many pairs of boots will be wanted for each of us?" inquired fred. "it seems to me there will be a fearful destruction of foot-gear." "yes," replied the guide, "but your american boots will not answer for the journey. buy plenty of _alpargates_, or native sandals made from the fibre of the aloe plant, and be sure and have enough of them, as a pair will not last more than two days. they are better than boots, as they do not keep the feet uncomfortably warm, and no leather boots can keep out the moisture through which you will constantly travel. "then you want a stock of _lienzo_, or cotton cloth, which is the currency of the indians, just as it is of the wild people of africa. then add knives, fish-hooks, thread, beads, looking-glasses, and some other trifles, and you will have an outfit for the trip. of course you will suit yourselves about guns, pistols, cooking utensils, scientific apparatus, and the like, and remember to have no package weighing more than seventy-five pounds, which is the load of an indian porter. professor orton had thirteen horses to carry himself and party as far as the horses could go, and from there to the napo he had twenty indian porters, which is probably what you would need. the whole expense for horses and porters will be about one hundred and fifty dollars; at napo you will hire canoes to descend the river, and the hardships of your journey will be over. [illustration: rapids in a mountain stream of south america.] "there are many rapids in the napo river, and the voyage will be an exciting one; the rapids look very dangerous, but the indians are excellent boatmen, and, if you let them alone, they will carry you safely along with the current. at pebas, on the maranon, it may be necessary to wait a few days for a steamboat, as the navigation is not regular, but you can be reasonably sure of no further trouble on your way down the maranon and amazon to the atlantic." the doctor thanked francisco for his information, and told him they would think the subject over, and have a further talk with him the next morning. when he appeared again before them dr. bronson reiterated his previous assertion, that they could not change their plans, but the guide was rewarded for his information by a present of money that put him immediately in good-humor. he assisted them in their preparations for the return to the coast, and accompanied them as far as guaranda, where new animals were engaged to bodegas. we will now seat our friends on the enchanted carpet of the arabian nights' entertainment, and with the swiftness of thought place them on board a steamer leaving guayaquil for callao. chapter viii. from guayaquil to callao.--landing at paita.--the site of old callao.--arrival at lima.--sights of the peruvian capital.--general description of the city and its inhabitants. paita, in peru, was the first stopping-place of the steamer, but the delay was only for a few hours, and our friends had no opportunity for a lengthened visit to the shore. but they voted unanimously that they had seen all that was worth seeing, as the place contained very few attractions. [illustration: water-carrier and donkeys.] paita is on a bay affording good anchorage for ships; it is the seaport of the city of piura, which lies at the foot of the mountains, on the other side of the desert of sechura. there is no sign of vegetation in and around paita, and the water which supplies the wants of the residents is brought from a point thirty miles inland. formerly it was transported on the backs of donkeys, but recently a pipe has been laid for the entire distance, and the inhabitants are no longer dependent upon the vagaries of the long-eared animal for their aqueous supply. [illustration: desert scene.] as soon as the steamer dropped her anchor the doctor and the youths went on shore. they landed at an iron pier in front of a beach of gray sand, where there was a single street of houses, mostly very frail in construction. some of the shops and dwellings were solidly built, but the majority were of a sort of basket-work covered with plastered mud, presenting many impromptu loop-holes through which the occupants could gaze on the outer world. back of the town is a cliff of volcanic stone, rising rather steeply; frank and fred climbed to the top of the cliff, while the doctor remained in conversation with one of the english residents. the youths could hardly say if they had been repaid for their exertions, as they saw only the distant range of mountains beyond the desert, which was said to be about fifty miles across. the desert was of the same color as the beach and the cliffs behind it, and the landscape of paita may be set down as monotonous. "whether you are repaid or not," said the doctor, when they returned, "may be an open question, but you have had a view of peru, and certainly that is worth something." "i hope the rest of peru is different from what we have just seen," replied frank, with a laugh. "you have had a fair sample of it here," answered the doctor. "from this point to the southern boundary of peru there is little else than a strip of desert between the andes and the sea. in some parts of it rain never falls, and the whole expanse is barren of vegetation. here and there rivers come down to the ocean, but none of them are large, and the majority are dry for the greater part of the year. the guayas, which we ascended from guayaquil to bodegas, is the largest river on the whole pacific coast of south america." "i understand," said fred, "that the strip between the mountains and the ocean on the western side of south america is very narrow, and therefore the rivers cannot be large; but how does it happen that there is so little rain, and, in some places, none at all?" "i will endeavor to explain it," replied dr. bronson, "and in doing so will call your attention to the fertile regions of the amazon, orinoco, and la plata, on the eastern side of the andes, in contrast with the arid desert on the west. the tropical winds from the atlantic ocean are laden with moisture; they blow with great regularity from east to west, and thus sweep over the country drained by the rivers i have mentioned. rain is frequent and copious all through that region; it varies with the seasons of the year, but is always sufficient to keep the channels of the streams well filled. "the rains continue up to the foot of the andes and along their eastern slopes. the mountains condense the moisture from the warm winds, and up to the very crest of the dividing ridge there is an abundance of rain. but by the time the winds have crossed the andes all the water they carried has been wrung from them, and when they reach the pacific slope they have no more to give out. thus it happens that the eastern slopes of the andes and the great plains intervening to the atlantic have an abundance of water, while there is little or none at all for the west. [illustration: a wolf emigrating.] "there is a part of peru and bolivia where rain never falls," continued the doctor. "it is known as the '_despoblado_' or 'the uninhabited,' in consequence of the severity of its climate, and the great difficulty of existing there. in the language of a once-famous statesman of america, it is 'so poor that a wolf couldn't make a decent living there.'" "does this condition of dryness extend all along the western coast to the end of the continent?" one of the youths inquired. "no," was the reply. "as we go south through chili we encounter more moisture in the climate, and on reaching patagonia we find the western slopes of the andes drenched by frequent rains, and the tops of the mountains almost constantly covered with clouds. this condition is due to the trade-winds, which blow from the south pacific ocean to the land; the plains east of the andes in patagonia are comparatively dry, and swept by cold winds from the snow-tipped summits of the mountains. remember, we are south of the equator, and the farther south we go the more cold do we find." in conversations like this, and in the examination of books relating to peru and other parts of south america, the time passed during the voyage from paita to callao. frank was busy with prescott's "conquest of peru," while fred carefully conned the pages of "peru, or travel and exploration in the land of the incas," by hon. e. g. squier. frank declared that the work of prescott "read like a romance," while fred was equally enthusiastic over the book which claimed his attention. it is quite likely that they will rely upon these volumes for much of their information concerning the antiquities of peru, and the story of its occupation by the spanish conquerors. the steamer kept far out to sea, and very little of the coast between paita and callao was visible. finally, on a misty morning, her head was turned towards the land; passing a high, rocky island on the right, and leaving a low shore on the left, she entered the harbor of callao, and dropped anchor among a miscellaneous assemblage of steamers and sailing-ships, bearing the flags of at least a dozen foreign nations, together with a liberal array of peruvian and chilian craft. the doctor explained that there is generally a mist hanging over the harbor of callao in the morning, owing to the condensation of the tropical moisture by the cold current of air sweeping northward from the antarctic regions. the ships at anchor were revealed through this mist, and so were the towers of the castle that commands the harbor and the town at its base. beyond the shore was a line of hills backed against the snowy mountains in the distance. the shore formed a pleasing contrast to the one they left at paita, as it was covered with trees, and indicated a break in the desert that the doctor had described. the steamer was immediately surrounded by boats, and the boatmen hailed the passengers in a perfect polyglot of languages; they endeavored to make bargains previous to the arrival of the captain of the port, without whose authority the ship could not hold communication with the shore. that official took his time, and made everybody impatient; he was visiting a steamer that had just arrived from the south, and was not disposed to hurry. frank and fred relieved the monotony of waiting by studying the outlines of the shore, taking note of the heterogeneous array of boatmen, listening to their appeals for patronage, and attempting a sketch of the fort which defended the city and harbor. but their artistic efforts were so frequently interrupted that the sketches were unsatisfactory, and we are not permitted to reproduce them. "the harbor of callao is nothing to boast of," said the doctor, "but it is better than most others on the pacific coast. the prevailing winds are from the south and southwest, and protection is afforded from those winds by the island of san lorenzo and the tongue of land where old callao stood." "why was the city moved from its former position?" fred asked. "what was the difference between old callao and the present one?" "it was an earthquake that moved it," replied dr. bronson. "callao was submerged, with all its inhabitants, in , and when the water is calm you can row over it in a boat, and see the ruins down below you. at half-past ten o'clock one night the sea receded to a great distance, and then rolled back with such violence as to sweep the town and its fortifications out of existence. five thousand persons perished; nineteen ships were foundered, and four others, including a spanish man-of-war, were carried far up on the land. modern callao had a narrow escape from a similar fate in and again in , and at any moment it is liable to be engulfed like its predecessor." [illustration: ships in a fog.] the captain of the port came, and then the passengers were at liberty to land. the landing-place is at the side of a mole which protects the harbor on its northern side from the swell of the pacific. frank and fred were surprised to see large piles of grain in the open air, together with other merchandise, but their wonder ceased when they were told that it never rains at callao, the only moisture being from the mists and fogs already mentioned. the absence of rain renders the place unhealthy, as the drainage is not good, and the heat is great. frank thought callao was an excellent rival to cologne in the way of bad odors, and both the youths were disinclined to make a prolonged stay. the party went immediately to the railway station, followed by porters with their baggage, and in less than half an hour were on their way to lima, six miles distant. there is nothing worth seeing in callao, which has a population of some twenty-five or thirty thousand, and is important only from a commercial point of view. the railway skirts the shore for a short distance, then passes through a suburb of the town, and ascends an acclivity of about five hundred feet, which lies between the ocean and the capital city. for nearly the whole distance it is close to the _camino real_ or royal road, the old route established by the spaniards to connect lima with its seaport. the train toiled slowly up the incline, and accomplished the journey in little less than half an hour. this travelling would be considered slow in other countries, but it is satisfactory to the inhabitants, as nobody in lima ever thinks of hurrying. [illustration: a garden on the rimac.] much of the country between callao and lima is under cultivation, by means of irrigating canals brought from the rimac river. the rimac dwindles to a small brook in the dry season, but in the period of rains it swells into quite a river, and furnishes more water than is needed. in the absence of rain it is the sole reliance for the gardens and fields around lima; it is as necessary to this region as is the nile to lower egypt. without the rimac, lima would dry up and disappear; with it the city stands in a surrounding of luxuriant gardens and smiling fields. [illustration; a claimant for the sidewalk.] the baggage was intrusted to an employé of the hotel, who had been telegraphed for, and met our friends at the station; guided by a servant from the same establishment, they walked the short distance intervening between the station and their lodging-place, narrowly escaping collisions with troops of laden donkeys, that rushed along the streets as though they possessed the sole right of occupation. they seemed to prefer the sidewalks to the middle of the street, probably because the latter was less smooth than the sidewalks, and their drivers didn't care where they went as long as they kept moving in the right direction. few carriages were visible, and these few were not attractive in appearance. for a description of lima we will quote from frank's letter to his mother, which was sent by the next steamer northward from callao: "here we are, in the 'city of the kings,' as it was named by pizarro. according to the histories, it was on the th of january, , old style, that the spanish conqueror designated it as the capital of his dominions. that day happened to be the festival of the magi, or three wise men of the east, who came to bethlehem to adore the saviour; in old chronicles they are styled 'the three kings,' and hence pizarro called his capital _ciudad de los reyes_, or 'city of the kings.' charles v. designated the arms of the city to be three golden crowns on a blue field, with a rayed star to indicate the star of bethlehem, which guided the kings. the name lima is a modification or adaptation of the native word _rimac_, which formerly belonged to the plain or valley where the city is built, and is still borne by the river which supplies it with water. [illustration: view of lima from the steps of the cathedral.] "in many respects lima is one of the most interesting cities of south america; certainly we have found it full of attractions, and have not had an idle minute since our arrival. we have been trying to imagine what it must have been when surrounded by the walls which the spaniards built at great expense. these walls have proved useless in modern times; they have been completely destroyed, and the space they occupied is converted into promenades, or laid out in gardens or building-lots. the walls enclosed an area about three miles long by one and a half broad, on the left bank of the rimac; they were twenty feet thick, and somewhat more in height, and were made of _adobes_, the favorite building-material of this part of the world. the city is about ten miles in circumference, but a large part of its area is laid out in gardens and public squares, so that the whole is by no means occupied. [illustration: lima and the surrounding country.] "i send you a map of lima and the surrounding country, which will give you an excellent idea of its position. unhappily for peru, much of the beautiful region around its capital was laid waste by the invading army during the late war between chili and peru; chili was completely victorious, and also unmerciful, and in the battle which decided the fate of lima many of the country-houses and villages in the neighborhood were burned. this was the sad lot of chorillos, the long branch or coney island of lima, and also of miraflores, which lies between chorillos and the great city. "there is a railway from chorillos to lima, passing through miraflores; the invading army landed at chorillos, and marched along the line of railway to lima. they destroyed nearly everything on the route, and were only prevented from burning and plundering the city by the energy of the british minister and other members of the diplomatic corps, backed by the english and french admirals, with their ships of war in the harbor of callao. "so much for the horrors of war, which this country will long remember. the population of lima is variously placed at from one hundred thousand to one hundred and twenty thousand; there are about fifteen thousand foreigners and six thousand priests among them, so that you cannot go far on the streets without meeting either a foreigner or a priest. in all the cities we have ever seen there does not appear to be a more mixed lot of inhabitants than here; constantinople and cairo are not more kaleidoscopic than lima, and i think the american city is somewhat ahead of them. "there are english, french, german, spanish, belgian, and north american residents here; there are chinese and negroes, white, black, yellow, and all other complexions among the natives of the country, besides, as fred says, 'several wards to hear from.' professor orton says there are at least twenty-five varieties of people in lima; the upper classes are educated and polite, while the lowest of the population are among the most dangerous in the world. during the night before the occupation of lima by the chilian army the dangerous class had possession of the city for some hours, and committed many depredations. the foreigners organized a temporary police, and stopped the disorder; if they had not done so the whole city would have been plundered. [illustration: wearing the "saya y manto."] "we used to read in our school-books that the ladies of lima covered their faces with the _saya y manto_, or veil, when out walking, so that only one eye could be seen. we saw a few veils worn in this way, and the doctor said the wearers were probably old, and not pretty; the most of the ladies have dropped the old fashion, and permit their faces to be seen, using the veil only as a covering for the top of the head. i enclose a photograph of a lady of lima to-day, and a sketch which shows the old style of wearing the _saya y manto_. [illustration: a lady of lima.] "we spent the first evening of our visit in strolling through the plaza mayor, or great square, which covers nine acres of ground, and listening to a band of music which played several national and other airs. there is a bronze fountain in the centre of the square, and a garden around the fountain where tropical plants and trees seemed to flourish. the cathedral is on one side of the square; it is a fine building, and its corner-stone was laid by pizarro twelve days after the city was founded. our guide took us from the cathedral to an alley leading from the south side of the square, and pointed out the house where the great conqueror was assassinated. 'but he killed three of his assailants before they could overpower him,' said the guide, proudly, as if in reverence of the memory of pizarro. we thought he might claim to be a descendant of one of the spanish conquerors, and make his noble blood an excuse for demanding increased pay for his services, but he did not. [illustration: interior court, lima.] "the government palace fronts on the plaza, and the rest of the space surrounding the square is occupied by shops, principally filled with european goods; american products may be seen here, but not as often as we wished to find them. in two of the shops we observed that the weighing was done on fairbanks' scales, and our guide said the same apparatus could be found all through lima, and elsewhere in peru. of the agricultural machinery used in peru the greater part is said to be of american manufacture. [illustration: bridge over the rimac, lima.] "one of the sights of lima is the stone bridge over the rimac; it was built by the old spaniards, and has stood bravely against all the earthquakes that have shaken the city for the last three centuries. the bridge is five hundred and thirty feet long, and rests on stone arches; at the entrance there is a splendid arch bearing the inscription 'dios y la patria' ('god and country'). we walked over the bridge, and from its parapet looked upon the river, which was not over two feet deep in its principal channel, while a large part of its bed was bare. the rimac resembles the manzanares at madrid, and some of the foreign residents say the bottom has to be sprinkled at times to keep it from flying away. when the rain falls in the mountains the rimac swells to a considerable stream, and rushes along with great violence. "speaking of the stone bridge reminds me that the founders of the city used stone for the construction of the public buildings, and their example has been followed to some extent in modern times. but the common buildings are of _adobe_, which does very well in a climate where there is so little rain, and lasts a long time. the roofs are nearly all flat; it never snows here, and it never rains more than a few drops at a time. consequently the chief use of a roof is to exclude the sun. the temperature ranges from ° to °, stoves and other heating apparatus are unknown, and the only fires are for cooking purposes. from november to march the weather is dry and delightful, but from march to november it is damp and unhealthy, owing to the continuous fogs that roll in from the ocean. "but in spite of its even climate the deaths exceed the births in lima, and if the city were not constantly recruited from other parts of the country and the world it would be depopulated. i am told that the mortality among infants is three times as great as in london or new york. it is attributed to the dampness of the climate for a part of the year, and the bad drainage consequent upon the absence of rain. regions where rain never falls may be pleasant for those who do not like umbrellas and rubber clothing, but there are disadvantages which more than outweigh the comforts. "the buildings cover a large area, and are nearly always constructed with central court-yards. they are rarely of more than two stories, and the roofs would be of little use in boston or new york. the roofs are generally of a single thickness of boards, or of poles covered with matting, supporting a layer of sand or ashes, to absorb the moisture of the fogs. a summer shower such as we are familiar with on the banks of the hudson or connecticut would soak the whole of lima so that hardly a house would be inhabitable. [illustration: one use for chickens.] "we were roused early in the morning by the crowing of chickens above our heads, and on looking around to find the cause of the disturbance we found that the roofs of the houses in lima are the favorite places for keeping poultry. the flat surface and the absence of rain adapt the roof to this purpose, and the people are evidently too lazy to maintain their fowls elsewhere. you would think chickens might be cheap, when there are such facilities for rearing them; but they are not, and the same is the case with beef, mutton, and other animal food. a good many of the chickens are kept for fighting purposes, and not to be eaten; cock-fights are a common amusement among the people, and a great deal of money changes hands at one of these performances. "we had a pleasant walk through the central market, which is in a large building covering an entire square; or, rather, built around the square with a court in the centre. "on the sides of the square there are stalls for the larger dealers; the galleries and the open space in the centre are occupied by women who sit beside the articles they have to sell, and keep up a perpetual conversation with each other, like market-women all over the world. lying only ° south of the equator, lima has a tropical climate; with the outlying range of the andes sixty miles away, she is within a short railway ride of a temperate region. the result is that you can find in the market the vegetable products of two zones; those of the torrid, from the neighborhood of lima, and those of the temperate, from the mountains. "here are tomatoes, green corn, cucumbers, radishes, parsnips, and other growths of new england or new york, side by side with oranges, peaches, chirimoyas, grapes, mangoes, and other tropical things whose names are not familiar to you. flowers are in great abundance, and roses are everywhere grown in the gardens. you see them in great variety and profusion, and it is claimed for lima that she can show more kinds of roses than any other city in the world. there are vases of growing flowers in nearly all the court-yards and on the balconies, and the women of all classes use the flowers for decorating their hair. at one time there was almost a craze for the cultivation of roses, and many a man spent a large part of his income in the experiment. "we cannot say much for the cookery of lima, if we are to judge by what we have seen. the hotel is managed by a frenchman; his table is mainly french, but he has adopted some of the native dishes and customs. one article that may be called the national dish of peru is a part of his bill of fare, and known as _puchero_. i have obtained the recipe for it, and here it is: "'have a kettle according to the size of your puchero; put in this kettle a large piece of beef or mutton, some cabbage, sweet potatoes, salt pork, sausage-meat, pigs' feet, _yucas_, bananas, quinces, pease, and rice, with spices, salt, and plenty of red pepper for seasoning. add sufficient water, and stew the whole gently for five or six hours; then serve in a tureen or deep dish.' "puchero is patterned somewhat after the _olla podrida_ of spain, the chowder of new england, and the _bouillabiasse_ of southern france, but it has more ingredients and more flavors than all of them; i cannot say i dislike it, but could get along better if they would make it with less red pepper. they seem to think that the more pepper they put in the better; our taste has become hardened to hot things in our experience with oriental curries and african stews, but it is not yet quite up to the mark with these spanish american preparations. [illustration: ladies of lima at home.] "another stew, simpler than puchero, is called _chupe_; it is a favorite dish for breakfast, but not often served at dinner. the lower classes are fond of _picantes_, compounded of meat, fish, crabs, meal, potatoes, bananas, and red peppers, mixed with the juice of bitter oranges, and stewed with water. we have tasted of this wonderful mixture, but could not get to the second spoonful in consequence of the fiery nature of the peppers. fred says they use a pound of peppers to a pound of all the other ingredients, water included, and i can believe it. swallowing a torchlight procession would be preferable to a dinner of picantes. around the landing-place at callao we saw women, with little braziers of charcoal, ladling out the steaming picantes to the idlers and laborers of the port, and we are told it is their only article of food. in the poorer parts of lima there is a _picanteria_ every few yards, and each establishment has its patrons among the porters, water-carriers, and negro laborers of the neighborhood. the many varieties of picantes have distinct names, but all are flavored with red pepper in abundance. [illustration: peruvian infantry and cavalry.] "there was formerly a custom in peru, on occasions of formality, for the host and hostess to eat by themselves, beforehand, and take nothing during the progress of the ceremonious meal. they sat at opposite ends of the table, and were supposed to be attending to the wants of their guests. the same custom prevails in some parts of russia, but is passing away there as it is here. "another bit of table etiquette formerly prevailing in peru, and not yet entirely unknown, was to select some delicate morsel from the dish before you, and hand it on your fork to a lady of the party. she would return the compliment, and sometimes it was made rather surprising to the stranger when she took the morsel in her fingers, and placed it in the mouth of the one who had paid her the compliment. i am told that this latter part of the ceremonial, based on the correctness of the adage that fingers were made before forks, was confined to the interior provinces, and was not fashionable in lima." [illustration: a passage of politeness.] chapter ix. equestrians and their costumes.--ladies of lima.--excursions among ruins.--pachacamac, a holy city.--the ancient peruvians.--origin of the inca government. [illustration: a peruvian cavalier.] horseback riding is a fashionable amusement in lima, to judge by the number of mounted men that are seen in the streets and in the surrounding country. our friends learned, somewhat to their disappointment, that it has declined a good deal in the past twenty years, and the gentlemen of lima are now less renowned than formerly for their equestrianism. still, there are many excellent riders in lima, and occasionally one can be seen dressed in the costume that was once universally worn by the peruvian cavaliers. the fashions of paris have been adopted by society people in lima, and the picturesqueness of the old style of dress is fast disappearing. lima contains many professional horse-breakers, and they are among the best of their class. peruvian horses are easily instructed, and many of them perform surprising tricks; one of their feats is to turn around rapidly on the hind-legs when going at full gallop, and another is to jump over a wall, and immediately back again, with their riders on their backs. it is said that an english circus company once came to lima, but the proprietor and performers were disgusted, and made haste to leave the country, when they found there were many horsemen in the city who could fully equal all the equestrian feats of the ring. [illustration: horse-breakers at work.] one of the performances of the horse-breakers is to make a horse jump to the top of a broad wall, and describe a segment of a circle while standing on his hind-feet, and holding his fore-feet over the edge of the wall. he will do this repeatedly, and thus convince the spectator that it was not accidental. fred made the following note of the costume of the peruvian cavalier, uncontaminated by foreign influences: "he wears a _poncho_, smaller than that of the country muleteer, and more gaudy in its appearance; it is a fringed shawl reaching to the hips when the wearer is standing upright, and just covering the knees when he is in the saddle. a hole in the centre admits the head, and the shawl hangs gracefully over the shoulders of its wearer; it is more convenient than a jacket, or any other riding-garment, as it leaves the arms perfectly free to move in any direction, and there are no buttons to get loose. "the colors of the poncho are as varied as the tastes of the owners. sometimes they are pure white, without any ornamentation, but much oftener they are richly embroidered, or made in varieties of stripes, embracing all the colors of the rainbow. the trousers are close-fitting; they have a stripe on the outside of the leg, and are held by a strap beneath the foot. no horseman would consider himself properly equipped without a pair of enormous spurs, the rowels standing out three or four inches from the heel, and the spurs containing altogether fully a pound of silver. a broad-brimmed hat and a riding-whip complete the cavalier's costume, and he is rarely without a cigar between his lips. in mounting, he generally scorns to put his feet in the stirrups, but springs on the horse without their aid. the stirrups are huge blocks of wood, shielded with fully a square foot of leather. the saddle and other trappings of the horse are richly ornamented with silver, and sometimes with gold, and occasionally the bridle, head-gear, and crupper are made of silver rings linked closely together." the decline of peruvian horsemanship was shown in the late war between chili and peru. the chilian cavalry was admirably managed, and in several battles it performed a large share of the work; the cavalrymen were well mounted, and understood their business thoroughly, while the peruvians were inefficiently drilled, and their horses were far inferior to those of the chilians. one of the mounted detachments of the peruvian army was surprised and captured during the advance upon lima, and the whole available force of cavalry for the defence of the capital did not exceed six hundred men. [illustration: native women of lima.] frank and fred were quick to remark the difference between the feminine part of the population descended from the spanish conquerors, and those whose ancestry were the native possessors of the land. the complexion was as distinctive as the dress; the spanish race is fair in feature, while the women of peruvian descent have a tinge of copper or bronze in their faces. the latter wear short skirts, and leave the hair uncovered by a veil; sometimes the hair is braided in long tresses, and it is frequently topped with a hat of almost gigantic proportions. many of these native women are excellent riders; they use the ordinary saddle of the cavalier instead of the side-saddle of more northern lands, and wear the peruvian spur. our friends passed a fortnight in lima very pleasantly, making excursions in the neighborhood, and trying the baths at chorillos, where the fashionable population goes for its seaside sports. two days were devoted to a visit to pachacamac, which is in the valley of the lurin river, about twenty miles south of lima, and overlooking the sea. what they saw and did is best told in fred's account of the journey. "we went from chorillos," said fred, "and had a ride that was not particularly pleasant, over the dusty road leading to the seaport of pisco, farther down the coast. between chorillos and the valley of the lurin is a stretch of desert, and the sun beat pitilessly on our heads as we toiled along. reaching the valley, we turned up the banks of the stream, and a short ride near its welcome waters brought us to the place we sought. [illustration: ruins of pachacamac.] "pachacamac is a famous spot in peru, or, rather, it was so in ancient times. its ruins cover a considerable space along a line of hills on the edge of the desert. the sand has drifted over some of the buildings and completely buried them, and we were forcibly reminded of the ruins at thebes, and other places in egypt, not forgetting the grand temples that stood near the pyramids of gizeh. [illustration: head of peruvian statue.] "pachacamac was the sacred city of the inhabitants of this part of the coast before they were conquered by the incas; their chief divinity, whose name is preserved in the city, had his shrine here, and when the incas conquered the place they built a temple of the sun, and a house of the virgins of the sun, quite near the shrine of pachacamac. it was their object to destroy the worship of the old divinity by building a grander temple to the new, but they were not altogether successful. there was an enormous amount of gold and silver used in the construction and adornment of the temples; the spaniards took away twenty-seven _cargas_ of gold (a carga weighs sixty-two and a half pounds), and sixteen thousand ounces of silver, but they were unable to discover the place where four hundred cargas of these metals had been concealed just previous to their arrival. "we had quite a scramble among the ruins, as the walls are considerably broken, and the footing is often very insecure. we visited the shrine of pachacamac, or, rather, the temple which contained it, and then went to the temple near it, erected by the incas. the first is called 'el castillo,' or the temple, and the other is known as mamacuna. the temple is on a hill, or headland, five hundred feet above the ocean, and the front of it extends down to the shore. it has been considerably shaken by the earthquakes, of which there must have been many since the time of its erection, and the wonder is that it is so well preserved. [illustration: terraced space on a hill-top.] "there was evidently a wall around the base of the hill; the slope of the hill was formed into terraces, and its upper part is supported by a terrace thirty-two feet high. in the centre of this upper part was the shrine of the deity, enclosed in a sanctuary which had a door of gold set with precious stones. but if the outside was beautiful, the inside was the reverse, as the spaniards found only an idol of wood there, together with a flat stone where the priests performed their sacrifices. the old historians say that only the priests were allowed to go inside the sanctuary; when the spaniards arrived there was no objection to their entering, as it was believed the deity would strike them dead for their sacrilege. the fact that they were not harmed, but proceeded without hesitation to plunder the place of its wealth, was a serious shock to the faith of these confiding natives. "mr. squier's book contains an excellent description of the place, and we sat down on the top of the hill and read his account of his visit to pachacamac. he says that in ancient times it was the mecca of south america, and pilgrims came here from all parts of the country to worship at the shrine of the divinity who was called 'the creator of the world.' so great was the reverence in which it was held, that these pilgrims were allowed to pass unharmed through tribes and people with whom their own might be at war; the sacredness of their mission was an ample protection. [illustration: peruvian mummies.] "the natural result of this pilgrimage was that there was a large town around the temple, and in course of time many thousands of people died here, and were buried on the consecrated spot. the whole ground, for many acres around the temple, seems to have been one vast cemetery; the soil is dry, and contains a good deal of nitre, which possesses excellent preservative qualities. there are thousands and thousands of what are generally called mummies now lying in this soil, where they have lain for centuries; they were not submitted to any mummifying process, like the bodies of the ancient egyptians, but are preserved by the action of the salts of the earth and the aridity of the atmosphere. "some men who came with us from a sugar plantation in the valley offered to find a grave, and reveal its contents. we assented, and they selected a spot, and began to dig. "we had a suspicion that they had dug in the same place before, and the grave they discovered had been opened many times previously for the benefit of visitors like ourselves. we remember that the same trick is practised in egypt, especially at the temple in the neighborhood of the great pyramids, and saw no reason why it should not be adopted here. with this belief we had less compunction at disturbing the resting-place of the dead than we might have had otherwise. [illustration: sepulchral tower.] "the men dug four or five feet through the dry soil, and then came to a flat stone which they uncovered with great pretence of not knowing how large it was. it was about three feet square, and, perhaps, four inches thick, so that two of them had no difficulty in turning it over. under the stone was a cavity measuring a trifle over a yard each way, and containing two bundles that had little resemblance to the human form. these were lifted out so that we might examine them; the outside wrappings were removed from one of them, and we then found that they covered a human figure, doubled so that the hands were clasped around the knees, and the head rested upon them. our guide said this is invariably the position in which the mummies are found, and they are generally contained in a wrapping of coarse matting made of rushes, and bound with ropes or cords of the same material. [illustration: golden vase found in a tomb.] "it was the custom of the ancient peruvians to bury with their dead the implements to which they were accustomed in life, and this may be taken to indicate their belief in a resurrection. household utensils, combs, needles, wallets, spindles for spinning, knives, fishing-hooks and lines, spools of thread, knitting-needles, toilet articles, spoons, pottery, and many other things are found here, and the same is the case in excavations in other parts of peru. we discovered only a few pieces of pottery and two knives of copper, and then we left the grave to be re-filled, or treated according to the taste of the inhabitants of the place. "the character of the wrappings, and the articles found in the graves, indicate the condition in life of the occupants of this peruvian cemetery. mr. squier says the burial-place at pachacamac contains three series of graves one above the other, indicating that the spot was for a very long while dedicated to sepulture. he opened one of the second series of tombs, which evidently belonged to a family in middle circumstances, neither rich nor poor. "the bodies were all wrapped as i have described, but underneath the covering of coarse rushes were many yards of fine cloth, similar to that which the egyptians placed around their mummies. the tomb contained the bodies of a man, his wife, and two children; the play-things of the children were buried with them, and between the feet of the girl was a dried parrot, which was doubtless her pet. near the bodies were several pieces of pottery, and every pot contained something. one was filled with maize or corn, another with ground-nuts, and the rest with edibles of different kinds. the collection of pots and pans was quite interesting, and revealed some of the domestic ways of the people. [illustration: silver vase.] "you will naturally ask how long these bodies have been lying here where we find them. "the question is easier asked than answered. unfortunately for us, the peruvians had no system of writing, like the ancient egyptians, and therefore there are no records by which we can learn their history. to get at the antiquity of the people we must judge by the traditions that have come down to us and by the effect of time upon the monuments they have left. this enables us to guess at the date of the construction of their temples, and it is proper to remark that the guesses of archæologists who have studied the subject have been very far apart. [illustration: peruvian idol.] "the government of the incas, which the spaniards found and destroyed, is supposed to have existed not less than five hundred years, though some writers give it twice or three times that duration. when the spaniards came here they found nearly all of what is now peru, ecuador, bolivia, and a part of chili united under one form of government, under three great tribes or families: the _aymaraes_, the _chinchas_, and the _huancas_. the first of these, the aymaraes, was the ruling race, and from it came the incas or emperors. they occupied the high lands of peru and bolivia, and were said to have been more advanced in civilization than either of the others; the chinchas dwelt mostly along the coast, while the huancas were scattered through the mountain region between the aymaraes and the chinchas. [illustration: peruvian copper knives.] "gradually the aymaraes conquered the other great tribes, and their system of conquest and colonization is an interesting study. "the tradition is that the tutelary divinity, the sun, sent his own children to instruct and govern the people, who were at war with each other, and had sunk into a condition of barbarism. these children of the sun were manco capac and his sister and wife, mama oello; they appeared first on an island in lake titicaca, and the island was ever afterwards regarded as holy. there are many temples around the lake and on the island to which they descended from heaven; we shall have more to say about these temples at another time. [illustration: ruins on titicaca island.] "from lake titicaca, manco capac travelled northward, carrying a golden staff; during his travels his staff sank into the ground at a certain spot, and there he founded the city of cuzco. manco capac was the first of a long line of powerful kings, who gradually subdued the surrounding people and replaced the old religions with the worship of the sun. they built magnificent temples, forts, and palaces, and the ruins of these works, as they are seen to-day, excite the admiration of every traveller. [illustration: part of temple of the sun, cuzco.] "to appreciate the wisdom of the incas, let us consider their manner of ruling a conquered province. "from cuzco, the capital, there were roads leading to the four cardinal points, and the city was divided into four quarters, which were respectively named, 'north,' 'south,' 'east,' and 'west.' when their armies had reduced a nation or a province, they brought the idols of the conquered people to cuzco, and treated them with every mark of respect. then they summoned the chiefs and their families to the capital, where they showed them every kindness and distinction. when these chiefs had been thoroughly instructed concerning the power of the inca and the spirit of his government, they were sent to their homes, and very often they were restored to their official positions as representatives of the government of cuzco. [illustration: outer wall of fortress of cuzco.] "in the conquered region the taxes were reduced, the poor were cared for, and the language of the empire was taught to the children. they were instructed in the religion of the incas in place of their own, but always with the greatest respect for the old form of worship. [illustration: stones in the wall of cuzco.] "to make sure that there would be no rebellion of the conquered people a colony of eight or ten thousand aymaraes was sent there to live, while a similar number of the subjugated nation was brought to the towns whence these colonists were taken. both of the transferred colonies were given great advantages; they had many privileges of exemption from taxation, received large grants of land, and were made to feel in every way that the transfer had been for their benefit. but while the inca government was liberal it was severe; it was the iron hand under the velvet glove, and when its kindness was refused or the conquered people rebelled they were made to understand, in the most practical manner, that disobedience and rebellion were useless. [illustration: part of wall of fortress.] "the four great divisions of the empire were each governed by a viceroy, appointed by the central power at cuzco; the inhabitants were divided into groups of ten thousand, under a native chief and an inca governor, acting together, and these were again subdivided into groups of one thousand, one hundred, and ten, each having an official who was responsible to the one above him. every man received an allotment of land for the support of himself and family, children were obliged to follow the occupations of their fathers, no one could change his residence without permission, idleness was severely punished, robbers were put to death, those who sinned against religion or the majesty of the inca were burned or buried alive with their families, while their houses were destroyed and their fields devastated. when a province rebelled all the men and boys in it were put to death, and the remainder of the population was scattered. [illustration: peruvian vases.] "there; i've given you quite a lecture on the ancient peruvians, and hope you've not found it dull. of course i realize that a large part of our enthusiasm on the subject comes from our having seen the monuments of this wonderful people, and read and heard of the way they built their nation and extended its power." "'history repeats itself,'" said dr. bronson, as our young friend read the account we have just quoted. "in the descent of the children of the sun we have a repetition of the story of divine origin which has existed in many countries and lands since the beginning of governments. manco capac bears an exceedingly close resemblance to the egyptian osiris, the chinese fohi, the hindoo buddha, and the scandinavian odin. the same idea is preserved to-day in the 'divine right of kings,' which is so often quoted, and in which millions of people have implicit faith." "history is repeated, too, in another way," said frank. "the system of colonization and government under the incas reminds me of what we saw in java, the most successful european colony in the eastern hemisphere. the government of the people by their own chiefs, supervised by an official of the ruling power, the punishment of idleness, and the distribution of land so that everybody can earn a living for himself and family, might almost have been borrowed from the ancient peruvians by the dutch possessors of java and the islands of the malay archipelago." "it is not very likely the dutch troubled themselves about ancient peru," replied the doctor; "they probably formed their system to suit the character of the people they were to govern; and when we remember the natural shrewdness with which their nation is credited we need not wonder that they established such an excellent government. it has its features of severity, like that of the incas, but it has been decidedly beneficial to the subject race." "is the tradition correct that the people were sunk in barbarism when manco capac came on earth?" frank inquired. [illustration: ornaments of peruvian walls.] "it is a pleasant fiction," replied the doctor, "invented by the incas as an excuse for their subjugation of the neighboring provinces and kingdoms. the evidences are that some of the finest monuments of peru are older than the inca empire, and several of the conquered nations were well advanced in civilization, and understood many useful arts and occupations. manco capac began with cuzco, and then with the country a few leagues around it; his rule and that of his descendants was gradually extended until, at the coming of the spaniards, it embraced forty degrees of latitude and a population of ten millions of people. since the spanish conquest the native population has diminished, and there are now little over four millions of inhabitants in the old dominions of the incas." [illustration: ancient palace at huanco.] our friends passed the night at a sugar plantation about two miles from the ruins of pachacamac, and returned the next day to lima. there is now only a small village where once was a large city; the inhabitants are employed on the sugar plantations and in the cultivation of their gardens, which are watered by careful irrigation from the lurin river. the village was burned by the chilians during the late war, and the traces of their devastations will long remain. the inhabitants fled for safety, and some of them never found their way back again to their birth-places. [illustration: doorway cut through a single stone.] pachacamac does not contain the only ruins in the neighborhood of lima. at magdalena, not far from the railway between callao and the capital, is an extensive ruin which was in good condition at the time of the spanish conquest; the material has been taken for building purposes, so that the spot is hardly worth visiting at present. the temple contained an idol known as rimac, whose name is preserved in the river. the idol used to speak, after the manner of the oracles of the egyptian and greek temples, and in exactly the same way; a priest was concealed in the statue, which was hollow, and thus the confiding populace was deceived. the deceptions of paganism were as well known in the new world as in the old. [illustration: central figure over doorway.] there are ruins near chorillos which have also undergone demolition for the sake of their brick and stone, and in the valley of the river chillon, ten miles northwest of lima, is a fortification enclosing a hill about five hundred feet high. there is a wall at the base of the hill, another about half-way up, and a third around a level space at the top, where there is a watch-tower, with several ruined buildings. the upper wall is fourteen feet high and made of stones set in tough mortar. as the ancient peruvians had no knowledge of gunpowder, a fortress of this sort was an excellent protection for a garrison. following up the valley of the rimac, twelve or fifteen miles from lima we come to a side valley which contains the ruins of cajamarquilla. it was a city about three miles square, laid out into streets and blocks and containing many massive walls which the earthquakes have not been able to destroy. the history of this city is not even known in tradition, and the natives shake their heads when inquiry is made concerning it. the ruins were there when the spaniards came to peru. the buildings of this american baalbec were extensive and connected by narrow passages and subterranean vaults, that seem to have been used for storage purposes. the doorways were low and curiously shaped, and there are no signs of windows in the houses. frank and fred desired to visit the place, but as it was said to be the haunt of robbers, and not particularly safe, the idea of an excursion was abandoned. mr. squier had an encounter with a noted robber while inspecting these ruins, but a display of his commission from the government of the united states secured the good-will of the brigand, and the stranger was saved from harm. chapter x. railways over the andes.--from lima to mollendo, arequipa, and lake titicaca.--the chincha islands and the soda deserts.--up the andes by steam.--in a railway carriage fourteen thousand feet above the sea. within the last twenty years peru has made earnest efforts to connect her inland cities with the pacific ocean by means of railways. there are several private lines, the oldest being the short one connecting lima with callao; it was completed in , and has paid handsomely to its projectors. of the lines built by government there are seven in all; five of them are finished and the remainder are in course of construction (or suspension), with considerable uncertainty as to the date of their completion. one of the unfinished lines, the oroya railway, starts from callao, and is intended to connect that seaport with the silver mines of cerro de pasco, by a branch from oroya, and to extend to fort san ramon, or mairo, where it will connect with steamboats on the amazon. it was undertaken by an american contractor under government guarantee; it has cost many millions of dollars, and many other millions will be required before the locomotive can make the journey from callao to mairo and cerro de pasco. at the time our friends were in lima the work was suspended, and dr. bronson learned, in answer to his inquiries, that the terminus was at an insignificant town among the mountains. trains did not run regularly, as there was no business to pay the expenses of running them; the government was waiting for the country to recover from the effects of the war before proceeding with the work. one day there was an opportunity to make an excursion to the terminus, about ninety miles from lima, and the doctor at once arranged for the trip. they were to leave the capital about nine in the morning, spend the night at the terminus, and return early the next day. the programme was carried out to the satisfaction of the wandering trio, as we shall see by referring to fred's note-book. [illustration: deep cutting on a railway.] "we ascended the valley of the rimac," said fred, "and in the first forty-six miles gained an elevation of five thousand feet. we had only two carriages in the train, but the locomotive puffed and tugged as though it was drawing three or four times that number. at every mile of our advance the route became more and more intricate; we passed through narrow gorges and along the brink of fearful precipices, and time and time again we seemed to be in danger of toppling over and falling into the abysses below. we were reminded of the passage of the sierra nevadas by the central pacific railway, in our own country, and of the line between colombo and kandy, in ceylon. "the engineering difficulties here are greater than on either of the routes i have mentioned, and greater than anything we have seen in the european alps. the oroya line is certainly one of the railway wonders of the world, and every visitor to lima should make a point of seeing this enormous work. it is doubtful if the government will ever find it profitable, owing to the great cost of construction and the expense of running the trains. "here are a few figures about this railway. i take some of them from professor orton's book,'the andes and amazon,' and others have been given me by the conductor who accompanies us. "eighty-seven miles of the road had been finished when the war between chili and peru caused a suspension of work. there are sixty-three tunnels, with an aggregate length of twenty-one thousand feet, and there are thirty bridges of iron or stone. some of the bridges are of french or english manufacture, and others, considered the best, were made in america. the verrugas bridge spans a chasm five hundred and eighty feet wide, and rests on three piers of hollow columns of wrought iron. it was made at phenixville, pennsylvania, at a cost of $ , ; the middle pier is two hundred and fifty-two feet high and fifty feet square at its base, and the deflection of the bridge is five-eighths of an inch. "the sharpest curve of the road is feet radius, and the maximum grade is four per cent. while the work was going on they used two hundred and fifty tons of powder every month for blasting the rock! the tunnel to carry the line through the andes is at an elevation of , feet above the sea, the highest railway tunnel in the world, and some say the highest point where a piston-rod is moved by steam. [illustration: among the foot-hills.] "to describe our ride would be to give a long succession of exclamations of wonder, admiration, and enthusiasm, with an occasional sigh of relief when dangerous points were passed without accident. it is quite possible that our cheeks may have paled at times and flushed at others, but of course we could not admit anything of the sort. we were glad when the terminus was reached, and the sensation of the journey was over. "we crawled slowly upward on our eastward way and found it exciting enough; what shall i say of the return ride, when we had the downward grade to take us along, and the only use of the steam in the locomotive was to hold us back? the brakes were screwed tightly down, and so great is the pressure upon them that their shoes must be renewed at the end of every second round trip from callao and back again. in four hours from the terminus we were on the shores of the pacific, and at the end of a journey we shall long remember." two weeks from the time our friends landed at callao they embarked on the southern-bound steamer from that port, having taken their tickets for mollendo. [illustration: guano islands.] the first landing was at pisco, about one hundred miles south of callao, and connected by a short line of railway with the cotton regions of iça. as they approached the port they passed the chincha islands, which have become famous as the place whence millions of tons of guano have been brought to europe and america. frank and fred wished to know something about the guano trade, and the doctor kindly informed them. [illustration: sea-birds at home.] "the guano was deposited here," said dr. bronson, "by the sea-birds, and the accumulations have been going on for thousands of years. no rain falls here, and consequently there was no water to wash the substance away. mixed with the deposits of the birds were their decomposed bodies and eggs, and the bodies of seals; the seals climb to the highest places on the rocks when they are about to die, and as they were very abundant here, it is safe to say that millions of them have died on the chincha islands. guano is of great value as a manure; the ancient peruvians were well aware of its qualities, and by the laws of the incas everybody was forbidden, under pain of death, to land on the islands during the breeding season, and the same penalty was affixed to killing the birds at any time. "the guano deposits were first made known to europe in ," the doctor continued, "through a description by baron von humboldt. he said the islands were covered to a depth of fifty or sixty feet with pure guano; the long ages that had been consumed in the accumulation may be understood when he says that during the three centuries since the coming of the spaniards the growth had been only a small fraction of an inch!" "was it brought to europe in humboldt's time?" one of the youths inquired. "no," was the reply; "the first shipment was made in , and consisted of twenty barrels, which were taken to liverpool. it was tried on a farm near that city, and resulted so favorably that large orders were immediately sent for more. in the following year several cargoes were sent from the islands, and from that time the trade increased rapidly. farmers in europe and america learned the value of guano in making a wonderful increase of the producing power of their fields, and the demand for it became general. "from to nearly three million tons were shipped from the chincha islands, and between and it is estimated that eight millions tons were sent away. in that year the chincha islands were practically exhausted. the peruvians had acted as though they were to last forever as a source of revenue, and the discovery of the great value of the deposits may be considered the cause of the present bankruptcy of the country. they had abolished the taxes and relied upon the chincha islands for all money needed by government, including the immense sums expended in the construction of railways. they appointed agents in london and new york for the sale of the guano, and as long as the business was prosperous, a great many men grew rich out of the transactions. "as the chincha islands gave out other deposits were worked, some on the lobos islands, others on the guanape islands, and others in tarapaca, but none of them are as rich or extensive as was the original source of supply." the youths looked carefully at the islands with their glasses as the steamer proceeded on her course. dr. bronson called their attention to a solitary ship that was lying close to the cliff of one of the islands, and said that in the days of the prosperity of the guano trade there were sometimes a hundred ships receiving cargoes or waiting their turns to be laden. "you observe," said he, "that the sides of the islands are quite bold, and in some places precipitous; ships used to lie close to the shore and receive their cargoes through long chutes or spouts through which the guano was poured from the top of the cliff. the air was full of guano dust, and the men engaged in the work suffered greatly from the dust entering the throat and lungs. ammonia (hartshorn) is an important ingredient of guano; imagine yourselves breathing an atmosphere heavily charged with ammonia, and you can realize the disagreeable features of working on a guano island. [illustration: scene on a coolie ship.] "convicts were employed here, and also coolies from china; the horrors of the coolie trade with peru have never been fully told, and the narration would be most sickening. thousands of the coolies threw themselves into the sea to escape the terrible life on these islands; other thousands died here as a result of their toil, and the number was only kept up by frequent arrivals of ships from macao, the seat of the coolie trade in china." "there are three islands," said fred, "but they do not seem to be large ones. i should judge that the most northerly is the largest, and it is not more than half a mile long by a third in width." "you have estimated very well," was the reply. "the northern island is called chincha, and gives the name to the group, and it is about the length and width you mention. the other two are smaller, but are of the same formation as chincha, a bright red granite composed of red feldspar, white quartz, and a little mica. the group is evidently of volcanic origin, and perhaps it may one day disappear beneath the waves as other volcanic islands have done. "guano can only accumulate where there is no rain," continued their mentor, "and there is another source of wealth here that comes from the rainless district." "what is that?" "it is the nitrate of soda," answered the doctor, "which comes from several desert regions in the southern part of peru, chiefly in the province of tarapaca, which has been annexed to chili since the war, and is peruvian territory no longer. it has many uses in industrial arts, and is largely employed as a fertilizer; the deposits have been worked since , and the chief points of export are iquique and pisagua. in twenty years from the exports were , tons, and in no less than , tons were exported. in there were ships that cleared from iquique alone with cargoes of nitrates. several of the railways constructed by the peruvian government, or on private account, were built partly or wholly for the transportation of this article." the steamer stopped very briefly at pisco, and there was not time to go on shore. from pisco to mollendo they were almost constantly in sight of the coast, and sometimes hugging it closely; the mountains of the western cordillera of the andes filled the eastern horizon, and occasionally the snowy peaks of the great central chain were visible. the principal chain of mountains in south america is called the andes, and sometimes the _nevadas_ (white), to distinguish it from the cordillera (cor-de-_yer_-ra), by which the lateral and lower chains, generally parallel to the andes, are designated. _sierra_ (from the spanish word for saw) is a spur, or irregular line, of mountains stretching from the andes to the cordillera, or pushing out from the latter into the flat _parama_, or desert. [illustration: on the edge of the desert.] mollendo is the ocean terminus of the railway to arequipa and lake titicaca, the present destination of the boy travellers and their elder companion. the town is on the edge of the desert, and the harbor is an open roadstead, like most of the ports of the western coast. an old captain sarcastically remarked, "the harbor of mollendo is entered as soon as the ship turns cape horn." the town is supplied with water by an iron pipe eighty-five miles long, which starts from near arequipa, and is capable of discharging , gallons of water every twenty-four hours. enormous tanks have been constructed, to maintain a supply for several days, in case of accident to the aqueduct, and these tanks are the principal sights of the place. the surf was breaking on the rocky shore, and our friends had a narrow escape from a drenching in going from the ship to the land. fortunately they arrived in the morning, about an hour before the time for the departure of the train for arequipa, and had not long to wait. the railway followed the coast for a short distance, and then turned northeastwardly, and began climbing the hills which formed the outward barrier of the lofty andes. up and onward zigzagged the train, through the barren hills that lead to the desert of islay, and then out upon the dusty stretch of the desert, which it crossed in a line whose directness was in marked contrast to its tortuous course among the hills. at regular intervals there were tanks which supply the locomotives with water; they are fed from the aqueduct already mentioned, and wherever they have leaked, and moistened the dust, the grass grows luxuriantly. it is sixty miles across the desert; before the railway was constructed the journey was made on the backs of donkeys, and it was customary to cross it in the night, in consequence of the great heat and glare when the sun is shining. frank copied into his note-book the following account of a traveller who crossed the desert from the coast to arequipa, which he failed to reach before sunrise: "about five o'clock a clear whiteness appeared in the sky, the stars paled their lustre, and the day began to break. soon a ruddy orange tint spread over the soil of the pampa, now become firm and compact. in a few minutes the disk of the sun appeared above the horizon; and as we marched full in the front of the god of day, we found ourselves in the midst of a luminous torrent, which so dazzled and incommoded us that to escape from this new torture we doubled ourselves up like hedgehogs. this anomalous and inconvenient posture rendered us unjust to the claims of the rising sun. instead of welcoming his appearance we were inclined to wish he had remained out of sight, and it was not till eight o'clock that the sun, now high above the horizon, permitted us to raise our heads." [illustration: indians of arequipa.] "we did not suffer any of this inconvenience," said frank, in his description of the journey, "as we were protected by the carriages, and could take any position we liked. when the sun passed the meridian we could look ahead without receiving the glare in our eyes; it was a great relief when we saw the peaks of the snow-clad mountains, and in a little while the eastern horizon was filled with them. back of arequipa was the lofty summit of misti, one of the grandest of the south american volcanoes, then came chichani, with its precipitous sides, and beyond it, farther to the north, was coropuno. [illustration: arequipa, and the volcano of misti.] "as we entered arequipa ('place of rest') we thought of damascus, to which it has been compared by more than one traveller. like damascus, it stands on the edge of the desert, and, also like that oriental city, it is watered by a river which nourishes its gardens, and creates a spot of living green in the midst of an arid waste. it stands in a valley ten miles long by five in width, but all around the valley is a desert. there is not sufficient water for purposes of irrigation; land that is well irrigated is worth a thousand dollars an acre, as it is wonderfully fertile and produces abundantly. "we spent a day in arequipa, which was a station under the inca government before the city was founded by pizarro, in . at every step we saw traces of the terrible havoc wrought by the earthquake of ; there was not a block without its pile of ruins, and some of the streets reminded us of pompeii, or of old delhi. churches were reduced to a mass of rubbish, the towers of the cathedral were demolished, the university was a heap of ruins, and hundreds of the houses were still unoccupied. "according to the accounts written at the time, the first shock of the earthquake was felt about five o'clock in the afternoon. there was a slight tremor of the ground, which increased at intervals of fifteen or twenty seconds; it was not until fully a minute after the first shock that the buildings began to fall, and consequently the inhabitants had time to escape to the streets. compared with ibarra and other cities, the loss of life was small. the sick in the hospital and prisoners in the _carcel_ were unable to flee, and were buried in the falling ruins, and it was estimated that about three hundred others were killed. before the earthquake the city had a population of not far from fifty thousand; it is now estimated at forty thousand, with the probability of an increase to the old figure in consequence of the revival of commerce by the opening of the railway. "our attention was drawn to the use of galvanized iron for the domes of the buildings in place of stone, which was the material formerly employed. it is thought the next earthquake will have less effect than former ones, since iron can withstand what stone cannot. there is a great scarcity of wood here, or it would be popular in the construction of houses. wooden houses can hold out against earthquakes better than those of more solid materials, as they can be twisted a great deal before falling. the best material i have ever seen for this purpose is a network of bamboo, plastered on both sides to fill the chinks between the poles and withes. [illustration: the old way of travel.] "we asked for the manufactures of arequipa, but we asked in vain. there was formerly a considerable commerce with the interior, but at present there are no industries beyond the trade in alpaca wool which is the support of the city. there are only a few mercantile houses, and these are mostly german or english, and the chief occupation of the inhabitants is to do nothing. we saw only two men displaying anything like activity; they had quarrelled, and one was pursuing the other with a knife in his hand, but though he ran fast he did not overtake his intended victim. "the altitude of arequipa is feet above the sea; the summit of misti, a most picturesque volcano, rises behind the city to a height of , feet, very much as etna rises behind catania. it is now silent, but it was fearfully active in , and is liable again to burst forth as the accompaniment of another earthquake. "the population is as uncertain, politically and socially, as the ground on which their city stands, if we may judge by the frequency with which they indulge in revolutions and insurrections. in three hundred years there have been ten or twelve severe earthquakes and innumerable smaller shocks; in the same time there have been at least a dozen revolts, while plots against the peace and dignity of the state are said to be constantly going on. in the city was bombarded for three days by the president of the republic, who failed to capture it, and it has several times been shaken by war as well as by earthquakes." [illustration: view of lake titicaca.] after their day in this famous city our friends started by railway for punno, on the shore of lake titicaca, two hundred and eighteen miles away. crossing an iron bridge as it left the city, the train soon began to ascend among the desert hills, and through masses of volcanic rock and cinders which gave plain proof that the mighty chichani had not always been as quiet as at present. dr. bronson called the attention of the youths to the magnificent engineering, and the conductor informed them that on this one division of the road the excavations and fillings amounted to ten millions of cubic yards. "they are said to be the deepest cuttings and fillings in the world," said he, "and i certainly have never heard any one say they were not. the deepest cutting is one hundred and twenty-seven feet, and the deepest filling one hundred and forty-one." "and bear in mind," said the doctor, "that this work was performed far up in the mountains, where exertion is very fatiguing, and water boils before it is much more than scalding hot. beans and other articles of food can only be cooked in closed cans to increase the pressure, and consequently the temperature." on and up they went among the mountains, and over the dreary pampas stretching between them, crossing deep ravines, winding around precipices, threading the valleys, darting through tunnels, now on a level with the banks of snow on the sides of the giant mountains, or looking down upon the clouds that rolled at their feet. ten, twelve, thirteen, and fourteen thousand feet of elevation were reached, and at length they halted at vincamayo, , feet above the level of the sea. it is the creation of the railway, with an american hotel, and all the adjuncts of a relay and repairing station. it is the highest village in the world, higher than famous potosi, and higher, too, than cerro de pasco. place another mount washington on the top of the present one, and its summit would be nearly two thousand feet lower than vincamayo. professor orton passed a night at vincamayo; he says he did not sleep, but spent the time in panting for breath. our friends had the same experience with the rarefied air; the least movement caused them to breathe with difficulty, and they wisely refrained from stirring from their places. in a little while the train reached alto del crucero, the highest point of the line, and , feet above the pacific at mollendo. the surrounding land was simply a bog covered with short grass, and sprinkled in places with snow. it affords pasture for alpacas and vicunas, and as they looked from the windows of the carriage and shivered in the chilly atmosphere they saw numerous herds of these animals feeding on the plain. [illustration: the nevada de sorata, crown of the andes.] from the summit the descent was gradual, among hills and over desert plains, passing between two lakes of brackish water, and along the banks of a river that had its source among the clouds. by and by the waters of lake titicaca were in sight, and beyond them rose the grand old peak of the nevada de sorata, sometimes called "the crown of the andes." the train ended its journey at puno, on the shore of the lake, and the three travellers stepped again to the earth, with more than twelve thousand feet of perpendicular distance below them to the level of the sea! chapter xi. puno and lake titicaca.--coca and its properties.--the llama and his kindred.--excursion to the sacred island of the incas. [illustration: view on lake titicaca.] puno is not an attractive spot. lying at a great elevation, it has a cool climate, and its inhabitants pass a good part of the time in trying to keep warm. there are no trees in the neighborhood; before the opening of the railway the only fuel was the dried dung of llamas and other animals, and a small shrub known as tola. the nights are always cold, the thermometer sometimes descending fifteen degrees below the freezing-point, and even touching zero; people retire to bed very early, and remain there till after sunrise, as the best means of escaping the cold. frank and fred were obliged to follow the local custom, in spite of their overcoats and rugs. notwithstanding the severe temperature of the place, the means of warming the houses do not receive much attention. since the railway came, and rendered it possible to have coal, a few stoves have been set up, but they are not in general use. [illustration: peruvian heads, ancient and modern.] nine tenths of the five thousand inhabitants of puno are of the native races; the aymaraes occupy the southern part of the town, and the quichuas the northern, the former being the most numerous. the rest, which includes the wealthier and more intelligent fraction of the population, is made up of people of spanish descent, a few german and english merchants, and two or three american _attachés_ of the railway. puno owed its origin to the rich silver mines in the neighborhood, which were discovered and operated about two hundred years ago. a romantic story is told concerning these mines, and the romance is by no means free from tragedy. jose de salcedo, a spaniard, was in love with an indian girl, and was beloved in return. she revealed to him the secret of the mines, and he worked them with enormous profit; his wealth attracted the attention of the royal officers, who found a pretext for arresting him, and taking him to lima. he was condemned to death, and his property was confiscated to the government, which meant that the officials expected to transfer his wealth to their own pockets. salcedo offered to pay a thousand marks of silver a day if they would wait until he could appeal to the king, but his offer was refused. he was executed in the public square at lima, and the governors proceeded to take possession of his property. he was well liked by the tribe to which his indian maiden belonged, and as soon as the natives heard what had been done they stopped the drains of the mines, and flooded them with water. there is now a small lake over the entrance of the mine, and the indians have ever since refused to give any information concerning the extent of the deposit, or the direction of the veins. these people will keep a secret with the utmost fidelity; torture cannot wring it from them, and they are indifferent to bribes or any other inducement. at the present time they know of rich deposits of silver in various parts of the country, but absolutely refuse to give any information concerning them. [illustration: cathedral of puno.] "the cathedral of puno," said fred, in his note-book, "is the most elevated building of its size in the world. it was begun in , and is an imposing structure, with a specially handsome front; it is at one side of the grand plaza, where every morning is held the market for the sale of provisions. we visited the market the morning after our arrival, and were greatly interested in what we saw and learned there. [illustration: quichua woman (from a photograph).] "most of the sales are managed by women, who sit on the ground in rows stretching away from the fountain in the centre of the plaza, each with little heaps of dried potatoes, fish, _charqui_ (dried beef), peppers, beans, pease, maize, barley, and similar things for sale. each heap has a price fixed for it, and the rise and fall of the market are regulated by the size of the heap, the price remaining the same. pease, beans, and pepper come from the coast, as they do not grow at the altitude of puno; flour is too dear to be used by the lower classes, though it has fallen somewhat since the opening of the railway. beans and pease must be reduced to powder before cooking, at this altitude, and potatoes are frozen, and then dried and pulverized, like the beans and pease. [illustration: coca plant.] "we were guided through the market by one of the english-speaking residents, who called our attention to coca, which was sold as an article of food, in the form of dried leaves. we had already seen the leaves, and heard of their qualities, but this was the first time we had seen them for sale at the side of the usual articles for supplying the table. our informant said that coca possessed wonderful properties; i will give his words as nearly as i can remember them: "'coca is the dried leaf of the shrub _erythroxylon_, and is called _cuca_ by the natives. it grows in the mountainous parts of peru and bolivia, at elevations varying from two to six thousand feet, and is a shrub or small tree about six feet high. its leaves are gathered, and dried in the sun, and are chewed with a little quicklime, in much the same way that the natives of india and the malay regions chew the leaf of the betel or areca palm, and certain americans chew tobacco. its effect is narcotic and stimulating, and the most remarkable stories are told of the endurance of the people who use it. "a peruvian or bolivian indian will travel for days without any sign of weariness, with only a small supply of coca and some dried maize; he chews the coca while walking, and it really seems to be his chief reliance. he will work or travel for twenty or thirty hours continuously, without sleep or rest, if he is allowed plenty of coca; indians have been known to travel seventy miles a day for three days with no other sustenance than this article. in the silver mines, where the employers feed their laborers, they limit the quantity of other supplies, but give the indians all the coca they want.' "i asked if there were no unpleasant after-effects from the use of this drug, as in the case of opium and other narcotics. "'unhappily there are,' was the reply, 'but they are usually less serious than in the case of opium. sometimes the habit increases to such a degree that the stomach cannot retain other food, and there is a constant craving for coca. the system cannot be sustained by this stimulant alone; the victim is reduced to a skeleton, becomes feverish and restless, and ultimately dies in consequence of his passion. but, as far as i have been able to learn since my residence in the country, the deaths from coca are not near as numerous, in proportion to those who use it, as those from opium, in china and other parts of the far east? "dr. bronson said that an extract or alkaloid of coca, called cocaine, had recently come into use in europe and america as an anæsthetic, for operations on the eye, and other sensitive parts of the human organization. the patient is fully conscious of what is going on, but does not experience the least pain. its properties as a local anæsthetic were discovered in , by dr. koller, of vienna; and it is freely used by oculists in new york and elsewhere. it is a very costly substance, being worth some hundreds of dollars an ounce, but the quantity used for paralyzing the nerves of the eye during an operation is surprisingly small. one or two drops of a solution containing from two to four per cent. of cocaine are generally sufficient for a short operation, and twice or three times that quantity, at intervals of five or ten minutes, for a longer one. "thirty million pounds of coca are annually consumed in south america. the finest is grown in the yungas district, in bolivia, where it is cultivated somewhat as tea is cultivated in china. its properties were known to the ancient peruvians, and it was used in their religious ceremonies; it received divine honors, and under some of the incas its use was reserved for the nobility. even at this day the indians sometimes put coca in the mouths of their dead, just as the ancient greeks placed an obolus in the mouth of a corpse to insure its ferriage over the styx. the miners of peru throw quids of coca against the veins of silver, under the belief that it causes them to be more easily worked. [illustration: llama.] "so much for coca. another curiosity of puno is the large number of llamas we see in the streets, either running at large or used as beasts of burden. the llama, guanaco, alpaca, and vicuna were 'the four sheep of the incas,' according to professor orton; the first clothing the common people, the second the nobles, the third the royal governors, and the fourth the incas. llamas and alpacas are domesticated; guanacos and vicunas are wild. they all go in flocks, and, in their wild state, one of their number always keeps watch; if danger threatens he stamps his feet, and gives the alarm, and it must be a very swift pursuer that can overtake them. "the four animals belong to the same family, and some naturalists say the llama is nothing more than the domesticated guanaco. the llama is found all through south america, from northern peru to the strait of magellan; it has been well described as having the head of a camel, the body of a deer, the wool of a sheep, and the neigh of a horse. it prefers a cold climate to a warm one; in the torrid zone it lives at a high elevation, while on the cool plains of patagonia, near the level of the sea, it is found in great numbers. in patagonia it is not domesticated, but in peru, bolivia, and chili it is used as a beast of burden; it is about three feet high at the shoulder, and its head five feet when the animal stands erect. it can carry a burden of not more than a hundred pounds, lives on very scanty food, endures cold without suffering, and requires no drink as long as it can find succulent herbage. the pens where the animals are shut up at night have no shelter against the cold winds, which they do not mind in the least, and they are said to require very little care from one year's end to another. [illustration: ancient gateway near puno.] "those that we saw in the streets seemed to have things their own way, and to be indifferent to the presence of men; but when we tried to approach one he refused our acquaintance and walked away. when angry the llama stamps his feet, and ejects a saliva that causes a burning sensation if it falls on the unprotected skin; we did not care to make the experiment, and therefore refrained from irritating one of the animals. "the alpaca is not used as a beast of burden, but is reared for its wool flesh, and skin, especially the former. you know that the alpaca wool is fine; so is that of the vicuna, which closely resembles the alpaca. the wool of the llama is about six inches long, and its fleece often weighs ten pounds. the llama is interesting from being the only native domesticated animal in south america. the horse, ox, sheep, hog, and all other animals useful to man, came from other countries. "the principal sport of some parts of south america, especially of patagonia, is the chase of the llama or guanaco. the hunters go on horseback or on foot, and 'stalk' their game by moving slowly towards them, being always careful not to alarm the animals. in this way they may get near enough for a shot with their rifles, but very often the guanacos are wary, and decline close acquaintance. every hunter who can afford it keeps a lot of dogs trained to the chase, and it is interesting to see how well they understand their work. "if the guanacos are grazing singly on the plains the chances of overtaking them are doubtful, even for the swiftest and strongest dogs. but when a herd is being chased each animal tries to crowd into the centre of it, and so much confusion is caused that the aggregate speed is considerably diminished. knowing this, the dogs are always eager to pursue a herd, while they look with indifference upon a solitary guanaco." [illustration: the vicuna.] when the subject of llamas and their kindred was under discussion, frank suggested that it would be a good plan to introduce the llama into the united states, and wondered why it had not been done. visions of a llama stock company filled his mind, but they were dispelled by dr. bronson, who said the experiment had been tried, and was a failure. "when was it made?" the youth inquired. "in ," was the reply; "and the singular fact is that the difficulty in adapting the llama to our country is that the food he obtains is too good for him. what we give to our cattle and sheep does not seem to agree with him; he prefers inferior grasses, together with pea-vines, bean-stalks, straw, and such things, which our cattle would starve upon; and where he has been turned out to graze in low regions he invariably suffers from disease of the skin. in somebody shipped seventy-two of these animals from peru to new york; only thirty-eight lived to reach the city, and were wintered on a farm on long island. in the spring those that remained were sold for museums and menageries, and some of them were sent to australia. it is quite possible that the llama would thrive on the great plains between the missouri river and the rocky mountains; the only difficulty would be in protecting the herds from the lawless hunters until they had become sufficiently numerous and wild to take care of themselves as the antelopes do." [illustration; indians and llama among the ruins.] after a glance at the town, with its open market and massive cathedral, our friends strolled to the shore of the bay on which puno is built. it is a sluggish body of water, fringed all around with _tortora_ or rushes, which grow profusely, and serve many purposes. they are used for making baskets, lining the walls of houses, filling beds, thatching roofs, and in other ways are of material advantage to the inhabitants of the region bordering the lake. they are an important item of fuel, though they burn too quickly to give off much heat; cattle feed upon these rushes, and as our friends stood on the shore of the bay they saw cows and oxen in the water nearly up to their backs, making their breakfasts on tortora. [illustration; cattle feeding on rushes, lake titicaca.] some distance out from the shore a steamboat was lying at anchor. the guide said there were two steamboats on the lake, but the shallowness of the water prevented their coming up to puno; they were obliged to communicate with the land by means of small boats, which were rowed or pushed along the narrow channel through the bed of reeds. these steamboats were placed on the lake before the construction of the railway; they were brought in pieces on the backs of mules, and put together on the shore. other steamboats were promised, and it was expected that the railway would lead to a considerable commercial development which might require a dozen boats in the next decade. lake titicaca is about one hundred and twenty miles long by fifty or sixty in breadth, and its greatest measurement is nearly north and south. it stands in an immense basin, roughly estimated to be six hundred miles long by two hundred broad, or three times the area of the state of new york. it receives several large streams, and discharges into lake aullagas; the latter lake has not been carefully surveyed, and though our friends made diligent inquiry they could learn very little about its size, or the nature and direction of its outlet. the lake is very deep in places; it never freezes over, but ice forms sometimes in the bays and shallow places. [illustration: tortora bridge over the outlet of lake titicaca.] arrangements were made for a trip on the lake to visit titicaca and coati islands, for an inspection of the monuments of the incas and their predecessors. through the influence of the officials to whom he brought letters of introduction, dr. bronson engaged the steamboat for a moderate compensation, which included the wages and board of the crew, but left the passengers to take care of themselves. a supply of canned and other provisions was readily obtained from a merchant of puno, and in a few hours the party was under way. the captain wanted to wait until the next morning, but the doctor realized that one delay would be an excuse for another, and wisely insisted upon leaving the same afternoon. [illustration: head-dress of aymara women.] while they were waiting for the small boat to carry them to the steamer frank made a sketch of the head-dress of one of the aymara women who was looking on at their proceedings. it had a cap fitting close to the head, and held in place by strings under the chin; near the top of the cap was a horizontal piece of stiff pasteboard, oval in shape, and extending far out from the head on every side. around the edge was a valance of black silk, or some similar material, which partially protected the face of the wearer from the sun and wind. it was not unlike a small parasol in appearance, and has been worn here from time immemorial. the rest of the dress of the aymara women includes a gown of blue, brown, or black material, and a shawl which is fastened at the neck with a large pin, shaped somewhat like a spoon. sometimes a handkerchief is fastened around the neck, but it is rarely worn except on gala days. [illustration: aymara men, puno.] the aymara men wear short trousers, very broad in the legs, and incase their feet in sandals, or shoes of rawhide. they wear ponchos over their shoulders, and on their heads they constantly have skull-caps, which are covered, when out of doors, with broad hats of braided grass. men and women keep the hair long; it is invariably black, except in extreme age, when it assumes the frost that never melts, like the hair of people in other parts of the world. [illustration: aymara woman, puno.] though living side by side for centuries the aymaraes and quichuas preserve their distinctness, rarely associating, and never uniting in marriage. the aymaraes hold their market at puno in the plaza in front of the cathedral, as already described, but the quichua market is held in another square. a quichua woman can be distinguished from an aymara one at a glance, as she is without the remarkable head-covering, but the dress of the men has only some slight points of difference, that cannot be observed by a stranger. the aymaraes are thought to represent an older race than the quichuas; the men are larger and more powerful, but the women are less inclined to good looks. though the two people remain distinct they are perfectly friendly, and their huts are often quite near each other. in their resistance to the spanish conquest they made common cause, and in every revolt against their oppressors they have fought side by side. both are grave, dignified, silent, and sad, and as we look at them they seem to be musing over the misfortunes of the last three centuries, and the degradation that has followed the occupation of their land by the avaricious invaders. these musings of frank and fred were cut short by the announcement that the boat was ready. pushing along the tortuous channel through the reeds they made slow progress; but all journeys have an end, and in due time they reached the steamboat. steam was already up, and as soon as the party was on board, with its belongings, the paddles were put in motion, and the prow turned in the direction of titicaca island. [illustration; a ride on a balsa, lake titicaca.] lake titicaca is the largest body of water on the surface of the globe at an elevation exceeding twelve thousand feet, and probably the most elevated lake navigated by steam. before the introduction of steamboats the only mode of water transit was upon balsas, or rafts, made of the tortora or rushes already mentioned; the lake is liable to be swept by sudden winds, and the party who ventures upon it in one of these frail craft runs a good chance of a wetting. the steamboats have not by any means driven the balsa from the lake, but they have rendered it less obligatory on strangers to trust themselves to its limited accommodations and its certainty of discomfort. it was after dark when the steamer reached titicaca island, and ran into a little bay where there was a shelter from the wind. as nothing could be seen on the land, during the night, it was decided to sleep on board, and make an early visit to the shore in the morning. the doctor and the youths made a hearty supper from their provisions and some hot tea, and then spread their beds on the floor of the cabin, which had no berths or other sleeping accommodations. several balsas came from shore in the morning, and afforded means for landing on the sacred island of peru. titicaca island is about six miles long by four in width; it is high and rugged, and the shores are deeply indented in many places. it contains the ruins of a temple of the sun, a palace of the incas, and several other buildings, which have sadly gone to decay. frank and fred ascended the steep acclivity at the landing-place, closely followed by the doctor, and were soon at a little village near by, where they obtained a guide to show them through the ruins. [illustration: closed doorway, titicaca island.] near the village there were the remains of a building; tradition says it was the place where pilgrims to the sacred islands were required to remain for several days after their arrival in order to go through certain ceremonies of purification. there was a broad platform in front of the building, the latter being divided into two parts, measuring thirty-five feet one way by twenty-seven the other. the upper part of the walls had fallen, but the lower portion was well preserved. the walls were of limestone, carefully cut, and set in tough clay, which seems able to resist the ravages of the climate. [illustration: palace of the inca.] about half a mile from the landing-place is "the palace of the inca" on a cliff overlooking the lake. its walls are broken at the top, but enough remains to show the style of the ancient architecture, and the forms of the windows and doorways. frank wondered that the earthquakes had not destroyed the palace long ago; the doctor said this part of bolivia is rarely visited by disturbances of the earth, the whole basin of titicaca being singularly free from them. the home of the south american earthquake is practically confined to the western side of the andes. [illustration: bath of the inca.] near the palace they were shown "the bath of the inca," at the base of a hill which was evidently terraced at great expense. the walls of the terraces were made of cut stone, and the whole work was laid out with the skill of a surveyor. here the incas had their gardens, but the ground is not now cultivated, and little more than the terraces remain to show what it once was. the bath is a tank or basin of stone about five feet deep, and measuring twenty feet by forty on its surface. vines and other plants grow over the walls, and at one end of the tank there are three streams of water each about two inches in diameter. the sources of these streams is unknown; they come through subterranean channels, and are flowing to-day exactly as they flowed during the time of the incas and their imperial splendor. [illustration: room in the inca's palace.] at the farther end of the island is the sacred rock of manco capac, but there is little to be seen there except a high wall surrounding a natural dome of sandstone. the doctor did not think the sight would compensate for the time and fatigue of the journey, and the stone was left to take care of itself. the youths consoled themselves by studying the engraving in mr. squier's work and reading the tradition concerning the rock. [illustration; the sacred rock of manco capac.] it was here that manco capac is said to have descended to earth, and down to this day the natives approach the place with great reverence. it was formerly believed that no bird would alight upon it, and no animal would dare to set his foot there. the presence of mortal man was forbidden. it was here that the sun rose to dispel the mists around the mountains and over the land, and for many years none but the priests could even come within sight of the rock. at one time it was plated with gold and silver and covered with a veil, which was never removed except on the occasion of religious festivals. the sloping sides of the hill crowned by the rock are terraced and walled off into platforms; these platforms contain the remains of small buildings, which are supposed to have been the residences of the priests and attendants upon the worship of the founder of the line of incas. there was formerly a garden on the terraces, and the earth for its construction was said to have been brought on the backs of men a distance of four hundred miles! doubtless the work of the incas was performed under the same oppression as that of the rulers of ancient egypt. the latter built the pyramids by the unpaid labor of their subjects; the former terraced the rugged sides of titicaca island, and erected their temples and palaces with little thought of the lives that were lost in the toil. the history of the old world is repeated in the new. [illustration: ground-plan of "palace of the inca," titicaca island.] chapter xii. coati island and the ruins of tiahuanaco.--return to puno.--cuzco, and the temples, palaces, and fortresses of the incas.--plans for departure. [illustration: bridge and custom-house at the frontier.] the party spent the day on titicaca island, examining the ruins which attested the power of the incas and their predecessors, and studying the magnificent views that were presented in almost every direction. in the east lay the andes of bolivia, while to the west was the chain of the cordillera they had crossed on their way from the coast to puno. lake titicaca lies between peru and bolivia, the western shore belonging to the former country, and the eastern to the latter. the outlet of the lake is the dividing-line, and at each end of the bridge which crosses the river there is a custom-house, where officials of the respective countries are stationed. the bridge is built on rafts, or balsas, made of the reeds growing in the lake; the footway is composed of these reeds, and supported by the balsas beneath it. they returned to the steamboat at nightfall, and gave orders for the captain to move to coati island, about six miles distant, as soon as daylight permitted. weary with their tramp, they slept soundly; when they waked in the morning the steamer was at anchor at its destination, and as soon as breakfast was over they went on shore. titicaca island was specially consecrated to the sun, while coati was dedicated to the moon. the former is steep and rugged; the latter is only moderately elevated, and capable of cultivation from one end to the other. it is about half as large as titicaca island, and is occupied by a few families of indians, who cultivate potatoes and other things, and look after a flock of sheep which is pastured there. judging by the appearance of the sheep, frank and fred were of opinion that the pasture was a good one. [illustration: ruins on coati island.] coati contains a temple of the moon and a palace of the virgins; both are greatly ruined, but sufficiently preserved to indicate their original extent and character. near the ancient landing-place there are gates, and temples of purification similar to those on titicaca island, and doubtless used for the same purposes. about midway of the island is the principal group of ruins, and our friends spent several hours in examining the walls and terraces, and studying what is left of the architecture of the buildings. only the lower story of the edifice remains; the upper part appears to have been made of wood, and disappeared long ago. an inner court of the building is now used by the indian shepherds as an enclosure for their sheep at night, and when frank and fred entered it one of the guardians of the flock was driving his charges out to pasture. according to tradition, this court-yard was the corral where the sacred llamas and vicunas were kept in the days of the incas; from their wool the royal garments and the hangings of the temple were made, by the women who inhabited the palace near by. the temple is elevated some distance above the lake; between the temple and the edge of the water the ground slopes off in a series of terraces carefully built of stone. each terrace has a wall about breast-high around its edge, and a person walking there ran no risk of falling down the declivity. from one terrace to another there is a series of stone steps, so that the ascent and descent were easy. sitting on the front of the upper terrace the travellers mused upon the scenes of the past, and endeavored to picture the appearance of the island in the days when the incas were in the height of their power, and the temples were crowded with pilgrims from all parts of the empire. "these temples and palaces," said the doctor, "are by no means the finest monuments of the ancient peruvians in the titicaca basin. a little beyond the southern extremity of the lake is the village of tiahuanaco, where the ruins are far more extensive than on either of the islands." "mr. squier calls tiahuanaco the baalbec of america," said fred. "to judge by his description of the remains he found there, the name is well merited." frank had not yet read the account which mr. squier gives of his visit to the spot. at his request fred made a brief synopsis of the story. "on his arrival," said fred, "he was impressed with the great number of finely cut stones that were built into the rudest edifices, or were used for pavements. the church is mainly constructed of them, and the cross in front of it stands on an ancient stone pedestal, which far surpasses it in the excellence of its workmanship. on all sides are the relics of antiquity adapted to the uses of the present time; tiahuanaco has been used as a quarry, from whence have been taken the finely cut and polished stones for building all the churches and villages of the valley, and even for the roads and bridges. [illustration: indians celebrating the chuno, or potato festival.] "he happened to arrive at the time the indians were engaged in celebrating the _chuno_, or potato festival; they were dancing in the public square, beating on drums or tambourines, and wearing head-coverings that resembled enormous umbrellas. each group of men was accompanied by several female dancers, the latter wearing hats with broad, stiff brims, and ornamented above the brims with semicircular representations of the rays of the rising sun, that closely resembled an open fan. there were three of these semicircular pieces above the brim of the hat, and each of the dancers wore a scarf over the left shoulder; the scarf was of variegated colors, but the rest of the costume was blue. [illustration: head-dress of indian female dancers.] "the dance was kept up all day and all night, and, as the whole population took part in the festival, it was impossible for mr. squier to hire the laborers he desired to assist in making his explorations. the festival is a curious mingling of the customs of the ancient peruvians and of the modern church; it was under the control of the priests of tiahuanaco, and the ceremonials were so closely blended that it was impossible to draw a dividing-line between them. the chuno dates far back before the conquest by the spaniards, and it is probable that the early settlers found it to their advantage to combine it with some of their own ceremonials. "the ruins are about fifteen minutes walk from the village, and cover an area of two or three miles. they are on a level plain, and consist of several mounds of earth, one of them larger than any of the others, and the remains of numerous buildings and enclosures. the most conspicuous part of the ruins is about a mile square, and includes the large mound just mentioned. [illustration: plan of part of ruins of tiahuanaco.] "this mound is generally called 'the fortress,' and was originally terraced, each terrace being supported by a massive wall of cut stones, and the top of the mound covered with stone structures of which considerable portions are in their original places. close by the mound are the ruins of a building or enclosure known as 'the temple,' which was feet long by feet wide. the stones composing it are sunk into the ground like gate-posts; the part that appears above the earth varies from nine to fourteen feet in height, and the blocks are about thirty inches thick. mr. squier calls this enclosure 'the american stonehenge,' from its resemblance to stonehenge, one of the famous monuments of england. [illustration: the american stonehenge.] "scattered in the vicinity are many highly finished stones, which seem never to have been placed in the walls for which they were intended." "how much like baalbec!" exclaimed frank. "you remember we found the people using the stone from the temple for constructing their buildings, and the greatest stone of all was in the quarries, and not quite detached from the bed where it was hewn." "yes," chimed in the doctor, "and we may compare this peruvian tiahuanaco to the egyptian thebes and karnak. what we find here is very much like what we found in those old cities of the east." "but i'm coming to a still closer comparison to thebes and baalbec," said fred. "you remember the great stones of baalbec, and how much we wondered at them?" frank nodded assent. [illustration: front view of monolithic doorway.] "well, here in peru," was the reply, "we find there was a doorway made of a single stone, which is still standing, though it has been broken by an earthquake, or by lightning--the natives say by the latter. here are the figures of its measurement, as given by mr. squier: "thirteen feet five inches long, seven feet two inches high above the ground, and eighteen inches thick. through the centre is a doorway, four feet six inches high, and two feet nine inches wide. the upper part is carved with figures in low relief, much like the sculpture we saw in egypt, and mr. squier says he does not believe there is a finer piece of cutting in the same kind of stone on this or any other continent. [illustration: symbolical slab.] "in another enclosure is a horizontal slab of stone about fourteen feet square, with a deep cutting in the centre, which is supposed to have something to do with the religious observance of the people who made it. the building that contained it was constructed of blocks of stone fourteen feet long, and of corresponding depth and thickness, and all the work was performed with great care." frank asked what the peruvians used for hewing the stone of which these buildings were made. "as far as we can learn," replied the doctor, "they were unacquainted with iron or steel; they were familiar with bronze, and some implements of this metal have been found. they had no knowledge of gunpowder, or other explosives, and it is not at all probable that they had any other power than that of men. the blocks found at tiahuanaco must have been brought a considerable distance; they are of red sandstone, slate-colored trachyte, and dark basalt, none of which are found in the vicinity. there are cliffs of red sandstone about fifteen miles away, while the other stones are not less than forty miles distant. the conclusion is inevitable that the huge blocks in the ruins were transported from the cliffs i have mentioned." "egypt again," said frank. "the stone for the great pyramids was carried across the nile from the present site of cairo, and the red granite blocks at thebes, sakhara, and other places were floated down on boats or rafts from the first cataract of the nile." [illustration: terrace walls and scattered blocks of stone.] the conversation was brought to an end by a proposal from the doctor to descend the terraces to the shore of the lake, and return to the steamer. with a few slips and falls they made their way down the broken stairways, and were soon at the edge of the water. a balsa was obtained from one of the indians, and as there was no wind blowing they made the trip over the water without mishap. just at sundown they anchored as near puno as the steamer could go; the row-boat was waiting for them at the anchorage, and, after a tortuous passage among the reeds, as before, they were back again at their starting-point. the morning after their arrival was naturally devoted to a discussion of plans for continuing their journey. frank and fred wished to visit cuzco, the ancient capital of the incas. their journey to titicaca island had roused their interest in the antiquities of peru, and they wished to learn more about them. dr. bronson said it would not be feasible for them to go to that city in the time they had at their disposal, as the distance was long and the roads were primitive. "it is more than two hundred miles," said he, "from puno to cuzco; the route is not practicable for wheeled vehicles, and i think we are hardly enthusiastic enough to undertake the journey on mules or horses, for the sake of seeing the remains of the inca empire." the youths agreed with him, but determined to inform themselves concerning the sights of the ancient capital of peru. the doctor went out to make arrangements for their departure from puno, and was gone two or three hours. by reading the descriptions at hand, and from subsequent conversations with persons who had been at cuzco, they prepared the following: [illustration: remains of palace at cuzco.] "after manco capac founded the temples on titicaca island he went north and founded the city of cuzco. it is in a beautiful valley, elevated about eleven thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is said to have at the present time not far from fifty thousand inhabitants. it has a large square in the centre, and the streets cross each other at right angles. there are many fine buildings in cuzco, but they are mostly of modern construction; the old dwellings of the people exist no longer, but some of the temples were converted into churches and convents. a few of the ancient gateways were kept by the conquerors, and occasionally a doorway and part of the wall of a house have been reserved for modern uses. [illustration: inca doorway, cuzco.] "the great square of the ancient city was practically the _plaza mayor_ of the modern one, though a portion of it has been built upon. two small rivers running through ancient cuzco were enclosed between high walls and crossed by bridges formed of projecting stones; some of these bridges are still in use, and the walls have not been displaced. modern engineers say the walls could not easily be improved, and the fact that they have stood unharmed through centuries shows their substantial character. at intervals there are steps leading down to the water, and some of them have been deeply worn by the many thousands of feet that have trodden there. [illustration: old bridge at cuzco.] "the city was on rough ground, and its builders were obliged to make many terraces and remove inequalities in order to provide suitable sites for their structures. in building their terraces they constructed walls of the kind known as 'cyclopean,' and many of these walls form the lines of the streets of to-day. we will explain that a 'cyclopean' wall is made of stones of irregular shape and size, but all carefully fitted together, like the scraps that form the pattern of a so-called 'crazy-quilt.' the resemblance to the inca architecture in these walls and in many other things is very noticeable, but there is no reason to suppose that the two systems had a common origin. [illustration: court of convent, with ancient fountain.] "the convent of santa catalina was established on the site of the palace of the virgins of the sun; the nuns of the modern edifice may be said to replace the vestals of the old. part of the walls of the old palace were retained, and enough remains of the building to indicate its character very distinctly. the church and convent of santo domingo occupy the temple of the sun, but the greater part of the walls have fallen, and the present structure is without shape or intelligible design. inside the court-yard is preserved the fountain of the incas, which ornamented the ancient temple, but in these latter times has been consecrated to baptismal purposes by the church. [illustration: church and convent of santo domingo, cuzco.] "and what do you suppose was once on the site of the great cathedral of cuzco? "it was here that the eighth inca of peru erected a building dedicated to the festivals of the people; it was so large that the ancient chronicles say a whole regiment could exercise beneath its roof. in this building the troops of gonzalez pizarro barricaded themselves for a battle with the peruvians, which was to decide the fate of their campaign; it was the last hope of the invaders, who had encountered unexpected resistance, and defeat was equivalent to death. "the battle was won by the spaniards, and the inca power was broken forever. according to a legend sculptured over the doorway, st. james descended from heaven, on a milk-white horse, and took part in the contest for the overthrow of the heathen dominion and the establishment of christianity in south america. [illustration: terra-cotta figures, cuzco.] "a curious circumstance connected with the antiquities of peru is the extreme rarity of statues of stone or other material. some have been found, but not many; in cuzco there are a few figures in terra cotta and also in stone, but probably not twenty in all. the few that exist are quite rude in character, and not at all comparable to the admirable works of art which abounded in ancient egypt. two stone figures representing animals in a sitting posture were taken from the ruins of the garden of the sun; they are each about twenty-four inches high, and the shape of the pedestals seems to indicate that they were originally placed on the coping of a wall. if the sculptor made a true representation of his model, it is easy to believe that the animal could walk down his own throat without difficulty. [illustration: ancient stone sculpture, cuzco.] "cuzco was defended by a fortress on a high hill just in the rear of the city. the fortress was a remarkable piece of work, and is said to have been built in the twelfth century; it held the same relation to cuzco that 'the rock' does to gibraltar, or the acropolis did to athens. it consists of terraces near the summit of the hill, seven hundred and sixty-four feet above the grand square of the city, and of zigzag roads leading from below. all the roads are made so that they can be easily defended; the terraces are three in number, and have a total height of sixty feet. [illustration: section of walls of the fortress.] "military men who have examined the fortress say that the walls were constructed quite in accordance with the best engineering science of modern times; on its only assailable side the walls are provided with salients, so that every point could be covered by a parallel fire from the weapons of the defenders. the walls are composed of immense blocks of blue limestone, and each salient has one of these at its end. in some places the great stones are piled one above the other; one stone, twenty-seven feet high, fourteen broad, and twelve in thickness, lies upon another of almost the same dimensions. blocks measuring fifteen feet in length, twelve in width, and ten in thickness are common in the outer walls! "turn to the description of the temple of the sun, at baalbec, and see how much the work of the peruvians resembles that of the people of ancient palestine. "some of these stones were hewn from the hill not far from where they are found, while others were brought from the cliffs three fourths of a mile away. in the quarries at the cliffs there are several stones partly hewn, and there are two roads still to be traced, along which the blocks were drawn. the evidences are that the stones were roughly cut at the quarries, then drawn along the roads, and fitted in their places on arriving at the fortress. [illustration: salient angle of fortress.] "to have a realizing sense of the size of the stones used in building the fortress of cuzco, look at the picture of one of the salient angles of the wall, and the figure of the man leaning against it. consider the man to be of ordinary stature, and you can readily compute the height of the stone. [illustration: road leading to fortified hill.] "in the neighborhood of cuzco there are many other remains of palaces, temples, and fortresses, but we have said enough to give you an idea of what the ancient peruvians left behind them. in some of the native villages the houses are the same that were inhabited four or five hundred years ago; the roofs have been renewed, but the walls remain unchanged. in many instances the natives have erected hovels by the side of the ancient houses, through their unwillingness to take the trouble to renew the roofs, which had been destroyed by time and the elements. [illustration: ancient dwelling-house.] "the roads which the incas built have been mostly allowed to go to decay, by their successors, though some parts of them are still in use. the new ones are far inferior to the old, and nothing better demonstrates the slovenly character of the invaders than a comparison of their wretched paths through the mountains with the paved tracks of the original possessors of the land. the spaniards came in search of gold, and did not intend remaining; circumstances kept them here, but they were always looking for a speedy return to their native land, and made no effort to improve or even to preserve what they found on their arrival. their descendants are still searching for treasures among the palaces of the incas, and a visitor to the ruins in and around cuzco can see, almost any day, men digging among the rubbish for the gold which is supposed to be concealed there." [illustration: specimen of cyclopean wall.] as the youths finished their account of the wonderful city of cuzco and its surroundings, the doctor returned from his walk. they read to him what they had written; he gave his approval, with an intimation that it might be dull reading to some of their schoolmates, but was a necessary part of a narrative of travels in peru. fred suggested that anybody who did not like it was at liberty to skip a few pages, till he reached something more interesting. frank was of the same opinion, and with this the manuscript was folded and laid away. "i cannot obtain very definite information about the route we are to travel," said dr. bronson, "as i can find nobody who has been over it. bolivia is without good roads, and though several plans have been proposed and undertaken for making them, they have not amounted to much. we shall have a rough journey, but i think we may get through without accident or detention. "we are to cross lake titicaca," continued the doctor, "and enter bolivian territory. i have engaged a man to accompany us as far as we wish him to go; he knows a part of the region we are to traverse, though not all of it, but thinks he can learn enough as he goes along. our route will be through northern bolivia, past the base of sorata, the grand mountain we have admired so much, and then down the eastern slope of the andes till we reach the waters of the beni river. "the beni is a tributary of the madeira, and the madeira flows into the amazon. when we leave puno to-morrow our watchword will be, "to the amazon!" [illustration: ancient sun circle, sillustani, peru.] chapter xiii. leaving puno.--crossing lake titicaca.--resources of bolivia.--silver mining.--primitive lodgings.--beginning the journey to the eastward. it was the intention of our friends to leave puno on the morning following the conversation recorded in the last chapter, but there was a slight hitch in their plans. manuel, the guide who had been engaged to accompany them, said it was advisable to purchase provisions and other necessaries before starting, as there was doubt about finding them along the road. acting under his advice, a day was spent in the shops, and another in putting the articles into packages suitable for mountain travel. when all was completed it was found that the steamboat was absent on a trip up the lake, and another day was lost in waiting for her. on the fourth morning everything was ready, and the baggage was sent on board in charge of manuel. the travellers said good-bye to their american acquaintance, who regretted he could not accompany them; they were equally sorry he could not do so, as they had found him a most agreeable and intelligent companion during their stay. a foreigner in an interior town of south america has a dreary existence, and welcomes with delight the advent of a countryman. just as they were leaving the landing-place they were introduced to the manager of one of the silver mines in the neighborhood of puno, who was about crossing the lake on business connected with his enterprise. acquaintance is quickly made under such circumstances, and the time of the voyage passed quickly in the society of this intelligent gentleman. [illustration: tanatero (ore-carrier).] "the silver mines of peru," said he, "are yielding very little at present, owing to bad management and slovenly methods, and the same is the case with the mines of bolivia. during the last two and a half centuries the mines of peru alone have yielded five hundred million dollars worth of silver; the mines near puno are famous in history, and are enormously rich, but for a long time little has been done beyond reducing by modern processes the refuse of the old miners. when the country becomes tranquil, and capital can be securely invested, the mines will be reopened, american and other machinery introduced, and the world can again be supplied with silver from the andes. "potosi, in bolivia, is probably the richest silver region of south america and of the whole world, but its mines are now almost neglected. in the seventeenth century the city had more than a hundred thousand inhabitants, while it has barely twenty-five thousand to-day. between and the mines of potosi yielded one thousand million dollars' worth of silver, but of late years the product has not exceeded two and a half millions annually. the word 'potosi' signifies 'an eruption of silver,' and the place is certainly well named. it is in a province of the same name, which produces also gold, copper, iron, lead, tin, quicksilver, zinc, antimony, and other minerals, but silver is its principal yield. [illustration: section of a silver mine.] "potosi suffers for lack of modern methods, as much as do the mines of peru and other south american countries; nearly all the mining is done by indians, who adhere to the processes that have been in use for centuries; the spirit of enterprise does not prevail here, and until it does there will be no revival of the business." one of the youths asked a question which led to a description of the primitive ways of mining at potosi. [illustration: a primitive mill.] "take, for example," said their entertainer, "the mill in which the ores are crushed. it is a rude affair, with two wheels of stone at the end of a horizontal bar moved by an upright shaft. the propelling force is an ox, a mule, or possibly a stream of water, and sometimes the mill is worked by the power of men. the apparatus somewhat resembles an old-fashioned cider-mill in the northern states of america, but the roughest cider-mill you ever saw is a piece of cabinet-maker's work compared with a bolivian _arastra_. the broken ore is placed in a trough in which the stone wheels move slowly around, crushing, perhaps, half a ton of ore daily. modern mills, such as are used by the miners of california and nevada, would crush twenty times as much ore at little more than the same cost! [illustration: arastra, with mule-power.] "from the beginning to the end of the work the whole business is very slow and primitive. the ore is broken out of the veins by sheer force of labor, powder or other blasting material being rarely employed. it is carried on the backs of men to the surface of the ground; the _tanateros_, or ore-carriers, load the substance into baskets or bags of rawhide, and climb patiently upwards along perpendicular logs that are notched to give holding-places for the feet. [illustration: breaking ore.] "with a hammer a native breaks the ore into pieces suitable for the crushing-wheels; then it is reduced to mud by the slow operation i have described; it is roasted or treated with quicksilver according to its requirements; and finally the pure silver is obtained, and smelted into bars for transportation to the coast. "now, here is the difference between this way of working and the modern methods. the american or english miner would hoist the ore from the mine by machinery instead of carrying it out by man-power. then he would use machinery for reducing it to powder, allowing none to be wasted, and after the reduction he would extract the silver from the rock in such a way as to save every grain of metal it contained, and preserve all the quicksilver to be used over and over again. a great part of the silver is lost at present, together with much of the quicksilver used in the work of amalgamation. where there is a profit of ten dollars by the old process in working a ton of ore there would be fifty dollars of profit under the new. and yet it is hard to convince these people that it is worth their while to try the new system! "some of the mines are in the sides of the mountains, where no hoisting is required, and the ore is brought directly to the open air without the necessity of climbing. such mines are more profitable than the others, as they can be readily drained, and the expense of carrying the ore upwards is saved. "the ore of potosi is very rich, but, for that matter, so are the ores of puno and cerro de pasco. some deposits yield as high as two hundred dollars a ton. when you bear in mind that the miners of california find a profit in working mineral at ten dollars a ton you can realize the wealth of the silver deposits of the andes. "when i first came here," he continued, "i was fresh from the mines of nevada. the rudeness of the bolivian work was in very marked contrast to what i was so lately familiar with. "near the entrance of the first mine i visited i saw some specimens of rich ore lying on the ground. there was a group of three natives lounging around the place, a man, a woman, and a boy. the mine had been deserted for some time, and i found these people helped themselves to the mineral whenever they wanted it. telling them i wished to see how they operated, and promising a reward for their trouble, i induced them to go to work. [illustration: indians extracting silver from ore.] "the man entered the mine, carrying a bar of iron and a rawhide bag. in a little while i heard the blows of the bar, and in the course of half an hour he returned with about twenty pounds of ore in the bag. then the man and the woman pounded the ore upon flat stones, and reduced it to a coarse dust, which was placed in an earthen pot over a fire. the fire was fed and tended by the boy, while the man and woman looked on; they had performed their share of the toil, and were willing to give the youth a chance. "a smaller pot was brought, in which the ore was placed after half an hour's roasting in the large one. this pot was filled with the dust, deposited on the bed of coals, and covered with a loosely fitting lid. the wood was piled over it and the fire burned fiercely. the whole mass became red-hot, and the fumes of sulphur filled the air as they rose from the smelting-pot. "the fire was allowed to burn down, and when it was reduced to ashes and embers the pot was lifted out, and its contents were poured on the ground. there was a confused mass of slag and ashes, and in a few moments the man who had taken the ore from the mine pushed from the slag a button of silver weighing something more than an ounce. it was thrown into water to cool, and when in a condition to be handled it was passed over to me. i gave the man a dollar, together with some smaller coins to the woman and boy, and then walked away with my trophy." frank and fred were much interested in this account of the silver mines of bolivia, and the primitive ways of working them. as soon as the conversation was over they wrote it out, as nearly as they remembered it, in order that none of the information should be lost. then followed a technical account of the character of the ores, but it might be tedious to the general reader, and we will omit it. their informant further told the youths that a good many of the natives support themselves by melting the ores in the manner just described, and selling the buttons for what they will bring. the silver thus obtained is not chemically pure, but is good enough for purposes of sale. fred asked if accidents were common in the mines at potosi. [illustration: galleries in a silver mine.] "of course they have accidents there," was the reply, "but probably no more on the average than in mines in other parts of the world. most of them are due to carelessness, either in failing to support the roof properly after the ore is taken out, or not taking proper hold of the ladders while ascending or descending. sometimes the roof of a mine falls in, but there is generally sufficient warning to allow the men to escape. rocks occasionally become dislodged and fall upon the workmen; i was one day walking in a mine when a stone weighing at least a ton fell behind me, right in my tracks. if i had been three or four seconds later it would have crushed me. [illustration: caving in.] "the weight of rock and earth becomes too great for the timbers along the sides and across the roof, and they are crushed and broken. but before falling they groan and crack and settle, but rarely give way suddenly. the indians can tell from long experience when there is any real danger, and are generally quick enough to escape." from mining the conversation turned to general subjects relating to bolivia. the substance of what the youths learned may be set down as follows: silver is found in many parts of the republic, and some of the mines are said to yield ore as rich as of potosi. the potosi mines are mainly in a single mountain, which has been pierced with more than five thousand tunnels and openings. gold is found in many places, but it has not been extensively mined. occasionally large nuggets or masses of pure gold are found, and they bring a higher price as curiosities than when reduced to bullion. one of these masses was detached from a mountain by a stroke of lightning, and sold at an enormous price to the royal museum at madrid. there are some valuable mines of tin and copper in bolivia; the tin mines of oruro are said to be the richest in the world, and copper is said to be as abundant in the mountains of corocoro as silver is at potosi. the other mineral wealth of bolivia is well known, but none of it is available on account of the lack of transportation. the country has no outlet by which it can reach the markets of the world. transportation to the pacific coast is over the passes of the andes and across deserts, while the ocean ports are lacking in facilities for landing or discharging cargoes. there is a route through buenos ayres, and another through brazil; both are long and expensive, and the greater part of the products of the country will not bear the cost of removal. there will be occasion for referring to this subject again. [illustration: wild indian of bolivia.] bolivia has a little more than two millions of inhabitants, about one fourth of them whites. there are several varieties of the native and mixed races, from the civilized indians of la paz and other cities to the wild tribes of the upper waters of the amazon. the latter lead a wandering life, and wear no clothes; they have resisted all attempts to civilize them, and until recently they were hostile to the white people who passed along the river in boats. a curious story is told of the incident by which their hostility was suppressed. in a survey made by the bolivian government of the falls of the madeira river a camp was established on the banks of that stream. soon after it was located one of the men of the exploring party was taken ill, and his disease proved to be small-pox. he was immediately isolated from the rest of the camp, and carefully attended by the doctor. recovery was impossible. one day, while the doctor was at the side of the dying patient, these warlike natives attacked the hut, and barely gave the doctor time to escape. the death of the sufferer was hastened by the indians, and they triumphantly carried away his clothes and bedding. nearly the whole tribe died in consequence; the few that survived have ever since regarded the occurrence as a manifestation of divine wrath, and let the white men carefully alone. frank and fred heard so much about the undeveloped sources of wealth in bolivia that they were inclined to form stock companies for various enterprises out of which enormous amounts of money could be made. but as their previous dreams of this sort had amounted to nothing, they wisely forbore even going so far as to put their ideas on paper. they heard of vast numbers of cattle on the _pampas_, or plains of eastern bolivia, which could be bought for a few shillings each, and converted into beef and leather, at a great advance on the original cost. their informant said they would yield a profit on their hides alone, while the beef could be sent to london, or other places of large demand, by some of the preservative processes that have been recently invented. then they learned that bolivia could supply fine woods for cabinet purposes, in inexhaustible quantities, from the forests on the lower slopes of the andes, and the banks of the beni and other rivers. they found, on consulting the statistics, that the country could export the following articles if it only had the means of transporting them: gold, silver, tin, copper, lead, quicksilver, chinchona bark, rubber, coffee, cacao, sugar, vanilla, balsams, copal, wax, dyes, sarsaparilla, tobacco, farina, cotton, llama and alpaca wool, cattle, hides, horns, tallow, dried meat, tiger and deer skins, furs, feathers, hammocks, and hats. glancing at the history of the country, frank found that bolivia was formerly a province of peru, under the spanish domination. it joined in the revolution in the early part of the present century, and, in common with the other dependencies of spain on the west coast of south america, achieved its independence. in it was made a separate republic, and named bolivia, in honor of general bolivar, the leader of the revolution. it has had the usual checkered career of south american republics, with perhaps fewer insurrections than some of its fraternity. it formerly had a strip of sea-coast, but at present it has none; its coast possessions were annexed to chili as one of the results of the late war, and for the future its must seek its commercial outlet through another country or by way of the amazon river. the steamer carried our friends across the lake in a northeasterly direction and entered the bay of huancané. they were landed at the little village of vilquechico, whence there is a route through the eastern andes to the head-waters of the amazon. the _alcalde_ of the village welcomed them to his dominions, and in true spanish politeness announced that the village and all it contained were theirs. they didn't want the village, nor anything in it, except the means of getting out of it. the doctor explained that their desires could be gratified with mules and llamas for continuing their journey; for these they would pay promptly, and would likewise pay for everything they chose to buy. as for the village, they would be content to let it remain in its delightful position on the shore of lake titicaca. it was easier to say "mules and llamas" than to obtain them. the alcalde issued orders for the people to bring all their spare animals; four saddle mules were needed for the journey, one for each of the party to ride, and a dozen mules or their equivalents in llamas were wanted for carrying the baggage and provisions. the offers of beasts of burden came in slowly, and it was necessary to send to huancané, a town twelve miles away, to find a sufficient number. most of the provisions for the party had been brought from puno, as already stated, but there were still a few purchases to be made; it was decided to take matters leisurely, and accordingly the departure was fixed for the morning of the third day after their arrival. manuel was kept busy acting as an aid to the alcalde in collecting the animals; in the intervals of looking after them he bought whatever provisions were needed, and made bargains with the men who were to accompany the train. the supplies were almost identical with those for the journey from quito to napo, and therefore will not need repetition here. [illustration: limited accommodations.] lodgings at vilquechico were not equal to the palace hotel at san francisco, or, in fact, to any other hotel of civilized cities. dr. bronson and frank were assigned to a hut about six feet wide by eight or nine in length, while fred was quartered in another hut along with the most of the baggage, on which manuel slept by way of security. the beds were spread on what was literally the ground-floor, and there was just room enough for the two beds, and a few of the equipments of the travellers. at the end of the single apartment there was a mud altar with a crucifix, before which a candle was burning; the door was wanting altogether, and the doorway was closed by hanging a blanket across it. the night was cold, but, shielded by their coverings, the trio slept well; they were out early, as there was nothing in the luxury of their quarters to lead to late sleeping. they endeavored to find more commodious lodgings for the other nights of their stay, but were unable to do so, and quickly determined to be content with what they had, which was certainly philosophical. "we are better lodged now than we shall be for most of the nights of our journey to the amazon," explained the doctor; "and too much luxury would be bad for us." frank and fred agreed with this intelligent suggestion, when they found it was impossible to improve upon the situation. fred said they should remember how the fox consoled himself for his failure to obtain the fruits of the vine, by reflections upon their acidity. [illustration: aymara skull.] it was nearly noon on the day fixed for the departure that the baggage train moved out of the village and took the road to huancané, where the first night was to be passed. dr. bronson and frank had started early in the morning, leaving fred and manuel to look after the baggage animals, and bring them forward. there were one or two purchases which could not be made at vilquechico on account of the limited stock of supplies; huancané could supply the deficiency, as it is a larger place and has more extensive stores. it is occupied almost exclusively by aymara and quichua families, who live as distinctly, but on the same terms of amity, as their kindred in puno. [illustration: turf house near lake titicaca.] the road winds along the shore of the lake for a large part of the way. the ground is destitute of trees, and the only vegetation is the grass, which furnishes nourishment to the sheep and other animals, and the _tola_ or _tortora_ that fill the shallow waters, and often extend long distances from the shores. the houses of the shepherds are made of turf, which is thin, but tough, and serves admirably for building purposes. not only the houses are made of it, but the corrals for sheep, and any other needed edifices. at a little distance these houses resemble haystacks, as they are nearly always conical in shape; there is a hole near the apex of the cone, where the smoke finds its way outward after leisurely traversing the whole interior of the building. fred entered one of these huts, but he did not stay long. the interior was extremely dirty; manuel said, that when it became so bad that the owners could not longer endure it they deserted the hut and built another. "but they don't move often," he added, "and the huts must be very bad indeed before their owners will take the trouble to put up new ones." [illustration: chulpas, or burial-towers.] there are some ruins in the neighborhood of huancané, but it was not considered worth while to visit them. they consist mostly of _chulpas_, or burial-towers, which are nothing more than towers, either round or square, with interior spaces for the reception of the remains of the dead. a description of one will suffice for all. it is seventeen feet square, and twenty-four feet high, and rises from a platform of cut stones twenty-two feet on each side, and raised a foot above the ground. three feet below the top there is a cornice two feet deep, which projects about twelve inches on every side, and is the only external ornament. there is a door or opening eighteen inches square on the eastern face, and level with the platform on which the chulpa stands. inside there is a vault or chamber eleven feet square and thirteen feet high; its sides rise vertically for about eight feet, and then come together to form a pointed arch. on each of the sides of the interior there is a niche three feet high and eighteen inches wide, and the entrance is directly under one of these niches. the round chulpas have a close resemblance to the turf huts of the shepherds; some of the huts have cornices, in imitation of the architecture of the chulpas, and it is possible that the form of the dwelling was taken from that of the burial-towers. on the road to huancané dr. bronson and frank turned aside to look at a sepulchre built of flat stones piled irregularly together. it is thought to be the earliest form of the chulpa, before the inca architects had learned to shape their structures like the one just described. the stones were flat, some of them being five or six feet long, and correspondingly broad, with a thickness of twelve or fifteen inches. frank made a sketch of the monument, and introduced the figure of a man standing beside it, so that its proportions could be readily seen. [illustration: ancient sepulchre.] chapter xiv. over the eastern andes into the amazon valley.--an exciting journey.--adventures by the way.--troubles of travelling with a tiger. [illustration: manuel.] the lodgings of the travellers on their night at huancané were an improvement upon their quarters at vilquechico. they had a stone floor to sleep upon in place of the bare ground, and the room was large enough to accommodate all three of them without crowding. they rose early, and managed to get out of the place in good season, in spite of the desire of their drivers to linger in the town, and the evident willingness of manuel to accommodate them. it was deemed prudent to see the baggage-train on its way before venturing outside the limits of the town, and consequently our friends waited until the last of the burden-animals had received his load before they ordered the saddles placed on their mules. under the eye of his employers manuel worked vigorously, when he made up his mind that further delay was impossible. immediately on leaving town the road began to ascend, and in a little while they were winding among the mountains in a way that recalled the journey from guayaquil to quito. the western shore of lake titicaca is comparatively low, but on the east the mountains come pretty close to the water, and in places fall off into precipices. in the region of huancané the snowy peaks rise in full view, and seem but a few miles distant; sorata, the crown of the andes, fills the horizon in the south, and there are other peaks that continue the chain far as the eye can reach. up and down the hills wound the path, but, until the summit of the pass was reached, the ups were far more numerous than the downs. four or five miles from huancané the train halted at a hacienda where a train from the eastward had just arrived. the animals became a good deal mixed up, and as each of the trains was composed of mules and llamas in about equal proportions there was a prospect of trouble in sorting them out. the doctor suggested to manuel the possibility of a trade, whereby they could send back all the llamas, and have the train consist entirely of mules. somewhat to his surprise it was quickly arranged, through the offer of a small premium to the owners on each side. the loss of time in the transaction, and the changing of the loads, was more than made up by the superior speed of the mules. the llama cannot travel as far in a day as a mule can; he carries less weight, and consequently a train of llamas is longer than a train of mules with the same amount of baggage, and more difficult to manage. [illustration: loading the mules.] occasionally a load slipped or there was a kicking-match among the beasts of the train, but on the whole they got along very well. the mule of south america is much like his fellow in the north, but frank was of the opinion that he is not so active with his heels. high altitudes may possibly render him more docile, and he may have the good sense to understand the folly of expending his energy against the air. the mules on these mountain paths follow their leaders with great fidelity; the foremost of the train wears a bell, and its tinkling is the magic sound which draws them on. if the bell is silenced the drivers have far more difficulty in managing their charges than when it is audible. [illustration: the start.] but all is not smooth travelling with the hybrid beast of burden. the saddle mules were the best and strongest of the entire collection engaged by our friends, and on several occasions they manifested their sportiveness in a way that was far from reassuring. the second morning of the journey one of them began to dance just as his rider was putting a foot in the stirrup; the others caught the contagion, and in a very few seconds all the saddles were empty, and the travellers were scattered on the ground or surveying the scene with feelings the reverse of amiable. fortunately, the incident took place in the corral, and the unruly beasts were not able to escape. one after another they were secured and held until the mount could be successfully accomplished. in the evening frank made a sketch of the scene, which contained a good deal of action to the square foot of paper. [illustration: a mountain trail.] the road increased in roughness as they ascended to the crest of the pass, and the descent down the eastern slope of the mountains was equally steep. as they crossed the pass, , feet above the level of the sea, the air was thin and cold, and the glittering crests of the snow-covered mountains seemed to be close at hand. far in the east the cordilleras filled the horizon; the party halted a few minutes, and manuel indicated the route they were to follow among the mountains while descending into the valley of the beni. it was too cold to stay long, and they were soon winding down the slippery path. [illustration: hacienda among the mountains.] before nightfall they reached a hacienda, which was kept by an indian for the accommodation of travellers. it was a sorry establishment, but as it was far better than no accommodation at all they passed the night there. the sleeping-quarters were open to the winds almost as much as the corral where the animals were secured; a cold blast blew from the mountains, and the temperature hovered in the neighborhood of zero. there was no fire, or even a fire-place, but by a judicious use of all their wraps and coverings the travellers managed to sleep fairly. by the next night they were considerably farther down the slope, and experienced no more trouble with the cold. as they descended the mountains they entered the region of moisture, much like that encountered on going down to napo from the crest of the andes, near quito. clouds swept over them, the rains fell, vegetation was everywhere about them, and the indications of a change of climatic conditions were plainly to be seen. by and by the wooded district was reached, and with each mile of advance the density of the growth increased. it is interesting to watch the changes as one descends eastward from high elevations in the andes. at the crest all is sterile--nothing but bare rocks, with possibly a few mosses clinging to their sides. no water is visible, but by and by we find a tiny thread formed by the melting snows, or the condensed vapor from the eastern winds. the thread enlarges; after a time it grows to a brook, with little pools here and there in which a cup can be dipped, or our tired animals can drink. most of the mountain trails follow the valleys and ravines which form the natural channels of the water, and so hour by hour the brook increases in width and volume. the mosses on the rocks grow more dense, they give place to shrubs, and the shrubs in turn give place to bushes. then come stunted trees, only a few inches in height, but having the form and appearance of perfect trees, gnarled and twisted by the wintry blasts. the stunted trees are less and less dwarfed, and from inches they increase in height to feet. the ground is covered with grass, at first, in stray bunches, as though life was a struggle under the low temperature constantly surrounding them. the bunches increase in number till they become a carpet, and the rich verdure covers the open ground where the trees are absent. bogs and swamps take the place of arid wastes. pines and larches are larger and larger; after a time they disappear to make way for foliferous trees. the way of the traveller is devious and full of toil; it is blocked by fallen trunks mingled in perplexing confusion, and unless he is where a road has been opened the progress of an hour is counted by feet or yards, in place of the miles left behind in the open country. especially in the mountain ravines, where the trees have been swept down by the torrents, is the way thus obstructed. trees and great stones are piled closely together, and sometimes they form an arch beneath which the stream meanders during the dry season. the first part of the downward journey is generally along the valley of a river flowing from the mountain, but after some thousands of feet of descent it is necessary to follow a larger stream, and cross one by one its numerous tributaries. there are fresh and great difficulties in this part of the route. after crossing a stream its bank must be ascended, sometimes almost precipitously, then a dividing ridge is traversed, and then comes the descent into the next valley. in this way the main valley is descended until the lower country is reached, where the river becomes tranquil, and suited to navigation by canoes or other craft. dr. bronson and his young companions travelled thus down the eastern slope of the andes into the valley of the beni. ten days after their departure from huancané they reached the point where it was necessary to leave the mules; the drivers were paid off and discharged, and were ready to start back to the shore of lake titicaca. fortunately, they found an engagement with a merchant who had some goods to transport over the mountains, and was glad to secure their services. for the next thirty miles the way was so steep and rough as to be impracticable for even the sure-footed mule. travellers have the choice of the _silla_ or to go on foot, while their baggage is carried on the backs of men. frank and fred looked doubtingly at the silla, and so did the doctor. they preferred to walk, but at the suggestion of dr. bronson each of the party engaged a silla, to be used whenever he was inclined to it. perhaps you are wondering what the silla is. it is thus described by fred: [illustration: travelling by silla.] "a bamboo chair is strapped to the back of the _sillero_, or porter, by means of belts going around his chest and another which crosses his forehead. the traveller sits in this chair, with his feet supported on a step which forms part of the conveyance. he must sit perfectly still while the sillero is in motion, as the least change of position might cause the porter to stumble and fall, and a fall among the rocks is liable to be a very serious affair for both parties. "mr. horton, in his 'twenty months in the andes,' tells of a spanish officer who was travelling in this way, and wore a pair of spurs with which he occasionally prodded the porter, to urge him to greater speed. the latter took a fearful revenge. "maddened with the pain produced by the cruel spurs, he pitched his rider headlong over a precipice, where there was a sheer fall of two or three hundred feet. the officer was killed instantly, and before his companions could secure the sillero the latter fled into the forest and escaped. the scene of this occurrence is pointed out, and there is little doubt of the truth of the story. it is easy to see that the traveller is entirely at the mercy of his carrier; knowing this, we were careful to secure the good-will of our silleros by promising an extra payment if they went through without accident. "we walked the greater part of the distance; it may surprise you to know that we walked over the easiest part of the route, and rode where the way was dangerous, except in a few places. manuel told us that these men were accustomed to this work from the time they were able to carry burdens, and they knew every inch of the way. it was really safer for us to ride on their backs, in the dangerous places, than to attempt to walk; they knew exactly where to put their feet at every step, while we did not. we followed his advice and found it correct, and we were very careful, you may be sure, not to move a muscle when ascending or descending the steep slopes of the ravines." three days were consumed in this journey of thirty miles. the porters with the baggage led the caravan, and sometimes they were an hour or more in advance of the travellers. at night they spread a small tent, which formed a part of their equipment, and were thus sheltered from the weather. it was necessary to wear rubber clothing, as the rains were frequent, and even with this precaution the evening generally found them wet through to the skin. but a change to dry clothing and several cups of steaming hot tea with their supper drove away all suggestions of rheumatism and kindred ills resulting from the dampness, and they finished the novel ride without a mishap. fred took note of the changes in the animal life as they descended from the crest of the great andean chain. in the mountains they frequently saw the condor, the giant bird of south america, whose range extends from the isthmus of darien to the strait of magellan. both the youths were disappointed in the size of the condor, which had been grossly exaggerated in the tales of travellers and the accounts of the old historians. he has been represented as having wings spreading fifteen or twenty feet from tip to tip. the largest they could hear of measured thirteen feet, and even this was not entirely authentic; the largest they _saw_ was nine feet across the wings; humboldt never found one of more than nine feet, and the largest specimen seen by darwin measured eight and a half feet. the body from the tip of the beak to the end of the tail is from three to three and a half feet in extreme length. [illustration: dead whale on shore.] equally exaggerated were the stories about the condors attacking men or carrying away children; they belong to the vulture family, and though they sometimes carry off small animals, they greatly prefer to feed upon carcasses of horses, cattle, or similar beasts. they live usually in the mountains, but on the west coast they come down to the sea to feed upon dead whales, and they serve as scavengers on some of the cattle estates of peru and other south american countries. [illustration: shot at a condor.] frank tried a shot at a condor one day, but the bird flew away unharmed. after his excitement was over the youth wondered what he would have done with his prize if the shot had been successful. an indian offered to capture one alive for a couple of dollars; frank declined the proposal, but gave the man a small present to tell how it was done. "easy enough," was the reply, "i should watch near a cattle estate for the first dead ox, and immediately build a pen around him. the condor cannot rise from the ground without running a short distance to get a headway, and this is the reason why i make the pen. "when my pen is done i go away. the condors come down to eat the flesh of the ox, and when they have gorged themselves full i come around again. they cannot fly because they are so filled with food, and, besides, they cannot get the short run they want to rise in the air, because they are in the pen. i throw a lasso around one of them; he fights; i throw another lasso and another; he tires himself out fighting; then i tie more ropes around him, put him in a cage, cut the ropes, and you have him safe for two dollars." frank thought he would like a condor's egg, and would pay a good price for it. he was told that few persons had ever seen an egg of the condor, partly for the reason that the nests of this bird are built on high cliffs, almost if not quite inaccessible, and partly because the indians have a superstitious fear of going in search of them. and besides their superstition there is the dread of the bird itself, which will fight in defence of its nest, and is a match for a full-grown man, unless his assailant is armed with a gun. it is no easy matter to shoot a condor, as the skin is very tough and protected by a dense mass of feathers. [illustration: puma, cougar, or american lion.] they looked for wild vicunas among the mountains, but saw none. manuel said there were lions farther down, and when they descended below the timber line he pointed out some tracks which he declared were made by that beast. the lion is better described as the puma, or cougar, and it has a range from the lowlands up to an elevation of ten or twelve thousand feet. it is not a courageous animal, and will flee from danger if it has the opportunity. [illustration: capybara.] a more dangerous beast than the puma is the jaguar, or _onca_, which is not infrequently called tiger. he is the most savage and the strongest animal in the south american continent, and in some regions is very destructive to cattle, though he rarely attacks man unless pursued and assailed. he is spotted like the leopard, but his spots are angular instead of rounded, and there are dots in the centre of the spots. humboldt says he saw a jaguar "whose length surpassed that of any of the tigers of india which he had seen in the collections of europe." he haunts the borders of rivers and lagoons, and his favorite food is the capybara; the latter is the largest of living rodents, and resembles a greatly overgrown guinea-pig. the capybara is amphibious and gregarious, and is found all through the valley of the amazon and its tributaries; he is sometimes called the water-hog, from his general resemblance to the animal which supplies us with pork. his length often exceeds three feet, and the naturalists say he is a connecting link between the rodents and the pachyderms. the first game secured by our friends was a capybara. it was resting comfortably on the bank of a river, where it was seen by the sharp eyes of manuel. the guide made the motion of bringing a gun to his shoulder, and then beckoned for frank to advance; the latter took his rifle from its sling, and cautiously crept forward in the direction indicated. considerable manoeuvring was required to get a good position for a shot, as manuel had previously explained that it was necessary to kill the animal instantly, or it would dart into the water and be lost. the rest of the party remained quietly in the rear until frank had gained the place he wanted. then a well-directed bullet crashed through the capybara's brain; manuel ran forward and secured the prize, which furnished fresh meat for the next meal. it was a welcome addition to their stores, as the flesh proved excellent eating; the good taste of the jaguar was commended, and fred said he wondered that the beast of prey should condescend to kill cattle as long as capybara meat was obtainable. elated with his success in the hunting-field, frank desired to try his skill upon a jaguar, but was advised to be careful. manuel said there was very little probability of his having the chance to shoot at one, as the jaguar rarely shows himself. he prefers seeing to being seen, and unless you catch him swimming in the rivers or lagoons there is not much likelihood of ever setting eyes on him. [illustration: jaguar.] "it sometimes happens," said the doctor, "that the jaguar is seen in the water from a steamer on the river. a friend of mine was ascending the amazon some years ago on one of the brazilian boats. just as they rounded a bend in the river the pilot saw a jaguar swimming from one bank to the other and nearly in mid-stream. the boat was turned in his direction; the jaguar increased his speed, but could not escape. the odds of steam against muscle proved too much for the muscle; the animal turned for the side whence he started, but the boat turned too and pressed him closely. then he was forced out into the middle of the river again; a small boat was lowered, as it could follow his turnings much more readily than the unwieldy steamer. a few vigorous strokes of the oars brought the boat near him; a lasso was thrown over his head, and then he wheeled about and attacked his pursuers. "they had him at an advantage, as he could not sustain himself in the water and maintain a vigorous fight at the same time. just as his paws touched the side of the boat he was killed by a bullet from a revolver; his body was towed to the steamer and taken on board, where the skin was removed and carefully preserved. he was one of the largest of his race, and estimated to be only an inch or two less than three feet high at the shoulder when standing erect. he could have slaughtered and dragged off an ox easily. the jaguar's method of killing horses or oxen is to spring on the back, and break the animal's neck by a single blow of his powerful paw." [illustration: game for the jaguar.] "the jaguar will dig in the sand for turtle's eggs," said manuel, "and he will also kill and devour turtles of good size; he can scoop out their shells as easily as though he had all the implements of a skilful cook, and he will stand in the water, where he seizes fish with his paws and tosses them on shore. if captured when very young he can be made as docile as a kitten, but when he gets his growth and strength he is a dangerous pet. i had one once," continued the guide, "and didn't realize what he was until he one day came near eating up one of my friends while playing with him. i concluded he was not good to have about a family, and sold him to a collector of curiosities." fred asked what the collector did with him. "i heard that he had a hard time with the beast," said manuel. "he went down the amazon, and was several months on the voyage. by the time he reached para the animal was nearly full-grown, and though perfectly submissive was averse to familiarity on the part of strangers. he bit the hand of a passenger on one of the steamers, and it was necessary to shut him in a cage; this made him ill-natured, and he refused to be quiet except in the presence of his owner. "when the collector reached para he received letters that called him down the coast, and compelled him to part with his pet. he tried to sell the beast, but nobody in para wanted to buy a tiger; then he tried to give him away, but nobody would accept a tiger as a gift; next he offered him to the city to start a menagerie with, but the city didn't propose starting one; he tried to hire somebody to kill the beast, but nobody would take the contract; then he caged him for shipment to england, but the agent of the steamer refused the freight; the hotel-keeper wouldn't accept the tiger as security for the gentleman's board, and altogether he was in an awkward predicament. [illustration: steamer leaving para.] "when the southward-bound steamer arrived he took the tiger and cage along as part of his personal baggage, having placed a large stone in the bottom of the cage for the animal to 'scratch his claws upon.' the captain of the steamer demanded extra payment for such a package, the passenger refused it, and during the altercation the cage and contents were thrown overboard. the stone carried the whole thing to the bottom, and there it rested." "that was the end of the jaguar, i suppose?" queried fred. "the end of the animal," was the reply, "but not of the owner's troubles. when the steamer returned to para the authorities presented the captain with a bill for violating an ordinance relative to obstructing the harbor by throwing things overboard. he escaped responsibility on the ground that the animal was the personal luggage of the passenger; when the latter came again to para he was presented with the account, and had to pay it." "he was glad to get out of the scrape," remarked frank, "and didn't hesitate to pay the final bill." "quite likely," answered manuel. "but somebody had fished up the drowned beast, and stuffed the skin. when the traveller had settled with the authorities the skin was brought to him. he paid for the work of preservation, and then sent the specimen to a friend in england, in care of a taxidermist. it arrived in bad condition, at least the taxidermist said so, as he sent a bill for repairs, and explained that he supposed the gentleman wanted to have the skin in proper shape when presented to his friend. "he paid this bill, and happily it was the last. i don't believe he will buy another jaguar in a hurry." manuel's story was voted a good one, and worthy of preservation--like the hide of the animal whose adventures it recorded. frank agreed to be the taxidermist of the story, without charge; he rendered manuel's fluent spanish into the vernacular of the united states, wherein it is here presented. [illustration: head of navigation.] chapter xv. down the river.--arrival on the beni.--birds of the amazon valley.--building a hut.--hunting with poisoned arrows.--turtles, and turtle-hunting. [illustration: a chance acquaintance.] all were heartily glad to terminate the journey by mule and on foot, and there was sound sleep in their little tent on the night following their arrival at the village on the river's bank. they were up early, and for two or three hours were occupied with paying the carriers, and negotiating for canoes for the voyage down the stream. the settlement with the carriers was less difficult than the engagement of the canoes. the price for land transportation had been agreed upon beforehand, so that there was little occasion for dispute; the porters of the sillas had exaggerated ideas of the value of their services in bringing their charges through without accident; but the question did not rise to anything like a serious misunderstanding. the indians of the village were disinclined to move, as it happened to be a period of festival, and they resented the idea of stopping their rejoicings in order to make a voyage down the river. manuel argued that it was a downward voyage, and they would have no hard work to do; by the time they were at their journey's end the festival would be over, and consequently the proposed trip would not really interfere with their amusements. they admitted the force of his suggestion, and when this was fairly conceded the negotiations proceeded, with some hitches, to a happy termination. in spite of all efforts to secure an early departure, they did not get away until the morning of the third day following their arrival from the andes. four canoes were engaged; two for the baggage, and two for the three travellers and their guide. the canoes were each about twenty feet long, and two in width; they were hollowed from the trunks of trees, and closely resembled the american "dugout." in fact they were literally of that type of craft, and reminded frank and fred of the boats they had seen in the malay archipelago, and at singapore and point de galle. each canoe had four rowers, and a _popero_, or pilot; the latter was an important personage, as the safety of the boat in the rapids depended upon his watchfulness, and his prompt action in moments of peril. the baggage was placed in two of the canoes; the third was occupied by doctor bronson and frank, while the fourth held fred and the guide. the doctor and frank led the advance, while fred and the guide brought up the rear, the baggage canoes being in the centre of the column. after an affectionate parting of the indians with their friends on shore the canoes were manned, and the flotilla was under way. the leave-taking of the indians was peculiar; they clasped hands, then kissed the hands alternately, and then kissed each other. as each indian was obliged to go through this ceremony with every one whom he left behind, the osculation consumed considerable time. the canoes were to take them to the point where the river they were descending unites with the beni; it was estimated that the downward journey would occupy two days, while the indians would be eight or ten days in returning. in descending they keep the canoes in the middle of the stream, and take advantage of the current, but in ascending they hug the banks, and propel the boat by means of poles, or by dragging it around the rapids. the current is swift, as there is a considerable fall to the river; nowhere was the flow less than three miles an hour, and in many places it amounted to five miles. several rapids were passed which had a dangerous appearance, and undoubtedly they would have been full of peril to any one unaccustomed to them. dr. bronson certainly looked very serious while passing the first of the rapids, and the face of frank wore an expression of anxiety. but their possible doubt as to the result was removed when they saw the skill with which the popero swung his long paddle, dexterously brought the canoe around when it seemed about to go headlong on a rock, and let it glide past a whirling eddy which threatened to swamp it. they were only a few minutes in the rapid, but it seemed at least an hour to the travellers. [illustration: a landing-place.] the trees on the banks of the river showed that they were in the tropics. palms of several varieties were visible, bamboos grew luxuriantly, banana bushes were numerous, while papayas, plantains, and similar vegetable growths were everywhere to be seen. frank had his rifle ready for use in case of large game, but none was discovered; birds rich in plumage flew among the trees, but, like most of the birds of the tropics, they were seen rather than heard. few tropical birds have the power of song, and it is possible that their brilliant feathers are given in compensation for their deprivation. but do not understand that all the birds of south america are unmusical. on the borders of guiana is a rare bird, known as the uruponga or campanero, which may be rendered into english as "the tolling-bell bird." it is white, and somewhat smaller than a dove, and has a black tubercle under the beak. one traveller, waterton, says of this bird, "orpheus himself would drop his lute to listen to him, so sweet, so novel, and romantic is the toll of the pretty, snow-white campanero." sydney smith, in reviewing waterton's narrative, says "the campanero may be heard three miles! this single little bird being more powerful than the belfry of a cathedral ringing for a new dean! it is impossible to contradict a gentleman who has been in the forests of cayenne, but we are determined, as soon as a campanero is brought to england, to make him toll in a public place, and have the distance measured." professor orton says the most remarkable songster of the amazonian forest is the realejo, or organ bird. its notes are as musical as the flageolet. another authority says it is the only songster which makes any impression on the natives. the umbrella bird has a deep, loud, and long fluty note, which can be heard a great distance through the forest. he is black as a crow, and has a crest of waving plumes above his head, while there is a long lobe below his neck covered with blue feathers so glossy that they shine at every movement he makes. [illustration: humming-birds of the andes.] before reaching the river our friends had seen a good many humming-birds, and frank tried in vain to secure specimens of these tiniest members of the feathered race. on the river he was more fortunate, and he made sketches of some of the most remarkable, after fixing them upon wires, to give the greatest possible resemblance to life. there is one variety that has two long feathers forming the tail; each of these feathers has a broad tuft at the end, and when the bird darts among the leaves and flowers the tail seems like a flash of bright color among the varied hues of the foliage. [illustration: humming-bird's nest.] a little past noon the foremost boat drew up at the bank, and the others followed its example. here they remained an hour, while the boatmen partook of their repast of bananas and parched corn, and the civilized travellers regaled themselves upon provisions better suited to american tastes. frank and fred endeavored to take a stroll in the forest, but the way was blocked by vines and thick undergrowth, so that their advance was slight. [illustration: pair of toucans and their nest.] frank saw a toucan, one of those comical birds, with an enormous beak which seems specially made for devouring bananas; the bird was seated on the sloping trunk of a tree, and close observation showed the head of another bird of the same kind protruding from the wood. frank guessed rightly that he had come upon a pair of toucans and their nest. the toucan makes his home in a hollow tree, as his bill is quite unadapted to nest-building after the manner of the robin or the oriole. think of a toucan endeavoring to weave a nest like the graceful structure the oriole hangs from the tree! as well expect to see a lace collar wrought with a crowbar. [illustration: tanagers and nest.] on they went through the tropical forest, along the swiftly flowing river, passing now and then little stretches of open pampas or grassy plain, where there is excellent pasturage for cattle. at night they halted at an island; the boatmen always prefer to pass the nights on islands when journeying along the river, as they are then much more secure against the wild indians who might do them harm. most of the hostiles are without boats, and even when possessing them they are cautious about venturing on the islands for the purpose of making an attack. they greatly prefer to have a safe line of retreat behind them in the shape of the forest, where pursuit is next to impossible. at their second day's nooning it was fred's turn to make a discovery in ornithology. several times they had heard the shrill voice of the parrot, but had not succeeded in detecting the bird that made it; at the halting-place we have just mentioned fred saw two or three parrots among the trees just as his boat swung to the shore, but they flew away at the approach of their disturbers and disappeared. as soon as they had landed, the youth followed in the direction the birds had taken, and was fortunate enough to see them again; evidently they were near their nesting-place, but they did not manifest any willingness to invite the stranger to see them at home. [illustration: toucan. parrots.] the hooked bill of the parrot is as inconvenient in nest-making as the great beak of the toucan; the philosophical bird accepts the situation, and rears its young in a hollow tree, like its huge-billed friend. parrots are more numerous than toucans and also more noisy; probably for these reasons they are seen quite frequently, while the discovery of a toucan is not easily made. the doctor said a traveller might make the descent of the amazon without seeing one of the latter birds, while he would encounter the parrot very often. consequently frank might feel proud of what he had seen the day before, and but for the accident of stumbling upon the locality of the nest he would not have been thus favored. occasionally parrots and toucans are found together; both are gregarious, and the same may be said of most of the birds of south america. to the parrot family belong the true parrots, paroquets, and macaws. paroquets go in flocks, while the parrots always fly in pairs, though they flock together in large numbers on the trees. a few indian tribes consider the macaw sacred, and it is called by some of them "the bird of the sun." it was near evening when they reached their destination, a village of perhaps fifty huts, on the tongue of land forming the junction between the beni and the river they had descended. half the payment for the boats and boatmen had been made before starting; the balance was now due, but by common consent the settlement was postponed till morning. all the huts were so intolerably dirty that the travellers refused to occupy one of them; the little tent was spread near the cleanest of the huts, the baggage being piled in the latter, in charge of manuel, while the doctor and his young companions slept under canvas. the boatmen were paid off in the morning, and started at once on their homeward journey. the prospects for an immediate departure down the beni were not brilliant, as most of the indians were away, and nobody could say when they would return. they were absent on a turtle-hunting expedition along the beni; they might be back in a day or not for a week. _quien sabe?_ "never mind," said the doctor; "what can't be cured must be endured. we will build a hut for ourselves, and study the beni and anything else that comes in our way. we can make excursions into the forest and learn something of the country. the time will not be wasted, by any means." frank and fred assented readily to the proposal; in fact, they never did anything else when the doctor gave advice or suggestions. but it was easier to agree to build a hut than to build it. labor was not easy to obtain. [illustration: an amazonian dwelling.] the forest supplied the material, but it was difficult to induce the indians to do anything. after considerable argument they prevailed upon some of the men to cut the requisite bamboos, and bring them to the spot selected for the temporary dwelling. under the supervision of the youths and their guide, the walls were put up by driving some of the bamboos into the ground; a space was left for a doorway; the roof was put on, and thatched with leaves of the pandanus palm; and by nightfall the new house was completed. it measured about twelve feet by fifteen, and was admirably ventilated; the total cost was estimated at six dollars and a half, and it was pronounced one of the handsomest structures in the village. the indians were well paid for their labor, according to the rates of the local trades union; and it was understood that the building was to become the property of the alcalde, or chief man of the village, after the departure of the strangers. the alcalde surveyed the edifice with evident pride, and the doctor thought he discovered an avaricious expression on the fellow's face. frank and fred thought likewise. "i tell you what it is," said fred, "we have 'builded wiser than we knew.' he will be anxious enough to get us away in order to take possession of his new residence." "i was thinking the same thing," said frank, "and we shall save more than the cost of the building when we make our bargain with the alcalde for boats, to go down the river." [illustration: near the village.] it was the first new house erected in that village for several years, and the alcalde was covetous. the prediction of the youths was correct, and the old fellow was quite active in speeding the parting guests. when the indians returned from their turtle-hunt the bargains were easily made and the necessary boats and men obtained. but they did not return for a week, and while we are waiting for them we will take a glance at the beni and observe its peculiarities. the beni is formed by several head streams, that rise in the andes east and northeast of the plain of titicaca. it flows to the northwest for about three hundred miles, receiving numerous tributaries, and then in a northeasterly direction to the frontier of brazil. here it enters the madeira, which is formed by the mamoré and iténez rivers, and from the point of junction its name and identity are lost. it is the largest of the affluents of the madeira, and is thought to be equal to both the other streams combined. it is half a mile wide at its mouth, and fifty feet deep, and is estimated to discharge at an ordinary stage five thousand cubic yards of water every second. the beni and its tributaries are navigable for many hundreds of miles in the interior of bolivia; how far this navigation may be carried is not known, as no complete survey has been made. with a fleet of steamboats on the beni and its kindred streams, and a railway around the falls of the madeira, the resources of bolivia could be developed with ease; until that work is accomplished the foreign commerce of the country can never be extensive. through much of its course the beni runs through forests, but there is also a wide extent of pampas or grassy plains, where millions of cattle and horses might find pasturage. so abundant and cheap are the cattle at the present time that they are killed for their hides alone, the flesh being left to rot on the ground. the other rivers that form the madeira traverse a similar country, but have their sources farther east than those of the beni. they are fed by the rains brought from the atlantic by the easterly winds, which are heavily charged with moisture. frank and fred were not slow to win the confidence of the indians during their stay at the village; through the aid of manuel, who understood the language of this people, they learned some of the ways of native life on the tributaries of the amazon. they did not hesitate to ask questions about anything they saw; sometimes the answers were evasive, while at others the information sought was readily obtained. while visiting one of the huts fred espied some reeds, ten or twelve feet long and perfectly straight, among the rafters of the building. pointing to them, the youth asked what they were for. "they are guns," answered manuel; "the guns that the indians kill game with." "how can they kill game with guns like these?" queried the astonished visitor. "they would explode with the lightest charge of powder." "but they don't use powder at all," was the reply; "they blow arrows through the reeds, and shoot in that way." fred expressed a desire to see how it was done, and frank joined in the wish. manuel talked a moment with the owner of the implements, and at fred's suggestion agreed to pay a good price for a chicken if the indian would kill it with the blow-gun. the indian consented, and the party adjourned to the open space near the new house. the indian placed a small arrow in one of the reeds. the missile had a sharp point of iron, and was fitted with a tuft of cotton at its other end, to prevent the air from passing it during the act of shooting. thus equipped, the man took a position behind a bush, and the unsuspecting chicken was placed on the ground about twenty yards away. the bird walked around a few moments, uncertain where to go. the indian raised the reed to his lips, took aim, and "fired." the arrow went true to the mark, and pierced through the chicken from side to side. the man offered to repeat the experiment as long as the visitors would pay for fresh game, but they had seen enough to satisfy them, and declined his proposal. "but can they kill large animals in this way?" said frank. "i understand how they can shoot birds by concealing themselves in the trees, and watching for them to come near, but when it comes to large game, i wonder how they can give force enough to the arrows, especially where the animals have tough skins, like the capybara and the tapir." "for killing large game," replied manuel, "they use arrows poisoned with _curari_ or _woorara_. the name has several pronunciations in different parts of south america, and there are at least half a dozen kinds of the poison." "what is that?" "if you should ask the indian he would not tell you. the indians have long guarded the secret of its origin and preparation, but it was obtained from them some years ago by sir robert schomburgh, i believe. it is made from the juice of the _strychnos toxifera_, a tree or shrub resembling that which supplies the st. ignatius bean; the st. ignatius bean is familiarly known as the 'quaker button,' and yields the strychnine or nux vomica of commerce." "but it is more powerful even than strychnine," said the doctor, who had just joined them; "in fact, it is considered the most active narcotic known to science. it acts on the nervous system and produces paralysis, with convulsive movements followed by death. it has been tried with some success in the treatment of lockjaw and hydrophobia, but it is too dangerous for general use. [illustration: agave, or sisal hemp.] "if introduced into a wound its effect is almost instantaneous, but when taken through the stomach in minute quantities it is comparatively harmless. now let us hear from manuel how it is used by the indians." [illustration: hunting with the blow-gun.] "they dip the points of the arrows in curari," said the latter, "and project the arrows at the game. if it punctures the skin enough to let the poison enter the blood the work is done. in a few seconds or a few minutes at farthest the animal falls to the ground and dies in convulsions, and it is a curious fact that the flesh is in no way tainted with the deadly substance. a bear or a tapir has died within five minutes after being wounded, and smaller animals in less than one minute. great care is necessary in using it, as the least scratch with the point of a poisoned arrow may prove fatal to the hunter. "these indians will kill more birds in a day with the blow-gun than the most experienced hunter could bring down with a rifle. when they go out for birds they use arrows only a few inches long. taking a position in the top of a tree, an indian will often empty his quiver, bringing down bird after bird as fast as he can load and shoot. the weapon is noiseless, and the man remains in concealment till he has finished his work and is ready to pick up his game." frank and fred thought they did not care to practise with these weapons, however effective they might be, and they determined to keep on the friendly side of the indians, and thus avoid being aimed at with the deadly blow-gun. the indian was paid for his chicken, and the party separated. [illustration: a giant of the forest.] they made a short excursion into the forest, and were greatly impressed with the size of the trees, and the great extent of arboreal productions. travelling was difficult, owing to the thickness of the under-brush and the vast number of vines that covered the ground and hung in festoons from the trees. several varieties of mahogany were observed; a rubber-tree was pointed out by manuel; there were half a dozen kinds of palms, and they were told that many more were to be seen farther down the river; and there were several giant trees with soft wood, whose names are not known to the english language. one day manuel took a skiff and rowed out into the river with the avowed intention of bringing in a turtle for dinner; he was accompanied by an indian, the one who had experimented with the blow-gun, but this time the fellow was armed with a spear, and an ordinary bow and arrow. fred wondered how the turtle was to be taken with these implements, but he had not long to wait before ascertaining. the indian stood in the bow of the skiff with the bow and arrow ready, while manuel paddled slowly along, taking the direction indicated by the marksman. keeping where the water was shallow, they traversed quite a distance before anything worth shooting was found. after a while the indian spied a turtle, and the boat was rapidly rowed in his direction. [illustration: turtle-shooting in south america.] the arrow was skilfully projected, and pierced the turtle through the neck. he tried to get away, but his progress was impeded by the arrow, which gave an opportunity for using the spear; then a cord was passed around the turtle's neck and he was brought triumphantly to land. on the lower amazon the hunters have a cord wound around the shaft of the arrow, to which it is fastened; the other end of the cord is tied to the head, which fits loosely in the shaft. when a turtle is struck he dives; the head detaches from the shaft, the cord unwinds, and the stick floats on the water. the hunter can then follow his game, and easily secures it by hauling in the cord. our friends supped on turtle as the result of manuel's hunting adventure. they found it palatable, especially when served up in steaks, though frank was of opinion that it could not be surpassed in a stew. the next day the hunting-party returned, and the market of the little village was abundantly supplied with turtle meat. frank interested himself in the history and statistics of the amazonian turtle, with the following result: "turtles are the most important product of the amazon and its tributaries, and furnish the sustenance of the majority of the natives of the great valley. seven kinds of turtles are known to the natives, but only two of them, the tartaruga or charapa, and the charapilla, are eaten. the charapa is the largest, being often found three feet long and broad in proportion, but the charapilla is considered the best. "the eggs of the turtle are used for making oil or butter, and also for cooking in various ways. they are found along the banks of the rivers or on sand-bars; the charapa lays from one hundred and fifty to two hundred eggs, and the charapilla from thirty to forty. the turtle comes up at night, digs a hole two or three feet deep in the sand with its hind flippers, and then deposits its eggs. it covers them with sand again and returns to the water, unless, as too often happens, it is caught by the native who has been on the watch for it. i say 'too often,' as the indiscriminate slaughter of the turtle and the destruction of the eggs are fast reducing the number and raising the price. the hunters turn the turtles on their backs and there leave them till the next day, when they return and collect them. once on its back the poor turtle is helpless. [illustration: turtle-turning.] "the natives hunt for turtle eggs by pushing sticks in the sand; if the stick enters easily it reveals the locality of the deposit, and a little digging brings it to light. it is estimated that not fewer than fifty millions of turtle eggs are taken every year on the amazon and its tributaries, and some authorities think the number is much larger. "the wonder is that any turtles remain. they are shot in the water or caught when returning from the banks where they have deposited their eggs; young turtles by the thousand are eaten by alligators and large fishes; jaguars and pumas seize them when they are travelling overland, to or from their nesting-places; and the birds of prey by no means let them alone. but they could get along well enough were it not for their human foes, which are the worst of all. the turtles of the amazon will follow the fate of the buffalo and the salmon of north america whenever the country becomes fully peopled and the demand increases in proportion. "the indians have brought back many gallons of oil from turtles' eggs, which they made during their absence. the eggs are thrown into a canoe, and then trampled and beaten up by the feet of men and boys till the mass resembles a brobdingnagian omelette ready for cooking. water is poured into the canoe and mixed with the stuff; the oil rises to the surface and is skimmed off. then it is purified over the fire and put into jars holding about three gallons each, for transportation to market." chapter xvi. down the beni.--products of the valley.--plans for developing commerce.--obstructions to navigation.--voyage on the mamorÉ. negotiations for descending the river could not proceed with rapidity, as the indians were in no hurry to get away after their return from the turtle-hunt. everything among these people is connected in one way or another with a festival, and it was necessary to celebrate the success of the expedition with a period of rejoicing. the alcalde did his best, but though he possesses great power, an alcalde is not absolute in his authority at all times; it was finally arranged that the festivity would continue two days, and on the morning of the third our friends could hope to depart. the morning came, but there were still many things to be done, and it was fully noon before the boats were ready. as there were no rapids to pass, it was decided to lash two boats together side by side and connect them with a platform. the tent could be spread on this platform, in addition to an awning of palm-leaves, to shelter the travellers from the heat of the sun and the not infrequent rains. two of the largest attainable boats were taken and connected in this way. it proved an excellent arrangement, and the party was unanimous in recommending it to all future travellers descending the tributaries of the amazon where they are not navigated by steamboats. the rowers and pilots had little to do beyond keeping the raft (as we will call the combination of boats and platform just described) in the middle of the stream, where the current was strongest. there was a good deal of drift-wood in the river, but it was far less troublesome than if their course had been up the stream. dr. bronson explained to the youths that madeira means "wood," and the madeira river, into which the beni flows, was so named by the portuguese in consequence of the great number of floating trees that were met by the early explorers. the beni contributes more than its share of this floating material, as the forests extend far along its banks, which are constantly crumbling away through the action of the current. in many places the beni resembles the missouri, and seems to be subject to the same forces of nature. [illustration: south american river scene.] forests and pampas, pampas and forests, succeeded each other as the raft followed the course of this affluent of the mighty amazon. parrots and toucans and other birds flew among the trees, monkeys stared in astonishment, jumped from limb to limb, swung by feet and tail, and kept up a continual chattering as the raft floated by their haunts. frank made note of the difference between the south american monkey and his asiatic brother; he had never seen the latter using his tail for anything but ornamental purposes, while with the south american monkey it gave the advantage of an extra hand or foot. [illustration: south american monkey with prehensile tail.] "the asiatic monkey's tail is not prehensile," said the doctor, "and all monkeys of south america have not this advantage. in the words of a famous naturalist," he continued, "all monkeys with prehensile tails are american, but all american monkeys do not have prehensile tails. the asiatic monkey does not seem to have heard of such a thing, though some of the varieties of monkey in the far east occasionally use the tail in a bungling sort of way. professor wallace lived four years in south america, and in that time he saw twenty-one species of monkey, seven with prehensile and fourteen with non-prehensile tails. all the american monkeys are climbers, and live in the trees, while such is not the case in the old world." while they were talking on the subject of monkeys a most unearthly yell was heard in the forest to the right of the raft. both the boys turned in amazement to manuel, and asked what it was. [illustration: howling monkey.] "it's a guariba," said manuel, "as the natives call it." "and what is a guariba?" fred inquired. "a guariba is a howling monkey," the guide answered, "and that is the noise he makes. you can hear him a long distance, and he howls night and day without seeming to get tired of the amusement." "there are three kinds of howling monkeys in south america," said the doctor, "but the difference is more observable in their appearance than in their voices. the braying of a mule is like the note of a violin, compared to the noise of a howling monkey in good health and condition, accompanied by his friends. the howlers, like most others of the simian family, are gregarious, and if we happen to have our camp near a village of them we shall not sleep much." frank thought he would buy one of these brutes and take him home, but manuel said the howlers could not be tamed. "a wise provision of nature," remarked fred. "imagine your neighbor having a pet howler; it would be worse than all the cats in a dozen blocks of new york city." frank agreed with him, and changed his views on the subject of domesticating one of these curiosities. manuel said further that the natives had repeatedly tried to tame the howlers, but could not; they were the only members of the monkey family in south america that utterly refused to be converted into pets. they fell into the monkey-market sooner than they had expected. while passing an island, an hour or two before sunset, they saw two or three canoes drawn up on the shore, and at the doctor's suggestion manuel told the pilot to run in and see who and what the owners were. they proved to be a hunting-party of indians from the other side of the river; they had been successful in killing several monkeys, and offered some of the meat for sale. frank and fred thought it would be too much like cannibalism to eat of monkey meat, and the doctor agreed with them. manuel said the flesh of the howler was not to be recommended, as it was dry and tough, but there were some varieties on the lower amazon which were not to be despised. he particularly mentioned the white-whiskered coaita, one of the thumbless "spider-monkeys," which was held in high repute among the natives. another variety called the maquisapa was said to be good eating, but he could not speak from personal knowledge. monkey flesh is an important article of food in many parts of the amazon valley, and there are certain districts where it is the only meat to be had. but monkey in its live form was not declined, at least in limited quantity. one of the indians offered a marmoset, a pretty little creature about eight inches long, and with a soft, silky fur covering its skin. it was restless and timid; at first it shrank from the youth, but quickly seemed to understand that it would find him a better master than the indian. he took it in his hand and gently stroked its back; in a few moments it clung to him, and when the indian reached for his property the little creature struggled to remain. frank's sympathies were awakened by the affection displayed by the marmoset, and a bargain was quickly made. manuel conducted the negotiation, and the monkey became the property of the youth for an outlay of fifty cents. he paid a high price, as he afterwards ascertained, but at that time he was not familiar with the market quotations for this kind of live-stock. marmosets are the smallest members of the monkey family. the name is confined to the american varieties, and is sometimes restricted to the striated monkey of guiana or brazil. this last-named monkey has a tail a third longer than the body, the latter rarely exceeding eight or ten inches. its fur is long and soft, and of a yellowish-gray color; both tail and body are banded with black, and there is a long tuft of white hairs on each side of the head, which is of a deep black or brown. the new purchase received the name of gypsy, and soon became a general favorite with the party, though it always recognized frank as its master. it was a well-behaved pet, and, contrary to frank's expectation, it never indulged in mischievous tricks. manuel said the marmosets were rarely destructive, but the same could not be said of the rest of the monkey tribe in south america. the sapajous, he pronounced the worst of the lot; they are distributed through brazil, and, though affectionate enough as pets, are too mischievous to be kept in a house or camp. [illustration: a monkey robbing birds' nests.] "three or four years ago," said manuel, "i was on the mamoré river with an english gentleman who had bought a sapajou while ascending the amazon. he kept the fellow in a cage for a while, and then allowed him the run of the boat. the first day he was at liberty he threw overboard two of the dinner plates, and was punished by being shut up again. "when he was free once more, he picked up a book that was lying on the deck, and when discovered he had torn out at least half the leaves, and tossed them into the water. he was again caged, and after a time was let out, but they fastened a chain about him so that he could not run around. "under this restraint he behaved very well, and displayed, or pretended to display, a fondness for his owner. the gentleman was one day working at the notes of his journey, and the monkey was chained close to his table, under the awning in the centre of the boat. "he had a large map on the table, and had been marking his route with red ink along the course of the river. he was called suddenly from the table, leaving the map and the ink-bottle within the monkey's reach. "as soon as he had gone, the monkey, doubtless in a spirit of imitation, climbed to the table, pulled the map towards him, and with his paw, dipped in the ink, made an imaginary survey of a railway or a steamboat route, at least a thousand miles long, according to the scale of the drawing. just as he was finishing the performance the master returned, and caught him at it." "what happened to the monkey?" fred asked. "i don't know exactly what became of him," was the reply. "he was given to one of the boatmen, who sold him to an indian at the next landing. it wasn't safe to mention monkey to that gentleman for the rest of the time he stayed in the country." [illustration: hunting the monkey.] sunset came, and they stopped for the night. the raft was tied up at a small island, where there was little prospect of disturbance by hostile indians; the tribe occupying this part of the country did not have a bad reputation, and there was no real danger, but the pilot was cautious on general principles. watch was kept through the night, but nothing happened to disturb the slumber of those whose duties did not require them to be wakeful, if we except the visits of the mosquitoes. mosquitoes are the pests of the upper part of the entire valley of the amazon. they are found wherever the rains fall, from the foot of the andes, eastward, until within a few hundred miles of the atlantic coast, from which they are kept in great measure, though not entirely, by the force of the trade winds. the middle amazon swarms with them, and the maranon, madeira, and other tributaries are almost uninhabitable at certain seasons of the year, in consequence of these nuisances. they are always on duty, and no manner of objecting to their presence will induce them to leave. [illustration: amazonian mosquitoes at home.] there are several varieties of mosquitoes, some working at night, and others in the daytime; between them they divide the hours, and give their victim no chance for rest. the indians say they always come in greater swarms than usual when a traveller is approaching, and evidently they can scent blood from afar. frank said "the mosquitoes fairly danced with joy at the arrival of our party." a mass meeting was called, which was attended by some millions of mosquitoes, "very hungry and very thirsty." this mass meeting was kept up as long as they were in the region of the upper and middle amazon. after passing manaos, on their way down the river, there were few mosquitoes, and these few were not as voracious as their more uncivilized brethren. parts of brazil and bolivia will long remain unsettled, owing to the perpetual annoyance caused by the mosquitoes. their powers were tested by one traveller, dr. spruce, who, in the interest of science, allowed the insects to feed upon him without interruption, and found they took three ounces of blood daily! our friends were provided with mosquito nettings, and brought them into use on entering the mosquito-haunted region. at night they surrounded their beds with them, and by day kept their heads enveloped in the small nets made for that purpose; in this way they managed to keep from being devoured bodily, or bled to death, but could not escape the annoyance and constant inconvenience of the presence of the dreaded carapana, as he is called by the brazilians. the mosquito is not the only insect pest of the amazon valley. professor orton says the pium, or sand-fly, is almost as bad as the better-known tormentor. he has two triangular, horny lancets, which leave a small circular red spot on the skin. there are several species, all working by day, and relieving the mosquito from sunrise to sunset. then there is the maruim, which resembles the pium, and inhabits some, but not all, of the valleys; humboldt estimated that there was a million of them to a cubic foot of air where he was. there is also the mutuca, which resembles a horse-fly; one variety has a lancet half an inch long, and he knows how to use it to advantage. there is a carapato, or tick, which mounts to the tips of the blades of grass, and attaches himself to any one brushing against them. the carapatas bury themselves so deeply that their heads break off at any attempt to pull them out; their bite is painless, but it often causes sores and ulcers. happily, their range is less extensive than that of the mosquito, and some parts of the country are wholly free from them. frank asked manuel how the natives, who had no nets, managed to get along in the height of the mosquito season. [illustration: an indian of northern bolivia.] "they get along very badly," was the reply. "one plan is to cover their bodies with oil, which the mosquitoes don't like, but it does not drive them away. smudging or smoking keeps them down, but then it is almost as bad for the people as for the mosquitoes. sometimes they bury themselves in the sand, leaving only the head exposed; this they cover with a piece of wetted cloth, either wrapped around the head, or supported above it like a miniature tent. some of the indians plaster their bodies with mud, laying it on like varnish, and allowing it to dry, but it has to be pretty thick to keep the mosquitoes from penetrating it. some of the insects will pierce through any ordinary clothing; i have heard of their going through ordinary shoe-leather, but never saw with my own eyes a mosquito that could do it." sheltered by their nettings, they passed the night in comparative comfort, and were off early in the morning. in fact, the raft was in motion before the youths had risen; the indians were so silent in their movements that they did not disturb the slumber of the travellers. frank made a comparison with the noisy boatmen of the nile which was very much in favor of the indians of the beni. [illustration: breakfast scene on the river bank.] about seven o'clock they stopped for breakfast and the scene was so picturesque that frank made a sketch of it. the spot they chose was under some lofty trees covered with climbing plants, where previous visitors had removed enough of the undergrowth to render the place suitable for a temporary camp. a fire was kindled, and over it they placed a pot for the concoction of a porridge of meat and mandioca flour mingled with water. a hammock was stretched between two of the trees, and a large fish that had been caught early in the morning was hung up by way of ornament. while the soup was in preparation, one of the men busied himself with pounding a piece of bast, or the inner bark of a tree, with a wooden hammer. much of the clothing of the amazonian indians is made in this way; the material resembles the famous tappa-cloth of the south sea islands, and though not very serviceable, it has the merit of great cheapness. the breakfast, when ready, was distributed by the _capitano_ or first mate, who served each man in turn. it was devoured with a good appetite, and in a little while the crew was ready to resume the journey. the travellers amused themselves by studying the peculiarities of the forest, and took their own breakfast while the boat was floating down the stream. "if all goes well," said the doctor, "we shall not be long in reaching the junction with the madeira, and the falls of that stream." "then we have some falls to pass, have we?" frank asked. "yes," replied the doctor, "and they are a serious hinderance to navigation. in descending we can 'shoot' some of them, though not all; but if we were ascending the river it would be different. the boats must be dragged around the falls, or their cargoes unloaded and transported to other boats beyond the falls. "the madeira drains an area of forty thousand square leagues," he continued, "and but for the falls would furnish water communication to the very heart of bolivia. it is the natural waterway of the country, and its upper affluents traverse the richest agricultural region of south america. they have been partially but not wholly explored, and the actual number of miles open to steamboats is not yet known. "there are nineteen falls and rapids, having a descent of nearly three hundred feet altogether. they are scattered along a distance of two hundred and thirty miles. above and below there are no impediments to navigation, with a single exception in the shape of a rapid, which may be passed by a steamboat when the river is high. "the governments of bolivia and brazil have endeavored to overcome these falls by building a canal or a railway around them, and spent considerable money in the preliminary work. it was found that a canal would cost a great deal of money, far more than a railway, and so it was decided to build the latter." "did they build it?" "it has not been built as yet," was the reply, "though a portion of the work has been done. a company was formed in england, principally on paper, with important concessions from the governments interested. engineers were sent out, together with a small force of laborers, but the project came to nothing. then the enterprise was taken up by some americans, who sent colonel george e. church, of new york, to complete the surveys and supervise the construction of the line. he reported favorably upon the prospects of business for the completed railway, which would be less than two hundred miles long. the line leaves the madeira just below the first fall, and comes again to the mamoré above the last one. it avoids the windings of the stream, and thus saves a considerable distance. "colonel church sounded the mamoré for six hundred miles above the rapids, and found always a depth of at least fifteen feet, a width of six hundred feet, and an average current of two miles an hour. he visited santa cruz, trinidad, exaltacion, and some other bolivian towns and cities, and was everywhere cordially welcomed. i am sorry that our time and facilities will not permit us to repeat his journey, as it is through a region rarely seen by travellers. colonel church was preceded by mr. keller, a german engineer; and the stories they tell are full of interest. [illustration: plaza and church at exaltacion.] "they describe exaltacion as a dull, and, at first glance, a deserted town, standing a mile or more from the river. many of its buildings are in ruins, and the walls of the houses are without paint or other ornament. the streets are wide, and the plaza is at least three hundred feet square; the church, with an isolated bell-tower, occupies one side of the plaza, while the other three sides are lined with the dwellings of the indians, rarely more than a single story in height. the church is a large and well-constructed building; it is more than a century old, and has received very few repairs since the day of its completion. "the indians living in the towns of bolivia are nearly all devout catholics, and have been carefully trained in the observances of the church. it is said that when the first jesuit missionary penetrated the beni districts of bolivia, from the frontier of the country, that had been partially civilized, he was immediately killed. another followed soon after, and met the same fate, and then came another. "the indians were astonished beyond description, as it appeared to them to be the same man they had twice put to death. he was identical in dress, appearance, and words, and evidently he was immortal. it would do no good to kill him a third time, and they held a consultation, and concluded he was a god. thus concluding, they worshipped him, listened to his teachings, and adopted his religion, to which they have ever since remained faithful. [illustration: mojos indians celebrating mass.] "in the church they had an organ which was played during mass by one of the indians, while another performed on a sort of pan-pipe of enormous proportions. several tubes were arranged side by side, and fastened together; the largest was about six feet in length, and the opening at its end measured at least four inches. the performer kept his eye on the music before him, and blew into one pipe after another with great facility. the instrument compassed two octaves, and the sound it gave resembled that of a trombone. "the church contains several relics, among them a piece of the true cross, which was brought here by the jesuits nearly two centuries ago. that the people have degenerated somewhat from their old-fashioned honesty is revealed by a little incident of mr. keller's visit to the church. [illustration: a mojos indian.] "in the pedestals of two of the columns he saw some enormous nails, and asked their use. it was explained that in the time of the _padres_ all articles found in the streets were hung on these nails, so that anybody who lost anything would know where to find it. 'but to-day,' said the sacristan, 'these nails rust in their places, for no one thinks of returning what he finds.' colonel church thinks exaltacion must be an exception to the rest of bolivia, as he found everywhere the most scrupulous honesty on the part of the people among whom he travelled. the mojos indians who inhabit the valley of the mamoré are an inoffensive race, and have a high reputation for honesty and integrity. [illustration: the cherimbita.] "some of them wear a curious ornament, known as the _cherimbita_. it is a little rod with a head, and has a general resemblance to an ordinary screw. it is made of white quartz, or some other hard material, and is worn in the under lip, which is pierced for its admission, just as ladies in america, and other countries, have their ears pierced for the wearing of ornaments. "the other towns that were visited did not materially differ from the one already described. they had the same kind of population, the same dilapidated churches, and the same devout worshippers who adhered to the religion taught by the jesuit fathers two hundred years ago. there was said to be a great abundance of silver in all these bolivian towns, but it is far less than formerly. everything imported from other parts of the world is enormously dear, while the products of the country are correspondingly cheap. at exaltacion, english iron was worth four hundred dollars a ton, while gold at ten dollars an ounce was much easier to obtain." chapter xvii. hunting the tapir.--among the caripuna indians.--arrival at the falls of the madeira.--making india-rubber. one day was much like another in the descent of the river, as the party was not disturbed by hostile natives, and met with no accidents of consequence. frank was disappointed in his hopes of hunting-adventures, as the jaguars and pumas persisted in keeping out of sight, and utterly deprived the young gentleman of an opportunity to try his weapons. [illustration: the agouti.] less powerful game abounded, however, since the tapir and the agouti were frequently encountered. the agouti is about the size of a rabbit, which it greatly resembles both in appearance and habits. when pursued it runs rapidly for a short distance and then tries to conceal itself; if it is captured it makes no resistance beyond a plaintive cry. the tapir deserves a more extended notice than the agouti, as he is much larger, and resists the attacks of his enemies with a good deal of vigor. fred's account of a fight with a tapir will give an idea of the characteristics of this animal. "the tapir is very widely distributed through tropical south america, and is probably more generally hunted than any other denizen of the country. his favorite haunts are narrow gorges and moist ravines, and the forests on the banks of all streams, whether large or small, though he prefers the latter. he is like an englishman in desiring a cold bath in the morning, and the first tapir we saw was seated up to his neck in the water, at a bend of the river. we had told manuel to call us when a tapir was discovered, and early one morning he roused us. "frank threw on his garments very hastily, and seized his rifle for a shot at the beast. as he emerged from the tent our pilot whispered, 'anta' (the native name for tapir), and pointed directly ahead of our course. the men had stopped rowing, and were silently urging the raft towards the shore, where it would be concealed from what we hoped to make game of, by an intervening bush. "the desired position was gained without disturbing the animal at his bath, and under cover of the bank we drew quite near. only his head was visible; frank aimed and fired, and the head disappeared. soon it came to the surface, and there was a loud snort which showed that the beast had been thoroughly alarmed. "the rowers now did their best, as further concealment was unnecessary. with loud cries they urged the raft forward, but the unwieldy concern could not be turned as quickly as the tapir was able to double on us. fortunately for us, he only tried two or three times to double, or he would have escaped altogether; after these efforts he struck straight across the river, where we came up to him and were able to throw a harpoon into his back. he had been severely wounded by frank, and after the harpoon was thrown he was easily secured. it is always desirable to harpoon a tapir after shooting him in the water, as he dives to the bottom, and if he dies there his body does not rise. "we had tapir steaks for breakfast, and found them very good. they resembled beef, though they were rather more dry than that well-known article of food; we had been rather limited in our supply of fresh provisions, and consequently the tapir steak was not to be despised. the flesh of this animal is highly prized by the natives; it is eaten fresh, like beef or pork, and is preserved by drying or salting. "but this is not the fight i was going to tell about. one day we stopped at a village where there was a tame tapir running among the houses; it was perfectly docile, and allowed the boys to ride on its back as often and as long as they liked. the alcalde of the village told us how it was caught, a few months' before, in a hunting-excursion, only a few miles from the place. [illustration: hunting the tapir.] "the alcalde kept several dogs especially for hunting the tapir. the hunter takes his position in a canoe carefully concealed in the bushes near the end of a tapir's road. the tapir lays out his own path with the skill of an engineer; he goes along this path regularly every morning, from his haunt to his bath in the river, and then from the river to his haunt again. the dogs are let loose near the tapir's retreat, and the frightened animal runs to the river for safety. "he dives and swims with great rapidity, but the hunter is generally successful in capturing him. he is shot or speared as he takes to the water, evading the dogs only to fall into the hands of his human enemy. "on the occasion i speak of the alcalde had gone for his customary sport, and roused a tapir. the keeper of the dogs was with these animals, while the alcalde was waiting at the river ready to shoot the game when it appeared. but it happened to be a female anta, this time, and she had a young tapir with her. the male flees before the dogs, but the female with a cub does nothing of the sort; she remains in her lair and defends the little fellow, who crouches beneath her and indicates his alarm by short, shrill whistles. she never yields, and is a terrible foe for the dogs. her teeth do effective work on any of them that come too near, and her powerful fore-legs crush their ribs as though they were made of paper. "the alcalde waited, but the tapir did not come. at length one of his men appeared, and said that two of the six dogs had been killed by the tapir and another was severely hurt. they were young dogs, and had not shown proper caution; the old and experienced ones had refrained from venturing within reach of jaws or feet, and confined their attentions to barking at a safe distance. "the alcalde hastened to the spot, and with his gun soon laid low the desperate animal. the young tapir was secured unhurt and brought home to the village. it was kindly treated, and in three days it followed its master around like a dog, and was perfectly domesticated. the animal lives on vegetable food (grass, fruit, and roots), and consequently he is easy to keep. this was the tame tapir that we saw; he was perfectly amiable in disposition, but his great size rendered him unsuitable to be maintained as a house pet, and he had been turned into the street to make his own living. i was told that the tame tapir never shows any disposition to return to his native wilds. in this respect he resembles the elephant, and i believe the naturalists class him in the elephant family. "the alcalde had a houseful of pets, including several birds and monkeys, and, strangest of all, a snake. it was perfectly free, and was kept for killing rats, mice, lizards, and other things that were more destructive of the owner's property than is the snake. manuel said it was a giboia, a species of boa constrictor; it is not poisonous, and when taken young is easily tamed. frank was reminded of the rat-snake they had seen in ceylon, and thought it must be the first cousin of the giboia." [illustration: water-snakes at home.] snakes are less common in south america than is generally supposed, though they are numerous enough for all practical purposes. there are one hundred and fifty species in all, while a similar area in tropical asia contains three hundred varieties. most of them are non-poisonous, but the proportion of venomous snakes is greater than in india or ceylon. the largest member of the serpent family is the boa; it has been found twenty-six feet long, though it rarely exceeds twenty feet. the largest of the boas can kill and swallow a small horse, while a goat or sheep forms only a comfortable mouthful. one of the most venomous is the coral, which haunts the cacao plantations, and has a fatal bite. ammonia is used as an antidote to snake-bites, but the application must be made in a few minutes, before the poison is diffused in the blood. doses of strong coffee, brandy, or some other stimulant will sometimes keep up the action of the heart and neutralize the effect of the poison until the victim is out of danger. [illustration: rattlesnake disturbed by a wildcat.] the alcalde showed some of the venomous snakes that he kept as curiosities, but wisely restrained of their liberty. among them was a rattlesnake, which appeared to be identical with the rattlesnake of north america; a "parrot-snake" of a dull green color, which makes it difficult to discover among the grass and leaves, and a "surucucu," which does not belong to the valley of the mamoré, but inhabits the lower amazon and the rio negro. the coral snake, already mentioned, was among them; he was a pretty serpent (if serpents can be called pretty), of a vermilion hue striped with black bands. the youths stood at a respectful distance while surveying the collection, and did not care for a near acquaintance. manuel said that serious accidents from the bites of snakes were far less frequent than might be supposed. natives are the principal sufferers, partly for the reason that the number of europeans is not large, and partly because they go constantly clothed, which is not the case with the natives. it is the same as in india and ceylon, where thousands of natives die every year from snake-bites, while not half a dozen deaths of europeans from this cause have occurred during the century. they passed from the beni into the madeira, and found the river increased to double its former volume. frank and fred looked anxiously up the madeira, and wished they could explore the stream to its source; but as the wish could not be gratified, they quickly dismissed it from their thoughts. their pilot said they were in the country of the caripuna indians, and it was quite possible that some of these aboriginals would pay them a visit at their next halting-place. "the caripunas were formerly quite hostile to the white men," said manuel, "and used to attack the boats that went up or down the river. with boats going down stream they could not do much, as the pilots keep in the middle of the current and float along with it, but in ascending the river it is necessary to keep close to the bank, and this was the opportunity for them to make trouble. they had a spite against the mojos indians, and the latter had great fear of the caripunas, who had the reputation of roasting and eating their victims, whether they did so or not. but since the surveys were made for the railway, and trade on the river has increased, they have made no trouble; they have found that they can do better by being friendly to the white man, and begging what he has to give them." [illustration: visiting the caripunas.] while they were halted for breakfast three canoes put out from a nook on the opposite shore; two of them paddled across to where the raft was tied up, while the third went a little way up the stream and stopped near the bank, as if waiting to see what reception would be given to their friends. each canoe contained two men and one woman, all wearing very little clothing, and having their hair thick and long, so as to cover the shoulders. they had bows and arrows in their canoes, but did not offer to use them or even to pick them up, with the exception of one indian, who took his weapons over his shoulder and stepped on shore. [illustration: a caripuna indian.] in spite of his scanty costume he was rather picturesque in appearance, as he had ornaments in his ears and a necklace of jaguar's claws hanging on his breast. by signs, he invited the party to visit their camp on the other side of the river; the rowers were timid about venturing there, but the doctor quieted their fears by intimating, through manuel and the pilot, that the weapons of the party were sufficient to defend them in case of trouble. the caripunas were given to understand that the visit would be made as soon as breakfast was over; they seemed perfectly satisfied with this arrangement, and returned to their canoes, where they sat until the meal was finished. the return of the boatmen to their oars was the signal for the caripunas, who paddled on ahead and indicated the best place for landing. the landing was made without difficulty, and the whole population of the village, some twenty or thirty men, women, and children, came out to meet the strangers. for fear of treachery, dr. bronson gave orders that none of the rowers should leave their places; manuel was to remain standing by the side of the boat, and the three americans were not to go more than a few yards from the shore, where the huts of the indians stood about ten feet above the water's level. an old man, who was evidently the chief of the tribe, came forward and led the way to an open shed between the two principal huts. it was evidently a place of public resort, and corresponded to the city hall or court-house of civilized lands. all the rest of the natives followed, and the conversation soon became as animated as it is possible to make it where neither party understands a word the other says. frank observed that the skins of the natives were of a reddish-brown color, and the tallest of them did not exceed five feet eight inches in height. beads, small mirrors, fish-hooks, and similar barbaric goods were distributed in the shape of presents, and then our friends tried to make a bargain for whatever the indians had to sell. unfortunately they had only a few bows and arrows and some feathers from the birds of the forest; beyond these nothing was in the market; and as the natives were unwilling to part with their weapons, it required a good deal of persuasion and the display of the glittering baubles to secure their consent. with these trifles the strangers were compelled to be satisfied, and after a visit of an hour or more they returned to their boat and continued the voyage. a curious fact was ascertained by mr. keller in his visit to the caripunas, that they bury their dead in their houses, removing the earth of the floor for that purpose. when a space beneath a hut is occupied with graves the place is abandoned, and a new dwelling is erected elsewhere. this is deserted in its turn, under the same conditions. the caripunas are skilful hunters and fishermen; they cultivate the soil occasionally, but not often, depending for their vegetable food upon the products of the forest. some attempts have been made to civilize this people, but they have not succeeded, except in convincing them that it is better to be on friendly terms with their neighbors than in open hostility. when the travellers reached guajara-merim, the first of the falls of the madeira, their contract with their boatmen terminated. the men were paid off, each one receiving a small present in addition to his wages, and the pilot a larger one, in proportion to his importance. there is a small village of mojos indians just above the falls, and their special occupation is to transport travellers and their property up or down the stream. manuel opened negotiations, but they could not be rapidly pushed, as it is not the custom of this people to do anything in a hurry. it took an entire day to finish the transaction. a "garitea," a boat of about four tons' burden and having a crew of twelve men, was engaged for the voyage to san antonio, at the foot of the lowest rapid. in addition to the crew there was a thirteenth man as pilot or captain, one of the twelve being second in command. some of the rapids may be passed without danger in descending the river, and without the necessity of unloading the cargo; at others the cargo must be taken out, and the empty boat navigated down the rapids; while at others both boat and cargo must be taken around over the land. the whole distance where the boats must be drawn overland is nearly three miles, while for more than two miles the cargoes must be taken out in order to save them from possible damage or loss. [illustration: a walk in the forest.] frank and fred had plenty of time for studying the falls of the madeira and making a short excursion into the forest in the vicinity, as another day was required for getting ready to start after the bargain had been concluded for the hire of the boat and its crew. we will refer to fred's note-book for an account of what they saw and learned. "there is a village of caripuna indians," wrote fred, "a little way inland from the falls, and we paid it a visit. most of the men were away on a fishing excursion, and the few that remained did not have anything we could buy. we made them some presents, but did not stay long, as we wanted to see a rubber-tree, and the manner of collecting the india-rubber of commerce. "we had a guide from the mojos village at the falls; he had been a collector of rubber, and spoke enough spanish to enable us to understand his explanations. since the surveys were made for the railway a good many mojos indians have settled here, and they do quite a business in collecting rubber and sending it down the river to market. [illustration: branch of the india-rubber tree.] "the rubber-trees are abundant on both sides of the river for a long distance in either direction. how far inland they may be found is not definitely known. the scientific name of the tree is _siphonia elastica_, or _siphonia cachucha_, but there are several other trees that produce the gum which is so largely used in american and european industry. an incision is made in the side of the tree, and a cup made of leaves and clay is so placed as to catch the juice which flows from the cut. in a few hours the cup is filled, and a man comes around with a large jar in which the juice is collected. "the liquid is about the consistency of milk, and contains from ten to twenty per cent. of gum. it is poured into shallow basins, very often into empty turtle-shells, and allowed to stand in the sun, by which a good deal of the liquid is evaporated. when it is about the thickness of ordinary cream it is poured into a turtle-shell, and an indian sits down to convert the liquid into rubber. [illustration: india-rubber making on the madeira.] "he has a small fire made of palm nuts, and over the fire is an inverted jar with a hole in the bottom, through which the smoke ascends. he dips a paddle into the cream, and then holds it over the hole in the jar until it is dried by the heat, which must always be gentle, through fear of spoiling the rubber. when the gum is hardened he dips the paddle again, and again dries it; he repeats the process until the desired thickness is secured. "when the rubber is thick enough it is cut off and is ready for market. instead of a paddle he sometimes uses a mould of clay; formerly they made moulds resembling the human foot, and thus fashioned the rubber shoes that were worn in america forty or fifty years ago. fantastic figures were traced on the shoes with the end of a hot wire, and the mould was generally soaked in water till it fell to pieces, and the clay could be washed out. the modern processes of working rubber have driven these shoes from the market, and very few of them are made at present. "a good day's work for one man is six pounds of rubber. another way of hardening the gum is to place it in a kettle and suspend it over a small fire, taking care not to burn the material. when it is sufficiently reduced, and is still warm and plastic, it is shaped into balls or bricks, weighing several pounds each; the buyers prefer to have it dried on the paddle, as the natives occasionally commit frauds by putting sand or lumps of clay inside the masses while shaping them. the deception can only be detected by cutting carefully through the mass, and dividing it into small pieces. frank suggests that the natives have probably heard of some of the tricks attributed to connecticut yankees, but i think he must be mistaken. "the rubber of the amazon valley is considered the best in the world, and the amount of the product is rapidly increasing. i am told it is not far from six thousand tons a year, and will be increased to ten thousand tons as soon as the means of transportation from bolivia are made more practicable. this does not include the rubber sent from the northern part of the continent, from the country not drained by the amazon. "we call this substance 'india-rubber,' because it was first brought from the indies, but, properly speaking, the name does not belong to it at the present day. the greater part of the rubber of commerce is from south america, which produces more than all other countries together." "and why is it called _rubber_?" frank asked. "because," replied fred, "it was first used in england for rubbing out pencil-marks. it was imported into england for that purpose about the end of the last century, and was greatly esteemed by artists, who paid high prices for it; it was popularly called 'lead-eater,' and in some parts of england it is yet known by that name. it was not until that its use extended much beyond the erasure of pencil-marks; its first important use was in the manufacture of water-proof clothing, and about the same time it was employed for the formation of flexible tubes, and for other purposes. "it is a curious fact that the uses of rubber which have been discovered in england and america in the present century were known in south america nearly three hundred years ago. in a book published in madrid in , juan de torquemada describes a tree in mexico yielding a gum from which the natives make shoes and other things, and he also says that the spaniards used this gum for waxing their canvas cloaks to make them resist water. herrara's account of the second voyage of columbus mentions balls which the natives of hayti use in their amusements; he says they are made from the gum of a tree, and are lighter and bounce better than the wind-balls of castile." when the above notes were read over to the doctor he suggested an addition, which was made at once. "by far the most extensive uses of this material at present are in its vulcanized form, as the pure india-rubber can only be employed to a limited extent. the process of vulcanizing was discovered by an american, charles goodyear, in , and consists in mixing rubber with sulphur and heating it to a high degree. there are two kinds of vulcanized rubber, one hard and horny, and the other soft and elastic; for the first the rubber is cut into small shreds, mixed with a third of its weight of sulphur, and heated for several hours, the final heat being not less than ° fahrenheit. for the elastic rubber the proportion of sulphur and the degree of heat are much less. an endless variety of articles is made from the two kinds of vulcanized rubber." "while we are on this subject," said frank, "i wonder if there is a cow-tree in this region. the cow-tree is a south american production, is it not?" "yes," answered the doctor, "but it is not in this part of the continent, or, at any rate, the most famous of the family does not grow in the lowlands. there are several trees known by that name, but the _palo do vaca_ is found principally in venezuela and the northern part of the continent, generally at an elevation of three or four thousand feet." "please tell us what it is like." [illustration: leaves, fruit, and flowers of the cow-tree.] "it is a tall, slender tree, with leaves resembling the laurel in shape, but ten or twelve inches long. it grows in rocky places where there is very little moisture, and during the dry season its leaves are withered and the branches appear dead. but as soon as the trunk is pierced it gives forth a rich, nourishing juice that resembles milk in appearance, taste, and qualities, though it differs materially from the milk of animals. it contains a good deal of wax and fibrin, a little sugar and a salt of magnesia, the rest being water." [illustration: milking the cow-tree.] "and does it make cream like the milk of a living cow?" "yes; after standing a short time it becomes yellow and forms a sort of cream on the surface; this cream will gradually thicken into a semblance of cheese before it begins to putrefy. and the tree further resembles the cow in having its best milking-time in the morning; it yields more juice at sunrise than at any other time, and before daylight the natives gather at the trees to fill their bowls with the milk. the negroes and indians drink freely of this milk, but the white inhabitants generally care little for it." frank fell to meditating upon the feasibility of introducing the cow-tree into his father's orchard, and having a supply of milk where it did not need to be driven up at night. his calculations were suddenly interrupted by the announcement that dinner was ready, and his practical nature, backed by a good appetite, put an immediate end to his enterprise. chapter xviii. slow transit.--passing around the falls.--ancient inscriptions.--the madeira to the amazon.--the january river.--the amazon forest. [illustration: dragging a boat around teotonio.] the garitea was placed on rollers, and dragged along the ground, over a road that was by no means smooth. it was hard work for the indians, particularly as the day was warm, but they toiled steadily, and did not once pause till they had launched the boat into the river below guajara-merim. then they returned for the baggage, which was distributed among them, under the watchful eyes of dr. bronson and frank. fred and manuel had preceded the baggage, and were ready to superintend its reception and stowage in the boat. in spite of the difficulties of this rude mode of transportation there is a considerable traffic between bolivia and the lower amazon, around the falls of the madeira. colonel church says it amounts to more than a thousand tons a year, and many bulky and heavy articles are carried through safely. pianos have even been sent from brazil to the interior of bolivia by this route, and, what is strangest of all, they have arrived in perfect order, and were ready for use after a little attention from the tuner. the same gentleman, in speaking of the mojos indians of the department of the beni, says their imitative powers are wonderful. the law requires that all voters shall be able to write. on the day of election an indian comes to the polls to vote for a president or a deputy to congress; without knowing a letter of the alphabet he copies in a clear and legible hand the name of the one for whom he votes. he will also copy an entire manuscript in any language, without knowing a word of it. when everything was ready the boat was pushed off, and the voyage continued to the next rapid, where the same process was repeated. as before stated, some of the rapids were passed without the necessity of unloading, while at others the cargo, and sometimes both cargo and boat, required to be carried overland. once the boat was run upon a rock and considerably injured, but happily none of the cargo was damaged, and neither passengers nor crew suffered harm. [illustration: inscriptions on the rocks at ribeirao.] during one of their halts, while passing the falls, frank and fred amused themselves by copying some curious inscriptions on the rocks. these were more numerous at the falls known as the ribeirao than at any other place, and were evidently the result of long and patient work. [illustration: cuttings on stones near the rapids.] the inscriptions are nearly all in regular lines, and were made with great care. they are certainly not the work of the people now occupying this region, and their signification is unknown. they were made ages and ages ago, judging by the appearance of the stones, and it is supposed that the cutting was done with chisels of flint or quartz. the stones bearing the inscriptions are very hard and smooth, and not far from the edge of the river at the low stage of water. in the season of floods they are covered, and the action of the water has worn away some of the lines so that they are barely visible. near another fall there are some deep lines cut in one of the granite rocks; they are nearly half an inch in depth, and cross each other at different angles. whether they were made at the same time and by the same people as the others it is impossible to ascertain. on the eighth day the passage around teotonio, the last of the falls, was safely accomplished, and the garitea floated in front of san antonio. this is a small town, which was founded when the surveys of the railway were begun, and has had a somewhat checkered existence. the boatmen were paid off and discharged; the baggage of the party was stored in a little house temporarily hired for its reception, and for the accommodation of the travellers. san antonio owes its existence to the railway enterprise. at one time several hundred men were gathered there, principally laborers from spain and the west indies, and it was expected that the work of opening the railway line would be vigorously prosecuted. but the men died off so rapidly as to seriously impede the undertaking; those that survived became alarmed and deserted the spot, and down to the visit of our friends all attempts to make a permanent settlement at san antonio had failed. there was but one white man in the place--a brazilian, in charge of the property that belonged to the railway company. his haggard features and sallow complexion told that he was suffering from fever, and he promptly confirmed what had been said of the unhealthiness of the region. "the obstacle which has prevented the construction of the railway," said he, in answer to dr. bronson's question, "was one not easy to foresee. the engineers who visited the place, and made a preliminary examination of the route, did not remain long enough to suffer from the pestilential atmosphere, and consequently they did not know of it. but when the labor actually began the case was different, the men died off very fast, and it soon took all the time of those who could get about to care for the sufferers and bury the dead. "there are no engineering difficulties to prevent the construction of the line, as the country is only slightly undulating, and there are but few rivers to cross. but it appears that there are terrible fevers lurking wherever cataracts in tropical countries fall over granite rocks. there are hollows between the rocks that retain the waters when the rivers fall from their highest levels, and these waters become stagnant pools. vegetation decays in these pools, and they give off miasmatic vapors under the heat of the tropical sun. europeans die rapidly in consequence, and even the negroes and natives cannot long endure the poisonous atmosphere. [illustration: buried in the tropical forest.] "mr. davis, the english engineer who came here to superintend the work, endeavored to improve the place by blowing up the rocks at the pools, and where this could not be done he set his men to pumping out the water in order to drain off the surplus and arrest the decay. he accomplished a good deal in this way, but fell a victim to the fevers, and died in spite of all the efforts of the doctor to save him. his grave is in the forest, just behind the village. "the loss of the chief disheartened his subordinates, and all who could leave made haste to do so. the mojos indians and the caripunas do not appear to be affected by the climate, but they cannot be induced to work at railway building, preferring employment in transporting goods and boats around the falls." the information thus obtained made the little party of strangers desirous of leaving san antonio as soon as possible. the indians took advantage of their desire by demanding a high price for carrying them down the river. a steamer was expected to arrive in a few days, but they were unwilling to wait there, wisely preferring to spend the time in a less unhealthy locality. dr. bronson told manuel to engage a boat at any price, on the condition that it would leave at once, and the negotiation was speedily made. three hours after the conversation with the brazilian the boat with our friends and their baggage pushed off from shore, and floated on the current of the madeira. the fever-stricken residents of san antonio gazed sadly after them, and mourned the fortune that detained them in that deadly place. night came an hour or two after their departure, but the boat did not stop, as it had been agreed that the rowers would not rest until reaching the mouth of the january river, about fifty miles below san antonio. the january joins the madeira from the east, and at the point of junction there is a large house occupied by the bolivian consul, who has charge of the madeira district, extending from the mouth of that river to the falls. it was about nine in the forenoon when the boat reached this point and drew up to the bank. dr. bronson had no official letters from the bolivian authorities, as he had not visited the capital of the country, or any of its important towns, but he was cordially received by the consul, and invited to remain until the return of the steamboat, which was expected to pass up the river the same day on its way to san antonio. his family was away, and he had an abundance of room, and after repeated assurances of welcome the invitation was accepted. the boatmen were retained for an excursion up the january, and the baggage of the party was carried to the rooms they were to occupy during their stay. the rest of the day was spent in the society of the consul, who told them many things of interest concerning the madeira and its tributaries. the steamboat passed in the afternoon, making a brief stop at the landing, and it was arranged that she should return to take them away in a week or ten days at farthest. [illustration: banana in blossom.] the consul's house was a large two-story building, and the upper floor commanded fine views of the two rivers; his reception-room on this floor was open on three sides, but could be closed by curtains whenever required. a fine breeze blew during the afternoon, and both frank and fred declared they had not, in months, found such an agreeable lounging-place. all the sleeping-rooms were provided with mosquito-nettings; mosquitoes are abundant and persistent throughout the year, and every precaution must be taken against them. the next morning the party went up the january with their boat, and were absent three days. they visited a camp of rubber collectors, which was controlled by a bolivian who had obtained a grant of land, with the exclusive right of gathering rubber thereon for a term of years. he had some forty or fifty men in his employ, all indians from bolivia. frank learned something about the business which he had not ascertained in their previous visit to the rubber collectors, and we are permitted to copy it from his note-book. "the whole rubber trade of the amazon is run upon the credit system. the employer keeps his men constantly in debt, and as long as they are owing him for goods he can claim their work. they are engaged for a term of years, but in consequence of their debts are practically never released from their contract. "next, the employer is in debt to the small traders in the river towns, to whom he sells his rubber; he pays very dear for his goods, and gets a low price for the products of his enterprise. then the small trader is in debt to the wholesale dealer at para, and the wholesalers are in debt to london and new york, where the rubber goes for a market. heavy profits are made in every transaction, and the result of it is that the indian who collects the gum and prepares the crude rubber works for very low wages, and is paid in goods at very high prices. the annual exportation from para is said to be twenty million pounds of rubber, worth from six to eight million dollars. [illustration: rubber tree and parasites.] "rubber trees begin to yield when they are fifteen years old, and it has been proposed to cultivate rubber by planting large areas with trees, and conducting the business like that of a coffee or sugar plantation. but the necessity of waiting fifteen years before any return can be obtained for the outlay will naturally deter capitalists from making investments." [illustration: station of a rubber collector.] while on the january our friends saw a new way of catching turtles. an indian stood on the bow of his canoe, watching the water, with bow and arrow ready. suddenly he aimed the arrow at the sky, drew it to the head, and fired. it rose to a great height, then made a graceful curve, and descended. it struck the water within twenty feet of the indian, pierced the shell of a turtle, and the creature was secured in the manner already described. manuel explained that this was the only way in which the shells of the large turtles could be pierced, the arrow obtaining great penetrative force through the momentum it acquires in descending. the indians are so expert in this difficult mode of shooting that they rarely miss their mark. the january is not an important river, and the only settlements along its banks are those of the rubber collectors. some of them have made clearings, and established banana and mandioca groves, but none of these groves rise to the dignity of plantations. the return to the consul's house was safely made, and the rest of the time of waiting for the steamer was passed in writing up the story of the journey and preparing letters for home. they did not expect to make any delay in their journey down the amazon, and if the boat kept to her schedule she would reach para just in time for the outward mail for new york. the steamers leave manaos, on the amazon, for san antonio on the th of every month, and in the busy seasons of the year there is generally an extra steamer about the middle of the month. between manaos and para there is always a fortnightly and generally a weekly service each way, and from manaos most of the tributaries of the amazon have a monthly service as far as they are navigable. steam navigation on the amazon had its beginning in , but its growth has not been rapid, owing to the slow development of commerce. in brazil declared the amazon open to the ships of all nations, but practically the navigation of the river is under the brazilian flag. steamers of any nationality may ascend to manaos, one thousand miles above para; from that point brazilian steamers run to the frontier of peru, where they connect with peruvian steamers navigating almost to the base of the great andean chain. at present the entire service is performed by about fifty steamers, some of large size and others light enough for the fancy of the western captain who desired a craft that could run where a heavy dew had fallen. the smallest of the steamers is less than twenty tons' burden, while the largest exceeds a thousand tons. the following note by colonel church will give an idea of the extent of the navigable waters of the amazon: "south america contains seven millions of square miles. the amazon river drains over one third of this vast area. its basin is more than twice the size of the valley of the mississippi. it would hold forty-nine countries the size of england. only by floating on the majestic tide of the amazon does one get an idea of its mass of waters. the mississippi river, poured into it near its mouth, would not raise it six inches. in bolivia, on the beni branch of its madeira affluent, two thousand miles from its outlet, it is one hundred and seventy feet deep! it presents still more astonishing soundings the same distance up the main stream. with its branches it offers not less than fifteen thousand miles of waters suitable for steamboat navigation. the bolivian affluents of its main branch alone count three thousand miles of river navigation. one half of this is suitable for steamers drawing six feet of water, and the other half for craft drawing three feet." the great lack of the amazon valley is in population; until it is peopled it will be impossible to develop commerce to any great extent. there are not fifty thousand inhabitants on the banks of the great river from a point one hundred miles above para to the base of the andes; professor orton says the amazon valley is the most thinly peopled region on the surface of the globe, with the exception of the great deserts and the polar zones. even including the savage indians who dwell away from the rivers, the number of inhabitants is not great. raimondi, who is considered an excellent authority, gives the peruvian province of loreto, which stretches from ecuador to cuzco, and from the crest of the andes to the brazilian frontier, a population of less than seventy thousand. he puts the wild indians at forty thousand, and allows thirty thousand for all other races and kinds of men! [illustration: a river town.] in their voyage down the river, frank and fred found that many of the towns marked on the map had no existence whatever, and some of the most pretentious could not boast half a dozen huts. several towns had each but a single dwelling, and one was only to be recognized by a post set in the bank to uphold a sign-board bearing the name of the place. dr. bronson said he was reminded of the days of land speculations in the west, when elaborate maps were printed of so-called "cities," which never had any existence beyond the paper one of the speculative founders. back from the river the population is as scattered and scanty as upon its banks; there is room for millions of people in the valley of the amazon, and but for the great density of the forests, the fevers and other diseases, and the pestiferous insects that fill the air from beginning to end of the year, the country would doubtless attract emigration from the overcrowded cities and rural districts of europe. brazil has made repeated efforts to attract emigration, but thus far they have amounted to very little; a few thousand germans and others have gone there, but their experience has not been such as to encourage the coming of others. it will doubtless be a long time before the amazon valley can honestly claim half a dozen inhabitants to the square mile. in due time the steamer returned from san antonio, and our friends continued their journey. they were the only passengers, and had things their own way. the steamer had a large upper saloon, open on all sides, but capable of being closed in by curtains in bad weather. there was a long table in the centre at which meals were served, and at each corner of the saloon stood an earthen jar filled with drinking water which had been carefully filtered. the water of the amazon and its tributaries contains many vegetable impurities; it should not be drank without filtering, and the prudent traveller will also have it boiled. between the table and the sides of the saloon there were hooks for suspending hammocks; manuel explained that they could hang their hammocks in any unoccupied places, sleeping there by night and reclining during the day. they could have private cabins on the main-deck if they preferred, but the private rooms were less airy, and not to be desired. by a party just from the trip over the andes and down the beni such a proposal was naturally laughed at; the youths and their mentor swung their hammocks where they liked, and enjoyed the beautiful panorama that was unfolded to their eyes as the steamer moved on her course. frank declared it the perfection of travelling comfort to lie in a hammock and study the scenery with hardly the motion of a muscle; it surpassed the indolence of a chair on the deck of a transatlantic steamship, or the fauteuil of a pullman car from new york to san francisco. but it is proper to add that neither of the young gentlemen adhered closely to his hammock during the daytime, in spite of any theories in that direction. they were here, there, and everywhere on the steamboat; now studying the magnificent forest that passed before their eyes, or gazing into the dark waters through which they ploughed their way. turtles and great fishes were their delight, and of the former at least there was no lack. when a sand-bar was approached they eagerly scanned it with their glasses in search of alligators, and as these products of the river were abundant and sand-bars were numerous, they had plenty of amusement in this line. the ordinary life on the steamboat, so far as meals were concerned, was as follows: coffee was served as soon as the passengers were out of their hammocks, and if they were specially inclined to laziness they had it before they rose. breakfast was served at ten o'clock, dinner at five, and tea at eight. at breakfast and dinner there was a plentiful supply of meat, sometimes half a dozen courses being served of meats alone. live turtles and fowls were kept on board for the wants of the table; on the large steamers on the lower amazon there are always a few bullocks carried along and slaughtered when wanted, in addition to chickens and turtles. rice and farina are abundantly supplied at every meal, and the cook (a chinaman) brought back recollections of java and india in his skill in making curries and _pilaufs_. the captain of a steamer on the amazon has an allowance for feeding the passengers and crew; sometimes he delegates the purchases to the cook, but quite as often he takes the matter into his own hands and does his buying in person. by so doing he avoids extravagance, and escapes the inevitable "squeezes" of the cook. [illustration: pira-rucÛ, a fish of the amazon.] the captains are usually paid a salary, and commissions on the freight and passengers; in a prosperous season the commissions will amount to more than the salary, and if the captain has an inclination to dishonesty his opportunities are excellent. most of the steamboats receive a subsidy from the government, which guarantees them against loss, and altogether their business shows a very good profit. with stoppages at the various landings where real or imaginary villages existed, the voyage from the mouth of the january river to the junction of the madeira and the amazon occupied four days. it was enlivened by several incidents of an amusing character, and one or two that threatened to be serious. [illustration: deposits in the amazon valley.] once the boat ran hard aground on a sand-bar, and for some time it was feared that the whole cargo would need to be removed to lighten the craft sufficiently to get her off. but by pulling hard upon ropes fastened to anchors placed in the rear of the boat, and a vigorous backing of the engines at the same time, they managed to get afloat. one morning, while crawling along through a fog, they crashed into the bank, but happily with no great force; some of the lighter work of the boat was broken, but the hull remained uninjured. when near the amazon the boat struck hard against something that was supposed to be a log. the engines were stopped, and an examination showed that instead of a log it was a huge turtle, that had evidently been taking a nap on the surface, and was unconscious of the steamer's approach. one afternoon, as they were turning a point under the overhanging branches of an immense tree, the upper works of the boat brushed against a wasps' nest; the disturbed insects came on board without invitation, and for some minutes they made things very lively. frank was stung on the nose, and that ornament of his face began to swell almost immediately; it was assuming gigantic proportions when the doctor made an application of ammonia that soon neutralized the effect of the poison, though not until the youth had suffered considerable pain. [illustration: wasp-nest, showing interior construction.] manuel explained that the particular kind of wasp which had caused the trouble was known as the "yessi marabunta," a large black wasp with a powerful sting. his nest in the limbs of a tree resembles a dutch cheese, and it is generally inhabited by a large family. there are several varieties of wasp on the amazon; all of them are troublesome, and some are actually dangerous to life. away from the rivers they are numerous in the neighborhood of springs, and cause great annoyance to cattle going to drink; in the towns and villages they take possession of the upper part of the houses, building their nests under the eaves and beneath the roof. woe betide the individual who disturbs them in their occupations, unless he is protected by coverings their lances cannot penetrate. while they were passing under another tree a snake dropped on board, close to where the captain was standing on the upper deck, engaged in giving directions to the man at the wheel. it was a member of the boa family, about six feet in length; though he was classed as "harmless," there was a manifest desire of the captain to get out of the reptile's way, and both frank and fred, who were in the vicinity, showed similar inclinations. the intruder was equally frightened, and wriggled towards the edge of the deck, whence a push with a pole sent him spinning overboard. the beauty of the forest that bordered the river was a never-ending source of attraction to our friends. giant trees and trees of lower stature covered the banks, and extended back from the shore as far as the eye could reach. their trunks were almost concealed by the profusion of climbing plants, and their foliage was intermingled with bright orchids, some of immense size, and with colors rivalling those of the rainbow. the variety of the trees and plants was bewildering, and as our friends gazed hour by hour upon the ever-changing panorama, with its ever-sameness, they realized that it would be a labor of years for a botanist, to number and classify the vegetable growths comprised in the limits of a single day's travel. [illustration: leaves, nut, and flowers of sapucaya, an amazon tree.] fred copied into his note-book the following, from professor orton's narrative: "no spot on the globe contains so much vegetable matter as the valley of the amazon. in it we may draw a circle a thousand miles in diameter, which will include an evergreen forest broken only by the rivers and a few grassy _campos_. there is a most bewildering diversity of grand and beautiful trees--a wild, unconquered race of vegetable giants--draped, festooned, corded, matted, and ribboned with creeping and climbing plants, woody and succulent, in endless variety. [illustration: ferns, trees, and creepers.] "the flowers are on the top. on many of the trees not a single blossom is to be found at a height less than one hundred feet. the glory of the forest can be seen only by sailing in a balloon over the undulating flowery surface above. there, too, in that green cloud, are the insects and birds and monkeys. you are in 'the empty nave of the cathedral, and the service is being celebrated aloft in the blazing roof.' in place of mosses and lichens, the trunks and boughs are bearded with orchids, ferns, tillandsias, and cactuses, frequently forming hanging gardens of great beauty. the branches are so thoroughly interwoven, and so densely veiled with twiners and epiphytes, that one sees little more than a green wall. he might roam a hundred years in the amazon thicket, and at the end find it impossible to classify the myriad crowded, competing shapes of vegetation. the exuberance of nature, displayed in these million square miles of tangled, impenetrable forest, offers a bar to civilization nearly as great as its sterility in the african deserts." chapter xix. from the madeira to the rio negro.--other tributaries of the amazon.--notes on the great river.--manaos.--down the amazon to para. entering the amazon from the madeira, the steamer turned her prow to the westward and ascended the great river for sixty miles, to the mouth of the rio negro. the yellow waters of the amazon and madeira had reminded frank and fred of the mississippi; there was some dispute between them as to which of the two streams was dirtier in color, but they finally agreed that the madeira was the worse of the two. "we will compare the madeira to the missouri," said fred, "and the united stream to the mississippi as we see it below the mouth of the ohio." frank agreed to this distinction, and there the discussion ended. the amazon brings down a vast amount of alluvial matter which it receives from its tributaries, in addition to what it breaks away from the banks on its own account below the mouth of the madeira. the sediment is carried far into the sea, and there is no proper delta at its mouth, as with the other great rivers of the world. frank made some notes concerning the great river, which we will now introduce. "the amazon," said he, "is undoubtedly the largest river on the globe, but it is not the longest. lieutenant herndon estimates its length, considering the huallaga as the head-stream, at three thousand nine hundred and forty-four miles; another authority makes it three thousand miles; another two thousand seven hundred and fifty, and other travellers give various figures up to three thousand six hundred miles. the differences arise from disputes as to which of the tributaries should be called the head-stream. "the amazon is rather a vast system of rivers than a river by itself. more than three hundred and fifty branches and tributaries unite to form the amazon; all the rivers flowing from the eastern slope of the andes from three degrees north latitude to nineteen degrees south latitude, a distance of two thousand miles, as we follow the windings of the mountain chain, pour into the amazon and contribute to its immense volume. it is three hundred and twelve feet deep at its mouth, and where it crosses the brazilian frontier at tabatinga it is sixty-six feet deep! the _great eastern_ steamship might navigate it for more than a thousand miles from the sea. [illustration: natives on the middle amazon.] "half a million cubic feet of water flow out of the amazon every second, or thirty million cubic feet in a minute. the ordinary current is three miles an hour. two thousand three hundred miles from the sea it is three fourths of a mile wide, at the mouth of the madeira it is three miles wide, and below santarem it is ten miles from side to side. its mouth is said to be one hundred and eighty miles wide, but this is hardly a fair statement of the case, as the island of marajo occupies a large portion of the mouth, and the river reaches the ocean through many channels. "the tide is perceptible five hundred miles from the sea; it does not carry the salt water up with it, but there is simply a rise and fall of the fresh water. so great is the volume of the amazon where it enters the sea that ships can dip up fresh water while yet out of sight of land." "in speaking of the tide," said the doctor, "don't forget to mention the _piroróco_ or 'bore' of the amazon." "i was just coming to it," replied the youth, "and cannot do better than quote a description by la condamine, written more than a hundred years ago. here it is: "'during three days before the new and full moons, the period of the highest tides, the sea, instead of occupying six hours to reach its flood, swells to its highest limits in one or two minutes. the noise of this terrible flood is heard five or six miles, and increases as it approaches. presently you see a liquid promontory, twelve or fifteen feet high, followed by another and another, and sometimes by a fourth. these watery mountains spread across the whole channel, and advance with a prodigious rapidity, rending and crushing everything in their way. immense trees are instantly uprooted by it, and sometimes whole tracts of land are swept away.'" "it must be a terrible thing for boats to encounter, especially the small ones," fred remarked, as frank concluded the above description. "it is," dr. bronson answered, "and many of them are lost every year. but those engaged in navigating the river know when to expect the bore, and take precautions against it. they have _esperas_, or resting-places, where they are sheltered from its force, and wait until it has passed. "the bore is not confined to the amazon," continued the doctor; "it is known in other rivers, especially in the hoogly, below calcutta, but the bore of the amazon is undoubtedly the largest." [illustration: in an igaripÉ.] "another curious feature of the amazon," said frank, resuming, "is the great number of lateral channels, which are technically called _igaripés_, or canoe-paths. boats may go for hundreds of miles along the lower amazon in the _igaripés_ without once entering the main stream. they remind us of the bayous of the lower part of the mississippi valley." "don't forget," said fred, "that the amazon rises within sixty miles of the pacific ocean, and touches every country of south america except chili and patagonia. the madeira rises close to the sources of the la plata, while the negro, the great northern tributary of the amazon, is connected with the orinoco by a navigable canal called the cassiquari. the navigation of this network of waters is favored by nature; the current is eastward, while the trade wind blows west from the atlantic, so that ships going either way have the stream or the wind to help them along." "and another thing," said the doctor, "that should be mentioned, is the annual rise and fall. there is a succession of freshets in the tributaries of the amazon, so that the main stream can never run low. most of its affluents are in the southern hemisphere, and consequently the river has its greatest flood when the sun is south of the equator. the rise is gradual, beginning in september or october, and increasing not more than one foot daily, and often less than that. the difference between the highest and lowest levels is about forty-five feet, and at the time of the flood vast areas of land are covered with water. once in every six years the flood is greater than usual." "the amazon is too large to be content with one name," said frank. "from its mouth to the junction with the negro it is called the amazon, or the amazons; from the negro to the peruvian frontier it is the solimoens; and the part in peru is the marañon. but these distinctions are passing away since the river was opened to universal navigation; the solimoens is now generally called the middle amazon and the marañon the upper amazon. probably another twenty years will see the old names disappear altogether." manaos is on the rio negro, ten miles above the junction of the latter stream with the amazon. frank and fred observed with interest the change from one river to the other, which was as marked as that from the mississippi to the missouri, near alton, illinois. the amazon is yellow, while the negro, as its name indicates, is black. for miles the line between the two waters is sharply defined; they hold apart from each other, as if unwilling to mingle, but the greater river at length absorbs the smaller, and henceforth, to the sea, the yellow color is retained. the youths dipped some water from the two rivers and placed it in glasses side by side. that of the amazon was like milk, as sometimes seen in boarding-houses or cheap restaurants, while the water of the negro was clear, with a tinge of red. the difference in the banks of the rivers was as marked as that of their waters, those of the amazon being low and broken, as on the mississippi. the banks of the negro gave no indication of alluvial washings, but presented many sandy beaches, backed by low hills covered with dark forests, in which few palms or similar trees were visible. the steamer anchored in front of manaos, and the little party went on shore. they found a town resembling some of the river-landings in arkansas or missouri, with the addition of tropical surroundings. it straggled along the shore and back over the undulating hills for a considerable distance, and at first glance resembled a city of no small importance. it had about four thousand inhabitants, but there is room for many times that number when all the "lots" are occupied with well-filled dwellings. on an elevation in the centre is the cathedral, which was unfinished at the time of dr. bronson's visit, and has been a work of very slow growth since its foundation. facing the river is a large open square with a few palm-trees on its borders, and near the water there are several buildings variously occupied as custom-house, hotel, and steamboat offices. a long avenue known as brazil street runs through the town, with its ends on two _igaripés_, or canals; these canals run back from the river, so that manaos is surrounded on three sides by water. the houses are by no means crowded, as in most european cities, but each has a comfortable area of ground around it, affording good ventilation and plenty of moving space. [illustration: fruit-pedlers.] manaos is destined to be the st. louis of the amazon valley, as it is the diverging and converging point for a great deal of commerce. freight up or down the amazon and its tributaries is generally transshipped here, and at some seasons of the year the river front is a scene of much activity. the population is a mixed one, and includes negroes, indians, brazilians, portuguese, italians, and half a dozen nationalities of europe, together with a few chinese and east indians, and occasionally englishmen and north americans. as the commerce of the amazon valley develops, manaos will grow in population and wealth, and the day may not be far distant when ocean steamers will receive their cargoes at its docks instead of at para. [illustration: arrival at manaos.] frank and fred wished to make some purchases, and sallied out for that purpose. they returned with the declaration that manaos was like home in one respect, according to the old song, as it was "the dearest spot on earth." hardly anything they saw was the product of the country; everything was imported, and the importers held their goods at high prices. an american whom they met said there was little agriculture in the surrounding region; beef came up the madeira; sheep, and other meat-supplying animals were imported, and so were hams and all other preserved edibles; while manufactured articles were from new york, liverpool, or other atlantic ports. [illustration: giant fig-tree.] fred asked what were the industries of manaos, and was told there were none at all. "brazilians and indians will not work," said his informant. "the immigrants from europe live by trading. since their emancipation, the negroes prefer fishing to any other mode of existence, and the americans that came here as colonists have mostly gone back disappointed. there is really no laboring class here, and until there is we can have no agriculture. the land would produce abundantly, but there is nobody to cultivate it. i doubt if there are five hundred acres of tilled land on the amazon, between this point and the foot of the andes." the exports of manaos are rubber, coffee, sarsaparilla, brazil nuts, pissaba, chinchona, fish, and turtles. the imports are cotton cloth, beads, and other "indian goods" for the natives, and various articles of necessity or luxury for the european inhabitants. the surrounding country is diversified with valleys, hills, and ravines, and not far from the place is a pretty cascade ten feet high and fifty feet wide, falling over a precipice of red sandstone. the sheet of water resembles minnehaha in its general outline, but its peculiarity is in its deep orange color, obtained from the soil through which the streams flows. the youths wished to ascend the rio negro, but circumstances did not permit the excursion. the negro rises in colombia, and is twelve hundred miles in length; at one place it is ten or twelve miles in width, and at manaos not less than two miles. during the flood of the amazon the dark waters of the negro are dammed and held back, for hundreds of miles, by the rise of the giant stream. the natural canal, the cassiquari, which connects the negro with the orinoco, is half a mile wide, and drains off the superfluous waters which go to swell the lower part of the last-named river. [illustration: natives of the banks of the ucayali.] other great tributaries of the amazon are the huallaga and the ucayali; both rise on the peruvian andes, the latter near ancient cuzco. either can be compared to the ohio, and both are navigable for long distances. like the other streams that flow into the amazon, they run through regions with few inhabitants, and consequently there is little commerce along their banks. there are many rivers as large as the hudson or the connecticut, that are unknown to geographers, and not named on the maps. glad enough were our friends to leave manaos, after a day's detention, and descend the amazon. the heat was severe, the thermometer mounting to ninety-two degrees fahrenheit, with a damp atmosphere, which made the temperature very oppressive. manaos has the reputation of being the warmest spot on the amazon; the mercury mounts very often to the nineties, and can touch ninety-eight without apparent effort. there are few amusements, and the most comfortable occupation is to do nothing. the european residents indulge in balls and parties, but more as a matter of form than for the sake of enjoyment. aided by the current, the steamer made the sixty miles between manaos and the mouth of the madeira in a trifle over four hours. the boat resembled the one on which they had descended the madeira, but was more than twice as large; the arrangement of the cabins and decks was the same, and each traveller hung his hammock between the decks, and took advantage of the cooling trade wind that blew up the river. [illustration: a brazilian landing-place.] frank's inquiring mind led him among the boxes, bales, and bags which comprised the freight of the steamer; he was accompanied by manuel, who answered the youth's questions to the best of his ability. where he did not know the correct answer he followed the custom of the country in giving the first that his imagination suggested. frank's first question related to pissaba. "pissaba comes from the pissaba palm," said the guide, "and is a fibre which is manufactured into cables and ropes, and is exported to europe and america to be made into brushes and brooms. it is stronger than hemp, and more elastic, and if the people were enterprising it could drive hemp out of the market for many uses." "please tell me about brazil nuts," was the next suggestion. "brazil nuts grow on one of the tallest trees of the forest," was the reply. "there are eighteen or twenty nuts in a hard shell like a cannon ball, and they are packed in so wonderfully that when once taken out no man is ingenious enough to put them all back again. i have seen brazil-nut trees two hundred feet high, and fourteen feet through at the base, and not a branch within a hundred feet of the ground." frank asked how the nuts were gathered. "they are allowed to ripen and fall to the ground," answered the guide, "partly because they will not keep if picked from the tree, and partly because it is difficult and dangerous to climb for them." "it must be equally dangerous to stand under the tree, and risk being hit by one of the falling nuts." "it is," was the reply. "the large shells or cases are five inches in diameter, and weigh two or three pounds; in their descent they attain a momentum resembling that of a cannon-ball, and often bury themselves out of sight in the ground. a nut falling on a man's head will certainly break the shell, and this has happened in many instances. "the nut-gatherers build their huts among the trees, or more often a little distance from them; if under the trees, they give the roof a sharp incline, so that nuts falling upon it will slide off and do no harm. the wind blows in the morning, and at that time the gatherers stay at home, employing their time in breaking open the shells of the previous day's collection, and getting the nuts ready for packing in sacks. when the wind ceases they go out and collect what have been shaken off by the breeze. "it is a hard life," continued the guide, "and many of the people die in consequence of the fatigue and exposure. they must tramp through the forest, and bring in heavy loads of nuts; they have scanty food; and the swamps and forests are full of malaria. they suffer from fevers and rheumatism, and are without medicines; they receive very low wages, and are constantly in debt to their employers; they lose their way, and starve to death; and sometimes their canoes laden with nuts are overturned, and the occupants drowned. but all these dangers combined are less than the peril from the falling nuts, and not a year passes without the death of nut-gatherers from this cause. "the trade is conducted on the credit system, very much like that of the rubber-collecting industry. the annual shipment of brazil nuts from para is about eleven million pounds; and the nut trade is the third in importance among foreign exports, rubber and cacao being the first and second." "who eats the nuts?" was the next interrogatory. "i don't exactly know," answered manuel, "but am told that more than half of the nuts sent from brazil are eaten by schoolboys in england, france, and the united states." "yes, i remember now," said frank, "but had forgotten for the moment the hard, black, triangular nuts we used to buy in our school-days. they are favorites with boys, but the taste for them seems to disappear as we grow older. now, please tell me about cacao." "cacao is cultivated in brazil and other lowland countries of south america," replied manuel, "but i can't tell you much about it. you must ask dr. bronson." at this moment the doctor happened along, and frank repeated his question. "cacao is the substance from which chocolate is made," he explained, "and it is the same as the french '_chocolat_' or '_coco_.' it is cultivated in tropical countries, twenty-five degrees each way from the equator, and sometimes the forests of cacao are miles and miles in extent. it grows to a height of twenty-five or thirty feet, and resembles a black-heart cherry-tree in size and shape. it is an evergreen, and has a smooth, oblong leaf, terminating in a sharp point. the fruit resembles a short, thick cucumber; it is from five to nine inches long, and contains from twenty to forty, or even fifty, beans which resemble the pit of an almond. from these beans the chocolate of commerce is made." "do they make it here or export the bean to other countries?" frank inquired. "the beans are separated from the pulp that surrounds them, and when dried are ready for market. sometimes they undergo a fermentation to remove certain acrid qualities, but, except for local use, no attempt is made to manufacture the chocolate here. the manufacturing is done in england, france, and other countries, by means of delicate but powerful machinery. the shells of the seeds are of a dark-brown color, quite thin and brittle; they are the cocoa-shells which are sold in american grocery-stores to be used in making 'cocoa' for our tables. "a rich oil is made from the seeds, but its manufacture is less profitable than the sale of the seeds for making chocolate or cocoa. the trees begin to bear when four years old, and the harvest season is in july and august; the industry is said to be profitable when properly managed, as the expense of maintaining a plantation is not great, and the harvest season occurs when other industries are at a standstill. the pulp that surrounds the seeds is made into a refreshing drink for immediate use, and some of the planters make from it a jelly which is said to equal the famous guava jelly. the outer shell is burned, and its ashes are the basis of a strong brown soap, like the home-made soap of new england." [illustration: the ant-eater asleep.] fred interrupted the conversation by calling attention to an ant-eater, the property of one of the passengers, which was secured in a cage containing an upright branch of a tree for its accommodation. manuel said the beast made his home in the trees, and lived on the tree-ants, which were numerous in brazil. he sleeps by day, and roams at night, and when he sleeps he gives his whole mind to it. he has strong claws and a prehensile tail; by the use of these, and by placing his head in the fork of a limb, he can slumber without any fear of falling out of bed. the fellow was taking his afternoon nap, and the youths did not disturb him. fred make a sketch of the ant-eater in repose, and pronounced him a model drawing-model, as he did not move a muscle during the time required for taking his portrait. the first stopping-place of the steamer was at serpa, thirty miles below the mouth of the madeira; it was a town of about one hundred houses, with as mixed a population as that of manaos, though not as numerous. the proportion of negroes seemed larger than at manaos, and manuel said they would find this the case in each of the river towns as they approached para. they took on board a considerable quantity of rubber, and then steamed onward. [illustration: the mouths of the amazon.] one hundred and fifty miles farther on they stopped at villa nova, the twin brother of serpa in size and general appearance. here the amazon began to contract its banks, and the current increased in strength until, at obidos, one hundred miles beyond villa nova, they found it narrowed to about a mile in width. the river is here two hundred and fifty feet deep, and its velocity, according to professor orton, is . feet per second. all the water of the amazon does not go through this passage, as there are lateral channels which carry off a considerable quantity. obidos is on a high bank of hard clay, and presents a bold front to the river. there are many cacao plantations in the vicinity; from villa nova to para these plantations are numerous, and the industry is more important than anything else. the river widened again as they moved on to santarem, which is fifty miles below obidos, and occupies a healthy position at the mouth of the rio tapajos, five hundred miles from the ocean. this river sends to market rubber, sarsaparilla, brazil nuts, farina, and copaiba, and there are several cattle estates along its banks. colonists from the southern states of north america settled here after our civil war; some of them established a prosperous business, but the greater number went away disappointed. those who remain cultivate the sugar-cane and make sugar; some are engaged in commerce, and others have gone to rearing cattle and making butter. the latter industry was formerly unknown here, all butter used in para, and elsewhere on the amazon, being imported from europe or the united states. below santarem the river increased in width so greatly that at times both banks were not visible from the steamer. several unimportant points were visited; rubber, cacao, and other products were received at the landings; and the horizon of tropical forest along the banks retained its luxuriance and monotony. there were few signs of animal life beyond an occasional hut of a rubber-maker, or a group of natives gazing idly at the steamer. after stopping a little while at breves, on the southwest corner of the island of marajo, the steamer next entered the part of the amazon known as the para river. eighteen hours after her departure from breves she dropped her anchor in the harbor of para, and ended the journey of our friends across the south american continent. [illustration: para, from the river.] chapter xx. para.--its business and characteristics.--the island of marajo.--down the coast.--pernambuco.--the sugar industry. [illustration: environs of para.] para is an important seaport, and has regular communication with europe and america by several lines of steamers. naturally, the trade of the amazon valley centres here; para is nearer to europe and north america than is rio janeiro, and therefore it possesses great commercial advantages over the capital. it has a population of little less than fifty thousand, and but for the political troubles which have fallen upon it at different times, and the laws which hamper commerce, it would have more than double that number of inhabitants. [illustration: a tropical plant.] we will read what frank and fred had to say of their visit to this _entrepot_ of the amazon. "it was a great pleasure to us to reach this place, the first real city we had seen since we left lima months ago, and thousands of miles away. here we find gas and street railways; theatres and hotels; paved streets, and markets with roofs; houses elegantly furnished, and built as though intended for something more enduring than the thatched huts of the interior; public and private carriages, though not many of the latter; well-dressed men and women; churches and schools; prosperous merchants and extensive commercial houses, together with many other attributes of a permanent city. several visitors have remarked that it was founded in the year that saw the death of shakespeare, and we will follow their example. its history dates from , when francesco caldeira laid the foundations of a fort which was intended to close the amazon river to foreigners who had begun trading with the indians. its full name is santa maria do belem do gram pará, but nobody in this busy nineteenth century thinks of stopping to pronounce it; it is called simply 'pará,' with the accent on the last syllable. "it has had several insurrections, which have retarded its prosperity and caused the death of many of its citizens. in one of these insurrections two hundred and fifty of the most prominent participants were carried on board a ship in the harbor, and confined in the hold. there was no ventilation, and the prisoners struggled and fought for air; those who came near the hatches were shot, and finally the hatches were nailed up. they remained closed until the next morning, when only four persons were found alive! it was the black hole of calcutta of the western hemisphere! "in a later revolt, thirteen war-ships that had been sent from rio janeiro were sunk by the guns of the fort, but a land force of soldiers succeeded in restoring the national authority and suppressing the insurrection. since that time the city treasury has been plundered by successive 'rings,' resembling the tweed organization in new york, and altogether para has had a hard experience. at present it is said to be in honest hands, and we hope it may always remain so. [illustration: a dealer in monkeys.] "our first walk was through the commercial quarter, where we found most of the buildings solidly constructed, and generally two stories high; they are of brick or stone, plastered on the outside, and either painted or whitewashed so that the exact nature of their material is not readily ascertained. formerly most of the merchants lived above their offices, but of late years they have established residences in other parts of the city, and the old fashion of living is generally abandoned. "we entered the first tram or street-railway car that we saw, and rode out nearly five miles along the beautiful rua de nazareth, or nazareth avenue, to marco da legua, the terminus of the line. here we found the public wells of the city, and a great crowd of negro laundresses, besides the water-carriers, with their water-hogsheads mounted on wheels. they were as noisy as they were numerous, and so loud and animated was the conversation that we looked around every moment, expecting a fight with a free use of knives. happily they confined themselves to words and gesticulations, and we have no scene of bloodshed to record. "the water-carriers are generally known as _gallegos_; the term is a contemptuous one, applied by the portuguese to the spanish emigrants from galicia, who go to the cities of portugal and embrace the occupation of carrying water. the brazilians have adopted the word, and apply it to the portuguese; a good deal of enmity is kept alive by its use, which is as offensive to an inhabitant of para as the term 'paddy' applied to an emigrant from the emerald isle, in an american city. "for the first two miles of its course the rua de nazareth is lined with pretty dwelling-houses, and every year there is an addition to the number. few avenues that we have seen are more picturesque than this. the sidewalks are shaded with tropical trees, and the air is filled with the odor of lemon and orange blossoms, together with similar floral perfumes. in our morning's ride we saw, on this avenue, and on some of the streets leading from it, not less than a dozen varieties of trees peculiar to the region of the equator, and we needed to shut our eyes only for a moment to imagine ourselves again in singapore or beneath the tropical sky of ceylon. [illustration: street in para with silk-cotton trees.] "orange and lemon trees alternated with traveller's palms and silk-cotton trees, and these again with the producers of the almond and cocoa-nut. one of the most attractive of the arboreal ornaments is the silk-cotton tree; it has a broad base, tapering rapidly towards the top, where it spreads out into a leafy tuft like that of the palm. it is an evergreen, and the changes of the seasons make no difference in its foliage. the product that gives the name to the tree is a species of cotton, as soft as silk; it can be spun and woven, and is used by the indians for wrapping the arrows of their blow-guns to prevent the escape of air when the weapon is discharged. [illustration: nazareth square, para.] "we came to the largo de nazareth, or nazareth square, which must have been named by a hibernian, as it is round, and not rectangular. it contains the church and chapel where our lady of nazareth is worshipped; on our return from the end of the railway we stopped at the square and visited the revered place. what struck us particularly was the great number of votive offerings on the walls of the church and chapel; they represent heads and limbs of the faithful who have been cured of diseases through the interposition of the patron saint of the edifice. we had seen the same sort of things in european churches, but the large number at para seems to indicate that the cures have been as numerous as they are miraculous. "the festival of our lady of nazareth occurs in october, and the event draws great numbers of people to para from all the provinces of the amazon. it lasts for two weeks, and during that time the square is crowded, especially at night, and many of the scenes that are witnessed at that period are anything but pious. there are many festivals during the course of the year, somewhat to the inconvenience of visitors, as it is the rule to close the government offices on these days, and no business of an official character can be transacted. many of the laboring classes refuse to work on saints' days, and only those who are in debt to their employers can be required to do so. "it is proper to remark here that our street-car was drawn by a mule, this animal being generally preferred to the horse. he is said to endure the heat better than the nobler beast, and certainly he has a good deal of it to endure. the average temperature of para is not far from eighty degrees, and there is very little variation. overcoats, except for rain, are of no use here, and thick clothing is at a discount. we find ourselves entirely comfortable in blue serge by day, and do not require blankets at night. "it is hottest about two o'clock in the afternoon, but the heat is always tempered by the breeze from the ocean. five days out of six there is an afternoon shower, and as the air is laden with moisture taken up from the sea the streets of para are never dry and dusty. the paved ones are not the best in the world; they are full of ruts and hollows, and any one who rides in a carriage is pretty certain to be shaken violently in every joint before reaching his journey's end. as for the unpaved streets, they are often deep with sandy mud which makes very disagreeable walking. [illustration: a para belle.] "we have voted unanimously that most of the ladies of para that we have seen are pretty, but unfortunately they are not many. the women of the upper classes are quite secluded; they rarely appear on the street except on their way to or from church, and they do not often receive company. their features are portuguese, with black hair, and a decidedly brunette tinge to their complexions. we have bought a photograph of one of the belles of para and enclose it in this letter. "but though we have seen few of the ladies of para, we have not been deprived of a sight of the people of the lower classes. the wealthy and commercial population includes portuguese and native brazilians, together with english, german, french, italians, and a few north americans from the united states. the great mass of the inhabitants are indians, negroes, chinese, and some others who cannot be readily classified. [illustration: the market at para.] "the best place to study the lower classes is at the market, which is an active place in the early hours of the day. we went there on our second morning, and our attention was at once drawn to the piles of bananas, pineapples, oranges, lemons, and all other tropical fruits you could think of, besides a great number you could not possibly name. then there were garden vegetables and tobacco, baskets of flowers, heaps of fish, cages of chickens and other fowls, and a lot of monkeys and parrots that made noise enough for a menagerie. we have a suspicion that the parrots are disposed of as chickens to the restaurants, while the monkeys are useful as a substitute for spring lamb. "the indian and negro women sat or stood in the vicinity of their stalls, and chatted freely with each other in the intervals of waiting on their customers. most of the chatting was done by the negresses; the indian women manifested a good deal of the taciturnity for which indians are famous through both north and south america. two or three priests wandered through the market, occasionally stopping to say a word to the peasant women, whose bright garments made a marked contrast to the ecclesiastical black robes. the market is held in a large building which surrounds an open square; the centre of the square is devoted to the sale of meat and fish, while the roofed portion contains the stalls where other edibles are displayed. [illustration: theatre of our lady of the peace.] "it is an easy step from the market to the theatre, and it may surprise you to know that this city of fifty thousand inhabitants has one of the finest theatres on the american continent. the interior reminds us of the scala at milan, or the san carlo at naples; it has five tiers of boxes, and each box has a little anteroom where the occupants receive and entertain their friends between the acts. and if no friends are calling, the ladies and gentlemen promenade in the corridors and through a large ball-room which fills the front of the building. everybody likes this part of the entertainment better than the performance on the stage, and in order to accommodate them the waits between the acts are very long. "the outside of the theatre has deep alcoves on three sides supported by massive pillars, affording shelter from the rain and furnishing a delightful promenade. when performances are given the square in front of the theatre is crowded with people and carriages, and the lights flashing from the interior illumine the scene with a brilliant glow. the building was erected just after the close of the war with paraguay; to commemorate that event it was named "the theatre of our lady of the peace." that the city can afford such a theatre and support it is an indication of the commercial prosperity of para. [illustration: the government palace at para.] "there are six large churches in para, and there are a post-office and a custom-house, together with the other public buildings of a first-class seaport. the government palace would do honor to any city in the world, and it has a marble staircase which is the perfection of architectural beauty. then comes the portuguese hospital, which has few superiors anywhere; dr. bronson says it is a model of neatness and order, and bears every indication that it is admirably managed. a student of skin diseases would find a good field for observation in para. the hot and damp air of the amazon causes numerous sores, and they are very difficult to heal; the hospital is full of cases of this kind, and they tax to the utmost the skill of the physicians in charge. "so much for para, and now for its environs. "para is at the edge of a swamp, and so luxuriant is the vegetation in the rear of the city that it is said to be necessary to keep a sergeant and a squad of police constantly on guard to prevent encroachments. we are seventy-five miles from the sea, and the way thither is through the great estuary, or para river, which is so wide that both banks are not visible at the same time. "para is on the southern side of this estuary; opposite is the island of marajo, one hundred and fifty miles in length, and about one hundred miles wide in its broadest part. half of it is covered with forest, and the other, the northeastern half, with an extensive _campos_ or prairie, dotted here and there with clumps of trees. the forests are the haunt of rubber collectors, as the rubber-trees are abundant; the campos is an immense grazing land, with a curious history, which is told in this wise: "the advantages of the island for raising cattle and horses were recognized by the early settlers, who founded _estancias_, or ranches, there, some of them of immense extent. at the end of the last century there were a million horses, and half as many oxen and cows, on the island; the horses were nearly or quite wild, and drove the cattle to the swamps where many of them died. about the year , the settlers complained so much about the ravages of the horses that the government gave licenses permitting enterprising men to slaughter these animals for their hides, and the work of destruction went on rapidly. in a few years hundreds of thousands of horses had been killed off; the bodies were left to rot on the ground, and bred a pestilence which destroyed most of the remaining horses and cattle. its effects still continue, and the farmers have sought the assistance of government to protect the remaining animals, and stop the ravages of the disease. [illustration: sourrÉ and salvaterra.] "we were not able to visit any of the estancias, but confined our inspection of marajo to the villages of sourré and salvaterra, on the southern side of the island, at the entrance of the igarapé grande. they are picturesquely situated on opposite banks of the igarapé, sourré being a little farther inland than its sister place with the longer name. we crossed the para river on a steamer that rolled viciously under the effect of the wind blowing in from the atlantic, and long before we reached the other shore more than half the passengers were overcome with sea-sickness and unable to move. "the accommodations were not of the best, but we were accustomed to rough life, and had no reason to complain. both these places are filled from august to january by many people from para, to whom sourré and salvaterra are as newport or long branch to new-yorkers. the tide brings in a fine flow of sea-water, and the breezes are stronger and cooler than at the capital city. there is a good beach for bathing, and when it is not occupied by the fashionables it is the scene of a great deal of activity on the part of the natives. we hired a boat and a couple of indians to paddle us two or three miles up the igarapé and back again. the banks are lined with gardens, from which many vegetables are sent to the market of para. "in the interior of the island there are farms and plantations where sugar-cane, cacao, cotton, rice, and mandioca are grown, but the greatest industry of marajo is in the exportation of cattle. the trade is said to reach about ten thousand head every year; horses are scarce, and a good riding animal brings a high price. "we returned from sourré by the way we went, and reached para one day before the steamer was due which would carry us down the coast. this letter will go to new york by the next steamer, and so for the present we will say good-bye. "frank and fred. "p. s.--our account of para would be incomplete without an allusion to snakes. in many houses they have snakes of the boa-constrictor family--of the kind we saw on the amazon--to keep the place clear of rats and mice. they do their work very well, and live on terms of quiet friendship with the biped inhabitants. at sourré we saw the household snake coiled up in a corner very much as we might see a cat in a new england dwelling; when we manifested a curiosity to look at it one of the servants took the reptile by the neck and held it up to full view until we declared ourselves satisfied with the inspection. the creature did not seem at all angry at his treatment, for as soon as he was released he returned to his corner and resumed his nap. [illustration: a snake merchant.] "we have just visited monkey joe's establishment, which is devoted to the sale of monkeys, parrots, snakes, and other amazonian live-stock. we made no purchases, in spite of the tempting offers at low prices, as we have found one monkey quite as much as we wish to carry in our travels. outside of the shop a man was standing with a barrel by his side; when we left the place he followed us a short distance and emptied his barrel on the ground. he was a snake-merchant, with a choice selection of rat-killers that he vainly urged us to buy. we left him and his wares; as he was perfectly at home among the wriggling serpents, and had no fear of them, he was unable to understand why we departed so suddenly. "f. and f." before leaving para our friends had an experience at the custom-house which was the reverse of pleasing. they had bought some curiosities they wished to send to new york; the formalities of the tariff required them to pay an export duty of seventeen per cent. on the cost of the goods at para prices, and they learned that on some articles the duties were much larger. this is particularly the case with fine cabinet woods, which are abundant in brazil, but are very little in demand for shipment to foreign countries, in consequence of the high export tariff. "foreign trade can never be prosperous in brazil," said dr. bronson, "until these export duties are removed. in addition to the custom-house tariff at para, there is a duty on goods carried from one province to another, so that all articles of brazilian manufacture or production are heavily burdened before they get out of the country. brazil may become enlightened one of these days, and adopt the practices of other nations in this respect, but for the present she ranks with turkey and other semi-barbarous countries in keeping a burden upon her home industries." frank asked about the import duties on foreign goods. "they are from five to eighty per cent. on the valuation," replied the doctor, "and a general average of the duties on importations is about forty per cent. they vary according to the caprice of the official through whose hands the articles may pass, so that one importer may pay twice as much as another on the same kind of goods. bribery is said to be practised with very little effort at concealment, and an importer may be highly favored in his business by an 'arrangement' with an officer. as long as this state of things continues there will be no great increase in business. "the brazilian plan of collecting the revenues is full of absurdities. for example, shoes pay according to the length of the sole, and ready-made clothing is taxed by its weight. the people who came here from the united states to settle in brazil were required to pay enormous duties on their wagons, farming implements, and other personal property, and in some cases the duties amounted to more than the original cost of the articles they brought. many of them had invested all their means in farming implements, and found on arrival that they could not remove their property from the custom-house until every cent of the heavy duty had been paid. this was one cause of the discouragements of the emigrants at the beginning, and has deterred others from coming." from the latest reports at hand frank ascertained that, of the import trade into the whole of brazil, england had forty-five per cent., france seventeen per cent., buenos ayres seven per cent., the united states five per cent., and portugal three and one half per cent. of all the exports from brazil the united states took forty-five per cent. and great britain nine per cent., the rest going principally to france, germany, and portugal. england and the united states each take about two thousand five hundred tons of rubber annually, france has most of the cacao, and the other products are about equally divided among the various nations, the united states having probably the largest share. brazil supplies more than half of the coffee consumed by the rest of the world; it is well known that thousands of tons of brazilian coffee are sold every year as "government java," while java coffee in its turn is sold as "best mocha." in due time the little party embarked on one of the english steamers bound to the southward; in a few hours they had passed out of the estuary of the para river and were floating on the broad atlantic. their first stopping-place was pernambuco, a distance of fifteen hundred miles, and for much of the way there they were in sight of the coast. a few towns were visible with the aid of glasses, but for the most part there were no more signs of human activity than on the banks of the amazon. [illustration: going ashore in a jaganda.] they had a day at pernambuco, which has a harbor inside of a long reef affording secure anchorage for small ships. large steamers anchor outside, and transfer their cargoes by means of lighters. a steam tender came alongside, but as the wind was fair to the shore, and there was likely to be some delay in transferring the mails and express freight, manuel negotiated for a _jaganda_, which seemed to the youths a twin brother of the _balsa_, whose acquaintance they made on the western coast. it is a raft with a sail, and the most of the jagandas have a cabin, where a passenger is sheltered from the spray. frank and fred greatly enjoyed the sail to the shore, and had the satisfaction of landing at least half an hour in advance of their companion travellers who waited for the tender. [illustration: street scene in pernambuco.] the _recife_ or reef which forms the front of pernambuco is connected with the city by an iron bridge; at its upper end it is joined to the land by a sand-spit, and the principal business of the place is centred there. as their time was limited, the youths confined their attentions to the old city and the sights of the streets of the newer portion. [illustration: pernambuco.] pernambuco stands in an enclosure of mountains that sweep in a semi-circle around a fertile plain. _recife_ is the business part; _san antonio_ is the middle district; and _boa vista_ may be called the suburb. the city has about one hundred and twenty thousand inhabitants, and is the third in commercial importance in brazil. it is the greatest sugar-market of south america, its exportation often reaching twelve hundred thousand tons in a single year. most of the sugar sent from pernambuco is of a low grade, and must be refined in the united states or england before going into the market for consumption. [illustration: pack horses laden with sugar.] frank and fred were not long in finding by observation the chief industry of the city. at every step they saw sugar; it was on the lighters going to the ships in the harbor; it was in the warehouses, where the negro porters were handling sacks filled with it; it was on the backs of pack-horses, coming from the country in great droves; it was heaped on ox-wagons, which filled the streets; in fact, it was here, there, and everywhere. the very atmosphere was redolent with sugar, and the pavements were sticky with molasses. pernambuco without sugar would be hamlet without hamlet. [illustration: ox-cart.] the streets of the business portion are narrow, and there are traces of flemish architecture in the buildings erected during the time when count moritz of nassau and his followers were domiciled in pernambuco. there are houses of many stories, such as we see in cities of holland, but rarely find in the tropics, where the effort of ascending a stairway is one of the trials of existence. farther on the streets are wide, and run in straight lines, and they have broad sidewalks, tracks for street cars, and handsome dwellings that might have come from philadelphia or baltimore. there are several public edifices that would be creditable anywhere; the market is a model of beauty and good arrangement, and the squares and gardens are handsome and spacious. time did not permit an excursion into the country nor a visit to one of the sugar plantations in the neighborhood. frank learned that within the last few years the most enterprising of the sugar-planters have gone to refining the product of their plantations by means of machinery, much to the consternation of the refiners of england and the united states. the sugar, after being boiled to crystallization, but containing a good deal of molasses, is placed in a cylinder perforated with thousands of small holes that seem to have been made with a pin. the cylinder is whirled around two thousand times a minute; the molasses is thrown off by centrifugal force and the sugar remains. then a jet of water is introduced, and afterwards a jet of steam; water and steam wash the sugar perfectly clean, and it is then dried and broken into coarse powder. the whole work with the cylinder occupies only a few minutes; the molasses that is thrown off is boiled to make brown sugar, and the second molasses which comes from it is utilized for distillation. chapter xxi. bahia and its industries.--rio janeiro.--the bay and the city.--sights of the capital.--emperor dom pedro ii. [illustration: view of bahia.] bahia was the next city visited by the youthful travellers. for two days the steamer kept near the coast of brazil, which presented a more picturesque appearance than near the mouth of the amazon. there was a background of hills filling the western horizon, and occasional headlands jutting into the sea; in several places the hills rose to the dignity of mountains, and formed an agreeable contrast to the stretches of sandy beach, backed by low forests, which extend much of the way from para to pernambuco. bahia takes its name from the bay of all saints (bahia de todos os santos), on which it stands. it is a magnificent sheet of water, thirty-seven miles long from north to south, and twenty-seven from east to west, and its depth varies from eight to forty fathoms. it has two entrances from the south, and is an admirable shelter for ships of all possible tonnage. the bay also gives its name to a province with an area of two hundred thousand square miles; the province of bahia contains some of the richest land of brazil, especially along the coast, where there are many plantations, and a liberal sprinkling of towns and villages. sugar, tobacco, rice, cotton, and coffee are the principal products; the coffee is inferior to that of rio, but the tobacco is good enough to be made into "havana" cigars and sold as such in england and the united states. [illustration: diamond-washing in brazil.] diamonds were discovered in the province of bahia in , and since that time their fame has spread through the world. the celebrated diamond "star of the south" came from the mines of brazil, and in the few years following the discovery the yield was so great as to seriously disturb the diamond market of europe, and cause a heavy decline in the prices of the gems. at present the product has greatly diminished. [illustration: "star of the south."] the steamer entered the bay and anchored in front of the city, which is beautifully situated, partly on a series of hills, and partly at their base. the old, and business, portion is near the water; its streets are narrow, and the buildings are four or five stories high, very solidly built of stone. the great business street is the praya, which runs for about four miles along the water front, and contains, among other public edifices, a church built of stone imported from europe in the ships that came out in ballast to carry away the produce of brazil. altogether there are about sixty churches in bahia, and some of them are among the finest on the south american continent. bahia was the first settlement of europeans in brazil, and a flourishing city before rio janeiro was known to the world. the bay was discovered by americus vespucius in , and the city was founded seven years later. from until it was the capital of the portuguese possessions in south america; in the last-named year the honor was transferred to rio janeiro, and the city has suffered a great deal during the various political commotions to which brazil has been subject. [illustration; porters asleep.] the population of more than one hundred and fifty thousand is as variously composed as that of para or pernambuco. the whites, blacks, and mixed races are about equally divided; among the former there are many english and german merchants, the germans predominating. the foreign commerce is chiefly with england and germany, but there is a considerable trade with the united states, in which the brazilian exports vastly exceed the importations. "we were saved the exertion of walking to the upper town," said fred, in his note-book, "as there is a steam elevator which performs the work much more cheaply than human muscle could do it. from the top of the hill, about four hundred feet above the bay, we had a magnificent view that we will never forget. "in front was the ocean, with the deep blue of the tropics, and its horizon line, which seemed rising to meet the sky. the bay was dotted with sails and row-boats; out on the ocean there was here and there a stipple of white which told of a sail, or a stream of smoke denoting the course of a steamer; on either side of our position were streets and squares of handsome houses, standing in rows and groups of palm or other trees of the equatorial regions; and in the background of the picture was a setting of everlasting hills, interspersed with bits and patches of prairie or undulating ground. we have nowhere seen a prettier spot than this, and endorse the assertion of previous visitors that bahia is one of the most picturesque cities of the south american continent. "when we landed we were pestered by pedlers who wanted to sell the famous feather-flowers of brazil, and this reminded us that bahia is the centre of the industry. after we had enjoyed the view from the upper part of the city we engaged a carriage and drove to the convent where the finest of these flowers are made. formerly the convent had a monopoly of the business, and derived a handsome revenue from the work of the nuns; but of late years there have been many rivals, and the convent trade has not been as prosperous as of yore. "you never saw anything more perfect than these imitations of natural flowers. put a cluster of them side by side with a bouquet of genuine flowers and you will have to guess 'which is which.' it would be nothing more than a guess so far as the eye is concerned, as the imitation is perfect in color, shape, size--in everything but smell. here are lilies, budding, half-opened, or in full bloom; hyacinths with their delicate purple; orange-flowers that seem just crystallized from the snow; violets shrinking in their modest hue of blue; roses, in all the colors for which the rose is famed, and in all conditions of growth and bloom; together with buds and blooms and blossoms of many and many a flower unfamiliar to our eyes. [illustration: brazilian humming-birds.] "they showed us admirable collections of humming-birds flying among leaves and flowers. the birds were the natural bodies, carefully preserved, and so poised in their positions as to present the appearance of life; the flowers and leaves were formed of the feathers of other birds, and simulated to perfection the growth of the forest. one collection embraced nearly five hundred humming-birds of all colors and combinations of colors, but we were told that it did not include all the varieties of humming-bird in south america. "we bought several dollars' worth of these flowers, and it was well that our time was limited, or we might have been tempted to spend more money than we could afford. the feather-flowers are made by the nuns in the convent; they have the natural flowers before them, or carefully drawn and tinted representations upon paper, to serve as models. practice makes perfect in this as in everything else, but i imagine that those who achieve success in the work must have a natural aptitude for the selection of colors. we were assured that all the colors of the feathers were natural, though we have our suspicions that the establishment makes use of dyes. whether our suspicions are correct or not it is certain that the birds of south america are blessed with brilliant plumage. [illustration: market scene, bahia.] "there is a fine market-house at bahia, which we visited, and another which may be called 'the open market,' on the shore of the bay. most of the frequenters of the latter market were negroes and other people of very dark complexions; there were a few planters on horseback, and from the way they remained close to their steeds when not sitting upon them we inferred that it would compromise their dignity to appear as pedestrians. many of the negroes carried burdens on their heads; those who rolled casks or moved heavy bales acted as though they would prefer to transport them in the other fashion, but a barrel is too unwieldy to be carried on the summit of the skull. [illustration: porters and cask.] "most of the heavy work of bahia is performed by negroes, as at para or pernambuco, and the effort to domesticate chinese coolies has not been successful. the planters complain that since the decree of emancipation they cannot get as much work out of the negroes as formerly. this is more than probable, as the slaves were treated with great cruelty; a brazilian slave-owner was a type of all that was barbarous, though there were doubtless many owners who treated their human property with kindness. to judge by the faces of some of the planters we have seen, i would not like to be in their power, and incur their displeasure. there is little compassion visible in the hard lines of their features. [illustration: sedan chair.] [illustration: frame of sedan.] "modern modes of travel have not abolished the sedan chair, which flourishes in bahia, rio janeiro, and other cities of brazil. it is less comfortable than the sedan chair of hong kong and canton, but preferable to the palanquin or the _dhoolie_ of india. like the chinese chair or the indian palkee, it is slung on a pole, and carried by porters; the latter are generally a couple of stalwart negroes, who make the best porters in the world, especially where the climate is as warm as that of bahia. every respectable citizen must have his sedan; the vehicle is richly decorated, according to the taste and wealth of the owner, and when it is no longer serviceable it is sold for public use. not infrequently a public sedan bears the crest of a private citizen; the decayed and faded curtains, and the general air of dilapidation pervading the concern, tell very plainly what has been its former state. some of the porters are arrayed in solemn black, including dress coats and stiff hats, and their appearance has a suggestion of the grotesque. but it is the fashion of the country, and we do not propose to interfere with it. "evening found us back on the steamer, and at sunset we passed through the southern entrance of the bay and were once more on the ocean. our prow was turned to rio, eight hundred miles away, and we steamed gayly along on our course. sometimes we kept far out to sea, to avoid dangerous reefs, on which many a ship has gone to pieces, and at others we swept close in shore, and had fine views of the land. the hills grow in size as we increase our distance from the equator, and after a time the mountains of the coast range fill the western horizon. with our glasses we can distinguish many houses and villages, and are not surprised to learn that the region is a fertile one. "the coasting steamers make half a dozen stoppages on the way from bahia to rio, but we do not halt. none of the way ports are of great consequence, but if the country behind them could be developed to its proper capacity there would be a heavy business at places now unknown to the commercial world. some of the mountain slopes may be difficult of cultivation on account of their dryness, but there is a vast area of country that only waits the work of the colonist to enable it to produce abundantly." [illustration: entrance to the harbor of rio.] four days from bahia brought the steamer in sight of "the sugar-loaf," the sharply conical peak nearly two thousand feet high which is the landmark of the magnificent bay of rio janeiro, pronounced by many visitors the finest in the world. some there are who claim pre-eminence for the bay of naples; others, but they are few in number, who have entered avatcha bay, in kamtchatka, say it surpasses the bay of rio; and others again give preference to the bay of yokohama, in japan. among our three friends there were no less than three opinions: naples, avatcha, and yokohama had each an advocate, but all agreed in giving the second honor to rio. with this honor it must remain content. [illustration: view of rio janeiro from the sea.] its general shape is that of a triangle, and it is nearly a hundred miles in circumference. there is but a single entrance, and that a narrow one, so that a ship once inside is in water as smooth as that of a lake. it is set in mountains whose sides are thickly covered with foliage, and its surface is studded with islands, nearly a hundred in all. the name of the bay, "rio de janeiro," was given under the supposition that it was not a bay, but the mouth of a large river. there is no stream of consequence entering the ocean at this point, and the "river of january" exists only in the imagination. not wholly in the imagination, however, as it belongs to the city which is the capital of brazil, and has a population of three hundred thousand; to the municipality containing the city, and having an area of five hundred and forty square miles; and to the province containing city and municipality, with an area of eighteen thousand square miles, and a population of a million and a quarter, of many races, colors, and kinds. in the bay, city, municipality, and province we have rio de janeiro four times over. perhaps in some future day the empire will cease to be known as brazil, and adopt the name of its capital. the larger islands in the bay are occupied, and cultivated wherever possible; many of them are fortified, and several are surmounted by churches or chapels. the entrance to the bay is only two thousand feet wide, and defended by forts, one at the base of the sugar loaf and the other nearly opposite. together they would make it very tropical for a hostile fleet, and just inside the entrance is another fort, which is intended to take care of anything that escapes the outer defences. as the steamer came to her anchorage she was surrounded by a swarm of boats, which kept at a respectful distance until the arrival of the health officer, without whose authority there could be no communication between ship and shore. if the doctor and the youths had been unaware of their latitude the merchandise of the boats would have told them, without the aid of the hot sun in the sky overhead. there were monkeys and parrots in great abundance; an assortment of snakes and other creeping things; bananas, pineapples, and other tropical fruits; yams, sweet potatoes, mandioca root, and other "garden truck" of the country; tobacco and cigars in all conditions of badness; and other merchandise only to be designated by native names. the boatmen kept up an incessant talk, mingled with many gesticulations, and the half-hour spent in waiting for the health officer was by no means lost. by and by that official came, the ship was pronounced "clean," and the passengers were free to land. from the anchorage the city does not present an imposing appearance, as it is only partially visible; portions of it are screened by the hills, which break its front and divide it into several quarters. in consequence of these hills it straggles over a considerable area, and is really made up of a series of suburbs; from the centre of the city to botofago is a good three miles, and it is the same distance the other way to another suburb or district of equal importance. like our washington, it is a city of magnificent distances; in order to see it all at once you must climb the hills in the rear, and look at the metropolis nestling at your feet. only till you do this can you realize its greatness. [illustration: front view of the city.] rio was evidently built with a view to permanence. at least frank and fred thought so, as they landed at the piers of solid granite, with steps leading down to the water and facilitating debarkation at every stage of the tide. near the landing-place was a market, where they found groups of negroes waiting for work, or possibly waiting to avoid having work to do. there were heaps of fruit and vegetables, similar to what they had seen in para and pernambuco, and the same chatter and commotion prevailed among the venders and their patrons. we depended upon fred for an account of the visit to bahia, and will ask frank to tell us about rio de janeiro. "from the landing-place we went first to the hotel," said frank, "under the guidance of a runner, who had met us at the steamer. we went without our baggage, which was taken directly from the ship to the custom-house. nobody is in a hurry in this country; we knew there would be a delay in bringing the trunks and bags from the steamer, and that we could utilize it by securing our quarters. we made all arrangements for our stay, and then went to the custom-house, which we reached just as manuel arrived with our impedimenta. "the officials were polite but slow. we managed to get the attention of one of them, who promised to 'expediate' our business; as he took at least an hour for accomplishing what might have been done in five or ten minutes, i shudder to think what would have been our fate without any 'expedition.' porters were ready to seize upon the parcels as they were released from the custom-house, and it was a comical spectacle that manuel presented as he marched at the front of a column of scantily-dressed negroes, each of whom bore some part of our personal effects on his head. [illustration: coffee-carriers.] "down to a few years ago nearly all the transportation of rio was conducted in this way. coffee, sugar, and other merchandise was placed on the heads of negroes, who trotted nimbly along, carrying sacks weighing one hundred and sixty pounds as though they were only a tenth of that amount. articles that were too much for one man were slung on poles, or balanced on the heads of two, four, or possibly eight or ten porters; it was no uncommon sight to see a piano or a large box poised on the heads of four or six men, and the stranger could not help thinking what might be the result if one of the number should make a misstep and fall to the ground. [illustration: coal-carriers.] "the negroes had almost a monopoly of the carrying trade, and when carts were introduced there was very nearly a riot in consequence. danger was averted by placing a limit to the number of carts, and a continuance of the old system without a reduction of prices. the business of transportation still requires a great deal of head-work on the part of the negroes, and there is no likelihood that they will be altogether superseded. we met several groups of coffee-carriers, each with a sack on his head, and near the landing-place was a line of coal-carriers with their appropriate burdens. [illustration: modern innovations.] "many of the trucks and carts are drawn by hand, and consequently the mule and the negro may be regarded as rivals in this department of labor. but there seems to be perfect friendship between them, if i may judge by a scene i witnessed of a mule and a negro lying down together, and the negro using the mule as a pillow. "the leader of a gang of coffee-carriers has a rattle in his hand, and keeps time with it for his followers. they step to the music, and aid it by a low, monotonous chant, in words quite unintelligible to our ears. sometimes the rattle gives place to a small flag, which is waved in unison with the step; the men who propel carts or trucks have no use for flags or rattles, though sometimes they stick a flag in front of the vehicle as an indication of ownership. [illustration: pedlers of dry-goods.] "all things considered, i have never seen a city where so many things were carried on the head as in rio janeiro. pedlers of dry-goods go from house to house, followed by negroes bearing boxes or bales of the finery which they offer for sale; the practice saves the ladies the trouble of going to the shops when they want to buy anything, and enables the dealers to work off a great many things that would not be easy to dispose of otherwise. before we had fairly landed at the hotel we were besieged by pedlers, and forcibly reminded of our experience at singapore, calcutta, and other cities of asia. [illustration: poultry dealer.] "fruit and poultry are borne on the heads of the market men and women, the former in open baskets and the latter in covered ones. we met a poultry dealer with a huge basket on his head, and at least a dozen chickens were craning their necks out of the spaces between the slats. he was farther weighted with a goose and a couple of turkeys swinging at his side, and i have no doubt he would have added another dozen of chickens without hesitation. [illustration: fruit vender.] "water-carriers balance casks and buckets on their heads; cooks, chambermaids, and servants of all kinds and descriptions follow the universal custom; and it would be interesting to know what mr. darwin thinks of the development of species under such circumstances. the skull of the brazilian porter a thousand years hence ought to be not less than an inch in thickness, and have a resisting power equal to that of a mortar shell. "sedan chairs abound, but they are less numerous than formerly, as a good many people now indulge in carriages who once relied upon chairs for their locomotion. they are of the same model as the chairs of bahia, and the bearers have a kindred complexion and dress. for public conveyances there are carriages, omnibuses, and street cars; the street railways of rio janeiro are patronized by everybody, and it is said that the original company has made a dividend of three hundred per cent. every year on the amount of capital invested! the concession was obtained by some new-yorkers, and the brazilians have been much chagrined at the ease with which they allowed the foreigners to take possession of such an excellent bonanza as this. "the omnibus is here called a gondola, and we have been told how the name originated. it may not be true, but you know the old italian proverb, '_si non é vero é ben trovato._' "an omnibus company had a monopoly of the business indicated by its name; the government and people were much dissatisfied with the way its business was conducted, as the vehicles were small, dirty, and insufficient in number, and the fares were very high. the government could not break its word by giving privileges to another company, and the monopolists felt secure. "but an enterprising genius suggested that a company could be licensed to run gondolas in the streets of rio, and the hint was taken at once. the gondola company placed its vehicles in operation, and, though the old company protested, the protests were of no avail. who shall say hereafter that there's nothing in a name? "while i've been writing the foregoing, fred has been looking up the history of the city, and is prepared to tell you about it. i will rest a while and let him have the floor." [illustration: view in the bay of rio de janeiro.] "rio is a younger city than bahia," wrote fred, "as it was not permanently settled until . there were two temporary settlements previous to this--in and --but they lasted only a short time, the first being abandoned in less than four months after its formation. "the first settlers were french huguenots, who prospered so well that the king of portugal ordered them driven out in ten years from the founding of the colony. the governor of bahia executed the order, and established a portuguese colony in place of the french one. "the huguenots got along very well with the natives, but the portuguese were constantly at war with them; the history of the first hundred years of the colony is full of bloodshed, not only in conflicts with the indians, but in quarrels among the settlers. assassinations were frequent, and on several occasions it seemed as though the local dissensions would bring the colonization of the country to an end. "in rio was made the viceregal capital, much to the annoyance of the inhabitants of bahia, which had hitherto held the honor. the transfer of the capital was a piece of good fortune for rio, which it has maintained without interruption. its glory was increased in , when the prince-regent of portugal arrived with the intention of making his home in brazil until the declaration of a general peace in europe. "the residence of the royal family at rio was the occasion of public rejoicing, and the people readily surrendered their houses for the accommodation of the sovereign and the retainers of his court. after the declaration of peace, and the return of the king to europe, their loyalty cooled very materially, and in came the revolution, which made brazil independent of portugal. [illustration: an imperial palace.] "in , the son of the king of portugal was declared emperor of brazil, with the title of dom pedro i. the present occupant of the throne, dom pedro ii., is the son of the first emperor of brazil, and ranks among the enlightened rulers of the nineteenth century. the country is indebted to him for much of its material progress; it is no fault of the emperor that brazil is not yet in a foremost position among the nations of the globe. [illustration: statue of pedro i.] "we had a glimpse of the emperor to-day, as he drove rapidly along the principal street of the city, about four o'clock in the afternoon. he was born in , and is therefore well along in years, as you can see by his full beard, which is of almost snowy whiteness. he has a keen, sharp, commanding eye, and an expression that proclaims him 'every inch a king.' we had a glance only, and then he was out of our sight, but we cannot soon forget the impression it left behind. he was in civilian dress, and if we had looked for his crown and sceptre we should have looked in vain. he is said to maintain comparatively little of the pomp and vanity of an imperial court, and would like to banish them altogether, if it were possible and judicious to do so. "he is probably the most industrious imperial ruler in the world, as he devotes from twelve to fifteen hours daily to official work in one form or another. he examines state papers, sits with the officers of his cabinet, listens to reports and suggestions, visits schools, hospitals, and other public institutions, is present at ceremonials, entertains strangers, and can talk well on almost any topic of the day. he has a taste for music, science, and geography, and can discuss the last new opera, the researches of darwin, or the explorations of stanley, with intelligence and discrimination. "you may remember his visit to the united states at the time of our centennial; how rapidly he moved from place to place, and with what interest he went on sight-seeing expeditions. the officers of his staff who accompanied him were exhausted by their exertions, while the emperor was always fresh, and ready for something new. he avoided public demonstrations wherever he could do so without giving offence, and devoted his limited stay of four months to an inspection of the country, and a study of its institutions. from america he went to europe for a longer tour. his return to rio was the occasion of great rejoicing, and the demonstrations were as sincere as they were elaborate." [illustration: scene in a brazilian suburb.] chapter xxii. the sights of rio.--public buildings, aqueduct, churches, miracles, and funerals.--visit to tijuca and petropolis.--the serra. the party remained several days in rio, and had abundant occupation for eyes and ears. one of the days was devoted to a religious festival; there were processions on the streets and services in the churches, and the whole population seemed to give itself to idleness in honor of the saint to whom that date of the almanac belonged. rio janeiro is a catholic city, but less intense in its religious feeling than bahia. many adherents of the catholic church regard bahia as an american rome, from which all religious dogmas and teachings affecting the continent are expected to proceed. rio is well provided with churches, and some of them are admirable specimens of ecclesiastical architecture. the youths visited the cathedral and perhaps half a dozen of the principal churches, but did not take the trouble to go through the entire list. the churches of rio are never closed; at almost any hour service is going on in one of the chapels of the cathedral, and the stranger who desires to see the people at worship has no lack of opportunity. votive offerings are as numerous in the churches of rio as at para, if we may judge by the accounts of the youths. frank made a sketch of one collection of these offerings, while fred recorded the inscriptions relating to them. [illustration: votive offerings in a church at rio.] the sketch included busts, arms, legs, hands, and faces, moulded in wax or carved in wood, perhaps twenty in all. there was a representation of a large tumor on the neck of one of the faithful, who was cured by the interposition of the saint, and below it was a painting of a ship being driven on the rocks at the base of a steep cliff. the ship and crew seemed doomed to certain destruction, but though the ship was lost all the crew escaped, in consequence of an appeal to the patron saint. another painting showed the saint appearing in the form of an angel, to an invalid sitting in an arm-chair; the inscription says he had not been able to walk for years, but by following the direction he received he was a well man on the following day. another picture represented a similar visit to a man lying on a sick-bed, and the legend below it records a similar miraculous result. [illustration: view in the bay.] the abundance of these votive offerings shows the trusting faith of the pious brazilians, and their conscientious belief in saintly power. the religion of the country is catholic; the emperor is a devout worshipper, and a careful observer of the feasts and fasts ordained by the church, but he is a firm believer in the fullest toleration of all religions, and sternly represses any demonstrations of bigotry. there are protestant churches in most of the cities of brazil. the united states board of foreign missions has an establishment in the empire, which receives a small allowance from the brazilian government; the ministers of the german and swiss colonies of emigrants are paid by the imperial government; and, altogether, the adherents of other religions than that of the state run no risk of persecution "for opinion's sake." the constitution says that religionists other than catholics shall restrict their worship to buildings "without the exterior form of temples." for religious purposes the empire is divided into twelve dioceses, comprising one metropolitan province, under the archbishop at bahia. the diocese of bahia is presided over by the archbishop, and each of the other eleven is under the control of a bishop. the empire is further divided into twelve hundred and ninety-nine parishes; the vicars are mostly foreigners, and among these foreign vicars the portuguese predominate. [illustration: alms-box.] some of the votive offerings and relics are very old, bearing dates of two or three centuries ago. in one church our friends were shown an alms-box which was anciently used for collecting donations for "our lady of the good voyage." it was suspended by a strap from the neck of the collector, who went among the sailors on the arrival of ships from any part of the world, and especially from portugal, in the days of the viceroyalty. the honesty of the collector was insured by a lock, which is a curious, three-cornered affair closing with a key. key and lock are now heavily rusted from long disuse. the front of the box has a picture of our lady standing on the deck of a ship; the halo around the head of the figure indicates its saintly character. the fronts of the altars were adorned with candles, many of them set in candlesticks of solid silver, of great original cost. they were the gifts of wealthy worshippers in times gone by. one of the attendants sighingly remarked to fred that people didn't give such magnificent candlesticks to the church nowadays. even the candles seemed to be yellow with age, and from the dust collected on them it was evident they were not often renewed. [illustration: religious festival in front of a church.] it was formerly the custom to offer the sails of a ship, or some one of them, as a votive tribute to our lady of the good voyage, or to some other saint, for protection in time of peril. the following story is given by mr. ewbank in "life in brazil." "a lady told me that some years ago she came from rio grande in one of her father's vessels. the passage was pleasant till within a day's sail of the sugar-loaf. a small cloud then rose rapidly from the horizon, darkness settled over them, the sea began to swell, and other indications of a storm so alarmed the captain that he called the men aft, and asked them to join him in offering the mainsail to st. francis de paula, on condition of his carrying them safe in. the lady remembers them standing around the commander, and with loud voices calling on the saint, reminding him of what they had promised, each man confirming the gift so far as his proportion of the cost went. [illustration: monk in a procession.] "on arriving safe in port they paid for a mass, and a few days afterwards went to the saint's quarters in procession, barefoot, bearing the sail through the streets, with the captain at their head. the offering was deposited in front of the church. a fair value was put upon it in presence of the priest; the captain laid down the money, and was handed a receipt stating the amount which the pious commander, antonia martinez bezerra, had paid into the treasury of the saint--the value of his mainsail--in fulfilment of a vow made at the approach of a storm (naming the day), as an acknowledgment of the saint's miraculous interposition in behalf of himself, his ship, and his crew." the same writer says that auctions of ships' sails which have been vowed to the saints for interposition are not yet obsolete. the captains always buy them in, and frequently the priests have some one to run them up to prevent their going too cheaply. our friends visited one of the hospitals, accompanied by a doctor to whom they had been introduced. dr. bronson was greatly pleased with the appearance of the place, and commended the excellence of its arrangements, its perfect cleanliness, and the evidence of careful training on the part of the physicians and nurses. their escort told them that the cases most often under treatment in rio were diseases of the respiratory organs, caused by the dampness of the climate and the prevailing heat. the mean annual temperature is ° fahrenheit, and the annual rainfall averages about forty-six inches. there is hardly a year without yellow fever; it is not usually fatal, but in some seasons there is great mortality from it. people from europe and the northern cities of the united states suffer greatly from the heat for months after their arrival, and many of them flee to the mountains at the first opportunity. from the hospital they drove to the paseo publico, a pretty garden within the city limits, and much resorted to as a promenade. there are gravelled walks shaded by tall palms and other tropical trees, and on the water front is a marble pavement, which is crowded on pleasant evenings by groups of well-dressed people, listening to the music, and indulging in conversation, which is never boisterous. hospitals, asylums, theatres, colleges, academies, schools, and similar institutions appropriate to a great city are not lacking in rio, and their abundance and good management speak well for the administration of the government. beyond the botofago suburb is the botanic garden, which no visitor should neglect; it contains an avenue of palms not surpassed in any similar garden in the world, and there are other stately trees which tell of the tropical situation. the place is on the plan of the experimental gardens of the english colonies, or the _jardins d'essai_ of the french, and forcibly reminded our young friends of what they had seen in ceylon, singapore, algiers, and other places or countries on the other side of the world. most of the trees and plants of the continent of south america are cultivated in the botanic garden, and there are rare exotics from all parts of the globe. frank espied a grove of cinnamon and clove trees at the same moment that fred called his attention to a collection of tea-plants from china and japan; dr. bronson pointed out a bread-fruit tree side by side with cacao and camphor trees, while not far off were maples and pines that seemed like old friends from the home of their boyhood. many trees from tropical asia have found a home in brazil through the instrumentality of the botanic garden, which has demonstrated their fitness for the climate of south america. [illustration: the aqueduct.] water is brought to the city through an aqueduct which was built a hundred years ago, and is in good condition; some of the best modern houses are supplied through pipes from the aqueduct, but the greater part of the inhabitants rely upon the water-carriers, who are similar to their fellow-craftsmen whom we have already seen at para. in the early morning the streets abound with these men, and with numerous house-servants, bearing buckets or small casks of water on their heads. the fountains are the great meeting-places for gossipers, as similar places have been since the days when the new testament was written, and sometimes the scenes at the fountains of rio are animated to a degree bordering on commotion. of course, the aqueduct is one of the sights of the city, and the drive along the road leading past it was greatly enjoyed by the youths. [illustration: a brazilian forest, with characteristic mammalia.] the aqueduct is twelve miles long, and at one place it crosses a valley seven hundred and forty feet wide and ninety feet deep, on double arches. it is insufficient for the wants of the city, and a new one is likely to be completed before long. people die in rio as well as in other cities, and the cemetery is one of the institutions of the place. the old cemeteries of rio adjoin the churches; since no interments have been allowed in them, and new cemeteries have been established in the suburbs. the foreign cemetery is at gamboa, on the shore of the bay. [illustration: coffin closed.] "we went to one of the cemeteries," said frank, "and happened to arrive at the entrance chapel just as a funeral was going on. the coffin was so shallow that the body lying within it was distinctly visible above the sides as it stood on a stand resembling a sarcophagus; the lid is shaped like the roof of a house, and is made of two sloping boards meeting and forming a ridge. the catholic service for the dead was performed, and then a procession of priests and mourners formed, and the coffin was borne from the chapel to the cemetery. [illustration: coffin opened.] "this was an enclosure with four thick walls, in which there were niches for the coffins, in the same manner as in a receiving tomb at greenwood or mount auburn. the coffin was placed on a stand near one of the niches, the cover was opened, a handkerchief was spread over the face of the corpse, and one of the priests sprinkled the body with holy water, and threw a scoopful of quicklime upon it. [illustration: cemetery of the paula church.] "the other priests and the friends of the deceased followed his example one by one, the sprinkler and scoop being passed to them by a sacristan. the lime was thus heaped on until there was at least a bushel of it, completely concealing the body; the coffin was slid into its niche; the door was closed and locked, the key was delivered to one of the friends of the deceased, and then the attendants proceeded to close the space in front of the door with brick and plaster. orations were pronounced by those who chose to speak, and the ceremonies were over. "we were told that the bodies do not decay, in the ordinary acceptation of the word. the flesh is consumed by the quicklime; at the end of two years the niche is opened, the bones are removed and placed in a funeral vase, and the niche is then ready for another tenant. no names are placed above the niches, but each one is numbered, and a reference to the register of the cemetery will show by whom and for how long a particular place is occupied. fees are exacted for the funeral services and the rent of the niches; in fact, there is hardly anything in life or death in brazil in which the church does not have a place. christenings, baptisms, marriages, death, and burials are all within its supervision." [illustration: view of rio from boa vista.] rio de janeiro has beautiful surroundings, and there is no prettier spot among them than tijuca, a favorite resort of the residents who seek to escape the heat of the city. other retreats are petropolis, boa vista, constantia, nova friborga, and teresopolis, all of them at elevations of from one to three thousand feet above the water front of the city. boa vista offers a fine view of rio as it nestles on the shore of the bay; all these resorts are reached by carriage-roads, and some by railway, and in whatever way the journey is made it is sure to be enjoyed. it was decided to visit tijuca first of all, and for this purpose a carriage was engaged for a drive of less than two hours, over a magnificent road. they started late in the afternoon, panting with the heat, but within an hour each of the party had donned his overcoat, and found its warmth acceptable. frank thought he could perceive a fall of the temperature with every foot of the ascent, and regretted that he had not held a thermometer in his hand during the journey. tijuca beautifully is situated among the hills and in the midst of dense forests and groves. there is a waterfall which has a local reputation, something like that of niagara; it possesses quiet beauty rather than grandeur, and is in a charming retreat where the thickness of the foliage keeps out the rays of the tropical sun. there are several similar cascades in the neighborhood, and the sound of the water pouring among the rocks is very gratifying to the ear of one just escaped from the heat of the city. [illustration: hotel at tijuca, near rio.] foreign residents of rio have their summer residences at tijuca, boa vista, and other places within easy reach of the capital, and a liberal expenditure has been made by them in the construction of houses and in laying out gardens and lawns. there are several hotels at tijuca, and the stranger can be reasonably sure of satisfactory quarters during his stay. dr. bronson and his young companions were highly pleased with what they found there, and wrote a line of commendation in the register of the hotel. frank had wearied of carrying a monkey as part of his baggage, but was so much attached to his purchase on the madeira that he was unwilling to part with it except to some one who would treat it well. with some trouble to the youth, and more to manuel, gypsy had been tenderly cared for during all their travels, from the day of her purchase until they reached tijuca, where the tiny animal found a genuine admirer. the daughter of the landlord was mourning the loss of a pet which she declared was "the very image" of gypsy. frank was touched by her grief, and with the permission of the proprietor of the establishment the ownership of gypsy was transferred to the child. frank rejoiced that his pet had found a good home; the girl was delighted with the possession of the duplicate of the animal she mourned; the father was pleased at the daughter's joy; and it is to be presumed that the monkey was contented to give up travelling, and settle down amid the pure air and charming scenery of tijuca. but our record closes without a distinct avowal from gypsy of the sentiments that swelled her simian breast. frank and fred were up early in the morning after their arrival at tijuca, and ready for a horseback excursion to the top of a neighboring mountain. dr. bronson concluded to remain at the hotel, and satisfy himself with a promenade among the trees, and so the youths departed without him. [illustration: cascade at tijuca.] they had an exhilarating ride, and came back about ten o'clock full of enthusiasm concerning it. there is a carriage-road nearly to the top of the mountain, and a bridle-path the rest of the way, so that they had no occasion to leave their saddles. at every step they had beautiful views of mountain and valley, thick forest and open lawn, and there were frequent glimpses of the bay and the distant ocean. from the top of the mountain the view embraces a considerable extent of country, backed by the higher mountains of the serra, which fills the horizon to the west. [illustration: the armadillo.] breakfast was served soon after their return, and they sat down to the meal with good appetites. after breakfast they busied themselves with letters and journals, and with the contemplation of a happy family of monkeys and other brazilian animals in a large cage in the court-yard of the hotel. one occupant of the cage was an armadillo; as nature had not adapted him for climbing, he wisely remained on the floor and allowed the monkeys a monopoly of acrobatic feats. the upper half of him was protected with scales like plates of mail, and when alarmed he closed himself together till he resembled a cocoa-nut. at such times there was little else than the mail-plates presented to outside view, and he could be tossed around with impunity, at least to the tosser. the monkeys had a way of rolling him from side to side of the cage, and occasionally they carried him to the top and let him fall. this application of the laws of gravitation did not affect his gravity, and when they wearied of the performance he opened out his iron-clad coating and looked as serene as ever. frank wished to know the uses of the armadillo; manuel told him it was an excellent article of food, and was liked by both native and foreign residents of brazil. the youth was sceptical until he had the opportunity of tasting the new diet, whereupon he declared that he would be a friend of the armadillo as long as he remained in south america. from tijuca they went to petropolis, a summer resort higher in the mountains and more distant from the sea than is the former place. they took the carriage-route by the union and industry road, a magnificent highway, which was built by private enterprise, and is a model of engineering skill. it penetrates the coffee district back of rio, and until the railway was built from the capital to and beyond the mountains of the serra it had almost a monopoly of transportation. it still has a large business, and the company which controls it runs a line of stages and freight wagons, in addition to collecting tolls on every private wagon and every pack animal that passes over it. [illustration: road over the serra, near petropolis.] the scenery along the road, where it crosses the serra, elicited the warmest expressions of admiration from the doctor and his young companions. frank said it was a combination of the corniche road from nice to genoa and the mountain journey from colombo to kandy, in ceylon. fred was reminded of the passage of the alleghenies in pennsylvania, and the simplon in the alps, though he missed the snow-clad peaks of the latter, and the pines and other northern trees of the former. they unanimously agreed that the engineers who made the road understood their work thoroughly, and had constructed a route which would endure through everything except the demolition of the mountains by an earthquake, or the outbreak of a volcano beneath them. they were caught in a storm while ascending the serra; one is generally caught in a storm in some part of the day in the mountains near rio. the rain falls in such quantities as to drive the wayfarer to the nearest shelter, and if he is not quick to reach it he is drenched to the skin. rain falls every afternoon at tijuca, and so certainly may it be expected that the sojourners so time their excursions that they may be indoors when the showers come. the moisture from the ocean is driven against the mountains, where it is condensed into rain, and by this daily rain the streams around tijuca have an unfailing source of supply. the morning is clear and comfortable; from ten or eleven in the forenoon until three hours after the meridian it is too warm to stir about; and at three o'clock the clouds gather, and the rain falls an hour or so later. at sunset the clouds roll away, and the night sees the canopy of the heavens glistening with stars. the storm on the serra had the peculiarity of rolling below their route and leaving them travelling above the clouds. it began at the summit of the mountain and then descended; it wrapped them in its misty folds; lightning played about them; they met wagons and pack-mules looming suddenly out of the fog as though literally dropping from the clouds; then the mist became less and less dense; and at length they emerged from it into the open sky, and looked upon the storm sweeping over the valley below. from the alto do serra, the highest point of the road, they had a view of immense extent. the mountains rose above and around them; the valley, visible through occasional breaks in the clouds, was a picture of serene loveliness, disturbed only by the lightnings and the rain that fell copiously. far off was the bay of rio de janeiro, dotted with its many islands, dominated by the mountains that encircle it, and lighted by the afternoon sun. [illustration: the palace at petropolis.] petropolis lies in a beautiful valley among the mountains; it was founded by dom pedro i., who built a palace there and established a colony of swiss and germans, which were imported from europe at considerable cost to the government. the plan was continued by his son and successor, and of late years the place has become a fashionable resort of no small importance. it has fifteen thousand inhabitants, and many of the wealthy residents of rio have their summer homes in petropolis; the imperial palace is an extensive building with beautiful grounds, and the situation is certainly an attractive one. the german settlers brought the names of their fatherland when they came here to live, and also retained many of their home customs. some of them have become wealthy coffee-planters, and a good deal of business passes through their hands. many of the hotels are kept by swiss or germans, and not infrequently the buildings are perfect copies of the chalets we have seen in the alps, or among the lowlands of switzerland. petropolis has several lutheran and other churches, and the government makes an annual appropriation for schools, in which the children of the colonists are educated. there are several hotels, and the stranger can pleasantly pass a few days in this attractive spot. [illustration: religious procession in brazil.] chapter xxiii. railways in brazil.--coffee plantations.--mandioca and its culture.--terrible famines.--slavery and emancipation. there are several railways running out of rio de janeiro, of which the longest and probably the most important is the dom pedro segundo, so named in honor of the emperor. the first section of the line was opened in ; it was started by a private company, with a government guarantee of seven per cent. interest, but the capital was speedily absorbed, owing to the enormous extent of the outlay beyond the estimates. instances of this last have happened in other countries than brazil, and will probably continue to happen until railways are superseded by other modes of travel and transportation. the first hundred miles took all the capital of the company, and then more money was needed. in the government bought out the stockholders, and since then the railway has been run as an imperial concern, like many of the railways on the continent of europe. the present length of the railway is about four hundred miles. the main line is extended every year or two, and branches are built whenever their value as feeders can be demonstrated. the road has been of great benefit to the coffee planters in the region it penetrates; in fact, the line was built for the transportation of coffee, and the people or goods dependent upon it. nearly every passenger is in some way connected with the coffee interest, and nineteen twentieths of the freight has some relation to it. take away the coffee business and the road would require government aid to pay the cost of the fuel for its locomotives. at present it returns to the government about five per cent. upon the capital invested in the line, without counting the indirect benefits of the development of the country's industries. the other railways of brazil are less profitable than the pedro ii., and some of them would be given up altogether were it not for the aid received from the government. freight and passenger tariffs are very high, and the limited amount of business renders it impossible to fix low rates. the passenger fares are from four to five cents a mile, first class, and about half these figures for second class, while excursion tickets, limited in time, and not transferable, are sold at twenty-five per cent. discount from the double tariff. every pound of baggage beyond that carried in the traveller's hand is charged extra, and a fair-sized trunk costs as much as a passenger's ticket. live-stock may be said to "ride their heads off" if carried by railway in brazil, and for this reason horses, oxen, cows, and goats are rarely shipped by the trains. [illustration: negro hut near the railway.] the freight on a sack of coffee ( pounds) is about one cent a mile; coffee coming from the end of the dom pedro railway must pay four dollars a sack, which is about one third of its value, when delivered in rio. from rio to new york the freight rarely exceeds sixty cents a sack, and is often no more than twenty-five. fifty miles of railway transportation in brazil costs more than five thousand two hundred miles on the ocean. a few of the planters send their coffee to market by mule trains, and say it is cheaper than by railway, and there have been several schemes proposed for organizing a system of mule transportation on a large scale, in the hope of making a material saving of money. of course, the government would not favor such an enterprise; and as it could not be extensively conducted without imperial sanction, the experiment is not likely to be tried. our travelling trio made a journey over the great railway line, and had an interesting ride. the engineering was found worthy of the praise that has been given by others; the passage of the mountains near rio presented many obstacles which were successfully met by the english and american builders of the road. the line was begun by englishmen, but since the first section was opened the work has been in charge of engineers from the united states. frank and fred were disappointed in the amount of business over the road, as they had been told it drained a large district which produced coffee in abundance. the doctor came to their relief with the following explanation: "you must bear in mind," said he, "that there is a vast difference in the producing power of land, according to what is raised upon it. you cannot raise more than five hundred pounds of coffee from an acre of ground under the best conditions, while you can get five or ten times that weight in corn or wheat, especially the former. one gentleman who has studied the subject (mr. herbert h. smith) says, the coffee district drained by the dom pedro railway and another line near it does not give one thirtieth as much freight as would come from the same area of ground in the western states of north america. the large plantations are very widely scattered, and their products do not afford sufficient business for the railways; much of the land held by the planters is uncultivated, and, besides, their laborers are mostly slaves, or people who have very few wants beyond what the country around them will meet. [illustration: entrance to a coffee plantation.] "a coffee plantation requires nothing but the machinery for tilling the land and preparing the coffee for market, the furniture, and some provisions for the house of the owner, and possibly a few bales of cloth for the garments of the slaves. the food of the negroes is grown on the place, their houses are built of bamboos, also grown there, and they raise enough mandioca and corn for their food. those who have looked carefully into this matter say that long lines of railway in brazil could not pay their running expenses if they were built for nothing. there have been several schemes for extending railways into the matto grosso province; at the present rate of freight it would cost eight dollars to bring a sack of coffee to rio, which would be two-thirds of its value. the product of the land would not pay the cost of exporting it to a market." "but why don't they raise corn or wheat instead of coffee?" one of the youths asked. "they have talked of doing so," the doctor answered, "and some parts of the interior provinces are well adapted to the culture of our american staples. but they have not the right kind of a population for such work, and even if they had it, the cost of bringing grain or flour to rio would be greater at the present railway tariffs than transporting it from the united states. i am told it has been carefully figured out that wheat from wisconsin or minnesota could be laid down in rio cheaper than wheat from the end of the dom pedro railway. "while we are on the subject of railways," the doctor continued, "you may be interested in knowing that brazil owes some of her railway lines to a calamity." "to a calamity! how can that be?" "in the past hundred years," dr. bronson explained, "there have been several famines in some of the interior and coast districts, particularly in the ceara. one of the worst began in ; it lasted three or four years, and when it ended the province of the ceara was nearly depopulated. another followed in - , and another in - , the latter being less severe than its predecessor. [illustration: victims of the famine.] "the next, and thus far the most terrible, _secca_ or famine was in - . there was an excess of rain in and which caused great losses in consequence of the floods. lands could not be tilled, as they were buried in water, and many cattle on the estates were drowned. "the excess of rain was followed by a drought that dried up the streams and withered the grass and trees. the seed placed in the ground did not sprout, as there was no moisture to give it life, and month after month passed without rain. all this time the tropical sun poured its heat over the land, and you can easily imagine how it could change the rich forest into a desert of withered and blasted trunks, and the open country to a desert. "the people left the plantations and flocked to the villages, many of them dying of hunger on the way. thousands perished at their homes; they remained there hoping for rain until too weak and famished to move. as long as the cattle lasted there was no hunger; the herdsmen killed the animals for their hides, and meat was abundant for all who would come and take it. of course this could not last long, and when the herds were killed the people began to perish of starvation. [illustration: dying for lack of food.] "in a little while all the produce of the country was gone, and an appeal came to the government for aid. there was little law and order in the midst of the famine, and many people were killed in the struggle for existence; thieves were numerous, and desperate men wandered about taking food wherever they could find it; when they met the trains of provisions going to the relief of the famished district they exercised the right of might, and even killed the horses and mules that were laden with food. "when the horrors of the famine became known in the cities of brazil an appropriation was voted by the government for the relief of the sufferers. fairs were held, subscriptions raised, and a large amount of money was obtained, which went for supplying food to the survivors. the government sent engineers to lay out lines of railway and employ the people; in this way they obtained relief, and the country was provided with iron roads that will develop the country and be of practical use in transporting provisions in case of another drought. "that was the way the calamity helped the building of railways," said the doctor, "just as famines have led to similar public works in india and other countries. in the beginning of the distress the government and the public contributions supplied food to the people free of charge; the result was that they soon looked upon it as their right, and refused work when it was offered. when the government began operations on the railways it was ordered that no one who declined to work should receive either money or rations, and in this way the indolent were compelled to do something." frank asked what was the mortality in consequence of this famine? "according to the figures at my command," said the doctor, "there were in about nine hundred thousand inhabitants in ceara. in and five hundred thousand people died, or more than half the whole population!" "did they all die of famine?" "not all; but the greater part of the mortality was the result of the famine. fifty thousand died of starvation and disease in , and about two hundred thousand in the first four months of . then small-pox, fevers, and other diseases appeared, and numbered their victims by many thousands, in addition to those who perished directly for want of food in the remaining months of the second year. many persons moved away to other provinces and will not return to ceara; the periodic occurrence of droughts will make life there very uncertain, and the probabilities are that it will never be prosperous. "but enough of this sad subject," said the doctor, with a sigh; "let us talk of something else." his suggestion was adopted, and fred called attention to a patch of mandioca near the station where the train was coming to a halt. [illustration: a tropical railway station.] "that is one of the staples of brazil," said dr. bronson, "and it figures in her exports in the shape of tapioca. mandioca is as necessary to the native of brazil as the potato to the irishman, or beef to the englishman; mandioca flour, in this country, fills the place occupied by wheat flour or corn meal among ourselves." they had repeatedly seen mandioca growing in patches near the villages, and in their journey down the madeira and amazon they had found it an excellent article of food. ascertaining that the train would be nearly half an hour at the station, they strolled over to the little garden and learned how mandioca is cultivated. [illustration: mandioca plant.] "the plant has several names," said the doctor, as they were walking to the garden; "the one most generally used is mandioca, but it is also called manioc, mandioc, yucca, and cassava, while its scientific appellation is _jatropha manihot_. it is a native of south america, but has been introduced into africa and other tropical countries, where it is extensively cultivated. there are two kinds of the plant; one is called the sweet cassava or sweet yucca, and its roots are eaten raw, but are more commonly roasted or boiled, and they are as nutritions as their south american brother, the potato. the other, which produces the tapioca of commerce and the mandioca flour of south america, contains a poison so deadly that thirty-five drops of it were sufficient to kill in six minutes a negro convicted of murder." "and this poisonous plant is used as an article of food?" fred asked, in astonishment. "yes. the juice contains hydrocyanic acid; but it is removed by pressure and by the action of heat, so that the dried flour is perfectly harmless. it is still a mystery how the unlettered indians learned the virtues of the plant, which was in universal use when the spaniards and portuguese first came here. [illustration: plantation negro.] "the indians have a pretty fable concerning the origin of mandioca," the doctor continued. "they say that long ago, in one of their tribes, a child was born which walked and talked precociously. it was named mani, and died when it was only a year old. it was buried in the house where it died, according to the custom of the tribe; the roof of the building was removed, and the grave was watered daily. an unknown plant sprung from the grave; and when it ripened the earth cracked open and revealed the root. the indians ate this root, and thus learned the uses of mandioca. believing it to be the body of mani, they gave it the name _mani-oca_, the house of mani." "a very pretty story, indeed," said frank. "i will make a sketch of the plant in remembrance of it." by this time they had reached the garden, and frank busied himself with his pencil, while fred made note of the appearance of the bush, which was about five feet high, and had long, pointed leaves at the extremity of the branches. one of the plants was dug from the ground in their presence; the roots were in a cluster, and resembled large turnips, and the aggregate weight of the half-dozen roots that were taken out was from twenty-five to thirty pounds. in a shed close by a native was preparing the substance for use; the process may be thus described: the roots are washed, and then scraped, with a shell or knife, into a fine pulp. this pulp is placed in a loosely-woven bag of palm-fibre, which is suspended from a pole; a weight at the lower end of the bag brings a pressure upon the pulp, by which the juice is forced out. while the substance is still damp it is spread on metal plates, and dried over a fire; and great care must be taken to drive off every drop of the poisonous juice. during the drying it is stirred and broken into coarse grains, and this forms the _farina_, or meal of mandioca. the poisonous juice is placed in a vat, where it deposits a fine sediment after standing a few hours. this sediment is the tapioca which is extensively used in europe and america for the manufacture of puddings and other articles of food. arrow-root is another form of the same substance. the whistle recalled them, and they returned to the train. from tapioca the conversation turned to slavery; a very natural turn, as a good deal of the tapioca which comes from brazil is grown by slave labor. "slavery is in process of extinction here," said the doctor, "as a system of gradual emancipation was adopted in . there will be nothing left of the institution after the year . many slaves have been freed already, and it is thought that the northern provinces of brazil will anticipate the enforcement of the law, and give freedom to everybody before that date. most of the slaves are on the plantations in the southern part of the empire; some of the coffee-carriers in rio are still held in bondage, and pay their masters a certain amount daily for their time. all they earn beyond that they retain for themselves." "how does the system of gradual emancipation affect the slaves at the present time?" one of the youths inquired. [illustration: punishment.] "it affects them unfavorably," was the reply, "as you can readily see. if a man has a lifelong interest in his slaves, he is apt to treat them well out of regard to his own pocket, by making them useful as long as he can. but if they are to be free in a given number of years, he is tempted to get as much work from them as possible during that time, and leave them broken down and quite worn out at the end. sell a yoke of oxen to a man, and he will work them much less than if he had hired them for a year, and was not bound to return them in good condition, would he not? this is exactly the position of the slaveholder in brazil; there are many humane masters who treat their slaves well, but, unhappily, they are in the minority. these people have been accustomed to regard the negroes as their property, and they use them as they would property of any other kind. whether the slaves will be well or harshly used depends very much upon the temperaments of their owners. [illustration: in the fields.] "on a coffee or sugar plantation the slaves are required to work about seventeen hours out of the twenty-four. some masters are satisfied with fifteen or sixteen hours, and others exact eighteen hours at least. here is the ordinary routine: [illustration: slaves with collars.] "the slaves are called to work at four o'clock in the morning; coffee is given to them at six, and their breakfast at nine in the forenoon. the breakfast consists of dried beef cooked with mandioca-meal and beans, together with corn-bread; and it is eaten in the field, in an intermission of not more than fifteen minutes. at noon they have a small drink of rum, and at four in the afternoon they have a dinner which is exactly like the breakfast, and eaten in the same way and time. at seven o'clock they leave their field-work, and go to the mill or the household until nine o'clock, when they are locked in their quarters, and can sleep until roused for the next day's toil." "but do they have no holidays?" [illustration: slave with mask.] "yes, they have a holiday on sunday, but it simply amounts to a cessation of labor for three or four hours; in busy seasons the sunday's rest is reduced to one or two hours, and with many masters to nothing at all. they have no allowance of christmas holidays, as was the custom in the united states in the slavery days, and in many respects the life of the brazilian slaves is harder than was that of the slaves in most of the southern states of north america before the emancipation. [illustration: mask.] "but, with all the toil of the brazilian plantations, the life of the slave is a great improvement upon what it was twenty or more years ago. the blacksmiths' shops in rio used to expose slave-shackles for sale as freely as those of our own country exhibit horseshoes, and the demand for these things was not small. there were collars to be locked around the neck, made of round iron an inch in diameter, and provided with prongs to prevent the unfortunate wearer from turning his head to either side; there were masks, through which no food or drink could be taken; shackles for fastening the ankles together, or for binding the wrists to the ankles; chains to be fastened to the waist or ankles, and attached to logs of wood, which the wearer was obliged to drag around wherever he moved; and numberless other devices of cruelty. [illustration: shackles.] "a picture of slavery, drawn by an english clergyman in british guiana before england had freed the slaves in her colonies, will apply to brazil as it was twenty years ago, and as it may now be on some of the country plantations. remember, it is a picture of english slavery as it existed in an english colony. "'the cruelty of the lash, which was often steeped in brine, or pickle and pepper, is something very dreadful to think of. twenty-five was the number of lashes laid on the bare back of the slave when a dry leaf or piece of the boll was found in the cotton, or a branch was broken in the field; fifty for all offences of the next grade; a hundred for standing idle in the field; from a hundred and fifty to two hundred for quarrelling with fellow-slaves; and five hundred, laid on with the greatest possible severity, for any attempt to run away or escape from an estate or plantation. the overseers and gang-drivers made the slaves work with the greatest possible rigor, and their lives bitter with hard bondage. up to the day before the slaves were emancipated, or proclaimed free, the lash was freely used on a plantation near georgetown, and on the morning of the emancipation several freed slaves walked up to their overseer and asked if they were not to be whipped for obtaining their freedom.'[ ] [ ] "british guiana," by rev. h. v. p. bronkhurst. [illustration: household servant.] "emancipation in brazil is largely due to the humanity of the present emperor," continued the doctor. "he urged the suppression of the slave-trade, and was considerably in advance of his cabinet on the subject. when this was accomplished, he presented plans for the emancipation of the negroes held in bondage. he repeatedly sent messages to the brazilian parliament on the subject. progress in the movement was slow, as four fifths of the members of that body were slave-owners, and more than half of them planters. but he never gave up the struggle, and in the law was passed. he had set the example by freeing his own slaves, and inducing the members of his family and many wealthy citizens to do the same. slaves were allowed to purchase their own freedom, and in other ways the humane movement was accelerated. in there were, in round figures, three million slaves in brazil. twenty years later the number had been reduced nearly one half, and it has been further diminished since that time. year by year the number of bondmen is growing less, and it is by no means impossible that, when the day comes for the final proclamation of freedom, there will be no one to set free." "let us hope it will be so," said both our young friends. every reader of this narrative will echo the sentiment, and give all honor to dom pedro ii., the enlightened emperor of brazil. [illustration: slaves gathering sugar-cane.] chapter xxiv. return to the capital.--intrudo sports.--museum at rio.--montevideo and buenos ayres.--the argentine republic.--ascending the river plate. [illustration: at home with the sugar-cane.] our friends remained several days among the coffee and sugar planters to whom they had letters of introduction, and then returned to rio. they found the planters exceedingly hospitable, and it was no easy matter to bring their visit to an end. they were pressed to remain indefinitely, and frank and fred were half inclined to accept the invitation, and become growers of brazilian staples, but when they reflected what a life of isolation they would be compelled to lead they abandoned the idea, and were ready to depart at the appointed time. "it is no wonder," said fred, when they left the house of señor j----, "that he urged us to stay longer. i know we must make allowances for spanish and portuguese politeness, but in this case it was not altogether politeness, but a genuine desire for society. think what it must be to be cooped up in this plantation with no one but your family and the servants for weeks together. if i were he i should hail with delight the arrival of an intelligent visitor, and would shed genuine tears when he announced his intention to move on." frank shared the opinion of his cousin, and the youths resolved that they would not entertain the thought of becoming brazilian planters. their return to the capital was timed to correspond very nearly with the departure of a steamer for the south. they had a day to spare, and devoted it to a few farewell calls, and a visit to the museum, to inspect some of its antiquities and other curiosities. they had already seen the collection, but their first visit was unsatisfactory, as it was on a day when the place was altogether too crowded for comfort in sight-seeing. as they came out of the hotel on their way to the museum several urchins in the street were pelting each other with balls filled with water, one of which accidentally struck against frank. the youth frowned and then laughed; for the moment he could not understand the situation, but suddenly remembered that it was "intrudo day." the youths retreated to the balcony, and for half an hour watched the performance in the street. they were joined by the doctor and a gentleman with whom they had become acquainted; the latter explained the intrudo, which corresponds to the carnival of italy in some respects, but differs widely from it in others. "the intrudo festival begins on the sunday previous to ash wednesday," said their informant, "and lasts three days; the carnival has special reference to abstinence from eating flesh, but the intrudo has no such significance. in the carnival of naples and other italian cities, dust, flowers, confectionery and its counterfeits, are the missiles used in the mimic combats, while the intrudo is devoted to throwing balls filled with water, emptying small bags of flour and starch, and to playing jokes more or less practical in their nature. "as you are strangers in the hotel you are exempted from the tricks connected with the intrudo, but you must expect an occasional attention of the kind you have already experienced. when i rose this morning i found that one leg of my trousers had been sewn up near the bottom, and on placing my foot inside in the effort to dress myself half a dozen intrudo balls were crushed. fortunately i had some clothing in a trunk of which i alone held the key, and the trunk was in a locked closet in sole charge of my butler. all clothing that was accessible had been removed; it was probably done while i was busy late the previous evening in despoiling the apartment of a friend. "of the two boiled eggs i had for breakfast one was raw and the other hard enough to be used as a bullet; my tea was sweetened with salt; slices of boiled tongue were really pieces of soaked leather; and the cold chicken had evidently been run through a sewing machine, to judge by the number of threads in it. pranks had been played with everything on the table; while you were laughing at the perplexities of your neighbor you found yourself the victim of a kindred deception. [illustration: intrudo sports thirty years ago.] "ladies are the greatest lovers of the intrudo sports, and if you have any lady acquaintances here i warn you not to make any formal calls on them to-day, if you wish to preserve your dignity unruffled. it is a proverb here that 'intrudo lies are no sin;' and while a lady is inviting a friend to a chair, and promising not to molest him in any way, she is getting ready to crush an intrudo ball in his neck, or upon his shoulder, or arranging for him to sit down upon a dozen of them." [illustration: intrudo balls and bottles.] the gentleman sent a servant for some intrudo balls and bottles, and gave the youths an opportunity to examine them. they were composed of wax thin enough to be easily broken in the hand or when striking an object a few feet away, and were filled with scented water. "they were formerly," said their informant, "made much larger than at present, and immense quantities were sold and used. at present they are small. the throwing of intrudo balls in the streets is forbidden by the police, but occasionally the unruly urchins will embrace the opportunity to use them on each other, as you have already discovered. in many houses the balls are filled with flour instead of water, and the sport of the season resembles that of naples and venice. thirty years ago every negro boy on the street was armed with a large 'squirt-gun,' which he used freely upon those of his own color; white people were at liberty to pelt any one of their complexion, and the sport became so riotous that its suppression was a public necessity." [illustration: wooden cannon.] among the curiosities in the museum they found a fine collection of living and stuffed specimens of the wild animals of brazil. it included several jaguars and other carnivora from the interior provinces; a large cage filled with monkeys of every sort; another of snakes, among which was an anaconda seventeen feet long--at least, so said the attendant, and they were willing to take his word for it without personally measuring the reptile. there were stuffed humming-birds of many kinds; eagles, and their kindred, the vulture and condor; beautiful specimens of the ibis, which recalled the sacred bird of egypt; together with many other winged creatures that have no names in our vocabulary. one of the condors had been recently used in a bull-baiting; the attendant narrated, with great animation, how the bird had been chained to the back of a young bull, and then turned into a ring. bird and beast were maddened by the explosion of fireworks fastened to the animal's head; in his efforts to escape the condor tore great gashes in the flesh of his companion in misfortune. it is pleasant to record that these amusements are every year less and less appreciated in south america, and it is to be hoped the day is not far distant when they will cease altogether. [illustration: the condor and the bull.] there was a wooden cannon which was captured from the rebels in one of the northern provinces in the last revolution. it was made of slabs of wood bound together with hoops of iron, and appeared to have been used; it was a type of the earliest known cannon, and carried the thoughts of the spectators back to the days when artillery was first used on the battlefield. horrible in appearance were embalmed heads from the country of the tapajos; dr. bronson explained that this tribe used to preserve the heads of their enemies, and wear them on their necks as trophies of their valor. a string through the mouth was used for suspending such a prize; the eyes were filled with wax and cement, and the whole face was built out with this material, to make it as lifelike as possible. on the top of the head was a tuft of hair, and the positions of the ears were indicated by rosettes. [illustration: embalmed head.] close to these preserved heads was a case containing musical instruments resembling flutes and horns, and said to be of great antiquity; they were from the upper part of the amazon valley, and coeval with the incas of peru. one trumpet attracted the attention of the youths; it was about three feet long, tapering regularly from end to end, and provided at the larger extremity with a fringe of feathers, which modulated the sound when the instrument was used. the attendant asked frank and fred to guess what it was made of; they named everything they could think of, but without success, and were finally told it was an alligator's tail! [illustration: ancient musical instruments.] there were ancient combs, household utensils, and other things in the collection; frank made a sketch of a comb which consisted of thin strips of a very hard wood set in transverse bars, and firmly bound with fine threads of a fibre resembling silk. one edge of the comb was straight, and the other curved; between the transverse strips that held the teeth in place, the flat space was covered with a closely woven mass of binding material, and a careful inspection showed the tracery of figures so delicate as to require very strong eyesight on the part of the operator. [illustration: ancient comb.] among the specimens of pottery was a basin about eighteen inches in diameter, and perfectly preserved. the outside was quite plain, and somewhat blackened by smoke, but the inside was decorated with a great variety of lines that resembled serpents twisted together; the glazing was broken in many places, and did not seem to be well put on, while the shape of the basin indicated that it was made without the assistance of the potter's wheel. [illustration: brazilian basin.] space will not permit us to name all the objects which occupied the time of the youths in their visit to the museum; we will drop the basin, at the risk of breaking it, and accompany the party on board the steamer which is to carry them southward. [illustration: montevideo from the sea.] they left the bay of rio janeiro as they had entered it, passing near the base of the sugar-loaf, and keeping their eyes fixed on its lofty peak until it dwindled to a mere point on the horizon. southward and a little to the westward they took their course, and six days after leaving rio were in front of montevideo, the capital of uruguay. [illustration: view in the capital of uruguay.] they found it a clean and well-built city, consisting largely of flat-roofed houses a single story in height, though there were many modern structures of two or three stories. it is on a point of land extending into a bay which affords shelter from all winds except the southwest; the harbor is well provided with docks and other conveniences for shipping purposes, and the city has half a dozen street railways, is lighted with gas, and has several steam railways into the interior of uruguay. the business of the place is principally in the exportation of hides, wool, horse-hair, and other products of uruguay and the surrounding country, and the importation of machinery, lumber, and numerous articles which may be classified as "assorted goods." frank investigated the statistics, and found that montevideo has a population of more than one hundred thousand, while uruguay, of which it is the capital, has half a million inhabitants, and an area of seventy thousand square miles. the party had about five hours on shore at montevideo, and then returned to the steamer to cross the mouth of the rio de la plata to buenos ayres, one hundred and thirty miles distant. from the anchorage, about six miles from the city, they were taken ashore in a steam tender which came puffing out to meet them. they landed with all their baggage, and after a delay in port of some twenty hours the steamer proceeded to the strait of magellan and the pacific ocean. in a subsequent chapter we will know more about her course. most of the foreign steamers going southward from montevideo do not visit buenos ayres, but go direct to the strait without stopping. twice as large as montevideo, and with many evidences of wealth and prosperity, buenos ayres impressed our young friends as second only to rio janeiro among the cities of the south american continent, as far as they had seen them. its streets are parallel to each other; it contains many fine buildings, both public and private; has ten daily newspapers in spanish, french, english, german, and italian, besides several weekly or monthly publications; can boast of banks, theatres, hospitals, churches, convents, public libraries, museums, and the like; has several good hotels; and is, in fact, a comfortable place to be in. so thought our friends as they settled in their hotel and afterwards took a stroll through one of the principal streets. "if only montevideo had a country back of it like that which feeds buenos ayres it would get the most of the business at the mouth of the river plate. montevideo has a good harbor and buenos ayres a poor one; the former has safe anchorage and is well sheltered, while the latter is shallow, and open to half the winds that blow. in the easterly gales the estuary at buenos ayres is apt to overflow its banks, and when there is a strong wind from the west the water is so blown out that ships of deep draught have to change their moorings. but montevideo has no important country behind it, while buenos ayres sweeps all the way westward to the andes, south to patagonia, and north into paraguay." so spoke the captain of the steamer as they were crossing the broad estuary of the la plata. as they looked on the evidences of prosperity in buenos ayres, and learned that the city had grown up under many disadvantages, they expressed their admiration for the energy and enterprise of its merchants in no stinted terms. [illustration: ox-cart of buenos ayres.] only small vessels can come close to the water-front of the city; ships drawing more than eighteen feet must anchor several miles out, and all freight and passengers come to the shore in lighters. two piers, each fifteen hundred feet long, have been built, for the use of small steamers and other boats of light draught; before these piers were constructed it was necessary to land in flat-bottomed boats, or in carts with wheels ten or twelve feet in diameter, which were pushed out into the water, where they could receive their loads. even at present the carts must be used occasionally, when an extremely low tide prevents boats from reaching the piers. frank and fred were reminded of the harbor of madras, and their adventures in going ashore there in a masullah boat; on the whole they thought the cart preferable to the masullah boat, but would risk a brief delay rather than intrust themselves to it if a gale happened to be blowing. water for drinking purposes was formerly as scarce in the city as that for anchoring ships in front of it. down to a few years ago the inhabitants depended upon wells within the city limits, and carts which brought water from the river, where it was not affected by the tide from the sea. the well water was brackish and hardly drinkable, while the river water was sold at a high price. now the city has been provided with waterworks and the old troubles have ceased. the drainage has been improved, and altogether it is a cleanly place, though less so than montevideo. the latter owes its name to the mountain or hill on which it is partly built, and from which there is a fine view; while the former is named for its "good air." it is certainly a healthy place, according to the reports of residents, though it is liable to sudden changes of temperature. the thermometer rarely exceeds ninety degrees or descends below eighteen degrees; yellow fever comes occasionally, but not often, and there are no other epidemics. two days in buenos ayres were sufficient to exhaust the characteristic features of the place, and give the youths an insight into the history of the country of which it was the seaport. we will again exercise our privilege of peeping into fred's note-book for information which will interest our readers. [illustration: soldiers of the argentine republic.] "buenos ayres," the record says, "is the capital of the province of the same name, and also of the argentine republic, or argentine confederation, of which the province forms a part. the country has been through a series of wars which it is not necessary to describe here; from present indications it has a destiny of peace before it, though a revolution may break out at any moment. the argentine confederation includes fourteen provinces; it has a president, who is elected for six years, a cabinet of five ministers, a congress of two houses, a national debt, an army and a navy, together with other paraphernalia of government. it has two thousand miles of railway, and another thousand is in process of building; it has frequent disputes with chili as to its rights in patagonia; a population of about two millions; and herds of cattle, sheep, and horses too large for careful enumeration. "of late years it has encouraged emigration from europe, and there are probably half a million people of european birth now living in the country. one fourth of these are italians, and the rest are spaniards, irish, english and scotch, germans, portuguese, and a few other nationalities; in the province of buenos ayres there are seventy thousand italians, forty thousand of whom are in the city of that name. at every step we hear the italian language spoken, and the signs over the shop doors bear more italian than spanish names. the spaniards were the original settlers of the country, but their identity is rapidly disappearing under the influx of immigration from europe. [illustration: a guacho.] "it is interesting to note the occupations of the various nationalities as they settle in this new country. the descendants of the original conquerors are generally known as _guachos_, or 'countrymen;' they rarely live in the cities, preferring the wild life of the interior, where they dwell in rude huts, subsist on the flesh of cattle or wild game, and have an existence little better than semi-civilized. they are the finest horsemen in the world, if half the stories we hear of them are true, and a group of guachos ought to put to shame the best circus troupe that was ever organized. [illustration: a guacho on horseback.] "apropos of this, i am told that a circus company came to buenos ayres, years ago, when the place was the resort of the guachos, and gave a performance. just as the show ended a group of guachos rode into the ring and completely outdid the circus men in every one of their tricks, besides several that were not down in the bills. the circus company sailed away for valparaiso, but it had no better luck there than at buenos ayres. the chilians are splendid horsemen, and defeated the professional performers at their own game. it was probably the same company we heard about at lima. "the italian emigrants engage in building houses and in raising vegetables in the market-gardens surrounding the principal cities; those from genoa have almost a monopoly of the boating business on the rivers, and they man the coasting ships and other craft. the catalonian spaniards are mostly wine-merchants; the andalusians are shop-keepers and cigar dealers; and the galicians are employed as domestics, porters, watchmen, and railway servants of the lower grades. emigrants from the basque provinces are the most numerous, next to the italians, and their employments are similar to those of the galicians, in addition to bricklaying, sheep-tending, and farm-work in general. the irish are the sheep-farmers of the country, and it is said there are thirty millions of sheep in the argentine republic owned by irish settlers. the english, scotch, and germans are generally occupied with commerce, though some of them have gone into cattle and sheep farming, like the irish; the french are commercially inclined, some branches of trade being almost monopolized by them, and they assimilate with the native argentines more readily than do the english and germans. the aboriginal araucanians generally retain their independence, leading a nomadic life, and keeping large herds of cattle and horses, which furnish their subsistence. [illustration: post-station on the pampas.] "there you have a picture of the population, which is as heterogeneous as that of the united states of north america, and has good promise for the future. the country is as diversified as the people; it consists of dense forests and vast pampas or plains, in which the herds of countless cattle and horses, and flocks of equally countless sheep, find a nutritious pasture. the pampas are far more extensive than the forests, and there are places where you may travel miles and miles without seeing a tree, or even a bush. altogether, the argentine republic contains a million square miles of land between latitude ° and ° south, and from the atlantic ocean to the andes, which separate it from chili. the southern part of the territory is a vast desert; it is certainly a foolish quarrel between chili and the republic, for the possession of this inhospitable region. the whole area in dispute is not worth the lives of the men who have died there while trying to hold on to it." while fred was writing the foregoing notes on the country, and dr. bronson and frank were occupied with letters for home, manuel was sent to engage passage on a steamer bound up the river plate. frank will tell us the story of the voyage. [illustration; a steamer on the river plate.] "navigation on the river plate is free to all nations," wrote the youth in his journal, "the same as on the amazon. the river is variously called 'rio de la plata,' 'river plate,' and 'plate river,' and, strictly speaking, it is an estuary rather than a river. it is formed by the junction of the parana river with the uruguay almost within sight of the ocean; the broad estuary is full of shoals and intricate channels which render the navigation difficult. large steamers can ascend the parana a thousand miles from the sea; the basin of the river plate is estimated to contain a million and a quarter square miles of land, and the inland navigation which terminates at buenos ayres and montevideo is said to be not less than ten thousand miles. the paraguay may be considered the head and principal stream of the plate system; its sources are only a few miles from those of the madeira, and the two streams might be easily united by means of a canal. [illustration: a refuge from mosquitoes.] "we left buenos ayres on a boat drawing about ten feet of water, and rigged like an ocean steamer; we wondered what could be the use of the masts in river navigation, but found out before the voyage was over. mosquitoes were thick and thirsty, but, like mosquitoes in other countries, they did not fly high in the air; when they were too numerous on deck for comfort, we climbed into the rigging and escaped their attentions. we advise all travellers who may follow us to provide themselves with mosquito nettings; and if they have preference in steamers, to choose one that has rigging in which they can find shelter. the cabins are apt to be disagreeably warm, and, besides, one does not like to be shut up there in the evening, when he can find a spot where the night air can be enjoyed without the presence of the winged pests of south america." chapter xxv. visiting a cattle estate.--the lasso and bolas.--ascending the paraguay and parana rivers.--rosario and asuncion.--paraguayan war.--industries of the country.--matÉ. "the terms argentine republic and river plate are misnomers," said frank, in his journal; "argentine republic means 'republic of silver,' and 'rio de la plata' has the same significance applied to the great stream. there is no silver on the banks of the river or anywhere near it; argentiferous deposits have been found in the mountainous parts of the country, but they have not been worked to any extent. the wealth of the republic is in the fertility of the soil, and its grazing facilities. precious or other metals do not figure in the exports, which are almost entirely confined to hides, beef, horns, tallow, and wool. "after passing the mouth of the uruguay we were frequently quite near the shore, and could see great herds of cattle grazing wherever the country was open. we stopped at one of the _estancias_, or cattle estates; an accident to the machinery detained us several hours, and we accepted the invitation of one of the guachos to ride out about a mile from the landing and witness the operation of branding cattle. "it was conducted without any regard to the feelings of the animal which received the brand. he was singled out from his fellows by one of the _vaqueros_, or herdsmen, who was mounted on a swift horse and equipped with a lasso, a long rope with a noose at the end. the lasso was thrown over the horns of the victim, or, perhaps, over one of his fore-legs; in either case it brought him to the ground, or enabled the vaquero to lead him to where several men stood ready for their share of the work. [illustration: branding cattle on an estancia.] "they held him firmly on the earth, and then the branding-iron, which had been heated to redness, was applied to his hide, and held there with such force that it burned in deeply. the bellowing of the poor brute was unheeded; when the iron was removed he was allowed to rise and gallop off to his companions, and he lost no time in doing so. then the iron was returned to the fire and made ready for the next victim, and so the operation went on with great rapidity. the mark of the brand is indelible not only while the animal lives, but after his hide has passed through the hands of the tanner. [illustration: use of the lasso and bolas.] "another weapon of the vaquero is the _bolas_, which consists of two balls joined by a leather thong six or eight feet in length; they are usually round stones, or balls of iron or lead, and in either case are covered with leather, which is attached to the thong. they are swung round the head until they attain great velocity, and then hurled at the animal; they twist around his legs, and bring him to the ground, or, at all events, hamper his speed so that he can be overtaken. "another kind of bolas consists of three balls united by thongs to a common centre; they are more difficult to handle than the other sort, and are chiefly used for hunting the guanaco and ostrich on the plains in the southern part of the republic, and in patagonia. fred and i tried to use the bolas, the ordinary kind, but we found that it went generally in the opposite direction from what we intended. one of the guachos showed us how to do it, and set us to trying to 'bolear' a stake driven in the ground ten yards away. we didn't hit the stake a single time, but we should assuredly have brought each other down if we had not stood at safe distances apart. when a novice is practising, the guachos require that he shall be far out of any possibility of reaching them by a stray shot. "'now see how i'll do it,' said one of the guachos, as he started in pursuit of a steer that was escaping from the herd. "while the animal was at full gallop the bolas went twining around his hind-legs, bringing him to a dead halt, but without injuring him in the least. the guacho repeated the performance two or three times in succession, and showed that he was thoroughly skilled in the use of the weapon, which he launched with terrible swiftness and unerring accuracy. "the hunters in patagonia generally carry no other weapons than the lasso and the bolas in their pursuit of the guanaco and ostrich. wild horses are tripped up with the bolas and then secured with the lasso, and sometimes the leaden ball, hitting a horse fairly on the forehead, will bring him to the ground as lifeless as though shot through the heart. "when the repairs to the engines were completed a gun was fired by the steamer, and we galloped back to the landing. we steamed on until late in the evening, passing alternate stretches of forest and open ground, and on two or three occasions feeling the sand-bars with our keel. this mode of sounding was not to the liking of the captain and pilot, and so we anchored until morning. "for the first two hundred miles of its course as we ascend it the parana is a labyrinth of islands and channels; they are so numerous as to bewilder the novice, and even the old pilots say they are often perplexed by the multiplicity of ways open to them. the islands are covered with fruit trees, from which the markets of buenos ayres and montevideo are supplied, and they overhang the water so that in some places a boat may be loaded without its occupant stepping on shore. the forests are gay with flowers in bloom, the air is filled with fragrance, little pools and nooks in the islands are covered with aquatic plants, and the luxuriance of vegetation is so great that we were continually reminded of the lower amazon. "if only the mosquitoes had let us alone we should have found the journey one of the most interesting we have ever made. "the country is rapidly filling up with inhabitants, who come from all parts of europe, as already mentioned, but there is yet an immense area that awaits settlement. we ask for the indians, but have difficulty in finding them; at various times they have had quarrels with the settlers, but soon found it was better to remain on terms of peace. as the country has been occupied with farms and cattle-ranches, they have found a scarcity of game which has led them to retire into the interior. they are rarely seen on the lower part of the river, except where they have hired out as herdsmen to the owners of the cattle estates, the only kind of labor they are willing to engage in. [illustration: costumes of paraguay.] "but as we go on we find the river narrower, its banks higher, and the islands less numerous. two hundred miles from the mouth of the parana proper, and four hundred from the ocean, we came to rosario, and remained several hours. the city surprised us by its extent and attractive features. in it was a wretched town with a few hundred huts, and perhaps three thousand inhabitants; now its population numbers fifty thousand, and it is next to buenos ayres in commercial importance. it is a port of entry for ships of all nations. "we saw steamers from half the countries of europe, and especially from england, taking in their cargoes at rosario. it has fine and well-paved streets, which are provided with gas and railways, and lined with houses that would do honor to any city of its size in north america; ships of any draught may lie close up to the high bluff on which it stands, and there is no occasion for building expensive docks. there are several railways running to the interior of the republic, and one of them is intended to traverse the andes, and connect with the chilian lines to the pacific coast. "the salada, the first great tributary of the parana from the west, joins the main stream about three hundred and fifty miles above its mouth. we made several stops at towns and cattle estates between rosario and corrientes, which is a prosperous place on the east bank of the parana, just below its junction with the paraguay river. it is a port of entry, like rosario, and has a good deal of foreign commerce; many german and english merchants are established here, and are getting almost a monopoly of the foreign trade. [illustration: indians of the "gran chaco."] "at corrientes we saw several chaco indians, who are the aboriginals of this region. the country on the west bank is known as _el gran chaco_; and though part of it has been settled, there is a very large region still in the hands of the indians. unlike their brethren lower down, they remain independent or nearly so; they do not disturb the whites unless first interfered with, and then they are ready for battle. many a soldier of paraguay and the argentine republic has fallen before their lances and arrows in the last fifty years. "one day, when the steamer was running close to the west bank of the river, we saw a group of horsemen darting among the trees. inspection with our glasses showed them to be indians, and the captain confirmed our observation. as we went slowly on they got up a sort of race with the steamer, and gave us a good chance to see them. all were on horseback, men, women, and children; they had neither saddles nor bridles, but guided their horses with thongs, which were fastened around the lower jaws. they shouted and gesticulated for us to stop, but we had no business with them, as they had nothing which the steamer's people wanted to buy. [illustration: battle with chaco indians.] "they are formidable enemies in war, as they are fearless and skilled horsemen, quite the equals of the comanches or other wild men of our western plains. in their fights with the paraguayan troops they have been known to stand up on the backs of their horses to resist an attack; just as the attacking force was within shooting distance they dropped astride of their animals, and with wild whoops dashed forward, creating a stampede among the frightened horses of their enemies, and making a scene of wild disorder. [illustration: indians of the lenqua, river plate.] "lieutenant page of the united states navy explored the parana and paraguay rivers and their tributaries in , and visited some of these indian tribes. he describes the angaité tribe as a people of remarkable stature, many of them exceeding six feet in height, and all finely formed and athletic. the old jesuits give wonderful accounts of the great age to which these people live; they say that if one dies at eighty he is said to have been cut off in the flower of his existence. men of a hundred years old will mount fiery horses and subdue them, and some of these people have reached the extraordinary age of one hundred and twenty years! one of their chiefs, when asked how old he was, said he did not know, but he was married and had a son when the church at asuncion was built. as the church was then one hundred and five years old the warrior had a ripe old age, supposing, of course, he told the truth. [illustration: indians shooting fishes.] "they are skilful with the lasso and bolas, and also with their spears and bows. the whites try to prevent their obtaining fire-arms, but somehow they manage to get them through traders, and are not slow in learning how to use them. they shoot fishes in the streams with their bows and arrows, and though a fish may be three or four feet under water they rarely fail to pierce him. as with most indian tribes, the men engage in hunting and breaking horses, and leave all the drudgery to the women. "passing the mouth of the parana, we ascended the paraguay river to asuncion, the capital of the republic and its principal city. it has suffered terribly in the wars which paraguay has waged with her neighbors, but is now fairly prosperous; if the country will not go to war again asuncion may hope for a satisfactory future, as it has a good position, and is connected with the interior by a line of railway nearly two hundred miles long. we have heard many stories about the war which lasted from to , and was very near making a complete ruin of paraguay. perhaps this is a good place to say something about it. "general lopez, who was then president and commander-in-chief of the armies, revived some old disputes with brazil and the argentine republic concerning the boundaries between paraguay and those countries. he began hostilities by capturing a brazilian steamer which was passing asuncion on a peaceful mission, and seizing two argentine steamers near corrientes. then he surrounded that town with his army and threatened its capture, and he sent assistance to some revolutionists in uruguay who were trying to overthrow the government of that country. "the result of all this was that the three countries made war upon paraguay, and they agreed not to stop fighting until they had completely conquered it, and made it powerless to go to war again. they carried out their programme completely; asuncion was occupied, the army was defeated in several battles, and general lopez was killed, in march, . then peace was declared, but it found the country prostrated, burdened with a heavy debt, and reduced in territory. before the war the population of paraguay was about half a million; it was estimated that , men were killed during the struggle, or died of disease consequent upon it, and that , women perished by famine and exposure in the forests and swamps. and all this for the ambition and avarice of one man, general lopez! [illustration: a river port during the war.] "a gentleman who was here during the war tells us that all business was suspended, and the river was occupied by fleets of war-ships and gun-boats, and defended by forts. the few ports on the river were converted into military stations, and the expenditure of money and credit, as well as the loss of life, on both sides was something enormous. there were countless scenes of horror, such as are witnessed in every war, and the stories of bravery and cowardice, honor and treachery, devotion and suffering, would fill volumes. before the war ended the soldiers of lopez were barefooted, and almost without clothing, and many of their enemies were in an equally sorry plight. this gentleman visited the headquarters of lopez one day, and found a soldier on duty there wearing nothing but a cloth around his waist and a cap on his head. thus dressed, and with his gun on his shoulder, he paced in front of the general with the dignity of a prussian grenadier. [illustration: headquarters of general lopez.] "from all i can learn, i judge that the paraguayan people fought bravely and suffered terribly, and were overpowered by superior numbers. lopez appears to have been a man of pleasant manners in social life, but he had no care for the good of his country, and sacrificed all its interests to his own purposes. before the war broke out most of the commerce was in his hands; nothing could be imported or exported without his permission, and the payment of a tax which went into his pockets. he provoked the war in hope of establishing a kingdom, and failed, as he deserved to fail. "the country has few manufactures, and the principal industries are agriculture and the raising of sheep, cattle, and horses. in agriculture, the exported articles are tobacco and yerba maté or paraguayan tea; beef, mutton, hides, and wool are the products of the grazing lands which find their way to other countries, and there are some shipments of timber and fruit. "of late years an industry of a new kind has sprung up on the river plate and its tributaries, the shipment of frozen meat to england and the continent of europe. on our way up the river we stopped at one of the estancias where this business was conducted, and had a chance to see some of its details. the manager kindly took us through the establishment, and explained the various processes. "the animals to be slaughtered and shipped--whether cattle or sheep--are killed and dressed in the usual way. the beeves are divided into quarters, but the sheep are kept whole; in either case the meat is taken to a large room, where it is hung on racks, so that no two pieces shall come in contact with each other. this room is really an enormous refrigerator, and when it is filled the doors are shut tight, and the air within is cooled below the freezing-point by an artificial process. "when the meat has been properly frozen, it is removed from the room and carried on board the steamer at the dock. this steamer has her hold arranged on the refrigerating system, with several inches of thick felt between double walls of planking, so that heat is conducted away very slowly. when the hold is filled the cooling apparatus is set in operation, and the temperature is lowered to about ° fahrenheit; the apparatus is kept at work during the entire voyage, and until the steamer delivers her cargo in europe. the meat thus remains perfectly fresh, although the ship passes the equator and remains for days and days under a tropical sun. "meat is very cheap in south america and very dear in europe. the managers of the new enterprise claim that they have met with complete success, and will soon be able to feed the whole of europe on beef and mutton grown on the pampas of south america. they have many prejudices to overcome, besides the opposition which the graziers and butchers of the old world are making to the prospect of having their home industries ruined by these importations. [illustration: paraguayan mother and daughters.] "we wanted to ascend the paraguay to its head-waters, but circumstances did not permit, and we turned back from asuncion. we went to the end of the railway, and had a delightful ride through a diversified country; forest, pampas, hills, valleys, mountains, and plains alternated rapidly, and gave us a succession of surprises. numerous herds of cattle and horses told of the wealth of the country in live-stock, and if we had not seen the herds we should have known of the prevailing industry by the piles of hides that awaited shipment at the railway stations. "we are in the land of _yerba maté_, or paraguay tea, and have drunk nothing else at breakfast and other meals; of course, we have tried it frequently in our journeyings in south america, but have never adhered closely to it until now. perhaps you would like to know more fully about it. [illustration: a landed proprietor.] "well, everybody drinks it, or, rather, sucks it, as the leaves are broken into powder while drying, and not preserved whole, like chinese tea-leaves. fred and i have provided ourselves with _bombillas_, as the tubes are called, after the custom of the european residents, and whenever the cup is circulating we come in for our share. the dry powder is poured into a cup or bowl and covered with boiling water; when it has stood long enough for the infusion to be drawn it is sucked through the bombilla, precisely as people in new york take lemonades through straws. [illustration: cups and tubes for matÉ.] "the natives pass the cup and tube from one to another, but the european residents generally carry tubes of their own, and only the cup is passed around. the tube may be a reed or a straw, or of metal or glass, according to the fancy of the owner; ours are of glass, and we carry them in cases to prevent their being broken. "everybody drinks _maté_, and the europeans who come here take to it with the greatest readiness. it has the same refreshing qualities as are found in tea and coffee; the chemists say it contains _caffeine_ and _theine_, together with caffeo-tannic acid, and it is sometimes recommended by physicians for their patients. we are told that there is no part of the world where chinese tea is consumed by the inhabitants in as great a proportion as is maté by the south americans. it is taken at meals and between meals; at all hours of the day and night, and also between those hours. "and now for the plant. its scientific name is _ilex paraguayensis_; it is a species of holly, growing on the banks of rivers in paraguay and in the mountains of brazil and bolivia. it reaches a height of fifteen or twenty feet, and its leaves are four or five inches long, with serrated edges. the leaves are dried by artificial heat on a network of small poles, over a hard, earthen floor; when thoroughly roasted they are beaten with sticks until reduced to the powder i have already mentioned, when they fall through the network to the floor. "this powder is collected and packed in bags of hide; each bag holds about two hundred pounds of maté, and in this condition it is shipped to market. about five million pounds of maté are sent every year from paraguay to other south american countries, but very little goes to north america or to europe. the outside world has not yet learned of its virtues to any appreciable extent. "'do you sweeten it as you do chinese tea?' i hear some one asking. "generally you do not. the natives almost never do, but some of the europeans, who were accustomed to sweetened tea in their old homes, put a little sugar in the maté. others put in a slice of lemon, just as the russians do with their tea; fred and i have taken our maté plain, and like it very much." * * * * * "during our return to buenos ayres," continued frank, "we went a short distance up the parana, which is longer than the paraguay river, but smaller in volume. its banks are higher and more picturesque, but the country bordering the two streams appears to be pretty much the same. the river can be ascended a long distance; in the upper part it can only be navigated by boats of light draught, as it spreads over sand-bars, and is shallow in many places. [illustration: paraguayan cart.] "the parana rises in the mountains back of rio janeiro, and its head-springs are not more than one hundred miles from that city. several streams unite to form this river; where it leaves the mountain region it has a fall which is said, by many travellers, to be inferior to no other in the world, not even to niagara. here is the way it is described: "'after collecting the waters of several rivers on both banks, and especially those of the tieté and paranapanema from the east, the parana increases in width until it attains nearly four thousand five hundred yards, a short distance above the falls; then the immense mass of water is suddenly confined within a gorge of two hundred feet, through which it dashes with fury to the ledge, whence it is precipitated to a depth of fifty-six feet. it is computed that the volume of water per minute is equal to one million tons; the velocity of the flood through the gorge is forty miles an hour, and the roar of the cataract is distinctly audible at a distance of thirty miles.' "if we can't have the pleasure of seeing the guayrá or salto grande, as the cataract of the parana is called, we will console ourselves with the reflection that we have seen niagara, and are disinclined to believe it has any superior in the world. any way, it is three times as high as the cataract of the parana, and if anybody doubts that there is a million tons of water passing over the american and horseshoe falls every minute he is at liberty to count them." [illustration: carlo antonio lopez, former president of paraguay.] chapter xxvi. return to buenos ayres.--dividing the party.--two routes to valparaiso.--frank's journey over the pampas.--mendoza.--at the foot of the andes. [illustration: olive branch from the banks of the parana.] on the way down the river frank and fred were occupied with their journals and letters, and with many consultations of the map of south america. the day before their arrival at buenos ayres fred made a suggestion to his cousin relative to their future movements, and intimated that he thought it would be approved by the doctor. "i think so too," replied frank, "and we'll go and ask him. it is a repetition of our scheme in africa without half as many difficulties in the way." finding dr. bronson engaged in nothing more absorbing than looking at the distant bank of the river, they unfolded their scheme. "i have thought," said fred, "it would be a good plan for us to separate at buenos ayres to meet again at valparaiso. there are two routes from one city to the other; the first by steamer, through the strait of magellan, and the second overland. one of us, accompanied by manuel, can travel across the country, and the other two can go by water. we can time our journey so as to meet at valparaiso, and if either expedition is a few days in advance of the other it would be no great hardship, as there is enough of interest in chili to enable the time to pass away pleasantly." "you have anticipated what i was about proposing to you," said the doctor, with a smile. "i have been considering the very scheme you have studied out, and approve it heartily. you may decide for yourselves which of you will go overland with manuel while the other accompanies me on the steamer." the youths retired for consultation. in half an hour they returned to the doctor with the announcement that frank would make the land journey, while fred would accompany dr. bronson through the strait of magellan to valparaiso. the rest of the time on the rio de la plata was occupied with plans for the trip, and before they realized that the voyage was at an end they were anchored in front of buenos ayres. while they are completing their preparations for the double journey to the great seaport of chili, we will consider the routes they are about to travel. we have already mentioned the steamers of the english company that perform a fortnightly service each way between liverpool and the ports of the east and west coasts of south america. their time-tables can be relied upon--the accidents of the ocean excepted--and their arrivals and departures are as closely arranged as those of the magnificent vessels traversing the atlantic between new york and the ports of england and western europe. the regular fortnightly steamer bound southward was due at buenos ayres two days after the return of our friends from their trip to asuncion, and promptly at the designated date the smoke from her funnels made a dark streak on the horizon to the eastward. [illustration: map of chili, argentine confederation, and uruguay.] all the steamers of this line do not call at buenos ayres; when they do not visit the port the service is performed by an extra steamer from montevideo. there are german, french, and italian steamers, which ply through the strait of magellan, performing a service similar to that of the english company, but they only run monthly, and their accommodations are inferior to those of the old established line. besides, their departures are largely governed by the exigencies of freight, and a passenger is liable to be detained an indefinite number of hours, or even days, for the shipment or discharge of cargo. at the time our friends were in south america the railway from the eastward was completed and in operation as far as mendoza, within forty miles of the base of the mountains, while the line from valparaiso was open to santa rosa, among the foot-hills of the andes. consequently frank had in prospect a journey between mendoza and santa rosa after the primitive manner of travelling in the andes.[ ] [ ] as this book goes to press the author is informed that work on both sides of the andes is being vigorously prosecuted by the chilian and argentine governments. the engineers promise to have the line in operation in , unless hindered by difficulties now unforeseen. the entire length from buenos ayres to valparaiso by the route surveyed will be miles, and the estimated cost is thirty million dollars. [illustration: in the strait of magellan.] as the journey over the andes was to be made in the saddle, frank determined to travel in "light marching order." manuel was sent to mendoza immediately to make preliminary arrangements for the saddle and pack animals, while frank remained in buenos ayres to make a few purchases, and to be with his friends until their embarkation on the steamer. they were duly seen on board, and with many affectionate words of farewell, and good wishes expressed on both sides, frank returned to shore, whence he watched the steamer until watching was no longer practicable. while dr. bronson and fred are heading southward we will accompany frank in his journey across the pampas and over the andes. in a direct line, as a carrier pigeon might fly, mendoza is six hundred and ten miles from buenos ayres, but by the windings of the carriage-road and the railway it is about seven hundred. by the old post route the journey required from six to nine days, but the railway carries the traveller from one city to the other inside of forty hours. when the line is completed from ocean to ocean the speed will doubtless be accelerated, and through trains will pass from buenos ayres to valparaiso in forty-eight or fifty hours. travellers who have no desire to spend a fortnight on the steamer, or study the scenery of the strait of magellan, will give preference to the railway route, and the cabin passengers of the english or other vessels between buenos ayres and valparaiso, or vice versa, are not likely to be numerous. the railway ride over the pampas was interesting enough at first, but frank soon found it monotonous. one mile greatly resembled another mile, as there is not much diversity of scenery on the broad plains, with their carpet of grass and scanty patches of trees. several times the youth found himself regretting the departure of the old customs, and wished that he could emulate the example of lieutenant strain, and gallop across the pampas with the government courier. but the perusal of strain's narrative, portraying the hardships and difficulties experienced by that gallant officer, brought him to his senses, and he was quite contented to be journeying in a railway carriage. frank copied into his note-book the following description, by sir francis head, of the aspect of the plains of buenos ayres: "this region, bordering on the atlantic, varies with the four seasons of the year in a most remarkable manner. in winter the leaves of the thistles are large and luxuriant, and the whole surface of the country has the rough appearance of a turnip-field. the clover in this season is extremely rich and strong; and the sight of the wild cattle grazing in full liberty on such pasture is very beautiful. in spring the clover has vanished, the leaves of the thistles have extended along the ground, and the country still looks like a rough crop of turnips. in less than a month the change is most extraordinary; the whole region becomes a luxuriant wood of enormous thistles, which have suddenly shot up to a height of ten or eleven feet, and are all in full bloom. "the road or path is hemmed in on both sides; the view is completely obstructed; not an animal is to be seen; and the stems of the thistles are so close to each other, and so strong, that, independent of the prickles with which they are armed, they form an impenetrable barrier. the sudden growth of these plants is quite astonishing; and though it would be an unusual fortune in military history, yet it is really possible that an invading army, unacquainted with this country, might be imprisoned by these thistles before they had time to escape from them. the summer is not over before the scene undergoes another rapid change, the thistles suddenly lose their sap and verdure, their heads droop, the leaves shrink and fade, the stems become black and dead, and they remain rattling with the breeze one against another until the violence of the _pampero_, or hurricane, levels them to the ground, whence they rapidly decompose and disappear; the clover rushes up and the scene is again verdant." stations were infrequent on the line of the railway, as the country is not densely settled. the rearing of cattle and horses is the principal industry, and occasionally, as frank looked from the windows of the railway train, he saw the guachos pursuing their herds, which generally manifested an unwillingness to remain in the neighborhood of the snorting, puffing locomotive. sometimes the engine-drivers added to the fright of the half-wild animals by sounding the whistle, which rarely failed to create a stampede. they did not indulge in this amusement if the guachos were in sight, as the latter are not friendly to the railway, and would greatly prefer the old state of affairs. naturally they resent the frightening of their herds, and the engine-driver who deliberately blows the whistle and alarms horses or cattle is liable to be roughly handled whenever the guachos can lay hold of him. some of the stations were the abiding-places of the guachos, and frank embraced an opportunity to see the life of these denizens of the pampas. the result of his observation coincided with that of lieutenant strain, and he had no desire to remain among them. [illustration: arrival of travellers at a guacho village.] many of the guachos are descended from the best blood of spain, and in spite of their rough ways they frequently display a great deal of courtly dignity. they salute each other with much formality, remove their hats on entering a house, are always polite to strangers passing through their country, though often quite the reverse to those who come to settle among them. their houses are generally mud hovels of but a single room; beds and chairs are unknown, as the guachos and their families sleep and sit on the floor along with the dogs, which are generally quite numerous. sometimes the skeleton of a horse's head is used in place of a chair, and the traveller is always bowed to it as though it were a velvet-covered fauteuil. few of the guachos can read or write, and evidently they do not place a high regard upon education. for the first year of his life the guacho has no clothing whatever; he crawls around in the dirt, of which there is an abundance, as the floor is rarely swept, or he is hung to the rafters or the wall of the hovel, in a basket made of a bullock's hide. when he can walk he is provided with a lasso and practises upon dogs and chickens; when four or five years old he is put on horseback, and by his sixth year he has become useful in assisting with the cattle and horses. his lasso practice continues, and it is no wonder that he is proficient with it; throwing the lasso and bolas and riding on horseback complete his schooling, college course and all. he goes out alone, often for days together, and hunts for whatever game the country produces. meat and water comprise his entire bill of fare, and with this simple diet and constant exposure he becomes toughened in all his muscles and capable of enduring any amount of fatigue. guachos have been known to pass thirty or forty hours continuously in the saddle; on long journeys they generally drive a herd of horses before them; when they have wearied out a horse under the saddle they lasso a fresh one from the herd and mount him immediately. a guacho considers it a disgrace to be on foot, and will not walk a hundred yards if a horse is available. frank was amused, at one of the stations, at seeing a man come out of a house, mount his steed, and ride to another house certainly not fifty yards distant. there he sprang to the ground again and entered the building, without the least thought that he had done anything absurd. in most countries he would have saved himself the trouble of springing into the saddle for a ride of such brevity, but not so the guacho. frank said afterwards that he was reminded of a certain city in the united states where it is considered improper and undignified to cross a street anywhere except at the corners of the blocks. the most important town on the line of the railway is san luis, or, to give its full name, san luis de la punta. it has a population of six or eight thousand, and is beautifully situated at an elevation of about twenty-five hundred feet above the level of the sea. it was founded by luis loyola in , and has a considerable trade in hides, wool, skins, leather, and a few other things of less importance. frank observed that nearly all the houses were one story in height, built of adobes or sun-dried brick, with earthen or tiled floors, and generally attached to a garden. since the recent emigration from europe began a good many germans and italians have settled at san luis, and there are several scotch and irish herders living in the neighborhood. [illustration: a dance at san luis de la punta.] frank was invited to stop a day and attend a _tertulia_ or dance, but he declined the honor. the dances at san luis are noticeable more for their vigor than their refinement. the guitar is usually the musical instrument for the occasion, and the dancers whirl rapidly around the room, with very little attempt to keep step, as the shouts and laughter of the assemblage frequently render the music quite inaudible. on arriving at mendoza frank was met at the station by manuel, who led the way to the _fonda_ where he had secured a room for his young master. he had succeeded in making the needed arrangements for the journey over the andes, though not without some difficulty. the proprietor of the fonda had recognized the advantage of keeping his patrons as long as possible, and interposed various hinderances to their prompt exit; fortunately, manuel had brought a letter from a german shop-keeper at buenos ayres to a german shop-keeper in mendoza, and thus was enabled to expedite matters. mules and their drivers had been engaged for the ride over the andes to the terminus of the railway near santa rosa; they were drawn up in the court-yard of the shop-keeper soon after frank's arrival, and, after being approved by him, were immediately despatched to the foot of the mountains, about forty miles distant. frank then took a ride through the streets of mendoza, and viewed the lions of the place. they were neither many nor great, as the city was almost completely destroyed by an earthquake in , when several thousands of the inhabitants perished. traces of the devastation are still visible, but the town has been steadily recovering from the calamity, and is quite prosperous. frank was impressed with the long rows of poplars, which shaded the streets and grew close to the walls of the numerous gardens. the poplars are so abundant that as one approaches mendoza he rarely sees anything of it until within its limits; the poplars conceal the city in every direction, and their shade is welcome to everybody in the hot hours of the day. there are many fruit gardens in and near mendoza. the place is surrounded by canals, and there is one canal which passes through the city and supplies an abundance of water. mendoza was long celebrated for its fruits, and formerly large quantities of peaches, grapes, cherries, and kindred things were dried here for transportation to market. since the opening of the railway several fruit-preserving establishments have been started, and are doing a prosperous business. the city is the capital of the province of the same name. the province of mendoza has an area of sixty-five thousand square miles, and about seventy thousand inhabitants, or a little more than one inhabitant to the square mile. the state of education may be known by the fact that more than fifty-five thousand of the inhabitants cannot read or write, and out of , children, between six and twelve years of age, in a given year, only attended school! most of the province is a plain; the greater part of this plain is fertile, but there are districts in the south where the herbage is too scanty for the support of cattle. its western part includes a portion of the chain of the andes; aconcagua, the highest of the andean peaks, is on the border of this province, and near it are several other mountains of great height and magnificence. frank had no desire to tarry in mendoza after completing his arrangements for leaving. the fonda was dirty beyond description, in fact, frank declared that in all his experience he had never seen a hotel which surpassed it in untidiness. manuel had swept the room previous to frank's arrival, and with great difficulty obtained the materials for a civilized bed. the place abounded in fleas, which have their advantages in conducing to early rising; our young friend was up before daybreak, and told manuel to get things in readiness for leaving town as soon as possible. [illustration: the police-office at mendoza.] it was necessary to have a passport for the frontier between chili and the argentine republic, and accordingly they paid a visit to the police-office, accompanied by their german friend. frank presented the necessary papers, which he obtained at buenos ayres, and there could be no reason for his detention; but it took fully half an hour to convince the police-master that no harm would come to either country by allowing the youth and his servant to pass into chili. tourists are so rare in this part of the world that the authorities cannot easily believe a man will undertake the hardships of a journey over the andes, when he has nothing to gain by it and considerable money to pay out. looking upon travel as purely a matter of business, they are quite in sympathy with the chinese merchant who was invited to an english dancing-party, and wonderingly asked his host, "can't you get your servants to do that for you?" in a light wagon, hired for the ride to the foot of the mountains, where the mules were waiting, frank set out, accompanied by manuel, who was seated at the driver's side and had a special eye for the baggage, that lay below him. the wagon was the property of an enterprising citizen, who had imported it from the united states since the opening of the railway, and he was contemplating a purchase of half a dozen similar vehicles during the following year. it had stout springs, and was well adapted to the roads around mendoza, which are none of the best. frank was given the choice of this wagon or a _birlocha_, and immediately chose the former. and what do you suppose a birlocha is? [illustration: the birlocha.] it resembles an old-fashioned chaise, and is drawn by two horses, one between the shafts and one outside (on the left side), and fastened by a single trace of rawhide or half-tanned leather. the driver is mounted on the outside horse, and there are seats over the wheels for two passengers. in hilly country a man follows with a third horse, which is attached to the right side of the vehicle when a steep slope is to be ascended. frank took a ride through the streets of mendoza in one of these vehicles, enough to satisfy himself that the wagon was preferable for the drive across the plain between the city and the foot of the mountains. had he been in the hilly region he would have chosen the birlocha, for its greater facility in turning sharp corners. [illustration: the pampa coach.] just outside the walls they met a pampa coach containing two passengers, who were evidently travelling in style. the vehicle was a huge and clumsy affair, the rough roads of the country requiring that it should be very strongly constructed. it was drawn by four horses, and each horse carried a postilion, who was armed with a short whip or a bundle of stout thongs of rawhide. as they approached this nondescript concern its horses took fright at the apparition of the wagon, and reared and plunged in a way that greatly interfered with their linear progress along the road. when the postilions had lashed them into good behavior they darted off at full gallop, and were soon inside the fringe of poplars that surrounds the city. before the railway was constructed, this style of carriage was employed on the pampas for those who could afford the expense and risk of coach and postilions. a passenger could carry an unlimited amount of baggage with the coach, and take his own time for it; by arranging for relays he could make very good time, but could not equal the speed of the government couriers, who went on horseback and made quick changes at the stations. when the indians are troublesome the coach is objectionable, on account of the increased danger arising from its use. it is obliged to follow the road, where it often raises such a cloud of dust as to indicate its locality and character to watchful indians miles and miles away. while in the region of indians, mounted horsemen always keep on the grass at the side of the road, and thus avoid making a dust-cloud. then, too, the coach, with its baggage and the iron of its wheels, is a valuable prize to a people with whom iron is a scarce commodity. [illustration: ox-carts near mendoza.] they met groups of guachos and other inhabitants of the country on their way to mendoza, everybody, without exception, being mounted on horse or mule, or riding in a cart. the carts were the same rude affairs with which frank was already familiar; the wheels consisting of single trucks or sections cut from logs, four or five feet in diameter. a hole in the centre of the truck admits the axle; there is no tire on the truck, and when it is worn too small it is thrown aside and a new one takes its place. the axles are never greased, and when a dozen carts are in motion across the plain the creaking is fearful. it is said the indians take advantage of this creaking to guide them to trains moving along the road in fog or darkness, and certainly it is as clearly audible as a fog-horn on the sea-coast. whether the natives have ever circumvented the savages by the simple expedient of greasing the wheels is not recorded in the local chronicles. long before frank reached mendoza, on his way from buenos ayres, he had seen the magnificent chain of the andes filling the western horizon, and from the plaza of the city it seemed as though he could almost reach the summits of the nearest peaks with a bullet from a rifle. the air is wonderfully clear and pure at mendoza, and the consequent deception regarding distances reminded our youthful traveller of his view of the himalayas from darjeeling, and of the rocky mountains from denver. he was not the first to make the same mistake in the mountains near mendoza. read the following from gerstaecker's narrative of a journey from buenos ayres to valparaiso: "one day we saw a fox approaching, and i determined to have a shot at him. master reynard came up the slope as carelessly as though he were only out for a quiet walk; judging the distance at about a hundred yards, just as he got scent of us, but appeared uncertain of the danger, i took a good and sure aim and pulled the trigger. the gun went off, but to my utter astonishment the ball struck the snow, as i plainly saw, some paces short of the fox; and reynard, discovering all was not right, scampered off, leaving me to fire with as little effect as before. "having no idea what could be the matter with the gun, i went to the place where the fox had stood, and, counting the steps in going, was surprised to find that what i had thought about a hundred yards was really two hundred and sixty! so deceptive was the pure and transparent snow as to distance. "indeed, on looking back, i saw that the spur of the mountain behind appeared not farther off than two or three miles, though i knew the distance to be much greater. then i reflected that if the sight was misled in this way by the thin air in judging the distance of objects so close, what an enormous space must lie between the mountain-ridges, which really looked so far apart, and to what a height the mighty peaks must rise, when they were so gigantic even in appearance." [illustration: coming to town.] as he approached the base of the mountains, frank found them every moment becoming more lofty in appearance, and it was not unnatural that he should begin to wonder if there was really a way of passing over them to the other side. the plain and the mountains kept his thoughts fully occupied till he reached the end of the wagon-road and halted at the little village where the mountain-path begins. [illustration: exercising the mules.] the mules and their drivers were there in advance; two of the animals were undergoing exercise in the plaza of the village, and manifesting not a little obstinacy, to the great delight of the whole population, which had turned out to witness the sport. frank was by no means elated to learn that the mule which displayed the greatest amount of "contrariness" was the one which he was to ride on the following day. chapter xxvii. incidents of a ride over the andes.--contract with the arriero.--passes between chili and the argentine republic.--night scenes.--dangers of the road.--a perilous position.--uspallata.--at the crest of the andes. it had been arranged that in consideration of eighty dollars, half in advance, and the balance on completion of the journey, il senhor don francisco bassetti (which is south american spanish for mr. frank bassett) and his servant were to be transported from mendoza to santa rosa, with their baggage, the latter not exceeding two hundred pounds in weight, exclusive of blankets and clothing. the contract was taken by one don federico, an _arriero_ who presented the most laudatory testimonials as to his efficiency and honesty. it was stipulated that federico should provide an extra saddle-mule for frank and another for manuel, to be used in case of accident, and that he and the peon who accompanied him would attend to the saddling and all the care of the beasts. federico was to provide food for the travellers similar to his own; any extra provisions they chose to carry would form part of the baggage, and be included in the allowance of two hundred pounds. the peon was to do the cooking for the party, but no objection should be made if senhor don francisco bassetti chose to employ his servant manuel in the preparation of his dinners. don federico, the arriero, proved something less than fancy and his testimonials painted him, but, considered as a whole, he was not altogether utterly depraved. his first move was to reduce the number of extra saddle-mules to one, by suggesting that it was not probable the regular mules of frank and manuel would both be disabled at once. therefore he thought one would suffice. he would have gone into a lengthy argument on the subject had he not been cut short by frank, who insisted upon the terms of the contract. next, he proposed to load the baggage on one of the extra saddle-mules, and when prevented from doing so, he suggested that it could be divided and carried behind the saddles of the travellers. evidently he was bent on reserving one mule from the stipulated number. frank and manuel met him at every point; when he found it impossible to cheat them he submitted gracefully, and afterwards conducted himself very fairly. later in the day frank learned that the arriero came from mendoza with the proper number of mules. one had become lame, and federico was obliged to hire another to replace it. instead of frankly stating his trouble, he had endeavored to "dodge" the difficulty by departing from his agreement. [illustration: a start under disadvantages.] frank obtained lodgings at the house of a german, the only european resident of the place. his bed was a pile of hides in a corner of a room full of merchandise, and the youth spent a considerable part of the night in deliberating as to whether the hides were harder or softer than the floor. don federico was anxious to start early in the morning, and frank accommodated him; he was up before daybreak, and the whole party had breakfasted and were in the saddle by sunrise. provisions for crossing the andes are limited in variety, but that they are adapted to the wants of travellers there can be no dispute. they consist of _charqui_, or jerked beef, reduced to a powder by pounding in a mortar or between two stones. it is baked or roasted before pulverization, and is therefore ready cooked. for preparing a repast of charqui, heat some water till it boils; throw in a few spoonfuls of the beef powder, one or two slices of onion, break in some bread or crackers, and let the whole simmer for ten minutes. serve hot, and you have a dish that a king might envy. "it would hardly answer for delmonico's or other fashionable restaurants," wrote frank in his note-book, "but with the appetite created by exercise and the air of the mountains i have never tasted anything more welcome than this simple preparation. it can be easily carried, is not readily spoiled, and, on the whole, is the very best thing one could have. i brought along some tins of preserved meats and vegetables; they proved acceptable, but were not at all necessary for our existence. in a bag slung at my saddle-bow i carried some crackers, and whenever hungry i proceeded to nibble one of them. charqui soup, crackers, raisins, figs, and maté comprised my bill of fare on the journey after the first day out, with the addition of the flesh of a few birds and rabbits we killed on the way." for the rest of the account of this trip over the andes we will copy from frank's journal. "according to the geographers," wrote our young friend, "there are ten passes across the andes between the argentine republic and chili; they vary from six to fifteen thousand feet above the sea-level at their highest point, and each pass has its peculiarities. the pass of los patos (the ducks) has the advantage of good pasturage all the way, and is much frequented by cattle-drivers, to whom time is no object, but the great length of the route renders it undesirable for travellers and merchandise trains. the planchon pass lies along the claro and teno rivers; it is only six thousand feet high, and has been selected as the route for the railway between the two countries. [illustration: pass of uspallata.] "the passes most used by travellers are portillo and la cumbre; the former is much travelled from the beginning of february to the end of april, and the latter from november to may. we are crossing by la cumbre, which is also known as uspallata pass; it was one of the earliest routes known to the spanish conquerors of chili and the argentine republic, and is said to have been in use for centuries before their arrival. "this pass has two roads, which are traversable at different periods, according to the state of the snow; the one generally used is , feet above the sea, while the other is , feet. at irregular intervals along the route there are _casuchas_, or refuges, which were built by the old spaniards for the protection of couriers and travellers who might be caught in snow-storms. under the spanish rule the casuchas were provided with benches or shelves on which one could sleep; there were doors that could be closed, and a supply of food and fuel was kept in each building. but since the countries became independent of the old world the doors and shelves of these houses of refuge have been burned, and the supply of provisions is not maintained. the casuchas are dirty, and so open to the wind that unless the weather is absolutely terrible it is preferable to stay outside. the traveller must rely upon himself for provisions, and if he has not a sufficient supply, in case of a long detention in the mountains, he must either starve or eat his mules. "it had been stipulated with federico that a supply of charcoal should be carried, as no fuel is obtainable on the highest parts of the mountains. lower down there are trees and shrubs sufficient for cooking purposes, and there are patches of vegetation where the animals can graze, but in the upper elevations the beasts must go hungry, unless a few rations of grain are carried for them. federico was thoughtful regarding his mules, and provided for them more liberally than do many of the arrieros. we had a good supply of blankets and other coverings for sleeping purposes; the weather was fine, and there was a good prospect that we should be in santa rosa on the fifth day from setting out on our mountain ride. "among the people that gathered to witness our departure there were several afflicted with goitre, or swelling of the glands of the neck. i saw many cases of this disease in mendoza, and at different points along the road; to all appearances it is identical with the goitre one sees in switzerland, and its origin is as mysterious here as in the old world. federico said that nine tenths of the victims were women; he added that few of them objected to it, as it was 'excellent for displaying jewelry.' [illustration: near the base of the andes.] "we rode out from the little village in as much 'style' as we could command, in spite of the restiveness of the mules, and their tendency to use their heels whenever an opportunity was afforded. federico said they would get over it in a little while, but for the present we must put up with their eccentricities. before starting we witnessed the performance of a young colt which had been taken in tow by the arriero of a party bound for mendoza; it surpassed any of our mules in its kicking propensities, and i was satisfied that our beasts were by no means the worst behaved in the country. "almost immediately after leaving the village we struck into the valley of a river flowing from the mountains, and from this point our road was almost a continuous ascent. up and up we climbed, passing two or three mining establishments, apparently abandoned, and an occasional hut whose occupant sold food and forage to the mule trains, and took advantage of the little patches of grass near his residence. after several hours of this kind of work along zigzag paths we reached the highest point of the uspallata range, and halted to give our animals a breathing-spell, and to observe the scenery. "this spot is called 'el paramillo,' and the view it affords is magnificent. to the eastward the plain and the intervening hills were spread like a map before us, and we could trace the course of the rivers and ravines for many and many a mile. north and south and west were the andes; their great peaks seemed to pierce the sky, and their caps of purest snow reflected in almost blinding clearness the rays of the sun. though we had gained an elevation of thousands of feet, the mountains towered far above us, and i realized more than ever before the awful grandeur of the andes. below and around us were yawning chasms, and as federico pointed out the route by which we were to continue it seemed as though an eternal barrier stood between us and the opposite side of the great chain of the andes. [illustration: a dangerous road in the mountains.] "from the crest of this ridge we proceeded over a table-land and along a gentle descent for about fifteen miles, till we reached the rancheria of uspallata, where we passed the night. it consists of a series of adobe houses built around a court-yard; several of these houses are divided into rooms for the accommodation of travellers, and as soon as manuel could secure one of them it was delivered into our custody. it was the eastern khan or caravansary over again, and i fancy that the idea must have been brought from spain by the early settlers, and originally obtained from the moors during their residence in the peninsula. "my room contained a chair and a table, but no other furniture. on one side there was a shelf of adobes four feet wide and two feet above the floor, which was intended for a bed, but there was not even a rawhide upon it. i was expected to supply my own bedding, and with the aid of my overcoat, blankets, saddle, and saddle-gear, i had a very comfortable couch under the circumstances. i was too weary to be particular, and, five minutes after lying down, was oblivious to all outward things. [illustration: peons at rest.] "manuel piled our personal belongings in one corner of the room, and slept on the floor near them. our mules were turned into the clover-fields which surround the buildings, and afford good pasturage for cattle and mule trains. federico told me he was obliged to pay a sum equal to about twenty cents of our currency for each animal; he and his men had all the work of collecting and managing their beasts, and the proprietors had nothing to do except to collect the money. they must make a fine revenue from the place, as each room yields a dollar a night when occupied, and everybody is or has his own servant. but perhaps they are so heavily taxed by the government that their profits are materially reduced. the governments in this part of the world do not permit a private citizen to make money rapidly except in rare instances. "we obtained beef and eggs and a loaf of bread for supper, so that we were not obliged to draw upon our mountain provisions. manuel made an excellent omelette from the eggs; he cut the beef into small pieces, through which a long stick was thrust, and then held the meat over a fire until thoroughly cooked. i opened a can of oysters that i brought from buenos ayres, and prepared a savory stew in a kettle borrowed from the kitchen of the rancheria. oysters, fresh beef, bread, maté, and the hunger of a famished wolf! what more could be required for an excellent meal? "in the morning we had breakfast (identical with the supper, but without the oysters), and were ready for the road at an early hour. when i went into the court-yard of the rancheria there were at least a hundred mules, all mixed up in the wildest confusion. there were half a dozen trains, some bound east, and the others west; the arrieros and their peons were busy saddling their animals, and as soon as one had received his cargo he was allowed to wander among the herd at will. there was a chorus of braying which surpassed a chinese band of music or the noise of a boiler factory, and the lack of accord was emphasized by vigorous kicks on the part of the animals. how i wished to photograph the scene, and phonograph it too, at the same time! "i wondered how it would be possible to separate the animals of the different trains, but soon found out. "as each arriero completed his saddling he led out his _madrina_, or bell-mare, and tinkled her bell. instantly his mules followed her, separating themselves from the rest of the herd without the least difficulty. federico told me it is the bell rather than the mare which forms the attraction, as the mules will follow the bell on a strange mare but will not follow their madrina with another bell. when the mules are turned out to graze they always keep near the madrina, and their manifestations of devotion to her are constant. when she is in danger they have been known to form a circle about her and, with heels outward, make a vigorous defence. "my saddle-mule was a perfect 'amadrinado,' in the language of the arrieros, or thoroughly trained to follow the madrina's bell. if i fell behind the train at any time, and especially if the bell could not be heard, the beast became restive, and was evidently much alarmed. if i dismounted, for even a minute, it was necessary to keep a strong hold of the bridle, and there would generally be so much kicking and plunging that i needed the aid of the arriero or a peon to mount again. "the table-land of uspallata continues for eight or ten miles, till the valley of the pichiuta river is reached. we ascended this valley, for several miles and then turned across an intervening ridge to the mendoza river; the pichiuta is a clear, sparkling stream of excellent water, and there is plenty of pasturage and fuel along its banks, while the water of the mendoza is muddy and has a brackish taste. [illustration: a mountain caÑon.] "here let me remark that there is a wonderful difference between the rivers of the eastern and western slopes of this part of the chain of the andes. on the chilian side the streams are nearly all clear and pure, while on the argentine side they are mostly muddy, and so impregnated with salt and lime as to be unfit for drinking or cooking purposes. the banks of the small streams are nearly always covered with an incrustation of impure saltpetre, and sometimes the water is so bad that cattle are poisoned by it. "on the ridge between the two rivers we had our first real dangers of mountain travelling. there are several _laderas_, or places where the road is cut into the side of a mountain, and so narrow that two loaded mules cannot pass. there are spaces where the path is widened a little, and it is customary for trains, moving in opposite directions, to watch for each other and avoid meeting in the narrow and most dangerous spots. "one of our baggage-mules was ahead, and right in one of the laderas he met a train coming the other way. i feared he would be thrown from the path into the great chasm, a thousand feet below, and you may be sure my face was full of anxiety. "to my surprise and delight the mule planted his four feet close together, and turned around in a space not more than a yard wide! then he trotted back to join us, and i wanted to get down and hug him for his display of intelligence. "federico told me to allow everything to my mule, and under no circumstances attempt to guide it in a dangerous spot. 'the mule knows every ladera on the mountains,' said he, 'and exactly where to place its feet. never hurry it in the least, and never touch the reins no matter how much you are tempted to do so.' "this was good advice, and i remembered it, at any rate, most of the time. once i forgot myself when the mule stumbled on a ladera, and for a few seconds was balanced on one foot on the edge of a fearful abyss. the side of the mountain was almost perpendicular for five or six hundred feet below me, and there was a wild torrent dashing along its base. instinctively i threw out my hands to grasp the reins. federico was just behind, and shouted for me to sit still; his voice recalled what he had told me, and my hands dropped to my side as though i had lost all strength. one foot of the mule actually went over the edge of the rock, but the other held its position, and i was safe! [illustration: snow-slide on the trail.] "one of the perils of the road are the snow-slides. masses of snow accumulate on the slopes of the mountains, and suddenly, without a moment's warning, sweep downward into the valley below. men and animals on any part of the trail crossed by the avalanche are carried along with it; sometimes they are crushed to death and buried far out of sight, and sometimes they escape without serious injury. generally, however, the snow-slides are fatal to those who happen to be caught in them, and the arrieros naturally hold them in great dread. "i think i hear some one asking why i did not get off and walk in the perilous places. the arrieros say it is more dangerous to walk than to ride, and certainly they ought to know. in the first place, i was ignorant of the road, and that is a very important consideration; and, secondly, the mule is accustomed to this kind of travel and i am not. he never takes a step without determining beforehand exactly where his feet are to be planted, and not until one foot is firmly in position does he venture to lift another. besides, he has twice as many feet as i have, and, therefore, should be doubly sure-footed. [illustration: hanging bridge in the andes.] "some of the torrents have been spanned with rope-bridges, which are secure enough, but very shaky. the mules hesitate to cross these structures, but they generally do so after a great deal of persuasion, which is mostly physical. "the second night of our mountain journey was spent at the 'casucha de las puquios,' at the edge of a marsh where there was fairly good pasturage for our weary animals. we had a supper of charqui soup, made in the manner i have described, together with a partridge and a rabbit broiled over the coals. the rabbit was shot within a hundred yards of our camp, and the partridge about a couple of hours before we reached it. game is not abundant in this region; rabbits, partridges, guanaco, and foxes are the principal products of the chase around uspallata, and federico says he has frequently made the journey without seeing a single wild bird or beast. "not long after our arrival a train of twenty mules came in from the westward and camped close to us. the drivers fraternized with our men and joined them at supper, and there was a general exchange of information concerning the condition of the roads. there is universal hospitality among the arrieros, and when one party meets another there is an immediate proffer of food, cigarettes, or anything else that may possibly be wanted. every time we met a train the arrieros would stop to chat a few moments, and then, with an '_adios!_' and a graceful wave of the hand, hurried on to overtake their charges. "soon after starting the next morning we passed 'the inca's bridge,' a natural causeway over a stream which flows about forty feet below it. the bridge is sixty feet long and averages about the same in width; and mr. darwin thinks it was formed by the river breaking through underneath. lieutenant macrae, of the united states navy, made a careful examination, and thinks it was formed by the concretion of the water from several calcareous springs in the hillside, which went on forming shelf after shelf till they reached across. on a shelf under the bridge there are two warm springs which have been hollowed out into baths. i tried the temperature, and found it ° fahrenheit; i wanted to take a bath in one of the springs, but was fearful of catching cold after immersion in the warm water. [illustration: deep chasm in the mountains.] "the arrieros do not wash their hands or faces from the beginning to the end of a journey; i had been strongly advised to follow their example, and was warned that i would suffer if i did otherwise. i dipped my hands in the warm water, and then yielded to the temptation to wash them; i was paid for my rashness by one of the worst cases of chapped hands i ever experienced. i retained the impurity of my face, and on reaching santa rosa my complexion was darker than that of any of my peons, and soiled enough for a street gamin of new york. "from the inca's bridge we ascended the valley of the cuevos river for some distance, and then began a steep ascent. it was a steady struggle, and as we rose higher and higher i could see it was very trying to the strength of our mules. they panted for breath, and after a few minutes' exertion it was necessary for them to take a rest of nearly equal length. at mendoza, and also in the lower country and on the table-land, i had observed that the arrieros and peons were very cruel to their animals, belaboring them severely for their insubordination, and calling them a great many hard names. but in the dangerous parts of the journey the whole state of affairs was changed. the mules were docile, and quite the reverse of obstinate, while the drivers were models of gentleness. they used neither whip nor spur, but spoke softly, and permitted the animals to suit themselves in going on or resting. for a good deal of the way our advance was very slow. "we stopped frequently, for five or ten minutes at a time; at noon we halted for an hour where there were a few shrubs on which the mules could nibble, but nothing which would make a satisfactory meal. we passed the night--the third of the journey--in a casucha, which federico said was two thousand feet below the summit of the pass. the wind blew fiercely, and made the casucha, doorless though it was, preferable to the open air. i ordered the peons to clear it of dust and rubbish, and we spread our beds on the floor; we got along fairly well, and were up early enough to be off as soon as daylight permitted us to see the road. it wasn't a place for late sleeping, and a snow-squall that came on during the night added to our discomfort. it was only a squall though, not a storm, and did no real harm. [illustration: a victim of the storm.] "near our camping-place there were many skulls and skeletons of cattle; federico said they were the remains of a large drove which were caught in a storm and perished here on their way to chili. the great perils of the mountain passage are in the snow-storms, which sometimes detain the traveller for weeks in one spot. they rise suddenly, and the experienced mountaineers cannot be tempted to venture out when such storms are liable to come. "from here to the summit the road was like a series of zigzags directly up the side of the mountain. it was trying to the nerves to look down, and i soon found the best thing was to fix my gaze on the top of the mountain, or to the first visible angle of the path above me, and keep it there. at times we ascended at an angle of forty degrees, and i am not sure but that it was sometimes forty-five or fifty degrees. certainly i have never climbed a steeper road, and never want to do so. "hurrah! here we are at the top. we can toss a stone into chili with one hand and into the argentine republic with the other. we are more than two miles in the air, and as we look away to the westward we can see the dark mass of the pacific ocean forming the curving rim of the horizon. "we are at the crest of the andes, and the south american continent is at our feet." [illustration: a chilian ox-cart.] chapter xxviii. down the western slope of the andes.--a long imprisonment in the snow.--"the soldier's leap."--santa rosa.--santiago.--arrival at valparaiso. [illustration: the condor.] several condors were wheeling in the air above the little party, but, besides these huge birds of the mountains, there were no visible signs of animal life. in the last half-hour of the ascent frank had felt the effect of the rarefied atmosphere of his great elevation. he breathed with difficulty, and as he took the air into his lungs its lightness was very unsatisfying. there seemed to be a heavy pressure upon his chest, and several times a faintness came over him which threatened to end in unconsciousness. he tried to think of other things, and in this way preserved his senses, and kept from falling out of the saddle. but if the youth suffered from the rarity of the atmosphere while making no exertions, what must it have been with the animal he rode? the breath of the mule came quick and fast, and was expelled from the nostrils with a loud sound; the animal could hardly take a dozen steps without halting to rest; and it was the same with all the other beasts of the train. frank declared afterwards that he never witnessed a more notable instance of patience and perseverance on the part of the much-derided hybrid than in that ride over the andes. he forgave the animal for his eccentricities and insubordination near mendoza, and promised never again to despise a mule. before beginning the descent it was necessary to make a careful adjustment of the saddles, to prevent their slipping forward, as the road is quite as steep as the one up which they had just been climbing. every strap was tightened and fastened, and when all was ready, and the mules had fully recovered their breathing powers, the column began its march into chili. "down, down we went," wrote frank in his journal, "along a series of zigzags cut into the steep slope of the mountain at an angle of nearly forty-five degrees. the vast area before us, bordered by the distant ocean, was broken into mountains and valleys, dotted with forests and stretches of open country, sprinkled with towns and villages, and seamed and streaked with the tortuous paths of rivers which have their sources on the sides of the andes, and are fed from the melting snows. the contemplation of such an expanse of the world's surface lying at my feet told more plainly than my sufferings with the rarefied air the great elevation i had attained. i was at a height of more than two miles, and the summits of mountains that would be considered lofty almost anywhere else were far below me. the ocean seemed near and far; its horizon appeared at an almost limitless distance, and at the same time i could half believe that a stone thrown from my hand would fall on the shore. "we halted at the first hut, and remained an hour for lunch and rest. while we were waiting, federico told me how he was once caught at this very casucha in a _temporale_, or snow-storm. "it was rather late in the autumn, and he was going alone from mendoza to santa rosa, having been hired by a merchant of the former place to take an important message over the mountains. he had passed the summit in safety, and reached this casucha just at sunset, when he saw a temporale sweeping down from the north. he dismounted in front of the casucha, and just as he had loosened his saddle and thrown it to the ground the mule sprang from him, dashed down the path, and was out of sight in a moment. the storm came, and he entered the building for safety; he afterwards ascertained that the mule tumbled over a precipice, and was killed by the fall into the chasm below. [illustration: travelling in the snow.] "all night the snow whirled around the little dwelling, and in the morning the drifts reached to the top of the doorway. road, cliff, and chasm were obliterated, and it would have been certain death to go on. there he remained day after day; the storm continued, and was so violent that, for much of the time, he could not see a dozen yards away. the hut was without a door, the cold was intense, and his little store of charcoal was of no use to give warmth to the wind-swept building. "he was threatened with death by starvation, as his stock of provisions was small. he ate as little as possible consistent with supporting life; hour after hour he sat and gazed at his possessions, wondering whether they would hold out until he could venture to descend from his mountain prison. on the seventeenth day the last mouthful was consumed, and on the morning of the eighteenth he had the option of dying for want of food or risking his life among the cliffs and chasms which lay beneath him and the wide stretch of forest and fertile land visible below. [illustration: a natural highway.] "enfeebled by his privations and trembling with the cold, he crawled from the hut and began the perilous descent. slowly he crept forward, feeling with a stick every foot of the path, hugging closely against the cliff, standing sometimes on the edge of precipices, where another inch would have carried him sheer downwards for thousands of feet, cutting a pathway through the drifts, picking his way over streams covered with ice that threatened to crumble beneath him, fainting at times from loss of strength, and lying helpless for minutes which seemed like hours. he finally passed below the snow-line and reached the smiling valley, where he found relief. [illustration: cutting steps along the mountain.] "he tells me that once during this journey he actually slipped over the edge of a precipice, but caught with his hands on the rock, and saved himself from death. i drew the story from him with considerable difficulty, and his face was ashy pale as he narrated his experiences in those dreadful eighteen days. since that time no amount of money could tempt him to venture over the mountains in the season when the temporales may be expected." "we halted for the night," continued frank, "at a hut called guarda vieja, or 'old guard,' where we found scanty herbage for the mules and poor shelter for ourselves. the animals were fed with the last ration of grain that had been brought for their use. federico said there was no further need to keep it, as the next forenoon would take us to an abundance of food for man and beast. we supped heartily, and rejoiced to think we should sleep the next night in santa rosa, unless prevented by accident. "near this place was the scene of one of the battles in the struggle which made chili independent of the mother country. revolutionists, under general san martin, crossed the mountains from the argentine side, and were exhausted with the fatigue of their long march and privations, while the spaniards were fresh, and had a good position. the battle resulted in the defeat of the spaniards, notwithstanding the advantages in their favor. "descending from this point, we found the road in some places a mere shelf on the side of the mountain, hanging over a furious torrent that rushes along far below. in one place the sides of the chasm are not more than fifteen feet apart; this spot is called 'the soldier's leap,' and the tradition is that, in the battle i have just mentioned, one of the spanish soldiers escaped from his enemies by springing from one cliff to the other. "at one place we crossed a chasm by a suspension bridge that shook beneath us at every step. when the wind blows up the valley the bridge sways so much that its passage is absolutely dangerous, and the traveller must wait till the blast is over. there was just a gentle breeze when we arrived, and federico said it was safe enough to venture across, but we must be careful where we placed our feet. [illustration: bridge of the apurimac.] "it was almost identical with the bridge of the apurimac, described by mr. squier in his work on peru, as it was constructed of the same materials, and was about one hundred and fifty feet wide. there were four cables--two of twisted withes of a very tough and flexible plant, and two of braided rawhide. the latter were smaller than the others, and served partly for supports and partly to prevent a passenger from going over the side. the floor is of sticks and canes laid transversely, and also parallel with the length of the bridge, so that it looks like a sort of very coarse matting. [illustration: looking across the bridge.] "i got down and walked over the bridge, partly through federico's advice, but largely from my own inclination. i was uncertain what the mule might take into his head to accomplish during the transit, and did not regard it a good place for experiments. but the mules really behaved admirably; nothing could exceed their docility, and the most antiquated cart-horse was never more demure than they. a mule knows pretty well when and where to indulge in hilarity; he realizes that a swaying bridge a hundred feet above a mountain torrent is not to be used as a quadrupedal dancing-hall. "turning a bend of the road beyond this bridge, we saw, far up a gorge, a stream that came out of a cavern, like an enormous spring. this is the one mentioned by lieutenant strain as having its source in the 'lago encantada,' or enchanted lake, more than a mile away. it was a mystery for a long time to the indians, and a puzzle to several scientific visitors, what became of the water that flowed into the lake, as it had no apparent outlet. there was evidently a complete closing of the gorge which formerly drained the lake, by the fall of a vast mass of earth and rock, through the action of an earthquake; the water forced a subterranean passage and the mystery was explained. the indians regard with awe everything they do not understand, and therefore concluded that the removal of the water was due to supernatural agencies. [illustration: by the roadside.] "we soon entered a cultivated region, where the warm air was a pleasant relief to the chilliness of the upper elevations of the mountains. the descents were rapid, but no longer perilous, the bridges more substantial, and the roads wider. grass and trees abounded; farms and farm-houses dotted the country; signs of population were everywhere evident; and the perils of our travels among the snow were things of the past. the houses grew into villages, and finally, just at sunset of the fifth day of our journey, we drew up in front of the posada at santa rosa and made our last descent from the patient and weary mules. "santa rosa is a long and rather straggling town with about five thousand inhabitants; like most spanish-american towns, it has a large plaza, where the principal business is centred. a noticeable feature of the place is the stream of pure water, from the mountains, flowing in nearly every street; it comes from the melting snows of the andes, and the supply is unfailing. the plaza was thronged with people when we arrived, and some of them looked curiously at the stranger within the gates. there was not the least sign of rudeness, but, on the contrary, an air of politeness which one does not always find in such an out-of-the-way spot as this. [illustration: court-yard of the posada.] "the lodgings of the posada were passable and endurable; they were excellent by comparison with the casuchas and open air of the mountains, but when contrasted with a good hotel, in a civilized land, they did not amount to much. manuel found me a room which had a bed in it, and also a table and two rickety chairs. the bed was a rawhide stretched across a frame, when green, and then allowed to dry, so that it seemed quite as hard as a pine floor, if not harder. on the rawhide lay a thin mattress filled with straw; there was a pair of sheets on the bed, but no pillows, and i sent manuel in search of some. "he returned with the announcement that all the pillows in the house were engaged, but i could have some the next night if i spoke for them at once. as i was to leave in the morning i declined the engagement, and used my overcoat and one of my blankets on which to rest my head during the night. "at dinner we said farewell to charqui, as the meal consisted of fresh beef stewed with onions and potatoes, with an abundance of _chili colorado_ (red peppers), followed by one of those mysterious compounds known as a spanish omelette. bread was fresh from the oven, and, though dark and tough, it was not to be despised; during and after dinner the maté-pot was produced, and i drank freely of the refreshing beverage. i slept soundly in spite of dreams of home, mendoza, the andes, the pampas, the amazon, fred and the doctor, and all sorts of things at once. it was a relief to wake and know exactly where i was. "before going to bed i settled with federico, giving the balance of what was due him, and making a small present in addition. the train was to leave at eight o'clock; manuel called me at six, in time for breakfast, and with plenty of leisure to reach the station before the advertised hour. [illustration: a pedler of forage.] "truth compels me to add that i saw little of the country between santa rosa and santiago, as i intrusted my ticket to manuel and slept nearly all the way. i have an indistinct recollection of glimpses of fig and orange orchards, farm-houses and villages, vineyards and wheat-fields, level plains interspersed with rolling or hilly country, and above all the towering peaks of the andes, and the lower summits of the cordillera. i do not wonder that i slept, as i had a good deal of fatigue to make up for. "santiago, the capital of chili, with its population of two hundred and odd thousand, seemed to me like a return to paris or new york. here is a city with broad and regular streets, lighted with gas, lined with spacious sidewalks, and equipped with horse-railways; with great squares ornamented with fountains and statues; with hospitals, schools, asylums, and other public edifices by the dozen and almost by the hundred; with a great cathedral; with handsome bridges over the river that supplies it with water; with banks, commercial houses, post and telegraph offices, insurance companies and other paraphernalia of trade; with a public library of forty thousand volumes and many rare manuscripts; in a word, with all the attributes of a great city. from the railway station i went directly to the hotel, and was welcomed with so much politeness by the proprietor that i was almost ready to exclaim with shenstone: "whoe'er has travell'd life's dull round, where'er its stages may have been, must sigh to think he still has found the warmest welcome at an inn." [illustration: the alameda.] "the alameda, or promenade, is beautifully shaded, and a favorite resort of the population. most of the dwellings are low, on account of earthquakes, but they are surrounded by spacious court-yards and furnished with great liberality. the city seems to exist in spite of disadvantages. it has had numerous earthquakes, many of them disastrous, in the period covered by its history, and on several occasions it has suffered from inundations. but it has a delightful climate, the thermometer averaging ° in summer and ° in winter, so that it is never very warm nor very cold. heavy and frequent rains fall in winter, and any one who is not fond of rain should not come here in that season. "aside from the earthquakes, and also the wars in which santiago has suffered, one of the most tragic days it has ever known was the th of december, . on that day three thousand people, mostly women, were in the church of la campania; a cry of fire was raised, and there was a rush for the outer air. the doors opened inwardly; the assemblage pressed against them, and no persuasion could induce them to fall back and allow the doors to be swung on their hinges. panic-stricken, they crowded forward; the fire increased; suffocating smoke filled the place; and two thirds of that three thousand were burned, trampled, or smothered to death. the memory of that terrible day is still fresh in the minds of the people, and will be long preserved. "i rode past the church where this calamity occurred, but did not care to enter it, as there was nothing interesting in its architecture, and i have no feeling of morbid curiosity. i was more interested in the streets and the houses, the long rows of tall poplars that lined the streets, and the flower-gardens visible at almost every step. the poplar was introduced from mendoza; the inhabitants say that along with the poplar came the goitre, as not a case of the disease was known until the exotic shade-trees were planted and began their growth in their new home. [illustration: a street scene.] "in the middle hours of the day i found the streets almost deserted, but they are busy enough in the morning and towards sunset. daybreak brings a crowd of peons from the country with vegetables, fruit, chickens, milk, and other edibles for sale; their shouting is loud and continuous, as they cry their wares from house to house or walk up and down the market-places. a great quantity of freshly cut _alfalfa_ (a variety of clover) is brought from the country and sold for feeding stock. it is piled on the back of mule or horse so that the animal is completely covered; you might easily imagine yourself looking at a haycock which had suddenly acquired the power of locomotion. there are droves of pack-mules; trains of carts with their wheels cut from a log, and creaking as if in dire distress; priests in sombre black, and men and women in variegated garments, all combining to form an animated picture. as the sun rises above the andes and ascends in the heavens the crowd thins away, and long before noon there is an almost painful air of stillness over the whole scene. "santiago lies in a valley between two ranges of the andes chain, and about eighteen hundred feet above the level of the sea. consequently it has both sunrise and sunset over the mountains; the former on the great range and the latter over the western cordillera. there is an interesting period of the sunset--beginning when the city first comes under the shadow of the western mountains, and ending when the last rays leave the snow-capped mountain peaks in the east. the colors of the rainbow are perceptible in a sunset under favorable conditions; the tints change with the shadow, and we have yellow, vermilion, violet, green, purple, and other hues, in succession and combination, closing with a bright blaze and halo from the crests of the mountains. the last light of day comes reflected from these mountains in the east, and not from the west, where we are accustomed to see it in other cities and in other parts of the globe. nature seems to be reversed in this most southerly capital of the continent. "i found the markets not unlike those of lima. the products of two zones are attainable in this andean situation, though there are fewer tropical fruits and vegetables than in the capital of peru. there are strawberries, grapes, figs, peaches, pears, quinces, apples, nectarines, cherries, apricots, plums, oranges, lemons, citrons, and chirimoyas--the latter far inferior to those of lima. the fruits mostly in demand and largely consumed are water-melons and musk-melons; both are delicious, and grow to a great size, and they are as cheap as they are good. "but i fear i shall weary you with this description of the city, and, besides, i must be moving to valparaiso to meet the steamer bringing dr. bronson and fred. the time-table says the voyage occupies twelve days; it is now ten days since i saw them leave buenos ayres, and to-morrow will be the eleventh day. to-morrow i will go to valparaiso by the railway; it is a ride of four hours, or perhaps five, if the train is not in a hurry, and then i can get everything in readiness to welcome them to the soil of chili." frank went by the train the next morning, and soon after noon he arrived at the seaport. he found a bustling, active city, with a population of more than one hundred thousand, of whom less than three fourths were native chilians. according to the statistics valparaiso contains , german inhabitants, british, french, italians, and americans, and a great deal more than half its commerce is in foreign hands. the city is on a bay which opens towards the north so capaciously that it was formerly swept by all winds from between north-northeast and west-northwest; ships anchored with springs on their cables, and were ready to put to sea at any moment to avoid the chance of being driven on shore. a mole, which was incomplete at the time of frank's visit, gives more security, and when finished will make a fairly good harbor for valparaiso. the name of the city indicates "vale of paradise," but frank was unable to see where the appearances justified such a pleasing title. the bay is bordered by rugged hills, that, for more than half of the distance around the semicircular beach, leave only room enough for a single row of houses near the water. the fronts of some of these hills are so steep that you may almost step to them from the back windows of the upper stories of the dwellings. facing the other half of the bay is a triangular plain of sand, formed by the _débris_ of the streams flowing from the hills, and the washings of the surf on the shore. the city is built on this sand, along the narrow beach, and up the sides and over the tops of the hills. it forcibly suggests a struggle for position where nature is in a repellent mood. "valparaiso makes me think of algiers," wrote frank in his note-book, "but i miss the grand archways of the _boulevard de la république_ and the old castle which once sheltered the dey and held his treasures. i think of beyrout, with the lebanon range in the background, but the lebanon is dwarfed almost to insignificance by the mighty andes; i think of quebec, but the heights of abraham and the walls of the old-time stronghold of france in america are not faithfully reproduced; and, finally, i remember gibraltar, nestling at the base of the famous 'rock.' there is a resemblance to all these places, but when we study valparaiso in detail we find many points of difference. "valparaiso has suffered from earthquakes; twice it has been nearly destroyed by them, and there is hardly a week in the year without a shock. for this reason the houses are mostly of one or two stories, especially in the resident portion, and every inhabitant is ready to flee to the open air at a moment's warning. i don't want to become a permanent dweller in this city until earthquakes are done away with." [illustration: customs guard-house, valparaiso.] the city has theatres and churches, schools and hospitals, a custom-house and a government palace, great warehouses for the reception and storage of goods, street railways, gas, steam fire-engines, fine shops, poor hotels, and a fairly good police system. it has a large and increasing commerce, and is destined to grow in wealth and grandeur as time goes on, unless the earthquakes make an end of it--a contingency not pleasant to contemplate. it was bombarded by the spanish fleet in , and, though few lives were lost, there was an immense destruction of property, of which nine tenths belonged to foreign merchants. [illustration: spanish-american costumes.] about three o'clock on the afternoon of the day following frank's arrival the flag on the custom-house signalled the approach of the english steamer. our young traveller, accompanied by manuel, engaged a boat, and as the great ship came to her anchorage he was rowed alongside, and exchanged greetings with his old companions and friends. we will now make a flying leap over the andes, and accompany dr. bronson and his nephew in their voyage from buenos ayres through the strait of magellan. chapter xxix. strait of magellan.--falkland islands.--a penguin city.--sandy point.--hunting the ostrich and guanaco.--patagonian giants. the voyage southward from buenos ayres was uneventful, as the ocean was calm and the steamer kept well out to sea. there was an agreeable change in the temperature; it became delightfully cool on the day following their departure, and continued so until the coast of patagonia was sighted, near the entrance of the strait of magellan. fred was disappointed with his first view of patagonia. he knew it was a desolate region, but was hardly prepared for the total absence of all vegetation on the shore which he scanned through his glass. it was the shore of the red sea without its warmth of sunshine, and the rosy tints for which its name was given. coming from the rich verdure of the amazon and the rio de la plata, he found the gray, barren landscape of patagonia doubly forbidding, and his desire for a journey through the country was by no means great. the entrance to the strait of magellan is about twenty-two miles wide; the northerly, or, rather, the northeasterly, point around which the steamer took its course is called cape virgens, and the southeastern cape espiritu santo. almost due east, and about three hundred miles distant, are the falkland islands, which belong to great britain, and are of more political than practical value. there is excellent pasturage on the islands, and considerable numbers of cattle and sheep are raised there, but the climate is not favorable to agriculture. [illustration: seal of the falkland islands.] fred wanted to visit the falklands, not so much to examine the country as to see the seals and penguins, which are killed there in great numbers. as he was unable to make the journey, he contented himself with a description given by a fellow-passenger. [illustration: patagonia and tierra del fuego.] "the penguin is a funny-looking bird," said the gentleman, "and his breeding-place is as funny as he is. in the first place, he can't fly; he has two wings, like any other bird, but they are very short, and only useful for helping him over the ground when on land, and for paddling him about in the water. he doesn't use his wings much, though, in the water, as his broad feet are webbed like a duck's, and propel him very rapidly. "when i first came to this part of the world i was on a schooner in search of penguin oil. we went to one of the rocky islands where the birds make their home, and found a city of probably a hundred thousand penguins." "a hundred thousand in one city!" exclaimed fred, in astonishment. "yes, a hundred thousand at least," was the reply, "and i've seen a penguin city five times as large as that. there was a space of fifty or sixty acres covered with birds about as thick as they could sit together; it was laid off into squares by streets running at right angles, and a surveyor couldn't have made the lines straighter than they were. "and not only do they lay the ground out into squares, but they level it off and pick up all the stones and shells lying around, so that it is as smooth as a lawn. then the birds go in pairs, and each pair picks out a place for a nest; it isn't a nest at all, but simply a spot on the ground. the hen lays one egg, and only one; the male bird brings her food from the sea, or if she wishes occasionally to have a swim he sits on the egg during her absence. he takes such good care of her that she is always plump and fat, and for this reason the penguins are sought and killed during their breeding season. [illustration: the penguin.] "they walk up and down the streets like soldiers, standing erect all the time, and waddling along on their feet. the fun of the thing is that they divide themselves off into classes, according to their plumage and also according to the stages of their incubation; one class never disturbs another, but whether they keep order without the aid of a policeman or not i am unable to say." fred asked how large the ordinary penguin is. "there are several varieties of these birds," said his informant, "the largest being the emperor penguin, which weighs twenty-five or thirty pounds, and i have known them to tip the scale at very nearly forty. the old birds are so tough and fishy that a dog won't touch them, but the chickens are good eating. i have tried the eggs, but didn't like 'em, as they resembled a hen's egg cooked in lamp-oil. penguins only go on shore during the breeding season; for the rest of the time they live in the water, and some varieties of them are frequently found on or near cakes of ice two or three hundred miles from land." while this strange bird of the southern hemisphere was under discussion the steamer passed between the two capes we have mentioned, and entered possession bay; then she passed through the first narrows, where the cliffs are not more than two miles apart. on the right was patagonia; on the left lay the island of tierra del fuego, 'land of fire,' presenting an aspect quite as forbidding as that of the mainland of the continent. desolation everywhere, and a leaden sky that threatened wind and rain. [illustration: the home of the sea-birds.] from the first narrows, which are about nine miles long, they opened out into a broader stretch of water known as philip's bay, and then came to the second narrows and to elisabeth island. wild birds were numerous, and in some places the shores were covered with them; in the narrows the water all around the steamer was alive with gulls, and a dozen other varieties of sea-fowl. among them fred recognized the shag, coot, and cormorant. the gentleman who had told him about the penguins pointed out a settlement of those birds on the shore, but too far away to enable them to see much of it. [illustration: the cormorant.] from the second narrows the course of the steamer swept to the southward until she passed cape froward, the most southerly point of the continent; at cape froward there is a sudden bend to the northward, and this course is continued to the outlet of the strait into the pacific ocean, at cape pillars, three hundred and fifteen miles from cape virgens. [illustration: a steamer entering the strait of magellan.] the navigation of the strait is easy enough for a steamer, but very difficult for a sailing-ship. the water is deep, and there is no danger of being left on sand-bars, but the tides make strong currents in various parts of the strait; several of the passages are tortuous, and require a quick change of helm even for a steamer; and the openings between the cliffs are liable to gusts of wind that make it dangerous for a vessel relying on her sails alone. the narrowest place is about one mile across, and is in "crooked reach." this point is the great terror of sailing captains, as a strong wind generally blows there, and changes its direction at frequent intervals. "this strait bears the name of its discoverer," wrote fred in his note-book, "or, at any rate, it is near enough to identify him. on the st of october, , fernando magalhaens, a portuguese navigator, entered the strait from the atlantic, and on the th of november of the same year he emerged into the broad and peaceful ocean which he named 'pacifico.' thus the strait of magellan and the pacific ocean were first navigated by one and the same individual. he may also be called the first circumnavigator of the globe. he sailed over the pacific ocean to the philippine islands, where he was killed in a fight with the natives; on a previous voyage he had been eastward to the longitude of the philippines, and thus had been completely around the world, though not in a continuous journey." a hundred miles from the atlantic ocean the steamer came in sight of punta arenas, or sandy point; it is best known to english-speaking people by the latter name, which is a translation of the former. the steamer was to remain here several hours, and our friends embraced the opportunity to go on shore. sandy point was originally a convict settlement of the government of chili, and was officially called "la colonia de magellanes." it was founded in , and for some years contained only the convicts and the garrison that watched over them; when steamers began to navigate the strait the government, seeing that the place was destined to be of commercial importance, determined to establish a free colony there. grants of land were given to german and swiss settlers; several hundreds were brought there from the old world; but the character of the country is unfavorable, and the colony has never prospered. from cape froward to and beyond the neighborhood of sandy point there are forests of beeches and other foliferous trees, and the hills and level ground back of them are covered with grass. agriculture is limited, and the colonists who went to the strait of magellan to make homes and become rich have been sorely disappointed. the steamer anchored in front of the little town, and hardly had her anchor touched the bottom of the bay when a steam tender came alongside, bringing the captain of the port and the agent of the steamship company. dr. bronson and his nephew were invited to go ashore in the tender; they had made a bargain with a boatman, but, as the waves were dancing merrily in consequence of the brisk wind blowing down the strait, they accepted the invitation, and paid the owner of the boat for doing nothing. in a quarter of an hour they were landed at a little wooden pier, and had leisure to study the most southerly town of the western world. [illustration: chilian settlement at sandy point.] "it didn't take us long to see the whole of sandy point," said fred, in the account of their visit, "as the sights of the place can be exhausted in a very little while. there is a beach in front of a high ridge of hills, and some rising ground intervening between beach and hills. the town straggles along this beach, and back on the rising ground behind it; it consists of a fort, a church, some government barracks, a custom-house, and one or two other public buildings, together with a lot of one-story houses disposed in lines to form streets. it has a population of eight or nine hundred--possibly a thousand--and presents a woe-begone appearance, like that of a half-deserted village. "there were germans, swiss, french, and italians among the people we met in the streets; the rest were chilians and patagonians, together with some fuegians who had paddled over the strait from their native shores. the europeans were much like the same people elsewhere, and we paid no particular attention to them; we were more interested in the patagonians and fuegians, and i prevailed upon some of them to stand to be sketched under promise of half a dollar each for their trouble. their countenances are not prepossessing, and by no stretch of the imagination could they be called handsome. in fact, i consider them about the ugliest people i ever saw. [illustration: patagonian dress.] "the patagonian dress is a poncho or mantle of guanaco skins, which hangs from the shoulders and has a hole in the centre for the head; sometimes it is gathered at the waist by a belt, especially when the wearer is on horseback, and in cold weather those who can afford it have a smaller garment of nearly the same sort underneath a larger one. the men pluck out their beards when they have any, and as the dress is the same for both sexes it is next to impossible for a stranger to distinguish men from women in a group of natives. i made a sketch of a girl who was said to be about twenty years old; she was considered a belle, but i do not believe any belle of new york would be jealous of her good looks. [illustration: a patagonian belle.] "this antipodean langtry wore a guanaco robe which was by no means new; her black hair was greasy and unkempt at the sides, but cut rather short on the top of the head; her nose was broad and flat; and her mouth extended almost from side to side of her face. her eyes were black and piercing, and her self-satisfied smile as she stood for her picture told that she knew how handsome she was. "i hear some one asking about the height of the patagonians, and if they are really the giants they were represented in the school-books of forty years ago. they are not giants in the ordinary acceptation of the term, but are certainly above the ordinary height. the governor of sandy point personally measured the height of a great many patagonian men, and his experiments covered several years of his residence there. he reports the average height as between five feet eleven inches and six feet. "mr. beerbohm, the author of 'wanderings in patagonia,' says the indians he travelled with possess extraordinary strength, and he tells the following story as an illustration of what they can do: "'an indian was leading a horse towards the camp by a lasso, when the animal for some reason or other stopped suddenly short, and obstinately refused to stir from the spot. after a few coaxing but ineffectual tugs at the lasso, the indian gave a short grunt of impatience, and then taking the lasso over his shoulder, bent forward, seemingly without effort, and dragged the horse by main force about twenty yards, notwithstanding its determined attempts at resistance.' "from the same writer and from other sources," continued fred, "i learned a good deal about the country and the people of patagonia, which consoled me for my inability to make a journey through it, and indulge in hunting the ostrich and the guanaco. formerly hunting was possible within a few hours' ride of sandy point, but at present the game has been killed off or driven to the north, and those who would have sport cannot find it nearer than fifty or sixty miles away. this is too far to go when we wish to continue on our journey with a steamer that remains only a few hours in port. "patagonia is a desolate region, comprising an area of about three hundred and fifty thousand square miles; its northern boundary is the rio negro, and there have been disputes between chili and the argentine republic concerning the right to the country. it has been finally agreed that chili may have the west coast and the country along the strait, while the republic may possess the region bordering on the atlantic. several colonies have been made in patagonia by the two claimants, but none of them have succeeded. [illustration: the guanaco.] "the population is very small, considering the area; some authorities place it as low as three thousand, and none higher than ten thousand; the latter figure is probably excessive. the plains are covered with a few shrubs and scanty grass, or with nothing at all, and the valleys are the only places where cattle and horses can find sufficient grazing to keep them alive. some of the northern tribes have herds of cattle and sheep, mostly stolen from the argentine republic, but the southern natives have no cattle and but few horses. notwithstanding their desolate character, the plains support countless numbers of ostriches and guanacos; the feathers of the former and the skins of the latter are articles of commerce, and their flesh serves as food. when the indians are unsuccessful in hunting these animals they live upon horse-flesh, and many of them prefer it to any other article of food. "we met at sandy point a guacho from the argentine republic who had spent several years in patagonia, and made a living by hunting. he had a troop of dogs which he used in the chase of the ostriches and guanaco, and he told us that it was his plan to start out with two or three indian attendants, and be absent for weeks at a time. when he saw an ostrich he sent his dogs after it, and followed close behind on horseback; with dogs and bolas he rarely failed to bring down his game, and the same was the case with the guanaco. he had from six to a dozen horses; when one was wearied he quickly changed the saddle to another. when he had gathered a sufficient quantity of ostrich feathers and guanaco skins to pay for the journey, he came to sandy point, and he had arrived there only the day before we met him. "he told us that his greatest annoyances came from the wild horses and the indians. his own horses had been attacked by the wild ones on several occasions, and he once lost all except those that he and his attendants were riding at the time. he said the wild brutes display a great deal of intelligence in attacking a herd of tame ones; they form a circle about the latter, and attempt to drive them away, and if they are very numerous there is great danger of their success. he said the best way to defeat them was to single out the leader of the attacking force, and pay no attention to the rest. if you can kill the leader the rest can be driven off without much trouble, but as long as the head of the herd is unharmed there is no safety. "the indians are usually peaceable, but they had a habit of coming to his camp, and literally eating him out. they stayed as long as there was anything to eat, and had no modesty about asking for what they wanted. he always endeavored to keep as far from them as he could, partly because they 'ate him out of house and home,' and partly because game was always scarce and shy when they were about. "in addition to ostriches and guanacos, there are plenty of armadillos, pumas, foxes, and skunks. our guacho generally killed pumas when they came in his way, but did not go around in search of them. he said the flesh was good eating, and tasted like veal, but it varied somewhat in quality, according to the age and condition of the animal. the puma lives on the ostrich and guanaco; he is very powerful, and can kill a guanaco with a single blow of his huge paw. he is as cowardly as he is strong, and when attacked by a hunter he rarely resists unless slightly wounded and 'cornered.' the guacho said he had frequently ridden close up to a crouching puma and killed him with a blow from a bolas, or a shot from a revolver. [illustration: seeking safety.] "i asked about the ostrich, and he said there were two kinds in patagonia, that of the north being larger and darker than the one inhabiting the south. while he was talking i turned to mr. beerbohm's book and found the following: "'the ostrich of southern patagonia (_rhea darwinii_) is smaller than the "avestruz moro" (_rhea americana_), as the species which frequents the country near the river negro is called by the natives. the color of its plumage is brown, the feathers being tipped with white, whereas the moro, as its name indicates, is uniformly gray. the _r. darwinii_ are extremely shy birds, and as their vision is remarkably acute, it is by no means an easy matter to catch them unless one has very swift dogs to hunt with.' [illustration: the ostrich and his hunters.] "the guacho said the ostrich of america has the same peculiarities that he is credited with in africa. he doubles on his pursuer, and sometimes he will drop flat on the ground, and endeavor to escape by lying perfectly motionless until the dogs have passed. in some conditions of the wind this trick succeeds, but if it is blowing the scent towards the dogs they find the unhappy bird and make short work of him. [illustration: skeleton of the ostrich.] "the ostrich makes his nest by scooping a hole in the ground under the shadow of a bush, and lining it with a few wisps of dry grass to make it soft for the chickens. there are from ten to forty eggs in a nest; they are laid by several hens and not by one, as with most other birds, and it is a curious fact that the male bird sits on the nest, hatches the eggs, and looks after the young. if the weather is fine he sometimes grazes an hour or two in the evening in the vicinity of the nest, but he never goes far away; when it rains he never leaves the nest, and he has been known to stay there six or seven days without feeding. "after the hatching season the ostriches lay their eggs all over the plains without any regard to hatching them. these eggs are a prize for the hunters; many a meal has been made of them, and, as our guacho said, many a life had been saved by this habit of the great bird. they keep perfectly fresh for months; one ostrich egg contains as much as ten hen's eggs, so that it makes a good dinner for one person. this is the way to cook it: "break a small hole in the top of the egg and remove some of the white. beat the rest of the contents up together, and when you have done this thoroughly, set the egg on its end in the ashes, a little way from the fire, so that it will roast. stir the contents frequently to prevent burning, and turn the egg occasionally to keep the shell from cracking. fifteen minutes will cook it thoroughly; add pepper and salt, if you have any, and your dinner is ready. "i will close this bird talk by quoting a bill of fare given by mr. beerbohm, of a dinner on the plains: "soup.--rice and ostrich. "broiled ostrich wings. "ostrich steak. "roast ostrich gizzard. "ostrich eggs. "custard.--ostrich eggs and sugar. "more ostrich, if wanted." chapter xxx. mutiny at sandy point.--tierra del fuego.--missionary enterprises there.--captain gardiner.--cruise of the "wateree."--side-wheel ducks.--up the pacific coast.--the meeting at valparaiso.--the end. sandy point has not been without its tragedy, in spite of its youth as a colony. in november, , the convicts and soldiers mutinied, and for two days the place was a scene of bloodshed and robbery. about sixty of the officers, soldiers, and colonists were killed and many others were wounded; the arrival of a chilian gunboat, on the third day, put an end to the revolt and restored order. the mutineers fled to the pampas, where many of them died of starvation and exposure, and the remnant of the band was captured near the mouth of the santa cruz river. many of the buildings in the town were burned, and the destruction of property was estimated at half a million dollars. [illustration: captain smiley.] dr. bronson inquired for captain smiley, an american who was once famous in this part of the world; he learned that the captain died some years before, but not until he had reached very nearly the hundredth year of his age. an officer of the united states steamer _wateree_ described the captain as known to everybody from uruguay round to chili, and says he rendered numerous and invaluable services to vessels shipwrecked anywhere within a thousand miles of the strait. one sea-captain who was wrecked on the eastern coast of patagonia declared that smiley scented the disaster six hundred miles away, and came to his assistance. he once rounded cape horn alone in a fifty-ton schooner, and his life was full of extraordinary experiences in the southern hemisphere. [illustration: mountains and glaciers in magellan's strait.] as the doctor and his nephew returned to the steamer they met a boat-load of fuegians on their way to sandy point, from the other side of the strait. fred had considered the patagonians very low in the scale of humanity, but on seeing the fuegians he was inclined to rank the patagonians among the _crême de la crême_. though the weather was cold, they were not more than half clad, and the few garments among them were the merest apologies for clothing. the boat was a frame of wood covered with seal-skins sewn together, and was far more attractive to the eye of the stranger than were its occupants. the inhabitants of tierra del fuego are of the same race as the patagonians, but smaller; they live near the sea-coast, as the most of their food is obtained from the water in the shape of shell or other fish, seals, aquatic birds, and a certain edible weed that is thrown up by the waves. they are reputed to be cannibals, and the crews of ships wrecked on their coast have been killed and eaten by these savages. they do not confine their cannibalism to shipwrecked mariners, if all stories are true; captain smiley said he once visited a fuegian chief, with whom he was on friendly terms, and found him superintending the cooking of one of his wives! missionaries have labored among the fuegians, but to very little good result. the first effort was made after the return of admiral fitzroy's expedition, which is described in darwin's "voyage of the beagle." four fuegians were taken to england, where one of them died, and the others remained for three years and were educated. one of these natives was named "jemmy button," in consequence of his having been bought from his parents for a button cut from an officer's coat; he was intelligent, and gave promise of future usefulness, and it was thought a good plan to send him to his native land accompanied by a missionary. jemmy received many presents from kind-hearted people before starting for his old home, and when he arrived there he was cordially welcomed. the ship's carpenter built a house for the missionary and jemmy; a garden was made and seeds were sown; the natives who flocked around the ship were well treated; and everything seemed to promise favorably. hardly was the ship out of sight before the natives robbed jemmy of all his treasures, and reduced him to his original condition of a savage. all his fine clothes were destroyed, and he was compelled to dress--or, rather, to undress--like his own people; it is probable that the missionary would have been killed had not the ship looked in again after a week's absence, to see how things were getting along. [illustration: jemmy button's sound.] the next visitors to tierra del fuego found that the effect of civilization on jemmy had not improved his morals. captain snow, who commanded a ship which touched at several places on the island, says jemmy's tribe was the worst he saw, and had to be constantly watched to prevent thefts. they stole everything they could lay their hands on, and a few years later they massacred the crew of a ship that was sent there by the london missionary society, the very ship that captain snow formerly commanded. [illustration: fuegians visiting a war steamer.] most of the missionary work in tierra del fuego was through the efforts of captain allen gardiner, formerly of the british navy. captain snow says "gardiner was a brave and upright man, zealously religious, but wanting in wisdom and prudence. he deemed himself called upon to go about the world and bring a few of the heathen from darkness to light. four times did he belt the earth, visiting the zulus in south africa, the islanders of the pacific, the inhabitants of interior south america, and numerous other places. twice he was in patagonia and twice in tierra del fuego; the last time he went there was in a passing ship, taking two boats, a surgeon, a lay teacher, a carpenter, and four fishermen from cornwall, with six months' provisions." captain gardiner's first effort in tierra del fuego was at banner cove, picton island, where he tried to establish a station. the natives plundered him of everything, and he left in order to save his life; he returned to england, where he lectured, and obtained sufficient money to make another trial of the inhospitable land, under the circumstances narrated in the preceding paragraph. here is what he writes concerning his arrival at banner cove: "on friday, the th of december, , we erected our tents, and on the th we constructed a strong fence of trees around our position, leaving only one small opening. this night and the next day the number of natives increased. their rudeness and pertinacious endeavor to force a way into our tents, and to purloin our things, became so systematic and resolute that it was not possible to retain our position without resorting to force, from which, of course, we refrained." the natives became so hostile that captain gardiner and his party abandoned the place, and attempted to go along the coast to a more favorable spot. three of their boats were lost in this journey, together with a considerable part of their stores, and they were in great distress. one by one the members of the party died of hunger and exposure, some of them at banner cove, and others at a point which has since been known as starvation beach. [illustration: the "allen gardiner" in banner cove.] a few years later a ship was built in england for missionary work in tierra del fuego, and named the _allen gardiner_, in honor of the lamented missionary. this was the ship which the natives plundered, after murdering her crew; she was recovered by captain smiley and taken to the falkland islands for repairs, and afterwards made several voyages to the "land of fire," but without advancing the condition of the natives to any noticeable extent. [illustration: starvation beach.] the fuegian is about as inhospitable as his country and climate can well make him. the region is subject to heavy rains and severe cold; the snow-line on the mountains is only four thousand feet above the sea, and mr. darwin says it is difficult to find an acre of level ground in the whole country. the lowland is covered with peat swamps and forests of beeches, and some of the scenery is quite pretty, but the general aspect is forbidding and desolate. there are glaciers along the sides of the mountains, and there are fresh-water lakes in the interior, frequented by great flocks of ducks and other aquatic birds. along the coast are islands which are the resort of fur seals, and occasionally a rich haul is made by enterprising sealers. the natives live in conical huts or wigwams built from the branches of trees over holes dug in the ground. in addition to shell-fish and other sea products, they live on a fungus that grows on the beech-trees. a picture of a fuegian and his food is given on the next page. the reader will observe the fungus growing in a cluster a few feet above the base of the tree and just where the limbs diverge. it is an article of food not adapted to the european palate, but the natives seem to be fond of it--perhaps because they are obliged to be. [illustration: a fuegian and his food.] "why was the country named tierra del fuego?" fred inquired, as he watched the coast of that forbidding region while the ship was steaming away from sandy point. "it was so named by magellan," replied the doctor, "in consequence of the numerous fires he saw along the coast." "but we have seen no fires there," said the youth; "and i wonder if there were more inhabitants then than now." "i cannot say as to that," dr. bronson answered. "no census has ever been taken in tierra del fuego, and from present appearances none is likely to be. nobody wants the country, as it is absolutely worthless for all practical purposes. it would be a dear purchase at ten cents a square mile. "captain snow and others who have visited the country estimate the inhabitants at not more than two thousand. they are the lowest in the scale of barbarism of all the people of the world; they live in small tribes, and among them might makes right. if one native gets more property than another he is quickly relieved of his superfluous possessions and reduced to the common level. you have a good illustration of this state of things in the case of jemmy button. his friends in england had loaded him with presents previous to his return, but he was not allowed to keep them twenty-four hours after the ship which brought him had departed. the same treatment is visited upon the missionaries, and upon every one else who falls into their power. they have no vanderbilts among them, and possess no ideas concerning the foundations of fortunes and families. [illustration: a fuegian feast.] "mr. darwin says their greatest idea of happiness is to have the carcass of a whale drift upon the coast where they can secure it. they remove the blubber in large pieces; then they cut holes in the centre of these pieces and thrust their heads through them, as a guacho puts on his poncho, in order to carry the stuff away; men, women, and children join in the labor of securing this supply of food, and they have an abundance to eat as long as it lasts. unlike the natives of the aleutian islands, they have no means of catching whales, as their inventive genius has not been equal to devising anything useful." [illustration: ruins at port famine.] three hours after leaving sandy point the steamer passed port famine, which owes its name to a melancholy incident in its history. in a spanish colony was founded there by sarmiento; out of three hundred men who formed the colony all but two died of starvation within four years. in the early part of this century the chilian government made a convict settlement there; the convicts revolted, killed their guards, and then seized a trading schooner and sailed away, after killing its crew. they were afterwards captured and properly punished by the government authorities. one of the officers of the steamer called fred's attention to a "side-wheel" duck, whose performance in the water resembled that of the steamer from which it takes its name. this bird is said to be found only in patagonia; it does not use its wings for flying nor its feet for paddling, but when pursued it rushes through the water with great speed by means of its wings. the officer said he had never seen one of these ducks attempt to fly; an examination of its wings showed a cartilaginous projection at the elbow, but when in motion its movements were so rapid that the mode of propulsion could not be distinctly defined. the feet could be seen trailing behind; and there was a sort of mist at the side of the bird, while the wake in his rear was exactly like that left by a paddle steamer. mountain peaks were visible on both sides of the strait. in many places the cliffs were almost perpendicular, and hundreds of feet in height. there were many little harbors opening out from the strait, but fred was informed, by the officer who had called his attention to the ducks, that many of the harbors were useless, as the water was too deep to permit ships to anchor. but where anchorage is possible the shelter is perfect, the surrounding mountains completely shutting out the winds. the geologists say these harbors are probably the craters of volcanoes that were extinguished ages and ages ago. [illustration: borgia bay.] they passed near port gallant, borgia bay, and other harbors which are marked on the chart, but without making a pause at any of them. before the days of regular steam navigation it was the custom for those passing through the strait to leave the names of their ships, with short records of their cruises, at the different anchorages. a favorite place for thus informing those who followed them was at borgia bay, where sometimes dozens of boards could be seen fastened to the trees. the historian of the cruise of the _wateree_ says that one captain recorded his vessel as a "whaling skuner." [illustration: inscriptions at borgia bay.] the _wateree_ explored many of the channels between the mainland and the islands along the west coast of patagonia, and continued that work up to the bay of castro, where she was the first steam-vessel of war ever seen. one of the bays along this route bears her name, and is distinguished by a curious mark on a cliff in the form of the letter "h." [illustration: "h" cliff, wateree bay.] during her explorations the _wateree_ ran short of coal and was obliged to take wood from the forests along the shore. this was tedious and discouraging work, especially as the wood was either green or water-soaked, and required a great deal of coaxing to make it burn. imagine the surprise and delight of the officers when they were visited at a little chilian village by an enterprising yankee, who said he had a hundred cords of perfectly seasoned wood a few miles away, which he would sell at a low price. they went there at once and bought his wood, which helped them to the next port, where coal could be obtained. [illustration: the yankee wood-dealer.] there is an abundance of bituminous coal along the western coast of chili, and as far down as the strait. there are veins of coal at port famine, and others near sandy point, but the quality is poor. the best of the chilian coal-mines are at lota, where many thousands of tons are mined every month. the chilian coal is sold in all the ports of the west coast of south america as far north as panama; the veins are large, the mines are easily operated, and the supply may be considered inexhaustible. [illustration: near the coast of patagonia.] passing from the strait of magellan to the pacific ocean, the steamer headed northward towards her destination at valparaiso. fred had occasional glimpses of the coasts of patagonia and chili, but for the greater part of the way they were generally out of sight of land. in some seasons of the year the steamers follow the sheltered route among the islands--it affords inland navigation for nearly three hundred miles--but when fogs prevail the captains consider it safer to take the open ocean. the lofty peaks of the andes were almost continuously visible on the eastern horizon, after the steamer passed the latitude of the volcano of corcovado. towards the strait the mountains are less elevated than farther to the north, few of the peaks of the last hundred miles of the chain reaching above ten thousand feet in height. aconcagua, the highest mountain of the andean range, was in full view on the last day of the voyage, and formed a magnificent landmark, which directed the mariners to their destination in the harbor of valparaiso. as the steamer came to anchor, fred peered anxiously over the rail at the many boats that were dancing on the waves. from one to another he turned his gaze, and was about giving up the search for a familiar face when he saw a handkerchief waving in the stern of one of the approaching craft. another glance, and then another, and the youthful face was radiant with smiles. out came fred's handkerchief to wave a response to frank, who had come to meet him. as soon as the latter was permitted to board the steamer he sprang up the gangway, and the three friends were once more together. the end. interesting books for boys. * * * * * the boy travellers in south america. adventures of two youths in a journey through ecuador, peru, bolivia, brazil, paraguay, argentine republic, and chili. with descriptions of patagonia and tierra del fuego, and voyages upon the amazon and la plata rivers. by thomas w. knox. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . . the boy travellers in the far east. by thomas w. knox. five parts. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . each. part i. adventures of two youths in a journey to japan and china. part ii. adventures of two youths in a journey to siam and java. with descriptions of cochin-china, cambodia, sumatra, and the malay archipelago. part iii. adventures of two youths in a journey to ceylon and india. with descriptions of borneo, the philippine islands, and burmah. part iv. adventures of two youths in a journey to egypt and palestine. part v. adventures of two youths in a journey through africa. the voyage of the "vivian" to the north pole and beyond. adventures of two youths in the open polar sea. by thomas w. knox. profusely illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . . hunting adventures on land and sea. by thomas w. knox. two parts. copiously illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . each. part i. the young nimrods in north america. part ii. the young nimrods around the world. what mr. darwin saw in his voyage round the world in the ship "beagle." illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . . friends worth knowing. glimpses of american natural history. by ernest ingersoll. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . by charles carleton coffin. four volumes. illustrated. vo, cloth, $ . each. the story of liberty.--old times in the colonies.--the boys of ' (a history of the battles of the revolution).--building the nation. camp life in the woods; and the tricks of trapping and trap making. by w. hamilton gibson, author of "pastoral days." illustrated by the author. mo, cloth, $ . . how to get strong, and how to stay so. by william blaikie. with illustrations. mo, cloth, $ . . the history of the united states navy, for boys. by benson j. lossing, ll.d. illustrated. mo, half leather, $ . . the adventures of a young naturalist. by lucien biart. with illustrations. mo, cloth, $ . . an involuntary voyage. by lucien biart. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . "harper's young people" series. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . per volume. the adventures of jimmy brown. written by himself and edited by w. l. alden. the cruise of the canoe club. by w. l. alden. the cruise of the "ghost." by w. l. alden. the moral pirates. by w. l. alden. toby tyler; or, ten weeks with a circus. by james otis. mr. stubbs's brother. a sequel to "toby tyler." by james otis. tim and tip; or, the adventures of a boy and a dog. by james otis. left behind; or, ten days a newsboy. by james otis. raising the "pearl." by james otis. mildred's bargain, and other stories. by lucy c. lillie. nan. by lucy c. lillie. the four macnicols. by william black. the lost city; or, the boy explorers in central asia. by david ker. the talking leaves. an indian story. by w. o. stoddard. who was paul grayson? by john habberton, author of "helen's babies." prince lazybones, and other stories. by mrs. w. j. hays. the ice queen. by ernest ingersoll. chapters on plant life. by mrs. s. b. herrick. round the world; including a residence in victoria, and a journey by rail across north america. by a boy. edited by samuel smiles. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . the self-help series. by samuel smiles. mo, cloth, $ . per volume. self-help.--character.--thrift.--duty. politics for young americans. by charles nordhoff. mo, half leather, cents. stories of the gorilla country. by paul b. du chaillu. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . the country of the dwarfs. by paul b. du chaillu. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . wild life under the equator. by paul b. du chaillu. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . my apingi kingdom; with life in the great sahara, and sketches of the chase of the ostrich, hyena, &c. by paul b. du chaillu. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . lost in the jungle. by paul b. du chaillu. illustrated. mo, cloth, $ . . * * * * * published by harper & brothers, new york. _any of the foregoing works sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states or canada, on receipt of the price._ [illustration: map of south america] transcriber's notes: ( ) numbers following letters (without space) like c were originally printed in subscript. letter subscripts are preceded by an underscore, like c_n. ( ) characters following a carat (^) were printed in superscript. ( ) side-notes were relocated to function as titles of their respective paragraphs. ( ) macrons and breves above letters and dots below letters were not inserted. ( ) the following typographical errors have been corrected: article chalcis: "chalcis subsequently became a member of both the delian leagues. in the hellenistic period it gained importance as a fortress by which the macedonian rulers controlled central greece". 'importance' amended from 'inportance'. article chamisso, adelbert von: "he often deals with gloomy and sometimes with ghastly and repulsive subjects; and even in his lighter and gayer productions there is an undertone of sadness or of satire". 'productions' amended from 'proudctions'. article channel islands: "... burhou and ortach, and numerous other islets west of it, and west again the notorious casquets, an angry group of jagged rocks, on the largest of which is a powerful lighthouse". 'an' amended from 'and'. encyclopaedia britannica a dictionary of arts, sciences, literature and general information eleventh edition volume v, slice vii cerargyrite to charing cross articles in this slice: cerargyrite chambers cerberus chambersburg cerdic chambÉry cerdonians chambord, henri charles dieudonnÉ cerealis, petillius chambord ceres chambre ardente cerignola chameleon cerigotto chamfer cerinthus chamfort, sebastien roch nicolas cerium chamier, frederick cernuschi, henri chamillart, michel cerography chaminade, cÉcile cerro de pasco chamisso, adelbert von certaldo chamkanni cerussite chamois cerutti, giuseppe giachimo chamomile cervantes saavedra, miguel de chamonix cervera, pascual topete champagne cesarevich champagny, jean baptiste nompÈre de cesari, giuseppe champaign cesarotti, melchiore champaigne, philippe de cesena champaran cesnola, luigi palma di champeaux, william of cespedes, pablo de champerty cÉspedes y meneses, gonzalo de champion cess championnet, jean Étienne cessio bonorum champlain, samuel de cesti, marc' antonio champlain cestius, lucius champmeslÉ, marie cestui, cestuy champollion, jean franÇois cetacea champollion-figeac, jacques joseph cethegus chance cetina, gutierre de chancel cette chancellor cettigne chancellorsville cetus chance-medley cetywayo chancery ceuta chanda ceva chandausi cÉvennes chand bardai ceylon chandelier chabazite chandernagore chablis chandler, henry william chabot, franÇois chandler, richard chabot, georges antoine chandler, samuel chabot, philippe de chandler, zachariah chabrias chandos, barons and dukes of chabrier, alexis emmanuel chandos, sir john chacma chandragupta maurya chaco changarnier, nicolas anne thÉodule chaconne chang-chow chad, saint chang chun, kiu chad change chadderton changeling chaderton, laurence changos chadwick, sir edwin changra chaeremon (athenian dramatist) channel islands chaeremon (stoic philosopher) channing, william ellery chaeroneia chansons de geste chaetognatha chant chaetopoda chantabun chaetosomatida chantada chafer chantage chaff chantarelle chaffarinas chantavoine, henri chaffee, adna romanza chantilly chaffinch chantrey, sir francis legatt chafing-dish chant royal chagos chantry chagres chanute chain chanzy, antoine eugÈne alfred chair chaos chaise chapbook chakrata chape chalcedon chapel chalcedon, council of chapelain, jean chalcedony chapel-en-le-frith chalcidicum chapel hill chalcis chapelle ardente chalcondyles chaperon chaldaea chaplain chaldee chaplin, henry chalice chapman, george chalier, joseph chapman chalk chapone, hester chalkhill, john chappe, claude chalking the door chappell, william challamel, jean augustin chapra challemel-lacour, paul amand chaptal, jean antoine claude challenge chapter "challenger" expedition chapter-house challoner, richard chapu chalmers, alexander char chalmers, george char-À-banc chalmers, george paul character chalmers, james charade chalmers, thomas charcoal chaloner, sir thomas charcot, jean martin chÂlons-sur-marne chard, john rouse merriott chalon-sur-saÔne chard chalukya chardin, jean simÉon chalybÄus, heinrich moritz chardin, sir john chalybite charente chamba charente-infÉrieure chambal charenton-le-pont chamberlain, joseph chares chamberlain, joshua lawrence chares chamberlain, sir neville bowles chares chamberlain charge chamberlayne, william chargÉ d'affaires chambers, ephraim charging order chambers, george charibert chambers, robert charidemus chambers, sir william charing cross cerargyrite, a mineral species consisting of silver chloride; an important ore of silver. the name cerargyrite is a greek form (from [greek: keras], horn, and [greek: argyros], silver) of the older name hornsilver, which was used by k. gesner as far back as . the chloro-bromide and bromide of silver were also included under this term until they were distinguished chemically in and , and described under the names embolite and bromargyrite (or bromyrite) respectively; the chloride then came to be distinguished as chlorargyrite, though the name cerargyrite is often now applied to this alone. chloro-bromo-iodide of silver has also been recognized as a mineral and called iodembolite. all these are strikingly alike in appearance and general characters, differing essentially only in chemical composition, and it would seem better to reserve the name cerargyrite for the whole group, using the names chlorargyrite (agcl), embolite (ag(cl, bl)), bromargyrite (agbr) and iodembolite (ag(cl, br, i)) for the different isomorphous members of the group. they are cubic in crystallization, with the cube and the octahedron as prominent forms, but crystals are small and usually indistinct; there is no cleavage. they are soft (h = ½) and sectile to a high degree, being readily cut with a knife like horn. with their resinous to adamantine lustre and their translucency they also present somewhat the appearance of horn; hence the name hornsilver. the colour varies somewhat with the chemical composition, being grey or colourless in chlorargyrite, greenish-grey in embolite and bromargyrite, and greenish-yellow to orange-yellow in iodembolite. on exposure to light the colour quickly darkens. the specific gravity also varies with the composition: for the pure chloride it is . , and the highest recorded for an iodembolite is . . the hornsilvers all occur under similar conditions and are often associated together; they are found in metalliferous veins with native silver and ores of silver, and are usually confined to the upper oxidized parts of the lodes. they are important ores of silver (the pure chloride contains . % of silver), and have been extensively mined at several places in chile, also in mexico, and at broken hill in new south wales. the chloride and chloro-bromide have been found in several cornish mines, but never in very large amounts. (l. j. s.) cerberus, in greek mythology, the dog who guarded the entrance to the lower world. he allowed all to enter, but seized those who attempted to escape. according to hesiod (_theog._ ), he was a fifty-headed monster with a fearful bark, the offspring of typhon and echidna. he was variously represented with one, two or (usually) three heads, often with the tail of a snake or with snakes growing from his head or twined round his body. one of the tasks imposed upon heracles was to fetch cerberus from below to the upper world, a favourite subject of ancient vase-paintings. cerdic (d. ), founder of the west saxon kingdom, is described as an ealdorman who in landed with his son cynric in hampshire, where he was attacked at once by the britons. nothing more is heard of him until , when he defeated the britons with great slaughter. strengthened by fresh arrivals of saxons, he gained another victory in at certicesford, a spot which has been identified with the modern charford, and in this year took the title of king. turning westward, cerdic appears to have been defeated by the britons in at badbury or mount badon, in dorset, and in yet another fight with the britons is recorded. his last work was the conquest of the isle of wight, probably in the interest of some jutish allies. all the sovereigns of england, except canute, hardicanute, the two harolds and william the conqueror, are said to be descended from cerdic. see _anglo-saxon chronicle_, edited by c. plummer (oxford, - ); gildas, _de excidio britanniae_, edited by th. mommsen (berlin, ); nennius, _historia, brittonum_, edited by th. mommsen (berlin, ); bede, _historiae ecclesiasticae gentis anglorum libri v._, ed. c. plummer (oxford, ); e. guest, _origines celticae_ (london, ); j.r. green, _the making of england_ (london, ). cerdonians, a gnostic sect, founded by cerdo, a syrian, who came to rome about , but concerning whose history little is known. they held that there are two first causes--the perfectly good and the perfectly evil. the latter is also the creator of the world, the god of the jews, and the author of the old testament. jesus christ is the son of the good deity; he was sent into the world to oppose the evil; but his incarnation, and therefore his sufferings, were a mere appearance. regarding the body as the work of the evil deity, the cerdonians formed a moral system of great severity, prohibiting marriage, wine and the eating of flesh, and advocating fasting and other austerities. most of what the fathers narrate of cerdo's tenets has probably been transferred to him from his famous pupil marcion, like whom he is said to have rejected the old testament and the new, except part of luke's gospel and of paul's epistles. (see marcion, and gnosticism.) cerealis (cerialis), petillius ( st century a.d.), roman general, a near relative of the emperor vespasian. he is first heard of during the reign of nero in britain, where he was completely defeated (a.d. ) by boadicea. eight years later he played an important part in the capture of rome by the supporters of vespasian. in he put down the revolt of civilis (q.v.). in , as governor of britain, where he had as a subordinate the famous agricola, he inflicted severe defeats upon the brigantes, the most powerful of the tribes of britain. tacitus says that he was a bold soldier rather than a careful general, and preferred to stake everything on the issue of a single engagement. he possessed natural eloquence of a kind that readily appealed to his soldiers. his loyalty towards his superiors was unshakable. tacitus, _annals_, xiv. ; _histories_, iii. , , iv. , , , v. ; _agricola_, , . ceres, an old italian goddess of agriculture. the name probably means the "creator" or "created," connected with _crescere_ and _creare_. but when greek deities were introduced into rome on the advice of the sibylline books (in b.c., on the occasion of a severe drought), demeter, the greek goddess of seed and harvest, whose worship was already common in sicily and lower italy, usurped the place of ceres in rome, or rather, to ceres were added the religious rites which the greeks paid to demeter, and the mythological incidents which originated with her. at the same time the cult of dionysus and persephone (see liber and libera) was introduced. the rites of ceres were greek in language and form. her priestesses were italian greeks and her temple was greek in its architecture and built by greek artists. she was worshipped almost exclusively by plebeians, and her temple near the circus maximus was under the care of the plebeian aediles, one of whose duties was the superintendence of the corn-market. her chief festivals were the _ludi cereris_ or _cerealia_ (more correctly, _cerialia_), games held annually from april - (ovid, _fasti_, iv. ff.); a second festival, in august, to celebrate the reunion of ceres and proserpine, in which women, dressed in white, after a fast of nine days offered the goddess the first-fruits of the harvest (livy xxii. ); and the _jejunium cereris_, a fast also introduced ( b.c.) by command of the sibylline books (livy xxvi. ), at first held only every four years, then annually on the th of october. in later times ceres was confused with tellus. (see also demeter.) cerignola, a town of apulia, italy, in the province of foggia, m. s.e. by rail from the town of foggia. pop. ( ) , . it was rebuilt after a great earthquake in , and has a considerable agricultural trade. in the spaniards under gonzalo de cordoba defeated the french under the duc de nemours below the town--a victory which made the kingdom of naples into a spanish province in italy. cerignola occupies the site of furfane, a station on the via traiana between canusium and herdoniae. cerigotto, called locally lius (anc. _aegilia_ or _ogylos_; mod. gr. officially _antikythera_), an island of greece, belonging to the ionian group, and situated between cythera (cerigo) and crete, about m. from each. some raised beaches testify to an upheaval in comparatively recent times. with an area of about sq. m. it supports a population of about , who are mainly cretan refugees, and in favourable seasons exports a quantity of good wheat. it was long a favourite resort of greek pirates. it is famous for the discovery in , close to its coast, of the wreck of an ancient ship with a cargo of bronze and marble statues. cerinthus (c. a.d. ), an early christian heretic, contemporary with the closing years of the apostle john, who, according to the well-known story of polycarp, reported by irenaeus (iii. ) and twice recorded in eusebius (_hist. eccl._ iii. , iv. ), made a hasty exit from a bath in ephesus on learning that cerinthus was within. other early accounts agree in making the province of asia the scene of his activity, and hippolytus (_haer_. vii. ) credits him with an egyptian training. there can be no truth in the notice given by epiphanius (_haer_. xxviii. ) that cerinthus had in earlier days at jerusalem led the judaizing opposition against paul. the difficulty of defining cerinthus's theological position is due not only to the paucity of our sources but to the fact that the witness of the two principal authorities, irenaeus ( . , iii. ) and hippolytus (_syntagma_), does not agree. further, irenaeus himself in one passage fails to distinguish between cerinthian and valentinian doctrines. it would appear, however, that cerinthus laid stress on the rite of circumcision and on the observance of the sabbath. he taught that the world had been made by angels, from one of whom, the god of the jews, the people of israel had received their law, which was not perfect. the only new testament writing which he accepted was a mutilated gospel of matthew. jesus was the offspring of joseph and mary, and on him at the baptism descended the christ,[ ] revealing the hitherto unknown father, and endowing him with miraculous power. this christ left jesus again before the passion, and the resurrection of jesus was still in the future. together with these somewhat gnostic ideas, cerinthus, if we may trust the notices of gaius the roman presbyter (c. ) and dionysius of alexandria (c. ), held a violent and crude form of chiliasm. but the chief significance of the man is his "combination of zeal for legal observances with bold criticism of the law itself as a whole and of its origin," which reminds us of the clementine _recognitions_. cerinthus is a blend of judaizing christian and gnostic. footnote: [ ] so irenaeus. according to hippolytus and epiphanius it was the holy ghost that thus descended. cerium (symbol ce, atomic weight . ), a metallic chemical element which occurs with the rare earths in the minerals cerite, samarskite, euxenite, monazite, parisite and many yttrium minerals. the particular earth containing cerium was discovered by m.h. klaproth in , whilst j. berzelius at about the same time also examined it and came to the conclusion that it was the oxide of a new metal, which he termed cerium. the crude oxide of the metal is obtained from cerite, by evaporating the mineral with strong sulphuric acid, removing excess of acid and dissolving the residue in ice-cold water; sulphuretted hydrogen is passed through the solution, which is then filtered, acidified with hydrochloric acid, and precipitated as oxalate by oxalic acid; the oxalate is then converted into oxide by ignition. from the crude oxide so obtained (which contains lanthanum and didymium oxides) the cerium may be separated by conversion into its double sulphate on the addition of potassium sulphate, the sulphates of the cerium group being insoluble in a saturated solution of potassium sulphate. the sulphate is subsequently boiled with water, when a basic sulphate is precipitated. for the preparation of pure cerium compounds see auer v. welsbach, _monatshefte_, , v. . the metal was first obtained, in an impure state, by c.g. mosander, by fusing its chloride with sodium. w.f. hillebrand and t. norton have prepared it by the electrolysis of the melted chloride (_pogg. ann._, , , p. ); and c. winkler (_berichte_, , xxiv. ) obtained it by heating the dioxide with magnesium powder. the metal has somewhat the appearance of iron, and has a specific gravity of . , which, after melting, is increased to . . its specific heat is . (w.f. hillebrand). it is permanent in dry air, but tarnishes in moist air; it can be hammered and rolled; it melts at ° c. it burns readily on heating, with a brilliant flame; and it also combines with chlorine, bromine, iodine, sulphur, phosphorus and cyanogen. in the case of the two former elements the combination is accompanied by combustion of the metal. with water it is slowly converted into the dioxide. cold concentrated nitric and sulphuric acids are without action on the metal, but it reacts rapidly with dilute nitric and hydrochloric acids. the dioxide is used in incandescent gas mantles (see lighting). three oxides of cerium are known. the sesquioxide, ce o , is obtained by heating the carbonate in a current of hydrogen. it is a bluish-green powder, which on exposure rapidly combines with the oxygen of the air. by the addition of caustic soda to cerous salts, a white precipitate of cerous hydroxide is formed. cerium dioxide, ceo , is produced when cerium carbonate, nitrate, sulphate or oxalate is heated in air. it is a white or pale yellow compound, which becomes reddish on heating. its specific gravity is . , and its specific heat . . it is not reduced to the metallic condition on heating with carbon. concentrated sulphuric acid dissolves this oxide, forming a yellowish solution and ozone. by suspending the precipitated cerous hydroxide in water and passing chlorine through the solution, a hydrated form of the dioxide, ceo · h o, is obtained, which is readily soluble in nitric and sulphuric acids, forming ceric salts, and in hydrochloric acid, where it forms cerous chloride, with liberation of chlorine. a higher hydrated oxide, ceo ·xh o, is formed by the interaction of cerous sulphate with sodium acetate and hydrogen peroxide (lecoq de boisbaudran, _comptes rendus_, , , p. ). cerous chloride, cecl , is obtained when the metal is burned in chlorine; when a mixture of cerous oxide and carbon is heated in chlorine; or by rapid heating of the dioxide in a stream of carbon monoxide and chlorine. it is a colourless substance, which is easily fusible. a hydrated chloride of composition cecl · h o is also known, and is obtained when a solution of cerous oxide in hydrochloric acid is evaporated over sulphuric acid. double salts of cerous chloride with stannic chloride, mercuric chloride, and platinic chloride are also known. cerous bromide, cebr · h o, and iodide, cei · h o, are known. cerous sulphide, ce s , results on heating cerium with sulphur or cerium oxide in carbon bisulphide vapour. it is a red infusible mass of specific gravity . , and is slowly decomposed by warm water. the sulphate, ce (so ) , is formed on dissolving the carbonate in sulphuric acid, or on dissolving the basic sulphate in sulphuric acid, in the presence of sulphur dioxide, evaporating the solution, and drying the product obtained, at high temperature (b. brauner, _monatshefte_, , vi. ). it is a white powder of specific gravity . , easily soluble in cold water. many hydrated forms of the sulphate are known, as are also double salts of the sulphate with potassium, sodium, ammonium, thallium and cadmium sulphates. ceric fluoride, cef ·h o, is obtained when the hydrated dioxide is dissolved in hydrofluoric acid and the solution evaporated on the water bath (b. brauner). the sulphate, ce(so ) · h o, is formed when the basic sulphate is dissolved in sulphuric acid; or when the dioxide is dissolved in dilute sulphuric acid, and evaporated _in vacuo_ over sulphuric acid. it forms yellow crystals soluble in water; the aqueous solution on standing gradually depositing a basic salt. double sulphates of composition ce(so ) · k so · h o, ce(so ) · (nh ) so · h o are known. nitrates of cerium have been described, as have also phosphates, carbonates and a carbide. cerium compounds may be recognized by the red precipitate of ceric hydroxide, which is formed when sodium hypochlorite is added to a colourless cerous salt. for the quantitative determination of the metal, the salts are precipitated by caustic potash, the precipitate washed, dried and heated, and finally weighed as the dioxide. the atomic weight of cerium has been determined by b. brauner (_chem. news_, , lxxi. ) from the analysis of the oxalate; the values obtained varying from . to . . cernuschi, henri ( - ), italian politician and economist, was born of wealthy parents at milan in , and was destined for the legal profession. during his studies he became involved in the revolutionary movement. he played a conspicuous part in the insurrection at milan in , and also at rome in , where he had a seat in the national assembly. on the collapse of the revolutionary government he was arrested ( ), but managed to escape to france, where he engaged in commerce and banking, became naturalized, and acquired a large fortune. he took a prominent part in opposing the socialist movement, and in april , having subscribed a large sum to the funds of a committee formed to combat the napoleonic plebiscite, had to leave the country. in september the formation of the third republic enabled him to return, but he soon left paris to travel in the east, whence he returned with a fine art collection, particularly of japanese objects. cernuschi is best known for his publications on financial questions, more especially bimetallism. of the latter he was an ardent champion, and the word itself is commonly supposed to have originated with him--at least in its english form it is first found in his _silver vindicated_ ( ). among his other works may be mentioned: _mécanique de l'échange_ ( ); _illusion des sociétés coopératives_ ( ); _le bimétallisme en angleterre_ ( ); _le grand procès de l'union latine_ ( ). he died at mentone on the th of may . cerography (from the gr. [greek: kêros], wax, and [greek: graphein], to write), the art of painting in wax. (see encaustic painting.) cerro de pasco, or pasco, a mining town of peru, capital of the department of junin, m. ( m. by rail, via oroya) n.e. of lima. pop. ( est.) , . it is situated on the plateau of bombon, , ft. above sea-level, and in the midst of one of the oldest and richest silver-mining districts of peru. there were silver mines in this district in , and at the end of the th century the average annual output since the discovery of the mines in was estimated at , , oz. a decline in the silver production having set in, the american company which had become owners of three-fourths of the mining properties in the district turned its attention to the extensive copper deposits there, built a railway to oroya m. distant, another, m. long, to the coal-fields of gollarisquisga, north of pasco, and then erected large smelting works (in which men were regularly employed in ) m. out of town and m. from limestone beds. the railway to oroya was completed in , the coal mine branch and smelter later on, and in the copper output was , , lb. the town of pasco is badly built and unattractive, and is inhabited chiefly by mining labourers and their families. its population is increased % in times of great mining activity. the name cerro de pasco is that of a "knot" of mountains uniting the two great ranges of the andes at this point. certaldo, a town of tuscany, italy, in the province of florence, m. s.s.w. by rail and m. direct from the town of florence. pop. ( ) town, ; commune, . it was the home of the family of giovanni boccaccio, who died and was buried here in . his house (of red brick, like the other old houses of the town) was restored in and fitted up with old furniture. a statue of him was erected in the principal square in . the palazzo pretorio, or vicariale, the residence of the florentine governors, recently restored to its original condition, has a picturesque facade and court adorned with coats of arms, and in the interior are various frescoes dating from the th to the th century. the town as a whole is picturesque, and lies on a hill ft. above sea-level. see r. pantini, _s. gimignano e certaldo_ (bergamo, ), p. seq. cerussite, a mineral consisting of lead carbonate (pbco ), and an important ore of lead. the name (sometimes erroneously spelt cerusite) is from the lat. _cerussa_, "white lead." "cerussa nativa" was mentioned by k. gesner in , and in f.s. beudant applied the name céruse to the mineral, whilst the present form, cerussite, is due to w. haidinger ( ). popular names in early use were lead-spar and white-lead-ore. [illustration: fig. ] cerussite crystallizes in the orthorhombic system and is isomorphous with aragonite. like aragonite it is very frequently twinned, the compound crystals being pseudo-hexagonal in form. three crystals are usually twinned together on two faces of the prism m{ }, producing six-rayed stellate groups (figs, and ) with the individual crystals intercrossing at angles of nearly °. twinning on the faces of the prism r{ }, the angles of which are also nearly °, produces a similar kind of grouping, but is much less common. crystals are of frequent occurrence, and they usually have very bright and smooth faces. the mineral also occurs in compact granular masses, and sometimes in fibrous forms. it is usually colourless or white, sometimes grey or greenish in tint; it varies from transparent to translucent, and has an adamantine lustre. it is very brittle, and has a conchoidal fracture. hardness - ½; sp. gr. . . a variety containing % of zinc carbonate, replacing lead carbonate, is known as iglesiasite, from iglesias in sardinia, where it is found. [illustration: fig. .] the mineral may be readily recognized by its characteristic twinning, in conjunction with the adamantine lustre and high specific gravity. it dissolves with effervescence in dilute nitric acid. before the blow-pipe it fuses very readily, and gives reactions for lead. cerussite occurs in metalliferous veins in association with galena, and has been formed by the action of carbonated waters on the galena; it is therefore found in the upper parts of the lodes together with other secondary minerals, such as limonite. finely crystallized specimens have been obtained from the friedrichssegen mine near ems in nassau, johanngeorgenstadt in saxony, mies in bohemia, phenixville in pennsylvania, broken hill in new south wales, and several other localities. delicate acicular crystals of considerable length were found long ago in the pentire glaze mine near st minver in cornwall. it is often found in considerable quantities, and contains as much as ½% of lead. (l. j. s.) cerutti, giuseppe antonio giachimo ( - ), french author and politician, was born at turin on the th of june . he joined the society of jesus and became professor at the jesuit college at lyons. in , in reply to the attacks on his order, he published an _apologie générale de l'institut et de la doctrine des jésuites_, which won him much fame and some exalted patronage; notably that of the ex-king stanislaus of poland and of his grandson the dauphin. during the agitations that preceded the revolution cerutti took the popular side, and in published a pamphlet, _mémoire pour le peuple français_, in which in a clear and trenchant style he advocated the claims of the _tiers état_. in may he presided over the electors of paris, by whom in january he was chosen member of the administration of the department and afterwards deputy to the legislative assembly. he was a friend of mirabeau, whose policy he supported and whose funeral oration he pronounced. he himself died on the rd of february . of cerutti's literary enterprises the most interesting, and probably the most influential, was the popular newspaper founded by him, on the th of september , in collaboration with rabaut saint-Étienne and philippe antoine grouvelle. its character and objects are explained by its title: _la feuille villageoise, adressée chaque semaine à tous les villages de france pour les instruire des lois, des événements, des découvertes qui interessent tout ban citoyen, &c._ it was continued by grouvelle after cerutti's death, the last number appearing on the nd of august . cerutti's works were published in in volumes. on the _mémoire pour le peuple français_, see f.a. aulard in _la révolution française_, tom. xv. ( ). cervantes saavedra, miguel de ( - ), spanish novelist, playwright and poet, was born at alcalá de henares in . the attempts of biographers to provide him with an illustrious genealogy are unsuccessful. the family history begins with the author's grandfather, juan de cervantes (b. ), a lawyer who at one time ( - ) administered the estates of the duke de osuna, and resided later at cordova, where he died about . cervantes' father was rodrigo de cervantes, an apothecary-surgeon, who married leonor de cortinas in or . the children of this marriage were andrés (b. ), andrea (b. ), luisa (b. ), miguel, rodrigo (b. ), magdalena (b. ) and juan (of whom nothing is known beyond the mention of him in his father's will). the exact date of cervantes' birth is not recorded: he was baptized on the th of october , in the church of santa maria la mayor at alcalá. there are indications that rodrigo de cervantes resided at valladolid in , at madrid in , at seville in - , and at madrid from onwards. it may be assumed that his family accompanied him, and it seems likely that either at valladolid or at madrid cervantes saw the famous actor-manager and dramatist, lope de rueda, of whose performances he speaks enthusiastically in the preface to his plays. in a madrid schoolmaster, juan lopez de hoyos, issued a work commemorative of philip ii.'s third wife, isabel de valois, who had died on the rd of october . this volume, entitled _historia y relación verdadera de la enfermedad, felicisimo tránsito y sumptuosas exequias fúnebres de la serenisima reyna de españia doña isabel de valoys_, contains six contributions by cervantes: a sonnet, four _redondillas_, and an elegy. lopez de hoyos introduces cervantes as "our dear and beloved pupil," and the elegy is dedicated to cardinal espinosa "in the name of the whole school." it has been inferred that cervantes was educated by lopez de hoyos, but this conclusion is untenable, for lopez de hoyos' school was not opened till . on the th of october , giulio acquaviva reached madrid charged with a special mission to philip ii.; he left for rome on the nd of december, and cervantes is supposed to have accompanied him. this conjecture is based solely on a passage in the dedication of the _galatea_, where the writer speaks of having been "_camarero_ to cardinal acquaviva at rome." there is, however, no reason to think that cervantes met acquaviva in madrid; the probability is that he enlisted as a supernumerary towards the end of , that he served in italy, and there entered the household of acquaviva, who had been raised to the cardinalate on the th of may . there exists a warrant (dated september , ) for the arrest of one miguel de cervantes, who had wounded antonio de sigura, and had been condemned in absence to have his right hand cut off and to be exiled from the capital for ten years; and it has been sought to identify the offender with the future author of _don quixote_. no evidence is available. all that is known with certainty is that cervantes was in rome at the end of , for on the nd of december of that year the fact was recorded in an official information lodged by rodrigo de cervantes with a view to proving his son's legitimacy and untainted christian descent. if it is difficult to say precisely when cervantes was in acquaviva's service, it is no less difficult to say when he left it to join the regular army. there is evidence, more or less satisfactory, that his enlistment took place in ; in he was serving as a private in the company commanded by captain diego de urbina which formed part of miguel de moncada's famous regiment, and on the th of september he sailed from messina on board the "marquesa," which formed part of the armada under don john of austria. at the battle of lepanto (october , ) the "marquesa" was in the thickest of the conflict. as the fleet came into action cervantes lay below, ill with fever; but, despite the remonstrances of his comrades, he vehemently insisted on rising to take his share in the fighting, and was posted with twelve men under him in a boat by the galley's side. he received three gunshot wounds, two in the chest, and one which permanently maimed his right hand--"for the greater glory of the right," in his own phrase. on the th of october the fleet returned to messina, where cervantes went into hospital, and during his convalescence received grants-in-aid amounting to eighty-two ducats. on the th of april he was transferred to captain manuel ponce de león's company in lope de figueroa's regiment; he shared in the indecisive naval engagement off navarino on the th of october , in the capture of tunis on the th of october , and in the unsuccessful expedition to relieve the goletta in the autumn of . the rest of his military service was spent in garrison at palermo and naples, and shortly after the arrival of don john at naples on the th of june , cervantes was granted leave to return to spain; he received a recommendatory letter from don john to philip ii., and a similar testimonial from the duke de sessa, viceroy of sicily. armed with these credentials, cervantes embarked on the "sol" to push his claim for promotion in spain. on the th of september , near les trois maries off the coast of marseilles, the "sol" and its companion ships the "mendoza" and the "higuera" encountered a squadron of barbary corsairs under arnaut mami; cervantes, his brother rodrigo and other spaniards were captured, and were taken as prisoners to algiers. cervantes became the slave of a greek renegade named dali mami, and, as the letters found on him were taken to prove that he was a man of importance in a position to pay a high ransom, he was put under special surveillance. with undaunted courage and persistence he organized plans of escape. in he induced a moor to guide him and other christian captives to oran; the moor deserted them on the road, the baffled fugitives returned to algiers, and cervantes was treated with additional severity. in the spring of two priests of the order of mercy arrived in algiers with a sum of three hundred crowns entrusted to them by cervantes' parents; the amount was insufficient to free him, and was spent in ransoming his brother rodrigo. cervantes made another attempt to escape in september , but was betrayed by the renegade whose services he had enlisted. on being brought before hassan pasha, the viceroy of algiers, he took the blame on himself, and was threatened with death; struck, however, by the heroic bearing of the prisoner, hassan remitted the sentence, and bought cervantes from dali mami for five hundred crowns. in the captive addressed to the spanish secretary of state, mateo vazquez, a versified letter suggesting that an expedition should be fitted out to seize algiers; the project, though practicable, was not entertained. in cervantes was sentenced to two thousand strokes for sending a letter begging help from martín de córdoba, governor of oran; the punishment was not, however, inflicted on him. meanwhile his family were not idle. in march his father presented a petition to the king setting forth cervantes' services; the duke de sessa repeated his testimony to the captive's merits; in the spring of cervantes' mother applied for leave to export two thousand ducats' worth of goods from valencia to algiers, and on the st of july she gave the trinitarian monks, juan gil and antón de la bella, a sum of two hundred and fifty ducats to be applied to her son's ransom. on his side cervantes was indefatigable, and towards the end of he arranged to secure a frigate; but the plot was revealed to hassan by juan blanco de paz, a dominican monk, who appears to have conceived an unaccountable hatred of cervantes. once more the conspirator's life was spared by hassan who, it is recorded, declared that "so long as he had the maimed spaniard in safe keeping, his christians, ships and city were secure." on the th of may the two trinitarians arrived in algiers: they were barely in time, for hassan's term of office was drawing to a close, and the arrangement of any ransom was a slow process, involving much patient bargaining. hassan refused to accept less than five hundred gold ducats for his slave; the available funds fell short of this amount, and the balance was collected from the christian traders of algiers. cervantes was already embarked for constantinople when the money was paid on the th of september . the first use that he made of his liberty was to cause affidavits of his proceedings at algiers to be drawn up; he sailed for spain towards the end of october, landed at denia in november, and made his way to madrid. he signed an information before a notary in that city on the th of december . these dates prove that he cannot, as is often alleged, have served under alva in the portuguese campaign of : that campaign ended with the battle of alcántara on the th of august . it seems certain, however, that he visited portugal soon after his return from algiers, and in may he was sent from thomar on a mission to oran. construed literally, a formal statement of his services, signed by cervantes on the st of may , makes it appear that he served in the azores campaigns of - ; but the wording of the document is involved, the claims of cervantes are confused with those of his brother rodrigo (who was promoted ensign at the azores), and on the whole it is doubtful if he took part in either of the expeditions under santa cruz. in any case, the stories of his residence in portugal, and of his love affairs with a noble portuguese lady who bore him a daughter, are simple inventions. from - to cervantes seems to have written copiously for the stage, and in the _adjunta al parnaso_ he mentions several of his plays as "worthy of praise"; these were _los tratos de argel, la numancia, la gran turquesa, la batalla naval, la jerusalem, la amaranta ó la de mayo, el bosque amoroso, la unica y bizarra Ársinda_--"and many others which i do not remember, but that which i most prize and pique myself on was, and is, one called _la confusa_ which, with all respect to as many sword-and-cloak plays as have been staged up to the present, may take a prominent place as being good among the best." of these only _los tratos de argel_ (or _el trato de argel_) and _la numancia_ have survived, and, though _la numancia_ contains many fine rhetorical passages, both plays go to prove that the author's genius was not essentially dramatic. in february he obtained a licence to print a pastoral novel entitled _primera parte de la galatea_, the copyright of which he sold on the th of june to blas de robles, a bookseller at alcalá de henares, for _reales_. on the th of december he married catalina de palacios salazar y vozmediano of esquivias, eighteen years his junior. the _galatea_ was published in the spring of , and is frequently said to relate the story of cervantes' courtship, and to introduce various distinguished writers under pastoral names. these assertions must be received with great reserve. the birth of an illegitimate daughter, borne to cervantes by a certain ana francisca de rojas, is referred to , and earlier in that same year the _galatea_ had passed the censor; with few exceptions, the identifications of the characters in the book with personages in real life are purely conjectural. these circumstances, together with the internal evidence of the work, point to the conclusion that the _galatea_ was begun and completed before . it was only twice reprinted--once at lisbon ( ), and once at paris ( )--during the author's lifetime; but it won him a measure of repute, it was his favourite among his books, and during the thirty years that remained to him he repeatedly announced the second part which is promised conditionally in the text. however, it is not greatly to be regretted that the continuation was never published; though the _galatea_ is interesting as the first deliberate bid for fame on the part of a great genius, it is an exercise in the pseudo-classic literature introduced into italy by sannazaro, and transplanted to spain by the portuguese montemõr; and, ingenious or eloquent as the renaissance prose-pastoral may be, its innate artificiality stifles cervantes' rich and glowing realism. he himself recognized its defects; with all his weakness for the _galatea_, he ruefully allows that "it proposes something and concludes nothing." its comparative failure was a serious matter for cervantes who had no other resource but his pen; his plays were probably less successful than his account of them would imply, and at any rate play-writing was not at this time a lucrative occupation in spain. no doubt the death of his father on the th of june increased the burden of cervantes' responsibilities; and the dowry of his wife, as appears from a document dated the th of august , consisted of nothing more valuable than five vines, an orchard, some household furniture, four beehives, forty-five hens and chickens, one cock and a crucible. it had become evident that cervantes could not gain his bread by literature, and in he went to seville to seek employment in connexion with the provisioning of the invincible armada. he was placed under the orders of antonio de guevara, and before the th of february was excommunicated for excessive zeal in collecting wheat at Écija. during the next few months he was engaged in gathering stores at seville and the adjacent district, and after the defeat of the armada he was retained as commissary to the galleys. tired of the drudgery, and without any prospect of advancement, on the st of may cervantes drew up a petition to the king, recording his services and applying for one of four posts then vacant in the american colonies: a place in the department of public accounts in new granada, the governorship of soconusco in guatemala, the position of auditor to the galleys at cartagena, or that of _corregidor_ in the city of la paz. the petition was referred to the council of the indies, and was annotated with the words:--"let him look for something nearer home." cervantes perforce remained at his post; the work was hard, uncongenial and ill-paid, and the salary was in constant arrears. in november he was in such straits that he borrowed money to buy himself a suit of clothes, and in august his sureties were called upon to make good a deficiency of _reales_ in his accounts. his thoughts turned to literature once more, and on the th of september , he signed a contract with rodrigo osorio undertaking to write six plays at fifty ducats each, no payment to be made unless osorio considered that each of these pieces was "one of the best ever produced in spain." nothing came of this agreement, and it appears that, between the date of signing it and the th of september, cervantes was imprisoned (for reasons unknown to us) at castro del río. he was speedily released, and continued to perquisition as before in andalusia; but his literary ambitions were not dead, and in may he won the first prize--three silver spoons--at a poetical tourney held in honour of st hyacinth at saragossa. shortly afterwards cervantes found himself in difficulties with the exchequer officials. he entrusted a sum of _reales_ to a merchant named simón freire de lima with instructions to pay the amount into the treasury at madrid; the agent became bankrupt and absconded, leaving cervantes responsible for the deficit. by some means the money was raised, and the debt was liquidated on the st of january . but cervantes' position was shaken, and his unbusinesslike habits lent themselves to misinterpretation. on the th of september he was ordered to find sureties that he would present himself at madrid within twenty days, and there submit to the exchequer vouchers for all official moneys collected by him in granada and elsewhere. no such sureties being available, he was committed to seville jail, but was released on the st of december on condition that he complied with the original order of the court within thirty days. he was apparently unable to find bail, was dismissed from the public service, and sank into extreme poverty. during a momentary absence from seville in february , he was again summoned to madrid by the treasury, but does not appear to have obeyed: it is only too likely that he had not the money to pay for the journey. there is some reason to think that he was imprisoned at seville in , but nothing positive is known of his existence between and the th of february : at the latter date he seems to have been at valladolid, to which city philip iii. had removed the court in . since the publication of the _galatea_ in cervantes' contributions to literature had been limited to occasional poems. in he published a ballad in andrés de villalta's _flor de varios y nuevos romances_; in he composed a poem, already mentioned, to celebrate the canonization of st hyacinth; in he wrote a sonnet ridiculing medina sidonia's tardy entry into cadiz after the english invaders had retired, and in the same year his sonnet lauding santa cruz was printed in cristóbal. mosquera de figueroa's _comentario en breve compendio de disciplina militar_; to is assigned a sonnet (the authenticity of which is disputed) commemorative of the poet herrera; in he wrote two sonnets and a copy of _quintillas_ on the death of philip ii.; and in a complimentary sonnet from his pen appeared in the second edition of lope de vega's _dragontea_. curiously enough, it is by lope de vega that _don quixote_ is first mentioned. writing to an unknown correspondent (apparently a physician) on the th of august , lope de vega says that "no poet is as bad as cervantes, nor so foolish as to praise _don quixote_," and he goes on to speak of his own plays as being odious to cervantes. it is obvious that the two men had quarrelled since , and that lope de vega smarted under the satire of himself and his works in cervantes' forthcoming book; _don quixote_ may have been circulated in manuscript, or may even have been printed before the official licence was granted on the th of september . it was published early in , and was dedicated to the seventh duke de béjar in phrases largely borrowed from the dedication in herrera's edition ( ) of garcilaso de la vega, and from francisco de medina's preface to that work. the mention of bernardo de la vega's _pastor de iberia_ shows that the sixth chapter of _don quixote_ cannot have been written before . in the prologue cervantes describes his masterpiece as being "just what might be begotten in a jail"; on the strength of this passage, it has been thought that he conceived the story, and perhaps began writing it, during one of his terms of imprisonment at seville between and . within a few weeks of its publication at madrid, three pirated editions of _don quixote_ were issued at lisbon; a second authorized edition, imperfectly revised, was hurried out at madrid; and another reprint appeared at valencia with an _aprobación_ dated th july . with the exception of alemán's _guzmán de alfarache_, no spanish book of the period was more successful. modern criticism is prone to regard _don quixote_ as a symbolic, didactic or controversial work intended to bring about radical reforms in church and state. such interpretations did not occur to cervantes' contemporaries, nor to cervantes himself. there is no reason for rejecting his plain statement that his main object was to ridicule the romances of chivalry, which in their latest developments had become a tissue of tiresome absurdities. it seems clear that his first intention was merely to parody these extravagances in a short story; but as he proceeded the immense possibilities of the subject became more evident to him, and he ended by expanding his work into a brilliant panorama of spanish society as it existed during the th century. nobles, knights, poets, courtly gentlemen, priests, traders, farmers, barbers, muleteers, scullions and convicts; accomplished ladies, impassioned damsels, moorish beauties, simple-hearted country-girls and kindly kitchen-wenches of questionable morals--all these are presented with the genial fidelity which comes of sympathetic insight. the immediate vogue of _don quixote_ was due chiefly to its variety of incident, to its wealth of comedy bordering on farce, and perhaps also to its keen thrusts at eminent contemporaries; its reticent pathos, its large humanity, and its penetrating criticism of life were less speedily appreciated. meanwhile, on the th of april , cervantes authorized his publisher to proceed against the lisbon booksellers who threatened to introduce their piratical reprints into castile. by june the citizens of valladolid already regarded don quixote and sancho panza as proverbial types. less gratifying experiences awaited the popular author. on the th of june gaspar de ezpeleta, a navarrese gentleman of dissolute life, was wounded outside the lodging-house in which cervantes and his family lived; he was taken indoors, was nursed by cervantes' sister magdalena, and died on the th of june. that same day cervantes, his natural daughter (isabel de saavedra), his sister andrea and her daughter were lodged in jail on suspicion of being indirectly concerned in ezpeleta's death; one of the witnesses made damaging charges against cervantes' daughter, but no substantial evidence was produced, and the prisoners were released. little is known of cervantes' life between and . a _relación_ of the festivities held to celebrate the birth of philip iv., and a certain _carta á don diego astudillo carrillo_ have been erroneously ascribed to him; during these three years he apparently wrote nothing beyond three sonnets, and one of these is of doubtful authenticity. the depositions of the valladolid enquiry show that he was living in poverty five months after the appearance of _don quixote_, and the fact that he borrowed _reales_ from his publisher before november would convey the idea that his position improved slowly, if at all. but it is difficult to reconcile this view of his circumstances with the details concerning his illegitimate daughter revealed in documents recently discovered. isabel de saavedra was stated to be a spinster when arrested at valladolid in june ; the settlement of her marriage with luis de molina in describes her as the widow of diego sanz, as the mother of a daughter eight months old, and as owning house-property of some value. these particulars are perplexing, and the situation is further complicated by the publication of a deed in which cervantes declares that he himself is the real owner of this house-property, and that his daughter has merely a life-interest in it. this claim may be regarded as a legal fiction; it cannot easily be reconciled with cervantes' statement towards the end of his life, that he was dependent on the bounty of the count de lemos and of bernardo de sandoval, cardinal-archbishop of toledo. in he joined the newly founded confraternity of the slaves of the most blessed sacrament; in lemos was appointed viceroy of naples, and cervantes was keenly disappointed at not being chosen to accompany his patron. in he lost his sister magdalena, who was buried by the charity of the tertiaries of saint francis; in he joined the academia selvaje, and there appears to have renewed his former friendly relations with lope de vega; in he dedicated his _novelas exemplares_ to the count de lemos, and disposed of his rights for _reales_ and twenty-four copies of the book. the twelve tales in this volume, some of them written very much later than others, are of unequal merit, but they contain some of the writer's best work, and the two picaresque stories--_rinconete y cortadillo_ and the _coloquio de los perros_--are superb examples of their kind, and would alone entitle cervantes to take rank with the greatest masters of spanish prose. in he published the _viage del parnaso_, a burlesque poem suggested by the _viaggio in parnaso_ ( ) of the perugian poet cesare caporali. it contains some interesting autobiographical passages, much flattery of contemporary poetasters, and a few happy satirical touches; but, though it is cervantes' most serious bid for fame as a poet, it has seldom been reprinted, and would probably have been forgotten but for an admirably humorous postscript in prose which is worthy of the author at his best. in the preface to his _ocho comedias y ocho entremeses nuevos_ ( ) he good-humouredly admits that his dramatic works found no favour with managers, and, when this collection was first reprinted ( ), the editor advanced the fantastic theory that the _comedias_ were deliberate exercises in absurdity, intended to parody the popular dramas of the day. this view cannot be maintained, but a sharp distinction must be drawn between the eight set plays and the eight interludes; with one or two exceptions, the _comedias_ or set plays are unsuccessful experiments in lope de vega's manner, while the _entremeses_ or _interludes_, particularly those in prose, are models of spontaneous gaiety and ingenious wit. in the preface to the _novelas exemplares_ cervantes had announced the speedy appearance of the sequel to _don quixote_ which he had vaguely promised at the end of the first part. he was at work on the fifty-ninth chapter of his continuation when he learned that he had been anticipated by alonso fernandez de avellaneda of tordesillas, whose _segunde tamo del ingenioso hidalgo don quixote de la mancha_ was published at tarragona in . on the assumption that fernandez de avellaneda is a pseudonym, this spurious sequel has been ascribed to the king's confessor, luis de aliaga, to cervantes' old enemy, blanco de paz, to his old friend, bartolomé leonardo de argensola, to the three great dramatists, lope de vega, tirso de molina and ruiz de alarcón, to alonso fernandez, to juan josé martí, to alfonso lamberto, to luis de granada, and probably to others. some of these attributions are manifestly absurd--for example, luis de granada died seventeen years before the first part of _don quixote_ was published--and all of them are improbable conjectures; if avellaneda be not the real name of the author, his identity is still undiscovered. his book is not devoid of literary talent and robust humour, and possibly he began it under the impression that cervantes was no more likely to finish _don quixote_ than to finish the _galatea_. he should, however, have abandoned his project on reading the announcement in the preface to the _novelas exemplares_; what he actually did was to disgrace himself by writing an insolent preface taunting cervantes with his physical defects, his moral infirmities, his age, loneliness and experiences in jail. he was too intelligent to imagine that his continuation could hold its own against the authentic sequel, and malignantly avowed his intention of being first in the field and so spoiling cervantes' market. it is quite possible that _don quixote_ might have been left incomplete but for this insulting intrusion; cervantes was a leisurely writer and was, as he states, engaged on _el engaño à los ojos, las semanas del jardín_ and _el famoso bernardo_, none of which have been preserved. avellaneda forced him to concentrate his attention on his masterpiece, and the authentic second part of _don quixote_ appeared towards the end of . no book more signally contradicts the maxim, quoted by the bachelor carrasco, that "no second part was ever good." it is true that the last fourteen chapters are damaged by undignified denunciations of avellaneda; but, apart from this, the second part of _don quixote_ is an improvement on the first. the humour is more subtle and mature; the style is of more even excellence; and the characters of the bachelor and of the physician, pedro recio de agüero, are presented with a more vivid effect than any of the secondary characters in the first part. cervantes had clearly profited by the criticism of those who objected to "the countless cudgellings inflicted on señor don quixote," and to the irrelevant interpolation of extraneous stories in the text. don quixote moves through the second part with unruffled dignity; sancho panza loses something of his rustic cunning, but he gains in wit, sense and manners. the original conception is unchanged in essentials, but it is more logically developed, and there is a notable progress in construction. cervantes had grown to love his knight and squire, and he understood his own creations better than at the outset; more completely master of his craft, he wrote his sequel with the unfaltering confidence of a renowned artist bent on sustaining his reputation. the first part of _don quixote_ had been reprinted at madrid in ; it had been produced at brussels in and , and at milan in ; it had been translated into english in and into french in . cervantes was celebrated in and out of spain, but his celebrity had not brought him wealth. the members of the french special embassy, sent to madrid in february , under the commandeur de sillery, heard with amazement that the author of the _galatea_, the _novelas exemplares_ and _don quixote_ was "old, a soldier, a gentleman and poor." but his trials were almost at an end. though failing in health, he worked assiduously at _los trabajos de persiles y sigismunda_, which, as he had jocosely prophesied in the preface to the second part of _don quixote_, would be "either the worst or the best book ever written in our tongue." it is the most carefully written of his prose works, and the least animated or attractive of them; signs of fatigue and of waning powers are unmistakably visible. cervantes was not destined to see it in print. he was attacked by dropsy, and, on the th of april , received the sacrament of extreme unction; next day he wrote the dedication of _persiles y sigismunda_ to the count de lemos--the most moving and gallant of farewells. he died at madrid in the calle del león on the rd of april; he was borne from his house "with his face uncovered," according to the rule of the tertiaries of st francis, and on the th of april was buried in the church attached to the convent of the trinitarian nuns in the calle de cantarranas. there he rests--the story of his remains being removed in to the calle del humilladero has no foundation in fact--but the exact position of his grave is unknown. early in _persiles y sigismunda_ was published, and passed through eight editions within two years; but the interest in it soon died away, and it was not reprinted between and . cervantes' wife died without issue on the st of october ; his natural daughter, who survived both the child of her first marriage and her second husband, died on the th of september . cervantes is represented solely by his works. the _novelas exemplares_ alone would give him the foremost place among spanish novelists; _don quixote_ entitles him to rank with the greatest writers of all time: "children turn its leaves, young people read it, grown men understand it, old folk praise it." it has outlived all changes of literary taste, and is even more popular to-day than it was three centuries ago. bibliography.--leopold rius, _bibliografía crítica de las obras de miguel de cervantes saavedra_ (madrid, - , vols.); _obras completas_ (madrid, - , vols.), edited by juan eugenio hartzenbusch; _complete works_ (glasgow, - , vols. in progress), edited by james fitzmaurice-kelly; _don quijote_ (madrid, - , vols.), edited by diego clemencíu; _don quixote_ (london, - , vols.), edited by james fitzmaurice-kelly and john ormsby; _don quijote_ (madrid, - , vols. in progress), edited by clemente cortejón; _rinconete y cortadillo_ (sevilla, ), edited by francisco rodriguez marín; _epístola á mateo vázquez_ (madrid, ), edited by e[milio] c[otarelo]; julián apráiz, _estudio histórico-crítico sobre las novelas ejemplares de cervantes_ (madrid, ); francisco a. de icaza, _las novelas ejemplares de cervantes_ (madrid, ); francisco rodríguez marín, _el loaysa de "el celoso extremeño"_ (sevilla, ); narciso díaz de escovar, _apuntes escénicos cervantinos_ (madrid, ); manuel josé garcía, _estudio crítico acerca del entremés "el vizcaino fingido"_ (madrid, ); alfred morel-fatio, _l'espagne de don quichotte_ in _Études sur l'espagne_ (paris, , me série); julio puyol y alonso, _estado social que refleja "el quijote"_ (madrid, ); james fitzmaurice-kelly, _cervantes in england_ (london, ); raymond foulché-delbose, _Étude sur "la tia fingida,"_ in the _revue hispanique_ (paris, ), vol. vi. pp. - ; benedetto croce, _due illustrazioni al "viage del parnaso,"_ in the _homenaje á menéndez y pelayo_ (madrid, ), vol. i. pp. - ; paul groussac, _une Énigme littéraire: le don quichotte d'avellaneda_ (paris, ); alonso fernández de avellaneda, _el ingenioso hidalgo don quixote de la mancha_ (barcelona, [ ]), edited by marcelino menéndez y pelayo; julio cejador y franca, _la lengua de cervantes_ (madrid, , &c.); martin fernández de navarrete, _vida de miguel de cervantes saavedra_ (madrid, ); cristóbal perez pastor, _documentos cervantinos hasta ahora inéditos_ (madrid, - , vols.); emilio cotardo y mori, _efemérides cervantinas_ (madrid, ); francisco rodríguez marín, _cervantes estudió en sevilla, - _ (seville, ). (j. f.-k.) cervera, pascual cervera y topete ( - ), spanish admiral, was born at medina sidonia on the th of february . he showed an early inclination for the sea, and his family sent him to the naval cadet school at the age of twelve. as a sub-lieutenant he took part in the naval operations on the coast of morocco during the campaign of - . then he was for some time engaged in operations in the sulu islands and the philippines. afterwards he was on the west indian station during the early part of the first cuban war ( - ), returning to spain in to serve on the basque coast against the carlists. he distinguished himself in defending the carraca arsenal near cadiz against the federals in . he won each step in his promotion up to flag-rank through his steadiness and brilliant conduct in action, and was awarded the crosses of the orders of military and naval merit, isabella the catholic, and st hermengilde, besides several medals. cervera had a great reputation for decision, unbending temper and honesty, before he was placed at the head of the bilbao building-yards. this post he resigned after a few months in order to become minister of marine in , in a cabinet presided over by sagasta. he withdrew from the cabinet when he found that his colleagues, from political motives, declined to support him in making reforms and, on the other hand, unwisely cut down the naval estimates. when in the spanish-american war (q.v.) broke out, he was chosen to command a squadron composed of four first-class cruisers, the "maria theresa," his flagship, "oquendo," "vizcaya," and "columbus," and several destroyers. this ill-fated squadron only started upon its reckless cruise across the ocean after its gallant commander had repeatedly warned both the minister of marine and the prime minister, sagasta, in despatches from cadiz and from the canary and cape verde islands, that the ships were insufficiently provided with coal and ammunition. some of them, indeed, even lacked proper guns. in compliance with the instructions of the government, admiral cervera made for the landlocked harbour of santiago de cuba, where he co-operated in the defence, landing some guns and a naval brigade. in spite of his energetic representations, cervera received an order from madrid, dictated by political considerations, to sally forth. it meant certain destruction. the gallant squadron met forces trebly superior to it, and was totally destroyed. the admiral, three of his captains, and sailors and marines were taken by the victors to portsmouth, new hampshire, u.s.a. after the war, cervera and his captains were tried before the supreme naval and military court of the realm, which honourably acquitted them all. in he became vice-admiral, in was appointed chief of staff of the spanish navy, and in was made life senator. he died at puerto real on the rd of april . cesarevich, or more properly tsesarevich, the title of the heir-apparent to the russian throne. the full official title is _nasliednik tsesarevich_, i.e. "heir of caesar," and in russia the heir to the throne is commonly called simply _nasliednik_, the word _tsesarevich_ never being used alone. _tsarevich_, a form now much used in england, means simply any "king's son"; it is an antiquated term now out of use in russia, and was last borne as heir to the throne by the unfortunate alexius, son of peter the great. the style of the wife of the tsesarevich is _tsesarevna_. the cesarewitch handicap race at newmarket, founded in , was named after the prince who was afterwards alexander ii. of russia, who paid a state visit to england that year. cesari, giuseppe, called il cavaliere d' arpino (born in or about and created a "cavaliere di cristo" by pope clement viii.), also named il giuseppino, an italian painter, much encouraged at rome and munificently rewarded. his father had been a native of arpino, but giuseppe himself was born in rome. cesari is stigmatized by lanzi as not less the corrupter of taste in painting than marino was in poetry; indeed, another of the nicknames of cesari is "il marino de' pittori" (the pictorial marino). there was spirit in cesari's heads of men and horses, and his frescoes in the capitol (story of romulus and remus, &c.), which occupied him at intervals during forty years, are well coloured; but he drew the human form ill. his perspective is faulty, his extremities monotonous, and his chiaroscuro defective. he died in , at the age of seventy-two, or perhaps of eighty, at rome. cesari ranks as the head of the "idealists" of his period, as opposed to the "naturalists," of whom michelangelo da caravaggio was the leading champion,--the so-called "idealism" consisting more in reckless facility, and disregard of the common facts and common-sense of nature, than in anything to which so lofty a name could be properly accorded. he was a man of touchy and irascible character, and rose from penury to the height of opulence. his brother bernardino assisted in many of his works. cesarotti, melchiore ( - ), italian poet, was born at padua in , of a noble but impoverished family. at the university of his native place his literary progress procured for him at a very early age the chair of rhetoric, and in the professorship of greek and hebrew. on the invasion of italy by the french, he gave his pen to their cause, received a pension, and was made knight of the iron crown by napoleon i., to whom, in consequence, he addressed a bombastic and extravagantly flattering poem called _pronea_. cesarotti is best known as the translator of homer and ossian. much praise cannot be given to his version of the _iliad_, for he has not scrupled to add, omit and modernize. ossian, which he held to be the finest of poems, he has, on the other hand, considerably improved in translation; and the appearance of his version attracted much attention in italy and france, and raised up many imitators of the ossianic style. cesarotti also produced a number of works in prose, including a _course of greek literature_, and essays _on the origin and progress of the poetic art_, _on the sources of the pleasure derived from tragedy_, _on the philosophy of language_ and _on the philosophy of taste_, the last being a defence of his own great eccentricities in criticism. his weakness was a straining after novelty. his style is forcible, but full of gallicisms. a complete edition of his works, in vols. vo. began to appear at pisa in , and was completed in , after his death. see _memoirs_, by barbieri (padua, ), and _un filosofo delle lettere_, by alemanni (turin, ). cesena (anc. _caesena_), a town and episcopal see of emilia, italy, in the province of forlì, m. s.e. by rail from the town of forlì, on the line between bologna and rimini, ft. above sea-level. pop. ( ) , (town); , (commune). the town is picturesquely situated at the foot of the slopes of the apennines, and is crowned by a medieval fortress (rocca), begun by the emperor frederick i. (barbarossa) probably, but altered and added to later. the cathedral has two fine marble altars by the lombardi of venice (or their school). the library, built for domenico malatesta in by matteo nuzio, is a fine early renaissance building, and its internal arrangements, with the original desks to which the books are still chained, are especially well preserved (see j.w. clark, _the care of books_, cambridge, , p. ). in it are valuable mss., many of which were used by aldus manutius. it also contains a picture gallery with a good "presentation in the temple" by francesco francia. there are some fine palaces in the town. three-quarters of a mile south-east on the hill stands the handsome church of s. maria del monte, after the style of bramante, with carved stalls of the th century. wine, hemp and silk are the main articles of trade. about the ancient caesena little is said in classical authors: it is mentioned as a station on the via aemilia and as a fortress in the wars of theodoric and narses. during the middle ages it was at first independent. in it was unsuccessfully defended by the wife of francesco ordelaffi, lord of forlì, against the papal troops under albornoz. in it was sacked by cardinal robert of geneva (afterwards clement vii., antipope). it was then held by the malatesta of rimini until , when it came under the dominion of the church. both pius vi. ( ) and pius vii. ( ) were born at cesena. (t. as.) cesnola, luigi palma di ( - ), italian-american soldier and archaeologist, was born near turin on the th of july . having served in the austrian and crimean wars, in he went to new york, where he taught italian and french and founded a military school for officers. he took part in the american civil war as colonel of a cavalry regiment, and at aldie (june ) was wounded and taken prisoner. he was released from libby prison early in , served in the wilderness and petersburg campaigns ( - ) as a brigadier of cavalry, and at the close of the war was breveted brigadier-general. he was then appointed united states consul at larnaca in cyprus ( - ). during his stay in the island he carried on excavations, which resulted in the discovery of a large number of antiquities. the collection was purchased by the metropolitan museum of new york, and cesnola became director in . doubt having been thrown by gaston l. feuerdant, in an article in the new york _herald_ (august ), upon the genuineness of his restorations, the matter was referred to a special committee, which pronounced in his favour.[ ] he is the author of _cyprus, its ancient cities, tombs and temples_ ( ), an interesting book of travel and of considerable service to the practical antiquary; and of a _descriptive atlas of the cesnola collection of cypriote antiquities_ ( vols., - ). he died in new york on the st of november . he was a member of several learned societies in europe and america, and in he received a congressional medal of honour for conspicuous military services. his brother, alessandro palma di cesnola, born in , conducted excavations at paphos (where he was u.s. vice-consul) and salamis on behalf of the british government. the results of these are described in _salaminia_ ( ). footnote: [ ] for the cesnola controversy see c.d. cobham's _attempt at a bibliography of cyprus_ ( th ed., ). see also article cyprus. cespedes (in ital. cedaspe), pablo de ( - ), spanish poet, painter, sculptor and architect, was born at cordova, and was educated at alcalá de henares, where he studied theology and oriental languages. on leaving the university, he went to rome, where he became the pupil and friend of federigo zuccaro, under whose direction he studied particularly the works of raphael and of michelangelo. in , while yet in rome, proceedings were taken against him by the inquisition at valladolid on account of a letter which, found among the papers of the archbishop of toledo, had been written by cespedes during the preceding year, and in which he had spoken with great freedom against the holy office and the inquisitor-general, fernando de valdés. cespedes remained in rome at this critical moment, and he appears rightly to have treated the prosecution with derision. it is not known how he contrived to bring the proceedings to an end; he returned, however, to spain a little before , and in that year was installed in a prebend of the cathedral at cordova, where he resided till his death. pablo de cespedes has been called the most _savant_ of spanish artists. according to his friend francisco pacheco, to whom posterity is indebted for the preservation of all of cespedes's verse that is extant, the school of seville owes to him its introduction to the practice of chiaroscuro. he was a bold and correct draughtsman, a skilful anatomist, a master of colour and composition; and the influence he exerted to the advantage of early spanish art was considerable. cristobal de vera, juan de peñalosa and zambrano were among his pupils. his best picture is a last supper at cordova, but there are good examples of his work at seville and at madrid. cespedes was author of several opuscules in prose on subjects connected with his profession. of his poem on _the art of painting_ enough was preserved by pacheco to enable us to form an opinion of the whole. it is esteemed the best didactic verse in spanish; and it has been compared, not disadvantageously, with the _georgics_. it is written in strong and sonorous octaves, in the majestic declamatory vein of fernando herrera, and is not altogether so dull and lifeless as is most didactic verse. it contains a glowing eulogy of michelangelo, and some excellent advice to young painters, insisting particularly on hard work and on the study of nature. the few fragments yet remaining, amounting in all to some six hundred lines, were first printed by pacheco in his treatise _del arte de la pintura_, in . cÉspedes y meneses, gonzalo de ( ?- ), spanish novelist, was born at madrid about . nothing positive is known of him before the publication of his celebrated romance, the _poema trágico del español gerardo, y desengaño del amor lascivo_ ( - ); there is evidence that he had been sentenced to eight years at the galleys previous to the st of january , and that the penalty had been remitted; but the nature of his offence is not stated. his treatment of political questions in the _historia apologética en los sucesos del reyno de aragón, y su ciudad de zaragoza, años de y _ ( ), having led to the confiscation of the book, céspedes took up his residence at saragossa and lisbon. while in exile he issued a collection of short stories entitled _historias peregrinas y exemplares_ ( ), the unfinished romance _varia fortuna del soldado píndaro_ ( ), and the first part of his _historia de felipe iv._ ( ), a fulsome eulogy which was rewarded by the author's appointment as official historiographer to the spanish king. céspedes died on the th of january . his novels, though written in a ponderous, affected style, display considerable imagination and insight into character. the _poema trágico_ has been utilized by fletcher in _the spanish curate_ and in _the maid of the mill_. the _historias peregrinas_ has been reprinted ( ) with a valuable introduction by sr. cotarelo y mori. cess (a shortened form of "assess"; the spelling is due to a mistaken connexion with "census"), a tax; a term formerly more particularly applied to local taxation, in which sense it still is used in ireland; otherwise it has been superseded by "rate." in india it is applied, with the qualifying word prefixed, to any taxation, such as "irrigation-cess" and the like, and in scotland to the land-tax. cessio bonorum (latin for a "surrender of goods"), in roman law, a voluntary surrender of goods by a debtor to his creditors. it did not amount to a discharge unless the property ceded was sufficient for the purpose, but it secured the debtor from personal arrest. the creditors sold the goods in satisfaction, _pro tanto_, of their claims. the procedure of _cessio bonorum_ avoided infamy, and the debtor, though his after-acquired property might be proceeded against, could not be deprived of the bare necessaries of life. the main features of the roman law of _cessio bonorum_ were adopted in scots law, and also in the french legal system. (see further bankruptcy.) cesti, marc' antonio ( ?- ?), italian musical composer, was born at florence about . he was a pupil of carissimi, and after holding a post somewhere in florence as _maestro di cappella_ entered the papal chapel in . in he became _vice-kapellmeister_ at vienna, and died at venice in . cesti is known principally as a composer of operas, the most celebrated of which were _la dori_ (venice, ) and _il pomo d' oro_ (vienna, ). he was also a composer of chamber-cantatas, and his operas are notable for the pure and delicate style of their airs, more suited to the chamber than to the stage. cestius, lucius, surnamed pius, latin rhetorician, flourished during the reign of augustus. he was a native of smyrna, a greek by birth. according to jerome, he was teaching latin at rome in the year b.c. he must have been living after a.d. , since we are told that he taunted the son of quintilius varus with his father's defeat in the teutoburgian forest (seneca, _controv._ i. , ). cestius was a man of great ability, but vain, quarrelsome and sarcastic. before he left asia, he was invited to dinner by cicero's son, then governor of the province. his host, being uncertain as to his identity, asked a slave who cestius was; and on receiving the answer, "he is the man who said your father was illiterate," ordered him to be flogged (seneca, _suasoriae_, vii. ). as an orator in the schools cestius enjoyed a great reputation, and was worshipped by his youthful pupils, one of whom imitated him so slavishly that he was nicknamed "my monkey" by his teacher (seneca, _controv._ ix. , ). as a public orator, on the other hand, he was a failure. although a greek, he always used latin in his declamations, and, although he was sometimes at a loss for latin words, he never suffered from lack of ideas. numerous specimens of his declamations will be found in the works of seneca the rhetorician. see the monograph _de lucio cestio pio_, by f.g. lindner ( ); t. brzoska in pauly-wissowa's _realencyclopadie_, iii. ( ); teuffel-schwabe, _hist, of roman lit._ (eng. tr.), § , ; m. schanz, _geschichte der romischen litteratur_, ii. cestui, cestuy, an anglo-french word, meaning "that person," which appears in the legal phrases _cestui que trust_, _use_, or _vie_. it is usually pronounced as "cetty." _cestui que trust_ means literally "the person for whose benefit the trust" is created. the _cestui que trust_ is the person entitled to the equitable, as opposed to the legal, estate. thus, if land be granted unto, and to the use of a. in trust for b., b. is _cestui que trust_, and a. trustee. the term, principally owing to its cumbersomeness, is being gradually superseded in modern law by that of "beneficiary." _cestui que use_ (sometimes _cestui à que use_) means "the person for whose benefit a use" is created (see trust). _cestui que vie_ is "the person for whose life" lands are held by another (see remainder). cetacea (from the gr. [greek: ketos], a whale), the name of the mammalian order represented by whales, dolphins, porpoises, &c. from their fish-like form, which is manifestly merely an adaptation to their purely aquatic life, these creatures are often regarded as fishes, although they are true mammals, with warm blood, and suckle their young. the general form is essentially fish-like, the spindle-shaped body passing anteriorly into the head without any distinct neck, and posteriorly tapering gradually towards the extremity of the tail, which is provided with a pair of lateral, pointed expansions of skin supported by fibrous tissue, called "flukes," forming a horizontal triangular propelling organ, notched behind in the middle line. the head is generally large, in some cases attaining more than one-third the entire length; and the mouth is wide, and bounded by stiff, immobile lips. the fore-limbs are reduced to flattened paddles, encased in a continuous skin, showing no external sign of division, and without trace of nails. there are no signs of hind-limbs visible externally. the surface of the skin is smooth and glistening, and devoid of hair, although in many species there are a few bristles in the neighbourhood of the mouth which may persist through life or be present only in the young state. immediately beneath the skin is a thick layer of fat, held together by a mesh of tissue, constituting the "blubber," which retains the heat of the body. in nearly all species a compressed dorsal fin is present. the eye is small, and not provided with a true lacrymal apparatus. the external ear is a minute aperture in the skin situated at a short distance behind the eye. the nostrils open separately or by a single crescentic aperture, near the vertex of the head. the bones generally are spongy in texture, the cavities being filled with oil. in the vertebral column, the cervical region is short and immobile, and the vertebrae, always seven in number, are in many species more or less fused together into a solid mass. the odontoid process of the second cervical vertebra, when that bone is free, is usually very obtuse, or even obsolete. in a paper on the form and function of the cervical vertebrae published in the _jenaische zeitschrift_ for , dr o. reche points out that the shortening and soldering is most pronounced in species which, like the right-whales, live entirely on minute organisms, to capture which there is no necessity to turn the head at all. accordingly we find that in these whales the whole seven cervical vertebrae are fused into an immovable solid mass, of which the compound elements, with the exception of the first and second, are but little thicker than plates. on the other hand, in the finner-whales, several of which live exclusively on fish, and thus require a certain amount of mobility in the head and neck, we find all the cervical vertebrae much thicker and entirely separate from one another. among the dolphin group the narwhal and the white whale, or beluga, are distinguished from all other cetaceans by the great comparative length of their cervical vertebrae, all of which are completely free. in the case of the narwhal such an abnormal structure is easily accounted for, seeing that to use effectively the long tusk with which the male is armed a considerable amount of mobility in the neck is absolutely essential. the beluga, too, which is believed to feed on large and active fishes, would likewise seem to require mobility in the same region in order to effect their capture. on the other hand, the porpoise preys on herrings, pilchards and mackerel, which in their densely packed shoals must apparently fall an easy prey with but little exertion on the part of their captor, and we accordingly find all the neck-vertebrae very short, and at least six out of the seven coalesced into a solid immovable mass. none of the vertebrae are united to form a sacrum. the lumbar and caudal vertebrae are numerous and large, and, as their arches are not connected by articular processes (zygapophyses), they are capable of free motion in all directions. the caps, or epiphyses, at the end of the vertebral bodies are flattened disks, not uniting until after the animal has attained its full dimensions. there are largely developed chevron-bones on the under side of the tail, the presence of which indicates the distinction between caudal and lumbar vertebrae. in the skull, the brain-case is short, broad and high, almost spherical, in fact (fig. ). the supra-occipital bone rises upwards and forwards from the foramen magnum, to meet the frontals at the vertex, completely excluding the parietals from the upper region; and the frontals are expanded laterally to form the roof of the orbits. the nasal aperture opens upwards, and has in front of it a more or less horizontally prolonged beak, formed of the maxillae, premaxillae, vomer, and mesethmoid cartilage, extending forwards to form the upper jaw or roof of the mouth. there are no clavicles. the humerus is freely movable on the scapula at the shoulder-joint, but beyond this the articulations of the limb are imperfect; the flattened ends of the bones coming in contact, with fibrous tissue interposed, allowing of scarcely any motion. the radius and ulna are distinct, and about equally developed, and much flattened, as are all the bones of the flippers. there are four, or more commonly five, digits, and the number of the phalanges of the second and third always exceeds the normal number in mammals, sometimes considerably; they present the exceptional character of having epiphyses at both ends. the pelvis is represented by a pair of small rod-like bones placed longitudinally, suspended below and at some distance from the vertebral column at the commencement of the tail. in some species, to the outer surface of these are fixed other small bones or cartilages, the rudiments of the hind-limb. [illustration: fig. .--a section of the skull of a black-fish (_globicephalus melas_). pmx, premaxilla. mx, maxilla. me, ossified portion of the mesethmoid. an, nostrils. na, nasal. ip, inter-parietal. fr, frontal. pa, parietal. so, supra-occipital. exo, ex-occipital. bo, basi-occipital. sq, squamosal. per, periotic. as, alisphenoid. ps, presphenoid. pt, pterygoid. pn, posterior nares. pl, palatine. vo, vomer. s, symphysis of lower jaw. id, inferior dental canal. cp, coronoid process of lower jaw. cd, condyle. a, angle. sh, stylo-hyal. bh, basi-hyal. th, thyro-hyal.] teeth are generally present, but exceedingly variable in number. in existing species, they are of simple, uniform character, with conical or compressed crowns and single roots, and are never preceded by milk-teeth. in the whalebone whales teeth are absent (except in the foetal condition), and the palate is provided with numerous transversely placed horny plates, forming the "whalebone." salivary glands are rudimentary or absent. the stomach is complex, and the intestine simple, and only in some species provided with a small caecum. the liver is little fissured, and there is no gall-bladder. the blood-vascular system is complicated by net-like expansions of both arteries and veins, or _retia mirabilia_, the larynx is of peculiar shape, the arytenoid cartilages and the epiglottis being elongated, and forming a tubular prolongation, which projects into the posterior nares, and when embraced by the soft palate forms a continuous passage between the nostrils and the trachea, or wind-pipe, in a more perfect manner. the brain is relatively large, round in form, with its surface divided into numerous and complex convolutions. the kidneys are deeply lobulated; the testes are abdominal; and there are no vesiculae seminales nor an os penis. the uterus is bicornuate; the placenta non-deciduate and diffuse. the two teats are placed in depressions on each side of the genital aperture. the ducts of the milk-glands are dilated during suckling into large reservoirs, into which the milk collects, and from which it is injected by the action of a muscle into the mouth of the young animal, so that sucking under water is greatly facilitated. whales and porpoises are found in all seas, and some dolphins and porpoises are inhabitants of the larger rivers of south america and asia. their organization necessitates their passing their life entirely in the water, as on land they are absolutely helpless. they have, however, to rise very frequently to the surface for the purpose of respiration; and, in relation to the upward and downward movement in the water thus necessitated, the principal instrument of motion, the tail, is expanded horizontally. the position of the nostril on the highest part of the head is important for this mode of life, as it is the only part of the body the exposure of which above the surface is absolutely necessary. of numerous erroneous ideas connected with natural history, few are so widespread as that whales spout through their blow-holes water taken in at the mouth. but the "spouting," or "blowing," of whales is nothing more than the ordinary act of expiration, which, taking place at longer intervals than land-animals, is performed with a greater emphasis. the moment the animal rises to the surface it forcibly expels from its lungs the air taken in at the last inspiration, which is charged with vapour in consequence of the respiratory changes. this rapidly condensing in the cold atmosphere in which the phenomenon is often observed, forms a column of steam or spray, which has been taken for water. it happens, however, especially when the surface of the ocean is agitated into waves, that the animal commences its expiratory puff before the orifice has cleared the top of the water, some of which may thus be driven upwards with the blast, tending to complete the illusion. from photographs of spouting rorquals, it appears that the height and volume of the "spout" of all the species is much less than was supposed to be the case by the older observers; even that of the huge "sulphur-bottom" (_balaenoptera sibbaldi_) averaging only about ft. in height, although it may occasionally reach ft. as regards their powers of hearing, the capacity of cetaceans for receiving (and acting upon) sound-waves is demonstrated by the practice of shouting on the part of the fishermen when engaged in driving a shoal of porpoises or black-fish into shallow water, for the purpose of frightening their intended victims. as regards the possession of a voice by cetaceans, it is stated that one species, the "buckelwal" of the germans, utters during the breeding-season a prolonged scream, comparable to the scream of a steam-siren, and embracing the whole musical scale, from base to treble. in respect of anatomical considerations, it is true that the external ear is much reduced, the "pinna" being absent, and the tube or "meatus" of very small calibre. on the other hand, the internal auditory organs are developed on the plan of those of ordinary mammals, but display certain peculiar modifications (notably the remarkable shell-like form of the tympanic bone) for intensifying and strengthening the sound-waves as they are received from the water. it seems, therefore, perfectly evident that whales must hear when in the water. this inference is confirmed by the comparatively small development of the other sense-organs. the eye, for instance, is very small, and can be of little use even at the comparatively small depths to which whales are now believed to descend. again, the sense of smell, judging from the rudimentary condition of the olfactory organs, must be in abeyance; and whales have no sense-organs comparable to the lateral-line-system of fishes. consequently, it would seem that when below the surface of the water they must depend chiefly upon the sense of hearing. probably this sense is so highly developed as to enable the animals, in the midst of the vibrations made by the screw-like movements of the tail, or flukes, to distinguish the sound (or the vibrations) made by the impact of water against rocks, even in a dead calm, and, in the case of piscivorous species, to recognize by the pulse in the water the presence of a shoal of fish. failing this explanation, it is difficult to imagine how whales can find their way about in the semi-darkness, and avoid collisions with rocks and rock-bound coasts. in the christiania _nyt magazin for naturvidenskaberne_, vol. xxxviii., dr g. guldberg has published some observations on the body-temperature of the cetacea, in which he shows how extremely imperfect is our knowledge of this subject. as he remarks, it is a matter of extreme difficulty to obtain the temperature of living cetaceans, although this has been taken in the case of a white-whale and a dolphin, which some years ago were kept in confinement in a pond in the united states. with the larger whales such a mode of procedure is, however, obviously quite impracticable, and we have, accordingly, to rely on _post-mortem_ observations. the layer of blubber by which all cetaceans are protected from cold renders the _post-mortem_ refrigeration of the blood a much slower process than in most mammals, so that such observations have a much higher value than might at first be supposed to be the case. indeed, the blood-temperature of a specimen of sibbald's rorqual three days after death still stood at ° c. the various observations that have been taken have afforded the following results in individual cases: sperm-whale, ° c.; greenland right-whale, . ° c.; porpoise, . ° c.; liver of a second individual, . ° c.; common rorqual, . ° c.; dolphin, . ° c. the average blood-temperature of man is ° c., and that of other mammals ° c.; while that of birds is c. the record of ° c. in the case of the sperm-whale seems to indicate that at least some cetaceans have a relatively high temperature. with the possible exception of one west african dolphin, all the cetacea are predaceous, subsisting on living animal food of some kind. one kind alone (_orca_) eats other warm-blooded animals, as seals, and even members of its own order, both large and small. many feed on fish, others on small floating crustaceans, pteropods and jelly-fishes, while the principal staple of the food of many is constituted by cuttle-fishes and squids. in size cetaceans vary much, some of the smaller dolphins scarcely exceeding ft. in length, while whales are the most colossal of all animals. it is true that many statements of their bulk are exaggerated, but the actual dimensions of the larger species exceed those of all other animals, not even excluding the extinct dinosaurian reptiles. with some exceptions, cetaceans are generally timid, inoffensive animals, active in their movements and affectionate in their disposition towards one another, especially the mother towards the young, of which there is usually but one, or at most two at a time. they are generally gregarious, swimming in herds or "schools," sometimes amounting to many thousands in number; though some species are met with either singly or in pairs. commercially these animals are of importance on account of the oil yielded by the blubber of all of them; while whalebone, spermaceti and ambergris are still more valuable products yielded by certain species. within the last few years whalebone has been sold in america for £ per ton, while it is also asserted that £ per ton has been paid for two and a quarter tons at aberdeen, although there seems to be some degree of doubt attaching to the statement. soon after the middle of the last century, the price of this commodity was as low as £ per ton, but, according to mr frank buckland, it suddenly leapt up to £ with the introduction of "crinoline" into ladies' costume, and it has apparently been on the rise ever since. ambergris, which is very largely used in perfumery, is solely a product of the sperm-whale, and appears to be a kind of biliary calculus. it generally contains a number of the horny beaks of the cuttle-fishes and squids upon which these whales chiefly feed. its market-price is subject to considerable variation, but from £ to £ per oz. is the usual average for samples of good quality. in a merchant in mincing lane was the owner of a lump of ambergris weighing lb., which was sold in paris for about s. per oz., or £ , . _whalebone whales_.--existing cetacea are divisible into two sections, or suborders, the relationships of which are by no means clearly apparent. the first section is that of the whalebone whales, or mystacoceti, in which no functional teeth are developed, although there are tooth-germs during foetal life. the palate is furnished with plates of baleen or whalebone; the skull is symmetrical; and the nasal bones form a roof to the nasal passages, which are directed upwards and forwards. the maxilla is produced in front of, but not over, the orbital process of the frontal. the lacrymal is small and distinct from the jugal. the tympanic is welded with the periotic, which is attached to the base of the skull by two strong diverging processes. the olfactory organ is distinctly developed. the two halves of the lower jaw are arched outwards, their anterior ends meeting at an angle, and connected by fibrous tissue without any symphysis. all the ribs at their upper extremity articulate only with the transverse processes of the vertebrae; their capitular processes when present not articulating directly with the bodies of the vertebrae. the sternum is composed of a single piece, and articulates only with a single pair of ribs; and there are no ossified sternal ribs. external openings of nostrils distinct from each other, longitudinal. a short conical caecum. when in the foetal state these whales have numerous minute teeth lying in the dental groove of both upper and lower jaws. they are best developed about the middle of foetal life, after which they are absorbed, and no trace of them remains at the time of birth. the whalebone does not make its appearance until after birth; and consists of a series of flattened horny plates, between three and four hundred in number, on each side of the palate, with a bare interval along the middle line. the plates are placed transversely to the long axis of the palate, with short intervals between them. each plate or blade is somewhat triangular in form, with the base attached to the palate and the apex hanging downwards. the outer edge of the blade is hard and smooth, but the inner edge and apex fray out into long bristly fibres, so that the roof of the whale's mouth looks as if covered with hair, as described by aristotle. at the inner edge of each principal blade are two or three much smaller or subsidiary blades. the principal blades are longest near the middle of the series, and gradually diminish towards the front and back of the mouth. the horny plates grow from a fibrous and vascular matrix, which covers the palatal surface of the maxillae, and sends out plate-like processes, one of which penetrates the base of each blade. moreover, the free edges of these processes are covered with long vascular thread-like papillae, one of which forms the central axis of each of the hair-like fibres mainly composing the blade. a transverse section of fresh whalebone shows that it is made up of numbers of these soft vascular papillae, circular in outline, and surrounded by concentrically arranged epidermic cells, the whole bound together by other epidermic cells, that constitute the smooth (so-called "enamel") surface of the blade, which, disintegrating at the free edge, allows the individual fibres to become loose and assume a hair-like appearance. whalebone really consists of modified papillae of the mucous membrane of the mouth, with an excessive and horny epithelial development. the blades are supported and bound together for a certain distance from their base, by a mass of less hardened epithelium, secreted by the surface of the palatal membrane or matrix of the whalebone in the intervals of the plate-like processes. this is the "gum" of the whalers. whalebone varies much in colour in different species; in some it is almost jet black, in others slate colour, horn colour, yellow, or even creamy-white. in some descriptions the blades are variegated with longitudinal stripes of different hues. it differs also greatly in other respects, being short, thick, coarse, and stiff in some cases, and greatly elongated and highly elastic in those species in which it has attained its fullest development. its function is to strain the water from the small marine molluscs, crustaceans, or fish upon which the whales subsist. in feeding, whales fill the immense mouth with water containing shoals of these small creatures, and then, on closing the jaws and raising the tongue, so as to diminish the cavity of the mouth, the water streams out through the narrow intervals between the hairy fringe of the whalebone blades, and escapes through the lips, leaving the living prey to be swallowed. although sometimes divided into two families, _balaenidae_ and _balaenopteridae_, whalebone-whales are best included in a single family group under the former name. the typical members of this family are the so-called right-whales, forming the genus _balaena_, in which there are no folds on the throat and chest, and no back-fin; while the cervical vertebrae are fused into a single mass. the flippers are short and broad, with five digits; the head is very large and the whalebone very long and narrow, highly elastic and black; while the scapula is high, with a distinct coracoid and coronoid process. this genus contains the well-known greenland right-whale (_b. mysticetus_) of the arctic seas, the whalebone and oil of which are so much valued in commerce, and also other whales, distinguished by having the head somewhat smaller in proportion to the body, with shorter whalebone and a larger number of vertebrae. these inhabit the temperate seas of both northern and southern hemispheres, and have been divided into species in accordance with their geographical distribution, such as _b. biscayensis_ of the north atlantic, _b. japonica_ of the north pacific, _b. australis_ of the south atlantic, and _b. antipodarum_ and _novae-zelandiae_ of the south pacific; but the differences between them are so small that they may probably be regarded as races of a single species, the black whale (_b. australis_). on the head these whales carry a peculiar structure which is known to whalers as the "bonnet." this is a large horny excrescence, worn into hollows like a much-denuded piece of limestone rock, growing probably in the neighbourhood of the blow-hole. more than one theory has been suggested to account for its presence. one suggestion is that it indicates the descent of whales from rhinoceros-like mammals; another that this species of whale is in the habit of rubbing against rocks in order to free itself from barnacles, and thus produces a kind of corn--although why on the nose alone is not stated. dr w.g. ridewood, however, considers that the structure is due to the fact that the horny layers which are produced all over the skin are not shed on this particular spot. the pigmy whale (_neobalaena marginata_) represents a genus agreeing with the right-whales in the absence of throat-flutings, and with the rorquals in the presence of a dorsal fin. the cervical vertebrae are united, and there are only vertebrae altogether. the flippers are small, narrow, and with only four digits. the ribs remarkably expanded and flattened; the scapula low and broad, with completely developed acromion and coracoid processes. the whalebone is long, slender, elastic and white. the species which inhabits the south american, australian and new zealand seas is the smallest of the whalebone-whales, being not more than ft. in length. in contrast to the preceding is the great grey whale (_rachianectes glaucus_) of the north pacific, which combines the relatively small head, elongated shape, and narrow flippers of the fin-whales, with the smooth throat and absence of a back-fin distinctive of the right-whales. the whalebone is shorter and coarser than in any other species. in the skeleton the cervical vertebrae are free, and the first two ribs on each side expanded and united to form a large bony shield. in the humpback-whale (_megaptera longimana_ or _boops_) the head is of moderate size, the whalebone-plates are short and wide, and the cervical vertebrae free. the skin of the throat is fluted so as to form an expansible pouch; there is a low back-fin; and the flippers, which have four digits each, are extremely long, equalling about one-fourth the total length of the animal. the acromion and coracoid processes of the scapula are rudimentary. see humpback-whale. the right-whales are built for cruising slowly about in search of the shoals of small floating invertebrates which form their food, and are consequently broad in beam, with a float-shaped body and immovable neck. the humpback is of somewhat similar build, but with a smaller head, and probably attains considerable speed owing to the length of its flippers. the finners, or rorquals (_balaenoptera_), which prey largely on fish, are built entirely for speed, and are the ocean greyhounds of the group. their bodies are consequently long and attenuated, and their necks are partially mobile; while they are furnished with capacious pouches for storing their food. they chiefly differ from the humpback by the smaller head, long and slender build, small, narrow, and pointed flippers, each containing four digits, and the large acromion and coracoid processes to the low and broad scapula. rorquals are found in almost every sea. among them are the most gigantic of all animals, _b. sibbaldi_, which attains the length of ft., and the small _b. rostrata_, which does not exceed . there are certainly four distinct modifications of this genus, represented by the two just mentioned, and by _b. musculus_ and _b. borealis_, all inhabitants of british seas, but the question whether almost identical forms found in the indian, southern and pacific oceans are to be regarded as specifically identical or as distinct awaits future researches, although some of these have already received distinct names. see rorqual. in the report on the zoology of the "discovery" expedition, published in by the british museum, e.a. wilson describes a whale frequenting the fringe of the antarctic ice which indicates a new generic type. mainly black in colour, these whales measure about or ft. in length, and have a tall dorsal fin like that of a killer. _toothed whales._--the second suborder is represented by the toothed whales, or odontoceti, in which there is no whalebone, and teeth, generally numerous, though sometimes reduced to a single pair, and occasionally wanting, are normally developed. unlike that of the whalebone-whales, the upper surface of the skull is more or less unsymmetrical. the nasal bones are in the form of nodules or flattened plates, applied closely to the frontals, and not forming any part of the roof to the nasal passage, which is directed upwards and backwards. the olfactory organ is rudimentary or absent. hinder end of the maxilla expanded and covering the greater part of the orbital plate of the frontal bone. lacrymal bone either inseparable from the jugal, or, if distinct, large, and forming part of the roof of the orbit. tympanic bone not welded with the periotic, which is usually only attached to the rest of the skull by ligament. two halves of the lower jaw nearly straight, expanded in height posteriorly, with a wide funnel-shaped aperture to the dental canal, and coming in contact in front by a flat surface of variable length, but constituting a symphysis. several of the anterior ribs with well-developed capitular processes, which articulate with the bodies of the vertebrae. sternum almost always composed of several pieces, placed one behind the other, with which several pairs of ribs are connected by well-developed cartilaginous or ossified sternal ribs. external respiratory aperture single, the two nostrils uniting before they reach the surface, usually in the form of a transverse sub-crescentic valvular aperture, situated on the top of the head. flippers with five digits, though the first and fifth are usually little developed. no caecum, except in _platanista_. the first family, _physeteridae_, is typified by the sperm-whale, and characterized by the absence of functional teeth in the upper jaw; the lower teeth being various, and often much reduced in number. bones of the skull raised so as to form an elevated prominence or crest behind the nostrils. pterygoid bones thick, produced backwards, meeting in the middle line, and not involuted to form the outer wall of the post-palatine air-sinuses, but simply hollowed on their outer side. transverse processes of the arches of the dorsal vertebrae, to which the tubercles of the ribs are attached, ceasing abruptly near the end of the series, and replaced by processes on the body at a lower level, and serially homologous anteriorly with the heads of the ribs, and posteriorly with the transverse processes of the lumbar vertebrae. costal cartilages not ossified. the first group, or _physeterinae_, includes the sperm-whale itself and is characterized by the presence of a full series of lower teeth, which are set in a groove in place of sockets, the groove being imperfectly divided by partial septa, and the teeth held in place by the strong, fibrous gum. no distinct lacrymal bone. skull strikingly asymmetrical in the region of the nasal apertures, in consequence of the left opening greatly exceeding the right in size. in the sperm-whale (_physeter macrocephalus_) the upper teeth are apparently of uncertain number, rudimentary and functionless, being embedded in the gum. lower jaw with from to teeth on each side, stout, conical, recurved and pointed at the apex until they are worn, without enamel. upper surface of the skull concave; its posterior and lateral edges raised into a very high and greatly compressed semicircular crest or wall (fig. ). zygomatic processes of jugal bones thick and massive. muzzle greatly elongated, broad at the base, and gradually tapering to the apex. lower jaw exceedingly long and narrow, the symphysis being more than half the length. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . atlas, or first vertebra, free; all the other cervical vertebrae united by their bodies and spines into a single mass. eleventh pair of ribs rudimentary. head about one-third the length of the body; very massive, high and truncated, and rather compressed in front; owing its huge size and form mainly to the accumulation of a mass of fatty tissue filling the large hollow on the upper surface of the skull and overlying the long muzzle. the single blow-hole is longitudinal, slightly s-shaped, and placed at the upper and anterior extremity of the head to the left side of the middle line. the opening of the mouth is on the under side of the head, considerably behind the end of the snout. flippers short, broad and truncated. dorsal fin represented by a low protuberance. see sperm-whale. [illustration: fig. .--skull of sperm-whale (_physeter macrocephalus_).] in the lesser or pigmy sperm-whale (_cogia breviceps_) there may be a pair of rudimentary teeth in the upper jaw, while on each side of the lower jaw there are from to rather long, slender, pointed and curved teeth, with a coating of enamel. upper surface of the skull concave, with thick, raised, posterior and lateral margins, massive and rounded at their anterior terminations above the orbits. muzzle not longer than the cranial position of the skull, broad at the base, and rapidly tapering to the apex. zygomatic process of the jugal rod-like. lower jaw with symphysis less than half its length. vertebrae: c , d or , l and ca ; total or . all the cervical vertebrae united by their bodies and arches. the head is about one-sixth of the length of the body, and obtusely pointed in front; the mouth small and placed far below the apex of the snout; the blow-hole crescentic, and placed obliquely on the crown of the head in advance of the eyes and to the left of the middle line; while the flippers are bluntly sickle-shaped, and the back-fin triangular. this species attains a length of from to ft. [illustration: fig. .--bottle-nose (_hyperoödon rostratus_). from a specimen taken off the coast of scotland, .] a second subfamily is represented by the bottle-noses and beaked whales, and known as the _ziphiinae_. in this group the lower teeth are rudimentary and concealed in the gum, except one, or rarely two, pairs which may be largely developed, especially in the male. there is a distinct lacrymal bone. externally the mouth is produced into a slender rostrum or beak, from above which the rounded eminence formed by a cushion of fat resting on the cranium in front of the blow-hole rises somewhat abruptly. the blow-hole is single, crescentic and median, as in the _delphinidae_. flippers small, ovate, with five digits moderately well developed. a small obtuse dorsal fin situated considerably behind the middle of the back. longitudinal grooves on each side of the skin of the throat, diverging posteriorly, and nearly meeting in front. in external characters and habits the whales of this group closely resemble each other. they appear to be almost exclusively feeders on cuttle-fishes, and occur either singly, in pairs, or in small herds. by their dental and osteological characters they are easily separated into four genera. in the first of these, _hyperoödon_, or bottle-nose, there is a small conical pointed tooth at the apex of each half of the lower jaw, concealed by the gum during life. skull with the upper ends of the premaxillae rising suddenly behind the nostrils to the vertex and expanded laterally, their outer edges curving backwards and their anterior surfaces arching forwards and overhanging the nostrils; the right larger than the left. nasal bones lying in the hollow between the upper extremities of the premaxillae, strongly concave in the middle line and in front; their outer edges, especially that of the right, expanded over the front of the inner border of the maxilla. very high longitudinal crests on the maxillae at the base of the beak, extending backwards almost to the nostrils, approaching each other in the middle line above; sometimes compressed and sometimes so massive that their inner edges come almost in contact. preorbital notch distinct, and mesethmoid cartilage slightly ossified. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . all the cervical vertebrae united. upper surface of the head in front of the blow-hole very prominent and rounded, rising abruptly from above the small, distinct snout. two species are known. see bottle-nose whale. the typical representative of the beaked whales is _ziphius cuvieri_, in which there is a single conical tooth of moderate size on each side close to the anterior extremity of the lower jaw, directed forwards and upwards. skull with the premaxillae immediately in front and at the sides of the nostrils expanded, hollowed, with elevated lateral margins, the posterior ends rising to the vertex and curving forwards, the right being considerably more developed than the left. the conjoint nasals form a pronounced symmetrical eminence at the top of the skull, projecting forwards over the nostrils, flat above, prominent and rounded in the middle line in front, and separated by a notch on each side from the premaxillae. preorbital notch not distinct. rostrum (seen from above) triangular, tapering from the base to the apex; upper and outer edges of maxillae at base of rostrum raised into low roughened tuberosities. mesethmoid cartilage densely ossified in adult age, and coalescing with the surrounding bones of the rostrum. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . the three anterior cervical vertebrae united, the rest free. [illustration: fig. .--sowerby's beaked whale (_mesoplodon bidens_).] in the numerous species of the allied genus _mesoplodon_ there is a much-compressed and pointed tooth in each half of the lower jaw, variously situated, but generally at some distance behind the apex; its point directed upwards, and often somewhat backwards, occasionally developed to a great size. in the skull the region round the nostrils is as in _hyperoödon_, except that the nasals are narrow and more sunk between the upper ends of the premaxillae; like those of _hyperoödon_, they are concave in the middle line in front and above. no maxillary tuberosities. preorbital notch not very distinct. rostrum long and narrow. mesethmoid in the adult ossified in its entire length, and coalescing with the surrounding bones. vertebrae: c , d , l or , ca or ; total to . two or three anterior cervicals united, the rest usually free. [illustration: fig. .--skull of a beaked whale (_mesoplodon densirostris_).] though varying in form, the lower teeth of the different members of this genus agree in their essential structure, having a small and pointed enamel-covered crown, composed of dentine, which, instead of surmounting a root of the ordinary character, is raised upon a solid mass of osteo-dentine, the continuous growth of which greatly alters the form and general appearance of the tooth as age advances, as in the case of _m. layardi_, where the long, narrow, flat, strap-like teeth, curving inwards at their extremities, meet over the rostrum, and interfere with the movements of the jaw. in one species (_m. grayi_) a row of minute, conical, pointed teeth, like those of ordinary dolphins, to in number, is present even in the adults, on each side of the middle part of the upper jaw, but embedded by their roots only in the gum, and not in bony sockets. this, with the frequent presence of rudimentary teeth in other species of this genus, indicates that the beaked whales are derived from ancestral forms with teeth of normal character in both jaws. the species are distributed in both northern and southern hemispheres, but most frequent in the latter. among them are _m. bidens_, _m. europaeas_, _m. densirostris_, _m. layardi_, _m. grayi_ and _m. hectori_; but there is still much to be learned with regard to their characters and distribution. this group was abundant in the pliocene age, as attested by the frequency with which the imperishable long, cylindrical rostrum of the skull, of more than ivory denseness, is found among the rolled and waterworn animal remains which compose the "bone-bed" at the base of the red crag of suffolk. finally, in arnoux's beaked whale (_berardius arnouxi_), of new zealand, which grows to a length of ft., there are two moderate-sized, compressed, pointed teeth, on each side of the symphysis of the lower jaw, with their summits directed forwards, the anterior being the larger of the two and close to the front of the jaw. upper ends of the premaxillae nearly symmetrical, moderately elevated, slightly expanded, and not curved forward over the nostrils. nasals broad, massive and rounded, of nearly equal size, forming the vertex of the skull, flattened in front, most prominent in the middle line. preorbital notch distinct. rostrum long and narrow. mesethmoid partially ossified. small rough eminences on the outer edge of the upper surface of the maxillae at base of rostrum. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . the three anterior cervicals welded, the rest free and well developed. apparently this whale has the power of thrusting its teeth up and down, exposing them to view when attacked. [illustration: fig. .--the susu, or ganges dolphin (_platanista gangetica_).] in a family by themselves--the _platinistidae_--are placed three cetaceans which differ from the members of the preceding and the following groups in the mode of articulation of the ribs with the vertebrae, as the tubercular and capitular articulations, distinct at the commencement of the series, gradually blend together, as in most mammals. the cervical vertebrae are all free. the lacrymal bone is not distinct from the jugal. the jaws are long and narrow, with numerous teeth in both; the symphysis of the lower one exceeding half its length. externally the head is divided from the body by a slightly constricted neck. pectoral limbs broad and truncated. dorsal fin small or obsolete. in habits these dolphins are fluviatile or estuarine. in the indian susu, or ganges dolphin (_platanista gangetica_), the teeth number about / on each side, are set near together, are rather large, cylindrical, and sharp-pointed in the young, but in old animals acquire a large laterally compressed base, which in the posterior part of the series becomes irregularly divided into roots. as the conical enamel-covered crown wears away, the teeth of the young and old animals have a totally different appearance. the beak and tooth-bearing portion of the lower jaw are so narrow that the teeth of the two sides are almost in contact. maxillae supporting large, incurved, compressed bony crests, which overarch the nostrils and base of the rostrum, and almost meet in the middle line above. orbits very small and eyes rudimentary, without crystalline lens. blow-hole longitudinal, linear. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . a small caecum. no pelvic bones. dorsal fin represented by a low ridge. [illustration: fig. .--river plate dolphin (_stenodelphis blainvillei_).] the second genus is represented by _inia geoffroyi_, of the amazon, in which the teeth vary from to pairs in each jaw; those at the posterior part with a distinct tubercle at the inner side of the base of the crown. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . transverse processes of lumbar vertebrae very broad. sternum short and broad, and consisting of a single segment only. dorsal fin a mere ridge. the long cylindrical rostrum externally furnished with scattered, stout and crisp hairs. the third type is _stenodelphis blainvillei_, the river plate dolphin, a small brown species (fig. ), with from to pairs of teeth in each jaw, furnished with a cingulum at the base of the crown. jaws very long and slender. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . transverse processes of the lumbar vertebrae extremely broad. sternum elongated, composed of two segments, with four sternal ribs attached. dorsal fin rather small, triangular, pointed. blow-hole transverse. in several respects this species connects the two preceding ones with the _delphinidae_ (see dolphin). the last family of existing cetaceans is the above-mentioned _delphinidae_, which includes the true dolphins, porpoises, grampuses and their relatives. as a rule there are numerous teeth in both jaws; and the pterygoid bones of the skull are short, thin and involuted to form with a process of the palate bone the outer wall of the post-palatine air-sinus. symphysis of lower jaw short, or moderate, never exceeding one-third the length of the jaw. lacrymal bone not distinct from the jugal. transverse processes of the dorsal vertebrae gradually transferred from the arches to the bodies of the vertebrae without any sudden break, and becoming posteriorly continuous serially with the transverse processes of the lumbar vertebrae. anterior ribs attached to the transverse process by the tubercle, and to the body of the vertebra by the head; the latter attachment lost in the posterior ribs. sternal ribs ossified. the blow-hole is transverse, crescentic, with the horns of the crescent pointing forwards. first on the long list is the narwhal, _monodon monoceros_, in which, apart from some irregular rudimentary teeth, the dentition is reduced to a single pair of teeth which lie horizontally in the maxilla, and in the female remain permanently concealed within the socket, so that this sex is practically toothless, while in the male (fig. ), the right tooth usually remains similarly concealed while the left is immensely developed, attaining a length equal to more than half that of the entire animal, projecting horizontally from the head in the form of a cylindrical, or slightly tapering, pointed tusk, without enamel, and with the surface marked by spiral grooves and ridges, running in a sinistral direction. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . cervical region comparatively long, and all the vertebrae distinct, or with irregular unions towards the middle of the series, the atlas and axis being usually free. flipper small, short and broad, with the second and third digits nearly equal, the fourth slightly shorter. no dorsal fin. see narwhal. [illustration: fig. .--upper surface of the skull of male narwhal (_monodon monoceros_), with the whole of both teeth exposed by removal of the upper wall of their alveolar cavities.] closely allied is the beluga or white-whale (_delphinapterus leucas_), of the arctic seas, in which, however, there are from eight to ten pairs of teeth in each jaw, occupying the anterior three-fourths of the rostrum and corresponding portion of the lower jaw, rather small, conical, and pointed when unworn, but usually become obliquely truncated, separated by intervals considerably wider than the diameter of the tooth, and implanted obliquely, the crowns inclining forwards especially in the upper jaw. skull rather narrow and elongated, depressed. premaxillae convex in front of the nostrils. rostrum about equal in length to the cranial portion of the skull, triangular, broad at the base, and gradually contracting towards the apex, where it is somewhat curved downwards. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . cervical vertebrae free. flippers broad, short and rounded, all the digits being tolerably well developed, except the first. anterior part of head rounded; no distinct snout. no dorsal fin, but a low ridge in its place. see beluga. in all the remaining genera of _delphinidae_ the cervical region of the vertebral column is very short, and the first two, and usually more, of the vertebrae are firmly united. the common porpoise (_phocaena communis_, or _p. phocaena_) is the typical representative of the first genus, in which the teeth vary from / to / , are small, and occupy nearly the whole length of the rostrum, with compressed, spade-shaped crowns, separated from the root by a constricted neck. rostrum rather shorter than the cranium proper, broad at the base and tapering towards the apex. premaxillae raised into tuberosities in front of the nostrils. the frontal bones form a somewhat square elevated protuberance in the middle line of the skull behind the nostrils, rising above the flattened nasals. symphysis of lower jaw very short. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . first to sixth cervical vertebrae and sometimes the seventh also, coalesced. flippers of moderate size, oval, slightly sickle-shaped, with the second and third digits nearly equal in length, and the fourth and fifth well developed, but shorter. head short, moderately rounded in front of the blow-hole. dorsal fin near the middle of the back, triangular; its height considerably less than the length of the base; its anterior edge frequently furnished with one or more rows of conical horny tubercles. the porpoise, which is so common in british waters and the atlantic, seldom enters the mediterranean, and apparently never resides there. there is, however, a porpoise in the black sea, which, according to dr o. abel, is entitled to rank as a distinct species, with the name of _phocaena relicta_. this black sea porpoise is readily distinguished from the atlantic species by the contour of the profile of the head, which, in place of forming a continuous curve from the muzzle to what represents the neck, has a marked prominence above the angle of the mouth, followed by an equally marked depression. the teeth are also different in form and number. the absence of porpoises from the mediterranean is explained by dr abel on account of the greater saltness of that sea as compared with the ocean in general; his idea being that these cetaceans are near akin to fresh-water members of the group, and therefore unsuited to withstand an excessively saline medium. from the taman peninsula, on the north shore of the black sea, the same writer has described an extinct type of ancestral porpoise, under the name of _palaeophocaena andrussowi_. another species is the wholly black _p. spinipennis_, typically from south america. black is also the hue of the indian porpoise (_neophocaena phocaenoides_), which wants a dorsal fin, and has eighteen pairs of teeth rather larger than those of the ordinary porpoise. (see porpoise.) [illustration: fig. .--beluga or white-whale (_delphinapterus leucas_). from a specimen taken in the river st lawrence and exhibited in london, .] next comes the indo-malay genus _orcella_, in which the / to / , small, conical teeth are pointed, rather closely set, and occupy nearly the whole length of the rostrum. skull sub-globular, high. rostrum nearly equal in length to the cranial portion of the skull, tapering. flippers of moderate size, not elongated, but somewhat pointed, with all the bones of the digits broader than long, except the first phalanges of the index and third fingers. head globular in front. dorsal fin rather small, placed behind the middle of the body. two species, both of small size--_o. brevirostris_, from the bay of bengal, and _o. fluminalis_, from the irrawaddy river, from to m. from the sea. in the grampus, or killer, _orca gladiator_ (or _o. orca_) the teeth form about twenty pairs, above and below, occupying nearly the whole length of the rostrum, very large and stout, with conical recurved crowns and large roots, expanded laterally and flattened, or rather hollowed, on the anterior and posterior surfaces. rostrum about equal in length to the cranial part of the skull, broad and flattened above, rounded in front; premaxillae broad and rather concave in front of the nostrils, contracted at the middle of the rostrum, and expanding again towards the apex. vertebrae: c , d - , l , ca ; total or ; bodies of the first and second and sometimes the third cervical vertebrae united; the rest free. flippers very large, ovate, nearly as broad as long, with all the phalanges and metacarpals broader than long. general form of body robust. face short and rounded. dorsal fin near the middle of the back, very high and pointed. see grampus. [illustration: fig. .--the grampus or killer (_orca gladiator_).] the lesser killer or black killer, _pseudorca crassidens_, has its - / - teeth confined to the anterior half of the rostrum and corresponding part of the lower jaw; they are small, conical, curved and sharp-pointed when unworn, but sometimes deciduous in old age. skull broad and depressed; with the rostrum and cranial portions about equal in length. upper surface of rostrum broad and flat. premaxillae concave in front of the nostrils, as wide at the middle of the rostrum as at the base, and nearly or completely concealing the maxillae in the anterior half of this region. vertebrae: c , d ii, l - , ca - ; total or . bodies of the anterior five or six cervical vertebrae united. length of the bodies of the lumbar and anterior caudal vertebrae about equal to their width. flippers very long and narrow, with the second digit the longest, and having as many as or phalanges, the third shorter (with phalanges), the first, fourth and fifth very short. fore part of the head round, in consequence of the great development of a cushion of fat, placed on the rostrum of the skull in front of the blow-hole. dorsal fin low and triangular, the length of its base considerably exceeding its vertical height. next comes the ca'ing whale, or black-fish (_globicephalus melas_), with about ten pairs of upper and lower teeth. cranial and dental characters generally like those of _orca_, except that the roots of the teeth are cylindrical. vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total ; first to sixth or seventh cervical vertebrae united; bodies of the lumbar vertebrae distinguished from those of the preceding genera by being more elongated, the length being to the width as to . flippers of moderate size, narrow and pointed. dorsal fin situated near the middle of the back, of moderate size, and sickle-shaped. head in front of the blow-hole high, and compressed anteriorly, the snout truncated. see ca'ing whale. risso's dolphin, _grampus griseus_, represents another genus, characterized by the absence of teeth in the upper and the small number of these in the lower jaw ( to on each side, and confined to the region of the symphysis). vertebrae: c , d , l , ca ; total . general external characters much as in _globicephalus_, but the fore part of the head less rounded, and the flippers less elongated. _g. griseus_ is about ft. long, and remarkable for its great variability of colour. it has been found, though rarely, in the north atlantic and mediterranean. the common dolphin (_delphinus delphis_) is the typical representative of a large group of relatively small species, some of which are wholly marine, while others are more or less completely fluviatile. they are divided into a number of genera, such as _prodelphinus_, _steno_, _lagenorhynchus_, _cephalorhynchus_, _tursiops_, &c., best distinguished from one another by the number and size of the teeth, the form and relations of the bones on the hinder part of the palate, the length of the beak and of the union of the two halves of the lower jaw, and the number of vertebrae. for the distinctive characters of these genera the reader may refer to one of the works mentioned below; and it must suffice to state that, collectively, all these dolphins are characterized by the following features. the teeth are numerous in both jaws, and more than / in number, occupying nearly the whole length of the rostrum, and small, close-set, conical, pointed and slightly curved. rostrum more or less elongated, and pointed in front, usually considerably longer than the cranial portion of the skull. vertebrae: c , d - , l and ca variable; total to . flippers of moderate size, narrow, pointed, somewhat sickle-shaped, with the first digit rudimentary, the second longest, third nearly equal, and the fourth and fifth extremely short. externally the head shows a distinct beak or pointed snout, marked off from the antenasal fatty elevation by a v-shaped groove. dorsal fin rather large, triangular or sickle-shaped, rarely wanting. a curiously marked brown and white species, perhaps referable to _lagenorhynchus_ is found on the fringe of the antarctic ice (see report on the zoology of the "discovery," published in by the british museum). see dolphin. _extinct cetacea._ at present we are totally in the dark as to the origin of the whalebone-whales, not being even assured that they are derived from the same stock as the toothed whales. it is noteworthy, however, that some of the fossil representatives of the latter have nasal bones of a type recalling those of the former. such fossil whalebone-whales as are known occur in pliocene, and miocene formations are either referable to existing genera, or to more or less nearly related extinct ones, such as _plesiocetus_, _herpetocetus_ and _cetotherium_. the toothed whales, on the other hand, are very largely represented in a fossil state, reaching as low in the geological series as the upper cretaceous. many of these present much more generalized characters than their modern representatives, while others indicate apparently a transition towards the still more primitive zeuglodonts, which, as will be shown later, are themselves derived from the creodont carnivora. in the pliocene deposits of belgium and england are preserved the teeth and other remains of a number of cetaceans, such as _physodon_, _encetus_, _dinoziphius_, _hoplocetus_, _balaenodon_ and _scaldicetus_, more or less nearly related to the sperm-whale, but presenting several primitive characters. a complete skull of a member of this group from the tertiary deposits of patagonia, at first referred to _physodon_, but subsequently to _scaldicetus_, has a full series of enamelled teeth in the upper jaw; and it is probable that the same was the case in other forms. this entails either a modification of the definition of the _physeteridae_ as given above, or the creation of a separate family for these primitive sperm-whales. in other cases, however, as in the miocene _prophyseter_ and _placoziphius_, the anterior portion or the whole of the upper jaw had already become toothless; and these forms are regarded as indicating the descent of the sperm-whales from the under-mentioned _squalodon_. the beaked whales, again, are believed to be independently descended from the latter type, _berardius_ being traced into the miocene _mioziphius_, _anoplonassa_ and _palaeoziphius_, the last of which shows signs in its dentition of approximating to the complicated tooth-structure of the squalodonts. another line of descent from the latter, apparently culminating in the modern _platanistidae_, is represented by the family _eurhinodelphidae_, typified by the european miocene _eurhinodelphis_, but also including the contemporary patagonian _argyrocetus_ and the nearly allied european _cyrtodelphis_. all these were very long-beaked dolphins; and in _argyrocetus_, at all events, the occipital condyles, instead of being closely pressed to the skull, are as prominent as in ordinary mammals, while the nasal bones, instead of forming mere rudimentary nodules, were squared and roofed over the hind part of the nasal chamber. in the miocene _squalodon_, representing the family _squalodontidae_, the dentition is differentiated into incisors, canines and cheek-teeth, the hinder ones of the latter series having double roots and compressed crowns carrying serrations on the hinder edge; generally the dental formula has been given as i. / , c. / , p. / , m. / , the single-rooted cheek-teeth being regarded as premolars and those with double roots as molars. dr abel is, however, of opinion that the formula is better represented as i. / , c. / , p. ( or )/ , m. / ; the teeth reckoned as molars corresponding to those of the creodont carnivora. the single-rooted cheek-teeth are regarded as due, not to the division of double-rooted ones, but to the fusion of the two roots of teeth of the latter type. in _squalodon_ the nasal bones were of the modern nodular type, but in the miocene patagonian _prosqualodon_ they partially covered the nasal chamber. at present there is a gap between the most primitive squalodonts and the eocene zeuglodonts (_zeuglodontidae_), which are regarded by messrs max weber, o. abel and c.w. andrews as the direct forerunners of the modern-toothed whales, forming the suborder _archaeoceti_. it is, however, right to mention that some authorities refuse to admit the relation of the archaeoceti to the whales. in the typical zeuglodonts the long and flat skull has large temporal fossae, a strong sagittal crest, a long beak formed mainly by the premaxillae (in place of the maxillae, as in modern whales), and long nasal bones covering over the nasal chamber, so that the nostrils opened about half-way down the beak. all the cervical vertebrae were free. normally the dentition in the typical genus _zeuglodon_ (which is common to the eocene of north america and egypt) is i. / , c. / , p. / , m. / ; the cheek-teeth being two-rooted, with compressed pointed crowns, of which the fore-and-aft edges are coarsely serrated. in the egyptian _zeuglodon osiris_ the number of the molars is, however, reduced to / , while some of the earlier cheek-teeth have become single-rooted, as in the squalodonts. the probable transitional form between the latter and the zeuglodonts is the small _microzeuglodon caucasicus_ described by the present writer, from the caucasus. as regards the origin of the zeuglodonts themselves, remains discovered in the eocene formations of egypt indicate a practically complete transition, so far at least as dental characters are concerned, from these whale-like creatures to the creodont carnivora. in the earliest type, _protocetus_, the skull is practically that of a zeuglodont, the snout being in fact more elongated than in some of the earliest representatives of the latter, although the nostrils are placed nearer the tip. the incisors are unknown, but the cheek-teeth are essentially those of a creodont, none of them having acquired the serrated edges distinctive of the typical zeuglodonts; and the hinder premolars and molars retaining the three roots of the creodonts. in the somewhat later _prozeuglodon_ the skull is likewise essentially of the zeuglodont type, although the nostrils have shifted a little more backwards; as regards the cheek-teeth, which have acquired serrated crowns, the premolars at any rate retain the inner buttress supported by a distinct third root, so that they are precisely intermediate between _protocetus_ and _zeuglodon_. yet another connecting form is _eocetus_, a very large animal from nearly the same horizon as _prozeuglodon_; its skull approaching that of _zeuglodon_ as regards the backward position of the nostrils, although the cheek-teeth are of the creodont type, having inner, or third, roots. it is noteworthy that _zeuglodon_ apparently occurs in the same beds as these intermediate types. it follows from the foregoing that if zeuglodonts are the ancestors of the true cetacea--and the probability that they are so is very great--the latter are derived from primitive carnivora, and not, as has been suggested, from herbivorous ungulata. the idea that the zeuglodonts were provided with a bony armour does not appear to be supported by recent discoveries. authorities.--the above article is based on that by sir w.h. flower in the th edition of this work. see also w.h. flower, "on the characters and divisions of the family delphinidae," _proc. zool. soc._ (london, ); f.w. true, "review of the family delphinidae," _proc. u.s. museum_, no. ( ); r. lydekker, "cetacean skulls from patagonia," _palaeontol. argentina_, vol. ii: _an. mus. la plata_ ( ); w. dames, "Über zeuglodonten aus Ägypten," _paläontol. abhandlungen_, vol. i. ( ); f.e. beddard, _a book of whales_ (london, ); o. abel, "untersuchungen über die fossilen platanistiden des wiener beckens," _denks. k. akad. wiss. wien._, vol. lxviii. ( ); "les dauphins longirostres du bolérien," _mém. musée d'hist. nat. belgique_ ( and ); "die phylogenetische entwickelung des cetaceengebisses und die systematische stellung der physeteriden," _verhandl. deutsch. zool. gesellschaft_ ( ); e. fraas, "neue zeuglodonten aus dem unteren mittelocean vom mokattam bei cairo," _geol. und paläontol. abhandl._ ser. , vol. vi. ( ); c.w. andrews, "descriptive catalogue of the tertiary vertebrata of the fayum" (british museum, ). (r. l.*) cethegus, the name of a roman patrician family of the cornelian gens. like the younger cato its members kept up the old roman fashion of dispensing with the tunic and leaving the arms bare (horace, _ars poëtica_, ; lucan, _pharsalia_, ii. ). two individuals are of some importance:-- ( ) marcus cornelius cethegus, pontifex maximus and curule aedile, b.c. in , as praetor, he had charge of apulia; later, he was sent to sicily, where he proved a successful administrator. in he was censor, and in consul. in he was proconsul in upper italy, where, in conjunction with the praetor p. quintilius varus, he gained a hard-won victory over mago, hannibal's brother, in insubrian territory, and obliged him to leave italy. he died in . he had a great reputation as an orator, and is characterized by ennius as "the quintessence of persuasiveness" (_suadae medulla_). horace (_ars poët._ ; _epistles_, ii. . ) calls him an authority on the use of latin words. livy xxv. , , xxvii. , xxix. , xxx. . ( ) gaius cornelius cethegus, the boldest and most dangerous of catiline's associates. like many other youthful profligates, he joined the conspiracy in the hope of getting his debts cancelled. when catiline left rome in b.c., after cicero's first speech, cethegus remained behind as leader of the conspirators with p. lentulus sura. he himself undertook to murder cicero and other prominent men, but was hampered by the dilatoriness of sura, whose age and rank entitled him to the chief consideration. the discovery of arms in cethegus's house, and of the letter which he had given to the ambassadors of the allobroges, who had been invited to co-operate, led to his arrest. he was condemned to death, and executed, with sura and others, on the night of the th of december. sallust, _catilina_, - ; cicero, _in cat._ iii. - ; appian, _bell. civ._ ii. - ; see catiline. cetina, gutierre de ( ?- ?), spanish poet and soldier, was born at seville shortly before . he served under charles v. in italy and germany, but retired from the army in to settle in seville. soon afterwards, however, he sailed for mexico, where he resided for some ten years; he appears to have visited seville in , and to have returned to mexico, where he died at some date previous to . a follower of boscan and garcilaso de la vega, a friend of jerónimo de urrea and baltavar del alcázar, cetina adopted the doctrines of the italian school and, under the name of vandalio, wrote an extensive series of poems in the newly introduced metres; his sonnets are remarkable for elegance of form and sincerity of sentiment, his other productions being in great part adaptations from petrarch, ariosto and ludovico dolce. his patrons were antonio de leyva, prince of ascoli, hurtado de mendoza, and alva's grandson, the duke de sessa, but he seems to have profited little by their protection. his works have been well edited by joaquín hazañas y la rúa in two volumes published at seville ( ). cette, a seaport of southern france in the department of hérault, m. s.w. of montpellier by the southern railway. pop. ( ) , . after marseilles it is the principal commercial port on the south coast of france. the older part of cette occupies the foot and slope of the mont st clair (the ancient _mons setius_), a hill ft. in height, situated on a tongue of land that lies between the mediterranean and the lagoon of thau. this quarter with its wide streets and lofty stone buildings is bounded on the east by the canal de cette, which leads from the lagoon of thau to the old basin and the outer harbour. across the canal lie the newer quarters, which chiefly occupy two islands separated from each other by a wet dock and limited on the east by the canal maritime, parallel to the canal de cette. a lateral canal unites the northern ends of the two main canals. a breakwater running w.s.w. and e.n.e. protects the entrance to the harbour, which is one of the safest in france. the outer port and the old basin are enclosed by a mole to the south and by a jetty to the east. behind the outer port lies an inner and more recent basin which communicates with the canal maritime. the entire area of the harbour, including the canals, is acres with a quayage length of over yds. the public institutions of cette include tribunals of commerce and of maritime commerce, councils of arbitration in commercial and fishing affairs, an exchange and chamber of commerce, a branch of the bank of france and a large hospital. there are also a communal college, a naval school, and schools of music, commerce and industry, and navigation. cette is much resorted to for sea-bathing. the town is connected with lyons by the canal from the rhone to cette, and with bordeaux by the canal du midi, and is a junction of the southern and paris-lyon railways. the shipping trade is carried on with south america, the chief ports of the mediterranean, and especially with spain. the chief exports are wines and brandy, chemical products, skins and soap; the chief imports are wine, cereals, coal, timber, petroleum, sulphur, tar and chemical substances. in the five years - the average annual value of imports was £ , , (£ , , in years - ), of exports £ , , (£ , , in - ). more than small craft are employed in the sardine, tunny, cod and other fisheries. large quantities of shell-fish are obtained from the lagoon of thau. there are factories for the pickling of sardines, for the manufacture of liqueurs and casks, and for the treatment of sulphur, phosphates, and nitrate of soda. the schneider company of creusot also have metallurgical works at cette, and the establishments for making wine give employment to thousands. the port of cette was created in by the agency of colbert, minister of louis xiv., and according to the plans of vauban; toward the end of the th century its development was aided by the opening of the canal du midi. cettigne (servian, _tsetinye_; also written _cettinje_, _tzetinje_, and _tsettinye_), the capital of montenegro; in a narrow plain deeply sunk in the heart of the limestone mountains, at a height of ft. above the sea. pop. ( ) about . the surrounding country is bare and stony, with carefully cultivated patches of rich red soil among the crevices of the rock. in winter it is often so deeply covered with snow as to be well-nigh inaccessible, while in spring and autumn it is frequently flooded by the waters of a small brook which becomes a torrent after rain or a thaw. cettigne itself is little more than a walled village, consisting of a cluster of whitewashed cottages and some unadorned public buildings. these include a church; a fortified monastery which was founded in , but so often burned and rebuilt as to seem quite modern, and which is visited by pilgrims to the tomb of peter i. ( - ); residences for the archimandrite and the _vladika_ or metropolitan of cettigne; a palace built in , which accommodates the ministries; the court of appeal, and a school modelled on the gymnasia of germany and austria; the newer palaces of the prince and his heir; foreign legations; barracks; a seminary for priests and teachers, established by the tsar alexander ii. ( - ), with a very successful girls' school founded and endowed by the tsaritsa marie; a library and reading-room; a theatre, a museum and a hospital. in an open space near the old palace stood the celebrated plane tree, beneath which prince nicholas gave audience to his subjects, and administered justice until the closing years of the th century. a zigzag highway, regarded as a triumph of engineering, winds through the mountain passes between cettigne and the austrian seaport of cattaro; and other good roads give access to the richest parts of the interior. there is, however, little trade, though mineral waters are manufactured. cettigne owes its origin to ivan the black, who was forced, towards the end of the th century, to withdraw from zhabliak, his former capital. it has often been taken and sacked by the turks, but has seldom been occupied by them for long. cetus ("the whale"), in astronomy, a constellation of the southern hemisphere, mentioned by eudoxus ( th century b.c.) and aratus ( rd century b.c.), and fabled by the greeks to be the monster sent by neptune to devour andromeda, but which was slain by perseus. ptolemy catalogued stars in this constellation; tycho brahe, ; and hevelius, . the most remarkable star of this constellation is _o-(mira) ceti_, a long-period variable, discovered by the german astronomer fabricius; its magnitude varies between about to , and its period is days. _[tau]-ceti_ is an irregular variable, its extreme magnitudes being and ; _[gamma]-ceti_ is a beautiful double star, consisting of a yellow star of magnitude and a blue of magnitude . ; _[nu]-ceti_ is also a double star. cetywayo ( ?- ), king of the zulus, was the eldest son of king umpande or panda, and a nephew of the two previous kings, dingaan and chaka. cetywayo was a young man when in his father was placed on the throne by the aid of the natal boers; and three years later natal became a british colony. cetywayo had inherited much of the military talent of his uncle chaka, the organizer of the zulu military system, and chafed under his father's peaceful policy towards his british and boer neighbours. suspecting panda of favouring a younger son, umbulazi, as his successor, cetywayo made war on his brother, whom he defeated and slew at a great battle on the banks of the tugela in december . in the following year, at an assembly of the zulus, it was resolved that panda should retire from the management of the affairs of the nation, which were entrusted to cetywayo, though the old chief kept the title of king. cetywayo was, however, suspicious of the natal government, which afforded protection to two of his brothers. the feeling of distrust was removed in by a visit from mr (afterwards sir) theophilus shepstone, secretary for native affairs in natal, who induced panda to proclaim cetywayo publicly as the future king. friendly relations were then maintained between the zulus and natal for many years. in panda died, and cetywayo was declared king, august , in the presence of shepstone, to whom he made solemn promises to live at peace with his neighbours and to govern his people more humanely. these promises were not kept. not only were numbers of his own people wantonly slain (cetywayo returning defiant messages to the governor of natal when remonstrated with), and the military system of chaka and dingaan strengthened, but he had a feud with the transvaal boers as to the possession of the territory between the buffalo and pongola rivers, and encouraged the chief sikukuni (secocoeni) in his struggle against the boers. this feud with the boers was inherited by the british government on the annexation of the transvaal in . cetywayo's attitude became menacing; he allowed a minor chief to make raids into the transvaal, and seized natives within the natal border. sir bartle frere, who became high commissioner of south africa in march , found evidence which convinced him that the kaffir revolt of that year on the eastern border of cape colony was part of a design or desire "for a general and simultaneous rising of kaffirdom against white civilization"; and the kaffirs undoubtedly looked to cetywayo and the zulus as the most redoubtable of their champions. in december frere sent the zulu king an ultimatum, which, while awarding him the territory he claimed from the boers, required him to make reparation for the outrages committed within the british borders, to receive a british resident, to disband his regiments, and to allow his young men to marry without the necessity of having first "washed their spears." cetywayo, who had found a defender in bishop colenso, vouchsafed no reply, and lord chelmsford entered zululand, at the head of , troops, on the th of january to enforce the british demands. the disaster of isandhlwana and the defence of rorke's drift signalized the commencement of the campaign, but on the th of july the zulus were utterly routed at ulundi. cetywayo became a fugitive, but was captured on the th of august. his kingdom was divided among thirteen chiefs and he himself taken to cape town, whence he was brought to london in august . he remained in england less than a month, during which time the government (the second gladstone administration) announced that they had decided upon his restoration. to his great disappointment, however, restoration proved to refer only to a portion of his old kingdom. even there one of his kinsmen and chief enemies, usibepu, was allowed to retain the territory allotted to him in . cetywayo was reinstalled on the th of january by shepstone, but his enemies, headed by usibepu, attacked him within a week, and after a struggle of nearly a year's duration he was defeated and his kraal destroyed. he then took refuge in the native reserve, where he died on the th of february . for a quarter of a century he had been the most conspicuous native figure in south africa, and had been the cause of long and bitter political controversy in great britain. his son dinizulu afterwards attempted to become king, was exiled ( ) to st helena, permitted to return ( ), and granted the position of a chief. in december dinizulu was imprisoned at maritzburg, being suspected of complicity in the revolt which had occurred in zululand the previous year. he was kept many months waiting trial, there being considerable friction between the colonial government and the british government over the incident. he was eventually brought to trial in november before a special court, his defence (to the cost of which the british government contributed £ ) being undertaken by mr w.p. schreiner. the trial was not concluded until march . the charge of high treason was not proved, but dinizulu was convicted of harbouring rebels and was sentenced to four years' imprisonment. _the life of sir bartle frere_, by john martineau, vol. ii. chaps. to , contains much information concerning cetywayo. ceuta (arabic _sebta_), a spanish military and convict station and seaport on the north coast of morocco, in ° ' n., ° ' w. pop. about , . it is situated on a promontory connected with the mainland by a narrow isthmus. this promontory marks the south-eastern end of the straits of gibraltar, which between ceuta and gibraltar have a width of m. the promontory terminates in a bold headland, the montagne des singes, with seven distinct peaks. of these the highest is the monte del hacko, the ancient _abyla_, one of the "pillars of hercules," which faces gibraltar and rises ft. above the sea. on the westernmost point--almina, ft. high--is a lighthouse with a light visible for m. ceuta consists of two quarters, the old town, covering the low ground of the isthmus, and the modern town, built on the hills forming the north and west faces of the peninsula. between the old and new quarters and on the north side of the isthmus lies the port. the public buildings in the town, thoroughly spanish in its character, are not striking: they include the cathedral (formerly a mosque), the governor's palace, the town hall, barracks, and the convict prison in the old convent of san francisco. ceuta has been fortified seaward, the works being furnished with modern artillery intended to command the entrance to the mediterranean. landward are three lines of defence, the inner line stretching completely across the isthmus. these fortifications, which date from the time of the portuguese occupation, have been partly modernized. the citadel, el hacho, built on the neck of the isthmus, dates from the th century. the garrison consists of between and men, inclusive of a disciplinary corps of military convicts. of the rest of the population about are civilian convicts; and there are colonies of jews, negroes and moors, the last including descendants of moors transferred to ceuta from oran when spain abandoned that city in . ceuta occupies in part the site of a carthaginian colony, which was succeeded by a roman colony said to have been called _ad septem fratres_ and also _exilissa_ or _lissa civitas_. from the romans the town passed to the vandals and afterwards to byzantium, the emperor justinian restoring its fortifications in . in the town, then known as _septon_, fell into the hands of the visigoths. it was the last stronghold in north africa which held out against the arabs. at that date (a.d. ) the governor of the town was the count julian who, in revenge for the betrayal of his daughter by king roderick of toledo, invited the arabs to cross the straits under tarik and conquer spain for islam. by the arabs the town was called _cibta_ or _sebta_, hence the spanish form _ceuta_. from the date of its occupation by the arabs the town had a stormy history, being repeatedly captured by rival berber and spanish-moorish dynasties. it became nevertheless an important commercial and industrial city, being noted for its brass ware, its trade in ivory, gold and slaves. it is said to have been the first place in the west where a paper manufactory was established. in the town was captured by the portuguese under john i., among those taking part in the attack being prince henry "the navigator" and two of his brothers, who were knighted on the day following in the mosque (hastily dedicated as a christian church). ceuta passed to spain in on the subjugation of portugal by philip ii., and was definitely assigned to the spanish crown by the treaty of lisbon in . the town has been several times unsuccessfully besieged by the moors--one siege, under mulai ismail, lasting twenty-six years ( - ). in , with the consent of spain, it was occupied by british troops under general sir j.f. fraser. the town was restored to spain by the british at the close of the napoleonic wars. as the result of the war between spain and morocco in the area of spanish territory around the town was increased. the military governor of the town also commands the troops in the other spanish stations on the coast of morocco. for civil purposes ceuta is attached to the province of cadiz. it is a free port, but does little trade. see de prado, _recuerdos de africa; historia de la plaza de ceuta_ (madrid, - ); budgett meakin, _the land of the moors_ (london, ), chap, xix., where many works dealing with spanish morocco are cited. ceva, a town of piedmont, italy, in the province of cuneo, m. e. by rail from the town of cuneo, ft. above sea-level. pop. ( ) . in the middle ages it was a strong fortress defending the confines of piedmont towards liguria, but the fortifications on the rock above the town were demolished in by the french, to whom it had been ceded in . its cheese (_caseus cebanus_) was famous in roman times, but it does not seem ever to have been a roman town. it lay on the road between augusta taurinorum and vada sabatia. a branch railway runs from ceva through garessio, with its marble quarries, to ormea ( ft.), m. to the south through the upper valley of the tanaro, which in roman times was under albingaunum (th. mommsen in _corp. inscr. lat._ v. (berlin, ), p. ). from ormea a road runs south to ( m.) oneglia on the ligurian coast. cÉvennes (lat. _cebenna_ or _gebenna_), a mountain range of southern france, forming the southern and eastern fringe of the central plateau and part of the watershed between the atlantic and mediterranean basins. it consists of a narrow ridge some m. long, with numerous lofty plateaus and secondary ranges branching from it. the northern division of the range, which nowhere exceeds ft. in height, extends, under the name of the mountains of charolais, beaujolais and lyonnais, from the col de longpendu (west of chalon-sur-saône) in a southerly direction to the col de gier. the central cévennes, comprising the volcanic chain of vivarais, incline south-east and extend as far as the lozère group. the northern portion of this chain forms the boutières range. farther south it includes the gerbier des joncs ( ft.), the mont de mézenc ( ft.), the culminating point of the entire range, and the tanargue group. south of the mont lozère, where the pic finiels reaches ft., lies that portion of the range to which the name cévennes is most strictly applied. this region, now embraced in the departments of lozère and gard, stretches south to include the aigoual and espérou groups. under various local names (the garrigues, the mountains of espinouse and lacaune) and with numerous offshoots the range extends south-east and then east to the montagne noire, which runs parallel to the canal du midi and comes to an end some m. east of toulouse. in the south the cévennes separate the cold and barren table-lands known as the causses from the sunny region of languedoc, where the olive, vine and mulberry flourish. northwards the contrast between the two slopes is less striking. the cévennes proper are formed by a folded belt of palaeozoic rocks which lies along the south-east border of the central plateau of france. concealed in part by later deposits, this ancient mountain chain extends from castelnaudary to the neighbourhood of valence, where it sinks suddenly beneath the tertiary and recent deposits of the valley of the rhone. it is in the montagne noire rather than in the cévennes proper that the structure of the chain has been most fully investigated. all the geological systems from the cambrian to the carboniferous are included in the folded belt, and j. bergeron has shown that the gneiss and schist which form so much of the chain consist, in part at least, of metamorphosed cambrian beds. the direction of the folds is about n. ° e., and the structure is complicated by overthrusting on an extensive scale. the overthrust came from the south-east, and the palaeozoic beds were crushed and crumpled against the ancient massif of the central plateau. the principal folding took place at the close of the carboniferous period, and was contemporaneous with that of the old hercynian chain of belgium, &c. the permian and later beds lie unconformably upon the denuded folds, and in the space between the montagne noire and the cévennes proper the folded belt is buried beneath the horizontal jurassic strata of the causses. although the chain was completed in palaeozoic times, a second folding took place along its south-east margin at the close of the eocene period. the secondary and tertiary beds of the languedoc were crushed against the central plateau and were frequently overfolded. but by this time the ancient palaeozoic chain had become a part of the unyielding massif, and the folding did not extend beyond its foot. as the division between the basins of the loire and the garonne to the west and those of the saône and rhone to the east, the cévennes send many affluents to those rivers. in the south the orb, the hérault and the vidourle are independent rivers flowing to the golfe du lion; farther north, the gard--formed by the union of several streams named gardon--the cèze and the ardèche flow to the rhone. the vivarais mountains and the northern cévennes approach the right banks of the rhone and saône closely, and on that side send their waters by way of short torrents to those rivers; on the west side the streams are tributaries of the loire, which rises at the foot of mont mézenc. a short distance to the south on the same side are the sources of the allier and lot. the waters of the north-western slope of the southern cévennes drain into the tarn either directly or by way of the aveyron, which rises in the outlying chain of the lévezou, and, in the extreme south, the agout. the tarn itself rises on the southern slope of the mont lozère. in the lozère group and the southern cévennes generally, good pasturage is found, and huge flocks spend the summer there. silkworm-rearing and the cultivation of peaches, chestnuts and other fruits are also carried on. in the vivarais cattle are reared, while on the slopes of the beaujolais excellent wines are grown. the chief historical event in the history of the cévennes is the revolt of the camisards in the early years of the th century (see camisards). ceylon, a large island and british colony in the indian ocean, separated on the n.w. from india by the gulf of manaar and palk strait. it lies between ° ' and ° ' n. and between ° ' and ° ' e. its extreme length from north to south is ½ m.; its greatest width is ½ m.; and its area amounts to , sq. m., or about five-sixths of that of ireland. in its general outline the island resembles a pear, the apex of which points towards the north. coast. the coast is beset on the n.w. with numberless sandbanks, rocks and shoals, and may be said to be almost connected with india by the island of rameswaram and adam's bridge, a succession of bold rocks reaching almost across the gulf at its narrowest point. between the island and the opposite coast there exist two open channels of varying depth and width, beset by rocks and shoals. one of these, the manaar passage, is only navigable by very small craft. the other, called the paumben passage, lying between rameswaram and the mainland, has been deepened at considerable outlay, and is used by large vessels in passing from the malabar to the coromandel coast, which were formerly compelled in doing so to make the circuit of the island. the west and south coasts, which are uniformly low, are fringed their entire length by coco-nut trees, which grow to the water's edge in great luxuriance, and give the island a most picturesque appearance. along these shores there are numerous inlets and backwaters of the sea, some of which are available as harbours for small native craft. the east coast from point de galle to trincomalee is of an entirely opposite character, wanting the ample vegetation of the other, and being at the same time of a bold precipitous character. the largest ships may freely approach this side of the island, provided they take care to avoid a few dangerous rocks, whose localities, however, are well known to navigators. seen from a distance at sea this "utmost indian isle" of the old geographers wears a truly beautiful appearance. the remarkable elevation known as "adam's peak," the most prominent, though not the loftiest, of the hilly ranges of the interior, towers like a mountain monarch amongst an assemblage of picturesque hills, and is a sure landmark for the navigator when as yet the colombo lighthouse is hidden from sight amid the green groves of palms that seem to be springing from the waters of the ocean. the low coast-line encircles the mountain zone of the interior on the east, south and west, forming a belt which extends inland to a varying distance of from to m.; but on the north the whole breadth of the island from kalpitiya to batticaloa is an almost unbroken plain, containing magnificent forests of great extent. mountains. the mountain zone is towards the south of the island, and covers an area of about sq. m. the uplifting force seems to have been exerted from south-west to north-east, and although there is much confusion in many of the intersecting ridges, and spurs of great size and extent are sent off in many directions, the lower ranges manifest a remarkable tendency to run in parallel ridges in a direction from south-east to north-west. towards the north the offsets of the mountain system radiate to short distances and speedily sink to the level of the plain. detached hills are rare; the most celebrated of these are mihintale (anc. _missïaka_), which overlooks the sacred city of anuradhapura, and sigiri. the latter is the only example in ceylon of those solitary acclivities which form so remarkable a feature in the tableland of the deccan--which, starting abruptly from the plain, with scarped and perpendicular sides, are frequently converted into strongholds accessible only by precipitous pathways or by steps hewn in the solid rock. for a long period adam's peak was supposed to be the highest mountain in ceylon, but actual survey makes it only ft. above sea-level. this elevation is chiefly remarkable as the resort of pilgrims from all parts of the east. the hollow in the lofty rock that crowns the summit is said by the brahmans to be the footstep of siva, by the buddhists of buddha, by the mahommedans of adam, whilst the portuguese christians were divided between the conflicting claims of st thomas and the eunuch of candace, queen of ethiopia. the footstep is covered by a handsome roof, and is guarded by the priests of a rich monastery half-way up the mountain, who maintain a shrine on the summit of the peak. the highest mountains in ceylon are pidurutalagala, ft. in altitude; kirigalpota, ft.; and totapelakanda, ft. the summits of the highest ridges are clothed with verdure, and along their base, in the beautiful valleys which intersect them in every direction, the slopes were formerly covered with forests of gigantic and valuable trees, which, however, have disappeared under the axe of the planter, who felled and burnt the timber on all the finest slopes at an elevation of to ft., and converted the hillsides into highly cultivated coffee and afterwards tea estates. the plain of nuwara eliya, the sanatorium of the island, is at an elevation of ft., and possesses many of the attributes of an alpine country. the climate of the horton plains, at an elevation of ft., is still finer than that of nuwara eliya, but they are difficult of access, and are but little known to europeans. the town of kandy, in the central province, formerly the capital of the native sovereigns of the interior, is situated ft. above sea-level. rivers. the island, though completely within the influence of oceanic evaporation, and possessing an elevated tableland of considerable extent, does not boast of any rivers of great volume. the rains which usher in each monsoon or change of season are indeed heavy, and during their fall swell the streams to torrents and impetuous rivers. but when these cease the water-courses fall back to their original state, and there are few of the rivers which cannot generally be passed on horseback. the largest river, the mahaweliganga, has a course of m., draining about one-sixth of the area of the island before it reaches the sea at trincomalee on the east coast. there are twelve other considerable rivers, running to the west, east and south, but none of these exceeds m. in length. the rivers are not favourable for navigation, except near the sea, where they expand into backwaters, which were used by the dutch for the construction of their system of canals all round the western and southern coasts. steamers ply between colombo and negombo along this narrow canal and lake. a similar service on the kaluganga did not prove a success. there are no inland lakes except the remains of magnificent artificial lakes in the north and east of the island, and the backwaters on the coast. the lakes which add to the beauty of colombo, kandy, lake gregory, nuwara eliya and kurunegala are artificial or partly so. giant's tank is said to have an area of acres, and minneri and kalawewa each exceed acres. the magnificent basin of trincomalee, situated on the east coast of ceylon, is perhaps unsurpassed in extent, security and beauty by any haven in the world. the admiralty had a dockyard here which was closed in . _geology._--ceylon may be said to have been for ages slowly rising from the sea, as appears from the terraces abounding in marine shells, which occur in situations far above high-water mark, and at some miles distance from the sea. a great portion of the north of the island may be regarded as the joint production of the coral polyps and the currents, which for the greater part of the year set impetuously towards the south; coming laden with alluvial matter collected along the coast of coromandel, and meeting with obstacles south of point calimere, they have deposited their burdens on the coral reefs round point pedro; and these, raised above the sea-level and covered deeply by sand drifts, have formed the peninsula of jaffna, and the plains that trend westward till they unite with the narrow causeway of adam's bridge. tertiary rocks are almost unknown. the great geological feature of the island is the profusion of gneiss, overlaid in many places in the interior by extensive beds of dolomitic limestone. this formation appears to be of great thickness; and when, as is not often the case, the under-surface of the gneiss series is exposed, it is invariably found resting on granite. veins of pure quartz and felspar of considerable extent have been frequently met with in the gneiss; while in the elevated lands of the interior in the galle districts may be seen copious deposits of disintegrated felspar, or _kaolin_, commonly known as porcelain clay. at various elevations the gneiss may be found intersected by veins of trap rock, upheaved whilst in a state of fusion subsequent to the consolidation of the former. in some localities on the seashore these veins assume the character of pitch-stone porphyry highly impregnated with iron. hornblende and primitive greenstone are found in the vicinity of adam's peak and in the pussellava district. laterite, known in ceylon as _kabuk_, a product of disintegrated gneiss, exists in vast quantities in many parts, and is quarried for building purposes. _climate._--the seasons in ceylon differ very slightly from those prevailing along the coasts of the indian peninsula. the two distinctive monsoons of the year are called, from the winds which accompany them, the south-west and the north-east. the former is very regular in its approach, and may be looked for along the south-west coast between the th and th of may; the latter reaches the north-east coast between the end of october and the middle of november. there is a striking contrast in the influence which the south-west monsoon exerts on the one side of the island and on the other. the clouds are driven against the lofty mountains that overhang the western and southern coasts, and their condensed vapours descend there in copious showers. but the rains do not reach the opposite side of the island: while the south-west is deluged, the east and north are sometimes exhausted with dryness; and it not unfrequently happens that different sides of the same mountain present at the same moment the opposite extreme of droughts and moisture. the influence of the north-east monsoon is more general. the mountains which face the north-east are lower and more remote from the sea than those on the south-west; the clouds are carried farther inland, and it rains simultaneously on both sides of the island. the length of the day, owing to the proximity of the island to the equator, does not vary more than an hour at any season. the mean time of the rising of the sun's centre at colombo on february st is ^h ^m a.m., and of its setting ^h ^m p.m. on august th its rising is at ^h ^m a.m., and its setting at ^h ^m p.m. it is mid-day in colombo when it is morning in england. colombo is situated in ° ' " e., and the day is further advanced there than at greenwich by ^h ^m ^s. _flora_.--the characteristics of the low-growing plants of ceylon approach nearly to those of the coasts of southern india. the _rhizophoreae_ are numerous along the low muddy shores of salt lakes and stagnant pools; and the acacias are equally abundant. the list comprises _aegiceras fragrans_, _epithinia malayana_, _thespesia populnea_, _feronia elephantum_, _salvadora persica_ (the true mustard tree of scripture), _eugenia bracteata_, _elaeodendron roxburghii_, _cassia fistula_, _cassia roxburghii_, &c. the herbaceous plants of the low country belong mostly to the natural orders _compositae_, _leguminosae_, _rubiaceae_, _scrophulariaceae_ and _euphorbiaceae_. leaving the plains of the maritime country and ascending a height of ft. in the central districts, we find both herbage and trees assume an altered character. the foliage of the latter is larger and deeper coloured, and they attain a height unknown in the hot low country. the herbaceous vegetation is there made up of ferns, _cyrtandreae_, _compositae_, _scitamineae_ and _urticaceae_. the dense masses of lofty forest at that altitude are interspersed with large open tracts of coarse wiry grass, called by the natives _patanas_, and of value to them as affording pasturage for their cattle. between the altitudes of and ft., many plants are to be met with partaking of european forms, yet blended with tropical characteristics. the guelder rose, st john's wort, the _nepenthes distillatoria_ or pitcher plant, violets, geraniums, buttercups, sundews, ladies' mantles and campanulas thrive by the side of _magnoliaceae_, _ranunculaceae_, _elaeocarpeae_, &c. the most beautiful flowering shrub of this truly alpine region is the rhododendron, which in many instances grows to the height of ft. it is met with in great abundance in the moist plains of the elevated land above nuwara eliya, flowering abundantly in june and july. there are two distinct varieties, one similar to the nilgiri plant, having its leaves broad and cordate, and of a rusty colour on the under side; the other, peculiar to ceylon, is found only in forests at the loftiest elevations; it has narrow rounded leaves, silvery on the under side, and grows to enormous heights, frequently measuring ft. round the stem. at these altitudes english flowers, herbs and vegetables have been cultivated with perfect success, as also wheat, oats and barley. english fruit-trees grow, but rarely bear. grapes are grown successfully in the north of the island. the vines were introduced by the dutch, who overcame the difficulty of perpetual summer by exposing the roots, and thus giving the plants an artificial winter. the timber trees indigenous to ceylon are met with at every altitude from the sea-beach to the loftiest mountain peak. they vary much in their hardiness and durability, from the common cashew-nut tree, which when felled decays in a month, to the ebony and satinwood, which for many years resist the attacks of insects and climate. many of the woods are valuable for furniture, and house and shipbuilding, and are capable of standing long exposure to weather. the most beautiful woods adapted to furniture work are the calamander, ebony, flowered satinwood, tamarind, nedun, dell, kadomberiya, kitul, coco-nut, &c.; the sack-yielding tree (_antiaris saccidora_), for a long time confounded with the far-famed upas tree of java (_antiaris toxicaria_), grows in the kurunegala district of the island. the _cocos nucifera_, or coco-nut palm, is a native of the island, and may justly be considered the most valuable of its trees. it grows in vast abundance alone the entire sea-coast of the west and south sides of the island, and furnishes almost all that a sinhalese villager requires. its fruit, when green, supplies food and drink; when ripe, it yields oil. the juice of the unopened flower gives him toddy and arrack. the fibrous casing of the fruit when woven makes him ropes, nets, matting. the nut-shells form drinking-vessels, spoons, &c. the plaited leaves serve as plates and dishes, and as thatch for his cottage. the dried leaves are used as torches, the large leaf-stalks as garden fences. the trunk of the tree sawn up is employed for every possible purpose, from knife-handles to door-posts; hollowed out it forms a canoe or a coffin. there are four kinds of this palm--the common, the king, the dwarf and the maldive. the palmyra and areca palms grow luxuriantly and abundantly, the former in the northern, the latter in the western and central districts. the one is valuable chiefly for its timber, of which large quantities are exported to the indian coasts; the other supplies the betel-nut in common use amongst natives of the eastern tropics as a masticatory. the export trade in the latter to india and eastern ports is very considerable. next in importance to the coco-nut palm among the indigenous products of ceylon is the cinnamon plant, yielding the well-known spice of that name. _fauna_.--foremost among the animals of ceylon is the elephant, which, though far inferior to those of africa and the indian continent, is nevertheless of considerable value when tamed, on account of its strength, sagacity and docility. they are to be met with in greater or less numbers throughout most unfrequented parts of the interior. occasionally they make inroads in herds upon the cultivated grounds and plantations, committing great damage. in order to protect these lands, and at the same time keep up the government stud of draught elephants, "kraals" or traps on a large scale are erected in the forests, into which the wild herds are driven; and once secured they are soon tamed and fit for service. the oxen are of small size, but hardy, and capable of drawing heavy loads. buffaloes exist in great numbers throughout the interior, where they are employed in a half-tame state for ploughing rice-fields and treading out the corn. they feed upon any coarse grass, and can therefore be maintained on the village pasture-lands where oxen would not find support. of deer, ceylon possesses the spotted kind (_axis maculata_), the muntjac (_stylocerus muntjac_), a red deer (the sambur of india), popularly called the ceylon elk (_musa aristotelis_), and the small musk (_moschus minima_). there are five species of monkeys, one the small rilawa (_macacus pileatus_), and four known in ceylon by the name of "wandaru" (_presbytes ursinus_, _p. thersites_, _p. cephalopterus_, _p. priamus_), and the small quadrumanous animal, the loris (_loris gracilis_), known as the "ceylon sloth." of the cheiroptera sixteen species have been identified; amongst them is the rousette or flying fox (_pteropus edwardsii_). of the carnivora the only one dangerous to man is the small black bear (_prochilus labiatus_). the tiger is not known in ceylon, but the true panther (_felis pardus_) is common, as is the jackal (_canis aureus_) and the mongoose or ichneumon (_herpestes vitticollis_). rats are numerous, as are the squirrel and the porcupine, and the pig-rat or bandicoot (_mus bandicota_), while the scaly ant-eater (_manis pentedactyla_), locally known by the malay name of pangolin, is occasionally found. the dugong (_halicore dugong_), is frequently seen on various points of the coast. a game preservation society and the judicious action of government have done much to prevent the wanton destruction of ceylon deer, elephants, &c., by establishing a close season. it is estimated that there must be wild elephants in the ceylon forests. a licence to shoot or capture and an export royalty are now levied by government. captain v. legge includes species of birds in ceylon, and many of them have splendid plumage, but in this respect they are surpassed by the birds of south america and northern india. the eagles are small and rare, but hawks and owls are numerous; among the latter is a remarkable brown species, the cry of which has earned for it the name of the "devil-bird." the esculent swift, which furnishes in its edible nest the celebrated chinese dainty, builds in caves in ceylon. crows of various species are numerous, and in the wilder parts pea-fowl are abundant. there are also to be mentioned king-fishers, sun-birds, several beautiful fly-catchers and snatchers, the golden oriole, parroquets and numerous pigeons, of which there are at least a dozen species. the ceylon jungle-fowl (_gallus lafayetti_) is distinct from the indian species. ceylon is singularly rich in wading and water birds--ibises, storks, egrets, spoonbills and herons being frequently seen on the wet sands, while flamingoes line the beach in long files, and on the deeper waters inland are found teal and a countless variety of ducks and smaller fowl. of the birds familiar to european sportsmen there are partridge, quail and snipe in abundance, and the woodcock has been seen. the poisonous snakes of ceylon are not numerous. four species have been enumerated--the ticpolonga (_daboia elegans_), the cobra di capello (_naja tripudians_), the carawilla (_trigonocephalus hypnale_), and the _trigonocephalus nigromarginatus_, which is so rare that it has no popular name. the largest snake in ceylon is the "boa," or "anaconda" of eastern story (_python reticulatus_); it is from to ft. in length, and preys on hog-deer and other smaller animals. crocodiles infest the rivers and estuaries, and the large fresh-water reservoirs which supply the rice-fields; there are two species (_c. biporcatus_ and _c. palustris_). of lizards the most noteworthy are the iguana, several bloodsuckers, the chameleon and the familiar geckoes, which are furnished with pads to each toe, by which they are enabled to ascend perpendicular walls and adhere to glass and ceilings. insects exist in great numbers. the leaf and stick insects are of great variety and beauty. ceylon has four species of the ant-lion, renowned for the predaceous ingenuity of its larvae; and the white ants or termites, the ravages of which are most destructive, are at once ubiquitous and innumerable in every place where the climate is not too chilly or the soil too sandy for them to construct their domed dwellings. they make their way through walls and floors, and in a few hours destroy every vegetable substance within their reach. of all the insect pests that beset an unseasoned european the most annoying are the mosquitoes. ticks are also an intolerable nuisance; they are exceedingly minute, and burrow under the skin. in the lower ranges of the hill country land leeches are found in tormenting profusion. but insects and reptiles do not trouble european residents so much as in early years--at any rate in the towns, while in the higher planting districts there is almost complete exemption from their unwelcome attentions. bungalows are more carefully built to resist white ants, drainage and cleanliness prevent mosquitoes and ticks from multiplying, while snakes and leeches avoid cultivated, occupied ground. of the fish in ordinary use for the table the finest is the seir, a species of scomber (_cybium guttatum_). mackerel, dories, carp, whitings, mullet (red and striped), soles and sardines are abundant. sharks appear on all parts of the coast, and the huge saw fish (_pristis antiquorum_) infests the eastern coast of the island, where it attains a length of to ft. there are also several fishes remarkable for the brilliancy of their colouring; e.g. the red sea perch (_holocentrum rubrum_), of the deepest scarlet, and the great fire fish (_scorpaena miles_), of a brilliant red. some are purple, others yellow, and numbers with scales of a lustrous green are called "parrots" by the natives; of these one (_sparus hardwickii_) is called the "flower parrot," from its exquisite colouring--irregular bands of blue, crimson and purple, green, yellow and grey, crossed by perpendicular stripes of black. the pearl fishery, as indicated below, is of great importance. _population_.--the total population of ceylon in , inclusive of military, shipping and prisoners of war, was , , , showing an increase of . % in the decade. the population of colombo was , . the population and area of the nine provinces was as follows:-- +--------------------------+-------------+----------------+ | district. | population. | area in sq. m. | +--------------------------+-------------+----------------+ | | | | | western province | , | , | | central province | , | , ½ | | northern province | , | , ¼ | | southern province | , | , ¼ | | eastern province | , | , ½ | | north-western province | , | , - / | | north central province | , | , ¼ | | province of uva | , | , ½ | | province of sabaragamuwa | , | , - / | | +-------------+----------------+ | | , , | , | +--------------------------+-------------+----------------+ the table of nationality gives the principal groups as follows:-- europeans , burghers and eurasians , low-country sinhalese , , kandyan sinhalese , tamils , moors (mahommedan) , malays , veddahs (aborigines) , altogether there are representatives of some seventy races in ceylon. the veddahs, who run wild in the woods, are the aborigines of the island. _language_.--the language of nearly % of the population is sinhalese, which is nearly allied to pali (q.v.); of the remaining %, with the exception of europeans, the language is tamil. a corrupt form of portuguese is spoken by some natives of european descent. the veddahs, a small forest tribe, speak a distinct language, and the rodiyas, an outcast tribe, possess a large vocabulary of their own. the sinhalese possess several original poems of some merit, and an extensive and most interesting series of native chronicles, but their most valuable literature is written in pali, though the greater portion of it has been translated into sinhalese, and is best known to the people through these sinhalese translations. _religion_.--the principal religions may be distributed as follows:--christians, , ; buddhists, , , ; hindus, , ; mahommedans, , . of the christians, , are roman catholics, and , are protestants of various denominations; and of these christians , are natives, and , europeans. the mahommedans are the descendants of arabs (locally termed moormen) and the malays. the tamils, both the inhabitants of the island and the immigrants from india, are hindus, with the exception of , christians. the sinhalese, numbering % of the whole population, are, with the exception of , christians, buddhists. ceylon may properly be called a buddhist country, and it is here that buddhism is found almost in its pristine purity. ceylon was converted to buddhism in the rd century b.c. by the great augustine of buddhism, mahinda, son of the indian king asoka; and the extensive ruins throughout ceylon, especially in the ancient cities of anuradhapura and polonnaruwa, bear witness to the sacrifices which kings and people joined in making to create lasting monuments of their faith. the buddhist temples in the kandyan country possess valuable lands, the greater portion of which is held by hereditary tenants on the tenure of service. these lands were given out with much care to provide for all that was necessary to maintain the temple and its connected monastery. some tenants had to do the blacksmiths' work, others the carpenters', while another set of tenants had to cultivate the land reserved for supplying the monastery; others again had to attend at the festivals, and prepare decorations, and carry lamps and banners. in course of time difficulties arose; the english courts were averse to a system under which the rent of lands was paid by hereditary service, and a commission was issued by sir hercules robinson (afterwards lord rosmead) when governor, to deal with the whole question, to define the services and to enable the tenants to commute these for a money payment. the result of the inquiry was to show that the services, except in a few instances, were not onerous, and that almost without an exception the tenants were willing to continue the system. the anomaly of an ecclesiastical establishment of anglican and presbyterian chaplains with a bishop of colombo paid out of the general revenues has now been abolished in ceylon, and only the bishop and two or three incumbents remain on the list for life, or till they retire on pension. _education_.--there has been a great advance in public instruction since , through the multiplication of vernacular, anglo-vernacular and english schools by government, by the different christian missions and by the buddhists and hindus who have come forward to claim the government grant. the government has also started a technical college, and an agricultural school has been reorganized. an agricultural department, recommended by a commission, should profit by the services of the entomologist, mycologist and chemical analyst added by the governor to the staff of the royal botanic gardens at peradeniya. there are industrial and reformatory schools, which are partially supported by government. in spite of the great advance that has been made, however, at the census of no fewer than , , of the total population were entered as unable to read or write their own tongue. of this number , , were females, showing a very unsatisfactory state of things. soil. _agriculture._--the natural soils of ceylon are composed of quartzose gravel, felspathic clay and sand often of a pure white, blended with or overlaid by brown and red loams, resulting; from the decay of vegetable matter, or the disintegration of the gneiss and hornblende formations. the whole of the great northern extremity of the island consists of a sandy and calcareous admixture, made to yield productive crops of grain, tobacco, cotton and vegetables by the careful industry of the tamil population, who spare no pains in irrigating and manuring their lands. between the northern districts and the elevated mountain ranges which overlook the bintenne and uva countries are extensive plains of alluvial soil washed down from the table-lands above, where once a teeming population produced large quantities of grain. the remains of ancient works of irrigation bear testimony to the bygone agriculture of these extensive regions now covered by swamps or dense jungle. the general character of the soil in the maritime provinces to the east, south and west is sandy. large tracts of quartzose sand spread along the whole line of sea-coast, some of which, of a pure white, and very deficient in vegetable matter, is admirably adapted to the growth of the cinnamon plant. in the light sandy districts where the soil is perfectly free, and contains a portion of vegetable and mineral loam, the coco-nut palm flourishes in great luxuriance. this is the case along the entire coast line from kalpitiya to point de galle, and farther eastward and northward to matara, stretching to a distance inland varying from yds. to m. from this light sandy belt as far as the mountain-zone of the kandyan country the land is mainly composed of low hilly undulations of sandstone and ferruginous clay, incapable of almost any cultivation, but intersected in every direction with extensive valleys and wide plains of a more generous soil, not highly fertile, but still capable, with a little industry, of yielding ample crops of rice. the soil of the central province, although frequently containing great quantities of quartzose sand and ferruginous clay, is in many of the more elevated districts of a fine loamy character. sand sufficiently vegetable and light for rice culture may be seen at all elevations in the hill districts; but the fine chocolate and brown loams overlying gneiss or limestone formations, so admirably adapted for coffee cultivation, are only to be found on the steep sides or along the base of mountain ranges at an elevation varying from to ft. such land, well-timbered, contains in its elements the decomposed particles of the rocks above, blended with the decayed vegetable matter of forests that have for centuries scattered beneath them the germs of fertility. the quantity of really rich coffee land in these districts is but small as compared with the extent of country--vast tracts of open valleys consisting of an indifferent yellow tenacious soil interspersed with many low ranges of quartz rock, but tea is a much hardier plant than coffee, and grows on poorer soil. _irrigation_.--the native rulers covered the whole face of the country with a network of irrigation reservoirs, by which ceylon was enabled in ancient times to be the great granary of southern asia. wars, and the want of a strong hand to guide the agriculture of the country, led to the decay of these ancient works, and large tracts of land, which were formerly highly productive, became swampy wastes or dense forests. the remains of some of the larger irrigation works are amongst the most interesting of the memorials of ceylon's former greatness. some of the artificial lakes were of great size. minneri, formed by damming across the valleys between the low hills which surround it with an embankment ft. wide at the top, is at this day m. in circumference. it has recently been restored by government, and is capable of irrigating , acres; while the giant's tank, which has also been restored, irrigates , acres. another lake, with an embankment several miles in length, the kalawewa, was formed by damming back the waters of the kalaoya, but they have forced their way through the embankment, and in the ancient bed of the lake, or tank, are now many small villages. in connexion with these large tanks were numerous canals and channels for supplying smaller tanks, or for irrigating large tracts of fields. throughout the district of nuwarakalawiya every village has its tank. the embankments have been formed with great skill, and advantage has been taken to the utmost of the slightest fall in the land; but they in common with the larger works had been allowed to fall into decay, and were being brought to destruction by the evil practice of cutting them every year to irrigate the fields. the work of restoring these embankments was undertaken by the government, and village tanks were repaired every year, besides eighteen larger works. in a sum of five million rupees was set apart for these larger undertakings. _cultivation and products._--the area of uncultivated land is little over ½ million acres, whereas fully four times that amount is capable of cultivation. a great deal is waste, besides lagoons, tanks, backwaters, &c. thick forest land does not cover more than sq. m. scrub, or chena, and patana grass cover a very great area. tea, cacao, cardamoms, cinchona, coffee and indiarubber are the products cultivated by european and an increasing number of native planters in the hill country and part of the low country of ceylon. a great change has been effected in the appearance of the country by the introduction of the tea plant in place of the coffee plant, after the total failure of the latter owing to disease. for some time coffee had been the most important crop. in the old days it grew wild like cinnamon, and was exported so far back as the time of the portuguese, but was lightly esteemed as an article of european commerce, as the berry was gathered unripe, was imperfectly cured and had little flavour. in the governor, sir e. barnes, introduced coffee cultivation on the west indian plan; in the falling off of other sources of supply drew general attention to ceylon, and by the ceylon output had become considerable, and grew steadily (with an interval in due to a commercial crisis) till when , acres were under coffee cultivation, the total export amounting to , , lb. then owing to disease came a crisis, and a rapid decline, and now only a few thousand acres are left. on the failure of the coffee crops planters began extensively to grow the tea plant, which had already been known in the island for several years. by over , acres had been planted with tea, but the export that year was under , lb. five years later the area planted was , acres, while the export had risen to nearly , , lb. by there were , acres covered with tea, and , , lb. were that year exported. in , , acres were planted, and the export was , , lb. by the beginning of the th century, the total area cultivated with tea was not under , acres, while the estimate of shipments was put at , , lb. annually. nearly every plantation has its factory, with the machinery necessary to prepare the leaf as brought in from the bushes until it becomes the tea of commerce. the total amount of capital now invested in the tea industry in ceylon cannot be less than £ , , . the tea-planting industry more than anything else has raised ceylon from the depressed state to which it fell in . before tea was proved a success, however, _cinchona_ cultivation was found a useful bridge from coffee to the ceylon planter, who, however, grew it so freely that in one year , , lb. bark was shipped, bringing the price of quinine down from s. to s. d. an ounce. in a few places, where the rainfall is abundant, rice cultivation is allowed to depend on the natural supply of water, but in most parts the cultivation is not attempted unless there is secured beforehand a certain and sufficient supply, by means of canals or reservoirs. in the hill country every valley and open plain capable of tillage is made to yield its crops of grain, and the steep sides of the hills are cut into terraces, on which are seen waving patches of green rice watered by mountain streams, which are conducted by means of channels ingeniously carried round the spurs of the hills and along the face of acclivities, by earthen water-courses and bamboo aqueducts, so as to fertilize the fields below. these works bear witness to the patience, industry and skill of the kandyan villagers. in the low country to the north and east and north-west of the hills, irrigation works of a more expensive kind are necessary. in january , the immemorial rent or tax on fields of _paddy_ (rice in the husk) was removed, but not the customs duty on imported rice. but even with the advantage of protection to the extent of % in the local markets, there has been no extension of paddy cultivation; on the contrary, the import of grain from india has grown larger year by year. through the multiplication of irrigation works and the northern railway, rice culture may be sufficiently extended to save some of the large imports ( , , to , , bushels annually) now required from india. tobacco is extensively cultivated in various parts of the island, and the growth of particular places, such as dumbara and uva, is much prized for local consumption. the tobacco of export is grown in the peninsula of jaffna. the exports of this article in were , cwts., valued at £ , . the cultivation of the plant has not greatly increased of recent years, and is almost entirely in the hands of natives in the northern and parts of the central province. ceylon has been celebrated since the middle of the th century for its cinnamon, and during the period of the dutch occupation this spice was the principal article of commerce; under their rule and up to its cultivation was a government monopoly. with the abolition of the monopoly the quantity exported increased, but the value declined. unlike the coffee plant, the hardy tea plant grows from sea-level to ft. altitude; but crown forest-lands above ft. are no longer sold, so that a very large area on the highest mountain ranges and plateaus is still under forest. moreover, on the tea plantations arboriculture is attended to in a way unknown in ; the australian eucalypts, acacias and grevilleas, indian and japanese conifers, and other trees of different lands, are now freely planted for ornament, for protection from wind, for firewood or for timber. a great advance has been made at hakgalla and nuwara eliya, in upper uva, and other high districts, in naturalizing english fruits and vegetables. the calamander tree is nearly extinct, and ebony and other fine cabinet woods are getting scarce; but the conservation of forests after the indian system has been taken in hand under a director and trained officers, and much good has been done. the cinnamon tree (wild in the jungles, cultivated as a shrub in plantations) is almost the only one yielding a trade product which is indigenous to the island. the coco-nut and nearly all other palms have been introduced. among other agricultural products mention must be made of _cacao_, the growth and export of which have steadily extended since coffee failed. important also is the spice or aromatic product of cardamoms. the culture of _indiarubber_ was begun on low-country plantations, and ceylon rubber is of the best quality in the market. the area of cultivation of the coco-nut palm has been greatly extended since by natives as well as by europeans. the products of this palm that are exported, apart from those so extensively used in the island itself, exceed in a good year £ , , sterling in value. viticulture and cotton cultivation, as well as tobacco growing, are being developed along the course of the new northern railway. taking the trade in the products mentioned as a whole, no country can compete with the united kingdom as a customer of ceylon. but there is a considerable trade in nearly all products with germany and america; in cardamoms with india; in cinnamon with spain, italy, belgium, australia, austria and france; and in one or other of the products of the coco-nut palm (coco-nuts, coco-nut oil, copra, desiccated coco-nut, poonac, coir) with belgium, russia, france, austria, australia and holland. _pearl fishery._--pearl oysters are found in the tambalagam bay, near trincomalee, but the great banks on which these oysters are usually found lie near arippu, off the northern part of the west coast of ceylon, at a distance of from to m. from the shore. they extend for many miles north and south, varying considerably in their size and productiveness. it is generally believed that the oyster arrives at maturity in its seventh year, that the pearl is then of full size and perfect lustre, and that if the oyster be not then secured it will shortly die, and the pearl be lost. it is certain that from some unexplained cause the oysters disappear from their known beds for years together. the dutch had no fishery from to , and it failed them again for twenty-seven years from to . the fishery was again interrupted between and , also from to , from to , and again from to . the fishery of was the first since , and produced a revenue of rs. , , being the third largest on record. in and the government sold the privilege of fishing the oyster-beds for £ , and £ , respectively. from that time the fishery was conducted by the government itself until , when it was leased to the ceylon pearl fisheries company for twenty years at a rent of £ , a year. professor herdman, f.r.s., was appointed to inquire and report on the conservation and cultivation of the ceylon pearl-oyster, and visited ceylon in january . in consequence of his report, a marine laboratory for the culture of the pearl oysters was established in galle harbour under the care of mr hornell. _mineral industries._--commercially there are two established mineral industries:--( ) that of digging for precious stones; and ( ) the much more important industry of digging for plumbago or graphite, the one mineral of commercial importance found. further developments may result in the shipment of the exceptionally pure iron ore found in different parts of ceylon, though still no coal has been found to be utilized with it. several places, too--ruanwella, rangalla, rangbodde, &c.--indicate where gold was found in the time of the kandyan kings; and geologists might possibly indicate a paying quartz reef, as in mysore. owing to the greatly increased demand in europe and america, plumbago in more than doubled in price, rising from £ to £ , and even £ a ton for the finest. latterly there has been a considerable fall, but the permanent demand is likely to continue keen in consequence mainly of the ceylon kind being the best for making crucibles. the trade with great britain and the united states has slightly decreased, but there has been a rapid expansion in the exports to belgium and holland, russia, japan and victoria; and the industry seems to be established on a sound basis. one consequence of its development has been to bring european and american capitalists and cornish and italian miners into a field hitherto almost entirely worked by sinhalese. though some of the mines were carried to a depth of ft., the work was generally very primitive in character, and western methods of working are sure to lead to greater safety and economy. besides a royalty or customs duty of rupees (about s. d.) per ton on all plumbago exported, the government issue licenses at moderate rates for the digging of plumbago on crown lands, a certain share of the resulting mineral also going to government. the plumbago industry, in all its departments of mining, carting, preparing, packing and shipping, gives employment to fully , men and women, still almost entirely sinhalese. the wealthiest mine-owners, too, are sinhalese land-owners or merchants. as regards _gems_, there are perhaps gem pits or quarries worked in the island during the dry season from november to june in the ratnapura, rakwane and matara districts. some of these are on a small scale; but altogether several thousands of sinhalese find a precarious existence in digging for gems. rich finds of a valuable ruby, sapphire, cat's-eye, amethyst, alexandrite or star stone, are comparatively rare; it is only of the commoner gems, such as moonstone, garnet, spinels, that a steady supply is obtained. the cat's-eye in its finer qualities is peculiar to ceylon, and is occasionally in great demand, according to the fashion. the obstacle to the investment of european capital in "gemming" has always been the difficulty of preventing the native labourers in the pits---even if practically naked--from concealing and stealing gems. a chamber of mines, with a suitable library, was established in colombo during . _manufactures._--little is done save in the preparation in factories and stores, in colombo or on the plantations, of the several products exported. the manufacture of jewellery and preparation of precious stones, and, among native women and children, of pillow lace, give employment to several thousands. iron and engineering works are numerous in colombo and in the planting districts. the sinhalese are skilful cabinetmakers and carpenters. the moormen and tamils furnish good masons and builders. _commerce._--there has been rapid development since , and the returns for showed a total value of ½ millions sterling. the principal imports were articles of food and drink (chiefly rice from india) manufactured metals (with specie), coal, cotton yarns and piece goods from manchester, machinery and millwork and apparel. the ceylon customs tariff for imports is one of ½% _ad valorem_, save in the case of intoxicating drinks, arms, ammunition, opium, &c. the chief export is tea. _roads._--the policy of the sinhalese rulers of the interior was to exclude strangers from the hill country. prior to the british occupation of the kandyan territory in , the only means of access from one district to another was by footpaths through the forests. the portuguese do not appear to have attempted to open up the country below the hills, and the dutch confined themselves to the improvement of the inland water-communications. the british government saw from the first the necessity of making roads into the interior for military purposes, and, more recently, for developing the resources of the country. the credit of opening up the country is due mainly to the governor, sir edward barnes, by whose direction the great military road from colombo to kandy was made. gradually all the military stations were connected by broad tracks, which by degrees were bridged and converted into good carriage roads. the governors sir henry ward and sir hercules robinson recognized the importance of giving the coffee planters every assistance in opening up the country, and the result of their policy is that the whole of the hill country is now intersected by a vast number of splendid roads, made at a cost of upwards of £ per mile. in an ordinance was passed to levy from every adult male in the colony (except buddhist priests and british soldiers) six days' labour on the roads, or an equivalent in money. the labour and money obtained by this wise measure have enabled the local authorities to connect the government highways by minor roads, which bring every village of importance into communication with the principal towns. _railways._--after repeated vain attempts by successive governors to connect colombo with the interior by railways, sir charles maccarthy successfully set on foot a railway of m. in length from colombo to kandy. the railway mileage had developed to m. in , including one of the finest mountain lines in the world--over m. long, rising to ft. above sea-level, and falling at the terminus to ft. the towns of kandy, matale, gampola, nawalapitiya, hatton and haputale (and practically nuwara eliya) in the hills, are thus connected by rail, and in the low country the towns of kurunegala, galle, matara, kalutara, &c. most of the debt on the railways (all government lines) is paid off, and the traffic receipts now make up nearly one-third of the general revenue. an indo-ceylon railway to connect the indian and ceylon systems has been the subject of separate reports and estimates by engineers serving the ceylon and indian governments, who have pronounced the work across the coral reef between manaar and rameswaram quite feasible. a commission sat in to consider the gauge of an indo-ceylon railway. such a line promised to serve strategic as well as commercial purposes, and to make colombo more than ever the port for southern india. the headquarters of the mail steamers have been removed from galle to colombo, where the colonial government have constructed a magnificent breakwater, and undertaken other harbour works which have greatly augmented both the external trade and the coasting trade of the island. _government._--ceylon is a crown colony, that is, a possession of the british crown acquired by conquest or cession, the affairs of which are administered by a governor, who receives his appointment from the crown, generally for a term of six years. he is assisted by an executive and a legislative council. the executive council acts as the cabinet of the governor, and consists of the attorney-general, the three principal officers of the colony (namely, the colonial secretary, the treasurer and the auditor-general), and the general in command of the forces. the legislative council includes, besides the governor as president and nine official members, eight unofficial members--one for the kandyan sinhalese (or highlanders) and one for the "moormen" having been added in . the term of office for the unofficial members is limited to five years, though the governor may reappoint if he choose. the king's advocate, the deputy-advocate, and the surveyor-general are now respectively styled attorney-general, solicitor-general, and director of public works. the civil service has been reconstituted into five classes, not including the colonial secretary as a staff appointment, nor ten cadets; these five classes number seventy officers. the district judges can punish up to two years' imprisonment, and impose fines up to rs. . the police magistrates can pass sentences up to six months' imprisonment, and impose fines of rs. . the criminal law has since been codified on the model of the indian penal code; criminal and civil procedure have also been the subject of codification. there are twenty-three prisons in the island, mostly small; but convict establishments in and near the capital take all long-sentence prisoners. _banks and currency._--ceylon has agencies of the national bank of india, bank of madras, mercantile bank of india, chartered bank of india, australia and china, and of the hong-kong and shanghai bank, besides mercantile agencies of other banks, also a government savings bank at colombo, and post-office savings banks all over the island. in , on the failure of the oriental bank, the notes in currency were guaranteed by government, and a government note currency was started in supersession of bank notes. the coin currency of ceylon is in rupees and decimals of a rupee, the value of the standard following that fixed for the indian rupee, about s. d. per rupee. _finance._--with the disease of the coffee plant the general revenue fell from rs. , , , in to rs. , , , in , when trade was in a very depressed state, and the general prosperity of the island was seriously affected. since then, however, the revenue has steadily risen with the growing export of tea, cocoa-nut produce, plumbago, &c., and in it reached a total of millions of rupees. (j. f. d.; c. l.) _history._--the island of ceylon was known to the greeks and romans under the name of _taprobane_, and in later times serendib, sirinduil and zeylan have been employed to designate it by writers of the western and eastern worlds. serendib is a corruption of the sanskrit _sinhaladvïpa_. like most oriental countries, ceylon possesses a great mass of ancient records, in which fact is so confused with fable that they are difficult to distinguish. the labours of george turnour ( - ), however, helped to dissipate much of this obscurity, and his admirable edition ( ) of the _mahavamsa_ first made it possible to trace the main lines of sinhalese history. the sinhalese inscriptional records, to which george turnour first called attention, and which, through the activity of sir william gregory in , began to be accurately transcribed and translated, extend from the nd century b.c. onwards. among the oldest inscriptions discovered are those on the rock cells of the vessagiri vihara of anuradhapura, cut in the old brahma-lipi character. the inscriptions show how powerful was the buddhist hierarchy which dominated the government and national life. the royal decrees of successive rulers are mainly concerned with the safeguarding of the rights of the hierarchy, but a few contain references to executive acts of the kings, as in a slab inscription of kassapa v. (c. a.d. - ). in an edict ascribed to mahinda iv. (c. a.d. - ) reference is made to the sinhalese palladium, the famous tooth-relic of buddha, now enshrined at kandy, and the decree confirms tradition as to the identity of the fine stone temple, east of the thuparama at anuradhapura, with the shrine in which the tooth was first deposited when brought from kalinga in the reign of kirti sri meghavarna (a.d. - ). the earliest inhabitants of ceylon were probably the ancestors of the modern veddahs, a small tribe of primitive hunters who inhabit the eastern jungles; and the discovery of palaeolithic stone implements buried in some of their caves points to the fact that they represent a race which has been in the island for untold ages. as to subsequent immigrations, the great hindu epic, the _ramayana_, tells the story of the conquest of part of the island by the hero rama and his followers, who took the capital of its king rawana. whatever element of truth there may be in this fable, it certainly represents no permanent occupation. the authentic history of ceylon, so far as it can be traced, begins with the landing in b.c. of vijaya, the founder of the sinhalese dynasty, with a small band of aryan-speaking followers from the mainland of india. vijaya married the daughter of a native chief, with whose aid he proceeded to master the whole island, which he parcelled out among his followers, some of whom formed petty kingdoms. the sinhalese introduced from the mainland a comparatively high type of civilization, notably agriculture. the earliest of the great irrigation tanks, near anuradhapura, was opened about b.c. by the successor of vijaya; and about this time was established that system of village communities which still obtains over a large part of ceylon. the island was converted to buddhism at the beginning of the rd century b.c. by the preaching of mahinda, a son of the great buddhist emperor asoka; a conversion that was followed by an immense multiplication of _daghobas_, curious bell-shaped reliquaries of solid stone, and of buddhist monasteries. for the rest, the history of ancient ceylon is largely a monotonous record of malabar or tamil invasions, conquests and usurpations. of these latter the first was in b.c. when two officers in the cavalry and fleet revolted, overthrew the sinhalese ruler with the aid of his own tamil mercenaries, and reigned jointly, as sena i. and guptika, until . the sinhalese asela then ruled till , when he was overthrown by a tamil from tanjore, elala, who held the reins of power for years. in b.c. elala was defeated and slain by dutegemunu, still remembered as one of the great sinhalese heroes of ceylon. the ruins of the great monastery, known as the brazen palace, at anuradhapura, remain a memorial of king dutegemunu's splendour and religious zeal. he died in b.c., and thenceforth the history of ceylon is mainly that of further tamil invasions, of the construction of irrigation tanks, and of the immense development of the buddhist monastic system. a tragic episode in the royal family in the th century a.d. is, however, worthy of notice as connected with one of ceylon's most interesting remains, the sigiri rock and tank (see sigiri). in a.d. king datu sen was murdered by his son, who mounted the throne as kasyapa i., and when he was driven from the capital by the inhabitants, infuriated by his crime, built himself a stronghold on the inaccessible sigiri rock, whence he ruled the country until in he was overthrown and slain by his brother mugallana ( - ), who at the time of his father's murder had escaped to india. towards the close of the th century ceylon was invaded by rajaraja the great, the chola king, and after a series of protracted campaigns was annexed to his empire in . the island, did not, however, remain long under tamil domination. in vijaya bahu succeeded in re-establishing the sinhalese dynasty, and for a while ceylon was freed from foreign intervention. the most notable of the successors of vijaya bahu, and indeed of all the long line of sinhalese rulers, was parakrama bahu i. ( - ), whose colossal statue still stands near polonnaruwa. he not only took advantage of the unaccustomed tranquillity of the country to restore the irrigation tanks and the monasteries, but he availed himself of a disputed succession to the pandya throne of madura to turn the tables on his tamil enemies by invading india. according to the _mahavamsa_ his generals met with immediate and unbroken success; according to the more probable account preserved in a long chola inscription at arpakkam near kanchi, they were, though at first successful, ultimately driven out by a coalition of the southern princes (v.a. smith, _early history of india_, ed. , p. ). in any case, within thirty years of parakrama bahu's death his work was undone; the malabar invaders were once more able to effect a settlement in the island, and the sinhalese capital was moved farther and farther south, till in it had become established at kotta, now a suburb of colombo. in a new misfortune had befallen the sinhalese dynasty; in revenge for an insult offered to a chinese envoy, a chinese army invaded the island and carried away king vijaya bahu iv. into captivity. for thirty years from this date the sinhalese kings of ceylon were tributary to china. when, in , the portuguese francisco de almeida landed in ceylon, he found the island divided into seven kingdoms. twelve years later the viceroy of goa ordered the erection of a fort at colombo, for which permission was obtained from the king of kotta; and from this time until the advent of the dutch in the th century the portuguese endeavoured, amid perpetual wars with the native kings, who were assisted by arab and other traders jealous of european rivalry, to establish their control over the island. they ultimately succeeded so far as the coast was concerned, though their dominion scarcely penetrated inland. materially their gain was but small, for the trade of ceylon was quite insignificant; but they had the spiritual satisfaction of prosecuting a vigorous propaganda of catholicism, st francis xavier being the most notable of the missionaries who at this time laboured in the island. the fanatical zeal and the masterful attitude of the portuguese were a constant source of dissension with the native rulers, and when the dutch, under admiral spilberg, landed on the east coast in and sought the alliance of the king of kandy in the interior of the island, every inducement was held out to them to aid in expelling the portuguese. nothing seems to have come of this until - , when a dutch expedition attacked and razed the portuguese forts on the east coast. in the following year they landed at negombo, without however establishing themselves in any strong post. in negombo was captured and fortified by the dutch, while in they took colombo, and in they drove the portuguese from jaffna, their last stronghold in ceylon. pursuing a wiser policy than their predecessors, the dutch lost no opportunity of improving that portion of the country which owned their supremacy, and of opening a trade with the interior. more tolerant and less disposed to stand upon their dignity than the portuguese, they subordinated political to commercial ends, flattered the native rulers by a show of deference, and so far succeeded in their object as to render their trade between the island and holland a source of great profit. many new branches of industry were developed. public works were undertaken on a large scale, and education, if not universally placed within the reach of the inhabitants of the maritime provinces, was at least well cared for on a broad plan of government supervision. that which they had so much improved by policy, they were, however, unable to defend by force when the british turned their arms against them. a century and a half had wrought great changes in the physical and mental status of the dutch colonists. the territory which in they had slowly gained by undaunted and obstinate bravery, they as rapidly lost in by imbecility and cowardice. the first intercourse of the english with ceylon was as far back as , when an embassy was despatched from madras to the king of kandy, without, however, leading to any result. on the rupture between great britain and holland in , a force was sent against the dutch possessions in ceylon, where the opposition offered was so slight that by the following year the whole of their forts were in the hands of the english commander. the abiding results of the occupation of ceylon by the portuguese and dutch is described by sir emerson tennent (_ceylon_) as follows: "the dominion of the netherlands in ceylon was nearly equal in duration with that of portugal, about years; but the policies of the two countries have left a very different impress on the character and institutions of the people amongst whom they lived. the most important bequest left by the utilitarian genius of holland is the code of roman dutch law, which still prevails in the supreme courts of justice, whilst the fanatical propagandism of the portuguese has reared for itself a monument in the abiding and expanding influence of the roman catholic faith. this flourishes in every hamlet and province where it was implanted by the franciscans, whilst the doctrines of the reformed church of holland, never preached beyond the walls of the fortresses, are already almost forgotten throughout the island, with the exception of an expiring community at colombo. already the language of the dutch, which they sought to extend by penal enactments, has ceased to be spoken even by their direct descendants, whilst a corrupted portuguese is to the present day the vernacular of the lower classes in every town of importance. as the practical and sordid government of the netherlands only recognized the interest of the native population in so far as they were essential to uphold their trading monopolies, their memory was recalled by no agreeable associations: whilst the portuguese, who, in spite of their cruelties, were identified with the people by the bond of a common faith, excited a feeling of admiration by the boldness of their conflicts with the kandyans, and the chivalrous though ineffectual defence of their beleaguered fortresses. the dutch and their proceedings have almost ceased to be remembered by the lowland sinhalese; but the chiefs of the south and west perpetuate with pride the honorific title don, accorded to them by their first european conquerors, and still prefix to their ancient patronymics the sonorous christian names of the portuguese." the british forces by which the island had been conquered were those of the east india company, and ceylon was therefore at first placed under its jurisdiction and administered from madras. the introduction of the madras revenue system, however, together with a host of malabar collectors, led to much discontent, which culminated in rebellion; and in the colony was placed directly under the crown. by the treaty of amiens, in , this situation was regularized, from the international point of view, by the formal cession to great britain of the former dutch possessions in the island. for a while the british dominion was confined to the coast. the central tract of hilly country, hedged in by impenetrable forests and precipitous mountain ranges, remained in possession of sri vikrama raja sinha, the last of the sinhalese dynasty, who showed no signs of encouraging communication with his european neighbours. minor differences led in to an invasion of the kandyan territory; but sickness, desertion and fatigue proved more formidable adversaries to the british forces than the troops of the sinhalese monarch, and peace was eventually concluded upon terms by no means favourable to the english. the cruelty and oppression of the king now became so intolerable to his subjects that disaffection spread rapidly amongst them. punishments of the most horrible kinds were inflicted, but failed to repress the popular indignation; and in the british, at the urgent request of many of the adigars and other native chiefs, proceeded against the tyrant, who was captured near kandy, and subsequently ended his days in exile. with him ended a long line of sovereigns, whose pedigree may be traced through upwards of two thousand years. by a convention entered into with the kandyan chiefs on the nd of march , the entire sovereignty of the island passed into the hands of the british, who in return guaranteed to the inhabitants civil and religious liberty. the religion of buddha was declared inviolable, and its rights, ministers and places of worship were to be maintained and protected; the laws of the country were to be preserved and administered according to established forms; and the royal dues and revenues were to be levied as before for the support of government. with the exception of a serious outbreak in some parts of the interior in , which lasted for upwards of a year, and of two minor attempts at rebellion easily put down, in and , the political atmosphere of ceylon has remained undisturbed since the deportation of the last king of kandy. authorities.--major thomas skinner, _fifty years in ceylon_, edited by his son, a. skinner (london, ); constance f. gordon gumming, _two happy years in ceylon_ ( vols., edinburgh, ); h.w. cave, _the ruined cities of ceylon_ (london, ), and _the book of ceylon_ (london, ); sir emerson tennent, _ceylon_ ( vols. th ed., ); j. ferguson, _ceylon in _ (colombo); j.c. willis, _ceylon_ (colombo, ). see also e. müller, _ancient inscriptions in ceylon_, published for the government ( - ), and the important archaeological survey in _epigraphia zeylonica_, part i., , ii., , iii., , by don martino de silva wickremasinghe, who in was appointed epigraphist to the ceylon government. among other works on special subjects may be mentioned h. trimen, f.r.s., director of ceylon botanic gardens, _ceylon flora_, in vols., completed by sir joseph hooker; captain v. legge, f.z.s., _history of the birds of ceylon_ (london, ); dr copleston, bishop of colombo, _buddhism, primitive and present, in magadha and in ceylon_ (london, ); review by sir west ridgeway, _administration of ceylon, - _; professor w.a. herdman, _report on the pearl oyster fisheries, - _. chabazite, a mineral species belonging to the group of zeolites. it occurs as white to flesh-red crystals which vary from transparent to translucent and have a vitreous lustre. the crystals are rhombohedral, and the predominating form is often a rhombohedron (r) with interfacial angles of ° '; they therefore closely resemble cubes in appearance, and the mineral was in fact early (in ) described as a cubic zeolite. a characteristic feature is the twinning, the crystals being frequently interpenetration twins with the principal axis as twin-axis (figs, , ). the appearance shown in fig. , with the corners of small crystals in twinned position projecting from the faces r of the main crystal, is especially characteristic of chabazite. such groups resemble the interpenetrating twinned cubes of fluorspar, but the two minerals are readily distinguished by their cleavage, fluorspar having a perfect octahedral cleavage truncating the corners of the cube, whilst in chabazite there are less distinct cleavages parallel to the rhombohedral (cube-like) faces. another type of twinned crystal is represented in fig. , in which the predominating form is an obtuse hexagonal pyramid (t); the faces of these flatter crystals are often rounded, giving rise to lenticular shapes, hence the name phacolite (from [greek: phakos], a lentil) for this variety of chabazite. [illustration: fig. . fig. . twinned crystals of chabazite.] the hardness of chabazite is ½, and the specific gravity . - . . as first noticed by sir david brewster in , the crystals often exhibit anomalous optical characters: instead of being uniaxial, a basal section may be divided into sharply-defined biaxial sectors. heating of the crystals is attended by a loss of water and a change in their optical characters; it is probable therefore that the anomalous optical characters are dependent on the amount of water present. besides phacolite, mentioned above, other varieties of chabazite are distinguished. herschelite and seebachite are essentially the same as phacolite. haydenite is the name given to small yellowish crystals, twinned on a rhombohedron plane r, from jones's falls near baltimore in maryland. acadialite is a reddish chabazite from nova scotia (the old french name of which is acadie). chemically, chabazite is a complex hydrated calcium and sodium silicate, with a small proportion of the sodium replaced by potassium, and sometimes a small amount of the calcium replaced by barium and strontium. the composition is however variable, and is best expressed as an isomorphous mixture of the molecules (ca, na ) al (sio ) + h o and (ca, na ) al (si o ) + h o, which are analogous to the felspars. most analyses correspond with a formula midway between these extremes, namely, (ca, na )al (sio ) + h o. chabazite occurs with other zeolites in the amygdaloidal cavities of basaltic rocks; occasionally it has been found in gneisses and schists. well-formed crystals are known from many localities; for example, kilmalcolm in renfrewshire, the giant's causeway in co. antrim, and oberstein in germany. beautiful, clear glassy crystals of the phacolite ("seebachite") variety occur with phillipsite and radiating bundles of brown calcite in cavities in compact basalt near richmond, melbourne, victoria. small crystals have been observed lining the cavities of fossil shells from iceland, and in the recent deposits of the hot springs of plombières and bourbonne-les-bains in france. gmelinite and levynite are other species of zeolites which may be mentioned here, since they are closely related to chabazite, and like it are rhombohedral and frequently twinned. gmelinite forms large flesh-red crystals usually of hexagonal habit, and was early known as soda-chabazite, it having the composition of chabazite but with sodium predominating over calcium (na , ca)al (sio ) h o. the formula of levynite is caal si o + h o. (l. j. s.) chablis, a town of north-central france, in the department of yonne, on the left bank of the serein, m. e. by n. of auxerre by road. pop. ( ) . its church of st martin belongs to the end of the th century. the town gives its name to a well-known white wine produced in the neighbouring vineyards, of which the most esteemed are clos, bouguerots, moutonne, grenouille, montmaires, lys and vaux-désirs. there are manufactures of biscuits. chabot, franÇois ( - ), french revolutionist, had been a franciscan friar before the revolution, and after the civil constitution of the clergy continued to act as "constitutional" priest, becoming grand vicar of henri grégoire, bishop of blois. then he was elected to the legislative assembly, sitting at the extreme left, and forming with c. bazire and merlin de thionville the "cordelier trio." re-elected to the convention he voted for the death of louis xvi., and opposed the proposal to prosecute the authors of the massacre of september, "because among them there are heroes of jemmapes." some of his sayings are well known, such as that christ was the first "_sans-culotte_." compromised in the falsification of a decree suppressing the india company and in a plot to bribe certain members of the convention, especially fabre d'eglantine and c. bazire, he was arrested, brought before the revolutionary tribunal, and was condemned and executed at the same time as the dantonists, who protested against being associated with such a "_fripon_." chabot, georges antoine, known as chabot de l'allier ( - ), french jurist and statesman, was president of the tribunal of montluçon when he was elected as a deputy _suppléant_ to the national convention. a member of the council of the ancients, then of the tribunate, he was president of the latter when the peace of amiens was signed. he had a resolution adopted, tending to give napoleon bonaparte the consulship for life; and in supported the proposal to establish a hereditary monarchy. napoleon named him inspector-general of the law schools, then judge of the court of cassation. he published various legal works, e.g. _tableau de la législation ancienne sur les successions et de la législation nouvelle établie par le code civil_ (paris, ), and _questions fransitoires sur le code napoléon_ (paris, ). chabot, philippe de, seigneur de brion, count of charny and buzanÇais (c. - ), admiral of france. the chabot family was one of the oldest and most powerful in poitou. philippe was a cadet of the jarnac branch. he was a companion of francis i. as a child, and on that king's accession was loaded with honours and estates. after the battle of pavia he was made admiral of france and governor of burgundy ( ), and shared with anne de montmorency the direction of affairs. he was at the height of his power in , and commanded the army for the invasion of the states of the duke of savoy; but in the campaigns of and he was eclipsed by montmorency, and from that moment his influence began to wane. he was accused by his enemies of peculation, and condemned on the th of february to a fine of , , livres, to banishment, and to the confiscation of his estates. through the good offices of madam d'Étampes, however, he obtained the king's pardon almost immediately (march ), was reinstated in his posts, and regained his estates and even his influence, while montmorency in his turn was disgraced. but his health was affected by these troubles, and he died soon afterwards on the st of june . his tomb in the louvre, by an unknown sculptor, is a fine example of french renaissance work. it was his nephew, guy chabot, seigneur de jarnac, who fought the famous duel with françois de vivonne, seigneur de la châtaigneraie, in , at the beginning of the reign of henry ii. the main authorities for chabot's life are his ms. correspondence in the bibliothèque nationale, paris, and contemporary memoirs. see also e de barthélemy, "chabot de brion," in the _revue des questions historiques_ (vol. xx. ); martineau, "l'amiral chabot," in the _positions des thèses de l'École des chartes_ ( ). chabrias ( th century b.c.), a celebrated athenian general. in b.c. he defeated the spartans at aegina and commanded the fleet sent to assist evagoras, king of cyprus, against the persians. in , when athens entered into an alliance with, thebes against sparta, he defeated agesilaus near thebes. on this occasion he invented a manoeuvre, which consisted in receiving a charge on the left knee, with shields resting on the ground and spears pointed against the enemy. in he gained a decisive victory over the spartan fleet off naxos, but, when he might have destroyed the spartan fleet, remembering the fate of the generals at arginusae, he delayed to pick up the bodies of his dead. later, when the athenians changed sides and joined the spartans, he repulsed epaminondas before the walls of corinth. in , together with callistratus, he was accused of treachery in advising the surrender of oropus to the thebans. he was acquitted, and soon after he accepted a command under tachos, king of egypt, who had revolted against persia. but on the outbreak of the social war ( ) he joined chares in the command of the athenian fleet. he lost his life in an attack on the island of chios. see cornelius nepos, _chabrias_; xenophon, _hellenica_, v. - ; diod. sic. xv. - ; and c. rehdantz, _vitae iphicratis, chabriae, et timothei_ ( ); art. delian league, section b, and authorities there quoted. chabrier, alexis emmanuel ( - ), french composer, was born at ambert, puy de dôme, on the th of january . at first he only cultivated music as an amateur, and it was not until that he threw up an administration appointment in order to devote himself entirely to the art. he had two years previously written an _opéra bouffe_ entitled _l'Étoile_, which was performed at the bouffes parisiens. in he was appointed chorus-master of the concerts then recently established by lamoureux. in he composed the brilliant orchestral rhapsody entitled _españa_, the themes of which he had jotted down when travelling in spain. his opera _gwendoline_ was brought out with considerable success at brussels on the th of april , and was given later at the paris grand opéra. the following year , _le roi malgré lui_, an opera of a lighter description, was produced in paris at the opéra comique, its run being interrupted by the terrible fire by which this theatre was destroyed. his last opera, _briseis_, was left unfinished, and performed in a fragmentary condition at the paris opéra, after the composer's death in paris on the th of september . chabrier was also the author of a set of piano pieces entitled _pièces pittoresques, valses romantiques_, for two pianos, a fantasia for horn and piano, &c. his great admiration for wagner asserted itself in _gwendoline_, a work which, in spite of inequalities due to want of experience, is animated by a high artistic ideal, is poetically conceived, and shows considerable harmonic originality, besides a thorough mastery over the treatment of the orchestra. the characteristics of _le roi malgré lui_ have been well summed up by m. joncières when he alludes to "cette verve inépuisable, ces rythmes endiablés, cette exubérance de gaieté et de vigueur, à laquelle venait se joindre la note mélancolique et émue." chabrier's premature death prevented him from giving the full measure of his worth. chacma, the hottentot name of the cape baboon, _papio porcarius_, a species inhabiting the mountains of south africa as far north as the zambezi. of the approximate size of an english mastiff, this powerful baboon is blackish grey in colour with a tinge of green due to the yellow rings on most of the hairs. unlike most of its tribe, it is a good climber; and where wooded cliffs are not available, will take up its quarters in tall trees. chacmas frequently strip orchards and fruit-gardens, break and devour ostrich eggs, and kill lambs and kids for the sake of the milk in their stomachs. chaco, a territory of northern argentina, part of a large district known as the gran chaco, bounded n. by the territory of formosa, e. by paraguay and corrientes, s. by santa fé, and w. by santiago del estero and salta. the bermejo river forms its northern boundary, and the paraguay and paraná rivers its eastern; these rivers are its only means of communication. pop. ( ) , ; ( , est.) , ; area, , sq. m. the northern part consists of a vast plain filled with numberless lagoons; the southern part is slightly higher and is covered with dense forests, occasionally broken by open grassy spaces. its forests contain many species of trees of great economic value; among them is the _quebracho_, which is exported for the tannin which it contains. the capital, resistencia, with an estimated population of in , is situated on the paraná river opposite the city of corrientes. there is railway communication between santa fé and la sabana, an insignificant timber-cutting village on the southern frontier. in the territory there are still several tribes of uncivilized indians, who occasionally raid the neighbouring settlements of santa fé. chaconne (span. _chacona_), a slow dance, introduced into spain by the moors, now obsolete. it resembles the passacaglia. the word is used also of the music composed for this dance--a slow stately movement in ¾ time. such a movement was often introduced into a sonata, and formed the conventional finale to an opera or ballet until the time of gluck. chad [ceadda], saint (d. ), brother of cedd, whom he succeeded as abbot at lastingham, was consecrated bishop of the northumbrians by wine, the west saxon bishop, at the request of oswio in . on the return of wilfrid from france, where he had been sent to be consecrated to the same see, a dispute of course arose, which was settled by theodore in favour of wilfrid after three years had passed. chad thereupon retired to lastingham, whence with the permission of oswio he was summoned by wulfhere of mercia to succeed his bishop jaruman, who died . chad built a monastery at barrow in lincolnshire and fixed his see at lichfield. he died after he had held his bishopric in mercia two and a half years, and was succeeded by wynfrith. bede gives a beautiful character of chad. see bede's _hist. eccl._ edited by c. plummer, iii. , , ; iv. , (oxford, ); eddius, _vita wilfridi_, xiv., xv. edited by j. raine, rolls series (london, ). chad, a lake of northern central africa lying between ° ' and ° ' n. and ° and ° e. the lake is situated about ft. above the sea in the borderland between the fertile and wooded regions of the sudan on the south and the arid steppes which merge into the sahara on the north. the area of the lake is shrinking owing to the progressive desiccation of the country, saharan climate and conditions replacing those of the sudan. the drying-up process has been comparatively rapid since the middle of the th century, a town which in was on the southern margin of the lake being in over m. from it. on the west the shore is perfectly flat, so that a slight rise in the water causes the inundation of a considerable area--a fact not without its influence on the estimates made at varying periods as to the size of the lake. around the north-west and north shores is a continuous chain of gently sloping sand-hills covered with bush. this region abounds in big game and birds are plentiful. in the east, the country of kanem, the desiccation has been most marked. along this coast is a continuous chain of islands running from north-west to south-east. but what were islands when viewed by overweg in , formed in part of the mainland and new islands had arisen in the lake. they are generally low, being composed of sand and clay, and lie from to m. from the shore, which throughout its eastern side nowhere faces open water. the channels between the islands do not exceed m. in width. two principal groups are distinguished, the kuri archipelago in the south, and the buduma in the north. the inhabitants of the last-named islands were noted pirates until reduced to order by the french. the coast-line is, in general, undefined and marshy, and broken into numerous bays and peninsulas. it is also, especially on the east, lined by lagoons which communicate with the lake by intricate channels. the lake is nowhere of great depth, and about midway numerous mud-banks, marshes, islands and dense growths of aqueous plants stretch across its surface. another stretch of marsh usually cuts off the northernmost part of the lake from the central sections. the open water varies in depth from ft. in the north-west to over in the south, where desiccation is less apparent. fed by the shari (q.v.) and other rivers, the lake has no outlet and its area varies according to the season. the flood water brought down by the shari in december and january causes the lake to rise to a maximum of ft., the water spreading over low-lying ground, left dry again in may or june. but after several seasons of heavy rainfall the waters have remained for years beyond their low-water level. nevertheless the secular shrinking goes on, the loss by evaporation and percolation exceeding the amount of water received; whilst, on the average, the rainfall is diminishing. in the lake rose to an exceptional height, but since then, save in , there has been only the normal seasonal rise. the prevalent north-east wind causes at times a heavy swell on the lake. fish abound in its waters, which are sweet, save at low-level, when they become brackish. the lagoons are believed to act as purifying pans in which the greater part of the salt in the water is precipitated. in the south-west end of the lake the water is yellow, caused by banks of clay; elsewhere it is clear. [illustration: lake chad] the southern basin of chad is described under the shari, which empties its waters into the lake about the middle of the southern shore, forming a delta of considerable extent. beyond the south-east corner of the lake is a depression known as the bahr-el-ghazal (not to be confounded with the nile affluent of the same name). this depression is the termination of what is in all probability the bed of one of the dried-up saharan rivers. coming from the tibesti highlands the bahr-el-ghazal has a south-westerly trend to lake chad. near the lake the valley was formerly swampy, and at high-water the lake overflowed into it. there was also at one time communication between the shari and the bahr-el-ghazal, so that the water of the first-named stream reached chad by way of the bahr-el-ghazal. there is now neither inlet nor outlet to the lake in this direction, the mouth of the ghazal having become a fertile millet field. there is still, however, a distinct current from the shari delta to the east end of the lake--known to the natives, like the depression beyond, as the bahr-el-ghazal--indicative of the former overflow outlet. besides the shari, the only important stream entering lake chad is the waube or yo (otherwise the komadugu yobe), which rises near kano, and flowing eastward enters the lake on its western side m. north of kuka. in the rains the waube carries down a considerable body of water to the lake. lake chad is supposed to have been known by report to ptolemy, and is identified by some writers with the kura lake of the middle ages. it was first seen by white men in when it was reached by way of tripoli by the british expedition under dr walter oudney, r.n., the other members being captain hugh clapperton and major (afterwards lieut.-colonel) dixon denham. by them the lake was named waterloo. in james richardson, accompanied by heinrich barth and adolf overweg, reached the lake, also via tripoli, and overweg was the first european to navigate its waters ( ). the lake was visited by eduard vogel ( ) and by gustav nachtigal ( ), the last-named investigating its hydrography in some detail. in - its shores were divided by treaty between great britain, france and germany. the first of these nations to make good its footing in the region was france. a small steamer, brought from the congo by emile gentil, was in launched on the shari, and reaching the chad, navigated the southern part of the lake. communication between algeria and lake chad by way of the sahara was opened, after repeated failures, by the french explorer f. foureau in - . at the same time a french officer, lieut. joalland, reached the lake from the middle niger, continuing his journey round the north end to kanem. a british force under colonel t.l.n. morland visited the lake at the beginning of , and in may of the same year the germans first reached it from cameroon. in - french officers under colonel destenave made detailed surveys of the south-eastern and eastern shores and the adjacent islands. in captain e. lenfant, also a french officer, succeeded in reaching the lake (which he circumnavigated) via the benue, proving the existence of water communication between the shari and the niger. in lieut. boyd alexander, a british officer, further explored the lake, which then contained few stretches of open water. the lake is bordered w. and s.w. by bornu, which is partly in the british protectorate of nigeria and partly in the german protectorate of cameroon. bagirmi to the s.e. of the lake and kanem to the n.e. are both french possessions. the north and north-west shores also belong to france. one of the ancient trade routes across the sahara--that from tripoli to kuka in bornu--strikes the lake at its north-west corner, but this has lost much of its former importance. see the works of denham, clapperton, barth and nachtigal cited in the biographical notices; _geog. journal_, vol. xxiv. ( ); capt. tilho in _la géographie_ (march ); boyd alexander, _from the niger to the nile_, vol. i. (london, ); a. chevalier, _mission chari-lac tchad - _ (paris ); e. lenfant, _la grande route du tchad_ (paris, ); h. freydenberg, _Étude sur le tchad et le bassin du chari_ (paris, ). chadderton, an urban district of lancashire, england, within the parliamentary borough of oldham (q.v.). pop. ( ) , . cotton and chemical works, and the coal-mines of the neighbourhood, employ the large industrial population. chaderton, laurence (? - ), puritan divine, was born at lees hall, in the parish of oldham, lancashire, probably in september , being the second son of edmund chaderton, a gentleman of an ancient and wealthy family, and a zealous catholic. under the tuition of laurence vaux, a priest, he became an able scholar. in he entered christ's college, cambridge, where, after a short time, he formally adopted the reformed doctrines and was in consequence disinherited by his father. in he was elected a fellow of his college, and subsequently was chosen lecturer of st clement's church, cambridge, where he preached to admiring audiences for many years. he was a man of moderate views, though numbering among his friends extremists like cartwright and perkins. so great was his reputation that when sir walter mildmay founded emmanuel college in he chose chaderton for the first master, and on his expressing some reluctance, declared that if he would not accept the office the foundation should not go on. in chaderton was appointed one of the four divines for managing the cause of the puritans at the hampton court conference; and he was also one of the translators of the bible. in he had taken the degree of b.d., and in he was created d.d. at this period he made provision for twelve fellows and above forty scholars in emmanuel college. fearing that he might have a successor who held arminian doctrines, he resigned the mastership in favour of john preston, but survived him, and lived also to see the college presided over successively by william sancroft (or sandcroft) and richard holdsworth. he died on the th of november at the age of about , preserving his bodily and mental faculties to the end. chaderton published a sermon preached at st paul's cross about , and a treatise of his _on justification_ was printed by anthony thysius, professor of divinity at leiden. some other works by him on theological subjects remain in manuscript. chadwick, sir edwin ( - ), english sanitary reformer, was born at longsight, near manchester, on the th of january . called to the bar without any independent means, he sought to support himself by literary work, and his essays in the _westminster review_ (mainly on different methods of applying scientific knowledge to the business of government) introduced him to the notice of jeremy bentham, who engaged him as a literary assistant and left him a handsome legacy. in he was employed by the royal commission appointed to inquire into the operation of the poor laws, and in he was made a full member of that body. in conjunction with nassau w. senior he drafted the celebrated report of which procured the reform of the old poor law. his special contribution was the institution of the union as the area of administration. he favoured, however, a much more centralized system of administration than was adopted, and he never ceased to complain that the reform of was fatally marred by the rejection of his views, which contemplated the management of poor-law relief by salaried officers controlled from a central board, the boards of guardians acting merely as inspectors. in he was appointed secretary to the poor law commissioners. finding himself unable to administer in accordance with his own views an act of which he was largely the author, his relations with his official chiefs became much strained, and the disagreement led, among other causes, to the dissolution of the poor law commission in . chadwick's chief contribution to political controversy was his constant advocacy of entrusting certain departments of local affairs to trained and selected experts, instead of to representatives elected on the principle of local self-government. while still officially connected with the poor law he had taken up the question of sanitation in conjunction with dr southwood smith, and their joint labours produced a most salutary improvement in the public health. his report on "the sanitary condition of the labouring population" ( ) is a valuable historical document. he was a commissioner of the board of health from its establishment in to its abolition in , when he retired upon a pension, and occupied the remainder of his life in voluntary contributions to sanitary and economical questions. he died at east sheen, surrey, on the th of july . he had been made k.c.b. in . see a volume on _the evils of disunity in central and local administration ... and the new centralization for the people_, by edwin chadwick ( ); also _the health of nations, a review of the works of edwin chadwick, with a biographical introduction_, by sir b. w. richardson ( ). chaeremon, athenian dramatist of the first half of the th century b.c. he is generally considered a tragic poet. aristotle (_rhetoric_, iii. ) says his works were intended for reading, not for representation. according to suidas, he was also a comic poet, and the title of at least one of his plays (_achilles slayer of thersites_) seems to indicate that it was a satyric drama. his _centaurus_ is described by aristotle (_poet._ i. ) as a rhapsody in all kinds of metres. the fragments of chaeremon are distinguished by correctness of form and facility of rhythm, but marred by a florid and affected style reminiscent of agathon. he especially excelled in descriptions (irrelevantly introduced) dealing with such subjects as flowers and female beauty. it is not agreed whether he is the author of three epigrams in the greek anthology (palatine vii. , , ) which bear his name. see h. bartsch, _de chaeremone poëta tragico_ ( ); fragments in a. nauck, _fragmenta tragicorum graecorum_. chaeremon, of alexandria ( st century a.d.), stoic philosopher and grammarian. he was superintendent of the portion of the alexandrian library that was kept in the temple of serapis, and as custodian and expounder of the sacred books ([greek: ierogrammateus] sacred scribe) belonged to the higher ranks of the priesthood. in a.d. he was summoned to rome, with alexander of aegae, to become tutor to the youthful nero. he was the author of a _history of egypt_; of works on _comets, egyptian astrology_, and _hieroglyphics_; and of a grammatical treatise on _expletive conjunctions_ ([greek: syndesmoi paraplêrôpaeromatikoi]). chaeremon was the chief of the party which explained the egyptian religious system as a mere allegory of the worship of nature. his books were not intended to represent the ideas of his egyptian contemporaries; their chief object was to give a description of the sanctity and symbolical secrets of ancient egypt. he can hardly be identical with the chaeremon who accompanied (c. b.c.; strabo xvii. p. ) aelius gallus, praefect of egypt, on a journey into the interior of the country. fragments in c. müller, _fragmenta historicorum graecorum_, iii. - . chaeroneia, or chaeronea, an ancient town of boeotia, said by some to be the homeric arne, situated about m. w. of orchomenus. until the th century b.c. it was a dependency of orchomenus, and at all times it played but a subordinate part in boeotian politics. its importance lay in its strategic position near the head of the defile which presents the last serious obstacle to an invader in central greece. two great battles were fought on this site in antiquity. in b.c. philip ii. and alexander of macedon were confronted by a confederate host from central greece and peloponnese under the leadership of thebes and athens, which here made the last stand on behalf of greek liberty. a hard-fought conflict, in which the greek infantry displayed admirable firmness, was decided in favour of philip through the superior organization of his army. in b.c. the roman general l. cornelius sulla defeated the army of mithradates vi., king of pontus, near chaeroneia. the latter's enormous numerical superiority was neutralized by sulla's judicious choice of ground and the steadiness of his legionaries; the asiatics after the failure of their attack were worn down and almost annihilated. chaeroneia is also notable as the birthplace of plutarch, who returned to his native town in old age, and was held in honour by its citizens for many successive generations. pausanias (ix. ) mentions the divine honours accorded at chaeroneia to the sceptre of agamemnon, the work of hephaestus (cf. _iliad_, ii. ). the site of the town is partly occupied by the village of kapraena; the ancient citadel was known as the petrachus, and there is a theatre cut in the rock. a colossal seated lion a little to the s.e. of the site marks the grave of the boeotians who fell fighting against philip; this lion was found broken to pieces; the tradition that it was blown up by odysseus androutsos is incorrect (see murray, _handbook for greece_, ed. , , p. ). it has now been restored and re-erected ( ). authorities.--thucydides iv. ; diodorus xvi. - ; plutarch, _alexander_, ch. ; _sulla_, chs. - ; appian, _mithradatica_, chs. - ; w.m. leake, _travels in northern greece_ (london, ), ii. - , - ; b.v. head, _historia numorum_ (oxford, ), p. ; j. kromayer, _antike schlachtfelder in griechenland_ (berlin, ), pp. - ; g. sotiriades in _athen. mitteil._ , pp. ff.; , p. ; , p. ; [greek: ephêm. archaiol.], , p. . chaetognatha, the name given by r. leuckhart to a small group of transparent and for the most part pelagic organisms, whose position in the animal kingdom is a very isolated one. only three genera, _sagitta_, _spadella_ and _krohnia_, are recognised, and the number of species is small. nevertheless these animals exist in extraordinary quantities, so that at certain seasons and under certain conditions the surface of the sea seems almost stiff with the incredible multitude of organisms which pervade it. rough seas, &c., cause them to seek safety in dropping into deeper water. deep-sea forms also occur, but in spite of this the group is essentially pelagic. [illustration: _spadella cephaloptera_ (busch). st, septa dividing body-cavity transversely. g², cerebral ganglia. n¹, commissure uniting this with ventral ganglion (not shown in fig.). n², nerve uniting cerebral ganglia with small ganglia on head. nr, olfactory nerve. d, alimentary canal. r, olfactory organ. te, tentacle. t, tactile hairs springing from surface of body. e, ovary. el, oviduct. ho, testes. sg, vas deferens. f², f³, lateral and caudal fins. sb, seminal pouch. the eyes are indicated as black dots behind the cerebral ganglia.] as a rule the body is some to or cm. in length, though some species are larger, by or mm. in breadth, and it is shaped something like a torpedo with side flanges and a slightly swollen, rounded head. it can be divided into three regions--(i.) head, (ii.) trunk, and (iii.) tail, separated from one another by two transverse septa. the almost spherical head is covered by a hood which can be retracted; it bears upon its side a number of sickle-shaped, chitinous hooks and one or more short rows of low spines--both of these features are used in characterizing the various species. a pair of eyes lie dorsally and behind them is a closed circlet, often pulled out into various shapes, of modified epidermis, to which an olfactory function has been attributed. the interior of the head is filled up with masses of muscle fibres which are mainly occupied with moving the sickle-shaped hooks. the trunk contains a spacious body-cavity filled during the breeding season by the swollen ovaries, and the same is true of the tail if we substitute testes for ovaries. the skin consists of a transparent cuticle excreted by the underlying ectoderm, the cells of which though usually one-layered may be heaped up into several layers in the head; beneath this is a basement membrane, and then a layer of longitudinal muscle fibres which are limited inside by a layer of peritoneal cells. the muscles are striated and arranged in four quadrants, two dorso-lateral and two ventro-lateral, an arrangement which recalls that of the nematoda, whilst in their histology they somewhat resemble the muscles of the oligochaeta. along each side of the body stretches a horizontal fin and a similar flange surrounds the tail. into these fins, which are largely cuticular and strengthened by radiating bars, a single layer of ectoderm cells projects. the mouth, a longitudinal slit, opens on to the ventral surface of the head. it leads into a straight alimentary canal whose walls consist of a layer of ciliated cells ensheathed in a thin layer of peritoneal cells. there is no armature, and no glands, and the whole tract can only be divided into an oesophagus and an intestine. the latter runs with no twists or coils straight to the anus, which is situated at the junction of the trunk with the tail. a median mesentery running dorso-ventrally supports the alimentary canal and is continued behind it into the tail, thus dividing the body cavity into two lateral halves. there are no specialized circulatory, respiratory or excretory organs. the nervous system consists of a cerebral ganglion in the head, a conspicuous ventral ganglion in the trunk, and of lateral commissures uniting these ganglia on each side. the whole of this system has retained its primitive connexion with the ectoderm. the cerebral ganglion also gives off a nerve on each side to a pair of small-ganglia, united by a median commissure, which have sunk into and control the muscles of the head. as in other animals there is a minute but extensive nervous plexus, which permeates the whole body and takes its origin from the chief ganglia. in addition to the eyes and the olfactory circle on the head scattered tactile papillae are found on the ectoderm. chaetognatha are hermaphrodite. the ovaries are attached to the side walls of the trunk region; between them and the body wall lie the two oviducts whose inner and anterior end is described as closed, their outer ends opening one on each side of the anus, where the trunk joins the tail. according to miss n.m. stevens the so-called oviduct acts only as a "sperm-duct" or receptaculum seminis. the spermatozoa enter it and pass through its walls and traverse a minute duct formed of two accessory cells, and finally enter the ripe ovum. temporary oviducts are formed between the "sperm-duct" and the germinal epithelium at each oviposition. a number of ova ripen simultaneously. the two testes lie in the tail and are formed by lateral proliferations of the living peritoneal cells. these break off and, lying in the coelomic fluid, break up into spermatozoa. they pass out through short vasa deferentia with internal ciliated funnels, sometimes an enlargement on their course--the seminal vesicles--and a minute external pore situated on the side of the tail. with hardly an exception the transparent eggs are laid into the sea and float on its surface. the development is direct and there is no larval stage. the segmentation is complete; one side of the hollow blastosphere invaginates and forms a gastrula. the blastopore closes, a new mouth and a new anus subsequently arising. the archenteron gives off two lateral pounchs and thus becomes trilobed. the middle lobe forms the alimentary canal; it closes behind and opens to the exterior anteriorly and so makes the mouth. the two lateral lobes contain the coelom; each separates off in front a segment which forms the head and presumably then divides again to form anteriorly the trunk, and posteriorly the tail regions. an interesting feature of the development of chaetognaths is that, as in some insects, the cells destined to form the reproductive organs are differentiated at a very early period, being apparent even in the gastrula stage. the great bulk of the group is pelagic, as the transparent nature of all their tissues indicates. they move by flexing their bodies. _spadella cephaloptera_ is, however, littoral and oviposits on seaweed, and the "valdivia" brought home a deep-sea species. the three genera are differentiated as follows:-- _sagitta_ m. slabber, with two pairs of lateral fins. this genus was named as long ago as . _krohnia_ p. langerhans, with one lateral fin on each side, extending on to the tail. _spadella_ p. langerhans, with a pair of lateral fins on the tail and a thickened ectodermic ridge running back on each side from the head to the anterior end of the fin. the group is an isolated one and should probably be regarded as a separate phylum. it has certain histological resemblances with the nematoda and certain primitive annelids, but little stress must be laid on these. the most that can be said is that the chaetognaths begin life with three segments, a feature they share with such widely-differing groups as the brachiopoda, the echinoderma and the enteropneusta, and probably vertebrata generally. see o. hertwig, _die chaetognathen, eine monographie_ (jena, ); b.j. grassi, _chetognathi: flora u. fauna d. golfes von neapel_ ( ); s. strodtman, _arch. naturg._ lviii., ; n.m. stevens, _zool. jahrb. anat._ xviii., , and xxi., . (a. e. s.) chaetopoda (gr. [greek: chaitê], hair, [greek: pous], foot), a zoological class, including the majority of the annelida (q.v.), and indeed, save for the echiuroidea (q.v.), co-extensive with that group as usually accepted. they are divisible into the haplodrili (q.v.) or archiannelida, the polychaeta containing the marine worms, the oligochaeta or terrestrial and fresh-water annelids (see earthworm), the hirudinea or leeches (see leech), and a small group of parasitic worms, the myzostomida (q.v.). the distinctive characters of the class chaetopoda as a whole are partly embodied in the name. they possess (save for certain archiannelida, most hirudinea, and other very rare exceptions) setae or chaetae implanted in epidermal pits. the setae are implanted metamerically in accordance with the metamerism of the body, which consists of a prostomium followed by a number of segments. the number of segments in an individual is frequently more or less definite. the anterior end of body always shows some "cephalization." the internal organs are largely repeated metamerically, in correspondence with the external metamerism. thus the body cavity is divided into a sequence of chambers by transverse septa; and even among the hirudinea, where this condition is usually not to be observed, there is embryological evidence that the existing state of affairs is derived from this. commonly the nephridia are strictly paired a single pair to each segment, while the branches of the blood vascular system are similarly metameric. the alimentary canal is nearly always a straight tube running from the mouth, which is surrounded by the first segment of the body and overhung by the prostomium, to the anus, which is then either surrounded by the last segment of the body or opens dorsally a little way in front of this. the class as a whole.--the chaetopoda are with but few exceptions (myzostomida in part, _sternaspis_) elongated worms, flattened or, more usually, cylindrical, and bilaterally symmetrical. the body consists of a number of exactly similar or closely similar segments, which are never fused and metamorphosed, as in the arthropoda, to form specialized regions of the body. it is, however, always possible to recognize a head, which consists at least of the peristomial segment with a forward projection of the same, the prostomium. a thorax also is sometimes to be distinguished from an abdomen. where locomotive appendages (the parapodia of the polychaeta) exist, they are never jointed, as always in the arthropoda; nor are they modified anteriorly to form jaws, as in that group. [illustration: fig .--a, side view of the head region of _nereis cultrifera_; b, dorsal view of the same. e, eye. m, mouth. d.c, dorcal cirrus. per, peristomium, probably equal to two segments, per.c, peristomial cirri. pl, prostomial palp. pp, parapodium. pr, prostomium. pr.t, prostomial tentacle. t.s, trunk segment. v.c, ventral cirrus.] the prostomium overhangs the mouth, and is often of considerable size and, as a rule, quite distinct from the segment following, being separated by an external groove, and containing, at least temporarily, the brain, which always arises there. its cavity also is at first independent of the coelom though later invaded by the latter. in any case the cavity of the prostomium is single, and not formed, as is the cavity of the segments of the body, by paired coelomic chambers. it has, however, been alleged that this cavity is formed by a pair of mesoblastic somites (n. kleinenberg), in which case there is more reason for favouring the view that would assign an equality between the prostomium and the (in that case) other segments of the body. the peculiar prostomium of _tomopteris_ is described below. the body wall of the chaetopoda consists of a "dermo-muscular" tube which is separated from the gut by the coelom and its peritoneal walls, except in most leeches. a single layer of epidermic cells, some of which are glandular, forms the outer layer. rarely are these ciliated, and then only in limited tracts. they secrete a cuticle which never approaches in thickness the often calcified cuticle of arthropods. below this is a circular, and below that again a longitudinal, layer of muscle fibres. these muscles are not striated, as they are in the arthropoda. _setae_.--these chitinous, rod-like, rarely squat and then hook-like structures are found in the majority of the chaetopoda, being absent only in certain archiannelida, most leeches, and a very few oligochaeta. they exist in the brachiopoda (which are probably not unrelated to the chaetopoda), but otherwise are absolutely distinctive of the chaetopods. the setae are invariably formed each within an epidermic cell, and they are sheathed in involutions of the epidermis. their shape and size varies greatly and is often of use in classification. the setae are organs of locomotion, though their large size and occasionally jagged edges in some of the polychaeta suggest an aggressive function. they are disposed in two groups on either side, corresponding in the polychaeta to the parapodia; the two bundles are commonly reduced among the earthworms to two pairs of setae or even to a single seta. on the other hand, in certain polychaeta the bundles of setae are so extensive that they nearly form a complete circle surrounding the body; and in the oligochaet genus _perichaeta_ (= _pheretima_), and some allies, there is actually a complete circle of setae in each segment broken only by minute gaps, one dorsal, the other ventral. _coelom_.--the chaetopoda are characterized by a spacious coelom, which is divided into a series of chambers in accordance with the general metamerism of the body. this is the typical arrangement, which is exhibited in the majority of the polychaeta and oligochaeta; in these the successive chambers of the coelom are separated by the intersegmental septa, sheets of muscle fibres extending from the body wall to the gut and thus forming partitions across the body. the successive cavities are not, however, completely closed from each other; there is some communication between adjoining segments, and the septa are sometimes deficient here and there. thus in the chaetopoda the perivisceral cavity is coelomic; in this respect the group contrasts with the arthropoda and molluscs, where the perivisceral cavity is, mainly at least, part of the vascular or haemal system, and agrees with the vertebrata. the coelom is lined throughout by cells, which upon the intestine become large and loaded with excretory granules, and are known as chloragogen cells. several forms of cells float freely in the fluid of the coelom. in another sense also the coelom is not a closed cavity, for it communicates in several ways with the external medium. thus, among the oligochaeta there are often a series of dorsal pores, or a single head pore, present also among the polychaeta (in _ammochares_). in these and other chaetopods the coelom is also put into indirect relations with the outside world by the nephridia and by the gonad ducts. in these features, and in the fact that the gonads are local proliferations of the coelomic epithelium, which have undergone no further changes in the simpler forms, the coelom of this group shows in a particularly clear fashion the general characters of the coelom in the higher metazoa. it has been indeed largely upon the conditions characterizing the chaetopoda that the conception of the coelom in the coelomocoela has been based. among the simpler chaetopoda the coelom retains the character of a series of paired chambers, showing the above relations to the exterior and to the gonads. there are, however, further complications in some forms. especially are these to be seen in the more modified oligochaeta and in the much more modified hirudinea. in the polychaeta, which are to be regarded as structurally simpler forms than the two groups just referred to, there is but little subdivision of the coelom of the segments, indeed a tendency in the reverse direction, owing to the suppression of septa. among the oligochaeta the dorsal vessel in _dinodrilus_ and _megascolides_ is enclosed in a separate coelomic chamber which may or may not communicate with the main coelomic cavity. to this pericardial coelom is frequently added a gonocoel enclosing the gonads and the funnels of their ducts. this condition is more fully dealt with below in the description of the oligochaeta. the division and, indeed, partial suppression of the coelom culminates in the leeches, which in this, as in some other respects, are the most modified of annelids. _nervous system._--in all chaetopods this system consists of cerebral ganglia connected by a circumoesophageal commissure with a ventral ganglionated cord. the plan of the central nervous system is therefore that of the arthropoda. among the archiannelida, in _aeolosoma_ and some polychaetes, the whole central nervous system remains imbedded in the epidermis. in others, it lies in the coelom, often surrounded by a special and occasionally rather thick sheath. the cerebral ganglia constitute an archicerebrum for the most part, there being no evidence that, as in the arthropoda, a movement forward of post-oral ganglia has taken place. in the leeches, however, there seems to be the commencement of the formation of a syncerebrum. in the latter, the segmentally arranged ganglia are more sharply marked off from the connectives than in other chaetopods, where nerve cells exist along the whole ventral chain, though more numerous in segmentally disposed swellings. _vascular system._--in addition to the coelom, another system of fluid-holding spaces lies between the body wall and the gut in the chaetopoda. this is the vascular or haemal system (formerly and unnecessarily termed pseudhaemal). with a few exceptions among the polychaeta the vascular system is always present among the chaetopoda, and always consists of a system of vessels with definite walls, which rarely communicate with the coelom. it is in fact typically a closed system. the larger trunks open into each other either directly by cross branches, or a capillary system is formed. there are no lacunar blood spaces with ill-defined or absent walls except for a sinus surrounding the intestine, which is at least frequently present. the principal trunks consist of a dorsal vessel lying above the gut, and a ventral vessel below the gut but above the nervous cord. these two vessels in the oligochaeta are united in the anterior region of the body by a smaller or greater number of branches which surround the oesophagus and are, some of them at least, contractile and in that case wider than the rest. the dorsal vessel also communicates with the ventral vessel indirectly by the intestinal sinus, which gives off branches to both the longitudinal trunks, and by tegementary vessels and capillaries which supply the skin and the nephridia. in the smaller and simpler forms the capillary networks are much reduced, but the dorsal and ventral vessels are usually present. the former, however, is frequently developed only in the anterior region of the body where it emerges from the peri-intestinal blood sinus. on the other hand, additional longitudinal trunks are sometimes developed, the chief one of which is a supra-intestinal vessel lying below the dorsal vessel and closely adherent to the walls of the oesophagus in which region it appears. the capillaries sometimes (in many leeches and oligochaeta) extend into the epidermis itself. usually they do not extend outwards of the muscular layers of the body wall. the main trunks of the vascular system often possess valves at the origin of branches which regulate the direction of the blood flow. among many oligochaeta the dorsal blood-vessel is partly or entirely a double tube, which is a retention of a character shown by f. vezhdovský to exist in the embryo of certain forms. the blood in the chaetopoda consists of a plasma in which float a few corpuscles. the plasma is coloured red by haemoglobin: it is sometimes (in _sabella_ and a few other polychaeta) green, which tint is due to another respiratory pigment. the plasma may be pink (_magelona_) or yellow (_aphrodite_) in which cases the colour is owing to another pigment. in _aeolosoma_ it is usually colourless. the vascular system is in the majority of chaetopods a closed system. it has been asserted (and denied) that the cellular rod which is known as the "heart-body" (_herzkorper_), and is to be found in the dorsal vessel of many oligochaeta and polychaeta, is formed of cells which are continuous with the chloragogen cells, thus implying the existence of apertures of communication with the coelom. the statement has been often made and denied, but it now seems to have been placed on a firm basis (e.s. goodrich), that among the hirudinea the coelom, which is largely broken up into narrow tubes, may be confluent with the tubes of the vascular system. this state of affairs has no antecedent improbability about it, since in the vertebrata the coelom is unquestionably confluent with the haemal system through the lymphatic vessels. finally, there are certain polychaeta, _e g._ the _capitellidae_, in which the vascular system has vanished altogether, leaving a coelom containing haemoglobin-impregnated corpuscles. it has been suggested (e. ray lankester) that this condition has been arrived at through some such intermediate stage as that offered by polychaet _magelona_. in this worm the ventral blood-vessel is so swollen as to occupy nearly the whole of the available coelom. carry the process but a little farther and the coelom disappears and its place is taken by a blood space or haemocoel. it has been held that the condition shown in certain leeches tend to prove that the coelom and haemocoel are primitively one series of spaces which have been gradually differentiated. the facts of development, however, prove their distinctness, though those same facts do not speak clearly as to the true nature of the blood system. one view of the origin of the latter (largely based upon observations upon the development of _polygordius_) sees in the blood system a persistent blastocoel. f. vezhdovský has lately seen reasons for regarding the blood system as originating entirely from the hypoblast by the secretion of fluid, the blood, from particular intestinal cells and the consequent formation of spaces through pressure, which become lined with these cells. _nephridia and coelomoducts_.--the name "nephridium" was originally given by sir e. ray lankester to the members of a series of tubes, proved in some cases to be excretory in nature, which exist typically to the number of a single pair in most of the segments of the chaetopod body, and open each by a ciliated orifice into the coelom on the one hand, and by a pore on to the exterior of the body on the other. in its earlier conception, this view embraced as homologous organs (so far as the present group is concerned) not only the nephridia of oligochaeta and hirudinea, which are obviously closely similar, but the wide tubes with an intercellular lumen and large funnels of certain polychaeta, and (though with less assurance) the gonad ducts in oligochaeta and hirudinea. the function of nitrogenous excretion was not therefore a necessary part of the view--though it may be pointed out that there are grounds for believing that the gonad ducts are to some extent also organs of excretion (see below). later, the investigations of e. meyer and e.s. goodrich, endorsed by lankester, led to the opinion that under the general morphological conception of "nephridium" were included two distinct sets of organs, viz. nephridia and coelomoducts. the former (represented by, e.g. the "segmental organs" of _lumbricus_) have been asserted to be "ultimately, though not always, actually traceable to the ectoderm"; the latter (represented by, e.g. the oviduct of _lumbricus_) are parts of the coelomic wall itself, which have grown out to the exterior. the nephridia, in fact, on this view, are _ectodermic ingrowths_, the coelomoducts _coelomic outgrowths_. the cavity of the former has nothing to do with coelom. the cavity of the latter is coelom. the embryological facts upon which this view has been based, however, have been differently interpreted. according to c.o. whitman the entire nephridial system (in the leech _clepsine_) is formed by the differentiation of a continuous epiblastic band on each side. the exact opposite is maintained by r.s. bergh (for _lumbricus_ and _criodrilus_), whose figures show a derivation of the entire nephridium from mesoblast, and an absence of any connexion between successive nephridia by any continuous band, epiblastic or mesoblastic. a midway position is taken up by wilson, who asserts the mesoblastic formation of the funnel, but also asserts the presence of a continuous band of epiblast from which certainly the terminal vesicle of the nephridium, and doubtfully the glandular part of the tube is derived. vezhdovský's figures of _rhynchelmis_ agree with those of bergh in showing the backward growth of the nephridium from the funnel cell. there are thus substantial reasons for believing that the nephridium grows backwards from a funnel as does the coelomoduct. it is therefore by no means certain that so profound a difference embryologically can be asserted to exist between the excretory nephridia and the ducts leading from the coelom to the exterior, which are usually associated with the extrusion of the genital products among the chaetopoda. there are, however, anatomical and histological differences to be seen at any rate at the extremes between the undoubted nephridia of goodrich, meyer and lankester, and the coelomoducts of the same authors. [illustration: fig. . (from goodrich). a, diagram of the nephridium of _nereis diversicolor_. b, diagram of the nephridium of _alciope_, into which opens the large genital funnel (coelomostome). c, small portion of the nephridium of _glycera siphonostoma_, showing the canal cut through, and the solenocytes on the outer surface. d, optical section of a branch of the nephridium of _nephthys scolopendroides_. c.s, cut surface. cst, coelomostome. f, flagellum. g.f, genital funnel. n, neck of solenocyte. n.c, nephridial canal. n.p, nephridiopore. nst, nephridiostome. nu, nucleus of solenocyte. s, solenocytes. t, tube.] i. _nephridia_.--excretory organs which are undisputed nephridia are practically universal among the oligochaeta, hirudinea and archiannelida, and occur in many polychaeta. their total absence has been asserted definitely only in _paranais littoralis_. usually these organs are present to the number of a single pair per somite, and are commonly present in the majority of the segments of the body, failing often among the oligochaeta in a varying number of the anterior segments. they are considerably reduced in number in certain polychaeta. essentially, a nephridium is a tube, generally very long and much folded upon itself, composed of a string of cells placed end to end in which the continuous lumen is excavated. such cells are termed "drain pipe" cells. frequently the lumen is branched and may form a complicated anastomosing network in these cells. externally, the nephridium opens by a straight part of the tube, which is often very wide, and here the intracellular lumen becomes intercellular. rarely the nephridium does not communicate with the coelom; in such cases the nephridium ends in a single cell, like the "flame cell" of a platyhelminth worm, in which there is a lumen blocked at the coelomic end by a tuft of fine cilia projecting into the lumen. this is so with _aeolosoma_ (vezhdovský). the condition is interesting as a persistence of the conditions obtaining in the provisional nephridia of e.g. _rhynchelmis_, which afterwards become by an enlargement and opening up of the funnel the permanent nephridia of the adult worm. in some polychaets (e.g. _glycera_, see fig. ) there are many of these flame cells to a single nephridium which are specialized in form, and have been termed "solenocytes" (goodrich). they are repeated in _polygordius_, and are exactly to be compared with similarly-placed cells in the nephridia of _amphioxus_. more usually, and indeed in nearly every other case among the oligochaeta and hirudinea, the coelomic aperture of the nephridium consists of several cells, ciliated like the nephridium itself for a greater or less extent, forming a funnel. the funnel varies greatly in size and number of its component cells. there are so many differences of detail that no line can be drawn between the one-celled funnel of _aeolosoma_ and the extraordinarily large and folded funnel of the posterior nephridia in the oligochaete _thamnodrilus_. in the last-mentioned worm the funnels of the anterior nephridia are small and but few celled; it is only the nephridia in and behind the th segment of the body which are particularly large and with a sinuous margin, which recall the funnels of the gonad ducts (i.e. coelomoducts). among the polychaeta the nephridium of _nereis_ (see fig. ) is like that of the oligochaeta and hirudinea in that the coiled glandular tube has an intracellular duct which is ciliated in the same way in parts. the polychaeta, however, present us with another form of nephridium seen, for example, in _arenicola_, where a large funnel leads into a short and wide excretory tube whose lumen is intercellular. in the young stages of this worm which have been investigated by w.b. benham, the tube, though smaller, and with a but little pronounced funnel, has still an intercellular duct. that these organs in polychaeta serve for the removal of the generative products to the exterior is proved not only by the correspondence in number to them of the gonads, but by actual observation of the generative products in transit. this form of nephridia leads to the shorter but essentially similar organs in the polychaete _sternaspis_, and to those of the echiuroidea (q.v.) and of the gephyrea (q.v.). though the paired arrangement of the nephridia is the prevalent one in the chaetopoda, there are many examples, among the oligochaeta, of species and genera in which there are several, even many, nephridia in each segment of the body, which may or may not be connected among themselves, but have in any case separate orifices on to the exterior. . _coelomoducis._--in this category are included (by goodrich and lankester) the gonad ducts of the oligochaeta, certain funnels without any aperture to the exterior that have been detected in _nereis_, &c., funnels with wide and short ducts attached to nephridia in other polychaeta, gonad ducts in the _capitellidae_, the gonad ducts of the leeches. in all these cases we have a duct which has a usually wide, always intercellular, lumen, generally, if not always, ciliated, which opens directly into the coelom on the one hand and on to the exterior of the body on the other. these characters are plain in all the cases cited, excepting only the leeches which will be considered separately. there is not a great deal of difference between most of these structures and true nephridia. it is not clear, for example, to which category it is necessary to refer the excretory organs of _arenicola_, or _polynoe_. both series of organs consist essentially of a ciliated tube leading from the coelom to the exterior. both series of organs grow back centrifugally from the funnel. in both the cavity originally or immediately continuous with the coelom appears first in the funnel and grows backwards. in some cases, e.g. oviducts of oligochaeta, sperm ducts of _phreoryctes_, the coelomoducts occupy, like the nephridia, two segments, the funnel opening into that in front of the segment which carries the external pore. it is by no means certain that a hard and fast line can be drawn between intra- and intercellular lumina. finally, in function there are some points of likeness. the gonad ducts of _lumbricus_, &c., must perform one function of nephridia; they must convey to the exterior some of the coelomic fluid with its disintegrated products of waste. there is no possibility that sperm and ova can escape by these tubes not in company with coelomic fluid. in the case of many oligochaeta where there is no vascular network surrounding the nephridium, this function must be the chief one of those glands, the more elaborate process of excretion taking place in the case of nephridia surrounded by a rich plexus of blood capillaries. a consideration of the mode of development and appearance of the coelomoducts that have thus far been enumerated (with the possible exception of those of the leeches) seems to show that there is a distinct though varying relation between them and the nephridia. it has been shown that in _tubifex_, and some other aquatic oligochaeta, the genital segments are at first provided with nephridia, and that these disappear on the appearance of the generative ducts, which are coelomoducts. in _lumbricus_ the connexion is a little closer; the funnel of the nephridium, in the segments in which the funnels of the gonad ducts are to be developed, persists and is continuous with the gonad duct funnels on their first appearance. in the development of the acanthodrilid earthworm _octochaetus_ (f.e. beddard) the funnels of the pronephridia disappear except in the genital segments, where they seem to be actually converted into the genital funnels. at the least there is no doubt that the genital funnels are developed precisely where the nephridial funnels formerly existed. if the genital funnels are not wholly or partly formed out of the nephridial funnels they have replaced them. in the genital segments of _eudrilus_ the nephridia are present, but the funnels have not been found though they are obvious in other segments. here also the genital funnels have either replaced or been formed out of nephridial funnels. in _haplotaxis heterogyne_ (w.b. benham) the sperm ducts are hardly to be distinguished from nephridia; they are sinuous tubes with an intra-cellular duct. but the funnel is large and thus differs from the funnels of the nephridia in adjoining segments. here again the nephridial funnel seems to have been converted into or certainly replaced by a secondarily developed funnel. this example is similar to cases among the polychaeta where a true nephridium is provided with a large funnel, coelomostome, according to the nomenclature of lankester. the whole organ, having, as is thought but not known, this double origin, is termed a nephromixium. the various facts, however, seem to be susceptible of another interpretation. it may be pointed out that the several examples described recall a phenomenon which is not uncommon and is well known to anatomists. that is the replacement of an organ by, sometimes coupled with its partial conversion into, a similar or slightly different organ performing the same or an analogous function. thus the postcaval vein of the higher vertebrata is partly a new structure altogether, and is partly formed out of the pre-existing posterior cardinals. the more complete replacements, such as the nephridia of the genital segment of _tubifex_ by a subsequently formed genital duct, may be compared with the succession of the nesonephros to the pronephros in vertebrates, and of the metanephros to the mesonephros in the higher vertebrates. it might be well to term these structures, mostly serving as gonad ducts, which have an undoubted resemblance to nephridia, and for the most part an undoubted connexion with nephridia, "nephrodinia," to distinguish them from another category of "ducts" which are communications between the coelom and the exterior, and which have no relation whatever to nephridia or to the organs just discussed. for these latter, the term coelomoducts might well be reserved. to this category belong certain sacs and pouches in many, perhaps most, genera of the oligochaeta family, _eudrilidae_, and possibly the gonad ducts in the hirudinea. as an example of the former it has been shown (beddard) that a large median sac in _lybiodrilus_ is at first freely open to the coelom, that it later becomes shut off from the same, that it then acquires an external orifice, and, finally, that it encloses the ovary or ovaries, between which and the exterior a passage is thus effected. to this category will belong the oviducts in teleostean fishes and probably the gonad ducts in several groups of invertebrates. polychaeta.--this group may be thus defined and the definition contrasted and compared with those of the other divisions of the chaetopoda. setae always present and often very large, much varied in form and very numerous, borne by the dorsal and ventral parapodia (when present). the prostomium and the segments generally often bear processes sensory and branchial. eyes often present and comparatively complicated in structure. clitellum not present as a definite organ, as in oligochaeta. the anus is mostly terminal, and there are no anterior and posterior suckers. nervous system often imbedded in the epidermis. vascular system generally present forming a closed system of tubes. alimentary canal rarely coiled, occasionally with glands which are simple caeca and sometimes serve as air reservoirs; jaws often present and an eversible pharynx. nephridia sometimes of the type of those of the oligochaeta; in other cases short, wide tubes with a large funnel serving also entirely or in part as gonad ducts. frequently reduced in number of pairs; rarely (_capitellidae_) more than one pair per segment. gonads not so restricted in position as in oligochaets, and often more abundant; the individuals usually unisexual. no specialized system of spermathecae, sperm reservoirs, and copulatory apparatus, as in oligochaeta; development generally through a larval form; reproduction by budding also occurs. marine (rarely fresh-water) in habit. the polychaeta contrast with the oligochaeta by the great variety of outward form and by the frequency of specialization of different regions of the body. the head is always recognizable and much more conspicuous than in other chaetopoda. as in the oligochaeta the peristomial segment is often without setae, but this character is not by any means so constant as in the oligochaeta. the prostomium bears often processes, both dorsal and ventral, which in the sabellids are split into the circle of branchial plumes, which surround or nearly surround the mouth in those tube-dwelling annelids. _tomopteris_ is remarkable for the fact that the hammer-shaped prostomium has paired ventral processes each with a single seta. it is held, however, that these are a pair of parapodia which have shifted forwards. the presence of parapodia distinguish this from other groups of chaetopoda. typically, the parapodium consists of two processes of the body on each side, each of which bears a bundle of setae; these two divisions of the "limb" are termed respectively notopodium and neuropodium. the notopodium may be rudimentary or absent and the entire parapodium reduced to the merest ridge or even completely unrepresented. naturally, it is among the free living forms that the parapodium is best developed, and least developed among the tubicolous polychaeta. to each division of the parapodium belongs typically a long tentacle, the cirrus, which may be defective upon one or other of the notopodium or neuropodium, and may be developed into an arborescent gill or into a flat scale-like process, the elytron (in _polynoe_, &c.). there are other gills developed in addition to those which represent the cirri. _setae_.--the setae of the polychaeta are disposed in two bundles in many genera, but in only one bundle in such forms as have no notopodium (e.g. _syllis_). in some genera the setae are in vertical rows, and in certain _capitellidae_ these rows so nearly meet that an arrangement occurs reminiscent of the continuous circle of setae in the perichaetous oligochaeta. the setae vary much in form and are often longer and stronger than in the oligochaetes. jointed setae and very short hooks or "uncini" (see fig. ) are among the most remarkable forms. simple bifid setae, such as those of oligochaetes, are also present in certain forms. [illustration: fig. .--a, bristle of _pionosyllis malmgreni_; b, hook of _terebella_.] among the burrowing and tubicolous forms it is not uncommon for the body to be distinguishable into two or more regions; a "thorax," for example, is sharply marked off from an "abdomen" in the sabellids. in these forms the bundles of setae are either capilliform or uncinate, and the dorsal setae of the thorax are like the ventral setae of the abdomen. it is a remarkable and newly-ascertained fact that in regeneration (in _potamilla_) the thorax is not replaced by the growth of uninjured thoracic segments; but that the anterior segments of the abdomen take on the same characters, the setae dropping out and being replaced in accordance with the plan of the setae in the thorax of uninjured worms. among the oligochaeta the sexually mature worm is distinguished from the immature worm by the clitellum and by the development of genital setae. among the polychaeta the sexual worm is often more marked from the asexual form, so much so that these latter have been placed in different species or even genera. the alteration in form does not only affect structures used in generation; but the form of the parapodia, &c., alter. there are even dimorphic forms among the syllids where the sexes are, as in many polychaets, separate. _nephridia_.--the nephridia of the polychaeta have been generally dealt with above in considering the nephridial system of the chaetopoda as a whole. they contrast with those of the oligochaeta and hirudinea by reason of their frequently close association with the gonads, the same organ sometimes serving the two functions of excretion and conveyance of the ova and spermatozoa out of the body. on the hypothesis that such a form as _dinophilus_ (see haplodrili) has preserved the characters of the primitive chaetopod more nearly than any existing polychaet or oligochaet, it is clear that the nephridia in the oligochaeta have preserved the original features of those organs more nearly than most polychaeta. thus _nereis_ among the latter worms, from the resemblance which its excretory system bears to that of the oligochaeta, may be made the starting-point of a series. in this worm the paired nephridia exist in most of the segments of the body, and their form (see fig. ) is much like that of the nephridia in the _enchytraeidae_. the funnel, which is not large, appears to open, as a rule at least, into the segment in front of that which bears the external orifice. quite independent of these are certain large dorsally situate funnel-like folds of the coelomic epithelium, ciliated, but of which no duct has been discovered leading to the exterior. it is possible that we have here gonad ducts distinct from nephridia which at the time of sexual maturity do open on to the exterior. in _polynoe_ the nephridia are short tubes with a slightly folded funnel whose lumen is intercellular, and this intercellular lumen is characteristic of the polychaetes as contrasted with leeches and oligochaetes. among the terebelloidea there is a remarkable differentiation of the nephridia into two series. one set lies in front of the diaphragm, which is the most anterior and complete septum, the rest having disappeared or being much less developed. the anterior nephridia, of which there are one to three pairs, contrast with the posterior series by their small funnels and large size, the posterior nephridia having a large funnel followed by a short tube. in _chaetozone setosa_ the anterior nephridia occupy five segments. there is usually a gap between the two series, several segments being without nephridia. it seems that the posterior nephridia are mainly gonad ducts, and the gonads are developed in close association with the funnels. the same arrangement is found in some other polychaetes; for instance, in _sabellaria_ there is a single pair of large anterior nephridia, which open by a common pore, followed after an interval by large-funnelled and short nephridia. this differentiation is not, however, peculiar to the polychaetes; for in several oligochaetes the anterior nephridia are of large size, and opening as they do into the buccal cavity clearly play a different function to those which follow. in _thamnodrilus_, as has been pointed out, there are two series of nephridia which resemble those of the terebelloidea in the different sizes of their funnels. in _lanice conchilega_ the posterior series of nephridia are connected by a thick longitudinal duct, which seems to be seen in its most reduced form in _owenia_, where a duct on each side runs in the epidermis, being in parts a groove, and receives one short tubular nephridium only and occupies only one segment. this connexion of successive nephridia (in _lanice_) has its counterpart in _allolobophora, lybiodrilus_, and apparently in the lumbriculids _teleuscolex_ and _styloscolex_, among the oligochaeta. among the _capitellidae_, which in several respects resemble the oligochaeta, wide and short gonad ducts coexist in the same segments with nephridia, the latter being narrower and longer. it is noteworthy that in this family only among the polychaeta, the nephridia are not restricted to a single pair in each segment; so that the older view that the gonad ducts are metamorphosed nephridia is not at variance with the anatomical facts which have been just stated. _alimentary canal._--the alimentary canal of polychaetes is usually a straight tube running from the anterior mouth to the posterior anus. but in some forms, e.g. _sternaspis_, the gut is coiled. in others, again, e.g. _cobangia_, the anus is anterior and ventral. a gizzard is present in a few forms. the buccal cavity is sometimes armed with jaws. the oesophagus is provided often with caeca which in syllids and _hesionidae_ have been found to contain air, and possibly therefore perform the function of the fish's air-bladder. in other polychaetes one or more pairs of similar outgrowths are glandular. the intestine is provided with numerous branched caeca in _aphrodite_. [illustration: fig. .--_dasychone infracta_, kr. (after malmgren.)] _reproduction._--as is the case with the oligochaeta, the polychaeta furnish examples of species which multiply asexually by budding. there is a further resemblance between the two orders of chaetopoda in that this budding is not a general phenomenon, but confined to a few forms only. budding, in fact, among the polychaetes is limited to the family _syllidae_. in the oligochaetes it is only the families _aeolosomatidae_ and _naididae_ that show the same phenomenon. it has been mentioned that in the nereids a sexual form occurs which differs structurally from the asexual worms, and was originally placed in a separate genus, _heteronereis_; hence the name "heteronereid" for the sexual worm. in _syllis_ there is also a "heterosyllid" form in which the gonads are limited to a posterior region of the body which is further marked off from the anterior non-sexual segments by the oak-like setae. in some syllids this posterior region separates off from the rest, producing a new head; thus a process of fission occurs which has been termed schizogamy. a similar life history distinguishes certain sabellid worms, e.g. _filigrana_. among the syllids this simple state of affairs is further complicated. in _autolytus_ there is, to begin with, a conversion of the posterior half of the body to form a sexual zooid. but before this separates off a number of other zooids are formed from a zone of budding which appears between the two first-formed individuals. ultimately, a chain of sexual zooids is thus formed. a given stock only produces zooids of one sex. in _myrianida_ there is a further development of this process. the conversion of the posterior end of the simple individual into a sexual region is dispensed with; but from a preanal budding segment a series of sexual buds are produced. the well-known syllid, discovered during the voyage of the "challenger," shows a modification of this form of budding. here, however, the buds are lateral, though produced from a budding zone, and they themselves produce other buds, so that a ramifying colony is created. quite recently, another mode of budding has been described in _trypanosyllis gemmipara_, where a crowd of some fifty buds arising symmetrically are produced at the tail end of the worm. in some syllids, such as _pionosyllis gestans_, the ova are attached to the body of the parent in a regular line, and develop in situ; this process, which has been attributed to budding, is an "external gestation," and occurs in a number of species. [illustration: fig. .--a, _autolytus_ (after mensch) with numerous buds. b, portion of a colony of _syllis ramosa_ (from m'intosh). _b.z_, budding zone; p, anterior region of the parent worm; - , buds.] [illustration: fig. .--a, side view of the larva of _lopadorhynchus_ (from kleinenberg), showing the developing trunk region. b, side view of the trochophore larva of _eupomatus uncinatus_ (from hatschek). a, anus. e, eye. m, mouth. ap, apical organ. h, "head kidney." i, intestine. me, mesoblast. ms, larval muscle. o, otocyst. pp, parapodium. pr, praeoral ciliated ring, or prototroch.] as is very frequently the case with marine forms, as compared with their fresh-water and terrestrial allies, the polychaeta differ from the oligochaeta and hirudinea in possessing a free living larval form which is hatched at an early stage in development. this larva is termed the trochosphere larva, and typically (as it is held) is an egg-shaped larva with two bands of cilia, one preoral and one postoral, with an apical nervous plate surmounted by a tuft of longer cilia, and with a simple bent alimentary canal, with lateral mouth and posterior anus, between which and the ectoderm is a spacious cavity (blastocoel) traversed by muscular strands and often containing a larval kidney. the segmentation is of the mesoblast to begin with, and appears later behind the mouth, the part anterior to this becoming the prostomium of the adult. the chief modifications of this form are seen in the _mitraria_ larva of _ammochares_ with only the preoral band, which is much folded and which has provisional and long setae; the atrochous larva, where the covering of cilia is uniform and not split into bands; and the polytrochous larva where there are several bands surrounding the body. there are also other modifications. [illustration: fig. .--_nereis pelagica_, l. (after oersted.)] [illustration: fig. .--_sabella vesiculosa_, mont. (after montagu.)] [illustration: fig. . _arenicola marina_, l.] _classification_.--the older arrangement of the polychaeta into errantia or free living and tubicola or tube-dwelling forms will hardly fit the much increased knowledge of the group. w.b. benham's division into phanerocephala in which the prostomium is plain, and crytocephala in which the prostomium is hidden by the peristomium adopted by sedgwick, can only be justified by the character used; for the terebellids, though phanerocephalous, have many of the features of the sabellids. it is perhaps safer to subdivide the order into suborders (in the number of these following benham, except in combining the sabelliformia and hermelliformia). of these , the two first to be considered are very plainly separable and represent the extremes of polychaete organization, ( ) _nereidiformia_.--"errant" polychaetes with well-marked prostomium possessing tentacles and palps with evident and locomotor parapodia, supported (with few exceptions) by strong spines, the aciculi; muscular pharynx usually armed with jaws; septa and nephridia regularly metameric and similar throughout body; free living and predaceous. ( ) _cryptocephala_.--tube-dwelling with body divided into thorax and abdomen marked by the setae, which are reversed in position in the neuropodium and notopodium respectively in the two regions. parapodia hardly projecting; palps of prosomium forming branched gills; no pharynx or eversible buccal region; no septa in thorax, septa in abdomen regularly disposed. nephridia in two series; large, anterior nephridia followed by small, short tubes in abdomen. the remaining groups are harder to define, with the exception of the ( ) _capitelliformia_, which are mud-living worms of an "oligochaetous" appearance, and with some affinities to that order. the peristomium has no setae, and the setae generally are hair-like or uncinate, often forming almost complete rings. the genital ducts are limited to one segment (the th in _capitella capitata_), and there are genital setae on this and the next segment. in other forms genital ducts and nephridia coexist in the same segment. the nephridia are sometimes numerous in each segment. there is no blood system, and the coelomic corpuscles contain haemoglobin. ( ) _terebelliformia_. these worms are in some respects like the sabellids (cryptocephala). the parapodia, as in the capitellidae, are hardly developed. the buccal region is unarmed and not eversible. the prostomium has many long filaments which recall the gills of the sabellids, &c. the nephridia are specialized into two series, as in the last-mentioned worms. ( ) _spioniformia_ (including _chaetopterus_, _spio_, &c.) and ( ) _scoleciformia_ (_arenicola_, _chloraema_, _sternaspis_) are the remaining groups. in both, the nephridia are all alike; there are no jaws; the prostomium rarely has processes. the body is often divisible into regions. literature.--w.b. benham, "polychaeta" in _cambridge natural history_; e. claparède, _annélides chétopodes du golfe de naples_ ( and ); e. ehlers, _die börstenwürmer_ ( ); h. eisig, _die capitelliden_ (naples monographs), and development of do. in _mitth. d. zool. stat. neapel_ ( ); w.c. m'intosh, _"challenger" reports_ ( ); e.r. lankester, introductory chapter in _a treatise on zoology_; e.s. goodrich, _quart. journ. mic. sci._ ( - ); e. meyer, _mitth. d. zool. stat. neapel_ ( , ), as well as numerous other memoirs by the above and by j.t. cunningham, de st joseph, a. malaquin, a. agassiz, a.t. watson, malmgren, bobretsky and a.f. marion, e.a. andrews, l.c. cosmovici, r. horst, w. michaelsen, g. gilson, f. buchanan, h. levinsen, joyeux-laffuie, f.w. gamble, &c. oligochaeta.--as contrasted with the other subdivisions of the chaetopoda, the oligochaeta may be thus defined. setae very rarely absent (genus _achaeta_) and as a rule not so large or so numerous in each segment as in the polychaeta, and different in shape. eyes rarely present and then rudimentary. prostomium generally small, sometimes prolonged, but never bearing tentacles or processes. appendages of body reduced to branchiae, present only in four species, and to the ventral copulatory appendages of _alma_ and _criodrilus_. clitellum always present, extending over two (many limicolous forms) to forty-five segments (_alma_). segments of body numerous and not distinctive of species, being irregular and not fixed in numbers. in terrestrial forms dorsal pores are usually present; in aquatic forms a head pore only. anus nearly always terminal, rarely dorsal, at a little distance from end of body. suckers absent. nervous system rarely (_aeolosoma_) in continuity with epidermis. vascular system always present, forming a closed system, more complicated in the larger forms than in the aquatic genera. several specially large contractile trunks in the anterior segments uniting the dorsal and ventral vessels. nephridia generally paired, often very numerous in each segment, in the form of long, much-coiled tubes with intracellular lumen. gonads limited in number of pairs, testes and ovaries always present in the same individual. special sacs developed from the intersegmental septa lodge the developing ova and sperm. special gonad ducts always present. male ducts often open on to exterior through a terminal chamber which is variously specialized, and sometimes with a penis. [illustration: fig. .--diagrams of various earthworms, to illustrate external characters. a, b, c, anterior segments from the ventral surface; d, hinder end of body of _urochaeta_. a, _lumbricus_: , , segments containing spermathecae, the orifices of which are indicated; , segment bearing oviducal pores; , segment bearing male pores; , , first and last segments of clitellum. b, _acanthodrilus_: cp, orifices of spermathecae; [female], oviducal pores; [male], male pores; on th and th segments are the apertures of the atria. c, _perichaeta_: the spermathecal pores are between segments and , and , and , the oviducal pores upon the th and the male pores upon the th segment. in all the figures the nephridial pores are indicated by dots and the setae by strokes.] generative pores usually paired, sometimes single and median. spermathecae nearly always present. alimentary canal straight, often with appended glands of complicated or simpler structure; no jaws. eggs deposited in a cocoon after copulation. development direct. reproduction by budding also occurs. fresh-water (rarely marine) and terrestrial. the oligochaeta show a greater variety of size than any other group of the chaetopoda. they range from a millimetre or so (smaller species of _aeolosoma_) to ft. or even rather more (_microchaeta rappi_, &c.) in length. _setae._--the setae, which are always absent from the peristomial segment, are also sometimes absent from a greater number of the anterior segments of the body, and have completely disappeared in _achaeta cameranoi._ when present they are either arranged in four bundles of from one to ten or even more setae, or are disposed in continuous lines completely encircling each segment of the body. this latter arrangement characterizes many genera of the family _megascolicidae_ and one genus (_periscolex_) of the _glossoscolicidae._ it has been shown (bourne) that the "perichaetous" condition is probably secondary, inasmuch as in worms which are, when adult, "perichaetous" the setae develop in pairs so that the embryo passes through a stage in which it has four bundles of setae, two to each bundle, the prevalent condition in the group. rarely there is an irregular disposition of the setae which are not paired, though the total number is eight to a segment (fig. ), e.g. _pontoscolex._ the varying forms of the setae are illustrated in fig. . [illustration: fig. .--setae of _oligochaeta_. a, penial seta of _perichaeta ceylonica._ b, extremity of penial seta of _acanthodrilus_ (after horst). c, seta of _urochaeta_ (perier). d, seta of _lumbricus._ e, seta of _criodrilus._ f, g, setae of _bohemilla comata._ h, i, j, setae of _psammoryctes barbatus_ (f to j after vezhdovský).] _structure._--the body wall consists of an epidermis which secretes a delicate cuticle and is only ciliated in _aeolosoma_, and in that genus only on the under surface of the prostomium. the epidermis contains numerous groups of sense cells; beneath the epidermis there is rarely (_kynotus_) an extensive connective tissue dermis. usually the epidermis is immediately followed by the circular layer of muscles, and this by the longitudinal coat. beneath this again is a distinct peritoneum lining the coelom, which appears to be wanting as a special layer in some polychaetes (benham, gilson). the muscular layers are thinner in the aquatic forms, which possess only a single row of longitudinal fibres, or (_enchytracidae_) two layers. in the earthworms, on the other hand, this coat is thick and composed of many layers. the clitellum consists of a thickening of the epidermis, and is of two forms among the oligochaeta. in the aquatic genera the epidermis comes to consist entirely of glandular cells, which are, however, arranged in a single layer. in the earthworms, on the other hand, the epidermis becomes specialized into several layers of cells, all of which are glandular. it is therefore obviously much thicker than the clitellum in the limicolous forms. the position of the clitellum, which is universal in occurrence, varies much as does the number of component segments. as a rule--to which, however, there are exceptions--the clitellum consists of two or three segments only in the small aquatic oligochaeta, while in the terrestrial forms it is as a general rule, to which again there are exceptions, a more extensive, sometimes much more extensive, region. in the oligochaeta there is a closer correspondence between external metamerism and the divisions of the coelom than is apparent in some chaetopods. the external segments are usually definable by the setae; and if the setae are absent, as in the anterior segments of several _geoscolicidae_, the nephridiopores indicate the segments; to each segment corresponds internally a chamber of the coelom which is separated from adjacent segments by transverse septa, which are only unrecognizable in the genus _aeolosoma_ and in the head region of other oligochaeta. in the latter case, the numerous bands of muscle attaching the pharynx to the parietes have obliterated the regular partition by means of septa. _nephridia_.--the nephridia in this group are invariably coiled tubes with an intracellular lumen and nearly invariably open into the coelom by a funnel. there are no renal organs with a wide intercellular lumen, such as occur in the polychaeta, nor is there ever any permanent association between nephridia and ducts connected with the evacuation of the generative products, such as occur in _alciope_, _saccocirrus_, &c. in these points the oligochaeta agree with the hirudinea. they also agree in the general structure of the nephridia. it has been ascertained that the nephridia of oligochaeta are preceded in the embryo by a pair of delicate and sinuous tubes, also found in the hirudinea and polychaeta, which are larval excretory organs. it is not quite certain whether these are to be regarded as the remnant of an earlier excretory system, replaced among the oligochaeta by the subsequently developed paired structures, or whether these "head kidneys" are the first pair of nephridia precociously developed. the former view has been extensively held, and it is supported by the fact that in _octochaetus_ the first segment of the body has a pair of nephridia which is exactly like those which follow, and, like them, persists. on the other hand, in most oligochaeta the first segment has in the adult no nephridium, and in the case of _octochaetus_ the existence of a "head kidney" antedating the subsequently developed nephridia of the first and other segments has neither been seen nor proved to be absent. in any case the nephridia which occupy the segments of the body generally are first of all represented by paired structures, the "pronephridia," in which the funnel is composed of but one cell, which is flagellate. this stage has at any rate been observed in _rhynchelmis_ and _lumbricus_ (in its widest sense) by vezhdovský. it is further noticeable that in _rhynchelmis_ the covering of vesicular cells which clothes the drain-pipe cells of the adult nephridium is cut off from the nephridial cells themselves and is not a peritoneal layer surrounding the nephridium. thus the nephridia, in this case at least, are a part of the coelom and are not shut off from it by a layer of peritoneum, as are other organs which lie in it, e.g. the gut. a growth both of the funnel, which becomes multicellular, and of the rest of the nephridium produces the adult nephridia of the genera mentioned. the paired disposition of these organs is the prevalent one among the oligochaeta, and occurs in all of twelve out of the thirteen families into which the group is divided. among the _megascolicidae_, however, which in number of genera and species nearly equals the remaining families taken together, another form of the excretory system occurs. in the genera _pheretima, megascolex_, _dichogaster_, &c., each segment contains a large number of nephridia, which, on account of the fact that they are necessarily smaller than the paired nephridia of e.g. _lumbricus_, have been termed micronephridia, as opposed to meganephridia; there is, however, no essential difference in structure, though micronephridia are not uncommonly (e.g. _megascolides_, _octochaetus_) unprovided with funnels. it is disputed whether these micronephridia are or are not connected together in each segment and from segment to segment. in any case they have been shown in three genera to develop by the growth and splitting into a series of original paired pronephridia. a complex network, however, does occur in _lybiodrilus_ and certain other _eudrilidae_, where the paired nephridia possess ducts leading to the exterior which ramify and anastomose on the thickness of the body wall. the network is, however, of the duct of the nephridium, possibly ectodermic in origin, and does not affect the glandular tubes which remain undivided and with one coelomic funnel each. the oligochaeta are the only chaetopods in which undoubted nephridia may possess a relationship with the alimentary canal. thus, in _octochaetus multiporus_ a large nephridium opens anteriorly into the buccal cavity, and numerous nephridia in the same worm evacuate their contents into the rectum. the anteriorly-opening and usually very large nephridia are not uncommon, and have been termed "peptonephridia." _gonads and gonad ducts_.--the oligochaeta agree with the leeches and differ from most polychaeta in that they are hermaphrodite. there is no exception to this generalization. the gonads are, moreover, limited and fixed in numbers, and are practically invariably attached to the intersegmental septa, usually to the front septum of a segment, more rarely to the posterior septum. the prevalent number of testes is one pair in the aquatic genera and two pairs in earthworms. but there are exceptions; thus a species of _lamprodrilus_ has four pairs of testes. the ovaries are more usually one pair, but two are sometimes present. the segments occupied by the gonads are fixed, and are for earthworms invariably x, xi, or one of them for the testes, and xiii for the ovaries the position varies in the aquatic oligochaeta. the oligochaeta contrast with the polychaeta in the general presence of outgrowths of the septa in the genital segments, which are either close to, or actually involve, the gonads, and into which may also open the funnels of the gonad ducts. these sacs contain the developing sperm cells or eggs, and are with very few exceptions universal in the group. the testes are more commonly thus involved than are the ovaries. it is indeed only among the _eudrilidae_ that the enclosure of the ovaries in septal sacs is at all general. recently the same thing has been recorded in a few species of _pheretima_ (= _perichaeta_), but details are as yet wanting. we can thus speak in these worms of _gonocoels_, i.e. coelomic cavities connected only with the generative system. these cavities communicate with the exterior through the gonad ducts, which have nothing to do with them, but whose coelomic funnels are taken up by them in the course of their growth. there are, however, in the _eudrilidae_, as already mentioned, sacs envolving the ovaries which bore their own way to the exterior, and thus may be termed coelomoducts. these sacs are dealt with later under the description of the spermathecae, which function they appear to perform. the gonad ducts are male and female, and open opposite to or, rarely, alongside of the gonads, whose products they convey to the exterior. the oviducts are always short trumpet-shaped tubes and are sometimes reduced (_enchytraeidae_) to merely the external orifices. it is possible, however, that those oviducts belong to a separate morphological category, more comparable to the dorsal pores and to abdominal pores in some fishes. the sperm ducts are usually longer than the oviducts; but in limicolae both series of tubes opening by the funnel into one segment and on to the exterior in the following segment. while the oviducts always open directly on to the exterior, it is the rule for the sperm ducts to open on to the exterior near to or through certain terminal chambers, which have been variously termed atrium and prostate, or spermiducal gland. the distal extremity of this apparatus is sometimes eversible as a penis. associated with these glands are frequently to be found bundles or pairs of long and variously modified setae which are termed penial setae, to distinguish them from other setae sometimes but not always associated with rather similar glands which are found anteriorly to these, and often in the immediate neighbourhood of the spermathecae; the latter are spoken of as genital setae. [illustration: fig. .--female reproductive system of _heliodrilus_.--xi-xiv, eleventh to fourteenth segments, sperm, spermatheca; sp.o, its external orifice; sp.sac, spermathecal sac; ov, sac containing ovary; r.o, egg sac; od, oviduct.] _spermathecae._--these structures appear to be absolutely distinctive of the oligochaeta, unless the sacs which contain sperm and open in common with the nephridia of _saccocirrus_ (see haplodrili) are similar. spermathecae are generally present in the oligochaeta and are absent only in comparatively few genera and species. their position varies, but is constant for the species, and they are rarely found behind the gonads. they are essentially spherical, pear-shaped or oval sacs opening on to the exterior but closed at the coelomic end. in a few _enchytraeidae_ and _lumbriculidae_ the spermathecae open at the distal extremity into the oesophagus, which is a fact difficult of explanation. among the aquatic oligochaeta and many earthworms (the families _lunibricidae_, _geoscolicidae_ and a few other genera) the spermathecae are simple structures, as has been described. in the majority of the _megascolicidae_ each sac is provided with one or more diverticula, tubular or oval in form, of a slightly different histological character in the lining epithelium, and in them is invariably lodged the sperm. the spermathecae are usually paired structures, one pair to each of the segments where they occur. in many _geoscolicidae_, however, and certain _lumbricidae_ and _perichaetidae_, there are several, even a large number, of pairs of very small spermathecae to each of the segments which contain them. in the _eudrilidae_ there are spermathecae of different morphological value. in figs. and are shown the spermathecae of the genera _hyperiodrilus_ and _heliodrilus_, which are simple sacs ending blindly as in other earthworms, but of which there is only one median opening in the thirteenth segment or in the eleventh. in _heliodrilus_ the blind extremity of the spermatheca is enclosed in a coelomic sac which is in connexion with the sacs envolving the ovaries and oviducts. in _hyperiodrilus_ the whole spermatheca is thus included in a corresponding sac, which is of great extent. in such other genera of the family as have been examined, the true spermatheca has entirely disappeared, and the sac which contains it in _hyperiodrilus_ alone remains. this sac has been already referred to as a coelomoduct. its orifice on to the exterior is formed by an involution (as it appears) of the epidermis, and that it performs the function of a spermatheca is shown by its containing spermatozoa, or, in _stuhlmannia_, a spermatophore. in _polytoreutus_, also, spermatophores have been found in these spermathecal sacs. we have thus the replacement of a spermatheca, corresponding to those of the remaining families of oligochaeta, and derived, as is believed, from the epidermis, by a structure performing the same function, but derived from the mesoblastic tissues, and with a cavity which is coelom. _alimentary canal._--the alimentary canal is always a straight tube, and the anus, save in the genera _criodrilus_ and _dero_, is completely terminal. a buccal cavity, a pharynx, an oesophagus and an intestine are always distinguishable. commonly among the terrestrial forms there is a gizzard, or two gizzards, or a larger number, in the oesophageal region. there is no armed protrusible pharynx, such as exists in some other chaetopods. this may be associated with mud-eating habits; but it is not wholly certain that this is the case; for in _chaetogaster_ and _agriodrilus_, which are predaceous worms, there is no protrusible pharynx, though in the latter the oesophagus is thickened through its extent with muscular fibres. the oesophagus is often furnished with glandular diverticula, the "glands of morren," which are often of complex structure through the folding of their walls. among the purely aquatic families such structures are very rare, and are represented by two caeca in the genus _limnodriloides_. it is a remarkable fact, not yet understood, that in certain _enchytraeidae_ and _lumbriculidae_ the spermathecae open into the oesophagus as well as on to the exterior. the only comparable fact among other worms is the laurer's canal or genito-intestinal canal in the trematoda. the intestine is usually in the higher forms provided with a typhlosole, in which, in _pontoscolex_, runs a ciliated canal or canals communicating with the intestine. it is possible that this represents the syphon or supplementary intestine of _capitellidae_, which has been shown to develop as a grooving of the intestine ultimately cut off from it. the intestine has a pair of caeca or two or three pairs (but all lie in one segment) in the genus _pheretima_ and in one species of _rhinodrilus_. in _typhoeus_ and _megascolex_ there are complex glands appended to the intestine. [illustration: fig. .--female reproductive system of _hyperiodrilus_.--xiii, xiv, thirteenth and fourteenth segments. sp, spermatheca. sp', spermathecal sac involving the last. ov, ovary. r.o, egg sac. od, oviduct.] in _benhamia caecifera_ and at least one other earthworm there are numerous caeca, one pair to each segment. _classification._--the classifications of adolf eduard, grube and claparède separated into two subdivisions the aquatic and the terrestrial forms. this scheme, opposed by many, has been reinstated by sedgwick. the chief difficulty in this scheme is offered by the moniligastridae, which in some degree combine the characters of both the suborders, into neither of which will they fit accurately. the following arrangement is a compromise:-- group i. _aphaneura._--this group is referred by a. sedgwick to the archiannelida. it is, however, though doubtless near to the base of the oligochaetous series, most nearly allied in the reproductive system to the oligochaeta. it contains but one family, _aeolosomatidae_. there are three pairs of spermathecae situated in segments iii-v, a testis in v and an ovary in vi. there are a clitellum and sperm ducts which though like nephridia have a larger funnel and a less complexly wound duct. this family consists of only one well-known genus, _aeolosoma_, which contains several species. they are minute worms with coloured oil drops (green, olive green or orange) contained in the epidermis. the nervous system is embedded in the epidermis, and the pairs of ganglia are separated as in _serpula_, &c.; each pair has a longish commissure between its two ganglia. the intersegmental septa are absent save for the division of the first segment. the large prostomium is ciliated ventrally. the setae are either entirely capillary or there are in addition some sigmoid setae even with bifid free extremities. this genus also propagates asexually, like _ctenodrilus_, which may possibly belong to the same family. asexual reproduction universal. group ii. _limicolae._--with a few exceptions the limicolae are, as the name denotes, aquatic in habit. they are small to moderate-sized oligochaeta, with a smaller number of segments than in the terricolae. the alimentary canal is simple and a gizzard or oesophageal diverticula rarely developed. the vascular system is simple with as a rule direct communication between dorsal and ventral vessels in each segment. nerve cord lies in coelom; brain in first segment or prostomium in many forms. clitellum generally only two or three segments and more anterior in position than in terricolae. nephridia always paired and without plexus of blood capillaries. spermatheca rarely with diverticula; sperm ducts as a rule occupying two segments only, usually opening by means of an atrium. sperm sacs generally occupying a good many segments and with simple interior undivided by a network of trabeculae. ova large and with much yolk. asexual reproduction only in naids. egg sacs as large or nearly so as sperm sacs. testes and ovaries always free. the following families constitute the group, viz. _naididae_, _enchytraeidae_, _tubificidae_, _lumbriculidae_, _phreoryctidae_, _phreodrilidae_, _alluroididae_, the latter possibly not referable to this group. group iii. _moniligastres._--moderate-sized to very large oligochaeta, terrestrial in habit, with the appearance of terricolae. generative organs anterior in position as in limicolae. sperm ducts and atria as in limicolae; egg sacs large; body wall thick; vascular system and nephridia as in terricolae. only one family, _moniligastridae_. group iv. _terricolae._--earthworms, rarely aquatic in habit. of small to very large size. clitellum commonly extensive and more posterior in position than in other groups. vascular system complicated without regular connexion between dorsal and ventral vessels, except in anterior segments. nephridia as a rule with abundant vascular supply. testes, and occasionally ovaries, enclosed in sacs. sperm sacs generally limited to one or two segments with interior subdivided by trabeculae. sperm ducts traverse several segments on their way to exterior. they open in common with, or near to, or, more rarely, into, glands which are not certainly comparable to the atria of the limicolae. egg sacs minute and functionless(?). eggs minute with little yolk. nephridia sometimes very numerous in each segment. spermathecae often with diverticula. earthworms are divided into the following families, viz. _megascolicidae_, _geoscolicidae_, _eudrilidae_, _lumbricidae_. as an appendix to the oligochaeta, and possibly referable to that group, though their systematic position cannot at present be determined with certainty, are to be placed the _bdellodrilidae_ (_discodrilidae_ auct.), which are small parasites upon crayfish. these worms lay cocoons like the oligochaeta and leeches, and where they depart from the structure of the oligochaeta agree with that of leeches. the body is composed of a small and limited number of segments (not more than fourteen), and there is a sucker at each end of the body. there are no setae and apparently only two pairs of nephridia, of which the anterior pair open commonly by a common pore on the third segment after the head, whose segments have not been accurately enumerated. the intervening segments contain the genitalia, which are on the oligochaeta plan in that the gonads are independent of their ducts and that there are special spermathecae, one pair. the male ducts are either one pair or two pairs, which open by a common and complicated efferent terminal apparatus furnished with a protrusible penis. the ganglia are crowded at the posterior end of the body as in leeches, and there is much tendency to the obliteration of the coelom as in that group. _pterodrilus_ and _cirrodrilus_ bear a few, or circles of, external processes which may be branchiae; _bdellodrilus_ and _astacobdella_ have none. the vascular system is as in the lower oligochaeta. there are two chitinous jaws in the buccal cavity, a dorsal and a ventral, which are of specially complicated structure in _cirrodrilus_. literature.--f.e. beddard, _a monograph of the oligochaeta_ (oxford, ), also _quart. journ. micr. sci._, - , and _proc. zool. soc._, - ; w.b. benham, _quart. journ. micr. sci._, - ; w. michaelsen, "oligochaeta" in _das tierreich_, , and _mitth. mus._ (hamburg, - ); a.g. bourne, _quart. journ. micr. sci._, ; h.j. moore, _journ. morph._, ; f. vezhdovský, _system d. oligochaeten_ (prague, ), and _entwicklungsgeschichtliche untersuchungen_; and numerous papers by the above and by g. eisen, e. perrier, d. rosa, r. horst, l. cognetti, u. pierantoni, w. baldwin spencer, h. ude, &c., and embryological memoirs by r.s. bergh, e.b. wilson, n. kleinenberg, &c. hirudinea.--the leeches are more particularly to be compared with the oligochaeta, and the following definition embraces the main features in which they agree and disagree with that group. setae are only present in the genus _acanthobdella_. eyes are present, but hardly so complex as in certain genera of polychaetes. the appendages of the body are reduced to branchiae, present in certain forms. a clitellum is present. the segments of body are few (not more than thirty-four) and fixed in number. the anus is dorsal. one or two (anterior and posterior) suckers always present. nervous system always in coelom. coelom generally reduced to a system of tubes, sometimes communicating with vascular system; in _acanthobdella_ and _ozobranchus_ a series of metamerically arranged chambers as in oligochaeta. nephridia always paired, rarely (_pontobdella_) forming a network communicating from segment to segment; lumen of nephridia always intracellular, funnels pervious or impervious. alimentary canal sometimes with protrusible proboscis; never with gizzard or oesophageal glands; intestine with caeca as a rule. jaws often present. testes several pairs, rarely one pair, continuous with sperm ducts; ovaries, one pair, continuous with oviducts; generative pores single and median. no separate spermathecae or septal chambers for the development of the ova and sperm. eggs deposited in a cocoon. development direct. no asexual generation. fresh-water, marine and terrestrial. parasitic or carnivorous. in external characters the hirudinea are unmistakable and not to be confused with other annelids, except perhaps with the _bdellodrilidae_, which resemble them in certain particulars. the absence of setae--save in _acanthobdella_, where five of the anterior segments possess each four pairs of setae with reserve setae placed close behind them (fig. ), and the presence of an anterior and posterior sucker, produce a looping mode of progression similar to that of a geometrid larva. the absence of setae and the great secondary annulation render the mapping of the segments a subject of some difficulty. the most reliable test appears to be the nerve ganglia, which are more distinct from the intervening connectives than in other annelids. [illustration: fig. .--_acanthobdella_, from the ventral surface, showing the five sets of setae (s to s ) and the replacing setae (sr) behind them. the three pairs of pigmented spots show the position of the eyes on the dorsal surface. (after kovalevsky.)] in the middle of the body, where the limits of the somites can be checked by a comparison with the arrangement of the nephridia and the gonads, and where the ganglia are quite distinct and separated by long connectives, each ganglion is seen to consist of six masses of cells enclosed by capsules and to give off three nerves on each side. this corresponds to the usual presence (in the _rhynchobdellidae_) of three annuli to each segment. anteriorly and posteriorly separate ganglia have fused. the brain consists not only of a group of six capsules corresponding to the archicerebrum of the oligochaeta, but of a further mass of cells surrounding and existing below the alimentary canal, which can be analysed into five or six more separate ganglia. the whole mass lies in the seventh or eighth segment. at the posterior end of the body there are likewise seven separate ganglia partially fused to form a single ganglionic mass, which innervates the segments lying behind the anus and corresponding to the posterior sucker. so that a leech in which only twenty-seven segments are apparent by the enumeration of the annuli, separate ganglia, nephridia, lines of sensillae upon the body, really possesses an additional seven lying behind that which is apparently the last of the series and crowded together into a minute space. the annuli into which segments are externally divided are so deeply incised as to render it impossible to distinguish, as can be readily done in the oligochaeta as a rule, the limits of an annulus from that of a true segment. as remarked, the prevalent number of annuli to a segment is three in the _rhynchobdellidae_. but in that group (_cystobranchus_) there may be as many as eight annuli. in the _gnathobdellidae_ the prevailing number of annuli to a segment is five; but here again the number is often increased, and _trocheta_ has no less than eleven. the reason for this excessive annulation has been seen in the limited number of segments (thirty-four) of which the body is composed, which are laid down early and do not increase. in the oligochaeta, on the other hand, there is growth of new segments. it is important to notice that the metameric plan of growth of chaetopods is still preserved. the nephridia are like those of the oligochaeta in general structure; that is to say, they consist of drain-pipe cells which are placed end to end and are perforated by their duct. the internal funnel varies in the same way as in the oligochaeta in the number of cells which form it. in _clepsine_ (_glossiphonia_) there are only three cells, and in _nephelis_ five to eight cells. in _hirudo_ the funnel is not pervious and is composed of a large number of cells. externally, the nephridium opens by a vesicle, as in many oligochaetes whose lumen is intercellular. in _pontobdella_ and _branchellion_ the nephridia form a network extending from segment to segment, but there is only one pair of funnels in each segment. slight differences in form have been noted between nephridia of different segments; but the hirudinea do not show the marked differentiation that is to be seen in some other chaetopods; nor do the nephridia ever acquire any relations to the alimentary canal. [illustration: fig. .--section of _acanthobdella_ (after kovalevsky). c, coelom. c.ch, coelomic epithelium (yellow-cells). cg, glandular cells. cl, muscle cells of lateral line. cp, pigment cells. ep, ectoderm. g, nerve cord. m, intestine. mc, circular muscle. ml, longitudinal muscle. vd, dorsal vessel. vv, ventral vessel.] [illustration: fig. .--section of _acanthobdella_ (after kovalevsky). identical letters as in fig. ; in addition, cn, nerve cord; in, intestine; nf, parts of nephridium; on, external opening of nephridium; ov, ova; t, testis.] _coelom._--the coelom of the hirudinea differs in most genera from that of the oligochaeta and polychaeta. the difference is that it is broken up into a complex sinus system. the least modified type is shown by _acanthobdella_, a leech, parasitic upon fishes, in which transverse sections (see figs. and ) show the gut, the nervous system, &c., lying in a spacious chamber which is the coelom. this coelom is lined by peritoneal cells and is divided into a series of metameres by septa which correspond to the segmentation of the body, the arrangement being thus precisely like that of typical chaetopoda. moreover, upon the intestine the coelomic cells are modified into chloragogen cells. in _acanthobdella_ the testes are, however, not contained in the general coelom, and the nephridia lie in the septa. it is remarkable, in view of the spaciousness of the coelom, that the funnels of the latter have not been seen. _ozobranchus_ possesses a coelom which is less typically chaetopodous than that of _acanthobdella_, but more so than in other leeches. there is a spacious cavity surrounding the gut and containing also blood-vessels, and to some extent the generative organs, and the nervous cord. furthermore, in the mid region of the body this coelom is broken up by metamerically arranged septa, as in _acanthobdella_. these septa are, however, rather incomplete and are not fastened to the gut; and, as in _acanthobdella_, the nephridia are embedded in them. in addition to the median lacuna there are two lateral lacunae, one upon each side. these regions of the coelom end at the ends of the body and communicate with each other by means of a branched system of coelomic sinuses, which are in places very fine tubes. neither in this genus nor in the last is there any communication between coelom and vascular system. in _clepsine_ (_glossiphonia_) there is a further breaking up of the coelom. the median lacuna no longer exists, but is represented by a dorsal and ventral sinus. the former lodges the dorsal, the latter the ventral, blood-vessel. the gut has no coelomic space surrounding it. a complex network places these sinuses and the lateral sinuses in communication. here also the blood system has no communication with the sinus system of the coelom. in _hirudo_ and the _gnathobdellidae_ there is only one system of cavities which consist of four principal longitudinal trunks, of which the two lateral are contractile, which communicate with a network ramifying everywhere, even among the cells of the epidermis. the network is partly formed out of pigmented cells which are excavated and join to form tubes, the so-called botryoidal tissue, not found among the _rhynchobdellidae_ at all. it seems clear from the recent investigations of a.g. bourne and e.s. goodrich that the vascular system and the coelom are in communication (as in vertebrates by means of the lymph system). on the other hand, it has been held that in these leeches there is no vascular system at all and that the entire system of spaces is coelom. in favour of regarding the vascular system as totally absent, is the fact that the median coelomic channels contain no dorsal and ventral vessel. in favour of seeing in the lateral trunks and their branches a vascular system, is the contractility of the former, and the fact of the intrusion of the latter into the epidermis, matched among the oligochaeta, where undoubted blood capillaries perforate the epidermis. a further fact must be considered in deciding this question, which is the discovery of ramifying coelomic tubes, approaching close to, but not entering, the epidermis in the polychaete _arenicola_. these tubes are lined by flattened epithelium and often contain blood capillaries; they communicate with the coelom and are to be regarded as prolongation of it into the thickness of the body wall. _gonads and gonad ducts._--the gonads and their ducts in the hirudinea invariably form a closed system of cavities entirely shut off from the coelom in which they lie. there is thus a broad resemblance to the _eudrilidae_, to which group of oligochaeta the hirudinea are further akin by reason of the invariably unpaired condition of the generative apertures, and the existence of a copulatory apparatus (both of which characters, however, are present occasionally in other oligochaeta). the testes are more numerous than the ovaries, of which latter there are never more than one pair. the testes vary in numbers of pairs. four (_ozobranchus_) to six (_glossiphonia_) or ten (_philaemon_) are common numbers. in _acanthobdella_, however, the testes of each side of the body have grown together to form a continuous band, which extends in front of external pore. each testis communicates by means of an efferent duct with a common collecting duct of its side of the body, which opens on to the exterior by means of a protrusible penis, and to which is sometimes appended a seminal vesicle. the efferent ducts are ciliated, and there is a patch of cilia at the point where they communicate with the cavity of each testis. the ovaries are more extensive in some forms (e.g. _ozobranchus_) than in others, where they are small rounded bodies. the two ducts continuous with the gonads open by a common vagina on to the exterior behind the male pores. this "vagina" is sometimes of exaggerated size. thus, in _philaemon pungens_ (lambert) it has the form of a large sac, into which open by a single orifice the conjoined oviducts. from this vagina arises a narrow duct leading to the exterior. in _ozobranchus_ the structures in question are still more complicated. the two long ovarian sacs communicate with each other by a transverse bridge before uniting to form the terminal canal. into each ovarian sac behind the transverse junction opens a slender tube, which is greatly coiled, and, in its turn, opens into a spherical "spermathecal sac." from this an equally slender tube proceeds, which joins its fellow of the opposite side, and the two form a thick, walled tube, which opens on to the exterior within the bursa copulatrix through which the penis protrudes. these two last-mentioned types show features which can be, as it seems, matched in the eudrilidae. the gonads develop (o. bürger) in coelomic spaces close to nephridial funnels, which have, however, no relation to the gonad ducts. the ovaries are solid bodies, of which the outer layer becomes separated from the plug of cells lying within; thus a cavity is formed which is clearly coelom. this cavity and its walls becomes prolonged to form the oviducts. a stage exactly comparable to the stage in the leeches, where the ovary is surrounded by a closed sac, has been observed in _eudrilus_. in this annelid later the sac in question joins its fellow, passing beneath the nerve cord exactly as in the leech, and also grows out to reach the exterior. the sole difference is therefore that in _eudrilus_ the ovarian sac gives rise to a tube which bifurcates, one branch meeting a corresponding branch of the other ovary of the pair, while the second branch reaches the exterior. in the leech the two branches are fused into one. we have here clearly a case of a true coelomoduct performing the function of an oviduct in both leeches and _eudrilidae_. the facts just referred to suggest further comparisons between the hirudinea and _eudrilidae_. the large sacs which have been termed vagina are suggestive of the large coelomic spermathecae in eudrilids, a comparison which needs, however, embryological data, not at present forthcoming, for its justification. it is at least clear that in _ozobranchus_ this comparison is justifiable; but only probable, or perhaps possible, in the case of _philaemon_. in the former, the duct, leading from the ovarian sac, and swelling along its course into the spherical sac, the "spermatheca," is highly suggestive of the oviduct and receptaculum of the _eudrilidae_. the testes during development become hollowed out and are prolonged into the vasa efferentia. these ducts therefore have not their exact counterparts in the oligochaeta, unless we are to assume that they collectively are represented by the seminal vesicles of earthworms and the vasa deferentia. it is to be noted that the hirudinea differ from the oligochaeta in that the male pore is in advance of the gonads (except in _acanthobdella_, which here, as in so many points, approximates to the oligochaeta), whereas in oligochaeta that pore is behind the gonads (again with an exception, _allurus_). _classification_.--the hirudinea may be divided into three families:-- (i.) _rhynchobdellidae_.--a protrusible proboscis exists, but there are no jaws. the blood is colourless. _pontobdella_, _glossiphonia_, &c. (ii.) _gnathobdellidae_.--a proboscis absent, but jaws usually present. blood coloured red with haemoglobin. _hirudo_, _nephelis_, &c. (iii.) _acanthobdellidae_.--proboscis present, but short. paired setae of oligochaetous pattern present in anterior segments. blood red. _acanthobdella_. literature.--a.o. kovalevsky, _bull. imp. sci._ (st petersburg, november ) (_acanthobdella_); a.g. bourne, _quart. journ. micr. sci._, ; a. oka, _zeitschr. wiss. zool._, ; e.s. goodrich, _quart. journ. micr. sci._, ; w.e. castle, _bull. mus. comp. zool._, ; a.m. lambert, _proc. roy. soc._ (victoria, ); c.o. whitman, _journ. morph._, and ; o. bürger, _zeitschr. wiss. zool._, , and other memoirs by the above, and by st v. apáthy, r. blanchard, h. bolsius, a. dendy, r.s. bergh, &c. (f. e. b.) chaetosomatida, a small group of minute, free-living, aquatic organisms which are usually placed as an annex to the nematoda. indeed mechnikov, to whom we owe much of our knowledge of these forms, calls them "creeping nematoda." they are usually found amongst seaweed in temperate seas, but they are probably widely distributed; some are fresh-water. the genus _chaetosoma_, with the two species _ch. claparedii_ and _ch. ophicephalum_ and the genus _tristicochaeta_, have swollen heads. the third genus _rhabdogaster_ has no such distinct head, though the body may be swollen anteriorly. the mouth is terminal and anterior and surrounded by a ring of spicules or a half-ring of hooks. scattered hairs cover the body. just in front of the anus there is in _chaetosoma_ a double, and in _tristicochaeta_ a triple row of about fifteen stout cylindrical projections upon which the animals creep. the females are a little larger than the males; in _ch. claparedii_ the former attain a length of . mm., the latter of . mm. the mouth opens into an oesophagus which passes into an intestine; this opens by a ventral anus situated a little in front of the posterior end. the testis is single, and its duct opens with the anus, and is provided with a couple of spicules. the ovary is double, and the oviducts open by a median ventral pore about the middle of the body; in this region there is a second swelling both in _chaetosoma_ and in _rhabdogaster_. the last-named form is in the female . mm. in length. in it the hairs are confined to the dorsal middle line and the creeping setae are hooked, of a finer structure than in _chaetosoma_, and situated so far forward that the vagina opens amongst them. _ch. ophicephalum_ has been taken in the english channel. [illustration: from _cambridge natural history_, vol. ii. "worms." by permission of macmillan & co., ltd. mature female of _chaetosoma daparedii_, (from mechnikov.) a, oesophagus; b, intestine; c, anus; d, ovary; e, generative pore; f, ventral bristles.] see e. mechnikov, _zeitschr. wiss. zool._ xvii., , p. ; panceri, _atti acc. napoli_, vii., , p. . (a. e. s.) chafer, a word used in modern speech to distinguish the beetles of the family _scarabaeidae_, and more especially those species which feed on leaves in the adult state. the word is derived from the o. eng. _ceafor_, and it is interesting to note that the cognate ger. _käfer_ is applied to beetles of all kinds. for the characters of the _scarabaeidae_ see coleoptera. this family includes a large number of beetles, some of which feed on dung and others on vegetable tissues. the cockchafers and their near allies belong to the subfamily _melolonthinae_, and the rose-chafers to the _cetoniinae_; in both the beetles eat leaves, and their grubs spend a long life underground devouring roots. in britain the melolonthines that are usually noted as injurious are the two species of cockchafer (_melolontha vulgaris_ and _m. hippocastani_), large heavy beetles with black pubescent pro-thorax, brown elytra and an elongated pointed tail-process; the summer-chafer (_rhizotrogus solstitialis_), a smaller pale brown chafer; and the still smaller garden-chafer or "cocker-bundy" (_phyllopertha horticola_), which has a dark green pro-thorax and brown elytra. of the cetoniines, the beautiful metallic green rose-chafer, _cetonia aurata_, sometimes causes damage, especially in gardens. the larvae of the chafers are heavy, soft-skinned grubs, with hard brown heads provided with powerful mandibles, three pairs of well-developed legs, and a swollen abdomen. as they grow, the larvae become strongly flexed towards the ventral surface, and lie curled up in their earthen cells, feeding on roots. the larval life lasts several years, and in hard frosts the grubs go deep down away from the surface. pupation takes place in the autumn, and though the perfect insect emerges from the cuticle very soon afterwards, it remains in its underground cell for several months, not making its way to the upper air until the ensuing summer. after pairing, the female crawls down into the soil to lay her eggs. the grubs of chafers, when turned up by the plough, are greedily devoured by poultry, pigs and various wild birds. when the beetles become so numerous as to call for destruction, they are usually shaken off the trees where they rest on to sheets or tarred boards. on the continent of europe chafers are far more numerous than in the united kingdom, and the rural governments in france give rewards for their destruction. d. sharp states that in the department of seine-inférieure , , cockchafers and , , larvae were killed in the four years preceding . the anatomy of _melolontha_ is very fully described in a classical memoir by h.e. strauss-dürckheim (paris, ). (g. h. c.) chaff (from the a.s. _ceaf_, allied to the o. high ger. _cheva_, a husk or pod), the husks left after threshing grain, and also hay and straw chopped fine as food for cattle; hence, figuratively, the refuse or worthless part of anything. the colloquial use of the word, to chaff, in the sense of to banter or to make fun of a person, may be derived from this figurative sense, or from "to chafe," meaning to vex or irritate. chaffarinas, or zaitarines, a group of islands belonging to spain off the north coast of morocco, near the algerian frontier, ½ m. to the north of cape del agna. the largest of these isles, del congreso, is rocky and hilly. it has a watch-house on the coast nearest to morocco. isabella ii., the central island, contains several batteries, barracks and a penal convict settlement. the spanish government has undertaken the construction of breakwaters to unite this island with the neighbouring islet of el rey, with a view to enclose a deep and already sheltered anchorage. this roadstead affords a safe refuge for many large vessels. the chaffarinas, which are the _tres insulae_ of the romans and the _zafran_ of the arabs, were occupied by spain in . the spanish occupation anticipated by a few days a french expedition sent from oran to annex the islands to algeria. the population of the islands is under . chaffee, adna romanza ( - ), american general, was born at orwell, ohio, on the th of april . at the outbreak of the civil war he entered the united states cavalry as a private, and he rose to commissioned rank in , becoming brevet captain in . he remained in the army after the war and took part with distinction in many indian campaigns. his promotion was, however, slow, and he was at the age of fifty-six still a lieutenant-colonel of cavalry. but in , at the outbreak of the spanish-american war, he was made brigadier-general and soon afterwards major-general of volunteers. in the cuban campaign he won particular distinction, and the victory of the americans in the action of el caney was in large measure due to his careful personal reconnaissances of the ground to be attacked and to the endurance of his own brigade. after reverting for a time to the rank of brigadier-general, he was made a major-general u.s.v. again in and was appointed to command the united states contingent in china. he took a brilliant and successful part in the advance on peking and the relief of the legations. in he became a major-general in the regular army, and in - commanded the division of the philippines. in - he commanded the department of the east, and from to was chief of the general staff of the army. in he received the rank of lieutenant-general in the united states army, being the first enlisted man of the regular army to attain this, the highest rank in the service. he was retired at his own request on the st of february , after more than forty years' service. chaffinch (_fringilla coelebs_), the common english name of a bird belonging to the family _fringillidae_ (see finch), and distinguished, in the male sex, by the deep greyish blue of its crown feathers, the yellowish green of its rump, the white of the wing coverts, so disposed as to form two conspicuous bars, and the reddish brown passing into vinous red of the throat and breast. the female is drab, but shows the same white markings as the male, and the young males resemble the females until after the first autumn moult, when they gradually assume the plumage of their sex. the chaffinch breeds early in the season, and its song may often be heard in february. its nest, which is a model of neatness and symmetry, it builds on trees and bushes, preferring such as are overgrown with moss and lichens. it is chiefly composed of moss and wool, lined internally with grass, wool, feathers, and whatever soft material the locality affords. the outside consists of moss and lichens, and according to selby, "is always accordant with the particular colour of its situation." when built in the neighbourhood of towns the nest is somewhat slovenly and untidy, being often composed of bits of dirty straw, pieces of paper and blackened moss; in one instance, near glasgow, the author of the _birds of the west of scotland_ found several postage-stamps thus employed. it lays four or five eggs of a pale purplish buff, streaked and spotted with purplish red. in spring the chaffinch is destructive to early flowers, and to young radishes and turnips just as they appear above the surface; in summer, however, it feeds principally on insects and their larvae, while in autumn and winter its food consists of grain and other seeds. on the continent of europe the chaffinch is a favourite song-bird, especially in germany, where great attention is paid to its training. chafing-dish (from the o. fr. _chaufer_, to make warm), a kind of portable grate heated with charcoal, and used for cooking or keeping food warm. in a light form, and heated over a spirit lamp, it is also used for cooking various dainty dishes at table. the employment of the chafing-dish for the latter purpose has been largely restored in modern cookery. chagos, a group of atolls in the indian ocean, belonging to britain, disposed in circular form round the chagos bank, in ° ' to ° ' s., and ° ' to ° ' e. the atolls on the south and east side of the bank, which has a circumference of about m., have disappeared through subsidence; a few--egmont, danger, eagle, and three brothers--still remain on the east side, but most of the population (about ) is centred on diego garcia, which lies on the south-east side, and is nearly m. long by m. wide. the lagoon, which is enclosed by two coral barriers and accessible to the largest vessels on the north side, forms one of the finest natural harbours in the world. the group, which has a total land area of sq. m., is dependent for administrative purposes on mauritius, and is regularly visited by vessels from that colony. the only product is cocoa-nut oil, of which about , gallons are annually exported. the french occupied the islands in from mauritius, and the oil industry (from which the group is sometimes called the oil islands) came into the hands of french creoles. chagres, a village of the republic of panama, on the atlantic coast of the isthmus, at the mouth of the chagres river, and about m. w. of colon. it has a harbour from to ft. deep, which is difficult to enter, however, on account of bars at its mouth. the port was discovered by columbus in , and was opened for traffic with panama, on the pacific coast, by way of the chagres river, in the th century. with the decline of porto bello in the th century chagres became the chief atlantic port of the isthmus, and was at the height of its importance during the great rush of gold-hunters across the isthmus to california in and the years immediately following. with the completion of the panama railway in , however, travel was diverted to colon, and chagres soon became a village of miserable huts, with no evidence of its former importance. on a high rock at the mouth of the river stands the castle of lorenzo, which was destroyed by sir henry morgan when he captured the town in , but was rebuilt soon afterwards by the spaniards. chagres was again captured in by british forces under admiral edward vernon. chain (through the o. fr. _choeine_, _choene_, &c., from lat. _catena_), a series of links of metal or other material so connected together that the whole forms a flexible band or cord. chains are used for a variety of purposes, such as fastening, securing, or connecting together two or more objects, supporting or lifting weights, transmitting mechanical power, &c.; or as an ornament to serve as a collar, as a symbol of office or state, or as part of the insignia of an order of knighthood; or as a device from which to hang a jewelled or other pendant, a watch, &c. (see collar). ornamental chains are made with a great variety of links, but those intended for utilitarian purposes are mostly of two types. in stud chains a stud or brace is inserted across each link to prevent its sides from collapsing inwards under strain, whereas in open link chains the links have no studs. the addition of studs is reckoned to increase the load which the chain can safely bear by %. small chains of the open-link type are to a great extent made by machinery. for larger sizes the smith cuts off a length of iron rod of suitable diameter, forms it while hot to the shape of the link by repeated blows of his hammer, and welds together the two ends of the link, previously slipped inside its fellow, by the aid of the same tool; in some cases the bending is done in a mechanical press and the welding under a power hammer (see also cable). weldless chains are also made; in a.g. strathern's process, for instance, cruciform steel bars are pressed, while hot, into links, each without join and engaging with its neighbours. chains used for transmitting power are known as pitch-chains; the chain of a bicycle (q.v.) is an example. from the use of the chain as employed to bind or fetter a prisoner or slave, comes the figurative application to anything which serves as a constraining or restraining force; and from its series of connected links, to any series of objects, events, arguments, &c., connected by succession, logical sequence or reasoning. specific uses are for a measuring line in land-surveying, consisting of links, i.e. iron rods, . in. in length, making yds. in all, hence a lineal measure of that length; and, as a nautical term, for the contrivance by which the lower shrouds of a mast are extended and secured to the ship's sides, consisting of dead-eyes, chain-plates, and chain-wale or "channel." chair (in. mid. eng. _choere_, through o. fr. _chaëre_ or _chaiere_, from lat. _cathedra_, later _caledra_, gr. [greek: kathedra], seat, cf. "cathedral"; the modern fr. form _chaise_, a chair, has been adopted in english with a particular meaning as a form of carriage; _chaire_ in french is still used of a professorial or ecclesiastical "chair," or _cathedra_), a movable seat, usually with four legs, for a single person, the most varied and familiar article of domestic furniture. the chair is of extreme antiquity, although for many centuries and indeed for thousands of years it was an appanage of state and dignity rather than an article of ordinary use. "the chair" is still extensively used as the emblem of authority in the house of commons and in public meetings. it was not, in fact, until the th century that it became common anywhere. the chest, the bench and the stool were until then the ordinary seats of everyday life, and the number of chairs which have survived from an earlier date is exceedingly limited; most of such examples are of ecclesiastical or seigneurial origin. our knowledge of the chairs of remote antiquity is derived almost entirely from monuments, sculpture and paintings. a few actual examples exist in the british museum, in the egyptian museum at cairo, and elsewhere. in ancient egypt they appear to have been of great richness and splendour. fashioned of ebony and ivory, or of carved and gilded wood, they were covered with costly stuffs and supported upon representations of the legs of beasts of the chase or the figures of captives. an arm-chair in fine preservation found in a tomb in the valley of the kings is astonishingly similar, even in small details, to that "empire" style which followed napoleon's campaign in egypt. the earliest monuments of nineveh represent a chair without a back but with tastefully carved legs ending in lions' claws or bulls' hoofs; others are supported by figures in the nature of caryatides or by animals. the earliest known form of greek chair, going back to five or six centuries before christ, had a back but stood straight up, front and back. on the frieze of the parthenon zeus occupies a square seat with a bar-back and thick turned legs; it is ornamented with winged sphinxes and the feet of beasts. the characteristic roman chairs were of marble, also adorned with sphinxes; the curule chair was originally very similar in form to the modern folding chair, but eventually received a good deal of ornament. the most famous of the very few chairs which have come down from a remote antiquity is the reputed chair of st peter in st peter's at rome. the wooden portions are much decayed, but it would appear to be byzantine work of the th century, and to be really an ancient _sedia gestatoria_. it has ivory carvings representing the labours of hercules. a few pieces of an earlier oaken chair have been let in; the existing one, gregorovius says, is of acacia wood. the legend that this was the curule chair of the senator pudens is necessarily apocryphal. it is not, as is popularly supposed, enclosed in bernini's bronze chair, but is kept under triple lock and exhibited only once in a century. byzantium, like greece and rome, affected the curule form of chair, and in addition to lions' heads and winged figures of victory and dolphin-shaped arms used also the lyre-back which has been made familiar by the pseudo-classical revival of the end of the th century. the chair of maximian in the cathedral of ravenna is believed to date from the middle of the th century. it is of marble, round, with a high back, and is carved in high relief with figures of saints and scenes from the gospels--the annunciation, the adoration of the magi, the flight into egypt and the baptism of christ. the smaller spaces are filled with carvings of animals, birds, flowers and foliated ornament. another very ancient seat is the so-called "chair of dagobert" in the louvre. it is of cast bronze, sharpened with the chisel and partially gilt; it is of the curule or faldstool type and supported upon legs terminating in the heads and feet of animals. the seat, which was probably of leather, has disappeared. its attribution depends entirely upon the statement of suger, abbot of st denis in the th century, who added a back and arms. its age has been much discussed, but viollet-le-duc dated it to early merovingian times, and it may in any case be taken as the oldest faldstool in existence. to the same generic type belongs the famous abbots' chair of glastonbury; such chairs might readily be taken to pieces when their owners travelled. the _faldisterium_ in time acquired arms and a back, while retaining its folding shape. the most famous, as well as the most ancient, english chair is that made at the end of the th century for edward i., in which most subsequent monarchs have been crowned. it is of an architectural type and of oak, and was covered with gilded _gesso_ which long since disappeared. passing from these historic examples we find the chair monopolized by the ruler, lay or ecclesiastical, to a comparatively late date. as the seat of authority it stood at the head of the lord's table, on his dais, by the side of his bed. the seigneurial chair, commoner in france and the netherlands than in england, is a very interesting type, approximating in many respects to the episcopal or abbatial throne or stall. it early acquired a very high back and sometimes had a canopy. arms were invariable, and the lower part was closed in with panelled or carved front and sides--the seat, indeed, was often hinged and sometimes closed with a key. that we are still said to sit "in" an arm-chair and "on" other kinds of chairs is a reminiscence of the time when the lord or seigneur sat "in his chair." these throne-like seats were always architectural in character, and as gothic feeling waned took the distinctive characteristics of renaissance work. it was owing in great measure to the renaissance that the chair ceased to be an appanage of state, and became the customary companion of whomsoever could afford to buy it. once the idea of privilege faded the chair speedily came into general use, and almost at once began to reflect the fashions of the hour. no piece of furniture has ever been so close an index to sumptuary changes. it has varied in size, shape and sturdiness with the fashion not only of women's dress but of men's also. thus the chair which was not, even with its arms purposely suppressed, too ample during the several reigns of some form or other of hoops and farthingale, became monstrous when these protuberances disappeared. again, the costly laced coats of the dandy of the th and early th centuries were so threatened by the ordinary form of seat that a "conversation chair" was devised, which enabled the buck and the ruffler to sit with his face to the back, his valuable tails hanging unimpeded over the front. the early chair almost invariably had arms, and it was not until towards the close of the th century that the smaller form grew common. the majority of the chairs of all countries until the middle of the th century were of oak without upholstery, and when it became customary to cushion them, leather was sometimes employed; subsequently velvet and silk were extensively used, and at a later period cheaper and often more durable materials. leather was not infrequently used even for the costly and elaborate chairs of the faldstool form--occasionally sheathed in thin plates of silver--which venice sent all over europe. to this day, indeed, leather is one of the most frequently employed materials for chair covering. the outstanding characteristic of most chairs until the middle of the th century was massiveness and solidity. being usually made of oak, they were of considerable weight, and it was not until the introduction of the handsome louis xiii. chairs with cane backs and seats that either weight or solidity was reduced. although english furniture derives so extensively from foreign and especially french and italian models, the earlier forms of english chairs owed but little to exotic influences. this was especially the case down to the end of the tudor period, after which france began to set her mark upon the british chair. the squat variety, with heavy and sombre back, carved like a piece of panelling, gave place to a taller, more slender, and more elegant form, in which the framework only was carved, and attempts were made at ornament in new directions. the stretcher especially offered opportunities which were not lost upon the cabinet-makers of the restoration. from a mere uncompromising cross-bar intended to strengthen the construction it blossomed, almost suddenly, into an elaborate scroll-work or an exceedingly graceful semicircular ornament connecting all four legs, with a vase-shaped knob in the centre. the arms and legs of chairs of this period were scrolled, the splats of the back often showing a rich arrangement of spirals and scrolls. this most decorative of all types appears to have been popularized in england by the cavaliers who had been in exile with charles ii. and had become familiar with it in the north-western parts of the european continent. during he reign of william and mary these charming forms degenerated into something much stiffer and more rectangular, with a solid, more or less fiddle-shaped splat and a cabriole leg with pad feet. the more ornamental examples had cane seats and ill-proportioned cane backs. from these forms was gradually developed the chippendale chair, with its elaborately interlaced back, its graceful arms and square or cabriole legs, the latter terminating in the claw and ball or the pad foot. hepplewhite, sheraton and adam all aimed at lightening the chair, which, even in the master hands of chippendale, remained comparatively heavy. the endeavour succeeded, and the modern chair is everywhere comparatively slight. chippendale and hepplewhite between them determined what appears to be the final form of the chair, for since their time practically no new type has lasted, and in its main characteristics the chair of the th century is the direct derivative of that of the later th. the th century was, indeed, the golden age of the chair, especially in france and england, between which there was considerable give and take of ideas. even diderot could not refrain from writing of them in his _encyclopédie_. the typical louis seize chair, oval-backed and ample of seat, with descending arms and round-reeded legs, covered in beauvais or some such gay tapestry woven with boucher or watteau-like scenes, is a very gracious object, in which the period reached its high-water mark. the empire brought in squat and squabby shapes, comfortable enough no doubt, but entirely destitute of inspiration. english empire chairs were often heavier and more sombre than those of french design. thenceforward the chair in all countries ceased to attract the artist. the _art nouveau_ school has occasionally produced something of not unpleasing simplicity; but more often its efforts have been frankly ugly or even grotesque. there have been practically no novelties, with the exception perhaps of the basket-chair and such like, which have been made possible by modern command over material. so much, indeed, is the present indebted to the past in this matter that even the revolving chair, now so familiar in offices, has a pedigree of something like four centuries (see also sedan-chair). (j. p.-b.) chaise (the french for "chair," through a transference from a "sedan-chair" to a wheeled vehicle), a light two- or four-wheeled carriage with a movable hood or "calash"; the "post-chaise" was the fast-travelling carriage of the th and early th centuries. it was closed and four-wheeled for two or four horses and with the driver riding postillion. chakrata, a mountain cantonment in the dehra dun district of the united provinces of india, on the range of hills overlooking the valleys of the jumna and the tons, at an elevation of ft. it was founded in and first occupied in april . chalcedon, more correctly calchedon (mod. _kadikeui_), an ancient maritime town of bithynia, in asia minor, almost directly opposite byzantium, south of scutari. it was a megarian colony founded on a site so obviously inferior to that which was within view on the opposite shore, that it received from the oracle the name of "the city of the blind." in its early history it shared the fortunes of byzantium, was taken by the satrap otanes, vacillated long between the lacedaemonian and the athenian interests, and was at last bequeathed to the romans by attalus iii. of pergamum ( b.c.). it was partly destroyed by mithradates, but recovered during the empire, and in a.d. was the seat of the fourth general council. it fell under the repeated attacks of the barbarian hordes who crossed over after having ravaged byzantium, and furnished an encampment to the persians under chosroes, c. - . the turks used it as a quarry for building materials for constantinople. the site is now occupied by the village of kadikeui ("village of the judge"), which forms the tenth "cercle" of the municipality of constantinople. pop. about , , of whom are moslems. there is a large british colony with a church, and also greek and armenian churches and schools, and a training college for roman catholic armenians. to the s. are the ruins of panteichion (mod. _pendik_), where belisarius is said to have lived in retirement. see j. von hammer, _constantinopolis_ (pesth, ); murray's _handbook for constantinople_ (london, ). chalcedon, council of, the fourth ecumenical council of the catholic church, was held in , its occasion being the eutychian heresy and the notorious "robber synod" (see eutyches and ephesus, council of), which called forth vigorous protests both in the east and in the west, and a loud demand for a new general council, a demand that was ignored by the eutychian theodosius ii., but speedily granted by his successor, marcian, a "flavianist." in response to the imperial summons, five to six hundred bishops, all eastern, except the roman legates and two africans, assembled in chalcedon on the th of october . the bishop of rome claimed for his legates the right to preside, and insisted that any act that failed to receive their approval would be invalid. the first session was tumultuous; party feeling ran high, and scurrilous and vulgar epithets were bandied to and fro. the acts of the robber synod were examined; fraud, violence and coercion were charged against it; its entire proceedings were annulled, and, at the third session, its leader, dioscurus, was deposed and degraded. the emperor requested a declaration of the true faith; but the sentiment of the council was opposed to a new symbol. it contented itself with reaffirming the nicene and constantinopolitan creeds and the ephesine formula of , and accepting, only after examination, the christological statement contained in the _epistola dogmatica_ of leo i. (q.v.) to flavianus. thus the council rejected both nestorianism and eutychianism, and stood upon the doctrine that christ had two natures, each perfect in itself and each distinct from the other, yet perfectly united in one person, who was at once both god and man. with this statement, which was formally subscribed in the presence of the emperor, the development of the christological doctrine was completed, but not in a manner to obviate further controversy (see monophysites and monothelites). the remaining sessions, vii.-xvi., were occupied with matters of discipline, complaints, claims, controversies and the like. canons were adopted, thirty according to the generally received tradition, although the most ancient texts contain but twenty-eight, and, as hefele points out, the so-called twenty-ninth and thirtieth are properly not canons, but repetitions of proposals made in a previous session. the most important enactments of the council of chalcedon were the following: ( ) the approval of the canons of the first three ecumenical councils and of the synods of ancyra, neo-caesarea, changra, antioch and laodicea; ( ) forbidding trade, secular pursuits and war to the clergy, bishops not even being allowed to administer the property of their dioceses; ( ) forbidding monks and nuns to marry or to return to the world; likewise forbidding the establishment of a monastery in any diocese without the consent of the bishop, or the disestablishment of a monastery once consecrated; ( ) punishing with deposition an ordination or clerical appointment made for money; forbidding "absolute ordination" (i.e. without assignment to a particular charge), the translation of clerics except for good cause, the enrolment of a cleric in two churches at once, and the performance of sacerdotal functions outside of one's diocese without letters of commendation from one's bishop; ( ) confirming the jurisdiction of bishops over all clerics, regular and secular alike, and punishing with deposition any conspiracy against episcopal authority; ( ) establishing a gradation of ecclesiastical tribunals, viz. bishop, provincial synod, exarch of the diocese, patriarch of constantinople (obviously the council could not here have been legislating for the entire church); forbidding clerics to be running to constantinople with complaints, without the consent of their respective bishops; ( ) confirming the possession of rural parishes to those who had actually administered them for thirty years, providing for the adjudication of conflicting claims, and guaranteeing the integrity of metropolitan provinces; ( ) confirming the third canon of the second ecumenical council, which accorded to constantinople equal privileges ([greek: isa presbeia]) with rome, and the second rank among the patriarchates, and, in addition, granting to constantinople patriarchal jurisdiction over pontus, asia and thrace. the roman legates, who were absent (designedly?) when this famous twenty-eighth canon was adopted, protested against it, but in vain, the imperial commissioners deciding in favour of its regularity and validity. leo i., although he recognized the council as ecumenical and confirmed its doctrinal decrees, rejected canon xxviii. on the ground that it contravened the sixth canon of nicaea and infringed the rights of alexandria and antioch. in what proportion zeal for the ancient canons and the rights of others, and jealous fear of encroachment upon his own jurisdiction, were mixed in the motives of leo, it would be interesting to know. the canon was universally received in the east, and was expressly confirmed by the quinisext council, (see constantinople, councils of). the emperor marcian approved the doctrinal decrees of the council and enjoined silence in regard to theological questions. eutyches and dioscurus and their followers were deposed and banished. but harmony was not thus to be restored; hardly had the council dissolved when the church was plunged into the monophysite controversy. see mansi vi. pp. - , vii. pp. - ; hardouin ii. pp. - ; hefele ( nd ed.) ii. pp. - (english translation, iii. pp. - ); also extended bibliographies in herzog-hauck, _realencyklopädie_, rd ed., s.v. "eutyches" (by loofs) and s.v. "nestorianer" (by kessler). (t. f. c.) chalcedony, or calcedony (sometimes called by old writers cassidoine), a variety of native silica, often used as an ornamental stone. the present application of the term is comparatively modern. the "chalcedonius" of pliny was quite a different mineral, being a green stone from the copper-mines of chalcedon, in asia minor, whence the name. there has been some confusion between chalcedony and the ancient "carcedonia," a stone which seems to have been a carbuncle from africa, brought by way of carthage ([greek: karchêdôn]). our chalcedony was probably included by the ancients among the various kinds of jasper and agate, especially the varieties termed "leucachates" and "cerachates." by modern mineralogists the name chalcedony is restricted to those kinds of silica which occur not in distinct crystals like ordinary quartz, but in concretionary, mammillated or stalactitic forms, which break with a fine splintery fracture, and display a delicate fibrous structure. chalcedony may be regarded as a micro-crystalline form of quartz. it is rather softer and less dense than crystallized quartz, its hardness being about . and its specific gravity . , the difference being probably due to the presence of a small amount of opaline silica between the fibres. chalcedony is a translucent substance of rather waxy lustre, presenting great variety of colours, though usually white, grey, yellow or brown. a rare blue chalcedony is sometimes polished under the name of "sapphirine"--a term applied also to a distinct mineral (an aluminium-magnesium silicate) from greenland. chalcedony occurs as a secondary mineral in volcanic rocks, representing usually the silica set free by the decomposition of various silicates, and deposited in cracks, forming veins, or in vesicular hollows, forming amygdales. its occurrence gives the name to chalcedony park, arizona. it is found in the basalts of n. ireland, the faroe isles and iceland: it is common in the traps of the deccan in india, and in volcanic rocks in uruguay and brazil. certain flat oval nodules from a decomposed lava (augite-andesite) in uruguay present a cavity lined with quartz crystals and enclosing liquid (a weak saline solution), with a movable air-bubble, whence they are called "enhydros" or water-stones. very fine examples of stalactitic chalcedony, in whimsical forms, have been yielded by some of the cornish copper-mines. the surface of chalcedony is occasionally coated with a delicate bluish bloom. a chalcedonic deposit in the form of concentric rings, on fossils and fragments of limestone in s. devon, is known as "orbicular silica" or "beekite," having been named after dr henry beeke, dean of bristol, who first directed attention to such deposits. certain pseudomorphs of chalcedony after datolite, from haytor in devonshire, have received the name of "haytorite." optical examination of many chalcedonic minerals by french mineralogists has shown that they are aggregates of various fibrous crystalline bodies differing from each other in certain optical characters, whence they are distinguished as separate minerals under such names as calcedonite, pseudocalcedonite, quartzine, lutecite and lussatite. many coloured and variegated chalcedonies are cut and polished as ornamental stones, and are described under special headings. chalcedony has been in all ages the commonest of the stones used by the gem-engraver. see agate, bloodstone, carnelian, chrysoprase, heliotrope, mocha stone, onyx, sard and sardonyx. (f. w. r.*) chalcidicum, in roman architecture, the vestibule or portico of a public building opening on to the forum; as in the basilica of eumactria at pompeii, and the basilica of constantine at rome, where it was placed at one end. chalcis, the chief town of the island of euboea in greece, situated on the strait of the euripus at its narrowest point. the name is preserved from antiquity and is derived from the greek [greek: chalkos] (copper, bronze), though there is no trace of any mines in the neighbourhood. chalcis was peopled by an ionic stock which early developed great industrial and colonizing activity. in the th and th centuries it founded thirty town-ships on the peninsula of chalcidice, and several important cities in sicily (q.v.). its mineral produce, metal-work, purple and pottery not only found markets among these settlements, but were distributed over the mediterranean in the ships of corinth and samos. with the help of these allies chalcis engaged the rival league of its neighbour eretria (q.v.) in the so-called lelantine war, by which it acquired the best agricultural district of euboea and became the chief city of the island. early in the th century its prosperity was broken by a disastrous war with the athenians, who expelled the ruling aristocracy and settled a cleruchy on the site. chalcis subsequently became a member of both the delian leagues. in the hellenistic period it gained importance as a fortress by which the macedonian rulers controlled central greece. it was used by kings antiochus iii. of syria ( ) and mithradates vi. of pontus ( ) as a base for invading greece. under roman rule chalcis retained a measure of commercial prosperity; since the th century a.d. it again served as a fortress for the protection of central greece against northern invaders. from it stood under venetian control; in it passed to the ottomans, who made it the seat of a pasha. in it was successfully held against a strong venetian attack. the modern town has about , inhabitants, and maintains a considerable export trade which received an impetus from the establishment of railway connexion with athens and peiraeus ( ). it is composed of two parts--the old walled town towards the euripus, called the castro, where the jewish and turkish families who have remained there mostly dwell; and the more modern suburb that lies outside it, which is chiefly occupied by the greeks. a part of the walls of the castro and many of the houses within it were shaken down by the earthquake of ; part has been demolished in the widening of the euripus. the most interesting object is the church of st paraskeve, which was once the chief church of the venetians; it dates from the byzantine period, though many of its architectural features are western. there is also a turkish mosque, which is now used as a guard-house. authorities.--strabo vii. fr. , x. p. ; herodotus v. ; thucydides i. ; _corpus inscr. atticarum_, iv. ( ) a, iv. ( ) , iv. ( ) p. ; w.m. leake, _travels in northern greece_ (london, ), ii. - ; e. curtius in _hermes_, x. ( ), p. sqq.; a. holm, _lange fehde_ (berlin, ); h. dondorff, _de rebus chalcidensium_ (göttingen, ); for coinage, b.v. head, _historia numorum_ (oxford, ), pp. - ; and art. numismatics: _greek_ § euboea. chalcondyles[ ] (or chalcocondylas), laonicus, the only athenian byzantine writer. hardly anything is known of his life. he wrote a history, in ten books, of the period from - , describing the fall of the greek empire and the rise of the ottoman turks, which forms the centre of the narrative, down to the conquest of the venetians and mathias, king of hungary, by mahommed ii. the capture of constantinople he rightly regarded as an historical event of far-reaching importance, although the comparison of it to the fall of troy is hardly appropriate. the work incidentally gives a quaint and interesting sketch of the manners and civilization of england, france and germany, whose assistance the greeks sought to obtain against the turks. like that of other byzantine writers, chalcondyles' chronology is defective, and his adherence to the old greek geographical nomenclature is a source of confusion. for his account of earlier events he was able to obtain information from his father, who was one of the most prominent men in athens during the struggles between the greek and frankish nobles. his model is thucydides (according to bekker, herodotus); his language is tolerably pure and correct, his style simple and clear. the text, however, is in a very corrupt state. _editio princeps_, ed. j.b. baumbach ( ); in bonn _corpus scriptorum hist. byz._ ed. i. bekker ( ); migne, _patrologia graeca_, clix. there is a french translation by blaise de vigenère ( , later ed. by artus thomas with valuable illustrations on turkish matters); see also f. gregorovius, _geschichte der stadt athen im mittelalter_, ii. ( ); gibbon, _decline and fall_, ch. ; c. krumbacher, _geschichte der byzantinischen litteratur_ ( ). there is a biographical sketch of laonicus and his brother in greek by antonius calosynas, a physician of toledo, who lived in the latter part of the th century (see c. hopf, _chroniques gréco-romanes_, ). his brother, demetrius chalcondyles ( - ), was born in athens. in he migrated to italy, where cardinal bessarion gave him his patronage. he became famous as a teacher of greek letters and the platonic philosophy; in he was made professor at padua, and in he was summoned by lorenzo de' medici to florence to fill the professorship vacated by john argyropoulos. in he removed to milan, where he died in . he was associated with marsilius ficinus, angelus politianus, and theodorus gaza, in the revival of letters in the western world. one of his pupils at florence was the famous john reuchlin. demetrius chalcondyles published the editio princeps of homer, isocrates, and suidas, and a greek grammar (_erotemata_) in the form of question and answer. see h. hody, _de graecis illustribus_ ( ); c. hopf, _chroniques gréco-romanes_ ( ); e. legrand, _bibliographic hellénique_, i. ( ). footnote: [ ] a shortened form of chalcocondyles, from [greek: chalkos], copper, and [greek: kondylos], knuckle. chaldaea. the expressions "chaldaea" and "chaldaeans" are frequently used in the old testament as equivalents for "babylonia" and "babylonians." chaldaea was really the name of a country, used in two senses. it was first applied to the extreme southern district, whose ancient capital was the city of _bit yakin_, the chief seat of the renowned chaldaean rebel merodach-baladan, who harassed the assyrian kings sargon and sennacherib. it is not as yet possible to fix the exact boundaries of the original home of the chaldaeans, but it may be regarded as having been the long stretch of alluvial land situated at the then separate mouths of the tigris and euphrates, which rivers now combine to flow into the persian gulf in the waters of the majestic _shatt el 'arab_. the name "chaldaea," however, soon came to have a more extensive application. in the days of the assyrian king ramman-nirari iii. ( - b.c.), the term _mat kaldu_ covered practically all babylonia. furthermore, merodach-baladan was called by sargon ii. ( - b.c.) "king of the land of the chaldaeans" and "king of the land of bit yakin" after the old capital city, but there is no satisfactory evidence that merodach-baladan had the right to the title "babylonian." the racial distinction between the chaldaeans and the babylonians proper seems to have existed until a much later date, although it is almost certain that the former were originally a semitic people. that they differed from the arabs and aramaeans is also seen from the distinction made by sennacherib ( - b.c.) between the chaldaeans and these races. later, during the period covering the fall of assyria and the rise of the neo-babylonian empire, the term _mat kaldu_ was not only applied to all babylonia, but also embraced the territory of certain foreign nations who were later included by ezekiel (xxiii. ) under the expression "chaldaeans." as already indicated, the chaldaeans were most probably a semitic people. it is likely that they first came from arabia, the supposed original home of the semitic races, at a very early date along the coast of the persian gulf and settled in the neighbourhood of ur ("ur of the chaldees," gen. xi. ), whence they began a series of encroachments, partly by warfare and partly by immigration, against the other semitic babylonians. these aggressions after many centuries ended in the chaldaean supremacy of nabopolassar and his successors (c. ff.), although there is no positive proof that nabopolassar was purely chaldaean in blood. the sudden rise of the later babylonian empire under nebuchadrezzar, the son of nabopolassar, must have tended to produce so thorough an amalgamation of the chaldaeans and babylonians, who had theretofore been considered as two kindred branches of the same original semite stock, that in the course of time no perceptible differences existed between them. a similar amalgamation, although in this case of two peoples originally racially distinct, has taken place in modern times between the manchu tatars and the chinese. it is quite evident, for example, from the semitic character of the chaldaean king-names, that the language of these chaldaeans differed in no way from the ordinary semitic babylonian idiom which was practically identical with that of assyria. consequently, the term "chaldaean" came quite naturally to be used in later days as synonymous with "babylonian." when subsequently the babylonian language went out of use and aramaic took its place, the latter tongue was wrongly termed "chaldee" by jerome, because it was the only language known to him used in babylonia. this error was followed until a very recent date by many scholars. the derivation of the name "chaldaean" is extremely uncertain. peter jensen has conjectured with slight probability that the chaldaeans were semitized sumerians, i.e. a non-semitic tribe which by contact with semitic influences had lost its original character. there seems to be little or no evidence to support such a view. friedrich delitzsch derived the name "chaldaean" =_kasdim_ from the non-semitic kassites who held the supremacy over practically all babylonia during an extended period (c. - b.c.). this theory seems also to be extremely improbable. it is much more likely that the name "chaldaean" is connected with the semitic stem _kasadu_ (conquer), in which case _kaldi-kasdi_, with the well-known interchange of l and _s_, would mean "conquerors." it is also possible that _kasdu-kaldu_ is connected with the proper name chesed, who is represented as having been the nephew of abraham (gen. xxii. ). there is no connexion whatever between the black sea peoples called "chaldaeans" by xenophon (_anab_. vii. ) and the chaldaeans of babylonia. in daniel, the term "chaldaeans" is very commonly employed with the meaning "astrologers, astronomers," which sense also appears in the classical authors, notably in herodotus, strabo and diodorus. in daniel i. , by the expression "tongue of the chaldaeans," the writer evidently meant the language in which the celebrated babylonian works on astrology and divination were composed. it is now known that the literary idiom of the babylonian wise men was the non-semitic sumerian; but it is not probable that the late author of daniel (c. b.c.) was aware of this fact. the word "chaldaean" is used in daniel in two senses. it is applied as elsewhere in the old testament as a race-name to the babylonians (dan. iii. , v. , ix. ); but the expression is used oftener, either as a name for some special class of magicians, or as a term for magicians in general (ix. ). the transfer of the name of the people to a special class is perhaps to be explained in the following manner. as just shown, "chaldaean" and "babylonian" had become in later times practically synonymous, but the term "chaldaean" had lived on in the secondary restricted sense of "wise men." the early _kaldi_ had seized and held from very ancient times the region of old sumer, which was the centre of the primitive non-semitic culture. it seems extremely probable that these chaldaean semites were so strongly influenced by the foreign civilization as to adopt it eventually as their own. then, as the chaldaeans soon became the dominant people, the priestly caste of that region developed into a chaldaean institution. it is reasonable to conjecture that southern babylonia, the home of the old culture, supplied babylon and other important cities with priests, who from their descent were correctly called "chaldaeans." this name in later times, owing to the racial amalgamation of the chaldaeans and babylonians, lost its former national force, and became, as it occurs in daniel, a distinctive appellation of the babylonian priestly class. it is possible, though not certain, that the occurrence of the word _kalu_ (priest) in babylonian, which has no etymological connexion with _kaldu_, may have contributed paronomastically towards the popular use of the term "chaldaeans" for the babylonian magi. (see also astrology.) literature.--delattre, _les chaldéens jusqu'à la fond. de l'emp. de nebuch._ ( ); winckler, _untersuchungen zur altor. gesch._ ( ), pp. ff.; _gesch. bab. u. assyr._ ( ), pp. ff.; prince, _commentary on daniel_ ( ), pp. - ; see also babylonia and assyria and sumer and sumerian. (j. d. pr.) chaldee, a term sometimes applied to the aramaic portions of the biblical books of ezra and daniel or to the vernacular paraphrases of the old testament (see targum). the explanation formerly adopted and embodied in the name chaldee is that the change took place in babylon. that the so-called biblical chaldee, in which considerable portions of the books of ezra and daniel are written, was really the language of babylon was supposed to be clear from dan. ii. , where the chaldaeans are said to have spoken to the king in aramaic. but the cuneiform inscriptions show that the language of the chaldaeans was assyrian; and an examination of the very large part of the hebrew old testament written later than the exile proves conclusively that the substitution of aramaic for hebrew as the vernacular of palestine took place very gradually. hence scholars are now agreed that the term "chaldee" is a misnomer, and that the dialect so called is really the language of the south-western arameans, who were the immediate neighbours of the jews (w. wright, _comparative grammar of the semitic languages_, p. ). (see semitic languages.) chalice (through a central o. fr. form of the lat. _calix_, _calicis_, cup), a drinking-vessel of the cup or goblet form, now only used of the cup used in the celebration of the eucharist (q.v.). for the various forms which the "chalice" so used has taken, see drinking-vessels and plate. when, in the eucharistic service, water is mixed with the wine, the "chalice" is known as the "mixed chalice." this has been customary both in the eastern and western churches from early times. the armenian church does not use the "mixed chalice." it was used in the english church before the reformation. according to the present law of the english church, the mixing of the water with wine is lawful, if this is not done as part of or during the services, i.e. if it is not done ceremonially (_martin_ v. _mackonochie_, , l.r. p.c. ; _read_ v. _bp. of lincoln_, , a.c. ). chalier, joseph ( - ), french revolutionist. he was destined by his family for the church, but entered business, and became a partner in a firm at lyons for which he travelled in the levant, in italy, spain and portugal. he was in paris in , and entered into relations with marat, camille desmoulins and robespierre. on his return to lyons, chalier was the first to be named member of the municipal bureau. he organized the national guard, applied the civil constitution of the clergy, and regulated the finances of the city so as to tax the rich heavily and spare the poor. denounced to the legislative assembly by the directory of the department of rhone-et-loire for having made a nocturnal domiciliary perquisition, he was sent to the bar of the assembly, which approved of his conduct. in the election for mayor of lyons, in november , he was defeated by a royalist. then chalier became the orator and leader of the jacobins of lyons, and induced the other revolutionary clubs and the commune of his city to arrest a great number of royalists in the night of the th and th of february . the mayor, supported by the national guard, opposed this project. chalier demanded of the convention the establishment of a revolutionary tribunal and the levy of a revolutionary army at lyons. the convention refused, and the anti-revolutionary party, encouraged by this refusal, took action. on the th and th of may the sections rose; the jacobins were dispossessed of the municipality and chalier arrested. on the th of july, in spite of the order of the convention, he was brought before the criminal tribunal of the rhone-et-loire, condemned to death, and guillotined the next day. the terrorists paid a veritable worship to his memory, as to a martyr of liberty. see n. wahl, "Étude sur chalier," in _revue historique_, t. xxxiv.; and _les premières années de la révolution à lyon_ (paris, ). chalk, the name given to any soft, pulverulent, pure white limestone. the word is an old one, having its origin in the saxon _cealc_, and the hard form "kalk" is still in use amongst the country folk of lincolnshire. the german _kalk_ comprehends all forms of limestone; therefore a special term, _kreide_, is employed for chalk--french _craie_. from being used as a common name, denoting a particular material, the word was subsequently utilized by geologists as an appellation for the _chalk formation_; and so prominent was this formation in the eyes of the earlier workers that it imposed its name upon a whole system of rocks, the cretaceous (lat. _creta_, chalk), although this rock itself is by no means generally characteristic of the system as a whole. the chalk formation, in addition to the typical chalk material--_creta scriptoria_--comprises several variations; argillaceous kinds--_creta marga_ of linnaeus--known locally as malm, marl, clunch, &c.; and harder, more stony kinds, called rag, freestone, rock, hurlock or harrock in different districts. in certain parts of the formation layers of nodular flints (q.v.) abound; in parts, it is inclined to be sandy, or to contain grains of glauconite which was originally confounded with another green mineral, chlorite, hence the name "chloritic marl" applied to one of the subdivisions of the chalk. in its purest form chalk consists of from to % of calcium carbonate (carbonate of lime); in this condition it is composed of a mass of fine granular particles held together by a somewhat feeble calcareous cement. the particles are mostly the broken tests of foraminifera, along with the débris of echinoderm and molluscan shells, and many minute bodies, like coccoliths, of somewhat obscure nature. the earliest attempts at subdivision of the chalk formation initiated by wm. phillips were based upon lithological characters, and such a classification as "upper chalk with flints," "lower chalk without flints," "chalk marl or grey chalk," was generally in use in england until w. whitaker established the following order in :-- upper chalk, with flints / chalk rock lower chalk < chalk with few flints \ chalk without flints chalk marl / totternhoe stone \ " marl in france, a similar system of classification was in vogue, the subdivisions being _craie blanche_, _craie tufan_, _craie chloritée_, until when d'orbigny proposed the term _senonien_ for the upper chalk and _turonien_ for the lower; later he divided the _turonien_, giving the name _cénomanien_ to the lower portion. the subdivisions of d'orbigny were based upon the fossil contents and not upon the lithological characters of the rocks. in prof. ch. barrois showed how d'orbigny's classification might be applied to the british chalk rocks; and this scheme has been generally adopted by geologists, although there is some divergence of opinion as to the exact position of the base line of the cenomanian. the accompanying table shows the classification now adopted in england, with the zonal fossils and the continental names of the substages:-- +-----------------------------------------------+---------------------+----------+-----------+ | | |n. france | s.e. and | | zonal fossils used in britain. | stages. | and | s. france.| | | | belgium.*| | +-----------------------------------------------+---------------------+----------+-----------+ | / _ostrea lunata_ (norfolk) | danian? | | | | | | (trimingham) | | | | | _belemnitella mucronata_ | | | | |a.< _actinocamax quadratus_ | upper chalk | | | | | = _inoceramus lingua_ in yorkshire | senonian | flint- | | | | / _marsupites_,| _craie blanche_ | bearing | | | \ _marsupites testudinarium_ \ _uintacrinus_| | chalk. | | | | | | marls, | | / _micraster cor-anguinum_ | | | sandstones| |b.< " _cor-testudinarium_ | | | and | | \ _holaster planus_, chalk rock | | | limestones| +-----------------------------------------------+---------------------+ | (not | | _terebratulina gracilis_ | middle chalk | | chalky) | | | turonian | | with | | _rhynchonella cuvieri_, melbourne rock | _craie marneuse_ | | _hippur- | +-----------------------------------------------+---------------------+ | ites_. | | | lower chalk, | | | | | chalk marl and | | | | | cambridge greensand | marly | | | _actinocamax plenus_ | cenomanian | chalk. | | | _holaster subglobosus_, totternhoe stone. | | | | | _schloenbachia varians_. | _craie glauconieuse_| | | +-----------------------------------------------+---------------------+----------+-----------+ * (see table in article cretaceous system,) since prof. barrois introduced the zonal system of subdivision (c. evans had used a similar scheme six years earlier), our knowledge of the english chalk has been greatly increased by the work of jukes-browne and william hill, and particularly by the laborious studies of dr a.w. rowe. instead of employing the mixed assemblage of animals indicated as zone fossils in the table, a. de grossouvre proposed a scheme for the north of france based upon ammonite faunas alone, which he contended would be of more general applicability (_recherches sur la craie supérieure_, paris, ). the upper chalk has a maximum thickness in england of about ft., but post-cretaceous erosion has removed much of it in many districts. it is more constant in character, and more typically chalky than the lower stages; flints are abundant, and harder nodular beds are limited to the lower portions, where some of the compact limestones are known as "chalk rock." the thickness of the middle chalk varies from about to ft.; flints become scarcer in descending from the upper to the lower portions. the whole is more compact than the upper stage, and nodular layers are more frequent--the "chalk rock" of dorset and the isle of wight belong to this stage. at the base is the hard "melbourne rock." the thickness of the lower chalk in england varies from to ft. this stage includes part of the "white chalk without flints," the "chalk marl," and the "grey chalk." the totternhoe stone is a hard freestone found locally in this stage. the basement bed in norfolk is a pure limestone, but very frequently it is marly with grains of sand and glauconite, and often contains phosphatic nodules; this facies is equivalent to the "cambridge greensand" of some districts and the "chloritic marl" of others. in devonshire the lower chalk has become thin sandy calcareous series. the chalk can be traced in england from flamborough head in yorkshire, in a south-westerly direction, to the coast of dorset; and it not only underlies the whole of the s.e. corner, where it is often obscured by tertiary deposits, but it can be followed across the channel into northern france. rocks of the same age as the chalk are widespread (see cretaceous system); but the variety of limestone properly called by this name is almost confined to the anglo-parisian basin. some chalk occurs in the great cretaceous deposits of russia, and in kansas, iowa, nebraska and s. dakota in the united states. hard white chalk occurs in ireland in antrim, and on the opposite shore of scotland in mull and morven. _economic products of the chalk._--common chalk has been frequently used for rough building purposes, but the more important building stones are "beer stone," from beer head in devonshire, "sutton stone" from a little north of beer, and the "totternhoe stone." it is burned for lime, and when mixed with some form of clay is used for the manufacture of cement; chalk marl has been used alone for this purpose. as a manure, it has been much used as a dressing for clayey land. flints from the chalk are used for road metal and concrete, and have been employed in building as a facing for walls. phosphatic nodules for manure have been worked from the chloritic marl and cambridge greensand, and to some extent from the middle chalk. the same material is worked at ciply in belgium and picardy in france. chalk is employed in the manufacture of carbonate of soda, in the preparation of carbon dioxide, and in many other chemical processes; also for making paints, crayons and tooth-powder. _whiting_ or _spanish white_, used to polish glass and metal, is purified chalk prepared by triturating common chalk with a large quantity of water, which is then decanted and allowed to deposit the finely-divided particles it holds in suspension. _chalk scenery._--where exposed at the surface, chalk produces rounded, smooth, grass-covered hills as in the downs of southern england and the wolds of yorkshire and lincolnshire. the hills are often intersected by clean-cut dry valleys. it forms fine cliffs on the coast of kent, yorkshire and devonshire. chalk is employed medicinally as a very mild astringent either alone or more usually with other astringents. it is more often used, however, for a purely mechanical action, as in the preparation hydrargyrum cum creta. as an antacid its use has been replaced by other drugs. _black chalk_ or _drawing slate_ is a soft carbonaceous schist, which gives a black streak, so that it can be used for drawing or writing. _brown chalk_ is a kind of umber. _red chalk_ or _reddle_ is an impure earthy variety of haematite. _french chalk_ is a soft variety of steatite, a hydrated magnesium silicate. the most comprehensive account of the british chalk is contained in the _memoirs of the geological survey of the united kingdom_, "the cretaceous rocks of britain," vol. ii. , vol. iii. (with bibliography), by jukes-browne and hill. see also "the white chalk of the english coast," several papers in the _proceedings of the geologists' association_, london, ( ) kent and sussex, xvi. , ( ) dorset, xvii., , ( ) devon, xviii., , ( ) yorkshire, xviii., . (j. a. h.) chalkhill, john (fl. ?), english poet. two songs by him are included in izaak walton's _compleat angler_, and in appeared "thealma and clearchus. a pastoral history in smooth and easie verse. written long since by john chalkhill, esq., an acquaintant and friend of edmund spencer" ( ), with a preface written five years earlier by walton. another poem, "alcilia, philoparthens loving follie" ( , reprinted in vol. x. of the _jahrbuch des deutschen shakespeare-vereins_), was at one time attributed to him. nothing further is known of the poet, but a person of his name occurs as one of the coroners for middlesex in the later years of queen elizabeth's reign. professor saintsbury, who included _thealma and clearchus_ in vol. ii. of his _minor poets of the caroline period_ (oxford, ), points out a marked resemblance between his work and that of william chamberlayne. chalking the door, a scottish custom of landlord and tenant law. in former days the law was that "a burgh officer, in presence of witnesses, chalks the most patent door forty days before whit sunday, having made out an execution of 'chalking,' in which his name must be inserted, and which must be subscribed by himself and two witnesses." this ceremony now proceeds simply on the verbal order of the proprietor. the execution of chalking is a warrant under which decree of removal will be pronounced by the burgh court, in virtue of which the tenant may be ejected on the expiration of a charge of six days. challamel, jean baptiste marius augustin ( - ), french historian, was born in paris on the th of march . his writings consist chiefly of popular works, which enjoyed great success. the value of some of his books is enhanced by numerous illustrations, e.g. _histoire-museé de la révolution française_, which appeared in numbers in - ( rd ed., in numbers, - ); _histoire de la mode en france; la toilette des femmes depuis l'époque gallo-romaine jusqu'à nos jours_ ( , with plates; new ed., , with coloured plates). his _mémoires du peuple française_ ( - ) and _la france et les français a travers les siécles_ ( ) at least have the merit of being among the first books written on the social history of france. in this sense challamel was a pioneer, of no great originality, it is true, but at any rate of fairly wide information. he died on the th of october . challemel-lacour, paul amand ( - ), french statesman, was born at avranches on the th of may . after passing through the École normale supérieure he became professor of philosophy successively at pau and at limoges. the _coup d'état_ of caused his expulsion from france for his republican opinions. he travelled on the continent, and in settled down as professor of french literature at the polytechnic of zürich. the amnesty of enabled him to return to france, but a projected course of lectures on history and art was immediately suppressed. he now supported himself by his pen, and became a regular contributor to the reviews. on the fall of the second empire in september the government of national defence appointed him prefect of the department of the rhone, in which capacity he had to suppress the communist rising at lyons. resigning his post on the th of february , he was in january elected to the national assembly, and in to the senate. he sat at first on the extreme left; but his philosophic and critical temperament was not in harmony with the recklessness of french radicalism, and his attitude towards political questions underwent a steady modification, till the close of his life saw him the foremost representative of moderate republicanism. during gambetta's lifetime, however, challemel-lacour was one of his warmest supporters, and he was for a time editor of gambetta's organ, the _république française_. in he was appointed french ambassador at bern, and in was transferred to london; but he lacked the suppleness and command of temper necessary to a successful diplomatist. he resigned in , and in february became minister of foreign affairs in the jules ferry cabinet, but retired in november of the same year. in he was elected vice-president of the senate, and in succeeded jules ferry as its president. his influence over that body was largely due to his clear and reasoned eloquence, which placed him at the head of contemporary french orators. in he also became a member of the french academy. he distinguished himself by the vigour with which he upheld the senate against the encroachments of the chamber, but in failing health forced him to resign, and he died in paris on the th of october . he published a translation of a. heinrich ritter's _geschichte der philosophie_ ( ); _la philosophie individualiste: étude sur guillaume de humboldt_ ( ); and an edition of the works of madame d'Épinay ( ). in appeared joseph reinach's edition of the _oeuvres oratoires de challemel-lacour_. challenge (o. fr. _chalonge, calenge_, &c., from lat. _calumnia_, originally meaning trickery, from _calvi_, to deceive, hence a false accusation, a "calumny"), originally a charge against a person or a claim to anything, a defiance. the term is now particularly used of an invitation to a trial of skill in any contest, or to a trial by combat as a vindication of personal honour (see duel), and, in law, of the objection to the members of a jury allowed in a civil action or in a criminal trial (see jury). "challenger" expedition. the scientific results of several short expeditions between and encouraged the council of the royal society to approach the british government, on the suggestion of sir george richards, hydrographer to the admiralty, with a view to commissioning a vessel for a prolonged cruise for oceanic exploration. the government detailed h.m.s. "challenger," a wooden corvette of tons, for the purpose. captain (afterwards sir) george nares was placed in command, with a naval crew; and a scientific staff was selected by the society with professor (afterwards sir) c. wyville thomson as director. the staff included mr (afterwards sir) john murray and mr h.n. moseley, biologists; dr von willemoes-suhm, commander tizard, and mr j.y. buchanan, chemist and geologist. a complete scheme of instructions was drawn up by the society. the "challenger" sailed from portsmouth in december . for nearly a year the work of the expedition lay in the atlantic, which was crossed several times. teneriffe, the bermudas, the azores, madeira, the cape verd islands, bahia and tristan da cunha were successively visited, and in october the ship reached cape town. steering then south-east and east she visited the various islands between ° and ° s., and reached kerguelen island in january . she next proceeded southward about the meridian of ° e. she was the first steamship to cross the antarctic circle, but the attainment of a high southerly latitude was not an object of the voyage, and early in march the ship left the south polar regions and made for melbourne. extensive researches were now made in the pacific. the route led by new zealand, the fiji islands, torres strait, the banda sea, and the china sea to hong kong. the western pacific was then explored northward to yokohama, after which the "challenger" struck across the ocean by honolulu and tahiti to valparaiso. she then coasted southward, penetrated the straits of magellan, touched at montevideo, recrossed the atlantic by ascension and the azores, and reached sheerness in may . this voyage is without parallel in the history of scientific research. the _"challenger" report_ was issued in fifty volumes (london, - ), mainly under the direction of sir john murray, who succeeded wyville thomson in this work in . specialists in every branch of science assisted in its production. the zoological collections alone formed the basis for the majority of the volumes; the deep-sea soundings and samples of the deposits, the chemical analysis of water samples, the meteorological, water-temperature, magnetic, geological, and botanical observations were fully worked out, and a summary of the scientific results, narrative of the cruise and indices were also provided. see also lord g. campbell, _log letters from the "challenger"_, ( ); w.j.j. spry, _cruise of h.m.s. "challenger"_ ( ); sir c. wyville thomson, _voyage of the "challenger," the atlantic, preliminary account of general results_ ( ); j.j. wild, _at anchor; narrative of experiences afloat and ashore during the voyage of h.m.s. "challenger"_ ( ); h.n. moseley, _notes by a naturalist on the "challenger"_ ( ). challoner, richard ( - ), english roman catholic prelate, was born at lewes, sussex, on the th of september . after the death of his father, who was a rigid dissenter, his mother, left in poverty, lived with some roman catholic families. thus it came about that he was brought up as a roman catholic, chiefly at the seat of mr holman at warkworth, northamptonshire, where the rev. john gother, a celebrated controversialist, officiated as chaplain. in he was sent to the english college at douai, where he was ordained a priest in , took his degrees in divinity, and was appointed professor in that faculty. in he was sent on the english mission and stationed in london. the controversial treatises which he published in rapid succession attracted much attention, particularly his _catholic christian instructed_ ( ), which was prefaced by a witty reply to dr conyers middleton's _letters from rome, showing an exact conformity between popery and paganism_. middleton is said to have been so irritated that he endeavoured to put the penal laws in force against his antagonist, who prudently withdrew from london. in challoner was raised to the episcopal dignity at hammersmith, and nominated co-adjutor with right of succession to bishop benjamin petre, vicar-apostolic of the london district, whom he succeeded in . he resided principally in london, but was obliged to retire into the country during the "no popery" riots of . he died on the th of january , and was buried at milton, berkshire. bishop challoner was the author of numerous controversial and devotional works, which have been frequently reprinted and translated into various languages. he compiled the _garden of the soul_ ( ?), which continues to be the most popular manual of devotion among english-speaking roman catholics, and he revised an edition of the douai version of the scriptures ( - ), correcting the language and orthography, which in many places had become obsolete. of his historical works the most valuable is one which was intended to be a roman catholic antidote to foxe's well-known martyrology. it is entitled _memoirs of missionary priests and other catholicks of both sexes who suffered death or imprisonment in england on account of their religion, from the year till the end of the reign of charles ii._ ( vols. , frequently reprinted). he also published anonymously, in , the lives of english, scotch and irish saints, under the title of _britannia sancta_, an interesting work which has, however, been superseded by that of alban butler. for a complete list of his writings see j. gillow's _bibl. dict. of eng. cath._ i. - ; barnard, _life of r. challoner_ ( ); flanagan, _history of the catholic church in england_ ( ); there is also a critical history of challoner by rev. e. burton. chalmers, alexander ( - ), scottish writer, was born in aberdeen on the th of march . he was educated as a doctor, but gave up this profession for journalism, and he was for some time editor of the _morning herald_. besides editions of the works of shakespeare, beattie, fielding, johnson, warton, pope, gibbon, bolingbroke, he published _a general biographical dictionary_ in vols.( - ); a _glossary to shakspeare_ ( ); an edition of steevens's shakespeare ( ); and the _british essayists_, beginning with the _tatler_ and ending with the _observer_, with biographical and historical prefaces and a general index. he died in london on the th of december . chalmers, george ( - ), scottish antiquarian and political writer, was born at fochabers, a village in the county of moray, in . his father, james chalmers, was a grandson of george chalmers of pittensear, a small estate in the parish of lhanbryde, now st andrews-lhanbryde, in the same county, possessed by the main line of the family from about the beginning of the th to the middle of the th century. after completing the usual course at king's college, aberdeen, young chalmers studied law in edinburgh for several years. two uncles on the father's side having settled in america, he visited maryland in , with the view, it is said, of assisting to recover a tract of land of some extent about which a dispute had arisen, and was in this way induced to commence practice as a lawyer at baltimore, where for a time he met with much success. having, however, espoused the cause of the royalist party on the breaking out of the american war of independence, he found it expedient to abandon his professional prospects in the new world, and return to his native country. for the losses he had sustained as a colonist he received no compensation, and several years elapsed before he obtained an appointment that placed him in a state of comfort and independence. in the meantime chalmers applied himself with great diligence and assiduity to the investigation of the history and establishment of the english colonies in north america; and enjoying free access to the state papers and other documents preserved among what were then termed the plantation records, he became possessed of much important information. his work entitled _political annals of the present united colonies from their settlement to the peace of _, to, london, , was to have formed two volumes; but the second, which should have contained the period between and , never appeared. the first volume, however, is complete in itself, and traces the original settlement of the different american colonies, and the progressive changes in their constitutions and forms of government as affected by the state of public affairs in the parent kingdom. independently of its value as being compiled from original documents, it bears evidence of great research, and has been of essential benefit to later writers. continuing his researches, he next gave to the world _an estimate of the comparative strength of britain during the present and four preceding reigns_, london, , which passed through several editions. at length, in august , chalmers, whose sufferings as a royalist must have strongly recommended him to the government of the day, was appointed chief clerk to the committee of privy council on matters relating to trade, a situation which he retained till his death in , a period of nearly forty years. as his official duties made no great demands on his time, he had abundant leisure to devote to his favourite studies,--the antiquities and topography of scotland having thenceforth special attractions for his busy pen. besides biographical sketches of defoe, sir john davies, allan ramsay, sir david lyndsay, churchyard and others, prefixed to editions of their respective works, chalmers wrote a life of thomas paine, the author of the _rights of man_, which he published under the assumed name of francis oldys, a.m., of the university of pennsylvania; and a life of ruddiman, in which considerable light is thrown on the state of literature in scotland during the earlier part of the last century. his life of mary, queen of scots, in two to vols., was first published in . it is founded on a ms. left by john whitaker, the historian of manchester; but chalmers informs us that he found it necessary to rewrite the whole. the history of that ill-fated queen occupied much of his attention, and his last work, _a detection of the love-letters lately attributed in hugh campbell's work to mary queen of scots_, is an exposure of an attempt to represent as genuine some fictitious letters said to have passed between mary and bothwell which had fallen into deserved oblivion. in appeared his _apology for the believers in the shakespeare papers which were exhibited in norfolk street_, followed by other tracts on the same subject. these contributions to the literature of shakespeare are full of curious matter, but on the whole display a great waste of erudition, in seeking to show that papers which had been proved forgeries might nevertheless have been genuine. chalmers also took part in the junius controversy, and in _the author of junius ascertained, from a concatenation of circumstances amounting to moral demonstration_, lond. , vo, sought to fix the authorship of the celebrated letters on hugh boyd. in he published _the poetical remains of some of the scottish kings, now first collected_; and in the same year he edited and presented as a contribution to the bannatyne club _robene and makyne and the testament of cresseid, by robert henryson_. his political writings are equally numerous. among them may be mentioned _collection of treaties between great britain and other powers_, lond. , vols. vo; _vindication of the privileges of the people in respect to the constitutional right of free discussion_, &c., lond. , vo, published anonymously; _a chronological account of commerce and coinage in great britain from the restoration till _, lond. , vo; _opinions of eminent lawyers on various points of english jurisprudence, chiefly concerning the colonies, fisheries, and commerce of great britain_, lond. , vols. vo; _comparative views of the state of great britain before and since the war_, lond. , vo. but chalmers's greatest work is his _caledonia_, which, however, he did not live to complete. the first volume appeared in , and is introductory to the others. it is divided into four books, treating successively of the roman, the pictish, the scottish and the scoto-saxon periods, from to a.d. in these we are presented, in a condensed form, with an account of the people, the language and the civil and ecclesiastical history, as well as the agricultural and commercial state of scotland during the first thirteen centuries of our era. unfortunately the chapters on the roman period are entirely marred by the author's having accepted as genuine bertram's forgery _de situ britanniae_; but otherwise his opinions on controverted topics are worthy of much respect, being founded on a laborious investigation of all the original authorities that were accessible to him. the second volume, published in , gives an account of the seven south-eastern counties of scotland--roxburgh, berwick, haddington, edinburgh, linlithgow, peebles and selkirk--each of them being treated of as regards name, situation and extent, natural objects, antiquities, establishment as shires, civil history, agriculture, manufactures and trade, and ecclesiastical history. in , after an interval of fourteen years, the third volume appeared, giving, under the same headings, a description of the seven south-western counties--dumfries, kirkcudbright, wigtown, ayr, lanark, renfrew and dumbarton. in the preface to this volume the author states that the materials for the history of the central and northern counties were collected, and that he expected the work would be completed in two years, but this expectation was not destined to be realized. he had also been engaged on a history of scottish poetry and a history of printing in scotland. each of them he thought likely to extend to two large quarto volumes, and on both he expended an unusual amount of enthusiasm and energy. he had also prepared for the press an elaborate history of the life and reign of david i. in his later researches he was assisted by his nephew james, son of alexander chalmers, writer in elgin. george chalmers died in london on the st of may . his valuable and extensive library he bequeathed to his nephew, at whose death in it was sold and dispersed. chalmers was a member of the royal and antiquarian societies of london, an honorary member of the antiquarian society of scotland, and a member of other learned societies. in private life he was undoubtedly an amiable man, although the dogmatic tone that disfigures portions of his writings procured him many opponents. among his avowed antagonists in literary warfare the most distinguished were malone and steevens, the shakespeare editors; mathias, the author of the _pursuits of literature_; dr jamieson, the scottish lexicographer; pinkerton, the historian; dr irving, the biographer of the scottish poets; and dr currie of liverpool, but with all his failings in judgment chalmers was a valuable writer. he uniformly had recourse to original sources of information; and he is entitled to great praise for his patriotic and self-sacrificing endeavours to illustrate the history, literature and antiquities of his native country. (j. m'd.) chalmers, george paul ( - ), scottish painter, was born at montrose, and studied at edinburgh. his landscapes are now more valued than the portraits which formed his earlier work. the best of these are "the end of the harvest" ( ), "running water" ( ), and "the legend" (in the national gallery, edinburgh). he became an associate ( ) and a full member ( ) of the scottish academy. chalmers, james ( - ), scottish missionary to new guinea, was born at ardrishaig in argyll. after serving in the glasgow city mission he passed through cheshunt college, and, being accepted by the london missionary society, was appointed to rarotonga in the south pacific in . here the natives gave him the well-known name "tamate." after ten years' service, especially in training native evangelists, he was transferred to new guinea. in addition to his enthusiastic but sane missionary work, chalmers did much to open up the island, and, with his colleague w.g. lawes, gave valuable aid in the british annexation of the south-east coast of the island. on the th of april , in company with a brother missionary, oliver tomkins, he was killed by cannibals at goaribari island. r.l. stevenson has left on record his high appreciation of chalmers's character and work. chalmers's _autobiography and letters_ were edited by richard lovett in , who also wrote a popular life called _tamate_. chalmers, thomas ( - ), scottish divine, was born at anstruther in fifeshire, on the th of march . at the age of eleven he was entered as a student at st andrews, where he devoted himself almost exclusively to mathematics. in january he was licensed as a preacher of the gospel by the st andrews presbytery. in may , after attending further courses of lectures in edinburgh, and acting as assistant to the professor of mathematics at st andrews, he was ordained as minister of kilmany in fifeshire, about m. from the university town, where he continued to lecture. his mathematical lectures roused so much enthusiasm that they were discontinued by order of the authorities, who disliked the disturbance of the university routine which they involved. chalmers then opened mathematical classes on his own account which attracted many students; at the same time he delivered a course of lectures on chemistry, and ministered to his parish at kilmany. in he became a candidate for the vacant professorship of mathematics at edinburgh, but was unsuccessful. in he published an _inquiry into the extent and stability of national resources_, a contribution to the discussion created by bonaparte's commercial policy. domestic bereavements and a severe illness then turned his thoughts in another direction. at his own request the article on christianity was assigned to him in dr brewster's _edinburgh encyclopaedia_, and in studying the credentials of christianity he received a new impression of its contents. his journal and letters show how he was led from a sustained effort to attain the morality of the gospel to a profound spiritual revolution. after this his ministry was marked by a zeal which made it famous. the separate publication of his article in the _edinburgh encyclopaedia_, and contributions to the _edinburgh christian instructor_ and the _eclectic review_, enhanced his reputation as an author. in he became minister of the tron church, glasgow, in spite of determined opposition to him in the town council on the ground of his evangelical teaching. from glasgow his repute as a preacher spread throughout the united kingdom. a series of sermons on the relation between the discoveries of astronomy and the christian revelation was published in january , and within a year nine editions and , copies were in circulation. when he visited london wilberforce wrote, "all the world is wild about dr chalmers." in glasgow chalmers made one of his greatest contributions to the life of his own time by his experiments in parochial organization. his parish contained about , persons, and of these about one-third were unconnected with any church. he diagnosed this evil as being due to the absence of personal influence, spiritual oversight, and the want of parochial organizations which had not kept pace in the city, as they had done in rural parishes, with the growing population. he declared that twenty new churches, with parishes, should be erected in glasgow, and he set to work to revivify, remodel and extend the old parochial economy of scotland. the town council consented to build one new church, attaching to it a parish of , persons, mostly weavers, labourers and factory workers, and this church was offered to dr chalmers that he might have a fair opportunity of testing his system. in september he became minister of the church and parish of st john, where of families more than had no connexion with any christian church. he first addressed himself to providing schools for the children. two school-houses with four endowed teachers were established, where children were taught at the moderate fees of s. and s. per quarter. between and local sabbath schools were opened, where more than children were taught the elements of secular and religious education. the parish was divided into districts embracing from to families, over each of which an elder and a deacon were placed, the former taking oversight of their spiritual, the latter of their physical needs. chalmers was the mainspring of the whole system, not merely superintending the visitation, but personally visiting all the families, and holding evening meetings, when he addressed those whom he had visited. this parochial machinery enabled him to make a singularly successful experiment in dealing with the problem of poverty. at this time there were not more than parishes north of the forth and clyde where there was a compulsory assessment for the poor, but the english method of assessment was rapidly spreading. chalmers believed that compulsory assessment ended by swelling the evil it was intended to mitigate, and that relief should be raised and administered by voluntary means. his critics replied that this was impossible in large cities. when he undertook the management of the parish of st john's, the poor of the parish cost the city £ per annum, and in four years, by the adoption of his method, the pauper expenditure was reduced to £ per annum. the investigation of all new applications for relief was committed to the deacon of the district, and every effort was made to enable the poor to help themselves. when once the system was in operation it was found that a deacon, by spending an hour a week among the families committed to his charge, could keep himself acquainted with their character and condition. in , after eight years of work at high pressure, he was glad to accept the chair of moral philosophy at st andrews, the seventh academic offer made to him during his eight years in glasgow. in his lectures he excluded mental philosophy and included the whole sphere of moral obligation, dealing with man's duty to god and to his fellow-men in the light of christian teaching. many of his lectures are printed in the first and second volumes of his published works. in ethics he made contributions to the science in regard to the place and functions of volition and attention, the separate and underived character of the moral sentiments, and the distinction between the virtues of perfect and imperfect obligation. his lectures kindled the religious spirit among his students, and led some of them to devote themselves to missionary effort. in november he was transferred to the chair of theology in edinburgh. he then introduced the practice of following the lecture with a viva voce examination on what had been delivered. he also introduced text-books, and came into stimulating contact with his people; perhaps no one has ever succeeded as he did by the use of these methods in communicating intellectual, moral and religious impulse to so many students. these academic years were prolific also in a literature of various kinds. in he published a third volume of the _christian and civic economy of large towns_, a continuation of work begun at st john's, glasgow. in he published a _political economy_, the chief purpose of which was to enforce the truth that the right economic condition of the masses is dependent on their right moral condition, that character is the parent of comfort, not vice versa. in appeared a treatise on _the adaptation of external nature to the moral and intellectual constitution of man_. in dr chalmers was elected fellow of the royal society of edinburgh, and in the same year he became corresponding member of the institute of france; in oxford conferred on him the degree of d.c.l. in he became leader of the evangelical section of the scottish church in the general assembly. he was appointed chairman of a committee for church extension, and in that capacity made a tour through a large part of scotland, addressing presbyteries and holding public meetings. he also issued numerous appeals, with the result that in , when he resigned his office as convener of the church extension committee, he was able to announce that in seven years upwards of £ , had been contributed, and new churches had been built. his efforts to induce the whig government to assist in this effort were unsuccessful. in the movement which ended in the disruption was rapidly culminating, and dr chalmers found himself at the head of the party which stood for the principle that "no minister shall be intruded into any parish contrary to the will of the congregation" (see free church of scotland). cases of conflict between the church and the civil power arose in auchterarder, dunkeld and marnoch; and when the courts made it clear that the church, in their opinion, held its temporalities on condition of rendering such obedience as the courts required, the church appealed to the government for relief. in january the government put a final and peremptory negative on the church's claims for spiritual independence. on the th of may clergymen withdrew from the general assembly and constituted themselves the free church of scotland, with dr chalmers as moderator. he had prepared a sustentation fund scheme for the support of the seceding ministers, and this was at once put into successful operation. on the th of may , immediately after his return from the house of commons, where he had given evidence as to the refusal of sites for free churches by scottish landowners, he was found dead in bed. dr chalmers' action throughout the free church controversy was so consistent in its application of christian principle and so free from personal or party animus, that his writings are a valuable source for argument and illustration on the question of establishment. "i have no veneration," he said to the royal commissioners in st andrews, before either the voluntary or the non-intrusive controversies had arisen, "for the church of scotland _qua_ an establishment, but i have the utmost veneration for it _qua_ an instrument of christian good." he was transparent in character, chivalrous, kindly, firm, eloquent and sagacious; his purity of motive and unselfishness commanded absolute confidence; he had originality and initiative in dealing with new and difficult circumstances, and great aptitude for business details. during a life of incessant activity chalmers scarcely ever allowed a day to pass without its modicum of composition; at the most unseasonable times, and in the most unlikely places, he would occupy himself with literary work. his writings occupy more than volumes. he would have stood higher as an author had he written less, or had he indulged less in that practice of reiteration into which he was constantly betrayed by his anxiety to impress his ideas upon others. as a political economist he was the first to unfold the connexion that subsists between the degree of the fertility of the soil and the social condition of a community, the rapid manner in which capital is reproduced (see mill's _political economy_, i. ), and the general doctrine of a limit to all the modes by which national wealth may accumulate. he was the first also to advance that argument in favour of religious establishments which meets upon its own ground the doctrine of adam smith, that religion like other things should be left to the operation of the natural law of supply and demand. in the department of natural theology and the christian evidences he ably advocated that method of reconciling the mosaic narrative with the indefinite antiquity of the globe which william buckland ( - ) advanced in his bridgewater treatise, and which dr chalmers had previously communicated to him. his refutation of hume's objection to the truth of miracles is perhaps his intellectual _chef-d'oeuvre_. the distinction between the laws and dispositions of matter, as between the ethics and objects of theology, he was the first to indicate and enforce, and he laid great emphasis on the superior authority as witnesses for the truth of revelation of the scriptural as compared with the extra-scriptural writers, and of the christian as compared with the non-christian testimonies. in his _institutes of theology_, no material modification is attempted on the doctrines of calvinism, which he received with all simplicity of faith as revealed in the divine word, and defended as in harmony with the most profound philosophy of human nature and of the divine providence. for biographical details see dr w. hanna's _memoirs_ (edinburgh, vols., - ); there is a good short _life_ by mrs oliphant ( ). (w. ha.; d. mn.) chaloner, sir thomas ( - ), english statesman and poet, was the son of roger chaloner, mercer of london, a descendant of the denbighshire chaloners. no details are known of his youth except that he was educated at both oxford and cambridge. in he went, as secretary to sir henry knyvett, to the court of charles v., whom he accompanied in his expedition against algiers in , and was wrecked on the barbary coast. in he joined in the expedition to scotland, and was knighted, after the battle of musselburgh, by the protector somerset, whose patronage he enjoyed. in he was a witness against dr bonner, bishop of london; in against stephen gardiner, bishop of winchester; in the spring of the latter year he was sent as a commissioner to scotland, and again in march . in he went with sir nicholas wotton and sir william pickering on an embassy to france, but was recalled by queen mary on her accession. in spite of his protestant views, chaloner was still employed by the government, going to scotland in - , and providing carriages for troops in the war with france, - . in he went as elizabeth's ambassador to the emperor ferdinand at cambrai, from july to february / he was ambassador to king philip at brussels, and in he went in the same capacity to spain. his letters are full of complaints of his treatment there, but it was not till , when in failing health, that he was allowed to return home. he died at his house in clerkenwell on the th of october . he acquired during his years of service three estates, guisborough in yorkshire, steeple claydon in buckinghamshire, and st bees in cumberland. he married ( ) joan, widow of sir thomas leigh; and ( ) etheldreda, daughter of edward frodsham, of elton, cheshire, by whom he had one son, sir thomas chaloner ( - ), the naturalist. chaloner was the intimate of most of the learned men of his day, and with lord burghley he had a life-long friendship. throughout his busy official life he occupied himself with literature, his latin verses and his pastoral poems being much admired by his contemporaries. chaloner's "howe the lorde mowbray ... was ... banyshed the realme," printed in the edition of william baldwin's _mirror for magistrates_ (repr. in vol. ii. pt. of joseph haslewood's edition of ), has sometimes been attributed to thomas churchyard. his most important work, _de rep. anglorum instauranda libri decem_, written while he was in spain, was first published by william malim ( , pts.), with complimentary latin verses in praise of the author by burghley and others. chaloner's epigrams and epitaphs were also added to the volume, as well as _in laudem henrici octavi ... carmen panegericum_, first printed in . amongst his other works are _the praise of folie, moriae encomium_ ... by erasmus ... englished by sir thomas chaloner, knight ( , ed. janet e. ashbee, ); _a book of the office of servantes_ ( ), translated from gilbert cognatus; and _an homilie of saint john chrysostome_.... englished by t.c. ( ). see "the chaloners, lords of the manor of st bees," by william jackson, in _transactions of the cumberland assoc. for the advancement of literature and science_, pt. vi. pp. - , - . chÂlons-sur-marne, a town of north-eastern france, capital of the department of marne, m. e. of paris on the main line of the eastern railway to nancy, and m. s.s.e. of reims. pop. ( ) , . châlons is situated in a wide level plain principally on the right bank of the marne, its suburb of marne, which contains the railwaystations of the eastern and est-État railways, lying on the left bank. the town proper is bordered on the west by the lateral canal of the marne, across which lies a strip of ground separating it from the river itself. châlons is traversed by branches of the canal and by small streams, and its streets are for the most part narrow and irregular, but it is surrounded by ample avenues and promenades, the park known as the jard, in the south-western quarter, being especially attractive. huge barracks lie to the north and east. there are several interesting churches in the town. the cathedral of st Étienne dates chiefly from the th century, but its west façade is in the classical style and belongs to the th century. there are stained-glass windows of the th century in the north transept. notre-dame, of the th and th centuries, is conspicuous for its four romanesque towers, two flanking the apse; the other two, surmounted by tall lead spires, flanking the principal façade. the churches of st. alpin, st jean and st loup date from various periods between the th and the th centuries. the hôtel-de-ville ( ), facing which stands a monument to president carnot; the prefecture ( - ), once the residence of the intendants of champagne; the college, once a jesuit establishment; and a training college which occupies the augustinian abbey of toussaints ( th and th centuries), are noteworthy civil buildings. the houses of châlons are generally ill-built of timber and plaster, or rough-cast, but some old mansions, dating from the th to the th centuries, remain. the church of ste pudentienne, on the left bank of the river, is a well-known place of pilgrimage. the town is the seat of a bishop and a prefect, and headquarters of the vi. army corps; it has tribunals of first instance and of commerce, a chamber of commerce, a board of trade-arbitrators, a museum, a library, training colleges, a higher ecclesiastical seminary, a communal college and an important technical school. the principal industry is brewing, which is carried on in the suburb of marne. galleries of immense length, hewn in a limestone hill and served by lines of railway, are used as store-houses for beer. the preparation of champagne, the manufacture of boots and shoes, brushes, wire-goods and wall-paper also occupy many hands. there is trade in cereals. châlons-sur-marne occupies the site of the chief town of the catalauni, and some portion of the plains which lie between it and troyes was the scene of the defeat of attila in the conflict of . in the th and following centuries it attained great prosperity as a kind of independent state under the supremacy of its bishops, who were ecclesiastical peers of france. in the militia of châlons served at the battle of bouvines; and in the th century the citizens maintained their honour by twice ( and ) repulsing the english from their walls. in the th century the town sided with henry iv., king of france, who in transferred thither the parlement of paris, which shortly afterwards burnt the bulls of gregory xiv. and clement viii. in napoleon iii. established a large camp, known as the camp of châlons, about m. north of the town by the railway to reims. it was situated in the immediate neighbourhood of grand mourmelon and petit mourmelon, and occupied an area of nearly , acres. the "army of châlons," formed by marshal macmahon in the camp after the first reverses of the french in , marched thence to the meuse, was surrounded by the germans at sedan, and forced to capitulate. the camp is still a training-centre for troops. about m. e. of châlons is l'epine, where there is a beautiful pilgrimage church ( th and th centuries, with modern restoration) with a richly-sculptured portal. in the interior there is a fine choir-screen, an organ of the th century, and an ancient and much-venerated statue of the virgin. chalon-sur-saÔne, a town of east-central france, capital of an arrondissement in the department of saône-et-loire, m. n. of lyons by the paris-lyon railway. pop. ( ) , . it is a well-built town, with fine quays, situated in an extensive plain on the right bank of the saône at its junction with the canal du centre. a handsome stone bridge of the th century, decorated in the th century with obelisks, connects it with the suburb of st laurent on an island in the river. the principal building is the church of st vincent, once the cathedral. it dates mainly from the th to the th centuries, but the façade is modern and unpleasing. the old bishop's palace is a building of the th century. the church of st pierre, with two lofty steeples, dates from the late th century. chalon preserves remains of its ancient ramparts and a number of old houses. the administrative buildings are modern. an obelisk was erected in to commemorate the opening of the canal. there is a statue of j.n. niepce, a native of the town. chalon is the seat of a sub-prefect and a court of assizes, and there are tribunals of first instance and commerce, a branch of the bank of france, a chamber of commerce, communal colleges for boys and girls, a school of drawing, a public library and a museum. chalon ranks next to le creusot among the manufacturing towns of burgundy; its position at the junction of the canal du centre and the saône, and as a railway centre for lyons, paris, dôle, lons-le-saunier and roanne, brings it a large transit trade. the founding and working of copper and iron is its main industry; the large engineering works of petit-creusot, a branch of those of le creusot, construct bridges, tug-boats and torpedo-boats; distilleries, glass-works, chemical works, straw-hat manufactories, oil-works, tile-works and sugar refineries also occupy many hands. wine, grain, iron, leather and timber are among the many products for which the town is an entrepôt. about m. east of chalon is st marcel (named after the saint who in the nd century preached christianity at chalon), which has a church of the th century, once belonging to a famous abbey. chalon-sur-saône is identified with the ancient _cabillonum_, originally an important town of the aedui. it was chosen in the th century by gontram, king of burgundy, as his capital; and it continued till the th to pay for its importance by being frequently sacked. the bishopric, founded in the th century, was suppressed at the revolution. in feudal times chalon was the capital of a countship. in it was given in exchange for other fiefs in the jura by jean le sage, whose descendants nevertheless retained the title. hugh iv., duke of burgundy, the other party to the exchange, gave the citizens a communal charter in . in its modern history the most important event was the resistance offered to a division of the austrian army in . chalukya, the name of an indian dynasty which ruled in the deccan from a.d. to , and again from to . the chalukyas themselves claimed to be rajputs from the north who imposed their rule on the dravidian inhabitants of the deccan tableland, and there is some evidence for connecting them with the chapas, a branch of the foreign gurjaras. the dynasty was founded by a chief named pulakesin i., who mastered the town of vatapi (now badami, in the bijapur district) about . his sons extended their principality east and west; but the founder of the chalukya greatness was his grandson pulakesin ii., who succeeded in and proceeded to extend his rule at the expense of his neighbours. in he established as his viceroy in vengi his brother kubja vishnuvardhana, who in declared his independence and established the dynasty of eastern chalukyas, which lasted till . in pulakesin defeated harsha (q.v.), the powerful overlord of northern india, and established the nerbudda as the boundary between the south and north. he also defeated in turn the chola, pandya and kerala kings, and by was beyond dispute the most powerful sovereign in the deccan. in , however, his capital was taken and he himself killed by the pallava king narasimhavarman. in the chalukya power was restored by pulakesin's son vikramaditya i.; but the struggle with the pallavas continued until, in , vikramaditya ii. destroyed the pallava capital. in vikramaditya's son, kirtivarman chalukya, was overthrown by the rashtrakutas. in , taila or tailapa ii. (d. ), a scion of the royal chalukya race, succeeded in overthrowing the rashtrakuta king kakka ii., and in recovering all the ancient territory of the chalukyas with the exception of gujarat. he was the founder of the dynasty known as the chalukyas of kalyani. about a.d. a formidable invasion by the chola king rajaraja the great was defeated, and in somesvara i., or ahamavalla (d. ), the founder of kalyani, defeated and slew the chola rajadhiraja. the reign of vikramaditya vi., or vikramanka, which lasted from to , formed another period of chalukya greatness. vikramanka's exploits against the hoysala kings and others, celebrated by the poet bilhana, were held to justify him in establishing a new era dating from his accession. with his death, however, the chalukya power began to decline. in the commander-in-chief bijjala (or vijjana) kalachurya revolted, and he and his sons held the kingdom till . in this year somesvara iv. chalukya recovered part of his patrimony, only to succumb, about , to the yadavas of devagiri and the hoysalas of dorasamudra. henceforth the chalukya rajas ranked only as petty chiefs. see j.f. fleet, _dynasties of the kanarese districts_; prof. r.g. bhandarker, "early history of the deccan," in the _bombay gazetteer_ ( ), vol. i. part ii.; vincent a. smith, _early hist. of india_ (oxford, ), pp. ff. chalybÄus, heinrich moritz ( - ), german philosopher, was born at pfaffroda in saxony. for some years he taught at dresden, and won a high reputation by his lectures on the history of philosophy in germany. in he became professor in kiel university, where, with the exception of one brief interval, when he was expelled with several colleagues because of his german sympathies, he remained till his death. his first published work, _historische entwickelung der spekulativen philosophic von kant bis hegel_ ( , th ed. ), which still ranks among the best expositions of modern german thought, has been twice translated into english, by a. tulk (london, ), and by a. edersheim (edinburgh, ). his chief works are _entwurf eines systems der wissenschaftslehre_ (kiel, ) and _system der spekulativen ethik_ ( vols., ). he opposed both the extreme realism of herbart and what he regarded as the one-sided idealism of hegel, and endeavoured to find a mean between them, to discover the ideal or formal principle which unfolds itself in the real or material world presented to it. his _wissenschaftslehre_, accordingly, divides itself into ( ) _principlehre_, or theory of the one principle; ( ) _vermittelungslehre_, or theory of the means by which this principle realizes itself; and ( ) _teleologie_. the most noticeable point is the position assigned by chalybäus to the "world ether," which is defined as the infinite in time and space, and which, he thinks, must be posited as necessarily coexisting with the infinite spirit or god. the fundamental principle of the _system der ethik_ is carried out with great strength of thought, and with an unusually complete command of ethical material. see j.e. erdmann, _grundriss der gesch. d. philos._ ii. - ; k. prantl, in _allgem. deutsch. biog._ chalybite, a mineral species consisting of iron carbonate (feco ) and forming an important ore of iron. it was early known as spathose iron, spathic iron or steel ore. f.s. beudant in gave the name siderose (from [greek: sidêros], iron), which was modified by w. haidinger in to siderite. chalybite (from [greek: chalyps], [greek: chalybos], lat. _chalybs_, steel) is of slightly later date, having been given by e.f. glocker in . the name siderite is in common use, but it is open to objection since it had earlier been applied to several other species, and is also now used as a group name for meteoric irons. chalybite crystallizes in the rhombohedral system and is isomorphous with calcite; like this it possesses perfect cleavages parallel to the faces of the primitive rhombohedron, the angles between which are ° '. crystals are usually rhombohedral in habit, and the primitive rhombohedron r { } is a common form, the faces being often curved as represented in the figure. acute rhombohedra in combination with the basal pinacoid are also frequent, giving crystals of octahedral aspect. the mineral often occurs in cleavable masses with a coarse or fine granular texture; also in botryoidal or globular (sphaerosiderite) and oolitic forms. when compact and mixed with much clay and sand it constitutes the well-known clay ironstone. chalybite is usually yellowish-grey or brown in colour; it is translucent and has a vitreous lustre. hardness ½; sp. gr. . . the double refraction ([omega] - [epsilon] = . ) is stronger than that of calcite. when pure it contains . % of iron, but this is often partly replaced isomorphously by manganese, magnesium or calcium: the varieties known as oligon-spar or oligonite, sideroplesite and siderodote contain these elements respectively in large amount. these varieties form a passage to ankerite (q.v.) and mesitite, and all are referred to loosely as brown-spar. [illustration: crystal of chalybite.] chalybite is a common gangue mineral in metalliferous veins, and well-crystallized specimens are found with ores of copper, lead, tin, &c., in cornwall, the harz, saxony and many other places. it also occurs alone as large masses in veins and beds in rocks of various kinds. the clay ironstone so extensively worked as an ore of iron occurs as nodules and beds in the coal measures of england and the united states, and the oolitic iron ore of the cleveland district in yorkshire forms beds in the lias. the mineral is occasionally found as concretionary masses (sphaerosiderite) in cavities in basic igneous rocks such as dolerite. (l. j. s.) chamba, a native state of india, within the punjab, amid the himalayas, and lying on the southern border of kashmir. it has an area of sq. m. pop. ( ) , . the sanatorium of dalhousie, though within the state, is attached to the district of gurdaspur. chamba is entirely mountainous; in the east and north, and in the centre, are snowy ranges. the valleys in the west and south are fertile. the chief rivers are the chandra and ravi. the country is much in favour with sportsmen. the principal crops are rice, maize and millet. mineral ores of various kinds are known, but unworked. trade is chiefly in forest produce. the capital of the state is chamba (pop. ), situated above the gorge of the ravi. external communications are entirely by road. the state was founded in the th century, and, though sometimes nominally subject to kashmir and afterwards tributary to the mogul empire, always practically maintained its independence. its chronicles are preserved in a series of inscriptions, mostly engraved on copper. it first came under british influence in , when it was declared independent of kashmir. the line of the rajas of chamba was founded in the th century a.d. by marut, of an ancient family of rajputs. in bhuri singh, k.c.s.i., c.i.e., an enlightened and capable ruler, succeeded. chambal, a river of india, one of the principal tributaries of the jumna. rising amid the summits of the vindhya mountains in malwa, it flows north, and after being joined by the chambla and sipra, passes through the gorges of the mokandarra hills. after receiving the waters of the kali-sind, parbati and banas, its principal confluents, the chambal becomes a great river, enters the british district of etawah, and joins the jumna m. below etawah town, its total length being m. chamberlain, joseph ( - ), british statesman, third son of joseph chamberlain, master of the cordwainers' company, was born at camberwell grove, london, on the th of july . his father was a well-to-do man of business, a unitarian in religion and a liberal in politics. young chamberlain was educated at canonbury from to , and at university college school, london, from to . after two years in his father's office in london, he was sent to birmingham to join his cousin joseph nettlefold in a screw business in which his father had an interest; and by degrees, largely owing to his own intelligent management, this business became very successful. nettlefold & chamberlain employed new methods of attracting customers, and judiciously amalgamated rival firms with their own so as to reduce competition, with the result that in , after twenty-two years of commercial life, mr chamberlain was able to retire with an ample fortune. meanwhile he had in married his first wife, miss harriet kenrick (she died in ), and had gradually come to take an increasingly important part in the municipal and political life of birmingham. he was a constant speaker at the birmingham and edgbaston debating society; and when in the birmingham liberal association was reorganized, he became one of its leading members. in he was elected chairman of the executive council of the new national education league, the outcome of mr george dixon's movement for promoting the education of the children of the lower classes by paying their school fees, and agitating for more accommodation and a better national system. in the same year he was elected a member of the town council, and married his second wife--a cousin of his first--miss florence kenrick (d. ). in he was elected a member of the first school board for birmingham; and for the next six years, and especially after , when he became leader of a majority and chairman, he actively championed the nonconformist opposition to denominationalism. he was then regarded as a republican--the term signifying rather that he held advanced radical opinions, which were construed by average men in the light of the current political developments in france, than that he really favoured republican institutions. his programme was "free church, free land, free schools, free labour." at the general election of he stood as a parliamentary candidate for sheffield, but without success. between and he was a prominent advocate in the birmingham town council of the gospel of municipal reform preached by mr dawson, dr dale and mr bunce (of the _birmingham. post_); and in his party obtained a majority, and he was elected mayor, an office he retained until june . as mayor he had to receive the prince and princess of wales on their visit in june , an occasion which excited some curiosity because of his reputation as a republican; but those who looked for an exhibition of bad taste were disappointed, and the behaviour of the radical mayor satisfied the requirements alike of _the times_ and of _punch_. the period of his mayoralty was one of historic importance in the growth of modern birmingham. new municipal buildings were erected, highgate park was opened as a place of recreation, the free library and art gallery were developed. but the great work carried through by mr chamberlain for birmingham was the municipalization of the supply of gas and water, and the improvement scheme by which slums were cleared away and forty acres laid out in new streets and open spaces. the prosperity of modern birmingham dates from and , when these admirably administered reforms were initiated, and by his share in them mr chamberlain became not only one of its most popular citizens but also a man of mark outside. an orator of a business-like, straightforward type, cool and hard-hitting, his spare figure, incisive features and single eye-glass soon made him a favourite subject for the caricaturist; and in later life his aggressive personality, and the peculiarly irritating effect it had on his opponents, made his actions and speeches the object of more controversy than was the lot of any other politician of his time. his hobby for orchid-growing at his house "highbury" near birmingham also became famous. in private life his loyalty to his friends, and his "genius for friendship" (as john morley said) made a curious contrast to his capacity for arousing the bitterest political hostility. it may be added here that the interest taken by him in birmingham remained undiminished during his life, and he was largely instrumental in starting the birmingham university ( ), of which he became chancellor. his connexion with birmingham university was indeed peculiarly appropriate to his character as a man of business; but in spite of his representing a departure among men of the front rank in politics from the "eton and oxford" type, his general culture sometimes surprised those who did not know him. in later life oxford and cambridge gave him their doctors' degrees; and in he was made lord rector of glasgow university (delivering an address on "patriotism" at his installation). in mr dixon resigned his seat in parliament, and mr chamberlain was returned for birmingham in his place unopposed, as john bright's colleague. he made his maiden speech in the house of commons on the th of august , on lord sandon's education bill. at this period, too, he paid much attention to the question of licensing reform, and in he examined the gothenburg system in sweden, and advocated a solution of the problem in england on similar lines. during the new federation of liberal associations which became known as the "caucus" was started under mr chamberlain's influence in birmingham--its secretary, mr schnadhorst, quickly making himself felt as a wire-puller of exceptional ability; and the new organization had a remarkable effect in putting life into the liberal party, which since mr gladstone's retirement in had been much in need of a stimulus. when the general election came in , mr schnadhorst's powers were demonstrated in the successes won under his auspices. the liberal party numbered , against conservatives and irish nationalists; and the radical section of the liberal party, led by mr chamberlain and sir charles dilke, was recognized by mr gladstone by his inclusion of the former in his cabinet as president of the board of trade, and the appointment of the latter as under secretary for foreign affairs. in his new capacity mr chamberlain was responsible for carrying such important measures as the bankruptcy act , and the patents act. another bill which he had much at heart, on merchant shipping, had to be abandoned, and a royal commission substituted, but the subsequent legislation in - owed much to his efforts. the franchise act of was also one in which he took a leading part as a champion of the opinions of the labouring class. at this time he took the current advanced radical views of both irish and foreign policy, hating "coercion," disliking the occupation of egypt, and prominently defending the transvaal settlement after majuba. both before and after the defeat of mr gladstone's government on the budget in june , he associated himself with what was known as the "unauthorized programme," i.e. free education, small holdings, graduated taxation and local government. in june he made a speech at birmingham, treating the reforms just mentioned as the "ransom" that property must pay to society for the security it enjoys--for which lord iddesleigh called him "jack cade"; and he continually urged the liberal party to take up these radical measures. at the general election of november mr chamberlain was returned for west birmingham. the liberal strength generally was, however, reduced to members, though the radical section held their own; and the irish vote became necessary to mr gladstone if he was to command a majority. in december it was stated that mr gladstone intended to propose home rule for ireland, and in january lord salisbury's ministry was defeated on the address, on an amendment moved by mr chamberlain's birmingham henchman, mr jesse collings (b. ), embodying the "three acres and a cow" of the radical programme. unlike lord hartington (afterwards duke of devonshire) and other liberals, who declined to join mr gladstone in view of the altered attitude he was adopting towards ireland, mr chamberlain entered the cabinet as president of the local government board (with mr jesse collings as parliamentary secretary), but on the th of march he resigned, explaining in the house of commons ( th april) that, while he had always been in favour of the largest possible extension of local government to ireland consistently with the integrity of the empire and the supremacy of parliament, and had therefore joined mr gladstone when he believed that this was what was intended, he was unable to consider that the scheme communicated by mr gladstone to his colleagues maintained those limitations. at the same time he was not irreconcilable, and he invited mr gladstone even then to modify his bill so as to remove the objections made to it. this indecisive attitude did not last long, and the split in the party rapidly widened. at birmingham mr chamberlain was supported by the "two thousand," but deserted by the "caucus" and mr schnadhorst. in may the radicals who followed mr bright and mr chamberlain, and the whigs who took their cue from lord hartington, decided to vote against the second reading of the home rule bill, instead of allowing it to be taken and then pressing for modifications in committee, and on th june the bill was defeated by to , liberal unionists--as they were generally called--voting against the government. mr chamberlain was the object of the bitterest attacks from the gladstonians for his share in this result; he was stigmatized as "judas," and open war was proclaimed by the home rulers against the "dissentient liberals"--the description used by mr gladstone. the general election, however, returned to parliament conservatives, liberal unionists, and only gladstonians and nationalists, birmingham returning seven unionist members. when the house met in august, it was decided by the liberal unionists, under lord hartington's leadership, that their policy henceforth was essentially to combine with the tories to keep mr gladstone out. the old liberal feeling still prevailing among them was too strong, however, for their leaders to take office in a coalition ministry. it was enough for them to be able to tie down the conservative government to such measures as were not offensive to liberal unionist principles. it still seemed possible, moreover, that the gladstonians might be brought to modify their home rule proposals, and in january a round table conference (suggested by mr chamberlain) was held between mr chamberlain, sir g. trevelyan, sir william harcourt, mr morley and lord herschell. but no _rapprochement_ was effected, and reconciliation became daily more and more difficult. the influence of liberal unionist views upon the domestic legislation of the government was steadily bringing about a more complete union in the unionist party, and destroying the old lines of political cleavage. before mr chamberlain had the satisfaction of seeing lord salisbury's ministry pass such important acts, from a progressive point of view, as those dealing with coal mines regulation, allotments, county councils, housing of the working classes, free education and agricultural holdings, besides irish legislation like the ashbourne act, the land act of , and the light railways and congested districts acts. in october mr chamberlain, sir l. sackville west and sir charles tupper were selected by the government as british plenipotentiaries to discuss with the united states the canadian fisheries dispute, and a treaty was arranged by them at washington on the th of february . the senate refused to ratify it; but a protocol provided for a _modus vivendi_ pending ratification, giving american fishing vessels similar advantages to those contemplated in the treaty; and on the whole mr chamberlain's mission to america was accepted as a successful one in maintaining satisfactory relations with the united states. he returned to england in march , and was presented with the freedom of the borough of birmingham. the visit also resulted, in november , in his marriage with his third wife, miss endicott, daughter of the united states secretary of war in president cleveland's first administration. at the general election of mr chamberlain was again returned, with an increased majority, for west birmingham; but the unionist party as a whole came back with only members against home rulers. in august lord salisbury's ministry was defeated; and on the th of february mr gladstone introduced his second home rule bill, which was eventually read a third time on the st of september. during the eighty-two days' discussion in the house of commons mr chamberlain was the life and soul of the opposition, and his criticisms had a vital influence upon the attitude of the country when the house of lords summarily threw out the bill. his chief contribution to the discussions during the later stages of the gladstone and rosebery ministries was in connexion with mr asquith's abortive employers' liability bill, when he foreshadowed the method of dealing with this question afterwards carried out in the compensation act of . outside parliament he was busy formulating proposals for old age pensions, which had a prominent place in the unionist programme of . in that year, on the defeat of lord rosebery, the union of the unionists was sealed by the inclusion of the liberal unionist leaders in lord salisbury's ministry; and mr chamberlain became secretary of state for the colonies. there had been much speculation as to what his post would be, and his nomination to the colonial office, then considered one of secondary rank, excited some surprise; but mr chamberlain himself realized how important that department had become. he carried with him into the ministry his close birmingham municipal associates, mr jesse collings (as under secretary of the home office), and mr j. powell-williams ( - ) as financial secretary to the war office. mr chamberlain's influence in the unionist cabinet was soon visible in the workmen's compensation act and other measures. this act, though in sir matthew white ridley's charge as home secretary, was universally and rightly associated with mr chamberlain; and its passage, in the face of much interested opposition from highly-placed, old-fashioned conservatives and capitalists on both sides, was principally due to his determined advocacy. another "social" measure of less importance, which formed part of the chamberlain programme, was the small houses acquisition act of ; but the problem of old age pensions was less easily solved. this subject had been handed over in to a royal commission, and further discussed by a select committee in and a departmental committee in , but both of these threw cold water on the schemes laid before them--a result which, galling enough to one who had made so much play with the question in the country, offered welcome material to his opponents for electioneering recrimination, as year by year went by between and and nothing resulted from all the confident talk on the subject in which mr chamberlain had indulged when out of office. eventually it was the liberal and not the unionist party that carried an old age pensions scheme through parliament, during the session, when mr chamberlain was _hors de combat_. from january (the date of the jameson raid) onwards south africa demanded the chief attention of the colonial secretary (see south africa, and for details transvaal). in his negotiations with president kruger one masterful temperament was pitted against another. mr chamberlain had a very difficult part to play, in a situation dominated by suspicion on both sides, and while he firmly insisted on the rights of great britain and of british subjects in the transvaal, he was the continual object of radical criticism at home. never has a statesman's personality been more bitterly associated by his political opponents with the developments they deplored. attempts were even made to ascribe financial motives to mr chamberlain's actions, and the political atmosphere was thick with suspicion and scandal. the report of the commons committee (july ) definitely acquitted both mr chamberlain and the colonial office of any privity in the jameson raid, but mr chamberlain's detractors continued to assert the contrary. opposition hostility reached such a pitch that in there was hardly an act of the cabinet during the negotiations with president kruger which was not attributed to the personal malignity and unscrupulousness of the colonial secretary. the elections of (when he was again returned, unopposed, for west birmingham) turned upon the individuality of a single minister more than any since the days of mr gladstone's ascendancy, and mr chamberlain, never conspicuous for inclination to turn his other cheek to the smiter, was not slow to return the blows with interest. apart from south africa, his most important work at this time was the successful passing of the australian commonwealth act ( ), in which both tact and firmness were needed to settle certain differences between the imperial government and the colonial delegates. mr chamberlain's tenure of the office of colonial secretary between and must always be regarded as a turning-point in the history of the relations between the british colonies and the mother country. his accession to office was marked by speeches breathing a new spirit of imperial consolidation, embodied either in suggestions for commercial union or in more immediately practicable proposals for improving the "imperial estate"; and at the diamond jubilee of the visits of the colonial premiers to london emphasized and confirmed the new policy, the fruits of which were afterwards seen in the cordial support given by the colonies in the boer war. even in what mr chamberlain called his "radical days" he had never supported the "manchester" view of the value of a colonial empire; and during the gladstone ministry of - mr bright had remarked that the junior member for birmingham was the only jingo in the cabinet--meaning, no doubt, that he objected to the policy of _laissez-faire_ and the timidity of what was afterwards known as "little englandism." while he was still under mr gladstone's influence these opinions were kept in subordination; but mr chamberlain was always an imperial federationist, and from onwards he constantly gave expression to his views on the desirability of drawing the different parts of the empire closer together for purposes of defence and commerce. in the time for the realization of these views had come; and mr chamberlain's speeches, previously remarkable chiefly for debating power and directness of argument, were now dominated by a new note of constructive statesmanship, basing itself on the economic necessities of a world-wide empire. not the least of the anxieties of the colonial office during this period was the situation in the west indies, where the cane-sugar industry was being steadily undermined by the european bounties given to exports of continental beet; and though the government restricted themselves to attempts at removing the bounties by negotiation and to measures for palliating the worst effects in the west indies, mr chamberlain made no secret of his repudiation of the cobden club view that retaliation would be contrary to the doctrines of free trade, and he did his utmost to educate public opinion at home into understanding that the responsibilities of the mother country are not merely to be construed according to the selfish interests of a nation of consumers. as regards foreign affairs, mr chamberlain more than once (and particularly at leicester on th november ) indicated his leanings towards a closer understanding between the british empire, the united states and germany,--a suggestion which did not save him from an extravagant outburst of german hostility during the boer war. the unusually outspoken and pointed expression, however, of his disinclination to submit to muscovite duplicity or to "pin-pricks" or "unmannerliness" from france was criticized on the score of discretion by a wider circle than that of his political adversaries. during the progress of the boer war from to , mr chamberlain, as the statesman who had represented the cabinet in the negotiations which led to it, remained the object of constant attacks from his radical opponents--the "little englanders" and "pro-boers," as he called them--and he was supported by the imperialist and unionist party with at least equal ardour. but as colonial secretary, except in so far as his consistent support of lord milner and his enthusiastic encouragement of colonial assistance were concerned, he naturally played only a subordinate part during the carrying out of the military operations. among domestic statesmen he was felt, however, to be the backbone of the party in power. he was the hero of the one side, just as he was the bugbear of the other. on the th of february he was presented with an address in a gold casket by the city corporation, and entertained at luncheon at the mansion house, an honour not unconnected with the strong feeling recently aroused by his firm reply (at birmingham, january ) to some remarks made by count von büllow, the german chancellor, in the reichstag (january ), reflecting the offensive allegations current in germany against the conduct of the army in south africa. mr chamberlain's speech, in answer to what had been intended as a contemptuous rebuke, was universally applauded. his own imperialism was intensified by the way in which england's difficulties resulted in calling forth colonial assistance and so cementing the bonds of empire. the domestic crisis, and the sharp cleavage between parties at home, had driven the bent of his mind and policy further and further away from the purely municipal and national ideals which he had followed so keenly before he became colonial minister. the problems of empire engrossed him, and a new enthusiasm for imperial projects arose in the unionist party under his inspiration. no english statesman probably has ever been, at different times in his career, so able an advocate of absolutely contradictory policies, and his opponents were not slow to taunt him with quotations from his earlier speeches. as the war drew to its end, new plans for imperial consolidation were maturing in his brain. subsidiary points of utility, such as the formation of the london and liverpool schools of tropical medicine from onwards, were taken up by him with characteristic vigour. but the next step was to prove a critical one indeed for the loyalty of the party which had so far been unanimous in his favour. the settlement after the war was full of difficulties, financial and others, in south africa. when mr arthur balfour succeeded lord salisbury as prime minister in july , mr chamberlain agreed to serve loyally under him, and the friendship between the two leaders was indeed one of the most marked features of the political situation. in november it was arranged that mr chamberlain should go out to south africa, and it was hoped, not without reason, that his personality would effect more good than any ordinary official negotiations. at the time the best results appeared to be secured. he went from place to place in south africa (december -february ); arranged with the leading transvaal financiers that in return for support from the british government in raising a transvaal loan they would guarantee a large proportion of a transvaal debt of £ , , , which should repay the british treasury so much of the cost of the war; and when he returned in march , satisfaction was general in the country over the success of his mission. but meantime two things had happened. he had looked at the empire from the colonial point of view, in a way only possible in a colonial atmosphere; and at home some of his colleagues had gone a long way, behind the scenes, to destroy one of the very factors on which the question of a practical scheme for imperial commercial federation seemed to hinge. in the budget of a duty of a shilling a quarter on imported corn had been reintroduced. this small tax was regarded as only a registration duty. even by free-trade ministers like gladstone it had been left up to untouched, and its removal by robert lowe (lord sherbrooke) had since then been widely regarded as a piece of economic pedantry. its reimposition, officially supported for the sake of necessary revenue in war-time, and cordially welcomed by the unionist party, had justified itself, as they contended, in spite of the criticisms of the opposition (who raised the cry of the "dear loaf"), by proving during the year to have had no general or direct effect on the price of bread. and the more advanced imperialists, as well as the more old-fashioned protectionists (like mr chaplin) who formed an integral body of the conservative party, had looked forward to this tax being converted into a differential one between foreign and colonial corn, so as to introduce a scheme of colonial preference and commercial consolidation between the colonies and the mother country. in south africa--as in any other british colony, since all of them were accustomed to tariffs of a protectionist nature, and the idea of a preference (already started by canada) was fairly popular--mr chamberlain had found this view well established. the agitation in england against the tax had now blown over. the unionist rank and file were committed to its support,--many even advocating its increase to two shillings at least. but mr ritchie, the chancellor of the exchequer, having a surplus in prospect and taxation to take off, carried the cabinet in favour of again remitting this tax on corn. mr chamberlain himself had proposed only to take it off as regards colonial, and not foreign corn,--thus inaugurating a preferential system. but a majority of the cabinet supported mr ritchie. the remission of this tax, after all the conviction with which its restoration had been supported a year before, was very difficult for the party itself to stomach, and on any ground it was a distasteful act, loyally as the party followed their leaders. but to those who had looked to it as providing a lever for a gradual change in the established fiscal system, the _volte-face_ was a bitter blow, and at once there began, though not at first openly, a split between the more rigid free-traders--advocates of cheap food and free imports--and those who desired to use the opportunities of a tariff, of however moderate a kind, for attaining national and imperial and not merely revenue advantages. this idea, which had for some time been floating in mr chamberlain's mind (see especially his speech at birmingham of may , ), now took full possession of it. for the moment he remained in the cabinet, but the seed of dissension was sown. the first public intimation of his views was given in a speech to his constituents at birmingham (may , ), when he outlined a plan for raising more money by a rearranged tariff, partly to obtain a preferential system for the empire and partly to produce funds for social reform at home. on may th in the house of commons he spoke on the same subject, and declared "if you are to give a preference to the colonies, you must put a tax on food." considered in the light of after events, this putting the necessity of food-taxes in the forefront was decidedly injudicious; but imperialist conviction and enthusiasm were more conspicuous than electioneering tact in the launching of mr chamberlain's new scheme. the movement grew quickly, its supporters including a number of the cleverest younger politicians and journalists in the unionist party. the idea of tariff reform--to broaden the basis of taxation, to introduce a preference, and to stimulate home industries and increase employment--took firm root; and the political economists of the party--prof. w. cunningham, prof. w. ashley and prof. w.a.s. hewins, in particular--brought effective criticism to bear on the one-sided "free trade" in vogue. the first demand was for inquiry. the country was still bearing an income-tax of elevenpence in the pound; it appeared that the old sources of revenue were inadequate; and meanwhile the statistics of trade, it was argued, showed that the english free-import system hampered english trade while providing the foreigner with a free market. mr chamberlain and his supporters argued that since certain other countries (germany and the united states), with protective tariffs, had increased their trade in much larger proportion, while english trade had only been maintained by the increased business done with british colonies. a scientific inquiry into the facts was needed. by the opposition, who now found themselves the defenders of conservatism in the established fiscal policy of the country, this whole argument was scouted; but for a time the demand merely for inquiry, and the production of figures, gave no sufficient occasion for dissension among unionists, even when, like sir m. hicks beach, they were convinced free-importers on purely economic grounds; and mr balfour (q.v.), as premier, managed to hold his colleagues and party together by taking the line that particular opinions on economic subjects should not be made a test of party loyalty. the board of trade was set to work to produce fiscal blue-books, and hum-drum politicians who had never shown any genius for figures suddenly blossomed out into arithmeticians of the deepest dye. the tariff reform league was founded in order to further mr chamberlain's policy, holding its inaugural meeting on july st; and it began to take an active part in issuing leaflets and in work at by-elections. discussion proceeded hotly on the merits of a preferential tariff, and on august th a manifesto appeared against it signed by fourteen professors or lecturers on political economy, including mr leonard courtney, professor edgeworth, professor marshall, professor bastable, professor smart, professor j.s. nicholson, professor conner, mr bowley, mr e. cannan and mr l.r. phelps,--men of admitted competence, yet, after all, of no higher authority than the economists supporting mr chamberlain, such as dr cunningham and professor ashley. meanwhile, the death of lord salisbury (august ) removed a weighty figure from the councils of the unionist party. the cabinet met several times at the beginning of september, and the question of their attitude towards the fiscal problem became acute. the public had its first intimation of impending events in the appearance on september th of mr balfour's _economic notes on insular free trade_, which had been previously circulated as a cabinet memorandum. the next day appeared the board of trade fiscal blue-book. and on the th the resignations were announced, not only of the more rigid free-traders in the cabinet, mr ritchie and lord george hamilton, but also of mr chamberlain. letters in cordial terms were published, which had passed between mr chamberlain (september ) and mr balfour (september ). mr chamberlain pointed out that he was committed to a preferential scheme involving new duties on food, and could not remain in the government without prejudice while it was excluded from the party programme; remaining loyal to mr balfour and his general objects, he could best promote this course from outside, and he suggested that the government might confine its policy to the "assertion of our freedom in the case of all commercial relations with foreign countries." mr balfour, while reluctantly admitting the necessity of mr chamberlain's taking a freer hand, expressed his agreement in the desirability of a closer fiscal union with the colonies, but questioned the immediate practicability of any scheme; he was willing to adopt fiscal reform so far as it covered retaliatory duties, but thought that the exclusion of taxation of food from the party programme was in existing circumstances necessary, so long as public opinion was not ripe. at the same time he welcomed the fact that mr chamberlain's son, mr austen chamberlain, was ready to remain a member of the government. mr austen chamberlain (b. ) accordingly became the new chancellor of the exchequer; he was already in the cabinet as postmaster-general, having previously made his mark as civil lord of the admiralty ( - ), and financial secretary to the treasury ( - ). from the turning-point of mr chamberlain's resignation, it is not necessary here to follow in detail the discussions and dissensions in the party as a whole in its relations with the prime minister (see balfour, a.j.). it is sufficient to say that while mr balfour's sympathetic "send off" appeared to indicate his inclination towards mr chamberlain's programme, if only further support could be gained for it, his endeavour to keep the party together, and the violent opposition which gathered against mr chamberlain's scheme, combined to make his real attitude during the next two years decidedly obscure, both sections of the party--free-traders and tariff reformers--being induced from time to time to regard him as on their side. the tariff reform movement itself was now, however, outside the purely official programme, and mr chamberlain (backed by a majority of the unionist members) threw himself with impetuous ardour into a crusade on its behalf, while at the same time supporting mr balfour in parliament, and leaving it to him to decide as to the policy of going to the country when the time should be ripe. in his own words, he went in front of the unionist army as a pioneer, and if his army was attacked he would go back to it; in no conceivable circumstances would he allow himself to be put in any sort of competition, direct or indirect, with mr balfour, his friend and leader, whom he meant to follow (october ). on october th he opened his campaign with a speech at glasgow. analysing the trade statistics as between and , he insisted that british progress involved a relative decline compared with that of protectionist foreign countries like germany and the united states; great britain exported less and less of manufactured goods, and imported more and more; the exports to foreign countries had decreased, and it was only the increased exports to the colonies that maintained the british position. this was the outcome of the working of a one-sided free-trade system. now was the time, and it might soon be lost, for consolidating british trade relations with the colonies. if the mother country and her daughter states did not draw closer, they would inevitably drift apart. a further increase of £ , , a year in the trade with the colonies might be obtained by a preferential tariff, and this meant additional employment at home for , workmen, or subsistence for a population of a far larger number. his positive proposals were: ( ) no tax on raw materials; ( ) a small tax on food other than colonial, e.g. two shillings a quarter on foreign corn but excepting maize, and % on meat and dairy produce excluding bacon; ( ) a % general tariff on imported manufactured goods. to meet any increased cost of living, he proposed to reduce the duties on tea, sugar and other articles of general consumption, and he estimated that his scheme would in no case increase a working-man's expenditure, and in most cases would reduce it. "the colonies," he said, "are prepared to meet us; in return for a very moderate preference, they will give us a substantial advantage in their markets." this speech, delivered with characteristic vigour and imperialistic enthusiasm, was the type of others which followed in quick succession during the year. at greenock next day he emphasized the necessity of retaliating against foreign tariffs--"i never like being hit without striking back." the practice of "dumping" must be fairly met; if foreign goods were brought into england to undersell british manufacturers, either the fair wages clause and the factory acts and the compensation act would have to be repealed, or the workmen would have to take lower wages, or lose their work. "agriculture has been practically destroyed, sugar has gone, silk has gone, iron is threatened, wool is threatened, cotton will go! how long are you going to stand it?" on october th he spoke at newcastle, on the st at tynemouth, on the th at liverpool, insisting that free-trade had never been a working-class measure and that it could not be reconciled with trade-unionism; on november th at birmingham, on the th at cardiff, on the st at newport, and on december th at leeds. in all these speeches he managed to point his argument by application to local industries. in the leeds speech he announced that, with a view to drawing up a scientific model tariff, a non-political commission of representative experts would be appointed under the auspices of the tariff reform league to take evidence from every trade; it included many heads of businesses, and mr charles booth, the eminent student of social and industrial london, with sir robert herbert as chairman, and professor w.a.s. hewins as secretary. the name of "tariff commission," given to this voluntary and unofficial body, was a good deal criticized, but though flouted by the political free-traders it set to work in earnest, and accumulated a mass of evidence as to the real facts of trade, which promised to be invaluable to economic inquirers. on january th, , mr chamberlain ended his series of speeches by a great meeting at the guildhall, in the city of london, the key-note being his exhortation to his audience to "think imperially." all this activity on mr chamberlain's part represented a great physical and intellectual feat on the part of a man now sixty-seven years of age; but his bodily vigour and comparatively youthful appearance were essential features of his personality. nothing like this campaign had been known in the political world since mr gladstone's midlothian days; and it produced a great public impression, stirring up both supporters and opponents. free-trade unionists like lord goschen and lord hugh cecil, and the liberal leaders--for whom mr asquith became the principal spokesman, though lord rosebery's criticisms also had considerable weight--found new matter in mr chamberlain's speeches for their contention that any radical change in the traditional english fiscal policy, established now for sixty years, would only result in evil. the broad fact remained that while mr chamberlain's activity gathered round him the bulk of the unionist members and an enthusiastic band of economic sympathizers, the country as a whole remained apathetic and unconvinced. one reason was the intellectual difficulty of the subject and the double-faced character of all arguments from statistics, which were either incomprehensible or disputable; another was the fact that substantially this was a political movement, and that tariff reform was, after all, only one in a complexity of political issues, most of which during this period were being interpreted by the electorate in a sense hostile to the unionist party. mr chamberlain had relied on his personal influence, which from to had been supreme; but his own resignation, and the course of events, had since made his personality less authoritative, and new interests--such as the opposition to the education act, to the heavy taxation, and to chinese labour in the transvaal, and indignation over the revelations concerned with the war--were monopolizing attention, to the weakening of his hold on the public. the revival in trade, and the production of new statistics which appeared to stultify mr chamberlain's prophecies of progressive decline, enabled the free-trade champions to reassure their audiences as to the very foundation of his case, and to represent the whole tariff reform movement as no less unnecessary than risky. moreover, the split in the unionist party brought the united liberal party in full force into the field, and at last the country began to think that the danger of irish home rule was practically over, and that a liberal majority might be returned to power in safety, with the prospect of providing an alternative government which would assure commercial repose (lord rosebery's phrase), relief from extravagant expenditure, and--as the working-classes were led to believe--a certain amount of labour legislation which the tory leaders would never propose. on the other hand the colonies took a great interest in the new movement, though without putting any such pressure on the home public as mr chamberlain might have expected. at the opening of he was officially invited by mr deakin, the prime minister of the commonwealth, to pay a visit to australia, in order to expound his scheme, being promised an enthusiastic welcome "as the harbinger of commercial reciprocity between the mother country and her colonies." mr chamberlain, however, declined; his work at home was too pressing. from the end of mr chamberlain's series of expository speeches on his scheme of tariff reform, onwards during the various fiscal debates and discussions of , it is unnecessary to follow events in detail. the scheme was now before the country, and mr chamberlain was anxious to take its verdict. time was not on his side at his age, and if he had to be beaten at one election he was anxious to get rid of the other issues which would encumber the popular vote, and to press on to a second when he would be on the attacking side. but he would make no move which would embarrass mr balfour in parliament, and adhered to his promise of loyalty. the result was a long drawn out interval, while the government held on and its supporters became more embittered over their differences. mr chamberlain needed a rest, and was away in italy and egypt from march to may, and again in november. he made three important speeches at welbeck (august ), at luton (october ), and at limehouse (december ), but he had nothing substantial to add to his case, and the party situation continued in all its embarrassments. mr balfour's introduction of his promise (at edinburgh on october ) to convene an imperial conference after the general election if the unionists came back to power, in order to discuss a scheme for fiscal union, represented an academic rather than a practical advance, since the by-elections showed that the unionists were certain to be defeated. the one important new development concerned the liberal-unionist organization. in january some correspondence was published between mr chamberlain and the duke of devonshire, dating from the previous october, as to difficulties arising from the central liberal-unionist organization subsidizing local associations which had adopted the programme of tariff reform. the duke objected to this departure from neutrality, and suggested that it was becoming "impossible with any advantage to maintain under existing circumstances the existence of the liberal-unionist organization." mr chamberlain retorted that this was a matter for a general meeting of delegates to decide; if the duke was outvoted he might resign his presidency; for his own part he was prepared to allow the local associations to be subsidized impartially, so long as they supported the government, but he was not prepared for the violent disruption, which the duke apparently contemplated, of an association so necessary to the success of the unionist cause. the duke was in a difficult position as president of the organization, since most of the local associations supported mr chamberlain, and he replied that the differences between them were vital, and he would not be responsible for dividing the association into sections, but would rather resign. mr chamberlain then called a general meeting on his own responsibility in february, when a new constitution was proposed; and in may, at the annual meeting of the liberal-unionist council, the free-food unionists, being in a minority, retired, and the association was reorganized under mr chamberlain's auspices, lord lansdowne and lord selborne (both of them cabinet ministers) becoming vice-presidents. on july th the reconstituted liberal-unionist organization held a great demonstration in the albert hall, and mr chamberlain's success in ousting the duke of devonshire and the other free-trade members of the old liberal-unionist party, and imposing his own fiscal policy upon the liberal-unionist caucus, was now complete. during the spring and summer of mr chamberlain's more active supporters were in favour of forcing a dissolution by leaving the government in a minority, but he himself preferred to leave matters to take their course, so long as the prime minister was content to be publicly identified with the policy of eventually fighting on tariff reform lines. speaking at the albert hall in july mr chamberlain pushed somewhat further than before his "embrace" of mr balfour; and in the autumn, when foreign affairs no longer dominated the attention of the government, the crisis rapidly came to a head. in reply to mr balfour's appeal for the sinking of differences (newcastle, november ), mr chamberlain insisted at bristol (november ) on the adoption of his fiscal policy; and mr balfour resigned on december . on the ground that he no longer retained the confidence of the party. at the crushing unionist defeat in the general election which followed in january , mr chamberlain was triumphantly returned for west birmingham, and all the divisions of birmingham returned chamberlainite members. amid the wreck of the party--mr balfour and several of his colleagues themselves losing their seats--he had the consolation of knowing that the tariff reformers won the only conspicuous successes of the election. but he had no desire to set himself up as leader in mr balfour's place, and after private negotiations with the ex-prime minister, a common platform was arranged between them, on which mr balfour, for whom a seat was found in the city of london, should continue to lead the remnant of the party. the formula was given in a letter from mr balfour of february th (see balfour, a.j.) which admitted the necessity of making fiscal reform the first plank in the unionist platform, and accepted a general tariff on manufactured goods and a small duty on foreign corn as "not in principle objectionable." it may be left to future historians to attempt a considered judgment on the english tariff reform movement, and on mr chamberlain's responsibility for the unionist _débâcle_ of . but while his enemies taunted him with having twice wrecked his party--first the radical party under mr gladstone, and secondly the unionist party under mr balfour--no well-informed critic doubted his sincerity, or failed to recognize that in leaving the cabinet and embarking on his fiscal campaign he showed real devotion to an idea. in championing the cause of imperial fiscal union, by means involving the abandonment of a system of taxation which had become part of british orthodoxy, he followed the guidance of a profound conviction that the stability of the empire and the very existence of the hegemony of the united kingdom depended upon the conversion of public opinion to a revision of the current economic doctrine. there were doubtless miscalculations at the outset as to the resistance to be encountered. but from the purely party point of view he was entitled to say that he followed the path of loyalty to mr balfour which he had marked out from the moment of his resignation, and that he persistently, refused to be put in competition with him as leader. even in the absence of the new issue, defeat was foredoomed for mr balfour's administration by the ordinary course of political events; and it might fairly be claimed that "chinese slavery," "passive resistance," and labour irritation at the taff vale judgment (see trade unions) were mainly responsible for the unionist collapse. time alone would show whether the system of free imports could be permanently reconciled with british imperial policy or commercial prosperity. it remained the fact that mr chamberlain staked an already established position on his refusal to compromise with his convictions on a question which appeared to him of vital and immediate importance. mr chamberlain's own activity in the political field was cut short in the middle of the session of by a serious attack of gout, which was at first minimized by his friends, but which, it was gradually discovered, had completely crippled him. though encouragement was given to the idea that he might return to the house of commons, where he continued to retain his seat for birmingham, he was quite incapacitated for any public work; and this invalid condition was protracted throughout , and . but he remained in the background as the inspirer and adviser of the tariff reformers. the cause made continuous headway at by-elections, and though the general election of january gave the unionists no majority it saw them returned in much increased strength, which was chiefly due to the support obtained for tariff reform principles. mr chamberlain himself was returned unopposed for west birmingham again. (h. ch.) chamberlain, joshua lawrence ( - ), american soldier and educationalist, was born at brewer, maine, on the th of september . he graduated at bowdoin college in , and at the bangor theological seminary in , and was successively tutor in logic and natural theology ( - ), professor of rhetoric and oratory ( - ), and professor of modern languages ( - ), at bowdoin. in he entered the federal army as lieutenant-colonel of the th maine infantry. his military career was marked by great personal bravery and energy and intrepidity as a leader. he was six times wounded, and participated in all the important battles in the east from antietam onwards, including fredericksburg, chancellorsville, gettysburg, the wilderness, cold harbor, petersburg and five forks. for his conduct at petersburg, where he was severely wounded, he was promoted to be brigadier-general of volunteers. he was breveted major-general of volunteers on the th of march , and led the federal advance in the final operations against general r.e. lee. in he received a congressional medal of honour "for daring heroism and great tenacity in holding his position on the little round top and carrying the advance position on the great round top at the battle of gettysburg." after the war he was again professor of rhetoric and oratory at bowdoin in - , and in - was governor of maine, having been elected as a republican. from to he was president of bowdoin college, and during - was professor of mental and moral philosophy also. appointed in by alonzo garcelon, the retiring governor, to protect the property and institutions of the state until a new governor should be duly qualified, and acting as major-general of the state militia, chamberlain did much to avert possible civil war, at a time of great political excitement and bitter partisan feeling. (see maine: _history_.) in - he was a lecturer on political science and public law at bowdoin, and in became surveyor of customs for the district of portland, maine. he published _maine, her place in history_ ( ), and edited _universities and their sons_ ( vols., ). chamberlain, sir neville bowles ( - ), british field marshal, was the third son of sir henry chamberlain, first baronet, consul-general and chargé d'affaires in brazil, and was born at rio on the th of january . he entered the indian army in , served as a subaltern in the first afghan war ( - ), and was wounded on six occasions. he was attached to the governor-general's bodyguard at the battle of maharajpur, in the gwalior campaign of , was appointed military secretary to the governor of bombay in , and honorary aide-de-camp to the governor-general of india in . he served on the staff throughout the punjab campaign of - , and was given a brevet majority. in he was appointed commandant of the punjab military police, and in military secretary to the punjab government. promoted lieut.-colonel in , he was given the command of the punjab frontier force with rank of brigadier-general, and commanded in several expeditions against the frontier tribes. in the indian mutiny he succeeded colonel chester as adjutant-general of the indian army, and distinguished himself at the siege of delhi, where he was severely wounded. he was rewarded with a brevet-colonelcy, the appointment of a.d.c. to the queen, and the c.b. he was reappointed to the command of the punjab frontier force in , and commanded in the umbeyla campaign ( ), in which he was severely wounded. he was now made major-general for distinguished service and a k.c.b. he was made k.c.s.i. in , lieut.-general in , g.c.s.i. in , g.c.b in , and general in . from to he was commander-in-chief of the madras army, and in was sent on a mission to the amir of afghanistan, whose refusal to allow him to enter the country precipitated the second afghan war. he was for some time acting military member of the council of the governor-general of india. he retired in , was made a field marshal in , and died on the th of february . an excellent biography by g.w. forrest appeared in . chamberlain (o. fr. _chamberlain, chamberlenc_, mod. fr. _chambellan_, from o.h. ger. _chamarling, chamarlinc_, whence also the med. lat. _cambellanus, camerlingus, camerlengus_; ital. _camerlingo_; span, _camerlengo_, compounded of o.h. ger. _chamara, kamara_ [lat. _camera_, "chamber"], and the ger. suffix _-ling_), etymologically, and also to a large extent historically, an officer charged with the superintendence of domestic affairs. such were the chamberlains of monasteries or cathedrals, who had charge of the finances, gave notice of chapter meetings, and provided the materials necessary for the various services. in these cases, as in that of the apostolic chamberlain of the roman see, the title was borrowed from the usage of the courts of the western secular princes. a royal chamberlain is now a court official whose function is in general to attend on the person of the sovereign and to regulate the etiquette of the palace. he is the representative of the medieval _camberlanus, cambellanus_, or _cubicularius_, whose office was modelled on that of the _praefectus sacri cubiculi_ or _cubicularius_ of the roman emperors. but at the outset there was another class of chamberlains, the _camerarii_, i.e. high officials charged with the administration of the royal treasury (_camera_). the _camerarius_ of the carolingian emperors was the equivalent of the _hordere_ or _thesaurarius_ (treasurer) of the anglo-saxon kings; he develops into the _erzkämmerer_ (_archicamerarius_) of the holy roman empire, an office held by the margraves of brandenburg, and the _grand chambrier_ of france, who held his _chamberie_ as a fief. similarly in england after the norman conquest the _hordere_ becomes the chamberlain. this office was of great importance. before the conquest he had been, with the marshal, the principal officer of the king's court; and under the norman sovereigns his functions were manifold. as he had charge of the administration of the royal household, his office was of financial importance, for a portion of the royal revenue was paid, not into the exchequer, but in _camera regis_. in course of time the office became hereditary and titular, but the complexities of the duties necessitated a division of the work, and the office was split up into three: the hereditary and sinecure office of _magister camerarius_ or lord great chamberlain (see lord great chamberlain), the more important domestic office of _camerarius regis_, king's chamberlain or lord chamberlain (see lord chamberlain), and the chamberlains (_camerarii_) of the exchequer, two in number, who were originally representatives of the chamberlain at the exchequer, and afterwards in conjunction with the treasurer presided over that department. in the last of these officials died, when by an act passed forty-four years earlier they disappeared. in france the office of _grand chambrier_ was early overshadowed by the _chamberlains (cubicularii, cambellani_, but sometimes also _camerarii_), officials in close personal attendance on the king, men at first of low rank, but of great and ever-increasing influence. as the office of _grand chambrier_, held by great feudal nobles seldom at court, became more and more honorary, the chamberlains grew in power, in numbers and in rank, until, in the th century, one of them emerges as a great officer of state, the _chambellan de france_ or _grand chambellan_ (also _magister cambellanorum, mestre chamberlenc_), who at times shares with the _grand chambrier_ the revenues derived from certain trades in the city of paris (see _regestum memoralium camerae computorum_, quoted in du cange, s. _cameranus_). the honorary office of _grand chambrier_ survived till the time of henry ii., who was himself the last to hold it before his accession; that of _grand chambellan_, which in its turn soon became purely honorary, survived till the revolution. among the prerogatives of the _grand chambellan_ which survived to the last not the least valued was the right to hand the king his shirt at the ceremonial levée. the offices of _grand chambellan, premier chambellan_, and _chambellan_ were revived by napoleon, continued under the restoration, abolished by louis philippe, and again restored by napoleon iii. in the papal curia the apostolic chamberlain (lat. _camerarius_, ital. _camerlingo_) occupies a very important position. he is at the head of the treasury (_camera thesauraria_) and, in the days of the temporal power, not only administered the papal finances but possessed an extensive civil and criminal jurisdiction. during a vacancy of the holy see he is at the head of the administration of the roman church. the office dates from the th century, when it superseded that of archdeacon of the roman church, and the close personal relations of the _camerarius_ with the pope, together with the fact that he is the official guardian of the ceremonial vestments and treasures, point to the fact that he is also the representative of the former _vestararius_ and _vice-dominus_, whose functions were merged in the new office, of which the idea and title were probably borrowed from the usage of the secular courts of the west (hinschius, _kirchenrecht_, i. , &c.). there are also attached to the papal household (_famiglia pontificia_) a large number of chamberlains whose functions are more or less ornamental. these are divided into several categories: privy chamberlains (_camerieri segreti_), chamberlains, assistant and honorary chamberlains. these are gentlemen of rank and belong to the highest class of the household (_famiglia nobile_). in england the modern representatives of the _cubicularii_ are the gentlemen and grooms of the bed-chamber, in germany the _kammerherr_ (_kämmerer_, from _camerarius_, in bavaria and austria) and _kammerjunker_. the insignia of their office is a gold key attached to their coats behind. many corporations appoint a chamberlain. the most important in england is the chamberlain of the corporation of the city of london, who is treasurer of the corporation, admits persons entitled to the freedom of the city, and, in the chamberlain's court, of which he and the vice-chamberlain are judges, exercises concurrent jurisdiction with the police court in determining disputes between masters and apprentices. formerly nominated by the crown, since he has been elected annually by the liverymen. he has a salary of £ a year. similarly in germany the administration of the finances of a city is called the _kämmerei_ and the official in charge of it the _kämmerer_. see also state, great officers of; household, royal; du cange, _glossarium_, s. "camerarius" and "cambellanus"; père anselme (pierre de guibours), _hist. généalogique et chronologique de la maison royale de france, &c_. ( vols., rd ed., - ); a. luchaire, _manuel des institutions françaises_ (paris, ); w.r. anson, _law and custom of the constitution_ (oxford, ); hinschius, _kirchenrecht_, i. (berlin, ). chamberlayne, william ( - ), english poet, was born in . nothing is known of his history except that he practised as a physician at shaftesbury in dorsetshire, and fought on the royalist side at the second battle of newbury. he died on the th of july . his works are: _pharonnida_ ( ), a verse romance in five books; _love's victory_ ( ), a tragi-comedy, acted under another title in at the theatre royal; _england's jubilee_ ( ), a poem in honour of the restoration. a prose version of _pharonnida_, entitled _eromena_, or the _noble stranger_, appeared in . southey speaks of him as "a poet to whom i am indebted for many hours of delight." _pharonnida_ was reprinted by s.w. singer in , and again in by prof. g. saintsbury in _minor poets of the caroline period_ (vol. i.). the poem is loose in construction, but contains some passages of great beauty. chambers, ephraim (d. ), english encyclopaedist, was born at kendal, westmorland, in the latter part of the th century. he was apprenticed to a globe-maker in london, but having conceived the plan of his cyclopaedia, or _universal dictionary of arts and sciences_, he devoted himself entirely to it. the first edition appeared by subscription in , in two vols. fol., and dedicated to the king (see encyclopaedia). the _encyclopédie_ of diderot and d'alembert owed its inception to a french translation of chambers's work. in addition to the _cyclopaedia_, chambers wrote for the _literary magazine_ ( - ), and translated the _history and memoirs of the royal academy of sciences at paris_ ( ), and the _practice of perspective_ from the french of jean dubreuil. he died on the th of may . chambers, george ( - ), english marine painter, born at whitby, yorkshire, was the son of a seaman, and for several years he pursued his father's calling. while at sea he was in the habit of sketching the different classes of vessels. his master, observing this, gratified him by cancelling his indentures, and thus set him free to follow his natural bent. chambers then apprenticed himself to an old woman who kept a painter's shop in whitby, and began by house-painting. he also took lessons of a drawing-master, and found a ready sale for small and cheap pictures of shipping. coming afterwards to london, he was employed by thomas horner to assist in painting the great panorama of london for the colosseum (the exhibition building in regent's park, demolished towards ), and he next became scene-painter at the pavilion theatre. in he was elected an associate, and in a full member, of the water-colour society. his best works represent naval battles. two of these--the "bombardment of algiers in ," and the "capture of porto bello"--are in greenwich hospital. not long before his death he was introduced to william iv., and his professional prospects brightened; but his constitution, always frail, gave way, and he died on the th of october . a _life_, by john watkins, was published in . chambers, robert ( - ), scottish author and publisher, was born at peebles on the th of july . he was sent to the local schools, and gave evidence of unusual literary taste and ability. a small circulating library in the town, and a copy of the _encyclopaedia britannica_ which his father had purchased, furnished him with stores of reading of which he eagerly availed himself. long afterwards he wrote of his early years--"books, not playthings, filled my hands in childhood. at twelve i was deep, not only in poetry and fiction, but in encyclopaedias." robert had been destined for the church, but this design had to be abandoned for lack of means. the family removed to edinburgh in , and in robert began business as a bookstall-keeper in leith walk. he was then only sixteen, and his whole stock consisted of a few old books belonging to his father. in his elder brother william had begun a similar business, and the two eventually united as partners in the publishing firm of w. & r. chambers. robert chambers showed an enthusiastic interest in the history and antiquities of edinburgh, and found a most congenial task in his _traditions of edinburgh_ ( vols., ), which secured for him the approval and the personal friendship of sir walter scott. a _history of the rebellions in scotland from to _ ( vols., ) and numerous other works followed. in the beginning of william chambers started a weekly publication under the title of _chambers's edinburgh journal_ (known since as _chambers's journal of literature, science and arts_), which speedily attained a large circulation. robert was at first only a contributor. after fourteen numbers had appeared, however, he was associated with his brother as joint-editor, and his collaboration contributed more perhaps than anything else to the success of the _journal_. among the other numerous works of which robert was in whole or in part the author, the _biographical dictionary of eminent scotsmen_ ( vols., glasgow, - ), the _cyclopaedia of english literature_ ( ), the _life and works of robert burns_ ( vols., ), _ancient sea margins_ ( ), the _domestic annals of scotland_ ( vols., - ) and the _book of days_ ( vols., - ) were the most important. _chambers's encyclopaedia_ ( - ), with dr andrew findlater as editor, was carried out under the superintendence of the brothers (see encyclopaedia). the _cyclopaedia of english literature_[ ] contains a series of admirably selected extracts from the best authors of every period, "set in a biographical and critical history of the literature itself." for the _life of burns_ he made diligent and laborious original investigations, gathering many hitherto unrecorded facts from the poet's sister, mrs begg, to whose benefit the whole profits of the work were generously devoted. robert chambers was a scientific geologist, and availed himself of tours in scandinavia and canada for the purpose of geological exploration. the results of his travels were embodied in _tracings of the north of europe_ ( ) and _tracings in iceland and the faroe islands_ ( ). his knowledge of geology was one of the principal grounds on which the authorship of the _vestiges of the natural history of creation_ ( vols., - ) was eventually assigned to him. the book was published anonymously. robert chambers was aware of the storm that would probably be raised at the time by a rational treatment of the subject, and did not wish to involve his firm in the discredit that a charge of heterodoxy would bring with it. the arrangements for publication were made through alexander ireland of manchester, and the secret was so well kept that such different names as those of prince albert and sir charles lyell were coupled with the book. ireland in issued a th edition, with a preface giving an account of its authorship, which there was no longer any reason for concealing. the _book of days_ was chambers's last publication, and perhaps his most elaborate. it was a miscellany of popular antiquities in connexion with the calendar, and it is supposed that his excessive labour in connexion with this book hastened his death, which took place at st andrews on the th of march . two years before, the university of st andrews had conferred upon him the degree of doctor of laws, and he was elected a member of the athenaeum club in london. it is his highest claim to distinction that he did so much to give a healthy tone to the cheap popular literature which has become so important a factor in modern civilization. his brother, william chambers ( - ) was born at peebles, on the th of april . he was the financial genius of the publishing firm. he laid the city of edinburgh under the greatest obligations by his public spirit and munificence. as lord provost he procured the passing in of the improvement act, which led to the reconstruction of a great part of the old town, and at a later date he proposed and carried out, largely at his own expense, the restoration of the noble and then neglected church of st giles, making it in a sense "the westminster abbey of scotland." this service was fitly acknowledged by the offer of a baronetcy, which he did not live to receive, dying on the th of may , three days before the reopening of the church. he was the author of a history of st giles's, of a memoir of himself and his brother ( ), and of many other useful publications. on his death in robert chambers ( - ), son of robert chambers, succeeded as head of the firm, and edited the _journal_ until his death. his eldest son, charles edward stuart chambers (b. ), became editor of the _journal_ and chairman of w. & r. chambers, limited. see also _memoir of robert chambers, with autobiographic reminiscences of william chambers_ ( ), the th ed. of which ( ) has a supplementary chapter; alexander ireland's preface to the th ed. ( ) of the _vestiges of creation_; the _story of a long and busy life_ ( ), by william chambers; and some discriminating appreciation in james payn's _some literary recollections_ ( ), chapter v. the _select writings of robert chambers_ were published in vols. in , and a complete list of the works of the brothers is added to _a catalogue of some of the rarer books ... in the collection of c.e.s. chambers_ (edinburgh, ). footnote: [ ] a new and enlarged edition of this work, edited by david patrick, ll. d., appeared in . chambers, sir william ( - ), british architect, was the grandson of a rich merchant who had financed the armies of charles xii., but was paid in base money, and whose son remained in sweden many years endeavouring to obtain redress. in the latter returned to england and settled at ripon, where william, who was born in stockholm, was educated. at the age of sixteen he became supercargo to the swedish east india company, and voyaging to canton made drawings of chinese architecture, furniture and costume which served as basis for his _designs for chinese buildings_, &c. ( ). two years later he quitted the sea to study architecture seriously, and spent a long time in italy, devoting special attention to the buildings of classical and renaissance architects. he also studied under clérisseau in paris, with whom and with the sculptor wilton he lived at rome. in he returned to england with cipriani and wilton, and married the beautiful daughter of the latter. his first important commission was a villa for lord bessborough at roehampton, but he made his reputation by the grounds he laid out and the buildings he erected at kew between and for augusta, princess dowager of wales. some of them have since been demolished, but the most important, the pagoda, still survives. the publication in a handsome volume of the designs for these buildings assured his position in the profession. he was employed to teach architectural drawing to the prince of wales (george iii.), and gained further professional distinction in by the publication of his _treatise of civil architecture_. he began to exhibit with the society of artists in at spring gardens, and was one of the original members and treasurer of the royal academy when it was established in . in he published his _dissertation on oriental gardening_, which attempted to prove the inferiority of european to chinese landscape gardening. as a furniture designer and internal decorator he is credited with the creation of that "chinese style" which was for a time furiously popular, although thomas chippendale (q.v.) had published designs in that manner at a somewhat earlier date. it is not unreasonable to count the honours as divided, since chippendale unquestionably adapted and altered the chinese shapes in a manner better to fit them for european use. to the rage for every possible form of _chinoiserie_, for which he is chiefly responsible, sir william chambers owed much of his success in life. he became architect to the king and queen, comptroller of his majesty's works, and afterwards surveyor-general. in he was appointed architect of somerset house, his greatest monument, at a salary of £ a year. he also designed town mansions for earl gower at whitehall and lord melbourne in piccadilly, built charlemont house, dublin, and duddingston house near edinburgh. he designed the market house at worcester, was employed by the earl of pembroke at wilton, by the duke of marlborough at blenheim, and by the duke of bedford in bloomsbury. the state coach of george iii., his constant patron, was his work; it is now in the victoria and albert museum. although his practice was mainly classic, he made gothic additions to milton abbey in dorset. sir william chambers achieved considerable distinction as a designer of furniture. in addition to his work in the chinese style and in the contemporary fashions, he was the author of what is probably the most ambitious and monumental piece of furniture ever produced in england. this was a combined bureau, dressing-case, jewel-cabinet and organ, made for charles iv., king of spain, in . these combination pieces were in the taste of the time, and the effort displays astonishing ingenuity and resource. the panels were painted by w. hamilton, r.a., with representations of the four seasons, night and morning, fire and water, juno and ceres, together with representations of the golden fleece and the immaculate conception. the organ, in the domed top, is in a case decorated with ormolu and wedgwood. this remarkable achievement, which possesses much sober elegance, formed part of the loan collection of english furniture at the franco-british exhibition in london in . sir william chambers numbered among his friends dr johnson, goldsmith, sir joshua reynolds, david garrick and dr burney. chambers (the fr. _chambre_, from lat. _camera_, a room), a term used generally of rooms or apartments, but especially in law of the offices of a lawyer or the semi-private rooms in which judges or judicial officers deal with questions of practice and other matters not of sufficient importance to be dealt with in court. it is a matter of doubt at what period the practice of exercising jurisdiction "in chambers" commenced in england; there is no statutory sanction before , though the custom can be traced back to the th century. an act of provided for sittings in chambers between terms, and an act of empowered the sovereign to call upon the judges by warrant to sit in chambers on as many days in vacation as should seem fit, while the law terms act defined the jurisdiction to be exercised at chambers. the judges' chambers act was the first act, however, to lay down proper regulations for chamber work, and the judicature act preserved that jurisdiction and gave power to increase it as might be directed or authorized by rules of court to be thereafter made. (see chancery; king's bench, court of.) chambersburg, a borough and the county-seat of franklin county, pennsylvania, u.s.a., at the confluence of conoco-cheague creek and falling spring, m. s.w. of harrisburg. pop. ( ) ; ( ) , of whom were negroes; ( ) , . it is served by the cumberland valley and the western maryland railways, and is connected by electric lines with greencastle, waynesboro, caledonia, a beautiful park in the pennsylvania timber reservation, on south mountain, m. east of chambersburg, and pen mar, a summer resort, on south mountain, near the boundary line between pennsylvania and maryland. chambersburg is built on an elevated site in the broad and fertile cumberland valley, and commands a fine view of the distant hills and dales. the borough is the seat of chambersburg academy, a preparatory school; penn hall, a school for girls; and wilson college, a presbyterian institution for women, opened in . the wilson college campus, the former estate of col. a. k. mcclure ( - ), a well-known journalist, was laid out by donald g. mitchell ("ik marvel"), who was an enthusiastic landscape gardener. the shops of the cumberland valley railway are at chambersburg, and among the borough's manufactures are milling machinery, boilers, engines, hydraulic presses, steam-hammers, engineering and bridge supplies, hosiery, shoes, gloves, furniture, flour, paper, leather, carriages and agricultural implements; the total value of its factory product in was $ , , . the waterworks and the electric-lighting plant are owned and operated by the municipality. a settlement was founded here in by benjamin chambers, in whose honour the borough was named, and who, immediately after general edward braddock's defeat in , built a stone fort and surrounded it with a stockade for the protection of the community from the indians. chambersburg was laid out in and was incorporated as a borough in . on the th of july chambersburg was occupied by a confederate cavalry force under general mccausland (acting under general jubal a. early's orders), who, upon the refusal of the citizens to pay $ , for immunity, burned a large part of the borough. chambÉry, a city of france, capital of the department of savoie, pleasantly situated in a fertile district, between two hills, on the rivers leysse and albane, m. by rail s.s.w. of geneva. pop. ( ) town, , ; commune, , . the town is irregularly built, and has only two good streets--the place saint-léger and the rue de boigne, the latter being named after general benoît boigne ( - ), who left a fortune of , , francs (accumulated in india) to the town. the principal buildings are the cathedral, dating from the th and th centuries; the hôtel-dieu, founded in ; the castle, a modern building serving as the prefecture, and preserving only a great square tower belonging to the original structure; the palace of justice, the theatre, the barracks, and the covered market, which dates from . several of the squares are adorned with fountains; the old ramparts of the city, destroyed during the french revolution, have been converted into public walks; and various promenades and gardens have been constructed. chambéry is the seat of an archbishop (raised to that dignity from a bishopric in ) and of a superior tribunal. it has also a jesuit college, a royal academical society, a society of agriculture and commerce, a public library with , volumes, a museum (antiquities and paintings), a botanic garden, and many charitable institutions. it manufactures silk-gauze, lace, leather and hats, and has a considerable trade in liqueurs, wine, lead, copper and other articles. overlooking the town on the north is the rocher de lémenc, which derives its name from the _lemincum_ of the romans; and in the vicinity is les charmettes, for some time ( - ) the residence of rousseau. the origin of chambéry is unknown, but its lords are mentioned for the first time in . in it was sold to the count of savoy, thomas i., who bestowed several important privileges on the inhabitants. as capital of the duchy of savoy, it has passed through numerous political vicissitudes. between and it was several times occupied by the french; in it was captured by a franco-spanish army; and in it was occupied by the republican forces, and became the capital of the department of mont blanc. restored to the house of savoy by the treaties of vienna and paris, it was again surrendered to france in . among the famous men whom it has given to france, the most important are vaugelas ( - ), saint-réal ( - ), and the brothers joseph ( - ) and xavier ( - ) de maistre. chambord, henri charles ferdinand marie dieudonnÉ comte de ( - ), the "king henry v." of the french legitimists, was born in paris on the th of september . his father was the duc de berry, the elder son of the comte d'artois (afterwards charles x.); his mother was the princess caroline ferdinande louise of naples. born seven months after the assassination of his father, he was hailed as the "enfant du miracle," and was made the subject of one of lamartine's most famous poems. he was created duc de bordeaux, and in , as the result of a subscription organized by the government, received the château of chambord. he was educated by tutors inspired by detestation of the french revolution and its principles, and from the duc de damas in particular imbibed those ideas of divine right and of devotion to the church to which he always remained true. after the revolution of july, charles x. vainly endeavoured to save the bourbon cause by abdicating in his favour and proclaiming him king under the title of henry v. (august , ). the comte de chambord accompanied his grandfather into exile, and resided successively at holyrood, prague, and görz. in , during an extensive tour through europe, he broke his leg--an accident that resulted in permanent lameness. the death of his grandfather, charles x., in , and of his uncle, the duc d'angoulême, in , left him the last male representative of the elder branch of the bourbon family; and his marriage with the archduchess maria theresa, eldest daughter of the duke of modena (november , ), remained without issue. the title to the throne thus passed to the comte de paris, as representative of the orleans branch of the house of bourbon, and the history of the comte de chambord's life is largely an account of the efforts made to unite the royalist party by effecting a reconciliation between the two princes. though he continued to hold an informal court, both on his travels and at his castle of frohsdorf, near vienna, yet he allowed the revolution of and the _coup d'état_ of to pass without any decisive assertion of his claims. it was the italian war of , with its menace to the pope's independence, that roused him at last to activity. he declared himself ready "to pay with his blood for the triumph of a cause which was that of france, the church, and god himself." making common cause with the church, the royalists now began an active campaign against the empire. on the th of december he addressed a manifesto to general saint-priest, in which he declared the cause of the pope to be that of society and liberty, and held out promises of retrenchment, civil and religious liberty, "and above all honesty." again, on the th of september , after the fall of the empire, he invited frenchmen to accept a government "whose basis was right and whose principle was honesty," and promised to drive the enemy from french soil. these vague phrases, offered as a panacea to a nation fighting for its life, showed conclusively his want of all political genius; they had as little effect on the french as his protest against the bombardment of paris had on the germans. yet fortune favoured him. the elections placed the republican party in a minority in the national assembly; the abrogation of the law of exile against the royal family permitted him to return to his castle of chambord; and it was thence that on the th of july he issued a proclamation, in which for the first time he publicly posed as king, and declared that he would never abandon the white standard of the bourbons, "the flag of henry iv., francis i., and joan of arc," for the tricolour of the revolution. he again quitted france, and answered the attempts to make him renounce his claims in favour of the comte de paris by the declaration (january , ) that he would never abdicate. in the following month he held a great gathering of his adherents at antwerp, which was the cause of serious disturbances. a constitutional programme, signed by some members of the national assembly, was presented for his acceptance, but without result. the fall of thiers in may , however, offered an opportunity to the royalists by which they hastened to profit. the comte de paris and the prince de joinville journeyed to frohsdorf, and were formally reconciled with the head of the family (august ). the royalists were united, the premier (the duc de broglie) an open adherent, the president (macmahon) a benevolent neutral. mm. lucien brun and chesnelong were sent to interview the comte de chambord at salzburg, and obtain the definite assurances that alone were wanting. they returned with the news that he accepted the principles of the french revolution and the tricolour flag. but a letter to chesnelong, dated salzburg, th of october, declared that he had been misunderstood: he would give no guarantees; he would not inaugurate his reign by an act of weakness, nor become "le roi légitime de la révolution." "je suis le pilote nécessaire," he added, "le seul capable de conduire le navire au port, parce que j'ai mission et autorité pour cela." this outspoken adherence to the principle of divine right did credit to his honesty, but it cost him the crown. the duc de broglie carried the septennate, and the republic steadily established itself in popular favour. a last effort was made in the national assembly in june by the duc de la rochefoucauld-bisaccia, who formally moved the restoration of the monarchy. the comte de chambord on the nd of july issued a fresh manifesto, which added nothing to his former declarations. the motion was rejected by to , and on the th of february the assembly definitely adopted the republic as the national form of government. from this time the comte de chambord, though continuing to publish letters on political affairs, made no further effort to regain the throne. he died at frohsdorf on the th of august . see _manifestes et programmes politiques de m. le comte de chambord, - _ ( ), and _correspondance de la famille royale et principalement de mgr. le comte de chambord avec le comte de bouillé_ ( ). of the enormous literature relating to him, mention may be made of _henri v et la monarchie traditionnelle_ ( ), _le comte de chambord étudié dans ses voyages et sa correspondance_ ( ), and _henri de france_, by h. de pène ( ). (h. sy.) chambord, a village of central france, in the department of loir-et-cher, on the left bank of the cosson, m. e. by n. of blois by road. the village stands in the park of chambord, which is enclosed by a wall m. in circumference. the celebrated château (see architecture: _renaissance architecture in france_) forms a parallelogram flanked at the angles by round towers and enclosing a square block of buildings, the façade of which forms the centre of the main front. the profusion of turrets, pinnacles, and dormer windows which decorates the roof of this, the chief portion of the château, constitutes the main feature of the exterior, while in the interior are a well-preserved chapel of the th century and a famous double staircase, the construction of which permits two people to ascend and descend respectively without seeing one another. there are apartments, containing pictures of the th century and souvenirs of the comte de chambord. the château was originally a hunting-box of the counts of blois, the rebuilding of which was begun by francis i. in , and completed under henry ii. it was the residence of several succeeding monarchs, and under louis xiv. considerable alterations were made. in the same reign molière performed _monsieur de pourceaugnac_ and _le bourgeois gentilhomme_ for the first time in the theatre. stanislaus, king of poland, lived at chambord, which was bestowed by his son-in-law, louis xv., upon marshal saxe. it was given by napoleon to marshal berthier, from whose widow it was purchased by subscription in , and presented to the duc de bordeaux, the representative of the older branch of the bourbons, who assumed from it the title of comte de chambord. on his death in it came by bequest into the possession of the family of parma. chambre ardente (fr. "burning chamber"), the term for an extraordinary court of justice in france, mainly held for the trials of heretics. the name is perhaps an allusion to the fact that the proceedings took place in a room from which all daylight was excluded, the only illumination being from torches, or there may be a reference to the severity of the sentences in _ardente_, suggesting the burning of the prisoners at the stake. these courts were originated by the cardinal of lorraine, the first of them meeting in under francis i. the _chambre ardente_ co-operated with an inquisitorial tribunal also established by francis i., the duty of which was to discover cases of heresy and hand them over for final judgment to the _chambre ardente_. the reign of henry ii. of france was particularly infamous for the cruelties perpetrated by this court on the huguenots. the marquise de brinvilliers (q.v.) and her associates were tried in the _chambre ardente_ in . the court was abolished in . see n. weiss, _la chambre ardente_ (paris, ), and f. ravaisson, _archives de la bastille_ (paris, - , vols.). chameleon, the common name of one of the three suborders of lacertilia or lizards. the chief genus is _chamaeleon_, containing most of the fifty to sixty species of the whole group, and with the most extensive range, all through africa and madagascar into arabia, southern india and ceylon. the indian species is _ch. calcaratus_; the dwarf chameleon of south africa is _ch. pumilus_; the giant of the whole tribe, reaching a total length of ft., is _ch. parsoni_ of madagascar. the commonest species in the trade is _ch. vulgaris_ of north africa, introduced into southern andalusia. a few queer genera, with much stunted tail, e.g. _rhampholeon_, in tropical africa and _brookesia_ in madagascar are the most aberrant. the common chameleon is the most typical. the head is raised into a pyramidal crest far beyond the occiput, there is no outer ear, nor a drum-cavity. the limbs are very long and slender, and the digits form stout grasping bundles; on the hand the first three form an inner bundle, opposed to the remaining two; on the foot the inner bundle is formed by the first and second toe, the outer by the other three toes. the tail is prehensile, by being rolled downwards; it is not brittle and cannot be renewed. the eyeballs are large, but the lids are united into one concentric fold, leaving only the small pupil visible. the right and left eyes are incessantly moved separately from each other and literally in every direction, up and down, forwards and straight backwards, producing the most terrible squinting. chameleons alone of all reptiles can focus their eyes upon one spot, and conformably they alone possess a retinal _macula centralis_, or spot of acutest, binocular vision. the tongue has attained an extraordinary development. it is club-shaped, covered with a sticky secretion, and based upon a very narrow root, which is composed of extremely elastic fibres and telescoped over the much elongated, style-shaped, copular piece of the hyoid. the whole apparatus is kept in a contracted state like a spring in a tube. when the spring is released, so to speak, by filling the apparatus with blood and by the play of the hyoid muscles, the heavy thick end shoots out upon the insect prey and is withdrawn by its own elasticity. the whole act is like a flash. an ordinary chameleon can shoot a fly at the distance of fully in., and it can manage even a big sphinx moth. [illustration: left forefoot of _chamaeleon o'shaughenesii_, outer view.] another remarkable feature is their changing of colour. this proverbial power is greatly exaggerated. they cannot assume in succession all the colours of the rainbow, nor are the changes quick. the common chameleon may be said to be greenish grey, changing to grass-green or to dull black, with or without maroon red, or brown, lateral series of patches. at night the same specimen assumes as a rule a more or less uniform pale straw-colour. after it has been watched for several months, when all its possibilities seem exhausted, it will probably surprise us by a totally new combination, for instance, a black garb with many small yellow specks, or green with many black specks. pure red and blue are not in the register of this species, but they are rather the rule upon the dark green ground colour of the south african dwarf chameleon. the changes are partly under control of the will, partly complicated reflex actions, intentionally adaptive to the physical and psychical surroundings. the mechanism is as follows. the cutis contains several kinds of specialized cells in many layers, each filled with minute granules of guanine. the upper cells are the smallest, most densely filled with crystals, and cause the white colour by diffusion of direct light; near the malpighian layer the cells are charged with yellow oil drops; the deeper cells are the largest, tinged light brown, and acting as a turbid medium they cause a blue colour, which, owing to the superimposed yellow drops, reaches our eye as green; provided always that there is an effective screen at the back, and this is formed by large chromatophores which lie at the bottom and send their black pigment half-way up, or on to the top of the layers of guanine and oil containing cells. when all the pigment is shifted towards the surface, as near the epidermis as possible, the creature looks black; when the black pigment is withdrawn into the basal portions of the chromatophores the skin appears yellow. the lungs are very capacious, and end in several narrow blind sacs which extend far down into the body cavity, so that not only the chest but the whole body can be blown up. this happens when the animals hiss and fight, as they often do. but when they know themselves discovered, they make themselves as thin as possible by compressing the chest and belly vertically by means of their peculiarly elongated ribs. the whole body is then put into such a position that it presents only its narrow edge to the enemy, and with the branch of the tree or shrub interposed. they are absolutely arboreal, but they hibernate in the ground. the usual mode of propagation is by eggs, which are oval, numerous, provided with a calcareous shell, and buried in humus, whence they are hatched about four months later. but a few species, e.g. the dwarf chameleon, are viviparous. chameleons are insectivorous. they prefer locusts, grass-hoppers and lepidoptera, but are also fond of flies and mealworms. they are notoriously difficult to keep in good health. they want not only warmth, but sunshine, and they must have water, which they lick up in drops from the edges of wet leaves whenever they have a chance. the silliness of the fable that they live on air is shown by the fact that they usually die in an absolutely emaciated and parched condition after three or four months' starvation. (h. f. g.) in astronomy, "chamaeleon" is a constellation situated near the south pole and surrounded by the constellations of octans, mensa, piscis volans, carina (nauta), musca and apus. in chemistry, "chameleon mineral" is a name applied to the green mass which is obtained when pyrolusite (manganese dioxide) is fused with nitre, since a solution in water assumes a purple tint on exposure to the air; this change is due to the oxidation of the manganate, which is first formed, to a permanganate. chamfer, champfer or chaumfer (fr. _chanfrein_; possibly from lat. _cantus_, corner, and _frangere_, to break), an architectural term; when the edge or arris of any work is cut off at an angle of ° in a small degree, it is said to be "chamfered," while it would be "canted" if on a large scale. the chamfer is much used in medieval work, and is sometimes plain, sometimes hollowed out and sometimes moulded. chamfers are sometimes "stopped" by a bead or some moulding, but when cut short by a slope they are generally known as "stop chamfer." chamfort, sebastien roch nicolas ( - ), french man of letters, was born at a little village near clermont in auvergne in . he was, according to a baptismal certificate found among his papers, the son of a grocer named nicolas. a journey to paris resulted in the boy's obtaining a bursary at the collège des grassins. he worked hard, although he wrote later in one of his most contemptuous epigrams--_"ce que j'ai appris je ne le sais plus; le peu que je sais je l'ai diviné."_ his college career ended, chamfort assumed the dress of a _petit abbé. "c'est un costume, et non point un état,"_ he said; and to the principal of his college who promised him a benefice, he replied that he would never be a priest, inasmuch as he preferred honour to honours--_"j'aime l'honneur et non les honneurs."_ about this time he assumed the name of chamfort. for some time he contrived to exist by teaching and as a booksellers' hack. his good looks and ready wit, however, soon brought him into notice; but though endowed with immense strength--"hercule sous la figure d'adonis," madame de craon called him--he lived so hard that he was glad of the chance of doing a "cure" at spa when the belgian minister in paris, m. van eyck, took him with him to germany in . on his return to paris he produced a comedy, _la jeune indienne_ ( ), which was performed with some success, and this was followed by a series of "epistles" in verse, essays and odes. it was not, however, until , when he won the prize of the french academy for his _Éloge_ on molière, that his literary reputation was established. meanwhile he had lived from hand to mouth, mainly on the hospitality of people who were only too glad to give him board and lodging in exchange for the pleasure of the conversation for which he was famous. thus madame helvétius entertained him at sèvres for some years. in another comedy, _le marchand de smyrne_, brought him still further into notice, and he seemed on the road to fortune, when he was suddenly smitten with a horrible disease. his distress was relieved by the generosity of a friend, who made over to him a pension of livres charged on the _mercure de france_. with this assistance he was able to go to the baths of contrexéville and to spend some time in the country, where he wrote an _Éloge_ on la fontaine which won the prize of the academy of marseilles ( ). in , while taking the waters at barèges, he met the duchesse de grammont, sister of choiseul, through whose influence he was introduced at court. in his poor tragedy, _mustapha et zeangir_, was played at fontainebleau before louis xvi. and marie antoinette; the king gave him a further pension of livres, and the prince de condé made him his secretary. but he was a bohemian naturally and by habit, the restraints of the court irked him, and with increasing years he was growing misanthropical. after a year he resigned his post in the prince's household and retired into solitude at auteuil. there, comparing the authors of old with the men of his own time, he uttered the famous _mot_ that proclaims the superiority of the dead over the living as companions; and there too he presently fell in love. the lady, attached to the household of the duchesse du maine, was forty-eight years old, but clever, amusing, a woman of the world; and chamfort married her. they left auteuil, and went to vaucouleurs, where in six months madame chamfort died. chamfort lived in holland for a time with m. de narbonne, and returning to paris received in the place at the academy left vacant by the death of la curne de sainte-palaye, the author of the _dictionnaire des antiquités françaises_. in , through the influence of calonne, he became secretary to the king's sister, madame elizabeth, and in he received a pension of livres from the royal treasury. he was thus once more attached to the court, and made himself friends in spite of the reach and tendency of his unalterable irony; but he quitted it for ever after an unfortunate and mysterious love affair, and was received into the house of m. de vaudreuil. here in he had met mirabeau, with whom he remained to the last on terms of intimate friendship. whom he assisted with money and influence, and one at least of whose speeches--that on the academies--he wrote. the outbreak of the revolution made a profound change in the relations of chamfort's life. theoretically he had long been a republican, and he now threw himself into the new movement with almost fanatical ardour, devoting all his small fortune to the revolutionary propaganda. his old friends of the court he forgot. "those who pass the river of revolutions," he said, "have passed the river of oblivion." until the st of august he was secretary of the jacobin club; he became a street orator and entered the bastille among the first of the storming party. he worked for the _mercure de france_, collaborated with ginguené in the _feuille villageoise_, and drew up for talleyrand his _adresse au peuple français_. with the reign of marat and robespierre, however, his uncompromising jacobinism grew critical, and with the fall of the girondins his political life came to an end. but he could not restrain the tongue that had made him famous; he no more spared the convention than he had spared the court. his notorious republicanism failed to excuse the sarcasms he lavished on the new order of things, and denounced by an assistant in the bibliothèque nationale, to a share in the direction of which he had been appointed by roland, he was taken to the madelonnettes. released for a moment, he was threatened again with arrest; but he had determined to prefer death to a repetition of the moral and physical restraint to which he had been subjected. he attempted suicide with pistol and with poniard; and, horribly hacked and shattered, dictated to those who came to arrest him the well-known declaration--_"moi, sebastien-roch-nicolas chamfort, déclare avoir voulu mourir en homme libre plutôt que d'être reconduit en esclave dans une maison d'arrêt"_--which he signed in a firm hand and in his own blood. he did not die at once, but lingered on until the th of april in charge of a gendarme, for whose wardship he paid a crown a day. to the abbé sieyès chamfort had given fortune in the title of a pamphlet ("_qu'est-ce que le tiers-État? tout. qu'a-t-il? rien_"), and to sieyès did chamfort retail his supreme sarcasm, the famous "_je m'en vais enfin de ce monde où il faut que le coeur se brise ou se bronze._" the maker of constitutions followed the dead wit to the grave. the writings of chamfort, which include comedies, political articles, literary criticisms, portraits, letters, and verses, are colourless and uninteresting in the extreme. as a talker, however, he was of extraordinary force. his _maximes et pensées_, highly praised by john stuart mill, are, after those of la rochefoucauld, the most brilliant and suggestive sayings that have been given to the modern world. the aphorisms of chamfort, less systematic and psychologically less important than those of la rochefoucauld, are as significant in their violence and iconoclastic spirit of the period of storm and preparation that gave them birth as the _réflexions_ in their exquisite restraint and elaborate subtlety are characteristic of the tranquil elegance of their epoch; and they have the advantage in richness of colour, in picturesqueness of phrase, in passion, in audacity. sainte-beuve compares them to "well-minted coins that retain their value," and to keen arrows that "_arrivent brusquement et sifflent encore._" an edition of his works--_oeuvres complètes de nicolas chamfort_--was published at paris in five volumes in - . selections--_oeuvres de chamfort_--in one volume, appeared in , with a biographical and critical preface by arsène houssaye, reprinted from the _revue des deux mondes_; and _oeuvres choisies_ ( vols.), with a preface and notes by m. de lescure ( ). see also sainte-beuve, _causeries du lundi_. chamier, frederick ( - ), english novelist, was the son of an anglo-indian official. in he entered the navy, and was in active service until . he retired in , and was promoted to be captain in . on his retirement he settled near waltham abbey, and wrote several nautical novels on the lines popularized by marryat, that had considerable success. these were _the life of a sailor_ ( ), _ben brace_ ( ), _the arethusa_ ( ), _jack adams_ ( ), _tom bowling_ ( ) and _jack malcolm's log_ ( ). he wrote a number of other books, and edited and brought down to james's _naval history_ ( ). chamillart, michel ( - ), french statesman, minister of louis xiv., was born at paris of a family of the noblesse of recent elevation. following the usual career of a statesman of his time he became in turn councillor of the parlement of paris ( ), master of requests ( ), and intendant of the generality of rouen (january ). affable, of polished manners, modest and honest, chamillart won the confidence of madame de maintenon and pleased the king. in he was made intendant of finances, and on the th of september the king appointed him controller-general of finances, to which he added on the following th of january the ministry of war. from the first chamillart's position was a difficult one. the deficit amounted to more than million livres, and the credit of the state was almost exhausted. he lacked the great intelligence and energy necessary for the situation, and was unable to moderate the king's warlike tastes, or to inaugurate economic reforms. he could only employ the usual expedients of the time--the immoderate sale of offices, the debasement of the coinage (five times in six years), reduction of the rate of interest on state debts, and increased taxation. he attempted to force into circulation a kind of paper money, _billets de monnaie_, but with disastrous results owing to the state of credit. he studied vauban's project for the royal tithe and boisguillebert's proposition for the _taille_, but did not adopt them. in october he showed the king that the debts immediately due amounted to millions, and that the deficit already foreseen for was millions. in october he saw with consternation that the revenue for was already entirely eaten up by anticipation, so that neither money nor credit remained for . in these conditions chamillart, who had often complained of the overwhelming burden he was carrying, and who had already wished to retire in , resigned his office of controller-general. public opinion attributed to him the ruin of the country, though he had tried in to improve the condition of commerce by the creation of a council of commerce. as secretary of state for war he had to place in the field the army for the war of the spanish succession, and to reorganize it three times, after the great defeats of , and . with an empty treasury he succeeded only in part, and he frankly warned the king that the enemy would soon be able to dictate the terms of peace. he was reproached with having secured the command of the army which besieged turin ( ) for his son-in-law, the incapable duc de la feuillade. madame de maintenon even became hostile to him, and he abandoned his position on the th of june , retiring to his estates. he died on the th of april . chamillart's papers have been published by g. esnault, _michel chamillart, contrôleur général et secrétaire d'état de la guerre, correspondance et papiers inédits_ ( vols., paris, ); and by a. de boislisle in vol. of his _correspondance des contrôleurs généraux_ ( ). see d'auvigny, _vies des hommes illustres_ ( ), tome vi. pp. - ; e. moret, _quinze années du règne de louis xiv_ (paris, ); and the new edition of the _mémoires de st-simon_, by a. de boislisle. chaminade, cÉcile ( - ), french musical composer, was born at paris on the th of august . she studied in paris, her musical talent being shown at the age of eight by the writing of some church music which attracted bizet's attention; and at eighteen she came out in public as a pianist. her own compositions, both songs (in large numbers) and instrumental pieces, were soon produced in profusion: melodious and interesting, and often charming, they became very popular, without being entitled to rank with the greater style of music. both in paris and in england mlle chaminade and her works became well known at the principal concerts. in she visited america and was warmly welcomed. chamisso, adelbert von [louis charles adelaide de] ( - ), german poet and botanist, was born at the château of boncourt in champagne, france, the ancestral seat of his family, on the th of january . driven from france by the revolution, his parents settled in berlin, where in young chamisso obtained the post of page-in-waiting to the queen, and in entered a prussian infantry regiment as ensign. his family were shortly afterwards permitted to return to france; he, however, remained behind and continued his career in the army. he had but little education, but now sought distraction from the soulless routine of the prussian military service in assiduous study. in collaboration with varnhagen von ense, he founded in the _berliner musenalmanach_, in which his first verses appeared. the enterprise was a failure, and, interrupted by the war, it came to an end in . it brought him, however, to the notice of many of the literary celebrities of the day and established his reputation as a rising poet. he had become lieutenant in , and in accompanied his regiment to hameln, where he shared in the humiliations following the treasonable capitulation of that fortress in the ensuing year. placed on parole he went to france, where he found that both his parents were dead; and, returning to berlin in the autumn of , he obtained his release from the service early in the following year. homeless and without a profession, disillusioned and despondent, he lived in berlin until , when, through the services of an old friend of the family, he was offered a professorship at the _lycée_ at napoléonville in la vendée. he set out to take up the post, but drawn into the charmed circle of madame de staël, followed her in her exile to coppet in switzerland, where, devoting himself to botanical research, he remained nearly two years. in he returned to berlin, where he continued his scientific studies. in the summer of the eventful year, , he wrote the prose narrative _peter schlemihl_, the man who sold his shadow. this, the most famous of all his works, has been translated into most european languages (english by w. howitt). it was written partly to divert his own thoughts and partly to amuse the children of his friend hitzig. in chamisso was appointed botanist to the russian ship "rurik," which otto von kotzebue (son of august von kotzebue) commanded on a scientific voyage round the world. his diary of the expedition (_tagebuch_, ) affords some interesting glimpses of england and english life. on his return in he was made custodian of the botanical gardens in berlin, and was elected a member of the academy of sciences, and in he married. chamisso's travels and scientific researches restrained for a while the full development of his poetical talent, and it was not until his forty-eighth year that he turned again to literature. in , in collaboration with gustav schwab, and from in conjunction with franz von gaudy, he brought out the _deutsche musenalmanach_, in which his later poems were mainly published. he died on the st of august . as a scientist chamisso has not left much mark, although his _bemerkungen und ansichten_, published in an incomplete form in o. von kotzebue's _entdeckungsreise_ (weimar, ) and more completely in chamisso's _gesammelte werke_ ( ), and the botanical work, _Übersicht der nutzbarsten und schädlichsten gewächse in norddeutschland_ ( ) are esteemed for their careful treatment of the subjects with which they deal. as a poet chamisso's reputation stands high, _frauen liebe und leben_ ( ), a cycle of lyrical poems, which was set to music by schumann, being particularly famous. noteworthy are also _schloss boncourt_ and _salas y gomez_. in estimating his success as a writer, it should not be forgotten that he was cut off from his native speech and from his natural current of thought and feeling. he often deals with gloomy and sometimes with ghastly and repulsive subjects; and even in his lighter and gayer productions there is an undertone of sadness or of satire. in the lyrical expression of the domestic emotions he displays a fine felicity, and he knew how to treat with true feeling a tale of love or vengeance. _die löwenbraut_ may be taken as a sample of his weird and powerful simplicity; and _vergeltung_ is remarkable for a pitiless precision of treatment. the first collected edition of chamisso's works was edited by j.e. hitzig, vols. ( ); th edition ( ); there are also excellent editions by m. koch ( ) and o.f. walzel ( ). on chamisso's life see j.e. hitzig, "leben und briefe von adelbert yon chamisso" (in the _gesammelte werke_); k. fulda, _chamisso und seine zeit_ ( ); g. hofmeister, _adelbert von chamisso_ ( ); and, for the scientific side of chamisso's life, e. du bois-raymond, _adelbert von chamisso als naturforscher_ ( ). chamkanni, a small pathan tribe on the kohat border of the north-west province of india. they inhabit the western part of the kurmana valley in the orakzai portion of tirah, but are supposed to be a distinct race. they took part in the frontier risings of , and during the tirah expedition of that year a brigade under general gaselee was sent to punish them. chamois, the franco-swiss name of an alpine ruminant known in the german cantons as _gemse_, and to naturalists as _rupicapra tragus_ or _r. rupicapra tragus_. it is the only species of its genus, and typifies a subfamily, _rupicaprinae_, of hollow-horned ruminants in some degree intermediate between antelopes and goats (see antelope). about equal in height to a roebuck, and with a short black tail, the chamois is readily distinguishable from all other ruminants by its vertical, backwardly-hooked, black horns, which are common to males and females, although smaller in the latter. apart from black and white face-markings, and the black tail and dorsal stripe, the prevailing colour of the alpine chamois is chestnut brown in summer, but lighter and greyer in winter. in the pyrenees the species is represented by a small race locally known as the izard; a very brightly-coloured form, _r.t. picta_, inhabits the apennines; the carpathian chamois is very dark-coloured, and the one from the caucasus is the representative of yet another race. a thick under-fur is developed in the winter-coat, as in all other ruminants dwelling at high altitudes. chamois are gregarious, living in herds of or , and feeding generally in the morning or evening. the old males, however, live alone except in the rutting season, which occurs in october, when they join the herds, driving off the younger bucks, and engaging in fierce contests with each other, that often end fatally for one at least of the combatants. the period of gestation is twenty weeks, when the female, beneath the shelter generally of a projecting rock, produces one and sometimes two young. in summer they ascend to the limits of perpetual snow, being only exceeded in the loftiness of their haunts by the ibex; and during that season they show their intolerance of heat by choosing such browsing-grounds as have a northern exposure. in winter they descend to the wooded districts that immediately succeed the region of glaciers, and it is there only they can be successfully hunted. chamois are exceedingly shy; and their senses, especially those of sight and smell, very acute. the herd never feeds without having a sentinel posted on some prominence to give notice of the approach of danger; which is done by stamping on the ground with the forefeet, and uttering a shrill whistling note, thus putting the entire herd on the alert. no sooner is the object of alarm scented or seen than each one seeks safety in the most inaccessible situations, which are often reached by a series of astounding leaps over crevasses, up the faces of seemingly perpendicular rocks, or down the sides of equally precipitous chasms. the chamois will not hesitate, it is said, thus to leap down or even ft., and this it effects with apparent ease by throwing itself forward diagonally and striking its feet several times in its descent against the face of the rock. chamois-shooting is most successfully pursued when a number of hunters form a circle round a favourite feeding ground, which they gradually narrow; the animals, scenting the hunters to windward, fly in the opposite direction, only to encounter those coming from leeward. chamois-hunting, in spite of, or perhaps owing to the great danger attending it, has always been a favourite pursuit among the hardy mountaineers of switzerland and tirol, as well as of the amateur sportsmen of all countries, with the result that the animal is now comparatively rare in many districts where it was formerly common. chamois feed in summer on mountain-herbs and flowers, and in winter chiefly on the young shoots and buds of fir and pine trees. they are particularly fond of salt, and in the alps sandstone rocks containing a saline impregnation are often met with hollowed by the constant licking of these creatures. the skin of the chamois is very soft; made into leather it was the original _shammy_, which is now made, however, from the skins of many other animals. the flesh is prized as venison. (r. l.*) chamomile, or camomile flowers, the _flores anthemidis_ of the british pharmacopoeia, the flower-heads of _anthemis nobilis_ (nat. ord. _compositae_), a herb indigenous to england and western europe. it is cultivated for medicinal purposes in surrey, at several places in saxony, and in france and belgium,--that grown in england being much more valuable than any of the foreign chamomiles brought into the market. in the wild plant the florets of the ray are ligulate and white, and contain pistils only, those of the disk being tubular and yellow; but under cultivation the whole of the florets tend to become ligulate and white, in which state the flower-heads are said to be double. the flower-heads have a warm aromatic odour, which is characteristic of the entire plant, and a very bitter taste. in addition to a bitter extractive principle, they yield about % of a volatile liquid, which on its first extraction is of a pale blue colour, but becomes a yellowish brown on exposure to light. it has the characteristic odour of the flowers, and consists of a mixture of butyl and amyl angelates and valerates. angelate of potassium has been obtained by treatment of the oil with caustic potash, and angelic acid may be isolated from this by treatment with dilute sulphuric acid. chamomile is used in medicine in the form of its volatile oil, of which the dose is ½- minims. there is an official extract which is never used. like all volatile oils the drug is a stomachic and carminative. in large doses the infusion is a simple emetic. wild chamomile is _matricaria chamomilla_, a weed common in waste and cultivated ground especially in the southern counties of england. it has somewhat the appearance of true chamomile, but a fainter scent. chamonix, a mountain valley in south-east france, its chief village, of the same name, being the capital of a canton of the arrondissement of bonneville in the department of haute-savoie. the valley runs from n.e. to s.w., and is watered by the arve, which rises in the mer de glace. on the s.e. towers the snowclad chain of mont blanc, and on the n.w. the less lofty, but rugged chain of the brévent and of the aiguilles rouges. near the head of the valley is the village of argentière ( ft.), which is connected with switzerland by "char" (light carriage) roads over the tête noire and past salvan, and by a mule path over the col de balme, which joins the tête noire route near trient and then crosses by a "char" road the col de la forclaz to martigny in the rhone valley. the principal village, chamonix ( ft.), is m. below argentière by electric railway (which continues via finhaut to martigny) and is visited annually by a host of tourists, as it is the best starting-point for the exploration of the glaciers of the mont blanc chain, as well as for the ascent of mont blanc itself. it is connected with geneva by a railway ( m.). in the population of the village was , of the commune . the valley is first heard of about , when it was granted by the count of the genevois to the great benedictine house of st michel de la cluse, near turin, which by the early th century established a priory therein. but in the inhabitants bought their freedom from the canons of sallanches, to whom the priory had been transferred in . in the inhabitants obtained from the count of the genevois the privilege of holding two fairs a year, while the valley was often visited by the civil officials and by the bishops of geneva (first recorded visit in , while st francis de sales came thither in ). but travellers for pleasure were long rare. the first party to publish ( ) an account of their visit was that of dr r. pococke, mr w. windham and other englishmen who visited the mer de glace in . in came p. martel and several other genevese, in h.b. de saussure, and rather later bourrit. see j.a. bonnefoy and a. perrin, _le prieuré de chamonix_ ( vols., chambery, and ); a. perrin, _histoire de la vallée et du prieuré de chamonix_ (chambéry, ); l. kurz and x. imfeld, _carte de la chaîne du mont blanc_ ( ; new ed., ); l. kurz, _climbers' guide to the chain of mont blanc_ (london, ); also works referred to under blanc, mont. (w. a. b. c.) champagne, an ancient province of the kingdom of france, bounded n. by liége and luxemburg; e. by lorraine; s. by burgundy; and w. by picardy and isle de france. it now forms the departments of ardennes, marne, aube and haute marne, with part of aisne, seine-et-marne, yonne and meuse. its name--in latin campania, "country of plains"--is derived from the immense plains near reims, châlons and troyes. it was constituted towards the end of the middle ages by joining to the countship of champagne the ecclesiastical duchies of reims and langres, together with the ecclesiastical countship of châlons. documents of the th and th centuries make it possible to determine the territorial configuration of the countship of champagne with greater accuracy than in the case of any other fief of the crown of france. formed at random by the acquisitions of the counts of the houses of vermandois and blois, champagne reckoned among its dependencies, from to , the countship of blois and chartres, of which touraine was a fief, the countship of sancerre, and various scattered fiefs in the bourbonnais and in burgundy. officially called the "countship of champagne and brie" since , this state was formed by the union of the countships of troyes and meaux, to which the greater part of the districts embraced in the country known, since the beginning of the middle ages, by the name of champagne and brie came in course of time to be attached. placed under the authority of a single count in , the countships of troyes and meaux were not again separated after . for the counts of troyes before the th century see troyes. we confine ourselves here to the counts of champagne of the house of blois. about eudes or odo i. (odo ii., count of blois) became count of champagne. he disputed the kingdom of burgundy with the emperor conrad, and died in , in a battle near bar-le-duc. in he was succeeded by his younger son, stephen ii. about odo ii., son of stephen ii., became count. this prince, guilty of murder, found refuge in normandy, where he received the castle of aumale. he took part in in the conquest of england, and became earl of holderness. about theobald (thibaud) i., count of blois and meaux, eldest son of odo i., became count of champagne. in he seized the countships of vitry and bar-sur-aube, left vacant by simon of valois, who had retired to a monastery. in odo iii., second son of theobald ii., became count, and was succeeded about by his younger brother, hugh, who became a templar in , and gave up the countship to his suzerain, the count of blois. in the countship of champagne passed to theobald ii. the great, already count of blois and meaux, and one of the most powerful french barons of his time. he was related to the royal house of england, and incurred the displeasure of the king of france, who in invaded champagne and burnt the town of vitry. after theobald the great the countship of blois ceased to be the dominant fief of his house and became the appanage of a younger branch. in henry the liberal, eldest son of theobald ii., became count of champagne; he married mary, daughter of louis vii. of france, and went to the crusade in . he was taken prisoner by the turks, recovered his liberty through the good offices of the emperor of the east, and died a few days after his return to champagne. in his eldest son, henry ii., succeeded him under the tutelage of mary of france. in he went to the holy land, and became king of jerusalem in by his marriage with isabelle, widow of the marquis of montferrat. he died in in his town of acre from the results of an accident. in theobald iii., younger son of henry i., became count, and was succeeded in by theobald iv., "le chansonnier" (the singer), who was the son of theobald iii. and blanche of navarre, and was born some days after the death of his father. from to he remained under the tutelage of his mother, who governed champagne with great sagacity. the reign of this prince was singularly eventful. the two daughters of count henry ii. successively claimed the countship, so that theobald had to combat the claims of philippa, wife of erard of brienne, seigneur of rameru, from to , and those of alix, queen dowager of cyprus, in and . in he followed king louis vii. to the siege of avignon, and after the death of that monarch played a prominent part during the reign of st louis. at first leagued with the malcontent barons, he allowed himself to be gained over by the queen-mother, and thus came into collision with his old allies. he became king of navarre in by the death of his maternal uncle, sancho vii. but by the onerous treaty which he concluded in that year with the queen of cyprus he was compelled to cede to the king, in return for a large sum of money, the overlordship of the countships of blois, chartres and sancerre, and the viscounty of châteaudun. in and he took part in an expedition to the holy land, probably accompanied st louis in in the campaign of saintonge against the english, and died on the th of july at pampeluna. if the author of the _grandes chroniques de france_ can be believed, theobald iv. conceived a passion for queen blanche, the mother of st louis,--a passion which she returned, and which explains the changes in his policy; but this opinion apparently must be relegated to the category of historical fables. the witty and courtly songs he composed place him in the front rank of the poets of that class, in which he showed somewhat more originality than his rivals. in theobald v. the young, eldest son of theobald iv. and, like his father, king of navarre, became count of champagne. he married isabelle of france, daughter of st louis, and followed his father-in-law to tunis to the crusade, dying on his return. in he was succeeded by henry iii. the fat, king of navarre. henry was succeeded in by his only daughter, joan of navarre, under the tutelage of her mother, blanche of artois, and afterwards of edmund, earl of lancaster, her mother's second husband. in she married the heir-presumptive to the throne of france, philip the fair, to whom she brought the countship of champagne as well as the kingdom of navarre. she became queen of france in , and died on the th of april , when her eldest son by king philip, louis hutin, became count of champagne. he was the last independent count of the province, which became attached to the french crown on his accession to the throne of france in . the celebrated fairs of champagne, which flourished in the th and th centuries, were attended by merchants from all parts of civilized europe. they were six in number: two at troyes, two at provins, one at lagny-sur-marne, and one at bar-sur-aube. they formed a kind of continuous market, divided into six periods, and passed in turn from lagny to bar, from bar to provins, from provins to troyes, from troyes to provins and from provins to troyes, to complete the year. it was, in fact, a perpetual fair, which had at once unity and variety, offering to the different parts of the countship the means of selling successively the special productions of their soil or their industry, and of procuring in exchange riches and comforts. these fairs had special legislation; and special magistrates, called "masters of the fairs," had control of the police. for the wine "champagne" see wine. authorities.--h. d'arbois de jubainville, _histoire des ducs et des comtes de champagne_ ( - ); a. longnon, _documents relatifs au comté de champagne et de brie_ ( seq.; vol. i. with map); f. bourquelot, _Études sur les foires de champagne_ ( ). (a. lo.) champagny, jean baptiste nompÈre de ( - ), french politician, was born at roanne, and entered the navy in . he fought through the war in america and resigned in . elected deputy by the _noblesse_ of forex to the states-general in , he went over to the third estate on the st of june and collaborated in the work of the constituent assembly, especially occupying himself with the reorganization of the navy. a political career seems to have attracted him little; he remained in private life from to , when napoleon named him member of the council of state. from july to august he was ambassador of france at vienna, and directed with great intelligence the incessant negotiations between the two courts. in august napoleon made him minister of the interior, and in this position, which he held for three years, he proved an administrator of the first order. in addition to the ordinary charges of his office, he had to direct the recruitment of the army, organize the industrial exhibition of , and to complete the public works undertaken in paris and throughout france. he was devoted to napoleon, on whom he lavished adulation in his speeches. in august the emperor chose him to succeed talleyrand as minister for foreign affairs. he directed the annexation of the papal states in april , worked to secure the abdication of charles iv. of spain in may , negotiated the peace of vienna ( ) and the marriage of napoleon. in april a quarrel with the emperor led to his retirement, and he obtained the sinecure office of intendant general of the crown. in , after the abdication, the empress sent him on a fruitless mission to the emperor of austria. then he went over to the bourbons. during the hundred days he again joined napoleon. this led to his exclusion by louis xviii., but in he recovered his dignity of peer. he died in paris in . he had three sons who became men of distinction. françois ( - ) was a well-known author, who was made a member of the french academy in . his great work was a history of the roman empire, in three parts, ( ) _les césars_ ( - , vols.), ( ) _les antonins_ ( , vols.), ( ) _les césars du iiie siècle_ ( , vols.). napoléon ( - ) published a _traité de la police municipale_ in volumes ( - ), and was a deputy in the corps législatif from to . jérome paul ( - ) was also deputy in the corps législatif from to , and was made honorary chamberlain in . he worked at the official publication of the correspondence of napoleon i. champaign, a city of champaign county, illinois, u.s.a., about m. s. by w. of chicago, on the head-waters of the vermilion river. pop. ( ) ; ( ) , of whom were foreign-born; ( census) , . it is served by the cleveland, cincinnati, chicago & st louis, the wabash, and the illinois central railways (the last having repair shops here), and by the illinois (electric) traction system from danville, illinois, to st louis, missouri. in the city covered . sq. m.; it is situated in a rich agricultural region, and has small manufacturing interests. immediately east of champaign is the city of urbana, the county-seat of champaign county, served by the wabash and the cleveland, cincinnati, chicago & st louis railways, with repair shops of the latter. in the population of urbana was ; in , ( foreign-born); in , . partly in urbana and partly in champaign is the university of illinois (see illinois); immediately south of its campus is the -acre farm of the university. each city has a public library, and in champaign are the burnham athenaeum, the burnham hospital, the garwood home for old ladies, and several parks, all gifts of former citizens. champaign was founded in , incorporated as a city in , and re-chartered in . urbana secured a city charter in . champaigne, philippe de ( - ), belgian painter of the french school, was born at brussels of a poor family. he was a pupil of j. fouquières; and, going to paris in , was employed by n. du chesne to paint along with nicholas poussin in the palace of the luxembourg. his best works are to be found at vincennes, and in the church of the carmelites at paris, where is his celebrated crucifix, a signal perspective success, on one of the vaultings. after the death of du chesne, philippe became first painter to the queen of france, and ultimately rector of the academy of paris. as his age advanced and his health failed, he retired to port royal, where he had a daughter cloistered as a nun, of whom (along with catherine agnès arnauld) he painted a celebrated picture, now in the louvre, highly remarkable for its solid unaffected truth. this, indeed, is the general character of his work,--grave reality, without special elevation or depth of character, or charm of warm or stately colour. he produced an immense number of paintings, religious and other subjects as well as portraits, dispersed over various parts of france, and now over the galleries of europe. philippe was a good man, indefatigable, earnest and scrupulously religious. he died on the th of august . champaran, or chumparun, a district of british india, in the patna division of bengal, occupying the north-west corner of behar, between the two rivers gandak and baghmati and the nepal hills. it has an area of sq. m. in the population was , , , showing a decrease of % in the decade. a broad grass-covered road or embankment defines the nepal frontier, except where rivers or streams form a natural boundary. the district is a vast level except in the n. and n.w., where it undulates, and gradually assumes a rugged appearance as it approaches the mountains and forests of nepal. wide uncultivated tracts cover its north-western corner; the southern and western parts are carefully cultivated, and teem with an active agricultural population. the principal rivers are the gandak, navigable all the year round, the buri gandak, panch nadi, lalbagia, koja and teur. old beds of rivers intersect champaran in every direction, and one of these forms a chain of lakes which occupy an area of sq. m. in the centre of the district. champaran, with the rest of bengal and behar, was acquired by the british in . up to it remained a subdivision of saran. in that year it was separated and formed into a separate district. the administrative headquarters are at motihari (population, , ); bettia is the centre of a very large estate; segauli, still a small military station, was the scene of a massacre during the mutiny. champaran was the chief seat of indigo planting in behar before the decline of that industry. there are about saltpetre refineries. the district suffered severely from drought in and , and again in . in the last year a small government canal was opened, and a canal from the gandak has also been constructed. the district is traversed almost throughout its length to bettia by the tirhoot state railway. a considerable trade is conducted with nepal. champeaux, william of [gulielmus campellensis] (c. - ), french philosopher and theologian was born at champeaux near melun. after studying under anselm of laon and roscellinus, he taught in the school of the cathedral of notre dame, of which he was made canon in . among his pupils was abelard. in he retired into the abbey of st victor, where he resumed his lectures. he afterwards became bishop of châlons-sur-marne, and took part in the dispute concerning investitures as a supporter of calixtus ii., whom he represented at the conference of mousson. his only printed works are a fragment on the eucharist (inserted by jean mabillon in his edition of the works of st bernard), and the _moralia abbreviata_ and _de origine animae_ (in e. martène's _thesaurus novus anecdotorum_, , vol. ). in the last of these he maintains that children who die unbaptized must be lost, the pure soul being denied by the grossness of the body, and declares that god's will is not to be questioned. he upholds the theory of creatianism (that a soul is specially created for each human being). ravaisson-mollien has discovered a number of fragments by him, among which the most important is the _de essentia dei et de substantia dei_; a _liber sententiarum_, consisting of discussions on ethics and scriptural interpretation, is also ascribed to champeaux. he is reputed the founder of realism. for his views and his controversy with abelard, see scholasticism and abelard. see victor cousin, introduction to his _ouvrages inédits d'abélard_ ( ), and _fragments pour servir à l'histoire de la philosophie_ ( ); g.a. patru, _wilhelmi campellensis de natura et de origine rerum placita_ ( ); e. michaud, _guillaume de champeaux et les écoles de paris au xiie siècle_ ( nd ed., ); "william of champeaux and his times" in _christian observer_, lxxii. ; b. hauréau, _de la philosophie scolastique_ (paris, ); opuscula in j.p. migne's _patrologia_, clxiii. champerty, or champarty (lat. _campi partitio_, o. fr. _champ parti_), in english law, a bargain between a plaintiff or defendant in a cause and another person, to divide the land (_campum partiri_) or other matter sued for, if they prevail, in consideration of that person carrying on or defending the suit at his own expense. it is a misdemeanour punishable by fine or imprisonment. it differs only from maintenance (q.v.), in that the recompense for the service which has been given is always part of the matter in suit, or some profit growing out of it. so an agreement by a solicitor not to charge costs on condition of retaining for himself a share of the sums recovered would be illegal and void. it is not, however, champerty to charge the subject-matter of a suit in order to obtain the means of prosecuting it. see _fifth report of the criminal law commissioners_, pp. - . champion (fr. _champion_, late lat. _campio_ from _campus_, a field or open space, i.e. one "who takes the field" or fights; cf. ger. _kampf_, battle, and _kämpfer_, fighter), in the judicial combats of the middle ages the substitute for a party to the suit disabled from bearing arms or specially exempt from the duty to do so (see wager). hence the word has come to be applied to any one who "champions," or contends on behalf of, any person or cause. in the laws of the lombards (lib. ii. tit. §§ , ), those who by reason of youth, age or infirmity could not bear arms were allowed to nominate champions, and the same provision was made in the case of women (lib. i. tit. § , tit. , § ). this was practically the rule laid down in all subsequent legislation on the subject. thus the _assize of jerusalem_ (cap. ) says: "these are the people who may defend themselves through champions; a woman, a sick man, a man who has passed the age of sixty, &c." the clergy, too, whether as individuals or corporations, were represented by champions; in the case of bishops and abbots this function was part of the duties of the _advocatus_ (see advocate). du cange gives instances of mercenary champions (_campiones conductitii_), who were regarded as "infamous persons" and sometimes, in case of defeat, were condemned to lose hand or foot. sometimes championships were "serjeanties," i.e. rendered service to lords, churches or cities in consideration of the grant of certain fiefs, or for annual money payments, the champion doing homage to the person or corporation represented by him (_campiones homagii_). the office of "king's champion" (_campio regis_) is peculiar to england. the function of the king's champion, when the ceremonial of the coronation was carried out in its completeness, was to ride, clad in complete armour, on his right the high constable, on his left the earl marshal, into westminster hall during the coronation banquet, and challenge to single combat any who should dispute the king's right to reign. the challenge was thrice repeated by the herald, at the entrance to the hall, in the centre, and at the foot of the dais. on picking up his gauntlet for the third time the champion was pledged by the king in a gilt-covered cup, which was then presented to him as his fee by the king. if he had had occasion to fight, and was victorious, his fee would have been the armour he wore and the horse he rode, the second best in the royal stables; but no such occasion has ever arisen. this picturesque ceremonial was last performed at the coronation of george iv. the office of king's champion is of great antiquity, and its origins are involved in great obscurity. it is said to have been held under william the conqueror by robert or roger marmion, whose ancestors had been hereditary champions in normandy. the first authentic record, however is a charter of henry i., signed by robert marmion (_robertus de bajucis campio regis_). of the actual exercise of the office the earliest record dates from the coronation of richard ii. on this occasion the champion, sir john dymoke, appeared at the door of the abbey immediately after the coronation mass, but was peremptorily told to go away and return later; moreover, in his bill presented to the court of claims, he stated that the champion was to ride in the procession before the service, and make his challenge to all the world. this seems to show that the ceremony, as might be expected, was originally performed _before_ the king's coronation, when it would have had some significance. the office of king's champion is hereditary, and is now held by the family of dymoke (q.v.). see du cange, _glossarium_, s.v. "campio"; l.g. wickham legg, _english coronation records_ (westminster, ); j.h.t. perkins, _the coronation book_ (london, ). championnet, jean Étienne ( - ), french general, enlisted in the army at an early age and served in the great siege of gibraltar. when the revolution broke out he took a prominent part in the movement, and was elected by the men of a battalion to command them. in may he was charged with the suppression of the disturbances in the jura, which he quelled without bloodshed. under pichegru he took part in the rhine campaign of that year as a brigade commander, and at weissenburg and in the palatinate won the warm commendation of lazare hoche. at fleurus his stubborn fighting in the centre of the field contributed greatly to jourdan's victory. in the subsequent campaigns he commanded the left wing of the french armies on the rhine between neuwied and düsseldorf, and took a great part in all the successful and unsuccessful expeditions to the lahn and the main. in championnet was named commander-in-chief of the "army of rome" which was protecting the infant roman republic against the neapolitan court and the british fleet. nominally , strong, the army scarcely numbered effectives, with a bare fifteen cartridges per man. the austrian general mack had a tenfold superiority in numbers, but championnet so well held his own that he ended by capturing naples itself and there setting up the parthenopean republic. but his intense earnestness and intolerance of opposition soon embroiled him with the civilians, and the general was recalled in disgrace. the following year, however, saw him again in the field as commander-in-chief of the "army of the alps." this, too, was at first a mere paper force, but after three months' hard work it was able to take the field. the campaign which followed was uniformly unsuccessful, and, worn out by the unequal struggle, championnet died at antibes on the th of january . in a statue was erected in his honour at valence. see a.r.c. de st albin, _championnet, ou les campagnes de hollande, de rome et de naples_ (paris, ). champlain, samuel de ( - ), french explorer, colonial pioneer and first governor of french canada, was born at brouage, a small french port on the bay of biscay, in . his father was a sea captain, and the boy was early skilled in seamanship and navigation. he entered the army of henry iv., and served in brittany under jean d'aumont, françois de st luc and charles de brissac. when the army of the league was disbanded he accompanied his uncle, who had charge of the ships in which the spanish allies were conveyed home, and on reaching cadiz secured ( ) the command of one of the vessels about to make an expedition to the west indies. he was gone over two years, visiting all the principal ports and pushing inland from vera cruz to the city of mexico. the ms. account of his adventures, _bref discours des choses plus remarquables que samuel champlain de brouage a recognues aux indes occidentales_, is in the library at dieppe. it was not published in french until , although an english translation was printed by the hakluyt society in . it contains a suggestion of a panama canal, "by which the voyage to the south sea would be shortened by more than leagues." in champlain made his first voyage to canada, being sent out by aymar de clermont, seigneur de chastes, on whom the king had bestowed a patent. champlain at once established friendly relations with the indians and explored the st lawrence to the rapids above montreal. on his return he published an interesting and historically valuable little book, _des sauvages, ou voyage de samuel champlain de brouage fait en la france nouvelle_. during his absence de chastes had died, and his privileges and fur trade monopolies were conferred upon pierre de guast, sieur de monts ( - ). with him, in , champlain was engaged in exploring the coast as far south as cape cod, in seeking a site for a new settlement, and in making surveys and charts. they first settled on an island near the mouth of the st croix river, and then at port royal--now annapolis, n.s. meanwhile the basques and bretons, asserting that they were being ruined by de monts' privileges, got his patent revoked, and champlain returned with the discouraged colonists to europe. when, however, in modified form, the patent was re-granted to his patron champlain induced him to abandon acadia and establish a settlement on the st lawrence, of the commercial advantages of which, perhaps even as a western route to china and japan, he soon convinced him. champlain was placed in command of one of the two vessels sent out. he was to explore and colonize, while the other vessel traded, to pay for the expedition. champlain fixed on the site of quebec and founded the first white settlement there in july , giving it its present name. in the spring he joined a war party of algonquins and hurons, discovered the great lake that bears his name, and, near the present ticonderoga, took with his arquebus an important part in the victory which his savage friends obtained over the iroquois. the iroquois naturally turned first to the dutch and then to the english for allies. "thus did new france rush into collision with the redoubted warriors of the five nations. here was the beginning, and in some measure doubtless the cause, of a long suite of murderous conflicts, bearing havoc and flame to generations yet unborn" (parkman). champlain returned to france and again related to henry iv.--who had previously learned his worth and had pensioned him--his exciting adventures. de monts failed to secure a renewal of his patent, but resolved to proceed without it. champlain was again ( ) in canada, fighting for and against the indians and establishing a trading post at mont royal (see montreal). he was the third white man to descend, and the second to descend successfully, the lachine rapids. de monts, now governor of paris, was too busy to occupy himself in the waning fortunes of the colony, and left them entirely to his associate. an influential protector was needed; and champlain prevailed upon charles de bourbon, comte de soissons, to interest himself to obtain from the king the appointment of lieutenant-general in new france. the comte de soissons died almost immediately, and was succeeded in the office by henri de bourbon, prince de condé, and he, like his predecessors and successors, retained champlain as lieutenant-governor. "in champlain alone was the life of new france. by instinct and temperament he was more impelled to the adventurous toils of exploration than to the duller task of building colonies. the profits of trade had value in his eyes only as means to these ends, and settlements were important chiefly as a base of discovery. two great objects eclipsed all others,--to find a route to the indies, and to bring the heathen tribes into the embraces of the church, since, while he cared little for their bodies, his solicitude for their souls knew no bounds" (parkman). in champlain again crossed the atlantic and endeavoured to confirm nicolas de vignau's alleged discovery of a short route to the ocean by the ottawa river, a great lake at its source, and another river flowing north therefrom. that year he got as far as allumette island in the ottawa, but two years later, with a "great war party" of indians, he crossed lake nipissing and the eastern ends of lakes huron and ontario, and made a fierce but unsuccessful attack on an onondaga fortified town a few miles south of lake oneida. this was the end of his wanderings. he now devoted himself to the growth and strengthening of quebec. every year he went to france with this end in view. he was one of the hundred associates of the company of new france, created by richelieu to reform abuses and take over all his country's interests in the new world. these ill-defended possessions england now prepared to seize. three ships were sent out under letters of marque commanded by david, lewis and thomas kirke, and quebec, already on the verge of starvation, was compelled to surrender ( ). champlain was taken to england a prisoner, but when canada was restored to the french he returned ( ) to his post, where he died on the th of december . he had married in , hélène boullé, then but twelve years old. she did not leave france for canada, however, until ten years later. after his death she became a nun. champlain's complete works in vols. were published under the patronage of the university of laval in . there is a careful translation of _champlain's voyages_, by professor and mrs e.g. bourne in the "trailmaker" series edited by prof. j.b. mcmaster. see f. parkman, _pioneers of france in the new world_ ( ); j. winsor, _cartier to frontenac_ ( ); n.e. dionne, _champlain_ ( ). (n. e. d.) champlain, a lake lying between the states of new york and vermont, u.s.a., and penetrating for a few miles into canada. it extends about m. from n. to s., varies from ¼ m. to m. in width for m. from its s. terminus, and then widens until it reaches a maximum width of about m. near ausable point. its area is about sq. m. its surface is ft. above the sea. in the north part it is generally from to ft. deep; opposite essex, n.y., near its middle, the depth increases to ft.; but farther south it is much less; throughout the greater part of the lake there is a depth of water of more than ft. since the lake is caused by the ponding of water in a broad irregular valley, the shore line is nearly everywhere much broken, and in the northern portion are several islands, both large and small, most of which belong to vermont. these islands divide the lake's northern end into two large arms which extend into canada. from the western arm the richelieu river flows out, carrying the water of champlain to the st lawrence. the waters abound in salmon, salmon-trout, sturgeon and other fish, and are navigated from end to end by large steamboats and vessels of considerable tonnage. the lake was formerly the seat of extensive traffic, especially in lumber, but navigation has greatly decreased; the tonnage entering and clearing at the lake was twice as great in the early ' 's as it was thirty years later. the principal ports are burlington, vt., and plattsburg, n.y. lake champlain lies in a valley from to m. wide, between the green mountains on the east and the adirondack mountains on the west, and the scenery is most picturesque. on the east side is a rather gradual ascent for m. or more from shore to summit, while on the west side the ascent is by a succession of hills, in some places from the water's edge. north of crown point low mountains rise to ft. above the lake, and behind these are the higher peaks of the adirondacks, reaching an elevation of more than ft. lake george is a tributary on the south, several small streams flow in from each side; the champlain canal, m. in length, connects the lake with the hudson river; and through the richelieu it has a natural outlet to the north into the st lawrence. lake champlain was named from samuel de champlain, who discovered it in july . the valley is a natural pathway between the united states and canada, and during the various wars which the english have waged in america it had great strategic importance. in the french built a fort at crown point; in , another at ticonderoga; and both were important strategic points in the french and indian war as well as in the american war of independence. on the th of october , the first battle between an american and a british fleet, the battle of valcour island, was fought on the lake. benedict arnold, the american commander, with a decidedly inferior force, withstood the british under thomas pringle for about seven hours, and then during the night escaped through the enemy's line. although overtaken the next day he again, after a fight of a few hours, made a successful retreat. at the beginning of the war of the american naval force on the lake, though very small, was superior to that of the british, but on the rd of june the british captured two american sloops in the narrow channel at the northern end and gained supremacy. both sides now began to build and equip vessels for a decisive contest; by may the americans had regained supremacy, and four months later a british land force of , men under sir george prevost ( - ) and a naval force of vessels of about tons with men and guns under captain george downie (d. ) confronted an american land force of men under brigadier-general alexander macomb ( - ), strongly entrenched at plattsburg, and an american naval force (anchored in plattsburg bay) of vessels of about tons with men and guns under commodore thomas macdonough ( - ). in the open lake the british naval force should have been the superior, but at anchor in the bay the americans had a decided advantage. expecting the british land force to drive the american fleet from its anchorage, captain downie, on the th of september , began the battle of lake champlain. it had continued only fifteen minutes when he was killed; the land force failed to co-operate, and after a severe fight at close range for ½ hours, during which the british lost about men, the americans and the vessels of both sides were greatly shattered, the british retreated both by land and by water, abandoning their plan of invading new york. see c.e. peet, "glacial and post-glacial history of the hudson and champlain valleys," in vol. xii. of the _journal of geology_ (chicago, ); p.s. palmer, _history of lake champlain_ (albany. ); and capt. a.t. mahan, _sea power in its relations to the war of _ ( vols., boston, ). champmeslÉ, marie ( - ), french actress, was born in rouen of a good family. her father's name was desmares. she made her first appearance on the stage at rouen with charles chevillet ( - ), who called himself sieur de champmeslé, and they were married in . by they were playing in paris at the théatre du marais, her first appearance there being as venus in boyer's _fête de venus_. the next year, as hermione in racine's _andromaque_, she had a great success at the hôtel de bourgogne. her intimacy with racine dates from then. some of his finest tragedies were written for her, but her repertoire was not confined to them, and many an indifferent play--like thomas corneille's _ariane_ and _comte d'essex_--owed its success to "her natural manner of acting, and her pathetic rendering of the hapless heroine." _phèdre_ was the climax of her triumphs, and when she and her husband deserted the hôtel de bourgogne (see bÉjart _ad fin._), it was selected to open the comédie française on the th of august . here, with mme guérin as the leading comedy actress, she played the great tragic love parts for more than thirty years, dying on the th of may . la fontaine dedicated to her his novel _belphégor_, and boileau immortalized her in verse. her husband distinguished himself both as actor and playwright, and his _parisien_ ( ) gave mme guérin one of her greatest successes. her brother, the actor nicolas desmares (c. - ), began as a member of a subsidized company at copenhagen, but by her influence he came to paris and was received in _sans début_--the first time such an honour had been accorded--at the comédie française, where he became famous for peasant parts. his daughter, to whom christian v. and his queen stood sponsors, christine antoinette charlotte desmares ( - ), was a fine actress in both tragedy and soubrette parts. she made her début at the comédie française in , in la grange chancel's _oreste et pylade_, and was at once received as _sociétaire_. she retired in . champollion, jean franÇois ( - ), french egyptologist, called le jeune to distinguish him from champollion-figeac (q.v.), his elder brother, was born at figeac, in the department of lot, on the rd of december . he was educated by his brother, and was then appointed government pupil at the lyceum, which had recently been founded. his first work ( ) was an attempt to show by means of their names that the giants of the bible and of greek mythology were personifications of natural phenomena. at the age of sixteen ( ) he read before the academy of grenoble a paper in which he maintained that the coptic was the ancient language of egypt. he soon after removed to paris, where he enjoyed the friendship of langlès, de sacy and millin. in he was made professor of history in the lyceum of grenoble, and there published his earlier works. champollion's first decipherment of hieroglyphics dates from . in he was sent by charles x. to visit the collections of egyptian antiquities in the museums of turin, leghorn, rome and naples; and on his return he was appointed director of the egyptian museum at the louvre. in he was commissioned to undertake the conduct of a scientific expedition to egypt in company with rosellini, who had received a similar appointment from leopold ii., grand duke of tuscany. he remained there about a year. in march he received the chair of egyptian antiquities, which had been created specially for him, in the collège de france. he was engaged with rosellini in publishing the results of egyptian researches at the expense of the tuscan and french governments, when he was seized with a paralytic disorder, and died at paris in . champollion, whose claims were hotly disputed for many years after his death, is now universally acknowledged to have been the founder of egyptology. he wrote _l'Égypte sous les phraons_ ( vols. vo, ); _sur l'écriture hiératique_ ( ); _sur l'écriture démotique_; _précis du systéme hiéroglyphique_, &c. ( ); _panthéon égyptien, ou collection des personnages mythologiques de l'ancienne egypte_ (incomplete); _monumens de l'Égypte et de la nubie considérés par rapport a l'histoire, la religion, &c._; _grammaire égyptienne_ ( ), and _dictionnaire égyptienne_( ), edited by his brother; _analyse méthodique du texte démotique de rosette_; _aperçu des résultats historiques de la découverte de l'alphabet hiéroglyphique_ ( ); _mémoires sur les signes employés par les Égyptiens dans leurs trois systèmes graphiques à la notation des principales divisions du temps_; _lettres ecrites d'Égypte et de nubie_ ( ); and also seveial letters on egyptian subjects, addressed at different periods to the duc de blacas and others. see h. hartleben, _champollion, sein leben und sein werk_ ( vols., ); also egypt: _language and writing_ (_ad init._). champollion-figeac, jacques joseph ( - ), french archaeologist, elder brother of jean françois champollion, was born at figeac in the department of lot, on the th of october . he became professor of greek and librarian at grenoble, but was compelled to retire in on account of the part he had taken during the hundred days. he afterwards became keeper of manuscripts at the bibliothèque nationale in paris, and professor of palaeography at the École des chartes. in he became librarian of the palace of fontainebleau. he edited several of his brother's works, and was also author of original works on philological and historical subjects, among which may be mentioned _nouvelles recherches sur les patois ou idiomes vulgaires de la france_ ( ), _annales de lagides_ ( ) and _chartes latines sur papyrus du vie siècle de l'ère chrétienne_. his son aimÉ ( - ) became his father's assistant at the bibliothèque nationale, and besides a number of works on historical subjects wrote a biographical and bibliographical study of his family in _les deux champollion_ (grenoble, ). chance (through the o. fr. _chéance_, from the late lat. _cadentia_, things happening, from _cadere_, to fall out, happen; cf. "case"), an accident or event, a phenomenon which has no apparent or discoverable cause; hence an event which has not been expected, a piece of good or bad fortune. from the popular idea that anything of which no assignable cause is known has therefore no cause, chance (gr. [greek: tuchê]) was regarded as having a substantial objective existence, being itself the source of such uncaused phenomena. for the philosophic theories relating to this subject see accidentalism. "chance," in the theory of probability, is used in two ways. in the stricter, or mathematical usage, it is synonymous with probability; i.e. if a particular event may occur in n ways in an aggregate of p events, then the "chance" of the particular event occurring is given by the fraction _n/p_. in the second usage, the "chance" is regarded as the ratio of the number of ways which a particular event may occur to the number of ways in which it may not occur; mathematically expressed, this chance is _n/(p-n)_ (see probability). in the english law relating to gaming and wagering a distinction is drawn between games of chance and games of skill (see gaming and wagering). chancel (through o. fr. from lat. plur. _cancelli_, dim. of _cancer_, grating, lattice, probably connected with an indo-european root _kar_-, to bend; cf. circus, curve, &c.), in the earliest and strictest sense that part of a church near the altar occupied by the deacons and sub-deacons assisting the officiating priest, this space having originally been separated from the rest of the church by _cancelli_ or lattice work. the word _cancelli_ is used in classical latin of a screen, bar or the like, set to mark off an enclosed space in a building or in an open place. it is thus used of the bar in a court of justice (cicero, _verres_, ii. seq.). it is particularly used of the lattice or screen in the ancient basilica, which separated the _bema_, or raised tribunal, from the rest of the building. the use of the name in ecclesiastical buildings is thus natural, for the altar stood in the place occupied by the _bema_ in the apse of the basilica. from the screen the term was early transferred to the space _inter cancellos_, i.e. the _locus altaris cancellis septus_. this railed-off space is now generally known among roman catholics as the "sanctuary," the word chancel being little used. in the church of england, however, the word chancel survived the reformation, and is applied, both in the ecclesiastical and the architectural sense, to that part of the church occupied by the principal altar or communion table and by the clergy and singers officiating at the chief services; it thus includes presbytery, chancel proper and choir (q.v.), and in this sense, in the case of cathedrals and other large churches, is often used synonymously with choir. in this more inclusive sense the early basilican churches had no chancels, which were a comparatively late development; the _cancelli_, e.g. of such a church as san clemente at rome are equivalent not to the "chancel screen" of a medieval church but to the "altar rails" that divide off the sanctuary. in churches of the type that grew to its perfection in the middle ages the chancels are clearly differentiated from the nave by structural features: by the raising of the floor level, by the presence of a "chancel arch," and by a chancel or rood screen (see rood). the chancel screen might be no more than a low barrier, some ft. high, or a light structure of wood or wrought iron; sometimes, however, they were massive stone screens, which in certain cases were continued on either side between the piers of the choir and (on the european continent) round the east end of the sanctuary, as in the cathedrals of paris, bourges, limoges, amiens and chartres. these screens served the purpose, in collegiate and conventual churches, of cutting off the space reserved for the services conducted for and by the members of the chapter or community. for popular services a second high altar was usually set up to the west of the screen, as formerly at westminster abbey. in parish churches the screen was set, partly to differentiate the space occupied by the clergy from that reserved for the laity, partly to support the representation of the crucifixion known as the rood. in these churches, too, the chancel is very usually structurally differentiated by being narrower and, sometimes, less high than the nave. in the church of england, the duty of repairing the chancel falls upon the parson by custom, while the repair of the body of the church falls on the parishioners. in particular cases, as in certain london churches, the parishioners also have to repair the chancel. where there are both a rector and a vicar the repairs are shared between them, and this is also the case where the rector is a lay impropriator. by the rubric of the english prayer book "the chancels shall remain as they have done in times past," i.e. distinguished from the body of the church by some partition sufficient to separate the two without interfering with the view of the congregation. at the reformation, and for some time after, this distinction was regarded by the dominant puritan party as a mark of sacerdotalism, and services were commonly said in other parts of the church, the chancels being closed and disused. the rubric, however, directs that "'morning and evening prayer' shall be used in the accustomed place in the church, chapel or chancel, except it shall be otherwise determined by the ordinary." chancel screens, with or without gates, are lawful, but chancellors of dioceses have refused to grant a faculty to erect gates, as unnecessary or inexpedient. chancellor (m. eng. and anglo-fr. _canceler_, _chanceler_, fr. _chancelier_, lat. _cancellarius_), an official title used by most of the peoples whose civilization has arisen directly or indirectly out of the roman empire. at different times and in different countries it has stood and stands for very various duties, and has been, and is, borne by officers of various degrees of dignity. the original chancellors were the _cancelarii_ of roman courts of justice, ushers who sat at the _cancelli_ or lattice work screens of a "basilica" or law court, which separated the judge and counsel from the audience (see chancel). in the later eastern empire the _cancellarii_ were promoted at first to notarial duties. the barbarian kingdoms which arose on the ruin of the empire in the west copied more or less intelligently the roman model in all their judicial and financial administration. under the frankish kings of the merovingian dynasty the _cancellarii_ were subordinates of the great officer of state called the _referendarius_, who was the predecessor of the more modern chancellor. the office became established under the form _archi-cancellarius_, or chief of the _cancellarii_. stubbs says that the carolingian chancellor was the royal notary and the arch-chancellor keeper of the royal seal. his functions would naturally be discharged by a cleric in times when book learning was mainly confined to the clergy. from the reign of louis the pious the post was held by a bishop. by an equally natural process he became the chief secretary of the king and of the queen, who also had her chancellor. such an office possessed an obvious capacity for developing on the judicial as well as the administrative side. appeals and petitions of aggrieved persons would pass through the chancellor's hands, as well as the political correspondence of the king. nor was the king the only man who had need of a chancellor. great officers and corporations also had occasion to employ an agent to do secretarial, notarial and judicial work for them, and called him by the convenient name of chancellor. the history of the office in its many adaptations to public and private service is the history of its development on judicial, administrative, political, secretarial and notarial lines. the chancellor in england. the model of the carolingian court was followed by the medieval states of western europe. in england the office of chancellor dates back to the reign of edward the confessor, the first english king to use the norman practice of sealing instead of signing documents; and from the norman conquest onwards the succession of chancellors is continuous. the chancellor was originally, and long continued to be, an ecclesiastic, who combined the functions of the most dignified of the royal chaplains, the king's secretary in secular matters, and keeper of the royal seal. from the first, then, though at the outset overshadowed by that of the justiciar, the office of chancellor was one of great influence and importance. as chaplain the chancellor was keeper of the king's conscience; as secretary he enjoyed the royal confidence in secular affairs; as keeper of the seal he was necessary to all formal expressions of the royal will. by him and his staff of chaplains the whole secretarial work of the royal household was conducted, the accounts were kept under the justiciar and treasurer, writs were drawn up and sealed, and the royal correspondence was carried on. he was, in fact, as stubbs puts it, a sort of secretary of state for all departments. "this is he," wrote john of salisbury (d. ), "who cancels (_cancellat_) the evil laws of the realm, and makes equitable (_aequa_) the commands of a pious prince," a curious anticipation of the chancellor's later equitable jurisdiction. under henry ii., indeed, the chancellor was already largely employed in judicial work, either in attendance on the king or in provincial visitations; though the peculiar jurisdiction of the chancery was of later growth. by this time, however, the chancellor was "great alike in curia and exchequer"; he was _secundus a rege_, i.e. took precedence immediately after the justiciar, and nothing was done either in the curia or the exchequer without his consent. so great was his office that william fitzstephen, the biographer of becket, tells us that it was not purchasable (_emenda non est_), a statement which requires modification, since it was in fact more than once sold under henry i., stephen, richard and john (stubbs, _const. hist._ i. pp. - ; gneist, _const. hist. of england_, p. ), an evil precedent which was, however, not long followed. the judicial duties of the chancellor grew out of the fact that all petitions addressed to the king passed through his hands. the number and variety of these became so great that in , under edward i., an ordinance was issued directing the chancellor and the justices to deal with the greater number of them; those which involved the use of the great seal being specially referred to the chancellor. the chancellor and justices were to determine which of them were "so great, and of grace, that the chancellor and others would not despatch them without the king," and these the chancellor and other chief ministers were to carry in person to the king (stubbs ii. , note, and p. ). at this period the chancellor, though employed in equity, had ministerial functions only; but when, in the reign of edward iii., the chancellor ceased to follow the court, his tribunal acquired a more definite character, and petitions for grace and favour began to be addressed primarily to him, instead of being merely examined and passed on by him to the king; and in the twenty-second year of this reign matters which were of grace were definitely committed to the chancellor for decision. this is the starting-point of the equitable jurisdiction of the chancellor, whence developed that immense body of rules, supplementing the deficiencies or modifying the harshness of the common law, which is known as equity (q.v.). the chancellor in parliament. the position of the chancellor as speaker or prolocutor of the house of lords dates from the time when the ministers of the royal curia formed _ex officio_ a part of the _commune concilium_ and parliament. the chancellor originally attended with the other officials, and he continued to attend _ex officio_ after they had ceased to do so. if he chanced to be a bishop, he was summoned regularly _qua_ bishop; otherwise he attended without summons. when not a peer the chancellor had no place in parliament except as chancellor, and the act of henry viii. cap. ( ) laid down that, if not a peer, he had "no interest to give any assent or dissent in the house." yet sir robert bourchier (d. ), the first lay chancellor, had protested in against the first statute of edward iii. (on trial by peers, &c.), on the ground that it had not received his assent and was contrary to the laws of the realm. from the time, however, of william, lord cowper (first lord high chancellor of great britain in , created baron cowper in ), all chancellors have been made peers on their elevation to the woolsack. sometimes the custody of the great seal has been transferred from the chancellor to a special official, the lord keeper of the great seal (see lord keeper); this was notably the case under queen elizabeth (cf. the french _garde des sceaux_, below). sometimes it is put into commission, being affixed by lords commissioners of the great seal. by the catholic emancipation act of it was enacted that none of these offices could be held by a roman catholic (see further under lord high chancellor). the office of lord chancellor of ireland, and that of chancellor of scotland (who ceased to be appointed after the act of union of ) followed the same lines of development. chancellor of the exchequer. the title of chancellor, without the predicates "high" or "lord," is also applied in the united kingdom to a number of other officials and functionaries of varying rank and importance. of these the most important is the chancellor of the exchequer, an office which originated in the separation of the chancery from the exchequer in the reign of henry iii. ( - ). his duties consisted originally in the custody and employment of the seal of the exchequer, in the keeping of a counter-roll to check the roll kept by the treasurer, and in the discharge of certain judicial functions in the exchequer of account. so long as the treasury board was in active working, the chancellorship of the exchequer was an office of small importance, and even during a great part of the th century was not necessarily a cabinet office, unless held in conjunction with that of first lord of the treasury. at the present time the chancellor of the exchequer is minister of finance, and therefore always of cabinet rank (see exchequer). chancellor of the duchy. the chancellor of the duchy of lancaster is the representative of the crown in the management of its lands and the control of its courts in the duchy of lancaster, the property of which is scattered over several counties. these lands and privileges, though their inheritance has always been vested in the king and his heirs, have always been kept distinct from the hereditary revenues of the sovereign, whose palatine rights as duke of lancaster were distinct from his rights as king. the judicature act of left only the chancery court of the duchy, but the chancellor can appoint and dismiss the county court judges within the limits of the duchy; he is responsible also for the land revenues of the duchy, which are the private property of the sovereign, and keeps the seal of the duchy. his appointment is by letters patent, and his salary is derived from the revenue of the duchy. as the judicial and estate work is done by subordinate officials, the office is practically a sinecure and is usually given to a minister whose assistance is necessary to a government, but who for one reason or another cannot undertake the duties of an important department. john bright described him as the maid-of-all-work of the cabinet. ecclesiastical chancellors. the chancellor of a diocese is the official who presides over the bishop's court and exercises jurisdiction in his name. this use of the word is comparatively modern, and, though employed in acts of parliament, is not mentioned in the commission, having apparently been adopted on the analogy of the like title in the state. the chancellor was originally the keeper of the archbishop or bishop's seals; but the office, as now understood, includes two other offices distinguished in the commission by the titles of vicar-general and official principal (see ecclesiastical jurisdiction). the chancellor of a diocese must be distinguished from the chancellor of a cathedral, whose office is the same as that of the ancient _scholasticus_ (see cathedral). academic, &c. the chancellor of an order of knighthood discharges notarial duties and keeps the seal. the chancellor of a university is an official of medieval origin. the appointment was originally made by the popes, and the office from the first was one of great dignity and originally of great power. the chancellor was, as he remains, the head of the university; he had the general superintendence of its studies and of its discipline, could make and unmake laws, try and punish offences, appoint to professorial chairs and admit students to the various degrees (see du cange, s. "_cancellarii academiarum_"). in england the chancellorship of the universities is now a more or less ornamental office and is conferred on noblemen or statesmen of distinction, whose principal function is to look after the general interests of the university, especially in its relations with the government. the chancellor is represented in the university by a vice-chancellor, who performs the administrative and judicial functions of the office. in the united states the heads of certain educational establishments have the title of chancellor. in scotland the foreman of a jury is called its chancellor. in the united states the chancellors are judges of the chancery courts of the states, e.g. delaware and new jersey, where these courts are still maintained as distinct from the courts of common law. in other states, e.g. new york since , the title has been abolished, and there is no federal chancellor. in diplomacy generally the chancellor of an embassy or legation is an official attached to the suite of an ambassador or minister. he performs the functions of a secretary, archivist, notary and the like, and is at the head of the chancery, or chancellery (fr. _chancellerie_), of the mission. the functions of this office are the transcribing and registering of official despatches and other documents, and generally the transaction of all the minor business, e.g. marriages, passports and the like, connected with the duties of a diplomatic agent towards his nationals in a foreign country. the dignified connotation of the title chancellor has given to this office a prestige which in itself it does not deserve; and "chancery" or "chancellery" is commonly used as though it were synonymous with embassy, while diplomatic style is sometimes called _style de chancellerie_, though as a matter of fact the chanceries have nothing to do with it. _france._--the country in which the office of chancellor followed most closely the same lines as in england is france. he had become a great officer under the carolingians, and he grew still greater under the capetian sovereigns. the great chancellor, _summus cancellarius_ or _archi-cancellarius_, was a dignitary who had indeed little real power. the post was commonly filled by the archbishop of reims, or the bishop of paris. the _cancellarius_, who formed part of the royal court and administration, was officially known as the _sub-cancellarius_ in relation to the _summus cancellarius_, but as _proto-cancellarius_ in regard to his subordinate _cancellarii_. he was a very great officer, an ecclesiastic who was the chief of the king's chaplains or king's clerks, who administered all ecclesiastical affairs; he had judicial powers, and from the th century had the general control of foreign affairs. the chancellor in fact became so great that the capetian kings, who did not forget the mayor of the palace, grew afraid of him. few of the early ecclesiastical chancellors failed to come into collision with the king, or parted with him on good terms. philip augustus suspended the chancellorship throughout the whole of his reign, and appointed a keeper of the seals (_garde des sceaux_). the office was revived under louis viii., but the ecclesiastical chancellorship was finally suppressed in . the king of the th century employed only keepers of the seal. under the reign of philip iv. le bel lay chancellors were first appointed. from the reign of charles v. to that of louis xi. the french _chancelier_ was elected by the royal council. in the th century he became irremovable, a distinction more honourable than effective, for though the king could not dismiss him from office he could, and on some occasions did, deprive him of the right to exercise his functions, and entrusted them to a keeper of the seal. the _chancelier_ from the th century downwards was the head of the law, and performed the duties which are now entrusted to the minister of justice. his office was abolished when in the whole judicial system of france was swept away by the revolution. the smaller _chanceliers_ of the provincial parlements and royal courts disappeared at the same time. but when napoleon was organizing the empire he created an arch-chancellor, an office which was imitated rather from the _erz-kanzler_ of the holy roman empire than from the old french _chancelier_. at the restoration the office of chancellor of france was restored, the chancellor being president of the house of peers, but it was finally abolished at the revolution of . the administration of the legion of honour is presided over by a _grand chancelier_, who is a grand cross of the order, and who advises the head of the state in matters concerning the affairs of the order. the title of _chancelier_ continues also to be used in france for the large class of officials who discharge notarial duties in some public offices, in embassies and consulates. they draw up diplomas and prepare all formal documents, and have charge of the registration and preservation of the archives. _spain._--in spain the office of chancellor, _canciller_, was introduced by alphonso vii. ( - ), who adopted it from the court of his cousins of the capetian dynasty of france. the _canciller_ did not in spain go beyond being the king's notary. the chancellor of the privy seal, _canciller del sello de la puridad_ (literally the secret seal), was the king's secretary, and sealed all papers other than diplomas and charters. the office was abolished in , and its functions were transferred to the royal secretaries. the _cancelario_ was the chancellor of a university. the _canciller_ succeeded the _maesescuela_ or _scholasticus_ of a church or monastery. _canciller mayor de castilla_ is an honorary title of the archbishops of toledo. the _gran canciller de las indias_, high chancellor of the indies, held the seal used for the american dominions of spain, and presided at the council in the absence of the president. the office disappeared with the loss of spain's empire in america. _italy, germany, &c._--in central and northern europe, and in italy, the office had different fortunes. in southern italy, where naples and sicily were feudally organized, the chancellors of the norman kings, who followed anglo-norman precedents very closely, and, at least in sicily, employed englishmen, were such officers as were known in the west. the similarity is somewhat concealed by the fact that these sovereigns also adopted names and offices from the imperial court at constantinople. their chancellor was officially known as protonotary and logothete, and their example was followed by the german princes of the hohenstaufen family, who acquired the kingdoms of naples and sicily. the papal or apostolic chancery is dealt with in the article on the curia romana (q.v.). it may be pointed out here, however, that the close connexion of the papacy with the holy roman empire is illustrated by the fact that the archbishop of cologne, who by right of his see was the emperor's arch-chancellor (_erz-kanzler_) for italy, was confirmed as papal arch-chancellor by a bull of leo ix. in . the origin and duration of this connexion are, however, obscure; it appears to have ceased before . the last record of a papal chancellor in the middle ages dates from , from which time onward, for reasons much disputed, the head of the papal chancery bore the title vice-chancellor (hinschius i. ), until the office of chancellor was restored by the constitution _sapientius_ of pius x. in . the title of arch-chancellor (_erz-kanzler_) was borne by three great ecclesiastical dignitaries of the holy roman empire. the archbishop of mainz was arch-chancellor for germany. the archbishop of cologne held the dignity for italy, and the archbishop of trier for gaul and the kingdom of arles. the second and third of these dignities became purely formal with the decline of the empire in the th century. but the arch-chancellorship of germany remained to some extent a reality till the empire was finally dissolved in . the office continued to be attached to the archbishopric of mainz, which was an electorate. karl von dalberg, the last holder of the office, and the first prince primate of the confederation of the rhine, continued to act in show at least as chancellor of that body, and was after a fashion the predecessor of the _bundes kanzler_, or chancellor of the north german confederation. the duties imposed on the imperial chancery by the very complicated constitution of the empire were, however, discharged by a vice-chancellor who was attached to the court of the emperor. the abbot of fulda was chancellor to the empress. the house of austria in their hereditary dominions, and in those of their possessions which they treated as hereditary, even where the sovereignty was in theory elective, made a large and peculiar use of the title chancellor. the officers so called were of course distinct from the arch-chancellor and vice-chancellor of the empire, although the imperial crown became in practice hereditary in the house of habsburg. in the family states their administration was, to use a phrase familiar to the french, "polysynodic." as it was when fully developed, and as it remained until the march revolution of , it was conducted through boards presided over by a chancellor. there were three aulic chancellorships for the internal affairs of their dominions, "a united aulic chancellorship for all parts of the empire (i.e. of austria, not the holy roman) not belonging to hungary or transylvania, and a separate chancellorship for each of those last-mentioned provinces" (hartig, _genesis of the revolution in austria_). there were also a house, a court, and a state chancellor for the business of the imperial household and foreign affairs, who were not, however, the presidents of a board. these "aulic" (i.e. court) officers were in fact secretaries of the sovereign, and administrative or political rather than judicial in character, though the boards over which they presided controlled judicial as well as administrative affairs. in the case of such statesmen as kaunitz and metternich, who were house, court, and state chancellors as well as "united aulic" chancellors, the combination of offices made them in practice prime ministers, or rather lieutenants-general, of the sovereign. the system was subject to modifications, and in the end it broke down under its own complications. we are not dealing here with the confusing history of the austrian administration, and these details are only quoted to show how it happened that in austria the title chancellor came to mean a political officer and minister. there is obviously a vast difference between such an official as kaunitz, who as house, court, and state chancellor was minister of foreign affairs, and as "united aulic" chancellor had a general superiority over the whole machinery of government, and the lord high chancellor in england, the _chancelier_ in france, or the _canciller mayor_ in castile, though the title was the same. the development of the office in austria must be understood in order to explain the position and functions of the imperial chancellor (_reichs kanzler_) of the modern german empire. although the present empire is sometimes rhetorically and absurdly spoken of as a revival of the medieval empire, it is in reality an adaptation of the austrian empire, which was a continuation under a new name of the hereditary habsburg monarchy. the _reichs kanzler_ is the immediate successor of the _bundes kanzler_, or chancellor of the north german confederation (_bund_). but the _bundes kanzler_, who bore no sort of resemblance except in mere name to the _erz-kanzler_ of the old empire, was in a position not perhaps actually like that of prince kaunitz, but capable of becoming much the same thing. when the german empire was established in prince bismarck, who was _bundes kanzler_ and became _reichs kanzler_, took care that his position should be as like as possible to that of prince kaunitz or prince metternich. the constitution of the german empire is separately dealt with, but it may be pointed out here that the _reichs kanzler_ is the federal minister of the empire, the chief of the federal officials, and a great political officer, who directs the foreign affairs, and superintends the internal affairs, of the empire. in these german states the title of chancellor is also given as in france to government and diplomatic officials who do notarial duties and have charge of archives. the title of chancellor has naturally been widely used in the german and scandinavian states, and in russia since the reign of peter the great. it has there as elsewhere wavered between being a political and a judicial office. frederick the great of prussia created a _gross kanzler_ for judicial duties in . but there was in prussia a state chancellorship on the austrian model. it was allowed to lapse on the death of hardenberg in . the prussian chancellor after his time was one of the four court ministries (_hofämter_) of the prussian monarchy. authorities.--du cange, _glossarium_, s.v. "cancellarius"; w. stubbs, _const. hist. of england_ ( - ); rudolph gneist, _hist. of the english constitution_ (eng. trans., london, ); l.o. pike, _const. hist. of the house of lords_ (london, ); sir william r. anson, _the law and custom of the constitution_, vol. ii. part i. (oxford, ); a. luchaire, _manuel des institutions françaises_ (paris, ); k.f. stumpf, _die reichs kanzler_ ( vols., innsbruck, - ); g. sceliger, _erzkanzler und reichskanzleien_ (ib. ); p. hinschius, _kirchenrecht_ (berlin, ); sir r.j. phillimore, _eccles. law_ (london, ); p. pradier-fodéré, _cours de droit diplomatique_, ii. (paris, ). chancellorsville, a village of spottsylvania county, virginia, u.s.a., situated almost midway between washington and richmond. it was the central point of one of the greatest battles of the civil war, fought on the nd and rd of may , between the union army of the potomac under major-general hooker, and the confederate army of northern virginia under general lee. (see american civil war, and wilderness.) general "stonewall" jackson was mortally wounded in this battle. chance-medley (from the a.-fr. _chance-medlée_, a mixed chance, and not from _chaude-medlée_, a hot affray), an accident of a mixed character, an old term in english law for a form of homicide arising out of a sudden affray or quarrel. the homicide has not the characteristic of "malice prepense" which would raise the death to murder, nor the completely accidental nature which would reduce it to homicide by misadventure. it was practically identical, therefore, with manslaughter. chancery, in english law, the court of the lord chancellor of england, consolidated in along with the other superior courts in the supreme court of judicature. its origin is noticed under the head of chancellor. it has been customary to say that the court of chancery consists of two distinct tribunals--one a court of common law, the other a court of equity. from the former have issued all the original writs passing under the great seal, all commissions of sewers, lunacy, and the like--some of these writs being originally kept in a _hanaper_ or hamper (whence the "hanaper office"), and others in a little sack or bag (whence the "petty-bag office"). the court had likewise power to hold pleas upon _scire facias_ (q.v.) for repeal of letters patent, &c. "so little," says blackstone, "is commonly done on the common law side of the court that i have met with no traces of any writ of error being actually brought since the fourteenth year of queen elizabeth." the equitable jurisdiction of the court of chancery was founded on the supposed superiority of conscience and equity over the strict law. the appearance of equity in england is in harmony with the general course of legal history in progressive societies. what is remarkable is that, instead of being incorporated with or superseding the common law, it gave rise to a wholly independent set of tribunals. the english dislike of the civil law, and the tendency to follow precedent which has never ceased to characterize english lawyers, account for this unfortunate separation. the claims of equity in its earlier stages are well expressed in the little treatise called _doctor and student_, published in the reign of henry viii.:--"conscience never resisteth the law nor addeth to it, but only when the law is directly in itself against the _law of god_, or _law of reason_." so also king james, speaking in the star chamber, says: "where the rigour of the law in many cases will undo a subject, then the chancery tempers the law with equity, and so mixes mercy with justice, as it preserves a man from destruction." this theory of the essential opposition between law and equity, and of the natural superiority of the latter, remained long after equity had ceased to found itself on natural justice, and had become as fixed and rigid as the common law itself. the jealousy of the common lawyers came to a head in the time of lord ellesmere, when coke disputed the right of the chancery to give relief against a judgment of the court of queen's bench obtained by gross fraud and imposition. james i., after consultation, decided in favour of the court of equity. the substitution of lay for clerical chancellors is regarded by g. spence (_equitable jurisdiction of the court of chancery_, vols., - ) as having at first been unfortunate, inasmuch as the laymen were ignorant of the principles on which their predecessors had acted. lord nottingham ( - ) is usually credited with the first attempt to reduce the decisions of the court to order, and his work was continued by lord hardwicke ( - ). by the time of lord eldon equity had become fixed, and the judges, like their brethren in the common law courts, strictly followed the precedents. henceforward chancery and common law courts have exhibited the anomaly of two co-ordinate sets of tribunals, empowered to deal with the same matters, and compelled to proceed in many cases on wholly different principles. the court of chancery could in most cases prevent a person from taking advantage of a common law right, not approved of by its own system. but if a suitor chose to go to a court of common law, he might claim such unjust rights, and it required the special intervention of the court of equity to prevent his enforcing them. in many cases also a special application had to be made to chancery for facilities which were absolutely necessary to the successful conduct of a case at common law. another source of difficulty and annoyance was the uncertainty in many cases whether the chancery or common law courts were the proper tribunal, so that a suitor often found at the close of an expensive and protracted suit that he had mistaken his court and must go elsewhere for relief. attempts more or less successful were made to lessen those evils by giving the powers to both sets of courts; but down to the consolidation effected by the judicature act, the english judicial system justified the sarcasm of lord westbury, that one tribunal was set up to do injustice and another to stop it. the equitable jurisdiction of chancery was commonly divided into _exclusive_, _concurrent_ and _auxiliary_. chancery had exclusive jurisdiction when there were no forms of action by which relief could be obtained at law, in respect of rights which ought to be enforced. trusts were the most conspicuous example of this class. it also included the rights of married women, infants and lunatics. chancery had concurrent jurisdiction when the common law did not give _adequate_ relief, e.g. in cases of fraud, accident, mistake, specific performance of contracts, &c. it had auxiliary jurisdiction when the administrative machinery of the law courts was unable to procure the necessary evidence. the judicature act enacted (§ ) that in every civil cause or matter commenced in the high court of justice, law and equity should be administered by the high court of justice and the court of appeal respectively, according to the rules therein contained, which provide for giving effect in all cases to "equitable rights and other matters of equity." the th section declared the law hereafter to be administered in england on certain points, and ordained that "generally in all matters not hereinbefore particularly mentioned in which there is any conflict or variance between the rules of equity and the rules of the common law with reference to the same matter, the rules of equity shall prevail." the th section specifically assigned to the chancery division the following causes and matters:--the administration of the estates of deceased persons; the dissolution of partnerships, or the taking of partnership, or other accounts; the redemption or foreclosure of mortgages; the raising of portions, or other charges on land; the sale and distribution of the proceeds of property subject to any lien or charge; the execution of trusts, charitable or private; the rectification, or setting aside, or cancellation of deeds or other written instruments; the specific performance of contracts between vendors and purchasers of real estates, including contracts for leases; the partition or sale of real estates; the wardship of infants and the care of infants' estates. the chancery division originally consisted of the lord chancellor as president and the master of the rolls, and the three vice-chancellors. the master of the rolls was also a member of the court of appeal, but sir george jessel, who held that office when the new system came into force, regularly sat as a judge of first instance until , when, by the act of that year (sec. ), the master of the rolls became a member of the court of appeal only, and provision was made for the appointment of a judge to supply the vacancy thus occasioned (sec. ). sir james bacon ( - ) was the last survivor of the vice-chancellors. he retained his seat on the bench until the year , when he retired after more than seventeen years' judicial service. for some reason the solicitors, when they had the choice, preferred to bring their actions in the chancery division. the practice introduced by the judicature act of trying actions with oral evidence instead of affidavits, and the comparative inexperience of the chancery judges and counsel in that mode of trial, tended to lengthen the time required for the disposal of the business. demand was consequently made for more judges in the chancery division. by an act of the appointment of an additional judge in that division was authorized, and sir edward fry (afterwards better known as a lord justice) was appointed. in august the crown consented to the appointment of a new judge of the high court in the chancery division on an address from both houses of parliament, pursuant to the th section of the appellate jurisdiction act . the chancery division, therefore, consists of the lord chancellor and six puisne judges. the latter are styled and addressed in the same manner as was customary in the old common law courts.[ ] formerly there were only four judges of this division (being the successors of the master of the rolls and the three vice-chancellors) to whom chambers were attached. the fifth judge heard only causes with witnesses transferred to him from the overflowing of the lists of his four brethren. in each set of chambers there were three chief clerks, with a staff of assistant clerks under them. the chief clerks had no original jurisdiction, but heard applications only on behalf of the judge to whose chambers they belonged, and theoretically every suitor had the right to have his application heard by the judge himself in chambers. but the appointment of a sixth judge enabled the lord chancellor to carry out a reform recommended by a departmental committee which reported in . the great difficulty in the chancery division always was to secure the continuous hearing of actions with witnesses, as nearly one-half of the judge's time was taken up with cases adjourned to him from chambers and other administrative business and non-witness actions and motions. the interruption of a witness action for two or three days, particularly in a country case, occasioned great expense, and had other inconveniences. it was a simple remedy to link the judges in pairs with one list of causes and one set of chambers assigned to each pair. this reform was effected by the alteration of a few words in certain rules of court. there are therefore, only three sets of chambers, each containing four chief clerks, or, as they are now styled, masters of the supreme court, and one of the linked judges, by arrangement between themselves, continuously tries the witness actions in their common list, while the other attends in chambers, and also hears the motions, petitions, adjourned summonses and non-witness cases. although styled masters it does not appear that the chief clerks have any larger or different jurisdiction than they had before. they are still the representatives of and responsible to the judges to whom the chambers are attached. the judge may either hear an application in chambers, or may direct any matter which he thinks of sufficient importance to be argued before him in court, or a party may move in court to discharge an order made in chambers with a view to an appeal, but this is not required if the judge certifies that the matter was sufficiently discussed before him in chambers. under the existing rules of court many orders can now be made on summons in chambers which used formerly to require a suit or petition in court (see order lv. as to foreclosure, administration, payment out of money in court and generally). the judge is also enabled to decide any particular question arising in the administration of the estate of a deceased person or execution of the trusts of a settlement without directing administration of the whole estate or execution of the trusts generally by the court (order lv. rule ), and where an application for accounts is made by a dissatisfied beneficiary or creditor to order the accounts to be delivered out of court, and the application to stand over till it can be seen what questions (if any) arise upon the accounts requiring the intervention of the court (order lv. , a). delay and consequent worry and expense are thus saved to the parties, and, at the same time, a great deal of routine administration is got rid of and a larger portion of the judicial term can be devoted to hearing actions and deciding any question of importance in court. the work of the chambers staff of the judges has probably been increased; but, on the other hand, it has been lightened by the removal of the winding-up business. the chancery division has also inherited from the court of chancery a staff of registrars and taxing masters. in the united states "chancery" is generally used as the synonym of "equity." chancery practice is practice in cases of equity. chancery courts are equity courts (see equity). for the diplomatic sense of chancery (chancellery) see chancellor. footnote: [ ] the comte de franqueville comments on the misuse of the title "lord" in addressing judges as another anomaly which only adds to the confusion, but perhaps unnecessarily. according to foss (vol. viii. p. ) it was only in the th century that the judges began to be addressed by the title of "your lordship." in the year books (he adds) they are constantly addressed by the title of "sir." "sir, vous voyez bien," &c. chanda, a town and district of british india, in the nagpur division of the central provinces. in the town had a population of , . it is situated at the junction of the virai and jharpat rivers. it was the capital of the gond kingdom of chanda, which was established on the ruins of a hindu state in the th or th century, and survived until (see gondwana). the town is still surrounded by a stone wall ½m. in circuit. it has several old temples and tombs, and the district at large is rich in remains of antiquity. there are manufactures of cotton, silk, brass-ware and leather slippers, and a considerable local trade. the district of chanda has an area of , sq. m. excepting in the extreme west, hills are thickly dotted over the country, sometimes in detached ranges, occasionally in isolated peaks rising sheer out from the plain. towards the east they increase in height, and form a broad tableland, at places ft. above sea-level. the wainganga river flows through the district from north to south, meeting the wardha river at seoni, where their streams unite to form the pranhita. chanda is thickly studded with fine tanks, or rather artificial lakes, formed by closing the outlets of small valleys, or by throwing a dam across tracts intersected by streams. the broad clear sheets of water thus created are often very picturesque in their surroundings of wood and rock. the chief architectural objects of interest are the cave temples at bhandak, winjbasani, dewala and ghugus; a rock temple in the bed of the wardha river below ballalpur; the ancient temples at markandi, ambgaon and elsewhere; the forts of wairagarh and ballalpur; and the old walls of the city of chanda, its system of waterworks, and the tombs of the gond kings. in the population was , , showing a decrease of % in the decade. the principal crops are rice, millet, pulse, wheat, oil-seeds and cotton. the district contains the coalfield of warora, which was worked by government till , when it was closed. other fields are known, and iron ores also occur. the district suffered severely from famine in , when in april the number of persons relieved rose to , . chandausi, a town of british india, in the moradabad district of the united provinces, m. south of moradabad. pop. ( ) , . it is an important station on the oudh & rohilkhand railway, with a junction for aligarh. its chief exports are of cotton, hemp, sugar and stone. there is a factory for pressing cotton. chand bardai (fl. c. ), hindu poet, was a native of lahore, but lived at the court of prithwi raja (prithiraj), the last hindu sovereign of delhi. his _prithiraj rasau_, a poem of some , stanzas, chronicling his master's deeds and the contemporary history of his part of india, is valuable not only as historical material but as the earliest monument of the western hindi language, and the first of the long series of bardic chronicles for which rajputana is celebrated. it is written in ballad form, and portions of it are still sung by itinerant bards throughout north-western india and rajputana. see lieut.-col. james tod, _annals and antiquities of rajast'han_ ( vols., london, - ; repub. by lalit mohan auddy, vols. ib., - ), where good translations are given. chandelier, a frame of metal, wood, crystal, glass or china, pendent from roof or ceiling for the purpose of holding lights. the word is french, but the appliance has lost its original significance of a candle-holder, the chandelier being now chiefly used for gas and electric lighting. clusters of hanging lights were in use as early as the th century, and appear originally to have been almost invariably of wood. they were, however, so speedily ruined by grease that metal was gradually subsituted, and fine and comparatively early examples in beaten iron, brass, copper and even silver are still extant. throughout the th century the hanging candle-holder of brass or bronze was common throughout northern europe, as innumerable pictures and engravings testify. in the great periods of the art of decoration in france many magnificent chandeliers were made by boulle, and at a later date by gouthière and thomire and others among the extraordinarily clever _fondeurs-ciseleurs_ of the second half of the th century. the chandelier in rock crystal and its imitations had come in at least a hundred years before their day, and continued in favour to the middle of the th century, or even somewhat later. it reached at last the most extreme elaboration of banality, with ropes of pendants and hanging faceted drops often called lustres. when many lights were burning in one of these chandeliers an effect of splendour was produced that was not out of place in a ballroom, but the ordinary household varieties were extremely ugly and inartistic. the more purely domestic chandelier usually carries from two to six lights. the rapidly growing use of electricity as an illuminating medium and the preference for smaller clusters of lights have, however, pushed into the background an appliance which had grown extremely commonplace in design, and had become out of character with modern ideas of household decoration. chandernagore, or chandarnagar, a french settlement in india, with a small adjoining territory, situated on the right bank of the river hugli, m. above calcutta, in ° ' " n, and ° ' " e. area sq. m.; pop. ( ) , . chandernagore has played an important part in the european history of bengal. it became a permanent french settlement, in , but did not rise to any importance till the time of dupleix, during whose administration more than two thousand brick houses were erected in the town and a considerable maritime trade was carried on. in chandernagore was bombarded by an english fleet under admiral watson and captured; the fortifications and houses were afterwards demolished. on peace being established the town was restored to the french in . when hostilities afterwards broke out in , it was again taken possession of by the english, and was held by them till , when it was a second time given up to the french; it has ever since remained in their possession. all the former commercial grandeur of chandernagore has now passed away, and at present it is little more than a quiet suburb of calcutta, without any external trade. the european town is situated at the bottom of a beautiful reach of the hugli, with clean wide thoroughfares, and many elegant residences along the river-bank. the authorities of chandernagore are subject to the jurisdiction of the governor-general of pondicherry, to whom is confided the general government of all the french possessions in india. chandler, henry william ( - ), english scholar, was born in london on the st of january . in he entered pembroke college, oxford, where he was elected fellow in . in he succeeded h.l. mansel as waynflete professor of moral and metaphysical philosophy, and in was appointed curator of the bodleian library. he died by his own hand in oxford on the th of may . he was chiefly known as an aristotelian scholar, and his knowledge of the greek commentators on aristotle was profound. he collected a vast amount of material for an edition of the fragments of his favourite author, but on the appearance of valentine rose's work in he abandoned the idea. two works on the bibliography of aristotle, _a catalogue of editions of aristotle's nicomachean ethics and of works illustrative of them printed in the th century_ ( ), and _a chronological index to editions of aristotle's nicomachean ethics, and of works illustrative of them from the origin of printing to _ ( ), are of great value. chandler's collection of works on aristotelian literature is now in the library of pembroke college. his _practical introduction to greek accentuation_ ( , ed. min. ) is the standard work in english. chandler, richard ( - ), british antiquary, was born in at elson in hampshire, and educated at winchester and at queen's and magdalen colleges, oxford. his first work consisted of fragments from the minor greek poets, with notes (_elegiaca graeca_, ); and in he published a fine edition of the arundelian marbles, _marmora oxoniensia_, with a latin translation, and a number of suggestions for supplying the lacunae. he was sent by the dilettanti society with nicholas revett, an architect, and pars, a painter, to explore the antiquities of ionia and greece ( - ); and the result of their work was the two magnificent folios of ionian antiquities published in . he subsequently held several church preferments, including the rectory of tylehurst, in berkshire, where he died on the th of february . other works by chandler were _inscriptiones antiquae pleraeque nondum editae_ (oxford, ); _travels in asia minor_ ( ); _travels in greece_ ( ); _history of ilium_ ( ), in which he asserted the accuracy of homer's geography. his _life of bishop waynflete_, lord high chancellor to henry vi., appeared in . a complete edition (with notes by revett) of the _travels in asia minor and greece_ was published by r. churton (oxford, ), with an "account of the author." chandler, samuel ( - ), english nonconformist divine, was born in at hungerford, in berkshire, where his father was a minister. he was sent to school at gloucester, where he began a lifelong friendship with bishop butler and archbishop secker; and he afterwards studied at leiden. his talents and learning were such that he was elected fellow of the royal and antiquarian societies, and was made d.d. of edinburgh and glasgow. he also received offers of high preferment in the church of england. these he refused, remaining to the end of his life in the position of a presbyterian minister. he was moderately calvinistic in his views and leaned towards arianism. he took a leading part in the deist controversies of the time, and discussed with some of the bishops the possibility of an act of comprehension. from to he preached at peckham, and for forty years he was pastor of a meeting-house in old jewry. during two or three years, having fallen into pecuniary distress through the failure of the south sea scheme, he kept a book-shop in the poultry. on the death of george ii. in chandler published a sermon in which he compared that king to king david. this view was attacked in a pamphlet entitled _the history of the man after god's own heart_, in which the author complained of the parallel as an insult to the late king, and, following pierre bayle, exhibited king david as an example of perfidy, lust and cruelty. chandler condescended to reply first in a review of the tract ( ) and then in _a critical history of the life of david_, which is perhaps the best of his productions. this work was just completed when he died, on the th of may . he left vols. of sermons ( ), and a paraphrase of the epistles to the galatians and ephesians ( ), several works on the evidences of christianity, and various pamphlets against roman catholicism. chandler, zachariah ( - ), american politician, was born at bedford, new hampshire, on the th of december . in he removed to detroit, michigan, where he became a prosperous dry-goods merchant. he took a prominent part as a whig in politics (serving as mayor in ), and, impelled by his strong anti-slavery views, actively furthered the work of the "underground railroad," of which detroit was one of the principal "transfer" points. he was one of the organizers in michigan of the republican party, and in succeeded lewis cass in the united states senate, serving until , and at once taking his stand with the most radical opponents of slavery extension. when the civil war became inevitable he endeavoured to impress upon the north the necessity of taking extraordinary measures for the preservation of the union. after the fall of fort sumter he advocated the enlistment of , instead of , men for a long instead of a short term, and the vigorous enforcement of confiscation measures. in july he made a bitter attack in the senate on general george b. mcclellan, charging him with incompetency and lack of "nerve." throughout the war he allied himself with the most radical of the republican faction in opposition to president lincoln's policy, and subsequently became one of the bitterest opponents of president johnson's plan of reconstruction. from october to march he was secretary of the interior in the cabinet of president grant, succeeding columbus delano ( - ). in , as chairman of the national republican committee, he managed the campaign of hayes against tilden. in february he was re-elected to the senate to succeed isaac p. christiancy ( - ), and soon afterwards, in a speech concerning mexican war pensions, bitterly denounced jefferson davis. he died at chicago, illinois, on the st of november . by his extraordinary force of character he exercised a wide personal influence during his lifetime, but failed to stamp his personality upon any measure or policy of lasting importance. chandos, barons and dukes of. the english title of chandos began as a barony in , and was continued in the family of brydges (becoming a dukedom in ) till . in the dukedom was revived in connexion with that of buckingham. john brydges, st baron chandos (c. - ), a son of sir giles brydges, or bruges (d. ), was a prominent figure at the english court during the reigns of henry viii., edward vi. and mary. he took part in suppressing the rebellion of sir thomas wyat in , and as lieutenant of the tower of london during the earlier part of mary's reign, had the custody, not only of lady jane grey and of wyat, but for a short time of the princess elizabeth. he was created baron chandos of sudeley in , one of his ancestors, alice, being a grand-daughter of sir thomas chandos (d. ), and he died in march . the three succeeding barons, direct descendants of the st baron, were all members of parliament and persons of some importance. grey, th baron chandos (c. - ), lord-lieutenant of gloucestershire, was called the "king of the cotswolds," owing to his generosity and his magnificent style of living at his residence, sudeley castle. he has been regarded by horace walpole and others as the author of some essays, _horae subsecivae_. his elder son george, th baron chandos ( - ), was a supporter of charles i. during his struggle with parliament, and distinguished himself at the first battle of newbury in . he had six daughters but no sons, and after the death of his brother william in the barony came to a kinsman, sir james brydges, bart. ( - ), who was english ambassador to constantinople from to . james brydges, st duke of chandos ( - ), son and heir of the last-named, had been member of parliament for hereford from to , and, three days after his father's death, was created viscount wilton and earl of carnarvon. for eight years, from to , during the war of the spanish succession, he was paymaster-general of the forces abroad, and in this capacity he amassed great wealth. in he was created marquess of carnarvon and duke of chandos. the duke is chiefly remembered on account of his connexion with handel and with pope. he built a magnificent house at canons near edgware in middlesex, and is said to have contemplated the construction of a private road between this place and his unfinished house in cavendish square, london. for over two years handel, employed by chandos, lived at canons, where he composed his oratorio _esther_. pope, who in his _moral essays_ (_epistle to the earl of burlington_) doubtless described canons under the guise of "timon's villa," referred to the duke in the line, "thus gracious chandos is belov'd at sight"; but swift, less complimentary, called him "a great complier with every court." the poet was caricatured by hogarth for his supposed servility to the duke. chandos, who was lord-lieutenant of the counties of hereford and radnor, and chancellor of the university of st andrews, became involved in financial difficulties, and after his death on the th of august canons was pulled down. he was succeeded by his son henry, nd duke ( - ), and grandson james, rd duke ( - ). on the death of the latter without sons in september all his titles, except that of baron kinloss, became extinct, although a claimant arose for the barony of chandos of sudeley. the rd duke's only daughter, anna elizabeth, who became baroness kinloss on her father's death, was married in to richard grenville, afterwards marquess of buckingham; and in this nobleman was created duke of buckingham and chandos (see buckingham, dukes of). see g.e. c(okayne), _complete peerage_ ( - ); and j.r. robinson, _the princely chandos_, i.e. the st duke ( ). chandos, sir john (?- ), one of the most celebrated english commanders of the th century. he is found at the siege of cambrai in , and at the battle of crécy in . at the battle of poitiers, in , it was he who decided the day and saved the life of the black prince. for these services edward iii. made him a knight of the garter, gave him the lands of the viscount of saint sauveur in cotentin, and appointed him his lieutenant in france and vice-chamberlain of the royal household. in he was made constable of aquitaine, and won the victories of auray ( ) and navaret in spain ( ) over duguesclin. he was seneschal of poitou in , and was mortally wounded at the bridge of lussac near poitiers on the st of december. he died on the following day, the st of january . see benjamin fillon, "john chandos, connétable d'aquitaine et sénéchal de poitou," in the _revue des provinces de l'ouest_ ( ). chandragupta maurya (reigned - b.c.), known to the greeks as sandracottus, founder of the maurya empire and first paramount ruler of india, was the son of a king of magadha by a woman of humble origin, whose caste he took, and whose name, mura, is said to have been the origin of that of maurya assumed by his dynasty. as a youth he was driven into exile by his kinsman, the reigning king of magadha. in the course of his wanderings he met alexander the great, and, according to plutarch (_alexander_, cap. ), encouraged him to invade the ganges kingdom by enlarging on the extreme unpopularity of the reigning monarch. during his exile he collected a large force of the warlike clans of the north-west frontier, and on the death of alexander attacked the macedonian garrisons and conquered the punjab. he next attacked magadha, dethroned and slew the king, his enemy, with every member of his family, and established himself on the throne ( ). the great army acquired from his predecessor he increased until it reached the total of , cavalry, elephants, and , infantry; and with this huge force he overran all northern india, establishing his empire from the arabian sea to the bay of bengal. in seleucus nicator crossed the indus, but was defeated by chandragupta and forced to a humiliating peace ( ), by which the empire of the latter was still farther extended in the north. about six years later chandragupta died, leaving his empire to his son bindusura. an excellent account of the court and administrative system of chandragupta has been preserved in the fragments of megasthenes, who came to pataliputra as the envoy of seleucus shortly after . the government was, of course, autocratic and even tyrannous, but it was organized on an elaborate system, army and civil service being administered by a series of boards, while the cities were governed by municipal commissioners responsible for public order and the upkeep of public works. chandragupta himself is described as living in barbaric splendour, appearing in public only to hear causes, offer sacrifice, or to go on military and hunting expeditions, and withal so fearful of assassination that he never slept two nights running in the same room. see j.w. maccrindle, _ancient india as described by megasthenes and arrian_ (calcutta, ); v.a. smith, _early hist. of india_ (oxford, ); also the articles india: _history_, and inscriptions: _indian_. changarnier, nicolas anne thÉodule ( - ), french general, was born at autun on the th of april . educated at st cyr, he served for a short time in the bodyguard of louis xviii., and entered the line as a lieutenant in january . he achieved distinction in the spanish campaign of , and became captain in . in he entered the royal guard and was sent to africa, where he took part in the mascara expedition. promoted commandant in , he distinguished himself under marshal clausel in the campaign against ahmed pasha, bey of constantine, and became lieutenant-colonel in . the part he took in the expedition of portes-de-fer gained him a colonelcy, and his success against the hajutas and kabyles, the cross of the legion of honour. three more years of brilliant service in africa won for him the rank of _maréchal de camp_ in , and of lieutenant-general in . in he held the algiers divisional command. he visited france early in , assisted the provisional government to establish order, and returned to africa in may to succeed general cavaignac in the government of algeria. he was speedily recalled on his election to the general assembly for the department of the seine, and received the command of the national guard of paris, to which was added soon afterwards that of the troops in paris, altogether nearly , men. he held a high place and exercised great influence in the complicated politics of the next two years. in he received the grand cross of the legion of honour. an avowed enemy of republican institutions, he held a unique position in upholding the power of the president; but in january he opposed louis napoleon's policy, was in consequence deprived of his double command, and at the _coup d'état_ in december was arrested and sent to mazas, until his banishment from france by the decree of the th of january . he returned to france after the general amnesty, and resided in his estate in the department of saône-et-loire. in he held no command, but was present with the headquarters, and afterwards with bazaine in metz. he was employed on an unsuccessful mission to prince frederick charles, commanding the german army which besieged metz, and on the capitulation became a prisoner of war. at the armistice he returned to paris, and in was elected to the national assembly by four departments, and sat for the somme. he took an active part in politics, defended the conduct of marshal bazaine, and served on the committee which elaborated the monarchical constitution. when the comte de chambord refused the compromise, he moved the resolution to extend the executive power for ten years to marshal macmahon. he was elected a life senator in . he died in paris on the th of february . chang-chow, a town of china, in the province of fu-kien, on a branch of the lung kiang, m. w. of amoy. it is surrounded by a wall ½ m. in circumference, which, however, includes a good deal of open ground. the streets are paved with granite, but are very dirty. the river is crossed by a curious bridge, ft. long, constructed of wooden planks supported on twenty-five piles of stones about ft. apart. the city is a centre of the silk-trade, and carries on an extensive commerce in different directions. brick-works and sugar-factories are among its chief industrial establishments. its population is estimated at about , , . chang chun, kiu ( - ), chinese taoist sage and traveller, was born in . in he was invited by jenghiz khan, founder of the mongol empire and greatest of asiatic conquerors, to visit him. jenghiz' letter of invitation, dated the th of may (by present reckoning), has been preserved, and is among the curiosities of history; here the terrible warrior appears as a meek disciple of wisdom, modest and simple, almost socratic in his self-examination, alive to many of the deepest truths of life and government. chang chun obeyed this summons; and leaving his home in shantung (february ) journeyed first to peking. learning that jenghiz had gone far west upon fresh conquests, the sage stayed the winter in peking. in february he started again and crossed eastern mongolia to the camp of jenghiz' brother ujughen, near lake bör or buyur in the upper basin of the kerulun-amur. thence he travelled south-westward up the kerulun, crossed the karakorum region in north-central mongolia, and so came to the chinese altai, probably passing near the present uliassutai. after traversing the altai he visited bishbalig, answering to the modern urumtsi, and moved along the north side of the tian shan range to lake sairam, almalig (or kulja), and the rich valley of the ili. we then trace him to the chu, over this river to talas and the tashkent region, and over the jaxartes (or syr daria) to samarkand, where he halted for some months. finally, through the "iron gates" of termit, over the oxus, and by way of balkh and northern afghanistan, chang chun reached jenghiz' camp near the hindu kush. returning home he followed much the same course as on his outward route: certain deviations, however, occur, such as a visit to kuku-khoto. he was back in peking by the end of january . from the narrative of his expedition (the _si yu ki_, written by his pupil and companion li chi chang) we derive some of the most faithful and vivid pictures ever drawn of nature and man between the great wall of china and kabul, between the aral and the yellow sea: we may particularly notice the sketches of the mongols, and of the people of samarkand and its neighbourhood; the account of the fertility and products of the latter region, as of the ili valley, at or near almalig-kulja; and the description of various great mountain ranges, peaks and defiles, such as the chinese altai, the tian shan, mt bogdo-ola (?), and the iron gates of termit. there is, moreover, a noteworthy reference to a land apparently identical with the uppermost valley of the yenisei. after his return chang chun lived at peking till his death on the rd of july . by order of jenghiz some of the former imperial garden grounds were made over to him, for the foundation of a taoist monastery. see e. bretschneider, _mediaeval researches from eastern asiatic sources_, vol. i. pp. - , where a complete translation of the narrative is given, with a valuable commentary; c.r. beazley _dawn of modern geography_, iii. . (c. r. b.) change (derived through the fr. from the late lat. _cambium, cambiare_, to barter; the ultimate derivation is probably from the root which appears in the gr. [greek: kamptein], to bend), properly the substitution of one thing for another, hence any alteration or variation, so applied to the moon's passing from one phase to another. the use of the word for a place of commercial business has usually been taken to be a shortened form of exchange (q.v.) and so is often written 'change. the _new english dictionary_ points out that "change" appears earlier than "exchange" in this sense. "change" is particularly used of coins of lower denomination given in substitution for those of larger denomination or for a note, cheque, &c., and also for the balance of a sum paid larger than that which is due. a further application is that in bell-ringing, of the variations in order in which a peal of bells may be rung. the term usually excludes the ringing of the bells according to the diatonic scale in which they are hung (see bell). it is from a combination of these two meanings that the thieves' slang phrase "ringing the changes" arises; it denotes the various methods by which wrong change may be given or extracted, or counterfeit coin passed. changeling, the term used of a child substituted or changed for another, especially in the case of substitutions popularly supposed to be through fairy agency. there was formerly a widespread superstition that infants were sometimes stolen from their cradles by the fairies. any specially peevish or weakly baby was regarded as a changeling, the word coming at last to be almost synonymous with imbecility. it was thought that the elves could only effect the exchange before christening, and in the highlands of scotland babies were strictly watched till then. strype states that in his time midwives had to take an oath binding themselves to be no party to the theft or exchange of babies. the belief is referred to by shakespeare, spenser and other authors. pennant, writing in , says: "in this very century a poor cottager, who lived near the spot, had a child who grew uncommonly peevish; the parents attributed this to the fairies and imagined it was a changeling. they took the child, put it in a cradle, and left it all night beneath the "fairy oak" in hopes that the _tylwydd têg_ or fairy family would restore their own before morning. when morning came they found the child perfectly quiet, so went away with it, quite confirmed in their belief" (_tour in scotland_, , p. ). see w. wirt sikes, _british goblins_ ( ). changos, a tribe of south american indians who appear to have originally inhabited the peruvian coast. a few of them still live on the coast of atacama, northern chile. they are a dwarfish race, never exceeding ft. in height. their sole occupation is fishing, and in former times they used boats of inflated sealskins, lived in sealskin huts, and slept on heaps of dried seaweed. they are a hospitable and friendly people, and never resisted the whites. changra, or kanghari (anc. _gangra_; called also till the time of caracalla, _germanicopolis_, after the emperor claudius), the chief town of a sanjak of the same name in the kastamuni vilayet, asia minor, situated in a rich, well-watered valley; altitude ft. the ground is impregnated with salt, and the town is unhealthy. pop. ( ) , , of whom are christians (cuinet). gangra, the capital of the paphlagonian kingdom of deiotarus philadelphus, son of castor, was taken into the roman province of galatia on his death in - b.c. the earlier town, the name of which signified "she-goat," was built on the hill behind the modern city, on which are the ruins of a late fortress; while the roman city occupied the site of the modern. in christian times gangra was the metropolitan see of paphlagonia. in the th century the town was the scene of an important ecclesiastical synod. _synod of gangra._--conjectures as to the date of this synod vary from to . all that can be affirmed with certainty is that it was held about the middle of the th century. the synodal letter states that twenty-one bishops assembled to take action concerning eustathius (of sebaste?) and his followers, who contemned marriage, disparaged the offices of the church, held conventicles of their own, wore a peculiar dress, denounced riches, and affected especial sanctity. the synod condemned the eustathian practices, declaring however, with remarkable moderation, that it was not virginity that was condemned, but the dishonouring of marriage; not poverty, but the disparagement of honest and benevolent wealth; not asceticism, but spiritual pride; not individual piety, but dishonouring the house of god. the twenty canons of gangra were declared ecumenical by the council of chalcedon, . see mansi ii. pp. - ; hardouin i. pp. - ; hefele nd ed., i. pp. sqq. (english trans. ii. pp. sqq.). channel islands (french _Îles normandes_), a group of islands in the english channel, belonging (except the Îles chausey) to great britain. (for map, see england, section vi.) they lie between ° ' and ° ' n., and ° ' and ° ' w., along the french coast of cotentin (department of manche), at a distance of to m. from it, within the great rectangular bay of which the northward horn is cape la hague. the greater part of this bay is shallow, and the currents among the numerous groups of islands and rocks are often dangerous to navigation. the nearest point of the english coast to the channel islands is portland bill, a little over m. north of the northernmost outlier of the islands. the total land area of the islands is about sq. m. ( , acres), and the population in was , . the principal individual islands are four:--jersey (area sq. m., pop. , ), guernsey (area . sq. m., pop. , ), alderney (area . sq. m., pop. ), and sark (area nearly sq. m., pop. ). each of these islands is treated in a separate article. the chief town and port of jersey is st helier, and of guernsey st peter port; a small town on alderney is called st anne. regular communication by steamer with guernsey and jersey is provided on alternate days from southampton and weymouth, by steamers of the london & south-western and great western railway companies of england. railway communications within the islands are confined to jersey. regular steamship communications are kept up from certain french ports, and locally between the larger islands. in summer the islands, especially jersey, guernsey and sark, are visited by numerous tourists, both from england and from france. the islands fall physically into four divisions. the northernmost, lying due west of cape la hague, and separated therefrom by the narrow race of alderney, includes that island, burhou and ortach, and numerous other islets west of it, and west again the notorious casquets, an angry group of jagged rocks, on the largest of which is a powerful lighthouse. doubtful tradition places here the wreck of the "white ship," in which william, son of henry i., perished in ; in the "victory," a british man-of-war, struck on one of the rocks, and among calamities of modern times the wreck of the "stella," a passenger vessel, in , may be recalled. the second division of islands is also the most westerly; it includes guernsey with a few islets to the west, and to the east, sark, herm, jethou (inhabited islands) and others. the strait between guernsey and herm is called little russel, and that between herm and sark great russel. sark is famous for its splendid cliffs and caves, while herm possesses the remarkable phenomenon of a shell-beach, or shore, half-a-mile in length, formed wholly of small shells, which accumulate in a tidal eddy formed at the north of the island. to the south-east of these, across the channel called la déroute, lies jersey, forming, with a few attendant islets, of which the ecréhou to the north-east are the chief, the third division. the fourth and southernmost division falls into two main subdivisions. the minquiers, the more western, are a collection of abrupt rocks, the largest of which, maîtresse ile, affords a landing and shelter for fishermen. then eastern subdivision, the Îles chausey, lies about m. west by north of granville (to which commune they belong) on the french coast, and belongs to france. these rocks are close set, low and curiously regular in form. on grande ile, the only permanently inhabited island (pop. ), some farming is carried on, and several of the islets are temporarily inhabited by fishermen. there is also a little granite-quarrying, and seaweed-burning employs many. none of the islands is mountainous, and the fine scenery for which they are famous is almost wholly coastal. in this respect each main island has certain distinctive characteristics. bold cliffs are found on the south of alderney; in guernsey they alternate with lovely bays; sark is specially noted for its magnificent sea-caves, while the coast scenery of jersey is on the whole more gentle than the rest. _geology_.--geologically, the channel islands are closely related to the neighbouring mainland of normandy. with a few exceptions, to be noted later, all the rocks are of pre-cambrian, perhaps in part of archean age. they consist of massive granites, gneisses, diorites, porphyrites, schists and phyllites, all of which are traversed by dykes and veins. in jersey we find in the north-west corner a granitic tract extending from grosnez to st mary and st john, beyond which it passes into a small granulitic patch. south of the granites is a schistose area, by st ouen and st lawrence, and reaching to st aubin's bay. granitic masses again appear round st brelade's bay. the eastern half of the island is largely occupied by porphyrites and similar rocks (hornstone porphyry) with rhyolites and denitrified obsidians; some of the latter contain large spherulites with a diameter of as much as in.; these are well exposed in bouley bay; a complex igneous and intrusive series of rocks lies around st helier. in the north-east corner of the island a conglomerate, possibly of cambrian age, occurs between bouley bay and st catherine's bay. tracts of blown-sand cover the ground for some distance north of st clement's bay and again east of st ouen's bay. in the sea off the latter bay a submerged forest occurs. the northern half of guernsey is mainly dioritic, the southern half, below st peter, is occupied by gneisses. several patches of granite and granulite fringe the western coast, the largest of these is a hornblende granite round rocquaine bay. hornblende gneiss from st sampson and quartz diorite from capelles, corvée and elsewhere are transported to england for road metal. sark is composed almost wholly of hornblende-schists and gneisses with hornblendic granite at the north end of the island, in little sark and in the middle of bréchou. dykes of diabase and diorite are abundant. alderney consists mainly of hornblende granite and granulite, which are covered on the east by two areas of sandstone which may be of cambrian age. an enstatite-augite-diorite is sent from alderney for road-making. besides the submerged forest on the coast of jersey already mentioned, there are similar occurrences near st peter port and st sampson's harbour, and in vazon bay in guernsey. raised beaches are to be seen at several points in the islands. _climate_.--the climate is mild and very pleasant. in jersey the mean temperature for twenty years is found to be--in january (the coldest month) . ° f., in august (the hottest) °, mean annual . °. in guernsey the figures are, for january . °, for august . °, mean annual . °. the mean annual rainfall for twenty-five years in jersey is . in., and in guernsey . in. the average amount of sunshine in jersey is considerably greater than in the most favoured spots on the south coast of england; and in guernsey it is only a little less than in jersey. snow and frost are rare, and the seasons of spring and autumn are protracted. thick sea-fogs are not uncommon, especially in may and june. _flora and fauna._--the flora of the islands is remarkably rich, considering their extent, nearly different species of plants having been counted throughout the group. of timber properly speaking there is little, but the evergreen oak, the elm and the beech are abundant. wheat is the principal grain in cultivation; but far more ground is taken up with turnips and potatoes, mangold, parsnip and carrot. the tomato ripens as in france, and the chinese yam has been successfully grown. there is a curious cabbage, chiefly cultivated in jersey, which shoots up into a long woody stalk from to ft. in height, fit for walking-sticks or palisades. grapes and peaches come to perfection in greenhouses without artificial heat; and not only apples and pears but oranges and figs can be reared in the open air. the arbutus ripens its fruit, and the camellia clothes itself with blossom, as in more southern climates; the fuchsia reaches a height of or ft., and the magnolia attains the dimensions of a tree. of the flowers, both indigenous and exotic, that abound throughout the islands, it is sufficient to mention the guernsey lily with its rich red petals, which is supposed to have been brought from japan. the number of the species of the mammalia is little over twenty, and several of these have been introduced by man. there is a special breed of horned cattle, and each island has its own variety, which is carefully kept from all intermixture. the animals are small and delicate, and marked by a peculiar yellow colour round the eyes and within the ears. the red deer was once indigenous, and the black rat is still common in alderney, sark and herm. the list of birds includes nearly species, nearly of which are permanent inhabitants of the islands. there are few localities in the northern seas which are visited by a greater variety of fish, and the coasts abound in crustacea, shell-fish and zoophytes. _government_.--for the purposes of government the channel islands (excluding the french chauseys) are divided into two divisions:--( ) jersey, and ( ) the bailiwick of guernsey, which includes alderney, sark, herm and jethou with the island of guernsey. the constitutions of each division are peculiar and broadly similar, but differing in certain important details; they may therefore be considered together for the sake of comparison. until governors were appointed by the crown; now a separate military lieutenant-governor is appointed for each division on the recommendation of the war office after consultation with the home office. the other crown officials are the bailiff (_bailli_) or chief magistrate, the _procureur du roi_, representing the attorney-general, and the _avocat du roi_, or in guernsey the _contrôle_, representing the solicitor-general. in jersey the _vicomte_ is also appointed by the crown, in the position of a high sheriff (and coroner); but his counterpart in guernsey, the _prévôt_, is not so appointed. the bailiff in each island is president of the royal court, which is composed of twelve jurats, elected for life, in jersey by the ratepayers of each parish, in guernsey by the elective states, a body which also elects the _prévôt_, who, with the jurats, serves upon it. the rest of the body is made up of the rectors of the parishes, the _douzaines_, or elected parish councils ("dozens," from the original number of their members) of the town parish of st peter port, the four cantons, and the county parishes, and certain other officials. the royal court administers justice (but in jersey there is a trial by jury for criminal cases), and in guernsey can pass temporary ordinances subject to no higher body. it also puts forward _projets de loi_ for the approval of the deliberative states. alderney and sark have a separate legal existence with courts dependent on the royal court of guernsey. in both jersey and guernsey the chief administrative body is the deliberative states. the jersey states is composed of the lieutenant-governor (who has a veto on the deliberation of any question, but no vote), the bailiff, jurats, parish rectors, parish constables and deputies, the _procureur_ and _avocat_, with right to speak but no vote, and the _vicomte_, with right of attendance only. besides the veto of the lieutenant-governor, the bailiff has the power to dissent from any measure, in which case it is referred to the privy council. in guernsey the states consists of the bailiff, jurats, eight out of ten rectors, the _procureur_ and deputies; while the lieutenant-governor is always invited and may speak if he attends. by both states local administration is carried on (largely through committees); and relations with the british parliament are maintained through the privy council. acts of parliament are transmitted to the islands by an order in council to be registered in the rolls of the royal court, and are not considered to be binding until this is done; moreover, registration may be held over pending discussion by the states if any act is considered to menace the privileges of the islands. the right of the crown to legislate by order in council is held to be similarly limited. in cases of encroachment on property, a remarkable form of appeal of very ancient origin called _clameur de haro_ survives (see haro, clameur de). the islands are in the diocese of winchester, and there is a dean in both jersey and guernsey, who is also rector of a parish. these peculiar constitutions are of local development, the history of which is obscure. the bailiff was originally assisted in his judicial work by itinerant justices; their place was later taken by the elected jurats; later still the practice of summoning the states to assist in the passing of ordinances was established by the bailiff and jurats, and at last the states claimed the absolute right of being consulted. this was confirmed to them in . it is characteristic of these islands that there should be compulsory service in the militia. in jersey and alderney every man between the ages of sixteen and forty-five is liable, but in jersey after ten years' service militiamen are transferred to the reserve. in guernsey the age limit is from sixteen to thirty-three, and the obligation is extended to all who are british subjects, and draw income from a profession practised in the island. garrisons of regular troops are maintained in all three islands. taxation is light in the islands, and pauperism is practically unknown. in the revenue of jersey was £ , , and its expenditure £ , ; the revenue of guernsey was £ , , and the expenditure £ , . the public debt in the respective islands was £ , and £ , . in jersey the annual revenues from crown rights (principally seigneurial dues, houses and lands and tithes) amount to about £ , and about £ is remitted to the paymaster-general. in guernsey these revenues, in which the principal item is fines on transference of property (_treizièmes_ or fees), amount to about £ , and about £ is remitted. in alderney the revenues (chiefly from harbour dues) amount to about £ . in jersey the english gold and silver coinage are current, but there is a local copper coinage and local one-pound notes are issued. guernsey has also such notes, and its copper coinage consists of pence, halfpence, two-double and one-double (one-eighth of a penny) pieces. a guernsey pound is taken as equal to francs, and english and french currency pass equally throughout the islands. _industry_.--the old norman system of land-tenure has survived, and the land is parcelled out among a great number of small proprietors; holdings ranging from to acres as a rule. the results of this arrangement seem to be favourable in the extreme. every corner of the ground is carefully and intelligently cultivated, and a considerable proportion is allotted to market-gardening. the cottages are neat and comfortable, the hedges well-trimmed, and the roads kept in excellent repair. there is a considerable export trade in agricultural produce and stock, including vegetables and fruit, in fish (the fisheries forming an important industry) and in stone. there is no manufacture of importance. the inhabitants share in common the right of collecting and burning seaweed (called _vraic_) for manure. the cutting of the weed (vraicking) became a ceremonial occasion, taking place at times fixed by the government, and connected with popular festivities. _language_.--the language spoken in ordinary life by the inhabitants of the islands is in great measure the same as the old norman french. the use of the _patois_ has decreased naturally in modern times. modern french is the official language, used in the courts and states, and english is taught in the parochial schools, and is familiar practically to all. the several islands have each its own dialect, differing from that of the others in vocabulary and idiom; differences are also observable in different localities within the same island, as between the north and the south of guernsey. none of the dialects has received much literary cultivation, though jersey is proud of being the birthplace of one of the principal norman poets, wace, who flourished in the th century. _history_.--the original ethnology and pre-christian history of the channel islands are largely matters of conjecture and debate. of early inhabitants abundant proof is afforded by the numerous megalithic monuments--cromlechs, kistvaens and maenhirs--still extant. but little trace has been left of roman occupation, and such remains as have been discovered are mainly of the portable description that affords little proof of actual settlement, though there may have been an unimportant garrison here. the constant recurrence of the names of saints in the place-names of the islands, and the fact that pre-christian names do not occur, leads to the inference that before christianity was introduced the population was very scanty. it may be considered to have consisted originally of bretons (celts), and to have received successively a slight admixture of romans and legionaries, saxons and perhaps jutes and vandals. christianity may have been introduced in the th century. guernsey is said to have been visited in the th century by st sampson of dol (whose name is given to a small town and harbour in the island), st marcou or marculfus and st magloire, a friend and fellow-evangelist of st sampson, who founded monasteries at sark and at jersey, and died in jersey in . another evangelist of this period was st helerius, whose name is borne by the chief town of jersey, st helier. in his life it is stated that the population of the island when he reached it was only . in the islands were made over to william, duke of normandy (d. ), and after the norman conquest of england their allegiance shifted between the english crown and the norman coronet according to the vicissitudes of war and policy. during the purely norman period they had been enriched with numerous ecclesiastical buildings, some of which are still extant, as the chapel of rozel in jersey. in the reign of john of england the future of the islands was decided by their attachment to the english crown, in spite of the separation of the duchy of normandy. to john it has been usual to ascribe a document, at one time regarded by the islanders as their magna carta; but modern criticism leaves little doubt that it is not genuine. an unauthenticated "copy" of uncertain origin alone has been discovered, and there is little proof of there ever having been an original. the reign of edward i. was full of disturbance; and in jersey and guernsey received from the king, by letters patent, a public seal as a remedy for the dangers and losses which they had incurred by lack of such a certificate. edward ii. found it necessary to instruct his collectors not to treat the islanders as foreigners: his successor, edward iii., fully confirmed their privileges, immunities and customs in ; and his charter was recognized by richard ii. in . in there was a descent of the french on guernsey; the governor was defeated, and castle cornet besieged. in there was another attack on guernsey, and in and the french descended on jersey. none of these attempts, however, resulted in permanent settlement. henry v. confiscated the alien priories which had kept up the same connexion with normandy as before the conquest, and conferred them along with the regalities of the islands on his brother, the duke of bedford. during the wars of the roses, queen margaret, the consort of henry vi., made an agreement with pierre de brézé, comte de maulevrier, the seneschal of normandy, that if he afforded assistance to the king he should hold the islands independently of the crown. a force was accordingly sent to take possession of mont orgueil. it was captured and a small part of the island subjugated, and here maulevrier remained as governor from to ; but the rest held out under sir philip de carteret, seigneur of st ouen, and in the vice-admiral of england, sir richard harliston, recaptured the castle and brought the foreign occupation to an end. in - pope sixtus iv., at the instance of king edward iv., issued a bull of anathema against all who molested the islands; it was formally registered in brittany in , and in france in ; and in this way the islands acquired the right of neutrality, which they retained till . in the same reign (edward iv.) sark was taken by the french, and only recovered in the reign of mary, by the strategy (according to tradition) of landing from a vessel a coffin nominally containing a body for burial, but in reality filled with arms. by a charter of , the duties of the governors of jersey were defined and their power restricted; and the educational interests of the island were furthered at the same time by the foundation of two grammar schools. the religious establishments in the islands were dissolved, as in england, in the reign of henry viii. the reformation was heartily welcomed in the islands. the english liturgy was translated into french for their use. in the reign of mary there was much religious persecution; and in that of elizabeth roman catholics were maltreated in their turn. in the islands were attached to the see of winchester, being finally separated from that of coutances, with which they had long been connected, with short intervals in the reign of john, when they had belonged to the see of exeter, and that of henry vi., when they had belonged to salisbury. the presbyterian form of church government was adopted under the influence of refugees from the persecution of protestantism on the continent. it was formally sanctioned in st helier and st peter port by queen elizabeth; and in king james enacted that the whole of the islands "should quietly enjoy their said liberty." during his reign, however, disputes arose. an episcopal party had been formed in jersey, and in david bandinel was declared dean of the island. a body of canons which he drew up agreeable to the discipline of the church of england was accepted after considerable modification by the people of his charge; but the inhabitants of guernsey maintained their presbyterian practices. of the hold which this form of protestantism had got on the minds of the people even in jersey abundant proof is afforded by the general character of the worship at the present day. in the great struggle between king and parliament, presbyterian guernsey supported the parliament; in jersey, however, there were at first parliamentarian and royalist factions. sir philip de carteret, lieutenant-governor, declared for the king, but dean bandinel and michael lemprière, a leader of the people, headed the parliamentary party. they received a commission for the apprehension of carteret, who established himself in elizabeth castle; but after some fighting had taken place he died in the castle in august . meanwhile in guernsey sir peter osborne, the governor, was defying the whole island and maintaining himself in castle cornet. a parliamentarian governor, leonard lydcott, arrived in jersey immediately after sir philip de carteret's death. but the dowager lady carteret was holding mont orgueil; george carteret, sir philip's nephew, arrived from st malo to support the royalist cause, and lydcott and lemprière presently fled to england. george carteret established himself as lieutenant-governor and bailiff. bandinel was imprisoned in mont orgueil, and killed himself in trying to escape. jersey was now completely royalist. in the prince of wales, afterwards charles ii., arrived secretly at jersey, and remained over two months at elizabeth castle. he went on to france, but returned in , having been proclaimed king by george carteret, and at elizabeth castle he signed the declaration of his claims to the throne on the th of october. in , when charles had fled to france again after the battle of worcester, parliamentarian vessels of war appeared at jersey. the islanders, weary of the tyrannical methods of their governor, now sir george carteret, offered little resistance. on the th of december the royalist remnant yielded up elizabeth castle; and at the same time castle cornet, guernsey, which had been steadily held by osborne, capitulated. in each case honourable terms of surrender were granted. both islands had suffered severely from the struggle, and the people of guernsey, appealing to cromwell on the ground of their support of his cause, complained that two-thirds of the land was out of cultivation, and that they had lost "their ships, their traffic and their trading." after the restoration there was considerable improvement, and in the reign of james ii. the islanders got a grant of wool for the manufacture of stockings-- tods[ ] of wool being annually allowed to jersey, to guernsey, to alderney and to sark. alderney, which had been parliamentarian, was granted after the restoration to the carteret family; and it continued to be governed independently till . by william of orange the neutrality of the islands was abolished in , and during the war between england and france ( - ) there were two unsuccessful attacks on jersey, in and , the second, under baron de rullecourt, being famous for the victory over the invaders due to the bravery of the young major peirson, who fell when the french were on the point of surrender. during the revolutionary period in france the islands were the home of many refugees. in the th century various attempts were made to introduce the english custom-house system; but proved practically a failure, and the islands throve on smuggling and privateering down to . authorities.--heylin, _relation of two journeys_ ( ); p. falle, _account of the island of jersey_ ( ; notes, &c., by e. durell, jersey, ); j. duncan, _history of guernsey_ (london, ); p. le geyt, _sur les constitutions, les lois et les usages de cette île_ [jersey], ed. r.p. marett (jersey, - ); f.b. tupper, _chronicles of castle cornet, guernsey_ ( nd ed. london, ), and _history of guernsey and its bailiwick_ (guernsey, ); s.e. hoskins, _charles ii. in the channel islands_ (london, ), and other works; delacroix, _jersey, ses antiquités, &c._ (jersey, ); t. le cerf, _l'archipel des Îles normandes_ (paris, ); g. dupont, _le cotentin et ses îles_ (caen, - ); j.p.e. havet, _les cours royales des Îles normandes_ (paris, ); e. pégot-ogier, _histoire des Îles de la manche_ (paris, ); c. noury, _géologie de jersey_ (paris and jersey, ); d.t. ansted and r.g. latham, _channel islands_ ( ; rd ed., rev. by e.t. nicolle, london, ), the principal general work of reference; sir e. macculloch, _guernsey folklore_, ed. edith f. carey (london, ); e.f. carey, _channel islands_ (london, ). footnote: [ ] a tod generally equalled lb. channing, william ellery ( - ), american divine and philanthropist, was born in newport, rhode island, on the th of april . his maternal grandfather was william ellery, a signer of the declaration of independence; his mother, lucy ellery, was a remarkable woman; and his father, william channing, was a prominent lawyer in newport. channing had as a child a refined delicacy of feature and temperament, and seemed to have inherited from his father simple and elegant tastes, sweetness of temper, and warmth of affection, and from his mother that strong moral discernment and straightforward rectitude of purpose and action which formed so striking a feature of his character. from his earliest years he delighted in the beauty of the scenery of newport, and always highly estimated its influence upon his spiritual character. his father was a strict calvinist, and dr samuel hopkins, one of the leaders of the old school calvinists, was a frequent guest in his father's house. he was, even as a child, he himself says, "quite a theologian, and would chop logic with his elders according to the fashion of that controversial time." he prepared for college in new london under the care of his uncle, the rev. henry channing, and in , about a year after the death of his father, entered harvard college. before leaving new london he came under religious influences to which he traced the beginning of his spiritual life. in his college vacations he taught at lancaster, massachusetts, and in term time he stinted himself in food that he might need less exercise and so save time for study,--an experiment which undermined his health, producing acute dyspepsia. from his college course he thought that he got little good, and said "when i was in college, only three books that i read were of any moment to me: ... ferguson on _civil society_, ... hutcheson's _moral philosophy_, and price's _dissertations_. price saved me from locke's philosophy." after graduating in , he lived at richmond, virginia, as tutor in the family of david meade randolph, united states marshal for virginia. here he renewed his ascetic habits and spent much time in theological study, his mind being greatly disturbed in regard to trinitarian teachings in general and especially prayer to jesus. he returned to newport in "a thin and pallid invalid," spent a year and a half there, and in went to cambridge as regent (or general proctor) in harvard; in the autumn of he began to preach, having been approved by the cambridge association. on the st of june , having refused the more advantageous pastorate of brattle street church, he was ordained pastor of the federal street congregational church in boston. at this time it seems certain that his theological views were not fixed, and in , when he preached a sermon at the ordination of the rev. john codman ( - ), he still applied the title "divine master" to jesus christ, and used such expressions as "shed for souls" of the blood of jesus, and "the son of god himself left the abodes of glory and expired a victim of the cross." but his sermon preached in at baltimore at the ordination of the rev. jared sparks was in effect a powerful attack on trinitarianism, and was followed in by an article in _the christian disciple_, "objections to unitarian christianity considered," and in by another, "the moral argument against calvinism"--an excellent evidence of the moral (rather than the intellectual) character of unitarian protest. in he had married a rich cousin, ruth gibbs, but refused to make use of the income from her property on the ground that clergymen were so commonly accused of marrying for money. he was now entering on his public career. even in , in a fast day sermon, he warned his congregation of bonaparte's ambition; two years later he deplored "this country taking part with the oppressor against that nation which has alone arrested his proud career of victory"; in he preached a thanksgiving sermon for the overthrow of napoleon; and in he preached a sermon on war which led to the organization of the massachusetts peace society. his sermon on "religion, a social principle," helped to procure the omission from the state constitution of the third article of part i., which made compulsory a tax for the support of religious worship. in he delivered the dudleian lecture on the "evidences of revealed religion" at harvard, of whose corporation he had been a member since ; he had received its degree of s.t.d. in . in august he undertook a journey to europe, in the course of which he met in england many distinguished men of letters, especially wordsworth and coleridge. both of these poets greatly influenced him personally and by their writings, and he prophesied that the lake poets would be one of the greatest forces in a forming spiritual reform. coleridge wrote of him, "he has the love of wisdom and the wisdom of love." on his return to america in august , dr channing resumed his duties as pastor, but with a more decided attention than before to literature and public affairs, especially after receiving as colleague, in , the rev. ezra stiles gannett. in , because of his wife's bad health, channing went to the west indies. negro slavery, as he saw it there, and as he had seen it in richmond, more than thirty years before, so strongly impressed him that he began to write his book _slavery_ ( ). in this he insists that "not what is profitable, but what is right" is "the first question to be proposed by a rational being"; that slavery ought to be discussed "with a deep feeling of responsibility, and so done as not to put in jeopardy the peace of the slave-holding states"; that "man cannot be justly held and used as property"; that the tendency of slavery is morally, intellectually, and domestically, bad; that emancipation, however, should not be forced on slave-holders by governmental interference, but by an enlightened public conscience in the south (and in the north), if for no other reason, because "slavery should be succeeded by a friendly relation between master and slave; and to produce this the latter must see in the former his benefactor and deliverer." he declined to identify himself with the abolitionists, whose motto was "immediate emancipation" and whose passionate agitation he thought unsuited to the work they were attempting. the moderation and temperance of his presentation of the anti-slavery cause naturally resulted in some misunderstanding and misstatement of his position, such as is to be found in mrs chapman's _appendix_ to the _autobiography of harriet martineau_, where channing is represented as actually using his influence on behalf of slavery. in he published _thoughts on the evils of a spirit of conquest, and on slavery: a letter on the annexation of texas to the united states_, addressed to henry clay, and arguing that the texan revolt from mexican rule was largely the work of land-speculators, and of those who resolved "to throw texas open to slave-holders and slaves"; that the results of annexation must be war with mexico, embroiling the united states with england and other european powers, and at home the extension and perpetuation of slavery, not alone in texas but in other territories which the united states, once started at conquest, would force into the union. but he still objected to political agitation by the abolitionists, preferring "unremitting appeals to the reason and conscience," and, even after the prominent part he took in the meeting in faneuil hall, called to protest against the murder of elijah p. lovejoy, he wrote to _the liberator_, counselling the abolitionists to "disavow this resort to force by mr lovejoy." channing's pamphlet _emancipation_ ( ) dealt with the success of emancipation in the west indies, as related in joseph john gurney's _familiar letters to henry clay of kentucky, describing a winter in the west indies_ ( ), and added his own advice "that we should each of us bear our conscientious testimony against slavery," and that the free states "abstain as rigidly from the use of political power against slavery in the states where it is established, as from exercising it against slavery in foreign communities," and should free themselves "from any obligation to use the powers of the national or state governments in any manner whatever for the support of slavery." in he published _the duty of the free states_, or _remarks suggested by the case of the creole_, a careful analysis of the letter of complaint from the american to the british government, and a defence of the position taken by the british government. on the st of august he delivered at lenox, massachusetts, an address celebrating the anniversary of emancipation in the british west indies. two months later, on the nd of october , he died at bennington, vermont. physically channing was short and slight; his eyes were unnaturally large; his voice wonderfully clear, and like his face, filled with devotional spirit. he was not a great pastor, and lacked social tact, so that there were not many people who became his near friends; but by the few who knew him well, he was almost worshipped. as a preacher channing was often criticised for his failure to deal with the practical everyday duties of life. but his sermons are remarkable for their rare simplicity and gracefulness of style as well as for the thought that they express. the first open defence of unitarians was not based on doctrinal differences but on the peculiar nature of the attack on them made in june by the conservatives in the columns of _the panoplist_, where it was stated that unitarians were "operating only in secret, ... guilty of hypocritical concealment of their sentiments." his chief objection to the doctrine of the trinity (as stated in his sermon at the ordination of the rev. jared sparks) was that it was no longer used philosophically, as showing god's relation to the triple nature of man, but that it had lapsed into mere tritheism. to the name "unitarian" channing objected strongly, thinking "unity" as abstract a word as "trinity" and as little expressing the close fatherly relation of god to man. it is to be noted that he strongly objected to the growth of "unitarian orthodoxy" and its increasing narrowness. his views as to the divinity of jesus were based on phrases in the gospels which to his mind established christ's admission of inferiority to god the father,--for example, "knoweth no man, neither the son, but the father"; at the same time he regarded christ as "the sinless and spotless son of god, distinguished from all men by that infinite peculiarity--freedom from moral evil." he believed in the pre-existence of jesus, and that it differed from the pre-existence of other souls in that jesus was actually conscious of such pre-existence, and he reckoned him one with god the father in the sense of spiritual union (and not metaphysical mystery) in the same way that jesus bade his disciples "be ye one, even as i am one." bunsen called him "the prophet in the united states for the presence of god in mankind." channing believed in historic christianity and in the story of the resurrection, "a fact which comes to me with a certainty i find in few ancient histories." he also believed in the miracles of the gospels, but held that the scriptures were not inspired, but merely records of inspiration, and so saw the possibility of error in the construction put upon miracles by the ignorant disciples. but in only a few instances did he refuse full credence of the plain gospel narrative of miracles. he held, however, that the miracles were facts and not "evidences" of christianity, and he considered that belief in them followed and did not lead up to belief in christianity. his character was absolutely averse from controversy of any sort, and in controversies into which he was forced he was free from any theological odium and continually displayed the greatest breadth and catholicity of view. the differences in new england churches he considered were largely verbal, and he said that "would trinitarians tell us what they mean, their system would generally be found little else than a mystical form of the unitarian doctrine." his opposition to calvinism was so great that even in he declared "existence a curse" if calvinism be true. possibly his boldest and most elaborate defence of unitarianism was his sermon on _unitarianism most favourable to piety_, preached in , criticizing as it did the doctrine of atonement by the sacrifice of an "infinite substitute"; and the election sermon of was his greatest plea for spiritual and intellectual freedom. channing's reputation as an author was probably based largely on his publication in _the christian examiner_ of _remarks on the character and writings of john milton_ ( ), _remarks on the life and character of napoleon bonaparte_ ( - ), and an _essay on the character and writings of fénelon_ ( ). an _essay on self-culture_ ( ) was an address introducing the franklin lectures delivered in boston september . channing was an intimate friend of horace mann, and his views on the education of children are stated, by no less an authority than elizabeth palmer peabody, to have anticipated those of froebel. his _complete works_ have appeared in various editions ( vols., boston, ; vols., london, ; vol., new york, ). among members of his family may be mentioned his two nephews william henry ( - ), son of his brother francis dana, and william ellery, commonly known as ellery ( - ), son of his brother walter, a boston physician ( - ). the former, whose daughter married sir edwin arnold, the english poet, became a unitarian pastor, for some time in america, and also in england, where he died; he was deeply interested in christian socialism, and was a constant writer, translating jouffroy's _ethics_ ( ), and assisting in editing the _memoirs of margaret fuller_ ( ); and he wrote the biography of his uncle (see o.b. frothingham's _memoir_, ). ellery channing married margaret fuller's sister ( ), and besides critical essays and poems published an intimate sketch of thoreau in . see the _memoir_ by william henry channing ( vols., london, ; republished in one volume, new york, ); elizabeth palmer peabody, _reminiscences of the rev. william ellery channing, d.d_. (boston, ), intimate but inexact; john white chadwick, _william ellery channing, minister of religion_ (boston, ); and william m. salter, "channing as a social reformer" (_unitarian review_, march ). (r. we.) chansons de geste, the name given to the epic chronicles which take so prominent a place in the literature of france from the th to the th century. gaston paris defined a chanson de geste as a song the subject of which is a series of historical facts or _gesta_. these facts form the centre around which are grouped sets of poems, called cycles, and hence the two terms have in modern criticism become synonymous for the epic family to which the hero of the particular group or cycle belongs. the earliest chansons de geste were founded on the fusion of the teutonic spirit, under a roman form, into the new christian and french civilization. it seems probable that as early as the th century epic poems began to be chanted by the itinerant minstrels who are known as jongleurs. it is conjectured that in a base latin fragment of the th century we possess a translation of a poem on the siege of girona. gaston paris dates from this lost epic the open expression of what he calls "the epic fermentation" of france. but the earliest existing chanson de geste is also by far the noblest and most famous, the _chanson de roland_; the conjectural date of the composition of this poem has been placed between the years and . that the author, as has been supposed, was one of the conquerors of england, it is perhaps rash to assert, but undoubtedly the poem was composed before the first crusade, and the writer lived at or near the sanctuary of mont saint-michel. the _chanson de roland_ stands at the head of modern french literature, and its solidity and grandeur give a dignity to the whole class of poetry of which it is the earliest and by far the noblest example. but it is in the crowd of looser and later poems, less fully characterized, less steeped in the individuality of their authors, that we can best study the form of the typical chanson de geste. these epics sprang from the soil of france; they were national and historical; their anonymous writers composed them spontaneously, to a common model, with little regard to the artificial niceties of style. the earlier examples, which succeed the _roland_, are unlike that great work in having no plan, no system of composition. they are improvisations which wander on at their own pace, whither accident may carry them. this mass of medieval literature is monotonous, primitive and superficial. as léon gautier has said, in the rudimentary psychology of the chansons de geste, man is either entirely good or entirely bad. there are no fine shades, no observation of character. the language in which these poems are composed is extremely simple, without elaboration, without ornament. everything is sacrificed to the telling of a story by a narrator of little skill, who helps himself along by means of a picturesque, but almost childish fancy, and a primitive sentiment of rhythm. two great merits, however, all the best of these poems possess, force and lucidity; and they celebrate, what they did much to create, that unselfish elevation of temper which we call the spirit of chivalry. perhaps the most important cycle of chansons de geste was that which was collected around the name of charlemagne, and was known as the _geste du roi_. a group of this cycle dealt with the history of the mother of the emperor, and with charlemagne himself down to the coming of roland. to this group belong _bertha greatfoot_ and _aspremont_, both of the th century, and a variety of chansons dealing with the childhood of charlemagne and of ogier the dane. a second group deals with the struggle of charlemagne with his rebellious vassals. this is what has been defined as the feudal epic; it includes _girars de viane_ and _ogier the dane_, both of the th century, or the end of the th. a third group follows charlemagne and his peers to the east. it is in the principal of these poems, _the pilgrimage to jerusalem_, that alexandrine verse first makes its appearance in french literature. this must belong to the beginning of the th century. a fourth group, antecedent to the spanish war, is of the end of the th century and the beginning of the th; it includes _aiquin_, _fierabras_ and _otinel_. the fifth class discusses the war in spain, and it is to this that _roland_ belongs; there are different minor epics dealing with the events of roncevaux, and independent chansons of _gui de bourgogne_, _gaidon_ and _anseïs de carthage_. the _geste du roi_ comprises a sixth and last group, proceeding with events up to the death of charlemagne; this contains _huon de bordeaux_ and a vast number of poems of minor originality and importance. another cycle is that of duke william shortnose, _la geste de guillaume_. this includes the very early and interesting _departure of the aimeri children_, _aliscans_ and _rainoart_. it is thought that this cycle, which used to be called the _geste de garin de monglane_, is less artificial than the others; it deals with the heroes of the south who remained faithful in their vassalage to the throne. the poems belonging to this cycle are extremely numerous, and some of them are among the earliest which survive. these chansons find their direct opposites in those which form the great cycle of _la geste de doon de mayence_, sometimes called "la faulse geste," because it deals with the feats of the traitors, of the rebellious family of ganelon. this is the geste of the northmen, always hostile to the carlovingian dynasty. it comprises some of the most famous of the chansons, in particular _parise la duchesse_ and _the four sons of aymon_. several of its sections are the production of a known poet, raimbert of paris. from this triple division of the main body of the chansons de geste into _la geste du roi_, _la geste de guillaume_ and _la geste de doon_, are excluded certain poems of minor importance,--some provincial, such as _amis and amiles_ and _garin_, some dealing with the crusades, such as _antioche_, and some which are not connected with any existing cycle, such as _ciperis de vignevaux_; most of this last category, however, are works of the decadence. the analysis which is here sketched is founded on the latest theories of léon gautier, who has given the labour of a lifetime to the investigation of this subject. the wealth of material is baffling to the ordinary student; of the medieval chansons de geste many hundreds of thousands of lines have been preserved. the habit of composing became in the th century, as has been said, no longer an art but a monomania. needless to add that a very large proportion of the surviving poems have never yet been published. all the best of the early chansons de geste are written in ten-syllable verse, divided into stanzas or _laisses_ of different length, united by a single assonance. rhyme came in with the th century, and had the effect in languid bards of weakening the narrative; the sing-song of it led at last to the abandonment of verse in favour of plain historical prose. the general character of the chansons de geste, especially of those of the th century, is hard, coarse, inflexible, like the march of rough men stiffened by coats of mail. there is no art and little grace, but a magnificent display of force. these poems enshrine the self-sufficiency of a young and powerful people; they are full of gallic pride, they breathe the spirit of an indomitable warlike energy. all their figures belong to the same social order of things, and all illustrate the same fighting aristocracy. the moving principle is that of chivalry, and what is presented is, invariably, the spectacle of the processional life of a medieval soldier. the age described is a disturbed one; the feudal anarchy of europe is united, for a moment, in defending western civilization against the inroads of asia, against "the yellow peril." but it is a time of transition in europe also, and charlemagne, the immortal but enfeebled emperor, whose beard is whiter than lilies, represents an old order of things against which the rude barons of the north are perpetually in successful revolt. the loud cry of the dying ronald, as e. quinet said, rings through the whole poetical literature of medieval france; it is the voice of the individuality of the great vassal, who, in the decay of the empire, stands alone with himself and with his sword. authorities,--léon gautier, _les Épopées françaises_ ( vols., - ); gaston paris, _la littérature française au moyen âge_ ( ); paul meyer, _recherches sur l'épopée française_ ( ); g. paris, _histoire poétique de charlemagne_ ( ); a. longnon, _les quatre fits aimon_, &c. ( ). (e. g.) chant (derived through the fr. from the lat. _cantare_, to sing; an old form is "chaunt"), a song or melody, particularly one sung according to the rules of church service-books. for an account of the chant or _cantus firmus_ of the roman church see plain-song. in the english church "chants" are the tunes set to the unmetrical verses of the psalms and canticles. the chant consisted of an "intonation" followed by a reciting note of indefinite length; a "mediation" closed the first part of the verse, leading to a second reciting note; a "termination" closed the second part of the verse. in the english chant the "intonation" disappeared. chants are "single," if written for one verse only, "double," if for two. "quadruple" chants for four verses have also been written. chantabun, or chantaburi, the principal town of the siamese province of the same name, on the e. side of the gulf of siam, in ° ' e., ° ' n. pop. about . the town lies about m. from the sea on a river which is navigable for boats and inside the bar of which there is good anchorage for light-draft vessels. the trade is chiefly in rubies and sapphires from the mines of the krat and pailin districts, and in pepper, of which about tons are exported annually. cardamoms and rosewood are also exported. in chantabun was made the headquarters of a high commissioner with jurisdiction extending over the coast districts from the nam wen on the east to cape liant on the west, which were thus united to form a provincial division (_monton_). in chantabun was occupied by a french force of four hundred men, a step taken by france as a guarantee for the execution by siam of undertakings entered into by the treaty of that year. the occupation, which was merely military and did not affect the civil government, lasted until january , when, in accordance with the provisions of the franco-siamese treaty of , the garrison of occupation was withdrawn. chantabun has been since the th century, and still is, a stronghold of the roman catholic missionaries, and the christian element amongst the population is greater here than anywhere else in siam. chantada, a town of north-western spain, in the province of lugo, on the left bank of the río de chantada, a small right-hand tributary of the river miño, and on the main road from orerse, m. s. by w., to lugo, m. n. by e. pop. ( ) , . chantada is the chief town of the fertile region between the miño and the heights of el faro, which mark the western border of the province. despite the lack of railway communication, it has a thriving trade in grain, flax, hemp, and dairy produce. chantage (a fr. word from _chanter_, to sing, slang for a criminal making an avowal under examination), a demand for money backed by the threat of scandalous revelations, the french equivalent of "blackmail." chantarelle, an edible fungus, known botanically as _cantharellus cibarius_, found in woods in summer. it is golden yellow, somewhat inversely conical in shape and about in. broad and high. the cap is flattened above with a central depression and a thick lobed irregular margin. running down into the stem from the cap are a number of shallow thick gills. the substance of the fungus is dry and opaque with a peculiar smell suggesting ripe apricots or plums. the flesh is whitish tinged with yellow. the chantarelle is sold in the markets on the continent of europe, where it forms a regular article of food, but seems little known in britain though often plentiful in the new forest and elsewhere. before being cooked they should be allowed to dry, and then thrown into boiling water. they may then be stewed in butter or oil, or cut up small and stewed with meat. no fungus requires more careful preparation. see m.c. cooke, _british edible fungi_, ( ), pp. - . chantavoine, henri ( - ), french man of letters, was born at montpellier on the th of august , and was educated at the École normale supérieure. after teaching in the provinces he moved, in , to the lycée charlemagne in paris, and subsequently became professor of rhetoric at the lycée henri iv. and _maître de conferences_ at the École normale at sèvres. he was associated with the _nouvelle revue_ from its foundation in , and he joined the _journal des débats_ in . his poems include _poèmes sincères_ ( ), _satires contemporaines_ ( ), _ad memoriam_ ( ), _au fil des jours_ ( ). chantilly, a town of northern france, in the department of oise, m. n. of paris on the northern railway to st quentin. pop. ( ) . it is finely situated to the north of the forest of chantilly and on the left bank of the river nonette, and is one of the favourite parisian resorts. its name was long associated with the manufacture, which has now to a great extent decayed, of lace and blonde; it is still more celebrated for its château and its park (laid out originally by a. le nôtre in the second half of the th century), and as the scene of the great annual races of the french jockey club. the château consists of the palace built from to and of an older portion adjoining it known as the châtelet. the old castle must have been in existence in the th century, and in the reign of charles vi. the lordship belonged to pierre d'orgemont, chancellor of france. in it passed to the house of montmorency, and in from that family to the house of condé. louis ii., prince de condé, surnamed the great, was specially attached to the place, and did a great deal to enhance its beauty and splendour. here he enjoyed the society of la bruyère, racine, molière, la fontaine, boileau, and other great men of his time; and here his steward vatel killed himself in despair, because of a hitch in the preparations for the reception of louis xiv. the stables close to the racecourse were built from to by louis-henri, duke of bourbon. of the two splendid mansions existing at that period known as the grand château and the châtelet, the former was destroyed about the time of the revolution, but the latter, built for anne de montmorency by jean bullant, still remains as one of the finest specimens of renaissance architecture in france. the château d'enghien, facing the entrance to the grand château, was built in as a guest-house. on the death in of the duke of bourbon, the last representative of the house of condé, the estate passed into the hands of henri, duc d'aumale, fourth son of louis philippe. in the house of orleans was declared incapable of possessing property in france, and chantilly was accordingly sold by auction. purchased by the english bankers, coutts & co., it passed back into the hands of the duc d'aumale, in . by him a magnificent palace, including a fine chapel in the renaissance style, was erected on the foundations of the ancient grand château and in the style of the châtelet. it is quadrilateral in shape, consisting of four unequal sides flanked by towers and built round a courtyard. the whole group of buildings as well as the pleasure-ground behind them, known as the parterre de la volière, is surrounded by fosses supplied with water from the nonette. on the terrace in front of the château there is a bronze statue of the constable anne de montmorency. the duc d'aumale installed in the châtelet a valuable library, specially rich in incunabula and th century editions of classic authors, and a collection of the paintings of the great masters, besides many other objects of art. by a public act in he gave the park and château with its superb collections to the institute of france in trust for the nation, reserving to himself only a life interest; and when he died in the institute acquired full possession. chantrey, sir francis legatt ( - ), english sculptor, was born on the th of april at norton near sheffield, where his father, a carpenter, cultivated a small farm. his father died when he was eight years of age; and his mother having married again, his profession was left to be chosen by his friends. in his sixteenth year he was on the point of being apprenticed to a grocer in sheffield, when, having seen some wood-carving in a shop-window, he requested to be made a carver instead, and was accordingly placed with a mr ramsey, wood-carver in sheffield. in this situation he became acquainted with raphael smith, a distinguished draftsman in crayon, who gave him lessons in painting; and chantrey, eager to commence his course as an artist, procured the cancelling of his indentures, and went to try his fortune in dublin and edinburgh, and finally ( ) in london. here he first obtained employment as an assistant wood-carver, but at the same time devoted himself to portrait-painting, bust-sculpture, and modelling in clay. he exhibited pictures at the academy for some years from , but from onwards devoted himself mainly to sculpture. the sculptor nollekens showed particular zeal in recognizing his merits. in he married his cousin, miss wale, who had some property of her own. his first imaginative work in sculpture was the model of the head of satan, which was exhibited at the royal academy in . he afterwards executed for greenwich hospital four colossal busts of the admirals duncan, howe, vincent and nelson; and so rapidly did his reputation spread that the next bust which he executed, that of horne tooke, procured him commissions to the extent of £ , . from this period he was almost uninterruptedly engaged in professional labour. in he visited italy, and became acquainted with the most distinguished sculptors of florence and rome. he was chosen an associate ( ) and afterwards a member ( ) of the royal academy, received the degree of m.a. from cambridge, and that of d.c.l. from oxford, and in was knighted. he died after an illness of only two hours' duration on the th of november , having for some years suffered from disease of the heart, and was buried in a tomb constructed by himself in the church of his native village. the works of chantrey are extremely numerous. the principal are the statues of washington in the state-house at boston, u.s.a.; of george iii. in the guildhall, london; of george iv. at brighton; of pitt in hanover square, london; of james watt in westminster abbey and in glasgow; of roscoe and canning in liverpool; of dalton in manchester; of lord president blair and lord melville in edinburgh, &c. of his equestrian statues the most famous are those of sir thomas munro in calcutta, and the duke of wellington in front of the london exchange. but the finest of chantrey's works are his busts, and his delineations of children. the figures of two children asleep in each other's arms, which form a monumental design in lichfield cathedral, have always been lauded for beauty, simplicity and grace. so is also the statue of the girlish lady louisa russell, represented as standing on tiptoe and fondling a dove in her bosom. both these works appear, in design, to have owed something to stothard; for chantrey knew his own scantiness of ideal invention or composition, and on system sought aid from others for such attempts. in busts, his leading excellence is facility--a ready unconstrained air of life, a prompt vivacity of ordinary expression. allan cunningham and weekes were his chief assistants, and were indeed the active executants of many works that pass under chantrey's name. chantrey was a man of warm and genial temperament, and is said to have borne noticeable though commonplace resemblance to the usual portraits of shakespeare. _chantrey bequest._--by the will dated the st of december , chantrey (who had no children) left his whole residuary personal estate after the decease or on the second marriage of his widow (less certain specified annuities and bequests) in trust for the president and trustees of the royal academy (or in the event of the dissolution of the royal academy, to such society as might take its place), the income to be devoted to the encouragement of british fine art in painting and sculpture only, by "the purchase of works of fine art of the highest merit ... that can be obtained." the funds might be allowed to accumulate for not more than five years; works by british or foreign artists, dead or living, might be acquired, so long as such works were entirely executed within the shores of great britain, the artists having been in residence there during such execution and completion. the prices to be paid were to be "liberal," and no sympathy for an artist or his family was to influence the selection or the purchase of works, which were to be acquired solely on the ground of intrinsic merit. no commission or orders might be given: the works must be finished before purchase. conditions were made as to the exhibition of the works, in the confident expectation that as the intention of the testator was to form and establish a "public collection of british fine art in painting and sculpture," the government or the country would provide a suitable gallery for their display; and an annual sum of £ and £ was to be paid to the president of the royal academy and the secretary respectively, for the discharge of their duties in carrying out the provisions of the will. lady chantrey died in , and two years later the fund became available for the purchase of paintings and sculptures. the capital sum available amounted to £ , in % consols, which (since reduced to ½%) produces an available annual income varying from £ to £ . galleries in the victoria and albert museum at south kensington were at first adopted as the depository of the works acquired, until in the royal academy arranged with the treasury, on behalf of the government, for the transference of the collection to the national gallery of british art, which had been erected by sir henry tate at millbank. it was agreed that the "tate gallery" should be its future home, and that "no power of selection or elimination is claimed on behalf of the trustees and director of the national gallery" (treasury letter, - , th december ) in respect of the pictures and sculptures which were then to be handed over and which should, from time to time, be sent to augment the collection. inasmuch as it was felt that the provision that all works must be complete to be eligible for purchase militated against the most advantageous disposition of the fund in respect of sculpture, in the case of wax models or plaster casts before being converted into marble or bronze, it was sought in the action of _sir f. leighton_ v. _hughes_ (tried by mr justice north, judgment may th, , and in the court of appeal, before the master of the rolls, lord justice cotton, and lord justice fry, judgment june th, --the master of the rolls dissenting) to allow of sculptors being commissioned to complete in bronze or marble a work executed in wax or plaster, such "completion" being more or less a mechanical process. the attempt, however, was abortive. a growing discontent with the interpretation put by the royal academy upon the terms of the will as shown in the works acquired began to find expression more than usually forcible and lively in the press during the year , and a debate raised in the house of lords by the earl of lytton led to the appointment of a select committee of the house of lords, which sat from june to august . the committee consisted of the earls of carlisle, lytton, and crewe, and lords windsor, ribblesdale, newton, and killanin, and the witnesses represented the royal academy and representative art institutions and art critics. the report (ordered to be printed on the th of august ) made certain recommendations with a view to the prevention of certain former errors of administration held to have been sustained, but dismissed other charges against the academy. in reply thereto a memorandum was issued by the royal academy (february , ordered to be printed on the th of august --paper ) disagreeing with certain recommendations, but allowing others, either intact or in a modified form. up to inclusive works had been bought--all except two from living painters--at a cost of nearly £ , . of these, were in oil-colours, in water-colours, and sculptures ( in bronze and marble). see _the administration of the chantrey bequest_, by d.s. maccoll (l mo, london, ), a highly controversial publication by the leading assailant of the royal academy: _chantrey and his bequest_, by arthur fish, a complete illustrated record of the purchases, &c. (london, ); _the royal academy, its uses and abuses_, by h.j. laidlay (london, ), controversial; _report from the select committee of the house of lords on the chantrey trust; together with the proceedings of the committee, minutes of evidence and appendix_ (wyman & sons, ), and _index_ (separate publication, ). chant royal, one of the fixed forms of verse invented by the ingenuity of the poets of medieval france. it is composed of five strophes, identical in arrangement, of eleven verses each, and of an envoi of five verses. all the strophes are written on the five rhymes exhibited in the first strophe, the entire poem, therefore, consisting of sixty lines in the course of which five rhymes are repeated. it has been conjectured that the chant royal is an extended ballade, or rather a ballade conceived upon a larger scale; but which form preceded the other appears to be uncertain. on this point henri de croï, who wrote about these forms of verse in his _art et science de rhétorique_ ( ), throws no light. he dwells, however, on the great dignity of what he calls the "champt royal," and says that those who defy with success the ardour of its rules deserve crowns and garlands for their pains. Étienne pasquier ( - ) points out the fact that the chant royal, by its length and the rigidity of its structure, is better fitted than the ballade for solemn and pompous themes. in old french, the most admired chants royal are those of clement marot; his _chant royal chrestien_, with its refrain "santé au corps, et paradis à l'âme," was celebrated. théodore de banville defines the chant royal as essentially belonging to ages of faith, when its subjects could be either the exploits of a hero of royal race or the processional splendours of religion. la fontaine was the latest of the french poets to attempt the chant royal, until it was resuscitated in modern times. this species of poem was unknown in english medieval literature and was only introduced into great britain in the last quarter of the th century. the earliest chant royal in english was that published by edmund gosse in ; it is here given to exemplify the structure and rhyme-arrangement of the form:-- the praise of dionysus "behold, above the mountains there is light, a streak of gold, a line of gathering fire, and the dim east hath suddenly grown bright with pale aerial flame, that drives up higher the lurid mists which all the night long were breasting the dark ravines and coverts bare; behold, behold! the granite gates unclose, and down the vales a lyric people flows, who dance to music, and in dancing fling their frantic robes to every wind that blows, _and deathless praises to the vine-god sing._ nearer they press, and nearer still in sight, still dancing blithely in a seemly choir; tossing on high the symbol of their rite, the cone-tipp'd thyrsus of a god's desire; nearer they come, tall damsels flushed and fair, with ivy circling their abundant hair, onward, with even pace, in stately rows, with eye that flashes, and with cheek that glows, and all the while their tribute-songs they bring, and newer glories of the past disclose _and deathless praises to the vine-god sing._ the pure luxuriance of their limbs is white, and flashes clearer as they draw the nigher, bathed in an air of infinite delight, smooth without wound of thorn, or fleck of mire, borne up by song as by a trumpet's blare, leading the van to conquest, on they fare, fearless and bold, whoever comes or goes, these shining cohorts of bacchantes close, shouting and shouting till the mountains ring, and forests grim forget their ancient woes, _and deathless praises to the vine-god sing._ and youths there are for whom full many a night brought dreams of bliss, vague dreams that haunt and tire who rose in their own ecstasy bedight, and wandered forth through many a scourging briar, and waited shivering in the icy air, and wrapped the leopard-skin about them there, knowing for all the bitter air that froze, the time must come, that every poet knows, when he shall rise and feel himself a king, and follow, follow where the ivy grows, _and deathless praises to the vine-god sing._ but oh! within the heart of this great flight, whose ivory arms hold up the golden lyre? what form is this of more than mortal height? what matchless beauty, what inspiréd ire? the brindled panthers know the prize they bear, and harmonize their steps with tender care; bent to the morning, like a living rose, the immortal splendour of his face he shows; and, where he glances, leaf and flower and wing tremble with rapture, stirred in their repose, _and deathless praises to the vine-god sing._ _envoi_. prince of the flute and ivy, all thy foes record the bounty that thy grace bestows, but we, thy servants, to thy glory cling, and with no frigid lips our songs compose, _and deathless praises to the vine-god sing._" in the middle ages the chant royal was largely used for the praise of the virgin mary. eustache deschamps ( - ) distinguishes these marian chants royaux, which were called "serventois," by the absence of an envoi. these poems are first mentioned by rutebeuf, a _trouvère_ of the th century. the chant royal is practically unknown outside french and english literature. (e. g.) chantry (fr. _chanterie_, from _chanter_, to sing; med. lat. _cantuaria_), a small chapel built out from a church, endowed in pre-reformation times for the express purpose of maintaining priests for the chanting of masses for the soul of the founder or of some one named by him. it generally contained the tomb of the founder, and, as the officiator or mass-priest was often unconnected with the parochial clergy, had an entrance from the outside. the word passed through graduations of meaning. its first sense was singing or chanting. then it meant the endowment funds, next the priests, and then the church or chapel itself. chanute, a city of neosho county, kansas, u.s.a., m. from the neosho river, and about m. s.s.w. of kansas city. pop. ( ) ; ( ) , of whom were foreign-born and were negroes; ( census) . chanute is served by the atchison, topeka & santa fe and the missouri, kansas & texas railways, the former having large repair shops. the city is in the kansas-oklahoma oil and gas field, and is surrounded by a fine farming and dairying region, in which special attention is given to the raising of small fruit; oil, gas, cement rock and brick shale are found in the vicinity. among the city's manufactures are refined oil, portland cement, vitrified brick and tile, glass, asphalt, ice, cigars, drilling machinery, and flour. the municipality owns and operates the waterworks, a natural gas plant, and an electric lighting plant. four towns--new chicago, tioga, chicago junction and alliance--were started here about the same time ( ). in they were consolidated, and the present name was adopted in honour of octave chanute (b. ), the civil engineer and aeronautist (see flight and flying), then the engineer of the lawrence, leavenworth & galveston railway (now part of the atchison system). chanute was incorporated as a city of the third class in , and its charter was revised in . natural gas and oil were found here in , and chanute became one of the leaders of the kansas independent refineries in their contest with the standard oil company. chanzy, antoine eugÈne alfred ( - ), french general, was born at nouart (ardennes) on the th of march . the son of a cavalry officer, he was educated at the naval school at brest, but enlisted in the artillery, and, subsequently passing through st cyr, was commissioned in the zouaves in . he saw a good deal of fighting in algeria, and was promoted lieutenant in , and captain in . he became _chef de bataillon_ in , and served in the lombardy campaign of , being present at magenta and solferino. he took part in the syrian campaign of - as a lieutenant-colonel; and as colonel commanded the th regiment at rome in . he returned to algeria as general of brigade, assisted to quell the arab insurrection, and commanded the subdivisions of bel abbes and tlemçen in . although he had acquired a good professional reputation, he was in bad odour at the war office on account of suspected contributions to the press, and at the outbreak of the franco-german war he was curtly refused a brigade command. after the revolution, however, the government of national defence called him from algeria, made him a general of division, and gave him command of the xvi. corps of the army of the loire. (for the operations of the orleans campaign which followed, see franco-german war.) the loire army won the greatest success of the french during the whole war at coulmiers, and followed this up with another victorious action at patay; in both engagements general chanzy's corps took the most brilliant part. after the second battle of orleans and the separation of the two wings of the french army, chanzy was appointed to command that in the west, designated the second army of the loire. his enemies, the grand duke of mecklenburg, prince frederick charles, and general von der tann, all regarded chanzy as their most formidable opponent. he displayed conspicuous moral courage and constancy, not less than technical skill, in the fighting from beaugency to the loire, in his retreat to le mans, and in retiring to laval behind the mayenne. as gambetta was the soul, chanzy was the strong right arm of french resistance to the invader. he was made a grand officer of the legion of honour, and was elected to the national assembly. at the outbreak of the commune, chanzy, then at paris, fell into the hands of the insurgents, by whom he was forced to give his parole not to serve against them. it was said that he would otherwise have been appointed instead of macmahon to command the army of versailles. a ransom of £ , was also paid by the government for him. in he became a member of the committee of defence and commander of the vii. army corps, and in was appointed governor of algeria, where he remained for six years. in he was elected a life senator, in received the grand cross of the legion of honour, and in , without his consent, was nominated for the presidency of the republic, receiving a third of the total votes. for two years he was ambassador at st petersburg, during which time he received many tokens of respect, not only from the russians, but also from the german emperor, william i., and prince bismarck. he died suddenly, while commanding the vi. army corps (stationed nearest to the german frontier), at châlons-sur-marne, on the th of january , only a few days after gambetta, and his remains received a state funeral. he was the author of _la deuxième armée de la loire_ ( ). statues of general chanzy have been erected at nouart and le mans. chaos, in the hesiodic theogony, the infinite empty space, which existed before all things (_theog._ , ). it is not, however, a mere abstraction, being filled with clouds and darkness; from it proceed erebus and nyx (night), whose children are aether (upper air) and hemera (day). in the orphic cosmogony the origin of all goes back to chronos, the personification of time, who produces aether and chaos. in the aristophanic parody (_birds_, ) the winged eros in conjunction with gloomy chaos brings forth the race of birds. the later roman conception (ovid, _metam._ i. ) makes chaos the original undigested, amorphous mass, into which the architect of the world introduces order and harmony, and from which individual forms are created. in the created world (cosmos, order of the universe) the word has various meanings:--the universe; the space between heaven and earth; the under-world and its ruler. metaphorically it is used for the immeasurable darkness, eternity, and the infinite generally. in modern usage "chaos" denotes a state of disorder and confusion. chapbook (from the o. eng. _chap_, to buy and sell), the comparatively modern name applied by booksellers and bibliophiles to the little stitched tracts written for the common people and formerly circulated in england, scotland and the american colonies by itinerant dealers or chapmen, consisting chiefly of vulgarized versions of popular stories, such as _tom thumb_, _jack the giant killer_, _mother shipton_, and _reynard the fox_--travels, biographies and religious treatises. few of the older chapbooks exist. samuel pepys collected some of the best and had them bound into small quarto volumes, which he called vulgaria; also four volumes of a smaller size, which he lettered _penny witticisms, penny merriments, penny compliments_ and _penny godlinesses_. the early chapbooks were the direct descendants of the black-letter tracts of wynkyn de worde. it was in france that the printing-press first began to supply reading for the common people. at the end of the th century there was a large popular literature of farces, tales in verse and prose, satires, almanacs, &c., stitched together so as to contain a few leaves, and circulated by itinerant booksellers, known as colporteurs. most early english chapbooks are adaptations or translations of these french originals, and were introduced into england early in the th century. the chapbooks of the th century present us with valuable illustrations of the manners of the time; one of the best known is that containing the story of dick whittington. others which had a great vogue are _jack the giant killer, little red riding hood_, and _mother shipton_. those of the th century are far inferior in every way, both as regards the literature and the printing; and unfortunately it is these which form the bulk of what is now known to us in collections as chapbooks. they have never exercised any great influence in england nor received much attention, owing no doubt to their poor literary character. in france, on the other hand, their french equivalents have been the object of close and systematic study, and _l'histoire des livres populaires ou de la littérature du colportage_ by charles nisard ( ) goes deeply into the subject. amongst english books may be mentioned _notices of fugitive tracts and chapbooks_, by j.o. halliwell-phillipps ( ); _chapbooks of the th century_, by john ashton ( ), and some reprints by the villon society in . the word "chapbook" has not been noticed earlier than , when dibdin, the celebrated bibliographer, described a work as being "a chapbook, printed in rather a neat black-letter." chape (from the fr. _chape_, a hood, cope or sheath), a cover or metal plate, such as the cap upon the needle in the compass, also the transverse guard of a sword which protects the hand. from the original meaning comes the use of the word as a support or catch to attach one thing to another, as the hook on a belt to which the sword is fastened. the word is also used for the tip of a fox's brush. chapel, a place of religious worship,[ ] a name properly applied to that of a christian religious body, but sometimes to any small temple of pagan worship (lat. _sacellum_). the word is derived through the o. fr. _chapele_, modern _chapelle_, from the late lat. _capelle_ or _cappella_, diminutive of _cappa_, a cape, particularly that of a monk. this word was transferred to any sanctuary containing relics, in the early history of the frankish church, because the cloak of st martin, _cappa brevior sancti martini_, one of the most sacred relics of the frankish kings, was carried in a sanctuary or shrine wherever the king went; and oaths were taken on it (see ducange, _glossarium_, s.v. _capella_). such a sanctuary was served by a priest, who was hence called _capellanus_, from which is derived the english "chaplain" (q.v.). the strict application of the word to a sanctuary containing relics was extended to embrace any place of worship other than a church, and it was synonymous, therefore, with "oratory" (_oratorium_), especially one attached to a palace or to a private dwelling-house. the celebrated sainte chapelle in paris, attached to what is now the palais de justice, well illustrates the early and proper meaning of the word. it was built (consecration, ) by st louis of france to contain the relic of the crown of thorns, ransomed by the king from the venetians, who held it in pawn from the latin emperor of the east, john of brienne, lately dead. the chapel served as the sanctuary of the relic lodged in the upper chapel, and the whole building was attached as the place of worship to the king's palace. this, the primary meaning, survives in the chapels usually placed in the aisles of cathedrals and large churches. they were originally built either to contain relics of a particular saint to whom they were dedicated, or the tomb of a particular family. in the church of england the word is applied to a private place of worship, attached either to the palaces of the sovereign, "chapels royal," or to the residence of a private person, to a college, school, prison, workhouse, &c. further, the word has particular legal applications, though in each case the building might be and often is styled a church. these are places of worship supplementary to a parish church, and may be either "chapels of ease," to ease or relieve the mother-church and serve those parishioners who may live far away, "parochial chapels," the "churches" of ancient divisions of a very large and widely scattered parish, or "district chapels," those of a district of a parish divided under the various church building acts. a "free chapel" is one founded by the king and by his authority, and visited by him and not by the bishop. a "proprietary chapel" is one that belongs to a private person. they are anomalies to the english ecclesiastical law, have no parish rights, and can be converted to other than religious purposes, but a clergyman may be licensed to perform duty in such a place of worship. in the early and middle part of the th century such proprietary chapels were common, but they have practically ceased to exist. "chapel" was early and still is in england the general name of places of worship other than those of the established church, but the application of "church" to all places of worship without distinction of sect is becoming more and more common. the word "chapel" was in this restricted sense first applied to places of worship belonging to the roman church in england, and was thus restricted to those attached to foreign embassies, or to those of the consorts of charles i. and ii. and james ii., who were members of that church. the word is still frequently the general term for roman catholic churches in great britain and always so in ireland. the use of "chapel" as a common term for all nonconformist places of worship was general through most of the th century, so that "church and chapel" was the usual phrase to mark the distinction between members of the established church and those of nonconformist bodies. here the widened use of "church" noticed above has been especially marked. most of the recent buildings for worship erected by nonconformist bodies will be found to be styled wesleyan, congregational, &c., churches. it would appear that while the word "chapel" was not infrequent in the early history of nonconformity, "meeting-house" was the more usual term. from the architectural point of view the addition of chapels to a cathedral or large church assumes some historical importance in consequence of the changes it involved in the plan. it was the introduction of the apsidal chapels in the churches of france which eventually led to the _chevet_ or cluster of eastern chapels in many of the great cathedrals, and also sometimes to the extension of the transept so as to include additional apsidal chapels on the east side. in france, and to a certain extent in italy, the multiplication of chapels led to their being placed on the north and south side of the aisles, and in some cases, as at albi in france, to the suppression of the aisles and the instalment of the chapels in their place. the chapels of the colleges at oxford and cambridge are sometimes of large dimensions and architecturally of great importance, that of christ church being actually the cathedral of oxford; among others may be mentioned the chapel of merton college, and the new chapel of exeter college, both in oxford, and the chapel of king's college, cambridge, which is roofed over with perhaps the finest fan-vault in england. (see vault, plate ii., fig. .) footnote: [ ] the only other english sense is that of a printer's workshop, or the body of compositors in it, who are presided over by a "father of the chapel." chapelain, jean ( - ), french poet and man of letters, the son of a notary, was born in paris on the th of december . his father destined him for his own profession; but his mother, who had known ronsard, had determined otherwise. at an early age chapelain began to qualify himself for literature, learning, under nicolas bourbon, greek and latin, and teaching himself italian and spanish. having finished his studies, he was engaged for a while in teaching spanish to a young nobleman. he was then appointed tutor to the two sons of a m. de la trousse, grand provost of france. attached for the next seventeen years to the family of this gentleman, the administration of whose fortune was wholly in his hands, he seems to have published nothing during this period, yet to have acquired a great reputation as a probability. his first work given to the public was a preface for the _adone_ of marini, who printed and published that notorious poem at paris. this was followed by an excellent translation of mateo aleman's novel, _guzmán de alfarache_, and by four extremely indifferent odes, one of them addressed to richelieu. the credit of introducing the law of the dramatic unities into french literature has been claimed for many writers, and especially for the abbé d'aubignac, whose _pratique du théâtre_ appeared in . the theory had of course been enunciated in the _art poétique_ of j.c. scaliger in , and subsequently by other writers, but there is no doubt that it was the action of chapelain that transferred it from the region of theory to that of actual practice. in a conversation with richelieu in about , reported by the abbé d'olivet, chapelain maintained that it was indispensable to maintain the unities of time, place and action, and it is explicitly stated that the doctrine was new to the cardinal and to the poets who were in his pay. french classical drama thus owes the riveting of its fetters to chapelain. rewarded with a pension of a thousand crowns, and from the first an active member of the newly-constituted academy, chapelain drew up the plan of the grammar and dictionary the compilation of which was to be a principal function of the young institution, and at richelieu's command drew up the _sentiments de l'académie sur le cid_. in he published, in a magnificent form, the first twelve cantos of his celebrated epic _la pucelle_,[ ] on which he had been engaged during twenty years. six editions of the poem were disposed of in eighteen months. but this was the end of the poetic reputation of chapelain, "the legist of parnassus". later the slashing satire of boileau (in this case fairly master of his subject) did its work, and chapelain ("_le plus grand poète français qu' ait jamais été et du plus solide jugement_," as he is called in colbert's list) took his place among the failures of modern art. chapelain's reputation as a critic survived this catastrophe, and in he was employed by colbert to draw up an account of contemporary men of letters, destined to guide the king in his distribution of pensions. in this pamphlet, as in his letters, he shows to far greater advantage than in his unfortunate epic. his prose is incomparably better than his verse; his criticisms are remarkable for their justice and generosity; his erudition and kindliness of heart are everywhere apparent; the royal attention is directed alike towards the author's firmest friends and bitterest enemies. to him young racine was indebted not only for kindly and seasonable counsel, but also for that pension of six hundred livres which was so useful to him. the catholicity of his taste is shown by his _de la lecture des vieux romans_ (pr. ), in which he praises the _chansons de geste_, forgotten by his generation. chapelain refused many honours, and his disinterestedness in this and other cases makes it necessary to receive with caution the stories of ménage and tallemant des réaux, who assert that he was in his old age a miser, and that a considerable fortune was found hoarded in his apartments when he died on the nd of february . there is a very favourable estimate of chapelain's merits as a critic in george saintsbury's _history of criticism_, ii. - . an analysis of _la pucelle_ is given in pp. - of robert southey's _joan of arc_. see also _les lettres de jean chapelain_ (ed. p. tanuzey de larroque, - ); _lettres inédites ... à p.d. huet_ ( - , ed. by l.g. pellissier, ); julien duchesne, _les poèmes épiques du xviie siècle_ ( ); the abbé a. fabre, _les ennemis de chapelain_ ( ), _chapelain et nos deux premières académies_ ( ); and a. muehlan,_ jean chapelain_ ( ). footnote: [ ] the last twelve cantos of _la pucelle_ were edited ( ) from the ms. with corrections and a preface in the author's autograph, in the _bibliothèque nationale_, by h. herluison. another edition, by e. de molènes ( vols.), was published in . chapel-en-le-frith, a market town in the high peak parliamentary division of derbyshire, england, m. s.e. of manchester, on the london & north-western and midland railways. pop. ( ) . it lies in an upland valley of the peak district, the hills of which rise above ft. in its immediate vicinity. there are paper-works and ironworks, and brewing is carried on. the foundation of the church of st thomas of canterbury is attributed to the foresters of the royal forest or frith of the peak early in the th century; and from this the town took name. after the defeat of the scottish forces at preston by cromwell in , it is said that prisoners were confined in the church at chapel-en-le-frith. chapel hill, a town of orange county, north carolina, u.s.a., about m. n.w. of raleigh. pop. ( ) ; ( ) . it is served by a branch of the southern railway, connecting at university, m. distant, with the greensboro & goldsboro division. the town is best known as the seat of the university of north carolina (see north carolina), whose campus contains acres. there are cotton and knitting mills and lumber interests of some importance. chapel hill was settled late in the th century, and was first incorporated in . chapelle ardente (fr. "burning chapel"), the chapel or room in which the corpse of a sovereign or other exalted personage lies in state pending the funeral service. the name is in allusion to the many candles which arc lighted round the catafalque. this custom is first chronicled as occurring at the obsequies of dagobert i. ( - ). chaperon, originally a cap or hood (fr. _chape_) worn by nobles and knights of the garter in full dress, and after the th century by middle-aged ladies. the modern use of the word is of a married or elderly lady (cf. "duenna") escorting or protecting a young and unmarried girl in public places and in society. chaplain, strictly one who conducts service in a chapel (q.v.), i.e. a priest or minister without parochial charge who is attached for special duties to a sovereign or his representatives (ambassadors, judges, &c.), to bishops, to the establishments of nobles, &c., to institutions (e.g. parliament, congress, colleges, schools, workhouses, cemeteries), or to the army and the navy. in some cases a parish priest is also appointed to a chaplaincy, but in so far as he is a chaplain he has no parochial duties. thus a bishop of the english church appoints examining chaplains who conduct the examination of candidates for holy orders; such officials generally hold ordinary benefices also. the british sovereign has "chaplains in ordinary," who perform service at st james's in rotation, as well as "honorary chaplains" and "chaplains of the household." there are also royal chaplains in scotland and ireland. the scottish chaplains in ordinary are on the same basis as those in england, but the irish chaplains are attached to the household of the lord-lieutenant. the indian civil service appoints a number of clergymen of the church of england and the church of scotland. these clergymen are known as chaplains, and are subject to the same conditions as other civil servants, being eligible for a retiring pension after years of service. chaplains are also appointed under the foreign office to embassies, legations, consulates, &c. workhouse chaplains are appointed by overseers and guardians on the direction of the local government board, to which alone such chaplains are responsible. prison chaplains are appointed by the home secretary. in the british army there are two kinds of chaplains, permanent and occasional. the former, described as chaplains to the forces, hold commissions, serving throughout the empire except in india: they include a chaplain-general who ranks as a major-general, and four classes of subordinate chaplains who rank respectively as colonels, lieutenant-colonels, majors and captains. there are about in all. special chaplains (acting chaplains for temporary service) may be appointed by a secretary of state under the army chaplains act of to perform religious service for the army in particular districts. the permanent chaplains may be church of england, roman catholic, or presbyterian; wesleyans (if they prefer not to accept commissions) may be appointed acting chaplains. the church of england chaplains report to the chaplain-general, while other chaplains report to the war office direct. in the navy, chaplains are likewise appointed but do not hold official rank. they must have a special ecclesiastical licence from the archbishop of canterbury. in a chaplains' department of the territorial force was formed; there is no denominational restriction. in the armies and navies of all christian countries chaplains are officially appointed, with the single exception of france, where the office was abolished on the separation of church and state. in the army of the united states of america chaplains are originally appointed by the president, and subsequently are under the authority of the secretary of war, who receives recommendations as regards transfer from department commanders. by act of congress, approved in april , the establishment of chaplains was fixed at ( with the rank of major), for the artillery corps and each for the cavalry and infantry regiments. there is no distinction of sect. in the u.s. navy the chaplains are in number, of whom rank as lieutenants, as commanders, as captains. in the armies of roman catholic countries there are elaborate regulations. where the chaplains are numerous a chaplain-major is generally appointed, but in the absence of special sanction from the pope such officer has no spiritual jurisdiction. moreover, chaplains must be approved by the ordinary of the locality. in austria there are roman catholic, greek church, jewish and mahommedan chaplains. the roman catholic chaplains are classed as parish priests, curates and assistants, and are subject to an army vicar apostolic. in war, at an army headquarters there are a "field-rabbi," a "military imam," an evangelical minister, as well as the roman catholic hierarchy. by a decree of the sacred congregation of propaganda (may , ), the archbishop of westminster is the ecclesiastical superior of all commissioned roman catholic chaplains in the british army and navy, and he is empowered to negotiate with the civil authorities concerning appointments. in germany, owing to the fact that there are different religions in the different states, there is no uniform system. in prussia there are two _feldprobste_ (who are directly under the war minister), one lutheran, one roman catholic. the latter is a titular bishop, and has sole spiritual authority over soldiers. there are also army corps and divisional chaplains of both faiths. bavaria and saxony, both roman catholic states, have no special spiritual hierarchy; in bavaria, the archbishop of munich and freysing is _ex officio_ bishop of the army. the origin of the office of _capellanus_ or _cappellanus_ in the medieval church is generally traced (see du cange, _gloss, med. et infim. latin_.) to the appointment of persons to watch over the sacred cloak (_cappa_ or _capella_) of st martin of tours, which was preserved as a relic by the french monarchs. in time of war this cloak was carried with the army in the field, and was kept in a tent which itself came to be known as a _cappella_ or _capella_. it is also suggested that the _capella_ was simply the tent or canopy which the french kings erected over the altar in the field for the worship of the soldiers. however this may be, the name _capellanus_ was generally applied to those who were in charge of sacred relics: such officials were also known as _custodes, martyrarii, cubicularii_. thus we hear of a _custos palatinae capellae_ who was in charge of the palace chapel relics, and guarded them in the field; the chief of these _custodes_ was sometimes called the _archicapellanus_. from the care of sacred relics preserved in royal chapels, &c. (_sacella_ or _capellae_), the office of _capellanus_ naturally extended its scope until it covered practically that of the modern court chaplain, and was officially recognized by the church. these clerics became the confessors in royal and noble houses, and were generally chosen from among bishops and other high dignitaries. the arch-chaplain not only received jurisdiction within the royal household, but represented the authority of the monarch in religious matters, and also acquired more general powers. in france the arch-chaplain was grand-almoner, and both in france and in the holy roman empire was also high chancellor of the realm. the office was abolished in france at the revolution in , revived by pius ix. in , and again abolished on the fall of the second empire. the roman catholic church also recognizes a class of beneficed chaplains, supported out of "pious foundations" for the specific duty of saying, or arranging for, certain masses, or taking part in certain services. these chaplains are classified as follows:--_ecclesiastical_, if the foundation has been recognized officially as a benefice; _lay_, if this recognition has not been obtained; _mercenary_, if the person who has been entrusted with the duty of performing or procuring the desired celebration is a layman (such persons also are sometimes called "lay chaplains"); _collative_, if it is provided that a bishop shall collate or confer the right to act upon the accepted candidate, who otherwise could not be recognized as an ecclesiastical chaplain. there are elaborate regulations governing the appointment and conduct of these chaplains. other classes of chaplains are:--( ) _parochial_ or _auxiliary chaplains_, appointed either by a parish priest (under a provision authorized by the council of trent) or by a bishop to take over certain specified duties which he is unable to perform; ( ) _chaplains of convents_, appointed by a bishop: these must be men of mature age, should not be regulars unless secular priests cannot be obtained, and are not generally to be appointed for life; ( ) _pontifical chaplains_, some of whom (known as private chaplains) assist the pontiff in the celebration of mass; others attached directly to the pope are honorary private chaplains who occasionally assist the private chaplains, private clerics of the chapel, common chaplains and supernumerary chaplains. the common chaplains were instituted by alexander vii., and in were definitely allowed the title "monsignore" by pius x. chaplin, henry ( - ), english statesman, second son of the rev. henry chaplin, of blankney, lincolnshire, was educated at harrow and christ church, oxford, and first entered parliament in as conservative member for mid-lincolnshire. he represented this constituency (which under the redistribution act of became the sleaford division) till , when he was defeated, but in returned to the house of commons as member for wimbledon at a by-election. in he married a daughter of the rd duke of sutherland, but lost his wife in . outside the house of commons he was a familiar figure on the turf, winning the derby with hermit in ; and in politics from the first the "squire of blankney" took an active interest in agricultural questions, as a popular and typical representative of the english "country gentleman" class. having filled the office of chancellor of the duchy of lancaster in lord salisbury's short ministry of - , he became president of the new board of agriculture in , with a seat in the cabinet, and retained this post till . in the conservative cabinet of - he was president of the local government board, and was responsible for the agricultural rates act of ; but he was not included in the ministry after its reconstruction in . mr chaplin had always been an advocate of protectionism, being in this respect the most prominent inheritor of the views of lord george bentinck; and when in the tariff reform movement began under mr chamberlain's leadership, he gave it his enthusiastic support, becoming a member of the tariff commission and one of the most strenuous advocates in the country of the new doctrines in opposition to free trade. chapman, george (? - ), english poet and dramatist, was born near hitchin. the inscription on the portrait which forms the frontispiece of _the whole works of homer_ states that he was then ( ) fifty-seven years of age. anthony à wood (_athen. oxon._ ii. ) says that about he was sent to the university, "but whether first to this of oxon, or that of cambridge, is to me unknown; sure i am that he spent some time in oxon, where he was observed to be most excellent in the latin and greek tongues, but not in logic or philosophy." chapman's first extant play, _the blind beggar of alexandria_, was produced in , and two years later francis meres mentions him in _palladis tamia_ among the "best for tragedie" and the "best for comedie." of his life between leaving the university and settling in london there is no account. it has been suggested, from the detailed knowledge displayed in _the shadow of night_ of an incident in sir francis vere's campaign, that he saw service in the netherlands. there are frequent entries with regard to chapman in henslowe's diary for the years - , but his dramatic activity slackened during the following years, when his attention was chiefly occupied by his _homer_. in he was imprisoned with john marston for his share in _eastward ho_, in which offence was given to the scottish party at court. ben jonson voluntarily joined the two, who were soon released. chapman seems to have enjoyed favour at court, where he had a patron in prince henry, but in jonson and he were for a short time in prison again for "a play." beaumont, the french ambassador in london, in a despatch of the th of april , writes that he had obtained the prohibition of a performance of _biron_ in which the queen of france was represented as giving mademoiselle de verneuil a box on the ears. he adds that three of the actors were imprisoned, but that the chief culprit, the author, had escaped (raumer, _briefe aus paris_, , ii. ). among chapman's patrons was robert carr, earl of somerset, to whom he remained faithful after his disgrace. chapman enjoyed the friendship and admiration of his great contemporaries. john webster in the preface to _the white devil_ praised "his full and heightened style," and ben jonson told drummond of hawthornden that fletcher and chapman "were loved of him." these friendly relations appear to have been interrupted later, for there is extant in the ashmole mss. an "invective written by mr george chapman against mr ben jonson." chapman died in the parish of st giles in the fields, and was buried on the th of may in the churchyard. a monument to his memory was erected by inigo jones. (m. br.) chapman, his first biographer is careful to let us know, "was a person of most reverend aspect, religious and temperate, qualities rarely meeting in a poet"; he had also certain other merits at least as necessary to the exercise of that profession. he had a singular force and solidity of thought, an admirable ardour of ambitious devotion to the service of poetry, a deep and burning sense at once of the duty implied and of the dignity inherent in his office; a vigour, opulence, and loftiness of phrase, remarkable even in that age of spiritual strength, wealth and exaltation of thought and style; a robust eloquence, touched not unfrequently with flashes of fancy, and kindled at times into heat of imagination. the main fault of his style is one more commonly found in the prose than in the verse of his time,--a quaint and florid obscurity, rigid with elaborate rhetoric and tortuous with labyrinthine illustration; not dark only to the rapid reader through closeness and subtlety of thought, like donne, whose miscalled obscurity is so often "all glorious within," but thick and slab as a witch's gruel with forced and barbarous eccentricities of articulation. as his language in the higher forms of comedy is always pure and clear, and sometimes exquisite in the simplicity of its earnest and natural grace, the stiffness and density of his more ambitious style may perhaps be attributed to some pernicious theory or conceit of the dignity proper to a moral and philosophic poet. nevertheless, many of the gnomic passages in his tragedies and allegoric poems are of singular weight and beauty; the best of these, indeed, would not discredit the fame of the very greatest poets for sublimity of equal thought and expression: witness the lines chosen by shelley as the motto for a poem, and fit to have been chosen as the motto for his life. the romantic and sometimes barbaric grandeur of chapman's _homer_ remains attested by the praise of keats, of coleridge and of lamb; it is written at a pitch of strenuous and laborious exaltation, which never flags or breaks down, but never flies with the ease and smoothness of an eagle native to homeric air. from his occasional poems an expert and careful hand might easily gather a noble anthology of excerpts, chiefly gnomic or meditative, allegoric or descriptive. the most notable examples of his tragic work are comprised in the series of plays taken, and adapted sometimes with singular licence, from the records of such part of french history as lies between the reign of francis i. and the reign of henry iv., ranging in date of subject from the trial and death of admiral chabot to the treason and execution of marshal biron. the two plays bearing as epigraph the name of that famous soldier and conspirator are a storehouse of lofty thought and splendid verse, with scarcely a flash or sparkle of dramatic action. the one play of chapman's whose popularity on the stage survived the restoration is _bussy d'ambois_ (d'amboise),--a tragedy not lacking in violence of action or emotion, and abounding even more in sweet and sublime interludes than in crabbed and bombastic passages. his rarest jewels of thought and verse detachable from the context lie embedded in the tragedy of _caesar and pompey_, whence the finest of them were first extracted by the unerring and unequalled critical genius of charles lamb. in most of his tragedies the lofty and labouring spirit of chapman may be said rather to shine fitfully through parts than steadily to pervade the whole; they show nobly altogether as they stand, but even better by help of excerpts and selections. but the excellence of his best comedies can only be appreciated by a student who reads them fairly and fearlessly through, and, having made some small deductions on the score of occasional pedantry and occasional indecency, finds in _all fools_, _monsieur d'olive_, _the gentleman usher_, and _the widow's tears_ a wealth and vigour of humorous invention, a tender and earnest grace of romantic poetry, which may atone alike for these passing blemishes and for the lack of such clear-cut perfection of character and such dramatic progression of interest as we find only in the yet higher poets of the english heroic age. so much it may suffice to say of chapman as an original poet, one who held of no man and acknowledged no master, but from the birth of marlowe well-nigh to the death of jonson held on his own hard and haughty way of austere and sublime ambition, not without kindly and graceful inclination of his high grey head to salute such younger and still nobler compeers as jonson and fletcher. with shakespeare we should never have guessed that he had come at all in contact, had not the keen intelligence of william minto divined or rather discerned him to be the rival poet referred to in shakespeare's sonnets with a grave note of passionate satire, hitherto as enigmatic as almost all questions connected with those divine and dangerous poems. this conjecture professor minto fortified by such apt collocation and confrontation of passages that we may now reasonably accept it as an ascertained and memorable fact. the objections which a just and adequate judgment may bring against chapman's master-work, his translation of homer, may be summed up in three epithets: it is romantic, laborious, elizabethan. the qualities implied by these epithets are the reverse of those which should distinguish a translator of homer; but setting this apart, and considering the poems as in the main original works, the superstructure of a romantic poet on the submerged foundations of greek verse, no praise can be too warm or high for the power, the freshness, the indefatigable strength and inextinguishable fire which animate this exalted work, and secure for all time that shall take cognizance of english poetry an honoured place in its highest annals for the memory of chapman. (a. c. s.) chapman's works include:--[greek: skia nyktos]: _the shadow of night: containing two poeticall hymnes_ ... ( ), the second of which deals with sir francis vere's campaign in the netherlands; _ovid's banquet of sence. a coronet for his mistresse philosophie; and his amorous zodiacke with a translation of a latine coppie, written by a fryer, anno dom. _ ( , nd ed. ), a collection of poems frequently quoted from in _england's parnassus_ ( ); "de guiana, carmen epicum," a poem prefixed to lawrence keymis's _a relation of the second voyage to guiana_ ( ); _hero and leander. begun by christopher marloe; and finished by george chapman_ ( ); _the blinde begger of alexandria, most pleasantly discoursing his variable humours_ ... (acted , printed ), a popular comedy; _a pleasant comedy entituled an humerous dayes myrth_ (identified by mr fleay with the "comodey of umero" noted by henslowe on the th of may ; printed ); _al fooles, a comedy_ (paid for by henslowe on the nd of july , its original name being "the world runs on wheels"; printed ); _the gentleman usher_ (c. , pr. ), a comedy; _monsieur d'olive_ ( , pr. ), one of his most amusing and successful comedies; _eastward hoe_ ( ), written in conjunction with ben jonson and john marston, an excellent comedy of city life; _bussy d'ambois,[ ] a tragedie_ ( , pr. , , , , &c.), the scene of which is laid in the court of henry iii.; _the revenge of bussy d'ambois. a tragedie_ (pr. , but probably written much earlier); _the conspiracie, and tragedie of charles duke of byron. marshall of france, ... in two plays_ ( and ; pr. and ); _may-day, a witty comedie_ (pr. ; but probably acted as early as ); _the widdowes teares. a comedie_ (pr. ; produced perhaps as early as ); _caesar and pompey: a roman tragedy, declaring their warres. out of whose events is evicted this proposition. only a just man is a freeman_ (pr. ), written, says chapman in the dedication, "long since," but never staged. _the tragedy of alphonsus emperour of germany_ (see the edition by dr karl elye; leipzig, ) and _revenge for honour_ ( )[ ] both bear chapman's name on the title-page, but his authorship has been disputed. in _the ball_ (lic. ; pr. ), a comedy, and _the tragedie of chabot admirall of france_ (lic. ; pr. ) he collaborated with james shirley. _the memorable masque of the two honourable houses or inns of court; the middle temple and lyncoln's inne_, was performed at court in in honour of the marriage of the princess elizabeth. _the whole works of homer: prince of poets. in his iliads and odysseys_ ... appeared in , and about he added _the crowne of all homers works batrachomyomachia or the battaile of frogs and mise. his hymns and epigrams._ but the whole works had been already published by instalments. _seaven bookes of the iliades of homer_ had appeared in , _achilles shield_ in the same year, books i.-xii. about ; in _the iliads of homer, prince of poets_ ...; and in _twenty-four bookes of homer's odisses_ were entered at stationers' hall. in he addressed to prince henry _enthymiae raptus; or the teares of peace_, and on the death of his patron he contributed _an epicede, or funerall song_ ( ). a paraphrase of _petrarchs seven penitentiall psalms_ ( ), a poem in honour of the marriage of robert carr, earl of somerset, and frances, the divorced countess of essex, indiscreetly entitled _andromeda liberata_ ... ( ), a translation of _the georgicks of hesiod_ ( ), _pro vere autumni lachrymae_ ( ), in honour of sir horatio vere, _a justification of a strange action of nero ... also ... the fifth satyre of juvenall_ ( ), and _eugenia_ ... ( ), an elegy on sir william russell, complete the list of his separately published works. chapman's _homer_ was edited in by the rev. richard hooper; and a reprint of his dramatic works appeared in . the standard edition of chapman is the _works_, edited by r.h. shepherd ( - ), the third volume of which contains an "essay on the poetical and dramatic works of george chapman," by mr swinburne, printed separately in . the selection of his plays ( ) for the mermaid series is edited by mr w.l. phelps. for the sources of the plays see emil koeppel, "anellen studien zu den dramen george chapman's, philip massinger's und john ford's" in _quellen und forschungen zur sprach und kulturgeschichte_ (vol. , strassburg, ). the suggestion of w. minto (see _characteristics of the english poets_, ) that chapman was the "rival poet" of shakespeare's sonnets is amplified in mr a. acheson's _shakespeare and the rival poet_ ( ). much satire in chapman's introduction is there applied to shakespeare. for other criticisms of his translation of homer see matthew arnold, _lectures on translating homer_ ( ), and dr a. lohff, _george chapman's ilias-Übersetzung_ (berlin, ). (m. br.) footnotes: [ ] chapman's source in this piece remains undetermined. it cannot be the _historia sui temporis_ of jacques de thorn, for the th volume of his work, which relates the story, was not published until (see koeppel, p. ). [ ] this play appears to have been issued in with the title _the parracide, or revenge for honour_ as the work of henry glathorne. chapman (from o. eng. _céap_, and mid. eng. _cheap_, to barter, cf. "cheapside" in london, and ger. _kaufmann_), one who buys or sells, a trader or dealer, especially an itinerant pedlar. the word "chap," now a slang term, meant originally a customer. chapone, hester ( - ), english essayist, daughter of thomas mulso, a country gentleman, was born at twywell, northamptonshire, on the th of october . she was a precocious child, and at the age of nine wrote a romance entitled _the loves of amoret and melissa_. hecky mulso, as she was familiarly called, developed a beautiful voice, which earned her the name of "the linnet." while on a visit to canterbury she made the acquaintance of the learned mrs elizabeth carter, and soon became one of the admirers of the novelist samuel richardson. she was one of the little court of women who gathered at north end, fulham; and in miss susannah highmore's sketch of the novelist reading _sir charles grandison_ to his friends miss mulso is the central figure. she corresponded with richardson on "filial obedience" in letters as long as his own, signing herself his "ever obliged and affectionate child." she admired, however, with discrimination, and in the words of her biographer (_posthumous works_, , p. ) "her letters show with what dignity, tempered with proper humility, she could maintain her own well-grounded opinion." in miss mulso, with her father's reluctant consent, married the attorney, john chapone, who had been befriended by richardson. her husband died within a year of her marriage. mrs chapone remained in london visiting various friends. she had already made small contributions to various periodicals when she published, in , her best known work, _letters on the improvement of the mind._ this book brought her numerous requests from distinguished persons to undertake the education of their children. she died on the th of december . see _the posthumous works of mrs chapone, containing her correspondence with mr richardson; a series of letters to mrs elizabeth carter ... together with an account of her life and character drawn up by her own family_ ( ). chappe, claude ( - ), french engineer, was born at brûlon (sarthe) in . he was the inventor of an optical telegraph which was widely used in france until it was superseded by the electric telegraph. his device consisted of an upright post, on the top of which was fastened a transverse bar, while at the ends of the latter two smaller arms moved on pivots. the position of these bars represented words or letters; and by means of machines placed at intervals such that each was distinctly visible from the next, messages could be conveyed through leagues in a quarter of an hour. the machine was adopted by the legislative assembly in , and in the following year chappe was appointed _ingénieur-télégraphe_; but the originality of his invention was so much questioned that he was seized with melancholia and (it is said) committed suicide at paris in . his elder brother, ignace urbain jean chappe ( - ), took part in the invention of the telegraph, and with a younger brother, pierre françois, from to was administrator of the telegraphs, a post which was also held by two other brothers, rené and abraham, from to . ignace was the author of a _histoire de la télégraphie_ ( ). an uncle, jean chappe d'auteroche ( - ), was an astronomer who observed two transits of venus, one in siberia in , and the other in in california, where he died. chappell, william ( - ), english writer on music, a member of the london musical firm of chappell & co., was born on the th of november , eldest son of samuel chappell (d. ), who founded the business. william chappell is particularly noteworthy for his starting the musical antiquarian society in , and his publication of the standard work _popular music of the olden time_ ( - )--an expansion of a collection of "national english airs" made by him in - . the modern revival of interest in english folk-songs owes much to this work, which has since been re-edited by professor h.e. wooldridge ( ). w. chappell died on the th of august . his brother, thomas patey chappell (d. ), meanwhile had largely extended the publishing business, and had started ( ) the monday and saturday popular concerts at st james's hall, which were successfully managed by a younger brother, s. arthur chappell, till they came to an end towards the close of the century. chapra, or chupra, a town of british india, the administrative headquarters of saran district in bengal, near the left bank of the river gogra, just above its confluence with the ganges; with a railway station on the bengal & north-western line towards oudh. pop. ( ) , , showing a decrease of % in the decade. there are a government high school, a german lutheran mission, and a public library endowed by a former maharaja of hatwa. chapra is the centre of trade in indigo and saltpetre, and conducts a large business by water as well as by rail. chaptal, jean antoine claude, comte de chante-loup ( - ), french chemist and statesman, was born at nogaret, lozère, on the th of june . the son of an apothecary, he studied chemistry at montpellier, obtaining his doctor's diploma in , when he repaired to paris. in the states of languedoc founded a chair of chemistry for him at the school of medicine in montpellier, where he taught the doctrines of lavoisier. the capital he acquired by the death of a wealthy uncle he employed in the establishment of chemical works for the manufacture of the mineral acids, alum, white-lead, soda and other substances. his labours in the cause of applied science were at length recognized by the french government, which presented him with letters of nobility, and the cordon of the order of saint michel. during the revolution a publication by chaptal, entitled _dialogue entre un montagnard et un girondin_, caused him to be arrested; but being speedily set at liberty through the intermission of his friends, he undertook, in , the management of the saltpetre works at grenelle. in the following year he went to montpellier, where he remained till , when he returned to paris. after the _coup d'état_ of the th of brumaire (november , ) he was made a councillor of state by the first consul, and succeeded lucien bonaparte as minister of the interior, in which capacity he established a chemical manufactory near paris, a school of arts, and a society of industries; he also reorganized the hospitals, introduced the metrical system of weights and measures, and otherwise greatly encouraged the arts and sciences. a misunderstanding between him and napoleon (who conferred upon him the title of comte de chanteloup) occasioned chaptal's retirement from office in ; but before the end of that year he was again received into favour by the emperor, who bestowed on him the grand cross of the legion of honour, and made him treasurer to the conservative senate. on napoleon's return from elba, chaptal was made director-general of commerce and manufactures and a minister of state. he was obliged after the downfall of the emperor to withdraw into private life; and his name was removed from the list of the peers of france until . in , however, he was nominated a member of the academy of sciences by louis xviii. chaptal was especially a popularizer of science, attempting to apply to industry and agriculture the discoveries of chemistry. in this way he contributed largely to the development of modern industry. he died at paris on the th of july . his literary works exhibit both vigour and perspicuity of style; he wrote, in addition to various articles, especially in the _annales de chimie, Élémens de chimie_ ( vols., ; new ed., - ); _traité du salpètre et des goudrons_ ( ); _tableau des principaux sels terreux_ ( ); _essai sur le perfectionnement des arts chimiques en france_ ( ); _art de faire, de gouverner, et de perfectionner les vins_ ( vol., ; new ed., ); _traité théorique et pratique sur la culture de la vigne, &c._, ( vols., ; new ed., ); _essai sur le blanchiment_ ( ); _la chimie appliquée aux arts_ ( vols., ); _art de la teinture du coton en rouge_ ( ); _art du teinturier et du dégraisseur_ ( ); _de l'industrie française_ ( vols., ); _chimie appliquée a l'agriculture_ ( vols., ; new ed., ). chapter (a shortened form of _chapiter_, a word still used in architecture for a capital; derived from o. fr. _chapitre_, lat. _capitellum_, diminutive of _caput_, head), a principal division or section of a book, and so applied to acts of parliament, as forming "chapters" or divisions of the legislation of a session of parliament. the name "chapter" is given to the permanent body of the canons of a cathedral or collegiate church, presided over, in the english church, by the dean, and in the roman communion by the provost or the dean, and also to the body of the members of a religious order. this may be a "conventual" chapter of the monks of a particular monastery, "provincial" of the members of the order in a province, or "general" of the whole order. this ecclesiastical use of the word arose from the custom of reading a chapter of scripture, or a head (_capitulum_) of the _regula_, to the assembled canons or monks. the transference from the reading to the assembly itself, and to the members constituting it, was easy, through such phrases as _convenire ad capitulum_. the title "chapter" is similarly used of the assembled body of knights of a military or other order. (see also canon; cathedral; dean). chapter-house (lat. _capitolium_, ital. _capitolo_, fr. _chapitre_, ger. _kapitelhaus_), the chamber in which the chapter or heads of the monastic bodies (see abbey and cathedral) assembled to transact business. they are of various forms; some are oblong apartments, as canterbury, exeter, chester, gloucester, &c.; some octagonal, as salisbury, westminster, wells, lincoln, york, &c. that at lincoln has ten sides, and that at worcester is circular; most are vaulted internally and polygonal externally, and some, as salisbury, wells, lincoln, worcester, &c., depend on a single slight vaulting shaft for the support of the massive vaulting. they are often provided with a vestibule, as at westminster, lincoln, salisbury and are almost exclusively english. chapu, formerly an important maritime town of china, in the province of cheh-kiang, m. n.w. of chên-hai, situated in one of the richest and best cultivated districts in the country. it is the port of hang-chow, with which it has good canal communication, and it was formerly the only chinese port trading with japan. the town has a circuit of about m. exclusive of the suburbs that lie along the beach; and the tatar quarter is separated from the rest by a wall. it was captured and much injured by the british force in , but was abandoned immediately after the engagement. the sea around it has now silted up, though in the middle of the th century it was accessible to the light-draught ships of the british fleet. char (_salvelinus_), a fish of the family salmonidae, represented in europe, asia and north america. the best known and most widely distributed species, the one represented in british and irish lakes, is _s. alpinus_, a graceful and delicious fish, covered with very minute scales and usually dark olive, bluish or purplish black above, with or without round orange or red spots, pinkish white or yellowish pink to scarlet or claret red below. when the char go to sea, they assume a more silvery coloration, similar to that of the salmon and sea trout; the red spots become very indistinct and the lower parts are almost white. the very young are also silvery on the sides and white below, and bear to bars, or parr-marks, on the side. this fish varies much according to localities; and the difference in colour, together with a few points of doubtful constancy, have given rise to the establishment of a great number of untenable so-called species, as many as seven having been ascribed to the british and irish fauna, viz. _s. alpinus, nivalis, killinensis, willoughbyi, perisii, colii_ and _grayi_, the last from lough melvin, ireland, being the most distinct. _s. alpinus_ varies much in size according to the waters it inhabits, remaining dwarfed in some english lakes, and growing to ft. or more in other localities. in other parts of europe, also, various local forms have been distinguished, such as the "omble chevalier" of the lakes of switzerland and savoy (_s. umbla_), the "säbling" of the lakes of south germany and austria (_s. salvelinus_), the "kullmund" of norway (_s. carbonarius_), &c., while the north american _s. parkei, alipes, stagnalis, arcturus, areolus, oquassa_ and _marstoni_ may also be regarded as varieties. taken in this wide sense, _s. alpinus_ has a very extensive distribution. in central europe, in the british islands and in the greater part of scandinavia it is confined to mountain lakes, but farther to the north, in both the old world and the new, it lives in the sea and ascends rivers to spawn. in lapland, iceland, greenland and other parts of the arctic regions, it ranks among the commonest fishes. the extreme northern point at which char have been obtained is ° ' n. (victoria lake and floeberg beach, arctic america). it reaches an altitude of ft. in the alps and ft. in the carpathians. the american brook char, _s. fontinalis_, is a close ally of _s. alpinus_, differing from it in having fewer and shorter gill-rakers, a rather stouter body, the back more or less barred or marbled with dark olive or black, and the dorsal and caudal fins mottled or barred with black. many local varieties of colour have been distinguished. sea-run individuals are often nearly plain bright silvery. it is a small species, growing to about in. abundant in all clear, cold streams of north america, east of the mississippi, northward to labrador. the fish has been introduced into other parts of the united states, and also into europe. another member of the same section of salmonidae is the great lake char of north america, _s. namaycush_, one of the largest salmonids, said to attain a weight of lb. the body is very elongate and covered with extremely small scales. the colour varies from grey to black, with numerous round pale spots, which may be tinged with reddish; the dorsal and caudal fins reticulate with darker. this fish inhabits the great lakes regions and neighbouring parts of north america. char-À-banc (fr. for "benched carriage"), a large form of wagonette-like vehicle for passengers, but with benched seats arranged in rows, looking forward, commonly used for large parties, whether as public conveyances or for excursions. character (gr. [greek: charaktêr] from [greek: charattein], to scratch), a distinctive mark (spelt "caracter" up to the th century, with other variants); so applied to symbols of notation or letters of the alphabet; more figuratively, the distinguishing traits of anything, and particularly the moral and mental qualities of an individual human being, the sum of those qualities which distinguish him as a personality. from the latter usage "a character" becomes almost identical with "reputation"; and in the sense of "giving a servant a character," the word involves a written testimonial. for the law relating to servants' characters see master and servant. a further development is the use of "character" to mean an "odd or eccentric person"; or of a "character actor," to mean an actor who plays a highly-coloured strange part. the word is also used as the name of a form of literature, consisting of short descriptions of types of character. well-known examples of such "characters" are those of theophrastus and la bruyère, and in english, of joseph hall ( - ) and sir thomas overbury. charade, a kind of riddle, probably invented in france during the th century, in which a word of two or more syllables is divined by guessing and combining into one word (the answer) the different syllables, each of which is described, as an independent word, by the giver of the charade. charades may be either in prose or verse. of poetic charades those by w. mackworth praed are well known and excellent examples, while the following specimens in prose may suffice as illustrations. "my _first_, with the most rooted antipathy to a frenchman, prides himself, whenever they meet, upon sticking close to his jacket; my _second_ has many virtues, nor is its least that it gives its name to my first; my _whole_ may i never catch!" "my _first_ is company; my _second_ shuns company; my _third_ collects company; and my _whole_ amuses company." the solutions are _tar-tar_ and _co-nun-drum_. the most popular form of this amusement is the acted charade, in which the meaning of the different syllables is acted out on the stage, the audience being left to guess each syllable and thus, combining the meaning of all the syllables, the whole word. a brilliant example of the acted charade is described in thackeray's _vanity fair_. charcoal, the blackish residue consisting of impure carbon obtained by removing the volatile constituents of animal and vegetable substances; wood gives origin to wood-charcoal; sugar to sugar-charcoal; bone to bone-charcoal (which, however, mainly consists of calcium phosphate); while coal gives "coke" and "gas-carbon." the first part of the word charcoal is of obscure origin. the independent use of "char," meaning to scorch, to reduce to carbon, is comparatively recent, and must have been taken from "charcoal," which is quite early. the _new english dictionary_ gives as the earliest instance of "char" a quotation dated . similarly the word "chark" or "chak," meaning the same as "char," is also late, and is probably due to a wrong division of the word "charcoal," or, as it was often spelled in the th and th centuries, "charkole" and "charke-coal." no suggestions for an origin of "char" are satisfactory. it may be a use of the word "chare," which appears in "char-woman," the american "chore"; in all these words it means "turn," a turn of work, a job, and "charcoal" would have to mean "turned coal," i.e. wood changed or turned to coal, a somewhat forced derivation, for which there is no authority. another suggestion is that it is connected with "chirk" or "chark," an old word meaning "to make a grating noise." _wood-charcoal._--in districts where there is an abundance of wood, as in the forests of france, austria and sweden, the operation of charcoal-burning is of the crudest description. the method, which dates back to a very remote period, generally consists in piling billets of wood on their ends so as to form a conical pile, openings being left at the bottom to admit air, with a central shaft to serve as a flue. the whole is covered with turf of moistened soil. the firing is begun at the bottom of the flue, and gradually spreads outwards and upwards. the success of the operation--both as to the intrinsic value of the product and its amount--depends upon the rate of the combustion. under average conditions, parts of wood yield about parts by volume, or parts by weight, of charcoal. the modern process of carbonizing wood--either in small pieces or as sawdust--in cast iron retorts is extensively practised where wood is scarce, and also by reason of the recovery of valuable by-products (wood spirit, pyroligneous acid, wood-tar), which the process permits. the question of the temperature of the carbonization is important; according to j. percy, wood becomes brown at ° c., a deep brown-black after some time at °, and an easily powdered mass at °. charcoal made at ° is brown, soft and friable, and readily inflames at °; made at higher temperatures it is hard and brittle, and does not fire until heated to about °. one of the most important applications of wood-charcoal is as a constituent of gunpowder (q.v.). it is also used in metallurgical operations as a reducing agent, but its application has been diminished by the introduction of coke, anthracite smalls, &c. a limited quantity is made up into the form of drawing crayons; but the greatest amount is used as a fuel. the porosity of wood-charcoal explains why it floats on the surface of water, although it is actually denser, its specific gravity being about . . the porosity also explains the property of absorbing gases and vapours; at ordinary temperatures ammonia and cyanogen are most readily taken up; and sir james dewar has utilized this property for the preparation of high vacua at low temperatures. this character is commercially applied in the use of wood-charcoal as a disinfectant. the fetid gases produced by the putrefaction and waste of organic matter enter into the pores of the charcoal, and there meet with the oxygen previously absorbed from the atmosphere; oxidation ensues, and the noxious effluvia are decomposed. generally, however, the action is a purely mechanical one, the gases being only absorbed. its pharmacological action depends on the same property; it absorbs the gases of the stomach and intestines (hence its use in cases of flatulence), and also liquids and solids. wood-charcoal has also the power of removing colouring matters from solutions, but this property is possessed in a much higher degree by animal-charcoal. _animal-charcoal_ or _bone black_ is the carbonaceous residue obtained by the dry distillation of bones; it contains only about % of carbon, the remainder being calcium and magnesium phosphates ( %) and other inorganic material originally present in the bones. it is generally manufactured from the residues obtained in the glue (q.v.) and gelatin (q.v.) industries. its decolorizing power was applied in by derosne to the clarification of the syrups obtained in sugar-refining; but its use in this direction has now greatly diminished, owing to the introduction of more active and easily managed reagents. it is still used to some extent in laboratory practice. the decolorizing power is not permanent, becoming lost after using for some time; it may be revived, however, by washing and reheating. _lampblack_ or _soot_ is the familiar product of the incomplete combustion of oils, pitch, resins, tallow, &c. it is generally prepared by burning pitch residues (see coal-tar) and condensing the product. thus obtained it is always oily, and, before using as a pigment, it must be purified by ignition in closed crucibles (see carbon). charcot, jean martin ( - ), french physician, was born in paris on the th of november . in he graduated as m.d. of paris university, and three years later was appointed physician of the central hospital bureau. in he became professor of pathological anatomy in the medical faculty of paris, and in began that famous connexion with the salpêtrière which lasted to the end of his life. he was elected to the academy of medicine in , and ten years afterwards became a member of the institute. his death occurred suddenly on the th of august at morvan, where he had gone for a holiday. charcot, who was a good linguist and well acquainted with the literature of his own as well as of other countries, excelled as a clinical observer and a pathologist. his work at the salpêtrière exerted a great influence on the development of the science of neurology, and his classical _leçons sur les maladies du système nerveux_, the first series of which was published in , represents an enormous advance in the knowledge and discrimination of nervous diseases. he also devoted much attention to the study of obscure morbid conditions like hysteria, especially in relation to hypnotism (q.v.); indeed, it is in connexion with his investigation into the phenomena and results of the latter that his name is popularly known. in addition to his labours on neurological and even physiological problems he made many contributions to other branches of medicine, his published works dealing, among other topics, with liver and kidney diseases, gout and pulmonary phthisis. as a teacher he was remarkably successful, and always commanded an enthusiastic band of followers. chard, john rouse merriott ( - ), british soldier, was born at boxhill, near plymouth, on the st of december , and in entered the royal engineers. in lieutenant chard was ordered to south africa to take part in the zulu war, and was stationed at the small post of rorke's drift to protect the bridges across the buffalo river, and some sick men and stores. here, with lieutenant gonville bromhead ( - ) and eighty men of the nd th foot, he heard, on the nd of january , of the disaster of isandhlwana from some fugitives who had escaped the slaughter. believing that the victorious zulus would attempt to cross into natal, they prepared, hastily, to hold the drift until help should come. they barricaded and loopholed the old church and hospital, and improvised defences from wagons, mealie sacks and bags of indian corn. early in the afternoon they were attacked by more than zulus, who, after hours of desperate hand-to-hand fighting, carried the outer defences, an inner low wall of biscuit boxes, and the hospital, room by room. the garrison then retired to the stone kraal, and repulsed attack after attack through the night. the next morning relieving forces appeared, and the enemy retired. the spirited defence of rorke's drift saved natal from a zulu invasion, and chard's and bromhead's gallantry was rewarded with the v.c. and immediate promotion to the rank of captain and brevet-major. on chard's return to england he became a popular hero. from - he commanded the royal engineers at singapore, and was made a colonel in . he died the same year at hatch-beauchamp, near taunton, on the st of november. chard, a market town and municipal borough in the southern parliamentary division of somersetshire, england, ½ m. w. by s. of london by the london & south western railway. pop. ( ) . it stands on high ground within m. of the devonshire border. its cruciform parish church of st mary the virgin is perpendicular of the th century. a fine east window is preserved. the manufactures include linen, lace, woollens, brassware and ironware. chard is governed by a mayor, aldermen and councillors. area, acres. chard (_cerdre_, _cherdre_, _cherde_) was commercial in origin, being a trade centre near the roman road to the west. there are two roman villas in the parish. there was a british camp at neroche in the neighbourhood. the bishop of bath held chard in , and his successor granted in the first charter which made chard a free borough, each burgage paying a rent of d. trade in hides was forbidden to non-burgesses. this charter was confirmed in , and . chard is said to have been incorporated by elizabeth, as the corporation seal dates from , but no elizabethan charter can be found. it was incorporated by grant of charles i. in , and charles ii. gave a charter in . chard was a mesne borough, the first overlord being bishop joceline, whose successors held it (with a brief interval from to ) until , when it was sold to earl poulett. parliamentary representation began in , and was lost in . a market on monday and fair on the th of july were granted in , and confirmed in and , when two more fair days were added (november and may ), the market being changed to tuesday. the market day is now monday, fairs being held on the first wednesday in may, august and november, for corn and cattle only, their medieval importance as centres of the cloth trade having departed. chardin, jean simÉon ( - ), french _genre_ painter, was born in paris, and studied under pierre jacques cazes ( - ), the historical painter, and noël nicolas coypel. he became famous for his still-life pictures and domestic interiors, which are well represented at the louvre, and for figure-painting, as in his _le bénédicité_ ( ). chardin, sir john ( - ), french traveller, was born at paris in . his father, a wealthy jeweller, gave him an excellent education, and trained him in his own art; but instead of settling down in the ordinary routine of the craft, he set out in company with a lyons merchant named raisin in for persia and india, partly on business and partly to gratify his own inclination. after a highly successful journey, during which he had received the patronage of shah abbas ii. of persia, he returned to france in , and there published in the following year _récit du couronnement du roi de perse soliman iii_. finding, however, that his protestant profession cut him off from all hope of honours or advancement in his native country, he set out again for persia in august . this second journey was much more adventurous than the first, as instead of going directly to his destination, he passed by smyrna, constantinople, the crimea, caucasia, mingrelia and georgia, and did not reach ispahan till june . after four years spent in researches throughout persia, he again visited india, and returned to europe by the cape of good hope in . the persecution of protestants in france led him, in , to settle in london, where he was appointed jeweller to the court, and received from charles ii. the honour of knighthood. in he was sent to holland as representative of the english east india company; and in he published the first part of his great narrative--_the travels of sir john chardin into persia and the east indies, &c._ (london). sir john died in london in , and was buried in westminster abbey, where his monument bears the inscription _nomen sibi fecit eundo_. it was not till that the complete account of chardin's travels appeared, under the title of _journal du voyage du chevalier chardin_, at amsterdam. the persian portion is to be found in vol. ii. of harris's _collection_, and extracts are reprinted by pinkerton in vol. ix. the best complete reprint is by langlès (paris, ). sir john chardin's narrative has received the highest praise from the most competent authorities for its fulness, comprehensiveness and fidelity; and it furnished montesquieu, rousseau, gibbon and helvétius with most important material. charente, an inland department of south-western france, comprehending the ancient province of angoumois, and inconsiderable portions of saintonge, poitou, marche, limousin and périgord. it is bounded n. by the departments of deux-sèvres and vienne, e. by those of vienne and dordogne, s. by dordogne and w. by charente-inférieure. area sq. m. pop. ( ) , . the department, though it contains no high altitudes, is for the most part of a hilly nature. the highest points, many of which exceed ft., are found in the confolentais, the granite region of the extreme north-east, known also as the terres froides. in the terres chaudes, under which name the remainder of the department is included, the levels vary in general between and ft., except in the western plains--the pays-bas and champagne--where they range from to ft. a large part of charente is thickly wooded, the principal forests lying in its northern districts. the department, as its name indicates, belongs mainly to the basin of the river charente (area of basin sq. m.; length of river m.), the chief affluents of which, within its borders, are the tardoire, the touvre and the né. the confolentais is watered by the vienne, a tributary of the loire, while the arrondissement of barbexieux in the south-west belongs almost wholly to the basin of the gironde. the climate is temperate but moist, the rainfall being highest in the north-east. agriculturally, charente is prosperous. more than half its surface is arable land, on the greater part of which cereals are grown. the potato is an important crop. the vine is predominant in the region of champagne, the wine produced being chiefly distilled into the famous brandy to which the town of cognac gives its name. the best pasture is found in the confolentais, where horned cattle are largely reared. the chief fruits are chestnuts, walnuts and cider-apples. the poultry raised in the neighbourhood of barbezieux is highly esteemed. charente has numerous stone quarries, and there are peat workings and beds of clay which supply brick and tile-works and earthenware manufactories. among the other industries, paper-making, which has its chief centre at angoulême, is foremost. the most important metallurgical establishment is the large foundry of naval guns at ruelle. flour-mills and leather-works are numerous. there are also many minor industries subsidiary to paper-making and brandy-distilling, and angoulême manufactures gunpowder and confectionery. coal, salt and timber are prominent imports. exports include paper, brandy, stone and agricultural products. the department is served chiefly by the orlêans and ouest-État railways, and the charente is navigable below angoulême. charente is divided into the five arrondissements of angoulême, cognac, ruffec, barbezieux and confolens ( cantons, communes). it belongs to the region of the xii. army corps, to the province of the archbishop of bordeaux, and to the académie (educational division) of poitiers. its court of appeal is at bordeaux. angoulême (the capital), cognac, confolens, jarnac and la rochefoucauld (q.v.) are the more noteworthy places in the department. barbezieux and ruffec, capitals of arrondissements and agricultural centres, are otherwise of little importance. the department abounds in churches of romanesque architecture, of which those of bassac, st amant-de-boixe (portions of which are gothic in style), plassac and gensac-la-pallue may be mentioned. there are remains of a gothic abbey church at la couronne, and roman remains at st cybardeaux, brossac and chassenon (where there are ruins of the gallo-roman town of cassinomagus). charente-infÉrieure, a maritime department of south-western france, comprehending the old provinces of saintonge and aunis, and a small portion of poitou, and including the islands of ré, oléron, aix and madame. area, sq.m. pop. ( ) , . it is bounded n. by vendée, n.e. by deux-sèvres, e. by charente, s.e. by dordogne, s.w. by gironde and the estuary of the gironde, and w. by the bay of biscay. plains and low hills occupy the interior; the coast is flat and marshy, as are the islands (ré, aix, oléron) which lie opposite to it. the department takes its name from the river charente, which traverses it during the last m. of its course and drains the central region. its chief tributaries are on the right the boutonne, on the left the seugne. the climate is temperate and, except along the coast, healthy. there are several sheltered bays on the coast, and several good harbours, the chief of which are la rochelle, rochefort and tonnay-charente, the two latter some distance up the charente. royan on the north shore of the gironde is an important watering-place much frequented for its bathing. the majority of the inhabitants of charente-inférieure live by agriculture. the chief products of the arable land are wheat, oats, maize, barley and the potato. horse and cattle-raising is carried on and dairying is prosperous. a considerable quantity of wine, most of which is distilled into brandy, is produced. the department has a few peat-workings, and produces freestone, lime and cement; the salt-marshes of the coast are important sources of mineral wealth. glass, pottery, bricks and earthenware are prominent industrial products. ship-building, brandy-distilling, iron-founding and machine construction are also carried on. oysters and mussels are bred in the neighbourhood of la rochelle and marennes, and there are numerous fishing ports along the coast. the railways traversing the department belong to the ouest-État system, except one section of the paris-bordeaux line belonging to the orléans company. the facilities of the department for internal communication are greatly increased by the number of navigable streams which water it. the charente, the sèvre niortaise, the boutonne, the seudre and the gironde furnish m. of navigable waterway, to which must be added the m. covered by the canals of the coast. there are arrondissements ( cantons, communes), cognominal with the towns of la rochelle, rochefort, marennes, saintes, jonzac and st jean d'angély--la rochelle being the chief town of the department. the department forms the diocese of la rochelle, and is attached to the th military region, and in educational matters to the académie of poitiers. its court of appeal is at poitiers. la rochelle, st jean d'angély, rochefort and saintes (q.v.) are the principal towns. surgères and aulnay possess fine specimens of the numerous romanesque churches. pons has a graceful château of the th and th centuries, beside which there rises a fine keep of the th century. charenton-le-pont, a town of northern france in the department of seine, situated on the right bank of the marne, at its confluence with the seine, m. s.e. of the fortifications of paris, of which it is a suburb. pop. ( ) , . it derives the distinctive part of its name from the stone bridge of ten arches which crosses the marne and unites the town with alfortville, well known for its veterinary school founded in . it has always been regarded as a point of great importance for the defence of the capital, and has frequently been the scene of sanguinary conflicts. the fort of charenton on the left bank of the marne is one of the older forts of the paris defence. in the th and th centuries charenton was the scene of the ecclesiastical councils of the protestant party, which had its principal church in the town. at st maurice adjoining charenton is the famous hospice de charenton, a lunatic asylum, the foundation of which dates from . till the time of the revolution it was used as a general hospital, and even as a prison, but from onwards it was specially appropriated to the treatment of lunacy. st maurice has two other national establishments, one for the victims of accidents in paris (_asile national vacassy_), the other for convalescent working-men (_asile national de vincennes_). charenton has a port on the canal de st maurice, beside the marne, and carries on boat-building and the manufacture of tiles and porcelain. chares, athenian general, is first heard of in b.c. as assisting the phliasians, who had been attacked by argos and sicyon. in he visited corcyra, where he helped the oligarchs to expel the democrats, a policy which led to the subsequent defection of the island from athens. in , chares was appointed to the command in the social war, together with chabrias, after whose death before chios he was associated with iphicrates and timotheus (for the naval battle in the hellespont, see timotheus). chares, having successfully thrown the blame for the defeat on his colleagues, was left sole commander, but receiving no supplies from athens, took upon himself to join the revolted satrap artabazus. a complaint from the persian king, who threatened to send three hundred ships to the assistance of the confederates, led to the conclusion of peace ( ) between athens and her revolted allies, and the recall of chares. in , he was sent to the assistance of olynthus (q.v.) against philip ii. of macedon, but returned without having effected anything; in the following year, when he reached olynthus, he found it already in the hands of philip. in he was appointed to the command of a force sent to aid byzantium against philip, but the inhabitants, remembering his former plunderings and extortions, refused to receive him. in he was defeated by philip at amphissa, and was one of the commanders at the disastrous battle of chaeroneia. lysicles, one of his colleagues, was condemned to death, while chares does not seem to have been even accused. after the conquest of thebes by alexander ( ), chares is said to have been one of the athenian orators and generals whose surrender was demanded. two years later he was living at sigeum, for arrian (_anabasis_ i. ) states that he went from there to pay his respects to alexander. in he entered the service of darius and took over the command of a persian force in mytilene, but capitulated on the approach of a macedonian fleet on condition of being allowed to retire unmolested. he is last heard of at taenarum, and is supposed to have died at sigeum. although boastful and vain-glorious, chares was not lacking in personal courage, and was among the best athenian generals of his time. at the best, however, he was "hardly more than an ordinary leader of mercenaries" (a. holm). he openly boasted of his profligacy, was exceedingly avaricious, and his bad faith became proverbial. diod. sic. xv. , , xvi. , , , - ; plutarch, _phocion_, ; theopompus, _ap._ athenaeum, xii. p. ; a. schäfer, _demosthenes und seine zeit_ ( ); a. holm, _history of greece_ (eng. trans., ), vol. iii. chares, of lindus in rhodes, a noted sculptor, who fashioned for the rhodians a colossal bronze statue of the sun-god, the cost of which was defrayed by selling the warlike engines left behind by demetrius poliorcetes, when he abandoned the siege of the city in b.c. (pliny, _nat. hist._ xxxiv. ). the colossus was seventy cubits ( ft.) in height; and its fingers were larger than many statues. the notion that the legs were planted apart, so that ships could sail between them, is absurd. the statue was thrown down by an earthquake after years; but the remains lay for ages on the spot. chares, of mytilene, a greek belonging to the suite of alexander the great. he was appointed court-marshal or introducer of strangers to the king, an office borrowed from the persian court. he wrote a history of alexander in ten books, dealing mainly with the private life of the king. the fragments are chiefly preserved in athenaeus. see _scriptores rerum alexandri_ (pp. - ) in the didot edition of arrian. charge (through the fr. from the late lat. _carricare_, to load in a _carrus_ or wagon; cf. "cargo"), a load; from this, its primary meaning, also seen in the word "charger," a large dish, come the uses of the word for the powder and shot to load a firearm, the accumulation of electricity in a battery, the necessary quantity of dynamite or other explosive in blasting, and a device borne on an escutcheon in heraldry. "charge" can thus mean a burden, and so a care or duty laid upon one, as in "to be in charge" of another. with a transference to that which lays such a duty on another, "charge" is used of the instructions given by a judge to a jury, or by a bishop to the clergy of his diocese. in the special sense of a pecuniary burden the word is used of the price of goods, of an encumbrance on property, and of the expenses of running a business. further uses of the word are of the violent, rushing attack of cavalry, or of a bull or elephant, or football player; hence "charger" is a horse ridden in a charge, or more loosely a horse ridden by an officer, whether of infantry or cavalry. chargÉ d'affaires (fr. for "in charge of business"), the title of two classes of diplomatic agents, ( ) _chargés d'affaires_ (_ministres chargés d'affaires_), who were placed by the _règlement_ of the congress of vienna in the th class of diplomatic agents, are heads of permanent missions accredited to countries to which, for some reason, it is not possible or not desirable to send agents of a higher rank. they are distinguished from these latter by the fact that their credentials are addressed by the minister for foreign affairs of the state which they are to represent to the minister for foreign affairs of the receiving state. though still occasionally accredited, ministers of this class are now rare. they have precedence over the other class of _chargés d'affaires_. ( ) _chargés d'affaires per interim_, or _chargés des affaires_, are those who are presented as such, either verbally or in writing, by heads of missions of the first, second or third rank to the minister for foreign affairs of the state to which they are accredited, when they leave their post temporarily, or pending the arrival of their successor. it is usual to appoint a counsellor or secretary of legation _chargé d'affaires_. some governments are accustomed to give the title of minister to such _chargés d'affaires_, which ranks them with the other heads of legation. essentially _chargés d'affaires_ do not differ from ambassadors, envoys or ministers resident. they represent their nation, and enjoy the same privileges and immunities as other diplomatic agents (see diplomacy). charging order, in english law, an order obtained from a court or judge by a judgment creditor under the judgment acts and , by which the property of the judgment debtor in any stocks or funds stands charged with the payment of the amount for which judgment shall have been recovered, with interest. a charging order can only be obtained in respect of an ascertained sum, but this would include a sum ordered to be paid at a future date. an order can be made on stock standing in the name of a trustee in trust for the judgment debtor, or on cash in court to the credit of the judgment debtor, but not on stock held by a debtor as a trustee. the application for a charging order is usually made by motion to a divisional court, though it may be made to a judge. the effect of the order is not that of a contract to pay the debt, but merely of an instrument of charge on the shares, signed by the debtor. an interval of six months must elapse before any proceedings are taken to enforce the charge, but, it necessary, a stop order on the fund and the dividends payable by the debtor can be obtained by the creditor to protect his interest a solicitor employed to prosecute any suit, matter or proceeding in any court, is entitled, on declaration of the court, to a charge for his costs upon the property recovered or preserved in such suit or proceeding. (see _rules of the supreme court_, o. xlix.) charibert (d. ), king of the franks, was the son of clotaire i. on clotaire's death in his estates were divided between his sons, charibert receiving paris as his capital, together with rouen, tours, poitiers, limoges, bordeaux and toulouse. besides his wife, ingoberga, he had unions with merofleda, a wool-carder's daughter, and theodogilda, the daughter of a neatherd. he was one of the most dissolute of the merovingian kings, his early death in being brought on by his excesses. (c. pf.) charidemus, of oreus in euboea, greek mercenary leader. about b.c. he fought under the athenian general iphicrates against amphipolis. being ordered by iphicrates to take the amphipolitan hostages to athens, he allowed them to return to their own people, and joined cotys, king of thrace, against athens. soon afterwards he fell into the hands of the athenians and accepted the offer of timotheus to re-enter their service. having been dismissed by timotheus ( ) he joined the revolted satraps memnon and mentor in asia, but soon lost their confidence, and was obliged to seek the protection of the athenians. finding, however, that he had nothing to fear from the persians, he again joined cotys, on whose murder he was appointed guardian to his youthful son cersobleptes. in , on the arrival of chares with considerable forces, the chersonese was restored to athens. the supporters of charidemus represented this as due to his efforts, and, in spite of the opposition of demosthenes, he was honoured with a golden crown and the franchise of the city. it was further resolved that his person should be inviolable. in he commanded the athenian forces in the chersonese against philip ii. of macedon, and in he superseded chares as commander in the olynthian war. he achieved little success, but made himself detested by his insolence and profligacy, and was in turn replaced by chares. after chaeroneia the war party would have entrusted charidemus[ ] with the command against philip, but the peace party secured the appointment of phocion. he was one of those whose surrender was demanded by alexander after the destruction of thebes, but escaped with banishment. he fled to darius iii., who received him with distinction. but, having expressed his dissatisfaction with the preparations made by the king just before the battle of issus ( ), he was put to death. see diod. sic. xvii. ; plutarch, _phocion_, , ; arrian, _anabasis_, i. ; quintus curtius iii. ; demosthenes, _contra aristocratem_; a. schäfer, _demosthenes und seine zeit_ ( ). footnote: [ ] according to some authorities, this is a second charidemus, the first disappearing from history after being superseded by chares in the olynthian war. charing cross, the locality about the west end of the strand and the north end of whitehall, on the south-east side of trafalgar square, london, england. it falls within the bounds of the city of westminster. here edward i. erected the last of the series of crosses to the memory of his queen, eleanor (d. ). it stood near the present entrance to charing cross station of the south-eastern & chatham railway, in the courtyard of which a fine modern cross has been erected within a few feet of the exact site. a popular derivation of the name connected it with edward's "dear queen" (_chère reine_), and a village of cherringe or charing grew up here later, but the true origin of the name is not known. there is a village of charing in kent, and the name is connected by some with that of a saxon family, cerring. [transcriber's note: obvious printer's errors have been corrected, all other inconsistencies are as in the original. author's spelling has been maintained. every chapter heading had an illustration; the corresponding tag has been removed.] [illustration: spilling grog on the "constitution" before going into action.] the naval history of the united states by willis j. abbot with many illustrations _volume one_ new york: peter fenelon collier, publisher. copyright, , , , by dodd, mead and company _all rights reserved_ contents. the naval history of the united states. _part i._ blue jackets of ' . chapter i. early exploits upon the water. -- gallop's battle with the indians. -- buccaneers and pirates. -- morgan and blackbeard. -- capt. kidd turns pirate. -- downfall of the buccaneers' power. chapter ii. expeditions against neighboring colonies. -- romantic career of sir william phipps. -- quelling a mutiny. -- expeditions against quebec. chapter iii. opening of the american revolution. -- the affair of the schooner "st. john." -- the press-gang and its work. -- the sloop "liberty." -- destruction of the "gaspee." -- the boston tea-party. chapter iv. the beginning of the navy. -- lexington and concord. -- a blow struck in maine. -- capture of the "margaretta." -- gen. washington and the navy. -- work of capt. manly. chapter v. events of . -- the first cruise of the regular navy. -- the "lexington" and the "edward." -- mugford's brave fight. -- loss of the "yankee hero." -- capt. manly, and the "defence." -- american vessels in european waters. -- good work of the "lexington" and the "reprisal." -- the british defeated at charleston. chapter vi. the career of paul jones. -- in command of the "providence." -- capture of the "mellish." -- exploits with the "alfred." -- in command of the "ranger." -- sweeping the english channel. -- the descent upon whitehaven. chapter vii. career of paul jones continued. -- his descent upon the castle of lord selkirk. -- the affair of the plate. -- the descent upon whitehaven. -- the battle with the "drake." -- lieut. simpson's perfidy. chapter viii. career of paul jones continued. -- his search for a ship. -- given command of the "bon homme richard." -- landais and his character. -- the frustrated mutiny. -- landais quarrels with jones. -- edinburgh and leith threatened. -- the dominie's prayer. chapter ix. career of paul jones concluded. -- the battle between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis." -- treachery of landais. -- jones's great victory. -- landais steals the "alliance." -- jones in command of the "ariel." -- the "ariel" in the storm. -- arrival in america. chapter x. career of nicholas biddle. -- his exploit at lewiston jail. -- cruise in the "randolph." -- battle with the "yarmouth." -- the fatal explosion. -- samuel tucker. -- his boyhood. -- encounter with corsairs. -- cruising in the "franklin." -- in command of the "boston." -- anecdotes of capt. tucker. chapter xi. hostilities in . -- american reverses. -- the british in philadelphia. -- the attack upon fort mifflin. -- cruise of the "raleigh" and the "alfred." -- torpedo warfare. -- the battle of the kegs. chapter xii. naval events of . -- recruiting for the navy. -- the descent upon new providence. -- operations on the delaware. -- capt. barry's exploits. -- destruction of the american frigates. -- american reverses. -- the capture of the "pigot." -- french naval exploits. chapter xiii. last years of the war. -- disastrous expedition to the penobscot. -- wholesale captures on the newfoundland banks. -- french ships in american waters. -- taking of charleston. -- the "trumbull's" victory and defeat. -- capt. barry and the "alliance." -- close of the war. chapter xiv. work of the privateers. -- the "gen. hancock" and the "levant." -- exploits of the "pickering" -- the "revenge." -- the "holkar." -- the "congress" and the "savage." -- the "hyder ali" and the "gen. monk." -- the whale-boat hostilities. -- the "old jersey" prison-ship. chapter xv. the navy disbanded. -- aggressions of barbary corsairs. -- a disgraceful tribute. -- bainbridge and the dey. -- gen. eaton at tunis. -- a squadron sent to the mediterranean. -- decatur and the spaniards. -- the "enterprise" and the "tripoli." -- american slaves in algiers. chapter xvi. more vigorous policy. -- commodore morris sent to the mediterranean. -- porter's cutting-out expedition. -- commodore preble sent to the mediterranean. -- his encounter with a british man-of-war. -- the loss of the "philadelphia." -- decatur's daring adventure. chapter xvii. a stirring year. -- the bombardment of tripoli. -- decatur's hand-to-hand fight. -- lieut. trippe's bravery. -- lieut. spence's bold deed. -- somers's narrow escape. -- the floating mine. -- the fatal explosion. -- close of the war. -- the end. _part ii._ blue jackets of . chapter i. the gathering of the war-cloud. -- the revolution ended, but the war for independence yet unfought. -- outrages upon american sailors. -- the right of search. -- impressment. -- boyhood of commodore porter. -- early days of commodores perry and barney. -- burning a privateer. -- the embargo. -- war inevitable chapter ii. war with france. -- the building of a navy. -- first success for the americans. -- cutting out the "sandwich." -- the "constellation" and "l'insurgente." -- the "constellation" and "la vengeance" chapter iii. proposed reduction of the navy. -- renewal of british outrages. -- the affair of the "baltimore." -- attack on the "leander." -- encounter between the "chesapeake" and "leopard." -- the "president" and "little belt" chapter iv. the war on the ocean. -- commodore rodgers's cruise. -- the loss of the "nautilus." -- first success for the british. -- the escape of the "constitution." -- the "essex" takes the "alert." -- the "constitution" and the "guerriere" chapter v. an international debate. -- the "wasp" and the "frolic." -- the "united states" and the "macedonian." -- ovations to the victors chapter vi. bainbridge takes command of the "constitution." -- the defeat of the "java." -- close of the year's hostilities on the ocean. chapter vii. the war on the lakes. -- the attack on sackett's harbor. -- oliver hazard perry ordered to lake erie. -- the battle of put-in-bay. chapter viii. on the ocean. -- the "hornet" sinks the "peacock." -- the blockade. -- adventures of the "sally." -- hostilities on chesapeake bay. -- the cruise of the "president". chapter ix. decatur blockaded at new york. -- attempts to escape through long island sound. -- the flag-ship struck by lightning. -- torpedoes. -- fulton's steam-frigate. -- action between the "chesapeake" and "shannon". chapter x. cruise of the "essex." -- a rich prize. -- the mysterious letter. -- cape horn rounded. -- capture of a peruvian privateer. -- among the british whalers. -- porter in command of a squadron. -- a boy commander. -- the squadron lays up at nookaheevah. chapter xi. war with the savages. -- the campaign against the typees. -- departure from nookaheevah. -- the "essex" anchors at valparaiso. -- arrival of the "phoebe" and "cherub." -- they capture the "essex." -- porter's encounter with the "saturn." -- the mutiny at nookaheevah. chapter xii. capture of the "surveyor." -- work of the gunboat flotilla. -- operations on chesapeake bay. -- cockburn's depredations. -- cruise of the "argus." -- her capture by the "pelican." -- battle between the "enterprise" and "boxer." -- end of the year on the ocean. chapter xiii. on the lakes. -- close of hostilities on lakes erie and huron. -- desultory warfare on lake ontario in . -- hostilities on lake ontario in . -- the battle of lake champlain. -- end of the war upon the lakes. chapter xiv. on the ocean. -- the work of the sloops-of-war. -- loss of the "frolic." -- fruitless cruise of the "adams." -- the "peacock" takes the "epervier." -- the cruise of the "wasp." -- she captures the "reindeer." -- sinks the "avon." -- mysterious end of the "wasp". chapter xv. operations on the new england coast. -- the bombardment of stonington. -- destruction of the united states corvette "adams." -- operations on chesapeake bay. -- work of barney's barge flotilla. -- advance of the british upon washington. -- destruction of the capitol. -- operations against baltimore. -- bombardment of fort mchenry. chapter xvi. desultory hostilities on the ocean. -- attack upon fort bowyer. -- lafitte the pirate. -- british expedition against new orleans. -- battle of the rigolets. -- attack on new orleans, and defeat of the british. -- work of the blue-jackets. -- capture of the frigate "president." -- the "constitution" takes the "cyane" and "levant." -- the "hornet" takes the "penguin." -- end of the war. chapter xvii. privateers and prisons of the war. -- the "rossie." -- salem privateers. -- the "gen. armstrong" gives battle to a british squadron, and saves new orleans. -- narrative of a british officer. -- the "prince de neufchatel." -- experiences of american prisoners of war. -- the end. chapter xviii. the long peace broken by the war with mexico. -- activity of the navy. -- captain stockton's stratagem. -- the battle at san jose. -- the blockade. -- instances of personal bravery. -- the loss of the "truxton." -- yellow fever in the squadron. -- the navy at vera cruz. -- capture of alvarado. chapter xix. the navy in peace. -- surveying the dead sea. -- suppressing the slave trade. -- the franklin relief expedition. -- commodore perry in japan. -- signing of the treaty. -- trouble in chinese waters. -- the koszta case. -- the second franklin relief expedition. -- foote at canton. -- "blood is thicker than water". _part iii._ blue jackets of ' . chapter i. the opening of the conflict. -- the navies of the contestants. -- dix's famous despatch. -- the river-gunboats. chapter ii. fort sumter bombarded. -- attempt of the "star of the west" to re-enforce anderson. -- the naval expedition to fort sumter. -- the rescue of the frigate "constitution." -- burning the norfolk navy-yard. chapter iii. difficulties of the confederates in getting a navy. -- exploit of the "french lady." -- naval skirmishing on the potomac. -- the cruise of the "sumter" chapter iv. the potomac flotilla. -- capture of alexandria. -- actions at matthias point. -- bombardment of the hatteras forts. chapter v. the "trent" affair. -- operations in albemarle and pamlico sounds. -- destruction of the confederate fleet. chapter vi. reduction of newbern. -- exploits of lieut. cushing. -- destruction of the ram "albemarle". chapter vii. the blockade-runners. -- nassau and wilmington. -- work of the cruisers. chapter viii. du pont's expedition to hilton head and port royal. -- the fiery circle. chapter ix. the first ironclad vessels in history. -- the "merrimac" sinks the "cumberland," and destroys the "congress." -- duel between the "monitor" and "merrimac". chapter x. the navy in the inland waters. -- the mississippi squadron. -- sweeping the tennessee river. chapter xi. famous confederate privateers, -- the "alabama," the "shenandoah," the "nashville". chapter xii. work of the gulf squadron. -- the fight at the passes of the mississippi. -- destruction of the schooner "judah." -- the blockade of galveston, and capture of the "harriet lane". chapter xiii. the capture of new orleans. -- farragut's fleet passes fort st. philip and fort jackson. chapter xiv. along the mississippi. -- forts jackson and st. philip surrender. -- the battle at st. charles. -- the ram "arkansas." -- bombardment and capture of port hudson. chapter xv. on to vicksburg. -- bombardment of the confederate stronghold. -- porter's cruise in the forests. chapter xvi. vicksburg surrenders, and the mississippi is opened. -- naval events along the gulf coast. chapter xvii. operations about charleston. -- the bombardment, the siege, and the capture. chapter xviii. the battle of mobile bay. chapter xix. the fall of fort fisher. -- the navy ends its work. _part iv._ blue jackets in time of peace. chapter i. police service on the high seas. -- war service in asiatic ports. -- losses by the perils of the deep. -- a brush with the pirates. -- admiral rodgers at corea. -- services in arctic waters. -- the disaster at samoa. -- the attack on the "baltimore's" men at valparaiso. -- loss of the "kearsarge." -- the naval review. chapter ii. the naval militia. -- a volunteer service which in time of war will be effective. -- how boys are trained for the life of a sailor. -- conditions of enlistment in the volunteer branch of the service. -- the work of the seagoing militia in summer. chapter iii. how the navy has grown. -- the cost and character of our new white ships of war. -- our period of naval weakness and our advance to a place among the great naval powers. -- the new devices of naval warfare. -- the torpedo, the dynamite gun, and the modern rifle. -- armor and its possibilities. _part v._ the naval war with spain. chapter i. the state of cuba. -- pertinacity of the revolutionists. -- spain's sacrifices and failure. -- spanish barbarities. -- the policy of reconcentration. -- american sympathy aroused. -- the struggle in congress. -- the assassination of the "maine." -- report of the commission. -- the onward march to battle. chapter ii. the opening days of the war. -- the first blow struck in the pacific. -- dewey and his fleet. -- the battle at manila. -- an eye-witness' story. -- delay and doubt in the east. -- dull times for the blue-jackets. -- the discovery of cervera. -- hobson's exploit. -- the outlook. chapter iii. the spanish fleet makes a dash from the harbor. -- its total destruction. -- admiral cervera a prisoner. -- great spanish losses. -- american fleet loses but one man. list of illustrations. volume one spilling grog on the "constitution" before going into action. _frontispiece_. commodore esek hopkins. siege of charleston, s.c., may, . captain john paul jones quelling the mob at whitehaven, scotland, nov., . the action between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis," september , . commodore barry. shortening sail on the "lancaster"--the oldest cruiser in commission. commodore decatur. derelict. cutting away the flag. commodore perry. barney regains his ship. toasting the wooden walls of columbia. commodore macdonough. hull makes a reconnoissance. the british squadron. lieut. allen fires a shot. commodore rogers hails. explosion on the "president". "hull her, boys!" loading. ready to board. engagement of the frigates "united states" and "macedonian," christmas day, . assuming to be british men-of-war. marines picking off the enemy. in the cross-trees. perry's recruits. drilling the raw recruits. commodore perry at the battle of lake erie. perry's victory--the battle of lake erie, september , . making ready to leave the "lawrence". awaiting the boarders. "i am commodore rogers". beating to quarters. the last shot of the "chesapeake". on board the "chesapeake". the peruvian privateer. the duel at the galapagos islands. firing the howitzer. volume two destruction of the "maine," havana harbor, feb. , . _frontispiece_ the fight with the "boxer". the surrender of the "boxer". on the way to lake erie. hiram paulding fires the guns. the captain of the "reindeer". the end of the "reindeer". lieut. richmond pearson hobson, who sank the "merrimac" in santiago harbor, june , . the descent of wareham. sharp-shooters. the march on washington. planning the attack. response to the call for volunteers to accompany hobson on the "merrimac". the "president" tries to escape. battleship "massachusetts". prison chaplain and jailer. the last volley of the war. new u. s. torpedo-boat "talbot". the "hartford," farragut's flagship. departure of a naval expedition from port royal. fort moultrie. anderson's command occupying fort sumter. major robert anderson. the "morris"--torpedo-boat of the smallest type-- - / tons displacement, horse-power. blockading the mouth of the mississippi. flag of the confederacy. naval patrol on the potomac. attack on the hatteras forts. spanish merchant steamer "catalina" captured by the cruiser "detroit," april , . flag of south carolina. nassau: the haunt of blockade-runners. cotton ships at nassau. marines saluting on the "lancaster"--our oldest naval vessel in active service. fortress monroe. du pont's expedition off cape hatteras. the opening gun. engagement of the "monitor" and "merrimac," march , . a river gunboat. engagement of the "kearsarge" and "alabama," june , . rescue of capt. semmes. the "nashville" burning a prize. fort pensacola. levee at new orleans before the war. farragut's fleet engaging the enemy near new orleans, april , . breaking the chain. farragut engaging the port hudson (la.) batteries, march, . the "arkansas" under fire. farragut's fleet engaging forts jackson and st. philip and confederate fleet on the mississippi river, below new orleans, april , . the launching of the battleship "iowa". passing the vicksburg batteries. bailey's dam on the red river. engagement between the u. s. flagship "hartford" and the confederate ironclad "tennessee," mobile bay, august , . warships off charleston harbor. battle of mobile bay--union fleet engaging fort morgan and confederate vessels, august , . forward turret of monitor "terror". torpedo-boat "cushing". dynamite cruiser "vesuvius". ensign worth bagley, of the torpedo-boat "winslow," killed may , . partial view of the wreck of the "maine". dewey's victory--the naval fight in manila bay, may , . the defeat of cervera's fleet--the "colon" running ashore. the naval board of strategy, . rear-admiral william thomas sampson. bombardment of san juan, puerto rico, may , . rear-admiral george dewey. admiral sampson's fleet off puerto rico, in search of cervera's vessels, may , . admiral cervera's fleet approaching santiago, may, . commodore john crittenden watson. general miles's expedition to puerto rico, as seen from the deck of the "st. paul". hobson sinking the "merrimac" in the entrance to santiago harbor, june , . rear-admiral winfield scott schley. monitors at league island navy yard, philadelphia. training ship "alliance"--type of the last wooden sloops-of-war. training ships "portsmouth" and "lancaster" at brooklyn navy yard. "racing home"--the battleship "oregon" on her way from san francisco to key west. hammock-inspection on a battleship. armored cruiser "new york" on her way to puerto rico. new york's welcome to the battleship "texas". spanish merchant steamer "panama," captured april , by lighthouse tender "mangrove". forward -inch guns on battleship "indiana". forward deck of dynamite gun-vessel "vesuvius". hospital ship "relief". religious service on battleship "iowa," off havana. the battleship "maine" leaving new york for havana. bombardment of matanzas, cuba, by the "new york," "cincinnati," and "puritan," april , . ironclads in action. bombardment of forts at entrance of santiago harbor, cuba, may , . torpedo-boat "ericsson". deck-tube and projectile of a torpedo-boat. crew of the "indiana" watching the "new york" capture a prize. hurry-work at night on monitor "puritan" at league island navy yard, philadelphia. part i blue-jackets of ' . chapter i. early exploits upon the water. -- gallop's battle with the indians. -- buccaneers and pirates. -- morgan and blackbeard. -- capt. kidd turns pirate. -- downfall of the buccaneers' power. in may, , a stanch little sloop of some twenty tons was standing along long island sound on a trading expedition. at her helm stood john gallop, a sturdy colonist, and a skilful seaman, who earned his bread by trading with the indians that at that time thronged the shores of the sound, and eagerly seized any opportunity to traffic with the white men from the colonies of plymouth or new amsterdam. the colonists sent out beads, knives, bright clothes, and sometimes, unfortunately, rum and other strong drinks. the indians in exchange offered skins and peltries of all kinds; and, as their simple natures had not been schooled to nice calculations of values, the traffic was one of great profit to the more shrewd whites. but the trade was not without its perils. though the indians were simple, and little likely to drive hard bargains, yet they were savages, and little accustomed to nice distinctions between their own property and that of others. their desires once aroused for some gaudy bit of cloth or shining glass, they were ready enough to steal it, often making their booty secure by the murder of the luckless trader. it so happened, that, just before john gallop set out with his sloop on the spring trading cruise, the people of the colony were excitedly discussing the probable fate of one oldham, who some weeks before had set out on a like errand, in a pinnace, with a crew of two white boys and two indians, and had never returned. so when, on this may morning, gallop, being forced to hug the shore by stormy weather, saw a small vessel lying at anchor in a cove, he immediately ran down nearer, to investigate. the crew of the sloop numbered two men and two boys, beside the skipper, gallop. some heavy duck-guns on board were no mean ordnance; and the new englander determined to probe the mystery of oldham's disappearance, though it might require some fighting. as the sloop bore down upon the anchored pinnace, gallop found no lack of signs to arouse his suspicion. the rigging of the strange craft was loose, and seemed to have been cut. no lookout was visible, and she seemed to have been deserted; but a nearer view showed, lying on the deck of the pinnace, fourteen stalwart indians, one of whom, catching sight of the approaching sloop, cut the anchor cable, and called to his companions to awake. this action on the part of the indians left gallop no doubt as to their character. evidently they had captured the pinnace, and had either murdered oldham, or even then had him a prisoner in their midst. the daring sailor wasted no time in debate as to the proper course to pursue, but clapping all sail on his craft, soon brought her alongside the pinnace. as the sloop came up, the indians opened the fight with fire-arms and spears; but gallop's crew responded with their duck-guns with such vigor that the indians deserted the decks, and fled below for shelter. gallop was then in a quandary. the odds against him were too great for him to dare to board, and the pinnace was rapidly drifting ashore. after some deliberation he put up his helm, and beat to windward of the pinnace; then, coming about, came scudding down upon her before the wind. the two vessels met with a tremendous shock. the bow of the sloop struck the pinnace fairly amidships, forcing her over on her beam-ends, until the water poured into the open hatchway. the affrighted indians, unused to warfare on the water, rushed upon deck. six leaped into the sea, and were drowned; the rest retreated again into the cabin. gallop then prepared to repeat his ramming manoeuvre. this time, to make the blow more effective, he lashed his anchor to the bow, so that the sharp flukes protruded; thus extemporizing an iron-clad ram more than two hundred years before naval men thought of using one. thus provided, the second blow of the sloop was more terrible than the first. the sharp fluke of the anchor crashed through the side of the pinnace, and the two vessels hung tightly together. gallop then began to double-load his duck-guns, and fire through the sides of the pinnace; but, finding that the enemy was not to be dislodged in this way, he broke his vessel loose, and again made for the windward, preparatory to a third blow. as the sloop drew off, four or five more indians rushed from the cabin of the pinnace, and leaped overboard but shared the fate of their predecessors, being far from land. gallop then came about, and for the third time bore down upon his adversary. as he drew near, an indian appeared on the deck of the pinnace, and with humble gestures offered to submit. gallop ran alongside, and taking the man on board, bound him hand and foot, and placed him in the hold. a second redskin then begged for quarter; but gallop, fearing to allow the two wily savages to be together, cast the second into the sea, where he was drowned. gallop then boarded the pinnace. two indians were left, who retreated into a small compartment of the hold, and were left unmolested. in the cabin was found the mangled body of mr. oldham. a tomahawk had been sunk deep into his skull, and his body was covered with wounds. the floor of the cabin was littered with portions of the cargo, which the murderous savages had plundered. taking all that remained of value upon his own craft, gallop cut loose the pinnace; and she drifted away, to go to pieces on a reef in narragansett bay. this combat is the earliest action upon american waters of which we have any trustworthy records. the only naval event antedating this was the expedition from virginia, under capt. samuel argal, against the little french settlement of san sauveur. indeed, had it not been for the pirates and the neighboring french settlements, there would be little in the early history of the american colonies to attract the lover of naval history. but about the buccaneers began to commit depredations on the high seas, and it became necessary for the colonies to take steps for the protection of their commerce. in this year an eighteen-gun ship from cambridge, mass., fell in with a barbary pirate of twenty guns, and was hard put to it to escape. and, as the seventeenth century drew near its close, these pests of the sea so increased, that evil was sure to befall the peaceful merchantman that put to sea without due preparation for a fight or two with the sea robbers. it was in the low-lying islands of the gulf of mexico, that these predatory gentry--buccaneers, marooners, or pirates--made their headquarters, and lay in wait for the richly freighted merchantmen in the west india trade. men of all nationalities sailed under the "jolly roger,"--as the dread black flag with skull and cross-bones was called,--but chiefly were they french and spaniards. the continual wars that in that turbulent time racked europe gave to the marauders of the sea a specious excuse for their occupation. thus, many a spanish schooner, manned by a swarthy crew bent on plunder, commenced her career on the spanish main, with the intention of taking only ships belonging to france and england; but let a richly laden spanish galleon appear, after a long season of ill-fortune, and all scruples were thrown aside, the "jolly roger" sent merrily to the fore, and another pirate was added to the list of those that made the highways of the sea as dangerous to travel as the footpad infested common of hounslow heath. english ships went out to hunt down the treacherous spaniards, and stayed to rob and pillage indiscriminately; and not a few of the names now honored as those of eminent english discoverers, were once dreaded as being borne by merciless pirates. but the most powerful of the buccaneers on the spanish main were french, and between them and the spaniards an unceasing warfare was waged. there were desperate men on either side, and mighty stories are told of their deeds of valor. there were pierre françois, who, with six and twenty desperadoes, dashed into the heart of a spanish fleet, and captured the admiral's flag-ship; bartholomew portuguese, who, with thirty men, made repeated attacks upon a great indiaman with a crew of seventy, and though beaten back time and again, persisted until the crew surrendered to the twenty buccaneers left alive; françois l'olonoise, who sacked the cities of maracaibo and gibraltar, and who, on hearing that a man-o'-war had been sent to drive him away, went boldly to meet her, captured her, and slaughtered all of the crew save one, whom he sent to bear the bloody tidings to the governor of havana. such were the buccaneers,--desperate, merciless, and insatiate in their lust for plunder. so numerous did they finally become, that no merchant dared to send a ship to the west indies; and the pirates, finding that they had fairly exterminated their game, were fain to turn landwards for further booty. it was an englishman that showed the sea rovers this new plan of pillage; one louis scott, who descended upon the town of campeche, and, after stripping the place to the bare walls, demanded that a heavy tribute be paid him, in default of which he would burn the town. loaded with booty, he sailed back to the buccaneers' haunts in the tortugas. this expedition was the example that the buccaneers followed for the next few years. city after city fell a prey to the demoniac attacks of the lawless rovers. houses and churches were sacked, towns given to the flames, rich and poor plundered alike; murder was rampant; and men and women were subjected to the most horrid tortures, to extort information as to buried treasures. two great names stand out pre-eminent amid the host of outlaws that took part in this reign of rapine,--l'olonoise and sir henry morgan. the desperate exploits of these two worthies would, if recounted, fill volumes; and probably no more extraordinary narrative of cruelty, courage, suffering, and barbaric luxury could be fabricated. morgan was a welshman, an emigrant, who, having worked out as a slave the cost of his passage across the ocean, took immediate advantage of his freedom to take up the trade of piracy. for him was no pillaging of paltry merchant-ships. he demanded grander operations, and his bands of desperadoes assumed the proportions of armies. many were the towns that suffered from the bloody visitations of morgan and his men. puerto del principe yielded up to them three hundred thousand pieces of eight, five hundred head of cattle, and many prisoners. porto bello was bravely defended against the barbarians; and the stubbornness of the defence so enraged morgan, that he swore that no quarter should be given the defenders. and so when some hours later the chief fortress surrendered, the merciless buccaneer locked its garrison in the guard-room, set a torch to the magazine, and sent castle and garrison flying into the air. maracaibo and gibraltar next fell into the clutches of the pirate. at the latter town, finding himself caught in a river with three men-of-war anchored at its mouth, he hastily built a fire-ship, put some desperate men at the helm, and sent her, a sheet of flame, into the midst of the squadron. the admiral's ship was destroyed; and the pirates sailed away, exulting over their adversaries' discomfiture. rejoicing over their victories, the followers of morgan then planned a venture that should eclipse all that had gone before. this was no less than a descent upon panama, the most powerful of the west indian cities. for this undertaking, morgan gathered around him an army of over two thousand desperadoes of all nationalities. a little village on the island of hispaniola was chosen as the recruiting station; and thither flocked pirates, thieves, and adventurers from all parts of the world. it was a motley crew thus gathered together,--spaniards, swarthy skinned and black haired; wiry frenchmen, quick to anger, and ever ready with cutlass or pistol; malays and lascars, half clad in gaudy colors, treacherous and sullen, with a hand ever on their glittering creeses; englishmen, handy alike with fist, bludgeon, or cutlass, and mightily given to fearful oaths; negroes, moors, and a few west indians mixed with the lawless throng. having gathered his band, procured provisions (chiefly by plundering), and built a fleet of boats, morgan put his forces in motion. the first obstacle in his path was the castle of chagres, which guarded the mouth of the chagres river, up which the buccaneers must pass to reach the city of panama. to capture this fortress, morgan sent his vice-admiral bradley, with four hundred men. the spaniards were evidently warned of their approach; for hardly had the first ship flying the piratical ensign appeared at the mouth of the river, when the royal standard of spain was hoisted above the castle, and the dull report of a shotted gun told the pirates that there was a stubborn resistance in store for them. landing some miles below the castle, and cutting their way with hatchet and sabre through the densely interwoven vegetation of a tropical jungle, the pirates at last reached a spot from which a clear view of the castle could be obtained. as they emerged from the forest to the open, the sight greatly disheartened them. they saw a powerful fort, with bastions, moat, drawbridge, and precipitous natural defences. many of the pirates advised a retreat; but bradley, dreading the anger of morgan, ordered an assault. time after time did the desperate buccaneers, with horrid yells, rush upon the fort, only to be beaten back by the well-directed volleys of the garrison. they charged up to the very walls, threw over fireballs, and hacked the timbers with axes, but to no avail. from behind their impregnable ramparts, the spaniards fired murderous volleys, crying out.-- "come on, you english devils, you heretics, the enemies of god and of the king! let your comrades who are behind come also. we will serve them as we have served you. you shall not get to panama this time." as night fell, the pirates withdrew into the thickets to escape the fire of their enemies, and to discuss their discomfiture. as one group of buccaneers lay in the jungle, a chance arrow, shot by an indian in the fort, struck one of them in the arm. springing to his feet with a cry of rage and pain, the wounded man cried out as he tore the arrow from the bleeding wound,-- "look here, my comrades. i will make this accursed arrow the means of the destruction of all the spaniards." so saying, he wrapped a quantity of cotton about the head of the arrow, charged his gun with powder, and, thrusting the arrow into the muzzle, fired. his comrades eagerly watched the flight of the missile, which was easily traced by the flaming cotton. hurtling through the air, the fiery missile fell upon a thatched roof within the castle, and the dry straw and leaves were instantly in a blaze. with cries of savage joy, the buccaneers ran about picking up the arrows that lay scattered over the battle-field. soon the air was full of the fire-brands, and the woodwork within the castle enclosure was a mass of flame. one arrow fell within the magazine; and a burst of smoke and flame, and the dull roar of an explosion, followed. the spaniards worked valiantly to extinguish the flames, and to beat back their assailants; but the fire raged beyond their control, and the bright light made them easy targets for their foes. there could be but one issue to such a conflict. by morning the fort was in the hands of the buccaneers, and of the garrison of three hundred and fourteen only fourteen were unhurt. over the ruins of the fort the english flag was hoisted, the shattered walls were repaired, and the place made a rendezvous for morgan's forces. on the scene of the battle morgan drilled his forces, and prepared for the march and battles that were to come. after some days' preparation, the expedition set out. the road lay through tangled tropical forests, under a burning sun. little food was taken, as the invaders expected to live on the country; but the inhabitants fled before the advancing column, destroying every thing eatable. soon starvation stared the desperadoes in the face. they fed upon berries, roots, and leaves. as the days passed, and no food was to be found, they sliced up and devoured coarse leather bags. for a time, it seemed that they would never escape alive from the jungle; but at last, weak, weary, and emaciated, they came out upon a grassy plain before the city of panama. here, a few days later, a great battle was fought. the spaniards outnumbered the invaders, and were better provided with munitions of war; yet the pirates, fighting with the bravery of desperate men, were victorious, and the city fell into their hands. then followed days of murder, plunder, and debauchery. morgan saw his followers, maddened by liquor, scoff at the idea of discipline and obedience. fearing that while his men were helplessly drunk the spaniards would rally and cut them to pieces, he set fire to the city, that the stores of rum might be destroyed. after sacking the town, the vandals packed their plunder on the backs of mules, and retraced their steps to the seaboard. their booty amounted to over two millions of dollars. over the division of this enormous sum great dissensions arose, and morgan saw the mutinous spirit spreading rapidly among his men. with a few accomplices, therefore, he loaded a ship with the plunder, and secretly set sail; leaving over half of his band, without food or shelter, in a hostile country. many of the abandoned buccaneers starved, some were shot or hanged by the enraged spaniards; but the leader of the rapacious gang reached jamaica with a huge fortune, and was appointed governor of the island, and made a baronet by the reigning king of england, charles the second. such were some of the exploits of some of the more notorious of the buccaneers. it may be readily imagined, that, with hordes of desperadoes such as these infesting the waters of the west indies, there was little opportunity for the american colonies to build up any maritime interests in that direction. and as the merchantmen became scarce on the spanish main, such of the buccaneers as did not turn landward in search of booty put out to sea, and ravaged the ocean pathways between the colonies and england. it was against these pirates, that the earliest naval operations of the colonies were directed. several cruisers were fitted out to rid the seas of these pests, but we hear little of their success. but the name of one officer sent against the pirates has become notorious as that of the worst villain of them all. it was in january, , that william iii., king of england, issued "to our true and well-beloved capt. william kidd, commander of the ship 'adventure,'" a commission to proceed against "divers wicked persons who commit many and great piracies, robberies, and depredations on the seas." kidd was a merchant of new york, and had commanded a privateer during the last war with france. he was a man of great courage, and, being provided with a stanch ship and brave crew, set out with high hopes of winning great reputation and much prize money. but fortune was against him. for months the "adventure" ploughed the blue waves of the ocean, yet not a sail appeared on the horizon. once, indeed, three ships were seen in the distance. the men of the "adventure" were overjoyed at the prospect of a rich prize. the ship was prepared for action. the men, stripped to the waist, stood at their quarters, talking of the coming battle. kidd stood in the rigging with a spy-glass, eagerly examining the distant vessels. but only disappointment was in store; for, as the ships drew nearer, kidd shut his spy-glass with an oath, saying,-- "they are only three english men-o'-war." continued disappointment bred discontent and mutiny among the crew. they had been enlisted with lavish promises of prize money, but saw before them nothing but a profitless cruise. the spirit of discontent spread rapidly. three or four ships that were sighted proved to be neither pirates nor french, and were therefore beyond the powers of capture granted kidd by the king. kidd fought against the growing piratical sentiment for a long time; but temptation at last overcame him, and he yielded. near the straits of babelmandeb, at the entrance to the red sea, he landed a party, plundered the adjoining country for provisions, and, turning his ship's prow toward the straits, mustered his crew on deck, and thus addressed them:-- "we have been unsuccessful hitherto, my boys," he said, "but take courage. fortune is now about to smile upon us. the fleet of the 'great mogul,' freighted with the richest treasures, is soon to come out of the red sea. from the capture of those heavily laden ships, we will all grow rich." the crew, ready enough to become pirates, cheered lustily: and, turning his back upon all hopes of an honorable career, kidd set out in search of the treasure fleet. after cruising for four days, the "adventure" fell in with the squadron, which proved to be under convoy of an english and a dutch man-of-war. the squadron was a large one, and the ships greatly scattered. by skilful seamanship, kidd dashed down upon an outlying vessel, hoping to capture and plunder it before the convoying men-of-war could come to its rescue. but his first shot attracted the attention of the watchful guardians; and, though several miles away, they packed on all sail, and bore down to the rescue with such spirit that the disappointed pirate was forced to sheer off. kidd was now desperate. he had failed as a reputable privateer, and his first attempt at piracy had failed. thenceforward, he cast aside all scruples, and captured large ships and small, tortured their crews, and for a time seemed resolved to lead a piratical life. but there are evidences that at times this strange man relented, and strove to return to the path of duty and right. on one occasion, a dutch ship crossed the path of the "adventure," and the crew clamorously demanded her capture. kidd firmly refused. a tumult arose. the captain drew his sabre and pistols, and gathering about him those still faithful, addressed the mutineers, saying,-- "you may take the boats and go. but those who thus leave this ship will never ascend its sides again." the mutineers murmured loudly. one man, a gunner, named william moore, stepped forward, saying,-- "you are ruining us all. you are keeping us in beggary and starvation. but for your whims, we might all be prosperous and rich." at this outspoken mutiny, kidd flew into a passion. seizing a heavy bucket that stood near, he dealt moore a terrible blow on the head. the unhappy man fell to the deck with a fractured skull, and the other mutineers sullenly yielded to the captain's will. moore died the next day; and months after, when kidd, after roving the seas, and robbing ships of every nationality, was brought to trial at london, it was for the murder of william moore that he was condemned to die. for kidd's career subsequent to the incident of the dutch ship was that of a hardened pirate. he captured and robbed ships, and tortured their passengers. he went to madagascar, the rendezvous of the pirates, and joined in their revelry and debauchery. on the island were five or six hundred pirates, and ships flying the black flag were continually arriving or departing. the streets resounded with shouts of revelry, with curses, and with the cries of rage. strong drinks were freely used. drunkenness was everywhere. it was no uncommon thing for a hogshead of wine to be opened, and left standing in the streets, that any might drink who chose. the pirates, flush with their ill-gotten gains, spent money on gambling and kindred vices lavishly. the women who accompanied them to this lawless place were decked out with barbaric splendor in silks and jewels. on the arrival of a ship, the debauchery was unbounded. such noted pirates as blackbeard, steed bonnet, and avary made the place their rendezvous, and brought thither their rich prizes and wretched prisoners. blackbeard was one of the most desperate pirates of the age. he, with part of his crew, once terrorized the officials of charleston, s.c., exacting tribute of medicines and provisions. finally he was killed in action, and sixteen of his desperate gang expiated their crimes on the gallows. to madagascar, too, often came the two female pirates, mary read and anne bonny. these women, masquerading in men's clothing, were as desperate and bloody as the men by whose side they fought. by a strange coincidence, these two women enlisted on the same ship. each knowing her own sex, and being ignorant of that of the other, they fell in love; and the final discovery of their mutual deception increased their intimacy. after serving with the pirates, working at the guns, swinging a cutlass in the boarding parties, and fighting a duel in which she killed her opponent, mary read determined to escape. there is every evidence that she wearied of the evil life she was leading, and was determined to quit it; but, before she could carry her intentions into effect, the ship on which she served was captured, and taken to england, where the pirates expiated their crimes on the gallows, mary read dying in prison before the day set for her execution. after some months spent in licentious revelry at madagascar, kidd set out on a further cruise. during this voyage he learned that he had been proscribed as a pirate, and a price set on his head. strange as it may appear, this news was a surprise to him. he seems to have deceived himself into thinking that his acts of piracy were simply the legitimate work of a privateersman. for a time he knew not what to do; but as by this time the coarse pleasures of an outlaw's life were distasteful to him, he determined to proceed to new york, and endeavor to prove himself an honest man. this determination proved to be an unfortunate one for him; for hardly had he arrived, when he was taken into custody, and sent to england for trial. he made an able defence, but was found guilty, and sentenced to be hanged; a sentence which was executed some months later, in the presence of a vast multitude of people, who applauded in the death of kidd the end of the reign of outlaws upon the ocean. chapter ii. expeditions against neighboring colonies. -- romantic career of sir william phipps. -- quelling a mutiny. -- expeditions against quebec. while it was chiefly in expeditions against the buccaneers, or in the defence of merchantmen against these predatory gentry, that the american colonists gained their experience in naval warfare, there were, nevertheless, some few naval expeditions fitted out by the colonists against the forces of a hostile government. both to the north and south lay the territory of france and spain,--england's traditional enemies; and so soon as the colonies began to give evidence of their value to the mother country, so soon were they dragged into the quarrels in which the haughty mistress of the seas was ever plunged. of the southern colonies, south carolina was continually embroiled with spain, owing to the conviction of the spanish that the boundaries of florida--at that time a spanish colony--included the greater part of the carolinas. for the purpose of enforcing this idea, the spaniards, in , fitted out an expedition of four ships-of-war and a galley, which, under the command of a celebrated french admiral, was despatched to take charleston. the people of charleston were in no whit daunted, and on the receipt of the news of the expedition began preparations for resistance. they had no naval vessels; but several large merchantmen, being in port, were hastily provided with batteries, and a large galley was converted into a flag-ship. having no trained naval officers, the command of the improvised squadron was tendered to a certain lieut.-col. rhett, who possessed the confidence of the colonists. rhett accepted the command; and when the attacking party cast anchor some miles below the city, and landed their shore forces, he weighed anchor, and set out to attack them. but the spaniards avoided the conflict, and fled out to sea, leaving their land forces to bear the brunt of battle. in this action, more than half of the invaders were killed or taken prisoners. some days later, one of the spanish vessels, having been separated from her consorts, was discovered by rhett, who attacked her, and after a sharp fight captured her, bringing her with ninety prisoners to charleston. but it was chiefly in expeditions against the french colonies to the northward that the naval strength of the english colonies was exerted. particularly were the colonies of port royal, in acadia, and the french stronghold of quebec coveted by the british, and they proved fertile sources of contention in the opening years of the eighteenth century. although the movement for the capture of these colonies was incited by the ruling authorities of great britain, its execution was left largely to the colonists. one of the earliest of these expeditions was that which sailed from nantasket, near boston, in april, , bound for the conquest of port royal. this expedition was under the command of sir william phipps, a sturdy colonist, whose life was not devoid of romantic episodes. though his ambitions were of the lowliest,--his dearest wish being "to command a king's ship, and own a fair brick house in the green lane of north boston,"--he managed to win for himself no small amount of fame and respect in the colonies. his first achievement was characteristic of that time, when spanish galleons, freighted with golden ingots, still sailed the seas, when pirates buried their booty, and when the treasures carried down in sunken ships were not brought up the next day by divers clad in patented submarine armor. from a weather-beaten old seaman, with whom he became acquainted while pursuing his trade of ship-carpentering phipps learned of a sunken wreck lying on the sandy bottom many fathoms beneath the blue surface of the gulf of mexico. the vessel had gone down fifty years before, and had carried with her great store of gold and silver, which she was carrying from the rich mines of central and south america to the court of spain. phipps, laboriously toiling with adze and saw in his ship-yard, listened to the story of the sailor, his blood coursing quicker in his veins, and his ambition for wealth and position aroused to its fullest extent. here, then, thought he, was the opportunity of a lifetime. could he but recover the treasures carried down with the sunken ship, he would have wealth and position in the colony. with these two allies at his command, the task of securing a command in the king's navy would be an easy one. but to seek out the sunken treasure required a ship and seamen. clearly his own slender means could never meet the demands of so great an undertaking. therefore, gathering together all his small savings, william phipps set sail for england, in the hopes of interesting capitalists there in his scheme. by dint of indomitable persistence, the unknown american ship-carpenter managed to secure the influence of certain officials of high station in england, and finally managed to get the assistance of the british admiralty. a frigate, fully manned, was given him, and he set sail for the west indies. once arrived in the waters of the spanish main, he began his search. cruising about the spot indicated by his seafaring informant as the location of the sunken vessel, sounding and dredging occupied the time of the treasure-seekers for months. the crew, wearying of the fruitless search, began to murmur, and signs of mutiny were rife. phipps, filled with thoughts of the treasure for which he sought, saw not at all the lowering looks, nor heard the half-uttered threats, of the crew as he passed them. but finally the mutiny so developed that he could no longer ignore its existence. it was then the era of the buccaneers. doubtless some of the crew had visited the outlaws' rendezvous at new providence, and had told their comrades of the revelry and ease in which the sea robbers spent their days. and so it happened that one day, as phipps stood on the quarter-deck vainly trying to choke down the nameless fear that had begun to oppress him,--the fear that his life's venture had proved a failure,--his crew came crowding aft, armed to the teeth, and loudly demanded that the captain should abandon his foolish search, and lead them on a fearless buccaneering cruise along the spanish main. the mutiny was one which might well have dismayed the boldest sea captain. the men were desperate, and well armed. phipps was almost without support; for his officers, by their irresolute and timid demeanor, gave him little assurance of aid. standing on the quarter-deck, phipps listened impatiently to the complaints of the mutineers; but, when their spokesman called upon him to lead them upon a piratical cruise, he lost all control of himself, and, throwing all prudence to the winds, sprung into the midst of the malcontents, and laid about him right manfully with his bare fists. the mutineers were all well armed, but seemed loath to use their weapons; and the captain, a tall, powerful man, soon awed them all into submission. though he showed indomitable energy in overcoming obstacles, phipps was not destined to discover the object of his search at this time; and, after several months' cruising, he was forced, by the leaky condition of his vessel, to abandon the search. but, before leaving the waters of the spanish main, he obtained enough information to convince him that his plan was a practicable one, and no mere visionary scheme. on reaching england, he went at once to some wealthy noblemen, and, laying before them all the facts in his possession, so interested them in the project that they readily agreed to supply him with a fresh outfit. after a few weeks spent in organizing his expedition, the treasure-seeker was again on the ocean, making his way toward the mexican gulf. this time his search was successful, and a few days' work with divers and dredges about the sunken ship brought to light bullion and specie to the amount of more than a million and a half dollars. as his ill success in the first expedition had embroiled him with his crew, so his good fortune this time aroused the cupidity of the sailors. vague rumors of plotting against his life reached the ears of phipps. examining further into the matter, he learned that the crew was plotting to seize the vessel, divide the treasure, and set out upon a buccaneering cruise. alarmed at this intelligence, phipps strove to conciliate the seamen by offering them a share of the treasure. each man should receive a portion, he promised, even if he himself had to pay it. the men agreed to this proposition; and so well did phipps keep his word with them on returning to england, that, of the whole treasure, only about eighty thousand dollars remained to him as his share. this, however, was an ample fortune for those times; and with it phipps returned to boston, and began to devote himself to the task of securing a command in the royal navy. his first opportunity to distinguish himself came in the expedition of against port royal. throughout the wars between france and england, the french settlement of port royal had been a thorn in the flesh of massachusetts. from port royal, the trim-built speedy french privateers put to sea, and seldom returned without bringing in their wake some captured coaster or luckless fisherman hailing from the colony of the puritans. when the depredations of the privateers became unbearable, massachusetts bestirred herself, and the doughty phipps was sent with an expedition to reduce their unneighborly neighbor to subjection. seven vessels and two hundred and eighty-eight men were put under the command of the lucky treasure-hunter. the expedition was devoid of exciting or novel features. port royal was reached without disaster, and the governor surrendered with a promptitude which should have won immunity for the people of the village. but the massachusetts sailors had not undertaken the enterprise for glory alone, and they plundered the town before taking to their ships again. this expedition, however, was but an unimportant incident in the naval annals of the colonies. it was followed quickly by an expedition of much graver importance. when phipps returned after capturing and plundering port royal, he found boston vastly excited over the preparations for an expedition against quebec. the colony was in no condition to undertake the work of conquest. prolonged indian wars had greatly depleted its treasury. vainly it appealed to england for aid, but, receiving no encouragement, sturdily determined to undertake the expedition unaided. sailors were pressed from the merchant-shipping. trained bands, as the militia of that day was called, drilled in the streets, and on the common. subscription papers were being circulated; and vessel owners were blandly given the choice between voluntarily loaning their vessels to the colony, or having them peremptorily seized. in this way a fleet of thirty-two vessels had been collected; the largest of which was a ship called the "six friends," built for the west india trade, and carrying forty-four guns. this armada was manned by seamen picked up by a press so vigorous, that gloucester, the chief seafaring town of the colony, was robbed of two-thirds of its men. hardly had capt. phipps, flushed with victory, returned from his port royal expedition, when he was given command of the armada destined for the capture of quebec. early in august the flotilla set sail from boston harbor. the day was clear and warm, with a light breeze blowing. from his flag-ship phipps gave the signal for weighing anchor, and soon the decks of the vessels thickly strewn about the harbor resounded to the tread of men about the capstan. thirty-two vessels of the squadron floated lightly on the calm waters of the bay; and darting in and out among them were light craft carrying pleasure-seekers who had come down to witness the sailing of the fleet, friends and relatives of the sailors who were there to say farewell, and the civic dignitaries who came to wish the expedition success. one by one the vessels beat their way down the bay, and, rounding the dangerous reef at the mouth of the harbor, laid their course to the northward. it was a motley fleet of vessels. the "six brothers" led the way, followed by brigs, schooners, and many sloop-rigged fishing-smacks. with so ill-assorted a flotilla, it was impossible to keep any definite sailing order. the first night scattered the vessels far and wide, and thenceforward the squadron was not united until it again came to anchor just above the mouth of the st. lawrence. it seemed as though the very elements had combined against the voyagers. though looking for summer weather, they encountered the bitter gales of november. only after they had all safely entered the st. lawrence, and were beyond injury from the storms, did the gales cease. they had suffered all the injury that tempestuous weather could do them, and they then had to chafe under the enforced restraints of a calm. phipps had rallied his scattered fleet, and had proceeded up the great river of the north to within three days' sail of quebec, when the calm overtook him. on the way up the river he had captured two french luggers, and learned from his prisoners that quebec was poorly fortified, that the cannon on the redoubts were dismounted, and that hardly two hundred men could be rallied to its defence. highly elated at this, the massachusetts admiral pressed forward. he anticipated that quebec, like port royal, would surrender without striking a blow. visions of high honors, and perhaps even a commission in the royal navy, floated across his brain. and while thus hurrying forward his fleet, drilling his men, and building his air-castles, his further progress was stopped by a dead calm which lasted three weeks. how fatal to his hopes that calm was, phipps, perhaps, never knew. the information he had wrung from his french prisoners was absolutely correct. quebec at that time was helpless, and virtually at his mercy. but, while the massachusetts armada lay idly floating on the unruffled bosom of the river, a man was hastening towards quebec whose timely arrival meant the salvation of the french citadel. this man was frontenac, then governor of the french colony, and one of the most picturesque figures in american history. a soldier of france; a polished courtier at the royal court; a hero on the battle-field, and a favorite in the ball-room; a man poor in pocket, but rich in influential connections,--frontenac had come to the new world to seek that fortune and position which he had in vain sought in the old. when the vague rumors of the hostile expedition of the massachusetts colony reached his ears, frontenac was far from quebec, toiling in the western part of the colony. wasting no time, he turned his steps toward the threatened city. his road lay through an almost trackless wilderness; his progress was impeded by the pelting rains of the autumnal storms. but through forest and through rain he rode fiercely; and at last as he burst from the forest, and saw towering before him the rocks of cape diamond, a cry of joy burst from his lips. on the broad, still bosom of the st lawrence bay floated not a single hostile sail. the soldier had come in time. with the governor in the city, all took courage, and the work of preparation for the coming struggle went forward with a rush. far and wide throughout the parishes was spread the news of war, and daily volunteers came flocking in to the defence. the ramparts were strengthened, and cannon mounted. volunteers and regulars drilled side by side, until the four thousand men in the city were converted into a well-disciplined body of troops. and all the time the sentinels on the saut au matelot were eagerly watching the river for the first sign of the english invaders. it was before dawn, on the morning of oct. , that the people of the little city, and the soldiery in the tents, were awakened by the alarm raised by the sentries. all rushed to the brink of the heights, and peered eagerly out into the darkness. far down the river could be seen the twinkling lights of vessels. as the eager watchers strove to count them, other lights appeared upon the scene, moving to and fro, but with a steady advance upon quebec. the gray dawn, breaking in the east, showed the advancing fleet. frontenac and his lieutenants watched the ships of the enemy round the jutting headland of the point of orleans; and, by the time the sun had risen, thirty-four hostile craft were at anchor in the basin of quebec. the progress of the fleet up the river, from the point at which it had been so long delayed, had been slow, and greatly impeded by the determined hostility of the settlers along the banks. the sailors at their work were apt to be startled by the whiz of a bullet; and an inquiry as to the cause would have probably discovered some crouching sharp-shooter, his long rifle in his hand, hidden in a clump of bushes along the shore. bands of armed men followed the fleet up the stream, keeping pace with the vessels, and occasionally affording gentle reminders of their presence in the shape of volleys of rifle-balls that sung through the crowded decks of the transports, and gave the sailor lads a hearty disgust for this river fighting. phipps tried repeatedly to land shore parties to clear the banks of skirmishers, and to move on the city by land. as often, however, as he made the effort, his troops were beaten back by the ambushed sharp-shooters, and his boats returned to the ships, bringing several dead and wounded. while the soldiery on the highlands of quebec were eagerly examining the hostile fleet, the invaders were looking with wonder and admiration at the scene of surpassing beauty spread out before them. parkman, the historian and lover of the annals of the french in america, thus describes it:-- "when, after his protracted voyage, phipps sailed into the basin of quebec, one of the grandest scenes on the western continent opened upon his sight. the wide expanse of waters, the lofty promontory beyond, and the opposing heights of levi, the cataract of montmorenci, the distant range of the laurentian mountains, the warlike rock with its diadem of walls and towers, the roofs of the lower town clustering on the strand beneath, the chateau st. louis perched at the brink of the cliff, and over it the white banner, spangled with _fleurs de lis_, flaunting defiance in the clear autumnal air." little time was spent, however, in admiration of the scene. when the click of the last chain-cable had ceased, and, with their anchors reposing at the bottom of the stream, the ships swung around with their bows to the current, a boat put off from the flag-ship bearing an officer intrusted with a note from phipps to the commandant of the fort. the reception of this officer was highly theatrical. half way to the shore he was taken into a french canoe, blindfolded, and taken ashore. the populace crowded about him as he landed, hooting and jeering him as he was led through winding, narrow ways, up stairways, and over obstructions, until at last the bandage was torn from his eyes, and he found himself in the presence of frontenac. the french commander was clad in a brilliant uniform, and surrounded by his staff, gay in warlike finery. with courtly courtesy he asked the envoy for his letter, which, proving to be a curt summons to surrender, he answered forthwith in a stinging speech. the envoy, abashed, asked for a written answer. "no," thundered frontenac, "i will answer your master only by the mouths of my cannon, that he may learn that a man like me is not to be summoned after this fashion. let him do his best, and i will do mine." the envoy returned to his craft, and made his report. the next day hostilities opened. wheeling his ships into line before the fortifications, phipps opened a heavy fire upon the city. from the frowning ramparts on the heights, frontenac's cannon answered in kind. fiercely the contest raged until nightfall, and vast was the consumption of gunpowder; but damage done on either side was but little. all night the belligerents rested on their arms; but, at daybreak, the roar of the cannonade recommenced. the gunners of the opposing forces were now upon their mettle, and the gunnery was much better than the day before. a shot from the shore cut the flagstaff of the admiral's ship, and the cross of st. george fell into the river. straightway a canoe put out from the shore, and with swift, strong paddle-strokes was guided in chase of the floating trophy. the fire of the fleet was quickly concentrated upon the adventurous canoeists. cannon-balls and rifle-bullets cut the water about them; but their frail craft survived the leaden tempest, and they captured the trophy, and bore it off in triumph. phipps felt that the incident was an unfavorable omen, and would discourage his men. he cast about in his mind for a means of retaliation. far over the roofs of the city rose a tapering spire, that of the cathedral in the upper town. on this spire, the devout catholics of the french city had hung a picture of the holy family as an invocation of divine aid. through his spy-glass, phipps could see that some strange object hung from the steeple, and, suspecting its character, commanded the gunners to try to knock it down. for hours the puritans wasted their ammunition in this vain target-practice, but to no avail. the picture still hung on high; and the devout frenchmen ascribed its escape to a miracle, although its destruction would have been more miraculous still. it did not take long to convince phipps that in this contest his fleet was getting badly worsted, and he soon withdrew his vessels to a place of safety. the flag-ship had been fairly riddled with shot; and her rigging was so badly cut, that she could only get out of range of the enemy's guns by cutting her cables, and drifting away with the current. her example was soon followed by the remaining vessels. sorely crestfallen, phipps abandoned the fight, and prepared to return to boston. his voyage thither was stormy; and three or four of his vessels never were heard of, having been dashed to pieces by the waves, or cast away upon the iron-bound coast of nova scotia or maine. his expedition was the most costly in lives and in treasure ever undertaken by a single colony, and, despite its failure, forms the most notable incident in the naval annals of the colonies prior to the revolution. the french colonies continued to be a fruitful source of war and turmoil. many were the joint military and naval expeditions fitted out against them by the british colonies. quebec, louisbourg, and port royal were all threatened; and the two latter were captured by colonial expeditions. from a naval point of view, these expeditions were but trifling. they are of some importance, however, in that they gave the colonists an opportunity to try their prowess on the ocean; and in this irregular service were bred some sailors who fought right valiantly for the rebellious colonies against the king, and others who did no less valiant service under the royal banner. chapter iii. opening of the american revolution. -- the affair of the schooner "st. john." -- the press-gang and its work. -- the sloop "liberty." -- destruction of the "gaspee." -- the boston tea-party. it is unnecessary to enter into an account of the causes that led up to the revolt of the american colonies against the oppression of king george and his subservient parliament. the story of the stamp act, the indignation of the colonies, their futile attempts to convince parliament of the injustice of the measure, the stern measures adopted by the british to put down the rising insubordination, the boston massacre, and the battles at concord and lexington are familiar to every american boy. but not every young american knows that almost the first act of open resistance to the authority of the king took place on the water, and was to some extent a naval action. the revenue laws, enacted by the english parliament as a means of extorting money from the colonies, were very obnoxious to the people of america. particularly did the colonists of rhode island protest against them, and seldom lost an opportunity to evade the payment of the taxes. between providence and newport, illicit trade flourished; and the waters of narragansett bay were dotted with the sail of small craft carrying cargoes on which no duties had ever been paid. in order to stop this nefarious traffic, armed vessels were stationed in the bay, with orders to chase and search all craft suspected of smuggling. the presence of these vessels gave great offence to the colonists, and the inflexible manner in which the naval officers discharged their duty caused more than one open defiance of the authority of king george. the first serious trouble to grow out of the presence of the british cruisers in the bay was the affair of the schooner "st. john." this vessel was engaged in patrolling the waters of the bay in search of smugglers. while so engaged, her commander, lieut. hill, learned that a brig had discharged a suspicious cargo at night near howland's ferry. running down to that point to investigate, the king's officers found the cargo to consist of smuggled goods; and, leaving a few men in charge, the cruiser hastily put out to sea in pursuit of the smuggler. the swift sailing schooner soon overtook the brig, and the latter was taken in to newport as a prize. although this affair occurred early in , the sturdy colonists even then had little liking for the officers of the king. the sailors of the "st. john," careless of the evident dislike of the citizens of the town, swaggered about the streets, boasting of their capture, and making merry at the expense of the yankees. two or three fights between sailors and townspeople so stirred up the landsmen, that they determined to destroy the "st. john," and had actually fitted up an armed sloop for that purpose, when a second man-of-war appeared in the harbor and put a final stopper to the project. though thus balked of their revenge, the townspeople showed their hatred for the king's navy by seizing a battery, and firing several shots at the two armed vessels, but without effect. during the same year, the little town of newport again gave evidence of the growth of the revolutionary spirit. this time the good old british custom of procuring sailors for the king's ships by a system of kidnapping, commonly known as impressment, was the cause of the outbreak. for some months the british man-of-war "maidstone" lay in the harbor of newport, idly tugging at her anchors. it was a period of peace, and her officers had nothing to occupy their attention. therefore they devoted themselves to increasing the crew of the vessel by means of raids upon the taverns along the water-front of the city. the seafaring men of newport knew little peace while the "maidstone" was in port. the king's service was the dread of every sailor; and, with the press-gang nightly walking the streets, no sailor could feel secure. all knew the life led by the sailors on the king's ships. those were the days when the cat-o'-nine-tails flourished, and the command of a beardless bit of a midshipmen was enough to send a poor fellow to the gratings, to have his back cut to pieces by the merciless lash. the yankee sailors had little liking for this phase of sea-life, and they gave the men-of-war a wide berth. often it happened, however, that a party of jolly mariners sitting over their pipes and grog in the snug parlor of some seashore tavern, spinning yarns of the service they had seen on the gun-decks of his majesty's ships, or of shipwreck and adventure in the merchant service, would start up and listen in affright, as the measured tramp of a body of men came up the street. then came the heavy blow on the door. "open in the king's name," shouts a gruff voice outside; and the entrapped sailors, overturning the lights, spring for doors and windows, in vain attempts to escape the fate in store for them. the press-gang seldom returned to the ship empty handed, and the luckless tar who once fell into their clutches was wise to accept his capture good-naturedly; for the bos'n's cat was the remedy commonly prescribed for sulkiness. as long as the "maidstone" lay in the harbor of newport, raids such as this were of common occurrence. the people of the city grumbled a little; but it was the king's will, and none dared oppose it. the wives and sweethearts of the kidnapped sailors shed many a bitter tear over the disappearance of their husbands and lovers; but what were the tears of women to king george? and so the press-gang of the "maidstone" might have continued to enjoy unopposed the stirring sport of hunting men like beasts, had the leaders not committed one atrocious act of inhumanity that roused the long-suffering people to resistance. one breezy afternoon, a stanch brig, under full sail, came up the bay, and entered the harbor of newport. her sides were weather-beaten, and her dingy sails and patched cordage showed that she had just completed her long voyage. her crew, a fine set of bronzed and hardy sailors, were gathered on her forecastle, eagerly regarding the cluster of cottages that made up the little town of newport. in those cottages were many loved ones, wives, mothers, and sweethearts, whom the brave fellows had not seen for long and weary months; for the brig was just returning from a voyage to the western coast of africa. it is hard to describe the feelings aroused by the arrival of a ship in port after a long voyage. from the outmost end of the longest wharf the relatives and friends of the sailors eagerly watch the approaching vessel, striving to find in her appearance some token of the safety of the loved ones on board. if a flag hangs at half-mast in the rigging, bitter is the suspense, and fearful the dread, of each anxious waiter, lest her husband or lover or son be the unfortunate one whose death is mourned. and on the deck of the ship the excitement is no less great. even the hardened breast of the sailor swells with emotion when he first catches sight of his native town, after long months of absence. with eyes sharpened by constant searching for objects upon the broad bosom of the ocean, he scans the waiting crowd, striving to distinguish in the distance some well-beloved face. his spirits are light with the happy anticipation of a season in port with his loved ones, and he discharges his last duties before leaving the ship with a blithe heart. so it was with the crew of the home-coming brig. right merrily they sung out their choruses as they pulled at the ropes, and brought the vessel to anchor. the rumble of the hawser through the hawseholes was sweet music to their ears; and so intent were they upon the crowd on the dock, that they did not notice two long-boats which had put off from the man-of-war, and were pulling for the brig. the captain of the merchantman, however, noticed the approach of the boats, and wondered what it meant. "those fellows think i've smuggled goods aboard," said he. "however, they can spend their time searching if they want. i've nothing in the hold i'm afraid to have seen." the boats were soon alongside; and two or three officers, with a handful of jackies, clambered aboard the brig. "muster your men aft, captain," said the leader, scorning any response to the captain's salutation. "the king has need of a few fine fellows for his service." "surely, sir, you are not about to press any of these men," protested the captain. "they are just returning after a long voyage, and have not yet seen their families." "what's that to me, sir?" was the response. "muster your crew without more words." sullenly the men came aft, and ranged themselves in line before the boarding-officers. each feared lest he might be one of those chosen to fill the ship's roll of the "maidstone;" yet each cherished the hope that he might be spared to go ashore, and see the loved ones whose greeting he had so fondly anticipated. the boarding-officers looked the crew over, and, after consulting together, gruffly ordered the men to go below, and pack up their traps. "surely you don't propose to take my entire crew?" said the captain of the brig in wondering indignation. "i know my business, sir," was the gruff reply, "and i do not propose to suffer any more interference." the crew of the brig soon came on deck, carrying their bags of clothes, and were ordered into the man-o'-war's boats, which speedily conveyed them to their floating prison. their fond visions of home had been rudely dispelled. they were now enrolled in his majesty's service, and subject to the will of a blue-coated tyrant. this was all their welcome home. when the news of this cruel outrage reached the shore, the indignation of the people knew no bounds. the thought of their fellow-townsmen thus cruelly deprived of their liberty, at the conclusion of a long and perilous voyage, set the whole village in a turmoil. wild plots were concocted for the destruction of the man-of-war, that, sullen and unyielding, lay at her anchorage in the harbor. but the wrong done was beyond redress. the captured men were not to be liberated. there was no ordnance in the little town to compete with the guns of the "maidstone," and the enraged citizens could only vent their anger by impotent threats and curses. bands of angry men and boys paraded the streets, crying, "down with the press-gang," and invoking the vengeance of heaven upon the officers of the man-of-war. finally, they found a boat belonging to the "maidstone" lying at a wharf. dragging this ashore, the crowd procured ropes, and, after pulling the captured trophy up and down the streets, took it to the common in front of the court-house, where it was burned in the presence of a great crowd, which heaped execrations upon the heads of the officers of the "maidstone," and king george's press-gang. after this occurrence, there was a long truce between the people of newport and the officers of the british navy. but the little town was intolerant of oppression, and the revolutionary spirit broke out again in . historians have eulogized boston as the cradle of liberty, and by the british pamphleteers of that era the massachusetts city was often called a hot-bed of rebellion. it would appear, however, that, while the people of boston were resting contentedly under the king's rule, the citizens of newport were chafing under the yoke, and were quick to resist any attempts at tyranny. it is noticeable, that, in each outbreak of the people of newport against the authority of the king's vessels, the vigor of the resistance increased, and their acts of retaliation became bolder. thus in the affair of the "st. john" the king's vessel was fired on, while in the affair of the "maidstone" the royal property was actually destroyed. in the later affairs with the sloop "liberty" and the schooner "gaspee," the revolt of the colonists was still more open, and the consequences more serious. in the armed sloop "liberty," capt. reid, was stationed in narragansett bay for the purpose of enforcing the revenue laws. her errand made her obnoxious to the people on the coast, and the extraordinary zeal of her captain in discharging his duty made her doubly detested by seafaring people afloat or shore. on the th of july the "liberty," while cruising near the mouth of the bay, sighted a sloop and a brig under full sail, bound out. promptly giving chase, the armed vessel soon overtook the merchantmen sufficiently to send a shot skipping along the crests of the waves, as a polite invitation to stop. the two vessels hove to, and a boat was sent from the man-of-war to examine their papers, and see if all was right. though no flaw was found in the papers of either vessel, capt. reid determined to take them back to newport, which was done. in the harbor the two vessels were brought to anchor under the guns of the armed sloop, and without any reason or explanation were kept there several days. after submitting to this wanton detention for two days, capt. packwood of the brig went on board the "liberty" to make a protest to capt. reid, and at the same time to get some wearing apparel taken from his cabin at the time his vessel had been captured. on reaching the deck of the armed vessel, he found capt. reid absent, and his request for his property was received with ridicule. hot words soon led to violence; and as capt. packwood stepped in to his boat to return to his ship, he was fired at several times, none of the shots taking effect. [illustration: siege of charleston, s.c., may, . copyright, , by johnson, wilson & co.] the news of this assault spread like wildfire in the little town. the people congregated on the streets, demanding reparation. the authorities sent a message to capt. reid, demanding that the man who fired the shots be given up. soon a boat came from the "liberty," bringing a man who was handed over to the authorities as the culprit. a brief examination into the case showed that the man was not the guilty party, and that his surrender was a mere subterfuge. the people then determined to be trifled with no longer, and made preparations to take vengeance upon the insolent oppressors. the work of preparation went on quietly; and by nightfall a large number of men had agreed to assemble at a given signal, and march upon the enemy. neither the authorities of the town nor the officers on the threatened vessel were given any intimation of the impending outbreak. yet the knots of men who stood talking earnestly on the street corners, or looked significantly at the trim navy vessel lying in the harbor, might have well given cause for suspicion. that night, just as the dusk was deepening into dark, a crowd of men marched down the street to a spot where a number of boats lay hidden in the shadow of a wharf. embarking in these silently, they bent to the oars at the whispered word of command; and the boats were soon gliding swiftly over the smooth, dark surface of the harbor, toward the sloop-of-war. as they drew near, the cry of the lookout rang out,-- "boat ahoy!" no answer. the boats, crowded with armed men, still advanced. "boat ahoy! answer, or i'll fire." and, receiving no response, the lookout gave the alarm, and the watch came tumbling up, just in time to be driven below or disarmed by the crowd of armed men that swarmed over the gunwale of the vessel. there was no bloodshed. the crew of the "liberty" was fairly surprised, and made no resistance. the victorious citizens cut the sloop's cables, and allowed her to float on shore near long wharf. then, feeling sure that their prey could not escape them, they cut away her masts, liberated their captives, and taking the sloop's boats, dragged them through the streets to the common, where they were burned on a triumphal bonfire, amid the cheers of the populace. but the exploit was not to end here. with the high tide the next day, the hulk of the sloop floated away, and drifted ashore again on goat island. when night fell, some adventurous spirits stealthily went over, and, applying the torch to the stranded ship, burned it to the water's edge. thus did the people of newport resist tyranny. it may well be imagined that so bold a defiance of the royal authority caused a great sensation. prolonged and vigorous were the attempts of the servants of the king to find out the rebellious parties who had thus destroyed his majesty's property. but their efforts were in vain. the identity of the captors of the "liberty" was carefully concealed, and even to this day none of their names has become known. but, before the people of newport had done talking about this affair, another outbreak occurred, which cast the capture and destruction of the "liberty" into the shade. this was the affair of the "gaspee,"--considered by many historians the virtual opening of the revolutionary struggle of the colonies against great britain. the "gaspee," like the "st. john" and the "liberty," was an armed vessel stationed in narragansett bay to enforce the revenue. she was commanded by lieut. dudingston of the british navy, and carried eight guns. by pursuing the usual tactics of the british officers stationed on the american coast, duddingston had made himself hated; and his vessel was marked for destruction. not a boat could pass between providence and newport without being subjected to search by the crew of the "gaspee;" and the yankee sailors swore darkly, that, when the time was ripe, they would put an end to the britisher's officious meddling. the propitious time arrived one bright june morning in the year , when the "gaspee" gave chase to a newport packet which was scudding for providence, under the command of capt. thomas lindsey. the armed vessel was a clean-cut little craft, and, carrying no heavier load than a few light guns of the calibre then in vogue, could overhaul with ease almost any merchantman on the coast. so on this eventful day she was rapidly overhauling the chase, when, by a blunder of the pilot, she was run hard and fast upon a spit of sand running out from namquit point, and thus saw her projected prize sail away in triumph. but the escape of her prize was not the greatest disaster that was to befall the "gaspee" that day. lindsey, finding himself safe from the clutches of the enemy, continued his course to providence, and on arriving at that city reported the condition of the "gaspee" to a prominent citizen, who straightway determined to organize an expedition for the destruction of the pest of marine traffic. he therefore gave orders to a trusty ship-master to collect eight of the largest long-boats in the harbor, and, having muffled their oars and rowlocks, place them at fenner's wharf, near a noted tavern. that night, soon after sunset, as the tradesmen were shutting up their shops, and the laboring men were standing on the streets talking after their day's work, a man passed down the middle of each street, beating a drum, and crying aloud,-- "the schooner 'gaspee' is ashore on namquit point. who will help destroy her?" all who expressed a desire to join in the enterprise were directed to repair to the sabin house; and thither, later in the evening, flocked many of the townspeople carrying guns, powder-flasks, and bullet-pouches. within the house all was life and bustle. the great hall was crowded with determined men, discussing the plan of attack. guns stood in every corner, while down in the kitchen a half a dozen men stood about a glowing fire busily casting bullets. at last, all being prepared, the party crossed the street to the dock, and embarked,--a veteran sea-captain taking the tiller of each boat. on the way down the harbor the boats stopped, and took aboard a number of paving-stones and stout clubs, as weapons for those who had no muskets. after this stoppage the boats continued on their way, until, when within sixty yards of the "gaspee," the long-drawn hail. "who comes there?" rang out over the water. no answer was made, and the lookout quickly repeated his hail. capt. whipple, one of the leaders of the attack, then responded,-- "i want to come on board." dudingston, who was below at the time, rushed on deck, exclaiming, "stand off. you can't come aboard." as dudingston stood at the side of the "gaspee" warning off the assailants, he presented a good mark; and joseph bucklin, who pulled an oar in the leading boat, turned to a comrade and said, "ephe, lend me your gun, and i can kill that fellow." the gun was accordingly handed him, and he fired. dudingston fell to the deck. just as the shot was fired, the leader of the assailants cried out,-- "i am sheriff of the county of kent. i am come for the commander of this vessel; and have him i will, dead or alive. men, spring to your oars." in an instant the boats were under the lee of the schooner, and the attacking party was clambering over the side. the first man to attempt to board seized a rope, and was clambering up, when one of the british cut the rope, and let him fall into the water. he quickly recovered himself, and was soon on deck, where he found his comrades driving the crew of the "gaspee" below, and meeting with but little resistance. a surgeon who was with the party of americans led the boarders below, and began the task of tying the hands of the captured crew with strong tarred cord. while thus engaged, he was called on deck. "what is wanted, mr. brown?" asked he, calling the name of the person inquiring for him. "don't call names, but go immediately into the cabin," was the response. "there is one wounded, and will bleed to death." the surgeon went into the captain's cabin, and there found dudingston, severely wounded, and bleeding freely. seeing no cloth suitable for bandages, the surgeon opened his vest, and began to tear his own shirt into strips to bind up the wound. with the tenderest care the hurt of the injured officer was attended to; and he was gently lowered into a boat, and rowed up the river to providence. the americans remained in possession of the captured schooner, and quickly began the work of demolition. in the captain's cabin were a number of bottles of liquor, and for these the men made a rush; but the american surgeon dashed the bottles to pieces with the heels of his heavy boots, so that no scenes of drunkenness were enacted. after breaking up the furniture and trappings of the craft, her people were bundled over the side into the boats of their captors, and the torch was set to the schooner. the boats layoff a little distance until the roaring flames satisfied them that the "gaspee" would never again annoy american merchantmen. as the schooner's shotted guns went off one after the other, the americans turned their boats' prows homeward, and soon dispersed quietly to their homes. it is almost incredible that the identity of the parties to this expedition was kept a secret until long after the revolution. although the british authorities made the most strenuous efforts, and offered huge rewards for the detection of the culprits, not one was discovered until after the colonies had thrown off the royal yoke, when they came boldly forward, and boasted of their exploit. after the destruction of the "gaspee," the colonists in no way openly opposed the authority of the king, until the time of those stirring events immediately preceding the american revolution. little was done on the water to betoken the hatred of the colonists for king george. the turbulent little towns of providence and newport subsided, and the scene of revolt was transferred to massachusetts, and particularly to boston. in the streets of boston occurred the famous massacre, and at the wharves of boston lay the three ships whose cargo aroused the ire of the famous boston tea-party. to almost every young american the story of the boston tea-party is as familiar as his own name,--how the british parliament levied a tax upon tea, how the colonies refused to pay it; and determined to use none of the article; how british merchants strove to force the tea upon the unwilling colonists, and how the latter refused to permit the vessels to unload, and in some cases drove them back to england. at philadelphia, annapolis, charleston, newport, and providence, disturbances took place over the arrival of the tea-ships; but at boston the turbulence was the greatest. the story of that dramatic scene in the great drama of american revolution has been told too often to bear repetition. the arrival of three ships laden with tea aroused instant indignation in the new england city. mass meetings were held, the captains of the vessels warned not to attempt to unload their cargoes, and the consignees were terrified into refusing to have any thing to do with the tea. in the midst of an indignation meeting held at the old south church, a shrill war-whoop resounded from one of the galleries. the startled audience, looking in that direction, saw a person disguised as a mohawk indian, who wildly waved his arms and shouted,-- "boston harbor, a tea-pot to-night! hurrah for griffin's wharf." in wild excitement the meeting adjourned, and the people crowded out into the streets. other indians were seen running down the streets in the direction of griffin's wharf, where the tea-ships were moored, and thither the people turned their steps. on reaching the wharf, a scene of wild confusion was witnessed. the three tea-ships lay side by side at the wharf. their decks were crowded with men, many of them wearing the indian disguise. the hatches were off the hatchways; and the chests of tea were being rapidly passed up, broken open, and thrown overboard. there was little noise, as the workers seemed to be well disciplined, and went about their work in the bright moonlight with systematic activity. in about three hours the work was done. three hundred and forty-two chests of tea had been thrown overboard, and the rioters dispersed quietly to their homes. the incident of the destruction of the tea in boston harbor was the last of the petty incidents that led up to the american revolution. following quick upon it came lexington, concord, and bunker hill,--then the great conflict was fairly under way, and the colonies were fighting for liberty. what part the sailors of the colonies took in that struggle, it is the purpose of this book to recount. chapter iv. the beginning of the navy. -- lexington and concord. -- a blow struck in maine. -- capture of the "margaretta." -- gen. washington and the navy. -- work of capt. manly. in treating of the history of the navy during the war of the revolution, we must always bear in mind the fact, that, during the greater part of that war, there was no navy. indeed, the subject presents much the same aspect as the celebrated chapter on snakes in ireland, which consisted of exactly six words, "there are no snakes in ireland." so many of the episodes and incidents of the revolutionary war that we chronicle as part of the naval history of that struggle are naval only in that they took place on the water. the participants in them were often longshoremen, fishermen, or privateersmen, and but seldom sailors enrolled in the regular navy of the united colonies. nevertheless, these irregular forces accomplished some results that would be creditable to a navy in the highest state of efficiency and discipline. the expense of building vessels-of-war, and the difficulty, amounting even to impossibility, of procuring cannon for their armament, deterred the colonies from equipping a naval force. all the energies of the revolutionists were directed towards organizing and equipping the army. the cause of independence upon the ocean was left to shift for itself. but, as the war spread, the depredations of british vessels along the coast became so intolerable that some colonies fitted out armed vessels for self-protection. private enterprise sent out many privateers to prey upon british commerce, so that the opening months of the year saw many vessels on the ocean to support the cause of the colonies. to man these vessels, there were plenty of sailors; for even at that early day new england had begun to develop that race of hardy seamen for which she is still noted in this day of decadence in the american marine. there was, however, a sad lack of trained officers to command the vessels of the infant navy. many americans were enrolled on the lists of the ships flying the royal banner of england, but most of these remained in the british service. the men, therefore, who were to command the ships of the colonies, were trained in the rough school of the merchant service, and had smelt gunpowder only when resisting piratical attacks, or in serving themselves as privateers. for these reasons the encounters and exploits that we shall consider as being part of the naval operations of the revolutionary war were of a kind that would to-day be regarded as insignificant skirmishes; and the naval officer of to-day would look with supreme contempt upon most of his brethren of ' , as so many untrained sea-guerillas. nevertheless, the achievements of some of the seamen of the revolution are not insignificant, even when compared with exploits of the era of farragut; and it must be remembered that the efforts of the devoted men were directed against a nation that had in commission at the opening of the war three hundred and fifty-three vessels, and even then bore proudly the title conferred upon her by the consent of all nations,--"the mistress of the seas." it was on the th of april, , that the redoubtable major pitcairn and his corps of scarlet-coated british regulars shot down the colonists on the green at lexington, and then fled back to boston followed by the enraged minute-men, who harassed the retreating redcoats with a constant fire of musketry. the news of the battle spread far and wide; and wherever the story was told, the colonists began arming themselves, and preparing for resistance to the continually increasing despotism of the british authorities. on the th of may, a coasting schooner from boston put into the little seaport of machias on the coast of maine. the people of the little town gathered at the wharf, and from the sailors first heard the story of lexington and concord. the yoke of the british government had rested lightly on the shoulders of the people of machias. far from the chief cities of the new world, they had heard little of the continued dissensions between the colonies and the home government, and they heard the story of the rebellion with amazement. but however unprepared they might have been for the news of the outbreak, their sympathies went warmly out to their struggling brethren, and they determined to place themselves shoulder to shoulder with the massachusetts colonists in the fight against the oppression of the british. their opportunity for action came that very night. as the sturdy young colonists stood on the deck listening to the stories of the newly arrived sailors, they could see floating lightly at anchor near the wharf a trimly rigged schooner flying the ensign of the british navy. this craft was the "margaretta," an armed schooner acting as convoy to two sloops that were then loading with ship-timber to be used in the service of the king. the boston sailors had not yet finished their narrative of the two battles, when the thought occurred to some of the adventurous listeners that they might strike a retaliatory blow by capturing the "margaretta." therefore, bidding the sailors to say nothing to the british of lexington and concord, they left the wharf and dispersed through the town, seeking for recruits. that same evening, sixty stalwart men assembled in a secluded farm-house, and laid their plans for the destruction of the schooner. it was then saturday night, and the conspirators determined to attack the vessel the next morning while the officers were at church. all were to proceed by twos and threes to the wharf, in order that no suspicion might be aroused. once at the water-side, they would rush to their boats, and carry the schooner by boarding. sunday morning dawned clear, and all seemed propitious for the conspirators. the "margaretta" had then been in port for more than a week, and her officers had no reason to doubt the loyalty and friendship of the inhabitants: no whisper of the occurrences in massachusetts, nor any hint of the purposes of the people of machias, had reached their ears. therefore, on this peaceful may morning, capt. moore donned his full-dress uniform, and with his brother officers proceeded to the little church in the village. every thing then seemed favorable to the success of the adventure. the "margaretta," manned by a sleepy crew, and deserted by her officers, lay within easy distance of the shore. it seemed as though the conspirators had only to divide into two parties; and while the one surrounded the church, and captured the worshipping officers, the others might descend upon the schooner, and easily make themselves masters of all. but the plot failed. history fails to record just how or why the suspicions of capt. moore were aroused. whether it was that the wary captain noticed the absence of most of the young men of the congregation, or whether he saw the conspirators assembling on the dock, is not known. but certain it is that the good dominie in the pulpit, and the pious people in the pews, were mightily startled by the sudden uprisal of capt. moore, who sprang from his seat, and, calling upon his officers to follow him, leaped through the great window of the church, and ran like mad for the shore, followed by the rest of the naval party. there was no more church for the good people of machias that morning. even the preacher came down from his pulpit to stare through his horn-rimmed glasses at the retreating forms of his whilom listeners. and, as he stood in blank amazement at the church door, he saw a large party of the missing young men of his congregation come dashing down the street in hot pursuit of the retreating mariners. in their hands, the pursuers carried sabres, cutlasses, old flint-lock muskets, cumbrous horse-pistols, scythes, and reaping-hooks. the pursued wore no arms; and, as no boat awaited them at the shore, their case looked hopeless indeed. but the old salt left in charge of the schooner was equal to the occasion. the unsabbath-like tumult on the shore quickly attracted his attention, and with unfeigned astonishment he had observed his commander's unseemly egress from the church. but, when the armed band of colonists appeared upon the scene, he ceased to rub his eyes in wonder, and quickly loaded up a swivel gun, with which he let fly, over the heads of his officers, and in dangerous proximity to the advancing colonists. this fire checked the advance of the conspirators; and, while they wavered and hung back, a boat put off from the schooner, and soon took the officers aboard. then, after firing a few solid shot over the town, merely as an admonition of what might be expected if the hot-headed young men persisted in their violent outbreaks, the "margaretta" dropped down the bay to a more secluded anchorage. the defeated conspirators were vastly chagrined at the miscarriage of their plot; but, nothing daunted, they resolved to attempt to carry the schooner by assault, since strategy had failed. therefore, early the next morning, four young men seized upon a sloop, and, bringing her up to the wharf, cheered lustily. a crowd soon gathered, and the project was explained, and volunteers called for. thirty-five hardy sailors and woodmen hastily armed themselves with muskets, pitchforks, and axes; and, after taking aboard a small supply of provisions, the sloop dropped down the harbor toward the "margaretta." the captain of the threatened schooner had observed through his spy-glass the proceedings at the wharf, and suspected his danger. he was utterly ignorant of the reason for this sudden hostility on the part of the people of machias. he knew nothing of the quarrel that had thus provoked the rebellion of the colonies. therefore, he sought to avoid a conflict; and, upon the approach of the sloop, he hoisted his anchor, and fled down the bay. the sloop followed in hot haste. the yankees crowded forward, and shouted taunts and jeers at their more powerful enemy who thus strove to avoid the conflict. both vessels were under full sail; and the size of the schooner was beginning to tell, when, in jibing, she carried away her main boom. nevertheless, she was so far ahead of the sloop that she was able to put into holmes bay, and take a spar out of a vessel lying there, before the sloop overtook her. but the delay incident upon changing the spars brought the sloop within range; and capt. moore, still anxious to avoid an encounter, cut away his boats, and stood out to sea. with plenty of sea room, and with a spanking breeze on the quarter, the sloop proved to be the better sailer. moore then prepared for battle, and, as the sloop overhauled him, let fly one of his swivels, following it immediately with his whole broadside, killing one man. the sloop returned the fire with her one piece of ordnance, which was so well aimed as to kill the man at the helm of the "margaretta," and clear her quarter-deck. the two vessels then closed, and a hand-to-hand battle began, in which muskets, hand-grenades, pikes, pitchforks, and cutlasses were used with deadly effect. the colonists strove to board their enemy, but were repeatedly beaten back. if any had thought that capt. moore's continued efforts to avoid a conflict were signs of cowardice, they were quickly undeceived; for that officer fought like a tiger, standing on the quarter-deck rail, cheering on his men, and hurling hand-grenades down upon his assailants, until a shot brought him down. the fall of their captain disheartened the british; and the americans quickly swarmed over the sides of the "margaretta," and drove her crew below. this victory was no mean achievement for the colonists. the "margaretta" was vastly the superior, both in metal and in the strength of her crew. she was ably officered by trained and courageous seamen; while the yankees had no leaders save one jeremiah o'brien, whom they had elected, by acclamation, captain. that the americans had so quickly brought their more powerful foe to terms, spoke volumes for their pluck and determination. nor were they content to rest with the capture of the schooner. transferring her armament to the sloop, o'brien set out in search of prizes, and soon fell in with, and captured, two small british cruisers. these he took to watertown, where the massachusetts legislature was then in session. the news of his victory was received with vast enthusiasm; and the legislature conferred upon him the rank of captain, and ordered him to set out on another cruise, and particularly watch out for british vessels bringing over provisions or munitions of war to the king's troops in america. but by this time great britain was aroused. the king saw all america up in arms against his authority, and he determined to punish the rebellious colonists. a naval expedition was therefore sent against falmouth, and that unfortunate town was given to the flames. the legislature of massachusetts then passed a law granting commissions to privateers, and directing the seizure of british ships. thereafter the hostilities on the ocean, which had been previously unauthorized and somewhat piratical, had the stamp of legislative authority. petty hostilities along the coast were very active during the first few months of the war. the exploits of capt. o'brien stirred up seamen from maine to the carolinas, and luckless indeed was the british vessel that fell into their clutches. at providence two armed american vessels re-took a yankee brig and sloop that had been captured by the british. at dartmouth a party of soldiers captured a british armed brig. in addition to these exploits, the success of the american privateers, which had got to sea in great numbers, added greatly to the credit of the american cause. the first order looking toward the establishment of a national navy was given by gen. washington in the latter part of . the sagacious general, knowing that the british forces in boston were supplied with provisions and munitions of war by sea, conceived the idea of fitting out some swift-sailing cruisers to intercept the enemy's cruisers, and cut off their supplies. accordingly, on his own authority, he sent out capt. broughton with two armed schooners belonging to the colony of massachusetts. broughton was ordered to intercept two brigs bound for quebec with military stores. this he failed to do, but brought in ten other vessels. congress, however, directed the release of the captured ships, as it was then intended only to take such vessels as were actually employed in the king's service. by this time congress had become convinced that some naval force was absolutely essential to the success of the american cause. in october, , it therefore fitted out, and ordered to sea, a number of small vessels. of these the first to sail was the "lee," under command of capt. john manly, whose honorable name, won in the opening years of the revolution, fairly entitles him to the station of the father of the american navy. with his swift cruiser, manly patrolled the new england coast, and was marvellously successful in capturing british storeships. washington wrote to congress, "i am in very great want of powder, lead, mortars, and, indeed, most sorts of military stores." hardly had the letter been forwarded, when manly appeared in port with a prize heavy laden with just the goods for which the commander-in-chief had applied. a queer coincidence is on record regarding these captured stores. samuel tucker, an able yankee seaman, later an officer in the american navy, was on the docks at liverpool as a transport was loading for america. as he saw the great cases of guns and barrels of powder marked "boston" being lowered into the hold of the vessel, he said to a friend who stood with him, "i would walk barefoot one hundred miles, if by that means these arms could only take the direction of cambridge." three months later tucker was in washington's camp at cambridge, and there saw the very arms he had so coveted on the liverpool docks. they had been captured by capt. manly. manly's activity proved very harassing to the british, and the sloop-of-war "falcon" was sent out to capture the yankee. she fell in with the "lee" near gloucester, just as the latter was making for that port with a merchant schooner in convoy. manly, seeing that the englishman was too heavy for him, deserted his convoy and ran into the port, where he anchored, out of reach of the sloop's guns. capt. lindzee of the "falcon" stopped to capture the abandoned schooner, and then taking his vessel to the mouth of the port, anchored her in such a way as to prevent any escape for the "lee." he then prepared to capture the yankee by boarding. the "falcon" drew too much water to run alongside the "lee" at the anchorage manly had chosen; and the englishman therefore put his men in large barges, and with a force of about forty men set out to capture the schooner. manly saw the force that was to be brought against him, and sent his men to quarters, preparing for a desperate resistance. the schooner was lying near the shore; and the townspeople and militia gathered by the water-side, with guns in their hands, prepared to lend their aid to the brave defenders of the "lee." as the three barges drew near the schooner, manly mounted the rail, and hailed them, warning them to keep off lest he fire upon them. "fire, and be hanged to you," was the response of the lieutenant in command of the assailants. "we have no fear of traitors." so saying, the british pressed on through a fierce storm of musketry from the deck of the schooner and from the shore. they showed no lack of courage. the lieutenant himself brought his boat under the cabin windows, and was in the act of boarding, when a shot from the shore struck him in the thigh, and he was carried back to the man-of-war. capt. lindzee, who had watched the progress of the fight from the deck of the "falcon," was greatly enraged when his lieutenant was thus disabled; and he hastily despatched re-enforcements to the scene of action, and directed the gunners on the "falcon" to commence a cannonade of the town. "now," said he with an oath, "my boys, we will aim at the presbyterian church. well, my brave fellows, one shot more, and the house of god will fall before you." but the british were fairly outfought, and the outcome of the battle was disastrous to them. a newspaper of the period, speaking of the fight says, "under god, our little party at the water-side performed wonders; for they soon made themselves masters of both the schooners, the cutter, the two barges, the boat, and every man in them, and all that pertained to them. in the action, which lasted several hours, we have lost but one man; two others wounded,--one of whom is since dead, the other very slightly wounded. we took of the man-of-war's men thirty-five; several are wounded, and one since dead; twenty-four are sent to headquarters. the remainder, being impressed from this and neighboring towns, are permitted to return to their friends. this morning capt. lindzee warped off with but one-half of his men, with neither a prize-boat nor tender, except a small skiff the wounded lieutenant returned in." the work done by the small armed schooners of which the "lee" was a type encouraged congress to proceed with the work of organizing a regular navy; and by the end of that body had authorized the building of thirteen war-vessels carrying from twenty-four to thirty-two guns each. but as some naval force was obviously necessary during the construction of this fleet, five vessels were procured, and the new navy was organized with the following roster of officers:-- esek hopkins _commander-in-chief._ dudley saltonstall _captain of the "alfred."_ abraham whipple _captain of the "columbus."_ nicholas biddle _captain of the "andrea doria."_ john b. hopkins _captain of the "cabot."_ a long list of lieutenants was also provided, among whom stands out boldly the name of john paul jones. john manly, whose dashing work in the schooner "lee" we have already noticed, was left in command of his little craft until the thirty-two-gun ship "hancock" was completed, when he was put in charge of her. it may possibly have occurred to some of my readers to wonder what flag floated from the mastheads of these ships. there is much confusion upon this point, and not a little uncertainty. there were three classes of american armed vessels on the seas. first were the privateers, that sailed under any flag that might suit their purpose. next came the vessels fitted out and commissioned by the individual colonies; these usually floated the flag of the colony from which they hailed. last came the vessels commissioned by congress, which at the outset floated many banners of diverse kinds. it fell to the lot of lieut. paul jones, however, to hoist the first authorized american flag over a regularly commissioned vessel-of-war. this flag was of bunting, showing a pine-tree on a plain white ground, with the words "liberty tree" and "appeal to god" prominently displayed. this flag was chiefly used until the adoption of the stars and stripes. the "rattlesnake flag," with a reptile in the act of striking, and the legend "don't tread on me," was largely used by the privateers. the year closed with but little activity upon the ocean. the ships of the regular navy were late in getting into commission, and an early winter impeded their usefulness. some little work was done by privateers and the ships of the different colonies, and the ships of the british navy were kept fully occupied in guarding against the operations of these gentry. the man-of-war "nautilus" chased an american privateer into a little cove near beverly, and in the heat of the chase both vessels ran aground. the people on shore put off to the privateer, and quickly stripped her of her cordage and armament, and with the guns built a small battery by the water-side, from which they opened a telling fire upon the stranded "nautilus." the man-of-war returned in kind, and did some slight damage to the town; but when the tide had risen she slipped her cables and departed. such desultory encounters were of frequent occurrence, but no naval battles of any importance took place until the spring of . [illustration: commodore esek hopkins.] chapter v. events of . -- the first cruise of the regular navy. -- the "lexington" and the "edward." -- mugford's brave fight. -- loss of the "yankee hero." -- capt. manly, and the "defence." -- american vessels in european waters. -- good work of the "lexington" and the "reprisal." -- the british defeated at charleston. the year witnessed some good service done for the cause of liberty by the little colonial navy. the squadron, under the command of ezekiel hopkins, left the delaware in february, as soon as the ice had left the river, and made a descent upon the island of new providence, where the british had established a naval station. the force under hopkins consisted of seven vessels-of-war, and one despatch-boat. the attack was successful in every way, a landing party of three hundred marines and sailors which was sent ashore meeting with but little resistance from the british garrison. by this exploit, the americans captured over a hundred cannon, and a great quantity of naval stores. after this exploit, hopkins left new providence, carrying away with him the governor and one or two notable citizens, and continued his cruise. his course was shaped to the northward, and early in april he found himself off the shore of long island. he had picked up a couple of insignificant british vessels,--one a tender of six guns, and the other an eight-gun bomb-brig. but his cruise had been mainly barren of results; and his crew, who had looked forward to sharp service and plenty of prize-money, were beginning to grumble. but their inactivity was not of long duration; for before daylight on the morning of april , the lookout at the masthead of the "alfred" sighted a large ship, bearing down upon the american squadron. the night was clear and beautiful, the wind light, and the sea smooth; and so, although it lacked several hours to daylight, the commanders determined to give battle to the stranger. soon, therefore, the roll of the drums beating to quarters was heard over the water, and the angry glare of the battle lanterns on the gun-decks made the open ports of the war-ships stand out like fiery eyes against the black hulls. the englishman, who proved later to be the "glasgow," twenty guns, carrying one hundred and fifty men, might easily have escaped; but, apparently undaunted by the odds against him, he awaited the attack. the little "cabot" was the first american ship to open fire on the enemy. her attack, though sharp and plucky, was injudicious; for two of the englishman's heavy broadsides were enough to send her out of the battle for repairs. the "glasgow" and the "alfred" then took up the fight, and exchanged repeated broadsides; the american vessel suffering the more serious injuries of the two. after some hours of this fighting, the "glasgow" hauled away, and made good her escape, although she was almost surrounded by the vessels of the american squadron. it would seem that only the most careless seamanship on the part of the americans could have enabled a twenty-gun vessel to escape from four vessels, each one of which was singly almost a match for her. it is evident that the continental congress took the same view of the matter, for hopkins was soon after dismissed from the service. this action was little to the credit of the sailors of the colonial navy. fortunately, a second action during the same month set them in a better light before the people of the country. this was the encounter of the "lexington," capt. barry, with the british vessel "edward," off the capes of virginia. the two vessels were laid yard-arm to yard-arm; and a hot battle ensued, in which the americans came off the victors. the career of this little american brig was a rather remarkable one. the year following her capture of the "edward," she was again off the capes of the delaware, and again fell in with a british ship. this time, however, the englishman was a frigate, and the luckless "lexington" was forced to surrender. her captor left the americans aboard their own craft, and, putting a prize crew aboard, ordered them to follow in the wake of the frigate. that night the americans plotted the recapture of their vessel. by a concerted movement, they overpowered their captors; and the "lexington" was taken into baltimore, where she was soon recommissioned, and ordered to cruise in european waters. shortly after the battle between the "lexington" and the "edward," there was fought in massachusetts bay an action in which the americans showed the most determined bravery, and which for the courage shown, and losses suffered on either side, may well be regarded as the most important of the naval battles of that year. early in may, a merchant seaman named mugford had succeeded, after great importunity, in securing the command of the armed vessel "franklin," a small cruiser mounting only four guns. the naval authorities had been unwilling to give him the command, though he showed great zeal in pressing his suit. indeed, after the appointment had been made, certain damaging rumors concerning the newly appointed captain reached the ears of the marine committee, and caused them to send an express messenger to boston to cancel mugford's commission. but the order arrived too late. mugford had already fitted out his ship, and sailed. he had been but a few days at sea, when the british ship "hope," of four hundred tons and mounting six guns, hove in sight. more than this, the lookout reported that the fleet of the british commodore banks lay but a few miles away, and in plain sight. many a man would have been daunted by such odds. not so capt. mugford. mustering his men, he showed them the british ship, told them that she carried heavier metal than the "franklin," told them that the british fleet lay near at hand, and would doubtless try to take a hand in the engagement; then, having pointed out all the odds against them, he said, "now, my lads, it's a desperate case; but we can take her, and win lots of glory and prize-money. will you stand by me?" the jackies wasted no time in debate, but, cheering lustily for the captain, went to their posts, and made ready for a hot fight. the naval discipline of the present day was little known, and less observed, at that time in the american navy. the perfect order which makes the gun-deck of a ship going into action as quiet and solemn as during sunday prayers then gave place to excited talk and bustle. the men stood in crews at the four guns; but most of the jackies were mustered on the forecastle, ready to board. all expected a desperate resistance. great was their surprise, then, when they were permitted to take a raking position under the stern of the "hope," and to board her without a shot being fired. but as mugford, at the head of the boarders, clambered over the taffrail, he heard the captain of the "hope" order the men to cut the topsail halliards and ties, with the intention of so crippling the ship that the british squadron might overhaul and recapture her. "avast there!" bawled mugford, seeing through the plot in an instant, and clapping a pistol to the head of the captain; "if a knife is touched to those ropes, not a man of this crew shall live." this threat so terrified the captured sailors, that they relinquished their design; and mugford, crowding all sail on his prize, soon was bowling along before a stiff breeze, with the british squadron in hot pursuit. an examination of the ship's papers showed her to be the most valuable prize yet taken by the americans. in her hold were fifteen hundred barrels of powder, a thousand carbines, a great number of travelling carriages for cannon, and a most complete assortment of artillery instruments and pioneer tools. while running for boston harbor, through the channel known as point shirley gut, the vessel grounded, but was soon floated, and taken safely to her anchorage. her arrival was most timely, as the american army was in the most dire straits for gunpowder. it may well be imagined that there was no longer any talk about revoking capt. mugford's commission. mugford remained in port only long enough to take a supply of powder from his prize; then put to sea again. he well knew that the british fleet that had chased him into boston harbor was still blockading the harbor's mouth, but he hoped to evade it by going out through a circuitous channel. unluckily, in thus attempting to avoid the enemy, the "franklin" ran aground, and there remained hard and fast in full view of the enemy. he had as consort the privateer schooner "lady washington," whose captain, seeing mugford's dangerous predicament, volunteered to remain near at hand and assist in the defence. mugford knew that his case was desperate, and made preparations for a most determined resistance. swinging his craft around, he mounted all four of his guns on that side which commanded the channel in the direction from which the enemy was expected. boarding-nettings were triced up, and strengthened with cables and cordage, to make an effective barrier against the assaults of boarders. the men were served with double rations of grog, and set to work sharpening the cutlasses and spears, with which they were well provided. the work of preparation was completed none too soon; for about nine o'clock mugford heard the rattle of oars in rowlocks, and saw boats gliding towards the "franklin" through the darkness. "boat ahoy!" he challenged. "keep off, or i shall fire into you." "don't fire," was the response; "we are friends from boston coming to your aid." "we want none of your aid," cried mugford with an oath. then, turning to his crew, he shouted, "let them have it, boys." the roar of the cannon then mingled with the rattle of the musketry, the cries of the wounded, and the shouts and curses of the combatants, as the british strove to clamber up the sides of the "franklin." not less than two hundred men were engaged on the side of the british, who advanced to the fray in thirteen large barges, many of them carrying swivel guns. several boats dashed in close under the side of the "franklin," and their crews strove manfully to board, but were beaten back by the yankees, who rained cutlass blows upon them. the long pikes with which the americans were armed proved particularly effective. "one man with that weapon is positive of having killed nine of the enemy," says a newspaper of that day. unhappily, however, the heroic mugford, while urging on his men to a more vigorous resistance, was struck by a musket-ball, which inflicted a mortal wound. at the moment the wound was received, he was reaching out over the quarter to catch hold of the mast of one of the barges, in the hope of upsetting her. as he fell to the deck, he called his first lieutenant, and said, "i am a dead man. do not give up the vessel; you will be able to beat them off." nearly forty years after, the heroic lawrence, dying on the deck of the "chesapeake," repeated mugford's words, "don't give up the ship." for about half an hour the battle raged fiercely. the british, beaten back with great loss, returned again and again to the attack. the boats would come under the lee of the "franklin;" but, not being provided with grappling-irons, the british were forced to lay hold of the gunwales of the enemy with their hands, which the americans promptly lopped off with their cutlasses. shots from the swivel guns of the yankee soon stove in two of the boats of the enemy, which sunk, carrying down many of their crew. after nearly an hour of this desperate fighting, the british withdrew, having lost about seventy men. the only loss sustained by the americans was that of their brave commander mugford. about a month after this battle, there occurred off the coast of massachusetts a battle in which the americans, though they fought with the most undaunted bravery, were forced to strike their colors to their adversary. the american was the privateer "yankee hero" of newburyport. she sailed from that place for boston on the th of june with only forty men aboard, intending to ship her full complement of one hundred and twenty at boston. as the "hero" rounded cape ann, she sighted a sail on the horizon, but in her short-handed condition did not think it worth while to give chase. the stranger, however, had caught sight of the "hero;" and, a fresh southerly breeze springing up, she began to close with the american. as she came closer, capt. tracy of the "yankee hero" saw that she was a ship-of-war. despite the desperate efforts of the americans to escape, their pursuer rapidly overhauled them, and soon coming up within half a mile, opened fire with her bow chasers. the brig returned the fire with a swivel gun, which had little effect. seeing this, capt. tracy ordered the firing to cease until the ships should came to close quarters. the stranger rapidly overhauled the privateer, keeping up all the time a vigorous fire. tracy with difficulty restrained the ardor of his men, who were anxious to try to cripple their pursuer. when the enemy came within pistol-shot, tracy saw that the time for action on his part had come, and immediately opened fire with all the guns and small-arms that could be brought to bear. the only possible chance for escape lay in crippling the big craft with a lucky shot; but broadside after broadside was fired, and still the great ship came rushing along in the wake of the flying privateer. closer and closer drew the bulky man-of-war, until her bow crept past the stern of the "yankee hero," and the marines upon her forecastle poured down a destructive volley of musketry upon the brig's crowded deck. the plight of the privateer was now a desperate one. her heavy antagonist was close alongside, and towered high above her, so that the marines on the quarter-deck and forecastle of the englishman were on a level with the leading blocks of the yankee. from the depressed guns of the frigate, a murderous fire poured down upon the smaller craft. for an hour and twenty minutes the two vessels continued the fight, pouring hot broadsides into each other, and separated by less than a hundred feet of water. the brisk breeze blowing carried away the clouds of smoke, and left the men on the deck of the yankee no protection from sharp-shooters on the enemy's deck. accordingly, the execution was frightful. tracy, from his post on the quarter-deck, saw his men falling like sheep, while the continual volleys of the great ship had so cut the cordage of the weaker vessel that escape was impossible. at last a musket-ball struck capt. tracy in the thigh, and he fell bleeding to the deck. for a moment his men wavered at their guns; but he called manfully to them, from where he lay, to fight on boldly for the honor of the "yankee hero." two petty officers had rushed to his assistance; and he directed them to lay him upon a chest of arms upon the quarter-deck, whence he might direct the course of the battle. but, strong though was his spirit, his body was too weak to perform the task he had allotted it; and, growing faint from pain and loss of blood, he was carried below. he lay unconscious for a few minutes, but was recalled to his senses by the piteous cries of wounded men by whom he was surrounded. when he came to himself, he saw the cabin filled with grievously wounded people, bleeding and suffering for lack of surgical aid. the firing of the privateer had ceased, but the enemy was still pouring in pitiless broadsides. enraged at this spectacle, capt. tracy ordered his men to re-open the conflict, and directed that he be taken in a chair to the quarter-deck. but, on getting into the chair, he was suddenly seized with a fainting spell, and gave orders, by signs, that the colors be struck. when the inequality of the two enemies is considered, this action appears to be a most notable reason for pride in the powers of the americans. the "yankee hero" was a low single-decked vessel of fourteen guns, while her captor was the british frigate of thirty-two guns. yet the little american vessel had held her own for two hours, and by good gunnery and skilful manoeuvring had succeeded in doing almost as much damage as she had suffered. in reading of the naval engagements of the revolution, one is impressed with the small sacrifice of life that attended the most protracted conflicts. thus in the action just recorded only four men were killed upon the defeated ship, although for more than an hour the two vessels had exchanged broadsides a distance of less than a hundred feet apart. the execution done on the british frigate has never been recorded, but was probably even less. only the most fragmentary account can be given of any naval actions in the year , except those in which america's great naval hero paul jones took part. of the trivial encounters that go to complete the naval annals of the year, only the briefest recountal is necessary. the work of the little brig "andrea doria," capt. biddle, deserves a passing mention. this little fourteen-gun craft had the most wonderful luck in making prizes. besides capturing two transports loaded with british soldiers, she took so many merchantmen, that on one cruise she brought back to port only five of her original crew, the rest having all been put aboard prizes. on the th of june, the crew of the connecticut cruiser "defence," a fourteen-gun brig, heard the sound of distant cannonading coming faintly over the water. all sail was crowded upon the brig, and she made all possible speed to the scene of conflict. about nightfall, she fell in with four american schooners that had just been having a tussle with two heavy british transports. three of the american vessels were privateers, the fourth was the little cruiser "lee" in which capt. john manly had done such brilliant service. the four schooners had found the transports too powerful for them, and had therefore drawn off, but were eager to renew the fray with the help of the "defence." accordingly the "defence" led the way to nantasket roads, where the transports lay at anchor. capt. harding wasted little time in manoeuvring, but, laying his vessel alongside the larger of the two transports, summoned her commander to strike. "ay, ay--i'll strike," was the response from the threatened vessel; and instantly a heavy broadside was poured into the "defence." a sharp action followed, lasting for nearly an hour. the "defence" bore the brunt of the conflict, for the four schooners did not come to sufficiently close quarters to be of much assistance against the enemy. the gunnery of the americans proved too much for the enemy, however; and after losing eighteen men, together with a large number wounded, the british surrendered. the american vessel was a good deal cut up aloft, and lost nine of her men. the next morning a third transport was sighted by the "defence," and speedily overhauled and captured. more than five hundred british soldiers were thus captured; and the british thenceforward dared not treat the americans as rebels, lest the colonial army authorities should retaliate upon the british prisoners in their hands. it was in the year that the first naval vessel giving allegiance to the american colonies showed herself in european waters. this vessel was the "reprisal," capt. wickes, a small craft, mounting sixteen guns. early in the summer of ' , the "reprisal" made a cruise to martinique, taking several prizes. when near the island, she encountered the british sloop-of-war "shark," and a sharp battle ensued. in size and weight of metal, the two vessels were about evenly matched; but the "reprisal" had been sending out so many prize-crews, that she was short eighty men of her full crew. therefore, when, after a brisk interchange of broadsides, the british sloop sheered off, and left the "reprisal" to continue her course, capt. wickes rejoiced in his escape as being almost equal to a victory. after completing this cruise, the "reprisal" was ordered to france for the purpose of conveying thither from philadelphia benjamin franklin, the ambassador sent from the colonies to interest the french in the cause of american liberty. while on the way over, she took two or three prizes, which were sold in france. after landing her distinguished passenger, she cruised about in the proverbially tempestuous bay of biscay, where she forced several british vessels to strike to the american flag, then first seen in those waters. on returning to france to sell his newly captured prizes, capt. wickes found trouble in store for him. the british ambassador at paris had declared that the american cruiser was a detestable pirate; and that for france to permit the pirate to anchor in her harbors, or sell his prizes in her markets, was equal to a declaration of war against england. wickes was, therefore, admonished to take his ships and prisoners away. but even in that early day yankee wit was sharp, and able to extricate its possessor from troublesome scrapes. wickes knew that there were plenty of purchasers to be had for his prizes: so, gathering a few ship-owners together, he took them out to sea beyond the jurisdiction of france, and there sold them to the highest bidder. the money thus obtained wickes used in purchasing vessels suitable for armed cruisers. while these were fitting out, the "lexington" and the "dolphin" arrived in france, and soon joined the "reprisal" in a cruise around the british islands. the little squadron fairly swept the channel and the irish sea of merchantmen. the excitement in england ran high, and the admiralty despatched all the available men-of-war in search of the marauders. but the swift-sailing cruisers escaped all pursuers. once indeed the "reprisal" came near falling into the hands of the enemy, but escaped by throwing overboard every thing movable, sawing away her bulwarks, and even cutting away her heavy timbers. the result of this cruise so aroused england, that france no longer dared to harbor the audacious yankee cruisers. the "lexington" and "reprisal" were, therefore, ordered to leave european waters forthwith. the "lexington" complied first, and when one day out from the port of morlaix encountered the british man-of-war cutter "alert." the "alert" was the smaller of the two vessels, but her commander had in him all that pluck and those sterling seamanlike qualities that made the name of england great upon the ocean. a stiff breeze was blowing, and a heavy cross sea running, when the two vessels came together. the gunners sighted their pieces at random and fired, knowing little whether the shot would go plunging into the waves, or fly high into the air. as a result, they carried on a spirited cannonade for upwards of two hours, with the sole effect of carrying away the top hamper of the "alert," and exhausting most of the powder on the american craft. finding his ammunition rapidly giving out, the captain of the "lexington" clapped on all sail, and soon showed his crippled antagonist a clean pair of heels. but so great was the activity of the crew of the "alert" that they repaired the damage done aloft, and in four hours overtook the "american," and opened fire upon her the battle now became one-sided; for the "lexington," being short of powder, could make little resistance to the brisk attack of her persevering adversary. in less than an hour she was forced to strike her flag. the fate of the "reprisal" was even harder than that of her consort. while crossing the atlantic on her way back to the coast of america, she was overtaken by a furious gale. with furled sails and battened hatches, the little craft made a desperate fight for life. but the fierce wind carried away her masts and spars, and the tossing waves opened her seams, so that it became apparent to all on board that the fate of the gallant craft, that had so nobly defended the cause of american liberty, was sealed. as the water rose higher and higher in the hold, the officers saw that it was no longer a question of the possibility of saving the ship, but that their lives and those of the crew were in the greatest danger. boats were lowered; but the angry white-capped waves tossed them madly aloft, and, turning them over and over, sent the poor fellows that manned them to their long account. all hands then set to work at the construction of a huge raft; and just as the ship's stern settled, it was pushed off, and all that could reach it clambered on. a few poor fellows clung to the sinking ship; and their comrades on the raft saw them crowd on the forecastle, and heard their despairing cries as the good ship threw her prow high in the air, and sunk stern foremost to the placid depths of the stormy ocean. but those on the raft were not destined to escape the fate of their comrades. the haggard sufferers were doomed to see the frail structure on which their lives depended go slowly to pieces before the mighty power of the remorseless sea. bit by bit their foothold vanished from beneath them. one by one they were swept off into the seething cauldron of the storm. at last but one man remained, the cook of the ill-fated vessel, who floated about for three days on a piece of wreckage, until, half-starved and nearly crazed, he was picked up by a passing vessel, and told the tale of the wreck. so ended the career of the patriotic and gallant capt. wickes and his crew, and such is the fate that every stout fellow braves when he dons his blue jacket and goes to serve his country on the ocean. in addition to the exploits of the american cruisers upon the high seas, certain operations of the british navy along the american coast, during the year , demand attention. of these the most important was the attack by sir peter parker upon charleston, in september of that year,--an attack made memorable by the determined courage of the americans, the daring exploit of sergt. jasper, and the discovery of the remarkable qualities of palmetto logs as a material for fortifications. charleston was then a town of but a few thousand inhabitants; but, small as it was, it had become particularly obnoxious to the british on account of the strong revolutionary sentiment of its people, and their many open acts of defiance of king george's authority. when the offensive stamp act first was published, the people of charleston rose in revolt; and the stamps for the city being stored in an armed fortress in the bay, known as castle johnson, a party of a hundred and fifty armed men went down the bay, surprised the garrison, captured the castle, and, loading its guns, defied the authorities. not until the promise had been made that the stamps should be sent back to england, did the rebellious carolinians lay down their arms. nor was their peace of long duration. when the news of the battle of lexington reached the little southern seaport, the people straightway cast about for an opportunity to strike a blow against the tyranny of england. the opportunity soon offered itself. an english sloop laden with powder was lying at st. augustine, fla. learning this, the people of charleston fitted out a vessel, which captured the powder-ship, and, eluding a number of british cruisers, returned safely to charleston with fifteen thousand pounds of gunpowder for the colonial army. soon after the colonial troops took possession of the forts in the harbor, and charleston became a revolutionary stronghold. therefore, when the war authorities of great britain prepared to take active, offensive measures against the seaport cities of the rebellious colonies, charleston was one of the first points chosen for attack. it was on the th of june, , that the british fleet, under the command of the veteran admiral, sir peter parker, appeared off charleston bar. the colonists had learned of its approach some time before; and the town was crowded with troops, both regular and volunteer. two forts, johnson and sullivan, were erected at points commanding the entrance to the harbor. troops were thrown out to oppose the advance of landing parties. the wharves were covered with breastworks, and the streets leading up from the water-side were barricaded. there was a great scarceness of lead for bullets; and to supply that need the leaden sashes, in which window-panes were at that time set, were melted down. when the fleet of the enemy appeared in the offing, charleston was quite ready to give the invaders a warm reception. fort sullivan was the chief work in the harbor, and against this parker began a vigorous cannonade early on the morning of the th of june. the fort had been built of logs of palmetto wood, and was looked upon with some distrust by its defenders, who did not know how well that material could withstand cannon-shot; but the opening volley of the fleet re-assured them. the balls penetrated deep in the soft, spongy wood without detaching any of the splinters, which, in a battle, are more dangerous than the shot themselves. the fort soon replied to the fire of the fleet; and the thunder of three hundred cannon rang out over the bay, while dense clouds of sulphurous smoke hid the scene from the eager gaze of the crowds of people on the housetops of the city. when the stately ships of the british squadron swung into line before the little wooden fort, there was hardly a sailor who did not take his station without a feeling of contempt for the insignificant obstacle that they were about to sweep from their path. but as the day wore on, and the ceaseless cannonade seemed to have no effect on the bastions of the fort, the case began to look serious. "mind the commodore, and the fifty-gun ships," was the command moultrie gave to the gunners in the fort when the action commenced, and right well did they heed the injunction. the quarter-decks of the ships-of-the-line were swept clean of officers. the gunners in the fort soon found that the fire of the enemy was doing little or no execution, and they sighted their guns as coolly as though out for a day's target practice. the huge iron balls crashed through the hulls of the ships, or swept their decks, doing terrific execution. the cable of the "bristol" was shot away, and she swung round with her stern to the fort. in this position she was raked repeatedly; her captain was killed, and at one time not an officer remained on her quarter-deck except the admiral sir peter parker. when the conflict ceased, this ship alone contained forty killed and seventy-one wounded men. the other ships suffered nearly as severely. the twenty-eight-gun ship "actæon" grounded during the course of the engagement; and when, after ten hours' fruitless cannonading, the british abandoned the task of reducing the fort, and determined to withdraw, she was found to be immovable. accordingly admiral parker signalled to her officer to abandon the ship, and set her on fire. this was accordingly done; and the ship was left with her colors flying, and her guns loaded. this movement was observed by the americans, who, in spite of the danger of an explosion, boarded the ship, fired her guns at the "bristol," loaded three boats with stores, and pulled away, leaving the "actæon" to blow up, which she did half an hour later. while the battle was at its hottest, and the shot and shell were flying thick over the fort, the flagstaff was shot away; and the flag of south carolina, a blue ground, bearing a silver crescent, fell on the beach outside the parapet. sergt. william jasper, seeing this, leaped on the bastion, walked calmly through the storm of flying missiles, picked up the flag, and fastened it upon a sponge-staff. then standing upon the highest point of the parapet, in full view of the ships and the men in the fort, he calmly fixed the staff upright, and returned to his place, leaving the flag proudly waving. the next day the governor of the colony visited the fort, and seeking out the brave sergeant, handed him a handsome sword and a lieutenant's commission. but jasper proved to be as modest as he was brave; for he declined the proffered promotion, with the remark,-- "i am not fit to keep officers' company; i am but a sergeant." the complete failure of the attack upon charleston was a bitter pill for the english to swallow. they had brought against the raw, untrained forces of the colony some of the finest ships of the boasted navy of great britain. they had fought well and pluckily. the fact that sir peter parker was in command was in itself a guaranty that the attack would be a spirited one; and the tremendous loss of life in the fleet affords convincing proof that no poltroonery lurked among the british sailors. the loss of the british during the engagement, in killed and wounded, amounted to two hundred and twenty-five men. the americans had ten men killed and twenty-two wounded. moultrie, the commandant of the fort, says that after the battle was over they picked up more than twelve hundred solid shot of different sizes, and many thirteen-inch shells. most of the shells that fell within the fort fell into a large pool of water, which extinguished their fuses, thus robbing them of their power for evil. in his report of this battle, admiral parker fell into a queer error. he reports that a large party of men entering the fort met a man going out, whom they straightway hanged to a neighboring tree, in full view of the fleet. from this the admiral concluded that there was an incipient mutiny in the fort, and the ringleader was hanged as an example. col. moultrie, however, explained this by stating that the man hanging in the tree was simply the coat of a soldier, which had been carried away by a cannon-shot, and left hanging in the branches. chapter vi. the career of paul jones. -- in command of the "providence." -- capture of the "mellish." -- exploits with the "alfred." -- in command of the "ranger." -- sweeping the english channel. -- the descent upon whitehaven. we have already spoken of the farcical affair between the fleet under ezekiel hopkins and the english frigate "glasgow," in which the english vessel, by superior seamanship, and taking advantage of the blunders of the americans, escaped capture. the primary result of this battle was to cause the dismissal from the service of hopkins. but his dismissal led to the advancement of a young naval officer, whose name became one of the most glorious in american naval annals, and whose fame as a skilful seaman has not been tarnished by the hand of time. [illustration: captain john paul jones quelling the mob at white haven, scotland, nov., .] at the time of the escape of the "glasgow," there was serving upon the "alfred" a young lieutenant, by name john paul jones. jones was a scotchman. his rightful name was john paul; but for some reason, never fully understood, he had assumed the surname of jones, and his record under the name of paul jones forms one of the most glorious chapters of american naval history. when given a lieutenant's commission in the colonial navy, jones was twenty-nine years old. from the day when a lad of thirteen years he shipped for his first voyage, he had spent his life on the ocean. he had served on peaceful merchantmen, and in the less peaceful, but at that time equally respectable, slave-trade. a small inheritance had enabled him to assume the station of a virginia gentleman; and he had become warmly attached to american ideas and principles, and at the outbreak of the revolution put his services at the command of congress. he was first offered a captain's commission with the command of the "providence," mounting twelve guns and carrying one hundred men. but with extraordinary modesty the young sailor declined, saying that he hardly felt himself fitted to discharge the duties of a first lieutenant. the lieutenant's commission, however, he accepted; and it was in this station that with his own hands he hoisted the first american flag to the masthead of the "alfred." the wretched fiasco which attended the attack of the american fleet upon the "glasgow" was greatly deplored by jones. however, he refrained from any criticism upon his superiors, and sincerely regretted the finding of the court of inquiry, by which the captain of the "providence" was dismissed the service, and lieut. paul jones recommended to fill the vacancy. the duties which devolved upon capt. jones were manifold and arduous. the ocean was swarming with powerful british men-of-war, which in his little craft he must avoid, while keeping a sharp outlook for foemen with whom he was equally matched. more than once, from the masthead of the "providence," the lookout could discover white sails of one or more vessels, any one of which, with a single broadside, could have sent the audacious yankee to the bottom. but luckily the "providence" was a fast sailer, and wonderfully obedient to her helm. to her good sailing qualities, and to his own admirable seamanship, jones owed more than one fortunate escape. once, when almost overtaken by a powerful man-of-war, he edged away until he brought his pursuer on his weather quarter; then, putting his helm up suddenly, he stood dead before the wind, thus doubling on his course, and running past his adversary within pistol-shot of her guns, but in a course directly opposite to that upon which she was standing. the heavy war-ship went plunging ahead like a heavy hound eluded by the agile fox, and the yankee proceeded safely on her course. some days later the "providence" was lying to on the great banks near the isle of sables. it was a holiday for the crew; for no sails were in sight, and capt. jones had indulgently allowed them to get out their cod-lines and enjoy an afternoon's fishing. in the midst of their sport, as they were hauling in the finny monsters right merrily, the hail of the lookout warned them that a strange sail was in sight. the stranger drew rapidly nearer, and was soon made out to be a war vessel. jones, finding after a short trial that his light craft could easily outstrip the lumbering man-of-war, managed to keep just out of reach. now and then the pursuer would luff up and let fly a broadside; the shot skipping along over the waves, but sinking before they reached the "providence." jones, who had an element of humor in his character, responded to this cannonade with one musket, which, with great solemnity, was discharged in response to each broadside. after keeping up this burlesque battle for some hours, the "providence" spread her sails, and soon left her foe hull down beneath the horizon. after having thus eluded his pursuer, jones skirted the coast of cape breton, and put into the harbor of canso, where he found three british fishing schooners lying at anchor. the inhabitants of the little fishing village were electrified to see the "providence" cast anchor in the harbor, and, lowering her boats, send two crews of armed sailors to seize the british craft. no resistance was made, however; and the americans burned one schooner, scuttled a second, and after filling the third with fish, taken from the other two, took her out of the harbor with the "providence" leading the way. from the crew of the captured vessel, jones learned that at the island of madame, not far from canso, there was a considerable flotilla of british merchantmen. accordingly he proceeded thither with the intention of destroying them. on arriving, he found the harbor too shallow to admit the "providence;" and accordingly taking up a position from which he could, with his cannon, command the harbor, he despatched armed boats' crews to attack the shipping. on entering the harbor, the americans found nine british vessels lying at anchor. ships and brigs, as well as small fishing schooners, were in the fleet. it was a rich prize for the americans, and it was won without bloodshed; for the peaceful fishermen offered no resistance to the yankees, and looked upon the capture of their vessels with amazement. the condition of these poor men, thus left on a bleak coast with no means of escape, appealed strongly to jones's humanity. he therefore told them, that, if they would assist him in making ready for sea such of the prizes as he wished to take with him, he would leave them vessels enough to carry them back to england. the fishermen heartily agreed to the proposition, and worked faithfully for several days at the task of fitting out the captured vessels. the night before the day on which jones had intended leaving the harbor, the wind came on to blow, and a violent storm of wind and rain set in. even the usually calm surface of the little harbor was lashed to fury by the shrieking wind. the schooner "sea-flower"--one of the captured prizes--was torn from her moorings; and though her crew got out the sweeps, and struggled valiantly for headway against the driving storm, she drifted on shore, and lay there a total wreck. the schooner "ebenezer," which jones had brought from canso laden with fish, drifted on a sunken reef, and was there so battered by the roaring waves that she went to pieces. her crew, after vainly striving to launch the boats, built a raft, and saved themselves on that. the next day the storm abated; and capt. jones, taking with him three heavily laden prizes, left the harbor, and turned his ship's prow homeward. the voyage to newport, then the headquarters of the little navy, was made without other incident than the futile chase of three british ships, which ran into the harbor of louisbourg. on his arrival, jones reported that he had been cruising for forty-seven days, and in that time had captured sixteen prizes, beside the fishing-vessels he burned at cape breton. eight of his prizes he had manned, and sent into port; the remainder he had burned. it was the first effective blow the colonists had yet struck at their powerful foe upon the ocean. hardly had paul jones completed this first cruise, when his mind, ever active in the service of his country, suggested to him a new enterprise in which he might contribute to the cause of american liberty. at this early period of the revolution, the british were treating american prisoners with almost inconceivable barbarity. many were sent to the "old jersey" prison-ship, of whose horrors we shall read something later on. others, to the number of about a hundred, were taken to cape breton, and forced to labor like russian felons in the underground coal-mines. jones's plan was bold in its conception, but needed only energy and promptitude to make it perfectly feasible. he besought the authorities to give him command of a squadron, that he might move on cape breton, destroy the british coal and fishing vessels always congregated there, and liberate the hapless americans who were passing their lives in the dark misery of underground mining. his plan was received with favor, but the authorities lacked the means to give him the proper aid. however, two vessels, the "alfred" and the "providence," were assigned to him; and he went speedily to work to prepare for the adventure. at the outset, he was handicapped by lack of men. the privateers were then fitting out in every port; and seamen saw in privateering easier service, milder discipline, and greater profits than they could hope for in the regular navy. when, by hard work, the muster-roll of the "alfred" showed her full complement of men shipped, the stormy month of november had arrived, and the golden hour for success was past. nevertheless, jones, taking command of the "alfred," and putting the "providence" in the command of capt. hacker, left newport, and laid his course to the northward. when he arrived off the entrance to the harbor of louisbourg, he was so lucky as to encounter an english brig, the "mellish," which, after a short resistance, struck her flag. she proved to be laden with heavy warm clothing for the british troops in canada. this capture was a piece of great good fortune for the americans, and many a poor fellow in washington's army that winter had cause to bless paul jones for his activity and success. the day succeeding the capture of the "mellish" dawned gray and cheerless. light flurries of snow swept across the waves, and by noon a heavy snowstorm, driven by a violent north-east gale, darkened the air, and lashed the waves into fury. jones stood dauntless at his post on deck, encouraging the sailors by cheery words, and keeping the sturdy little vessel on her course. all day and night the storm roared; and when, the next morning, jones, wearied by his ceaseless vigilance, looked anxiously across the waters for his consort, she was not to be seen. the people on the "alfred" supposed, of course, that the "providence" was lost, with all on board, and mourned the sad fate of their comrades. but, in fact, capt. hacker, affrighted by the storm, had basely deserted his leader during the night, and made off for newport, leaving jones to prosecute his enterprise alone. jones recognized in this desertion the knell of the enterprise upon which he had embarked. nevertheless, he disdained to return to port: so sending the "mellish" and a second prize, which the british afterwards recaptured, back to massachusetts, he continued his cruise along the nova scotia coast. again he sought out the harbor of canso, and, entering it, found a large english transport laden with provisions aground just inside the bar. boats' crews from the "alfred" soon set the torch to the stranded ship, and then, landing, fired a huge warehouse filled with whale-oil and the products of the fisheries. leaving the blazing pile behind, the "alfred" put out again into the stormy sea, and made for the northward. as he approached louisbourg, jones fell in with a considerable fleet of british coal-vessels, in convoy of the frigate "flora." a heavy fog hung over the ocean; and the fleet yankee, flying here and there, was able to cut out and capture three of the vessels without alarming the frigate, that continued unsuspectingly on her course. two days later, jones snapped up a liverpool privateer, that fired scarcely a single gun in resistance. then crowded with prisoners, embarrassed by prizes, and short of food and water, the "alfred" turned her course homeward. five valuable prizes sailed in her wake. anxiety for the safety of these gave jones no rest by day or night. he was ceaselessly on the watch lest some hostile man-of-war should overhaul his fleet, and force him to abandon his hard-won fruits of victory. all went well until, when off st. george's bank, he encountered the frigate "milford,"--the same craft to whose cannon-balls jones, but a few months before, had tauntingly responded with musket-shots. it was late in the afternoon when the "milford" was sighted; and jones, seeing that she could by no possibility overtake his squadron before night, ordered his prizes to continue their course without regard to any lights or apparent signals from the "alfred." when darkness fell upon the sea, the yankees were scudding along on the starboard tack, with the englishman coming bravely up astern. from the tops of the "alfred" swung two burning lanterns, which the enemy doubtless pronounced a bit of beastly stupidity on the part of the yankee, affording, as it did, an excellent guide for the pursuer to steer by. but during the night the wily jones changed his course. the prizes, with the exception of the captured privateer, continued on the starboard tack. the "alfred" and the privateer made off on the port tack, with the "milford" in full cry in their wake. not until the morning dawned did the englishman discover how he had been tricked. having thus secured the safety of his prizes, it only remained for jones to escape with the privateer. unluckily, however, the officer put in charge of the privateer proved incapable, and his craft fell into hands of the british. jones, however, safely carried the "alfred" clear of the "milford's" guns, and, a heavy storm coming up, soon eluded his foe in the snow and darkness. thereupon he shaped his course for boston, where he arrived on the th of december, . had he been delayed two days longer, both his provisions and his water would have been exhausted. for the ensuing six months jones remained on shore, not by any means inactive, for his brain was teeming with great projects for his country's service. he had been deprived of the command of the "alfred," and another ship was not easily to be found: so he turned his attention to questions of naval organization, and the results of many of his suggestions are observable in the united states navy to-day. it was not until june , , that a command was found for him. this was the eighteen-gun ship "ranger," built to carry a frigate's battery of twenty-six guns. she had been built for the revolutionary government, at portsmouth, and was a stanch-built, solid craft, though miserably slow and somewhat crank. jones, though disappointed with the sailing qualities of the craft, was nevertheless vastly delighted to be again in command of a man-of-war, and wasted no time in getting her ready for sea. it so happened, that, on the very day paul jones received his commission as commander of the "ranger," the continental congress adopted the stars and stripes for the national flag. jones, anticipating this action, had prepared a flag in accordance with the proposed designs, and, upon hearing of the action of congress, had it run to the masthead, while the cannon of the "ranger" thundered out their deep-mouthed greetings to the starry banner destined to wave over the most glorious nation of the earth. thus it happened that the same hand that had given the pine-tree banner to the winds was the first to fling out to the breezes the bright folds of the stars and stripes. early in october the "ranger" left portsmouth, and made for the coast of france. astute agents of the americans in that country were having a fleet, powerful frigate built there for jones, which he was to take, leaving the sluggish "ranger" to be sold. but, on his arrival at nantes, jones was grievously disappointed to learn that the british government had so vigorously protested against the building of a vessel-of-war in france for the americans, that the french government had been obliged to notify the american agents that their plan must be abandoned. france was at this time at peace with great britain, and, though inclined to be friendly with the rebellious colonies, was not ready to entirely abandon her position as a neutral power. later, when she took up arms against england, she gave the americans every right in her ports they could desire. jones thus found himself in european waters with a vessel too weak to stand against the frigates england could send to take her, and too slow to elude them. but he determined to strike some effective blows for the cause of liberty. accordingly he planned an enterprise, which, for audacity of conception and dash in execution, has never been equalled by any naval expedition since. this was nothing less than a virtual invasion of england. the "ranger" lay at brest. jones planned to dash across the english channel, and cruise along the coast of england, burning shipping and towns, as a piece of retaliation upon the british for their wanton outrages along the american coast. it was a bold plan. the channel was thronged with the heavy frigates of great britain, any one of which could have annihilated the audacious yankee cruiser. nevertheless, jones determined to brave the danger. at the outset, it seemed as though his purpose was to be balked by heavy weather. for days after the "ranger" left brest, she battled against the chop-seas of the english channel. the sky was dark, and the light of the sun obscured by gray clouds. the wind whistled through the rigging, and tore at the tightly furled sails. great green walls of water, capped with snowy foam, beat thunderously against the sides of the "ranger." now and then a port would be driven in, and the men between decks drenched by the incoming deluge. the "ranger" had encountered an equinoctial gale in its worst form. when the gale died away, jones found himself off the scilly islands, in full view of the coast of england. here he encountered a merchantman, which he took and scuttled, sending the crew ashore to spread the news that an american man-of-war was ravaging the channel. having alarmed all england, he changed his hunting-ground to st. george's channel and the irish sea, where he captured several ships; sending one, a prize, back to brest. he was in waters with which he had been familiar from his youth, and he made good use of his knowledge; dashing here and there, lying in wait in the highway of commerce, and then secreting himself in some sequestered cove while the enemy's ship-of-war went by in fruitless search for the marauder. all england was aroused by the exploits of the yankee cruiser. never since the days of the invincible armada had war been so brought home to the people of the tight little island. long had the british boastfully claimed the title of monarch of the seas. long had they sung the vainglorious song,-- "britannia needs no bulwarks, no towers along the steep; her march is o'er the mountain waves, her home is on the deep." but paul jones showed great britain that her boasted power was a bubble. he ravaged the seas within cannon-shot of english headlands. he captured and burned merchantmen, drove the rates of insurance up to panic prices, paralyzed british shipping-trade, and even made small incursions into british territory. the reports that reached jones of british barbarity along the american coast, of the burning of falmouth, of tribute levied on innumerable seaport towns,--all aroused in him a determination to strike a retaliatory blow. whitehaven, a small seaport, was the spot chosen by him for attack; and he brought his ship to off the mouth of the harbor late one night, intending to send in a boat's crew to fire the shipping. but so strong a wind sprung up, as to threaten to drive the ship ashore; and jones was forced to make sail, and get an offing. a second attempt, made upon a small harbor called lochryan, on the western coast of scotland, was defeated by a like cause. but the expedition against lochryan, though in itself futile, was the means of giving jones an opportunity to show his merits as a fighter. soon after leaving lochryan, he entered the bay of carrichfergus, on which is situated the irish commercial city of belfast. the bay was constantly filled with merchantmen; and the "ranger," with her ports closed, and her warlike character carefully disguised, excited no suspicion aboard a trim, heavy-built craft that lay at anchor a little farther up the bay. this craft was the british man-of-war "drake," mounting twenty guns. soon after his arrival in the bay, jones learned the character of the "drake," and determined to attempt her capture during the night. accordingly he dropped anchor near by, and, while carefully concealing the character of his craft, made every preparation for a midnight fight. the men sat between decks, sharpening cutlasses, and cleaning and priming their pistols; the cannon were loaded with grape, and depressed for work at close quarters; battle lanterns were hung in place, ready to be lighted at the signal for action. at ten o'clock, the tramp of men about the capstan gave notice that the anchor was being brought to the catheads. soon the creaking of cordage, and the snapping of the sails, told that the fresh breeze was being caught by the spreading sails. then the waves rippled about the bow of the ship, and the "ranger" was fairly under way. it was a pitch-dark night, but the lights on board the "drake" showed where she was lying. on the "ranger" all lights were extinguished, and no noise told of her progress towards her enemy. it was the captain's plan to run his vessel across the "drake's" cable, drop his own anchor, let the "ranger" swing alongside the englishman, and then fight it out at close quarters. but this plan, though well laid, failed of execution. the anchor was not let fall in season; and the "ranger," instead of bringing up alongside her enemy, came to anchor half a cable-length astern. the swift-flowing tide and the fresh breeze made it impossible to warp the ship alongside: so jones ordered the cable cut, and the "ranger" scudded down the bay before the ever-freshening gale. it does not appear that the people on the "drake" were aware of the danger they so narrowly escaped. the wind that had aided the tide in defeating jones's enterprise blew stronger and stronger, and before morning the sea was tossing before a regular north-east gale. against it the "ranger" could make no headway: so jones gave his ship her head, and scudded before the wind until within the vicinity of whitehaven, when he determined to again attempt to destroy the shipping in that port. this time he was successful. bringing the "ranger" to anchor near the bar, capt. jones called for volunteers to accompany him on the expedition. he himself was to be their leader; for as a boy he had often sailed in and out of the little harbor, knew where the forts stood, and where the colliers anchored most thickly. the landing party was divided into two boat-loads; jones taking command of one, while lieut. wallingford held the tiller of the other boat. with muffled oars the americans made for the shore, the boats' keels grated upon the pebbly shore, and an instant later the adventurers had scaled the ramparts of the forts, and had made themselves masters of the garrisons. all was done quietly. the guns in the fortifications were spiked; and, leaving the few soldiers on guard gagged and bound, jones and his followers hastened down to the wharves to set fire to the shipping. in the harbor were not less than two hundred and twenty vessels, large and small. on the north side of the harbor, near the forts, were about one hundred and fifty vessels. these jones undertook to destroy. the others were left to lieut. wallingford, with his boat's crew of fifteen picked men. when jones and his followers reached the cluster of merchantmen, they found their torches so far burned out as to be useless. failure stared them in the face then, when success was almost within their grasp. jones, however, was not to be balked of his prey. running his boat ashore, he hastened to a neighboring house, where he demanded candles. with these he returned, led his men aboard a large ship from which the crew fled, and deliberately built a fire in her hold. lest the fire should go out, he found a barrel of tar, and threw it upon the flames. then with the great ship roaring and crackling, and surrounded by scores of other vessels in danger from the flames, jones withdrew, thinking his work complete. many writers have criticised paul jones for not having stayed longer to complete the destruction of the vessels in the harbor. but, with the gradually brightening day, his position, which was at the best very dangerous, was becoming desperate. there were one hundred and fifty vessels in that part of the harbor; the crews averaged ten men to a vessel: so that nearly fifteen hundred men were opposed to the plucky little band of americans. the roar of the fire aroused the people of the town, and they rushed in crowds to the wharf. in describing the affair jones writes, "the inhabitants began to appear in thousands, and individuals ran hastily toward us. i stood between them and the ship on fire, with my pistol in my hand, and ordered them to stand, which they did with some precipitation. the sun was a full hour's march above the horizon; and, as sleep no longer ruled the world, it was time to retire. we re-embarked without opposition, having released a number of prisoners, as our boats could not carry them. after all my people had embarked, i stood upon the pier for a considerable space, yet no person advanced. i saw all the eminences round the town covered with the amazed inhabitants." as his boat drew away from the blazing shipping, jones looked anxiously across the harbor to the spot to which lieut. wallingford had been despatched. but no flames were seen in that quarter; for, wallingford's torches having gone out, he had abandoned the enterprise. and so the americans, having regained their ship, took their departure, leaving only one of the enemy's vessels burning. a most lame and impotent conclusion it was indeed; but, as jones said, "what was done is sufficient to show that not all the boasted british navy is sufficient to protect their own coasts, and that the scenes of distress which they have occasioned in america may soon be brought home to their own doors." chapter vii. career of paul jones continued. -- his descent upon the castle of lord selkirk -- the affair of the plate. -- the descent upon whitehaven. -- the battle with the "drake."-lieut. simpson's perfidy. we now come to the glorious part of the career of paul jones upon the ocean. heretofore he has been chiefly occupied in the capture of defenceless merchantmen. his work has been that of the privateer, even if not of the pirate that the british have always claimed he was. but the time came when jones proved that he was ready to fight an adversary of his mettle; was willing to take heavy blows, and deal stunning ones in return. his daring was not confined to dashing expeditions in which the danger was chiefly overcome by spirit and rapid movements. while this class of operations was ever a favorite with the doughty seaman, he was not at all averse to the deadly naval duel. we shall for a time abandon our account of the general naval incidents of the revolution, to follow the career of paul jones to the end of the war. his career is not only the most interesting, but the most important, feature of the naval operations of that war. he stands out alone, a grand figure in naval history, as does decatur in the wars with the barbary pirates, or farragut in the war for the union. the war of affords no such example of single greatness in the navy. there we find perry, mcdonough, and porter, all equally great. but in ' there was no one to stand beside paul jones. when the "ranger" left the harbor of whitehaven, her captain was heavy hearted. he felt that he had had the opportunity to strike a heavy blow at the british shipping, but had nevertheless inflicted only a trifling hurt. angry with himself for not having better planned the adventure, and discontented with his lieutenant for not having by presence of mind prevented the fiasco, he felt that peace of mind could only be obtained by some deed of successful daring. he was cruising in seas familiar to him as a sailor. along the scottish shores his boyhood hours had been spent. this knowledge he sought to turn to account. from the deck of his ship, he could see the wooded shores of st. mary's island, on which were the landed estates of lord selkirk, a british noble, of ancient lineage and political prominence. on the estate of this nobleman paul jones was born, and there he passed the few years of his life that elapsed before he forsook the land for his favorite element. leaning against the rail on the quarter-deck of the "ranger," jones could see through his spy-glass the turrets and spires of lord selkirk's castle. as he gazed, there occurred to him the idea, that if he could send a landing party ashore, seize the castle, capture the peer, and bear him off into captivity, he would not only strike terror into the hearts of the british, but would give the americans a prisoner who would serve as a hostage to secure good treatment for the hapless americans who had fallen into the hands of the enemy. with jones, the conception of a plan was followed by its swift execution. disdaining to wait for nightfall, he chose two boats' crews of tried and trusty men, and landed. the party started up the broad and open highway leading to the castle. they had gone but a few rods, however, when they encountered two countrymen, who stared a moment at the force of armed men, and then turned in fear to escape. "halt!" rang out the clear voice of the leader of the blue-jackets; and the peasants fell upon their faces in abject terror. jones directed that they be brought to him; and he questioned them kindly, setting their minds at rest, and learning from them much of the castle and its inmates. lord selkirk was away from home. this to jones was bitter news. it seemed as though some evil genius was dogging his footsteps, bringing failure upon his most carefully planned enterprises. but he was not a man to repine over the inevitable, and he promptly ordered his men to the right about, and made for the landing-place again. but the sailors were not so unselfish in their motives as their captain. they had come ashore expecting to plunder the castle of the earl, and they now murmured loudly over the abandonment of the adventure. they saw the way clear before them. no guards protected the house. the massive ancestral plate, with which all english landed families are well provided, was unprotected by bolts or bars. they felt that, in retreating, they were throwing away a chance to despoil their enemy, and enrich themselves. jones felt the justice of the complaint of the sailors; but only after a fierce struggle with his personal scruples could he yield the point. the grounds of the earl of selkirk had been his early playground. a lodge on the vast estate had been his childhood's home. lady selkirk had shown his family many kindnesses. to now come to her house as a robber and pillager, seemed the blackest ingratitude; but, on the other hand, he had no right to permit his personal feelings to interfere with his duty to the crew. the sailors had followed him into danger many a time, and this was their first opportunity for financial reward. and, even if it was fair to deny them this chance to make a little prize-money, it would hardly be safe to sow the seeds of discontent among the crew while on a cruise in waters infested with the enemy's ships. with a sigh jones abandoned his intention of protecting the property of lady selkirk, and ordered his lieutenant to proceed to the castle, and capture the family plate. jones himself returned to the ship, resolved to purchase the spoils at open sale, and return them to their former owner. the blue-jackets continued their way up the highway, and, turning aside where a heavy gate opened into a stately grove, demanded of an old man who came, wondering, out of the lodge, that he give them instant admittance. then, swinging into a trot, they ran along the winding carriage-drive until they came out on the broad lawn that extended in front of the castle. here for the first time they were seen by the inmates of the castle; and faint screams of fear, and shouts of astonishment, came from the open windows of the stately pile. the men-servants came rushing out to discover who the lawless crowd that so violated the sanctity of an english earl's private park could be; but their curiosity soon abated when a few stout blue-jackets, cutlass and pistol in hand, surrounded them, and bade them keep quiet. the lieutenant, with two stout seamen at his back, then entered the castle, and sought out the mistress, who received him with calm courtesy, with a trace of scorn, but with no sign of fear. briefly the lieutenant told his errand. the countess gave an order to a butler, and soon a line of stout footmen entered, bearing the plate. heavy salvers engraved with the family arms of lord selkirk, quaint drinking-cups and flagons curiously carved, ewers, goblets, platters, covers, dishes, teapots, and all kinds of table utensils were there, all of exquisitely artistic workmanship, and bearing the stamp of antiquity. when all was ready, the lieutenant called in two of the sailors from the lawn; and soon the whole party, bearing the captured treasure, disappeared in the curves of the road. this incident, simple enough in reality, the novelist fenimore cooper has made the germ of one of his exquisite sea-tales, "the pilot." british historians have made of it an example by which to prove the lawlessness and base ingratitude of paul jones. as may readily be imagined, it stirred up at the time the most intense excitement in england. jones became the bugbear of timid people. his name was used to frighten little children. he was called pirate, traitor, free-booter, plunderer. it was indeed a most audacious act that he had committed. never before or since had the soil of england been trodden by a hostile foot. never had a british peer been forced to feel that his own castle was not safe from the invader. jones, with his handful of american tars, had accomplished a feat which had never before been accomplished, and which no later foeman of england has dared to repeat. it is little wonder that the british papers described him as a bloodthirsty desperado. a few weeks later, the captured plate was put up for sale by the prize agents. capt. jones, though not a rich man, bought it, and returned it to the countess. lord selkirk, in acknowledging its receipt, wrote,-- "and on all occasions, both now and formerly, i have done you the justice to tell that you made an offer of returning the plate very soon after your return to brest; and although you yourself were not at my house, but remained at the shore with your boat, that you had your officers and men in such extraordinary good discipline, that your having given them the strictest orders to behave well,--to do no injury of any kind, to make no search, but only to bring off what plate was given them,--that in reality they did exactly as was ordered; and that not one man offered to stir from his post on the outside of the house, nor entered the doors, nor said an uncivil word; that the two officers stayed not one-quarter of an hour in the parlor and in the butler's pantry while the butler got the plate together, behaved politely, and asked for nothing but the plate, and instantly marched their men off in regular order; and that both officers and men behaved in all respects so well, that it would have done credit to the best-disciplined troops whatever." but the british took little notice of the generous reparation made by capt. jones, and continued to hurl abuse and hard names at him. jones was vastly disappointed at his failure to capture the person of lord selkirk. the story of the sufferings of his countrymen in british prisons worked upon his heart, and he longed to take captive a personage whom he could hold as hostage. but, soon after leaving st. mary's isle, he fell in again with the british man-of-war "drake;" and as a result of this encounter he had prisoners enough to exchange for many hapless americans languishing in hulks and prisons. after the wind and tide had defeated the midnight attempt made by jones to capture the "drake," that craft had remained quietly at her anchorage, little suspecting that the bay of carrickfergus had held so dangerous a neighbor. but soon reports of the "ranger's" depredations began to reach the ears of the british captain. the news of the desperate raid upon whitehaven became known to him. he therefore determined to leave his snug anchorage, and go in search of the audacious yankee. just as the captain of the "drake" had reached this determination, and while he was making sail, the "ranger" appeared off the mouth of the harbor. the "drake" promptly sent out a boat to examine the strange craft, and report upon her character. jones saw her coming, and resolved to throw her off the scent. accordingly, by skilful seamanship, he kept the stern of the "ranger" continually presented to the prying eyes in the british boat. turn which way they might, be as swift in their manoeuvres as they might, the british scouts could see nothing of the "ranger" but her stern, pierced with two cabin windows, as might be the stern of any merchantman. her sides, dotted with frowning ports, were kept securely hidden from their eyes. though provided with spy-glasses, the people in the boat were totally deceived. unsuspectingly they came up under the stern of the "ranger," and demanded to come on board. as the officer in command clambered up a rope, and vaulted the taffrail to the quarter-deck, he saw paul jones and his lieutenants, in full uniform, standing before him. "why,--why, what ship's this?" stammered the astonished officer. "this is the american continental ship 'ranger,' and you are my prisoner," responded jones; and at the words a few sailors, with cutlasses and pistols, called to the men in the boat alongside, to come aboard and give themselves up. from his captives jones learned that the news of the whitehaven raid had reached the "drake" only the night before; and that she had been re-enforcing her crew with volunteers, preparatory to going out in search of the "ranger." as he stood talking to the captured british naval officer, jones noticed slender columns of smoke rising from the woods on neighboring highlands, where he knew there were no houses. "what does that mean?" he asked. "alarm fires, sir," answered the captive; "the news of your descent upon whitehaven is terrifying the whole country." soon, however, the attention of the americans was diverted from the signal-fires to the "drake." an appearance of life and bustle was observable about the boat. the shrill notes of the boatswain's whistle, and the tramp of men about the capstan, came faintly over the waters. the rigging was full of sailors, and the sails were being quickly spread to catch the fresh breeze. soon the ship began to move slowly from her anchorage; she heeled a little to one side, and, responsive to her helm, turned down the bay. she was coming out to look after her lost boat. jones determined to hold his ground, and give battle to the englishman. he at once began to prepare for battle in every way possible without alarming the enemy. the great guns were loaded and primed. cutlasses and pistols were brought up from the armorer's room, and placed in convenient locations on the main deck, so that the boarders might find them when needed. the powder-monkeys, stripped for action, and the handlers and cartridge-makers entered the powder-magazine, and prepared to hand out the deadly explosive. the cook and his assistant strewed sawdust and ashes about the decks, to catch the blood, and keep the men from slipping. every one was busy, from the captain down to the galley-boy. there was plenty of time to prepare; for the tide was out, and the "drake," beating down a narrow channel, made but slow headway. the delay was a severe strain upon the nerves of the men, who stood silent and grim at their quarters on the american ship, waiting for the fight to begin. at such a moment, even the most courageous must lose heart, as he thinks upon the terrible ordeal through which he must pass. visions of home and loved ones flit before his misty eyes; and jack chokes down a sob as he hides his emotion in nervously fingering the lock of his gun, or taking a squint through the port-holes at the approaching enemy. at length the "drake" emerged from the narrow channel of the harbor, and coming within hailing distance of the "ranger," ran up the flag of england, and hailed,-- "what ship is that?" paul jones, himself standing on the taffrail, made answer,-- "this is the american continental ship 'ranger.' we are waiting for you. the sun is but little more than an hour from setting. it is therefore time to begin." the "drake" lay with her bow towards the "ranger," and a little astern. as jones finished speaking, he turned to the man at the wheel, and said, "put your helm up. up, i say!" quickly responsive to her helm, the vessel swung round; and, as her broadside came to bear, she let fly a full broadside of solid shot into the crowded decks and hull of the "drake." through timbers and planks, flesh and bone, the iron hail rushed, leaving death, wounds, and destruction in its path. the volunteers that the "drake" had added to her crew so crowded the decks, that the execution was fearful. it seemed as though every shot found a human mark. but the british were not slow to return the fire, and the roar of their broadside was heard before the thunder of the american fire had ceased to reverberate among the hills along the shore. then followed a desperate naval duel. the tide of victory flowed now this way, and now that. jones kept his ship at close quarters with the enemy, and stood on the quarter-deck urging on his gunners, now pointing out some vulnerable spot, now applauding a good shot, at one time cheering, and at another swearing, watching every movement of his foe, and giving quick but wise orders to his helmsman, his whole mind concentrated upon the course of battle, and with never a thought for his own safety. for more than an hour the battle raged, but the superior gunnery of the americans soon began to tell. the "drake" fought under no colors, her ensign having been shot away early in the action. but the spirited manner in which her guns were worked gave assurance that she had not struck. the american fire had wrought great execution on the deck of the englishman. her captain was desperately wounded early in the fight; and the first lieutenant, who took his place, was struck down by a musket-ball from the "ranger's" tops. the cock-pit of the "drake" was like a butcher's shambles, so bespattered was it with blood. but on the "ranger" there was little execution. the brave wallingford, jones's first lieutenant and right-hand man, was killed early in the action, and one poor fellow accompanied him to his long account; but beyond this there were no deaths. six men only were wounded. the sun was just dipping the lower edge of its great red circle beneath the watery horizon, when the "drake" began to show signs of failing. first her fire slackened. a few guns would go off at a time, followed by a long silence. that portion of her masts which was visible above the clouds of gunpowder-smoke showed plainly the results of american gunnery. the sails were shot to ribbons. the cordage cut by the flying shot hung loosely down, or was blown out by the breeze. the spars were shattered, and hung out of place. the main-mast canted to leeward, and was in imminent danger of falling. the jib had been shot away entirely, and was trailing in the water alongside the ship. gradually the fire of the "drake" slackened, until at last it had ceased altogether. noticing this, capt. jones gave orders to cease firing; and soon silence reigned over the bay that had for an hour resounded with the thunder of cannon. as the smoke that enveloped the two ships cleared away, the people on the "ranger" could see an officer standing on the rail of the "drake" waving a white flag. at the sight a mighty huzza went up from the gallant lads on the yankee ship, which was, however, quickly checked by jones. "have you struck your flag?" he shouted through a speaking-trumpet. "we have, sir," was the response. "then lay by until i send a boat aboard," directed capt. jones; and soon after a cutter put off from the side of the "ranger," and made for the captured ship. the boarding-officer clambered over the bulwarks of the "drake," and, veteran naval officer as he was, started in amazement at the scene of bloodshed before him. he had left a ship on which were two dead and six wounded men. he had come to a ship on which were forty men either dead or seriously wounded. two dismounted cannon lay across the deck, one resting on the shattered and bleeding fragments of a man, torn to pieces by a heavy shot. the deck was slippery with blood. the cock-pit was not large enough to hold all the wounded; and many sufferers lay on the deck crying piteously for aid, and surrounded by the mangled bodies of their dead comrades. the body of the captain, who had died of his wound, lay on the deserted quarter-deck. hastily the american officer noted the condition of the prize, and returned to his own ship for aid. all the boats of the "ranger" were then lowered, and in the growing darkness the work of taking possession of the prize began. most of the prisoners were transferred to the "ranger." the dead were thrown overboard without burial service or ceremony of any kind, such is the grim earnestness of war. such of the wounded as could not be taken care of in the sick-bay of the "drake" were transferred to the "ranger." the decks were scrubbed, holystoned, and sprinkled with hot vinegar to take away the smell of the blood-soaked planks. cordage was spliced, sails mended, shot-holes plugged up; and, by the time morning came, the two ships were sufficiently repaired to be ready to leave the bay. but, before leaving, capt. jones set at liberty two fishermen, whom he had captured several days before, and held prisoners lest they should spread the news of his presence in those parts. while the fishermen had been taken on board the "ranger," and treated with the utmost kindness, their boat had been made fast alongside. unluckily, however, the stormy weather had torn the boat from its fastenings; and it foundered before the eyes of its luckless owners, who bitterly bewailed their hard fate as they saw their craft disappear. but, when they came to leave the "ranger," their sorrow was turned to joy; for jones gave them money enough to buy for them a new boat and outfit,--a bit of liberality very characteristic of the man. when the "drake" was in condition to sail, jones put her in command of lieut. simpson, and the two vessels left the bay. this choice of commander proved to be an unfortunate one. simpson was in many ways a most eccentric officer. he was a violent advocate of equal rights of all men, and even went so far as to disbelieve in the discipline without which no efficiency can be obtained on ship-board. he was an eighteenth-century sir joseph porter. he believed that all questions of importance on ship-board should be settled by a vote of the crew; that the captain was, in a certain sense, only perpetual chairman of a meeting, and should only execute the will of the sailors. naturally, this view of an officer's authority was little relished by lieut. simpson's brother officers, and he had for some time been greatly dissatisfied with his position. when it came about, therefore, that the "ranger," seeing a strange sail in the offing, left the "drake" to go in pursuit of the stranger, lieut. simpson saw his chance to make off with the "drake," and thus rid himself of the disagreeable necessity of submitting to the orders of a superior officer. this course he determined to adopt; and when jones, having overtaken the stranger and found her a neutral, turned to rejoin his prize, he was vastly astounded at the evolutions of the "drake." the vessel which he had left in charge of one of his trusted officers seemed to be trying to elude him. she was already hull down on the horizon, and was carrying every stitch of sail. the "ranger" signalled to her colleague to return, but in vain. several large ships were in sight; but jones, perplexed by the strange antics of his consort, abandoned all thoughts of making captures, and made after the rapidly vanishing "drake." as the "ranger" cut through the ugly cross seas of the channel, jones revolved in his mind the causes which might lead to the inexplicable flight of his consort. his chief fear was that the prisoners on the "drake" might have risen, overpowered their captors, and were then endeavoring to take the ship into a british port. convinced that this was the true explanation of the matter, jones made tremendous efforts to overhaul the prize before the night should give her an opportunity to elude pursuit. every thing from jib-boom to main-truck, that would draw, was set on the "ranger;" and the gallant little vessel ploughed along at a rate that almost belied her reputation as a slow craft. after an hour's run, it became evident that the "ranger" was gaining ground. nevertheless, darkness settled over the waters, and the "drake" was still far in the lead. it was not until the next day that the runaway was overhauled. upon boarding the "drake," jones found, to his intense indignation, that not to the revolt of the captives, but to the wilful and silly insubordination of lieut. simpson, the flight of the captured vessel was due. this officer, feeling himself aggrieved by something jones had said or done, had determined to seize upon the "drake," repair her in some french port, and thenceforward to cruise as a privateer. this plan was nipped in the bud by jones, who put the disobedient officer in irons, and carried the "drake" into brest as a prize. all europe now rang with the praises of paul jones. looked at in the calm light of history, his achievements do not appear so very remarkable. but it is none the less true that they have never been paralleled. before the day of paul jones, no hostile vessel had ever swept the english channel and irish sea clear of british merchantmen. and since the day of paul jones the exploit has never been repeated, save by the little american brig "argus" in the war of . but neither before nor since the day of paul jones has the spectacle of a british ship in an english port, blazing with fire applied by the torches of an enemy, been seen. and no other man than paul jones has, for several centuries, led an invading force down the level highways, and across the green fields, of england. chapter viii. the career of paul jones continued. -- his search for a ship. -- given command of the "bon homme richard." -- landais and his character. -- the frustrated mutiny. -- landais quarrels with jones. -- edinburgh and leith threatened. -- the dominie's prayer. when paul jones arrived at brest, bringing the captured drake, he found the situation of affairs materially altered. france had acknowledged the independence of the american colonies, and had openly espoused their cause as against that of great britain. it was no longer necessary to resort to cunning deceptions to buy a war-ship or sell a prize in a french port. french vessels, manned by french crews and commanded by french officers, were putting to sea to strike a blow against the british. french troops were being sent to america. the stars and stripes waved by the side of the _fleur de lys_; and benjamin franklin, the american envoy, was the lion of french society, and the idol of the parisian mob. paul jones saw in this friendship of france for the struggling colonies his opportunity. heretofore he had been condemned to command only slow-going, weak ships. he had been hampered by a lack of funds for the payment of his crew and the purchase of provisions. more than once the inability of the impoverished continental congress to provide the sinews of war had forced him to go down into his own purse for the necessary funds. all this period of penury he now felt was past. he could rely upon the king of france for a proper vessel, and the funds with which to prosecute his work on the seas. accordingly, when the "ranger" was again ready for sea, he turned her over to the insubordinate lieut. simpson, while he himself remained in france with the expectation of being provided with a better ship. but the sturdy seaman soon found how vexatious is the lot of him who depends upon the bounty of monarchs. ship after ship was put in commission, but no command was tendered to the distinguished american. the french naval officers had first to be attended to. jones made earnest appeals to the minister of the marine. he brought every possible influence to bear. his claims were urged by dr. franklin, but all to no avail. at last an appointment came. it was to command an english prize, lately captured and brought into brest. thither went jones to examine the craft. much to his disappointment, he found her very slow; and this determined him to decline the commission. "i wish to have no connection with any ship that does not sail fast," he wrote to a gentleman who had secured for him the appointment; "for i intend to go in harm's way. you know i believe that this is not every one's intention. therefore, buy a frigate that sails fast, and that is sufficiently large to carry twenty-six or twenty-eight guns, not less than twelve-pounders, on one deck. i would rather be shot ashore than sent to sea in such things as the armed prizes i have described." five months of waiting and ceaseless solicitation of the authorities still left the sailor, who had won so many victories, stranded in shameful inactivity. he had shrunk from a personal interview with the king, trusting rather to the efforts of his friends, many of whom were in high favor at versailles. but one day he happened to light upon an old copy of "poor richard's almanac," that unique publication in which benjamin franklin printed so many wise maxims and witty sayings. as jones listlessly turned its pages, his eye fell upon the maxim,-- "if you wish to have any business done faithfully and expeditiously, go and do it yourself. otherwise, send some one." shutting the book, and dashing it to the floor, jones sprang to his feet exclaiming, "i will go to versailles this very day." before night he set out, and soon reached the royal court. his reputation easily gained him an interview; and his frank, self-reliant way so impressed the monarch, that in five days the american was tendered the command of the ship "daras," mounting forty guns. great was the exultation of the american seaman at this happy termination of his labor. full of gratitude to the distinguished philosopher whose advice had proved so effective, he wrote to the minister of marine, begging permission to change the name of the vessel to the "poor richard," or, translated into french, the "bon homme richard." permission was readily granted; and thereafter the "bon homme richard," with paul jones on the quarter-deck, did valiant work for the cause of the young american republic. the "bon homme richard" was lying in the harbor of l'orient when jones visited her to examine his new ship. he found her a fairly well modelled craft, giving promise of being a good sailer. she had one of the high pitched poops that were so common in the early part of the last century, and that gave to the sterns of ships of that period the appearance of lofty towers. originally she was a single-decked ship, mounting her battery on one gun-deck, with the exception of a few cannon on the quarter-deck and forecastle. the gun-deck mounted twenty-eight guns, all twelve-pounders. on the quarter-deck and forecastle were eight long nines. to this armament jones at once added six eighteen-pounders, which were mounted in the gun-room below. to man this vessel, jones was obliged to recruit a most motley crew. few american seamen were then in france, and he considered himself fortunate to find enough to fill the stations of officers on the quarter-deck and forward. for his crew proper he was forced to accept an undisciplined crowd of portuguese, norwegians, germans, spaniards, swedes, italians, malays, scotch, irish, and even a few englishmen. about a hundred and thirty-five marines were put aboard to keep order among this rabble; and, even with this aid to discipline, it is wonderful that no disturbance ever broke out in a crew that was made up of so many discordant elements. while the "bon homme richard" was being made ready for sea, the vessels that were to sail with her as consorts were making for the rendezvous at l'orient. these vessels were the "pallas," "cerf," "vengeance," and "alliance." the three former were small vessels, built in france, and manned wholly by frenchmen. the "alliance" was a powerful, well-built american frigate, carrying an american crew, but commanded by a french officer,--capt. landais. this vessel was the last to arrive at the rendezvous, as she had a stormy and somewhat eventful trip across the ocean. the "alliance" was a thirty-two gun frigate, built under the supervision of the american marine committee, and which had come to european waters, bringing as a passenger the distinguished gen. lafayette. as has been stated, she was under the command of a french naval officer, to whom the command had been offered as a compliment to france. unfortunately the jack tars of america were not so anxious to compliment france, and looked with much disfavor upon the prospect of serving under a frenchman. capt. landais, therefore, found great difficulty in getting a crew to man his frigate; and when lafayette reached boston, ready to embark for france, the roster of the ship in which he was to sail was still painfully incomplete. great was the mortification of the american authorities; and the government of massachusetts, desiring to aid the distinguished frenchman in every way, offered to complete by impressment. it is vastly to the credit of lafayette that he refused for a moment to countenance a method of recruiting so entirely in opposition to those principles of liberty to which he was devoted. but, though impressment was not resorted to, a plan hardly less objectionable was adopted. the british man-of-war "somerset" had been wrecked on the new england coast some time before, and many of her crew were then in boston. these men volunteered to join the crew of the "alliance," though by so doing they knew that they were likely to be forced to fight against their own flag and countrymen. but the ties of nationality bear lightly upon sailors, and these men were as ready to fight under the stars and stripes as under the cross of st. george. with a crew made up of americans, englishmen, and frenchmen, the "alliance" put to sea in the early part of january, . it was the most stormy season of the year on the tempestuous atlantic. but the storms which racked the good ship from without were as nothing to the turbulence within. in the forecastle were three different elements of discord. british, french, and americans quarrelled bitterly among themselves, and the jackies went about their work with a sullen air that betokened trouble brewing. the officers suspected the impending trouble, but had little idea of its extent. they were living over a volcano which was liable to burst forth at any moment. the englishmen in the crew, who numbered some seventy or eighty, had determined to mutiny, and had perfected all their plans for the uprising. their intention was not only to seize the ship, and take her into an english port, but they proposed to wreak their hatred in the bloodiest form upon the officers. capt. landais, as the special object of their hate, was to be put into an open boat without food, water, oars, or sails. heavy irons were to bind his wrists and ankles, and he was to be set adrift to starve on the open ocean. the fate of the surgeon and marine officer was to be equally hard. they were to be hanged and quartered, and their bodies cast into the sea. the sailing-master was to be seized up to the mizzen-mast, stripped to the waist, and his back cut to pieces with the cat-of-nine-tails; after which he was to be slowly hacked to pieces with cutlasses, and thrown into the sea. the gunner, carpenter, and boatswain were to be mercifully treated. no torture was prepared for them, but they were to be promptly put to death. as to the lieutenants, they were to be given the choice between navigating the ship to the nearest british port, or walking the plank. this sanguinary programme the mutineers discussed day and night. the ringleaders were in the same watch, and in the silent hours of the night matured their plans, and picked out men whom they thought would join them. one by one they cautiously chose their associates. the sailor whom the mutineers thought was a safe man would be led quietly apart from his fellows to some secluded nook on the gun-deck; and there, with many pledges to secrecy, the plot would be revealed, and his assistance asked. or perhaps of two men out on the end of a tossing yard-arm, far above the raging waters, one would be a mutineer, and would take that opportunity to try to win his fellow sailor to the cause. so the mutiny spread apace; and the volcano was almost ready to burst forth, when all was discovered, and the plans of the mutineers were happily defeated. the conspirators had succeeded in gaining the support of all the englishmen in the crew, as well as many of the sailors of other nationalities. so numerous were their adherents, that they were well able to capture the ship; but before so doing they sought to gain one more recruit. this man was an american sailor, who had lived long in ireland, and spoke with a slight brogue, that led the conspirators to think him a subject of the king, and an enemy to the revolted colonies. this man was known to have some knowledge of navigation, and the mutineers felt that his assistance would be essential to the success of their plot. though they had planned to force the lieutenant, under penalty of death, to navigate the vessel into a british port, they had no means of telling whether the lieutenant should play them false. it would be an easy matter for an officer to take the ship into a french port, where the lives of the conspirators should pay the penalty of their misdeeds. accordingly, it was highly important for them to number among them some one versed in the science of navigation; and, with this end in view, they turned to the young irish-american. the young seaman proved to be possessed of the loyalty and shrewdness of the yankee, together with a touch of the blarney of the genuine irishman. he listened to the complaints of the mutineers, sympathized with their grievances, entered heartily into their plans, and by his apparent interest in the conspiracy soon became looked upon as one of the chief ringleaders. he learned that the plan of the conspirators was to assemble on deck about daylight on a certain day when one of the conspirators should be posted in the tops as lookout. this man was to raise the cry of "sail, ho!" when the officers and passengers would of course come to the quarter-deck unarmed. the mutineers would commence operations by seizing them in a body. then, separating into four parties, the conspirators would seize upon the ship. on the forecastle were mounted four nine-pound guns. these were usually kept charged with blank cartridge only; but a gunner's mate, who was one of the ringleaders, had quietly slipped a charge of canister into each gun. should the officers show signs of resistance, these cannon were to be trained aft, and the quarter-deck swept by their discharge. discipline on a man-of-war requires that the crew should be kept disarmed, except in time of battle; the cutlasses, pikes, and pistols being given over to the armorer. but a sergeant of marines had done the cause of the mutineers good service, by purloining some muskets, and handing them over to the ringleaders. having thus gained full knowledge of the plans of the mutineers, the loyal seaman sought the first opportunity to warn the officers of the ship. but not until three o'clock on the afternoon before the day set for the mutiny could he manage to slip into the captain's cabin unseen by the conspirators. landais and lafayette were seated there talking. "well, what's wanted now?" asked the captain in the peremptory tone officers assume in speaking to a sailor. the intruder stammered and looked confused, but finally managed to tell the story. landais was amazed. that so dangerous a conspiracy should have been nurtured in his crew, astonished him beyond expression. but he wasted no time in vain conjectures. quietly the word was passed to the officers and passengers to assemble in the captain's cabin. some trusty petty officers were given arms to distribute among the american and french seamen who had not been infected with the fever of mutiny. at a given signal the officers and passengers rushed to the quarter-deck. the american and french seamen joined them; and the conspirators suddenly found themselves confronted by an angry body of determined men, fully armed. the leading mutineers were pointed out by the informer, instantly seized, and hurried below in irons. then the work of arresting the other conspirators began, and was continued until about forty of the english were in irons. while the work was progressing, a square-rigged ship hove in sight, and was soon made out to be one of the enemy's twenty-gun ships. under ordinary circumstances, the "alliance" would have sought to give battle to the enemy; but in the present instance, with mutiny rife among his crew, capt. landais thought it his wisest course to avoid the stranger. a few days later, the "alliance" arrived at brest, where the mutineers were thrown into jail, and kept in close confinement, until exchanged for american prisoners in the hands of the british. but to return to paul jones, whom we left with the "bon homme richard" lying at anchor in the harbor of l'orient waiting for the arrival of his allies. on the th of june, , all were ready to sail, and left the harbor with a few coasters and transports under convoy. the "bon homme richard" was the largest vessel of the little fleet; next came the "alliance," under command of capt. landais; then the "pallas," an old merchantman hastily remodelled, and mounting thirty-two guns; then the "cerf" with eighteen guns, and the "vengeance" with twelve. though not a very formidable armada, this little fleet might have done great good to the american cause, had paul jones been given proper authority, and had his daring plans been countenanced by the french authorities. but, though nominally commander-in-chief, jones soon found that he had no means of enforcing his authority. he found that the three frenchmen in command of the other vessels of the squadron looked upon him as a partner in the enterprise, rather than as a leader with absolute authority. they paid no heed to the signals set at the fore of the flag-ship. they wilfully disobeyed orders. worse than all, they proved to be poor seamen; and the squadron had hardly got into blue water before the "alliance" was run foul of the "richard," losing her own mizzen-mast, and tearing away the head and bowsprit of the flag-ship. thus, after long months of preparation for sea, jones found himself forced to return to port to refit. it has been charged that this accident was not altogether accidental, so far as the "alliance" was concerned. landais, the commander of that vessel, hated jones, and was insanely jealous of the man who outranked him. the collision was only the first of a series of mishaps, all of which landais ascribed to accident, but which unprejudiced readers must confess seem to have been inspired by malice or the results of gross incompetence. a few days sufficed to repair all damage, and again the vessels sought the open sea. when two days out, a strange sail was sighted. jones crowded all sail on the "richard," and set out in hot pursuit, but found, to his bitter disappointment, that his ship was a wretchedly slow sailer. therefore, signalling to the swift-sailing "cerf" to follow the stranger, he abandoned the chase to the smaller craft. all night long the cutter followed in the wake of the stranger, and when day broke the two vessels were near enough to each other to readily make out each other's character. the stranger proved to be a small english cruiser of fourteen guns. her captain was no poltroon; for as soon as he discovered that the ship from which he had been trying to escape was but little larger than his own, he came about, and, running down upon the "cerf," opened fire. the action was a sharp one. the two vessels were fairly matched and well fought. the thunder of their broadsides resounded far and wide over the ocean. for an hour they grappled in deadly strife. the tide of battle turned now to one side, and now to the other. but at last the superior metal of the "cerf" won for her the victory. with her battered prize in tow, she sought to rejoin the squadron, but unluckily fell in with a british frigate that had been attracted by the sound of the cannonading. it was useless to think of saving the prize: so the "cerf" abandoned it, and after a hard chase escaped, and put into the harbor of l'orient. in the mean time, the squadron had become separated; and, after a fortnight's fruitless cruising, all the vessels returned to l'orient. here they lay until the middle of august. more than three months had passed since jones had been given command of the "richard." most of the time had been spent in port. the little cruising that had been done had been unproductive of results. dissension and jealousy made the squadron absolutely ineffective. as for the "bon homme richard," she had proved a failure; being unable to overhaul the enemy that she wished to engage, or escape from the man-of-war she might wish to avoid. jones saw his reputation fast slipping away from him. bitterly he bewailed the fate that had put him at the mercy of a lot of quarrelsome frenchmen. he determined that when once again he got to sea he would ignore his consorts, and fight the battles of his country with his own ship only. it was on the th of august that the squadron weighed anchor, and left the harbor of l'orient. the "richard" was greatly strengthened by the addition to her crew of about one hundred american seamen, who had been sent to france from england in exchange for a number of english prisoners. with her sailed the same vessels that had previously made up the squadron, together with two french privateers,--the "monsieur" and the "granville." four days after sailing, a large french ship in charge of a british prize-crew was sighted. the whole squadron gave chase; and the "monsieur," being the swiftest sailer of the fleet, recaptured the prize. then arose a quarrel. the privateersmen claimed that the prize was theirs alone. they had captured it, and the regular naval officers had no authority over them. to this capt. jones vigorously demurred, and, taking the prize from its captors, sent it to l'orient to be disposed of in accordance with the laws. in high dudgeon, the privateers vowed vengeance, and that night the "monsieur" left the squadron. she was a fine, fast vessel, mounting forty guns; and her departure greatly weakened the fleet. a few days later a second serious loss was encountered. the fleet was lying off cape clear, only a few miles from the shore. the day was perfectly calm. not a breath of wind ruffled the calm surface of the water. the sails flapped idly against the mast. the sailors lay about the decks, trying to keep cool, and lazily watching the distant shore. far off in the distance a white sail glimmered on the horizon. it showed no sign of motion, and was clearly becalmed. after some deliberation, capt. jones determined to attempt to capture the stranger by means of boats. the two largest boats, manned with crews of picked men, were sent out to hail the vessel, and, if she proved to be an enemy, to capture her. in this they were successful, and returned next day, bringing the captured craft. but, while the two boats were still out after the enemy's ship, the tide changed; and capt. jones soon saw that his ship was in danger from a powerful current, that seemed to be sweeping her on shore. a few hundred yards from the ship, two dangerous reefs, known as the skallocks and the blasketts, reared their black heads above the calm surface of the sea. toward these rocks the "bon homme richard" was drifting, when jones, seeing the danger, ordered out two boats to tow the ship to a less perilous position. as the best men of the crew had been sent away to capture the brig, the crews of the two boats were made up of the riff-raff of the crew. many of them were englishmen, mere mercenary sailors, who had shipped on the richard, secretly intending to desert at the first opportunity. therefore, when night fell, as they were still in the boats trying to pull the "richard's" head around, they cut the ropes and made off for the shore. the desertion was discovered immediately. the night was clear, and by the faint light of the stars the course of the receding boats could be traced. the sailing-master of the "richard," a mr. trent, being the first to discover the treachery, sprang into a boat with a few armed men, and set out in hot pursuit. the bow-gun of the "richard" was hastily trained on the deserters, and a few cannon-shot sent after them; but without effect. before the pursuing boat could overhaul the fugitives, a dense bank of gray fog settled over the water, and pursued and pursuers were hidden from each other and from the gaze of those on the man-of-war. all night long the fog, like a moist, impenetrable curtain, rested on the ocean. the next day the "cerf" set out to find the missing boats. as she neared the shore, to avoid raising an alarm, she hoisted british colors. hardly had she done so when she was seen by trent and his companions. the fog made the outlines of the cutter indistinct, and magnified her in the eyes of the americans, so that they mistook her for an english man-of-war. to avoid what they thought would lead to certain capture on the water, they ran their boat ashore, and speedily fell into the hands of the british coast guard. they were at once thrown into prison, where the unfortunate trent soon died. the rest of the party were exchanged later in the war. the loss of the boats, and capture of mr. trent and his followers, were not the only unfortunate results of this incident; for the "cerf" became lost in the fog, and before she could rejoin the fleet a violent gale sprang up, and she was carried back to the coast of france. she never again returned to join the fleet, and jones found his force again, depleted. but the effective force of the squadron under the command of paul jones was weakened far more by the eccentric and mutinous actions of capt. landais of the "alliance" than by any losses by desertion or capture. when the news of the loss of two boats by desertion reached the "alliance," landais straightway went to the "richard," and entering the cabin began to upbraid jones in unmeasured terms for having lost two boats through his folly in sending boats to capture a brig. "it is not true, capt. landais," answered jones, "that the boats which are lost are the two which were sent to capture the brig." "do you tell me i lie?" screamed the frenchman, white with anger. his officers strove to pacify him, but without avail; and he left the "richard" vowing that he would challenge capt. jones, and kill him. shortly thereafter the "richard" captured a very valuable prize,--a ship mounting twenty-two guns, and loaded with sails, rigging, anchors, cables, and other essential articles for the navy great britain was building on the lakes. by desertion and other causes, the crew of the "richard" was greatly depleted, and not enough men could be spared to man the prize. jones applied to landais for aid. in response the frenchman said,-- "if it is your wish that i should take charge of the prize, i shall not allow any boat or any individual from the 'bon homme richard' to go near her." to this absurd stipulation jones agreed. landais, having thus assumed complete charge of the prize, showed his incompetence by sending her, together with a prize taken by the "alliance," to bergen in norway. the danish government, being on friendly terms with england, immediately surrendered the vessels to the british ambassador; and the cause of the young republic was cheated of more than two hundred thousand dollars through the insane negligence of the french captain. ever thereafter, landais manifested the most insolent indifference to the orders of capt. jones, to whom, as his superior officer, he should render implicit obedience. he came and went as he saw fit. the "alliance" would disappear from the squadron, and return again after two or three days' absence, without apology or explanation. jones soon learned to look with indifference upon the antics of his consort, and considered his squadron as composed of the "richard," "vengeance," and "pallas" only. on the th of september, the three vessels lay off the port of leith, a thriving city, which was then, as now, the seaport for the greater city of edinburgh, which stands a little farther inland. jones had come to this point cherishing one of those daring plans of which his mind was so fertile. he had learned that the harbor was full of shipping, and defended only by a single armed vessel of twenty guns. shore batteries there were none. the people of the town were resting in fancied security, and had no idea that the dreaded paul jones was at their very harbor's mouth. it would have been an easy matter for the three cruisers to make a dash into the harbor, take some distinguished prisoners, demand a huge ransom, fire the shipping, and escape again to the open sea. had jones been in reality, as he was in name, the commander of the little fleet, the exploit would have been performed. but the lack of authority which had hampered him throughout his cruise paralyzed him here. by the time he had overcome the timid objections of the captains of the "vengeance" and the "pallas," all leith was aroused. still jones persevered. his arrangements were carefully perfected. troops were to be landed under command of lieut.-col. chamillard, who was to lay before the chief magistrate of the town the following letter, written by jones himself:-- "i do not wish to distress the poor inhabitants. my intention is only to demand your contribution toward the reimbursement which britain owes to the much injured citizens of america. savages would blush at the unmanly violation and rapacity that have marked the tracks of british tyranny in america, from which neither virgin innocence nor helpless age has been a plea of protection or pity. "leith and its port now lay at our mercy. and did not the plea of humanity stay the just hand of retaliation, i should without advertisement lay it in ashes. before i proceed to that stern duty as an officer, my duty as a man induces me to propose to you, by means of a reasonable ransom, to prevent such a scene of horror and distress. for this reason, i have authorized lieut.-col. de chamillard to agree with you on the terms of ransom, allowing you exactly half an hour's reflection before you finally accept or reject the terms which he shall propose." the landing parties having been chosen, the order of attack mapped out, and part to be taken by each boat's-crew accurately defined, the three vessels advanced to the attack. it was a bright sunday morning. a light breeze blowing on shore wafted the three vessels gently along the smooth surface of the bay. it is said that as the invaders passed the little town of kirkaldy, the people were at church, but, seeing the three men-of-war passing, deserted the sacred edifice for the beach, where the gray-haired pastor, surrounded by his flock, offered the following remarkable appeal to the deity:-- "now, dear lord, dinna ye think it a shame for ye to send this vile pirate to rob our folk o' kirkaldy? ye ken that they are puir enow already, and hae naething to spare. the way the wind blaws, he'll be here in a jiffy. and wha kens what he may do? he's nae too good for ony thing. mickles the mischief he has done already. he'll burn their hooses, take their very claes, and strip them to the very sark. and waes me, wha kens but that the bluidy villain might tak' their lives! the puir weemin are most frightened out of their wits, and the bairns screeching after them. i canna think of it! i canna think of it! "i hae long been a faithful servant to ye, o lord. but gin ye dinna turn the wind about, and blaw the scoundrel out of our gate, i'll nae stir a foot, but will just sit here till the tide comes. sae tak' your will o't." never was prayer more promptly answered. hardly had the pastor concluded his prayer, when the wind veered round, and soon a violent gale was blowing off shore. in the teeth of the wind, the ships could make no headway. the gale increased in violence until it rivalled in fierceness a tornado. the sea was lashed into fury, and great waves arose, on the crests of which the men-of-war were tossed about like fragile shells. the coal-ship which had been captured was so racked and torn by the heavy seas, that her seams opened, and she foundered so speedily, that only by the most active efforts was her crew saved. after several hours' ineffectual battling with the gale, the ships were forced to come about and run out to sea; and jones suffered the mortification of witnessing the failure of his enterprise, after having been within gunshot of the town that he had hoped to capture. as for the good people of kirkaldy, they were convinced that their escape from the daring seamen was wholly due to the personal influence of their pastor with the deity; and the worthy parson lived long afterward, ever held in the most mighty veneration by the people of his flock. chapter ix. career of paul jones concluded. -- the battle between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis." -- treachery of landais. -- jones's great victory. -- landais steals the "alliance." -- jones in command of the "ariel." -- the "ariel" in the storm. -- arrival in america. after this adventure, the three vessels continued their cruise along the eastern coast of scotland. continued good fortune, in the way of prizes, rather soothed the somewhat chafed feelings of capt. jones, and he soon recovered from the severe disappointment caused by the failure of his attack upon leith. he found good reason to believe that the report of his exploits had spread far and wide in england, and that british sea-captains were using every precaution to avoid encountering him. british vessels manifested an extreme disinclination to come within hailing distance of any of the cruisers, although all three were so disguised that it seemed impossible to make out their warlike character. one fleet of merchantmen that caught sight of the "bon homme richard" and the "pallas" ran into the river humber, to the mouth of which they were pursued by the two men-of-war. lying at anchor outside the bar, jones made signal for a pilot, keeping the british flag flying at his peak. two pilot-boats came out; and jones, assuming the character of a british naval officer, learned from them, that besides the merchantmen lying at anchor in the river, a british frigate lay there waiting to convoy a fleet of merchantmen to the north. jones tried to lure the frigate out with a signal that the pilots revealed to him; but, though she weighed anchor, she was driven back by strong head-winds that were blowing. disappointed in this plan, jones continued his cruise. soon after he fell in with the "alliance" and the "vengeance;" and, while off flamborough head, the little squadron encountered a fleet of forty-one merchant ships, that, at the sight of the dreaded yankee cruisers, crowded together like a flock of frightened pigeons, and made all sail for the shore; while two stately men-of-war--the "serapis, forty-four," and the "countess of scarborough, twenty-two"--moved forward to give battle to the americans. jones now stood upon the threshold of his greatest victory. his bold and chivalric mind had longed for battle, and recoiled from the less glorious pursuit of burning helpless merchantmen, and terrorizing small towns and villages. he now saw before him a chance to meet the enemy in a fair fight, muzzle to muzzle, and with no overpowering odds on either side. although the americans had six vessels to the englishmen's two, the odds were in no wise in their favor. two of the vessels were pilot-boats, which, of course, kept out of the battle. the "vengeance," though ordered to render the larger vessels any possible assistance, kept out of the fight altogether, and even neglected to make any attempt to overhaul the flying band of merchantmen. as for the "alliance," under the erratic landais, she only entered the conflict at the last moment; and then her broadsides, instead of being delivered into the enemy, crashed through the already shattered sides of the "bon homme richard." thus the actual combatants were the "richard" with forty guns, against the "serapis" with forty-four; and the "pallas" with twenty-two guns, against the "countess of scarborough" with twenty-two. it was about seven o'clock in the evening of a clear september day--the twenty-third--that the hostile vessels bore down upon each other, making rapid preparations for the impending battle. the sea was fast turning gray, as the deepening twilight robbed the sky of its azure hue. a brisk breeze was blowing, that filled out the bellying sails of the ships, and beat the waters into little waves capped with snowy foam. in the west the rosy tints of the autumnal sunset were still warm in the sky. nature was in one of her most smiling moods, as these men with set faces, and hearts throbbing with the mingled emotions of fear and excitement, stood silent at their guns, or worked busily at the ropes of the great war-ships. as soon as he became convinced of the character of the two english ships, jones beat his crew to quarters, and signalled his consorts to form in line of battle. the people on the "richard" went cheerfully to their guns; and though the ship was extremely short-handed, and crowded with prisoners, no voice was raised against giving immediate battle to the enemy. the actions of the other vessels of the american fleet, however, gave little promise of any aid from that quarter. when the enemy was first sighted, the swift-sailing "alliance" dashed forward to reconnoitre. as she passed the "pallas," landais cried out, that, if the stranger proved to be a forty-four, the only course for the americans was immediate flight. evidently the result of his investigations convinced him that in flight lay his only hope of safety; for he quickly hauled off, and stood away from the enemy. the "vengeance," too, ran off to windward, leaving the "richard" and the "pallas" to bear the brunt of battle. it was by this time quite dark, and the position of the ships was outlined by the rows of open port-holes gleaming with the lurid light of the battle-lanterns. on each ship rested a stillness like that of death itself. the men stood at their guns silent and thoughtful. sweet memories of home and loved ones mingled with fearful anticipations of death or of mangling wounds in the minds of each. the little lads whose duty in time of action it was to carry cartridges from the magazine to the gunners had ceased their boyish chatter, and stood nervously at their stations. officers walked up and down the decks, speaking words of encouragement to the men, glancing sharply at primers and breechings to see that all was ready, and ever and anon stooping to peer through the porthole at the line of slowly moving lights that told of the approach of the enemy. on the quarter-deck, paul jones, with his officers about him, stood carefully watching the movements of the enemy through a night glass, giving occasionally a quiet order to the man at the wheel, and now and then sending an agile midshipman below with orders to the armorer, or aloft with orders for the sharp-shooters posted in the tops. as the night came on, the wind died away to a gentle breeze, that hardly ruffled the surface of the water, and urged the ships toward each other but sluggishly. as they came within pistol-shot of each other, bow to bow, and going on opposite tacks, a hoarse cry came from the deck of the "serapis,"-- "what ship is that?" "what is that you say?" "what ship is that? answer immediately, or i shall fire into you." instantly with a flash and roar both vessels opened fire. the thunder of the broadsides reverberated over the waters; and the bright flash of the cannon, together with the pale light of the moon just rising, showed flamborough head crowded with multitudes who had come out to witness the grand yet awful spectacle of a naval duel. the very first broadside seemed enough to wreck the fortunes of the "richard." in her gun-room were mounted six long eighteens, the only guns she carried that were of sufficient weight to be matched against the heavy ordnance of the "serapis." at the very first discharge, two of these guns burst with frightful violence. huge masses of iron were hurled in every direction, cutting through beams and stanchions, crashing through floors and bulkheads, and tearing through the agonized bodies of the men who served the guns. hardly a man who was stationed in the gun-room escaped unhurt in the storm of iron and splinters. several huge blocks of iron crashed through the upper deck, injuring the people on the deck above, and causing the cry to be raised, that the magazine had blown up. this unhappy calamity not only rendered useless the whole battery of eighteen-pounders, thus forcing jones to fight an eighteen-pounder frigate with a twelve-pounder battery, but it spread a panic among the men, who saw the dangers of explosion added to the peril they were in by reason of the enemy's continued fire. jones himself left the quarter-deck, and rushed forward among the men, cheering them on, and arousing them to renewed activity by his exertions. now he would lend a hand at training some gun, now pull at a rope, or help a lagging powder-monkey on his way. his pluck and enthusiasm infused new life into the men; and they threw the heavy guns about like playthings, and cheered loudly as each shot told. the two ships were at no time separated by a greater distance than half a pistol-shot, and were continually manoeuvring to cross each others' bows, and get in a raking broadside. in this attempt, they crossed from one to the other side of each other; so that now the port and now the starboard battery would be engaged. from the shore these evolutions were concealed under a dense cloud of smoke, and the spectators could only see the tops of the two vessels moving slowly about before the light breeze; while the lurid flashes of the cannon, and constant thunder of the broadsides, told of the deadly work going on. at a little distance were the "countess of scarborough" and the "pallas," linked in deadly combat, and adding the roar of their cannon to the general turmoil. it seemed to the watchers on the heights that war was coming very close to england. the "serapis" first succeeded in getting a raking position; and, as she slowly crossed her antagonist's bow, her guns were fired, loaded again, and again discharged,--the heavy bolts crashing into the "richard's" bow, and ranging aft, tearing the flesh of the brave fellows on the decks, and cutting through timbers and cordage in their frightful course. at this moment, the americans almost despaired of the termination of the conflict. the "richard" proved to be old and rotten, and the enemy's shot seemed to tear her timbers to pieces; while the "serapis" was new, with timbers that withstood the shock of the balls like steel armor. jones saw that in a battle with great guns he was sure to be the loser. he therefore resolved to board. soon the "richard" made an attempt to cross the bows of the "serapis," but not having way enough failed; and the "serapis" ran foul of her, with her long bowsprit projecting over the stern of the american ship. springing from the quarter-deck, jones with his own hands swung grappling-irons into the rigging of the enemy, and made the ships fast. as he bent to his work, he was a prominent target for every sharp-shooter on the british vessel, and the bullets hummed thickly about his ears; but he never flinched. his work done, he clambered back to the quarter-deck, and set about gathering the boarders. the two vessels swung alongside each other. the cannonading was redoubled, and the heavy ordnance of the "serapis" told fearfully upon the "richard." the american gunners were driven from their guns by the flying cloud of shot and splinters. each party thought the other was about to board. the darkness and the smoke made all vision impossible; and the boarders on each vessel were crouched behind the bulwarks, ready to give a hot reception to their enemies. this suspense caused a temporary lull in the firing, and capt. pearson of the "serapis" shouted out through the sulphurous blackness,-- "have you struck your colors?" "i have not yet begun to fight," replied jones; and again the thunder of the cannon awakened the echoes on the distant shore. as the firing recommenced, the two ships broke away and drifted apart. again the "serapis" sought to get a raking position; but by this time jones had determined that his only hope lay in boarding. terrible had been the execution on his ship. the cock-pit was filled with the wounded. the mangled remains of the dead lay thick about the decks. the timbers of the ship were greatly shattered, and her cordage was so badly cut that skilful manoeuvring was impossible. many shot-holes were beneath the water-line, and the hold was rapidly filling. therefore, jones determined to run down his enemy, and get out his boarders, at any cost. soon the two vessels were foul again. capt. pearson, knowing that his advantage lay in long-distance fighting, strove to break away. jones bent all his energies to the task of keeping the ships together. meantime the battle raged fiercely. jones himself, in his official report of the battle, thus describes the course of the fight:-- "i directed the fire of one of the three cannon against the main-mast with double-headed shot, while the other two were exceedingly well served with grape and canister shot, to silence the enemy's musketry, and clear her decks, which was at last effected. the enemy were, as i have since understood, on the instant for calling for quarter, when the cowardice or treachery of three of my under officers induced them to call to the enemy. the english commodore asked me if i demanded quarter; and i having answered him in the negative, they renewed the battle with double fury. they were unable to stand the deck; but the fury of their cannon, especially the lower battery, which was entirely formed of eighteen-pounders, was incessant. both ships were set on fire in various places, and the scene was dreadful beyond the reach of language. to account for the timidity of my three under officers (i mean the gunner, the carpenter, and the master-at-arms), i must observe that the two first were slightly wounded; and as the ship had received various shots under water, and one of the pumps being shot away, the carpenter expressed his fear that she would sink, and the other two concluded that she was sinking, which occasioned the gunner to run aft on the poop, without my knowledge, to strike the colors. fortunately for me a cannon-ball had done that before by carrying away the ensign staff: he was, therefore, reduced to the necessity of sinking--as he supposed--or of calling for quarter; and he preferred the latter." indeed, the petty officers were little to be blamed for considering the condition of the "richard" hopeless. the great guns of the "serapis," with their muzzles not twenty feet away, were hurling solid shot and grape through the flimsy shell of the american ship. so close together did the two ships come at times, that the rammers were sometimes thrust into the port-holes of the opposite ship in loading. when the ships first swung together, the lower ports of the "serapis" were closed to prevent the americans boarding through them. but in the heat of the conflict the ports were quickly blown off, and the iron throats of the great guns again protruded, and dealt out their messages of death. how frightful was the scene! in the two great ships were more than seven hundred men, their eyes lighted with the fire of hatred, their faces blackened with powder or made ghastly by streaks of blood. cries of pain, yells of rage, prayers, and curses rose shrill above the thunderous monotone of the cannonade. both ships were on fire; and the black smoke of the conflagration, mingled with the gray gunpowder smoke, and lighted up by the red flashes of the cannonade, added to the terrible picturesqueness of the scene. the "richard" seemed like a spectre ship, so shattered was her framework. from the main-mast to the stern post, her timbers above the water-line were shot away, a few blackened posts alone preventing the upper deck from falling. through this ruined shell swept the shot of the "serapis," finding little to impede their flight save human flesh and bone. great streams of water were pouring into the hold. the pitiful cries of nearly two hundred prisoners aroused the compassion of an officer, who ran below and liberated them. driven from the hold by the inpouring water, these unhappy men ran to the deck, only to be swept down by the storm of cannon-shot and bullets. fire, too, encompassed them; and the flames were so fast sweeping down upon the magazine, that capt. jones ordered the powder-kegs to be brought up and thrown into the sea. at this work, and at the pumps, the prisoners were kept employed until the end of the action. but though the heavy guns of the "serapis" had it all their own way below, shattering the hull of the "richard," and driving the yankee gunners from their quarters, the conflict, viewed from the tops, was not so one-sided. the americans crowded on the forecastle and in the tops, where they continued the battle with musketry and hand-grenades, with such murderous effect that the british were driven entirely from the upper deck. once a party of about one hundred picked men, mustered below by capt. pearson, rushed to the upper deck of the "serapis," and thence made a descent upon the deck of the "richard," firing pistols, brandishing cutlasses, and yelling like demons. but the yankee tars were ready for them at that game, and gave the boarders so spirited a reception with pikes and cutlasses, that they were ready enough to swarm over the bulwarks, and seek again the comparative safety of their own ship. but all this time, though the americans were making a brave and desperate defence, the tide of battle was surely going against them though they held the deck of the "richard" secure against all comers, yet the englishmen were cutting the ship away from beneath them, with continued heavy broadsides. suddenly the course of battle was changed, and victory took her stand with the americans, all through the daring and coolness of one man,--no officer, but an humble jacky. the rapid and accurate fire of the sharp-shooters on the "richard" had driven all the riflemen of the "serapis" from their posts in the tops. seeing this, the americans swarmed into the rigging of their own ship, and from that elevated station poured down a destructive fire of hand-grenades upon the decks of the enemy. the sailors on the deck of the "richard" seconded this attack, by throwing the same missiles through the open ports of the enemy. at last one american topman, filling a bucket with grenades, and hanging it on his left arm, clambered out on the yard-arm of the "richard," that stretched far out over the deck of the british ship. cautiously the brave fellow crept out on the slender spar. his comrades below watched his progress, while the sharp-shooters kept a wary eye on the enemy, lest some watchful rifleman should pick off the adventurous blue-jacket. little by little the nimble sailor crept out on the yard, until he was over the crowded gun-deck of the "serapis." then, lying at full length on the spar, and somewhat protected by it, he began to shower his missiles upon the enemy's gun-deck. great was the execution done by each grenade; but at last, one better aimed than the rest fell through the main hatch to the main deck. there was a flash, then a succession of quick explosions; a great sheet of flame gushed up through the hatchway, and a chorus of cries told of some frightful tragedy enacted below. it seemed that the powder-boys of the "serapis" had been too active in bringing powder to the guns, and, instead of bringing cartridges as needed, had kept one charge in advance of the demand; so that behind every gun stood a cartridge, making a line of cartridges on the deck from bow to stern. several cartridges had been broken, so that much loose powder lay upon the deck. this was fired by the discharge of the hand-grenade, and communicated the fire to the cartridges, which exploded in rapid succession, horribly burning scores of men. more than twenty men were killed instantly; and so great was the flame and the force of the explosion, that many of them were left with nothing on but the collars and wristbands of their shirts and the waistbands of their trousers. it is impossible to conceive of the horror of the sight. capt. pearson in his official report of the battle, speaking of this occurrence, says, "a hand-grenade being thrown in at one of the lower ports, a cartridge of powder was set on fire, the flames of which, running from cartridge to cartridge all the way aft, blew up the whole of the people and officers that were quartered abaft the main-mast; from which unfortunate circumstance those guns were rendered useless for the remainder of the action, and i fear that the greater part of the people will lose their lives." this event changed the current of the battle. the english were hemmed between decks by the fire of the american topmen, and they found that not even then were they protected from the fiery hail of hand-grenades. the continual pounding of double-headed shot from a gun which jones had trained upon the main-mast of the enemy had finally cut away that spar; and it fell with a crash upon the deck, bringing down spars and rigging with it. flames were rising from the tarred cordage, and spreading to the framework of the ship. the americans saw victory within their grasp. but at this moment a new and most unsuspected enemy appeared upon the scene. the "alliance," which had stood aloof during the heat of the conflict, now appeared, and, after firing a few shots into the "serapis," ranged slowly down along the "richard," pouring a murderous fire of grape-shot into the already shattered ship. jones thus tells the story of this treacherous and wanton assault:-- "i now thought that the battle was at an end. but, to my utter astonishment, he discharged a broadside full into the stern of the 'bon homme richard.' we called to him for god's sake to forbear. yet he passed along the off-side of the ship, and continued firing. there was no possibility of his mistaking the enemy's ship for the 'bon homme richard,' there being the most essential difference in their appearance and construction. besides, it was then full moonlight; and the sides of the 'bon homme richard' were all black, and the sides of the enemy's ship were yellow. yet, for the greater security, i showed the signal for our reconnoissance, by putting out three lanterns,--one at the bow, one at the stern, and one at the middle, in a horizontal line. "every one cried that he was firing into the wrong ship, but nothing availed. he passed around, firing into the 'bon homme richard,' head, stern, and broadside, and by one of his volleys killed several of my best men, and mortally wounded a good officer of the forecastle. my situation was truly deplorable. the 'bon homme richard' received several shots under the water from the 'alliance.' the leak gained on the pumps, and the fire increased much on board both ships. some officers entreated me to strike, of whose courage and sense i entertain a high opinion. i would not, however, give up the point." fortunately landais did not persist in his cowardly attack upon his friends in the almost sinking ship, but sailed off, and allowed the "richard" to continue her life-and-death struggle with her enemy. the struggle was not now of long duration; for capt. pearson, seeing that his ship was a perfect wreck, and that the fire was gaining head way, hauled down his colors with his own hands, since none of his men could be persuaded to brave the fire from the tops of the "richard." as the proud emblem of great britain fluttered down, lieut. richard dale turned to capt. jones, and asked permission to board the prize. receiving an affirmative answer, he jumped on the gunwale, seized the mainbrace-pendant, and swung himself upon the quarter-deck of the captured ship. midshipman mayrant, with a large party of sailors, followed. so great was the confusion on the "serapis," that few of the englishmen knew that the ship had been surrendered. as mayrant came aboard, he was mistaken for the leader of a boarding-party, and run through the thigh with a pike. capt. pearson was found standing alone upon the quarter-deck, contemplating with a sad face the shattered condition of his once noble ship, and the dead bodies of his brave fellows lying about the decks. stepping up to him, lieut. dale said,-- "sir, i have orders to send you on board the ship alongside." at this moment, the first lieutenant of the "serapis" came up hastily, and inquired,-- "has the enemy struck her flag?" "no, sir," answered dale. "on the contrary, you have struck to us." turning quickly to his commander, the english lieutenant asked,-- "have you struck, sir?" "yes, i have," was the brief reply. "i have nothing more to say," remarked the officer, and turning about was in the act of going below, when lieut. dale stopped him, saying,-- "it is my duty to request you, sir, to accompany capt. pearson on board the ship alongside." "if you will first permit me to go below," responded the other, "i will silence the firing of the lower deck guns." "this cannot be permitted," was the response; and, silently bowing his head, the lieutenant followed his chief to the victorious ship, while two midshipmen went below to stop the firing. lieut. dale remained in command of the "serapis." seating himself on the binnacle, he ordered the lashings which had bound the two ships throughout the bloody conflict to be cut. then the head-sails were braced back, and the wheel put down. but, as the ship had been anchored at the beginning of the battle, she refused to answer either helm or canvas. vastly astounded at this, dale leaped from the binnacle; but his legs refused to support him, and he fell heavily to the deck. his followers sprang to his aid; and it was found that the lieutenant had been severely wounded in the leg by a splinter, but had fought out the battle without ever noticing his hurt. so ended this memorable battle. but the feelings of pride and exultation so natural to a victor died away in the breast of the american captain as he looked about the scene of wreck and carnage. on all sides lay the mutilated bodies of the gallant fellows who had so bravely stood to their guns amid the storm of death-dealing missiles. there they lay, piled one on top of the other,--some with their agonized writhings caught and fixed by death; others calm and peaceful, as though sleeping. powder-boys, young and tender, lay by the side of grizzled old seamen. words cannot picture the scene. in his journal capt. jones wrote:-- "a person must have been an eye-witness to form a just idea of the tremendous scene of carnage, wreck, and ruin that everywhere appeared. humanity cannot but recoil from the prospect of such finished horror, and lament that war should produce such fatal consequences." but worse than the appearance of the main deck was the scene in the cock-pit and along the gun-deck, which had been converted into a temporary hospital. here lay the wounded, ranged in rows along the deck. moans and shrieks of agony were heard on every side. the surgeons were busy with their glittering instruments. the tramp of men on the decks overhead, and the creaking of the timbers of the water-logged ship, added to the cries of the wounded, made a perfect bedlam of the place. [illustration: the action between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis," september , .] it did not take long to discover that the "bon homme richard" was a complete wreck, and in a sinking condition. the gallant old craft had kept afloat while the battle was being fought; but now, that the victory had remained with her, she had given up the struggle against the steadily encroaching waves. the carpenters who had explored the hold came on deck with long faces, and reported that nothing could be done to stop the great holes made by the shot of the "serapis." therefore jones determined to remove his crew and all the wounded to the "serapis," and abandon the noble "richard" to her fate. accordingly, all available hands were put at the pumps, and the work of transferring the wounded was begun. slings were rigged over the side; and the poor shattered bodies were gently lowered into the boats awaiting them, and, on reaching the "serapis," were placed tenderly in cots ranged along the main deck. all night the work went on; and by ten o'clock the next morning there were left on the "richard" only a few sailors, who alternately worked at the pumps, and fought the steadily encroaching flames. for jones did not intend to desert the good old ship without a struggle to save her, even though both fire and water were warring against her. not until the morning dawned did the americans fully appreciate how shattered was the hulk that stood between them and a watery grave. fenimore cooper, the pioneer historian of the united states navy, writes:-- "when the day dawned, an examination was made into the situation of the 'richard.' abaft on a line with those guns of the 'serapis' that had not been disabled by the explosion, the timbers were found to be nearly all beaten in, or beaten out,--for in this respect there was little difference between the two sides of the ship,--and it was said that her poop and upper decks would have fallen into the gun-room, but for a few buttocks that had been missed. indeed, so large was the vacuum, that most of the shot fired from this part of the 'serapis,' at the close of the action, must have gone through the 'richard' without touching any thing. the rudder was cut from the stern post, and the transoms were nearly driven out of her. all the after-part of the ship, in particular, that was below the quarter-deck was torn to pieces; and nothing had saved those stationed on the quarter-deck but the impossibility of sufficiently elevating guns that almost touched their object." despite the terribly shattered condition of the ship, her crew worked manfully to save her. but, after fighting the flames and working the pumps all day, they were reluctantly forced to abandon the good ship to her fate. it was nine o'clock at night, that the hopelessness of the task became evident. the "richard" rolled heavily from side to side. the sea was up to her lower port-holes. at each roll the water gushed through her port-holes, and swashed through the hatchways. at ten o'clock, with a last dying surge, the shattered hulk plunged to her final resting-place, carrying with her the bodies of her dead. they had died the noblest of all deaths,--the death of a patriot killed in doing battle for his country. they receive the grandest of all burials,--the burial of a sailor who follows his ship to her grave, on the hard, white sand, in the calm depths of the ocean. how many were there that went down with the ship? history does not accurately state. capt. jones himself was never able to tell how great was the number of dead upon his ship. the most careful estimate puts the number at forty-two. of the wounded on the american ship, there were about forty. all these were happily removed from the "richard" before she sunk. on the "serapis" the loss was much greater; but here, too, history is at fault, in that no official returns of the killed and wounded have been preserved. capt. jones's estimate, which is probably nearly correct, put the loss of the english ship at about a hundred killed, and an equal number wounded. the sinking of the "richard" left the "serapis" crowded with wounded of both nations, prisoners, and the remnant of the crew of the sunken ship. no time was lost in getting the ship in navigable shape, and in clearing away the traces of the battle. the bodies of the dead were thrown overboard. the decks were scrubbed and sprinkled with hot vinegar. the sound of the hammer and the saw was heard on every hand, as the carpenters stopped the leaks, patched the deck, and rigged new spars in place of those shattered by the "richard's" fire. all three of the masts had gone by the board. jury masts were rigged; and with small sails stretched on these the ship beat about the ocean, the plaything of the winds. her consorts had left her. landais, seeing no chance to rob jones of the honor of the victory, had taken the "alliance" to other waters. the "pallas" had been victorious in her contest with the "countess of scarborough;" and, as soon as the issue of the conflict between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis" had become evident, she made off with her prize, intent upon gaining a friendly port. the "richard," after ten days of drifting, finally ran into texel, in the north of holland. the next year was one of comparative inactivity for jones. he enjoyed for a time the praise of all friends of the revolting colonies. he was the lion of paris. then came the investigation into the action of landais at the time of the great battle. though his course at that time was one of open treachery, inspired by his wish to have jones strike to the "serapis," that he might have the honor of capturing both ships, landais escaped any punishment at the hands of his french compatriots. but he was relieved of the command of the "alliance," which was given to jones. highly incensed at this action, the erratic frenchman incited the crew of the "alliance" to open mutiny, and, taking command of the ship himself, left france and sailed for america, leaving commodore jones in the lurch. on his arrival at philadelphia, landais strove to justify his action by blackening the character of jones, but failed in this, and was dismissed the service. his actions should be regarded with some charity, for the man was doubtless of unsound mind. his insanity became even more evident after his dismissal from the navy; and from that time, until the time of his death, his eccentricities made him generally regarded as one mentally unsound. jones, having lost the "alliance" by the mutiny of landais, remained abroad, waiting for another ship. he travelled widely on the continent, and was lavishly entertained by the rich and noble of every nation. not until october, , did he again tread the deck of a vessel under his own command. the ship which the french government finally fitted out and put in command of paul jones was the "ariel," a small twenty-gun ship. this vessel the adventurous sailor packed full of powder and cannon-balls, taking only provisions enough for nine weeks, and evidently expecting to live off the prizes he calculated upon taking. he sailed from l'orient on a bright october afternoon, under clear skies, and with a fair wind, intending to proceed directly to the coast of america. but the first night out there arose a furious gale. the wind howled through the rigging, tore the sails from the ring-bolts, snapped the spars, and seriously wrecked the cordage of the vessel. the great waves, lashed into fury by the hurricane, smote against the sides of the little craft as though they would burst through her sheathing. the ship rolled heavily; and the yards, in their grand sweep from side to side, often plunged deep into the foaming waves. at last so great became the strain upon the vessel, that the crew were set to work with axes to cut away the foremast. balancing themselves upon the tossing, slippery deck, holding fast to a rope with one hand, while with the other they swung the axe, the gallant fellows finally cut so deep into the heart of the stout spar, that a heavy roll of the ship made it snap off short, and it fell alongside, where it hung by the cordage. the wreck was soon cleared away; and as this seemed to ease the ship somewhat, and as she was drifting about near the dreaded rock of penmarque, the anchors were got out. but in the mean time the violent rolling of the "ariel" had thrown the heel of the main-mast from the step; and the heavy mast was reeling about, threatening either to plough its way upward through the gun-deck, or to crash through the bottom of the ship. it was determined to cut away this mast; but, before this could be done, it fell, carrying with it the mizzen-mast, and crushing in the deck on which it fell. thus dismasted, the "ariel" rode out the gale. all night and all the next day she was tossed about on the angry waters. her crew thought that their last hour had surely come. over the shrieking of the gale, and the roaring of the waves, rose that steady, all-pervading sound, which brings horror to the mind of the sailor,--the dull, monotonous thunder of the breakers on the reef of penmarque. but the "ariel" was not fated to be ground to pieces on the jagged teeth of the cruel reef. though she drifted about, the plaything of the winds and the waves, she escaped the jaws of penmarque. finally the gale subsided; and, with hastily devised jury-masts, the shattered ship was taken back to l'orient to refit. two months were consumed in the work of getting the shattered vessel ready for sea. when she again set out, she met with no mishap, until, when near the american coast, she fell in with a british vessel to which she gave battle. a sharp action of a quarter of an hour forced the englishman to strike his colors; but, while the americans were preparing to board the prize, she sailed away, vastly to the chagrin and indignation of her would-be captors. the short cruise of the "ariel" was the last service rendered by paul jones to the american colonies. on his arrival at philadelphia, he was dined and fêted to his heart's desire; he received a vote of thanks from congress; he became the idol of the populace. but the necessities of the struggling colonies were such that they were unable to build for him a proper war-ship, and he remained inactive upon shore until the close of the revolution, when he went abroad, and took service with russia. he is the one great character in the naval history of the revolution. he is the first heroic figure in american naval annals. not until years after his death did men begin to know him at his true worth. he was too often looked upon as a man of no patriotism, but wholly mercenary; courageous, but only with the daring of a pirate. not until he had died a lonely death, estranged from the country he had so nobly served, did men come to know paul jones as a model naval officer, high-minded in his patriotism, pure in his life, elevated in his sentiments, and as courageous as a lion. chapter x. career of nicholas biddle. -- his exploit at lewiston jail. -- cruise in the "randolph." -- battle with the "yarmouth." -- the fatal explosion. -- samuel tucker. -- his boyhood. -- encounter with corsairs. -- cruising in the "franklin." -- in command of the "boston." -- anecdotes of capt. tucker. in the career of paul jones is to be found the record of the most stirring events of the revolution; but there were other commanders in the young american navy no less daring than he. as the chief naval representative of the colonies who cruised in european waters, jones achieved a notoriety somewhat out of proportion to his actual achievements. but other brave seamen did gallant service along the atlantic coast for the cause of the struggling nation, and, by their daring and nautical skill, did much to bring the war of the revolution to its happy conclusion. we abandoned our consideration of the general naval events of the war, to turn to a recountal of the exploits of paul jones at the close of the year . hostilities on the water during that year were confined to sharp, but short, actions between small men-of-war or privateers. the americans lacked the discipline and experience necessary to win for themselves any great reputation on the water. though they showed themselves full of dash and spirit, they were deficient in discipline and staying qualities. nevertheless, the record of the year was by no means discreditable to so young a naval organization. aside from the naval operations on the ocean, the year had seen the thick clouds of gunpowder-smoke floating across the placid surface of lake champlain, while the wooded hills that surrounded that lake and lake george more than once resounded with thunderous tones of cannon. the hostile meetings of the english and americans on the interior lakes are hardly to be classed as naval engagements. the vessels were chiefly gondolas and galleys, and many of their crews had never seen salt water. on the british side the forces were more considerable. in october, , the british had on lake champlain at least one full-rigged ship; and their schooners and galleys were all manned by trained sailors, drafted from men-of-war laid up in the st. lawrence. this force was under the command of capt. douglass of the frigate "isis." the americans, on the contrary, had manned their fleet with recruits from the army; and the forces were under the command of an army-officer, gen. benedict arnold, the story of whose later treachery is familiar to every american. it was late in october that the two hostile fleets met in deadly conflict, and a few short hours were enough to prove to the americans that they were greatly overmatched. such of their vessels as were not sunk were captured and burned by the enemy; while their crews escaped into the woods, and ultimately rejoined arnold's army, from which they had been drafted. we pass thus hastily over the so-called naval operations on lake champlain, because they were properly not naval operations at all, but merely incidents in the shore campaign. the fact that a few soldiers hastily build a small flotilla, and with it give battle to an enemy on the water, does not in any sense constitute a naval battle. the year witnessed many notable naval events. hostilities along the seaboard became more lively. new vessels were put into commission. england despatched a larger naval armament to crush her rebellious colonies. the records of the admiralty show, that at the beginning of that year parliament voted to the navy forty-five thousand men. the americans were able to array against this huge force only some four thousand, scattered upon thirteen small vessels-of-war. one of the first ships to get to sea in this year was the "randolph:" a new frigate commanded by nicholas biddle, who thus early in the war had won the confidence of the people and the naval authorities. in command of the little cruiser "andrea doria," biddle had cruised off the coast of newfoundland in . his success upon that cruise has already been noted. biddle was a man possessing to the fullest degree that primary qualification of a good naval officer,--an indomitable will. in illustration of his determination, a story is related concerning an incident that occurred just as the "andrea doria" had left the capes of the delaware. two of her crew had deserted, and, being apprehended by the authorities on shore, were lodged in lewiston jail. but the sheriff and his deputies found it easier to turn the key on the fugitive tars, than to keep them in control while they lay in durance vile. gathering all the benches, chairs, and tables that lay about the jail,--for the lockup of those days was not the trim affair of steel and iron seen to-day,--the unrepentant jackies built for themselves a barricade, and, snugly entrenched behind it, shouted out bold defiance to any and all who should come to take them. the jail authorities had committed the foolish error of neglecting to disarm the prisoners when they were captured; and, as each had a brace of ugly pistols in his belt, the position of the two behind their barricade was really one of considerable strength. the prison officials dared not attempt to dislodge the warlike tars. the militia company of the town was ordered to the scene, but even this body of soldiery dared not force the prison door. accordingly they determined to let time do the work, and starve the rogues out of their retreat. at this juncture capt. biddle came ashore. he had no intention of letting his trim ship lie idly in the offing while two mutinous blue-jackets were slowly starved into subjection. the "andrea doria" needed the men, and there must be no more delay. a captain in the american navy was not to be defied by two of his own people. therefore, seizing a loaded pistol in each hand, capt. biddle walked to the prison, accompanied only by a young midshipman. as the two pounded upon the heavy barred door, the crowd outside fell back, expecting the bullets to fly. "open this door, green," shouted biddle to one of the prisoners, whom he knew by name. "try to open it yourself," came the reply from within, with an accompanying oath. "the first man that shows his head inside this door gets a bullet." green was known as a bold, desperate man; but biddle did not hesitate a moment. ordering the bystanders to break down the door, he waited quietly, until a crash, and the sudden scattering of the crowd, gave notice that the way into the prison was clear. then gripping his pistols tightly, but with his arms hanging loosely at his sides, he advanced upon the deserters. behind the barricade stood green, his eyes blazing with rage, his pistol levelled. biddle faced him quietly. "now, green, if you don't take a good aim, you are a dead man," said he. with a muttered curse, the mutineer dropped his weapon. the cool determination of the captain awed him. in a few minutes he, with his companion, was on his way to the ship in irons. it was in february, , that the stanch new frigate "randolph," with biddle in command, set sail from philadelphia. hardly had she reached the high seas when a terrific gale set in, from which the "randolph" emerged, shorn of her tapering masts. as she lay a helpless wreck tossing on the waves, the hard work necessary to put her in decent shape again induced biddle to accede to the request of a number of british prisoners on board, who wished to be enrolled among the crew of the "randolph." this proved to be an unfortunate move; for the englishmen were no sooner enrolled on the ship's list than they began plotting mutiny, and the uprising reached such a stage that they assembled on the gun-deck, and gave three cheers. but the firm and determined stand of the captain and his officers overawed the mutineers, and they returned to their places after the ringleaders had been made to suffer at the gratings. but the spirit of disaffection rife amid his crew, and the crippled condition of his ship, determined biddle to proceed forthwith to charleston to refit. but a few days were spent in port. getting to sea again, the "randolph" fell in with the "true briton," a twenty-gun ship, flying the british colors. though the captain of the "true briton" had often boasted of what he would do should he encounter the "randolph," his courage then failed him, and he fled. the "randolph" gave chase, and, proving to be a speedy ship, soon overhauled the prize, which struck without waiting for a volley. three other vessels that had been cruising with the "true briton" were also captured, and with her rich prizes the "randolph" returned proudly to charleston. here her usefulness ceased for a time; for a superior force of british men-of-war appeared off the harbor, and by them the "randolph" was blockaded for the remainder of the season. early in biddle again took the sea with the "randolph," supported this time by four small vessels, fitted out by the south carolina authorities. they were the "gen. moultrie," eighteen guns; the "polly," sixteen; the "notre dame," sixteen; and the "fair american," sixteen. with this force capt. biddle set out in search of a british squadron known to be cruising thereabouts, and probably the same vessels that had kept him a prisoner during so much of the previous year. on the th of march, , the lookouts on the smaller vessels saw a signal thrown out from the masthead of the "randolph," which announced a sail in sight. chase was at once given; and by four o'clock she was near enough for the americans to see that she was a large ship, and apparently a man-of-war. about eight o'clock the stranger was near enough the squadron for them to make out that she was a heavy frigate. the englishman was not slow to suspect the character of the vessels with which he had fallen in, and firing a shot across the bows of the "moultrie," demanded her name. "the 'polly' of new york," was the response. leaving the "moultrie" unmolested, the stranger ranged up alongside the "randolph," and ordered her to show her colors. this biddle promptly did; and as the american flag went fluttering to the fore, the ports of the "randolph" were thrown open, and a broadside poured into the hull of the englishman. the stranger was not slow in replying, and the action became hot and deadly. capt. biddle was wounded in the thigh early in the battle. as he fell to the deck, his officers crowded about him, thinking that he was killed; but he encouraged them to return to their posts, and, ordering a chair to be placed on the quarter-deck, remained on deck, giving orders, and cheering on his men. it is said that capt. biddle was wounded by a shot from the "moultrie," which flew wide of its intended mark. for twenty minutes the battle raged, and there was no sign of weakening on the part of either contestant. suddenly the sound of the cannonade was deadened by a thunderous roar. the people on the other ships saw a huge column of fire and smoke rise where the "randolph" had floated. the english vessel was thrown violently on her beam-ends. the sky was darkened with flying timbers and splinters, which fell heavily into the sea. the "randolph" had blown up. a spark, a red-hot shot, some fiery object, had penetrated her magazine, and she was annihilated. the horrible accident which destroyed the "randolph" came near being the end of the "yarmouth," her antagonist. the two battling ships were close together; so close, in fact, that after the explosion capt. morgan of the "fair american" hailed the "yarmouth" to ask how capt. biddle was. the english ship was fairly covered with bits of the flying wreck. some heavy pieces of timber falling from the skies badly shattered her main-deck. an american ensign, closely rolled up, fell on her forecastle, not even singed by the fiery ordeal through which it had passed. the "yarmouth" wasted little time in wonder over the fate of her late antagonist. in all the mass of floating wreckage that covered the sea, there appeared to be no living thing. the four smaller american vessels, dismayed by the fate of their consort, were making good their escape. without more ado, the "yarmouth" set out in chase. four days later, the americans having escaped, the "yarmouth" was again cruising near the scene of the action. a raft was discovered on the ocean, which seemed to support some living creatures. running down upon it, four wretched, emaciated men were discovered clinging to a piece of wreckage, and wildly waving for assistance. they were taken aboard the british man-of-war, and given food and drink, of both of which they partook greedily; for their sole sustenance during the four days for which they clung to their frail raft was rain-water sucked from a piece of blanket. so died capt. nicholas biddle, blown to atoms by the explosion of his ship in the midst of battle. though but a young officer, not having completed his twenty-seventh year, he left an enduring name in the naval annals of his country. though his service was short, the fame he won was great. among the more notable commanders who did good service on the sea was capt. samuel tucker, who was put in command of the frigate "boston" in the latter part of the year . tucker was an old and tried seaman, and is furthermore one of the most picturesque figures in the naval history of the revolution. he first showed his love for the sea in the way that yankee boys from time immemorial have shown it,--by running away from home, and shipping as a cabin-boy. the ship which he chose was the british sloop-of-war "royal george," and the boy found himself face to face with the rigid naval discipline of the british service at that time. but he stuck manfully to the career he had chosen, and gradually mastered not only the details of a seaman's duty, but much of the art of navigation; so that when finally he got his discharge from the "royal george," he shipped as second mate on a salem merchantman. it was on his first voyage in this capacity that he first showed the mettle that was in him. two algerine corsairs, their decks crowded with men, their long low hulls cleaving the waves like dolphins, had given chase to the merchantman. the captain of the threatened ship grew faint-hearted: he sought courage in liquor, and soon became unable to manage his vessel. tucker took the helm. he saw that there was no chance of escape in flight, for the corsairs were too fleet. there was no hope of victory in a battle, for the pirates were too strong. but the trim new england schooner minded her helm better than her lanteen-rigged pursuers, and this fact tucker put to good account. putting his helm hard down, he headed the schooner directly for the piratical craft. by skilful manoeuvring, he secured such a position that either pirate, by firing upon him, was in danger of firing into his fellow corsair. this position he managed to maintain until nightfall, when he slipped away, and by daylight was snugly at anchor in the port of lisbon. for some time after this episode, the record of tucker's seafaring life is lost. certain it is that he served in the british navy as an officer for some time, and was master of a merchantman for several years. when the revolution broke out, samuel tucker was in london. being offered by a recruiting officer a commission in either the army or navy, if he would consent to serve "his gracious majesty," tucker very rashly responded, "hang his gracious majesty! do you think i would serve against my country?" soon a hue and cry was out for tucker. he was charged with treason, and fled into the country to the house of a tavern-keeper whom he knew, who sheltered him until he could make his escape from england. hardly had he arrived in america, when gen. washington commissioned him captain of the "franklin," and instructed him to proceed directly to sea. an express with the commission and instructions was hurried off to marblehead, then a straggling little city. he was instructed to find the "hon. samuel tucker," and to deliver to him the packets in his charge. when the messenger arrived, tucker was working in his yard. the messenger saw a rough-looking person, roughly clad, with a tarpaulin hat, and his neck bound with a flaming red bandanna handkerchief. never once thinking this person could be the man he sought, he leaned from his horse, and shouted out roughly,-- "i say, fellow, i wish you would tell me whether the hon. samuel tucker lives hereabouts." tucker looked up with a quizzical smile, and surveyed the speaker from under the wide rim of his tarpaulin, as he answered,-- "honorable, honorable! there's none of that name in marblehead. he must be one of the tuckers in salem. i'm the only samuel tucker here." "capt. glover told me he knew him," responded the messenger, "and described his house, gable-end on the seaside, none near it. faith, this looks like the very place!" with a laugh, tucker then confessed his identity, and asked the messenger his business. receiving the commission and instructions, he at once began his preparations for leaving home, and at daybreak the next morning was on his way to beverly, where lay anchored the first ship he was to command in the service of his country. in the "franklin" capt. tucker did some most efficient work. his name appears constantly in the letters of gen. washington, and in the state papers making up the american archives, as having sent in valuable prizes. at one time we read of the capture of "a brigantine from scotland, worth fifteen thousand pounds sterling;" again, of six gunboats, and of brigs laden with wine and fruit. during the year , he took not less than thirty--and probably a few more--ships, brigs, and smaller vessels. nor were all these vessels taken without some sharp fighting. of one battle tucker himself speaks in one of his letters. first telling how his wife made the colors for his ship, "the field of which was white, and the union was green, made of cloth of her own purchasing, and at her own expense," he goes on to write of one of his battles:-- "those colors i wore in honor of the country,--which has so nobly rewarded me for my past services,--and the love of their maker, until i fell in with col. archibald campbell in the ship "george," and brig "arabella," transports with about two hundred and eighty highland troops on board, of gen. frazer's corps. about ten p.m. a severe conflict ensued, which held about two hours and twenty minutes. i conquered them with great carnage on their side, it being in the night, and my small bark, about seventy tons burden, being very low in the water, i received no damage in loss of men, but lost a complete set of new by the passing of their balls; then the white field and pine-tree union were riddled to atoms. i was then immediately supplied with a new suit of sails, and a new suit of colors, made of canvas and bunting of my own prize-goods." another time, during the same year, tucker took two british ships near marblehead. so near was the scene of action to the house of capt. tucker, that his wife and her sister, hearing the sound of cannonading, ascended a high hill in the vicinity, and from that point viewed the action through a spy-glass. capt. tucker kept the sea in the "franklin" until late in the winter. when finally the cold weather and high winds forced him to put his ship out of commission, he went to his home at marblehead. he remained there but a short time; for in march, , he was put in command of the "boston," a frigate of twenty-four guns. in this vessel he cruised during the year with varying success. feb. , , capt. tucker was ordered to carry the hon. john adams to france, as envoy from the united states. the voyage was full of incidents. feeling impressed with the gravity of the charge laid upon him, capt. tucker chose a course which he hoped would enable him to steer clear of the horde of british men-of-war which then infested the american coast. but in so doing he fell in with a natural enemy, which came near proving fatal. a terrific thunderstorm, gradually growing into a tornado, crossed the path of the ship. the ocean was lashed into waves mountain high. the crash of the thunder rent the sky. a stroke of lightning struck the main-mast, and ripped up the deck, narrowly missing the magazine. the ship sprung a leak; and the grewsome sound of the pumps mingled with the roar of the waves, and the shrieking of the winds. for several days the stormy weather continued. then followed a period of calm, which the captain well employed in repairing the rigging, and exercising the men with the guns and small-arms. many ships had been sighted, and some, evidently men-of-war, had given chase; but the "boston" succeeded in showing them all a clean pair of heels. "what would you do," said mr. adams one day, as he stood with the captain watching three ships that were making desperate efforts to overhaul the "boston," "if you could not escape, and they should attack you?" "as the first is far in advance of the others, i should carry her by boarding, leading the boarders myself," was the response. "i should take her; for no doubt a majority of her crew, being pressed men, would turn to and join me. having taken her, i should be matched, and could fight the other two." such language as this coming from many men would be considered mere foolhardy boasting. but tucker was a man not given to brag. indeed, he was apt to be very laconic in speaking of his exploits. a short time after his escape from the three ships, he fell in with an english armed vessel of no small force, and captured her. his only comment on the action in his journal reads, "i fired a gun, and they returned three; and down went the colors." john adams, however, told a more graphic story of this capture. tucker, as soon as he saw an armed vessel in his path, hastily called his crew to order, and bore down upon her. when the roll of the drum, calling the people to quarters, resounded through the ship, mr. adams seized a musket, and took his stand with the marines. capt. tucker, seeing him there, requested him to go below, and upon his desire being disregarded, put his hand upon the envoy's shoulder, and in a tone of authority said,-- "mr. adams, i am commanded by the continental congress to deliver you safe in france, and you must go below." the envoy smilingly complied, and just at that moment the enemy let fly her broadside. the shot flew through the rigging, doing but little damage. though the guns of the "boston" were shotted, and the gunners stood at their posts with smoking match-stocks, capt. tucker gave no order to fire, but seemed intent upon the manoeuvres of the ships. the eager blue-jackets begun to murmur, and the chorus of questions and oaths was soon so great that the attention of tucker was attracted. he looked at the row of eager faces on the gun-deck, and shouted out,-- "hold on, my men! i wish to save that egg without breaking the shell." soon after, tucker brought his broadside to bear on the stern of the enemy, and she struck without more ado. she proved to be an armed ship, the "martha." after this encounter, nothing more of moment occurred on the voyage; and the "boston" reached bordeaux, and landed her distinguished passenger in safety. two months later she left bordeaux, in company with a fleet of twenty sail, one of which was the "ranger," formerly commanded by paul jones. with these vessels he cruised for a time in european waters, but returned to the american coast in the autumn. his services for the rest of that year, and the early part of , we must pass over hastily, though many were the prizes that fell into his clutches. many anecdotes are told of tucker. his shrewdness, originality, and daring made him a favorite theme for story-tellers. but, unhappily, the anecdotes have generally no proof of their truth. one or two, however, told by capt. tucker's biographer, mr. john h. sheppard, will not be out of place here. in one the story is told that tucker fell in with a british frigate which he knew to be sent in search of him. showing the english flag, he sailed boldly towards the enemy, and in answer to her hail said he was capt. gordon of the english navy, out in search of the "boston," commanded by the rebel tucker. "i'll carry him to new york, dead or alive," said tucker. "have you seen him?" was asked. "well, i've heard of him," was the response; "and they say he is a hard customer." all this time tucker had been manoeuvring to secure a raking position. behind the closed ports of the "boston," the men stood at their guns, ready for the word of command. just as the american had secured the position desired, a sailor in the tops of the british vessel cried out,-- "that is surely tucker; we shall have a devil of a smell directly." hearing this, tucker ordered the american flag hoisted, and the ports thrown open. hailing his astonished foe, he cried,-- "the time i proposed talking with you is ended. this is the 'boston,' frigate. i am samuel tucker, but no rebel. fire, or strike your flag." the englishman saw he had no alternative but to strike. this he did without firing a gun. the vessel, though not named in the anecdote, was probably the "pole," of the capture of which tucker frequently speaks in his letters. of the part tucker played in the siege of charleston, of his capture there by the british, and of his exchange, we shall speak later. at that disaster four american frigates were lost: so many of the best naval officers were thrown out of employment. among them was tucker; but ever anxious for active service, he obtained the sloop-of-war "thorn," which he himself had captured, and went out as a privateer. in this vessel he saw some sharp service. one engagement was thus described to mr. sheppard by a marine named everett who was on board:-- "we had been cruising about three weeks when we fell in with an english packet of twenty-two guns and one hundred men. not long after she was discovered, the commodore called up his crew, and said, 'she means to fight us; and if we go alongside like men, she is ours in thirty minutes, but if we can't go as men we have no business here.' he then told them he wanted no cowards on deck, and requested those who were willing to fight to go down the starboard, and those who were unwilling the larboard gangway. every man and boy took the first, signifying his willingness to meet the enemy. "as mr. everett was passing by, the commodore asked him,-- "'are you willing to go alongside of her?' "'yes, sir,' was the reply. "in mentioning this conversation, however, mr. everett candidly confessed, 'i did not tell him the truth, for i would rather have been in my father's cornfield.' "after the commanders of these two vessels, as they drew near, had hailed each other in the customary way when ships meet at sea, the captain of the english packet cried out roughly from the quarter-deck,-- "'haul down your colors, or i'll sink you!' "'ay, ay, sir; directly,' answered tucker calmly. and he then ordered the helmsman to steer the 'thorn' right under the stern of the packet, luff up under her lee quarters, and range alongside of her. the order was promptly executed. the two vessels were laid side by side, within pistol shot of each other. while the 'thorn' was getting into position, the enemy fired a full broadside at her which did but little damage. as soon as she was brought completely alongside her adversary, tucker thundered out to his men to fire, and a tremendous discharge followed; and, as good aim had been taken, a dreadful carnage was seen in that ill-fated vessel. it was rapidly succeeded by a fresh volley of artillery, and in twenty-seven minutes a piercing cry was heard from the english vessel: 'quarters, for god's sake! our ship is sinking. our men are dying of their wounds.' "to this heart-rending appeal capt. tucker exclaimed,-- "'how can you expect quarters while that british flag is flying?' "the sad answer came back, 'our halliards are shot away.' "'then cut away your ensign staff, or ye'll all be dead men.' "it was done immediately. down came the colors, the din of cannonading ceased, and only the groans of the wounded and dying were heard. "fifteen men, with carpenters, surgeon, and their leader, were quickly on the deck of the prize. thirty-four of her crew, with her captain, were either killed or wounded. her decks were besmeared with blood, and in some places it stood in clotted masses to the tops of the sailors' slippers. the gloomy but needful work of amputating limbs, and laying out the dead, was begun; and every effort was made to render the wounded prisoners as comfortable as possible." here we must take leave of commodore tucker and his exploits. as a privateersman, he continued to do daring work to the end of the war. he fought at least one more bloody action. he was captured once and escaped. but the recountal of his romantic career must now yield to our chronological survey of the lesser naval events of the revolution. chapter xi. hostilities in . -- american reverses. -- the british in philadelphia. -- the attack upon fort mifflin. -- cruise of the "raleigh" and the "alfred." -- torpedo warfare. -- the battle of the kegs. we have now heard of the exploits of some of the chief naval leaders of the war of the revolution. but there were many dashing engagements in which the great commanders took no part, and many important captures made by vessels sailing under the flags of the individual colonies, which deserve attention. the american cause on the water suffered some rather severe reverses in the early part of . in march, the brig "cabot" fell in with the british frigate "milford," and was so hard pressed that she was run ashore on the coast of nova scotia. the crew had hardly time to get ashore before the british took possession of the stranded craft. the americans were left helpless, in a wild and little settled country, but finally made their way through the woods to a harbor. here they found a coasting schooner lying at anchor, upon which they promptly seized, and in which they escaped to portsmouth. in the mean time, the british had got the "cabot" afloat again. two months later, or in the early part of may, two united states vessels, the "hancock" thirty-two, capt. manly, and the "boston" twenty-four, capt. hector mcneil, sailed in company from boston. when a few days out, a strange sail was sighted, and proved to be a british frigate. the "hancock" soon came near enough to her to exchange broadsides, as the two vessels were going on opposite tacks. the enemy, however, seemed anxious to avoid a conflict, and exerted every effort to escape. manly, having great confidence in the speed of his ship, gave chase. calling the people from the guns, he bade them make a leisurely breakfast, and get ready for the work before them. the "hancock" soon overhauled the chase, which began firing her guns as fast as they would bear. the americans, however, made no response until fairly alongside, when they let fly a broadside with ringing cheers. the action lasted for an hour and a half before the enemy struck. she proved to be the "fox," twenty-eight. she was badly cut up by the american fire, and had thirty-two dead and wounded men on board. the loss on the "hancock" amounted to only eight men. in this running fight the "boston" was hopelessly distanced, coming up just in time to fire a gun as the british ensign came fluttering from the peak. putting a prize crew on the "fox," the three vessels continued their cruise. a week passed, and no sail was seen. somewhat rashly capt. manly turned his ship's prow toward halifax, then, as now, the chief british naval station on the american coast. when the three ships appeared off the entrance to the harbor of halifax, the british men-of-war inside quickly spied them, raised anchor, and came crowding out in hot pursuit. there was the "rainbow" forty-four, the "flora" thirty-two, and the "victor" eighteen, besides two others whose names could not be ascertained. the americans saw that they had stirred up a nest of hornets, and sought safety in flight. the three british vessels whose names are given gave chase. the "boston," by her swift sailing, easily kept out of the reach of the enemy. the "fox," however, was quickly overhauled by the "flora," and struck her flag after exchanging a few broadsides. the "hancock" for a time seemed likely to escape, but at last the "rainbow" began gradually to overhaul her. capt. manly, finding escape impossible, began manoeuvring with the intention of boarding his powerful adversary; but the light winds made this impossible, and he suddenly found himself under the guns of the "rainbow," with the "victor" astern, in a raking position. seeing no hope for success in so unequal a conflict, manly struck his flag. in the mean time the "boston" had calmly proceeded upon her way, leaving her consorts to their fate. for having thus abandoned his superior officer, capt. mcneil was dismissed the service upon his return to boston. these losses were to some degree offset by the good fortune of the "trumbull," twenty-eight, in command of capt. saltonstall. she left new york in april of this year, and had been on the water but a few days when she fell in with two british armed vessels of no inconsiderable force. the englishmen, confident of their ability to beat off the cruiser, made no effort to avoid a conflict. capt. saltonstall, by good seamanship, managed to put his vessel between the two hostile ships, and then worked both batteries with such vigor, that, after half-an-hour's fighting, the enemy was glad to strike. in this action the americans lost seven men killed, and eight wounded. the loss of the enemy was not reported. this capture was of the greatest importance to the american cause, for the two prizes were loaded with military and naval stores. during the year , the occupation of philadelphia by the british army, under gen. howe, led to some activity on the part of the american navy. while philadelphia had been in the possession of the continentals, it had been a favorite naval rendezvous. into the broad channel of the delaware the american cruisers had been accustomed to retreat when the british naval force along the coast became threateningly active. at the broad wharves of philadelphia, the men-of-war laid up to have necessary repairs made. in the rope-walks of the town, the cordage for the gallant yankee ships was spun. in the busy shipyards along the delaware, many of the frigates, provided for by the act of , were built. in the summer of all this was changed. sir william howe, at the head of an irresistible army, marched upon philadelphia; and, defeating the american army at brandywine, entered the city in triumph. the privateers and men-of-war scattered hastily, to avoid capture. most of them fled down the delaware; but a few, chiefly vessels still uncompleted, ascended the river. to cut off these vessels, the british immediately commenced the erection of batteries to command the channel of the river, and prevent any communication between the american vessels above and below philadelphia. to check the erection of these batteries, the american vessels "delaware" twenty-four, and "andrea doria" fourteen, together with one or two vessels flying the pennsylvania flag, took up a position before the incomplete earthworks, and opened a heavy fire upon the soldiers employed in the trenches. so accurate was the aim of the american gunners, that work on the batteries was stopped. but, unluckily, the commander of the "delaware," capt. alexander, had failed to reckon on the swift outflowing of the tide; and just as the sailors on that ship were becoming jubilant over the prospect of a victory, a mighty quiver throughout the ship told that she had been left on a shoal by the ebb tide. the enemy was not long in discovering the helpless condition of the "delaware;" and field-pieces and siege-guns were brought down to the river-bank, until the luckless americans saw themselves commanded by a heavy battery. in this unhappy predicament there was no course remaining but to strike their flag. though the british had possession of philadelphia, and virtually controlled the navigation of the river at that point, the americans still held powerful positions at red bank and at fort mifflin, lower down the river. against the former post the british sent an unsuccessful land expedition of hessians, but against fort mifflin a naval expedition was despatched. fort mifflin was built on a low marshy island near the mouth of the schuylkill. its very situation, surrounded as it was by mud and water, made it impregnable to any land attack. while the fort itself was a fairly strong earthwork, laid out upon approved principles of engineering, its outer works of defence added greatly to its strength. in the main channels of the river were sunk heavy, sharp-pointed _chevaux de frise_, or submarine palisades, with sharp points extending just above the surface of the water. in addition to this obstacle, the enemy advancing by water upon the fort would have to meet the american flotilla, which, though composed of small craft only, was large enough to prove very annoying to an enemy. in this flotilla were thirteen galleys, one carrying a thirty-two pounder, and the rest with varying weight of ordnance; twenty-six half-galleys, each carrying a four-pounder; two xebecs, each with two twenty-four-pounders in the bow, two eighteen-pounders in the stern, and four nine-pounders in the waist; two floating batteries, fourteen fire-ships, one schooner-galley, one brig-galley, one provincial ship, and the brig "andrea doria." it was no small naval force that the british had to overcome before attacking the mud ramparts and bastions of fort mifflin. against this armament the british brought a number of vessels, with the "augusta," sixty-four, in the lead. the battle was begun late in the afternoon of the d of october, . the attack of the hessians upon the american fortifications at red bank, and the opening of the action between the british and american fleets, were simultaneous. the hessians were beaten back with heavy loss, some of the american vessels opening fire upon them from the river. the naval battle lasted but a short time that night, owing to the darkness. when the battle ended for the night, the "augusta," and the "merlin," sloop-of-war, were left hard and fast aground. the next morning the british advanced again to the attack. the skirmish of the night before had shown them that the yankee flotilla was no mean adversary; and they now brought up re-inforcements, in the shape of the "roebuck" forty-four, "isis" thirty-two, "pearl" thirty-two, and "liverpool" twenty-eight. no sooner had the british squadron come within range than a heavy fire was opened upon the fort. the american flotilla was prompt to answer the challenge, and soon the action became general. time and time again the americans sent huge fire-ships, their well-tarred spars and rigging blazing fiercely, down among the enemy. but the skill and activity of the british sailors warded off this danger. thereupon the americans, seeing that they could not rely upon their fire-ships, changed their plan of action. any one of the british vessels was more than a match for the largest american craft, so the yankees saw they must rely upon force of numbers. accordingly their larger vessels were each assigned to attack one of the enemy; while the swift-sailing galleys plied to and fro in the battle, lending aid where needed, and striking a blow wherever the opportunity offered itself. this course of action soon began to tell upon the british. all of their vessels began to show the effects of the american fire. the "augusta" was in flames, owing to some pressed hay that had been packed upon her quarter having been set on fire. despite the efforts of her crew, the flames spread rapidly. seeing no chance to save the vessel, the crew abandoned her, and sought to gain the protection of other vessels of the british fleet. but the other ships, seeing the flames on the "augusta" drawing closer and closer to the magazine, and knowing that her explosion in that narrow and crowded channel would work dreadful damage among them, determined to abandon the attack upon fort mifflin, and withdrew. the "merlin," which was hard and fast aground, was fired, and the british fled. as they turned their ships' prows down the delaware, the dull sullen roar of an explosion told that the "augusta" had met her end. soon after the "merlin" blew up, and the defeat of the british was complete. but, though worsted in this attack upon fort mifflin, the british did not wholly abandon their designs upon it. immediately upon their repulse, they began their preparations for a second attack. this time they did not propose to rely upon men-of-war alone. batteries were built upon every point of land within range of fort mifflin. floating batteries were built, and towed into position. by the th of november all was ready, and upon that day a tremendous cannonade was opened upon the american works. after two days of ceaseless bombardment, the garrison of the fort was forced to surrender. since the fall of fort mifflin gave the control of the delaware to the british, the americans immediately put the torch to the "andrea doria" fourteen, the "wasp" eight, and the "hornet" ten; while the galleys skulked away along the jersey coast, in search of places of retreat. while the yankee tars on river and harbor duty were thus getting their share of fighting, there was plenty of daring work being done on the high seas. one of the most important cruises of the year was that of the "raleigh" and the "alfred." the "raleigh" was one of the twelve-pounder frigates built under the naval act of . with her consort the "alfred," she left the american coast in the summer of , bound for france, in search of naval stores that were there awaiting transportation to the united states. both vessels were short-handed. on the d of september the two vessels overhauled and captured the snow "nancy," from england, bound for the west indies. her captain reported that he had sailed from the west indies with a fleet of sixty merchantmen, under the convoy of four small men-of-war, the "camel," the "druid," the "weasel," and the "grasshopper." the poor sailing qualities of the "nancy" had forced her to drop behind, and the fleet was then about a day in advance of her. crowding on all canvas, the two american ships set out in hot pursuit. from the captain of the "nancy" capt. thompson of the "raleigh" had obtained all the signals in use in the fleet of indiamen. the next morning the fleet was made out; and the "raleigh" and the "alfred" exchanged signals, as though they were part of the convoy. they hung about the outskirts of the fleet until dark, planning, when the night should fall, to make a dash into the enemy's midst, and cut out the chief armed vessel. but at nightfall the wind changed, so that the plan of the americans was defeated. at daylight, however, the wind veered round and freshened, so that the "raleigh," crowding on more sail, was soon in the very centre of the enemy's fleet. the "alfred," unfortunately, being unable to carry so great a spread of canvas, was left behind; and the "raleigh" remained to carry out alone her daring adventure. the "raleigh" boldly steered straight into the midst of the british merchantmen, exchanging signals with some, and hailing others. her ports were lowered, and her guns on deck housed, so that there appeared about her nothing to indicate her true character. having cruised about amid the merchantmen, she drew up alongside the nearest man-of-war, and when within pistol-shot, suddenly ran up her flag, threw open her ports, and commanded the enemy to strike. all was confusion on board the british vessel. her officers had never for a moment suspected the "raleigh" of being other than one of their own fleet. while they stood aghast, not even keeping the vessel on her course, the "raleigh" poured in a broadside. the british responded faintly with a few guns. deliberately the americans let fly another broadside, which did great execution. the enemy were driven from their guns, but doggedly refused to strike, holding out, doubtless, in the hope that the cannonade might draw to their assistance some of the other armed ships accompanying the fleet. while the unequal combat was raging, a heavy squall came rushing over the water. the driving sheets of rain shut in the combatants, and only by the thunders of the cannonade could the other vessels tell that a battle was being fought in their midst. when the squall had passed by, the affrighted merchantmen were seen scudding in every direction, like a school of flying-fish into whose midst some rapacious shark or dolphin has intruded himself. but the three men-of-war, with several armed west-indiamen in their wake, were fast bearing down upon the combatants, with the obvious intention of rescuing their comrade, and punishing the audacious yankee. the odds against thompson were too great; and after staying by his adversary until the last possible moment, and pouring broadside after broadside into her, he abandoned the fight and rejoined the "alfred." the two ships hung on the flanks of the fleet for some days, in the hopes of enticing two of the men-of-war out to join in battle. but all was to no avail, and the americans were forced to content themselves with the scant glory won in the incomplete action of the "raleigh." her adversary proved to be the "druid," twenty, which suffered severely from the "raleigh's" repeated broadsides, having six killed, and twenty-six wounded; of the wounded, five died immediately after the battle. it was during the year that occurred the first attempt to use gunpowder in the shape of a submarine torpedo. this device, which to-day threatens to overturn all established ideas of naval organization and architecture, originated with a clever connecticut mechanic named david bushnell. his invention covered not only submarine torpedoes, to be launched against a vessel, but a submarine boat in which an adventurous navigator might undertake to go beneath the hull of a man-of-war, and affix the torpedoes, so that failure should be impossible. this boat in shape was not unlike a turtle. a system of valves, air-pumps, and ballast enabled the operator to ascend or descend in the water at will. a screw-propeller afforded means of propulsion, and phosphorescent gauges and compasses enabled him to steer with some accuracy. preliminary tests made with this craft were uniformly successful. after a skilled operator had been obtained, the boat perfectly discharged the duties required of her. but, as is so often the case, when the time for action came she proved inadequate to the emergency. let her inventor tell the story in his own words:-- "after various attempts to find an operator to my wish, i sent one, who appeared to be more expert than the rest, from new york, to a fifty-gun ship, lying not far from governor's island. he went under the ship, and attempted to fix the wooden screw to her bottom, but struck, as he supposes, a bar of iron, which passes from the rudder hinge, and is spiked under the ship's quarter. had he moved a few inches, which he might have done without rowing, i have no doubt he would have found wood where he might have fixed the screw; or, if the ship were sheathed with copper, he might easily have pierced it. but not being well skilled in the management of the vessel, in attempting to move to another place, he lost the ship. after seeking her in vain for some time, he rowed some distance, and rose to the surface of the water, but found daylight had advanced so far that he durst not renew the attempt. he says that he could easily have fastened the magazine under the stern of the ship above water, as he rowed up to the stern and touched it before he descended. had he fastened it there, the explosion of a hundred and fifty pounds of powder (the quantity contained in the magazine) must have been fatal to the ship. in his return from the ship to new york, he passed near governor's island, and thought he was discovered by the enemy on the island. being in haste to avoid the danger he feared, he cast off the magazine, as he imagined it retarded him in the swell, which was very considerable. after the magazine had been cast off one hour the time the internal apparatus was set to run, it blew up with great violence. "afterwards there were two attempts made in hudson's river, above the city; but they effected nothing. one of them was by the aforementioned person. in going toward the ship, he lost sight of her, and went a great distance beyond her. when he at length found her, the tide ran so strong, that, as he descended under water, for the ship's bottom, it swept him away. soon after this, the enemy went up the river, and pursued the boat which had the submarine vessel on board, and sunk it with their shot." so it appears, that, so far as this submarine vessel was concerned, bushnell's great invention came to naught. and, indeed, it was but the first of a long line of experiments which have been terribly costly in human life, and which as yet have not been brought to a successful end. in every war there comes forward the inventor with the submarine boat, and he always finds a few brave men ready to risk their lives in the floating coffin. somewhere in charleston harbor to-day lies a submarine boat, enclosing the skeletons of eight men, who went out in it to break the blockade of the port during the civil war. and although there are to-day several types of submarine boat, each of which is claimed to make practicable the navigation of the ocean's depths, yet it is doubtful whether any of them are much safer than bushnell's primitive "turtle." but bushnell's experiments in torpedo warfare were not confined to attempts to destroy hostile vessels by means of his submarine vessel. he made several attacks upon the enemy by means of automatic torpedoes, none of which met with complete success. one of these attacks, made at philadelphia in december, , furnished the incident upon which is founded the well-known ballad of the "battle of the kegs." it was at a time when the delaware was filled with british shipping, that bushnell set adrift upon its swift-flowing tide a number of small kegs, filled with gunpowder, and provided with percussion apparatus, so that contact with any object would explode them. the kegs were started on their voyage at night. but bushnell had miscalculated the distance they had to travel; so that, instead of reaching the british fleet under cover of darkness, they arrived early in the morning. great was the wonder of the british sentries, on ship and shore, to see the broad bosom of the river dotted with floating kegs. as the author of the satirical ballad describes it,-- "twas early day, as poets say, just as the sun was rising; a soldier stood on a log of wood and saw the sun a-rising. as in amaze he stood to gaze (the truth can't be denied, sir), he spied a score of kegs, or more, come floating down the tide, sir. a sailor, too, in jerkin blue, the strange appearance viewing, first d----d his eyes in great surprise, then said, 'some mischief's brewing.' these kegs, i'm told, the rebels hold, packed up like pickled herring; and they've come down to attack the town in this new way of ferrying." the curiosity of the british at this inexplicable spectacle gave place to alarm, when one of the kegs, being picked up, blew up a boat, and seriously injured the man whose curiosity had led him to examine it too closely. half panic-stricken, the british got out their guns, great and small; and all day every small object on the delaware was the target for a lively fusillade. "the cannons roar from shore to shore, the small arms loud did rattle. since wars began, i'm sure no man e'er saw so strange a battle. the fish below swam to and fro, attacked from every quarter. 'why sure' (thought they), 'the devil's to pay, 'mong folk above the water.'" but in the end the kegs all floated by the city, and only the ammunition stores of the british suffered from the attack. another attempt was made by bushnell to destroy the british frigate "cerberus," lying at anchor off the connecticut coast. a torpedo, with the usual percussion apparatus, was drawn along the side of the frigate by a long line, but fouled with a schooner lying astern. the explosion occurred with frightful force, and the schooner was wholly demolished. three men who were on board of her were blown to pieces; and a fourth was thrown high into the air, and was picked out of the water in an almost dying condition. these experiments of the connecticut mechanic in the revolutionary war were the forerunner of a movement which took almost a hundred years to become generally accepted. we have been accustomed to say that ericsson's armor-clad monitor revolutionized naval warfare; but the perfection of the torpedo is forcing the armor-clad ships into disuse, as they in their day thrust aside the old wooden frigates. the wise nation to-day, seeing how irresistible is the power of the torpedo, is abandoning the construction of cumbrous iron-clads, and building light, swift cruisers, that by speed and easy steering can avoid the submarine enemy. and if the torpedo cannot be said to be the ideal weapon of chivalric warfare, it may at least in time be credited with doing away with the custom of cooping men up in wrought-iron boxes, to fight with machine guns. farragut, who hated iron-clads, liked torpedoes little better; but had he foreseen their effects upon naval tactics, he might have hailed them as the destroyers of the iron-clad ships. chapter xii. naval events of . -- recruiting for the navy. -- the descent upon new providence. -- operations on the delaware. -- capt. barry's exploits. -- destruction of the american frigates. -- american reverses. -- the capture of the "pigot." -- french naval exploits. the year opened with the brightest prospects for the american cause. the notable success of the american arms on land, and particularly the surrender of burgoyne, had favorably disposed france toward an alliance with the united states; and, in fact, this alliance was soon formed. furthermore, the evidence of the prowess of the americans on shore had stirred up the naval authorities to vigorous action, and it was determined to make the year a notable one upon the ocean. much difficulty was found, at the very outset, in getting men to ship for service on the regular cruisers. privateers were being fitted out in every port; and on them the life was easy, discipline slack, danger to life small, and the prospects for financial reward far greater than on the united states men-of-war. accordingly, the seafaring men as a rule preferred to ship on the privateers. at no time in the history of the united states has the barbaric british custom of getting sailors for the navy by means of the "press-gang" been followed. american blue-jackets have never been impressed by force. it is unfortunately true that unfair advantages have been taken of their simplicity, and sometimes they have even been shipped while under the influence of liquor; but such cases have been rare. it is safe to say that few men have ever trod the deck of a united states man-of-war, as members of the crew, without being there of their own free will and accord. but in it was sometimes hard to fill the ships' rosters. then the ingenuity of the recruiting officers was called into play. a sailor who served on the "protector" during the revolution thus tells the story of his enlistment:-- "all means were resorted to which ingenuity could devise to induce men to enlist. a recruiting officer, bearing a flag, and attended by a band of martial music, paraded the streets, to excite a thirst for glory and a spirit of military ambition. the recruiting officer possessed the qualifications necessary to make the service appear alluring, especially to the young. he was a jovial, good-natured fellow, of ready wit and much broad humor. when he espied any large boys among the idle crowd around him, he would attract their attention by singing in a comical manner the following doggerel,-- 'all you that have bad masters, and cannot get your due, come, come, my brave boys, and join our ship's crew.' [illustration: commodore barry.] "a shout and a huzza would follow, and some would join in the ranks. my excitable feelings were aroused. i repaired to the rendezvous, signed the ship's papers, mounted a cockade, and was, in my own estimation, already more than half a sailor. appeals continued to be made to the patriotism of every young man, to lend his aid, by his exertions on sea or land, to free his country from the common enemy. about the last of february the ship was ready to receive her crew, and was hauled off into the channel, that the sailors might have no opportunity to run away after they were got on board. upward of three hundred and thirty men were carried, dragged, and driven on board, of all kinds, ages, and descriptions, in all the various stages of intoxication, from that of sober tipsiness to beastly drunkenness, with an uproar and clamor that may be more easily imagined than described." but, whatever the methods adopted to secure recruits for the navy, the men thus obtained did admirable service; and in no year did they win more glory than in . as usual the year's operations were opened by an exploit of one of the smaller cruisers. this was the united states sloop-of-war "providence," a trig little vessel, mounting only twelve four-pounders, and carrying a crew of but fifty men. but she was in command of a daring seaman capt. rathburne, and she opened the year's hostilities with an exploit worthy of paul jones. off the south-eastern coast of florida, in that archipelago or collection of groups of islands known collectively as the west indies, lies the small island of new providence. here in was a small british colony. the well-protected harbor, and the convenient location of the island, made it a favorite place for the rendezvous of british naval vessels. indeed, it bid fair to become, what nassau is to-day, the chief british naval station on the american coast. in the little seaport had a population of about one thousand people. with his little vessel, and her puny battery of four-pounders, capt. rathburne determined to undertake the capture of new providence. only the highest daring, approaching even recklessness, could have conceived such a plan. the harbor was defended by a fort of no mean power. there was always one british armed vessel, and often more, lying at anchor under the guns of the fort. two hundred of the people of the town were able-bodied men, able to bear arms. how, then, were the yankees, with their puny force, to hope for success? this query rathburne answered, "by dash and daring." it was about eleven o'clock on the night of the th of january, , that the "providence" cast anchor in a sheltered cove near the entrance to the harbor of new providence. twenty-five of her crew were put ashore, and being re-enforced by a few american prisoners kept upon the island, made a descent upon fort nassau from its landward side. the sentries dozing at their posts were easily overpowered, and the garrison was aroused from its peaceful slumbers by the cheers of the yankee blue-jackets as they came tumbling in over the ramparts. a rocket sent up from the fort announced the victory to the "providence," and she came in and cast anchor near the fort. when morning broke, the americans saw a large sixteen-gun ship lying at anchor in the harbor, together with five sail that looked suspiciously like captured american merchantmen. the proceedings of the night had been quietly carried on, and the crew of the armed vessel had no reason to suspect that the condition of affairs on shore had been changed in any way during the night. but at daybreak a boat carrying four men put off from the shore, and made for the armed ship; and at the same time a flag was flung out from the flagstaff of the fort,--not the familiar scarlet flag of great britain, but the almost unknown stars and stripes of the united states. the sleepy sailors on the armed vessel rubbed their eyes; and while they were staring at the strange piece of bunting, there came a hail from a boat alongside, and an american officer clambered over the rail. he curtly told the captain of the privateer that the fort was in the hands of the americans, and called upon him to surrender his vessel forthwith. resistance was useless; for the heavy guns of fort nassau were trained upon the british ship, and could blow her out of the water. the visitor's arguments proved to be unanswerable; and the captain of the privateer surrendered his vessel, which was taken possession of by the americans; while her crew of forty-five men was ordered into confinement in the dungeons of the fort which had so lately held captive americans. other boarding parties were then sent to the other vessels in the harbor, which proved to be american craft, captured by the british sloop-of-war "grayton." at sunrise the sleeping town showed signs of reviving life, and a party of the audacious yankees marched down to the house of the governor. that functionary was found in bed, and in profound ignorance of the events of the night. the americans broke the news to him none too gently, and demanded the keys of a disused fortress on the opposite side of the harbor from fort nassau. for a time the governor was inclined to demur; but the determined attitude of the americans soon persuaded him that he was a prisoner, though in his own house, and he delivered the keys. thereupon the americans marched through the streets of the city, around the harbor's edge to the fort, spiked the guns, and carrying with them the powder and small-arms, marched back to fort nassau. but by this time it was ten o'clock, and the whole town was aroused. the streets were crowded with people eagerly discussing the invasion. the timid ones were busily packing up their goods to fly into the country; while the braver ones were hunting for weapons, and organizing for an attack upon the fort held by the americans. fearing an outbreak, capt. rathburne sent out a flag of truce, making proclamation to all the inhabitants of new providence, that the americans would do no damage to the persons or property of the people of the island unless compelled so to do in self-defence. this pacified the more temperate of the inhabitants; but the hotheads, to the number of about two hundred, assembled before fort nassau, and threatened to attack it. but, when they summoned rathburne to surrender, that officer leaped upon the parapet, and coolly told the assailants to come on. "we can beat you back easily," said he. "and, by the eternal, if you fire a gun at us, we'll turn the guns of the fort on your town, and lay it in ruins." this bold defiance disconcerted the enemy; and, after some consultation among themselves, they dispersed. about noon that day, the british sloop-of-war "grayton" made her appearance, and stood boldly into the harbor where lay the "providence." the united states colors were quickly hauled down from the fort flagstaff, and every means was taken to conceal the true state of affairs from the enemy. but the inhabitants along the water-side, by means of constant signalling and shouting, at last aroused the suspicion of her officers; and she hastily put about, and scudded for the open sea. the guns at fort nassau opened on her as she passed, and the aim of the yankee gunners was accurate enough to make the splinters fly. the exact damage done her has, however, never been ascertained. all that night the daring band of blue-jackets held the fort unmolested. but on the following morning the townspeople again plucked up courage, and to the number of five hundred marched to the fort, and placing several pieces of artillery in battery, summoned the garrison to surrender. the flag of truce that bore the summons carried also the threat, that, unless the americans laid down their arms without resistance, the fort would be stormed, and all therein put to the sword without mercy. for answer to the summons, the americans nailed their colors to the mast, and swore that while a man of them lived the fort should not be surrendered. by this bold defiance they so awed the enemy that the day passed without the expected assault; and at night the besiegers returned to their homes, without having fired a shot. all that night the americans worked busily, transferring to the "providence" all the ammunition and stores in the fort; and the next morning the prizes were manned, the guns of the fort spiked, and the adventurous yankees set sail in triumph. for three days they had held possession of the island, though outnumbered tenfold by the inhabitants; they had captured large quantities of ammunition and naval stores; they had freed their captured countrymen; they had retaken from the british five captured american vessels, and in the whole affair they had lost not a single man. it was an achievement of which a force of triple the number might have been proud. in february, , the delaware, along the water-front of philadelphia, was the scene of some dashing work by american sailors, under the command of capt. john barry. this officer was in command of the "effingham," one of the vessels which had been trapped in the delaware by the unexpected occupation of philadelphia by the british. the inactivity of the vessels, which had taken refuge at whitehall, was a sore disappointment to barry, who longed for the excitement and dangers of actual battle. with the british in force at philadelphia, it was madness to think of taking the frigates down the stream. but barry rightly thought that what could not be done with a heavy ship might be done with a few light boats. philadelphia was then crowded with british troops. the soldiers were well provided with money, and, finding themselves quartered in a city for the winter, led a life of continual gayety. the great accession to the population of the town made it necessary to draw upon the country far and near for provisions; and boats were continually plying upon the delaware, carrying provisions to the city. to intercept some of these boats, and to give the merry british officers a taste of starvation, was barry's plan. accordingly four boats were manned with well-armed crews, and with muffled oars set out on a dark night to patrol the river. philadelphia was reached, and the expedition was almost past the city, when the sentries on one of the british men-of-war gave the alarm. a few scattering shots were fired from the shore; but the jackies bent to their oars, and the boats were soon lost to sight in the darkness. when day broke, barry was far down the river. opposite the little post held by the american army, and called fort penn, barry spied a large schooner, mounting ten guns, and flying the british flag. with her were four transport ships, loaded with forage for the enemy's forces. though the sun had risen, and it was broad day, barry succeeded in running his boats alongside the schooner; and before the british suspected the presence of any enemy, the blue-jackets were clambering over the rail, cutlass and pistol in hand. there was no resistance. the astonished englishmen threw down their arms, and rushed below. the victorious americans battened down the hatches, ordered the four transports to surrender, on pain of being fired into, and triumphantly carried all five prizes to the piers of fort penn. there the hatches were removed; and, the yankee sailors being drawn up in line, barry ordered the prisoners to come on deck. when all appeared, it was found that the yankees had bagged one major, two captains, three lieutenants, ten soldiers, and about a hundred sailors and marines,--a very respectable haul for a party of not more than thirty american sailors. the next day a british frigate and sloop-of-war appeared down the bay. they were under full sail, and were apparently making for fort penn, with the probable intention of recapturing barry's prizes. fearing that he might be robbed of the fruits of his victory, barry put the four transports in charge of capt. middleton, with instructions to fire them should the enemy attempt to cut them out. in the mean time, he took the ten-gun schooner, and made for the christiana river, in the hopes of taking her into shallow waters, whither the heavier british vessels could not follow. but, unluckily for his plans, the wind favored the frigate; and she gained upon him so rapidly, that only by the greatest expedition could he run his craft ashore and escape. two of the guns were pointed down the main hatch, and a few rounds of round-shot were fired through the schooner's bottom. she sunk quickly; and the americans pushed off from her side, just as the british frigate swung into position, and let fly her broadside at her escaping foes. the schooner being thus disposed of, the british turned their attention to the four captured transports at fort penn. capt. middleton and capt. mclane, who commanded the american militia on shore, had taken advantage of the delay to build a battery of bales of hay near the piers. the british sloop-of-war opened the attack, but the sharp-shooters in the battery and on the transports gave her so warm a reception that she retired. she soon returned to the attack, but was checked by the american fire, and might have been beaten off, had not middleton received a mortal wound while standing on the battery and cheering on his men. dismayed by the fall of their leader, the americans set fire to the transport and fled to the woods, leaving the british masters of the field. barry's conduct in this enterprise won for him the admiration of friend and foe alike. sir william howe, then commander-in-chief of the british forces in america, offered the daring american twenty thousand guineas and the command of a british frigate, if he would desert the service of the united states. "not the value and command of the whole british fleet," wrote barry in reply, "can seduce me from the cause of my country." after this adventure, barry and his followers made their way through the woods back to whitehall, where his ship the "effingham" was lying at anchor. here he passed the winter in inactivity. at whitehall, and near that place, were nearly a dozen armed ships, frigates, sloops, and privateers. all had fled thither for safety when the british took possession of philadelphia, and now found themselves caught in a trap. to run the blockade of british batteries and men-of-war at philadelphia, was impossible; and there was nothing to do but wait until the enemy should evacuate the city. but the british were in no haste to leave philadelphia; and when they did get ready to leave, they determined to destroy the american flotilla before departing. accordingly on the th of may, , the water-front of the quaker city was alive with soldiers and citizens watching the embarkation of the troops ordered against the american forces at whitehall. on the placid bosom of the delaware floated the schooners "viper" and "pembroke," the galleys "hussar," "cornwallis," "ferret," and "philadelphia," four gunboats, and eighteen flat-boats. between this fleet and the shore, boats were busily plying, carrying off the soldiers of the light infantry, seven hundred of whom were detailed for the expedition. it was a holiday affair. the british expected little fighting; and with flags flying, and bands playing, the vessels started up stream, the cheers of the soldiers on board mingling with those on the shore. bristol, the landing-place chosen, was soon reached; and the troops disembarked without meeting with any opposition. forming in solid column, the soldiers took up the march for whitehall; but, when within five miles of that place, a ruddy glare in the sky told that the americans had been warned of their coming, and had set the torch to the shipping. when the head of the british column entered whitehall, the two new american frigates "washington" and "effingham" were wrapped in flames. both were new vessels, and neither had yet taken on board her battery. several other vessels were lying at the wharves; and to these the british set the torch, and continued their march, leaving the roaring flames behind them. a little farther up the delaware, at the point known as crosswise creek, the large privateer "sturdy beggar" was found, together with several smaller craft. the crews had all fled, and the deserted vessels met the fate of the other craft taken by the invaders. then the british turned their steps homeward, and reached philadelphia, after having burned almost a score of vessels, and fired not a single shot. on the high seas during occurred several notable naval engagements. of the more important of these we have spoken in our accounts of the exploits of tucker, biddle, and paul jones. the less important ones must be dismissed with a hasty word. it may be said, that, in general, the naval actions of went against the americans. in february of that year the "alfred" was captured by a british frigate, and the "raleigh" narrowly escaped. in march, the new frigate "virginia," while beating out of chesapeake bay on her very first cruise, ran aground, and was captured by the enemy. in september, the united states frigate "raleigh," when a few days out from boston, fell in with two british vessels,--one a frigate, and the other a ship-of-the-line. capt. barry, whose daring exploits on the delaware we have chronicled, was in command of the "raleigh," and gallantly gave battle to the frigate, which was in the lead. between these two vessels the conflict raged with great fury for upwards of two hours, when the fore-topmast and mizzen top-gallant-mast of the american having been shot away barry attempted to close the conflict by boarding. the enemy kept at a safe distance, however; and his consort soon coming up, the americans determined to seek safety in flight. the enemy pursued, keeping up a rapid fire; and the running conflict continued until midnight. finally barry set fire to his ship, and with the greater part of his crew escaped to the nearest land, an island near the mouth of the penobscot. the british immediately boarded the abandoned ship, extinguished the flames, and carried their prize away in triumph. to offset these reverses to the american arms, there were one or two victories for the americans, aside from those won by paul jones, and the exploits of privateers and colonial armed vessels, which we shall group together in a later chapter. the first of these victories was won by an army officer, who was later transferred to the navy, and won great honor in the naval service. in an inlet of narragansett bay, near newport, the british had anchored a powerful floating battery, made of the dismasted hulk of the schooner "pigot," on which were mounted twelve eight-pounders and ten swivel guns. it was about the time that the fleet sent by france to aid the united states was expected to arrive; and the british had built and placed in position this battery, to close the channel leading to newport. major silas talbot, an army officer who had won renown earlier in the war by a daring but unsuccessful attempt to destroy two british frigates in the hudson river, by means of fire-ships, obtained permission to lead an expedition for the capture of the "pigot." accordingly, with sixty picked men, he set sail from providence in the sloop "hawk," mounting three three-pounders. when within a few miles of the "pigot," he landed, and, borrowing a horse, rode down and reconnoitred the battery. when the night set in, he returned to the sloop, and at once weighed anchor and made for the enemy. as the "hawk" drew near the "pigot," the british sentinels challenged her, and receiving no reply, fired a volley of musketry, which injured no one. on came the "hawk," under a full spread of canvas. a kedge-anchor had been lashed to the end of her bowsprit; and, before the british could reload, this crashed through the boarding-nettings of the "pigot," and caught in the shrouds. the two vessels being fast, the americans, with ringing cheers, ran along the bowsprit, and dropped on the deck of the "pigot." the surprise was complete. the british captain rushed on deck, clad only in his shirt and drawers, and strove manfully to rally his crew. but as the americans, cutlass and pistol in hand, swarmed over the taffrail, the surprised british lost heart, and fled to the hold, until at last the captain found himself alone upon the deck. nothing was left for him but to surrender with the best grace possible; and soon talbot was on his way back to providence, with his prize and a shipful of prisoners. but perhaps the greatest naval event of in american waters was the arrival of the fleet sent by france to co-operate with the american forces. not that any thing of importance was ever accomplished by this naval force: the french officers seemed to find their greatest satisfaction in manoeuvring, reconnoitring, and performing in the most exact and admirable manner all the preliminaries to a battle. having done this, they would sail away, never firing a gun. the yankees were prone to disregard the nice points of naval tactics. their plan was to lay their ships alongside the enemy, and pound away until one side or the other had to yield or sink. but the french allies were strong on tactics, and somewhat weak in dash; and, as a result, there is not one actual combat in which they figured to be recorded. it was a noble fleet that france sent to the aid of the struggling americans,--twelve ships-of-the-line and three frigates. what dashing paul jones would have done, had he ever enjoyed the command of such a fleet, almost passes imagination. certain it is that he would have wasted little time in formal evolutions. but the fleet was commanded by count d'estaing, a french naval officer of honorable reputation. what he accomplished during his first year's cruise in american waters, can be told in a few words. his intention was to trap lord howe's fleet in the delaware, but he arrived too late. he then followed the british to new york, but was baffled there by the fact that his vessels were too heavy to cross the bar. thence he went to newport, where the appearance of his fleet frightened the british into burning four of their frigates, and sinking two sloops-of-war. lord howe, hearing of this, plucked up courage, and, gathering together all his ships, sailed from new york to newport, to give battle to the french. the two fleets were about equally matched. on the th of august the enemies met in the open sea, off newport. for two days they kept out of range of each other, manoeuvring for the weather-gage; that is, the french fleet, being to windward of the british, strove to keep that position, while the british endeavored to take it from them. the third day a gale arose; and when it subsided the ships were so crippled, that, after exchanging a few harmless broadsides at long range, they withdrew, and the naval battle was ended. such was the record of d'estaing's magnificent fleet during . certainly the americans had little to learn from the representatives of the power that had for years contended with england for the mastery of the seas. chapter xiii. last years of the war. -- disastrous expedition to the penobscot. -- wholesale captures on the newfoundland banks. -- french ships in american waters. -- taking of charleston. -- the "trumbull's" victory and defeat. -- capt. barry and the "alliance." -- close of the war. the year is chiefly known in american naval history as the year in which paul jones did his most brilliant service in the "bon homme richard." the glory won by the americans was chiefly gained in european waters. along the coast of the united states, there were some dashing actions; but the advantage generally remained with the british. perhaps the most notable naval event of this year, aside from the battle between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis," was the expedition sent by the state of massachusetts against the british post at castine, on the banks of the penobscot river. at this unimportant settlement in the wilds of maine, the british had established a military post, with a garrison of about a thousand men, together with four armed vessels. here they might have been permitted to remain in peace, so far as any danger from their presence was to be apprehended by the people of new england. but the sturdy citizens of massachusetts had boasted, that, since the evacuation of boston, no british soldier had dared to set foot on massachusetts soil; and the news of this invasion caused the people of boston to rise as one man, and demand that the invaders should be expelled. accordingly a joint naval and military expedition was fitted out under authority granted by the legislature of the state. congress detailed the united states frigate "warren," and the sloops-of-war "diligence" and "providence," to head the expedition. the massachusetts cruisers "hazard," "active," and "tyrannicide" represented the regular naval forces of the bay state; and twelve armed vessels belonging to private citizens were hired, to complete the armada. the excitement among seafaring men ran high. every man who had ever swung a cutlass or sighted a gun was anxious to accompany the expedition. ordinarily it was difficult to ship enough men for the navy; now it was impossible to take all the applicants. it is even recorded that the list of common sailors on the armed ship "vengeance" included thirty masters of merchantmen, who waived all considerations of rank, in order that they might join the expedition. to co-operate with the fleet, a military force was thought necessary; and accordingly orders were issued for fifteen hundred of the militia of the district of maine to assemble at townsend. brig.-gen. sullivan was appointed to the command of the land forces, while capt. saltonstall of the "warren" was made commodore of the fleet. punctually on the day appointed the white sails of the american ships were seen by the militiamen at the appointed rendezvous. but when the ships dropped anchor, and the commodore went ashore to consult with the officers of the land forces, he found that but nine hundred of the militiamen had responded to the call. nevertheless, it was determined, after a brief consultation, to proceed with the expedition, despite the sadly diminished strength of the militia battalions. on the d of july, the fleet set sail from the harbor of townsend. it was an extraordinary and impressive spectacle. the shores of the harbor were covered with unbroken forests, save at the lower end where a little hamlet of scarce five hundred people gave a touch of civilization to the wild scene. but the water looked as though the commerce of a dozen cities had centred there. on the placid bosom of the little bay floated forty-four vessels. the tread of men about the capstans, the hoarse shouts of command, the monotonous songs of the sailors, the creaking of cordage, and the flapping of sails gave an unwonted turbulence to the air which seldom bore a sound other than the voices of birds or the occasional blows of a woodman's axe. nineteen vessels-of-war and twenty-five transports imparted to the harbor of townsend an air of life and bustle to which it had been a stranger, and which it has never since experienced. the weather was clear, and the wind fair; so that two days after leaving townsend the fleet appeared before the works of the enemy. standing on the quarter-deck of the "warren," the commodore and the general eagerly scanned the enemy's defences, and after a careful examination were forced to admit that the works they had to carry were no mean specimens of the art of fortification. the river's banks rose almost perpendicularly from the water-side, and on their crest were perched the enemy's batteries, while on a high and precipitous hill was built a fort or citadel. in the river were anchored the four armed vessels. two days were spent by the americans in reconnoitring the enemy's works; and on the th of july the work of disembarking the troops began, under a heavy fire from the enemy's batteries. the "warren" and one of the sloops-of-war endeavored to cover the landing party by attacking the batteries; and a spirited cannonade followed, in which the american flag-ship suffered seriously. at last all the militia, together with three hundred marines, were put on shore, and at once assaulted the batteries. they were opposed by about an equal number of well-drilled scotch regulars, and the battle raged fiercely; the men-of-war in the river covering the advance of the troops by a spirited and well-directed fire. more than once the curving line of men rushed against the fiery front of the british ramparts, and recoiled, shattered by the deadly volleys of the scotch veterans. here and there, in the grass and weeds, the forms of dead men began to be seen. the pitiable spectacle of the wounded, painfully crawling to the rear, began to make the pulse of the bravest beat quicker. but the men of massachusetts, responsive to the voices of their officers, re-formed their shattered ranks, and charged again and again, until at last, with a mighty cheer, they swept over the ramparts, driving the british out. many of the enemy surrendered; more fled for shelter to the fort on the hill. the smoke and din of battle died away. there came a brief respite in the bloody strife. the americans had won the first trick in the bloody game of war. only a short pause followed; then the americans moved upon the fort. but here they found themselves overmatched. against the towering bastions of the fortress they might hurl themselves in vain. the enemy, safe behind its heavy parapets, could mow down their advancing ranks with a cool and deliberate fire. the assailants had already sacrificed more than a hundred men. was it wise now to order an assault that might lead to the loss of twice that number? the hotheads cried out for the immediate storming of the fort; but cooler counsels prevailed, and a siege was decided upon. trenches were dug, the guns in the outlying batteries were turned upon the fort, and the new englanders sat down to wait until the enemy should be starved out or until re-enforcements might be brought from boston. so for three weeks the combatants rested on their arms, glaring at each other over the tops of their breastworks, and now and then exchanging a shot or a casual volley, but doing little in the way of actual hostilities. provisions were failing the british, and they began to feel that they were in a trap from which they could only emerge through a surrender, when suddenly the situation was changed, and the fortunes of war went against the americans. one morning the "tyrannicide," which was stationed on the lookout down the bay, was seen beating up the river, under a full press of sail. signals flying at her fore indicated that she had important news to tell. her anchor had not touched the bottom before a boat pushed off from her side, and made straight for the commodore's flag-ship. reaching the "warren," a lieutenant clambered over the side, and saluted commodore saltonstall on the quarter-deck. "capt. cathcart's compliments, sir," said he, "and five british men-of-war are just entering the bay. the first one appears to be the 'rainbow,' forty-four." here was news indeed. though superior in numbers, the americans were far inferior in weight of metal. after a hasty consultation, it was determined to abandon the siege, and retreat with troops and vessels to the shallow waters of the penobscot, whither the heavy men-of-war of the enemy would be unable to follow them. accordingly the troops were hastily re-embarked, and a hurried flight began, which was greatly accelerated by the appearance of the enemy coming up the river. the chase did not continue long before it became evident the enemy would overhaul the retreating ships. soon he came within range, and opened fire with his bow-guns, in the hopes of crippling one of the american ships. the fire was returned; and for several hours the wooded shores of the penobscot echoed and re-echoed the thunders of the cannonade, as the warring fleets swept up the river. at last the conviction forced itself on the minds of the americans, that for them there was no escape. the british were steadily gaining upon them, and there was no sign of the shoal water in which they had hoped to find a refuge. it would seem that a bold dash might have carried the day for the americans, so greatly did they outnumber their enemies. but this plan does not appear to have suggested itself to capt. saltonstall, who had concentrated all his efforts upon the attempt to escape. when escape proved to be hopeless, his only thought was to destroy his vessels. accordingly his flag-ship, the "warren," was run ashore, and set on fire. the action of the commodore was imitated by the rest of the officers, and soon the banks of the river were lined with blazing vessels. the "hunter," the "hampden," and one transport fell into the hands of the british. the rest of the forty-nine vessels--men-of-war, privateers, and transports--that made up the fleet were destroyed by flames. it must indeed have been a stirring spectacle. the shores of the penobscot river were then a trackless wilderness; the placid bosom of the river itself had seldom been traversed by a heavier craft than the slender birch-bark canoe of the red man; yet here was this river crowded with shipping, the dark forests along its banks lighted up by the glare of twoscore angry fires. through the thickets and underbrush parties of excited men broke their way, seeking for a common point of meeting, out of range of the cannon of the enemy. the british, meantime, were striving to extinguish the flames, but with little success; and before the day ended, little remained of the great massachusetts flotilla, except the three captured ships and sundry heaps of smouldering timber. the hardships of the soldiers and marines who had escaped capture, only to find themselves lost in the desolate forest, were of the severest kind. separating into parties they plodded along, half-starved, with torn and rain-soaked clothing, until finally, footsore and almost perishing, they reached the border settlements, and were aided on their way to boston. the disaster was complete, and for months its depressing effect upon american naval enterprise was observable. in observing the course of naval events in , it is noticeable that the most effective work was done by the cruisers sent out by the individual states, or by privateers. the united states navy, proper, did little except what was done in european waters by paul jones. indeed, along the american coast, a few cruises in which no actions of moment occurred, although several prizes were taken, make up the record of naval activity for the year. the first of these cruises was that made in april by the ships "warren," "queen of france," and "ranger." they sailed from boston, and were out but a few days when they captured a british privateer of fourteen guns. from one of the sailors on this craft it was learned that a large fleet of transports and storeships had just sailed from new york, bound for georgia. crowding on all sail, the americans set out in pursuit, and off cape henry overhauled the chase. two fleets were sighted, one to windward numbering nine sail, and one to leeward made up of ten sail. the pursuers chose the fleet to windward for their prey, and by sharp work succeeded in capturing seven vessels in eight hours. two of the ships were armed cruisers of twenty-nine and sixteen guns respectively, and all the prizes were heavy laden with provisions, ammunition, and cavalry accoutrements. all were safely taken into port. in june, another fleet of united states vessels left boston in search of british game. the "queen of france" and the "ranger" were again employed; but the "warren" remained in port, fitting out for her ill-fated expedition to the penobscot. her place was taken by the "providence," thirty-two. for a time the cruisers fell in with nothing of importance. but one day about the middle of july, as the three vessels lay hove to off the banks of newfoundland, in the region of perpetual fog, the dull booming of a signal gun was heard. nothing was to be seen on any side. from the quarter-deck, and from the cross-trees alike, the eager eyes of the officers and seamen strove in vain to penetrate the dense curtain of gray fog that shut them in. but again the signal gun sounded, then another; and tone and direction alike told that the two reports had not come from the same cannon. then a bell was heard telling the hour,--another, still another; then a whole chorus of bells. clearly a large fleet was shut in the fog. [illustration: shortening sail on the "lancaster"--the oldest u. s. cruiser in commission.] about eleven o'clock in the morning the fog lifted, and to their intense surprise the crew of the "queen of france" found themselves close alongside of a large merchant-ship. as the fog cleared away more completely, ships appeared on every side; and the astonished yankees found themselves in the midst of a fleet of about one hundred and fifty sail under convoy of a british ship-of-the-line, and several frigates and sloops-of-war. luckily the united states vessels had no colors flying, and nothing about them to betray their nationality: so capt. rathburn of the "queen" determined to try a little masquerading. bearing down upon the nearest merchantman, he hailed her; and the following conversation ensued,-- "what fleet is this?" "british merchantmen from jamaica, bound for london. who are you?" "his majesty's ship 'arethusa,'" answered rathburn boldly, "from halifax on cruise. have you seen any yankee privateers?" "ay, ay, sir," was the response. "several have been driven out of the fleet." "come aboard the 'arethusa,' then. i wish to consult with you." soon a boat put off from the side of the merchantman, and a jolly british sea-captain confidently clambered to the deck of the "queen." great was his astonishment to be told that he was a prisoner, and to see his boat's crew brought aboard, and their places taken by american jackies. back went the boat to the british ship; and soon the americans were in control of the craft, without in the least alarming the other vessels, that lay almost within hail. the "queen" then made up to another ship, and captured her in the same manner. but at this juncture commodore whipple, in the "providence," hailed the "queen," and directed rathburn to edge out of the fleet before the british men-of-war should discover his true character. rathburn protested vigorously, pointing out the two vessels he had captured, and urging whipple to follow his example, and capture as many vessels as he could in the same manner. finally whipple overcame his fears, and adopted rathburn's methods, with such success that shortly after nightfall the americans left the fleet, taking with them eleven rich prizes. eight of these they succeeded in taking safe to boston, where they were sold for more than a million dollars. in may, , occurred two unimportant engagements,--one off sandy hook, in which the united states sloop "providence," ten guns, captured the british sloop "diligent," after a brief but spirited engagement; the second action occurred off st. kitts, where the united states brig "retaliation" successfully resisted a vigorous attack by a british cutter and a brig. the record of the regular navy for the year closed with the cruise of the united states frigates "deane" and "boston," that set sail from the delaware late in the summer. they kept the seas for nearly three months, but made only a few bloodless captures. the next year opened with a great disaster to the american cause. the count d'estaing, after aimlessly wandering up and down the coast of the united states with the fleet ostensibly sent to aid the americans, suddenly took himself and his fleet off to the west indies. sir henry clinton soon learned of the departure of the french, and gathered an expedition for the capture of charleston. on the th of february, clinton with five thousand troops, and a british fleet under admiral arbuthnot, appeared off edisto inlet, about thirty miles from charleston, and began leisurely preparations for an attack upon the city. had he pushed ahead and made his assault at once, he would have met but little resistance; but his delay of over a month gave the people of charleston time to prepare for a spirited resistance. the approach of the british fleet penned up in charleston harbor several united states men-of-war and armed vessels, among them the "providence," "queen of france," "boston," "ranger," "gen. moultrie," and "notre dame." these vessels took an active part in the defence of the harbor against arbuthnot's fleet, but were beaten back. the "queen," the "gen. moultrie," and the "notre dame" were then sunk in the channel to obstruct the progress of the enemy; their guns being taken ashore, and mounted in the batteries on the sea-wall. then followed days of terror for charleston. the land forces of the enemy turned siege guns on the unhappy city, and a constant bombardment was kept up from the hostile fleet. fort sumter, the batteries along the water front, and the ships remaining to the americans answered boldly. but the defence was hopeless. the city was hemmed in by an iron cordon. the hot-shot of the enemy's batteries were falling in the streets, and flames were breaking out in all parts of the town. while the defence lasted, the men-of-war took an active part in it; and, indeed, the sailors were the last to consent to a surrender. so noticeable was the activity of the frigate "boston" in particular, that, when it became evident that the americans could hold out but a little longer, admiral arbuthnot sent her commander a special order to surrender. "i do not think much of striking my flag to your present force," responded bluff samuel tucker, who commanded the "boston;" "for i have struck more of your flags than are now flying in this harbor." but, despite this bold defiance, the inevitable capitulation soon followed. charleston fell into the hands of the british; and with the city went the three men-of-war, "providence," "boston," and "ranger." it will be noticed that this disaster was the direct result of the disappearance of count d'estaing and the french fleet. to the student of history who calmly considers the record of our french naval allies in the revolution, there appears good reason to believe that their presence did us more harm than good. under de grasse, the french fleet did good service in co-operation with the allied armies in the yorktown campaign; but, with this single exception, no instance can be cited of any material aid rendered by it to the american cause. the united states navy, indeed, suffered on account of the french alliance; for despite the loss of many vessels in and , congress refused to increase the navy in any way, trusting to france to care for america's interests on the seas. the result of this policy was a notable falling-off in the number and spirit of naval actions. the ship "trumbull," twenty-eight, one of the exploits of which we have already chronicled, saw a good deal of active service during the last two years of the war; and though she finally fell into the hands of the enemy, it was only because the odds against her were not to be overcome by the most spirited resistance. it was on the d of june, , that the "trumbull," while cruising far out in the atlantic ocean in the path of british merchantmen bound for the west indies, sighted a strange sail hull down to windward. the "trumbull" was then in command of capt. james nicholson, an able and plucky officer. immediately on hearing the report of the lookout, nicholson ordered all the canvas furled, in order that the stranger might not catch sight of the "trumbull." it is, of course, obvious that a ship under bare poles is a far less conspicuous object upon the ocean, than is the same ship with her yards hung with vast clouds of snowy canvas. but apparently the stranger sighted the "trumbull," and had no desire to avoid her; for she bore down upon the american ship rapidly, and showed no desire to avoid a meeting. seeing this, nicholson made sail, and was soon close to the stranger. as the two ships drew closer together, the stranger showed her character by firing three guns, and hoisting the british colors. seeing an action impending, nicholson called his crew aft and harangued them, as was the custom before going into battle. it was not a promising outlook for the american ship. she was but recently out of port, and was manned largely by "green hands." the privateers had so thoroughly stripped the decks of able seamen, that the "trumbull" had to ship men who knew not one rope from another; and it is even said, that, when the drums beat to quarters the day of the battle, many of the sailors were suffering from the landsman's terror, seasickness. but what they lacked in experience, they made up in enthusiasm. with the british flag at the peak, the "trumbull" bore down upon the enemy. but the stranger was not to be deceived by so hackneyed a device. he set a private signal, and, as the americans did not answer it, let fly a broadside at one hundred yards distance. the "trumbull" responded with spirit, and the stars and stripes went fluttering to the peak in the place of the british ensign. then the thunder of battle continued undiminished for two hours and a half. the wind was light, and the vessels rode on an even keel nearly abreast of each other, and but fifty yards apart. at times their yard-arms interlocked; and still the heavy broadsides rang out, and the flying shot crashed through beam and stanchion, striking down the men at their guns, and covering the decks with blood. twice the flying wads of heavy paper from the enemy's guns set the "trumbull" a-fire, and once the british ship was endangered by the same cause. at last the fire of the enemy slackened, and the americans, seeing victory within their grasp, redoubled their efforts; but at this critical moment one of the gun-deck officers came running to nicholson, with the report that the main-mast had been repeatedly hit by the enemy's shot, and was now tottering. if the main-mast went by the board, the fate of the "trumbull" was sealed. crowding sail on the other masts, the "trumbull" shot ahead, and was soon out of the line of fire, the enemy being apparently too much occupied with his own injuries to molest her. hardly had she gone the distance of a musket-shot, when her main and mizzen top-masts went by the board; and before the nimble jackies could cut away the wreck the other spars followed, until nothing was left but the foremast. when the crashing and confusion was over, the "trumbull" lay a pitiable wreck, and an easy prey for her foe. but the briton showed a strange disinclination to take advantage of the opportunity. the yankee sailors worked like mad in cutting away the wreck; then rushed to their guns, ready to make a desperate, if hopeless, resistance in case of an attack. but the attack never came. without even a parting shot the enemy went off on her course; and before she was out of sight her main topmast was seen to fall, showing that she too had suffered in the action. not for months after did the crew of the "trumbull" learn the name of the vessel they had fought. at last it was learned that she was a heavy letter-of-marque, the "watt." her exact weight of metal has never been ascertained, though capt. nicholson estimated it at thirty-four or thirty-six guns. the "trumbull" mounted thirty-six guns. the captain of the "watt" reported his loss to have been ninety-two in killed and wounded; the loss of the "trumbull" amounted to thirty-nine, though two of her lieutenants were among the slain. this action, in severity, ranked next to the famous naval duel between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis." as the "trumbull" fought her last battle under the flag of the united states a year later, and as our consideration of the events of the revolution is drawing to a close, we may abandon chronological order, and follow nicholson and his good ship to the end of their career. in august, , the "trumbull" left the delaware, convoying twenty-eight merchantmen, and accompanied by one privateer. again her crew was weakened by the scarcity of good seamen, and this time nicholson had adopted the dangerous and indefensible expedient of shipping british prisoners-of-war. there were fifty of these renegades in the crew; and naturally, as they were ready to traitorously abandon their own country, they were equally ready for treachery to the flag under which they sailed. there were many instances during the revolution of united states ships being manned largely by british prisoners. usually the crews thus obtained were treacherous and insubordinate. even if it had been otherwise, the custom was a bad one, and repugnant to honorable men. so with a crew half-trained and half-disaffected, the "trumbull" set out to convoy a fleet of merchantmen through waters frequented by british men-of-war. hardly had she passed the capes when three british cruisers were made out astern. one, a frigate, gave chase. night fell, and in the darkness the "trumbull" might have escaped with her charges, but that a violent squall struck her, carrying away her fore-topmast and main-top-gallant-mast. her convoy scattered in all directions, and by ten o'clock the british frigate had caught up with the disabled american. the night was still squally, with bursts of rain and fitful flashes of lightning, which lighted up the decks of the american ship as she tossed on the waves. the storm had left her in a sadly disabled condition. the shattered top hamper had fallen forward, cumbering up the forecastle, and so tangling the bow tackle that the jibs were useless. the foresail was jammed and torn by the fore-topsail-yard. there was half a day's work necessary to clear away the wreck, and the steadily advancing lights of the british ship told that not half an hour could be had to prepare for the battle. there was no hope that resistance could be successful, but the brave hearts of nicholson and his officers recoiled from the thought of tamely striking the flag without firing a shot. so the drummers were ordered to beat the crew to quarters; and soon, by the light of the battle-lanterns, the captains of the guns were calling over the names of the sailors. the roll-call had proceeded but a short time when it became evident that most of the british renegades were absent from their stations. the officers and marines went below to find them. while they were absent, others of the renegades, together with about half of the crew whom they had tainted with their mutinous plottings, put out the battle-lanterns, and hid themselves deep in the hold. at this moment the enemy came up, and opened fire. determined to make some defence, nicholson sent the few faithful jackies to the guns, and the officers worked side by side with the sailors. the few guns that were manned were served splendidly, and the unequal contest was maintained for over an hour, when a second british man-of-war came up, and the "trumbull" was forced to strike. at no time had more than forty of her people been at the guns. to this fact is due the small loss of life; for, though the ship was terribly cut up, only five of her crew were killed, and eleven wounded. the frigate that had engaged the "trumbull" was the "iris," formerly the "hancock" captured from the americans by the "rainbow." she was one of the largest of the american frigates, while the "trumbull" was one of the smallest. the contest, therefore, would have been unequal, even had not so many elements of weakness contributed to the "trumbull's" discomfiture. taking up again the thread of our narrative of the events of , we find that for three months after the action between the "trumbull" and the "watt" there were no naval actions of moment. not until october did a united states vessel again knock the tompions from her guns, and give battle to an enemy. during that month the cruiser "saratoga" fell in with a hostile armed ship and two brigs. the action that followed was brief, and the triumph of the americans complete. one broadside was fired by the "saratoga;" then, closing with her foe, she threw fifty men aboard, who drove the enemy below. but the gallant americans were not destined to profit by the results of their victory; for, as they were making for the delaware, the british seventy-four "intrepid" intercepted them, and recaptured all the prizes. the "saratoga" escaped capture, only to meet a sadder fate; for, as she never returned to port, it is supposed that she foundered with all on board. the autumn and winter passed without any further exploits on the part of the navy. the number of the regular cruisers had been sadly diminished, and several were kept blockaded in home ports. along the american coast the british cruisers fairly swarmed; and the only chance for the few yankee ships afloat was to keep at sea as much as possible, and try to intercept the enemy's privateers, transports, and merchantmen, on their way across the ocean. one united states frigate, and that one a favorite ship in the navy, was ordered abroad in february, , and on her voyage did some brave work for her country. this vessel was the "alliance," once under the treacherous command of the eccentric landais, and since his dismissal commanded by capt. john barry, of whose plucky fight in the "raleigh" we have already spoken. the "alliance" sailed from boston, carrying an army officer on a mission to france. she made the voyage without sighting an enemy. having landed her passenger, she set out from l'orient, with the "lafayette," forty, in company. the two cruised together for three days, capturing two heavy privateers. they then parted, and the "alliance" continued her cruise alone. on the th of may the lookout reported two sail in sight; and soon the strangers altered their course, and bore down directly upon the american frigate. it was late in the afternoon, and darkness set in before the strangers were near enough for their character to be made out. at dawn all eyes on the "alliance" scanned the ocean in search of the two vessels, which were then easily seen to be a sloop-of-war and a brig. over each floated the british colors. a dead calm rested upon the waters. canvas was spread on all the ships, but flapped idly against the yards. not the slightest motion could be discerned, and none of the ships had steerage-way. the enemy had evidently determined to fight; for before the sun rose red and glowing from beneath the horizon, sweeps were seen protruding from the sides of the two ships, and they gradually began to lessen the distance between them and the american frigate. capt. barry had no desire to avoid the conflict; though in a calm, the lighter vessels, being manageable with sweeps, had greatly the advantage of the "alliance," which could only lie like a log upon the water. six hours of weary work with the sweeps passed before the enemy came near enough to hail. the usual questions and answers were followed by the roar of the cannon, and the action began. the prospects for the "alliance" were dreary indeed; for the enemy took positions on the quarters of the helpless ship, and were able to pour in broadsides, while she could respond only with a few of her aftermost guns. but, though the case looked hopeless, the americans fought on, hoping that a wind might spring up, that would give the good ship "alliance" at least a fighting chance. as barry strode the quarter-deck, watching the progress of the fight, encouraging his men, and looking out anxiously for indications of a wind, a grape-shot struck him in the shoulder, and felled him to the deck. he was on his feet again in an instant; and though weakened by the pain, and the rapid flow of blood from the wound, he remained on deck. at last, however, he became too weak to stand, and was carried below. at this moment a flying shot carried away the american colors; and, as the fire of the "alliance" was stopped a moment for the loading of the guns, the enemy thought the victory won, and cheered lustily. but their triumph was of short duration; for a new ensign soon took the place of the vanished one, and the fire of the "alliance" commenced again. the "alliance" was now getting into sore straits. the fire of the enemy had told heavily upon her, and her fire in return had done but little visible damage. as capt. barry lay on his berth, enfeebled by the pain of his wound, and waiting for the surgeon's attention, a lieutenant entered. "the ship remains unmanageable, sir," said he. "the rigging is badly cut up, and there is danger that the fore-topmast may go by the board. the enemy's fire is telling on the hull, and the carpenter reports two leaks. eight or ten of the people are killed, and several officers wounded. have we your consent to striking the colors?" "no, sir," roared out barry, sitting bolt upright. "and, if this ship can't be fought without me, i will be carried on deck." the lieutenant returned with his report; and, when the story became known to the crew, the jackies cheered for their dauntless commander. "we'll stand by the old man, lads," said one of the petty officers. "ay, ay, that we will! we'll stick to him right manfully," was the hearty response. but now affairs began to look more hopeful for the "alliance." far away a gentle rippling of the water rapidly approaching the ship gave promise of wind. the quick eye of an old boatswain caught sight of it. "a breeze, a breeze!" he cried; and the jackies took up the shout, and sprang to their stations at the ropes, ready to take advantage of the coming gust. soon the breeze arrived, the idly flapping sails filled out, the helmsman felt the responsive pressure of the water as he leaned upon the wheel, the gentle ripple of the water alongside gladdened the ears of the blue-jackets, the ship keeled over to leeward, then swung around responsive to her helm, and the first effective broadside went crashing into the side of the nearest british vessel. after that, the conflict was short. though the enemy had nearly beaten the "alliance" in the calm, they were no match for her when she was able to manoeuvre. their resistance was plucky; but when capt. barry came on deck, with his wound dressed, he was just in time to see the flags of both vessels come fluttering to the deck. the two prizes proved to be the "atlanta" sixteen, and the "trepassy" fourteen. both were badly cut up, and together had suffered a loss of forty-one men in killed and wounded. on the "alliance" were eleven dead, and twenty-one wounded. as the capture of the two vessels threw about two hundred prisoners into the hands of the americans, and as the "alliance" was already crowded with captives, capt. barry made a cartel of the "trepassy," and sent her into an english port with all the prisoners. the "atlanta" he manned with a prize crew, and sent to boston; but she unluckily fell in with a british cruiser in massachusetts bay, and was retaken. once more before the cessation of hostilities between great britain and the united states threw her out of commission, did the "alliance" exchange shots with a hostile man-of-war. it was in , when the noble frigate was engaged in bringing specie from the west indies. she had under convoy a vessel loaded with supplies, and the two had hardly left havana when some of the enemy's ships caught sight of them, and gave chase. while the chase was in progress, a fifty-gun ship hove in sight, and was soon made out to be a french frigate. feeling that he had an ally at hand, barry now wore ship, and attacked the leading vessel, and a spirited action followed, until the enemy, finding himself hard pressed, signalled for his consorts, and barry, seeing that the french ship made no sign of coming to his aid, drew off. irritated by the failure of the french frigate to come to his assistance, barry bore down upon her and hailed. the french captain declared that the manoeuvres of the "alliance" and her antagonist had made him suspect that the engagement was only a trick to draw him into the power of the british fleet. he had feared that the "alliance" had been captured, and was being used as a decoy; but now that the matter was made clear to him, he would join the "alliance" in pursuit of the enemy. this he did; but barry soon found that the fifty was so slow a sailer, that the "alliance" might catch up with the british fleet, and be knocked to pieces by their guns, before the frenchman could get within range. accordingly he abandoned the chase in disgust, and renewed his homeward course. some years later, an american gentleman travelling in europe met the british naval officer who commanded the frigate which barry had engaged. this officer, then a vice-admiral, declared that he had never before seen a ship so ably fought as was the "alliance," and acknowledged that the presence of his consorts alone saved him a drubbing. this engagement was the last fought by the "alliance" during the revolution, and with it we practically complete our narrative of the work of the regular navy during that war. one slight disaster to the american cause alone remains to be mentioned. the "confederacy," a thirty-two-gun frigate built in , was captured by the enemy in . she was an unlucky ship, having been totally dismasted on her first cruise, and captured by an overwhelming force on her second. though this chapter completes the story of the regular navy during the revolution, there remain many important naval events to be described in an ensuing chapter. the work of the ships fitted out by congress was aided greatly by the armed cruisers furnished by individual states, and privateers. some of the exploits of these crafts and some desultory maritime hostilities we shall describe in the next chapter. and if the story of the united states navy, as told in these few chapters, seems a record of events trivial as compared with the gigantic naval struggles of and , it must be remembered that not only were naval architecture and ordnance in their infancy in , but that the country was young, and its sailors unused to the ways of war. but that country, young as it was, produced paul jones; and it is to be questioned whether any naval war since has brought forth a braver or nobler naval officer, or one more skilled in the handling of a single ship-of-war. the result of the war of the revolution is known to all. a new nation was created by it. these pages will perhaps convince their readers that to the navy was due somewhat the creation of that nation. and if to-day, in its power and might, the united states seems inclined to throw off the navy and belittle its importance, let the memory of paul jones and his colleagues be conjured up, to awaken the old enthusiasm over the triumphs of the stars and stripes upon the waves. chapter xiv. work of the privateers. -- the "gen. hancock" and the "levant." -- exploits of the "pickering." -- the "revenge." -- the "holkar." -- the "congress" and the "savage." -- the "hyder ali" and the "gen. monk." -- the whale-boat hostilities. -- the old jersey prison-ship. to chronicle in full the myriad exploits and experiences of the privateers and armed cruisers in the service of individual states during the revolution, would require a volume thrice the size of this. moreover, it is difficult and well-nigh impossible to obtain authentic information regarding the movements of this class of armed craft. an immense number of anecdotes of their prowess is current, and some few such narratives will be repeated in this chapter; but, as a rule, they are based only upon tradition, or the imperfect and often incorrect reports in the newspapers of the day. the loss inflicted upon great britain by the activity of american privateers was colossal. for the first year of the war the continental congress was unwilling to take so belligerent a step as to encourage privateering; but, in the summer of , the issuing of letters of marque and reprisal was begun, and in a short time all new england had gone to privateering. the ocean fairly swarmed with trim yankee schooners and brigs, and in the two years that followed nearly eight hundred merchantmen were taken. discipline on the privateers was lax, and the profits of a successful cruise were enormous. often a new speedy craft paid her whole cost of construction on her first cruise. the sailors fairly revelled in money at the close of such a cruise; and, like true jack-tars, they made their money fly as soon as they got ashore. a few days would generally suffice to squander all the earnings of a two-months' cruise; and, penniless but happy, jack would ship for another bout with fortune. a volume could be written dealing with the exploits of the privateers, but for our purpose a few instances of their dash and spirit will be enough. though the purpose of the privateers was purely mercenary, their chief end and aim being to capture defenceless merchantmen, yet they were always ready to fight when fighting was necessary, and more than once made a good showing against stronger and better disciplined naval forces. in many cases audacity and dash more than made up for the lack of strength. in two american privateers hung about the british isles, making captures, and sending their prizes into french ports. the exploits of paul jones were equalled by these irregular cruisers. one of them, being in need of provisions, put into the little irish port of beerhaven, and lay at anchor for ten hours, while her crew scoured the town in search of the needed stores. a second privateer boldly entered a harbor on the island of guernsey. a castle at the entrance of the harbor opened fire upon her, whereupon she came about, and, keeping out of range of the castle guns, captured a large brig that was making for the port. when night fell, the privateer sent a boat's crew ashore, and took captive two officers of the local militia. in occurred an action between a private armed ship and a british frigate, in which the privateer was signally successful. on the th of september of that year, the "gen. hancock," a stout-built, well armed and manned privateer, fell in with the "levant," a british frigate of thirty-two guns. the "hancock" made no attempt to avoid a conflict, and opened with a broadside without answering the enemy's hail. the action was stubbornly contested upon both sides. after an hour of fighting, the captain of the yankee ship, peering through the smoke, saw that the colors no longer waved above his adversary. "have you struck?" he shouted. "no. fire away," came the response faintly through the roar of the cannon. two hours longer the combat raged, with the ships lying yard-arm to yard-arm. a ball struck capt. hardy of the "hancock" in the neck, and he was carried below, while the first lieutenant took command of the ship. a few minutes later there arose a deafening roar and blinding flash; a terrific shock threw the men on the american ship to the deck. stifling smoke darkened the atmosphere; and pieces of timber, cordage, and even horribly torn bits of human flesh began to fall upon the decks. when the smoke cleared away, the americans looked eagerly for their enemy. where she had floated a minute or two before, was now a shattered, blackened hulk fast sinking beneath the waves. the surface of the sea for yards around was strewn with wreckage, and here and there men could be seen struggling for life. as ready to save life as they had been to destroy it, the americans lowered their boats and pulled about, picking up the survivors of the explosion. the boatswain of the ill-fated ship and seventeen of the crew were thus saved, but more than fourscore brave fellows went down with her. the american vessel herself was damaged not a little by the violence of the explosion. this was not the only case during this year in which a british man-of-war met defeat at the guns of a yankee privateer. the "hinchinbrooke," sloop-of-war fourteen; the "york," tender twelve; and the "enterprise," ten guns,--all struck their colors to private armed vessels flying the stars and stripes. by the privateers under the british flag were afloat in no small number. america had no commerce on which they might prey, and they looked forward only to recapturing those british vessels that had been taken by yankee privateers and sent homeward. that so many british vessels should have found profitable employment in this pursuit, is in itself a speaking tribute to the activity of the american private armed navy. during the revolution, as during the second war with great britain in , salem, mass., and baltimore, md., were the principal points from which privateers hailed. in all the early wars of the united states, the term "salem privateer" carried with it a picture of a fleet schooner, manned with a picked crew of able seamen, commanded by a lanky yankee skipper who knew the byways of old ocean as well as the highways of trade, armed with eight, four, or six pounders, and a heavy "long tom" amidships. scores of such craft sailed from salem during the revolution; and hardly a week passed without two or three returning privateers entering the little port and discharging their crews, to keep the little village in a turmoil until their prize money was spent, or, to use the sailors' phrase, until "no shot was left in the locker." one of the most successful of the salem privateers was the "pickering," a craft carrying a battery of sixteen guns, and a crew of forty-seven men. on one cruise she fought an engagement of an hour and a half with a british cutter of twenty guns; and so roughly did she handle the enemy, that he was glad to sheer off. a day of two later, the "pickering" overhauled the "golden eagle," a large schooner of twenty-two guns and fifty-seven men. the action which followed was ended by the schooner striking her flag. a prize crew was then put aboard the "golden eagle," and she was ordered to follow in the wake of her captor. three days later the british sloop-of-war "achilles" hove in sight, and gave chase to the privateer and her prize. after a fifteen hours' chase the prize was overhauled; and the sloop-of-war, after taking possession of her, continued in pursuit of the privateer. but while the privateersmen had preferred flight to fighting while nothing was at stake, they did not propose to let their prize be taken from them without a resistance, however great the odds against them. accordingly they permitted the "achilles" to overhaul them, and a sharp action followed. the british tried to force the combat by boarding; but the americans, with pikes and cutlasses, drove them back to their own ship. then the two vessels separated, and during the rest of the conflict came no nearer each other than the length of a pistol-shot. at this distance they carried on a spirited cannonade for upwards of three hours; when the "achilles," concluding that she had had enough, sheered off. thereupon, the "pickering" coolly ran back to her late prize, took possession of her, captured the lieutenant and prize crew that the "achilles" had put in charge of her, and continued her cruise. a good example of the baltimore privateers was the "revenge," mounting eighteen guns, with a crew of fifty men. in this vessel was commanded by capt. alexander murray of the regular navy. she was engaged by a large number of baltimore merchants to convoy a fleet of merchantmen, but had hardly started to sea with her charges when she fell in with a fleet of british vessels, and was forced to retreat up the patuxent river. while there, the american fleet was strengthened by several privateers and armed merchant-vessels which joined it, so that it was felt safe to try again to get to sea. accordingly the attempt was made; but, though the captains of the fleet had signed a solemn compact to stand together in case of the danger, the sudden appearance of a fleet of hostile armed vessels sent all scurrying up the patuxent again, except one brig and a schooner. the british fleet consisted of a ship of eighteen guns, a brig of sixteen, and three privateer schooners. leaving the schooners to his two faithful consorts, murray threw himself between the two larger vessels and the flying merchantmen. seeing themselves thus balked of their prey, the enemy turned fiercely upon the "revenge," but were met with so spirited a resistance, that they hauled off after an hour's fighting. the other american vessels behaved equally well, and the discomfiture of the british was complete. philadelphia, though not looked upon as a centre of privateering activity, furnished one privateer that made a notable record. this was the "holkar," sixteen guns. in april, , she captured a british schooner of ten guns, and in may of the same year she fought a desperate action with a british privateer brig, the name of which has never been ascertained. twice the briton sheered off to escape the telling fire of the american; but the "holkar" pressed him closely, and only the appearance of a second british armed vessel at the scene of the action saved the englishman from capture. this battle was one of the most sanguinary ever fought by private armed vessels; for of the crew of the "holkar" six were killed and sixteen wounded, including the captain and first lieutenant, while of the enemy there were about the same number killed and twenty wounded. three months later this same privateer fell in with the british sixteen-gun cutter "hypocrite," and captured her after a sharp conflict. perhaps the most audacious privateering exploit was that of the privateers "hero," "hope," and "swallow," in july, . the captains of these craft, meeting after an unprofitable season upon the high seas, conceived the idea of making a descent upon the nova scotian town of lunenberg, some thirty-five miles from halifax. little time was wasted in discussion. privateers are not hampered by official red tape. so it happened that early in the month the three privateers appeared off the harbor of the threatened town, having landed a shore party of ninety men. before the invaders the inhabitants retreated rapidly, making some slight resistance. two block-houses, garrisoned by british regulars, guarded the town. one of these fortresses the americans burned, whereupon the british established themselves in the second, and prepared to stand a siege. luckily for the americans, the block-house was within range of the harbor; so that the three privateers took advantageous positions, and fired a few rounds of solid shot into the enemy's wooden citadel. the besieged then made haste to raise the white flag, and surrendered themselves prisoners-of-war. when the yankee ships left the harbor, they took with them a large quantity of merchandise and provisions, and a thousand pounds sterling by way of ransom. one more conflict, in which the irregular naval forces of the united states did credit to themselves, must be described before dismissing the subject of privateering. in september, , the british sloop-of-war "savage" was cruising off the southern coast of the united states. her officers and men were in a particularly good humor, and felt a lively sense of self-satisfaction; for they had just ascended the potomac, and plundered gen. washington's estate,--an exploit which would make them heroes in the eyes of their admiring countrymen. off charleston the "savage" encountered the american privateer "congress," of about the same strength as herself,--twenty guns and one hundred and fifty men. in one respect the "congress" was the weaker; for her crew was composed largely of landsmen, and her marines were a company of militia, most of whom were sadly afflicted with seasickness. nevertheless, the yankee craft rushed boldly into action, opening fire with her bow-chasers as soon as she came within range. like two savage bull-dogs, the two ships rushed at each other, disdaining all manoeuvring, and seemingly intent only upon locking in a deadly struggle, yard-arm to yard-arm. at first the "savage" won a slight advantage. swinging across the bow of the "congress," she raked her enemy twice. but soon the two ships lay side by side, and the thunder of the cannon was constant. the militia-marines on the "congress" did good service. stationed in the tops, on the forecastle, the quarter-deck, and every elevated place on the ship, they poured down upon the deck of the enemy a murderous fire. the jackies at the great guns poured in broadsides so well directed that soon the "savage" had not a rope left with which to manage the sails. her quarter-deck was cleared, and not a man was to be seen to serve as a mark for the american gunners. so near lay the two vessels to each other, that the fire from the guns scorched the gunners on the opposite ship. the antagonists were inextricably entangled; for the mizzen-mast of the "savage" had been shot away, and had fallen into the after-rigging of the "congress." there was no flight for the weaker vessel. when she could no longer fight, surrender was her only recourse. neither vessel showed any colors, for both ensigns had been shot away early in the action. accordingly, when the boatswain of the "savage" was seen upon the forecastle wildly waving his arms, it was taken as an evidence of surrender; and the fire slackened until his voice could be heard. "give us quarter," he cried hoarsely; "we are a wreck, and strike our flag." the firing then ceased; but, when the lieutenant of the "congress" ordered a boat lowered in which to board the prize, the old boatswain came back with the report,-- "boats all knocked to pieces, sir. couldn't find one that would float." accordingly the two vessels had to be slowly drawn together, and the boarding party reached the deck of the prize by clambering over a spar which served as a bridge. when they reached the prize, they found her decks covered with dead and wounded men. the slaughter had been terrible. twenty-three men were killed, and thirty-one wounded. on the "congress" were thirty, killed and wounded together. one of the wounded americans was found lying with his back braced against the foot of the bowsprit, cheering for the victory, and crying,-- "if they have broken my legs, my hands and heart are still whole." throughout this sanguinary action both parties showed the greatest courage and determination. two vessels of the two most perfectly organized regular navies in the world could not have been better handled, nor could they have more stubbornly contested for the victory. a class of armed vessels outside the limits of the regular navy, but very active and efficient in the service of the country, was the maritime forces of the individual states. before congress had seen the necessity for a naval force, several of the colonies had been alive to the situation, and fitted out cruisers of their own. even after the revolution had developed into a war of the first magnitude, and after the colonies had assumed the title of states, and delegated to congress the duty of providing for the common defence, they still continued to fit out their own men-of-war to protect their ports and act as convoys for their merchant fleets. though vessels in this service seldom cruised far from the coast of their home colony, yet occasionally they met the vessels of the enemy, and many sharp actions were fought by them. of all the actions fought by the state cruisers, the most hotly contested was that between the pennsylvania cruiser "hyder ali," and the british sloop-of-war "gen. monk." the "hyder ali" was a merchantman, bought by the state just as she was about departing on a voyage to the west indies. she was in no way calculated for a man-of-war; but the need was pressing, and she was pierced for eight ports on a side, and provided with a battery of six-pounders. the command of this vessel was given to joshua barney, a young officer with an extensive experience of yankee privateers and british prisons, and whose later exploits in the united states navy are familiar to readers of "blue-jackets of ." barney's instructions were, not to go to sea, but to patrol the delaware river and bay, and see that no privateer lay in wait for the merchant-vessels that cleared from the port of philadelphia. in april, , the "hyder ali" stood down delaware bay at the head of a large fleet of outward-bound merchantmen. when cape may was reached, strong head-winds sprang up, and the whole fleet anchored to await more favorable weather before putting out to sea. while they lay at anchor, the "hyder ali" sighted a trio of british vessels, two ships and a brig, rounding the cape. instantly barney signalled his convoy to trip anchor and retreat, a signal which was promptly obeyed by all save one too daring craft, that tried to slip round the cape, and get to sea, but fell into the hands of the enemy. soon the whole fleet, with the "hyder ali" bringing up the rear, fled up the bay. the british followed in hot pursuit. at a point half-way up the bay the pursuers parted; one of the ships, a frigate, cutting through a side channel in the hope of intercepting the fugitives. the other two pursuers, a privateer brig and a sloop-of-war, continued in the wake of the "hyder ali." the brig proved herself a clipper, and soon came up with the american vessel, which promptly offered battle. the challenge was declined by the privateer, which fired a harmless broadside, and continued on up the bay. barney let her pass, for he had determined to risk the dangers of an unequal combat with the sloop-of-war. this vessel came up rapidly; and as she drew near barney luffed up suddenly, and let fly a broadside. this somewhat staggered the enemy, who had expected only a tame surrender; but she quickly recovered, and came boldly on. at this juncture barney turned to his helmsman, and said,-- "now, when i give the word, pay no attention to my order, but put the helm hard-a-starboard. pay no heed to the actual command i may give you." the british vessel was then within half pistol-shot, and her forward guns were beginning to bear. from his station on the quarter-deck barney shouted to his steersman in stentorian tones,-- "port your helm. hard-a-port." the order was clearly heard on board the enemy, and he prepared to manoeuvre his ship accordingly. but the steersman of the "hyder ali" remembered his instructions; and before the enemy discovered the ruse, the american ship lay athwart the other's bow, and the bowsprit of the enemy was caught in the "hyder ali's" rigging, giving the latter a raking position. quickly the yankee gunners seized the opportunity. not five miles away was a british frigate ready to rush to the assistance of her consort, and whatever was to be done by the bold lads of pennsylvania had to be done with expedition. no cheer rose from their ranks; but with grim determination they worked at the great guns, pouring in rapid and effective broadsides. the explosions of the two batteries were like the deafening peals of thunder echoed and re-echoed in some mountain-gorge. smoke hid the vessels from sight, and the riflemen in the tops could only occasionally catch sight of the figures of the enemy. the enemy had twenty guns to barney's sixteen; but he was out-manoeuvred at the start, and this disadvantage he never overcame. half an hour from the time of the opening of the battle, his flag was struck, and the americans, with lusty cheers, took possession of their prize. there was no time for ceremony. the frigate had seen the conflict from afar, and was bearing down upon the two antagonists. so without even asking the name of the captured vessel, barney hastily threw a prize crew aboard, ordered her to proceed to philadelphia, and himself remained behind to cover the retreat. some hours later, having escaped the british frigate, the two vessels sailed up to a philadelphia wharf. the scars of battle had been in no way healed: the tattered sails, the shattered hulls and bulwarks, the cordage hanging loosely from the masts, told the story of battle. the crowd that rushed to the wharf, and peered curiously about the decks of the two vessels, saw a ghastly and horrible sight. for the battle had been as sanguinary as it was spirited, and the dead still lay where they fell. on the british vessel, the "gen. monk," lay the lifeless bodies of twenty men; while twenty-six wounded, whose blood stained the deck, lay groaning in the cock-pit below. on the "hyder ali" were four killed and eleven wounded. this action, for steadiness and brilliancy, was not surpassed by any naval duel of the war of the revolution. by it the name of joshua barney was put upon a plane with those of the most eminent commanders in the regular navy; and had not the war speedily terminated, he would have been granted a commission and a ship by the united states. while the chief naval events of the war for independence have now been recounted, there still remain certain incidents connected more or less closely with the war on the water, which deserve a passing mention. one of these is the curious desultory warfare carried on in and about new york harbor by fishermen and longshoremen in whale-boats, dories, sharpies, and similar small craft. from until the close of the war, new york city and the region bordering upon the harbor were occupied by the british. provisions were needed for their support, and were brought from connecticut and new jersey in small sailing craft, chiefly whale-boats. these boats the patriots often intercepted, and desperate encounters upon the water were frequent. nor did the yankee boatmen confine their attacks to the provision boats alone. in the summer of the british transport "blue mountain valley" was captured by a band of hardy jerseymen, who concealed themselves in the holds of four small sail-boats until fairly alongside the enemy's vessel, when they swarmed out and drove the british from the deck of their vessel. two new jersey fishermen, adam hyler and william marriner, were particularly active in this class of warfare. twice the british sent armed forces to capture them, and, failing in that, burned their boats. but the sturdy patriots were undaunted, and building new boats, waged a relentless war against the followers of king george. every tory that fished in the bay was forced to pay them tribute; and many of these gentry, so obnoxious to the yankees, were visited in their homes at dead of night, and solemnly warned to show more moderation in their disapproval of the american cause. when the occasion offered, the two jerseymen gathered armed bands, and more than one small british vessel fell a prey to their midnight activity. two british corvettes were captured by them in coney island bay, and burned to the water's edge. with one of the blazing vessels forty thousand dollars in specie was destroyed,--a fact that hyler bitterly lamented when he learned of it. no narrative of the events of the revolution would be complete, without some description of the floating prison-houses in which the british immured the hapless soldiers and sailors who fell into their hands. of these the chief one was a dismasted hulk known as the "old jersey" prison-ship, and moored in wallabout bay near new york city. no pen can adequately describe the horrors of this prison; but some extracts from the published recollections of men once imprisoned in her noisome hold will give some idea of the miserable fate of those condemned to be imprisoned on her. thomas andros, a sailor taken by the british with the privateer "fair american," writes of the "old jersey:" "this was an old sixty-four-gun ship, which, through age, had become unfit for further actual service. she was stripped of every spar and all her rigging. after a battle with a french fleet, her lion figure-head was taken away to repair another ship. no appearance of ornament was left, and nothing remained but an old unsightly rotten hulk; and doubtless no other ship in the british navy ever proved the means of the destruction of so many human beings. it is computed that no less than eleven thousand american seamen perished in her. when i first became an inmate of this abode of suffering, despair, and death, there were about four hundred prisoners on board; but in a short time they amounted to twelve hundred. in a short time we had two hundred or more sick and dying lodged in the forepart of the lower gun-deck, where all the prisoners were confined at night. utter derangement was a common symptom of yellow-fever; and to increase the horror of the darkness that surrounded us (for we were allowed no light between decks), the voice of warning would be heard, 'take heed to yourselves. there is a madman stalking through the ship with a knife in his hand,' i sometimes found the man a corpse in the morning, by whose side i laid myself down at night. in the morning the hatchways were thrown open; and we were allowed to ascend on the upper deck all at once, and remain on the upper deck all day. but the first object that met our view in the morning was an appalling spectacle,--a boat loaded with dead bodies, conveying them to the long island shore, where they were very slightly covered." ebenezer fox, another privateersman, has left his recollections of this dreadful prison. his description of the food upon which the unhappy prisoners were forced to subsist is interesting:-- "our bill of fare was as follows: on sunday, one pound of biscuit, one pound of pork, and half a pint of pease; monday, one pound of biscuit, one pint of oatmeal, and two ounces of butter; tuesday, one pound of biscuit, and two pounds of salt beef; wednesday, one and a half pounds of flour, and two ounces of suet; thursday was a repetition of sunday's fare; friday, of monday's; and saturday, of tuesday's. "if this food had been of good quality and properly cooked, as we had no labor to perform, it would have kept us comfortable, at least from suffering; but this was not the case. all our food appeared to be damaged. as for the pork, we were cheated out of it more than half the time; and when it was obtained, one would have judged from its motley hues, exhibiting the consistence and appearance of variegated fancy soap, that it was the flesh of the porpoise or sea-hog, and had been an inhabitant of the ocean rather than of the stye. the pease were generally damaged, and, from the imperfect manner in which they were cooked, were about as indigestible as grape-shot. the butter the reader will not suppose was the real 'goshen;' and had it not been for its adhesive properties to hold together the particles of the biscuit, that had been so riddled by the worms as to lose all their attraction of cohesion, we should have considered it no desirable addition to our viands." but it is unnecessary to prolong the painful description of the horrors of this floating charnel house. its name and record must ever rest as a dark stain upon the name of england. it is seldom possible in war-time to house and care for the immense hordes of prisoners-of-war with the same regard for their comfort which is shown ordinarily to convicted felons. war is brutal; it is unfeeling, and the weaker party must always suffer. but such sufferings as those of the "old jersey" captives can be excused upon no ground. there was no need to crowd hundreds of men into a space hardly large enough for a few score. to starve her prisoners, should not be part of a great nation's policy. the one plea which england can urge in extenuation of the "old jersey" is that it had its day at a time when those broad principles of humanity, now so generally accepted, had not yet been applied to the rules of war. with this chapter ends the narrative of the naval events of the war of the revolution. it was not a great naval war, for the belligerent nations were not sufficiently well matched in naval strength. but it brought forth paul jones and more than one other brave and able commander. it established a new flag upon the seas, a flag that has ever since held an honorable position among the insignia of the foremost nations of the earth. and in the war of the revolution, as in every war in which the united states has taken part since, there was manifested the wonderful ability of the american people to rush into a conflict half prepared, and gain daily in strength until the cause for which they fight is won. in that cause was liberty, and in its behalf none fought more bravely than the lads who wore the blue jackets of the american navy. chapter xv. the navy disbanded. -- aggressions of barbary corsairs. -- a disgraceful tribute. -- bainbridge and the dey. -- gen. eaton at tunis. a squadron sent to the mediterranean. -- decatur and the spaniards. -- the "enterprise" and the "tripoli." -- american slaves in algiers. peace having been signed with great britain in , the nucleus of a navy then in existence was disbanded. partly this was due to the disinclination of the sturdy republicans to keep a standing establishment, either naval or military, in time of peace. the same tendency of the american mind to disregard the adage, "in time of peace, prepare for war," is observable to-day. but the chief reason for the dissolution of the navy lay in the impossibility of collecting funds to pay for its maintenance. the states had formed themselves into a confederacy, but so jealously had each state guarded its individual rights, that no power was left to the general government. the navy being a creation of the general government, was therefore left without means of support; and in the last remaining frigate, the "alliance," was sold because there was not enough money in the treasury to pay for her needed repairs. for eight years thereafter the nation remained without a navy. but gradually there sprung up a very considerable maritime commerce under the flag of the united states. the stars and stripes began to be a familiar sight in sea-ports as far away as china and japan. but as far as it afforded any protection to the vessel above which it waved, that banner might have been a meaningless bit of striped bunting. in the dey of algiers, looking to piracy for his income, sent his piratical cruisers out into the atlantic to seize upon the merchantmen of the new nation that had no navy to enforce its authority. two vessels were captured, and their crews sold into disgraceful slavery in algiers. when the first congress of the united states under the present constitution assembled, president washington called the attention of the law-makers to the crying need for a navy. but war had set in between portugal and algiers; the algerian corsairs were blockaded in their ports, and american vessels were enjoying a temporary immunity from piratical attack. therefore congress hesitated. but in peace was suddenly arranged between portugal and algiers. immediately the corsairs swarmed out of the mediterranean sea, and swooped down upon the american merchantmen. in a few weeks four ships were in their hands, and the gangs of white slaves in tunis and tripoli were re-enforced by nearly two hundred luckless yankee sailors. then congress awoke, and ordered the immediate building of six frigates. the ships were laid down, the work was well under way, naval officers had been appointed, and every thing seemed to point to the revival of the american navy, when a treaty was negotiated with algiers, and all work was stopped. and what a treaty it was! by it the united states relinquished every claim to the rights of a sovereign nation. it agreed to pay an annual tribute to the piratical dey, in consideration of his granting to american vessels the right of travel on the high seas. and when some slight delay occurred in making the first payment of tribute, the obsequious government presented the barbary corsair with a frigate, to allay his wrath. we must pass hastily over the time during which this iniquitous treaty was in force. suffice it to say, that by it the united states paid the dey more than a million dollars. for the same sum his piratical establishment might have been scattered like the sands of the desert. in may, , it fell to the lot of capt. william bainbridge, commanding the frigate "george washington," to carry the annual tribute to algiers. on arriving there he was treated with contempt by the dey, who demanded that he put the "washington" at the service of algiers, to carry her ambassador to constantinople. "you pay me tribute, by which you become my slaves," said the dey; "i have therefore a right to order you as i may think proper." bainbridge protested, but to no avail. he had anchored his frigate under the guns of the dey's castle, and to disobey meant capture and slavery. accordingly he complied, but despatched a letter to the authorities at home, saying, "i hope i may never again be sent to algiers with tribute, unless i am authorized to deliver it from the mouth of our cannon." when bainbridge reached the united states, after faithfully discharging the errand of the dey, he found that it was unlikely that either he or any other officer would be forced to carry any further tribute to the barbary pirates. for, while the tribute paid to algiers had merely changed the attitude of that country from open hostility to contemptuous forbearance, it had brought the other barbary states clamoring to the united states for tribute. tunis and tripoli demanded blood-money; and each emphasized its demand by capturing a few yankee merchantmen, and selling their crews into slavery. the agents or ambassadors sent by the united states to these powers were treated with the utmost contempt; and while their lives were often in danger, their property was always considered the fair prey of the barbarian ruler to whose domain they were sent. to tunis was sent gen. william eaton, an american politician, who has left a record of his experiences in the land of the bey. some of the entries in his journal are very pithy. thus under the date of aug. , , he wrote,-- "some good friend had informed the bey that i had an elegant grecian mirror in my house. to-day he sent a request for it, pretending that he wanted it for the cabin of his pleasure-boat, now about to be launched. so it is. if the consuls have a good piece of furniture, or any other good thing which strikes the bey's fancy, he never hesitates to ask for it; and they have no alternative but to give it. they have suffered this to become usance also. " th. sent the bey the mirror." a letter from gen. eaton to the secretary of state, in , tells of the capacity of the bey. a fire in the regal palace destroyed fifty thousand stand of small-arms. the next day the monarch ordered eaton to procure from the united states ten thousand stand to help make up the loss. eaton demurred. "the bey did not send for you to ask your advice," said the prime minister, "but to order you to communicate his demands to your government." eaton still protested, pointed out the fact that the united states had already paid the bey heavy tribute, and asked when these extortionate demands were to end. "never," was the cool response; and the interview ended. but by this time the united states authorities had perceived the error they had committed in temporizing with the barbary powers. they had quieted algiers by the payment of a heavy tribute, and the gift of a frigate. but this had only excited the cupidity of the other petty states. tunis demanded like tribute. the bashaw of tripoli, discontented with his share of the spoils, cut down the flagstaff before the american consulate, and sent out his cruisers to prey upon american commerce. accordingly, on the th of may, , the secretary of the navy ordered a squadron prepared to proceed to the mediterranean, and bring the rapacious arabs to terms. the vessels chosen for this service were the "president," commodore richard dale; "philadelphia," capt. barron; "essex," capt. bainbridge; and the schooner "enterprise," lieut.-commandant sterrett. though the fleet in itself was powerful, the commodore was hampered by the timid and vacillating instructions of congress. war had not been actually declared, and he was therefore to commit no overt act of hostility. the vessels of the fleet were to be employed simply to convoy american merchantmen in and out of the mediterranean sea, and to be in readiness to ward off any hostile action on the part of any of the barbary powers. on july the fleet entered the roadstead at gibraltar, and anchored in the shadow of the famous rock. here the americans found two of the most rapacious of the tripolitan corsairs lying at anchor; one a ship of twenty-six guns under the command of the tripolitan admiral, and the other a brig of sixteen guns. to keep an eye on these piratical worthies, the "philadelphia" was ordered to remain at gibraltar, while the other vessels scattered. the "essex" was ordered to cruise along the northern shore of the mediterranean, gathering up all the american merchantmen, and convoying them to sea. the "president" and the "enterprise" made sail for algiers, to convince the ruler of that country that it would be impolitic for him to declare war against the united states at that time. the desired effect was produced; for the sight of an american frigate did more to tone down the harshness of the dey's utterances, than could the most extortionate tribute. the cruise of the "essex" was uneventful, save for a dispute between the officers of the american man-of-war and a spanish xebec in the roads of barcelona. the trouble arose in this wise:-- the "essex," though a small vessel, was perfectly appointed, of handsome model and appearance, and her crew was drilled to the highest possible state of discipline and efficiency. when she cast anchor at barcelona, she straightway became the talk of the town, and her officers became the lions of the hour, vastly to the disgust of the spaniards on the xebec lying in the same port. accordingly they took every opportunity to annoy the americans, challenging the boats of the "essex" as they passed the xebec, and not scrupling to use abusive language to capt. bainbridge himself. one night a boat, under command of lieut. stephen decatur, was brought under the guns of the xebec, and held there while the spaniards shouted insults from the deck above. decatur called for the officer in command, and remonstrated with him, but receiving no satisfaction, ordered his men to shove off, declaring he would call again in the morning. accordingly, in the forenoon of the following day, a boat from the "essex," with decatur in the stern-sheets, made for the spanish vessel. coming alongside, decatur went on board, and asked for the officer who had been in command the night previous. he was told that the man he sought had gone ashore. "well, then," thundered decatur, in tones that could be heard all over the vessel, "tell him that lieut. decatur of the frigate 'essex' pronounces him a cowardly scoundrel, and when they meet on shore he will cut his ears off." and having thrown this bombshell into the enemy's camp, decatur returned to his ship. the duel was never fought, for the civil authorities bestirred themselves to prevent it. but the matter was taken up by the united states minister to spain, who never permitted it to rest until the fullest apology was made by spain for the indignities to which the american naval officers had been subjected. after having collected a large number of merchantmen, and taken them safely out of the reach of tripolitan cruisers, the "essex" showed her colors in the chief barbary ports, and rejoined the flag-ship in time to return to the united states in december. while the "essex" had been thus pacificly employed, the little schooner "enterprise" had carried off the honors by fighting the first and only pitched battle of the year. this little craft, after accompanying the "president" to algiers, was ordered to malta. while on the way thither she fell in with a polacre-rigged ship flying the tripolitan colors. closer inspection showed her to be a notorious corsair, well known for the constant and merciless warfare she waged upon american merchantmen. the stars and stripes, floating at the peak of the american man-of-war, alarmed the moors, and they opened fire without waiting for a hail. the "enterprise" took up a position alongside, and at a distance of less than a pistol-shot. broadside succeeded broadside in rapid succession. the aim of the americans was better than that of the enemy, and the effect of their fire was observable whenever the breeze cleared away the dense smoke that hid the vessels from each other. but the ordnance of both was light, so that the combat was greatly prolonged. the vessels were almost equally matched; for the "enterprise" carried twelve guns and ninety men, while the tripolitan mounted fourteen guns, and had a crew of eighty-five men. for two hours the battle continued, and the roar of the cannon and the rattle of small-arms were incessant. the day was calm and clear, with the still, warm air prevalent in the mediterranean. hardly was the breeze strong enough to carry away the sulphurous cloud of smoke that formed the one blot on the fair surface of the fairest of all seas. at last the americans noticed that the fire of the enemy had ceased. eagerly they peered through the smoke, and when the outline of their adversary could be made out, three ringing cheers told that the tripolitan flag waved no longer in its place. leaving their guns, the americans were preparing to board the prize, when they were astonished to receive another broadside, and see the colors of their adversary again hoisted. with cries of rage the yankee seamen again went to quarters; and, if they had fought boldly before, they now fought viciously. they cared little to take the prize: their chief end was to send her, and the treacherous corsairs that manned her, to the bottom. the tripolitans in their turn exerted every energy to conquer. bringing their vessel alongside the "enterprise," they strove repeatedly to board, only to be beaten back again and again. finally, after receiving two raking broadsides from the "enterprise," she again struck her flag. this time capt. sterrett was in no haste to consider the combat ended. keeping his men at the guns, he ordered the tripolitan to come under the quarter of the "enterprise." but no sooner had the enemy done so than she renewed the conflict for the third time, by attempting to board. "no quarter for the treacherous dogs," was then the cry on the american vessel. "fight on, and send them to the bottom." the rest of the battle was wholly in favor of the "enterprise." several times she raked her antagonist, doing great execution. many shots took effect between wind and water; and the cry arose on the decks of the tripolitan, that she was sinking. the "enterprise" kept at a safe distance, and by skilful sailing chose her own position, so that she could pour in a deliberate and murderous fire. bitterly were the tripolitans punished for their treachery. their decks ran red with blood, half of their officers were shot down, the cries of their wounded rose shrill above the thunder of the cannon. her flag was struck, but to this the american gunners paid no heed. the repeated treachery of the corsairs had left in the minds of the yankee sailors but one thought,--to send the ship to the bottom, and rid the ocean of so pestiferous a craft. but, enraged though they were, the americans could not wholly cast aside their feelings of humanity. though they had been twice deceived, they could not keep up their attack upon a vessel so sorely stricken as to be unable to respond to their fire. and when at last the commander of the tripolitan, a venerable old man with a flowing beard, appeared in the waist of the ship, sorely wounded, and, bowing submissively, cast the colors of his vessel into the sea, then the fire of the "enterprise" ceased, although the usages of war would have justified the americans in exterminating their treacherous foe. having captured his enemy, capt. sterrett was in some uncertainty as to what to do with it. the instructions under which he sailed gave him no authority to take prizes. after some deliberation, he concluded to rob the captured vessel, which proved to be the "tripoli," of her power for evil. accordingly he sent lieut. david porter, the daring naval officer of whose exploits we have already spoken in the "blue-jackets of ," on board the prize, with instructions to dismantle her. porter carried out his instructions admirably. with immense satisfaction the jackies he took with him forced the tripolitans to cut away their masts, throw overboard all their cannon, cutlasses, pistols, and other arms; cut their sails to pieces; throw all ammunition into the sea, and, to use a nautical expression, "strip the ship to a girtline." one jury-mast and small sail alone was left. porter then pointed out to the crestfallen tripolitan captain, mahomet sons, that the "enterprise" had not lost a man in the action, while of the corsairs not less than fifty were either killed or wounded. "go," said he sternly to the cowering mussulman, "go tell the bashaw of tripoli, and the people of your country, that in future they may expect only a tribute of powder and ball from the sailors of the united states." amid the jeers and execrations of the yankee tars, the crippled tripolitan hulk, with her dead and dying, drifted slowly away. when she reached tripoli, the anger of the bashaw was unappeasable. he had expected his cruiser to return freighted deep with plunder, and crowded with american slaves. she had returned a dismantled hulk. in vain her commander showed his wounds to his wrathful master, and told of the size of his enemy, and the vigor of his resistance. the rage of the bashaw demanded a sacrifice, and the luckless mahomet sons was led through the streets of tripoli tied to a jackass. this in itself was the deepest degradation possible for a mussulman, but the bashaw supplemented it with five hundred bastinadoes well laid on. this severe punishment, together with the repeated assertions of the sailors of the defeated ship, that the dogs of christians had fired enchanted shot, so terrified the seafaring people of tripoli that it was almost impossible for the bashaw to muster a ship's crew for a year after. [illustration: commodore decatur.] the battle between the "enterprise" and the "tripoli" alone saved the first year of the war from being entirely puerile. certain it is that the distinguished naval officers who accompanied the fleet to the mediterranean were so hedged about with political red tape, that they were powerless to take a step in defence of the honor of their country. while they were empowered to rescue any american ship that might be discovered in the grasp of a corsair, they were powerless to attempt the rescue of the hundreds of americans held by bashaw, bey, and dey as slaves. commodore dale, indeed, through diplomacy, managed to free a few of the enslaved americans. having blockaded the harbor of tripoli with the frigate "president," he captured a greek vessel having a score or more of tripolitan soldiers aboard. he then sent word to the bashaw that he would exchange these prisoners for an equal number of americans; but the monarch apparently cared little for his subjects, for he replied that he would not give one american slave for the whole lot. after much argument, an exchange was made upon the basis of three tripolitans to one yankee. it is hard, even at this late day, to regard the policy of the united states towards the barbary powers with feelings other than of mortification. tunis, tripoli, algiers, and morocco constantly preyed on our commerce, and enslaved our sailors. in the streets of algiers worked american slaves, chained together, and wearing iron collars upon their necks. their lives were the property of their owners, and they suffered unheard of privations and tortures. yet at this very time the united states kept a consul in algiers, and maintained friendly relations with the dey. indeed, a historian writing in applauds the american government for the care it took of its citizens enslaved in algiers, by providing each with a suit of clothing yearly! but the continued aggressions and extortionate demands of the barbary powers became at last unbearable. the expedition to the mediterranean, under commodore dale, was but the premonitory muttering before the storm. dale returned to the united states in december, , and his report led to the organization of the naval expedition that was to finally crush the piratical powers of barbary. chapter xvi. more vigorous policy. -- commodore morris sent to the mediterranean. -- porter's cutting-out expedition. -- commodore preble sent to the mediterranean. -- his encounter with a british man-of-war. -- the loss of the "philadelphia." -- decatur's daring adventure. the return of commodore dale from the mediterranean, and the reports which he brought of the continued aggressions and insolence of the barbary powers, made a very marked change in the temper of the people of the united states. early in congress passed laws, which, though not in form a formal declaration of war, yet permitted the vigorous prosecution of hostilities against tripoli, algiers, or any other of the barbary powers. a squadron was immediately ordered into commission for the purpose of chastising the corsairs, and was put under the command of commodore morris. the vessels detailed for this service were the "chesapeake," thirty-eight; "constellation," thirty-eight; "new york," thirty-six; "john adams," twenty-eight; "adams," twenty-eight; and "enterprise," twelve. some months were occupied in getting the vessels into condition for sea; and while the "enterprise" started in february for the mediterranean, it was not until september that the last ship of the squadron followed her. it will be remembered that the "philadelphia" and "essex," of dale's squadron, had been left in the mediterranean; and as the "boston," twenty-eight, had been ordered to cruise in those waters after carrying united states minister livingstone to france, the power of the western republic was well supported before the coast-line of barbary. the "enterprise" and the "constellation" were the first of the squadron to reach the mediterranean, and they straightway proceeded to tripoli to begin the blockade of that port. one day, while the "constellation" was lying at anchor some miles from the town, the lookout reported that a number of small craft were stealing along, close in shore, and evidently trying to sneak into the harbor. immediately the anchor was raised, and the frigate set out in pursuit. the strangers proved to be a number of tripolitan gunboats, and for a time it seemed as though they would be cut off by the swift-sailing frigate. as they came within range, the "constellation" opened a rapid and well-directed fire, which soon drove the gunboats to protected coves and inlets in the shore. the americans then lowered their boats with the intention of engaging the enemy alongshore, but at this moment a large body of cavalry came galloping out from town to the rescue. the yankees, therefore, returned to their ship, and, after firing a few broadsides at the cavalry, sailed away. thereafter, for nearly a year, the record of the american squadron in the mediterranean was uneventful. commodore morris showed little disposition to push matters to an issue, but confined his operations to sailing from port to port, and instituting brief and imperfect blockades. in april, , the squadron narrowly escaped being seriously weakened by the loss of the "new york." it was when this vessel was off malta, on her way to tripoli in company with the "john adams" and the "enterprise." the drums had just beat to grog; and the sailors, tin cup in hand, were standing in a line on the main deck waiting their turns at the grog-tub. suddenly a loud explosion was heard, and the lower part of the ship was filled with smoke. "the magazine is on fire," was the appalling cry; and for a moment confusion reigned everywhere. all knew that the explosion must have been near the magazine. there was no one to command, for at the grog hour the sailors are left to their own occupations. so the confusion spread, and there seemed to be grave danger of a panic, when capt. chauncey came on deck. a drummer passed hurriedly by him. "drummer, beat to quarters!" was the quick, sharp command of the captain. the drummer stopped short, and in a moment the resonant roll of the drum rose above the shouts and the tramping of feet. as the well-known call rose on the air, the men regained their self-control, and went quietly to their stations at the guns, as though preparing to give battle to an enemy. when order had been restored, capt. chauncey commanded the boats to be lowered; but the effect of this was to arouse the panic again. the people rushed from the guns, and crowded out upon the bowsprit, the spritsail-yard, and the knightheads. some leaped into the sea, and swam for the nearest vessel. all strove to get as far from the magazine as possible. this poltroonery disgusted chauncey. "volunteers, follow me," he cried. "remember, lads, it's just as well to be blown through three decks as one." so saying he plunged down the smoky hatchway, followed by lieut. david porter and some other officers. blinded and almost stifled by the smoke, they groped their way to the seat of the danger. with wet blankets, and buckets of water, they began to fight the flames. as their efforts began to meet with success, one of the officers went on deck, and succeeded in rallying the men, and forming two lines of water-carriers. after two hours' hard work, the ship was saved. the explosion was a serious one, many of the bulkheads having been blown down, and nineteen officers and men seriously injured, of whom fourteen died. it came near leading to a still more serious blunder; for, when the flames broke out, the quartermaster was ordered to hoist the signal, "a fire on board." in his trepidation he mistook the signal, and announced, "a mutiny on board." seeing this, capt. rodgers of the "john adams" beat his crew to quarters, and with shotted guns and open ports took up a raking position astern of the "new york," ready to quell the supposed mutiny. luckily he discovered his error without causing loss of life. for a month after this incident, the ships were detained at malta making repairs; but, near the end of may, the "john adams," "adams," "new york," and "enterprise" took up the blockade of tripoli. one afternoon a number of merchant vessels succeeded in evading the blockaders, and though cut off from the chief harbor of the town, yet took refuge in the port of old tripoli. they were small lanteen-rigged feluccas of light draught; and they threaded the narrow channels, and skimmed over shoals whither the heavy men-of-war could not hope to follow them. scarcely had they reached the shore when preparations were made for their defence against any cutting-out party the americans might send for their capture. on the shore near the spot where the feluccas were beached, stood a heavy stone building, which was taken possession of by a party of troops hastily despatched from the city. the feluccas were laden with wheat, packed in sacks; and these sacks were taken ashore in great numbers, and piled up on either side of the great building so as to form breastworks. so well were the works planned, that they formed an almost impregnable fortress. behind its walls the tripolitans stood ready to defend their stranded vessels. that night lieut. porter took a light boat, and carefully reconnoitred the position of the enemy. he was discovered, and driven away by a heavy fire of musketry, but not before he had taken the bearings of the feluccas and their defences. the next morning he volunteered to go in and destroy the boats, and, having obtained permission, set out, accompanied by lieut. james lawrence and a strong party of sailors. there was no attempt at concealment or surprise. the americans pushed boldly forward, in the teeth of a heavy fire from the tripolitans. no attempt was made to return the fire, for the enemy was securely posted behind his ramparts. the yankees could only bend to their oars, and press forward with all possible speed. at last the beach was reached, and boats-prows grated upon the pebbly sand. quickly the jackies leaped from their places; and while some engaged the tripolitans, others, torch in hand, clambered upon the feluccas, and set fire to the woodwork and the tarred cordage. when the flames had gained some headway, the incendiaries returned to their boats, and made for the squadron again, feeling confident that the tripolitans could do nothing to arrest the conflagration. but they had underestimated the courage of the barbarians; for no sooner had the boats pushed off, than the tripolitans rushed down to the shore, and strained every muscle for the preservation of their ships. the men-of-war rained grape-shot upon them; but they persevered, and before porter and his followers regained their ships, the triumphant cries of the tripolitans gave notice the flames were extinguished. porter had been severely wounded in the thigh, and twelve or fifteen of his men had been killed or wounded; so that the failure of the expedition to fully accomplish its purpose was bitterly lamented. the loss of the enemy was never definitely ascertained, though several were seen to fall during the conflict. on both sides the most conspicuous gallantry was shown; the fighting was at times almost hand to hand, and once, embarrassed by the lack of ammunition, the tripolitans seized heavy stones, and hurled them down upon their assailants. for some weeks after this occurrence, no conflict took place between the belligerents. commodore morris, after vainly trying to negotiate a peace with tripoli, sailed away to malta, leaving the "john adams" and the "adams" to blockade the harbor. to them soon returned the "enterprise," and the three vessels soon after robbed the bey of his largest corsair. on the night of the st of june, an unusual commotion about the harbor led the americans to suspect that an attempt was being made to run the blockade. a strict watch was kept; and, before morning, the "enterprise" discovered a large cruiser sneaking along the coast toward the harbor's mouth. the tripolitan was heavy enough to have blown the yankee schooner out of the water; but, instead of engaging her, she retreated to a small cove, and took up a favorable position for action. signals from the "enterprise" soon brought the other united states vessels to the spot; while in response to rockets and signal guns from the corsair, a large body of tripolitan cavalry came galloping down the beach, and a detachment of nine gunboats came to the assistance of the beleaguered craft. no time was lost in manoeuvring. taking up a position within point-blank range, the "john adams" and the "enterprise" opened fire on the enemy, who returned it with no less spirit. for forty-five minutes the cannonade was unabated. the shot of the american gunners were seen to hull the enemy repeatedly, and at last the tripolitans began to desert their ship. over the rail and through the open ports the panic-stricken corsairs dropped into the water. the shot of the yankees had made the ship's deck too hot a spot for the tripolitans, and they fled with great alacrity. when the last had left the ship, the "john adams" prepared to send boats to take possession of the prize. but at this moment a boat-load of tripolitans returned to the corsair; and the americans, thinking they were rallying, began again their cannonade. five minutes later, while the boat's-crew was still on the tripolitan ship, she blew up. the watchers heard a sudden deafening roar; saw a volcanic burst of smoke; saw rising high above the smoke the main and mizzen masts of the shattered vessel, with the yards, rigging, and hamper attached. when the smoke cleared away, only a shapeless hulk occupied the place where the proud corsair had so recently floated. what caused the explosion, cannot be told. were it not for the fact that many of the tripolitans were blown up with the ship, it might be thought that she had been destroyed by her own people. after this encounter, the three united states vessels proceeded to malta. here commodore morris found orders for his recall, and he returned to the united states in the "adams." in his place commodore preble had been chosen to command the naval forces; and that officer, with the "constitution," forty-four, arrived in the mediterranean in september, . following him at brief intervals came the other vessels of his squadron,--the "vixen" twelve, "siren" sixteen, and "argus" sixteen; the "philadelphia" thirty-eight, and the "nautilus" twelve, having reached the mediterranean before the commodore. three of these vessels were commanded by young officers, destined to win enduring fame in the ensuing war,--stephen decatur, william bainbridge, and richard somers. before the last vessel of this fleet reached the mediterranean, a disaster had befallen one of the foremost vessels, which cost the united states a good man-of-war, and forced a ship's crew of yankee seamen to pass two years of their lives in the cells of a tripolitan fortress. this vessel was the "philadelphia," capt. bainbridge. she had reached the mediterranean in the latter part of august, and signalled her arrival by overhauling and capturing the cruiser "meshboha," belonging to the emperor of morocco. with the cruiser was a small brig, which proved to be an american merchantman; and in her hold were found the captain and seven men, tied hand and foot. morocco was then ostensibly on friendly terms with the united states, and bainbridge demanded of the captain of the cruiser by what right he had captured an american vessel. to this the moor returned, that he had done so, anticipating a war which had not yet been declared. "then, sir," said bainbridge sternly, "i must consider you as a pirate, and shall treat you as such. i am going on deck for fifteen minutes. if, when i return, you can show me no authority for your depredations upon american commerce, i shall hang you at the yard-arm." so saying, bainbridge left the cabin. in fifteen minutes he returned, and, throwing the cabin doors open, stepped in with a file of marines at his heels. in his hand he held his watch, and he cast upon the moor a look of stern inquiry. not a word was said, but the prisoner understood the dread import of that glance. nervously he began to unbutton the voluminous waistcoats which encircled his body, and from an inner pocket of the fifth drew forth a folded paper. it was a commission directing him to make prizes of all american craft that might come in his path. no more complete evidence of the treachery of morocco could be desired. bainbridge sent the paper to commodore preble, and, after stopping at gibraltar a day or two, proceeded to his assigned position off the harbor of tripoli. in the latter part of october, the lookout on the "philadelphia" spied a vessel running into the harbor, and the frigate straightway set out in chase. the fugitive showed a clean pair of heels; and as the shots from the bow-chasers failed to take effect, and the water was continually shoaling before the frigate's bow, the helm was put hard down, and the frigate began to come about. but just at that moment she ran upon a shelving rock, and in an instant was hard and fast aground. the americans were then in a most dangerous predicament. the sound of the firing had drawn a swarm of gunboats out of the harbor of tripoli, and they were fast bearing down upon the helpless frigate. every possible expedient was tried for the release of the ship, but to no avail. at last the gunboats, discovering her helpless condition, crowded so thick about her that there was no course open but to strike. and so, after flooding the magazine, throwing overboard all the small-arms, and knocking holes in the bottom of the ship, bainbridge reluctantly surrendered. hardly had the flag touched the deck, when the gunboats were alongside. if the americans expected civilized treatment, they were sadly mistaken, for an undisciplined rabble came swarming over the taffrail. lockers and chests were broken open, storerooms ransacked, officers and men stripped of all the articles of finery they were wearing. it was a scene of unbridled pillage, in which the tripolitan officers were as active as their men. an officer being held fast in the grasp of two of the tripolitans, a third would ransack his pockets, and strip him of any property they might covet. swords, watches, jewels, and money were promptly confiscated by the captors; and they even ripped the epaulets from the shoulders of the officers' uniforms. no resistance was made, until one of the pilferers tried to tear from bainbridge an ivory miniature of his young and beautiful wife. wresting himself free, the captain knocked down the vandal, and made so determined a resistance that his despoilers allowed him to keep the picture. when all the portable property was in the hands of the victors, the americans were loaded into boats, and taken ashore. it was then late at night; but the captives were marched through the streets to the palace of the bashaw, and exhibited to that functionary. after expressing great satisfaction at the capture, the bashaw ordered the sailors thrown into prison, while the officers remained that night as his guests. he entertained them with an excellent supper, but the next morning they were shown to the gloomy prison apartments that were destined to be their home until the end of the war. of their life there we shall have more to say hereafter. while this disaster had befallen the american cause before tripoli, commodore preble in the flag-ship "constitution," accompanied by the "nautilus," had reached gibraltar. there he found commodore rodgers, whom he was to relieve, with the "new york" and the "john adams." hardly had the commodore arrived, when the case of the captured morocco ship "meshboha" was brought to his attention; and he straightway went to tangier to request the emperor to define his position with regard to the united states. though the time of commodore rodgers on the mediterranean station had expired, he consented to accompany preble to tangier; and the combined squadrons of the two commodores had so great an effect upon the emperor, that he speedily concluded a treaty. commodore rodgers then sailed for the united states, and preble began his preparations for an active prosecution of the war with tripoli. it was on the st of october that the "philadelphia" fell into the hands of the tripolitans, but it was not until nov. that the news of the disaster reached commodore preble and the other officers of the squadron. shortly after the receipt of the news, the commodore proceeded with his flag-ship, accompanied by the "enterprise," to tripoli, to renew the blockade which had been broken by the loss of the "philadelphia." it was indeed high time that some life should be infused into the war with tripoli. commodore dale had been sent to the mediterranean with instructions that tied him hand and foot. morris, who followed him, was granted more discretion by congress, but had not been given the proper force. now that preble had arrived with a sufficient fleet, warlike instructions, and a reputation for dash unexcelled by that of any officer in the navy, the blue-jackets looked for some active service. foreign nations were beginning to speak scornfully of the harmless antics of the united states fleet in the mediterranean, and the younger american officers had fought more than one duel with foreigners to uphold the honor of the american service. they now looked to preble to give them a little active service. an incident which occurred shortly after the arrival of the "constitution" in the bay of gibraltar convinced the american officers that their commodore had plenty of fire and determination in his character. one night the lookouts reported a large vessel alongside, and the hail from the "constitution" brought only a counter-hail from the stranger. both vessels continued to hail without any answer being returned, when preble came on deck. taking the trumpet from the hand of the quartermaster, he shouted,-- "i now hail you for the last time. if you do not answer, i'll fire a shot into you." "if you fire, i'll return a broadside," was the reply. "i'd like to see you do it. i now hail you for an answer. what ship is that?" "this is h. b. m. ship 'donegal,' eighty-four; sir richard strachan, an english commodore. send a boat aboard." "this is the united states ship 'constitution,' forty-four," answered preble, in high dudgeon; "edward preble, an american commodore; and i'll be d--d if i send a boat on board of any ship. blow your matches, boys!" the englishman saw a conflict coming, and sent a boat aboard with profuse apologies. she was really the frigate "maidstone," but being in no condition for immediate battle had prolonged the hailing in order to make needed preparations. on the d of december, while the "constitution" and "enterprise" were blockading tripoli, the latter vessel overhauled and captured the ketch "mastico," freighted with female slaves that were being sent by the bashaw of tripoli to the porte, as a gift. the capture in itself was unimportant, save for the use made of the ketch later. the vessels of the blockading squadron, from their station outside the bar, could see the captured "philadelphia" riding lightly at her moorings under the guns of the tripolitan batteries. her captors had carefully repaired the injuries the americans had inflicted upon the vessel before surrendering. her foremast was again in place, the holes in her bottom were plugged, the scars of battle were effaced, and she rode at anchor as pretty a frigate as ever delighted the eye of a tar. from his captivity bainbridge had written letters to commodore preble, with postscripts written in lemon-juice, and illegible save when the sheet of paper was exposed to the heat. in these postscripts he urged the destruction of the "philadelphia." lieut. stephen decatur, in command of the "enterprise," eagerly seconded these proposals, and proposed to cut into the port with the "enterprise," and undertake the destruction of the captured ship. lieut.-commander stewart of the "nautilus" made the same proposition; but preble rejected both, not wishing to imperil a man-of-war on so hazardous an adventure. the commodore, however, had a project of his own which he communicated to decatur, and in which that adventurous sailor heartily joined. this plan was to convert the captured ketch into a man-of-war, man her with volunteers, and with her attempt the perilous adventure of the destruction of the "philadelphia." the project once broached was quickly carried into effect. the ketch was taken into the service, and named the "intrepid." news of the expedition spread throughout the squadron, and many officers eagerly volunteered their services. when the time was near at hand, decatur called the crew of the "enterprise" together, told them of the plan of the proposed expedition, pointed out its dangers, and called for volunteers. every man and boy on the vessel stepped forward, and begged to be taken. decatur chose sixty-two picked men, and was about to leave the deck, when his steps were arrested by a young boy who begged hard to be taken. "why do you want to go, jack?" asked the commodore. "well, sir," said jack, "you see, i'd kinder like to see the country." the oddity of the boy's reason struck decatur's fancy, and he told jack to report with the rest. on the night of feb. , , the "intrepid," accompanied by the "siren," parted company with the rest of the fleet, and made for tripoli. the voyage was stormy and fatiguing. more than seventy men were cooped up in the little ketch, which had quarters scarcely for a score. the provisions which had been put aboard were in bad condition, so that after the second day they had only bread and water upon which to live. when they had reached the entrance to the harbor of tripoli, they were driven back by the fury of the gale, and forced to take shelter in a neighboring cove. there they remained until the th, repairing damages, and completing their preparations for the attack. the weather having moderated, the two vessels left their place of concealment, and shaped their course for tripoli. on the way, decatur gave his forces careful instructions as to the method of attack. the americans were divided into several boarding parties, each with its own officer and work. one party was to keep possession of the upper deck, another was to carry the gun-deck, a third should drive the enemy from the steerage, and so on. all were to carry pistols in their belts; but the fighting, as far as possible, was to be done with cutlasses, so that no noise might alarm the enemy in the batteries, and the vessels in the port. one party was to hover near the "philadelphia" in a light boat, and kill all tripolitans who might try to escape to the shore by swimming. the watchword for the night was "philadelphia." about noon, the "intrepid" came in sight of the towers of tripoli. both the ketch and the "siren" had been so disguised that the enemy could not recognize them, and they therefore stood boldly for the harbor. as the wind was fresh, decatur saw that he was likely to make port before night; and he therefore dragged a cable and a number of buckets astern to lessen his speed, fearing to take in sail, lest the suspicions of the enemy should be aroused. when within about five miles of the town, the "philadelphia" became visible. she floated lightly at her anchorage under the guns of two heavy batteries. behind her lay moored two tripolitan cruisers, and near by was a fleet of gunboats. it was a powerful stronghold into which the yankee blue-jackets were about to carry the torch. about ten o'clock, the adventurers reached the harbor's mouth. the wind had fallen so that the ketch was wafted slowly along over an almost glassy sea. the "siren" took up a position in the offing, while the "intrepid," with her devoted crew, steered straight for the frigate. a new moon hung in the sky. from the city arose the soft low murmur of the night. in the fleet all was still. on the decks of the "intrepid" but twelve men were visible. the rest lay flat on the deck, in the shadow of the bulwarks or weather-boards. her course was laid straight for the bow of the frigate, which she was to foul. when within a short distance, a hail came from the "philadelphia." in response, the pilot of the ketch answered, that the ketch was a coaster from malta, that she had lost her anchors in the late gale, and had been nearly wrecked, and that she now asked permission to ride by the frigate during the night. the people on the frigate were wholly deceived, and sent out ropes to the ketch, allowing one of the boats of the "intrepid" to make a line fast to the frigate. the ends of the ropes on the ketch were passed to the hidden men, who pulled lustily upon them, thus bringing the little craft alongside the frigate. but, as she came into clearer view, the suspicions of the tripolitans were aroused; and when at last the anchors of the "intrepid" were seen hanging in their places at the catheads, the tripolitans cried out that they had been deceived, and warned the strangers to keep off. at the same moment the cry, "americanos! americanos!" rang through the ship, and the alarm was given. by this time the ketch was fast to the frigate. "follow me, lads," cried decatur, and sprang for the chain-plates of the "philadelphia." clinging there, he renewed his order to board; and the men sprang to their feet, and were soon clambering on board the frigate. lieut. morris first trod the deck of the "philadelphia," decatur followed close after, and then the stream of men over the rail and through the open ports was constant. complete as was the surprise, the entire absence of any resistance was astonishing. few of the turks had weapons in their hands, and those who had fled before the advancing americans. on all sides the splashing of water told that the affrighted turks were trying to make their escape that way. in ten minutes decatur and his men had complete possession of the ship. doubtless at that moment the successful adventurers bitterly regretted that they could not take out of the harbor the noble frigate they had so nobly recaptured. but the orders of the commodore, and the dangers of their own situation, left them no choice. nothing was to be done but to set fire to the frigate, and retreat with all possible expedition. the combustibles were brought from the ketch, and piled about the frigate, and lighted. so quickly was the work done, and so rapidly did the flames spread, that the people who lit the fires in the storerooms and cock-pit had scarce time to get on deck before their retreat was cut off by the flames. before the ketch could be cast off from the sides of the frigate, the flames came pouring out of the port-holes, and flaming sparks fell aboard the smaller vessel, so that the ammunition which lay piled amidships was in grave danger of being exploded. axes and cutlasses were swung with a will; and soon the bonds which held the two vessels together were cut, and the ketch was pushed off. then the blue-jackets bent to their sweeps, and soon the "intrepid" was under good headway. "now, lads," cried decatur, "give them three cheers." and the jackies responded with ringing cheers, that mingled with the roar of the flames that now had the frame of the "philadelphia" in their control. then they grasped their sweeps again, and the little vessel glided away through a hail of grape and round shot from the tripolitan batteries and men-of-war. though the whistle of the missiles was incessant, and the splash of round-shot striking the water could be heard on every side, no one in the boat was hurt; and the only shot that touched the ketch went harmlessly through her main-sail. as they pulled away, they saw the flames catch the rigging of the "philadelphia," and run high up the masts. then the hatchways were burst open, and great gusts of flame leaped out. the shotted guns of the frigate were discharged in quick succession; one battery sending its iron messengers into the streets of tripoli, while the guns on the other side bore upon fort english. the angry glare of the flames, and the flash of the cannon, lighted up the bay; while the thunders of the cannonade, and the cries of the tripolitans, told of the storm that was raging. the ruddy light of the burning ship bore good news to two anxious parties of decatur's friends. capt. bainbridge and the other american officers whom the tripolitans had captured with the "philadelphia" were imprisoned in a tower looking out upon the bay. the rapid thunder of the cannonade on this eventful night awakened them; and they rushed to their windows, to see the "philadelphia," the bashaw's boasted prize, in flames. right lustily they added their cheers to the general tumult, nor ceased their demonstrations of joy until a surly guard came and ordered them from the windows. far out to sea another band of watchers hailed the light of the conflagration with joy. the "siren" had gone into the offing when the "intrepid" entered the harbor, and there awaited with intense anxiety the outcome of the adventure. after an hour's suspense, a rocket was seen to mount into the sky, and burst over tripoli. it was the signal of success agreed upon. boats were quickly lowered, and sent to the harbor's mouth to meet and cover the retreat of the returning party. hardly had they left the side of the ship, when the red light in the sky told that the "philadelphia" was burning; and an hour later decatur himself sprang over the taffrail, and proudly announced his victory. not a man had been lost in the whole affair. as the expedition had been perfect in conception, so it was perfect in execution. the adventure became the talk of all europe. lord nelson, england's greatest admiral, said of it, "it was the most bold and daring act of the ages." and when the news reached the united states, decatur, despite his youth, was made a captain. chapter xvii. a stirring year. -- the bombardment of tripoli. -- decatur's hand-to-hand fight. -- lieut. trippe's bravery. -- lieut. spence's bold deed. -- somers's narrow escape. -- the floating mine. -- the fatal explosion. -- close of the war. -- the end. decatur's brilliant exploit set the key-note for the year ; and, for the remainder of that year, the americans carried on the war with no less spirit and dash. a high degree of daring had been infused into the men by so notable an example; and long before the year was out, the blue-jackets began to consider themselves invincible, and were ready to undertake any exploit for which their services might be required. the lesser events of the year, we must pass over hastily. the maintenance of the blockade of tripoli led to one or two slight actions, and an occasional capture of little consequence. thus, in march, the "siren" captured the "transfer," privateer, which was trying to run the blockade. a month or two later, a coasting felucca, loaded with supplies, was chased ashore near tripoli, and two boats' crews were sent to take possession of her. the tripolitans, as usual, sent out a body of cavalry to protect the felucca, and the americans were driven off. thereupon the american blockading squadron took up a position within range, and threw solid shot into the felucca until she was a complete wreck. nor did the tripolitan cavalry escape without a shot or two. but while the smaller vessels of the mediterranean squadron were enforcing the blockade before tripoli, commodore preble, with the flag-ship and the larger vessels, was at malta preparing for a vigorous attack upon the city of the bashaw itself. he had added to the fleet he had brought with him from the united states two bomb-vessels and six gunboats. he had also added somewhat to the armament of the "constitution," and now proposed to try the effect upon tripoli of a vigorous bombardment. by the st of july, the commodore was able to leave malta with his fleet, fully prepared for active hostilities. tripoli was then defended by heavy batteries mounting a hundred and fifteen guns. in the harbor were moored nineteen gunboats, two galleys, two schooners, and a brig. the available force under the command of the bashaw numbered not less than twenty-five thousand men. it was no pygmy undertaking upon which the americans had embarked. on the st of august, , the first attack was made; and though only a bombardment of the town had been contemplated, there followed one of the most desperate hand-to-hand naval battles recorded in history. it was a sultry midsummer day, and the white walls of the city of tripoli glared under the fierce rays of a tropical sun. a light breeze stirred the surface of the water, and made life on the ships bearable. before this breeze the american squadron ran down towards the town. all preparations had been made for a spirited bombardment; and as the americans drew near the shore, they saw that the tripolitans had suspected the attack, and had made ready for it. the attacking forces formed into two lines, with the regular naval vessels in the rear, and the gunboats and bomb-vessels in front. as the vessels in the van were to bear the brunt of the battle, they were manned by picked crews from the larger vessels, and had for their officers the most daring spirits of the mediterranean squadron. at half-past two the firing commenced, and soon from every vessel in the american line shells and shot were being thrown into the city of the bashaw. the tripolitan batteries returned the fire with vigor, and their gunboats pressed forward to drive the assailants back. at the approach of the tripolitan gunboats, the americans diverted their aim from the city, and, loading with grape and canister, turned upon their foes a murderous fire. upon the eastern division of the enemy's gunboats, nine in number, decatur led the four boats under his command. the advance of the enemy was checked; but still the americans pressed on, until fairly within the smoke of the tripolitans' guns. here the boats were held in position by the brawny sailors at the sweeps, while the gunners poured grape and canister into the enemy. fearfully were the americans outnumbered. they could hope for no help from their friends in the men-of-war in the rear. they were hemmed in on all sides by hostile gunboats, more strongly manned, and heavier in metal, than they. they were outnumbered three to one; for gunboat no. , which had belonged to decatur's division, had drawn out of the fight in obedience to a signal for recall, which had been displayed by mistake on the "constitution." then decatur displayed his desperate courage. signalling to his companions to close with their adversaries and board, he laid his vessel alongside the nearest gunboat; and in a trice every american of the crew was swarming over the enemy's bulwarks. taken by surprise, the turks retreated. the gunboat was divided down the centre by a long, narrow hatchway; and as the yankees came tumbling over the bulwarks, the turks retreated to the farther side. this gave decatur time to rally his men; and, dividing them into two parties, he sent one party around by the stern of the boat, while he led a party around the bow. the turks were dazed by the suddenness of the attack, and cowed by the fearful effect of the americans' last volley before boarding. their captain lay dead, with fourteen bullets in his body. many of the officers were wounded, and all the survivors were penned into a narrow space by the two parties of blue-jackets. the contest was short. hampered by lack of room in which to wield their weapons, the turks were shot down or bayoneted. many leaped over the gunwale into the sea; many were thrown into the open hatchway; and the remnant, throwing down their arms, pleaded piteously for quarter. decatur had no time to exult in his victory. hastily securing his prisoners below decks, and making his prize fast to his own vessel, he bore down upon the tripolitan next to leeward. while shaping his course for this vessel, decatur was arrested by a hail from the gunboat which had been commanded by his brother james. he was told that his brother had gallantly engaged and captured a tripolitan gunboat, but that, on going aboard of her after her flag had been struck, he had been shot down by the cowardly turk who was in command. the murderer then rallied his men, drove the americans away, and carried his craft out of the battle. decatur's grief for the death of his brother gave way, for the time, to his anger on account of the base treachery by which the victim met his death. casting prudence to the winds, he turned his boat's prow towards the gunboat of the murderer, and, urging on his rowers, soon laid the enemy aboard. cutlass in hand, decatur was first on the deck of the enemy. behind him followed close lieut. macdonough and nine blue-jackets. nearly forty turks were ready to receive the boarders. as the boarders came over the rail, they fired their pistols at the enemy, and then sprang down, cutlass in hand. the turks outnumbered them five to one; but the americans rallied in a bunch, and dealt lusty blows right and left. at last, decatur singled out a man whom he felt sure was the commander, and the murderer of his brother. he was a man of gigantic frame; his head covered with a scarlet cap, his face half hidden by a bristly black beard. he was armed with a heavy boarding-pike, with which he made a fierce lunge at decatur. the american parried the blow, and make a stroke at the pike, hoping to cut off its point. but the force of the blow injured the tripolitan's weapon not a whit, while decatur's cutlass broke short off at the hilt. with a yell of triumph the turk lunged again. decatur threw up his arm, and partially avoided the thrust; so that the pike pierced his breast, but inflicted only a slight wound. grappling the weapon, decatur tore it from the wound, wrested it from the turk, and made a lunge at him, which he avoided. the combatants then clinched and fell to the deck, fiercely struggling for life and death. about them fought their followers, who strove to aid their respective commanders. suddenly a tripolitan officer, who had fought his way to a place above the heads of the two officers, aimed a blow at the head of decatur. his victim was powerless to guard himself. one american sailor only was at hand. this was reuben james, a young man whose desperate fighting had already cost him wounds in both arms, so that he could not lift a hand to save his commander. but, though thus desperately wounded, james had yet one offering to lay before his captain,--his life. and he showed himself willing to make this last and greatest sacrifice, by thrusting his head into the path of the descending scimetar, and taking upon his own skull the blow intended for decatur. the hero fell bleeding to the deck; a pistol-shot from an american ended the career of the turk, and decatur was left to struggle with his adversary upon the deck. but by this time the great strength of the turkish captain was beginning to tell in the death-struggle. his right arm was clasped like an iron band around the american captain, while with his left hand he drew from his belt a short _yataghan_, which he was about to plunge into the throat of his foe. decatur lay on his side, with his eyes fixed upon the face of his foe. he saw the look of triumph flash in the eyes of the turk; he saw the gleaming steel of the _yataghan_ as it was drawn from its sheath. mustering all his strength, he writhed in the grasp of his burly foe. he wrested his left arm clear, and caught the turk's wrist just as the fatal blow was falling; then with his right hand he drew from his pocket a small pistol. pressing this tightly against the back of his enemy, he fired. the ball passed through the body of the turk, and lodged in decatur's clothing. a moment later the tripolitan's hold relaxed, and he fell back dead; while decatur, covered with his own blood and that of his foe, rose to his feet, and stood amidst the pile of dead and wounded men that had gathered during the struggle around the battling chiefs. the fall of their captain disheartened the tripolitans, and they speedily threw down their arms. the prize was then towed out of the line of battle; and, as by this time the american gunboats were drawing off, decatur took his prizes into the shelter of the flag-ship. while decatur had been thus engaged, the gunboats under his command had not been idle. lieut. trippe, in command of no. , had fought a hand-to-hand battle that equalled that of decatur. trippe's plan of attack had been the same as that of his leader. dashing at the enemy, he had let fly a round of grape and canister, then boarded in the smoke and confusion. but his boat struck that of the enemy with such force as to recoil; and trippe, who had sprung into the enemy's rigging, found himself left with but nine of his people, to confront nearly twoscore tripolitans. the americans formed in a solid phalanx, and held their ground bravely. again the two commanders singled each other out, and a fierce combat ensued. the turk was armed with a cutlass, while trippe fought with a short boarding-pike. they fought with caution, sparring and fencing, until each had received several slight wounds. at last the tripolitan struck trippe a crushing blow on the head. the american fell, half stunned, upon his knees; and at this moment a second tripolitan aimed a blow at him from behind, but was checked and killed by an american marine. rallying all his strength, trippe made a fierce thrust at his adversary. this time the sharp pike found its mark, and passed through the body of the tripolitan captain, who fell to the deck. his men, seeing him fall, abandoned the contest, and the americans were soon bearing away their prize in triumph. but in the excitement of victory no one thought to haul down the tripolitan flag, which-still flaunted defiant at the end of the long lateen mast. so, when the prize came near the "vixen," the american man-of-war, mistaking her for an enemy, let fly a broadside, that brought down flag, mast and all. luckily no one was hurt, and the broadside was not repeated. but by this time the wind had veered round into an unfavorable quarter, and the flag-ship showed a signal for the discontinuance of the action. the gunboats and their prizes were taken in tow by the schooners and brigs, and towed out of range of the enemy's shot. while this operation was going on, the "constitution" kept up a rapid fire upon the shore batteries, and not until the last of the smaller craft was out of range, did she turn to leave the fray. as she came about, a shot came in one of her stern-ports, struck a gun near which commodore preble was standing, broke to pieces, and scattered death and wounds about. when the squadron had made an offing, preble hoisted a signal for the commanders to come aboard the flag-ship, and make their reports. he was sorely disappointed in the outcome of the fray, and little inclined to recognize the conspicuous instances of individual gallantry shown by his officers. he had set his heart upon capturing the entire fleet of nine tripolitan gunboats, and the escape of six of them had roused his naturally irascible disposition to fury. as he stalked his quarter-deck, morose and silent, decatur came aboard. the young officer still wore the bloody, smoke-begrimed uniform in which he had grappled with the turk, his face was begrimed with powder, his hands and breast covered with blood. as he walked to the quarter-deck, he was the centre of observation of all on the flag-ship. stepping up to the commodore, he said quietly,-- "well, commodore, i have brought you out three of the gunboats." preble turned upon him fiercely, seized him with both hands by the collar, and shaking him like a schoolboy, snarled out,-- "ay, sir, why did you not bring me more?" the blood rushed to decatur's face. the insult was more than he could bear. his hand sought his dagger, but the commodore had left the quarter-deck. turning on his heel, the outraged officer walked to the side, and called his boat, determined to leave the ship at once. but the officers crowded about him, begging him to be calm, and reminding him of the notoriously quick temper of the commodore. while they talked, there came a cabin steward with a message. "the commodore wishes to see capt. decatur below." decatur hesitated a moment, then obeyed. some time passed, but he did not re-appear on deck. the officers became anxious, and at last, upon some pretext, one sought the commodore's cabin. there he found preble and decatur, sitting together, friendly, but both silent, and in tears. the apology had been made and accepted. there is one humble actor in the first attack upon tripoli, whom we cannot abandon without a word. this is reuben james. that heroic young sailor quickly recovered from the bad wound he received when he interposed his own head to save his commander's life. one day decatur called him aft, and publicly asked him what could be done to reward him for his unselfish heroism. the sailor was embarrassed and nonplussed. he rolled his quid of tobacco in his mouth, and scratched his head, without replying. his shipmates were eager with advice. "double pay, jack: the old man will refuse you nothing;" "a boatswain's berth;" "a pocket-full of money and shore leave," were among the suggestions. but james put them aside. he had decided. "if you please, sir," said he, "let somebody else hand out the hammocks to the men when they are piped down. that is a sort of business that i don't exactly like." the boon was granted; and ever afterwards, when the crew was piped to stow away hammocks, reuben james sauntered about the decks with his hands in his pockets, the very personification of elegant leisure. for modesty, the request of the preserver of decatur is only equalled by that of the sailor who decided the battle between the "bon homme richard" and the "serapis." he had stationed himself on the yard-arm, and was dropping hand-grenades upon the deck of the "serapis." at last a well-aimed grenade set fire to some powder on the enemy's ship, and virtually decided the day in favor of the americans. when asked by paul jones what he would have as a reward for this great service, he suggested double rations of grog for the next week as the proper recompense. this he got, and no more. but to return to the american fleet before tripoli. four days were spent in repairing damages, and on the th of august a second attack was made upon the town. the disposition of the american forces was much the same as on the occasion of the first attack, although the americans were re-enforced by the three captured gunboats. the fighting was confined to long-range cannonading; for the enemy had been taught a lesson, and was afraid to try conclusions hand to hand with the americans. about three o'clock in the afternoon, a tremendous explosion drew the gaze of every one to the spot where gunboat no. had been anchored. at first only a dense mass of smoke, with the water surrounding it littered with wreckage, was to be seen. when the smoke cleared away, the extent of the disaster was evident. the gunboat had blown up. her bow alone remained above water, and there a handful of plucky men were loading the great twenty-six-pound cannon that formed her armament. lieut. spence commanded the gunners, and urged them on. "now, lads, be lively," he cried. "let's get one shot at the turks before we sink." every ship in the squadron was cheering the devoted crew of no. . from every vessel anxious eyes watched the men who thus risked their lives for one shot. the water was rushing into the shattered hulk; and just as spence pulled the lanyard, and sent a cast-iron shot into tripoli, the wreck gave a lurch, and went down. her crew was left struggling in the water. spence, who could not swim, saved himself by clinging to an oar, while his men struck out for the nearer vessels, and were soon receiving the congratulations of their comrades. in this attack, richard somers, a most courageous and capable officer, who a few weeks later met a tragic end, narrowly escaped death. he was in command of gunboat no. , and while directing the attack stood leaning against her flagstaff. he saw a shot flying in his direction. involuntarily he ducked his head, and the next instant the flying shot cut away the flagstaff just above him. when the action was over, lieut. somers stood by the pole, and found that the shot had cut it at the exact height of his chin. after firing for about three hours, the american squadron drew off. little had been accomplished, for the stone walls and fortresses of tripoli were not to be damaged very greatly by marine artillery. the americans themselves had suffered seriously. their killed and wounded amounted to eighteen men. they had lost one gunboat by an explosion, and all the vessels had suffered somewhat from the tripolitan fire. that night the americans were gladdened by the arrival of the frigate "john adams," bringing letters and news from home. she brought also the information that re-enforcements were coming. accordingly preble determined to defer any further attack upon tripoli until the arrival of the expected vessels. in the mean time he had several interviews with the bashaw upon the subject of peace; but, as the turk would not relinquish his claim of five hundred dollars ransom for each captive in his hands, no settlement was reached. while waiting for the re-enforcements, preble continued his preparations for another attack. the ships were put into fighting trim, munition hauled over, and repeated and thorough reconnoissances of the enemy's works made. it was while on the latter duty, that the brig "argus" narrowly escaped destruction. with preble on board, she stood into the harbor, and was just coming about before one of the batteries, when a heavy shot raked her bottom, cutting several planks half through. had the shot been an inch higher, it would have sunk the brig. by the th of august, preble's patience was exhausted; and, without waiting longer for the expected squadron, he began an attack upon the town. on the night of the th, a few shells were thrown into tripoli, but did little damage. four days later, a more determined attack was made, in which every vessel in the squadron took part. two of the enemy's gunboats were sunk; but with this exception little material damage was done, though the americans chose the most advantageous positions, and fired fast and well. it was becoming evident that men-of-war were no match for stone walls. during this engagement, the american fleet came within range of the bashaw's palace, and the flying shot and shell drove that dignitary and his suite to a bomb-proof dungeon. one heavy shot flew in at the window of the cell in which capt. bainbridge was confined, and striking the wall, brought down stones and mortar upon him as he lay in bed, so that he was seriously bruised. but the american captain was in no way daunted, and the next day wrote in sympathetic ink to preble, telling him to keep up his fire, for the tripolitans were greatly harassed by it. on sept. , yet another attack upon the town and fortress was made. as in the foregoing instances, nothing was accomplished except the throwing of a vast quantity of shot and shell. capt. bainbridge, in a secret letter to preble, reported, that of the shells he had seen falling in the city very few exploded, and the damage done by them was therefore very light. preble investigated the matter, and found that the fuse-holes of many of the shells had been stopped with lead, so that no fire could enter. the shells had been bought in sicily, where they had been made to resist a threatened invasion by the french. it is supposed that they had been thus ruined by french secret agents. but, before this time, commodore preble, and the officers under his command, had about reached the conclusion that tripoli could not be reduced by bombardment. accordingly they cast about for some new method of attack. the plan that was finally adopted proved unfortunate in this instance, just as similar schemes for the reduction of fortresses have prove futile throughout all history. briefly stated, the plan was to send a fire-ship, or rather a floating mine, into the harbor, to explode before the walls of the fortress, and in the midst of the enemy's cruisers. the ketch "intrepid," which had carried decatur and his daring followers out of the harbor of tripoli, leaving the "philadelphia" burning behind them, was still with the fleet. this vessel was chosen, and with all possible speed was converted into an "infernal," or floating mine. "a small room, or magazine, had been planked up in the hold of the ketch, just forward of her principal mast," writes fenimore cooper. "communicating with this magazine was a trunk, or tube, that led aft to another room filled with combustibles. in the planked room, or magazine, were placed one hundred barrels of gunpowder in bulk; and on the deck, immediately above the powder, were laid fifty thirteen-and-a-half-inch shells, and one hundred nine-inch shells, with a large quantity of shot, pieces of kentledge, and fragments of iron of different sorts. a train was laid in the trunk, or tube, and fuses were attached in the proper manner. in addition to this arrangement, the other small room mentioned was filled with splinters and light wood, which, besides firing the train, were to keep the enemy from boarding, as the flames would be apt to induce them to apprehend an immediate explosion." such was the engine of death prepared. the plan of operations was simply to put a picked crew on this floating volcano, choose a dark night, take the "infernal" into the heart of the enemy's squadron, fire it, and let the crew escape in boats as best they might. the leadership of this desperate enterprise was intrusted to lieut. richard somers. indeed, it is probable that the idea itself originated with him, for a commanding officer would be little likely to assign a subordinate a duty so hazardous. moreover, there existed between decatur and somers a generous rivalry. each strove to surpass the other; and since decatur's exploit with the "philadelphia," somers had been seeking an opportunity to win equal distinction. it is generally believed, that, having conceived the idea of the "infernal," he suggested it to preble, and claimed for himself the right of leadership. but ten men and one officer were to accompany mr. somers on his perilous trip. yet volunteers were numerous, and only by the most inflexible decision could the importunate ones be kept back. the officer chosen was lieut. wadsworth of the "constitution," and the men were chosen from that ship and from the "nautilus." as the time for carrying out the desperate enterprise drew near, preble pointed out to the young commander the great danger of the affair, and the responsibility that rested upon him. particularly was he enjoined not to permit the powder in the ketch to fall into the hands of the tripolitans, who at that time were short of ammunition. one day, while talking with somers, preble burned a port-fire, or slow-match, and, noting its time, asked somers if he thought the boats could get out of reach of the shells in the few minutes it was burning. "i think we can, sir," was the quiet response. something in the speaker's tone aroused preble's interest, and he said,-- "would you like the port-fire shorter still?" "i ask no port-fire at all," was the quiet reply. at last the day of the adventure was at hand. it was sept. , the day following the last attack upon tripoli. the sky was overcast and lowering, and gave promise of a dark night. fully convinced that the time for action was at hand, somers called together the handful of brave fellows who were to follow him, and briefly addressed them. he told them he wished no man to go with him who did not prefer being blown up to being captured. for his part, he would much prefer such a fate, and he wished his followers to agree with him. for answer the brave fellows gave three cheers, and crowded round him, each asking to be selected to apply the match. somers then passed among the officers and crew of the "nautilus," shaking hands, and bidding each farewell. there were few dry eyes in the ship that afternoon; for all loved their young commander, and all knew how desperate was the enterprise in which he had embarked. it was after dusk when the devoted adventurers boarded the powder-laden ketch, as she lay tossing at her anchorage. shortly after they had taken possession, a boat came alongside with decatur and lieut. stewart in the stern-sheets. the officers greeted their comrades with some emotion. they were all about of an age, followed one loved profession, and each had given proofs of his daring. when the time came for them to part, the leave-taking was serious, but tranquil. somers took from his finger a ring, and breaking it into four pieces, gave one to each of his friends. then with hearty handshakings, and good wishes for success, decatur and stewart left their friends. on the ketch was one man who had not been accepted as a volunteer. this was lieut. israel of the "constitution," who had smuggled himself aboard. with this addition to his original force, somers ordered sail made, and the "intrepid" turned her prow in the direction of the tripolitan batteries. as far as the harbor's mouth, she was accompanied by the "argus," the "vixen," and the "nautilus." there they left her, and she pursued her way alone. it was a calm, foggy night. a few stars could be seen glimmering through the haze, and a light breeze ruffled the water, and wafted the sloop gently along her course. from the three vessels that waited outside the harbor's mouth, eager watchers with night-glasses kept their gaze riveted upon the spectral form of the ketch, as she slowly receded from their sight. fainter and fainter grew the outline of her sails, until at last they were lost to sight altogether. then fitful flashes from the enemy's batteries, and the harsh thunder of the cannon, told that she had been sighted by the foe. the anxious watchers paced their decks with bated breath. though no enemy was near to hear them, they spoke in whispers. the shadow of a great awe, the weight of some great calamity, seemed crushing them. "what was that?" all started at the abrupt exclamation. through the haze a glimmering light had been seen to move rapidly along the surface of the water, as though a lantern were being carried along a deck. suddenly it disappeared, as though dropped down a hatchway. a few seconds passed,--seconds that seemed like hours. then there shot up into the sky a dazzling jet of fire. a roar like that of a huge volcano shook earth and sea. the vessels trembled at their moorings. the concussion of the air threw men upon the decks. then the mast of the ketch, with its sail blazing, was seen to rise straight into the air, and fall back. bombs with burning fuses flew in every direction. the distant sound of heavy bodies falling into the water and on the rocks was heard. then all was still. even the tripolitan batteries were silent. for a moment a great sorrow fell upon the americans. then came the thought that somers and his brave men might have left the ketch before the explosion. all listened for approaching oars. minutes lengthened into hours, and still no sound was heard. men hung from the sides of the vessels, with their ears to the water, in the hopes of catching the sound of the coming boats. but all was in vain. day broke; the shattered wreck of the "intrepid" could be seen within the harbor, and near it two injured tripolitan gunboats. but of somers and his brave followers no trace could be seen, nor were they ever again beheld by their companions. to capt. bainbridge in his prison-cell came a tripolitan officer, several days later, asking him to go to a point of rocks, and view some bodies thrown there by the waves. thither bainbridge went, and was shown several bodies shockingly mutilated and burned. though they were doubtless the remains of some of the gallant adventurers, they could not be identified. the exact reason for this disaster can never be known. many have thought that somers saw capture inevitable, and with his own hand fired the fatal charge; others believed the explosion to be purely accidental; while the last and most plausible theory is, that a shot from the enemy's batteries penetrated the magazine, and ended the career of the "intrepid" and her gallant crew. but however vexed the controversy over the cause of the explosion, there has been no denial of the gallantry of its victims. the names of all are honored in naval annals, while that of somers became a battle-cry, and has been borne by some of the most dashing vessels of the united states navy. it may be said that this episode terminated the war with tripoli. thereafter it was but a series of blockades and diplomatic negotiations. commodore barron relieved preble, and maintained the blockade, without any offensive operations, until peace was signed in june, . the conditions of that peace cannot be too harshly criticised. by it the united states paid sixty thousand dollars for american prisoners in the hands of the bashaw, thus yielding to demands for ransom which no civilized nation should for a moment have considered. the concession was all the more unnecessary, because a native force of insurrectionists, re-enforced by a few americans, was marching upon tripoli from the rear, and would have soon brought the bashaw to terms. but it was not the part of the navy to negotiate the treaty. that rested with the civilians. the duty of the blue-jackets had been to fight for their country's honor; and that they had discharged this duty well, no reader of these pages can deny. part ii blue-jackets of . chapter i. the gathering of the war-cloud. -- the revolution ended, but the war for independence yet unfought. -- outrages upon american sailors. -- the right of search. -- impressment. -- boyhood of commodore porter. -- early days of commodores perry and barney. -- burning a privateer. -- the embargo. -- war inevitable. on a bright november afternoon in the year , the streets of new york city, bordering on the bay, were crowded with excited people, pushing and elbowing each other rudely, and all pressing down to the water-side, where was collected a huge crowd, looking anxiously across the broad waters of the noble bay, to a spot where lay anchored a large squadron of ships. the taut cordage, the trimly squared yards, and the rows of cannon protruding from the open ports made it evident to the veriest landsman that many of the ships were men-of-war; while the scarlet flags crossed by the emblem of st. george, flaunting from the peak of every vessel, declared the allegiance of the fleet to the monarch of great britain, against whose rule the hardy colonists had been for years waging a warfare, now to end in victory. between the ships and the landing-place of old fort george, that then stood where now extends the green sward of the battery park, a fleet of long-boats was actively plying; the long, swinging strokes of the blue-clad sailors stamping them as men-o'-war's men beyond doubt. the landing-place was thronged with troops, whose glistening muskets, scarlet coats, gold trimmings, and waving plumes contrasted beautifully with the bright blue jackets of the sailors, as file after file of the soldiers boarded the boats, and were rowed away to the waiting ships. the troops drawn up on the shore formed long lines of scarlet against the green background of the bastions of fort george. the men standing at rest talked loudly to each other of the coming voyage, and now and again shouted fiercely at some soberly clad citizen who strolled too near the warlike ranks; for had not all the sturdy citizens of new york come down to see the hated british evacuate the city, forced out by the troops of gen. washington (plain _mr._ washington, the british liked to call him)? the ragged gamins scurried here and there, yelling ribald jests at the departing soldiers; and the scarlet-coated troopers had hard work keeping down their rising anger, as suggestive cries of "boiled lobsters" rose on every side. even the staid citizens could hardly conceal their exultation, as they thought that with those soldiers departed forever the rule of great britain over the colonies. it was a quaint-looking crowd that had gathered that day, at the end of the little town. the sturdy mechanics and laborers, who were most numerous, were dressed in tight leather or yellow buckskin breeches, checked shirts, and flaming red flannel jackets. their heads were covered with rusty felt hats, cocked up at the sides into a triangular shape, and decorated with feathers or bright buckles. on their feet were heavy leathern shoes, fastened with huge brass buckles that covered the entire instep. here and there in the crowd stood a prosperous merchant or man of fashion, whose garb, if less rough than that of his humbler fellow-citizen, was no less odd and picturesque. at first sight, an observer might think that all the men of new york were white-haired; but a closer examination would show that the natural color of the hair was hid by dense layers of white powder. the hair was done up in a short cue tied by black ribbons, and on top of all rested a three-cornered cocked hat, heavily laced with gold or silver braid. the coat was light-colored, with a profusion of silver buttons, stamped with the wearer's monogram, decorating the front. over the shoulders hung a short cape. the knee-breeches, marvellously tight, ended at the tops of gaudy striped stockings, which in turn disappeared in the recesses of pointed shoes adorned with gleaming buckles. the broad cuffs of the coat-sleeves were heavily laden with lead, to keep them in proper position. [illustration: derelict.] such were the characteristics of the crowd that had assembled that day to witness the closing scene of british domination in america. even as they stood there, they heard, faintly rising on the autumnal air, the sound of the fife and drum, as the american troops came marching down into the city, from their camp at the upper end of the island. and, as the last boat-load of grenadiers pushes off from the shore, the crowd, no longer restrained by the glittering bayonets, rushes down to the water's edge, and hurls taunts and gibes after the retreating boats, until the grizzled old soldiers curse the "yankee rebels" fiercely, under their mustaches, and beg the officers to give them a volley. now the advance guard of the little american army, with fifes shrilling out the notes of "yankee doodle," comes marching down to the fort. no gay trappings, scarlet or gold lace about these soldiers, but ragged suits of homespun and homely flint-lock muskets, whose barrels are better burnished within than without. they march quickly to the water-front, and halt. the captain looks at the british squadron, now getting under way, and then, with true soldierly instinct, flashes a glance to the top of the flagstaff in the centre of the fort. his brow contracts, he stamps his foot, and the soldiers and citizens who have followed his glance break out into a cry of rage that rings far out over the placid waters of the bay, and makes the tough old british veterans chuckle grimly over the success of their little joke upon the yankees; for there, high above the heads of the wrathful crowd, flaunting its scarlet folds over the roofs of the liberated city, floats proudly the british flag. "tear it down!" the cry rises hoarsely from a thousand throats; and the colonial officer springs with glittering sword to cut the halliards, but finds them cut away already, and the flag nailed to the mast. then a trim sailor-boy works his way through the crowd, and, grasping the pole firmly, attempts to climb up, but soon slides down ingloriously over the greasy surface, freshly slushed by the british before their departure. the crowd yells in wrathful impotence; and a few hot-headed youths spring forward, axe in hand, to bring down pole and all to the earth. but the firm hand of the commanding officer restrains them. he whispers a few words into their ears; and they start briskly away, followed by a dozen or two of the steadily growing crowd. "gen. washington will be here soon," says the captain; "we must get that rag down at once." [illustration: cutting away the flag.] in a few minutes the messengers return. they have been to a neighboring hardware store, and startled the gray-haired old merchant so that he stared vaguely at them through his spectacles, as they fiercely demanded hammers, nails, and wooden cleats. loaded with these, they dash back to the scene of action; and again the sailor-boy becomes the hero of the moment. with his pockets filled with cleats, and his mouth stuffed with nails, he begins again his ascent of the slippery staff. he nails cleat after cleat upon the pole, and step by step mounts toward the top. at last he reaches the flag; and, with a few quick jerks, it is torn from the pole, and thrown contemptuously out into the air, to float down upon the crowd, and be torn to pieces by curiosity seekers. then the halliards are lowered, and soon the flag of the young and struggling nation floats in the cool breeze; while from the neighboring heights the cannon of the forts speak in deep-mouthed salvos of applause, that mingle with the rejoicings of the people, and do not cease until the ships of the enemy have passed through the narrows, and are out of sight and hearing. the british had evacuated new york, and america had won her independence. not many years, however, had passed after this memorable event, when the citizens not only of new york, but the people of all the united states, began to find out that america had not won her true independence, but merely a slight relief from the oppressions of great britain. already the nations of europe were beginning to encroach upon the rights and liberties of the infant nation. for this the states were themselves greatly to blame. nobly as they had fought in unison to throw off the yoke of great britain, they fell into strife among themselves as soon as the war was at an end, and by their quarrels and bickerings led all the european nations to believe that the contentious colonies, like the kilkenny cats, would end by destroying each other. such a nation could command little respect, and the stronger powers were not slow to show their contempt for the united states. american vessels, coming back to port, would report that a british ship-of-war had halted them in mid-ocean, and seized american sailors as suspected british deserters. other american ships, sailing full of hope from american ports, would never re-appear, and their fate would be a mystery, until, after many months, some sailor wandering home told of his ship's capture by a french privateer or tripolitan war vessel. for years a debasing tribute was paid to the bashaw of tripoli, upon condition of his granting to american ships the privileges of the sea, that are the undoubted rights of every nation; yet even this compact was more often ignored than observed. small wonder was it that the sage old statesman, benjamin franklin, on hearing a young man speak of the "glorious war for independence," responded gravely, "say rather the war of the revolution: the war for independence is yet to be fought." in the year , the states, after much debate and bickering, finally ratified the document known as the constitution of the united states. while the work of the american revolution was thus being completed, and a new nation was being formed, events were transpiring on the other side of the atlantic that were destined to affect gravely the growth of the new nation. the oppressed peasantry and laborers of france, smarting under the wrongs of centuries, rose in a mighty wave, and swept away the nobles, their masters. the royal head of king louis fell a prey to the remorseless spirit of the guillotine, and the reign of terror in paris began. soon the roll of the drum was heard in every european city, and the armies of every nation were on the march for france. england was foremost in the fray; and the people of the united states, seeing their old enemy at war with the country of lafayette, fired by generous enthusiasm, were ready to rush to the aid of their old ally. but the wise prudence of their rulers restrained them; and for the next twenty years the united states were neutrals, while all the nations of europe were plunged in war. the first effect of this condition of affairs was most beneficial. as neutrals, the ships of the united states could trade with all the battling peoples; while any vessel flying a european flag was sure to find an enemy somewhere on the broad seas, and suffer confiscation. while france was giving her farmers and mechanics to follow in the glorious footsteps of napoleon, the industrious citizens of the united states were reaping a rich reward in trade with the warring nation. the farmers received the highest prices for their grain, the ingenious mechanics of new england reaped fortunes from the sale of their wares, and the shipyards were filled to their greatest capacity with the graceful frames of fast clipper vessels destined for the trade with europe. in the shipping of the united states was confined to a few coasting-vessels, and the american flag was seldom seen beyond the atlantic. fifteen years later, the white sails of american ships dotted every sea, and but few european ports did not show some trim clipper floating in the harbor, bearing at her peak the stars and stripes. from maine to georgia the people were building ships, and manning them. the vast forests resounded with the strokes of the woodman's axe, getting out the timber; and the seaport towns were given over to ship-wrights, who worked day and night at their craft. in new england there sprung up a race of hardy seamen. boys of twelve or fourteen ran away to sea, made a coasting voyage or two, and, after a voyage to some european port, became captains of ocean-going ships,--often before they were twenty years of age. the people of the coastwise towns of new england can tell of hundreds of such cases. there was "nat" palmer of stonington, who shipped when a boy of fourteen, and, after four years' coasting, was made second mate of the brig "herselias," bound around cape horn, for seals. on his first voyage the young mate distinguished himself by discovering the south shetland islands, guided by the vague hints of a rival sealer, who knew of the islands, and wished them preserved for his own trade, as the seals swarm there by the hundred thousands. the discovery of these islands, and the cargo of ten thousand skins brought home by the "herselias," made young palmer famous; and, at the age of twenty, he was put in command of a sloop, and sent to the south seas again. one day he found his passage in the desired direction blocked by two long islands, with a narrow opening between them. to go around the islands would have been a long voyage; and the young captain headed his craft for the opening, but soon found himself on the rocks. luckily, the vessel backed off, and the crew set about repairing damages. while thus engaged, the great, blunt head of a whale was seen in the narrow channel; and, after blowing a column of water high in the air, the monster swam lazily through the strait. "if a whale can go through that channel, i can," quoth "cap'n nat." and he forthwith did so. quick of observation, and prompt of action, the sailors of the united states became the foremost seamen of the world, and guided their little vessels over every known sea. but the growing commerce of the united states was destined to meet a series of checks, that seemed for a time likely to destroy it forever. england, jealous of the encroachments of the americans upon the broad seas of which she had long called herself the mistress, began a series of outrages upon american ships, and, not content with acting in open hostility, incited the piratical rulers of tripoli and algiers to make war upon american shipping. in this volume it is not my purpose to tell of the means adopted by england to let the swarming ships of the barbary pirates out of the mediterranean sea, to prey upon the vessels of the united states; nor do i intend to tell how, after peaceful arguments had been exhausted, decatur and preble, with a fleet of american vessels and a handful of fighting jack-tars, crossed the ocean, and thrashed the pirates of the mediterranean into subjection. that may well be left for future consideration, and this chapter devoted to a history of the acts of insolence and oppression on the part of england, that finally forced the united states to declare war against a power so vastly superior to them in wealth, population, and military and naval strength. the first great and crying outrage, protested against by the statesmen, the newspapers, and the people of the united states, was the so-called right of search. by this was meant the right claimed by every british man-of-war to stop an american vessel on the high seas, muster her crew on the forecastle, and seize and carry away any sailor thought to be a native of great britain. this outrageous act was committed time and time again by the commanders of british frigates, who knew no easier way of filling up a short-handed crew than by stopping some passing vessel flying the stars and stripes, and taking from her the best-looking sailors of her crew. hardly a week passed without the arrival of a ship at new york, new london, or any of the shipping towns of new england, bringing some such tale. the merchant-vessel, skimming lightly over the ocean, at peace with all the world, and with nothing to fear save the terrors of the storms, against which the sturdy mariners knew so well how to guard, would be suddenly halted by a shot from a frigate of a nation with whom the united states had no quarrel. a hail from the frigate told the american to come up into the wind, while a boat was sent aboard. soon a long-boat filled with man-o'-war's men, and with a beardless young midshipman in the stern-sheets, came dancing over the water; and in a minute or two a lieutenant, the middy, and a few sailors clambered aboard the wondering merchantman. there was small ceremony about the proceedings then. "muster your men aft," quoth the middy peremptorily; "and you'd better be quick about it, too." perhaps the american captain protested,--they generally did,--and talked about the peace between the nations, and the protection of his flag; but his talk was usually of little avail. "get those man aft, and be quick about it," orders the british officer. "you've got deserters from his majesty's service in your crew; and i'll have them. do you want me to send the boat back for the marines?" the american crew came aft unwillingly, grumbling, and cursing his majesty's service under their breath, and formed a line before the boarding officer. that worthy whispered a minute or two with the boatswain and sailors who came aboard with him, and then, pointing out one man, boldly claimed him as a british subject. american captains declared that the man so chosen was generally the most ship-shape sailor aboard; and indeed it seemed but natural that the english, in filling out their crew, should choose the best. sometimes the american captain went on board the british ship, to protest against so summary a draft upon his crew. in such a case he was usually received with courtesy by the commander, but never did he regain his kidnapped sailors. the commander trusted in every thing to his first lieutenant, who boarded the merchantman; and that officer was thus made, in the words of an english journalist, "at once accuser, witness, judge, and captor." the men thus pressed were expected to serve with all the zeal and bravery of regularly enlisted sailors. the slightest sign of hesitation or unwillingness was met with blows. a pressed man who refused to serve was triced up, and lashed with the cat-o'-nine tails until his back was cut to ribbons, and the blood spurted at every blow. few cared to endure such punishment twice. yet the sailors taken from the american ships lost no opportunity for showing their desire to get out of the service into which they had been kidnapped. desertions from ships lying near the coast were of weekly occurrence, although recaptured deserters were hanged summarily at the yard-arm. sailors who found no chance to desert made piteous appeals to the american consuls in the ports at which they stopped, or wrote letters to their friends at home, begging that something should be done to release them from their enforced service. it was not the severity of man-o'-war discipline that so troubled the poor fellows; many of them were old man-o'-war's men, and all would have been glad of berths in the united states navy; but the sight of the red flag of great britain waving above their heads, and the thought that they were serving a nation with which their country had just fought a bloody war, were intolerable. one "pressed man," on a british ship lying in the west indies, managed to write the following letter to a newspaper editor in new york, and, after much planning, succeeded in mailing it. port royal, jamaica, june , . mr. snowden,--i hope you will be so good as to publish these few lines. i, edwin bouldin, was impressed out of the barque "columbus" of elizabeth city, and was carried on board his britannic majesty's brig "rhodian," in montego bay, commanded by capt. mowbary. he told me my protection was of no consequence, and he would have me whether or not. i was born in baltimore, and served my time with messrs. smith & buchanan. i hope my friends will do something for me to get my clearance; for i do not like to serve any other country but my own, which i am willing to serve. i am now captain of the forecastle, and stationed captain of a gun in the waist. i am treated very ill, because i will not enter. they request of me to go on board my country's ships to list men, which i refused to do, and was threatened to be punished for it. i remain a true citizen of the united states edwin bouldin. pathetic letters such as this appear often in the columns of the newspapers published in the early part of this century; and are usually accompanied by petitions from the relatives and friends of the pressed man, begging that congress take some action to secure american sailors from such outrages. but year after year the practice went on, and higher and higher grew the enmity between england and the united states. among the sailors who suffered impressment at the hands of the british were many who afterward in the naval battles of the ensuing war won ample revenge from the nation that had so abused their liberties. most prominent of all these men was david porter, who, from the humble station of a cabin boy on his father's ship in , rose in twenty years to be commodore in the united states navy. the name of porter is one famous in the naval annals of the united states; and probably there never existed a family in which the love for the life of a fighting jack-tar was so strong as among these representative american sailors. david porter, sen., and samuel porter served the american colonies dashingly upon the sea in the revolution. of david porter, jun., we shall have much to say in this volume. of his children the eldest, william d., rose to the post of commodore, united states navy, and died of wounds received in the civil war; henry o. porter was first lieutenant of the "hatteras" when she sunk before the fire of the confederate ship "alabama;" thomas porter served in the mexican navy; hambleton porter died of yellow-fever while a midshipman in the united states navy; lieut. theodoric porter, u.s.a., was the first officer killed in the mexican war; and admiral david d. porter, u.s.n., by virtue of his exploits on blue water and in the ditches and bayous back of vicksburg during the civil war, now stands at the head of living naval officers. but to return to david porter. he was sixteen years old, when, in , his father, having obtained command of a vessel in the west india trade, determined to take the lad to sea, that he might learn the profession of his ancestors. it was hardly a favorable time to inspire an independent boy with admiration for the life of an american merchant sailor. the united states had no navy to protect its merchant ships; and the british cruisers that scoured the ocean felt little hesitation about boarding the ships of the infant nation, and kidnapping such sailors as they might desire. of this young porter soon had evidence. while his ship, the "eliza," was lying in the port of jeremie in san domingo, a british frigate came into the harbor, and dropped anchor near by. one morning the lookout on the "eliza" saw a boat, manned by armed men, put off from the frigate, and steer for the american merchantman. the movement was quickly reported to capt. porter, who was too old a seaman not to know what it portended, and too plucky an american to submit willingly to any indignity. his preparations were quickly made; and by the time the frigate's boat came alongside, the crew of the "eliza" were armed and ready to rush to the deck at the first alarm. capt. porter with his officers and son stood on the quarter-deck, and awaited with great dignity the arrival of the boat. soon the british came alongside; and an officer in the stern-sheets announced that he was about to board the "eliza," and demanded to search the vessels for deserters from the british service. capt. porter replied that his was an american ship, and the british might board at their peril; for he was armed, and would resist the boarders to the last extremity. a great laugh went up from the boat alongside. a yankee merchantman to resist british sailors, indeed! and the officer, without more ado, ordered his men to board. hardly had the order passed his lips, than porter's clear voice rang out, "repel boarders!" and the crew of the "eliza," armed with pikes and muskets, rushed upon their assailants, and drove them into the sea. young porter was not behindhand in the fight, but lent his boyish aid to the vindication of american sailors' rights. one man was shot down by his side; and porter received his first baptism of blood in this encounter, which thus early rooted in his mind a detestation for the arrogance of the british, and a determination to devote his life to the cause of his seafaring countrymen. on his second voyage, a year later, young porter was destined to experience still further the hardships and ignominy which american sailors only too often encountered at the hands of the british. once again the boy, now a first officer, was walking the deck of his vessel in a san domingo port, when a boat's-crew from a british frigate came on board on the usual errand of impressment. this time the sturdy, independent spirit of the elder porter was absent; and the captain of the american vessel basely permitted a portion of his crew, among whom was porter, to be carried aboard the frigate, where they were to be kept until they agreed to enlist. loaded with irons, they were thrust into "the brig," or guard-room of the frigate; but, though the case seemed hopeless, porter gallantly refused to enter the king's service, and ceaselessly exhorted his comrades to stand firm against the commands of the british. days passed, and still the frigate's crew was in no wise increased from among the obstinate americans. the british captain lost patience, and commanded that all the prisoners be brought out on deck, triced up, and publicly flogged with the cat-of-nine tails, for "the bad example they set the crew of his majesty's ship." the order was duly put into execution. the prisoners, still ironed, were brought up under a heavy guard, and taken to the gratings; but when young porter reached the deck, and saw the ignominious punishment in store for him, he fought desperately with his guards, and, finally breaking away, ran below, and hid in some corner of the hold, from which the most careful search failed to dislodge him. the captain finally gave orders to leave him alone, saying, "he'll come out fast enough when he gets hungry." but the lad did not wait for hunger to drive him from his hiding-place. that very night he came from the hold, crawled stealthily across the deck, and dropped into the water, regardless of the sharks that abound in those tropic seas. a short swim took him to a danish vessel, by which he was carried across the atlantic. only after many months of voyaging as a common sailor did the lad succeed in working his way back to his home. even this experience could not deter the young seaman from again seeking employment upon the billowy main, and for the third time he shipped upon an american merchantman. again his course lay toward the west indies, and again he was intercepted by the inevitable man-of-war. this time he was not so fortunate as to escape until after a month or more of captivity, during which time he was treated with the greatest cruelty on account of his persistent refusal to serve under any flag save that of his own country. at last he made his escape, and reached home. by this time he was naturally somewhat disgusted with the life of a sailor on an american merchant-vessel; and he cast about for an appointment to the navy, which he soon received. it is impossible to doubt that his three adventures with the british press-gang had much to do with the ardor and bravery with which in later days the young sailor, then elevated to the highest ranks, did battle with the enemies of his country. when, at the close of the war of , the veteran naval officer looked back upon his record during that conflict, he could point to one captured british man-of-war and scores of captured british merchantmen as the measure of his retaliation for the wrongs done him as a defenceless american sailor-boy. oliver hazard perry, of whose famous victory over the british on lake erie we shall speak later, also was brought into conflict with the british in the days of the "right of search." his father, christopher raymond perry, in command of the united states ship "gen. greene," was escorting an american brig freighted with a valuable cargo. near gibraltar they were sighted by a british man-of-war, which bore down quickly upon the two ships. perry was an old and cautious naval officer; and, though peace reigned between his country and great britain, he no sooner saw an armed vessel approaching, than he put his vessel in trim for action, and sent the crew to the guns. nearer and nearer came the great english man-o'-war; and, as she came within range, a puff of smoke burst from her bow-port, and a ball skipped along the water before perry's unarmed convoy, conveying a forcible invitation to heave to. perry at once made signal to his convoy to pay no regard to the englishman; and, setting the american flag, the two ships continued on their way. but at this moment the breeze died away, and all three ships lay becalmed within easy range of each other. the british captain was not slow to take advantage of this; and a boat soon put off from his ship, and made for the american brig. this move perry promptly checked by a shot from the "gen. greene," which so narrowly missed the boat that the crew thought it well to run alongside the american man-o'-war, and arrange the matter peaceably. as the boat came alongside the "gen. greene," the gangway was manned, and the british officer escorted with the greatest formality to perry's presence. he at once stated his purpose in attempting to board the merchantman; claiming that, by virtue of the right of search, he was entitled to visit the brig, and examine into the nationality of her crew. "i deny the existence of any right, on the part of british vessels, to search any american vessel, except with the consent of the american commander," responded perry; "and my shot was intended to warn you that you had received no such permission." by this time the british vessel had come within hailing distance of the "gen. greene;" and the captain demanded why his boat had been fired upon, and was now detained. perry responded in the same words with which he had answered the boarding-officer. "it's a most surprising thing," shouted the englishman, losing his temper, "if a british seventy-four-gun ship cannot search a pitiful little yankee merchantman." "by heaven!" responded perry. "if you were a ship of the first rate, you should not do it, to the dishonor of my flag." and in an instant the ports of the "gen. greene" were triced up, and the british captain saw that his adversary was prepared for battle. after a moment's thought, he abandoned all attempts at violence, and sent a courteous letter to perry, begging leave to visit the brig in search of british deserters, which request perry as courteously granted. to this list of american seamen who suffered indignities at the hands of the british, and afterwards won reparation from their enemies in the war of , may be added the name of joshua barney. few americans have given to their country a longer service or more efficient aid than he. in the little colonial navy of the revolution, he held high rank, and won the plaudits of older sailors. at the close of the revolution, he served for a time in the merchant-marine; then entered the naval service of france, and, at the first news of war between england and america, returned to his country, to enlist under the stars and stripes. it was while he was in command of a merchantman that he was brought into collision with the british in a way that well might make the doughty old sea-dog doubt if the revolutionary days, when he suffered in the noisome confines of mill prison, had not come again. it was in the summer of , that the good ship "sampson," two days out from cape françois, west indies, was slowly making her way northward, over the tropic seas, and under the glaring rays of the summer sun of the torrid zone. capt. barney and his crew were ever on the watch for danger; for, in addition to the hurricanes and typhoons common to the equatorial latitudes, much was to be feared from the lawless british privateers that then swarmed in the west indies and bermudas. that the "sampson" was under the flag of a neutral power, was but little protection; for the commanders of the semi-piratical craft cared little for international law or for justice. war was raging between france and england; and a mere suspicion of traffic with french colonies was enough, in the eyes of these worthies, to condemn a vessel of any nationality. knowing his danger, capt. barney strove to avoid the localities frequented by the privateers, but to no avail. one bright morning, the lookout reported three sail in sight from the masthead, and in a few hours barney found himself hemmed in by privateers. three officers boarded him, and began a rigid examination of the cargo and papers. two finally expressed themselves as satisfied of the neutral character of the vessel; but the third exclaimed that he had discovered in the cabin an iron chest, full of money, which surely proved that the "sampson" had something to do with the french, for "no blasted yankee ever had iron chests or dollars on board his vessel!" such conclusive proof as this could not be overlooked by the sapient privateers; and, after a little consultation, they informed capt. barney that they would let the ship go, if the money were given to them. as it amounted to eighteen thousand dollars, capt. barney looked upon this demand as nothing short of robbery, and indignantly refused to consider it; whereupon his captors took from the "sampson" all her crew except the carpenter, boatswain, and cook, sent a prize-crew aboard, and ordered that she be taken to new providence, a british naval station. the privateers were soon hull down on the horizon; and barney found himself a prisoner on his own ship, exposed to ceaseless insolence from the british prize-master. [illustration: commodore perry.] several days passed, as the "sampson" lay becalmed in the tropics. barney, though too old a sailor to be cast down by misfortune, nevertheless chafed under his situation. from prize-master and prize-crew he received nothing but scurrilous epithets; and the oft-repeated murmurs of "rebel rascal!" "yankee traitor!" "blow out his brains!" and "throw him overboard!" made it hard for him to believe the revolution over, and the united states and england at peace. even while they thus abused the captain, the rogues were feasting upon his provisions and drinking his wines; and only his firm refusal to give up his keys prevented their rifling his iron chest, and filling their pockets with his dollars. at last he began to feel that his life was no longer safe in the hands of his captors; and, though he had by him but three men of his original crew, he determined to attempt to recapture the ship. one evening the captain managed to catch a few minutes' conversation with the carpenter and boatswain of his own crew, and broached to them the project for a recapture. no argument was needed to induce these bold men to embark in the perilous enterprise. indeed, from the very moment of the capture, they must have cherished some such purpose; for each had hidden away in his bunk a gun and bayonet. barney, on his part, had secreted a small brass blunderbuss and a broad-sword; and with this meagre armament the three determined to take the ship from its captors. the success of the project then depended upon a favorable opportunity, and the three conspirators watched eagerly for the decisive moment to arrive. at last there came a day so squally that all the prize-crew were kept busy with the sails all the morning. much exhausted, the sailors sat down to their dinner on the forecastle at noon, while the three british officers spread their mess amidships. barney saw that the moment had arrived; and, giving the signal to his men, the plotters went below for their weapons. barney was the first to re-appear,--the blunderbuss, loaded and cocked, in his hand, and the naked cutlass under his arm. hardly had he stepped on deck when one of the officers saw him, and, throwing down dishes and dinner, sprang at the american and grappled with him. barney struggled violently, and soon managing to get the blunderbuss against his enemy's shoulder, fired it, filling the wretch's arm and side with buckshot. freed from his adversary, the gallant captain cut down with a blow of his cutlass the second prize officer, who was advancing upon him; and the third, seeing his two companions lying, drenched with blood, upon the deck, ran below. in the mean time the crew, startled from their dinner by the report of the blunderbuss, had rushed below for their weapons; but the last man had hardly dived down the hatchway when the wily carpenter and boatswain rushed forward, clapped on the hatches, and in a trice had the british sailors nicely cooped up in the forecastle. the two wounded officers were quickly cared for, and the unhurt fugitive secured; and barney found himself again in control of the ship. the victors then held a consultation as to their future action. they controlled the ship, it was true; but what were three men to do with a full-rigged ship on the stormy atlantic? clearly they must get aid from their captives, or all might go to the bottom together. accordingly the three, with loaded weapons, went forward, and standing at the hatchway, proposed terms to the imprisoned sailors below. capt. barney acted as spokesman. "you shall be released from confinement," cried he to the captives, "and may now come on deck one at a time, each one bringing his weapons with him." the hatches were then thrown back, and the carpenter and boatswain stood with cutlasses and muskets ready to cut down the first who should make an offensive movement. the british saw the preparations for their reception, and came up one at a time as ordered. as each came up, his arms were seized and thrown overboard; and a gruff order given for him to go forward. before long the crew, deprived of all means of resistance, were gathered on the forecastle. barney then retired to the quarter-deck, and ordered that the crew be mustered before him. "you are now my prisoners," said he; "and i have not only the power, but the right, to hang every man jack of you. you seized this vessel without any just cause, and simply because you were the stronger; and you have further used that strength to abuse and ill-treat me and waste my property. i do not propose to execute you, but will give you the choice of two alternatives. you may either stay with me and work this ship to baltimore, there to be discharged with wages; or i will give you a small boat with provisions, and set you adrift to shift for yourselves. one condition i attach to the first alternative. if one of you is seen talking with his former officers, or if one man steps abaft the main-mast, he shall be instantly shot." [illustration: barney regains his ship.] the crew wasted no time in deliberation, but decided to stay with the ship, and at once went forward on duty. then began a fortnight of ceaseless watchfulness and grave anxiety for capt. barney. at night he never closed his eyes, but took his sleep by day in an armchair on deck, his blunderbuss and cutlass by his side, and a sentinel ready to awaken him at the slightest alarm. at last, however, he brought his ship safely to baltimore, and discharged his crew. but the memory of that month of violence remained with him; and we shall hear of him again as a brave sailor in the service of the united states, and an uncompromising foe to england. among the most adventurous of american merchant seamen in the days following the revolution was capt. thomas macdonough. like others of his class, his daring and ability as a navigator gained him a commission in the very small american navy of that time. on one occasion the united states ship "siren," of which he was first lieutenant, was lying at anchor in the harbor of gibraltar, surrounded by a number of merchantmen, from the peak of one of which floated the stars and stripes. while pacing the deck one bright afternoon, macdonough observed a boat manned with armed men put off from a british man-of-war that rode at anchor a mile away. at once his suspicions were aroused, and with a strong glass he watched the movements of the british. as he had expected, the boat steered straight for the american merchantman; and through his glass macdonough could see the boarders scramble over the bulwarks of the vessel, and soon thereafter return to their boat, taking with them a man dressed in the garb of a merchant seaman, and tightly bound. the captain of the "siren" was on shore; and macdonough, as the officer in command, determined that so audacious an impressment should not succeed under the guns of an american war-vessel, small though she might be. "clear away the long-boat," he shouted; and the boat quickly was lowered to the water, and a dozen jackies grasped the oars. macdonough sprung into the stern-sheets, and grasped the tiller. "let fall! give way! pull hard, men!" he gave the orders in quick succession, and laid his course straight for the british boat, which was soon overtaken. he laid his boat alongside the british cutter, and demanded that the captive be given up. the english officer began to protest, but macdonough cut his protests short. "you have no right to that man. he is an american sailor.--tumble in here, my man." the pressed man, delighted with the prospect of rescue, sprang into the american boat; and before the british officer had recovered from his amazement sufficiently to offer resistance, the blue-jackets were pulling away toward the "siren," with the long, swinging, man-o'-war stroke. when he reached his vessel, macdonough retired to his cabin to await further developments, which were not long in appearing. "boat from the british frigate heading for the ship, sir," reported the officer of the deck, in a few minutes. "very good, sir. have the gangway manned," returned the lieutenant. the boat was soon alongside; and the british captain, white with rage, leaped to the gangway, and was shown to lieut. macdonough's cabin. "how dare you take a man from a boat of his majesty's ship, sir?" was his salutation. "'dare' is not a word to be spoken to an officer of the united states navy," responded macdonough. "as for the man, he is a citizen of the united states; and i propose to protect him, at all hazards." "i'll bring my frigate alongside, and sink your beggarly little craft," shouted the visitor, with a volley of oaths. "that you may do," responded the american; "but while she swims, the man you shall not have." "you are a hair-brained young fellow, and will repent this rashness," cried the irate briton. "do you mean to say, that, if i had been in that boat, you would have dared to commit such an act?" "i should have made the attempt, sir, at all hazards." "what, sir!" shouted the captain, greatly enraged, "would you venture to interfere, if i should now impress men from that brig?" "you have but to try it, sir," was the pithy response. and the british captain returned to his frigate, vowing all sorts of vengeance, but nevertheless did not again annoy the american ship. while the popular clamor against the hateful right of search was still at its height in america, great britain unwisely added yet another outrage to the already long list of grievances complained of by the americans. notwithstanding the danger of barbary pirates and british impressment, the merchants of the united states were carrying on a thriving trade with france. england, then at war with the great napoleon, looked upon this commerce at first with disfavor, and finally with such intense hatred that she determined to put an end to it altogether. accordingly, she issued the celebrated "orders in council," forbidding all traffic with french ports. for such action the imperious nation had no authority by any principle of international law. her blockade of the french ports was very imperfect, and easily evaded. it is a perfectly well-established principle of the common law of nations that a blockade, to be legal, must be complete and effective; otherwise, it is known as a "paper blockade," and neutral vessels are justified in attempting to evade it. instead of posting blockading vessels at the entrances of french ports, to warn off all vessels, great britain contented herself with licensing hordes of privateers, that roamed the seas and snapped up vessels with little regard to law or justice. hundreds of american vessels were thus captured; for our trade with france and the french west indian colonies at that time was of vast proportions. the ocean soon became so infested with privateers that every american merchantman carried cannon, and an array of small-arms that would have done credit to a sloop-of-war. the new england sailors became able naval fighters, as well as experienced seamen; for a man shipping for a voyage knew well that, in addition to battling with the angry elements, he might be required to sight truly the great "long tom," or beat back piratical boarders at the muzzle of the muskets. but even these heroic remedies could not save many a good ship. occurrences such as these fanned into flaming fury the smouldering fires of the american hatred for great britain. the people saw their old oppressor and enemy engaged in war with their old ally france, and the popular cry went up for a union of france and the united states against england. happily, the statesmen of the time--washington, hamilton, and jay--were too firm of purpose, and too clear-sighted, to be led away by popular clamor; and they wisely kept the united states government in a position of neutrality between the two nations. deep and loud were the murmurs of the people at this action. could true-hearted americans desert their friends in such a manner? never! and so, whatever might be the policy of the rulers, the many-headed people welcomed french ambassadors, fêted the officers of visiting men-of-war, and hung the tricolor and the stars and stripes side by side on all public holidays. it was in , while the popular affection for france was at its height, that a merchant-vessel flying the british flag sailed into boston harbor, and made fast to the long wharf. under her stern appeared the legend, "the betsy of st. croix;" her decks were littered with poultry and domestic animals, her cordage flapped loosely in the breeze, and every thing about her bespoke the merchant-vessel. her captain, being hailed by the dock-loafers, and made the victim of the proverbial yankee inquisitiveness, stated that he had just come from the west indies with a load of lignum-vitæ, pineapples, and hides, which he hoped to sell in boston. the self-constituted investigating committee seemed satisfied, and the captain strolled on into the city. but the french consul at boston was far from satisfied, and he took care to let his suspicions become generally known. "that innocent-looking merchantman is a british privateer," quoth he; "and it's a shame to harbor her in the good port of boston, amid french-loving people." the consul's words spread like wildfire; and his suspicions soon passed for facts, without any supporting proof. no one knows who was the writer, or who the printer; but in a few hours the people upon the streets had thrust into their hands the following handbill:-- this night will be performed at the steps bottom of long wharf a comedy of stripping the bermudian privateer. citizens. remember there have been near three hundred of our american vessels taken by these bermudians, and have received the most barbarous treatment from those damn'd pirates!!! now, americans, if you feel the spirit of resentment or revenge kindling in your hearts, let us be united in the cause. this was enough to rouse the turbulent people of boston to action. they well remembered the winter's night, twenty-two years before, when their harbor was the scene of the first protest against the oppression of great britain. then they threw overboard the tea, and spared the ships; this time ship and cargo alike should be destroyed. when night fell, small bodies of men could be seen marching down to the wharfs, through the narrow, crooked streets of the old town. before eight o'clock long wharf was crowded with an angry mob. on the deck of the threatened vessel stood the captain, arguing and pleading with the crowd, and at times pointing to the scarlet flag above his head, and threatening his assailants with the wrath of mighty england. argument, entreaty, and threats proved unavailing; and the crowd, gaining courage with numbers, rushed upon the vessel, and ordered captain and crew ashore. leaving the scene, the captain rushed wildly into the city in search of the british consul; and, in his absence, the mob began to search his ship. an active and careful search soon brought to light in an out-of-the-way corner of the hold two swivel-guns, two three-pounders, forty charges of shot, fifteen pounds of powder, and eight muskets. all was piled upon the deck, and pointed out to the captain on his return, amid frantic yells from the enraged populace. he solemnly protested that the ordnance was only intended for purposes of defence against the pirates that infested the bermudas. but the case was already judged. the people laughed at the captain's declarations; and in a few minutes the "betsy," a mass of flame, was drifting across the harbor to the charlestown beach. there she blazed away, while the crowd watched the bonfire from the dock, until the last timbers of the ship fell with a hiss into the black waters, and all was dark again. popular sympathy is at best but an unstable sentiment, and so it proved with this unreasoning affection of the american people for france. firmly the american authorities held to their policy of neutrality, refusing to be influenced in the slightest degree by the popular clamor of the people for an alliance with france. then the french sympathizers made their fatal error. in the presidential chair of the united states sat washington, the hero of the revolution. rashly the french minister and his following began an onslaught upon this great and wise man, because of his firm determination to keep the united states neutral. they accused him of being an "aristocrat;" of wishing to found an hereditary monarchy, with himself at the head. no epithet was too vile for them to apply to him: "liar" and "traitor" were terms freely applied to him whom we regard as the veritable founder of our free republic. such intemperate and unreasoning malice as this had a very different effect from what was intended by the french sympathizers, or republicans as the party was then termed. the party supporting the president gained strength and influence, even while the actions of napoleon and the french chamber of deputies were giving american seamen the same grounds of complaint as those which great britain had so long forced upon them. it was during the last year of the administration of washington, that the french directory issued secret orders to the commanders of all french men-of-war, directing them to treat neutral vessels in the same manner as they had suffered the english to treat them. the cunning intent of this order is apparent by its wording: "treat american vessels as they suffer themselves to be treated by the british." what course does that leave open to the americans, save to resist the british, thereby become involved in a war, and so aid france? but there was one other alternative; and, much to the surprise and chagrin of the french, the americans adopted it. and the only effect of the diplomatic secret order was to embroil france in a naval war with the united states. the condition of american commerce, after the promulgation of the french decree, became deplorable indeed. a merchant-vessel flying the american flag was never safe unless under the guns of an american war-vessel; and the reduction of the navy had made these few indeed. should the brig "nancy" or "sarah jane" put out from the little port of salem or new london, she was certain to be overhauled by some british frigate, whose boarding officer would pick from the brig's crew a few able sailors, and leave her to make her way short-handed as best she might. next would come along some french frigate or privateer,--some "terreur," "incroyable," or "insurgente,"--whose astute officers would quickly notice the gaps in the american crew, and, finding out that the brig had been boarded by the english, would declare her a prize for having given aid to the enemies of _la belle france_. should the little brig be so fortunate as to escape the civilized belligerents, there were still the pirates of tripoli, the picaroons of the french west indies, and the unauthorized and irresponsible pirates, who, with forged commissions and flying the spanish or portuguese colors, ravaged the seas in all directions. the career of an american merchantman at that time is admirably told by our great novelist fenimore cooper in his sea-tale of "miles wallingford." the fate of the good brig "dawn" was the fate of too many an american vessel in those turbulent times; and the wondrous literary art with which the novelist has expanded the meagre records of the times into an historical novel of surpassing interest makes an acquaintance with the book essential to a proper knowledge of american naval history. the first act of retaliation on the part of the united states was the embargo ordered by congress, which prohibited any vessel from leaving american ports. this action had two effects. it quickly brought about great distress in european countries, which even then relied much on the united states for food. this was the chief object of the embargo. the second effect was inevitable. the sudden check upon all foreign commerce plunged business in all parts of the united states into stagnation. sailors out of work thronged the streets of the seaport towns. farmers trudged weary miles beside their ox-teams, only to find, when they had hauled their produce to town, that there was no market for it. along the docks the ships lay idly tugging at their cables, or stranded on the flats as the tide went out. merchants discharged their clerks, and great warehouses were locked up and deserted. for nearly a year the ports were closed, and commerce thus languished. then congress substituted for the embargo the non-intercourse act, which simply prohibited commerce with france and england; and again the american flag appeared upon the ocean. but the two warring nations had learned neither wisdom nor justice, and began again their depredations upon the unoffending americans. envoys were sent to france to protest against the outrageous action of that nation; but they were told that no audience could be granted them, unless they paid into the french treasury two hundred and forty thousand dollars. this last insult was too great. the envoys returned home, told of their treatment, and the war party in the united states rallied to the defence of their nation's honor, shouting pinckney's noble sentiment, "_millions for defence, but not one cent for tribute_." chapter ii. war with france. -- the building of a navy. -- first success for the americans. -- cutting out the "sandwich." -- the "constellation" and "l'insurgente." -- the "constellation" and "la vengeance." while france and england were waging a desperate and bloody war, the united states was like a shuttlecock, being struck repeatedly by the diplomatic battledores of each nation. between the british "orders in council" and the french "milan decree," american commerce was in a fair way of being obliterated. to declare war against both nations, would have been absurd in so young a people; and for months, and even years, the fierce contests of political parties in the united states made a declaration of war against either aggressor impracticable. now the franco-maniacs were in the ascendency, and the country rang with praises of france,--the nation which had cast off aristocrats, and, like america, was devoted to republican principles; the nation which had aided the colonies in their war for freedom. what though a french privateer did occasionally seize an american ship? the americans alone were to blame for that; for was not their attitude toward england, their natural foe, enough to inflame the french? and were not the british aggressions more oppressive than those of france? war there must be, but let it be declared against the hated british. such were the sentiments of the french sympathizers, or democrats as they were then termed in political parlance. but the english sympathizers, or federalists, held very different opinions. they made no attempt to excuse the offensive attitude assumed by england, but claimed that so soon as her war with france was over she would admit the injustice of her actions, and make due reparation for the injuries she had heaped upon american commerce. but they pointed out that for one vessel taken by england, ten were seized by french privateers, or piratical vessels of nondescript nationality, but bearing french papers. as for france loving republican principles, her republicanism was founded upon blood and the guillotine. she was no longer the nation that had aided the struggling colonies. she was the nation that had foully murdered the kind king who had lent that aid two decades before. besides these arguments, the federalists did not scruple to hint, that, in a second war with england, the united states might lose the independence so recently won, while the navy of france was not so greatly to be dreaded. indeed, the american people of that day might well be excused for lethargy in resenting the insults of any first-class naval power. it is not too strong a statement, to say that at this time, when the need was greatest, the united states had no navy. at the close of the revolution, the navy had been disbanded, the ships sold, and the officers dispersed among the vessels of the merchant marine. this fact alone is enough to account for the depredations of french, english, portuguese, tripolitans, and the hordes of pirates without a country. is there no lesson in this? from this lesson of history cannot we deduce the rule that a nation with , miles of seacoast, a republic hated by all monarchies, must maintain its sea-power if it would maintain its honor? the naval regeneration begun in ought not to be checked until the united states ranks next to great britain as a naval power. but the depredations of the enemies of american commerce at last reached such a point that congress could no longer overlook the necessity for an american navy. in march, , congress, after listening to a message from the president detailing the depredations of the algerines, passed an act authorizing the construction or purchase of six frigates, or an equivalent naval force. this was the beginning of the present united states navy; for some of the frigates built under that law are still afloat, although no longer exposed to the rude shocks of battle or the still more violent onslaughts of the mighty ocean. in accordance with the law, the frames of six frigates were quickly laid upon the stocks at six different shipyards; and even while the ribs were yet uncovered, commanders were selected for the unbuilt ships. the names of ships and officers alike are famous in american annals, and may well be mentioned here. the "constitution," "president," "united states," "chesapeake," "constellation," and "congress" were the vessels begun at this time; and the rolls of no navy of the world ever bore six more famous names. the captains chosen were john barry, samuel nicholson, silas talbot, joshua barney, richard dale, and thomas truxton. of these, all save truxton had served the colonies in the revolution. barney narrowly escaped being totally disowned by his country, because while holding a commission in the french navy he had once accidentally hoisted the american flag upside down. a cry went up from his enemies, that it was an intentional insult to the country; but his friends, with justice, pleaded that the flag had been wet, and a sailor, running it up to dry, had thus carelessly inverted it. in the mean time the building of the ships went merrily on, until, when they were nearly finished, a disgraceful treaty was made with algiers, and work on the new navy was neglected, and three of the unfinished ships sold. but in the french depredations became so unbearable that work was hastened; and cities and towns, not satisfied with the three frigates provided for, began collecting subscriptions for the purchase of ships, to be presented to the government. the first of the frigates building by the government to reach the water was the "united states." as the first vessel built by the united states under the constitution, her launch was an event to be celebrated. at noon on the bright may afternoon chosen, the streets of philadelphia leading to the ship-yard, where the hull of the great frigate lay upon the stocks, were thronged with holiday-making people. the sun had hardly risen, when anxious spectators began to seize upon the best points of observation about the ship-yard. the hour of the launch was set at one p.m.; and for hours before the crowd of watchers sung patriotic songs, cheered for congress and the new navy, and anxiously debated the chances of a successful launch. the river was covered with pleasure-craft, decked with flags, and bright with the gay dresses of ladies. the great frigate, too, was a mass of bunting from stem to stern. at one precisely, the blows of many hammers were heard knocking out the blocks; and, after a moment's trembling pause, the first united states frigate glided swiftly into the water, and, after a graceful dip, rode buoyantly on the placid surface of the delaware. [illustration: toasting the wooden walls of columbia.] while the ships were building, the war-feeling against france was steadily growing, and the enthusiasm of the people over the infant navy knew no bounds. toasts to the "wooden walls of columbia," and the "rising navy of america," were drunk with cheers at stately public banquets, and by bands of jolly roisterers at tap-houses. the patriotic song writer invaded the columns of the newspapers; and, as these could not afford space for all the poetic effusions, they were printed on broadsides, and hawked about the streets. at harvard college the students made the chapel walls ring with the ode written by joseph story:-- "shall gallia's clan our coast invade, with hellish outrage scourge the main, insult our nation's neutral trade, and we not dare our rights maintain? rise, united harvard's band, rise, the bulwark of our land." admirable as may be the patriotism of this ode, the poetry is not above criticism; but it is classic in comparison with many others. the following stanza and chorus will show the character of one of the most popular street-songs of the day:-- "americans, then fly to arms, and learn the way to use 'em. if each man fights to 'fend his rights, the french can't long abuse 'em. yankee doodle (mind the tune), yankee doodle dandy; for the french there's trouble brewin': we'll spank 'em, hand and handy." from maine to georgia the mania for writing such doggerel spread with a rapidity only equalled by the avidity with which the people seized upon the songs, and sung them. a complete collection of these remarkable efforts of poetic art would form an amusing volume, and from it alone a history of political movements in the united states might be written. that even such wretched doggerel had its effect upon popular sentiment, cannot be doubted; for has it not been said, "i care not who makes the laws of a nation, let me but write its songs"? but the manifestation of the growing ill-feeling towards france was not confined to poor but harmless poetizing. the first open rupture took place at savannah. in the port of that city were lying two long, rakish schooners flying the french tricolor. their decks were crowded with men, whose rough actions and brutal countenances showed them to be no respecters of law or order. it did not need the rows of cannon protruding from the ports, nor the carefully covered "long toms" amidships, to indicate to the good people of savannah that their harbor sheltered two french privateers. among the seafaring people of the city, the sight of these two vessels aroused the greatest anger. were they not representatives of the nation whose ships were seizing and burning american vessels in the west indies almost daily? perhaps these very vessels were then fresh from an action with some american ship. who could tell that the holds of the privateers did not at that very minute contain the best part of the cargo of some captured american vessel? probably the last shot fired from that "long tom" had crashed into the side of some little brig flying the stars and stripes, and perhaps ended the career of many an american sailor. from suspicions and conjectures, positive statements soon grew. it was whispered about that the two privateers had recently plundered and burned a yankee ship returning from the west indies with a goodly store of specie in exchange for her cargo. those cut-throat-looking frenchmen were even then stained with the blood of true americans. the money they threw on the bars of water-side dram-shops, in exchange for the vile rum which was the worst enemy of too many a good jack-tar, was looked upon with suspicion. "what yankee's pockets did johnny crapaud pick to get all that money?" growled the american sailors. the frenchmen were not slow in discovering the dislike manifested by the people of savannah; and like true soldiers of fortune, as they were, they did nothing to make friends of their enemies. they came ashore in troops instead of singly. cutlasses hung at their sides. their tight leather belts held many a knife or clumsy pistol. their walk on the street was a reckless swagger; and a listener who could understand french could catch in their loud conversation many a scornful sneer or braggart defiance of the americans. [illustration: commodore macdonough.] such a state of affairs could not long continue. each party was ready and waiting to fight, and it was not hard to find an excuse. how the fighting began, no one ever knew; but one night the streets of the little city resounded with cries of rage and groans of agony. soon crowds began to gather; and sailors rushed up and down the streets, crying that the french desperadoes had killed three americans. the rage of the populace, and particularly of the seafaring community, had no bounds. "arm! arm! and take bloody vengeance upon the murderers," was the cry in all quarters. the mob blocked all the roadways leading to the water-front. with cutlasses and guns they attacked the sailors on "l'agile," which lay at a wharf, and drove them overboard. once in possession of the ship, the enraged rioters vented their fury by cutting away the masts and rigging, tearing to pieces the woodwork of the cabin, and finally putting the torch to the battered bulk, and sending her drifting helplessly down the river. this summary vengeance did not satisfy their anger. they looked about them for the other vessel, "la vengeance," and discovered that she had been towed away from the shore, and was being warped up stream to a place of safety. boats were secured, and the irresistible mob set out in mad pursuit. a militia company, hastily sent to the scene of action by the authorities of the town, failed to check the riot; and, after a futile struggle on the part of her crew, "la vengeance" shared the fate of her consort. sympathy for france was well rooted out of savannah then, and the cry of the city was for war. before the news of the uprising at savannah was known in new england, the navy had struck the first blow against french oppression, and the victory had rested with the sailors of the united states. congress had at last been aroused to a sense of the situation, and had issued orders to captains of american war-vessels, directing them to capture french cruisers wherever found. a number of large merchant-vessels and indiamen had been armed hastily, and sent out; and at last the country had a navy on the seas. one of the first vessels to get away was the "delaware," a twenty-gun ship, commanded by stephen decatur the elder. decatur had been out but a few days when a merchantman, the "alexander hamilton," was sighted, from the halliards of which a flag of distress was flying. the "delaware" ran toward the vessel, and sent a boat aboard, which returned, bringing the captain of the distressed craft. to decatur the captain related the old story of french aggression, which had become so hateful. only the day before, he said, his ship had been boarded by boats'-crews from a french privateer of twenty guns. the assailants, once on board, had eaten his provisions, and plundered his cargo without scruple. he gave careful directions as to the course of the privateer after leaving the "alexander hamilton," and returned to his ship happy in the thought, that, though he could not regain his plundered property, the thieves at least would be punished. decatur crowded on all sail, and set off in pursuit of the oppressor. four hours later, the lookout forward reported four schooners in sight off the bow. for a moment the captain was puzzled, as he had no means of knowing which was the guilty privateer; but, after brief deliberation, he determined to adopt strategy. the rigging of his vessel was slackened, the yards slewed round, and every attempt made to transform the trim man-o'-war into a shiftless merchantman. then the helmsman was instructed to carefully avoid running near the suspected schooners. the ruse succeeded admirably. the lookouts in the tops of the schooners reported an american merchantman in sight, but making attempts to escape. the cupidity of the frenchmen was aroused. in the "delaware" they saw only a defenceless ship, from which, by virtue of their strength, they could take whatever plunder they desired. from the decks of the "delaware," the sailors could see the frenchmen shaking out sail after sail; and soon one schooner, a perfect cloud of canvas, took the lead, and left her consorts far in the rear. it was the privateer they were after. the jackies of the "delaware" clambered into the rigging, and set all sail, with the clumsiness of merchant-sailors; but, though the ship spread a large expanse of canvas, she was making but little progress, for two long cables dragged in the water astern, holding her back. the frenchman came up gallantly, but suddenly discovered the ports along the side of the "delaware," and concluded he had caught a tartar. it was too late to escape then; for the "delaware," coming about, had the schooner directly under her guns, and the frenchman had no course left but to surrender. the privateer proved to be "le croyable," of fourteen guns and seventy men. her captain was vastly astounded to hear that the united states had at last sent out cruisers against the french, who had come to look upon americans as their legitimate prey. keeping "le croyable" alongside, decatur ran for philadelphia, where he was received with unbounded enthusiasm. the captured ship was taken into the united states navy, under the name of the "retaliation," and sent, under command of lieut. bainbridge, to cruise in search of other privateers. but the career of the "retaliation" under the american flag was neither long nor glorious. ill luck seemed to attend the vessel in all her cruises, and bainbridge wandered up and down the high seas without getting within range of a french cruiser or privateer. in november, , the "retaliation" was cruising, with two other men-of-war, in the west indies, not far from guadaloupe. one day three sails were made out to the eastward, and two more to the westward. bainbridge thought that at last his opportunity had arrived; and the "retaliation" set off to reconnoitre the strangers on the eastward, while the two other american ships made after the three sails in the opposite direction. as bainbridge gained upon his chase, he concluded from their appearance that they were two english ships, and accordingly threw aside all caution, and sailed boldly alongside. unluckily, they proved to be hostile french cruisers; and, when the discovery was made, the "retaliation" was well within range. every sail was set, and the ship put before the wind, to escape from the enemy, but too late. the leading ship of the enemy was a fine frigate; and she rushed through the water after the fugitive, like a dolphin after a flying-fish. soon a heavy shot from one of the frigate's bow-chasers came whizzing by the "retaliation," unpleasantly reminding the americans that they were still within range, and their adversaries carried heavy metal. the second frigate soon opened fire, and the position of the "retaliation" became hopeless. her flag was unwillingly hauled down, and the vessel became again the property of its original owners. it is a strange coincidence, that this ship should have thus been the first prize of both americans and french in the war. the frenchmen were not content with their success in capturing the "retaliation:" so, while one frigate stopped to secure the prize, the other passed on in hot chase after "the retaliation's" two former consorts, the "montezuma" and "norfolk." bainbridge was taken aboard the french frigate "volontaire," which then continued her course in the wake of her consort, the "insurgente." for the captured american captain on the deck of the "volontaire," the chase was one of great excitement. he well knew that the two stately french frigates were much more than a match for the flying americans; and, should they overhaul the chase, the "montezuma" and the "norfolk" would join the "retaliation" in french captivity. racked with anxiety he paced the deck, trying in vain not to perceive that the pursuers were steadily gaining, and chafing under the position of helplessness in which he found himself. but an opportunity to help did unexpectedly present itself. the french captain, after a long look through his marine-glasses at the flying craft, turned to bainbridge, and inquired,-- "what may be the force of your consorts, captain?" without a moment's hesitation, bainbridge responded,-- "the ship carries twenty-eight twelve-pounders, and the brig twenty nines." the frenchman was astounded, as well he might be; for bainbridge's answer was a most preposterous falsehood, nearly doubling the actual armament of the two vessels. an eager consultation was immediately held by the officers on the quarter-deck. bainbridge looked on anxiously, and was delighted with the success of his ruse, when he heard orders for the hoisting of a signal which should call back the frigate leading in the chase. the signal was hoisted; and the "insurgente," obeying, abandoned the chase, and returned. her captain was indignant at his recall, and curious to know the cause of it. when told of bainbridge's statement, he was furious; for his ship had been close enough to the chase to see that the americans were small craft, utterly unable to cope with the two pursuing frigates. for his falsehood, bainbridge was roundly abused, and many a french oath was hurled at his head. his action was indeed inexcusable by the rules of honor; and the utmost that can be said of it by the most patriotic american is, that by his falsehood he saved two good ships for the infant navy of the united states. from a military point of view, however, his conduct was commendable; and in recognition thereof, on his release from captivity, he was made commander of the "norfolk," one of the vessels he had saved. france and the united states were now actually at war, although no definite declaration of war had been made by either party. this fact made many french privateers assume an injured air, on being captured by united states ships, and complain that they had never heard of any declaration of war. with a frenchman of this sort, stephen decatur the younger had an experience early in his naval career. this occurred in february, . the frigate "united states" was cruising near martinique in that year, and to her young decatur was attached as a sub-lieutenant. one morning a french privateer was sighted, and the frigate set out in hot pursuit. the privateer took the alarm quickly, and crowded on all sail, until her long, narrow hull slipped through the waves like a fish. the breeze was fresh, and the chase an exciting one; but gradually the immense spread of the frigate's canvas began to tell, and she rapidly overhauled the fugitive. the french captain was plucky, and even desperate, in his attempt to escape; for, seeing that he was about to be overhauled, he resorted to the expedient of a fox chased by hounds, and doubled, turning short to windward, and running right under the guns of the frigate. the move was a bold one, and might well have succeeded, had it not been for the good marksmanship of a gunner on the frigate, who promptly sent a twenty-four-pound shot (the only one fired in the affair) straight through the hull of the privateer, between wind and water. in an instant all was confusion on the french vessel. the water poured into her hold through the hole cut by the shot; and the hasty lowering of her sails, and the frantic howls for succor from the crew, told the people of the "united states" that their chase was at an end. the boats of the frigate were quickly lowered, and decatur went in one as officer in command. when he reached the sinking ship, he found a scene too ludicrous to be pathetic. along the rail of the vessel, from bow to stern, the frenchmen were perched like birds. many had stripped off all their clothes, in order to be prepared to swim; and from all arose a medley of plaintive cries for help, and curses on that unlucky shot. by skilful management of the boats, all were saved; and it happened that decatur pulled into his own boat the captain of the sinking vessel. brushing the salt water out of his eyes, this worthy expressed great surprise that he had been fired upon by a vessel bearing the united states flag. "ees eet that that ees a sheep of les Ã�tats-unis?" he inquired, in the broken english that four years of cruising against americans had enabled him to pick up. "it is," responded decatur. "i am indeed sairprised. i had not thought that les Ã�tats-unis had the war with la république française." "no, sir," responded decatur, thoroughly provoked; "but you knew that the french republic was at war with the united states, that you were taking our merchant-vessels every day, and crowding our countrymen into prison at basseterre to die like sheep." this was more than the frenchman could deny, and he was constrained to accept his capture with the best grace possible. an audacious, but clearly illegal, exploit of the blue-jackets in this war, was the cutting out and capture of the french letter-of-marque vessel "sandwich," as she lay in port platte, a small harbor on the spanish side of st. domingo. commodore talbot, who won a reputation for daring and recklessness in the revolution, was cruising about on the san domingo station, and had spent some weeks in monotonous voyaging, without an opportunity to capture a single prize. word was brought to the squadron, that in the little harbor of port platte a vessel was taking in a cargo of coffee. from the description of the vessel, commodore talbot recognized her as a former british packet, the "sandwich," now sailing under french letters of marque. her known speed and seaworthy qualities made her too valuable a prize to be left in the hands of the enemy; and talbot, without more ado, determined to capture her. the first difficulty that lay in the way was the fact that the vessel was under the protection of spain, a neutral power. talbot was no man to notice so purely formal an obstacle. he growled out a decided negative to all hints about respecting a neutral flag. spain neutral, indeed! she might claim to be neutral, but her picaroons were too often to be found among the french pirates to leave any respect for spain's neutrality in the mind of a man of sense; and the "sandwich" he was going to take, and on his own responsibility. this silenced all opposition. having arrived at the determination to take the "sandwich," the next problem to be solved was, how shall she be taken? obviously the first step was to make a careful reconnoissance of the ship and her defences. to lieut. hull of the "constitution," this duty was assigned. one dark and stormy night mr. hull took one of the frigate's cutters, and, pulling into the harbor, carefully examined the situation. on his return, he reported that the "sandwich" was stripped of her rigging, and lay directly under the guns of a small battery, built on shore for her protection. to sail in with the frigate, and capture the enemy by mere force of arms, would have been simple enough; but the object of the americans was to take the ship without injuring her, in order that she might at once join the united states squadron. strategy was therefore necessary. it was accordingly determined to secure an american merchant-vessel, that could enter the port, and run alongside the "sandwich," without arousing suspicion. luckily at that very moment a craft turned up that filled the need precisely. this was the american sloop "sally," a battered, weather-beaten little craft, that had for some time been trading in the west indies, and by her very insignificance had escaped capture by the french. she had often entered and cleared from port platte, and therefore her appearance there would create no suspicion. [illustration: hull makes a reconnoissance.] the "sally" was accordingly chosen to bear the sailors on their audacious expedition. a rendezvous having been appointed, the sloop met the "constitution" far out at sea; and a large body of blue-jackets and marines left the frigate, and took quarters on the clumsy little merchantman, which then laid her course for port platte. about midnight the lookouts on the "sally" saw a vessel's lights near at hand; but, beyond reporting to the officer of the deck, they paid no heed to their neighbor. suddenly, however, out of the darkness came a bright flash; and the hum of a heavy shot in the air above the "sally" was followed by the dull report of a cannon. at the same time a blue light burned on the deck of the vessel from which the shot proceeded, showed her to be a powerful frigate. then ensued a few moments of intense suspense for the little band on the "sally." should the stranger prove to be a french frigate, all was lost; but in that latitude english vessels were common, and possibly this might be one. soon the regular thumping of oars in the tholepins, and the splashing of the waves against an approaching boat, could be heard; and in a few minutes a hail came from the black water alongside, and the dark figure of a man standing in the stern-sheets of a boat was seen. a rope was thrown him, by the aid of which he nimbly clambered aboard. an involuntary murmur of relief arose from the party on the "sally," as by the dim light of the lanterns they saw that the officer wore a british uniform. the officer himself could not repress a start and exclamation of surprise as he saw a band of officers in naval uniform, and a large body of blue-jackets and marines, on the vessel which he expected to find manned by a half-dozen lanky yankees, commanded by a down-east "skipper." "why, what ship's this?" he exclaimed in surprise, as he looked upon the armed men about him. lieut. hull, who was in command, explained to him the situation, and told him of the adventure that was being attempted. the officer seemed much disappointed, and told mr. hull that the british frigate was standing about outside the harbor, to capture the "sandwich" as she came out; but the idea of so boldly setting at naught the principles of neutrality had not occurred to them. after a few minutes' conversation, the visitor returned to his ship, and the "sally" proceeded on her errand. she reached the entrance to the harbor of port platte in the morning, and sailed boldly in. most of the crew and the marines were hidden beneath the bulwarks, or sent below; so that the people on the "sandwich" gave but a glance to the approaching vessel, until she ran so close to their vessel's bows that they feared an accident. "look out there, or you'll run foul of us!" shouted a mate from the deck of the "sandwich"; and, as if his cry was a signal, the helm of the "sally" was put down, the vessel ranged up alongside, and in an instant a torrent of armed men poured over the sides of the surprised frenchman, and drove the crew below. there was no resistance. the ship was captured in five minutes. the marines of the expedition had been sent ashore to spike the guns of the battery, and their work was performed with equal promptitude. then all hands set to work rigging the captured vessel, and getting her ready for sea. on the shore the people were in the greatest excitement, beating drums, parading the few militia, and threatening dire revenge in the name of outraged spain. but the captors of the vessel paid but little attention to their enemies; and by sunset the "sandwich," with all sails set, left the harbor, and joined the united states squadron. the news of this achievement, lawless as it was, evoked great enthusiasm in the united states. a nation's conscience is elastic; and the people praised the heroes of the "sandwich" episode, much as sixty-five years later they commended the commander of the "wachuset" for running down and capturing the confederate ship "florida," which was relying upon the protection of a neutral port in brazil. yet in , when two british frigates attacked and captured the "essex" in the harbor of rio janeiro, the good people of the united states were loud in their denunciations of the treachery of a commander who would so abuse the protection of a neutral nation. such inconsistencies are only too common in the history of nations. in the end, however, the affair of the "sandwich" terminated disastrously for the bold adventurers; for the protests of spain were too forcible to be disregarded, and the prize-money of all concerned in the exploit was confiscated to pay the damages awarded the injured party. not all the successes of the united states navy in the war with france were, like those we have related, dependent upon the speed rather than the fighting qualities of our ships. not many months had passed, when two representative ships of the warring nations met, and tried conclusions at the mouths of their cannon. it was on the th of february that the "constellation," one of the new american frigates, was cruising on her station in the west indies, when her lookout reported a large ship some miles to leeward. the frigate at once ran down the stranger, which hoisted american colors. among ships of the same navy it is customary to have private signals of recognition; and commodore truxton, who commanded the "constellation," set his signal, and awaited the answer. but no answer came; and the stranger, evidently considering further disguise impossible, boldly set french colors, and fired a gun to windward by way of a challenge. on the "constellation" the challenge aroused universal enthusiasm. for the first time since the revolution, the gallant defenders of the stars and stripes were to have an opportunity to try their strength with a hostile man-of-war. the enemy seemed no less ready for the conflict, and waited gallantly for the "constellation" to come down to closer quarters. from both ships came the roll of the drums and the shrill pipings of the bo's'n's whistle, as the men were called to quarters. then all became still, and the two frigates bore down upon each other. neither antagonist was hasty about opening fire, and the report of the first gun came from the yankee when she had come into point-blank range. then began the thunderous broadsides, that soon enveloped the hulls of the two ships in dense gray smoke; so that, to an observer at a little distance, all that could be seen of the fight was the tapering masts and yard-arms, above the smoke, crowded with sailors repairing damages, and nimble young midshipmen shrilly ordering about the grizzled seamen, and now and again taking a crack at the enemy with pistol or musket, by way of recreation. in the foretop of the "constellation" was stationed young david porter, who in that trying moment showed the result of his hard schooling in the merchant-service, of which we have spoken. by the rapid fire of the enemy, the fore-topmast was badly cut, and there was great danger that it might go by the board. porter hailed the deck several times for instructions, but, finding that his voice could not be heard above the roar of battle, determined to act upon his own responsibility, and accordingly cut away the sails, lowered the yards, and, by relieving the injured spar of all strain, prevented its falling. in the mean time the battle raged fiercely below. the american frigate was more powerful in her armament, and better handled, than the frenchman. her guns were handled with deliberation, and the aim of the gunners was sure and deadly; while the shot from the enemy went hurtling through the rigging of the "constellation," doing but little damage. the decks of the frenchman were covered with dead and wounded, and at last two raking broadsides from the american frigate ended the conflict. when the vanquished ship was boarded, she proved to be the "insurgente," the same frigate that had captured the "retaliation" some months before. her loss in this engagement amounted to twenty-nine killed and forty-one wounded, while the cock-pit of the "constellation" was tenanted by but three wounded men; and but one american had lost his life, he having been killed by an officer, for cowardice. both ships were badly cut up in the engagement. the news of this victory was received with great rejoicing in the united states, and was celebrated with cannon-firing and the ringing of bells. at boston, the fourth sunday in march was set for a day of general rejoicing; and on that day huge crowds gathered in state street, and after salutes had been fired, and the city's bells pealed, the people, at a given signal, joined in three mighty cheers, that fairly shook the surrounding houses, for truxton, the "constellation," the blue-jackets, and the success of the wooden walls of america. even after the "insurgente" had struck her flag, the tars of the "constellation" found they had an elephant on their hands. the work of transferring the prisoners was begun, and actively prosecuted; but, when night fell, there were still nearly two hundred frenchmen on the prize. the wind was rising fast, and the long rollers of the atlantic were being lashed into foaming breakers by the rising gale. it was hazardous for the two vessels to continue near each other; and lieutenant rodgers, with midshipman porter and eleven men, was detailed to take charge of the prize, and bring her into port. when the officers boarded the prize, they found that they had indeed a desperate undertaking before them. it was difficult enough for thirteen men to handle the great ship, without having to keep in subjection one hundred and seventy-three captives. to add to the clanger, the gratings had been thrown overboard, and there was no way of confining the captives in the hold. a careful search for handcuffs resulted only in failure. but rodgers was a man of decision, and porter, though but a boy, was bold and determined; and between them they solved the problem. the prisoners were ordered below; and a sentinel was placed at each hatchway, with orders to shoot the first man who should attempt to come on deck. howitzers loaded with grape were trained upon the hatchway, for use in case of an organized movement of the prisoners. for three days the officers sustained this fearful strain, without a moment's sleep; but their labors were finally crowned by successfully bringing the ship and prisoners into st. kitts. in the second pitched battle of the war, the "constellation" was again the american combatant; but this time, though the fight was a glorious one, it did not terminate so fortunately for the american ship. it was on the st of february, , that the gallant frigate, under the same commander, was cruising about her old hunting-grounds, near guadaloupe. a sail was sighted, which, after a careful examination through his marine-glass, commodore truxton pronounced to be an english merchantman. as an invitation to the stranger to approach, english colors were hoisted on the "constellation," but had only the effect of causing the stranger to sheer off; for she was, indeed, a french war-vessel. perplexed by the actions of the mysterious ship, the "constellation" gave chase, and soon came near enough to see that she had caught a tartar; for the vessel was the french frigate "la vengeance," mounting fifty-two guns. although a more powerful vessel than the american, she continued her flight; while the gallant truxton, caring nothing for the odds against him, kept on in hot pursuit. all the remainder of that day, and until noon of the next, the chase continued, with but little change in the position of the ships. "a stern chase is a long chase," thought the jackies on the "constellation;" but they were not discouraged, and only crowded on the more sail. on the afternoon of the second day, the american began to gain rapidly; and by eight at night the two ships were within speaking distance of each other. truxton mounted the rail, and shouted through a speaking-trumpet, "what ship is that?" the only answer was a shot from the stern-port of the frenchman, and the fight was opened. it was then growing dark, though the faint glow of the long tropic twilight still lingered on the western horizon. above the towering masts of the two great frigates, the stars gleamed with a brilliancy seldom seen in more northern latitudes. as the ships rushed through the water, the waves broke against the bows, and fell back in masses of phosphorescent light; while the wakes of the vessels could be traced far back into the darkness,--two parallel paths of light, that glowed and sparkled like the milky way that spanned the starry sky above. side by side the two frigates ploughed through the water. the creaking of their cordage, and the rushing of the wind through the rigging, mingled with the thunder of the cannonade, which, though slow, and made up of single reports, when the "constellation" was confined to the use of her bow-chasers, soon rose to thunderous broadsides as the two ships came side to side. as the twilight died away, the two contestants were enveloped in almost total darkness, save for the fitful flashes of the cannon, and the red glare of the battle-lanterns that hung from the shrouds. the gunners had for a target nothing but a black, shapeless mass, that could be seen rushing through the waves some hundreds of yards away. but this did not prevent fearful execution being done on both sides. for five hours the two ships kept up the running fight. the ponderous eighteen and forty-two pound shot of the enemy crashed into the "constellation," or swept her decks, doing dreadful damage. the deck was strewn with dead and dying men, and the surgeons down in the cock-pit soon had their tables full of moaning sufferers. no one could tell what might be the condition of "la vengeance;" but her regular fire told that she was in no wise disabled. at one o'clock in the morning, the sound of her guns seemed to be more distant; and by the flash of the cannon it was seen that she was drawing out of the fight. the americans cheered lustily, and truxton ordered that his ship be braced up in chase. but the fire of the enemy had been rapid and well directed; and now, at this critical moment, its results were to rob the "constellation" of her victory. as the ships were brought about, to follow in the track of the flying "vengeance," an officer came rushing to the quarter-deck, and reported that all the shrouds and braces of the foremast had been shot away, and the mast was in momentary danger of falling. the rigging had been so literally cut in pieces by the fire of the enemy, that splicing was out of the question; but truxton, in the hope of saving his mast, called all hands from the guns, and the fire of the "constellation" stopped. up in the foretop was stationed midshipman jarvis, with a dozen or more of jackies, whose duty it was to mend the cordage of the topmast, and to keep up a musketry fire upon the enemy. long before the officer of the deck had reported the danger of the foremast, one of the topmen had told jarvis, who was but a lad, that the mast was likely to fall. "ay, ay, my lad," responded the plucky young officer; "but our place is here, and we must go with it." the sailors on the deck below worked manfully: but, notwithstanding all their efforts, the mast soon went by the board; and jarvis and his brave comrades were thrown far out into the black water, never to be seen again. the fall of the foremast ended the battle for the "constellation." helpless, and cumbered by the wreck, she tossed about on the water while her foe made good her escape. what might have been the outcome of the conflict, had it continued, it is impossible to tell. "la vengeance" carried heavier metal and a larger crew than the american frigate; and truxton, with all his dash, found no mean adversary in capt. pitot. yet the condition of the french ship when she came into port at curaçoa showed that the fire of the yankee gunners had been rapid and accurate. fifty of the enemy were killed, and one hundred and ten wounded; while, of the americans, only thirty-nine appeared on the lists of killed and wounded. it was said at the time, that capt. pitot reported having struck his flag three times; hoisting it again, on finding that in the darkness the "constellation" took no notice of the surrender. but this seems, on the face of it, improbable; and the action can hardly be awarded to either ship, although the gallantry shown on either side was enough to win a victory. it may well be imagined that this brilliant action, together with the capture of "l'insurgente," made the "constellation" the most popular ship of the navy; a place which she held until the stirring events of the war with england pushed the "constitution" so far to the front, that even now, when she lies dismantled and rotting at the brooklyn navy-yard, americans still think of "old ironsides" as the typical ship of our once glorious navy. the actions between the "constellation" and the "vengeance" and "insurgente" were the chief contests between regularly commissioned ships of the two nations in the war with france. but the west indies were filled with privateers and semi-piratical craft, with which the navy waged a ceaseless warfare, which well prepared the blue-jackets for the graver struggle which was yet to come with great britain. the half-savage population of the french islands was a fruitful source of trouble to the american seaman. these gentry, known as picaroons, seemed to have a natural inclination for piracy; and the unlucky merchant-captain who should come to anchor, or be becalmed, near one of the islands, was sure to see his vessel boarded, and his cargo plundered, by a lawless horde of frenchmen and mulattoes, whose dialect was an unmusical combination of french and african tongues. the custom of the picaroons was to do their cruising in huge barges propelled by sweeps. with these they would often cut out a merchant-vessel from beneath the guns of a protecting man-of-war, and tow her off to be plundered at leisure. occasionally, however, their well-laid plans failed in the execution. one of the most noted of these occasions was the repulse of ten picaroon barges that attacked the united states topsail schooner "experiment," and a fleet of merchantmen under her charge. the "experiment," with her convoy, was lying becalmed in the bight of leogane, in the island of san domingo. not a breath of air was stirring; and the vessels, drifting about at the mercy of the currents, soon became widely separated, and were an easy prey for the hordes of picaroons that swarmed in that region. in no way could the "experiment" secure a position which would enable her to protect all the merchantmen. in this dilemma it was determined to disguise the war-vessel, in the hopes that the pirates, taking her for a merchantman, would attack her first. this was done; and, as luck would have it, the picaroons fell into the trap. although not the captain of the ship, lieut. david porter was in command on this occasion; and, on hearing that ten picaroon barges with swivels in the bows, and crews of forty men each, were approaching, he sent his crew to quarters, and prepared for a desperate resistance. onward over the smooth waters came the huge barges, each with its twenty-six oars, looking like a mighty centipede. on the ship every thing was quiet, as the jackies stood to their guns, with the prospect of a deadly struggle before them. should the barges get to close quarters, and surround the schooner, no earthly power could prevent their boarding, when their numbers would surely bring them success. but the painful pause before the battle was not long. suddenly porter, ever on the alert, cried out to fire. from every gun that could be brought to bear, a storm of grape and canister was rained upon the advancing boats; and the yells that went up from the astounded picaroons told of the deadly work done in the crowded boats. for a moment, the fleet of barges fell into confusion; some retreating, some advancing, and others drifting about helpless. although the murderous fire was kept up, the pirates formed again, and attempted to get alongside, but were repeatedly beaten back. with musketry and swivels they attempted to answer the fire of the americans; but with little effect, for the crew of the "experiment" kept close under the bulwarks. men were precious then, and porter would not let one expose himself unnecessarily; but he himself, from his prominent post of observation, was an easy mark, and a picaroon's bullet soon lodged in his shoulder. notwithstanding the painful wound he never left his post. the unexpected opposition only maddened the picaroons, and they made desperate attempts to get alongside; but to no avail. now the stern and now the bow of the "experiment" was chosen as the point of attack; but still the rapid fire of the jackies beat the pirates back. on the low-lying shores of the islands, some hundreds more of the picaroons had gathered to watch the conflict; and, as the boats became short-handed from the carnage, they put back to the shore, and returned to the fight fully re-enforced. the bodies of the dead were thrown overboard without ceremony, and soon attracted great schools of the fierce sharks that abound in the waters of the tropics. then a new horror was added to the scene. at a moment when the barges wavered and floated for a moment without motion, porter ordered his gunners to load with solid shot. two or three broadsides rang out; and, when the smoke cleared away, two barges were seen to be sinking. the affrighted crews bent to their oars, and strained every muscle to reach the shore; but, while yet in deep water, the barges sunk, and the picaroons were left floundering in the sea. all struck out manfully for the shore; but suddenly one sprung half from the water, and with a horrid yell sunk from sight. one after another disappeared in the same way; for the sharks had tasted blood, and were not to be appeased. for seven hours the conflict raged fiercely; but at last the picaroons confessed themselves beaten, and sullenly relinquished their attacks upon the "experiment." but they were not to be wholly robbed of their plunder; and two merchant-vessels fell a prey to their piratical violence, before a breeze, springing up, enabled the squadron to escape. before the year was over, the picaroons had another serious defeat to mourn over; and on this second occasion they were well punished for their many piracies. the "boston," a twenty-eight-gun ship, was convoying a merchant-brig to port au prince, when the lookout discovered nine large barges skulking along the shore, ready to pounce upon the two vessels when a favorable moment should arrive. porter was again in command. his tactics were at once determined upon; and the ports of the "boston" were closed, and the ship thoroughly disguised. the picaroons were deceived sufficiently to make a dash upon the two ships, and approach boldly within easy gunshot; then, discovering their mistake, they turned and fled in panic. this time no calm hampered the ship-of-war; and, making all sail, she dashed into their midst. for two hours she kept within easy range of the barges; and her gunners, working deliberately, did fearful execution in the ranks of the enemy, and sunk three barges before the wretched fugitives could reach the shore. after dealing out this summary justice, the "boston" continued her voyage, and, after leaving her convoy in the port of her destination, began a cruise about the islands and the spanish main. in the course of this cruise she met the french corvette "le berceau," which struck after a plucky action of two hours. the frenchman was badly cut up in hull and rigging, and shortly after the surrender her fore and main masts went by the board. the "boston" was but little injured, and took her prize safely into port. after this the fighting was chiefly confined to short, sharp affrays between the smaller united states ships and the french privateers, which were generally good sailers and well manned, although deficient in metal. the great frigates like the "constellation" found no more adversaries worthy of their fighting qualities, and only the sloops and topsail-schooners gave their crews a chance to smell gunpowder. some of these smaller actions, however, were sharp and gallant, although their details have not been preserved like those of the famous naval duels. the "experiment," after her adventure with the picaroons, fought two gallant battles, and was successful in each, although the second for a time threatened to lead to international difficulties. while cruising on her station, the vessel made two sail, which, as they came nearer, proved to be a brig of eighteen guns and a three-masted schooner of twenty guns, both flying the french tricolor, and both intent on mischief. the american fled, but laid her course in such a way as to separate the two pursuers. when night had fallen, lieut.-commander stewart, who commanded the "experiment," saw that the enemy's forces were divided by about a league of green water, and at once determined to strike a blow. doubling on his course, he ran his vessel alongside the schooner, and poured in two or three broadsides with such rapidity and haste that the frenchman struck before his consort could come to his aid. hastily throwing lieut. porter and a prize-crew aboard the prize, stewart dashed off after the brig, which fled incontinently, and proved too good a sailer to be overtaken. pure audacity had carried the day for the "experiment," for the brig was powerful enough to have blown her pursuer to bits in a short engagement. the second exploit of the "experiment" was no less gallant than this, but in the end proved far less satisfactory. late in a summer's afternoon a suspicious sail was made; and the chase, begun at once, had continued until nightfall. when darkness settled over the ocean, stewart calculated the course laid by the stranger, and ordered his helmsman to keep the ship on that course until midnight, when, if the fugitive was not overhauled, the chase would be abandoned. just before midnight a sail was seen near by and to windward. the men were sent to quarters; and with guns shotted, and battle-lanterns burning, the "experiment" ran up under the stranger's lee, and hailed. no answer was returned. perplexed and irritated, stewart ordered a shot fired into the stranger, which was no sooner done than a broadside was returned, which made the schooner reel. both vessels were then plunged into conflict, though neither knew the name or nationality of the opponent. for a time the "experiment" was handicapped by the heavy wind, which laid her over so far that her guns were elevated skyward, and her shot whistled through the enemy's tops. to obviate this, planks were thrust under the breeches of the guns, until at last the proper range was secured, when an active cannonade soon forced the stranger to strike. lieut. porter was sent to take possession of the prize; but the report he brought back put all thought of prize-money out of the minds of the victors, for the stranger was a bermudian privateer, flying the british flag, and under the protection of a nation with which the united states was at peace. the fault lay with the privateers for not responding to the hail, but the americans did all in their power to repair the damage done. all the next day they lay by their vanquished adversary, and the sailors of two ships worked side by side in patching up the injuries done by the shot. by night the privateer was able to continue her cruise, resolving, doubtless, to avoid future conflicts with the ships of the american navy. but to enter into the details of each of the naval duels of the french war of , would require a volume devoted exclusively to its consideration. although there was never a declaration of war between the two countries, yet the warfare on the ocean was earnest, and even desperate. both nations went to work with a will, and the results were of incalculable benefit to the then pygmy navy of the united states. in their newspapers the americans read with wonder and pride of the successes of their new vessels and young sailors, against the trained seamen and best frigates of france. when the war closed, the country rang with the praises of the blue-jackets. indeed, a record of sixty-four french vessels captured, besides many american vessels which were recaptured from their captors, was enough to arouse feelings of pride throughout the nation; and the celerity with which france seized upon the proposal for peace showed well the reputation which our navy had gained beyond the ocean. for months after the peace was signed, the names of bainbridge, truxton, stewart, and talbot were household words throughout the nation; and the deeds of the gallant ships along the spanish main were the favorite stories of the boys of the land. three of the oaken veterans, however, never came home; but against their names must be put the saddest of all naval records: foundered at sea. the captured "insurgente," the "saratoga," and the "pickering" simply vanished from the ocean. over fourscore years have passed; and of them, and the gallant lads that manned them, nothing has ever been known. whether they perished by the fury of the tropical typhoon, whether a midnight collision sent them suddenly to the bottom, or whether the ships were destroyed and the crews murdered by the piratical desperadoes of the west indies, can never be known. somewhere on the coral-strewn bed of the blue seas of the tropics lie the mouldering hulks of those good ships, and the bones of their gallant crews. there will they lie, unknown and unsought, until earthly warfare is over for all men, and the sea gives up its dead. chapter iii. proposed reduction of the navy. -- renewal of british outrages. -- the affair of the "baltimore." -- attack on the "leander." -- encounter between the "chesapeake" and "leopard." not many months had elapsed after the close of the war between the united states and france, when the pride of the nation in the navy that had won such laurels in that conflict began to wane. in the place of poems and editorials singing the praises and pointing out the value of the navy, the newspapers began to be filled with demands for its reduction. it was an unwarrantable expense, exclaimed the critics of the press, for a nation so young, and so far from the warring peoples of europe, to maintain a navy at all. a few gunboats to guard the coast would be enough. all the consequences of the reduction of the navy at the close of the revolution were forgotten in an instant. a penny-wise and pound-foolish spirit came over all the political leaders; and the democratic party, then newly come into power, determined to endear itself to the hearts of the people by cutting down the expenses of the government, and to this end they attacked first the appropriations for the navy. a gallant fight was made against the total abolition of the navy; and finally it was decided to retain thirteen of the ships-of-war on the list, while the others should be sold. with these thirteen vessels, of which the most noted were the "constitution," the "constellation," and the "united states," the navy was placed upon a peace footing. even this moderate squadron, however, brought out much opposition from economically minded statesmen; but the aggressions of the barbary pirates, and the war with tripoli which opened in , gave the sailor lads active employment, and for the time the outcry of the economists against the navy ceased. of the various wars with tripoli and the other states of barbary, we have already given some account. the political bearing of the tripolitan war upon the war which afterwards followed with great britain was slight; but, as discipline for the sterner reality of naval warfare with the nation long reputed to be "mistress of the seas," the experience of the yankee tars with the turbaned infidels was invaluable. let us, then, return to the shameful recountal of the injuries committed by the british upon the american flag on the high seas. even while the united states was at war with france, and thus aiding the british, the outrages never ceased. american sailors were still impressed. american vessels were boarded, and often seized, on the slightest pretexts. even the ships of the government were not exempt, for the british respected no right save that of greater power. it was in november, , that the united states sloop-of-war "baltimore," of twenty guns, and under command of capt. phillips, was in charge of a convoy of merchantmen bound to havana. on the morning of the th of that month, the sloop, with her convoy, were in sight of their destination, and could even see the solid, towering walls of the moro, rising high above the low-lying shores about havana. the breeze was fresh and fair; and all hands expected to cast anchor before night in the beautiful bay, oh the shores of which stands the chief city of the island of fruits and spices. on the "baltimore" the jackies were busily at work holystoning the decks, until they glistened with the milky whiteness dear to the eye of the sailor of the days before the era of yellow pine or black, unsightly iron ships. the shrouds and standing rigging had been pulled taut with many a "yo, heave ho!" until the wind hummed plaintively through the taut cordage, as through the resounding strings of an Ã�olian harp. the brasswork and polished breeches of the guns were polished by the vigorous rubbing by muscular sailors, until they shone again. all told of a coming season in a friendly port. while the work of preparation for port was thus going busily on, the lookout hailed the deck, and reported a squadron in sight. a moment's glance convinced capt. phillips that the strangers were british war-vessels; and, as they were still accustomed to annoy american merchantmen, he hastily signalled his convoy to carry sail hard, and make port before the british came up, while the "baltimore" bore up to speak to the british commodore. before the merchantmen could escape, however, the british cut off three of them, under some peculiar and mistaken ideas of the law of blockades. more than this, when capt. phillips paid his visit to the english commodore in the latter's cabin, he was calmly informed that it was intended to take from the "baltimore" into the british service every sailor who had not a regular american protection; this under the new english doctrine, that every sailor was an englishman unless proved to be otherwise. the avowal by the british captain of this intention filled phillips with indignation, and he warmly protested against any such action. [illustration: the british squadron.] it would, he insisted, be an outrage on the dignity of the nation which he served; and, as the overpowering force of the british rendered resistance impossible, he should insist upon surrendering his ship should they persist in their undertaking, which was no more nor less than open warfare. with this he arose from his seat, and leaving the cabin, to which he had been invited as the guest of a friendly nation, returned to his own ship. here he found a state of affairs that still further added to his indignation. at the foot of the gangway of the "baltimore" floated a boat from one of the british ships, and on the deck of the sloop was a lieutenant in british uniform in the act of mustering the american crew. capt. phillips at once seized the muster-roll, and ordered the officious briton to walk to leeward, while the crew of the "baltimore" were sent to their quarters. but, having done this, he became doubtful as to the course for him to pursue. successful resistance was out of the question; for he was surrounded by five british vessels, one of which carried ninety-eight guns, while the smallest mounted thirty-two, or twelve more than the "baltimore." even had the odds against him been less great, capt. phillips felt grave doubts as to his authority to resist any armed vessel. he had sailed under instructions that "the vessels of every other nation (france excepted) are on no account to be molested; and i wish particularly to impress upon your mind," wrote the secretary of the navy, "that should you ever see an american vessel captured by the armed ship of any nation at war, with whom we are at peace, you cannot lawfully interfere, for it is to be taken for granted that such nation will compensate for such capture, if it should prove to have been illegally made." after some deliberation over this clause in his instructions, capt. phillips concluded that for him to make even a formal resistance would be illegal; and accordingly the flag of the "baltimore" was lowered, and the british were told that the ship was at their disposal. they immediately seized upon fifty-five men from the american crew, who were taken away to the british fleet. but in this wholesale impressment they did not persist. fifty of the men were sent back; and the squadron set sail, carrying away the five pressed men, and leaving the men of the "baltimore," from the captain down to the smallest cabin-boy, smarting under the sense of an indignity and insult offered to the flag under which they served. capt. phillips hoisted his flag again, and continued his cruise. news travelled slowly in those days; and the tidings of this latest british insult did not reach the united states until the "baltimore," returning home, brought it herself. hardly had the ship reached port, when capt. phillips hastened to philadelphia, then the national capital, and laid his report of the affair before the government. in a week's time, without even the formality of a trial, he was dismissed from the navy. after the lapse of more than eighty years it is impossible to look back upon this affair without indignation, mortification, and regret. that the naval officers of great britain should have been able, by the mere force of arms, to inflict so cruel an insult upon our flag, can but arouse indignation in the breast of every true american. and the humiliation was great enough, without having added to it the obviously hasty and unjust action of the authorities, in dismissing, without a trial, an officer who had faithfully served his country. it is indeed possible that capt. phillips erred gravely in his course; but justice alone demanded for him a fair trial, and the nature of his instructions certainly afforded him some justification for his action. the years that opened the nineteenth century were full of events that exerted the greatest influence over the growth of the united states. the continuance of the napoleonic wars in europe, our own war with the barbary powers, the acquisition of louisiana,--all these had their effect on the growth of the young republic of the west. but, at the same time, england was continuing her policy of oppression. her cruisers and privateers swarmed upon the ocean; and impressment of seamen and seizure of vessels became so common, that in memorials and petitions from seamen and merchants of the seaport towns poured in upon congress, begging that body to take some action to save american commerce from total destruction. congress directed the american minister in london to protest; but to no avail. even while the correspondence on the subject was being carried on, the british gave renewed evidence of their hostility to their former colonies, and their scorn for the military or naval power of the united states. from the far-off shores of the mediterranean came the news that boats from the fleet of the british admiral collingwood had boarded the united states gunboat no. , and taken from her three sailors, under the pretence that they were englishmen. but an occurrence that shortly followed, nearer home, threw this affair into oblivion, and still further inflamed the national hatred of the english. a small coasting sloop, one of hundreds that made voyages along the american coast from portland to savannah, was running past sandy hook into new york bay, when she was hailed by the british ship "leander," and ordered to heave to. the captain of the coaster paid no attention to the order, and continued on his way, until a shot from the cruiser crashed into the sloop, and took off the head of the captain, john pearce of new york. this was murder, and the action of the british in firing upon the sloop was gross piracy. such an outrage, occurring so near the chief city of the united states, aroused a storm of indignation. the merchants of new york held meetings at the old tontine coffee-house, and denounced not only the action of the british cruiser, but even impeached the government of the united states; declaring that an administration which suffered foreign armed ships to "impress, wound, and murder citizens was not entitled to the confidence of a brave and free people." the fact that the captain of the offending cruiser, on being brought to trial in england, was honorably acquitted, did not tend to soothe the irritation of the americans. occurrences such as this kept alive the american dislike for the english, and a year later an event happened which even the most ardent peace-lover could not but condemn and resent with spirit. in the united states frigate "chesapeake," then lying at the navy-yard at washington, was put in commission, and ordered to the mediterranean, to relieve the "constitution." nearly a month was consumed in making necessary repairs to hull and cordage, taking in stores, shipping a crew, and attending to the thousand and one details of preparation for sea that a long time out of commission makes necessary to a man-of-war. while the preparations for service were actively proceeding, the british minister informed the naval authorities that three deserters from his british majesty's ship "melampus" had joined the crew of the "chesapeake;" and it was requested that they should be given up. the request was made with due courtesy; and, although there is no principle of international law which directs the surrender of deserters, yet the united states, as a friendly nation, was inclined to grant the request, and an inquiry was made into the case. the facts elicited put the surrender of the men out of the question; for though they frankly confessed to have deserted from the "melampus," yet they claimed to have been impressed into the british service, and proved conclusively that they were free americans. this was reported to the british minister; and, as he made no further protests, it was assumed that he was satisfied. some weeks later the vessel left the navy-yard, and dropped down the river to hampton roads. even with the long period occupied in preparation for sea, the armament of the ship was far from being in order; a fact first discovered as she passed mount vernon, as she was unable to fire the salute with which at that time all passing war-vessels did honor to the tomb of washington. after some days stay at hampton roads, during which time additional guns and stores were taken on, and the crew increased to three hundred and seventy-five men, the ship got under way, and started on her voyage. it was on a breezy morning of june that the "chesapeake" left the broad harbor of hampton roads, the scene of so many of our naval glories. from the masthead of the frigate floated the broad pennant of commodore barron, who went out in command of the ship. the decks were littered with ropes, lumber, and stores, which had arrived too late to be properly stowed away. some confusion is but natural on a ship starting on a cruise which may continue for years, but the condition of the "chesapeake" was beyond all excuse; a fact for which the fitting-out officers, not her commander, were responsible. as the american ship passed out into the open ocean, there was a great stir on the decks of four english cruisers that lay quietly at anchor in lynn haven bay; and almost immediately one of these vessels hoisted her anchor, set her sails, and started out in the track of the frigate. a stiff head-wind blowing, the american was forced to tack frequently, in order to get ahead; and her officers noticed that the british ship (the "leopard," of fifty guns) tacked at the same time, and was evidently following doggedly in the wake of the "chesapeake." no suspicion that the pursuer had other than peaceful motives in view entered the minds of the american officers; and the ship kept on her course, while the sailors set about putting the decks in order, and getting the vessel in trim for her long voyage. while all hands were thus busily engaged, the "leopard" bore down rapidly, and soon hailed, saying that she had a despatch for commodore barron. the "chesapeake" accordingly hove to, and waited for a boat to be sent aboard. the two ships now lay broadside to broadside, and only about a half pistol-shot apart. no idea that the englishman had any hostile designs seems to have occurred to commodore barren; but some of the younger officers noticed that the ports of the "leopard" were triced up, and the tompions taken out of the muzzles of the cannon. the latter fact was of the gravest import, and should have been reported at once to the commander; but it appears that this was not done. in a few moments a boat put off from the "leopard," and pulled to the american ship, where an officer stood waiting at the gangway, and conducted the visitor to barron's cabin. here the english lieutenant produced an order, signed by the british admiral berkeley, commanding all british ships to watch for the "chesapeake," and search her for deserters. commodore barron immediately responded, that the "chesapeake" harbored no deserters, and he could not permit his crew to be mustered by the officer of any foreign power. hardly had this response been made, when a signal from the "leopard" recalled the boarding officer to his ship. the officers of the "chesapeake" were now fully aroused to the dangers of the situation, and began the attempt to get the ship in readiness for action. commodore barron, coming out of his cabin for the first time, was forcibly struck by the air of preparation for action presented by the "leopard." capt. gordon, the second in command, was ordered to hasten the work on the gun-deck, and call the crew to quarters. the drummers began to beat the call to quarters, but hasty orders soon stopped them; and the men went to their places quietly, hoping that the threatening attitude of the "leopard" was mere bravado. the most painful suspense was felt by all on board the american ship. the attitude of the "leopard" left little doubt of her hostile intentions, while a glance about the decks of the "chesapeake" told how little fitted she was to enter into action. her crew was a new one, never exercised at the guns, and had been mustered to quarters only three times. on the gun-deck lay great piles of cumbrous cables, from the coiling of which the men had been summoned by the call to quarters. on the after-deck were piles of furniture, trunks, and some temporary pantries. what little semblance of order there was, was due to the efforts of one of the lieutenants, who, suspecting trouble when the "leopard" first came up, had made great exertions toward getting the ship clear. while the captain stood looking ruefully at the confusion, still more serious troubles were reported. the guns were loaded; but no rammers, powder-flasks, matches, wads, or gun-locks could be found. while search was being made for these necessary articles, a hail came from the "leopard." commodore barron shouted back that he did not understand. "commodore barron must be aware that the orders of the vice-admiral must be obeyed," came the hail again. barron again responded that he did not understand. after one or two repetitions, the british determined to waste no more time in talking; and a single shot fired from the bow of the "leopard" was quickly followed by a full broadside. the heavy shot crashed into the sides of the "chesapeake," wounding many of the men, and adding to the confusion on the gun-deck. no answer came from the american frigate; for, though the guns were loaded, there was no way of firing them. matches, locks, or loggerheads were nowhere to be found. mad with rage at the helpless condition in which they found themselves, the officers made every effort to fire at least one volley. pokers were heated red-hot in the galley-fire, and carried hastily to the guns, but cooled too rapidly in the rush across the deck. in the mean time, the "leopard," none too chivalric to take advantage of an unresisting foe, had chosen her position, and was pouring in a deliberate fire. for nearly eighteen minutes the fire was continued, when the flag of the "chesapeake" was hauled down. just as it came fluttering from the masthead, lieut. allen, crying, "i'll have one shot at those rascals, anyhow," ran to the galley, picked up a live coal in his fingers, and carried it, regardless of the pain, to the nearest gun, which was successfully discharged. this was the only shot that the "chesapeake" fired during the affair,--battle it cannot be called. a boat with two british lieutenants and several midshipmen on board speedily boarded the "chesapeake," and the demand for the deserters was renewed. four seamen were seized, and borne away in triumph; but the british commander refused to receive the ship as a prize, and even went so far as to express his regret at the loss of life, and proffer his aid in repairing the damages. both sympathy and assistance were indignantly rejected; and the disgraced ship went sullenly back to norfolk, bearing a sorely mortified body of officers and seamen. of the four kidnapped sailors, it may be stated here, that one was hanged, and the other three forced to enter the british service, in which one died. his comrades, five years later, were restored to the deck of the ship from which they had been taken. [illustration: lieut. allen fires a shot.] the news of this event spread like wildfire over the country, and caused rage and resentment wherever it was known. cities, towns, and villages called for revenge. the president issued a proclamation, complaining of the habitual insolence of british cruisers, and ordering all such vessels to leave american waters forthwith. as in the reduced state of the navy it was impossible to enforce this order, he forbade all citizens of the united states to give aid to, or have any intercourse with, any such vessels or their crews. war measures were taken both by the federal and state governments. as usual, the popular wrath was vented upon the least culpable of the people responsible for the condition of the "chesapeake." commodore barren was tried by court-martial, and sentenced to five years' suspension from the service, without pay. the cool judgment of later years perceives the unjustness of this sentence, but its execution cast a deep shadow over the remainder of the unhappy officer's life. for some years after this episode, little occurred to change the relations of the two nations. the war spirit grew slowly, and was kept alive by the occasional reports of impressments, or the seizure of american ships by british privateers. the navy held its place amid the national defences, although a plan devised by president jefferson came near putting an end to the old organization. this plan provided for the construction of great numbers of small gunboats, which should be stationed along the coast, to be called out only in case of attack by an armed enemy. a contemporary writer, describing the beauties of this system, wrote, "whenever danger shall menace any harbor, or any foreign ship shall insult us, somebody is to inform the governor, and the governor is to desire the marshal to call upon the captains of militia to call upon the drummers to beat to arms, and call the militia men together, from whom are to be _drafted_ (not impressed) a sufficient number to go on board the gunboats, and drive the hostile stranger away, unless during this long ceremonial he should have taken himself off." fortunately the gunboat system did not work the total extinction of the old navy. in the british aggressions began again, and the situation became more and more warlike. so bold had the privateers become, that they captured a richly laden vessel within thirty miles of new york. shortly after, the british frigate "guerriere" stopped an american brig eighteen miles from new york, and took from her a young sailor. the sea was running very rough, and a stiff breeze blowing, when the "spitfire" was halted by the frigate; but the american captain went with the captured lad to the war-vessel, and assured the commander that he had known the young man as a native of maine from his boyhood. the reply was, "all that may be so; but he has no protection, and that is enough for me." with these memories fresh, it is not surprising that americans rejoiced when the news of an encounter terminating in favor of the united states ship was received. on may , , the united states frigate "president" was lying quietly at anchor off fort severn, annapolis. every thing betokened a state of perfect peace. the muzzles of the great guns were stopped by tompions. the ports were down. in the rigging of the vessel hung garments drying in the sun. at the side floated half a dozen boats. many of the crew were ashore on leave. the sailing-master was at baltimore, and the chaplain and purser were at washington. from the masthead floated the broad pennant of commodore rodgers, but he was with his family at havre de grace; and the executive officer, capt. ludlow, was dining on the sloop-of-war "argus," lying near at hand. but the captain's dinner was destined to be interrupted that bright may afternoon; for in the midst of the repast a midshipman entered, and reported that the commodore's gig was coming up rapidly, with rodgers himself on board. the dinner party was hastily broken up, and the captain returned to his ship to receive his superior officer. on his arrival, commodore rodgers said that he had received orders to chase the frigate that had impressed the sailor from the "spitfire," and insist upon the man's being liberated, if he could prove his citizenship. this was good news for every man on the frigate. at last, then, the united states was going to protect its sailors. three days were spent in getting the crew together and preparing for sea; then the stately frigate, with all sails set and colors flying, weighed anchor, and stood down the chesapeake with the intention of cruising near new york. she had been out on the open ocean only a day, when the lookout, from his perch in the cross-trees, reported a strange sail on the horizon. the two vessels approached each other rapidly; and, as the stranger drew near, rodgers saw, by the squareness of her yards and the general trim, symmetrical cut of her sails, that she was a war-vessel. perhaps she may be the offender, thought he, and watched eagerly her approach. as the stranger came up, the "president" set her broad pennant and ensign; on seeing which the stranger hoisted several signal flags, the significance of which was not understood by the americans. finding her signals unanswered, the stranger wore ship, and bore away to the southward, hotly followed by the "president." during all these manoeuvres, rodgers's suspicion of the strange vessel had increased; and her apparent flight only convinced him the more of the hostile character of the stranger. it was a stern chase and a long one, for at the outset the stranger was hull down on the horizon. after an hour it became evident that the "president" was gaining, for the hull of the fugitive was plainly seen. the breeze then died away, so that night had fallen over the waters before the ships were within hailing distance. a little after eight in the evening the "president" was within a hundred yards of the chase, which could be seen, a dark mass with bright lights shining through the rows of open ports, rushing through the water directly ahead. rodgers sprang upon the taffrail, and putting a speaking-trumpet to his lips, shouted, "what ship is that?" a dead silence followed. those on the "president" listened intently for the answer; but no sound was heard save the sigh of the wind through the cordage, the creaking of the spars, and the rush of the water alongside. rodgers hailed again; and, before the sound of his words had died away, a quick flash of fire leaped from the stern-ports of the chase, and a shot whizzed through the rigging of the "president," doing some slight damage. rodgers sprang to the deck to order a shot in return; but, before he could do so, a too eager gunner pulled the lanyard of his piece in the second division of the "president's" battery. the enemy promptly answered with three guns, and then let fly a whole broadside, with discharges of musketry from the deck and the tops. this exhausted rodgers's patience. "equally determined," said he afterwards, "not to be the aggressor, or to suffer the flag of my country to be insulted with impunity, i gave a general order to fire." this time there was no defect in the ordnance or the gunnery of the american ship. the thunderous broadsides rang out at regular intervals, and the aim of the gunners was deliberate and deadly. it was too dark to see what effect the fire was having on the enemy, but in five minutes her responses began to come slowly and feebly. unwilling to continue his attack on a ship evidently much his inferior in size and armament, rodgers ordered the gunners to cease firing; but this had hardly been done when the stranger opened again. a second time the guns of the "president" were run out, and again they began their cannonade. the stranger was soon silenced again; and commodore rodgers hailed, that he might learn the name of his adversary. in answer came a voice from the other vessel,-- "we are his majesty's ship ----." a gust of wind carried away the name, and rodgers was still in doubt as to whom he had been fighting. hoisting a number of bright lights in her rigging, that the stranger might know her whereabouts, the "president" stood off and on during the night, ready to give aid to the disabled ship in case of need. [illustration: commodore rodgers hails.] at early dawn every officer was on deck, anxious to learn the fate of their foe of the night before. far in the distance they could see a ship, whose broken cordage and evident disorder showed her to have been the other party to the fight. a boat from the "president" visited the stranger, to learn her name and to proffer aid in repairing the damages received in the action. the ship proved to be the british sloop-of-war "little belt;" and her captain stated that she was much damaged in her masts, sails, rigging, and hull, and had been cut several times between wind and water. he declined the proffered aid, however, and sailed away to halifax, the nearest british naval station. commodore rodgers took the "president" to the nearest american port. when the "president" reached home, and the news of her exploit became known, the exultation of the people was great, and their commendations of rodgers loud. "at last," they cried, "we have taught england a lesson. the insult to the 'chesapeake' is now avenged." rodgers protested that he had been forced unwillingly into the combat, but his admirers insisted that he had left port with the intention of humbling the pride of some british ship. indeed, the letter of an officer on the "president," printed in "the new york herald" at the time, rather supported this theory. "by the officers who came from washington," wrote this gentleman, "we learn that we are sent in pursuit of a british frigate, who had impressed a passenger from a coaster. yesterday, while beating down the bay, we spoke a brig coming up, who informed us that she saw the british frigate the day before off the very place where we now are; but she is not now in sight. we have made the most complete preparations for battle. every one wishes it. she is exactly our force; but we have the "argus" with us, which none of us are pleased with, as we wish a fair trial of courage and skill. should we see her, i have not the least doubt of an engagement. the commodore will demand the person impressed; the demand will doubtless be refused, and the battle will instantly commence.... the commodore has called in the boatswain, gunner, and carpenter, informed them of all circumstances, and asked if they were ready for action. ready, was the reply of each." no consequences beyond an intensifying of the war spirit in america followed this rencounter. before dismissing the subject, however, it is but fair to state that the account as given here is in substance commodore rodgers's version of the matter. the british captain's report was quite different. he insisted that the "president" fired the first shot, that the action continued nearly an hour, that it was his hail to which no attention was paid, and finally he intimated that the "president" had rather the worse of the encounter. the last statement is easily disproved, for the "president" was almost unscathed, and the only injury to her people was the slight wounding of a boy, in the hand. on the "little belt," thirty-one were killed or wounded. the other points led to a simple question of veracity between the two officers. each government naturally accepted the report of its officer; and, so far as the governments were concerned, the matter soon passed into oblivion. not long after this episode, a somewhat similar occurrence took place, but was happily attended with no such serious consequences. the frigate "united states," cruising under the broad pennant of commodore decatur, fell in with two british ships near new york. while the commanders of the vessels were amicably hailing, a gun was suddenly fired from the battery of the "united states," owing to the carelessness of a gunner in handling the lanyard. it was a critical moment, for the british would have been justified in responding to the fire with broadsides. happily, they were cool and discreet, and decatur made such explanations as showed that no attack or insult was intended. this little incident is interesting, as showing the distrust of the british which led an american captain to keep his guns primed and cocked, while conversing with english men-of-war. another incident showed that the hatred of the british service that prevailed among seamen was a matter of deep-seated conviction. while the united states ship "essex" was lying in an english port, it became known that one of her crew was a deserter from the british navy, and his surrender was immediately demanded. although the man stoutly protested that he was an american, yet no proof could be shown; and, as the ship was in british waters, it was determined to surrender him. a british officer and squad of marines boarded the "essex" and waited on the deck while the sailor went below to get his kit. bitterly complaining of the hardness of his fate, the poor fellow went along the gun-decks until he passed the carpenter's bench. his eye fell upon an axe; and after a minute's hesitation he stepped to the bench, seized the axe in his right hand, and with one blow cut off the left. carrying the severed member in his hand, he again sought the deck and presented himself, maimed, bleeding, and forever useless as a sailor, to the british officer. astonished and horrified, that worthy left the ship, and the wounded man was sent to the sick-bay. the incident was a forcible commentary on the state of the british service at that time, and left a deep impression on the minds of all beholders. in the next contest over deserters, however, the americans rather secured the best of the argument. the "constitution" was lying at anchor in portsmouth roads, when one of the crew slily slipped overboard and swam down with the tide to the british ship "madagascar" that lay at anchor near by. when he had reached the englishman, he was too exhausted to speak; and the officers, supposing that he had fallen overboard accidentally, sent word to the "constitution" that her man had been saved, and awaited the orders of his commander. the next morning a boat was sent down to the "madagascar" to fetch the man back; but, to the astonishment of the visiting officer, he was told that the sailor claimed to be a british subject and wished to escape from the american service. "have you any evidence," asked the american officer of the british admiral, "beyond the man's own word, that he is an englishman?" "none whatever, sir," was the response, "but we are obliged to take his declaration to that effect." the american officer returned to his ship, vowing vengeance on the harborers of the deserter. his opportunity came that very night. in the dead watches of the night, when all was still on deck save the monotonous tramp of the sentries, there suddenly rang out on the still air the sharp crack of a musket. the officer of the deck rushed to see what was the matter, and was shown a dark object floating near the ship, at which a sentry had fired. a boat was lowered and soon came back, bringing in it a sailor who had deserted from the "madagascar," and reached the "constitution" by swimming. capt. hull asked the fellow his nationality. "sure, o'im a 'merricun, your honor," he answered in a rich brogue that would have branded him as a paddy in any part of the world. with a twinkle in his eye, hull sent the irishman below, and told the sailors to take good care of him. early in the morning, a boat came from the "madagascar;" and a trim young lieutenant, clambering aboard the american frigate, politely requested that the deserter be given up. with great dignity, capt. hull responded that the man was a citizen of the united states, and should have protection. the visiting officer fairly gasped for breath. "an american!" he exclaimed. "why, the man has never been out of ireland except on a british man-of-war." "indeed!" responded hull blandly. "but we have his statement that he is an american, and we are obliged to take his declaration to that effect." and the man was never given up. during the day, two british frigates cast anchor so near the "constitution" that capt. hull suspected them of hostile intentions, and moved his ship to a new anchorage. a frigate followed closely in her wake. at eight in the evening, capt. hull determined to meet the show of force with force. the drums beat, and the men were called to quarters. the battle-lanterns were lighted fore and aft. the tops were crowded with sailors, armed with short carbines, to pick off the men on the enemy's decks. along the gun-deck stood the men at the guns; and an officer, describing the scene, says they took hold of the ropes as if they were about to jerk the guns through the ship's sides. all were enthusiastic over the prospect of the coming action. "now, then, my lads," said an officer to a group of sailors, "if a fight comes of this, it will be in the cause of you sailors; and i expect you to fight like men." "ay, ay, sir," was the response. "let the quarter-deck look out for the colors, and we'll keep the guns going." all the preparations for battle were made openly, and the attitude taken by the "constitution" was an open challenge. no notice of it was taken by the british ship; and, after maintaining her hostile attitude for some time, the "constitution" hoisted her anchor, and left the harbor. the time of the formal declaration of war was now rapidly approaching. the long diplomatic correspondence between the two nations had failed to lead to any amicable solution of the difficulties that were fast urging them to war. great britain still adhered to her doctrine that a man once an englishman was always an english subject. no action of his own could absolve him from allegiance to the flag under which he was born. upon the trade of the united states with france, the english looked with much the sentiments with which, during our civil war, we regarded the thriving trade driven with the confederacy by the british blockade-runners. upon these two theories rested the hateful "right of search" and the custom of impressment. it is needless to say that the views of the united states on these questions were exactly contrary to those of the english. such vital differences could, then, only be settled by war; and war was accordingly declared in june, . it was a bold step for the young nation, but there was enough of plausibility in the english claims to make it evident that they could never be set aside by diplomacy; and so, with hardly a thought of the odds against her, the united states dashed in to win justice at the muzzles of her cannon. that the odds were tremendous, is not to be denied. of the military strength of the two nations, it is not the purpose of this book to treat. indeed, a recountal of the land battles of the war of would hardly be pleasant reading for americans. it was on the sea that our laurels were chiefly won. yet, at the time of the declaration of war, the navy of the united states consisted of twenty vessels, of which the largest carried forty-four guns, and the majority rated under thirty. for years this navy had been a butt of ridicule for all the european naval powers. the frigate "constitution" was scornfully termed by an english newspaper "a bunch of pine boards sailing under a bit of striped bunting." not long after the publication of this insolent jeer, the "constitution" sailed into an american port with a captured british frigate in tow. right merrily then did the americans boast of their "bunch of pine boards." this miniature navy of the united states was about to be pitted against the greatest naval power of the world. the rolls of the navy of great britain bore at this time the names of over one thousand ships. of these, no less than two hundred and fifty-four were ships-of-the-line, mounting over seventy-four guns each. behind this great navy were the memories of long years of conquests, of an almost undisputed supremacy upon the ocean. small wonder was it, then, that the british laughed at the idea of the americans giving battle to their hitherto unconquered ships. what, then, was the secret of the success which, as we shall see, attended the american arms on the sea? the answer is, that men, not ships, carried the day. yet great britain had the more sailors on her muster-rolls. true, but they were only too often unwilling slaves. instead of enlisting, like free men, they were hunted down like brutes and forced to enter the service. no sailor was safe from the press-gang, and even sober citizens were often kidnapped to serve the 'king' on the ocean. from the ships of other nations, from their homes and from taverns, the unlucky sailors were dragged away. even in the streets of populous cities, they were not safe; and it was no uncommon sight to see pitched battles being fought between the press-gangs and sailors whom they were trying to capture. generally, the inhabitants and landsmen sided with the victims; and a sailor running through the streets of the town would be given every assistance by people, who filled with obstacles the path of his pursuers. could he reach the water-side, the fugitive would find every boat at his service; while his pursuers, on coming up, found every water-man very busy and very gruff. but the wonder is, that, with this unjust and repulsive system of impressments, the british sailors were so loyal, and fought with the dogged courage that they invariably showed. in the american navy, on the contrary, the enlistments were voluntary. the service was popular, and the seamen entered it without the feeling of outraged liberty inspired by the british system. officers were readily obtained from the ranks of the adventurous american navigators. officers and men alike often brought into the service personal memories of british oppression; and this, with their free and independent spirit, enabled them to wage an unequal war with glorious results for the supporters of the stars and stripes. chapter iv. the war on the ocean. -- commodore rodgers's cruise. -- the loss of the "nautilus." -- first success for the british. -- the escape of the "constitution." -- the "essex" takes the "alert." -- the "constitution and the "guerriere." at the time when the declaration of war was made public, a small squadron of united states vessels was lying in the port of new york, under the command of commodore rodgers. the warlike tendency of the popular mind had long been evident, and the captain of every war-vessel had been for some time making active preparations for service. some apprehension was felt in naval circles, lest the small size of the navy should lead the authorities to lay up the vessels in port during the continuance of the war. this apprehension was well founded; for not only had such a course been debated in the cabinet, but orders had been prepared, directing commodore rodgers to hold his vessels in port. this decision was actively opposed by the officers of the navy, who felt that, though inconsiderable in numbers, the united states navy could make a brave fight for the honor of the nation; and with one accord all protested against the action contemplated. two officers, capt. bainbridge and capt. stewart, went to washington and sought an interview with the secretary of the navy, paul hamilton, who assured them that the plans of the government were well matured and would not be changed. the united states could not afford, said the secretary, that its few frigates and men-of-war should be snapped up by the enormous fleets of the british, as would surely be the case, if they ventured upon the ocean. but it was not intended to materially reduce the lists of naval officers. the frigates, with all their loose spars and top-hamper taken down, were to be anchored at the entrances of the principal harbors of the country, and operated as stationary batteries. this prospect was far from agreeable to the two officers. it was intolerable for them to imagine the graceful frigates, with towering masts and snowy canvas, reduced to mere shapeless hulks, and left to guard the entrance of a placid harbor. finding the secretary inexorable, they went to the president and put the case before him. they assured him, that, small though the list of american ships was, it bore the names of vessels able to cope with any thing of their class in the british navy. both officers and seamen were proud of the service, and burned to strike a blow for its honor. president madison seemed much impressed by their representations, and agreed to take the matter into consideration; and, if it seemed wise, to change the plan. but, before any definite action was taken by him, war was declared. within an hour after he had received news of the declaration of war, commodore rodgers had his squadron under way, and dropped down new york bay to the ocean. under his command were the flag-ship "president" of forty-four guns, the "essex" thirty-two, and the "hornet" eighteen. in the lower bay these vessels were joined by the "united states" forty-four, the "congress" thirty-eight, and the "argus" sixteen. on june , , three days after the declaration of war, the whole squadron passed sandy hook, and stood out into the ocean. it is probable that the remarkable celerity of commodore rodgers's departure was due, in part, to the fear that the authorities would revive the obnoxious order laying up the ships in port. his chief object, however, was to overhaul a large fleet of british merchantmen that had recently left the west indies, and, according to all calculations, should have been in the vicinity of new york at that time. all sail was accordingly crowded upon the ships, and the squadron set out in hot pursuit. for two days the monotony of the horizon was broken by no sail; but on the third a ship was espied in the distance, which was made out to be an enemy's frigate, after which chase was made by the whole squadron. a fresh breeze was blowing, and both chase and pursuers were running free before the wind. as sail after sail was crowded upon the ships, the smaller vessels, with their lesser expanse of canvas, began to fall behind; and in a few hours the frigate "president" had gradually drawn away from the fleet, and was rapidly gaining on the enemy. the sail had been spied at six o'clock in the morning, and at four p.m. the flag-ship had come within gunshot of the chase. the wind then fell; and the chase, being long out of port and light, began to gain on her heavier adversary. both vessels now began to prepare for a little gunnery. on the english vessel, which proved to be the "belvidera," thirty-six, the sailors were busily engaged in shifting long eighteens and carronades to the stern, making a battery of stern-chasers mounting four guns. the action was opened by a gun from the bow of the "president," sighted and fired by commodore rodgers himself; so that this officer may be said to have fired the first gun of the war. his shot was a good one, hulling the enemy. a second shot from one of the guns of the first division broke off the muzzle of one of the "belvidera's" stern-chasers; and a third shot, fired by commodore rodgers, crashed into the stern of the chase, killing two men, and wounding several others. certainly in their first action the yankees showed no lack of skill in gunnery. the chase was slow in responding to the fire; and although her commander, capt. byron, sighted the guns for the first few discharges himself, his aim was by no means so good as that of the americans. the british showed great energy, however, in defending their ship. not content with the stern guns already mounted, they shifted to the stern ports two long eighteen-pounders on the main deck, and two thirty-two-pound carronades on the quarter-deck. with these they kept up a brisk fire, which soon became effective, many shots cutting the rigging of the "president," while one plunged down upon the deck, killing a midshipman and two or three men. but the superiority of the american gunnery was beginning to tell, when, at a critical moment, a main-deck gun, on the "president," burst with a stunning report; and the flying fragments killed or wounded sixteen men. the force of the explosion shattered the forecastle deck. commodore rodgers was thrown high into the air, and, falling heavily on the deck, suffered a painful fracture of the leg. the crew was at once thrown into confusion and almost panic. every gun was looked upon with suspicion. encouraged by this confusion, the enemy worked his stern guns with renewed vigor, and at the same time lightened his ship by cutting away boats and anchors, and starting fourteen tons of water. thus lightened, she began to draw away from the "president;" perceiving which, the latter ship yawed several times, and let fly full broadsides at the escaping chase. the shot rattled among the spars of the "belvidera," but the nimble topmen quickly repaired all damages; and the british ship slowly but steadily forged ahead. seeing no hope of overtaking her, rodgers ordered the chase abandoned; and the american squadron again took up its search for the fleet of british merchantmen. but this, the first cruise of the united states navy in the war was destined to be a disappointment to all concerned. the key-note set by the affair just related--in which the "president" lost twenty-two men, and permitted her adversary to escape--was continued throughout the voyage. always finding traces of the enemy they were seeking, the americans never succeeded in overhauling him. one day great quantities of orange-peel, cocoanut-shells, and similar fragments of tropical fruits gave the jackies assurance of the proximity of the long-sought enemy, and urged them on to renewed energy and watchfulness. then the master of an english letter-of-marque, captured by the "hornet," reported that the day before he had passed a fleet of eighty-five sail, of which four were men-of-war. that night there was no room in the minds of the sailors for any thoughts other than those of big prize-money. but their golden dreams were never to be fulfilled; for, although the chase was continued until within a day's run of the english channel, no sight of the jamaica fleet was ever gained. abandoning this chase, the squadron returned to boston by a southern route; and, although constantly in the very highway of commerce, few sails were sighted. when port was reached, the results of a cruise that had occupied seventy days amounted only to the capture of one letter-of-marque, seven merchantmen, and the recapture of one american ship. but rodgers heard, that, while he had been scouring the ocean with such meagre results, events of more importance had occurred nearer home. [illustration: explosion on the "president."] the british ship "belvidera," after her lucky escape from the "president," had made her way to halifax, the chief naval station of great britain on the american coast. her report was the first news of the declaration of war, for at that day news travelled slowly. once alarmed, the british were prompt to act; and in a few days a squadron left halifax in search of commodore rodgers. the force thus hurriedly gathered was quite formidable. the "africa" of sixty-four guns, the "shannon," thirty-eight, the "guerriere," thirty-eight, the "belvidera," thirty-six, and the "Ã�olus," thirty-two, made up the fleet despatched to chastise the headstrong americans for their attempt to dispute with great britain the mastery of the ocean. early in july, this force made its appearance off new york, and quickly made captures enough to convince the american merchantmen that a season in port was preferable to the dangers of the high seas in war-times. to this same fleet belongs the honor of the first capture of a war-vessel during the war; for the american brig "nautilus," fourteen guns, was suddenly overhauled by the entire fleet, and captured after a plucky but unavailing attempt at flight. fourteen-gun brigs, however, were rather small game for a squadron like that of the british; and it is probable that his britannic majesty's officers were heartily glad, when, some days, later the united states frigate "constitution" hove in sight, under circumstances which seemed certain to make her an easy prey to the five british ships. it was on the th of july, , that the "constitution," after receiving a new crew at annapolis, was standing northward under easy sail on her way to new york. about noon four sails were sighted on the horizon, and an hour later the appearance of a fifth sail was duly reported. a careful scrutiny of the strangers convinced capt. hull that they were men-of-war, although their nationality could not be determined. night fell before the ships could come within hailing distance; and, though hull set private signals, no answer was returned. when day broke, hull found himself fairly surrounded by british frigates. in addition to the squadron which has been described as leaving halifax, there was the captured "nautilus" with her guns turned against her own nation, and a captured american schooner which had been likewise pressed into the service. clearly the "constitution" was outnumbered, and nothing was left for her but flight. the events of that three days' chase are told with great minuteness in the log-book of the "constitution" to which many of those on board have, in later publications, added more interesting personal reminiscences. when the rising mists showed how completely the american frigate was hemmed in, hardly a breath of air was stirring. although every sail was set on the ship, yet she had not steerage way; and hull ordered out the boats, to pull the ship's head around and tow her out of range of her enemies. at the same time, gangs of sailors with axes cut away the woodwork about the cabin windows, and mounted two stern guns in the cabin and one on the upper deck. the enemy, in the mean time, were keeping up a vigorous fire, but without effect. their ships were rapidly gaining, as they were enabled to set the boats of the whole squadron to towing the two foremost vessels. hull saw that some new means of getting ahead must be devised. soundings were taken, and the ship found to be in twenty-six fathoms of water. all the available rope in the ship was then bent on to a kedge and carried far ahead, when the kedge was lowered to the bottom. the sailors then shipped their capstan-bars, and tramped about the capstan, until the ship was dragged up to the kedge, which was then hoisted and again carried ahead and let fall. this manoeuvre was repeated several times with marked success; for the "constitution" was rapidly drawing away from her pursuers, who could not discover her means of propulsion. out of sight of land as they were, the british did not for some time suspect the true cause of the sudden speed of the fugitive. when, after long scrutiny through their marine-glasses, they finally did discover the stratagem, the "constitution" was far ahead; and though the pursuers adopted the same device, yet their awkwardness was so great, that even the superior force they were enabled to employ did not bring them up to their chase. while the ships were thus being urged on by towing, kedging, and occasionally by sweeps, an intermittent fire was kept up by the british, and responded to by the "constitution" from her stern ports. the guns which had been mounted by the americans in the cabin, they were soon forced to abandon, as the explosions threatened to blow out the whole stern frame. with the stern-chasers on the gun-deck, however, a constant fire was maintained, in the hopes of crippling the enemy by a lucky shot. for more than forty-eight hours the chase maintained this aspect of monotony. a dead calm prevailed the greater part of the time. occasionally, light breezes filled the sails, and wafted the ships ahead for a few minutes; then, dying away, left the sea unruffled, and the sails flapping idly against the masts. british historians concur with those of our own country, in saying that the "constitution," in seizing the advantages of the breeze, showed far better seamanship than did her enemies. while the british vessels lay to, to pick up their boats, the "constitution" forged ahead, picking up her boats while under way. later in the chase, the british totally abandoned their boats, and, when the american frigate had fairly escaped them, went about for some days picking up such boats as were found drifting on the broad ocean. the morning of the second day of the chase dawned with a light breeze ruffling the water, and filling out the sails of the ships. before the breeze died away, which it did in a few hours, the "constitution" had gained on her pursuers so that she led them by more than four miles. then the calm again held the ships quiet; and again the americans saw their enemies closing in upon them by the aid of sweeps, and towing with their boats. there was little rest for the crew of the american frigate. on the gun-deck, about the carriages of the great cannon, lay such of the men as were not assigned to duty in the boats or at the capstan. wearied with the constant strain, they fell asleep as soon as relieved from active duty; though they knew that from that sleep they might be awakened to plunge into the fierce excitement of desperate battle. exhausted as the men were, their officers were forced to endure a still more fearful strain. no sleep came to the eyelids of capt. hull, throughout the chase. now encouraging the men, now planning a new ruse to deceive the enemy, ever watchful of the pursuing ships, and ready to take advantage of the slightest breath of air, capt. hull and his able first lieutenant morris showed such seamanship as extorted admiration even from the british, who were being baffled by their nautical skill. by skilful manoeuvring, the americans managed to keep to the windward of their enemies throughout the chase; and to this fact the success of capt. hull's most astute stratagem was due. ever alert for any sign of a coming breeze, he saw on the water far to windward that rippling appearance that betokens the coming of a puff. hull determined to utilize it for himself, and, if possible, trick the british so that they would lose all benefit of the breeze. the clouds that were coming up to windward seemed to threaten a squall, and driving sheets of rain were rapidly advancing toward the ship. with great ostentation, the "constitution" was made ready for a severe gale. the enemy could see the nimble sailors taking in sail, and furling all the lighter canvas. then the driving rain swept over the ship, and she was shut out of sight. immediately all was activity in the tops of the british frigates. reefs were rapidly taken in the larger sails, while many were closely furled. all forsook their course, and steered in different directions in preparation for the coming squall, which, indeed, was far less violent than the action of the "constitution" seemed to indicate. but the shrewd yankees on that craft, protected from spying british eyes by the heavy rain, were now shaking out the reefs they had just set; and under full sail the ship was soon flying away towards home. after an hour of driving thunder-shower, the clouds passed by; and the wall-like edge of the shower could be seen moving rapidly away before the wind. the tars on the "constitution" watched eagerly to see the british fleet appear. farther and farther receded the gray curtain, and yet no ships could be seen. "where are they?" was the thought of every eager watcher on the deck of the "constitution." at last they appeared, so far in the distance as to be practically out of the chase. two were even hull down; while one was barely visible, a mere speck on the horizon. though now hopelessly distanced, the british did not give up the pursuit, but held valiantly on after the american frigate. she had so long been within their very grasp that it was a bitter disappointment for them to be balked of their prey. but, as the wind now held, the american gained on them so rapidly that at last they unwillingly abandoned the chase; and, disbanding the fleet, each ship set off on an individual cruise, in the hopes that the enemy which had shown such ability in flight when overpowered would not deign to fly if encountered by a single hostile ship. this expectation was fully realized some weeks later, when the "constitution" fell in with the british frigate "guerriere." thus, after a chase of more than sixty-four hours, the "constitution" evaded her pursuers, and made her way to boston. although they reaped no glory by their labors, the british did not come out of the chase altogether empty-handed. as the course of the vessels was along the new england coast, they were in the direct path of american commerce; and more than one wretched coaster fell into their clutches. at one time, a fine, full-rigged ship, flying the stars and stripes, came within sight; and the british, to lure her to her destruction, hoisted the american flag over all their vessels. but hull was a match for them at strategy; and he promptly set the british colors at his masthead, and began so vigorous a cannonade that the stranger concluded that a merchantman had no business in that quarter, even though the americans did appear to be rather in the majority. by his able seamanship in this chase capt. hull gained for himself a national reputation. the newspapers of the day vied with each other in pointing out the manoeuvres in which he had excelled his enemies,--how he had picked up his boats while under way, though the enemy were forced to cut theirs adrift; how he had come out of the chase without injury, and after parting with only a few gallons of water, though a less cool-headed commander would have thrown overboard guns, ammunition, and every thing movable, in the face of so great a danger. a modest sailor, as well as a skilful one, capt. hull showed himself to be; for, while the popular adulation was at its height, he inserted a card in the books of the exchange coffee-house at boston, begging his friends to "make a transfer of a great part of their good wishes to lieut. morris and the other brave officers and crew under his command, for their very great exertions and prompt attention to orders while the enemy were in chase." leaving the "constitution" thus snugly in port at boston, we will turn aside to follow the fortunes of a ship, which, though belated in getting out to sea, yet won the honor of capturing the first british war-vessel taken during the war. when commodore rodgers set sail from new york with his squadron, in the fruitless pursuit of the fleet of jamaica men, he left in the harbor the small frigate "essex," under the command of capt. david porter. the ship was thoroughly dismantled,--stripped of her rigging, her hold broken out, and provided neither with armament, ammunition, nor crew. her captain, however, was a man of indomitable energy; and by dint of much hard work, and constant appeals to the authorities at washington, he managed to get his ship in order, and leave the harbor within a fortnight after the departure of the squadron under rodgers's command. the "essex" was a small frigate, lightly sparred, rating as a thirty-two-gun ship, but mounting twenty-six guns only, of which six were twelve-pounders, and the remainder carronades of thirty-two pounds. a carronade is a short cannon of large calibre, but of very short range. capt. porter protested vigorously against being furnished with a battery so useless except at close quarters: but his protests were unheeded; and the "essex" put to sea, trusting to her ability to get alongside the enemy, where her carronades would be of some use. among the midshipmen who bunked, messed, and skylarked together in the steerage of the "essex," was one lad whose name in later days was to be inscribed on the roll of the greatest naval heroes of history. david glasgow farragut was a child of seven years of age when he was adopted by capt. porter, and began his training for a naval career. in the boy secured his appointment of midshipman; and now, in , we find him enrolled among the "young gentlemen" who followed the fortunes of the "essex." in those days the midshipmen were often mere boys. farragut himself was then but eleven years old. but, boys as they were, they ordered the hardy old tars about, and strutted the streets when on shore-leave with all the dignity of veterans. that the discipline of the "essex" was of the strictest, and that the efficiency of her crew was above criticism, we have the testimony of farragut himself to prove. "every day," he writes, "the crew were exercised at the great guns, small arms, and single stick; and i may here mention the fact, that i have never been on a ship where the crew of the old "essex" was represented, but that i found them to be the best swordsmen on board. they had been so thoroughly trained as boarders, that every man was prepared for such an emergency, with his cutlass as sharp as a razor, a dirk made by the ship's armorer out of a file, and a pistol." hardly were the highlands of navesink lost to sight below the horizon, when porter began to receive evidences that his cruise was to be a lucky one. several brigs were captured, and sent into new york; but the tars of the "essex" were beginning to grow weary of small game, and hoped, each time a sail was sighted, that it might be a british man-of-war. at last a small squadron hove into sight, the appearance of which seemed to indicate that the jackies might smell gunpowder to their hearts content before the next day. it was late at night when the strange fleet was sighted; and the "essex" was soon running down upon them, before a fresh breeze. although the moon was out, its light was obscured by dense masses of cloud, that were driven rapidly across the sky; while over the water hung a light haze, that made difficult the discovery of objects at any distance. the "essex" soon came near enough to the squadron to ascertain that it was a fleet of british merchantmen and transports convoyed by a frigate and bomb-vessel. the frigate was at the head of the line; and the "essex," carefully concealing her hostile character, clapped on all sail and pressed forward, in the hopes of bringing on an action. after passing the hindermost transport, however, the american ship was hailed by a second transport, which soon suspected her hostile character and threatened to give the alarm. instantly the ports of the "essex" were knocked out, the guns trained on the enemy, and the transport was ordered to haul out of the line at once, and silently, under penalty of being fired into. the defenceless ship complied, and was at once taken possession of, and the soldiers on board were transferred to the "essex." this operation took so much time, that, by the time it was concluded, day dawned over the ocean; and the attack upon the british frigate was abandoned. again the "essex" continued her cruise in search of an enemy worthy of her metal. for two or three days she beat about the ocean in the usual track of ships, without sighting a single sail. the ship had been so disguised, that the keenest-eyed lookout would never have taken her for a ship-of-war. the top-gallant masts were housed, the ports of the gun-deck closed in, and her usually trim cordage and nicely squared yards were now set in a way that only the most shiftless of merchant skippers would tolerate. not many days passed before the enemy fell into the trap thus set for him. when on the th of august capt. porter learned that a sail to windward, apparently a british man-of-war, was bearing down upon the "essex," he carried his little bit of acting still further. instead of the great crowd of agile sailors that spring into the rigging of a man-of-war, at the order to make sail, only a handful, in obedience to porter's orders, awkwardly set on the "essex" all the sail she would carry. two long, heavy cables dragging in the water astern so retarded the ship, that the stranger, coming down gallantly, thought he had fallen in with a lumbering old american merchantman, which was making frantic, but futile, efforts to escape. had the british captain been able to look behind the closed ports of the "essex," he would have formed a very different idea of the character of his chase. he would have seen a roomy gun-deck, glistening with that whiteness seen only on the decks of well-kept men-of-war. down either side of the deck stretched a row of heavy carronades, each with its crew of gunners grouped about the breech, and each shotted and primed ready for the opening volley. from the magazine amidships, to the gun-deck, reached a line of stewards, waiters, and cooks, ready to pass up cartridges; for on a man-of-war, in action, no one is an idler. active boys were skurrying about the deck, barefooted, and stripped to the waist. these were the "powder monkeys," whose duty it would be, when the action opened, to take the cartridges from the line of powder-passers and carry it to the guns. on the spar-deck, only a few sailors and officers were visible to the enemy; but under the taffrail lay crouched scores of blue-uniformed jackies, with smooth-faced middies and veteran lieutenants, ready to spring into the rigging at the word of command, or to swarm over the side and board the enemy, should the gunwales of the vessels touch. all this preparation, however, was unknown to the "englishman," who came boldly on, doubting nothing that the "essex" would that day be added to his list of prizes. as he drew nearer, the american sailors could see that their foe was much their inferior in size and armament; and the old tars who had seen service before growled out their dissatisfaction, that the action should be nothing but a scrimmage after all. in a few minutes, the bold britons gave three ringing cheers, and let fly a broadside at the "essex." in an instant the ports of the sham merchantman were knocked out; and, with a warlike thunder, the heavy carronades hurled their ponderous missiles against the side of the assailant. the astonished englishmen replied feebly, but were quickly driven from their posts by the rapidity of the american fire; and, in eight minutes after the action was opened, the british hauled down their flag. the captured ship proved to be the sloop-of-war "alert," mounting twenty eighteen-pounder carronades. the boarding officer found her badly cut up, and seven feet of water in the hold. the officers were transferred to the "essex," and the "alert" taken in tow. circumstances, however, forced the americans to part in a very few days. the chief cause which led to the separation of the two vessels was an incipient mutiny, which was discovered by midshipman farragut, and was only averted by the perfect discipline of the american crew. an exercise to which the greatest attention was given was the "fire-drill." when the cry of fire was raised on the ship, every man seized his cutlass and blanket, and went to quarters as though the ship were about to go into action. capt. porter was accustomed, that his men might be well prepared for any emergency, to raise this cry of fire at all hours of the night; and often he caused a slight smoke to be created in the hold, further to try the nerves of his men. shortly after the "alert" was captured, and while the "essex" was crowded with prisoners, some of the captives conspired to seize the ship, and carry her to england. one night, as farragut was sleeping in his hammock, a strange feeling of fear came over him; and he opened his eyes to find the coxswain of the captain's gig of the "alert" standing over him with a pistol in his hand. the boy knew him to be a prisoner, and, seeing him armed, was convinced that something was wrong. expecting every moment to be killed, he lay still in his hammock, until the man turned on his heel and walked away. then farragut slipped out, and ran to the captain's cabin to report the incident. porter rushed upon the berth-deck in an instant. "fire! fire!" shouted he at the top of his voice; and in an instant the crew were at their quarters, in perfect order. the mutineers thought that a bad time for their project, and it was abandoned. the next day the prisoners were sent on board the "alert," and that vessel sent into st. johns as a cartel. the capture of the "alert" reflected no great glory upon the americans, for the immense superiority of the "essex" rendered her success certain. it is, however, of interest as being the first capture of a british war-vessel. the action made the honors easy between the two nations; for while the americans had the "alert," the british were captors of the brig "nautilus." this equality was not of long duration, however; for an action soon followed which set all america wild with exultation. after her escape from the british fleet, the "constitution" remained at boston only a few days, and then set out on a cruise to the eastward along the new england coast. bad luck seemed to follow her, and she had reached a point off cape sable before she made a prize. here two or three prizes of little value were taken; and an english sloop-of-war was forced to relinquish an american brig, which had been recently captured. shortly afterwards, a salem privateer was overhauled, the captain of which reported an english frigate cruising in the neighborhood; and capt. hull straightway set out to discover the enemy. the frigate which had been sighted by the salem privateer, and for which hull was so eagerly seeking, was the "guerriere," a thirty-eight-gun ship commanded by capt. dacres. with both ship and captain, capt. hull had previously had some little experience. the "guerriere" was one of the ships in the squadron from which the "constitution" had so narrowly escaped a few weeks before, while capt. dacres was an old acquaintance. a story current at the time relates, that, before the war, the "guerriere" and the "constitution" were lying in the delaware; and the two captains, happening to meet at some entertainment on shore, fell into a discussion over the merits of their respective navies. although even then the cloud of war was rising on the horizon, each was pleasant and good-natured; and the discussion assumed no more serious form than lively banter. "well," said hull at last, "you may just take good care of that ship of yours, if ever i catch her in the 'constitution.'" capt. dacres laughed good-humoredly, and offered to bet a sum of money, that in the event of a conflict his confident friend would find himself the loser. "no," said hull, "i'll bet no money on it; but i will stake you a hat, that the 'constitution' comes out victorious." "done," responded dacres; and the bet was made. war was soon declared; and, as it happened, the two friends were pitted against each other early in the hostilities. it was not long after the american frigate parted from the privateer when the long-drawn hail of "sail ho-o-o!" from the lookout aloft announced the discovery of another vessel. the course of the "constitution" was at once shaped toward the stranger. in half an hour she was made out to be a frigate, and from her actions was evidently anxious to come alongside the american ship. as more than an hour must elapse before the ships could come together, capt. hull made his preparations for action with the greatest deliberation. the top-gallant sails were furled, and the lighter spars lowered to the deck. through their glasses, the officers could see the enemy making similar preparations, and waiting deliberately for the "constitution" to come down. at five o'clock in the afternoon the two ships were rapidly nearing, and the drums on the american frigate beat to quarters. then followed the rush of barefooted men along the deck, as they ran hastily, but in perfect order, to their stations. as the roll of the drums died away, the shrill voices of the boyish midshipmen arose, calling off the quarter-bills, and answered by the gruff responses of the men at their posts. every man, from the cook to the captain, knew his place, and hurried to it. the surgeon, with his assistants, descended to the cock-pit. the carpenter and his mates made ready their felt-covered plugs, for stopping holes made by the enemy's shot. the topmen clambered to their posts in the rigging, led by the midshipmen who were to command them. the line of powder-passers was formed; and the powder-monkeys gave up skylarking, and began to look sober at the thought of the business in hand. the "guerriere" was not behindhand in her preparations for action. capt. dacres had suspected the character of the american vessel, from the first moment she had been sighted. on board the english frigate was capt. william b. orne, a marblehead sailor who had been captured by the "guerriere" some days before. "capt. dacres seemed anxious to ascertain her character," wrote capt. orne, shortly after the battle, "and after looking at her for that purpose, handed me his spy-glass, requesting me to give him my opinion of the stranger. i soon saw, from the peculiarity of her sails and her general appearance, that she was without doubt an american frigate, and communicated the same to capt. dacres. he immediately replied, that he thought she came down too boldly for an american; but soon after added, 'the better he behaves, the more credit we shall gain by taking him.' "the two ships were rapidly approaching each other, when the 'guerriere' backed her main topsail, and waited for her opponent to come down and commence the action. he then set an english flag at each masthead, beat to quarters, and made ready for the fight. "when the strange frigate came down to within two or three miles distant, he hauled upon the wind, took in all his light sails, reefed his topsails, and deliberately prepared for action. it was now about five in the afternoon, when he filled away and ran down for the 'guerriere.' at this moment capt. dacres said politely to me, 'capt. orne, as i suppose you do not wish to fight against your own countrymen, you are at liberty to retire below the water-line,' it was not long after this, before i retired from the quarter-deck to the cock-pit." it may be well here to supplement capt. orne's narrative by the statement that capt. dacres, with a chivalric sense of justice not common in the british navy of that day, allowed ten american sailors who had been impressed into his crew to leave their quarters and go below, that they might not fight against their country. though an enemy, he was both gallant and generous. the action was opened by the "guerriere" with her weather broadside; the shot of which all falling short, she wore around, and let fly her port broadside, sending most of the shot through her enemy's rigging, though two took effect in the hull. in response to this, the "constitution" yawed a little, and fired two or three of her bow-guns; after which the "guerriere" again opened with broadsides. in this way the battle continued for about an hour; the american ship saving her fire, and responding to the heavy broadsides with an occasional shot. during this ineffectual firing, the two ships were continually drawing nearer together, and the gunners on the "constitution" were becoming more and more restive under their inaction. capt. hull was pacing the quarter-deck with short, quick steps, trying to look cool, but inwardly on fire with excitement. as the shot of the enemy began to take effect, and the impatience of the gunners grew more intense, lieut. morris, the second in command, asked leave to respond with a broadside. "not yet," responded capt. hull with cool decision. some minutes later, the request was repeated, and met with the same response, while the captain never ceased his pacing of the deck. when within about half pistol-shot, another broadside came from the "guerriere." then the smothered excitement in hull's breast broke out. "now, boys, pour it into them!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, gesticulating with such violence that the tight breeches of his naval uniform split clear down the side. lieut. morris seconded the captain in cheering on the crew. "hull her, boys! hull her!" he shouted; and the crew, catching up the cry, made the decks ring with shouts of "hull her!" as they rapidly loaded and let fly again. [illustration: "hull her, boys!"] the effect of their first broadside was terrific. deep down in the cock-pit of the "guerriere," capt. orne, who had been listening to the muffled thunder of the cannonade at long range, suddenly "heard a tremendous explosion from the opposing frigate. the effect of her shot seemed to make the 'guerriere' reel and tremble, as though she had received the shock of an earthquake. immediately after this, i heard a tremendous shock on deck, and was told that the mizzen-mast was shot away. in a few moments afterward, the cock-pit was filled with wounded men." though in his retreat in the cock-pit the captive american could hear the roar of the cannon, and see the ghastly effects of the flying missiles, he could form but a small idea of the fury of the conflict which was raging over his head. stripped to the waist, and covered with the stains of powder and of blood, the gunners on the two ships pulled fiercely at the gun-tackle, and wielded the rammers with frantic energy; then let fly the death-dealing bolt into the hull of an enemy only a few yards distant. the ships were broadside to broadside, when the englishman's mizzen-mast was shot away, and fell, throwing the topmen far out into the sea. the force of the great spar falling upon the deck made a great breach in the quarter of the ship; and, while the sailors were clearing away the wreck, the "constitution" drew slowly ahead, pouring in several destructive broadsides, and then luffed slowly, until she lay right athwart the enemy's bow. while in this position, the long bowsprit of the "guerriere" stretched far across the quarter-deck of the american ship, and was soon fouled in the mizzen-rigging of the latter vessel. then the two ships swung helplessly around, so that the bow of the englishman lay snugly against the port-quarter of the yankee craft. instantly, from the deck of each ship rang out the short, sharp blare of the bugle, calling away the boarders, who sprang from their guns, seized their heavy boarding caps and cutlasses, and rushed to the side. but a heavy sea was rolling and tossing the two frigates, so that boarding seemed impossible; and, as dacres saw the crowd of men ready to receive his boarders, he called them back to the guns. although each party stuck to its own ship, the fighting was almost hand to hand. pistols were freely used; and from the tops rained down a ceaseless hail of leaden missiles, one of which wounded capt. dacres slightly. so near to each other were the combatants, that the commands and the cries of rage and pain could be heard above the deep-toned thunder of the great guns and the ceaseless rattle of the musketry. the protruding muzzles of the guns often touched the sides of the opposing ship; and when the cannon were drawn in for loading, the sailors on either side thrust muskets and pistols through the ports, and tried to pick off the enemy at his guns. while the fight was thus raging, a cry of "fire!" horrified every one on the "constitution." flames were seen coming from the windows of the cabin, which lay directly beneath the bow-guns of the "guerriere." the fire had been set by the flash from the enemy's cannon, so close were the two ships together. by the strenuous exertions of the men on duty in the cabin, the flames were extinguished, and this, the greatest of all dangers, averted. shortly after, the gun which had caused the trouble was disabled by a skilful shot from one of the yankee's guns. while the flames in the cabin were being extinguished, the americans were making a valiant attempt to board and lieut. morris with his own hands was attempting to lash the two ships together. abandoning this attempt, he leaped upon the taffrail, and called upon his men to follow him. lieut. bush of the marines, and mr. alwyn, were soon at the side of the intrepid officer, when, at a sudden volley of musketry from the british, all three fell back, poor bush dead, and the two others badly wounded. the ships then drifted asunder; and the "guerriere's" foremast was shot away, and dragged down the main-mast with it in its fall. the shattered ship now lay a shapeless hulk, tossing on the waves, but still keeping a british ensign defiantly flying from the stump of her fallen mizzen-mast. the "constitution" drew away, firing continually, and soon secured a raking position; seeing which, the british hauled down their colors. lieut. read was sent on board the prize, and, on the appearance of capt. dacres, said,-- "capt. hull presents his compliments, sir, and wishes to know if you have struck your flag." dacres looked significantly at the shattered masts of his ship, and responded dryly,-- "well, i don't know. our mizzen-mast is gone, our main-mast is gone; and i think, on the whole, you may say that we have struck our flag." after looking about the ship, the boarding officer stepped to the side, to return to his own vessel. before leaving, he said to capt. dacres,-- "would you like the assistance of a surgeon, or surgeon's mate, in caring for your wounded?" dacres looked surprised, and responded,-- "well, i should suppose you had on board your own ship business enough for all your medical officers." "oh, no!" answered read. "we have only seven wounded, and they have been dressed long ago." dacres was astounded, as well he might be; for on the decks of his ship lay twenty-three dead or mortally wounded men, while the surgeons were doing their best to alleviate the sufferings of fifty-six wounded, among whom were several officers. indeed, the ship looked like a charnel-house. when capt. orne, freed by the result of the battle, came on deck, he saw a sight that he thus describes: "at about half-past seven o'clock, i went on deck, and there beheld a scene which it would be difficult to describe. all the 'guerriere's' masts were shot away; and, as she had no sails to steady her, she was rolling like a log in the trough of the sea. many of the men were employed in throwing the dead overboard the decks were covered with blood, and had the appearance of a ship's slaughter-house. the gun-tackles were not made fast; and several of the guns got loose, and were surging from one side to the other. some of the petty officers and seamen got liquor, and were intoxicated; and what with the groans of the wounded, the noise and confusion of the enraged survivors on board of the ill-fated ship, rendered the whole scene a perfect hell." for some time after the "guerriere" had been formally taken possession of, it seemed as though the "constitution" would have to fight a second battle, to keep possession of her prize. a strange sail was seen upon the horizon, bearing down upon the "constitution" in a way that seemed to threaten hostilities. again the drums beat to quarters, and once again the tired crew went to their stations at the guns. but the strange ship sheered off, and the gallant crew were not forced to fight a second battle. all hands then set to work to remove the prisoners from the "guerriere," which was evidently in a sinking condition. in the first boat-load from the sinking ship came capt. dacres, who was politely shown into capt. hull's cabin. unclasping his sword from its place at his hip, the conquered seaman handed it silently to capt. hull. the victor put it gently back, saying,-- "no, no, captain: i'll not take a sword from one who knows so well how to use it. but i will trouble you for that hat." for a moment a shade of perplexity passed over the brow of the british captain; then he recollected the wager of a year or two before, and all was clear again. unfortunately, the veracious chronicler who has handed this anecdote down to modern times has failed to state whether the debt was duly paid. after some hours of hard work with the boats, the last of the prisoners, with their effects, were brought on board the "constitution." torches were then set to the abandoned frigate; and the sailors watched her blaze, until the fire reached her magazine, and she vanished in the midst of a tremendous explosion. then, leaving behind her the floating mass of ruin, the "constitution" headed for boston, where she arrived after a few days of sailing. great was the excitement and exultation aroused among the people by the arrival of the noble ship with her prisoners. she had, indeed, come at a time when the public mind required cheering; for from the interior came the reports of british successes by land, along the canadian frontier about detroit, and for weeks the papers had been unable to record any success for the american arms. but the report of the engagement with the "guerriere" changed wholly the tide of popular feeling. boston--the city which at the declaration of war had hung its flags at half-mast, in token of mourning and humiliation--boston welcomed the conquerors with an ovation like to a triumph in the days of imperial rome. when the ship came up the harbor, she was met and surrounded by a great flotilla of gayly decorated boats; while the flags on the surrounding vessels were dipped in salutation as the war-scarred veteran made her stately way to the wharf. here a volunteer artillery company was assembled; and, as the ship came up, they fired a national salute, which was returned from the guns so lately employed in defending the national honor. quarters had been prepared for capt. hull in the city; and, as he landed, he found the streets through which he must pass decked with bright bunting, and crowded with people. his progress was accompanied by a great wave of cheers; for, as the people saw him coming, they set up a shout, which was not ended until he had passed from sight. at night came a grand banquet to the officers of the ship, at which six hundred sat down to the feast. the freedom of the city was presented to the captain; and at a later date came the news of sword presentations from citizens of new york, plate from the people of philadelphia, and gold medals from congress. amid all the exultation, the rash arrogance of the british writers was not forgotten; and many a bumper was emptied to the success of the frigate described by british journalists as "a bunch of pine boards under a bit of striped bunting." chapter v. an international debate. -- the "wasp" and the "frolic." -- the "united states" and the "macedonian." -- ovations to the victors. the rejoicing over the success of the "constitution" had not died away in the united states when the english newspapers began to appear with elaborate articles, showing just why the battle had terminated as it did. "the 'constitution' is the crack frigate of the american navy," cried the apologists; but to this the americans retorted by quoting the british description of the ship as "a bunch of pine boards." the "guerriere" was an "old worn-out frigate," responded the english, returning to the charge. "she was on her way to halifax to refit, when attacked." again they were refuted by their own statements; for, but a month before, the "guerriere" was said to be "able to drive the insolent striped bunting from the seas." throughout the discussion, the shrewdness of the americans enabled them to meet the arguments of the british at every point; but not until the charge was made, that the "constitution" was chiefly manned by british sailors, did the people become thoroughly in earnest in the war of words. such a charge as this was adding insult to injury. was not the british navy full of americans who were forced against their will to serve against their own country, while the few englishmen on the "constitution" were enlisted with their own consent? for capt. dacres to say that his ship was weakened by allowing the ten americans to go below, and then beaten by the efforts of the englishmen on the "constitution," was merely tantamount to saying that the victory hinged on the fact that americans would not fight against their own country, while englishmen did so willingly. but for great britain to exclaim against the american navy because it harbored a few englishmen, was the rankest hypocrisy. so said the american journalists of the day; and, in support of their statement, they printed long letters from american seamen impressed into and held in the british naval service. one writes that he was impressed into his british majesty's ship "peacock," in , and after serving two years he heard of the declaration of war. after a consultation with two fellow-seamen, both americans, all decided to refuse to serve longer, claiming to be prisoners of war. but the captain under whom they were enrolled looked upon the matter in a different light. he heard their claim, pronounced it a bit of "confounded insolence," and straightway ordered that they be put in irons. after some hours for meditation in "the brig," the three sailors were taken to the gangway, stripped naked, and tied up, while a sturdy boatswain's mate laid on a dozen and a half blows of the cat. later, when the ship went into action with a united states vessel, the three sailors asked to be sent below, that they might not fight against their own countrymen; but the captain's sole response was to call up a midshipman, and order him to do his duty. this duty proved to consist in standing over the three malcontents with a loaded pistol, threatening to blow out the brains of the first who should flinch from his work. three sailors were impressed after the war had begun. learning that the ship on which they found themselves was to cruise upon the american station, they with one accord refused to serve. the response to this was "five dozen lashes well laid on." being still mutinous, they received four dozen lashes two days later, and after the lapse of two more days were flogged with two dozen more. but all the beating to which they were subjected could not compel them to serve against their country; and they were accordingly ironed and thrown into "the brig," where they lay for three months. when released from "the brig," they found the ship at london. here they heard of the glorious victory of the "constitution," and determined to celebrate it. by ripping up their clothing into strips, and sewing the strips together, a rude american flag was made; and with the most astonishing audacity the three sailors hung this emblem over a gun, and gave three cheers for the stars and stripes. this naturally brought them another flogging. flogging, however, could not always be resorted to in order to bring american sailors into subjection. it is estimated, that, when war was declared, there were five times as many american seamen in the british navy as were in the whole navy of the united states. to attempt to keep this immense body of disaffected seamen in order by the lash, would have been impracticable; and soon the custom arose of sending the more refractory tars into confinement at some english prison. dartmoor prison was for a time the principal place of detention for pressed men; but, as it soon became crowded, it was given over to prisoners of war, and the hapless seamen were sent to languish in dismantled ships, known as "hulks." these hulks were generally old naval vessels, dismasted and stripped of all their fittings. anchored midstream in tidal rivers, the rotting hulks tugged at their rusty chains, as the tide rose and fell, groaning in their bondage, and seeming as much imprisoned as the wretched sailors by whom they were tenanted. the captives lived in misery and squalor. crowded together in stifling quarters between decks, they were the prey of vermin of all kinds. their miserable diet, and lack of proper exercise, caused the scurvy in its most repulsive forms to break out among them. the only breath of fresh air they could obtain was when, in gangs, they were allowed to go on deck, and pace up and down under the watchful eyes of soldiery; then back to the crowded quarters below, to swelter in summer or freeze in winter. such was their punishment for the crime of being loyal to their country. [illustration: engagement of the frigates "united states" and "macedonian," christmas day, . copyright, , by c. klackner] careful estimates show that at this time there were at least twenty thousand american sailors in the british navy, each one of whom was liable at any moment to be ordered into this inhuman captivity. a british official document of reported that , american seamen had been imprisoned for refusing to serve against their country. hundreds of these were sent to the living death in the hulks. was it any wonder that, with such facts, before their eyes, americans grew indignant at hearing that the victory of the "constitution" had been won by the prowess of british seamen? but before many days had passed, a victory was recorded for the stars and stripes, which not even the acuteness of an english naval historian could ascribe to any cause other than the naval superiority of the victor. this was the capture, by the united states sloop-of-war "wasp," of the british sloop-of-war "frolic," after a battle ever memorable for the extraordinary dash and bravery shown by each combatant. in size, the "wasp" was one of the inferior vessels of the united states navy. in her architecture and appointments, however, she was the pride of the navy, and was often cited as a model ship of her class. her armament consisted of sixteen thirty-two-pounder carronades, and two "long twelves." when the war broke out, the "wasp" had just left the coast of europe, bearing despatches from the foreign diplomatic representatives of the united states to the government. it was accordingly near the middle of october before the sloop had been refitted, and, with a crew of one hundred and thirty-five men, left the delaware, on her first cruise against the english. her commander was capt. jacob jones, who had served in the war with tripoli, and had himself been a captive among the barbarians of northern africa. after a few days' cruising, with one or two unimportant captures, a bunch of sails was sighted at some distance. the most careful examination failed to reveal the character of the strangers, and jones determined to run down cautiously toward the squadron, to reconnoitre. the wind was blowing fiercely at the time, and a heavy sea was running, from the effects of a gale of the day before, in which the "wasp" lost her jib-boom, together with two sailors who were upon it. as the vessel bore down upon the strangers, jones could see through his marine glasses that they were a convoy of merchantmen, under the protection of a british sloop-of-war. the merchantmen were evidently armed, and some seemed to carry as many as twelve guns. deeming it unwise to attack at that moment, capt. jones kept on a course parallel with that of the enemy, during the remainder of that day and through the night. with the break of day, every officer of the "wasp" was on deck, and all eyes were turned towards the quarter in which the englishmen should be found. there, sure enough, they were. six merchant ships and a bluff little brig, the port-holes in the sides of which showed her to be a war-vessel rating as a sloop. signs of activity on board made it evident that the englishmen had caught sight of the vessel which had been dogging them for the last day, and were making ready to give her battle. the british, too, had suffered in the gale, and the sailors could be seen shipping a new main-yard, and setting new topsails. on the "wasp," the jackies were hard at work, getting in a spar to take the place of the jib-boom, which had been lost in the storm. both ships were under short canvas, for the wind was still high. instead of the english ensign, a spanish flag fluttered from the halliards of the englishman,--an unnecessary ruse to draw on an adversary already seeking a conflict. [illustration: loading.] it was half-past eleven in the morning when the action began. the day was an ideal october morning at sea,--cool, clear, and a breeze blowing fresh and constantly stiffening. the two vessels were running on the starboard tack, not sixty yards apart. as they ploughed through the waves, great clouds of spray dashed over the bows; and every now and then a wave would sweep over the forecastle, drenching the jackies as they stood at their quarters. as they sped along, the two ships exchanged broadsides, the "frolic" firing three to the "wasp's" two. after every broadside, the gunners cheered as they saw the damage done by their fire. when the state of the sea is considered, it seems marvellous that the broadsides should have done any execution whatever. the vessels were rolling terribly, now wallowing in the trough of the sea, and again tossed high on the crest of some enormous wave. at one instant the muzzles of the guns would be pointed toward the skies, then actually submerged under the waves, from which they rose dripping, to be loaded and fired before another dip should soak the charge. yet, with all this rolling to spoil their aim, the gunners of both ships pointed their pieces with most destructive effect. within five minutes from the time of opening fire, the main topmast of the "wasp" was shot away, and hung tangled in the rigging, despite the active efforts of the topmen, headed by the nimble midshipmen, to clear away the wreck. this greatly hampered the movements of the american vessel; and when, a few minutes later, the gaff and the main top-gallant mast fell, the chances of the american ship seemed poor indeed. the effects of the "wasp's" fire were chiefly to be seen in the hull of her antagonist; but the first twenty minutes of the fight seemed to give the englishman every chance of victory, since his fire had so cut away the rigging of the "wasp" that she became unmanageable. it is said that the difference between the execution done by the two batteries was due to the fact that the british fired as their ship was rising on the crest of the wave, while the americans fired from the trough of the sea, sending their shot into the hull of the enemy. while the fight was raging, the two ships were constantly drawing nearer together; and just as it seemed as though the destruction wrought in the "wasp's" rigging would inevitably lead to her defeat, the two vessels fouled. for an instant they lay yard-arm to yard-arm, and at that very moment the american gunners poured in a terrific broadside. so close were the two vessels to each other, that, in loading, the rammers were shoved up against the sides of the "frolic." before the gunners of the "frolic" could respond to this broadside, their ship swung round so that her bow lay against the "wasp's" quarter; and her bowsprit passed over the heads of capt. jones and his officers as they stood on the quarter-deck. that was the moment for a raking volley; and with deadly aim the americans poured it in, and the heavy iron bolts swept the decks of the "frolic" from stem to stern. this turn in the tide of battle fairly crazed with excitement the sailors of the "wasp." with ringing cheers they applauded the success of the last volley, and, springing into the hammock-nettings, called loudly for their officers to lead them on board the english ship. from the quarter-deck, capt. jones, with shouts and gestures, strove to hold back the excited men until another broadside could be given the enemy. but the enthusiasm of the sailors was beyond all control. all at once, they saw a sailor from new jersey, named jack lang, spring on a gun, cutlass in hand, ready to board. all were about to follow him, when capt. jones called him down. only for a minute did jack's sense of duty overcome his enthusiasm; and then, remembering that he had once been impressed on the "frolic," his rage blazed up, and in an instant he was clambering over the nettings, calling for followers. capt. jones saw that the ardor of his crew was beyond his control, and ordered the bugler to call away the boarders. headed by their officers, the bold tars swarmed over the nettings, and through the tangled rigging, to the deck of the enemy's ship. each man clutched his cutlass viciously, for he felt that a desperate conflict was imminent. but when they dropped upon the deck of the "frolic," a most unexpected spectacle met their eyes. the broad deck stretched out before them, untenanted save by a few wounded officers near the stern, and a grim old british seaman at the wheel. instead of the host of armed men with whom the boarders expected to dispute the possession of the ship, they saw before them only heaps of dead sailors lying about the guns which they had been serving. on the quarter-deck lay capt. whinyates and lieut. wintle, desperately wounded. all who were unhurt had fled below, to escape the pitiless fire of the american guns, and the unerring aim of the sailors stationed in the "wasp's" tops. only the old helmsman stood undaunted at his post, and held the ship on her course, even while the americans were swarming over the nettings and clambering down the bowsprit. the colors were still flying above the ship; but there was no one left, either to defend them or to haul them down, and they were finally lowered by the hands of lieut. biddle, who led the boarding party. no action of the war was so sanguinary as this short conflict between two sloops-of-war. the "frolic" went into action with a crew of one hundred and ten men, fully officered. when the colors were hauled down, only twenty men were uninjured. every officer was wounded, and of the crew thirty lost their lives. they had stood to their guns with the dogged courage of the english sailor at his best, and had been fairly mowed down by the destructive fire of the americans. on the "wasp," the loss of life was slight. the shot of the enemy took effect in the rigging chiefly. the three sailors who were killed were topmen at their posts, and the five wounded were almost all stationed in the rigging. [illustration: ready to board.] the americans were not destined to enjoy their triumph long. shattered though the "frolic" was, lieut. biddle, with a prize-crew, took charge of her, and was in hopes of taking her safely to port; but his plan was rudely shattered by the appearance of an english frigate, only a few hours after the action ceased. for the "frolic" to escape, was out of the question. both her masts had gone by the board shortly after her flag was struck; and, when the new enemy hove in sight, the prize-crew was working hard to clear from her decks the tangled mass of rigging, wreckage, and dead bodies, that made the tasks of navigation impossible. the ship was rolling like a log, in the trough of the sea, and was an easy prize for an enemy of even less strength than the man-of-war which was then bearing down upon her. the vessel which came rapidly down before the wind was the "poictiers," a british seventy-four-gun ship, which would have been more than a match for the little "wasp," even though the latter had been fresh and ready for battle, instead of shattered by desperate fight. seeing no chance for a successful resistance, capt. jones determined upon flight, and ordered all hands aloft, to make sail. but the sails when shaken out were found to have been cut to pieces by the "frolic's" shot; and the "poictiers" soon came alongside, and changed the triumph of the americans to defeat. though capt. jones and his gallant crew were thus deprived of their hard-won conquest, they received their full meed of praise from their countrymen. they were soon exchanged, voted twenty-five thousand dollars prize-money by congress, and lauded by every newspaper and legislative orator in the country. the song-writers of the day undertook to celebrate in verse the famous victory, and produced dozens of songs, of which the following stanza may be taken for a fair sample:-- "like the fierce bird of jove the 'wasp' darted forth, and he the tale told, with amazement and wonder. she hurled on the foe from her flame-spreading arms, the fire-brands of death and the red bolts of thunder. and, oh! it was glorious and strange to behold what torrents of fire from her red mouth she threw; and how from her broad wings and sulphurous sides, hot showers of grape-shot and rifle-balls flew!" let us now turn to commodore john rodgers, whose unlucky cruise at the opening of the war we have already noted. having refitted his squadron in the port of new york, he set sail on a second cruise, leaving behind him the "hornet." again he seemed to have fallen upon unprofitable times, for his ships beat up and down in the highway of commerce without sighting a single sail. after several days of inaction, it was determined to scatter the squadron; and to this end the frigate "united states," commodore decatur, and the sixteen-gun brig "argus," capt. sinclair, left the main body of ships and started off on a cruise in company. after the two ships left the main body, commodore rodgers met with better success, capturing a jamaica packet with two hundred thousand dollars in her hold, and chasing a british frigate for two hours, but without overhauling her. in the mean time, the "argus" had parted from her consort, and was cruising to the eastward on her own account, meeting with fair success. during her cruise she captured six merchantmen, and was herself chased by a british squadron. this chase was almost as memorable as that of the "constitution;" for the little brig was hotly pursued for three days and nights, and, to escape her pursuers, was obliged to cut away her boats and anchors, and part with every thing movable save her guns. she escaped at last, however, and was for many months thereafter a source of continual annoyance to the commerce of the enemy. after parting with the "argus," the "united states" had made her course toward the south-east, in the hopes of intercepting some of the british west-indiamen. but what the plucky sailors would consider better luck fell to the lot of the frigate. at dawn on a bright sunday morning, the lookout of the "united states" descried a sail about twelve miles away, on the weather-beam. sail was crowded on the american frigate, and, urged along by a rattling breeze, she made towards the stranger. as the distance between the ships lessened, and the rigging of the stranger showed her to be a frigate, the enthusiasm among the gallant tars of the "united states" grew apace. visions of battle, of glory, and, above all, of resultant prize-money, arose in their minds; and their shouts could be heard by the crew of the distant frigate before the two vessels came within range of each other. the vessel toward which the "united states" was advancing was the "macedonian," a british frigate rating thirty-eight guns, but said to have been carrying forty-nine at this time. she had for some time been reckoned a crack ship of her class in the british navy, and her crew was in admirable training. from her quarter-deck and forecastle groups of officers and seamen were watching the on-coming of the american frigate. one of the powder monkeys, named samuel leech, of the british ship, told graphically and simply the story of that day's doings on the "macedonian." "sunday (dec. , ) came, and it brought with it a stiff breeze," so runs the powder-monkey's tale. "we usually made a sort of holiday of this sacred day. after breakfast it was common to muster the entire crew on the spar-deck, dressed as the fancy of the captain might dictate,--sometimes in blue jackets and white trousers, or blue jackets and blue trousers; at other times in blue jackets, scarlet vests, and blue or white trousers; with our bright anchor-buttons glancing in the sun, and our black, glossy hats ornamented with black ribbons, and the name of our ship painted on them. after muster we frequently had church-service read by the captain; the rest of the day was devoted to idleness. but we were destined to spend the rest of the sabbath just introduced to the reader in a very different manner. "we had scarcely finished breakfast before the man at the masthead shouted 'sail, ho!' "the captain rushed upon deck, exclaiming, 'masthead, there!' "'sir?' "'where away is the sail?' "the precise answer to this question i do not recollect; but the captain proceeded to ask, 'what does she look like?' "'a square-rigged vessel, sir,' was the reply of the lookout. "after a few minutes, the captain shouted again, 'masthead, there!' "'sir?' "'what does she look like?' "'a large ship, sir, standing toward us.' "by this time, most of the crew were on deck, eagerly straining their eyes to obtain a glimpse of the approaching ship, and murmuring their opinions to each other on her probable character. "then came the voice of the captain, shouting, 'keep silence, fore and aft!' "silence being secured, he hailed the lookout, who to his question of 'what does she look like?' replied, "a large frigate bearing down upon us, sir.' "a whisper ran along the crew, that the stranger ship was a yankee frigate. the thought was confirmed by the command of 'all hands clear the ship for action, ahoy!' the drum and fife beat to quarters, bulkheads were knocked away, the guns were released from their confinement, the whole dread paraphernalia of battle was produced; and, after the lapse of a few minutes of hurry and confusion, every man and boy was at his post ready to do his best service for his country, except the band, who, claiming exemption from the affray, safely stowed themselves away in the cable tier. we had only one sick man on the list; and he, at the cry of battle, hurried from his cot, feeble as he was, to take his post of danger. a few of the junior midshipmen were stationed below on the berth-deck, with orders, given in our hearing, to shoot any man who attempted to move from his quarters. "as the approaching ship showed american colors, all doubt of her character was at an end. 'we must fight her,' was the conviction of every breast. every possible arrangement that could insure success was accordingly made. the guns were shotted, the matches lighted; for, although our guns were all furnished with first-class locks, they were also furnished with matches, attached by lanyards, in case the lock should miss fire. a lieutenant then passed through the ship, directing the marines and boarders--who were furnished with pikes, cutlasses, and pistols--how to proceed if it should be necessary to board the enemy. he was followed by the captain, who exhorted the men to fidelity and courage, urging upon their consideration the well-known motto of the brave nelson, _'england expects every man to do his duty.'_ in addition to all these preparations on deck, some men were stationed in the tops with small-arms, whose duty it was to attend to trimming the sails, and to use their muskets, provided we came to close action. there were others, also, below, called sail-trimmers, to assist in working the ship, should it be necessary to shift her position during the battle." thus, with her men at their quarters, her guns primed, and matches lighted, the "macedonian" bore down to open the action. on the "united states," very similar scenes were being enacted. in some respects, the american frigate was a more formidable ship than the adversary she was about to engage. her battery consisted of fifty-four guns, and some were of heavier calibre than those of the "macedonian." her crew, too, was rather larger than that of her adversary. but, in most respects, the ships were well matched. indeed, the commanders of the two ships had met before the opening of the war, and, in conversation, agreed that their vessels were well fitted to test the comparative valor of yankee and english sailors. capt. carden of the "macedonian" had asked decatur what would be the probable result, if the two ships were to meet in battle. "why, sir," responded the american captain, "if we meet with forces that might be fairly called equal, the conflict would be severe; but the flag of my country on the ship i command shall never leave the staff on which it waves, as long as there is a hull to support it." such sentiments as this were ever in the heart of the gallant decatur, whose service in the war of was but the continuation of his dashing career during the war with tripoli. a captain of such ardent bravery could not fail to inspire his crew with the same enthusiasm and confidence. in the crew of the "united states" were many young boys, of ages ranging from twelve to fourteen years. at that time many a lad received his warrant as midshipman while still in his tenth year; and youngsters who wished to join the navy as "ship's boys," were always received, although sometimes their extreme youth made it illegal for their names to be formally enrolled upon the roster of the crew. such was the station of little jack creamer, a ten-year-old boy, who had been serving on the ship for some weeks, although under the age at which he could be legally enlisted. when jack saw the english frigate looming up in the distance, a troubled look came over his face, and he seemed to be revolving some grave problem in his mind. his comrades noticed his look of care, and rallied him on what they supposed to be his fear of the coming conflict. jack stoutly denied this charge, but said he was anxious to speak to the captain before going into action. an old quartermaster marched him up to the quarter-deck, and stood waiting for capt. decatur's attention. in a moment the captain noticed the two, and said cheerily,-- "well, jack, what's wanting now?" touching his hat, the lad replied, "commodore, will you please to have my name put down on the muster-roll?" "why, what for, my lad?" "so that i can draw my share of the prize-money, when we take that britisher, sir." amused and pleased with the lad's confidence in the success of the "united states" in the coming battle, decatur gave the necessary order; and jack went back to his post with a prouder step, for he was now regularly enrolled. the two ships were now coming within range of each other, and a slow, long-distance cannonade was begun, with but little effect; for a long ground-swell was on, and the ships were rolling in a manner fatal to the aim of the gunners. after half an hour of this playing at long bowls, the englishman's mizzen topmast was shot away; and the cannon-balls from the "states" whizzed through the rigging, and splashed into the water about the "macedonian," in a way that proved the american gunners had the range, and were utilizing it. capt. carden soon saw that at long range the american gunners were more than a match for his men, and he resolved to throw prudence to the winds; and, disdaining all manoeuvring, bore straight down on the american ship that lay almost stationary on the water, pouring in rapid and well-aimed broadsides. though a gallant and dashing movement, this course led to the defeat of the english ship. the fire of the americans was deadly in its aim, and marvellous in rapidity. so continuous was the flashing of the discharges from the broadside ports, that the sailors on the "macedonian" thought their adversary was on fire, and cheered lustily. but the next instant their exultation was turned to sorrow; for a well-directed shot cut away the mizzen-mast, which fell alongside, suspended by the cordage. "huzza, jack!" cried the captain of a gun on the "united states." "we've made a brig of her." "ay, ay, my lad," said decatur, who stood near by; "now aim well at the main-mast, and she'll be a sloop soon." a few minutes later, the captain shouted to the nearest gunner, "aim at the yellow streak. her spars and rigging are going fast enough. she must have a little more hulling." this order was immediately passed along the gun-deck, until every gunner was striving his utmost to plant his shot in the hull of the enemy. the effect was terrible. the great missiles crashed through the wooden sides of the english frigate, and swept the decks clear of men. she was coming down on the american bravely, and with manifest intention of boarding; but so skilfully was the "united states" manoeuvred, and so accurate and rapid was her fire, that the "macedonian" was unable to close, and was fairly cut to pieces, while still more than a pistol-shot distant. the "united states," in the mean time, was almost unscathed. the aim of the english gunners was usually too high, and such shots as took effect were mainly in the rigging. after pounding away at the "macedonian" until the chocks of the forecastle guns on that ship were cut away, her boats cut to pieces, and her hull shattered with more than one hundred shot-holes, the american ship drew away slightly. the british thought she was in retreat, and cheered lustily, but were soon undeceived; for, after a little manoeuvring, the "united states" ranged up under her adversary's lee, securing a raking position. before a broadside could be fired, the british hauled down their flag; and the action was ended, after just an hour and a half of fighting. the slaughter on the british frigate had been appalling. from the official accounts, we glean the cold reports of the numbers of the killed and wounded; but for any picture of the scene on the decks of the defeated man-of-war, we must turn to such descriptions as have been left by eye-witnesses. sailors are not much given to the habit of jotting down the descriptions of the many stirring scenes in which they play parts in their adventurous careers; and much that is romantic, much that is picturesque, and much that is of historic value, has thus been lost to history. but of the details of the action between the "macedonian" and "united states," the sailor-lad already quoted has left an account, probably as trustworthy as should be expected of a witness in his situation. he was stationed at one of the guns on the main-deck; and it was his duty, as powder-boy, to run to the magazine for powder for his gun. before the entrance to the magazine was a heavy wooden screen, pierced with a hole through which the cartridges were passed out to the fleet-footed powder-monkeys, as they rushed up for more powder. each boy, on getting his cartridge, wrapped it in his jacket, that no stray spark might touch it, and dashed off at full speed for his gun, quickly returning for further supplies. with the men all standing pale and silent at the guns, the "macedonian" came on doggedly towards her foe. three guns fired from the larboard side of the gun-deck opened the action; but the fire was quickly stopped by the gruff order from the quarter-deck, "cease firing: you are throwing away your shot!" then came the roar of the opening volley from the american frigate. "a strange noise such as i had never heard before next arrested my attention," wrote the english sailor-lad. "it sounded like the tearing of sails just over our heads. this i soon ascertained to be the wind of the enemy's shot. the firing, after a few minutes' cessation, recommenced. the roaring of cannon could now be heard from all parts of our trembling ship; and, mingling as it did with that of our foes, it made a most hideous noise. by and by i heard the shot strike the sides of our ship. the whole scene grew indescribably confused and horrible. it was like some awfully tremendous thunderstorm, whose deafening roar is attended by incessant streaks of lightning, carrying death in every flash, and strewing the ground with the victims of its wrath; only in our case the scene was rendered more horrible than that by the presence of torrents of blood, which dyed our decks. though the recital may be painful, yet, as it will reveal the horrors of war, and show at what a fearful price the victory is won or lost, i will present the reader with things as they met my eye during the progress of this dreadful fight. i was busily supplying my gun with powder, when i saw blood suddenly fly from the arm of a man stationed at our gun. i saw nothing strike him: the effect alone was visible; and in an instant the third lieutenant tied his handkerchief round the wounded arm, and sent the poor fellow below to the surgeon. "the cries of the wounded now rang through all parts of the ship. these were carried to the cock-pit as fast as they fell, while those more fortunate men who were killed outright were immediately thrown overboard. as i was stationed but a short distance from the main hatchway, i could catch a glance at all who were carried below. a glance was all i could indulge in; for the boys belonging to the guns next to mine were wounded in the early part of the action, and i had to spring with all my might to keep three or four guns supplied with cartridges. i saw two of these lads fall nearly together. one of them was struck in the leg by a large shot; he had to suffer amputation above the wound. the other had a grape or canister sent through his ankle. a stout yorkshire man lifted him in his arms, and hurried with him to the cock-pit. he had his foot cut off, and was thus made lame for life. two of the boys stationed on the quarter-deck were killed. they were both portuguese. a man who saw one killed afterwards told me that his powder caught fire, and burnt the flesh almost off his face. in this pitiable situation the agonized boy lifted up both hands, as if imploring relief, when a passing shot instantly cut him in two." but the narrative of this young sailor, a boy in years, is almost too horrible for reproduction. he tells of men struck by three or four missiles at once, and hacked to pieces; of mangled sailors, mortally wounded, but still living, thrown overboard to end their sufferings; of the monotonous drip of the blood on the deck, as desperately wounded men were carried past. the brave seaman who left his bed of sickness for the post of duty had his head carried away by a cannon-ball. the schoolmaster who looked after the education of the midshipmen was killed. even a poor goat, kept by the officers for her milk, was cut down by a cannon-ball, and, after hobbling piteously about the deck, was mercifully thrown overboard. and this was sunday, christmas day! the spot amidships where our sailor-lad was stationed must have been the hottest station in the whole ship. many years later, as herman melville, the author of several exciting sea-tales, was walking the deck of a man-of-war with an old negro, "tawney," who had served on the "macedonian," the veteran stopped at a point abreast the main-mast. "this part of the ship," said he, "we called the slaughter-house, on board the 'macedonian.' here the men fell, five and six at a time. an enemy always directs its shot here, in order to hurl over the mast, if possible. the beams and carlines overhead in the 'macedonian' slaughter-house were spattered with blood and brains. about the hatchways it looked like a butcher's stall. a shot entering at one of the port-holes dashed dead two-thirds of a gun's crew. the captain of the next gun, dropping his lock-string, which he had just pulled, turned over the heap of bodies, to see who they were; when, perceiving an old messmate who had sailed with him in many cruises, he burst into tears, and taking the corpse up in his arms, and going to the side with it, held it over the water a moment, and eying it, cried, 'o god! tom'--'hang your prayers over that thing! overboard with it, and down to your gun!' the order was obeyed, and the heart-stricken sailor returned to his post." amid such scenes of terror, the british tars fought on doggedly, cheering loudly as they worked their guns, but not knowing why they cheered; for the officers, at least, could see how surely the battle was going against them. when the "united states" drew away to repair damages, the british officers held a consultation on the quarter-deck. they could not but see that their position was hopeless; and, knowing all further resistance to be folly, the flag was hauled down. to the pride of the officers, the surrender was doubtless a severe blow. but sam leech remarks pithily, that to him "it was a pleasing sight; for he had seen fighting enough for one sabbath,--more, indeed, than he wished to see again on a week-day." decatur at once hailed, to learn the name of his prize, and then sent off a boat with lieut. allen to take possession. he found the decks of the ship in a fearful state. many of the crew had found liquor, and were drinking heavily. others were throwing the dead into the sea, carrying the wounded below, and sprinkling the deck with hot vinegar, to remove the stains and odor of blood. the dead numbered forty-three, and sixty-one were wounded. an eye-witness of the terrible spectacle writes of it: "fragments of the dead were distributed in every direction, the decks covered with blood,--one continued, agonizing yell of the unhappy wounded. a scene so horrible of my fellow-creatures, i assure you, deprived me very much of the pleasure of victory." yet, with all this terrific destruction and loss of life on the "macedonian," the "united states" was but little injured; and her loss amounted to but seven killed, and five wounded. indeed, so slight was the damage done to the american ship, that an hour's active work by her sailors put her in trim for a second battle. while lieut. allen was examining the muster-rolls of the "macedonian," a sailor pushed his way toward the quarter-deck, and cried out that he was an impressed american, and that he had seven mates aboard, all pressed into the british service. they had all been forced to serve against their country, and in the battle three had been killed. just before the battle began, they had begged to be sent below, but were peremptorily ordered to stand by their guns, or expect to be treated as mutineers. now that the battle was over, the five who were left alive begged to be taken into the crew of the "united states," which was accordingly done. after the "macedonian" had been formally taken possession of by lieut. allen, the british officers were removed to the american ship. some of them were inclined to be very surly over their defeat, and by words and actions showed their contempt for the americans, whose prisoners they were. in the first boat which went from the prize to the victor was the first lieutenant of the "macedonian." as he clambered down the side of his vessel, he noticed that his baggage had not been put in the boat which was to bear him to the american frigate. turning to lieut. allen, he said surlily,-- "you do not intend to send me away without my baggage?" "i hope," responded allen courteously, "that you do not take us for privateersmen." "i am sure i don't know by whom i have been taken," was the rude reply, which so angered allen that he peremptorily ordered the fellow to take his place in the boat, and be silent. whatever may have been the demeanor of the british captives, they met with nothing but the most considerate treatment from the american officers. capt. carden, on his arrival upon the deck of the victorious frigate, was received with the consideration due his rank and the brave defence of his vessel. he was conducted at once to decatur's cabin, on entering which he took off his sword, and mutely held it out for decatur's acceptance. decatur courteously refused to accept it, saying, "sir, i cannot take the sword of a man who has defended his ship so bravely; but i will take your hand." as long as carden and his officers remained on the ship, they were treated with the greatest consideration, and were allowed to retain all their personal property. every attempt was made to take away from them the bitter remembrance of their defeat. the innate nobility of decatur's nature is well shown in a letter written to his wife a few days after the action. "one-half of the satisfaction," he says, "a-rising from this victory is destroyed in seeing the mortification of poor carden, who deserved success as much as we did who had the good fortune to obtain it." when carden left the ship, he thanked decatur for his consideration, and expressed a desire to do likewise by the americans, should he ever be able to turn the tables. amid the heat of battle and the excitement of success, decatur did not forget little jack creamer, the lately enrolled ship's boy. shortly after the close of the conflict, he sent for jack to come to his cabin. soon a much abashed small boy stood before the captain. "well, jack," said the great man, "we did take her, after all." "yes, your honor," responded jack. "i knew we would, before we gave her the first broadside." "and your share of the prize-money," continued decatur, "may amount to two hundred dollars, if we get her safe into port. now, what are you going to do with so much money?" jack's eyes had lighted up at the thought of such great wealth. "please, sir," he cried, "i'll send half of it to my mother; and the rest will get me a bit of schooling." "well said, jack," said decatur warmly; and the interview closed for the time. but the captain's interest in the boy was aroused, and for years he showed an almost fatherly regard for the lad. jack had his "bit of schooling," then received a midshipman's warrant, and for years served with decatur, giving promise of becoming an able officer. at last, however, his career was ended by the accidental upsetting of a boat when on a pleasure excursion in the mediterranean. after putting in for a short time at new london, the two ships, captor and captive, proceeded down the sound to new york. here they arrived on the st of january, ; and the news-writers of the day straightway hailed the "macedonian" as "a new year's gift, with the compliments of old neptune." however, the news of the victory had spread throughout the land before the ships came up to new york; for decatur had sent out a courier from new london to bear the tidings to washington. a curious coincidence made the delivery of the despatch as impressive as a studied dramatic scene. it so happened that the people of washington had chosen the night of dec. for a grand ball, to be tendered to the officers of the navy, and particularly to capt. stewart of the "constellation." a brilliant company was gathered, in honor of the occasion. the secretary of the navy, and other cabinet officers, lent their presence to the festivities. capt. hull of the victorious "constitution" was present; and, to make the affair even more of a triumph, the captured colors of the "alert" and the "guerriere" were draped on the wall of the hall. near midnight, the revelry was at its height. the brilliant toilets of the ladies; the men, gorgeous in the uniforms of the army, navy, or diplomatic corps; the light of a thousand wax-candles flashing from a myriad of sconces,--made the scene one of the utmost splendor. all at once, in the midst or the stately measures of the old-fashioned minuet, a murmur rose near the entrance to the hall, and spread until every one was whispering, that news had come of a great naval battle, a victory. word was brought to the secretary of the navy. he directed that the bearer of the despatches should be at once admitted; and, amid cheers and clapping of hands, lieut. hamilton entered the hall, and delivered his despatches to his father, the secretary of the navy. the tenor of the despatch was soon known to all; and lieut. hamilton turned from the greetings of his mother and sisters, who were present, to receive the congratulations of his brother-officers. he had brought the colors of the captured ship with him to the city; and capts. stewart and hull immediately went in search of them, and soon returned, bearing the flag between them. the two veteran sailors marched the length of the hall, amid the plaudits of the gay company, and laid the colors before mrs. madison,--the dolly madison who is still remembered as the most popular of the "ladies of the white house." then the company proceeded to the banquet-hall, where, to the list of toasts already prepared, was added, "the health of commodore decatur and the officers and crew of the 'united states.'" two weeks later, capt. decatur and his officers and the crew of the "united states" were sumptuously entertained by the citizens of new york. the officers were tendered a banquet in the great assembly-room of the city hotel, which was decked with laurel and ship's spars and sails. the chief table at the head of the room, at which sat mayor de witt clinton and capts. hull and decatur, was a marvel of decoration. its centre was taken up by a sheet of water with grassy banks, bearing on its placid surface a miniature frigate floating at her moorings. each of the smaller tables bore a small frigate on a pedestal in the centre of the board. on the wall at the end of the room hung a heavy sail, on which was printed the motto,-- "our children are the property of their country." after the dinner was ended and the toasts were begun, the health of the navy was proposed. at the word, the great sail began to ascend, and, being drawn to the ceiling, disclosed an illuminated transparent painting, showing vividly the scenes of the three great actions won by the "constitution," the "united states," and the "wasp." the whole company rose and cheered, until the walls of the hall fairly rung. three days later, the jackies from the forecastle of the "united states" were entertained. they were landed at the battery, and marched in procession to the hotel, headed by a brass band which had been captured with the "macedonian." four hundred of the fine fellows were in the line, clad in the dress uniform of the navy of that time. glazed canvas hats with stiff rims, decked with streamers of ribbon; blue jackets buttoned loosely over red waistcoats; and blue trousers with bell-buttons,--made up the toggery of the tar of . as they marched, two by two, through the narrow streets that led to the city hotel, the populace assembled on the sidewalks and in the windows along the route, greeting the jackies with cheers. the rear was brought up by the usual band of street-urchins, each of whom that day was firm in his determination to be a sailor. after the banquet at the hotel, the sailors were marched to the theatre, where the pit had been set aside for them. the orchestra opened with "yankee doodle;" but the first bar had hardly been played, when the cheers of the blue-jackets fairly drowned the music, and the musicians were fain to stop. the programme had been arranged with special regard to the seafaring audience. little children bounded upon the stage, bearing huge letters in their hands, and, after lightly whirling through the mazes of the dance, grouped themselves so that the letters formed the words,-- hull, jones, decatur. then came more cheers from the pit; and more than one glazed hat soared over the heads of the audience, and fell on the stage,--a purely nautical substitute for a bouquet. late at night, the sailors returned to their ship, elated with an ovation the like of which has never since been tendered to the humble heroes of the forecastle or the ranks. chapter vi. bainbridge takes command of the "constitution." -- the defeat of the "java." -- close of the year's hostilities on the ocean. as hull and decatur sat in the gayly decorated banquet-hall at new york, and, amid the plaudits of the brilliant assembly, drank bumpers to the success of the navy, they little thought that thousands of miles away the guns of an american frigate were thundering, and the stout-hearted blue-jackets laying down their lives for the honor and glory of the united states. but so it was. the opening year of the war was not destined to close without yet a fourth naval victory for the americans; and, at the very moment when they were so joyfully celebrating the glories already won, capt. bainbridge in the good ship "constitution" was valiantly giving battle to a british frigate far south of the equator. before considering the details of this last action of the year , let us recount briefly the movements of some american vessels in commission at this time. after sending the "guerriere" to the bottom of the sea, and bringing her officers and crew in triumph into boston, capt. hull had voluntarily relinquished the command of the "constitution," in order that some other officer might win laurels with the noble frigate. in his place was appointed capt. bainbridge, who had served in the wars with france and tripoli. after a short time spent in refitting, bainbridge sailed from boston, accompanied by the "hornet," eighteen guns. the "essex," thirty-two, capt. porter, was lying in the delaware at the time bainbridge left boston, and her captain was ordered to cruise in the track of british west-indiamen. after spending some time in this service, he was to turn southward and visit several south american ports, with a view to joining bainbridge. should he fail to find the "constitution," he was free to act at his own discretion. this permission gave porter an opportunity to make a cruise seldom equalled in naval annals, and which will form the subject of a subsequent chapter. the "constitution" and "hornet" left boston on the th of october, and shaped their course at once for the south. they put in at two or three ports which had been named to capt. porter as meeting-places, but, finding no trace of the "essex," continued their cruise. at port praya in the island of st. jago, and at fernando noronha, the two ships assumed the character of british men-of-war. officers from whose uniform every trace of the american eagle had been carefully removed went ashore, and, after paying formal visits to the governors of the two islands, requested permission to leave letters for sir james yeo of his majesty's service. though directed to this prominent british naval officer, the letters were intended for capt. porter, and contained directions for his cruise, written in sympathetic ink. after the letters were deposited, the two vessels left; and we may be sure that the british colors came down from the masthead as soon as the ships were out of sight. the next point at which the american ships stopped was san salvador, on the coast of brazil. here bainbridge lay-to outside the harbor, and sent in capt. lawrence with the "hornet" to communicate with the american consul. lawrence returned greatly excited. in the harbor he had found the british sloop-of-war "bonne citoyenne," of twenty guns, which was on the point of sailing for england. a more evenly matched adversary for the "hornet" could not have been found, and the yankee sailors longed for an engagement. a formal challenge was sent, through the american consul, to the captain of the british ship, requesting him to come out and try conclusions with the "hornet." every assurance was offered that the "constitution" would remain in the offing, and take no part in the battle, which was to test the strength of the two equally matched ships only. some days later, this challenge was reduced to writing, and sent to the english captain. but that officer declined the challenge, giving as his reason the fact that he had in his ship over half a million pounds in specie, which it was his duty to convey to england. for him to give battle to the "hornet," would therefore be unwise, as he would put in jeopardy this money which it was his duty to guard. this response was conclusive, and the englishman must be admitted to have acted wisely; but the knowledge of the valuable cargo of the "bonne citoyenne" only increased the desire of the americans to capture her. the "hornet" accordingly remained outside the harbor, as a blockader, while the "constitution" continued her cruise alone. [illustration: assuming to be british men-of-war.] she had not far to go in order to meet an enemy well worthy of her metal. three days after parting with the "hornet," two sail were made, well in shore. one of the vessels so sighted seemed to make for the land, as though anxious to avoid meeting the american ship; while the other came about, and made her course boldly toward the "constitution." it was about nine o'clock on a bright december morning that the "constitution" encountered the strange vessel, which bore down upon her. a light breeze, of sufficient force to enable the vessels to manoeuvre, was blowing; but the surface of the ocean was as placid as a lake in summer. the build of the stranger left no doubt of her warlike character, and the bold manner in which she sought a meeting with the american ship convinced bainbridge that he had fallen in with an enemy. the "constitution" did not for a time meet the enemy's advances in kind. back of the advancing frigate could be seen the low, dark coast-line of brazil, into whose neutral waters the englishman could retreat, and thus gain protection, if the conflict seemed to go against him. bainbridge determined that the coming battle should be fought beyond the possibility of escape for the vanquished, and therefore drew away gradually as the stranger came on. by noon the two ships were near enough together for flags to be visible, when bainbridge set his colors, and displayed private signals. the enemy did the same; and, though his signals were unintelligible, the flag that fluttered at the masthead was clearly the flag of great britain. bainbridge continued his retreat for an hour longer, then, being far enough from land, took in his main-sail and royals, and tacked toward the englishman. by this time the strange sail which had been sighted in company with the english ship had disappeared. the low-lying coast of brazil had sunk below the horizon. from the deck of the "constitution," nothing could be seen but the vast circle of placid ocean, and the english frigate about a mile to the windward, bearing down to open the fight. the drums beat, and the crew went quietly and in perfect order to their quarters. they were no longer the raw, untrained crew that had joined the ship some months before. they were veterans, with the glorious victory over the "guerriere" fresh in their remembrance, and now animated with a desire to add to their trophies the strange vessel then in sight. as the enemy, which proved to be the "java," thirty-eight, capt. lambert, came nearer, she hauled down her colors, leaving only a jack flying. a jack is a small flag hoisted at the bowsprit cap. the union jack of the united states navy is a blue flag dotted with stars, but without the stripes of the national flag; the jack of great britain has the scarlet cross of st. george on a blue field. the englishman's action in hauling down his ensigns puzzled bainbridge, who sent a shot as an order that they be raised again. the response to this reminder came in the form of a heavy broadside, and the action opened. in the light wind that was blowing, the enemy proved the better sailer, and soon forged ahead. his object was to cross the bows of the american ship, and get in a raking broadside,--the end and aim of most of the naval manoeuvring in those days of wooden ships and heavy batteries. by skilful seamanship, bainbridge warded off the danger; and the fight continued broadside to broadside. the firing on both sides was rapid and well directed. after half an hour of fighting, the "constitution" was seriously crippled by a round shot, which carried away her wheel, and wounded bainbridge by driving a small copper bolt deep into his thigh. for a moment it seemed as though the american ship was lost. having no control over the rudder, her head fell off, her sails flapped idly against the spars, and the enemy was fast coming into an advantageous position. but, though wounded, the indomitable yankee captain was equal to the occasion. tackle was rigged upon the rudder-post between decks, and a crew of jackies detailed to work the improvised helm. the helmsmen were far out of earshot of the quarter-deck: so a line of midshipmen was formed from the quarter-deck to the spot where the sailors tugged at the steering-lines. "hard-a-port!" bainbridge would shout from his station on the quarter-deck. [illustration: marines picking off the enemy.] "hard-a-port! hard-a-port!" came the quick responses, as the midshipmen passed the word along. and so the ship was steered; and, notwithstanding the loss of her wheel, fairly out-manoeuvred her antagonist. the first raking broadside was delivered by the "constitution," and did terrible execution along the gun-deck of the english ship. the two ships then ran before the wind, exchanging broadsides at a distance of half pistol-shot. at this game the american was clearly winning: so the englishman determined to close and board, in the dashing, fearless way that had made the tars of great britain the terror of all maritime peoples. the frigate bore down on the "constitution," and struck her on the quarter; the long jib-boom tearing its way through the rigging of the american ship. but, while this movement was being executed, the american gunners had not been idle; and the results of their labors were very evident, in the rigging of the "java." her jib-boom and bowsprit were so shattered by shot, that they were on the point of giving way; and, as the ships met, the mizzen-mast fell, crashing through forecastle and main-deck, crushing officers and sailors beneath it in the fall, and hurling the topmen into the ocean to drown. the "constitution" shot ahead, but soon wore and lay yard-arm to yard-arm with her foe. for some minutes the battle raged with desperation. a dense sulphurous smoke hung about the hulls of the two ships, making any extended vision impossible. once in a while a fresher puff of wind, or a change in the position of the ships, would give the jackies a glimpse of their enemy, and show fierce faces glaring from the open ports, as the great guns were drawn in for loading. then the gray pall of smoke fell, and nothing was to be seen but the carnage near at hand. the officers on the quarter-deck could better judge of the progress of the fray; and, the marines stationed there took advantage of every clear moment to pick off some enemy with a shot from one of their muskets. high up in the tops of the "constitution" were two small howitzers, with which crews of topmen, under the command of midshipmen, made lively play with grape and canister upon the crowded decks of the enemy. from the cavernous submarine depths of the cock-pit and magazine, to the tops of each ship, not an idler was to be found. chaplains, surgeons, clerks, cooks, and waiters--all were working or fighting for the honor of the flag under which they served. again the british determined to board; and the quick, sharp notes of the bugle calling up the boarders gave warning of their intentions. the men in the tops of the american frigate, looking down from their lofty station, could see the crowd of boarders and marines gathered on the forecastle and in the gang-ways, and could hear the shrill notes of the boatswain's whistle cheering them on. at that moment, however, the american fire raked the enemy with fearful effect, and the volleys of musketry from the marines and topmen made such havoc among the crowded boarders that the attempt was abandoned. the deadly fire of the americans was not slackened. capt. lambert was struck down, mortally wounded; and the command fell upon lieut. chads, who, though himself badly wounded, continued the fight with true british courage. over the side of the "java" hung the wreck of her top-hamper, which every broadside set on fire. yet the british tars fought on, cheering lustily, and not once thinking of surrender, though they saw their foremast gone, their mizzen-mast shivered, even the last flag shot away, and the last gun silenced. when affairs had reached this stage, the "constitution," seeing no flag flying on the enemy, hauled away, and set about repairing her own damages. while thus engaged, the main-mast of the "java" was seen to go by the board, and the ship lay a hopeless wreck upon the water. after making some slight repairs, bainbridge returned to take possession of his prize, but, to his surprise, found a jack still floating over the helpless hulk. it was merely a bit of bravado, however; for, as the "constitution" ranged up alongside, the jack was hauled down. [illustration: in the cross-trees.] the "java" proved to be a rich prize. she was one of the best of the english frigates, and had just been especially fitted up for the accommodation of the governor-general of bombay and his staff, all of whom were then on board. this added to the regular number of officers and crew more than one hundred prisoners, mostly of high rank in british military and social circles. the boarding officer found the ship so badly cut up that to save her was impossible. her loss in men, including her captain henry lambert, and five midshipmen, was forty-eight, together with one hundred and five wounded, among whom were many officers. the "constitution" had suffered much less severely, having but twelve killed and twenty wounded. the ship herself was but little damaged; her chief injury being the loss of her wheel, which was immediately replaced by that of the "java." capt. bainbridge now found himself a great distance from home, with a disabled ship filled with prisoners, many of whom were wounded. even had the wreck of the "java" been less complete, it would have been hazardous to attempt to take her back to the united states through the west india waters that swarmed with british vessels. no course was open save to take the prisoners aboard the "constitution," and set the torch to the disabled hulk. to do this was a work of no little difficulty. the storm of lead and iron that had swept across the decks of the british frigate had left intact not one of the boats that hung from the davits. the "constitution" had fared better; but, even with her, the case was desperate, for the british cannonade had left her but two serviceable boats. to transfer from the sinking ship to the victorious frigate nearly five hundred men, over a hundred of whom were wounded, was a serious task when the means of transfer were thus limited. three days the "constitution" lay by her defeated enemy, and hour after hour the boats plied between the two ships. the first to be moved were the wounded. tackle was rigged over the side of the "java;" and the mangled sufferers, securely lashed in their hammocks, were gently lowered into the waiting boat, and soon found themselves in the sick-bay of the american ship, where they received the gentlest treatment from those who a few hours before sought only to slay them. the transfer of the wounded once accomplished, the work proceeded with great rapidity: and in the afternoon of the third day the "constitution" was filled with prisoners; and the "java," a deserted, shattered hulk, was ready for the last scene in the drama of her career. the last boat left the desolate wreck, and, reaching the "constitution," was hauled up to the davits. the side of the american frigate next to the abandoned ship was crowded with men, who looked eagerly across the water. through the open port-holes of the "java," a flickering gleam could be seen, playing fitfully upon the decks and gun-carriages. the light grew brighter, and sharp-tongued flames licked the outside of the hull, and set the tangled cordage in a blaze. with this the whole ship seemed to burst into fire, and lay tossing, a huge ball of flame, on the rising sea. when the fire was raging most fiercely, there came a terrific explosion, and the great hull was lifted bodily from the water, falling back shattered into countless bits. guns, anchors, and ironwork dragged the greater part of the wreckage to the bottom; and when the "constitution," with all sail set, left the spot, the captive englishmen, looking sadly back, could see only a patch of charred woodwork and cordage floating upon the ocean to mark the burial-place of the sturdy frigate "java." the "constitution" made sail for san salvador, where the prisoners were landed; first giving their paroles not to serve against the "united states" until regularly exchanged. bainbridge then took his ship to boston, where she arrived in february, . the substitution of the wheel of the "java" for that of the "constitution," shot away in battle, has been alluded to. in his biography of capt. bainbridge, fenimore cooper relates a story of interest regarding this trophy. it was a year or two after peace was made with england, in , that a british naval officer visited the "constitution," then lying at the boston navy-yard. the frigate had been newly fitted out for a cruise to the mediterranean; and an american officer, with some pride, showed the englishman over the ship, which was then undoubtedly the finest of american naval vessels. after the tour of the ship had been made, the host said, as they stood chatting on the quarter-deck,-- "well, what do you think of her?" "she is one of the finest frigates, if not the very finest, i ever put my foot aboard of," responded the englishman; "but, as i must find some fault, i'll just say that your wheel is one of the clumsiest things i ever saw, and is unworthy of the vessel." the american officer laughed. "well, you see," said he, "when the 'constitution' took the 'java,' the former's wheel was shot out of her. the 'java's' wheel was fitted on the victorious frigate, to steer by; and, although we think it as ugly as you do, we keep it as a trophy." all criticisms on the wheel ended then and there. the defeat of the "java" closed the warfare on the ocean during . the year ended with the honors largely in the possession of the united states navy. the british could boast of the capture of but two armed vessels,--the "nautilus," whose capture by an overwhelming force we have already noted; and the little brig "vixen," twelve guns, which sir james yeo, with the "southampton," thirty-two, had overhauled and captured in the latter part of november. the capture of the "wasp" by the "poictiers," when the american sloop-of-war was cut up by her action with the "frolic," was an occurrence, which, however unfortunate for the americans, reflected no particular honor upon the british arms. in opposition to this record, the americans could boast of victory in four hard-fought battles. in no case had they won through any lack of valor on the part of their antagonists; for the englishmen had not sought to avoid the battle, and had fought with the dogged valor characteristic of their nation. in one or two instances, it is true that the americans were more powerful than the foe whom they engaged; but, in such cases, the injury inflicted was out of all proportion to the disparity in size of the combatants. the four great actions resulting in the defeat of the "guerriere," the "frolic," the "macedonian," and the "java," showed conclusively that the american blue-jackets were equal in courage to their british opponents, and far their superiors in coolness, skill, discipline, and self-reliance; and these qualities may be said to have won the laurels for the american navy that were conceded to it by all impartial observers. besides the victories over the four british ships enumerated, the americans had captured the "alert," and a british transport bearing a considerable detachment of troops. these achievements, as involving no bloodshed, may be set off against the captures of the "nautilus" and "vixen" by the british. of the number of british merchant-vessels captured, the records are so incomplete that no accurate estimate can be made. to the naval vessels are accredited forty-six captures among the enemy's merchant-marine, and this estimate is probably very nearly accurate. but with the declaration of war, portsmouth, salem, new london, new york, baltimore, and, indeed, every american seaport, fitted out fleet privateers to prey upon the enemy's commerce. the sails of this private armed navy fairly whitened the sea, and few nights were not illuminated by the flames of some burning prize. as their chief object was plunder, the aim of the privateers was to get their prize safely into port; but, when this was impossible, they were not slow in applying the torch to the captured vessel. the injury they inflicted upon the enemy was enormous, and the record of their exploits might well engage the industry of painstaking historians. as an adjunct to the regular navy, they were of great service in bringing the war to a happy conclusion. it is not to be supposed that the british men-of-war and privateers were idle while the americans were thus sweeping the seas. more than one american vessel set sail boldly from some little new england port, freighted with the ventures of all classes of tradesmen, only to be snapped up by a rapacious cruiser. but the mercantile marine of the united states was but small, and offered no such rewards to enterprising privateers as did the goodly fleets of west-indiamen that bore the flag of great britain. and so, while the american privateers were thriving and reaping rich rewards of gold and glory, those of the british were gradually abandoning privateering in disgust. the american prize-lists grew so large, that the newspapers commenced the practice of publishing weekly a list of the enemy's ships taken during the week past. in baltimore, henry niles, in his paper "the weekly register," robbed "the london naval chronicle" of its vainglorious motto,-- "the winds and seas are britain's broad domain, and not a sail but by permission spreads." this sentiment niles printed at the head of his weekly list of british vessels captured by united states vessels,--a bit of satire not often equalled in the columns of newspapers of to-day. chapter vii. the war on the lakes. -- the attack on sackett's harbor. -- oliver hazard perry ordered to lake erie. -- the battle of put-in-bay. let us now abandon for a time our consideration of the progress of the great naval war on the ocean, and turn our attention to a humbler theatre, in which the drama of battle was proceeding with no less credit to the american participants, though with less grand and inspiring accessories. on the great fresh-water lakes which skirt the northern frontier of the united states, the two warring powers contended fiercely for the mastery. but there were no desperate duels between well-matched frigates; nor, indeed, did either the british or american squadron of the lake station boast a craft of sufficient armament to be termed a frigate, until the war was nearly at an end. barges, gunboats, sloops, schooners, and brigs made up the squadrons that fought for the possession of the fresh-water seas; and few either of the jackies of the forecastle or the officers of the quarter-deck were bred to the regular service. with such forces it could only happen that the encounters of the foes should be little more than skirmishes, and that neither in immediate loss of life nor in direct results should these skirmishes be important. such, in fact, was the general character of the hostilities on the lakes, with two noteworthy exceptions,--perry's victory at put-in-bay, and mcdonough's successful resistance of the british on lake champlain. that the war should invade the usually peaceful waters of ontario, erie, and champlain, was inevitable from the physical characteristics of the northern frontier of the united states. great britain held canada; and an invasion of her enemy's territory from that province was a military measure, the advisability of which was evident to the most untaught soldier. no overland expedition could hope to make its way through the dense forests of maine, new hampshire, vermont, or the adirondack region of new york. but the lakes offered a tempting opening for invasion. particularly did the placid, navigable waters of lake champlain, stretching, from the canada line far into the heart of new york, invite the invader; while lakes erie and ontario afforded an opportunity for attacking the americans on what was then, practically, their western frontier. the americans were not slow in perceiving the dangers that threatened their north-western frontier, and began to prepare for its defence most energetically at the first declaration of war. it was a work that taxed to the utmost the resources of the young country. the shores of the lakes as far west as detroit were open to the attacks of the enemy, and, although part of the territory of the united states, were really more accessible to the invaders than to the american defenders. the population was sparse, and the means of transportation very primitive. before the days of railroads, canals, or even well-kept turnpikes, troops, seamen, ordnance, and all munitions of war could only be transported from the cities on the seacoast by the most laborious hauling over roads hardly worthy of the name. nor was the transportation problem solved during the continuance of the war. when in may, , the new united states frigate "superior" lay at her dock at sackett's harbor, her ordnance, stores, and cordage had to be brought from oswego falls, some fifty miles away. a clear water-route by the oswego river and the lake offered itself; but sir james yeo, with his squadron, was blockading the mouth of the harbor, and the chance for blockade-runners was small indeed. to carry the heavy ordnance and cables overland, was out of the question. the dilemma was most perplexing, but yankee ingenuity finally enabled the "superior" to get her outfit. the equipment was loaded upon a small fleet of barges and scows, which a veteran lake captain took to a point sixteen miles from the blockaded harbor. by sailing by night, and skulking up creeks and inland water-ways, the transports reached this point without attracting the attention of the blockading fleet. they had, however, hardly arrived when news of the enterprise came to the ears of the british, and an expedition was sent to intercept the americans, which expedition the yankees successfully resisted. the question then arose as to how the stores were to be taken across the sixteen miles of marsh and forest that lay between the boats and the navy-yard at sackett's harbor. the cannon and lighter stores were transported on heavy carts with great difficulty, but there still remained the great cable. how to move this was a serious question. no cart could bear its ponderous weight of ninety-six hundred pounds. again yankee ingenuity and pluck came to the rescue. two hundred men volunteered to carry the great rope on their shoulders, and in this way it actually was transported. along the shore of the little creek the great cable was stretched out with prodigious labor, and lay there looking like a gigantic serpent. the two hundred men ranged themselves along the line at regular intervals, and at a given signal hoisted the burden to their shoulders. at the word of command, all stepped off briskly together, and the long line wound along the narrow path through the forests. they started out cheerily enough, enlivening the work with songs and jests; but at the end of the first mile all were glad enough to throw down the load, and loiter a while by the roadside. a few minutes' rest, and up and on again. now arms began to ache, and shoulders to chafe, under the unusual burden; but the march continued until noon of the next day, when the footsore and weary carriers marched proudly into sackett's harbor, to find sailors and soldiers assembled to greet them with bands and cannon-firing. in accordance with the custom of the time, these demonstrations of honor were supplemented by the opening of a barrel of whiskey, in honor of the arrival of the cable. this incident, trivial in itself, is typical of that ingenuity and fertility of resource, which, more than any thing else, contributed to the success of the americans, not only in the lake operations of the war of , but in every war the nation has since undertaken. but the advantages gained by yankee enterprise and ingenuity were, perhaps, more evident in the operations on lake ontario and lake erie than in the operations of the armies, or of the fleets upon the ocean. the great contest lay more in the rapid building of ships than in fighting them. at the outset the enemy were better equipped for the struggle than were the americans. the canadian frontier had been longer settled, and could lend more men to the needs of the nation. more than this, the route to the ocean by the st. lawrence river made it really easier to transport naval stores from far-off liverpool to the british naval station on the shores of lake ontario, than to carry like goods across the wooded hills of new york. nor were the british altogether without naval resources upon the lakes at the hour when war was declared. on lake erie the english flag waved over the "royal george," twenty-two; "prince regent," sixteen; "earl of moira," fourteen; "gloucester," ten; "seneca," eight; and "simcoe," eight. opposed to this squadron was but one united states vessel,--the "oneida," a man-of-war brig carrying sixteen twenty-four-pound carronades. on lake erie the british had a squadron of six vessels, carrying in all forty-six guns. hostilities opened early on lake ontario. for some time before the formal declaration of war, a desultory warfare had been waged by the americans and canadians about niagara. canadian schooners had been seized on account of alleged violations of the revenue and embargo regulations of the united states. the resentment of the sufferers was aroused, and they only awaited a suitable opportunity to retaliate. the opportunity soon came, in the form of the declaration of war; and a body of canadian volunteers attacked eight american schooners, near the thousand isles, and burned two of them. with the opening of the war, the united states authorities had fixed upon sackett's harbor as the naval station for lake ontario. in the harbor, on the th of july, , lay the "oneida," which had lately come into port after a short cruise in search of british schooners. at early dawn of the day mentioned, the lookout reported five ships in the offing, and a few minutes later hailed the deck, to report them to be british ships-of-war. the alarm quickly spread over the little town. puny though the british fleet would have appeared upon the ocean, it was of ample power to take the "oneida" and destroy the village. before the villagers fairly understood their peril, a small boat came scudding into the harbor before the wind. it bore a message from the british commander, demanding that the "oneida" and the "lord nelson" (a captured canadian vessel) be surrendered. should the squadron be resisted, he warned the inhabitants that their town should be burned to the ground. commander woolsey, who commanded the "oneida," was a united states officer of the regular service, and a man of courage and fertility of resource. unable to take his vessel out into the lake, he moored her at the entrance of the harbor in such a way that her broadside of nine guns might be brought to bear on the enemy. all hands then set to work getting the other broadside battery ashore; and, by the aid of the villagers, these guns were mounted on a hastily thrown up redoubt on the shore. at the foot of the main street of the village was planted a queerly assorted battery. the great gun, on which the hopes of the americans centred, was an iron thirty-two-pounder, which had lain for years deeply embedded in the muddy ooze of the lake-shore, gaining thereby the derisive name of the "old sow." this redoubtable piece of ordnance was flanked on either side by a brass six-pounder; a pair of cannon that the yankee sailors had, with infinite pains and indomitable perseverance, dredged up from the sunken hulk of a british war-vessel that had filled a watery grave some years. two brass nine-pounders completed this novel armament. it was about eight o'clock in the morning when the british vessels came up within range. alarm guns had been firing from the shore all the morning; and by that time the village was filled with militiamen, who flocked to the scene of action. woolsey, who had taken charge of the shore-batteries, ordered a shot from the thirty-two pounder. the "old sow" spoke out bravely, but the shot missing, only roused the enemy to laughter, which could be heard on shore. the british vessels then began a vigorous cannonade, keeping well out of range of the small guns on shore; although so weak were the american defences, that a vigorous onslaught by the enemy would have quickly reduced the town to submission. as it was, a harmless fire was kept up for about two hours. not a shot took effect, and nothing save the noise and excitement of the cannonading need have deterred the good people of sackett's harbor from observing that sunday morning in accordance with their usual sabbath customs. it was reserved for one shot to put an end to this strange engagement. just as the artillerists who served the iron thirty-two pounder were loading the gun, a cannon-ball struck the ground near the battery. one of the americans ran, and, picking up the spent ball, brought it into the battery, saying, "i've been playing ball with the redcoats, and have caught them out. let's see now if they can catch back again." so saying, he rammed the missile down the muzzle of the long thirty-two, and sent it back with deadly aim. the captured ball crashed into the stern of the "royal george," raked her from stem to stern, killing fourteen men, and wounding eighteen in its course. the marksman, watching the course of his shot, saw the splinters fly from the deck of the british ship; and the americans cheered loudly for the "old sow" as the british squadron put about, and left the sackett's harbor people to celebrate their easily won victory. insignificant though this engagement was, it was the chief battle of the year on lake ontario. the americans strained every nerve to put more armed vessels afloat, and, being left unmolested by the british, managed to have quite a flotilla in commission before winter set its icy seal upon the lake. in september, capt. isaac chauncey was appointed commander-in-chief of the lake navy; and, on his arrival, he proved himself the very man for the place. he rushed ahead the building of new ships, arranged for the transportation of seamen from the seacoast to man the vessels on the lakes, and then, not content with attending only to the building of the ships, took command of the squadron in commission, and fairly swept the lake clear of the enemy's vessels. he met with little opposition as the british retired to their naval station at kingston, remaining there until all further naval operations were checked by the ice. winter, which seriously impeded the work of the british by putting an end to navigation upon the st. lawrence, did away with many of the difficulties of transportation which had so hampered the americans. the roads to the seacoast grew hard, and were soon covered with snow, over which long teams of oxen plodded to and fro until the path was well broken. then began the hauling of supplies from the seaboard. from his post at sackett's harbor, chauncey sent out requisitions for ship-timber, cordage, ordnance, and ship-carpenters. long trains of heavily laden wagons and sledges wound their way across the state from new york or albany to the station at sackett's harbor. agents were appointed in the seacoast towns to enlist seamen for service on the lakes,--a work that required no small powers of persuasion; for the true salt-water jack looks with great disfavor upon the "fish-ponds" of fresh water. but, by dint of munificent offers of bounties and prize-money, several hundred sailors were induced to leave their ships on the ocean, and take service in the infant navy of the lakes. most of the sailors were sent across the state in the dead of winter. the trip was made in huge sleds, drawn by several pairs of horses, and carrying a score or more men each. the jackies enlivened the journey with rollicking songs and stories as the sleds sped over the well-packed roads through the sparsely settled country. one of the largest parties was accompanied by a brass band, with the aid of which the sailors made their entrance to the villages along the road in truly royal style. the sleighs and horses were gayly decked with the national colors. the band led in the first sleigh, closely followed by three other sledges, filled with blue-coated men. before the little tavern of the town the _cortége_ usually came to a halt; and the tars, descending, followed up their regulation cheers with demands for grog and provender. after a halt of an hour or two, the party continued its way, followed by the admiration of every villager, and the envy of every boy large enough to have seafaring ambitions. with all his energy and unswerving fidelity to the cause of his country, chauncey probably did nothing of more direct benefit to the united states than writing a letter to a young naval officer, then stationed at newport, asking him to come west and take charge of the naval operations on lake erie. the name of this young officer was oliver hazard perry, and a year later no name in american history carried with it more fame. hostilities on lake erie had been unimportant up to the time that chauncey sent for perry. the americans had no naval vessel to oppose to the fleet of canadian craft that held the lake. one war-vessel only had shown the american flag on the lake; and she had been fitted out by the army, and had fallen into the hands of the enemy at the surrender of detroit. but this prize was not destined to remain long in the hands of the canadians. early in the autumn of , chauncey had sent lieut. elliott to lake erie, with instructions to begin at once the creation of a fleet by building or purchasing vessels. elliott chose as the site of his improvised navy-yard black rock, a point two miles below buffalo; and there pushed ahead his work in a way that soon convinced the enemy, that, unless the young officer's energy received a check, british supremacy on lake erie would soon be at an end. accordingly, two armed brigs, the "caledonia" and the "detroit," recently captured by the british, came down to put an end to the yankee ship-building. like most of the enemy's vessels on the lakes, these two brigs were manned by canadians, and had not even the advantage of a regular naval commander. on the morning of the th of october, the sentries on the river-side at black rock discovered the two british vessels lying at anchor under the guns of fort erie, a british work on the opposite side of the niagara river, that there flows placidly along, a stream more than a mile wide. zealous for distinction, and determined to checkmate the enemy in their design, elliott resolved to undertake the task of cutting out the two vessels from beneath the guns of the british fort. fortune favored his enterprise. it happened that on that very day a detachment of sailors from the ocean had arrived at black rock. though wearied by their long overland journey, the jackies were ready for the adventure, but had no weapons. in this dilemma elliott was forced to turn for aid to the military authorities, from whom he obtained pistols, swords, and sabres enough to fit out his sailors for the fray. with the arms came a number of soldiers and a small party of adventurous citizens, all of whom enlisted under the leadership of the adventurous elliott. in planning the expedition, the great difficulty lay in getting rid of the too numerous volunteers. by nightfall, the preparations for the expedition were completed. in the underbrush that hung over the banks of the river, two large boats were concealed, ready for the embarkation. at midnight fifty men, armed to the teeth, silently took their places in each of the great barges, and pushed out upon the black surface of the river. all along the bank were crowds of eager watchers, who discussed the chances of success with bated breath, lest the merest whisper should alarm the british sentries on the farther shore. with steady strokes of the muffled oars, the two boats made their way toward the two brigs that could just be seen outlined against the sky. elliott, in the first boat, directed the movements of his men, and restrained the too enthusiastic. so stealthy was the approach, that the foremost boat was fairly alongside of the "detroit" before the british took the alarm. then the quick hail of the sentry brought an answering pistol-shot from elliott; and, amid volleys of musketry, the assailants clambered up the sides of the brigs, and with pistol and cutlass drove the startled crew below. so complete was the surprise, that the british made but little resistance; and the cables of the brigs were cut, sails spread, and the vessels under way, before the thunder of a gun from fort erie told that the british on shore had taken the alarm. at the report of the first shot fired, the dark line of the american shore suddenly blazed bright with huge beacon fires, while lanterns and torches were waved from commanding points to guide the adventurous sailors in their navigation of the captured brigs. but the victors were not to escape unscathed with their booty. the noise of the conflict, and the shouts of the americans on the distant bank of the river, roused the british officers in the fort, and the guns were soon trained on the receding vessels. some field-batteries galloped along the bank, and soon had their guns in a position whence they could pour a deadly fire upon the americans. nor did the spectators on the new york side of the river escape unharmed; for the first shot, fired by the field-battery missed the brigs, but crossed the river and struck down an american officer. almost unmanageable in the swift current and light wind, the two brigs seemed for a time in danger of recapture. the "caledonia" was run ashore under the guns of an american battery; but the "detroit," after being relieved of the prisoners, and deserted by her captors, was beached at a point within range of the enemy's fire. the british made several determined attempts to recapture her, but were beaten off; and, after a day's fighting around the vessel, she was set on fire and burned to the water's edge. the "caledonia," however, remained to the americans, and some months later did good service against her former owners. it was shortly after this occurrence that lieut. perry offered his services for the lakes; and four months later he received a letter from chauncey, saying, "you are the very person that i want for a particular service, in which you may gain reputation for yourself, and honor for your country." this letter was quickly followed by orders from the secretary of the navy to report at once for duty to chauncey at sackett's harbor. perry was overjoyed. the dull monotony of his duties at newport suited little his ardent nature. he longed for active service, and an opportunity to win distinction. his opportunity had at last come; and twenty hours after the receipt of his orders, he and his thirteen-year-old brother were seated in a sleigh and fairly started on the long drive across the country. travelling was a serious matter in those days, and the journey from newport to sackett's harbor required twelve days. on his arrival, perry found that the special service for which he was needed was the command of a naval force on lake erie. he stopped but a short time at sackett's harbor, and then pressed on to erie, the base of the naval operations on the lake of the same name. it was late in march when perry arrived; and the signs of spring already showed that soon the lake would be clear of ice, and the struggle for its control recommence. the young lieutenant was indefatigable in the labor of preparation. he urged on the building of vessels already begun. he arranged for the purchase of merchant schooners, and their conversion into gunboats. he went to pittsburg for supplies, and made a flying trip to buffalo to join chauncey in an attack upon fort george at the mouth of the niagara river. all the time, he managed to keep up a constant fire of letters to the secretary of the navy and to chauncey, begging for more sailors. by summertime, he had five vessels ready for service, but no men to man them. the enemy blockaded him, and he dared not accept the challenge. in july he wrote to chauncey: "the enemy's fleet of six sail are now off the bar of this harbor. what a golden opportunity if we had men!... give me men, sir, and i will acquire both for you and myself honor and glory on this lake, or perish in the attempt." again he wrote: "for god's sake, and yours and mine, send me men and officers; and i will have them all [the british squadron] in a day or two." when the men finally did arrive, he was much disgusted with their appearance, pronouncing them to be "a motley set,--blacks, soldiers, and boys." nevertheless, this same motley crew, headed by the critical young officer, won a victory that effectually crushed the pretensions of the enemy to the control of lake erie. [illustration: perry's recruits.] his crews having arrived, perry was anxious to get out upon the lake, and engage the enemy at once. but this course of action was for a long time impossible. the flotilla lay snugly anchored within the harbor of erie, the entrance to which was closed by a bar. to cross this bar, the ships would have been obliged to send all heavy ordnance ashore; and, as the enemy kept close watch outside the harbor, the american fleet was practically blockaded. for several weeks the americans were thus kept prisoners, grumbling mightily at their enforced inaction, and longing for a chance to get at the enemy. one morning in august word was brought to perry that the blockading fleet had disappeared. instantly all was life and bustle in the harbor. the crews of all the vessels were ordered aboard; and the flotilla dropped down to the bar, intending to cross early in the morning. at dawn the movement was begun. the schooners and other small craft were easily taken outside; but, when it came to the turn of the two gun-brigs, "lawrence" and "niagara," it became evident that mechanical assistance was required. accordingly, a powerful "camel" was hastily improvised, by the aid of which the two vessels were dragged across the bar. hardly had the second brig made the passage in safety, when the british fleet appeared in the offing. tradition says that the opportune absence of the enemy's fleet was caused by a public banquet to which the citizens of port dover had invited commodore barclay and his officers. while the dinner was going merrily on, the americans were hard at work, escaping from the trap in which the british had left them. in responding to a toast at the banquet, barclay said, "i expect to find the yankee brigs hard and fast on the bar at erie when i return, in which predicament it will be but a small job to destroy them." his anticipations were not realized; for, on his arrival, he found the entire squadron safely floating in the deep water outside the bar. had barclay but known it, he would even then have found it "but a small job to destroy them;" for the two brigs, having been stripped of their ordnance, would have been easy prey for the british squadron. but perry's bold action in sending forward two schooners to engage the enemy seemed to alarm the too prudent commodore; and the british bore away, and were soon out of sight. by night perry's flotilla was in readiness for cruising, and set out immediately in pursuit of the foe. barclay seemed to avoid the conflict; and, after some weeks' cruising, the americans cast anchor at put-in-bay, and awaited there the appearance of the enemy. the little flotilla that lay anchored on the placid waters of the picturesque bay consisted of nine vessels, ranging in size from the "trippe," a puny sloop carrying one gun, to the "lawrence" and "niagara," brigs carrying each two long twelves and eighteen short thirty-twos. no very formidable armada was that of a handful of pygmy vessels, commanded by a young officer who had never heard the thunderous cannonade of a naval battle, or seen the decks of his ships stained with the blood of friends and daily companions. yet the work of the little squadron saved the united states from invasion, won for the young commander a never-dying fame, and clothed the vine-clad hills, the pebbly beaches, and the crystal waters of put-in-bay with a wealth of proud, historical associations. [illustration: drilling the raw recruits.] day after day the vessels lay idly at their anchorage, and the sailors grew restless at the long inactivity. perry alone was patient; for to him had come the knowledge that the hostile fleet was getting short of supplies, and would soon be starved out of its retreat at malden. knowing this, he spared no pains to get his men into training for the coming conflict. they were exercised daily at the great guns, and put through severe drills in the use of the cutlass, in boarding, and repelling boarders. by constant drill and severe discipline, perry had made of the motley crew sent him a well-drilled body of seamen, every man of whom had become fired with the enthusiasm of his commander. as the time passed, and the day of battle drew nearer, perry's confidence in his men increased; and he looked upon the coming conflict as one certain to bring glory to his country. at early dawn the jackies on the ships could see the slender form of their commander perched upon the craggy heights of one of the islands, called to this day "perry's lookout," eagerly scanning the horizon in the direction of malden. on the night of sept. , , the commodore felt convinced that on the next day the british would come out to battle. accordingly, a conference of captains was called in the cabin of the flag-ship, and each received directions as to his course of action during the fight. they were urged to force the fighting to close quarters. said perry, "nelson has expressed my idea in the words, 'if you lay your enemy alongside, you cannot be out of your place.'" as the officers were about to depart, perry drew from a locker a large, square blue flag, on which appeared, in white letters, the dying words of the gallant lawrence, "don't give up the ship!" "this," said perry, "shall be the signal for action; and when it appears at the masthead, remember your instructions." the conference then ended; and the captains returned to their ships across the bay, silvered by the light of the moon, to spend the greater part of the night in preparations for the great danger of the coming day. morning dawned bright and clear, with a light breeze blowing, that broke into ripples the surface of the land-locked bay. the rosy light of the rising sun was just reddening the eastern horizon, when, from the lookout in the foretop of the "lawrence," came the long-drawn hail of "sail, ho!" quickly repeated from the other vessels. perry was already on deck. "what does it look like?" he shouted to the lookout. "a clump of square rigged, and fore and afters, sir," was the response. in a few minutes the signals "enemy in sight," and "get under way," were flying from the masthead of the flag-ship; and the merry piping of the boatswains' whistles, and the measured tramp of the sailors around the capstans, told that signals were observed, and were being obeyed. the fleet was soon threading its way through the narrow channels, filled with islands, at the entrance to the bay, and finally came into line on the open lake. not a cloud was in the sky. the lake was calm, with enough wind blowing to admit of manoeuvring, yet gentle enough to be of advantage to the schooners that made up the greater part of each fleet. for some time the americans held back, manoeuvring to get the weather-gauge; but perry's impatience for the fray got the better of his caution, and he determined to close at once. his first officer remonstrated, saying, "then you'll have to engage the enemy to leeward." "i don't care," responded the commodore. "leeward or windward, they shall fight to-day." then, turning to the quartermaster, he called for the battle-flag, which being brought, he mustered the crew aft, and addressed them briefly, telling them of the task before them, and urging them to fight bravely for the victory. "my brave lads," he concluded, "this flag bears the last words of capt. lawrence. shall i hoist it?" "ay, ay, sir!" cried the jackies, in unison; and, as the flag was swiftly run to the masthead, the cheers of the sailors on the deck of the "lawrence" were echoed from the neighboring vessels, as the white letters showed boldly against the blue flag, bearing to each commander the exhortation, "don't give up the ship!" the battle-signal being thus displayed, the vessels moved onward to the attack. as the crew of the "lawrence" stood at their guns, the cooks passed along the decks, handing to each man a bit of food, that his strength might not leave him in the coming struggle. then followed boys with boxes of sand, which they strewed upon the decks, to afford a firm foothold for the men at the guns. the hammocks were stowed along the nettings, to serve as some little protection against flying shot. the men stood silent and pale at their quarters, each occupied with his own grave thoughts, but all determined to fight like brave men and true for the honor of the flag. by perry's side stood his brother, a boy thirteen years old, armed and ready to do his duty as well as the older men. the british came on gallantly. barclay had lost all his diffidence, and brought up his vessels like a veteran. his ships were kept close together; the ship "detroit" under short sail, that the pygmy sloop "little belt" might not be left in the rear. the americans came down in single file, headed by the schooner "scorpion." suddenly through the still air rang out the sharp notes of a bugle-call on the enemy's flag-ship. it was the signal for action; and, as the last notes died away, the bands struck up "rule, britannia." the americans answered with cheers; and in the midst of the cheering, a jet of smoke and fire spurted from the side of the "detroit," and a heavy shot splashed into the water near the "lawrence," while a dull, heavy report came booming over the water. the battle was opened, but five minutes elapsed before a second shot was fired. when it did come, it crashed through the bulwarks of the "lawrence," and sped across her deck, doing no great damage. "steady, lads, steady," cried perry, from his post on the quarter-deck, as he saw an uneasy stir among his men, who longed to return the fire. the commodore was determined to fight at close quarters, and hung out signals for each ship to choose its antagonist, and fight the fight out for itself. it was then high noon, and the battle soon became general. the little schooners "scorpion" and "ariel" pluckily kept their place in the van of the american line, but the fire of the enemy fell most fiercely upon the flag-ship "lawrence." no less than four vessels at one time were grouped about the "lawrence," pouring in a destructive fire, and bent upon destroying the flag-ship and her brave commander; then taking the smaller vessels in detail. the "lawrence" fought bravely, but the odds were too great. the carronades with which she was armed were no match for the long guns of her adversaries. for two hours the unequal combat raged, and no american vessel came to the aid of the sorely smitten flag-ship. amid the hail of cannon-balls and bullets, perry seemed to bear a charmed life. he saw his officers and men falling all about him. john brooks, the lieutenant of marines, fought by the commodore's side. while speaking cheerfully to the commodore, a cannon-ball struck the young lieutenant on the hip, dashing him across the deck against the bulwark, and mutilating him so, that he plead piteously with perry, imploring that he might be put out of his misery with a pistol-shot. from this awful spectacle perry turned to speak to the captain of a gun, when the conversation was abruptly cut short by a shot which killed the seaman instantly. perry returned to the quarter-deck. the first lieutenant came rushing up, his face bloody, and his nose swelled to an enormous size from a splinter which had perforated it. "all the officers in my division are killed," he cried. "for god's sake, give me more!" perry sent some men to his aid; but they soon fell, and the cry for more men arose again. one of the surgeons who served in the cock-pit on that dreadful day states, that, in the midst of the roar of battle, perry's voice was heard calling down the hatchway, and asking any surgeon's mates who could be spared, to come on deck and help work the guns. several went up; but the appeal was soon repeated, and more responded. when no more men could be obtained, the voice of the commodore took a pleading tone. "can any of the wounded pull a rope?" said he; and such was his ascendency over the men, that several poor mangled fellows dragged themselves on deck, and lent their feeble strength to the working of the guns. [illustration: commodore perry at the battle of lake erie.] amid all the carnage, the sailors were quick to notice the lighter incidents of the fray. even the cock-pit, filled with the wounded, and reeking with blood that dripped through the cracks in the deck above, once resounded with laughter as hearty as ever greeted a middy's after-dinner joke in the steerage. lieut. yarnall received a bad scalp-wound, which fairly drenched his face with blood. as he groped his way towards the cock-pit he passed a lot of hammocks stuffed with "cat-tails" which had been stowed on the bulwarks. the feathery down of the "cat-tails" filled the air, and settled thick upon the head and face of the officer, robbing his countenance of all semblance to a human face. as he descended the ladder to the cock-pit, his owl-like air roused the wounded to great shouts of laughter. "the devil has come among us," they cried. [illustration: perry's victory--the battle of lake erie. september , copyright, , by c. klackner.] while talking to his little brother, perry to his horror saw the lad fall at his feet, dashed to the deck by an unseen missile. the commodore's agony may be imagined; but it was soon assuaged, for the boy was only stunned, and was soon fighting again at his post. the second lieutenant was struck by a spent grape-shot, and fell stunned upon the deck. he lay there for a time, unnoticed. perry raised him up, telling him he was not hurt, as no blood could be seen. the lieutenant put his hand to his clothing, at the point where the blow had fallen, and discovered the shot lodged in his coat. coolly putting it in his pocket, he remarked, "you are right: i am not hurt. but this is my shot," and forthwith returned to his duty. it was a strange-looking body of men that fought at the guns of the "lawrence." lean, angular yankee sailors from the seafaring communities of new england stood by the side of swarthy negroes, who, with their half-naked black bodies, in the dense powder-smoke, seemed like fiends in pandemonium. in the rigging were stationed a number of kentucky riflemen, who had volunteered to serve during the battle. the buckskin shirts and leggings gave an air of incongruity to their presence on a man-of-war. their unerring rifles, however, did brave service for the cause of the stars and stripes. at the opening of the action, two tall indians, decked in all the savage finery of war-paint and feathers, strode the deck proudly. but water is not the indian's element, and the battle had hardly begun when one fled below in terror; the other remained on deck, and was killed early in the action. [illustration: making ready to leave the "lawrence."] courageous and self-confident though the american commander was, the moment came when he could no longer disguise the fact that his gallant flag-ship was doomed to destruction before the continuous and deadly fire of her adversaries. there was but one course of action open, and upon this he determined at once. he would transfer his flag to the "niagara," and from the deck of that vessel direct the movements of his fleet. accordingly, the only uninjured boat of the "lawrence" was lowered; and perry sprang into the stern, followed by his little brother. before the boat pushed off, the battle-flag was thrown into her; and, wrapping it about him, perry took a standing position in the stern, and ordered the oarsmen to give way. he steered straight for the "niagara," through the very centre of the fight. the enemy quickly grasped the purpose of the movement, and great guns and muskets were trained on the little boat. shot of all sizes splashed in the water about the boat, splintered the oars, and buried themselves in the gunwale. the crew begged their commander to sit down, and make himself a less conspicuous target for the fire of the enemy; but perry paid but little attention to their entreaties. suddenly the men rested on the oars, and the boat stopped. angrily the commodore demanded the cause of the stoppage, and was told that the men refused to row unless he sat down. with a smile he yielded, and soon the boat was alongside the "niagara." perry sprang to the deck, followed by his boat's crew and a plucky sailor who had swum just behind the boat across the long stretch of water. hardly a glance did the commodore cast at the ship which he had left, but bent all his faculties to taking the new flag-ship into the battle. the "niagara" was practically a fresh ship; for, up to this time, she had held strangely aloof from the battle. now all was to be changed. the battle-flag went to her masthead; and she plunged into the thick of the fight, striking thunderous blows at every ship she encountered. as she passed the american lines, the sailors greeted with cheers their gallant commander. the crippled "lawrence," an almost helpless hulk, left far behind, was forced to strike her flag; although her crew protested loudly, crying out, "sink the ship, and let us go down with her." but the conquered vessel was not destined to fall into the hands of her enemies. already the sight of their commodore on a fresh vessel stimulated the american tars; so that in half an hour the british line was broken, their ships cut to pieces, and the "detroit," their flag-ship, a prize to the "niagara." a white handkerchief was waved at the end of a pike by one of the crew of the "princess charlotte." the firing stopped, the flag was again run up to the masthead of the "lawrence," while a few feeble cheers came faintly over the water from the remnant of her crew. the dense clouds of smoke blowing away, perry saw, by the disposition of his squadron, that the victory was secure. hastily catching off his navy-cap, he laid upon it a sheet of paper torn from an old letter, and wrote to gen. harrison the famous despatch, "_we have met the enemy, and they are ours,--two ships, two brigs, one schooner, and one sloop._" then, with true chivalry, he determined that to his flag-ship "lawrence," that had so stoutly borne the brunt of battle, should belong the honor of receiving the british captains, when they came to surrender their vessels. he returned to the "lawrence;" but the scene there was such that even the excitement of victory could raise no feelings of exultation in his breast. he saw on every side the bodies of officers with whom, but the night before, he had dined in perfect health. the decks were red with blood, and from the cock-pit arose the groans of the wounded. after the formal surrender, to make which the officers picked their way over the deck covered with slain to the quarter-deck, the work of burying the dead of both squadrons was begun. it was about sundown that the sad ceremonies were held; and, as the deep tones of the chaplains reading the burial service arose upon the evening air, the dull, mournful splashing of heavy bodies in the water told that the last scene in the great victory was drawing to an end. chapter viii. on the ocean. -- the "hornet" sinks the "peacock." -- the blockade. -- adventures of the "sally." -- hostilities on chesapeake bay. -- the cruise of the "president." the year , that brought to american sailors upon the lakes such well-earned laurels, opened auspiciously for the stars and stripes upon the ocean. it will be remembered that the "constitution," while on the cruise in the south atlantic that ended with the destruction of the "java," had left the "hornet" off san salvador, blockading the british ship "bonne citoyenne." for eighteen days the "hornet" remained at her post. her captain continually urged the enemy to come out and give him battle, but to no avail. the remembrance of his valuable cargo deterred the englishman, and he remained snug in his harbor. months after, when the occurrence became known in the united states, an unreasoning outcry was raised against the commander of the "bonne citoyenne" for thus avoiding the conflict; but naval men have always agreed that his action was wise and commendable. after eighteen days' service on this blockade, the "hornet" saw a british seventy-four bearing down upon her, bent upon releasing the treasure-ship. against such odds it would have been folly to contend; and the americans, taking advantage of a dark night, slipped away, and were soon beyond pursuit. the vessel continued her cruise in the waters south of the equator, meeting with good fortune, and taking many valuable prizes, from one of which twenty-three thousand dollars in specie were taken. but her cruise was not destined to proceed without serious opposition. on the th of february, as the "hornet" was giving close chase to a suspicious brig near the mouth of the demarara river, a second stranger was sighted in the offing. giving no heed to the newly sighted vessel, the "hornet" continued her chase until the rapidly approaching vessel was clearly made out to be a brig, flying the british flag, and evidently a man-of-war. the "hornet" was immediately cleared for action; and the two hostile vessels began manoeuvring for the weather-gage, as two scientific pugilists spar cautiously for an opening. in this contest of seamanship, capt. lawrence of the "hornet" proved the victor; and a little after five o'clock in the afternoon, the two enemies stood for each other upon the wind, the "hornet" having the weather-gage. as they rapidly neared each other, no sound was heard save the creaking of the cordage, and the dashing of the waves against the vessels' hulls. not a shot was fired until the enemies were dashing past each other, going in opposite directions. the first broadsides were exchanged at half pistol-shot, with very unequal effects. the shot of the "hornet" penetrated the hull of her antagonist, doing terrible execution; while the broadside let fly by the "peacock" whistled through the rigging of the american ship, cutting away the pennant, and killing a topman, who was struck by a round shot, and dashed from his station in the mizzen-top, to fall mangled and lifeless into the sea. hardly were the ships clear, when the british captain put his helm hard up,--a manoeuvre executed with the intention of securing a raking position. but the plan was balked by the cool seamanship of capt. lawrence, who quickly followed up the british vessel, and, getting a position on his quarter, poured in so rapid and accurate a fire that the enemy was fain to haul down his colors and confess defeat. the british ensign had hardly touched the deck, when it was run up again, with the union down, as a token of distress. at this sight, the yankee tars, who had been cheering lustily over their quickly won victory, stopped their rejoicings, and set about giving assistance to the injured britons with as hearty good-will as they had lately shown in their vigorous cannonade. with all possible despatch, a boat was lowered, and lieut. shubrick proceeded on board the prize. he found the "peacock" a complete wreck. shortly after the surrender her main-mast had gone by the board, and her hull was fairly honeycombed with shot-holes. returning to his ship, shubrick reported the condition of the prize. he was immediately ordered to return to the "peacock," and make every effort to save her. accompanied by three boats' crews of american sailors, he again boarded the sinking ship, and bent every energy to the attempt for her salvation. bulwarks were cut away, and the heavy guns were rolled out of the gaps thus made, and cast into the sea. deep down in the hold, and swinging like spiders over the sides of the vessels, sailors tried to stop up with felt-covered blocks of wood the great holes through which the water was pouring. all the time boats were plying between the sinking vessel and the "hornet," transferring the wounded and the prisoners. twilight fell before the work was ended, and it became evident to all that the "peacock" must sink during the night. but the end came even quicker than had been expected. some new rent must have opened in the brig's side; for, with a sudden lurch, she commenced to sink rapidly, bow foremost. several of the english crew were below, searching for liquor; and, caught by the inpouring flood, they found a watery grave in the sinking hulk. three americans were also ingulfed; and five narrowly escaped death by climbing up the rigging to the foretop, which remained above water when the hull rested upon the bottom. in the midst of the excitement and confusion, four british seamen slyly clambered out of the cabin-windows, and, dropping into a boat that was made fast to the stern, made off in the darkness. the americans, eagerly watching the sinking ship, did not detect the fugitives until the boat was far beyond the possibility of recapture. the vessel so quickly destroyed by the "hornet" was the british man-of-war brig "peacock," mounting ten guns, and carrying a crew of two hundred and ten men. in one respect, she was a model ship. among naval men, she had long been known as "the yacht," on account of the appearance of exquisite neatness she always presented. her decks were as white as lime-juice and constant holystoning could keep them. the brasswork about the cabins and the breeches of the guns was dazzling in its brilliancy. white canvas lined the breechings of the carronades. her decks everywhere showed signs of constant toil in the cause of cleanliness. the result of the battle, however, seemed to indicate that capt. peakes had erred, in that, while his ship was perfect, his men were bad marksmen, and poorly disciplined. while their shot were harmlessly passing through the rigging of the "hornet," the americans were pouring in well-directed broadsides, that killed and wounded thirty-eight men, and ended the action in fifteen minutes. the americans lost but one man in the fight, though three more went down in the sinking prize. capt. lawrence now found himself far from home, short of water, and crowded with prisoners. for a time, he feared that to these evils was to be added a second action, while his crew was still fatigued with the labors of the first. during the battle with the "peacock," a second british man-of-war brig, the "espiègle," lay quietly at anchor only four miles away. why she had not joined in the strife, has never been explained. she was clearly visible from the tops of the "hornet" throughout the action, and lawrence expected every moment to see her bear down to the assistance of her consort. but she made no movement; and even after the fight ended, and the "peacock" lay on the bottom of the ocean, the mysterious stranger awoke not from her lethargy. not wishing to engage a second adversary while his ship was crowded with prisoners, lawrence immediately left the scene of action, and laid his course for home. the homeward voyage was rapid and uneventful. no pains were spared to secure the comfort of the prisoners who crowded the ship. the british officers were treated with the greatest consideration; so that, as one said on quitting the ship, they "ceased to consider themselves as captives." the tars, who were consigned to the care of the blue-jackets in the forecastle, were met with less courtesy, but certainly with no less good feeling. they were not spared an occasional taunt or triumphant joke; but when it was learned that by the sinking of their ship the britons had lost all their "toggery," the "hornet's" lads turned to, and soon collected clothing enough to fit out each prisoner with a respectable kit. it was the middle of march before the long, homeward voyage was ended, and the anchor was dropped in the snug harbor of holmes's hole in the island of martha's vineyard. the usual rejoicings followed the news of the victory. lawrence was the hero of the hour; and songs innumerable appeared in the newspapers, extolling the courage and devotion of the brave lads of the "hornet." indeed, the arrival of the "hornet" with her glorious news came at an opportune moment, to cheer the spirits of the american people. the war had begun to assume a serious aspect. continued reverses on the ocean had roused the british ministry to the fact that they were dealing with no contemptible enemy, and the word had gone forth that the americans must be crushed into submission. troops were hurriedly sent to canada, and all the vessels that could be spared were ordered to the coast of the united states. the english had determined upon that most effective of all hostile measures,--a rigorous blockade of their enemy's coast. up and down the coast from new jersey to the carolinas, british frigates and sloops kept up a constant patrol. chesapeake bay was their chief rendezvous; and the exploits of the blockading squadron stationed there, under admiral cockburn, led often to scenes more befitting savage warfare then the hostilities of two enlightened and civilized peoples. on the new england coast, the blockade was less severely enforced. the people of that section had been loud in their denunciations of the war; and the british hoped, by a display of moderation, to seduce the new englanders from their allegiance to the united states,--a hope that failed utterly of fulfilment. even had the british desired to enforce the blockade along the new england shore, the character of the coast, and the skill and shrewdness of the yankee skippers, would have made the task of the blockaders a most difficult one. the annals of the little seafaring-villages along the coast of maine and massachusetts abound in anecdotes of hardy skippers who outwitted the watchful british, and ran their little schooners or sloops into port under the very guns of a blockading man-of-war. among the blockade-runners of the new england coast, capt. dan fernald of portsmouth stood foremost. when a shipload of maine timber was needed at the portsmouth navy-yard, to be converted into a new man-of-war, to capt. fernald was assigned the task of bringing it down from portland past the british frigates, that were ever on the watch for just such cargoes. when the preparations for the building of the seventy-four-gun ship "washington" were making at the navy-yard, capt. fernald was sent to portsmouth for a load of ship's-timber. his cargo was to consist of forty-eight "knees" and the breast-hook of the seventy-four. loaded down with this burden, the schooner "sally" left portland, and headed for her destination. caution led her captain to keep his craft close to the shore, and for a day or two she crept along the coast without being discovered. but head-winds and calms delayed the "sally," and on her fourth day out she was sighted by the british frigate "tenedos." the "sally" was not an imposing craft, and under ordinary circumstances she might have been allowed to proceed unmolested; but on this occasion a number of the oaken knees for the new war-vessel were piled on the deck, and the british captain could clearly make out, through his glasses, that the "sally" was laden with contraband of war. accordingly, he set out in hot pursuit, in the full expectation of overhauling the audacious coaster. capt. fernald, however, had no idea of letting his schooner fall into the hands of the british. he was a wily old skipper, and knew every nook and corner of the maine and new hampshire coasts better than he knew the streets of his native village. apparently unmoved by the pursuit of the man-of-war, he stood at the tiller, and, beyond ordering his crew to shake out the reefs in the sails, seemed to make no great attempt to elude the enemy. but soon the crew noticed that the skipper was taking his schooner rather dangerously close to the shore; and a cry came from a sailor on the bow, that the "sally" was ploughing through the kelp, and would soon be on the rocks. "no matter," sung out the captain; "just heave over a few of them knees, and i guess she'll float clear." overboard went a dozen heavy timbers, and the "sally" sailed smoothly on over the rocks. then the captain glanced back over his shoulder, and chuckled slyly as the majestic frigate, following closely in his track, brought up all of a sudden on the rocks, and was quickly left a fixture by the receding tide. the exasperated englishman sent two eighteen-pound shot skipping over the water after the "sally," but without effect. one shot buried itself in the sand of the beach; and capt. fernald, after picking up the knees that had been thrown overboard, coolly went ashore, dug up the ball, and carried it away as a trophy. he reached his moorings at the navy-yard safely, and was warmly greeted by commodore hull, who asked if the "sally" had been fired upon; and, on being presented with the eighteen-pound shot for a token, exclaimed, "you are a good fellow, and stand fire well." the "tenedos" came not so luckily out of the adventure. by the time a flood tide lifted her clear of the reef, the jagged points of the rocks had pierced her hull, so that she leaked badly, and was forced to go to halifax for repairs. one more adventure in which the "sally" and her wily captain figured is worth recounting. again the dingy schooner was edging her way along the rugged shore, bound for the portsmouth navy-yard. no vessel could have seemed more harmless. her patched and dirty canvas was held in place by oft-spliced ropes and rigging none too taut. her bluff bows butted away the waves in clouds of spray, that dashed over the decks, which seldom received other washing. her cargo seemed to be cord-wood, neatly split, and piled high on deck. while off casco, the wind dropped down, and the "sally" was left floating idly upon the glassy ocean. far in the distance lay an english man-o'-war, also becalmed; but from which a long-boat, stoutly manned, soon put out, and made for the becalmed schooner. the boat was soon within hail, and a trim young officer in the stern-sheets sung out,-- "what craft's that?" "schooner 'sally' of portsmouth," came the answer, in the drawling tones of a down-east skipper. "where from?" "portland." "where bound?" "portsmouth." "what's your cargo." "firewood," responded capt. fernald with a carelessness he was far from feeling; for deep down in the hold, under the cord-wood, were two twenty-four-pounder cannon, thirteen thousand pounds of powder, and about one hundred boarding pikes and cutlasses. the british officer hesitated a moment, as if the little coaster was of too little importance for further examination. "well, i think i'll come aboard," said he carelessly, and soon stood with three or four of his men on the deck of the "sally." after glancing contemptuously about the ill-kept decks, he turned to his men with the sharp order: "clear away some of that wood from the hatchways, and see what's in the hold." the men set to work, passing the cord-wood away from the hatch ways, and piling it upon the after-deck. soon they had worked their way into the hold, and were going deeper and deeper down toward the munitions of war. capt. fernald's blood seemed to stop coursing in his veins. he knew that but one layer of cord-wood then lay above the cannon, and he expected every instant to see the black iron uncovered. but the british officer grew impatient. "that's enough of that work," said he; "there's nothing but wood there. captain, you can proceed on your course." a momentary murmur arose from the english sailors. the "sally" was theirs by right of capture, and they saw no reason for her liberation. "why, lads," said the officer, "it would cost just as much to get this poor fellow's wood-schooner condemned as it would a large ship. as for the prize-money, it would not make a penny apiece." so, tumbling into their boat, the jackies pulled away; shouting to the captain of the "sally" to stow his cargo again, or his old tub would capsize. capt. fernald took their jeers good-naturedly, for he was the victor in that encounter. the occurrence had been observed from the shore; and, when the british sailors were seen swarming over the side of the "sally," a horse-man set off for portsmouth to notify commodore hull that the schooner was captured. it was a sore blow; for the guns and powder were thought to be lost, and munitions of war were hard to be had at that time. but hull soon threw aside the disappointment, and was busily engaged with plans for the vessels then building, when a sentry came in, and reported the "sally" in sight. hull rushed to the water-side. sure enough, there came the battered old schooner, butting her way through the waves of the channel; and, before long, the two cannon were safe in the storehouses, while capt. fernald found himself vested with a reputation for almost superhuman sagacity and luck. not all the encounters between the blockaders and the blockade-runners terminated so happily for the americans. many a coasting-vessel was sent to halifax to swell the coffers of the british prize-courts, or, after being set on fire, was left to lie charred and ruined upon the rocky shore, as a warning to all who violated the blockade. the capture of one united states war-vessel graced the english naval annals of january, ; for the little brig "viper," carrying twelve guns, fell in the way of the british, thirty-two, "narcissus," and straightway surrendered to the overwhelming force of her enemy. among the united states war-vessels caught and held in port by the blockade was the frigate "constellation." she was at the opening of the war the favorite ship of the american navy; her exploits in the war with france having endeared her to the american people, and won for her among frenchmen the name of "the yankee race-horse." notwithstanding her reputation for speed, she is said to have been very crank, and had an awkward way of getting on her beam-ends without much provocation. an almost incredible tale is told of her getting "knocked down" by a squall while chasing a french privateer, and, notwithstanding the delay, finally overhauling and capturing the chase. when war was declared with england, the "constellation" was so thoroughly dismantled, that some months were occupied in refitting before she was ready to put to sea. in january, , she dropped anchor in hampton roads, expecting to set out on an extended cruise the next morning. had she been a day earlier, her career in the war of might have added new lustre to her glorious record in the war with france; but the lack of that day condemned her to inglorious inactivity throughout the war: for on that very night a british squadron of line-of-battle ships and frigates dropped anchor a few miles down the bay, and the "constellation" was fairly trapped. when, by the gray light of early morning, the lookout on the "constellation" saw the british fleet lying quietly at their anchorage down the bay, he reported to capt. stewart; and the latter saw that, for a time, he must be content to remain in port. stewart's reputation for bravery and devotion to his country leaves no doubt that the prospect of prolonged idleness was most distasteful to him. but he had little time to mourn over his disappointment. the position of the frigate was one of great danger. at any moment she might be exposed to attack by the hostile fleet. accordingly, she dropped down abreast of craney island, where she was secure from attack by the british vessels, but still open to the assaults of their boats. to meet this danger, capt. stewart took the most elaborate precautions. his ship was anchored in the middle of the narrow channel; and on either side were anchored seven gunboats, officered and manned by the men of the frigate. around the gunboats and frigate extended a vast circle of floating logs, linked together by heavy chains, that no boarders might come alongside the vessels. the great frigate towered high above the surrounding gunboats, her black sides unbroken by an open port; for the gun-deck ports were lashed down, and the guns housed. not a rope's end was permitted to hang over the side; the stern ladders were removed, and the gangway cleats knocked off. an enemy might as well hope to scale the unbroken front of a massive wall of masonry, as that dark, forbidding hull. from the bulwarks rose on all sides, to the ends of the yards, a huge net made of ratlin stuff, boiled in pitch until it would turn the edge of a cutlass, and further strengthened by nail-rods and small chains. the upper part of the netting was weighted with kentledge, the pigs of iron used for ballast; so that, should the hardy assailants succeed in coming alongside and scaling the side, a few blows of an axe would let fall the heavily weighted nettings, sweeping the boarders into the sea, and covering boats and men with an impenetrable mesh, under which they would be at the mercy of the sailors on the frigate's decks. the carronades and howitzers were loaded with grape; and the officers and men felt that only bravery on their part was essential to the defeat of any force that great britain could send against the ship. heedless of these formidable preparations for their reception, the enemy set under way two expeditions for the capture of the "constellation." in neither case did the antagonists actually come to blows, for the approach of the british was discovered before they came within pistol-shot; and, as their only chance lay in surprising the americans, they retired without striking a blow. the coming of the first expedition was known upon the "constellation" the day before it actually set out. a portuguese merchantman, trying to beat out of the bay, had been stopped by the british, and anchored a few miles below the american frigate. a guard and lookout from the english fleet were stationed on the portuguese to watch the "constellation." in an unguarded moment, these men let fall a hint of the movement under way; and an american passenger on the portuguese vessel quickly carried the news to capt. stewart, and volunteered to remain and aid in the defence. the next night was dark and drizzly; and the british, to the number of two thousand, set out in boats for the "constellation." hardly were they within gunshot, when two lanterns gleamed from the side of a watchful guard-boat; and the roll of drums and sound of hurrying feet aboard the frigate told that the alarm was given. the assailants thereupon abandoned the adventure, and returned to their ship. the next night they returned, but again retreated discomfited. several nights later, a third expedition came up. this time the guard-boat was far down the bay; and, seeing the huge procession of boats, the americans calmly edged in among them, and for some time rowed along, listening to the conversation of the british, who never dreamed that an enemy could be in their midst. suddenly a sailor, more sharp-eyed than the rest, caught sight of the interlopers; and the cry was raised, "a stranger!" the americans tugged at their oars, and were soon lost to sight; but, not being pursued, returned, and accompanied their foes up the bay, and even anchored with the flotilla at a point above the "constellation." the enemy, finding the americans constantly on the watch, abandoned their designs on the ship, and vowed that capt. stewart must be a scotchman, as he could never be caught napping. some days later, an officer, sent with a flag of truce to the british fleet, vastly chagrined the officers there by repeating their remarks overheard by the guard-boat officers who joined the british flotilla in the dark. these three escapes confirmed the reputation borne by the "constellation," as a "lucky ship;" and although she remained pent up in port throughout the war, doing nothing for her country, her luck was unquestioned in the minds of the sailors. with her they classed the "constitution" and "enterprise," while the "chesapeake" and "president" were branded as unlucky. certainly the career of these ships in the war of went far to confirm the superstitious belief of the sailors. in the course of the next two months, chesapeake bay was the scene of two gallant adventures, in which american privateersmen were opposed to the british sailors. on feb. , the privateer schooner "lottery" was standing down the bay under easy sail, out-bound on a voyage to bombay. the schooner was one of the clipper-built craft, for which baltimore ship-builders were famous the world over. her battery consisted of six twelve-pounder carronades, and her crew numbered twenty-five men. near the point at which the noble bay opens into the atlantic ocean, a narrow sheet of water extends into the virginia shore, winding in sinuous courses several miles inland. this is known as lynnhaven bay; and on its placid surface there lay, on the morning of the "lottery's" appearance, four powerful frigates flying the british flag. from their tops the approaching schooner could be seen across the low-lying neck of land that separated the smaller bay from the main body of water. the cry of "sail, ho!" roused the fleet to sudden activity; and an expedition of two hundred men was quickly organized to proceed against the privateer. fortune seemed to favor the british; for hardly had the boats left the fleet, when the fresh breeze died away, and the schooner was left at the mercy of the boats, which, propelled by the long, swinging strokes of man-o'-war oarsmen, bore down rapidly upon her. capt. southcomb of the "lottery" was an american sailor, who had smelt powder before; and he had no idea of yielding up his ship without a struggle. the formidable force sent against him merely moved him to more desperate resistance. when the boats came within range, the guns of the "lottery" opened upon them with a hail of grape and round shot. still the assailants pressed on, and soon came beneath the schooner's lee. dropping their oars, the plucky british tars sprang into the chains, swarmed up the bobstay and over the bow, and used each other's backs as ladders to aid them to reach the schooner's deck. the little crew of privateersmen fought viciously, guarding the side with cutlasses and pistols, hurling the boarders back into the sea, or cutting them down as they reached the deck. cold shot and kentledge were dashed upon the boats, in the hopes of sinking them; while the carronades poured a destructive fire upon such boats as could be reached by their shot. but the conflict was too unequal to last long. the english sailors swarmed over the gunwale on all sides, and, cheering lustily, drove the small remnant of defenders below. capt. southcomb was cut down, and lay mortally wounded upon the deck when the enemy took possession of the ship. when the victors came to look about the captured vessel, they found such proofs of a desperate resistance, that their admiration was open and pronounced. five only of the schooner's crew were unhurt, while the british paid for their success with the loss of thirteen men. capt. southcomb, in a dying condition, was taken aboard the frigate "belvidera," where he received the tenderest treatment, and was shown marked respect on account of his bravery. [illustration: awaiting the boarders.] in the next encounter between the blockaders and a privateer, the british bore away the palm for gallantry. this time the privateersmen had every advantage, while the british carried the day by pure courage. the captured vessels were the privateer schooner "dolphin," of twelve guns, and the letters-of-marque "racer," "arab," and "lynx," of six guns each. the crews of the four vessels aggregated one hundred and sixty men. against this force came five boats manned by one hundred and five british sailors, who pulled fifteen miles in order to attack their foes. wearied though they were by the long pull, the sight of the privateers seemed to arouse new strength in the plucky tars; and, without a thought of the odds against them, they dashed forward, cheering, and calling upon the americans to surrender. had the four schooners been manned by such brave men as those who defended the "lottery," the assailants might have been beaten off. as it was, two vessels surrendered without firing a shot. the crew of the "racer" fought pluckily for a time, but were soon overpowered, and the vessel's guns turned upon the "dolphin." when fire was opened upon this last vessel, her crew, affrighted, leaped overboard from every side; and the "dolphin" was soon in the hands of her enemies, who had lost but thirteen men in the whole action. many a gallant adventure, such as this, is to be laid to the credit of the british tars on the american station during the continuance of the blockade. right dashing fellows were they, at cutting out a coasting-schooner as she lay under the guns of some american earthworks. the lads that have won for england her supremacy upon the seas have never been behindhand at swarming up the sides of an enemy, leaping his taffrail, and meeting him on his own deck with the cold steel. and as the year rolled on, and the blockade along the american coast was made more strict, the meetings between the enemies became more frequent. from every seaport town, yankee privateers were waiting to escape to sea; and they seldom won clear without a brush with the watchful enemy. the british, too, had begun to fit out privateers, though american commerce offered but little enticement for these mercenary gentry. between the ships of the two private armed navies, encounters were common; and the battles were often fought with courage and seamanship worthy of the regular navy. little glory was won by the navy of the united states during the opening months of the year. many ships were laid up in port; while some, like the "constellation," were blockaded by the enemy. the "president" and the "congress" managed to get to sea from boston in april, and entered upon a protracted cruise, in which the bad luck of the former ship seemed to pursue her with malevolent persistence. the two ships parted after cruising in company for a month, and scoured the ocean until the following december, when they returned home, experiencing little but continual disappointments. the "congress" could report only the capture of four british merchantmen, as the result of her eight months' cruise; while the long service had so seriously injured her hull, that she was condemned as unseaworthy, and ended her career, a dismantled hulk reduced to the ignoble service of store-ship at a navy-yard. the "president" was little more fortunate in her search for prizes. after parting with her consort, she beat about in the vicinity of the gulf stream, in the hopes of getting a ship or two returning from the west indies. but day after day passed, and no ship appeared. changing his plan, commodore rodgers made for the north sea, feeling sure that there he would find in plenty the marine game for which he was seeking. but, to his astonishment, not an english ship was to be found. it was then the middle of summer, and the frigate had been at sea for nearly three months. the jackies on the forecastle were weary of the long voyage, and fairly at the end of their occupations for "teasing time." the officers, well knowing the effect of long idleness upon the sailors, were tireless in devising means of employment. the rigging was set up weekly, so that the shrouds and stays were like lines drawn with a ruler. enough rope-yarn was pulled, and spun-yarn spun, to supply a navy-yard for months. laggards were set to scrubbing the rust off the chain cables, and sharpening with files the flukes of the anchors. when such work failed, the men were drilled in the use of cutlasses and single sticks; forming long lines down the gun-deck, and slashing away with right good will at the word of the instructor. but the monotony of a long cruise without a prize cannot long be beguiled by such makeshifts; and it was with the heartiest pleasure that the sailors heard that the commodore had determined to put into port for a time, and take on board stores. it was north bergen, norway, that rodgers chose for this purpose; and an unfortunate choice it proved to be, for a famine prevailed in the country, and only water could be obtained for the ship. leaving the inhospitable port, the "president" was soon again upon the ocean. she quickly took two british merchantmen, from which she replenished her stores. shortly after, two hostile frigates hove in sight, and the "president" fled for her life before them for more than eighty hours. at that season, in those high latitudes, no friendly darkness settled over the ocean to give the fugitive a chance to escape. bright daylight persisted throughout the chase, and the sun never dipped below the horizon. sheer good sailing saved the american frigate, and enabled her to leave her pursuers far in her wake. for some days thereafter, better luck seemed to attend the frigate that so pluckily kept up her operations in seas thousands of miles from a friendly port. with true yankee audacity, she extended her cruise even into the irish channel, and there preyed upon british commerce until the enemy was moved to send a squadron to rout out the audacious intruder. then rodgers set sail for home. on the voyage to the united states, the "president" captured a british armed schooner by a stratagem which taught at least one british officer to respect "yankee cuteness." it was near the last of september that the frigate was flying along before a fresh breeze. her yards were spread with a cloud of snowy canvas, and the wind sung through the straining cordage a melody sweet to the ears of the sailor homeward bound. towards evening, a small sail was made out in the distance; and, as time wore on, it was seen that she was rapidly approaching the "president." rodgers surmised that the stranger might be a british vessel, and determined to lure her within range by strategy. in some way he had obtained knowledge of some of the private signals of the british navy; and in a few minutes from the masthead of the american frigate, there fluttered a row of flags which announced her as the british frigate "sea-horse." the stranger promptly responded, and was made out to be the schooner "highflyer," a little craft noted for her sailing qualities. unsuspectingly the "highflyer" came under the stern of the american frigate, and waited for a boat to be sent aboard. soon the boat came; and one of rodgers's lieutenants, clad in british uniform, clambered up the side, and was received with due honor. he was the bearer of a message from commodore rodgers, requesting that the signal-books of the "highflyer" be sent on board the fictitious "sea-horse" for comparison and revision. this the british captain hastened to do, and soon followed his books to the deck of the frigate, where a lieutenant met him, clothed in full british uniform. a file of marines, dressed in the scarlet coats of the british service, stood on the deck; and the duped englishman greatly admired the appearance of the frigate, remarking to the officer who escorted him to rodgers's cabin, that so trim a craft could only be found in his majesty's service. on entering the cabin, the english officer greeted commodore rodgers with deference, and proceeded at once to tell of naval matters. "i have here," said he, placing a bundle of papers in the commodore's hands, "a numbers of despatches for admiral warren, who is on this station. you may not know that one of the principal objects of our squadron cruising here is the capture of the yankee frigate 'president,' which has been greatly annoying british commerce." rodgers was naturally much interested in this statement, and asked the visitor if he knew much about the commander of the "president." "i hear he is an odd fish," was the response; "and certainly he is devilish hard to catch." rodgers started. he had hardly expected so frank an expression of opinion. "sir," said he emphatically, "do you know what vessel you are on board of?" "why, certainly,--on board of his majesty's ship 'sea-horse.'" "no, sir, you are mistaken," was the startling response. "you are on board of the united states frigate 'president,' and i am commodore rodgers." the astounded englishman sprang to his feet, and rushed to the deck. the sight he saw there was still more startling. the quarter-deck was crowded with officers in united states uniform. the scarlet coats of the marines had vanished, and were replaced by yankee blue. even as he looked, the british flag came fluttering down, the american ensign went up, and the band struck up "yankee doodle." nothing was left to the englishman but to submit; and, with the best grace possible, he surrendered his vessel and himself to the "odd fish," who had so cleverly trapped him. [illustration: "i am commodore rodgers."] three days later, the "president," with her prize, and crowded with prisoners, dropped anchor in the harbor of newport, after a cruise of one hundred and forty-eight days. in actual results, the cruise was far from satisfactory, for but eleven vessels had been taken. but the service rendered the country by annoying the enemy's merchantmen, and drawing the british war-vessels away in chase, was vast. at one time more than twenty british men-of-war were searching for the roving american frigate; and the seafaring people of the united states were thus greatly benefited by the "president's" prolonged cruise. chapter ix. decatur blockaded at new york. -- attempts to escape through long island sound. -- the flag-ship struck by lightning. -- torpedoes. -- fulton's steam frigate. -- action between the "chesapeake" and "shannon." while the "president" was thus roaming the seas, almost within sight of the shores of the british isles, events were occurring along the american coast which were little likely to raise the spirits of the people of the united states. from the "president," the "congress," the "essex," and the smaller vessels that were upholding the honor of the flag upon the ocean, they could hear nothing. but worse than this was it for the good people of new york or boston to go down to the water-side and see stanch united states frigates kept in port by the overwhelming forces of the enemy, that lay watchfully outside the harbor's mouth. for there was no doubt about it: the blockade was daily becoming closer; and in the months of april and may a ship would have found it a hard task to run out of new york harbor without falling into the hands of the british fleet stationed there. but, at that very time, three stout men-of-war floated on the waves of that noble bay, under the command of an officer little used to staying quietly in port in time of war. the officer was stephen decatur: and the ships were the flag-ship "united states;" the captured "macedonian," repaired, and flying the stars and stripes, under the command of the gallant capt. jacob jones; and the sloop-of-war "hornet," capt. biddle. with this force under his command, decatur burned with the desire to get to sea. the watchfulness of the british at the narrows made it useless to think of escaping that way: therefore, he determined to pass up the sound, and reach the ocean by way of the opening between montauk point and block island. at the very outset of this voyage, however, was a serious obstacle. through the narrow channel of the east river, between ward's island and the long island shore, the tides rushed with a mad speed and turbulence, that had won for the strait the significant name of hell gate. the united states government had not then bent its energies to undermining and blowing into bits the jagged rocks that at low tide reared their crests above the swirling eddies. with its tides like mill races, and rocks hidden beneath the treacherous water, hell gate was a fearful place for any ship to make its way through with the uncertain aid of sails alone. still greater were its dangers for the ponderous and deep-laden men-of-war, that required deep water and plenty of sea-room for their movements. such considerations, however, had no weight with decatur, who had seen his ships lying idly at their anchorage off staten island long enough. in the night of may , he accordingly got up anchors and started for the sound. hell gate was passed safely, thanks to a skilful pilot, whom neither the darkness of the night, nor the perils of the narrow channel, could daunt. once past this danger, the three vessels made their way up the sound, with the flag-ship leading. they had gone but a little way when black clouds to the westward told of a coming storm. the cloud-bank came rolling up rapidly; and soon, with a burst of rain, the three vessels were enveloped in the thunder-shower. the lightning flashed through the black clouds, the thunder crashed and roared, and the wind shrieked fiercely through the cordage. the "united states" held her place at the head of the squadron; while behind, at the distance of half a cable's-length, came the "macedonian." suddenly the men on the deck of the latter vessel were horrified to see a jagged flash of lightning cut its zigzag course through the clouds, then dart, straight as an arrow, at the main-mast of the "united states." hoarse cries were heard from the deck of the stricken frigate; and the captain of the "macedonian," fearing lest the "states" should blow up, threw all aback on his ship, to escape the explosion. but happily the thunderbolt had done little serious injury. in its course it had cut away the pendant; shot into the doctor's cabin, extinguishing that worthy's candle, to his vast astonishment; then, gliding away, broke through the ship's hull near the water-line, and plunged into the sea, after ripping off a few sheets of copper from the ship's bottom. no delay was caused by the accident; though the superstitious sailors pronounced it an evil omen, and dismally predicted all sorts of disasters. on the th of may the squadron reached the strait through which decatur hoped to gain the ocean; but, to the intense disappointment of all on board, a formidable british fleet barred all egress. three days later the americans made an attempt to slip out unseen; but, failing in this, they returned to new london harbor, where the two frigates were kept rotting in the mud until the war was ended. the "hornet" luckily managed to run the blockade, and of her exploits we shall hear later. upon the arrival of the three american ships at new london, the enemy guarded the coast with renewed vigilance. the inhabitants made every attempt to drive away the blockaders; and in the course of this prolonged struggle there appeared, for almost the first time in the history of warfare, that most terrible of offensive weapons, the submarine torpedo. during the revolution, two attempts had been made to blow up british men-of-war by means of torpedoes, invented by a saybrook mechanic named bushnell. though the attempts failed, yet the torpedoes demonstrated their tremendous power. before the declaration of the second war with england, robert fulton, the inventor of the steamboat, had made many improvements upon bushnell's designs, and had so thoroughly spread the knowledge of torpedo warfare that it suggested itself to many new englanders as a means of driving the enemy from their coast. the first attempt was well planned, but failed through an entirely accidental combination of circumstances. certain private citizens (for in that day it was thought ignoble for a government to embark in torpedo warfare) fitted out in new york a schooner, the "eagle," in the hold of which ten kegs of powder, together with sulphur and piles of heavy stones, were placed. in the head of one of the casks were two gun-locks, primed, and held in place by two barrels of flour. should either of the barrels be moved, the lock would spring, and the terrible mine would explode with tremendous force. with this dreadful engine of destruction, carefully covered by a cargo of flour and naval stores, the "eagle" left new york, and made her way up the bay, until, near new london, she was overhauled and captured by the british frigate "ramillies." boats were sent out by the english to take possession of the prize; but the crew of the "eagle," seeing the enemy coming, took to their small boats, and succeeded in safely reaching the shore. the captors, on boarding the vessel, were vastly pleased to find that its cargo consisted largely of flour, of which the "ramillies" stood in great need. they at once attempted to get the frigate alongside the prize, that the captured cargo might be readily transferred. but a calm had fallen, and two hours' constant work with sweeps and towing was unavailing. accordingly, this plan of action was abandoned, and the boats were ordered to lighter the cargo from the "eagle" to the frigate. hardly had the first barrel been moved, when, with a roar, and rush of flame and smoke as from a volcano, the schooner blew up. huge timbers, stones, and barrels were sent flying high into the air. the lieutenant and ten men from the frigate, who were on the "eagle" at the time, were blown to atoms; and the timbers and missiles, falling on all sides, seriously injured many men in the boats near by. had the frigate been alongside, where her commander had endeavored to place her, she would have gone to the bottom, with all her crew. an attempt so nearly successful as this could not be long in leading others to make similar ventures. sir thomas hardy, the commander of the "ramillies," was kept in a constant fever of apprehension, lest some night his ship should be suddenly sent to the bottom by one of the insidious torpedoes. several times the ship was attacked; and her escapes were so purely matters of accident, that she seemed almost to be under the protection of some sailors' deity. a norwich mechanic, who had invented a submarine boat with a speed of three miles an hour, succeeded in getting under the bottom of the blockader three times, but was each time foiled in his attempt to attach a torpedo to the ship's hull. another american, a fisherman, succeeded in getting alongside in a whale-boat, unobserved, but was driven away before he could get his torpedo in position. such constant attacks so alarmed hardy, that at last he gave up bringing his ship to anchor, keeping her continually under way, and, as a further precaution, causing her bottom to be swept every two hours throughout the day and night. the use of torpedoes was not confined to the people of new england. new york harbor was closed with a row of them. the british seventy-four "plantagenet," lying off cape henry, virginia, was nearly sunk by one in the charge of mr. mix, an american naval officer. the attack was made near ten o'clock, on an unusually dark night. mix and his associates pulled in a heavy boat to a point near the bow of the menaced vessel. the torpedo was then slipped into the water, with the clockwork which was to discharge it set in motion. the rushing tide carried the destructive engine down toward the frigate; and the americans pulled away into the darkness, to await the explosion. but the clockwork had been badly adjusted, and the torpedo exploded just before it reached the ship. a huge column of water, gleaming with a ghostly sulphurous light, was thrown high in the air, falling with terrific force on the deck of the frigate, which was almost capsized by the shock. a veritable storm of abuse and condemnation followed the introduction of torpedo warfare. all countries and all peoples pronounced it treacherous and cowardly, and the english press was particularly loud in its denunciations. yet the torpedo had won its place in the armaments of nations; and to-day we see all the nations of europe vieing with each other in the invention and construction of powerful and accurate torpedoes and swift torpedo-boats. the germ of another feature of modern naval organization is to be found in the annals of the war of . the first war-vessel propelled by steam was launched by the americans for service in this war. she was designed by robert fulton, and bore the name of "fulton the first." in model she was a queer craft, with two hulls like a catamaran, with the single propelling-wheel mounted between them amidships. her armament was to consist of thirty thirty-two-pounder guns, and two one-hundred-pounder columbiads. a secondary engine was designed to throw floods of water upon the decks and through the port-holes of an enemy. while the vessel was building, reports concerning her reached england; and soon the most ludicrously exaggerated accounts of her power were current in that country. "she mounts forty-four guns," said an english paper, "four of which are one-hundred-pounders, mounted in bomb proofs, and defended by thousands of boarding-pikes and cutlasses wielded by steam; while showers of boiling water are poured over those boarders who might escape death from the rapidly whirling steel." unfortunately for the american cause, this much dreaded vessel did not get into the water in time to take any active part in the war. in june, , while the british blockaders in the sound were exercising all their ingenuity to keep off the torpedoes, there was fought off the massachusetts coast, near boston, an engagement which must go down to history as one of the most brilliant naval duels of the age of sails. the united states frigate "chesapeake" was refitting at boston, after a cruise of four months, during which she had more than justified her reputation as an unlucky ship. though she sailed the waters most frequented by british merchantmen, she returned to port having captured only four vessels. three men-of-war were sighted, but could not be spoken. strangely enough, the frigate sailed over the spot where lay the sunken "peacock" the very day after the "hornet" had fought her famous fight. ill-luck pursued the hapless ship even to her home port; for, as she was entering the port of boston, a sudden squall carried away the topmast, with several men who were aloft at the time. when the "hornet" reached port, after her victory over the "peacock," her gallant captain, james lawrence, was appointed to the command of the "chesapeake." on reaching his ship, he found affairs in a desperate condition. the sailors who had sailed on the long and unproductive cruise were firmly convinced that the frigate's bad luck was beyond remedy. the term of enlistment of many had expired, and they were daily leaving the ship. those who remained were sullen, and smarting under fancied ill-treatment in the matter of the prize-money. to get fresh seamen was no easy task. great fleets of privateers were being fitted out; and sailors generally preferred to sail in these vessels, in which the discipline was light, and the gains usually great. some sailors from the "constitution" were induced to join the "chesapeake;" and these, with the remnant of the frigate's old crew, formed the nucleus of a crew which was filled up with merchant-sailors and foreigners of all nations. before the lists were fairly filled, the ship put to sea, to give battle to an adversary that proved to be her superior. the events leading to the action were simple, and succeeded each other hurriedly. the port of boston was blockaded by two british frigates, the "tenedos" thirty-eight, and the "shannon" thirty-eight. the latter vessel was under the command of capt. philip bowes vere broke, a naval officer of courage, skill, and judgment. his crew was thoroughly disciplined, and his ship a model of efficiency. no officer in the service understood better than he the difference between the discipline of a martinet and the discipline of a prudent and sagacious commander. his ship might not, like the "peacock," merit the title of "the yacht;" but for active service she was always prepared. james, an english naval historian, turns from his usual occupation of explaining the american naval victories by belittling the british ships, and enormously magnifying the power of the victors, to speak as follows of the "shannon:"-- "from the day on which he [capt. broke] joined her, the th of september, , the 'shannon' began to feel the effect of her captain's proficiency as a gunner, and zeal for the service. the laying of the ship's ordnance so that it may be correctly fired in a horizontal direction is justly deemed a most important operation, as upon it depends, in a great measure, the true aim and destructive effect of the shot; this was attended to by capt. broke in person. by drafts from other ships, and the usual means to which a british man-of-war is obliged to resort, the 'shannon' got together a crew; and in the course of a year or two, by the paternal care and excellent regulations of capt. broke, the ship's company became as pleasant to command as it was dangerous to meet." moreover, the historian goes on to relate that the ship's guns were carefully sighted, and her ammunition frequently overhauled. often a cask would be thrown overboard, and a gun's crew suddenly called to sink it as it bobbed about on the waves astern. practice with the great guns was of daily occurrence. "every day for about an hour and a half in the forenoon, when not prevented by chase or the state of the weather, the men were exercised at training the guns; and for the same time in the afternoon in the use of the broad-sword, musket, pike, etc. twice a week the crew fired at targets, both with great guns and musketry; and capt. broke, as an additional stimulus beyond the emulation excited, gave a pound of tobacco to every man that put a shot through the bull's-eye." such was the vessel that in june appeared alone off the entrance to boston harbor, and by her actions seemed to challenge the "chesapeake" to give her battle. indeed, broke's wish to test the strength of the two vessels was so great, that he sent in, by the hands of an american prisoner, a written challenge, the terms and spirit of which showed the writer to be a courageous and chivalric officer and gentleman. "as the 'chesapeake' now appears ready for sea," he wrote, "i request you will do me the honor to meet the 'shannon' with her, ship to ship, to try the fortunes of our respective flags. to an officer of your character, it requires some apology for proceeding to further particulars. be assured, sir, it is not from any doubt i can entertain of your wishing to close with my proposal, but merely to provide an answer to any objection which might be made, and very reasonably, upon the chance of our receiving any unfair support." capt. broke then proceeds to assure lawrence that the other british ships in the neighborhood would be sent away before the day of combat. to the challenge was appended a careful statement of the strength of the "shannon," that lawrence might understand that the ships were fairly matched. but before this challenge reached boston, lawrence had set out to seek the enemy. he had seen the "shannon" lying off the entrance to the port; and, finding out that she was alone, he knew that her presence was in itself a challenge that he could not honorably ignore. nor did he desire to avoid the battle thus offered. he had confidence in his crew, his frigate, and himself, and looked for nothing but victory. to the secretary of the navy, he wrote, "an english frigate is now in sight from my deck. i have sent a pilot-boat out to reconnoitre; and, should she be alone, i am in hopes to give a good account of her before night. my crew appear to be in fine spirits, and i hope will do their duty." in truth, however, the condition of this same crew was such that the captain would have been justified in refusing the challenge. an unusual number of foreign sailors were enrolled, among whom was a portuguese, who, in the ensuing battle, did incalculable injury to the cause of the "chesapeake." the crew had never drilled together; many of the sailors came on board only a few hours before the ship sailed out to battle. all the old sailors were sullen over the delay in the payment of the prize-money of their last cruise. lawrence attempted to allay their discontent by giving them checks for the prize-money; but the sense of injury still lingered in the minds of the men, and they were ill-fitted to do battle for the honor of the flag. added to this evil was the fact that the first and second lieutenants and two acting lieutenants were away on sick-leave, and the ship was thus left short of officers on the eve of battle. regardless of the disadvantages under which he labored, lawrence weighed anchor on the st of june, and started down the harbor. as he approached the ocean, lawrence mustered his crew aft, and eloquently urged them to fight bravely, and do their duty to the country, which had entered upon this war in defence of seamen and their rights. three ensigns were run up; and at the fore was unfurled a broad white flag, bearing the motto, "free trade and sailors' rights." when lawrence closed his speech, and pointed out the flag floating at the fore, the men cheered and went forward, leaving the captain convinced that he could depend upon their loyalty. the morning was bright and cool, with a fresh breeze blowing, before which the "chesapeake" rapidly bore down upon the foe that awaited her. following cautiously in her track came a number of small craft,--pilot-boats, sloops, fishing-smacks, and pleasure-boats,--that had come down the bay to see the outcome of the battle. hundreds of people of boston rode along the coast, in hopes of gaining an outlook from which the progress of the fight might be viewed. at noon the ship rounded boston light, and made out into the open sea. the "shannon" went ahead, under easy sail, making up the coast toward salem. towards five o'clock the "chesapeake" luffed up for a moment; while the pilot clambered down the side, and put off in a small boat. a gun was then fired, as a signal that the americans were ready for action. the "shannon" evidently understood the purport of the signal; for she quickly hove to, and troops of agile jackies clambered up her rigging, and began to take in sail. the "chesapeake" followed suit, and was soon under only topsails and jib. she then laid her course straight for the enemy. [illustration: beating to quarters.] a ship preparing for action in that day was a scene of hurry and confusion that cannot be equalled in this era of machinery and few guns. at the short, broken, rolling beat of the drums, calling the men to quarters, the hurried rush of hundreds of feet began, as the men came pouring from all parts of the ship to their posts. some clambered aloft to their stations in the tops; others invaded the sanctity of the quarter-deck and captain's cabin, where several guns are always mounted. but the most stirring scene is on the long gun-deck where the men gradually fall into their places at the two long rows of great guns that peer through the open ports on either side. all are stripped to the waist; and at many a gun the fair skin of the american sailor gleams white by the side of some swarthy spaniard, or still darker negro. [illustration: the only shot of the "chesapeake".] all quiet down on reaching their stations; and, five minutes after the drum-beats, no sound is heard, save perhaps the steps of the black boys, taking rations of grog around, that the men may "splice the main brace" before going into the fight. thus silently did the "chesapeake" bear down upon her adversary. there was no long-range firing; for the two commanders were veterans, whose chief desire was to settle the dispute yard-arm to yard-arm. gradually the american ship ranged alongside the "shannon," at a distance of half pistol-shot; and, as her foremast came in a line with the "shannon's" mizzen-mast, the latter opened fire with her cabin-guns. for a moment the "chesapeake" was silent, waiting for her guns to bear; then, with sulphuric flashes and a thunderous roar, she let fly her whole broadside. then followed a duel with great guns. the two ships, lying side by side, dealt and received staggering blows. the spectators in small boats, who kept a safe distance, and the crowds of eager watchers on the far-off heights of salem, saw through their spy-glasses the flash of the first broadsides, and the flying splinters that followed the course of the deadly shot. then a heavy cloud of yellow smoke settled over the warring leviathans, and all further incidents of the battle were shut out from view. only the top-masts of the ships, with the half-furled sails and the opposing ensigns flying, could be seen above the smoke. under this vaporous pall, the fighting was sharp and desperate. the first broadside of the "shannon" so swept the decks of the american frigate, that, of one hundred and fifty men quartered on the upper deck, not fifty were upon their legs when the terrible rush of the shot was over. the sailors in the tops of the british frigate, looking down upon the decks of their enemy, could see nothing but a cloud of hammocks, splinters, and wreckage of all kinds, driven fiercely across the deck. both men at the wheel fell dead, but their places were soon filled; while fresh gunners rushed down to work the guns that had been silenced by the enemy's fearful broadside. in a moment the "chesapeake" responded with spirit, and for some time broadsides were exchanged with inconceivable rapidity. the men encouraged each other with cheers and friendly cries. they had named the guns of the frigate, and with each telling shot they cheered the iron-throated monster which had hurled the bolt. "wilful murder," "spitfire," "revenge," "bull dog," "mad anthony," "defiance," "raging eagle," and "viper" were some of the titles born by the great guns; and well the weapons bore out the names thus bestowed upon them. the gunnery of the americans was good, their shot doing much damage to the enemy's rigging. but the effect of the "shannon's" broadsides was such that no men, however brave, could stand before them. they swept the decks, mowing down brave fellows by the score. officers fell on every side. at a critical moment the two ships fouled, exposing the "chesapeake" to a raking broadside, which beat in her stern-ports, and drove the gunners from the after-port. at this moment, lawrence was wounded in the leg, but remained at his post and ordered that the boarders be called up. unhappily a negro bugler had been detailed for the duty usually performed by drummers; and, at this important moment, he could not be found. midshipmen and lieutenants ran about the ship, striving to call up the boarders by word of mouth. in the confusion, the bugler was found skulking under the stem of the launch, and so paralyzed by fear that he could only give a feeble blast upon his instrument. in the din and confusion of battle, the oral orders of the officers only perplexed the men; and the moment for boarding was lost. at that very moment, the turning-point of the conflict, capt. lawrence was struck by a musket-ball, and fell mortally wounded to the deck. his officers rushed to his side, and, raising him gently, were carrying him below, when in a firm voice he cried,-- "tell the men to fire faster, and not give up the ship. fight her till she sinks." with these words on his lips, he was carried to the wardroom. at this moment, the upper deck was left without an officer above the rank of midshipman. the men, seeing their captain carried below, fell into a panic, which was increased by the explosion of an arm-chest, into which a hand-grenade, hurled by a sailor lying out on the yard-arm of the "shannon," had fallen. seeing that the fire of the americans had slackened, capt. broke left his quarter-deck, and, running hastily forward, gained a position on the bow of his ship from which he could look down upon the decks of the "chesapeake." his practised eye quickly perceived the confusion on the deck of the american frigate; and he instantly ordered that the ships be lashed together, and the boarders called up. an old quartermaster, a veteran in the british navy, set about lashing the ships together, and accomplished his task, although his right arm was actually hacked off by the cutlass of an american sailor. the boarders were slow in coming up, and but twenty men followed broke as he climbed to the deck of the "chesapeake." broke led his men straight for the quarter-deck of the frigate. the americans offered but little resistance. not an officer was in sight to guide the men, and the newly enlisted sailors and foreigners fled like sheep before the advance of the boarders. [illustration: on board the "chesapeake."] the british reached the quarter-deck with hardly the loss of a man. here stood mr. livermore, the chaplain of the "chesapeake," who had cruised long with lawrence, and bitterly mourned the captain's fate. determined to avenge the fallen captain, he fired a pistol at broke's head, but missed him. broke sprang forward, and dealt a mighty stroke of his keen cutlass at the chaplain's head, who saved himself by taking the blow on his arm. while the boarders were thus traversing the upper deck, the sailors in the tops of the "chesapeake" were keeping up a well-directed fire, before which many of the englishmen fell. but this resistance was not of long duration; for one of the "shannon's" long nines, loaded with grape, swept clean the "chesapeake's" tops. with this, the british were in full control of the upper deck. up to this time, the americans on the gun-deck had known nothing of the events occurring on the deck above them. when the news of the british assault spread, lieut. budd called upon the men to follow him, and drive the boarders back to their own ship. a number of the marines (who behaved splendidly throughout the fight) and some twenty veteran sailors were all that responded to the call. broke had in the mean time summoned the marines of the "shannon" to his aid; and the british, led by their dashing commander, were pouring in a dense column down the companion-ways to the gun-deck. budd and his handful of followers attacked them fiercely; and, by the very desperation of the onset, the british were forced back a few paces. broke threw himself upon the americans. with his cutlass he cut down the first man who attacked him, and bore down upon the others, dealing deadly blows right and left. his followers came close behind him. the americans fell on every side, and began to retreat before the overwhelming force of their foes. up from the wardroom came lieut. ludlow, already suffering from two dangerous wounds. he placed himself beside the younger officer, and the two strove in every way to encourage their men. but ludlow soon fell, with a gaping wound across his forehead. budd was cut down, and fell through the hatchway to the deck beneath. the sailors, seeing both officers fall, gave way in confusion; and the ship was in the hands of the british. a few marines kept up a fire through the hatchway, but soon were silenced. an english officer, lieut. watts, ran to the halliards to haul down the american flag. but it would seem that the good genius which had watched over that starry banner throughout the war was loath to see it disgraced; for the officer had hardly finished his work, when a grape-shot from his own ship struck him, and he fell dead. the noise of the battle had by this time died away, and the fresh breezes soon carried off the smoke that enveloped the combatants. it was an awful scene thus exposed to view. on the "chesapeake" were sixty-one killed, and eighty-five wounded men. on the "shannon" were thirty-three dead, and fifty wounded. on a cot in the wardroom lay capt. lawrence, his mortal wound having mercifully rendered him unconscious, so that he knew nothing of the loss of his ship. broke had been made delirious by the fevered throbbing of the wound he had so long neglected. everywhere were evidences of carnage and desolation. little time was lost in getting the ships in order after the surrender. the noise of the hammer and saw was heard in every quarter. the wounded were taken to the sick-bay, and the bodies of the dead were committed to the ocean. floods of water and the heavy holystones took from the decks the stains of blood. the galley cooks marched up and down the decks, sprinkling hot vinegar with a lavish hand. the british prize-crew took possession of the captured ship, and in a few hours the captor and captive were well on their way toward halifax. they reached port on the th of june; and the sight of the "shannon," followed by the "chesapeake" with the british ensign flying proudly over the stars and stripes, stirred the little city to the utmost enthusiasm. as the two ships pursued their stately course up the harbor, the british men-of-war on all sides manned their yards, and fired salutes in honor of the victory. the thunders of the cannon brought the town's-people to the water-side, and their cheers rang out lustily to welcome their conquering countrymen to port. capt. lawrence had died the day before; and his body, wrapped in an american flag, lay on the quarter-deck of his frigate. three days later, his body, with that of his gallant lieutenant ludlow, was laid to rest with imposing naval honors, in the churchyard of halifax. but his country, honoring him even in the day of his defeat, was not content that his body should lie in the soil of an enemy's country. two months after the battle, an american vessel, the "henry" of salem, entered the harbor of halifax, under cover of a flag of truce, and took on board the bodies of lawrence and ludlow. they were conveyed first to salem and later to new york, where they now lie under a massive monument of sandstone, in a corner of trinity churchyard. a few feet away, the ceaseless tide of human life rolls on its course up and down broadway; few of the busy men and women pausing to remember that in the ancient churchyard lies the body of the man whose dying words, "don't give up the ship," were for years the watchword and motto of the united states navy. chapter x. cruise of the "essex." -- a rich prize. -- the mysterious letter. -- cape horn rounded. -- capture of a peruvian privateer. -- among the british whalers. -- porter in command of a squadron. -- a boy commander. -- the squadron lays up at nookaheevah. while the events related in the two preceding chapters were occurring along the american coast, a few gallant vessels were upholding the honor of the stars and stripes in far distant lands. to cruise in waters frequented by an enemy's merchantmen, and capture, burn, sink, and destroy, is always a legitimate occupation for the navy of a belligerent nation. yet the nation suffering at the hands of the cruisers invariably raises the cry of "wanton vandalism and cruelty," and brands the officers to whom falls so unpleasant a duty with the name of pirates. such was the outcry raised against paul jones in the revolutionary war; so it was the british described the brilliant service of the little brig "argus" in ; and so the people of the north regarded the career of the "alabama" and other confederate cruisers in the great war for the union. but perhaps no ship had ever a more adventurous career, or wrought more damage to the enemy's commerce, than the united states frigate "essex," under the command of the able officer david porter. of the circumstances which led to the famous cruise of the "essex," some account has already been given. with a full crew, and stores enough to enable her to keep the sea for some months, the ship set sail from the delaware in the autumn of , and headed to the southward with the intention of joining the "constitution" and "hornet" at some point in the tropics. her first point of call was at porto praya, a harbor in the cape verd islands. to the captain's disappointment, he could learn nothing of bainbridge at this place; and he soon departed, after scrupulously exchanging salutes with a rickety little fort, over which floated the flag of portugal. continuing her southward way, the "essex" crossed the equator, on which occasion the jolly tars enjoyed the usual ceremonies attendant upon crossing the line. father neptune and his faithful spouse, with their attendant suite, came aboard and superintended the operation of shaving and dowsing the green hands, whose voyages had never called them before into the southern seas. capt. porter looked upon the frolic indulgently. he was well known as a captain who never unnecessarily repressed the light-heartedness of his crew. two hours daily were set aside during which the crew were free to amuse themselves in any reasonable way. at four o'clock every afternoon, the shrill piping of the boatswain's whistle rang through the ship, followed by the cry, "d'ye hear there, fore and aft? all hands skylark!" no order ever brought a quicker response, and in a minute the decks became a perfect pandemonium. the sailors rushed here and there, clad in all sorts of clothes; boxed, fenced, wrestled; ran short foot-races; played at leap-frog, and generally comported themselves like children at play. fights were of common occurrence; and the two combatants soon became the centre of an interested ring of spectators, who cheered on their favorites with loud cries of "go it, bill. now, jack, lively with yer left." but a sailor has no better friend to-day than the man he fought yesterday; and the fights, like the play, only kept the crew in good spirits and contentment. the day after crossing the equator, the "essex" sighted a sail and gave chase. towards evening the frigate had gained greatly upon the stranger, and porter displayed all the british signals which he had in his possession. the chase made no response, but set a british ensign. by nine o'clock, the "essex" was within musket-shot, and could easily have blown the fugitive out of water; but this porter was loath to do, as he desired to take the brig without doing her any injury. however, as she showed no signs of surrendering, he ordered the marines to give her a volley of musketry. one man on the chase was killed, and a number wounded, upon which her flag was immediately hauled down. she proved to be the british packet "nocton" of ten guns. in her hold was found fifty-five thousand dollars in specie, which was at once taken on board the "essex;" and the "nocton" was sent to the united states under the charge of a prize-crew. before she could make a port, she fell in with a british man-of-war, and was captured after a few hours' chase. two days after parting with the "nocton," the "essex" hove in sight of the island of fernando noronha, off the coast of brazil. for a time the frigate abandoned her warlike character, battened down her ports, housed her guns, hid her large crew between decks, and sailed into the little harbor looking like a large but peaceable british merchantman. an officer clad in plain clothes went ashore, and, meeting the governor, stated that the ship was the "fanny" of london, bound for rio janeiro. during the conversation, the governor remarked that his british majesty's ships, the "acosta" forty-four, and the "morgiana" twenty, had but recently sailed from the port, and had left a letter for sir james yeo, requesting that it be forwarded to england as soon as possible. with this news, the lieutenant returned to the ship. on hearing his report, porter at once surmised that the letter might have been left for him by commodore bainbridge; and he at once sent the officer back, bearing the message that the "fanny" was soon going to london, and her captain would see the letter delivered to sir james yeo, in person. the unsuspecting governor accordingly delivered up the epistle, and it was soon in porter's hands. the note read as follows:-- my dear mediterranean friend,--probably you may stop here. don't attempt to water: it is attended with too many difficulties. i learned, before i left _england_, that you were bound to brazil coast. if so, perhaps we may meet at st. salvador or at rio janeiro. i should be happy to meet and converse on our old affairs of captivity. recollect our secret in those times. your friend of his majesty's ship "acosta," kerr. sir james yeo of his british majesty's ship "southampton." porter read and pondered over this perplexing letter. he felt sure that the letter was from bainbridge; and in the allusion to st. salvador and rio janeiro, he perceived the commodore's wish for a rendezvous at one of those places. but what could be the secret of the times of captivity? suddenly a thought struck him. might there not be something written in sympathetic ink? hurriedly calling for a candle, he held the letter above its flame, and saw, under the influence of the heat, words and sentences appearing where before all was blank paper. "i am bound off st. salvador," it read; "thence off cape frio, where i intend to cruise until the st of january. go off cape frio to the northward of rio, and keep a lookout for me." that afternoon the governor of the island, looking out toward the harbor, was surprised to see the "fanny" standing out under a full spread of canvas. porter had gained all the information that he wished, and was off in search of his consorts. this search he continued until the th of january, cruising up and down off the brazilian coast, and taking one or two small prizes. in this unprofitable service the ship's stores were being rapidly consumed. among other things, the supply of rum began to run short; and in connection with this occurred a curious incident, that well illustrates the character of sailors. the daily rations of bread were reduced one-half, and the rations of salt meat one-third, without a word of remonstrance from the patient crew. next the discovery was made that the rum was giving out, and a proportional reduction in the rations of grog was duly ordered. the jackies put in a vigorous and immediate protest. they were prepared, they said, to go without grog, should the supply of rum be unhappily exhausted; but so long as any of the precious fluid remained, their rations of grog should not be curtailed. but to this porter would not accede, fearing that, should the men be altogether deprived of their grog, the health of the crew might suffer. accordingly, when the crew were piped to "splice the main brace" the next day, they were told that half rations only would be issued; and, if the grog was not taken up in fifteen minutes, the tub would be overturned, and the rum spilled into the sea. so dire a threat was too much for the rebellious seamen: they sprang into line, with their tin cups, and drew their curtailed rations without more ado. some days after this occurrence, the "essex" overhauled a portuguese vessel, from the captain of which porter learned that an american frigate had shortly before fought and sunk an english frigate off the coast of brazil; also, that it was rumored that an american corvette of twenty-two guns had been brought into rio, a prize to a british seventy-four. this intelligence placed capt. porter in some perplexity. he felt convinced that the successful american frigate was the "constitution;" a conjecture in which he was correct, for the news referred to the celebrated action of that ship with the "java." the captured american corvette, he concluded, must be the "hornet;" but herein the captain was wrong, for the "hornet" was at that moment blockading the "bonne citoyenne." porter now found it necessary to decide upon a course of action. the news which he had received made it appear most improbable that he would fall in with either of the united states vessels for which he was seeking. he was far from home, cruising in seas much frequented by british men-of-war. there were no naval stations or outposts belonging to the united states, into which he could put for protection or repairs; for then, as now, the nation ignored the necessity of such supply-stations. to return home was peculiarly distasteful to the captain, who had set sail with the intention of undertaking a long cruise. in this dilemma, he wasted but little time in thought. by rounding cape horn, he would carry the "essex" into the pacific ocean, where british merchantmen abounded and men-of-war were few. it was an adventurous and a perilous expedition to undertake; but porter, having decided upon it, wasted no time in getting under way. that very night he took his ship out of the snug harbor of st. catherine's, and started upon his long voyage around the horn. a winter voyage around cape horn, even in the stoutest of ships, is an undertaking to be dreaded by the most courageous seamen. the "essex" seemed to meet with more than her share of stormy weather. from the night when she set sail from st. catherine's, until she dropped anchor in a harbor of the island of mocha, almost every day witnessed a struggle for supremacy between the raging ocean on the one side, and skilful seamanship and nautical science on the other. capt. porter, however, proved himself ready for every emergency. no peril of the deep was unforeseen, no ounce of prevention unprovided. the safety of his ship, and the health of his men, were ever in his thoughts; and accordingly, when the "essex" rounded into the pacific ocean, both men and ship were in condition to give their best service to the enterprise in which they were embarked. after rounding cape horn, the "essex" made her way northward along the desolate coast of chili, until she reached the island of mocha. here she anchored for a day, giving the crew a much needed run on shore, which they enjoyed with all the zest of schoolboys out for a day's holiday. the island afforded little in the way of fresh stores; but some pigs and horses were shot, and devoured with gusto by men who for over two months had not tasted fresh meat. from this point the frigate made for valparaiso, and, after reconnoitring the port, put in for water and stores. the officers were received with much hospitality by the townspeople, and, after a few days' stay, were tendered a complimentary ball,--an entertainment into which the young officers entered with great glee. but, unhappily for their evening's pleasure, the dancing had hardly begun, when a midshipman appeared at the door of the hall, and announced that a large frigate was standing into the harbor. deserting their fair partners, the people of the "essex" hastened to their ship, and were soon in readiness for the action; while the townspeople thronged the hills overlooking the sea, in the hopes of seeing a naval duel. but the frigate proved to be a spaniard; and, of course, no action occurred. [illustration: the peruvian privateer.] the "essex" remained several days at valparaiso, and during her stay two or three american whalers put into the harbor. from the captains of these craft, porter learned that the peruvians were sending out privateers to prey upon american commerce, and that much damage had already been done by these marauders, who were no more than pirates, since no war existed between peru and the united states. porter determined to put an immediate stop to the operations of the peruvian cruisers, and had not long to wait for an opportunity. a day or two after leaving valparaiso, a sail was sighted in the offing, which was soon near enough to be made out a vessel-of-war, disguised as a whaler. porter hung out the english ensign, and caused an american whaler, with which he had that morning fallen in, to hoist a british flag over the stars and stripes. at this sight, the stranger hoisted the spanish flag, and threw a shot across the bow of the "essex." porter responded by a few shot that whizzed through the rigging just above the spaniard's deck. the latter thereupon sent a boat to the "essex;" and the officer who came aboard, thinking that he was on a british man-of-war, boasted of his ship's exploits among the american whalers. his vessel was the peruvian privateer "nereyda" of fifteen guns, and she had captured two american whalers, whose crews were even then in the hold of the privateer. he admitted that peru had no quarrel with the united states, and no reason for preying upon her commerce. the confession, so unsuspectingly made, gave porter ample grounds for the capture of the offending vessel. curtly informing his astounded visitor that he was on a united states man-of-war, porter ordered the gunners to fire two shots close to the privateer. this was done, and the peruvian quickly hauled down his colors. the american officers, on boarding the prize, found twenty-three american sailors, who had been robbed of all that they possessed, stripped of half their clothing, and thrown into the hold. these unfortunate men were released and sent to the "essex;" after which all the guns and ammunition of the privateer were thrown overboard, and the vessel ordered to return to callao. after this act of summary justice, the "essex" continued in her northward course. she touched at callao; but, much to the disappointment of all on board, there were no british vessels among the shipping at that port. nor could the lookouts, for some days, discern from the masthead any craft other than the double-hulled rafts of logs, called catamarans, in which the natives along the peruvian coast make long voyages. weary of such continued ill-luck, porter determined to make for the galapagos islands, where it was the custom of the british whaling-ships to rendezvous. but it seemed that ill-fortune was following close upon the "essex;" for she sailed the waters about the galapagos, and sent out boats to search small bays and lagoons, without finding a sign of a ship. two weeks passed in this unproductive occupation, and porter had determined to abandon the islands, when he was roused from his berth on the morning of april , , by the welcome cry of "sail, ho!" all hands were soon on deck, and saw a large ship in the offing. all sail was clapped on the frigate; and she set out in hot pursuit, flying the british ensign as a ruse to disarm suspicion. as the chase wore on, two more sail were sighted; and porter knew that he had fallen in with the long-sought whalers. he had no doubt of his ability to capture all three; for in those southern seas a dead calm falls over the ocean every noon, and in a calm the boats of the "essex" could easily take possession of the whalers. by eight o'clock in the morning, the vessel first sighted was overhauled, and hove to in obedience to a signal from the frigate. she proved to be the "montezuma," capt. baxter, with a cargo of fourteen hundred barrels of sperm-oil. baxter visited capt. porter in his cabin, and sat there unsuspectingly, giving the supposed british captain information for his aid in capturing american ships. the worthy whaler little knew, as he chatted away, that his crew was being transferred to the frigate, and a prize-crew sent to take charge of the "montezuma." by noon the expected calm fell over the water; and the boats were ordered away to take possession of the two whalers, that lay motionless some eight miles from the "essex." the distance was soon passed, and the two ships were ordered to surrender, which they quickly did, much astonished to find a united states man-of-war in that region. a breeze shortly after springing up, all the prizes bore down upon the frigate; and the gallant lads of the "essex" had the pleasure of seeing themselves surrounded with captured property to the value of nearly half a million dollars. one of the vessels, the "georgiana," was a good sailer, strongly built, and well fitted for a cruiser. accordingly she was armed with sixteen guns and a number of swivels, and placed under the command of lieut. downes. with this addition to his force, and with the other two prizes following in his wake, porter returned to the galapagos islands. the first sight of the far-off peaks of the desert islands rising above the water was hailed with cheers by the sailors, who saw in the galapagos not a group of desolate and rocky islands, but a place where turtle was plenty, and shore liberty almost unlimited. porter remained some days at the islands, urging the crew of the "essex," as well as the prisoners, to spend much time ashore. signs of the scurvy were evident among the men, and the captain well knew that in no way could the dread disease be kept away better than by constant exercise on the sands of the seashore. the sailors entered heartily into their captain's plans, and spent hours racing on the beach, swimming in the surf, and wandering over the uninhabited islands. after a few days of this sort of life, the squadron put to sea again. the "georgianna" now separated from the fleet, and started on an independent cruise, with orders for a rendezvous at certain specific times. the "essex" continued to hover about the galapagos, in the hopes of getting a few more whalers. she had not long to wait; for the whale ship "atlantic" soon fell in her way, and was promptly snapped up. the captain of this ship was a nantucket man, who had deserted the flag of his country, to cruise under what he thought to be the more powerful flag of great britain. great was his disgust to find that by his treachery he had lost all that he desired to protect. while in chase of the "atlantic," a second sail had been sighted; and to this the "essex" now gave chase. on being overhauled, the stranger at first made some show of fighting; but a shot or two from the guns of the frigate convinced him of the folly of this course, and he surrendered at discretion. the vessel proved to be the whale ship letter-of-marque "greenwich;" a stout ship, of excellent sailing qualities. she carried ten guns, and was in every way a valuable prize. porter had now been in the pacific ocean about three months. on the th of february, the "essex," solitary defender of the flag of the united states in the pacific, had turned her prow northward from cape horn, and embarked on her adventurous career in the most mighty of oceans. now in may, porter, as he trod the deck of his good ship, found himself master of a goodly squadron instead of one stanch frigate. the "essex," of course, led the list, followed by the "georgianna," sixteen guns, forty-two men; "atlantic," six guns, twelve men; "greenwich," ten guns, fourteen men; "montezuma," two guns, ten men; "policy," ten men. of these the "georgianna" had already received her armament and authority as a war-vessel; and the "atlantic" showed such seaworthy qualities that porter determined to utilize her in the same way. accordingly he set sail for tumbez, where he hoped to get rid of some of his prisoners, perhaps sell one or two of his prizes, and make the necessary changes in the "atlantic." while on the way to tumbez, a spanish brig was overhauled. her captain vastly edified capt. porter by informing him that the "nereyda," a peruvian privateer, had recently attacked a huge american frigate, and inflicted great damage upon the yankee. but the frigate proving too powerful, the privateer had been forced to fly, and hastened her flight by throwing overboard all her guns and ammunition. on the th of june, the "essex" with her satellites cast anchor in the harbor of tumbez. the first view of the town satisfied porter that his hopes of selling his prizes there were without avail. a more squalid, dilapidated little seaside village, it would be hard to find. hardly had the ships cast anchor, when the governor came off in a boat to pay a formal visit. though clothed in rags, he had all the dignity of a spanish hidalgo, and strutted about the quarter-deck with most laughable self-importance. notwithstanding his high official station, this worthy permitted himself to be propitiated with a present of one hundred dollars; and he left the ship, promising all sorts of aid to the americans. nothing came of it all, however; and porter failed to dispose of any of his prizes. while the "essex" with her train of captives lay in the harbor at tumbez, the "georgianna" came into port, and was greeted with three cheers by the men of the frigate. lieut. downes reported that he had captured three british ships, carrying in all twenty-seven guns and seventy-five men. one of the prizes had been released on parole, and the other two were then with the "georgianna." this addition to the number of vessels in the train of the "essex" was somewhat of an annoyance to capt. porter, who saw clearly that so great a number of prizes would seriously interfere with his future movements against the enemy. he accordingly remained at tumbez only long enough to convert the "atlantic" into an armed cruiser under the name of the "essex junior," and then set sail, in the hopes of finding some port wherein he could sell his embarrassing prizes. his prisoners, save about seventy-five who enrolled themselves under the american flag, were paroled, and left at tumbez; and again the little squadron put to sea. the "essex junior" was ordered to take the "hector," "catherine," "policy," and "montezuma" to valparaiso, and there dispose of them, after which she was to meet the "essex" at the marquesas islands. on her way to the rendezvous, the "essex" stopped again at the galapagos islands, where she was lucky enough to find the british whaler "seringapatam," known as the finest ship of the british whaling fleet. by her capture, the american whalers were rid of a dangerous enemy; for, though totally without authority from the british crown, the captain of the "seringapatam" had been waging a predatory warfare against such luckless americans as fell in his path. porter now armed this new prize with twenty-two guns, and considered her a valuable addition to his offensive force. she took the place of the "georgianna," which vessel porter sent back to the united states loaded with oil. among the embarrassments which the care of so many prizes brought upon the leader of the expedition was the difficulty of finding commanding officers for all the vessels. this difficulty was enhanced while the flotilla lay off the galapagos islands; for two officers, falling into a dispute, settled their quarrel, after the manner of the day, by a duel. in the contest one, a lieutenant, aged only twenty-one years, was killed, and now lies buried in the sands of the desolate and lonely island. after this occurrence, the need for commanding officers became so imperative that even the purser and chaplain of the "essex" were pressed into the service. midshipmen twelve or fourteen years old found themselves in command of ships. david farragut was one of the boys thus suddenly promoted, and in his journal has left a description of his experience as a boy commander. [illustration: the duel at the galapagos islands.] "i was sent as prize-master to the 'barclay,'" he writes. "this was an important event in my life; and, when it was decided that i was to take the ship to valparaiso, i felt no little pride at finding myself in command at twelve years of age. this vessel had been recaptured from a spanish _guarda costa_. the captain and his mate were on board; and i was to control the men sent from our frigate, while the captain was to navigate the vessel. capt. porter, having failed to dispose of the prizes as it was understood he intended, gave orders for the 'essex junior' and all the prizes to start for valparaiso. this arrangement caused great dissatisfaction on the part of the captain of the 'barclay,' a violent-tempered old fellow; and, when the day arrived for our separation from the squadron, he was furious, and very plainly intimated to me that i would 'find myself off new zealand in the morning,' to which i most decidedly demurred. we were lying still, while the other ships were fast disappearing from view; the 'commodore' going north, and the 'essex junior' with her convoy steering to the south for valparaiso. "i considered that my day of trial had arrived (for i was a little afraid of the old fellow, as every one else was). but the time had come for me at least to play the man: so i mustered up courage, and informed the captain that i desired the topsail filled away. he replied that he would shoot any man who dared to touch a rope without his orders; he 'would go his own course, and had no idea of trusting himself with a d--d nutshell;' and then he went below for his pistols. i called my right-hand man of the crew, and told him my situation; i also informed him that i wanted the main topsail filled. he answered with a clear 'ay, ay, sir!' in a manner which was not to be misunderstood, and my confidence was perfectly restored. from that moment i became master of the vessel, and immediately gave all necessary orders for making sail, notifying the captain not to come on deck with his pistols unless he wished to go overboard; for i would really have had very little trouble in having such an order obeyed." on the th of september, the squadron fell in with the "essex junior," which had come from valparaiso. lieut. downes reported that he had disposed of the prizes satisfactorily, and also brought news that the british frigate "phoebe," and the sloops-of-war "raccoon" and "cherub," had been ordered to cruise the pacific in search of the audacious "essex." more than this, he secured statistics regarding the fleet of british whalers in the pacific, that proved that porter had completely destroyed the industry, having left but one whaler uncaptured. there was then no immediate work for porter to do; and he determined to proceed with his squadron to the marquesas islands, and there lay up, to make needed repairs and alterations. the marquesas are a desolate group of rocky islands lying in the pacific ocean, on the western outskirts of oceanica. in formation they are volcanic, and rise in rugged mountain-peaks from the bosom of the great ocean. sea-fowl of all sorts abound; but none of the lower mammals are to be found on the island, save swine which were introduced by europeans. the people at the time of porter's visit were simple savages, who had seldom seen the face of a white man; for at that early day voyagers were few in the far-off pacific. the island first visited by the "essex" was known to the natives as rooahooga. here the frigate stopped for a few hours. during her stay, the water alongside was fairly alive with canoes and swimming natives. they were not allowed to come on board, but were immensely pleased by some fish-hooks and bits of iron let down to them from the decks of the frigate. not to be outdone in generosity, the islanders threw up to the sailors cocoanuts, fruits, and fish. a boat-crew of jackies that went ashore was surrounded by a smiling, chattering throng of men, women, and children, who cried out incessantly, "_taya, taya_" (friend, friend), and strove to bargain with them for fruits. they were a handsome, intelligent-looking people; tall, slender, and well formed, with handsome faces, and complexion little darker than that of a brunette. the men carried white fans, and wore bracelets of human hair, with necklaces of whales' teeth and shells about their necks,--their sole articles of clothing. both men and women were tattooed; though the women seemed to content themselves with bands about the neck and arms, while the men were elaborately decorated from head to foot. though some carried clubs and lances, they showed no signs of hostility, but bore themselves with that simple air of hospitality and unconscious innocence common to all savage peoples of tropical regions, uncorrupted by association with civilized white men. porter remained but a short time at this island, as its shallow bays afforded no safe anchorage for the vessels. but, charmed as he was with the friendly simplicity of the natives, he determined to remain some time in the vicinity, provided safe anchorage could be found. this essential was soon discovered at nookaheevah, where the ships cast anchor in a fine harbor, which porter straightway dubbed massachusetts bay. hardly had the ship anchored, when a canoe containing three white men came alongside, and was ordered away by the captain, who thought them deserters from some vessel. the canoe then returned to the shore, and the three whites were joined by a vast assemblage of armed natives. porter now began to fear lest he had offended the natives, and proceeded at once to the beach, with four boats well armed and manned. but, by the time the boats' prows grated upon the white sand, every native had disappeared; and the sole figure visible was that of a young man, who advanced, and, giving a formal naval salute, announced himself as midshipman john m. maury, u.s.n. porter was greatly surprised to find a midshipman in so strange a place; but the latter explained it by stating that he was on furlough, and had been left there by a merchant-vessel, which was to call for him. she had never returned, however, and he now hailed the "essex" as an opportunity for escape. a second white man, who then put in an appearance, naked and tattooed like an indian, proved to be an englishman who had been on the island for years, and who, by his knowledge of the language and character of the natives, proved of great assistance to the americans, during the long stay upon which capt. porter had determined. chapter xi. war with the savages. -- the campaign against the typees. -- departure from nookaheevah. -- the "essex" anchors at valparaiso -- arrival of the "phoebe" and "cherub." -- they capture the "essex." -- porter's encounter with the "saturn." -- the mutiny at nookaheevah. it was now the last of october, . capt. porter saw that the work he desired done upon the ships under his charge would occupy about six weeks, and he at once set about forming such relations of peace and amity with the natives as should enable him to procure the necessary supplies and prosecute his work unmolested. much to his dismay, he had hardly begun his diplomatic palaver with the chiefs, when he learned that to keep one tribe friendly he must fight its battles against all other tribes on the island. the natives of nookaheevah were then divided into a large number of tribal organizations. with three of these the americans were brought into contact,--the happahs, the taeehs, and the typees. the taeehs lived in the fertile valley about the bay in which the american squadron was anchored. with these people porter treated first, and made his appearance in their village in great state, being accompanied by the band, the marines, and several boats' crews of jackies. he was hospitably received by the natives, who crowded about to listen to the band, and wonder at the military precision of the marines, whom they regarded as supernatural beings. gattanewa, the chief, expressed his abounding love for the captain, and exchanged names with him, after the custom of the people; but ended by saying that the lawless happahs were at war with the taeehs, and the americans, to gain the friendship of the latter tribe, must make common cause with them against their enemies. to this porter demurred, but the wily chief thereupon brought forward a most conclusive argument. he said that the happahs had cursed his mother's bones; and that, as he and porter had exchanged names, that estimable woman was the captain's mother also, and the insult to her memory should be avenged. it is probable that even this argument might have proved unavailing, had not the happahs the next night descended upon the valley, and, having burned two hundred bread-fruit trees, departed, leaving word that the americans were cowards, and dared not follow them into their mountain fastnesses. porter saw that his food supplies were in danger from these vandals, and his knowledge of savage character convinced him that he could have no peace with any of the natives until the insolence of this tribe was punished. accordingly he notified the taeehs, that, if they would carry a gun to the top of one of the mountain peaks, he would send a party against the happahs. the taeehs eagerly agreed; and, after seeing the gun fired once or twice (a sight that set them fondling and kissing it, to show their reverence for so powerful a weapon), they set off up the steep mountain sides, tugging the gun after them. lieut. downes led the american forces. they had hardly reached the mountain tops, when the fighting began. the happahs were armed with spears, and with slings, from which they threw heavy stones with terrific velocity. they seemed to know no fear, and stood gallantly before the advancing americans, fairly darkening the air with clouds of stones and spears. the americans, though few in number,--forty, opposed to nearly four thousand savages,--pressed forward, suffering but little from the weapons of their foes. from the deck of his frigate in the bay, porter could see the steady advances of his forces, as they drove the happahs from peak to peak. before the americans a huge native strode along, waving wildly the american flag. the howitzer came in the rear, and was every now and then discharged, to drive the foe from some formidable stronghold. so ignorant of fire-arms were the enemy, that they had no idea of their power, often fighting until the muzzle of a musket was laid to their temples before the discharge. but before nightfall this warlike spirit was broken, and the victors returned to their ships, their native allies carrying five dead bodies slung on poles. two only of the americans were wounded. the next day happah ambassadors came to sue for peace; and soon every tribe on the island joined the alliance, save the typees, and a distant tribe that proudly bore the unpronounceable name of hatecaaheottwohos. for two or three weeks peace reigned undisturbed. work was pushed on the vessels. the rats with which the "essex" was infested were smoked out, an operation that necessitated the division of the crew between the shore and the other vessels. porter himself, with his officers, took up his quarters in a tent pitched on the shore. under some circumstances, such a change would have been rather pleasant than otherwise; but the rainy season had now come on, and the tent was little protection against the storms. noticing this, the natives volunteered to put up such buildings as the captain desired, and proceeded to do so in a most expeditious manner. at early dawn four thousand men set about the work, and by night had completed a walled village, containing a dwelling-house for the captain, another for his officers, a cooper's shop, hospital, bake-house, guard-house, and a shed for the sentinel to walk under. for their services the men received old nails, bits of iron hoop, and other metal scraps, with which they were highly delighted. the americans were then living on the terms of the most perfect friendship with the natives. many of the jackies had been taken into the families of the islanders, and all had formed most tender attachment for the beautiful island women; who, in their turn, were devoted to the "malleekees," who were such mighty men of war, and brought them such pretty presents of beads and whales' teeth. the americans entered into the celebrations and festivities of the islanders, watched their dances, joined their fishing expeditions, and soon were on the friendliest footing with their dusky hosts. [illustration: firing the howitzer.] but so pleasant and peaceful an existence was not destined to continue long. the typees, who inhabited the interior of the island, were beginning to stir up strife against the americans; and porter saw that their insolence must be crushed, or the whole native population would unite in war against him. but to begin a war with the typees was far from porter's wish. the way to their country lay over rugged precipices and through almost impenetrable jungles. the light-footed natives could easily enough scale the peaks, or thread the forests; but to porter's sailors it would be an exhausting undertaking. no artillery could be taken into the field, and the immense number of natives that might be arrayed against the sailors made the success of the expedition very uncertain. porter, therefore, determined to try to adjust the difficulty amicably, and with this purpose sent an ambassador to the typees, proposing a peaceful alliance. the reply of the natives is an amusing example of the ignorant vainglory of savage tribes, unacquainted with the power of civilized peoples. the typees saw no reason to desire the friendship of the americans. they had always got along very well without it. they had no intention of sending hogs or fruit to sell to the americans. if the americans wanted supplies, let them come and take them. the americans were cowards, white lizards, and mere dirt. the sailors were weaklings, who could not climb the nookaheevan hills without aid from the natives. this, and much more of the same sort, was the answer of the typees to porter's friendly overtures. this left no course open to the americans save to chastise the insolent barbarians. the departure of the expedition was, however, delayed until a fort could be built for the protection of the american village. this work, a sand-bag battery, calculated to mount sixteen guns, was completed on the th of november, and preparations for the expedition were then begun. and, indeed, it was time that the americans showed that they were not to be insulted with impunity. already the taeehs and happahs were beginning to wonder at the delay, and rumors spread about the village that the whites were really the cowards for which the typees took them. one man, a chief among the happahs, was rash enough to call porter a coward to his face; whereat the choleric captain seized a gun, and, rushing for the offender, soon brought him to his knees, the muzzle of the weapon against his head, begging for mercy. that man was ever after porter's most able ally among the natives. the preparations for war with the typees were completed, and the expedition was about to set out, when a new difficulty arose, this time among the white men. first, a plot was discovered among the british prisoners for the recapture of the "essex junior." their plan was to get the crew drunk, by means of drugged rum, and then rise, seize the vessel, and make off while the american forces were absent on the typee expedition. this plot, being discovered, was easily defeated; and the leaders were put in irons. then porter discovered that disaffection had spread among his crew, which, for a time, threatened serious consequences. but this danger was averted by the captain's manly actions and words, which brought the jackies to his side as one man. on the th of november the long-deferred expedition against the typees left the snug quarters on the shore of massachusetts bay. the expedition went by sea, skirting the shore of the island, until a suitable landing-place near the territory of the hostile tribe was reached. the "essex junior" led the way, followed by five boats full of men, and ten war-canoes filled with natives, who kept up an unearthly din with discordant conches. when the forces landed, the friendly natives were seen to number at least five thousand men; while of the americans, thirty-five, under the command of capt. porter, were considered enough for the work in hand. from the time the fighting began, the friendly natives kept carefully in the rear, and seemed to be only waiting to aid the victors, whether they should be americans or typees. capt. porter and his followers, upon landing, sat down upon the beach for breakfast; but their repast was rudely disturbed by a shower of stones from an ambuscade of typees in the edge of the wood. stopping but a moment to finish their food, the jackies picked up their cutlasses and muskets, and started for the enemy. they were soon in the shady recesses of the tropical forest, but not a typee was to be seen. that the enemy was there, however, was amply attested by the hail of stones that fell among the invaders, and the snapping of slings that could be heard on all sides. this was a kind of fighting to which the sailors were not accustomed; and for a moment they wavered, but were cheered on by their brave leader, and, pushing through the woods, came to a clearing on the banks of a narrow river. but here a sad disaster befell them in the loss of lieut. downes, whose ankle was broken by a stone. he was sent back to the ship, with an escort of five men; and the party, thus reduced to twenty-nine, forded the river, and scaled its high bank, cheering lustily, under a heavy fire from the typees, who made a dogged stand on the farther shore. by this time, the last of their savage allies had disappeared. the advance of the americans was now checked by a jungle of such rank underbrush that the cutlasses of the men made no impression upon it; and they were forced to crawl forward on their hands and knees, under a constant fire from the enemy. from this maze, they burst out upon a clearing, and, looking about them, saw no sign of their savage foes, who had suddenly vanished. the solution of this mystery was soon discovered. after marching a few rods totally unmolested, a sudden turn in the path brought the americans in sight of a formidable stone fortress, perched on a hill commanding the road, and flanked on either side by dense jungles. the wall of the fortress was of stone, seven feet high; and from it, and from the thickets on either side, came such demoniac yells, and such showers of stones, as convinced the americans that they were in front of the typee stronghold. for a time the invaders seemed in danger of annihilation. they were totally unprotected, and flanked by concealed foes, whose missiles were plunging down upon them with deadly effect. some few secured places behind trees, and began a musketry fire; but the alarming cry soon arose that the ammunition was exhausted. five men were immediately despatched to the beach for more cartridges, while the few remaining determined to hold their position at any cost. but to this determination they were unable to adhere. had the typees charged, the whole american force would have been swept away like driftwood before a springtime flood. but the savages neglected their opportunity; and the americans first gained the protection of the bushes, then fell back across the river, and so to the beach. here a council of war was held. they had been beaten back by savages; enormously outnumbered, to be sure, but still opposed by undisciplined warriors armed with rude weapons. the stain of that defeat must be washed out by a victory. upon one point, all were agreed. the happahs had played them false by leading them over the most dangerous roads, and into ambuscades of the enemy. to such treacherous guides, they would not again trust themselves. before he again led his men to battle, porter wished to try diplomacy. although he knew that he had been beaten in the engagement, it would never do to confess defeat before so many savages (for the taeehs and happahs were now swarming about him, discussing the fight). accordingly a messenger was sent to tell the typees that a handful of white men had driven them into their fort, killing and wounding many. now a large re-enforcement of white men was on the beach, ready to drive them from their valley, but that if they would sue for peace they might yet save their lives and their villages. at this the typees laughed. "tell opotee," said they, "that we have plenty of men to spare; while his men are few. we have killed his chief warrior, and wounded many of his people. we are not afraid of his _bouhies_ [muskets]: they often miss fire, and, when they wound, don't hurt much. if the malleekees can drive us from our valley, why don't they come and do it?--not stay on the beach and talk." when porter received this letter, he knew that he must again take the field against the typees, or his half-hearted allies would abandon him and join his foes, giving him endless trouble, and putting a stop to the refitting of the ships in massachusetts bay. he now understood the power of his foes, and accordingly chose two hundred men to go with him on the second expedition. he also determined to leave behind the friendly savages, whose friendship was a very doubtful quality. the forces left the beach that very night, and began their weary march up the mountain-side. it was bright moonlight; so that the narrow mountain paths, the fearful precipices, the tangled jungles, and the swamps and rivers were visible to the marching column. by midnight the americans found themselves perched on the summit of a rocky peak overlooking the typee valley, from which arose sounds of drum-beating, singing, and loud shouts of revelry. the guides who had led the american column said that the savages were rejoicing over their triumph, and were calling upon their gods to send rain and spoil the "malleekees' _bouhies_." porter knew the time was ripe for a surprise, and the men were eager to be led against the enemy; but the guides protested that no mortal men could descend the path leading to the typee village, at night, so precipitous was the descent. the americans were therefore forced to wait patiently until morning. throwing themselves on the ground, the weary sailors were soon asleep, but were waked up in an hour by a heavy burst of rain. they saw the rain falling in sheets, and the sky banked with black clouds that gave little hope of a stoppage. from the valley below rose the triumphant yells of the typees, who were convinced that their gods had sent the shower to spoil the white men's weapons. and, indeed, the floods poured down as though sent for that very service; so that at daybreak the americans found that more than half their powder was spoiled. to make matters worse, the precipitous path leading down into the valley was so slippery that it would have been madness to attempt the descent. accordingly porter determined to retreat to the happah village, and there wait for better weather. before falling back, however, he ordered a volley fired, to show the savages that the fire-arms were not yet useless. the noise of the volley was the first intimation to the typees that the americans were so near them, and their village was at once thrown into the direst confusion. cries of surprise mingled with the beating of drums, the blowing of horns, the shrieks of women and children, and the squealing of pigs being driven to places of safety. in the midst of the tumult the americans retired to the happah village, where they spent the remainder of that day and the following night. the next morning dawned bright and cool after the rain; and the americans sallied forth, determined to end this annoying affray in short order. they soon reached their former station on the cliffs, and, looking down upon the typee territory, saw a beautiful valley, cut up by stone walls into highly cultivated farms, and dotted with picturesque villages. but though their hearts may have been softened by the sight of so lovely a spot, so soon to be laid desolate, they were soon nerved to their work by a party of typees, who were posted on the farther bank of a river that skirted the base of the cliff, and were calling out to the americans, calling them cowards, and daring them to come down and fight. porter gave the command; and the jackies were soon clambering down the cliffs, in the face of a rapid fire from their enemies. the bank of the river once gained, the americans halted to rest for a few minutes, and then, fording the stream, pushed forward straight for the nearest village. the typees hung upon the flank of the advancing column; now and then making fierce charges but always beaten back with severe losses. the sailors suffered but little, and were soon in possession of the village, behind the walls of which the main body halted, while scouting parties were sent out to reconnoitre. after a short halt at this point, the invaders pushed forward to the next village, and so on up the valley, burning each village as soon as it was captured. undismayed by their continued reverses, the typees fought doggedly, scornfully refusing to listen to the peaceful overtures made by the american commander. after marching three or four miles, and fighting for every foot of the way, the americans found themselves before an extensive village, which, from its size, and the strength of its fortifications, was evidently the typee capital. here the savages made a last determined stand, but to no avail. the americans poured over the wall, and were soon in possession of the town. the beauty of the village, the regularity of its streets, and the air of comfort and civilization everywhere apparent, made it hard for porter to give the fateful order that should commit all to the flames. but his duty was clear, and the order was given. leaving the blazing capital behind them, the sailors retraced their steps to the ships, having completed the devastation of the valley that a day before was so peaceful, fertile, and lovely. the spirit of the typees was thoroughly broken by this crushing blow; and for the next few days the ships were besieged by ambassadors from all the island tribes, begging for peace. feeling assured that he should have no further trouble with the natives, porter now exerted all his energies to complete the repairs on the ships, that he might again take the sea. so rapidly did the work progress, that by the th of december the "essex" and "essex junior" were refitted, and stocked with fresh provisions of hogs, cocoanuts, and bananas; the "new zealander," loaded with oil from the other prizes, was ordered to proceed to new york; while the "greenwich," "seringapatam," and "hammond" were to remain at the islands until the "essex" should return for them. these arrangements being made, the war-ships made ready to depart. but now arose a difficulty, ludicrous in its cause, but which threatened to be serious in its effects. the ships had been lying in harbor for about two months; and during that time the sailors, with unlimited shore liberty, had made such ties as bound them closely to the native people. the young girls of the islands, with their comely faces and fair complexions, had played sad havoc with the hearts of the gallant tars of the "essex;" and deep was the grumbling among the sailors when they heard that the time had come for them to bid farewell to their sweethearts. no openly mutinous demonstration was made; but so old a commander could not overlook the fact that some disaffection existed among his crew, and a little investigation disclosed the trouble. there could be no half-way measures adopted in the case, and porter at once gave orders that all further intercourse with the shore should cease. that very night three sailors slipped into the sea, and swam ashore to meet their sweethearts; but the wily captain had stationed a patrol upon the beach, and the three luckless leanders were sent back to the ship in irons. all the next day the native girls lined the shore of the bay, and with pleading gestures besought the captain to let the sailors come ashore, but to no avail. some fair maidens even swam off to the ship, but were gruffly ordered away by the officers. all this was very tantalizing to the men, who hung over the bulwarks, looking at the fair objects of their adoration. but one man only showed signs of rebellion against the captain's authority; and porter, calling him out before the crew, rebuked him, and sent him ashore in a native canoe: while the rest of the jackies sprang into the rigging, set the canvas, and the ship soon left the island, with its sorrowing nymphs, far in her wake. the two vessels turned their heads toward valparaiso, and made the port after an uneventful voyage of fifty-six days. the frigate entered the harbor at once, and cast anchor; while the "essex junior" was ordered to cruise about outside, keeping a close watch for the enemy's ships. the friendship of the people of the town seemed as great as during the first visit of the frigate to the port; and a series of entertainments was begun, that culminated in a grand ball upon the "essex" on the night of the th of february, . for that one night the officers of the "essex junior" were absolved from their weary duty of patrolling the sea at the mouth of the harbor. the vessel was anchored at a point that commanded a view of the ocean; and her officers, arrayed in the splendor of full dress, betook themselves on board of the frigate. at midnight, after an evening of dancing and gayety, lieut. downes left the "essex," and returned to his vessel, which immediately weighed anchor and put to sea. the festivities on the frigate continued a little time longer; and then, the last ladies having been handed down the gangway, and pulled ashore, the work of clearing away the decorations began. while the ship's decks were still strewn with flags and flowers, while the awnings still stretched from stem to stern, and the hundreds of gay lanterns still hung in the rigging, the "essex junior" was seen coming into the harbor with a signal flying. the signal quartermaster rushed for his book, and soon announced that the flags read, "two enemy's ships in sight." at this moment more than half the crew of the "essex" were on shore; but a signal set at the ship's side recalled the men, and in an hour and a half the ship was ready for action; while the "essex junior" cast anchor in a supporting position. the two strange vessels were the "cherub" and the "phoebe," british men-of-war. they rounded into the harbor about eight a.m., and bore down towards the american ships. the "phoebe," the larger of the two englishmen, drew close to the "essex;" and her commander, capt. hillyar, sprang upon the taffrail, and asked after capt. porter's health. porter responded courteously; and, noticing that the "phoebe" was coming closer than the customs of war-vessels in a neutral port permitted, warned the englishman to keep his distance, or trouble would result. hillyar protested that he meant no harm, but nevertheless continued his advance until the two ships were almost fouled. porter called the boarders to the bow; and they crowded forward, armed to the teeth, and stripped for the fight. the "phoebe" was in such a position that she lay entirely at the mercy of the "essex," and could not bring a gun to bear in her own defence. hillyar, from his position on the taffrail, could see the american boarders ready to spring at the word of command, and the muzzles of the cannon ready to blow the ship out of water. there is little doubt that he was astonished to find the "essex" so well prepared for the fray, for he had been told that more than half her crew had gone ashore. relying upon this information, he had probably planned to capture the "essex" at her moorings, regardless of the neutrality of the port. but he had now brought himself into a dangerous position, and porter would have been justified in opening fire at once. but the apologies and protestations of the british captain disarmed him, and he unwisely let the "phoebe" proceed unmolested. in his journal, farragut thus describes this incident: "we were all at quarters, and cleared for action, waiting with breathless anxiety for the command from capt. porter to board, when the english captain appeared, standing on the after-gun, in a pea-jacket, and in plain hearing said,-- "'capt. hillyar's compliments to capt. porter, and hopes he is well.' "porter replied, 'very well, i thank you. but i hope you will not come too near, for fear some accident might take place which would be disagreeable to you.' and, with a wave of his trumpet, the kedge-anchors went up to our yard-arms, ready to grapple the enemy. "capt. hillyar braced back his yards, and remarked to porter, that, if he did fall aboard him, he begged to assure the captain that it would be entirely accidental. "'well,' said porter, 'you have no business where you are. if you touch a rope-yarn of this ship, i shall board instantly.'" notwithstanding porter's forbearance, the incident came near leading to a battle, through the action of one of the crew, who had come off from shore with his brain rather hazy from heavy drinking. this man was standing by a gun, with a lighted brand in his hand, ready to fire the piece, when he thought he saw an englishman grinning at him through one of the open ports of the "phoebe." highly enraged, he shouted out, "my fine fellow, i'll soon stop your making faces!" and reached out to fire the gun; when a heavy blow from an officer, who saw the action, stretched him on the deck. had that gun been fired, nothing could have saved the "phoebe." the two hostile ships cast anchor within long gunshot of the americans, and seemed prepared for a long season in port. for the next few weeks the british and american officers and seamen met frequently on shore; and a kind of friendship sprang up between them, although they were merely waiting for a favorable moment to begin a deadly strife. some incidents, however, took place which rather disturbed the amicable relations of the two parties. at the masthead of the "essex" floated a flag bearing the motto, "free trade and sailors' rights." this flag gave great offence to the british, who soon displayed a flag with the inscription, "god and country, british sailors' best rights. traitors offend both." to this americans responded with, "god, our country and liberty. tyrants offend them." here the debate closed, and seemed to arouse no unfriendly feeling; for porter and hillyar talked it over amicably on shore. in the course of this conversation, porter challenged the "phoebe" to meet the "essex" alone; but hillyar declined the proposition. shortly after this, the crews of the hostile ships began the practice of singing songs _at_ each other; the americans beginning with "yankee doodle," while the british retorted with "god save the king." then the poets of the forecastle set to work, and ground out verses that would prove particularly obnoxious to the enemy. one of the american songs recited at full length the capture of the "guerriere." the character of the poetry may be judged by the first verse. "ye tars of our country, who seek on the main the cause for the wrongs your country sustain, rejoice and be merry, for bragging john bull has got a sound drubbing from brave capt. hull." the british responded with triumphant verses upon the capture of the "chesapeake," news of which had just reached valparaiso. their poetry was quite as bad. "brave broke he waved his sword, and he cried, 'now, lads, aboard; and we'll stop their singing, yankee doodle dandy, o!'" porter now wished to get rid of some of the prizes with which he was encumbered. he could not burn them in the harbor, and the british ships kept too close a watch upon him to permit his ships to leave the harbor for an hour: so he was forced to wait many days for an opportunity. on the th of february the opportunity came; and the "hector" was towed out to sea, and set a-fire. two weeks later, the "phoebe" came alone to the mouth of the harbor, and, after showing her motto-flag, hove to, and fired a gun to windward. this porter understood to be a challenge, and he at once put out in the "essex." but the "phoebe" had no intention of entering a fair and equal fight; for she quickly joined her consort, and the two then chased the "essex" back to port. much talk and a vast deal of correspondence grew out of this affair, which certainly did not redound to the credit of the british. on the th of march the wind blew with such force that the larboard cable of the "essex" parted; and the ship, drifting before the wind, dragged her starboard cable out to sea. knowing that the british ships were in waiting outside, porter lost no time in getting on sail and trying to beat back into the harbor. but, just as the ship was rounding the point, there came up a heavy squall, which carried away the main topmast, throwing several topmen into the sea. in her disabled state the frigate could not regain the harbor; but she ran into a little cove, and anchored within half pistol-shot of the shore. here she was in neutral waters; and, had capt. hillyar been a man of his word, the "essex" would have been safe: for that officer, on being asked by porter whether he would respect the neutrality of the port, had replied with much feeling, "you have paid so much respect to the neutrality of the port, that i feel bound in honor to respect it." but he very quickly forgot this respect, when he saw his enemy lying crippled and in his power, although in neutral waters. hardly had the "essex" cast anchor, when the two british ships drew near, their actions plainly showing that they intended to attack the crippled frigate. the "essex" was prepared for action, the guns beat to quarters; and the men went to their places coolly and bravely, though each felt at his heart that he was going into a hopeless fight. the midshipmen had hardly finished calling over the quarter-lists, to see that every man was at his station, when the roar of the cannon from the british ships announced the opening of the action. the "phoebe" had taken up a position under the stern of the american frigate, and pounded away with her long eighteens; while the "essex" could hardly get a gun to bear in return. the "cherub" tried her fortune on the bow, but was soon driven from that position, and joined her consort. the two kept up a destructive fire, until porter got three long guns out of the cabin-windows, and drove the enemy away. after repairing damages, the british took up a position just out of range of the "essex's" carronades, and began a rapid and effective fire from their long eighteens. such an action as this was very trying to the crew of the "essex." the carronades against which porter had protested when his ship was armed were utterly useless against an enemy who used such cautious tactics. on the deck of the frigate men were falling on every side. one shot entered a port, and killed four men who stood at a gun, taking off the heads of the last two. the crash and roar of the flying shots were incessant. as the guns became crippled for lack of men, the junior officers took a hand in all positions. farragut writes, "i performed the duty of captain's aid, quarter-gunner, powder-boy, and, in fact, did every thing that was required of me.... when my services were not required for other purposes, i generally assisted in working a gun; would run and bring powder from the boys, and send them back for more, until the captain wanted me to carry a message; and this continued to occupy me during the action." once during the action a midshipman came running up to porter, and reported that a gunner had deserted his post. porter's reply was to turn to farragut (the lad was only twelve years old), and say, "do your duty, sir." the boy seized a pistol, and ran away to find the coward, and shoot him in his tracks. but the gunner had slipped overboard, and made his way to the shore, and so escaped. after the "essex" had for some time suffered from the long-range fire of the enemy, capt. porter determined to make sail, and try to close with his foes. the rigging had been so badly shot away that the flying jib was the only sail that could be properly set. with this, and with the other sails hanging loose from the yards, the "essex" ran down upon the british, and made such lively play with her carronades, that the "cherub" was forced to haul off for repairs, and the tide of war seemed to be setting in favor of the americans. but, though the gallant blue-jackets fought with desperation, their chances for success were small. the decks were strewn with dead, the cock-pit was full, and the enemy's shot were constantly adding to the number of dead and dying. young farragut, who had been sent below after some gun-primers, was coming up the ladder, when a man standing at the opening of the hatchway was struck full in the face by a cannon-ball, and fell back, carrying the lad with him. the mutilated body fell full upon the boy, who lay for a time unconscious; then, jumping to his feet, ran, covered with blood, to the quarter-deck. capt. porter saw him, and asked if he was wounded. "i believe not, sir," answered the midshipman. "then," said the captain, "where are the primers?" farragut remembered his errand, and dashed below to execute it. when he emerged the second time, he saw the captain (his adopted father) fall, and running up asked if he was wounded. "i believe not, my son," was the response; "but i felt a blow on the top of my head." he had probably been knocked down by the wind of a passing shot. but the end of the action was now near. dreadful havoc had been made in the ranks of both officers and men. the cock-pit would hold no more wounded; and the shots were beginning to penetrate its walls, killing the sufferers waiting for the surgeon's knife. lieut. mcknight was the only commissioned officer on duty. the ship had been several times on fire, and the magazine was endangered. finally, the carpenter reported that her bottom was so cut up that she could float but a little while longer. on learning this, porter gave the order for the colors to be hauled down, which was done. the enemy, however, kept up their deadly fire for ten minutes after the "essex" had struck. david farragut narrates some interesting incidents of the surrender. he was sent by the captain to find and destroy the signal book before the british should come aboard; and, this having been done, he went to the cock-pit to look after his friends. here he found lieut. cornell terribly wounded. when farragut spoke to him, he said, "o davy, i fear it's all up with me!" and died soon after. the doctor said, that, had this officer been operated upon an hour before, his life might have been saved; but when the surgeons proposed to drop another man, and attend to him, he replied, "no, no, doctor, none of that. fair play's a jewel. one man's life is as dear as another's; i would not cheat any poor fellow out of his turn." surely history nowhere records more noble generosity. soon after this, when farragut was standing on the deck, a little negro boy came running up to inquire about his master, lieut. wilmer, who had been knocked over by a shot. on learning his master's fate, he leaped over the taffrail into the sea, and was drowned. after the "essex" had been formally surrendered, boats were sent to convey the prisoners to the british ships. in one of these farragut was carried to the "phoebe," and there fell into a second battle, in which the victory remained with him. "i was so mortified at our capture that i could not refrain from tears," he writes. "while in this uncomfortable state, i was aroused by hearing a young reefer call out,-- "'a prize! a prize! ho, boys, a fine grunter, by jove.' "i saw at once that he had under his arm a pet pig belonging to our ship, called 'murphy.' i claimed the animal as my own. "'ah,' said he, 'but you are a prisoner, and your pig also!' "'we always respect private property,' i replied; and, as i had seized hold of 'murphy,' i determined not to let go unless 'compelled by superior force.' "this was fun for the oldsters, who immediately sung out,-- "'go it, my little yankee. if you can thrash shorty, you can have your pig.' "'agreed,' cried i. "a ring was formed in an open space, and at it we went. i soon found that my antagonist's pugilistic education did not come up to mine. in fact, he was no match for me, and was compelled to give up the pig. so i took master murphy under my arm, feeling that i had in some degree wiped out the disgrace of the defeat." when the british ships with their prize returned to the quiet waters of the harbor, and began to take account of damages, it was found that the "essex" had indeed fought a losing fight. on the "phoebe," but four men were killed, and seven wounded; on the "cherub," one killed and three wounded, made up the list of casualties. but on the "essex" were fifty-eight killed, and sixty-six wounded; while an immense number of men were missing, who may have escaped to the shore or may have sunk beneath the waves. certain it is some swimmers reached shore, though sorely wounded. one man had rushed on deck with his clothing all aflame, and swam ashore, though scarcely a square inch could be found on his body which was not burned. another seaman had sixteen or eighteen scales of iron chipped from the muzzle of his gun driven into his legs, yet he reached the shore in safety. after some delay, the "essex junior" was disarmed; and the prisoners, having given their paroles, were placed on board her, with a letter of safe-conduct from capt. hillyar to prevent their capture by any british man-of-war in whose path they might fall. but this letter availed them little; for, after an uneventful voyage to the northward, the "essex junior" found herself brought to by a shot from the british frigate "saturn," off sandy hook. the boarding-officer took capt. hillyar's letter to the commander of the "saturn," who remarked that hillyar had no authority to make any such agreement, and ordered the "essex junior" to remain all night under the lee of the british ship. capt. porter was highly indignant, and handed his sword to the british officer, saying that he considered himself a prisoner. but the englishman declined the sword, and was about to return to his ship, when porter said, "tell the captain that i am his prisoner, and do not consider myself any longer bound by my contract with capt. hillyar, which he has violated; and i shall act accordingly." by this porter meant that he now considered himself absolved from his parole, and free to escape honorably if an opportunity should offer. accordingly at seven o'clock the following morning, a boat was stealthily lowered from the "essex junior;" and porter, descending into it, started for the shore, leaving a message, that, since british officers showed so little regard for each other's honor, he had no desire to trust himself in their hands. the boat had gone some distance before she was sighted by the lookout on the "saturn," for the hull of the "essex junior" hid her from sight. as soon as the flight was noticed, the frigate made sail in chase, and seemed likely to overhaul the audacious fugitives, when a thick fog set in, under cover of which porter reached babylon, l.i., nearly sixty miles distant. in the mean time, the "essex junior," finding herself hidden from the frigate by the fog-bank, set sail, and made for the mouth of the harbor. she was running some nine knots an hour when the fog showed signs of lifting; and she came up into the wind, that the suspicion of the british might not be aroused. as it happened, the "saturn" was close alongside when the fog lifted, and her boat soon came to the american ship. an officer, evidently very irate, bounded upon the deck, and said brusquely,-- "you must have been drifting very fast. we have been making nine knots an hour, and yet here you are alongside." "so it appears," responded the american lieutenant coolly. "we saw a boat leave you, some time ago," continued the englishman. "i suppose capt. porter went in it?" "yes. you are quite right." "and probably more of you will run away, unless i cut away your boats from the davits." "perhaps that would be a good plan for you to adopt." "and i would do it very quickly, if the question rested with me." "you infernal puppy," shouted the american officer, now thoroughly aroused, "if you have any duty to do, do it; but, if you insult me further, i'll throw you overboard!" with a few inarticulate sounds, the englishman stepped into his boat, and was pulled back to the "saturn," whence soon returned a second boat, bearing an apology for the boarding-officer's rudeness. the boarders then searched all parts of the ship, mustered her crew on the plea that it contained british deserters, and finally released her, after having inflicted every possible humiliation upon her officers. the "essex junior" then proceeded to new york, where she was soon joined by capt. porter. the whole country united in doing honor to the officers, overlooking the defeat which closed their cruise, and regarding only the persistent bravery with which they had upheld the cause of the united states in the far-off waters of the pacific. before closing the account of porter's famous cruise, the story of the ill-fortune which befell lieut. gamble should be related. this officer, it will be remembered, was left at nookaheevah with the prizes "greenwich," "seringapatam," and "hammond." hardly had the frigate disappeared below the horizon, when the natives began to grow unruly; and gamble was forced to lead several armed expeditions against them. then the sailors under his charge began to show signs of mutiny. he found himself almost without means of enforcing his authority, and the disaffection spread daily. the natives, incited by the half-savage englishman who had been found upon the island, began to make depredations upon the live-stock; while the women would swim out to the ships by night, and purloin bread, aided by their lovers among the crews. to the lieutenant's remonstrances, the natives replied that "opotee" was not coming back, and they would do as they chose; while the sailors heard his orders with ill-concealed contempt, and made but a pretext of obeying them. in the middle of april three sailors stole a boat from the "greenwich," and, stocking it well with ammunition and provisions, deserted, and were never again seen. one month later, mutiny broke out in its worst form. lieut. gamble and his two midshipmen, being upon the "seringapatam," were knocked down by the sailors, gagged, bound, and thrust into the hold. the mutineers then went ashore, spiked the guns in the fort, and then, hoisting the british colors over the captured ship, set sail. lieut. gamble was badly wounded in the foot by a pistol-shot fired by one of his guards. notwithstanding his wound, he, with the two lieutenants and two loyal seamen, was turned adrift in an open boat. after long and painful exertions, they reached the shore, and returned to the bay, where the "greenwich" still lay at anchor. the mutineers, thirteen of whom were englishmen who had enlisted in the american service, steered boldly out to sea, and were nevermore heard of. the half-savage englishman, wilson, was supposed to be at the bottom of this uprising, and some days later a boat's crew from the "greenwich" went ashore to capture him. soon after, gamble, anxiously watching the shore, saw a struggle upon the beach, the natives rushing down on all sides, the boat overturned in the surf, and two white men swimming towards the ship, making signals of distress. mr. clapp, with two men, sprang into a boat, and put off to the aid of the swimmers, leaving gamble alone on the ship. two large canoes loaded with savages then left the beach, and swiftly bore down towards the "essex;" but gamble, lamed though he was, seized a lighted brand, and hobbled along the deck of the ship, firing her guns with such effect that the savages were driven back, the beach cleared, and mr. clapp enabled to save the two struggling men. when the boat returned to the ship, it was learned that midshipman feltus and five men had been basely murdered by the savages. there were now left but seven americans; and of these but two were well, and fit for duty. setting the "greenwich" on fire, this little band boarded the "hammond," and made their way to sea. but between the sandwich islands and honolulu they fell in with the "cherub," by whom they were captured, and kept prisoners for nine months, when, peace being declared, they were released. so ended the last incident of the gallant cruise of the "essex." history has few more adventurous tales to relate. ============================================================== this work is licensed under a creative commons attribution . unported license, http://creativecommons.org/ ============================================================== [illustration: cover art] caribbee barbados, . the lush and deadly caribbean paradise, domain of rebels and freeholders, of brigands, bawds and buccaneers. caribbee is the untold story of the first american revolution, as english colonists pen a declaration of _defiance_ ("liberty" or "death") against parliament and fight a full-scale war for freedom against an english fleet--with cannon, militia, many lives lost--over a century before . an assured, literate saga, the novel is brimming with the rough and tumble characters who populated the early american colonies. the powerful story line, based on actual events, also puts the reader in the midst of the first major english slave auction in the americas, and the first slave revolt. we see how plantation slavery was introduced into the english colonies, setting a cruel model for north america a few decades later, and we experience what it was like to be a west african ripped from a rich culture and forced to slave in the fields of the new world. we also see the unleashed greed of the early puritans, who burned unruly slaves alive, a far different truth from that presented in sanitized history books. finally, we witness how slavery contributed to the failure of the first american revolution, as well as to the destruction of england's hope for a vast new world empire. we also are present at the birth of the buccaneers, one-time cattle hunters who banded together to revenge a bloody spanish attack on their home, and soon became the most feared marauders in the new world. the story is mythic in scope, with the main participants being classic american archetypes--a retelling of the great american quest for freedom and honor. the major characters are based on real individuals, men and women who came west to the new world to seek fortune and personal dignity. publisher's weekly said, "this action-crammed, historically factual novel . . . is a rousing read about the bad old marauding days, ably researched by hoover." "action-crammed, historically factual ... a rousing read" -publishers weekly "meticulous . . . compelling" --kirkus reviews "it should establish thomas hoover in the front rank of writers of historical fiction" --malcolm bosse author of the warlord books by thomas hoover nonfiction zen culture the zen experience fiction the moghul caribbee wall street _samurai_ (the _samurai_ strategy) project daedalus project cyclops life blood syndrome all free as e-books at www.thomashoover.info zebra books are published by kensington publishing corp. park avenue south new york, ny copyright © by thomas hoover. published by arrangement with doubleday and co., inc. all rights reserved. no part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews. first zebra books printing: december printed in the united states of america key words: author: thomas hoover title: caribbee slavery, slaves, caribbean, sugar, buccaneers, pirates, barbados, jamaica, spanish gold, spanish empire, port royal, barbados www.thomashoover.info [illustration: map of the west indies in the seventeenth century] author's note by the middle of the seventeenth century, almost a hundred thousand english men and women had settled in the new world. we sometimes forget that the largest colony across the atlantic in those early years was not in virginia, not in new england, but on the small eastern islands of the caribbean, called the caribbees. early existence in the caribbean was brutal, and at first these immigrants struggled merely to survive. then, through an act of international espionage, they stole a secret industrial process from the catholic countries that gave them the key to unimagined wealth. the scheme these pious puritans used to realize their earthly fortune required that they also install a special new attitude: only certain peoples may claim full humanity. their profits bequeathed a mortgage to america of untold future costs. the caribbean shown here was a dumping ground for outcasts and adventurers from many nations, truly a cockpit of violence, greed, drunkenness, piracy, and voodoo. even so, its english colonists penned a declaration of independence and fought a revolutionary war with their homeland over a hundred years before the north american settlements. had they respected the rights of mankind to the same degree they espoused them, the face of modern america might have been very different. the men and women in this story include many actual and composite individuals, and its scope is faithful to the larger events of that age, though time has been compressed somewhat to allow a continuous narrative. to liberty and justice for all. the caribbean the men had six canoes in all, wide tree trunks hollowed out by burning away the heart, indian style. they carried axes and long-barreled muskets, and all save one were bare to the waist, with breeches and boots patched together from uncured hides. by profession they were roving hunters, forest incarnations of an older world, and their backs and bearded faces, earth brown from the sun, were smeared with pig fat to repel the swarms of tropical insects. after launching from their settlement at tortuga, off northern hispaniola, they headed toward a chain of tiny islands sprawling across the approach to the windward passage, route of the spanish _galeones_ inbound for veracruz. their destination was the easterly cape of the grand caicos, a known spanish stopover, where the yearly fleet always put in to re-provision after its long atlantic voyage. preparations began as soon as they waded ashore. first they beached the dugouts and camouflaged them with leafy brush. next they axed down several trees in a grove back away from the water, chopped them into short green logs, and dragged these down to the shore to assemble a pyre. finally, they patched together banana leaf _ajoupa_ huts in the cleared area. experienced woodsmen, they knew well how to live off the land while waiting. the first day passed with nothing. through a cloudless sky the sun scorched the empty sand for long hours, then dropped into the vacant sea. that night lightning played across thunderheads towering above the main island, and around midnight their _ajoupas_ were soaked by rain. then, in the first light of the morning, while dense fog still mantled the shallow banks to the west, they spotted a ship. it was a single frigate, small enough that there would be only a handful of cannon on the upper deck. jacques le basque, the dense-bearded bear of a man who was their leader, declared in his guttural french that this was a historic moment, one to be savored, and passed a dark onion-flask of brandy among the men. now would begin their long-planned campaign of revenge against the spaniards, whose infantry from santo domingo had once burned out their settlement, murdered innocents. it was, he said, the start of a new life for them all. all that remained was to bait the trap. two of the hunters retrieved a bucket of fat from the _ajoupas _and ladled it onto the green firewood. another scattered the flask's remaining liquor over the top of the wood, then dashed it against a heavy log for luck. finally, while the men carefully checked the prime on their broad-gauge hunting muskets, le basque struck a flint to the pyre. the green wood sputtered indecisively, then crackled alive, sending a gray plume skyward through the damp morning air. jacques circled the fire triumphantly, his dark eyes reflecting back the blaze, before ordering the men to ready their dugouts in the brushy camouflage along the shore. as they moved to comply, he caught the sleeve of a young englishman who was with them and beckoned him back. "anglais, _attendez ici_. i want you here beside me. the first shot must count." the young man had been part of their band for almost five years and was agreed to be their best marksman, no slight honor among men who lived by stalking wild cattle in the forest. unlike the others he carried no musket this morning, only a long flintlock pistol wedged into his belt. in the flickering light, he looked scarcely more than twenty, his face not yet showing the hard desperation of the others. his hair was sandy rust and neatly trimmed; and he alone among them wore no animal hides-- his doublet was clearly an english cut, though some years out of fashion, and his sweat-soiled breeches had once been fine canvas. even his boots, now weathered and cracked from salt, might years before have belonged to a young cavalier in covent garden. he moved to help jacques stoke the fire and pile on more green limbs. though the blaze and its plume should have been easily visible to the passing frigate by now, the sleepy lookout seemed almost to fail to notice. the ship had all but passed them by before garbled shouts from its maintop finally sounded over the foggy waters. next came a jumble of orders from the quarterdeck, and moments later the vessel veered, its bow turning into the wind, the mainsail quickly being trimmed. as it steered into the bay, jacques slapped at the buzzing gnats around them and yelled out a spanish plea that they were marooned seamen, near death. as he examined the frigate through the morning fog, he grunted to himself that she was small, barely a hundred tons, scarcely the rich prize they'd braved the wide caribbean in dugouts for. but now a longboat had been launched, and two seamen in white shirts and loose blue caps were rowing a young mate toward the pair of shadowy figures huddled against the smoky pyre at the shore. le basque laughed quietly and said something in a growl of french about allowing the ship's officers to die quickly, to reward their hospitality. the younger man wasn't listening. through the half-light he was carefully studying the longboat. now he could make out the caps of the seamen, woolen stockings loosely flopping to the side. then he looked back at the ship, seamen perched in its rigging to stare, and thought he heard fragments of a familiar tongue drifting muffled over the swells. next a crowd of passengers appeared at the taffrail, led by a well-to-do family in ruffs and taffetas. they weren't spanish. they couldn't be. the man wore a plumed hat and long curls that reached almost to his velvet doublet, london fashions obvious at hundreds of yards. the woman, a trifle stout, had a tight yellow bodice and long silk cape, her hair tied back. between them was a girl, perhaps twelve, with long chestnut ringlets. he examined the rake of the ship once more, to make doubly sure, then turned to jacques. "that ship's english. look at her. boxy waist. short taffrail. doubtless a merchantman out of virginia, bound for nevis or barbados." he paused when he realized jacques was not responsive. finally he continued, his voice louder. "i tell you there'll be nothing on her worth having. wood staves, candle wax, a little salt fish. i know what they lade." jacques looked back at the ship, unconcerned. "_cela n'a pas d'importance_. anglais. there'll be provisions. we have to take her." "but no silver. there's no english coin out here in the americas, never has been. and who knows what could happen? let some ordnance be set off, or somebody fire her, and we run the risk of alerting the whole spanish fleet." now le basque shrugged, pretending to only half understand the english, and responded in his hard french. "taking her's best. if she truly be anglaise then we'll keep her and use her ourselves." he grinned, showing a row of blackened teeth. "and have the women for sport. i'll even give you the pretty little one there by the rail, anglais, for your _petite amie_." he studied the ship again and laughed. "she's not yet work for a man." the younger man stared at him blankly for a moment, feeling his face go chill. behind him, in the brush, he heard arguments rising up between the english hunters and the french over what to do. during his years with them they had killed wild bulls by the score, but never another englishman. "jacques, we're not spaniards. this is not going to be our way." he barely heard his own words. surely, he told himself, we have to act honorably. that was the unwritten code in the new world, where men made their own laws. "anglais, i regret to say you sadden me somewhat." le basque was turning, mechanically. "i once thought you had the will to be one of us. but now . . ." his hand had slipped upward, a slight motion almost invisible in the flickering shadows. but by the time it reached his gun, the young man's long flintlock was already drawn and leveled. "jacques, i told you no." the dull click of a misfire sounded across the morning mist. by now le basque's own pistol was in his hand, primed and cocked, a part of him. its flare opened a path through the dark between them. but the young englishman was already moving, driven by purest rage. he dropped to his side with a twist, an arm stretching for the fire. then his fingers touched what he sought, and closed about the glassy neck of the shattered flask. it seared his hand, but in his fury he paid no heed. the ragged edges sparkled against the flames as he found his footing, rising as the wide arc of his swing pulled him forward. le basque stumbled backward to avoid the glass, growling a french oath as he sprawled across a stack of green brush. an instant later the pile of burning logs suddenly crackled and sputtered, throwing a shower of sparks. then again. god help them, the young man thought, they're firing from the longboat. they must assume . . . he turned to shout a warning seaward, but his voice was drowned in the eruption of gunfire from the camouflage along the shore. the three seamen in the boat jerked backward, all still gripping their smoking muskets, then splashed into the bay. empty, the craft veered sideways and in moments was drifting languorously back out to sea. many times in later years he tried to recall precisely what had happened next, but the events always merged, a blur of gunfire. as he dashed for the surf, trailed by le basque's curses, the dugouts began moving out, muskets spitting random flashes. he looked up to see the stout woman at the rail of the frigate brush at her face, then slump sideways into her startled husband's arms. he remembered too that he was already swimming, stroking toward the empty boat, when the first round of cannon fire from the ship sounded over the bay, its roar muffled by the water against his face. then he saw a second cannon flare . . . and watched the lead canoe dissolve into spray and splinters. the others were already turning back, abandoning the attack, when he grasped the slippery gunwale of the longboat, his only hope to reach the ship. as he strained against the swell, he became dimly aware the firing had stopped. memories of the last part were the most confused. still seething with anger, he had slowly pulled himself over the side, then rolled onto the bloodstained planking. beside him lay an english wool cap, its maker's name still lettered on the side. one oar rattled against its lock. the other was gone. he remembered glancing up to see seamen in the ship's rigging begin to swivel the yards, a sign she was coming about. then the mainsail snapped down and bellied against a sudden gust. damn them. wait for me. only a hundred yards separated them now, as the longboat continued to drift seaward. it seemed a hundred yards, though for years afterward he wondered if perhaps it might have been even less. what he did remember clearly was wrenching the oar from the lock and turning to begin paddling toward the ship. that was when the plume of spray erupted in front of him. as he tumbled backward he heard the unmistakable report of the ship's sternchaser cannon. he could never recollect if he had actually called out to them. he did remember crouching against the gunwale, listening to the volleys of musket fire from seamen along the ship's taffrail. several rounds of heavy lead shot had torn through the side of the longboat, sending splinters against his face. when he looked out again, the frigate was hoisting her lateen sail, ready to run for open sea. the line of musketmen was still poised along the rail, waiting. beside them was the family: the man was hovering above the stout woman, now laid along the deck, and with him was the girl. only then did he notice the heat against his cheek, the warm blood from the bullet cut. he glanced back at the fire, even more regretful he hadn't killed jacques le basque. someday, he told himself, he would settle the score. his anger was matched only by his disgust with the english. only one person on the ship seemed to question what had happened. the girl looked down at the woman for a long, sad moment, then glanced back, her tresses splayed in the morning wind. his last memory, before he lapsed into unconsciousness, was her upraised hand, as though in farewell. ten years later . . . book one barbados chapter one no sooner had their carriage creaked to a halt at the edge of the crowd than a tumult of cheers sounded through the humid morning air. with a wry glance toward the man seated opposite, katherine bedford drew back the faded curtains at the window and craned to see over the cluster of planters at the water's edge, garbed in their usual ragged jerkins, gray cotton breeches, and wide, sweat-stained hats. across the bay, edging into view just beyond the rocky cliff of lookout point, were the tattered, patched sails of the _zeelander_, a dutch trader well known to barbados. "it's just rounding the point now." her voice was hard, with more than a trace of contempt. "from here you'd scarcely know what their cargo was. it looks the same as always." as she squinted into the light, a shaft of caribbean sun candled her deep-blue eyes. her long ringlet curls were drawn back and secured with a tiara of spanish pearls, a halfhearted attempt at demureness spoiled by the nonchalant strands dangling across her forehead. the dark tan on her face betrayed her devotion to the sea and the sun; although twenty- three years of life had ripened her body, her high cheeks had none of the plump, anemic pallor so prized in english women. "aye, but this time she's very different, katy, make no mistake. nothing in the americas will ever be the same again. not after today." governor dalby bedford was across from her in the close, airless carriage, angrily gripping the silver knob of his cane. finally he bent forward to look too, and for a moment their faces were framed side by side. the likeness could scarcely have been greater: not only did they share the same intense eyes, there was a similar high forehead and determined chin. "damned to them. it's a shameful morning for us all." "just the same, you've got to go down and be there." though she despised the thought as much as he did, she realized he had no choice. the planters all knew dalby bedford had opposed the plan from the beginning, had argued with the council for weeks before arrangements were finally made with the dutch shippers. but the vote had gone against him, and now he had to honor it accordingly. while he sat watching the zeelander make a starboard tack, coming about to enter the bay, katherine leaned across the seat and pulled aside the opposite curtain. the hot wind that suddenly stirred past was a sultry harbinger of the coastal breeze now sweeping up the hillside, where field after identical field was lined with rows of tall, leafy stalks, green and iridescent in the sun. the new barbados is already here, she thought gloomily. the best thing now is to face it. without a word she straightened her tight, sweaty bodice, gathered her wrinkled skirt, and opened the carriage door. she waved aside the straw parasol that james, their irish servant and footman, tried to urge on her and stepped into the harsh midday sun. dalby bedford nodded at the crowd, then climbed down after. he was tall and, unlike his careless daughter, always groomed to perfection. today he wore a tan waistcoat trimmed with wide brown lace and a white cravat that matched the heron-feather plume in his wide- brimmed hat. over the years, the name of dalby bedford had become a byword for freedom in the americas: under his hand barbados had been made a democracy, and virtually independent of england. first he had convinced the king's proprietor to reduce rents on the island, then he had created an elected assembly of small freeholders to counter the high-handed rule of the powerful council. he had won every battle, until this one. katherine moved through the crowd of black-hatted planters as it parted before them. through the shimmering glare of the sand she could just make out the commanding form of anthony walrond farther down by the shore, together with his younger brother jeremy. like hundreds of other royalists, they had been deported to barbados in the aftermath of england's civil war. now anthony spotted their carriage and started up the incline toward them, and for an instant she found herself wishing she'd thought to wear a more fashionable bodice. "your servant, sir." a gruff greeting, aimed toward dalby bedford, disrupted her thoughts. she looked back to see a heavyset planter riding his horse directly through the crowd, with the insistent air of a man who demands deference. swinging down from his wheezing mount, he tossed the reins to the servant who had ridden with him and began to shove his way forward, fanning his open gray doublet against the heat. close to fifty and owner of the largest plantation on the island, benjamin briggs was head of the council, that governing body of original settlers appointed years before by the island's proprietor in london. his sagging, leathery face was formidable testimony to twenty years of hard work and even harder drink. the planters on the council had presided over barbados' transformation from a tropical rain forest to a patchwork of tobacco and cotton plantations, and now to what they hoped would soon be a factory producing white gold. briggs pushed back his dusty hat and turned to squint approvingly as the frigate began furling its mainsail in preparation to drop anchor. "god be praised, we're almost there. the years of starvation are soon to be over." katherine noted that she had not been included in his greeting. she had once spoken her mind to benjamin briggs concerning his treatment of his indentures more frankly than he cared to hear. even now, looking at him, she was still amazed that a man once a small bristol importer had risen to so much power in the americas. part of that success, she knew, derived from his practice of lending money to hard-pressed freeholders at generous rates but short terms, then foreclosing on their lands the moment the sight bills came due. "it's an evil precedent for the english settlements, mark my word." bedford gazed back toward the ship. he and benjamin briggs had been sworn enemies from the day he first proposed establishing the assembly. "i tell you again it'll open the way for fear and divisiveness throughout the americas." "it's our last chance for prosperity, sir. all else has failed," briggs responded testily. "i know it and so do you." before the governor could reply, anthony walrond was joining them. "your servant, sir." he touched his plumed hat toward dalby bedford, conspicuously ignoring briggs as he merged into their circle, jeremy at his heel. anthony walrond was thirty-five and the most accomplished, aristocratic man katherine had ever met, besides her father. his lean, elegant face was punctuated by an eye-patch, worn with the pride of an epaulette, that came from a sword wound in the bloody royalist defeat at marston moor. after he had invested and lost a small fortune in support of the king's failed cause, he had been exiled to barbados, his ancestral estate sequestrated by parliament. she still found herself incredulous that he had, only four weeks earlier, offered marriage. why, she puzzled, had he proposed the match? he was landed, worldly, and had distinguished himself during the war. she had none of his style and polish. . . . "katherine, your most obedient." he bowed lightly, then stood back to examine her affectionately. she was a bit brash, it was true, and a trifle--well, more than a trifle--forward for her sex. but underneath her blunt, seemingly impulsive way he sensed a powerful will. she wasn't afraid to act on her convictions, and the world be damned. so let her ride her mare about the island daylong now if she chose; there was breeding about her that merely wanted some refinement. "sir, your servant." katherine curtsied lightly and repressed a smile. no one knew she had quietly invited anthony walrond riding just two weeks earlier. the destination she had picked was a deserted little islet just off the windward coast, where they could be alone. propriety, she told herself, was all very well, but marrying a man for life was no slight matter. anthony walrond, it turned out, had promise of being all she could want. he reflected on the memory of that afternoon for a moment himself, delighted, then turned back to the governor with as solemn an air as he could manage. "i suppose this island'll soon be more in debt than ever to the hollanders. i think it's time we started giving english shippers a chance, now that it's likely to be worth their bother." "aye, doubtless you'd like that." briggs flared. "i know you still own a piece of a london trading company. you and that pack of english merchants would be pleased to charge us double the shipping rates the hollanders do. damn the lot of you. those of us who've been here from the start know we should all be on our knees, thankin' heaven for the dutchmen. the english settlements in the americas would've starved years ago if it hadn't been for them." he paused to spit onto the sand, just beside anthony's gleaming boots. "let english bottoms compete with the dutchmen, not wave the flag." "your servant, katherine." jeremy walrond had moved beside her, touching his plumed hat as he nodded. a cloud of perfume hovered about him, and his dark moustache was waxed to perfection. though he had just turned twenty, his handsome face was still boyish, with scarcely a hint of sun. "your most obedient." she nodded lightly in return, trying to appear formal. over the past year she had come to adore jeremy as though he were a younger brother, even though she knew he despised the wildness of barbados as much as she gloried in it. he was used to pampering and yearned to be back in england. he also longed to be thought a man; longed, in truth, to be just like anthony, save he didn't know quite how. they all stood awkwardly for a moment, each wondering what the ship would signify for their own future and that of the island. katherine feared that for her it would mean the end of barbados' few remaining forests, hidden groves upland where she could ride alone and think. cultivated land was suddenly so valuable that all trees would soon vanish. it was the last anyone would see of an island part untamed and free. depressed once more by the prospect, she turned and stared down the shore, toward the collection of clapboard taverns clustered around the narrow bridge at the river mouth. adjacent to the taverns was a makeshift assemblage of tobacco sheds, open shops, and bawdy houses, which taken together had become known as bridgetown. the largest "town" on barbados, it was now all but empty. everyone, even the tavern keepers and irish whores, had come out to watch. then, through the brilliant sunshine she spotted an unexpected pair, ambling slowly along the water's edge. the woman was well known to the island--joan fuller, the yellow-haired proprietor of its most successful brothel. but the man? whatever else, he was certainly no freeholder. for one thing, no puritan planter would be seen in public with mistress fuller. the stranger was gesturing at the ship and mumbling unhappily to her as they walked. abruptly she reached up to pinch his cheek, as though to dispel his mood. he glanced down and fondly swiped at her tangled yellow hair, then bade her farewell, turned, and began moving toward them. "god's life, don't tell me he's come back." briggs first noticed the stranger when he was already halfway through the crowd. he sucked in his breath and whirled to survey the line of dutch merchantmen anchored in the shallows along the shore. nothing. but farther down, near the careenage at the river mouth, a battered frigate rode at anchor. the ship bore no flag, but the word _defiance _was crudely lettered across the stern. "aye, word has it he put in this morning at first light." edward bayes, a black-hatted council member with ruddy jowls, was squinting against the sun. "what're you thinking we'd best do?" briggs seemed to ignore the question as he began pushing his way through the crowd. the newcomer was fully half a head taller than most of the planters, and unlike everyone else he wore no hat, leaving his rust-colored hair to blow in the wind. he was dressed in a worn leather jerkin, dark canvas breeches, and sea boots weathered from long use. he might have passed for an ordinary seaman had it not been for the two spanish flintlock pistols, freshly polished and gleaming, that protruded from his wide belt. "your servant, captain." briggs' greeting was correct and formal, but the man returned it with only a slight, distracted nod. "back to see what the hollanders've brought?" "i'm afraid i already know what they're shipping. i picked a hell of a day to come back." the stranger rubbed absently at a long scar across one cheek, then continued, as though to himself, "damn me, i should have guessed all along this would be the way." the crowd had fallen silent to listen, and katherine could make out that his accent was that of a gentleman, even if his dress clearly was not. his easy stride suggested he was little more than thirty, but the squint that framed his brown eyes made his face years older. by his looks and the uneasy shuffle of the council members gathered around them, she suddenly began to suspect who he might be. "katy, who the devil?" jeremy had lowered his voice to a whisper. "i'm not sure, but if i had to guess, i'd say that's probably the smuggler you claim robbed you once." scarce wonder briggs is nervous, she thought. every planter on the shore knows exactly why he's come back. "hugh winston? is that him?" jeremy glared at the newcomer, his eyes hardening. "you can't mean it. he'd not have the brass to show his face on english soil." "he's been here before. i've just never actually seen him. you always seem to keep forgetting, jeremy, barbados isn't part of england." she glanced back. "surely you heard what he did. it happened just before you came out." she gestured toward the green hillsides. "he's the one we have to thank for all this. i fancy he's made briggs and the rest of them rich, for all the good it'll ever do him." "what he's done, if you must know, is make a profession of stealing from honest men. damned to their cane. he's scarcely better than a thief. do you know exactly what he did?" "you mean that business about your frigate?" "the eighty-tonner of ours that grounded on the reefs up by nevis island. he's the one who set our men ashore--then announced he was taking the cargo in payment. rolls of wool broadcloth worth almost three thousand pounds sterling. and several crates of new flintlock muskets. he smuggled the cloth into virginia, sold it for nothing, and ruined the market for months. he'd be hanged if he tried walking the streets of london, i swear it. doesn't anybody here know that?" she tried to recall what she did know. the story heard most often was that he'd begun his career at sea on a dutch merchantman. then, so word had it, he'd gone out on his own. according to tales that went around the caribbees, he'd pulled together a band of some dozen runaway indentures and one night somehow managed to sail a small shallop into the harbor at santo domingo. he sailed out before dawn at the helm of a two-hundred-ton spanish square-rigger. after some heavy refitting, it became the _defiance_. "they probably know he robbed you, jeremy, but i truly doubt whether they care all that much." "what do you mean?" "he's the one benjamin briggs and the others hired to take them down to brazil and back." that voyage had later become a legend in the english caribbees. its objective was a plantation just outside the city of pemambuco--capital of the new territory in brazil the dutch had just seized from the portuguese. there the barbados' council had deciphered the closely guarded process brazilian plantations used to refine sugar from cane sap. thanks to the friendly dutch, and hugh winston, englishmen had finally cracked the centuries-old sugar monopoly of portugal and spain. "you mean he's the same one who helped them get that load of cane for planting, and the plans for briggs' sugar mill?" jeremy examined the stranger again. "exactly. he also brought back something else for briggs." she smiled. "can you guess?" jeremy flushed and carefully smoothed his new moustache. "i suppose you're referring to that portuguese mulatto wench he bought to be his bed warmer." yes, she thought, hugh winston's dangerous voyage, outsailing several spanish patrols, had been an all-round success. and everybody on the island knew the terms he had demanded. sight bills from the council, all co-signed at his insistence by benjamin briggs, in the sum of two thousand pounds sterling, payable in twenty-four months. "well, sir"--briggs smiled at winston as he thumbed toward the approaching ship--"this is the cargo we'll be wanting now, if we're to finish converting this place to sugar. you could be of help to us again if you'd choose. this is where the future'll be, depend on it." "i made one mistake, helping this island." winston glanced at the ship and his eyes were momentarily pained. "i don't plan to make another." then he turned and stared past the crowd, toward the green fields patch-worked against the hillsides inland. "but i see your cane prospered well enough. when do we talk?" "why any time you will, sir. we've not forgotten our debts." briggs forced another smile. "we'll have a tankard on it, right after the auction." he turned and motioned toward a red-faced irishman standing behind him, wearing straw shoes and a long gray shirt. "farrell, a moment of your valuable time." "yor worship." timothy farrell, one of briggs' many indentured servants, bowed sullenly as he came forward, then doffed his straw hat, squinting against the sun. his voice still carried the musical lilt of his native kinsale, where he had been offered the choice, not necessarily easy, between prison for debt and indentured labor in sweltering barbados. he had finally elected barbados when informed, falsely, that he would receive a grant of five acres of land after his term of servitude expired--a practice long since abandoned. katherine watched as briggs flipped him a small brass coin. "fetch a flask of kill-devil from the tavern up by the bridge. and have it here when i get back." kill-devil was bought from dutch shippers, who procured it from brazilian plantations, where it was brewed using wastes from their sugar-works. the portuguese there employed it as a cheap tonic to rout the "devil" thought to possess african slaves at the end of a long day and render them sluggish. it retailed handily as a beverage in the english settlements of the americas, however, sometimes being marketed under the more dignified name of "rumbullion," or "rum." briggs watched as farrell sauntered off down the shore. "that's what we'll soon hear the last of. a lazy papist, like half the lot that's being sent out nowadays." he turned to study the weathered dutch frigate as it eased into the sandy shallows and the anchor chain began to rattle down the side. "but we've got good workers at last. by jesus, we've found the answer." katherine watched the planters secure their hats against a sudden breeze and begin pushing toward the shore. even anthony and jeremy went with them. the only man who held back was hugh winston, still standing there in his worn-out leather jerkin. he seemed reluctant to budge. maybe, she thought, he doesn't want to confront it. as well he shouldn't. we've got him to thank for this. after a moment he glanced back and began to examine her with open curiosity, his eyes playing over her face, then her tight bodice. finally he shifted one of the pistols in his belt, turned, and began strolling down the sloping sand toward the bay. well, damn his cheek. all along she had planned to go down herself, to see firsthand what an auction would be like, but at that instant the shifting breeze brought a sudden stench from the direction of the ship. she hesitated, a rare moment of indecision, before turning back toward the carriage. this, she now realized, marked the start of something she wanted no part of. moving slowly toward the shore, winston found himself puzzling over the arch young woman who had been with governor bedford. doubtless she was the daughter you heard so much about, though from her dress you'd scarcely guess it. but she had an open way about her you didn't see much in a woman. plenty of spirit there . . . and doubtless a handful for the man who ever got her onto a mattress. forget it, he told himself, you've enough to think about today. starting with the _zeelander_. and her cargo. the sight of that three-masted fluyt brought back so many places and times. brazil, rotterdam, virginia, even barbados. her captain johan ruyters had changed his life, that day the _zeelander_ hailed his bullet-riddled longboat adrift in the windward passage. winston had lost track of the time a bit now, but not of the term ruyters had made him serve in return for the rescue. three years, three miserable years of short rations, doubled watches, and no pay. back when he served on the _zeelander_ her cargo had been mostly brown muscavado sugar, ferried home to rotterdam from holland's newly captive plantations in brazil. but there had been a change in the world since then. the dutch had seized a string of portuguese trading fortresses along the coast of west africa. now, at last, they had access to a commodity far more profitable than sugar. he reflected on ruyters' first axiom of successful trade: sell what's in demand. and if there's no demand for what you've got, make it. new sugar plantations would provide the surest market of all for what the dutch now had to sell. so in the spring of ruyters had left a few bales of brazilian sugarcane with benjamin briggs, then a struggling tobacco planter on barbados, suggesting that he try growing it and refining sugar from the sap, explaining the portuguese process as best he could. it had been a night over two years past, at joan's place, when briggs described what had happened after that. "the cane grew well enough, aye, and i managed to press out enough of the sap to try rendering it to sugar. but nothing else worked. i tried boiling it in pots and then letting it sit, but what i got was scarcely more than molasses and mud. it's not as simple as i thought." then he had unfolded his new scheme. "but if you'll take some of us on the council down to brazil, sir, the dutchmen claim they'll let us see how the portugals do it. we'll soon know as much about sugar-making as any papist. there'll be a fine fortune in it, i promise you, for all of us." but how, he'd asked briggs, did they expect to manage all the work of cutting the cane? "these indentures, sir. we've got thousands of them." he'd finally agreed to accept the council's proposition. and the _defiance _was ideal for the run. once an old spanish cargo vessel, he'd disguised her by chopping away the high fo'c'sle, removing the pilot's cabin, and lowering the quarterdeck. next he'd re-rigged her, opened more gunports in the hull, and installed new cannon. now she was a heavily armed fighting brig and swift. good god, he thought, how could i have failed to see? it had to come to this; there was no other way. so maybe it's time i did something my own way for a change. yes, by god, maybe there's an answer to all this. he thought again of the sight bills, now locked in the great cabin of the _defiance_ and payable in one week. two thousand pounds. it would be a miracle if the council could find the coin to settle the debt, but they did have something he needed. and either way, master briggs, i intend to have satisfaction, or i may just take your balls for a bell buoy. now a white shallop was being lowered over the gunwales of the _zeelander_, followed by oarsmen. then after a measured pause a new figure, wearing the high collar and wide-brimmed hat of holland's merchant class, appeared at the railing. his plump face was punctuated with a goatee, and his smile was visible all the way to the shore. he stood a long moment, dramatically surveying the low-lying hills of barbados, and then captain johan ruyters began lowering himself down the swaying rope ladder. as the shallop nosed through the surf and eased into the sandy shallows, dalby bedford moved to the front of the receiving delegation, giving no hint how bitterly he had opposed the arrangement briggs and the council had made with the dutch shippers. "your servant, captain." "your most obedient servant, sir." ruyters' english was heavily accented but otherwise flawless. winston recalled he could speak five languages as smoothly as oil, and shortchange the fastest broker in twice that many currencies. "it is a fine day for barbados." "how went the voyage?" briggs asked, stepping forward and thrusting out his hand, which ruyters took readily, though with a wary gathering of his eyebrows. "a fair wind, taken for all. seventy-four days and only some fifteen percent wastage of the cargo. not a bad figure for the passage, though still enough to make us friends of the sharks. but i've nearly three hundred left, all prime." "are they strapping?" briggs peered toward the ship, and his tone sharpened slighdy, signaling that social pleasantries were not to be confused with commerce. "remember we'll be wantin' them for the fields, not for the kitchen." "none stronger in the whole west of africa. these are not from the windward coast, mark you, where i grant what you get is fit mostly for house duty. i took half this load from cape verde, on the guinea coast, and then sailed on down to benin, by the niger river delta, for the rest. these nigers make the strongest field workers. there is even a chief amongst them, a yoruba warrior. i've seen a few of these yoruba nigers in brazil, and i can tell you this one could have the wits to make you a first-class gang driver." ruyters shaded his eyes against the sun and lowered his voice. "in truth, i made a special accommodation with the agent selling him, which is how i got so many hardy ones. usually i have to take a string of mixed quality, which i get with a few kegs of gunpowder for the chiefs and maybe some iron, together with a few beads and such for their wives. but i had to barter five chests of muskets and a hundred strings of their cowrie-shell money for this yoruba. after that, though, i got the pick of his boys." ruyters stopped and peered past the planters for a second, his face mirroring disbelief. then he grinned broadly and shoved through the crowd, extending his hand toward winston. "by the blood of christ. i thought sure you'd be hanged by now. how long has it been? six years? seven?" he laughed and pumped winston's hand vigorously, then his voice sobered. "not here to spy on the trade i hope? i'd best beware or you're like to be eyeing my cargo next." "you can have it." winston extracted his hand, reflecting with chagrin that he himself had been the instrument of what was about to occur. "what say, now?" ruyters smiled to mask his relief. "aye, but to be sure this is an easy business." he turned back to the planters as he continued. "it never fails to amaze me how ready their own people are to sell them. they spy your sail when you're several leagues at sea and build a smoke fire on the coast to let you know they've got cargo." he reached for dalby bedford's arm, to usher him toward the waiting boat. anthony walrond said something quietly to jeremy, then followed after the governor. following on their heels was benjamin briggs, who tightened his belt as he waded through the shallows. ruyters did not fail to notice when several of the oarsmen smiled and nodded toward winston. he was still remembered as the best first mate the _zeelander_ had ever had--and the only seaman anyone had ever seen who could toss a florin into the air and drill it with a pistol ball better than half the time. finally the dutch captain turned back, beckoning. "it'd be an honor if you would join us, sir. as long as you don't try taking any of my lads with you." winston hesitated a moment, then stepped into the boat as it began to draw away from the shore. around them other small craft were being untied, and the planters jostled together as they waded through the light surf and began to climb over the gunwales. soon a small, motley flotilla was making its way toward the ship. as winston studied the _zeelander_, he couldn't help recalling how welcome she had looked that sun-baked afternoon ten years past. in his thirsty delirium her billowing sails had seemed the wings of an angel of mercy. but she was not angelic today. she was dilapidated now, with runny patches of tar and oakum dotting her from bow to stern. by converting her into a slaver, he knew, ruyters had discovered a prudent way to make the most of her last years. as they eased into the shadow of her leeward side, winston realized something else had changed. the entire ship now smelled of human excrement. he waited till ruyters led the planters, headed by dalby bedford and benjamin briggs, up the salt-stiff rope ladder, then followed after. the decks were dingy and warped, and there was a haggard look in the men's eyes he didn't recall from before. profit comes at a price, he thought, even for quick dutch traders. ruyters barked an order to his quartermaster, and moments later the main hatch was opened. immediately the stifling air around the frigate was filled with a chorus of low moans from the decks below. winston felt briggs seize his arm and heard a hoarse whisper. "take a look and see how it's done. it's said the dutchmen have learned the secret of how best to pack them." "i already know how a slaver's cargoed." he pulled back his arm and thought again of the dutch slave ships that had been anchored in the harbor at pernambuco. "a slave's chained on his back, on a shelf, for the whole of the voyage, if he lives that long." he pointed toward the hold. "why not go on down and have a look for yourself?" briggs frowned and turned to watch as the quartermaster yelled orders to several seamen, all shirtless and squinting in the sun, who cursed under their breath as they began reluctantly to make their way down the companionway to the lower deck. the air in the darkened hold was almost unbreathable. the clank of chains began, and winston found himself drawn against his will to the open hatchway to watch. as the cargo was unchained from iron loops fastened to the side of the ship, their manacled hands were looped through a heavy line the seamen passed along the length of the lower deck. slowly, shakily, the first string of men began to emerge from the hold. their feet and hands were still secured with individual chains, and all were naked. as each struggled up from the hold, he would stare into the blinding sun for a confused moment, as though to gain bearings, then turn in bewilderment to gaze at the green beyond, so like and yet so alien from the african coast. finally, seeing the planters, he would stretch to cover his groin with manacled hands, the hesitation prompting a dutch seaman to lash him forward. the africans' black skin shone in the sun, the result of a forced diet of cod liver oil the last week of the voyage. then too, there had been a quick splash with seawater on the decks below, followed by swabbing with palm oil, when the _zeelander's _maintopman had sighted the low green peaks of barbados rising out of the sea. they seemed stronger than might have been expected, the effect of a remedial diet of salt fish the last three days of the voyage. "well, sir, what think you of the cargo?" ruyters' face was aglow. winston winced. "better your vessel than mine." "but it's no great matter to ship these africans. the truth is we don't really even have to keep them fettered once we pass sight of land, since they're too terrified to revolt. we feed them twice a day with meal boiled up into a mush, and every other day or so we give them some english horsebeans, which they seem to favor. sometimes we even bring them up topside to feed, whilst we splash down the decks below." he smiled and swept the assembled bodies with his eyes. "that's why we have so little wastage. not like the spaniards or portugals, who can easily lose a quarter or more to shark feed through overpacking and giving them seawater to drink. but i'll warrant the english'll try to squeeze all the profit they can one day, when your ships take up the trade, and then you'll doubtless see wastage high as the papists have." "english merchants'll never take up the slave trade." ruyters gave a chuckle. "aye but that they will, as i'm a christian, and soon enough too." he glanced in the direction of anthony walrond. "your london shippers'll take up anything we do that shows a florin's profit. but we'll give you a run for it." he turned back to briggs. "what say you, sir? are they to your liking?" "i take it they're a mix? like we ordered?" "wouldn't load them any other way. there's a goodly batch of yoruba, granted, but the rest are everything from ibo and ashanti to mandingo. there's little chance they'll be plotting any revolts. half of them are likely blood enemies of the other half." the first mate lashed the line forward with a cat-o'-nine-tails, positioning them along the scuppers. at the head was a tall man whose alert eyes were already studying the forested center of the island. winston examined him for a moment, recalling the haughty yoruba slaves he had seen in brazil. "is that the chief you spoke of?" ruyters glanced at the man a moment. "they mostly look the same to me, but aye, i think that's the one. prince atiba, i believe they called him. a niger and pure yoruba." "he'll never be made a slave." "won't he now? you'll find the cat can work wonders." ruyters turned and took the cat-o'-nine-tails from the mate. "he'll jump just like the rest." with a quick flick he lashed it against the african's back. the man stood unmoving, without even a blink. he drew back and struck him a second time, now harder. the yoruba's jaw tightened visibly but he still did not flinch. as ruyters drew back for a third blow, winston reached to stay his arm. "enough. take care or he may prove a better man than you'd wish to show." before ruyters could respond, briggs moved to begin the negotiations. "what terms are you offering, sir?" "like we agreed." ruyters turned back. "a quarter now, with sight bills for another quarter in six months and the balance on terms in a year." "paid in bales of tobacco at standing rates? or sugar, assuming we've got it then?" "i've yet to see two gold pieces keeping company together on the whole of the island." he snorted. "i suppose it'll have to be. what do you say to the usual exchange rate?" "i say we can begin. let's start with the best, and not trouble with the bidding candle yet. i'll offer you a full twenty pounds for the first one there." briggs pointed at the yoruba. the dutch captain examined him in disbelief. "this is not some indentured irishman, sir. this is a robust field hand you'll own for life. and he has all the looks of a good breeder. my conscience wouldn't let me entertain a farthing under forty." "would you take some of my acres too? is there no profit to be had in him?" "these africans'll pay themselves out for you in one good year, two at the most. just like they do in brazil." ruyters smiled. "and this is the very one that cost me a fortune in muskets. it's only because i know you for a gentleman that i'd even think of offering him on such easy terms. he's plainly the pick of the string." winston turned away and gazed toward the shore. the price would be thirty pounds. he knew ruyters' bargaining practices all too well. the sight of the zeelander's decks sickened him almost as much as the slaves. he wanted to get to sea again, to leave barbados and its greedy puritans far behind. but this time, he told himself, you're the one who needs them. just a little longer and there'll be a reckoning. and after that, barbados can be damned. "thirty pounds then, and may god forgive me." ruyters was slapping briggs genially on the shoulder. "but you'll be needing a lot more for the acres you want to cut. why not take the rest of this string at a flat twenty-five pounds the head, and make an end on it? it'll spare both of us time." "twenty-five!" "make it twenty then." ruyters lowered his voice. "but not a shilling under, god is my witness." "by my life, you're a conniving moor, passing himself as a dutchman." briggs mopped his brow. "it's time for the candle, sir. they're scarcely all of the same quality." "i'll grant you. some should fetch well above twenty. i ventured the offer thinking a gentleman of your discernment might grasp a bargain when he saw it. but as you will." he turned and spoke quickly to his quartermaster, a short, surly seaman who had been with the zeelander almost as long as ruyters. the officer disappeared toward the great cabin and returned moments later with several long white candles, marked with rings at one-inch intervals. he fitted one into a holder and lit the wick. "we'll begin with the next one in the string." ruyters pointed to a stout, gray-bearded man. "gentlemen, what am i bid?" "twelve pounds." "fifteen." "fifteen pounds ten." "sixteen." as winston watched the bidding, he found his gaze drifting more and more to the yoruba briggs had just purchased. the man was meeting his stare now, eye to eye, almost a challenge. there were three small scars lined down one cheek--the clan marks yoruba warriors were said to wear to prevent inadvertently killing another clan member in battle. he was naked and in chains, but he held himself like a born aristocrat. "eighteen and ten." briggs was eyeing the flickering candle as he yelled the bid. at that moment the first dark ring disappeared. "the last bid on the candle was mr. benjamin briggs." ruyters turned to his quartermaster, who was holding an open account book, quill pen in hand. "at eighteen pounds ten shillings. mark it and let's get on with the next one." winston moved slowly back toward the main deck, studying the first yoruba more carefully now--the glistening skin that seemed to stretch over ripples of muscle. and the quick eyes, seeing everything. what a fighting man he'd make. he'd snap your neck while you were still reaching for your pistol. it could've been a big mistake not to try and get him. but then what? how'd you make him understand anything? unless . . . he remembered that some of the yoruba in brazil, still fresh off the slave ships, already spoke portuguese. learned from the traders who'd worked the african coast for . . . god only knows how long. the portugals in brazil always claimed you could never tell about a yoruba. they were like moors, sharp as tacks. his curiosity growing, he edged next to the man, still attempting to hold his eyes, then decided to try him. "_fala portugues_?" atiba started in surprise, shot a quick glance toward the crowd of whites, then turned away, as though he hadn't heard. winston moved closer and lowered his voice. "_fala portugues, senhor_?" after a long moment he turned back and examined winston. "_sim. suficiente_." his whisper was almost buried in the din of bidding. he paused a moment, then continued, in barely audible portuguese. "how many of my people will you try to buy, _senhor_?" "only free men serve under my command.' "then you have saved yourself the loss of many strings of money shells,_ senhor_. the _branco _here may have escaped our sword for now. but they have placed themselves in our scabbard." he looked back toward the shore. "before the next rainy season comes, you will see us put on the skin of the leopard. i swear to you in the name of ogun, god of war." chapter two joan fuller sighed and gently eased herself out of the clammy feather bed, unsure why she felt so oddly listless. like as not it was the patter of the noonday shower, now in full force, gusting through the open jalousies in its daily drenching of the tavern's rear quarters. a shower was supposed to be cooling, so why did she always feel hotter and more miserable afterwards? even now, threads of sweat lined down between her full breasts, inside the curve of each long leg. she moved quietly to the window and one by one began tilting the louvres upward, hoping to shut out some of the salty mist. day in and day out, the same pattern. first the harsh sun, then the rain, then the sun again. mind you, it had brought to life all those new rows of sugar cane marshalled down the hillsides, raising hope the planters might eventually settle their accounts in something besides weedy tobacco. but money mattered so little anymore. time, that's the commodity no purse on earth could buy. and the barbados sun and rain, day after day, were like a heartless cadence marking time's theft of the only thing a woman had truly worth holding on to. the tropical sun and salt air would be telling enough on the face of some girl of twenty, but for a woman all but thirty--well, in god's own truth some nine years past--it was ruination. still, there it was, every morning, like a knife come to etch deeper those telltale lines at the corners of her eyes. and after she'd frayed her plain brown hair coloring it with yellow dye, hoping to bring out a bit of the sparkle in her hazel eyes, she could count on the harsh salt wind to finish turning it to straw. god damn miserable barbados. as if there weren't bother enough, now hugh was back, the whoremaster, half ready to carry on as though he'd never been gone. when you both knew the past was past. but why not just make the most of whatever happens . . . and time be damned. she turned and glanced back toward the bed. he was awake now too, propped up on one elbow, groggily watching. for a moment she thought she might have disturbed him getting up--in years past he used to grumble about that--but then she caught the look in his eyes. what the pox. in truth it wasn't always so bad, having him back now and again. . . . slowly her focus strayed to the dark hair on his chest, the part not lightened to rust by the sun, and she realized she was the one who wanted him. this minute. but she never hinted that to hugh winston. she never gave him the least encouragement. she kept the whoreson off balance, else he'd lose interest. after you got to know him the way she did, you realized hugh fancied the chase. as she started to look away, he smiled and beckoned her over. just like she'd figured . . . she adjusted the other shutters, then took her own sweet time strolling back. almost as though he weren't even there. then she casually settled onto the bed, letting him see the fine profile of her breasts, and just happening to drape one long leg where he could manage to touch it. but now she was beginning to be of two minds. god's life, it was too damned hot, hugh or no. he ignored her ankle and, for some reason, reached out and silently drew one of his long brown fingers down her cheek. very slowly. she stifled a shiver, reminding herself she'd had quite enough of men in general, and hugh winston in particular, to do a lifetime. but, still . . . before she realized it, he'd lifted back her yellow hair and kissed her deeply on the mouth. suddenly it was all she could manage, keeping her hands on the mattress. then he faltered, mumbled something about the heat, and plopped back onto the sweat-soaked sheet. well, god damn him too. she studied his face again, wondering why he seemed so distracted this trip. it wasn't like hugh to let things get under his skin. though admittedly affairs were going poorly for him now, mainly because of the damned civil war in england. since he didn't trouble about taxes, he'd always undersold english shippers. but after the war had disrupted things so much, the american settlements were wide open to the cut-rate hollanders, who could sell and ship cheaper than anybody alive. these days the butterboxes were everywhere; you could look out the window and see a dozen dutch merchantmen anchored right in carlisle bay. ever since that trip for the council he'd been busy running whatever he could get between virginia and some other place he hadn't said--yet he had scarcely a shilling to show for his time. why else would he have paid that flock of shiftless runaways he called a crew with the last of his savings? she knew it was all he had, and he'd just handed it over for them to drink and whore away. when would he learn? and if you're thinking you'll collect on the council's sight bills, dear heart, you'd best think again. master benjamin briggs and the rest of that shifty lot could hold school for learned scholars on the topic of stalling obligations. he was doubtless too proud to own it straight out, but he needn't trouble. she already knew. hugh winston, her lover in times past and still the only friend she had worth the bother, was down to his last farthing. she sighed, telling herself she knew full well what it was like. god's wounds, did she know what it was like. back when hugh winston was still in his first and only term at oxford, the son of one lord harold winston, before he'd been apprenticed and then sent packing out to the caribbees, joan fuller was already an orphan. the hardest place you could be one. on the cobblestone streets of billingsgate, city of london. that's where you think you're in luck to hire out in some household for a few pennies a week, with a hag of a mistress who despises you for no more cause than you're young and pretty. of course you steal a little at first, not too much or she'd see, but then you remember the master, who idles about the place in his greasy nightshirt half the day, and who starts taking notice after you let the gouty old whoremaster know you'd be willing to earn something extra. finally the mistress starts to suspect--the bloodhounds always do after a while--and soon enough you're back on the cobblestones. but you know a lot more now. so if you're half clever you'll take what you've put by and have some proper dresses made up, bright colored with ruffled petticoats, and a few hats with silk ribands. then you pay down on a furnished lodging in covent garden, the first floor even though it's more than all the rest of the house. soon you've got lots of regulars, and then eventually you make acquaintance of a certain gentleman of means who wants a pert young thing all to himself, on alternate afternoons. it lasts for going on two years, till you decide you're weary to death of the kept life. so you count up what's set by-- and realize it's enough to hire passage out to barbados. which someone once told you was supposed to be paradise after london, and you, like a fool, believed it. but which you discover quick enough is just a damned sweltering version of hell. you're here now though, so you take what little money's left and find yourself some girls, irish ones who've served out their time as indentures, despise having to work, and can't wait to take up the old life, same as before they came out. and finally you can forget all about what it was like being a penniless orphan. trouble is, you also realize you're not so young anymore. "would you fancy some hollander cheese, love? the purser from the _zeelander _lifted a tub for me and there's still a bit left. and i'll warrant there's cassava bread in back, still warm from morning." she knew hugh always called for the local bread, the hard patties baked from the powdered cassava root, rather than that from the stale, weevily flour shipped out from london. he ran a finger contemplatively across her breasts--now they at least were still round and firm as any strutting irish wench half her age could boast--then dropped his legs off the side of the bed and began to search for his boots. "i could do with a tankard of sack." the very brass of him! when he'd come back half drunk in the middle of the night, ranting about floggings or some such and waving a bottle of kill-devil. he'd climbed into bed, had his way, and promptly passed out. so instead of acting like he owned the place, he could bloody well supply an explanation. "so how did it go yesterday?" she held her voice even, a purr. "with that business on the _zeelander_?" that wasn't the point she actually had in mind. if it hadn't been so damned hot, she'd have nailed him straight out. something along the lines of "and where in bloody hell were you till all hours?" or maybe "why is't you think you can have whatever you want, the minute you want it?" that was the enquiry the situation called for. "you missed a fine entertainment." his tone of voice told her he probably meant just the opposite. "you're sayin' the sale went well for the dutchmen?" she watched him shrug, then readied herself to monitor him sharply. "and after that i expect you were off drinking with the council." she flashed a look of mock disapproval. "doubtless passing yourself for a fine gentleman, as always?" "i am a gentleman." he laughed and swung at her with a muddy boot, just missing as she sprang from the bed. "i just rarely trouble to own it." "aye, you're a gentleman, to be sure. and by that thinking i'm a virgin still, since i was doubtless that once too." "so i've heard you claim. but that was back well before my time." "you had rare fortune, darlin'. you got the rewards of years of expertise." she reached to pull on her brown linen shift. "and i suppose you'll be telling me next that master briggs and the council can scarcely wait to settle your sight bills." "they'll settle them in a fortnight, one way or another, or damned to them." he reached for his breeches, not the fancy ones he wore once in a while around the council, but the canvas ones he used aboard ship, and the tone of his voice changed. "i just hope things stay on an even keel till then." "i don't catch your meaning." she studied him openly, wondering if that meant he was already planning to leave. "the planters' new purchase." he'd finished with the trousers and was busy with his belt. "half of them are yoruba." "and, pray, what's that?" she'd thought he was going to explain more on the bit about leaving. "i think they're a people from somewhere down around the niger river delta." "the africans, you mean?" she examined him, still puzzled. "the slaves?" "you've hit on it. the slaves. like a fool, i didn't see it coming, but it's here, all right. may god curse ruyters. now i realize this is what he planned all along, the bastard, when he started telling everybody how they could get rich with cane. save none of these puritans knows the first thing about working africans. he's sold them a powder keg with these yoruba." he rose and started for the door leading into the front room of the tavern. "and they're doing all they can to spark the fuse." "what're you tryin' to say?" she was watching him walk, something that still pleased her after all the years. but she kept on seeming to listen. when hugh took something in his head, you'd best let him carry on about it for a time. "they're proud and i've got a feeling they're not going to take this treatment." he turned back to look at her, finally reading her confusion. "i've seen plenty of yoruba over the years in brazil, and i can tell you the papists have learned to handle them differently. they're fast and they're smart. some of them even come off the boat already knowing portugee. i also found out that at least one of those ruyters sold to briggs can speak it." "is that such a bad thing? it'd seem to me . . ." "what i'm saying is, now that they're here, they've got to be treated like men. you can't starve them and horsewhip them the way you can irish indentures. i've got a strong feeling they'll not abide it for long." he moved restlessly into the front room, a wood-floored space of rickety pine tables and wobbly straight chairs, plopping down by the front doorway, his gaze fixed on the misty outline of the river bridge. "i went on out to briggs' plantation last night, thinking to talk over a certain little matter, but instead i got treated to a show of how he plans to break in his slaves. the first thing he did was flog one of his new yoruba when he balked at eating loblolly corn mush. that's going to make for big trouble, mark it." she studied him now and finally realized how worked up he was. hugh usually noticed everything, yet he'd walked straight through the room without returning the groggy nods of his men, two french mates and his quartermaster john mewes--the latter now gaming at three-handed whist with salt-beef peg and buttock-de-clink jenny, her two newest irish girls. she knew for sure peg had noticed him, and that little sixpenny tart bloody well knew better than to breathe a word in front of her mistress. "well, settle down a bit." she opened the cabinet and took out an onion-flask of sack, together with two tankards. "tell me where you're thinking you'll be going next." she dropped into the chair opposite and began uncorking the bottle. "or am i to expect you and the lads'll be staying a while in barbados this time?" he laughed. "well now, am i supposed to think it's me you're thinking about? or is it you're just worried we might ship out while one of the lads still has a shilling left somewhere or other?" she briefly considered hoisting the bottle she'd just fetched and cracking it over his skull, but instead she shot him a frown and turned toward the bleary-eyed gathering at the whist table. "john, did you ever hear the likes of this one, by my life? he'd have the lot of you drink and play for free." john mewes, a bristol seaman who had joined hugh years ago after jumping ship at nevis island, stared up groggily from his game, then glanced back at his shrinking pile of coins--shrinking as salt-beef peg's had grown. his weathered cheeks were lined from drink, and, as always, his ragged hair was matted against his scalp and the jerkin covering his wide belly was stained brown with spilled grog. inexplicably, women doted on him in taverns the length of the caribbean. "aye, yor ladyship, it may soon have to be. this bawd of yours is near to takin' my last shilling, before she's scarce troubled liftin' her skirts to earn it." he took another swallow of kill-devil from his tankard, then looked imploringly toward winston. "on my honor, cap'n, by the look of it i'm apt to be poor as a country parson by noontide tomorrow." "but you're stayin' all this week with me, john." peg was around the table and on his lap in an instant, her soft brown eyes aglow. "a promise to a lady always has to be kept. else you'll lose your luck." "then shall i be havin' your full measure for the coin of love? it's near to all that's left, i'll take an oath on it. my purse's shriveled as the pope's balls." "for love?" peg rose. "and i suppose i'm to be livin' on this counterfeit you call love. whilst you're off plyin' your sweet talk to some stinkin' dutch whore over on the wild coast." "the damned hollander wenches are all too sottish by half. they'd swill a man's grog faster'n he can call for it." he took another pull from his tankard and glanced admiringly at peg's bulging, half-laced bodice. "but i say deal the cards, m'lady. where there's life, there's hope, as i'm a christian." "and what was it you were saying, love?" joan turned back to winston and poured another splash into his tankard. "i think it was something to do with the new slaves?" "i said i don't like it, and i just might try doing something about it. i just hope there's no trouble here in the meantime." his voice slowly trailed off into the din of the rain. this bother about the slaves was not a bit like him, joan thought. hugh'd never been out to right all the world's many ills. besides, what did he expect? god's wounds, the planters were going to squeeze every shilling they could out of these new africans. everybody knew the caribbees and all the americas were "beyond the line," outside the demarcation on some map somewhere that separated europe from the new world. out here the rules were different. hugh had always understood that better than anybody, so why was he so out of sorts now that the planters had found a replacement for their lazy indentures? heaven can tell, he had wrongs enough of his own to brood about if he wanted to trouble his mind over life's little misfortunes. "what is it really that's occupying your mind so much this trip, love? it can't just be these new slaves. i know you too well for that." she studied him. "is't the sight bills?" "i've been thinking about an idea i've had for a long, long time. seeing what's happened now on barbados, it all fits together somehow." "what're you talking about?" "i'm wondering if maybe it's not time i tried changing a few things." this was definitely a new hugh. he never talked like that in the old days. back then all he ever troubled about was how he was going to manage making a living--a problem he still hadn't worked out, if you want the honest truth. she looked at him now, suddenly so changed, and recollected the first time she ever saw him. it was a full seven years past, just after she'd opened her tavern and while he was still a seaman on the _zeelander_. that dutch ship had arrived with clapboards and staves from portsmouth, rhode island, needed on barbados for houses and tobacco casks. while the _zeelander _was lading barbados cotton for the mills in new england, he'd come in one night with the other members of the dutch crew, and she'd introduced him to one of the girls. but, later on, it was her he'd bought drinks for, not the plump irish colleen he'd been with. and then came the questions. how'd she get on, he wanted to know, living by her wits out here in the new world? where was the money? she'd figured, rightly, that hugh was looking for something, maybe thinking to try and make his own way, as she had. after a while he'd finally ordered a tankard for the pouting girl, then disappeared. but there he was again the next evening, and the one after that too. each time he'd go off with one of the girls, then come back and talk with her. finally one night he did something unheard of. he bought a full flask of kill-devil and proposed they take a walk down to look at the ship. god's life, as though she hadn't seen enough worn-out dutch frigates. . . . then she realized what was happening. this young english mate with a scar on his cheek desired her, was paying court to her. he even seemed to like her. didn't he know she no longer entertained the trade herself? but hugh was different. so, like a fool, she lost sight of her better judgment. later that night, she showed him how a woman differed from a girl. and she still found occasion to remind him from time to time, seven years later. . . . "i want to show you how i came by the idea i've been working on." he abruptly rose and walked back to the bedroom. when he returned he was carrying his two pistols, their long steel barrels damascened with gold and the stocks fine walnut. he placed them carefully on the table, then dropped back into his chair and reached for his tankard. "take a look at those." "god's blood." she glanced at the guns and gave a tiny snort. "every time i see you, you've got another pair." "i like to keep up with the latest designs." "so tell me what's 'latest' about these." "a lot of things. in the first place, the firing mechanism's a flintlock. so when you pull the trigger, the piece of flint there in the hammer strikes against the steel wing on the cap of the powder pan, opening it and firing the powder in a single action. also, the powder pan loads automatically when the barrel's primed. it's faster and better than a matchlock." "that's lovely. but flintlocks have been around for some time, or hadn't you heard?" she looked at the guns and took a sip of sack, amused by his endless fascination with pistols. he'd always been that way, but it was to a purpose. you'd be hard pressed to find a marksman in the caribbees better or faster than hugh--a little talent left over from his time with the cow-killers on tortuga, though for some reason he'd as soon not talk about those years. she glanced down again. "is it just my eyes, or do i see two barrels? now i grant you this is the first time i've come across anything like that. " "congratulations. that's what's new about this design. watch." he lifted up a gun and carefully touched a second trigger, a smaller one in front of the first. the barrel assembly emitted a light click and revolved a half turn, bringing up the second barrel, ready to fire. "see, they're double-barreled. i hear it's called a 'turn-over' mechanism--since when you pull that second trigger, a spring-loaded assembly turns over a new barrel, complete with a primed powder pan." he gripped the muzzle and revolved the barrels back to their initial position. "this design's going to be the coming thing, mark it." he laid the pistol back onto the table. "oh, by the way, there's one other curiosity. have a look there on the breech. can you make out the name?" she lifted one of the flintlocks and squinted in the half-light. just in front of the ornate hammer there was a name etched in gold: "don francisco de castilla." "that's more'n likely the gunsmith who made them. on a fine pistol you'll usually see the maker's name there. you ought to know that." she looked at him. "i didn't suppose you made them yourself, darlin'. i've never seen that name before, but god knows there're lots of spanish pistols around the caribbean. everybody claims they're the best." "that's what i thought the name was too. at first." he lifted his tankard and examined the amber contents. "tell me. how much do you know about jamaica?" "what's that got to do with these pistols?" "one thing at a time. i asked you what you know about jamaica." "no more'n everybody else does. it's a big island somewhere to the west of here, that the spaniards hold. there's supposed to be a harbor and a fortress, and a little settlement they call villa de la vega, with maybe a couple of thousand planters. but that's about all, from what i hear, since the spaniards've never yet found any gold or silver there." she studied him, puzzling. "why're you asking?" "i've been thinking. maybe i'll go over and poke around a bit." he paused, then lowered his voice. "maybe see if i can take the fortress." " 'maybe take the fortress,' you say?" she exploded with laughter and reached for the sack. "i reckon i'd best put away this flask. right now." "you don't think i can do it?" "i hear the spaniards've got heavy cannon in that fortress, and a big militia. even some cavalry. no englishman's going to take it." she looked at him. "not wishing to offend, love, but wouldn't you say that's just a trifle out of your depth?" "i appreciate your expression of confidence." he settled his tankard on the table. "then tell me something else. do you remember jackson?" "the famous 'captain' jackson, you mean?" "captain william jackson." "sure, i recall that lying knave well enough." she snorted. "who could forget him. he was here for two months once, while you were out, and turned barbados upside down, recruiting men to sail against the spaniards' settlements on the main. claiming he was financed by the earl of warwick. he sat drinking every night at this very table, then left me a stack of worthless sight drafts, saying he'd be back in no time to settle them in spanish gold." she studied him for a moment. "that was four years past. the best i know he was never heard from since. for sure _i_ never heard from him." suddenly she leaned forward. "don't tell me you know where he might be?" "not any more. but i learned last year what happened back then. it turns out he got nothing on the main. the spaniards would empty any settlement--maracaibo, puerto cabello--he tried to take. they'd just strip their houses and disappear into the jungle." "so he went back empty-handed?" "wrong. that's what he wanted everybody to think happened. especially the earl of warwick. he kept on going." winston lowered his voice again, beyond reach of the men across the room. "i wouldn't believe what he did next if i didn't have these pistols." he picked up one of the guns and yelled toward the whist table. "john." "aye." mewes was on his feet in an instant, wiping his hand across his mouth. "remember where i got these flintlocks?" "i seem to recall it was virginia. jamestown." he reached down and lifted his tankard for a sip. then he wiped his mouth a second time. "an' if you want my thinkin', they was sold to you by the scurviest- lookin' whoreson that ever claim'd he was english, that i'd not trust with tuppence. an' that's the truth." "well . . ." she leaned back in her chair. "along with the pistols i also got part of the story of jackson's expedition. it seems this man had been with them--claimed he was first mate on the flagship--but he'd finally jumped ship when jackson tried to storm a fortress up on the coast of spanish florida, then made his way north to virginia. he stole these pistols from jackson's cabin the night he swam ashore." "then i've half a mind to confiscate them here and now as payment for my sight drafts." she inspected the guns. "but i still don't follow what that's got to do with jamaica." he picked up one of the pistols again and traced his finger along the flintlock. "the name. don francisco de castilla. i kept thinking and thinking, and finally i remembered. that's not a pistol maker. that's the name of the spanish governor of villa de la vega. jamaica. " "but then how did jackson get them? i never saw these pistols when he was here, and i'd have remembered them, you can be sure." she was staring skeptically at the guns. "that's what i began to wonder. so i tracked down the seller and found out what really happened." he lowered his voice again. "jackson got them from de castilla's personal strongbox. in the fortress. william jackson took jamaica. he got the idea the spaniards'd never be expecting an attack that far from the main, and he was right. so after maracaibo, he made way straight for jamaica. he raised the bay at dawn, brought the fleet together and put in for the harbor. the fortress, the town, all of it, was his in a morning." "but how could he hold the place? as soon as the spaniards over on the main got word, they'd be sure to send a . . ." "he didn't bother. he delivered the town back in return for provisions and a ransom of twenty thousand pieces of eight. split the money with his men and swore them to secrecy. but he kept these pistols." winston smiled. "except now they're mine." "hold a minute. i'm afraid i'm beginning to see what you're thinking." she leaned forward, alarm in her eyes. "so let me tell you a few things. about that little expedition of jackson's. that fast-talking rogue put in here with three armed frigates. he raised over five hundred men and god knows how many muskets. i saw them all off, holding my valuable sight drafts, the day he set sail out of carlisle bay." "but what if i got more men?" "in god's name, who from?" "who do you think?" he ran his fingers through his hair and looked away. "i've been thinking it over for months. well, now i've made up my mind. what the hell are the americas for? slavery?" he looked back. "i'm going to take jamaica, and keep it. it'll be the one place in the new world where there'll be no indentures. no slaves. just free men. the way it was on tortuga." "christ on a cross, you've totally taken leave of sense!" she looked at him dumbfounded. "you'd best stop dreaming about jamaica and put your deep mind to work on how you're going to collect those sight bills from the council. you've got to make a living, love." "the sight bills are part of my plan. as it happens, i expect to settle that very item next friday night." "best of luck." she paused, then pushed back from the table. "god's blood, were you invited?" he looked up from his tankard. "how do you know where i'm going?" "there's only one place it could be. the fancy ball master briggs is holdin' for the council. in his grand new estate house. it's the reason there's not a scrap of taffeta left in the whole of bridgetown. i was trying to buy some all yesterday for the girls." "i have to go. it's the perfect time to see them all together." "and i suppose miss katherine bedford'll be there as well?" her voice had acquired an unmistakable edge. "in her official capacity as 'first lady'?" "oddly enough, i neglected to enquire on that point." "did you now?" she sniffed. "aye, her highness'll be in attendance, and probably wearin' half the taffeta i wanted to buy. not that it'll be made up properly. she'll be there, the strumpet, on my honor. . . ." "what if she is? it's no matter to me." he drank again. "i just want my sight bills paid, in coin as agreed, not in bales of their damned worthless tobacco." she seemed not to hear. ". . . when she's too busy ridin' that mare of hers to so much as nod her bonnet to an honest woman who might have need to make a living. . . ." "all right." he set down his tankard. "i'll take you." "pardon?" "i said _i'll take you_." "now you've gone totally daft." she stared at him, secretly overjoyed he'd consider asking. "can you fancy the scene? me, in amongst all those dowdy puritan sluts! stuffing their fat faces whilst arguing over whether to starve their indentures completely to death. not to mention there'd be general heart seizure in the ranks of the council, the half of which keep open accounts here on the sly. only i'm lucky to get paid in musty tobacco, let alone the coin you 're dreaming of." she laughed. "and i warrant you'll be paid with the same, love. that's assuming you're ever paid at all." "as you will." he took a sip of sack. "but since you're so worried about the women, don't forget who else'll probably be there." "who do you mean?" "remember what the portugals say: '_e a mulata que e mulher'_." "'it's the mulatto who's the real woman.'" she translated the famous pernambuco expression, then frowned. "i suppose you mean that portuguese mulatto master briggs bought for himself when you took them all down to brazil. the one named serina." "the very one. i caught a glimpse of her again last night." "i know her, you rogue. probably better than you do. briggs is always sending her down here for bottles of kill-devil, sayin' he doesn't trust his indentures to get them home. she's a fine-featured woman of the kind, if i say it myself." "finer than briggs deserves." "did you know that amongst the council she's known as his 'pumpkin- colored whore'? those hypocritical puritan whoremasters. i always ask her to stay a bit when she comes. i think she's probably lonely, poor creature. but i can tell you one thing for certain--she takes no great satisfaction in her new owner. or in barbados either, come to that, after the fine plantation she lived on in brazil." she laughed. "something not hard to understand. i'm always amazed to remember she's a slave. probably one of the very first on this island." she looked away reflectively. "though now she's got much company." "too much." "you may be right for once. it's a new day, on my faith, and i don't mind telling you it troubles me a bit. there're apt to be thousands of these africans here soon. there'll be nothing like it anywhere in the americas." she sighed. "but the council's all saying the slaves'll change everything, make them all rich." her voice quickened as she turned back. "do you suppose it's true?" "probably. that's why i plan to try and change a few things too." he looked out at the bay, where a line of brown pelicans glided single file across the tips of waves. the horizon beyond was lost in mist. "my own way." chapter three katherine gazed past the pewter candlesticks and their flickering tapers, down the long cedar table of briggs' dining hall, now piled high with stacks of greasy wooden plates spilling over with half- finished food. the room was wide and deep, with dark oak beams across the ceiling and fresh white plaster walls. around the table were rows of grim men in black hats and plump puritan women in tight bodices and starched collars. for all its surface festivity, there was something almost ominous about the evening. change was in the air, and not change for the better. at the head of the table were the most prominent members of the council, the owners of barbados' largest plantations. she knew the wealthiest ones personally: edward bayes, his jowls protruding beneath his whisp of beard, owned the choicest coastal lands north around speightstown; thomas lancaster, now red-cheeked and glassy-eyed from the liquor, had the largest plantation in the rolling plains of st. george's parish, mid-island; nicholas whittington, dewlapped and portly, was master of a vast acreage in christ's church parish, on the southern coast. anthony walrond had not been invited, nor any other of the new royalist emigres--which she should have known was exactly what was going to happen before she went to all the bother of having a new dress and bodice made up. no, tonight the guests were the rich planters, the old settlers who arrived on barbados in the early years and claimed the best land. they were the ones that dalby bedford, now seated beside her, diplomatically sipping from his tankard, liked to call the "plantocracy." they had gathered to celebrate the beginnings of the sugar miracle. and the new order. the room was alive with an air of expectancy, almost as palpable as the smoke that drifted in through the open kitchen door. benjamin briggs' banquet and ball, purportedly a celebration, was in truth something more like a declaration: the assembly, that elected body created by dalby bedford from among the small freeholders, would soon count for nothing in the face of the big planters' new wealth and power. henceforth, this flagship of the americas would be controlled by the men who owned the most land and the most slaves. the worst part of all, she told herself, was that briggs' celebration would probably last till dawn. though the banquet was over now, the ball was about to commence. and after that, briggs had dramatically announced, there would be a special preview of his new sugarworks, the first on the island. in hopes of reinforcing her spirits, she took another sip of canary wine, then lifted her glass higher, to study the room through its wavy refractions. now briggs seemed a distorted, comical pygmy as he ordered the servants to pass more bottles of kill-devil down the table, where the planters and their wives continued to slosh it into their pewter tankards of lemon punch. after tonight, she found herself thinking, the whole history of the americas might well have to be rewritten. barbados would soon be england's richest colony, and unless the assembly held firm, these few greedy puritans would seize control. all thanks to sugar. right there in the middle of it all was hugh winston, looking a little melancholy and pensive. he scarcely seemed to notice as several toasts to his health went round the table--salutes to the man who'd made sugar possible. he obviously didn't care a damn about sugar. he was too worried about getting his money. as well he should be, she smiled to herself. he'll never see it. not a farthing. anybody could tell that briggs and the council hadn't the slightest intention of settling his sight bills. he didn't impress them for a minute with those pretty spanish pistols in his belt. they'd stood up to a lot better men than him. besides, there probably weren't two thousand pounds in silver on the whole island. like all the american settlements, barbados' economy existed on barter and paper; everything was valued in weights of tobacco or cotton. metal money was almost never seen; in fact, it was actually against the law to export coin from england to the americas. the whole council together couldn't come up with that much silver. he could forget about settling his sight bills in specie. "i tell you this is the very thing every man here'll need if he's to sleep nights." briggs voice cut through her thoughts. he was at the head of the table, describing the security features of his new stone house. "mind you, it's not yet finished." he gestured toward the large square staircase leading up toward the unpainted upper floors. "but it's already secure as the tower of london." she remembered briggs had laid the first stone of his grand new plantation house in the weeks after his return from brazil, in anticipation of the fortune he expected to make from sugar, and he had immediately christened it "briggs hall." the house and its surrounding stone wall were actually a small fortress. the dining room where they sat now was situated to one side of the wide entry foyer, across from the parlor and next to the smoky kitchen, a long stone room set off to the side. there were several small windows along the front and back of the house, but these could all be sealed tight with heavy shutters--a measure as much for health as safety, since the planters believed the cool night breeze could induce dangerous chills and "hot paroxysms." maybe he thought he needed such a house. maybe, she told herself, he did. he already had twenty indentures, and he'd just bought thirty africans. the island now expected more slave cargos almost weekly. as she listened, she found herself watching hugh winston, wondering what the council's favorite smuggler thought of it all. well, at the moment he looked unhappy. he seemed to find briggs' lecture on the new need for security either pathetic or amusing--his eyes were hard to make out--but she could tell from his glances round the table he found something ironic about the need for a stone fort in the middle of a caribbean island. briggs suddenly interrupted his monologue and turned to signal his servants to begin placing trenchers of clay pipes and virginia tobacco down the table. a murmur of approval went up when the planters saw it was imported, not the musty weed raised on barbados. the appearance of the tobacco signaled the official end of the food. as the gray-shirted servants began packing and firing the long-stemmed pipes, then kneeling to offer them to the tipsy planters, several of the more robust wives present rose with a grateful sigh. holding their new gowns away from the ant-repellent tar smeared along the legs of the table and chairs, they began retiring one by one to the changing room next to the kitchen, where briggs' irish maidservants could help loosen their tight bodices in preparation for the ball. katherine watched the women file past, then cringed as she caught the first sound of tuning fiddles from the large room opposite the entryway. what was the rest of the evening going to be like? surely the banquet alone was enough to prove briggs was now the most powerful man in barbados, soon perhaps in all the americas. he had truly outdone himself. even the servants were saying it was the grandest night the island had ever seen--and predicting it was only the first of many to come. the indentures themselves had all dined earlier on their usual fare of loblolly cornmeal mush, sweet potatoes, and hyacinth beans--though tonight they were each given a small allowance of pickled turtle in honor of the banquet. but for the council and their wives, briggs had dressed an expensive imported beef as the centerpiece of the table. the rump had been boiled, and the brisket, along with the cheeks, roasted. the tongue and tripe had been minced and baked into pies, seasoned with sweet herbs, spices, and currants. the beef had been followed by a dish of scots collops of pork; then a young kid goat dressed in its own blood and thyme, with a pudding in its belly; and next a sweet suckling pig in a sauce of brains, sage, and nutmeg mulled in claret wine. after that had come a shoulder of mutton and a side of goat, both covered with a rasher of bacon, then finally baked rabbit and a loin of veal. and as though that weren't enough to allow every planter there to gorge himself to insensibility, there were also deep bowls of potato pudding and dishes of baked plantains, prickly pear, and custard apples. at the end came the traditional cold meats, beginning with roast duck well larded, then spanish bacon, pickled oysters, and fish roe. with it all was the usual kill-devil, as well as canary wine, sherry, and red sack from madeira. when the grease-stained table had been cleared and the pipes lighted, briggs announced the after-dinner cordial. a wide bowl of french brandy appeared before him, and into it the servants cracked a dozen large hen eggs. then a generous measure of sugar was poured in and the mixture vigorously stirred. finally he called for a burning taper, took it himself, and touched the flame to the brandy. the fumes hovering over the dish billowed into a huge yellow blossom, and the table erupted with a cheer. after the flame had died away, the servants began ladling out the mixture and passing portions down the table. katherine sipped the sweet, harsh liquid and watched as two of the planters sitting nearby, their clay pipes billowing, rose unsteadily and hoisted their cups for a toast. the pair smelled strongly of sweat and liquor. they weren't members of the council, but both would also be using the new sugar-works--for a percentage--after briggs had finished with his own cane, since their plantations were near briggs' and neither could afford the investment to build his own. one was thomas lockwood, a short, brooding cornwall bachelor who now held a hundred acres immediately north of briggs' land, and the other was william marlott, a thin, nervous suffolk merchant who had repaired to barbados with his consumptive wife ten years before and had managed to accumulate eighty acres upland, all now planted in cane. "to the future of sugar on barbados," lockwood began, his voice slurred from the kill-devil. then marlott joined in, "and a fine fortune to every man at this table." a buzz of approval circled the room, and with a scrape of chairs all the other men pulled themselves to their feet and raised their cups. katherine was surprised to see hugh winston lean back in his chair, his own cup sitting untouched on the boards. he'd been drinking all evening, but now his eyes had acquired an absent gaze as he watched the hearty congratulations going around. after the planters had drunk, briggs turned to him with a querulous expression. "where's your thirst, captain? will you not drink to the beginnings of english prosperity in the caribbees? sure, it's been a long time coming." "you'll be an even longer time paying the price." it was virtually the first time winston had spoken all evening, and his voice was subdued. there was a pause, then he continued, his voice still quiet. "so far all sugar's brought you is slavery. and prisons for homes, when it was freedom that englishmen came to the americas for. or so i've heard claimed." "now sir, every man's got a right to his own mind on a thing, i always say. but the caribbees were settled for profit, first and foremost. let's not lose sight of that." briggs smiled indulgently and settled his cup onto the table. "for that matter, what's all this 'freedom' worth if you've not a farthing in your pocket? we've tried everything else, and it's got to be sugar. it's the real future of the americas, depend on it. which means we've got to work a batch of africans, plain as that, and pay mind they don't get out of hand. we've tried it long enough to know these white indentures can't, or won't, endure the labor to make sugar. try finding me a white man who'll cut cane all day in the fields. that's why every spoon of that sweet powder an english gentlewoman stirs into her china cup already comes from a black hand in chains. it's always been, it'll always be. for sure it'll be the papist spaniards and portugals still holding the chains if not us." winston, beginning to look a bit the worse for drink, seemed not to hear. "which means you're both on the end of a chain, one way or another." "well, sir, that's as it may be." briggs settled back into his chair. "but you've only to look at the matter to understand there's nothing to compare with sugar. ask any papist. now i've heard said it was first discovered in cathay, but we all know sugar's been the monopoly of the spaniards and portugals for centuries. till now. mind you, the men in this room are the first englishmen who've ever learned even how to plant the cane--not with seeds, but by burying sections of stalk." katherine braced herself for what would come next. she had heard it all so many times before, she almost knew his text by heart. "we all know that if the dutchmen hadn't taken that piece of brazil from the portugals, sugar'd be the secret of the papists still. so this very night we're going to witness the beginning of a new history of the world. english sugar." "aye," edward bayes interrupted, pausing to wipe his beard against his sleeve. "we've finally found something we can grow here in the caribbees that'll have a market worldwide. show me the fine lord who doesn't have his cook lade sugar into every dish on his table. or the cobbler, one foot in the almshouse, who doesn't use all the sugar he can buy or steal." bayes beamed, his red-tinged eyes aglow in the candlelight. "and that's only today, sir. i tell you, only today. the market for sugar's just beginning." "not a doubt," briggs continued. "consider the new fashion just starting up in london for drinking coffee, and chocolate. there's a whole new market for sugar, since they'll not be drunk without it." he shoved aside his cup of punch and reached to pour a fresh splash of kill-devil into his tankard. "in faith, sugar's about to change forever the way englishmen eat, and drink, and live." "and i'll wager an acre of land here'll make a pound of sugar for every pound of tobacco it'll grow." lockwood rose again. "when sugar'll bring who knows how many times the price. if we grow enough cane on barbados, and buy ourselves enough of these africans to bring it in, we'll be underselling the papists in five years' time, maybe less." "aye." briggs seconded lockwood, eyeing him as he drank. it was common knowledge that briggs held eighteen-month sight drafts from the planter, coming due in a fortnight. katherine looked at the two of them and wondered how long it would be before the better part of lockwood's acres were incorporated into the domain of briggs hall. "well, i kept my end of our bargain, for better or worse." winston's voice lifted over the din of the table. "now it's time for yours. two thousand pounds were what we agreed on, in coin. spanish pieces-of- eight, english sovereigns--there's little difference to me." it's come, katherine thought. but he'll not raise a shilling. briggs was suddenly scrutinizing his tankard as an uneasy quiet settled around the table. "it's a hard time for us all just now, sir." he looked up. "six months more and we'll have sugar to sell to the dutchmen. but as it is today . . ." "that's something you should've thought about when you signed those sight drafts." "i'd be the first one to grant you that point, sir, the very first." briggs' face had assumed an air of contrition. "but what's done's done." he placed his rough hands flat down on the table, as though to symbolize they were empty. "we've talked it over, and the best we can manage now's to roll them over, with interest, naturally. what would you say to . . . five percent?" "that wasn't the understanding." winston's voice was quiet, but his eyes narrowed. "well, sir. that's the terms we're prepared to offer." briggs' tone hardened noticeably. "in this world it's the wise man who takes what he can get." "the sight bills are for cash on demand." winston's voice was still faint, scarcely above a whisper. katherine listened in dismay, realizing she'd secretly been hoping he could stand up to the council. just to prove somebody could. and now . . . "damn your sight bills, sir. we've made you our offer." briggs exchanged glances with the other members of the council. "in truth, it'd be in the interest of all of us here to just have them declared worthless paper." "you can't rightfully do that." winston drank again. "they have full legal standing." "we have courts here, sir, that could be made to take the longer view. to look to the interests of the island." "there're still courts in england. if we have to take it that far." "but you'll not be going back there, sir. we both know it'd take years." briggs grinned. "and i'll warrant you'd get more justice in england than you bargained for, if you had the brass to try it." "that remains to be seen." winston appeared trying to keep his voice firm. "but there'll be no need for that. i seem to recall the terms give me recourse--the right to foreclose. without notice." "foreclose?" briggs seemed unsure he had caught the word. "since you co-signed all the notes yourself, i won't have to bother with the rest of the council," winston continued. "i can just foreclose on you personally. remember you pledged this plantation as collateral." "that was a formality. and it was two years past." briggs laughed. "before i built this house. and the sugarworks. at the time there was nothing on this property but a thatched-roof bungalow." "formality or not, the drafts pledge these acres and what's on them." "well, damn you, sir." briggs slammed down his tankard. "you'll not get . . ." "mind you, i don't have any use for the land," winston interjected. "so why don't we just make it the sugarworks? that ought to about cover what's owed." he looked back. "if i present the notes in bridgetown tomorrow morning, we can probably just transfer ownership then and there. what do you say to that arrangement?" "you've carried this jest quite far enough, sir." briggs' face had turned the color of the red prickly-pear apples on the table. "we all need that sugarworks. you'll not be getting your hands on it. i presume i speak for all the council when i say we'll protect our interests. if you try foreclosing on that sugarworks, i'll call you out. i've a mind to anyway, here and now. for your damned impudence." he abruptly pushed back from the table, his doublet falling open to reveal the handle of a pistol. several council members shoved back also. all had flintlock pistols in their belts, the usual precaution in an island of unruly indentures. winston appeared not to notice. "i see no reason for anyone to get killed over a little business transaction." briggs laughed again. "no sir, i suppose you'd rather just try intimidating us with threats of foreclosure. but by god, if you think you can just barge in here and fleece the council of barbados, you've miscalculated. it's time you learned a thing or two about this island," he continued, his voice rising. "just because you like to strut about with a pair of fancy flintlocks in your belt, don't think we'll all heel to your bluff." he removed his dark hat and threw it on the table. it matched the black velvet of his doublet. "you can take our offer, or you can get off my property, here and now." katherine caught the determined looks in the faces of several members of the council as their hands dropped to their belts. she suddenly wondered if it had all been planned. was this what they'd been waiting for? they must have known he'd not accept their offer, and figured there was a cheaper way to manage the whole business anyway. a standoff with pistols, winston against them all. "i still think it'd be better to settle this honorably." winston looked down and his voice trailed off, but there was a quick flash of anger in his bloodshot eyes. slowly he picked up his tankard and drained it. as the room grew silent, he coughed at the harshness of the liquor, then began to toy with the lid, flipping the thumb mechanism attached to the hinged top and watching it flap open and shut. he heaved a sigh, then abruptly leaned back and lobbed it in the general direction of the staircase. as the tankard began its trajectory, he was on his feet, kicking away his chair. there was the sound of a pistol hammer being cocked and the hiss of a powder pan. then the room flashed with an explosion from his left hand, where a pistol had appeared from out of his belt. at that moment the lid of the tankard seemed to disconnect in midair, spinning sideways as it ricocheted off the post of carved mastic wood at the top of the stairs. the pistol clicked, rotating up the under-barrel, and the second muzzle spoke. this time the tankard emitted a sharp ring and tumbled end over end till it slammed against the railing. finally it bounced to rest against the cedar wainscot of the hallway, a small, centered hole directly through the bottom. the shorn lid was still rolling plaintively along the last step of the stairs. the entire scene had taken scarcely more than a second. katherine looked back to see him still standing; he had dropped the flintlock onto the table, both muzzles trailing wisps of gray smoke, while his right hand gripped the stock of the other pistol, still in his belt. "you can deduct that from what's owed." his eyes went down the table. briggs sat motionless in his chair staring at the tankard, while the other planters all watched him in expectant silence. finally he picked up his hat and settled it back on his head without a word. slowly, one by one, the other men closed their doublets over their pistols and nervously reached for their tankards. after a moment winston carefully reached for his chair and straightened it up. he did not sit. "you'll be welcome to buy back the sugarworks any time you like. just collect the money and settle my sight bills." the room was still caught in silence, till finally briggs found his voice. "but the coin's not to be had, sir. try and be reasonable. i tell you we'd not find it on the whole of the island." "then maybe i'll just take something else." he reached out and seized the motley gray shirt of timothy farrell, now tiptoeing around the table carrying a fresh flask of kill-devil to briggs. the terrified irishman dropped the bottle with a crash as winston yanked him next to the table. "men. and provisions." briggs looked momentarily disoriented. "i don't follow you, sir. what would you be doing with them?" "that's my affair. just give me two hundred indentures, owned by the men on the council who signed the sight drafts." he paused. "that should cover about half the sum. i'll take the balance in provisions. then you can all have your sight bills to burn." now briggs was studying the tankard in front of him, his eyes shining in the candlelight. "two hundred indentures and you'd be willing to call it settled?" "to the penny." in the silence that followed, the rasp of a fiddle sounded through the doorway, followed by the shrill whine of a recorder. briggs yelled for quiet, then turned back. "there may be some merit in what you're proposing." he glanced up at farrell, watching the indenture flee the room as winston released his greasy shirt. "yes sir, i'm thinking your proposal has some small measure of merit. i don't know about the other men here, but i can already name you a number of these layabouts i could spare." he turned to the planters next to him, and several nodded agreement. "aye, i'd have us talk more on it." he pushed back his chair and rose unsteadily from the table. the other planters took this as a signal, and as one man they scraped back their chairs and began to nervously edge toward the women, now clustered under the arches leading into the dancing room. "when the time's more suitable." "tomorrow, then." "give us till tomorrow night, sir. after we've had some time to parlay." briggs nodded, then turned and led the crowd toward the sound of the fiddles, relief in his eyes. katherine sat unmoving, dreading the prospect of having to dance with any of the drunken planters. she watched through the dim candlelight as winston reached for an open flask of kill-devil, took a triumphant swig, then slammed it down. she suddenly realized the table had been entirely vacated save for the two of them. the audacity! of course it had all been a bluff. anyone should have been able to tell. he'd just wanted the indentures all along. but why? "i suppose congratulations are in order, captain." "pardon?" he looked up, not recognizing her through the smoke and flickering shadows. "forgive me, madam, i didn't catch what you said." "congratulations. that was a fine show you put on with your pistol." he seemed momentarily startled, but then he laughed at his own surprise and took another swig of kill-devil. "thank you very much." he wiped his mouth, set down the bottle, and glanced back. "forgive me if i disturbed your evening." "where did you learn to shoot like that?" "i used to do a bit of hunting." "have you ever actually shot a man?" "not that i choose to remember." "i thought so. it really was a bluff." her eyebrows lifted. "so may i enquire what is it you propose doing now with your two hundred men and provisions?" "you're miss bedford, if i'm not mistaken." he rose, finally making her out. "i don't seem to recall our being introduced." he bowed with a flourish. "hugh winston, your most obedient servant." then he reached for the flask of kill-devil as he lowered back into his chair. "i'd never presume to address a . . . lady unless we're properly acquainted." she found the hint of sarcasm in his tone deliberately provoking. she watched as he took another drink directly from the bottle. "i don't seem to recall ever seeing you speak with a lady, captain." "you've got a point." his eyes twinkled. "perhaps it's because there're so few out here in the caribbees." "or could it be you're not aware of the difference?" his insolent parody of politeness had goaded her into a tone not entirely to her own liking. "so i've sometimes been told." again his voice betrayed his pleasure. "but then i doubt there is much, really." he grinned. "at least, by the time they get around to educating me on that topic." as happened only rarely, she couldn't think of a sufficiently cutting riposte. she was still searching for one when he continued, all the while examining her in the same obvious way he'd done on the shore. "excuse me, but i believe you enquired about something. the men and provisions, i believe it was. the plain answer is i plan to take them and leave barbados, as soon as i can manage." "and where is it you expect you'll be going?" she found her footing again, and this time she planned to keep it. "let's say, on a little adventure. to see a new part of the world." he was staring at her through the candlelight. "i've had about enough of this island of yours. miss bedford. as well as the new idea that slavery's going to make everybody rich. i'm afraid it's not my style." "but i gather you're the man responsible for our noble new order here, captain." he looked down at the flask, his smile vanishing. "if that's true, i'm not especially proud of the fact." at last she had him. all his arrogance had dissolved. just like jeremy, that time she asked him to tell her what exactly he'd done in the battle at marsten moor. yet for some reason she pulled back, still studying him. "it's hard to understand you, captain. you help them steal sugarcane from the portugals, then you decide you don't like it." "at the time it was a job. miss bedford. let's say i've changed my mind since then. things didn't turn out exactly the way i'd figured they would." he took another drink, then set down the bottle and laughed. "that always seems to be the way." "what do you mean?" "it's something like the story of my life." his tone waxed slightly philosophical as he stared at the flickering candle. "i always end up being kicked about by events. so now i've decided to try turning things around. do a little kicking of my own." "that's a curious ambition. i suppose these indentures are going to help you do it?" she was beginning to find him more interesting than she'd expected. "you said just now you learned to shoot by hunting. i know a lot of men who hunt, but i've never seen anything like what you did tonight. where exactly did you learn that?" he paused, wondering how much to say. the place, of course, was tortuga, and these days that meant the cow-killers, men who terrified the settlers of the caribbean. but this wasn't a woman he cared to frighten. he was beginning to like her brass, the way she met his eye. maybe, he thought, he'd explain it all to her if he got a chance someday. but not tonight. the story was too long, too painful, and ended too badly. his memories of tortuga went back to the sultry autumn of . just a year before, that little island had been taken over by a group of english planters--men and women who'd earlier tried growing tobacco up on st. christopher, only to run afoul of its carib indians and their poisoned arrows. after looking around for another island, they'd decided on tortuga, where nobody lived then except for a few hunters of wild cattle, the cow-killers. since the hunters themselves spent a goodly bit of their time across the channel on the big spanish island of hispaniola, tortuga was all but empty. but now these planters were living just off the northern coast of a major spanish domain, potentially much more dangerous than merely having a few indians about. so they petitioned the newly formed providence company in london to swap a shipment of cannon for a tobacco contract. the company, recently set up by some puritan would-be privateers, happily agreed. enter hugh winston. he'd just been apprenticed for three months to the company by his royalist parents, intended as a temporary disciplining for some unpleasant reflections he'd voiced on the character of king charles that summer after coming home from his first term at oxford. lord winston and his wife lady brett, knowing he despised the puritans for their hypocrisy, assumed this would be the ideal means to instill some royalist sympathies. as it happened, two weeks later the providence company posted this unwelcome son of two prominent monarchists out to tortuga on the frigate delivering their shipment of guns. no surprise, governor hilton of the island's puritan settlement soon had little use for him either. after he turned out to show no more reverence for puritans than for the monarchy, he was sent over to hunt on hispaniola with the cow-killers. that's where he had to learn to shoot if he was to survive. as things turned out, being banished there probably saved his life. when the spaniards got word of this new colony, with englishmen pouring in from london and bristol, the audiencia of santo domingo, the large spanish city on hispaniola's southern side, decided to make an example. so in january of they put together an assault force of some two hundred fifty infantry, sailed into tortuga's harbor, and staged a surprise attack. as they boasted afterward, they straightaway put to the sword all those they first captured, then hanged any others who straggled in later. by the time they'd finished, they'd burned the settlement to the ground and killed over six hundred men, women and children. they also hanged a few of the cow-killers--a mistake that soon changed history. when jacques le basque, the bearded leader of hispaniola's hunters, found out what had happened to his men, he vowed he was going to bankrupt and destroy spain's new world empire in revenge. from what was heard these days, he seemed well on his way to succeeding. hugh winston had been there, a founding member of that band of men now known as the most vicious marauders the world had ever seen. that was the piece of his life he'd never gotten around to telling anyone. . . . "i did some hunting when i was apprenticed to an english settlement here in the caribbean. years ago." "well, i must say you shoot remarkably well for a tobacco planter, captain." she knew he was avoiding her question. why? "i thought i'd just explained. i also hunted some in those days." he took another drink, then sought to shift the topic. "perhaps now i can be permitted to ask you a question, miss bedford. i'd be interested to know what you think of the turn things are taking here? that is, in your official capacity as first lady of this grand settlement." "what exactly do you mean?" god damn his supercilious tone. "the changes ahead. here on barbados." he waved his hand. "will everybody grow rich, the way they're claiming?" "some of the landowners are apt to make a great deal of money, if sugar prices hold." why, she wondered, did he want to know? was he planning to try and settle down? or get into the slave trade himself? in truth, that seemed more in keeping with what he did for a living now. "some? and why only some?" he examined her, puzzling. "every planter must already own a piece of this suddenly valuable land." "the council members and the other big landowners are doubtless thinking to try and force out the smaller freeholders, who'll not have a sugarworks and therefore be at their mercy." she began to toy deliberately with her glass, uncomfortable at the prospect she was describing. "it's really quite simple, captain. i'm sure you can grasp the basic principles of commerce . . . given your line of work." "no little fortunes? just a few big ones?" oddly, he refused to be baited. "you've got it precisely. but what does that matter to you? you don't seem to care all that much what happens to our small freeholders." "if that's true, it's a sentiment i probably share with most of the people who were at this table tonight." he raised the empty flask of kill-devil and studied it thoughtfully against the candle. "so if briggs and the rest are looking to try and take it all, then i'd say you're in for a spell of stormy weather here, miss bedford." "well, their plans are far from being realized, that i promise you. our assembly will stand up to them all the way." "then i suppose i should wish you, and your father, and your assembly luck. you're going to need it." he flung the empty flask crashing into the fireplace, rose, and moved down the table. the light seemed to catch in his scar as he passed the candle. "and now perhaps you'll favor me with the next dance." she looked up, startled, as he reached for her hand. "captain, i think you ought to know that i'm planning to be married." "to one of these rich planters, i presume." "to a gentleman, if you know what that is. and a man who would not take it kindly if he knew i was seen with you here tonight." "oh?" "yes. anthony walrond." winston erupted with laughter. "well, good for him. he also has superb taste in flintlock muskets. please tell him that when next you see him." "you mean the ones you stole from his ship that went aground? i don't expect he would find that comment very amusing." "wouldn't he now." winston's eyes flashed. "well, damned to him. and if you want to hear something even less amusing than that, ask him sometime to tell you why i took those muskets." he reached for her hand. "at any rate, i'd like to dance with his lovely fiancee." "i've already told you . . ." "but it's so seldom a man like me is privileged to meet a true lady." his smile suddenly turned gracious. "as you were thoughtful enough to point out only a few moments ago. why not humor me? i don't suppose you're his property. you seem a trifle too independent for that." anthony would doubtless be infuriated, but she found herself smiling back. anyway, how would he ever find out? none of these puritans even spoke to him. besides, what else was there to do? sit and stare at the greasy tankards on the table? . . . but what exactly had hugh winston meant about anthony's muskets? "very well. just one." "i'm flattered." he was sweeping her through the archway, into the next room. the fiddles were just starting a new tune, while the planters and their wives lined up facing each other, beginning the country dance flaunting two. as couples began to step forward one by one, then whirl down the room in turns to the music, katherine found herself joining the end of the women's line. moments later winston bowed to her, heels together, then spun her down the makeshift corridor between the lines. he turned her away from him, then back, elegantly, in perfect time with the fiddle bows. the dance seemed to go on forever, as bodies smelling of sweat and kill-devil jostled together in the confinement of the tiny room. yet it was invigorating, purging all her misgivings over the struggle that lay ahead. when she moved her body to her will like this, she felt in control of everything. as if she were riding, the wind hard against her cheek. then, as now, she could forget about anthony, the council, about everything. why couldn't all of life be managed the same way? when the dance finally concluded, the fiddlers scarcely paused before striking up another. "just one more?" he was bending over, saying something. "what?" she looked up at him, not hearing his words above the music and noise and bustle of the crowd. whatever it was he'd said, it couldn't be all that important. she reached for his hand and guided him into the next dance. a loud clanging resounded through the room, causing the fiddles to abruptly halt and startling katherine, who found herself alarmed less by the sound than by the deadening return of reality. she looked around to see benjamin briggs standing in the center of the floor, slamming a large bell with a mallet. "attention gentlemen and ladies, if you please." he was shouting, even though the room had gone silent. "all's ready. the sugarworks start-up is now. " there was general applause around the room. he waited till it died away, then continued, in a more moderate tone. "i presume the ladies will prefer to retire above stairs rather than chance the night air. there's feather beds and hammocks ready, and the servants'll bring the candles and chamber pots." winston listened in mock attentiveness, then leaned over toward katherine. "then i must bid you farewell, miss bedford. and lose you to more worthy companions." she looked at him dumbly, her blood still pumping from the dance. the exhilaration and release were the very thing she'd been needing. "i have no intention of missing the grand start-up." she tried to catch her breath. "it's to be history in the making, don't you recall?" "that it truly will be." he shrugged. "but are you sure the sugar-works is any place for a woman?" "as much as a man." she glared back at him. "there's a woman there already, captain. briggs' mulatto. i heard him say she's in the boiling house tonight, showing one of the new africans how to heat the sap. she supposedly ran one once in brazil." "maybe she just told him that to avoid the dance." he turned and watched the planters begin filing out through the wide rear door. "shall we join them, then?" as they walked out into the courtyard, the cool night air felt delicious against her face and sweltering bodice. at the back of the compound briggs was opening a heavy wooden gate in the middle of the ten-foot-high stone wall that circled his house. "these africans'll make all the difference, on my faith. it's already plain as can be." he cast a withering glance at katherine as she and winston passed, then he followed them through, ordering the servants to secure the gate. the planters were assembled in a huddle now, surrounded by several of briggs' indentures holding candle-lanterns. he took up his place at the front of the crowd and began leading them down the muddy road toward the torch-lit sugarworks lying to the left of the plantation house. along the road were the thatched cabins of the indentured servants, and beyond these was a cluster of half-finished reed and clay huts, scarcely head high, that the africans had begun constructing for themselves. "they're sound workers, for all their peculiar ways." briggs paused and pointed to a large drum resting in front of one of the larger huts. it was shaped like an hourglass, and separate goatskins had been stretched over each mouth and laced together, end to end. "what do you make of that contrivance? the first thing they did was start making this drum. and all this morning, before sunup, they were pounding on it. damnedest racket this side of hell." "aye, mine did the very same," lancaster volunteered. "i heard them drumming all over the island." briggs walked on. "they gathered 'round that yoruba called atiba, who's shaking some little seashells on a tray and chanting some of their gabble. after a time he'd say something to one of them and then there'd be more drumming." he shook his head in amazement. "idolatry worse'n the papists." "i've a mind to put a stop to it," whittington interjected. "the indentures are already complaining." "it's a bother, i grant you. but i see no harm in their customs, long as they put in a day's work. the place i drew the line was when they started trying to bathe in my pond every night, when any christian knows baths are a threat to health. but for it all, one of them will cut more cane than three irishmen." he cast a contemptuous glance backward at timothy farrell, who was following at a distance, holding several bottles of kill-devil. "from sunup to sundown. good workers, to the man. so if they choose to beat on drums, i say let them. it's nothing from my pocket." katherine watched winston shake his head in dismay as he paused to pick up the drum, turning it in his hands. "you seem troubled about their drumming, captain. why's that?" he looked up at her, almost as though he hadn't heard. "you've never been to brazil, have you, miss bedford?" "i have not." "then you probably wouldn't believe me, even if i told you." he looked back at the huts and seemed to be talking to himself. "god damn these englishmen. they're fools." "it's surely some kind of their african music." "obviously." his voice had a sarcastic cut, which she didn't particularly like. but before she could reply to him in kind, he had set down the drum and moved on, seeming to have forgotten all about whatever it was that had so distressed him the moment before. then he turned back to her. "may i enquire if you yourself play an instrument, miss bedford?" "i once played the spinet." she reached down and picked up a small land crab wandering across their path. she examined it, then flung it aside, its claws flailing. "but i don't bother anymore." he watched the crab bemusedly, then turned back. "then you do know something about music?" "we're not without some rudiments of education here on barbados, captain." "and languages? have you ever listened to these yoruba talk? theirs is a language of tones, you know. same as their drums." "some of these new africans have a curious-sounding speech, i grant you." he stared at her a moment, as though preoccupied. "god help us all." he might have said more, but then he glanced after the crowd, now moving down the road. ahead of them a gang of blacks could be seen through the torchlight, carrying bundles of cane in from the field and stacking them in piles near the new mill, situated atop a slight rise. a group of white indentured workers was also moving cane toward the mill from somewhere beyond the range of the torchlight, whipping forward a team of oxen pulling a large two-wheeled cart stacked with bundles. she noticed winston seemed in no great hurry, and instead appeared to be listening absently to the planters. "would you believe this is the very same cane we brought from brazil?" briggs was pointing toward a half-cut field adjacent to the road. "i planted october a year ago, just before the autumn rains. it's been sixteen months almost to the day, just like the dutchmen said." he turned back to the crowd of planters. "the indentures weeded and dunged it, but i figured the africans would be best for cutting it, and i was right. born field workers. they'll be a godsend if they can be trained to run the sugarworks." he lowered his voice. "this is the last we'll need of these idling white indentures." they were now approaching the mill, which was situated inside a new thatched-roof building. intended for crushing the cane and extracting the juice, it would be powered by two large white oxen shipped down specially from rhode island. the mill was a mechanism of three vertical brass rollers, each approximately a foot in diameter, that were cogged together with teeth around their top and bottom. a large round beam was secured through the middle of the central roller and attached to two long sweeps that extended outward to a circular pathway intended for the draft animals. when the sweeps were moved, the beam would rotate and with it the rollers. "we just finished installing the rollers tonight. there was no chance to test it. but i explained the operation to the indentures. we'll see if they can remember." an ox had been harnessed to each of the two sweeps; as briggs approached he signaled the servants to whip them forward. the men nodded and lashed out at the animals, who snorted, tossed their heads, then began to trudge in a circular path around the mill. immediately the central roller began to turn, rotating the outer rollers against it by way of its cogs. as the rollers groaned into movement, several of the indentures backed away and studied them nervously. "well, what are you waiting for?" briggs yelled at the two men standing nearest the mill, holding the first bundles of cane. "go ahead and try feeding it through." one of the men moved gingerly toward the grinding rollers and reached out, at arm's length, to feed a small bundle consisting of a half dozen stalks of cane into the side rotating away from him. there was a loud crackle as the bundle began to gradually disappear between the rollers. as the crushed cane stalks emerged on the rear side of the mill, a second indenture seized the flattened bundle and fed it back through the pair of rollers turning in the opposite direction. in moments a trickle of pale sap began sliding down the sides of the rollers and dripping into a narrow trough that led through the wall and down the incline toward the boiling house. briggs walked over to the trough and examined the running sap in silence. then he dipped in a finger and took it to his lips. he savored it for a moment, looked up, triumph in his eyes, and motioned the other men forward. "have a taste. it's the sweetest nectar there could ever be." as the planters gathered around the trough sampling the first cane juice, indentures continued feeding a steady progression of cane bundles between the rollers. while the planters stood watching, the trough began to flow. "it works, by christ." marlott emitted a whoop and dipped in for a second taste. "the first english sugar mill in all the world." "we've just witnessed that grand historic moment, miss bedford." winston turned back to her, his voice sardonic. "in a little more time, these wonderful sugarmills will probably cover barbados. together with the slaves needed to cut the cane for them. i'd wager that in a few years' time there'll be more africans here than english. what we've just witnessed is not the beginning of the great english caribbees, but the first step toward what'll one day be the great african caribbees. i suggest we take time to savor it well." his voice was drowned in the cheer rising up from the cluster of planters around briggs. they had moved on down the incline now and were standing next to the boiling house, watching as the sap began to collect in a tank. briggs scrutinized the tank a moment longer, then turned to the group. "this is where the sap's tempered with wet ashes just before it's boiled. that's how the portugals do it. from here it runs through that trough,"--he indicated a second flow, now starting-- "directly into the first kettle in the boiling house." he paused and gestured farrell to bring the flasks forward. "i propose we take time to fortify ourselves against the heat before going in." "shall we proceed?" winston was pointing down the hill. then he laughed. "or would you like some liquor first?" "please." she pushed past him and headed down the incline. they reached the door of the boiling house well before the planters, who were lingering at the tank, passing the flask. winston ducked his head at the doorway and they passed through a wide archway and into a thatched- roof enclosure containing a long, waist-high furnace of dutch brick. in the back, visible only from the light of the open furnace door, were two figures: briggs' new yoruba slave atiba and his portuguese mistress, serina. katherine, who had almost forgotten how beautiful the mulatto was, found herself slightly relieved that serina was dressed in perfect modesty. she wore a full-length white shift, against which her flawless olive skin fairly glowed in the torchlight. as they entered, she was speaking animatedly with atiba while bending over to demonstrate how to feed dry cane tops into the small openings along the side of the furnace. when she spotted them, however, she pulled suddenly erect and fell silent, halting in mid-sentence. the heat in the room momentarily took away katherine's breath, causing her to stand in startled disorientation. it was only then that she realized hugh winston was pulling at her sleeve. something in the scene apparently had taken him completely by surprise. then she realized what it was. serina had been speaking to the tall, loincloth-clad yoruba in an alien language that sounded almost like a blend of musical tones and stops. now the planters began barging through the opening, congratulating briggs as they clustered around the string of copper cauldrons cemented into the top of the long furnace. then, as the crowd watched expectantly, a trickle of cane sap flowed down from the holding tank and spattered into the first red-hot cauldron. the men erupted with a cheer and whipped their hats into the air. again the brown flask of kill-devil was passed appreciatively. after taking a long swallow, briggs turned to serina, gesturing toward atiba as he addressed her in pidgin portuguese, intended to add an international flavor to the evening. "_ele compreendo _?" "_sim. compreendo_." she nodded, reached for a ladle, and began to skim the first gathering of froth off the top of the boiling liquid. then she dumped the foam into a clay pot beside the furnace. "she's supposed to know how fast to feed the furnaces to keep the temperature right. and when to ladle the liquor into the next cauldron down the row." he stepped back from the furnace, fanning himself with his hat, and turned to the men. "according to the way the portugals do it in brazil, the clarified liquor from the last cauldron in the line here is moved to a cistern to cool for a time, then it's filled into wooden pots and moved to the curing house." "is that ready too?" a husky voice came from somewhere in the crowd. "aye, and i've already had enough pots made to get started. we let the molasses drain out and the sugar cure for three or four months, then we move the pots to the knocking house, where we turn them over and tap out a block of sugar. the top and bottom are brown sugar, what the portugals call _muscavado_, and the center is pure white." he reached again for the bottle and took a deep swallow. "twenty pence a pound in london, when our tobacco used to clear three farthings." "to be sure, the mill and the boiling house are the key. we'll have to start building these all over the island." thomas lancaster removed his black hat to wipe his brow, then pulled it firmly back on his head. "and start training the africans in their operation. no white man could stand this heat." "she should have this one trained in a day or so." briggs thumbed toward atiba, now standing opposite the door examining the planters. "then we can have him train more." "i'll venture you'd do well to watch that one particularly close." edward bayes lowered his voice, speaking into his beard. "there's a look about him." "aye, he's cantankerous, i'll grant you, but he's quick. he just needs to be tamed. i've already had to flog him once, ten lashes, the first night here, when he balked at eating loblolly mush." "ten, you say?" dalby bedford did not bother to disguise the astonishment in his voice. "would you not have done better to start with five?" "are you lecturing me now on how to best break in my africans?" briggs glared. "i paid for them, sir. they're my property, to manage as i best see fit." nicholas whittington murmured his assent, and others concurred. "as you say, gentlemen. but you've got three more dutch slavers due within a fortnight. i understand they're supposed to be shipping barbados a full three thousand this year alone." bedford looked about the room with a concerned expression. "that'll be just a start, if sugar production expands the way it seems it will. it might be well if we had the assembly pass acts for ordering and governing these slaves." "damn your assembly. we already have laws for property on barbados." again the other planters voiced their agreement. bedford stood listening, then lifted his hand for quiet. katherine found herself wishing he would be as blunt with them as winston had been. sometimes the governor's good manners got in the way, something that hardly seemed to trouble hugh winston. "i tell you this is no light matter. no man in this room knows how to manage all these africans. what englishman has ever been responsible for twenty, thirty, nay perhaps even a hundred slaves? they've to be clothed in some manner, fed, paired for offspring. and religion, sir? some of the quakers we've let settle in bridgetown are already starting to say your blacks should be baptized and taught christianity." "you can't be suggesting it? if we let them be made christians, where would it end?" briggs examined him in disbelief. "you'd have laws, sir, acts of your assembly. well there's the place to start. i hold the first law should be to fine and set in the stocks any of these so- called quakers caught trying to teach our blacks christianity. we'll not stand for it." katherine saw serina's features tense and her eyes harden, but she said nothing, merely continued to skim the foam from the boiling surface of the cauldron. "the spaniards and portugals teach the catholic faith to their negroes," bedford continued evenly. "and there you have the difference. they're not english. they're papists." briggs paused as he studied the flow of cane sap entering the cauldron from the holding tank, still dripping slowly from the lead spout. "by the looks of it, it could be flowing faster." he studied it a moment longer, then turned toward the door. "the mill. maybe that's the answer. what if we doubled the size of the cane bundles?" katherine watched the planters trail after briggs, out the doorway and into the night, still passing the flask of kill-devil. "what do you think, captain? should an african be made a christian?" "theology's not my specialty, miss bedford." he walked past her. "tell me first if you think a puritan's one." he was moving toward serina, who stood silently skimming the top of the first cauldron, now a vigorous boil. she glanced up once and examined him, then returned her eyes to the froth. katherine just managed to catch a few words as he began speaking to her quietly in fluent portuguese, as though to guard against any of the planters accidentally overhearing. "senhora, how is it you know the language of the africans?" she looked up for a moment without speaking, her eyes disdainful. "i'm a slave too, as you well know, senhor." then she turned and continued with the ladle. "but you're a portugal." "and never forget that. i am not one of these _preto_." she spat out the portuguese word for negro. atiba continued methodically shoving cane tops into the roaring mouth of the furnace. "but you were speaking to him just now in his own language. i recognized it." "he asked a question, and i answered him, that's all." "then you do know his language? how?" "i know many things." she fixed his eyes, continuing in portuguese. "perhaps it surprises you ingles that a _mulata _can speak at all. i also know how to read, something half the _branco _rubbish who were in this room tonight probably cannot do." katherine knew only a smattering of portuguese, but she caught the part about some of the _branco_, the whites, not being able to read. she smiled to think there was probably much truth in that. certainly almost none of the white indentures could. further, she suspected that many of the planters had never bothered to learn either. "i know you were educated in brazil." winston was pressing serina relentlessly. "i was trying to ask you how you know the language of this african?" she paused, her face a blend of haughtiness and regret. she started to speak, then stopped herself. "won't you tell me?" she turned back, as though speaking to the cauldron. "my mother was yoruba." "is that how you learned?" his voice was skeptical. "i was taught also by a _babalawo_, a yoruba priest, in brazil." "what's she saying?" katherine moved next to him, shielding her eyes from the heat. "_desculpe_, senhora, excuse me." winston quickly moved forward, continuing in portuguese as he motioned toward katherine. "this is . . ." "i know perfectly well who miss bedford is." serina interrupted him, still in portuguese. katherine stared at her, not catching the foreign words. "is she talking about me?" "she said her mother was a yoruba." winston moved between them. "and she said something about a priest." "is she some sort of priest? is that what she said?" "no." serina's english answer was quick and curt, then she said something else to winston, in portuguese. "she said she was not, though the women of her mother's family have practiced divination for many generations." "divination?" katherine studied him, puzzled. then she turned back to serina,"what do you mean by that?" serina was looking at her now, for the first time. "divination is the way the yoruba people ask their gods to tell the future." "how exactly do they go about doing such a thing?" "many ways." she turned back to the cauldron. winston stood in the silence for a moment, then turned to katherine. "i think one of the ways is with shells. in brazil i once saw a yoruba diviner shaking a tray with small sea-shells in it." serina glanced back, now speaking english. "i see you are an ingles who bothers to try and understand other peoples. one of the few i've ever met. _felicitacao_, senhor, my compliments. yes, that is one of the ways, and the most sacred to a yoruba. it's called the divination of the sixteen cowrie shells. a yoruba diviner foretells the will of the gods from how the shells lie in a tray after it has been shaken--by how many lie with the slotted side up. it's the way the gods talk to him." "who are these gods they speak to?" katherine found herself challenged by the mulatto's haughtiness. serina continued to stir the cauldron. "you'd not know them, senhora." "but i would be pleased to hear of them." katherine's voice was sharp, but then she caught herself and softened it. "are they something like the christian god?" serina paused, examining katherine for a moment, and then her eyes assumed a distant expression. "i do not know much about them. i know there is one god like the christian god. he is the high god, who never shows his powers on earth. but there are many other gods who do. the one the yoruba call on most is shango, the god of thunder and lightning, and of fire. his symbol is the double-headed axe. there also is ogun, who is the god of iron." she hesitated. "and the god of war." katherine studied her. "do you believe in all these african deities yourself?" "who can say what's really true, senhora?" her smooth skin glistened from the heat. she brushed the hair from her eyes in a graceful motion, as though she were in a drawing room, while her voice retreated again into formality. "the yoruba even believe that many different things can be true at once. something no european can ever understand." "there's something you may not understand, senhora," winston interjected, speaking now in english. "and i think you well should. the yoruba in this room also knows the language of the portugals. take care what you say." "it's not possible." she glanced at atiba contemptuously, continuing loudly in portuguese. "he's a saltwater _preto_. " before winston could respond, there was an eruption of shouts and curses from the direction of the mill. they all turned to watch as benjamin briggs shoved through the doorway, pointing at atiba. "get that one out here. i warrant he can make them understand." the sweltering room seemed frozen in time, except for briggs, now motioning at serina. "tell him to come out here." he revolved to winston. "i've a mind to flog all of them." "what's wrong?" "the damned mill. i doubled the size of the bundles, the very thing i should've done in the first place, but now the oxen can't turn it properly. i want to try hooking both oxen to one of the sweeps and a pair of africans on the other. i've harnessed them up, but i can't get them to move." he motioned again for atiba to accompany him. "this one's got more wit than all the rest together. maybe i can show him what i want." serina gestured toward atiba, who followed briggs out the door, into the fresh night air. katherine stared after him for a moment, then turned back. winston was speaking to serina again in portuguese, but too rapidly to follow. "will you tell me one thing more?" "as you wish, senhor." she did not look up from the cauldron. "what was going on last night? with the drums?" she hesitated slightly. "i don't know what you mean." winston was towering over her now. "i think you know very well what i mean, senhora. now tell me, damn it. what were they saying?" she seemed not to hear him. through the silence that filled the room, there suddenly came a burst of shouts from the direction of the mill. katherine felt fear sweep over her, and she found herself seizing winston's arm, pulling him toward the doorway. outside, the planters were milling about in confusion, vague shadows against the torchlight. then she realized atiba was trying to wrench off the harness from the necks of the two blacks tied to the sweeps of the mill, while yelling at briggs in his african language. she gripped winston's arm tighter as she watched william marlott, brandishing a heavy-bladed cane machete, move on atiba. then several other planters leapt out of the shadows, grabbed his powerful shoulders, and wrestled him to the ground. "you'd best flog him here and now." marlott looked up, sweat running down his face. "it'll be a proper lesson to all the rest." briggs nodded toward several of the white indentures and in moments a rope was lashed to atiba's wrists. then he was yanked against the mill, his face between the wet rollers. one of the indentures brought forward a braided leather horsewhip. katherine turned her face away, back toward the boiling house, not wanting to see. serina was standing in the doorway now, staring out blankly, a shimmering moistness in her eyes. chapter four for almost a month now, any night he could manage, atiba had slipped unseen from the compound and explored the southern coast of the island, the shore and the upland hills. now he was sure they could survive after the island became theirs. the _branco_, the white english, were savages, who destroyed all they touched, but there were still traces of what once had been. between the fields of sterile cane he had found and tasted the fruits of the sacred earth. there were groves of wild figs, their dark fruit luscious and astringent, and plump coconuts, their tender core as rich as any in yorubaland. along the shore were stands of sea-grape trees, with a sweet purple fruit biting to the tongue. he had also found palm-like trees clustered with the tender papaya, and farther inland there were groves of banana and plantain. he had discovered other trees with large oranges, plump with yellow nectar, as well as pomegranates and tamarind just like those he had known in ife, his home city. the soil itself gave forth moist melons, wild cucumbers, and the red apples of the prickly cactus. there also were calabash, the hard, round gourds the ingles had already learned could be hollowed out for cups and basins. the only thing wanting was that staple of the yoruba people, the yam. but they would not have to survive from the soil alone. in the thickets he had heard the grunts and squeals of the wild hogs, fat sows foraging nuts, leading their litters. along the shore he had seen flocks of feeding egrets in the dawn light, ready to be snared and roasted, and at his feet there had been hundreds of land crabs, night prowlers as big as two hands, ripe for boiling as they scurried back to their sand burrows along the shore. he could not understand why the _branco _slaves who worked alongside the yoruba allowed themselves to be fed on boiled corn mush. a natural bounty lay within arm's reach. the orisa, those forces in nature that work closest with man, were still present on the island. he could sense them, waiting in the wood of the trees. this ravished place had once been a great forest, like the one north of ife, and it could be again. if the hand of the ingles was taken from it, and the spirit of the orisa, its rightful protectors, freed once more. the first cooing of the wood dove sounded through the thatched hut, above the chorus of whistling frogs from the pond, signaling the approach of day. atiba sat motionless in the graying light, crosslegged, at the edge of the mud seat nearest the door, and studied the sixteen cowrie shells as they spun across the reed tray that lay before him. as he watched, eight of the small ovals came to rest mouth up, in a wide crescent, the remainder facing down. the tiny room was crowded with the men of the yoruba, their cotton loincloths already drenched with sweat from the early heat. now all eyes narrowed in apprehension, waiting for this _babalawo_, the priest of the yoruba, to speak and interpret the verses that revealed the message in the cowries. _bi a ko jiya ti o kun agbon _if we do not bear suffering that will fill a basket, _a ko le jore to kun inu aha _we will not receive kindness that will fill a cup. he paused and signaled the tall, bearded drummer waiting by the door. the man's name was obewole, and he had once been, many rains ago, the strongest drummer in the entire city of ife. he nodded and shifted the large drum--the yoruba _iya ilu_--that hung at his waist, suspended from a wide shoulder strap. abruptly the small wooden mallet he held began to dance across the taut goatskin. the verses atiba had just spoken were repeated exactly, the drum's tone changing in pitch and timbre as obewole squeezed the cords down its hourglass waist between his arm and his side. moments later there came the sound of more drums along the length of the southern coast, transmitting his verses inland. in less than a minute all the yoruba on barbados had heard their _babalawo's _exact words. then he said something more and shook the tray again. this time five cowries lay open, set as a star. again he spoke, his eyes far away. _a se'gi oko ma we oko _the tree that swims like a canoe, _a s'agada ja'ri erin _the sword that will cut iron. once more the drum sent the words over the morning quiet of the island. atiba waited a few moments longer, then slowly looked up and surveyed the expectant faces around him. the shells had spoken, true enough, but the message of the gods was perplexing. seemingly shango had counseled endurance, while ogun foretold war. he alone was priest, and he alone could interpret this contradictory reading. he knew in his heart what the gods wanted, what they surely must want. still, the realization brought painful memories. he knew too well what war would mean. he had seen it many times--the flash of mirrored steel in the sunlight, the blood of other men on your hands, the deaths of wise fathers and strong sons. the worst had been when he and his warriors had stood shoulder to shoulder defending the ancient royal compound at ife with their lives, when the fulani from the north had breached the high walls of the city and approached the very entrance of the ruling oba's palace, those huge sculptured doors guarded by the two sacred bronze leopards. that day he and his men had lost more strong warriors than there were women to mourn them, but by nightfall they had driven out the worshippers of other gods who would take their lands, pillage their compounds, carry away their seed-yams and their youngest wives. he also knew there could be betrayal. he had seen it during the last season of rains, when the drums had brought news of strangers in the southeastern quarter of the world that was yorubaland. he and his men had left their compounds and marched all day through the rain. that night, among the trees, they had been fallen upon by benin slavers, men of black skin who served the _branco _as a woman serves the payer of her bride-price. but the men of the yoruba would never be made to serve. their gods were too powerful, their ancestors too proud. the yoruba were destined to rule. just as they had governed yorubaland for a thousand years. theirs was an ancient and noble people, nothing like the half-civilized ingles on this island. in the great metropolis of ife, surrounded by miles of massive concentric walls, the yoruba had lived for generations in wide family compounds built of white clay, their courtyards open to light and air, walking streets paved with brick and stone, wearing embroidered robes woven of finest cotton, sculpting lost-wax bronzes whose artistry no ingles could even imagine. they did not swelter in patched-together log huts like the ingles planters here, or in thatched hovels like the ingles planters' servants. and they paid reverence to gods whose power was far greater than any _branco_ had ever seen. "the sky has no shadow. it reaches out in all directions to the edge of the world. in it are the sun, the moon, all that is." he paused, waiting for the drums, then continued. "i have gone out into the dark, the void that is night, and i have returned unharmed. i say the orisa are here, strong. we must make war on the branco to free them once more." he paused again. "no man's day of death can be postponed. it is already known to all the gods. there is nothing we need fear." after the drums had sent his words across the island, the hut fell quiet. then there came a voice from a small, wizened man sitting on atiba's left, a yoruba older than the rest, with sweat pouring down the wrinkles of his long dark face. "you are of royal blood, atiba. your father balogun was one of the sixteen royal _babalawo _of the oba of ife, one of the great awoni. it was he who taught you his skills." he cleared his throat, signifying his importance. "yet i say you now speak as one who has drunk too many horns of palm wine. we are only men. ogun will not come forth to carry our shields." "old tahajo, you who are the oldest and wisest here tonight, you know full well i am but a man." atiba paused, to demonstrate deference. he was chagrined that this elder who now honored his hut had to sit directly on the mud seat, that there was no buffalo skin to take down off the wall for him as there would have been in a compound at ife. "though the gods allow me to read their words in the cowries, i still eat the food a woman cooks." "i know you are a man, son of balogun, and the finest ever sired in ife. i knew you even before you grew of age, before you were old enough to tie a cloth between your legs. i was there the day your clan marks were cut in your cheek, those three proud lines that mark you the son of your father. be his son now, but speak to us today as a man, not as _babalawo_. let us hear your own voice." atiba nodded and set aside the tray. then he turned back to the drummer and reached for his gleaming machete. "since tahajo wishes it, we will wait for another time to consult more with ogun and shango. now i will hold a sword and speak simply, as a man." obewole nodded and picked up the mallet. "this island was once ruled by the orisa of the forest. but now there is only cane. its sweetness is bitter in the mouths of the gods, for it has stolen their home. i say we must destroy it. to do this we will call down the fire of lightning that shango guards in the sky." "how can we call down shango's fire?" the old man spoke again. none of the others in the cramped hut dared question atiba so boldly. "no man here is consecrated to shango. we are all warriors, men of ogun. his power is only over the earth, not the skies." "i believe there is one on this island whose lineage is shango. a woman. perhaps she no longer even knows it. but through her we will reach him." he turned and signaled obewole to ready the drum. "now i will speak. hear me. shango's spirit is here, on this island. he will help us take away the strength of the ingles." he paused for the drums, then continued, "i learned on the ship that before the next new moon there will be many more of us here. the other warriors who were betrayed by the benin traitors will be with us again. then we will take out the fire of shango that the ingles hold prisoner in the boiling house and release it in the night, among the fields of cane. we will burn the compounds of the ingles and take their muskets. then we will free the white slaves. they are too craven to free themselves, but they will not stand with their _branco _masters." he turned again to obewole and nodded. "send the words." winston shifted uneasily in his sleep, then bolted upright, rubbing the slight ache of his scar as he became aware of the distant spatter of drums. they were sporadic, but intense. patterns were being repeated again and again all down the coast. he slipped from the bed and moved quietly to the slatted window, to listen more closely. but now the drums had fallen silent. the only sounds left in the sweltering predawn air were the cooing of wood doves and the harsh "quark" of egrets down by the bridge, accompanied by joan's easy snores. he looked back and studied her face again, realizing that time was beginning to take its toll. he also knew he didn't care, though he figured she did, mightily. she'd never concede he could take jamaica. maybe she was right. but odds be damned. it was time to make a stand. jamaica. he thought about it again, his excitement swelling. enough cannon, and the spaniards could never retake it, never even get a warship into the harbor. it was perfect. a place of freedom that would strike a blow against forced labor throughout the new world. not a minute too soon either. the future was clear as day. the english settlers in the caribbees were about to install what had to be the most absolute system of human slavery ever seen. admittedly, finding sufficient men and women to work the fields had always been the biggest impediment to developing the virgin lands of the americas, especially for settlements that wanted to grow money crops for export. but now barbados had discovered africans. what next? if slavery proved it could work for sugar in the caribbees, then it probably would also be instituted for cotton and tobacco in virginia. agricultural slavery had started here, but soon it would doubtless be introduced wholesale into north america. christians, perpetrating the most unspeakable crime against humanity possible. who knew what it would someday lead to? he no longer asked himself why he detested slavery so much, but there was a reason, if he'd wanted to think about it. a man was a man. seeing briggs horsewhip his yoruba was too similar to watching ruyters flog his seamen. he had tasted the cat-o'-nine-tails himself more than once. in fact, whipping the yoruba was almost worse, since a seaman could always jump ship at the next port. but a slave, especially on a small island like barbados, had nowhere to go. no escape. not yet. but come the day jamaica was his . . . "are you all right, love?" joan had awakened and was watching him. "i was listening to the drums. and thinking." he did not turn. "those damned drums. every morning. why don't the planters put a halt to it?" she raised up and swabbed her face with the rough cotton sheet. "god curse this heat." "i'm tired of all of it. particularly slavery." "i fancy these africans are not your worry. you'd best be rethinking this daft scheme of yours with the indentures." "that's on schedule. the council agreed to the terms, drew up a list of men, and i picked the ones i wanted." "what're you thinkin' to do about ordnance?" skepticism permeated her groggy voice. "i've got a batch of new flintlocks on the _defiance_. generously supplied to me by anthony walrond's trading company." he laughed. "in grateful appreciation for helping out that frigate of theirs that went aground up by nevis island." "i heard about that. i also hear he'd like those muskets back." "he can see me in hell about that." he was strolling back toward the bed, nude in the early light. she admired the hard ripple of his chest, the long, muscular legs. "also, i've got the boys at work making some half-pikes. we've set up a forge down by the bay." "and what, pray, are you expectin' to use for pikestaffs?" "we're having to cut palm stalks." he caught her look. "i know. but what can i do? there's no cured wood to be had on this short a notice." "lo, what an army you'll have." she laughed wryly. "do you really think all those indentures will fight?" "for their freedom, yes." he settled onto the bed. "that's what i'm counting on." "well, you're counting wrong, love. most of them don't care a damn for anything, except maybe drinkin' in the shade. believe me, i know them." "i'll give them something to fight for. it won't be like here, where they're worked to death, then turned out to starve." "i could tell you a few stories about human nature that might serve to enlighten you." she stretched back and pulled up her shift to rub a mosquito bite on her thigh. "if it was me, i'd be trying to get hold of some of these africans. from the scars i've seen on a few of them, i'd say they've done their share of fighting. on my faith, they scare the wits half out of me." "they make me uneasy too." "how do you mean, darlin'?" "all these drums we've been hearing. i found out in brazil the yoruba there can talk somehow with a special kind of drum they've got, one that looks like a big hourglass. i figure those here can do it too, only nobody realizes it. let me tell you, joan, there was plenty of yoruba talk this morning. so far, the africans here are considerably outnumbered, but if they start a revolt, the indentures might decide to rise up too. then . . ." "some indentures here tried a little uprising once, a couple of years back. and about a dozen got hanged for their pains. i don't fancy they'll try it again soon." "don't be so sure. remember how the irish indentures went over to the spaniards that time they attacked the english settlement up on nevis island? they swam out to the spaniards' frigates, hailed them as fellow papists, and then told them exactly where all the fortifications were." "but how many of these africans are there here now? probably not all that many." "maybe not yet. with the dutch slavers that've come so far, i'd guess there're no more than a couple of thousand or so. but there're more slave ships coming every week. who knows what'll happen when there're three or four thousand, or more?" "it'll not happen soon. how can it?" she slipped her arms around his neck and drew him down next to her. "let's talk about something else. tell me how you plan to take jamaica. god's life, i still don't know why you'd want to try doing it at all." "you're just afraid i can't do it." he turned and kissed her, then pulled down the top of her shift and nipped at one of her exposed breasts. "tell me the truth." "maybe i will someday. if you get back alive." she took his face in her hands and lifted it away. "by the bye, i hear you had a fine time at the ball. dancin' with that jade." "who?" "you know who, you whoremaster. the high and mighty miss bedford." "i'd had a bit to drink. i don't precisely recall what all happened." "don't you now? well, some of the council recall that evening well enough, you can be sure. you weren't too drunk to scare the wits out of them with those spanish pistols. it's the talk of the island." she watched as he returned his mouth to her breast and began to tease the nipple with his tongue. "now listen to me. that little virgin's no good for you. for one thing, i hear she's supposed to be marryin' our leading royalist, sir anthony, though i swear i don't know what he sees in her. she's probably happier ridin' her horse than being with a man. i warrant she'd probably as soon be a man herself." "i don't want to hear any more about miss bedford." he slipped an arm beneath her and drew her up next to him. "i've got something else in mind." she trailed her hand down his chest to his groin. then she smiled. "my, but that's promisin'." "there's always apt to be room for improvement. if you set your mind to it." "god knows, i've spoiled you." she leaned over and kissed his thigh, then began to tease him with her tongue. without a word he shifted around and brushed the stubble of his cheeks against her loins. she was already moist, from sweat and desire. "god, that's why i always let you come back." she moved against him with a tiny shudder. "when by rights i should know better. sometimes i think i taught you too well what pleases me." "i know something else you like even better." he seized a plump down pillow and stationed it in the middle of the bed, then started to reach for her. she was assessing her handiwork admiringly. he was ready, the way she wanted him. "could be." she drew herself above him. "but you can't always be havin' everything your own way. you've got me feelin' too randy this mornin'. so now i'm going to show you why your frustrated virgin, miss bedford, fancies ridin' that horse of hers so much." serina was already awake before the drums started. listening intently to catch the soft cadence of the verses, she repeated them silently, knowing they meant the cowrie shells had been cast. it was madness. benjamin briggs sometimes called her to his room in the mornings, but she knew there would be no call today. he had ordered her from his bed just after midnight, drunk and cursing about a delay at the sugar mill. who had cast the cowries? was it the tall, strong one named atiba? could it be he was also a yoruba _babalawo_? she had heard the verses for the cowries once before, years ago in brazil. there were thousands, which her mother had recited for her all in one week, the entire canon. even now she still remembered some of them, just a few. her mother had never admitted to anybody else she knew the verses, since women weren't supposed to cast the cowries. the men of the yoruba always claimed the powers of the cowries were too great for any save a true _babalawo_, and no woman would ever be permitted to be that. women were only allowed to consult the gods by casting the four quarters of the kola nut, which only foretold daily matters. important affairs of state were reserved for the cowries, and for men. but her mother had secretly learned the verses; she'd never said how. she'd even promised to explain them one day, but that day never came. when she was sure the drums had finished, she rose slowly from the sweltering pallet that served as her bed and searched the floor in the half-dark till she felt the smooth cotton of her shift. she slipped it on, then began brushing her long gleaming hair, proud even now that it had always been straight, like a portuguese _donna's_. she slept alone in a small room next to the second-floor landing of the back stairway, the one by the kitchen that was used by servants. when she had finished with her hair and swirled it into a high bun, portuguese style, she slowly pushed open the slatted jalousies to study the clutter of the compound. as always, she found herself comparing this haphazard english house to the mansion she had known in brazil, on the large plantation outside pernambuco. now it seemed a memory from another world, that dazzling white room she had shared with her mother in the servants' compound. the day the senhor de engenho, the master of the plantation, announced that she would go to the black-robed jesuits' school, instead of being put to work in the fields like most of the other slave children, her mother had begun to cry. for years she had thought they were tears of joy. then the next day her mother had started work on their room. she had whitewashed the walls, smeared a fresh layer of hard clay on the floor, then planted a small frangipani tree by the window. during the night its tiny red blossoms would flood their room with a sweet, almost cloying fragrance, so they woke every morning to a day bathed in perfume. years later her mother had confessed the beautiful room and the perfume of the tree were intended to always make her want to return there from the foul rooms of the _branco _and their priests. she remembered those early years best. her mother would rise before dawn, then wake the old, gnarled ashanti slave who was the cook for the household, ordering the breakfast the senhor had specified the night before. then she would walk quietly down to the slave quarters to waken the gang driver, who would rouse the rest of the plantation with his bell. next she would return to their room and brush her beautiful _mulata _daughter's hair, to keep it always straight and shining, in preparation for the trip to the mission school the priests had built two miles down the road. serina still recalled the barefoot walk down that long, tree-lined roadway, and her mother's command, repeated every morning, to never let the sun touch her light skin. later she would wander slowly back through the searing midday heat, puzzling over the new language called spanish she was learning, and the strange teachings of the christians. the priests had taught her to read from the catechism, and to write out the stories they told of the catholic saints--stories her mother demanded she repeat to her each night. she would then declare them lies, and threaten her with a dose of the purgative physic-nut to expel their poisons. her mother would sometimes stroke her soft skin and explain that the christians' false god must have been copied from olorun, the yoruba high god and deity of the cosmos. it was well known he was the universal spirit who had created the world, the only god who had never lived on earth. perhaps the christians had somehow heard of him and hoped to steal him for their own. he was so powerful that the other gods were all his children--shango, ogun, all the yoruba deities of the earth and rivers and sky. the yoruba priests had never been known to mention a white god called jesu. but she had learned many things from jesu's priests. the most important was that she was a slave. owned by the senhor de engenho. she was his property, as much as his oxen and his fields of cane. that was the true lesson of the priests. a lesson she had never forgotten. these new saltwater yoruba were fools. their life and soul belonged to the _branco _now. and only the _branco _could give it back. you could never take it back yourself. there was nothing you could do to make your life your own again. she recalled a proverb of the ashanti people. "a slave does not choose his master." a slave chose nothing. she found herself thinking again of her mother. she was called dara, the yoruba name meaning "beautiful." and she was beautiful, beyond words, with soft eyes and delicate skin and high cheekbones. her mother dara had told her how she had been taken to the bed of her portuguese owner after only a week in brazil. he was the _senhor de engenho_, who had sired mulata bastards from the curing house to the kitchen. they were all still slaves, but her mother had thought her child would be different. she thought the light-skinned girl she bore the _branco _would be made free. and she had chosen a yoruba name for her. the _senhor de engenho _had decided to name her serina, one night while drunk. a slave chose nothing. dara's mulata daughter also was not given her freedom. instead that daughter was taken into the master's house: taught to play the lute and dance the galliards of joao de sousa carvalho when she was ten, given an orange petticoat and a blue silk mantle when she was twelve, and taken to his bed the day she was fourteen. her own father. he had used her as his property for eight years, then sold her to a stinking englishman. she later learned it was for the princely sum of a hundred pounds. a slave chose nothing. still, something in the _defiance_ of atiba stirred her. he was bold. and handsome, even though a _preto_. she had watched his strong body with growing desire those two days they were together in the boiling house. she had begun to find herself wanting to touch him, to tame his wildness inside her. for a moment he had made her regret she had vowed long ago never to give herself to a _preto_. she was half white, and if ever she had a child, that child would be whiter still. to be white was to be powerful and free. she also would make certain her child was christian. the christian god was probably false, but in this world the christians held everything. they owned the yoruba. the yoruba gods of her mother counted for nothing. not here, not in the new world. she smiled resignedly and thought once more of atiba. he would have to learn that too, for all his strength and his pride, just as she had. he could call on ogun to tell him the future, but that god would be somewhere out of hearing if he tried to war against the _branco_. she had seen it all before in brazil. there was no escape. a slave chose nothing. could he be made to understand that? or would that powerful body one day be hanged and quartered for leading a rebellion that could only fail? unsure why she should bother, yet unable to stop herself, she turned from the window and quietly headed down the creaking, makeshift rear stair. then she slipped past the kitchen door and onto the stone steps leading out into the back of the compound. it was still quiet, with only the occasional cackle of irish laughter from the kitchen, whose chimney now threaded a line of wood smoke into the morning air. the gate opened silently and easily--the indenture left to guard it was snoring, still clasping an empty flask--and she was out onto the pathway leading down the hill to the new thatched huts of the slaves. the path was quiet and gray-dark. green lizards scurried through the grass around her and frogs whistled among the palms, but there was no sign the indentures were awake yet. in the distance she could hear the low voice of atiba, lecturing courage to his brave yoruba warriors. the _preto _fools. she knew a woman would not be welcome, would be thought to "defile" their solemn council of war. let them have their superstitions. this was the new world. africa was finished for them. they weren't yoruba warriors now. here they were just more _preto _slaves, for all their posturing. once more she was glad she had been raised a portuguese, not a yoruba woman bound to honor and revere whatever vain man she had been given to as wife. as she neared the first hut, she stopped to look and shake her head sadly. what would the slaves in brazil think of these thatched hovels? she knew. they would laugh and ridicule the backwardness of these saltwater _preto_, who knew nothing of european ways. then she noticed a new drum, a small one only just finished, that had been left out for the sun to dry. she had heard once what these special drums were for. they were used in ceremonies, when the men and women danced and somehow were entered and possessed by the gods. but there were no yoruba women on briggs' plantation. he had not bothered to buy any yet, since men could cut cane faster. she wanted to smile when she realized the yoruba men here had to cook their own food, a humiliation probably even greater than slavery, but the smile died on her lips when she realized the drum was just a sad relic of a people torn apart. she examined the drum, recalling the ones she had seen in brazil. its wood was reddish and the skins were tied taut with new white cords. she smoothed her hand against her shift, then picked it up and nestled it under her arm, feeling the coolness of the wood. she remembered the goat skin could be tuned by squeezing the cords along the side. carefully she picked up the curved wooden mallet used to play it and, gripping the drum tightly against her body, tapped it once, twice, to test the fluctuation in pitch as she pressed the cords. the sharp, almost human sound brought another rush of memories of brazil, nights when she had slipped away to the slave quarters and sat at the feet of a powerful old_ babalawo_, an ancient yoruba priest who had come to be scorned by most of the newly baptized slaves. she was too young then to know that a _mulata _did not associate with black _preto_, that a _mulata _occupied a class apart. and above. she had listened breathlessly night after starry night as he spun out ancient yoruba legends of the goddess oshun--who he said was the favorite wife of shango. then he would show her how to repeat the story back to him using just the talking drum. she looked toward the gathering in the far hut, thinking again of the verses of the cowries. holding the drum tightly, she began to play the curved stick across the skin. the words came easily. _a se were lo nko _you are learning to be a fool. _o ko ko ogbon _you do not learn wisdom. she laughed to herself as she watched the startled faces of the yoruba men emerging from the thatched hut. after a moment, she saw atiba move out onto the pathway to stare in her direction. she set the drum onto the grass and stared back. he was approaching now, and the grace of his powerful stride again stirred something, a desire she had first felt those nights in the boiling house. what would it be like, she wondered again, to receive a part of his power for her own? though his face declared his outrage, she met his gaze with _defiance_- -a _mulata _need never be intimidated by a _preto_. she continued to watch calmly as he moved directly up the path to where she stood. without a word he seized the drum, held it skyward for a moment, then dashed it against a tree stump. several of the partly healed lash marks on his back opened from the violence of the swing. he watched in satisfaction as the wood shattered, leaving a clutter of splinters, cords, and skin. then he revolved toward her. "a _branco _woman does not touch a yoruba drum." branco. she had never heard herself referred to before as "white." but she had always wanted to. always. yet now . . . now he spat it out, almost as though it meant "unclean." "a _branco _woman may do as she pleases." she glared back at him. "that's one of the first things you will have to learn on this island." "i have nothing to learn from you. soon, perhaps, you may learn from me." "you've only begun to learn." she felt herself turning on him, bitterly. she could teach him more than he ever dreamed. but why? "you'll soon find out that you're a _preto_. perhaps you still don't know what that means. the _branco_ rule this island. they always will. and they own you." "you truly are a _branco_. you may speak our tongue, but there is nothing left of your yoruba blood. it has long since drained away." "as yours will soon. to water the cane on this island, if you try to rise up against the _branco_. " "i can refuse to submit." the hardness in his eyes aroused her. was it desperation? or pride? "and you'll die for it." "then i will die. if the _branco _kills me today, he cannot kill me again tomorrow. and i will die free." he fixed her with his dark gaze, and the three yoruba clan marks on his cheek seemed etched in ebony. then he turned back toward the hut and the waiting men. "someday soon, perhaps, i will show you what freedom means." chapter five katherine held on to the mizzenmast shrouds, shielding her eyes against the glitter of sun on the bay, and looked at hugh winston. he was wearing the identical shabby leather jerkin and canvas breeches she remembered from that first morning, along with the same pair of pistols shoved into his belt. he certainly made no effort to present a dignified appearance. also, the afternoon light made you notice even more the odd scar across one weathered cheek. what would he be like as a lover? probably nothing so genteel as anthony walrond. good god, she thought, what would anthony, and poor jeremy, say if they learned i came down here to the _defiance_, actually sought out this man they hate so much. they'd probably threaten to break off marriage negotiations, out of spite. but if something's not done, she told herself, none of that's going to matter anyway. if the rumor from london is true, then barbados is going to be turned upside down. hugh winston can help us, no matter what you choose to think of him. she reflected on winston's insulting manner and puzzled why she had actually half looked forward to seeing him again. he certainly had none of anthony's breeding, yet there was something magnetic about a man so rough and careless. still, god knows, finding him a little more interesting than most of the dreary planters on this island scarcely meant much. was he, she found herself wondering, at all attracted to her? possibly. if he thought on it at all, he'd see their common ground. she finally realized he despised the puritans and their slaves as much as she did. and, like her, he was alone. it was a bond between them, whether he knew it now or not. . . . then all at once she felt the fear again, that tightness under her bodice she had pushed away no more than half an hour past, when her mare had reached the rim of the hill, the last curve of the rutted dirt road leading down to the bay. she'd reined in coral, still not sure she had the courage to go and see winston. while her mare pawed and tugged at the traces, she took a deep breath and watched as a gust of wind sent the blood-red blossoms from a grove of cordia trees fleeing across the road. then she'd noticed the rush of scented air off the sea, the wide vista of carlisle bay spreading out below, the sky full of tiny colored birds flitting through the azure afternoon. yes, she'd told herself, it's worth fighting for, worth jeopardizing everything for. even worth going begging to hugh winston for. it's my home. "do you ever miss england, living out here in the caribbees?" she tried to hold her voice nonchalant, with a lilt intended to suggest that none of his answers mattered all that much. though the afternoon heat was sweltering, she had deliberately put on her most feminine riding dress- -a billowing skirt tucked up the side to reveal a ruffle of petticoat and a bodice with sleeves slashed to display the silk smock beneath. she'd even had the servants iron it specially. anthony always noticed it, and winston had too, though he was trying to pretend otherwise. "i remember england less and less." he sipped from his tankard--he had ordered a flask of sack brought up from the great cabin just after she came aboard--and seemed to be studying the sun's reflection in its amber contents. "the americas are my home now, for better or worse. england doesn't really exist for me anymore." she looked at him and decided jeremy had been right; the truth was he'd probably be hanged if he returned. he paused a moment, then continued, "and you, miss bedford, have you been back?" "not since we left, when i was ten. we went first to bermuda, where father served for two years as governor and chief officer for the sommers island company. then we came down here. i don't really even think of england much anymore. i feel i'm a part of the americas now too." she shaded her face against the sun with one hand and noticed a bead of sweat trickling down her back, along the laces of her bodice. "in truth, i'm beginning to wonder if i'll ever see england again." "i'd just as soon never see it again." he rose and strolled across the deck, toward the steering house. then he settled his tankard on the binnacle and began to loosen the line securing the whipstaff, a long lever used for controlling the rudder. "do you really want to stay aboard while i take her out?" "you've done it every day this week, just around sunset. i've watched you from the hill, and wondered why." she casually adjusted her bodice, to better emphasize the plump fullness of her breasts, then suddenly felt a surge of dismay with herself, that she would consider resorting to tawdry female tricks. but desperate times brought out desperate measures. "besides, you've got the only frigate in the bay now that's not dutch, and i thought i'd like to see the island from offshore. i sometimes forget how beautiful it is." "then you'd best take a good, long look, miss bedford," he replied matter-of-factly. "it's never going to be the same again, not after sugar takes over." "katherine. you can call me katherine." she tried to mask the tenseness--no, the humiliation--in her voice. "i'm sufficiently compromised just being down here; there's scarcely any point in ceremony." "then katherine it is, miss bedford." again scarcely a glimmer of notice as he busied himself coiling the line. but she saw john mewes raise his heavy eyebrows as he mounted the quarterdeck companionway, his wide belly rolling with each labored step. winston seemed to ignore the quartermaster as he continued, "since you've been watching, then i suppose you know what to expect. we're going to tack her out of the harbor, over to the edge of those reefs just off lookout point. then we'll come about and take her up the west side of the island, north all the way up to speightstown. it's apt to be at least an hour. don't say you weren't warned." perfect, she thought. just the time i'll need. "you seem to know these waters well." it was rhetorical, just to keep him talking. hugh winston had sailed up the coast every evening for a week, regardless of the wind or state of the sea. he obviously understood the shoreline of barbados better than anyone on the island. that was one of the reasons she was here. "you sail out every day." "part of my final preparations, miss bedford . . . katherine." he turned to the quartermaster. "john." "aye." mewes had been loitering by the steeringhouse, trying to stay in the shade as he eyed the opened flask of sack. winston had not offered him a tankard. "weigh anchor. i want to close-haul that new main course one more time, then try a starboard tack." "aye, as you will." he strode gruffly to the quarterdeck railing and bellowed orders forward to the bow. the quiet was broken by a slow rattle as several shirtless seamen began to haul in the cable with the winch. they chattered in a medley of languages--french, portuguese, english, dutch. she watched as the anchor broke through the waves and was hoisted onto the deck. next mewes yelled orders aloft. moments later the mainsail dropped and began to blossom in the breeze. the _defiance _heeled slowly into the wind, then began to edge past the line of dutch merchantmen anchored along the near shoreline. winston studied the sail for a few moments. "what do you think, john? she looks to be holding her luff well enough." "i never liked it, cap'n. i've made that plain from the first. so i'm thinkin' the same as always. you've taken a fore-and-aft rigged brigantine, one of the handiest under christian sail, and turned her into a square-rigger. we'll not have the handling we've got with the running rigging." mewes spat toward the railing and shoved past katherine, still astonished that winston had allowed her to come aboard, governor's daughter or no. it's ill luck, he told himself. a fair looker, that i'll grant you, but if it's doxies we'd be taking aboard now, i can think of plenty who'd be fitter company. he glanced at the white mare tethered by the shore, wishing she were back astride it and gone. half the time you see her, the wench is riding like a man, not sidesaddle like a woman was meant to. "if we're going to make jamaica harbor without raising the spaniards' militia, we'll have to keep short sail." winston calmly dismissed his objections. "that means standing rigging only. no tops'ls or royals." "aye, and she'll handle like a gaff-sailed lugger." "just for the approach. while we land the men. we'll keep her rigged like always for the voyage over." he maneuvered the whipstaff to start bringing the stern about, sending a groan through the hull. "she seems to work well enough so far. we need to know exactly how many points off the wind we can take her. i'd guess about five, maybe six, but we've got to find out now." he turned back to katherine and caught her eyes. they held something-- what was it? almost an invitation? but that's not why she's here, he told himself. this woman's got a purpose in mind, all right. except it's not you. whatever it is, though, the looks of her'd almost make you wonder if she's quite so set on marrying some stiff royalist as she thinks she is? don't be a fool. the last thing you need to be thinking about now is a woman. given the news, there's apt to be big trouble ahead here, and soon. you've got to be gone. "so perhaps you'd care to tell me . . . katherine, to what i owe the pleasure of this afternoon's visit. i'd venture you've probably seen the western coast of this island a few hundred times before, entirely without my aid." "i was wondering if you'd heard what's happened in london?" she held on to the shrouds, the spider-web of ropes that secured the mast, and braced herself against the roll of the ship as the _defiance_ eased broadside to the sun. along the curving shoreline a string of dutch merchantmen were riding at anchor, all three-masted fluyts, their fore and main masts steeped far apart to allow room for a capacious hatch. in the five weeks that had passed since the _zeelander _put in with the first cargo of africans, four more slavers had arrived. they were anchored across the bay now, their round sterns glistening against the water as the afternoon light caught the gilding on their high, narrow after-structure. riding in the midst of them was the _rotterdam_, just put in from london. the sight of that small dutch merchantman had brought back her fear. it also renewed her resolve. "you mean about king charles? i heard, probably before you did." he was watching her tanned face, and secretly admiring her courage. she seemed to be taking the situation calmly. "i was working down here yesterday when the _rotterdam _put in." "then i'd like your version. what exactly did you hear?" "probably what everybody else heard. they brought word england's new 'rump' parliament, that mob of bloodthirsty puritans installed by cromwell's army, has locked king charles in the tower, with full intentions to chop off his head. they also delivered the story that parliament has declared barbados a nest of rebels, since your assembly has never recognized the commonwealth. virginia and bermuda also made that select list of outcasts." he glanced toward the bow, then tested the steering lever. "so, miss katherine bedford, i'd say the americas are about to see those stormy times we talked about once. only it's a gale out of england, not here." he turned and yelled forward, "john, reef the foresail as we double the point. then prepare to take her hard about to starboard." she watched as he shoved the steering lever to port, flipping the rudder to maneuver around the reefs at the edge of the bay, then reached for his pewter tankard, its sides dark with grease. and she tried to stifle her renewed disgust with him, his obvious unconcern, as she watched him drink. maybe it really was all a game to him. maybe nothing could make him care a damn after all. in the silence that followed, the creaks of the weathered planking along the deck grew louder, more plaintive. "given some of that may be true, captain, what do you think will happen now?" "just call me hugh. i presume i can enjoy my fair share of barbados' democracy. while it lasts." he shrugged. "since you asked, i'll tell you. i think it means the end of everything we know about the americas. breathe the air of independence while you still can. maybe you didn't hear the other story going around the harbor here. the dutchmen are claiming that after parliament gets around to beheading the king, it plans to take over all the patents granted by the crown. it's supposedly considering a new law called a 'navigation act,' which is going to decree that only english bottoms can trade with the american settlements. no hollanders. that means the end of free trade. there's even talk in london that a fleet of warships may head this way to enforce it." "i've heard that too. it sounds like nothing more than a thames rumor." "did you know that right now all the dutchmen here are lading as fast as they can, hoping they can put to sea before they're blockaded, or sunk, by a score of armed english men-of-war?" "nobody in the assembly thinks cromwell would go that far." "well, the dutchmen do. whatever else you might say, a hollander's about the last man i'd call a fool. i can tell you carlisle bay is a convocation of nervous netherlanders right now." he squinted against the sun. "and i'll pass along something else, katherine. they're not the only ones. i'd just as soon be at sea myself, with my men." she examined him, her eyes ironic. "so i take it while you're not afraid to stand up to the council, men with pistols practically at your head, you're still worried about some navy halfway around the world." "the difference is that the council owed me money." he smiled wanly. "with england, it's more like the other way around." "that's not the real reason, is it?" "all right, how's this? for all we know, their navy may not be halfway around the world anymore." he glanced at the sun, then checked the sail again. "it's no state secret i'm not mother england's favorite son. the less i see of the english navy, the happier i'll be." "what'll you do if a fleet arrives while you're still here?" "i'll worry about it then." he turned back. "a better question might be what does barbados plan to do if a fleet arrives to blockade you and force you into line." his voice grew sober. "i'd say this island faces a difficult choice. if parliament goes ahead and does away with the king, the way some of its hotheads reportedly want to, then there'll no longer be any legal protection for you at all. word of this new sugar project has already gotten back to london, you can be sure. i'd suspect the puritans who've taken over parliament want the american colonies because they'd like a piece of barbados' sudden new fortune for themselves. new taxes for commons and new trade for english shippers. now that you're about to be rich here, your years of being ignored are over." he lifted the tankard and took another drink of sack. "so what are you going to do? submit? or declare war on parliament and fight the english navy?" "if everybody here pulls together, we can resist them." "with what?" he turned and pointed toward the small stone fortress atop lookout point. the hill stood rocky and remote above the blue caribbean. "not with that breastwork, you won't. i doubt a single gun up there's ever been set and fired. what's more, i'd be surprised if there're more than a dozen trained gunners on the whole of the island, since the royalist refugees here were mostly officers back home. the way things stand now, you don't have a chance." "then we'll have to learn to fight, won't we?" she tried to catch his eye. "i suppose you know something about gunnery." "gunners are most effective when they've got some ordnance to use." he glanced back, then thumbed toward the point. "what's in place up there?" "i think there're about a dozen cannon. and there're maybe that many more at the jamestown breastwork. so the leeward coast is protected. there's also a breastwork at oistins bay, on the south." she paused, studying his profile against the sun. an image rose up unbidden of him commanding a battery of guns, her at his side. it was preposterous yet exhilarating. "those are the places an invasion would come, aren't they?" "they're the only sections of shoreline where the surf's light enough for a troop ship to put in." "then we've got a line of defense. don't you think it's enough?" "no." he spoke quietly. "you don't have the heavy ordnance to stop a landing. all you can hope to do without more guns is just try and slow it down a bit." "but assuming that's true, where would we get more cannon? especially now?" this was the moment she'd been dreading. of course their ordnance was inadequate. she already knew everything he'd been saying. there was only one place to get more guns. they both realized where. "well, you've got a problem, katherine." he smiled lightly, just to let her know he was on to her scheme, then looked away, toward the shoreline. on their right now the island was a mantle of deep, seemingly eternal green reaching down almost to the water's edge, and beyond that, up the rise of the first hill, were dull-colored scatterings of plantation houses. the _defiance _was making way smoothly now, northward, holding just a few hundred yards off the white, sandy shore. "you know, i'm always struck by what a puny little place barbados is." he pointed toward a small cluster of clapboard houses half hidden among the palms along the shore. "if you put to sea, like we are now, you can practically see the whole island, north to south." she glanced at the palm-lined coast, then back. "what are you trying to say?" "that gathering of shacks we're passing over there is the grand city of jamestown." he seemed to ignore the question as he thumbed to starboard. "which i seem to recall is the location of that famous tree everybody here likes to brag about so much." jamestown was where stood the massive oak into whose bark had been carved the inscription "james, king of e.," and the date . that was the year an english captain named john powell accidentally put in at an empty, forested caribbean island and decided to claim it for his king. "that tree proclaims this island belongs to the king of england. well, no more. the king's finished. so tell me, who does it belong to now?" "i'll tell you who it doesn't belong to. cromwell and the english parliament." she watched the passing shoreline, and tried to imagine what it would be like if her dream came true. if barbados could make the stand that would change the americas permanently. when she'd awakened this morning, birds singing and the island sun streaming through the jalousies, she'd suddenly been struck with a grand thought, a revolutionary idea. she had ignored the servants' pleas that she wait for breakfast and ordered coral saddled immediately. then she'd headed inland, through the moss-floored forests whose towering ironwood and oak trees still defied the settlers' axes. amidst the vines and orchids she'd convinced herself the idea was right. what if all the english in the new world united? declared their independence? during her lifetime there had been a vast migration to the americas, two out of every hundred in england. she had never seen the settlement in "new england," the one at plymouth on the massachusetts bay, but she knew it was an outpost of puritans who claimed the anglican church smacked too much of "popery." the new englanders had always hated king charles for his supposed catholic sympathies, so there was no chance they'd do anything except applaud the fanatics in england who had toppled the monarchy. but the settlements around the chesapeake were different. virginia was founded because of profit, not prayer books. its planters had formed their own assembly in , the first in the americas, and they were a spirited breed who would not give in easily to domination by england's new dictatorship. there was also a settlement on bermuda, several thousand planters who had their own assembly too; and word had just come they had voted to banish all puritans from the island, in retaliation against cromwell. hugh winston, who thought he knew everything, didn't know that bermuda had already sent a secret envoy to dalby bedford proposing barbados join with them and form an alliance with virginia and the other islands of the caribbees to resist the english parliament. bermuda wanted the american colonies to stand firm for the restoration of the monarchy. the barbados assembly appeared to be leaning in that direction too, though they still hoped they could somehow avoid a confrontation. but that was wrong, shed realized this morning. so very wrong. don't they see what we really should do? this is our chance. we should simply declare the richest settlements in the americas--virginia, barbados, st. christopher, nevis, bermuda--independent of england. a new nation. it was an idea she'd not yet dared suggest to dalby bedford, who would likely consider it close to sedition. and she certainly couldn't tell a royalist like anthony. he'd only fight for the monarchy. but why, she asked herself, do we need some faraway king here in the americas? we could, we should, be our own masters. first, however, we've got to show cromwell and his illegal parliament that they can't intimidate the american settlements. if barbados can stand up to them, then maybe the idea of independence will have a chance. "i came today to ask if you'd help us stand and fight. if we have to." she listened to her own voice and knew it was strong and firm. he stood silent for a moment, staring at her. then he spoke, almost a whisper above the wind. "who exactly is it wants me to help fight england? the assembly?" "no. i do." "that's what i thought." he shook his head in disbelief, or was it dismay, and turned to check the whipstaff. when he glanced back, his eyes were skeptical. "i'll wager nobody knows you came down here. am i correct?" "i didn't exactly make an announcement about it." "and that low-cut bodice and pretty smile? is that just part of your negotiations?" "i thought it mightn't hurt." she looked him squarely in the eye. "god almighty. what you'd do for this place! i pity cromwell and his roundheads." he sobered. "i don't mind telling you i'm glad at least one person here realizes this island can't defend itself as things stand now. you'd damned sure better start trying to do something." he examined her, puzzled. "but why come to me?" she knew the answer. hugh winston was the only person she knew who hated england enough to declare independence. he already had. "you seem to know a lot about guns and gunnery." she moved closer and noticed absently that he smelled strongly of seawater, leather, and sweat. "did i hear you say you had an idea where we could get more cannon, to help strengthen our breastworks?" "so we're back to business. i might have expected." he rubbed petulantly at his scar. "no, i didn't say, though we both know where you might. from those dutchmen in the harbor. every merchantman in carlisle bay has guns. you could offer to buy them. or just take them. but whatever you do, don't dally too long. one sighting of english sail and they'll put to sea like those flying fish around the island." "how about the cannon on the _defiance_? how many do you have?" "i have a few." he laughed, then reflected with pride on his first- class gun deck. twenty-two demi-culverin, nine-pounders and all brass so they wouldn't overheat. he'd trained his gunners personally, every man, and he'd shot his way out of more than one harbor over the past five years. his ordnance could be run out in a matter of minutes, primed and ready. "naturally you're welcome to them. all you'll have to do is kill me first." "i hope it doesn't come to that." "so do i." he studied the position of the waning sun for a moment, then yelled forward for the men to hoist the staysail. next he gestured toward mewes. "john, take the whipstaff a while and tell me what you think of the feel of her. i'd guess the best we can do is six points off the wind, the way i said." "aye." mewes hadn't understood what all the talk had been about, but he hoped the captain was getting the best of the doxy. "i can tell you right now this new rigging of yours makes a handy little frigate work like a damn'd five-hundred-ton galleon." "just try taking her about." he glanced at the shoreline. they were coming in sight of speightstown, the settlement at the north tip of the island. "let's see if we can tack around back south and make it into the bay." "but would you at least help us if we were blockaded?" she realized she was praying he would say yes. "katherine, what's this island ever done for me? besides, right now i've got all i can manage just trying to get the hell out of here. i can't afford to get caught up in your little quarrel with the commonwealth." he looked at her. "every time i've done an errand for barbados, it's always come back to plague me." "so you don't care what happens here." she felt her disappointment surge. it had all been for nothing, and damned to him. "i suppose i had a somewhat higher opinion of you, captain winston. i see i was wrong." "i've got my own plan for the caribbean. and that means a lot more to me than who rules barbados and its slaves." "then i'm sorry i bothered asking at all." "i've got a suggestion for you though." winston's voice suddenly flooded with anger. "why don't you ask your gentleman fiance, anthony walrond, to help? from what i hear, he was the royalist hero of the civil war." "he doesn't have a gun deck full of cannon." she wanted to spit in winston's smug face. "but he's got you, katherine, doesn't he?" he felt an unwanted pang at the realization. he was beginning to like this woman more than he wanted to. she had brass. "though as long as you're here anyway, why don't we at least toast the sunset? and the free americas that're about to vanish into history." he abruptly kissed heron the cheek, watched as she flushed in anger, then turned and yelled to a seaman just entering the companionway aft, "fetch up another flask of sack." benjamin briggs stood in the open doorway of the curing-house, listening to the "sweee" call of the long-tailed flycatchers as they flitted through the groves of macaw palms. the long silence of dusk was settling over the sugarworks as the indentures and the slaves trudged wearily toward their thatched huts for the evening dish of loblolly mush. down the hill, toward the shore, vagrant bats had begun to dart through the shadows. in the west the setting sun had become a fiery disk at the edge of the sea's far horizon. he watched with interest as a single sail cut across the sun's lower rim. it was hugh winston's _defiance_, rigged in a curious new mode. he studied it a moment, puzzling, then turned back to examine the darkening interior of the curing house. long racks, holding wooden cones of curing sugar, extended the length of one wall. he thought about the cones for a time, watching the slow drip of molasses into the tray beneath and wondering if it mightn't pay to start making them from clay, which would be cheaper and easier to shape. though the africans seemed to understand working clay--they'd been using it for their huts--he knew that only whites could be allowed to make the cones. the skilled trades on barbados must always be forbidden to blacks, whose tasks had to be forever kept repetitive, mind-numbing. the africans could never be allowed to perfect a craft. it could well lead to economic leverage and, potentially, resistance to slavery and the end of cheap labor. he glanced back toward the darkening horizon, but now winston's frigate had passed from view, behind the trees. winston was no better than a thieving rogue, bred for gallows-bait, but you had to admire him a trifle nonetheless. he was one of the few men around who truly understood the need for risk here in the americas. the man who never chanced what he had gained in order to realize more would never prosper. in the americas a natural aristocracy was rising up, one not of birth but of boldness. boldness would be called for tonight, but he was ready. he had done what had to be done all his life. the first time was when he was thirty-one, a tobacco importer in bristol with an auburn-haired wife named mary and two blue-eyed daughters, a man pleased with himself and with life. then one chance- filled afternoon he had discovered, in a quick succession of surprise and confession, that mary had a lover. the matter of another man would not have vexed him unduly, but the fact that her gallant was his own business partner did. the next day he sold his share of the firm, settled with his creditors, and hired a coach for london. he had never seen bristol again. or mary and his daughters. in london there was talk that a syndicate of investors led by sir william courteen was recruiting a band of pioneers to try and establish a new settlement on an empty island in the caribbees, for which they had just received a proprietary patent from the king. though benjamin briggs had never heard of barbados, he joined the expedition. he had no family connections, no position, and only a few hundred pounds. but he had the boldness to go where no englishman had ever ventured. eighty of them arrived in the spring of , on the william and john, with scarcely any tools, only to discover that the entire island was a rain forest, thick and overgrown. nor had anyone expected the harsh sunshine, day in and day out. they all would have starved from inexperience had not the dutch helped them procure a band of arawak indians from surinam, who brought along seeds to grow plantains and corn, and cassava root for bread. the indians also taught the cultivation of cotton and tobacco, cash crops. perhaps just as importantly, they showed the new adventurers from london how to make a suspended bed they called a hammock, in order to sleep up above the island's biting ants, and how to use smoky fires to drive off the swarms of mosquitoes that appeared each night. yet, help notwithstanding, many of those first english settlers died from exposure and disease by the end of the year. benjamin briggs was one of the survivors. later, he had vowed never to forget those years, and never to taste defeat. the sun was almost gone now, throwing its last, long shadows through the open thatchwork of the curing-house walls, laying a pattern against the hard earthen floor. he looked down at his calloused hands, the speckle of light and shade against the weathered skin, and thought of all the labors he had set them to. the first three years those hands had wielded an axe, clearing land, and then they had shaped themselves to the handle of a hoe, as he and his five new indentures set about planting indigo. and those hands had stayed penniless when his indigo crops were washed away two years running by the autumn storms the carib indians called _huracan_. next he had set them to cotton. in five years he had recouped the losses from the indigo and acquired more land, but he was still at the edge of starvation, in a cabin of split logs almost a decade after coming out to the caribbees. he looked again at his hands, thinking how they had borrowed heavily from lenders in london, the money just enough to finance a switch from cotton to tobacco. it fared a trifle better, but still scarcely recovered its costs. though he had managed to accumulate more and more acres of island land over the years, from neighbors less prudent, he now had only a moderate fortune to show for all his labor. he'd actually considered giving up on the americas and returning to london, to resume the import trade. but always he remembered his vow, so instead he borrowed again, this time from the dutchmen, and risked it all one last time. on sugar. he scraped a layer from the top of one of the molds and rubbed the tan granules between his fingers, telling himself that now, at last, his hands had something to show for the two long decades of callouses, blisters, emptiness. he tasted the rich sweetness on a horned thumb and its savor was that of the americas. the new world where every man started as an equal. now a new spirit had swept england. the king was dethroned, the hereditary house of lords abolished. the people had risen up . . . and, though you'd never have expected it, new risk had risen up with them. the american settlements were suddenly flooded with the men england had repudiated. banished aristocrats like the walronds, who'd bought their way into barbados and who would doubtless like nothing better than to reforge the chains of class privilege in the new world. most ironic of all, these men had at their disposal the new democratic institutions of the americas. they would clamor in the assembly of barbados for the island to reject the governance of the english parliament, hoping thereby to hasten its downfall and lead to the restoration of the monarchy. worse, the assembly, that reed in the winds of rhetoric, would doubtless acquiesce. regardless of what you thought of cromwell, to resist parliament now would be to swim against the tide. and to invite war. the needful business of consolidating the small tracts on barbados and setting the island wholesale to sugar would be disrupted and forestalled, perhaps forever. why had it come down to this, he asked himself again. now, of all times. when the fruits of long labor seemed almost in hand. when you could finally taste the comforts of life--a proper house, rich food, a woman to ease the nights. he had never considered taking another wife. once had been enough. but he had always arranged to have a comely irish girl about the house, to save the trouble and expense of visiting bridgetown for an evening. a prudent man bought an indentured wench with the same careful eye hed acquire a breeding mare. a lusty-looking one might cost a few shillings more, but it was money well invested, your one compensation for all the misery. the first was years ago, when he bought a red-headed one straight off a ship from london, not guessing till he got her home that he'd been swindled; she had a sure case of the pox, the french disease. her previous career, it then came out, included bridewell prison and the taverns of turnbull street. he sent her straight to the fields and three months later carefully bought another, this one irish and seventeen. she had served out her time, five years, and then gone to work at a tavern in bridgetown. he had never seen her since, and didn't care to, but after that he always kept one about, sending her on to the fields and buying a replacement when he wearied of her. that was before the voyage down to pernambuco. brazil had been an education, in more ways than one. you had to grant the papists knew a thing or so about the good life. they had bred up a sensuous latin creation: the _mulata_. he tried one at a tavern, and immediately decided the time had come to acquire the best. he had worked hard, he told himself; he had earned it. there was no such thing as a _mulata _indenture in pernambuco, so he'd paid the extra cost for a slave. and he was still cursing himself for his poor judgment. haughtiness in a servant was nothing new. in the past he'd learned you could easily thrash it out of them, even the irish ones. this _mulata_, though, somehow had the idea she was gifted by god to a special station, complete with high-born latin airs. the plan to be finally rid of her was already in motion. she had come from pernambuco with the first cane, and she would be sold in bridgetown with the first sugar. he already had a prospective buyer, with an opening offer of eighty pounds. he'd even hinted to hugh winston that she could be taken as part payment for the sight drafts, but winston had refused the bait. it was men and provisions, he insisted, nothing else. winston. may god damn his eyes. . . . footsteps sounded along the gravel pathway and he turned to examine the line of planters approaching through the dusk, all wearing dark hats and colorless doublets. as he watched them puffing up the rise of the hill, he found himself calculating how much of the arable land on the island was now controlled by himself and these eleven other members of the council. tom lancaster owned twelve hundred acres of the rolling acres in st. george's parish; nicholas whittington had over a thousand of the best land in christ's church parish; edward bayes, who had ridden down from his new plantation house on the northern tip of the island, owned over nine hundred acres; john lynes had amassed a third of the arable coastal land on the eastern, windward side of the island. the holdings of the others were smaller, but together they easily owned the major share of the good cane land on barbados. what they needed now was the rest. "your servant, sir." the planters nodded in chorus as they filed into the darkened curing house. every man had ridden alone, and briggs had ordered his own servants to keep clear of the curing house for the evening. "god in heaven, this much already." bayes emitted a low whistle and rubbed his jowls as he surveyed the long rows of sugar molds. "you've got a fortune in this very room, sir. if this all turns out to be sugar, and not just pots of molasses like before." "it'll be white sugar or i'll answer for it, and it'll be fine as any portugal could make." briggs walked to the corner of the room, returning with two flasks of kill-devil and a tray of tankards. "the question now, gentlemen, is whether we'll ever see it sold." "i don't follow you, sir." whittington reached for a brown flask and began pouring himself a tankard. "as soon as we've all got a batch cured, we'll market it to the dutchmen. or we'll ship it to london ourselves." "i suppose you've heard the rumor working now amongst the dutchmen? that there might be an embargo?" "aye, but it's no more than a rumor. there'll be no embargo, i promise you. it'd be too costly." "it's not just a rumor. there was a letter from my london broker in the mail packet that came yesterday on the _rotterdam_. he saw fit to include this." briggs produced a thin roll of paper. "it's a copy he had made of the act prepared in the council of state, ready to be sent straight to commons for a vote." he passed the paper to whittington, who un-scrolled it and squinted through the half-light. briggs paused a moment, then continued, "the act would embargo all shipping into and out of barbados till our assembly has moved to recognize the commonwealth. cromwell was so sure it'd be passed he was already pulling together a fleet of warships to send out and enforce it. word has't the fleet will be headed by the _rainbowe_, which was the king's flagship before cromwell took it. fifty guns." a disbelieving silence enveloped the darkened room. "and you say this act was set to pass in parliament?" whittington looked up and recovered his voice. "it'd already been reported from the council of state. and the letter was four weeks old. more'n likely it's already law. the _rainbowe _could well be sailing at the head of a fleet right now as we talk." "if cromwell does that, we're as good as on our knees." tynes rubbed his neck and took a sip from his tankard. "what do you propose we can do?" "as i see it, there're but two choices." briggs motioned for the men to sit on a row of empty kegs he had provided. "the first is to lie back and do nothing, in which case the royalists will probably see to it that the assembly here votes to defy commons and declare for charles ii." "which means we'll be at war with england, god help us." lancaster removed his hat to wipe his dusty brow. "aye. a war, incidentally, which would force cromwell to send the army to subdue the island, if he hasn't already. he'd probably post troops to try and invade us, like some people are saying. which means the assembly would doubtless call up every able-bodied man on the island to fight. all the militia, and the indentures. letting the cane rot in the fields, if it's not burned to cinders by then." "good jesus." whittington's face seemed increasingly haggard in the waning light. "that could well set us back years." "aye, and who knows what would happen with the indentures and the slaves? who'll be able to watch over them? if we have to put the island on a war footing, it could endanger the lives of every free man here. god knows we're outnumbered by all the irish papists and the africans." "aye, the more indentures and slaves you've got, the more precarious your situation." lancaster's glazed eyes passed down the row of sugar molds as he thought about the feeble security of his own clapboard house. he also remembered ruefully that he owned only three usable muskets. "well, gentlemen, our other choice is to face up to the situation and come to terms with parliament. it's a bitter draught, i'll grant you, but it'll save us from anarchy, and maybe an uprising." "the assembly'll never declare for the commonwealth. the royalist sympathizers hold a majority." whittington's face darkened. "which means there's nothing to be done save ready for war." "there's still a hope. we can do something about the assembly." briggs turned to tynes, a small, tanned planter with hard eyes. "how many men do you have in your regiment?" "there're thirty officers, and maybe two hundred men." "how long to raise them?" "raise them, sir?" he looked at briggs, uncomprehending. "to what purpose? they're militia, to defend us against attack by the spaniards." "it's not the spaniards we've to worry about now. i think we can agree there's a clear and present danger nearer to hand." briggs looked around him. "i say the standing assembly of barbados no longer represents the best interests of this island. for any number of reasons." "is there a limit on their term?" lancaster looked at him questioningly. "i don't remember the law." "we're not adjudicating law now, gentlemen. we're discussing the future of the island. we're facing war. but beyond that, it's time we talked about running barbados the way it should be, along economic principles. there'll be prosperity, you can count on it, but only if we've got a free hand to make some changes." he took a drink, then set down his tankard. "what do you mean?" lancaster looked at him. "well sir, the main problem now is that we've got an assembly here that's sympathetic to the small freeholders. not surprisingly, since thanks to dalby bedford every man here with five acres can vote. our good governor saw to that when he drew up the voting parishes. five acres. they're not the kind who should be in charge of governing this settlement now. i know it and so does every man in this room." "all the same, they were elected." "that was before sugar. think about it. these small freeholders on the assembly don't understand this island wasn't settled just so we'd have a batch of five-acre gardens. god's blood, i cleared a thousand acres myself. i figured that someday i'd know why i was doing it. well, now i do." "what are you driving at?" bayes squinted past the rows of sugar cones. "well, examine the situation. this island could be the finest sugar plantation in the world. the dutchmen already claim it's better than brazil. but the land here's got to be assembled and put to efficient use. if we can consolidate the holdings of these small freeholders, we can make this island the richest spot on earth. the assembly doesn't understand that. they'd go to war rather than try and make some prosperity here." "what are you proposing we do about it?" lancaster interjected warily. "what if we took action, in the interests of the island?" briggs lowered his voice. "we can't let the assembly vote against the commonwealth and call down the navy on our heads. they've got to be stopped." "but how do we manage it?" tynes' voice was uneasy. "we take preventive action." he looked around the room. "gentlemen, i say it'd be to the benefit of all the free englishmen on barbados if we took the governor under our protection for the time being, which would serve to close down the assembly while we try and talk sense with parliament." "we'd be taking the law into our own hands." tynes shifted uncomfortably. "it's a question of whose law you mean. according to the thinking of the english parliament, this assembly has no legal standing anyway, since they've yet to recognize the rule of commons. we'd just be implementing what's already been decided." "i grant you this island would be wise not to antagonize cromwell and parliament just now." whittington searched the faces around him. "and if the assembly won't take a prudent course, then . . ." "what we're talking about here amounts to overturning the sitting governor, and closing down the assembly." lancaster's voice came through the gloom. "we've not the actual authority, even if parliament has . . ." "we've got something more, sir." briggs met his troubled gaze. "an obligation. to protect the future of the island." what we need now, he told himself, is responsible leadership. if the council can deliver up the island, the quid pro quo from cromwell will have to be acting authority to govern barbados. parliament has no brief for the assembly here, which fits nicely with the need to be done with it anyway. the irony of it! only if barbados surrenders do we have a chance to realize some prosperity. if we stand and fight, we're sure to lose eventually, and then none of us will have any say in what comes after. and in the long run it'll be best for every man here, rich and poor. when there's wealth--as there's sure to be if we can start evicting these freeholders and convert the island over to efficient sugar plantations--everybody benefits. the wealth will trickle down, like the molasses out of these sugar cones, even to the undeserving. it's the way things have to be in the americas if we're ever to make a go of it. but one step at a time. first we square the matter of bedford and the assembly. "but have we got the men?" lancaster settled his tankard on a keg and looked up hesitantly. "with the militia we already have under our command, i'd say we've got sympathetic officers, since they're all men with sizable sugar acreage. on the other hand, it'd probably not be wise to try calling up any of the small freeholders and freemen. so to get the numbers we'll be wanting, i'd say we'll just have to use our indentures as the need arises." "you've named a difficulty there." whittington took a deep breath. "remember the transfer over to winston takes place day after tomorrow. that's going to leave every man here short. after that i'll have no more than half a dozen christians on my plantation. all the rest are africans." "aye, he'll have the pick of my indentures as well," lancaster added, his voice troubled. "he'll just have to wait." briggs emptied his tankard and reached for the flask. "we'll postpone the transfer till this thing's settled. and let winston try to do about it what he will." chapter six a light breeze stirred the bedroom's jalousie shutters, sending strands of the midnight moon dancing across the curves of her naked, almond skin. as always when she slept she was back in pernambuco, in the whitewashed room of long ago, perfumed with frangipani, with moonlight and soft shadows that pirouetted against the clay walls. . . . slowly, silently, the moon at the window darkens, as a shadow blossoms through the airless space, and in her dream the form becomes the ancient _babalawo _of pernambuco, hovering above her. then something passes across her face, a reverent caress, and there is softness and scent in its touch, like a linen kerchief that hints of wild berries. the taste of its honeyed sweetness enters the dream, and she finds herself drifting deeper into sleep as his arms encircle her, drawing her up against him with soft yoruba words. her body seems to float, the dream deepening, its world of light and shadow absorbing her, beckoning, the softness of the bed gliding away. now she feels the touch of her soft cotton shift against her breasts and senses the hands that lower it about her. soon she is buoyed upward, toward the waiting moon, past the jalousies at the window, noiselessly across the rooftop. . . . she awoke as the man carrying her in his arms dropped abruptly to the yard of the compound. she looked to see the face, and for an instant she thought it truly was the old priest in brazil ... the same three clan marks, the same burning eyes. then she realized the face was younger, that of another man, one she knew from more recent dreams. she struggled to escape, but the drugged cloth came again, its pungent, cloying sweetness sending her thoughts drifting back toward the void of the dream. . . . now the wall of the compound floats past, vaulted by the figure who holds her draped in his arms. his yoruba words are telling her she has the beauty of oshun, beloved wife of shango. that tonight they will live among the orisa, the powerful gods that dwell in the forest and the sky. for a moment the cool night air purges away the sweetness of the drug, the potion this _babalawo _had used to numb her senses, and she is aware of the hard flex of his muscle against her body. without thinking she clings to him, her fear and confusion mingled with the ancient comfort of his warmth, till her mind merges once more with the dark. . . . atiba pointed down toward the wide sea that lay before them, a sparkling expanse spreading out from the shoreline at the bottom of the hill, faintly tinged with moonlight. "i brought you here tonight to make you understand something. in ife we say: 'the darkness of night is deeper than the shadow of the forest.' do you understand the chains on your heart can be stronger than the chains on your body?" he turned back to look at serina, his gaze lingering over the sparkling highlights the moon now sprinkled in her hair. he found himself suddenly remembering a yoruba woman he had loved once, not one of his wives, but a tall woman who served the royal compound at ife. he had met with her secretly, after his wives were killed in the wars, and he still thought of her often. something in the elegant face of this _mulata _brought back those memories even more strongly. she too had been strong-willed, like this one. was this woman also sacred to shango, as that one had been . . .? "you only become a slave when you give up your people." his voice grew gentle, almost a whisper. "what is your yoruba name?" "i'm not yoruba." she spoke quickly and curtly, forcing the words past her anger as she huddled for warmth, legs drawn up, arms encircling her knees. then she reached to pull her shift tighter about her and tried to clear her thoughts. the path on which hed carried her, through forests and fields, was a blurred memory. only slowly had she realized they were on a hillside now, overlooking the sea. he was beside her, wearing only a blue shirt and loincloth, his profile outlined in the moonlight. "don't say that. the first thing you must know is who you are. unless you understand that, you will always be a slave." "i know who i am. i'm _mulata_. portugues. i'm not african." she glanced down at the grass beside her bare feet and suddenly wished her skin were whiter. i'm the color of dead leaves, she thought shamefully, of the barren earth. then she gripped the hem of her shift and summoned back her pride. "i'm not a _preto_. why would i have an african name?" she felt her anger rising up once more, purging her feelings of helplessness. to be stolen from her bed by this ignorant _preto_, brought to some desolate spot with nothing but the distant sound of the sea. that he would dare to steal her away, a highborn mulata. she did not consort with blacks. she was almost . . . white. the wind laced suddenly through her hair, splaying it across her cheeks, and she realized the night air was perfumed now, almost as the cloth had been, a wild fragrance that seemed to dispel a portion of her anger, her humiliation. for a moment she found herself thinking of the forbidden things possible in the night, those hidden hours when the rules of day can be sacrificed to need. and she became aware of the warmth of his body next to hers as he crouched, waiting, motionless as the trees at the bottom of the hill. if she were his captive, then nothing he did to her would be of her own willing. how could she prevent him? yet he made no move to take her. why was he waiting? "but to have a yoruba name means to possess something the _branco _can never own." he caressed her again with his glance. even though she was pale, he had wanted her from the first moment he saw her. and he had recognized the same want in her eyes, only held in check by her pride. why was she so proud, he wondered. if anything, she should feel shame, that her skin was so wan and pale. in ife the women in the compounds would laugh at her, saying the moons would come and go and she would only wet her feet, barren. no man would take some frail albino to share his mat. even more--for all her fine ingles clothes and her soft bed she was ten times more slave than he would ever be. how to make her understand that? "you only become a slave when you give up the ways of your people. even if your father was a_ branco_, you were born of a yoruba woman. you still can be yoruba. and then you will be something, have something." the powerful hands that had carried her to this remote hilltop were now toying idly with the grass. "you are not the property of a _branco _unless you consent to be. to be a slave you must first submit, give him your spirit. if you refuse, if you remember your own people, he can never truly enslave you. he will have only your body, the work of your hands. the day you understand that, you are human again." "you are wrong." she straightened. "here in the americas you are whatever the _branco_ says. you will never be a man unless he says you are." she noticed a tiny race in her heartbeat and told herself again she did not want to feel desire for this preto, now or ever. "do you want to know why? because your skin is black. and to the ingles black is the color of evil. they have books of learning that say the christian god made africans black because they are born of evil; they are less than human. they say your blackness outside comes from your darkness within." she looked away, shamed once more by the shade of her own skin, her unmistakable kinship with this _preto _next to her. then she continued, bitterly repeating the things she'd heard that the puritan divines were now saying in the island's parish churches. "the ingles claim africans are not men but savages, something between man and beast. and because of that, their priests declare it is the will of their god that you be slaves. . . ." she had intended to goad him more, to pour out the abusive scorn she had so often endured herself, but the softness of the yoruba words against her tongue sounded more musical than she had wanted. he was quietly smiling as she continued. "and now i order you to take me back before master briggs discovers i'm gone." "the sun is many hours away. so for a while yet you won't have to see how black i am." he laughed and a pale glimmer of moonlight played across the three clan marks on his cheek. "i thought you had more understanding than is expected of a woman. perhaps i was wrong. we say 'the thread follows the needle; it does not make its own way.' for you the portugues, and now this _branco _briggs, have been the needle; you merely the thread." he grasped her shoulder and pulled her around. "why do you let some _branco _tell you who you are? i say they are the savages. they are not my color; they are sickly pale. they don't worship my gods; they pray to some cruel god who has no power over the earth. their language is ugly and harsh; mine is melodic, rich with verses and ancient wisdom." he smiled again at the irony of it. "but tonight you have told me something very important about the mind of these ingles. you have explained why they want so much to make me submit. if they think we are evil, then they must also think us powerful." suddenly he leaped to his feet and joyously whirled in a circle, entoning a deep, eerie chant toward the stars. it was like a song of triumph. she sat watching till he finished, then listened to the medley of frightened night birds from the dark down the hill. how could this _preto _understand so well her own secret shame, see so clearly the lies she told herself in order to live? abruptly he reached down and slipped his hands under her arms, lifting her up to him. "the first thing i want to do tonight is give you back a yoruba name. a name that has meaning." he paused. "what was your mother called?" "her name was dara." "our word for 'beautiful.'" he studied her angular face gravely. "it would suit you as well, for truly you are beautiful too. if you took that name, it would always remind you that your mother was a woman of our people." she found herself wishing she had the strength to push his warm body away, to shout out to him one final time that he was a _preto_, that his father was a _preto _and her own a _branco_, that she had no desire to so much as touch him. . . . but suddenly she was ashamed to say the word "white," and that shame brought a wave of anger. at him, at herself. all her life she had been proud to be _mulata_. what right did this illiterate _preto _have to make her feel ashamed now? "and what are you? you are a _preto _slave. who brings me to a hilltop in the dark of night and brags about freedom. tomorrow you will be a slave again, just like yesterday." "what am i?" angrily he gripped her arms and pulled her face next to his. the fierceness of his eyes again recalled the old _babalawo _in brazil; he had had the same pride in himself, his people. "i am more than the ingles here are. ask of them, and you will discover half once were criminals, or men with no lands of their own, no lineage. in my veins there is royal blood, a line hundreds of generations old. my own father was nearest the throne of the ruling oba in ife. he was a _babalawo_, as i am, but he was also a warrior. before he was betrayed in battle, he was the second most powerful man in ife. that's who i am, my father's son." "what happened? was he killed?" impulsively she took his hand and was surprised by its warmth. "he disappeared one day. many markets later i learned he was betrayed by some of our own people. because he was too powerful in ife. he was captured and taken down to the sea, sold to the portugues. i was young then. i had only known twelve rainy seasons. but i was not too young to hunt down the traitors who made him slave. they all died by my sword." he clenched his fist, then slowly it relaxed. "but enough. tonight i want just one thing. to teach you that you still can be free. that you can be yoruba again." "why do you want so much to change me?" "because, dara"--his eyes were locked on hers--"i would have you be my wife. here. i will not buy you with a bride price; instead i will kill the man who owns you." she felt a surge of confusion, entwined with want. but again her disdain of everything _preto _caught in her breast. why, she wondered, was she even bothering to listen? "after you make me 'yoruba,' i will still be a slave to the ingles." "only for a few more days." his face hardened, a tenseness that spread upward through his high cheeks and into his eyes. "wait another moon and you will see my warriors seize this island away from them." "i'll not be one of your yoruba wives." she drew back and clasped her arms close to her breasts, listening to the night, alive now with the sounds of whistling frogs and crickets. "rather than be wife to a yoruba, you would be whore to an ingles." he spat out the words. "which means to be nothing." "but if you take this island, you can have as many wives as you like. just as you surely have now in ife." she drew away, still not trusting the pounding in her chest. "what does one more mean to you?" "both my wives in ife are dead." his hand reached and stroked her hair. "they were killed by the fulani, years ago. i never chose more, though many families offered me their young women." "now you want war again. and death. here." "i raised my sword against my enemies in yorubaland. i will fight against them here. no yoruba will ever bow to others, black or white." he gently touched her cheek and smoothed her pale skin with his warm fingers. "you can stand with us when we rise up against the ingles." his touch tingled unexpectedly, like a bridge to some faraway time she dreamed about and still belonged to. for an instant she almost gave in to the impulse to circle her arms around him, pull him next to her. he stroked her cheek again, lovingly, before continuing. "perhaps if i kill all the ingles chiefs, then you will believe you are free. that your name is dara, and not what some portugues once decided to call you." he looked at her again and his eyes had softened now. "will you help me?" she watched as the moonlight glistened against the ebony of his skin. this _preto _slave was opening his life to her, something no other man had ever done. the _branco _despised his blackness even more than they did hers, but he bore their contempt with pride, with strength, more strength than she had ever before sensed in a man. and he needed her. someone finally needed her. she saw it in his eyes, a need he was still too proud to fully admit, a hunger for her to be with him, to share the days ahead when . . . _yes _. . . when she would stand with him to destroy the _branco_. "together." softly she reached up and circled her arms around his broad neck. suddenly his blackness was exquisite and beautiful. "tonight i will be wife to you. will you hold me now?" the wind whipped her long black hair across his shoulder, and before she could think she found herself raising her lips to his. he tasted of the forest, of a lost world across the sea she had never known. his scent was sharp, and male. she felt his thumb brush across her cheek and sensed the wetness of her own tears. what had brought this strange welling to her eyes, here on this desolate hillside. was it part of love? was that what she felt now, this equal giving and accepting of each other? she shoved back his open shirt, to pass her hands across the hard muscles of his chest. scars were there, deep, the signs of the warrior he once had been. then she slipped the rough cotton over his back, feeling the open cuts of the lashes, the marks of the slave he was now. suddenly she realized he wore them as proudly as sword cuts from battle. they were the emblem of his manhood, his defiance of the ingles, just as his cheek marks were the insignia of his clan. they were proof to all that his spirit still lived. she felt his hands touch her shift, and she reached gently to stop him. over the years in brazil so many men had used her. she had been given to any white visitor at the plantation who wanted her: first it was portuguese traders, ship captains, even priests. then conquering hollanders, officers of the dutch forces who had taken brazil. a hundred men, all born in europe, all unbathed and rank, all white. she had sensed their _branco _contempt for her with anger and shame. to this black yoruba, this strong, proud man of africa, she would give herself freely and with love. she met his gaze, then in a single motion pulled the shift over her head and tossed it away, shaking out the dark hair that fell across her shoulders. as she stood naked before him in the moonlight, the wind against her body seemed like a foretaste of the freedom, the love, he had promised. he studied her for a moment, the shadows of her firm breasts casting dark ellipses downward across her body. she was _dara_. slowly he grasped her waist and lifted her next to him. as she entwined her legs about his waist, he buried his face against her and together they laughed for joy. later she recalled the touch of his body, the soft grass, the sounds of the night in her ears as she cried out in completeness. the first she had ever known. and at last, a perfect quiet had seemed to enfold them as she held him in her arms, his strength tame as a child's. in the mists of dawn he brought her back, through the forest, serenaded by its invisible choir of egrets and whistling frogs. he carried her home across the rooftop, to her bed, to a world no longer real. "damn me, sir, i suppose you've heard the talk. i'll tell you i fear for the worst." johan ruyters wiped his mouth with a calloused hand and shoved his tankard across the table, motioning for a refill. the great cabin of the _defiance _was a mosaic of flickering shadows, lighted only by the swaying candle-lantern over the large oak table. "it could well be the end of dutch trade in all the english settlements, from here to virginia." "i suppose there's a chance. who can say?" winston reached for the flask of sack and passed it over. he was exhausted, but his mind was taut with anticipation. almost ready, he told himself; you'll be gone before the island explodes. there's only one last thing you need: a seasoned pilot for jamaica bay. "one of the stories i hear is that if barbados doesn't swear allegiance to parliament, there may be a blockade." "aye, but that can't last long. and frankly speaking, it matters little to me who governs this damned island, parliament or its own assembly." he waved his hand, then his look darkened. "no, it's this word about some kind of navigation act that troubles me." "you mean the story that parliament's thinking of passing an act restricting trade in all the american settlements to english bottoms?" "aye, and let's all pray it's not true. but we hear the damned london merchants are pushing for it. we've sowed, and now they'd be the ones to reap." "what do you think you'll do?" "do, sir? i'd say there's little we _can _do. the low countries don't want war with england. though that's what it all may lead to if london tries stopping free trade." he glanced around the timbered cabin: there was a sternchaser cannon lashed to blocks just inside the large windows aft and a locked rack of muskets and pistols secured forward. why had winston invited him aboard tonight? they had despised each other from the first. "the better part of our trade in the new world now's with virginia and bermuda, along with barbados and st. christopher down here in the caribbees. it'll ruin every captain i know if we're barred from ports in the english settlements." "well, the way things look now, you'd probably be wise just to weigh anchor and make for open sea, before there's any trouble here. assuming your sight drafts are all in order. " "aye, they're signed. but now i'm wondering if i'll ever see them settled." he leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his thinning gray hair. "i've finished scrubbing down the _zeelander _and started lading in some cotton. this was going to be my best run yet. god damn cromwell and his army. as long as the civil war was going on, nobody in london took much notice of the americas." "true enough. you hollanders got rich, since there was scarcely any english shipping. but in a way it'll be your own fault if barbados has to knuckle under now to england and english merchants." "i don't follow you, sir." ruyters regarded him questioningly. "it'd be a lot easier for them to stand and fight if they didn't have these new slaves you sold them." "that's a most peculiar idea, sir." he frowned. "how do you see that?" winston rose and strolled aft to the stern windows, studying the leaded glass for a moment before unlatching one frame and swinging it out. a gust of cool air washed across his face. "you hollanders have sold them several thousand africans who'd probably just as soon see the island turned back to a forest. so they'll be facing the english navy offshore, with a bunch of african warriors at their backs. i don't see how they can man both fronts." "that's a curious bit of speculation, sir. which i'm not sure i'd be ready to grant you. but it scarcely matters now." ruyters stared down at the table. "so what do you think's likely to happen?" "my guess is the assembly'll not surrender the island to cromwell without a fight. there's too much royalist sentiment there." he looked back at ruyters. "if there's a blockade, or if cromwell tries to land english forces, i'd wager they'll call up the militia and shoot back." "but they've nothing to fight with. scarcely any ordnance worth the name." "that's what i'm counting on." winston's eyes sobered. "what do you mean, sir?" "it's the poor man that remembers best who once lent him a shilling. i figure that anybody who helps them now will be remembered here in the days to come, regardless of how this turns out." "why in the name of hell would you bother helping them? no man with his wits about him wants to get caught in this, not if he's looking to his own interests." "i'll look to my interests as i see fit." winston glanced back. "and you can do the same." "aye, to be sure. i intend to. but what would you be doing getting mixed up in this trouble? there'll be powder and shot spent before it's over, sir, or i'm not a christian." "i figure there's today. and then there's tomorrow, when this island's going to be a sugar factory. and they'll need shippers. they won't forget who stood by them. if i pitch in a bit now--maybe help them fortify the point, for instance--i'll have first call. i'm thinking of buying another bottom, just for sugar." he looked at ruyters and laughed. "why should all the new sugar profits go to you damned butterboxes?" "well, sir, you're not under my command anymore. i can't stop you from trying." the dutchman cleared his throat noisily. "but they'd not forget so soon who's stood by them through all the years. ask any planter here and he'll tell you we've kept this island, and all the rest of the english settlements, from starving for the last twenty years." he took a swallow from his tankard, then settled it down thoughtfully. "though mind you, we needed them too. england had the spare people to settle the americas, which the low countries never had, but we've had the bottoms to ship them what they need. it's been a perfect partnership." he looked back at winston. "what exactly do you think you can do, i mean this business about fortifying the point?" "just a little arrangement i'm making with some members of the assembly." "i'm asking you as one gentleman to another, sir. plain as that." winston paused a few moments, then walked back from the window. the lantern light played across his lined face. "as a gentleman, then. between us i'm thinking i'll off-load some of the ordnance on the _defiance _and move it up to the point. i've got twice the cannon on board that they've got in place there. i figure i might also spare them a few budge-barrels of powder and some round shot if they need it." "i suppose i see your thinking." ruyters frowned and drank again. "but it's a fool's errand, for all that. even if they could manage to put up a fight, how long can they last? they're isolated." "who can say? but i hear there's talk in the assembly about trying to form an alliance of all the american settlements. they figure virginia and bermuda might join with them. everybody would, except maybe the puritans up in new england, who doubtless can be counted on to side with the hotheads in parliament." "and i say the devil take those new englanders. they've started shipping produce in their own bottoms, shutting us out. i've seen their flags carrying lumber to the canaries and madeira; they're even sending fish to portugal and spain now. when a few years past we were all but keeping them alive. ten years ago they even made dutch coin legal tender in massachusetts, since we handled the better part of their trade. but now i say the hell with them." his face turned hopeful. "but if there was an alliance of the other english settlements, i'll wager there'd be a chance they might manage to stand up to cromwell for a while. or at least hold out for terms, like you say. they need our shipping as much as we need them." "i've heard talk bermuda may be in favor of it. nobody knows about virginia." winston drank from his tankard. "but for now, the need's right here. at least that's what i'm counting on. if i can help them hold out, they'll remember who stood by them. anyway, i've got nothing to lose, except maybe a few culverin." ruyters eyed him in silence for a moment. the rhythmic creaking of the boards sounded through the smoky gloom of the cabin. finally he spoke. "let's be plain. what are they paying you?" "i told you." winston reached for the flask. "i've spoken to bedford, and i'm planning a deal for sugar contracts. i'll take it out in trade later." ruyters slammed down his own tankard. "god's wounds, they could just as well have talked to some of us! i'll warrant the dutch bottoms here've got enough ordnance to fortify both of the breastworks along the west coast." he looked up. "there're a good dozen merchantmen anchored in the bay right now. and we've all got some ordnance. i've even got a fine set of brass nine-pounders they could borrow." "i'd as soon keep this an english matter for now. there's no need for you dutchmen to get involved." winston emptied the flask into his tankard. "the way i see it, i can fortify the breastwork up on the point with what i've got on board. it'll help them hold off cromwell's fleet for a while, maybe soften the terms." he turned and tossed the bottle out the open stern window. "which is just enough to get me signatures on some contracts. then i take back the guns and cromwell can have the place." "what the pox, it's a free trade matter, sir. we've all got a stake in it." ruyters' look darkened. he thought of the profits he had enjoyed over the years trading with the english settlements. he'd sold household wares, cloth, and liquor to colonists in virginia and the caribbees, and he'd shipped back to europe with furs and tobacco from north america, cotton and dye woods from the caribbean. like all dutch fluyts, his ship was specially built to be lightly manned, enabling him to consistently undercut english shippers. then too, he and the other dutch traders made a science of stowage and took better care of their cargos. they could always sell cheaper, give longer credits, and offer lower freight rates than any english trader could. but now that they had slaves to swap for sugar, there would finally be some real profits. "i can't speak for the other men here, but it'd be no trouble for me to lend them a few guns too. . . . and i'd be more than willing to take payment in sugar contracts. maybe you could mention it privately to bedford. it'd have to be unofficial, if they're going to be using dutch guns against the english navy." "i'm not sure why i'd want to do that." "as a gentleman, sir. we both have a stake in keeping free trade. maybe you could just drop a word to bedford and ask him to bring it up with the assembly. tell him we might mislay a few culverin, if he could arrange to have some contracts drawn up." "what's in it for me?" "we'll strike an arrangement, sir. word of honor." ruyters look brightened. "to be settled later. when i can return the favor." "maybe you can do something for me now . . . if i agree." "you can name it, sir." "i've been thinking i could use a good bosun's mate. how about letting me have that crippled spaniard on the _zeelander _if you've still got him? what's his name . . . the one who had a limp after that fall from the yardarm when we were tacking in to nevis?" "you don't mean vargas?" "armando vargas, that's the one." ruyters squinted through the dim light. "he's one of the handiest lads aloft i've got, bad leg or no. a first-rate yardman." "well, i think i'd like to take him on." "i didn't know you were short-handed, sir." "that's my bargain." winston walked back to the window. "let me have him and i'll see what i can do about talking to bedford." "i suppose you remember he used to be a navigator of sorts for the spaniards. for that matter, i'll wager he knows as much as any man you're likely to come across about their shipping in the windward passage and their fortifications over there on the main." ruyters' eyes narrowed. "damn my soul, what the devil are you planning?" "i can always use a good man." he laughed. "those are my terms." "you're a lying rogue, i'll stake my life." he shoved back his chair. "but i still like the bargain, for it all. you've got a man. have bedford raise our matter with the assembly." "i'll see what i can do. only it's just between us for now, till we see how many guns they need." "it goes without saying." ruyters rose and extended his hand. "so we'll shake on it. a bargain sealed." he bowed. "your servant, sir." winston pushed open the cabin door and followed him down the companionway to the waist of the ship. ruyters' shallop was moored alongside, its lantern casting a shimmering light across the waves. the oarsmen bustled to station when they saw him emerge. he bowed again, then swung heavily down the rope ladder. winston stood pensively by the railing, inhaling the moist evening air and watching as the shallop's lantern slowly faded into the midnight. finally he turned and strolled up the companionway to the quarterdeck. miss katherine bedford should be pleased, he told himself. in any case, better they borrow dutch guns than mine. not that the extra ordnance will make much difference if cromwell posts a fleet of warships with trained gunners. with these planters manning their cannon, the fleet will make short work of the island. he started back for the cabin, then paused to watch the moonlight breaking over the crests and listen to the rhythmic pound of light surf along the shore. he looked back at the island and asked himself if katherine's was a cause worth helping. not if the americas end up the province of a few rich slaveholders--which on barbados has got to be sure as the sunrise. so just hold your own course, and let this island get whatever it deserves. he glanced over the ship and reflected again on his preparations, for the hundredth time. it wouldn't be easy, but the plan was coming together. the sight drafts were still safely locked away in the great cabin, ready for delivery day after tomorrow, when the transfer of the indentures became official. and the work of outfitting the ship for transport of men was all but finished. the gun deck had been cleared, with the spare budge barrels of powder and the auxiliary round shot moved to the hold, permitting sleeping hammocks to be lashed up for the new men. stores of salt fish, cheese, and biscuit had been assembled in a warehouse facing carlisle bay; and two hundred half pikes had been forged, fitted with staffs, and secured in the fo'c'sle, together with all of anthony walrond's new flintlock muskets. everything was ready. and now he finally had a pilot. armando vargas had made jamaica harbor a dozen times back when he sailed with the spaniards; he always liked to brag about it. once he'd even described in detail the lookout post on a hilltop somewhere west of jamaica bay. if they could slip some men past those sentries on the hill, the fortress and town would fall before the spaniards' militia even suspected they were around. then maybe he would take out time to answer the letter that'd just come from england. he turned and nodded to several of the men as he moved slowly back down the companionway and into the comforting quiet of the cabin. he'd go up to joan's tavern after a while, share a last tankard, and listen to that laugh of hers as he spun out the story of ruyters and the guns. but now he wanted solitude. he'd always believed he thought best, worked best, alone. he closed the large oak door of the great cabin, then walked to the windows aft and studied the wide sea. the caribbean was home now, the only home left. if there was any question of that before, there wasn't anymore, not after the letter. he stood a moment longer, then felt for the small key he always kept in his left breeches pocket. beneath a board at the side of the cabin was a movable panel, and behind it a heavy door, double secured. the key slipped easily into the metal locks, and he listened for the two soft clicks. inside were the sight bills, just visible in the flickering light of the lantern, and next to them was a stack of shipping invoices. finally there was the letter, its outside smeared with grease and the red wax of its seal cracked and half missing. he slipped it out and unfolded it along the creases, feeling his anger well up as he settled to read it one more time. _sir (i shall never again have the pleasure to address you as my obedient son), after many years of my thinking you perished, there has late come word you are abroad in the caribbees, a matter long known to certain others but until this day shielded from me, for reasons i now fully comprehend. the reputation i find you have acquired brings me no little pain, being that (so i am now advis'd) of a smuggler and brigand. _ he paused to glance out the stern window once again, remembering how the letter had arrived in the mail packet just delivered by the rotterdam. it was dated two months past, and it had been deposited at joan's tavern along with several others intended for seamen known to make port in barbados. _though i had these many long years thought you dead by the hands of the spaniard, yet i prayed unceasing to god it should not be so. now, upon hearing news of what you have become, i am constrained to question god's will. in that you have brought ignominy to my name, and to the name of those other two sons of mine, both dutiful, i can find no room for solace, nor can they. _he found his mind going back to memories of william and james, both older. he'd never cared much for either of them, and they'd returned his sentiment in full measure. william was the first--heavy set and slow of wit, with a noticeable weakness for sherry. since the eldest son inherited everything, he had by now doubtless taken charge of the two thousand acres that was winston manor, becoming a country squire who lived off rents from his tenants. and what of james, that nervous image of lord harold winston and no less ambitious and unyielding? probably by now he was a rich barrister, the profession he'd announced for himself sometime about age ten. or maybe he'd stood for parliament, there to uphold the now-ended cause of king charles. _that a son of mine should become celebrated in the americas for his contempt of law brings me distress beyond the telling of it. though i reared you with utmost care and patience, i oft had cause to ponder if you should ever come to any good end, being always of dissolute and unruly inclination. now i find your profession has been to defraud the english crown, to which you should be on your knees in reverence, and to injure the cause of honest merchants, who are the lifeblood of this christian nation. i am told your name has even reached the ears of his majesty, causing him no small dismay, and adding to his distresses at a time when the very throne of england is in peril from those who would, as you, set personal gain above loyalty and obedience. . . . _ he stopped, not wanting to read more, and crumpled the letter. that was the end of england. why would he want to go back? ever? if there'd once been a possibility, now it was gone. the time had come to plant roots in the new world. so what better place than jamaica? and damned to england. he turned again to the stern windows, feeling the end of all the unease that had come and gone over the years. this was it. but after jamaica, what? he was all alone. a white cloud floated past the moon, with a shape like the beakhead of a ship. for a moment it was a gargoyle, and then it was the head of a white horse. . . . he had turned back, still holding the paper, when he noticed the sound of distant pops, fragile explosions, from the direction of the point. he walked, puzzling, back to the safe and was closing the door, the key already in the lock, when he suddenly stopped. the assembly room was somewhere near lookout point, just across the bay. it was too much of a coincidence. with a silent curse he reached in and felt until his hand closed around the leather packet of sight bills, the ones he would exchange for the indentures. under them were the other papers he would need, and he took those too. then he quickly locked the cabinet and rose to make his way out to the companionway. as he passed the table, he reached for his pistols, checking the prime and shoving them into his belt as he moved out into the evening air. he moved aft to the quartergallery railing to listen again. now there could be no mistaking. up the hill, behind lookout point, there were flashes of light in the dark. musket fire. "what do you suppose it could be, cap'n?" john mewes appeared at the head of the companionway. "just pray it's not what i think it is. or we may need some powder and shot ourselves." he glanced back toward the hill. "sound general muster. every man on deck." "aye." mewes turned and headed for the quarterdeck. even as the bell was still sounding, seamen began to appear through the open hatch, some half dressed and groggy. others were mumbling that their dice game had been interrupted. winston met them on the main deck, and slowly they formed a ragged column facing him. now there was more gunfire from the hill, unmistakable. "i'm going to issue muskets." he walked along the line, checking each seaman personally. every other man seemed to be tipsy. "to every man here that's sober. we're going ashore, and you'll be under my command." "beggin' yor pardon, cap'n, what's all that commotion up there apt to be?" a grizzled seaman peered toward the sounds as he finished securing the string supporting his breeches. "it might just be the inauguration of a new civil war, hawkins." winston's voice sounded down the deck. "so look lively. we collect on our sight bills. tonight." chapter seven the jagged peninsula known as lookout point projected off the southwestern tip of barbados, separating the windy atlantic on the south from the calm of the leeward coast on the west. at its farthest tip, situated on a stone cliff that rose some hundred feet above the entrance to carlisle bay, were the breastwork and gun emplacements. intended for harbor defense only, its few projecting cannon all pointed out toward the channel leading into the bay, past the line of coral reefs that sheltered the harbor on its southern side. from the deck of the _defiance_, at anchor near the river mouth and across the bay from the peninsula, the gunfire seemed to be coming from the direction of the new assembly room, a thatched-roof stone building up the hill beyond the breastwork. constructed under the authority of governor dalby bedford, it housed the general assembly of barbados, which consisted of two representatives elected from each of the eleven parishes on the island. all free men in possession of five acres or more could vote, ballots being cast at the parish churches. while winston unlocked the gun racks in the fo'c'sle and began issuing the muskets and the bandoliers of powder and shot, john mewes ordered the two longboats lashed amidships readied and launched. the seamen lined up single file at the doorway of the fo'c'sle to receive their muskets, then swung down the rope ladders and into the boats. winston took his place in one and gave command of the other to john mewes. as the men strained against the oars and headed across the bay, he studied the row of cannon projecting out over the moonlit sea from the top of the breastwork. they've never been used, he thought wryly, except maybe for ceremonial salutes. that's what they call harbor defenses! it's a mercy of god the island's so far windward from the main that the spaniards've never troubled to burn the place out. he sat on the prow of the longboat, collecting his thoughts while he tasted the air and the scent of the sea. the whitecaps of the bay slipped past in the moonlight as they steered to leeward of the line of dutch merchantmen anchored near the shore. he then noticed a bob of lanterns on the southeast horizon and realized it was an arriving merchantman, with a heading that would bring it directly into the harbor. he watched the lights awhile, marveling at the dutch trading zeal that would cause a captain to steer past the reefs into the harbor in the hours after midnight. he congratulated himself he'd long ago given up trying to compete head-on with the hollanders. they practically owned the english settlements in the americas. scarce wonder cromwell's first order of business was to be rid of them. the sound of the tide lapping against the beach as the two longboats neared the shore beneath the breastwork brought his attention back. when they scraped into the shallows, he dropped off the prow and waded through the knee-high surf that chased up the sand in wave after wave. ahead the beach glistened white, till it gave way to the rocks at the base of the point. john mewes puffed along close at his heels, and after him came the first mate, dick hawkins, unshaven but alert, musket at the ready. close behind strode tall edwin spune, master's mate, a musket in each hand, followed by the rest. in all, some twenty of winston's men had crossed the bay with him. he ordered the longboats beached, then called the men together and motioned for quiet. "are all muskets primed?" "aye." spurre stepped forward, holding his two muskets up as though for inspection. "an' every man's got an extra bandolier of powder an' shot. we're ready for whatever the whoresons try." he glanced up the rise, puzzled, still not understanding why the captain had assembled them. but hugh winston liked having his orders obeyed. "good." winston walked down the line. "spread out along the shore and wait. i'm going up to see what the shooting's about. just stand ready till you hear from me. but if you see me fire a pistol shot, you be up that hill like jack-be-nimble. is that clear?" "you mean us against all that bleedin' lot up there?" john mewes squinted toward the dark rise. "there's apt to be half their militia up there, cap'n, from the sound of it." "did i hear you question an order, john? you know ship's rules. they go for officers too." he turned to the other men. "should we call a vote right here?" "god's life." mewes pushed forward, remembering winston's formula for discipline on the _defiance_. he didn't even own a cat-o'nine-tails, the lash used by most ship captains for punishment. he never touched an offender. he always just put trial and punishment to a show of hands by the men--whose favorite entertainment was keelhauling any seaman who disobeyed captain's orders, lashing a line to his waist and ducking him under the hull till he was half drowned. "i wasn't doin' no questioning. not for a minute. i must've just been mumbling in my sleep." "then try and stay awake. i'm going up there now, alone. but if i need you, you'd better be there, john. with the men. that's an order." "aye." mewes performed what passed for a salute, then cocked his musket with a flourish. winston loosened the pistols in his belt, checked the packet containing the sight bills and the other papers he had brought, then headed directly up the rise. the approach to lookout point was deserted, but up the hill, behind a new stack of logs, he could see the shadowy outline of a crowd. the barricade, no more than fifty yards from the assembly room, was in the final stages of construction, as men with torches dragged logs forward. others, militia officers, were stationed behind the logs with muskets and were returning pistol fire from the half-open doorway of the assembly room. above the din he could hear the occasional shouts of benjamin briggs, who appeared to be in charge. together with him were the members of the council and officers from their regiments. the command of the militia was restricted to major landholders: a field officer had to own at least a hundred acres, a captain fifty, a lieutenant twenty-five, and even an ensign had to have fifteen. on the barricade were straw-hatted indentures belonging to members of the council, armed only with pikes since the planters did not trust them with muskets. winston recognized among them many whom he had agreed to take. the firing was sputtering to a lull as he approached. then briggs spotted him and yelled out. "you'd best be gone, sir. before someone in the assembly room gets a mind to put a round of pistol shot in your breeches." "i'm not part of your little war." "that you're decidedly not, sir. so we'll not be requiring your services here tonight." "what's the difficulty?" winston was still walking directly toward them. "it's a matter of the safety of barbados. i've said it doesn't concern you." "those indentures concern me. i don't want them shot." "tell that to the assembly, sir. we came here tonight offering to take dalby bedford under our care, peacefully. to protect him from elements on the island who're set to disown parliament. but some of the hotheads in there mistook our peaceful purpose and opened fire on us." "maybe they think they can 'protect' him better than you can." another round of fire sounded from the doorway of the assembly room and thudded into the log barricade. when two of the planters cursed and fired back, the door was abruptly slammed shut. "it's the assembly that's usurped rightful rule here, sir, as tonight should amply show. when they no longer represent the true interests of barbados." briggs glared at him. "we're restoring proper authority to this island, long overdue." "you and the council can restore whatever you like. i'm just here to take care of my indentures, before you manage to have some of them killed." "they're not yours yet, sir. the situation's changed. we're not letting them go whilst the island's unsettled." "the only unsettling thing i see here are all those muskets." he reached into the pocket of his jerkin and lifted out the leather packet containing the sight drafts. "so we're going to make that transfer, right now." "well, i'm damned if you'll have a single man. this is not the time agreed." briggs looked around at the other members of the council. behind them the crowd of indentures had stopped work to listen. "the sight bills are payable on demand. we've settled the terms, and i'm officially calling them in." winston passed over the packet. "you've got plenty of witnesses. here're the sight bills. as of now, the indentures are mine." he pulled a sheaf of papers from the other pocket of his jerkin. ' 'you're welcome to look over the drafts while i start checking off the men." briggs seized the leather packet and flung it to the ground. then he lifted his musket. "these indentures are still under our authority. until we say, no man's going to take them. not even. . ." a series of musket shots erupted from the window of the assembly room, causing briggs and the other planters to duck down behind the log barricade. winston remained standing as he called out the first name on the sheet. "timothy farrell." the red-faced irishman climbed around briggs and moved forward, his face puzzled. he remained behind the pile of logs as he hunkered down, still holding his half-pike. "that's my name, yor worship. but master briggs . . ." "farrell, here's the indenture contract we drew up for your transfer." winston held out the first paper from the sheaf. "i've marked it paid and had it stamped. come and get it and you're free to go." "what's this, yor worship?" he gingerly reached up for the paper and stared at it in the torchlight, uncomprehending. "i heard you was like to be buying out my contract. by my reckoning there's two more year left on it." "i did just buy it. it's there in your hand. you're a free man." farrell sat staring at the paper, examining the stamped wax seal and attempting to decipher the writing. a sudden silence enveloped the crowd, punctuated by another round of musket fire from the assembly room. after it died away, winston continued, "now farrell, if you'd care to be part of an expedition of mine that'll be leaving barbados in a few days' time, that's your privilege. starting tonight, your pay'll be five shillings a week." "beggin' yor worship's pardon, i reckon i'm not understandin' what you've said. you've bought this contract? an' you've already marked it paid?" "with those sight bills." he pointed to the packet on the ground beside briggs. farrell glanced at the leather bundle skeptically. then he looked back at winston. "an' now you're sayin' i'm free?" "it's stamped on that contract. have somebody read it if you care to." "an' i can serve yor worship for wage if i like?" his voice began to rise. "five shillings a week for now. maybe more later, if you . . ." "holy mother mary an' all the saints! _i'm free_!" he crumpled the paper into his pocket, then leaped up as he flung his straw hat into the air. "free! i ne'er thought i'd stay breathin' long enough to hear the word." he glanced quickly at the assembly room, then dismissed the danger as he began to dance beside the logs. "_at the dirty end o' dirty lane_, _liv'd a dirty cobbler, dick maclane ..." _"that man still belongs to me." briggs half cocked his musket as he rose. farrell whirled and brandished his half-pike at the planter. "you can fry in hell, you pox-rotted bastard. i've lived on your corn mush an' water for three years, till i'm scarce able to stand. an' sweated sunup to sundown in your blazin' fields, hoein' your damn'd tobacco, and now your god-cursed cane. with not a farthing o' me own to show for it, or a change o' breeches. but his worship says he's paid me out. an' his paper says i'm free. that means free as you are, by god. i'll be puttin' this pike in your belly--by god i will--or any man here, who says another word against his worship. i'll serve him as long as i'm standin', or pray god to strike me dead." he gave another whoop. "good jesus, who's got a thirst! i'm free!" "jim carroll." winston's voice continued mechanically, sounding above the din that swept through the indentures. "present an' most humbly at yor worship's service." a second man elbowed his way forward through the cluster of briggs' indentures, shoving several others out of his path. "here's your contract, carroll. it's been stamped paid and you're free to go. or you can serve under me if you choose. you've heard the terms." "i'd serve you for a ha'penny a year, yor worship." he seized the paper and gave a gaelic cheer, a tear lining down one cheek. "i've naught to show for four years in the fields but aches an' an empty belly. i'll die right here under your command before i'd serve another minute under that whoreson." "god damn you, winston." briggs full-cocked his musket with an ominous click. "if you think i'll . . ." carroll whirled and thrust his pike into briggs' face. "it's free i am, by god. an' it's me you'll be killin' before you harm a hair o' his worship, if i don't gut you first." briggs backed away from the pike, still clutching his musket. the other members of the council had formed a circle and cocked their guns. "you don't own these damned indentures yet," nicholas whittington shouted. "we've not agreed to a transfer now." "you've got your sight drafts. those were the terms. if you want these men to stay, tell it to them." he checked the sheaf of papers and yelled out the next name: "tom darcy." as a haggard man in a shabby straw hat pushed forward, winston turned back to the huddle that was the council. "you're welcome to offer them a wage and see if they'd want to stay on. since their contracts are all stamped paid, i don't have any say in it anymore." "well, i have a say in it, sir." whittington lifted his musket. "i plan to have an end to this knavery right now, before it gets out of hand. one more word from you, and it'll be your . . ." winston looked up and yelled to the crowd of indentures. "i gather you've heard who's on the list. if those men'll come up, you can have your papers. your contracts are paid, and you're free to go. any man who chooses to serve under me can join me here now." whittington was knocked sprawling by the surge of the crowd, as straw hats were flung into the air. a milling mob of indentures waving half- pikes pressed forward. papers from the sheaf in winston's hand were passed eagerly through the ranks. the council and the officers of their militia had drawn together for protection, still grasping their muskets. in the confusion no one noticed the shaft of light from the doorway of the assembly room that cut across the open space separating it from the barricade. one by one the members of the assembly gingerly emerged to watch. leading them was anthony walrond, wearing a brocade doublet and holding a long flintlock pistol, puzzlement in his face. briggs finally saw them and whirled to cover the assemblymen with his musket. "we say deliver up bedford or there'll be hell to pay, i swear it!" "put down that musket, you whoreson." farrell gave a yell and threw himself across the barrel of the gun, seizing the muzzle and shoving it in to the dirt. there was a loud report as it discharged, exploding at the breech and spewing burning powder into the night. "christ almighty." walrond moved out into the night and several men from the assembly trailed after him, dressed in plain doublets and carrying pistols. "what the devil's this about?" "nothing that concerns you." winston dropped a hand to one of the guns in his belt. "i'd advise you all to go back inside till i'm finished." "we were just concluding a meeting of the assembly, sir." walrond examined winston icily, then glanced toward the men of the council. "when these rogues tried to commandeer the room, claiming they'd come to seize the governor, to 'protect' him. i take it you're part of this conspiracy." "i'm here to protect my interests. which gives me as much right as you have to be here. i don't recall that you're elected to this body." "i'm here tonight in an advisory capacity, captain, not that it's any of your concern." walrond glanced back at the others, all warily holding pistols. "to offer my views regarding the situation in england." as he spoke dalby bedford emerged from the crowd. walking behind him was katherine. winston turned to watch, thinking she was even more beautiful than he had realized before. her face was radiant, self-assured as she moved through the dim torchlight in a glistening skirt and full sleeves. she smiled and pushed toward him. "captain winston, are you to be thanked for all this confusion?" "only a part of it, miss bedford. i merely stopped by to enquire about my indentures, since i got the idea some of your assemblymen were shooting at them." anthony walrond stared at katherine. "may i take it you know this man? it does you no credit, madam, i warrant you." then he turned and moved down the path, directly toward briggs and the members of the council. "and i can tell all of you this night is far from finished. there'll be an accounting here, sirs, you may depend on it. laws have been violated." "you, sir, should know that best of all." briggs stepped forward and dropped his hand to the pistol still in his belt. "since you and this pack of royalist agitators that calls itself an assembly would unlawfully steer this island to ruin. the council of barbados holds that this body deserves to be dissolved forthwith, and new elections held, to represent the interests of the island against those who'd lead us into a fool's war with the commonwealth of england." "you, sir, speak now in the very same voice as the rebels there. i presume you'd have this island bow to the criminals in parliament who're now threatening to behead our lawful king." "gentlemen, please." dalby bedford moved between them and raised his hand. "i won't stand for this wrangling. we all have to try to settle our differences like englishmen. i, for one, would have no objection to inviting the council to sit with us in the assembly, have a joint session, and try to reason out what's the wisest course now." "i see no reason this body need share a table with a crowd of rebels who'll not bend a knee to the rightful sovereign of england." walrond turned back to the members of the assembly. "i say you should this very night draw up a loyalty oath for barbados. any man who refuses to swear fealty to his majesty should be deported back to england, to join the traitors who would unlawfully destroy the monarchy." "no!" katherine abruptly pushed in front of him. "this island stayed neutral all through the civil war. we never took a part, either for king or parliament. why should we take sides now, with the war over and finished?" walrond looked down at her, startled. "because the time has come to stand and be counted, katherine. why do you suppose? the rebels may have seized england for now, but that's no reason we in the americas have to turn our back on the king." "but there's another choice." she drew a deep breath. winston saw determination in her eyes as she turned to face the men of the assembly. "think about it. we never belonged to england; we belonged to the crown. but the monarchy's been abolished and the king's patents invalidated. i say we should join with the other english settlements and declare the americas a new nation. barbados should lead the way and declare our own independence." "that's the damnedest idea i've ever heard." briggs moved forward, shaking away the indentures who still crowded around him menacingly. "if we did that, there'd be war for sure. we've got to stay english, or cromwell'll send the army to burn us out." he turned to walrond. "rebel or no, cromwell represents the might of england. we'd be fools to try to stand against him. either for king or for some fool dream of independence." he looked back at katherine. "where'd you get such an idea, girl? it'd be the end of our hopes for prosperity if we tried going to war with england. there'd be no room to negotiate." "you, sir, have no say in this. you're apt to be on trial for treason before the week's out." walrond waved his pistol at briggs, then turned back to katherine. "what are you talking about? england is beholden to her king, madam, much the way, i might remind you, a wife is to her husband. or don't you yet understand that? it's our place to revere and serve the monarchy." "as far as i'm concerned, the king's only a man. and so's a husband, sir." "a wife takes an oath in marriage, madam, to obey her husband. you'd best remember that." he turned and motioned the members of the assembly to gather around him as he stepped over to a large log and mounted it. "on the subject of obedience, i say again an oath of loyalty to his majesty king charles should be voted in the barbados assembly this very morning. we need to know where this island stands." he stared back at dalby bedford. "much as a husband would do well to know what he can expect when he takes a wife." "you've got no authority to call a vote by the assembly," briggs sputtered. "you're not elected to it." he looked at walrond, then at bedford. "this, by god, was the very thing we came here tonight to head off." "you, sir, have no authority to interfere in the lawful processes of this body." walrond turned back to the assembly members, now huddled in conference. winston looked at katherine and found himself admiring her idealism-- and her brass, openly defying the man she was supposed to marry. she wanted independence for the americas, he now realized, while all anthony walrond wanted was to turn barbados into a government in exile for the king, maybe to someday restore his fortune in england. she was an independent woman herself too, make no mistaking. sir anthony walrond was going to have himself a handful in the future, with the commonwealth and with her. come to think of it, though, independence wasn't all that bad an idea. why the hell not? damned to england. "i think there've been enough high-handed attempts to take over this island for one night." he moved to confront walrond. "you have your brass, captain, to even show your face here." he inspected winston with his good eye. "when you pillaged a ship of mine off nevis island, broadcloth and muskets, no more than two years past." "now that you've brought it up, what i did was save the lives of some fifty men who were about to drown for want of a seaworthy longboat. since you saved so much money on equipage, i figured you could afford to compensate me for my pains." "it was theft, sir, by any law." "then the law be hanged." "hardly a surprising sentiment, coming from you." walrond shifted his pistol toward winston's direction. "you should be on tortuga, with the other rogues of your own stripe, rather than here on barbados amongst honest men. your profession, captain, has trained you best for the end of a rope." "what's yours trained you for?" he stood unmoving. "get yourself elected to the assembly, then make your speeches. i'm tired of hearing about your king. in truth, i never had a very high opinion of him myself." "back off, sirrah. i warn you now." walrond pointed his long pistol. "you're speaking your impertinences to an officer of the king's army. i've dealt with a few thieves and smugglers in years past, and i just may decide to mete out some more long-overdue justice here and now." dalby bedford cleared his throat and stepped between them. "gentlemen, i think there's been more heat here tonight than need be, all around. it could be well if we cooled off a day or so. i trust the assembly would second my motion for adjournment of this session, till we've had time to reflect on what's the best course for us. this is scarcely a light matter. we could be heading into war with england." "a prospect that does not deter certain of us from acting on principle, sir." walrond's voice welled up again. "i demand this assembly take a vote right now on . . ." "you'll vote on nothing, by god," briggs yelled, then drew his own pistol. suddenly a fistfight erupted between two members of the assembly, one for and the other opposing the monarchy. then others joined in. in the excitement, several pistols were discharged in the fray. good god, winston thought, barbados' famous assembly has been reduced to this. he noticed absently that the first gray coloring of dawn was already beginning to appear in the east. it'd been a long night. what'll happen when day finally comes and news of all this reaches the rest of the island? where will it end. . . "belay there! cool down your ordnance!" above the shouts and bedlam, a voice sounded from the direction of the shore. winston turned to see the light of a swinging sea lantern approaching up the rise. he recognized the ragged outline of johan ruyters, still in the clothes he had worn earlier that night, puffing up the hill. ruyters topped the rise and surveyed the confusion. his presence seemed to immediately dampen the melee, as several assemblymen paused in embarrassment to stare. the dutchman walked directly up to dalby bedford and tipped his wide-brimmed hat. "your servant, sir." then he gazed around. "your most obedient servant, gentlemen, one and all." he nodded to the crowd before turning back to address bedford. "though it's never been my practice to intrude in your solemn english convocations, i thought it would be well for you to hear what i just learned." he drew a deep breath and settled his lantern onto the grass. "the _kostverloren_, bound from amsterdam, has just dropped anchor in the bay, and captain liebergen called us all together in a rare sweat. he says when dark caught him last evening he was no more than three leagues ahead of an english fleet." "great god help us." walrond sucked in his breath. "aye, that was my thinking as well." ruyters glanced back. "if i had to guess, i'd say your english parliament's sent the navy, gentlemen. so we may all have to be giving god a hand if we're not to have the harbor taken by daylight. for once a rumor's proved all too true." "god's life, how many were sailing?" bedford whirled to squint toward the dim horizon. "his maintopman thinks he may've counted some fifteen sail. half of them looked to be merchantmen, but the rest were clearly men-of-war, maybe thirty guns apiece. we're all readying to weigh anchor and hoist sail at first light, but it's apt to be too late now. i'd say with the guns they've got, and the canvas, they'll have the harbor in a bottle by daybreak." "i don't believe you." walrond gazed skeptically toward the east. "as you will, sir." ruyters smiled. "but if you'd be pleased to send a man up to the top of the hill, right over there, i'd wager he just might be able to spy their tops'ls for himself." winston felt the life suddenly flow out of him. it was the end of his plans. with the harbor blockaded, he'd never be able to sail with the indentures. he might never sail at all. "god almighty, you don't have to send anybody." bedford was pointing toward the horizon. "don't you see it?" just beneath the gray cloudbank was an unmistakable string of flickering pinpoints, mast lights. the crowd gathered to stare in dismay. finally bedford's voice came, hard and determined. "we've got to meet them. the question is, what're their damned intentions?" ruyters picked up his lantern and extinguished it. "by my thinking the first thing you'd best do is man those guns down there on the point, and then make your enquiries. you can't let them into the bay. we've got shipping there, sir. and a fortune in cargo. there'll be hell to pay, i promise you, if i lose so much as a florin in goods." bedford gazed down the hill, toward the gun emplacements at the ocean cliff. "aye, but we don't yet know why the fleet's come. we've only had rumors." "at least one of those rumors was based on fact, sir." briggs had moved beside them. "i have it on authority, from my broker in london, that an act was reported from the council of state four weeks past to embargo our shipping till the assembly votes recognition of the commonwealth. he even sent me a copy. and this fleet was already being pulled together at the time. i don't know how many men-o'-war they've sent, but i heard the flagship was to be the _rainbowe_. fifty guns." he looked back at the assembly. "and the surest way to put an end to our prosperity now would be to resist." he was rudely shouted down by several assemblymen, royalists cursing the commonwealth. the air came alive with calls for defiance. "well, we're going to find out what they're about before we do anything, one way or the other." bedford looked around him. "we've got guns down there in the breastwork. i'd say we can at least keep them out of the bay for now." "not without gunners, you won't." ruyters' voice was somber. "who've you got here? show me a man who's ever handled a linstock, and i'll give you leave to hang me. and i'll not be lending you my lads, though i'd dearly love to. it'd be a clear act of war." winston was staring down at the shore, toward his own waiting seamen. if the english navy entered carlisle bay, the first vessel they'd confiscate would be the _defiance_. "god help me." he paused a moment longer, then walked to the edge of the hill and drew a pistol. the shot echoed through the morning silence. the report brought a chorus of yells from the shore. suddenly a band of seamen were charging up the hill, muskets at the ready, led by john mewes. winston waited till they topped the rise, then he gestured them forward. "all gunnery mates report to duty at the breastwork down there at the point, on the double." he pointed toward the row of rusty cannon overlooking the bay. "master gunner tom canninge's in charge." several of the men gave a loose salute and turned to hurry down the hill. winston watched them go, then looked back at bedford. "how much powder do you have?" "powder? i'm not sure anybody knows. we'll have to check the magazine over there." bedford gestured toward a low building situated well behind the breastwork, surrounded by its own stone fortification. "i'd say there's likely a dozen barrels or so." winston glanced at mewes. "go check it, john. see if it's usable." "aye." mewes passed his musket to one of the french seamen and was gone. "and that rusty pile of round shot i see down there by the breastwork? is that the best you've got?" "that's all we have on the point. there's more shot at jamestown and over at oistins." "no time." he motioned to ruyters. "remember our agreement last night?" "aye, and i suppose there's no choice. i couldn't make open sea in time now anyway." the dutchman's eyes were rueful. "i'll have some round shot sent up first, and then start offloading my nine-pound demi- culverin." "all we need now is enough shot to make them think we've got a decent battery up here. we can bring up more ordnance later." "may i remind you," bedford interjected, "we're not planning to start an all-out war. we just need time to try and talk reason with parliament, to try and keep what we've got here." winston noticed briggs and several members of the council had convened in solemn conference. if an attack comes, he found himself wondering, which of them will be the first to side with parliament's forces and betray the island? "there's twenty budge-barrels, cap'n." mewes was returning. "i gave it a taste an' i'll wager it's dry and usable." winston nodded, then motioned toward edwin spurre. "have the men here carry five barrels on down to the point, so the gunnery mates can start priming the culverin. be sure they check all the touch holes for rust." "aye." spurre signaled four of the seamen to follow him as he started off toward the powder magazine. suddenly he was surrounded and halted by a group of irish indentures. timothy farrell approached winston and bowed. "so please yor worship, we'd like to be doin' any carryin' you need here. an' we'd like to be the ones meetin' them on the beaches." "you don't have to involve yourself, farrell. i'd say you've got little enough here to risk your life for." "aye, yor worship, that's as it may be. but are we to understand that fleet out there's been sent by that whoreson archfiend oliver cromwell?" "that's what we think now." "then beggin' yor worship's pardon, we'd like to be the men to gut every scum on board. has yor worship heard what he did at drogheda?" "i heard he sent the army." "aye. when ireland refused to bow to his parliament, he claimed we were papists who had no rights. he led his puritan troops to irish soil, yor worship, and laid siege to our garrison-city of drogheda. then he let his soldiers slaughter our people. three thousand men, women, and children. an' for it, he was praised from the puritan pulpits in england." farrell paused to collect himself. "my cousin died there, yor worship, wi' his meggie. an' one of cromwell's brave puritan soldiers used their little daughter as a shield when he helped storm an' burn the church, so they could murder the priests. maybe that heretic bastard thinks we've not heard about it here." he bowed again. "we don't know enough about primin' and firin' cannon, but wi' yor worship's leave, we'd like to be the ones carryin' all the powder and shot for you." "permission granted." winston thumbed them in the direction of spurre. the armada of sails was clearly visible on the horizon now, and rapidly swelling. as the first streaks of dawn showed across the waters, english colors could be seen on the flagship. it was dark brown and massive, with wide cream-colored sails. now it had put on extra canvas, pulling away from the fleet, bearing down on the harbor. winston studied the man-of-war, marveling at its majesty and size. how ironic, he thought. england's never sent a decent warship against the spaniards in the new world, even after they burned out helpless settlements. but now they send the pick of the navy, against their own people. "damned to them, that is the _rainbowe_." bedford squinted at the ship. "she's a first-rank man-of-war, fifty guns. she was king charles' royal ship of war. she'll transport a good two hundred infantry." winston felt his stomach tighten. could it be there'd be more than a blockade? had parliament really sent the english army to invade the island? "i'm going down to the breastwork." he glanced quickly at katherine, then turned and began to make his way toward the gun emplacements. edwin spurre and the indentures were moving slowly through the early half-light, carrying kegs of powder. "i think we can manage with these guns, cap'n." canninge was standing by the first cannon, his long hair matted against the sweat on his forehead. "i've cleaned out the touch holes and checked the charge delivered by the powder ladle we found. they're eighteen-pounders, culverin, and there's some shot here that ought to serve." "then prime and load them. on the double." "aye." using a long-handled ladle, he and the men began to shove precisely measured charges of powder, twenty pounds, into the muzzle of each cannon. the indentures were heaving round shot onto their shoulders and stacking piles beside the guns. winston watched the approaching sail, wondering how and why it had suddenly all come to this. was he about to be the first man in the americas to fire a shot declaring war against england? he looked around to see dalby bedford standing behind him, with katherine at his side. "you know what it means if we open fire on the _rainbowe_? i'd guess it's cromwell's flagship now." "i do indeed. it'd be war. i pray it'll not come to that. i'd like to try and talk with them first, if we can keep them out of the bay." the governor's face was grim. "try once across her bow. just a warning. maybe she'll strike sail and let us know her business." "care to hold one last vote in the assembly about this, before we fire the first shot? something tells me it's not likely to be the last." "we've just talked. there's no need for a vote. no man here, royalist or no, is going to stand by and just hand over this place. we'll negotiate, but we'll not throw up our hands and surrender. there's too much at stake." winston nodded and turned to canninge. "they're pulling close to range. when you're ready, lay a round across her bow. then hold for orders." "aye." canninge smiled and pointed toward a small gun at the end of the row, its dark brass glistening in the early light. "i'll use that little six-pounder. we'll save the eighteen-pounders for the work to come. "have you got range yet?" "give me a minute to set her, and i'll wager i can lay a round shot two hundred yards in front of the bow." he turned and barked an order. seamen hauled the tackles, rolling the gun into position. then they levered the breech slightly upward to lower the muzzle, jamming a wooden wedge between the gun and the wooden truck to set it in position. winston took a deep breath, then glanced back at bedford. "this may be the most damn foolhardy thing that's ever been done." bedford's voice was grave. "it's on my authority." he turned back to canninge. "fire when ready." the words were swallowed in the roar as the gunner touched a piece of burning matchrope to the cannon's firing hole. dark smoke boiled up from the muzzle, acrid in the fresh morning air. moments later a plume erupted off the bow of the english man-of-war. almost as though the ship had been waiting, it veered suddenly to port. winston realized the guns had already been run out. they'd been prepared. puffs of black smoke blossomed out of the upper gun deck, and moments later a line of plumes shot up along the surf just below the point. "they fired when they dipped into a swell." canninge laughed. "english gunnery still disappoints me." a fearful hush dropped over the crowd, and winston stood listening as the sound of the guns echoed over the point. "they probably don't suspect we've got any trained gunners up here this morning. otherwise they'd never have opened fire when they're right under our ordnance." he glanced at bedford. "you've got their reply. what's yours?" "i suppose there's only one answer." the governor looked back and surveyed the waiting members of the assembly. several men removed their hats and began to confer together. moments later they looked up and nodded. he turned back. "what can you do to her?" "is that authority to fire?" "full authority." "then get everybody back up the hill. now." he watched as bedford gave the order and the crowd began to quickly melt away. the irish indentures waited behind winston, refusing to move. he gestured a few of the men forward, to help set the guns, then turned back to canninge. "is there range?" "aye, just give me a minute to set the rest of these culverin." winston heard a rustle of skirts by his side and knew katherine was standing next to him. he reached out and caught her arm. "you've got a war now, katherine, whether you wanted it or not. it'll be the first time a settlement in the americas has ever fired on an english ship. i guess that's the price you're going to have to pay for staying your own master. but i doubt you'll manage it." "we just might." she reached and touched the hand on her arm. then she turned and looked out to sea. "we have to try." winston glanced toward the guns. canninge and the men had finished turning them on the _rainbowe_, using long wooden handspikes. now they were adjusting the wooden wedge at the breech of each gun to set the altitude. "how does it look?" "i know these eighteen-pounders, cap'n, like i was born to one. at this range i could line-of-sight these whoresons any place you like." " how about just under the lower gun deck? at the water line? the first round better count." "aye, that's what i've set them for." he grinned and reached for a burning linstock. "i didn't figure we was up here to send a salute." book two revolution chapter eight the declaration _"we find these acts of the english parliament to oppose the freedom, safety, and well-being of this island. we, the present inhabitants of barbados, with great danger to our persons, and with great charge and trouble, have settled this island in its condition and inhabited the same, and shall we therefore be subjected to the will and command of those that stay at home? shall we be bound to the government and lordship of a parliament in which we have no representatives or persons chosen by us? it is alleged that the inhabitants of this island have, by cunning and force, usurped a power and formed an independent government. in truth the government now used among us is the same that hath always been ratified, and doth everyway agree with the first settlement and government in this place. futhermore, by the above said act all foreign nations are forbidden to hold any correspondency or traffick with the inhabitants of this island; although all the inhabitants know very well how greatly we have been obliged to the dutch for our subsistence, and how difficult it would have been for us, without their assistance, ever to have inhabited these places in the americas, or to have brought them into order. we are still daily aware what necessary comfort they bring us, and that they do sell their commodities a great deal cheaper than our own nation will do. but this comfort would be taken from us by those whose will would be a law unto us. however, we declare that we will never be so unthankful to the netherlanders for their former help and assistance as to deny or forbid them, or any other nation, the freedom of our harbors, and the protection of our laws, by which they may continue, if they please, all freedom of commerce with us. therefore, we declare that whereas we would not be wanting to use all honest means for obtaining a continuance of commerce, trade, and good correspondence with our country, so we will not alienate ourselves from those old heroic virtues of true englishmen, to prostitute our freedom and privileges, to which we are born, to the will and opinion of anyone; we can not think that there are any amongst us who are so simple, or so unworthily minded, that they would not rather choose a noble death, than forsake their liberties. the general assembly of barbados" _ sir edmond calvert studied the long scrolled document in the light of the swinging ship's lantern, stroking his goatee as he read and reread the bold ink script. "liberty" or "death." a memorable choice of words, though one he never recalled hearing before. would the actions of these planters be as heroic as their rhetoric? or could the part about a "noble death" be an oblique reference to king charles' bravery before the executioner's axe? it had impressed all england. but how could they have heard? the king had only just been beheaded, and word could scarcely have yet reached the barbados assembly. one thing was clear, however: barbados' assembly had rebelled against the commonwealth. it had rejected the authority of parliament and chosen to defy the navigation act passed by that body to assert england's economic control of its settlements in the new world. wearily he settled the paper onto the table and leaned back in his sea chair, passing his eyes around the timbered cabin and letting his gaze linger on a long painting of oliver cromwell hanging near the door. the visage had the intensity of a puritan zealot, with pasty cheeks, heavy- lidded eyes, and the short, ragged hair that had earned him and all his followers the sobriquet of "roundhead." he had finally executed the king. england belonged to cromwell and his puritan parliament now, every square inch. calvert glanced back at the declaration, now lying next to his sheathed sword and its wide shoulder strap. england might belong to parliament, he told himself, but the americas clearly didn't. the tone of the document revealed a stripe of independence, of courage he could not help admiring. and now, to appease cromwell, i've got to bludgeon them into submission. may god help me. the admiral of the fleet was a short stocky lincolnshire man, who wore the obligatory ensemble of england's new puritan leadership: black doublet with wide white collar and cuffs. a trim line of gray hair circled his bald pate, and his face was dominated by a heavy nose too large for his sagging cheeks. in the dull light of the lantern his thin goatee and moustache looked like a growth of pale foliage against his sallow skin. his father, george calvert, had once held office in the court of king charles, and for that reason he had himself, many years past, received a knighthood from the monarch. but edmond calvert had gone to sea early, had risen through merit, and had never supported the king. in fact, he was one of the few captains who kept his ship loyal to parliament when the navy defected to the side of charles during the war. in recognition of that, he had been given charge of transporting cromwell's army to ireland, to suppress the rebellion there, and he bore the unmistakably resigned air of a man weary of wars and fighting. the voyage out had been hard, for him as well as for the men, and already he longed to have its business over and done, to settle down to a table covered not with contentious proclamations but spilling over with rabbit pies, blood puddings, honeyed ham. alas, it would not soon be. not from the sound of the island's declaration. he lowered the wick of the lantern, darkening the shadows across the center table of the great cabin, and carefully rolled the document back into a scroll. then he rose and moved toward the shattered windows of the stern to catch a last look at the island before it was mantled in the quick tropical night. as he strode across the wide flooring-planks of the cabin, he carefully avoided the remaining shards of glass, mingled with gilded splinters, that lay strewn near the windows. since all able-bodied seamen were still needed to man the pumps and patch the hull along the waterline, he had prudently postponed the repairs of his own quarters. as he looked about the cabin, he reminded himself how lucky he was to have been on the quarterdeck, away from the flying splinters, when the shelling began. the first volley from the point had scored five direct hits along the portside. one english seaman had been killed outright, and eleven others wounded, some gravely. with time only for one answering round, he had exposed the rainbowe' s stern to a second volley from the breastwork on the point while bringing her about and making for open sea. that had slammed into the ship's gilded poop, destroying the ornate quartergallery just aft of the great cabin, together with all the leaded glass windows. the island was considerably better prepared than he had been led to believe. lord cromwell, he found himself thinking, will not be pleased when he learns of the wanton damage barbados' rebels have wreaked on the finest frigate in the english navy. through the ragged opening he could look out unobstructed onto the rising swells of the caribbean. a storm was brewing out to sea, to add to the political storm already underway on the island. high, dark thunderheads had risen up in the south, and already spatters of heavy tropical rain ricocheted off the shattered railing of the quartergallery. the very air seemed to almost drip with wetness. he inhaled deeply and asked himself again why he had agreed to come out to the americas. he might just as easily have retired his command and stayed home. he had earned the rest. edmond calvert had served the puritan side in the war faithfully for a decade, and over the past five years he had been at the forefront of the fighting. in reward he had been granted the command of the boldest english military campaign in history. oliver cromwell was nothing if not audacious. having executed the king, he had now conceived a grand assault on spain's lands in the new world. the plan was still secret, code named western design: its purpose, nothing less than the seizure of spain's richest holdings. barbados, with its new sugar wealth, would someday be merely a small part of england's new empire in the americas, envisioned by cromwell as reaching from massachusetts to mexico to brazil. but first, there was the small matter of bringing the existing settlements in the americas back into step. he had never been sure he had the stomach for the task. now, after realizing the difficulties that lay ahead in subduing this one small island, he questioned whether he wanted any part of it. he swabbed his brow, clammy in the sweltering heat, and wondered if all the islands of the caribbees were like this. doubtless as bad or worse, he told himself in dismay. he had seen and experienced barbados only for a day, but already he had concluded it was a place of fierce sun and half-tamed forest, hot and miserable, its very air almost a smoky green. there was little sign among the thatched-roof shacks along the shore of its reputed great wealth. could it be the stories at home were gross exaggerations? or deliberate lies? it scarcely mattered now. barbados had to be reclaimed. there was no option. on his left lay the green hills of the island, all but obscured in sudden sheets of rain; on his right the line of english warships he had ordered positioned about the perimeter of carlisle bay, cannons run out and primed. he had stationed them there, in readiness, at mid-morning. then, the siege set, he had summoned his vice admiral and the other commanders to a council on board the _rainbowe_. they had dined on the last remaining capons and drawn up the terms of surrender, to be sent ashore by longboat. the island was imprisoned and isolated. its capitulation, they told each other, was merely a matter of time. except that time would work against the fleet too, he reminded himself. half those aboard were landsmen, a thrown-together infantry assembled by cromwell, and the spaces below decks were already fetid, packed with men too sick and scurvy-ravished to stir. every day more bodies were consigned to the sea. if the island could not be made to surrender in a fortnight, two at most, he might have few men left with the strength to fight. the declaration told him he could forget his dream of an easy surrender. yet he didn't have the men and arms for a frontal assault. he knew it and he wondered how long it would take the islanders to suspect it as well. he had brought a force of some eight hundred men, but now half of them were sick and useless, while the island had a free population of over twenty thousand and a militia said to be nearly seven thousand. worst of all, they appeared to have first-rate gunners manning their shore emplacements. barbados could not be recovered by strength of arms; it could only be frightened, or lured, back into the hands of england. a knock sounded on the cabin door and he gruffly called permission to enter. moments later the shadow moving toward him became james powlett, the young vice admiral of the fleet. "your servant, sir." powlett removed his hat and brushed at its white plume as he strode gingerly through the cabin, picking his way around the glass. he was tall, clean-shaven, with hard blue eyes that never quite concealed his ambition. from the start he had made it no secret he judged edmond calvert too indecisive for the job at hand. "has the reply come yet? i heard the rebels sent out a longboat with a packet." "aye, they've replied. but i warrant the tune'll not be to your liking." calvert gestured toward the declaration on the table as he studied powlett, concerned how long he could restrain the vice admiral's hot blood with cool reason. "they've chosen to defy the rule of parliament. and they've denounced the navigation acts, claiming they refuse to halt their trade with the dutchmen." "then we've no course but to show them how royalist rebels are treated." "is that what you'd have us do?" the admiral turned back to the window and stared at the rain-swept bay. "and how many men do you think we could set ashore now? three hundred? four? that's all we'd be able to muster who're still strong enough to lift a musket or a pike. whilst the island's militia lies in wait for us--god knows how many thousand- men used to this miserable heat and likely plump as partridges." "whatever we can muster, i'll warrant it'll be enough. they're raw planters, not soldiers." powlett glanced at the declaration, and decided to read it later. there were two kinds of men in the world, he often asserted: those who dallied and discussed, and those who acted. "we should ready an operation for tomorrow morning and have done with letters and declarations. all we need do is stage a diversion here in the harbor, then set men ashore up the coast at jamestown." calvert tugged at his wisp of a goatee and wondered momentarily how he could most diplomatically advise powlett he was a hotheaded fool. then he decided to dispense with diplomacy. "those 'raw planters,' as you'd have them, managed to hole this flagship five times from their battery up there on the point. so what makes you think they couldn't just as readily turn back an invasion? and if they did, what then, sir?" he watched powlett's face harden, but he continued. "i can imagine no quicker way to jeopardize what little advantage we might have. and that advantage, sir, is they still don't know how weak we really are. we've got to conserve our strength, and try to organize our support on the island. we need to make contact with any here who'd support parliament, and have them join with us when we land." the question now, he thought ruefully, is how much support we actually have. sir edmond calvert, never having been convinced that beheading the lawful sovereign of england would be prudent, had opposed it from the start. events appeared to have shown him right. alive, king charles had been reviled the length of the land for his arrogance and his papist sympathies; dead, you'd think him a sovereign the equal of elizabeth, given the way people suddenly began eulogizing him, that very same day. his execution had made him a martyr. and if royalist sentiment was swelling in england, in the wake of his death, how much more might there be here in the americas--now flooded with refugees loyal to the monarchy. he watched his second-in-command slowly redden with anger as he continued, "i tell you we can only reclaim this island if it's divided. our job now, sir, is to reason first, and only then resort to arms. we have to make them see their interests lie with the future england can provide." "well, sir, if you'd choose that tack, then you can set it to the test quick enough. what about those men who've been swimming out to the ships all day, offering to be part of the invasion? i'd call that support." "aye, it gave me hope at first. then i talked with some of them, and learned they're mostly indentured servants. they claimed a rumor's going round the island that we're here to set them free. for all they care, we could as well be spaniards." calvert sighed. "i asked some of them about defenses on the island, and learned nothing i didn't already know. so i sent them back ashore, one and all. what we need now are fresh provisions, not more mouths to feed." that's the biggest question, he told himself again. who'll be starved out first: a blockaded island or a fleet of ships with scarcely enough victuals to last out another fortnight? he turned back to the table, reached for the declaration, and shoved it toward powlett. "i think you'd do well to peruse this, sir. there's a tone of defiance here that's unsettling. i don't know if it's genuine, or a bluff. it's the unknowns that trouble me now, the damned uncertainties." those uncertainties, he found himself thinking, went far beyond barbados. according to the first steps of cromwell's plan, after this centerpiece of the caribbees had been subdued, part of the fleet was to continue on to any other of the settlements that remained defiant. but cromwell's advisors felt that would probably not be necessary: after barbados acknowledged the commonwealth, the rest of the colonies were expected to follow suit. then the western design could be set into motion, with calvert's shipboard infantry augmented by fighting men from the island. the trouble with cromwell's scheme, he now realized, was that it worked both ways. if barbados succeeded in defying england's new government, then virginia, bermuda, the other islands of the caribbees, all might also disown the commonwealth. there even was talk they might try attaching themselves to holland. it would be the end of english taxes and trade anywhere in the americas except for that scrawny settlement of fanatic puritans up in "new england." there would surely be no hope for the western design to succeed, and edmond calvert would be remembered as the man who lost england's richest lands. while powlett studied the declaration, skepticism growing on his face, calvert turned back to the window and stared at the rainswept harbor, where a line of dutch merchant fluyts bobbed at anchor. good god. that's the answer. maybe we can't land infantry, but we most assuredly can go in and take those damned dutchmen and their cargo. they're bound to have provisions aboard. it's our best hope for keeping up the blockade. and taking them will serve another purpose, too. it'll send the commonwealth's message loud and clear to all holland's merchants: that trade in english settlements is for england. "there's presumption here, sir, that begs for a reply." the vice admiral tossed the declaration back onto the table. "i still say the fittest answer is with powder and shot. there's been enough paper sent ashore already." "i'm still in command, mr. powlett, whether you choose to approve or no. there'll be no more ordnance used till we're sure there's no other way." he walked back to the table and slumped wearily into his chair. already waiting in front of him were paper and an inkwell. what, he asked himself, would he write? how could he describe the bright new future that awaited a full partnership between england and these american settlers? the colonies in the caribbees and along the atlantic seaboard were merely england's first foothold in the new world. someday they would be part of a vast empire stretching the length of the americas. the holdings of spain would fall soon, and after that england would likely declare war against holland and take over dutch holdings as well. there was already talk of that in london. the future was rich and wide, and english. i just have to make them see the future. a future of partnership, not defiance; one that'll bring wealth to england and prosperity to her colonies. they have to be made to understand that this declaration is the first and last that'll ever be penned in the americas. he turned and dismissed powlett with a stiff nod. then he listened a moment longer to the drumbeat of tropical rain on the deck above. it sounded wild now, uncontrollable, just like the spirits of nature he sensed lurking above the brooding land mass off his portside bow. would this dark, lush island of the caribbees harken to reason? or would it foolishly choose to destroy itself with war? he sighed in frustration, inked his quill, and leaned forward to write. the assembly room was crowded to capacity, its dense, humid air rank with sweating bodies. above the roar of wind and rain against the shutters, arguments sounded the length of the long oak table. seated down one side and around the end were the twenty-two members of the assembly; across from them were the twelve members of the council. at the back of the room milled others who had been invited. winston was there, along with anthony walrond and katherine. dalby bedford was standing by the window, holding open the shutters and squinting through the rain-swept dusk as he studied the mast lights of the warships encircling the harbor. he wiped the rain and sweat from his face with a large handkerchief, then turned and walked back to his chair at the head of the table. "enough, gentlemen. we've all heard it already." he waved his hand for quiet. "let me try and sum up. our declaration has been delivered, which means we've formally rejected all their terms as they now stand. the question before us tonight is whether we try and see if there's room for negotiation, or whether we refuse a compromise and finish preparing to meet an invasion." katherine listened to the words and sensed his uneasiness. she knew what his real worries were: how long would it be before the awkward peace between the council and the assembly fell apart in squabbling? what terms could the admiral of the fleet offer that would split the island, giving enough of the planters an advantage that they would betray the rest? who would be the first to waver? the opening terms sent ashore by edmond calvert had sent a shock wave across barbados--its standing assembly and council were both to be dissolved immediately. in future, england's new world settlements would be governed through parliament. a powerless new council would be appointed from london, and the assembly, equally impotent, would eventually be filled by new elections scheduled at the pleasure of commons. added to that were the new "navigation acts," bringing high english prices and shipping fees. the suddenly ripening plum of the americas would be plucked. the terms, signed by the admiral, had been ferried ashore by longboat and delivered directly to dalby bedford at the compound. members of council and the assembly had already been gathering in the assembly room by then, anxious to hear the conditions read. katherine remembered the worry on the governor's face as he had finished dressing to go down and read the fleet's ultimatum. "the first thing i have to do is get them to agree on something, anything. if they start quarreling again, we're good as lost." "then try to avoid the question of recognizing parliament." she'd watched him search for his plumed hat and rose to fetch it from the corner stand by the door. "i suspect most of the council would be tempted to give in and do that, on the idea it might postpone a fight and give them time to finish this year's sugar while they appeal to parliament to soften the terms." "aye. the sugar's all they care about. that's why i think we best go at it backwards." he'd reached for his cane and tested it thoughtfully against the wide boards of the floor. "i think i'll start by raising that business in the navigation acts about not letting the dutchmen trade. not a man in the room'll agree to that, not even the council. i'll have them vote to reject those, then see if that'll bring us enough unity to proceed to the next step." just as he had predicted, the council and the assembly had voted unanimously to defy the new navigation acts. they could never endure an english stranglehold on island commerce, regardless of the other consequences. they had immediately drafted their own reply to the admiral's terms, a declaration denouncing them and refusing to comply, and sent it back to the fleet. the question left unresolved, to await this evening's session, was whether they should agree to negotiate with parliament at all. . . . "i say there's nothing to negotiate." benjamin briggs rose to his feet and faced the candle-lit room. "if we agreed to talk, it'd be the same as recognizing parliament." "are you saying the council's decided to oppose recognition?" bedford examined him in surprise. perhaps the business about dissolving the council had finally made an impression after all. "unalterably, sir. we've talked it over, and we're beginning to think this idea of independence that came up a while back could have some merit." briggs gazed around the room. "i'll grant i was of a different mind before we heard the terms. but now i say we stand firm. if we bow to the rule of parliament, where we've got no representation, we'll never be rid of these navigation acts. and that's the end of free trade, free markets. we'd as well be slaves ourselves." he pushed back his black hat, revealing a leathery brow furrowed by the strain. "i'll wager virginia will stand with us when their time comes. but the fleet's been sent here first, so for now we'll have to carry the burden of resistance ourselves, and so be it. speaking for the council, you know we've already ordered our militia out. they're to stay mustered till this thing's finished. we'd have the rest of the island's militia called up now, those men controlled by the assembly, and have them on the beaches by daybreak." dalby bedford looked down the line of faces and knew he had gained the first step. the council was with him. but now, he wondered suddenly, what about the assembly? as an interim measure, eight hundred men had already been posted along the western and southern shorelines, militia from the regiments commanded by the members of the council. the small freeholders had not yet mustered. many of the men with five-acre plots were already voicing reservations about entering an all-out war with england, especially when its main purpose seemed to be preserving free markets for the big plantation owners' sugar. "i think it's time we talked about cavalry." nicholas whittington joined in, wiping his beard as he lifted his voice above the din of wind and rain. "i'd say there's apt to be at least four hundred horses on the island that we could pull together." he glared pointedly across the table at the assemblymen, brown-faced men in tattered waistcoats. "that means every horse, in every parish. we have to make a show of force if we're to negotiate from strength. i propose we make an accounting, parish by parish. any man with a nag who fails to bring it up for muster should be hanged for treason." as she watched the members of the assembly start to mumble uneasily, katherine realized that a horse represented a sizable investment for most small freeholders. how much use would they be anyway, she found herself wondering. the horses on the island were mostly for pulling plows. and the "cavalry" riding them would be farmers with rusty pikes. as the arguing in the room continued, she found herself thinking about hugh winston. the sight of him firing down on the english navy through the mists of dawn had erased all her previous contempt. never before had she seen a man so resolute. she remembered again the way he had taken her arm, there at the last. why had he done it? she turned to study him, his lined face still smeared with oily traces of powder smoke, and told herself they were a matched pair. she had determination too. he'd soon realize that, even if he didn't now. at the moment he was deep in a private conference with johan ruyters, who had asked to be present to speak for dutch trading interests. the two of them had worked together all day, through the sultry heat that always preceded a storm. winston and his men had helped heave the heavy dutch guns onto makeshift barges and ferry them ashore, to be moved up the coast with ox-drawn wagons. now he looked bone tired. she could almost feel the ache he must have in his back. as she stood studying winston, her thoughts wandered again to anthony. he had worked all day too, riding along the shore and reviewing the militia deployed to defend key points along the coast. what was this sudden ambivalence she felt toward him? he was tall, like winston, and altogether quite handsome. more handsome by half than hugh winston, come to that. no, it was something about winston's manner that excited her more than anthony did. he was . . . yes, he was dangerous. she laughed to realize she could find that appealing. it violated all the common sense she'd so carefully cultivated over the years. again she found herself wondering what he'd be like as a lover. . . . "and, sir, what then? after we've offered up our horses and our muskets and servants for your militia?" one of the members of the assembly suddenly rose and faced the council. it was john russell, a tall, rawboned freeholder who held fifteen acres on the north side. "who's to protect our wives and families after that?" he paused nervously to clear his throat and peered down the table. "to be frank, gentlemen, we're beginning to grow fearful of all these africans that certain of you've bought and settled here now. with every white man on the island mustered and on the coast, together with all our horses and our muskets, we'll not have any way to defend our own if these new slaves decide to stage a revolt. and don't say it can't happen. remember that rising amongst the indentures two years ago. though we promptly hanged a dozen of the instigators and brought an end to it, we've taught no such lesson to these blacks. if they were to start something, say in the hills up in mid-island, we'd be hard pressed to stop them from slaughtering who they wished with those cane knives they use." he received supportive nods from several other assemblymen. "we'd be leaving ourselves defenseless if we mustered every able-bodied man and horse down onto the shore." "if that's all that's troubling you, then you can ease your minds." briggs pushed back his hat and smiled. "all the blacks've been confined to quarters, to the man, for the duration. besides, they're scattered over the island, so there's no way they can organize anything. there's no call for alarm, i give you my solemn word. they're unarmed now and docile as lambs." "but what about those cane knives we see them carrying in the fields?" "those have all been collected. the africans've got no weapons. there's nothing they can do save beat on drums, which seems to keep them occupied more and more lately, anyhow." he looked around the room, pleased to see that the reassuring tone in his voice was having the desired effect. "i think we'd best put our heads to more pressing matters, such as the condition of the breastworks here and along the coasts." he turned toward winston. "you've not had much to say tonight, sir, concerning today's work. i, for one, would welcome a word on the condition of our ordnance." all eyes at the table shifted to winston, now standing by the window and holding a shutter pried open to watch as the winds and rain bent the tops of the tall palms outside. slowly he turned, his lanky form seeming to lengthen, and surveyed the room. his eyes told katherine he was worried; she'd begun to know his moods. "the ordnance lent by the dutchmen is in place now." he thumbed at ruyters. "for which i'd say a round of thanks is overdue." "hear, hear." the planters' voices chorused, and ruyters nodded his acknowledgement. then he whispered something quickly to winston and disappeared out the door, into the rain. the seaman waited, watching him go, then continued, "you've got gunners--some my men and some yours--assigned now at the point, as well as at jamestown and over at oistins bay. i figure there's nowhere else they can try a landing in force . . . though they always might try slipping a few men ashore with longboats somewhere along the coast. that's why you've got to keep the militia out and ready." "but if they do try landing in some spot where we've got no cannon, what then, sir?" briggs' voice projected above the howl of the storm. "you've got ordnance in all the locations where they can safely put in with a frigate. any other spot would mean a slow, dangerous approach. but if they try it, your militia should be able to meet them at the water's edge and turn them back. that is, if you can keep your men mustered." he straightened his pistols and pulled his cloak about him. "now if it's all the same, i think i'll leave you to your deliberations. i've finished what it was i'd offered to do." "one moment. captain, if you please." anthony walrond stepped in front of him as the crowd began to part. "i think you've done considerably more than you proposed. unless it included basely betraying the island." winston stopped and looked at him. "i'm tired enough to let that pass." "are you indeed, sir?" walrond turned toward the table. "we haven't yet thanked captain winston for his other service, that being whilst he was making a show of helping deploy the dutchmen's ordnance, he ordered a good fifty of his new men, those irish indentures he's taken, to swim out to the ships of the fleet and offer their services to the roundheads." he turned to the room. "it was base treachery. and reason enough for a hempen collar . . . if more was required." "you, sir, can go straight to hell." winston turned and started pushing through the planters, angrily proceeding toward the door. katherine stared at him, disbelieving. before he could reach the exit, she elbowed her way through the crowd and confronted him. "is what he said true?" he pushed back his hair and looked down at her. "it's really not your concern. miss bedford." "then you've much to explain, if not to me, to the men in this room." "i didn't come down here tonight to start explaining." he gestured toward the door. "if you want to hear about it, then why not call in some of the men who swam out to the ships. they're back now and they're outside in the rain, or were. i'm sure they'll be pleased to confess the full details. i have no intention of responding to master walrond's inquisition." "then we most certainly will call them in." she pushed her way briskly to the doorway. outside a crowd of indentures stood huddled in the sheets of rain. timothy farrell, who had appointed himself leader, was by the door waiting for winston. the planters watched as katherine motioned him in. he stepped uncertainly through the doorway, bowing, and then he removed his straw hat deferentially. "can i be of service to yor ladyship?" "you can explain yourself, sir." she seized his arm and escorted him to the head of the table. "is it true captain winston ordered you and those men out there to swim out to the ships and offer to consort with their forces?" "we wasn't offerin' to consort, beggin' yor ladyship's pardon. not at all. that's not our inclination, as i'm a christian." farrell grinned. "no, by the holy virgin, what we did was offer to help them." he glanced toward winston, puzzling. "an' whilst they were mullin' that over, we got a good look below decks. an' like i reported to his worship, i'd say they've not got provision left to last more'n a fortnight. an' a good half the men sailin' with them are so rotted with scurvy they'd be pressed to carry a half-pike across this room. aye, between decks they're all cursin' the admiral an' sayin' he's brought 'em out here to starve in the middle o' this plagued, sun-cooked wilderness." she turned slowly toward winston. "you sent these men out as spies?" "who else were we going to send?" he started again toward the door. "well, you could have told us, sir." "so some of the puritan sympathizers on this island could have swum out after them and seen to it that my men were shot, or hanged from a yardarm. pox on it." "but this changes everything," briggs interjected, his face flooding with pleasure. "this man's saying the fleet's not got the force to try a landing." "you only believe half of what you hear." winston paused to look around the room. "even if it's true, it probably just means they'll have to attack sooner. before their supplies get lower and they lose even more men." he pushed on toward the door. "desperate men do desperate things. there'll be an attempt on the island, you can count on it. and you'll fight best if you're desperate too." suddenly he stopped again and glanced back at briggs. "by the way, i don't know exactly who your speech on the docile slaves was intended to fool. your africans just may have some plans afoot. i doubt they care overmuch who wins this war, you or cromwell. so look to it and good night." he turned and gestured for farrell to follow as he walked out into the blowing night rain. katherine watched him leave, recoiling once more against his insolence. or maybe admiring him for it. she moved quickly through the milling crowd to the side of dalby bedford, bent over and whispered something to him, then turned and slipped out the door. the burst of rain struck her in the face, and the wind blew her hair across her eyes. winston had already started off down the hill, the crowd of indentures trailing after. like puppy dogs, she found herself thinking. he certainly has a way with his men. she caught up her long skirts and pushed through the crowd, their straw hats and shoes now bedraggled by the downpour. "captain, i suppose we owe you an apology, and i've come to offer it." she finally reached his side. "no one else thought of having some men swim out to spy on the fleet." "katherine, no one else in there has thought of a lot of things. they're too busy arguing about who can spare a draft horse." "what do you mean?" she looked up. "thought of what?" "first, they should be off-loading what's left of the food and supplies on those dutch merchantmen blockaded in the bay. ruyters agreed just now to put his men on it tonight, but i'm afraid it's too late." he stared through the rain, toward the bay. "something tells me the fleet's likely to move in tomorrow and commandeer whatever ships they can get their hands on. it's exactly what any good commander would do." he continued bitterly. "there're enough supplies on those merchantmen, flour and dried corn, to feed the island for weeks. particularly on the ships that made port the last few days and haven't finished unlading. believe me, you're going to need it, unless you expect to start living on sugar cane and horsemeat. but this island's too busy fighting with itself right now to listen to anybody." he turned and headed on through the cluster of indentures. "i'm going down to try and off-load my own supplies tonight, before it's too late." she seized her skirts and pushed after him. "well, i still want to thank you . . . hugh. for what you've done for us." he met her gaze, smiled through the rain, and raised his hand to stop her. "wait a minute. before you go any further--and maybe say something foolish--you'd better know i'm not doing it for your little island of barbados." "but you're helping us fight to stay a free state. if we can stand up to the fleet, then we can secure home rule, the first in the americas. after us, maybe virginia will do the same. who knows, then some of the other settlements will probably . . ." "a free state?" he seemed to snort. "free for who? these greedy planters? nobody else here'll be free." he pulled his cloak tighter about him. "just so you'll understand, let me assure you i'm not fighting to help make barbados anything. i'm just trying to make sure i keep my frigate. besides, barbados'll never be 'free,' to use that word you seem to like so much. the most that'll ever happen here is it'll change masters. look around you. it's going to be a settlement of slaves and slaveholders forever, owned and squeezed by a council, or a parliament, or a king, or a somebody. from now on." "you're wrong." why did he try so hard to be infuriating? "home rule here is just a start. someday there'll be no more indentures, and who knows, maybe one day they'll even decide to let the slaves be free." she wanted to grab him and shake him, he was so shortsighted. "you just refuse to try and understand. isn't there anything you care about?" "i care about living life my own way. it may not sound like much of a cause, but it's taken me long enough to get around to it. i've given up thinking that one day i'll go back home and work for the honor of the winston name, or settle down and grow fat on some sugar plantation in the caribbees." he turned on her, almost shouting against the storm. "let me tell you something. i'm through living by somebody else's rules. right now i just want to get out. out to a place i'll make for myself. so if getting there means i first have to fight alongside the likes of briggs and walrond to escape barbados, then that's what it'll be. and when i fight, make no mistake, i don't plan to lose." "that's quite a speech. how long have you been practicing it?" she seized his arm. "and the point, i take it, is that you like to run away from difficulties?" "that's exactly right, and i wish you'd be good enough to have a brief word with the admiral of the fleet out there about it." he was smiling again, his face almost impish in the rain. "tell him there's a well- known american smuggler who'd be pleased to sail out of here if he'd just open up the blockade for an hour or so." "well, why not ask him yourself? he might be relieved, if only to be rid of you and your gunners." she waited till a roll of thunder died away. "and after you've sailed away? what then?" "i plan to make my own way. just as i said. i'm heading west by northwest, to maybe turn around a few things here in the caribbean. but right now i've got more pressing matters, namely keeping my provisions, and those of the dutchmen, out of the hands of the fleet." he turned and continued toward the shore, a dim expanse of sand shrouded in dark and rain. "so you'd best go on back to the assembly room, katherine, unless you plan to gather up those petticoats and lend me a hand." "perhaps i just will." she caught up with him, matching his stride. "what?" "since you think i'm so useless, you might be surprised to know i can carry tubs of hollander cheese as well as you can." she was holding her skirts out of the mud. "why shouldn't i? we both want the same thing, to starve the roundheads. we just want it for different reasons." "it's no place for a woman down here." "you said that to me once before. when we were going out to briggs' sugarworks. frankly i'm a little weary of hearing it, so why don't you find another excuse to try telling me what to do." he stopped and looked down again. waves of rain battered against the creases in his face. "all right, katherine. or katy, as i've heard your father call you. if you want to help, then come on. but you've got to get into some breeches if you don't want to drown." his dour expression melted into a smile. "i'll try and find you a pair on the _defiance_. it'll be a long night's work." "you can tell everyone i'm one of your seamen. or one of the indentures." he looked down at her bodice and exploded with laughter. "i don't think anybody's apt to mistake you for one of them. but hadn't you best tell somebody where you'll be?" "what i do is my own business." she looked past him, toward the shore. "so be it." a long fork of lightning burst across the sky, illuminating the shoreline ahead of them. the muddy road was leveling out now as they neared the bay. the ruts, which ran like tiny rapids down the hill, had become placid streams, curving their way seaward. ahead, the mast lanterns of the dutch merchantmen swayed arcs through the dark, and the silhouettes of dutch seamen milled along the shore, their voices muffled, ghostlike in the rain. then she noticed the squat form of johan ruyters trudging toward them. "pox on it, we can't unlade in this squall. and in the dark besides. there's doubtless a storm brewing out there, maybe even a _huracan_, from the looks of the swell." he paused to nod at katherine. "your servant, madam." then he turned back at winston. "there's little we can do now, on my honor." "well, i'll tell you one thing you can do, if you've got the brass." "and what might that be, sir?" "just run all the ships aground here along the shore. that way they can't be taken, and then we can unlade after the storm runs its course." "aye, that's a possibility i'd considered. in truth i'm thinking i might give it a try. the _zeelander's_ been aground before. her keel's fine oak, for all the barnacles." his voice was heavy with rue. "but i've asked around, and most of the other men don't want to run the risk." "well, you're right about the squall. from the looks of the sea, i'd agree we can't work in this weather. so maybe i'll just go ahead and run the _defiance _aground." he studied the ship, now rolling in the swell and straining at her anchor lines. "there'll never be a better time, with the bay up the way it is now." "god's blood, it's a quandary." ruyters turned and peered toward the horizon. the mast lights of the fleet were all but lost in the sheets of rain. "i wish i knew what those bastards are thinking right now. but it's odds they'll try to move in and pilfer our provisions as soon as the sea lets up. moreover, we'd be fools to try using any ordnance on them, bottled in the way we are. they've got us trapped, since they surely know the battery up there on the point won't open fire on the bay while we're in it." he whirled on winston. "you wouldn't, would you?" "and risk putting a round through the side of these ships here? not a chance!" "aye, they'll reason that out by tomorrow, no doubt. so grounding these frigates may be the only way we can keep them out of english hands. damn it all, i'd best go ahead and bring her up, before the seas get any worse." he bowed toward katherine. "your most obedient, madam. if you'll be good enough to grant me leave . . ." "now don't try anything foolish." winston was eyeing him. "what are you suggesting?" "don't go thinking you'll make a run for it in the storm. you'll never steer past the reefs." "aye. i've given that passing thought as well. if i had a bit more ballast, i'd be tempted." he spat into the rain, then looked back. "and i'd take odds you've considered the same." "but i've not got the ballast either. or that spaniard of yours we agreed on. don't forget our bargain." "my word's always been my bond, sir, though i wonder if there'll ever be any sugar to ship. for that matter, you may be lucky ever to see open seas again yourself. just like the rest of us." ruyters sighed. "aye, every christian here tonight's wishing he'd never heard of barbados." he nodded farewell and turned to wade toward a waiting longboat. in moments he had disappeared into the rain. "well, miss katy bedford, unless the rest of the dutchmen have the foresight ruyters has, those merchantmen out there and all their provisions will be in the fleet's hands by sundown tomorrow." he reached for her arm. "but not the _defiance_. come on and i'll get you a set of dry clothes. and maybe a tankard of sack to warm you up. we're about to go on a very short and very rough voyage." she watched as he walked to where the indentures were waiting. he seemed to be ordering them to find shelter and return in the morning. timothy farrell spoke something in return. winston paused a moment, shrugged and rummaged his pockets, then handed him a few coins. the irishmen all saluted before heading off toward the cluster of taverns over next to the bridge. "come on." he came trudging back. "the longboat's moored down here, if it hasn't been washed out to sea yet." "where're your men?" "my gunnery mates are at the batteries, and the rest of the lads are assigned to the militia. i ordered john and a few of the boys to stay on board to keep an eye on her, but the rest are gone." his face seemed drawn. "have no fear. in this sea it'll be no trick to ground her. once we weigh the anchor, the swell should do the rest." as he led her into the water, the surf splashing against her shins, she reflected that the salt would ruin her taffeta petticoats, then decided she didn't care. the thrill of the night and the sea were worth it. directly ahead of them a small longboat bobbed in the water. "grab your skirts, and i'll hoist you in." she had barely managed to seize the sides of her dress before a wave washed over them both. she was still sputtering, salt in her mouth, as he swept her up into his arms and settled her over the side. she gasped as the boat dipped crazily in the swell, pounded by the sheets of rain. he traced the mooring line back to the post at the shore where it had been tied and quickly loosened it. then he shoved the boat out to sea and rolled over the side, as easily as though he were dropping into a hammock. the winds lashed rain against them as he strained at the oars, but slowly they made way toward the dark bulk of the _defiance_. he rowed into the leeward side and in moments john mewes was there, reaching for the line to draw them alongside. he examined katherine with a puzzled expression as he gazed down at them. " 'tis quite a night, m'lady, by my life." he reached to take her hand as winston hoisted her up. "welcome aboard. no time for godfearin' folk to be at sea in a longboat, that i'll warrant." "that it's not, john." winston grasped a deadeye and drew himself over the side. "call the lads to station. after i take miss bedford back to the cabin and find a dry change of clothes for her, we're going to weigh anchor and try beaching the ship." "aye." mewes beamed as he squinted through the rain. "in truth, i've been thinkin' the same myself. the fomicatin' roundheads'll be in the bay and aimin' to take prizes soon as the weather breaks." he headed toward the quarterdeck. "but they'll never get this beauty, god is my witness." "try hoisting the spritsail, john, and see if you can bring the bow about." he took katherine's hand as he helped her duck under the shrouds. "this way, katy." "what do you have for me to wear?" she steadied herself against a railing as the slippery deck heaved in the waves, but winston urged her forward. he was still gripping her hand as he led her into the companionway, a dark hallway beneath the quarterdeck illuminated by a single lantern swaying in the gusts of wind. "we don't regularly sail with women in the crew." his words were almost lost in a clap of thunder as he shoved open the door of the great cabin. "what would you say to some of my breeches and a doublet?" "what would you say to it?" he laughed and swept the dripping hair out of his eyes as he ushered her in. "i'd say i prefer seeing women in dresses. but we'll both have to make do." he walked to his locker, seeming not to notice the roll of the ship, and flipped open the lid. "take your pick while i go topside." he gestured toward the sideboard. "and there's port and some tankards in there." "how'll i loosen my bodice?" "send for your maid, as always." there was a scream of wind down the companionway as he wrenched open the door, then slammed it again behind him. she was still grasping the table, trying to steady herself against the roll of the ship, when she heard muffled shouts from the decks above and then the rattle of a chain. she reached back and began to work at the knot in the long laces that secured her bodice. english fashions, which she found absurd in sweltering barbados, required all women of condition to wear this heavy corset, which laced all the way up the back, over their shift. this morning it had been two layers of whitest linen, with strips of whalebone sewn between and dainty puffed sleeves attached, but now it was soaked with salt water and brown from the sand and flotsam of the bay. she tugged and wriggled until it was loose enough to draw over her head. she drew a breath of relief as her breasts came free beneath her shift, and then she wadded the bodice into a soggy bundle and discarded it onto the floor of the cabin. her wet shift still clung to her and she looked down for a moment, taking pleasure in the full curve of her body. next she began unpinning her skirt at the spot where it had been looped up stylishly to display her petticoat. the ship rolled again and the lid of the locker dropped shut. as the floor tilted back to an even keel, she quickly stepped out of the soaking dress and petticoats, letting them collapse onto the planking in a dripping heap. in the light of the swinging lamp the once-blue taffeta looked a muddy gray. the ship suddenly pitched backward, followed by a low groan that sounded through the timbers as it shuddered to a dead stop. the floor of the cabin lay at a tilt, sloping down toward the stern. she stepped to the locker and pried the lid back open. inside were several changes of canvas breeches, as well as a fine striped silk pair. she laughed as she pulled them out to inspect them in the flickering light. what would he say if i were to put these on, she wondered? they're doubtless part of his vain pride. without hesitating she shook out the legs and drew them on under her wet shift. there was no mirror, but as she tied the waiststring she felt their sensuous snugness about her thighs. the legs were short, intended to fit into hose or boots, and they revealed her fine turn of ankle. next she lifted out a velvet doublet, blue and embroidered, with gold buttons down the front. she admired it a moment, mildly surprised that he would own such a fine garment, then laid it on the table while she pulled her dripping shift over her head. the rush of air against her skin made her suddenly aware how hot and sultry the cabin really was. impulsively she walked back to the windows aft and unlatched them. outside the sea churned and pounded against the stern, while dark rain still beat against the quartergallery. she took a deep breath as she felt the cooling breeze wash over her clammy face and breasts. she was wondering how her hair must look when she heard a voice. "you forgot your port." she gasped quietly as she turned. hugh winston was standing beside her, holding out a tankard. "well, do you care to take it?" he smiled and glanced down at her breasts. "my, but that was no time at all." she reached for the tankard, then looked back toward the table where her wet shift lay. "grounding a ship's no trick. you just weigh the anchor and pray she comes about. getting her afloat again's the difficulty." he leaned against the window frame and lifted his tankard. "so here's to freedom again someday, katy. mine, yours." she started to drink, then remembered herself and turned toward the table to retrieve her shift. "i don't expect you'll be needing that." she continued purposefully across the cabin. "well, sir, i didn't expect . . ." "oh, don't start now being a coquette. i like you too much the way you are." a stroke of lightning split down the sky behind him. he drank again, then set down his tankard and was moving toward her. "i'm not sure i know what you mean." "take it as a compliment. i despise intriguing women." he seemed to look through her. "though you do always manage to get whatever you're after, one way or other, going about it your own way." a clap of thunder sounded through the open stern windows. "i'd also wager you've had your share of experience in certain personal matters. for which i suppose there's your royalist gallant to thank." "that's scarcely your concern, is it? you've no claim over me." she settled her tankard on the table, reached for his velvet doublet--at least it was dry--and started draping it over her bare shoulders. "nor am i sure i relish bluntness as much as you appear to." "it's my fashion. i've been out in the caribbees too long, dodging musket balls, to bother with a lot of fancy court chatter." "there's bluntness, and there's good breeding. i trust you at least haven't forgotten the difference." "i suppose you think you can enlighten me." "well, since i'm wearing your breeches, which appear meant for a gentleman, perhaps it'd not be amiss to teach you how to address a lady." she stepped next to him, her eyes mischievous. "try repeating after me. 'yours is a comely shape, madam, on my life, that delights my very heart. and your fine visage might shame a cherubim.'" she suppressed a smile at his dumbfounded look, then continued. "'those eyes fire my thoughts with promised sweetness, and those lips are like petals of the rose . . .' " "god's blood!" he caught her open doublet and drew her toward him. "if it's a fop you'd have me be, i suppose the rest could probably go something like '. . . begging to be kissed. they seem fine and soft. are they kind as well?'" he slipped his arms about her and pulled her against his wet jerkin. after the first shock, she realized he tasted of salt and gunpowder. as a sudden gust of rain from the window extinguished the sea lamp, she felt herself being slowly lowered against the heavy oak table in the center of the cabin. now his mouth had moved to her breasts, as he half-kissed, half-bit her nipples--whether in desire or merely to tease she could not tell. finally she reached and drew his face up to hers. "i'm not in love with you, captain winston. never expect that. i could never give any man that power over me." she laughed at his startled eyes. "but i wouldn't mind if you wanted me." "katy, i've wanted you for a fortnight." he drew back and looked at her. "i had half a mind not to let you away from this ship the last time you were here. this time i don't plan to make the same mistake. except i don't like seeing you in my own silk breeches." "i think they fit me very nicely." "maybe it's time i showed you what i think." he abruptly drew her up and seized the string at her waist. in a single motion, he pulled it open and slipped away the striped legs. then he admired her a moment as he drew his hands appreciatively down her long legs. "now i'd like to show you how one man who's forgot his london manners pays court to a woman." he pulled her to him and kissed her once more. then without a word he slipped his arms under her and cradled her against him. he carried her across the cabin to the window, and gently seated her on its sill. now the lightning flashed again, shining against the scar on his cheek. he lifted her legs and twined them around his shoulders, bringing her against his mouth. a glow of sensation blossomed somewhere within her as he began to tease her gently with his tongue. she tightened her thighs around him, astonished at the swell of pleasure. the cabin was dissolving, leaving nothing but a great, consuming sensation that was engulfing her, readying to flood her body. as she arched expectantly against him, he suddenly paused. "don't stop now . . ." she gazed at him, her vision blurred. he smiled as he drew back. "if you want lovemaking from me, you'll have to think of somebody besides yourself. i want you to be with me, katy bedford. not ahead." he rose up and slipped away his jerkin. then his rough, wet breeches. he toyed with her sex, bringing her wide in readiness, then he entered her quickly and forcefully. she heard a gasp, and realized it was her own voice. it was as though she had suddenly discovered some missing part of herself. for an instant nothing else in the world existed. she clasped her legs about his waist and moved against him, returning his own intensity. now the sensation was coming once more, and she clung to him as she wrenched against his thighs. all at once he shoved against her powerfully, then again, and she found herself wanting to thrust her body into his, merge with him, as he lunged against her one last time. then the lightning flared and the cabin seemed to melt into white. after a moment of quiet, he wordlessly took her in his arms. for the first time she noticed the rain and the salt spray from the window washing over them. "god knows the last thing i need now is a woman to think about." he smiled and kissed her. "i'd probably be wise to pitch you out to sea this minute, while i still have enough sense to do it. but i don't think i will." "i wouldn't let you anyway. i'm not going to let you so much as move. you can just stay precisely where you are." she gripped him tighter and pulled his lips down to hers. "if anything, i should have done with you, here and now." "then come on. we'll go outside together." he lifted her through the open stern window, onto the quartergallery. the skies were an open flood. she looked at him and reached to gently caress his scarred cheek. "what was that you were doing--at the first? i never knew men did such things." her hand traveled across his chest, downward. "do . . . do women ever do that too?" he laughed. "it's not entirely unheard of in this day and age." "then you must show me how. i'll wager no puritan wife does it." "i didn't know you were a puritan. you certainly don't make love like one." "i'm not. i want to be as far from them as i can be." her lips began to move down his chest. "then come away with me." he smoothed her wet hair. "to jamaica." "jamaica?" she looked up at him in dismay. "my god, what are you saying? the spaniards . . ." "i'll manage the spaniards." he reached down and kissed her again. "you know, after this morning, up on the point, i'd almost believe you." she paused and looked out at the line of warships on the horizon, dull shadows in the rain. "but nobody's going to leave here for a long time now." "i will. and the english navy's not going to stop me." he slipped his arms around her and drew her against him. "why not forget you're supposed to wed anthony walrond and come along? we're alike, you and me." "hugh, you know i can't leave." she slid a leg over him and pressed her thigh against his. "but at least i've got you here tonight. i think i already fancy this. so let's not squander all our fine time with a lot of talk." chapter nine "i've changed my mind. i'll not be part of it." serina pulled at his arm and realized she was shouting to make herself heard above the torrent around them. in the west the lightning flared again. "take me back. now." directly ahead the wide thatched roof of the mill house loomed out of the darkness. atiba seemed not to hear as he circled his arm about her waist and urged her forward. a sheet of rain off the building's eaves masked the doorway, and he drew her against him to cover her head as they passed through. inside, the packed earthen floor was sheltered and dry. the warmth of the room caused her misgivings to ebb momentarily; the close darkness was like a protective cloak, shielding them from the storm. still, the thought of what lay ahead filled her with dread. the jesuit teachers years ago in brazil had warned you could lose your soul by joining in pagan african rituals. though she didn't believe in the jesuits' religion, she still feared their warning. she had never been part of a true yoruba ceremony for the gods; she had only heard them described, and that so long ago she had forgotten almost everything. when atiba appeared at her window, a dark figure in the storm, and told her she must come with him, she had at first refused outright. in reply he had laughed lightly, kissed her, then whispered it was essential that she be present. he did not say why; instead he went on to declare that tonight was the perfect time. no cane was being crushed; the mill house was empty, the oxen in their stalls, the entire plantation staff ordered to quarters. benjamin briggs and the other _branco _masters were assembled in bridgetown, holding a council of war against the ingles ships that had appeared in the bay at sunrise. when finally she'd relented and agreed to come, he had insisted she put on a white shift--the whitest she had--saying in a voice she scarcely recognized that tonight she must take special care with everything. tonight she must be yoruba. "surely you're not afraid of lightning and thunder?" he finally spoke as he gestured for her to sit, the false lightness still in his tone. "don't be. it could be a sign from shango, that he is with us. tonight the heavens belong to him." he turned and pointed toward the mill. "just as in this room, near this powerful iron machine of the _branco_, the earth is sacred to ogun. that's why he will come tonight if we prepare a place for him." she looked blankly at the mill. although the rollers were brass, the rest of the heavy framework was indeed iron, the metal consecrated to ogun. she remembered atiba telling her that when a yoruba swore an oath in the great palace of the oba in ife, he placed his hand not on a bible but on a huge piece of iron, shaped like a tear and weighing over three hundred pounds. the very existence of yorubaland was ensured by iron. ogun's metal made possible swords, tipped arrows, muskets. if no iron were readily at hand, a yoruba would swear by the earth itself, from whence came ore. "i wish you would leave your yoruba gods in africa, where they belong." how, she asked herself, could she have succumbed so readily to his preto delusions? she realized now that the yoruba were still too few, too powerless to revolt. she wanted to tell him to forget his gods, his fool's dream of rebellion and freedom. he glanced back at her and laughed. "but our gods, our orisa, are already here, because our people are here." he looked away, his eyes hidden in the dark, and waited for a roll of thunder to die away. the wind dropped suddenly, for an instant, and there was silence except for the drumbeat of rain. "our gods live inside us, passed down from generation to generation. we inherit the spirit of our fathers, just as we take on their strength, their appearance. whether we are free or slave, they will never abandon us." he touched her hand gently. "tonight, at last, perhaps you will begin to understand." she stared at him, relieved that the darkness hid the disbelief in her eyes. she had never seen any god, anywhere, nor had anyone else. his gods were not going to make him, or her, any less a slave to the _branco_. she wanted to grab his broad shoulders and shake sense into him. tonight was the first, maybe the last, time that briggs hall would be theirs alone. why had he brought her here instead, for some bizarre ceremony? finally her frustration spilled out. "what if i told you i don't truly believe in your ogun and your shango and all the rest? any more than i believe in the christian god and all his saints?" he lifted her face up. "but what if you experienced them yourself? could you still deny they exist?" "the christians claim their god created everything in the world." again the anger flooding over her, like the rain outside. she wanted to taunt him. "if that's true, maybe he created your gods too." "the christian god is nothing. where is he? where does he show himself? our orisa create the world anew every day, rework it, change it, right before our eyes. that's how we know they are alive." his gaze softened. "you'll believe in our gods before tonight is over, i promise you." "how can you be so sure?" "because one of them is already living inside you. i know the signs." he stood back and examined her. "i think you are consecrated to a certain god very much like you, which is as it should be." he reached down and picked up a cloth sack he had brought. as the lightning continued to flare through the open doorway, he began to extract several long white candles. finally he selected one and held it up, then with an angry grunt pointed to the black rings painted around it at one-inch intervals. "do you recognize this? it's what the _branco _call a 'bidding candle.' did you know they used candles like this on the ship? they sold a man each time the candle burned down to one of these rings. i wanted ogun to see this tonight." he struck a flint against a tinderbox, then lit the candle, shielding it from the wind till the wick was fully ablaze. next he turned and stationed it on the floor near the base of the mill, where it would be protected from the gale. she watched the tip flicker in the wind, throwing a pattern of light and shadow across his long cheek, highlighting the three small parallel scars. his eyes glistened in concentration as he dropped to his knees and retrieved a small bag from his waistband. he opened it, dipped in his hand, and brought out a fistful of white powder; then he moved to a smooth place on the floor and began to dribble the powder out of his fist, creating a series of curved patterns on the ground. "what are you doing?" "i'm preparing the symbol of ogun." "will drawings in the dirt lure your god?" he did not look up, merely continued to lay down the lines of white powder, letting a stream slip from his closed fist. "take care what you say. i am consecrating this earth to ogun. a yoruba god will not be mocked. i have seen hunters return from an entire season in the forest empty-handed because they scorned to make offerings." "i don't understand. the christians say their god is in the sky. where are these gods of africa supposed to be?" she was trying vainly to recall the stories her mother dara and the old _babalawo _of pernambuco had told. but there was so much, especially the part about africa, that she had willed herself to forget. "first you claim they are already inside you, and then you say they must come here from somewhere." "both things are true. the orisa are in some ways like ordinary men and women." he paused and looked up. "just as we are different, each of them is also. shango desires justice--though wrongs must be fairly punished, he is humane. ogun cares nothing for fairness. he demands vengeance." "how do you know what these gods are supposed to want? you don't have any sacred books like the christians. . . ." "perhaps the christians need their books. we don't. our gods are not something we study, they're what we are." "then why call them gods?" "because they are a part of us we cannot reach except through them. they dwell deep inside our selves, in the spirit that all the yoruba peoples share." he looked down and continued to lay out the drawing as he spoke. "but i can't describe it, because it lies in a part of the mind that has no words." he reached to take more of the white powder from the bag and shifted to a new position as he continued to fashion the diagram, which seemed to be the outline of some kind of bush. "you see, except for olorun, the sky god, all our orisa once dwelt on earth, but instead of dying they became the communal memory of our people. when we call forth one of the gods, we reach into this shared consciousness where they wait. if a god comes forth, he may for a time take over the body of one of us as his temporary habitation." he paused and looked up. "that's why i wanted you here tonight. to show you what it means to be yoruba." he straightened and critically surveyed the drawing. his eyes revealed his satisfaction. on the ground was a complex rendering of an african cotton tree, the representing-image of ogun. its trunk was flanked on each side by the outline of an elephant tusk, another symbol of the yoruba god. he circled it for a moment, appraising it, then went to the cache of sacred utensils he had hidden behind the mill that afternoon and took up a stack of palm fronds. carefully he laid a row along each side of the diagram. "that's finished now. next i'll make the symbol for shango. it's simpler." he knelt and quickly began to lay down the outline of a double-headed axe, still using the white powder from the bag. the lines were steady, flawless. she loved the lithe, deft intensity of his body as he drew his sacred signs--nothing like the grudging branco artists who had decorated the cathedral in pernambuco with catholic saints, all the while half-drunk on portuguese wine. "where did you learn all these figures?" he smiled. "i've had much practice, but i was first taught by my father, years ago in ife." the drawing was already done. he examined it a moment, approved it, and laid aside the bag of white powder. she picked it up and took a pinch to her lips. it had the tangy bitterness of cassava flour. "now i'll prepare a candle for shango." he rummaged through the pile. "but in a way it's for you too, so i'll find a pure white one, not a bidding candle." "what do you mean, 'for me too'?" he seemed not to hear as he lit the taper and placed it beside the symbol. next he extracted a white kerchief from his waistband and turned to her. "i've brought something for you. a gift. here, let me tie it." he paused to caress her, his fingertips against her cinnamon skin, then he lovingly pulled the kerchief around her head. he lifted up her long hair, still wet from the rain, and carefully coiled it under the white cloth. finally he knotted it on top, african style. "tonight you may discover you truly are a yoruba woman, so it is well that you look like one." abruptly, above the patter of rain, came the sound of footfalls in the mud outside. she glanced around and through the dark saw the silhouettes of the yoruba men from the slave quarters. the first three carried long bundles swathed in heavy brown wraps to protect them from the rain. they entered single file and nodded in silence to atiba before gathering around the diagrams on the floor to bow in reverence. after a moment, the men carrying the bundles moved to a clear space beside the mill and began to unwrap them. as the covering fell away, the fresh goatskin tops of three new drums sparkled white in the candlelight. she watched the drummers settle into position, each nestling an instrument beneath his left arm, a curved wooden mallet in his right hand. from somewhere in her past there rose up an identical scene, years ago in brazil, when all the yoruba, men and women, had gathered to dance. then as now there were three hourglass-shaped instruments, all held horizontally under the drummer's arm as they were played. the largest, the _iya ilu_, was almost three feet long and was held up by a wide shoulder strap, just as this one was tonight. the other two, the _bata _and the _go-go_, were progressively smaller, and neither was heavy enough to require a supporting strap. the man holding the _iya ilu_ tonight was obewole, his weathered coffee face rendered darker still by the contrast of a short grey beard. his muscles were conditioned by decades of swinging a long iron sword; in the fields he could wield a cane machete as powerfully as any young warrior. he shifted the shoulder strap one last time, then held out the mallet in readiness and looked toward atiba for a signal to begin. when atiba gave a nod, a powerful drum roll sounded above the roar of the gale. then obewole began to talk with the drum, a deep-toned invocation to the ceremonial high gods of the yoruba pantheon, eleggua and olorun. "_omi tutu a eleggua, omi tutu a mi ileis, olorun modu-pue ..."_ as the drum spoke directly to the gods, the line of men passed by atiba and he sprinkled each with liquor from a calabash, flinging droplets from his fingertips like shooting stars in the candlelight. each man saluted him, their _babalawo_, by dropping their heads to the ground in front of him while balanced on their fists, then swinging their bodies right and left, touching each side to the floor in the traditional yoruba obeisance. the office of _babalawo _embodied all the struggles, the triumphs, the pride of their race. when the last man had paid tribute, all three drums suddenly exploded with a powerful rhythm that poured out into the night and the storm. obewole's mallet resounded against the skin of the large _iya ilu_, producing a deep, measured cadence--three strokes, then rest, repeated again and again hypnotically--almost as though he were knocking on the portals of the unseen. next to him the men holding the two smaller drums interjected syncopated clicks between the _iya ilu's _throaty booms. the medley of tempos they blended together was driving, insistent. as the sound swelled in intensity, the men began to circle the drawing for ogun, ponderously shuffling from one foot to the other in time with the beat. it was more than a walk, less than a dance. atiba began to clang together two pieces of iron he had brought, their ring a call to ogun. the men trudged past him, single file, the soles of their feet never leaving the earth. using this ritual walk, they seemed to be reaching out for some mighty heart of nature, through the force of their collective strength. they had come tonight as individuals; now they were being melded into a single organic whole by the beat of the _iya ilu_, their spirits unified. some of them nodded to obewole as they passed, a homage to his mastery, but he no longer appeared to see them. instead he gazed into the distance, his face a mask, and methodically pounded the taut goatskin with ever increasing intensity. "_ogun cyuba bai ye baye tonu_ . . ." suddenly a chant rose up through the dense air, led by the young warrior derin, who had devoted his life to ogun. his cropped hair emphasized the strong line of his cheeks and his long, powerful neck. as he moved, now raising one shoulder then the other in time with the drums, his body began to glisten with sweat in the humid night air. all the while, atiba stood beside the mill, still keeping time with the pieces of iron. he nodded in silent approval as the men in the line began to revolve, their bare feet now slapping against the packed earth, arms working as though they held a bellows. this was the ritual call for ogun, warrior and iron worker. as they whirled past the design on the floor, each man bent low, chanting, imploring ogun to appear. while the sound soared around them, the dance went on and on, and the atmosphere of the mill house became tense with expectation. suddenly derin spun away, separating himself from the line, his eyes acquiring a faraway, vacant gaze. as he passed by the musicians, the drumming swelled perceptibly, and serina sensed a presence rising up in the room, intense and fearsome. without warning, the clanging of iron stopped and she felt a powerful hand seize hers. "ogun is almost here." atiba was pointing toward derin, his voice a hoarse whisper. "can you sense his spirit emerging? soon he may try to mount derin." she studied the dancers, puzzling. "what do you mean, 'mount' him?" "the orisa can mount our mind and body, almost like a rider mounts a horse. ogun wants to displace derin's spirit and become the force that rules him. but derin's self must first leave before ogun can enter, since it's not possible to be both man and god at once. his own spirit is trying to resist, to ward off the god. sometimes it can be terrifying to watch." he studied the men a few moments in silence. "yes, derin's body will be the one honored tonight. he's the youngest and strongest here; it's only natural that ogun would choose him. don't be surprised now by what you see. and dara"--his voice grew stern--"you must not try to help him, no matter what may happen." at that instant the young warrior's left leg seemed to freeze to the ground, and he pitched forward, forfeiting his centering and balance. he began to tremble convulsively, his eyes terror-stricken and unfocused, his body reeling from a progression of unseen blows against the back of his neck. he was still trying to sustain the ritual cadence as he pitched backward against the mill. now the drums grew louder, more forceful, and his entire body seemed to flinch with each stroke of obewole's mallet. his eyes rolled back into his head, showing only a crescent of each pupil, while his arms flailed as though trying to push away some invisible net that had encircled his shoulders. he staggered across the floor, a long gash in his shoulder where the teeth of the mill had ripped the flesh, and began to emit barking cries, almost screams, as he struggled to regain his balance. "you've got to stop it!" she started pulling herself to her feet. but before she could rise, atiba seized her wrist and silently forced her down. none of the other men appeared to take notice of derin's convulsions. several were, in fact, themselves now beginning to stumble and lose their balance. but they all continued the solemn dance, as though determined to resist the force wanting to seize their bodies. at that moment the measured booms of the large iya hu drum switched to a rapid, syncopated beat, a knowing trick by obewole intended to throw the dancers off their centering. the sudden shift in drumming caused derin to lose the last of his control. he staggered toward the drummers, shouted something blindly, then stiffened and revolved to face atiba. his eyes were vacant but his sweat-drenched body had as sumed a mystical calm. he stood silent for a moment, glared fiercely about the mill house, then reached for the long iron machete atiba was holding out for him. "_obi meye lori emo ofe _. . ." he was intoning in a deep, powerful voice, declaring he would now reveal who he was. "_ogun_!" he abruptly brandished the machete about his head and with a leap landed astride the diagram atiba had traced in the dirt. the other men hovered back to watch as he launched a violent dance, slashing the air with the blade while intoning a singsong chant in a voice that seemed to emanate from another world. the drums were silent now, as all present knelt to him, even those older and more senior. derin the man was no longer present; his body belonged to the god, and his absent eyes burned with a fierceness and determination serina had never before seen. she gripped atiba's hand, feeling her fingers tremble. now, more than ever, she was terrified. the pounding of rain on the roof seemed almost to beckon her out, into the night, away from all this. but then she began to understand that the men around her were no longer slaves, in the mill room of a plantation in the english caribbees; they were yoruba warriors, invoking the gods of their dark land. now derin was finishing the ritual chant that proclaimed him the earthly manifestation of ogun. the words had scarcely died away when atiba stepped forward and demanded he speak to the men, offer them guidance for the days ahead. when derin merely stood staring at him with his distant eyes, atiba grabbed him and shook him. finally, above the sound of wind and rain, derin began to shout a series of curt phrases. his voice came so rapidly, and with such unearthly force, serina found she could not follow. "what is he saying?" she gripped atiba's hand tighter. "ogun demands we must right the wrongs that have been set upon us. that we must use our swords to regain our freedom and our pride. he declares tonight that his anger is fierce, like the burning sun that sucks dry the milk of the coconut, and he will stand with us in the name of vengeance. that victory will be ours, but only if we are willing to fight to the death, as worthy warriors." atiba stopped to listen as derin continued to intone in a deep chilling voice. when he had concluded his declaration, he abruptly turned and approached serina. he stood before her for a moment, then reached out with his left hand and seized her shoulder, tearing her white shift. she gasped at the tingle in her arm, realizing his fingers were cold and hard as iron. his eyes seemed those of a being who saw beyond the visible, into some other world. she wanted to pull away, but his gaze held her transfixed. "send this one back where she belongs, to the compounds of your wives. yoruba warriors do not hold council with women. she . . . will lead you . . . to . . ." the voice seemed to be receding back into derin's body now, to be calling from some faraway place. suddenly he leaped backward, circled the machete about his head, and with a powerful stroke thrust it into the earth, buried halfway to the hilt. he stared down for a moment in confusion, as though incredulous at what he had just done, then tremulously touched the dark wooden handle. finally he seized his face in his hands, staggered backward, and collapsed. atiba sprang to catch him as he sprawled across the remains of the trampled palm fronds. several other men came forward, their eyes anxious. "ogun has honored us tonight with his presence." he looked about the dark room, and all the men nodded in silent agreement. at that moment a long trunk of lightning illuminated the open doorway, followed by a crack of thunder that shook the pole supporting the thatched roof. serina felt a chill sweep against her forehead. "that is the voice of shango. he too demands to be heard. we must continue." atiba turned to serina. "even though it displeases ogun, your presence here tonight is essential. you were once consecrated to shango. perhaps you were never told. but you are yoruba. your lineage is sacred to him." "how do you know?" she felt the chill in the room deepening. "shango animates your spirit. as a _babalawo _i can tell. it must have been divined the day you were born and sanctified by a ceremony to olorun, the high god. there are signs, but i must not reveal to you what they are." "no! i won't have any part of this. it's pagan, terrifying." she wrapped her arms about her, shivering from the cold. "i only came here to please you. i'll watch. but that's all." atiba motioned to the drummers. "but shango will not be denied. you have nothing to fear. most of his fire tonight is being spent in the skies." the drums began again, their cadence subtly changed from before. the lightning flashed once more, closer now, as he urged her toward the dancers. "we must know the will of shango, but we are all men of ogun. shango would never come and mount one of us. he will only come to you, his consecrated." as the line of men encircled her and pushed her forward, into the crowd of half-naked bodies sweating in the candlelight, atiba's face disappeared in the tumult of heaving chests and arms. she tried to yell back to him, to tell him she would never comply, but her voice was lost in the drumming and the roar of the rain. she was moving now with the line of men. before she realized what she was doing, she had caught the hem of her swaying white shift and begun to swing it from side to side in time with the booms of the _iya ilu_ drum. it was a dance figure she remembered from some lost age, a joyous time long ago. she would dance for her love of atiba, but not for his gods. now the rhythm of the drums grew more dizzying, as though pulling her forward. it was increasingly hard to think; only through the dance could she keep control, stay centered on her own self. only by this arcing of her body, as the movement of her hips flowed into her swaying torso, could she . . . suddenly she saw herself, in pernambuco, being urged gently forward by her yoruba mother as the slaves drummed in the cool evening air. it was sunday, and all the _preto _had gathered to dance, the black women in ornate portuguese frocks of bright primary colors and the men in tight- fitting trousers. the drums were sounding and the plantation air was scented by a spray of white blossoms that drifted down from the spreading tree. the senhor de engenho was there, the white master, clapping and leering and calling something to dara about her_ mulata _daughter's new frock. he was watching her now, waiting. soon, very soon, he would take her. lightning flashed again, and she felt its warmth against her icy skin. she wanted to laugh, to cry, to stay in that world of faraway whose warmth beckoned. but now she felt her own will beginning to ebb. something was happening. . . . "no! please, no!" she forced her long fingernails into her palm, and the pain seemed to restore some of the awareness she had felt slipping from her. desperately she tore herself away from the dance and seized the center post of the mill, gasping for air and digging her nails into the wood until she felt one snap. then she pulled away the african kerchief and threw back her head, swirling her hair about her face till it caught in her mouth. all at once she was thirsty, hungry, yearning for a dark presence that hovered over her body like a lover. again the blossoms of pernambuco drifted down, tiny points of fire as they settled against her face, and she began to hum a simple portuguese song she had known as a child. it was spring in brazil, and as she looked up she saw the face of the old yoruba _babalawo_. "dara, come." he was reaching toward her, beckoning her away from the portuguese master, saying something about shango she did not understand, and the sight of his sad eyes and high black cheeks filled her with love. but now there was a youthfulness in his face, as though he were here and powerful and young. her old _babalawo _had come back: there was the same glistening black skin, the same three face- marks cut down his cheek, the powerful eyes she had somehow forgotten over the years. she gasped as he pulled her back into the circle of dancers. he was atiba. his clan-marks were atiba's. and so was his voice . . . lightning illuminated the doorway and its whiteness washed over her, bleaching away the mill, the moving bodies, the face of atiba. as she stumbled back among the dancers, her mind seemed to be thinning, turning to pale mist, merging with the rain. ' _'boguo yguoro ache semilenu shango_ . . ." the men were moving beside her now, intoning their singsong chant. she suddenly recalled the long-forgotten yoruba verses and wanted to join in, but the words floated away. she was no longer part of the men in the room; she was distant, observing from some other world. instead of the sweating bodies, there was the fragrance of frangipani and the faces of _preto_ slaves on the pernambuco plantation as they gathered around at the moment of her birth to praise her light skin. dara's warm, nourishing breast was against her lips, and the world was bright and new. she gasped for breath, but the air was wet, oppressive. its heaviness was descending over her, then her left leg seemed to catch in a vise, as though it belonged to the deep earth. she wrenched her body to look down, and felt a crack of thunder pound against her back. the world was drifting up through her, drowning her in white. . . . . . . she is floating, borne by the drums, while a weight has settled against her back, a stifling weariness that insists the dance must stop. yet some power propels her on, swirls about her, forces her forward. she senses the touch of wet skin as she falls against one of the dancers, but no hands reach out to help. only the drums keep her alive. but they too are fading, leaving her, as the world starts to move in slow motion. a white void has replaced her mind. her breath comes in short bursts, her heart pounds, her hands and feet are like ice. she is ready now to leave, to surrender, to be taken. then a voice comes, a voice only she can hear, whose yoruba words say her mind can rest. that her body is no longer to struggle. she holds her eyes open, but she no longer sees. a powerful whiteness has settled against her forehead. . . . ' _'okunrin t 'o lagbara_!" a hard voice cut through the room, silencing the drums. "_shango_!" the yoruba men fell forward to touch the feet of the tall mulata who towered over them, demanding worship. her eyes glowed white, illuminating the darkness of the room; her arm stretched out toward atiba as she called for her scepter. he hesitated a moment, as though stunned that she was no longer dara, then rose to hand her a large stone that had been chipped into the form of a double-headed axe. he had fashioned it himself, in anticipation of just this moment. as he offered the sacred implement, her left hand shot out and seized his throat. she grabbed the axe head with her right hand and examined it critically. then she roughly cast him aside, against the mill. while the men watched, she raised the stone axe above her head and began to speak. "_opolopo ise i'o wa ti enikan ko le da se afi bi o ba ir oluranlowo. _. . ." the voice of shango was telling them that the yoruba must join with the other men of africa if they would not all die as slaves. otherwise they and their children and their children's children for twenty generations would be as cattle to the _branco_. even so, he would not yet countenance the spilling of innocent blood. not until yoruba blood had been spilled. they must not kill those among the _branco _who had done them no hurt. only those who would deny their manhood. suddenly she turned and glared directly at atiba. the voice grew even harsher. "atiba, son of balogun, _bi owo eni ko te eku ida a ki ibere iku ti o pa baba eni!" _it was the ancient call to arms of ife: "no man who has not grasped his sword can avenge the death of his father." but atiba sensed there was a deeper, more personal message. the voice had now become that of balogun himself, clearly, unmistakably. he felt his heart surge with shame. her last words were still ringing when a sphere of lightning slid down the centerpole of the roof and exploded against the iron mill. rings of fire danced across the rollers and dense dark smoke billowed in the room. atiba had already sprung to catch her as she slumped forward, sending her stone axe clattering across the packed floor. ' _'olorun ayuba bai ye baye tonu . . ._" through the smoke he quickly began to intone a solemn acknowledgement to the yoruba high god. then he lifted her into his arms and pressed his cheek against hers as he led the men out. she was only dimly aware of a whisper against her ear. "you are truly a woman of the yoruba, and tonight you have brought us shango's power. with him to help us, we will one day soon plant our yams where the branco's compounds stand." as they started down the pathway, single file, the lightning had gone. now there was only the gentle spatter of caribbean rain against their sweating faces as they merged with the night. chapter ten as the bell on the _rainbowe _struck the beginning of the first watch, edmond calvert stood on the quarterdeck studying the thin cup of crescent moon that hung suspended in the west. in another hour it would be gone and the dense tropical dark would descend. the time had arrived to commence the operation. he reflected grimly on how it had come to this. the ultimate responsibility, he knew, must be laid at the door of a greedy parliament. before the monarchy was abolished, the american settlements had been the personal domain of the king, and they had suffered little interference from commons. scarce wonder parliament's execution of charles was received with so much trepidation and anger here--yesterday he'd heard that in virginia the assembly had just voted to hang anyone heard defending the recent "traitorous proceedings" in england. what these americans feared, naturally enough, was that parliament would move to try and take them over. they were right. and the richest prize of all was not virginia, not massachusetts, but the sugar island of barbados. why else had he been sent here first? how could oliver cromwell have so misjudged these colonists? he thought all they needed was intimidation, and expected the fleet to manage that handily. what he'd failed to understand was the strong streak of independence that had developed here over the years, especially in barbados. instead of acting sensibly, the islanders had met the fleet with a cannon barrage and a declaration stating that they would fight to the death for their liberty. what was worse, they had steadfastly refused to budge. even so, he had tried every means possible to negotiate a surrender. he'd started a propaganda campaign, sending ashore letters and posters warning that resistance was foolhardy, that they needed the protection of england. but dalby bedford's reply was to demand that the island be allowed to continue governing itself by its own elected assembly, when everyone knew parliament would never agree. yet for a fortnight they had continued their fruitless exchange of letters, cajolery, threats-- neither side willing to relent. what else, he asked himself, was left to do now? add to that, invasion fever was becoming rife in the fleet. this morning he had hung out the flag of council, summoning the captains of all the ships aboard the _rainbowe _for a final parlay, and over a luncheon table groaning with meat and drink from the fourteen captured dutch merchant fluyts, the men had done little else save brag of victory. finally, his last hope of avoiding bloodshed gone, he had reluctantly issued orders. it had come to this--england and her most populous american colony were going to war. he then spent the afternoon watch on the quarterdeck, alone, pensively studying the flying fish that glided across the surface of the tranquil blue caribbean. hardest to repress was his own anguish at the prospect of sending english infantry against a settlement in the americas. these new world venturers were not rebel papist irishmen, against whom cromwell might well be justified in dispatching his army. they were fellow protestants. as he turned and ordered the anchor weighed, he experienced yet another disquieting reflection--unless there was some weakness in the island he did not yet know, it could win. "are we ready to issue muskets now, and bandoliers of powder and shot?" vice admiral james powlett was coming up the companionway with a purposeful stride. he heard powlett's question and decided to pass the decision on issuing of arms to the invasion commander, colonel richard morris, now waiting beside him wearing breastplate and helmet. deep wrinkles from fifty years of life were set in morris' brow, and the descending dark did not entirely obscure the worry in his blue eyes or the occasional nervous twitch in his dutch-style goatee. a seasoned army officer, he had chafed for days waiting to take his men ashore. on board the ships, he and his infantry were under naval command. on land, he would be in total charge. his impatience could not have been greater. during the forenoon watch he had personally visited each of the troop ships and picked some two hundred of the fittest infantry for the invasion. he had organized them into attack squadrons, appointed field commanders, and held a briefing for the officers. then the men had been transferred in equal numbers to the rainbowe, the marston moor, and the gloucester, where the captains had immediately ordered them down to the already-crowded gun decks to await nightfall. "we'll issue no arms till it's closer to time." morris squinted at powlett through the waning moonlight. "i'll not have some recruit light a matchcord in the dark down there between decks and maybe set off a powder keg. though i'd scarcely fault any man who did, considering the conditions you've placed my infantry under." "in truth, sir, i think we're all a trifle weary of hearing your complaints about how the navy has been required to garrison your men." powlett scowled. "may i remind you that while you've seen fit to occupy yourself grumbling, the navy has arranged to replenish our water and provisions, courtesy of all the butterboxes who were anchored in the bay. in fact, i only just this afternoon finished inventorying the last dutch fluyt and securing her hatches." powlett paused to watch as the _rainbowe _began to come about, her bow turning north. she would lead the way along the coast, the other two warships following astern and steering by a single lantern hanging from her maintopmast. their destination was the small bay off the settlement at jamestown, up the coast from carlisle bay. "what this navy has done, sir," morris' voice was rising, "is to seize and pilfer the merchantmen of a nation england has not declared war on." "we don't need letters of marque to clear our american settlements of these dutchmen," powlett continued. "they've grown so insolent and presumptuous they're not to be suffered more. if we don't put a stop to them, they'll soon make claim to all the americas, so that no nation can trade here but themselves. besides, it's thanks to these interloping hollanders that we've now got fresh water and meat enough to last for weeks." "aye, so i'm told, though my men have yet to see a sliver of this dutch meat we hear about." "there's been time needed to inventory, sir. i've had the beef we took cut into quarter pieces and pickled and put aboard the provision ships. and the pork and mutton cut into half pieces and salted. we've got enough in hand now to sit and watch this island starve, if it comes to that." morris chewed on his lip and thought bitterly of the noonday council of war called aboard the _rainbowe_. all the fleet captains had gorged themselves on fresh pork and fat mutton, washing it down with fine brandy and sack--all taken from the captain's larder of the kostverloren. "the treatment of my men on this voyage has been nothing short of a crime." he continued angrily, "it cries to heaven, i swear it." the infantrymen had been confined to the hold for the entire trip, on dungeonlike gun decks illuminated by only a few dim candles. since naval vessels required a far larger crew than merchant ships, owing to the men needed for the gun crews, there was actually less space for extra personnel than an ordinary merchantman would have afforded. a frigate the size of the rainbowe already had two watches of approximately thirty men each, together with twenty-five or more specialists--carpenters, cooks, gunnery mates. how, morris wondered, could they expect anything save sickness and misery on a ship when they took aboard an additional hundred or two hundred landsmen sure to be seasick for the whole of the voyage? need anyone be surprised when his soldiers were soon lying in their own vomit, surrounded by sloshing buckets of excrement and too sick to make their way to the head up by the bowsprit, where the seamen squatted to relieve themselves. scarce wonder more men died every day. "what's your latest estimate of their strength here on this side of the island?" morris turned back to powlett, trying to ignore the stench that wafted up out of the scuttles. "assuming the intelligence you've been getting is worth anything." "i can do without your tone, sir," the vice admiral snapped. "we have it on authority that the rebels have managed to raise some six thousand foot and four hundred horse. but their militia's strung out the length of the coast. any place we make a landing--unless it's bungled--we should have the advantage of surprise and numbers. all you have to do is storm the breastwork and spike their ordnance. it should be a passing easy night's work." "nothing's easy. the trick'll be to land the men before they can alert the entire island." morris turned back to calvert. "i'll need flintlocks for the first wave, not matchlocks, if we're to have the benefit of surprise. and i've got a feeling we'll need every advantage we can muster." "we can manage that easily enough. i'd guess we've got nearly two hundred flintlocks. and about six hundred matchlocks. so i can issue every man you have a musket and pike, and a bandolier with twelve rounds of powder and shot. as well as six yards of matchcord for the matchlocks." "so what you're saying is, we've got mostly matchlocks?" morris' voice was grim. "that's all their militia'll have, depend on it." that was doubtless true, morris told himself. it would be an oldstyle war, but plenty deadly, for it all. from the time some two centuries earlier when the musket came into general use, the most common means for firing had been to ignite a small amount of powder in an external container, the "powder pan," which then directed a flash through a tiny hole in the side of the barrel, igniting the powder of the main charge. the powder pan of a matchlock was set off using a burning "matchcord," a powder-impregnated length of cotton twine kept lit in readiness for firing the gun. the technique differed very little from the way a cannon was fired. a smoldering end of the matchcord was attached to the hammer or "cock" of the gun, which shoved it into the powder pan whenever the trigger was pulled. an infantryman using a matchlock musket carried several yards of matchcord, prudently burning at both ends. matchlocks were cheap and simple and the mainstay of regular infantry throughout europe. there was, however, an improved type of firing mechanism recently come into use, called the flintlock, much preferred by sportsmen and anyone wealthy enough to afford it. the flintlock musket ignited the powder in the external pan by striking flint against steel when the trigger was pulled, and it was a concealable weapon which could also be used in rainy weather, since it did not require a burning cord. a flintlock cost three or four times as much as a matchlock and required almost constant maintenance by a skilled gunsmith. morris suspected that whereas a few of the rich royalist exiles on barbados might own flintlocks, most of the poorer planters probably had nothing more than cheap matchlocks. "we'd also be advised to off-load some provisions once we get ashore, in case we get pinned down." morris looked coldly at powlett. "i'm thinking a few quarters of that pickled beef you took from the dutchmen wouldn't be amiss." "in time, sir. for now i can let you have twenty hogsheads of water, and i'll set ashore some salt pork from our regular stores." "what if i offered to trade all that for just a few kegs of brandy?" morris appealed to calvert. "i warrant the men'd sooner have it." calvert glanced at powlett, knowing the vice admiral had hinted at their noonday council he preferred keeping all the dutch brandy for the navy's men. "i'd say we can spare you a couple of kegs. it should be enough for a day or two's supply. but i'll not send it ashore till the breastwork is fully secured. . . ." now the _rainbowe _was entering the outer perimeter of the small bay at jamestown, and the admiral excused himself to begin giving orders for reefing the mainsail. through the dark they could see the outline of the torch-lit breastwork, a low brick fortress outlined against the palms. it's all but certain to be bristling with ordnance, morris thought. and what if their militia's waiting for us somewhere in those damned trees? how many men will i lose before daylight? he inhaled the humid night air, then turned to powlett. "we should start bringing the men up on deck. we've got to launch the longboats as soon as we drop anchor. before the militia in the breastwork has time to summon reinforcements." powlett nodded and passed the order to the quartermaster. "then i'll unlock the fo'c'sle, so we can begin issuing muskets and bandoliers." the infantrymen emerged from the hold in companies, each led by an officer. the general mismatch of body armor, the "breast" and "back," bespoke what a ragtag army it was. also, the helmets, or "pots," for those fortunate enough to have one, were a mixture of all the age had produced: some with flat brims, some that curled upward front and back. some were too large for their wearers, others too small. doublets too were a rainbow of colors, many with old-fashioned ruffs--taken from dead or captured royalists during the civil war--and the rest plain and patched with rough country cloth. the night perfume of the tropical shore and the sea was obliterated by the stench of the emerging soldiers. their faces were smeared with soot from the beams of the gun decks where they had been quartered, and they smelled strongly of sweat and the rankness of the hold. as they set grimly to work readying their weapons, a row of longboats along midships was unlashed and quietly lowered over the side. the two other warships, which had anchored astern of the _rainbowe_, also began launching their invasion craft. kegs of water, salt pork, and black powder were assembled on deck and readied to be landed after the first wave of the assault. the guns of the warships were already primed and run out, set to provide artillery support if necessary when the longboats neared the beach. but with luck the breastwork could be overrun and its gun emplacements seized before the militia had a chance to set and fire its ordnance. once the jamestown fortress was disabled, there would be a permanent breach in the island's defenses, a chink not easily repaired. the longboats had all been lowered now, and they bobbed in a line along the port side of the _rainbowe_. next, rope ladders were dropped and the infantrymen ordered to form ranks at the gunwales. those assigned to lead the attack, all armed with flintlocks, were ordered over the side first. they dropped down the dangling ladders one by one, grumbling to mask their fear. the second wave, men with matchlocks, were being issued lighted matchcord, which they now stood coiling about their waists as they waited to disembark. edmond calvert watched silently from the quarterdeck, heartsick. with them went his last hope for negotiation. now it was a state of war, england against her own settlements in the new world. "katy, all i'm trying to say is you'll jeopardize your chances for a proper marriage if this goes on much more. i only hope you have some idea of what you're about." dalby bedford leaned back in his chair and studied the head of his cane, troubled by his conflicting emotions. the night sounds from the compound outside, crickets and whistling frogs, filtered in through the closed jalousies. he loved his daughter more than life itself. what's more, he had vowed long ago never to treat her as a child. and now . . . now that she no longer was a child, what to do? it was too late to dictate to her; the time for that was years ago. she was a woman now--she was no longer his little girl. she was no longer his. they'd always been best of friends. in the evenings they'd often meet in the forecourt of the compound, where, after she was old enough to understand such things, they would laugh over the latest gossip from london: what pompous lord had been cuckolded, whose mistress had caused a scene at court. he had never thought to warn her that, as a woman, she might someday have desires of her own. but now, he was still her father, still worried over her, still wanted the right thing for her . . . and she was throwing away her best chance to secure a fine marriage--all for the company of a man whose rough manner he could not help but despise, however much he might respect his courage and talent. hugh winston was the antithesis of everything dalby bedford stood for: he was impulsive, contemptuous of law and order. how could katy be attracted to him, be so imprudent? had she learned nothing in all their years together? dalby bedford found himself puzzled, disturbed, and--yes, he had to admit it--a trifle jealous. "katy, you know i've never tried to interfere in what you choose to do, but in truth i must tell you i'm troubled about this winston. your carousing about with a smuggler is hardly demeanor fitting our position here. i fear it's already been cause for talk." she set down the leather bridle she was mending and lifted her eyes, sensing his discomfort. "you'd suppose there were more important things for the island to talk about, especially now." "what happens to you is important to me; i should hope it's important to you as well, young woman." she straightened her skirt, and the edge of her crinoline petticoat glistened in the candlelight. "hugh's a 'smuggler' when i'm out with him, but he's 'captain winston' when the militia needs a batch of raw ten-acre freeholders drilled in how to form ranks and prime a musket. i thought it was 'captain winston,' and not a 'smuggler' who's been working night and day helping keep trained gunners manning all the breastworks along the coast." "there's no arguing with you, katy. i gave that up long ago. i'm just telling you to mind yourself." he swabbed his brow against the heat of early evening and rose to open the jalousies. a light breeze whispered through the room and fluttered the curtains. "i'll grant you he's been a help to us, for all his want of breeding. but what do you know about him? no man who lives the way he does can be thought a gentleman. you've been out riding with him half a dozen times, once all the way over to the breastwork at oistins. in fact, you must have passed right by the walrond plantation. it's not gone unnoticed, you can be sure." he settled back into his chair with a sigh and laid aside his cane. these last few days he had realized more than ever how much he depended on katherine. "anthony walrond's a man of the world, but you can't push him too far. i'm just telling you to try and be discreet. in faith, my greater worry is that . . . that i'd sooner you were here with me more now. between us, i think the fleet's going to try and invade soon. if not tonight, then tomorrow or the day after for certain. talk has run its course. and if we've got to fight the english army on our own beaches, god help us." he could sense the unity on the island dissolving. many of the smaller planters were growing fearful, and morale in the militia was visibly deteriorating. half the men would just as soon have done with the constant alerts and dwindling supplies. there was scarcely any meat to be had now, and flour was increasingly being hoarded and rationed. cassava bread was finding its way onto the tables of english planters who a fortnight earlier would have deemed it fit only for indentures-- while the indentures themselves, god knows, were being fed even less than usual. without the steady delivery of provisions by the dutch shippers, there probably would be starvation on barbados inside a month. and with all the new africans on the island, many militiamen were reluctant to leave their own homes unprotected. little wonder so many of the smaller freeholders were openly talking about surrender. "katy, i hate to ask this, but i do wish you'd stay here in the compound from now on. it's sure to be safer than riding about the island, no matter who you're with." "i thought i was of age. and therefore free to come and go as i wish." "aye, that you are. you're twenty-three and twice as stubborn as your mother ever was. i just don't want to lose you too, the way i lost her." he looked at her, his eyes warm with concern. "sometimes you seem so much like her. only i think she truly loved bermuda. which i'll warrant you never really did." "it always seemed so tame." she knew how much he cherished those few years of happiness, before his long stretch of widowerhood in barbados. "there's a wildness and a mystery about this island i never felt there." "aye, you were of your own opinion, even then. but still i've always been regretful i agreed to take this post." he paused and his look darkened. "especially considering what happened on the trip down. if only i'd taken your mother below decks when the firing began, she'd still be with us." "but she wanted to see the canoes." she picked up the bridle again. "i did too." "well, you've been a comfort to a dull old man--no, don't try and deny it--more than any father has a right to expect, i suppose. you became a woman that day your mother died, no question of it." the sparkle returned to his eyes. "you'd never do anything i told you after that. may god curse you with a daughter of your own someday, katy bedford. then you'll know what it's like." at that moment she wanted nothing so much as to slip her arms around his neck and tell him she would be his dutiful daughter forever. but she was no longer sure it was true. "now admit it to me, katy. this is no time for pretense. you're smitten with this winston, aren't you? i can see the change in you." he watched as she busied herself with the bridle, trying not to look surprised. "i realize you're a woman now. i suppose i can understand how a man like him might appeal to you. and i guess there's nothing wrong with having a bit of a dalliance. god knows it's fashionable in london these days. but your winston's a curious fellow, and there're doubtless a lot of things about him neither of us knows." he looked at her. "i'm sure your mother wouldn't have approved, any more than i do." "what does she have to do with this?" she knew he always invoked her mother's alleged old-fashioned views any time he couldn't think of a better argument. "perhaps you're right. what you do now is on my head, not hers." he paused, not wanting to meet her eyes. "i'll grant you i might have sowed a few wild oats myself, when i was your age. and i can't say i've entirely regretted it. the fact is, as i get older that's one of the few things from my early years i remember at all. after a while, all other memories fade." his voice drifted away. "and now, the way things have come to pass, these days may be the last either of us has left to . . ." he raised his hand suddenly, as though to silence himself. from down the hill came the faint crack of a musket, then another and another. three shots. they both waited, listening in the dim candlelight as the night sounds of crickets and frogs resumed once more. finally he spoke. "well, there it is." she rose and walked over behind his chair. she hesitated for a moment, then slipped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her cheek against his. there were so many things shed wanted to say to him over the years. now suddenly it was almost too late, and still she couldn't find the words. she wanted to hold him now, but something still stopped her. silently he touched her hand, then reached for his cane and stood. "i've ordered the carriage horses kept harnessed, in case." he was already halfway to the door. "i suppose i'd best go down to the point first, just to be sure." "i want to go with you." she grabbed the bridle and ran after him. to let him get away, with so much still unsaid. . . . "no, you'll stay here, and for once that's an order." he took her hand and squeezed it. "i didn't tell you that five members of the assembly have already called for surrender. five out of twenty-two. i wonder how many more'll be ready to join them after tonight. if the assembly votes to give in, katy, you know it'll probably mean a trial in london for me." he kissed her on the cheek. "you'll have to look out for yourself then, and that'll be time aplenty to go chasing around the island in the dark." he drew back. "in the meantime, you'd best decide what you plan to do about this winston fellow if that happens. don't go losing your heart to him. he's a rogue who'll not do the right thing by you. or any woman. mark it. a father still can see a few things. he's already got one woman, that ship of his, and a seaman like that never has room for anyone else." she had to concede that, in truth, there was something to what he said. up till now shed been managing to keep things in balance. but was she starting to let desire overrule that better judgment? for the hundredth time she warned herself to keep her head. "in the first place i don't wish to marry hugh winston. so it's just as well, isn't it, that he's got his ship. i see all too well what he is. i'm going to marry anthony, and try and make the best of things." her eyes hardened. "and secondly, we're not going to lose. you just have to delay the assembly from voting a surrender. hugh thinks the militia can drive them back." "aye, we may hold out for a time. we've got trained gunners for every breastwork on the west and south coasts. but how long before some of the militia starts defecting? then what can we do? with guns at our backs as well . . ." he exhaled pensively. "by the way, on the subject of winston, i've noticed something a trifle incongruous about that man. he appears to know a lot more about cannon and fortifications than a seaman reasonably ought, probably as much or more even than anthony walrond. has he ever said where he learned it?" "he never talks much about his past." she had found herself increasingly puzzled, and not a little infuriated, by winston's secretiveness. probably the only woman he ever confided in was joan fuller. "but sometimes i get the idea he may have learned a lot of what he knows from a frenchman. now and then he slips and uses a french name for something. i'd almost guess he helped a band of frenchmen set up defenses somewhere in the caribbean once." dalby bedford quietly sucked in his breath and tried to mask his dismay. the only "band of frenchmen" to fit that description would be the little settlement of planters on the french side of st. christopher, or the cow-killers on tortuga. and hugh winston hardly looked like a planter. "well, maybe it's just as well we don't know, katy." he reached for his hat. "now mind yourself, and make sure all the servants have muskets. don't open the door to anyone." he pecked her quickly on the cheek. "just be glad your friend winston's frigate is aground. his 'other woman' is beached for now; try and keep her that way." suddenly james, their stooping, white-haired irish servant pushed through the doorway from the paneled entry foyer. the night breeze set the candles flickering. "excellency!" he bowed nervously. "pardon me, excellency. there's a . . . gentleman to see you. he just rode into the compound all in a sweat. claims he's come up from mistress fuller's place." the assembly had voted to place hugh winston in command of the gunnery crews for the cannon emplacements at the four major breastworks along the coast: lookout point, bridgetown, and jamestown on the west; and oistins bay, on the south. in line with that responsibility, he had taken the front room of joan's tavern and converted it into a meeting place for his gunnery officers. several of joan's rickety pine tables had been lashed together to form a desk; from that makeshift post he assigned the daily watches for each of the breastworks and monitored supplies. he also maintained close communication with the commanders of the field militia, both infantry and cavalry, who were drawn from the ranking planters and royalist officers in each parish. the militia itself had individual field command posts in each of the parish churches. the tavern was a comfortable rendezvous place for the men assigned to the guns, mostly seamen or former seamen who had gained their experience with heavy ordnance on a gun deck. joan's familiar clapboard establishment enjoyed a commanding view of the harbor, and, unlike the parish churches, offered the finest food and grog remaining on the island. joan presided over the accommodations, making sure necessary amenities were always at hand. she also kept a close eye on the loyalties of those who gathered. tonight, however, the tavern was all but empty save for winston, his quartermaster john mewes and his master's mate edwin spurre, since all gunnery mates were on alert and at their posts at the various breastworks along the coast. the three of them were waiting for the signal, horses saddled and ready. the night was clear and humid, and a light breeze had just sprung up in the south. winston leaned against the doorjamb, half in and half out, exhausted from a day-long ride reviewing gun emplacements along the shore. john mewes was stationed outside on the porch, tankard in hand, keeping an eye on the sentry post atop lookout point. a system of lantern signals had been arranged to alert the bridgetown command post to any change in the disposition of the fleet. "i've got a feelin' about tonight, cap'n. word from up on the point at midday was they were holdin' a big meetin' aboard the _rainbowe_. an' then she got underway and made about a league out to sea, along with the troop ships." mewes took a nervous puff from the long stem of his white clay pipe. "i'd say it's odds they're planning a little surprise for us tonight. more'n likely somewhere along the west coast." "i've got the same feeling, john." he strolled across the narrow porch and stared up the hill, toward the sentry post stationed at the north end of the point. "what was the latest signal?" "same as usual. five flashes on the quarter hour, meanin' no sightings." mewes reached to tap his pipe against the heavy beam at the corner of the building. "i told tonight's watch to report anything that moved. but they'll be hard pressed to see much beyond the bay here." "then you stay lively too. and try not to get too thirsty." winston lifted a flintlock musket he had brought ashore from the _defiance_ and tested the lock by the light of a candle lantern. next he started polishing the barrel with a cloth he had borrowed from joan. "i've got an idea they may try and land up at jamestown, or maybe even farther north." "then hadn't we best advise the militia commanders to double the security on the breastwork up that way?" "i spoke with walrond, up at jamestown, late this afternoon. we both figure that's the most likely location. he's already ordered up reinforcements for tonight." he drew a musket patch from his pocket and began to clean the sooty powder pan of the musket. "i didn't see any militia moving out from around here." "nobody was to move till dark. we don't want the fleet's puritan spies here to know we're ready. we'd lose our chance to catch their infantry in a noose." "betwixt you an' me, i'd just as soon they never got around to landing infantry." mewes shifted up his trousers. "a man could well get his balls shot off amidst all that musket fire." winston pulled back the hammer of the musket, checking its tension. "sometimes i wonder why the hell i keep you on, john. i'd wager most of joan's girls have more spirit for a fight." "aye, i'd sooner do my battlin' on a feather mattress, i'll own it. so the better question is why i stay on under your command." "could be the fine caliber of men you're privileged to ship with." "aye, that crew of gallows-bait are a rare species of gentility, as i'm a christian." he started to laugh, then it died in his throat. "god's wounds, was that a signal up at the point?" "looked to be." winston flipped over the musket and examined the barrel. then he selected a "charge holder"--a tiny metal flask--from among the twelve strung from the bandolier draped over his shoulder and began pouring its black powder into the muzzle. "three longs and a short. that means a mast lantern putting in at jamestown, right?" he fitted a patch over the ramrod and began to tamp in the powder. "probably the _rainbowe_. " "aye, that's the signal." mewes shoved the pipe into his pocket. "want me to fetch the muskets?" "tell joan to give you those two leaning in the corner, at the back. i just got through priming them." mewes vaulted the steps leading to the open tavern door. seconds later, joan appeared, holding the two flintlocks. "what is it, darlin'?" her eyes were bloodshot with fatigue. "are we finally due for some company?" "right on schedule. the surf's been down all day. i figured they'd try it tonight." he finished tapping the ball down the muzzle of the musket, then placed the gun carefully on the step. "i guess that means i win our wager." "god's blood, i never thought it'd come to this. i was sure they'd never have the brass to try it." she passed him the muskets. "so we'll be going to war after all. i'd wager you another shilling you'll not hold them off, darlin', save there'd be no way to collect if i won." "all wagers are off now. this one's too hard to call." he handed one of the flintlocks to john mewes, then cocked the other and aimed it into the dark night air. "ready, john?" "aye." mewes cocked the musket and aimed it at the sliver of moon on the western horizon. "tell me again. the signal for jamestown's one shot, a count of five, another shot, a count of ten, and then the third?" "that's it." "fire when ready." winston squeezed the trigger and the powder pan flashed in the dark. five seconds later mewes discharged the second musket, then after ten seconds winston fired the third, the one he had just loaded. "all right, john. get the horses." "aye." mewes disappeared around the side of the tavern, headed for the makeshift stable located at the rear. approximately a minute later the signal of three musket shots was repeated by militiamen in the field command post at black rock, on the road to jamestown. shortly after there again came a faint repetition of the pattern of shots, farther north. the prearranged signal was moving quickly up the coast. mewes emerged from the dark leading two speckled mares. he patted one on the side of her face, muttered an endearment, then passed the reins to winston. "i'm ready to ride." "all right, john, i'll see you at jamestown. put spurre in charge here and go up to the governor's compound to tell bedford. if he's not there, then try the assembly room. if they're meeting tonight, tell them to adjourn and get every man up to jamestown, on the double. we may need them all." mewes bellowed instructions through the doorway. then he seized the saddle horn of the smaller horse and pulled himself up. "aye. i'll be up there myself soon as i can manage, depend on it." joan stood beside winston, watching as he vanished into the dark. "well now, that's most curious." she cocked back her head and her eyes snapped in the lantern light. "i'm surprised you'd not take the opportunity to go up to his excellency's compound yourself. seein' you're so well acquainted with the family these days." "all in the line of duty." "duty my arse, you whoremaster. but you'll get what you deserve from that one, on my honor. she thinks she's royalty itself." she held the reins while he mounted. "don't say i didn't give you a friendly warning." "i'm warned." he vaulted into the saddle as edwin spurre emerged through the doorway to assume lookout duty. "edwin, prime and ready the muskets. in case they try to attack on two fronts. do you know the signals?" "aye, cap'n." joan handed up the reins. "godspeed. you know if you let those puritan hypocrites take over the island, there'll be a lot of wives thinkin' they can finally close me down. just because they've got nothing better to fret about." "we'll win." he looked at joan a moment and reached out to take her hand. tonight he felt almost like he was defending the only home he had left. now he had no ship, and jamaica seemed farther away than ever. he leaned over in the saddle and kissed her. she ran her arms around his neck, then drew back and pinched his cheek. "show those roundhead bastards a thing or two about how to shoot, love. i'm counting on you, though damned if i know why." "just keep the grog under lock and key till i get back." he waved lightly, then reined the mare toward the road north. as the horse clattered across the loose boards of the bridge, he glanced over his shoulder, up the hill toward the compound. what'll happen to bedford and katy, he wondered to himself, if we can't hold off the attack? it'll be the tower and a trial for him, not a doubt. probably charged with leading a rebellion. and what about her . . .? more riders were joining him now, militiamen who had been waiting for the signal. the distance to jamestown was several miles, and they were all riding hard. none spoke, other than a simple greeting, each man thinking of the stakes. no one wanted to contemplate what would happen should they lose. we'll win, he kept telling himself as he spurred his mare. by god, we have to. chapter eleven jeremy walrond slid his hand down the long steel barrel of the flintlock, letting his fingers play across the latin motto engraved along the top, _ante ferit quam flamma micet_. "it strikes before the flash is seen." the piece had been given to him on his twelfth birthday by his brother anthony, and it was superb--crafted in holland, with a fine flemish lock and carved ivory insets of hunting scenes in the stock. with it he had once, in a stroke of rare luck, brought down a partridge in flight. now through a dismaying and improbable chain of events he must turn this work of artistry against a fellow human being. it was true he had been part of the royalist cause in the civil war, a clerk helping direct the transport of supplies, but he had never been near enough to the lines to fire a musket. or to have a musket fired at him. the thought of battle brought a moistness to his palms and a dull, hollow ache in his gut. while the men around him in the trench--all now under his command-- reinforced their courage with a large onion-flask of homemade kill- devil, he gazed over the newly mounded earth and out to sea, ashamed at his relief there was as yet no flash of lantern, no telltale red dots of burning matchcord. the only moving lights were the darting trails of fireflies, those strange night creatures that so terrified newcomers to the caribbees. in a few more moments the last of the moon, now a thin lantern, would drop beneath the western horizon, causing the coast and the sea to be swallowed in blackness. after that happened, he told himself, he might see nothing more, hear nothing more, till the first musket ball slammed home. war, he meditated, was man's greatest folly. excused in the name of abstractions like "liberty" and "country" and "dignity." but what dignity was there for those who died with a musket ball in their chest? no beast of the earth willfully killed its own kind. only man, who then styled himself the noblest of god's creatures. he loosened his hot lace collar, hoping to catch some of the on-again, off-again breeze that had risen in the south and now swept the pungent smell of bridgetown's harbor up along the coast. aside from the rattle of militiamen's bandoliers and occasional bursts of gallows laughter, the only sounds were night noises--the clack of foraging land crabs, the chirps and whistles of crickets and toads, the distant batter of surf and spray against the sand. inland, the green hills of barbados towered in dark silence. he looked out to sea once more and realized the surf was beginning to rise, as wave after frothy wave chased up the crystalline sand of the shore, now bleached pale in the last waning moonlight. the ships were out there, he knew, waiting. he could almost feel their presence. both the trench and the breastwork were back away from the shore--back where the sand merged with brown clay and the first groves of palms, heralds of the hardwood thickets farther upland. through the palms he could barely discern the silhouettes of the gunners as they loitered alongside the heavy ordnance, holding lighted linstocks. fifteen cannon were there tonight, ranging in gauge from nine to eighteen-pound shot, shielded on the sea side by a head-high masonry wall cut with battlements for the guns. though the original jamestown gun emplacement had been built two decades earlier, as a precaution against spanish attack, that threat had faded over the years, and gradually the planters of barbados had grown complacent. they had permitted the fort to slowly decay, its guns to clog with rust from the salt air. how ironic, he thought, that now an english attack, not spanish, had finally occasioned its first repairs. over the past fortnight the old cannon had been cleaned of rust and primed; and new dutch guns, all brass, had been hauled up by oxcart from carlisle bay and set in place. now six of these, small demi-culverin, had just been removed from the breastwork and hauled to safety inland at first word of the invasion. he heard the murmur of approaching voices and looked up to see two shadowy figures moving along the dirt parapet that protected the trench. one was tall and strode with a purposeful elegance; the other lumbered. "it'll be a cursed dark night once we've lost the moon, and that's when they're apt to start launching the longboats. damn winston if he's not in place by then. are his men over where they're supposed to be?" the hard voice of benjamin briggs drifted down. the silhouette that was anthony walrond merely nodded silently in reply. jeremy rose and began climbing up the parapet, his bandolier rattling. anthony turned at the noise, recognized him, and motioned him forward. "are your men ready?" "yes, sir." anthony studied him thoughtfully a moment. "watch yourself tonight, lad." he paused, then looked away. "do remember to take care." "that i will." jeremy broke the silence between them. "but i'm not afraid, truly." he patted his bandolier for emphasis, causing the charge holders to clank one against the other. he knew he owed his assignment of the rank of ensign--which normally required holdings of at least fifteen acres--and the leadership of a squad solely to the influence of his older brother, who commanded the vital jamestown defenses by unanimous consent of the assembly. jeremy's militiamen--eight in number--were all small freeholders with rusty matchlocks and no battle experience. he had been too ashamed to tell anthony he didn't desire the honor of being an officer. it was time to prove he was a walrond. "jeremy, we all know fear, but we learn to rise above it. you'll make me proud tonight, i'll lay odds." he reached and adjusted the buckle of the shoulder strap holding jeremy's sword. "now have your men light their matchcord and ready the prime on their muskets." jeremy gave his brother a stiff salute and passed the order into the trench. a burning taper was handed slowly down the line of men, and each touched it to the tip of his matchcord, then threaded the glowing fuse through the serpentine cock of his musket. he secretly rejoiced he had a new-style flintlock; at least there would be no lighted matchcord to betray his own whereabouts in the dark. he stood for a moment watching his men prepare, then glanced back at the squat outline of benjamin briggs. what, he wondered, was he doing here tonight? briggs was gazing down at the parapet now, critically scuffing his boots against the soft earth. "this trench of yours will do damned little to protect these lads from cannon fire if somebody in the fleet takes a mind to shell the breastwork. i pray to god it was worth the time and trouble." a crew of indentures, as well as many of winston's new men, had worked around-the-clock for three days digging the trench. the idea had come from anthony walrond. "i'm betting on an invasion, not an artillery duel." anthony nodded toward jeremy one last time, a light farewell, then turned back to briggs. "an open shelling with their big ordnance would be foolhardy; right now it's too dark to try and fire on our emplacements. add to that, we have word the commander in charge of the army is a roundhead rogue named dick morris. i know him all too well. he doesn't believe in a lot of cannon fire, when a few men can achieve what he wants. he'll just try to land enough men to overrun and disable our guns." "well and all, may almighty god damn our luck that it's come down to this. the last thing we need is war with england. but if it's fight we must, then i say give them our all. and don't let them catch us short." briggs gazed past jeremy, down the trench. "do all these men have enough matchrope, powder, and shot?" anthony felt himself nearing his limit of tolerance for civilians. all the planter had found to do since arriving was denigrate their readiness. "we've managed to get bandoliers, and 'the twelve apostles,' for all the men"--he deliberately used the irreverent battlefield nickname for the dozen charge-holders of musket powder on a standard bandolier--"and there's plenty of matchcord, with what we got from the dutchmen before they were seized." he tightened his eye-patch and surveyed the line of ragged planters and indentures marshalled down the trench, trying to envision them under attack. the picture was discouraging, at the very least. how many here have ever taken musket fire, he wondered. this bunker will likely be overrun by the first wave of morris' infantry. god curse cromwell for sending him. he's tenacious as an english bulldog. and crafty as a fox. he'll land the pick of his troops, and the minute they open fire, it's odds this line of farmers will panic and run for those green hills. we've got superiority of numbers, but it doesn't mean a thing. what we need, and don't have, is nerve, experience, and most of all, the will to fight. i'll wager not one man in ten here tonight has all three. "i'd like to know, sir, what's your true opinion of the plan that's been worked out." briggs turned to walrond, hating the man's arrogance and his royalist politics, yet respecting his military experience. he had led a royalist attack at the battle of marsten moor that was still remembered as one of the most daring maneuvers of the civil war. "do you think we can catch their landing force in a bind, the way we're hoping?" anthony moved away from the edge of the trench. "taken all for all, it's about the best we can do. if it succeeds, well and good, but if it fails, we're apt to end up . . ." jeremy tried to hear the rest, but anthony's voice faded into the dark as he and briggs moved on down the parapet. the night was closing in again. having drained their flask of kill- devil, the militiamen were grumbling nervously as they waited in a line down the trench, backs to the newly turned earth. again the sounds of the dark swelled up around them--the chirps and whistles, the monotonous pendulum of surf in the distance. war. was it mainly waiting? maybe there would be no landing. how preposterous all this would seem then. tomorrow he would wake in his featherbed, dreaming he was back in england, laughing at the absurdity of it all. sense would prevail. the fleet would hoist sail. . . . a volley of musket fire exploded from the direction of the breastwork. shouts. then clustered points of light, the tips of burning matchcord on the infantry's muskets, suddenly appeared along the shore. the first attackers had crept up behind the cannon and fired into the gunners with flintlocks, so there would be no smoldering ignition match on their muskets to betray them. those in the second wave had somehow masked their lighted matchcord until their longboats pulled into the surf. now, after the surprise attack on the gun emplacement, they were splashing ashore, holding their muskets high. jeremy watched as the flickering red dots spread out along the shore in disciplined rows. for a moment he had the impression jamestown was being attacked by strings of fireflies that had emerged from the deep caribbean sea. "prepare to fire." he heard a voice giving the order, and was vaguely astonished to realize it was his own. the trench sounded with the clicks of powder pans being opened and hammers being readied. "take aim." that was the phrase; he had started practicing it five days before, when he was assigned the command. but now, what next? aim where? the fireflies were inching up the shore in deadly rows. there looked to be hundreds. they would spew lead shot the moment the militia's trench was revealed. he knew that the order to fire the first round must come from anthony. why was he waiting? the roundhead infantry must be no more than fifty yards down the shore. he felt his palm grow moist against the ivory of the stock, and for a moment he thought he smelled an acrid stench of fear down the trench. more muskets blazed from the rear of the brick fortress, followed by screams and shouts of surrender. in the jumble of musket fire and lanterns he could tell that the jamestown breastwork had been circled and seized: its gunners overwhelmed, its cannon still directed impotently out toward the dark sea. only two culverin had been fired. he watched heartsick as the invading infantrymen, breastplates shining in the lantern light, swarmed over the guns. the militia manning the cannons had been sacrificed. deliberately. to draw in the rest of the invading force. he felt his anger welling up. in war the men who actually fought counted for nothing. where was the rest of the militia? were they waiting at the right perimeter, as they were supposed to be? he knew that the plan all along had been to let the guns be seized. but now that it had happened, he felt a demoralizing pang of loss and defeat. why should the gunners be exposed to a musket attack? surely there was some other way. . . . "give fire!" he heard anthony's command and felt his heart jump. the infantry was practically in pistol range. this was going to be near to murder. the trigger felt cold against his finger as he sighted into the dark, directly toward one of the approaching tips of fire. the gun flashed and kicked upward. the parapet was suddenly bathed in light as the long line of muskets around him discharged. he gasped for breath as the air in the trench turned to smoke--burning charcoal and saltpeter. the points of light danced in chaos, and then he heard screams. the man next to him, a grizzled, frightened freeholder, had clambered up the loose dirt of the parapet to gain a better view of the fighting at the breastwork. jeremy realized that this man, too, had never witnessed a battle before. then came a row of flashes from where the red dots had been, like the long string of exploding rockets fired over the thames on st. george's day. the freeholder beside him suddenly groaned and pitched backward, his smoking matchlock plowing into the soft dirt of the parapet as he sprawled downward into the trench. then another man, farther down, screamed and doubled over his gun. "half-cock your muskets, disengage your match," jeremy heard himself shouting. "prepare to recharge." anthony had coached him that one of the primary duties of a field officer was to call out orders for priming and loading, since men in battle often forgot crucial steps. with a live matchcord attached to the hammer, it was all too easy to set off a musket while you were ramming in the charge. "prime your pan." he tried to bellow above the din as he began pouring priming powder from a flask on his bandolier into the flintlock's powder pan. "close your pan. prepare to scour." as he and the men quickly cleaned the barrels of their muskets, then began to ram in more powder and shot, he kept glancing toward the approaching infantry. they too had paused to reload. he could see the outlines of the men now, and hear the shouts of officers. which men were officers? at the end of one row of infantrymen stood a tall man in a silver helmet who seemed to be issuing the commands for reloading. he must be one, jeremy realized. he's faster at reloading than the others. he's almost ready. that man, tall and comely, would make a passing good companion to share a hunt, afield and stalking grouse on a dew-laden morning. if we were both back in england now . . . except . . . he's here to kill me. "you!" he shouted a challenge as he climbed up the parapet, readying his flintlock. there were shouts from the militiamen behind him, warning him to come down, but he did not hear, did not want to hear. the officer in the silver helmet looked up and spotted the outline of the brash youth standing atop the parapet, brandishing a musket. he knew. jeremy watched as the man drew up his musket and took aim. he waited a moment in fascination, savoring what it was like to face death, then drew up his own flintlock and sighted the man's chest down the barrel. there was a flash of light and a whistle past his ear, the sound of a hurried horsefly. then he squeezed the trigger. the roundhead officer opened his mouth noiselessly and seemed to wilt backward. he fumbled for his musket as it clattered against a jagged lump of coral beside him, then sprawled onto the sand, still as death, his helmet circling in drunken arcs down the slope toward the surf. "sir, mind you take cover!" in the flush sweeping over him, he scarcely felt the hands tugging at his boots. he was still gripping his flintlock, knuckles white, as the other militiamen dragged him back into the trench. he lay panting, at once dazed and exhilarated, astonished at the sensations of his own mind and body. the most curious thing of all was his marvelous new awareness of being alive; he was adrift in a new realm of the spirit, untroubled by the cacophony of musket discharges from all sides. "we're turnin' the whoresons back." there were more shouts now, even some cheers. finally the din of battle cut through his reverie. "prepare to reload." he was shouting again, almost more to himself than to the others, trying to be heard above the crack of musket fire that sounded down the length of the shoreline. everywhere there were flashes, yells, screams. the air in the trench was rancid and opaque with black smoke. as he began reloading his musket he suddenly felt a new closeness, almost a mystical union, with the ragged planters around him. they were a fraternity of men, standing together, defending their land. why had anthony never told him that war could be like this? could teach you brotherhood as well as hate? he was priming his powder pan again, trying to control the shake of his hands as he tilted the powder flask, when he looked up to see that more red tips were emerging from the darkness of the sea. another wave of roundhead infantry had landed in longboats. there was no longer any purpose in calling out a loading sequence. some men were priming now, some ramming in powder and shot, some threading their matchcord into the hammer, some firing again. all the discipline he had been taught so carefully by anthony was irrelevant. most frightening of all, while the first wave of infantry had dropped back to reload, a fresh line of musketmen was advancing toward the parapet, guns primed and ready. "fire and fall back. in orderly fashion." it was the voice of anthony. the call to abandon the trench meant that all the roundhead infantry had landed. now they were to be drawn inland with a feigned retreat. the plan worked out was to resist strongly until all the infantry were ashore, to damage them as much as possible using the protection of the parapet, and then to fall back into the trees, luring them away from their longboats. when their lines were thinned, hugh winston would lead a cavalry charge that would drive a wedge along the shore, between the infantry and the sea, cutting off their escape. next the longboats would be driven off, and the invading infantry slowly surrounded. they would be harassed by irregular fire and, with luck, soon lose heart. cut off from their escape route, the demoralized invaders would have no choice but to surrender. then, so the strategy went, commander morris and the admiral of the fleet would seek to negotiate. jeremy fired blindly into the dark, then reached down for his pike. as he touched it, his eyes met those of the dying freeholder lying beside him. blood now streamed from a gash in the man's tattered jerkin, while a red rivulet flowed in pulses from the corner of his mouth. the sight flooded him with anger. "no!" he heard himself yelling as he groped down his bandolier for another charge-holder. "no retreat." he turned to the startled men around him. "reload. i say no retreat!" "but that's the orders, yor worship." a bearded militiaman had already begun to scramble up the back side of the trench. "devil take the orders. look." he seized the militiaman's jerkin and yanked him back, then pointed to the dying freeholder at their feet. "aye, that's roland jenkins, may god rest his soul. i'm like to be the one tellin' his wife." the freeholder gave a quick glance. "but there's nothin' to be done, yor worship. orders are to retreat." "and i say damn the orders." he was yelling to all the men now. "there are men here, wounded and dying. i'm staying with them. what kind of soldiers are we, to leave these men to die? it's wrong. there're higher orders to be obeyed. i say no." "an' we'll all end up like this poor sod, yor worship. there's no helpin' a man who's gone to meet his god." the man threw his musket onto the fresh dirt at the bottom of the trench and turned to begin clambering to safety. "for my own part, i can do just as well not greetin' the almighty for a few years more." jeremy seized his pike and marched down the trench. "i'll gut any man who tries to run. i'm in command here and i say we stand and fight. now reload." the men stared at him in disbelief. "do it, i say." he brandished the pike once more for emphasis, then flung it down and seized a charge-holder on his bandolier. without so much as a glance at the other men, he began pouring the grainy black powder into the barrel of his musket. the world was suddenly a white, deafening roar. later he remembered mainly the flash, how as the smoke seared his eyes he recalled his own negligence, that he had forgotten to scour the barrel. it was a fool's mistake, a child's mistake. he was still wiping his eyes, seared and powder-burned, when he felt the musket being ripped from his hands. as he groped to seize it back, rough hands shoved him sprawling against the soft dirt of the trench. his face plowed into the earth, which still smelled fresh, musky and ripe, full of budding life. "we've got another one, sor." a brash voice sounded near his ear. "a right coxcomb, this rebel." "damn you." jeremy struck out, only half aware of the cluster of infantrymen surrounding him. "just hold yourself, lad." there were shouts as several of the wounded militiamen were disarmed. he tried to struggle, but more hands brusquely wrestled him down. "this one's not taken any shot. he's lively as a colt. let's have some of that rope." he felt his arms being pulled behind him and a rough cord lashed around his wrists. there were sounds of a brief conference, then a voice came, kindly, almost at his ear. "this is a first-class fowling piece you're carrying. i'll wager you've brought down many a plump woodcock with it, haven't you lad?" a pause, then again the gentle voice. "what's your name, son?" "damned to you. what's your name?" there was a sickening hollowness in his gut again. the fear, and now hatred--for them, and for himself. "it's better, for the time, if i ask the questions and you answer them." the voice emanated from a man wearing a silver helmet and sporting a short goatee. "why didn't you run, like the rest of the rebels?" he laughed lightly as he moved closer. jeremy felt a palm cup beneath his chin and felt his head being twisted upward. "by my word, i think your musket misfired. your face is black as a moor's. i'll warrant you'd have run too, if you could have seen the way. could it be you're naught but a coward too, lad, like all the rest?" the speaker turned to a young, blue-eyed man standing nearby. "well, sir, who'd have reckoned it'd be this easy? you can tell admiral calvert this island's as good as his for the taking. this militia of theirs is nothing but a batch of scared planters, who scatter like rabbits the minute they hear a gunshot. and a few young gallants like this one, who scarcely know how to prime a musket. there's no reason to fall back and hold this position. we'd as well just go on after them, chase them back to bridgetown, and have done with it." jeremy felt a flush of victory. they had fallen into the trap. they thought barbados wouldn't fight! in minutes they'd be surrounded by the militia and begging to surrender. as soon as the counterattack began, he would . . . "i think we'd best take this one back to the ship, to find out who he is and if he knows anything." it was the man standing next to the goateed commander. "it's a damned bother to have prisoners to feed, but i'll warrant this engagement's got three days at most to go before they all throw down their arms and sue for peace." "damn your smug eyes." jeremy reached down and seized his pike, which had been lying unnoticed against the side of the trench. he turned and faced the commander. "you'll never even get back to your ship. men died here tonight and they didn't die in vain, by all that's holy." "what say, lad? pray, who's to stop us?" the commander glanced at the pike, seeming to ignore it. he waved back several infantrymen who had quickly leveled their muskets at jeremy. "your bold militia here has taken to its heels, one and all. a bloody lot of royalist cowards." "there're braver men on barbados than you know. you'll not take me, or any prisoners, back to the ship. you'll see bridgetown soon enough, all right, at the point of a gun." "perhaps that's so, lad, but not at the point of a pike. now put it away. this little engagement's over." the man with the goatee was studying him with admiration. "you're a brave one, lad. too brave, by my life, or too foolish. . . ." "you don't suppose there's something behind this lad's bluster." the other man turned to the commander. "could it be their militia might've run on purpose? to thin out our lines for a counterattack?" the shouting had died down now, as strings of captured militiamen were being assembled and placed under guard. some were joking with their captors, clearly relieved to be out of the battle. jeremy suspected several had deliberately surrendered--small freeholders who didn't care a damn whether cromwell's fleet took the island or not. as he watched them with contempt, he felt ashamed to be one of them. suddenly the horror of it all swept over him and he flung down the pike in disgust. "now that's a good lad." the commander nodded, then turned to the other man. "vice admiral powlett, for once you may be right. in truth, i was beginning to wonder the same thing. this could all have been too easy by half." "with your permission, sor, i'll put the young gallant here in with the rest of the rebels." one of the infantrymen had seized jeremy's arms. "no, leave him here a minute." the commander was pointing toward jeremy. "the lad's no planter. he doubtless knows more of what's going on than these others do. something he said just now troubles me." "should i bring up the men and start to move in, sir?" a captain of the infantry appeared out of the smoky haze that now enveloped the shoreline. "hold a while and keep your lines together. it's too quiet." jeremy looked up and saw the goatee next to his face. "now tell me, lad. there's been enough killing here for one night, as i'm a christian. is there going to have to be more? if you don't tell me, it'll be on your head, i swear it." "this night is on your head, sir, and the roundhead rebels who've stolen the crown of england. and now would try to steal barbados too." the man waved the words aside. "lad, i'm too old for that. let your royalist rhetoric lie dead, where it deserves to be. my name is morris, and if you know anything, you'll know i've seen my time fighting your royalists in the damned civil war. but that's over, thank god, and i have no wish to start it up again. now give me your name." "my name is for men i respect." "a sprightly answer, lad, on my honor. there's spark about you." "the name on this musket looks to be walrond, sor, if i make it out right." one of the infantrymen was handing the flintlock to morris. "walrond?" morris reached for the gun and examined it closely, running his hand along the stock and studying the name etched on the lock. "a fine royalist name. by chance any kin to sir anthony walrond?" "my brother, and he's . . ." "your brother! you don't mean it." morris' goatee twitched with surprise as he moved next to jeremy and studied his face. "god is my witness, it's scarcely a name you need blush to give out. england never bred a braver, finer soldier, royalist or no. is he your commander here tonight? you couldn't have one better." "i have never heard my brother speak well of you, sir." "anthony walrond? speak well of a man who'd rid england of his precious king?" morris laughed. "he'd sooner have god strike him dead. he's never had a good word to say for a puritan in his life. but he's a worthy gentleman, for it all, and an honorable soldier in the field." he turned to an officer standing nearby. "essex, regroup the men. i think we'd best just hold this breastwork for now. it could well be anthony walrond's in command of this militia. if he is, you can wager he'd not countenance a retreat unless he planned to counterattack. i know his modus operandi. and his pride." "aye sir. as you will." the captain turned and shouted, "men, fall back and regroup! form lines at the breastwork and reload." "now if you like. master walrond, i still can order all these men to march off into the dark and let your militia ambush and kill half of them--likely losing a hundred of their own in the trade. would you really have me do it? is this damned little island worth that much blood, over and above what's already been spilt here tonight?" jeremy gazed down at the line of dead militiamen, bodies torn by musket balls. beyond them the roundhead infantry was collecting its own dead, among them the man he himself had killed. now it all seemed so pointless. a blaze of musket fire flared from a position just north of the breastwork, and a phalanx of whooping and yelling militiamen opened a charge down the north side of the beach. jeremy watched morris' eyes click. the kindly man was suddenly gone. with an oath, he yelled for the prisoners to be hurried to the longboats, and the devil take the wounded. the infantry at the breastwork was returning the fire of the attacking militia, but they were now badly outnumbered. jeremy made out what could have been the tall form of anthony, wielding a musket as he urged the militia forward. then he was passed by a wall of men on horseback. the cavalry. the lead horse, a bay gelding, was ridden by a tall man holding a pistol in each hand. the infantry holding the breastwork began retreating down the south steps, on the side opposite the attackers. jeremy could make out morris now, ordering his men to make for the longboats. "get along with you, rebel." a pike punched him in the back and he was shoved in with the other prisoners. now they were being hurried, stumbling and confused, in the direction of the water. part of the barbados militia had already swarmed over the abandoned breastwork, while others were riding along the shore, muskets blazing, hurrying to seal off the escape route to the longboats. they intercepted the retreating infantry midway down the beach, and the gunfire gave way to the sound of steel against steel, as empty muskets were discarded in favor of pikes and swords. jeremy felt the warm surf splash his legs, and he looked up to see the outline of the waiting boats. he and the rest of the prisoners were on the far south side of the breastwork, away from the fighting, forgotten now. he was a prisoner of war. directly ahead, two longboats were being towed in through the surf-- wide, hulking forms in the dim light, with sails furled and rows of oarsmen midships. as he watched them approach, he suddenly remembered his lost flintlock, a gift from anthony, and the thought of its loss completed his mortification. "get in or be damned to you." several infantrymen were splashing through the surf behind him now, half-pikes raised, urging on malingerers with the blades. jeremy felt the hard gunwale of the longboat slam against his shoulder, then hands reaching down for him and grabbing his arms. he was yanked up, wet and shivering in the freshening wind, then shoved sprawling onto the boards. "one move, any of you, and there'll be a pike in your guts." an infantryman began tying the prisoners' hands. as jeremy felt the rough cords against his wrists, he looked up and glanced over the side. the retreating infantry had drawn itself into a protective circle, knee-deep in the surf, yelling for its longboats to be brought in closer. at the perimeter of the circle two scrawny soldiers struggled to keep their footing in the pounding surf. they both seemed weak, almost staggering, and when a large wave slammed against their backs, they toppled headlong into the spray. the barbados militiamen were there, pulling them up and dragging them back through the surf to the beach. so, there'll be prisoners on both sides, he realized with relief. now there'll be hostages onshore too. the battle seemed to be thinning now. no one wanted to fight waist deep in the dark churning sea. the barbados militiamen were slowing in their chase, turning back to congratulate themselves that the invasion had been repelled. finally, as the longboats rowed closer and the infantrymen began pulling themselves aboard, the militia halted, content to end the rout by hurling curses above the roar of the surf. "at least we spiked most of the cannon, and damn the rebels." two officers were talking in the bow of the boat. jeremy realized that both sides were planning to claim victory. were there any wars ever "lost," he wondered. "though we've bloody little else to show for a night's work," an oarsman in a dark woolen cap mumbled under his breath, "save this fine new collection of bellies to fill." the man suddenly reached and ripped off a piece of jeremy's lace collar. "this coxcomb'll learn soon enough what 'tis like to live on salt pork and slimy water, same as the rest of us." he flung the lace back in jeremy's direction. "no fancy meat pies and brandied puddings for you, lad. a seaman's fare will soon take the fat out of those cheeks. i'll warrant it'll do you good, young rebel." ahead, the proud bow of the rainbowe loomed above them in the dark, lanterns dangling from its masts. seamen in the longboat tossed a grapple over the bulwark of the mother ship and then a rope ladder was dropped. jeremy felt his hands being untied. next he was urged up the ladder, shoved onto the deck, and immediately surrounded by jeering seamen, shirtless and wearing black stocking caps. "this is the one, sir." powlett was standing over him pointing. next to him stood admiral edmond calvert. "i certainly can see he's a man of breeding, just as you said." calvert studied jeremy's ornate doublet in the flickering lantern light. "aye." powlett's voice suddenly rose. "'twould seem he's the brother of sir anthony walrond. i say we strip him and put him to work carrying slops out of the gun deck, as an example to all royalists." "not for a minute, sir. not so long as i'm in command of this fleet." calvert seemed to bellow at powlett, almost too loudly. a seaman was roughly yanking jeremy to his feet, and calvert turned on him. "you, there. release that young gentleman, unless you'd like a timely taste of the cat on your back." he then approached and bowed ceremoniously. "admiral edmond calvert, sir, your most obedient servant." jeremy stared in confusion and disbelief as the admiral continued, "walrond, is it not?" "jeremy walrond, and . . ." "i'm honored." he turned and signaled to his quartermaster. "have brandy sent to my cabin. perhaps master jeremy walrond would care to share a cup with us." the seamen parted, doffing their caps to the admiral as he escorted jeremy up the companionway toward the great cabin. "i can scarcely tell you, master walrond, how grateful i am to have the privilege of speaking face to face with a man of breeding from this island." he reached to steady jeremy as he lost his footing in a roll of the ship. then he smiled and gestured him ahead, down the lantern-lit walkway toward the stern. "first thing, we'll try and locate some dry breeches for you and a brandy to drive off the chill." he was still smiling as he shoved open a heavy wooden door. the great cabin was empty save for colonel richard morris, now seated at the center table and rubbing the dirt off jeremy's flintlock musket. morris laid it carefully across the table in front of him when he saw them enter. calvert smiled toward him, then continued, "i understand, master walrond, you've already made the acquaintance of our infantry commander." morris rose and nodded as calvert gestured jeremy toward an ornately carved oak chair. "after we've all made ourselves comfortable, master walrond, i hope you and i and captain morris here can become better acquainted. we've got much to talk over tonight." he flashed a quick look at morris as he smiled. "mind you, strictly as gentlemen." chapter twelve katherine was relieved when she finally spotted him standing among the gunners, his face and leather jerkin covered in a dark veneer of grime. if anyone would know the truth behind the rumor spreading over the island, that jeremy walrond had been killed, surely hugh would. she watched for a time, collecting her composure after the ride up from bridgetown, then tied her mare to the trunk of a bullet-scarred palm and began working her way down the sandy slope toward the breastwork. the mid-afternoon sun seared the jamestown emplacement with the full heat of the day, and most of the gunners and militiamen were now shirtless and complaining about the need for rest. as she neared the stone steps leading up to the guns, the air rang with the sounds of hammering, iron against iron, and she realized winston and the men were still working to extract the spikes from the touch holes of the large english culverin. he looked out to study the three english warships offshore, barely visible through the smoke that mantled the bay, then turned to thomas canninge, his master gunner. "i think we've still got range, tom. try another round as soon as you're set and see if you can't hole them one last time." canninge and his gunners were struggling to set one of the dutch demi-culverin, hammering a wooden wedge out from under the breech in order to elevate the muzzle. "aye, looks like they've started coming about, but i think we might still give the whoresons one more taste." all the large cannon in the breastwork had been disabled by the invading roundheads; their infantry had overrun the guns long enough to drive a large iron nail deep into each gun's touch hole, the small opening in the breech through which the powder was ignited. the facility would have been defenseless had not six of the dutch demi- culverin been hauled out of the fort and hidden in a palm grove up the hill just prior to the attack. as soon as the invasion was repelled and the breastwork cleared, winston had summoned teams of horses to bring the small dutch cannon back. his gunners had opened fire on the fleet at the first light of dawn, catching the three english frigates which were still anchored within range and preparing for a long, leisurely shelling of the jamestown settlement. an artillery duel commenced as the warships immediately returned the fire, but when winston's gunners honed their targeting, they had prudently hoisted anchor and retired to the edge of range. now, while the militiamen worked with hammers and drills to finish removing the spikes from the large culverin, the battle had become mostly noise and smoke. "katy, god's life!" he finally noticed her as she emerged at the top of the steps. his startled look quickly melted into a smile. "this is a surprise." "hugh, i came to find out . . ." "everything's fine. we've got two of the spiked guns almost cleared, and if we can keep fire cover with these dutch demi's, we should have all of them back in operation by nightfall." he walked over to where she stood. "so move on back out of range. it'll not be much longer. i think they've decided to give up on the shelling. tom's already holed the _rainbowe _twice with these little nine-pounders. probably didn't do much harm, but at least the roundheads know we're here." he glanced up as a puff of smoke rose from the gun deck of the warship nearest the shore, the _marsten moor_. "_round of fire!"_ before he finished the warning, the men had already dropped their hammers and were plunging behind a pile of sandbags. winston's hard grip sent her sprawling with him behind the mound of earth-brown sacks. he rolled across her, then covered her face with his sweaty jerkin. "this is how we brave fighting men stay alive . . ." an eighteen-pound shot slammed against the base of the breastwork, shaking the brick foundation beneath them. after a few anxious moments, the men clambered nervously over the bags to resume work. she was still brushing the dirt from her riding habit when winston suddenly whirled on her, his eyes fierce. "now you listen to me, katy. you can't stay down here. it's still too damned dangerous. if you want to get killed, there're lots of better ways." his back was toward the sea when the second burst of black smoke erupted from the gun deck of the _marsten moor_. "hugh!" without thinking she reached for him. together they rolled twice across the soft earth, into the safety of the shielding bags. as they lay next to the militiamen and gunners, a round of cannon fire clipped the side of a battlement next to where they had been standing and hurtled a deadly spray of brick fragments into the sandbags. several shards of brick ripped into the cloth and showered them with white grains. he seemed embarrassed now as he slipped his arm under her and quietly hoisted her to her feet. around them the militiamen were again returning to work on the disabled cannon. "i don't know whether to thank you, katy, or order you clapped in the brig for coming here in the first place. but either way, you can't stay. so kindly wait up the hill till . . ." the sound of a forceful hammer stroke followed by a clear ring produced a cheer from the group of men who had been diligently hammering on one of the spiked cannon. "got her cleared, yor worship," one of the militiamen yelled toward winston. "fit as the day she was cast." he abruptly turned and headed through the crowd to inspect the breech of the gun. after scrutinizing the reopened touch hole, he motioned toward a waiting gunner. "ladle in about five pounds of powder and see how she fires." tom canninge called from the other end of the breastwork, "i've got the altitude about set on this little nine-pounder, cap'n. it's the best of the lot." "then see if you can't put a round through her portside gun deck." his voice was increasingly strained. "good as done." canninge ordered the demi-culverin shifted a few degrees to the left, then motioned for a linstock and lightly applied the burning end to the touch hole. the gun roared and kicked backward in a cloud of dense, oily smoke. while the men squinted against the sun to watch, a large hole splintered open along the portside bow of the _marsten moor_, just above the waterline. moments later a mate in the maintop began to unfurl tops'ls, and after that the mainsail dropped in preparation to make for open sea. "let's give her a sendoff, masters." winston led the cheers, and katherine realized he was deliberately trying to boost morale. next he yelled down the sweating line of men. "hear me, now. our good master canninge has just earned us all a tot of kill-devil. by chance i think a keg may have arrived this morning, on a cart that found its way up from bridgetown. we should take a look up by that large tree on the left." he paused and waited for the hoorahs to subside. "under my command, the men always drink first, then officers." he waved a dismissal. "as you will, masters." as the gunners and militiamen threw down their tools and began to bustle in the direction of the liquor, he turned to katherine and his voice dropped. "now that we're both still alive, maybe we can talk. why don't we try and find some shade ourselves?" "you seem exhausted." as she looked at him, realizing that even his brown eyes seemed pale, she found herself almost reluctant to raise the matter of jeremy. maybe he had enough to worry about. "bone-tired is more the word. but we've got the fleet out of range for a while. now we just have to worry about what they'll think to try next." hearing the open concern in his voice, she wrapped a consoling arm about his waist as they walked down the stone steps of the abandoned breastwork. "but the invasion failed. this round is won, isn't it?" "if you can call that massacre last night 'winning,' then i suppose you could say so." he heaved a weary sigh. "planters make poor soldiers, katy. as best i can tell, we lost eighteen men killed outright. and a lot more were wounded. some of them will doubtless die too, given this heat. so all we did was drive the roundheads back to sea for a while, but at a terrible cost." he looked down. "they took some prisoners. two longboats full. probably about thirty men, though we don't really know yet who's captured, or missing . . . or just gone off to hide." "well, that's not so many." "true enough. we managed to take a few prisoners ourselves, maybe half a dozen or so. . . . i guess maybe you didn't hear. jeremy walrond has disappeared. we think he was taken prisoner." "thank god. then he's not dead." she stopped still. "but . . . captured? poor jeremy. he'd probably sooner have been killed. he was so proud." "anthony's proud too, and he's taking it very hard. when we heard jeremy was missing, i offered to take the command here, to let him go back to bridgetown and see if he was with the wounded. then somebody suggested that jeremy probably had surrendered, and anthony threatened to kill the man. it was plain he needed some rest." she stood silent for a moment, then looked away sadly. "what do you think will happen now?" winston followed her gaze, out toward the horizon. "maybe everybody will try to negotiate some more. it's getting complicated all of a sudden, with prisoners now part of it. unfortunately we didn't manage to take any officers, just infantry--most of them so weak from scurvy the fleet's probably just as glad to have them gone, before they died anyway. " "what'll happen to jeremy? you don't suppose they'd hang him." "i doubt that." he waved his hand. "so far it's a civilized war. but they may ask a price to send him back if they find out he's anthony's brother. it's very bad." "what do you suppose we can do?" "not much i can think of. maybe they'll just try to wait us out a bit." he reached down and lightly brushed some of the dirt and sand from her hair. then he wiped his brow, glanced at the sun, and urged her on, toward the grove of trees. "i'd guess it's a matter now of who can hold out longest." he slipped his arm about her waist and glanced down. "and how're you holding up, katy?" "i suppose i'm fine." she leaned against him, trying to ignore the heat and the stares of some of the men. finally she gave a mirthless laugh. "no, do you want the truth? i'm more worried than ever. isn't it odd? just when we seem to be standing firm." she looked up at his smoke- smeared cheeks. "can we go hide? away from here? i think your morale could do with a boost too." "you're looking at a somewhat disoriented breastwork commander. make that 'acting commander.' but anthony's supposed to be back around now to relieve me. whenever he gets here, we can ride back over to bridgetown, if i can manage to locate a horse." he helped her down beneath the shade of a spreading manchineel tree, kicking away several of the poisonous apples that lay rotting around the trunk. then he flopped down beside her. "this is one of the hardest things i've ever tried, katy, holding defenses together when half the men truly don't care a damn whether we win or lose. but it's the only thing i know to do. tell me if you can think of anything better." "is that all you've thought about lately, hugh?" she ran a hand along his thigh. "it's all i care to think about for the time being." she pulled back sharply. "well, commander, please don't think i have nothing else to occupy my mind with except you. but that doesn't mean i've just forgotten you entirely." "i haven't forgotten you either, katy. god's life!" he picked up a twig and tapped it against one of the poison apples. "tell me, what does the governor of barbados think about his only daughter keeping company with the likes of me?" "i do what i choose." she pressed against him. "anyway, it's not what he says that troubles me. it's what i say to myself. i've always been able to control my feelings. but, somehow, not with you. and i hate myself for it. i truly do." "i'm probably a poor choice for the object of your feelings." she laughed and squeezed his hand. "god help me, as if i didn't already know that. who'd ever have thought i'd be going about half in love with a man like you." "i thought you once said you weren't interested in falling in love." he kissed her lightly. "probably a safe idea. i don't know how many of us are going to live through this." before she could respond, he rose on one elbow and pointed toward a pair of horses approaching from the south. "it looks like we may get back to bridgetown after all. i think that's briggs, and he's brought anthony with him. it's odds they both distrust me only slightly more than they hate each other, but it's enough to make them allies for a while. well, they're welcome to have back this command any time they want it." "then we can ride in together?" "i don't think anthony's going to like that idea, but it's your affair. god knows i know better than to try and give you advice." she laughed. "then you're starting to understand me better than i thought." "let me just have a word with anthony about the condition of the ordnance. and make some gunnery assignments." he began to pull himself up. "then maybe we'll retire down to the _defiance _for a while. i've missed her." he stooped and kissed the top of her head as he rose to his feet. "and i've missed you, too. truly." anthony walrond reined in his dun mare and stared dumbly toward the shore as he and briggs emerged from the trees. the night before it had been a melee of muskets, commands, screams; now it was a smoky landscape strewn with lost helmets and bandoliers, and stained with dark splotches where men had fallen. in its peacefulness it made the battle seem scarcely more than a violent dream, a lost episode that existed only in man's flawed memory, not in time. battles, he reflected, were always a matter of chance. you plan strategies for days, devise elaborate tactics, try to guess what you would do if you were the foe. but in the end little of it really matters. a man panics, or a horse stumbles, or your musket fails to fire, and suddenly nothing happens the way you thought. it becomes a contest of bravery, luck, happenstance. whether you win or lose, it's likely as not for reasons you never envisioned. in a way, last night's episode was no different. dick morris and his roundheads lost more men than they should have. since they only expected militia at the breastwork, the parapet caught them by surprise. also, they seemed deceived at first by the feigned retreat, the bird limping and flopping away from her nest to lure the fox. except this time the fox suddenly grew wise. the limping bird somehow bungled its part, caused the fox to smell a trap. which left no recourse but to launch a bloody counterattack directly on the breastwork. jeremy. they claimed he was surrounded and taken while reloading his musket. holding his position. but why? he knew the orders. he disobeyed. he disobeyed. anthony was still gripping the reins, his knuckles white, when briggs broke the silence. "as usual, it's a good thing i rode over to check. where're the men? is that them drinking in the shade, whilst the breastwork is left unattended?" he drew his horse alongside anthony's and squinted against the sun. "winston has a peculiar idea of discipline, by my life." "these men are not a gang of your african cane cutters. he's got enough sense to know he can't work them all day in the sun. i'll wager full half of them would just as soon not be here at all." "now you're beginning to sound like him." briggs spotted the tall seaman walking up the shore and reined around. "and in truth, sir, i'm starting to question whether either of you should be kept in charge of this breastwork." "well, after last night, i propose you could just as well put a scullery wench in command here at jamestown, for all the difference it would make." walrond was studying the breastwork as they neared the shore. "there's not likely to be another attempt at a landing along here. it'd be too costly and morris knows it. no commander in the english army would be that foolhardy. doubtless he thought he'd managed to spike all our ordnance, and he just planned to sit back and shell the settlement here all day today. it looks as if they took a few rounds of shot this morning, but the shelling seems over. i'd guess winston's lads managed to hold their own." "aye, god be praised for the dutchmen and their demi- culverin." briggs touched his black hat toward the approaching figure. "your servant, captain. how goes it?" "our gunners put some shot into the _rainbowe _and the _marsten moor_ before they weighed anchor and made way out to sea. i'd venture the better part of the ordnance here should be serviceable again by nightfall." he nodded to walrond. "any news of the prisoners?" "this morning all the field commanders brought in reports." the royalist's voice was matter-of-fact. "as best we can tell, twenty-nine of our men were taken out to the _rainbowe _last night." "and jeremy was among their number, the way somebody said? there was no mistake about that?" "it appears likely." he looked away, to cover his embarrassment, and spotted katherine walking toward them up the beach. he adjusted his eyepatch in anger and glanced back sharply at winston. could it be the rumors were all too true? if so, then damn him. damn her. "i trust miss bedford has already been informed?" "a few minutes ago." "well, sir, i fancy her dismay did not go uncomforted." he swung down from the saddle. "i can assume duties here now, and relieve you, sir. she has to be taken home. this is scarcely the place for a woman." "you're welcome to have it. i just need to make a few gunnery assignments of my own men. but i'd advise you to let the lads cool off a bit before starting them working again." he turned to hold the reins of briggs' horse as the planter began dismounting. "one other thing. before i go, i'd like a word with you. master briggs. considering what's happened, i'd like it if you'd convey a message from me to the council." "speak your mind, sir." briggs eased himself out of the saddle and dropped down. his heavy boots settled into the loose sand. "i lost three seamen last night, good men, when we charged the breastwork. they'll be buried tomorrow with all the others killed." "it was a hard night for us all, sir." "don't try my patience, master briggs. i'm not in the mood." he paused to wait as katherine joined the circle. "katherine, your servant." anthony coldly doffed his hat in greeting. "here to review the militia?" "i came to find out about jeremy." "i'm still hoping there must be some mistake." he abruptly turned away. "well, now that i know, i suppose i'll go back." she looked at him, elegant and cool even now, and told herself she should be more embarrassed than she felt, having him see her here with hugh. what was he really thinking? "katy, wait. i'm glad you're here." winston motioned her forward, ignoring anthony's pained look. "perhaps it'd be well for you to hear this too. maybe you can convey what i want to say to the assembly, for whatever good it may do." he turned back. "i want to tell you all that i've concluded this militia is untrained, undisciplined, and, what's worse, uninterested in getting shot all to hell defending barbados. i hear them asking each other why they're fighting at all." "we're holding them off nicely, sir," briggs interjected. "i'm proud of . . ." "hear me. i tell you we were just lucky last night. morris' men might well have held the breastwork if they hadn't panicked. the next time 'round we may not be as fortunate." he fixed briggs squarely. "what you and the council have to decide is whether you're willing to do what's necessary to win." "we're doing everything we can." "it's not enough. next time, morris will doubtless try and land every man he has. when he does, i wonder if this militia will even bother to meet them." "i don't agree with you there, sir." briggs was frowning. "but then i suppose you figure you've got some idea nobody else has thought of yet." "do you want to hear it?" "_i'd _like to hear it." anthony walrond had finished hobbling his mare and stepped next to them. "all right. first, i say prune out the small freeholders, send any of them home who want to go." he turned to walrond. "then get rid of any of the royalists who don't have battle experience. they want to give orders, but they don't know what they're about. the rest of the men don't like it." he paused carefully. "i don't like it either." "you're presumptuous, sir, if i may say." anthony glared. "you may say what you please. but if you don't do something about morale, this war's as good as over." "it most certainly will be, if we dismiss most of the militia, which is what it would mean if we did what you just said." "i didn't say you don't need a militia. you just need men in it who're ready to stand and fight." briggs examined him quizzically. "but if we dismissed all these half- hearted freeholders, there'd be scarcely any free men left on the island to take their place." "that's right. you'd have to make some free men." he gestured toward the hills inland. "do you realize there're hundreds of first class fighting men here now, men with battle experience who could massacre morris' forces if given a chance? and, more to the point, if you gave them something to fight for." "who do you mean?" "you know who. these new africans. they've got battle experience, i can tell just by looking at them. i don't know how many of them have ever handled a musket, but i'd wager a lot of them can shoot. make them part of your militia, and morris' infantrymen'll never know what hit them." "i'm damned if we'll arm these savages and let them loose on the island. next thing, they'd try and take over. it'd be the end of slavery. which means the end of sugar." "doesn't have to be. let them work for wage and start treating them like men. then, instead of worrying about having them at your back, you'd have them holding your defenses." "that's about the damnedest idea i've ever come across." briggs spat into the sand. "then you've got a choice. you can have slavery, or you can win independence. either you get them to help, or you end up a slave to the commonwealth yourself." he glanced at katherine, then back at briggs as he continued. "and the same goes for your indentures. how in hell do you expect this island to hold out against england when half the men here would just as soon see you lose? but give the slaves, and the indentures, a stake in this, and you'll have a good ten or fifteen thousand fighting men here. morris has maybe three, four hundred. he'll never take barbados. i want you to tell that to the council." "i'll be party to no such undertaking." briggs squinted through the sunshine. "then give my regards to the admiral when you sit down to sign the surrender. i give you a week at most." he turned and touched katherine's arm. "katy, if you'd like me to see you home, then wait over there by that shade tree while i make gunnery assignments." atiba moved noiselessly along the wet sand of the shore, crouched low, the wind in his face, just as he had once stalked a wounded leopard in the forest three days north of ife. this part of the harbor was almost deserted now; only two frigates remained, and they were both lodged in the sand, immobile. one was the great, stinking ship that had brought him to this forlorn place. he hated it, had vowed never to be on it again. furthermore, tonight its decks were crowded with drinking, singing _branco_. the other one would have to supply what he needed-- the one belonging to the tall ingles _branco_ with the mark on his cheek. he secured the stolen machete in his waist-wrap and waded into the water. when the first salty wave curved over him, he leaned into it with his shoulder and began to swim--out away from the shore, circling around to approach the ship from the side facing the sea. as he swam, he thought again of what he must do. it was not a mission of his choosing. he had finally agreed to come because there was no other way to placate the elders. until last night he had not realized how much they feared the arms of the _branco_. . . "we must be like the bulrush, not like brittle grass," tahajo, the oldest and hence presumed the wisest, had declared. "a bulrush mat will bend. a grass mat breaks to pieces. do not be brittle grass, atiba, be like the bulrush. do what we ask of you." "tahajo's wisdom is known throughout ife." obewole, the strongest of them all, had next conceded his own fear. "remember it's said you cannot go to war with only a stick in your hand; you must carry a crossbow." atiba had intended the meeting in his hut to be their final council of war. last evening was carefully chosen, auspicious. it was the fourth night of the new moon on the island of barbados. in ife it would have been the fourth day of a new month, and also the last day of the week-- a cycle of four days dedicated to major gods of the yoruba pantheon; shango, obatala, orunmila, and ogun. the appearance of the new moon was important and signified much. by telling the beginning of the month, it scheduled which days would be market days, which were sacred, what god was responsible for the birth of a child. they had waited quietly in his thatched hut as twilight settled across the fields of cane. swallows twittered among the tall palms, and the half-light was spotted with darting bats. the heat of the long day still immersed the hillside. on the far western horizon, where the sea disappeared into the caribbean mist, three of the great ships of the ingles fleet had begun preparing their sails. they too seemed to be waiting for the appearance of the new yoruba moon. he began with a review of their weapons. there would be difficulties. since the cane knives had been removed from the slave quarters on most of the plantations and secured in the great house, it would be necessary to break in and take them back, which meant the advantage of surprise would be lost. for spears, they would have to try and seize some of the pikes the _branco_ now had in readiness to protect the island from the fleet. again that meant bloodshed. also, their numbers were still uncertain. all the yoruba had agreed to rise up, and final preparations had been coordinated across the island using the _iya ilu_ drum. but the other men of africa? what of them? the ibo nursed historic hatreds toward the yoruba, and their response to the plan for rebellion had been to shift on their feet, spit on the ground, and agree to nothing. there were also ashanti and mandingo. these he trusted even less than the ibo. command would be difficult: there were too many languages, too many loyalties, too many ancient grievances. the men in the hut finally concluded that only the yoruba could be relied upon. when the day of war comes, you only trust your own blood, your own gods. after the moon had disappeared, he'd cast the cowries, praying ogun would presage the defeat of the _branco_. the men required an omen. and an omen there had been. at that exact moment the silence of the night was rent by sounds of gunfire rising up from the western shore, faint staccato pops through the trees. they were as drumbeats that carried no words, yet their message was unmistakable. ogun, the god of war, had spoken--not through the pattern in the cowries on a tray, but with his own voice. fear suddenly gripped the men in the hut. what was ogun's purpose in answering the cowries this way? thus their council of war had dissolved in meaningless talk and confusion. finally the misgivings of the elders emerged. there must be, they said, no rising against the _branco _unless success was assured. the elder tahajo recalled the famous proverb: _aki ida owo le ohun ti ako le igbe_--"a man should not attempt to raise up something he cannot lift." the other men had nodded gravely, taking his mouthing of this commonplace to demonstrate great sagacity. then young derin, in a flagrant breach of etiquette amongst a council of elders, had dared to cite an opposing parable: _bi eya ba di ekun, eran ni ikpa dze_--"when the wild cat becomes a leopard, it can devour great beasts." we must become brave like the leopard, he urged. when the _branco _see our boldness they will quake with fear as we go to war against them. tahajo had listened tolerantly, then countered again: _alak-atanpo oju ko le ita eran pa_--"he who has only his eyebrow for a crossbow can never kill an animal." so it had continued long into the night. atiba had no choice but to wait until the elders decided. finally they agreed that ogun would have them go to war only if they had weapons to match those of the _branco_. that was the message in the gunfire that had erupted the moment the cowries were cast. atiba must assure them he could find muskets, or there would be no rebellion. . . . he stroked silently on through the surf. now the dark outline of the _branco's_ ship loomed above him, still, deserted. soon he would find what he had come to learn. he grasped a salt-encrusted rope ladder which dangled from the side and pulled out of the water. he did not bother using the rungs; instead he lifted himself directly up. his feet were noiseless as he dropped onto the deck. a quick reconnaissance revealed only one sentry, a fat _branco _snoring loudly in a chair on the high deck at the back of the ship. he slipped up the companionway, gripping each weathered board with his toes, and stood over the man, wondering if he should kill him, lest he waken suddenly and sound an alarm. then he remembered the words of shango that night in the mill house. it would be a bad omen to spill innocent blood before the rebellion even began. shango had declared he would only countenance the killing of men who threatened harm. also, lying beside the man was an empty flask, which surely had contained the strong wine made from cane. this snoring _branco _would not soon awaken. he turned and inched his way back down the companion-way. the only sounds now were the gentle splash of surf against the side of the ship and the distant chirp of crickets from the shore. he moved stealthily along the creaking boards until he reached the locked door at the front of the ship, the place where the _branco _captains stored their weapons. he tried to still his heart, feeling it begin to race with anticipation. if there were weapons here, muskets or pikes, they would be easy to seize when the moment came to rise up. there would be no need to storm the plantation houses for guns and spears, and their plans could proceed in total secrecy till the moment the _branco _slaveholders were surprised and cut down. he recalled the rumor that the _branco _who owned this ship had bought and freed two hundred white slaves, and then had given some of them weapons to fight the warriors of the ingles fleet. surely he had more muskets and pikes than any of the _branco _planters. how many would be left? he slipped the machete from his waistband and wedged it silently under a hinge on the heavy wooden door. the wood was old and the nails pulled easily. when the three hinges had been removed, he laid the machete on the deck and lifted the door around. the interior of the fo'c'sle was dark, but he dared not try to make a light. the risk was too great that he might set off any gunpowder stored here. instead he felt his way forward. the space was crowded with racks, and in them were rows of new pikes and half-pikes, hundreds. then his hand touched a row of long steel cylinders. musket barrels. ogun had answered their prayers. this ship had an arsenal that would equip an entire army, a cache that would ensure their victory. the second week following, seven days hence, the time sacred to ogun, he would bring the men and they would overwhelm the ship, seize the weapons. . . . he had turned to grope his way back to the deck when he first saw the two silhouettes against the dim light of the doorway. a tall man was there, blocking his exit, and next to him was the outline of a _branco _woman. "john, what in the name of hell are you doing in the fo'c'sle?" the voice sounded tired and annoyed. "is this how you stand watch?" "hugh, take care." it was the voice of the _branco _woman he remembered from the first night in the boiling house. he froze against a wall and reached for his machete. it was missing. like a fool he'd left it outside. quietly he lifted one of the pikes from the rack and inched slowly toward the figures in the doorway. through the dark came a shout from the other end of the deck. the sleeping _branco _had awakened. "god's wounds, cap'n. i'm watching this ship like a hawk over a henhouse. there's no need to be carry in' on." the man laughed. "lest you upset the lady." "john, is that you?" the tall man's voice quickened. "then, by jesus, who's . . .?" atiba lunged toward the doorway, his pike aimed at the tall shadow. the man had already feinted back against the shrouds. he carried no sword, but a pistol had appeared in his right hand, as though by magic. with the other he shoved the _branco _woman back against the shrouds, out of reach. the pike missed him, tangled in a knot of lines dangling from the mast, and was lost. then the glint of his machete caught atiba's notice and he dropped toward the darkness of the deck. he rolled twice, bringing himself within reach of its wooden handle. he was on his feet, swinging for the man, when he heard the crack of the pistol and felt a tremor in his wrist. the tip of the machete blade sang into the night, but the stump was still left, and still deadly. now the fight would be at close quarters. he told himself he welcomed that--and sprang for the dark silhouette. he was thrusting the blade upward, toward the tall man's neck, when he heard an unexpected click from the pistol barrel, followed by a hard voice. it was a threat that needed no translation. "no, by god. or i'll blow your bloody head off." the hot muzzle of the pistol was against his cheek. but his blade was against the man's throat. "_meu deus_. briggs' yoruba." the man quickly switched to portuguese. "_felicitacao_, senhor. you're every bit as fast as i'd thought. shall we call it a draw?" it was the _branco_, the one who had freed his slaves. the last man on the island he wished to kill. shango would be incensed. "i think one of us must die." he held the broken blade hard against the flesh, and he could almost feel the pulse of blood just beneath the skin. "it's both of us, or neither, by jesus. think about that." "your pistol had only one bullet. it is gone." "take a look and you'll see there're two barrels." the tall man had not wavered. "shall i just blow the thievin' bastard to hell, cap'n?" it was the voice of the man who had been asleep. from the corner of his eye atiba could see him standing by the foremast. there was the click of a flintlock being cocked. "no, john. he's like to slit my throat in the bargain with what's left of his god-cursed machete." the words were in english. then the man switched back to portuguese. "a trade, senhor. a life for a life." "in ife we say we cannot dwell in a house together without speaking to one another. but if you betray me, you will answer for it to all my clan. remember that." the broken machete slowly pulled away, then dropped to the deck. "hold the musket on him, john. i don't know whether to trust these africans." again portuguese. "life for life. agreed." he lowered the pistol, then slipped it into his belt. with an easy motion he pulled down a lantern hanging from the shrouds and struck a flint to it. a warm glow illuminated the open door of the fo'c'sle, and the tanned face of the _branco _woman. "now. atiba the yoruba, you be gone and i'll forget you were ever here. briggs would likely have you whipped into raw meat for his dogs if he ever found out about this." the _branco _was looking into his eyes. "but you probably already know that. i salute your courage, senhor. truth is, i once thought about having you help me." "help you?" he studied the _branco's _face. "for what purpose?" "if you weren't too stubborn to take orders, i'd planned to train you into a first-class fighting man. maybe make you second-in-command for a little war of my own. against the spaniards." the man was outlined in the pale light. "i'd hoped we might fight together, instead of against each other." "that is a strange idea for a _branco_." he was studying the scar on the tall man's cheek. "but then you have the mark on your cheek like the clan sign of a yoruba. perhaps the place you got it taught you something of brotherhood as well." "it was a long time past, though maybe it did at that. i do know i'm still a brother to any man i like. you were once in that category, senhor, till you came on my ship trying to knife me. now you'd best tell me what you're doing here." "i wanted to see your ship." "well, you've seen it. you also tore off some hinges." "i will replace them for you." he smiled. "wrapping a razor preserves its sharpness." the man seemed momentarily startled; then a look of realization spread through his eyes. finally he turned and spoke in english to the fat _branco _holding the musket. "john, fetch a hammer and some fresh nails from below decks. you know where ship's carpenter keeps them." "what're you saying, cap'n?" the fat _branco_ had not moved. "you'd have me go aft? an' the musket i'm holdin' on the bastard? who's to handle that whilst i'm gone?" "i'll take it." the _branco _woman stepped forward. "give it to her." "you'd best keep a close eye, cap'n." the fat man hesitated. "i think this one'd be a near match for you. . . ." "just fetch the hammer, john." "aye." he reluctantly passed the musket and began backing slowly toward the hatch leading to the lower deck. atiba watched him disappear into the dark, then turned back to winston. "you do not own slaves, senhor. yet you do nothing about those on this island who do." "what goes on here is not my affair. other men can do what they like." "in ife we say, 'he who claps hands for the fool to dance is no better than the fool.'" he glanced back at the arsenal stored in the dark room behind him. "if you do nothing to right a wrong, then are you not an accomplice?" the man suddenly seemed to understand everything. without a word he walked over and shoved the door against the open fo'c'sle. "let me give you some wisdom from this side of the wide ocean, my friend. i think all the drumming i've been hearing, and now this, means you're planning some kind of revolt. i'm not going to help you, and i'm damned if you're going to use any of my muskets." he reached up and adjusted the lantern. "i've done everything i can to end slavery. nobody on this island listens to me. so whatever you do is up to you." "but without weapons, we have no chance of winning our freedom." "you've got no chance in any case. but if you steal some of these muskets of mine, you'll just manage to kill a lot of people before you have to surrender and be hanged." he watched the fat man emerge from the hatch. "i'd hate to see you hanged, atiba the yoruba." "what's the savage got to say for himself, cap'n?" the man was carrying a hammer. "was he plannin' to make off with a few o' those new flintlocks we got up at nevis?" "i think he was just exploring, john." the words were in english now. "help him put the door back and show him how to fix the hinges." "as you will, cap'n. but keep an eye on him, will you? he's like to kill the both of us if he takes a mind." "katy, keep him covered." "god, but he's frightening. what were you two talking about?" "we'd best go into that later." he glanced at mewes. "john, give him the hammer." the fat _branco _reluctantly surrendered the tool, then warily reached to hold the hinges in place. there was a succession of quick, powerful strokes, and the door was aligned and swinging better than before. "now go on back to briggs' plantation. and pray to whatever gods you have that he doesn't find out you were gone tonight." he picked up the broken machete and passed it over. "take this. you're going to need it." "you know we will need more than this." atiba reached for the handle, turned the broken blade in the light, then slipped it into his waistband. "that's right. what you need is to leam how to wait. this island is about to be brought to its knees by the new government of england. in a way, it's thanks to you. when the government on this island falls, something may happen about slavery, though i'm not sure what." he took down the lantern from the shrouds. "but if you start killing whites now, i can assure you you're not apt to live very long, no matter who rules." "i will not continue to live as a slave." "i can understand that. but you won't be using my flintlocks whilst getting yourself killed." he held the lantern above the rope ladder and gestured for atiba to climb down into the shallow surf. "never, ever try stealing muskets from my ship. mark it well." atiba threw one leg over the gunwale and grasped a deadeye to steady himself. "i think you will help us when the time comes. you speak like a yoruba." he slipped over the side with a splash, and vanished into the dark. "god's blood, cap'n, but that's a scary one." mewes stared after him nervously. "i got the feelin' he seemed to know you." "i've seen him a time or two before." he retrieved the musket from katherine and handed it back to mewes. then he doused the lantern. "come on, katy. let's have a brandy." "i could use two." as they entered the companionway leading aft to the great cabin he called back, "by the way, john, it'd be just as well not to mention to anybody that he was here. can i depend on you?" "aye, as you will." he slipped his arm about katherine's waist and pushed open the door of the cabin. it was musty and hot. "i've got a feeling that african thinks he's coming back for the muskets, katy, but i'll not have it." "what'll you do?" she reached back and began to loosen the knot on her bodice, sensing a tiny pounding in her chest. "i plan to see to it he gets a surprise instead." he lit the lamp, then pulled off his sweaty jerkin and tossed it into the corner. "enough. let's have a taste of you." he circled his arms around her and pulled her next to him. as he kissed her, he reached back and started unlacing her bodice. then he whispered in her ear. "welcome back aboard." chapter thirteen with every step jeremy took, the wooded trail leading inland from oistins bay felt more perilous, more alien. why did the rows of stumps, once so familiar, no longer seem right? why had he forgotten the spots in the path where the puddles never dried between rains, only congealed to turgid glue? he had ridden it horseback many a time, but now as he trudged up the slope, his boots still wet from the surf, he found he could remember almost nothing at all. this dark tangle of palms and bramble could scarcely be the direction home. but the way home it was. the upland plantation of anthony walrond was a wooded, hundred and eighty acre tract that lay one mile inland from the settlement around oistins bay--itself a haphazard collection of clapboard taverns and hewn-log tobacco sheds on the southern, windward side of the island. the small harbor at oistins was host to an occasional dutch frigate or a small merchant vessel from virginia or new england, but there was not enough tobacco or cotton to justify a major landing. it was, however, the ideal place to run a small shallop ashore from a ship of the fleet. he reached a familiar arch of palms and turned right, starting the long climb along the weed-clogged path between the trees that led up to the house. as he gripped his flintlock and listened to the warbling of night birds and the menacing clatter of land crabs, he reflected sadly that he was the only man on barbados who knew precisely what lay in store. he had received a full briefing from the admiral of the fleet aboard the _rainbowe_. what would anthony do when he heard? he tried to sort out once more what had happened, beginning with that evening, now only two days past, when admiral calvert had passed him the first tankard. . . . "if i may presume to say, it's a genuine honor to share a cup with you, master walrond." calvert's dark eyes had seemed to burn with determination as he eased back into his sea chair and absently adjusted his long white cuffs. he'd been wearing a black doublet with wide white epaulettes and a pristine bib collar, all fairly crackling with starch. "and to finally have a word with a man of breeding from this infernal settlement." jeremy remembered taking a gingerly sip of the brandy, hoping perhaps it might somehow ease the pain of his humiliation. still ringing in his ears were the screams of dying men, the volleys of musket fire, the curses of the roundhead infantry in the longboat. but the liquor only served to sharpen his horrifying memory of the man he had killed less than an hour before, his finger on the trigger of the ornate flintlock now resting so innocently on the oak table between them. "the question we all have to ask ourselves is how long this damnable state of affairs can be allowed to go on. englishmen killing their own kind." calvert had posed the question more to the air than to the others in the room. colonel morris, his face still smeared with powder smoke, had shifted his glance back and forth between them and said nothing. he clearly was impatient at being summoned to the great cabin when there were wounded to attend. why, jeremy had found himself wondering, was morris present at all? where was the brash vice admiral, the man who had wanted him imprisoned below decks? what was the hidden threat behind calvert's too-cordial smiles? but the admiral betrayed nothing as he continued. "the civil war is over, may almighty god forgive us for it, and i say it's past time we started healing the wounds." jeremy had listened as the silence once more settled around them. for the first time he'd become aware of the creaking of the boards as the _rainbowe _groaned at anchor. after so much death, he'd found himself thinking, you begin to notice the quietness more. your senses are honed. could it be even creatures of the field are the same; does the lowly hare feel life more exquisitely when, hounds baying on its scent, it hovers quivering in the grass? he wondered what he would do if the musket on the table were primed and in his hands. would he raise it up and destroy this man who had come to conquer the last safe place on earth left for him? as he tried to still the painful throb in his temples, calvert continued. "i'm a plain-speaking seaman, master walrond, nothing more. though my father served in your late king's court, watching his catholic queen prance amongst her half-dressed jezebels, i never had any part of it. but i've seen dead men enough whose spilled blood is on that king's head, for all his curls and silks." calvert had suddenly seemed to remember himself and rose to pour a tankard for morris. he took another sip from his own, then turned back. "and there's apt to be more killing now, here in the americas, before this affair's finished. but to what purpose, sirrah? i ask you. we both know the island can't hold out forever. we've got her bottled now with this blockade, and the bottle's corked. what's more, i know for a fact you're all but out of meat and bread, whilst we've made free with all the victuals these interloping hollanders in carlisle bay kindly had waiting to supply us. so my men'll be feasting on capon and port whilst your planters are starving, with nothing in the larder save tobacco and cane. you've never troubled to grow enough edibles here, since you could always buy from these hollanders, and now it's going to be your downfall." calvert's eyes had flashed grimly in the lantern light. when morris had stirred, as though to speak, he'd silenced the commander with a brisk wave of his hand, then continued. "but we're not planning just to wait and watch, that i can promise you. colonel morris here will tell you he's not going to sleep easy till this island is his. at the break of day he'll commence his first shelling, right here at jamestown where he's spiked the ordnance. you'll see that spot, breastwork and the rest, turned to rubble by nightfall tomorrow. no, colonel morris is not of my mind; he's not a country angler who'd sit and wait for his line to bob. he's a man who'll wade in and take his perch with both hands." calvert had sighed and risen to open the windows at the stern. cool air washed over them, bringing with it the moans of wounded men from the deck above. jeremy noted the windows had been severely damaged by cannon fire and temporarily repaired with wood rather than leaded glass. calvert listened glumly for a moment, then shoved the windows closed and turned back. "but what's the point of it, master walrond, by all that's holy?" "you'll never take barbados, blockade or no." jeremy had tried to meet the glare in calvert's eyes. "we'll never surrender to cromwell and this rabble army." "ah, but take you we will, sir, or i'm not a christian. the only question is when." he had paused to frown. "and how? am i to be forced to humble this place till there's nothing left, to shell her ports, burn her crops? i daresay you're not fully aware what's in store for this island. but it's time somebody heard, and listened. i came here with peace in mind, praying your governor and assembly would have the sense to recognize the commonwealth. if i was met with defiance, my orders were to bring barbados to its knees, man and boy. to see every pocket of resistance ferreted out. more than that, you'd best know i'll not be staying here forever. there'll be others to follow, and that young stalwart you met out on decks, my vice admiral, may well claim the only way to keep the island cooperative is to install a permanent garrison. believe me when i tell you he'd as soon hang a royalist as bag a partridge. think on that, what it's apt to be like here if you force me to give him free rein." jeremy had felt calvert's eyes bore into him. "but, master walrond, i think barbados, the americas, deserve better." he glanced toward morris. "and i'll warrant our commander here feels much the same. neither of us wants fire and sword for this place. nor, i feel safe in thinking, does anyone on this island. but someone here has got to understand our purpose and harken to reason, or it's going to be damnation for your settlement and for the rest of the americas." "then that's what it'll be, if you think you've got the means to attempt it." jeremy had pulled himself upright in the chair. "but you try landing on this island again and we'll meet you on the beaches with twice the men you've got, just like tonight." "but why be so foolhardy, lad? i'll grant there're those on this island who have no brief for the commonwealth, well and good, but know this-- all we need from the americas is cooperation, plain as that; we don't ask servitude." he lowered his voice. "in god's name, sir, this island need merely put an end to its rebellious talk, agree to recognize parliament, and we can dispense with any more bloodletting." then calvert had proceeded to outline a new offer. its terms were more generous--he'd hammered home time and again--than anyone on the island had any cause to expect. the point he had emphasized most strongly was that jeremy walrond stood at the watershed of history. on one side was war, starvation, ignominy; on the other, moderation. and a new future. . . . ahead the log gables of the walrond plantation house rose out of the darkness. on his left, through the trees, were the thatched lean-to's of the indentures. a scattering of smoky fires told him some of the servants or their women were still about, frying corn mush for supper. the indentures' few remaining turkeys and pigs were penned now and the pathway was mostly quiet. the only sounds came from clouds of stinging gnats, those pernicious merrywings whose bite could raise a welt for a whole day, their tiny bugles sending a chorus through the dark. in the evening stillness the faint stench of rotting corn husks wafted from a pile in which pigs rooted behind the indentures' quarters, while the more pungent odor of human wastes emanated from the small vegetable patches farther back. he heard occasional voices in the dark, curses from the men and the irish singsong of women, but no one in the indenture compound saw or heard him pass. ahead the half-shuttered windows of the plantation house glimmered with the light of candles. it meant, he realized with relief, that anthony was home, that he'd lit the pewter candelabra hanging over their pine dining table. he stopped for a moment to think and to catch his breath, then moved on past the front portico, toward the servants' entrance at the rear of the house. there was good reason not to announce his arrival publicly. what he had to say was for anthony, and anthony alone. as he passed one of the windows he could just make out a figure seated at the table, tankard in hand. the man wore a white kerchief around his neck and a doublet of brown silk, puffed at the shoulders. his dark brown hat rested next to him on the table, its white plume glistening in the dull light. as he pushed on, he noticed that the chimney of the log cookroom in back of the house gave off no smoke, meaning anthony's servants had already been dismissed for the night. good. the time could not have been better. ahead now, just at the corner, was the back doorway. it was ajar and unlatched; as usual the help had been careless as they crept away with meat scraps from anthony's table to season their own bland meal. he paused at the first step and tried to think how he would begin. for no reason at all he found himself staring up at the stars. the heavens in the caribbees always reminded him of one dusk, many years ago, when he had first seen london from afar--a jewel box of tiny sparklers hinting of riches, intrigues, delicious secrets. what waited there amidst those london lights, he had pondered, those thousands of flickering candles and cab lanterns? was it as joyful as it seemed? or was misery there too, as deep and irreducible as his own? that answer never came. but now this canopy of stars above the caribbees mantled a place of strife and despair wrenching as man could devise. he gently pushed open the split-log door and slipped through. the back hallway was narrow and unlighted, but its walls were shadowed from the blaze of distant candles. he remembered that anthony always lit extra tapers when he was morose, as though the burning wicks might somehow rekindle his own spirit. as he moved through the rough-hewn archway leading into the main room, he saw the seated figure draw back with a start and reach for the pistol lying on the table. "by god, what . . ." suddenly the chair was kicked away, and the man was rushing forward with open arms. "jeremy! god's life, it's you! where in heaven's name have you been?" anthony wrapped him in his arms. "we heard you'd been taken by morris and the roundheads." he drew back and gazed in disbelief and joy. "are you well, lad? were you wounded?" "i've been with admiral calvert on the _rainbowe_." he heard his own voice, and its sound almost made him start. "you've been . . .?" anthony's eyes narrowed slightly. "then you managed to escape! did you commandeer a longboat? for the love of god, lad, what happened?" what happened? he almost laughed at the question. would that any man ever knew, he found himself thinking. what ever "happens" . . . save that life flows on, of its own will, and drags you with it willy-nilly? without a word he carefully settled his flintlock in the corner, next to the rack that held anthony's own guns--three matchlocks and two flintlocks--and slumped into a vacant chair by the table. "i've a thirst." he glanced distractedly about the room, barely remembering it. for the past two days--now it seemed like an entire age--life had been a ship. "is there brandy?" "aye, there's a flask in the sideboard, as always." anthony examined him curiously. jeremy rarely drank anything stronger than madeira wine. "what is it, lad? for god's sake let's have it. all of it." with a tankard in his hand, jeremy discovered that the first part of the story fairly tumbled forth--the roundhead captain he had killed, the anger, the dismay, the loose discipline of the men in the trench. he even managed to confess straight out the circumstances of his capture, that he had ignored the call to retreat, only to have his musket misfire. finally he reached the part where he first met admiral calvert. then the tale seemed to die within him. "well, lad, what happened next? you say morris knew who you were?" "aye, and he spoke of you." jeremy looked at his brother. "with considerable respect, to tell it truthfully." "a roundhead schemer, that's dick morris, who'd not speak the truth even if he knew how." anthony leaned forward and examined his tankard. "but i'm beginning to grow fearful he may have the last say in this matter, truth or no." he looked up. "what did you see of their forces, lad? can they mount another landing?" "they can. they will. they've got the dutch provisions, and calvert claims they could hold out for weeks. but he says he'll not wait. he plans to invade." "aye, i'd feared as much. if he does, i say god help us. this damned militia is plagued with more desertions every day. these freeholders seem to think they've done all they need, after jamestown. they're saying let somebody else fight the next time, when there isn't anybody else. we're having trouble keeping enough men called up just to man the breastworks." he scratched at his eye-patch distractedly. "i suppose we can still meet them if they try another assault, but it'll be a pitched battle, as god is my witness." jeremy drank off the tankard, rose, and walked shakily to the sideboard. the onion-flask of brandy was still over half full. he wished he could down it all, then and there. "i heard their plans from admiral calvert." he finished pouring and set down the bottle. after a deep drink he moved back to his chair, without meeting anthony's gaze. "i would all the assembly and council could have heard what he said." "what did that roundhead criminal do? threaten you, and then send you home in hopes you'd somehow cozen me?" anthony looked up. "jeremy, that man's a base traitor to his king. his father was in charles' court, and edmond calvert was knighted for no more cause than being george calvert's son. then when prince rupert and the navy declared their support for the king, he took his ship and defected to parliament. . . ." "it wasn't a threat." suddenly the words came again. out poured calvert's story of cromwell's plans for the island if it defied him. the assembly and council would be dismissed and powlett set up as governor. a garrison would be installed. moreover, powlett might well see fit to reward loyal puritan islanders with the estates of recalcitrant royalists. anthony walrond stood to lose all his acres, again. the elder walrond listened thoughtfully till the story was finished. then he slowly drained his tankard. "it's the final humiliation. cromwell, may god damn him, can't rest content merely to strike off the head of his most royal majesty. now he must needs reduce all that king's loyal subjects to nothing." "but it needn't be." jeremy put down his tankard. his hands quivered, as though to match the flicker of the candles. "there's something you haven't told me yet, isn't there, lad? you haven't said why they set you ashore. you didn't escape, did you?" anthony studied him with sudden dismay. "i'll wager you were sent back. why was it?" "aye. the reason is this." he rose and reached into the pocket of his doublet. the letter was still there, waiting, its wax seal warm against his shirt. "it's for you." he found himself wishing it had been lost, though he believed with all his heart the message meant salvation. it was a gift of god. yet something about it now seemed the work of the devil. "what is it, jeremy?" anthony stared at the envelope. "some kind of threat to try and frighten me too?" he looked up and bristled. "they can spare their ink and paper." "admiral calvert asked me to deliver this. he and captain morris said that whilst you were their staunchest foe, they also knew you for a gentleman. they said you were the only man on the island they felt they could trust. that you alone could prevent this place being brought to ruin by cromwell--which would probably mean fighting all over the americas for years, when they just want to settle this and be gone." "are they asking me to be a traitor to the island?" "they've made an offer, a private offer. they said the assembly can't be made to reason, that it'd sooner bring ruination to the island than agree to a compromise." "this is damned knavery. to presume i'd be party to disloyalty." "but think on't." jeremy drank again and felt his boldness renewed. "why should you sacrifice yourself helping the greedy puritans on this island? the council scorns to listen to you, and you've still not been elected to the assembly. i'd say you've received naught but contempt, from the day you arrived." his voice rose. "make no mistake on it, there'll be a new regime here after the island surrenders, which it'll have to eventually. right now, calvert and morris just want to keep barbados out of the hands of this man powlett." anthony turned the envelope in his hand. "so what does this cursed letter of calvert's say?" "merely that you're a reasonable man, that you're surely sensible of the ruin a total war would mean. and that he's got terms to offer you that are truly in the best interest of barbados, if only you'd give them ear." "i suppose he made you privy to these most generous terms." anthony tossed the letter onto the rough pine boards in front of him. "if you'd use your influence to work for peace, and convince your windward regiment here in this parish to cooperate, he'll take steps to thwart the designs of powlett. if the island laid down its arms, then there'd be no garrison of troops. he'll guarantee it. and there'd be amnesty for all the planters." "it's more damn'd roundhead lies. that's not the voice of cromwell. that's the voice of an admiral who fears he can't take this place by force. so he'd try doing it by deceit." anthony's face reddened. "does the man have the cheek to think i've no scruples whatsoever?" "but he's promised more. he'd form a new council and make you its head. he and you'd appoint the others together. of course they'd needs be men of moderate stripe, who'd stood for peace. but you could both work together to ensure the treaty was kept. powlett might still have to serve as governor for a time, but he'd not be able to do anything without the approval of your new council." "it's all a deception, lad." anthony sighed wistfully. "would it were true. you're young, and i fear to say still a bit gullible. these are promises made in the moonlight and shrugged away at sunrise." "i'm old enough to know there's been enough killing." jeremy choked back a lump of guilt that rose in his chest. "but the letter's not addressed to me. it's to you. what harm in reading it? morris would like to arrange a meeting, unarmed, to discuss its terms." "a meeting!" anthony seemed to spit out the words. "aye, here along the coast at oistins. he's to come ashore by longboat tomorrow night, alone, to hear what you have to say." jeremy took another drink of brandy and its fire burned through him. "there's no harm in that, for sure. it could be the beginning of peace." "lad, talk sense. they'll not hold to these conditions you've described. once the island is disarmed, it'll be the end for every free man here." "he said he'd give you all the terms in writing, signed." jeremy noticed his tankard was dry. he wanted to rise for more brandy, but the room swirled about him. "it's our chance, don't you see. if barbados goes down fighting, there'll be no terms. no concessions. just more needless deaths. if you don't hear them out, it'll be on our heads." "i'll not do it." "but what's the council ever done for you? for that matter, what has bedford done?" anthony stared into the empty tankard in his hand and his voice grew bitter. "he's let katherine take up company with the criminal who robbed our ship at nevis, whilst we're at this very time negotiating a marriage portion. and made me a laughing stock in the bargain, if you must know." he looked up. "in truth, that's the most dalby bedford's done for me as of late." jeremy felt his face grow flush with embarrassment. "then i say you owe it to decency to hear what morris has to offer tomorrow night. otherwise there'll just be more killing. next it'll be starvation too. please. i entreat you to think on it." anthony picked up the letter and turned it in his hand. "liberty or death." his voice was strangely subdued. "that's what the assembly claimed they wanted. but it turns out that was just talk. they don't even want liberty enough to stand and fight for it, that's all too clear now." he pushed open the wax seal with his thumb and unfolded the paper. jeremy watched his face as he began to read. _my lord, i send this to you as one who is master of a great deal of reason, and truly sensible of the ruin of the island if it should longer be obstinate. only after appeal to your lordship could i satisfy mine own conscience that i had done my duty in avoiding what i can the shedding of blood and the ruin of this island; for although i may by some be looked upon as an enemy, yet really i do you office of a friend in urging your lordship and those engaged with you to judge of the necessity of your lordship's and their giving their due obedience to the state of england or else to suffer yourselves to be swallowed up in the destruction which a little time must inevitably bring upon you, which i cannot suppose rational men would wish. my lord, may it please you to know that i am not ignorant of the interests of this island, and very well know the impossibility of its subsistence without the patronage of england. it is clear to me that god will own us in our attempts against this island (as he hath hitherto done), and yet to show you that i would endeavour what i can to avoid the shedding of blood and the loss of estates, i have thought fit to send this to your lordship, to offer you such reasonable conditions as may be honourable for the state to give. . . . _ anthony studied the terms carefully; they were just as described by jeremy. calvert was offering a leniency most uncharacteristic of cromwell. the island would be beholden to parliament, to be sure, but it would not be humiliated. moreover, he suddenly thought, when charles ii moved to restore the monarchy, this island's strength and arms would be intact, ready to help throw off the yoke of cromwell's oppression. with a surge of pleasure he realized this could well be a strategic retreat, in the finest military sense. if calvert were willing to honor these generous terms, the fight could still be won another day. particularly if anthony walrond controlled the new council of barbados. chapter fourteen "i've always called it 'little island,' since nobody's ever troubled giving it a name." she reined in her mare and directed winston's gaze toward the atoll that lay a few hundred yards off the coast. the waters along the shore shimmered a perfect blue in the bright midday sun. "at low tide, like now, you can wade a horse right through the shallows." "does anybody ever come out here?" he drew in his gelding and stared across the narrow waterway. the island was a curious anomaly; there was a high rocky peak at its center, the lookout katherine had described, and yet the shores were light sand and verdant with palms. little island was less than a quarter mile across and shaped like an egg, almost as though god had seen fit to set down a tiny replica of barbados here off its southern shore. looking west you could see the forested coast of the mother island, while to the east there was the road leading to oistins and the atlantic beyond. "never. i've ridden out here maybe a dozen times, but there's never been a soul." he turned and surveyed the coast. "what else is around this place?" "nothing much, really. . . . just the walrond plantation, up the coast, inland a mile or so, about halfway between here and oistins." "good christ! i'm beginning to understand it all." he laughed wistfully. "i'll wager you've probably come out here with that gallant of yours." then he looked at her, his eyes sardonic. "didn't he get his fancy silk breeches wet riding across the shallows?" "hugh, not another word. try to understand." she turned and studied him. these occasional flares of jealousy; did he mean them? she wasn't sure. maybe it was all just a game to him, playing at being in love. but then, she asked herself, what was she doing? perhaps wanting to have everything, a lover and a husband. but why couldn't you? besides, hugh would be gone soon. better to enjoy being in love with him while she could. "i mean that. and anthony must never learn we came here." he was silent for a moment, letting the metrical splash of the surf mark the time. somehow she'd managed to get away with her little game so far. anthony walrond was too busy rallying his royalists to take much notice of anything else. or maybe he was willing just to turn his blind eye to it all. "katy, tell me something. how, exactly, am i supposed to fit into all this? you think you can have an amour with me and then wed a rich royalist when i'm gone? i suppose you figure he'll be governor here someday himself, so you won't even have to move out of the compound." "hugh, i'm in love with you. there, i said it. but i'm going to marry anthony. it's the sensible thing for me to do. love needn't have anything to do with that." she urged her horse forward as a white egret swooped past, then turned back brightly. "let's ride on over. the island's truly a lovely spot, whether you decide to use it or not." he stared after her in amazement. maybe she was right. maybe life was just being sensible, taking whatever you could. but that was also a game two could play. so back to business. the island. time was growing short, and he knew there was no longer any means to finish lading the stores on the _defiance_ without everyone in bridgetown suspecting something was afoot. the frigate was aground directly in front of the main tobacco sheds, in full view of every tavern around the harbor. but there was still a way to assemble what was needed--using an old trick he had learned years ago. you pull together your stores in some secluded haven, to be picked up the night you make your break. it had been a week since the invasion at jamestown, and now what seemed to be a battle of nerves was underway. what else could it be? a new set of terms had been sent ashore by the commander of the fleet, terms the assembly had revised and sent back, only to have them rejected. after that, there had been quiet. was barbados being left to starve quietly in the sun? or, he'd begun to wonder, was something else afoot? maybe even a betrayal? could it be some puritan sympathizers in the assembly were trying to negotiate a surrender behind bedford's back? even katherine was worried; and the governor had taken the unprecedented step of arming his servants. a turn for the worse seemed all too likely, given the condition of the island's morale. but she'd insisted they not talk about it today. she touched coral lightly across the rump with her crop, and the mare stepped eagerly into the crystalline blue water of the shallows, happy to escape the horseflies nipping at its shanks. winston spurred his mount and splashed after her. ahead of them, little island stood like a tropical mirage in the sea. "you're right about one thing. i'm damned if this place isn't close to paradise. there's not a lovelier spot in the caribbees." the bottom was mostly gravel, with only an occasional rivulet of sand. "see over there? it looks to be a school of angelfish." he was pointing off to the left, toward an iridescent mass of turquoise and yellow that shimmered just beneath the surface. "i had no idea there was any place like this along here. tell me, are you sure there's enough draft on the windward side for me to put in and lade?" "when we reach those rocks up ahead, we can tie the horses and walk the shore. then i suppose you can decide for yourself, captain." she watched as the glimmer of fish darted forward. to be free like that! able to go anywhere, do anything. "i remember one place where the bottom seems to drop almost straight down. you could probably anchor there." "good thing we came early." he glanced up to the sky, then at her. she detected a smile. "this may take a while." what was he thinking? did he feel the freedom of this place too? she loved being here alone with him, just the two of them. what a proper scandal it would make if anybody found out. "maybe the real reason i told you about this spot was to lure you out here. and then keep you here all to myself." he started to laugh, then stopped. "i'd probably be an easy captive, betwixt your designs and the guns of the english navy." "oh, for god's sake don't be so dreary and melancholy. i'm sure you'll be gone from barbados soon enough, never fear. if that's what you want." she sensed she had pressed him too hard. "but maybe you'll remember me once in a while, after you've sailed off to get yourself killed by the spaniards." "well, i'm not done with barbados yet, i can promise you that." what did he mean? she wished he'd continue, but then his horse stumbled against a rock and he glanced down, distracted. when he looked up again, they were already nearing the shallows of the island. "if i can get a good cart and a couple of draft horses, i'll wager i can bring the other stores i'll need out here with no trouble at all. it's mainly hogsheads of water we're short now, and maybe a few more barrels of salt pork." his gelding emerged from the water, threw back its head and snorted, then broke into a prance along the sandy beach. "no more than two days' work, the way i figure it. i'll have a few of the indentures give my boys a hand." her mare had already trotted ahead, into the shade of a tall palm whose trunk emerged from behind a rocky embankment. she slipped from the saddle and glanced back at winston. he was still staring down the shoreline in delight. "if you'd care to tether your frolicking horse, captain, we can walk around to the other side." "why don't we swim it?" he pulled his mount alongside hers and dropped onto the sand, his eyes suddenly sparkling. while the horse nuzzled curiously at the salty wetness on its legs, he collected the reins and kneeled down to begin hobbling it. "can you make it that far?" "have you gone mad from the heat!" they were alone, miles from anything. he was all hers now, no gunnery mates, no seamen. to swim! what a sensible . . . no, romantic idea. he laughed and began to tie a leather thong to her mare's forelegs. "katy, you should know better than to try being coy with me. i'll wager you can swim like a fish. you probably learned for no other reason than it's not ladylike." he finished with the mare and rose up, facing her. his face was like fine leather against the blue of the sky. "besides, i think i'd like seeing you out of that bodice." "remember, you're not on your quarterdeck today, so i needn't harken to your every wish." she slipped her hands beneath his jerkin and ran them slowly across the muscles on his sides. the feel of him reminded her of their first night together. as she ran her fingers upward, toward his shoulders, his lips came down to hers. "you might get used to it if you tried it once." his voice was almost a whisper. as he kissed her he wrapped her in his arms and deftly pulled the knot at the base of her bodice. "so get yourself out of this thing and let's try the water." he wiggled the laces open and slipped it over her head. she wore nothing beneath, and her breasts emerged milky-white in the sunshine. he paused to examine her, then continued, "why stand about in this heat when there's a cool lagoon waiting?" he stepped away, slipped off his jerkin, and tossed it across his saddle. he was reaching down to unbuckle his boots when she stopped him. she dropped to her knees, slipped her hands around his waist, and nuzzled her face against his thighs. then she released him and bent down. "let me unbuckle your boots." "what?" "i enjoy doing things for you sometimes." he seemed startled; she'd suspected he wouldn't like it. but he didn't pull away. "come on then." he quickly stepped out of the boots. as she laid them against the trunk of the palm, she noticed they were still smeared with powder residue from that day at the jamestown breastwork. "we're going to see how far around this island we can swim. pretend that's an official order from the quarterdeck." he pulled his pistols from his waist and secured them on his saddle. then he unbuckled his belt and glanced at her. "i don't know about you, but don't plan to try it in my breeches." he solemnly began slipping off his canvas riding trousers. she watched for a moment, then reached for the waist of her skirt. she found herself half wishing he couldn't see her like this, plain and in the sunlight. she liked her body, but would he? would he notice that her legs were a trifle too slim? or that her stomach wasn't as round as it should be? now he was leading the way down the incline toward the lagoon. the white sand was a warm, textured cushion against their bare feet as they waded into the placid waters. around the island, on the windward side, the waves crashed against the shore, but here the lagoon remained serene. as she noticed the brisk wind against her skin, she suddenly didn't care what he thought. she felt like the most beautiful woman alive. when she was younger, she could ride and shoot as well as any lad on the island; then one day she awoke to find herself cloaked in a prison of curves and bulges, with a litany in her ears about all the things she wasn't supposed to be seen doing anymore. it infuriated her. why did men have things so much easier? like winston. he moved the same way he handled his flintlock pistols, with a thoughtless poise. as he walked now, his shoulders were slightly forward and his broad back seemed to balance his stride. but, even more, she loved the hard rhythm of his haunches, trim and rippled with muscles. she stopped to watch as he splashed into the shallows. god forgive me, she thought, how i do adore him. what i'd most like right now is just to enfold him, to capture him in my arms. and never let . . . good god, what am i saying? the water was deliciously cool, and it deepened quickly. before she knew, she felt the rhythm of the waves against her thighs. "katy, the time has come." he turned back and admired her for a second, then thumped a spray of water across her breasts. "let's see if you really can swim." abruptly he leaned forward, dipped one shoulder, and stroked powerfully. the curves of his body blended with the ripples as he effortlessly glided across the surface. a startled triggerfish darted past, orange in the sun. he stroked again, then yelled over his shoulder, "i'm still not sure i can always believe everything you say." "nor i you, hugh. though truly you say little enough." she leaned into the water, fresh and clean against her face. she gave a kick and another stroke and she was beside him. the sea around them seemed a world apart from the bondage of convention. he was right for wanting to swim. "so today, to repay me for showing you this spot, i want you to tell me everything, all the things you've been holding back." "unlike you, who's held nothing back? like this island and what it means to you?" she just ignored him, the best way to handle hugh when he was like this, and stroked again, staying even, the taste of salt on her lips. the white sands of the shoreline were gliding past now, and behind them the palms nodded lazily in the sun. then she rolled over and kicked, drifting through the blue. he rolled over too and reached to take her hand. they slid across the surface together as one body. she was lost in the quiet and calm, almost dreaming, when she saw his face rise up. "how far can you see from those rocks up there?" he was pointing toward the craggy rise in the center of the island. "i'd like to go up after a while and have a look." "you want to know everything about this place. all at once. is that the only thing you care about?" "not quite." he pulled next to her. "i'll grant you've proved you can swim. and damned well." he smiled wryly. "it's doubtless a good thing to know how to do. we may all be needing to swim out of here soon, god help us." "not a word, remember your promise." her eyes flashed as she flung a handful of water. then she looked past him, at the white sand and the line of green palms. "let's go ashore for a while. that spot up there, at the trees--it's too beautiful to pass." the afternoon sun had begun to slant from the west as they waded out onto the sparkling sand, his arm circled around her waist. the breeze urged a sprightly nip against their skin. "hugh, i love you. truly." she leaned against him to feel his warmth. "i don't know what i should do." he was subdued and quiet as they stepped around a gleaming pile of shells. then he stopped and quietly enfolded her in his arms. "it's only fair to tell you i've never before felt about a woman the way i feel about you." he kissed her softly. "the troubling part is, i ought to know better." he turned and led her on in silence, till they reached the shade of a low palm. she dropped down onto the grass and watched him settle beside her. a large conch shell lay nearby, like a petrified flower. she picked it up and held it toward the sun, admiring its iridescent colors, then tossed it back onto the grass and looked at him. "i meant it when i said i wanted you to tell me everything." he glanced up and traced his fingertips across the gentle curve at the tops of her white breasts. "are you sure you want to hear it?" "yes, i do." she thought she detected a softness in his eyes, almost a yielding. he leaned back in the grass. "i guess you think there's a lot to tell, yet somehow it all adds up to nothing. to lying here under a palm, on an empty island, with a price on my head in england and little to show for all the years." he looked out to sea and shaded his eyes as he studied a sail at the horizon. "it seems i'm something different to everybody. so which story do you want to hear?" "why not try the real one?" she pushed him onto his back and raised on her elbow to study his face. it was certainly older than its years. "why won't you ever tell me about what happened when you first came out here? what was it about that time that troubles you so much?" "it's not a pretty tale. before i came, i never even thought much about the new world." he smiled at the irony of it now. "it all started when i was apprenticed and shipped out to the caribbean for not being royalist enough." "where to?" "well . . ." he paused automatically, then decided to continue. "in truth it was tortuga. back when the providence company had a settlement on the island." "but wasn't that burned out by the spaniards? we all heard about it. i thought everybody there was killed. how did you survive?" "as it happens, i'd been sort of banished by then. since i didn't get along too well with the puritans there, they'd sent me over to the north side of hispaniola, to hunt. probably saved my life. that's where i was when the spaniards came." "on hispaniola?" she stared at him. "do you mean to say you were once one of . . ." "the cow-killers." it was said slowly and casually. he waited to see how she would respond, but there was only a brief glimmer of surprise in her eyes. "then what some people say is true. i'd never believed it till now." she laughed. "i suppose i should be shocked, but i'm not." he smiled guardedly. "well, in those days they only hunted cattle. until toward the last." he paused a moment, then looked at her sharply. "but, yes, that's who i was with. however, katy, don't credit quite everything you may hear about me from the walronds." "but you left them. at least that tells me something about you." she held his hand lightly against her lips. the calluses along the palm were still soft from the water. "why did you finally decide to go?" he pulled her next to him and kissed her on the mouth, twice. then he ran his fingers down her body, across her smooth waist, till he reached the mound of light chestnut hair at her thighs. "i've never told anyone, katy. i'm not even sure i want to tell you now." he continued with his fingertips, on down her skin. "why won't you tell me?" she passed her hand across his chest. beneath the bronze she could feel the faint pumping of his heart. "i want to know all about you, to have all that to think about when you're gone. we're so much alike, in so many ways. i feel i have a right to know even the smallest little things about you." "i tried to shoot one of them. one of the cow-killers." he turned and ripped off a blade of grass, then crumpled it in his hand and looked away. "well, i'm sure that's not the first time such a thing has happened. i expect you had good reason. after all . . ." "the difference was who i tried to kill." he rolled over and stared up at the vacant sky. it was deep blue, flawless. "what do you mean? who was it?" "you probably wouldn't know." he glanced at her. "ever hear of a man who goes by the name of jacques le basque?" "good god." she glanced at him in astonishment. "isn't he the one who's been pillaging and killing spaniards in the windward passage for years now? in bridgetown they say the spaniards call him the most bloodthirsty man in the caribbean. i'm surprised he let you get away with it." "i didn't escape entirely unscathed." winston laughed. "you see, he was leader of the cow-killers back then. i suppose he still is." "so what happened?" "one foggy morning we had a small falling out and i tried a pistol on him. it misfired." he pushed back her hair and kissed her on the cheek. "did you know, katy, that the sun somehow changes the color of your eyes? makes them bluer?" she grabbed his hand and pushed him back up. "you're trying to shift the topic. i know your tricks. don't do that with me. tell me the rest." "what do you suppose? after i made free to kill him, he naturally returned the favor." winston stroked the scar on his cheek. "his pistol ball came this close to taking off my head. that's when i thought it healthy to part company with him and his lads." he traced his tongue down her body and lightly probed a nipple. it blushed pink, then began to harden under his touch. "no, you don't. not yet. you'll make me lose track of things." she almost didn't want him to know how much she delighted in the feel of his lips. it would give him too much power over her. could she, she wondered, ever have the same power over him? she had never yet kissed him all over, the way she wanted, but she was gathering courage for it. what would he do when she did? she reached up and cradled his face in her hands. the tongue that had been circling her nipple drew away and slowly licked one of her fingers. she felt herself surrendering again, and quickly drew her hand back. "talk to me some more. tell me why you tried to kill him." "who?" "the man you just said." she frowned, knowing well his way of teasing. yes, hugh winston was quite a tease. in everything. "just now. this jacques le basque." "him? why did i try to kill him?" he pecked at her nose, and she sensed a tenseness in his mouth. "i scarcely remember. it's as though the fog that moming never really cleared from my mind. as best i recall, it had something to do with a frigate." he smiled, the lines in his face softening. then he slipped an arm beneath her and drew her next to him. her skin was warm from the sun. "still, days like this make up for a lot in life. just being here. with you. trouble is, i worry i'm beginning to trust you. more than i probably ought." "i think i trust you too." she turned and kissed him on the lips, testing their feel. the tenseness had vanished, as mysteriously as it had come. she kissed him again, now with his lips meeting hers, and she wanted to crush them against her own. gone now, all the talk. he had won. he had made her forget herself once again. "i also love you, and i know you well enough by now to know for sure that's unwise." she moved across him, her breasts against his chest. would he continue to hold back, to keep something to himself, something he never seemed willing--or able--to give? only recently had she become aware of it. as she learned to surrender to him more and more fully, she had slowly come to realize that only a part of him was there for her. then the quiet of the lagoon settled around them as their bodies molded together, a perfect knowing. he pulled her against his chest, hard, as he knew she liked to be held. and she moved against him, instinctively. she felt herself wanting him, ready for that most exquisite moment of all. she slipped slowly downward, while he moved carefully to meet her. her soft breasts were still pillowed against his chest. she gasped lightly, a barely discernible intake of breath, and closed her eyes as she slowly received him. her eyes flooded with delight and she rose up, till her breasts swung above him like twin bells. "this is how i want to stay. forever." she bent back down and kissed him full on the mouth. "say you'll never move." "not even like this . . .?" now the feel of her and the scent of her, as she enclosed him and worked her thighs against him, fully awoke his own desire. it had begun, that need both to give and to take, and he sensed in her an intensity matching his own. so alien, yet so alike. gradually he became aware of a quickening of her motions against him, and he knew that, at this instant, he had momentarily ceased to exist for her; he had lost her to something deeper. she leaned closer, not to clasp him but to thrust her breasts against him, wordlessly telling him to touch the hard buds of her nipples. then the rhythms that rippled her belly shifted downward, strong and driven. with small sounds of anticipation she again rose above him, then suddenly cried aloud and grasped his body with her hands, to draw him into her totally. this was the moment when together they knew that nothing else mattered. as he felt himself giving way to her, he felt her gasp and again thrust against him, as though to seize and hold the ecstasy that had already begun to drift beyond them. but it had been fleeting, ephemeral, and now they were once more merely man and woman, in each other's arms, amidst the sand,and gently waving palms. finally she reached up and took his hands from her soft breasts, her eyes resigned and bewildered. he drew her to him and kissed her gently, to comfort her for that moment now lost to time. then he lifted her in his arms and lay her against the soft grass, her body open to him. he wanted this woman, more than anything. the afternoon sky was azure now, the hue of purest lapis lazuli, and its scattering of soft white clouds was mirrored in the placid waters of the lagoon. he held her cradled in his arms, half dozing, her face warm against his chest. "time." his voice sounded lightly against her ear. "what, darling?" "it's time we had a look around." he sat up and kissed her. "we've got to go back where we left the horses, and get our clothes and boots." he turned and gazed toward the dark outcrop of rocks that rose up from the center of the island. "then i'd like to go up there, to try and get some idea what the shoreline looks like on the windward side." "want to swim back?" she stared up at him, then rubbed her face against his chest. as she rose she was holding his hand and almost dancing around him. "you swim back if you like. for myself, i think i'm getting a bit old for such. what if i just walked the shore?" "oh, you're old, to be sure. you're ancient. but mostly in your head." she grabbed his hand. "come on." "well, just part way." he rose abruptly, then reached over and hoisted her into his arms. he bounced her lightly, as though she were no more weighty than a bundle of cane, and laughed at her gasp of surprise. "what do you know! maybe i'm not as decrepit as i thought." he turned and strode toward the shoreline, still cradling her against his chest. "put me down. you're just showing off." "that's right." they were waist deep when he balanced her momentarily high above the water and gave a shove. she landed with a splash and disappeared, only to resurface sputtering. "careful, katy, or you'll frighten the angelfish." he ducked the handful of water she flung at him and dived head first into the sea. a moment later he emerged, stroking. "come on then, you wanted to swim. shall we race?" "you'll regret it." she dived after him like a dolphin and when she finally surfaced she was already ahead. she yelled back, "don't think i'll let you win in the name of pride." he roared with laughter and moved alongside her. "whose pride are we talking about, mine or yours?" and they swam. he was always half a length behind her, yelling that he would soon pass her, but when they reached the point along the shore even with their clothes, she was still ahead. "now shall i carry you ashore. captain?" she let her feet touch the sandy bottom and turned to watch him draw next to her. "you're most likely exhausted." "damn you." he stood up beside her, breathing heavily. "no seaman ever lets himself get caught in the water. now i know why." he seized her hand and glanced at the sun. it was already halfway toward evening. "come on, we're wasting time. i want to reconnoiter this damned island of yours before it's too dark." she pulled him back and kissed him one last time, the waters of the lagoon still caressing them. "hugh, this has been the loveliest day of my life. i'll remember it always." she kissed him again, and now he yielded, enfolding her in his arms. "can we come back? soon?" "maybe. if you can find time amidst all your marriage negotiations." he ran his hand over her smooth buttocks, then gave her a kiss that had the firmness of finality. "but now we go to work, katy. come on." the horses watched them expectantly, snorting and pawing with impatience, while they dressed again. she finished drawing the laces of her bodice, then walked over and whispered to her mare. "we can take the horses if you think they could use a stretch." he gazed up toward the outcrop. "i suppose they can make it." "coral can go anywhere you can." "then let her prove it." he reached down and untied the hobble on his gelding's forefeet. then he grabbed the reins and vaulted into the saddle. "let's ride." the route up the island's center spine was dense with scrub foliage, but the horses pushed their way through. the afternoon was silent save for the occasional grunts of wild hogs in the underbrush. before long they emerged into the clear sunshine again, the horses trotting eagerly up a grassy rise, with only a few large boulders to impede their climb. when they reached the base of the rocky outcropping that marked the edge of the plateau, he slipped from the saddle and tied his mount to a small green tree. "no horse can make that." he held coral's reins as she dismounted. "let's walk." behind them now the long shore of barbados stretched into the western horizon. the south side, toward oistins bay, was shielded by the hill. "this could be a good lookout post." he took her arm and helped her over the first jagged extrusion of rock. now the path would be winding, but the way was clear, merely a steep route upward. "i'll wager you can see for ten leagues out to sea from up there at the top." "i've always wondered what oistins looked like from here. i never got up this far before." she ran a hand fondly down the back of his jerkin. it was old and brown and sweat-encrusted. she knew now that he had fancy clothes secreted away, but he seemed to prefer things as worn and weathered as he could find. "the harbor must be beautiful this time of the afternoon." "if you know where to look upland, you might just see your walrond gallant's plantation." he gestured off to the left. "didn't you say it's over in that direction somewhere?" she nodded silently, relieved he hadn't said anything more. they were approaching the top now, a rocky plateau atop the rough outcrop in front of them. "up we go, katy." he seized a sharp protrusion and pulled himself even. then he reached down and took her hand. she held to his grip as he hoisted her up over the last jagged rocks. "it's just like . . ." her voice trailed off. "what?" he glanced back at her. "oh god, hugh! i don't believe it!" she was pointing toward the southeast, and the color had drained from her face. he whirled and squinted into the afternoon haze. at sea, under full sail with a heading of north by northeast, were eight english warships, tawny-brown against the blue caribbean. their guns were not run out. instead their decks were crowded with steel- helmeted infantry. they were making directly for oistins bay. "the breastwork! why aren't they firing!" he instinctively reached for the handle of the pistol in the left-hand side of his belt. "i've not heard a shot. where's walrond's windward regiment? they're just letting them land!" "oh hugh, how could the windwards do this to the island? they're the staunchest royalists here. why would they betray the rest of us?" "we've got to get back to bridgetown, as hard as we can ride. to pull all the militia together and try to get the men down from jamestown." "but i've heard no warnings." she watched the english frigates begin to shorten sail as they entered the bay. suddenly she glanced down at his pistols. "what's the signal for oistins?" "you're right." he slipped the flintlock from the left side of his belt and handed it to her. "it's four shots--two together, followed by two apart. though i doubt there's anybody around close enough to hear." "let's do it anyway. there's a plantation about half a mile west down the coast. ralph warner. he's in the assembly." he pulled the other pistol from his belt. "now, after you fire the first barrel, pull that little trigger there, below the lock, and the second one revolves into place. but first check the prime." "that's the first thing i did." she frowned in exasperation. "i'll wager i can shoot almost as well as you can. isn't it time now you learned to trust me?" "katy, after what's just happened, you're about the only person on barbados i trust at all. get ready." he raised the gun above his head and there was the sharp crack of two pistol shots in rapid succession. then she quickly squeezed off the rest of the signal. she passed back the gun, then pointed toward the settlement at oistins. "look, do you see them? that must be some of the windward regiment, down by the breastwork. that's their regimental flag. they've probably come down to welcome the fleet." "your handsome fiance seems to have sold his soul, and his honor. the royalist bastard . . ." he paused and caught her arm. from the west came two faint cracks of musket fire, then again. the signal. "let's get back to bridgetown as fast as these horses will take us. i'm taking command of this militia, and i'm going to have anthony walrond's balls for breakfast." he was almost dragging her down the incline. "come on. it's one thing to lose a fair fight. it's something else to be cozened and betrayed. nobody does that to me. by christ i swear it." she looked apprehensively at his eyes and saw an anger unlike any she had ever seen before. it welled up out of his very soul. that was what really moved him. honor. you kept your word. finally she knew. she grasped for the saddle horn as he fairly threw her atop her horse. the mare snorted in alarm at the sudden electricity in the air. a moment later winston was in his saddle and plunging down the brushy incline. "hugh, let's . . . ride together. don't . . ." she ducked a swinging limb and then spurred coral alongside. "why would anthony do it? and what about jeremy? he'll be mortified." "you'd better be worrying about the assembly. that's your father's little creation. would they betray him?" "some of them were arguing for surrender. they're worried about their plantations being ruined if there's more fighting, more war." "well, you can tell them this. there's going to be war, all right. if i have to fight with nobody helping me but my own lads." he spurred his horse onto the grassy slope that led down to the sand. moments later the frightened horses were splashing through the shallows. ahead was the green shore of barbados. "by christ, there'll be war like they've never seen. mark it, by sunrise tomorrow this god damned island is going to be in flames." chapter fifteen "your servant, sir." anthony walrond stood in the shadow of the oistins breastwork, his hand resting lightly on his sword. edmond calvert was walking slowly up the beach from the longboat, flanked by james powlett and richard morris. the hour was half past three in the afternoon, exactly as agreed. there had to be enough light to get the men and supplies ashore, and then the timely descent of darkness to shield them. "your punctuality, i trust, portends your constancy in weightier concerns." "and yours, sir, i pray may do the same." calvert slipped off his dark hat and lightly bowed a greeting. then he turned and indicated the two men behind him. "you've met vice admiral powlett. and i understand colonel morris is not entirely unknown to you." "we've had some acquaintance in times past." walrond nodded coldly in the direction of morris, but did not return the commander's perfunctory smile. the old hatred, born of years of fighting in england, flowed between them. "then shall we to affairs?" calvert turned back and withdrew a packet from his waistcoat. "the supplies we agreed on are ready. i've had my chief purser draw up a list for your inspection." walrond took the papers, then glanced out toward the ships. so it's finally come to this, he thought wistfully. but, god is my witness, we truly did all any man could ask. there's no turning back now. as he thumbed open the wax seal of the packet, he noted absently that it was dated today, friday. had all this really come to pass since only sundown monday, when he had first met powlett, received the initial set of terms from edmond calvert, and begun negotiations? he had tried his best to counsel reason to the assembly, he told himself, to arrange an honorable treaty that would preserve the militia. but a handful of hotheads had clamored for hopeless defiance, and prevailed. the only way to save the island now was to force it to surrender as quickly and painlessly as possible. victory lay in living to fight another day. he gazed back at the ships of the fleet, and thought of the road that had brought them to this: the defection of his own regiment, once the finest fighting men in england, the royalist windwards. monday at sundown he had commandeered the back room of the dolphin tavern, which stood hard by the shore of oistins bay, and met powlett. through the night emissaries had shuttled terms back and forth between the tavern and the rainbowe, berthed offshore. by the time the flagship hoisted anchor and made way for open sea at dawn, anthony walrond held in his hand a document signed by edmond calvert; it provided for the end of the blockade, the island's right to keep its arms and rule itself in local matters, and a full amnesty for all. the price, as price there must be, was an agreement to recognize the commonwealth and the appointment of a new governor and council by calvert. tuesday he had summoned a trusted coterie of his royalist officers to the dolphin and set forth the terms. they had reviewed them one by one, debated each, then agreed by show of hands that none more favorable could reasonably be obtained. healths were drunk to the eventual restoration of charles ii to the throne, and that night a longboat was dispatched to the _rainbowe_, carrying a signed copy of the agreement. wednesday, as agreed, edmond calvert had ordered a duplicate copy of the terms forwarded to the assembly, indicating it was his last offer. no mention was made of the secret negotiations that had produced the document. at that meeting of the assembly dalby bedford had risen to declare he would not allow his own interests to be the cause of a single new death, that he would accept the terms and resign forthwith if such was the pleasure of the assembly--which was, he said, a democratic body that must now make its own decision whether to continue fighting or to negotiate. he next moved that the document be put to a vote. it was narrowly approved by the assembly; an honorable peace seemed within reach. but then the fabric so carefully sewed was ripped apart. a committee was formed to draw up the statement of the assembly's response. in an atmosphere of hot spirits and general confusion, several of the more militant members had managed to insert a new clause into the treaty: that "the legal and rightful government of this island shall remain as it is now established, by law and our own consent." the response was then carried by voice vote and sent back to calvert, a gauntlet flung across the admiral's face. the defiant faction in the assembly exulted and drank toasts to the destruction of any who would have peace on the original terms. that night calvert had delivered a new message to anthony walrond, inviting him to join with the forces of the commonwealth--a move, he said, that would surely induce the assembly to show reason. with this invitation he had inserted an additional offer: he would endeavor to persuade oliver cromwell to restore the sequestrated estates in england of any royalist officer who consented to assist. on thursday, anthony held another meeting of the officers of the windward regiment, and they voted enthusiastically to defect to the side of the fleet. after all, they reasoned, had not an honorable peace already been refused by the extremists in the assembly? that night he so advised edmond calvert, demanding as conditions a supply of musket shot and fifty kegs of musket powder. this morning just before dawn a longboat from the _rainbowe_ had returned calvert's reply--a signed acceptance of the terms. with feelings mixed and rueful, he had ordered an english flag hoisted above the breastwork at oistins, the agreed-upon signal to calvert. then, to ensure security, he ordered that no militiaman be allowed to leave oistins till the ships of the fleet had put in and landed their infantry. the _rainbowe _led the eight warships that entered the bay at midafternoon. anthony had seen edmond calvert mount the quarterdeck to watch as the guns in the breastwork were turned around and directed inland, part of his conditions. then the admiral had ordered a longboat lowered and come ashore. . . . "these supplies all have to be delivered now, before dark." anthony was still scrutinizing the list. "or my men'll not be in the mood to so much as lift a half-pike." what matter, calvert told himself. it's done. the barbados landing is achieved. the island is ours. "you'll have the first load of powder onshore before sundown." he gestured toward the paper. "your musket shot, and the matchcord, are on the _marsten moor_, but i think we can have the bulk off-loaded by then too." "what of the rest of the powder, sir?" walrond squinted at the list with his good eye. "that was our main requirement. some of these regiments had little enough to start with, and i fear we'll be needing yours if there's any fighting to be done." good christ. calvert cast a dismayed look toward morris. had i but known how scarcely provisioned their forces were, i might well not have . . . "well, sir. what of the powder?" anthony's voice grew harder. "we can choose to halt this operation right now if . . ." "i've ordered ten kegs sent ashore. surely that should be adequate for the moment. you'll have the rest by morning, my word of honor." he squinted toward the horizon. "how much time do you think we've got to deploy the infantry?" "less than we'd hoped. we heard the signal for oistins being sent up the coast about half an hour past." walrond turned and followed calvert's gaze. the sun was a fiery disc above the western horizon, an emblem of the miserable caribbees ever reminding him of the england he had lost. "if their militia plans to meet us, they'll likely be assembling at bridgetown right now. it's possible they'll be able to march some of the regiments tonight. which means they could have men and cavalry here on our perimeter well before dawn." "then we've got to decide now where the best place would be to make a stand." calvert turned and motioned morris forward. the commander had been watching apprehensively as his tattered troops disembarked from the longboats and waded in through the surf. "what say you, sir? would you have us hold here at oistins, or try to march along the coastal road toward bridgetown while there's still some light?" morris removed his helmet and slapped at the buzzing gnats now emerging in the evening air, hoping to obscure his thoughts. did the admiral realize, he wondered, how exposed their men were at this very moment? why should anyone trust the loyalties of anthony walrond and his royalists? it could all be a trap, intended to lure his men onshore. he had managed to muster almost four hundred infantrymen from the ships, but half of those were weak and vomiting from scurvy. already, even with just the militia he could see, his own forces were outnumbered. if walrond's regiments turned on them now, the entire commonwealth force would be in peril. could they even manage to make their way back to the ships? caution, that's what the moment called for now, and that meant never letting the windward regiment, or any island militia, gain a position that would seal off their escape route. "we'll need a garrison for these men, room for their tents." he glanced carefully at walrond. "i'm thinking it would be best for now if we kept our lads under separate command. each of us knows his own men best." "as you will, sir." anthony glanced back, smelling morris' caution. it's the first mark of a good commander, he told himself, but damn him all the same. he knows as well as i we've got to merge these forces. "i propose we march the men upland for tonight, to my plantation. you can billet your officers in my tobacco sheds, and encamp the men in the fields." "will it be ground we can defend?" morris was carefully monitoring the line of longboats bringing his men ashore. helmets and breastplates glistened in the waning sun. "you'll not have the sea at your back, the way you do now, should we find need for a tactical retreat." "aye, but we'll have little else, either." morris looked back at calvert. "i'd have us off-load some of the ship ordnance as soon as possible. we're apt to need it to hold our position here, especially since i'll wager they'll have at least twice the cavalry mustered that these windwards have got." "you'll not hold this island from the shores of oistins bay, sir, much as you might wish." anthony felt his frustration rising. "we've got to move upland as soon as we can." "i'd have us camp here, for tonight." morris tried to signal his disquiet to calvert. "those will be my orders." "very well, sir," walrond continued, squinting toward the windward regiment's cavalry, their horses prancing as they stood at attention. "and don't forget the other consideration in our agreement. the assembly is to be given one more opportunity to accept the terms. you are obliged to draft one final communication for bedford, beseeching him to show himself an englishman and persuade the assembly to let us reach an accord." "as you will, sir." calvert turned away, biting his tongue before he said more. keep an even keel, he told himself. there'll be time and plenty to reduce this island, sir anthony walrond with it. the work's already half done. now to the rest. after we've brought them to heel, we'll have time enough to show them how the commonwealth means to rule the americas. time and plenty, may god help them all. * * * * * "shango, can you hear me?" she knelt beside her mat, her voice pleading. how, she wondered, did you pray to a yoruba god? really pray? was it the same as the christian god? but shango was more. he was more than just a god. he was also part of her, she knew that now. but must he always wait to be called, evoked? must he first seize your body for his own, before he could declare his presence, work his will? then the hard staccato sounds came again, the drums, their yoruba words drifting up over the rooftop from somewhere in the distance and flooding her with dread, wrenching her heart. tonight, they proclaimed, the island will be set to the torch. and the _branco _will be consumed in the fires. the men of the yoruba, on plantations the length of the island, were ready. this was the day consecrated to ogun, the day the fields of cane would be turned to flame. even now atiba was dictating final orders, words that would be repeated again and again by the drums. after the fires began, while the _branco _were still disorganized and frightened, they would attack and burn the plantation houses. no man who owned a _preto_ slave would be left alive. with all the powerful _branco_ slaveholders dead, the drums proclaimed, the white indentures would rise up and join with the yoruba. together they would seize the island. oh shango, please. she gripped the sides of the thin mattress. make him understand. no white will aid them. to the _branco_ the proud yoruba warriors are merely more _preto_, black and despised. make him understand it will be the end of his dream. to rise up now will mean the slaughter of his people. and ensure slavery forever. in truth, the only one she cared about was atiba. to know with perfect certainty that she would see him hanged, probably his body then quartered to frighten the others, was more than she could endure. his rebellion had no chance. what could he hope to do? not even ogun, the powerful god of war, could overcome the _branco's_ weapons and cunning. or his contempt for any human with a trace of african blood. atiba had hinted that he and his men would somehow find muskets. but where? this afternoon, only hours ago, she had heard another signal cross the island, the musket shots the _branco _had devised to sound an invasion alert. following that, many groups of cavalry had ridden past, headed south. the sight of them had made her reflect sadly that atiba and his yoruba warriors had no horses. afterward she had learned from the white servants that the soldiers of the ingles fleet had again invaded the island, this time on the southern coast. this meant that all the barbados militiamen surely must be mobilized now. every musket on the island would be in the hands of a white. there would be no cache of guns to steal. moreover, after the battle--regardless of who won--the soldiers of the fleet would probably help the militiamen hunt down atiba and his men. no branco wanted the island seized by african slaves. shango, stop them. ogun has made them drunk for the taste of blood. but the blood on their lips will soon be their own. slowly, sadly, she rose. she pulled her white shift about her, then reached under the mat to retrieve the small wand she had stolen from atiba's hut. she untied the scarf she had wrapped around it and gazed again at the freshly carved wood, the double axe. then she held it to her breast and headed, tiptoeing, down the creaking back stair. she had no choice but to go. to the one place she knew she could find shango. "i say damn their letter." benjamin briggs watched as the mounted messenger from oistins disappeared into the dark, down the road between the palms, still holding the white flag above his head. "i suppose they'd now have us fall back and negotiate? when we've got the men and horse ready to drive them into the sea." "it's addressed to me, presumably a formality. doubtless it's meant for the entire assembly." bedford turned the packet in his hand and moved closer to the candles on the table. "it's from admiral calvert." the front room of nicholas whittington's plantation house was crowded with officers of the militia. there were few helmets; most of the men wore the same black hats seen in the fields. muskets and bandoliers of powder and shot were stacked in the comer. intermittent gusts of the night breeze washed the stifling room through the open shutters. the afternoon's mobilization had brought together less than three thousand men, half the militia's former strength. they had marched west from bridgetown at sunset, and now they were encamped on the whittington plantation grounds, in fields where tobacco once had grown. the plantation was a thousand acre tract lying three miles to the southwest of anthony walrond's lands, near the southern coast. "well, we've got a quorum of the assembly here." colonel george heathcott stepped forward, rubbing at his short beard. he was still stunned by anthony walrond's defection to the roundheads. "we can formally entertain any last minute proposals they'd care to make." "i trust this time the assembly will discern treachery when they see it," briggs interjected. "i warned you this was likely to happen. when you lose your rights, 'tis small matter whether you hand them over or give them up at the point of a musket barrel. they're gone and that's the end of it, either way." "aye, i'll wager there's apt to be a walrond hand in this too, regardless who authored it. just another of his attempts to cozen the honest men of this island." tom lancaster spat toward the empty fireplace. he thought ruefully of the cane he had in harvest--five hundred acres, almost half his lands, had been planted--and realized that now the fate of his future profits lay with an untrustworthy militia and the assembly, half the voting members of which were men with fewer than a dozen acres. "he's sold the future, and liberty, of this island for forty pieces of silver." "or for the governorship," heathcott interjected. "mark it." "not so long as i've got breath." briggs' complexion was deepening in the candlelight as he began wondering what the commonwealth's men would do with his sugar. confiscate it and ruin him in the bargain? "i say we fight to the last man, no matter what." dalby bedford finished scanning the letter and looked up. "i think we should hold one last vote. there's . . ." "what are the terms?" briggs interrupted. "they seem to be the same. i presume he thought we might surrender, now that they've landed." bedford hesitated. was independence worth the killing sure to ensue if they went to war--a war that had now become planter against planter? "but it does appear he's willing to negotiate." "then let's hear it." briggs glanced about the room. "though i'd have every man here remember that we've got no guarantees other than calvert's word, and anything he consents to will still have to be approved by parliament." "if you'll allow me, sir." bedford motioned for quiet, then lifted a candlestick from the table and held it over the parchment. _"to the right honorable etc. "my lord--i have formerly sent you many invitations to persuade you to a fair compliance with that new power which governs your native country, thereby preserving yourself and all the gent, of this island from certain ruin, and this island from that desolation which your, and their, obstinacy may bring upon it. "although i have now been welcomed by a considerable part of the island, with my commission published--that being to appoint your governor for the state of england--yet i am still the same reasonable man as before and hold forth the same grace and favor to you i formerly did, being resolved no change of fortune shall change my nature. thus i invite you to accept this same commission as the others have done--in recognition that we each now possess considerable portions of this noble island. . . ." _briggs stepped forward. "i already see there's deceit in it. they hold oistins, not an acre more. with the men and horse we've got . . ." "let me read the rest." bedford interrupted. "there're only a few lines more." he lifted the candle closer and continued. _"therefore i am bound in honour as well as good nature to endeavour your preservations, to which purpose i have enclosed the articles which the windward regiment have accepted. if you have any exceptions to these articles, let me know them by your commissioners and i shall appoint fit persons to consider them. by ratifying this negotiation you will prevent further effusion of blood, and will preserve your persons and estates from ruin. "if you doubt mine own power to grant these articles, know i shall engage not only mine own but the honour of the state of england which is as much as can be required by any rational man. and so i rest, your servant, admiral edmond calvert" _ briggs reached for the letter. "what's his prattle about honor, by god! this island's been betrayed by the very men who speak about it most." he gazed around at the members of the assembly. "they've already heard our 'exceptions' and their reply was to invade. i propose we settle this with arms, and then talk of honor." "there's a threat in that letter, for all the soothing words." a grizzled assembly member spoke up, fingering his bandolier. "calvert's saying we're in a war against the might of england, with our own people divided." "aye, but when you find out a dog you'd kick will bite back, you learn to stand clear of him." briggs waved him down. he thought again of the years of profits that lay just ahead, if only english control could be circumvented. "we've but to teach cromwell a sound lesson, and he'll let us be." "but does this dog you speak of have enough bite to drive back a full- scale invasion?" heathcott peered around him at the other members. the dark-beamed room grew silent as his question seemed to hang in the air. no one knew the full strength of the invading forces, now that they had been merged with the windwards. and, more importantly, whether the barbados militia would have the stomach to meet them. "he's here, yor worships." at that moment a thin, wiry servant in a brown shirt appeared at the doorway. behind him, in the hallway, another man had just been ushered in. he was hatless and wearing a powder-smeared jerkin. his face was drawn, but his eyes were intense. hugh winston was now in full command of the barbados militia, commissioned by unanimous vote of the assembly. "your servant, captain." bedford nodded a greeting. "we're waiting to hear what you've managed to learn." "my lads just got back. they say the roundheads haven't started moving upland yet. they're still encamped along the shore at oistins, and together with the windwards they're probably no more than a thousand strong." "by god, we can stop them after all." briggs squinted through the candlelight. "what are they doing now? preparing to march?" "doesn't appear so. at least not yet. they look to be waiting, while they off-load some of the heavy ordnance from the _marsten moor_. their nine-pounders. the guns have already been hoisted up on deck and made ready to bring ashore." "there you have it, gentlemen," briggs growled. "they'd try to lull us with talk of negotiation, whilst they prepare to turn their ships' guns against our citizens." bedford's eyes narrowed and he held up the letter. "then what shall our answer be? for my own part, i say if we want to stay our own masters, we'll have to fight." there were grave nods among the assembled men as bedford turned to winston. "how does it stand with the militia?" "i'd say we've got just about all the infantry and horse we're likely to muster. i've gone ahead and issued what's left of the powder and shot." he was still standing by the doorway. "we've got to move on out tonight and deploy around their position with whatever men, horse, and cannon we can manage, lest the weather change by morning and end our mobility." he thumbed toward the east. "there're some dark clouds moving in fast, and i don't care for the looks of them. there's some wind out of the west, too, off the ocean. though that may slow them down a bit." "what do you mean?" briggs eyed him. "it means the bay's doubtless picked up a little chop by now, so calvert and his officers may decide to wait till dawn to offload those heavy guns. it could give us just enough time." "then i take it you'd have us move out now, in the dark?" heathcott nervously peered out the window, widening the half-open shutters. "if we do, we've got a chance to deploy cannon on their perimeter, and then hit them at dawn while they're still unprepared. before they have a chance to fortify their position with that ship ordnance. they'll have the bay at their back and no heavy guns to speak of, save what's in the breastwork." "then i formally move that we draft a reply to this letter and send it over by one of our cavalry. lest they mistake our resolve." bedford's voice was hard. "and then we let captain winston move on out with the men." "aye, i second the motion." heathcott scrambled to his feet, his eyes ablaze. "let's prepare a response right now and get on with it." "it's done." whittington turned to a plump irish serving girt, who had been standing agog in the kitchen doorway watching this meeting of the barbados assembly in her master's parlor, and ordered quill and paper to be brought from his study. "gentlemen." bedford quieted the buzz in the room. "i propose we say something along the lines of the following: "i have read your letter and acquainted the council and assembly with it, and now return their resolution to you, in which they do continue with much wondering that what is rightfully theirs by law--being the governing of this island as it presently is--should be denied them." "aye," briggs inteijected. "and make mention of anthony walrond, if you please. lest he think we're not sensible that he's sold the island for his personal gain." "patience, sir." bedford gestured for quiet. "i would also add the following: "neither hath the treachery of one man so far discouraged us, nor the easiness of certain others being seduced by him so much weakened us, as that we should accept a dishonorable peace. and for the procuring of a just peace, none shall endeavor more than the lawful assembly of barbados or your servant, governor dalby bedford" "well phrased, as i'm a christian." whittington gravely nodded his approval. "they can mull over it all night if they choose. but there'll be no mistaking our resolve come the morrow." bedford called for a show of hands. every man in the room signified approval. "done." he quickly penned the letter, signed it with a flourish, and passed it to whittington. "have one of your servants call in the captain of the horse. we'll send this down to oistins right now. he can have his man take along the safe-conduct pass calvert sent with his letter." while whittington rang for the servants, bedford motioned toward winston. "now, captain. you've got your approval to move the militia. i propose we all move with it." he turned once more to the room. the men were already stirring, donning bandoliers and sorting out their muskets. "this meeting of the barbados assembly is hereby adjourned. it may be the last we ever hold, if we don't succeed tomorrow. may god preserve democracy in the americas. let's all say a prayer, gentlemen, as we ride." winston turned without a word and led the way as the group of black- hatted men moved out into the evening air. a crisp breeze had sprung up from the east, providing a cooling respite from the heat of the day. horses neighed and pawed in the lantern light, while the night was alive with the rattle of bandoliers. he strode to a circle of men waiting by the cistern at the side of the house and called for the officers. he was passing orders to mount and ride when a buzz of confusion rose up from the direction of the assemblymen emerging from the house. there were murmurs and pointing. "god's life, it's peculiar." heathcott was gazing toward the north, in the direction of the upland plantations. "i've never seen anything like it." winston turned to look. across the horizon a dull glow flickered out of the dark. before he had time to puzzle over what it might be, he heard a chorus of shouts from the servants' quarters at the rear of the house. "master whittington! there's a fire in the southern sixty. in the cane!" "damn me!" whittington trotted past the side of the house to look. at the base of the hill the red tongues of flame could be seen forking upward in the dark. "i was fearful something just like this might happen, what with all these careless militiamen idling about." "the militia's not camped down there, sir." briggs had moved alongside him to look. suddenly his eyes went wild. "god's blood! is that another fire we're seeing there in the north!" whittington watched the whip of flames a moment longer, as though disbelieving, and then his body seemed to come alive. "we've got to get some of these men down there and dig a break in the cane fields. stop it before it reaches this house." "i'm more worried about it reaching our heavy ordnance." winston gazed down the road toward the militia's encampment. "we've got to get our men and gun carriages mobilized and out of here." "i demand that some of these layabouts stay to try and save my cane." whittington pointed toward the crowd of militiamen at the foot of the rise. "they're doubtless the one's responsible." "that little cane fire will bum itself out soon enough." winston raised his hand. "we've got to move these men and supplies now. we can't wait around fighting cane fires." "damn me. god damn me." briggs' voice was shrill as he pushed his way through the crowd toward winston. "i'm beginning to think that glow we see in the north might well be a blaze on some of _my _acres." "well, even if it is, there's not much we can do now." "damned if there's not." briggs peered again at the horizon, then back at winston. "i've got to take my men over, as quick as we can ride. maybe we can still save it." "you'll not have a single horse, or man." winston raised his hand. "as soon as i brief my field commanders, we're moving on oistins. we have to be in position, with our cannon, before dawn. if we don't attack them before they've managed to offload the ordnance, we'll forfeit what little chance we've got." "are you mad, sir? we let these fires go unattended and we could well lose everything." briggs gazed around at the assemblymen. "there's the looks of a conspiracy in this. it's apt to be some sort of uprising, of the indentures or maybe even these damned africans. which means that we've got to protect our homes." winston watched in dismay as the assembled men began to grumble uncertainly. several were already calling for their horses. the night took on an air of fear. "let me tell you this, gentlemen." winston's voice sounded above the din. "we've got but one chance to stop the invasion, and that's to move our heavy guns and militia tonight. you have to decide whether you're going to do it." "damn me, sir, it's a matter of priorities." briggs' voice was almost a shout. "if we're burned out, it'll take us years to rebuild. reckoning with parliament would be nothing compared with the effects of a fire, or a slave uprising. i'll wager there's some kind of island-wide rebellion afoot, like we had a few years back." he was untying the reins of his horse from the porch railing. "i'm riding home and taking my indentures." he glared at winston. "the few i've got left. i've got a house and a sugar mill, and i intend to protect them." "i need that horse." winston stood unmoving. "tonight." "this nag belongs to me, sir." briggs swung heavily into the saddle. "you'll get her when i'm done, not a minute before." several of the other militiamen were nervously mounting, having realized with alarm that their own plantation houses were unprotected. winston whirled on bedford. "can't we stop this? if every man here with a house to worry about abandons us, i'll have nobody save my own men. am i expected to fight walrond's regiment, and the commonwealth, all by myself?" "i can't stop them." bedford shook his head. "maybe we can reassemble in the morning, assuming this rebellion matter can be contained." "but morning's going to be too late. by then the sea may let up, and they'll have their heavy ordnance in place." winston felt his gut tighten as he watched the cavalry and militia begin to disperse into the night. "they'll slice us to ribbons with cannon fire if we try to storm their position then." "this is not an army. it's a militia." bedford sighed. "no man here can be ordered to fight." "well, you've lost it. before you even began." he gave the governor a quick salute, then seized the reins of his gelding. the horse was still lathered from the run back from little island to bridgetown. "if it's going to be every man for himself, i've got my own affairs to look to. so damned to them. and to their sugar and slaves." "where are you going?" bedford stared at him gloomily. "if this war's as good as lost--which it is--then i've got to get the _defiance _afloat. as soon as i can." he vaulted into the saddle, and gave his horse the spur. "the americas just swapped liberty for sugar. they can have it." chapter sixteen they had waited in the open field to watch as the moon broke above the eastern horizon, sending faint pastel shimmers through the rows of cane. the first shadow cast by the moon on this the fourth day of the yoruba week--the day sacred to ogun--was the signal to begin. "may ogun be with you, son of balogun." tahajo, ancient and brittle as the stalks around them, bent over and brushed atiba's dusty feet. his voice could scarcely be heard above the chorus of crickets. "tonight, at the first coming of dark, when i could no longer see the lines in the palm of my hand, i sacrificed a cock to ogun, as a prayer that you succeed." atiba looked at him with surprise, secretly annoyed that tahajo had performed the sacrifice without his knowledge. but the old man had the prerogatives of an elder. "what did the sacrifice foretell?" "i could not discern, atiba, in truth i could not. the signs were mixed. but they seemed to hold warning." concern showed in his aged eyes. "know that if you do not succeed, there will be no refuge for any of us. remember what the elders of ife once warned, when our young men called for a campaign of war against the fulani in the north. they declared 'the locust can eat, the locust can drink, the locust can go-- but where can the grasshopper hide?' we are like grasshoppers, my son, with no compounds or women to return to for shelter if we fail." "we will not fail." atiba held up his new machete. its polished iron glistened in the light of the moon. "ogun will not turn his face from us." "then i pray for you, atiba." he sighed. "you are surely like the pigeon who feeds among the hawks, fearless of death." "tonight, tahajo, we are the hawks." "a hawk has talons." the old man looked up at the moon. "what do you have?" "we will have the claws of a leopard, of steel, before the sun returns." atiba saluted him in traditional fashion, then turned to obewole. the tall drummer's arms were heavy with bundles of straw, ready to be fired and hurled among the cane. "is everything prepared?" "the straw is ready." obewole glanced around at the expectant faces of the men as he stepped forward. "as we are. you alone have the flint." atiba called for quiet. next he intoned an invocation, a whisper under his breath, then circled the men and cast a few drops of water from a calabash toward the four corners of the world. "we will fire this field first." he stood facing them, proud of the determination in their faces. these men, he told himself, are among the finest warriors of ife. tonight the _branco _will learn how a yoruba fights for his people. "the west wind is freshening now and it will carry the flames to the other fields, those in the direction of the rising moon. next we will fire the curing house, where the _branco _keeps the sweet salt we have made for him with our own hands. then we will burn his mill house. . . ." obewole cast a nervous glance at atiba. "the mill house shelters the great machine made of the sacred iron of ogun. is it wisdom to bring shango's fire to that place, sacred to ogun?" "you know, good obewole, that in ife we say, 'do not expect to find a man wearing white cloth in the compound of a palm-oil maker.'" atiba's face was expressionless. "ogun's spirit is not in the mill house tonight. he is here with us." the drummer bowed in uncertain acknowledgement and turned to begin distributing the straw bundles down the line of men. the young warrior derin was first, and he eagerly called for two. atiba watched silently till each man had a sheaf of straw, then he intoned one last prayer. as the words died away into silence, he produced a flint and struck it against the blade of his machete. a shower of sparks flew against the bundle held by obewole. after the brown stalks had smoldered into flame, the drummer walked slowly down the line of men and, with a bow to each, fired the rest. serina settled the candle carefully atop the iron frame supporting the rollers, then stood for a moment studying the flickering shadows it cast across the thatched ceiling of the mill house. from the gables above her head came the chirp of crickets, mingled with the occasional night murmurs of nesting birds. the room exuded an eerie peacefulness; again it called to mind the sanctuary of whitewash and frangipani scent that had been her home in pernambuco. once before, the magic of this deserted mill house had transported her back to that place of long ago, back to gentle afternoons and soft voices and innocence. to the love of her yoruba mother dara, and the kindliness of an old _babalawo _so much like atiba. shango's spirit had taken her home. he had come to this place that night, and he had lifted her into his being and taken her back. and here, for the first time, she had understood his awesome power. shango. the great, terrifying god of west africa was now here in the caribbees, to guard his people. one day, she told herself, even the christians would be on their knees to him. carefully she unwrapped the wand--its wood carved with an african woman's fertile shape, then topped with a double-headed axe--and placed it beside the candle. atiba had made it with his own hands, and he always kept it hidden in his hut, as part of his _babalawo's _cache of sacred implements. the mill had not turned since the day the great ships of the ingles appeared in the bay, before the night of the storm. traces of white cassava flour were still mingled with the fine dust on the floor. the place where atiba had drawn shango's sign was . . . she squinted in the candlelight . . . was there, near the square comer of the iron frame. nothing remained now of the symbol save a scattering of pale powder. but across the room, near the post by the doorway, lay the small bag of cassava flour he had used. it must, she told herself, have been knocked there during the ceremony. perhaps it was not empty. timorously she picked it up and probed inside. some flour still remained, dry and fine as coral dust. as she drew out a handful and let it sift through her fingers, the idea came--almost as though shango had whispered it to her in the dark. the drawing of the double-headed axe. shango's sign. had it somehow summoned him that night? beckoned him forth from the ancient consciousness of africa, to this puny room? she stood for a moment and tried again to breathe a prayer. what precisely had atiba done? how had he drawn the symbol? her legs trembling, she knelt with a handful of the white powder and carefully began laying down the first line. it was not as straight as she had wished, nor was its width even, but the flour flowed more readily than she had thought it might. the symbol atiba had drawn was still etched in her memory. it was simple, powerful, it almost drew itself: the crossed lines, their ends joined, formed two triangles meeting at a common point, and then down the middle the bold stroke that was its handle. the drawing came into form so readily she found herself thinking that shango must be guiding her hand, urging her on in this uncertain homage to his power. she stood away and, taking the candle, studied the figure at her feet. the white seemed to undulate in the flickering light. she held the candle a moment longer, then reached out and placed it directly in the center of the double axe-head. perhaps it was a gust of wind, but the wick suddenly flared brighter, as though it now drew strength from the symbol it illuminated. the mill, the walls of the room, all glowed in its warm, quivering flame. was it imagination or was the candle now giving off that same pale radiance she remembered from languorous afternoons long ago in brazil-- the half-light of mist and rainbows that bathed their courtyard in a gossamer sheen when an afternoon storm swept overhead. she backed away, uneasy and disturbed, groping blindly toward the mill frame. when her touch caught the hard metal, she slipped her hand across the top till her grasp closed on the wand. the stone axe at its tip was strangely warm now, as though it had drawn heat from the iron. or perhaps it had been from the candle. she clasped it against her shift, feeling its warmth flow into her. first it filled her breasts with a sensation of whiteness, then it passed downward till it mingled in her thighs. it was a sensation of being fulfilled, brought to completeness, by some essence that flowed out of shango. she glanced back at the flickering candle. now it washed the drawing with a glow of yellow and gold. the candle, too, seemed to be becoming part of her. she wanted to draw its fiery tip into her body, to possess it. sweat poured down her thighs; and in its warmth she felt the desire of shango. as she clasped the wand ever more tightly against her breasts, she gasped, then shuddered. the white presence was entering her, taking her body for its own. she sensed a heat in her eyes, as though they might now bum through the dark. a heaviness was growing in her legs, and she planted her feet wide apart to receive and support the burden she felt swelling in her breasts. the room was hot and cold and dark and light. she no longer saw anything save whiteness. then she plunged the wand skyward and called out in a distant voice, resonant. "_e wa nibi! shango_!" * * * * * the flames billowed along the edge of the field, and the crackling of the cane swelled into a roar as a carpet of red crept up the hillside. clusters of gray rats scurried to escape, lending a chorus of high- pitched shrieks to the din. as the night breeze quickened from the west, it whipped the flames toward the dense, unharvested acres that lay beyond. suddenly the urgent clanging of a bell sounded from the direction of the main compound, and soon after, silhouettes appeared at the perimeter of the indentures' quarters, the circle of thatched-roof huts beside the pathway leading to the sugarworks. figures of straw-hatted women--the men were all gone away with the militia--stood out against the moonlit sky is they watched in fearful silence. never had a fire in the fields erupted so suddenly. _now_! atiba wanted to shout. _join us_! throw off your chains. free yourselves! he had not been able to enlist their help sooner, for fear a traitor among them might betray the revolt. but now, now they would see that freedom was within their grasp. he tried to call to them. to beckon them forward. give me the words, mighty ogun. tell me the words that will make the _branco_ slaves join us. but the prayer passed unanswered. he watched in dismay as the women began, one by one, to back away, to retreat toward their huts in awe and dread. still, they had done nothing to try and halt the flames. so perhaps there still was hope. if they were afraid to join the rebellion, neither would they raise a hand to save the wealth of their _branco _master. also, these were but women. women did not fight. women tended the compounds of warriors. when the men returned, the rebellion would begin. they would seize their chance to kill the _branco _master who enslaved them. he signaled the other yoruba, who moved on quickly toward the curing house, where the pots of white sugar waited. the sky had taken on a deep red glow, as the low-lying clouds racing past reflected back the ochre hue of flames from fields in the south. across the island, the men of the yoruba had honored their vows. they had risen up. atiba noticed the savor of victory in his mouth, that hardening of muscle when the foe is being driven before your sword, fleeing the field. it was a strong taste, dry and cutting, a taste he had known before. something entered your blood at a moment like this, something more powerful, more commanding, than your own self. as they pushed through the low shrubs leading toward the sugarworks, he raised his hand and absently touched the three clan marks down his cheek, their shallow furrows reminding him once again of his people. tonight, he told himself, all the men of ife would be proud. "atiba, son of balogun, i must tell you my thoughts." old tahajo had moved forward, ahead of the others. "i do not think it is good, this thing you would have us do now." "what do you mean?" atiba eased his own pace slightly, as though to signify deference. "a yoruba may set fires in the forest, to drive out a cowardly foe. it is all part of war. but we do not fire his compounds, the compounds that shelter his women." "the curing house where sugar is kept is not the compound of the _branco's _women." atiba quickened his stride again, to reassert his leadership, and to prevent the other men from hearing tahajo's censure, however misguided. "it's a part of his fields. together they nourish him, like palm oil and salt. together they must be destroyed." "but that is not warfare, atiba. that is vengeance." the old man persisted. "i have set a torch to the fields of an enemy--before you were born the fulani once forced such a course upon us, by breaking the sacred truce during the harvest festival--but no yoruba would deliberately burn the seed yams in his enemy's barn." "this barn does not hold his yams; it holds the fruits of our unjust slavery. the two are not the same." "atiba, you are like that large rooster in my eldest wife's compound, who would not suffer the smaller ones to crow. my words are no more than summer wind to you." the old man sighed. "you would scorn the justice shango demands. this is a fearsome thing you would have us do now." "then i will bear shango's wrath on my own head. ogun would have us do this, and he is the god we honor tonight. it is our duty to him." he moved on ahead, leaving tahajo to follow in silence. the thatched roof of the curing house was ahead in the dark, a jagged outline against the rosy sky beyond. without pausing he opened the door and led the way. all the men knew the room well; standing before them were long rows of wooden molds, containers they had carried there themselves, while a _branco _overseer with a whip stood by. "these were placed here with our own hands. those same hands will now destroy them." he looked up. "what better justice could there be?" he sparked the flint off his machete, against one of the straw bundles, and watched the blaze a moment in silence. this flame, he told himself, would exact the perfect revenge. revenge. the word had come, unbidden. yes, truly it was revenge. but this act was also justice. he recalled the proverb: "one day's rain makes up for many days' drought." tonight one torch would make up for many weeks of whippings, starvation, humiliation. "mark me well." atiba held the burning straw aloft and turned to address the men. "these pots are the last sugar you will ever see on this island. this, and the cane from which it was made, all will be gone, never to return. the forests of the orisa will thrive here once more." he held the flaming bundle above his head a moment longer, while he intoned a verse in praise of ogun, and then flung it against the thatched wall behind him, where it splayed against a post and disintegrated. they all watched as the dry-reed wall smoldered in the half-darkness, then blossomed with small tongues of fire. quickly he led them out again, through the narrow doorway and into the cool night. the west wind whipped the palm trees now, growing ever fresher. already the flame had scaled the reed walls of the curing house, and now it burst through the thatched roof like the opening of a lush tropical flower. as they made ready to hurry on up the path toward the mill room, the drum of hoofbeats sounded through the night. next came frantic shouts from the direction of the great house. it was the voice of benjamin briggs. atiba motioned them into the shadows, where they watched in dismay as a scattering of white indentures began lumbering down the hill, toting buckets of water and shovels, headed for the burning fields. the yoruba men all turned to atiba, disbelieving. the male _branco _slaves had not risen up. they had come back to aid in the perpetuation of their own servitude. as atiba watched the fire brigade, he felt his contempt rising, and his anger. could they not see that this was the moment? but instead of turning their guns on their enemy, setting torch to his house, declaring themselves free--the _branco _slaves had cravenly done as briggs commanded. they were no better than their women. "the _branco _chief has returned to his compound. like him, all the _branco _masters on the island must now be trembling in fear." atiba felt his heart sink as he motioned the men forward. finally he understood the whites. serina had been right. color counted for more than slavery. now more than ever they needed the muskets from the ship. "quickly. we must burn the mill, then go and seize the guns. there's no time to lose." the mill house was only a short distance farther up the hill. they left the path and moved urgently through the brush and palms toward the back of the thatched building. it stood silent, waiting, a dark silhouette against the glowing horizon. "atiba, there is no longer time for this." obewole moved to the front of the line and glanced nervously at the darkening skies. heavy clouds obscured the moon, and the wind had grown sharp. "we must hurry to the ship as soon as we can and seize the _branco's _guns. this mill house is a small matter; the guns are a heavy one. the others will be there soon, waiting for us." "no. this must burn too. we will melt forever the chains that enslave us." he pressed quickly up the slope toward the low thatched building. from the center of the roof the high pole projected skyward, still scorched where the lightning of shango had touched it the night of the ceremony. "then hurry. the flint." obewole held out the last bundle of straw toward atiba as they edged under the thatched eaves. "there's no time to go in and pray here." atiba nodded and out of his hand a quick flash, like the pulse of a caribbean firefly, shot through the dark. shango was with her, part of her. as serina dropped to her knees, before the drawing of the axe, she no longer knew who she was, where she was. unnoticed, the dull glow from the open doorway grew brighter, as the fires in the cane fields beyond raged. "shango, _nibo l'o nlo? _shango?" she knelt mumbling, sweat soaking through her shift. the words came over and over, almost like the numbing cadence of the christian rosary, blotting out all other sounds. she had heard nothing--not the shouts at the main house nor the ringing of the fire bell nor the dull roar of flames in the night air. but then, finally, she did sense faint voices, in yoruba, and she knew shango was there. but soon those voices were lost, blurred by the distant chorus of crackling sounds that seemed to murmur back her own whispered words. the air around her had grown dense, suffocating. dimly, painfully she began to realize that the walls around her had turned to fire. she watched, mesmerized, as small flame-tips danced in circles of red and yellow and gold, then leapt and spun in pirouettes across the rafters of the heavy thatched roof. shango had sent her a vision. it could not be real. then a patch of flame plummeted onto the floor beside her, and soon chunks of burning straw were raining about her. feebly, fear surging through her now, she attempted to rise. her legs refused to move. she watched the flames in terror for a moment, and then she remembered the wand, still in her outstretched hand. without thinking, she clasped it again to her pounding breast. as the room disappeared in smoke, she called out the only word she still remembered. "shango!" the collapse of the burning thatched wall behind her masked the deep, sonorous crack that sounded over the hillside. "damn me!" benjamin briggs dropped his wooden bucket and watched as the dark cloudbank hovering in the west abruptly flared. then a boom of thunder shook the night sky. its sound seemed to unleash a pent-up torrent, as a dense sheet of island rain slammed against the hillside around him with the force of a mallet. the fires that blazed in the fields down the hill began to sputter into boiling clouds of steam as they were swallowed in wave after wave of the downpour. the night grew suddenly dark again, save for the crisscross of lightning in the skies. "for once, a rain when we needed it. it'll save the sugar, by my life." he turned and yelled for the indentures to reclaim their weapons and assemble. "try and keep your matchcord dry." he watched with satisfaction as the men, faces smeared with smoke, lined up in front of him. "we've got to round up the africans now, and try and find out who's responsible for this. god is my witness, i may well hang a couple this very night to make an example." "i think i saw a crowd of them headed up toward the mill house, just before the rain started in." the indenture's tanned face was emerging as the rain purged away the soot. "like as not, they were thinkin' they'd fire that too." "god damn them all. we lose the mill and we're ruined." he paused, then his voice came as a yell. "god's blood! the curing house! some of you get over there quick. they might've tried to fire that as well. i've got a fortune in white sugar curing out." he looked up and pointed at two of the men, their straw hats dripping in the rain. "you, and you. move or i'll have your hide. see there's nothing amiss." "aye, yor worship." the men whirled and were gone. "now, lads." briggs turned back to the others. a half dozen men were left, all carrying ancient matchlock muskets. "keep an eye on your matchcord, and let's spread out and collect these savages." he quickly checked the prime on his flintlock musket and cocked it. "we've got to stop them before they try to burn the main house." he stared through the rain, then headed up the hill, in the direction of the mill house. "and stay close to me. they're rampaging like a pack of wild island hogs." something was slapping at the smoldering straw in her hair and she felt a hand caress her face, then an arm slide beneath her. the room, the mill, all were swallowed in dark, blinding smoke; now she was aware only of the heat and the closeness of the powerful arms that lifted her off the flame-strewn floor. then there were other voices, faraway shouts, in the same musical language that she heard whispered against her ear. the shouts seemed to be directed at the man who held her, urging him to leave her, to come with them, to escape while there was time. yet still he held her, his cheek close against her own. slowly atiba rose, holding her body cradled against him, and pushed through the smoke. the heat was drifting away now, and she felt the gentle spatters of rain against her face as sections of the water- soaked thatched roof collapsed around them, opening the room to the sky. the sound of distant gunfire cut through the night air as he pushed out the doorway into the dark. she felt his body stiffen, painfully, as though he had received the bullets in his own chest. but no, the firing was down the hill, somewhere along the road leading to the coast. the cold wetness of the rain, and the warmth of the body she knew so well, awoke her as though from a dream. "you must go." she heard her own voice. why had he bothered to save her, instead of leading his own men to safety. she was nothing now. the revolt had started; they must fight or be killed. "hurry. before the _branco _come." as she struggled to regain her feet, to urge him on to safety, she found herself wanting to flee also. to be with him, in death as in life. if he were gone, what would there be to live for. . .? "we have failed." he was caressing her with his sad eyes. "did you hear the thunder? it was the voice of shango." now he looked away, and his body seemed to wither from some grief deep within. "i somehow displeased shango. and now he has struck us down. even ogun is not powerful enough to overcome the god who commands the skies." "it was because i wanted to protect you." he looked down at her quizzically. "i didn't know you were in the mill house till i heard you call out shango's name. why were you there tonight, alone?" "i was praying." she avoided his dark eyes, wishing she could say more. "praying that you would stop, before it was too late. i knew you could not succeed. i was afraid you would be killed." he embraced her, then ran his wide hand through her wet, singed hair. "sometimes merely doing what must be done is its own victory. i'll not live a slave. never." he held her again, tenderly, then turned away. "remember always to live and die with honor. let no man ever forget what we tried to do here tonight." he was moving down the hill now, his machete in his hand. "no!" she was running after him, half-blinded by the rain. "don't try to fight any more. leave. you can hide. we'll escape!" "a yoruba does not hide from his enemies. i will not dishonor the compound of my father. i will stand and face the man who has wronged me." "no! please!" she was reaching to pull him back when a voice came out of the dark, from the pathway down below. "halt, by god!" it was benjamin briggs, squinting through the downpour. "so it's you. i might have known. you were behind this, i'll stake my life. stop where you are, by jesus, or i'll blow you to hell like the other two savages who came at my men." she found herself wondering if the musket would fire. the rain was still a torrent. then she felt atiba's hand shove her aside and saw his dark form hurtle down the trail toward the planter. grasping his machete, he moved almost as a cat: bobbing, weaving, surefooted and deadly. the rain was split by the crack of a musket discharge, and she saw him slip momentarily and twist sideways. his machete clattered into the dark as he struggled to regain his balance, but he had not slowed his attack. when he reached briggs, he easily ducked the swinging butt of the musket. then his left hand closed about the planter's throat and together they went down in the mud, to the sound of briggs' choked yells. when she reached them, they were sprawled in the gully beside the path, now a muddy flood of water from the hill above. atiba's right arm dangled uselessly, but he held the planter pinned against the mud with his knee, while his left hand closed against the throat. there were no more yells, only deathly silence. "no! don't!" she was screaming, her arms around atiba's neck as she tried to pull him away. he glanced up at her, dazed, and his grip on briggs' throat loosened slightly. the planter lay gasping and choking in the rain. "dara . . .!" atiba was looking past her and yelling a warning when the butt of the matchlock caught him across the chest. she fell with him as three straw-hatted indentures swarmed over them both. "by god, i'll hang the savage with my own hands." briggs was still gasping as he began to pull himself up out of the mud. he choked again and turned to vomit; then he struggled to his feet. "tie the whoreson down. he's like a mad dog." "he's been shot, yor worship." one of the indentures was studying the blood on his hands, from where he had been holding atiba's shoulder. "would you have us attend to this wound?" "i shot the savage myself." briggs glared at them. "no credit to the lot of you. then he well nigh strangled me. he's still strong as a bull. don't trouble with that shot wound. i'll not waste the swathing cloth." he paused again to cough and rub his throat. "he's going to have a noose around his neck as soon as the rain lets up." briggs walked over to where atiba lay, his arms pinned against the ground and a pike against his chest. "may god damn you, sir. i just learned you managed to burn and ruin a good half the sugar in my curing house." he choked again and spat into the rain. then he turned back. "would you could understand what i'm saying, you savage. but mark this. every black on this island's going to know it when i have you hanged, you can be sure. it'll put a stop to any more of these devilish plots, as i'm a christian." serina felt her eyes brimming with tears. in trying to save him, she had brought about his death. but everything she had done had been out of devotion. would he ever understand that? still, perhaps there was time . . . "are you well, master briggs?" she turned to the planter. her cinnamon fingers stroked lightly along his throat. "aye. and i suppose there's some thanks for you in it." he looked at her, puzzling at the wet, singed strands of hair across her face. "i presume the savage was thinking to make off with you, to use you for his carnal lusts, when i haply put a halt to the business." "i have you to thank." "well, you were some help to me in the bargain, i'll own it. so there's an end on the matter." he glanced at atiba, then back at her. "see to it these shiftless indentures tie him up like he was a bull. wound or no, he's still a threat to life. to yours as well as mine." even as he spoke, a dark shadow seemed to drop out of the rain. she glanced up and just managed to recognize the form of derin, his machete poised above his head like a scythe. it flashed in the lantern light as he brought it down against the arm of one of the indentures holding atiba. the straw-hatted man screamed and doubled over. what happened next was blurred, shrouded in the dark. atiba was on his feet, flinging aside the other indentures. then he seized his own machete out of the mud with his left hand and turned on briggs. but before he could move, derin jostled against him and grabbed his arm. there were sharp words in yoruba and atiba paused, a frozen silhouette poised above the planter. "by christ, i'll . . ." briggs was drawing the long pistol from his belt when atiba suddenly turned away. the gun came up and fired, but the two yoruba warriors were already gone, swallowed in the night. "well, go after them, god damn you." the planter was shouting at the huddled, terrified indentures. "not a man on this plantation is going to sleep till both those heathens are hanged and quartered." as the indentures gingerly started down the hill in the direction atiba and derin had gone, briggs turned and, still coughing, headed purposefully up the pathway toward the remains of the mill room. the burned-away roof had collapsed entirely, leaving the first sugar mill on barbados open to the rain--its wide copper rollers sparkling like new. chapter seventeen "heave, masters!" winston was waist deep in the surf, throwing his shoulder against the line attached to the bow of the _defiance_. "the sea's as high as it's likely to get. there'll never be a better time to set her afloat." joan fuller stood on deck, by the bulwark along the waist of the ship, supporting herself with the mainmast shrouds as she peered down through the rain. she held her bonnet in her hand, leaving her yellow hair plastered across her face in water-soaked strands. at winston's request, she had brought down one of her last kegs of kill-devil. it was waiting, safely lashed to the mainmast, a visible inducement to effort. "heave . . . ho." the cadence sounded down the line of seamen as they grunted and leaned into the chop, tugging on the slippery line. incoming waves washed over the men, leaving them alternately choking and cursing, but the rise in sea level brought about by the storm meant the _defiance_ was already virtually afloat. helped by the men it was slowly disengaging from the sandy mud; with each wave the bow would bob upward, then sink back a few inches farther into the bay. "she's all but free, masters." winston urged them on. "heave. for your lives, by god." he glanced back at john mewes and yelled through the rain, "how're the stores?" mewes spat out a mouthful of foam. "there's enough water and salt pork in the hold to get us up to nevis island, mayhaps. if the damned fleet doesn't blockade it first." he bobbed backward as a wave crashed against his face. "there's talk the whoresons could sail north after here." "aye, they may stand for virginia when they've done with the caribbees. but they'll likely put in at st. christopher and nevis first, just to make sure they humble every freeborn englishman in the americas." winston tugged again and watched the _defiance_ slide another foot seaward. "but with any luck we'll be north before them." he pointed toward the dim mast lanterns of the english gunships offshore. "all we have to do is slip past those frigates across the bay." the men heaved once more and the weathered bow dipped sideways. then all at once, as though by the hand of nature, the _defiance _was suddenly drifting in the surf. a cheer rose up, and winston pushed his way within reach of the rope ladder dangling amidships. as he clambered over the bulwark joan was waiting with congratulations. "you did it. on my honor, i thought this rotted-out tub was beached for keeps." she bussed him on the cheek. "though i fancy you might've lived longer if it'd stayed where it was." mewes pulled himself over the railing after winston and plopped his feet down onto the wet deck. he winked at joan and held out his arms. "no kiss for the quartermaster, yor ladyship? i was workin' too, by my life." "get on with you, you tub of lard." she swiped at him with the waterlogged bonnet she held. "you and the rest of this crew of layabouts might get a tot of kill-devil if you're lucky. which is more than you deserve, considering how much some of you owe me already." "try heaving her out a little farther, masters." winston was holding the whipstaff while he yelled from the quarterdeck. "she's coming about now. we'll drop anchor in a couple of fathoms, nothing more." while the hull drifted out into the night and surf, winston watched john mewes kneel by the bulwark at the waist of the ship and begin to take soundings with a length of knotted rope. "two fathoms, cap'n, by the looks of it. what do you think?" "that's enough to drop anchor, john. i want to keep her in close. no sense alerting the roundheads we're afloat." mewes shouted toward the portside bow and a seaman began to feed out the anchor cable. winston watched as it rattled into the surf, then he made his way along the rainswept deck back to the starboard gallery at the stern and shoved another large anchor over the side. it splashed into the waves and disappeared, its cable whipping against the taffrail. "that ought to keep her from drifting. there may be some maintopman out there in the fleet who'd take notice." whereas fully half the commonwealth's ships had sailed for oistins bay to assist in the invasion, a few of the larger frigates had kept to station, their ordnance trained on the harbor. "all aboard, masters. there's a tot of kill-devil waiting for every man, down by the mainmast." winston was calling over the railing, toward the seamen now paddling through the dark along the side of the ship. "john's taking care of it. any man who's thirsty, come topside. we'll christen the launch." the seamen sounded their approval and began to scramble up. many did not wait their turn to use the rope ladders. instead they seized the rusty deadeyes that held the shrouds, found toeholds in the closed gunports, and pulled themselves up within reach of the gunwales. winston watched approvingly as the shirtless hoard came swarming onto the deck with menacing ease. these were still his lads, he told himself with a smile. they could storm and seize a ship before most of its crew managed even to cock a musket. good men to have on hand, given what lay ahead. "when're you thinkin' you'll try for open sea?" joan had followed him up the slippery companionway to the quarterdeck. "there's a good half-dozen frigates hove-to out there, doubtless all with their bleedin' guns run out and primed. i'll wager they'd like nothing better than catchin' you to leeward." "this squall's likely to blow out in a day or so, and when it does, we're going to pick a dark night, weigh anchor, and make a run for it. by then the roundheads will probably be moving on bridgetown, so we won't have a lot of time to dally about." he looked out toward the lights of the english fleet. "i'd almost as soon give it a try tonight. damn this foul weather." she studied the bobbing pinpoints at the horizon skeptically. "do you really think you can get past them?" he smiled. "care to wager on it? i've had a special set of short sails made up, and if it's dark enough, i think we can probably slip right through. otherwise, we'll just run out the guns and take them on." joan looked back. "you could be leaving just in time, i'll grant you. there're apt to be dark days ahead here. what do you think'll happen with this militia now?" "barbados' heroic freedom fighters? i'd say they'll be disarmed and sent packing. back to the cane and tobacco fields where they'd probably just as soon be anyway. the grand american revolution is finished. tonight, when the militia should be moving everything they've got up to oistins, they're off worrying about cane fires, letting the roundheads get set to offload their heavy guns. by the time the rains let up and there can be a real engagement, the english infantry'll have ordnance in place and there'll be nothing to meet them with. they can't be repulsed. it's over." he looked at her. "so the only thing left for me is to get out of here while i still can. and stand for jamaica." "that daft scheme!" she laughed ruefully and brushed the dripping hair from her face. "you'd be better off going up to bermuda for a while, or anywhere, till things cool off. you've not got the men to do anything else." "maybe i can still collect a few of my indentures." "and maybe you'll see puritans dancin' at a papist wedding." she scoffed. "let me tell you something. those indentures are going to scatter like a flock of hens the minute the militia's disbanded. they'll not risk their skin goin' off with you to storm that fortress over at villa de la vega. if you know what's good for you, you'll forget jamaica." "don't count me out yet. there's still another way to get the men i need." he walked to the railing and gazed out into the rain. "i've been thinking i might try getting some help another place." "and where, pray, could that be?" "you're not going to think much of what i have in mind." he caught her eye and realized she'd already guessed his plan. "that's a fool's errand for sure." "kindly don't go prating it about. the truth is, i'm not sure yet what i'll do. who's to say?" "you're a lying rogue, hugh winston. you've already made up your mind. but if you're not careful, you'll be in a worse bind than this. . . ." "beggin' yor pardon, cap'n, it looks as if we've got a visitor." mewes was moving up the dark companionway to the quarterdeck. he spat into the rain, then cast an uncomfortable glance toward joan. "mayhaps you'd best come down and handle the orders." winston turned and followed him onto the main deck. through the dark a white horse could be seen prancing in the gusts of rain along the shore. a woman was in the saddle, waving silently at the ship, oblivious to the squall. "aye, permission to come aboard. get her the longboat, john." he thumbed at the small pinnace dangling from the side of the ship. "just don't light a lantern." mewes laughed. "i'd give a hundred sovereigns to the man who could spark up a candle lantern in this weather!" winston looked up to see joan slowly descending the companionway from the quarterdeck. they watched in silence as the longboat was lowered and oarsmen began rowing it the few yards to shore. "well, this is quite a sight, if i may say." her voice was contemptuous as she broke the silence. suddenly she began to brush at her hair, attempting to straighten out the tangles. "i've never known 'her ladyship' to venture out on a night like this. . . ." she turned and glared at winston. "though i've heard talk she managed to get herself aboard the _defiance _once before in a storm." "you've got big ears." "enough to keep track of your follies. do you suppose your lads don't take occasion to talk when they've a bit of kill-devil in their bellies? you should be more discreet, or else pay them better." "i pay them more than they're worth now." "well, they were most admirin' of your little conquest. or was the conquest hers?" "joan, why don't you just let it rest?" he moved to the railing at midships and reached down to help katherine up the rope ladder. "what's happened? this is the very devil of a night. . . ." "hugh . . ." she was about to throw her arms around him when she noticed joan. she stopped dead still, then turned and nodded with cold formality. "your servant . . . madam." "your ladyship's most obedient . . ." joan curtsied back with a cordiality hewn from ice. they examined each other a moment in silence. then katherine seemed to dismiss her as she turned back to winston. "please. won't you come back and help? just for tonight?" he reached for her hand and felt it trembling. "help you? what do you mean?" his voice quickened. "don't tell me the roundheads have already started marching on bridgetown." "not that we know of. but now that the rain's put out the cane fires, a few of the militia have started regrouping. with their horses." she squeezed his hand in her own. "maybe we could still try an attack on the oistins breastwork at dawn." "you don't have a chance. now that the rains have begun, you can't move up any cannon. the roads are like rivers. but they've got heavy ordnance. the roundheads have doubtless got those cannons in the breastwork turned around now and covering the road. if we'd have marched last evening, we could've moved up some guns of our own, and then hit them at first light. before they expected an attack. but now it's too late." he examined her sadly. her face was drawn and her hair was plastered against her cheeks. "it's over, katy. barbados is lost." "but you said you'd fight, even if you had nobody but your own men." "briggs and the rest of them managed to change my mind for me. why should i risk anything? they won't." she stood unmoving, still grasping his hand. "then you're really leaving?" "i am." he looked at her. "i still wish you'd decide to go with me. god knows . . ." suddenly she pulled down his face and kissed him on the lips, lingering as the taste of rain flooded her mouth. finally she pulled away. "i can't think now. at least about that. but for god's sake please help us tonight. let us use those flintlocks you've got here on the ship. they're dry. the roundhead infantry probably has mostly matchlocks, and they'll be wet. with your muskets maybe we can make up for the difference in our numbers." he examined her skeptically. "just exactly whose idea is this, katy?" "who do you suppose? nobody else knows you've got them." "anthony walrond knows." winston laughed. "i'll say one thing. it would be perfect justice." "then use them to arm our militia. with your guns, maybe--" "i'll be needing those flintlocks where i'm going." joan pushed forward with a scowl. "give me leave to put you in mind, madam, that those muskets belong to hugh. not to the worthless militia on this island." she turned on winston. "don't be daft. you give those new flintlocks over to the militia and you'll never see half of them again. you know that as well as i do." he stood studying the locked fo'c'sle in silence. "i'll grant you that. i'd be a perfect fool to let the militia get hold of them." "hugh, what happened to all your talk of honor?" katherine drew back. "i thought you were going to fight to the last." "i told you . . ." he paused as he gazed into the rain for a long moment. finally he looked back. "i'd say there is one small chance left. if we went in with a few men, before it gets light, maybe we could spike the cannon in the breastwork. then at least it would be an even battle." "would you try it?" he took her hand, ignoring joan's withering glare. "maybe i do owe anthony walrond a little farewell party. in appreciation for his selling this island, and me with it, to the god damned roundheads." "then you'll come?" "how about this? if i can manage to get some of my lads over to oistins before daybreak, we might try paying them a little surprise." he grinned. "it would be good practice for jamaica." "then stay and help us fight. how can we just give up, when there's still a chance? they can't keep up their blockade forever. then we'll be done with england, have a free nation here. . . ." he shook his head in resignation, then turned up his face to feel the rain. he stood for a time, the two women watching him as the downpour washed across his cheeks. "there's no freedom on this island anymore. there may never be again. but maybe i do owe anthony walrond and his windwards a lesson in honor." he looked back. "all right. but go back up to the compound. you'd best stay clear of this." before she could respond, he turned and signaled toward mewes. "john. unlock the muskets and call all hands on deck." dalby bedford was standing in the doorway of the makeshift tent, peering into the dark. he spotted winston, trailed by a crowd of shirtless seamen walking up the road between the rows of rain-whipped palms. "god's life. is that who it looks to be?" "what the plague! the knave had the brass to come back?" colonel george heathcott pushed his way through the milling crowd of militia officers and moved alongside bedford to stare. "as though we hadn't enough confusion already." the governor's plumed hat and doublet were soaked. while the storm had swept the island, he had taken command of the militia, keeping together a remnant of men and officers. but now, only two hours before dawn, the squall still showed no signs of abating. even with the men who had returned, the ranks of the militia had been diminished to a fraction of its former strength--since many planters were still hunting down runaways, or had barricaded themselves and their families in their homes for safety. several plantation houses along the west coast had been burned, and through the rain random gunfire could still be heard as slaves were being pursued. though the rebellion had been routed, a few pockets of africans, armed with machetes, remained at large. the recapture of the slaves was now merely a matter of time. but that very time, bedford realized, might represent the difference between victory and defeat. "those men with him are all carrying something." heathcott squinted through the rain at the line of men trailing after winston. "by god, i'd venture those could be muskets. maybe he's managed to locate a few more matchlocks for us." he heaved a deep breath. "though they'll be damned useless in this rain." "your servant, captain." bedford bowed lightly as winston ducked under the raised flap at the entrance of the lean-to shelter. "here to join us?" "i thought we might come back over for a while." he glanced around at the scattering of officers in the tent. "who wants to help me go down to the breastwork and see if we can spike whatever guns they've got? if we did that, maybe you could muster enough men to try storming the place when it gets light." "you're apt to be met by five hundred men with pikes, sir, and anthony walrond at their head." heathcott's voice was filled with dismay. "three or four for every one we've got. we don't have the men to take and hold that breastwork now, not till some more of the militia get back." "if those guns aren't spiked by dawn, you'd as well just go ahead and surrender and have done with it." he looked around the tent. "mind if i let the boys come in out of the rain to prime their muskets?" "muskets?" heathcott examined him. "you'll not be using matchlocks, not in this weather. i doubt a man could keep his matchcord lit long enough to take aim." "i sure as hell don't plan to try taking the breastwork with nothing but pikes." winston turned and gestured for the men to enter the tent. dick hawkins led the way, unshaven, shirtless, and carrying two oilcloth bundles. after him came edwin spurre, cursing the rain as he set down two bundles of his own. over a dozen other seamen followed. "this tent is for the command, sir." heathcott advanced on winston. "i don't know what authority you think you have to start bringing in your men." "we can't prime muskets in the rain." "sir, you're no longer in charge here, and we've all had quite . . ." his glance fell on the bundle spurre was unwrapping. the candle lantern cast a golden glow over a shiny new flintlock. the barrel was damascened in gold, and the stock was fine italian walnut inlaid with mother of pearl. both the serpentine cock and the heel plate on the stock were engraved and gilt. "good god, where did that piece come from?" "from my personal arsenal." winston watched as spurre slipped out the ramrod and began loading and priming the flintlock. then he continued, "these muskets don't belong to your militia. they're just for my own men, here tonight." "if you can keep them dry," heathcott's voice quickened, "maybe you could . . ." "they should be good for at least one round, before the lock gets damp." winston turned to heathcott. "they won't be expecting us now. so if your men can help us hold the breastwork while we spike those cannon, we might just manage it." "and these guns?" heathcott was still admiring the muskets. "we won't use them any more than we have to." winston walked down the line of officers. "there's apt to be some hand-to-hand fighting if their infantry gets wind of what's afoot and tries to rush the emplacement while we're still up there. how many of your militiamen have the stomach for that kind of assignment?" the tent fell silent save for the drumbeat of rain. the officers all knew that to move on the breastwork now would be the ultimate test of their will to win. the question on every man's mind was whether their militia still possessed that will. but the alternative was most likely a brief and ignominious defeat on the field, followed by unconditional surrender. they gathered in a huddle at the rear of the tent, a cluster of black hats, while winston's men continued priming the guns. "damn'd well-made piece, this one." edwin spurre was admiring the gilded trigger of his musket. "i hope she shoots as fine as she feels." he looked up at winston. "i think we can keep the powder pan dry enough if we take care. they've all got a cover that's been specially fitted." winston laughed. "only the best for sir anthony. let's make sure he finds out how much we appreciate the gun- smithing he paid for." "it's a risk, sir. damned if it's not." heathcott broke from the huddle and approached winston. "but with these flintlocks we might have an advantage. they'll not be expecting us now. maybe we can find some men to back you up." "we could use the help. but i only want volunteers." winston surveyed the tent. "and they can't be a lot of untested farmers who'll panic and run if the roundheads try and make a charge." "well and good." bedford nodded, then turned to heathcott. "i'll be the first volunteer. we're running out of time." winston reached for a musket. "then let's get on with it." * * * * * rain now, all about them, engulfing them, the dense caribbean torrent that erases the edge between earth, sky, and sea. winston felt as though they were swimming in it, the gusts wet against his face, soaking through his leather jerkin, awash in his boots. the earth seemed caught in a vast ephemeral river which oscillated like a pendulum between ocean and sky. in the caribbees this water from the skies was different from anywhere else he had ever known. the heavens, like a brooding deity, first scorched the islands with a white-hot sun, then purged the heat with warm, remorseless tears. why had he come back to oistins? to chance his life once more in the service of liberty? the very thought brought a wry smile. he now realized there would never be liberty in this slave-owning corner of the americas. too much wealth was at stake for england to let go of this shiny new coin in cromwell's exchequer. the puritans who ruled england would keep barbados at any cost, and they would see to it that slavery stayed. no. coming back now was a personal point. principle. if you'd go back on your word, there was little else you wouldn't scruple to do as well. maybe freedom didn't have a chance here, but you fought the fight you were given. you didn't betray your cause, the way anthony walrond had. "there look to be lighted linstocks up there, cap'n. they're ready." edwin spurre nodded toward the tall outline of the breastwork up ahead. it was a heavy brick fortification designed to protect the gun emplacements against cannon fire from the sea. the flicker of lantern light revealed that the cannon had been rolled around, directed back toward the roadway, in open view. "we've got to see those linstocks are never used." he paused and motioned for the men to circle around him. their flintlocks were still swathed in oilcloth. "we need to give them a little surprise, masters. so hold your fire as long as you can. anyway, we're apt to need every musket if the windwards realize we're there and try to counterattack." "do you really think we can get up there, cap'n?" dick hawkins carefully set down a large brown sack holding spikes, hammers, and grapples--the last used for boarding vessels at sea. "it's damned high." "we're going to have to circle around and try taking it from the sea side, which is even higher. but that way they won't see us. also, we can't have bandoliers rattling, so we've got to leave them here. just take a couple of charge-holders in each pocket. there'll not be time for more anyway." he turned and examined the heavy brick of the breastwork. "now look lively. before they spot us." hawkins silently began lifting out the grapples--heavy barbed hooks that had been swathed with sailcloth so they would land soundlessly, each with fifty feet of line. winston picked one up and checked the wrapping on the prongs. would it catch and hold? maybe between the raised battlements. he watched as hawkins passed the other grapples among the men, eighteen of them all together. then they moved on through the night, circling around toward the seaward wall of the fortification. behind them the first contingent of volunteers from the barbados militia waited in the shadows. as soon as the gunners were overpowered by winston's men, they would advance and help hold the breastwork while the guns were being spiked. in the rainy dark neither winston nor his seamen noticed the small band of men, skin black as the night, who now edged forward silently through the shadows behind them. they had arrived at the _defiance _earlier that evening, only to discover it afloat, several yards at sea. then they had watched in dismay as winston led a band of seamen ashore in longboats, carrying the very muskets they had come to procure. could it be the guns were already primed and ready to fire? prudently atiba had insisted they hold back. they had followed through the rain, biding their time all the five-mile trek to oistins. then they had waited patiently while winston held council with the _branco _chiefs. finally they had seen the muskets being primed . . . which meant they could have been safely seized all along! but now time was running out. how to take the guns? it must be done quickly, while there still was dark to cover their escape into hiding. atiba watched as winston and the men quietly positioned themselves along the seaward side of the breastwork and began uncoiling the lines of their grapples. suddenly he sensed what was to happen next. perhaps now there was a way to get the guns after all. . . . "wait. and be ready." he motioned the men back into the shadows of a palm grove. then he darted through the rain. winston was circling the first grapple above his head, intended for the copestone along the top of the breastwork, when he heard a quiet portuguese whisper at his ear. "you will not succeed, senhor. the ingles will hear your hooks when they strike against the stone." "what the pox!" he whirled to see a tall black man standing behind him, a machete in his hand. "a life for a life, senhor. was that not what you said?" atiba glanced around him. the seamen stared in wordless astonishment. "do you wish to seize the great guns atop this fortress? then let my men do it for you. this is best done the yoruba way." "where the hell did you come from?" winston's whisper was almost drowned in the rain. "from out of the dark. remember, my skin is black. sometimes that is an advantage, even on an island owned by the white ingles." "briggs will kill you if he catches you here." atiba laughed. "i could have killed him tonight, but i chose to wait. i want to do it the ingles way. with a musket." he slipped the machete into his waistwrap. "i have come to make a trade." "what do you mean?" "look around you." atiba turned and gestured. out of the palms emerged a menacing line of black men, all carrying cane machetes. "my men are here. we could kill all of you now, senhor, and simply take your muskets. but you once treated me as a brother, so i will barter with you fairly, as though today were market day in ife. i and my men will seize this branco fortress and make it an offering of friendship to you--rather than watch you be killed trying to take it yourself--in trade for these guns." he smiled grimly. "a life for a life, do you recall?" "the revolt you started is as good as finished, just like i warned you would happen." winston peered through the rain. "you won't be needing any muskets now." "perhaps it is over. but we will not die as slaves. we will die as yoruba. and many branco will die with us." "not with my flintlocks, they won't." winston examined him and noticed a dark stain of blood down his shoulder. atiba drew out his machete again and motioned the other men forward. "then see what happens when we use these instead." he turned the machete in his hand. "it may change your mind." before winston could reply, he turned and whispered a few brisk phrases to the waiting men. they slipped their machetes into their waistwraps and in an instant were against the breastwork, scaling it. as the seamen watched in disbelief, a host of dark figures moved surely, silently up the sloping stone wall of the breastwork. their fingers and toes caught the crevices and joints in the stone with catlike agility as they moved toward the top. "god's blood, cap'n, what in hell's this about?" dick hawkins moved next to winston, still holding a grapple and line. "are these savages . . .?" "i'm damned if i know for sure. but i don't like it." his eyes were riveted on the line of black figures now blended against the stone of the breastwork. they had merged with the rain, all but invisible. in what seemed only moments, atiba had reached the parapet along the top of the breastwork, followed by his men. for an instant winston caught the glint of machetes, reflecting the glow of the lighted linstocks, and then nothing. "by god, no. there'll be no unnecessary killing." he flung his grapple upward, then gestured at the men. "let's go topside, quick!" the light clank of the grapple against the parapet was lost in the strangled cries of surprise from atop the breastwork. then a few muted screams drifted down through the rain. the sounds died away almost as soon as they had begun, leaving only the gentle pounding of rain. "it is yours, senhor." the portuguese words came down as atiba looked back over the side. "but come quickly. one of them escaped us. i fear he will sound a warning. there will surely be more _branco_, soon." "damn your eyes." winston seized the line of his grapple, tested it, and began pulling himself up the face of the stone wall. there was the clank of grapples as the other men followed. the scene atop the breastwork momentarily took his breath away. all the infantrymen on gunnery duty had had their throats cut, their bodies now sprawled haphazardly across the stonework. one gunner was even slumped across the breech of a demi-culverin, still clasping one of the lighted linstocks, its oil-soaked tip smoldering inconclusively in the rain. the yoruba warriors stood among them, wiping blood from their machetes. "good christ!" winston exploded and turned on atiba. "there was no need to kill all these men. you just had to disarm them." "it is better." atiba met his gaze. "they were _branco _warriors. is it not a warrior's duty to be ready to die?" "you bloodthirsty savage." atiba smiled. "so tell me, what are these great ingles guns sitting all around us here meant to do? save lives? or kill men by the hundreds, men whose face you never have to see? my people do not make these. so who is the savage, my ingles friend?" "damn you, there are rules of war." "ah yes. you are civilized." he slipped the machete into his waistwrap. "someday you must explain to me these rules you have for civilized killing. perhaps they are something like the 'rules' your christians have devised to justify making my people slaves." winston looked at him a moment longer, then at the bodies lying around them. there was nothing to be done now. best to get on with disabling the guns. "dick, haul up that sack with the spikes and let's make quick work of this." "aye." hawkins seized the line attached to his waist and walked to the edge of the parapet. at the other end, resting in the mud below, was the brown canvas bag containing the hammers and the spikes. moments later the air rang with the sound of metal against metal, as the seamen began hammering small, nail-like spikes into the touch-holes of each cannon. that was the signal for the barbados militiamen to advance from the landward side of the breastwork, to provide defensive cover. "a life for a life, senhor." atiba moved next to winston. "we served you. now it is time for your part of the trade." "you're not getting any of my flintlocks, if that's what you mean." "don't make us take them." atiba dropped his hand to the handle of his machete. "and don't make my boys show you how they can use them." winston stood unmoving. "there's been killing enough here tonight." "so you are not, after all, a man who keeps his word. you are merely another _branco_." he slowly began to draw the machete from his belt. "i gave you no 'word.' and i wouldn't advise that . . ." winston pushed back the side of his wet jerkin, clearing the pistols in his belt. out of the dark rain a line of barbados planters carrying homemade pikes came clambering up the stone steps. colonel heathcott was in the lead. "good job, captain, by my life." he beamed from under his gray hat. "we heard nary a peep. but you were too damned quick by half. bedford's just getting the next lot of militia together now. he'll need . . ." as he topped the last step, he stumbled over the fallen body of a commonwealth infantryman. a tin helmet clattered across the stonework. "god's blood! what . . ." he peered through the half-light at the other bodies littering the platform, then glared at winston. "you massacred the lads!" "we had some help." heathcott stared past winston, noticed atiba, and stopped stone still. then he glanced around and saw the cluster of africans standing against the parapet, still holding machetes. "good god." he took a step backward and motioned toward his men. "form ranks. there're runaways up here. and they're armed." "careful . . ." before winston could finish, he heard a command in yoruba and saw atiba start forward with his machete. "no, by god!" winston shouted in portuguese. before atiba could move, he was holding a cocked pistol against the yoruba's cheek. "i said there's been enough bloodshed. don't make me kill you to prove it." in the silence that followed there came a series of flashes from the dark down the shore, followed by dull pops. two of the planters at the top of the stone steps groaned, twisted, and slumped against the stonework with bleeding flesh wounds. then a second firing order sounded through the rain. it carried the unmistakable authority of anthony walrond. "on the double, masters. the fireworks are set to begin." winston turned and shouted toward the seamen, still hammering in the spikes. "spurre, get those flintlocks unwrapped and ready. it looks like walrond has a few dry muskets of his own." "aye, cap'n." he signaled the seamen who had finished their assigned tasks to join him, and together they took cover against the low parapet on the landward side of the breastwork. heathcott and the planters, pikes at the ready, nervously moved behind them. winston felt a movement and turned to see atiba twist away. he stepped aside just in time to avoid the lunge of his machete--then brought the barrel of the pistol down hard against the side of his skull. the yoruba groaned and staggered back against the cannon nearest them. as he struggled to regain his balance, he knocked aside the body of the commonwealth infantryman who lay sprawled across its barrel, the smoldering linstock still in his dead grasp. the man slid slowly down the wet side of the culverin, toward the breech. finally he tumbled forward onto the stonework, releasing his grasp on the handle of the lighted linstock. later winston remembered watching in paralyzed horror as the linstock clattered against the breech of the culverin, scattering sparks. the oil-soaked rag that had been its tip seemed to disintegrate as the handle slammed against the iron, and a fragment of burning rag fluttered against the shielded touch hole. a flash shattered the night, as a tongue of flame torched upward. for a moment it illuminated the breastwork like midday. in the stunned silence that followed there were yells of surprise from the far distance, in the direction of the english camp. no one had expected a cannon shot. moments later, several rounds of musket fire erupted from the roadway below. the approaching barbados militiamen had assumed they were being fired on from the breastwork. but now they had revealed their position. almost immediately their fire was returned by the advance party of the windward regiment. suddenly one of the yoruba waiting at the back of the breastwork shouted incomprehensibly, broke from the group, and began clambering over the parapet. there were more yells, and in moments the others were following him. atiba, who had been knocked sprawling by the cannon's explosion, called for them to stay, but they seemed not to hear. in seconds they had vanished over the parapet and into the night. "you betrayed us, senhor." he looked up at winston. "you will pay for it with your life." "not tonight i won't." winston was still holding the pistol, praying it was not too wet to fire. "not tonight. but soon." he shoved the machete unsteadily into his waistwrap. winston noticed that he had difficulty rising, but he managed to pull himself up weakly. then his strength appeared to revive. "our war is not over." amid the gunfire and confusion, he turned and slipped down the landward side of the breastwork. winston watched as he disappeared into the rain. "how many more left to spike, masters?" he yelled back toward the men with the hammers. as he spoke, more musket fire sounded from the plain below. "we've got all but two, cap'n." hawkins shouted back through the rain. "these damned little demi-culverin. our spikes are too big." "then the hell with them. we've done what we came to do." he motioned toward heathcott. "let's call it a night and make a run for it. now." "fine job, i must say." heathcott was smiling broadly as he motioned the cringing planters away from the wall. "we'll hold them yet." while the seamen opened sporadic covering fire with their flintlocks, the militia began scrambling down the wet steps. when the column of walrond's windward regiment now marching up from the seaside realized they were armed, it immediately broke ranks and scattered for cover. in moments winston and heathcott were leading their own men safely up the road toward the camp. they met the remainder of the barbados militia midway, a bedraggled cluster in the downpour. "you can turn back now, sirs." heathcott saluted the lead officer, who was kneeling over a form fallen in the sand. "you gave us good cover when we needed you, but now it's done. the ordnance is spiked. at sunup we'll drive the roundheads back into the sea." "good christ." the officer's voice was trembling as he looked up, rain streaming down his face. "we'd as well just sue for peace and have done with it." "what?" heathcott examined him. "what do you mean?" "he was leading us. dalby bedford. the windwards caught him in the chest when they opened fire." he seemed to choke on his dismay. "the island's no longer got a governor." chapter eighteen above the wide hilltop the mid-morning rain had lightened momentarily to fine mist, a golden awning shading the horizon. a lone figure, hatless and wearing a muddy leather jerkin, moved slowly up the rutted path toward the brick compound reserved for the governor of barbados. behind him lay the green-mantled rolling hills of the island; beyond, shrouded in drizzle and fog, churned the once-placid caribbean. the roadway was strewn with palm fronds blown into haphazard patterns by the night's storm, and as he walked, a new gust of wind sang through the trees, trumpeting a mournful lament. then a stripe of white cut across the new thunderheads in the west, and the sky started to darken once again. more rain would be coming soon, he told himself, yet more storm that would stretch into the night and mantle the island and sea. he studied the sky, wistfully thinking over what had passed. would that the squalls could wash all of it clean, the way a downpour purged the foul straw and offal from a cobblestone london street. but there was no making it right anymore. now the only thing left was to try and start anew. in a place far away. would she understand that? the gate of the compound was secured and locked, as though to shut out the world beyond. he pulled the clapper on the heavy brass bell and in its ring heard a foreboding finality. "sir?" the voice from inside the gate was nervous, fearful. he knew it was james, the irish servant who had been with katherine and the governor for a decade. "miss bedford." "by the saints, captain winston, is that you, sir? the mistress said you'd gone back over to oistins." "i just came from there." "how's the fighting?" the voice revealed itself as belonging to a short, thin-haired man with watery eyes. "we've not heard from his excellency since he sent that messenger down last night. then after that mistress . . ." "just take me to miss bedford." he quickly cut off what he realized could grow into an accounting of the entire household for the past fortnight. how do i go about telling her, he asked himself. that it's the end of everything she had, everything she hoped for. that there's no future left here. "is she expecting you, captain?" james' eyes narrowed as he pushed wide the heavy wooden door leading into the hallway. "i pray nothing's happened to . . ." "she's not expecting me. just tell her i've come." "aye, your worship, as you please." he indicated a chair in the reception room, then turned to head off in the direction of the staircase. katherine was already advancing down the wide mahogany steps. she was dressed in a calico bodice and full skirt, her hair bunched into moist ringlets of its own making. her bloodshot eyes told winston she had not slept. "hugh, what is it? why have you come back?" she searched his face in puzzlement. then her eyes grew wild. "oh god, what's happened?" she stumbled down the rest of the steps. "tell me." "katy, there was some shooting . . ." and he told her, first that dalby bedford was dead, then how it happened. next he explained that, since the island no longer had a seated governor, the assembly had elected to accept in full the terms set forth by the admiral of the fleet. he told it as rapidly as he could, hoping somehow to lessen the pain. she listened calmly, her face betraying no emotion. finally she dropped into a tall, bulky chair, and gazed around for a moment, as though bidding farewell to the room. "maybe it's better this way after all." she looked down. "without the humiliation of the tower and a public trial by cromwell." winston watched her, marveling. there still was no hint of a tear. nothing save her sad eyes bespoke her pain as she continued, "it's ironic, isn't it. both of them. my mother, years ago, and now . . . killed by a gun, when all they ever wanted for the world was peace." she tried to smile. "these are dangerous times to be about in the americas, captain. you're right to always keep those flintlocks in your belt." she turned away, and he knew she was crying. the servants had gathered, james and the two women, huddled by the staircase, unable to speak. "katy, i came as soon as i could to tell you. god only knows what's to happen now, but you can't stay here. they'll figure out in no time you've had a big hand in this. you'll likely be arrested." "i'm not afraid of them, or cromwell himself." she was still gazing at the wooden planks of the floor. "well, you ought to be." he walked over and knelt down next to her chair. "it's over. these planters we were fighting for gave the island away, so i say damned to them. there's more to the americas than barbados." he paused, and finally she turned to gaze at him. there were wet streaks down her cheeks. "maybe now you'll come with me. we'll make a place somewhere else." she looked into his eyes and silently bit her lip. it was almost as though he had never truly seen her till this moment. his heart went out to her as he continued, "i want you with me. there's another island, katy, if you're willing to try and help me take it." "i don't . . ." she seemed unsure what she wanted to say. she looked at him a moment longer, then around at the room, the servants. finally she gazed down again, still silent. "katy, i can't make you come. nor can i promise it'll be easy. but you've got to decide now. there's no time to wait for . . . anything. we've both got to get out of here. i'm going to collect as many of my indentures as possible, then try and run the blockade tonight--rain, storm, no matter. who knows if i'll make it, but it's my only hope." he rose to his feet. his muddy boots had left dark traces on the rug. "it's yours too, if you want it. surely you know that." her voice came like a whisper as she looked up. "we tried, didn't we? truly we did." "you can't give liberty to the americas if these puritans only want it for themselves. it's got to be for everybody. . . . remember what i said? they could have freed the africans, in return for help, and they might have won. if i ever doubted that, god knows i don't anymore, not after what i saw last night. but they wanted slaves, and there's no mobilizing an island that's only half free. so they got what they deserve." he walked to the sideboard. a flask of brandy was there, with glasses; he lifted the bottle and wearily poured himself a shot. then he turned and hoisted the glass. "we gave it our best, but we couldn't do it alone. not here." he drank off the liquor and poured in more. "give me some of that." she motioned toward the bottle. he quickly filled another glass and placed it in her hands. the servants watched, astonished, as she downed it in one gulp, then turned back to winston. "how can i go just yet? there're his papers here, everything. what he did mustn't just be forgotten. he created a democratic nation, an assembly, all of it, here in the americas. someday . . ." "nobody gives a damn about that anymore." he strode over with the flask and refilled her glass. "you've got to get out of here. this is the first place they're apt to look for you. you can stay at joan's place till we're ready to go." "joan?" she stared at him, disbelieving. "you mean joan fuller?" "she's the only person left here i trust." "she despises me. she always has." "no more than you've despised her. so make an end on it." "i . . ." "katy, there's no time to argue now. the damned roundheads are going to be in bridgetown by dark. i've got to go down to the ship, before the rain starts in again, and sort things out. we've got to finish lading and get ready to weigh anchor before it's too late." he watched as she drank silently from the glass, her eyes faraway. finally he continued, "if you want, i'll send joan to help you pack up." he emptied the second glass of brandy, then set it back on the sideboard. when he turned back to her, he was half smiling. "i suppose i've been assuming you're going with me, just because i want you to so badly. well?" she looked again at the servants, then around the room. at last she turned to winston. "hold me." he walked slowly to the chair and lifted her into his arms. he ran his hands through her wet hair, then brought up her lips. at last he spoke. "does that mean yes?" she nodded silently. "then i've got to go. just pack what you think you'll want, but not too many silk skirts and bodices. you won't be needing them where we're going. try and bring some of those riding breeches of yours." she hugged him tighter. "i was just thinking of our 'little island.' when was that?" "yesterday. just yesterday. but there're lots of islands in the caribbean." "yesterday." she drew back and looked at him. "and tomorrow?" "this time tomorrow we'll be at sea, or we'll be at the bottom of the bay out there." he kissed her one last time. "i'll send joan quick as i can. so please hurry." before she could say more, he stalked out into the rain and was gone. the sand along the shore of the bay was firm, beaten solid by the squall. the heavy thunderheads that threatened earlier had now blanked the sun, bringing new rain that swept along the darkened shore in hard strokes. ahead through the gloom he could make out the outlines of his seamen, kegs of water balanced precariously on their shoulders, in an extended line from the thatched-roof warehouse by the careenage at the river mouth down to a longboat bobbing in the surf. after the raid on the oistins breastwork, he had ordered them directly back to bridgetown to finish lading. a streak of white cut across the sky, and in its shimmering light he could just make out the_ defiance_, safely anchored in the shallows, canvas furled, nodding with the swell. joan. she had said nothing when he asked her to go up and help katherine. she'd merely glared her disapproval, while ordering the girls to bring her cloak. joan was saving her thoughts for later, he knew. there'd be more on the subject of katherine. the only sounds now were the pounding of rain along the shore and the occasional distant rumble of thunder. he was so busy watching the men he failed to notice the figure in white emerge from the darkness and move toward his path. when the form reached out for him, he whirled and dropped his hand to a pistol. "senhor, desculpe. " the rain-mantled shadow curtsied, portuguese style. he realized it was a woman. briggs' mulata. the one joan seemed so fond of. before he could reply, she seized his arm. "_faga o favor_, senhor, will you help us? i beg you." there was an icy urgency in her touch. "what are you doing here?" he studied her, still startled. her long black hair was coiled across her face in tangled strands, and there were dark new splotches down the front of her white shift. "i'm afraid he'll die, senhor. and if he's captured . . ." "who?" winston tried unsuccessfully to extract his arm from her grasp. "i know he wanted to take the guns you have, but they were for us to fight for our freedom. he wished you no harm." good god, so she had been part of it too! he almost laughed aloud, thinking how benjamin briggs had been cozened by all his slaves, even his half-african mistress. "you mean that yoruba, atiba? tell him he can go straight to hell. do you have any idea what he had his men do last night?" she looked up, puzzled, her eyes still pleading through the rain. "no, i don't suppose you could." he shrugged. "it scarcely matters now. but his parting words were an offer to kill me, no more than a few hours ago. so i say damned to him." "he is a man. no more than you, but no less. he was bom free; yet now he is a slave. his people are slaves." she paused, and when she did, a distant roll of thunder melted into the rain. "he did what he had to do. for his people, for me." "all he and his 'people' managed was to help the commonwealth bring this island to its knees." "how? because he led the yoruba in a revolt against slavery?" she gripped his arm even tighter. "if he helped defeat the planters, then i am glad. perhaps it will be the end of slavery after all." winston smiled sadly. "it's only the beginning of that accursed trade. he might have stopped it--who knows?--if he'd won. but he lost. so that's the end of it. for him, for barbados." "but you can save him." she tugged winston back as he tried to brush past her. "i know you are leaving. take him with you." "he belongs to briggs." he glanced back. "same as you do. there's nothing i can do about it. right now, i doubt good master briggs is of a mind to do anything but hang him." "then if his life has no value to anyone here, take him as a free man." a web of white laced across the thunderhead. in its light he could just make out the tall masts of the _defiance_, waving against the dark sky like emblems of freedom. god damn you, benjamin briggs. god damn your island of slaveholders. "where is he?" "derin has hidden him, not too far from here. when atiba fainted from the loss of blood, he brought him up there." she turned and pointed toward the dark bulk of the island. "in a grove of trees where the _branco _could not find him. then he came to me for help." "who's this derin?" "one of the yoruba men who was with him." "where're the others? there must've been a dozen or so over at oistins this morning." "some were killed near there. the others were captured. derin told me they were attacked by the militia. atiba only escaped because he fainted and derin carried him to safety. the others stayed to fight, to save him, and they were taken." her voice cracked. "i heard master briggs say the ones who were captured, obewole and the others, would be burned alive tomorrow." "burned alive!" "all the planters have agreed that is what they must do. it is to be made the punishment on barbados for any slave who revolts, so the rest of the africans will always fear the _branco_. " "such a thing would never be allowed on english soil." "this is not your england, senhor. this is barbados. where slavery has become the lifeblood of all wealth. they will do it." "bedford would never allow . . ." he stopped, and felt his heart wrench. "good christ. now there's no one to stop them. damn these bloodthirsty puritans." he turned to her. "can you get him down here? without being seen?" "we will try." "if you can do it, i'll take him." "and derin too?" "in for a penny, in for a pound." his smile was bitter. "pox on it. i'll take them both." "senhor." she dropped to her knees. "tell me how i can thank you." "just be gone. before my boys get wind of this." he pulled her to her feet and glanced toward the rain-swept line of seamen carrying water kegs. "they'll not fancy it, you can be sure. i've got worries enough as is, god knows." "_muito, muito obrigada_, senhor." she stood unmoving, tears streaming down her cheeks. "just go." he stepped around her and moved on down the shore, toward the moored longboat where the men were working. now john mewes was standing alongside, minimally supervising the seamen as they stacked kegs. mingled with his own men were several of the irish indentures. "damn this squall, cap'n. we'll not be able to get under way till she lets up. it's no weather for a christian to be at sea, that i promise you." "i think it's apt to ease up around nightfall." he checked the clouds again. "what're we needing?" "once we get this laded, there'll be water aboard and to spare." he wiped the rain from his eyes and glanced at the sky. "god knows the whole of the island's seen enough water to float to sea.'tis salt pork we're wanting now, and biscuit." "can we get any cassava flour?" "there's scarcely any to be had. the island's half starved, cap'n." "did you check all the warehouses along here?" "aye, we invited ourselves in and rifled what we could find. but there's pitiful little left, save batches of moldy tobacco waitin' to be shipped." "damn. then we'll just have to sail with what we've got." winston turned and stared down the shore. there had not been any provisions off-loaded from europe since the fleet arrived. there were no ships in the harbor now, save the _defiance _and the _zeelander_. the _zeelander_. "when's the last time you saw ruyters?" "this very mornin', as't happens. he came nosing by to enquire how it was we're afloat, and i told him it must've been the tide lifted her off." mewes turned and peered through the rain toward the dutch frigate. "what're you thinking?" "i'm thinking he still owes me a man, a spaniard by the name of vargas, which i've yet to collect." "that damned butterbox'll be in no mood to accommodate you, i swear it." "all the same, we made a bargain. i want you and some of the boys to go over and settle it." he thumbed at the _zeelander_, lodged in the sand not two hundred yards down the beach. "in the meantime, i have to go back up to joan's and collect . . . a few things. why don't you try and find ruyters? get that spaniard, however you have to do it, and maybe see if he'll part with any of their biscuit." "aye, i'll tend to it." he turned to go. "and john . . ." winston waved him back. "aye." "we may be having some company before we weigh anchor. remember that yoruba we caught on board a few nights back?" "aye, i recollect the heathen well enough. i've not seen him since, thank god, though some of the lads claim there was one up at oistins this mornin' who sounded a lot like him." "same man. i've a mind to take him with us, and maybe another one. but don't say anything to the boys. just let him on board if he shows up." "you're the captain. but i'd sooner have a viper between decks as that godless savage. they're sayin' he and a bunch of his kind gutted a good dozen englishmen this mornin' like they was no better'n so many spaniards." "well, that's done and past. just see he gets on board and the boys keep quiet about it." "they'll not be likin' it, by my life." "that's an order." "aye." mewes turned with a shrug, whistled for some of the seamen, then headed through the rain, down the shore toward the beached hulk of the _zeelander. _ "she's here darlin'." joan met him at the door. "in back, with the girls." "how is she?" winston threw off his wet cape and reached for the tankard of sack she was handing him. "i think she's starting to understand he's dead now. i guess it just took a while. now i think it's time you told me a few things yourself. why're you taking her? is't because you're worried the roundheads might send her back home to be hanged?" "is that the reason you want to hear?" "damn your eyes, hugh winston. you're not in love with her, are you?" he smiled and took a sip from the tankard. "you'd best beware of her, love." she sighed. "that one's not for you. she's too independent, and i doubt she even knows what she's doin' half the time." "and how about me? think i know what i'm doing?" he pulled back a chair and straddled it. "doubtless not, given what you're plannin' next." she plopped into a chair. "but i've packed your things, you whoremaster. the girls're already sorry to see the lot of you leavin'. i think they've taken a fancy to a couple of your lads." she laughed. "but they'd have preferred you most of all. god knows, i've had to keep an eye on the jades day and night." he turned and stared out in the direction of the rain. "maybe you'll decide to come over someday and open shop on jamaica. this place has bad times coming." she leaned back and poured a tankard of sack for herself. "that's a fool's dream. but you're right about one thing. there're dark days in store here, not a doubt. who knows how it'll settle out?" the wind seemed to play against the doors of the tavern. then they swung open and a sudden gust coursed through the room, spraying fine mist across the tables. "winston, damn me if i didn't figure i'd find you here." benjamin briggs pushed into the room, shook the rain from his wide hat, and reached for a chair. "i'm told you were the last to see that yoruba of mine. that he tried to kill you this moming, much as he aimed to murder me." "he was at oistins, true enough." winston glanced up. "that's what i heard. they're claiming he and those savages of his brutally murdered some of cromwell's infantry." he shook his hat one last time and tossed it onto the table. "we've got to locate him. maybe you have some idea where he is now?" "he didn't trouble advising me of his intended whereabouts." "well, he's a true savage, by my soul. a peril to every christian on this island." he sighed and looked at winston. "i don't know whether you've heard, but the roundheads have already started disarming our militia. we'll soon have no way to defend ourselves. i think i winged him last night, but that heathen is apt to come and kill us both if we don't hunt him down and finish the job while we've still got the chance." he lowered his voice. "i heard about those flintlocks of yours. i was hoping maybe you'd take some of your boys and we could go after him whilst things are still in a tangle over at oistins." winston sat unmoving. "remember what i told you the other day, about freeing these africans? well, now i say damned to you. you can manage your slaves any way you like, but it'll be without my flintlocks." "that's scarcely an attitude that'll profit the either of us at the moment." briggs signaled to joan for a tankard of kill-devil. "peculiar company you keep these days, mistress fuller. 'twould seem the captain here cares not tuppence for his own life. well, so be it. i'll locate that savage without him if i needs must." he took a deep breath and gazed around the empty room. "but lest my ride down here be for naught, i'd as soon take the time right now and settle that bargain we made." joan poured the tankard and shoved it across the table to him. "you mean that woman you own?" "aye, the mulatto wench. i'm thinking i might go ahead and take your offer of a hundred pounds, and damned to her." "what i said was eighty." joan stared at him coldly. "aye, eighty, a hundred, who can recall a shilling here or there." he took a swig. "what say we make it ninety then, and have an end to the business?" joan eyed him. "i said eighty, though i might consider eighty-five. but not a farthing more." "you're a hard woman to trade with, on my honor." he took another draught from the tankard. "then eighty-five it is, but only on condition we settle it here and now. in sterling. i'll not waste another day's feed on her." winston glanced at joan, then back at briggs. "do you know where she is?" the planter's eyes narrowed. "up at my compound. where else in god's name would she be?" winston took a drink and looked out the doorway, into the rain. "i heard talk she was seen down around here this morning. maybe she's run off." he turned to joan. "i'd encourage you to pay on delivery." "damn you, sir, our bargain's been struck." briggs settled his tankard with a ring. "i never proposed delivering her with a coach and four horses." joan sat silently, listening. finally she spoke. "you'd best not be thinkin' to try and swindle me. i'll advance you five pounds now, on account, but you'll not see a penny of the rest till she's in my care." "as you will then." he turned and spat toward the corner. "she'll be here, word of honor." joan glanced again at winston, then rose and disappeared through the shuttered doors leading into the back room. after briggs watched her depart, he turned toward winston. "you, sir, have studied to plague me from the day you dropped anchor." "i usually cut the deck before i play a hand of cards." "well, sir, i'll warrant cromwell's got the deck now, for this hand at least. we'll see what you do about him." "cromwell can be damned. i'll manage my own affairs." "as will we all, make no mistake." he took another drink. "aye, we'll come out of this. we'll be selling sugar to the dutchmen again in a year's time, i swear it. they can't keep that fleet tied up here forever." he looked at winston. "and when it's gone, you'd best be on your way too, sir. mark it." "i'll make note." joan moved back through the room. "five pounds." she handed briggs a small cloth bag. "count it if you like. that makes her mine. you'll see the balance when she's safe in this room." "you've got a trade." he took the bag and inventoried its contents with his thick fingers. "i'll let this tankard serve as a handshake." he drained the last of the liquor as he rose. as he clapped his soaking hat back onto his head, he moved next to where winston sat. "and you, sir, would be advised to rethink helping me whilst there's time. that savage is apt to slit your throat for you soon enough if he's not tracked down." "and then burned alive, like you're planning for the rest of them?" briggs stopped and glared. "that's none of your affair, sir. we're going to start doing what we must. how else are we to keep these africans docile in future? something's got to be done about these revolts." he whirled abruptly and headed for the door. at that moment, the battered louvres swung inward and a harried figure appeared in the doorway, eyes frantic, disoriented. a few seconds passed before anyone recognized jeremy walrond. his silk doublet was wet and bedraggled, his cavalier's hat waterlogged and drooping over his face. before he could move, briggs' pistol was out and leveled at his breast. "not another step, you whoreson bastard, or i'll blow you to hell." his voice boomed above the sound of the storm. "damn me if i shouldn't kill you on sight, except i wouldn't squander the powder and shot." he squinted through the open doorway. "where's anthony? i'd have him come forward and meet me like a man, the royalist miscreant." jeremy's face flooded with fear. "he's . . .he's been taken on board the _rainbowe_. i swear it." his voice seemed to crack. "by powlett." "by who?" "a man named powlett, the vice admiral. i think he's to be the new governor." "well, damned to them both." briggs lowered the pistol guardedly, then shoved it back into his belt. "they're doubtless conspiring this very minute how best to squeeze every farthing of profit from our sugar trade." "i . . . i don't know what's happening. they've made the windwards as much as prisoners. powlett's already disarmed the regiment, and colonel morris is leading his infantry on the march to bridgetown right now." he stepped gingerly in through the doorway. "i came down to try and find miss bedford. at the compound they said she might be . . ." "i doubt katherine has much time for you." winston looked up from his chair. "so you'd best get on back to oistins before i decide to start this little war all over again." "oh, for god's sake let the lad be. he's not even wearin' a sword," joan interjected, then beckoned him forward. "don't let this blusterin' lot frighten you, darlin'. come on in and dry yourself off." "i've got to warn katherine." he edged nervously toward joan, as though for protection. his voice was still quavering. "we didn't expect this. they'd agreed to terms. they said . . ." "they lied." winston drew out one of his pistols and laid it on the table before him. "and your gullible, ambitious royalist of a brother believed them. haply, some others of us took our own precautions. katherine's safe, so you can go on back to your roundheads and tell them they'll never find her." "but i meant her no harm. it was to be for the best, i swear it. i want her to know that." he settled at a table and lowered his face into his hands. "i never dreamed it would come to this." he looked up. "who could have?" "'tis no matter now." joan moved to him, her voice kindly. "you're not to blame. 'twas sir anthony that led the defection. it's always the old fools who cause the trouble. he's the one who should have known . . ." "but you don't understand what really happened. i was the one who urged him to it, talked him into it. because admiral calvert assured me none of this would happen." "you planned this with calvert!" briggs roared. "with that damned roundhead! you let him use you to cozen walrond and the windwards into defecting?" jeremy stifled a sob, then turned toward joan, his blue eyes pleading. "would you tell katherine i just wanted to stop the killing. none of us ever dreamed . . ." "jeremy." katherine was standing in the open doorway leading to the back. "is it really true, what you just said?" he stared at her in disbelief, and his voice failed for a second. then suddenly the words poured out. "katherine, you've got to get away." he started to rush to her, but something in her eyes stopped him. "please listen. i think powlett means to arrest you. i heard him talking about it. there's nothing we can do." "you and anthony've got the windwards." she examined him with hard scorn. "i fancy you can do whatever you choose. doubtless he'll have himself appointed governor now, just as he's probably been wanting all along." "no! he never . . ." jeremy's voice seemed to crack. finally he continued, "a man named powlett, the vice admiral, is going to be the new governor. morris is marching here from oistins right now. i only slipped away to warn you." "i've been warned." she was turning back toward the doorway. "goodbye, jeremy. you always wanted to be somebody important here. well, maybe you've managed it now. you've made your mark on our times. you gave the americas back to england. congratulations. maybe cromwell will declare himself king next and then grant you a knighthood." "katherine, i don't want it." he continued miserably. "i'm so ashamed. i only came to ask you to forgive me. and to warn you that you've got to get away." "i've heard that part already." she glanced back. "now just leave." "but what'll you do?" again he started to move toward her, then drew back. "it's none of your affair." she glared at him. "the better question is what you and anthony'll do now? after you've betrayed us all. i thought you had more honor. i thought anthony had more honor." he stood for a moment, as though not comprehending what she had said. then he moved forward and confronted her. "how can you talk of honor, in the same breath with anthony! after what you did. made a fool of him." "jeremy, you have known me long enough to know i do what i please. it was time anthony learned that too." "well, he should have broken off the engagement weeks ago, that much i'll tell you. and he would have, save he thought you'd come to your senses. and start behaving honorably." he glanced at winston. "i see he was wrong." "i did come to my senses, jeremy. just in time. i'll take hugh's honor over anthony's any day." she turned and disappeared through the doorway. jeremy stared after her, then faced winston. "damn you. you think i don't know anything. you're the . . ." "i think you'd best be gone." winston rose slowly from his chair. "give my regards to sir anthony. tell him i expect to see him in hell. he pulled a musket ball from his pocket and tossed it to jeremy. "and give him that, as thanks from me for turning this island and my ship over to the roundheads. the next one he gets won't be handed to him. . . ." the doors of the tavern bulged open, and standing in the rain was an officer of the commonwealth army. behind him were three helmeted infantrymen holding flintlock muskets. "your servant, gentlemen." the man glanced around the room and noticed joan. "and ladies. you've doubtless heard your militia has agreed to lay down its arms, and that includes even those who'd cravenly hide in a brothel rather than serve. for your own safety we're here to collect all weapons, till order can be restored. they'll be marked and returned to you in due time." he motioned the three infantrymen behind him to close ranks at the door. "we'll commence by taking down your names." in the silence that followed nothing could be heard but the howl of wind and rain against the shutters. dark had begun to settle outside now, and the room itself was lighted only by a single flickering candle, in a holder on the back wall. the officer walked to where joan was seated and doffed his hat. "my name is colonel morris, madam. and you, i presume, are the . . ." "you betrayed us!" jeremy was almost shouting. "you said we could keep our muskets. that we could . . ." "master walrond, is that you?" morris turned and peered through the gloom. "good christ, lad. what are you doing here? you're not supposed to leave oistins." he paused and inspected jeremy. "i see you've not got a weapon, so i'll i forget i came across you. but you've got to get on back over to oistins and stay with the windwards, or i'll not be responsible." he turned to briggs. "and who might you be, sir?" "my name, sir, is benjamin briggs. i am head of the council of barbados, and i promise you i will protest formally to parliament over this incident. you've no right to barge in here and . . ." "just pass me that pistol and there'll be no trouble. it's hotheads like you that make this necessary." morris reached into briggs' belt and deftly extracted the long flintlock, its gilded stock glistening in the candlelight. he shook the powder out of the priming pan and handed it to one of the infantrymen. "the name with this one is to be . . ." he glanced back. "briggs, sir, i believe you said?" "damn you. this treatment will not be countenanced. i need that pistol." briggs started to move forward, then glanced warily at the infantrymen holding flintlock muskets. "we all regret it's necessary, just as much as you." morris signaled to the three infantrymen standing behind him, their helmets reflecting the dull orange of the candles. "while i finish here, search the back room. and take care. there's apt to be a musket hiding behind a calico petticoat in a place like this." winston settled back onto his chair. "i wouldn't trouble with that if i were you. there're no other guns here. except for mine." morris glanced at him, startled. then he saw winston's flintlock lying on the table. "you're not giving the orders here, whoever you are. and i'll kindly take that pistol." "i'd prefer to keep it. so it'd be well if you'd just leave now, before there's trouble." "that insubordinate remark, sir, has just gotten you put under arrest." morris moved toward the table. winston was on his feet. the chair he had been sitting on tumbled across the floor. "i said you'd best be gone." before morris could respond, a woman appeared at the rear doorway. "i'll save you all a search. i'm not afraid of cromwell, and i'm surely not frightened of you." "katherine, no!" jeremy's voice was pleading. "and who might you be, madam?" morris stared in surprise. "my name is katherine bedford, sir. which means, i suppose, that you'll want to arrest me too." "are you the daughter of dalby bedford?" "he was my father. and the last lawfully selected governor this island is likely to know." "then i regret to say i do have orders to detain you. there are certain charges, madam, of aiding him in the instigation of this rebellion, that may need to be answered in london." "katherine!" jeremy looked despairingly at her. "i warned you . . ." "is that why you're here, master walrond? to forewarn an accused criminal?" morris turned to him. "then i fear there may be charges against you too." he glanced at briggs. "you can go, sir. but i'm afraid we'll have to hold your pistol for now, and take these others into custody." "you're not taking miss bedford, or anybody, into custody." winston pulled back his water-soaked jerkin to expose the pistol in his belt. morris stared at him. "and who, sir, are you?" "check your list of criminals for the name winston." he stood unmoving. "i'm likely there too." "is that hugh winston, sir?" morris' eyes narrowed, and he glanced nervously at the three men behind him holding muskets. then he looked back. "we most certainly have orders for your arrest. you've been identified as the gunnery commander for the rebels here, to say nothing of charges lodged against you in england. my first priority is miss bedford, but i'll be pleased to do double duty and arrest you as well." "fine. now, see that pistol?" winston thumbed toward the table. "look it over carefully. there're two barrels, both primed. it's part of a pair. the other one is in my belt. that's four pistol balls. the man who moves to arrest miss bedford gets the first. but if you make me start shooting, i'm apt to forget myself and not stop till i've killed you all. so why don't you leave now, colonel morris, and forget everything you saw here." he glanced back at katherine. "i'm sure miss bedford is willing to forget she saw you. she's had a trying day." "damn your impudence, sir." morris turned and gestured at the men behind him. "go ahead and arrest her." one of the helmeted infantrymen raised his flintlock and waved katherine forward. "no!" jeremy shouted and lunged toward the soldier. "you can't! i never meant . . ." the shot sounded like a crack of thunder in the close room. black smoke poured from the barrel of the musket, and jeremy froze where he stood, a quizzical expression on his face. he turned to look back at katherine, his eyes penitent, then wilted toward the floor, a patch of red spreading across his chest. almost simultaneous with the musket's discharge, the pistol in winston's belt was already drawn and cocked. it spoke once, and the infantryman who had fired dropped, a trickle of red down his forehead. as the soldier behind him started to raise his own musket, the pistol gave a small click, rotating the barrel, and flared again. the second man staggered back against the wall, while his flintlock clattered unused to the floor. now the rickety table in front of winston was sailing toward the door, and the pistol that had been lying on it was in his hand. the table caught the third infantryman in the groin as he attempted to raise his weapon and sent him sprawling backward. his musket rattled against the shutters, then dropped. morris looked back to see the muzzle of winston's second flintlock leveled at his temple. "katy, let's go." winston motioned her forward. "we'll probably have more company any minute now." "you're no better than a murderer, sir." morris finally recovered his voice. "i didn't fire the first shot. but by god i'll be the one who fires the last, that i promise you." he glanced back. "katy, i said let's go. take whatever you want, but hurry." "hugh, they've killed jeremy!" she stood unmoving, shock in her face. "he wouldn't let me handle this my way." winston kept his eyes on morris. "but it's too late now." "he tried to stop them. he did it for me." she was shaking. "oh, jeremy, why in god's name?" "katy, come on." winston looked back. "joan, get her things. we've got to move out of here, now." joan turned and pushed her way through the cluster of irish girls standing fearfully in the rear doorway. "you'll hang for this, sir." morris eyed the pistol. the remaining infantryman still sat against the wall, his unfired musket on the floor beside him. "the way you'd planned to hang miss bedford, no doubt." he motioned toward briggs. "care to collect those muskets for me?" "i'll have no hand in this, sir." the planter did not move. "you've earned a noose for sure." "i'll do it." katherine stepped across jeremy's body and assembled the three muskets of the infantrymen. she carried them back, then confronted morris. "you, sir, have helped steal the freedom of this island, of the americas. it's impossible to tell you how much i despise you and all you stand for. i'd kill you myself if god had given me the courage. maybe hugh will do it for me." "i'll see the both of you hanged, madam, or i'm not a christian." "i hope you try." joan emerged through the crowd, toting a large bundle. she laid it on a table by the door, then turned to winston. "here's what we got up at the compound this afternoon." she surveyed the three bodies sadly. "master jeremy was a fine lad. maybe he's finally managed to make his brother proud of him; i'll wager it's all he ever really wanted." she straightened. "good christ, i hope they don't try and shut me down because of this." "it wasn't your doing." winston lifted the bundle with his free hand. "katy, can you manage those muskets?" "i'd carry them through hell." "then let's be gone." he waved the pistol at the infantryman sitting against the wall. "get up. you and the colonel here are going to keep us company." "where do you think you can go?" briggs still had not moved. "they'll comb the island for you." "they'll look a long time before they find us on barbados." he shoved the pistol against morris' ribs. "let's be off. colonel." "there'll be my men all about." morris glared. "you'll not get far." "we'll get far enough." he shifted the bundle under his arm. "darlin', godspeed. i swear i'll miss you." joan kissed him on the cheek, then turned to katherine. "and mind you watch over him in that place he's headed for." "jamaica?" "no. he knows where i mean." she looked again at winston. "there's no worse spot in the caribbean." "don't worry. you'll hear from me." winston kissed her back, then urged morris forward. "see that you stay alive." she followed them to the door. "and don't try anything too foolish." "i always take care." he turned and bussed her on the cheek one last time. then they were gone. chapter nineteen as winston and katherine led their prisoners slowly down the shore, the _defiance_ stood out against the dark sky, illuminated by flashes of lightning as it tugged at its anchor cables. the sea was up now, and winston watched as her prow dipped into the trough of each swell, as though offering a curtsy. they had almost reached the water when he spotted john mewes, waiting by the longboat. "ahoy, cap'n," he sang out through the gusts of rain. "what're you doin'? impressing roundheads to sail with us now? we've already got near to fifty of your damn'd indentures." "are they on board?" "aye, them and all the rest. you're the last." he studied katherine and morris in confusion. "though i'd not expected you'd be in such fine company." "then we weigh anchor." "in this squall?" mewes' voice was incredulous. "we can't put on any canvas now. it'd be ripped off the yards." "we've got to. the roundheads are already moving on bridgetown. we'll try and use those new short sails." winston urged morris forward with his pistol, then turned back to mewes. "any sign of that african we talked about?" "i've seen naught of him, and that's a fact." he peered up the beach, hoping one last cursory check would suffice. now that the rain had intensified, it was no longer possible to see the hills beyond. "but i did manage to get that spaniard from ruyters, the one named vargas." he laughed. "though i finally had to convince the ol' king of the butterboxes to see things our way by bringin' over a few of the boys and some muskets." "good. he's on board now?" "safe as can be. an' happy enough to leave that damn'd dutchman, truth to tell. claimed he was sick to death of the putrid smell of the zeelander, now that she's been turned into a slaver." "then to hell with the african. we can't wait any longer." "'tis all to the good, if you want my thinkin'." mewes reached up and adjusted morris' helmet, then performed a mock salute. he watched in glee as the english commander's face flushed with rage. "you're not takin' these two damn'd roundheads aboard, are you?" "damn you, sir." morris ignored mewes as he glared at winston, then looked down at the pistol. he had seen a double-barrelled mechanism like this only once before--property of a spanish diplomat in london, a dandy far more skilled dancing the bourree than managing a weapon. but such a device in the hands of an obvious marksman like winston; nothing could be more deadly. "there's been quite enough . . ." "get in the longboat." "i'll do no such thing." morris drew back. "i have no intention of going with you, wherever it is you think you're headed." "i said get in. if you like it here so much, you can swim back after we weigh anchor." winston tossed his bundle across the gunwale, seized morris by his doublet, and sent him sprawling after it. then he turned to the infantryman. "you get in as well." without a word the man clambered over the side. winston heaved a deep breath, then took the muskets katherine was carrying and handed them to mewes. "katy, this is the last you're apt to see of barbados for a long while." "please, let's don't talk about it." she seized her wet skirts and began to climb over the side, winston steadying her with one hand. "i suppose i somehow thought i could have everything. but i guess i've learned differently." he studied her in confusion for a moment, then turned and surveyed the dark shore one last time. "all right, john, prepare to cast off." "aye." mewes loosened the bow line from its mooring and tossed it into the longboat. together they shoved the bobbing craft and its passengers deeper into the surf. "what's your name?" winston motioned the infantryman forward as he lifted himself over the gunwales. "macewen, yor worship." he took off his helmet and tossed it onto the boards. his hair was sandy, his face scottish. "then take an oar, macewen. and heave to." "aye, sor." the scotsman ignored morris' withering glare and quickly took his place. "you can row too, colonel." winston waved the pistol. "barbados is still a democracy, for at least a few more hours." morris said nothing, merely grimaced and reached for an oar. katherine laid her cheek against winston's shoulder and looked wistfully back toward the shore. "everything we made, the commonwealth's going to take away now. everything my father and i, and all the others, worked so hard for together." he held her against him as they moved out through the surf and across the narrow band of water to the ship. in what seemed only moments the longboat edged beneath the quartergallery and the _defiance_ was hovering above them. "john, have the boys drop that short sail and weigh anchor as soon as we're aboard. this westerly off the coast should get us underway and past the blockade. we'll just keep her close hauled till we've doubled the point, then run up some more canvas." "it'll be a miracle if we manage to take her by the point in this sea, and in the dark besides." mewes was poised in the bow of the longboat. "when we get aboard, i'll take the helm. you just get the canvas on her." "aye." he reached up and seized a notch beneath a gunport, pulling the longboat under the deadeyes that supported the mainmast shrouds. as he began mounting the rope ladder he tossed the line up through the rain. winston had taken katherine's arm to help her up when he heard a buzz past his ear. then, through the rain, came a faint pop, the report of a musket. "god's blood!" he turned back to look. dimly through the rain he could make out a line of helmeted infantrymen along the shore, muskets in hand. they were disorganized, without a commander, but standing alongside them and yelling orders was a heavy man in a wide black hat. benjamin briggs. "he betrayed us! he brought them right down to the bay. i wonder what he's figuring to get in return? doubtless a place in the new government. we've got to . . ." before he could finish, katherine had caught his arm and was pointing over in the direction of the river mouth. "hugh, wait. do you see that? there's someone out there. in the surf. i thought i noticed it before." "more damned infantry?" he turned to stare. "they'd not try swimming after us. they'd wait for longboats." "i can't tell. it's over there, on the left. i think someone's trying to wade out." he squinted through the rain. a figure clad in white was waist deep in the surf, holding what seemed to be a large bundle. "that's no roundhead. i'll wager it's likely briggs' mulata. though she's just a little too late. i've a mind to leave her." he paused to watch as a wave washed over the figure and sent it staggering backward. then another bullet sang past and he heard the shouts of benjamin briggs. "maybe i owe a certain planter one last service." "cap'n, we've got to get this tub to sea." mewes was crouching behind the bulwarks of the _defiance_. "those damn'd roundheads along the shore don't have many muskets yet, but they're apt to be gettin' reinforcements any time now. so if it's all the same, i don't think i'd encourage waitin' around all night." "john, how are the anchors?" "i've already weighed the heavy one up by the bow." he called down. "say the word and we can just slip the cable on that little one at the stern." "maybe we've got time." he pushed the longboat back away from the side of the _defiance_. as he reached for an oar, morris threw down his helmet and dove into the swell. in moments the commander was swimming toward shore. "aye, he's gone, yor worship. he's a quick one, to be sure." the scottish infantryman gave only a passing glance as he threw his weight against the oar. "you'll na be catching him, on my faith." "and what about you?" "with yor worship's leave, i'd as soon be stay in' on with you." he gave another powerful stroke with the oar. "where'er you're bound, 'tis all one to me." "what were you before? a seaman?" "a landsman, yor worship, i'll own it. i was took in the battle of dunbar and impressed into the roundhead army, made to come out here to the caribbees. but i've had a bellyful of these roundheads and their stinking troop ships, i swear it. i kept my pigs better at home. i'd serve you like you was the king himself if you'd give me leave." "macewen, wasn't it?" "aye, yor worship. at your service." "then heave to." winston pulled at the other oar. through the dark they could just make out the bobbing form, now neck deep in the surf. she was supporting the black arms of yet another body. "senhora!" winston called through the rain. the white-clad figure turned and stared blankly toward them. she seemed overcome with exhaustion, unsure even where she was. "_espere um momento_. we'll come to you." he was shouting now in portuguese. a musket ball sang off the side of the longboat as several infantrymen began advancing down the shore in their direction. the scotsman hunkered beside the gunwales but did not miss a stroke of his oar as they neared the bobbing heads in the water. "here, senhora." winston reached down and grasped the arms of the body serina was holding. it was atiba. while katherine caught hold of her shoulders and pulled her over the gunwale, macewen helped winston hoist the yoruba, unconscious, onto the planking. he was still bleeding, his breath faint. "he is almost dead, senhor. and they have killed derin." serina was half choked from the surf. "at first i was afraid to try bringing him. but then i thought of what would happen if they took him, and i knew i had . . ." she began mumbling incoherently as she bent over the slumped form of atiba, her mouth against his, as though to urge breath back into him. "katy, the minute we're on board take them straight down to the cabin and see if you can get a little brandy into him. maybe it'll do some good." "i'll try, but i fear it's too late already. let's just get underway." she turned to look at the deck of the _defiance_, where a line of seamen had appeared with muskets. the firing from the shore slowed now, as the infantry melted back into the rain to avoid the barrage from the ship. by the time their longboat was hoisted up over the side and lashed midships, morris had retreated to safety with his men. while mewes ordered the remaining anchor cable slipped and the mainsail dropped, katherine ushered serina through the companionway to the great cabin, followed by seamen carrying atiba. then the mast groaned against the wind, a seaman on the quarterdeck unlashed the helm, and in moments they had begun to pull away. "that was easy." mewes spat in the general direction of the scuppers, then hoisted up his belt as he watched the rainswept shore begin to recede. "could be morris is just saving us for the frigates." winston was studying the bobbing mast lights off their portside bow. "he probably figures they heard the gunfire and will realize something's afoot." "they've got their share of ordnance, that much i'll warrant. there's at least one two-decker still on station out there, the _gloucester_. i sailed on her once, back when i first got impressed by the damn'd navy, twenty-odd years back. she's seen her years at sea, but she's got plenty of cannon between decks for all that." "i think you'd better have the portside guns primed and ready to run out, just in case. but i figure once we get past the point, we'll be clear. after that we can steer north and ride this coastal westerly right up to speightstown, maybe heave-to there till the storm eases." he turned and headed down the deck. "i'm going aft to take the whipstaff. get the yardmen aloft and damn the weather. i want the maintop and all braces manned." "aye, you never know." mewes yelled the gunnery orders through the open hatch, then marched down the deck giving assignments. katherine was standing at the head of the companionway leading to the great cabin as winston passed on his way to the quarterdeck. "i've put the african in your cabin, along with the mulatto woman." she caught his arm as he headed up the steps. "she's delirious. and i think he's all but dead. he's got a bad musket wound in his shoulder." "even if he dies now, it'll be better than what briggs and the planters had planned." he looked at her face and pushed aside a sudden desire to take her into his arms, just to know she was his at last. "but see if you can clean his wound with brandy. i'd hate to lose him now after all the trouble we went to bringing him aboard." "why did you do it, hugh? after all, he tried to kill you once, on this very deck. i was here, remember." "who understands why we do anything? maybe i like his brass. maybe i don't even know the reason anymore." he turned and headed up the steps. serina lifted his cheek against her own, the salt from her tears mingling with the sea water in his hair. the wound in his shoulder was open now, sending a trickle of blood glistening across his chest. his breathing was in spasms. shango, can you still hear me . . .? "try washing his wound with this." katherine was standing above her, in the dim light of the candle-lantern, holding a gray onion-flask of brandy. "why are you helping me, senhora?" serina looked up, her words a blend of english and portuguese. "you care nothing for him. or for me." "i . . . i want to." katherine awkwardly pulled the cork from the bottle, and the fiery fumes of the brandy enveloped them. "because the senhor told you to do it. that is the real reason." she finally reached and took the bottle. "he is a good man. he risked his life for us. he did not need to. no other _branco_ on this island would have." "then you can repay him by doing what he asked. he said to clean the wound." serina settled the bottle onto the decking beside the sleeping bunk, then bent over and kissed the clan marks on atiba's dark cheek. as she did, the ship rolled awkwardly and a high wave dashed against the quartergallery. quickly she seized the neck of the flask and secured it till they had righted. "i think we will have to do it together." "together?" "never fear, senhora. atiba's black skin will not smudge your white ingles hands." "i never thought it would." katherine impulsively reached down and ripped off a portion of her skirt. then she grabbed the flask and pulled back his arm. while serina held his shoulder forward, she doused the wound with a stream of the brown liquor, then began to swab away the encrusted blood with the cloth. his skin felt like soft leather, supple to the touch, with hard ripples of muscles beneath. the sting of the brandy brought an involuntary jerk. atiba's eyes opened and he peered, startled, through the gloom. "don't try to move." quickly serina bent over him, whispering softly into his ear. "you are safe. you are on the _branco's_ ship." he started to speak, but at that moment another wave crashed against the stern and the ship lurched sideways. atiba's eyes flooded with alarm, and his lips formed a word. "dara . . ." serina laid her face next to his. "don't talk. please. just rest now." she tried to give him a drink of the brandy, but his eyes refused it. then more words came, faint and lost in the roar of the wind and the groaning of the ancient boards of the _defiance_. finally his breath seemed to dissolve as unconsciousness again drifted over him. katherine watched as serina gently laid his head against the cushion on the bunk, then fell to her knees and began to pray, mumbling foreign words . . . not portuguese. she found herself growing more and more uneasy; something about the two of them was troubling, almost unnatural. finally she rose and moved to watch the sea through the stern windows. though the waves outside slammed ever more menacingly against the quartergallery, as the storm was worsening noticeably, she still longed for the wind in her face. again she recalled her first night here with hugh, when they had looked out through this very window together, in each other's arms. what would it be like to watch the sea from this gallery now, she wondered, when the ocean and winds were wild? she sighed and pulled open the latch. what she saw took her breath away. off the portside, bearing down on them, was the outline of a tallmasted english warship with two gun decks. before she could move, there were shouts from the quarterdeck above, then the trampling of feet down the companionway leading to the waist of the ship. he'd seen it too, and ordered his gun crews to station. she pulled back from the window as a wave splashed across her face, and a chill swept the room, numbing her fingers. she fumbled a moment trying to secure the latch, then gave up and turned to head for the door. if we're all to die, she told herself, i want to be up with hugh, on the quarterdeck. oh god, why now? after all we've been through? as she passed the lantern, she noticed serina, still bent over the african, still mumbling the strange words. . . . "do you know what's about to happen to us all!" the frustration was more than she could contain. "come back over here and take a look." when the mulatto merely stared at her with a distant, glazed expression, she strode to where she knelt and took her arm, pulling her erect. while she was leading her toward the open window, she heard a deep groaning rise up through the timbers of the frigate and knew the cannon were being run out. winston had ordered a desperate gamble; a possible ordnance duel with a warship twice the burden of the _defiance_. moving the guns now, when the seas were high, only compounded their danger. if one broke loose from its tackles, it could hurtle through the side of the ship, opening a gash that would surely take enough water to sink them in minutes. "do you see, senhora?" she directed serina's gaze out the open windows. "if you want to pray, then pray that that man-of-war doesn't catch us. your african may soon be dead anyway, along with you and me too." "what . . . will they do?" the mulatto studied the approaching warship, her eyes only half seeing. "i expect they'll pull alongside us if they can, then run out their guns and . . ." she felt her voice begin to quiver. "then i will pray." "please do that." she whirled in exasperation and quickly shoved her way out the door and into the companionway. as she mounted the slippery ladder to the quarterdeck, she felt john mewes brush past in the rain, bellowing orders aloft. she looked up to see men perched along the yards, clinging to thin ropes in the blowing rain as they loosened the topgallants. the_ defiance _was putting on every inch of canvas, in weather where any knowing seaman would strike sail and heave-to. "good god, katy, i wish you'd go back below decks. the gloucester must have spied our sail when we doubled the point." winston's voice sounded through the rain. he was steering the ship all alone now, his shoulder against the whipstaff. off the portside the english warship, a gray hulk with towering masts, was rapidly narrowing the distance between them. "hugh, i want to be up here, with you." she grabbed onto a shroud to keep her balance. "they're planning to try and sink us, aren't they?" "unless we heave-to. which i have no intention of doing. so they'll have to do just that if they expect to stop us. and i'd say they have every intention of making the effort. look." he pointed through the rain. now the line of gunport covers along the upper gun deck were being raised. "they're making ready to start running out their eighteen-pounders." "what can we do?" "first put on all the canvas we've got. then get our own guns in order. if we can't outrun them, we'll have to fight." "do you think we have a chance?" she studied the ship more closely. it seemed to have twice the sail of the _defiance_, but then it was heavier and bulkier. except for the _rainbowe_, cromwell had not sent his best warships to the americas. this one could be as old as hugh's. "i've outrun a few men-of-war before. but not in weather like this." "then i want to stay up here. and that mulatto woman you took on board frightens me, almost as much as this." "then stay. for now. but if they get us in range, i want you below." he glanced aloft, where men clinging to the swaying yards had just secured the main tops'ls. as the storm worsened, more lightning flashed in the west, bringing prayers and curses from the seamen. "the weather's about as bad as it could be. i've never had the _defiance_ under full sail when it's been like this. i never want to again." after the topgallants were unfurled and secured, they seemed to start picking up momentum. the _gloucester_ was still off their portside, but far enough astern that she could not use her guns. and she was no longer gaining. "maybe we can still outrun them?" she moved alongside winston. "there's a fair chance." he was holding the whipstaff on a steady course. "but they've not got all their canvas on yet. they know it's risky." he turned to study the warship and she saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes, but he quickly masked it. "in good weather, they could manage it. but with a storm like this, maybe not." he paused as the lightning flared again. "still, if they decide to chance the rest of their sail . . ." she settled herself against the binnacle to watch the _gloucester_. then she noticed the warship's tops'ls being unfurled. winston saw it too. the next lightning flash revealed that the _gloucester_ had now begun to run out her upper row of guns, as the distance between them slowly began to narrow once more. "looks as if they're going to gamble what's left of their running rigging, katy. i think you'd best be below." "no, i . . ." winston turned and yelled toward the main deck, "john, pass the order. if they pull in range, tell canninge to just fire at will whenever the portside guns bear. same as when that revenue frigate _royale_ once tried to board us. maybe he can cripple their gun deck long enough to try and lose them in the dark." "aye." a muted cry drifted back through the howl of rain. "hugh, i love you." she touched the sleeve of his jerkin. "i think i even know what it means now." he looked at her, her hair tangled in the rain. "katy, i love you enough to want you below. besides, it's not quite time to say our farewells yet." "i know what's next. they'll pull to windward of us and just fire away. they'll shoot away our rigging till we're helpless, and then they'll hole us till we take on enough water to go down." "it's not going to be that easy. don't forget we've got some ordnance of our own. just pray they can't set theirs in this sea." lightning flashed once more, glistening off the row of cannon on the english warship. they had range now, and katherine could see the glimmer of lighted linstocks through the open gunports. "gracious lord, for what we are about to receive, make us truly thankful." john mewes was mounting the quarterdeck to watch. "this looks to be it, cap'n." "just keep on praying, john. and get back down on deck. i want every inch of sail on those yards." "aye, i'd like the same, save i don't know where exactly we've got any more to put on, unless i next hoist my own linen." he crossed himself, then headed down the companion way. suddenly a gun on the _gloucester_ flared, sending an eighteen-pound round shot through the upper sails of the _defiance_, inches from the maintop. then again, and this time the edge of the fo'c'sle ripped away, spraying splinters across the deck. "john! tell canninge he'd better start firing the second his guns bear. and he'd best be damned quick on it too." even as he spoke, a roar sounded from below and the deck tilted momentarily sideways. katherine watched as a line of shot splintered into the planking along the side of the _gloucester_, between her gun decks. "damn, he came close." winston studied the damage. "but not close enough." again the lightning flashed, nearer now, a wide network across the heavens, and she saw the _gloucester's_ captain standing on his own quarterdeck, nervously staring aloft at the storm. "katy, please go below. this is going to get very bad. if they catch this deck, there'll be splinters everywhere. not to mention ..." the _gloucester's _guns flamed again. she felt the deck tremble as an eighteen-pound shot slammed into the side of the _defiance_, up near the bow. "john, let's have some more of those prayers." winston yelled down again. "and while you're at it, tell canninge to give them another round the second he's swabbed out. he's got to hurt that upper gun deck soon or we're apt to be in for a long night." "hugh, can't we . . ." she stopped as she saw a figure in a bloodstained white shift slowly moving up the companionway. "good christ." he had seen it too. "katy, try and keep her the hell off the quarterdeck and out of the way." while he threw his shoulder against the whipstaff and began shouting more orders to mewes on the main deck, serina mounted the last step. she moved across the planking toward them, her eyes glazed, even more than before. "come below, senhora." katherine reached out for her. "you could be hurt." the mulata's hand shot up and seized her arm with an iron grip. katherine felt her feet give way, and the next thing she knew she had been flung sideways against the hard rope shrouds. "_e pada nibi!_" the voice was deep, chilling. then she turned and advanced menacingly on winston. "god damn you!" he shoved her back, then reached to help katherine. "katy, are you all right? just watch out for her. i wager she's gone mad after all that's happened. if we get time i'll have some of the boys come and take her below." again the _gloucester's_ guns flared, and a whistle sang across the quarterdeck as the shot clipped the railing next to where they were standing. serina stared wildly at the shattered rail, then at the english man-of-war. her eyes seemed vacant, as though looking through all she saw. "good christ, katy, take a look at those skies." winston felt a chill in his bowels as the lightning blossomed again. "the wind is changing; i can feel it. something's happening. if we lose a yard, or tear a sail, they'll take us in a minute. all it needs is one quick shift, too much strain." as if in response to his words, the hull shuddered, then pitched backward, and katherine heard a dull crack from somewhere in the rigging. "christ." winston was staring aloft, his face washed in the rain. she followed his gaze. the mainmast had split, just below the maintop. the topsail had fallen forward, into the foremast, and had ripped through the foresail. a startled main-topman was dangling helplessly from the side of his round perch. then something else cracked, and he tumbled toward the deck, landing in the middle of a crowd of terrified seamen huddled by the fo'c'sle door. "i knew we couldn't bear full sail in this weather. we've just lost a good half of our canvas." he looked back. "you've got to go below now. please. and see if you can somehow take that woman with you. we're in very bad trouble. if i was a religious man, i'd be on my knees praying right now." the _gloucester's_ guns spoke once more, and a shot clipped the quartergallery only feet below where they were, showering splinters upward through the air. "atiba!" serina was staring down over the railing, toward the hole that had been ripped in the corner of the great cabin beneath them. then she looked out at the warship, and the hard voice rose again. "_iwo ko lu oniran li oru o nlu u li ossan?"_ finally her eyes flared and she shouted through the storm, "_shango. oyinbo i'o je!"_ once more the lightning came. later he wondered if he might have been praying after all. he remembered how the fork of fire slid down the mainmast of the _gloucester_, then seemed to envelop the maintop, sending smoke billowing through the tops'ls above. next it coiled about the mainmast shrouds. in moments her main tops'l was aflame, as though she'd been caught with fire-arrows. soon a tongue of the blaze flicked downward and ignited her main course. after that the shrouds began to smolder. almost immediately her seamen began furling the other sails, and all open gunports were quickly slammed down to stop any shreds of burning canvas from accidentally reaching the gun deck. next the helmsman threw his weight against the whipstaff to try and take her off the wind. she was still underway, like a crippled fireship bearing down on them, and for a moment winston thought they were in even greater danger than before. but then the _gloucester's _mainmast slowly toppled forward as the shrouds gave way, tearing into the other rigging, and she heeled. it was impossible to see what followed, because of the rain, but moments later burning spars were drifting across the waves. "it was the hand of providence, as i'm a christian." john mewes was mounting the quarterdeck, solemn and subdued. a crowd of stunned seamen were following him to gain a better view astern. "the roundhead whoresons were tempting fate. they should've known better than puttin' to sea with topmasts like those in this damn'd weather. heaven knows, i could have told them." there was a murmur of assent from the others. they stood praising the beneficence of god and watched as the last burning mast disappeared into the rain. after winston had lashed the whipstaff in place and ordered the sails shortened, he collapsed against the binnacle. "it was a miracle, hugh." katherine wrapped an arm about him. her bodice was soaked with rain and sweat. "i think i was praying. when i'd all but forgotten how." "i've heard of it happening, god knows. but i've never before seen it. just think. if we'd had taller masts, we could well have caught it ourselves." now the mood was lightening, as congratulations began to pass among the men. it was only then katherine noticed the white shift at their feet. the mulatto was crumpled beside the binnacle, still as death. "john, have somebody come and take that woman below." winston glanced down. "she looks to have fainted." "aye. i was near to faintin' myself, truth to tell." finally winston pulled himself up and surveyed the seamen. "i say well done, masters, one and all. so let's all have a word of thanks to the almighty . . . and see if we can locate a keg of brandy. this crew has earned it." katherine leaned against him as she watched the cheering men head for the main deck. "where can we go now, hugh? there'll soon be a price on our heads in every english settlement from virginia to bermuda." "from the shape of our rigging, i'd guess we're going nowhere for a day or so. we've got to heave-to till the weather lets up, and try to mend those sails. after that i figure we'd best steer north, hope to beat the fleet up to nevis, where we can careen and maybe lay in some more victuals." "and then are you really going to try your scheme about jamaica? with just the men you've got here?" "not just yet. you're right about the men. we don't have enough now." he lowered his voice. "so i'm thinking we'll have to make another stop first." "where?" "there's only one place i know of where we can still find what we'll be needing." he slipped his arm about her waist. "a little island off the north coast of hispaniola." "you don't mean tortuga? the cow-killers . . ." "now katy, there's no better time than now to start learning what they're called over there on that side of the caribbean. i know the englishmen here in the caribbees call them the cow-killers, but over there we were always known by our french name." "what's that?" "sort of an odd one. you see, since we cured our meat indian-style, on those greenwood grills they called _boucans_, most seamen over there knew us as the _boucaniers_. and that's the name we kept when we started sailing against the spaniards." "you mean . . .?" "that's right. try and remember it. buccaneer." book three tortuga / jamaica chapter twenty the sun emerged from the distant edge of the sea, burning through the fine mist that hung on the horizon. katherine was standing on the high quartergallery, by the railing at the stern, the better to savor the easterly breeze that tousled her hair and fluttered the cotton sleeves of her seaman's shirt. the quiet of the ship was all but complete, with only the rhythmic splash of waves against the bow and the occasional groan from the masts. she loved being on deck to watch the dawn, out of the sweltering gloom of the great cabin. this morning, when the first light of day brightened the stern windows, she'd crept silently from their narrow bunk, leaving hugh snoring contentedly. she'd made her way up to the quarterdeck, where john mewes dozed beside the steering house where he was to monitor the weathered grey whipstaff, lashed secure on a course due west. now she gazed out over the swells, past the occasional white-caps that dotted the blue, and tasted the cool, moist air. during the voyage she had learned how to read the cast of the sea, the sometimes fickle caribbean winds, the hidden portent in the color of clouds and sun. she'd even begun practicing how to take latitude with the quadrant. suddenly a porpoise surfaced along the stern, then another, and together they began to pirouette in the wake of the ship like spirited colts. was there any place else in the world, she wondered, quite like the caribbean? she never tired of watching for the schools of flying fish that would burst from the sea's surface like flushed grouse, seemingly in chase of the great barracuda that sometimes flashed past the bow. and near the smaller islands, where shallow reefs turned the coastal waters azure, she had seen giant sea turtles, green leatherbacks and rusty-brown loggerheads, big as tubs and floating languorously on the surface. the wildness of the islands and sea had begun to purge her mind, her memory. fresh mornings like this had come to seem harbingers of a new life as well as a new day, even as the quick, golden-hued sunsets promised hugh's warm embrace. after barbados they'd made sail for nevis island, and as they neared the small log-and-clapboard english settlement along its southern shore, the skies had finally become crystalline and dry, heralding the end of the autumn rainy season. they lingered in the island's reef- bound harbor almost three weeks while winston careened the _defiance_ and stripped away her barnacles, scorched the lower planks with burning branches to kill shipworm, then caulked all her leaky seams with hemp and pitch. finally he'd laded in extra barrels of salt beef, biscuit, and fresh water. they were all but ready to weigh anchor the day a dutch merchantman put in with word that the commonwealth fleet had begun preparations to depart barbados. why so soon, they puzzled. where were cromwell's warships bound for now? wherever the fleet's next destination, it scarcely mattered. the american rebellion was finished. after word spread through nevis and st. christopher that barbados had capitulated, all the planters' talk of defiance evaporated. if the largest english settlement in the americas could not stand firm, they reasoned, what chance did the small ones have? a letter pledging fealty to commons was dispatched to the fleet by the assembly of those two sister islands. that step taken, they hoped calvert would bypass them with his hungry army and sail directly for virginia, whose blustering royalists everyone now expected to also yield without a murmur. still, after news came that the troops were readying to move out, katherine had agreed with winston that they shouldn't chance being surprised at nevis. who could tell when the commonwealth's warships might suddenly show themselves on the southern horizon? the next morning they weighed anchor, heading north for the first two hundred leagues, then steering due west. that had been six days ago. . . . "you're lookin' lovely this morning, m'lady." john mewes' groggy voice broke the silence as he started awake, then rose and stretched and ambled across the quarterdeck toward the bannister where she stood. "i'd say there she is, sure as i'm a christian." he was pointing south, in the direction of the dim horizon, where a grey-green land mass had emerged above the dark waters. "the pride of the spaniards." "what is it, john?" "why, that's apt to be none other than hispaniola, yor ladyship. plain as a pikestaff. an' right on schedule." he bellied against the bannister and yawned. "doesn't look to have budged an inch since last i set eyes on her." she smiled. "then that must mean we're nearing tortuga. by the map, i remember it's just off the north coast, around latitude twenty." "aye, we'll likely be raisin' the old 'turtle' any time now. though in truth i'd as soon ne'er see the place again." "why do you say that?" "'tis home and hearth of the finest assembly of thieves as you're e'er like to cross this side of newgate prison. an' that's the fact of the matter." "are you trying to make me believe you've actually been there, john?" she regarded him carefully. john mewes, she had come to realize, was never at a loss for a story to share--though his distinction between truth and fancy was often imprecise. "aye,'twas some years past, as the sayin' goes. when the merchantman i was quartermaster on put in for a week to careen." he spat into the sea and hitched up the belt on his breeches. "what exactly was it like?" "a brig out of portsmouth. a beamy two master, with damn'd seams that'd opened on us wide as a dutch whore's cunny--beggin' yor ladyship's pardon--which is why we had to put in to caulk her . . ." "tortuga, john." "aye, the turtle. like i was sayin', she's the sodom of the indies, make no mistake. fair enough from afar, i grant you, but try and put in, an' you'll find out soon enough she's natural home for the rogue who'd as soon do without uninvited company. that's why that nest of pirates has been there so long right under the very nose of the pox- rotted spaniards. mind you, she's scarcely more than twenty or thirty miles tip to tip, but the north side's a solid cliff, lookin' down on the breakers, whilst the other's just about nothing save shallow flats an' mangrove thickets. there's only one bay where you can put in with a frigate, a spot called basse terre, there on the south--that is, if you can steer through the reefs that line both sides of the channel goin' into it. but once you're anchored,'tis a passing good harbor, for it all. fine sandy bottom, with draft that'll take a seventy-gun brig." "so that's how the cow-killers . . . the buccaneers have managed to keep the island? there's only one spot the spaniards could try and land infantry, and to get there you've got to go through a narrow passage in the reefs, easy to cover with cannon?" "i'd say that's about the size of it. no bottom drops anchor at tortuga unless those rogues say you aye." he turned and began to secure a loose piece of line dangling from the shroud supporting the mizzenmast. "then too there's your matter of location. you see, m'lady, the island lays right athwart the windward passage, betwixt hispaniola and cuba, which is one of the spaniards' main shippin' lanes. couldn't be handier if you're thinkin' to lighten a papist merchantman now and again. . . ." mewes' voice trailed off as he glanced up to see winston emerge at the head of the companionway, half asleep and still shirtless under his jerkin. following after him was atiba, wearing a pair of ill-fitting seaman's breeches, his bare shoulders glistening in the sun's early glow. when he spotted mewes, he gave a solemn bow, yoruba style. "_ku abo_, senhor." "aye, _qu ava_ it is." mewes nodded back, then turned to katherine. "now, for your edification that means 'greetings,' or such like. since i've been teachin' him english, i've been pickin' up a few of the finer points of that african gabble of his, what with my natural gift for language." "god's life, you are learning fastly, senhor mewes." atiba smiled. "and since you are scholaring my tongue so well, mayhaps i should cut some of our clan marks on your mug, like mine. it is a damnable great ceremony of my country." "pox on your 'damnable great ceremonies.'" mewes busied himself with the shroud. "i'll just keep my fine face the way it is, and thank you kindly all the same." winston sleepily kissed katherine on the forehead. she gave him a long hug, then pointed toward the south. "john claims that's hispaniola." "one and the same. the queen of the greater antilles. take a good look, katy. i used to hunt cattle in those very woods. that mountain range over in mid-island means we should raise tortuga any time now." he turned and began unlashing the whipstaff, then motioned atiba forward. "want to try the helm for a while? to get the feel of her?" "my damnable shoulder is good, senhor. i can set a course with this stick, or cut by a sword, as better than ever." "we'll see soon enough." he watched atiba grasp the long hardwood lever and test it. "i just may need you along to help me reason with my old friend jacques." "hugh, tell me some more about what he's like." katherine took another look at the hazy outline of hispaniola, then moved alongside them. "jacques le basque?" winston smiled and thought back. nobody knew where jacques was from, or who he was. they were all refugees from some other place, and most went by assumed names--even he had been known simply as "anglais." "i'd guess he's french, but i never really knew all that much about him, though we hunted side by side for a good five years." he thumbed toward the green mountains. "but i can tell you one thing for sure: jacques le basque created a new society on northern hispaniola, and tortuga." "what do you mean?" "katy, you talked about having an independent nation in the americas, a place not under the thumb of europe? well, he made one right over there. we _boucaniers_ were a nation of sorts--shipwrecked seamen, runaway indentures, half of them with jail or a noose waiting in one of the other settlements. but any man alive was welcome to come and go as he liked." katherine examined his lined face. "hugh, you told me you once tried to kill jacques over some misunderstanding. but you never explained exactly what it was about." winston fell silent and the only sound was the lap of waves against the bow. maybe, he told himself, the time has come. he took a deep breath and turned to her. "remember how i told you the spaniards came and burned out the providence company's english settlement on tortuga? as it happened, i was over on hispaniola with jacques at the time or i probably wouldn't be here now. well, the spaniards stayed around for a week or so, and troubled to hang some of jacques's lads who happened in with a load of hides. when we found out about it, he called a big parlay over what we ought to do. all the hunters came--french, english, even some dutchmen. every man there hated the spaniards, and we decided to pull together what cannon were left and fortify the harbor at basse terre, in case they got a mind to come back." "and?" "then after some time went by jacques got the idea we ought not just wait for them. that wed best try and take the fight back. so he sent word around the north side of hispaniola that any man who wanted to help should meet him on tortuga. when everybody got there, he announced we needed to be organized, like the spaniards. then he stove open a keg of brandy and christened us les freres de la cote, the brotherhood of the coast. after we'd all had a tankard or two, he explained he wanted to try and take a spanish ship." "you mean he sort of declared war on spain?" "as a matter of fact, that's how it turned out." he smiled. "jacques said we'd hunted the spaniards' cattle long enough; now we would hunt the whoreson spaniards themselves. we'd sail under our old name of _boucanier_, and he swore that before we were through nobody would remember the time it only meant cow hunters. we'd make it the most dreaded word a spaniard could hear." john mewes was squinting toward the west now, past the bowsprit. abruptly he secured a last knot in the shroud, then headed down the companionway and past the seamen loitering by the mainmast. "and that was the beginning? when the cow-killers became sea rovers and pirates?" for some reason the story made her vaguely uneasy. "you were actually there? a part of it?" "i was there." winston paused to watch mewes. "so then you . . . joined them?" "no particular reason not to. the damned spaniards had just murdered some of ours, katy, not to mention about six hundred english settlers. i figured why not give them a taste back? besides, it looked to be the start of a grand adventure. we got together as many arms as we could muster, muskets and axes, and put to sea. us against the spaniards . . ." "cap'n, care to come forward an' have a look?" mewes was pointing at the dark green hump that had just appeared on the horizon. "that looks to be her, if i'm not amiss." winston turned to study the sea ahead of them. just above the surface of the sea was the tip of a large hump, deep green like a leatherback turtle. "aye. maybe youd best order all hands to station for the afternoon watch, john." he reached back and kissed katherine lightly. "katy, the rest of this little tale will have to wait. we've got to get ready now. in truth, i don't exactly know how pleased my old friend jacques is going to be seeing me again after all these years." as she watched him head down the companionway, she felt a curious mixture of excitement and unease. now, all at once, she was wondering if she really did want to know what hugh had been like back then. perhaps, she told herself, there are some things better just forgotten. _"bon soir, capitaine_." a young man carrying a candle-lantern was standing at the water's edge to greet their longboat as winston, john mewes, and atiba, backed by five seamen with flintlocks, rowed in to the shallows. "tibaut de fontenay, _a votre service, messieurs_. we spotted your mast lights from up at the forte. since you seemed to know the reefs, we assumed you had been here before. so you are welcome." he appeared to be in his early twenties and was attired lavishly--a plumed hat topped his long curls, his long velvet waistcoat was parted rakishly to display an immaculate white cravat, and high, glistening boots shaped his calves. the dull glow of the lantern illuminated an almost obsequious grin. around them the dark outlines of a dozen frigates nodded in the light swell, while lines of foam, sparkling in the moonlight, chased up the shore. the _defiance_ had been the last vessel to navigate basse terre's narrow channel of reefs before the quick caribbean dusk descended. "the name is winston. master of the _defiance_." he slid over the gunwale of the longboat and waded through the light surf. "late of barbados and nevis." "_bienvenue_." the man examined him briefly, then smiled again as he extended his hand and quickly shifted to heavily-accented english. "your affairs, _capitaine_, are of course no concern to us here. any man who comes in peace is welcome at la tortue, in the name of his majesty, king louis quatorze of france." "what the devil!" winston drew back his hand and stared up at the lantern-lit assemblage of taverns along the shore. "tortuga is french now?" "_mais oui_, for the better part of a year. the _gouverneur_ of st. christophe--the french side--found it necessary to dispatch armed frigates and take this island under his authority. the anglais _engages_ planting here were sent on their way; they are fortunate we did not do worse. but ships of all nations are always invited to trade for our fine hides, brasil wood for making dye, and the most succulent _viande fumee_ you will taste this side of paris." he bowed lightly, debonairly. "or londres. we also have a wide assortment of items in spanish gold for sale here--and we have just received a shipload of lovely mademoiselles from marseilles to replace the diseased english whores who had come near to ruining this port's reputation." "we don't need any provisions, and we don't have time for any entertainment this stop. the _defiance_ is just passing through, bound for the windward passage. i'd thought to put in for tonight and have a brandy with an old friend. jacques le basque. know if he's around?" "my master?" the man quickly raised his lantern to scrutinize winston's face. "he does not normally receive visitors at the forte, but you may send him your regards through me. i will be happy to tell him a capitaine winston ..." "what in hell are you talking about? what 'fort' is that?" "forte de la roche, 'the fort on the rock,' up there." he turned to point through the dark. on a hill overlooking the harbor a row of torches blazed, illuminating a battery of eighteen-pound culverin set above a high stone breastwork. "when was that built? it wasn't here before." "only last year, capitaine. part of our new fortifications. it is the residence of our _commandant de place_. "your _commandant_ . . ." winston stopped dead still. "you've got a governor here now?" "_oui_." he smiled. "in fact, you are fortunate. he is none other than your friend jacques. he was appointed to the post last year by the chevalier de poncy of st. christophe, administrator of all our french settlements in the caribbean." he examined the men in the longboat, his glance anxiously lingering on atiba, who had a shiny new cutlass secured at his waist. "may i take it you knew jacques well?" "i knew him well enough in the old days, back before he arranged to have himself appointed governor. but then i see times have changed." "many things have changed here, capitaine." "i'll say they have." winston signaled for atiba to climb out of the longboat. "but my friend and i are going up to this 'forte' and pay a visit to commandant le basque, and you can save your messages and diplomatic papers. he knows who i am." de fontenay stiffened, not quite sure how to reply. as he did, a band of seamen emerged out of the dark and came jostling down the sandy shore toward them, carrying candle-lanterns and tankards and singing an english chantey with convivial relish. _". . . we took aboard the captain's daughter, and gave her fire 'twixt wind and water . . ." _ several were in pairs, their arms about each other's shoulders. all were garbed in a flamboyant hodgepodge of european fashions--gold rings and medallions, stolen from the passengers of spanish merchant frigates, glistened in the lantern light. most wore fine leather sea boots; a few were barefoot. the man at their head was carrying a large keg. when he spotted the bobbing longboat, he motioned the procession to a halt, tossed the keg onto the sand, and sang out an invitation. "welcome to you, masters. there's a virgin pipe of spanish brandy here we're expectin' to violate. we'd not take it amiss if you'd help us to our work." he drew a pistol from his belt and swung its gold-trimmed butt against the wooden stopper in the bunghole, knocking it inward. "_no, monsieur. merci. bien des remerciements_." de fontenay's voice betrayed a faint quaver. "i regret we have no time. i and my good friend, the anglais here . . ." "i wasn't asking you to drink, you arse-sucking french pimp." the man with the pistol scowled as he recognized de fontenay. "i'd not spare you the sweat off my bollocks if you were adyin' of thirst." he turned toward winston. "but you and your lads are welcome, sir, whoever you might be. i'll wager no honest englishman ever declined a cup in good company. my name is guy bartholomew, and if you know anything of this place, you'll not have to be told i'm master of the _swiftsure_, the finest brig in this port." winston examined him in the flickering light. yes, it was guy bartholomew all right. he'd been one of the original _boucaniers_, and he'd hated jacques from the first. "permit me to introduce capitaine winston of the _defiance_, messieurs." de fontenay tried to ignore bartholomew's pistol. "he has asked me personally to . . ." "winston? the _defiance_? god's wounds." bartholomew doffed his black hat. "let me drink to your good health. captain." he paused to fill his tankard with the dark brown liquid spilling from the keg, then hoisted it in an impromptu toast. "you don't remember me from before, bartholomew? back on hispaniola?" the boucanier stared at him drunkenly. "no, sir. i can't rightly say as i do. but yours is a name known well enough in this part of the world, that's for certain. you wouldn't be planning to do a bit of sailing from this port, would you now? 'twould be a pleasure to have you amongst us." "monsieur," de fontenay was edging on up the hill, "capitaine winston is a personal friend of our commandant, and we must . . ." "a friend of jacques?" bartholomew studied winston's face. "i'd not believe any such damn'd lies and calumnies of an honest englishman like you, sir." "i knew him many years past, bartholomew. i hope he remembers me better than you do. though i'm not sure he still considers me a friend after our little falling out." "well, sir, i can tell you this much. things have changed mightily since the old days. back then he only stole from the pox-eaten spaniards. now he and that french bastard de poncy rob us all. they take a piece of all the spaniards' booty we bring in, and then jacques demands another ten percent for himself, as his 'landing fee.' he even levies a duty on all the hides the hunters bring over from hispaniola to sell." de fontenay glared. "there must always be taxes, anywhere. jacques is commandant now, and the chevalier de poncy has ..." "commandant?" bartholomew snorted. "my lads have another name for him, sir. if he ever dared come down here and meet us, the englishmen in this port would draw lots to see who got the pleasure of cutting his throat. he knows we can't sail from any other settlement. it's only because he's got those guns up there at the fort, covering the bay, and all his damned guards, that he's not been done away with long before now." he turned back to winston. "the bastard's made himself a dungeon up there beneath the rock, that he calls purgatory. go against him and that's where you end up. few men have walked out of it alive, i'll tell you that." de fontenay shifted uneasily and toyed with a curl. "purgatory will not be there forever, i promise you." "so you say. but you may just wind up there yourself one day soon, sir, and then we'll likely hear you piping a different tune. even though you are his _matelot_, which i'll warrant might more properly be called his whore." "what i am to jacques is no affair of yours." "aye, i suppose the goings-on in the fort are not meant to be known to the honest ships' masters in this port. but we still have eyes, sir, for all that. i know you're hoping that after jacques is gone, that frenchman de poncy will make you commandant of this place, this stinking piss-hole. just because the code of the _boucaniers_ makes you jacques' heir. but it'll not happen, sir, by my life. never." "monsieur, enough._ suffit_!" de fontenay spat out the words, then turned back to winston. "shall we proceed up to the forte?" he gestured toward the hill ahead. "or do you intend to stay and spend the night talking with these anglais _cochons_?" "my friend, do beware of that old bastard." bartholomew caught winston's arm, and his voice grew cautionary. "god almighty, i could tell you such tales. he's daft as a loon these days. i'd be gone from this place in a minute if i could just figure how." "he tried to kill me once, master bartholomew, in a little episode you might recall if you set your mind to it. but i'm still around." winston nodded farewell, then turned back toward the longboat. john mewes sat nervously waiting, a flintlock across his lap. "john, take her on back and wait for us. atiba's coming with me. and no shore leave for anybody till morning." "aye." mewes eyed the drunken seamen as he shoved off. "see you mind yourself, cap'n. i'll expect you back by sunrise or i'm sendin' the lads to get you." "till then." winston gestured atiba to move alongside him, then turned back to de fontenay. "shall we go." "_avec plaisir, capitaine_. these anglais who sail for us can be most _dangereux_ when they have had so much brandy." the young frenchman paused as he glanced uncertainly at atiba. the tall african towered by winston's side. "will your . . . _gentilhomme de service_ be accompanying you?" "he's with me." "_bon_. "he cleared his throat. "as you wish." he lifted his lantern and, leaving bartholomew's men singing on the shore, headed up the muddy, torch-lit roadway leading between the cluster of taverns that comprised the heart of basse terre's commercial center. "how long has it been since you last visited us, capitaine?" de fontenay glanced back. "i have been _matelot_ to jacques for almost three years, but i don't recall the pleasure of welcoming you before this evening." "it's been a few years. back before jacques became governor. " "was this your home once, senhor?" atiba was examining the shopfronts along the street, many displaying piles of silks and jewelry once belonging to the passengers on spanish merchantmen. along either side, patched-together taverns and brothels spilled their cacophony of songs, curses, and raucous fiddle music into the muddy paths that were streets. winston laughed. "well, it was scarcely like this. there used to be thatched huts along here and piles of hides and smoked beef ready for barter. all you could find to drink in those days was a tankard of cheap kill-devil. but the main difference is the fort up there, which is a noticeable improvement over that rusty set of culverin we used to have down along the shore." "i gather it must have been a very long time ago. monsieur, that you were last here." de fontenay was moving hurriedly past the rickety taverns, heading straight for the palm-lined road leading up the hill to the fort. "probably some ten years or so." "then i wonder if jacques will still remember you." winston laughed. "i expect he does." de fontenay started purposefully up the road. about six hundred yards from the shoreline the steep slope of a hill began. the climb was long and tortuous, and the young frenchman was breathing heavily by the time they were halfway up. "this place is damnable strong, senhor. very hard to attack, even with guns." atiba shifted the cutlass in his belt and peered up the hill, toward the line of torches. he was moving easily, his bare feet molding to the rough rock steps. "it could never be stormed from down below, that much is sure." winston glanced back. "but we're not here to try and take this place. he can keep tortuga and bleed it dry for all i care. i'll just settle for some of those men i saw tonight. if they want to part company with him . . ." "those whoresons are not lads who fight," atiba commented. "they are drunkards." "they can fight as well as they drink." winston smiled. "don't let the brandy fool you." "your _brancos_ are a damnable curiosity, senhor." he grunted. "i am waiting to see how my peoples here live, the slaves." "the _boucaniers_ don't cut cane, so they don't have slaves." "then mayhaps i will drink with them." "you'd best hold that till after we're finished with jacques, my friend." winston glanced up toward the fort. "just keep i your cutlass handy." they had reached the curving row of steps that led through the arched gateway of the fortress. above them a steep wall of cut stone rose up against the dark sky, and across the top, illuminated by torches, was the row of culverin. sentries armed with flintlocks, in helmets and flamboyant spanish coats, barred the gateway till de fontenay waved them aside. then guards inside unbolted the iron gate and they moved up the final stairway. winston realized the fort had been built on a natural plateau, with terraces inside the walls which would permit several hundred musketmen to fire unseen down on the settlement below. from somewhere in the back he could hear the gurgle of a spring--meaning a supply of fresh water, one of the first requirements of a good fortress. jacques had found a natural redoubt and fortified it brilliantly. all the settlement and the harbor now were under his guns. only the mountain behind, a steep precipice, had any vantage over forte de la roche. "senhor, what is that?" atiba was pointing toward the massive boulder, some fifty feet wide and thirty feet high, that rested in the center of the yard as though dropped there by the hand of god. winston studied it, puzzling, then noticed a platform atop the rock, with several cannon projecting out. a row of brick steps led halfway up the side, then ended abruptly. when they reached the base, de fontenay turned back. "the citadel above us is jacques's personal residence, what he likes to call his 'dovecote.' it will be necessary for you to wait here while i ask him to lower the ladder." "the ladder?" "_mais oui_, a security measure. no one is allowed up there without his consent." he called up, identified himself, and after a pause the first rungs of a heavy iron ladder appeared through an opening in the platform. slowly it began to be lowered toward the last step at the top of the stair. again de fontenay hesitated. "perhaps it might be best if i go first, messieurs. jacques is not fond of surprises." "he never was." winston motioned for atiba to stay close. de fontenay hung his lantern on a brass spike at the side of the stairs, then turned and lightly ascended the rungs. from the platform above, two musketmen covered his approach with flintlocks. he saluted them, then disappeared. as winston waited, atiba at his side, he heard a faint human voice, a low moaning sound, coming from somewhere near their feet. he looked down and noticed a doorway at the base of the rock, leading into what appeared to be an excavated chamber. the door was of thick hewn logs with only a small grate in its center. was that, he wondered, the dungeon bartholomew called purgatory? suddenly he felt an overwhelming sense of anger and betrayal at what jacques had become. whatever else he might have been, this was the man whose name once stood for freedom. and now . . . he was turning to head down and inspect purgatory first-hand when a welcome sounded from the platform above. "_mon ami! bienvenue_, anglais. _mon dieu, il y a tres long-temps!_ a good ten years, _n 'est-ce pas_?" a bearded face peered down, while a deep voice roared with pleasure. "perhaps you've finally learned something about how to shoot after all this time. come up and let me have a look at you." "and maybe you've improved your aim, jacques. your last pistol ball didn't get you a hide." winston turned back and reached for the ladder. "_oui_, truly it did not, anglais. how near did i come?" he extended a rough hand as winston emerged. "close enough." winston stepped onto the platform of the citadel. in the flickering torchlight he recognized the old leader of the _boucaniers_, now grown noticeably heavier; his thick beard, once black as onyx, was liberally threaded with white. he sported a ruffled doublet of red silk and had stuffed his dark calico breeches into bucket-top sea boots of fine spanish leather. the gold rings on several fingers glistened with jewels, and the squint in his eyes was deep and malevolent. le basque embraced winston, then drew back and studied his scar. "_mon dieu_, so i came closer than i thought. _mes condoleances_. i must have been sleepy that morning. i'd fully intended to take your head." "how about some of your french brandy, you old _batard_? for me and my friend. by the look of things, i'd say you can afford it." "_vraiment_. brandy for the anglais . . . and his friend." the boucanier nodded warily as he saw atiba appear at the top of the ladder. after a moment's pause, he laughed again, throatily. "truly i can afford anything. the old days are over. i'm rich. many a spaniard has paid for what they did to us back then." he turned and barked an order to de fontenay. the young man bowed, then moved smoothly through the heavy oak doors leading into jacques's residence. "you know, i still hear of you from time to time, anglais. but never before have we seen you here, _n 'est-ce pas_? how have you been?" "well enough. i see you've been busy yourself." winston glanced up at the brickwork house jacques had erected above the center of the rock. it was a true citadel. along the edge of the platform, looking out, a row of nine-pound demi-culverin had been installed. "but what's this talk you chased off the english planters?" "they annoyed me. you know that never was wise. so i decided to be rid of them. besides, it's better this way. a few were permitted to stay on and sail for me, but la tortue must be french." he reached for a tankard from the tray de fontenay was offering. "i persuaded our _gouverneur_ up on st. christophe to send down a few frigates to help me secure this place." "is that why you keep men in a dungeon up here? we never had such things in the old days." "my little purgatory?" he handed the tankard to winston, then offered one to atiba. the yoruba eyed him coldly and waved it away. jacques shrugged, taking a sip himself before continuing. "surely you understand the need for discipline. if these men disobey me, they must be dealt with. otherwise, no one remembers who is in charge of this place." "i thought we'd planned to just punish the spaniards, not each other." "but we are, anglais, we are. remember when i declared they would someday soil their breeches whenever they heard the word '_boucanier'_? well, it's come true. they swear using my name. half the time the craven bastards are too terrified to cock a musket when my men board one of their merchant frigates." he smiled. "everything we wanted back then has come to pass. sweet revenge." he reached and absently drew a finger down de fontenay's arm. "but tell me, anglais, have you got a woman these days? or a _matelot_?" he studied atiba. "an englishwoman is sailing with me. she's down on the _defiance_." "the _defiance_?" "my spanish brig." "_oui_, but of course. i heard how you acquired it." he laughed and stroked his beard. "_alors_, tomorrow you must bring this anglaise of yours up and let me meet her. show her how your old friend has made his way in the world." "that depends. i thought we'd empty a tankard or two tonight and talk a bit." "_bon_. nothing better." he signaled to de fontenay for a refill, and the young man quickly stepped forward with the flask. "tonight we remember old times." winston laughed. "could be there're a few things about the old days we'd best let be. so maybe i'll just work on this fine brandy of yours and hear how you're getting along these days with our good friends the spaniards." "ah, anglais, we get on very well. i have garroted easily a hundred of those bastards for every one of ours they killed back then, and taken enough cargo to buy a kingdom. you know, if their nuevo espana armada, the one that ships home silver from their mines in mexico, is a week overdue making the canary islands, the king of spain and all his creditors from italy to france cannot shit for worrying i might have taken it. someday, my friend, i will." "good. i'll drink to it." winston lifted his tankard. "to the spaniards." jacques laughed. "_oui_. and may they always be around to keep me rich." "on that subject, old friend, i had a little project in mind. i was thinking maybe i'd borrow a few of your lads and stage a raid on a certain spanish settlement." "anglais, why would you want to bother? believe me when i tell you there's not a town on the main i could not take tomorrow if i choose. but they're mostly worthless." he drank again, then rose and strolled over to the edge of the platform. below, mast lights were speckled across the harbor, and music drifted up from the glowing tavern windows. "by the time you get into one, the spaniards have carried everything they own into the forest and emptied the place." "i'll grant you that. but did you ever consider taking one of their islands? say . . . jamaica?" "_mon ami_, the rewards of an endeavor must justify the risk." jacques strolled back and settled heavily into a deep leather chair. "what's over there? besides their militia?" "they've got a fortress and a town, villa de la vega, and there's bound to be a bit of coin, maybe even some plate. but the harbor's the real . . ." "_oui, peut-etre_. perhaps there's a sou or two to be had there somewhere. but why trouble yourself with a damned militia when there're merchantmen plying the windward passage day in and day out, up to their gunwales with plate, pearls from their oyster beds down at margarita, even silks shipped overland from those manila galleons that put in at acapulco . . .?" "you know an english captain named jackson took that fortress a few years back, and ransomed it for twenty thousand pieces-of-eight? that's a hundred and sixty thousand _reals_. " "anglais, i also know very well they have a battery of guns in that fort, covering the harbor. it wouldn't be all that simple to storm." "as it happens, i've taken on a pilot who knows that harbor better than you know the one right down below, and i'm thinking i might sail over and see it." winston took another swallow. "you're welcome to send along some men if you like. i'll split any metal money and plate with them." "forget it. anglais. none of these men will . . ." "wait a minute, jacques. you don't own them. that was never the way. so if some of these lads decide to sail with me, that's their own affair." "my friend, why do you think i am the _commandant de place_ if i do not command? have you seen those culverin just below us, trained on the bay? no frigate enters basse terre--or leaves it--against my will. even yours, _mon ami_. don't lose sight of that." "i thought you were getting smarter than you used to be, jacques." "don't try and challenge me again, anglais." jacques's hand had edged slowly toward the pistol in his belt, but then he glanced at atiba and hesitated. "though it's not my habit to kill a man while he's drinking my brandy." he smiled suddenly, breaking the tension, and leaned back. "it might injure my reputation for hospitality." "when i'm in the fortress overlooking jamaica bay one day soon, i'll try and remember to drink your health." "you really think you can do it, don't you?" he sobered and studied winston. "it's too easy not to. but i told you we could take it as partners, together." "anglais, i'm not a fool. you don't have the men to manage it alone. so you're hoping i'll give you some of mine." "i don't want you to 'give' me anything, you old whoremaster. i said we would take it together. "forget it. i have better things to do." he smiled. "but all the same, it's always good to see an old friend again. stay a while. anglais. what if tomorrow night we feasted like the old days, _boucanier_ style? why not show your _femme_ how we used to live?" "jacques, we've got victuals on the _defiance_." "is that what you think of me?" he sighed. "that i would forgo this chance to relive old times? bring this _petite_ anglaise of yours up and let her meet your old _ami_. i knew you before you were sure which end of a musket to prime. i watched you bring down your first wild boar. and now, when i welcome you and yours with open arms, you scorn my generosity." "we're not finished with this matter of the spaniards, my friend." "_certainement_. perhaps i will give it some consideration. we can think about it tomorrow night, while we all share some brandy and dine on _barbacoa_, same as the old days. as long as i breathe, nothing else will ever taste quite so good." he motioned for de fontenay to lower the iron ladder. "we will remember the way we used to live. in truth. i even think i miss it at times. life was simpler then." "things don't seem so simple around here any more, jacques." "but we can remember, my friend. humility. it nourishes the soul." "to old times then, jacques." he drained his tankard and signaled for atiba. "tomorrow." "_oui_, anglais. _a demain_. and my regards to your friend here with the cutlass." he smiled as he watched them start down the ladder. "but why don't you ask him to stay down there tomorrow? i must be getting old, because that sword of his is starting to make me nervous. and we wouldn't want anything to upset our little _fete_, now would we, _mon frere_?" * * * * * katherine stood at the bannister amidships. serina by her side, and studied the glimmer of lights along the shore, swaying clusters of candle-lanterns as seamen passed back and forth in longboats between the brothels of tortuga and their ships. the buccaneers. they lived in a world like none she had ever seen. as the shouts, curses, songs, and snatches of music drifted out over the gentle surf, she had to remind herself that this raffish settlement was the home of brigands unwelcome in any other place. yet from her vantage now, they seemed like harmless, jovial children. still, anchored alongside the _defiance_ were some of the most heavily armed brigantines in the new world--no bottom here carried fewer than thirty guns. the men, too, were murderers, who killed spanish civilians as readily as infantry. jacques le basque presided over the most dreaded naval force in the new world. he had done more to endanger spain's fragile economy than all the protestant countries together. if they grew any stronger, the few hundred men on this tiny island might well so disrupt spain's vital lifeline of silver from the americas as to bankrupt what once had been europe's mightiest empire. . . . the report of a pistol sounded from somewhere along the shore, followed by yells of glee and more shots. several men in spanish finery had begun firing into the night to signal the commencement of an impromptu celebration. as they marched around a keg of liquor, a cluster of women, prostitutes from the taverns, shrieked in drunken encouragement and joined in the melee. "this place is very frightening, senhora." serina shivered and edged next to katherine. her hair was tied in a kerchief, african style, as it had been for all the voyage. "i have never seen _branco_ like these. they seem so crazy, so violent." "just be thankful we're not spaniards, or we'd find out just how violent they really are." "remember i once lived in brazil. we heard stories about this place." "'tis quite a sight, yor ladyships." john mewes had ambled over to the railing, beside them, to watch for winston. "the damnedest crew of rogues and knaves you're ever like to make acquaintance with. things've come to a sad pass that we've got to try recruitin' some of this lot to sail with us." "do you think they're safe ashore, john?" "aye, yor ladyship, on that matter i'd not trouble yourself unduly." mewes fingered the musket he was holding. "you should've seen him once down at curasao, when a gang of dutch shippers didn't like the cheap price we was askin' for a load of kill-devil that'd fallen our way over at . . . i forget where. threatened to board and scuttle us. so the captain and me decided we'd hoist a couple of nine-pound demi's up on deck and stage a little gunnery exercise on a buoy floatin' there on the windward side o' the harbor. after we'd laid it with a couple of rounds, blew it to hell, next thing you know the butterboxes . . ." "john, what's that light over there? isn't that him?" mewes paused and stared. at the shoreline opposite their anchorage a lantern was flashing. "aye, m'lady. that's the signal, sure enough." he smiled. "didn't i tell you there'd be nothing to worry over." with an exhale of relief, he quickly turned and ordered the longboat lowered, assigning four men to the oars and another four to bring flintlocks. the longboat lingered briefly in the surf at the shore, and moments later winston and atiba were headed back toward the ship. "it seems they are safe, senhora." serina was still watching with worried eyes. "perhaps these _branco_ are better than those on barbados." "well, i don't think they have slaves, if that's what you mean. but that's about all you can say for them." a few moments later the longboat bumped against the side of the _defiance_, and winston was pulling himself over the bulwarks, followed by atiba. "katy, break out the tankards. i think we can deal with jacques." he offered her a hug. "he's gone half mad--taken over the island and run off the english settlers. but there're plenty of english _boucaniers_ here who'd like nothing better than to sail from somewhere else." "did he agree to help us?" "of course not. you've got to know him. it's just what i expected. when i brought up our little idea, he naturally refused point-blank. but he knows there're men here who'll join us if they like. which means that tomorrow he'll claim it was his idea all along, then demand the biggest part of what we take for himself." "tomorrow?" "i'm going back up to the fort, around sunset, to sort out details." "i wish you wouldn't." she took his hand. "why don't we just get whatever men we can manage and leave?" "that'd mean a fight." he kissed her lightly. "don't worry. i'll handle jacques. we just have to keep our wits." "well then, i want to go with you." "as a matter of fact he did ask you to come. but that's out of the question." "it's just as dangerous for you as for me. if you're going back, then so am i." "katy, no . . ." "hugh, we've done everything together this far. so if you want to get men from this place, then i'll help you. and if that means i have to flatter this insane criminal, so be it." he regarded her thoughtfully, then smiled. "well, in truth i'm not sure a woman can still turn his head, but i suppose you can give it a try." serina approached them and reached to touch winston's hand. "senhor, was your council of war a success?" "i think so. all things in time." "the branco in this place are very strange. is it true they do not have slaves?" "slaves, no. though they do have a kind of servant here, but even that's different from barbados." "how so, senhor?" "well, there've never been many women around this place. so in the old days a _boucanier_ might acquire a _matelot_, to be his companion, and over the years the _matelots_ got to be more like younger brothers than indentures. they have legal rights of inheritance, for instance, since most _boucaniers_ have no family. a _boucanier_ and his _matelot_ are legally entitled to the other's property if one of them dies." he looked back toward the shore. "also, no man has more than one _matelot_. in fact, if a _boucanier_ does marry a woman, his _matelot_ has conjugal rights to her too." "but, senhor, if the younger man, the _matelot_, inherits everything, what is to keep him from just killing the older man? to gain his freedom, and also the other man's property?" "honor." he shrugged and leaned back against the railing, inhaling the dense air of the island. he lingered pensively for a moment, then turned to katherine. "katy, do remember this isn't just any port. some of those men out there have been known to shoot somebody for no more cause than a tankard of brandy. and underneath it all, jacques is just like the rest. it's when he's most cordial that you'd best beware." "i still want to go." she moved next to him. "i'm going to meet face- to-face with this madman who once tried to kill you." chapter twenty-one the ochre half-light of dusk was settling over the island, lending a warm tint to the deep green of the hillside forests surrounding forte de la roche. in the central yard of the fortress, directly beneath le basque's "dovecote," his uniformed guards loitered alongside the row of heavy culverin, watching the mast lights of anchored frigates and brigantines nod beneath the cloudless sky. tibaut de fontenay had taken no note of the beauty of the evening. he was busy tending the old-fashioned _boucan _jacques had ordered constructed just behind the cannon. though he stood on the windward side, he still coughed occasionally from the smoke that threaded upward, over the "dovecote" and toward the hill above. the _boucan _itself consisted of a rectangular wooden frame supporting a greenwood grill, set atop four forked posts. over the frame and grill a thatchwork of banana leaves had been erected to hold in the piquant smoke of the smoldering naseberry branches beneath. several haunches of beef lay flat on the grill, and now the fire was coating them with a succulent red veneer. it was the traditional taino indian method of cooking and preserving meat, _barbacoa_, that had been adopted intact by the boucaniers decades before. jacques leaned against the railing at the edge of the platform above, pewter tankard in hand, contentedly stroking his salt-and-pepper beard as he gazed out over the harbor and the multihued sunset that washed his domain in misty ambers. finally, he turned with a murmur of satisfaction and beckoned for katherine to join him. she glanced uneasily toward winston, then moved to his side. "the aroma of the _boucan_. mademoiselle, was always the signal the day was ending." he pointed across the wide bay, toward the green mountains of hispaniola. "were we over there tonight, with the hunters, we would still be scraping the last of the hides now, while our _boucan _finished curing the day's kill for storing in our banana-leaf _ajoupa_." he smiled warmly, then glanced down to see if her tankard required attention. "though, of course, we never had such a charming anglaise to leaven our rude company." "i should have thought, monsieur le basque, you might have preferred a frenchwoman." katherine studied him, trying to imagine the time when he and hugh had roamed the forests together. jacques le basque, for all his rough exterior, conveyed an unsettling sensuality. she sensed his desire for her as he stood alongside, and when he brushed her hand, she caught herself trembling involuntarily. "you do me an injustice, mademoiselle, to suggest i would even attempt passing such a judgment." he laughed. "for me, womankind is like a garden, whose flowers each have their own beauty. where is the man who could be so dull as to waste a single moment comparing the deep hue of the rose to the delicate pale of the lily. the petals of each are soft, they both open invitingly at the touch." "do they always open so easily, monsieur le basque?" "please, you must call me jacques." he brushed back a wisp of her hair and paused to admire her face in the light of the sunset. "it is ever a man's duty to awaken the beauty that lies sleeping in a woman's body. too many exquisite creatures never realize how truly lovely they are." "do those lovely creatures include handsome boys as well?" she glanced down at de fontenay, his long curls lying tangled across his delicate shoulders. jacques drank thoughtfully from his tankard. "mademoiselle, there is something of beauty in all god's work. what can a man know of wine if he samples only one vineyard?" "a woman might say, jacques, it depends on whether you prefer flowers, or wine." "_touche_, mademoiselle. but some of us have a taste for all of life. our years here are so brief." as she stood beside him, she became conscious again of the short- barreled flintlock--borrowed from winston's sea chest, without his knowing it--she had secreted in the waist of her petticoat, just below her low-cut bodice. now it seemed so foolish. why had hugh painted jacques as erratic and dangerous? could it be because the old _boucanier_ had managed to better him in that pistol duel they once had, and he'd never quite lived it down? maybe that was why he never seemed to get around to explaining what really happened that time. "then perhaps you'll tell me how many of those years you spent hunting." she abruptly turned and gestured toward the hazy shoreline across the bay. seen through the smoke of the _boucan_ below, hispaniola's forests seemed endless, impenetrable. "over there, on the big island?" "ah, mademoiselle, thinking back now it seems like forever. perhaps it was almost that long." he laughed genially, then glanced toward winston, standing at the other end of the platform, and called out, "anglais, shall we tell your lovely mademoiselle something about the way we lived back in the old days?" "you can tell her anything you please, jacques, just take care it's true." winston was studying the fleet of ships in the bay below. "remember this is our evening for straight talk." "then i will try not to make it sound too romantic." jacques chuckled and turned back. "since the anglais insists i must be precise, i should begin by admitting it was a somewhat difficult existence. mademoiselle. we'd go afield for weeks at a time, usually six or eight of us together in a party--to protect ourselves should we blunder across some of the spaniards' lancers, cavalry who roamed the island trying to be rid of us. in truth, we scarcely knew where we would bed down from one day to the next. . . ." winston was only half listening as he studied the musket-men in the yard below. there seemed to be a restlessness, perhaps even a tension, about them. was it the _boucan_? the bother of the smoke? or was it something more? some treachery in the making? he told himself to stay alert, that this was no time to be lulled by jacques's famed courtliness. it could have been a big mistake not to bring atiba, in spite of jacques's demand he be left. "on most days we would rise at dawn, prime our muskets, then move out to scout for game. usually one of us went ahead with the dogs. before the anglais came to live with us, that perilous assignment normally fell to me, since i had the best aim." he lifted the onion-flask of french brandy from the side of the veranda and replenished her tankard with a smooth flourish. "when you stalk the wild bull, the _taureau sauvage_, you'd best be able to bring him down with the first shot, or hope there's a stout tree nearby to climb." he smiled and thumbed toward winston. "but after the anglais joined us, we soon all agreed he should have the honor of going first with the dogs. we had discovered he was a born marksman." he toasted winston with his tankard. "when the dogs had a wild bull at bay, the anglais would dispatch it with his musket. afterwards, one of our men would stay to butcher it and take the hide while the rest of us would move on, following him." "then what?" she never knew before that winston had actually been the leader of the hunt, their marksman. "well, mademoiselle, after the anglais had bagged a bull for every man, we'd bring all the meat and hides back to the base camp, the rendezvous. then we would put up a _boucan_, like the one down there below us now, and begin smoking the meat while we finished scraping the hides." he smiled through his graying beard. "you would scarcely have recognized the anglais, or me, in those days, mademoiselle. half the time our breeches were so caked with blood they looked like we'd been tarred." he glanced back at the island. "by nightfall the _barbacoa_ would be finished, and we would eat some, then salt the rest and put it away in an _ajoupa_, together with the hides. finally, we'd bed down beside the fire of the _boucan_, to smoke away the mosquitoes, sleeping in those canvas sacks we used to keep off ants. then, at first light of dawn, we rose to go out again." "and then you would sell your . . . _barbacoa_ and hides here on tortuga?" "exactly, mademoiselle. i see my old friend the anglais has already told you something of those days." he smiled and caught her eye. "yes, often as not we'd come back over here and barter with the ships that put in to refit. but then sometimes we'd just sell them over there. when we had a load, we would start watching for a sail, and if we saw a ship nearing the coast, we'd paddle out in our canoes . . ." "canoes?" she felt the night grow chill. suddenly a memory from long ago welled up again, bearded men firing on their ship, her mother falling. . . . "_oui_, mademoiselle. dugout canoes. in truth they're all we had those days. we made them by hollowing out the heart of a tree, burning it away, just like the indians on hispaniola used to do." he sipped his brandy, then motioned toward winston. "they were quite seaworthy, _n 'est-ce pas_? enough so we actually used them on our first raid." he turned back. "though after that we naturally had spanish ships." "and where . . . was your first raid, monsieur le basque?" she felt her grip tighten involuntarily on the pewter handle of her tankard. "did the anglais never tell you about that little episode, mademoiselle?" he laughed sarcastically. "no, perhaps it is not something he chooses to remember. though at the time we thought we could depend on him. i have explained to you that no man among us could shoot as well as he. we wanted him to fire the first shot, as he did when we were hunting. truly we had high hopes for him." jacques drank again, a broad silhouette against the panorama of the sunset. "he told me how you got together to fight the spaniards, but ..." "did he? _bon_." he paused to check the _boucan_ below them, then the men. finally he shrugged and turned back. "it was the start of the legend of the _boucaniers_, mademoiselle. and you can take pride that the anglais was part of it. few men are still alive now to tell that tale." "what happened to the others, jacques?" winston's voice hardened as he moved next to one of the nine-pound cannon. "i seem to remember there were almost thirty of us. guy bartholomew was on that raid, for one. i saw him down below last night. i knew a lot of those men well." "_oui_, you had many friends. but after you . . . left us, a few unfortunate incidents transpired." winston tensed. "did the ship . . .?" "i discovered what can occur when there is not proper organization, anglais. but now i am getting ahead of our story. surely you remember the island we had encamped on. well, we waited on that cursed sand spit several weeks more, hoping there would be another prize. but alas, we saw nothing, _rien_. then finally one day around noon, when it was so hot you could scarcely breathe, we spied a spanish sail--far at sea. by then all our supplies were down. we were desperate. so we launched our canoes and put to sea, with a vow we would seize the ship or perish trying." "and you took it?" winston had set down his tankard on the railing and was listening intently. "_mais oui_. but of course. desperate men rarely fail. later we learned that when the captain saw our canoes approaching he scoffed, saying what could a few dugouts do against his guns. he paid for that misjudgment with his life. we waited till dark, then stormed her. the ship was ours in minutes." "congratulations." "not so quickly, anglais. unfortunately, all did not go smoothly after that. perhaps it's just as well you were no longer with us, _mon ami_. naturally, we threw all the spaniards overboard, crew and passengers. and then we sailed her back here, to basse terre. a three-hundred-ton brigantine. there was some plate aboard--perhaps the capitaine was hoarding it--and considerable coin among the passengers. but when we dropped anchor here, a misunderstanding arose over how it all was to be divided." he sighed. "there were problems. i regret to say it led to bloodshed." "what do you mean?" winston glared at him. "i thought we'd agreed to split all prizes equally." he smiled patiently. "anglais, think about it. how could such a thing be? i was the commander; my position had certain requirements. and to make sure the same question did not arise again, i created articles for us to sail under, giving more to the ship's master. they specify in advance what portion goes to every man, from the maintop to the keel . . . though the commander and officers naturally must receive a larger share. . . ." "and what about now?" winston interrupted. "now that you frenchmen have taken over tortuga? i hear there's a new way to split any prizes the men bring in. which includes you and chevalier de poncy." "oui, conditions have changed slightly. but the men all understand that." "they understand these french culverin up here. _mes compliments_. it must be very profitable for you and him." "but we have much responsibility here." he gestured toward the settlement below them. "i have many men under my authority." "so now that you've taken over this place and become commandant, it's not really like it used to be, when everybody worked for himself. now there's a french administration. and that means extortion, though i suppose you call it taxes." "_naturellement_." he paused to watch as de fontenay walked to the edge of the parapet and glanced up at the mountain behind the fort. "but tonight we were to recall those old, happy days, anglais, before the burden of all this governing descended on my unworthy shoulders. your _jolie_ mademoiselle seems to take such interest in what happened back then." "i'd like to hear about what happened while hugh was on that raid with you. you said he was to fire the first shot." "_oui_." jacques laughed. "and he did indeed pull the first trigger. i was truly sad to part with him at what was to be our moment of glory. but we had differences, i regret to say, that made it necessary . . ." "what do you mean?" she was watching hugh's uneasiness as he glanced around the fort, suspecting he'd probably just as soon this story wasn't told. "we had carefully laid a trap to lure in a ship. mademoiselle. up in the grand caicos, using a fire on the shore." "_where_?" "some islands north of here. where the spaniards stop every year." jacques continued evenly, "and our plan seemed to be working brilliantly. what's more, the anglais here was given the honor of the first bullet." he sipped from his tankard. "but when a prize blundered into it, the affair turned bloody. some of my men were killed, and i seem to recall a woman on the ship. i regret to say the anglais was responsible." "hugh, what . . . did . . . you . . . do?" she heard her tankard drop onto the boards. "to his credit, i will admit he at least helped us bait the hook, mademoiselle." jacques smiled. "did you not, anglais?" "that i did. except it caught an english fish, instead of a spaniard." good christ, no! katherine sucked in her breath. the coldhearted bastard. i am glad i brought a pistol. except it'll not be for jacques le basque. "i think you two had best spare me the rest of your heroic little tale, before i . . ." "but, mademoiselle, the anglais was our finest marksman. he could bring down a wild boar at three hundred paces." he toasted winston with a long draught from his tankard. "don't forget i had trained him well. we wanted him to fire the first shot. you should at least take pride in that, even if the rest does not redound entirely to his credit." "hugh, you'd better tell me the truth. right now." she moved toward him, almost quivering with rage. she felt her hand close about the grip of her pistol as she stood facing winston, his scarred face impassive. "did you fire on the ship?" "mademoiselle, what does it matter now? all that is past, correct?" jacques smiled as he strolled over. "tonight the anglais and i are once more freres de la cote, brothers in the honorable order of boucaniers." he patted winston's shoulder. "that is still true, _n'est-ce pas_? and together we will mount the greatest raid ever--on the spanish island of jamaica." winston was still puzzling over katherine's sudden anger when he finally realized what jacques had said. so, he thought, the old _batard_ wants to give me the men after all. just as i'd figured. now it's time to talk details. "together, jacques. but remember i'm the one who has the pilot, the man who can get us into the harbor. so that means i set the terms." he sipped from his tankard, feeling the brandy burn its way down. "and since you seem to like it here so much, i'll keep the port for myself, and we'll just draw up some of those articles of yours about how we manage the rest." "but of course, anglais. i've already been thinking. perhaps we can handle it this way: you keep whatever you find in the fortress, and my men will take the spoils from the town." "wait a minute. the town's apt to have the most booty, you know that, jacques." "anglais, how can we possibly foretell such a thing in advance? already i am assuming a risk . . ." jacques smiled and turned to look down at the bay. as he moved, the railing he had been standing beside exploded, spewing slivers of mastic wood into the evening air. when he glanced back, startled, a faint pop sounded from the direction of the hill behind the fort. time froze as a look of angry realization spread through the old boucaniers eyes. he checked the iron ladder, still lowered, then yelled for the guards below to light the linstocks for the cannon and ready their muskets. "katy, take cover." winston seized her arm and she felt him pull her against the side of the house, out of sight of the hill above. "maybe commandant le basque is not quite so popular with some of his lads as he seems to think." "i can very well take care of myself. captain. right now i've a mind to kill you both." she wrenched her arm away and moved down the side of the citadel. "katy, what . . .?" as winston stared at her, uncomprehending, another musket ball from the dark above splattered into the post beside jacques. he bellowed a curse, then drew the pistol from his belt and stepped into the protection of the roof. when he did, one of the guards from below, wearing a black hat and jerkin, appeared at the top of the iron ladder leading up from the courtyard. jacques yelled for him to hurry. "damn you, _vite_, there's some fool up the hill with a musket." before he could finish, the man raised a long flintlock pistol and fired. the ball ripped away part of the ornate lace along one side of jacques's collar. almost before the spurt of flame had died away, jacques's own pistol was cocked. he casually took aim and shot the guard squarely in the face. the man slumped across the edge of the opening, then slid backward and out of sight. "anglais." he turned back coolly. "tonight you have just had the privilege of seeing me remind these _cochons_ who controls this island." even as he spoke, the curly head of de fontenay appeared through the opening. when jacques saw him, he beckoned him forward. "come on, and pull it up after you. too many killings will upset my guests' dinner." the young frenchman stepped slowly onto the platform, then slipped his right hand into his ornate doublet and lifted out a pistol. he examined it for a moment before reaching down with his left and extracting another. "i said to pull up the ladder, damn you. that's an order." de fontenay began to back along the railing, all the while staring at jacques with eyes fearful and uncertain. finally he summoned the courage to speak. "you are a _bete_, jacques, truly a beast." his voice trembled, and glistening droplets of sweat had begun to bead on his smooth forehead. "we are going to open purgatory and release the men you have down there. give me the keys, or i will kill you myself, i swear it." "you'd do well to put those guns away, you little _fou_. before i become annoyed." jacques glared at him a moment, then turned toward winston, his voice even. "anglais, kindly pass me one of your pistols. or i will be forced to kill this little _putain_ and all the rest with my own bare hands. i would regret having to soil them." "you'd best settle this yourself, jacques. i keep my pistols. besides, maybe you should open that new dungeon of yours. we never needed anything like that in the old days." "damn you, anglais." his voice hardened. "i said give me a gun." at that moment, another guard from below appeared at the opening. with a curse, jacques stepped over and shoved a heavy boot into his face, sending the startled man sprawling backward. then he seized the iron ladder and drew it up, beyond reach of those below. he ignored de fontenay as he turned back to winston. "are you defying me too, anglais? _bon_. because before this night is over, i have full intention of settling our accounts." "jacques, _mon ami!_" winston laughed. "here all this time i thought we were going to be _freres_ again." he sobered. "though i would prefer going in partners with a commander who can manage his own men." "you mean this little one?" he thumbed at de fontenay. "believe me when i tell you he does not have the courage of--" now de fontenay was raising the pistol in his right hand, shakily. "i said to give us the keys, jacques. you have gone too far." "you will not live that long, my little _matelot_, to order me what to do." jacques feigned a menacing step toward him. startled, de fontenay edged backward, and jacques erupted with laughter, then turned back to winston. "you see, anglais? cowards are all the same. remember when you wanted to kill me? you were point-blank, and you failed. now this little _putain_ has the same idea." he seized winston's jerkin. "give me one of your guns, anglais, or i will take it with my own hands." "no!" at the other end of the citadel katherine stood holding the pistol she had brought. she was gripping it with both hands, rock steady, aimed at them. slowly she moved down the porch. "i'd like to just be rid of you both. which one of you should i kill?" the old boucanier stared at her as she approached, then at winston. "your anglaise has gone mad." "i was on that english ship you two are so proud of attacking." she directed the flintlock toward winston. "hugh, the woman you remember killing--she was my mother." the night flared with the report of a pistol, and jacques flinched in surprise. he glanced down curiously at the splotch of red blossoming against the side of his silk shirt, then looked up at de fontenay. "that was a serious mistake, my little _ami_. one you will not live long enough to regret." the smoking pistol de fontenay held dropped noisily onto the boards at his feet, while he raised the other. "i said give to me the keys, jacques. or i will kill you, i swear it." "you think i can be killed? by you? _jamais_." he laughed, then suddenly reached out and wrenched away the pistol katherine was holding, shoving her aside. with a smile he aimed it directly at de fontenay's chest. "now, mon ami . . ." there was a dead click, then silence. it had misfired. "i don't want this, jacques, truly." de fontenay started to tremble, and abruptly the other pistol he held exploded with a pink arrow of flame. "anglais . . ." jacques jerked lightly, a second splotch of red spreading across his pale shirt. then he dropped to one knee with a curse. de fontenay stepped hesitantly forward. "perhaps now you will understand, _mon maitre_, what kind of man i can be." he watched in disbelief as jacques slowly slumped forward across the boards at his feet. then he edged closer to where the old boucanier lay, reached down and ripped away a ring of heavy keys secured to his belt. he held them a moment in triumph before he looked down again, suddenly incredulous. "_mon dieu_, he is dead." with a cry of remorse he crouched over the lifeless figure and lovingly touched the bloodstained beard. finally he remembered himself and glanced up at winston. "it seems i have finished what you began. he told me today how you two quarreled once. he cared nothing for us, you or me, friend or lover." he hesitated, and his eyes appeared to plead. "what do we do now?" winston was still staring at katherine, his mind flooded with dismay at the anger in her eyes. at last he seemed to hear de fontenay and turned back. "since you've got his keys, you might as well go ahead and throw them down. i assume you mean to open the dungeon." "_oui_. he had begun to lock men there just on his whim. yesterday he even imprisoned a . . . special friend of mine. it was too much." he walked to the edge of the platform and flung the ring of keys down toward the pavement of the fort. as the ring of metal against stone cut through the silence, he yelled out, "purgatory is no more. jacques le basque is in hell." he abruptly turned and shoved down the ladder. in the courtyard below, pandemonium erupted. at once a cannon blazed into the night. then a second, and a third. moments later, jubilant musket fire sounded up from the direction of the settlement as men poured into the streets, torches and lanterns blazing. "good god, katy, i don't know what you've been thinking, but we'd best talk about it later. right now we've got to get out of here." winston walked hesitantly to where she stood. "somebody's apt to get a mind to fire this place." "no, i don't . . ." "katy, come on." he grabbed her arm. de fontenay was still at the railing along the edge of the platform, as though not yet fully comprehending the enormity of his act. below him a string of prisoners, still shackled, was being led from the dungeon beneath the "dovecote." winston forcibly guided katherine down the ladder and onto the stone steps below. now guards had already begun dismantling the _boucan _with the butts of their muskets, sending sparks sailing upward into the night air. then the iron gateway of the fortress burst open and a mob of seamen began pouring through, waving pistols and cheering. finally one of them spotted winston on the steps and pressed through the crowd. "god's blood, is it true?" winston looked down and recognized guy bartholomew. "jacques is dead." "an' they're all claiming you did it. that you came up here and killed the bastard. the very thing we all wanted, and you managed it." he reached up and pumped winston's hand. "maybe now i can stand you a drink. for my money, i say you should be new commandant of this piss- hole, by virtue of ridding the place of him." "i didn't kill him, bartholomew. that 'honor' goes to his _matelot_. " the excited seaman scarcely paused. "'tis no matter, sir. that little whore is nothing. i know one thing; every englishman here'll sail for you, or i'm not a christian." "maybe we can call some of the ships' masters together and see what they want to do." "you can name the time, sir. and i'll tell you this: there're going to be a few changes around here, that i can warrant." he turned to look at the other men, several of whom were offering flasks of brandy to the prisoners. around them, the french guards had remembered jacques's store of liquor and were shoving past, headed up the ladder. in moments they were flinging down flasks of brandy. bartholomew turned and gazed down toward the collection of mast lights below them. "there's scarcely an englishman here who'd not have left that whoreson's service long ago, save there's no place else but tortuga the likes of us can drop anchor. but now with him gone we can . . ." "until further notice, this island is going to be under my administration, as representative of the chevalier de poncy, _gouverneur_ of st. christophe." de fontenay had appeared at the top of the steps and begun to shout over the tumult in the yard. his curls fluttered in the wind as he called for quiet. "by the code of the boucaniers, the telle etoit la coutume de la cote, i am jacques's legal heir. which means i can claim the office of acting commandant de place. . . ." bartholomew yelled up at him. "you can claim whatever you like, you pimp. but no englishman'll sail for you, an' that's a fact. we'll spike these cannon if you're thinking to try any of the old tricks. it's a new day, by all that's holy." "what do you mean?" de fontenay glanced down. "i mean from this day forth we'll sail for whatever master we've a mind to." de fontenay called to winston. "you saw who killed him, monsieur. tell them." he looked back toward bartholomew. "this man knew jacques better than any of you. his friend, the anglais, from the very first days of the _boucaniers_. he will tell you the code makes me . . ." "anglais!" bartholomew stared at winston a moment, then a smile erupted across his hard face. "good god, i do believe it is. you've aged mightily, lad, on my honor. please take no offense i didn't recognize you before." "it's been a long time." "god's blood, none of us ever knew your christian name. we all thought you dead after you and jacques had that little shooting spree." he grasped winston's hand. "do you have any idea how proud we were of you? i tell you we all saw it when you pulled a pistol on that bastard. you may not know it, sir, but it was because of you his band of french rogues didn't rape that english frigate. all the englishmen amongst us wanted to stop it, but we had no chance." he laughed. "in truth, sir, that was the start of all our troubles here. we never got along with the damn'd frenchmen after that. articles or no. "hugh, what's he saying?" katherine was staring at him. "what do you mean?" "is it true you stopped jacques and his men from taking our ship? the one you were talking about tonight?" "the idea was we were only to kill spaniards. no englishman had done anything to us. it wouldn't have been honorable. when jacques didn't agree with me on that point, things got a little unpleasant. that's when somebody started firing on the ship." "aye, the damn'd frenchmen," bartholomew interjected. "i was there, sir." "i'm sorry the rest of us didn't manage to warn you in time." winston slipped his arm around her. suddenly she wanted to smother him in her arms. "but do you realize you must have saved my life? they would have killed us all." "they doubtless would have. eventually." he reached over and kissed her, then drew back and examined her. "katy, i have a confession to make. i think i can still remember watching you. when i was in the longboat, trying to reach the ship. i think i fell in love with you that morning. with that brave girl who stood there at the railing, musket balls flying. i never forgot it, in all the years. my god, to think it was you." he held her against him for a moment, then lifted up her face. "which also means i have you and yours to thank for trying to kill me, when i wanted to get out to where you were." "the captain just assumed you were one of them. i heard him talk about it after. nobody had any idea . . ." she hugged him. "you and your 'honor.' you changed my life." "you and that ship sure as hell changed mine. after i fell in love with you, i damned near died of thirst in that leaky longboat. and then ruyters . . ." "capitaine, please tell them i was the one who shot jacques. that i am now _commandant de place_." de fontenay interrupted, his voice pleading. "that i have the authority to order them . . ." "you're not ordering anything, by jesus. i'm about to put an end to any more french orders here and now." bartholomew seized a burning stick from the fire in the boucan and flung it upward, onto the veranda of the "dovecote." a cheer went up from the english seamen clustered around, and before jacques's french guards could stop them, they were flinging torches and flaming logs up into the citadel. "_messieurs, no_. please! _je vous en prie. non_!" de fontenay stared up in horror. tongues of flame began to lick at the edge of the platform. some of the guards dropped their muskets and yelled to get buckets of water from the spring behind the rock. then they thought better of it and started edging gingerly toward the iron gates leading out of the fortress and down the hill. the other guards who had been rifling the liquor came scurrying down the ladder, jostling de fontenay aside. as winston urged katherine toward the gates, the young _matelot_ was still lingering forlornly on the steps, gazing up at the burning "dovecote." finally, the last to leave forte de la roche, he sadly turned and made his way out. "senhor, what is happening here?" atiba was racing up the steps leading to the gate, carrying his cutlass. "i swam to shore and came fastly as i could." "there's been a little revolution up here, my friend. and i'll tell you something else. there's likely to be some gunpowder in that citadel. for those demi-culverin. i don't have any idea how many kegs he had, but knowing jacques, there was enough." he took katherine's hand. "it's the end for this place, that much you can be sure." "hugh, what about the plan to use his men?" she turned back to look. "we'll just have to see how things here are going to settle out now. maybe it's not over yet." they moved onto the tree-lined pathway. the night air was sharp, fragrant. above the glow of the fire, the moon hung like a lantern in the tropical sky. "you know, i never trusted him for a minute. truly i didn't." she slipped her arm around winston's jerkin. "i realize now he was planning to somehow try and kill us both tonight. thank heaven it's over. why don't we just get out of here while we still can?" "well, sir, it's a new day." guy bartholomew emerged out of the crowd, his smile illuminated by the glow of the blaze. "an' i've been talkin' with some of my lads. why don't we just have done with these damn'd frenchmen and claim this island?" he gleefully rubbed at the stubble on his chin. "no englishman here's goin' to line the pockets of a frenchman ever again, that i'll promise you." "you can try and make tortuga english if you like, but you won't be sailing with me if you do." "what do you mean, sir?" bartholomew stood puzzling. "this is our best chance ever to take hold and keep this place. an' there's precious few other islands where we can headquarter." "i know one that has a better harbor. and a better fortress guarding it" "where might that be?" "ever think of jamaica?" "jamaica, sir?" he glanced up confusedly. "but that belongs to the pox- eaten spaniards." "not after we take it away from them it won't. and when we do, any english privateer who wants can use the harbor there." "now, sir." bartholomew stopped. "tryin' to seize jamaica's another matter entirely. we thought you were the man to help us take charge of this little enterprise here of pillagin' the cursed spaniards' shipping. you didn't say you're plannin' to try stealin' a whole island from the whoresons." "i'm not just planning, my friend." winston moved on ahead, atiba by his side. "god willing, i'm damned sure going to do it." "it's a bold notion, that i'll grant you." he examined winston skeptically, then grinned as he followed after. "god's life, that'd be the biggest prize any englishman in the caribbean ever tried." "i think it can be done." "well, i'll be plain with you, sir. i don't know how many men here'll be willing to risk their hide on such a venture. i hear the spaniards've got a militia over there, maybe a thousand strong. 'tis even said they've got some cavalry." "then all you englishmen here can stay on and sail for the next commandant chevalier de poncy finds to send down and take over. he'll hold la tortue for france, don't you think otherwise. all those commissions didn't stay in jacques's pocket, you can be sure. he's bound to have passed a share up to the frenchmen on st. christopher." "we'll not permit it, sir. we'll not let the frenchmen have it back." "how do you figure on stopping them? this fortress'll take weeks to put into any kind of shape again, and de poncy's sure to post a fleet down the minute he hears of this. i'd say this place'll have no choice but stay french." "aye, i'm beginnin' to get the thrust of your thinkin'." he gazed ruefully back up at the burning fort. "if that should happen, and i grant you there's some likelihood it just might, then there's apt to be damned little future here for a god-fearin' englishman. so either we keep on sailin' for some other french bastard or we find ourselves another harbor." "that's how i read the situation now." winston continued on down the hill. "so why don't we hold a vote amongst the men and see, master bartholomew? maybe a few of them are game to try making a whole new place." jamaica chapter twenty-two a cricket sang from somewhere within the dark crevices of the stone wall surrounding the two men, a sharp, shrill cadence in the night. to the older it was a welcome sign all was well; the younger gave it no heed, as again he bent over and hit his steel against the flint, sending sparks flying into the wind. finally he cursed in spanish and paused to pull his goatskin jerkin closer. hipolito de valera had not expected this roofless hilltop outpost would catch the full force of the breeze that rolled in off the bay. he paused for another gust to die away, then struck the flint once more. a shower of sparks scattered across the small pile of dry grass and twigs by the wall, and then slowly, tentatively the tinder began to glow. when at last it was blazing, he tossed on a large handful of twigs and leaned back to watch. in the uneven glow of the fire his face was soft, with an aquiline nose and dark castilian eyes. he was from the sparsely settled north, where his father don alfonso de valera had planted forty-five acres of grape arbor in the mountains. winemaking was forbidden in the spanish americas, but taxes on spanish wines were high and spain was far away. "_!tenga cuidado!_ the flame must be kept low. it has to be heated slowly." juan jose pereira was, as he had already observed several times previously this night, more knowing of the world. his lined cheeks were leather-dark from a lifetime of riding in the harsh jamaican sun for the cattle-rancher who owned the largest _hato_ on the liguanea plain. perhaps the youngest son of a vineyard owner might understand the best day to pick grapes for the claret, but such a raw youth would know nothing of the correct preparation of chocolate. juan jose monitored the blaze for a time, and then--his hands moving with the deft assurance of the ancient _conquistadores_--carefully retrieved a worn leather bag from his pocket and dropped a brown lump into the brass kettle now hanging above the fire. he next added two green tabasco peppers, followed by a portion of goat's milk from his canteen. finally he stirred in a careful quantity of _muscavado_ sugar- -procured for him informally by his sister's son carlos, who operated the boiling house of a sugar plantation in the guanaboa vale, one of only seven on the island with a horse-drawn mill for crushing the cane. as he watched the thick mixture begin to simmer, he motioned for the younger man to climb back up the stone stairway to the top of their outpost, the _vigia_ overlooking the harbor of jamaica bay. dawn was four hours away, but their vigil for mast lights must be kept, even when there was nothing but the half moon to watch. in truth juan jose did not mind his occasional night of duty for the militia, especially here on the mountain. he liked the stars, the cool air so unlike his sweltering thatched hut on the plain, and the implicit confirmation his eyes were still as keen as they had been the morning he was baptized, over fifty years ago. the aroma of the chocolate swirled up into the watchtower above, and in the moonlight its dusky perfume sent hipolito's thoughts soaring. elvita. wouldn't it be paradise if she were here tonight, instead of a crusty old _vaquero_ like juan jose? he thought again of her almond eyes, which he sometimes caught glancing at him during the mass . . . though always averted with a pretense of modesty when his own look returned their desire. he sat musing over what his father would say when he informed him he was hopelessly in love with elvita de loaisa. undoubtedly don alfonso would immediately point out that her father garcia de loaisa had only twenty acres of lowland cotton in cultivation: what dowry would such a lazy family bring? what to do? just to think about her, while the moon . . . "your chocolate." juan jose was standing beside him holding out a pewter bowl, from which a tiny wisp of steam trailed upward to be captured in the breeze. the old man watched him take it, then, holding his own portion, settled back against the stone bench. "you were gazing at the moon, my son." he crossed himself, then began to sip noisily. "the spot to watch is over there, at the tip of the cayo de carena." now he was pointing south. "any _protestante_ fleet that would attack us must first sail around the point." the old man consumed the rest of his chocolate quickly, then licked the rim of the bowl and laid it aside. its spicy sweetness was good, true enough, one of the joys of the spanish americas, but now he wanted something stronger. unobtrusively he rummaged through the pocket of his coat till he located his flask of pimento brandy. he extracted the cork with his teeth, then pensively drew twice on the bottle before rising to stare out over the stone balustrade. below them on the right lay jamaica bay, placid and empty, with the sandy cay called cayo de carena defining its farthest perimeter. the cay, he had always thought, was where the passage fort really should be. but their governor, don francisco de castilla, claimed there was no money to build a second one. all the same, spreading below him was the finest harbor in the new world--when jamaica had no more than three thousand souls, maybe four, on the whole island. did not even the giant _galeones_, on their way north from cartegena, find it easy to put in here to trade? their arrival was, in fact, always the event of the year, the time when jamaica's hides and pig lard were readied for havana, in exchange for fresh supplies of wine, olive oil, wheat flour, even cloth from home. don fernando, owner of the _hato_, always made certain his hides were cured and bundled for the _galeones_ by late spring. but don fernando's leather business was of scant concern to juan jose. what use had he for white lace from seville? he pulled again at the flask, its brandy sharp and pungent, and let his eyes wander to the green plain on his left, now washed in moonlight. that was the jamaica he cared about, where everything he required could be grown right in the earth. cotton for the women to spin, beef and cassava to eat, wine and cacao and cane-brandy for drinking, tobacco to soothe his soul. . . . he suddenly remembered he had left his pipe in the leather knapsack, down below. but now he would wait a bit. thinking of a pleasure made it even sweeter . . . just as he knew young hipolito was dreaming still of some country senorita. when a young man could not attend to what he was told for longer than a minute, it could only be first love. as he stood musing, his glance fell on caguaya, the passage fort, half a mile to the left, along the rio cobre river that flowed down from villa de la vega. the fort boasted ten great guns, and it was manned by militia day and night. if any strange ship entered the bay, caguaya would be signaled from here at the _vigia_, using two large bells donated by the church, and the fort's cannon would be readied as a precaution. he studied it for a time, pleased it was there. its guns would kill any heretic _luterano_ who came to steal. the pipe. he glanced over at hipolito, now making a show of watching the point at cayo de carena, and briefly entertained sending him down for it. then he decided the climb would be good for his legs, would help him keep his breath--which he needed for his saturday night trysts with margarita, don fernando's head cook. though, mother of god, she had lungs enough for them both. he chuckled to himself and took a last pull on the fiery brandy before collecting the pewter bowls to start down the stairs. "my _pipa_. don't fall asleep gazing at the moon while i'm below." the young man blushed in the dark and busily studied the horizon. juan jose stood watching him for a moment, wondering if he had been that transparent thirty-some years past, then turned and began descending the steps, his boots ringing hard against the stone. the knapsack was at the side wall, near the door, and as he bent over to begin searching for the clay stem of his pipe he caught the movement of a shadow along the stone lintel. suddenly it stopped. "_que pasa?" _ he froze and waited for an answer. silence. now the shadow was motionless. his musket, and hipolito's, were both leaning against the far wall, near the stairs. then he remembered . . . slowly, with infinite care, he slipped open the buckle on the knapsack and felt for his knife, the one with the long blade he used for skinning. his fingers closed about its bone handle, and he carefully drew it from its sheath. he raised up quietly and smoothly, as though stalking a skittish calf, and edged against the wall. the shadow moved again, tentatively, and then a massive black form was outlined against the doorway. _un negro_! whose could it be? there were no more than forty or fifty slaves on the whole of jamaica, brought years ago to work on the plantations. but the cane fields were far away, west of rio minho and inland. the only _negro_ you ever saw this far east was an occasional domestic. perhaps he was a runaway? there was a band of maroons, free _negros_, now living in the mountains. but they kept to themselves. they did not come down onto the plain to steal. the black man stood staring at him. he did not move, merely watched as though completely unafraid. then juan jose saw the glint of a wide blade, a cutlass, in the moonlight. this was no thief. who was he? what could he want? "senor, stop." he raised his knife. "you are not permitted . . ." the _negro_ moved through the doorway, as though not understanding. his blade was rising, slowly. juan jose took a deep breath and lunged. he was floating, enfolded in margarita's soft bosom, while the world turned gradually sideways. then he felt a pain in his knee as it struck against the stone--oddly, that was his first sensation, and he wondered fleetingly if it would still be stiff when he mounted his mare in the morning. next he noticed a dull ache in the side of his neck, not sharp but warm from the blood. he felt the knife slip away, clattering onto the stone paving beyond his reach, and then he saw the moon, clear and crisp, suspended above him in the open sky. next to it hovered hipolito, his frightened eyes gazing down from the head of the stair. the eyes held dark brown for a second, then turned red, then black. "_meu deus_, you have killed him!" a woman's voice pierced the dark. she was speaking in portuguese as she moved through the door behind the tall _negro_. hipolito watched in terrified silence, too afraid even to breathe. behind the _negro_ and the woman were four other men, whispering in ingles, muskets poised. he realized both the guns were still down below, and besides, how could . . . "the whoreson tried to murder me with his damnable knife." the man drew up the cutlass and wiped its blood against the leather coat of juan jose, sprawled at his feet. "we were not to kill unless necessary. those were your orders." the _negro_ motioned for quiet and casually stepped over the body, headed for the stairs. mother of god, no! hipolito drew back, wanting to cry out, to flee. but then he realized he was cornered, like an animal. now the _negro_ was mounting the stairs, still holding the sword, the woman directly behind him. why, he wondered, had a woman come with them. these could not be ordinary thieves; they must be _corsario luterano_, heretic protestant _flibustero_ of the sea. why hadn't he seen their ship? they must have put in at esquebel, the little bay down the western shore, then come up by the trail. it was five miles, a quick climb if you knew the way. but how could they have known the road leading up to the _vigia_? and if these were here, how many more were now readying to attack the fort at caguaya, just to the north? the bells . . .! he backed slowly toward the small tower and felt blindly for the rope. but now the huge figure blotted out the moon as it moved toward him. fearfully he watched the shadow glide across the paving, inching nearer, a stone at a time. then he noticed the wind blowing through his hair, tousling it across his face, and he would have pushed it back save he was unable to move. he could taste his own fear now, like a small copper tlaco in his mouth. the man was raising his sword. where was the rope! mother of god! "_nao_." the woman had seized the _negro's_ arm, was pulling him back. hipolito could almost decipher her portuguese as she continued, "_suficiente_. no more killing." hipolito stepped away from the bell tower. "_senor, por favor_ ..." the man had paused, trying to shake aside the woman. then he said something, like a hard curse. hipolito felt his knees turn to warm butter and he dropped forward, across the stones. he was crying now, his body shivering from the hard, cold paving against his face. "just tie him." the woman's voice came again. "he is only a boy." the man's voice responded, in the strange language, and hipolito thought he could feel the sword against his neck. he had always imagined he would someday die proudly, would honor elvita by his courage, and now here he was, cringing on his belly. they would find him like this. the men in the vineyards would joke he had groveled before the protestant _ladrones_ like a dog. "i will stay and watch him, and this place. leave me two muskets." the woman spoke once more, then called out in ingles. there were more footsteps on the stairs as the other men clambered up. "why damn me, 'tis naught but a lad," a voice said in ingles, "sent to do a man's work." "he's all they'd need to spy us, have no fear. i'll wager 'twould be no great matter to warn the fort. which is what he'll be doin' if we . . . "senor, how do you signal the fort?" the woman was speaking now, in spanish, as she seized hipolito's face and pulled him up. "speak quickly, or i will let them kill you." hipolito gestured vaguely toward the two bells hanging in the tower behind. "take out the clappers, then tie him." the woman's voice came again, now in ingles. "the rest of you ready the lanterns." the dugout canoes had already been launched, bobbing alongside the two frigates anchored on the sea side of the cayo de carena. directly ahead of them lay the point, overlooking the entry to jamaica bay. katherine felt the gold inlay of the musket's barrel, cold and hard against her fingertips, and tried to still her pulse as she peered through the dim moonlight. up the companionway, on the quarterdeck, winston was deep in a final parlay with guy bartholomew of the _swiftsure_. like all the seamen, they kept casting anxious glances toward a spot on the shore across the bay, just below the _vigia_, where the advance party would signal the all-clear with lanterns. the last month had not been an easy time. after the death of jacques le basque, tortuga was plunged into turmoil for a fortnight, with the english and french _boucaniers_ at basse terre quarreling violently over the island's future. there had nearly been war. finally bartholomew and almost a hundred and fifty seamen had elected to join winston in his attempt to seize a new english privateering base at jamaica. but they also demanded the right to hold villa de la vega for ransom, as jackson had done so many years before. it was the dream of riches that appealed to them most, every man suddenly fancying himself a second croesus. finally winston and bartholomew had drawn up articles specifying the division of spoils, in the tradition of the _boucaniers_. after that, two more weeks had passed in final preparations, as muskets and kegs of powder were stockpiled. to have sufficient landing craft they had bartered butts of kill-devil with the cow-killers on hispaniola for ten wide dugout canoes--all over six feet across and able to transport fifteen to twenty men. with the dugouts aboard and lashed securely along the main deck of the two ships, the assault was ready. they set sail as a flurry of rumors from other islands began reaching the buccaneer stronghold. the most disquieting was that a french fleet of armed warships had already been dispatched south by the chevalier de poncy of st. christopher, who intended to restore his dominion over tortuga and appoint a new french _commandant de place_. yet another story, spreading among the spanish planters on hispaniola, was that an english armada had tried to invade the city of santo domingo on the southern coast, but was repulsed ingloriously, with hundreds lost. the story of the french fleet further alarmed the english buccaneers, and almost two dozen more offered to join the jamaica expedition. the spanish tale of a failed assault on santo domingo was quickly dismissed. it was merely another in a long history of excuses put forward by the _audiencia_ of that city to explain its failure to attack tortuga. there would never have been a better time to storm the island, but once again the cowardly spaniards had managed to find a reason for allowing the boucaniers to go unmolested, claiming all their forces were needed to defend the capital. the morning of their departure arrived brisk and clear, and by mid- afternoon they had already made cape nicholao, at the northwest tip of hispaniola. since the windward passage lay just ahead, they shortened sail, holding their course west by southwest till dark, when they elected to heave-to and wait for morning, lest they overshoot. at dawn they were back underway, and just before nightfall, as planned, they had sighted point morant on the eastern tip of jamaica. winston ordered the first stage of the assault to commence. the frigates made way along the southern coast till they neared the point of the cayo de carena, the wide cay at the entry to jamaica bay. then, while the _swiftsure_ kept station to watch for any turtling craft that might sound the alarm, winston hoisted the _defiance's_ new sails and headed on past the point, directly along the coast. the attack plan called for an advance party to proceed overland from the rear and surprise the _vigia_ on the hill overlooking the bay, using a map prepared by their spanish pilot, armando vargas. winston appointed atiba to lead the men; serina went with them as translator. they had gone ashore two hours before midnight, giving them four hours to secure the _vigia_ before the attack was launched. a signal of three lanterns on the shore below the _vigia_ would signify all-clear. after they had disappeared up the trail and into the salt savannah, the _defiance_ rejoined the _swiftsure_, at which time winston ordered the fo'c'sle unlocked and flintlocks distributed, together with bandoliers of powder and shot. while the men checked and primed their muskets, winston ordered extra barrels of powder and shot loaded into the dugouts, along with pikes and half-pikes. now the men stirred impatiently on the decks, new flintlocks glistening in the moonlight, anxious for their first feel of spanish gold. . . . katherine pushed through the crowd and headed up the companionway toward the quarterdeck. winston had just dismissed bartholomew, sending him back to the _swiftsure_ to oversee final assignments of his own men and arms. the old boucanier was still chuckling over something winston had said as she met him on the companionway. "see you take care with that musket now, m'lady." he doffed his dark hat with a wink as he stepped past. "she's apt to go off when you'd least expect." she smiled and nodded, then smoothly drew back the hammer on the breech with an ominous click as she looked up. "then tell me, guy, is this what makes it fire?" "god's blood, m'lady." bartholomew scurried quickly past, then glanced uncertainly over his shoulder as he slid across the bannister and started down the swaying rope ladder, headed for the shallop moored below. "hugh, how long do you expect before the signal?" "it'd best be soon. if not, we won't have time to cross the bay before daylight." he peered through the dark, toward the hill. "we've got to clear the harbor and reach the mouth of the rio cobre while it's still dark, or they'll see us from the passage fort." "how far up the river is the fort?" "vargas claims it's only about a quarter mile." he glanced back toward the hill. "but once we make the river, their cannon won't be able to touch us. it's only when we're exposed crossing the bay that we need worry." "what about the militia there when we try to storm it?" "_vargas_ claims that if they're not expecting trouble, it'll be lightly manned. after we take it, we'll have their cannon, together with the ordnance we've already got. there's nothing else on the island save a few matchlock muskets." "and their cavalry." "all they'll have is lances, or pikes." he slipped his arm around her waist. "no, katy, after we seize passage fort, the spaniards can never get us out of here, from land or sea. jamaica will be ours, because this harbor will belong to us." "you make it sound too easy by half." she leaned against him, wishing she could fully share his confidence. "but if we do manage to take the fort, what about villa de la vega?" "the town'll have to surrender, sooner or later. they'll have no harbor. and this island can't survive without one." she sighed and glanced back toward the shore. in the moonlight the blue mountains of jamaica towered silently above the bay. would those mountains some day stand for freedom in the caribbean, the way tortuga once did . . .? she sensed winston's body tense and glanced up. he was gazing across the bay toward the shore, where a dim light had suddenly appeared. then another, and another. "katy, i've waited a long, long time for this. thinking about it, planning it. all along i always figured i'd be doing it alone. but your being here . . ." he seemed to lose the words as he held her against him. "tonight we're about to do something, together, that'll change the americas forever." the oars bit into the swell and the dark waters of the bay slapped against the bark-covered prow, an ancient cadence he remembered from that long voyage north, ten years past. where had all the years gone? behind him was a line of dugouts, a deadly procession of armed, grim- faced seamen. all men of tortuga, not one among them still welcome in any english, french, or dutch settlement. was it possible to start over with men like these? a new nation? "_mira_," vargas whispered over the rhythm of the oars. his dark eyes were glistening as he pointed toward the entry to the harbor, a wide strait that lay between the point of the cayo de carena and the mainland. around them the light surf sparkled in the moonlight. "is not this _puerto_ the finest in all the caribbean?" he smiled back at winston, showing a row of tobacco-stained teeth. "no storm reaches here. the smallest craft can anchor safely, even in a _huracan_. " "it's just like i figured. so the spot to situate our cannon really is right there on the point. do that and nobody could ever get into the bay." vargas laughed. "si, that is true. if they had guns here, we could never get past. but jamaica is a poor island. the passage fort over on the river has always been able to slow an assault long enough for them to empty the town. then their women and children are safe. what else do they have worth stealing?" "hugh, is this the location you were talking to john about?" katherine was studying the wide and sandy point. "the very place. that's why i had him stay with the _defiance_ and keep some of the lads." "i hope he can do it." "he'll wait till sun-up, till after we take the fort. but this cay is the place to be, mark it." "you are right, senor," vargas continued as they steered on around the point. "i have often wondered myself why there was no port city out here. perhaps it is because this island has nothing but stupid _agricultores_. " their tiny armada of dugouts glided quickly across the strait, then hugged the shore, headed toward the mouth of the rio cobre. now they were directly under the _vigia_. as they rowed past, five figures suddenly emerged from the trees and began wading toward them. winston immediately signaled the dugouts to put in. atiba was grinning as he hoisted himself over the side. "it was simple." he settled among the seamen. "there were only two whoreson spaniards." "where's serina?" katherine scanned the empty shoreline. "did anything happen?" "when a woman is allowed to sit in council with warriors, there are always damnable complications." atiba reached and helped one of the english seamen in. "she would not have us act as men and kill the whoresons both. so she is still up there on the mountain, holding a musket." "you're not a better man if you murder their militia." katherine scowled at him. "after you take a place, you only need hold it." "that is the weak way of a woman, senhora." he glanced toward the hill as again their oars flashed in the moonlight. "it is not the warrior way." winston grimaced, but said nothing, knowing the killing could be far from over. in only minutes they had skirted the bay and were approaching the river mouth. as their dugouts veered into the rio cobre, the whitecaps gave way to placid ripples. the tide had just begun running out, and the surface of the water was flawless, reflecting back the half-moon. now they were surrounded by palms, and beyond, dense forests. since the rainy season was past, the river itself had grown shallow, with wide sand bars to navigate. but a quarter mile farther and they would be beneath the fort. "jamaica, at last." winston grinned and dipped a hand into the cool river. katherine gazed up at the passage fort, now a sharp silhouette in the moonlight. it had turrets at each corner and a wide breastwork, from which a row of eighteen-pound culverin projected, hard fingers against the sky. "i just pray our welcome celebration isn't too well attended." as they rowed slowly up the river, the first traces of dawn were beginning to show in the east. she realized their attack would have to come quickly now. even though the _vigia_ had been silenced, sentries would doubtless be posted around the fort. there still could be a bloody fight with small arms if they were spotted in time for the spaniards to martial the militia inside. let one sentry sound the alarm and all surprise would be lost. "i think we'd best beach somewhere along here." bartholomew was sounding with an oar. the river was growing increasingly sandy and shallow. "she's down to no more'n half a fathom." "besides that, it's starting to get light now." winston nodded concurrence. "much farther and they might spy us. signal the lads behind to put in." "aye." he turned and motioned with his oar. quickly and silently the dugouts veered into the banks and the men began climbing over the sides. as they waded through the mud, each carrying a flintlock musket and a pike, they dragged the dugouts ashore and into the brush. "all right, masters." winston walked down the line as they began to form ranks. "we want to try taking this place without alerting the whole island. if we can do that, then the spaniards'll not have time to evacuate the town. remember anything we take in either place will be divided according to the articles drawn. any man who doesn't share what he finds will be judged by the rest, and may god have mercy on him." he turned and gazed up the hill. there was a single trail leading through the forest. "so look lively, masters. let's make quick work of this." as they headed up the incline, the men carefully holding their bandoliers to prevent rattling, they could clearly see the fort above the trees. now lights began to flicker along the front of the breastwork, torches. next, excited voices began to filter down, faint in the morning air. armando vargas had moved alongside winston, his eyes narrow beneath his helmet and his weathered face grim. he listened a moment longer, then whispered, "i fear something may have gone wrong, senor." "what are they saying?" winston was checking the prime on his pistols. "i think i hear orders to run out the cannon." he paused to listen. "could they have spotted our masts over at the _cayo_? it is getting light now. or perhaps an alert was sounded by the _vigia_ after all." he glared pointedly back toward atiba. "perhaps it was not so secure as we were told." behind them the seamen had begun readying their flintlocks. though they appeared disorganized, they handled their muskets with practiced ease. they were not raw recruits like barbados' militia; these were fighting men with long experience. they continued quickly and silently up the path. now the moon had begun to grow pale with the approach of day, and as they neared the rear of the fortress they could see the details of its stonework. the outside walls were only slightly higher than a man's head, easy enough to scale with grapples if need be. as they emerged at the edge of the clearing, winston suddenly realized that the heavy wooden door at the rear of the fort was already ajar. good christ, we can just walk in. he turned and signaled for the men to group. "it's time, masters. vargas thinks they may have spotted our masts, over at the point, and started to ready the guns." his voice was just above a whisper. "in any case, we'll need to move fast. i'll lead, with my lads. after we're inside, the rest of you hit it with a second wave. we'll rush the sentries, then take any guards. after that we'll attend to the gunners, who like as not won't be armed." suddenly more shouts from inside the fort drifted across the clearing. vargas motioned for quiet, then glanced at winston. "i hear one of them saying that they must send for the cavalry." "why?" he paused. "i don't know what is happening, but they are very frightened in there, senor." "good god, if they get word back to the town, it's the end of any booty." "hugh, i don't like this." katherine stared toward the fortress. there were no guards to be seen, no sentries. everyone was inside, shouting. "maybe it's some kind of ruse. something has gone terribly wrong." "to tell the truth, i don't like it either." he cocked his pistol and motioned the men forward. "let's take it, masters." some fifty yards separated them from the open door as they began their dash forward across the clearing. now they could hear the sound of cannon trucks rolling over paving stone as the guns were being set. only a few more feet remained. would the door stay open? why had there been no musket fire? as winston bounded up the stone steps leading to the door, hewn oak with iron brackets, still no alarm rose up, only shouts from the direction of the cannon at the front of the breastwork. he seized the handle and heaved it wide, then waved the others after him. atiba was already at his side, cutlass drawn. now they were racing down the dark stone corridor, a gothic arch above their heads, its racks of muskets untouched. my god, he thought, they're not even going to be armed. only a few feet more . . . a deafening explosion sounded from the front, then a second and a third. black smoke boiled up as a yell arose from the direction of the cannon. the guns of the fort had been fired. when they emerged at the end of the corridor and into the smoky yard, spanish militiamen were already rolling back the ordnance to reload. the gunners froze and looked on dumbfounded. "!ingles demonio!" one of them suddenly found his voice and yelled out, then threw himself face down on the paving stones. one after another, all the others followed. in moments only one man remained standing, a tall officer in a silver helmet. winston realized he must be the gunnery commander. he drew his sword, a long toledo-steel blade, and stood defiantly facing winston and the line of musketmen. "no." winston waved his pistol. "it's no use." the commander paused, then stepped back and cursed his prostrate militiamen. finally, with a look of infinite humiliation, he slowly slipped the sword back into its scabbard. a cheer went up from the seamen, and several turned to head for the inner chambers of the fortress, to start the search for booty. now the second wave of the attack force was pouring through the corridor. "katy, it's over." winston beckoned her to him and and boxed ceremoniously. "jamaica is . . ." the yard erupted as the copestone of the turret at the corner exploded, raining chips of hard limestone around them. "great god, we're taking fire from down below." he stood a moment in disbelief. around him startled seamen began to scurry for cover. even as he spoke, another round of cannon shot slammed into the front of the breastwork, shaking the flagstone under their feet. "who the hell's in charge down there? there were no orders to fire on the fort ..." another round of cannon shot crashed into the stone facing above them. "masters, take cover. there'll be hell to pay for this, i promise you." he suddenly recalled that mewes had been left in command down below. "if john's ordered the ships into the bay and opened fire, i'll skin him alive." "aye, and with this commotion, i'll wager their damned cavalry lancers will be on their way soon enough to give us a welcome." bartholomew was standing alongside him. "i'd say we'd best secure that door back there and make ready to stand them off." "order it done." winston moved past the gunners and headed toward the front of the breastwork, katherine at his side. as they approached the spanish commander, he backed away, then bowed nervously and addressed them in broken english. "you may receive my sword, senor, in return for the lives of my men. i am capitan juan vicente de padilla, and i offer you unconditional surrender. please run up your flag and signal your gunships." "we've got no flag." winston stared at him. "yet. but we will soon enough." "what do you mean, _mi capitan_? you are ingles." his dark eyes acquired a puzzled expression. "of course you have a flag. it is the one on your ships, down in the bay." "hugh, what's he talking about? has john run up english colors?" katherine strode quickly past the smoking cannon to the edge of the breastwork and leaned over the side. below, the bay was lightening in the early dawn. she stood a moment, then turned back and motioned winston to join her. her face was in shock. he shoved his pistol into his belt and walked to her side. headed across the bay, guns run out, was a long line of warships. nearest the shore, and already launching longboats of roundhead infantry, were the _rainbowe_ and the _marsten moor_--the red and white cross of st. george fluttering from their mizzenmasts. chapter twenty-three "heaven help us. to think the lord protector's proud western design has been reduced to assaulting this worthless backwater." edmond calvert's voice trailed off gloomily as he examined the blue-green mountains of jamaica. then he turned to face colonel richard morris, standing beside him on the quarterdeck. "no silver mines, no plantations, doubtless nothing save wild hogs and crocodiles." "well, sir, at least this time the navy has landed my men where we'd planned." morris was studying the passage fort that loomed above them. amidships, moored longboats were being loaded with helmeted infantry, muskets at the ready. "their culverin seem to have quieted. if the town's no better defended, there should be scant difficulty making this place ours." "that, sir, was precisely what you were saying when we first sighted santo domingo, scarcely more than a fortnight past--before those craven stalwarts you'd call an army were chased back into the sea." morris' eyes narrowed. "when the accounting for hispaniola is finish'd, sir, that debacle will be credited to the incompetence of the english navy." "all the same, you'd best take your stouthearted band of cowards and see what you can manage here." calvert dismissed the commander with a perfunctory salute. rancor no longer served any end; what was lost was lost. what had been forfeited, he knew, was england's best chance ever to seize a portion of spain's vast new world wealth. oliver cromwell's ambitious western design had foundered hopelessly on the sun-scorched shores of hispaniola. he reflected again on the confident instructions in his secret commission, authorized by the lord protector himself and approved by his new council of state only four months earlier. _"the western design of his highness is intended to gain for england that part of the west indies now in the possession of the spaniard, for the effecting thereof we shall communicate to you what hath been under our consideration. your first objective is to seize certain of the spaniards' islands, and particularly hispaniola. said island hath no considerable place in the south part thereof but the city of santo domingo, and that not being heavily fortified may doubtless be possest without much difficulty, which being done, that whole island will be brought under obedience. from thence, after your landing there, send force for the taking of havana, which lies in the island of cuba, which is the back door of the west indies, and will obstruct the passing of the spaniards' plate fleet into europe. having secured these islands, proceed immediately to cartegena, which we would make the seat of the intended design, and from which england will be master of the spaniards' treasure which comes from peru by the way of panama in the south seas to porto bello or nombre de dios in the north sea . . ." _ how presumptuous it all seemed from this vantage. worse still, the council of state had not even bothered taking notice of jamaica, an under-defended wilderness now their only chance to seize _anything_ held by the spaniards. most depressing of all, cromwell would surely be loath to spend a shilling on the men and arms needed to hold such a dubious prize. meaning the spaniards would simply come and reclaim it the minute the fleet set sail. surely, he told himself, cromwell was aware they had shipped out without nearly enough trained men to attack spanish holdings. even his council of state realized as much. but they had nourished the delusion that, once barbados was bludgeoned back into the commonwealth, its planters would dutifully offer up whatever first-rate men, arms, and cavalry were needed for the campaign. what the council of state had not conceived was how indifferent those islanders would be to the territorial ambitions of oliver cromwell. barbados' planters, it turned out, wanted nothing to do with a conquest of the spanish americas; to them, more english-held lands in the new world only meant the likelihood of more acres planted in sugar one day, to compete with the trade they hoped to monopolize. consequently, morris' barbados recruits consisted almost wholly of runaway indentures eluding their owners and their creditors, a collection of profane, debauched rogues whose only boldness lay in doing mischief. sugar and slaves. they might well have undermined barbados' brief try for independence; but they also meant there would be no more english lands in the americas. calvert's heart grew heavy as he remembered how their careful strategy for taking hispaniola had been wrecked. they had decided to avoid the uncharted harbor of santo domingo and land five miles down the coast. but by a mischance of wind on their stern, it was thirty. then morris had disembarked his troops with scarcely any water or victuals. all the first day, however, he had marched unopposed, his puritan infantrymen even pausing to vandalize papist churches along the way, using idols of the virgin for musket practice. the spaniards, however, had a plan of their own. they had been busy burning all the savannahs farther ahead to drive away the cattle, leaving a path of scorched ground. soon morris' supplies were exhausted and hunger began to set in; whereupon his infantry started stealing the horses of the cavalry, roasting and devouring them so ravenously the spaniards reportedly thought horsemeat must be some kind of english delicacy. then came another catastrophe. for sport, the army burned some thatched huts belonging to hispaniola's notorious cow-killers. soon a gang of vengeful hunters had massed in the woods along the army's path and begun sniping with their long-barrelled muskets. after that, whenever fireflies appeared in the evenings, the english sentries, never before having seen such creatures, mistook them for the burning matchcord of the cow-killers' muskets and began firing into the night, causing general panic and men trampled to death in flight. also, the rattling claws of the night-foraging caribbean land crabs would sound to the nervous english infantry like the clank of the cow-killers' bandoliers. an alarm would raise--"the cow-killers"--and soldiers would run blindly into the forests and deadly swamps trying to flee. when they finally reached santo domingo, morris and his demoralized men gamely tried to rush and scale the walls, whereupon the spaniards simply fired down with cannon and slew hundreds. driven back, morris claimed his retreat was merely "tactical." but when he tried again, the spanish cavalry rode out and lanced countless more in a general rout, only turning back when they tired of killing. it was the most humiliating defeat any english army had ever received--suffered at the hands of the supposedly craven spaniards, and the wandering cow- killers, of hispaniola. back at sea, they realized the foolhardiness of an attempt on havana or cartegena, so the choice they were confronted with was to return to england empty-handed and face cromwell's outrage, or perhaps try some easier spanish prize. that was when they hit on the idea of jamaica-- admittedly a smaller island than hispaniola and of scant consequence to spain, but a place known for its slight defenses. they immediately weighed anchor and made sail for jamaica bay. . . . "well, sir, i take it the shooting's over for now. mayhaps this time your rabble army will see fit to stand and fight like englishmen." edging his way cautiously up the smoky companionway, in black hat and cotton doublet, was one of the few barbados planters who had offered to join the expedition. he glanced at the sunlit fortress, then stared at the green hills beyond. "though from the looks of the place, i'd judge it's scarcely worth the waste of a round of shot. 'twould seem to be damn'd near as wild as barbados the day i first set foot on her." "i think colonel morris knows his duty, sir." calvert's tone grew official. "and i presume some of this land could readily be put into cultivation." why, calvert puzzled, had the planter come? he'd not offered to assist the infantry. no, most probably he volunteered in hopes of commandeering the choicest spanish plantations on hispaniola all for himself. or perhaps he merely couldn't countenance the thought he'd been denied a seat on barbados' new council. yes, that was more likely the case. why else would a sugar grower as notoriously successful as benjamin briggs have decided to come with them? "cultivation!" briggs turned on him. "i see you know little enough about running a plantation, sir. where's the labor you'd need?" "perhaps some of these infantry will choose to stay and settle. with the spaniards all about, this island's going to require . . ." "this set of layabouts? i doubt one in a hundred could tell a cassava root from a yam, assuming he had the industry to hoe one up." briggs moved to the railing and surveyed the wide plain spreading up from the harbor. "this batch'd not be worth tuppence the dozen for clearing stumps and planting." . . . but, he found himself thinking, maybe things would be different if you went about it properly. and brought in some africans. enough strapping blacks and some of these savannahs might well be set to production. and if not along here, then maybe upland. the hills look as green as barbados was thirty years ago. could it be i was wise to come after all? damn hispaniola. this place could be the ideal spot to prove what i've always believed. aye, he told himself. barbados showed there's a fortune to be made with sugar. but what's really called for is land, lots of it; and half the good plots there're still held by damn'd ten-acre freeholders. the new world is the place where a man has to think in larger terms. so what if i sold off those barbados acres, packed up the sugar mill and brought it here, cut a deal with the dutchmen for a string of quality nigers on long credit . . .? all we need do is send these few spaniards packing, and this island could well be a gold mine. "if you'll pardon me, mister briggs, i'll have to be going ashore now." calvert nodded, then turned for the companionway. "as you will, sir." briggs glanced back at the island. "and if it's all the same, i think i'll be joining you. to take the measure of this fish we've snagged and see what we've got." "you might do better to wait, mister briggs, till we've gained a clear surrender from the spaniards." "well, sir, i don't see any spaniards lurking about there on the plain." he headed down the companionway after calvert. "i'm the civilian here, which means i've got responsibilities of my own." "hugh, are we going to just stand here and let these bastards rob us?" katherine was angrily gripping her musket. "we took this fort, not morris and his roundheads." winston stood staring at the warships, his mind churning. why the hell were they here? cromwell had better things to do with his navy than harass a few spanish planters. whatever they want, he vowed to himself, they'll damn well have to fight for it. "'tis the most cursed sight i e'er laid eyes on." guy bartholomew had moved beside them. "mayhaps that rumor about some fleet trying santo domingo was all too true. an' when they fail'd at that, they decided to pillage jamaica instead." next to him was timothy farrell, spouting irish oaths down on the ships. "aye, by the holy virgin, but whatever happen'd, i'll wager you this--it's the last we're like to see of any ransom for the town." his eyes were desolate. "the damn'd english'll be havin' it all. they've never heard of dividing a thing fair and square, that i promise you." "well, they can't squeeze a town that's empty." winston turned to bartholomew. "so why don't we start by giving this navy a little token of our thanks. set these spaniards free to go back and help clear out villa de la vega. by the time the damn'd roundheads get there, there'll be nothing to find save empty huts." "well, sir, it's a thought, i'll grant you. else we could try and get over there first ourselves, to see if there's any gold left to be had. these spaniards' romanish churches are usually good for a few trinkets." the _boucanier_ looked down again. a line of longboats was now edging across the bay below, headed for the shore beneath the fort. he glanced back at his men. "what say you, lads?" "there's no point to it, cap'n, as i'm a christian." one of the grizzled _boucaniers_ behind him spoke up. "there're lads here aplenty who've sailed for the english navy in their time, an' i'm one of 'em. you can be sure we'd never get past those frigates with any spanish gold. all we'd get is a rope if we tried riflin' the town now, or holdin' it for ransom. when an honest tar borrows a brass watch fob, he's hang'd for theft; when the generals steal a whole country, it's called the spoils of war. no sir, i've had all the acquaintance i expect to with so-called english law. i warrant the best thing we can do now is try getting out of here whilst we can, and let the whoresons have what they came to find. we took this place once, by god, and we can well do it again." there was a murmur of concurrence from the others. some experienced seamen were already eyeing the stone corridor, reflecting on the english navy's frequent practice of impressing any able-bodied man within reach whenever it needed replacements. "well, sir, there's some merit in what you say." bartholomew nodded thoughtfully. "maybe the wisest course right now is to try and get some canvas on our brigs before this navy starts to nose about our anchorage over at the other side of the _cayo_. "that's the best, make nae mistake." the scotsman macewen interjected nervously. "an' if these spaniards care to trouble keeping the damn'd roundheads entertained whilst we're doin' it, then i'd gladly hand them back every gunner here, with a skein of matchcord in the trade. whatever's in the town can be damn'd." "then it's done." winston motioned for the spanish commander. captain juan vicente de padilla advanced hesitantly, renewed alarm in his dark eyes. "do you wish to receive my sword now, capitan?" "no, you can keep it, and get the hell out of here. go on back to villa de la vega and let your governor know the english navy's invaded." "capitan, i do not understand your meaning." he stood puzzling. "your speech is ingles, but you are not part of those _galeones_ down below?" "we're not english. and i can promise you this island hasn't heard the last of us." winston thumbed toward the corridor. "now you'd best be out of here. i don't know how long those roundheads expect to tarry." with a bow of supreme relief, captain de padilla turned and summoned his men. in moments the spanish gunners were jostling toward the corridor, each wanting to be the first to evacuate his family and wealth from villa de la vega. "in god's name, hugh, don't tell me you're thinking to just hand over this fort!" katherine was still watching the shore below, where infantrymen were now forming ranks to begin marching up the slope. "i, for one, intend to stand and fight as long as there's powder and shot." "don't worry, we've got the heavy guns. and their damned warships are under them." he signaled to tom canninge, master gunner of the _defiance_. "have the boys prime and run out these culverin. we need to be ready." "good as done." canninge shouted an order, and his men hurriedly began hauling the tackles left lying on the stone pavement by the spanish gunners, rolling back the iron cannon to reload. by now the infantry had begun advancing up the hill. winston watched them long enough through the sparse trees to recognize richard morris at their head. so we meet again, you roundhead bastard. but this time _i_ start out holding the ordnance. "masters, cover us with your muskets." he motioned for katherine and together they started for the corridor. the hallway had grown lighter now, a pale gold in the early light of dawn. at the far end the heavy oak door had been left ajar by the departing spanish gunners. as they stepped into the sunshine, atiba suddenly appeared beside them, concern on his face. "senhor, i think it is no longer safe at the damnable _vigia_ on the hill. i must go back up there now." "all right." winston waved him on. "but see you're quick on it." "i am a man of the mountains. when i wish, i can travel faster than a spaniard with a horse." he began to sprint across the clearing, headed for the trees. "katy, hang on to this." winston drew one of the pistols from his belt and handed it to her. "we'll talk first, but if we have to shoot, the main thing is to bring down morris. that ought to scatter them." as they rounded the corner of the fort. colonel richard morris emerged through the trees opposite, leading a column of infantry. the commander froze when he saw them. he was raising his musket, preparing to give order to fire, when his face softened into a disbelieving grin. "god's blood. nobody told me you'd decided to join up with this assault." he examined them a moment longer, then glanced up at the breastwork, where a line of seamen had appeared, holding flintlocks. he stared a moment in confusion before looking back at winston. "i suppose congratulations are in order. we had no idea 'twas you and your men who'd silenced their guns. you've doubtless saved us a hot ordnance battle. bloody fine job, i must say." he lowered his musket and strode warily forward. "what have you done with all the spaniards?" "they're gone now." winston's hand was on the pistol in his belt. "then the place is ours!" morris turned and motioned the infantrymen forward. "damned odd i didn't notice your . . . frigate in amongst our sail. we could've used you at hispaniola." he tried to smile. "i'd say, sir, that an extra month's pay for you and your lads is in order, even though i take it you joined us late. i'll see to it myself." "you can save your eighteen shillings. colonel. we plan to hold this fort, and maybe the island to go with it. but you're free to rifle the town if you think you can still find anything." "you plan to hold what, sir?" morris took a cautious step backward. "where you're standing. it's called jamaica. we got here first and we intend to keep however much of it strikes our fancy." "well, sir, that's most irregular. i see you've still got all the brass i recall." he gripped the barrel of his musket. "i've already offered you a bonus for exceptional valor. but if you're thinking now to try and rebel against my command here, what you're more likely to earn is a rope around your neck." winston turned and yelled up to canninge. "tom, ready the guns and when i give the order, lay a few rounds across the quarterdeck of the _rainbowe_ anchored down there. maybe it'll encourage colonel morris to reexamine the situation." "good god!" morris paled. "is this some kind of jest?" "you can take whatever you want from the spaniards. but this harbor's mine. that is, if you'd prefer keeping cromwell's flagship afloat." "this harbor?" "that's right. we're keeping the harbor. and this fortress, till such time as we come to an understanding." while morris stared up again at the row of cannon, behind him the last contingent of infantry began to emerge through the trees. leading it was admiral edmond calvert, and beside him strode a heavyset man in a wide, dark hat. they moved through the row of silver-helmeted infantrymen, who parted deferentially for the admiral, headed toward morris. they were halfway across the clearing before benjamin briggs noticed katherine and winston. "what in the name of hell!" he stopped abruptly. "have the both of you come back to be hanged like you merit?" "i'd take care what you say, master briggs." winston looked down the slope. "my lads up there might mistake your good humor." briggs glanced up uncertainly at the breastwork, then back. "i'd like to know what lawless undertaking it is brings you two to this forsaken place?" "you might try answering the same question." "i'm here to look to english interests." "i assume that means your personal interests. so we're probably here for much the same reason." "i take it you two gentlemen are previously acquainted." calvert moved cautiously forward. "whatever your past cordiality, there'll be ample time to manage the disposition of this place after it's ours. we're dividing the skin before we've caught the fox. besides, it's the lord protector who'll . . ." there was a shout from the breastwork above, and calvert paused to look up. tom canninge was standing beside one of the grey iron culverin, waving down at winston. "cap'n, there's a mass of horsemen coming up the road from the town." "are they looking to counterattack?" the gunner paused and studied the road. "from here i'd say not. they're travelin' slow, more just walkin' their mounts. an' there're a few blacks with them, who look to be carry in' some kind of hammock." now morris was gazing warily down the road toward villa de la vega. he consulted briefly with calvert, then ordered his men to take cover in the scattering of trees across the clearing. coming toward them was a row of spanish horsemen, with long lances and silver-trimmed saddles, their mounts prancing deferentially behind a slow-moving cluster of men, all attired in the latest seville finery. in the lead was an open litter, shaded from the sun by a velvet awning, with the poles at each of its four corners held shoulder high by an aged negro wearing a blue silk loincloth. katherine heard a rustle at her elbow and turned to see the admiral bowing. "edmond calvert, madam, your servant." he quickly glanced again at the spanish before continuing. "colonel morris just advised me you are dalby bedford's daughter. please allow me to offer my condolences." she nodded lightly and said nothing, merely tightening her grip on the pistol she held. calvert examined her a moment, then addressed winston. "and i'm told that you, sir, were gunnery commander for barbados." winston inspected him in silence. calvert cleared his throat. "well, sir, if that's indeed who you are, i most certainly have cause to know you for a first-rate seaman. i take it you somehow managed to outsail the gloucester." he continued guardedly. "you were a wanted man then, but after what's happened today, i think allowances can be made. in truth, i'd like to offer you a commission here and now if you'd care to serve under me." "accept my thanks, but i'm not looking for recruitment." winston nodded, then turned back to study the approaching cavalry. "the 'commission' i plan to take is right here. and that's the two of us. miss bedford and i expect to make jamaica home base." calvert smiled as he continued. "well, sir, if you're thinking now you want to stay, there'll surely be a place for you here. i'll take odds the spaniards are not going to let us commandeer this island without soon posting a fleet to try and recover it. which means we've got to look to some defenses right away, possibly move a few of the culverin from the _rainbowe_ and _marsten moor_ up here to the breastwork. there's plenty to . . ." "what are you saying!" katherine stared at him. "that you're going to try and hold jamaica?" "for england." he sobered. "i agree with you it'll not be an easy task, madam, but we expect to do our best, i give you my solemn word. yes, indeed. and if you and the men with you care to assist us, i will so recommend it to his highness. i fear we'll be wanting experienced gunners here, and soon." while katherine stood speechless, benjamin briggs edged next to them and whispered toward calvert, "admiral, you don't suppose we'd best look to our defenses, till we've found out what these damn'd spaniards are about?" "this can only be one thing, mister briggs. some kind of attempt to try and negotiate." calvert examined the procession again as it neared the edge of the clearing. "not even spaniards attack from a palanquin." now the approaching file was slowing to a halt. while the horsemen reined in to wait in the sunshine, one of the men who had been walking alongside the litter began to converse solemnly with a shadowed figure beneath its awning. finally he reached in and received a long silk- wrapped bundle, then stepped around the bearers and headed toward them. he was wearing a velvet waistcoat and plumed hat, and as he approached the four figures standing by the breastwork, he appeared momentarily disoriented. his olive skin looked sallow in the early light and his heavy moustache drooped. finally he stopped a few feet away and addressed them collectively. "i am antonio de medina, lieutenant-general to our governor, don francisco de castilla, who has come to meet you. he regrets that his indisposition does not permit him to tender you his sword from his own hand." he paused and glanced back at the litter. an arm emerged feebly and waved him on. "his excellency has been fully advised of the situation, and he is here personally to enquire your business. if it is ransom you wish to claim, he would have me remind you we are but a poor people, possessing little wealth save our honesty and good name." "i am admiral edmond calvert, and i receive his greeting in the name of england's lord protector." calvert was studying the shrouded litter with puzzlement. "furthermore, you may advise don francisco de castilla that we've not come for ransom. we're here to claim this island in the name of his highness oliver cromwell. for england." "senor, i do not understand." medina's brow wrinkled. "ingles _galeones_ such as yours have come in times past, and we have always raised the ransom they required, no matter how difficult for us. we will . . ." "this time, sir, it's going to be a different arrangement." briggs stepped forward. "he's telling you we're here to stay. pass that along to your governor." "but you cannot just claim this island, senor." medina examined briggs with disbelief. "it has belonged to spain for a hundred and forty years." "where's your bill of sale, by god? we say it belongs to whoever's got the brass to seize hold of it. spaniards took half the americas from the heathen; now it's england's turn." "but this island was granted to our king by his holiness the pope, in rome." "aye, your pope's ever been free to dispense lands he never owned in the first place." briggs smiled broadly. "i seem to recall back in king harry's time he offered england to anybody who'd invade us, but none of your papist kings troubled to take up his gift." he sobered. "this island's english, as of today, and damned to your purple whore of rome." "senor, protestante blasphemies will not . . ." "take care, master briggs." winston's voice cut between them. "don't be so quick to assume england has it. at the moment it looks like this fortress belongs to me and my men." "well, sir, if you're thinking to try and steal something from this place, which now belongs to england, i'd be pleased to hear how you expect to manage it." "i don't care to steal a thing. i've already got what i want. while we've been talking, my lads down on the _defiance_ were off-loading culverin there at the cayo de carena. on the point. as of now, any bottom that tries to enter, or leave, this harbor is going to have to sail under them. so the harbor's mine, including what's in it at the moment. not to mention this fort as well." "perhaps you'd best tell me what you have in mind, sir." calvert glanced up at the breastwork, its iron cannon now all directed on the anchored ships below. "we might consider an arrangement." winston paused, then looked down at the bay. "what do you mean?" "these men sailing with me are _boucaniers_, cow-killers to you, and we need this harbor. in future, we intend sailing from jamaica, from right over there, at the point. there'll be a freeport there, for anybody who wants to join with us." "are you saying you mean to settle down there on the point, with these buccaneers?" calvert was trying to comprehend what he was hearing. could it be that, along with jamaica, cromwell was going to get armed ships, manned by the only men in the caribbean feared by the spaniards, for nothing? perhaps it might even mean jamaica could be kept. the western design might end up with something after all . . . "well, sir, in truth, this island's going to be needing all the fighting men it can muster if it's to defend itself from the spaniards." calvert turned to briggs. "if these buccaneers of his want to headquarter here, it could well be a godsend." "you'd countenance turning over the safety of this place to a band of rogues?" briggs' face began to grow dark with a realization. "hold a minute, sir. are you meanin' to suggest cromwell won't trouble providing this island with naval protection?" "his highness will doubtless act in what he considers to be england's best interest, mister briggs, but i fear he'll not be too anxious to expend revenues fortifying and patrolling an empty spanish island. i wouldn't expect to see the english navy around here, if that's what you're thinking." "but this island's got to have defenses. it's not the same as barbados. over there we were hundreds of leagues to windward. and the spaniards never cared about it in the first place. but jamaica's different. it's right on the windward passage. you've got to keep an armed fleet and some fortifications here or the spaniards'll just come and take the place back whenever they have a mind." "then you'd best start thinking about how you'd plan to arrange for it." calvert turned back to medina. "kindly advise his excellency i wish to speak with him directly." the lieutenant-general bowed and nervously returned to the litter. after consulting inside for a moment, he ordered the bearers to move it forward. what they saw was a small, shriveled man, bald and all but consumed with venereal pox. he carefully shaded his yellow eyes from the morning sun as he peered out. "as i have said, excellency, we are pleased to acknowledge your welcome," calvert addressed him. "for the time we will abstain from sacking villa de la vega, in return for which courtesy you will immediately supply our fleet with three hundred head of fat cattle for feeding our men, together with cassava bread and other comestibles as we may require." after a quick exchange, medina looked back, troubled. "his excellency replies he has no choice but to comply." "fine. but i'm not quite finished. be it also known without any mistaking that we have hereby taken charge of the island of jamaica. i expect to send you the terms to sign tomorrow morning, officially surrendering it to england." winston stepped forward and faced medina. "you can also advise his excellency there'll be another item in the terms. those slaves standing there, and all others on the island, are going to be made free men." "senor, all the negros on this island have already been set free, by his excellency's proclamation this very morning. to help us resist. do you think we are fools? our negros are _catolico_. they and our maroons will stand with us if we have to drive you _protestante_ heretics from this island." "maroons?" calvert studied him. "si. that is the name of the free negros who live here, in the mountains." he approached calvert. "and know this, ingles. they are no longer alone. the king of spain will not let you steal this island, and we will not either. even now, our people in villa de la vega have taken all their belongings and left for the mountains also. we will wage war on you from there forever if need be. you may try to steal this island, against the laws of god, but if you do, our people will empty their _hatos_ and drive their cattle into the hills. your army will starve. this island will become your coffin, we promise you." "that remains to be seen, sir." calvert inspected him coldly. "if you don't choose to honor our terms and provide meat for this army, then we'll just take what we please." "then we bid you good day." medina moved back to confer with the governor. after a moment, the bearers hoisted the litter, turned, and headed back down the road, trailed by the prancing horses of the cavalry. calvert watched, unease in his eyes, as they moved out. "in truth, i'm beginning to fear this may turn out to be as bloody as hispaniola. if these spaniards scorn our terms of surrender and take to the hills, it could be years before jamaica is safe for english settlement." behind them the infantrymen had begun to emerge from the woods across the clearing, led by morris. next guy bartholomew appeared around the side of the fortress, his face strained and haggard in the morning light. he watched puzzling as the spanish procession disappeared into the distance, then turned to winston. "what's all the talk been about?" "there's going to be a war here, and soon. and we don't want any part of it. so right now we'd best head back over to the point. that spot's going to be ours, or hell will hear the reason why. john's been off- loading my culverin and he should have the guns in place by now. we don't need these cannon any more. get your lads and let's be gone." "i'd just as soon be out of here, i'll tell you that. i don't fancy the looks of this, sir, not one bit." with an exhale of relief, bartholomew signaled up to the breastwork, then headed back. "god be praised." as winston waved him on, he spotted atiba approaching across the clearing, serina at his side. the yoruba still had his cutlass at his waist, and serina, her white shift torn and stained from the underbrush, was now carrying a spanish flintlock. when she saw briggs, she hesitated a second, startled, then advanced on him. "my damnd niger!" the planter abruptly recognized them and started to reach for his pistol. "the very one who tried to kill me, then made off with my _mulata_ . . ." serina lifted her musket and cocked it, not missing a step. "leave your gun where it is, master briggs, unless you want me to kill you. he is free now." "he's a damn'd runaway." briggs halted. "and i take it you're in with him now. well, i'll not be having the two of you loose on this island, that much i promise you." serina strode directly to where he stood. "i am free now too." her voice was unwavering. "you can never take me back, if that's what you have come here to do." "we'll damn'd well see about that. i laid out good money for the both . . ." "there are many free _preto_ on this island. to be black here does not mean i have to be slave. it is not like an ingles settlement. i have learned that already. the spaniard at the _vigia_ told me there is a free nation of my people here." atiba had moved beside her, gripping the handle of his cutlass. "i do not know why you have come, whoreson _branco_, but there will be war against you, like there was on barbados, if you ever try to enslave any of my peoples living in this place." "there'll be slaves here and plenty, sirrah. no runaway black is going to tell an englishman how to manage his affairs. aye, there'll be war, you may depend on it, till every runaway is hanged and quartered. and that includes you in particular . . ." he was suddenly interrupted by a barrage of firing from the woods behind them, and with a curse he whirled to stare. from out of the trees a line of spanish militia was emerging, together with a column of blacks, all bearing muskets. they wore tall helmets and knelt in ranks as they methodically began firing on the english infantry. briggs paused a second, then ducked and bolted. "hugh, we've got to get out of here. now." katherine seized his arm and started to pull him into the shelter of the breastwork. shouts rose up, while helmets and breastplates jangled across the clearing as the english infantrymen began to scatter. morris immediately cocked his musket and returned fire, bringing down a spanish musketman, then yelled for his men to find cover. in moments the morning air had grown opaque with dark smoke, as the infantry hurriedly retreated to the trees on the opposite side of the clearing and began piling up makeshift barricades of brush. "senhor, i think the damnable war has already begun," atiba yelled to winston as he followed serina around the corner of the breastwork. "that it has, and i for one don't want any part of it." he looked back. "katy, what do you say we just take our people and get on down to the point? let morris try and fight them over the rest." she laughed, coughing from the smoke. "they can all be damned. i'm not even sure whose side i want to be on anymore." while briggs and calvert huddled with morris behind the barricade being set up by the english infantrymen, the four of them quickly made their way around the side of the fort, out of the shooting. bartholomew was waiting by the oak door, the seamen crowded around. now the fortress was smpty, while a musket battle between the spanish and the english raged across the clearing on its opposite side. "i've told the lads," he shouted above the din. "they're iust as pleased to be out of here, that i'll warrant you, now that we've lost all chance to surprise the town. i'd say we're ready to get back over to the point and see what it is we've managed to come up with." "good." winston motioned them forward. as he led them down the trail, katherine at his side, he felt a tug at his sleeve and turned to see atiba. "i think we will not be going with you, my friend." the yoruba was grim. "dara says if there is to be a war against the ingles _branco_ here, then we must join it. this time i believe a woman's counsel is wise." "you'd get tangled up in this fray?" "it could be a damnable long war, i think. perhaps much years. but i would meet these free people of my blood, these maroons." "but we're going to take the harbor here. you could . . ." "i am not a man of the sea, my friend. my people are of the forest. that is what i know and where i want to be. and that is where i will fight the ingles, as long as i have breath." "well, see you take care. this may get very bad." winston studied him. "we're headed down to the point. you'll always be welcome." "then i wish you fortune. your path may not be easy either. these damnable ingles may try to come and take it away from you." "if they do, then they don't know what a battle is. we're going to make a free place here yet. and mark it, there'll come a day when slaveholders like briggs will be a blot on the name of england and the americas. all anybody will want to remember from these times will be the buccaneers." "that is a fine ambition." he smiled, then glanced down at serina. "i wonder what becomes of this island now, with all of us on it." "i will tell you." she shifted her musket. "we are going to bring these ingles to their knees. someday they will come to us begging." she reached up and kissed katherine, then lightly touched winston's hand. finally she prodded atiba forward, and in moments they were gone, through the trees. "hugh, i'm not at all sure i like this." katherine moved next to him as they continued on down the hill toward the dugouts. bartholomew was ahead of them now, leading the _boucaniers_. "i thought we were going to capture an island. but all we've ended up with is just a piece of it, a harbor, and all these criminals." "katy, what did you once say about thinking you could have it all?" "i said i'd learned better. that sometimes you've got to settle for what's possible." she looked up at him. "but you know i wasn't the only one who had a dream. maybe you wanted a different kind of independence, but you had some pretty grand ideas all the same." "what i wanted was to take jamaica and make it a free place, but after what's happened today nobody's going to get this island for a long, long time." she looked up to see the river coming into view through the trees, a glittering ribbon in the early sun. "then why don't we just make something of what we have, down there on the point? for ourselves." he slipped an arm around her and drew her against him. "shall we give it a try?" * * * * * london report of the council of foreign plantations to the lords of trade of the privy council board concerning the condition of the americas, with recommendations for furtherance of the interests of our merchants. . . . having described barbados, virginia, maryland, and new england, we will now address the condition of jamaica subsequent to the demise of the late (and unlamented) oliver cromwell and the restoration of his royal majesty, charles stuart ii, to the throne of england. unlike barbados, which now has , black slaves and whose lands command three times the price of the most fertile acres in england, the island of jamaica has yet to enjoy prosperous development for sugar. although its production may someday be expected to surpass even that of barbados (by virtue of its greater size), it has ever been vexatious to govern, and certain recommendations intended to ammend this condition are here set forth. it is well remembered that after jamaica was seized from the spaniards, the admiral and infantry commander (who shall not be cruelly named here) were both imprisoned in the tower by oliver cromwell as reward for their malfeasance in the western design. furthermore, the english infantry first garrisoned there soon proved themselves base, slothful rogues, who would neither dig nor plant, and in short time many sought to defect to the spaniards for want of rations. these same spaniards thereafter barbarously scattered their cattle, reducing the english to eating dogs and snakes, whereupon over two-thirds eventually starved and died. the spaniards did then repair to the mountains of that island with their negroes, where together they waged war for many years against all english forces sent against them, before at last retiring to live amongst their fellow papists on cuba. after that time, oliver cromwell made offer of free acres, under the authority of his great seal, to any protestant in england who would travel thither for purposes of settlement, but to scant effect. his appeal to new englanders to come and plant was in like manner scorned. thus for many years jamaica has remained a great thorn in the side of england. even so, we believe that certain possibilities of this island may soon compensate the expense of maintaining it until now. the reason may be taken as follows. it has long been understood that the aspect of our american settlements most profitable to england is the trade they have engendered for our merchants. foremost among the commodities required are laborers for their plantations, a demand we are at last equippd to supply. the royal african company (in which his majesty king charles ii and all the court are fortunate subscribers) has been formed and a string of english slaving fortresses has now been established on the guinea coast. the company has thus far shipped , africans to the americas, of which a full , survived to be marketed, and its most recent yearly dividend to english subscribers was near to %. a prized coin of pure west african gold, appropriately named the guinea, has been authorized by his majesty to commemorate our success in this remunerative new business. now that the assemblies of virginia and maryland happily have passed acts encouraging the usefulness of negro slaves in north america, we may expect this trade to thrive abundantly, in light of the fact that blacks on english plantations do commonly perish more readily than they breed. furthermore, the noblest plantation in the new world could well one day be the island of jamaica, owing to its abundance of fertile acres, if two conditions thwarting its full development can be addressed. the first being a band of escaped blacks and mullatoes, known to the spaniards as maroons, who make bold to inhabit the mountains of said island as a godless, separate nation. having no moral sense, and not respecting the laws and customs of civil nations, they daily grow more insolent and threatening to the christian planters, brazenly exhorting their own blacks to disobedience and revolt. by their endeavors they have prevented many valuable tracts of land from being cultivated, to the great prejudice of his majesty's revenue. all attempts to quell and reduce these blacks (said to live as though still in africa, with their own practices of worship) have availed but little, by virtue of their unassailable redoubts, a condition happily not possible on the small island of barbados. our records reveal that some , pounds sterling have thus far been expended in fruitless efforts to bring them under submission. yet they must be destroyed or brought in on some terms, else they will remain a great discouragement to the settling of a people on the island. it is now concluded that, since all english regiments sent against them have failed to subdue these maroons (who fall upon and kill any who go near their mountain strongholds), efforts must be attempted in another direction. accordingly we would instruct the governor of the island, sir benjamin briggs, to offer terms of treaty to their leader, a heathenish black reported to be called by the name etiba, whereby each nation may henceforth exist in harmony. the other condition subverting full english control of the island is the town that thrives at the entrance to jamaica bay, a place called cayo de carena by the spaniards and now known, in honor of the restoration of his majesty, as port royal. said port scarcely upholds its name, being beholden to none save whom it will. it is home to those rovers of the sea calling themselves buccaneers, a willful breed of men formerly of tortuga, who are without religion or loyalty. travelling whither they choose, they daily wreak depredations upon the shipping of the spaniard (taking pieces-of-eight in the tens of millions) and have made the kingdom of the sea their only allegiance. unlike our own failure to settle prosperous plantations on jamaica, this port has enjoyed great success (of a certain kind). no city founded in the new world has grown more quickly than this place, nor achieved a like degree of wealth. it is now more populous than any english town in the americas save boston--and it has realized a position of importance equalled only by its infamous reputation. in chase of the stolen spanish riches that daily pour in upon its streets, merchants will pay more for footage along its front than in the heart of london. having scarce supply of water, its residents do drink mainly strong liquors, and our census has shown there are not now resident in this port ten men to every tippling house, with the greatest number of licenses (we are advisd) having been issued to a certain lewd woman once of barbados, who has now repaired thither to the great advancement of her bawdy trade. although this port has tarnished the name of england by its headquartering of these insolent buccaneers, it is yet doubtful whether the island would still be in his majesty's possession were it not for the fear they strike in the heart of the spaniards, who would otherwise long since have reclaimed it. the chiefest of these rovers, an englishman known to all, has wrought much ill upon the spaniards (and on the hollanders, during our recent war), for which service to england (and himself) he is now conceived by his majesty as a gentleman of considerable parts, though he has acted in diverse ways to obstruct our quelling of the island's meddlesome maroons. accordingly, his majesty has made known to the council his desire that we strive to enlist this buccaneer's good offices in persuading his rovers (including a notorious woman, equally well known, said to be his wife, who doth also sail with these marauders) to uphold english jurisdiction of the island and its port. should this design fall out as desir'd, his majesty has hopes that (by setting, as he would have it privately, these knights of the blade in charge of his purse) he can employ them to good effect. in furtherance of this end, it is his majesty's pleasure that we, in this coming year, recall sir benjamin briggs (whose honesty his majesty has oft thought problemmatical) and make effort to induce this buccaneer to assume the post of governor of jamaica. * * * * * afterword in the foregoing i have attempted to distill the wine of history into something more like a brandy, while still retaining as much authentic flavor as possible. many of the episodes in the novel are fictionalized renderings of actual events, albeit condensed, and the majority of individuals depicted also were drawn from life. the action spans several years, from the first major slave auction on barbados, thought to have occurred slightly before mid-century, to the english seizure of jamaica in . the structure of race and economics in england's caribbean colonies changed dramatically in those short years, a social transformation on a scale quite unlike any other i can recall. the execution of king charles and the barbados war of independence also took place during that crucial time. all documents, letters, and broadsides cited here are essentially verbatim save the two directly involving hugh winston. of the people, there naturally were many more involved than a single novel could encompass. hugh winston is a composite of various persons and viewpoints of that age (such as thomas tryon), ending of course with the famous buccaneer sir henry morgan, later appointed governor of jamaica in recognition of his success pillaging spanish treasure. governor dalby bedford is a combination of governor philip bell and his successor francis, lord willoughby. (neither was actually killed in the barbados revolution. the revolt collapsed when, after defectors had welcomed parliament's forces ashore, five days of rain immobilized the planters, whereupon a stray english cannon ball knocked down the door of a plantation house where the island's militia commanders were gathered and laid out one of the sentries, demoralizing them into surrender.) katherine bedford was inspired by governor bell's wife, "in whome by reason of her quick and industrious spirit lay a great stroak of the government." benjamin briggs is an embodiment of many early settlers; his installation of the first sugar mill on the island and his construction of a walled compound for protection recall james drax and drax hall, and his later career is not unlike that of thomas modyford, a prosperous barbados planter who later became governor of jamaica. anthony and jeremy walrond are vaguely reminiscent of the prominent royalists humphrey and george walrond. edmond calvert was drawn for some portions of the story from sir george ayscue and for others from admiral william penn. richard morris is a combination of captain william morris and general robert venables, and james powlett recalls vice admiral michael pack. most of the council and assembly members appearing here were actually in those bodies, and my joan fuller is homage to a celebrated bridgetown brothel proprietor of the same name; of them all, i sincerely hope i have done most justice to her memory. jacques le basque was modeled on various early boucaniers--beginning with pierre le grand, the first to seize a spanish ship (using dugouts), and ending with the much-hated french buccaneer-king le vasseur, who built forte de la roche and its "dovecote." tibaut de fontenay was the latter's nephew, who murdered him much as described over the matter of a shared mistress. although serina, as mulatto "bed-warmer" to benjamin briggs, had no specific prototype at that early time (a condition soon to change, much to the dismay of english wives at home), atiba was inspired by a gold coast slave named coffe who led an unsuccessful revolt on barbados in the seventeenth century, intending to establish a black nation along african lines. as punishment he and several others were "burned alive, being chained at the stake." when advised of his sentence, he reportedly declared, "if you roast me today, you cannot roast me tomorrow." a contemporary broadside depicting the affair retailed briskly in london. atiba's subsequent career, as a maroon leader with whom the english eventually were forced to negotiate, also had various historical models, including the fearsome cudjoe, head of a warlike nation of free negroes still terrifying english planters on jamaica almost eighty years after it was seized. very few physical artifacts survive from those years. on barbados one can see drax hall, on which briggs hall was closely modeled, and little else. on tortuga, this writer chopped his way through the jungle and located the site of le vasseur's forte de la roche and "dovecote." a bit of digging uncovered some stonework of the fort's outer wall, but all that remained of the "dovecote" was a single plaster step, almost three and a half centuries old, once part of its lower staircase and now lodged in the gnarled root of a banyan tree growing against the huge rock atop which it was built. on jamaica there seems to be nothing left, save a few relics from the heyday of port royal. only the people of those islands, children of a vast african diaspora, remain as living legacy of europe's sweet tooth in the seventeenth century. the story here was pieced together from many original sources, for which thanks is due the superb library and rare book room of columbia university, the rare book room of the new york public library, the archives of barbados, and the institute of jamaica, kingston. for information on yoruba culture and practices, still very much alive in brazil in parts of the caribbean, i am grateful to dr. john mason of the yoruba theological seminary, the caribbean cultural center of new york, and friends in haiti who have over the years exposed me to haitian _vodun_. for information on tortuga and the boucaniers, including some vital research on forte de la roche, i am indebted to the archeologist daniel koski-karell; and for their hospitality to an enquiring novelist i thank les freres des ecoles chretiennes, christian brothers missionaries on the isle de la tortue, haiti. i am also grateful to dr. gary puckrein, author of little england, for his insights concerning the role slavery played in barbados' ill-starred attempt at independence. those friends who have endured all or portions of this manuscript, pen in hand, and provided valuable criticisms and suggestions include, in alphabetical order--norman and susan fainstein, joanna field, joyce hawley, julie hoover, ronald miller, ann prideaux, gary prideaux, and peter radetsky. without them this could never have been completed. i am also beholden to my agent, virginia barber, and to my editor, anne hukill yeager, for their tireless encouragement and assistance. books by thomas hoover nonfiction zen culture the zen experience fiction the moghul caribbee wall street samurai (the samurai strategy) project daedalus project cyclops life blood syndrome all free as e-books at www.thomashoover.info proofreaders. this file was produced from images generously made available by the canadian institute for historical microreproductions. a general history and collection of voyages and travels, arranged in systematic order: forming a complete history of the origin and progress of navigation, discovery, and commerce, by sea and land, from the earliest ages to the present time. * * * * * by robert kerr, f.r.s. & f.a.s. edin. * * * * * illustrated by maps and charts. vol. x. mdcccxxiv. contents of vol. x. * * * * * part ii. book iv. continued. chap. i--early circumnavigations, or voyages round the world, introduction, chap. i.--voyage of ferdinand magellan round the world, in - , sect. i. some account of magellan, previous to the commencement of the voyage, ii. proceedings of the voyage from seville to patagonia, and wintering there, iii. prosecution of the voyage, till the death of magellan, iv. continuation of the voyage to its conclusion, chap. ii. voyage by sir francis drake round the world, in - , sect. i. introduction, and preparation for the voyage, ii. narrative of the voyage from england to the straits of magellan, iii. incidents of the voyage, from the straits of magellan to new albion, iv. continuation of the voyage, from new albion to england. v. reception of sir francis drake in england, and some notices of his remaining actions, sect. vi first supplement to the voyage of sir francis drake; being an account of part of the foregoing navigation, by nuno da silva, vii second supplement, being the voyage of mr john winter, after parting from sir francis drake, chap. iii--voyage of sir thomas candish round the world, in - , introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage from england to the pacific, ii. transactions on the western coast of america, iii. voyage home to england, iv. second voyage of sir thomas candish, intended for the south sea, in § . incidents in the voyage, till the separation of the ships, § . disastrous result of the voyage to sir thomas candish, § . continuation of the voyage of the desire, captain davis, after parting from sir thomas candish, chap. iv. voyage of oliver van noort round the world, in - , introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage. ii. voyage of sebald de weert, to the south sea and straits of magellan, in , § . incidents of the voyage from holland to the straits of magellan, § . the fleet passes through the straits of magellan into the south sea, and is forced to return, § . incidents daring their second residence in the straits of magellan, § . voyage from the straits to holland, chap. v--voyage of george spilbergen round the world, in - , sect. i. narrative of the voyage, from holland to the south sea, ii. transactions in the south sea, along the western coast of america, iii. voyage home from america, by the east indies and cape of good hope, chap. vi--voyage round the world, in - , by william cornelison schouten and jacques le maire, going round cape horn, introduction, sect. i. journal of the voyage from the texel to cape horn, ii. continuation of the voyage, from cape horn to the island of java, chap. vii--voyage of the nassau fleet round the world, in - , under the command of jaques le hermite, introduction, sect. i. incidents of the voyage from holland to the south sea, ii. transactions of the fleet on the western coast of america, iii. voyage home from the western coast of america, chap. viii--voyage round the world, in - , by captain john cooke, accompanied by captain cowley, and captain william dampier, introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage by captain cowley, till he quitted the revenge on the western coast of america, ii. continuation of the narrative of captain cowley, from leaving the revenge, to his return to england, iii. sequel of the voyage, as far as dampier is concerned, after the separation of the nicholas from the revenge, chap. ix--voyage round the world, by william funnell, in - , introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage, till the separation of funnell from dampier, ii. sequel of the voyage of william funnell, after his separation from captain dampier, iii. brief account of stradling, clipperton, and dampier, after their respective separations, till their returns to england, chap. x--voyage round the world, by captain woods rogers, and stephen courtney, in - , introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage, from england to the island of juan fernandez, ii. proceedings of the expedition on the western coast of america, iii. sequel of the voyage, from california, by way of the east indies, to england, chap. xi--voyage round the world, by captain john clipperton, in - , introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage, from england to juan fernandez, ii. proceedings of the success in the south seas, iii. voyage of the success from the coast of mexico to china, iv. residence of captain clipperton at macao, and returns from thence to england, chap. xii--voyage round the world, by captain george shelvocke, in - , introduction, sect. i. narrative of the voyage from england to the south sea, ii. proceedings in the south sea, till shipwrecked on the island of juan fernandez, iii. residence on the island of juan fernandez, iv. farther proceedings in the south sea, after leaving juan fernandez, a general history and collection of voyages and travels. * * * * * part ii. (continued.) book iv. * * * * * chapter i. early circumnavigations, or voyages round the world. introduction. in this _fourth_ book of the _second_ part of our arrangement, it is proposed to give a history of the principal circumnavigations, or voyages round the world, previous to the reign of our present venerable sovereign. this book, therefore, comprises a period of years, from the year , when magellan sailed from spain on the first circumnavigation of the globe, till the year , when commodore anson returned to england from a similar expedition. the more recent circumnavigations, which have taken place since the year , chiefly under the munificent and enlightened patronage of george iii. or in imitation of these, and which have largely contributed to extend, and almost to render perfect, the geography and hydrography of the terraqueous globe, are intended to form a separate division, in a subsequent part of our arrangement. the accurate knowledge which we now possess of the form and dimensions of this globe of earth and water which we inhabit, has been entirely owing to the superior skill of the moderns in the mathematical sciences, as applicable to the practice of navigation, and to the observation and calculation of the motions of the heavenly bodies, for the ascertainment of latitudes and longitudes. it would require more space than can be conveniently devoted on the present occasion, to give any clear view of the geographical knowledge possessed by the ancients, together with a history of the progress of that science, from the earliest times, neither do the nature and objects of the present collection of voyages and travels call for any such deduction, of which an excellent epitome will be found in the history of geography, prefixed to playfair's system of geography. the ancients laboured under almost absolute incapacities for making extensive voyages or discoveries by sea, proceeding from ignorance of the form and dimensions of the earth, and other causes. they were but indifferently versed in the practical part of astronomy, without which, and those instruments which have been invented almost exclusively by the moderns, for measuring the paths, distances, and relative positions of the heavenly bodies, it is impossible to launch out with any tolerable success or safety on the trackless ocean. they were ignorant also of that wonderful property of the magnet or loadstone, which, pointing invariably towards the north, enables the modern mariner to know his precise course, at all times of the day of night, though clouds and thick mists may hide the luminaries of heaven from his observation, which were the only means of direction known to the ancients. various systems and theories appear to have prevailed among the ancients respecting the figure and motion of the earth; some justly enough supposing it to be a ball or sphere, suspended in infinite space, while others conceived it to be a flat surface, floating upon and surrounded by an interminable ocean. the just conceptions of some ancient philosophers, respecting the spherical figure of the earth, and its diurnal motion around its own axis, were superseded by others of a more popular nature, and forgotten for many ages. lactantius and augustine, two fathers of the catholic church, unfortunately adopted the idea of the earth being a flat surface, infinitely extending downwards; grounding this false notion upon a mistaken interpretation of the holy scriptures, or rather seeking assistance from them in support of their own unphilosophical conceptions. so strongly had this false opinion taken possession of the minds of men, in our european world, even after the revival of learning in the west, that galileo was imprisoned by the holy inquisitors at rome for asserting the sphericity of the earth, and the doctrine of _antipodes_, and had to redeem his liberty and life, by writing a refutation of that heretical doctrine, which satisfied the inquisitors, yet convinced the world of its truth. columbus assuredly grounded his grand discovery of america upon the knowledge of the earth being a sphere; and had not the new western world intervened, his voyage had probably been the first circumnavigation. in modern times, an idea has been advanced that columbus only retraced the steps of some former navigator, having seen certain parts of the grand division of the world which he discovered, already delineated on a globe. it were improper to enter upon a refutation of this idle calumny on the present occasion; yet it is easy to conceive, that the possessor of that globe, may have rudely added the reported discoveries of columbus, to the more ancient delineations. at all events, columbus was the first person who conceived the bold idea that it was practicable to sail round the globe. from the spherical figure of the earth, then universally believed by astronomers and cosmographers, in spite of the church, he inferred that the ancient hemisphere or continent then known, must of necessity be balanced by an equiponderant and opposite continent. and, as the portuguese had discovered an extensive track by sailing to the eastwards, he concluded that the opposite or most easterly coast of that country might certainly be attained, and by a nearer path, by crossing the atlantic to the westwards. the result of this profound conception, by the discovery of america, has been already detailed in the _second_ book of this collection; and we now proceed in this _fourth_ book to detail the various steps of other navigators, in prosecution of this grand design of surrounding the globe, in which many curious and interesting discoveries have been made, and by which geographical knowledge and practical navigation have been brought to great degrees of perfection. before commencing the narrative appropriated for this division of our arrangement, it is proper to give the following complete table of all the circumnavigators, within the period assigned to the present portion of this collection; with the names of the ports from which they sailed, and the dates of their respective voyages, and returns.--ed. |_sailed from_| |_returned_. . ferdinand, | seville, | aug. , . | sept. , . magellan, | in spain, | | . sir francis | plymouth sound, | dec. , . | sept. , . drake, | | | . sir thomas | plymouth, | july , . | sept. , . candish, | | | . oliver van | goeree, | sept. , . | aug. , . noord, | | | . george | texel, | aug. , . | july , . spilbergeny,| | | . shouten and | texel, | june , . | july , . lemair, | | | . nassau | goeree, | april , . | jan. , . fleet, | | | . cowley,[a] | achamack, in | aug. , . | oct. , . | virginia, | | . william | achamack, | aug. , . | sept. , . dampier,[a] | | | . dampier and | the downs, | aug. , . | aug. . funnel, | | | ll. wood rogers,| bristol, | june , . | oct. , . and courtney,| | | . john | plymouth, | feb. , . | june, . clapperton, | | | . george | plymouth, | feb. , . | aug. , . shelvocke | | | . roggewein, | texel, | july , . | july , . . george | st helens, | sept. , . | june , . anson, | | | [footnote a: these two are conjoined in chap. viii. of this book, for reasons which will appear there sufficiently obvious.--e.] * * * * * chapter i. voyage of ferdinand magellan round the world, in -- .[ ] section i. _some account of magellan, precious to the commencement of his voyage._ owing to the discoveries made under the authority of the sovereign of castile, the portuguese were excessively jealous of the safety of their possessions in the east indies. at length, after various negociations, the authority of the pope was interposed, then considered as supreme among the princes of europe who were in communion with the church of rome. by a bull or papal decree, all countries discovered, or to be discovered, in the east, were declared to belong to the crown of portugal, and all that were found in the west were to be the property of spain. yet this measure rather smothered than extinguished the flames of contention; as both courts readily listened to any proposals that tended to aggrandise the one at the expence of the other. this spirit of contention between the courts of spain and portugal, gave occasion to several men of enterprise, who happened to be dissatisfied by the delays or refusal of either of these courts, in countenancing their projects, to apply themselves for employment to the other. among those who took this method of advancing their fortunes, was ferdinand magalhaens, now generally known by the name of magellan. he was a gentleman of good family in portugal, who had addicted himself from his youth to maritime affairs, and had acquired great skill both in the theory and practice of navigation. he seemed formed by nature for the achievement of great exploits, having all the qualities requisite to compose the character of a truly great man. with a courage which no danger could appal, he possessed the utmost calmness of temper and sweetness of disposition, by which all who conversed with him were engaged to love and esteem his character. he was naturally eloquent, both in illustrating and proving the reasonableness of his own opinions, and in converting others from their erroneous preconceived notions. above all, he possessed that steady and persevering resolution, which not only enabled him to vanquish the greatest difficulties, but gave such appearance of success to every thing be promised or undertook, as secured the confidence of all who were under his command. as these extraordinary qualities would have distinguished him in any station of life, so they were remarkably useful in the present enterprise, by which he gained immortal reputation, although he lost his life before its completion. [footnote : harris' collection, i. . the utmost pains have been taken to narrate this expedition in the clearest manner, by comparing all the different relations of the spanish and portuguese writers. we regret much, however, the loss of a large history of this voyage, by p. martyr, which was burnt in the sack of rome, when taken by the constable de bourbon.--_harris_.] don ferdinand magellan had served with much credit in india, under the famous albuquerque, and thought that he merited some recompence for his services; but all his applications were treated with coldness and contempt by the great, which was intolerable to a person of his spirit. he associated, therefore, with men of like fortunes, whose merits had been similarly neglected, and particularly with one ray falero, a great astronomer, whom the portuguese represented as a conjuror, retiring along with him to the spanish court, where be made propositions for new discoveries to cardinal ximenes, who was then prime minister of spain. the portuguese ambassador used all imaginable pains to counteract these designs, and solicited the court to deliver up magellan and his companion as deserters, even representing magellan as a bold talkative person, ready to undertake any thing, yet wanting capacity and courage for the performance of his projects. he even made secret proposals to magellan, offering him pardon and great rewards to desist from his present purpose, and to return to the service of his own sovereign. all these arts were unavailing, as the spanish ministry, now competent judges of these matters, were satisfied of the probability of the discoveries proposed by magellan and his coadjutor falero, who were both received into favour, made knights of the order of st jago, and had their own terms granted to them. the grounds on which this expedition was founded were as follow. the opinion advanced by columbus, of the possibility of reaching the east indies by sailing to the west, was assumed as certainly well founded, though he had not been able to accomplish it; and it was asserted, that it could not be attended with any insuperable difficulty to sail from the south sea, then recently discovered, to the molucca islands. the grand desideratum was to find a passage westwards, from the atlantic ocean into the new-found south sea, which they expected might be met with through the rio de la plata, or by some other opening on that eastern coast of south america. should this succeed, spain might then reap the benefit of both the indies; since, if this discovery were made by way of the _west_, it would then fall expressly within the grant of the papal bull to spain. in consequence of these proposals, it was agreed that magellan and the other adventurers were to be furnished by the crown of spain with five ships, manned by men, with provisions for two years; and that the adventurers should reap a twentieth part of the clear profit, the government of any islands they might discover to be vested in them and their heirs for ever, with the title of adelantado. the agreed, fleet of five ships was accordingly fitted out for the expedition at seville, consisting of the trinidada, in which magellan sailed as admiral, and having a portuguese pilot named stephen gomez; the santa vittoria, commanded by don luis de mendoza; the st antonio, don juan de carthagena; the st jago, don juan serrano; and the conception, don gaspar de quixada. according to some authors, the number of men in these five ships amounted to , though by most they are said to have been , among whom were thirty portuguese, upon whom magellan chiefly depended for naval skill; as he likewise did greatly upon serrano, who had left the service of portugal in like manner with himself, after having served for many years in india, and some time in the moluccas, of which islands they were now going in search. section ii. _proceedings of the voyage from seville to patagonia, and wintering there_. great hopes of success were entertained from this voyage, from the known experience of the commanders, although its real object was carefully concealed by magellan, who merely gave out to the other adventurers that it was intended for the discovery of new countries, by which they believed themselves bound to the certain acquisition of gold. they set sail from seville, in high expectations of acquiring riches, on the th of august, . the d october, the fleet arrived between cape verd and the islands of that name. after being detained by tedious calms on the coast of guinea for seventy days, they at last got to the south of the line, and held on their course to the coast of brazil, of which they came in sight in about the latitude of ° s. they here procured abundant refreshments of fruits, sugar-canes, and several kinds of animals. proceeding about / degrees farther south, they came into a country inhabited by a wild sort of people, of prodigious stature, fierce and barbarous, and making a strange roaring noise, more like the bellowing of bulls, than human speech. notwithstanding their prodigious bulk, these people were so nimble that none of the spaniards or portuguese were swift enough to overtake them. at this place there was a fine river of fresh water, the mouth of which was fully seventeen leagues wide, in which there were seven islands, the largest of which they named the island of st mary, where they procured some _jewels_.[ ] proceeding along this coast towards the south, they fell in with two islands so abounding in seals and penguins, that they might have laden all their five ships with them in a short time. the penguins are a black, heavy, unwieldy fowl, extremely fat, covered with a sort of down instead of feathers, and having a bill like that of a raven; drawing their entire subsistence from the sea, as fish is their only food. [footnote : these jewels may possibly have been a few pearls. the indications in the text are too vague to afford even a guess at the situation of the river and its seven islands; only it may be mentioned, that the most northern part of the coast of patagonia is in lat. ° s. and that no river answering the description in the test is to be found on all that coast--e.] they next advanced to about the latitude of ° ' s. where they were forced to remain for five months, owing to the severity of the weather, it being now winter in these southern parts. they here passed their time very unpleasantly, and for a long time believed the country to be uninhabited, but at length a savage came to visit them. he was a brisk jolly fellow, very merrily disposed, and came towards them singing and dancing. on coming to the shore of the haven in which the ships had taken refuge, he stood there for some time, throwing dust upon his head. this being observed, some persons were sent ashore to him in a boat, and making similar signs of peace; and he came along with them on board, without any appearance of fear or hesitation. the size and stature of this person was such as in some measure entitled him to be deemed a giant, the head of one of the ordinary-sized spaniards only reaching to his waist, and he was proportionally large made. his body was painted all over, having a stag's horn delineated on each cheek, and large circles round the eyes. the natural colour of his skin was yellow, and his hair was white. his apparel consisted of the skin of a beast, clumsily sewed together, covering his whole body and limbs from head to foot. the beast of which this was the skin, was as strange as the wearer, being neither mule, horse, nor camel, but partaking of all three, having the ears of a mule, the tail of a horse, and the body shaped like a camel. the arms of this savage consisted of a stout bow, having for a string the gut or sinew of that strange beast; and the arrows were tipped with sharp stones, instead of iron heads. the admiral made this man be presented with meat and drink, of which he readily partook, and seemed to enjoy himself very comfortably, till happening to see himself in a mirror which was given him among other toys, he was so frightened that he started back and overturned two of the men, and did not easily recover his composure. this giant fared so well, that several others came to visit the ships, and one of them behaved with so much familiarity and good humour, that the europeans were much pleased with him. this person shewed them one of the beasts in the skins of which they were cloathed, from which the foregoing description must have been taken.[ ] being desirous to make prisoners of some of these giants, magellan gave orders for this purpose to some of his crew. accordingly, while amusing them with toys, they put iron shackles on their legs, which at first they conceived had been fine ornaments like the rest, and seemed pleased with their jingling sound, till they found themselves hampered and betrayed. they then fell a bellowing like bulls, and imploring the aid of _setebos_ in this extremity, whom they must therefore have conceived some good and compassionate being, as it is not to be conceived they would crave relief from an evil spirit. yet the voyagers reported strange things, of horrible forms and appearances frequently seen among these people, such as horned demons with long shaggy hair, throwing out fire before and behind: but these seem mere dreams or fables. [footnote : this must have been a lama, paca, or chilihueque, of the camel genus, vulgarly called peruvian sheep.--e.] most of the natives of this country were dressed in the skins of beasts, similarly to the one who first visited them. their hair was short, yet tied up by a cotton lace or string. they had no fixed dwellings, but used certain moveable huts or tents, constructed of skins similar to those in which they were cloathed, which they carry with them from place to place, as they roam about the country. what flesh they are able to procure, they devour quite raw without any kind of cookery, besides which their chief article of food is a sweet root, which they name _capar._ the voyagers report that these savages were very jealous of their women; yet do not mention having seen any. their practice of physic consists in bleeding and vomiting: the former being performed by giving a good chop with some edge tool to the part affected; and the latter is excited by thrusting an arrow half a yard down the throat of the patient. these people, to whom magellan gave the name of _patagons_, are so strong, that when one only was attempted to be made prisoner of by nine spaniards, he tired them all; and, though they got him down, and even bound his hands, he freed himself from his bonds, and got away, in spite of every endeavour to detain him. besides _capar_, the name of a root already mentioned, and which likewise they applied to the bread or ship's biscuit given them by the spaniards, the only words reported of their language are _ali_ water, _amel_ black, _cheiche_ red, _cherecai_ red cloth; and _setebos_ and _cheleule_ are the names of two beings to whom they pay religious respect, _setebos_ being the supreme, and _cheleule_ an inferior deity. the haven in which they remained there five months, was named by magellan, port st julian, of which and the surrounding country they took solemn possession for the crown of spain, erecting a cross as a signal of sovereignty. but the principal reason of this long stay was in consequence of a mutiny which broke out, not only among the common men, but was even joined or fomented rather by some of the captains, particularly by don luis de mendoza, on whom magellan had placed great reliance. on this occasion magellan acted with much spirit; for, having reduced the mutineers to obedience, he brought their ringleaders to trial for plotting against his life; hanged don luis de mendoza and a few others of the most culpable; leaving don juan de carthagena and others, who were not so deeply implicated, among the patagons. the weather growing fine, and the people being reduced to obedience, magellan set sail from port st julian, and pursued his course to the latitude of ° ' s. where finding a convenient port, with abundance of fuel, water, and fish, he remained for two months longer. section iii. _prosecution of the voyage, till the death of magellan_. again resuming the voyage, they proceeded along the eastern shore of patagonia to the latitude of ° s. when the entrance into the famous straits still known under the name of magellan were discovered, through which the squadron continued its voyage, finding these straits about leagues in length, from east to west, with varying breadths, in some places very wide, and in others not more than half a league across; the land on both sides being high, rugged, and uneven, and the mountains covered with snow. on reaching the western end of these straits, an open passage was found into the great south sea, which sight gave magellan the most unbounded joy, as having discovered that for which he had gone in quest, and that he was now able practicably to demonstrate what he had advanced, that it was possible to sail to the east indies by way of the west. to the point of land from which he first saw this so-long-desired prospect, he gave the name of _cape desiderato._ this prospect was not, however, so desirable to some of his followers; for here one of his ships stole away, and sailed homewards alone. magellan entered the great south sea on the th november, , and proceeded through that vast expanse, to which he gave the name of the pacific ocean, for three months and twenty days, without once having sight of land. during a considerable part of this period they suffered extreme misery from want of provisions, such as have been seldom heard of. all their bread and other provisions were consumed, and they were reduced to the necessity of subsisting upon dry skins and leather that covered some of the rigging of the ships, which they had to steep for some days in salt water, to render it soft enough to be chewed. what water remained in the ships was become putrid, and so nauseous that necessity alone compelled them to use it. owing to these impure and scanty means of subsistence, their numbers daily diminished, and those who remained alive became exceedingly weak, low-spirited, and sickly. in some, the gums grew quite over their teeth on both sides; so that they were unable to chew the tough leathern viands which formed their only food, and they were miserably starved to death. their only comfort under this dreadful state of famine was, that the winds blew them steadily and gently along, while the sea remained calm and almost unruffled, whence it got the name of pacific, which it has ever since retained. in all this length of time, they only saw two uninhabited islands, which shewed no signs of affording them any relief sometimes the needle varied extremely, and at other times was so irregular in its motions, as to require frequent touches of the loadstone to revive its energy. no remarkable star was found near the south pole, by which to ascertain the southern ordinal point, or to estimate the latitude. instead of an antarctic polar star, two clusters of small stars were observed, having a small space between them, in which were two stars of inconsiderable size and lustre, which seemed to be at no great distance from the pole, by the smallness of the circle they described in their diurnal course. when at the distance of ° from the south pole, they saw a high island to which they gave the name of _cipangue_; and at ° another equally high, which they named _sinnodit_.[ ] they sailed in one gulf; or stretch of sea, at least leagues, and made their longitude, by estimation or reckoning, ° w. from the place of their original departure. by this time they drew near the equinoctial line, and having got beyond that into ° n. latitude, they made for the cape called _cottigare_ by old geographers; but missing it in that old account of its latitude, they understood afterwards that it is in the latitude of ° n.[ ] [footnote : the text is evidently here erroneous, as magellan entered the pacific ocean in lat. ° s. and there is not the smallest reason to suspect he had been forced into the latitudes of ° and ° s. instead therefore of the south pole, we ought probably to understand the equator. as these two islands were uninhabited, the names given them must have been imposed by magellan or his associates. cipangue is the name given to japan by marco polo, and is of course a singular blunder. the other is unintelligible, and the voyage is so vaguely expressed, as even to defy conjecture.--e.] [footnote : this cape cottigare in the south sea, in lat. ° or ° n. is utterly unintelligible, unless it refer to the southern part of guam, guaham, or goad, one of the ladronea, which they soon discovered, and which is actually in ° n.--e.] on the th march, , they fell in with a cluster of islands, being then in lat. ° n. and ° of west longitude from the place of their first setting out.[ ] these islands were called by magellan _islas de los ladrones_, or the islands of robbers, and are called in modern geography the ladrones or marian islands. they here went on shore to refresh themselves, after all the fatigues and privations of their tedious voyage through the pacific ocean; but the thievish disposition of the islanders would not allow them any quiet repose, as they were continually stealing things from the ships, while the sick and worn-out mariners were endeavouring to refresh themselves on shore. resolving therefore to deliver themselves from the disturbance of these pilferers, they marched a small party of armed men into the interior of one of these islands, where they burnt some houses, and slew some of the natives. but, though this correction awed them a little for the present, it did not mend their thievish disposition; for which reason they resolved to seek out some other place, where they might enjoy some repose in safety. [footnote : by the reckoning in the text, the longitude of the ladrone islands, which they now discovered, would be ° ' w. from greenwich. but their true longitude is ° ' w. their latitude is between ° and ° ' n.--e.] no order or form of government was observed to subsist among these natives of the ladrones, but every one seemed to live according to his own humour or inclination. the men were entirely naked, the hair both of their heads and beards being black, that on their heads so long as to reach down to their waists. their natural complexion is olive, and they anoint themselves all over with cocoa-nut oil. their teeth seemed coloured artificially black or red, and some of them wore a kind of bonnet made of palm leaves. the women are better favoured and more modest than the men, and all of them wore some decent coverings made of palm leaves. their hair was black, thick, and so very long as nearly to trail on the ground. they seemed careful industrious housewives, spending their time at home in fabricating mats and nets of palm leaves, while the men were occupied abroad in stealing. their houses are of timber, covered with boards and great leaves, and divided within into several apartments. their beds are of mats laid above each other, and they use palm leaves by way of sheets. their only weapons are clubs, and long poles headed with bone. their food consists of cocoa-nuts, bananas, figs, sugar-canes, fowls, and flying-fishes. their canoes are oddly contrived and patched up, yet sail with wonderful rapidity, the sails being made of broad leaves sewed together. instead of a rudder they use a large board, with a staff or pole at one end, and in sailing, either end of their canoes is indifferently used as head or stern. they paint their canoes all over, either red, white, or black, as hits their fancy. these people are so taken with any thing that is new, that when the spaniards wounded several of them with their arrows, and even pierced some quite through, they would pluck out the arrows from their wounds, and stare at them till they died. yet would they still continue to follow after the ships, to gaze upon them as they were going away, so that at one time they were closely surrounded by at least two hundred canoes filled with natives, admiring those wonderful contrivances. the th of march, the spaniards landed on the island of _zamul_, about leagues from the ladrones.[ ] next day they landed on _humuna_, an island not inhabited, yet well deserving of being so, where they found springs of excellent water, with abundance of fruit-trees, gold, and white coral. magellan named this _the island of good signs_. the natives from some of the neighbouring islands, a people of much humanity, came here to them shortly after, very fair and of friendly dispositions, who seemed well pleased at the arrival of the spaniards among them, and came loaded with presents of fish, and wine made from the cocoa-tree, promising speedily to bring other provisions. this tree somewhat resembles the date palm, and supplies the natives with bread, oil, wine, vinegar, and even physic. the wine being drawn from the tree itself, and all the rest from the fruit or nut. to procure the wine, they eat off part of a branch, and fasten to the remaining part a large reed or hollow cane, into which the liquor drops, being like white-wine in colour, and of a grateful tartish taste. when a good quantity of this is drawn off, it is put into a vessel, and is their cocoa-wine without farther preparation. [footnote : in this voyage the term ladrones seems confined to the most southern islands of this group, as there are no other islands for a very considerable distance in any direction. the entire group stretches about ° ' nearly n. and s. or leagues. in modern geography, guaham and tinian are the largest islands of the group. urac, agrigan, analajam, and saypan, are the names of some others of the ladrones. the names in the text do not occur in modern maps. thirty leagues from guaham, the southernmost island, would bring them to tinian.--e.] the fruit, which is as large as a man's head, has two rinds or coats. the outermost is green, and two fingers thick, entirely composed of strings and threads, of which they make all the ropes that are used in their canoes. under this there is another rind, or shell rather, of considerable thickness, and very hard. this they burn and pulverize, and use it in this state as a remedy for several distempers. the kernel adheres all round the inside of this shell, being white, and about the thickness of a finger, having a pleasant taste, almost like an almond: this, when dried, serves the islanders instead of bread. in the inside of this kernel there is a considerable hollow space, containing a quantity of pure limpid liquor, of a very cordial and refreshing nature, which sometimes congeals into a solid, and then lies like an egg within the hollow kernel. when they would make oil, they steep the fruit in water till it putrifies, and then boil it over the fire to separate the oil, the remaining water becoming vinegar, when exposed some time to the sun. lastly, by mixing the kernel with the liquor lodged within its cavity, and straining it through a cloth, they make a very good milk. the cocoa-nut tree resembles the date palm, except in not being so rugged and knotty. they will continue to thrive for an hundred years, or more, and two of them will maintain a family of ten persons in wine plentifully, if used by turns, each tree being drawn for seven or eight days, and then allowed to rest as long. according to their promise, the islanders returned with a farther supply of provisions, and entered into much familiar cordiality with the spaniards. a number of them having been invited on board the admiral's ship, a gun was discharged by way of entertaining them, but put them in such terror, that they were ready to leap over board, yet were soon reconciled by good usage and presents. the name of their island was _zulvan_, of no great compass; yet considerable for its productions. they had in their barks various kinds of spices, as cinnamon, cloves, nutmegs, ginger, and mace, with several ornaments made of gold, which they carried up and down to sell as merchandise. although without apparel, these people were dressed, or ornamented rather, in a more costly manner than europeans; for they had gold earrings in each ear, and various jewels fastened by means of gold to their arms; besides which, their daggers, knives, and lances were richly ornamented with the same metal.[ ] their only cloathing consisted of a kind of apron, of a species of cloth made very ingeniously from the rind of a tree. the most considerable men among them were distinguished from the common people by a piece of silk ornamented with needle-work, wrapped round their heads. these islanders were gross, broad; and well set on their limbs, of an olive complexion, having their bodies constantly rubbed over with cocoa-nut oil. [footnote : it is highly probable that the valuable spiceries, gold, and jewels, of the text, are mere fables, invented by pigafetta, to enhance the value of his voyage, as such productions are now unknown to the ladrone islands.--e.] departing from this place on the st march, , and steering between west and south-west, they passed among the islands named _cenalo, huinanghan, hibussan,_ and _abarian._[ ] the th, they came to the isle of _buthuan,_ where they were kindly received by the king and prince, who gave them considerable quantities of gold and spices; in return for which, magellan presented the king with two cloth vests, giving knives, mirrors, and glass beads to the courtiers. along with the king and his nobles, magellan sent two persons on shore, one of whom was antonio pigafetta, the historian of the voyage. on landing, the king and his attendants all raised their hands to heaven, and then the two christians, who imitated this ceremony, which was afterwards observed in drinking. the king's palace was like a great hay-loft, mounted so high upon great posts of timber, that they had to go up by means of ladders, and was thatched with palm-leaves. though not christians, these islanders always made the sign of the cross at their meals, at which they sat cross-legged like tailors. at night, instead of candles, they burnt a certain gum of a tree, wrapped up in palm-leaves. after entertaining them in their respective palaces, the king and prince of _buthuan_ dismissed pigafetta and his companion with noble presents, filled with admiration of their guests, whom they believed to be men above the rank of common mortals, being especially astonished at pigafetta's writing, and reading what he had written, which was too mysterious for their comprehension. [footnote : not one of these islands is known to modern geography; and the whole of this voyage is related so loosely and unsatisfactorily, that it is impossible to trace its course, except at well-known places.--e.] in this island, by sifting the earth of a certain mine, they procured great lumps of gold, some as large as walnuts, and some even as big as eggs; all the vessels used by the king at table being made of this precious metal.[ ] the king of this island was a very comely personage, of an olive complexion, with long black hair, his body being perfumed with the odoriferous oils of storax and benzoin, and painted with various colours. he had gold-rings in his ears, and three rings of that metal on each of his fingers. his head was wrapped round by a silken veil or turban, and his body was cloathed to the knees in a cotton wrapper, wrought with silk and gold. he wore at his side a sword or dagger, with a haft of gold, and a scabbard of carved wood. this country is so rich, that one of the natives offered a crown of massy gold in exchange for six strings of glass beads; but magellan would not allow such bargains, lest the spaniards might appear too greedy of gold. [footnote : these stories of gold in such wonderful abundance, are obvious falsehoods contrived by pigafetta, either to excite wonderment, or to procure the command of an expedition of discovery; a practice we have formerly had occasion to notice in the early spanish conquests and settlements in america.--e.] the natives were active and sprightly, the common men being quite naked, except painting their bodies; but the women are cloathed from the waist downwards, and both sexes wore gold ear-rings. they all continually chewed _areka_, a fruit like a pear, which they cut in quarters, rolling it up in a leaf called _betel_, resembling a bay-leaf, alleging that they could not live without this practice. the only religious rite observed among them, was looking up to heaven, to which they raised their joined hands, and calling on their god _abba_. magellan caused a banner of the cross, with the crown of thorns and the nails, to be exposed and publicly reverenced by all his men in the king's presence; desiring the king to have it erected on the top of a high mountain in the island, as a token that christians might expect good entertainment in that country, and also as a security for the nation; since, if they prayed to it devoutly, it would infallibly protect them against lightning and tempests, and other evils. this the king promised should be done, knowing no better, and glad to be so easily defended from thunderbolts. leaving this island, and conducted by the king's pilots, the spaniards came to the isles of _zeilon, zubut, messana,_ and _caleghan_, of which _zubut_ was the best, and enjoyed the best trade. in _massana_, they found dogs, cats, hogs, poultry, goats, rice, ginger, cocoa-nuts, millet, panic, barley, figs, oranges, wax, and plenty of gold. this island lies in lat. ° ' n. and in long. ° from their first meridian.[ ] after remaining here eight days, they sailed to the n.w. passing the islands of _zeilon, bohol, canghu, barbai_, and _caleghan_; in which last islands there are bats as large as eagles, which they found to eat, when dressed, like poultry. in this island, among various other birds, there was one kind resembling our hens, but having small horns, which bury their eggs in the sand, where they are hatched by the heat of the sun. _caleghan_ is about twenty miles w. from _messana_; and _zubut_, to which they now directed their course, fifty leagues w. from _caleghan_. in this part of the voyage they were accompanied by the king of _messana_, whom magellan had greatly attached to him by many services. [footnote : this is ° of longitude beyond the ladrones, which are in ° ' w. and would consequently give the longitude of zubut as ° ' w. or ° ' e. from greenwich. yet from what appears afterwards, they seem to have been now among the philippine islands, the most easterly of which are in long. ° e. from greenwich.--e.] they entered the port of _zubut_ on the th april, and on coming near the city all the great guns were fired, which put the inhabitants into great consternation. this, however, was soon quieted, by the arrival of a messenger at the city from the ships, who assured the king of _zubut_ that this was an ordinary piece of respect to his dignity, whom they had come to visit on their way to the moluccas, hearing of his fame from the king of _messana_. the messenger also desired that the spaniards might be furnished with provisions, in exchange for their commodities. the king then observed, that it was customary for all ships that came to his port to pay tribute, which custom he expected they would comply with as well as others. to this the messenger replied, that the spanish admiral was the servant of so powerful a sovereign, that he could make no such acknowledgment to any prince whatever. that the admiral was willing to be at peace with him, if he thought proper to accept his friendship: but if otherwise, he should soon have his fill of war. a certain moor, who happened to be present, told the king that these people were certainly the portuguese, who had conquered calicut and malacca, and advised him therefore to beware of provoking them to hostilities; whereupon the king referred the matter to his council, promising to give an answer next day, and in the meantime sent victuals and wine aboard the ships. the king of messana, who was a potent prince, went ashore to confer with the king of zubut, who in the end became almost ready to pay tribute instead of demanding it; but magellan only asked liberty to trade, which was readily granted. magellan persuaded the king and his principal people to become christians, which they did after some religious conferences, and were all afterwards baptised. this example spread over the whole island, so that in eight days the whole inhabitants became christians, except those of one village of idolaters, who absolutely refused. the spaniards therefore burnt this village, and erected a cross on its ruins.[ ] [footnote : this incredible story has been considerably abridged on the present occasion, and is too absurd to merit any commentary.--e.] the people of this island deal justly with each other, having the use of weights and measures. their houses are of timber, raised high in the air on posts, so that they ascend to them by ladders. they told us of a certain sea-fowl in this country, called _lughan_, about the size of a crow, which the whales sometimes swallow alive, in consequence of which their hearts are eaten by this bird; and many whales are killed in this manner, the bird being afterwards found alive in the carcase of the whale. the spaniards drove a most advantageous trade at this place, receiving from the natives ten pesos of gold, of a ducat and a half each, in exchange for fourteen pounds of iron; and procured abundance of provisions for mere trifles. not far from zabut is the isle of _mathan_, the inhabitants of which go quite naked, except a slight covering in front, all the males wearing gold-rings hanging to the preputium. this island was governed by two kings, one of whom refused to pay tribute to the king of spain, on which magellan determined to reduce him by force of arms. the indian had an army of between six and seven thousand men, armed with bows and arrows, darts and javelins, which magellan attacked with sixty men, armed with coats of mail and helmets. the battle was for a long time doubtful, when at last magellan advanced too far among the barbarians, by whom he was at first wounded by a poisoned arrow, and afterwards thrust into the head by a lance; which at once closed the life and actions of this noble commander. about eight or nine of the christians were slain in this engagement, besides many wounded. after this disaster the spaniards ineffectually attempted to redeem the body of their unfortunate admiral; and the other king, who had embraced the christian religion without understanding its tenets, abandoned it upon this reverse of fortune to the spaniards, and made peace with his rival, engaging to put all the christians to death. with this view, he invited the spaniards to a banquet, when he made them all be cruelly murdered, only reserving don juan serrano alive, in order to procure a supply of artillery and ammunition for his ransom. with these conditions the spaniards would have willingly complied, but found so much prevarication and treachery in the conduct of the natives, and were so intimidated by the miserable fate of their companions, that they put to sea, leaving the unfortunate serrano to his miserable fate. section iv. _continuation of the voyage to its conclusion_. a little before the death of magellan, news were received of the moluccas, the great object of this voyage. leaving mathan, they sailed for the island of _bohol_, where they burnt the conception, one of their ships, transferring its men, ammunition, and provisions into the other two. directing their course from thence to the s.w. they came to the island of _paviloghon_, inhabited by negroes. from thence they came to a large island named _chippit_, in lat. ° n. about leagues w. from zabut, and about ° of longitude from their first departure.[ ] this island abounds in rice, ginger, goats, hogs, hens, &c. and the spaniards were kindly received by the king, who, in token of peace, marked his body, face, and the tip of his tongue, with blood which he drew from his left arm; in which ceremony he was imitated by the spaniards. sailing about leagues from thence between the w. and s.w. or w.s.w. they came to a very large island, named _caghaian_, thinly inhabited. the inhabitants were mahometans, exiles from borneo, rich in gold, and using poisoned arrows; a common practice in most of these islands. sailing w.n.w. from this island leagues, they came to _puloan_, a fruitful island in lat. ° ' n. and ° ' of longitude w. from their first departure.[ ] this island yields much the same productions as chippit, together with large figs, battatos, cocoa-nuts, and sugar-canes; and they make a kind of wine of rice, which is very intoxicating, yet better than palm-wine. the natives go entirely naked, use poisoned arrows, and are greatly addicted to cock-fighting. [footnote : bohal is one of the philippine islands, in lat. ° n. and long. ° ' e. from greenwich. paviloghon and chippit must accordingly refer to some islands of the same group farther west.--e.] [footnote : pulcan, pulowan, or paragua, the westermost of the philippines, an island of considerable extent, in lat. ° n. and long. ° e. from greenwich. from the direction of the voyage, the great island of chaghaian of the text, was probably that now called magindano.--e.] they came next to the great and rich island of borneo, in lat. ° ' n. the chief city containing not less than , houses. the king was a mahometan of great power, keeping a magnificent court; and was always attended by a numerous guard. he sent several presents to the spanish captains, and made two elephants be led out with rich silk trappings, to bring the spanish messengers and presents to his palace. he has ten secretaries of state, who write every thing concerning his affairs on the bark of trees. his household is managed by women, who are the daughters of his principal courtiers. this country affords camphor, which is the gum of a tree called _capar_; as also cinnamon, ginger, myrabolans, oranges, lemons, sugar, cucumbers, melons, and other fruits, with abundance of beasts and birds, and all other products of the equinoctial climate. the natives continually chew betel and areka, and drink arrack. leaving borneo, they went to the island of _cimbubon_, in, lat. ° ' n.[ ] where they remained forty days, caulking and repairing their ships, and taking in a supply of fresh water. in the woods of this isle they found a tree, the leaves of which, when they fall to the ground, move from place to place as if alive. they resemble the leaves of the mulberry, having certain fibres produced from their sides resembling legs, and suddenly spring away when touched. pigafetta, the author of this relation, kept one of these leaf-animals in a dish for eight days.[ ] this isle produces ostriches, wild hogs, and crocodiles. they caught here a fish having a head like a sow, with two horns, its body consisting of one entire bone, and having a substance on its back resembling a saddle. [footnote : perhaps balambangan, in ° ' n.] [footnote : harris observes, that this account is quite incredible: yet it is certainly true that an insect of this description exists, though not the leaf of a tree, as erroneously supposed by pigafetta.--e.] from hence they sailed to certain islands named _salo taghima_, which produce fine pearls, and from whence the king of borneo once procured two large round pearls, nearly as big as eggs. they came next to a harbour in the island of _sarangani_, reported to yield both pearls and gold. at this place they pressed two pilots to conduct them to the moluccas; and passing the islands named _ceana, canida, cabiaia, camuca, cabalu, chiari, lipan_, and _nuza_, they came to a fair isle in lat ° ' n. named _sangir_.[ ] passing five other islands, they at last espied a cluster of five islands, which they were informed by the pilots were the moluccas. this was on the th november, , twenty-seven months after their departure from spain. trying the depth of the sea in the neighbourhood of these islands, they found it no less than fifty-one fathoms; though the portuguese report that this sea is too shallow for being navigated, and is besides rendered extremely dangerous by numerous rocks and shelves, and by continual darkness; doubtless to deter any other nation from attempting to go there. [footnote : sangir is in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° e. from greenwich. the other islands enumerated in the text do not occur in modern maps.--e.] they came to anchor in the port of _tiridore_ [tidore] on the th november, this being one of the chief of the molucca islands. although a mahometan, the king of this island was so fond of the spaniards, that he invited them to come on shore as into their own country, and to use the houses as their own, calling them his brethren and children; even changing the name of his island from tidore to castile. these molucca islands are five in number, _ternate, tidore, mortir, makian_, and _batchian_. ternate is the chief of these islands, and its king once ruled over them all; but at this time mortir and makian were commonwealths, but batchian was a separate monarchy. the clove-tree is very tall, and as big about as the body of a man, having large boughs, with leaves resembling those of the bay-tree, and the bark is of an olive colour. the cloves grow in large clusters at the extremities of the boughs; being at first white, but growing red when they come to maturity, and grow black when dried. while green, the flavour of the wood, bark, and leaves, is almost as strong as that of the cloves. these are gathered twice each year, in june and december, and if not taken in time, become very hard. every man has his own particular trees, on which they bestow very little care. they have also in this isle a peculiar sort of tree, the bark of which, being steeped in water, may be drawn out in small fibres as fine as silk; of which the women make themselves a sort of aprons, which are their only cloathing. near tidore is the large island of _gilolo_, which is divided between the mahometans and idolaters. the two mahometan kings have themselves contributed liberally to the population of the island; one of them having children, and the other . the pagans are more moderate in their conduct in this respect than the mahometans, and are even less superstitious; yet it is said that they worship, for the rest of the day, whatever they first see every morning. in this island there grows a peculiar sort of reed, as big as a man's leg, which is full of limpid wholesome water. on the th november, a public warehouse was opened by the spaniards in the town of tidore, for the sale of their merchandise, which were exchanged at the following rates. for ten yards of good red cloth, they had one bahar of cloves, containing four cantars or quintals and six pounds; the cantar being pounds. for fifteen yards of inferior cloth, they had one bahar. likewise a bahar for drinking glasses, or for _cathyls_ of quicksilver. the islanders also brought all sorts of provisions daily to the ships, together with excellent water from certain hot springs in the mountains where the cloves grow. they here received a singular present for the king of spain, being two dead birds about the size of turtle-doves, with small legs and heads and long bills, having two or three long party-coloured, feathers at each side, instead of wings, all the rest of their plumage being of a uniform tawny colour. these birds never fly except when favoured by the wind. the mahometans allege that these birds come from paradise, and therefore call them the birds of god. besides cloves, the molucca islands produce ginger, rice, sago, goats, sheep, poultry, popinjays, white and red figs, almonds, pomegranates, oranges and lemons, and a kind of honey which is produced by a species of fly less than ants. likewise sugar-canes, cocoa-nuts, melons, gourds, and a species of fruit, called _camulical_, which is extremely cold. the isle of tidore is in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' e.[ ] and about ° ' w. from the ladrones,[ ] in a direction nearly s.w. formerly the natives of these islands were all heathens, the moors or mahometans having only had footing there for about fifty years before the arrival of the spaniards. ternate is the most northerly of these islands, and batchian is almost under the line, being the largest of them all.[ ] [footnote : this is the true position, reckoning the longitude from greenwich. in the original the longitude is said to be ° w. from the first meridian of the voyagers, being seville in spain, which would give ° e. from greenwich; no great error, considering the imperfect way in which the longitude was then reckoned at sea.--e.] [footnote : this is a gross error, perhaps of the press, as the difference of longitude is ° '.--e.] [footnote : the northern end of batchian is in lat. ° ', and its southern extremity in ° ', both south.--e.] departing from tidore, the spaniards were attended by several kings in their canoes to the isle of _mare_,[ ] where this royal company took leave of them with much apparent regret. in this isle they left one of their ships which was leaky, giving orders to have it repaired, for its return to spain. being now reduced to forty-six spaniards and thirteen indians, they directed their course from mare towards the s.w. passing the isles named _chacotian, lagoma, sico, gioghi, caphi, sulacho, lumatola, tenetum, bura_ [bouro?] _arubon_ [perhaps amboina?] _budia, celaruri, benaia, ambalao, bandon_ [perhaps banda?] _zorobua, zolot, moceuamor, galian_, and _mullua_, besides many others possessed by mahometans, heathens, and canibals. they stopped fifteen days at _mallua_ to repair their ship, being in ° n. lat. and ° long. according to their reckoning. this island produces much pepper, both long and of the ordinary round kind. the tree on which it grows climbs like ivy, and its leaf resembles that of the mulberry. the natives are canibals; the men wearing their hair and beards; and their only weapons are bows and arrows. [footnote : marhee foul, a small isle between tidore and motir.--e.] leaving _mallua_ [moa?] on the th january, , they arrived at _tima_ [timor?] five leagues to the s.s.w. this island is in lat. ° s. and long. ° e. where they found ginger, white sanders, various kinds of fruits, and plenty of gold and provisions of all kinds. the people of the moluccas, java, and _lozen_ [luzon, or the principal island of the philippines], procure their sanders-wood from hence. the natives are idolaters, and have the _lues venerea_ among them, which is a common distemper in all the islands of this great archipelago. leaving timor on the th february, they got into the great sea called _lantchidol_, steering w.s.w. and leaving the coast of a long string of islands on the right hand, and taking care not to sail too near the shore, lest the portuguese of malacca should chance to discover them; wherefore they kept on the outside of java and sumatra. that they might pass the cape of good hope the more securely, they continued their course w.s.w. till they got into the latitude of ° s. though so sore pinched by hunger and sickness, that some were for putting in at mosambique for refreshments; but the majority concluded that the portuguese would prove bad physicians for their distempers, and determined therefore to continue the voyage homewards. in this course they lost twenty-one of their men, and were at length constrained to put in at the island of st jago, one of the cape verds, to throw themselves on the mercy of the portuguese. so, venturing ashore, they opened their miserable case to the portuguese, who at first relieved their necessities; but the next time they went on shore, detained all who came as prisoners. those who still remained in the ship, now reduced to thirteen, having no mind to join their companions in captivity, made all the haste they could away, and being favoured by the winds, they arrived in the harbour of san lucar, near seville, on the th september, . he who commanded this vessel, which had the good fortune to return from this remarkable voyage, was juan sebastian cano, a native of guetaria in biscay, a person of much merit and resolution, who was nobly rewarded by the emperor charles v. to perpetuate the memory of this first voyage round the world, the emperor gave him for his coat of arms the terrestrial globe, with this motto, _prima me circumdedisti_. the newly-discovered straits at the southern extremity of south america, were at first named the _straits of vittori_, after the ship which returned; but they soon lost that name, to assume another which becomes them much better, in honour of their discoverer, and have ever since been denominated the _straits of magellan_. this most celebrated voyage took up three years and twenty-seven days, having commenced on the th august, , and concluded on the th september, . by its success, the skill and penetration of the great columbus, who, only twenty-seven years before, had first asserted the possibility of its performance, were fully established. one circumstance was discovered in this voyage, which, although reason have taught us to explain, could hardly have been expected _a priori_. on the return of the spaniards to their own country, they found they had lost a day in their reckoning, owing to the course they had sailed; whereas had they gone by the east, and returned by the west, they would have gained a day in their course. another circumstance, which served to heighten the reputation of magellan, who deserves the sole honour of this voyage, was the difficulty experienced by other able commanders, who endeavoured to fellow the course he had pointed out. the first who made the attempt were two genoese ships in , but unsuccessfully. in , cortes, the conqueror of mexico, sent two ships with men, to endeavour to find their way through the straits of magellan to the moluccas, but without effect. sebastian cabot tried the same thing, by order of emanuel king of portugal, but was unable to succeed. chapter ii. voyage by sir francis drake round the world, in - .[ ] * * * * * section i. _introduction, and preparation for the voyage_. in his annals of the reign of queen elizabeth, the learned cambden informs us, that the father of the celebrated sir francis drake was the rev. edmund drake, vicar of upnore on the river medway, and says he had this information from sir francis himself. yet the industrious john stowe says, that he was the eldest of twelve brethren, the sons of edmund drake, mariner, at tavistock in devonshire, and was born in . perhaps both accounts may be true; and mr edmund drake, though a mariner originally, may have had a competent share of learning, and may have been admitted to orders on the final establishment of the reformation. [footnote : hakluyt, iv. . harris, i. p. . oxford coll. ii. sect. xvi. callender's voy. i. . the original account of this voyage was published at london, in to, in , and reprinted in .--e.] this celebrated naval hero received the christian name of francis from his godfather the earl of bedford, but does not appear to have derived any great patronage from that nobleman. he was sent young to sea, as an apprentice to the master of a small bark, who traded with france and zealand; and his master, a bachelor, taking a great affection for him, left him his bark at his death. at eighteen years of age, he was purser of a ship on a voyage to the bay of biscay, and at twenty made a voyage to the coast of guinea. in all these voyages he distinguished himself by extraordinary courage, and by a sagacity beyond his years. in , his laudable desire of glory induced him to venture his all in a voyage to the west indies, which had no success. in , he served under his kinsman sir john hawkins in the bay of mexico, but was again unfortunate, returning from the voyage rich in character and fame, but with almost ruined circumstances. these disappointments served only to increase his desire of bettering his fortunes at the expence of the grand enemy of his country, against whom he made two other voyages into these parts; the first in with two ships, the dragon and swan and the second in , in the swan alone, chiefly for information, that he might qualify himself for undertaking some enterprize of greater importance; which he at length carried into execution with great courage and perseverance. his character for bravery and seamanship being now established, he soon found a sufficient number of persons willing to adventure a part of their fortunes in a privateering voyage which he proposed. he accordingly sailed from plymouth on the th may, , in the pasco, a ship only of seventy tons, having for his consort the swan of tons, commanded by his brother john drake, with seventy-three men and boys, and provisions for a year. such were the mighty preparations he had made for attacking the power of spain in the west indies, in which he considered himself justified, in order to make reprisals for the losses he had formerly sustained from the spaniards. in this voyage he surprised and plundered the famous town of nombre de dios; and soon afterwards had a distant view of the south sea from the top of a high tree, which inflamed him with the desire of conducting an english ship thither, which attempt he had perhaps never thought of but for that circumstance. in this expedition he acquired immense riches for his owners, and considerable wealth for himself; and being of an honourable and generous disposition, he scorned to avail himself of advantages, which most other men would have considered as their right. of this we have the following remarkable instance. having presented a cutlass to a captain or caçique of the free indians inhabiting the isthmus of darien, the caçique gave him in return four large ingots of gold, which he immediately threw into the common stock, saying, "my owners gave me that cutlass, and it is just they should receive their share of its produce." his return to england from this successful expedition was equally fortunate, as he sailed in twenty-three days from cape florida to the scilly islands. arriving at plymouth on sunday, the th august, , during divine service, the news of his return was carried to church, on which few persons remained with the preacher, all the congregation running out to welcome the adventurous drake, who had been absent fourteen months and sixteen days in this voyage. the wealth he gained in this expedition he generously expended in the service of his country, equipping no less than three frigates at his own expence, which he commanded in person, and with which he contributed materially to the reduction of the rebellion in ireland, under the supreme command of the earl of essex. after the death of that nobleman, he chose sir christopher hatton for his patron, then vice-chamberlain to the queen, and afterwards lord high-chancellor of england. by his interest, not without great opposition, captain drake obtained a commission from queen elizabeth for the voyage of which it is now proposed to give an account, and which he had long meditated. being thus provided with the royal authority, his friends contributed largely towards the intended expedition, while he applied himself with all diligence to get every thing in readiness for the important undertaking; having in view to attack the powerful monarchy of spain, in its richest yet most vulnerable possessions on the western coasts of america, with what would now be considered a trifling squadron of five small barks. the ships, as they were then called, fitted out for this bold enterprize, were, the pelican, afterwards named the hind, of tons, admiral-ship of the squadron, under his own immediate command as captain-general; the elizabeth, vice-admiral, of tons, commanded by captain john winter, who was lieutenant-general of the expedition; the marigold, a bark of tons, captain john thomas; the swan, a fly-boat of tons, captain john chester; and the christopher, a pinnace of tons, captain thomas moon. these ships were manned with able-bodied men, including officers, and were provided with an ample supply of provisions, ammunition and stores, for so long and dangerous a voyage. captain drake likewise provided the frames of four pinnaces, which were stowed on board in pieces, ready to be set up as occasion might require. he is also said to have made provision for ornament and delight, carrying with him a band of musicians, together with rich furniture and much silverplate, all the vessels for his table, and many of those belonging to the cook-room, being of that metal. this magnificence is stated by his biographers, to have been intended as a display for the honour of his country among foreign nations. section ii. _narrative of the voyage from england to the straits of magellan_. all things being duly prepared. captain drake sailed with his squadron from plymouth sound, about five in the afternoon of the th november, , giving out that he was bound for alexandria in egypt, which had been made the pretended object of the voyage, to prevent the court of spain from taking measures for its obstruction. in consequence of a violent storm, in which some of the ships sustained damage, he was forced to put into falmouth haven, whence he returned to plymouth. having repaired all defects, he once more set sail on the th december of the same year. avoiding as much as possible to come near the land too early, he fell in with cape cantin, on the barbary coast, on the th, and came to the island of mogadore on the th. in the channel of one mile broad, between that island and the main, he found a convenient harbour, where he caused one of his pinnaces to be built. while thus engaged, some of the inhabitants came to the shore with a flag of truce, on which the admiral sent a boat to enquire what they wanted. one of his men remained as a pledge with the natives, two of whom came off to the ship. these informed the admiral by signs, that they would next day supply the ships with good provisions; in return for which proffered civility, the admiral rewarded them with shoes, some linen, and two javelins, and sent them again on shore. next day, they came again to the shore, according to promise; on which occasion, an englishman, named fry, leapt on shore among them from the boat, considering them as friends; but they perfidiously made him a prisoner, threatening to stab him if he made any resistance. they then mounted him on horseback, and carried him into the interior; but he was afterwards sent back in safety to england. the pinnace being finished, they sailed from mogadore on the th december, and arrived at cape blanco on the th january, . on the voyage from mogadore to cape blanco, they took three _canters_, or spanish fishing-boats, and three caravels. here they found a portuguese caravel at anchor, bound to the cape verd islands for salt, in which there were only two mariners. they took possession of this ship, and carried her into the harbour of cape blanco, where they remained four days, during which time the admiral trained his men on shore, to prepare them for land service on occasion. at this place they took such necessaries as they wanted from the fishermen, as also one of their barks or canters of tons, leaving behind a small bark of their own, called the benedict. leaving this place on the d january, they were told by the master of the portuguese caravel, which they carried along with them, that abundance of dried _cabritos_ or goats might be procured at mayo, one of the cape verd islands, which were yearly prepared there for the ships belonging to the king of spain. they arrived at mayo on the th january, but the inhabitants refused to trade with them, being expressly forbidden to have any intercourse with foreigners, by orders from their sovereign. next day, however, the admiral sent a company of armed men on shore under the command of mr winter and mr doughty, to take a view of the island, and to see if any refreshments could be procured. they marched accordingly to the chief place of the island; and, after travelling three days through the mountains, they arrived there before day-break on the fourth day. the inhabitants were all fled, but this part of the island seemed more fertile and better cultivated than any of the rest. they rested here some time, banqueting on delicious grapes, which they found in perfection at that season of the year, though the depth of winter in england. mayo abounds with goats, wild poultry, and salt; this last being formed in great quantities among the rocks, by the heat of the sun; so that the natives have only the trouble of gathering it into heaps, and sell it to their neighbours, from which they derive great profit. they found here cocoa-nut trees, which have no branches or leaves but at the top of the tree, where the fruit grows in clusters. they then marched farther into the island, where they saw great numbers of goats, but could not get any. they might have furnished themselves with some dried carcasses of old goats, which the natives laid purposely in their way; but not caring for the refuse of the island, they returned to the ships. leaving mayo on the st of january, they sailed past the island of st jago, whence three pieces of cannon were fired at them, but without doing any injury. this is a large fine island, inhabited by the portuguese; but the mountains are said to be still occupied by moors, who fled thither to deliver themselves from slavery, and have fortified themselves in places of difficult access. near this island they saw two ships under sail, one of which they took, and it turned out a valuable prize, being laden with wine. the admiral detained this ship, which he committed to the charge of mr doughty, and took the portuguese pilot, named nuno da silva into his service, sending the rest away in his pinnace, giving them some provisions, a butt of wine, and their apparel. that same night they came to the island of _fuego_, or the burning island. it is inhabited by portuguese, having a volcano on its northern side, which is continually throwing out smoke and flames; yet seems to be reasonably commodious. on the south of fuego there is a very sweet and pleasant island, called by the portuguese _ilha brava_, the brave or fine island. this is cloathed with evergreen trees, and has many streams of fresh water which run into the sea, and are easily accessible; but it has no convenient road for ships, the sea being every where too deep for anchorage. it is alledged that the summit of fuego is not higher in the air, than are the roots of brava low in the sea. leaving these islands, and approaching the line, they were sometimes becalmed for a long time together, and at other times vexed with tempests. at all times, when the weather would permit, they had plenty of dolphins, bonitos and flying-fish; several of the last dropping in their flight on the decks, unable to rise again, because their finny wings wanted moisture. taking their departure from the cape de verd islands, they sailed days without seeing land; and at length, on the th april, , got sight of the coast of brazil, in lat. ° s. the barbarous people on shore, discovering the ships, began to practice their accustomed ceremonies to raise a storm for destroying their ships, making great fires, and offering sacrifices to the devil.[ ] the th april they had thunder, lightning, and rain, during which storm they lost sight of the christopher, but found her again on the th; and the place where all the ships met together, which had been dispersed in search of her, was named cape _joy_, at which place the ships took in a supply of fresh water. the country here was pleasant and fertile, with a sweet and temperate climate; but the only inhabitants seen were some herds of deer, though some footsteps of men, apparently of great stature, were noticed on the ground. having weighed anchor, and sailed a little farther along the coast, they came to a small and safe harbour, formed between a rock and the main, the rock breaking the force of the sea. on this rock they killed some sea-wolves, a species of seals, which they found wholesome food, though not pleasant. [footnote : this idea is uncharitable and absurd, as the navigators could not know any thing of the motives of these fires, and much less about the alleged sacrifices. the fires might have been friendly signals, inviting them on shore.--e.] going next to lat. ° s. they sailed up the rio plata, and came into and fathoms, fresh water, with which they filled their water casks; but finding no convenient harbour, went again to sea on the th of april. sailing still onwards, they came to a good bay, having several islands, one of which was well stocked with seals and the others with sea fowl, so that they had no want of provisions, together with plenty of water. the admiral being ashore on one of these islands, the natives came about him, dancing and skipping in a friendly manner, and willingly bartered any thing they had for toys; but they had the strange custom of refusing to accept of any thing, unless first thrown down on the ground. they were a comely strong-bodied people, swift of foot, and of lively dispositions. the marigold and christopher were dispatched in search of a convenient harbour, and soon returned with news of having found one, into which all the ships removed. here the seals were so numerous, that above were killed in about an hour. the natives came boldly about them, while working ashore, having their faces painted, their only apparel being a covering of skin with the fur on, wrapped about their waists, and a kind of wreaths round their heads. each man had a bow, about an ell long, and only two arrows. they even seemed to have some notion of military discipline, as they ranged their men in an orderly manner; and they gave sufficient proof of their agility, by stealing the admiral's hat from his head, which could not be recovered.[ ] while in this bay, the admiral took every thing out of the fly-boat that could be of any use; she was then laid on shore and burnt, and all her iron work saved for future use. [footnote : harris observes, that these were of the nation named patagons by magellan. but no notice is taken of their stature being above the ordinary height.--e.] sailing from this place, the fleet came to anchor in port st julian on the th june, where they saw the gibbet still standing, on which magellan had formerly executed some of his mutinous company. here also admiral drake executed one captain doughty, the most suspected action of his life. mr doughty had been guilty of certain actions, tending towards contention or mutiny, and was found guilty partly on his own confession, and partly by proof, taken in good order and as near as might be according to the forms of the law of england. having received the communion from mr fletcher, chaplain of the admiral's ship, in which captain drake participated along with him; and after embracing drake, and taking leave of all the company, mr doughty prayed fervently for the welfare of the queen and whole realm, then quietly laid his head on the block. the general then made a speech to the whole company assembled, exhorting them to unity and obedience, sacredly protesting that he had great private affection for mr doughty, and had been solely actuated in condemning him to an ignominious death, by his care for the welfare of the voyage, the satisfaction of her majesty, and the honour of his country. leaving this place on the th august, they fell in with the eastern entrance of the straits of magellan on the th of that month. the st they entered the straits, which they found very intricate, with various crooked turnings; owing to which, having often to shift their course, the wind was frequently adverse, making their passage troublesome and dangerous, especially in sudden blasts of wind; for, although there were several good harbours, the sea was too deep for anchorage, except in some narrow creeks or inlets, or between rocks. on both sides of the straits, there are vast mountains covered with snow, their tops reaching in many places to great heights, having often two or three ranges of clouds below their summits. the air in the straits was extremely cold, with almost continual frost and snow; yet the trees and plants retained a constant verdure, growing and flourishing in spite of the severity of the climate. at the south and east parts of the straits there are various islands, through between which the sea breaks in, as at the main entrance. the breadth of the straits in some places was only a league, which was the narrowest, but in most places two, and in some three leagues across. the th august, they came to an island in the straits, where they found vast quantities of penguins, a sort of water fowl, as large as a goose, but which does not fly, and of which they killed in less than a day. section iii. _incidents of the voyage, from the straits of magellan to new albion._ the th september, they reached the western extremity of the straits, and entered into the great south sea or pacific ocean. on the th, the fleet encountered a storm, by which they were driven one degree to the southwards of the straits, and more than leagues in longitude back from that entrance.[ ] they were driven even so far as the lat. of ° ' s. where they anchored among the islands, finding good fresh water and excellent herbs.[ ] not far from thence, they entered another bay, where they found naked people, ranging about the islands in canoes, in search of provisions, with whom they had some intercourse by way of barter. continuing their course towards the north, they discovered three islands on the d october, in one of which there was an incredible number of birds. on the th october, they lost company of the elizabeth, the vice admiral, commanded by captain winter. at his return home, they found that mr winter had been forced to take refuge from the storm in the straits, whence he returned to england, though many of us feared he and his people had perished. [footnote : this is a gross error, probably a misprint for leagues of longitude, as the quantity in the text would have driven them far to the eastwards of the straits, into the atlantic, which is impossible, the whole of tierra del fuego being interposed.--e.] [footnote : this too is erroneous, as cape horn, not then known, is only in lat. ° ' ' s.] having now got back to the western entrance of the straits, they made sail for the coast of chili, which the general maps represented as trending n.w. but which they found to the east of n. so that these coasts had not been fully discovered, or very inaccurately represented, for the space of degrees at least, either for the purpose to deceive, or through ignorance. proceeding northwards along the coast of chili, they came to the island of mocha, in ° ' s. latitude, on the th november, where they cast anchor. the admiral went here ashore with ten men, and found the island inhabited by a people who had fled from the extreme cruelty of the spaniards, leaving their original habitations on the continent, to enjoy their lives and liberties in security. these people at first behaved civilly to the admiral and his men, bringing them potatoes and two fat sheep, promising also to bring them water, and they received some presents in return. next day, however, when two men went ashore with barrels for water, the natives suddenly assailed and killed them. the reason of this outrage was, that they mistook the english for spaniards, whom they never spare when they fall into their hands. continuing their course along the coast of chili, they met an indian in a canoe, who mistook them for spaniards, and told them of a great spanish ship at st jago, laden for peru. rewarding him for this intelligence, the indian conducted them to where the ship lay at anchor, in the port of valparaiso, in lat. ° ' s.[ ] all the men on board were only eight spaniards and three negroes, who, supposing the english to have been friends, welcomed them with beat of drum, and invited them on board to drink chili wine. the english immediately boarded and took possession; when one of the spaniards leapt overboard, and swam ashore to give notice of the coming of the english. on this intelligence, all the inhabitants of the town, being only about nine families, escaped into the country. the admiral and his men landed, and rifled the town and its chapel, from which they took a silver chalice, two cruets, and an altar cloth. they found also in the town a considerable store of chili wine, with many boards of cedar wood, all of which they carried on board their ships. then setting all the prisoners on shore, except one named john griego, born in greece, who was detained as a pilot, the admiral directed his course for lima, the capital of peru, under the guidance of this new pilot. [footnote : more correctly, ° ' " s. and long. ° ' " w. from greenwich.--e.] being now at sea, they examined the booty in their prize, in which they found , pezos of pure gold of baldivia, amounting to above , spanish ducats. continuing their course for lima, they put into the harbour of coquimbo, in lat. ° ' s. where the admiral sent fourteen men on shore for water. this small company being espied by the spaniards, they collected horse and foot, and slew one of the englishmen, the rest getting back to the ship. from thence they went to a port named _taropaca_ in peru, in lat ° ' s. where landing, a spaniard was found asleep on the shore, having eighteen bars of silver lying beside him, worth about spanish ducats, which they carried away, leaving him to his repose. going again on shore, not far from thence, in search of water, they met a spaniard and an indian, driving eight peruvian sheep, laden with fine silver, each sheep having two leather bags on his back, in each of which were about fifty pounds weight. these they carried on board, finding in the whole of these bags pounds weight of silver. from thence they went to _arica_, in lat. ° ' s. in which port they plundered three small barks of fifty-seven bars of silver, each bar being in shape and size like a brick-bat, and weighing about twenty pounds. not having sufficient strength, they did not assault the town, but put again to sea, where they met another small bark, laden with linen, part of which was taken out, and the bark dismissed. they came to calao, the port of lima, in lat. ° ' s. on the th february, , where they found twelve ships at anchor, with all their sails down, without watch or guard, all their masters and merchants being on shore. on examining the contents of these ships, they found a chest full of dollars, with great store of silks and linen, and carried away all the silver, and part of the other goods to their own ships. here the admiral got notice of a very rich ship, called the cacafuego, which had sailed for paita, in lat. ° ' s. pursuing her thither, they learnt, before arriving at paita, that she had sailed for panama. in continuing the pursuit to panama, they took another, which paid them well for their trouble; as, besides her ropes and other tackle, she yielded eighty pounds weight of gold, together with a large golden crucifix, richly adorned with emeralds. continuing to pursue the cacafuego, the admiral promised to give his gold chain to the first person who descried the chase, which fell to the share of mr john drake, who first discovered her, one morning about three o'clock. they came up with her about six, gave her three shots, which struck down her mizen-mast, and then boarded. they found this ship fully as rich as she was reported, having thirteen chests full of dollars, eighty pounds weight of gold, a good quantity of jewels, and twenty-six tons of silver in bars.[ ] among other rich pieces of plate found in this ship, there were two very large gilt silver bowls, which belonged to her pilot. on seeing these, the admiral said to the pilot, that these were fine bowls, and he must needs have one of them; to which the pilot yielded, not knowing how to help himself; but, to make this appear less like compulsion, he gave the other to the admiral's steward. the place where this rich prize was taken was off cape san francisco, about leagues from panama, and in lat. ° n. [ ° '.] when the people of the prize were allowed to depart, the pilot's boy told the admiral, that the english ship ought now to be called the _cacafuego_, not theirs, as it had got all their rich loading, and that their unfortunate ship ought now to be called the _cacaplata_, which jest excited much mirth.[ ] [footnote : without calculating on the jewels, for which there are no data, the silver and gold of this prize could hardly fall short of , _l_--worth more than a million, in effective value, of the present day.--e.] [footnote : this forecastle joke turns on the meaning of the words, cacafuego and cacaplata, meaning fartfire and fartsilver.--_harris_.] having ransacked the cacafuego of every thing worth taking, she was allowed to depart; and continuing their course westwards, they next met a ship laden with cotton goods, china dishes, and china silks. taking from the spanish owner a falcon of massy gold, having a large emerald set in his breast, and chasing such other wares as he liked, the admiral allowed this ship to continue her voyage, only detaining her pilot for his own use. this pilot brought them to the harbour of guatalca, in the town adjacent to which, he said, there were only seventeen spaniards. going there on shore, they marched directly to the town-house, where they found a judge sitting, and ready to pass sentence on a parcel of negroes, who were accused of plotting to set the town on fire. but the arrival of the admiral changed affairs, for he made both the judge and the criminals prisoners, and carried them all aboard the ships. he then made the judge write to the citizens, to keep at a distance, and make no resistance; after which the town was plundered, but the only thing valuable was about a bushel of spanish dollars, or rials of plate. one of the people took a rich spaniard fleeing out of town, who ransomed himself by giving up a gold chain and some jewels. at this place the admiral set some of his spanish prisoners ashore, together with the old portuguese pilot he took at the cape verd islands, and departed from thence for the island of cano. while there, he captured a spanish ship bound for the philippine islands, which he lightened of part of her merchandise, and allowed her to proceed. at this place the admiral landed every thing out of his own ship, and then laid her on shore, where she was repaired and graved; after which they laid in a supply of wood and water. thinking he had in some measure revenged the public injuries of his country upon the spaniards, as well as his own private losses, the admiral began to deliberate about returning home; but was in some hesitation as to the course he ought to steer. to return by the straits of magellan, the only passage yet discovered, he concluded would throw himself into the hands of the spaniards, who would probably there waylay him with a greatly superior force, having now only one ship left, which was by no means strong, though very rich.[ ] he therefore, on maturely weighing all circumstances, determined to proceed by way of the moluccas, and following the course of the portuguese, to get home by the cape of good hope. endeavouring to put this design in execution, but being becalmed, he found it necessary to steer more northwardly along the coast of america, in order to get a wind; in which view he sailed at least leagues, which was all the way he was able to make between the th of april and the d june. [footnote : we have no account of the loss of any of the squadron, except that the elizabeth was lost sight of after passing the straits of magellan. perhaps the other vessels had been destroyed, to reinforce the crew of the hind, weakened by the diseases incident to long voyages.--e.] on the th june, being in lat. ° n. they found the air excessively cold, and the severity of the weather almost intolerable; for which reason they returned along the coast to the southward, till in lat. ° n. where they found a very good bay, which they entered with a favourable wind.[ ] the english had here a good deal of intercourse with the natives, whose huts were scattered along the shores of this bay. these people brought presents of leathers and net-work to the admiral, who entertained them with so much kindness, that they were infinitely pleased. though the country is very cold, the natives contrive to erect their houses in a very ingenious manner to defend themselves from the severity of the weather. surrounding them by a deep trench, they raise great pieces of timber on its outer edge, which close all in a point at the top, like the spire of a steeple. their fire is in the middle of this conical hut, and they sleep on the ground strewed with rushes, around the fire. the men go naked, but the women wear a kind of petticoat of bull-rushes, dressed in the manner of hemp, which is fastened round their waists, and reaches down to their hips; having likewise a deer-skin on their shoulders. the good qualities of these women make amends for their ordinary dress and figure, as they are very dutiful to their husbands. [footnote : this bay of sir francis drake, on the western coast of north america, is nearly in lat ° n. as stated in the text, and long. ° ' w. from greenwich. it is now named by the spaniards, the bay of san francisco in california, on the southern side of which they have a mission of the same name--e.] soon after his arrival, the admiral received a present from the natives of feathers and bags of tobacco, which was given in much form by a numerous concourse of the indians. these convened on the top of a hill or rising ground, whence one of their number harangued the admiral, whose tent was pitched at the bottom of the hill. when this speech was ended, they all laid down their weapons on the summit of the hill, whence they descended and offered their presents, at the same time civilly returning those which the admiral had before given them. all this time the native women remained on the top of the hill, where they seemed as if possessed, tearing their hair, and howling in a most savage manner. this is the ordinary music of their sacrifices, something of that nature being then solemnizing. while the women above were thus serving the devil, the men below were better employed, in listening attentively to divine service, then performing in the admiral's tent these circumstances, though trivial in themselves, are important in ascertaining the first discovery of california by the english. news of the arrival of the english having spread about the country, two ambassadors came to the admiral, to inform him that the king was coming to wait upon him, and desired to have a token of peace, and assurance of safe conduct. this being given to their satisfaction, the whole train began to move towards the admiral, in good order, and with a graceful deportment. in front came a very comely person, bearing the sceptre before the king, on which hung two crowns, and two chains of great length. the crowns were made of net-work, ingeniously interwoven with feathers of many colours, and the chains were made of bones. next to the sceptre-bearer came the king, a very comely personage, shewing an air of majesty in all. this deportment, surrounded by a guard of tall martial-looking men, all clad in skins. then followed the common people, who, to make the finer appearance, had painted their faces, some black, and some of other colours. all of them had their arms full of presents, even the children not excepted. the admiral drew up all his men in line of battle, and stood ready to receive them within his fortifications. at some distance from him, the whole train of natives made a halt, all preserving the most profound silence, except the sceptre-bearer, who made a speech of half an hour. he then, from an orator, became a dancing-master, and struck up a song, being joined in both by the king, lords, and common people, who came all singing and dancing up to the fences which the admiral had thrown up. the natives then all sat down; and, after some preliminary compliments, the king made a solemn offer of his whole kingdom and its dependencies to the admiral, desiring him to assume the sovereignty, and professing himself his most loyal subject; and, that this might not seem mere empty compliment, he took off his illustrious crown of feathers from his own head, with the consent and approbation of all his nobles there present, and placing it on the head of the admiral, invested him with all the other ensigns of royalty, constituting the admiral, as far as in him lay, king of the whole country. the admiral, as her majesty's representative, accepted of this new-offered dignity in her name and behalf; as from this donation, whether made in jest or earnest, it was probable that some real advantage might redound hereafter to the english nation in these parts. after this ceremony, the common people dispersed themselves about the english encampment, expressing their admiration and respect for the english in a most violent and even profane manner, even offering sacrifices to them, as in the most profound devotion, till they were repressed by force, with strong expressions of abhorrence, and directed to pay their adorations to the supreme creator and preserver of all things, whom only they ought to honour with religious worship.[ ] [footnote : the whole of this story, of a king and his nobles, and the investiture of drake in the sovereignty of california, which he named new albion, is so completely absurd as not to merit serious observation.--e.] after this ceremony, the admiral and some of his people penetrated to some distance into the interior country, which they found to be extremely full of large fat deer, often seeing about a thousand in one herd. there were also such immense numbers of rabbits, that the whole country seemed one vast warren. these rabbits were of the size of those of barbary, having heads like our own rabbits in england, with feet like those of a mole, and long tails like rats. under the chin on each side, they have a bag or pouch in the skin, into which they store up any food they get abroad, which they there preserve for future use. their flesh is much valued by the natives, and their skins are made into robes for the king and nobles. this country seemed to promise rich veins of gold and silver; as wherever they had occasion to dig, they threw up some of the ores of these metals.[ ] partly in honour of england, and partly owing to the prospect of white cliffs which this country presented from the sea, the admiral named this region new albion. before his departure, he erected a monument, on which was a large plate, engraven with the name, picture, and arms of queen elizabeth, the title of her majesty to the sovereignty of the country, the time of its discovery, and drake's own name. in this country the spaniards had never had the smallest footing, neither had they discovered this coast of america, even for several degrees to the southwards of new albion. [footnote : this surely is a gross falsehood, as even the spaniards, so much experienced in mines of the precious metals, have found none in california, though possessing missions among its rude and scanty population in every corner, even in this very spot.--e.] section iv. _continuation of the voyage, from new albion to england._ sailing from this port of new albion, [now called by the spaniards the bay of san francisco,] they had no sight of land till the th october, , when, in the morning of that day, they fell in with certain islands in lat. ° n.[ ] they here met many canoes, laden with cocoa-nuts and other fruits. these canoes were very artificially hollowed, and were smooth and shining, like polished horn. their prows and sterns were all turned circularly inwards; and on each side there lay out two pieces of timber, or out-riggers, a yard and a half long, more or less, according the size of the canoes. they were of considerable height in the gunwales; and their insides were ornamented with white shells. the islanders in these canoes had large holes in the lower parts of their ears, which reached down a considerable way, by the weight of certain ornaments. their teeth were as black as jet, occasioned by chewing a certain herb with a sort of powder, which they always carry with them for that purpose.[ ] [footnote : these probably were some of the caralines, being in the direct route from port sir francis drake to the moluccas.--e.] [footnote : areka nut and betel leaf, with pounded shell-lime.--e.] the th october they came to other islands, some of which appeared to be very populous, and continued their course past the islands of _tagulada, zelon,_ and _zewarra._ the first of these produces great store of cinnamon; and the inhabitants are in friendship with the portuguese. without making any stop at these islands, the admiral continued his course, and fell in with the moluccas on the th november. intending to steer for tidore, and coasting along the island of motir, which belongs to the king of ternate, they met the viceroy of that king, who came fearlessly on board the admiral's ship. he advised the admiral by no means to prosecute his voyage to tidore, but to sail directly for ternate, as the king, his master, was a great enemy to the portuguese, and would have no intercourse with him, if at all connected with tidore or the portuguese. upon this, the admiral resolved on going to tidore, and came to anchor before the town early next morning. he immediately sent a messenger to the king, with a present of a velvet cloak, and to assure him that his only purpose in coming to his island was to trade in a friendly manner. by this time the viceroy had been to the king, whom he had disposed to entertain a favourable opinion of the english, so that the king returned a very civil and obliging answer, assuring the admiral that a friendly intercourse with the english was highly pleasing to him, his whole kingdom, and all that it contained, being at his service; and that he was ready to lay himself and his dominions at the feet of the glorious queen of england, and to acknowledge her as his sovereign. in token of all this, he sent his signet to the admiral, delivering it with much respect to the messenger, who was treated with great pomp and ceremony at court. having a mind to visit the admiral on board ship, the king sent before hand four large canoes, filled with his most dignified attendants, all in white dresses, and having large awnings of perfumed mats borne over their heads on a frame of canes or bamboos. they were surrounded by servants, all in white; outside of whom were ranks of soldiers, and beyond them were many rowers in well-contrived galleries, three of these on each side all along the canoes, raised one above the other, each gallery containing eighty rowers.[ ] these canoes were well furnished with warlike implements and all kind of weapons, both offensive and defensive, and were filled with soldiers well appointed for war. bowing near the ship in great order, they paid their reverence to the admiral, saying that their king had sent them to conduct his ship into a safer road than that it now occupied. [footnote : this surely is a great exaggeration, employing rowers to each canoe.--e.] the king himself came soon afterwards, attended upon by six grave and ancient persons. he seemed much delighted with english music, and still more with english generosity, which the admiral expressed in large presents to him and his attendants. the king promised to come aboard again next day, and that same night sent off great store of provisions, as rice, poultry, sugar, cloves, a sort of fruit called _frigo_, and _sago_, which is a meal made out of the tops of trees, melting in the mouth like sugar, and tasting like sour curds, but when made into cakes will keep fit for eating at the end of ten years. the king did not come on board next day, according to promise, but sent his brother to excuse him, and: to invite the admiral on shore, while he remained as a pledge for his safe return. the admiral declined going ashore himself, but sent some gentlemen of his retinue along with the king's brother, detaining the viceroy till their return. they were received on shore by another of the king's brothers with several nobles, and conducted in great state to the castle, where there was a court of at least a thousand persons, the principal of whom were sixty grave counsellors, and four turkish envoys dressed in scarlet robes and turbans, who were there to negociate trade between the turkish empire and ternate. the king came in under a glorious canopy, embroidered with gold, and guarded by twelve men armed with lances. he was dressed in a loose robe of cloth of gold, having his legs bare, but with leather shoes or slippers on his feet. several circular ornaments of gold were braided among his hair, a large chain of gold hung from his neck, and his fingers were adorned with rich jewels. a page stood at the right-hand side of his chair of state, blowing cool air upon him with a fan, two feet long and a foot broad, curiously embroidered, and enriched with sapphires. the english gentlemen were kindly received; and, having heard their message, he sent one of his counsellors to conduct them back to the ships. the king of ternate is a prince of great power, having seventy islands under his authority, besides ternate, which is the best of the molucca islands. his religion, and that of all his subjects, is mahometism, in obedience to which they keep the new moons and many fasts, during which they mortify the flesh all the day, but make up for their abstemiousness by feasting in the night. having dispatched all his affairs at ternate, the admiral left the place, and sailed to a small island to the southwards of celebes, where he remained twenty-six days. this island is all covered with wood, the trees being of large size, tall, straight, and without boughs, except at the top, the leaves resembling our english broom. there were here vast numbers of shining flies, no bigger than our common flies in england, which, skimming at night among the trees and bushes, made them appear as if all on fire. the bats in this island were as large as our ordinary poultry, and there was a sort of land cray-fish, which burrowed in the ground like rabbits, being so large that one of them was a sufficient meal for four persons. setting sail from thence, and being unable to proceed westwards on account of the wind, the course was altered to the southwards, yet with much danger, by reason of the shoals which lie thick among these islands. of this they had most dangerous and almost fatal experience on the th january, , by running upon a rock, on which they stuck fast from eight at night till four in the afternoon of next day. in this distress, the ship was lightened by landing three tons of cloves, eight pieces of ordnance, and some provisions on the rock; soon after which, by the wind chopping round, they happily got off. on the th of february, they fell in with the fruitful island of _baratene_,[ ] having in the mean time suffered much from cross winds and dangerous shoals. they met with a friendly reception from the people of this island, who were handsomely proportioned, and just in all their dealings. the men wore no cloathing, except a slight covering round their middles, but the women were covered from the waist to the feet, having likewise many large heavy bracelets of bone, horn, or brass, on their arms, the smallest weighing two ounces, and having eight or ten of these on at once. this island affords gold, silver, copper, sulphur, nutmegs, ginger, long-pepper, lemons, cocoas, frigo, sago, and other commodities, and linen was found to be in much request by the natives, as of it they make girdles and rolls for wearing on their heads. among the productions of this island, there was a particular sort of fruit, resembling barberries in size, form, and husk, very hard, yet of a pleasant taste, and becoming soft and easy of digestion when boiled. in short, they met with no place in the whole voyage that yielded greater abundance of every comfort than this island, excepting ternate. [footnote : no circumstance in the text serves to indicate what island is here meant, except that it appears to have been to the eastward of java.--e.] leaving baratene, they sailed to java major, where also they were courteously and honourably entertained. this island was ruled over by six kings, who lived in entire peace and amity with each other, and they once had four of them on board at one time, and very often two or three together.[ ] [footnote : the names of the kings or princes of java, when sir francis drake was there, were rajah donaw, r. rabacapala, r. bacabatra, r. tymbanton, r. mawgbange, and r, patemara.--_hakluyt_.] the javans are a stout and warlike people, well armed with swords, targets, and daggers, all of their own manufacture, and are very curious and ingenious, both in the fashion of their weapons, and in giving them an excellent temper. they wear turbans on their heads, the upper parts of their bodies being naked; but, from the waist downwards, they have a pintado, or a silken wrapper, trailing on the ground. they manage their women quite differently from the moluccans; for, while these will hardly let them be seen by a stranger, the javans will very civilly offer a female bedfellow to a traveller. besides being thus civil and hospitable to strangers, they are good humoured and sociable among themselves; for in every village they have a public-house, where the inhabitants meet together, each bringing their shares of provisions, and joining the whole in one social feast for the keeping up of good fellowship. the javans have a peculiar mode of boiling rice. it is put into an earthen pot of a conical form, open at the large end, and perforated all over with small holes, which is placed within a larger earthen pot full of boiling water. the rice swells and fills the holes of the inner pot, so that very little water gets in, and by this mode of boiling the rice is brought to a firm consistency, and cakes into a sort of bread, of which, with butter or oil, sugar, and spices, they make several very pleasant dishes. the lues venerea prevails among the inhabitants of this island; but, instead of expelling the poison by salivation, they drive it out by perspiration, sitting for this purpose in the sun for some hours, by which the pores are opened, giving free vent to the noxious particles of the disease. while in java, the following words in the native language were taken notice of, and are recorded by hukluyt. sabuck, silk. gula, black sugar. sagu, bread. tadon, a woman. larnike, drink. bebeck, a duck. paree, rice in the husk. aniange, a deer. braas, boiled rice. popran, ointment. calapa, cocoa nuts. coar, the head. cricke, a dagger. endam, rain. catcha, a mirror. jonge, a ship. arbo, an ox. chay, the sea. vados, a goat. sapelo, ten. gardunge, a plantain. dopolo, twenty. hiam, a hen. treda no. seuit, linen. lau, understand you? doduck, blue cloth. bayer, go! totoppo, a cap. adadizano, i will fetch it. cabo, gold. suda, enough. having news of some great ships being at no great distance, and not knowing whether they might prove friends or enemies, the admiral set sail from java, sailing directly for the cape of good hope, which was the first land he fell in with; neither did he touch at any, till he arrived at sierra leona on the coast of guinea. he passed the cape on the th june, , and by the facility of the navigation round that southern promontory of africa, found how much the portuguese had imposed upon the world by false representations of its horrors and dangers. he arrived at sierra leona on the d july, where were elephants, and abundance of oysters fastened on the twigs of trees, hanging down into the water, where they grow and multiply. with these, and lemons, with which they were abundantly supplied, his people were much refreshed. after two days stay at that place, taking in a supply of wood and water, and procuring refreshments, they sailed from thence on the th july. next day, they were in lat. ° ' n. under the tropic of cancer, fifty leagues from land. being completely supplied with all necessaries, they continued their voyage, without stopping any where, and arrived at plymouth on monday the th of september, , having been absent two years, nine months, and thirteen days. by their reckoning, the day of their arrival was only sunday the th, as in going completely round the world in the same course with the sun, that luminary had risen once seldomer to them than to those who remained stationary, so that they had lost a day in their computation. section v. _reception of sir francis drake in england, and same notices of his remaining actions_. the fame of his return from this wonderful voyage round the world soon spread over england, and all strove to express their sense of the worthiness of captain drake, by praises and other testimonies of regard. several collections were made of poems, epigrams, and songs, celebrating him and his ship in the highest strains. yet, in the midst of almost universal applause, some endeavoured to censure his conduct, and to place this great exploit in a wrong light. these persons alleged, that his circumnavigation of the globe served only to amuse the minds of the vulgar, while the main purpose of the voyage had been plunder, of which they pretended he had acquired sufficient to exempt the nation from taxes for seven years. they also set forth, as war had not been proclaimed against spain, that it was dangerous to own such an adventurer, lest the nation might be made to pay dearly for his prizes: for, as the merchants had great effects in spain, their goods might possibly be seized to make good his depredations. the spanish ambassador also assailed him with very warm memorials, styling him the master thief of the unknown world. the friends and patrons of drake, finding themselves wounded through his sides, took all manner of pains to vindicate his conduct, alleging that he had the queen's commission and authority to justify him in making reprisals; that by so much wealth as he had brought home the nation would be enriched; that the spaniards had already done us much injury; and, if the king of spain were disposed to seize the effects of our merchants, the public ought to receive this treasure as an equivalent; which, were it returned, would break the spirit of our brave tars, who otherwise were more likely to humble the pride of the spaniards. in the mean time, matters remained long in suspense, during which drake must have suffered considerable anxiety, lest, after all his toils abroad, he might be deemed a pirate at home. the queen long delayed to declare her sentiments, perhaps wishing to see what effects her conduct might have with the court of spain, which was probably withheld from precipitating hostilities, by the hope of being able to recover this great treasure. to keep up this hope, she artfully consented to part with some small sums to mendoza, the spanish ambassador. at length, matters coming to a crisis, she threw off the veil, and giving notice to captain drake of her intentions, she visited him on the th april, , on board his ship, then at deptford, where she was magnificently entertained; and, after dinner, she was graciously pleased to confer the honour of knighthood on captain drake, telling him that his actions did him more honour than the title she had conferred. a prodigious crowd attended the queen on this occasion, so that the bridge laid from the ship to the shore broke down with their weight, and more than persons fell into the thames, yet no one was drowned, or even materially hurt. after this public approbation from the sovereign, all ranks of people redoubled their congratulations, and henceforward the reputation of sir francis drake continually increased, so that he became a kind of oracle in maritime affairs, both to the nation and the court.--here, strictly speaking, we ought to conclude our account of this illustrious navigator; yet it may not be amiss to give a short sketch of his succeeding actions. the war with spain still continuing, he went out in , general by sea and land, of an expedition to the west indies, where he took the cities of st jago, st domingo, and carthagena, and the fort and town of st augustine; returning from this expedition with great glory and advantage, the profits amounting to £ , , after defraying all charges, of which £ , were divided among the seamen, and £ , came clear to the undertakers or adventurers. in , he had the command of another fleet, with which he sailed to the bay of cadiz, and thence to the tagus, where he destroyed , tons of shipping, which the king of spain had collected for the purpose of invading england. he likewise brought home the st philip, a very rich prize, said by the writers of these times to have been the first carack ever taken and brought home to england. in the glorious year , by commission from the queen, sir francis drake was appointed vice-admiral of the fleet of england, then fitted out for opposing the _invincible_ spanish armada. in this arduous service, on which the independence and existence of england depended, he performed even more than his former actions gave reason to expect. in the very beginning of the fight, he captured two very large ships of war, one commanded by the spanish vice-admiral oquendas, and the other by don pedro de valdez. this latter officer defended his ship with great gallantry for a long time; and at length, on surrendering, and delivering his sword to sir francis, he addressed him to the following effect: "that they had all resolved to have died fighting, if they had not fallen into his hands, whose valour and fortune were so great, that mars and neptune seemed to aid him in all his enterprises." to requite these spanish compliments with solid english kindness, sir francis lodged don valdez in his own cabin, and entertained him at his table. drake's crew were recompensed by the plunder of the spanish ship, in which were found , ducats in gold, which they joyfully shared. sir francis performed many other signal services on this memorable occasion against the armada, and particularly distinguished himself by advising the employment of fire-ships, which some have alleged he then invented. he was next year admiral of a great fleet, sent to portugal for the purpose of restoring don antonio to the throne of that kingdom. this expedition, though it did not succeed in its grand object, occasioned considerable damage to spain, on which it retorted the compliment of an invasion, and by which it was rendered unable to repeat another attempt of the same nature. on the whole, therefore, sir francis spoiled no less than three spanish invasions. in , he went upon another conjunct expedition against the spanish west indies, in which he performed signal services; but aiming at still greater, and being unsuccessful, he died in the harbour of porto bello, on the th of january, , as is said, of a broken heart, occasioned by his disappointment. his body, being put into a leaden coffin, was committed to the deep, under a general discharge of all the artillery of the fleet. in his person, though of low stature, sir francis drake was well made, with a fresh and fair complexion, having large lively eyes, light-brown hair, and an open cheerful countenance. he was naturally eloquent, gracefully expressing what he clearly conceived. he was thoroughly versant, not only in the practical part of his profession, but in all the sciences connected with it, being able to discharge all the offices necessary in a ship as occasion required, even that of the surgeon. in his conduct as a naval commander he was skilful and valiant, just to his owners, kind to his seamen, loyal to his sovereign, and merciful to his enemies after victory. his many glorious exploits justly entitle him to high fame; and he died, at fifty-five, in the ardent pursuit of glory, in the cause of his queen and country. * * * * * the fame of this voyage round the world, with the wealth brought home by sir francis drake, and the desire of rivalling him in riches and reputation, inspired numbers of young men of all ranks with the inclination of trying their fortunes at sea. men of rank and fortune fitted out ships at their own expence, manning them with their dependants. others, in lower situations, hazarded their persons as subaltern officers in these ships, or in men-of-war belonging to the queen. this spirit grew to such a height, that honest john stowe informs us that there were many youths, from eighteen to twenty years of age, towards the close of queen elizabeth's reign, who were capable of taking charge of any ship, and navigating to most parts of the world. so alarmed were the spaniards by the courage and conduct of sir francis, and his maritime skill, that they ordered that no draughts or discourses should be published of their discoveries in america, lest they might fall into his hands. what most surprised them was, that he should find his way so easily through the straits of magellan, which they had hitherto been unable to perform. they therefore resolved immediately to have these straits completely explored and discovered, by means of ships fitted out in peru. for this purpose, don pedro sarmiento, who was thought the best seaman in the spanish service, was sent from lima, and actually passed from the south sea into the atlantic, and thence to spain. he there proposed to plant a colony in the straits, and to fortify them in such a manner as might prevent all other nations from passing through them. this project was so well relished by philip ii that a fleet of twenty-three ships was fitted out, with , men, under the command of don diego floris de valdez; and sarmiento, with veterans, was appointed to form a settlement in the straits. this fleet was extremely unfortunate, insomuch that it was between two and three years before sarmiento arrived with his people in the straits of magellan. on the north side, and near the eastern entrance, he built a town and fort, which he named nombre de jesus, and in which he left a garrison of men. fifteen leagues farther on, at the narrowest part of the straits, and in lat. ° ' s.[ ] he established his principal settlement, which he named _ciudad del rey felippe_, or the city of king philip. this was a regularly fortified square fortress, having four bastions; and is said to have been in all respects one of the best-contrived settlements ever made by the spaniards in america. at this place sarmiento left a garrison of men and thirty women, with provisions for eight months, and then returned into the atlantic. these transactions took place in the years , , and . sarmiento, after several fruitless attempts to succour and relieve his colony, was taken by an english vessel, and sent prisoner to london. [footnote : the narrows of the hope are eighteen leagues of castile, or about forty-eight english miles from cape virgin, the northern cape at the eastern mouth of the straits, in lat. ° ' s. long. ° w. from greenwich.--e.] the spanish garrison, having consumed all their provisions, died mostly of hunger, perhaps aided by the scurvy, in their new city. twenty-three men quitted it, endeavouring to find their way by land to the spanish settlements, but are supposed to have all perished by the way, as they were never more heard of. sarmiento fell into discredit with the king of spain, for deceiving him as to the breadth of the straits, which he asserted did not exceed a mile over; whereas the king was certainly informed that they were a league broad, and therefore incapable of being shut up by any fortifications. however this may be, even supposing the report of sarmiento true, and that his fortress could have commanded the straits, even this could have proved of little or no service to spain, as another passage into the south sea was discovered soon afterwards, without the necessity of going near these straits. section vi. _first supplement to the voyage of sir francis drake; being on account of part of the foregoing navigation, by nuno da silva_.[ ] nuna da silva, born in oporto, a citizen and inhabitant of guaia, saith, that on the th january, , while at anchor with his ship in the harbour of st jago, one of the cape de verd islands, he was made prisoner by the admiral of six english ships, and detained because discovered to be a pilot for the coast of brazil. setting sail, therefore, with the said admiral from brava, they held their course for the land of brazil, which they descried on the first april, being in the latitude of ° s. whence they held on their course for the rio plata, where they provided themselves with fresh water. [footnote : hakluyt, iv. .--this narrative was written by nuno da silva, the portuguese pilot who accompanied sir francis drake from the cape verd islands to guatalco on the western coast of new spain, and was sent from the city of mexico to the viceroy of portuguese india, in .--e.] from thence they proceeded to the latitude of ° s. where they anchored. they here left two of their ships behind them, and continued on with four only, that which had formerly belonged to nuno being one of these. they next came into a bay, in lat. ° s. called _bahia de las ilhas_, or the bay of islands, where magellan is said to have wintered with his ships, when he went to discover the straits which now bear his name. they entered this bay on the th june, and anchored within musket-shot of the shore. they here found indians cloathed in skins, their legs downwards from the knees, and their arms below the elbows, being naked. these indians were a subtle, great, and well-formed race, strong, and tall in stature, being armed with bows and arrows. six of the english going here on shore to fetch water, four of the indians came into their boat before they landed, to whom the englishmen gave bread and wine; after eating and drinking of which heartily they went on shore, and when at some distance, one of them cried to them, and said, _magallanes! este he minha terra_; that is, magellan, this is my country. being followed by the sailors, they slew two of them with their arrows; one of whom was an englishman, and the other a hollander; on which the others made their escape to the boat, and put off from the shore. leaving this place on the th of august, they came to the mouth of the straits on the st or d, but did not enter them till the th, owing to the wind being contrary. the entry into the straits is about a league in breadth, both sides being naked flat land. some indians were seen on the north side, making great fires; but none appeared on the south side of the straits. this strait is about leagues long, and a league in breadth; and for about half-way through, is straight and without turnings; from thence, to about eight or ten leagues from the farther end, it has some capes and turnings, at one of which there is a great cape or head-land, which seems as if it went down to join the southern land; and here the passage is less than a league across, after which it again runs straight. although there are thus some crooks and turnings, none of them are of any importance, or any dangerous obstacle. the western issue of these straits, about eight or ten leagues before coming out, begins to grow broader, and is then all high-land on both sides to the end; as likewise all the way, after getting eight leagues in from the eastern entrance, the shores along these first eight leagues being low. in the entry to the straits, we found the stream to run from the south sea to the north sea, or atlantic. after beginning to sail into the straits, with the wind at e.n.e. they passed along without let or hindrance either of wind or weather, and because the land on both sides was high, and covered with snow, the whole navigation being fair and clear of shoals or rocks, they held their course the whole way within musket-shot of the north-side, having always nine or ten fathoms water on good ground; so that everywhere there was anchorage if need were. the hills on both sides were covered with trees, which in some places reached to the edge of the sea, where there were plains and flat lands. they saw not any large rivers, but some small brooks or streams that issued from rifts or clefts of the land. in the country beside the great cape and bending of the strait, some indians were seen on the south side, fishing in their skiffs or canoes, being similar to those formerly seen on the north side at the entrance into the straits; and these were the only natives seen on the south side during the whole passage. being out of the straits on the eastern side on the th of september, they held their course n.w. for three days, and on the third day they had a storm at n.e. which drove them w.s.w. for ten or twelve days with few sails up; after which, the storm increasing, they took in all their sails, and drove under bare poles till the th september. having lost sight of one of their ships, of about tons, and the wind growing more moderate, they hoisted sail, holding their course n.e. for seven days, at the end of which they came in sight of certain islands, for which they steered, meaning to have anchored among them, but the weather would not permit; and the wind coming n.w. they made sail to the w.s.w. next day they lost sight of another ship, in very foul weather; so that the admiral was now left alone, as my ship had been left in the bay where they remained some time before entering the straits. with this new storm of adverse wind, they had to proceed southwards, till they came into the latitude of ° s. where they entered a bay in an island, and anchored in twenty fathoms, about a cannon-shot from the shore. after remaining here three or four days, the wind changed to the south, and they again made sail to the northwards for two days, when a small uninhabited island was descried, where they procured many birds and seals. next day they again proceeded, holding their course n. and n.n.e. and came to the island of mocha, in ° s. five or six leagues from the main, where they anchored in twelve fathoms, a quarter of a league from the shore. this island is small and low land, all full of indians. here the admiral and twelve englishmen landed, on purpose to seek fresh water and provisions, and bought two sheep in exchange of other things from the indians, together with a little maize, and some roots of which the indians make bread; and being now late, went on board ship for the night. next day the admiral again landed with twelve men armed with muskets, and sent two men with vessels to fetch water. some indians lay in ambush at the watering-place, who suddenly fell upon the two englishmen, and made them prisoners; which being perceived by the admiral and those with him, they advanced to rescue their companions, but were so sore assailed by stones and arrows, that all or most of them were hurt, the admiral receiving two wounds from arrows, one in his face and the other on his head; so that they were compelled to retreat to their boat, without hurting any of the indians, who were so bold as even to carry away four of their oars. they sailed from hence along the coast to the northwards, with a southern wind, for six days, passing the harbour of st jago, and put into another haven, where they took an indian, who was fishing in a canoe, giving him some linen, knives, and other trifles. not long after there came another indian to the ship, whose name was felippe, and who spoke spanish. he gave notice to the english admiral of a certain ship being in the harbour of st jago, which they had overpassed six leagues. so, taking this indian as their guide, they went back to st jago, where they took the said ship, in which were _botijas_, or spanish pots, full of wine, besides other commodities. they then landed, and took a quantity of sacks of meal, and whatever else they could find, taking also the ornaments and relics from the church. they departed then from thence, taking with them the captured ship, with two of her men, running along the coast till they came to the latitude of between ° and ° s. where they had appointed to meet, in case of separation. they here anchored right over against a river, whence they filled six butts of fresh water, having twelve armed men on land to defend those who filled the casks. while busied in this work, they saw a company of armed men coming towards them, half spaniards and half indians, being about horse and as many foot, on which they made all haste to get into their boat, escaping with the loss of one man. they set sail again that same night, going about ten leagues farther along the coast, where they took in some more fresh water, but were soon obliged to quit this place also, by the appearance of some horsemen. proceeding thirty leagues farther along the coast, still to the northwards, they went into a bay or haven, in a desert or uninhabited place, but seeing some persons daily on the shore, they did not venture to land. at this place, the english put together the pieces of a small pinnace, which they had brought ready framed with them from england. having launched this pinnace, the english captain went into her with fifteen men, accompanied by john the greek, who was chief boatswain, being master of the ship formerly taken in the harbour of st jago. at this time they went to look for the two vessels they had parted from formerly in a storm, and also in hopes of being able to procure fresh water; but seeing always persons on shore, they durst not land, and returned again to the ship without hearing of their other ships. they now took all the ordnance out of their ship, and new dressed and rigged her; after which, arming the pinnace with a small piece of ordnance, they resumed their course to the northwards. having sailed thirteen days, they came to an island about the shot of a culverin from the main, where four fishermen told them of fresh water on the main; but understanding it was but scanty, and somewhat distant from the shore, they continued their course. next day they espied some fishers houses on shore, when the english captain landed and took three of the fishers, taking away half of the fish that lay packed on the shore. the day following they took a bark laden with fish belonging to the spaniards, in which were four indians, and bound it by a rope to the stem of their ships; but the indians in the night cut her loose, and went away. next day the english captain went ashore to certain houses, where he found pezos of silver, each being equal to a rial of eight, or spanish dollar; getting also seven indian sheep, some hens, and other articles, all of which he brought on board, and resumed his voyage. two days after, going to the harbour of arica, they found two ships, one of which was laden with goods and spanish wares, out of which they only took botijas, or pots of wine, and from the other thirty-seven bars of silver, each weighing ten or twelve pounds. they meant also to have landed at this place; but seeing some horsemen coming towards them, they desisted. next morning they burnt the ship which was laden with spanish wares, and took the other along with them, continuing their course, the captain sailing along shore in the pinnace, while the ship kept about a league farther out to sea, going in search of a ship of which they had intelligence. after sailing in this manner about forty-five leagues, they found the ship of which they were in search, at anchor in a haven; but having intelligence a few hours before, of an english pirate or sea-rover, she had landed bars of silver belonging to the king of spain; but the english durst not go on shore to search for it, as many spaniards and indians stood there as a well-armed guard. they found nothing, therefore, in this ship except three pipes of water. taking this ship out to sea about a league, they hoisted all her sails and let her drive, doing the like with the ship they took at arica, and that also they had taken at st jago, continuing their course with their own ship and pinnace. when about seven leagues from calao de lima, they spied three ships, one of which they boarded, and took three men out of her, and then continued their course for calao, which haven they entered about two or three hours after night-fall, sailing in among the middle of seventeen ships which lay there at anchor. being among these ships, they enquired for the ship which had the silver on board; but learning that all the silver had been carried on shore, they cut the cables of all the ships and the masts of the two largest, and so left them. at this time, there arrived a ship from panama, laden with spanish wares and merchandise, which anchored close by the english ship, while the english captain was searching among the other ships for the silver. when the ship of panama was anchored, a boat came off from the shore to examine her, but coming in the dark to the english ship, was told by one of the spanish prisoners she was the ship of michael angelo from chili; on which one of the spaniards from the boat came up the side, but coming upon one of her cannon, he was afraid and they made off, as the ships in these seas carry no guns. the panama ship hearing of this, cut her cables and put to sea; which being perceived by the english, who were close by, they followed in their pinnace. on getting up with her, the english called out for them to surrender, but the spaniards killed one of their men by a musket-shot, on which the pinnace returned. the english ship then set sail and overtook the spanish ship, when the crew took to their boat and escaped on shore, leaving their ship to the english, who took her, and continued her course to the northwards. next day the english saw a boat under sail making towards them, which they suspected to be a spy, and soon afterwards perceived two great ships coming to meet them, which they supposed had been sent on purpose to fight them. on this they cast loose the panama ship, in which they left john the greek and two men they had taken the night before in calao harbour; and then made all sail, not once setting eye again upon the two great ships, which made direct for the panama ship. the english continued their course to the northwards along the coast; and some days afterwards met a frigate or small vessel bound for lima, laden with wares and merchandise of the country, whence the english took a lamp and fountain of silver. they enquired of the people in this ship if they had met a ship, which they understood was laden with silver; on which one pilot said he had not seen any such, while another said he had met her about three days before. this frigate was taken by the pinnace, in which the english captain sailed close by the shore, the english ship keeping about a league and a half from land. on receiving this information, the english let the frigate go, and continued their course to the northwards. two days afterwards, they came to the harbour of payta, where they found a ship laden with spanish wares, which was boarded and taken by the pinnace, without resistance, most of the crew escaping on shore. from this ship, the english took the pilot, with all the bread and other provisions. about two days after, they boarded a ship belonging to panama, from which they only took a negro. next day, being the st february, they met another ship of panama, laden with fish and other victuals, having also forty bars of silver and some gold, but i know not how much, which they took, sending the passengers in a boat to the land, among whom were two friars. next day, the english captain hanged a man of the panama ship, for secreting two plates of gold, which were found about him, after which that ship was turned adrift. towards noon of the st march, they descried the ship laden with silver, being then about four leagues to seawards of them: and, as the english ship sailed somewhat heavily, being too much by the head, they hung a quantity of botijas, or spanish earthen pots which had contained oil, and now filled with water, over the stern of their ship, to give her a better trim and to improve her sailing. the treasure ship, thinking the english vessel had been one of those which usually sail upon that coast, made towards her, and when near, the english captain hailed her to surrender: as the spanish captain refused, the english fired some cannons, by one of which the spanish ship's mast was shot over board, and her master being wounded by an arrow, she presently yielded. thereupon the english took possession of her, and sailed with her directly out to sea all that night, and the next day and night. being entirely out of sight of land, they began to search their prize on the third day, removing her cargo into their own ship, being bars or wedges of silver, and fourteen chests of rials of eight, besides some gold, but how much of that i know not, only that the passengers said there was great store. they told me also, that of the silver bars belonged to the king, and all the rest to the merchants. that done, they allowed the ship to go away with all her men, putting into her the three pilots they had hitherto carried with them. from thence they sailed onwards for nicaragua, and descried land about the th march, being an island named canno, not very high, about two leagues from the main land, where they found a small bay, in which they anchored in five fathoms close to the shore, remaining there till the th. on that day a bark passed close to the land, which was captured by the english pinnace, being laden with sarsaparilla, and botijas or pots of butter and honey, with other things. throwing all the sarsaparilla overboard, the english removed all their cannon into this bark, and then laid their own ship on shore to new caulk and trim her bottom. this being done, and taking in a supply of wood and water, they held their course along shore to the westwards, taking the spanish bark along with them. after two days, they removed the men from her, giving them the pinnace. among these were four sailors, bound for panama, meaning to go thence for china, one of whom had many letters and patents, among which were letters from the king of spain to the governor of the philippines, as also the charts which are used in that voyage. continuing their course, the english descried, on the th of april, a ship about two leagues out to sea, which they took early next morning, in which was don francisco xarate. continuing their course, they came to the haven of guatalco on monday the th april, where they remained at anchor till the th of that month, on which day they sailed to the westwards, putting me, nuno da silva, on board a ship then in the said harbour of guatalco. section vii. _second supplement, being the voyage of mr john winter, after parting from sir francis drake_.[ ] we passed cape deseado into the south sea on the th september, , and run to the n.w. about leagues, when the wind turned directly against us, with extremely foul weather, as rain, hail, snow, and thick fogs, and so continued for more than three weeks, during which time we could bear no sail, and were driven into the latitude of ° s. on the th september, the moon was eclipsed, beginning to be darkened immediately after sun-set, about six in the evening, being then the vernal equinox in this southern hemisphere. this eclipse happened in england on the th before one in the morning, which is about six hours difference, agreeing to one quarter of the circumference of the globe, from the meridian of england to the west. [footnote : hakluyt, iv. .--this narrative is said to have been written by edward cliffe, mariner. only so much of the narrative is given here as relates to the voyage of winter, after parting from sir francis drake. one circumstance only may be mentioned, respecting the patagons.--"these men be of no such stature as the spaniards report, being but of the height of englishmen; for i have seen men in england taller than i could see any of them. peradventure the spaniards did not think that any englishmen would have come hither so soon, to have disproved them in this and divers others of their notorious lies; wherefore they presumed more boldly to abuse the world."--yet even recent voyagers have presumed to _abuse the world_, with reporting that the patagons are of gigantic stature.--e.] the last of september, being a very foul night, we lost the marigold, a bark of about thirty tons, the pelican, which was our general's ship, and our ship the elizabeth running to the eastwards, to get to the land. of this we got sight on the th october, falling into a very dangerous bay, full of rocks; and that same night we lost company of mr drake. next day, very difficultly escaping from the dangerous rocks among which we were embayed, we got again into the straits of magellan, where we anchored in an open bay for two days, making great fires on the shore, that mr drake might find us, if he also came into the straits. we then went into a sound, where we remained about three weeks, naming it _the port of health_, as most of our men, having been sick with long watching, wet, cold, and bad diet, did wonderfully recover their health here in a short space, for which praised be god. we found here muscles of very great size, some being twenty inches long, yielding very pleasant meat, and many of them full of seed pearls. we came out of this harbour on the st november, abandoning our voyage by compulsion of mr. winter, sore against the will of the mariners. mr. winter alleged that he despaired of having winds to carry him to the coast of peru, and was also in fear that mr. drake had perished. so we went back again to the eastwards through the straits, to st. george's island, where we laid in a quantity of a certain kind of fowl, very plentiful in that island, the meat of which is not much unlike that of a fat english goose. they have no wings, but only short pinions, which serve them in swimming, being of a black colour, mixed with white spots on their bellies and round their necks. they walk so upright, that they seem afar like little children; and when approached they conceal themselves in holes under ground, not very deep, of which the island is full. to take them, we used sticks having hooks fastened at one end, with which we pulled them out, while other men stood by with cudgels to knock them on the head; for they bit so cruelly with their hooked bills, that we could not handle them when alive.[ ] [footnote : it is almost unnecessary to remark that these were penguins.--e.] departing from st. george's island, we passed cape virgin[ ] on the th november, going out of the straits into the southern atlantic ocean, and directed our course to the n.e. till the last day of that month, when we arrived at an island in the mouth of the _rio de la plata_, or river of silver. on this island there is an incredible number of seals, some of which are sixteen feet long, not fearing the approach of men. most of our men were ashore in this island for fifteen days, setting up a pinnace; during which time the seals would often come and sleep beside our men, rather resisting them than giving place, unless when mortal blows forced them to yield. having finished our pinnace, we went to another island, where we watered, and afterwards departed on the st january, . we went to the northwards till the th of that month, when we came to an island on the coast of brazil, near a town called st vincent, inhabited by the portuguese, which is in lat. ° s. here we lost our pinnace in foul weather, together with her crew of eight men. and here also our ship was in great danger, in consequence of a strong current, which almost forced her on shore before we were aware, so that we had to drop anchor in the open sea, broke our cable and lost our anchor, and had to let fell another, in weighing which afterwards our men were sore distressed; for, owing to the heaving of the ship with the sea, the capstan ran round with so much violence as to throw the men from the bars, dashed out the brains of one man, broke the leg of another, and severely hurt several more. at length we hove up our anchor, and ran to a place called tanay. where we rode under the lee of an island, whence we had a supply of wood and water. [footnote : called cape victory by mr cliffe.--e.] while at this place, three portuguese came aboard in a canoe, desiring to know who we were and what we wanted. our captain made answer, that we were englishmen, and had brought commodities with us for their country, if they would trade with us, at which they seemed much surprised, as they said they had never before heard of any english ship being in that country. so they went ashore, taking one of our men with them to speak with the governor of the town, while we detained one of the portuguese as a pledge. soon after there came another canoe on board, in which was one portuguese, all the rest being naked natives of the country. from this man we had two small oxen, a young hog, and several fowls, with pome-citrons, lemons, oranges, and other fruits, for which our captain gave them linen cloth, combs, knives, and other articles of small value. in the mean time, the governor of the town sent word that we should have nothing, unless the ship was brought into the harbour, to which our captain would not consent, lest they might betray us. receiving back our man, and returning the portuguese pledge, we went afterwards to the island of st. sebastian, where we took fish. at this place the portuguese would have betrayed us, had not a brasilian slave informed us by signs, that they were coming in canoes to take us, as it actually fell out: for, next morning, they came on in twelve or fourteen canoes, some of these having forty men; but being on our guard they retired. that same night, two of our men carried away our boat, deserting to the portuguese. leaving this place, we had sight of cape st augustine in lat. ° s. we afterwards had sight of the isle of fernando noronha, within three degrees of the equator. we crossed the line on the th of april, and got sight of the north star on the th of that month. from the st to the th of may, we sailed about leagues through the _sea of weeds_, under the tropic of cancer. holding our course from thence to the n.e. till we were in lat. ° n. we changed our course on the nd may to e.n.e. the th of may we had soundings in seventy fathoms on white ooze, being then in lat. ° n. the th of may we got sight of st ives on the north coast of cornwall, and arrived on the nd of june at ilfracomb, in devonshire. chapter iii. voyage of sir thomas candish round the world, in -- .[ ] introduction. it was the constant policy, during the reign of queen elizabeth, to encourage, as much as possible, the flame of public spirit in private individuals, by shewing the utmost readiness on all occasions to honour all who performed any remarkable service to their country, though sparing of such marks of favour on other occasions. by this wise conduct, and by her frequent public discourses on the glory resulting from an active life, she excited many of the young nobility, and gentlemen of easy fortunes, to hazard their persons and estates in the public service, exciting a desire of fame even among the wealthy, and by this means uniting the rich, who desired to purchase honour, and the indigent, who sought to procure the means of living, in the same pursuits. it thus happened in her reign, that such men were of most use to their country, as are scarcely of any utility in other reigns; for, merit being then the only recommendation at court, those were most forward to expose themselves in generous undertakings, who would at any other time have thought themselves excused from such dangers and fatigues. [footnote : hakluyt, iv. . harris, col. i. . callender, voy. i. . the earliest account of this voyage, according to the bibliotheque universelle des voyages, i. , appears to have been published in dutch at amsterdam, in folio, in . but must assuredly have been a translation from the english.--e.] thus the earls of cumberland and essex, sir richard greenvile, sir walter raleigh, sir humphrey gilbert, sir robert dudley, and, many other persons of rank and fortune, employed great sums of money, and exposed themselves to the greatest dangers, in expeditions against the spaniards, making discoveries in distant parts of the world, and planting colonies, which were the glory of those times. among these, no one distinguished himself more than the gentleman whose voyage forms the subject of this chapter: whether we consider the expence he incurred, the difficulties he encountered, or the success of his enterprise; all of which proceeded from that greatness of mind and ardent desire of fame, which taught him to despise danger and to encounter fatigue, at an age when most men of fortune think the season of youth a sufficient excuse for the indulgence of luxury and ease. thomas candish, or cavendish, of trimley, in the county of suffolk, esquire, was a gentleman of an honourable family and large estate, which lay in the neighbourhood of ipswich, then a place of very considerable trade. this circumstance gave him an early inclination for the sea, which he gratified as soon as he came of age, by selling part of his estate, and employing the money in equipping a stout bark of tons, called the tiger, in which he accompanied sir richard greenvile in his voyage to virginia in . in this expedition he underwent many dangers and difficulties, without any profit, but returned safe to falmouth on the th october of the same year. this want of success did not discourage him from undertaking still greater and more hazardous expeditions. having, in his voyage to virginia, seen a considerable part of the spanish west indies, and conversed with some persons who had sailed with sir francis drake in, his circumnavigation, he became desirous of undertaking a similar voyage, as well for repairing the loss he had sustained in this first expedition, as to emulate that great and fortunate commander, who was now raised to the highest honours in his profession. returning home, therefore, he immediately applied himself to make such preparations as were necessary for the accomplishment of his new design; and either sold or mortgaged his estate, to procure a sufficient sum for building and equipping two such ships as he deemed requisite for the voyage; using such diligence, that his carpenters were at work upon his largest ship within a month, and in six months more his little squadron was entirely finished, and completely supplied with every necessary for the voyage. the narrative of this voyage is chiefly taken from that given by harris, compared and corrected from that in the collection of hakluyt, which is said to have been written by mr. francis pretty of eye, in suffolk, a gentleman who sailed, in the expedition. in hakluyt, this circumnavigation is thus styled:--"the admirable and prosperous voyage of the worshipful mr. thomas candish of trimley, in the county of suffolk, esquire, into the south sea, and from thence round about the circumference of the whole earth, began in the year of our lord , and finished ." section i. _narrative of the voyage from england to the pacific_. the larger ship of this little squadron was named the desire, of tons burden, and the lesser the content of tons, to which was added a bark of tons, called the hugh gallant, all supplied at his own expence with two years provisions, and manned with officers and men, most of them men of experience, and some of whom had served under sir francis drake. for their better encouragement, he entered into a fair agreement with them, with respect to the proportions in which all prizes should be shared among them. he was likewise careful in providing maps, sea charts, and draughts, and all such accounts as could be procured of voyages already made into those parts which he intended to visit. likewise, by means of his patron, lord hansdon, the lord-chamberlain, he procured a commission from queen elizabeth. having thus completed his preparations, he set out from london on the th july, , for harwich, where he embarked in the desire, and sailed thence for plymouth, where he arrived on the th, and waited there for some of his company till the st of that month, when he hoisted sail on his intended voyage. on the th of that month, one mr. hope died, of a wound received in a duel, during their stay at plymouth. next day, they fell in with five ships of biscay, well manned, coming, as they supposed, from the great bank of newfoundland, which attacked the desire; but mr. candish gave them so warm a reception, that they were glad to sheer off, and continued their course without giving him any farther disturbance. as it grew dark, and he feared losing sight of his consorts, mr. candish did not continue the chase. they fell in with the island of fuertaventura, on the st august, whence they sailed for rio del oro and cape blanco, and thence along the coast of guinea, with which navigation mr brewer, who sailed in the desire, was well acquainted. the men now began to complain much of the scurvy, wherefore it was resolved to put them on shore for their recovery on the first opportunity. they made sierra leona on the d of august, and reached its southern side on the th, where they had five fathoms at the lowest ebb; having had for about fourteen leagues, while running into this harbour, from eight to sixteen fathoms. at this place they destroyed a negro town, because the inhabitants had killed one of their men with a poisoned arrow. some of the men went four miles up the harbour in a boat, on the d september, where they caught plenty of fish; and going on shore, procured some lemons. they saw also some buffaloes, on their return to the ship. the th they went out of the harbour of sierra leona, and staid one tide three leagues from the point at its mouth, the tide there flowing s.w. the th they departed for one of the islands which lie about ten leagues from the point of sierra leona, called the banana isles,[ ] and anchored that same day off the principal isle, on which they only found a few plantains. at the east end of this island they found a town, but no inhabitants, and concluded that the negroes sometimes resort thither, by seeing the remains of their provisions. there is no fresh water on the south side of this island that they could find; but there is in three or four places on its north side. the whole island was one entire wood, except a few small cleared spots where some huts stood, and these were encompassed by plantain-trees, the fruit of which is an excellent food. this place is subject to severe thunder-storms, with much rain, in september. [footnote : harris erroneously names these the islands of cape verd, which are at a vast distance from sierra leona. the banana isles are in lat. ° n. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich. in hakluyt these are called the isles of madrabumba, and are said to be ten leagues from the point of sierra leona.--e.] leaving these islands and the african coast on the th september, and holding their course w.s.w. obliquely across the atlantic, they fell in with a great mountain in brazil, on the st of october, twenty-four leagues from cape _frio_. this mountain has a high round top, shewing from afar like a little town. on the st november, they stood in between the island of st sebastian and the main; where they carried their things on shore, and erected a forge, and built a pinnace, repairing also every thing that was out of order, in which work they were detained till the d of november. sailing from this place on the th, they fell in with the coast of south america again in lat. ° ' s. whence they proceeded along shore till they came to lat. ° s. finding a steep beach all along. on the th of november they came to a harbour, into which candish first entered, giving it the name of port desire, from that of his ship.[ ] near this harbour they found an island or two well stocked with seals, and another in which there were vast numbers of grey gulls.[ ] [footnote : as laid down in modern maps, the latitude of port desire is only ° ' s.] [footnote : probably penguins.--e.] this haven of port desire was found very favourable for careening and graving of ships, as the tide there ebbed and flowed considerably. at this place the savages wounded two of the englishmen with their arrows, which were made of canes or reeds, tipt with sharpened flints. these savage natives of the country round port desire were exceedingly wild and rude, and as it would seem of a gigantic race, as the measure of one of their foot marks was eighteen inches long.[ ] this agrees well with the assertion of magellan, though some pains have been taken to represent that as fabulous. magellan called this country patagonia, and its inhabitants patagons, meaning to signify that they were five cubits, or _seven feet and a half high_. hence, as the portuguese are not commonly very tall, we need not wonder if they styled them giants. if we take the usual proportion of the human foot, as between a fifth and a sixth part of the height of the whole body, the account given by magellan agrees very exactly with this fact afforded us by mr candish; and it will be seen in the sequel, that this is not falsified by any of our subsequent navigators. when any of these savages die, he is buried in a grave constructed of stones near the sea-side, all his darts being fastened about his tomb, and his treasure, consisting of shells, laid under his head. [footnote : without meaning to impugn the received opinion, that the patagons are beyond the ordinary size of man, it may be permitted to say, that the evidence, in the text, the only one here adduced, is altogether inconclusive; and the subsequent reflections are evidently those of harris, not of candish.--e.] they left port desire on the th december, and anchored near an island three leagues to the southward. the th they came to a rock, much like the eddystone at plymouth, about five leagues off the land, in lat ° ' s. and within a mile of it had soundings in eight fathoms, on rocky ground. continuing their course along shore s.s.w. they found vast numbers of seals every where on the coast. january d, , they fell in with a great white cape in lat. ° s. and had seven fathoms within a league of the cape. next day they came to another cape, in lat. ° ' s. whence runs a long beach about a league to the southwards, reaching to the opening into the straits of magellan.[ ] january th, they entered the straits, which they found in some places five or six leagues wide, but in others considerably narrower. the th, between the mouth of the straits and its narrowest part, they took a spaniard, who had been left there with twenty-three others of that nation, being all that remained alive of four hundred, who had been landed three years before in these straits. this spaniard shewed them the hull of a small bark, supposed to have been left by sir francis drake. [footnote : the cape at the north side of the eastern entrance into the straits of magellan, is named cape virgin, and is in lat ° ' s. the great white cape in lat. ° s. is not so easily ascertained. cape blanco, on this coast, is in lat. ° s. which cannot have any reference to the white cape of the text.--e.] the eastern mouth of the straits is in lat. ° s. from thence to the narrowest part is fourteen leagues w. by n. from thence to penguin island is ten leagues w.s.w. by s. they anchored at penguin island on the th january, where they killed and salted a great store of seals, to serve as sea provisions in case of need. leaving this place on the th, they sailed s.s.w. the fortress built in these straits by the spaniards, called _ciudad del rey felippe_, had four bulwarks or bastions, in each of which was one large cannon, all of which had been buried, and their carriages left standing. the english dug them all up, and carried them away. tins city seemed to have been well contrived, especially in its situation in regard to wood and water; but miserable was the life this forlorn remnant of spaniards had endured for the last two years, during which they had hardly been able to procure any other food than a scanty supply of shell-fish, except when they had the good fortune to surprise a deer, coming down from the mountains in search of water. the object of the spaniards, in erecting this fortress, was to have fortified the straits, so as to have excluded all other nations from any passage into the south sea: but, besides the barrenness of the soil, and excessive severity of the climate their most implacable enemies, the indians, frequently assailed them, so that they were reduced to the last extremity of distress. all the stores they had brought from spain were expended, and none could be procured in the country, which produced nothing but deer, and when hunting these for the preservation of their lives, they were sure to be fallen upon by the indians. at length almost all the spaniards died in their houses, and the stench of the putrefying carcasses became so intolerable to the few survivors, that they were forced to quit the fortress, and to range along the seacoast living upon roots, leaves, and sea weeds, or any animals they could occasionally fall in with. in this miserable extremity they had determined to attempt exploring their way to the rio plata, and were already on their way, when this spaniard was taken by the english. mr candish named the haven where the fortress stood _port famine_, owing to the utter want of all necessaries. it is in lat. ° s. leaving this place on the th, they ran five leagues s.w. to cape froward, in the southernmost part of the straits, in lat. ° s. sailing five leagues w. by n. from this cape, they put into a bay, called muscle cove, from the great quantities of muscles found there. leaving that place on the st, and sailing n. by w. ten leagues, they came to a fair bay, which candish named elizabeth bay. leaving that place on the d, they found a good river two leagues farther on, up which a boat was towed for three miles. the country about this river was pleasant and level, but all the other land on both sides of the straits was rugged, mountainous, and rocky, inhabited by a strong and well-made, but very brutish kind of savages, who are said to have eaten many of the spaniards, and seemed much disposed to have feasted also on english flesh; but they failed in their attempts to circumvent them. discovering a plot laid by these savages to entrap him and his men, candish gave them a volley of musquetry, which slew several of them, and the rest ran away. leaving this river, they sailed two leagues farther, to an inlet named st jerome's channel; whence, proceeding three or four leagues w. they came to a cape to the northward, whence the course to the western entrance of the straits is n.w. and n.w. by w. for about thirty-four leagues; so that the entire length of these straits is ninety leagues. this western entrance is in lat. ° ' s. nearly under the same parallel with the eastern mouth. in consequence of storms and excessive rains, they were forced to remain in a harbour near this western mouth of the straits till the d of february. by the excessive rains, pouring down with extreme fury in torrents from the mountains, they were brought into extreme danger; and were also much distressed for want of food, as the excessive severity of the weather hardly permitted their landing, to range the country in search of a supply in their passage through these straits, it was observed that there were harbours on both shores, at every mile or two, tolerably safe and convenient for small ships. section ii. _transactions on the western coast of america_. the weather moderating, they entered into the great south sea, or pacific ocean, on the th february, , observing on the south side of the entrance a very high cape, with an adjoining low point; while, at the northern side of the entrance there were four or five islands, six leagues from the main land, having much broken and sunken ground among and around them. in the night of the st march, there arose a great storm, in which they lost sight of the hugh gallant, being then in lat. ° s. and forty-five leagues from the land. this storm lasted three or four days, in which time the hugh sprung a leak, and was tossed about in this unknown sea, devoid of all help, being every moment ready to sink. by great exertions, however, she was kept afloat; and on the th, in the morning, she got in between the island of st mary and the main, where she again met the admiral and the content, which two ships had secured themselves during two days of the storm, at the island of mocha, in lat. ° s'.[ ] [footnote : mocha is in lat. ° ', and the isles of st mary in °, both s.] at this place some of the company went ashore well armed, and were met by the indians, who gave them a warm reception with their bows and arrows. these indians were of the district in chili called araucania, a country rich in gold, and consequently very tempting to the avaricious spaniards, which accordingly they had repeatedly invaded, but to no purpose, as the natives always defended themselves so valiantly, that their enemies could never subdue them. on the present occasion, mistaking the english for spaniards, these brave and desperate araucans gave candish a hostile welcome. after this skirmish, candish went with his ships under the lee of the west side of st mary's island, where he found good anchorage in six fathoms. this island, in lat. ° s. abounds in hogs, poultry, and various kinds of fruit; but the inhabitants are held under such absolute slavery by the spaniards, that they dare not kill a hog, or even a hen, for their own use; and although the spaniards have made them converts to christianity, they use them more like dogs than men or christians. the admiral went ashore on the th march, with seventy or eighty men well armed, and was met by two indian chiefs, who conducted him to a chapel, round which were several store-houses, well filled with wheat and barley, as clean and fair as any in england. he accordingly provided his ships with a sufficient store of grain from this place, and laid in besides an ample supply of hogs, hens, potatoes, dried dog-fish, and maize or guinea wheat. the admiral invited the two principal indians to an entertainment on board; and the wine having sharpened their wit, to perceive that the admiral and his men were not spaniards, as they had hitherto supposed them, they began to talk very freely about the gold mines, saying that the english might procure gold to their full content, by going into the country of the araucans. but not fully understanding them, as the information was mostly given by signs, the admiral did not prosecute this proposed adventure, but proceeded on his voyage. leaving the island of st mary on the th in the morning, they sailed all that day n.n.e. ten leagues. the th they steered in with the land, e.n.e. and anchored under an island in the bay of conception, in lat. ° ' s. the th they came into the bay of quintero, in lat. ° ' s. and next day a party of fifty or sixty men, well armed, marched seven or eight miles into the country. in their march, they saw vast herds of wild cattle, with horses, dogs, hares, rabbits, partridges, and other birds, with many fine rivers, well stocked with wild fowl. having travelled as far as they conveniently could for the mountains, and having rested and refreshed on the banks of a pleasant river, they returned in good order to the ships at night, without meeting any remarkable adventure; although a party of horse had been abroad all that day in search of them, upon information of some spaniards who had seen them the preceding day, but durst not venture to attack them, keeping always at a distance on the hills. they had at this time a short conference with three spanish horsemen, through the medium of the poor half-starved spaniard they took on board in the straits of magellan; but, in spite of his many oaths and protestations never to forsake candish, he took the opportunity to mount on horseback behind one of his countrymen, and got off. next day, the st april, some of the english being on shore filling their water-casks, the spaniards became bolder, and watching an opportunity when the sailors were hard at work, poured down with their horse from the hills, slew some of them, and made a few prisoners. but this glorious victory was soon snatched from their hands by the arrival of a reinforcement of fifteen english, who rescued the prisoners, killed twenty-four of the spaniards, and drove the rest back to the mountains. after this, they continued in the road till the th, and watered there in spite of the spaniards. on the th they weighed anchor, and went to a small island about a league from the bay, which is full of penguins and other sea fowl, of which they provided themselves with what store they wanted; after which they sailed n. and n. by w. in order to prosecute their voyage. the th april they came to _moro moreno_, in lat. ° ' s. under the tropic of capricorn, where there is an excellent harbour, made by means of an island, having an entrance for ships at either end. the admiral went ashore here with thirty men, and was met by the indians, who brought them water and wood on their backs. these are a simple sort of people, living in a wild and savage manner, in great dread of the spaniards. they brought the admiral and his company to their houses, about two miles from the harbour. these were only constructed of a few rafters laid across upon forked sticks stuck in the ground, having a few boughs laid over them by way of a roof. their beds were the skins of wild beasts laid on the ground; and their food little else than raw stinking fish. when any of them dies, he is buried with all his arms and goods, as bows and arrows, and even his canoe is laid in the earth along with him. their canoes, if such they may be called, consist of two skin bags, like large bladders, blown up with quills at one end, and fastened together by the sinews of some wild beast; yet in these they think nothing of venturing to sea, loading them even with great quantities of fish, part of which they have to give in tribute to the spaniards, the rest being kept to stink for their own eating. on the d may, they came into a bay on which were three small towns, paracca, chincha, and pisco, which latter is in lat. ° ' s.[ ] they landed here, and took some provisions, as wine, bread, poultry and figs, from the houses, but could not get ashore at the best of these towns, owing to the sea running too high. by this time; they had made two valuable prizes, laden with sugar, melasses, maiz, cordovan leather, _montego de porco_, packs of painted calicoes, indian coats, marmalade, hens, and other articles, which would have yielded £ , , if there had been any opportunity for selling their cargoes. that not being the case, they took out as much as could be conveniently stowed in their own ships, burning their two prizes with the rest of their contents. [footnote : pisco, the principal of these towns, is in lat. ° ' s.] the th may, they came into the road payta, in lat. ° ' s. the town being very neat and clean, and containing about houses. landing here with sixty or seventy men, candish had a skirmish with the inhabitants, whom he beat out of the town, forcing them to take refuge in the hills, whence they continued to fire at the english, but would not venture a fair battle on the plain ground. having possessed themselves of the town, the english marched after the enemy on the hill, and put them completely to the rout, seizing all their baggage, which they brought back with them to the town. they here found all sort of household stuff, together with warehouses well filled with various kinds of goods, and twenty-five pound weight of silver in pieces of eight. after taking away what plunder they found convenient, they set fire to the town, which was burnt to the ground, and destroyed likewise a bark at anchor in the roads; after which they set sail for puna. they arrived at puna, in lat. ° ' s. on the th of may, when they found a ship of tons at anchor in the harbour. after sinking her, they went ashore. the lord of this island, styled the caçique of puna, was an indian by birth, but having married a spanish woman, he became a christian, and made all his subjects follow his example. he had a sumptuous and well-contrived palace near the shore, with curious gardens adjoining, and fair prospects, both to the water and up the country. all the inhabitants of this island were kept continually employed in fabricating cables, such abundance of which are made here by the indian subjects of this caçique; that most of the ships navigating the south sea are supplied from hence. this island is nearly as large as the isle of wight in england, being about forty english miles from s.w. to n.e. and sixteen in the opposite direction. it enjoys a great share in the blessings of nature; for, although it has no mines of gold or silver, it affords every thing in abundance that is necessary to the comforts of life. the pastures are excellent, and are well stored with horses, oxen, sheep, and goats, yielding abundance of milk; it has also plenty of poultry, turkeys, ducks of a large size, and pigeons. the caçique has several orchards, yielding a great variety of fine fruits, as oranges, lemons, figs, pomegranates, pumpkins, melons, and many others; with a variety of odoriferous plants, as rosemary, thyme, and the like. one of these gardens or orchards was planted with the bombast cotton tree, which grows in pods, in each of which there are seven or eight seeds. the th of may, candish went to an island near puna, into which the caçique had conveyed all the valuable furniture of his palace, with other things of value. these stores were all discovered, and plundered of every thing thought worth carrying on board the ships, and the rest destroyed. the church also of puna, which stood near the palace, was burnt down, and its five bells carried to the ships. on the d june, the english were attacked by spaniards, who killed or took prisoners twelve of their men, losing forty-six of their own in the encounter. candish landed again that same day with seventy english, and had another battle with the spaniards, who were joined by indians armed with bows and arrows. the english were victorious, after which they made great havock of the fields and orchards, burnt four ships on the stocks, and left the town of houses a heap of rubbish. besides this principal town, there were two others on the island of houses each, so that puna was the best settled island on all this coast. setting sail from puna on the th june, they sailed to rio dolce, where they watered. they passed the equinoctial on the th, continuing their course northwards all the rest of that month. the st july, they had sight of new spain, being four leagues from the land in ° n. the th they took a new ship of tons, in which was one michael sancius, a native of provence, a very skilful coasting pilot for these seas, whom candish retained as his pilot, and from whom he got the first hint of the great ship anna maria, which he afterwards took on her voyage from the philippine islands. taking all the men, and every thing of any value from the ship of sancius, they set her on fire. the th they came to anchor in the mouth of the river capalico, and the same night went in the pinnace with thirty men to guatalco, two leagues from that river, in ° ' n. and burnt both the town and custom-house, which was a large handsome building, in which there were laid up bags of indigo, and bags of cacao, every bag of the former being worth forty crowns, and each of the latter worth ten. these cacaos serve among the people of these parts both as food and money, being somewhat like almonds, yet not quite so pleasant, and pass in trade by way of small change, of them being equal in value to a rial of plate. they set sail from capalico on the th, the sea running so high that they could not fill their water casks, and came to guatalco that same night. next day candish went ashore with thirty men, marching two miles into the woods, where he took a _mestizo_ belonging to the custom-house of that town, having with him a considerable quantity of goods, both which and their master were carried to the ships. the th august, candish went with thirty men in the pinnace to the haven of _puerto de navidad_ in lat. ° ' n. where sancius had informed him there would be a prize; but, before their arrival, she had gone twelve leagues farther to fish for pearls. they here made prisoner of a mulatto, who had been sent to give notice of the english, all along the coast of new gallicia, and got possession of all his letters. they likewise burnt the town, and two ships of tons here building, after which they returned to the ships. they came on the th into the bay of st jago, where they watered at a good river, which yielded them plenty of fish, and where they found some pearls. this bay is in lat. ° ' n. leaving this bay on the d september, they came next day into the bay of malacca, a league westward from port navidad, and a good place for ships to ride in. that day, candish went ashore with about thirty men, to an indian town named acatlan, about two leagues from the road.[ ] this town or village consisted of twenty or thirty houses and a church, which they demolished, and then returned at night to the ships. leaving this bay on the th, they came on the th to the road of chacalla, eighteen leagues from cape corientes. on the th, candish sent a party of forty men, guided by sancius, which, after marching through woods and deserts, lighted upon a few families, some of which were indians, and others spanish and portuguese, all of whom were brought to the ships. the women were ordered to fetch plantains, lemons, oranges, and other fruits, in reward for which all their husbands were set free, except a spaniard named sembrano, and diego, a portuguese. [footnote : guatlan is the name of a bay on this coast, and which is probably corrupted in the text to acatlan.--e.] on the th they arrived at the island of st andrew, which is very full of wood, and where they found plenty of fowls and seals, together with a sort of serpents, or lizards rather, called _iguanos_, having four feet and a long sharp tail, which they found good eating. leaving this isle, they came to the road of mazatlan on the th, lying under the tropic of cancer. the river here is large within, but much obstructed by a bar at its mouth. the bay abounds with fish, and there are abundance of good fruits up the country. departing from this bay on the th, they came to an island, a league north from mazatlan,[ ] where they heeled their ships, and rebuilt their pinnace. on this isle, they found fresh water, by digging two or three feet into the sand, otherwise they must have gone back twenty or thirty leagues for water, being advised by one flores, a spanish prisoner, to dig in the sands, where no water or sign of any could be perceived. having amply supplied the ships with water, they remained at this island till the th october, and then sailed from cape san lucar, the s.w. point of california, in lat. ° ' n. which they fell in with on the th, observing that it much resembled the needles at the isle of wight, which had been before noticed by sir francis drake. within this cape, there is a large bay, called by the spaniards _aguada segura_,[ ] into which falls a fine fresh-water river, the banks of which are usually inhabited by many indians in the summer. they went into this bay, where they again watered, and remained waiting for the accapulco ship till the th november, the wind continuing all that time to hang westerly. [footnote : in our best modern maps no such island is to be found; but about the same distance to the s. is a cluster of small isles.--e.] [footnote : probably that now called the bay of st barnaby, about twenty miles e.n.e. from cape san lucar.--e.] the th november, putting to sea, the desire and content beat to and fro to windward off the head land of california; and that very morning one of the men in the admiral, going aloft to the topmast, espied a ship bearing in from seaward for the cape. putting every thing in readiness for action, candish gave chase, and coming up with her in the afternoon, gave her a broadside and a volley of small arms. this ship was the santa anna of tons burden, belonging to the king of spain, and commanded by the admiral of the south sea. candish instantly boarded, finding the spaniards in a good posture of defence, and was repulsed with the loss of two men slain and four or five wounded. he then renewed the action with his cannon and musquetry, raking the st ann, and killing or wounding great numbers, as she was full of men. the spaniards long defended themselves manfully; but the ship being sore wounded, so that the water poured in a-main, they at last hung out a flag of truce, praying for quarter, and offering to surrender. this was immediately agreed to by candish, who ordered them to lower their sails, and to send their chief officers to his ship. they accordingly hoisted out their boat, in which came the captain, the pilot, and one of the chief merchants, who surrendered themselves, and gave an account of the value of their ship, in which were , pezos in gold, with prodigious quantities of rich silks, satins, damasks, and divers kinds of merchandise, such as musk, and all manner of provisions, almost as acceptable to the english as riches, having been long at sea. the prize thus gloriously obtained, candish returned to _aguada_, or _puerto seguro_, on the th november, where he landed all the spaniards, to the number of persons, men and women, giving them plenty of wine and victuals, with the sails of their ship and some planks, to build huts or tents for them to dwell in. the owners of the prize being thus disposed of, the next thing was to share the booty; which ungracious work of distribution soon involved candish in all the troubles of a mutiny, every one being eager for gold, yet no one satisfied with his share. this disturbance was most violent in the content; but all was soon appeased and compromised by the candid and generous behaviour of candish. the th of november, being the coronation day of queen elizabeth, was celebrated by discharges of ordnance, and vollies of small shot, and at night by fireworks. of the prisoners taken in the spanish ship, candish reserved two japanese boys, three natives of the island of luzon or manilla, a portuguese who had been in china and japan, and a spanish pilot, who was thoroughly versant in the navigation between new spain and the philippine islands. accapulco is the haven whence they fit out for the philippines, and the ladrones are their stated places of refreshment on this voyage. having dismissed the spanish captain with a noble present, and sufficient provision for his defence against the indians, and removed everything from the prize which his ships could contain, candish set the santa anna on fire on the th november, having still tons of her goods remaining, and saw her burnt to the water's edge. section iii. _voyage home to england_. this great business, for which they had so long waited, being now accomplished, they set sail cheerfully on their return for england. the content staid some short time behind the desire, which went on before, expecting she would soon follow, but she never rejoined company. pursuing the voyage, therefore, in the desire, candish directed his course for the ladrones across the pacific ocean, these islands being nearly leagues distant from this harbour of _aguada segura_ in california. this passage took forty-five days, from the th november, , to the d january, . on this day, early in the morning, they had sight of guam, one of the ladrones, in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' e. sailing with a gentle gale before the wind, they came within two leagues of the island, where they saw sixty or seventy canoes full of savages, who brought cocoas, plantains, potatoes, and fresh fish, to exchange for some of their commodities. they gave them in return some pieces of old iron, which they hung upon small cords and fishing lines, and so lowered down to the canoes, getting back, in the same manner, what the savages offered in exchange. in the course of this traffic the savages crowded so much about the ship, that two of their canoes were broken; yet none of the savages were drowned, as they were almost as familiar with the water as if they had been fishes. the savages continued following the ship, and would not quit her company till several shots were fired at them; though 'tis ten to one if any of them were killed, as they are so very nimble, throwing themselves immediately into the water, and diving beyond the reach of danger on the slightest warning. these islanders were large handsome men, extraordinarily fat, and of a tawny colour, mostly having very long hair, some wearing it tied up in large knots on the crown of their heads, like certain wooden images at the heads of their canoes. their canoes were very artificially made, considering that they use no edge-tools in their construction; and are about seven or eight yards in length, by half a yard only in breadth, their heads and stems being both alike, and having rafts made of canes or reeds on their starboard sides, being also supplied both with masts and sails. these latter are made of sedges, and are either square or triangular. these canoes have this property, that they will sail almost as well against the wind as before it. on the th january, at day-break, candish fell in with a head-land of the philippine islands, called _cabo del espiritu santo_. the island itself [samar] is of considerable size, consisting of high land in the middle, and depressed in its east and west extremities; the latter of which runs a great way out to sea. it is in lat. ° n. being distant leagues from guam and about leagues from manilla, the chief of the philippines.[ ] samar is a woody island, and its inhabitants are mostly heathens. candish spent eleven days in sailing from guam to this place, having had some foul weather, and scarcely carrying any sail for two or three nights. manilla, at this time, was an unwalled town of no great strength, yet containing vast riches in gold and valuable commodities, and inhabited by six or seven hundred spaniards. it has a constant annual correspondence with accapulco in new spain; besides which twenty or thirty vessels come thither yearly from china, for conducting its trade with the _sangueloes_: these are chinese merchants, very sharp and sensible men in every thing relating to trade, extremely ingenious in all kinds of mechanical contrivances, and the most expert embroiderers on silk and satin of any in the world. they will execute any form of beast, fowl, or fish, in gold, silver, or silk, having all the just proportions and colours in every part, and giving all the life and beauty to their work, as if done by the best painter, or even as nature has bestowed on the originals. the trade of these men with manilla must be very profitable, as they bring great quantities of gold there, and exchange it against silver, weight for weight.[ ] [footnote : the latitude of cape espiritu santo, as given in the test, is grossly erroneous, being only ° ' n. and its long. ° ' e. from greenwich. the difference of longitude from guam, guaham, or guaci, the most southerly of the ladrones, is ° ' nearly east, and consequently marine leagues. this island is divided from luzon, or luçonia, the principal island of the philippines, by the narrow straits of san bernardino; and cape espiritu santo is about leagues, in a straight line, from the city of manilla, which lies to the n.w. cape espiritu santo is at the n.w. extremity of the island of samar.--e.] [footnote : this surely is an egregious error, as such acute merchants as the chinese are here represented, and actually are, could never be so foolish as to give gold for silver, weight for weight. before the present scarcity of bullion, the ordinary european price of exchange, was fourteen for one; and perhaps the then price in china might be lower, as twelve, eleven, or ten; but equality is quite inconceivable.--e.] the same day on which he fell in with cape espiritu santo, th of january, , candish entered in the evening into the straits of san bernardino, between samar or cambaia, and the island of luzon. the th he fell in with the island of _capul_, passing a very narrow strait between that island and another, in which the current of the tide was considerable. in this passage, a ledge of rocks lay off the point of capul, but was passed without danger. within the point was a fair bay, with a good harbour, having anchorage in four fathoms, within a cable's length of the shore. coming to anchor here about ten in the morning, the desire was immediately boarded by a canoe, in which was one of the seven chiefs of the island. passing themselves for spaniards, the english traded with these people for cocoa-nuts and potatoes, giving a yard of linen for four cocoa-nuts, and as much for about a quart of potatoes, which they found sweet and excellent food, either boiled or roasted. the caçique or chief who came on board had his skin curiously streaked or painted [tatooed], full of strange devices all over his body. candish kept him on board, desiring him to send his servants, who paddled his canoe, to bring the other six chiefs to the ship. they came accordingly, attended by a great train of the natives, bringing vast quantities of hogs and hens, and a full market of cocoa-nuts and potatoes; so that the english were occupied the whole day in purchasing, giving eight rials of plate for a hog, and one for a hen. at this place, a justly-merited punishment was inflicted on a spanish pilot, taken in the santa anna, who had plotted to betray them to the spaniards, and for which he was hanged. candish remained here for nine days, all the time receiving ample supplies of fresh victuals, good water, and wood for fuel. the islanders are all pagans, who are said to worship the devil, and to converse with him. they are of a tawny complexion, and go almost naked; the men wearing a small square piece of cloth in front, woven from plantain-leaves, and another behind, which is brought up between their legs, both being fastened to a girdle round their waists. they are all circumcised, and have also a strange custom, hardly practised any where else but in pegu, having a nail of tin in a perforation through the glans, which nail is split at one end and rivetted; but which can be taken out as they have occasion, and put in again. this is said to have been contrived, on the humble petition of the women, to prevent perpetrating an unnatural crime, to which they were much addicted. on the d of january, candish summoned all the caçiques of this island, and an hundred more, who had paid him tribute, and then revealed to them all, when assembled, that he and his men were englishmen, and the greatest enemies the spaniards had in the world. at the same time he generously restored them, in money, the value of all the tribute they had paid to him, in hogs, cocoa-nuts, potatoes, and the like. this unexpected generosity astonished the whole assembly, who applauded his bounty, and offered to join him with all the forces of their respective districts, if he would go to war with the spaniards. they seemed much pleased with finding that candish and his people were english, and thankful for the kindness with which they had been treated. on taking leave, they rowed round the ship awhile in their canoes, as if in compliment to the english; and candish caused a gun to be fired at their departure. setting sail on the th, candish ran along the coast of luzon, steering n.w. between that island and _masbate_. in the islands thereabout, the spaniards were observed to keep a strict watch, making great fires, and discharging their pieces all night, having been much alarmed by the arrival of the english. the island of _panama_ is in many places plain and level, affording many large, tall, and straight trees, fit for masts, and has several mines of very fine gold, which are possessed by the natives. to the south of this is the island of the negroes, which is very large, almost as big as england, and is in lat. ° n.[ ] it appeared to consist mostly of low land, and to be very fertile. [footnote : negro island reaches from lat. ° ' to ° ' n. and is consequently two and a half degrees from n. to s. about english miles, but does not any where exceed thirty miles from e. to w.--e.] at six in the morning of the th of january, they began to pass through the straits between panama and negro islands, and, after proceeding sixteen leagues, they found a fair opening in these straits, trending s.w. by s. about this time, being rejoined by their boat, which had been sent before them in the morning, candish sent a spanish prisoner on shore, with a message to his captain, who commanded a ship which lay at panama the night before, desiring him to provide an abundant supply of gold against the return of the desire, as he meant to pay him a visit at manilla, and as that was a long voyage, it merited good entertainment. he said farther, that he would have come now, to weigh some of his spanish gold in english scales, if he had possessed a larger boat for landing his men on the island. proceeding on the voyage, they saw batochina on the th of february, an island near gilolo, in the lat. of ° n. the th of that month they fell in with eleven or twelve small flat low islands, almost level with the sea, in lat. ° ' s. near the moluccas. march st, having passed the straits between java major and java minor, they anchored under the s.w. part of java major, where they saw some people fishing in a bay under the island. the admiral sent a boat to them, in which was a negro who could speak the _moresco_[ ] language, which is much used in java. but, being frightened at the approach of the boat, they all got on shore and ran away into the woods. one of them, however, came back to the shore, on being called to by the negro, and directed where to find fresh water; besides which, he undertook to carry a message to the king of that part of the island from the admiral, certifying that he had come to purchase victuals, or any commodities the country afforded. in consequence of this message, nine or ten canoes belonging to the king came off, on the th march, loaded with all sorts of provisions as deep as they could swim; bringing oxen, hogs, hens, geese, eggs, sugar, cocoa-nuts, plantains, oranges, lemons, wine, and arrack. [footnote : probably the malay is here meant, and called moresco or moors, an ordinary term for mahometans.--e.] at the same time two portuguese came off to visit candish, and to enquire about their king, don antonio, then residing in england. these persons gave him a full account of the manners and customs of the people of this island. the king of this part was held in prodigious awe by his subjects, over whom he exercised absolute power, insomuch that no man was permitted to make a bargain without his leave, on pain of death. he had an hundred wives, and his son fifty; who may possibly be happy enough while he lives; but when he dies, and his body is burnt, and the ashes collected into an urn, the tragedy of his wives begins five days afterwards. they are then all conducted to an appointed place, where the favourite wife throws a ball from her hand, and where it stops marks the place of their deaths. being come there, and turning their faces to the east, they all draw their daggers and stab themselves to the heart; after which they smear themselves with their own blood, and thus die. the men of this island are excellent soldiers, being hardy, valiant, and desperate to the last degree, sticking at nothing commanded by their king, however dangerous; and, should he even command them to plunge a dagger into their own breast, or to leap from a precipice, or into a den of wild beasts, they instantly obey: for the displeasure of their sovereign is as certain death as the point of a sword, or the fangs of a beast of prey. their complexion is tawny, like the other natives of india, and they go entirely naked; but their women are of a fairer hue, and are more modestly cloathed than the men. after this relation of the portuguese, having satisfied the javans for the provisions they had supplied, and received a promise of good entertainment to the english when they might return to their island, candish took leave of them, making a present to their king of three large cannon. next day, being the th of march, he made sail for the cape of good hope, spending all the rest of that month, all april, and a part of may, in traversing the vast ocean between the island of java and the southern extremity of africa, making many observations on the appearances of the stars, the weather, winds, tides, currents, soundings, and bearings and positions of lands. on the th of may, land was espied bearing n. and n. by w. and towards noon more land was seen bearing w. which was believed to be the cape of good hope, being then about forty or fifty leagues from that southern promontory of africa.[ ] the wind being scanty, they stood off to the southwards till midnight; and, the wind being then fair, stood their course directly west. on the th and th they were becalmed, with a thick and hazy atmosphere. the weather cleared upon the th, when they again saw land, which proved to be cape _falso_, forty or fifty leagues short, or to the eastwards of the cape of good hope.[ ] this cape falso is easily known, having three hills directly over it, the highest in the middle, and only a little distance from each other; the ground being much lower by the sea-side. besides which, the cape of good hope bears w. by s. from this cape. they discovered the cape of good hope on the th of may, observing the head-land to be considerably high, having two hummocks at the westerly point, a little off the main, and three others a little farther into the sea, yet low-land still between these and the sea. by the portuguese the cape of good hope is said to be leagues from java; but by their reckoning they made it only leagues, which took them just nine weeks in the run. [footnote : either this is a gross error, or it means that their reckoning still made that distance from the cape, as nothing nearly approaching to such a distance can possibly be seen.--e.] [footnote : captain falso is only ten leagues e. from the cape of good hope; but perhaps cape aguillas may be meant in the text, which is about thirty-five leagues e.s.e. from the cape.--e.] by break of day on the th june, they were within seven or eight leagues of st helena, of which island they had merely a glimpse that day, as, having little or no wind, they had to stand off and on all night. next day, having a tolerably good wind, they stood in with the shore, sending the boat before, and came to anchor in a good bay, under the n.w. side of the island, in twelve fathoms, only two or three cables length from the shore. this island lies in the middle of the atlantic ocean, almost at equal distances from the main land of africa and that of brazil, in lat. ° ' s. between five and six hundred leagues from the cape of good hope. candish went here on shore, and entered the church, to which there was a fair causeway; having a _frame between two bowls_, and a cross of freestone adjoining. within it was hung with painted cloth, on which were represented the blessed virgin, the story of the crucifixion, and other holy legends, hung round the altar. the valley in which this church stands is extremely pleasant, and so full of fruit-trees and excellent plants, that it seemed like a very fair and well-cultivated garden, having long rows of lemon, orange, citron, pomegranate, date, and fig-trees, delighting the eye with blossoms, green fruit, and ripe, all at once. these trees seemed nicely trimmed, and there were many delightful walks under the shelter of their boughs, which were pleasant, cool, and shady. at some distance there rises a fine clear spring, which diffuses itself in many fine rivulets, all through this valley, watering all its parts, and refreshing every plant and tree. in the whole of this great garden there is hardly any unoccupied space; as, where nature may have left any part empty, there art has supplied the deficiency, so as to fill the whole space to advantage. this island also affords great abundance of partridges and pheasants, both being larger than ours in england. there are also turkeys, both black and white, with red heads, about as large as those in england, and their eggs much the same, only altogether white. there is also plenty of _cabritos_, or wild goats, as big as asses, and having manes like horses, and their beards reaching down to the ground. these are so numerous, that their herds or flocks are sometimes a whole mile in length. it contains also vast herds of wild-swine, which keep chiefly in the mountains, as do likewise the wild-goats. these swine are very fat, but so excessively wild that they are never to be got at by a man, unless when asleep, or rolling themselves in the mire. having taken in all necessaries that this place produced, candish set sail for england on the th of june, standing n.w. by w. it is observable, that the wind at st helena is generally off the shore. on friday, the d of august, he steered e. and e. by s. for the northernmost of the azores; and on the th, after midnight, he got sight of the islands of flores and corvo, in lat. ° ' n. whence he shaped his course n.e. he met a flemish vessel on the d september, bound from lisbon, from which he had the joyful news of the total defeat of the spanish armada. on the th september, after receiving a farewell from the wind in a violent storm, which carried away most of his sails, candish arrived at the long-desired haven of plymouth. there had not hitherto been any voyage of so much consequence, or attended by such uninterrupted success as this: as plainly appears from the length of time occupied by that of magellan, which extended to three years and a month; that of sir francis drake extending to upwards of two years and ten months; while this voyage by candish was less than two years and two months. we need not wonder, therefore, that a young gentleman like mr candish, who was entirely devoted to a desire of acquiring glory and renown, should contrive some extraordinary manner of displaying his good fortune. some accounts accordingly inform us, that he brought his ship into plymouth harbour under a suit of silken sails, which, if true, may be thus explained. we have already mentioned, from his own narrative, that he encountered a violent storm, just before his arrival, which tore all his sails to pieces. in this distress, he would probably use those he had taken in the south sea, made of what is called silk-grass, having a strong gloss and beautiful colour, which might easily deceive the eyes of the vulgar, and pass upon them for sails made of silk. this much is certain, however, that though he might be vain and expensive in such matters, yet all came fairly out of his own pocket; and those who had sailed with him, from the prospect of raising their fortunes, had not the least reason to complain, as he made a fair and full distribution of the prizes, by which he gained universal credit and esteem. to shew his duty and diligence, as well as to discharge respectfully the obligations he owed his patron, lord hunsdon, the near relation of queen elizabeth, and then lord-chamberlain, he wrote the following letter to him on the very day of his arrival at plymouth. _to the right honourable the lord hunsdon, &c._ _right honourable_, as your favour heretofore hath been most greatly extended towards me, so i humbly desire a continuance thereof; and though there be no means in me to deserve the same, yet the uttermost of my services shall not be wanting, whensoever it shall please your honour to dispose thereof. i am humbly to desire your honour to make known unto her majesty the desire i have had to do her majesty service in the performance of this voyage; and, as it hath pleased god to give her the victory over part of her enemies, so i trust, ere long, to see her overthrow them all. for the places of their wealth, whereby they have maintained and made their wars, are now perfectly discovered; and, if it please her majesty, with a small power she may take and spoil them all. it hath pleased the almighty to suffer me to circumcompass all the whole globe of the world, entering in at the straits of magellan, and returning by the cape of buena esperança. in which voyage i have either discovered, or brought certain intelligence of, all the rich places of the world that ever were known or discovered by any christian. i navigated along the coasts of chili, peru, and nueva espanna, where i made great spoils. i burnt and sunk nineteen sail of ships, great and small. all the villages and towns that ever i landed at, i burnt and spoiled; and, had i not been discovered upon the coast, i had taken a great quantity of treasure. the matter of most profit unto me was a great ship of the king's, which i took at california, which ship came from the philippines, being one of the richest for merchandize that ever passed these seas, as the royal register, accounts, and merchants did shew; for it amounted in value to ***** in mexico to be sold: which goods, for that my ships were not able to contain the least part of them, i was enforced to set on fire. from the cape of california, being the uppermost part of all new spain, i navigated to the philippine islands, hard upon the coast of china, of which country i have brought such intelligence as hath not been heard in these parts; the stateliness and riches of which country i fear to make report of; lest i should not be credited: for, if i had not known sufficiently the incomparable wealth of that country, i should have been as incredulous thereof as others will be that have not had the like experience. i sailed along the islands of the moluccas, where among some of the heathen people i was well intreated, and where our people may have trade as freely as the portuguese, if they will themselves. from thence, i passed by the cape of buena esperança; and found out, by the way homeward, the island of st helena, where the portuguese used to refresh themselves; and, from that island, god hath suffered me to return into england. all which services, together with myself, i humbly prostrate at her majesty's feet, desiring the almighty long to continue her reign among us; for at this day she is the most famous and most victorious prince that liveth in the world. thus, humbly desiring pardon for my tediousness, i leave your lordship to the tuition of the almighty. _your honour's most humble to command, thomas candish_. plymouth, this th of september, . * * * * * there are many circumstances in this voyage, besides the wonderful facility with which it was accomplished, that deserve to be considered. as, for instance, the adventuring to pass a second time into the south sea, after it was not only known that the spaniards were excessively alarmed by the passage of sir francis drake, but also that they had received succours from spain, and had actually fortified themselves strongly in the south sea. also the nice search made by candish, and the exact description he has given us of the straits of magellan, are very noble proofs of his skill and industry, and of his desire that posterity might reap the fruits of his labours. the attack of the accapulco ship, likewise, considering the small force he had along with him, was a noble instance of true english bravery, which was justly rewarded by the queen with the honour of knighthood. his account of the philippines, and his description of several islands in the east indies, are very clear and curious, and must at that time have been very useful; but particularly his map and description of china, which gave great lights in those days. we may add to all this, the great care he took in the instruction of his seamen, many of whom afterwards distinguished themselves by navigating vessels in the same stupendous course, and thereby filling all the known world with the fame and reputation of english seamen. it is not therefore surprising that we find the best judges, both of our own and other nations, bestowing very high praise on this worthy gentleman, who, in the whole conduct of his voyage, shewed the courage and discretion of a great commander, with all the skill and diligence of an able seaman; of both which eminent characters he has left the strongest testimonies in his accurate account of this circumnavigation. the wealth brought home by sir thomas candish from this successful voyage must have been considerable; an old writer says it was sufficient to have purchased _a fair earldom_, a general and vague expression, having no determinate meaning. whatever may have been the amount of the sum, which he acquired with so much hazard and so great honour, he certainly did not make such prudent use of his good fortune as might have been expected; for in the space of three years the best part of it was spent, and he determined to lay out the remainder upon a second expedition. we need the less wonder at this, if we consider what the writers of those days tell us, of his great generosity, and the prodigious expence he was at in procuring and maintaining such persons as he thought might be useful to him in his future naval expeditions, on which subject his mind was continually bent. such things require the revenues of a prince; and as he looked upon this voyage round the world as an introduction only to his future undertakings, we may easily conceive that, what the world considered extravagance, might appear to him mere necessary disbursements, which, instead of lessening, he proposed should have laid the foundations of a more extensive fortune. all circumstances duly considered, this was neither a rash nor improbable supposition; since there were many examples in the glorious reign of queen elizabeth, of very large fortunes acquired by the same method in which he proposed to have increased his estate. besides, it clearly appears, by his will, that he not only did not die in debt, but left very considerable effects behind him, notwithstanding his heavy expences, and the many misfortunes of his second expedition, of which it is proper to subjoin a brief account.--_harris_. in the collection of hakluyt, vol. iv. p. - , is a long enumeration of nautical remarks, of the latitudes, soundings, distances of places, bearings of lands, variations of the compass, time spent in sailing between the several places enumerated, time of remaining at any of these, observations of winds, &c. &c. &c. written by mr thomas fuller of ipswich, who was master of the desire in this voyage round the world; but which are too tedious and uninteresting for insertion.--e. section iv. _second voyage of sir thomas candish, intended for the south sea, in _.[ ] though not a circumnavigation, owing to various misfortunes, it appears proper to insert this narrative, giving an account of the unfortunate end of the renowned candish, by way of appendix to his circumnavigation. from the happy success of his former voyage, and the superior strength with which he undertook the second, in which, after ranging the spanish coast of the south sea, he proposed to have visited the philippine islands and china, he certainly had every reason to have expected, that the profits of this new enterprise would have fully compensated for its expences, and have enabled him to spend the remainder of his days in honourable ease and affluence. [footnote : hakluyt, iv. .--this narrative, as we learn from hakluyt, was written by mr john lane, or jane, a person of good observation, who was employed in this and many other voyages.--e.] * * * * * the ships fitted out on this occasion, entirely at his own expence, were the galleon named the leicester, in which sir thomas candish embarked himself as admiral, or general of the expedition; the roebuck vice-admiral, commanded by mr cocke; the desire rear-admiral, of which mr john davis was captain;[ ] the dainty, a bark belonging to mr adrian gilbert, of which mr randolph cotton had the command; and a pinnace named the black. [footnote : the author of this narrative informs us that he sailed on this voyage along with mr davis.--e.] § . _incidents in the voyage, till the separation of the ships_. with this squadron we sailed from plymouth on the th of august, . the th november, we fell in with the bay of st salvador on the coast of brazil, twelve leagues to the n. of cabo frio, where we were becalmed till the d december, when we captured a small bark, bound for the rio plata, laden with sugar, haberdashery wares, and negroes. the master of this bark brought us to an isle, called placencia or _ilha grande_, thirty portuguese leagues w. from cabo frio, where we arrived on the th december, and rifled six or seven houses inhabited by portuguese. the th we departed from this place, and arrived on the th at the island of st sebastian; whence mr cocke and mr davis immediately departed, with the desire and the black pinnace, on purpose to attack the town of santos. we anchored at the bar of santos in the evening of the th, and went immediately in our boats to the town. next morning about nine o'clock, we reached santos, and being discovered, we immediately landed, being only twenty-four of us, our long-boat being still far astern. by this promptitude, we took all the people of the town prisoners in the church, being at mass, and detained them there all day. the great object of sir thomas candish in assaulting this town was to supply our wants, expecting to have got every thing of which we stood in need, when once in possession: but such was the negligence of mr cocke, who commanded on this occasion, that the indians were allowed to carry every thing out of the town in open view, and no one hindered them; and next day, our prisoners were all set free, only four poor old men being kept as pledges to supply our wants. by this mismanagement, the town of santos, which could easily have supplied a fleet the double of ours with all kinds of necessaries, was in three days left to us entirely naked, without people, and without provisions. sir thomas candish came up eight or ten days afterwards, and remained till the d january, , endeavouring by treaty to procure what we were once possessed of, but to little purpose; and we were then forced to depart, through want of provisions, glad to procure a few baskets of cassavi meal, going away worse provided than we had come there. we accordingly left santos on the d january, and burnt the town of st vincent to the ground. we set sail on the th, shaping our course for the straits of magellan. on the th february we had a violent storm, and on the th, our fleet was separated by the fury of the tempest. consulting with the master of our ship, our captain concluded to go for port desire, in the latitude of ° s. hoping that sir thomas would go there likewise, as he had found great relief there in his former voyage. our captain had not been able to get directions, what course to take in such a contingency as had now occurred, though he had earnestly proposed such a measure. in our way, we fortunately fell in with the roebuck, which had been in extreme danger, and had lost her boat. we arrived together at port desire on the th march. the black pinnace came in there also on the th; but the dainty came not, having gone back for england, leaving their captain, mr randolph cotton, aboard the roebuck, with nothing but the clothes he wore. he now came aboard our ship, being in great habits of friendship with captain davis. on the th sir thomas brought the galleon into the roads, and came himself into the harbour in a boat he had got built at sea, for his long-boat and light-horseman were both lost during the storm, together with a pinnace he had set up at santos. being on board our ship, the desire, sir thomas informed our captain of all his extremities, and complained severely of his company, and particularly of several gentlemen in his ship, proposing to go no more on board his own ship, but to proceed for the rest of the voyage in the desire. we were all grieved to hear such hard speeches of our good friends; but having spoken with the gentlemen in the leicester, we found them faithful, honest, and resolute in their proceedings, although it pleased our general to conceive of them otherwise. the th march we departed from port desire, sir thomas being in the desire with us. the th of april we fell in with the straits of magellan, having sustained many furious storms between port desire and the straits. the th we passed the first straits, and got through the second, ten leagues beyond the first, on the th. we doubled cape froward on the th, which cape is in ° ' s. the st we were forced by a furious storm to take shelter in a small cove with our ships, four leagues beyond the cape, and on the southern shore of the straits, where we remained till the th of may; in which time we endured much distress, by excessive storms, with perpetual snow, and many of our men died of cold and famine, not having wherewithal to cover their bodies nor to fill their bellies, but living on muscles, sea-weeds, and water, with an occasional supply of meal from the ships stores.[ ] all the sick men in the galleon were most uncharitably put on shore into the woods, exposed to the snow, the air, and the cold, which men in health could hardly have endured, where they ended their days in the utmost misery, sir thomas remaining all this time in the desire. [footnote : it would appear that this expedition had been very improvidently undertaken, with a very inadequate supply of provisions, and, as will afterwards appear, of naval stores, trusting perhaps to obtain supplies from the enemy, as had been attempted in vain at santos. either delayed by these views, or from ignorance, the passage through the straits was attempted at a very improper season, three months after the antarctic mid-summer and during the autumnal equinoctial gales. november, december, and january are the summer months, and best fitted for these high southern latitudes.--e.] seeing these great extremities of cold and snow, and doubting a disastrous end to the enterprize, sir thomas asked our captain's opinion, being a person of great experience in the utmost parts of the north, to which he had made three voyages of discovery in the employ of the london merchants. captain davis said, that he did not expect the snow to be of long continuance, for which he gave sufficient reasons from his former experience, and hoped therefore that this might not greatly prejudice or hinder the completion of the enterprize. yet sir thomas called all the company together, telling them that he proposed to depart from the straits upon some other voyage, either proceeding for the cape of good hope, or back again to brazil. the company answered, that they desired rather to wait god's favour for a wind, if he so pleased, and to submit to any hardships, rather than abandon the intended voyage, considering that they had been here only for a short time, and were now only forty leagues from the south sea; yet, though grieved to return, they were ready to perform whatever he pleased to command. so he concluded to leave the straits, and make sail for the cape of good hope. when sir thomas candish returned on board the desire, from talking with the company, captain davis requested he would consider the extremity of our estate and condition, the slenderness of his provision, and the weakness of his men, being in no case for undertaking that new enterprise; as, if the other ships were as ill appointed as the desire, it would be impossible to perform his new design, having no more sails then were then bent, no victuals, no ground tackle, no cordage save what was already in use; and, of seventy-five persons in the desire, the master only had knowledge enough for managing the ship, and there were only fourteen sailors besides, all the rest being gentlemen, serving-men, or tradesmen. captain davis laid these persuasions before both the general and mr cocke; and in fine, in consequence of a petition, delivered in writing by all the chief persons of the whole company, the general determined to depart from the straits of magellan, and to return again for santos in brazil. accordingly, we set sail on the th of may, the general being now on board the galleon, his own ship. the th we were free of the straits; but on passing cape froward, we had the misfortune to have our boat sunk at our stern in the night, by which she was split and sore injured, and lost all her oars. the th of may, being athwart port desire, the general altered his course during the night, as we suppose, by which we lost him. in the evening he stood close by the wind to leewards, having the wind at n.n.e. and we stood the same course, the wind not altering during the night, and next day we could not see him. we were then persuaded that the general was gone for port desire in quest of relief or that he had sustained some mischance at sea, and was gone there to seek a remedy. our captain then called all hands together, the general's men among the rest, asking their opinion what was to be done, when every one said he thought the general was gone to port desire. our master, who was the general's man, and careful for his master's service, and also a person of good judgment in sea affairs, represented to the company how dangerous it was for us to go to port desire, especially if we should there miss the general; as we had now no boat wherewith to land, neither any anchors or cables which he could trust to in such rapid streams. yet as we all concluded that it was most probable the general had gone there, we shaped our course for port desire, and on our way met the black pinnace by chance, which had also parted company from the general, being in a miserable plight. so we both proceeded for port desire, where we arrived on the th of may. § . _disastrous result of the voyage to sir thomas candish_.[ ] various accounts of the disappointments and misfortunes of sir thomas candish, in this disastrous voyage, are still preserved, but the most copious is contained in his own narrative, addressed to sir tristram gorges, whom he constituted sole executor of his will. in this, sir thomas attributes his miscarriage to the cowardice and defection of one of his officers, in the following terms:--"the running away of the villain davis was the death of me, and the decay of the whole action, and his treachery in deserting me the ruin of all." [footnote : this portion of the voyage is taken from the supplement in the collection of harris, to the circumnavigation of sir thomas candish.--e.] in this letter he complained also of mutinies, and that, by adverse winds at s w. and w.s.w. he had been driven leagues from the shore, and from the latitude of ° to that of ° both s. he says also, that he was surprised by winter in the straits, and sore vexed by storms, having such frosts and snows in may as he had never before witnessed,[ ] so that forty of his men died, and seventy more of them sickened, in the course of seven or eight days. davis, as he says, deserted him in the desire, in lat. ° s. the roebuck continued along with him to lat. ° s. in consequence of transgressing his directions, captain barker was slain on land with twenty-five men, and the boat lost; and soon afterwards other twenty-five men met with a similar fate. ten others were forsaken at spiritu santo, by the cowardice of the master of the roebuck, who stole away, having six months provisions on board for men, and only forty-seven men in his ship. another mutiny happened at st sebastians by the treachery of an irishman, when mr knivet and other six persons were left on shore. [footnote : sir thomas candish seems not to have been aware, that the month of may, in these high antarctic or southern latitudes, was precisely analogous with november in the high latitudes of the north, and therefore utterly unfit for navigation.--e.] intending again to have attempted passing through the straits, he was tossed up and down in the tempestuous seas of the southern atlantic, and came even at one time within two leagues of st helena, but was unable to reach that island. in his last letter, he declares that, rather than return to england after so many disasters, he would willingly have gone ashore in an island placed in lat. ° in the charts. in this letter, he states himself to be then scarcely able to hold a pen; and we learn that he soon afterwards died of grief. the leicester, in which candish sailed, came home, as did the desire. the black pinnace was lost; but the fates of the roebuck and the dainty are no where mentioned. the miscarriage of this voyage was certainly prejudicial to the rising trade and spirit of naval adventure in england. the ruin of sir thomas candish threw a damp on such undertakings among the english gentlemen; and, on the return of these ships, several able and experienced seamen were turned adrift, to gain their livings as they best might. these thorough-bred seamen went to other countries; and, as knowledge is a portable commodity, they made the best market they could of their nautical experience in holland and elsewhere. among these was one mr mellish, who had been a favourite of sir thomas candish, and the companion of all his voyages. this person offered his services to the east india company of holland, then in its infancy; and, his proposals being accepted, he was employed as pilot in the circumnavigation of oliver van noort, which falls next in order to be related. § . _continuation of the voyage of the desire, captain davis, after parting from sir thomas candish_. not finding our general at port desire, as we had expected, and being very slenderly provided, without sails, boat, oars, nails, cordage, and other necessary stores, and very short of victuals, we were reduced to a very unpleasant situation, not knowing how to proceed. leaving ourselves, however, to the providence of the almighty, we entered the harbour, and, by the good favour of god, we found a quiet and safe road, which we knew not of before. having moored our ship, by the help of the boat belonging to the black pinnace, we landed on the southern shore of the bay, where we found a standing pool, which might contain some ten tons of fresh water, by which we were greatly relieved and comforted. from this pool we took more than forty tons of water, yet left it as full as at first. at our former visit to this harbour, we were at this very place and found no water, wherefore we persuaded ourselves that the almighty had sent this pool for our relief. we found here such remarkably low ebbs as we had never before seen, by means of which we procured muscles in great plenty. providence also sent such great abundance of smelts about our ship, that all the people were able to take as many as they could eat, with hooks made of crooked pins. by these means we husbanded the ship's provisions, and did not spend any of them during our abode at this place. considering what was best to be done in our present circumstances, that we might find our general, and as it was obvious we could not refit our ship for sea in less than a month, our captain and master concluded to take the pinnace and go in search of the general, leaving the ship and a considerable part of the men till the return of the general, who had vowed he would return again to the straits. hearing of this determination, two pestilent fellows, named charles parker and edward smith, secretly represented to the men, that the captain and master meant to leave them to be devoured by cannibals, and had no intention to come back; on which the whole company secretly agreed to murder the captain, master, and all those who were thought their friends, among whom i was included. this conspiracy was fortunately known to our boatswain, who revealed it to the master, and he to the captain. to appease this mutiny the captain found it necessary to desist from his intentions, and it was concluded not to depart, but to wait at port desire for the return of the general. after this the whole company, with one consent, made a written testimonial of the circumstances by which we had lost company of the general, and the indispensable necessity of returning home. in this testimony or protest, dated port desire, d june, , it is represented, that the shrouds of the ship are all rotten, the ropes all so decayed that they could not be trusted; the sails reduced to one shift all worn, of which the topsails were utterly unable to abide any stress of weather; the ship unprovided with pitch, tar, or nails for repairs of any kind, and no means of supplying these wants; the provisions reduced to five hogsheads of salt pork, and such quantity of meal as admitted only an allowance of three ounces for a man each day, and no drink remaining except water. this instrument is signed by john davis and randolph cotton, the captains of the desire and black pinnace, and thirty-eight more, but the name john jane, or lane, does not appear among them. after this, they proceeded to refit the ship with all expedition, for which purpose they built a smith's forge, making charcoal for its supply, and made nails, bolts, and spikes. others of the crew were employed in making ropes from a piece of cable; and others again in all the necessary repairs of the ship, sails, and rigging; while those not fit for such offices, gathered muscles and caught smelts for the whole company. three leagues from port desire there is an island, having four small isles about it, on which there are great abundance of seals, and where likewise penguins resort in vast numbers at the breeding season. to this island it was resolved to dispatch the black pinnace occasionally, to fetch seals for us to eat, when smelts and muscles failed, for we could get no muscles at neap-tides, and only when the ebb was very low. in this miserable and forlorn condition we remained till the th of august, , still keeping watch on the hills to look out for our general, suffering extreme anguish and vexation. our hope of the general's return becoming very cold, our captain and master were persuaded that he might have gone directly for the straits; wherefore it was concluded to go there and wait his coming, as there we could not possibly miss seeing him if he came. this being agreed to by the whole company, we set sail from port desire on the th august, and went to penguin island, where we salted twenty hogsheads of seals, which was as much as our salt could do. we departed from penguin island towards night of the th august, intending for the straits. the th we were driven among certain islands, never before discovered, fifty leagues or better from the shore, east-northerly from the straits.[ ] fortunately the wind shifted to the east, or we must have inevitably perished among these islands, and we were enabled to shape our course for the straits. [footnote : these are doubtless the falkland islands, or malouines, but to which no name seems to have been affixed on this occasion.--e.] we fell in with the cape [virgin] on the th of august, in a very thick fog, and that same night came to anchor ten leagues within the straits' mouth. the th we passed the first and second narrows, doubled cape froward on the st, and anchored on the d in a cove, or small bay, which we named _savage cove_, because we here found savages. notwithstanding the excessive coldness of this place, yet do these people go entirely naked, living in the woods like satyrs, painted and disguised in a strange manner, and fled from us like so many wild deer. they were very strong and agile, and threw stones at us, of three or four pounds weight, from an incredible distance. we departed from this cove on the th in the morning, and came that same day into the n.w. reach of the straits, which is its last or most western reach. on the th we anchored in a good cove, within fourteen leagues of the south sea, where we proposed to await the return of our general, as the strait at this place is only three miles broad, and he could not possibly pass unseen. after we had remained here a fortnight, in the depth of winter, our victuals fast consuming, and our salted seals stinking most vilely, our men fell sick and died pitifully, through famine and cold, as most of them had not clothes sufficient to defend them from the extreme rigour of winter. in this heavy distress, our captain and master thought it best to depart from the straits into the south sea, and to proceed for the island of santa maria in lat. ° s. on the coast of chili, which is situated in a temperate climate, where we might find relief, and could wait for our general, who must necessarily pass by that island. we accordingly set sail on the th september, and came in sight of the south sea. the th we were driven back into the straits, and got into a cove three leagues from the south sea. we again stood out, and being eight or ten leagues free of the land, the wind rose furiously at w.n.w. and we were again forced to return into the straits, not daring to trust to our sails in any stress of weather. we again got into the cove, three leagues from the eastern mouth of the straits, where we had such violent weather that one of our two remaining cables broke, and we were almost in despair of saving our lives. yet it pleased god to allay the fury of the storm, and we unreeved our sheets, tacks, halyards, and other ropes, and made fast our ship to the trees on shore, close by the rocks. we laboured hard to recover our anchor again, which we could not possibly effect, being, as we supposed, entirely covered over in the ooze. we were now reduced to one anchor, which had only one whole fluke; and had only one old cable, already spliced in two places, and a piece of another old cable. in this extremity of trouble it pleased god that the wind came fair on the st october, on which we loosed our land fastnings with all expedition, weighed our anchor, and towed off into the channel; for we had repaired our boat when in port desire, and got five oars from the black pinnace. on weighing our anchor we found the cable sore broken, holding only by one strand, which was a most merciful preservation. we now reeved our ropes and rigged our ship the best we could, every man working as if to save our lives in the utmost extremity. our company was now much divided in opinion as to how we should proceed for the best; some desiring to return to port desire, to be there set on shore, and endeavour to travel by land to some of the spanish settlements, while others adhered to the captain and master: but at length, by the persuasion of the master, who promised that they would find wheat, pork, and roots in abundance at the island of st mary, besides the chance of intercepting some ships on the coasts of chili and peru, while nothing but a cruel death by famine could be looked for in attempting to return by the atlantic, they were prevailed upon to proceed. so, on the d of october, , we again made sail into the south sea, and got free from the land. this night the wind again began to blow very strong at west, and increased with such violence that we were in great doubt what measures to pursue. we durst not put into the straits for lack of ground tackle, neither durst we carry sail, the tempest being very furious, and our sails very bad. in this extremity the pinnace bore up to us, informing she had received many heavy seas, and that her ropes were continually failing, so that they knew not what to do; but, unable to afford her any relief; we stood on our course in view of a lee shore, continually dreading a ruinous end of us all. the th october the storm increased to an extreme violence; when the pinnace, being to windward, suddenly _struck a hull_, when we thought she had sustained some violent shock of a sea, or had sprung a leak, or that her sails had failed, because she did not follow us. but we durst not _hull_ in this unmerciful storm, sometimes _trying_ under our main-course, sometimes with a _haddock_ of our sail; for our ship was very _leeward_, and laboured hard in the sea. this night we lost sight of the pinnace, and never saw her again. the th october, our foresail split, on which our master brought the mizen-sail to the foremast to make the ship work, and we mended our foresail with our spritsail. the storm still continued to rage with the most extreme fury, with hail, snow, rain, and wind, such and so mighty that it could not possibly in nature be worse; the seas running so lofty, and with a continual breach, that we many times were in doubt whether our ship did sink or swim. the th, the weather dark, the storm as furious as ever, most of the men having given over labour from fatigue and in despair, and being near the lee-shore by the reckoning both of the captain and master, we gave ourselves up for lost, past all remedy. while in this extremity of distress, the sun suddenly shone out clear, by which the captain and master were enabled to ascertain the latitude, and thereby knew what course to steer, so as to recover the straits. next day, the th october, we saw cape deseado, being the southern point of the entrance into the straits, for the northern point is a dangerous assemblage of rocks, shoals, and islands. the cape was now two leagues to leeward, and the master was even in doubt whether we might be able to steer clear of it; but there was no remedy, as we must either succeed or be irretrievably lost. our master, being a man of spirit, made quick dispatch, and steered for the straits. our sails had not been half an hour abroad for this purpose when the foot-rope of the fore-sail broke, so nothing held save the oilet-holes. the sea continually broke over our poop, and dashed with such violence against our sails, that we every moment looked to have them torn to pieces, or that the ship would overset. to our utter discomfort also, we perceived that she fell still more and more to leeward, so that we could not clear the cape. we were now within half a mile of the cape, and so near shore that the counter surge of the sea so rebounded against the side of our ship, that the horrors of our situation were undescribably awful. while in this utmost extremity, the wind and the sea raging beyond measure, and momentarily expecting to be driven upon the rocks, our master veered away some of the main-sheet: whether owing to this, or by some counter current, or by the wonderful interposition of god, our ship quickened her way and shot past the rock, where we all thought she must have perished. between this and the cape there was a small bay, so that we were now somewhat farther from the shore; but on coming to the cape, we again looked for nothing but instant death; yet god, the father of mercy, delivered us, and we doubled the cape little more than the length of our ship. when past the cape, we took in all our sails, and, being between the high lands, the wind _blowing trade_, or steadily in the direction of the straits, we spooned before the sea under bare poles, three men being unable to manage the helm, and in six hours we were driven twenty-five leagues within the straits. in this time we freed our ship from water, and when we had rested a while, our men became unable to move, their sinews being stiff, and their flesh as if dead. many of them were so covered and eaten with lice, that there lay clusters of them in their flesh as large as peas, yea, some as big as beans. in this state of misery we were constrained to put into a cove to refresh our men, where we moored to the trees as we had done before, our only anchor being to seaward. we here continued till the th of october; and being unable to continue longer, through the extremity of famine, we again put off into the channel on the d, the weather being then reasonably calm. before night the wind blew hard at w.n.w. the storm waxed so violent that our men could scarcely stand to their labour; and the straits being full of turnings and windings, we had to trust entirely to the discretion of the captain and master to guide the ship during the darkness of the night, when we could see no shore, and the straits were in some places scarcely three miles broad. when we first passed these straits, our captain made so excellent a draught of them, as i am confident cannot in any sort be made more correct. which draught he and the master so carefully considered, that they had every turning, creek, and head-land so perfectly in their memory, as enabled them, even in the deepest darkness of the night, undoubtingly to convey the ship through that crooked channel. the th october we came to an island in the straits, named penguine isle, where the boat was sent ashore to seek relief, as it abounded with birds, and the weather was calm; so we came to anchor near the island, in seven fathoms. while the boat was ashore, where we got abundance of penguins, there rose a sudden storm, by which our ship was driven over a breach, and our boat sunk at the shore. captain cotton and the lieutenant, who were both on shore, leapt into the boat, and freed it of water, throwing away the birds, and with great difficulty got back to the ship. all this time the ship was driving upon the lee-shore; and when we got on board, we helped to weigh the anchor and make sail. thus, in a severe storm, we got clear of the straits on the th october; and on the th we got to that penguin island which is three leagues from port desire, where we purposed to seek relief. immediately on coming to this isle, our boat was sent ashore, and returned laden with birds and eggs, the men reporting that the penguins were so thick on the isle, that even ships might be laden with them, as they could not step without treading on these birds; at which news we greatly rejoiced. then the captain appointed charles parker and edmund smith, with twenty others, to go on shore, and remain on the island, on purpose to kill and dry these penguins: promising to send others when the ship was safe in harbour, not only for expedition, but to save the small store of victuals that remained in the ship. but parker and smith, with the rest of their faction, remembering that this was the place where they intended formerly to have slain the captain and master, thought it was meant here to leave them on shore out of revenge, and refused to land. after some altercation, these men were allowed to proceed in the ship, and ten others were left in the island. the last day of october we entered the harbour of port desire. the master, having at our being there before taken notice of every creek in the river, ran our ship aground in a very convenient place on the sandy ooze, laying our anchor out to seawards, and mooring her with the running ropes to stakes on shore, in which situation the ship remained till our departure. the d november our boat was sent off for penguin island, with wood and water, and as many men as she could carry; but, being deep laden, she durst not proceed, and returned again the same night. then parker, smith, townsend, purpet, and five others, desired that they might go by land, and that the boat might fetch them from the shore opposite the isle, being scarcely a mile across. the captain bid them do as they thought best, only advised them to carry weapons, as they might meet with savages; so they accordingly carried calivers, swords, and targets, departing by land on the th november, while the boat went by sea. but these nine men were never more heard of. on the th, when most of our men were at the island, only the captain, master, and five more remaining in the ship, there came a great multitude of savages to the shore beside the ship, throwing dust into the air, leaping and running about like so many beasts, having vizards on their faces like dogs, or else their faces actually resembled dogs. we greatly feared they would have set the ship on fire, for they would suddenly make fire, at which we were greatly astonished. they came to windward of the ship, and set the bushes on fire, so that we were enveloped in a very stinking smoke; but coming within shot of us, we fired at them, and hitting one on the thigh, they all fled instantly away, and we never heard or saw them more. hence we judged that these savages had slain our nine men, who were the ringleaders of those who would formerly have murdered our captain and master, with the rest of their friends; so that god evidently drew just judgment upon them, and we supplicated his divine majesty to be merciful to us. while we lay in this harbour, our captain and master went one day in the boat to see how far the river could be penetrated, that if need enforced us, it might be known how far we might proceed by water. they found that this river was only navigable by the boat for twenty miles. on their return, the boat was sent to penguin island, by which we learnt that the penguins dried to our entire satisfaction, and were in infinite numbers. this penguin is shaped like a bird, having stumps only in place of wings, by which it swims under water as swiftly as any fish. they live upon smelts, which are found in vast abundance on this coast. in eating, these penguins seem neither fish nor flesh. they lay large eggs; and the bird is about as large as two ducks. all the time we remained at port desire, we fared well on penguins and their eggs, young seals, young gulls, and other birds of which i know not the names, all of which we had in vast abundance. in this place also we found plenty of an herb called scurvy-grass, which we eat fried in seal-oil along with eggs, which so purified the blood, that it entirely removed all kind of swellings, of which many had died, and restored us all to as perfect health as when we first left england. we remained in this harbour till the d of december, , in which time we had dried , penguins. in this time also the captain, with the master and i, made some salt, by filling some holes in the rocks with sea-water, which in six days was changed to salt by evaporation, it being now midsummer in this southern hemisphere. thus did god feed us in the desert, even as with manna from heaven. the d december we departed from port desire for penguin island, where, with great difficulty, we got , of the dried birds on board, during which we had nearly lost our captain; and had not our master been very expert in the set of the tides, which ran in many cross directions, we had lost our ship. we now shaped our course for brazil, under a regulated allowance of provisions, so that our victuals might last six months, in which time we hoped we might get back to england, though our sails were very bad. this allowance was, two ounces and a half of meal for each man, two days only in the week, or five ounces for a week; three days a week, three spoonfulls of oil were allowed to each man; two days a week, a pint of peas among four men; and every day five dried penguins among four men, with six quarts of water each day to four men. with this allowance, praised be god, we lived, though weak and feeble. the th january, , we arrived at the isle of placencia, or ilha grande, in brazil, the first place at which we touched when outwards bound. the ship laying off at sea, the captain went aland in the boat with twenty-four men, being the whole night before he could reach the shore. he landed next day at sun-rise, hoping to catch the portuguese in their houses, and by that means to procure a supply of casava meal; but on coming to the houses, we found them all burnt to the ground, so that we thought no one had remained on the island. the captain then went to the gardens, whence he brought a quantity of fruits and roots for the company, and returned on board. he then brought the ship into a fine creek, where she was moored to the trees on each side, at a place where we had plenty of fresh water. our case being very desperate, we presently set to work to trim and repair our water-casks, the coopers making new hoops; while others laboured to repair the sails, keeping always a guard on shore, and every man having always his weapons ready at hand. the d february, thirty men well armed went to the gardens, three miles from where the ship lay, to dig cassavi-roots, to serve our company instead of bread. this was again repeated on the th. they laboured in quietness all the morning; and about ten o'clock, the heat being extreme, they came to a rock near the side of the wood, where they boiled cassavi-roots for dinner. after dinner, some went to sleep, and others to bathe in the sea, no one keeping watch, not a match lighted, nor even a piece charged. while in this unprovided state, and out of sight from the ship, there came suddenly upon them a multitude of portuguese and indians, who slew them all to the number of thirteen, two only escaping, one of these very sore hurt, and the other not touched, from whom we learnt the circumstances of this sad massacre. we manned the boat with all speed, and went ashore, if happily we might succour our men; but we found them all slain, and laid naked in a row, with their faces upwards, and a cross set up beside them. we saw also two large pinnaces coming from rio de janeiro, full of men, who, as we supposed, were intended to take us. we were now much reduced, as of seventy-six persons we had on board when we left england, there were now only twenty-seven of us remaining, thirty-two having died formerly, and thirteen being slain in this place. between those formerly slain by the savages at port desire, and those now in the island of placencia by the portuguese, all those who had conspired to murder our captain and master were now cut off, the gunner only excepted. our casks were so greatly decayed, that we could not take in a sufficient supply of water, and what we had was exceedingly bad. having lost several muskets on shore, which had belonged to our slain men, with good store of powder and shot, we expected to be beaten from our decks by means of our own weapons, by the portuguese on the island, joined by those coming from janeiro: and as we were moored to the trees, for want of cables and anchors, we were in dread of having our mooring ropes cut. in this miserable state we knew not what measures to pursue. to depart with only eight tons of bad water, and in bad casks, were to run the risk of starving at sea, and to remain seemed inevitable ruin. these were severe alternatives; but in our perplexity we preferred trusting to the hand of god than to the mercy of our enemies, and concluded to depart. wherefore, on the th february, we unmoored and removed our ship into the channel, putting all our ordnance and small arms in readiness in case of an assault, and having a small gale of wind, we put to sea in deep distress. thus bemoaning our sad estate, and recounting our past misfortunes, we came to cape frio; being much crossed for three weeks by contrary winds, and our water running short, we were reduced to the utmost distress and perplexity. some of the people were desirous of going into bahia, and submitting to the portuguese, rather than die of thirst; but our captain persuaded them against this measure. in this extremity, it pleased god to send us such abundant rain, that we were enabled to supply ourselves with water. on getting into the hot climate near the line, our dried penguins began to corrupt, and there bred in them many loathsome worms, an inch in length. these worms increased with astonishing rapidity, devouring our victuals so fast that we now seemed doomed to die of famine, as before of thirst we were even in danger of being eaten up by these worms, which devoured every thing except iron. they so gnawed the timbers of our ship, that we feared they would eat holes through her sides. we used every possible contrivance to destroy these noisome vermin, but they seemed only to increase so much the more, so that at last they would eat our flesh, and bite us like mosquitoes when we were asleep. in this woeful plight, after we had passed the equator towards the north, our men began to fall sick of a most terrible disease, such as, i believe, was never before heard of. it began with a swelling in their ankles, which in two days rose up as high as their breasts, so that they could not breathe. it then fell into the scrotum, which, with the penis, swelled in a most grievous manner, so that they could neither stand, walk, nor lie; and many of them became frantic with grief and distress. our captain, with extreme distress of mind, was in so miserable a condition, that he wished to die; yet, while scarcely able to speak for sorrow, he continued to exhort us all to patience and reliance on god, desiring us to accept our chastisement like dutiful and thankful children. in this state of misery and wretchedness, several died raving mad, and others in a most loathsome state, or in dreadful pain and agony. none in the ship remained in perfect health, except the captain and one boy; the master also, though oppressed with extreme labour and anxiety, bore up with spirit, so that his disease did not overcome him. at length all our men died except sixteen, five only of whom were able to move. these were, the captain, who was in good health, the master indifferent, captain cotton and myself swollen and short-winded, yet better than the other sick men, and the boy in good health. upon us five the whole labour of the ship rested. the captain and master, as happened to be necessary, took in and left out the topsails. the master by himself attended to the sprit-sail, and all of us the capstan, being utterly unable to work sheets and tacks. our misery and weakness were so extreme, that we were utterly unable to take in or set a sail; so that our top-sails and sprit-sail were at length torn in pieces by the weather. the captain and master had to take their turns at the helm, where they were inexpressibly grieved and distressed by the continual and sad lamentations of our few remaining sick men. thus lost wanderers on the ocean, unable to help ourselves, it pleased god, on the th of june, , that we arrived at beerhaven in ireland, and ran the ship there on shore. the irish helped us to take in our sails, and to moor the ship so as to float her off next tide; for which slender aid it cost the captain ten pounds, before he could get the ship into a state of safety. thus, without men, sails, victuals, or other means, god alone guided us into ireland. here the captain left the master and three or four more of the company to keep the ship; and within five days after our arrival, he and some others got a passage in a fishing-boat to padstow in cornwall. for the merciful preservation of this our small remnant, and our restoration to our country, be all honour and glory to god, now and for ever.--_amen_. chapter iv. voyage of oliver van noort round the world in -- .[ ] * * * * * introduction. the inhabitants of the united provinces of the netherlands, after their separation from the spanish monarchy, found themselves extremely at a loss for means to supply the expences of the long and vigorous war in which they were engaged for the defence of their liberties. this gave them the more uneasiness, as their great enemy, philip ii. carried on the war against them, more by the length of his purse than the force of his arms, and because the riches, of the spanish monarchy were derived from sources of commerce and colonization that were prohibited to them, even if they had submitted themselves to the yoke of spain. the sense, therefore, of these difficulties, joined to the vast advantages they were likely to reap by overcoming them, induced the government and people of holland to prosecute the advancement of trade in general with the greatest vigour, and particularly to establish a commercial intercourse with the east and west indies, the great sources of wealth to their tyrannical oppressor and enemy, from whom they had revolted. [footnote : harris, i. .--two editions of this voyage were published in dutch, both in folio; one at rotterdam without date; and the other at amsterdam in . _bib, univer. des voyages_, i. .] among other inducements to this course of proceeding, they were not a little encouraged by the progress made by their neighbours, the english; seeing that even private persons, and with a small force, had been able to disquiet the spaniards exceedingly; and had at the same time acquired great riches to themselves. another cause of attempting expeditions like the present, was their having failed in their first scheme of finding a new passage to the east indies, than that with which the spaniards and portuguese were acquainted, which they had often and unsuccessfully endeavoured to explore by the north-east, with great hazard and expence. their first voyages to the east indies proving more fortunate even than they themselves had expected, they were tempted to proceed farther, and to distress their enemies likewise in the south sea, which hitherto had only been done by the english. the distressed states of holland, however, were not hitherto so powerful at sea as to attempt acting offensively against the king of spain on that element; but contented themselves with giving power and authority to any of their subjects who were inclined to venture upon expeditions of this nature, at their own risk and expence, so as at the same time to join their own private advantage with the public good, by fitting out squadrons for these distant and hazardous voyages. this policy, though arising in some measure from necessity, was conducted with such wisdom and address, that the king of spain soon found himself more distressed by the armaments of the dutch merchants, than by all the forces of the united states. this is a plain proof; that the surest way to render any government powerful, is to interest the people in general in its support: for this raises such spirit among them, and is followed by such unexpected consequences, as no art or force can withstand. in the beginning of the year , some eminent merchants in the united provinces, among whom were peter van bueren, hugo gerritz, and john bennick, formed a design of sending some stout ships through the straits of magellan into the south sea, to cruise against the spaniards; to which design they were chiefly instigated by the reports of many english seamen, who had served in these parts, under drake, candish, and hawkins, and other experienced officers. the purpose of the present expedition, was to cruise upon the coasts belonging to the spaniards, and to force the enemy of peace to bear the expences of those wars in which he obliged other people unwillingly to engage. they also proposed by it to gain nautical experience, if it should be found practicable to continue the voyage by the philippines, and so round by the cape of good hope, circumnavigating the globe. as the success of this important enterprise greatly depended upon the choice of a _general_, for so in those days the dutch, and most other nations, denominated the commander in chief, whether by sea or land, the adventurers took great care to provide themselves with a person of established character, both in regard to conduct and courage. the person chosen on this occasion was oliver van noort, a native of utrecht, in the flower of his age, and who had a strong passion to acquire glory. to him they communicated their scheme, which he readily embraced; and their terms being speedily adjusted, they proceeded to fit out two stout vessels one named the maurice, and the other the henry frederick, together with two yachts, railed the concord and the hope, the whole being manned by persons of all ranks and conditions. of this small fleet, oliver van noort was appointed admiral, and sailed in the maurice; james claas van ulpenda was captain of the henry frederick, with the title of vice-admiral, captain peter van lint commanded the concord, and john huidecoope was captain of the hope. these were all men of experience in sea affairs, and capable of maintaining their authority on all occasions, and were all interested in the success of the voyage, by means of shares in the outfit; a proper precaution then, and ever since usual among the dutch in all such cases, to prevent their expeditions from suffering by private views, or want of hearty concurrence in their officers: which, among other nations, is often the cause of failure, and for which this method is, perhaps, the only cure. all things being in readiness, and crews provided for all the vessels, the proprietors presented a petition to the board of admiralty of rotterdam, upon which all who were concerned were summoned to compeer: and, on the th june, , the rules and regulations for the government of all concerned in this expedition, having been previously drawn up by the company of adventurers, revised by the admiralty and approved of by the stadtholder, prince maurice, were publicly read over to them, and every man sworn to obey them. these sailing orders are called artykelbreefs by the dutch, and are never suffered to be put in force, till they have received this kind of sanction from the state, when they become the law of the voyage, to which all concerned are subject, and must undergo the penalties contained in them, for breach of any of the articles. this circumstance is worthy of remark and imitation by other nations, and is a strong proof of the care paid by that republic to the commercial welfare of its citizens. section i. _narrative of the voyage_. on the th of september, , the maurice and concord sailed from the port of gocree; and, being joined by the henry frederick and hope, from amsterdam, the whole fleet proceeded for plymouth, where their english pilot, mr mellish, who had been the companion of sir thomas candish in his navigations, was to take in his apparel and other necessaries. they sailed from plymouth on the th september, the wind then blowing a fresh gale at n.e. next morning, being out of the channel, they perceived that the boat belonging to the vice-admiral was missing, in which were six men, which gave them considerable uneasiness, insomuch that they had some intention of returning to plymouth in search of them. they met, however, with an english privateer, which soon made them alter their intentions; by assuring them that their men had run away with the boat, and could not be recovered, on which they resolved to proceed on their voyage. at this time considerable jealousies sprung up, respecting the capacity and conduct of the vice-admiral, which were soon increased by his losing his other boat and one man, and which could not be recovered by all their care. this carelessness occasioned much murmuring and discontent among the seamen, which the vice-admiral daily increased by his haughty behaviour, and by his contempt for advice, which no man needed more than he. the th october, they met a small fleet of english, dutch, and french ships, returning from barbary, from whom they had accounts of a terrible pestilence then raging in that country, which had swept away , persons in a very short space of time. the th, they came between the islands of teneriff and grand canary, and on the d november, they came in sight of the coast of guinea. december th they were off cape palma, in lat. ° ' n.[ ] and on the th came in sight of princes island, in lat. ° n.[ ] sending their boats ashore to this island, carrying a flag of truce, they were met on the shore by a negro, bearing a similar flag, from whom they demanded a supply of provisions, which was accorded on fair and friendly terms; but, while settling the terms, they were suddenly surprised by a party from an ambush, which cut off several of them, one of whom was mr mellish, their english pilot. the portuguese pursued them to their boats, which they briskly attached, killing the admiral's brother, and had nearly captured the whole party. in revenge of this outrage, it was determined in a council of war to attack the castle; but finding this enterprize too hazardous, they contented themselves with burning all the sugar ingenios. after this exploit, having provided themselves with fresh water, they set sail on the th. [footnote : cape formosa is probably here meant, which is in ° ' n.--e.] [footnote : the latitude of princes island is ° ' n.--e.] they reached cape gonçalves on the th, where the wind usually blows from the land all night, and from the sea all day. here they found two dutch ships, which informed them of the loss of captain sleerhagen and most of his company at princes island; as also of the voyage of peter verhagen, who had entered the river of congo, and had afterwards buried thirty-eight of his company at cape gonçalves, whence he had gone some time before their arrival to annobon. january st, , they passed the island of annobon, in lat. ° s. [ ° ' s.] and on the th of that month had the sun in their zenith. the th of march they reached cape st thomas on the coast of brazil, in lat. ° s. [ ° ']. the th they passed cape fair, and came that evening to cape frio, and on the th reached rio de janeiro. after some loss of time, and having several of their men cut off by their grand enemy the portuguese, they went to the island of st sebastian, in lat. ° s. where the comforts of a good harbour, plenty of fresh water, and an abundant supply of wood gave them much satisfaction; but no fruits were to be had at that season. they encountered a heavy storm on the th of march, by which the vice-admiral and the hope were separated from the admiral, but they met again on the th. the scurvy now began to make rapid progress among the company; which, together with the approach of the antarctic winter, determined them to put in at st helena. missing that island, they next endeavoured to fall in with the island of ascension, or some other island where they might procure refreshments; but their hard fortune brought them to a very barren and desolate island in the lat. of ° ' s.[ ] where they could procure no refreshments, except a few fowls called _malle mewen,_[ ] which they knocked down with clubs. [footnote : the island of trinidad is nearly in the indicated latitude.--e.] [footnote : these were probably young unfledged sea-gulls, called in provincial english _malls, maws_, and _mews,_ not unlike the dutch names in the text; where perhaps we ought to read malle _or_ mewen.--e.] soon leaving this inhospitable place, they put to sea again, and on the st of june, while endeavouring to reach ascension, they got back to the coast of brazil. not being suffered to land any where on the continent, they sailed to the isle of santa clara, an island of about a mile round, and as much from the continent, in lat. ° ' s. this island afforded little else beyond herbs, but they found here a sour fruit resembling plums, which cured all their sick men in fifteen days. they sailed from thence for port desire, in lat ° ' s. on the th june, and reached that place on the th september, after enduring much bad weather. they procured abundance of penguins and fish, at an island three miles south from port desire; killing to the number of , penguins, which are nearly as large as geese, and procured a vast quantity of their eggs, by which their people were greatly refreshed, and the sick restored. going up the river on the th october, and landing in the country, they found animals resembling stags, together with buffaloes, and ostriches in great numbers, and even found some of the nests of these birds, in which were as far as nineteen eggs. the th, the admiral went ashore to view the country, leaving orders with those who were left in charge of the boats, not to leave them a moment on any account: but they, having a mind also to see the country, ventured upon a short ramble, when they fell into an ambush of the savages, who slew three of their number, and wounded the fourth. these savages were very tall portly men, painted, and armed with short bows, and arrows headed with stone. leaving port desire on the th september, they reached cape virgin at the entrance into the straits of magellan on the th november. the land here is low and plain, and from the whiteness of the coast somewhat resembles the chalk cliffs of england in the channel. in many attempts to enter the straits, they were beaten back by tempests of wind, accompanied by rain, hail, and snow. they lost their anchors, and broke their cables, and sickness, together with contention, which is worse than any disease, were added to their other calamities. all these so retarded the progress of the voyage, that it was near fifteen months after leaving holland before they could make their way into the straits. they observed the land to trend from cape virgin to the s.w. and the mouth of the straits to be fourteen miles distant from that cape, and half a mile wide.[ ] on the th november, they saw some men on two islands near cape nassau, who shook their weapons at the hollanders, as in defiance. the dutch landed, and pursued the savages into a cave, which they bravely defended to the last man, and were all slain on the spot. going now into this dark cave, the dutch found the women and children of the slain savages, when the mothers, expecting present death to themselves and their infants, covered their little ones with their own bodies, as if determined to receive the first stab. but the dutch did them no other injury, except taking away four boys and two girls, whom they carried on ship board. [footnote : these must necessarily be dutch miles, to the degree, each equal to nearly . english miles. by the mouth of the straits in the text, must be understood what is called the narrows of the hope.--e.] from one of these boys, after he had learnt the dutch language, they had the following intelligence. the larger of the two islands was named _castemme_ by the natives, and the tribe inhabiting it _enoo_. the smaller island was called _talche_. both were frequented by great numbers of penguins, the flesh of which served the natives as food, and their skins for cloathing. their only habitations were caves. the neighbouring continent abounded in ostriches, which they also used as food. the natives of these dreary regions were distinguished into tribes, each having their respective residences. the _kemenetes_ dwelt in _kaesay;_ the _kennekin_ in _karamay_; the _karaiks_ in _morina_: all these are of the ordinary size, but broad-breasted, and painted all over; the men tying up their pudenda in a string, and the women covering their parts of shame with the skins of a penguin; the men wearing their hair long, while that of the women was kept very short; and both sexes going naked, except cloaks made of penguin skins, reaching only to the waist. there was also a fourth tribe, called _tirimenen_, dwelling in _coin_, who were of a gigantic stature, being ten or twelve feet high,[ ] and continually at war with the other tribes. [footnote : this absurdity might be pardoned in the ignorant savage boy, who knew neither numerals nor measures; but in the grave reporters it is truly ridiculous, and yet the lie has been renewed almost down to the close of the eighteenth century.--e.] the th november, the navigators went over to the continent, or north side of the straits, seeing some whales at a distance, and observed a pleasant river, about which were some beautiful trees with many parrots. owing to this fine prospect, they called the mouth of this river _summer bay_. the th they made sail for _port famine_, where the land trends so far to the south, that the main land of patagonia and the islands of terra del fuego seemed, when seen afar off, to join together. they found here no remains of the late city of king philip, except a heap of stones. the straits are here four miles wide, having hills of vast height on both sides, perpetually covered with snow. at port famine they cut down wood to build a boat, and found the bark of the trees to be hot and biting like pepper.[ ] not finding good water at this place, and indeed doubting if it were port famine, they proceeded onwards, and found a good river two miles farther west on the st december. next day they doubled cape froward, with some danger, on account of bad anchorage and contrary winds. [footnote : the wintera aromatica, the bark of which is called winter's bark, said to have been first discovered by captain winter in , on the coast of terra magellanica. the sailors employed this bark as a spice, and found it salutary in the scurvy.--e.] passing four miles beyond this cape, they anchored in a large bay, where was a plant resembling sneezwort, which they found serviceable in the scurvy; also another plant, which rendered those who eat of it distracted for a time. they here fell in with two ships belonging to the fleet under verhagen, which had been driven back out of the south sea, one of which was commanded by sebaldt de weert, who told them he had been five months in the straits, and had only thirty-eight remaining out of men, and not being able to bear up against the storms in the south sea, had been forced to put in here, while the rest of the fleet under verhagen held on their course.[ ] these ships wished to have joined the expedition under van noort, but were forced to remain in the straits for want of provisions, which the others could not spare. they afterwards got back to holland on the th july, . [footnote : the voyage of verhagen, or so much of it rather as relates to the adventures of sebaldt de weert, follows the present voyage of van noort in the collection by harris, vol. i. pp. - ; and is, therefore, retained in the same situation on the present occasion.--e.] van noort and his ships left this bay on the d january, , directing their course for maurice bay, which they found to extend far to the eastwards, and to receive several rivers, the mouths of which were filled with vast quantities of ice, which seemed never to melt. it was now near midsummer of this southern clime, and the ice was so thick that they could not find its bottom with a line of ten fathoms. the land here seemed a congeries of broken islands, yet appearing like one continued mass, owing to the height of the mountains. they were here much distressed by hunger and continual rains, and two of their men were slain by the savages, while gathering muscles, which formed their chief subsistence. after weathering many storms in _meniste_ bay, and having several encounters with the savages, they set sail on the th, and were driven into penguin bay, or goose bay, three miles from meniste bay, and receiving its name from the vast multitude of penguins found there. at this place, james claas van ulpenda, the vice-admiral, was arraigned before a council of war, for various breaches of the articles sworn to before proceeding on the voyage. having a fair trial, and sufficient time allowed him for his defence, he was condemned to be turned ashore in the straits, with a small supply of provisions, and allowed to shift for himself among the wild beasts and more savage inhabitants, which sentence was accordingly executed, so that he doubtless soon fell a prey either to hunger or the natives, who are implacable enemies to all strangers. they entered another bay on the st february, which they called popish bay, probably owing to some cross erected on its shore, and in which they were exposed to much danger. on the th, they saw at a distance a huge mountain of ice in penguin bay. the th they passed cape deseado, or desire, into the south sea, bidding adieu to the many dismal prospects of the straits of magellan. their company, originally men, was now reduced to , but was soon still farther lessened by losing company of the henry frederick, which never rejoined. waiting for that ship in vain till the th march, they sailed to the island of mocha on the coast of chili, in lat. ° ' s. and six miles [twenty english] from the continent. this island is remarkable by a high mountain in the middle, which is cloven at the top, and whence a water-course descends into the vale land at its foot. they here bartered knives and hatchets with the natives for sheep, poultry, maize, _bartulas_,[ ] and other fruits. the town consisted of about fifty straw huts, where the dutch were regaled with a sour kind of drink, called _cici_, made of maiz steeped in water, which is the favourite drink of the chilese at their feasts. polygamy is much practised among these people, who buy as many wives as they can afford to maintain; so that a man who has many daughters, especially if they be handsome, is accounted rich. if one man kill another, he is judged by the relations of the deceased, as they have no laws or magistrates among them, so that the murderer may sometimes buy off his punishment by giving a drinking-bout of _cici_. their cloathing is manufactured from the wool of a large kind of sheep, which animal they also employ to carry burdens. they would not sell any of these, but parted freely with another kind, not very different. [footnote : this probably means battatas or potatoes, a native production of chili.--e.] from thence they went to the island of st mary, in lat. ° s. eighteen miles [ninety-five english] from mocha, where they fell in with a spanish ship carrying lard and meal from conception to valdivia in araucania, which they chased and took. the pilot of this ship informed them that they would not be able to return to the island of st mary, owing to the south wind, and that two spanish ships of war were waiting for them at arica. upon this information they resolved to sail for valparaiso, and by that means quite lost all chance of being rejoined by the henry frederick, which might otherwise have got up with them. besides, they concluded that the missing ship had failed to find st mary's isle, owing to its being wrong placed in the map of plancius, in lat. ° s. which error they themselves had fallen into, had they not been set right by the observations of mr mellish. they were farther confirmed in the resolution of not returning to the island of st mary, by hearing of the misfortune which had there befallen simon de cordes, who was there butchered with twenty-three of his men, after being invited on shore in a friendly manner by the indians, owing to the treachery of the spaniards endeavouring to get possession of his two ships, and sending intelligence to lima and all about the country of the arrival of the dutch in these seas, with a list of their ships, and the names of all their commanders. for these reasons they proceeded to valparaiso, where they took two ships and killed some indians, but all the spaniards escaped on shore. valparaiso is in lat. ° ' s. and about eighteen miles inland, [ english miles] is the town of st jago, abounding in red wine and sheep. they kill these animals merely for the sake of their tallow, with which alone they load many vessels. here they received letters from the captain of the flying hart, one of the squadron under verhagen, who had been treacherously captured by the spaniards; owing, as he alleged, to the wrong placement of the island of st mary in the map, by which he had been misled. at valparaiso they intercepted some letters giving an account of the wars in chili between the spaniards and the indians, who it seems were in rebellion, had sacked the town of valdivia, putting vast numbers of spaniards to the sword, and carrying off many captives. they burnt the houses and churches, knocking off the heads of the popish images, crying, "down go the gods of the spaniards." they then crammed the mouths of these images with gold, bidding them satisfy themselves with that, for the sake of which their votaries had committed so many barbarous massacres of their nation. they afterwards laid close siege to the city of imperial, and had almost starved the spanish garrison into a surrender. the valiant indians who undertook this enterprise were about , of whom were cavalry, were armed with muskets, and had corslets, all of which were plunder they had taken from the spaniards. they so mortally hate the spaniards, that they rip up the breasts of all they overcome, tearing out their hearts with their teeth, and they delight to drink their favourite liquor from a cup made of a spaniard's skull. these indians [the araucans] are for the most part very stout, and skilful soldiers, and commit the management of all their military affairs to the direction of one supreme general, whose orders are implicitly obeyed. their method of election to this high dignity is very singular; for he who carries a certain log of wood on his shoulders the longest, and with the smallest appearance of weariness, is saluted general by the army. in this trial several carried the log four, five, and six hours; but at length one carried it twenty-four hours on end, and this person was now general. the whole of chili, from st jago to valdivia, is one of the most fertile and most delightful countries in the world. it abounds in all kinds of cattle and fruit, has many rich gold mines, and its climate is so sweet and salubrious as to exclude the use of medicine, being health and life in itself. they entered the bay of guasco[ ] on the st april, where they remained till the th. the th they came into a large bay, named _moro gorch_, in lat. ° ' s. ten miles from which is _moro moreno_, from which the shore runs to arica, and all this coast, up to the hill of st francis, is very much subject to south winds, though the adjoining seas have the winds variable and uncertain. on the th the whole air was darkened by an _arenal_ which is a cloud of dust, and so thick that one cannot see a stone's throw. these are raised by the wind from the adjoining shore, and are very common in these parts. the th they were within view of the famous city of lima in peru. at this time they learnt the value of the treasure of which the spaniards had deprived them, in the ships they took on the coast of chili. nicholas peterson, the captain of one of these prizes, acquainted van noort that he had been informed by a negro of a great quantity of gold having been on board the ship, as he believed to the amount of three tons, having helped to carry a great part of it on board. on this information the admiral closely examined the spanish pilot, who at first denied all knowledge of any gold; but another negro having corroborated the information, with some farther circumstances, the pilot at last owned that they had on board fifty-two chests, each containing four arobas of gold, and besides these bars of the same metal, weighing from eight to ten and twelve pounds each; all of which, together with what private stock belonged to any of the company, the captain had ordered to be thrown overboard in the night, when first chased, amounting in the whole to about , pounds weight of gold; and, from its fineness, worth about two million pieces of eight, or spanish silver dollars. upon this the admiral ordered the ship and all the prisoners to be searched, but there was only found a single pound of gold dust, tied up in a rag, in the breeches pocket of the spanish pilot. the prisoners owned that all this gold was brought from the island of st mary, from mines discovered only three years before; and that there were not more than three or four spaniards on that island, and about indians, only armed with bows and arrows. [footnote : perhaps huasco in lat. ° ' s. or it may possibly have been guacho, in ° ' s.--e.] the th september they came in sight of the ladrones, and came on the th to guam, one of these an island of about twenty dutch miles in extent, and yielding fish, cocoa-nuts, bananas, and sugar canes, all of which the natives brought to the ships in a great number of canoes. sometimes they met of these canoes at one time, with four or five men in each, bawling out _hiero, hiero,_ meaning iron; and often in their eagerness they run their canoes against the ships, overturning them and losing all their commodities. these islanders were a sly subtle people, and honest with good looking after; for otherwise, they would sell a basket of cocoa-nut shells covered over with a small quantity of rice, as if full of rice. they would also snatch a sword from its scabbard, and plunge instantly into the water, where they dived like so many ducks; and the women were as roguish as the men, stealing as impudently, and diving as expertly to carry off their prizes. the th of september they sailed for the philippines; and on the th they met with ice, though then only in the latitude of ° n.[ ] on the th october they came to bayla bay, in a very fertile land, at which place they procured abundance of all kinds of necessaries for their ships, by pretending to be spaniards. the spaniards, who are lords here, make the indians pay an annual capitation tax, to the value of ten single rials for every one above twenty years of age. the natives of these islands are mostly naked, having their skins marked with figures so deeply impressed, [_tatooed_] that they never wear out. being discovered to be dutch, but not till they had gained their ends, they sailed for the straits of manilla, all the coasts near which appeared waste, barren, and rocky. here a sudden squall of wind from the s.e. carried away some of their masts and sails, being more furious than any they had hitherto experienced during the voyage. the d some of the people went ashore, where they eat palmitoes and drank water so greedily, that they were afterwards seized with the dysentery. the th they entered the straits, sailing past an island in the middle, and came in the evening past the island of capul, seven miles within the straits, near which they found whirlpools, where the sea was of an unfathomable depth, so far as they could discover. [footnote : this surely is an error for °, guam being in lat. ° ' n. yet even here, the fact of meeting ice so far within the tropic is sufficiently singular.--e.] they now crowded sail for manilla, which is eighty miles from capul, but wanted both a good wind to carry them, and good maps and a skilful pilot to direct them to that place. the th november they took a junk from china, laden with provisions for manilla. the master of this junk told them there were then at manilla two great ships, that come every year from new spain, and a dutch ship also which had been brought from malacca. he said also that the town of manilla was walled round, having two forts for protecting the ships, as there was a vast trade to that place from china, not less than junks coming every year from chincheo, with silk and other valuable commodities, between easter and december. there were also two ships expected shortly from japan, laden with iron and other metals, and provisions. the th they took two barks, laden with hens and hogs, being part of the tribute to the spaniards, but became food to the dutch, who gave them a few bolts of linen in return. they passed the islands of _bankingle_ and _mindoro_, right over against which is the island of _lou-bou_. at the distance of two miles, and between both is another small island, beside which there is a safe passage for ships. the island of luzon is larger than england and scotland,[ ] and has a numerous cluster of small islands round about it; yet is more beholden to trade for its riches, than to the goodness of its soil. while at anchor, in ° n. waiting for the ships said to be coming from japan, van noort took one of them on the st december, being a vessel of fifty tons, which had been twenty-five days on her voyage. her form was very strange, her forepart being like a chimney, and her furniture corresponding to her shape; as her sails were made of reeds, her anchors of wood, and her cables of straw. her japanese mariners had their heads all close shaven, except one tuft left long behind, which is the general custom of that country. the th, they took two barks, one laden with cocoa wine and arrack, and the other with hens and rice. [footnote : luzon is certainly a large island, but by no means such as represented in the text.--e.] the th of december they met the two spanish ships returning from manilla to new spain, on which a very sharp engagement took place. overpowered by numbers, the dutch in the ship of van noort were reduced to the utmost extremity, being at one time boarded by the spaniards, and almost utterly conquered; when van noort, seeing all was lost without a most resolute exertion, threatened to blow up his ship, unless his men fought better and beat off the spaniards. on this, the dutch crew fought with such desperate resolution, that they cleared their own ship, and boarded the spanish admiral, which at last they sunk outright. in this action the dutch admiral had five men slain, and twenty-six wounded, the whole company being now reduced to thirty-five men. but several hundreds of the spaniards perished, partly slain in the fight, and partly drowned or knocked in the head after the battle was over. but the dutch lost their pinnace, which was taken by the spanish vice-admiral; and this was not wonderful, considering that she had only twenty-five men to fight against five hundred spaniards and indians. after this action, van noort made sail for the island of borneo, the chief town of which island is in lat. ° n. while manilla, the capital of luçon, is in lat. ° n. on the way to borneo, they passed the island of _bolutam_, [palawan or paragua,] which is miles in length from n.e. to s.w. they came to borneo on the th december, putting into a great bay, three miles in compass, where there was good anchorage, and abundance of fish in a neighbouring river, and the fishermen always ready to barter their fish for linen. van noort sent a message to the king, desiring leave to trade; but suspecting them to be spaniards, he would come to no terms till his officers had examined them with the utmost attention, after which they had trade for pepper with a people called _pattannees_, of chinese origin. both these and the native borneans were fond of chinese cotton cloth, but the linen from holland was a mere drug, and quite unsaleable. in the mean time, the borneans laid a plot to surprise the ship; for which purpose, on the st january, , they came with at least an hundred praws full of men, pretending to have brought presents from the king, and would have come on board the ship; but the dutch, suspecting their treachery, commanded them to keep at a distance from the ship, or they would be obliged to make them do so with their shot, on which the borneans desisted. borneo is the largest of all the islands in the east-indies; and its capital, of the same name, contains about houses, but is built in a dirty marshy soil, or rather in the water, so that the inhabitants have to go from one house to another in their praws. the inhabitants all go constantly armed, from the noble down to the fisherman; and even the women are of so martial a disposition, that on receiving an affront, they instantly revenge it, either with a dagger or a javelin. this a dutchman had nearly proved to his cost; for having offended one of these viragoes, she set upon him with a javelin, and had surely dispatched him, if she had not been prevented by main force. they are mahometans, and so very superstitious, that they would rather die than eat of swine's flesh, nor will they keep any of these animals about them. the better sort have a cotton garment from the waist down, with a turban on their heads; but the common people go entirely naked. they continually chew betel and areka, which is also a common practice in many other parts of india. on the th january, four borneans came to the ship, intending to have cut the cables, that she might drive on shore and become their prey; but the dutch fortunately discovered them, and drove them away with shot, when they left their praw behind, which the dutch took, to serve instead of their own boat, which they had lost at the philippines. seeing no hope of any profitable trade at this place, they now left it, intending for bantam, not much pleased either with the country or the people. the day after leaving borneo, they met a junk from japan bound for manilla, which informed them of a great dutch ship being forced by tempests into japan, all her company having died by sickness and famine except fourteen. they came first to _bongo_, in lat. ° ' n. [bungo in about lat. ° n.] whence the emperor of japan ordered them to remove to _atonza_, in lat. ° ' n. [osaka in lat. ' ' n.] they alleged that they were allowed to trade, and to build a new ship, with liberty to dispose of themselves afterwards as they pleased. from this account, it was not doubted that this was the admiral of verhagen's fleet;[ ] and dismissing the japanese vessel, they passed the line a third time, and proceeded for bantam, in no little fear and danger, for want of an experienced pilot and good charts. [footnote : this was the ship in which william adams sailed as pilot, as related on a former occasion, being the hope, commanded by james mahu, one of five ships from rotterdam. we have already had occasion to meet with two of these in the straits of magellan.--e.] the th they took a junk belonging to jor or johor, in which they procured an experienced and skilful pilot, who came in good time to save them from shipwreck, which they had otherwise most probably suffered in these dangerous seas, so thick set with shoals and islands on every side, with which they were entirely unacquainted; and besides, they were now reduced to one anchor, and one solitary cable almost worn out. the th they came to jortan in the island of java, where they had news of several dutch ships being at bantam. the city of jortan consists of about houses built of timber, and its king commands over a considerable portion of that end of the island, and had lately conquered _balambuan_, a small island s.e. from jortan. the people in these parts are said to be mahometans; yet, as pagods are still in use, they seem to retain some mixture of the old indian superstitions, or at least some remnant of paganism is tolerated among the common people. their chief priest at this time was an old man, said to be an hundred and twenty years of age, who had a large household of wives, who fed the old man with their milk. sailing past jortan, they saw a large portuguese ship of tons, sticking fast among the shoals. she was bound for amboina, on purpose to have engrossed all the trade of that place; at least such was the report of the portuguese; but van noort strongly suspected she had been sent out to cruize for the purpose of intercepting him. he was, therefore, the less concerned for her misfortune, and the less careful in assisting her crew, originally of between six and seven hundred men, many of whom were still on board, and in great danger of perishing. the th of february, they passed the straits between _balambuan_ and _bally_, leaving java on the n.e.[ ] on the th, finding themselves in lat ° s. they directed their course for the cape of good hope. on the th, having the sun vertical at noon, their latitude was ° ' s. and here a calm began which lasted eleven days. the th march they were in lat. ° ' s. and in ° ' s. on the th. [footnote : this is an obvious error, as the straits of bally are at the _east_ end of java, which they must consequently have left on the n.w. of their course.--e.] the th of april, having been considerably retarded by cross winds and calms, they were under the necessity to lessen their allowance of water. at night of the th they observed light, as of a fire, on land, about four miles to the n.w. although they reckoned themselves miles from the cape, and were not aware of having approached any other land. the th, being calm weather, they were enabled to mend their sails, and at night another fire was observed; and in the morning of the th they saw land. the d may they saw land between the east and north, about six miles off, resembling the end of an island, by which they reckoned themselves near the cape, and now shaped their course for the island of st helena, where they arrived on the th. they here refreshed themselves with fish and some flesh, and laid in a supply of wood and water; but found goats and fowls hard to be got, and could not procure any oranges. leaving st helena on the th may, they crossed the line for the fourth time on the th of june; and on the th met a fleet of six dutch ships, under admiral heemskirk, bound for india. these had fought with thirteen spanish ships near the island of sal, and had lost their pinnace and vice-admiral; the former having been taken by the spaniards, and the latter having parted company. the th july they were in lat. ° n. when they fell in with considerable quantities of the sea-weed called _saragossa_. by the th they were in lat. ° ' n. after which they had a calm of fifteen days, the sea being all covered with weeds. the d they had to go upon short allowance of bread, and that too much worm eaten. august st, being in lat. ° n. they passed the island of flores, forty-five miles to the westward, by their estimation. they met three ships belonging to embden on the th, from whom they procured bread and flesh, in exchange for rice and pepper; and from whom they learnt that they were so near england, that they might expect to see the lizard next day. about noon of the th august, , they arrived in safety before the city of rotterdam, where they were received with the utmost joy, on their return from so long and perilous a voyage, which had occupied three years, bating eighteen days. section ii. _voyage of sebald de weert, to the south sea and straits of magellan, in _.[ ] "though not a circumnavigation, it seems necessary to give an account of this voyage of sebald de weert, by way of supplement to that of oliver de noort; because de weert was fitted out with the intention of sailing by the straits of magellan to india, and because it is difficult to find so good a description of these famous straits as he has given. de weert was one of the best seamen in holland, and lived to distinguish himself afterwards by many more successful enterprises; and i persuade myself the reader will be pleased to see the firmness of an able commander, struggling against a long series of misfortunes. this has always been esteemed one of the best written, and most curious of all the dutch voyages, and is therefore given at large."[ ]--_harris_. [footnote : harris, i. .] [footnote : so far harris; but on the present occasion several trivial and minute circumstances are omitted or abbreviated.--e.] § . _incidents of the voyage from holland to the straits of magellan_. the fleet fitted out for this expedition consisted of the hope of tons, with men, commanded by james mahu, admiral; the love or charity of tons, and men, commanded by simon de cordes, vice-admiral; the faith of tons, and men, of which gerard van beuningen was captain; the fidelity of tons, with men, captain jurian buckholt; and a yacht of tons and men, called the merry messenger, captain sebald de weert. these five ships were well provided with all manner of provisions, cannon, small arms, ammunition, money, merchandise, and stores necessary for a long voyage; and the pilot on whose knowledge and experience they chiefly depended, was an englishman named william adams,[ ] besides whom there were three other englishmen on board the admiral. [footnote : of the adventures of this person in japan, we have formerly had occasion to give an account in vol. viii. p. , of this collection, preceded by a brief abstract of the voyages of schald de weert.--e.] the fleet sailed from the road of goeree in the maese on the th june, ; but, owing to contrary winds, had to remain at anchor in the downs on the coast of england, till the th july. the wind being then fair, they set sail on that day, and on the th were on the coast of barbary. towards the end of august, they arrived in the harbour of st jago, one of the cape de verd islands, where they remained till the th september, although the climate was very unhealthy, and the pilots, particularly mr adams, remonstrated against continuing there; by which the officers were so much offended, that they resolved never more to call the pilots to council, which seems to have been the source of all their subsequent misfortunes, and of that restless spirit of mutiny and discontent, which possessed the seamen in this fleet. in the afternoon of the th september, they were off the desert island of brava, and the bottom being rocky, so that they could not anchor, they stood off and on all night, and coasting along next morning they found some fresh water, which was hard to be got, as the ships could not come to anchor, on account of a bad bottom. the boats, however, of captains beuniugen and buckholt, went ashore with empty casks, which they filled and brought on board, though then night and the ships under way. captain de ween went ashore in a small sandy bay, and looking about for fresh water, he saw some portuguese and negroes coming towards him, who told him the french and english ships used to get fresh water near that place, but remained always under sail. they said also, that no refreshments were to be had at this island, but these might be had in the island of fuego. after the departure of the islanders, de weert discovered four or five ruinous small huts, the door of one being walled up, which he found full of maize. on this discovery, he remained there with three men, lest the portuguese might carry off the maize in the night, and sent some others in the boat to give notice to the admiral of this discovery. fortunately a small vessel belonging to the bishop of st thomas, taken by the dutch at praya, arrived in the bay, to which de weert removed all the maize. he also took two female sea tortoises, in which were above eggs, of which they made many good meals. the portuguese and negroes, finding the dutch busied in carrying away their maize, came down the mountain, making a great noise; but de weert, having two fusils, fired at them and made them retire. on the return of de weert, he found the admiral very sick, and a council assembled in the hope. he in the first place advised them to remain no longer at the cape verd islands, and then resigned his command to the vice-admiral, de cordes. on advising with the other captains, and learning the quantity of water in each ship, de cordes gave orders that such as had most should give part to the others, and that the allowance of provisions and water should be diminished, and as fresh water was not to be expected for three or four months, they were directed to gather rain-water when that could be had. the greatest part of the men in the admiral's ship being sick, two or three of them were removed into each of the other ships, in exchange for sound men. the fleet sailed from brava on the th september, and on the d a signal was made from the admiral for the other captains. they found the admiral, james mahu, beyond hope of recovery; and that night he and his supercargo, daniel restan, both died. he was of a mild and gentle disposition, honest, careful, diligent, and very kind to the seamen, and was much lamented by the whole fleet. opening the letters of the directors of the expedition, which were directed to be opened in such a case, de cordes was appointed admiral, and benningen vice-admiral; sebald de weert being promoted to the command of the faith, and dirke gernitsz china to that of the yacht. these alterations did not please the seamen, who were attached to their former commanders. by the th october, the scurvy raged much among the seamen, especially in the hope, on which de cordes ordered a day of prayer to be observed in the fleet, to implore the mercy of god and a happy voyage. they were then in the lat. of ° ' s. at length the scurvy increased so much in the hope, that the admiral had not men enough to work his ship, and it was resolved to steer for some island where fresh provisions might be procured. they steered accordingly for annobon, where they hoped to get fresh meat and oranges. towards night, the admiral, who sailed in the van, fired a gun as a signal of seeing land, though all the pilots then thought the land at the distance of leagues. they accordingly approached the land, and anchored on the coast of _manicongo_, in lat. ° s.[ ] they here lost company of the small ship belonging to st thomas, in which were eleven sound men, and some thought she had deserted, while others thought she had run aground: but they afterwards found she had gone to cape lope gonzalves, where the men quitted her, going aboard the ship of baltazar musheron, which was bound to america. [footnote : the latitude in the text falls near point palmas, on the coast of yumba, in what is called the kingdom of congo. mayumba bay, perhaps the manicongo of the text, is in lat. ° ' s.] after several ineffectual attempts to procure refreshments for their men on the coast of africa and the island of annobon, they put to sea on the d january, , from that island, with the intention of sailing direct for the straits of magellan. the d they passed the shelves and rocks on the coast of brazil, called the _abrolhos_. the th march, one of the seamen in the vice-admiral's ship was hanged, for repeatedly breaking open the cupboard belonging to the cook, and stealing bread. about this time, the sick beginning to recover, got such good appetites that their allowance was not sufficient. the th, being near the rio plata, the sea appeared as red as blood, and some of the water being drawn up was found full of small red worms, that leaped out of it like fleas. § . _the fleet passes through the straits of magellan into the south sea, and is forced to return_. the th of april, the fleet got into the straits of magellan, and towards evening cast anchor under the smaller of the two penguin isles, fourteen leagues within the mouth of the straits. they here saw vast numbers of those birds called _plongeons_ or divers, because they dive into the water to catch fish. they killed there ten or fourteen of them with sticks, and might have killed as many as would have served the whole fleet, but would not lose the opportunity of a fair wind. the th they proceeded through the straits; and next day the admiral sent fifty men on shore, to look for inhabitants or cattle, but after travelling three leagues along shore, they found nothing. they arrived in a fine bay on the th, twenty-one leagues from the mouth of the straits, called _muscle bay_ by the english, because of the great quantities of muscles found there, and here they provided themselves abundantly with fresh water and wood. the th they sailed between two rocky shores, so close and so high that they hardly thought to have got through. the mountains on both sides were covered with snow. on the th, they cast anchor in a bay on the north side of the straits, in lat. ° s. called _great bay_, having good anchorage on fine sand. in this bay there are three small islands, the least of which is farthest east. in these parts, there grow great quantities of trees, resembling bay trees, but somewhat higher, the bark of which is very bitter, and has a hot taste like pepper.[ ] they here found abundance of muscles, some of which were a span long, and when boiled, the fish of three of them weighed a pound. the wind being contrary, they lay here at anchor till the d of august,[ ] without taking the sails from the yards, to be ready to sail on a change of wind. in the mean while they suffered much from cold, in so much that they lost above an hundred men, among whom was captain buckholt, who was succeeded by baltazar de cordes. storms were so frequent and violent during this time, that the ships could not ride quietly at anchor, and the seamen were forced to be continually at work to keep them right. they were also forced to go often on shore, in rain, snow, and hail, to get in fresh water, wood, muscles, and such other food as they could find, by which they were greatly fatigued. the scarcity of victuals was so great, and the climate so severe, that they were almost starved with hunger and cold, and their appetites so insatiable, that they devoured roots or any thing else they could find, raw and uncooked. most of the seamen had no watch-coats or other warm cloathing, to enable them to support the fatigue of watching and their daily labour, having made no provision of such things, as they believed themselves bound to warm climes. to remedy this evil, the general ordered cloth to be distributed among them. [footnote : in harris these are erroneously called _pimento_, but they must have been the _wintera aromatica_. the pimento, or _myrtus pimenta_, is a native of the warm regions of america and the west india islands, producing pimento, all-spice, or jamaica pepper.--e.] [footnote : this date, here anticipated, refers to the day when they afterwards set sail.--e.] it was found that many of the seamen, when at their meals, were in use to sell their victuals to others at high prices, and afterwards satisfied their hunger with raw muscles and green herbs, which occasioned them to fall into dropsies and other lingering sickness, of which several died: for this reason, the captains and other officers were ordered to be present at all their meals, to see and oblige them to eat their allowances. the th may the vice-admiral was sent, with two boats, to an island opposite great bay, to catch sea-dogs.[ ] he found there seven small boats or canoes, with savages on board, who were of a reddish colour with long hair, and, as well as he could observe, seemed _ten or eleven feet high_. on seeing the dutch boats, the savages went on shore and threw many stones at the dutch, so that they did not venture to land. the savages then took courage, and came towards them in their canoes; and coming within musket-shot, the vice-admiral made his men give them a general discharge, by which four or five of the savages were slain, and the rest so frightened that they escaped again on shore. they then pulled up some trees, which appeared afar off to be a span thick; but the vice-admiral chose to let them alone, and returned to the ships. the th of may, as some seamen were on shore, looking for muscles, roots, and herbs, and were dispersed, expecting no danger, a number of savages fell upon them suddenly, killed three of them, whom they tore in pieces, and wounded two, who were rescued by the admiral. all these savages were naked, except one, who had the skin of a sea-dog or seal about his shoulders. they were armed with wooden javelins, which they threw with great strength and dexterity. the points of these javelins were like cramp-irons, tied to the shafts with the guts of sea-dogs, and would run so deep into the flesh, that it was almost impossible to get them out. [footnote : seals are probably here meant.--e.] while the fleet lay in this bay, the admiral ordered his long-boat to be put upon the stocks, to be enlarged and altered into a pinnace, which was named the postillion, and the command of her was given to the second pilot of the hope. having no provisions for making broth, captain de weert landed on the th july, in order to catch seals; and while he was ashore, so great a storm arose that he was obliged to remain two days and two nights, before he could get back to his ship, and caught nothing. after enduring great hardships in this _green bay_,[ ] and which the dutch named the bay of de cordes, they set sail on the d of august, having the wind at n.e. but next day the weather became so calm, that they were obliged to put into a great bay on the south side of the straits. here, to perpetuate the memory of so dangerous and extraordinary a voyage into these straits, to which no nation had hitherto sent so many or such large ships, the general instituted a new order of knighthood, of which he made his six principal officers knights. they bound themselves by oath, never to do or consent to any thing contrary to their honour or reputation, whatever might be the dangers or extremities to which they were exposed, even death itself; nor to do or suffer to be done any thing prejudicial to the interests of their country, or of the voyage in which they were now engaged. they also solemnly promised, freely to expose their lives against all the enemies of their nation, and to use their utmost endeavours to conquer those dominions whence the king of spain procured so much gold and silver, by which he was enabled to carry on the war against their country. this ceremony was performed ashore on the eastern coast of the straits, in as orderly a manner as the place and occasion would permit, and the order was named of _the lion set free_, in allusion to the belgic lion, the cognizance of their country, which they professed to use all their endeavours to free from the spanish yoke. after this ceremony, a tablet was erected on the top of a high pillar, on which the names of the new-made knights were inscribed, and the bay was named the _bay of knights_. [footnote : this seems the same formerly named great bay.--e.] leaving this bay on the th of august, they put into another bay a league farther on, where they were again becalmed. the admiral at this time gave orders to captain de weert to go back in his boat to the bay of knights, to remove the tablet to a more convenient situation. when about to double the point of the bay on this errand, de weert saw eighty savages sitting on the shore, having eight or nine canoes beside them; and, as soon as the savages saw the boat, they set up a dismal noise, inviting the dutch to land, by means of signs. but, having only a small number of men, de weert turned back towards the ships; on which the savages ran across the woods along shore, always hallowing, and making signs for the dutch to land. when the general was informed of this adventure, he dispatched three boats well armed on shore, but the savages were not to be seen, though they had left their marks behind them, having dug up the interred body of a dutchman, and left his body on the ground, barbarously disfigured. on going to the knights tablet, the dutch also found it had been broken by the savages. early in the night of the d september, they got out from the straits of magellan into the south sea, with a fair wind, and continued their voyage to the w.n.w. with the wind at n.e. till the th, having all that time fine weather. this day, however, the sea began to swell and rise so high, that the vice-admiral had to lie to and hoist his boat on board, which was likewise done by the fidelity. while de weert was sailing directly in the wake of the admiral, who led the fleet, an accident happened on board the yacht, which had the wind of the fidelity, which obliged both the faith and the fidelity, the former being de weert's ship, to furl their sails, and lie to for assisting the yacht. the admiral continued his course, thinking that the other ships continued to follow him, and that the fog prevented them from being seen by the watch. the vice-admiral also was obliged to furl his sails shortly after, the fog being so thick as to prevent them from seeing each other, though very near. on the th the two yachts lost sight of the ships, but these three kept company all that day; and next day the whole fleet rejoined to their great joy. after joining, derick geritz sent the postillion to the admiral, to request the assistance of his carpenters; but they were sick, and those from the faith and fidelity went on board the yacht. this proved afterwards a serious loss to these ships, as they never got their carpenters back. the wind shifted all of a sudden, and the sea became so rough and stormy that the yacht had to furl her sails, as was done by the vice-admiral, who was ahead of the faith, and by the fidelity. in the ensuing night the yacht and vice-admiral made sail again, without advertising the other two ships by signal, so that they continued to lie to. when day broke next morning, captains baltazar de cordes and sebalt de weert, of the fidelity and faith, were extremely troubled at not seeing any of the other ships. de weert, who was now the senior captain, was also much troubled by the unprovided state of his ship, having no master, only two old pilots, and a very small number of seamen, mostly sick and weak through the cold and damp weather, though they kept a fire burning night and day. the n.e. wind became so violent on the th september, that the two ships were every moment in danger of sinking. the gallery of the faith was rent open above an inch, and the sea broke so violently over the fidelity, that her men were almost constantly up to their knees in water. she likewise sprung a leak, owing to which they were forced to keep her pumps constantly going day and night, yet could hardly keep her afloat. at last, after much search, the leak was found and stopt. in this deplorable situation these two ships remained for twenty-four hours, _spooning_ under bare poles. the seamen also became much dissatisfied, though allowed two ounces of dried fish a day to each man, with a reasonable quantity of biscuit. but they were much discontented with this scanty allowance, having been used in the straits to fill themselves with muscles, of which they could not now brook the want, so that the captains had much ado to pacify them. in the night of the th september they fell in with the land to the north of the straits by mistake, thinking themselves to have been twenty leagues from the land; and in the morning the faith was in great danger, as the wind drifted her towards the coast, on which were two rocks, which they avoided with the utmost difficulty. the fidelity, which was a considerable way in front, had discovered the rocks in time, and had easily given them a wide birth. they were only three leagues from the straits when they fell in with the land; and as the westerly wind now blew so hard that they were unable to bear up against it, the two captains now resolved to regain the straits, and to wait there in some safe road or bay for a fair wind, when they did not doubt of rejoining the other ships, as it had been agreed to wait at the island of st. mary on the coast of chili for two months, in case of separation. about evening, therefore, of the th september, they arrived at the southern point of the straits' mouth, and were drifted by the current six or seven leagues within the straits, where they anchored in a very good road. § . _incidents during their second residence in the straits of magellan_. from the th to the th of september they had tolerably good weather, but the wind then began to blow so furiously from the s.w. that they were forced to drop three anchors a-piece to keep them from being driven on shore. as the summer of these antarctic regions was now approaching, they were in hopes of fair weather; yet during two months that they remained in the straits, they scarcely had a fair day in which to dry their sails. for twenty days that they remained in this bay, to which they gave the name of the _bay of trouble_, they endured incredible hardships, being forced to go on shore daily in search of a few birds, which, with muscles and snails found upon the rocks, formed their sorry subsistence. being unable to subsist any longer in that bay, they set sail on the th october, and found a better bay about a league farther within the straits. the d they were nearly destroyed by a violent storm, but the weather became calm next day. the constant employment of the seamen was to go on shore in search of muscles for their sustenance at low water, and when the tide was in to fetch wood and fresh water, so that they had no time to dry themselves, though they kept up a good fire continually. in short, during the whole nine months spent in these straits, now and formerly, they scarcely had an opportunity once to dry their sails, so frequent were the returns of rain and storms. the men also were exposed to wet, cold, and high winds, which kept them continually uncomfortable, and always at work. the seamen now began to murmur, alleging there would not be enough of biscuit for their return to holland, if they remained here any longer. having notice of this, de weert went into the bread-room, as if to examine their store; and, on coming out, he declared, with a cheerful countenance, there was enough of biscuit and other provisions for eight months, though in fact there was not more than sufficient for four. at length, on the d december, the wind changed to the n.e. and they immediately weighed anchor, but could not get out into the south sea, owing to whirlwinds rising from between the high hills and the bottom of the bay. the faith was driven at one time so near the shore that a person might have stepped ashore from her gallery, and had certainly been lost if the wind had not abated. next day, the storm being over, the two ships got out of close bay, as they called it, with the ebb, but they never afterwards anchored together, and that day they cast anchor at the distance of a league from each other. the th of december they had a more violent storm than ever, which lasted two days, and during which the waves rose sometimes higher than the masts. the storm abating on the th, de weert went in his boat, intending to go aboard the fidelity; but on doubling the point which lay between them, was overwhelmed with grief to see no ship, nor any signs of shipwreck, so that he thought she had foundered. going next day farther towards a gulf, he was rejoiced to see a mast behind a low point, where he found the fidelity, with which ship he had to leave his small boat to assist in fishing for her anchors and cables, which she had lost in the late storm. he then took his leave, returning to his own ship, little dreaming he had taken his last farewell of captain de cordes. the th, going ashore in the boat for victuals as usual, and having doubled a point, they saw three canoes with savages, who went immediately on shore, and scrambled up the mountains like monkeys. the dutch examined the canoes, in which were only a few young divers, some wooden grapnels, skins of beasts, and other things of no value. going on shore to see if the savages had left any thing, they found a woman and two children, who endeavoured to run away, but was taken and carried on board, shewing few signs of fear or concern. she was of a middle size and reddish colour, with a big belly, a fierce countenance, and her hair close cut as if shaven, whereas the men wear their hair long. she had a string of snail-shells about her neck by way of ornament, and a seal's skin on her shoulders, tied round her neck with a string of gut. the rest of her body was quite naked, and her breasts hung down like the udders of a cow. her mouth was very wide, her legs crooked, and her heels very long. this female savage would not eat any of their boiled or roasted meats, so they gave her one of the birds they had found in the canoes. having pluckt off the long feathers, she opened it with a muscle shell, cutting in the first place behind the right wing, and then above the stomach. after that, drawing out the guts, she laid the liver a short time on the fire, and eat it almost raw. she then cleaned the gizzard, which she eat quite raw, as she did the body of the bird. her children eat in the same manner, one being a girl of four years of age, and the other a boy, who, though only six months old, had most of his teeth, and could walk alone.[ ] the woman looked grave and serious at her meal, though the seamen laughed heartily at her strange figure, and unusual mode of feeding. she afterwards sat down on her heels like an ape; and she slept all gathered up in a heap, with her infant between her arms, having her breast in his mouth. after keeping her two days on board, de weert set her on shore, giving her a gown and cap, with necklace and bracelets of glass beads. he gave her also a small mirror, a knife, a nail, an awl, and a few other toys of small value, with which she seemed much pleased. he cloathed the boy also, and decorated him with glass beads of all colours; but carried the girl to holland, where she died. the mother seemed much concerned at parting with her daughter, yet went into the boat without resistance or noise. she was carried to the shore, a league west from the ship, to a place which she pointed out, where the seamen found a fire and some utensils, which made the seamen believe that the savages had run away on seeing the boat. [footnote : they had no means to ascertain his age, and must have concluded him only six months old from his small size; but from his teeth and walking alone, he was more likely to have been two years old, and his diminutive size was probably occasioned by the miseries of the climate, and wretchedness of every kind to which these outcasts of nature are subjected.--e.] when the boat returned, a new storm arose, during which the waves often overtopped the masts, and tossed the ship so violently that they momentarily expected she would have been overset or split in pieces; but, by the blessing of god, she got out of this bay, to which they gave the name of _unfortunate bay_. next day they cast anchor towards evening in the channel of the straits, but finding the anchor had no buoy attached, and the weather being too violent to allow of supplying one, they had again to weigh, and put before the wind, and at length got into the bay of cordes, fourteen or fifteen leagues farther eastwards, near the middle of the straits. in this passage they kept as near as possible to the south side of the channel, that they might be seen by the fidelity, and even fired a gun off the mouth of a bay in which they supposed she lay, as a signal, to which they imagined that they heard another gun in answer from their consort, and continued their course in the full belief of being followed by the fidelity. in this passage the strength of the wind drove them so fast, that they had to fasten their boat astern with two strong hawsers to preserve her, and to diminish the velocity of their course; but the heavy rolling waves broke both hawsers, and they lost their boat, by which they were reduced to great difficulty, having now no means of getting on shore in search of provisions. next day, being the th december, they saw a boat making towards them from the westwards, which occasioned various conjectures; but at length turned out to belong to the fleet of van noort. this unexpected meeting gave great joy to the seamen, and the men in this boat were received with much respect by de weert. they were all in perfect health and vigour; and, among other things respecting their voyage, told of having caught above birds at the great penguin island. this intelligence made the sailors in the faith extremely anxious to get there, and several of them were bold enough to tell captain de weert, that it was necessary they should go there, where they might as well wait for a fair wind as in any other place, and besides, that it was only a league out of their way. but de weert declared he would on no account part company from van noort. this general came in person next day to visit de weert; and the day following, being the th december, the whole fleet joined him. the wind changing to s.w. on the d, they all set sail; and after proceeding two or three hours, de weert requested the loan of a boat from general van noort, with three or four men, that he might go before to direct captain de cordes to get ready to sail with the fleet; but he could not find the fidelity. the faith was now grown very foul, and unable consequently to keep up with the fleet; for which reason, being off the bay of knights, where she met the ebb current, she was forced to go in there. the d she was again opposed by adverse currents in a narrow channel, and unable to follow the other ships. the th they tried again, but were unable to get round a point, behind which the fleet of van noort lay at anchor; and finding it impossible to double that point with the present wind, de weert resolved to wait till it changed, that he might not fatigue his men by persisting in vain attempts. but, although the wind was contrary, van noort proceeded farther on, in search of a more secure anchorage, by which de weert lost sight of the fleet, though not far off, in consequence of an intervening high point of land. despairing of being able to rejoin the fleet of van noort, and finding it impossible to subsist his men without a boat, de weert ordered the pieces of one which were in the hold to be taken out, that they might be put together. this was on the th december; but having the wind at north next day, he attempted to get next day into a small bay, a league farther on than the bay of knights, in which the boat might be more conveniently built: but the violence of the wind forced him back into the bay of cordes, five leagues farther to the east. here, on the th and th, they endured so great a storm, that the seamen began to murmur again, as having been a whole fortnight without procuring any muscles, having nothing to subsist upon in all that time but a scanty allowance of biscuit and oil. seeing their insolence, de weert called them into the cabin, giving them good words, and even desired their advice as to what was best to be done in this difficult conjuncture. some were of opinion, that they should proceed to rio de la plata in the boat, abandoning their ship, and give themselves up to the spaniards. others were for going to st helena in quest of provisions. the pilot, john outgetz, was for going to guinea or the gold coast of africa, where he was known, having made five voyages there. none of these opinions pleased de weert, who told them, that he could not come to any determination without the consent of captain de cordes. in the mean time, the boat being now ready, de weert went ashore in her on the st january, , to get her properly caulked. in the afternoon, having doubled the southerly point, two boats were seen, which belonged to van noort, who had put back to the bay of knights in search of the faith. next day, van noort returned back, promising to make search for the fidelity. de weert also sent his boat, with his ensign and one of his pilots, on the same search, and gave them a letter for van noort, requesting a supply of biscuit sufficient for two months. the boat came back on the th with the general's answer, saying, that he was not sure of having enough of biscuit for his own men, neither knew he how long he might be at sea, and therefore could not spare any. this answer afflicted de weert; and having now no hopes of being again rejoined by de cordes, he resolved to proceed for penguin island, to lay in a large store of these birds, and then to follow the fleet of van noort, if the wind proved fair. before sailing, he wrote a letter for de cordes, which he left buried at the foot of a tree, and nailed a board to the tree, on which was painted, _look at the bottom of this tree_. on the th january, , de weert made sail for penguin islands, and next day came to anchor under the smaller of these islands, where he immediately landed with thirty-eight men in tolerable health, leaving the pilots and other seamen on board. leaving three men to keep the boat, the rest fell to killing birds, of which there were a prodigious quantity in the island. in the mean time the wind grew nigh and the sea very stormy, by which the boat was thrown so high upon the rocks, and so filled with water, that the boat-keepers were unable to get her off, or to heave out the water, and so much tossed by the surges that they expected every minute to have her stove to pieces. in this extremity the seamen were almost in despair. without the boat it was impossible for them to return on board. they had no carpenters, no tools, and no wood, with which to repair their boat, as there was no wood whatever on the island. they were all wet, as they had waded into the water as high as their shoulders to draw the boat from the rocks, and they were starving with cold. fortunately, at low water, the boat being aground, they recovered an axe and some tools, with a few nails, which revived their hopes of being able to get back to the ship. but as it was impossible to get the boat drawn ashore before night for repairs, they were obliged to pass the night on shore in the open air, where they made a fire of some broken planks from the boat, and eat some birds half-roasted, without bread, and with so little water that they could not quench their thirst. as soon as day appeared on the th, every one went cheerfully to work, in repairing that side of the boat which was most injured, which was quite refitted before night. next day the other side was repaired; and having loaded her with penguins, they went aboard on the evening of the th, having been three days on shore. while they were catching penguins on the th, they found a savage woman, who had hid herself in one of the holes. at the time when van noort landed here, there was a band of savages on the island, by whom two of his men were slain; in revenge of which van noort had destroyed them all but this woman, who was then wounded, and who now shewed her wounds to the seamen. she was tall and well-made; her hair cut quite close to her head, and her face painted, having a kind of cloak on her body, made of the skins of beasts and birds, neatly sewed together, and reaching down to her knees, besides which she had a skin apron; so that the savages on the north side of these straits appear to be more modest in their apparel than those on the south side. by the dead body of one of these savages, who had been slain by van noort, it appeared that the men wore their hair very long; besides which his head was ornamented with fine feathers, and he had others round his body. they use bows and arrows, the arrows being very neatly pointed with hard flints. de weert gave this woman a knife, who informed him by signs, that he would find a greater plenty of birds in the larger island. they left her where she was, though she requested, by signs, to be transported to the continent. they now went to the larger island, in order to get a larger supply of birds. the old penguins weigh from twelve to sixteen pounds, and the young ones from eight to twelve. they are black on the back, with white bellies, and some have a white ring round their necks, so that they are almost half white half black. their skin is much like that of a seal, and as thick as the skin of a wild boar. the bill is as long as that of a raven, but not so crooked; the neck short and thick, and the body as long as that of a goose, but not so thick. instead of wings, they have only two fins or pinions, covered with feathers, which hang down as they walk upright, and by means of which they swim with great strength. they have black feet, like those of a goose, and they walk upright, with their fins or pinions hanging down like the arms of a man, so that when seen at a distance they look like so many pigmies. they seldom come ashore except in the breeding season, and then they nestle together, three or four in one hole, which they dig in the downs as deep as those of rabbits, and the ground is so full of them, that one is liable almost at every step to sink into them up to the knees. they feed entirely on fish, yet their flesh has not that rank fishy taste which is so common in sea-fowl, but is extraordinarily well tasted. _penguin_, the name of this bird, is not derived from the latin _pinguedo_, fatness, as the dutch author of this voyage would have it, and therefore spells the word _pinguin_. neither is the conjecture of the french editor of this voyage better founded, who supposes they were so called by the english from a welsh word signifying _white-head_; and from which it has been argued that these savages are descended from a colony of britons, supposed to have settled in america, about the year , under madoc, prince of north wales. the truth is, the name of penguin was given to these birds by the savages. the ship reached the greater penguin island on the th january, that island being a league from the small one; and here they found such abundance of these birds, that many ships might have been amply supplied by them instead of one, for they procured above of them in less than two hours. next day, while busy in salting the penguins, a heavy storm came on from the n.w. by which the ship was driven out of sight of the island, and to so great a distance that de weert lost hopes of getting back to it again; on which he reduced the men to an allowance of four ounces of biscuit daily. they got back however on the th; but, when going to land, a fresh storm came on with such violence, that they resolved to weigh anchor and get out of the straits: but the sea was so rough that they durst not attempt this, lest the capstan should fly round. at last the anchor lost its hold; and to save the ship from being cast away, they had to cut the cable and make sail, being in great sorrow for the loss of their anchor, as they now had one only remaining. § . _voyage from the straits to holland_. this sad accident constrained de weert to quit the straits, which he did on the st january, having a s.w. wind, chopping sometimes round to e.n.e. having now spent nine months in those seas, in a dangerous and dismal condition. in the afternoon of that day, having got into the main sea, they allowed their boat to go adrift, being rendered quite unserviceable by the late storms. the th in the morning, they found three small islands to windward, not marked in any maps, which they named the _sebaldine islands_. these are in lat. ° ' s. sixty leagues from the continent,[ ] and contained abundance of penguins; but they could not catch any, having no boat. on the st february, a seaman was condemned to be hanged, for having stolen a bottle of wine and a bag of rice from the hold; and, when just about to be turned off, he was pardoned at the intercession of the crew, on condition that they should not again beg the life of any one found guilty of stealing provisions. in the evening of the d the same person was found drunk, and consequently must have again stolen wine, and was convicted of having stolen both wine and victuals, for which he was now hanged, and his body thrown into the sea. [footnote : in vol. viii. p. , note , these sebaldines have been already noticed as the north-westermost of the falklands.--e.] they passed the line on the th march; and their wine being now reduced to one pipe, that was reserved for the use of the sick, and no more was allowed to the crew. the th they saw cape monte on the coast of guinea, when the captain was much displeased with the pilots, for having steered a different course from what he had directed. the seamen also were discontented with the captain, who would not land, because he had no boat, and only one anchor: but, being satisfied that he had biscuit enough for four months, at a quarter of a pound daily to each man, and two ounces of rice, he made the ship's head be turned to seawards. in the night of the st april, they discovered some fire at a distance, thinking it were a ship; but when day broke, it was known to have been on the shore, towards which they had been insensibly driven by the current. by this time their whole stock of penguins was expended, and they must have been reduced to a very small allowance of biscuit and rice for their whole sustenance, but during five weeks that they steered along the coast of africa, making very little progress in consequence of calms, they caught abundance of many kinds of fish, both large and small. being uncertain how long they might remain on the coast, and fearing the want of provisions, de weert ordered a small boat to be built by the pilot, who had been bred a ship-carpenter. this boat was finished in twelve days; but they had no need of her, for the wind became fair on the th april, and they made sail in the direction of the açores. the d may was held as a day of thanksgiving and prayer; and on the st they passed the tropic of cancer, catching every where such abundance of fish, that, besides supplying their immediate wants, they salted and dried a considerable store. on getting near the açores, they found no more fish, and had to use those they had dried and salted; and by this food many distempers were produced among them, particularly the scurvy. the men became as it were parched within, and so thirsty that they could not be satisfied with drink; and their bodies were covered all over with red spots, like a leprosy. the th, the captain was informed that some of the men had stolen biscuit; but he durst not punish the guilty, as they were the only vigorous and healthy men in the ship, and nothing could be done without them. the ship got into the english channel on the th july, when the captain landed at dover to purchase an anchor and cable; but not being able to procure any, he sailed again that night. on the th, while off the mouth of the maese, waiting the tide, and having a pilot on board, the wind came suddenly contrary, and forced him into the channel of goeree, where a seaman died, being the sixty-ninth who died during the voyage. the thirty-six who remained alive gave thanks to god, who had preserved them through so many dangers, and had vouchsafed to bring them home. chapter v. voyage of george spilbergen round the world, in -- .[ ] section i. _narrative of the voyage, from holland to the south sea_. as the directors of the dutch east-india company were still anxious to make trial of the route to india by the straits of magellan, they appointed george spilberg, or spilbergen, to make this attempt in , as admiral of six ships, the great sun, the full moon, the huntsman, and a yacht called the sea-mew, all belonging to amsterdam, with the eolus of zealand, and the morning-star belonging to rotterdam. spilbergen was a person of established reputation for knowledge and experience, and was allowed to chuse most of his officers. the ships were all equipped in the best possible manner, and were ready a little after midsummer; but as the admiral was of opinion that they would arrive in the straits of magellan at an improper season, if they sailed so early, the directors thought proper to postpone the commencement of the voyage till the month of august. [footnote : harris, i. . callender, ii. .] the fleet sailed accordingly from the texel on the th of august, , with a strong gale at s.e. without any remarkable accident, except several severe storms, they reached the latitude of madeira on the d october. proceeding thence by the canaries, they lost sight of these islands on the th, and came in view of brava and fogo, two of the cape de verd islands, on the d. having happily passed the _abrolhos_, dangerous shoals running far out to sea, on the th december, they discovered the coast of brazil on the th of that month. on the th they were off the bay of rio de janeiro; and on the morning of the th they anchored in the road of _ilas grandes_, between two large fine islands covered with trees, in thirteen fathoms water. next day they anchored at another island, about half a league distant, where they caught good store of fish, besides many crocodiles or alligators, each about the length of a man. they anchored behind another island on the d, where they found two small huts, and a heap of human bones on a rock. here they set up tents on shore for their sick, which were all landed that night, under the protection of three distinct guards of soldiers, lest they might be attacked by the portuguese, who were at no great distance. the th, the boats were sent for wood and fresh water to a river about two leagues from where the ships lay, and about noon next day brought off as much as they could carry. they went back for a farther supply, and were obliged to remain on shore all night, as their boats got aground with the ebb-tide. on getting to the ships on the th, they reported, that they had heard a confused sound of voices, as of many people, in the woods. the th, three boats were sent again to the watering-place, with nine or ten soldiers to protect the seamen when on shore. shortly after, being out of sight of the fleet, several cannon-shot were heard from the huntsman, which had been stationed to command the watering-place, on which the admiral sent three armed boats to see what was the matter. on coming to the huntsman, they were told that five canoes, full of well-armed portuguese and mestees, had attacked the three boats, and slain all their men. the dutch armed boats pursued the canoes, of which they soon came in sight; but on following them round a point, saw two stout frigates or armed barks riding at anchor, to which the canoes retired for protection, and the boats had to return to the admiral with the dismal news of the fate of their companions. a conspiracy was discovered on the st january, , of certain persons who proposed to have run away with one of the ships, and for which two men were executed, several others being put in irons, and distributed among the other ships of the fleet. before leaving this place, orders were given, if any ship lost company of the rest, that her commander was to set up a conspicuous mark in the haven of de cordes, or some other usual landing place in the straits; and, after waiting a certain fixed time, was to proceed for the isle of mocha on the coast of chili, as the place of rendezvous. having no fit provisions for the sick, they resolved also to remove from the islas grandes to the isle of st vincent. here they were delayed by the portuguese, who appear to have captured some of their men; for, having taken a bark with eighteen portuguese on the th january, the portuguese of st vincent refused to give a smaller number of hollanders in exchange for these, though also offered many fair manuscripts, pictures, plate, and other things belonging to the jesuits, which had been taken in the prize. they departed from st vincent in the beginning of february, having first burnt their prize and some buildings on shore, and furnished themselves amply with oranges and pomecitrons. in lat. ° ' s. they were distressed by a severe storm on the th march, which continued several days, and separated the ships. on the st a mutiny broke out, for which several of the most notoriously guilty were capitally punished. they entered the straits on the th, but were forced out again, by adverse winds and currents. they entered again on the d of april, and saw a man of gigantic stature climbing a high hill on the southern shore of the straits, called _terra del fuego_, or the land of fire. they went ashore on the th, when they saw two ostriches, and found a large river of fresh water, beside which grew many shrubs producing sweet black-berries. being in lat. ° s. the mountains were all covered with snow, yet they found pleasant woods, in which were many parrots. to one inlet or bay they gave the name of _pepper haven_, because the bark of a tree found there had a biting taste like pepper. on the th of april they had some friendly intercourse with a party of savages, to whom they gave various trifling articles in exchange for pearls. but on the st may, some of the people were surprised by the natives while on shore, and two of them slain. on the th of may they got into the south sea, not without terror, having no anchorage that day, and being in much danger from many shoals and islands at the mouth of the straits, between the northern and sourthern shore. section ii. _transactions in the south sea, along the western coast of america_. they were welcomed into the great south sea by a terrible storm, and were fearful of being cast away on certain islands a little without the straits, which, from their likeness to the islands of scilly, they named the _sorlings_. on the st they had sight of the coast of chili and the isle of mocha. this island is low and broad on the north, and is full of rocks on the south. the th endeavours were made to enter into traffic with the natives of this island. the chief and his son dined on board the admiral, seemingly rejoiced to see such large and well-armed ships sent against the spaniards, and all the native chilese were delighted to see the soldiers mustered and exercised. the dutch here procured great plenty of sheep, in exchange for hatchets and ornaments of coral and such like toys, getting two sheep for one hatchet. but the natives brought every thing to the boats, and would not suffer any of the dutch to go near their houses, being very jealous of their wives, even more so than spaniards. these sheep resembled camels, having long legs and necks, hare lips, hunches on their backs, and are used as beasts of draught and burden. they left mocha on the th of may, and next day came to the coast not far from the island of st mary, where the land was much broken and very rocky. the th they cast anchor at the island of st mary, whence a spaniard came on board, having a pledge left for him ashore. this man invited the admiral and others to dine on shore; but one of the boats observed a body of soldiers marching to the place at which they were to have dined; on which appearance of treachery, the spanish messenger was made prisoner. the dutch landed next day in force, on which the spaniards set their church on fire and fled; having four of their men slain, while two of the dutch were wounded. they here found much poultry, and took sheep, with other spoil. learning at this place of three spanish ships fitted out in april expressly against them, the admiral of which carried forty brass guns, and the whole manned by spaniards, spilbergen resolved to go in search of them at conception and valparaiso, and afterwards on the coast of arica. a farther squadron, of similar force, was also said to be in preparation at _calao de lima_. in consequence of this intelligence, the dutch gunners were ordered to have every thing in readiness for battle, rules of military discipline were established, and each ship and every person received distinct orders for conducting the expected battle, in which it was resolved to conquer or die. sailing from the island of st mary on the st june, , they passed not far from the town of _aurora_,[ ] where the spaniards kept a garrison of men, which were continually disquieted by the unconquered natives of chili. on the d they came to the island of _quinquirina_, within which is the town of conception, inhabited by many indians and about spaniards. the th they entered the safe and commodious road of valparaiso, in which was a spanish ship, but which was set on fire by its own mariners, who escaped on shore. the th at noon, they were in lat. ° ' s.[ ] and in the afternoon came into the fair and secure harbour of quintero. here they took in wood and water, and caught abundance of fish. but they found the inhabitants every where aware of them, and prepared to receive them, so that nothing of any importance could be effected. they came next to _arica_ in lat. ° ' s.[ ] to which place the silver is brought from the mines of potosi, whence it is shipped for panama. finding no ships there, they proceeded along the coast, and took a small ship on the th, in which was some treasure, but it was mostly embezzled by the sailors. [footnote : arauco, a fortress on the northern frontier of the independent country of araucania, but somewhat inland, not far to the n.e. of the island of st mary.--e.] [footnote : quintero is in lat. ° ' s.] [footnote : this is a great error, as arica is in lat ° ' s.] they soon after had sight of eight ships, which the master of the prize said were the royal fleet sent out in search of the hollanders, contrary to the opinion of the council of peru; but dou rodrigo de mendoza, the spanish admiral, a kinsman to the viceroy, insisted on putting to sea, alleging that two even of his ships could take all england, and much more those _hens_ of holland, who must be spent and wasted by so long a voyage, and would assuredly yield at first sight. on this, the viceroy gave him leave to depart, with orders to bring all the hollanders in chains. mendoza then swore that he would never return till the hollanders were all taken or slain, and set sail from calao, the haven of lima, on the th july. the flag ship was the jesu maria, of twenty-four brass guns and men, which was said to have cost the king , ducats. the vice-admiral was the santa anna, of men, commanded by captain alvarez de piger, who had before taken an english ship in the south sea, and this ship cost , ducats, being the handsomest that had ever been seen in peru. the other ships were the carmelite and st jago of eight brass cannon and men each; the rosary of four guns and men; the st francis having seventy musketeers, and twenty sailors, but no ordnance; the st andrew of eighty musketeers, twenty-five sailors, and no cannon; and an eighth, the name and strength of which is not mentioned. the adverse fleets drew near on the evening of the th july, when the spanish vice-admiral sent a message to his admiral, advising to postpone battle till next morning. mendoza was, however, too impatient to follow this advice, and set upon the great sun, in which was admiral spilbergen, about ten that night, when they exchanged broadsides. the st francis being next to the jesu maria, attacked the dutch admiral; but being beaten off, fell upon the yacht, and by her was sent to the bottom. at this instant, the yacht was attacked by the spanish admiral, and had soon shared the fate of her former antagonist, but was succoured by two boats full of men, one from the dutch admiral, and the other from the vice-admiral; on this occasion, the dutch admiral's boat was unfortunately mistaken by the huntsman, and sent to the bottom by a cannon-shot, and all her men drowned except one. next morning, five of the spanish ships sent word to their admiral that they meant to do their best to escape: but the dutch admiral and vice-admiral set upon the spanish admiral and vice-admiral, and an obstinate engagement ensued, in which the eolus, another of the dutch ships, also partook. the two spanish ships were lashed together, for mutual support. at length, all the men forsook the vice-admiral, going on board the admiral's ship, in which they afterwards confessed they found only fifty men alive. being reduced to great distress, the spanish seamen several times hung out a white flag, in token of surrender, which was as often hauled down by the officers and other gentlemen, who chose rather to die than yield. after some time, being sore pressed by the hollanders, the men belonging to the spanish vice-admiral returned to their own ship, and renewed the fight; on which occasion the dutch vice-admiral was in imminent danger of being taken, as the spaniards boarded her, but were all repelled or slain. being no longer able to continue the fight, the spanish admiral fled under cover of the night, and escaped the pursuit of spilbergen; but her leaks were so many and great that she went to the bottom, as did likewise another of the spanish ships called the santa maria.[ ] the dutch vice-admiral and the eolus bestirred themselves so briskly, that the spanish vice-admiral hung out a white flag, on which the dutch vice-admiral sent two boats to bring the spanish commander on board, but he refused going that night, unless the dutch vice-admiral came to fetch him, or sent a captain to remain in pledge for him. at this time ten or twelve of the men belonging to the eolus remained on board, contrary to orders, wishing to have a first hand in the plunder. these men assisted the spaniards in their efforts to prevent the ship from sinking: but all their labour being in vain, they shewed many lights, and cried out aloud for help, which was too late of being sent, and they went to the bottom. next morning the dutch sent out four boats, which found thirty spaniards floating on pieces of the wreck, and crying out for mercy; which was shewn by the dutch to some of the chiefs, but the rest were left to the mercy of the sea, several of them being even knocked on the head by the dutch, contrary to orders from their officers. before this ship went down her commander expired of his wounds. in this engagement forty dutchmen were wounded and sixteen slain, on board the admiral, vice-admiral, and eolus; and in the rest eighteen were wounded and four slain. [footnote : there is no such name in the list of the spanish fleet, so that we may suppose this to have been the one formerly mentioned without a name.--e.] the dutch now made sail for calao de lima, but were becalmed. the th they passed by the island [st lorenzo], and saw fourteen ships in the haven, but could not get near for shoals. they went, therefore, to the road of calao in search of the spanish admiral, but learned afterwards at payta that his ship had sunk. the spaniards fired upon them from the shore, and a ball of thirty-six pounds weight had nearly sunk the huntsman. they saw also on shore a considerable army, commanded by the viceroy in person, consisting of eight troops of horse and foot. going beyond reach of shot from the shore, the dutch cast anchor off the mouth of the haven, where they remained till the th of july, expecting to capture some spanish ships, but all that appeared made their escape by superior sailing, except one bark laden with salt and eighty jars of molasses. in regard that they were now on an enemy's coast, where they had no opportunity of repairing their losses, orders were issued by spilbergen to act with great caution, in case of falling in with the fleet of panama, and especially to take care not to separate from each other, which had much endangered them in the late fight. it was also ordered, if any spanish ship should yield, that the dutch captains and chief officers should on no account leave their own ships, but should order the enemy to come aboard them in their own boats. they sailed from calao on the th of july, and came to the road of _huarmey_ in lat. ° s. on the th. this is a pleasant place, with a large port, near which is a lake. the dutch landed here, but the inhabitants fled, leaving little plunder, except poultry, hogs, oranges, and meal, which they brought on board. they dismissed some of their spanish prisoners on the d august, on which day they passed between the main and the island of _lobos_, so called from being frequented by seals, or sea wolves.[ ] the th they cast anchor near payta, in about the latitude of ° s. the th they landed men, but re-embarked after some skirmishing, as they found the city too strongly defended. on this occasion they took a peruvian bark, strangely rigged, having six stout natives on board, who had been out fishing for two months, and had a cargo of excellent dried fish, which was distributed through the fleet. [footnote : there are three islands or groups of that name off the coast of peru. the southern lobos is in lat. ° s. near fifty miles from the nearest land; the middle, or inner lobos, in lat. ° ' s. is only about nine miles from the coast of peru; and the northern lobos is in lat. ° ' s. almost close to the shore. it is probably the middle or inner lobos that is meant in the text.--e.] the th of august three of the dutch ships battered the town of payta, and afterwards sent a party of armed men on shore, who found the inhabitants had fled to the mountains with all their valuables. the dutch sent five of the peruvian captives on shore to endeavour to procure fruit, and to learn with more certainty what had become of the spanish admiral. on their return they brought word that the spanish admiral had gone to the bottom, six only of her crew escaping. they brought letters also from the lady of don gasper calderon, the commandant of payta, who had fled to the town of st michael, thirty miles from payta; who, in commiseration of the captives, sent many citrons and other provisions to the dutch ships. towards the sea the town of payta is strongly fortified, and almost impregnable. it is a place of some importance, having two churches, a monastery, and many good buildings; and has an excellent harbour, to which many ships resort from panama, whence their cargoes are transmitted by land to lima, to avoid the dangers of the wind and the seas at that place. while at the island of lobos, the dutch took two birds of enormous size, not unlike an eagle in beak, wings, and talons; their necks being covered with down resembling wool, and their heads having combs like those of a cock. they were two ells in height, and their wings, when displayed, measured three ells in breadth.[ ] [footnote : probably the condour, or vultur gryphus of naturalists, which is of vast size, sometimes measuring sixteen feet between the tips of the wings when extended. at this place we have omitted a vague rambling account of the kingdoms of peru and chili, as in , which could have conveyed no useful information, farther than that don juan de mendoza, marquis des montes claros, was then viceroy of peru.--e.] the dutch set sail from payta on the st of august, and anchored on the d in the road off the mouth of the rio tumbez, in lat. ° ' s. they here agreed to return to the isle of coques, in lat. ° s.[ ] that they might endeavour to procure refreshments. but they were so distressed by storms of wind, with rain and excessive thunder, that they in vain endeavoured to get to that island till the th september, and in the mean time became very sickly. proceeding therefore towards the north they came in sight of new spain on the th september, in lat. ° ' n. when the weather became again very tempestuous. after much bad weather they came in sight of a pleasant land on the st october, but were unable to land. beating off and on till the th of that month, they then entered the harbour of accapulco, within shot of the castle, and hung out a flag of truce. two spaniards came on board, with whom they agreed to exchange their prisoners for sheep, fruits, and other provisions, which was accordingly performed. on the th melchior hernando, nephew to the viceroy of new spain, came on board, to take a view of the fleet which had vanquished that of his king, and was kindly entertained by the dutch admiral. the castle of accapulco was found to be well fortified, and had seventy pieces of brass cannon mounted on its ramparts; and the dutch were here informed that their intended arrival had been known eight months before. [footnote : this is probably the northern lobos, in lat ° ' s. formerly mentioned in a note.--e.] they set sail from accapulco on the th of october, and soon afterwards took a bark bound for the pearl fishery, which they manned and took into their service as a tender. on the st november they anchored before the port of _selagua_, in lat. ° ' n. at this place they were informed of a river abounding in a variety of excellent fish, and having extensive meadows on its banks well stocked with cattle, together with citrons and other fruits in great plenty, all of which they much wanted; but the company they sent to endeavour to procure these conveniences returned empty handed, after a smart engagement with the spaniards. they sailed thence on the th november for the port of nativity, in lat. ° ' n. where they furnished themselves with necessaries, and from whence they set sail on the th. section iii. _voyage home from america, by the east indies and cape of good hope_. the th november, , being in lat. ° ' n. they determined on shaping their course for the ladrones across the great pacific ocean. on the d december, to their great astonishment, they saw two islands at a great distance, and next day a vast rock in lat. ° n. fifty leagues from the continent of america.[ ] the th they saw another new island, having five hills, that at first appeared like so many distinct islands. the new year was ushered in with distempers that proved fatal to many of the sailors. on the d of january they came in sight of the ladrones, where they landed and procured refreshments. setting sail from thence on the th january, they arrived at the philippine islands on the th february, but the indians refused to trade with them, because enemies of the spaniards, though some among them, for that very reason, would willingly have transferred all the trade and riches of the country to them. in _capul_, where they arrived on the th, the people gave them fat hogs and poultry in exchange for mere trifles. having thus procured abundant refreshments, they set sail on the th, passing through the straits towards the bay of manilla. [footnote : the three marias are nearly in the indicated latitude, but are only about thirty leagues from the western coast of n. america.--e.] they anchored in these straits on the th, where they saw a curious fabric erected on the top of trees, looking at a distance like a palace, but they could not imagine what it was. the th they passed the high and flaming hill of _albaca_, and came in sight of the other end of the straits [of st bernardino] on the th, when they anchored before the island, of _mirabelles_, remarkable for two rocks which tower to a vast height in the air. behind this island is the city of manilla, and here the pilots wait for the ships from china, to pilot them safe to the city, as the passage is very dangerous. on the th of march they took several barks, which were going to collect the tribute paid by the adjacent places to the city of manilla. they had now intelligence of a fleet of twelve ships and four gallies, manned by spaniards besides indians, chinese, and japanese, sent from manilla to drive the dutch from the moluccas, and to reduce these islands under the dominion of spain. on this news they discharged all their prisoners, and resolved to go in pursuit of the manilla fleet. the th march they got into a labyrinth of islands, whence they knew not how to get out, but their spanish pilot carried them safe through next day. the th they anchored all night before the island of _paney_, by reason of the shoals; and on the th they sailed close past the island of mindanao. the th they came again close to the shore, and brought provisions from the islanders at a cheap rate. they reached cape _cudera_ on the th, where the spaniards usually water on their voyages to the moluccas. till the d, having a perfect calm, they made no progress except with the tide; and when between _mindanao_ and _tagano_ they were stopt by an adverse current. the people here professed great enmity against the spaniards, and offered to assist the dutch with fifty of their vessels against that nation. the th they passed the island of _sanguin_, and came on the th to ternate, in which island the dutch possessed the town of _macia_, where they were made most welcome by their countrymen. they observed that the straits of _booton_ was full of shoals, without which the water was deep. on the east there is good fresh water, and two leagues to the west lies a very rocky shoal. on the th of april, cornelius de vicaneze went for banda, where the soldiers were landed, after being long on board ship. being detained in the moluccas and at bantam in the service of the dutch east india company till the th december, , admiral spilbergen then sailed from bantam for holland, in the amsterdam of tons, having also under his command the zealand of tons, leaving the ships with which he had hitherto sailed in india. on the st january, , the zealand parted company, and on the th of that month the amsterdam anchored at the island of mauritius. they doubled the cape of good hope on the th march, and arrived at st helena on th of that month, where they found the zealand. leaving that island on the th april, they passed the line on the th of that month, and arrived safe in holland on the st july, , having been absent two years, ten months, and twenty-four days; nearly nine months of which time were spent in india, without prosecuting the direct purpose of their circumnavigation. the directors of the dutch east india company bestowed the highest commendations on spilbergen for his prudence and good conduct in this voyage, which contributed both to the advantage of the company, his own reputation, and the glory of his country. the dutch company may be said to have dated their grandeur from the day of his return, both in respect to reputation, power, and riches; the former resulting from his successful circumnavigation of the globe, and the others from their conquests in the moluccas, in which he not only assisted, but likewise brought home the first intelligence. on his return to holland, spilbergen confirmed the report of magellan respecting a gigantic people inhabiting the straits, named _patagons_. he said that he had gone several times on shore, and had examined several graves of the natives, and saw several savages at different times in their canoes, all of whom were of the ordinary size; or rather under. but one day he observed a man on shore, who first climbed one hill and then another, to look at the ships, and at last came to the sea-side for that purpose, and this man was allowed by all who saw him to be even taller than those spoken of by magellan. this is likewise confirmed by the accounts given to van noort and de weert, by a boy they took from the savages; who said there were only two tribes of these giants, all the other savages being of the ordinary size.[ ] [footnote : without pretending to give any opinion on this subject, it may be remarked, that the account from the savage boy is worthy of little credit, as a kind of nursery tale, and given by one who certainly could hardly have sufficient language to express himself. the solitary giant seen looking at the ships from a distance, may have been of the ordinary size, magnified to the eye in looking through a hazy atmosphere.--e.] chapter vi. voyage round the world, in - , by william cornelison schouten and jacques le maire, going round cape horn.[ ] introduction. the states general of the united provinces having granted an exclusive privilege to the dutch east india company, prohibiting all their subjects, except that company, from trading to the eastwards beyond the cape of good hope, or westwards through the straits of magellan, in any of the countries within these limits, whether known or unknown, and under very heavy penalties; this prohibition gave great dissatisfaction to many rich merchants, who were desirous of fitting out ships and making discoveries at their own cost, and thought it hard that their government should thus, contrary to the laws of nature, shut up those passages which providence had left free. among the number of these discontented merchants was one isaac le maire, a rich merchant of amsterdam, then residing at egmont, who was well acquainted with business, and had an earnest desire to employ a portion of the wealth he had acquired in trade in acquiring fame as a discoverer. with this view he applied to william cornelison schouten of horn, a man in easy circumstances, deservedly famous for his great skill in maritime affairs, and his extensive knowledge of trade in the indies, having been thrice there in the different characters of supercargo, pilot, and master. [footnote : harris, i. . callender, ii. . it is proper to remark, that in this and several of the subsequent circumnavigations, considerable freedom has been taken in abbreviating numerous trivial circumstances already noticed by former voyagers: but whereever the navigators treat on new topics of discovery, or other subjects of any importance, the narratives are given at full length. had not this liberty of lopping redundancies been taken, this division of our collection must have extended to a very inconvenient length, without any corresponding advantage.--e.] the main question proposed to him by le maire was, whether he thought it possible to find a passage into the south sea, otherwise than by the straits of magellan; and if so, whether it were not likely that the countries to the south of that passage might afford as rich commodities as either the east or the west indies? schouten was of opinion that such a passage might be found, and gave several reasons as to the probable riches of these countries.[ ] after many conferences, they came to the determination of attempting this discovery, under a persuasion that the states did not intend, by their exclusive charter to the east india company, to preclude their subjects from discovering countries in the south by a new route, different from either of those described in the charter. [footnote : the idea of rich countries is here surely wrong stated, as none such could possibly be conceived to the south of the straits of magellan. the expected rich countries must have been to the westwards of these straits, and in the tropical regions far to the north, in the hope of not trenching upon the exclusive trade to the east indies.--e.] in consequence of this determination, it was agreed that le maire should advance half of the necessary funds for the expence of the proposed voyage, while schouten and his friends were to advance the other moiety. accordingly le maire advanced his part of the funds; and schouten, with the assistance of peter clementson, burgomaster of horn, jan janson molenwert, one of the schepens or aldermen of that city, jan clementson keis, a senator of that city, and cornelius segetson, a merchant, produced the rest. these matters being adjusted, in spring , the company proposed to equip two vessels, a larger and a less, to sail from horn at the proper season. that all parties might be satisfied, it was agreed that william cornelison schouten, in consideration of his age and experience, should command the larger ship, with the entire direction of the navigation during the voyage; and that jaques le maire, the eldest son of isaac, should be supercargo. every thing was got ready in two months for the prosecution of the enterprise, and a sufficient number of men engaged as mariners: but, as secrecy was indispensable, they were articled to go wherever the masters and supercargoes should require; and, in consideration of such unusual conditions, their wages were considerably advanced beyond the ordinary terms. section i. _journal of the voyage from the texel to cape horn_. the larger of the two vessels prepared for this voyage was the unity, of tons, carrying nineteen cannon and twelve swivels; having on board two pinnaces, one for sailing and another for rowing, a launch for landing men, and a small boat, with all other necessaries for so long a voyage. of this vessel william cornelison schouten was master and pilot, and jaques le maire supercargo. the lesser vessel was named the horn, of tons, carrying eight cannons and four swivels, of which jan cornelison schouten was master, and aris clawson supercargo. the crew of the unity consisted of sixty-five men, and that of the horn of twenty-two only. the unity sailed on the th of may for the texel, where the horn also arrived on the d june. the proper season being now arrived, in their judgment, they sailed from the texel on the th of june, and anchored in the downs on the th, when william schouten went ashore at dover to hire an experienced english gunner. this being effected, they again set sail the same evening; and meeting a severe storm in the night between the st and d, they took shelter under the isle of wight. sailing thence on the th, they arrived at plymouth on the th, where they hired a carpenter named muydenblick. sailing finally from plymouth on the th june, with the wind at n.e. and fair weather, they proceeded on their voyage. distinct rules were now established in regard to the allowance of provisions at sea, so that the men might have no reason to complain, and the officers might be satisfied of having enough for the voyage. the rate fixed upon was, a cann of beer for each man daily; four pounds of biscuit, with half a pound of butter and half a pound of suet weekly; and five large dutch cheeses for each man, to serve during the whole voyage. all this was besides the ordinary allowance of salt meat and stock-fish. due orders were likewise issued for regulating the conduct of the men and officers. particularly on all occasions of landing men in a warlike posture, one of the masters was always to command: and in such ports as they might touch at for trade, the supercargo was to go on shore, and to have the exclusive management of all commercial dealings. it was also enjoined, that every officer should be exceedingly strict in the execution of his duty, but without subjecting the men to any unnecessary hardships, or interfering with each other in their several departments. the officers were also warned against holding any conversation with the men, in regard to the objects of the voyage, all conjectures respecting which were declared fruitless, the secret being solely known to the first captain and supercargo. it was also declared, that every embezzlement of stores, merchandises, or provisions, should be severely punished; and, in case of being reduced upon short allowance, any such offence was to be punished with death. the two supercargoes were appointed to keep distinct journals of all proceedings, for the information of the company of adventurers, that it might appear how far every man had done his duty, and in what manner the purposes of the voyage had been answered. on the th july they had sight of madeira, and on the th they passed through between teneriff and grand canary, with a stiff breeze at n.n.e. and a swift current. the th they passed the tropic of cancer; and the th in the morning fell in with the north side of cape de verd. procuring here a supply of water, by leave of the moorish alcaide or governor, for which they had to pay _eight states_ of iron, they left the cape on the st august, and came in sight of the high land of sierra leona on the st of that month, as also of the island of _madre bomba_, which lies off the south point of sierra leona, and north from the shallows of the island of st ann. this land of sierra leona is the highest of all that lie between cape verd and the coast of guinea, and is therefore easily known. on the th of august, they cast anchor in eight fathoms water on a fine sandy bottom, near the shore, and opposite a village or town of the negroes, in the road of sierra leona. this village consisted only of eight or nine poor thatched huts. the moorish inhabitants were willing to come on board to trade, only demanding a pledge to be left on shore for their security, because a french ship had recently carried off two of the natives perfidiously. aris clawson, the junior merchant or supercargo, went accordingly on shore, where he drove a small trade for lemons and bananas, in exchange for glass beads. in the mean time some of the natives came off to the ships, bringing with them an interpreter who spoke many languages. they here very conveniently furnished themselves with fresh water, which poured down in great abundance from a very high hill, so that they had only to place their casks under the waterfall. there were here whole woods of lemon-trees, and lemons were so cheap that they might have had a thousand for a few beads, and ten thousand for a few common knives; so that they easily procured as many as they wished, and each man had for sea store. the d september they found a vast shoal of fish, resembling a shoemaker's knife. they left sierra leona on the th september; and on the th october, being in lat ° ' s. they were astonished by receiving a violent stroke on the bottom of one of the ships, though no rock appeared to be in the way. while forming conjectures on the occasion of this shock, the sea all about the ship began to change colour, appearing as if some great fountain of blood had opened into it. this sudden alteration of the water seemed not less wonderful than the striking of the ship; but the cause of both was not discovered till after their arrival in port desire, when the ship was laid on shore to clean her bottom, when they found a large horn, of a substance resembling ivory, sticking fast in the bottom. it was entirely firm and solid, without any internal cavity, and had pierced through three very stout planks, grazing one of the ribs of the ship, and stuck at least a foot deep in the wood, leaving about as much on the outside, up to the place where it broke off.[ ] [footnote : this must have been a narvai, or narwhal, the monodon monoceros, licorne, or unicornu marinum, of naturalists, called likewise the unicorn fish, or sea unicorn.--e.] on the th of october, when no person knew whereabouts they were except schouten, the company was informed that the design of the voyage was to endeavour to discover a new southern passage into the south sea; and the people appeared well pleased, expecting to discover some new golden country to make amends for all their trouble and danger. the th they were in lat. ° ' s. and continued their course mostly to the south all the rest of that month, till they were in lat ° ' s. the st september they had the sun at noon to the north; and in the afternoon of the d they had sight of the isle of ascension, in ° s. otherwise called the island of martin vaz, where the compass was observed to vary ° to the east of north. the st, in lat. ° s. the compass varied ° in the same eastern direction. the th december, they got sight of the mainland of south america, appearing rather flat, and of a white colour, and quickly after fell in with the north head-land of port desire, anchoring that night in ten fathoms water with the ebb-tide, within a league and a half of the shore. next day, resuming their course southwards, they came into port desire at noon, in lat. ° ' s. they had very deep water at the entrance, where they did not observe any of the cliffs which were described by van noort, as left by him to the northward on sailing into this haven, all the cliffs they saw being on the south side of the entrance, which therefore might be those mentioned by van noort, and misplaced in his narrative by mistake. in consequence of this error, they overpassed port desire to the south, so as to miss the right channel, and came into a crooked channel, where they had four and a half fathoms water at full sea, and only fourteen feet at low water. by this means the unity got fast aground by the stern, and had infallibly been lost, if a brisk gale had blown from the n.e. but as the wind blew west from the land, she got off again without damage. here they found vast quantities of eggs upon the cliffs; and the bay afforded them great abundance of muscles, and smelts sixteen inches long, for which reason they called it _smelt bay_. from this place they sent a pinnace to the penguin islands, which brought back of these birds, and two sea lions. leaving smelt bay on the th december, they made sail for port desire, a boat going before to sound the depth of the channel, which was twelve and thirteen fathoms, so that they sailed in boldly, having a fair wind at n.e. after going in little more than a league, the wind began to veer about, and they cast anchor in twenty fathoms; but the ground, consisting entirely of slippery stones, and the wind now blowing strong at n.w. they drifted to the south shore, where both ships had nearly been wrecked. the unity lay with her side to the cliffs, yet still kept afloat, and gradually slid down towards the deep water as the tide fell. but the horn stuck fast aground, so that at last her keel was above a fathom out of the water, and a man might have walked under it at low water. for some time, the n.w. wind blowing hard on one side, kept her from falling over; but, that dying away, she at length fell over on her bends, when she was given over for lost; but next flood, coming on with calm weather, righted her again. having escaped this imminent danger, both ships went farther up the river on the th, and came to king's island, which they found full of black sea-mews, and almost entirely covered with their eggs; so that a man without moving from one spot might reach fifty or sixty nests with his hands, having three or four eggs in each. they here accordingly were amply provided with eggs, and laid in several thousands of them for sea store. the th the boats were sent down the river in search of fresh water, on the south side, but found it all brackish and unpleasant. they saw ostriches here, and a sort of beasts like harts, having wonderfully long necks, and extremely wild. upon the high hills, they found great heaps of stones, under which some monstrous carcass had been buried, some of the bones being ten or eleven feet long, which, if having belonged to rational creatures, must have been the bones of giants.[ ] they here had plenty of good fish and fowls, but no water could be found for some days. [footnote : giants indeed; for thigh bones of ten or eleven feet long, and these are the longest in the human body, would argue men of _thirty-one feet high_!--e.] on the th december, the unity was laid ashore on king's island, in order to clean her bottom, and next day the horn was hauled on shore for the same purpose, but providentially at the distance of about yards from her consort: for, on the th, while burning a fire of dry reeds under the horn, which was necessary for the object in view, the flame caught hold of the ship, and they were forced to see her burn without being able to do any thing to extinguish the fire, as they were at least fifty feet from the water side. they launched the unity at high water on the th, and next day carried on board all the iron-work, anchors, cannon, and whatever else they had been able to save belonging to the horn. on the th some holes full of fresh water were found, which was white and muddy, yet well tasted, and of which a great quantity was carried on board, in small casks on the men's shoulders. at this place, they found great numbers of sea lions, the young of which are good to eat. this creature is nearly as big as a small horse, their heads resembling lions, and the males having long manes on their necks of tough coarse hair; but the females have no manes, and are only half as large as the males. they are a bold and fierce animal, and only to be destroyed by musket shot. january th, , they departed from port desire: and on the th, being in lat. ° s they saw the sebaldine [or faulkland] islands, as laid down by de weert. the th, being in lat. ° s. and by estimation twenty leagues to the south of the straits of magellan, they observed a strong current running to the s.w. the d the wind was uncertain, and shifting, and the water had a white appearance, as if they had been within the land; and holding on their course, s. by w. they saw land that same day, bearing from them w. and w.s.w. and quickly afterwards saw other land to the south. then attempting, by an e.s.e. course, to get beyond the land, they were constrained to take in their topsails, by the wind blowing hard at north. in the forenoon of the th they saw land to starboard, at the distance of a league, stretching out to the east and south, having very high hills all covered with snow. they then saw other land bearing east from the former, which likewise was high and rugged. according to estimation, these two lands lay about eight leagues asunder, and they guessed there might be a good passage between them, because of a brisk current which ran to the southward in the direction of that opening. at noon they made their latitude ° ',[ ] and stood towards the before-mentioned opening, but were delayed by a calm. at this place they saw a prodigious multitude of penguins, and such numbers of whales that they had to proceed with much caution, being afraid they might injure their ship by running against them. [footnote : they were here obviously approaching the straits of le maire, discovered on the present occasion, the northern opening of which is in lat. ° ' s. the southern in ° s. and the longitude ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] in the forenoon of the th they got close in with the eastern land, and upon its north side, which stretched e.s.e. as far as the eye could carry. this they named _states land_, and to that which lay westward of the opening they gave the name of _maurice land_.[ ] the land on both sides seemed entirely bare of trees and shrubs, but had abundance of good roads and sandy bays, with great store of fish, porpoises, penguins and other birds. having a north wind at their entrance into this passage, they directed their course s.s.w. and going at a brisk rate, they were at noon in lat. ° ' s. and then held a s.w. course with a brisk gale. the land on the south side of the passage or straits of _le maire_, and west side, to which they gave the name of _maurice land_, [being the east side of the terra del fuego] appeared to run w.s.w. and s.w. as far as they could see, and was all a very rugged, uneven, and rocky coast. in the evening, having the wind at s.w. they steered s. meeting with prodigious large waves, rolling along before the wind; and, from the depth of the water to leeward, which appeared by very evident signs, they were fully convinced that they had the great south sea open before them, into which they had now almost made their way by a new passage of their own discovering. [footnote : the former of these names is still retained, but not the latter; the land on the west of the straits of le maire being terra del fuego; and the cape at the n.w. of the straits mouths is now called cape st vincent, while the s.w. point is named cape st diego.--e.] at this place the _sea-mews_ were larger than swans, their wings when extended measuring six feet from tip to tip. these often alighted on the ship, and were so tame as to allow themselves to be taken by hand, without even attempting to escape. the th at noon they made their latitude ° s. where they were assailed by a brisk storm at w.s.w. the sea running very high, and of a blue colour. they still held their course to the southwards, but changed at night to the n.w. in which direction they saw very high land. at noon of the th they were in ° ' s. the weather being very cold, with hail and rain, and the wind at w. and w. by s. the th they had great billows rolling from the west, and were at noon in ° ' s. the th having the wind at n.e. they steered s.w. and came in sight of two islands w.s.w. of their course, beset all round with cliffs. they got to these islands at noon, giving the name of _barnevelt's islands_, and found their latitude to be ° s.[ ] "being unable to sail _above_ them, they held their course to the north; and taking a n.w. course in the evening from barnevelt's islands, they saw land n.w. and n.n.w. from them, being the lofty mountainous land covered with snow, which lies to the south of the straits of magellan, [called terra del fuego,] and which ends in a sharp point, to which they gave the name of _cape horn_, which is in lat. ° ' s."[ ] [footnote : only °, so that by some inaccuracy of instruments or calculation, the observations of the latitude, in this voyage, seem all considerably too high.--e.] [footnote : the course in the text within inverted commas, from barnevelt's islands to cape horn, is evidently erroneously stated. it ought to have run thus. "being unable to pass to the north of these islands, they held their course s.w. seeing land on the n.w. and n.n.w. of their course, which ended in a sharp point, which they named _cape horn_."--cape horn is in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] they now held their course westwards, being assisted by a strong current in that direction; yet had the wind from the north, and had heavy billows meeting them from the west. the th, the current and billows as before, they were fully assured of having the way open into the south sea, and this day at noon they made their latitude ° ' s. the st sailing west, with the wind at north, their latitude at noon was ° s. but the wind changing to w. and w.s.w. they passed cape horn, losing sight of land altogether, still meeting huge billows rolling from the west with a blue sea, which made them believe they were in the main south sea. february st, they had a storm at s.w. and sailed n.w. and w.n.w. the d, having the wind at w. they sailed southwards, and came into the lat. of ° ' s. the d they made their latitude ° ' s. with a strong wind at w. but saw no signs of any land to the south. section ii. _continuation of the voyage, from cape horn to the island of java._ altering their course to the northwards, they plainly discerned the western mouth of the straits of magellan, bearing east from them, on the th february; and being now quite sure of their new and happy discovery, they returned thanks to the almighty for their good fortune over a cup of wine, which was handed three times round the company. to this new-found passage or straits, leading from the atlantic into the pacific, they gave the name of the _straits of le maire_, though that honour ought justly to have been given to _schouten,_ by whose excellent conduct these straits were discovered. by the th of february they were in lat. ° s. with fair weather, continuing their course to the north; but on the th, they determined to sail for the island of juan fernandez, to give some rest and refreshment to their sickly and wearied company. that day their latitude at noon was ° ' s. in the evening they shortened sail, fearing to fall in with the land in the night. next day, being the st of march, they saw the islands of juan fernandez to the n.n.e. and got up to them at noon, being in the lat. of ° ' s.[ ] the smaller of these islands is that to the westwards, [masafuero,] which is very barren and rocky. the greater [juan fernandez,] to the eastwards, though also very high and mountainous, is yet fruitful and well shaded with trees. this island affords plenty of hogs and goats; and there is such excellent fishing all round, that the spaniards come hither for that purpose, and transport vast quantities of fish from hence to peru. [footnote : the latitude of juan fernandez is only ° ' s. the two islands mentioned in the text under this name, are juan fernandez and masafuero; the former in long. ° ', the latter in ° ', both w. from greenwich. or perhaps, the second island may be the small goat's or rabbit island, off its s.w. end, called _isola de cabras_, or _de conejos_.--e.] the road or haven of juan fernandez, [named la baia, or cumberland harbour,] is at the east end of the island; but they shaped their course to the west end, where they could find no place in which to anchor. the boat being sent in search of an anchorage, brought an account of a beautiful valley, full of trees and thickets, and refreshed by streams of water running down from the hills, with a variety of animals feeding in this pleasant spot. the boat brought also great store of fish on board, being mostly lobsters and crabs, and reported having seen many sea wolves. finding the island inaccessible, they took a considerable quantity of fish, and procured a supply of fresh water, after which they determined to pursue their voyage. the th march they passed the tropic of capricorn to the north, the wind in general being e.s.e. and they held their course n.n.w. till the th, when being in lat. ° s. they changed their course to w. the d april they were in ° ' s. being then much afflicted with the flux, and that day they saw a small low island which they got up to at noon. finding no bottom, they could not come to anchor, but sent some men ashore in the boat. they found nothing here fit for refreshment, except some herbs which tasted like scurvy grass, and saw some dogs which could neither bark nor snarl, and for which reason they named it dog island. it is in lat. ° ', and they judged it to be leagues west from the coast of peru.[ ] the interior of this island is so low, that it seemed mostly overflowed at high water, its outskirt being a sort of dike or mound, overgrown with trees, between which the salt water penetrates in several places. [footnote : dog island is in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° w. about marine leagues west from the coast of peru under the same parallel. by the description in the text it seems one of those which are usually termed _lagoon_ islands--e.] the th, sailing w. and w. by n. they saw a large low island in the afternoon, reaching a considerable way n.e. and s.w. at sun-set, being about a league from this island, a canoe came to meet them, in which were some naked indians of a reddish colour, having long black hair. they made signs to the dutch to go on shore, and spoke to them in a language which was not understood; neither did the indians understand them, though spoken to in spanish, moluccan, and javan. getting near the coast, no bottom could be found, though only a musket-shot from land. they now sailed s.s.w. along the island, making ten leagues during the night, and continued along the shore on the th, many naked people continually inviting them to land. at length a canoe came off, but the natives would not venture into the ship, yet came to the boat, where the dutch gave them beads, knives, and other trifles; but they found them thievishly disposed, much like the natives of the ladrones, and were so fond of iron, that they stole the nails from the cabin windows, and the bolts from the doors. their skins were all pictured over with snakes, dragons, and such like reptiles, and they were entirely naked, except a piece of mat before them. a boat was sent ashore well armed, and immediately on landing, about thirty of the natives rushed from a wood, armed with clubs, slings, and long staves or spears, and would have seized the boat and taken away the arms from the soldiers; but on receiving a discharge of musquetry they run off. not being able to anchor here, they called this the _island without ground_. it is low, and mostly composed of white sandy ground, on which are many trees, which were supposed to be cocoas and palmitos. it is not broad, but of considerable length, being in lat. ° s. and about leagues from dog island.[ ] [footnote : sondre-ground, or without-ground, is in lat. ° ' s. and ° ' w. long.--e.] finding nothing could be done here, they held on their course to the west, and on the th came to another island, about fifteen leagues north from the former. this seemed all drowned land, yet its skirts were well clothed with trees. here also they found no ground, and it yielded nothing but a few herbs, with some crabs and other shell-fish, which they found good eating. it afforded them also good fresh water, which they found in a pit not far from the shore. the pottage or soup, which they made of certain herbs gathered here, proved serviceable to those who were afflicted with the flux. they called this _water island_,[ ] because it supplied them with fresh water. [footnote : water-land is in lat. ° s. and ° w. long.--e.] sailing from this island westwards, they came on the th to another island leagues distant from the last, and extending a considerable way n.w. and s.e. dispatching the boat in search of anchorage, a bottom was found near a point of land, in and fathoms, about a musket-shot from the shore, where also was a gentle stream of fresh water. this news induced them to send back the boat with some casks for water: but after using much pains to get on shore, and searching in the wood to find a spring, they were frightened away by seeing a savage. on getting back to their boat, five or six more of the savages came to the shore, but on seeing the dutch put off they soon retired into the woods. although they thus got rid of the savages, they encountered other adversaries of a formidable nature; for they were followed from the woods by innumerable myriads of black flies, so that they came on board absolutely covered with them from head to foot, and the plague of flies began to rage in the ship in a most intolerable manner. this persecution lasted three or four days, on which account they called this _fly island_,[ ] and by the help of a good breeze of wind, they left it as fast as they could. [footnote : the next island w. or rather s.w. from water-land, and nearly at the distance in the text, is now called palliser's island.--e.] continuing their course westwards from the th of april to the th of may, when they were in lat. ° ' s. and estimated their distance from peru leagues to the west, they perceived a bark coming towards them, on which they fired a gun or two to make them strike. but those who were in her, either not understanding the language of cannon, or unwilling to obey, made off as fast as they could; on which the dutch sent their boat with ten musqueteers to intercept them. some of the savages in the bark leapt overboard, and the rest surrendered without resistance, on which the dutch used them kindly, dressing those that were wounded, and saving the lives of some who had leapt into the sea. besides the men, there were eight women and several children, being in all twenty-three, remaining in the bark. they were a cleanly neat kind of people, of a reddish colour, and entirely naked except the parts of shame. the men wore their long black curled hair, but that of the women was cut short. the bark was of a singular figure and construction, consisting of two canoes fastened together, in the midst of each of which were two planks of red wood to keep out the water, and several others went across from one canoe to the other, being made fast and close above, and projected over a good way on each side. at the end of one of the canoes, on the starboard side, there stood a mast, having a fork at its upper end, where the yard lay; the sail being of mats, and the ropes of that kind of stuff of which fig-frails are made in spain. their only furniture consisted of a few fishing-hooks, the upper part of which was of stone, and the other of bone, tortoise-shell, or mother-of-pearl. they had no water on board, instead of which they satisfied themselves with the liquor of a few cocoa-nuts; in default of which they drank sea-water, which even the children did heartily. the dutch sent them all again on board their vessel, where the women welcomed their husbands with joyful embraces, after which they made away to the south-east.[ ] [footnote : this double canoe seems to have belonged to the society islands, and was perhaps bound towards otaheite, by the course which it followed on getting rid of the dutch.--e.] the th of may, schouten continued his course w.s.w. and that day saw some very high land to larboard, s.e. by s. about eight leagues off. the th they came to a very high island, and about two leagues south from this to one much lower; and the same day sailed over a bank where they had fourteen fathoms on a stoney bottom, about two leagues from the land, and being past this bank could find no bottom. at this time another bark, or double canoe like the former, came up to them, having a small loose single canoe in her, to put out upon occasion. she sailed so fast that few dutch ships could have outstripped her. she was steered behind by two oars, one in each canoe, and when they have a mind to tack they use oars forwards. sending their boat to sound at one of these islands, ground was found a cannon-shot from the shore, in twelve, fourteen, and fifteen fathoms, but shelvy. the savages in the bark made signs as if directing them to the other island, but they anchored at the former in twenty-five fathoms on a sandy bottom, a cannon-shot from shore. this island, in lat. ° ' s. is one entire mountain, looking like one of the molucca islands, and all covered with cocoa-nut trees, for which reason they named it cocoa island.[ ] the other island is much lower than this, but longer, and stretches east and west. while at anchor off cocoa island there came three _ships_,[ ] and nine or ten canoes about them, having three or four men in each. some of these holding out white flags in token of peace, the dutch did so likewise. the canoes were flat before and sharp behind, hewed each out of one piece of a red kind of wood, and sailed very swiftly. on coming near the unity, some of the savages leapt into the sea and swam to the ship, having their hands full of cocoa-nuts and _ubes-roots,_[ ] which they bartered for nails and beads, giving four or five cocoa-nuts for a nail or a small string of beads, so that the dutch that day procured cocoa-nuts. this traffic brought so many of the natives on board, that the dutch could hardly stir about the ship. [footnote : cocas, or boscawen island, is in ° ' s. and long. ° ' w. the other island mentioned in the text, traitors, or keppel island, is a few leagues s.s.w. from cocos.--e.] [footnote : these ships must have been large double canoes.--e.] [footnote : these _ubes_-roots were perhaps the same that are called _eddoes_ by modern navigators among the south sea islands.--e.] the boat was now sent to the other island to see for a more convenient place in which to anchor; but she was presently beset by a vast number of canoes filled with a mad sort of people, armed with clubs, who boarded the boat and attacked the dutchmen. on firing their muskets, the savages laughed at them for making so much noise and doing so little hurt; but, on the next discharge, one of them being shot through the breast, they learnt to pay more respect to the muskets, and to keep their due distance for the future. the savages were lusty, well-proportioned men, and most expert swimmers, but naked and thievish, and very fantastical in the fashion of their hair, some having it short, others long, some curled, and others plaited or folded up in various forms. on the th the savages came again in their canoes, laden with cocoas, bananas, _ubes-roots_, hogs, and fresh water, contending violently who should get first on board. those who were behind, being unable to get over the throng of canoes and men before them, leapt into the sea, and diving under the canoes, swam to the ship with bunches of cocoas in their mouths, and climbed up the side like so many rats, and in such swarms that the dutch had to keep them off with cudgels. the dutch bartered with them that day for so many cocoas, as to produce twelve for each of their men, being eighty-five in number. the natives wondered much at the size and strength of the dutch ship; and some of them even dived under her bottom, knocking it with stones, as if to try how strong it was. the king of these savages sent a black hog on board as a present, charging the messenger to take no reward. shortly after he came in person, in a large ship of their fashion, attended by thirty-five single canoes; and when at a small distance from the ship, he and all his people began to bawl out as loud as they could, being their manner of welcoming strangers. the dutch received him with drums and trumpets, which pleased him much; and he and his attendants shewed their sense of this honourable reception by bowing and clapping their hands. the king gave them a present after his fashion, which they requited with an old hatchet, some rusty nails and glass beads, and a piece of linen, with all which he seemed much pleased. this king was not distinguished from his subjects by any external mark of dignity, but merely by the reverence they shewed him, as he was equally naked with all the rest; but he could not be prevailed on to come on board the unity. at noon on the th, the dutch ship was surrounded by twenty-three large double canoes, or ships of their fashion, and forty-five single canoes, in all of which there could not be less than seven or eight hundred men. at first they pretended to come for the purpose of trade, making signs of friendship, and endeavouring to prevail upon the dutch to remove their ship to the other island, where they would be better accommodated. yet, in spite of all these fair pretences, the dutch suspected that some mischief was intended by the savages, who now began to environ the ship all around, and then, with a great outcry, made a sudden attack. the king's ship was the foremost in the action, and rushed with such violence against the unity, that the heads of the two canoes composing it were both dashed to pieces. the rest came on as well as they could, throwing repeated showers of great stones on board; but the dutch, having been on their guard, so galled them with musquetry, and with three great guns loaded with musket-balls and nails, that all the savages were fain to quit their canoes, and seek for safety in the water. being thus put to the rout, they dispersed as quickly as possible. these treacherous savages were inhabitants of the lower, or more southerly, of the two islands, which therefore the dutch named _traitor's island_. schouten sailed from cocoa island that same day, holding a course to the w. and w. by s. and came on the th to another island, about thirty leagues from cocoa island, to which he gave the name of _hope island_,[ ] because expecting there to meet with refreshments. finding no ground for anchorage, the boat was sent to sound along shore, and found a stony bottom about a musket-shot from the shore, in some places having forty, and in others twenty and thirty fathoms, and then no bottom at all next throw of the lead. some ten or twelve canoes came off to the ship, bartering a small quantity of flying fishes for beads, the articles being reciprocally exchanged by means of a rope let down from the stern of the ship. from this peddling traffic the indians soon after withdrew, and endeavoured to board and carry away the boat which was employed in sounding; but met with such a reception from guns, pikes, and cutlasses, that after two of them were slain, they were glad to hurry away as fast as they could. this island was mostly composed of black cliffs, which were green on the top, and seemed well stocked with cocoa-trees. there were several houses seen along the sea side; and in one place was a large village close beside a strand, or landing-place. as there was no convenient anchorage at this place, the ground being extremely rough, schouten proceeded on his voyage to the s.w. meaning to pursue the originally intended discovery of a southern continent. [footnote : hope island is in lat. ° ' s. and in ° ' w. longitude.--e.] the th may, being in lat. ° ' s. and the west wind becoming very unsteady, they began to consult as to the farther prosecution of their voyage. schouten represented that they were now at least leagues westward from the coast of peru, without having made the expected discovery of a southern land, of which there was now no great probability of success, having already sailed much farther west than they at first intended. he said also, if they persisted in following their present course, they would assuredly come to the southern side of new guinea; and if they were unable to find a passage through that country, to the west or north, they would inevitably be lost, since it would be impossible for them to get back again, by reason of the east winds which continually reign in these seas. for these reasons, and others which he urged, he proposed, that they should now alter their course to the northwards, so as to fall in with the north side of new guinea.[ ] this proposal was embraced by all the company, and it was immediately determined to change the course to n.n.w. accordingly, holding their course in that new direction, they saw two islands at noon of the th, about eight leagues from them, n.e. by e. and seeming to be a cannon-shot distant from each other.[ ] upon this they steered n.e. with fair weather and a scanty wind, meaning to approach this island, but could only get within a league of it on the st, when they were visited by two canoes, the people in which began immediately to threaten them with loud cries, and at the same time seemed preparing to dart their _assagays_ or spears: but, on a discharge from the ship, they made off in haste, leaving two of their companions behind them who were slain, and a shirt they had stolen from the ship. next day other natives came to the ship on friendly and peaceable terms, bringing cocoa-nuts, ubes-roots, and roasted hogs, which they bartered for knives, beads, and nails. [footnote : it is almost needless to mention, that if schouten had continued his course in the former parallel of between ° and ° s. he must have fallen in with the group of islands now called the new hebrides, and afterward with the northern part of new south wales.--e.] [footnote : this was only one island, in lat. ° s. and long. ° ' w. which they named horn island.--e.] the natives of this island were all as expert swimmers and divers as those in traitor's island, and as well versed in cheating and stealing, which they never failed to do when an opportunity offered. their houses stood all along the shore, being thatched with leaves, and having each a kind of penthouse to shed off the rain. they were mostly ten or twelve feet high, and twenty-five feet in compass, their only furniture within being a bed of dry leaves, a fishing-rod or two, and a great club, even the house of their king being no better provided than the rest. at this island the dutch found good convenience for watering; and on the th they sent three of their principal people on shore as hostages, or pledges, of friendship with the islanders, retaining six of them aboard in the same capacity. the dutch pledges were treated on shore with great respect by the king, who presented them with four hogs; and gave strict orders that none of his people should give the smallest disturbance to the boat while watering. the natives stood in great awe of their king, and were very fearful of having any of their crimes made known to him. one of them having stolen a cutlass, and complaint being made to one of the king's officers, the thief was pursued and soundly drubbed, besides being forced to make restitution; on which occasion the officer signified, that it was well for the culprit that the king knew not of his crime, otherwise his life would certainly have been forfeited. these islanders were extremely frightened at the report of a gun, which would set them all running like so many madmen. yet on one occasion the king desired to hear one of the great guns let off, and being set for that purpose under a canopy, with all his courtiers about him, in great state, the gun was no sooner fired than he ran off into the woods as fast as possible, followed by his attendants, and no persuasions of the dutch could stop them. the th and th the dutch went ashore to endeavour to procure hogs, but were unable to get any, as the islanders had now only a few left, and would only part with cocoas, bananas, and ubes-roots; yet the king continued his wonted kindness and respect, and he and his lieutenant took the crowns from their own heads, and set them on the heads of two of the company. these crowns were composed of the white, red, and green feathers of parrots and doves. the doves of this island are white on the back, and black every where else except the breast; and each of the king's counsellors has one of these birds sitting beside him on a stick. the ship being completely supplied with fresh water on the th, schouten and le maire went ashore with the trumpets, with which music the king was highly gratified. he told them of his wars with the inhabitants of the other island, and shewed several caves and thickets where they were in use to place ambuscades. it plainly appeared that he was fearful of the dutch having some design of seizing his country, as he would fain have engaged them to go to war with the other island, and even offered to give them ten hogs and a good quantity of cocoas, if they would be gone from his island in two days. yet he made them a visit aboard, praying when he entered the ship, and praying also at every cabin he entered. he used always to pray likewise every time the dutch came ashore to visit him. his subjects also shewed great submission to the dutch, kissing their feet, and laying them on their own necks, with all the marks of awe and fear they could express. the th of may was a day of great ceremony, in consequence of the king of the _other island_[ ] coming to visit the king of this. this king was accompanied by a train of naked indians, having bunches of green herbs stuck about their waists, of which herb they make their drink. to make sure of a welcome, this king brought with him a present of sixteen hogs. when the two kings came in sight of each other, they began to bow and to mutter certain prayers; on meeting they both fell prostrate on the ground, and after several strange gestures, they got up and walked to two seats provided for them, where they uttered a few more prayers, bowing reverently to each other, and at length sat down under the same canopy. after this, by way of doing honour to the stranger king, a messenger was sent aboard, requesting to send the drums and trumpets ashore, which was done accordingly, and they played a march to the great entertainment of the two kings. after this a solemn banquet was prepared, for which they began to make ready their liquor, and in the following strange and abominable manner. a number of indians came into the presence of the two kings and their attendants, bringing a good quantity of _cana_, the herb of which they make their drink, each of whom took a large mouthful thereof, and having chewed it a while, put it from their mouths into a large wooden trough, and poured water on the chewed herb. after stirring it some time, they squeezed out all the liquor, which they presented in cups to the two kings.[ ] they also offered of it to the dutch, who were ready to vomit at the nastiness of its preparation. [footnote : no _other island_ is to be found in modern maps near horn island, the nearest being the feejee islands, a numerous group, about thirty leagues s.s.w. it is therefore probable that horn island may have consisted of two peninsulas, united by a low narrow neck, appearing to schouten as two distinct islands.--e.] [footnote : in the society islands, as related by modern navigators, an intoxicating liquor is prepared nearly in a similar manner, by chewing the _ava_, or pepper-root.--e.] the eating part of this entertainment consisted of ubes-roots roasted, and hogs nicely dressed in the following manner: having ripped open their bellies and taken out the entrails, they singed off the hair, and put hot stones into their bellies, by which, without farther cleaning or dressing, they were made fit for the royal feast.[ ] they presented two hogs dressed in this manner to the dutch, with all the form and ceremony used to their kings, laying them first on their heads, then kneeling with much humility, they left them at their feet. they gave the dutch also eleven living hogs; for which they got in return a present of knives, old nails, and glass beads, with which they were well pleased. the natives of this island were of a dark yellow colour, so tall, large, strong, and well-proportioned, that the tallest of the dutch could only be compared with the smallest among them. some wore their hair curled, frizzled, or tied up in knots, while others had it standing bolt upright on their heads, like hog's-bristles, a quarter of an ell high. the king and some of his chief men had long locks of hair, hanging down below their hips, bound with a few knots. the women were all very ugly figures, short and ill-shaped, their breasts hanging down to their bellies like empty satchels, and their hair close cropped. both sexes were entirely naked, except a slight covering in front. they seemed altogether void of any devotion, and free from care, living on what the earth spontaneously produces, without any art, industry, or cultivation. they neither sow nor reap, neither buy nor sell, neither do any thing for a living, but leave all to nature, and must starve if that fail them at any time. they seem also to have as little regard for the dictates of decency and modesty, as for those of civil policy and prudence; for they will use their women openly in the largest assembly, even in presence of their king, whom, in other respects, they so greatly reverence. to this island the dutch gave the name of horn island, from the town in holland whence they fitted out; and named the haven in which they anchored _unity bay_, after their ship. this bay, resembling a natural dock, is on the south side of the island, in the latitude of ° ' s.[ ] [footnote : modern voyagers describe this mode of dressing more minutely. a pit is dug in the earth, which is lined with heated stones, on which the hog is placed, having hot stones in its belly, and is covered with other hot stones, when the pit is covered up like a grave. after remaining a sufficient time in this situation, the _barbacued hog_ is said to be nicely dressed.--e.] [footnote : the latitude and longitude of horn island have been given in a former note, but its most extreme south point may reach to ° ' s.--e.] leaving horn island on the st of june, they saw no other land till the st, when they made towards a very low island bearing s.s.w. by w. from them, in lat. ° ' s. near which were several sands stretching n.w. from the land, as also three or four small islands very full of trees. here a canoe came to the unity, of the same odd fashion with those formerly described. the people also were much like those formerly seen, only blacker, and armed with bows and arrows, being the first they had seen among the indians of the south sea. these people told them, by signs, that there was more land to the westwards, where their king dwelt, and where there were good refreshments to be had. on this information, they sailed on the d w. and w. by n. in the lat. of ° ' s. and saw that day at least twelve or thirteen islands close together, lying w.s.w. from them, and reaching s.e. and n.w. about half a league, but they left these to larboard. the th, the wind being s. they saw three low islands to larboard, s.w. of their course, one of them very small, the other two being each two miles long, all very full of trees, to which they gave the name of _green islands_.[ ] the shores of these islands were rugged and full of cliffs, presenting no place for anchoring, wherefore they proceeded on their voyage. [footnote : these green islands of schouten are laid down in our best modern maps in lat. ° s. and long. ° ' w. the other two groups mentioned at this place in the text and without names, seem to have been the _four islands_ and the _nine islands_ of carteret, to the s.e. of green islands.--e.] on the th, being st john the baptist's day, they sailed past another island, on which were seven or eight hovels, which they named st john's island. [lat. ° ' s. long. ° ' w.] at this time they saw some very high land to the s.w. which they thought to be the western point of new guinea.[ ] they reached this coast by noon, and sailed along, sending their boat in search of an anchorage, but no bottom could then be found. two or three canoes filled with a barbarous people attacked the boat with slings, but were soon driven away by the muskets. these people were very black, entirely naked, and spoke a quite different language from that of the islanders they had seen hitherto. they kept fires burning on the coast all night, and some of them came lurking about the ship in their canoes; but though the dutch, on discovering them, did every thing they could to conciliate, they would not understand any signs made for procuring provisions, but answered all with horrible noises and outcries. [footnote : this land was discovered afterwards to be separate from new guinea, and is now named new ireland, having another large island interposed, called new britain.--e.] at night, they anchored in a bay in fathoms on uneven ground. about this place the country was high and verdant, and afforded a pleasant prospect, being, as they guessed, leagues west from the coast of peru. in the morning of the th, three canoes came to the ship, quite full of these barbarians, being well armed after their manner, with clubs, wooden swords, and slings. the dutch treated them kindly, giving them several toys to procure their favour; but they were not to be won by kindness, neither could they be taught good manners except by the language of the great guns: for they presently assaulted the ship with all their force, and continued till ten or twelve of them were slain by cannon-shot. they then threw themselves into the water, endeavouring to escape by swimming and diving; but they were pursued in the water by the boat, when several were knocked in the head, and three prisoners taken, besides four of their canoes, which were cut up as fuel for the use of the ship. though these savages would not formerly understand any signs, they were now more apt, and understood that hogs and bananas were demanded in ransom for the prisoners. one wounded man was set at liberty, but the dutch exacted ten hogs for the others. this island afforded a sort of birds that are all over bright red. north of it lay another island, of which they made no other discovery, except its position in regard to this. the dutch concluded that these people were of the _papuas_ nation, because of their short hair, and because they chewed betel mixed with chalk. in the evening of the th, they sailed from hence, and next day held a course to the n.w. and n.w. by n. with a shifting wind till noon, and then a calm. they had the point of the island in view till evening, though they sailed along the coast, which was full of bays and turnings, and trended n.w. and n.w. by w. this day they saw other three high islands, which lay northwards five or six miles from the greater one, being then in the latitude of ° ' s. the th in the morning, several canoes of these black papuas came off to the ship, and being allowed to come aboard, broke certain staves over the dutch, in sign of peace. their canoes were more artificially made and ornamented than the others, and the people seemed more civilized and more modest, as they had the pudenda covered, which the others had not. their hair was rubbed over with chalk, their black frizly locks appearing as if powdered. they affected to be poor, and came to beg, not bringing any thing to the ship, yet the four islands whence they came appeared, to be well stored with cocoas. on the st june, the dutch came to anchor between the coast of new guinea and an island two miles long. they were soon after surrounded by twenty-five canoes, full of the same people who had broken staves the day before in token of peace, and who came now fully armed in guise of war. they were not long of entering on the work they came about. two of them laid hold of two anchors which hung from the bows of the ship, and endeavoured with their girdles to tug the ship on shore. the rest lay close to the ship's sides, and gave a brisk onset with slings and other weapons; but the great guns soon forced them to retire, with twelve or thirteen killed, and many more wounded. after this, the dutch sailed peaceably along the coast, with a good gale of wind, continuing their course w.n.w. and n.w. by w. the d they were in lat. ° ' s. and saw a low land to larboard, and right before them a low island. continuing w.n.w. with a slight current at e.n.e. they sailed gently along. the d they saw high land, bearing w. about leagues from the other island, and in lat. ° ' s. the th, while passing these four island, they suddenly came in view of twenty-three other islands, some great, some small, some high, and others low, most of which they left to starboard, and only two or three to larboard. some of these were a league distant from the others, and some only a cannon-shot. their latitude was in ° ' s. a little more or less. on the th in the morning, the weather being variable and even sometimes stormy, they had in the morning a very high hill before them, bearing s.w. which they thought to have been _geeminassi_ in banda; but, on a nearer approach, they discovered three other hills more like it in the north, some six or seven leagues distant, which they were convinced were that hill of banda.[ ] behind these hills lay a large tract of land, stretching east and west, of very great extent, and very uneven. in the morning of the th, they sailed towards these mighty hills, some of which they found were volcanoes, for which reason they named this _vulcan's island_. it was well inhabited and fall of cocoa-nut trees, but had no convenient place for anchorage. the inhabitants were naked, and extremely fearful of the dutch, and their language so different from that of all the neighbouring people, that none of the blacks could understand them. more islands appeared to the n. and n.w. but they proceeded to a very low island, bearing n.w. by w. which they reached in the evening. the water here was observed to be of several colours, green, white, and yellow, perhaps occasioned by the mixture of some river, as it was far sweeter than ordinary sea water, and was full of leaves and boughs of trees, on some of which were birds, and even some crabs. [footnote : they still had the north-western end of papua or new guinea between them and banda, from which they were distant at least twelve degrees of longitude.--e.] on the th, continuing their course w.n.w. having a high island on the starboard, and another somewhat lower to larboard, they anchored in the afternoon in fathoms on a good sandy bottom, about a cannon-shot from the land, at an island in ° ' s. which seemed an unhealthy place, yielding nothing of any value except a little ginger. it was inhabited by papuas or blacks, whose ridiculous mode of dress, and their own natural deformity, made them appear little short of a kind of monsters. hardly any of them but had something odd and strange, either in the bigness or position of their limbs. they had strings of hog's teeth hung about their necks; their noses were perforated, in which rings were fastened; their hair was frizled, and their faces very ugly. their houses also were extremely singular, being mounted on stakes, eight or nine feet above the ground. before noon of the th, they anchored in a more convenient bay, in fathoms, on a bottom of sand mixed with clay. there were two villages near the shore, whence some canoes brought off hogs and cocoas, but the indians held them at so dear a rate that the dutch would not buy any of them. though they had now sailed so long upon this new land, yet were they unable to determine with any certainty if it actually were the coast of new guinea, as their charts neither agreed with each other, nor with the coast in view. this coast for the most part ran n.w. by w. sometimes more westerly, and at other times more northerly. yet they held on their course w.n.w. along the coast, having quiet weather though dull winds, but assisted by a stream or current setting along the coast to the westwards. proceeding in this manner, they came into the lat. of ° ' s. at noon of the th. continuing their course on the th and th, the coast in sight was sometimes high and at other times low. the th, still pursuing the same course, they reached two low islands about half a league from the main, about the latitude of ° ' s. where they had good anchorage in and fathoms. seeing the country well stored with cocoas, two boats well armed were sent with orders to land and procure some cocoa-nuts. but they were forced to retire by the indians, in spite of their muskets, at least sixteen of the dutch, being wounded by arrows and stones thrown from slings. in the morning of the th, they sailed in between the two low islands, and anchored in a safe place in nine fathoms. they landed that day on the smaller island, where they burnt some huts of the natives, and brought away as many cocoa-nuts as gave three to each man of the company. the barbarous natives became now more tractable; as on the th they came to make their peace-offerings of cocoas, bananas, ginger, and certain yellow roots [turmeric] used instead of saffron. they even trusted the dutch so far as to come on board, when peace was entirely restored, and their hearts won by a few nails and beads. they continued bartering on the th, for cocoas and bananas, procuring fifty nuts and two bunches of bananas for each man of the company, with a smaller quantity of cassava and _papade_. these cassavas and papades are east india commodities, the former being also to be had particularly good in the west indies, and far preferable to what they got here. the people make all their bread of this substance, baking it in large round cakes. this smaller island, which is the more easterly, the natives named _mosa_; the other over against it they call _jusan_, and the farthest off _arimea_, which, is very high, and about five or six leagues from the coast of new guinea.[ ] these places had probably been visited before by europeans, as they had among them some spanish pots and jars. they were not nearly so much surprised at the report of the great guns as the others had been, neither were they so curious in looking at the ship. [footnote : these names are not to be found in our modern general maps, though certainly infinitely better for all the uses of geography than the absurd appellations so much in use among voyagers.--e.] on the st at noon, sailing along the land as before n.w. they were in lat. ° ' s. the current drove them to a cluster of islands, where they anchored in thirteen fathoms, and were detained all day of the d by storms of thunder and rain. setting sail in the morning of the d, six large canoes overtook them, bringing dried fish, cocoas, bananas, tobacco, and a small sort of fruit resembling plums. some indians also from another island brought provisions to barter, and some vessels of china porcelain. like other savages, they were excessively fond of beads and iron; but they were remarkably distinguished from the natives in the last islands, by their larger size, and more orange-coloured complexions. their arms were bows and arrows, and they wore glass earrings of several colours, by which latter circumstance it appeared that they had been previously visited by other europeans, and consequently that this was not to be considered as a discovery. the th, steering n.w. and w.n.w. and being in lat. ° ' s. they sailed along a very pleasant island, which they named schouten's island, after their master,[ ] and called its western point cape of good hope. the th they passed an extensive tract of uneven land on their larboard hand, stretching from e.s.e. to w.n.w. the th they saw three other islands, the coast stretching n.w. by w. the th they were in lat. ° ' s. still seeing much land to the south, some of which were very high and some low, which they passed, continuing their course to the north of west. the th they felt the shock of an earthquake, which shook the ship to that degree that the men ran terrified out of their births, believing the ship had run a-ground, or had bilged against some rock. on heaving the lead they found the sea unfathomable, and their ship clear from all danger of rocks or shoals. the th they put into a great bay, out of which they could find no opening to the west, and resumed therefore a northern course. here the ship trembled again with loud claps of thunder, and was almost set on fire by the lightning, had it not been prevented by prodigious rain. [footnote : the centre of schouten island is in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° w. it is nearly leagues long from e. to w. and about eight leagues from n. to s. in some maps this island is named _mysory_, probably the native appellation, and it lies off the mouth of a great bay, having within it another island of considerable size, called _jobie_, or traitor's island.--e.] the st, continuing a northern course, they passed to the north of the equator, and being encompassed almost all round by land, they anchored in twelve fathoms on good ground, near a desolate island which lay close by the main land. the st of august they were in lat. ° ' n. the d and d being calm, they were carried by the current w. and w. by n. this day at noon their latitude was ° ' n. when they saw several whales and sea-tortoises, with two islands to the westwards. they now reckoned themselves at the western extremity of the land of new guinea, along which they had sailed leagues. several canoes came off to them in the morning of the th, bringing indian beans, rice, tobacco, and two beautiful birds of paradise, all white and yellow. these indians spoke the language of ternate, and some of them could speak a little spanish and malayan, in which last language clawson the merchant was well skilled. all the people in these canoes were finely clothed from the waist downwards, some with loose silken robes, and others with breeches, and several had silken turbans on their head, being mahometans. all of them had jet black hair, and wore many gold and silver rings on their fingers. they bartered their provisions with the dutch for beads and other toys, but seemed more desirous of having linen. they appeared so fearful and suspicious of the dutch, that they would not tell the name of their country, which however was suspected to be one of the three eastern points of gilolo, and that the people were natives of tidore, which was afterwards found to be the case. in the morning of the th they set sail, holding a northern, course, intending to go round the north point of gilolo. the th they saw the north point of morty, or moraty, n.e. of gilolo. contending with variable winds and adverse currents it was the th before they could get into the bay of _soppy_ in gilolo, where they anchored in ten fathoms on sandy ground, about a cannon-shot from shore. here they procured poultry, tortoises, sago, and rice, which was a great relief for the company, still consisting of eighty-five men in health and vigour. leaving soppy on the th august they came to the desert island of moro on the st september, and, on closer examination, found it composed of several islands close together. they saw here a worm, or serpent, as thick as a man's leg and of great length. on the th they anchored off the coast of gilolo. at this place some of the seamen went ashore unarmed to catch fish, when four ternatese soldiers rushed suddenly out of the wood sword-in-hand while the dutchmen were drawing their net, intending to have slain them; but the surgeon called out to them _oran hollanda_, that is, _holland men_, on which the soldiers instantly stopped, throwing water on their heads in token of peace, and approaching in a friendly manner, said they had mistaken the dutchmen for spaniards. at the request of the seamen they went on board, where, being well treated, they promised to bring provisions and refreshment to the ship, which they afterwards did. sailing thence on the th they got sight of ternate and tidore on the th, and anchored on the th in the evening before malaya in ternate, in eleven fathoms sandy ground. here captain schouten and jaques le maire went ashore, and were kindly entertained by the general laurence real, admiral stephen verhagen, and jasper janson, governor of amboina. on the th they sold two of their pinnaces, with most of what had been saved out of the unfortunate horn, receiving for the same reals, with part of which they purchased two lasts of rice, a ton of vinegar, a ton of spanish wine, and three tons of biscuit. on the th they sailed for bantam, and on the th of october anchored at jacatra, now batavia. john peterson koen, president for the dutch east india company at bantam, arrived there on the st of october, and next day sequestered the unity and her cargo, as forfeited to the india company for illegally sailing within the boundaries of their charter. * * * * * in consequence of the seizure of the unity, captain schouten and jaques le maire, with others of their people, embarked at bantam in the amsterdam and zealand on the th december, , on which they set sail for holland. on the st of that month jaques le maire died, chiefly of grief and vexation on account of the disastrous end of an enterprise which had been so successful till the arrest of the ship and cargo. he was, however, exceedingly solicitous about his journal, which he had kept with the utmost care during the voyage, and left a recommendation that it should be published, that the world might know and judge of the usage they had received. the amsterdam arrived in zealand on the st july, , where her consort had arrived the day before. thus was this circumnavigation of the globe completed in two years and eighteen days; which, considering the difficulties of the course, and other circumstances of the voyage, was a wonderfully short period.[ ] [footnote : in the collection of harris this voyage is succeeded by a dissertation on the high probability of a southern continent existing, and that this supposed continent must be another _indies_. both of these fancies being now sufficiently overthrown by the investigations of our immortal cook, and other modern navigators, it were useless to encumber our pages with such irrelevant reveries.--e.] chapter vii. voyage of the nassau fleet round the world, in - , under the command of jaques le hermite.[ ] [footnote : harris i. . callend. ii. .] introduction. the government of the united netherlands, considering it proper to distress their arch enemy the king of spain by every means in their power, determined upon sending a powerful squadron into the south sea, to capture the ships of his subjects, to plunder the coasts of his dominions, and to demolish his fortifications. accordingly, in autumn , a final resolution for this purpose was entered into by the states general, with the concurrence of their stadtholder, prince maurice of orange, who even advanced a considerable sum of money towards it from his own funds; and a fleet of no less than eleven ships of war, besides smaller vessels, were ordered to be fitted out for the expedition, by the several admiralties of the union and the east india company. this fleet was in condition for putting to sea in spring , when the command was intrusted to jaques le hermite, an able and accomplished seaman of great experience, who had been long in the service of the east india company, and was now appointed admiral of the fleet; hugo schapenham being vice-admiral. the ships fitted out on this occasion by the admiralty of amsterdam were,-- . the amsterdam of tons, admiral, carrying twenty brass cannon and twenty-two iron, with men, commanded by leenders jacobson stolk, as captain, peter wely being supercargo, engelbert schutte commander of the soldiers on board, frederick van reneygom fiscal or judge-advocate, john van walbeck, engineer, and justin van vogelair engineer extraordinary. . the delft of tons, vice-admiral, having twenty brass and twenty iron cannon, with men, commanded by captain cornelius de witte. . the eagle of tons, captain meydert egbertson, of twelve brass and sixteen iron cannon, with men. . a yacht called the greyhound, of sixty tons, captain solomon willelmson, carrying four brass cannons and twenty men. the admiralty of zealand fitted out only one ship for this expedition. . the orange of tons, captain laurence john quirynen, and carrying likewise the rear-admiral, john william verschoor. her complement of men was .[ ] [footnote : her number of guns is not mentioned, but she could hardly have less than thirty-six from her size--e.] the admiralty of the maes furnished the following ships: . the holland of tons and men, carrying ten pieces of brass and twenty of iron ordnance. in this ship was cornelius jacobson, who was counsellor to admiral le hermite, but the ship was immediately commanded by captain adrian troll. . the maurice of tons and men, having twelve brass and twenty iron cannon, commanded by captain james adrianson. . the hope of tons and eighty men, with fourteen iron cannon, captain peter hermanson slobbe. the admiralty of north holland also provided the following ships: . the concord of tons and men, with eighteen brass and fourteen iron cannon, captain john ysbrandtz. . the king david of tons and seventy-nine men, with sixteen pieces of brass cannon, captain john thomason. . the griffin of tons, and seventy-eight men, with fourteen iron cannon, captain peter cornelison hurdloop. the whole of this fleet of eleven sail, carrying pieces of cannon, had men, of whom were regular soldiers, divided into five companies of men in each. the east india company contributed largely to the expence, but does not appear to have equipped any ships on this occasion. section i. _incidents of the voyage from holland to the south sea_. this armament, usually called the nassau fleet, was by far the most considerable that had hitherto been sent against the spaniards in the new world, and none so powerful has since navigated along the western coast of america in an hostile manner. it sailed on the th april, , from goeree roads, all but the orange, which joined next day. on the th june, while chasing a barbary corsair, a christian slave, who happened to be at the helm, ran the corsair on board the dutch vice-admiral, and immediately he and other slaves took the opportunity of leaping on board to escape from slavery. the captain of the corsair, who happened to be a dutch renegado, followed them, and demanded restitution of his slaves; but the vice-admiral expostulated so strongly with him on the folly and infamy of deserting his country and religion, that he sent for every thing belonging to him out of the corsair, and agreed to go along with the fleet, to the regret of the turks, who thus lost their captain and seventeen good men. on the th july the fleet anchored in the road of st vincent, which is extremely safe and commodious, where they procured refreshments of sea-tortoises, fish, goats, and oranges. the islands of st vincent and st antonio are the most westerly of the cape verds, being in from ° ' to ° n. latitude, and about two leagues from each other. the bay of st vincent, in which they anchored, is in lat. ° ' n. and has a good firm sandy bottom, with eighteen, twenty, and twenty-five fathoms water. the island of st vincent is rocky, barren, and uncultivated, having very little fresh water, though they found a small spring which might have served two or three ships. by digging wells they procured plenty of water, but somewhat brackish, to which they attributed the bloody flux, which soon after began to prevail in the fleet. the goats there, of which they caught fifteen or sixteen every day, were very fat and excellent eating. the sea-tortoises which they took there were from two to three feet long. they come on shore to lay their eggs, which they cover with sand, leaving them to be hatched by the heat of the sun. their season of laying eggs is from august to february, remaining all the rest of the year in the sea. they caught every night great numbers of these animals while ashore to lay their eggs, and the sailors found them wholesome and pleasant food, eating more like flesh than fish. this island is altogether uninhabited, but the people of st lucia come here once a year to catch tortoises, for the sake of an oil they prepare from them; and to hunt goats, the skins of which are sent to portugal, and their flesh, after being salted and dried at st jago, is exported to brazil. there are no fruit-trees in this island, except a few wild figs in the interior; besides which, it produces colocinth, or bitter apple which is a very strong purge.[ ] this island has a very dry climate, except during the rainy season, which begins in august and ends in february, but is not very regular. [footnote : cucumis colocynthis, a plant of the cucumber family, producing a fruit about the size of an orange, the medullary part of which, when ripe, dried, and freed from the seeds, is a very light, white, spongy substance, composed of membranous leaves, excessively bitter, nauseous, and acrid.] the island of st antonio is inhabited by about negroes, including men, women, and children, who subsist chiefly on goats, and also cultivate a small quantity of cotton. on the sea-side they have extensive plantations of lemons and oranges, whence they gather great quantities every year. these were very readily supplied to the dutch by the negroes in exchange for mercery goods, but they saw neither hogs, sheep, nor poultry in the island. sailing from st vincent's on the th july, they anchored in the road of sierra leona on the th august. here on the th some of the crew being on shore, eat freely of certain nuts resembling nutmegs, which had a fine taste, but had scarcely got on board when one of them dropt down dead, and before he was thoroughly cold he was all over purple spots. the rest recovered by taking proper medicines. sierra leona is a mountain on the continent of africa, standing on the south side of the mouth of the river mitomba, which discharges itself into a great bay of the sea. the road in which ships usually anchor is in the lat. of ° ' n. this mountain is very high, and thickly covered with trees, by which it may be easily known, as there is no mountain of such height any where upon the coast. there grow here a prodigious number of trees, producing a small kind of lemons called _limasses_, (limes?) resembling those of spain in shape and taste, and which are very agreeable and wholesome, if not eaten to excess. the dutch fleet arrived here at the season when this fruit was in perfection, and having full leave from the natives, the people eat them intemperately; by which, and the bad air, the bloody flux increased much among them, so that they lost forty men between the th of august and the th september. sierra leona abounds in palm-trees, and has some ananas, or pine-apples, with plenty of wood of all sorts, besides having an exceedingly convenient watering-place opposite to the anchorage. they sailed from sierra leona on the th september, on which day the admiral fell sick. on the th they were off the island of st thomas, just on the north side of the line, and anchored on the st of october at cape lopo gonzalves, in lat. ° ' s. at this place the surgeon of the maurice was convicted on his own confession of having poisoned seven sick men, because they had given him much trouble, for which he was beheaded. on the th of october they anchored in the road of annobon, where they obtained hogs and fowls, and were allowed to take in water, and to gather as many oranges as they thought proper. the east end of this island, where are the road and village, is in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° e. from greenwich. the island is about six leagues in circuit, consisting of high and tolerably good land, and is inhabited by about families of negroes, who are governed by two or three portuguese, to whom they are very submissive. if any of them happen to be refractory, they are immediately sent away to the island of st thomas, a punishment which they greatly dread. the island abounds in ananas, bananas, cocoa-nuts, tamarinds, and sugar-canes; but the principal inducement for ships touching here is the great plenty of oranges, of which the dutch gathered upwards of , , besides what the seamen eat while on shore. these oranges were of great size and full of juice, some weighing three quarters of a pound, and of an excellent taste and flavour, as if perfumed. they are to be had ripe all the year round, but there is one season in which they are best and fittest for keeping, which was past before the dutch arrived, and the oranges were then mostly over ripe and beginning to rot. the island also produces lemons, and has plenty of oxen, cows, goats, and hogs, which the negroes bartered for salt. on the s.e. part of the island there is a good watering-place, but difficult to find, which is commanded by a stone breast-work, whence the negroes might greatly annoy any who attempted to water by force. they grow here some cotton, which is sent to portugal. the natives are treacherous, and require to be cautiously dealt with. the fleet left annobon on the th november, and on the th january, , they were in lat. ° ' s. where they saw many sea-gulls, and much herbage floating on the water, whence they supposed themselves near the continent of south america. on the th the sea appeared as red as blood, proceeding from an infinite quantity of a small species of shrimps. on the th they lost sight of their bark, in which were eighteen men, three of them portuguese. these people, as they afterwards learnt, having in vain endeavoured to rejoin the fleet, determined to return to holland. being in want of water, they sailed up the rio de la plata till they came into fresh water, after which they continued their voyage, suffering incredible hardships, and the utmost extremity of want, till they arrived on the coast of england, where they ran their vessel on shore to escape a privateer belonging to dunkirk, and afterward got back to holland. the st february the fleet came in sight of land, being cape de pennas.[ ] next day they found themselves at the mouth of the straits. this is easily distinguished, as the country on the east, called _saten land_, is mountainous, but broken and very uneven; while that on the west, called _maurice land_ by the dutch, or terra del fuego, has several small round hills close to the shore. the th they had sight of cape horn; and on the th, being in lat. ° ' s. they had excessively cold weather, which the people were ill able to bear, being on short allowance. on the th they were in lat. ° ' s. cape horn being then to the east of them, and anchored on the th in a large bay, which they named _nassau bay_.[ ] another bay was discovered on the th, in which there was good anchorage, with great convenience for wooding and watering, and which they called schapenham's bay, after the name of their vice-admiral. [footnote : this seems to be what is now called cape st vincent, at the w. side of the entrance into the straits of le maire.--e.] [footnote : the centre of nassau bay is in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. this bay is formed between terra del fuego on the north, and hermite's island south by east, the south-eastern extreme point of which is cape horn. this island appears to have been named after admiral le hermite.--e.] on the d a storm arose with such violence that nineteen men belonging to the eagle were compelled to remain on shore; and next day, when the boats were able to go for them, only two of these men were left alive, the savages having come upon them in the dark, and knocked seventeen of them on the head with their slings and wooden clubs, the poor dutchmen being all unarmed, and not having offered the least injury or insult to the savages. only five of the dead bodies were found on the shore, which were strangely mangled, all the rest having been carried away by the savages, as it was supposed, to eat them. after this, every boat that went ashore carried eight or ten soldiers for their security; but none of the savages ever appeared again. the vice-admiral went on the th in the greyhound to visit the coast. on his return he reported to the admiral, that he found the terra del fuego divided into several islands, and that it was by no means necessary to double cape horn in order to get into the south sea, as they might pass out from nassau bay to the west into the open sea, leaving cape horn on the south. he apprehended also, that there were several passages from nassau bay leading into the straits of magellan. the greatest part of the _terra del fuego_ is mountainous, but interspersed with many fine vallies and meadows, and watered by numerous streams or rivulets, descending from the hills. between the islands there are many good roads, where large fleets may anchor in safety, and where there is every desirable convenience for taking in wood, water, and ballast. the winds, which rage here more than in any other country, and with inexpressible violence, blow constantly from the west, for which reason such ships as are bound westerly ought to avoid this coast as much as possible, keeping as far south as they can, where they are likely to meet with southerly winds to facilitate their westerly course. the inhabitants of the terra del fuego are as fair as any europeans, as was concluded by seeing a young child; but the grown-up people disguise themselves strangely, painting themselves with a red earth after many fanciful devices, some having their heads, others their arms, their legs and thighs red, and other parts of their bodies white. many of them have one half of their bodies red, from the forehead to the feet, and the other side white. they are all strong made and well-proportioned, and generally about the same stature with europeans. their hair is black, which they wear long, thick, and bushy, to make them the more frightful. they have good teeth, but very thin, and as sharp as the edge of a knife. the men go entirely naked, and the women have only a piece of skin about their waists, which is very surprising, considering the severity of the climate. their huts are made of trees, in the form of a round tent, having a hole at the top to let out the smoke. within they are sunk two or three feet under the surface of the ground, and the earth taken from this hollow is thrown upon the outside. their fishing-tackle is very curious, and is furnished with hooks made of stone, nearly of the same shape with ours. they are variously armed, some having bows and arrows artificially headed with stone; others long javelins or spears, headed with bone; some have great wooden clubs, some have slings, and most have stone knives, or daggers, which are very sharp. they are never seen without their arms, as they are always at war among themselves; and it would appear that the several tribes paint differently, that they may distinguish each other; for the people about the island of _torhaltens_, and about _schapenham bay_, were all painted black, while those about _greyhound bay_ were painted red. their canoes are very singular, being formed of bark, fortified both on the inside and outside with several pieces of small wood, and then covered over by bark, so as to be both tight and strong. these canoes are from ten to fourteen, and even sixteen feet long, and two feet broad, and will contain seven or eight men, who navigate them as swiftly as our boats. in manners, these people resemble beasts more than men, for they tear human bodies in pieces, and eat the raw and bloody flesh. they have not the smallest spark of religion, neither any appearance of polity or civilization, being in all respects utterly brutal, insomuch that if they have occasion to make water, they let fly upon whoever is nearest them. they have no knowledge of our arms, and would even lay their hands on the edges of the dutchmen's swords; yet are exceedingly cunning, faithless, and cruel; shewing every appearance of friendship at one time, and instantly afterwards murdering those with whom they have been familiar. the dutch found it impossible to procure any kind of refreshments from them, though such surely were among them, for quantities of cow-dung were seen; and their bow-strings were made of ox sinews: besides, a soldier who went ashore from the greyhound yacht, while she lay at anchor, reported to the vice-admiral, that he had seen a large herd of cattle feeding in a meadow.[ ] [footnote : this is not at all likely to have been true. the cattle, the dung, and the sinews mentioned in the text, are more likely to have been of some species of the seal tribe--e.] on the th of february, , the admiral made a signal for sailing, the wind being then n. so that hopes were entertained of getting from the bay of nassau to the west; but a storm came on in the evening at w. and blew hard all night. march d, they had an observation at noon, when they were in lat, ° ' s. with the wind at n.w. hitherto it had been the opinion of nautical men, that it was easy to get from the straits of le maire to chili, but hardly possible to pass from chili by that strait into the atlantic, as they imagined that the south wind blew constantly in these seas: but they now found the case quite otherwise, as the frequent tempests they encountered from w. and n.w. rendered it beyond comparison easier to have passed through the straits of le maire from the south sea than from the atlantic. the wind still continuing strong from the west on the th, the admiral held a council to consider of a proper rendezvous for the fleet, in case of separation, or of being forced to winter, if these west winds should still continue to oppose their entry into the south sea. some proposed the terra del fuego, and others the straits of magellan. but the majority were of opinion, that it was best to wait two months for a fair wind, and to use their utmost endeavours to get into the south sea. on the th they were in ° s. on the th in °, and on the th, th and th they had a fair wind at s.e. with warm weather, so that they were now in hopes of having accomplished their purpose. on the th they lost sight of the maurice and david, the fleet being now reduced to seven sail; and the same evening they were in lat. ° s. the th, having still a fair wind and good weather, they reached ° s. and were then in great hopes of overcoming all difficulties. the th they got sight of the coast of chili, bearing e.s.e. and in the evening were within a league of the shore, which appeared high and mountainous. section ii: _transactions of the fleet on the western coast of america_. the admiral was at this time confined to bed, and wished to have put into the port of chiloe; but his instructions did not allow of this measure, requiring the performance of some action of importance against the spaniards in peru. it was therefore resolved to proceed for the island of juan fernandez, to make the best preparations in their power for attacking the spanish galleons in the port of arica, if found there, and to gain possession of that place, after which it was proposed to extend their conquests by the aid of the indians. on the st april, being then in lat. ° ' s. the vice-admiral took to his bed, quite worn out with fatigue, so that they expected to lose both the admiral and him. on the th they had sight of juan fernandez, in lat. ° ' s. and next day came to anchor in sixty fathoms in a fine bay. the th orders were issued to provide all the ships with as many cheveaux-de-frize and pallisades as they could. the griffin joined the fleet in the evening, not having been seen since the d february. she had been in the lat. of ° s. and had got into the south sea without seeing cape horn. the orange arrived on the th, having twice seen the southern continent on her passage, once in lat. °, and the other time in lat. ° s.[ ] the david came in on the th, bringing advice of the maurice, both vessels having been five or six days beating about the island, but hindered from getting in by contrary winds. [footnote : no land whatever could be seen in these latitudes in the eastern pacific, so that they must have been deceived by fog, banks, or islands of ice.--e.] the larger and more easterly of the two islands of juan fernandez is in the latitude of ° ' s. five degrees west from the coast of chili; this island being called by the spaniards _isla de tierra_, and the smaller or more westerly island _isla de fuera_, which is a degree and a half farther east.[ ] [footnote : isola de tierra, the eastermost of these islands of juan fernandez, in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° ' e. is about english miles from e. to w. by - / miles in its greatest breadth from n. to s. besides this and isola de fuera, mentioned in the text, there is still a third, or smallest island, a mile and a half south from the s.w. end of the isola de tierra, called isola de cabras or conejos, goat or rabbit island, three english miles from n.w. to s.e. and a mile in breadth.--e.] the more easterly and larger island, at which the nassau fleet anchored, is about six leagues in circuit, and is about two leagues and a half long, from east to west. the road is on the n.e. part of the island, from whence there is a beautiful prospect of valleys covered with clover. the ground of this bay is in some places rocky, and in others a fine black sand, and it affords good anchorage in thirty to thirty-five fathoms. the island produces excellent water, and fish are to be had in abundance in the bay, and of various kinds. many thousand seals and sea-lions come daily on shore to bask in the sun, of which the seamen killed great numbers, both for food and amusement. some of the dutch fancied that the flesh of these animals tasted as if twice cooked, while others thought, after the grease and tallow were carefully taken out, that it was as good as mutton. there were many goats in the island, but difficult to be taken, and neither so fat nor so well tasted as those of st vincents. there were plenty of palm-trees in the interior, and three large quince-trees near the bay, the fruit of which was very refreshing. they found also plenty of timber for all kinds of uses, but none fit for masts. formerly, ten or twelve indians used to reside here, for the sake of fishing and making oil from the seals and sea-lions, but it was now quite uninhabited. three gunners and three soldiers belonging to the vice-admiral, were so sick of the voyage, that they asked and obtained leave to remain here. every thing being in readiness, the fleet departed from _isla de tierra_ on the th april. on the th may, being near the coast of peru, they took a spanish bark, in which, besides the captain, there were four spaniards, and six or seven indians and negroes. from these, they learnt that the plate fleet had sailed on the d of the month from calao de lima for panama, consisting of five treasure ships, three rich merchantmen, and two men of war. they were also informed that the spanish admiral was still at calao, his ship being of tons burden, and mounting brass cannon; besides which, there were two _pataches_ of guns each, and forty or fifty unarmed merchant vessels. all these vessels were said to have been hauled on shore, and secured by three strong batteries and other works, furnished with upwards of fifty pieces of cannon, all ready prepared for the reception of the dutch, of whose motions the spaniards had received early and certain intelligence. the viceroy had likewise formed four companies of foot, of eighty men each, but the two best companies had gone with the ships to panama; and, having just learnt the approach of the dutch fleet, the viceroy had summoned the whole military force of peru, so that many thousand men must soon be expected at lima for its defence. after several consultations, the vice-admiral made an attempt to land at calao with the soldiers on the morning of the th may, but finding it impossible with any chance of success, was obliged to return to the fleet. on the th about midnight, three of the dutch captains, with twelve armed boats, each provided with a small cannon and a considerable quantity of fire-works, made an attack on the port, while a false attack was made at the same time in another part, to draw off the attention of the spaniards. the twelve boats entered the port, and distributed their fire-works plentifully among the spanish merchant ships, by which thirty or forty of them were set on fire and consumed, some of them very large. in this hardy enterprise, the dutch had seven men killed, and fifteen wounded, mostly in the vice-admiral's boat, which had attempted to board one of the _pataches_ and was beaten off. about the dawn of day, nine of the flaming ships drifted towards the dutch fleet, which was therefore obliged to weigh and take shelter behind the island of lima. on the th this island was taken possession of, and a strong intrenchment thrown up for its defence, under cover of which the dutch laid their shallops on shore to careen them. on the th cornelius jacobson sailed with a division of the fleet, to cruize off la nasca, pisco, and other towns to the south of lima. a rich prize was taken on the d, coming from guayaquil; and that same day, the rear-admiral was detached with two ships and two companies of soldiers to attempt taking guayaquil, but they found it too strongly defended. on the th an attempt was made to destroy the spanish admiral's ship in the port of calao, by means of a fire-ship containing pounds of gun-powder, besides fire-works and shells, confined by a brick arch six feet thick; but after navigating her very near the galleon, a bank was found on the outside of her which they could not pass, and they were therefore obliged to retire. admiral jaques le hermite, who had been in a declining state of health from the time they left sierra leona, died on the d june, and was buried next day in the island of lima. the spanish viceroy having refused to ransom the prisoners made by the dutch, and the ships being straitened for provisions especially water, twenty-one spaniards were hung up at the mizen yard-arm of the dutch admiral's ship on the th june. that same evening, cornelius jacobson returned with his detachment, having made an ineffectual attempt on pisco, which he found strongly fortified, and defended by men, besides a body of horse which scoured the country. in this attempt he had five men killed and sixteen wounded, and thirteen deserted to the enemy. at this time the scurvy prevailed to a great height in the fleet, so that some of the ships had not sufficient men in a sound state to man their boats; but one day a swiss, who was very ill of the scurvy, scrambled up to the top of the highest hill in the island of lima,[ ] where he found plenty of a kind of herb with which he had been well acquainted in his own country, and by eating which he soon recovered his health. this becoming public, his example was universally followed, by which the best part of the men were saved from death, and in a short time recovered their health and spirits. on the th august, the vice-admiral was installed as admiral, the rear-admiral succeeding him as vice-admiral, and cornelius jacobson was advanced to be rear-admiral. [footnote : the island of san lorenzo, a little to the south of calao, is evidently here meant.--e.] the new vice-admiral soon after returned from his expedition to the road of puna and guayaquil, where he had burnt two ships and captured a third. he had also taken guayaquil after considerable loss, and finding it untenable, and not having boats to carry away the booty, he had set it on fire, burning a great quantity of rich goods in the warehouses, after which he reimbarked his men. the dutch fleet sailed from the island of lima on the th of august, and anchored that same evening in a bay behind the piscadores islands, about twenty-three miles north, where they watered. continuing their course on the th, they came in sight of the island of santa clara, or amortajado, on the th, intending once more to visit guayaquil. the fleet anchored on the th in the road of the island of puna, whence all the people had fled, both spanish and indians, so that no intelligence could be procured of the strength and dispositions of the enemy. on the th, the guns, ballast, and stores of all kinds were removed from three of the largest ships, which were laid ashore to be careened. on the th, news came of the second attempt upon guayaquil having miscarried, through the fault of some of the officers, the troops being defeated and obliged to reimbark, with the loss of twenty-eight men. on the st september, the three largest ships being careened, they began to careen the rest. it was resolved in a council of war not to prosecute the originally intended expedition to chili at this time, but to proceed for acapulco, in order to cruize for the manilla ship; and afterwards, if the condition of the fleet permitted, to return to the coast of chili. accordingly, having set fire to the town of puna, they sailed from thence on the th september, and on the th october had sight of the coast of new spain. on the th at day-break they were within half a league of an island which lies before the port of acapulco and anchored in the evening within sight of the fort, which had been rebuilt the year before, on a point running out to sea, in order to protect the manilla ships, which might ride safely at anchor under the cannon of that fortress. on the st november, a strong detachment of the fleet was sent to anchor twenty leagues west from acapulco, to look out for the galleon, the admiral and the orange remaining before the port, and the other ships spread along the coast, that they might be sure of intercepting the galleon. on the th, water becoming scarce, and no appearance of the galleon, it was resolved to proceed with all diligence for the east indies. section iii. _voyage home from the western coast of america_. proceeding therefore across the great pacific ocean, they saw some very low land towards the west on the th january, , over which the sea broke with great violence, and which they conjectured to be the island of galperico.[ ] on the d the scurvy had made much progress, that there were hardly men enough to work the ships. in the evening of the th, they were off the coast of guam, one of the ladrones or mariane islands, the inhabitants coming two leagues out to sea to meet them, with all sorts of refreshments, which they exchanged for old iron, and next morning canoes came off with fruits and garden stuffs. on the th a good watering-place was found, where fifty soldiers were landed to protect the seamen. in the beginning of february, the natives brought them considerable quantities of rice, giving or pounds weight in exchange for an old hatchet. on the th, by a general muster, men were found to remain in the fleet, including spanish and negro prisoners, so that they had lost since leaving holland. [footnote : the relation of the voyage is too vague even to conjecture what island is here meant, but from the direction of the course towards guam or guaham it may possibly have been that now called dawson's island, about leagues nearly east from guam.--e.] the island of guam, guaham, or guaci, one of the group named by the spaniards _islas de las velas, ladrones_, or _mariane_ islands, is in lat ° ' n.[ ] the soil is tolerably fertile producing vast quantities of cocoas, and the natives grow rice in several places. the dutch procured here about fowls, but the natives would not part with their cattle for any price. the people of this island are larger than other indians' strong and well-proportioned, and are mostly painted red, the men going entirely naked, and the women having a leaf to cover their nakedness. their arms are _assagaies_, or javelins and slings, both of which they use with great dexterity. their canoes are very convenient, and go before the wind at a great rate; neither are these islanders afraid of putting to sea even in a storm; as, in case of their vessels being overset, they turn them up again immediately, and bale out the water. they were also very expert in cheating; for when the dutch came to examine the bags of rice they had bought so cheap, they found the insides full of stones and dirt; besides which, they stole every thing they could lay hold of. such persons also as land on this island ought to be very cautious, as the dutch had several of their people slain here, through their own folly. [footnote : lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' e. from greenwich.] proceeding on the voyage, they saw an island on the th of february, in the latitude of ° ' n. which they took to be the island of saavedra.[ ] next day, about nine in the morning, they saw another island, not laid down in the charts, in lat. ° ' n.[ ] the natives of which came out to them in canoes with fruits and other refreshments, but as the ships were sailing at a great rate, they were not able to get on board. the people seemed much like those of guam, and the island seemed very populous and highly cultivated. it was now resolved to continue their course to the island of gilolo, and thence to ternate. the d march, they had sight of the high mountain of [illegible], on the coast of moco, at the west end of the great island of [illegible] or _gilolo_, on the west side of which the molucca islands are situated. they arrived at _malaya_, the principal place in ternate, on the th in the evening. the th, or, according to the computation of the inhabitants, the th, jacob le feare, governor of the moluccas, came to visit the admiral, from _taluco_, where he then resided. the fleet proceeded on the th of april to amboina, and on the th sailed for batavia, where they arrived on the th of august. here the fleet was separated, part being sent on an expedition against malacca, and others to other places, so that here the voyage of the nassau fleet may be said to end, without having completed the circumnavigation, at least in an unbroken series. [footnote : the island of saavedra is in ° 'n. not far from this is the isle of [illegible] in lat. ° ' n. and long. [illegible] e. from greenwich.--e.] [footnote : this probably was the isle of [illegible], mentioned in the previous note.--e.] * * * * * after this expedition, there occurs a wide chasm in the history of circumnavigations, all that was attempted in this way, for many years afterwards, being more the effect of chance than of design.--_harris_. chapter viii. voyage round the world, in - , by captain john cooke, accompanied by captain cowley, and captain william dampier.[ ] introduction. in the collection of voyages and travels by harris, this voyage is made two separate articles, as if two distinct voyages, one under the name of captain cowley, and the other under that of dampier; though both are avowedly only separate relations of the same voyage, which was commanded by captain cooke, and ought to have gone under his name. on the present occasion both relations are retained, for reasons which will appear sufficiently obvious in the sequel; but we have placed both in one chapter, because only a single circumnavigation, though somewhat branched out by the separation of the original adventures. this chapter is divided into three sections: the _first_ of which contains the narrative of the principal voyage, so far as related by captain cowley; along with which the observations of dampier upon many of the places, visited during the voyage, are introduced. the _second_ continues the adventures of cowley on his return from india to europe, after separating from his first companions. the _third_ resumes the relation of the voyage, as written by dampier, and gives a continuation of the enterprise, after the separation of cowley. [footnote : dampier's voyage round the world, and cowley's do. both in a coll. of voyages in four vols. vo, published at london in . also harris, i. . and callender, ii. .] in the remainder of this introduction, taken from the collection by harris, an account is given of the origin of this voyage, together with a sketch of the previous adventures of dampier, before engaging in this enterprise, in both of which are contained some notices of the lawless, yet famous buccaneers, respecting whom a more detailed account is proposed to be inserted in a subsequent division of this work. dampier published an account of this voyage, to be found in a collection of voyages, in four volumes vo, printed at london in , for james and john knapton, and which have been used in preparing the present relation of this voyage for the press.--e. * * * * * the adventures of the _buccaneers of america_, however blameable, will render these men ever famous by their wonderful exploits. they usually fitted out small vessels in some of our colonies of america, and cruised in these till they were able to make prize of some larger ships. as their designs required the utmost secrecy, they very often took masters and pilots on board under false pretences, and did not explain to them the true nature of their expeditions till out to sea, when they were absolute masters. this was the case with captain cowley on the present occasion, a very intelligent man and able navigator, who happened to be in virginia in , and was prevailed upon to go as master of a privateer, said to be bound for _petit goave_, a french port in the island of st domingo, where these people used to take commissions. in reality, however, their purpose was to take what prizes they could, without the formality of a commission. it is proper to state, that this voyage, at least in part, is the same with the _first_ voyage of captain dampier round the world. before proceeding to the incidents of the voyage, we shall give a concise account of the grounds on which it was undertaken, and the commanders who were engaged in it; and this the rather, that the original journal of captain cowley, published by captain hacke, gives very little information on these subjects, probably because cowley was ashamed of having engaged in such an expedition. among the buccaneers who did so much mischief in the spanish west indies, was one john cooke, a native of the island of st christophers, a brisk bold man, who so distinguished himself as to be promoted to the rank of quarter-master in the ship commanded by captain yankey. on taking a spanish prize, which was converted into a privateer, cooke claimed the command of her, according to the custom, of the buccaneers; and being extremely popular, soon engaged a sufficient number of men to serve under him. the great majority of the buccaneers at this time being french, and dissatisfied to see an englishman invested with such a command, merely by the choice of the crew, without any commission, they plundered the english of their ships, goods, and arms, and turned them ashore on the island of _avache_, on the coast of st domingo, usually called _ash_ by english seamen. on this occasion, an old buccaneer, named captain _tristian_, having more humanity than the rest, carried captain davis, captain cooke, and eight other englishmen to petit goave; where, while captain tristian and many of his men were ashore, these englishmen made themselves masters of the ship, sending all the french in their turn ashore, and sailed to avache, where, by using captain tristian's name to the governor, they procured all the rest of their countrymen to be sent on board. being now sufficiently strong to set up for themselves, they resolved to make prize of whatever came in their way, and accordingly took two french ships, one laden with wine, and the other of considerable force, in which they embarked, carrying her and their prize goods to virginia, where they arrived in april . after selling their wines and other goods, they purchased provisions, naval stores, and every thing else that might be wanted during a long voyage, and fitted out their prize ship as a privateer, naming her the revenge. according to the narrative of cowley, she carried eight guns and men, while dampier gives her guns and men.[ ] [footnote : this difference, at least in regard to the size and force of the ship, will be found explained in the sequel, as they took a larger ship on the coast of africa, which they used during the voyage, and named the revenge after their own ship. the additional number of men mentioned by dampier is not accounted for.--e.] before proceeding to the narratives of this voyage, it is proper to give a concise account of captain william dampier, extracted from his own works, being an extraordinary character and an eminent navigator, whose many discoveries ought to recommend his memory to posterity, as a man of infinite industry, and of a most laudable public spirit. captain william dampier was descended of a very respectable family in the county of somerset, where he was born in . during the life of his father and mother, he had such education as was thought requisite to fit him for trade; but losing his parents while very young, and being of a roving disposition, which strongly incited him to the sea, those who now had the care of him resolved to comply with his humour, and bound him about to the master of a ship who lived at weymouth, in dorsetshire. with this master he made a voyage to france that year, and in the next went to newfoundland; but was so pinched by the severity of that climate, that on his return he went home to his friends, almost tired of the sea. soon after his return, however, hearing of a ship bound for the east indies from london, he went there in , and entered before the mast in the john and martha, in which he made a voyage to bantam. he returned to england in january, , and retired to the house of his brother in somersetshire, where he remained all the ensuing summer. in , he entered on board the prince royal, commanded by the famous sir edward spragge, and was in two engagements that summer against the dutch. he afterwards returned to his brother's house, where he met with one colonel hellier, who had a large estate in jamaica, and who persuaded him to go over to that island, where he was some time employed in the management of that gentleman's plantation. not liking the life of a planter, which he continued somewhat more than a year, he engaged among the logwood cutters, and embarked from jamaica for campeachy, in august , but returned to jamaica in the end of that year. in february , he went again to campeachy, where he acquainted himself thoroughly with the business of logwood cutting, in which he proposed to advance his fortune; for which purpose he returned to england in . while in campeachy, he became acquainted with some buccaneers, who gave him an inclination for that kind of life, in which he was afterwards engaged, but of which in the sequel he became much ashamed. he returned from england to jamaica in april , intending to become a complete logwood cutter and trader at the bay of campeachy; but changed his mind, and laid out most part of what he was worth in purchasing a small estate in dorsetshire. he then agreed with one hobby to make a trip to the continent, before returning to england. soon after commencing this voyage, coming to anchor in negril bay at the west end of jamaica, they found there captains coxon, sawkins, sharpe, and other privateers, with whom all mr hobby's men entered, leaving only mr dampier, who also at length consented to go with them. this was about the end of , and their first expedition was against portobello. this being accomplished, they resolved to cross the isthmus of darien, and to pursue their predatory courses against the spaniards in the south sea. on the th april, , they landed near _golden island_, between three and four hundred strong; and carrying with them sufficient provisions, and some toys to gratify the indians, through whose country they had to pass, they arrived in nine days march at _santa maria_, which they easily took, but found neither gold nor provisions, as they expected. after staying three days at santa maria, they embarked in canoes and other small craft for the south sea. they came in sight of panama on the d april, and in vain attempted to take _puebla nova_, where their commander captain sawkins was slain. they then withdrew to the isles of _quibo_, whence they sailed on the th june for the coast of peru; and touching at the islands of _gorgonia_ and _plata_, they came in the month of october to _ylo_, which they took. about christmas of that year they arrived at the island of juan fernandez, where they deposed captain sharpe, who had the chief command after the death of sawkins, and elected captain watling in his stead. under his command they made an attempt upon arica, but were repulsed with the loss of twenty-eight men, among whom was their new commander watling. after this they sailed for some time without any commander; and, arriving at the island of _plata_, they split into two factions about the choice of a new commander. before proceeding to the election, it was agreed that the majority, together with the new commander, should keep the ship, and the minority should content themselves with the canoes and other small craft. on the poll, captain sharpe was restored, and mr dampier, who had voted against him, prepared, together with his associates, to return over land to the gulf of mexico. accordingly, on the th april, , they quitted captain sharpe, without electing any commander, and resolved to repass the isthmus of darien, though only forty-seven men. this was one of the boldest enterprises ever ventured upon by so small a number of men, yet they succeeded without any considerable loss. landing on the continent on the st of may, they repassed the isthmus in twenty-three days; and on the th embarked in a french privateer, commanded by captain tristian, with whom they joined a fleet of nine buccaneers, on board of which were nearly men. with this great force they were in hopes of doing great things against the spaniards; but, owing to various accidents, and especially to disagreement among the commanders, they had very little success. dampier and his companions, who had returned over land from the south sea, made themselves masters of a _tartan_, and, electing captain wright to the command, they cruised along the spanish coast with some success, and went to the dutch settlement of curaçoa, where they endeavoured to sell a good quantity of sugar they had taken in a spanish ship. not being able to effect this purpose, they continued their voyage to the tortugas islands, and thence to the caraccas, where they captured three barks, one laden with hides, another with european commodities, and the third with earthenware and brandy. with these prizes they sailed to the island of _roca_, where they shared them, and then resolved to separate, though only consisting of sixty men. twenty of these, among whom was dampier, proceeded with their share of the goods in one of these barks to virginia, where they arrived in july, . after continuing there some time, a considerable part of them made a voyage to carolina, whence they returned to virginia. having spent the best part of their wealth, they were now ready to proceed upon any plan that might offer for procuring more. soon after captain cooke, of whom some account has been already given, came to virginia with his prize, and published his intention of going into the south sea to cruise against the spaniards. dampier, who was his old acquaintance, and knew him to be an able commander, readily agreed to go with him, and induced most of his companions to do the same, which was of much consequence to cooke, as it furnished him with a full third of his crew. section i. _narrative of the voyage by captain cowley, till he quitted the revenge on the western coast of america_.[ ] they sailed from achamack in virginia on the d august, , taking their departure from cape charles in the revenge of eight guns and fifty-two men, john cooke commander, and bound for the south sea; but captain cowley, who had charge of the navigation of the revenge as master, not being then let into the secret object of the enterprise, steered a course for petit goave in st domingo, in which he was indulged for the first day, but was then told that they were bound in the first place for the coast of guinea. he then steered e.s.e. for the cape de verd islands, and arrived at _isola de sal_, or the salt island, in the month of september. they here found neither fruits nor water, but great plenty of fish, and some goats, but the last were very small. at this time the island, which is in the latitude of ° ' n. and longitude ° w. from greenwich, was very oddly inhabited, and as strangely governed. its whole inhabitants consisted of four men and a boy, and all the men were dignified with titles. one, a mulatto, was governor, two were captains, and the fourth lieutenant, the boy being their only subject, servant, and soldier. they procured here about twenty bushels of salt, the only commodity of the island, which they paid for in old clothes, and a small quantity of powder and shot; and in return for three or four goats, gave the governor a coat, of which he was in great want, and an old hat. the salt in which this island abounds, and from which it derives its name, is formed naturally by the heat of the sun from the sea-water, which is let into great ponds about two english miles in extent. [footnote : the original narrative of this voyage, written by captain cowley, is contained in the fourth volume of the collection of voyages published in by james and john knapton, usually denominated dampier's voyages, and has been used on the present occasion.--e] this island is about nine leagues from n. to s. and about two leagues from e. to w. and has abundance of salt ponds, whence it derives its name, but produces no trees, and hardly even any grass, some few poor goats feeding scantily upon shrubs near the sea. it is frequented by wild fowl, especially a reddish bird named _flamingo_, shaped like a heron, but much larger, which lives in ponds and muddy places, building their nests of mud in shallow pools of standing waters. their nests are raised like conical hillocks, two feet above the water, having holes on the top, in which they lay their eggs, and hatch them while standing on their long legs in the water, covering the nest and eggs only with their rumps. the young ones do not acquire their true colour, neither can they fly till ten or eleven months old, but run very fast. a dozen or more of these birds were killed, though very shy, and their flesh was found lean and black, though not ill tasted. their tongues are large, and have near the root a piece of fat, which is esteemed a dainty. from hence they sailed to the island of st nicholas, twenty-two leagues w.s.w. from the island of salt, and anchored on the s.w. side of the island, which is of a triangular form, the longest side measuring thirty leagues, and the two others twenty leagues each. they here found the governor a white man, having three or four people about him, who were decently cloathed, and armed with swords and pistols, but the rest of his attendants were in a very pitiful condition. they dug some wells on shore, and traded for goats, fruits, and wine, which last was none of the best. the country near the coast is very indifferent, but there are some fine valleys in the interior, pretty well inhabited, and abounding in all the necessaries of life. the principal town of this island is in a valley, fourteen miles from the bay in which the revenge came to anchor, and contains about families, the inhabitants being of a swarthy complexion. the country on the sea is rocky and barren, but in the interior there are several vallies, having plenty of grass, and in which vines are cultivated. the wine is of a pale colour, and tastes somewhat like madeira, but is rather thick. from thence they went to mayo, another of the cape de verd islands, forty miles e.s.e. from st nicholas, and anchored on its north side. they wished to have procured some beef and goats at this island, but were not permitted to land, because one captain bond of bristol had not long before, under the same pretence, carried away some of the principal inhabitants. this island is small, and its shores are beset with shoals, yet it has a considerable trade in salt and cattle. in may, june, july, and august, a species of sea-tortoises lay their eggs here, but are not nearly so good as those of the west indies. the inhabitants cultivate some potatoes, plantains, and corn, but live very poorly, like all the others in the cape de verd islands. after continuing here five or six days, they resolved to go to the island of st jago, in hopes of meeting some ship in the road, intending to cut her cable and run away with her. they accordingly stood for the east part of that island, where they saw from the top-mast head, over a point of land, a ship at anchor in the road, which seemed fit for their purpose: but, by the time they had got near her, her company clapped a spring upon her cable, struck her ports, and run out her lower tier of guns, on which cooke bore away as fast as he could. this was a narrow escape, as they afterwards learnt that this ship was a dutch east indiaman of guns and men. this is by far the best of the cape de verd islands, four or five leagues west from mayo; and, though mountainous, is the best peopled, having a very good harbour on its east side, much frequented by ships bound from europe for the east indies and the coast of guinea, as also by portuguese ships bound to brazil, which come here to provide themselves with beef, pork, goats, fowls, eggs, plantains, and cocoa-nuts, in exchange for shirts, drawers, handkerchiefs, hats, waistcoats, breeches, and all sorts of linen, which are in great request among the natives, who are much addicted to theft. there is here a fort on the top of a hill, which commands the harbour. this island has two towns of some size, and produces the same sort of wine with st nicholas. there are two other islands, fogo and brava, both small, and to the west of st jago. fogo is remarkable, as being an entire burning mountain, from the top of which issues a fire which may be seen a great way off at sea in the night. this island has a few inhabitants, who live on the sea-coast at the foot of the mountain, and subsist on goats, fowls, plantains, and cocoa-nuts. the other islands of this group are st antonio, st lucia, st vincent, and bona vista. they sailed thence for the coast of guinea, and, being near cape sierra leona, they fell in with a new-built ship of forty guns, well furnished with water, all kinds of provisions, and brandy, which they boarded and carried away.[ ] [footnote : they appear to have named this ship the revenge, and to have destroyed their original vessel.--e.] from thence they went to sherbro river, also on the coast of guinea, where they trimmed all their empty casks and filled them with water, not intending to stop any where again for water till their arrival at juan fernandez in the south sea. there was at this time an english factory in the sherbro river, having a considerable trade in _cam-wood_, which is used in dying red; but the adventurers do not appear to have had any intercourse with their countrymen at this place. they were well received, however, by the negro inhabitants of a considerable village on the sea-shore, near the mouth of this river, who entertained cowley and his companions with palm-wine, in a large hut in the middle of the town, all the rest of the habitations being small low huts. these negroes also brought off considerable supplies to the ship, of rice, fowls, honey, and sugar canes, which they sold to the buccaneers for goods found in the vessel they had seized at sierra leona. going from thence in the month of december, along the coast of guinea, to the latitude of ° s. they crossed the atlantic to the opposite coast of brazil, where they came to soundings on a sandy bottom at eighty fathoms deep. sailing down the coast of brazil, when in lat. ° s. they observed the sea to be as red as blood, occasioned by a prodigious shoal of red shrimps, which lay upon the water in great patches for many leagues together. they likewise saw vast numbers of seals, and a great many whales. holding on their course to lat. ° s. they discovered an island not known before, which cowley named _pepy's island_,[ ] in honour of samuel pepys, secretary to the duke of york when lord high admiral of england, a great patron of seamen. this island has a very good harbour, in which ships might ride at anchor, and is a very commodious place for procuring both wood and water. it abounded in sea-fowl, and the shore, being either rocks or sand, promised fair for fish. [footnote : an island in the southern atlantic, in lat. ° ' s. called _isle grande_, is supposed to be the discovery of cowley. according to dalrymple, it is in long. ° ' w. while the map published along with cook's voyages places it in long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] in january they bore away for the straits of magellan, and on the th of that month fell in with the _sebaldine_ or falkland islands, in lat. ° ' s. then steering s.w. by w. to the lat. of ° s. they made the terra del fuego. finding great ripplings near the straits of le maire, they resolved to go round the east end of states land, as had been done by captain sharp in , who first discovered it to be an island, naming it _albemarle_ island. a prodigious storm came on upon the th february, which lasted between a fortnight and three weeks, and drove them into lat. ° ' s. this storm was attended by such torrents of rain, that they saved twenty-three barrels of water, besides dressing their victuals all that time in rain water.[ ] the weather also was so excessively cold, that they could bear to drink three quarts of burnt brandy a man in twenty-four hours, without being intoxicated. [footnote : it was discovered by the great navigator captain cook, who at one time penetrated to lat. ° ' s. that the solid ice found at sea in high southern latitudes affords perfectly fresh water, when the first meltings are thrown away.--e.] when the storm abated, they steered n.e. being then considerably to the west of cape horn, and got again into warm weather. in lat. ° s. they fell in with an english ship, the nicholas of london, of guns, commanded by captain john eaton, with whom they joined company. they sailed together to the island of juan fernandez, where they arrived on the d march, and anchored in a bay at the south end of the island in twenty-five fathoms. captain watling, who succeeded captain sharp, was there in , and named it _queen catharine's_ island. at his departure, he accidentally left a moskito indian, who still remained, having a gun, a knife, a small flask of powder, and some shot. in this desolate condition, he found it equally hard to provide for his subsistence, and to conceal himself from the spaniards, who had notice of his being left there, and came several times to take him. he had chosen a pleasant valley for his residence, about half a mile from the coast, where he had erected a very convenient hut, well lined with seal-skins, and had a bed of the same, raised about two feet above the ground. by the help of a flint, he had converted his knife into a saw, with which he had cut the barrel of his gun to pieces, which he fashioned into harpoons, lances, fishing-hooks, and a long knife, by heating them in a fire. all this cost him much labour, but enabled him to live in sufficient comfort. on seeing the ships at sea, he guessed them to be english, and immediately dressed two goats, and a large quantity of cabbage, to entertain them on landing. he was also much pleased, when they landed on the island, to see two of his old acquaintances, captains cooke and dampier, who had belonged to the ship by which he was left on the island. the island of juan fernandez is in lat. ° ' s. [ ° '] about english miles from the coast of chili. the whole island is a pleasant mixture of hills and vallies, the sides of the hills partly covered with wood, and partly savannas, or places naturally clear of wood, bearing fine grass. among the woods are what are called cabbage-trees, but not so large as in other parts of the world. the goats which feed on the west end of the island are much fatter and better than those at the east end, though the latter has better and greater plenty of grass, with abundance of excellent water in the vallies, while the west end is a dry plain, the grass scanty and parched, and has hardly any wood or fresh water. though fertile, this island has no inhabitants, who might live here in plenty, as the plain is able to maintain a great number of cattle, and the sea affords vast quantities of seals, sea-lions, snappers, and rock-fish. the sea-lions are not much unlike seals, but much larger, being twelve or fourteen feet long, and as thick as a large ox. they have no hair, and are of a dun colour, with large eyes, their teeth being three inches long. one of these animals will yield a considerable quantity of oil, which is sweet and answers well for frying. they feed on fish, yet their flesh is tolerably good. the snapper is a fish having a large head, mouth, and gills, the back red, the belly ash-coloured, and its general appearance resembling a roach, but much larger, its scales being as broad as a shilling. the rock-fish, called _baccalao_ by the spaniards, because resembling the cod, is rounder than the former, and of a dark-brown colour, with small scales, and is very good food, being found in vast abundance on the coasts of peru and chili. this island has only two bays fit for anchorage, with a rivulet of fresh water in each, and both at the east end, and so conveniently situated that they might easily be fortified, and defended by a slender force against a powerful army, being inaccessible from the west, by reason of the high mountains. five englishmen, left by captain davies, secured themselves here against a great number of spaniards. after remaining fourteen days at this island, they left it on the th april, , steering n.n.e. till off the bay of arica, whence they sailed to cape blanco, in hopes of meeting the spanish plate fleet from panama; but if they had gone into the bay of arica, they must have taken a spanish ship which lay there, having tons of silver on board. in lat. ° s. on the d may, they were forced to capture a ship laden with timber, much against their inclination, lest they should be known through her means to be on the coast. they then sailed to the southern island of _lobos_, in lat. ° s. about forty-three english miles from the coast of peru, where they landed their sick for refreshment, heeled their ships, and scraped their bottoms, to render them fitter for action. this island is named _lobos del mar_, to distinguish it from another which is nearer the continent, and called therefore _lobos de la tierra. lobos del mar_ is properly a double island, each a mile in circuit, separated by a small channel which will not admit ships of burden. a little way from shore, on the north side, there are several scattered rocks in the sea, and at the west end of the eastermost isle is a small sandy creek, in which ships are secure from the winds, all the rest of the shore being rocky cliffs. the whole of both islands is rocky and sandy, having neither wood, water, nor land animals; but it has many fowls, such as boobies, and above all penguins, about the size of a duck, and with similar feet; but their bills are pointed, their wings are mere stumps, which serve them as fins when in the water, and their bodies are covered with down instead of feathers. as they feed on fish, they are but indifferent eating, but their eggs are very good. penguins are found all over the south sea, and at the cape of good hope. the road for ships is between the before-mentioned rock and the eastmost island. they were now very eager to make some capture, as their provisions, especially water, were very scanty, so that the subsistence of their prisoners, as well as themselves, gave them much anxiety. by information of their prisoners, they were also convinced that their being in these seas was known to the spaniards, who consequently would keep all their richest ships in port. after much consultation, therefore, it was resolved to make an attempt on truxillo, in lat. ° ' s. a populous city about six miles from the port of _guanehagno_, though the landing-place was of difficult access, as at that place there was a strong probability of making a considerable booty. they sailed therefore with this design on the th may, their whole number of men fit for duty being one hundred and eight. soon after weighing anchor, three ships were descried under sail, which they chased and captured, being laden with flour from guanehagno to panama. in one of them was found a letter from the viceroy of peru to the president of panama, intimating that there were enemies on the coast, and that he had sent these three ships to supply their wants. it was also learnt from the prisoners, that the spaniards were erecting a fort near their harbour of guanehagno, in consequence of which the design on traxillo was abandoned. besides a large loading of flour, the three captured ships had a good quantity of fruits and sweetmeats, which made them agreeable prizes to the english, who were now very short of provisions; but they had landed no less than , dollars, on hearing that there were enemies in these seas. it was now resolved to carry their prizes to some secure place, where the best part of the provisions they had now procured might be laid up in safety, for which purpose they steered for the _gallapagos_ or _enchanted islands_,[ ] which they got sight of on the st may, and anchored at night on the east side of one of the easternmost of these islands, a mile from shore, in sixteen fathoms, on clear white hard sand. to this cowley gave the name of _king charles's island_. he likewise named more of them, as the duke of norfolk's island immediately under the line, dessington's, eares, bindley's, earl of abington's, king james's, duke of albemarles, and others. they afterwards anchored in a very good bay being named york bay. here they found abundance of excellent provisions, particularly guanoes and sea and land tortoises, some of the latter weighing two hundred pounds, which is much beyond their usual weight. there were also great numbers of birds, especially turtle-doves, with plenty of wood and excellent water; but none of either of these was in any of the other islands.[ ] [footnote : these islands, so named by the spaniards from being the resort of tortoises, are on both sides of the line, from about the lat. of ° n. to ° ' s,. and from about ° ' to ° ' both w. from greenwich.--e.] [footnote : cowley mentions having found here a [illegible] thing of its nature of quantity.--e.] these gallapagos are a considerable number of large islands, situated under and on both sides of the line, and destitute of inhabitants. the spaniards, who first discovered them, describe them as extending from the equator n.w. as high as ° n. the adventurers in this voyage saw fourteen or fifteen, some of which were seven or eight leagues in length, and three or four leagues broad, pretty high yet flat. four or five of the most easterly were barren and rocky, without either trees, herbs, or grass, except very near the shore. they produced also a sort of shrub, called dildo-tree, about the bigness of a man's leg, and ten or twelve feet high, without either fruit or leaves, but covered with prickles from top to bottom. the only water in these barren isles, was in ponds and holes in the rocks. some of the isles are low and more fertile, producing some of the trees that are known in europe. a few of the westermost isles are larger than the rest, being nine or ten leagues long, and six or seven broad, producing many trees, especially mammee figs, and they have also some pretty large fresh-water streams, and many rivulets. the air is continually refreshed, by the sea-breeze by day and the land-winds at night, so that they are not troubled with such excessive heats, neither are they so unwholesome as most places so near the equator. during the rainy season, in november, december, and january, they are infested with violent tempests of thunder and lightning; but before and after these months have only refreshing showers, and in their summer, which is in may, june, july, and august, they are without any rains. they anchored near several of these islands, and frequently found sea tortoises basking in the sun at noon. on a former occasion, captain davies came to anchor on the west side of these islands, where he and his men subsisted on land-tortoises for three months, and saved from them sixty jars of oil. he also found several good channels on that side, with anchorage between the isles, and several rivulets of fresh water, with plenty of trees for fuel. the sea also round these islands is well stored with good fish of a large size, and abounds in sharks. these islands are better stored with guanoes and land-tortoises than any other part of the world. the guanoes are very tame, of extraordinary size, and very fat. the land-tortoises are likewise very fat, and so numerous that several hundred men might subsist upon them for a considerable time. they are as pleasant food as a pullet, and so large that some of them weighed and even pounds, being two feet to two feet and a half across the belly; whereas in other places they are seldom met with above pounds weight. there are several kinds of land-tortoises in the west indies, one of which, called _hackatee_ by the spaniards, keeps mostly in fresh-water ponds, having long necks, small legs, and flat feet, and is usually between ten and fifteen pounds weight. a second, and much smaller kind, which they call _tenopen_,[ ] is somewhat rounder, but not unlike in other respects, except that their back shells are naturally covered with curious carved work. the tortoises in the gallapagos isles resembles the _hackatee_, having long necks and small heads, but are much larger. [footnote : this word in the text is probably a misprint for _terrapin_, a trivial name for a species of land or fresh-water tortoise, found also in the warmer parts of north america--e.] in these islands there are also some green snakes, and great numbers of remarkably tame turtle-doves, very fat, and excellent eating. there are large channels between some of these islands, capable of receiving ships of moderate burden. on the shoals there grows great abundance of sea-weed, called _turtle-grass_, owing to which these channels abound in _green turtles_ or sea-tortoises. there are several kinds of turtles or sea-tortoises, as the _trunk, loggerhead, hawksbill_, and _green_ turtles. the first is larger than the rest, and has a rounder and higher back shell, but is neither so wholesome nor so well tasted; and the same may be said of the loggerhead, which feeds on moss from the rocks, and has its name from its large head. the hawksbill, so named from having a long small mouth, like the beak of a hawk, is the smallest species, and is that which produces the so-much-admired tortoise-shell, of which cabinets, boxes, combs, and other things are made in europe, and of this shell each has from three to four pounds, though some have less. the flesh of this kind is but indifferent, yet better than that of the loggerheads; though these, which are taken between the _sambellos_ and _portobello_, make those who eat the flesh purge and vomit excessively, and the same is observed of some other fish in the west indies. the laying time of the sea-tortoises is about may, june, and july, a little sooner or later, and they lay three times each season, eighty or ninety eggs each time, which are round and as large as an hen's egg, but covered only with a thin white skin, having no shell. when a tortoise goes on shore to lay, she is usually an hour before she returns, as she always chuses her place above high-water mark, where she makes a large hole with her fins in the sand, in which she lays her eggs, and then covers them two feet deep with the sand she had raked out. sometimes they go on shore the day before, to take a look of the place, and are sure to return to the same spot next day. people take the tortoises on this occasion, while on shore in the night, turning them over on their backs, above high-water mark, and then return to fetch them off next morning; but a large green tortoise will give work enough to two stout men to turn her over. the green tortoise gets its name from the colour of the shell, having a small round head, and weighs from to pounds. its flesh is accounted the best of any, but there are none of this kind in the south sea. the sea-tortoises found at the gallapagos being a bastard kind of green tortoises, having thicker shells than those of the west indies, and their flesh not so good. they are also much larger, being frequently two or three feet thick, and their bellies five feet broad. they remained twelve or fourteen days at the gallapagos, during which time captain cooke lived on shore in a very poor state of health. they also landed bags of flour, with a large quantity of sweetmeats and other provisions, on york island, which they might have recourse to on any emergency. from one of their prisoners, an indian of _realejo_, they had a flattering account of the riches of that place, which he alleged might be easily taken, and for which enterprise he offered to serve them as a guide. setting sail therefore from the gallapagos on the th june, they shaped their course in lat ° ' n. with the intention of touching at the _island of cocos_, [in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich.] this island is seven or eight leagues in circuit, but uninhabited, and produces a pleasant herb near the sea coast, called _geamadael_ by the spaniards. it is so environed with steep rocks as to be inaccessible, except on the n.e. where ships may safely ride in a small bay. missing this island, they continued their course towards the continent of america, and reached cape _blanco_, or _trespuntas_, on the coast of mexico, in lat. ° ' n. in the beginning of july. this cape gets the name of _blanco_, or the white cape, from two high steep taper white rocks, like high towers, about half a mile distant. the cape itself is about the same height with beachy-head, on the coast of sussex, being a full broad point jutting out to sea, and terminated with steep rocks, while both sides have easy descents to the sea from the flat top, which is covered with tall trees, and affords a pleasant prospect. on the n.w. side of the cape the land runs in to the n.e. for four leagues, making a small bay, called _caldera bay_, at the entrance to which, at the n.w. side of the cape, a rivulet of fresh water discharges itself into the sea through very rich low lands abounding in lofty trees. this rich wooded vale extends a mile n.e. beyond the rivulet, when a savanna begins, running several leagues into the country, here and there beautifully interspersed with groves of trees, and covered with excellent long grass. deeper into the bay, the low lands are cloathed with mangroves; but farther into the country the land is higher, partly covered with woods, and partly consisting of hilly savannas, not so good as the former, and here the woods consist of short small trees. from the bottom of this bay one may travel to the lake of nicaragua over hilly savannas, a distance of fourteen, or fifteen leagues.[ ] [footnote : the bay of caldera in the text is evidently the gulf of nicoya, from the bottom of which the lake of nicaragua is distant about fifty english miles due north. the latitude of cape blanco in the text, ° ' n. is considerably erroneous, its true latitude being only ° ' n.] captain cooke had been very ill ever since their departure from juan fernandez, and died as soon as they came within two or three leagues of cape blanco, which indeed is a frequent incident at sea, as people who have been long ill often die on coming in sight of land. coming to anchor a few hours after a league within the cape, near the mouth of the before-mentioned rivulet, in fathoms on clear hard sand, his body was immediately carried on shore for interment, under a guard of twelve armed men. while the people were digging his grave, they were joined by three spanish indians, who asked many questions, and were at length seized, though one of them afterwards escaped. the other two were carried aboard, and confessed that they were sent as spies from nicoya, a small mulatto town twelve or fourteen leagues from the cape, and seated on the banks of a river of the same name,[ ] being a convenient place for building and refitting ships. the president of panama had sent intelligence to this place of the english being in these seas, in consequence of which the inhabitants, who mostly subsist by cultivating corn, and by slaughtering great numbers of cattle which feed on their extensive savannas, had sent their ox hides to the north sea by way of the lake of nicaragua, as also a certain red wood, called in jamaica _blood wood_, or nicaragua wood, which is used in dying. these commodities are exchanged for linen and woollen manufactures, and other european goods. [footnote : there is no river at niceya, but it is seated on a bay or harbour within the gulf of the same name.--e.] learning from their prisoners that there was a large cattle pen at no great distance, where cows and bulls could be had in abundance, and being very desirous of having some fresh beef which had long been very rare among them, twenty-four of the english went ashore in two boats, under the guidance of one of the indians, and landed about a league from the ships, hauling their boats upon the dry sand. their guide conducted them to the pen, in a large savanna two miles from the boats, where they found abundance of bulls and cows feeding. some of the english were for killing three or four immediately, but the rest insisted to wait till morning, and then to kill as many as they needed. on this difference of opinion, dampier and eleven more thought proper to return aboard that night, expecting to be followed by the rest next day. hearing nothing of them next day at four p.m. ten men were sent in a canoe to look for them; when they found their comrades on a small rock half a mile from the shore, up to their middles in water, having fled there to escape from forty or fifty spaniards, well armed with guns and lances, who had burnt their boat. they had taken shelter on this rock at low water, and must have perished in an hour, as it was then flowing tide, if they had not been relieved by the canoe, which brought them safe on board. on the th july, edward davis, quarter-master of the revenge, was elected captain, in the room of captain cooke. they sailed next day from cape blanco towards realejo, with a moderate breeze at n. which brought them in three days over against that port, in lat. ° ' n. this place is easily discovered from sea, by means of a high-peaked burning mountain about ten miles inland, called by the spaniards _volcano vejo_, or the old volcano, which is so high that it may be seen twenty leagues out at sea, besides which there is no other similar mountain on all that coast. to make this harbour, the mountain must bear n.e. and keeping this coarse will bring a ship directly into the harbour, the entrance of which may be seen at three leagues off. this harbour is inclosed by a low isle, a mile in length, a quarter of a mile broad, and a mile and a half from the main land. it has a channel or entrance at each end of the island, that on the east, being narrow and having a strong tide, is seldom used, but that on the west is much larger and more commodious. in taking this entry, however, ships must beware of a certain sandy shoal on the n.w. point of the isle, and when past this must keep close to the isle, as a sand-bank runs half way over from the continental shore. this port is able to contain ships. about two leagues from the port, the town of realejo stands in a fenny country, full of red mangrove trees, between two arms of the sea, the westermost of which reaches up to the town, and the eastermost comes near it, but no shipping can get so far up.[ ] on entering the bay in their canoes, they found the country apprized of their approach, and fully prepared for their reception, wherefore the enterprise against realejo was laid aside. pursuant to a consultation between the two commanders, eaton and davis, they sailed on the th july for the gulf of amapalla or fonseca. [footnote : the account in the text appears applicable to what is now called _el viejo_, or the old town, nearly miles from the port, but modern realejo stands almost close to the entrance of the bay or harbour.--e.] this is a large gulf or branch of the sea, running eight or ten leagues into the country, and nearly of the same breadth. the s.e. extreme point is called cape _casurina_, or _casiquina_, in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. and the n.w. point is cape candadillo, in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. within this bay are several islands, the principal of these being named _mangeru_ and _amapaila_. mangera is a high round island, two leagues in circuit, inclosed on all sides by rocks, except on its n.e. side, where there is a small sandy creek. the soil is black and shallow, full of stones, and produces very lofty trees. it has a small town or village in the middle inhabited by indians, and a handsome spanish church. the inhabitants cultivate a small quantity of maize and plantains, having also a few cocks and hens, but no beasts except dogs and cats. from the creek to the town there is a steep rocky path. _amapalla_ resembles the other isle in soil, but is much larger, and has two towns about two miles asunder, one on its northern end, and the other on the east. the latter is on a plain on the summit of a hill, and has a handsome church. the other town is smaller, but has also a fine church. in most of the indian towns under the spanish dominion, the images of the saints in their churches are represented of the indian complexion, and dressed like indians; while in the towns inhabited by spaniards, the images have the european complexion and dress. there are many other islands in the bay, but uninhabited. captain davis went into the gulf with two canoes to procure some prisoners for intelligence, and coming to mangera, the inhabitants all ran away into the woods, so that only the priest and two boys were taken. captain davis went thence to the isle of amapalla, where the inhabitants were prevented from retiring into the woods by the secretary, who was an enemy to the spaniards, and persuaded them the english were friends; but by the misconduct of one of the buccaneers, all the indians run away, on which davis made his men fire at them, and the secretary was slain. after this the casique of the island was reconciled to the english, and afterwards guided them wherever they had occasion to go, especially to places on the continent where they could procure beef. a company of english and french buccaneers landed some time afterwards on this island, whence they went over to the continent, and marched by land to the _cape river_, otherwise called _yare_, or _vanquez_ river, which falls into the gulf of mexico, near _cape gracias a dios_, on the mosquito shore. on reaching that river near its source, they constructed bark canoes, in which they descended the stream into the gulf of mexico. they were not, however, the first discoverers of this passage, as about thirty years before, some english went up that same river to near its source, from the gulf of mexico, and marched thence inland to a town called new segovia, near the head of bluefield's river. while in this bay of amapalla, some difference arose between the two captains, davis who had succeeded to cooke in command of the revenge, and eaton of the nicholas, when they resolved to separate: but they first deemed it proper to careen their ships, for which this place afforded every convenience, and to take in a supply of fresh water. both ships being in condition for sea, captain eaton took sacks of flour on board his ship, and agreed with captain cowley to take the charge of the nicholas as master. from this period therefore, which was in the end of september, the voyages of cowley and dampier cease to be the same, and require to be separately narrated. section ii. _continuation of the narrative of cowley, from leaving the revenge, to his return to england_. on leaving the gulf of amapalla, the nicholas steered for cape francisco, in lat. ° ' n. near which they encountered dreadful storms, attended by prodigious thunder and lightning. from thence they proceeded to the latitude of ° s. but found the country every where alarmed. they went next to payta, in lat. ° ' s. where they took two ships at anchor, which they set on fire, because the spaniards refused to ransom them. leaving the coast, they went to the island of _gorgona_, in lat. ° ' n. about four leagues from the main, which the privateers usually called _sharp's island_. this is about two leagues long by one league broad, having a good harbour on its west side, and affording plenty of wood and water. it is a common saying in spanish south america, that it rains often in chili, seldom in peru, and always at gorgona, where they allege there never was a day fair to an end. though this be not strictly true, it is certain that this island has rain more or less at all seasons, on which account, perhaps, it has always remained uninhabited. they sailed from gorgona w.n.w. till in lat. ° n. when they steered w. by n. to lat. ° n. till they considered themselves beyond danger from the rocks of _st bartholomew_; after which they returned into the lat. of ° n. in which parallel they continued their voyage for the east indies. they had a regular trade-wind, and a reasonably quick passage across the pacific ocean, except that their men were mostly ill of the scurvy; and on the th of march, , being in lat. ° ' n. they came in sight of the island of guam. by captain cowley's calculation, this run across the pacific ocean extended to miles, from the island of gorgona to guam.[ ] they came next day to anchor in a bay on the west side of the island, and sent their boat on shore with a flag of truce. the inhabitants of a village at that place set fire to their houses, and ran away into the interior, on which the boat's crew cut down some cocoa trees to gather the fruit, and on going again on board were threatened by a party of the natives, who sallied out from some bushes on purpose to attack them. a friendly intercourse was however established between the english and the natives, and trade took place with them till the th, when the natives attacked the english suddenly, but were beat off with heavy loss, while none of the english were hurt. [footnote : gorgona is in long. ° ' guam in ° ', both w. from greenwich. the difference of longitude is ° ', which gives statute miles, or marine leagues, so that the computation in the text is considerably too short.--e.] on the th the spanish governor of the island came to a point of land not far from the ship, whence he sent his boat on board with three copies of the same letter, in spanish, french, and dutch, desiring to know who they were, whence they came, and whither they were bound. captain eaton answered in french, saying that they had been fitted out by some gentlemen in france to make discoveries, and were come in quest of provisions. in reply the governor invited captain eaton on shore, who landed with a guard of twenty men doubly armed, and was politely received. on the th the governor sent ten hogs on board, together with a prodigious quantity of potatoes, plantains, oranges, papaws, and red pepper, in return for which captain eaton sent a diamond ring to the governor worth twenty pounds, and gave swords to several spanish gentlemen who came off with the provisions. next day the governor sent to procure some powder, of which he was in want, as the natives were in rebellion, and captain eaton gave him two barrels, for which to the value of dollars were offered in gold and silver, but eaton refused to accept the money, in consequence of which the governor sent him a diamond ring, worth fifty pounds. every day after this the governor sent them some kind of provisions, and about the end of march, when about to sail, the governor sent them thirty hogs for sea store, with a large supply of rice and potatoes. on one occasion the indians attacked a party of the english, who were on shore to draw the sein, but were beaten off with much loss; yet they afterwards endeavoured to prevail on captain eaton to join them in driving out the spaniards, which he positively refused. on the st april, leaving the bay in which they had hitherto remained, the nicholas anchored before the spanish fort; and after several civilities on both sides, set sail in the afternoon of the d april with a fair wind. this island of guam is about fourteen leagues long by six broad, and contains several very pleasant vallies, interspersed with fine fertile meadows, watered by many rivulets from the hills. the soil in these vallies is black and very rich, producing plenty of cocoas, potatoes, yams, papaws, plantains, _monanoes_, sour-sops, oranges, and lemons, together with some honey. the climate is naturally very hot, yet is wholesome, as constantly refreshed by the trade-wind. the indian natives are large made, well proportioned, active and vigorous, some being seven feet and a half high, and go mostly naked, both men and women. they never bury their dead, but lay them in the sun to putrefy. their only arms are slings and lances, the heads of these being made of human bones; and on the decease of any one his bones make eight lances, four from his legs and thighs, and as many from his arms. these lance heads are formed like a scoop, and jagged at the edges like a saw or eel-spear; so that a person wounded by them dies, if not cured in seven days. the great annual ship between manilla and acapulco touches here for refreshments, and the spaniards said there were sometimes eight ships in one year at this place from the east indies. they said also, that they had built a ship here, in , of tons, to trade with manilla, and pretended to have a garrison here of men, most of the indians being in rebellion. the nicholas sailed from guam w. by s. and on computing that they were leagues from that island, they changed to due w. the d, when they reckoned themselves leagues west of guam, they met with a very strong current, resembling the race of portland, and fell in with a cluster of islands in lat. ° ' n. to the north of luçonia, [the _bashee islands_.] they sent their boat ashore on the northermost of these islands, in order to get some fish, and to examine the island, on which they found vast quantities of nutmegs growing, but saw no people, and as night was drawing on they did not venture to go any distance from the shore. to this island they gave the name of _nutmeg island_, and called the bay in which they anchored _english bay_. they observed many rocks, shoals, and foul ground near the shore, and saw a great many goats on the island, but brought off very few. on the th of april they were off cape bojadore, the n.w. point of luçonia, and came soon after to cipe _mindato_, where they met the s.w. monsoon, on which they bore away for canton in china, where they arrived in safety and refitted their ship. they had here an opportunity of making themselves as rich as they could desire, but would not embrace it; as there came into the port thirteen sail of tartar vessels, laden with chinese plunder, consisting of the richest productions of the east. the men, however, would have nothing to do with any thing but gold and silver, and captain eaton could not prevail upon them to fight for silks, as they alleged that would degrade them into pedlars. the tartars therefore quietly pursued their affairs at canton, unconscious of their danger. having repaired the ship, captain easton sailed for manilla, intending to wait for a tartar ship of which they had information, bound from that port, and half laden with silver. they even got sight of her, and chased her a whole day to no purpose, as she was quite clean, and the nicholas was as foul as could well be. they then stood for a small island, to the north of luçonia, to wait for a fair wind to carry them to bantam. instead of one island, they found several, where they procured refreshments.[ ] learning from an indian that in one of these islands there were plenty of beeves, they sent a boat thither with thirty men, who took what they wanted by force, though the island was well inhabited. [footnote : the indications in the text are too vague to point out the particular islands at which the nicholas refreshed. immediately north from luçonia are the babuvanes isles, in lat ° ', and still farther, the bashee islands, in ° ', both n.] leaving these islands about the middle of september, , they were for three days in great danger on the banks of _peragoa_, in lat. ° n. after which they came to a convenient bay in an island not far from the northern coast of borneo, where they set up a tent on shore and landed every thing from the ship, fortifying themselves with ten small guns, in case of being attacked by the natives, and hauled their ship on shore to clean her bottom. at first the natives of the island avoided all intercourse with the english; but one day the boat of the nicholas came up with a canoe in which was the queen of the country with her retinue, who all leaped into the sea to get away from the english. they took up these people with much difficulty, and entertained them with so much kindness that they became good friends during two months which they continued afterwards at this island. at this time the spaniards were at peace with the sovereign of borneo, and carried on an advantageous trade there from manilla; of which circumstance captain eaton and his people got intimation, and passed themselves for spaniards during their residence. this great island is plentifully stored with provisions of all kinds, and many rich commodities, as diamonds, pepper, camphor, &c. and several kinds of fine woods, as specklewood and ebony. cloves also were there to be had at a reasonable price, being brought there from the neighbouring islands by stealth. the animals of borneo, as reported by cowley, are elephants, tigers, panthers, leopards, antelopes, and wild swine. the king of borneo being in league with the spanish governor of the philippines, the english passed themselves here as spaniards, and were amply supplied by the natives during their stay with fish, oranges, lemons, mangoes, plantains, and pine-apples. the nicholas sailed from this place in december, , proceeding to a chain of islands in lat. ° n. called the _naturah_ islands,[ ] whence they went to timor, where the crew became exceedingly mutinous; on which captain cowley and others resolved to quit the nicholas, in order to endeavour to get a passage home from batavia. accordingly, cowley and one mr hill, with eighteen more of the men, purchased a large boat, in which they meant to have gone to batavia, but, owing to contrary winds, were obliged to put in at cheribon, another factory belonging to the dutch in java, where they found they had lost a day in their reckoning during their voyage by the west. they here learnt the death of charles ii. and that the dutch had driven the english from bantam, which was then the second place of trade we possessed in india. the dutch were forming other schemes to the prejudice of our trade, wherefore cowley, with hill and another of the englishmen, resolved to make all the haste they could to batavia, to avoid being involved in the subsisting disputes. they were kindly received by the governor of batavia, who promised them a passage to holland. [footnote : the natuna islands, in long. ° e. from greenwich.--e.] cowley and his remaining companions embarked at batavia in a dutch ship in march, . they arrived in table bay at the cape of good hope on the st june, where they landed next day, and of which settlement, as it then existed in , cowley gives the following account:-- "cape town does not contain above an hundred houses, which are all built low, because exposed to violent gales of wind in the months of december, january, and february. the castle is very strong, having about eighty large cannon for its defence. there is also a very spacious garden, maintained by the dutch east india company, planted with all kinds of fruit-trees, and many excellent herbs, and laid out in numerous pleasant walks. this garden is near a mile in length and a furlong wide, being the greatest rarity at the cape, and far exceeding the public garden at batavia. this country had abundance of very good sheep, but cattle and fowls are rather scarce. we walked out of town to a village inhabited by the _hodmandods_, or hottentots. their houses are round, having the fire-places in the middle, almost like the huts of the wild irish, and the people lay upon the ashes, having nothing under them but sheep-skins. the men seemed all to be _monorchides_, and the whole of these people were so nasty that we could hardly endure the stench of their bodies and habitations. their women are singularly conformed, having a natural skin apron, and are all so ignorant and brutish that they do not hesitate to prostitute themselves publicly for the smallest imaginable recompense, of which i was an eye witness. their apparel is a sheep-skin flung over their shoulders, with a leather cap on their heads, as full of grease as it can hold. their legs are wound about, from the ankle to the knees, with the guts of beasts well greased. "these people, called _hodmandods_ by the dutch, are born white, but they make themselves black by smearing their bodies all over with soot and grease, so that by frequent repetition they become as black as negroes. their children, when young, are of a comely form, but their noses are like those of the negroes. when they marry, the woman cuts off one joint of her finger; and, if her husband die and she remarry again, she cuts off another joint, and so on however often she may marry. "they are a most filthy race, and will feed upon any thing, however foul. when the hollanders kill a beast, these people get the guts, and having squeezed out the excrements, without washing or scraping, they lay them upon the coals, and eat them before they are well heated through. if even a slave of the hollanders wish to have one of their women, he has only to give her husband a piece of tobacco. yet will they beat their wives if unfaithful with one of their own nation, though they care not how they act with the men of other nations. they are worshipers of the moon, and thousands of them may be seen dancing and singing by the sea-side, when they expect to see that luminary; but if it happen to be dark weather, so that the moon does not appear, they say their god is angry with them. while we were at the cape, one of the _hodmandods_ drank himself dead in the fort, on which the others came and put oil and milk into his mouth, but finding he was dead, they began to prepare for his burial in the following manner:--having shaved or scraped his body, arms, and legs, with their knives, they dug a great hole, in which they placed him on his breech in a sitting posture, heaping stones about him to keep him upright. then came the women, making a most horrible noise round the hole which was afterwards filled up with earth." on the th june. , cowley sailed from the cape, the homeward-bound dutch fleet consisting of three ships, when at the same time other three sailed for bolivia. on the d of june they passed the line, when cowley computed that he had sailed quite round the globe, having formerly crossed the line nearly at the same place, when outward-bound from virginia in . on the th august they judged themselves to be within thirty leagues of the dangerous shoal called the _abrolhos_, laid down in lat. ° n. in the map: but cowley was very doubtful if any such shoal exist, having never met with any one who had fallen in with it, and he was assured by a pilot, who had made sixteen voyages to brazil, that there was no such sand. the th september, cowley saw land which he believed to be shetland. they were off the maes on the th september, and on the th cowley landed at helvoetsluys. he travelled by land to rotterdam, whence he sailed in the ann for england, and arrived safe in london on the th october, , after a tedious and troublesome voyage of three years and nearly two months. section iii. _sequel of the voyage, so far as dampier is concerned, after the separation of the nicholas from the revenge._[ ] this is usually denominated captain william dampier's _first_ voyage round the world, and is given at large by harris, but on the present occasion has been limited, in this section, to the narrative of dampier after the separation of captain cowley in the nicholas; the observations of dampier in the earlier part of the voyage, having been already interwoven in the first section of this chapter. [footnote : dampier's voyages, lond. , vol. i. and ii. harris, ii. .] this voyage is peculiarly valuable, by its minute and apparently accurate account of the harbours and anchorages on the western coast of south america, and has, therefore, been given here at considerable length, as it may become of singular utility to our trade, in case the navigation to the south sea may be thrown open, which is at present within the exclusive privileges of the east india company, yet entirely unused by that chartered body.--e. * * * * * captain eaton in the nicholas having separated from the revenge, left the gulf of amapalla on the d september, , as formerly mentioned, which place we also left next day, directing our course for the coast of peru. tornadoes, with thunder, lightning, and rain, are very frequent on these coasts from june to november, mostly from the s.e. of which we had our share. the wind afterwards veered to w. and so continued till we came in sight of cape st francisco, where we met with fair weather and the wind at s. cape st francisco, in lat. ° ' n. is a high full point of land, covered with lofty trees. in passing from the n. a low point may be easily mistaken for the cape, but soon after passing this point the cape is seen with three distinct points. the land in its neighbourhood is high, and the mountains appear black. the th september we came to anchor in sixteen fathoms near the island of _plata_, in lat. ° ' s. this island is about four miles long and a mile and half broad, being of some considerable height, and environed with rocky cliffs, except in one place at the east end, where the only fresh-water torrent of the isle falls down from the rocks into the sea. the top of the island is nearly flat, with a sandy soil, which produces three or four kinds of low small trees, not known in europe, and these trees are much overgrown with moss. among these trees the surface is covered with pretty good grass, especially in the beginning of the year, but there are no land animals to feed upon it, the great number of goats that used to be found here formerly being all destroyed. is has, however, a great number of the birds named boobies and man-of-war birds. some say that this island got the name _isola de plata_ from the spaniards, from the circumstance of sir francis drake having carried to this place their ship the cacafoga, richly laden with silver, which they name _plata_. the anchorage is on the east side, about the middle of the island, close to the shore, within two cables length of the sandy bay, in eighteen or twenty fathoms, fast ooze, and smooth water, the s.e. point of the island keeping off the force of the south wind which usually blows here. in this sandy bay there is good landing, and indeed it is the only place which leads into the island. a small shoal runs out about a quarter of a mile from the east point of the island, on which shoal there is a great rippling of the sea when the tide flows. the tide here has a strong current, setting to the south with the flood, and to the north when it ebbs. at this east point also there are three small high rocks, about a cable's length from the shore; and three much larger rocks at the n.e. point. all round the isle the water is very deep, except at the before-mentioned anchorage. near the shoal there are great numbers of small sea-tortoises, or turtle, formerly mentioned as found at the gallapagos. this island of _plata_ is four or five leagues w.s.w. from cape _san lorenzo_. after remaining one day at this isle, we continued our voyage to cape _santa helena_, in lat. ° ' s. this cape appears high and flat, resembling an island, covered on the top with thistles, and surrounded by low grounds, but without any trees. as it jets far out to sea, it forms a good bay on its north side, a mile within which is a wretched indian village on the shore, called also santa helena; but the ground in its neighbourhood, though low, is sandy and barren, producing neither trees, grass, corn, nor fruit, except excellent water-melons; and the inhabitants are forced to fetch their fresh water from the river _calanche_, four leagues distant, at the bottom of the bay. they live chiefly on fish, and are supplied with maize from other parts, in exchange for _algatrane_, which is a bituminous substance issuing from the earth near this village, about five paces above high-water mark. this substance, by means of long boiling, becomes hard like pitch, and is employed as such by the spaniards. to leeward of the point, directly opposite the village, there is good anchorage, but on the west side the water is very deep. some of our men were sent under night in canoes to take the village, in which they succeeded, and made some prisoners; but the natives set fire to a small bark in the road, alleging the positive orders of the viceroy. we returned from thence to the island of plata, where we anchored on the th september, and sent some of our men that evening to _manta_, a small indian village on the continent, seven or eight leagues from plata, and two or three leagues east from cape lorenzo. its buildings are mean and scattered, but standing on an easy ascent, it has a fine prospect towards the sea-side. having formerly been inhabited by the spaniards, it has a fine church, adorned with carved work; but as the ground in the neighbourhood is very dry and sandy, it produces neither corn nor roots, and only a few shrubs are to be found. the inhabitants are supplied with provisions by sea, this being the first place at which ships refresh, when bound from panama to lima and other parts of peru. they have an excellent spring of fresh water between the village and the sea. opposite to this village, and a mile and a half from the shore, there is a very dangerous rock, being always covered by the sea; but about a mile within this rock there is safe anchorage, in six, eight, and ten fathoms, on hard clear sand; and a mile west from this, a shoal runs a mile out to sea. behind the town, and directly to the south, a good way inland, there is a very high mountain rising up into the clouds, like a sugar-loaf; which serves as an excellent sea-mark, there being no other like it on all this coast. [ ] [footnote : the great chimborazo is probably here meant, about english miles inland from manta, and almost due east, instead of south, as in the test.--e] our men landed about day-break, a mile and a half from the village, but the inhabitants took the alarm, and got all away, except two old women, from whom we learnt that the viceroy, on receiving intelligence of enemies having come across the isthmus of darien into the south sea, had ordered all their ships to be set on fire, all the goats in the isle of plata to be destroyed, and that the inhabitants on the coast should keep no more provisions than were necessary for their present use. we returned to our ship at plata, where we remained for some time unresolved what course to pursue. on the d of october, the cygnet of london, captain swan, came to anchor in the same road. this was a richly-loaded ship, designed for trading on this coast, but being disappointed in his hopes of trade, his men had forced captain swan to take on board a company of buccaneers he fell in with at nicoya, being those we heard of at manta, who had come by land to the south sea under the command of captain peter harris, nephew to the captain harris who was slain before panama. as the cygnet was unfit for service, by reason of her cargo, captain swan sold most of his goods on credit, and threw the rest overboard, reserving only the fine commodities, and some iron for ballast. captains davis and swan now joined company; and harris was placed in command of a small bark. our bark, which had been sent to cruise three days before the arrival of the cygnet, now returned with a prize laden with timber, which they had taken in the gulf of guayaquil. the commander of this prize informed us, that it was reported at guayaquil, that the viceroy was fitting out ten frigates to chase us from these seas. this intelligence made us wish for captain eaton, and we resolved to send out a small bark towards lima, to invite him to rejoin us. we also fitted up another small bark for a fire-ship, and set sail for the island of _lobos_ on the th october. being about six leagues off payta on the d of november, we sent men in several canoes to attack that place. _payta_ is a small sea-port town belonging to the spaniards, in lat. ° ' s. built on a sandy rock near the sea-side, under a high hill. although not containing more than seventy-five or eighty low mean houses, like most of the other buildings along the coast of peru, it has two churches. the walls of these houses are chiefly built of a kind of bricks, made of earth and straw, only dried in the sun. these bricks are three feet long, two broad, and a foot and a half thick. in some places, instead of roofs, they only lay a few poles across the tops of the walls, covered with mats, though in other places they have regularly-constructed roofs. the cause of this mean kind of building is partly from the want of stones and timber, and partly because it never rains on this coast, so that they are only solicitious to keep out the sun; and these walls, notwithstanding the slight nature of their materials, continue good a long time, as they are never injured by rain. the timber used by the better sort of people has to be brought by sea from other places. the walls of the churches and of the best houses are neatly whitened, both within and without, and the beams, posts, and doors are all adorned with carved work. within they are ornamented with good pictures, and rich hangings of tapestry or painted calico, brought from spain. the houses of payta, however, were not of this description, though their two churches were large and handsome. close by the sea there was a small fort, armed only with muskets, to command the harbour, as also another fort on the top of a hill, which commanded both the harbour and lower fort. the inhabitants of payta are obliged to bring their fresh-water from colon, a town two leagues to the n.n.e. where a fresh-water river falls into the sea; and have also to procure fowls, hogs, plantains, maize, and other provisions from that and other places, owing to the barrenness of the soil in its own neighbourhood. the dry and barren tract of this western coast of america begins at cape blanco in the north, and reaches to coquimbo in ° s. in all of which vast extent of coast i never saw or heard of any rain falling, nor of any thing growing whatever either in the mountains or vallies, except in such places as are constantly watered, in consequence of being on the banks of rivers and streams. the inhabitants of colon are much given to fishing, for which purpose they venture out to sea in _bark-logs_.[ ] these are constructed of several round logs of wood, forming a raft, but different according to the uses they are intended for, or the customs of those that make them. those meant for fishing consist only of three or five logs of wood about eight feet long, the middle one longer than the rest, especially forewards, and the others gradually shorter, forming a kind of stem or prow to cut the waves. the logs are joined to each other's sides by wooden pegs and _withes_, or twisted branches of trees. such as are intended for carrying merchandise are made in the same manner and shape, but the raft consists of twenty or thirty great trunks of trees, thirty or forty feet long, joined together as before. on these another row of shorter trees are laid across, and fastened down by wooden pegs. from, this double raft or bottom they raise a raft of ten feet high, by means of upright posts, which support two layers of thick trees laid across each other, like our piles of wood, but not so close as in the bottom of the float; these being formed only at the ends and sides, the inner part being left hollow. in this hollow, at the height of four feet from the floor of the raft, they lay a deck or floor of small poles close together, serving as the floor or deck of another room; and above this, at the same height, they lay just such another sparred deck. the lower room serves for the hold, in which they stow ballast, and water casks or jars. the second room serves for the seamen and what belongs to them. above all the goods are stowed, as high as they deem fit, but seldom exceeding the height of ten feet. some space is left vacant behind for the steersman, and before for the kitchen, especially in long voyages, for in these strange vessels they will venture to make voyages of five or six hundred leagues. [footnote : i suspect this to be a mistaken translation of _barco-longo_, long barks, or rafts rather, as the subsequent description indicates.--e] in navigating these vessels, they use a very large rudder, with one mast in the middle of the machine, on which they have a large sail, like our west country barges on the river thames. as these machines can only sail before the wind, they are only fit for these seas, where the wind blows constantly one way, seldom varying above a point or two in the whole voyage from lima to panama. if, when near panama, they happen to meet a north-west wind, as sometimes happens, they must drive before it till it changes, merely using their best endeavours to avoid the shore, for they will never sink at sea. such vessels carry sixty or seventy tons of merchandise, as wine, oil, flour, sugar, quito cloth, soap, dressed goats skins, &c. they are navigated by three or four men only; who, on their arrival at panama, sell both the goods and vessel at that place, as they cannot go back again with them against the trade-wind. the smaller fishing barks of this construction are much easier managed. these go out to sea at night with the land-wind, and return to the shore in the day with the sea-breeze; and such small _barco longos_ are used in many parts of america, and in some places in the east indies. on the coast of coromandel they use only one log, or sometimes two, made of light wood, managed by one man, without sail or rudder, who steers the log with a paddle, sitting with his legs in the water.[ ] [footnote : on the coast of coromandel these small rafts are named _catamarans_, and are employed for carrying letters or messages between the shore and the ships, through the tremendous surf which continually breaks on that coast.--e.] the next town to payta of any consequence is _piura_, thirty miles from payta, seated in a valley on a river of the same name, which discharges its waters into the bay of _chirapee_ [or sechura.] in lat. ° ' s. this bay is seldom visited by ships of burden, being full of shoals; but the harbour of payta is one of the best on the coast of peru, being sheltered on the s.w. by a point of land, which renders the bay smooth and the anchorage safe, in from six to twenty fathoms on clear sand. most ships navigating this coast, whether bound north or south, touch at this port for fresh water, which is brought to them from _colon_ at a reasonable rate. early in the morning of the d november, our men landed about four miles south of payta, where they took some prisoners who were set there to watch. though informed that the governor of piura had come to the defence of payta with a reinforcement of an hundred men, they immediately pushed to the fort on the hill, which they took with little resistance, on which the governor and all the inhabitants evacuated payta, but which we found empty of money, goods, and provisions. that same evening we brought our ships to anchor near the town, in ten fathoms a mile from shore, and remained six days in hopes of getting a ransom for the town; but seeing we were not likely to have any, we set it on fire, and set sail at night with the land-breeze for the island of lobos. the th we came in sight of _lobos de tierra_, the inner or northern island of lobos, which is of moderate height, and appears at a distance like _lobos del mare_, the southern island of the same name, at which other island we arrived on the th. the evening of the th we set sail for the bay of guayaquil, which lies between cape _blanco_ in lat. ° ', and the point of _chanday_, or _carnera_, in ° ' both s. in the bottom of this bay is a small isle, called _santa clara_, extending e. and w. and having many shoals, which make ships that intend for guayaquil to pass on the south side of this island. from the isles of santa clara to _punta arena_, the n.w. point of the island of puna, is seven leagues [thirty statute miles] n.n.e. here ships bound for guayaquil take in pilots, who live in a town in puna of the same name, at its n.e. extremity, seven leagues [twenty-five miles] from punta arena. the island of puna is low, stretching fourteen leagues e. and w. and five leagues from n. to s.[ ] it has a strong tide running along its shores, which are full of little creeks and harbours. the interior of this island consists of good pasture land, intermixed with some woodlands, producing various kinds of trees to us unknown. among these are abundance of _palmitoes_, a tree about the thickness of an ordinary ash, and thirty feet high, having a straight trunk without branches or leaf, except at the very top, which spreads out into many small branches three or four feet long. at the extremity of each of these is a single leaf, which at first resembles a fan plaited together, and then opens out like a large unfolded fan. the houses in the town of puna are built on posts ten or twelve feet high, and are thatched with palmito leaves, the inhabitants having to go up to them by means of ladders. the best place for anchorage is directly opposite the town, in five fathoms, a cable's length from shore. [footnote : puna is nearly forty english miles from n.e. to s.w. and about sixteen miles from n.w. to s.e.] from puna to guayaquil is seven leagues, the entrance into the river of that name being two miles across, and it afterwards runs up into the country with a pretty straight course, the ground on both sides being marshy and full of red mangrove trees. about four miles below the town of guayaquil, the river is divided into two channels by a small low island, that on the west being broadest, though the other is as deep. from the upper end of this island to the town is about a league, and the river about the same in breadth, in which a ship of large burden may ride safely, especially on the side nearest the town. the town of guayaquil stands close to the river, being partly built on an ascent, and partly at the foot of a small hill, having a steep descent to the river. it is defended by two forts on the low grounds, and a third on the hill, and is one of the best ports belonging to the spaniards in the south sea. it is under the command of a governor, and is beautified by several fine churches and other good buildings. from this place they export cocoas, hides, tallow, sarsaparilla, drugs, and a kind of woollen cloth called quito-cloth. the cocoas grow on both sides of the river above the town, having a smaller nut than those of campeachy.[ ] sarsaparilla delights in watery places, near the side of the river. [footnote : the _cacao_, or chocolate-nut is probably here meant, not the cocoanut.--e.] quito is a populous place in the interior of the country, almost under the line, being in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich. it is inclosed by a ridge of high mountains, abounding in gold, being inhabited by a few spaniards, and by many indians under the spanish dominion. the rivers or streams which descend from the surrounding mountains carry great abundance of gold dust in their course into the low grounds, especially after violent rains, and this gold is collected out of the sand by washing. quito is reckoned the richest place for gold in all peru,[ ] but it is unwholesome, the inhabitants being subject to headaches, fevers, diarrhaes, and dysenteries; but guayaquil is greatly more healthy. at quito is made a considerable quantity of coarse woollen cloth, worn only by the lower class all over the kingdom of peru. [footnote : quito was annexed to the empire of peru, not long before the spanish conquest, but is now in the viceroyalty of new granada.--e.] leaving our ships at cape blanco, we went in a bark and several canoes to make an attempt on guayaquil, but were discovered, and returned therefore to our ships, in which we sailed for the island of plata, in lat. ° ' s. where we arrived on the th december. having provided ourselves with water on the opposite coast of the continent, we set sail on the d with a brisk gale at s.s.w. directing our course for a town called _lovalia_, in the bay of panama. next morning we passed in sight of cape _passado_, in lat. ° ' s. being a very high round point, divided in the middle, bare towards the sea, but covered on the land side with fruit-trees, the land thereabout being hilly and covered with wood. between this and cape san francisco there are many small points, inclosing as many sandy creeks full of trees of various kinds. meaning to look out for canoes, we were indifferent what river we came to, so we endeavoured to make for the river of st jago, by reason of its nearness to the island of _gallo_, in which there is much gold, and where was good anchorage for our ships. we passed cape st francisco, whence to the north the land along the sea is full of trees of vast height and thickness. between this cape and the island of gallo there are several large rivers, all of which we passed in our way to that of st jago, a large navigable river in lat. ° n.[ ] about seven leagues before it reaches the sea, this river divides into two branches, which inclose an island four leagues in circuit. both branches are very deep, but the s.w. channel is the broadest, and the other has sand-banks at its mouth, which cannot be passed at low-water. above the island the river is a league broad, having a straight channel and swift current, and is navigable three leagues up, but how much farther i know not. it runs through a very rich soil, producing all kinds of the tallest trees that are usually met with in this country, but especially red and white cotton-trees, and cabbage-trees of large size. the _white cotton-tree_ grows not unlike an oak, but much bigger and taller, having a straight trunk, without branches to the top, where it sends out strong branches. the bark is very smooth, the leaves of the size of a plum-tree leaf, dark green, oval, smooth, and jagged at the ends. these trees are not always biggest near the roots, but often swell out to a great size in the middle of their trunks. they bear _silk-cotton_, which falls to the ground in november and december, but is not so substantial as that of the cotton-shrub, being rather like the down of thistles. hence they do not think it worth being gathered in america; but in the east indies it is used for stuffing pillows. the old leaves of this tree fall off in april, and are succeeded by fresh leaves in the course of a week. the _red cotton-tree_ is somewhat less in size, but in other respects resembles the other, except that it produces _no cotton_. the wood is hard, though that of both kinds is somewhat spongy. both are found in fat soils, both in the east and west indies. [footnote : nearly in the indicated latitude is the river of patia, in the province of barbacoas. the river st jago of modern maps on this coast is in lat. ° ' n. in the province of atacames, or esmeraldas.--e.] the _cabbage-tree_ is the tallest that is found in these woods, some exceeding feet in height. it likewise is without boughs or branches to the top, where its branches are the thickness of a man's arm, and twelve or fourteen feet long. two feet from the stem come forth many small long leaves of an inch broad, so thick and regular on both sides that they cover the whole branch. in the midst of these high branches is what is called the cabbage, which, when taken out of the outer leaves, is a foot in length, and as thick as the small of a man's leg, as white as milk, and both sweet and wholesome. between the cabbages and the large branches many small twigs sprout out, two feet long and very close together, at the extremities of which grow hard round berries, about the size of cherries, which fall once a year on the ground, and are excellent food for hogs. the trunk has projecting rings half a foot asunder, the bark being thin and brittle, the wood hard and black, and the pith white. as the tree dies when deprived of its head, which is the cabbage, it is usually cut down before gathering the fruit. as the coast and country of lima has continual dry weather, so this northern part of peru is seldom without rain, which is perhaps one reason why this part of the coast is so little known. besides, in going from panama to lima, they seldom pass along the coast, but sail to the west as far as the cobaya islands, to meet the west winds, and thence stand over for cape st francisco. in returning to panama, they keep along the coast, but being deeply laden, their ships are not fit to enter the rivers, the banks of which, and the seacoast, are covered with trees and bushes, and are therefore convenient for the natives to lie in ambush. the indians have some plantations of maize and plantains, and also breed fowls and hogs. on the th december, , we entered the river of st jago [_patia_] with four canoes by the lesser branch, and met with no inhabitants till six leagues from its mouth, where we observed two small huts thatched with palmito leaves. we saw at the same time several indians, with their families and household goods, paddling up the river much faster than we could row, as they kept near the banks. on the opposite, or west side, we saw many other huts, about a league off but did not venture to cross the river, as the current was very rapid. in the two huts on the east side we only found a few plantains, some fowls, and one hog, which seemed to be of the european kind, such as the spaniards brought formerly to america, and chiefly to jamaica, hispaniola, and cuba, where, being previously marked, they feed in the woods all day, and are recalled to their pens at night by the sound of conch shells. we returned next morning to the mouth of the river, intending to proceed to the isle of _gallo_, where we had directed the ships to meet us. this small uninhabited island, in lat. ° n.[ ] is situated in a spacious bay, three leagues from the river _tomaco_, and four and a half from an indian village of the same name. it is moderately high, and well stored with timber, having a good sandy bay at its n.e. end, near which is a fine stream of fresh water; and over against the bay there is good anchorage in six or seven fathoms. there is only one channel by which to approach this island, in which are four fathoms, and into which it is necessary to enter with the flood, and to come out with the ebb. the river _tomaco_ is supposed to have its origin in the rich mountains of quito, and takes its name from that of a village on its banks.[ ] the country on this river is well peopled by indians, among whom are a few spaniards, who traffic for gold with the natives. this river is so shallow at the mouth, that it can only be entered by barks. the town of _tomaco_ is small, and situated near the mouth of the river, being chiefly occupied by the spaniards, who trade in this neighbourhood. from this place to that branch of the river st jago where we were then at anchor is five leagues. [footnote : the lat. of gallo is only ° ' n. that assigned in the text would lead to the isle of gorgona, in ° ' n. but the description of our author suits much better with gallo.--e.] [footnote : the island and point of tomaco are placed in modern maps at the mouth of the mira, off which are many islands, in lat. ° 'n.] as the land here is low and full of creeks, we left the river on the st december, and crossed these small bays in our canoes. in our way we saw an indian hut, whence we took the master and all his family, and rowing forwards, we came to tomaco at midnight. we here seized all the inhabitants, among whom was one don diego de pinas, a spanish knight, whose ship was at anchor not far off to load with timber, and in which we found thirteen jars of good wine, but no other loading. an indian canoe came to us, in which were three natives, who were straight and well-limbed, but of low stature, having black hair, long visages, small eyes and noses, and dark complexions. several of our men, who had gone seven or eight leagues up the river, returned on the st, bringing with them several ounces of gold, which they had found in a spanish house, whence the inhabitants had fled. on the st january, , while going in our canoes from tomaco to gallo, we took a packet of letters in a spanish boat bound from panama to lima, by which the president of panama wrote to hasten the plate fleet from lima, as the armada from spain had arrived in porto bello. this intelligence made us change our intention of proceeding to lavelia, instead of which we now proposed to make for the _pearl islands_, not far from panama, past which all ships bound from the south for panama must necessarily pass. we accordingly sailed on the th, and next day took a vessel of ninety tons, laden with flour; and continuing our voyage with a gentle wind at s. we anchored on the th at the island of _gorgona_, on its west side, in thirty-eight fathoms clean ground, two cables length from shore, in a sandy bay, the land round which is very low. _gorgona_ is in lat. ° ' n. twenty-five leagues from gallo, and is remarkable for two high risings or hills called the saddles. this island is two leagues long by one league broad, and is about four from the continent, having another small isle at its west end. it is full of tall trees, and is watered by many rivulets, having no animals except monkies, rabbits, and snakes. it is very subject to heavy rains, and the only observable difference in the seasons here is, that the rains are more moderate in summer. the sea around is so deep that there is no anchorage except at the west end, where the tide flows eight feet. muscles and periwinkles are here in great plenty, and the monkies open the shells at low water. there are also abundance of pearl oysters, fixed to loose rocks by their beards, four, five, and six fathoms under water. these resemble our oysters, but are somewhat flatter and thinner in the shell, their flesh being slimy and not eatable, unless dried beforehand and afterwards boiled. some shells contain twenty or thirty seed pearls, and others have one or two pearls of some size, lying at the head of the oyster, between the fish and the shell; but the inside of the shells have a brighter lustre than even the pearls. the th january we pursued our voyage for _isla del rey_, being two men of war, two tenders a fire-ship, and a prize vessel. with the trade-wind at s. we sailed along the continent, having low land near the sea but seeing high mountains up the country. on the th we passed cape _corientes_, in lat. ° ' n. being a high point with four small hillocks on the top, and at this place found a current setting to the north. the st we came in sight of point _garachina_, in lat. ° ' n.[ ] the land here being high and rocky, and without trees near the shore. within the point there is plenty of oysters and muscles. about twelve leagues from this point are the islands called _islas del rey_, or the pearl islands.[ ] between these and the point of garachina there is a small flat barren island, called _galleria_, near which we came to anchor. [footnote : carachina point is in lat. ° ' n.] [footnote : the isla del rey is a considerable island in the bay of panama, and the archipelago de las perlas are a multitude of [illegible] islets n. by w. from that island.--e.] the _king's_ or _pearl_ islands, are a considerable number of low woody isles, seven leagues from the nearest continent, and twelve leagues from panama, stretching fourteen leagues from n.w. by n. to s.e. by s. though named pearl islands in the maps, i could never see any pearls about them. the northermost of these isles, called _pachea_ or _pacheque_, which is very small, is eleven or twelve leagues from panama; the most southerly is called st paul's island, and the rest, though larger, have no names. some of them are planted with bananas, plantains, and rice by negroes belonging to the inhabitants of panama. the channel between these islands and the continent is seven or eight leagues broad, of a moderate depth, and has good anchorage all the way. these isles lie very close together, yet have channels between them fit for boats. at one end of _st paul's_ island, there is a good careening place, in a deep channel inclosed by the land, into which the entrance is on the north side, where the tide rises ten feet. we brought our ships in on the th, being spring tide, and having first cleaned our barks, we sent them on the th to cruise towards panama. the fourth day after, they brought us in a prize coming from lavelia, laden with maize or indian corn, salted beef and fowls. _lavelia_ is a large town on the bank of a river which runs into the north side of the bay of panama, and is seven leagues from the sea; and _nata_ is another town situated in a plain on a branch of the same river.[ ] these two places supply panama with beef, hogs, fowls, and maize. in the harbour where we careened, we found abundance of oysters, muscles, limpits, and clams, which last are a kind of oysters, which stick so close to the rocks that they must be opened where they grow, by those who would come at their meat. we also found here some pigeons and turtle-doves. [footnote : from the circumstances in the text lavelia seems to be the town now named san francisco, near the head of the river salado, which runs into the gulf parita, on the _west_ side of the bay of panama.--e.] having well careened our ships by the th february, and provided a stock of wood and water, we sailed on the th, and came to anchor in the great channel between the isles and the continent, in fifteen fathoms, on soft ooze, and cruised next day towards panama, about which the shore seemed very beautiful, interspersed with a variety of hills and many small thickets. about a league from the continent there are several small isles, partly ornamented with scattered trees, and the _king's isles_ on the opposite side of the channel give a delightful prospect, from their various shapes and situations. the th we went towards panama, and anchored directly opposite old panama, once a place of note, but mostly laid in ashes by sir henry morgan, and not since rebuilt. new panama is about four leagues from the old town, near the side of a river, being a very handsome city, on a spacious bay of the same name, into which many long navigable rivers discharge their waters, some of which have gold in their sands. the country about panama affords a delightful prospect from the sea, having a great diversity of hills, vallies, groves, and plains. the houses are mostly of brick, and pretty lofty, some being handsomely built, especially that inhabited by the president; the churches, monasteries, and other public edifices, making the finest appearance of any place i have seen in the spanish west indies. it is fortified by a high stone wall, mounted by a considerable number of guns, which were formerly only on the land side, but have now been added to the side next the sea. the city has vast trade, being the staple or emporium for all goods to and from peru and chili; besides that, every three years, when the spanish _armada_ comes to porto bello, the _plate fleet_ comes here with the treasure belonging to the king and the merchants, whence it is carried on mules by land to porto bello, at which time, from the vast concourse of people, everything here is enormously dear. the spanish armada, which comes every three years to the west indies, arrives first at carthagena, whence an express is dispatched by land to the viceroy at lima, and two packets are also sent by sea, one for lima, and the other for mexico, which last i suppose goes by way of _vera cruz_. that for lima goes first by land to panama, and thence by sea to lima. after remaining sixty days at carthagena, the armada sails to porto bello, where it only remains thirty days to take in the royal treasure brought here from panama, said to amount to twenty-four millions of dollars, besides treasure and goods belonging to the merchants. from porto bello the armada weighs always on the thirtieth day, but the admiral will sometimes stay a week longer at the mouth of the river, to oblige the merchants. it then returns to carthagena, where it meets the king's money from that part of the country, as also a large spanish galleon or patache, which, on the first arrival of the armada at carthagena, had been dispatched along the coast to collect the royal treasure. the armada, after a set stay at carthagena, sails for the havannah, where a small squadron called the _flota_ meets it from vera cruz, bringing the riches of mexico, and the rich goods brought by the annual ship from manilla. when all the ships are joined, they sail for spain through the gulf of florida. porto bello is a very unhealthy place, on which account the merchants of lima stay there as short time as possible. panama is seated in a much better air, enjoying the sea-breeze every day from ten or eleven in the forenoon till eight or nine at night, when the land-breeze begins, and blows till next morning. besides, on the land side panama has an open champaign country, and is seldom troubled with fogs; neither is the rainy season, which continues from may till november, nearly so excessive as at porto bello, though severe enough in june, july, and august, in which season the merchants of peru, who are accustomed to a constant serene air, without rains or fogs, are obliged to cut off their hair, to preserve them from fevers during their stay. the st february, near the perico islands opposite to panama, we took another prize from lavelia, laden with beeves, hogs, fowls, and salt. the th we went to the isle of taboga, six leagues south of panama. this island is three miles long and two broad, being very rocky and steep all round, except on the north side, where the shore has an easy dope. in the middle of the isle the soil is black and rich, where abundance of plantains and bananas are produced, and near the sea there are cocoa and _mammee_ trees. these are large and straight in their stems, without knots, boughs, or branches, and sixty or seventy feet high. at the top there are many small branches set close together, bearing round fruit about the size of a large quince, covered with a grey rind, which is brittle before the fruit is ripe, but grows yellow when the fruit comes to maturity, and is then easily peeled off. the ripe fruit is also yellow, resembling a carrot in its flesh, and both smells and tastes well, having two rough flat kernels in the middle, about the size of large almonds. the s.w. side of this isle is covered with trees, affording abundant fuel, and the n. side has a fine stream of good water, which falls from the mountains into the sea. near this there was formerly a pretty town with a handsome church, but it has been mostly destroyed by the privateers. there is good anchorage opposite this town a mile from the shore, in sixteen to eighteen fathoms on soft ooze. at the n.n.w. end is a small town called _tabogilla_, and on the n.e. of this another small town or village without a name. while at anchor near _tabogilla_, we were in great danger from a pretended merchant, who brought a bark to us in the night, under pretence of being laden with merchandise to trade with us privately, but which was in reality a fire-ship fitted out for our destruction. but on her approach, some of our men hailed her to come to anchor, and even fired upon her, which so terrified the men that they got into their canoes, having first set her on fire, on which we cut our cables and got out of her way. this fire-ship was constructed and managed by one bond, who formerly deserted from us to the spaniards. while busied next morning in recovering our anchors, we discovered a whole fleet of canoes full of men, passing between tabogilla and another isle. these proved to be french and english buccaneers, lately come from the north sea across the isthmus of darien, of them being french and english. these last were divides between our two ships, under captains davis and swan; and the frenchmen were put into our prize, named the flower, under the command of captain gronet, their countryman, in return for which he offered commissions to captains davis and swan, from the governor of petite goave, as it is the custom of the french privateers to carry with them blank commissions. captain davis accepted one, but captain swan had one already from the duke of york. learning from these men that captain townley was coming across the isthmus of darien with englishmen, we set sail on the d march for the gulf of _san miguel_ to meet townley. this gulf is on the east side of the great bay of panama, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. thirty leagues s.e. from panama; from whence the passage lies between isola del rey and the main. in this gulf many rivers discharge their waters. its southern point is cape _carachina_, in lat. ° ' n. and the northern, named cape _gardo_, is in lat. ° ' n. the most noted rivers which discharge themselves into this gulf, are named _santa maria, sambo_, and _congo_. this last rises far within the country, and after being joined by many small streams on both sides of its course, falls into the north side of the gulf a league from cape gardo. it is deep and navigable for several leagues into the country, but not broad, and is neglected by the spaniards owing to its nearness to the river of santa maria, where they have gold mines. _santa maria_ is the largest of the rivers in this gulf, being navigable for eight or nine leagues, as far as the tide flows, above which it divides into several branches fit only for canoes. in this river the tide of flood rises eighteen feet. about the year , the spaniards built the town of santa maria, near six leagues up this river,[ ] to be near the gold mines. i have been told, that, besides the gold usually procured out of the ore and sand, they sometimes find lumps wedged between the fissures of rocks as large as hens eggs or larger. one of these was got by mr harris, who got here pounds weight of gold, and in his lump there were several crevices full of earth and dust. [footnote : in modern maps the river which seems to agree with this description of the santa maria, is called _tlace_, one of the principal branches of which is named chuchunque. the gold mines of cana and balsa are placed on some of its branches, on which likewise there are several towns, as nisperal, fichichi, pungana, praya, and balsa.--e.] the spaniards employ their slaves to dig these mines in the dry season; but when the rivers overflow, as the mines cannot be then worked, the indians wash the gold out of the sands that are forced down from the mountains, and which gold they sell to the spaniards, who gain as much in that way as they do by their mines. during the wet season, the spaniards retire with their slaves to panama. near the mouth of the santa maria, the spaniards have lately built another town, called _scuchadores_,[ ] in a more airy situation than santa maria. the land all about the gulf of san miguel is low and fertile, and is covered with great numbers of large trees. [footnote : this probably is that named nisperal in modern geography, the appellation in the text being the spanish name, and the other the name given by the indians.--e.] while crossing the isthmus, gronet had seen captain townley and his crew at the town of santa maria, busied in making causes in which to embark on the south sea, the town being at that time abandoned by the spaniards; and on the d march, when we were steering for the gulf of san miguel, we met captain townley and his crew in two barks which they had takes, one laden with brandy, wine, and sugar, and the other with flour. as he wanted room for his men, he distributed the jars among our ships, in which the spaniards transport their brandy, wine, and oil. these jars hold seven or eight gallons each. being now at anchor among the king's islands, but our water growing scarce, we sailed for cape carachina, in hopes of providing ourselves with that necessary article, and anchored within that cape, in four fathoms on the d. we here found the tide to rise nine feet, and the flood to set n.n.e. the ebb running s.s.w. the natives brought us some refreshments, but as they did not in the least understand spanish, we supposed they had no intercourse with the spaniards. finding no water here, we sailed for _porto pinas_, about fifty miles to the s. by w. in lat. ° ' n. which is so named from the vast numbers of pine-trees which grow in its neighbourhood. the country here rises by a gentle ascent from the sea to a considerable height, and is pretty woody near the shore. at the entrance into the harbour there are two small rocks, which render the passage narrow, and the harbour within is rather small, besides which it is exposed to the s.w. wind. we sent our boats into this harbour for water, which they could not procure, owing to a heavy sea near the shore; wherefore we again made sail for cape carachina, where we arrived on the th march. on our way we took a canoe, in which were four indians and a mulatto, and as the last was found to have been in the fire-ship sent against us, he was hanged. on the th of april we anchored among the king's isles, where we met with captain harris, who had come with some men by way of the river of santa maria. the th, men were sent in canoes to the river _cheapo_, to surprise the town of that name. the st we followed them to the island of _chepillo_, directly opposite the mouth of the river chepo, or cheapo, in the bay of panama, about seven leagues from the city of panama, and one league from the continent. this is a pleasant island, about two miles long, and as much in breadth, low on the north side, but rising by a gentle ascent to the south. the soil is very good, and produces in the low grounds great store of fine fruits, as plantains, mammees, sapotas, sapadillos, avogato pears, star-apples, and others. half a mile from shore there is good anchorage, opposite to which is a very good spring of fresh-water near the sea. the _sapadillo_-tree is altogether like a pear-tree, and the fruit resembles a bergamot pear, but somewhat longer. when first gathered it is hard and the juice clammy; but after keeping a few days it becomes juicy and sweet. it has two or three black kernels, resembling pomegranate seeds. the _avogato_-tree is higher than our pear-trees, having a black smooth bark, and oval leaves. the fruit is about the size of a large lemon, green at first, but becomes yellow when ripe, having a yellowish pulp as soft as butter. after being three or four days gathered, the rind comes easily off, and as the fruit is insipid it is commonly eaten with sugar and limejuice, being esteemed a great provocative by the spaniards, who have therefore planted them in most of their settlements on the atlantic. it has a stone within as large as a horse-plum. the _sapota_-tree, or _mammee-sapota_, is neither so large nor so tall as the wild mammae at taboga, nor is the fruit so large or so round. the rind is smooth, and the pulp, which is pleasant and wholesome, is quite red, with a rough longish stone. there are also here some wild _mammee_-trees, which grow very tall and straight, and are fit for masts, but the fruit is not esteemed. the tree producing the _star-apples_ resembles our quince-tree, but is much larger, and has abundance of broad oval leaves. the fruit is as big as a large apple, and is reckoned very good, but i never tasted it. the river _chepo_, or _cheapo_, rises in the mountains near the north side of the isthmus, being inclosed between a northern and southern range, between which it makes its way to the s.w. after which it describes nearly a semicircle, and runs gently into the sea about seven leagues e. from panama, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. its mouth is very deep, and a quarter of a mile broad, but is so obstructed at the entrance by sands as only to be navigable by barks. about six leagues from the sea stands the city of _cheapo_, on the _left_ bunk of the river.[ ] this place stands in a champaign country, affording a very pleasant prospect, as it has various hills in the neighbourhood covered with wood, though most of the adjacent lands are pasture-grounds to the north of the river, but the country south from the river is covered with wood for many miles. [footnote : in modern maps the town of chepo is placed on the _right_ bank of the river, as descending the stream, and only about five miles up the river.--e.] our men returned from cheapo on the th, having taken that town without opposition, but found nothing there worth mention. the th we were joined by captain harris, and arrived at taboga on the th, when, finding ourselves nearly a thousand strong, we meditated an attack on panama; but, being informed by our prisoners that the spaniards there had received considerable reinforcements from porto bello, that design was laid aside. the th may we had intelligence from some prisoners that the lima fleet was daily expected, whereupon we anchored in a narrow channel, a mile long and not above seven paces wide, formed by two or three small islands on the south side of the island of _pacheque_. our fleet now consisted of ten sail, only two of which were ships of war, that commanded by captain davis having guns and , while captain swan's carried guns and men. the rest were only provided with small arms, and our whole force amounted to men. we had also a fire-ship. hitherto we had the wind at n.n.e. with fair weather, but on the th of may the rainy season began. on that day, about a.m. it began to clear up, and we discovered the spanish fleet three leagues w.n.w. from the island of pacheque, standing to the east, we being then at anchor a league s.e. from that isle, between it and the continent. we set sail about three p.m. bearing down upon the spaniards right before the wind, while they kept close upon a wind to meet us. night coming on, we only exchanged a few shots at that time. as soon as it began to be dark, the spanish admiral shewed a light at his top, as a signal for his fleet to anchor. in half an hour this was taken down; but soon after a light appeared as before, which went to leewards, which we followed under sail, supposing it to be still the admiral; but this was a stratagem of the spaniards to deceive as, being at the top-mast head of one of their barks, and effectually succeeded, as we found in the morning they had gained the weather-gage of us. they now bore down upon us under full sail, so that we were forced to make a running fight all next day, almost quite round the bay of panama, and came at length to anchor over against the island of pacheque. as captain townley was hard pressed by the spaniards, he was forced to make a bold run through the before-mentioned narrow channel, between pacheque and the three small islands; and captain harris was obliged to separate from us during the fight. thus our long-projected design vanished into smoke. according to the report of some prisoners taken afterwards, the spanish fleet consisted of fourteen sail, besides _periagoes_, or large boats of twelve or fourteen oars each, and among these there were eight ships of good force, mounting from eight to forty-eight guns, with two fire-ships, and computed to contain men. in the morning of the th we saw the spanish fleet at anchor, three leagues from us to leeward, and by ten a.m. they were under sail with an easy gale from the s. making the best of their way to panama. in this affair we had but one man slain, but never knew the loss sustained by the spaniards. captain gronet and his frenchmen never joined us in this fight, laying the fault upon his men, wherefore he was ordered in a consultation to leave us; after which we resolved to sail for the islands of quibo, or cobaya, in quest of captain harris. we sailed on the st june, , with the wind at s.s.w. passing between cape carachina and _islas del rey_. the th we came in sight of _moro de puercos_, a high round hill on the coast of lavelia, in lat. ° ' n. round which the coast makes a turn northwards to the isles of quibo. on this part of the coast there are many rivers and creeks, but not near so large as those on the east side of the bay of panama. near the sea this western coast of the bay is partly hilly and partly low land, with many thick woods, but in the interior there are extensive savannahs or fruitful plains, well stored with cattle. some of the rivers on this side produce gold, but not in such abundance as on the other side; and there are hardly any spanish settlements on this side, except along the rivers leading to lavelia and nata, which are the only places i know of between panama and _pueblo nova_. from panama there is good travelling all over mexico, through savannahs or plains; but towards peru there is no passage by land beyond the river chepo, by reason of thick woods and many rivers and mountains. we arrived at the isle of _quibo_ on the th june, where we found captain harris. this isle is in lat ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. it is near seven leagues long by four broad, being all low land, except at its n.e. end, on which side, and also to the east, there is excellent water. it abounds in many kinds of trees, among which are great numbers of deer and black monkeys, the flesh of which is reckoned very wholesome; and it has some guanas and snakes. a sand-bank runs out half a mile into the sea from the s.e. end of this island, and on its east side, a league to the north of this, there is a rock a mile from the shore, which is seen above water at last quarter of the ebb. in all other places there is safe anchorage a quarter of a mile from the shore, in six, eight, ten, and twelve fathoms, on clean sand and ooze. the isle of _quicarra_, to the south of quibo, is pretty large; and to the north of it is a small isle named ranchina, which produces great plenty of certain trees called _palma-maria_. these are straight, tough, and of good length, and are consequently fit for masts, the grain of the wood having a gradual twist or spiral direction; but, notwithstanding the name, they have no resemblance to palms. to the n.e. of quibo are the small islands of _canales_ and _cantarras_, in the channels between which there is good anchorage. these islands have plenty of wood and water, and appear at a distance as if part of the continent; and as the island of quibo is the most considerable, these isles are generally named collectively the quibo islands. having failed in our designs at sea, it was agreed to try our fortune on land, and the city of leon, near the coast of nicaragua in mexico, was pitched upon, as being nearest us. being in want of canoes for landing our men, we cut down trees to make as many as we had occasion for, and in the mean time men were detached to take _puebla nova_, a town on the continent, near the quibo island,[ ] in hopes of getting some provisions. they easily took that town, but got nothing there except an empty bark, and returned to us on the th june. captain knight came back to us on the th july, having been farther to the west, but meeting with no prize, he had gone south to the bay of guayaquil, where he took two _barco-longas_, with wine, oil, brandy, sugar, soap, and other commodities. knight learnt from his prisoners that certain merchant ships, designed to have accompanied the spanish fleet to panama, remained behind at payta, which he might easily have taken if he had been provided with a stronger force. [footnote : the only place in modern geography resembling the name, and agreeing with the description in the text, is san pablo on the s. coast of veragua, in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° w. from greenwich.--e.] our canoes being all ready, we sailed from quibo on the th july towards realejo, a port a small way to the n.w. of leon, being now men, with eight ships, three tenders, and a fire-ship. coasting along to the n.w. we passed the gulfs of dulce and nicoya, and the _isla del cano_, the land along the coast being low and covered with wood, but almost destitute of inhabitants. august th, in lat. ° ' n. we got sight of _volcano viejo_, or old volcano, the sea-mark for realejo, bearing from us n.e. by n. when we made ready to land next day. accordingly, we sent men on the th in thirty-one canoes to attack the harbour of realejo. the weather was fair and the wind favourable till two p.m. when a tempest arose, attended by thunder and lightning, which almost overwhelmed us in the sea. it subsided, however, in half an hoar, as did the agitation of the waves; it being observable in these hot climates that the waves soon rise and soon fall. it became calm about seven p.m. but as we could not get ready to land that night before day, being then five leagues from shore, we remained nearly in the same place till next evening, that we might not be discovered. about three next morning another tornado had nearly put an end to us and our enterprise, but it did not last long, and we entered the creek, on the s.e. side of the harbour, leading to realejo in the night, but durst not proceed further till day-break. we then rowed deeper into the creek, which is very narrow, the land on both sides being very marshy and full of mangrove trees, through among which it is impossible to pass, and beyond these, where the ground is firm, the spaniards had cast up a small entrenchment. we rowed as fast as we could and landed men, the remainder, among whom i was, being left to guard the canoes. the city of leon stands twenty miles up the country in a sandy plain, near a peaked burning mountain, called _el rico_, or the volcano of leon, the way to that city from where our people landed being through a champaign country covered with long grass. between the landing place and the city were several sugar works, and about midway a beautiful river, but fordable. two miles before coming to the city there was an indian town, whence a pleasant sandy road led to the city. the houses in leon were large and built of stone, but low and roofed with tiles, having many gardens among them, with a cathedral and three other churches. it stands in an extensive sandy plain or savannah, which absorbs all the rain, and being entirely free from wood, it has free access to the breezes on all sides. these circumstances render it a healthy and pleasant place, but not of much commerce, all the wealth of its inhabitants consisting in cattle and sugar works. our people began their march for leon at eight a.m. the van consisting of eighty of the briskest men, being led by captain townly. he was followed by captain swan with men, and captain davis, assisted by captain knight, brought up the rear with men.[ ] captain townley, being two miles in advance of the rest, and having repulsed a body of seventy horse about four miles short of leon, pushed forwards with his vanguard, and entered the city without farther resistance at three p.m. he was then opposed by foot and horse, first in a broad street, and afterwards in the great market-place; but the horse soon galloped off, and were followed by the foot, leaving the city to the mercy of our people. captain swan reached the city at four p.m. davis about five, and knight with the remainder at six. the spaniards only killed one of our men, who was very old and had loitered behind, refusing to accept quarter, and took another named smith. the governor sent word next day, offering to ransom the town; on which our officers demanded , pieces of eight, or spanish dollars, together with provisions for men for four months, which terms being refused, our people set the city on fire on the th of august, and rejoined the canoes next morning. smith was exchanged for a gentlewoman, and a gentleman who had been made prisoner was released, on promise to deliver oxen for his ransom at realejo, the place we intended next to attack. [footnote : only men are here accounted for, though are said to have marched on this enterprise, leaving a difference of men: perhaps these made a separate corps under knight, as he seems to have fallen considerably in the rear of davis.--e.] in the afternoon of the th we came to the harbour of realejo in our canoes, our ships having come there to anchor. the creek leading to realejo extends north from the n.w. part of the harbour, being nearly two leagues from the island at the mouth of the harbour to the town. the first two-thirds of this distance the creek is broad, after which it closes into a deep narrow channel, lined on both sides by many cocoa-trees. a mile from the entrance the creek winds towards the west, and here the spaniards had thrown up an entrenchment, fronting the entrance of the creek, and defended by soldiers and twenty guns, having a boom of trees thrown across the creek, so that they might easily have beaten off men, but they wanted courage to defend their excellent post; for on our firing two guns they all ran away, leaving us at liberty to cut the boom. we then landed and marched to the town of realejo, a fine borough about a mile from thence, seated in a plain on a small river. it had three churches and an hospital, but is seated among fens and marshes, which send forth a noisome scent, and render it very unhealthy. the country round has many sugar works and cattle pens, and great quantities of pitch, tar, and cordage are made by the people. it also abounds in melons, pine-apples, guavas, and prickly pears. the shrub which produces the _guava_ has long small boughs, with a white smooth bark, and leaves like our hazel. the fruit resembles a pear, with a thin rind, and has many hard seeds. it may be safely eaten while green, which is not the case with most other fruits in the east or west indies. before being ripe it is astringent, but is afterwards loosening. when ripe it is soft, yellow, and well tasted, and may either be baked like pears, or coddled like apples. there are several sorts, distinguished by their shape, taste, and colour, some being red and others yellow in the pulp. the _prickly-pear_ grows on a shrub about five feet high, and is common in many parts of the west indies, thriving best on sandy grounds near the sea. each branch has two or three round fleshy leaves, about the breadth of the hand, somewhat like those of the house-leek, edged all round with spines or sharp prickles an inch long. at the outer extremity of each leaf the fruit is produced, about the size of a large plum, small towards the leaf and thicker at the other end, where it opens like a medlar. the fruit, which is also covered by small prickles, is green at first, but becomes red as it ripens, having a red pulp of the consistence of a thick syrup, with small black seeds, pleasant and cooling to the taste. i have often observed, on eating twenty or more of these at a time, that the urine becomes as red as blood, but without producing any evil consequence. we found nothing of value in realejo, except sacks of flour, with some pitch, tar, and cordage. we also received here the oxen promised by the gentleman who was released at leon; which, together with sugar, and other cattle we procured in the country, were very welcome and useful to us. we remained in realejo from the th to the th of august, when we re-embarked. on the th captains davis and swan agreed to separate, the former being inclined to return to the coast of peru, and the latter to proceed farther to the north-west; and as i was curious to become better acquainted with the north-western parts of mexico, i left captain davis and joined captain swan. captain townley joined us with his two barks, but captains harris and knight went along with swan. on the th davis went out of the harbour with his ship, but we staid behind for some time, to provide ourselves with wood and water. by this time our men began to be much afflicted with fevers, which we attributed to the remains of a contagious distemper that lately raged at realejo, as the men belonging to captain davis were similarly infected. we sailed from realejo on the d september, steering to the north-west along the coast, having tornadoes from the n.w. accompanied with much thunder and lightning, which obliged us to keep out to sea, so that we saw no land till the th, when we were in lat. ° ' n. we then came in sight of the volcano of guatimala. this presents a double peak like two sugar-loaves, between which fire and smoke sometimes burst forth, especially before bad weather. the city of guatimala stands near the foot of this high mountain, eight leagues from the south sea, and forty or fifty from the gulf of amatique, at the bottom of the bay of honduras.[ ] this city is reputed to be rich, as the country around abounds in several commodities peculiar to it, especially four noted dyes, indigo, otta or anotto, cochineal, and silvestre.[ ] having in vain endeavoured to land on this part of the coast, we proceeded to the small isle of _tangola_. a league from the continent, where we found good anchorage, with plenty of wood and water. [footnote : this description agrees with the situation of st jago de guatemala, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w., which is about thirty statute miles from the south sea. the modern city of guatemala, standing nine miles to the s.e., is only about sixteen miles from the sea at the head of a bay of the same name.--e] [footnote : this last is an inferior species of cochineal, gathered from the uncultivated opuntia, while the true cochineal is carefully attended to in regular plantations. both are the bodies of certain insects gathered by the indians and dried for preservation, constituting the most valuable scarlet dye.--e] a league from thence is the port of _guataico_, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. one of the best in mexico. on the east side of the entrance, and about a mile from it, there is a small isle near the shore, and on the west side a great hollow rock, open at top, through which the waves force a passage with a great noise to a great height even in the calmest weather, which affords an excellent mark for seamen. this port runs into the land about three miles in a n.w. direction, and is about one mile broad. the west side affords the securest anchorage, the other being exposed to s.w. winds, which are frequent on this coast. we landed here to the number of men, of whom i was one, on the th september, and marched about fourteen miles to an indian village, where we found nothing but _vanillas_ drying in the sun. the _vanilla_ grows on a small vine, or bindwood shrub, which winds about the stems of trees, producing a yellow flower, which changes to a pod of four or five inches long, about the the size of a tobacco-pipe stem. this is at first green, but becomes yellow when ripe, having black seeds. when gathered they are laid in the sun, which makes them soft and of a chesnut colour, when they are squeezed flat by the indians. the spaniards buy this commodity at a cheap rate from the indians, and afterwards preserve it in oil. the th we sent four of our canoes to wait for us at the port of _angelos_, about ten miles w. from guataico, and on the th we sailed from guataico. the d we landed men at angelos, where they got salt beef, maize, salt, hogs, and poultry but could bring little on board, being at a distance from the shore. hearing of a stout ship lately arrived at acapulco from lima, and as captain townley was much in need of a better ship, it was agreed to endeavour to cut that ship out of the harbour. _acapulco_ is a town and harbour in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. on the western coast of new spain, and belonging to the city of mexico, being the only place of commerce on this coast, and yet there are only three ships that come to it annually. two of these go every year between this port and manilla in luconia, one of the philippines, and the third goes once a year to and from lima in peru. this last comes to acapulco about christmas, laden with quicksilver, cacao, and dollars, and waits the arrival of the manilla ships, from which she takes in a cargo of spices, calicos, muslins, and other goods of india and china, and then returns to lima. this is only a vessel of moderate size; but the two manilla ships are each of about tons burden. these manilla ships arrange their voyages in such a way that one or the other is always at manilla. one of them sails from acapulco about the beginning of april; and after sixty days passage across the pacific ocean, touches at guam, one of the ladrones, to procure refreshments. she remains here only three days, and pursues her voyage for manilla, where she arrives in the mouth of june. the other ship, being ready laden at manilla with india commodities, sets sail soon after for acapulco. from manilla she steers a course to the latitude of ° or ° n. before she can fall in with a wind to carry her to america, and falls in first with the coast of california, and then is sure of a wind to carry her down the coast to acapulco. after making cape lucas, the s. point of california, she runs over to cape _corientes_, in lat. ° ' n. whence she proceeds along the coast to _selagua_, where the passengers for mexico are landed, and then continues along the coast to acapulco, where she usually arrives about christmas. this port of acapulco is very safe and convenient, and of sufficient capacity to contain some hundred ships without danger. there is a low island across the entrance, stretching from e. to w. about a mile and a half long by a mile in breadth, having a deep channel at each end, through either of which ships may enter or go out, providing they go in with the sea-breeze, and out with the land-wind, which regularly blow at stated times of the day and night. the channel at the west end of the isle is narrow, but so deep as to have no anchorage, and through this the manilla ship comes in; but the lima ship takes the other channel. the harbour runs eight miles into the land to the north, when it closes up and becomes narrow, after which it stretches a mile to the west. at the entrance of this channel, and on the n.w. side, close to the shore, stands the town of acapulco, near which is a platform or battery with a good number of guns; and on the east side of the channel, opposite the town, there is a strong castle, having not less than forty pieces of large cannon, and the ships usually ride at the bottom of the harbour, under the guns of this castle. captain townley went with men in twelve canoes to endeavour to cut out the lima ship; but finding her at anchor within yards of both the castle and platform, found it impossible to effect his purpose, so that he was obliged to return much dissatisfied. we accordingly sailed on the th november along the coast to the n.w. between acapulco and petaplan, where we found every where good anchorage two miles from shore, but the surf beat with such violence on the coast that there was no safe landing. near the sea the country was low, and abounding in trees, especially spreading palm-trees, some of which were twenty or thirty feet high in the stem, but of no great size. this part of the country was intermixed with many small hills, mostly barren, but the vallies seemed fertile. the hill of petaplan, or petatlan, sends out a round point into the sea, called cape _jequena_, in lat. ° ' n. which appears from sea like an island, and a little farther west there is a knot of round hills, having an intervening bay, in which we anchored in eleven fathoms. we here landed men, who marched fourteen miles into the country, when they reached a wretched indian village, deserted by the inhabitants, so that we only found one mulatto-woman and four young children. proceeding on the th about two leagues farther to the n.w. we came to a pretty good harbour named _chequetan_, having the convenience of a good fresh-wafer river and plenty of wood. on the th we landed ninety-five men, having the mulatto-woman for their guide, at _estapa_,[ ] a league west from chequetan. the guide now conducted them through a pathless wood along a river, and coming to a farm-house in a plain, they found a caravan of sixty mules, laden with flour, chocolate, cheese, and earthenware, intended for acapulco, and of which this woman had given them intelligence. all this they carried off, except the earthenware, and brought aboard in their canoes, together with some beeves they killed in the plain. captain swan went afterwards on shore, and killed other eighteen beeves, without any opposition. we found the country woody but fertile, and watered by many rivers and rivulets. [footnote : istapha is to the eastward of petatlan, but chequetan is not delineated in modern maps, neither are any rivers noticed for a great way either n.w. or s.e. from petatlan.--e.] sailing on the st to the n.w. the land appeared full of rugged hills, with frightful intervening vallies. on the th we passed a high hill having several peaks, in lat. ° ' n. near which there is a town named _cupan_,[ ] but we could not find the way to it. the th, men were sent to find out the way to _colima_, said to be a rich place, but after rowing twenty leagues along shore they could not find any place fit for landing, and saw not the least sign of any inhabitants, so that they returned to the ships on the th. soon after we got sight of the volcano of colima, remarkable for its height, six leagues from the sea, in lat. ° ' n. it shewed two peaks or summits, both of which always emit either fire or smoke. the valley at the foot of this mountain is said to be fertile and delightful, abounding in cacao, corn, and plantains, and is said to be ten or twelve leagues wide towards the sea, and to reach far into the country. it is watered by a deep river named colima, but which is so obstructed by a sand-bank at its mouth, as not even to allow admission to canoes; but there is no landing on this part of the coast, owing to the impetuosity of the surf. the town of colima is the chief place of this part of the country. [footnote : probably texupan, in lat. ° ' n. is here meant.--e.] the th, men were sent in canoes to attempt to land, and if possible to find a road to the town of _selagua_, seated, as we were told by the spaniards, at the n.w. end of the vale of colima, but they were unable to land, owing to the violence of the waves. we came in sight of the port of _selagua_ on the st december. this is a bay in lat. ° ' n. parted in the middle by a rocky point, so that it appears like two havens, in either of which there is safe anchorage in ten or twelve fathoms, though the western harbour is the best, and has besides the advantage of a fresh-water rivulet. we saw a considerable number of armed spaniards on the land, to whom we made a visit next morning with men, but they soon fled. in the pursuit our people found a broad road, leading through a wooded and rocky country, which they followed for four leagues, but found not the least appearance of any inhabitants, and therefore turned back. on their return they took two straggling mulattoes, who said the broad road led to the city of _oarrah_,[ ] four long days journey into the country, and that these men came from that city to protect the manilla ship, which was expected to set her passengers ashore at this place. the spanish maps place a town called selagua hereabouts, but we could not find any appearance of it. [footnote : guadalaxara, the latter part of which is pronounced _achara_, is probably here meant. it is miles inland from the port of selagua.--e.] we pursued our voyage on the th december towards cape corientes, in hopes of meeting the manilla ship. the land on the coast was moderately high, sprinkled with many rugged points, and full of wood, having several apparently good ports between selagua and cape corientes, but we did not touch at any of them. cape corientes, of which we came in sight on the th, in lat. ° ' n. is pretty high, being very steep and rocky towards the sea, but flat on the top. i found its longitude from the lizard in england, by our reckoning, ° ' w.[ ] as the manilla ship is obliged to make this point on her voyage to acapulco, we took up a station here with our four ships in such a manner that we judged she could hardly escape us; but as we were in want of provisions, fifty or sixty men were sent in a bark beyond the cape to endeavour to get some. they returned, however, on the th, not having been able to double the cape, but left forty-six men in four canoes, who intended to attempt to get beyond by rowing. [footnote : it is only in long. ° ' w. from greenwich; that in the text, from computation or dead reckoning, being considerably erroneous in excess.--e.] the th december we sailed to the isles of _chametly_, eighteen leagues to the east of cape corientes. these are five small low and woody islands, surrounded with rocks, and lying in form of a half-moon a mile from the shore, having safe anchorage in the intermediate space. these isles are inhabited by fishers, who are servants to some of the inhabitants of _purification_, a considerable town or city fourteen leagues up the country.[ ] we anchored at these isles on the th, and here provided ourselves with wood and water, and caught great abundance of rock-fish. next day sixty of our men were sent under captain townley to surprise an indian village, seven or eight leagues to the n.w. [footnote : villa de la purificacion is considerably to the s.e. of cape corientes, but the isles of chametly are omitted in modern maps. puerto de navidad, in lat. ° ' n. seems the haven belonging to purificacion.--e.] on the th the four canoes left by captain townley's bark returned to the ships. they had got beyond the cape by means of rowing to the valley of _valderas_, or _val d' iris_, the valley of flags, at the bottom of a deep bay, inclosed between cape corientes on the s.e. and point _pontique_ on the n.w. in this delightful valley they landed thirty-seven men, who advanced three miles into the country, and were attacked by spaniards, horse and foot. our men retreated into an adjoining wood, whence they kept up a heavy fire on the spaniards, killing their leader and fourteen troopers, besides wounding a great many, while four of our men were slain and two wounded. owing to this loss the spaniards took to flight, and our people were enabled to re-embark. this valley is about three leagues broad, and is bounded towards the inland country by an easy ascent, affording a delightful prospect of extensive pastures well stored with cattle, interspersed with pleasant groves of guavas, orange-trees, and lime-trees. the sandy bay affords a safe landing, and has a fresh-water river, navigable by boats, but becomes brackish in the end of the dry season, which is in february, march, and april. we continued cruizing off cape corientes till the st january, , when we sailed for the valley of _valderas_, proposing to provide ourselves with some beef, of which we were in great need. at night we anchored in sixty fathoms, a mile from shore. on the th we landed men, fifty of whom were kept together in a body to watch the motions of the spaniards, while the rest were employed in providing cattle. we killed and salted as much beef as would serve us for two months, and might have procured a great deal more if we had not run out of salt. by this time our hopes of meeting the manilla ship were entirely vanished, as we concluded she had got past us to the s.e. while we were employed in procuring provisions, which we afterwards learnt had been the case, by the information of several prisoners. the loss of this rich prize was chiefly owing to captain townley, who insisted on taking the lima ship in the harbour of acapulco, when we ought to have provided ourselves with beef and maize, as we might then have done, instead of being now forced to procure provisions at the critical time of her coming on the coast. we were likewise deceived by the hope of falling in with rich towns and mines on this coast, not then knowing that all the wealth of this country is in the interior. seeing that we were now entirely disappointed in our hopes, we parted company, captain townley going back to the s.e. while we in captain swan's ship went to the west. the th january we passed point pontique in lat. ° ' n. ten leagues from cape corientes, being the n.w. point of this bay of the valley of valderas. a league beyond this point to the w. there are two little isles called the _pontiques_, and beyond these to the north the shore is rugged for eighteen leagues. the th we came to anchor in a channel between the continent and a small white rocky isle, in lat. ° '. the th we anchored a league short of the isles of _chametly_, different from those formerly mentioned under the same name, being six small isles in lat ° ' n. three leagues from the continent.[ ] one or two of these isles have some sandy creeks, and they produce a certain fruit called _penguins_. these are of two sorts, one red and the other yellow. the plant producing the latter is as thick in the stem as a man's arm, with leaves six inches long and an inch broad, edged with prickles. the fruit grows in clusters at the top of the stem, being round and as large as an egg, having a thick rind, inclosing a pulp full of black seeds, of a delightful taste. the red penguin grows directly out of the ground, without any stalk, sometimes sixty or seventy in a cluster, no bigger than onions, but the shape of nine-pins, the cluster being surrounded with prickly leaves eighteen inches or two feet long. [footnote : in modern maps these are called the isles of _mazatlan_, and are placed in lat. ° ' n. the name given in the text appears taken from a town on this coast called charmela, in lat ° ' n. but improperly.--e.] captain swan went with men in canoes to the north, to find out the river _culiacan_, supposed to be in lat. ° n.[ ] and said to have a fair and rich town of the same name on its banks; but after rowing thirty leagues he could not find the river, neither was there any safe landing place on the coast. seven leagues n.n.w. from the chametla or mazatlan isles, our men landed in a small lake or river, having a narrow entrance, called _rio de sal_ by the spaniards, in lat. ° ' n.[ ] they here procured some maize at an adjacent farm; and learnt at another landing place of an indian town five leagues distant, to which they marched. coming near the place we were encountered by a good number of spaniards and indians, who were soon beat off. on entering the place we only found two or three wounded indians, who told us the town was named _mazatlan_, and that there were two rich gold-mines at the distance of five leagues. [footnote : the mouth of the river of cullacan is in ° ' n. and the town of that name is about eighty-five or ninety statute miles up the river, supposed to have been an ancient seat of the mexican nation, before their removal to the vale and lake of mexico.--e.] [footnote : the rio rastla de panuco, in ° ' n. is certainly here meant.--e.] on the d february men were landed in the river _rosario_.[ ] we came to a pretty little town of the same name, a considerable way up that river, where we were assured by some prisoners that the gold-mines were not above two leagues from thence; but as we had present occasion for provisions, we carried about ninety bushels of maize on board from this place, without searching for the mines. as this small supply was insufficient for our necessities, we resolved to return to the s.e. to the _rio san jago_,[ ] where we anchored on the th. this is one of the most considerable rivers on the west coast of new spain. the country having a good appearance, captain swan sent seventy men to look for a town. after rowing up and down for two days, they landed in a corn field, and, while busy in gathering maize, they seized an indian, who told them of a town called _santa pecaque_, four leagues farther. [footnote : the mouth of this river is in lat. ° n. about fifty miles s.e. from cape mazatlan, where dampier seems to have been then at anchor among the mazatlan isles.--e.] [footnote : so called by dampier from the town of st jago on its banks. its proper name is the _rio grande_, or river of _tololotlan_. the mouth of this river forms a large bay, in lat ° ' n. in which is the considerable island of st blas.--e.] returning to the ship with this intelligence, captain swan went with men in eight canoes, and landed five leagues up the river, which was there about a pistol shot across with high banks. he marched from thence through fertile plains and woods for three or four hours, and on approaching st pecaque the spaniards evacuated the place, so that we entered unopposed. this town is situated in a spacious plain on the side of a wood, being neatly built, with a market-place in the middle, but not large, and has two churches. there are silver-mines five or six leagues from this town, the ore from which is carried on mules to compostella to be refined. _compostella_, the capital of this part of mexico, is twenty-one leagues from _pecaque_, being inhabited by seventy families of spaniards, and by five or six hundred mulattoes and indians. finding great plenty of maize, sugar, salt, and salt fish at this place, captain swan divided his men into two parts, one of which kept possession of the place, while the other half were employed to carry these articles to the canoes, which was done turn and turn about, with the assistance of some horses. we continued this work for two days; but on the th captain swan learnt from a prisoner that men had marched from st jago, a rich town three leagues from pecaque on the river, for the purpose of attacking us. on this captain swan wanted our people to march altogether with what provisions we could carry; but they refused to obey him till all the provisions should be carried on board, and he was forced to allow half of them to go on with fifty-four loaded horses. they had not gone a mile from pecaque when they were attacked by the spaniards from an ambush, and were all slain on the spot. captain swan marched to their relief, but came too late, finding the whole party slain and stripped naked; yet the spaniards never once attempted to engage him, having certainly paid dear for their victory. returning on board with the rest of his men, and what provisions had been carried off, captain swan resolved to sail for cape lucas in california, in hopes of trafficking with the indians there and in the _lake_ or gulf of california. we accordingly sailed on the st with the wind at n.w. and w.n.w. and anchored at the islands of _santa maria_, in eight fathoms on clean sand. there are three islands, usually called the _three marias_,[ ] stretching fourteen leagues from s.e. to n.w. of moderate height, stony, barren, and uninhabited, in lat ° ' n. [long. ° ' w.] from which cape st lucas in california is forty leagues w.n.w. and cape corientes twenty leagues e.s.e. we anchored off the east end of the middle island, which we called prince george's island. these islands produce some cedars, and we found near the sea a green prickly plant, with leaves like those of the _penguin_ plant, and roots like those of the _sempervivum_, but much longer, the indians of california subsisting mostly on these roots. we baked and eat some of these roots, which tasted like boiled burdock roots. i had been long afflicted with dropsy, and was here buried in the sand for half an hour, covered up to the neck, which brought on a profuse sweat, and i believe with good effect, for i began to recover soon after. we careened here; but as there is no fresh water to be had at this place in the dry season, we had to return to the valley of valderas, but finding the river brackish we sailed three leagues nearer cape corientes, and anchored beside a small round isle four leagues north of that cape, and half a mile from the shore, opposite to a rivulet on the continent, where we filled our water casks. [footnote : in reality _four_, the fourth or most northwesterly, being named st juanica.--e.] being now sufficiently convinced of our mistaken notion of the riches of this coast, founded on an erroneous idea that the commerce of this country was carried on by sea, whereas it is entirely conducted by land on mules, we now resolved to try our fortune in the east indies. with this view we sailed from cape corientes on the st march, and next noon, being thirty leagues from the cape, clear of the land-winds, we had the wind at e.n.e. in which direction it continued till we were within forty leagues of guam. in all this long passage across the pacific, nearly in the lat. of ° n. we saw neither fish nor fowl except once, when by my reckoning we were miles west from cape corientes in mexico, and then we saw a vast number of _boobies_, supposed to come from some rocks not far off, which are laid down in some hydrographical charts, but we saw them not. may th, at four p.m. being in lat. ° ' n. and steering w. we discovered, to our great joy, the island of guam, eight leagues off, having now only three-days provisions left. _guam_ is one of the ladrones, in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. consequently its meridional distance from cape corientes on the coast of mexico is ° ', or about english miles. it is twelve leagues long by four broad, extending north and south, and is defended by a small fort mounted by six guns, and a garrison of thirty men with a spanish governor, for the convenience of the manilla ships, which touch here for refreshments on their voyage from acapulco to manilla. the soil is tolerably fertile, producing rice, pine-apples, water and musk melons, oranges, limes, cocoa-nuts, and bread-fruit. this last grows on a tree as big as our apple-trees, with dark green leaves. the fruit is round and as large as a good penny-loaf,[ ] growing on the boughs like apples. when ripe it turns yellow, with a soft and sweet pulp; but the natives pull it green, and bake it in an oven till the rind grows black. they scrape off the rind, and the inside is soft and white, like the crumb of new-baked bread, having neither seed nor stone; but it grows harsh if kept twenty-four hours. as this fruit is in season for eight months in the year, the natives use no other bread in all that time, and they told us there was plenty of it in all the other ladrone islands. [footnote : this vague description may now safely be changed to the size of a three-penny, or even four-penny loaf--e.] on the st may we came to anchor near the middle of the west side of this isle, a mile from shore, as there is no anchoring on its east side on account of the trade-winds, which force the waves with great violence against that side. the natives are of a copper-colour, strong-limbed, with long black hair, small eyes, high noses, thick lips, white teeth, and stern countenances, yet were very affable to us. they are very ingenious in building a certain kind of boats, called _proas_, used all over the east indies. these are about twenty-six or twenty-eight feet long, and five or six feet high from the keel, which is made of the trunk of a tree like a canoe, sharp at both ends. they manage these boats with a paddle instead of a rudder, and use a square sail, and they sail with incredible swiftness, twenty or even twenty-four miles in an hoar. one side of these boats is quite flat and upright like a wall from end to end, but the other side is rounded and full-bellied like other vessels. along this side, parallel with the boat, at the distance of six or seven feet, a log of light wood, a foot and a half wide, and sharp at both ends, is fastened by means of two bamboos eight or ten feet long, projecting from each end of the main boat, and this log prevents the boat from oversetting. the english call this an out-lier, or out-rigger, and the dutch _oytlager_. the air of this island is accounted exceedingly healthy, except in the wet season between june and october. the indians inhabit small villages on the west side of this island near the shore, and have priests among them to instruct them in the christian religion. by means of a civil letter from captain swan to the spanish governor, accompanied by some presents, we obtained a good supply of hogs, cocoa-nuts, rice, biscuits, and other refreshments, together with fifty pounds of manilla tobacco. learning from one of the friars that the island of _mindanao_, inhabited by mahometans, abounded in provisions, we set sail from guam on the d june with a strong e. wind, and arrived on the st at the isle of st john, one of the _philippines_. these are a range of large islands reaching from about the latitude of ° to about ° n. and from long. ° to ° ' e. the principal island of the group is _luzon_, or luçonia, in which magellan was slain by a poisoned arrow, and which is now entirely subject to the spaniards. their capital city of manilla is in this island, being a large town and sea-port, seated at the south-west end, opposite to the island of mindora, and is a place of great strength and much trade, especially occasioned by the acapulco ships, which procure here vast quantities of india commodities, brought hither by the chinese and portuguese, and sometimes also by stealth by the english from fort st george or madras; for the spaniards allow of no regular trade here to the english and dutch, lest they should discover their weakness, and the riches of these islands, which abound in gold. to the south of luzon there are twelve or fourteen large islands, besides a great number of small isles, all inhabited by, or subject to, the spaniards. but the two most southerly, mindanao and st john, are not subjected by the spaniards. the island of st john, or _san juan_, is about the lat. of ° n. on the east side of mindanao, and about four leagues from that island, being about thirty-eight leagues in length from n.n.w. to s.s.e. and about twenty-four leagues broad in the middle, having a very rich and fertile soil. _mindanao_, next to luzon, is the largest of the philippines, being sixty leagues long by forty or fifty leagues broad. its southern end is in lat. ° ' n. the n.w. extremity reaching to ° ' n. the soil is generally fertile, and its stony hills produce many kinds of trees, most of which are unknown to europeans. the vallies are supplied with brooks and rivulets, and stored with various sorts of ever-green trees, and with rice, water-melons, plantains, bananas, guavas, nutmegs, cloves, betel-nuts, _durians, jacks_, or _jackas_, cocoa-nuts, oranges, &c.; but, above all, by a species of tree called _libby_ by the natives, which produces sago, and grows in groves several miles in length. the poorer people feed on sago instead of bread for several months of the year. this tree resembles the cabbage-tree, having a strong bark and hard wood, the heart of which is full of a white pith, like that of the elder. they cut down the tree and split it open, taking out the pith, which they stamp or beat well in a mortar, after which, putting it into a cloth, and pouring in water, they stir it well, till the water carries all the farinaceous substance through the cloth into a trough. after the farinaceous matter has settled to the bottom, the water is poured off, and the sago is baked into cakes, which they use as bread. the sago, which is carried from hence to other parts of the east indies, is dried into small grains, and is used with milk of almonds as a remedy against fluxes, being of an astringent quality. the other fruits of this island, being well known or described by various authors, need not be here mentioned. the nutmegs here are very large and good, but the natives do not care for propagating them, being afraid lest the dutch, who monopolize the spice islands, should be induced to pay them a hostile visit. this island also produces abundance of animals, both wild and tame, as horses, cows, buffaloes, goats, wild hogs, deer, monkeys, and others; also guanas, lizards, snakes, scorpions, and centipeds. these last are not thicker than a goose-quill, but five inches long, and they sting fiercer even than scorpions. of tame fowl, they have only ducks and hens; but have plenty of wild birds, as pigeons, parrots, parrakeets, turtle-doves, bats as large as our kites, and an infinite number and variety of small birds. their wild hogs feed in the woods in prodigious herds, and have thick knobs growing over their eyes. there are mountains in the interior of this island, which afford considerable quantities of gold. their chief fish are bonitos, snooks, cavallies, breams, and mullets; and they have abundance of sea-tortoises; and the island has many harbours, creeks, and rivers. considering the situation of this island, so near the line, its climate is by no means excessively hot, especially near the sea, where the sea-breeze cools the air by day and the land-breeze at night. the wind blows from the east between october and may, and then blows from the west till october. the west wind produces the wet season, which is heaviest in july and august, and, gradually lessening in september, ceases in october, when the east wind brings fair weather, which lasts till may. the inhabitants of this island, though all resembling each other in colour and stature, and all mahometans, differ considerably in language and government. the mountaineers, or _hillanoons_, who inhabit the interior, and are masters of the gold-mines, are also rich in bees-wax, both of which they exchange with the _mindanayans_ on the coast for foreign commodities. the _sologus_ inhabit the n.w. end of the island, and traffic with the inhabitants of manilla and some other adjacent islands, but not with the mindanayans. the _alfoores_ were formerly under the same government with the mindanayans, but were separated from them by falling to the share of the younger children of the sultan of mindanao, who has of late laid claim to their allegiance. the mindanayans, properly so called, are of low stature, with small limbs, little heads, straight bodies, small eyes short noses, wide mouths, thin red lips, and sound black teeth, having black lank hair, and tawny complexions, but rather brighter than other indians. they are ingenious and nimble, much addicted to indolence, obliging to strangers, but implacable when once disobliged. they wear turbans on their heads, formed of a cloth tied once round, the ends of which hang down, and are ornamented with lace or fringe. they also wear breeches, over which they have a kind of frocks, but have neither shoes nor stockings. the women tie their long black hair in a knot, which hangs down behind, being smaller featured than the men, with very small feet. their garments consist of a piece of cloth sewed together at both ends, forming a kind of petticoat, with a frock reaching a little below the waist. they covet the acquaintance of white men, and are very free with them, as far as they have liberty. when any strangers arrive at the city of mindanao, the men come aboard and invite them to their houses, where they immediately ask if any of them wish to have a _pagally_, or female friend, which they must accept, and return the favour by some small present, which is repeated from time to time, in return for which they eat, drink, and sleep, in their friend's house. the capital is named mindanao, like the island, being on the south-west side, two miles from the sea, on the bank of a small river, in lat. ° n. the houses are built on posts, fourteen to twenty feet high, consisting only of one floor, but divided in many rooms by partitions. the house or palace of the sultan rests on great posts, being much higher than any of the others, and had great broad stairs leading up to it from the ground. in the hall there were twenty pieces of iron cannon upon field carriages, and the general and other great men have also some cannon in their houses. the floors are generally well covered with mats, and they have no chairs, but usually sit cross-legged. their ordinary food is rice, sago, and some small fish; but the better people use buffaloe beef, and fowl, with a great deal of rice, every one using their fingers, as they have no spoons. the inhabitants of the city of mindanao speak both the mindanayan and malay languages, and their prayers are in arabic, in which also they retain some turkish words. some of the old people of both sexes can speak spanish, as the spaniards had formerly several forts in the island, and had assuredly reduced the whole if they had not been afraid of an attack from the chinese at manilla, on which account they withdrew their troops from mindanao, when the father of the present sultan laid hold of the opportunity to gain possession of their forts, and to expel them from the island. at present they are most in fear of the dutch, for which reason they have often invited the english to make a settlement among them, believing them not so ready to encroach as either of the other nations. the chief trades in this city are goldsmiths, blacksmiths, carpenters, and shipwrights, for they build good ships both for war and trade. their chief commodities for export are gold, bees-wax, and tobacco; the two first being purchased from the mountaineers, and the last grows in all parts of the island in great plenty. they exchange these commodities for calicoes, muslins, and china silks. the mindanao tobacco is reckoned as good as that of manilla, and yet ten or twelve pounds of it may be bought for a rial, or the eighth part of a dollar. the natives are generally afflicted with a dry itchy scurf all over their bodies, and by scratching, the skin peels off in small white flakes, like the scales of small fish, leaving broad white spots all over their bodies; but they did not seem to make any great account of this disease, which is not infectious. they are also troubled with small-pox; but their most common diseases are fevers, agues, fluxes, and violent griping pains in their bowels. they have many wives, but i could not learn their marriage ceremonies. they are governed by a sultan, who has no great revenue, yet is so absolute that he even commands the private purse of every one at his pleasure. the reigning sultan was between fifty and sixty years old, and had twenty-nine concubines besides his wife or sultana. when he goes abroad he is carried in a couch on the shoulders of four men, and is attended by a guard of eight or ten men. his brother, named rajah laut, a shrewd person of good conversation, is both chief minister and general, and both speaks and writes spanish very readily. in war they use swords and lances, and every one, from the highest to the lowest, constantly wears a _criss_ or dagger, much like a bayonet. they never fight any pitched battles, but construct small wooden forts defended by guns, whence the adverse parties endeavour to surprise each other in small parties, and never give or take quarter. we came first to anchor on the n.e. side of the island, but learning from the natives that the city of mindanao was on the w. side, we again set sail and anchored on the th july on the s.w. side of a very deep bay in fifteen fathoms, the land within the bay on the e. side being very high and woody, but watered by several rivers. on its w. side, bordering on the sea, there were large plains covered with long grass, on which were vast herds of deer, of which we killed as many as we thought fit. we remained here till the th, when we again set sail, and arrived on the th at the entrance of the river of mindanao, in lat. ° n. and long. ° ' e. from greenwich.[ ] we here anchored in fifteen fathoms on clean hard sand, two miles from the shore. soon afterwards rajah laut came on board, accompanied by one of the sultan's sons, and asked in spanish, who we were? being told we were english, he asked if we came to settle among them, of which they had formerly some promise, and were now in hopes of its being effected, to serve to protect them against the dutch, whom they greatly dreaded. had we properly considered the matter, it might have been much for our advantage, mindanao being conveniently situated between the spice islands and the philippines, and besides the three islands of _meangis_,[ ] only about twenty leagues from hence, abound with spice and cloves. we were also well filled for such a settlement, having among our company all manner of artificers, as carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, tailors, and the like, as also abundance of tools, arms, cannon, and sufficient ammunition to begin with; and, notwithstanding the great distance from england, we might easily have had supplies from thence, providing ships set out the latter end of august, proceeding round cape horn, and so directly across the pacific for mindanao, or else coasting along the western shore of america as far as was necessary, and then stretching across to have the advantage of the trade-wind. by this way the voyage might be accomplished in six or seven months, which would at least require eight or nine by the cape of good hope. [footnote : in harris, this longitude is made ° ' w. from the lizard by some strange error, being ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] [footnote : it does not appear what islands these were, unless perhaps the silibabo islands, about half way between mindanao and the northern end of gilolo, but considerably farther distant than is stated in the text.--e.] rajah laut invited captain swan ashore, and promised to furnish what provisions we wanted, and desired him in the mean time to secure our ship within the river, for fear of the approaching westerly monsoon, which captain swan agreed to after some deliberation. the river being narrow, and having not above eleven feet water on the bar in spring-tides, we had much ado to get our ship a quarter of a mile above its mouth, where we moored head and stern in a hole, so that she lay always afloat. the city of mindanao is a mile in length, but not very broad, stretching along the right bank of the river as you go up, though there are some houses also on the opposite side. the inhabitants frequently came aboard of our ship, and invited our men to their houses, where they were kindly entertained after their manner with tobacco and betel, and such of them as had money, or other articles of value, did not want their _pagalies_, or female friends. captain swan was entertained daily by rajah laut, and those of our men who had no money had boiled rice, with scraps of fowl and buffalo beef given them. yet, after all these outward shews of friendship, we soon after began to discover that rajah laut had sinister intentions. the sheathing on our ship's bottom being much eaten by worms, we began in november to remove the old sheathing, to see whether the main plank remained sound; on seeing which, rajah laut shook his head, saying he had never seen a ship with two bottoms. besides, he did not perform his promise of providing us with beef, pretending he could not get any; and he borrowed a considerable sum in gold from captain swan, which he never repaid. these circumstances at length induced most of our men to think of leaving mindanao, especially those who had not much money; and as our ship was new sheathed and tallowed on the th december, they began to urge our commander to depart in continuation of our voyage. accordingly, captain swan appointed the th january, , for all our company to be on board and ready to sail; but many being unwilling to depart so soon, having dispersed about the country at the instigation of rajah laut, and even captain swan not being very ready to come aboard, by reason of some insubordination among the men, they deposed him from the command, and chose captain teat in his room. after this we weighed in the morning of the th january, and sailed out of the river, having captain swan and forty-four more of the men on shore, besides sixteen others we had buried there. we coasted along the south side of the island to the west, and passed next day in sight of _chambungo_,[ ] another town in this island, thirty leagues west from the river of mindanao, and said to have a good harbour. on the th february we coasted along the west side of the philippine islands, and while passing panga,[ ] a large island inhabited by the spaniards, we saw many fires, which we supposed were intended to give notice of our approach, it being rare to see a ship on this coast. the th we anchored in ten fathoms at the n.w. end of the island of _mindora_. this is a large island, the middle of which is in lat ° ' n. its length from n.w. to s.e. being forty leagues. while here, a canoe with four indians came from manilla, who told as that the harbour of manilla was seldom without twenty or thirty vessels, chinese, portuguese, and spaniards, and if we had a mind to trade clandestinely, they would deliver letters from us to certain merchants there. [footnote : probably sambuang, at the western extremity of mindanao, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' e. from greenwich.--e.] [footnote : pany, or panai.--e.] we sailed again on the st, and came on the d to the s.e. end of luçonia, where we took two spanish barks from _pagassanam_,[ ] a small town on the n.e. part of this island, having goods on board for the acapulco ship. this great island of luçonia extends in length through six degrees of latitude, from ° ' to ° ' both n. and is surrounded by many small isles, especially at its north end, mindora being the chief of these isles, which communicates its name to the straits which run between it and the main island of luçonia. the surface of this large island is partly composed of large pasture plains, and partly of mountains, the latter of which afford some gold; and the plains, or savannahs, are stored with buffaloes, bullocks, horses, sheep, goats, and hogs. the inhabitants are indians, who live in little towns, under the spanish jurisdiction, and are instructed in the romish religion by spanish priests. [footnote : perhaps the gulf on pangasian is here meant, on the e. side of luzon, in lat. ° n.] _manilla_ is the chief city, or rather the only one, in the island, seated at the foot of a ridge of high hills, fronting the harbour, near the s.w. point of the island, in lat. ° ' n: this city is defended by a strong wall, and is composed of well-built spacious houses, covered with pan-tiles, the streets being broad and regular, with a large market-place in the middle, and has many fair churches and convents. the harbour is large; and, besides the two great acapulco ships, contains abundance of small vessels belonging to the place, besides usually thirty or forty stout chinese junks; and the portuguese also have liberty to trade to this place. many chinese merchants also reside constantly in this city. a league from the city, nearer the sea, there is a strong fortress to defend the harbour, where the great ships lie at anchor. most of this account i received from mr coppinger, our surgeon, who had formerly been thither, sailing from the coromandel coast. the time of the year being now too far spent for our purpose, we resolved to sail for pulo condore, a knot of small islands on the coast of cambodia, and to return in may to lie in wait for the acapulco ship. we accordingly made sail from the island of luçonia on the th of february; and coming into the lat. of ° n. we steered our course w. for pulo condore,[ ] and in our way got sight of the south end of the _pracel_ shoals, being three small isles, or large spots of sand, just above water, only a mile from us. we came in sight of pulo condore on the th march, and anchored next day on the north side of that island, in ten fathoms, on clean hard sand, two miles from the shore. [footnote : this course ought rather to have been called w.s.w. as pulo condore is lat. ° ' n.] pulo condore is the chief of a group of isles, and the only one of them that is inhabited, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' e. forty leagues s. by e. from the mouth of the river of cambodia, otherwise called the _japanese_ river. two of these isles are tolerably high and large, and the rest very small. the principal isle, off which we anchored, is five leagues long from e. to w. and three leagues broad, but in some places not a mile. the other large isle is three miles long from n. to s. and between these, at the west end of the largest, there is a convenient harbour, the entrance being on the north, where the two isles are a mile asunder. on the largest isle there grows a tall tree, three or four feet diameter, which the inhabitants cut horizontally half through, a foot from the ground, after which they cut out the upper part in a slope, till it meets the transverse cut, whence a liquor distils into a hollow made in the semicircular shelf, or stump, which, after being boiled, becomes good tar, and if boiled still more, becomes perfect pitch, both of these answering well for marine use. such a tree produces two quarts of this juice daily for a month, after which it dries up, but recovers again. there are mango trees in this island, the fruit of which the inhabitants pickle with salt, vinegar, and a little garlic, while green. on straight trees of a foot diameter, grapes, both red and white, and of a pleasant taste, much like those of europe, grow in clusters about the body of the tree, like the cocoas. this isle also abounds in wild nutmeg-trees, which resemble our walnut-trees, and the fruit grows among the boughs, in the same manner as walnuts. this fruit resembles the true nutmeg, but smaller, and has neither smell nor taste. besides hogs, guanas, and lizards, these islands have various birds, as parrots, parakeets, turtle-doves, and wild poultry. the sea affords limpits, muscles, and tortoises. these isles have many brooks of fresh water running into the sea for ten months of the year; and they are very conveniently situated for trade with japan, china, manilla, tonquin, cochin-china, and other places. the inhabitants are originally from cochin-china, being of a middle stature and well shaped, but of much darker colour than the natives of mindanao, having lank black hair, small black eyes, and small noses, yet tolerably high, with small mouths, thin lips, and white teeth. they are civil, but very poor, their only employment being to collect tar, and to prepare a little oil from tortoises, both of which they export to cochin-china. they offer their women to strangers for a small matter; a custom universal in pegu, siam, cochin-china, cambadia, tonquin, and india, as also on the coast of guinea. they are pagans, worshipping chiefly the elephant and the horse, besides images of birds and fishes, but i saw none resembling the human shape. having careened our ship, and laid in a supply of fresh water, we sailed from pulo condore on the st of april, steering w. by s. for the bay of siam, and on the d came to the isle of _ubi_, off the s.w. cape of cambadia, forty leagues w. of condore. this isle is seven or eight leagues in circuit, and is higher land than any of the condore isles. it has good water on the north side, where there is also good anchorage, but the best anchorage is on the w. side, opposite a small bay. on the th we entered the bay of siam, which is very deep, and went among the islands at the bottom of the bay, in one of which we found a small village inhabited by fishermen, but no fish, so we turned back, and did not return to the isle of _ubi_ till the th, and were detained there by storms till the st, when we sailed for condore, where we anchored on the th. here five or six of our men, going on board a malay vessel, were stabbed by the crew. having provided our ship with wood and water, we sailed from condore on the th june, intending to proceed for manilla; but, by contrary winds, were forced to steer for _pratas_, a small low island inclosed with rocks, in lat. ° n. between canton and manilla; and the east winds continuing, were obliged to approach the coast of china, where we anchored on the th june, at the east end of the island of st john, on the coast of quan-tong, or canton, in china, in lat. ° ' n.[ ] they have here great plenty of rice, with hogs, buffaloes, goats, and some oxen. the inhabitants were chinese, and were consequently, at this time, under the dominion of the tartars. [footnote : this island of st john is probably that named sancianor, or tchang-te-huen, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' e. to the s.w. of the bay of canton. the latitude in the text would lead deep among the islands of that bay, which does not appear to have been the case.--e.] in this island we found a small town in marshy ground, the houses of which were small, mean, and ill-furnished, but built on posts, the inhabitants principally subsisting by the cultivation of rice. while we lay here at anchor, a chinese junk rode beside us, which was flat both at the head and stern, having many little huts, three feet high, on her deck, thatched with palmito leaves. her cabin was large, having an altar, on which was a lamp continually burning. the hold was divided into several compartments, the bulkheads between which were so tight, that if a leak should spring in any of these divisions, the goods in the others would receive no damage. every merchant has his own room, or division, in the hold, in which he stows his own goods, sometimes lodging along with them. these junks have only two masts, a main and fore, the latter having a square-sail and yard, and the former a sail that is narrow aloft, like a sloop's main-sail. in fine weather they have also a top-sail, which, in foul weather, they lower to the deck, yard and all. the main-mast of one of their largest junks is equal in size to that of our third-rate men of war, but all of one piece, not built. fearing the approach of a storm, and wanting sea-room, we weighed on the d june, and stood out to sea; but next day we were assailed by the most violent tempest at n.e. i ever saw, which lasted at intervals for three days, when the weather became quite serene. we then refitted our ship, but our men were so terrified by the last storm, and dreading the approach of full moon, that we resolved to steer for the _pescadores_, or _fisher isles_, in lat. ° ' n. off the western side of _tai-ouan_, or formosa. this is a numerous group of islands in the straits of formosa, having a good harbour between the two eastermost; and on the west side of the most easterly there is a large town with a fort, in which was a garrison of tartars. the houses in this town were low, yet neatly built; and on the other island, on the west side of the harbour, there was another small town near the sea, inhabited by chinese. most of the islands in this group have some chinese inhabitants. we were very civilly treated by the tartar governor, who sent us some presents, and among the rest a heifer, the beef of which was excellent; but would not allow us to trade, or even to land on the isle. we sailed thence on the th july, passing the s.w. end of formosa, a large island reaching from lat. ° to ° ' both n. and in long. ° e. it was formerly well inhabited by the chinese, and frequented by the english; but the tartars have since spoiled the harbour, lest the chinese should fortify themselves there. on the th august we came to anchor on the east side of the northermost of the _five islands_, or _bashees_, in fifteen fathoms. these islands are from the latitude of ° ' to ° ' both n. and long. ° ' e. contrary to our expectations, we found three or four large towns on the island at which we anchored. the westmost of these islands, which the dutch among us named _orange_ isle, is the largest, being seven or eight leagues from n. to s. and two from e. to w. there are two other large islands to the s. of this; the northern of which we named _grafton_ isle, which is four leagues from n. to s. and a league and a half from e. to w. the other, and most southerly, we named _monmouth_ isle, being three leagues from n. to s. and one from e. to w. two other isles, lying e. and w. between monmouth isle and the s. end of orange isle, we called _bashee_ isle, from a certain liquor we drank there, and _goat_ isle. _orange_ isle is the largest, but barren, rocky, and uninhabited, and has no anchorage on its coasts. _monmouth_ and _grafton_ isles are both hilly, but well inhabited. _goat_ isle and _bashee_ isle are flat, the former having a town. the hills in all these isles are rocky; but the intermediate vallies are fertile in grass, plantains, bananas, pine-apples, pompions, sugar-canes, potatoes, and some cotton, and are well supplied with brooks of fresh water. they are also well stored with goats and hogs, but have hardly any fowls, either wild or tame. the natives are short and thick, with round faces and thick eye-brows, with hazel-coloured eyes, rather small, yet larger than those of the chinese. their noses are short and low; their mouths and lips middle-sized, with white teeth; and their hair is thick, black, and lank, which they cut short. their complexion is of a dark copper colour, and they go all bare-headed, having for the most part no clothes, except a clout about the middle, though some have jackets of plantain leaves, as rough as a bear-skin. the women have a short petticoat of coarse calico, reaching a little below the knees, and both sexes wear ear-rings of a yellow metal dug from their mountains, having the weight and colour of gold, but somewhat paler. whether it be in reality gold or not, i cannot say, but it looked of a fine colour at first, which afterwards faded, which made us suspect it, and we therefore bought very little. we observed that the natives smeared it with a red earth, and then made it red-hot in a quick fire, which restored its former colour. the houses of the natives are small, and hardly five feet high, collected into villages on the sides of rocky hills, and built in three or four rows, one above the other. these rocky precipices are framed by nature into different ledges, or deep steps of stairs as it were, on each of which they build a row of houses, ascending from one row to another by means of ladders in the middle of each row, and when these are removed they are inaccessible. they live mostly by fishing, and are very expert in building boats, much like our deal yawls. they have also larger vessels, rowed by twelve or fourteen oars, two men to each bank. they never kill any goats themselves, but feed on the guts and skins, which last they broil after singing off the hair.[ ] they also make a dish of locusts, which come at certain seasons to devour their potatoes; on which occasions they catch these insects in nets, and broil or bake them in earthen pans, when they are tolerable eating. their ordinary drink is water; but they make also a kind of liquor of the juice of sugar-canes, boiled up with black-berries, allowed afterwards to ferment four or five days in jars. it then settles and becomes clear, when it affords a strong and pleasant liquor, which they call _bashee_, resembling our english beer both in taste and colour. i can give no account of their language, as it has no affinity either to chinese or malay. their weapons are lances headed with iron, and they wear a kind of armour of buffalo-hide without sleeves, reaching below their knees, where it is three feet wide, and as stiff as a board, but close at the shoulders. [footnote : this is rather inexplicable, as we cannot conceive how they got the guts and skins without killing the goats.--e.] i could not perceive that they had any worship, neither saw i any idols among them. they seemed to have no government or precedency, except that the children were very respectful to their parents. they seem, however, to be regulated by some ancient customs, instead of laws, as we saw a young lad buried alive, which we supposed was for being guilty of theft. the men have each only one wife, and she and her children were very obedient to the head of the family. the boys are brought up to fishing along with their fathers; and the girls work along with their mothers in the plantations in the vallies, where each family plants a piece of ground proportional to their numbers. they are a civil quiet people, not only among themselves, but in their intercourse with strangers; for all the time we were here, though they came frequently aboard, exchanging their yellow metal, goats, and fruits, for iron, we never saw them differ either among themselves or with our men, though occasions of the latter were not wanting. they have no coins, neither any weights or scales, but give their pieces of yellow metal by guess. during our stay here, we provided ourselves with seventy or eighty fat hogs, and great plenty of potatoes, for our intended voyage to manilla. on the th september, we were forced out to sea by a violent storm, which lasted till the th, when we made the best of our way back to the bashees, which we reached on the st october. this last storm so disheartened our men, that they resolved to give up the design of cruising before manilla; and, by the persuasions of captain read, who now commanded, and captain teat, our master, it was determined to sail for cape comorin, and thence into the red sea. as the eastern monsoon was at hand, our nearest and best way had been to pass through the straits of malacca; but teat persuaded the men to go round by the east side of the philippines, and thence, keeping south of the spice islands, to pass into the indian ocean by the south of timor. we sailed from the bashees on the d october, by the east of the philippines, and on the th, being to the south of luçonia, directed our course west for mindanao. on the th we anchored between two small isles, in lat. ° ' n. four leagues from the island of mindanao. while here, we learnt from a young prince of one of the isles, that captain swan and some of his men were still at mindanao, and in great esteem for their services against the alfoores: but i was since informed, that he and his surgeon, when going on board a dutch ship in the road, were overset by the natives and drowned, by order of rajah laut, as we supposed, who had seized all his gold. we sailed on the d november for celebes, and anchored at its n.e. end on the th. the th, while steering between two shoals, in lat. ° s. ten leagues from celebes, we saw three waterspouts towards evening. a waterspout is a piece of a cloud hanging down in a sloping direction, sometimes bending like a bow, but never perpendicular. opposite to its extremity the sea begins to foam, and the water is then seen gently moving round in a circle, increasing to a rapid whirling motion, rising upwards, an hundred paces in circumference at the bottom, but lessening gradually upwards to the size of a spout, through which the sea-water appears to be conveyed into the cloud, as is manifest by its blackness and increase of bulk. after this the cloud, which was before immoveable, drives along for half an hour, accompanied by the spout. when the sucking is over, and breaks off, all the water which was below the spout, or pendulous cloud, falls again into the sea with a terrible clashing noise. these spouts are, however, more frightful than dangerous. we had sight of the isle of bouton on the st december, and anchored there on the th, where we staid till the th, procuring eggs, fowls, potatoes, and other provisions from the natives, who are mahometans, and speak the malay language. continuing our voyage, we saw the n.w. point of timor on the th, and on the th stood s. towards new holland, which we fell in with on the th january, , in lat. ° ' s. _new holland_ is a vast tract of land, but whether island or continent is hitherto unknown.[ ] we anchored at a point of land, three leagues to the east of which is a deep bay. the land was low and sandy, the points only excepted, which were rocky, as were some islands in the bay. we found here no fresh water, except by digging. there were various trees, and among these the tree producing dragon's-blood. we saw no fruit-trees, nor so much as the track of any animal, except one footstep of a beast, which seemed the size of a large mastiff. there were a few land-birds, but none bigger than a black-bird, and scarcely any sea-fowl; neither did the sea afford any fish, except tortoises and manatees,[ ] both of which are in vast plenty. [footnote : it is now known to be a vast island, stretching from the lat. of ° ' to ° ', both s. and from long. ° ' to ° ' both e. being miles from n. to s. and miles from e. to w.] [footnote : the lamentin, or trichechus manatus australis of naturalists.--e.] the inhabitants are the most miserable wretches in the universe, having no houses or coverings but the heavens, and no garments except a piece of the bark of a tree tied round the waist. they have no sheep, poultry, or fruits, and subsist wretchedly on a few shell-fish, such as cockles, muscles, and periwinkles, living without any government or order, and cohabit promiscuously like brutes. their bodies are straight, thin, and strong-limbed, having great heads and eye-brows, with round foreheads. their eye-lids are constantly half closed, to keep out flies, which are here very numerous and troublesome. they have large bottle noses, thick lips, and wide mouth; and both men and women, young and old, wanted the two front teeth of the upper jaw. they have no beards, and their hair is short and curled like the negroes, their complexion being equally black with them. their weapons are a kind of wooden swords or clubs, and long straight poles sharpened at one end. of their language i can only say that they speak much in the throat. we landed several times, and brought the natives to some degree of familiarity with us, by giving them some old clothes, but could never prevail on them to assist us in carrying water or any other thing, as they seemed quite averse from labour. we sailed hence on the th march, and on the th april got sight of sumatra, whence we directed our course for the nicobar islands, which we came in sight of on the th may, and anchored next day in a small bay at the n. end of the island of nicobar proper, in lat. ° ' n. this island produces plenty of cocoa-nuts, and _mallories_, a fruit as large as the bread-fruit of guam, which the natives boil in covered jars. mr hall, mr ambrose, and i, being desirous to leave the unruly crew among whom we had sailed so long, were set ashore at this island, intending to proceed for acheen. we accordingly left this island on the th may, accompanied by four malays and a portuguese, in a nicobar canoe, not much bigger than one of the london wherries used below bridge. on the th we had a violent storm, when we expected every moment to be swallowed up by the waves; but on the th, to our great joy, we saw _pulo way_, near the n.w. end of sumatra, as was supposed, but it turned out to be the golden mountain of sumatra, and at length arrived at acheen in june. in july i went with captain weldon to tonquin, and returned to acheen in april, . in september of that year i went to malacca, and came back about christmas, . soon after i went to fort st george or madras, where i remained five months, and came back to bencoolen, an english factory on the west coast of sumatra. before relating my return to england, it may be proper to give some account of _jeoly_, the painted prince, who afterwards died at oxford. he was purchased along with his mother at mindanao by mr moody; and when mr moody and i went together to bencoolen, he gave me at parting half the property of this painted prince and his mother, leaving them to my care. they were born in the island of _meangis_, which abounds in gold, cloves, and nutmegs, as he afterwards told me. he was curiously painted, down the breast, behind, between the shoulders, and most of all on the fore part of his thighs, in the nature of flower-work. by what i could understand, this painting was done by pricking the skin, and rubbing in the gum of a tree called _damurer_, used instead of pitch in some parts of india. he told me, that the natives of his country wore gold ear-rings, and golden bracelets about their arms and legs; their food being potatoes, fowls, and fish. he told me also, that being one day in a canoe with his father and mother, they were taken by some fishers belonging to mindanao, who sold them to the interpreter of rajah laut, with whom he and his mother lived as slaves for five years, and were then sold for fifty dollars to mr moody. some time afterwards, mr moody gave me the entire property of both, but the mother soon died, and i had much ado to save the son. after my arrival in the thames, being in want of money, i first sold part of my property in prince jeoly, and by degrees all the rest. he was afterwards carried about and shewn for money, and at last died of the small-pox at oxford. during my stay at bencoolen i served as gunner of the fort; but when my time was expired, i embarked with my painted prince in the defence, captain heath, in order to return to england. we sailed on the th january, , in company with three other ships, and arrived at the cape of good hope in the beginning of april. after a stay of six weeks, we set sail on the th may for st helena, where we arrived on the th june. we left this island on the d july, and came to anchor in the downs on the th september, , after an absence of twelve years and a half from my native country. chapter ix. voyage round the world, by william funnell, in - .[ ] introduction. this voyage has usually passed under the name of captain william dampier; but as he proceeded only to the south seas, and the circumnavigation was entirely completed by mr william funnell, who sailed originally as his mate, it seemed proper to place his name in the title of the voyage, instead of that of captain dampier, with whom, in this voyage, we have much less to do. it is just however to state, that it was on the credit of captain dampier, and in expectation that he would be able to do great things against the spaniards in the south sea, that this expedition was undertaken. the point aimed at was plunder, rather than discovery, yet there was something remarkable done even in this way; and the unknown islands met with by mr funnell, in his passage between the south sea and india, strongly confirmed the reports of former navigators, of large, populous, and well-cultivated countries in those parts.[ ] the narrative of funnell also is well digested, and may be read with much satisfaction, as giving a fair and agreeable account of his adventures. [footnote : funnel's narrative in dampier's voyages, vol. iv. pp. .-- . harris, i. . callender, iii. . and iii. .] [footnote : all these fancies are now shewn to be imaginary.--e.] this expedition was undertaken at the beginning of the succession war, in the reign of queen anne; and high expectations were raised from it, of performing great exploits against the spaniards, who had accepted the duke of anjou as their king. the merchants believed that a very profitable expedition might be made into these parts, with a reasonable force, where the buccaneers, with small and ill-provided vessels, had performed such extraordinary things; and therefore, having obtained the best information they could as to the proper manner of accomplishing the design, they cheerfully contributed to the expences necessary for the purpose. with this view, they at first fitted out two ships of guns and men each, which were designed for the south seas. one of these was named the st george, commanded by captain william dampier, in which mr william funnell sailed as chief mate. the other was the fame, commanded by captain john pulling. both ships were amply supplied with warlike stores, and well victualled for nine months; and had commissions from prince george, the queen's husband, lord-high-admiral, to proceed against the french and spaniards; and the officers and crews of both were hired on the principles of sharing in the expedition, _no purchase no pay_. while they lay in the downs, some difference arose between the two captains, on which captain pulling went away with his ship, the fame, intending to cruize among the canary islands, and never afterwards joined. before sailing on the originally-proposed expedition, dampier was joined by a small ship, the cinque-ports galley, captain charles pickering, of ninety tons, carrying guns and men, well victualled and provided for the voyage. the original plan of the voyage was to go first up the rio plata, as high as buenos ayres, in order to capture two or three spanish galleons, which dampier alledged were usually there. if this part of the expedition succeeded, so as to get to the value of about , _l_. it was to be proceeded in no farther; but if his first object failed, they were then to cruize on the coast of peru, to intercept the ships which bring gold from baldivia to lima. should this again fail of success, they were to attempt some rich towns, as dampier might direct. after this, they were to go to the coast of mexico, at that time of the year when the great galleon usually comes from manilla to acapulco, which is commonly reported to be worth fourteen millions of dollars. on their arrival at madeira, learning that the galleons from buenos ayres had already arrived in safety at teneriffe, that part of the expedition was laid aside. "how well we pursued the latter part of our instructions, the subsequent history of our voyage will sufficiently declare; in recording which i have used the greatest sincerity, narrating every thing exactly in the manner in which it happened, and setting down all that appeared worthy of notice, with all truth and plainness: so that i flatter myself the whole will be found useful, and that the latter part especially will be esteemed new, curious, and interesting, as it contains many things not before published or known."[ ] [footnote : this introduction is from the pen of harris; and the last paragraph, marked by inverted commas, is given in the words of funnell.--e.] section i. _narrative of the voyage, till the separation of funnell from dampier._ we sailed from the downs on the th april, , and anchored on the th may at kinsale, in ireland. we here refitted and victualled our ship, and were joined by the cinque-ports, and left kinsale on the th september. we reached madeira on the th, where we did not come to anchor, but plied off and on for our boats, which were sent ashore for necessaries. by a good observation, i made this island to be in lat ° ' n. and long. by my account, ° ' w. from london.[ ] october th, we saw mayo, one of the cape de verd islands, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. off which we plied all night; but the surf ran so high that we durst not send our boats ashore for salt. we accordingly bore up next day for st jago, and anchored at noon of the th in prior bay [port praya] in that island. this is one of the most fruitful of the cape verd islands, abounding in hogs, poultry, guinea fowl, monkeys, maiz, oranges, lemons, dates, water-melons, plantains, bananas, and other fruits, having good water, but troublesome to get at, and wood is very dear. the inhabitants of this island were formerly portuguese, banished thither for murders, thefts, and other crimes; but are now mostly all black, in consequence of these men having issue by their female slaves, which were guinea negroes. yet they still retain the vices of their progenitors, thieving being more common here than in any place i ever visited, insomuch that they will take a man's hat from his head at noon day and in the midst of company. in trading with them, it is necessary not to let them have your goods before theirs are delivered, or you are sure to lose them. we here watered and refreshed ourselves; and here a disagreement took place between captain dampier and his first-lieutenant, who was turned ashore at midnight, with his chest and servant. at four next morning, being the th october, we sailed from st jago, not fully resolved where next to touch at. [footnote : lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] on the d october we caught four fish; a shark, a dolphin, a jelly-fish, and an old-wife. the shark and dolphin are well known, and need not be described in this place. the _jelly-fish_ was about fourteen inches long and two inches deep, having sharp teeth, a sparkling eye, and long extended mouth. it has a prodigiously high fin on its back, of a slimy substance, except that its rays, which are thirty-two in number, are firm and stiff. it has also one small fin under the throat, of the same slimy substance with the large one on its back. the greater part of the body is of a silver colour, with numerous small dark spots and circular bands, all the rest of its substance being a green jelly-like substance, whence the name. the _old-wife_ is about two feet long and nine inches high in the back, having a small mouth, a large eye, and a large broad fin beginning at the hinder part of the head, and reaching to the tail. it has also a large broad fin on each side near the gills, and a pretty large one under the belly. the body is deep blue, and the fins a very light blue, tipt with yellow. the head has many spots, and the body is regularly streaked longways. we passed the equator on the d november, about forty-five leagues west from the meridian of st jago. on the th, in lat. ° ' s. we saw three small islands on the coast of brazil, called the islands of st ann, not above a stone's throw from each other, and very full of wood, as is the whole coast of brazil. these islands are about four miles from the main, and are much troubled with southerly winds, which blow in gusts, so that ships ought here to lay their best anchor to the south, and all little enough sometimes for their safety. they produce nothing except wood, and are frequented by vast flocks of sea fowl, called boobies by our sailors. the _booby_ is about the size of a duck, some entirely white and others grey, having feet like a duck, and subsist mostly on flying-fishes, which they catch while in the air. i have made many a meal on these birds, but it was for want of other victuals, for they taste very fishy, and are apt to make one sick, if not previously well salted. they are so silly, when weary of flying, that they will light upon your hand, if held out to them. we anchored at the island of _le grand_, in lat, ° ' s.[ ] on the th of november. this is a very woody island, on which are several good springs of water. it is about nine miles in circuit, and three miles from the main, the woods being infested with many savage animals, which make a most hideous noise in the night. it produces sugar, rum, and several kinds of fruits, but all very dear, on account of supplying the town of st paul with necessaries. _st paul_ is miles inland from le grand; but by the vast high mountains which are between, it is reckoned a distance of sixty days journey. near st paul there is said to be a gold mine, which is accounted the richest hitherto known. we here wooded, watered, and refitted our ships; and our new first-lieutenant, falling out with the captain, went ashore, together with eight of our men, and left us. here also charles pickering, captain of the cinque-ports, departed this life, and was succeeded in the command by his first-lieutenant, mr thomas stradling. at this island there are good fish of various sorts, one of which, called the _silver-fish_, is about twenty inches long, and eight deep, from back to belly, having five small fins immediately behind the head, and one large fin from the last of these to the tail; one middle-sized fin on each side near the gills, and a large fin from the middle of the belly to the tail, which last is half-moon shaped. the eyes are large, the nostrils wide, and the mouth small. it is a thin fish, and full of bones, of a fine transparent white, like silver. [footnote : isla grande is only in lat ° n. and st paul's, stated in the text, as miles distant, is hardly , and is at within twenty-five miles of the coast farther south.--e.] leaving the isle of le grand on the th december, we passed the islands of sebalt de weert[ ] [_falklands_] on the th. in lat. ° ' s. we had a terrible storm, in which we lost company of our consort, the cinque-ports, on the th january, . when in lat ° ' s. on the th, believing we had sufficiently passed cape horn, we tacked to the n. and got sight of the island of _mocha_ on the th february. this island is in lat. ° ' s. twenty miles from the coast of chili, and is well inhabited by indians, who are always at war with the spaniards, and indeed with all white men, because they consider them all as spaniards. it is a high island, four leagues long, having many shoals on its west side, which extend a league or more out to sea. it is about miles to the northward of baldivia. [footnote : called sibbil de ward islands in the narrative of funnell.--e.] we saw the island of juan fernandez on the th february, and on the th, while passing the great bay, we saw the cinque-ports, which had arrived three days before. we accordingly anchored in the great bay, in thirty-five fathoms. at this island we wooded, watered, and refitted our ships, giving them a heel to clean their sides as low as we could, which took up much time, and occasioned both companies to be much on shore. in this island there are abundance of cabbage-trees, which are excellent, though small. the cabbage-tree, which is a species of palm, has a small straight stem, often ninety to one hundred feet long, with many knots or joints, about four inches asunder, like a bamboo-cane. it has no leaves except at the top, in the midst of which the substance called cabbage is contained, which, when boiled, is as good as any garden cabbage. the branches of this tree we commonly twelve or thirteen feet in length, and at about a foot and a half from the tree the leaves begin, which are about four feet long and an inch and a half broad, the leaves growing so regularly that the whole branch seems one entire leaf. the cabbage, when cut out from among the roots of the branches, is usually a foot long and six inches diameter, and as white as milk. from the bottom of the cabbage there spring out several large bunches of berries, like grapes, each bunch being five or six pounds weight. the berries are red, and about the size of cherries, each having a large stone in the middle, and the pulp tastes like that of haws. the sea-lion is so called, as i suppose, because he roars somewhat like a lion, and his head also has some resemblance to that animal, having four large teeth in front, all the rest being short, thick, and stubbed. instead of feet and legs, he has four fins; the two foremost serving him, when he goes ashore, to raise the fore part of the body, and he then draws the hind part after him. the two hinder fins are of no use on land, but only when in the water. this animal is very fat, for which reason we killed several of them, from which we made a ton of oil for our lamps; and, while at this island, made use of it also for frying our fish. they have short light-coloured hair while young, becoming sandy when old. their food is fish, and they prey altogether in the water, but come on land to sleep, when five, six, or more of them huddle together like swine, and will often lie still three or four days, if not molested. they are much afraid of men, and make off as fast as they can into the water. if hard pressed, they will turn about, raising their bodies on their fore fins, and face you with their mouths wide open, so that we used to clap a pistol to their mouth, and fire down their throat. sometimes five or six of us would surround one of these monsters, each having a half pike, and so prick him till he died, which commonly was the sport of two or three hours. while we were at this island, a difference took place between captain stradling and his men, which was at last compromised by captain dampier. on the th february we descried a sail, on which all hands hurried on board, and we slipped our cables and stood out to sea. the frenchman, for so he afterwards proved, immediately tacked and stood from us, while we followed the chase with all sail, and got up with him about eleven at night, but did not deem it convenient to engage till day. during the chase our pinnace towed under water, and was cut adrift. captain stradling's boat also got loose, in which were a man and a dog. at sun-rise next morning, st march, we began to engage the french ship, which was of about tons burden, and thirty guns, well manned. we fought her very close, broadside to broadside, for seven hours; and then a small gale springing up, she sheered off. in this action our consort only fired ten or twelve guns at the commencement, when she dropt astern, and never again came up during the whole fight, in which we had nine men slain and several wounded. we were desirous to have had another trial with the frenchman, knowing it would be of bad consequences to let him go, as he would discover our being in these seas to the spaniards; but our captain opposed this, saying, he knew where he could get to the value of , _l_. at any time. so we concluded to return to juan fernandez, to get our anchors, long boats, and several tons of water already casked, together with a ton of sea-lion oil, which we had left there. captain stradling also had left five of his men, who were gone to the west part of the island, and knew nothing of our going away after the enemy. he had also left all his sails, besides those at the yards, and a great many other stores. we had then the wind at s. directly off juan fernandez, so that it was difficult to go there; and while beating up we saw two sail, to which the cinque-ports was very near, and they fired several shots at her, but she rowed away to us, and reported them to be two french ships of about guns each; on which the two captains thought it convenient to bear away for the coast of peru, leaving captain stradling's five men, with his other stores, which he could ill spare, and now we had neither of us any boats. we accordingly stood for the coast of peru on the th march, and fell in with it on the th, in lat. ° ' s.[ ] the land here was very high, having three distinct ranges of hills behind each other, that nearest the water the lowest, and the farthest off the highest. we coasted along shore to the northward, and passed the port of _capaipo_ on the th, said to be a very good harbour, fenced from almost all winds. the land is here inhabited by indians, who make good wines; and it is said to abound in good meat, corn, and other provisions, and from this port they export wine, money, and other goods for coquimbo. we would willingly have gone ashore for refreshments, but could not for want of boats. [footnote : there must be a material error here, as they afterwards, in sailing along the coast _to the northwards_, passed copaipo, which is in lat. ° ' s. and they consequently must have fallen in with the coast of chili, improperly named peru in the text, considerably farther south.--e.] continuing along the coast, which is the highest and most mountainous i ever saw, we were surprised, on the th of march, to see the waves changed to a red colour for seven or eight leagues, though on sounding we had no ground at fathoms; but on drawing up some of the water, we found the colour owing to a vast quantity of fish-spawn, swimming on the surface. we were now in lat. ° ' s. having passed the three famous ports of arica, ylo, and arequipa. the d march we were off the harbour of callao de lima, when we saw two ships steering for that port, to which we gave chase, and soon came up with the sternmost, which proved to be the ship we had fought with off the island of juan fernandez. we were very eager to stop her from going in, to prevent the spaniards from having intelligence of us, and hindering their merchant ships from putting to sea, and did not question our taking her, being all now in health; whereas on the former occasion, between twenty and thirty of our men were very sick and weak. but captain dampier was averse to attack her; and while the matter was disputing, both ships got into the port of lima, from whence twenty ships such as ours could not have forced them out. this proceeding gave great offence to most of the crew, and might have proved of bad consequence, had we not taken two very considerable prizes a few days afterwards, one of and the other of tons. we took out of these every thing that we thought useful, and then dismissed them. the th of april, we began to prepare for the great exploit our captain meditated, of landing on the coast and plundering some rich city; for which purpose our carpenters were ordered to fit up the launches or long boats we had taken from our prizes, so as to land our men in safety, and to fit two swivels in each launch. on the th we took a bark of fifty tons, laden with plank and cordage, as if sent on purpose for our present service. this was in sight of _gallo_, under which island we anchored next day with our prize, which we kept to use in the intended enterprise. the island of _gallo_ is in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. from london,[ ] and about five leagues from the main; being two leagues long and one league broad. when approached from the south, it shews three hummocks which seem at a distance as three separate islands, the land between being very low; but when to the n.w. of the s. end you will see a small island, or rock rather, resembling a ship under sail. from this island the main land is in sight, being very low near the sea, but prodigiously high up the country. we anchored off the n.w. part of this island, two cables length from the shore, in thirty-five fathoms on hard sand, the n. point bearing n. / w. and the s. point s.w. the watering place goes in with a full gap, over which, on the hill, is a plain spot of red earth, bearing n.w. / n. but there are several other good watering places in the island. the best anchorage is on the n.e. part at _legnetta_, where a ship may wood and water quite secure from any enemy. the island is very woody, affording large timber, which is often shipped hence for peru. there are here a few wild monkeys, with abundance of lizards; among which is one called the _lion-lizard_, about the size of a man's arm, one that i measured being three feet eleven inches from the head to the end of the tail. it has a kind of large comb on its head, standing up like a helmet, as if to defend its head, and when attacked it erects this comb, which otherwise lies in a deep groove on the head, just fitted for its reception, so that it can hardly be seen when down. this animal has very large eyes, and a large mouth, in which are a great many small sharp teeth. the skin is rough and of a dark colour, full of black, yellow, and bluish spots. it runs very swift, yet our dog caught many of them. [footnote : lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] after remaining here five days, we began to hoist our anchors to set sail, when we discovered a ship standing in for the island, which we took. she was a small vessel of fifty tons, commanded by a mestizo, on board of which we found a guernsey man, who had been taken by the spaniards, while cutting logwood in the bay of campeachy above two years before, and must have continued a prisoner during life if we had not released him. on sailing from gallo, our purpose was to attack the town of santa maria, not far from this on the continent to the e. expecting there to have found a great quantity of gold, brought thither from the adjacent mines of the same name. but this design miscarried, whether from fear, confusion, or the enemy having early intelligence of our motions, which enabled them to cut off many of our men. this, however, is certain, that we were quite sick of our fruitless attempts on shore by the st may, and immediately re-embarked. we were now so short of provisions, that five boiled green plantains were allotted for six men; but, when almost out both of hope and patience, a vessel came and anchored close beside us at midnight, which we took without resistance. this proved a most valuable prize, being a ship of tons, laden with flour, sugar, brandy, wine, about thirty tons marmalade of quinces, a considerable quantity of salt, and several tons of linen and woollen cloth; so that we had now a sufficient supply of provisions even for four or five years. i was put aboard of this prize on behalf of captain dampier and his company, and the master of the cinque-ports, in behalf of captain stradling and his crew. we carried our prize into the bay of panama, and anchored under the island of tobago on the th of may. here captains dampier and stradling disagreed, and the quarrel proceeded to such length, that they could not be reconciled, so that at last it was determined to part company, all the men being at liberty to go with which captain they pleased, in consequence of which five of our men went over to captain stradling, and five of his men came to us. we were now informed by the prisoners, that there were , dollars on board our prize, which had been taken on board at lima clandestinely, and were concealed at the bottom of the hold in the run of the ship. but captain dampier would not credit this, neither would he wait till we should rummage her to the bottom, lest delay might mar his great designs. having, therefore, taken on board a quantity of provisions from the prize, she was dismissed; and we set sail in the st george on the th may, leaving the cinque-ports behind, intending again to proceed for the coast of peru. we took a vessel of tons on the th june, bound from truxillo for panama, and laden with flour, sugar, brandy, and other articles, with some bales of flowered silk. in her we found a packet of letters, and the first of these we happened to read was from the captain of the ship we had fought off juan fernandez, and fell in with again going into callao. it was directed to the president of panama, and stated, "that he had fought with two english privateers off juan fernandez, the smaller having only fired eight or ten guns at him, and then fell astern and did not come up again during the fight, as he believed for want of wind; while the large ship fought him yard-arm and yard-arm for more than six hours, killed a great many of his men, and wounded such numbers, that he had landed thirty-two at lima, each of whom had lost a leg, an arm, or an eye, and he had been nearly taken, as at parting they had given themselves over for lost, not having a sufficient number of men left to defend themselves." by other letters, we learnt that the two french ships we afterwards saw near juan fernandez had picked up a boat at sea, in which were an englishman and a dog; had been in at the island of juan fernandez, and had taken up our anchors, cables, and long-boats, with all captain stradling's stores, as also his five men and our negro who were left there. we learnt also, that the spaniards had fitted out two men of war against us, one of thirty-two, and the other thirty-six brass guns, all twenty-four pounders, each having sailors and soldiers, all picked men, and had been cruizing for us in the bay of guayaquil, between point st helena and cape blanco, from the th to the th. we were forced to go under an easy sail, as our prize sailed very heavily, wherefore we went into _sardinas_ bay, in lat. ° ' n. where we anchored with our prize in ten fathoms, about four miles from the shore, for the purpose of rummaging her. we durst not go farther in, because of many shoals and sand-banks, which were very imperfectly laid down in all our charts. the sea-coast is inhabited by indians, but not in any great numbers, and has several small fresh-water rivers. from hence, all the way south, till we came to the bay of _atacarnes_, in lat. ° ' n. the sea-side is composed of white cliffs; and there are many shoals as far as _punta de la galera_, in lat. ° ' n. six leagues s.w. of sardinas bay is the great river of st jago, the mouth of which is about three quarters of a mile wide, but has no good anchorage till well within. this river is seldom used by ships, being out of the way, yet the country here produces abundant provisions of all sorts. we careened our ship and rummaged our prize in the bay of sardinas, and watered at one of the fresh-water rivers, which was as white as milk, and both smelt and tasted very strong of musk, occasioned by many alligators swimming in it. we shot several of these creatures, one of which measured thirty feet in length, and was bigger about than a bullock. the alligator is covered over with great scales from head to tail, having very large sharp teeth, and very long claws. it is amphibious, living both on land and in the water, and when lying on shore is often mistaken at a distance for a great tree fallen down. it runs very fast on the land, and is of such strength that one of them will take a horse or a cow into the water, and there devour it. they will seize on any thing, either on land or in the water, and often make great havock among cattle near their haunts, which are usually in fresh-water rivers. the indians are not greatly afraid of them, either on land or in the water. in the former case, they run in circles, and this unwieldy animal is unable to turn his body quickly, so that they easily get away from them. the indians also go into the water to seek them, taking in one hand a piece of iron pointed and baited at both ends, with two cross pieces a little below the points. holding this iron by the middle, when the alligator rises to bite, which he always does with, the head above water, the indian holds out the iron to him which he snaps at, and it fastens in his mouth, keeping his jaws open like a gag. the female lays about eggs at a time, as large as goose eggs; but quite spherical, and having shells as thick almost as those of an ostrich. the flesh of the alligator is not fit to be eaten, being very strong and musky; and the very water of the rivers they frequent was so strong of musk that a draught of it was like to suffocate us, yet there are no instances of its being injurious to health. being off the bay of guayaquil on the st june, we saw a ship, and came up with her next day, being one of the spanish men of war fitted out to take us, carrying thirty-two guns. we did all we could to gain the weather-gage, but carrying away our fore-top-mast, were obliged to come to action from the leeward, so that she kept a good distance from us, and we could not use our small arms. dividing our crew into two equal parts, one managed the guns while the other looked on, and when those at the guns were weary, the others took their places, alternately refreshing those who were not employed, by which means we fired much faster than the enemy, making about discharges, while they only made or . we thus fought from noon till half past six, though at such distance that our shot would hardly reach him, while his flew over us. growing dusk, both ceased firing, none of our men being either killed or wounded, and only two through carelessness had their hands and faces scorched. we lay-to all night, expecting in the morning to renew the fight; but he had made sail from us in the night. we now returned to the bay of atacames in search of provisions, for which purpose we sent our boat ashore with twenty men, who soon returned, saying they had found an indian village of fifty houses, but the inhabitants were all fled and had left nothing behind. in the river we found a fine bark of about fifty tons, with as much new plank in her as would have built another of equal size; and we took another of about ten tons, laden with plantains. this we resolved to retain, instead of a long-boat. she had two masts and two square-sails, and having fitted her for our purpose, we called her the dragon. the country in the neighbourhood of this bay is very pleasant, being well wooded and watered. about seven leagues to the n.e. is the bay of _st mattheo_, the land about it being very high, and there are many shoals about it, running two leagues out to sea. for three or four leagues the water is only from four fathoms to six, and this bay has white cliffs both to the north and south. in the bottom of the bay there are two rivers running into the sea, both of which are what the seamen call _alligator water_, that is, white and musky as before described. on each side of these rivers there are shoals of sand; and near their mouths are fine groves of tall spreading green trees, which are the marks by which they may be found, as their mouths are narrow, and not discernible at a distance. these rivers are seldom frequented by the spaniards, except for refreshments, for which they are well adapted, as all the adjoining country abounds with every kind of provisions that this part of the world produces. about two leagues up these rivers there are several indian villages, who furnish the spanish ships which come here with cocoa-nuts, plantains, bananas, and other kinds of fruit. the _cocoa-tree_ is generally from fifty to an hundred feet high, and for the most part straight and slender. the leaves are four fathoms, or four and a half long, at the very top of the tree, and serve excellently for thatching houses. at the bottom of the leaves the cocoa nuts grow in clusters of ten, fifteen, or twenty, hanging by a small string which is full of joints. each nut, with its outer rind, is larger than a man's head, and within this outer rind is a hard woody shell which will hold near a quart of liquid. the nut or kernel lines the inside of this shell, and within this kernel is about a pint and half of pure clear water, very cool, sweet, and pleasant. the kernel also is very good and pleasant; but when old, we scrape it all down, and soak it in about a quart of fresh water for three or four hours, which is then strained, and has both the colour and taste of milk, and will even throw up a thick head not unlike cream. this milk, when boiled with rice, is accounted very wholesome and nourishing by the doctors, and was given to our sick men. when the nut is very old, the kernel of itself turns to oil, which is often used to fry with, but mostly for burning in lamps. the outer end of the nuts may be applied to the purposes of flax, and of it the natives make a kind of linen, and it is also manufactured into ropes and cables, which are sold in most parts of america and the west indies. the shell of this nut makes very pretty drinking cups, and it also burns well, making a fierce hot fire. thus the cocoa-tree affords meat, drink, oil, clothing, houses, firing, and rigging for ships. the _plantain-tree_ is only about thirteen or fourteen feet high and four feet round, its leaves being eight or nine feet long and two broad, ending in a round point. the fruit grows at the bottom of the leaves, on a great stalk, in a pod about eight inches long and the size of a black pudding, being of a fine yellow colour, often speckled with red. the inside of this is white, but the plantain itself is yellow like butter, and as soft as a pear. there sometimes grow fifty or sixty of these pods on one stalk, and five or six stalks on one tree. they are an excellent fruit, and most parts of the east and west indies abound with them. the _banana_ tree is much the same with the plantain, but the fruit is only about six inches long, fifty or sixty of them growing on one stalk, and is extraordinarily mellow, sweet, and good. we left the bay of atacames on the st july, accompanied by our prize the dragon, and passing the bay of panama, came to the bay of nicoya on the th august, in lat ° 'n. in which we anchored near certain islands near the centre of the bay, called middle islands, where we careened. while here, mr clippington, the chief mate, having quarrelled with captain dampier, drew over twenty-one men to his party, and making himself master of the bark, in which was all our ammunition and the best part of our provisions, hoisted anchor, and went without the islands, whence he sent us word that he would put ashore at an indian house all our powder, shot, and other ammunition, reserving only what was necessary for his own use, which he did accordingly, and we sent our canoes to fetch it on board. these islands in the bay of nicoya are extremely pleasant and fruitful, abounding in all things necessary for life, such as birds of various kinds, several sorts of fish, and amphibious animals, particularly turtles and guanas. among the birds is a very beautiful one called the _maccaw_, having feathers of all the colours of the rainbow. it is in shape like a large parrot, with a white bill, and black legs and feet. the _carrion crow_ is as big as a small turkey, which it perfectly resembles in shape and colour; but its flesh smells and tastes so strong of muck that it is not eatable. the _pelican_ is almost as big as a swan, being mostly white with brown tips to the wings, having a long bill with a large cross joining the lower part of the bill, and hanging down the throat like a bag or satchel of great size, into which it receives oysters, cockles, conchs, and other shell-fish, which it is unable to break, and retains them there till they open, when it throws them out and picks out the meat. they are good food, but taste a little fishy. their feet are broad, and webbed like ducks, being water fowl, yet they commonly roost on rocks or trees, and always sit with their heads to the wind, varying their posture as that changes. they are heavy birds and fly slowly, and always when sitting rest their long bills upon their breasts. the _guana_ is an amphibious animal, found both on land and in the water. it is about three feet long, some more some less, and is very ugly, having large sharp scales, black and green, from the fore part of the head to the end of the tail. the mouth is furnished with numerous large and sharp teeth, and it has four long claws on each foot. they commonly breed in holes about the roots of old trees near the water. when stewed with some spice, their flesh is very white and eats well, making also good broth; but if not extraordinarily well boiled, it is very dangerous meat, making men very sick and often occasioning fevers. there are several kinds of _turtles_, or sea tortoises, but we account the green turtle the best meat. when they want to lay their eggs, they go on shore in some sandy bay, where they make a hole in the sand with their fins, two feet and a half deep, in which one turtle will deposit from eighty to ninety eggs, which they cover over with the sand, leaving them to hatch by the heat of the sun. they lay in this manner two or three times every year, and go immediately off to sea, leaving their young when hatched to shift for themselves; which, as soon as they get out of the eggs and from the sand, retire to the sea. the eggs are round and white, as large as those of a duck, being covered with a thin tough skin, but no shell. i have seen of the green turtle , , and even pounds weight. the lean of this animal looks like beef, but the fat is as green as grass, yet is very wholesome food. the _pearl-oyster_ is much about the size of our common oyster, but thick and broad, and hangs to the rocks by a long string or beard, like that of a muscle. the pearl is found in its thickest part, and some have six or seven pearls. the spaniards often make voyages to this gulf of nicoya and to california in quest of pearls, employing indian divers, who go down in seven or eight fathoms, and bring up eight, ten, or twelve oysters at a time, which are opened by other men on board. the meat of this oyster is very green and fat, and eats tolerably well, boiled or stewed. the _great-oyster_ grows to the rocks, not hanging from them by a beard. when opened, one part of the meat is of a fine red colour like a cherry, and the rest a fine white. i have often eat of this oyster, for want of better victuals; and they are so large, that one of them cut in pieces and stewed is a sufficient meal for five or six men. the _muscles_ here are so large that one will suffice for a meal to two men, and they are tolerably good when, stewed with pepper and vinegar. we sailed from the gulf of nicoya on the d september, and were in lat. ° ' n. on the th october, when we got sight of two high mountains, commonly called the volcanoes of guatimala. that which is to the north of the city is the highest, and affords a fine prospect from the sea; and in the year threw out a torrent of water, which totally overwhelmed the old city of st jago de guatimala, and occasioned the building of a new city at the distance of thirty-five miles s.e. the other mountain is really a volcano, which rages terribly in the rainy season, from april to november, sometimes throwing out stones as big as a house, and with such prodigious eruptions of flame, that one may see to read a letter in a dark night at the distance of six miles. this is to the south of guatimala. the th october we took a bark of eighty tons in ballast, but which had a small quantity of provisions, which were very acceptable. this bark was commanded by a spaniard named christian martin, born in the canaries, but brought up in london, who had formerly been servant to captain eaton, and came with him to the south sea in quality of gunner; but, falling out with the men, he ran away from them in the island of gorgonia, where he lay concealed for six days till the ship departed. he then cut down two trees, which he drew to the water side, and bound together with withes, fixed a mast, and made a sail of two shirts which he had with him. then filling a bag with oysters, he put off early in the morning from gorgonia, and got next day in the afternoon into the river bonaventura. he was here ill used by the spaniards, who sent him to lima, where he was set at liberty. we were now sixty-four men and boys, all in good health and spirits, and on the d november, captured a small bark of sixty tons from california laden with plank, but having also several parcels of pearls, that had been fished on that coast. december th we came into the bay of nativity, or _puerto nauidad_, in lat. ° ' n. where we took a new ship of about sixty tons, laden with ammunition and military stores for the acapulco ship, for which we were now in search, and for the sight of which our people longed as earnestly as if there had been no difference between seeing and taking her; neither was it long before they had their wish in one respect, but not in the other. we took from our prize what ammunition was left; for, on perceiving our design, the ship's company quitted her, having first thrown overboard the best part of her cargo, and left the rest scattered about in the utmost confusion. being off the volcano of colima on the morning of the th december, we descried a sail to which we gave chace, and soon came up with her, when she proved to be the great acapulco ship or manilla galleon, which we had so long wished to fall in with. as we were well provided, we gave her a great many broadsides before she could get any of her guns cleared for action, as she had not suspected us of being an enemy, and was not at all prepared for us. martin, who was still a prisoner on board our ship, advised us to lay her aboard immediately, while the spaniards were all in confusion, as we might then easily succeed by boarding; but if we gave them time to get out their great guns, they would certainly tear us to pieces, and we should lose the opportunity of acquiring a prize worth sixteen millions of dollars. thus it accordingly happened; for the time being wasted in disputing, between those of us that were for boarding, and those of a different opinion, she got out one tier of guns, and then proved too hard for us, so that we could not lie along side of her to do her any damage. our five pound shot, which was the biggest we had, signified little against such a ship; but when any of her eighteen and twenty-four pound shot struck our ship, which was much decayed, it drove in a piece of plank of three or four feet. being thus greatly damaged, and having received a shot between wind and water in our powder room, by which two feet of plank were driven in on each side of our stern, orders were given to stand off from the enemy. our design being thus disappointed, all our men became much discontented, and were for going home, seeing we could do no good in these parts, either for ourselves or owners; our ship also being ready to fall in pieces of herself, and having provisions only for three months at short allowance. captain dampier requested that we would consent to prolong our cruize for six weeks longer; after which he promised to permit us to sail for india to some factory, where we might all dispose of ourselves as we thought best for our advantage. to this we all agreed, and we accordingly cruized along shore to the s.e. in sight of land, passing the noted ports of acapulco,_puerto de los angelos_, guatalco, and several others; when we proposed to seek out a proper place in which to water our ships and bark, previous to our intended voyage to the east indies; and, after some consideration, the gulf of amapalla or fonseca was fixed upon for that purpose. on the th january, , we met with such vast quantities of fish, that in half an hour we caught near three score _albicores_, from sixty to ninety pounds weight each, besides vast quantities of other fish. the _albicore_ is about four or five feet long, weight from to and even pounds. it has eleven fins on its back, one pretty large, a second of middle size, and nine small yellow fins near the tail; one large fin on each side near the gills; and one near the middle of the belly. this is a very fleshy fish, having hardly any bones besides the back bone, and is extraordinary good eating. it has prodigious strength, while in the water, and preys mostly on flying fish, as do dolphins and bonetoes. on the th of this month, a new revolution took place in our affairs, as thirty of our men agreed to remain along with captain dampier in the south sea; but with what view or on what terms, we others, who were not in the secret, never knew. our company, who were not of dampier's party, consisted of thirty-three men; and, notwithstanding this new arrangement, we all sailed to the gulf of amapalla, where we anchored on the th january. that same day, all the remaining provisions were equally divided between the two companies by the agent for the owners, and we had four pieces of cannon, with a proper proportion of small arms and ammunition, assigned for us, for our defence during the voyage to india. our next care was to take in water, for which purpose we landed on the island of _conchagua_; and after some search, we found a large bottom behind the hills, in which was a large plantain walk, and a large reservoir of rain water, which came from the mountains. this was very inconvenient, as we were forced to carry all our water over a high hill, which we could hardly climb by ourselves; but there was no alternative, and we set to work to cut down the bushes in our way, to make a clear path. after this, as the hill was very steep on the land side towards the bottom whence we had to fetch water, we cut steps in the hill with axes and shovels; and our sail-maker made a hose or canvass pipe of ninety fathoms long, which carried the water from the top of the hill down to our water cask at its foot towards the sea. we then fell to work, each man having a six gallon keg, in which the water was carried to the top of the hill, where it was emptied into the hose. we were thus employed four days, in which time we filled twenty-six tons, which we carried on board. the st january, we all went to the plantain walk, where we cut down as many plantains as we could carry, with which we returned on board our ship, meaning to set sail next day. this evening, two of the men who had agreed to remain with captain dampier, left him and came over to us, so that our number was now thirty-five, viz. thirty-four english, and a little negro boy we had taken from the spaniards. while we were employed in watering our bark, the men on board the st george were busied in refitting that ship as well as they could; the carpenter stopping up the shot-holes in the powder-room with tallow and charcoal, not daring, as he said, to drive a nail, for fear of making it worse. the four great guns, which usually stood between decks, were put down into the hold, there being sixteen besides, which was more than they now had men to manage, as there only remained twenty-eight men and boys with captain dampier, who were mostly landsmen, a very insignificant force indeed with which to make war on a whole nation. section ii. _sequel of the voyage of william funnell, after his separation from captain dampier_. we left the gulf of amapalla on the st february, , where captain dampier remained at anchor in the st george, having a fine gale of wind at n.e. while in any of the harbours on the coast of mexico, we were seldom allowed any thing except flour, only that we used to go on shore, and found on the rocks plenty of concks, oysters, muscles, and other shell-fish, on which we made many a hearty meal. being now bound, as we hoped, for a land of plenty, we bore hunger and short commons with great patience, of which we had much need, as our allowance was no more than half a pound of coarse flour a day to each man, and two ounces of salt meat every other day. our vessel was a small bark of about seventy tons with two masts, which we had taken from the spaniards, which was so eaten with worms while in the gulf of amapalla, that she already began to grow very leaky. to add to our distress, we had no carpenter, neither had we a doctor or any medicines, if any of us happened to fall sick, and we had no boat to aid us if our vessel should fail. the carpenter, doctor, and boat being all left with captain dampier. yet, trusting to god's providence, who had already delivered us out of so many dangers, we proceeded on our voyage to india; and a bolder attempt was perhaps never made by such a handful of men in so frail a bark, and nothing but our anxious desire to revisit our native country could have supported us under all the difficulties and dangers of this extensive voyage. the prospect of our difficulties gave us spirit and resolution to provide against them; and in a council, which we held on this occasion, we determined on the course we were to pursue, and the allowance of provisions during the course. we knew the wind we now had was merely a land breeze, and that by running leagues out to sea we should fall in with the regular trade-wind, which blows always n.e. or e.n.e. our first purpose was, therefore, to get into the latitude of ° n. which is that of guam, and then to bear away before the wind in that parallel. this resolution was formed on the d february, all which day and most of the ensuing night we had fine calm weather, and caught abundance of _yellow-tails_, which swam about the vessel. this fish is about four feet long, having twenty fins on its back; a middling one behind the head, a large one on the middle of the back, and eighteen small ones between that and the tail. it has a large fin on each side near the gills, and thirteen under the belly, viz. a middling one under the gills, a large one near the middle of the belly, which goes in with a dent, and eleven small ones between that and the tail, which is yellow and half-mooned. this fish has a very great head, with large eyes, and is good eating, having no bones except the back-bone. it is all white, except the tips of the fins and the tail, which, are yellow. these fish were very acceptable to us, as we fed upon them for three days, saving our other provisions. on the d february, five or six turtles came near our bark, two of which we caught, which also served to save our scanty store of provisions, which otherwise had not sufficed to keep us from starving. on the evening of the d february, having a brisk gale from the land at n.e. we took our departure from _mount st miguel_ in the gulf of amapalla, steering s.w. and s.s.w. till we were in the lat. of ° n. when falling in with the tradewind, we set our course w.n.w. we then made studding-sails to our main and main-top sails, which we hoisted every morning at day-break, and hauling down at sun-set, as it commonly blew so fresh in the night that we had usually to furl our top-sail; but the wind commonly abated at sun-rise. during our whole voyage we steadily adhered to the rule of diet we had laid down, the slenderness of which may be judged of by the following particulars. from the d of february to the end of that month, we fed entirely on plantains, making two meals a day, and allowing two plantains to each man for a meal. we had then recourse to our flour, of which half a pound was allowed daily to each man, and two ounces every other day of salt beef or pork; but the meat had been so long in salt, that it shrunk one half when boiled, wherefore we concluded it was better to eat it raw, which we did as long as it lasted. by the beginning of april that began to fail, so that we were reduced to flour alone, which was sore spoiled, being full of maggots, spiders, and other vermin, so that nothing but the extremity of want could have induced us to eat it. it was surprising to behold this strange alteration in the flour, which only a few days before was white and fine, and was now in a manner all alive, the maggots tumbling over each other in prodigious numbers. on strict enquiry, these maggots seemed to proceed from the eggs of spiders deposited among the flour, out of which the maggots were bred, and then fed voraciously on the flour. words can only faintly describe the miseries of our situation, which was somewhat alleviated by work, and our spirits were buoyed up by the hopes of accomplishing our long and difficult voyage. some occasional assistance we derived by now and then catching a dolphin. at other times we saw many sea fowl, such as boobies, noddies, and others, which would come and perch on some part of our rigging, and happy was he that could catch one. in this manner we spent ten weeks, at the end of which we were in a very melancholy condition, and nothing but the hope of seeing land could possibly keep us from despair. the th of april, we observed the clouds to gather more than usual in the horizon, which is a sure indication of land, as it is common between the tropics to be foggy over the land, though perfectly clear at sea; wherefore we kept an anxious look-out all this night, and early in the morning of the th, we saw the island of _magon_ w. ten leagues distant. this is a high woody island, very plain, and green on the top. when within a mile of this island, we lay to, and several fishing boats came to us, bringing us fish, yams, eggs, potatoes, and other provisions, to our great joy. the men in these boats were very tall and large-limbed, of tawny complexions, with long black hair reaching to their middles, and were all utterly stark naked, not even covering their parts of shame. in exchange for what we had of these people we offered them money, which they looked at and returned, making signs to give them tobacco, which we did, and they seemed much pleased. we also gave them some old shirts, which they tore in pieces and wrapped round their heads. we would have given each a dram of brandy, but they were afraid of it; only one man accepted a glass, which he drank off, but we thought he would never have closed his mouth again, he seemed so astonished at the heat it left in his mouth and stomach, that i believe he thought himself on fire. he lay down and roared like a bull near half an hour, when he fell asleep; and we being in haste, put him into his boat, making signs to his companions to take care of him. these islanders seemed a very civil people, yet we did not venture to allow too many of them to come on board at once. when they first came near us, they tied two sticks together in form of a cross, which they held up, as we supposed, to signify to us that they had some knowledge of christianity; whereupon we shewed them a crucifix, we had taken from the spaniards, at the sight of which they all bowed their bodies, and came on board. this island of magon, as i reckoned, is in lat. ° n. and we made its longitude by computation, ° ' w. from _st miguel_, or english miles, allowing - / miles to the degree of longitude in this parallel.[ ] [footnote : from the sequel, this island of magon appears almost certainly to have been one of the ladrones, perhaps to the n.e. of guam, now named rota. point candadillo, near san miguel, the n.w. cape of the gulf of amapalla, is in long. ° ' w. and the ladrones are in long. ° w. from greenwich, so that the difference, or run across the pacific, is ° ', which, at - / miles, extend to miles, besides the allowance for difference of latitude.--e.] on mature deliberation, we resolved to proceed directly from this place to new guinea, without putting in at the island of guam, which was in sight. the weather continued fair, and the wind brisk and favourable, till we came into the latitude of ° n. when we had a calm for seven days, during which time we had no means of relieving our hunger, except by taking large draughts of water, and then lying down to sleep. on the d may we had a fine gale, which continued till the th, and then died quite away before we got sight of land; but about ten that night we were all sensible of a very odoriferous smell, whence we concluded that we were near land, on which we examined our charts, but found none laid down. next morning, however, we saw land at no great distance. this day also we caught two bonetoes, which were most welcome, as they made a hearty meal to our whole company. this fish is commonly about three feet long and two in circumference, having a very sharp head, with a small mouth, full eyes, and a semilunar tail. it is very fleshy, and makes good broth. about noon we were in sight of three small islands, all low land, but very green and pleasant, especially to us, who had been so long of seeing any land. we had this day an observation of the sun, by which we found our latitude to be ' n. and as the eastermost of these islands was four leagues s.e. of the ship, it must of consequence be in lat. ° ' n.[ ] [footnote : the only islands in modern maps which agree with the slight notice in the text, are frevilla, or st david's isle,, nearly in lat. ° n. and long. ° e. from greenwich: yet it is singular that funnell should have passed through the numerous group of the carolines without seeing any of them.--e.] as we were fearful of entering upon an unknown coast in the dark, we stood off all night, which was well for us, as we found ourselves at day-break next morning, th may, within a ship's length of a great reef of rocks, which extended from one island to the other, and thinking to have gone between the islands, we had nearly run upon this dangerous ledge. having a small breeze from shore we were fortunately able to stand off, and went to the westermost island, because we saw many shoals off the others. the rocks we were so near running upon were off the northmost isle, which we named the island of _deceit_. on getting near the westermost island which was the biggest of the three, forty or fifty of their flying proas came off, in which there might be men, allowing ten to each proa, and we could also see multitudes of people on the shore looking at us as we passed. the flying proas kept at a distance from us, till we beckoned and made signs for them to come near, and at length one came within a ship's length, in which were ten men entirely naked, in the midst of whom was a grave old man of a pleasant countenance, entirely naked like the rest, except that he had a four-cornered cap on his head without a crown. by the respect shewn him by all the rest in the boat, we judged this man to be a king or prince. on their approach, they sung a song which continued near a quarter of an hour, and had a very pretty tune. when this was done, they came almost close to our vessel, and then sung another song, which was begun by the old man, and followed by all the rest in the boat. at the end of which, they put themselves in a posture of prayer, making many bows and cringes towards us; and then one of the men in the boat, who had a very sore leg, held it up to us, as if desiring us to cure it, whence we supposed they had never seen white men before, and deemed us more than mortals. after some time, we made signs to let them know we wanted victuals and drink, when they shook their heads as if by way of denial. seeing us proceeding towards the island, one of the men in the boat blew a horn, on which all the other boats made boldly towards us; and thinking they meant to board us, we fired a junket over their heads to intimidate them, at the noise of which they seemed much surprised and drew back, menacing us at a distance with their paddles, and still following. seeing such multitudes on the shore, and finding we could have nothing from them but by force, and besides not having anchors and cables on which we could depend, or any boat in which to land, we concluded that we could do no good here; and on examining our water, which was found sufficient for eighteen days, at a quart each man daily, we resolved to quit these islands, and trust to providence for guiding us to some more friendly place, where we might supply our wants. so we left these islands, naming the westermost the island of _disappointment_, because we made certain of procuring water here, but could not. these three islands were all low, flat, and almost even with the water, yet full of trees of various sorts, all very green and flourishing; and doubtless, if we had possessed a boat, we must have found something beneficial to ourselves, perhaps useful to our country, as we might also at several other islands which we afterwards passed. the inhabitants of most of these islands were a very large and strong-boned race of men, having long black lank hair reaching to their middles, and were all entirely naked, not so much as covering their parts of shame; and i certainly never saw such, a parcel of stout-limbed men together in all my life. these islands, therefore, are abundantly peopled, though they were utterly averse from any communication with us, perhaps from a notion that all whites are spaniards; and yet it is not quite clear that even the spaniards have ever attempted to form a settlement at any of these islands. we left these islands with a fresh breeze at e. steering s.w. and continually met with weeds and grass on our way, which made us believe we were not far from land, yet we had no ground with fathoms. early in the morning of the th may, we descried the coast of new guinea, more than eighteen or nineteen leagues distant. we now saw the necessity of constructing a boat, with a few old boards and such other materials as we had, though not quite suitable for the purpose; and though neither strong nor handsome, it proved exceeding useful in the sequel. on the th we had very bad weather, the wind shifting to every point of the compass. this part of new guinea appeared very mountainous, black, and rocky, without harbour, bay, or road, in which we might anchor in safety. the mountains seemed so bleak and barren, and the vallies so deep and narrow, that at first we conceived the country to be uninhabited; neither did we afterwards see any inhabitants or signs of any. that same day we passed two small islands, each about a league in length, which were very low, and well clothed with small green trees. at the same time we saw part of the great island of gilolo, at the distance of eight leagues, and held our course w.s.w.[ ] intending to pass through between that island and new guinea, into the east indian sea. [footnote : the only way of explaining this part of the text, is by supposing funnel may have mistaken the island of waygoo for a part of new guinea, and even the n.w. point of that island is at least sixty leagues from the s.w. leg or peninsula of gilolo, to which the direction of his course certainly points.--e.] we had very bad weather till the th of may, and the night being very dark, we missed the common passage, and found ourselves among many small islands; and as the wind was at e. we resolved to look out for some passage among these islands to the south. after infinite difficulty and much danger, we at length made our way through a strait, which we named _st john's straits_, after the name of our bark. at this time we were boarded by a large indian proa, on board of which was a freeman of amboina, whom we acquainted with our great want of victuals, having had nothing for a great while to support us except a scanty allowance of spoilt flour and water, and so very little of that as hardly sufficed to keep us alive. he told us, if we would go to the island of _manissa_, which was then in sight, he would be our pilot, where he had no doubt we might have enough of rice for our money to carry us to batavia. we accordingly proceeded for manissa, passing by the island of _keylan_, which is small and high, but well inhabited, and clothed with many kinds of trees. its chief produce is rice, and a few cloves; and on this island there is a dutch corporal with six soldiers, whose only business is to see all the clove trees cut down and destroyed. from thence we proceeded to manissa, where we arrived about midnight, and came to anchor in a small bay at the n.w. end of the island, when our dutch pilot sent two men ashore with a letter to the governor, acquainting him of our urgent wants. early of the d may, a dutch corporal and two soldiers came on board, and read to us a general order from the dutch east-india company, that if any ships, except their own, came there to anchor, they were not to be supplied with any thing whatever. we told him that extreme want of provisions had constrained us to put in here, and that we should not have touched any where before reaching batavia, if we could possibly have subsisted; wherefore we requested he would inform the governor of our urgent wants. this he engaged to do, seeing us in a very weak condition, and came back about four in the afternoon, saying that we could have no provisions here, but might be supplied at amboina. we were forced therefore to leave this unfriendly place, and to attempt going to amboina, if the wind would serve. _manissa_ is about fifteen miles from s.e. to n.w. and about eight in breadth, in lat. ° ' s. and about twenty miles west from the island of _bonou_. it is a remarkably high island, and pretty well inhabited by malays, as are all the molucca islands. it is surrounded by shoals almost on every side, and some of these stretch a league and a half from the shore, so that it is very dangerous to come near, unless with very good charts, or with an experienced pilot. it has several good springs of fresh water, and the dutch have a small fort with six guns on its s.w. side. it is governed by a dutch serjeant, having under him three corporals, a master gunner, and twenty european soldiers; and produces vast plenty of rice and cloves, both of which are sent to amboina. the inhabitants are mostly fishers, and catch such abundance of fish as not only supplies themselves, but enables them also to carry a great deal to amboina. we stood to the s.w. having the wind at s.s.e. and blowing fresh, so that we sailed under our courses, and were now much out of heart, not expecting to reach amboina, the s e. monsoon being now set in; which was right against us. almost in despair, we continued our course till we were over against the island of _bouro_, and then the wind veering to the s.s.w. we stood away s.e. but finding a strong current setting to leeward, we rather lost ground, and seeing no likelihood of getting to amboina, we, by general consent, shared among us all that was eatable on board, each man's share being six pounds and three quarters of flour, and five pounds of bran, every one resolving to use his share as sparingly as possible. on the th, the wind veered to s.s.e. when we tacked to s.w. and soon weathered the island of _amblow_. this is a small island of moderate height, in lat. ° ' s. tolerably furnished with trees, but not inhabited. on the th, we had a fine fresh gale at s.e. when we tacked and stood away n.e. for the island of amboina. continuing the same course all the th, we got sight of amboina early in the morning of the th, bearing due n. about six leagues distant. we now stood directly for the island, and about noon came just off the harbour, a joyful sight to us then, though we soon had cause to think it the worst thing that had befallen us. as we entered the harbour of amboina, we met two dutch ships coming out, laden with cloves and bound for batavia. the captain of one of these came on board our bark, desiring to know whence we came and whither we were bound, and required to have a journal of our voyage, promising to return it when he again met us at batavia. we gave him the best answers we could to all his questions, and the agent of our owners gave him a succinct relation of our voyage, which was of happy consequence to us, as to that we afterwards owed our preservation as will appear in the sequel. we stood into the harbour that night, and next morning, which, according to our account, was tuesday, but with the dutch wednesday, two dutch _orambies_, as they call the vessels used at that place, came on board us, each of which was paddled by forty men. in these vessels came the fiscal and several dutch gentlemen, with eighty soldiers, who immediately took possession of our bark. they also went below and sealed up all our chests, after which the two orambies towed us farther into the harbour, so that by noon we were up as high as the town of amboina, where they moored our bark in the ordinary anchorage. we continued on board till the st, two days, not knowing how they meant to dispose of us; in which time they would not supply us with any victuals, though we offered a crown a pound for beef, pork, or bread. in the evening of this day they took us all on shore, lodging us in two rooms near the stadt-house, our bark, with all our money and goods, being taken from us, except what we happened to have about our persons, and soon after our vessel and goods were sold by auction. we were fed with bad meat, which our stomachs could ill digest, being very weak with having been so long on short allowance, and if we desired to have better we had to buy it with our own money. several of us had fortunately some money about us, and as long as that lasted we purchased provisions from our keeper. for a spanish dollar, which was worth five shillings and a penny, he would only give us five dutch _skellings_, or the value of about two and six-pence; and even for this he gave us no more victuals than we could have bought for five-pence, if we had been at liberty to go into the town; so that, instead of five shillings for the spanish dollar, we in reality had only five-pence. during my leisure, i had many opportunities of enquiring into the condition of amboina, by which i was enabled to draw up a pretty large account of the island and its inhabitants, which i flatter myself will be acceptable to the public, as the dutch are careful to prevent any accounts of this place from being published. this _island of amboina_, so famous, or rather infamous, for the cruelties and injustice formerly committed there by the dutch upon the english, is twelve leagues long from n. to s. being high and mountainous, with intermediate vallies, which are very fertile, but the hills are in a great measure barren. the soil of the vallies is black, and affords salt-petre. the middle of the island is in lat. ° ' s. the original inhabitants of the island are malays, who are of middle stature and tawny complexions. the women are brighter than the men, and have long black hair, reaching to the calves of their legs. they have round faces, with small mouths, noses, and eyes. their dress is a linen or cotton waistcoat, reaching only below their breasts, and a cloth round their waists, four yards long and a yard broad, which serves as a petticoat, as the dutch women only are permitted to wear petticoats; neither are any of the men allowed to wear hats, except the king or rajah. the natives are numerous, yet the dutch possess the whole sea-coast, and have here a strong castle, built of stone, mounted by sixty pieces of cannon, besides several small forts in other parts of the island. near the castle is a small town of about houses, of stone, brick, or timber, inhabited by the dutch. none of the houses exceed one storey, as the place is subject to earthquakes, which would endanger the houses if higher, and even low as they are they often fall. while we were there we had a great earthquake for two days, which did much mischief as the ground opened in several places, and swallowed up several houses with their inhabitants. several of their people were dug out of the ruins, but most of them dead, and many others had their legs and arms broken by the fall of the houses. where we were, the ground swelled up like a wave of the sea, but no damage was done. this island is governed by a council of five, consisting of the governor, the senior merchant, or _ober koop-man_, the malay king, the captain of the fort, and the fiscal, which last is the judge. there are said to be on the island dutch soldiers, with or dutch freemen and petty officers, and about as many chinese, who reside here for the benefit of trade, though not allowed to participate in the spice trade, which the dutch reserve entirely to themselves. i thus estimate that the dutch are able to muster in this island about fighting men, including themselves and the chinese; for they can count very little on the malays, who would gladly join any other nation against them. the malay women are said to be very loose, and not ashamed of having intercourse with men. they are soon ripe, being often married at nine years of age, and are said to have children by ten or eleven. all who reside near the coast must live under the dutch government, which is very dissolute and tyrannical, and they are severely punished for even small faults, being often reduced to slavery, and condemned to wear an iron on their legs for life. those dwelling near the coast under the controul of the dutch are a kind of christians; but those in the interior, among the hills, are mahometans, and are always at war with the dutch. when these hill malays take any prisoners, they never give quarter; but, after detaining their prisoners a few days, without meat or drink, they are produced in public, and have their breasts ripped open, and their hearts taken out, all the malays present making great rejoicings. the heads of these slaughtered prisoners are then embalmed with spice, and those who can shew the greatest number of dutch heads are held in highest honour. in retaliation, when the dutch take any of these hill malays, they load them with irons, and after keeping them some days in prison, they cut off their ears and noses, and after being kept some time longer in prison, they are publicly racked to death. when any of the malays, living under the dutch government, are found guilty of thieving, their ears and noses are cut off, and a great iron chain is fastened to their legs, in which condition they are made slaves for life. while we were there, about poor wretches were in this condition, who were kept constantly employed, in sawing timber, cutting stones for building, carrying burdens, or other work. they are let out of prison at sunrise, the men being kept in one prison and the women in another, and are kept hard at work till noon, when they return to prison for an hour, being allowed for dinner a pint of coarse boiled rice for each. they return again to work at one o'clock, and return to prison at six in the evening, when they have a similar allowance for supper. soon afterwards they are locked up in their lodgings, where they lie on the bare boards, having only a piece of wood for a pillow. sometimes these poor wretches make shift to escape, but are used with great severity if again caught. one of the female slaves having escaped, and being retaken, cut her own throat to avoid the severe punishment awaiting her, when she was dragged out by the hair all round the town, and then hung on a gibbet by the feet. such as are in debt, and cannot satisfy their creditors, are turned over by their creditors to the dutch company, who send them to work among their slaves, having the same allowance of boiled rice with the rest, with two-pence a day towards paying their debts; but they seldom get free till carried out dead. though the poor natives are thus harshly treated, the dutch wink at the faults of their countrymen, who are seldom punished for any crime, unless it be for murder, as in any other case they get off for a small sum of money, even for a great fault. the women slaves belonging to the free dutch burgesses have all reasonable indulgence, but are obliged to find their own clothes and provisions, and pay an acknowledgement of about a sixpence daily, in default of which they are severely used. if they bring the daily tribute, they may whore or steal, and have no questions asked, provided no complaint is made against them. the chief products of this island are cloves, ginger, pepper, rattans, canes, and a few nutmegs. the clove-tree is rather slender, and is from twelve to thirty or even forty feet high, having small branches, with tapering leaves about five inches long and two broad, which smell strong of cloves, when rubbed between the fingers. the cloves grow out at the tips of the branches, ten, twelve, or fourteen in a cluster, being white at first, then green, and lastly of a dark copper colour, in which state they are ripe and fit for gathering. at this period, they spread cloths or sheets on the ground round the bottom of the tree to a good distance, and shake the tree, when all the ripe cloves fall down. this is repeated every six or seven days for four or five times, till all the cloves have ripened and are shaken off. the usual time of gathering is october and february, those got in october, which is the end of their winter, being called _winter cloves_, and are not accounted so strong and good as the others. these are commonly preserved in small jars of about a quart each, of which great quantities are sent to various parts of the world. those gathered in february are termed summer cloves, being better and stronger than the others, as ripening in the best part of the summer; whereas the former have not above a month of fair weather, all the rest of their winter season, which is our summer, being rainy and cloudy, so that the cloves want sun to ripen them. it is a common opinion, but extremely erroneous, that cloves, nutmegs, and mace grow all on one tree. one clove-tree commonly produces sixty, seventy, or eighty pounds of cloves in one season; and every sixth year they are sure to have a double crop. there are a vast number of clove-trees on this island, which are carefully looked after, and a register of them is kept in the books of the company, being all numbered once every year, and they are not allowed to increase beyond a certain limited number, for fear of lessening the price, all beyond being cut down. all these trees belong to the company, or the free burgesses, every burgess having only a fixed number; and if any one is found to have more than his allowance, he is severely fined, and all his trees forfeited to the company. besides, the burgesses are bound to deliver the whole produce of their trees to the company at six-pence the pound. if any freeman or other is convicted of having sold or conveyed cloves from the island, to the value of ten pounds, his whole property is forfeited to the company, and he becomes a slave for life. the inhabitants used formerly to cheat the dutch in the sale of their cloves, in the following manner. they hung up their cloves in a large sheet by the four corners, and set a large tub of water underneath, which the cloves, being of a very hot and dry nature, drew up by degrees, and thus made a large addition to their weight. but the dutch are now too cunning for them, as they always try the cloves, by giving them a small filip on the head with the forefinger: if thoroughly ripe, and no deceit has been used, the head breaks off like a piece of thin brittle glass; but if watered, the clove is tough, and will sooner bend than break. the _nutmeg-tree_ is much like the peach, and there are a few of these in this island, but they grow mostly on the island of banda, whence two or three ship-loads are exported yearly. the fruit of this tree consists of four parts. the first and outer rind is like that of a green walnut. the second, which we call _mace_, is dry and thin. the third is a tough thin shell, like that of a chesnut; and the fourth is the _nutmeg_, being the kernel included in that shell. there are said to be some gold-mines in the island of amboina; and a malay once shewed me some of the ore, which, he said, came from these mines: but he said, at the same time, that he would be severely punished if the dutch knew of his having any, as they wish, as much as possible, to keep this from the knowledge of all other europeans. once every year the dutch have to send a large force from amboina on the following business, about the th of october. on this occasion the governor is attended by about seventy-five _orambies_, or boats of the country, some rowed by paddles, some eighty, fifty, or forty paddles each, and in each of which there are two dutch soldiers. i reckon therefore in this fleet to dutch soldiers, and about malays, allowing seventy to each _oramby_ on the average. these seventy-five _orambies_ are divided into three squadrons. the van-division of twenty _orambies_, is always commanded by a member of the council, who carries a yellow flag. the rear-squadron consists also of twenty _orambies_, and is commanded by the fiscal, having a red flag. the rest form the centre-squadron, and attend the governor, who has a serjeant and corporal, with twelve dutch soldiers, for his body guard, and carries a blue flag. the governor is also attended by the malay king and all their princes or chiefs, lest they should rebel in his absence. in this order the fleet proceeds to visit and victual the eastern, or banda islands, especially those that produce cloves or nutmegs; and at every island it goes to, it is joined by additional boats. this cruize generally lasts for six weeks, during which they cut down and destroy all the clove and nutmeg-trees they can find, except those which are reserved for the use of the company. all or most of these islands would produce cloves, but they will not suffer them, having enough at amboina alone to supply all europe. on all of these islands the dutch keep a few soldiers, three, six, nine, or twelve, according to their size, whose only business is to see the trees cut down, or at least to take care that they do not increase; as they are very jealous lest the english or french should serve them as they did the english at amboina. during this annual expedition, the governor levies tribute from all the petty kings and chiefs of these islands, and commonly returns to amboina at the end of six weeks. the island of amboina produces beavers, hogs, and deer, besides other animals. among its birds are crocadores, cassawaries, birds of paradise, and others. the _crocadore_, or _cockatoo_, is of various sizes, some as large as a hen, and others no bigger than a pigeon, being all over white, except a crest of feathers on the top of their head, which is always either yellow or red. this bunch of feather usually lies flat, in a dent, or hollow, on the crown of the head, unless when the bird is frightened, when it is erected, and opens like a fan. the flesh and legs of this bird are very black, and they smell very sweet. when they fly up and down the woods, they cry _crocadore, crocadore_, or _cockatoo, cockatoo_, whence their name. the _cassowary_ is as large as a virginia turkey, having a head nearly the same with the turkey, with a long stiff bunch of hair on his breast, also like the turkey. his legs are almost as thick as a man's wrist, having five great claws on each foot. the back is high and round, both it and the pinions being covered with long hair instead of feathers. the female of this bird lays an egg so large that its shell will hold an english pint of fluid, having a thick shell, spotted with green and white, and exactly like china-ware. i never tasted the eggs of this bird, but its flesh is good eating, resembling that of a turkey, but stronger. the _birds of paradise_ are about the size of pigeons, and are never seen here alive, neither is it known whence they come. i have seen several of them at amboina preserved in spice, in which state they are sent as rarities to several parts of the world. these birds are said to resort, in february and march, when the nutmegs are ripe, to banda and amboina, where they feed on the outer rind of the nutmeg, after which they fall to the ground, quite stupified, or as it were dead drunk, when innumerable ants gather about them, and eat them up. there are here many kinds of fish, but the most remarkable is the _sea-porcupine_, which is about three feet long, and two and a half feet round, having large eyes, two fins on the back, and a large fin on each side, near the gills. its body is all beset with sharp spines, or quills, like a porcupine, whence its name is derived. all round amboina the bottom is sand, but the water is so deep that there is no anchorage near its shores, except to leeward, or on the west side, where a ship may anchor in forty fathoms, close to the shore in the harbour. this harbour runs so deep into the island as almost to divide it into two, which are joined by so narrow a neck of land that the malays often haul their canoes across. on the east side of the entry into the harbour there is a small fort of six guns, close to which the depth is twenty fathoms. about a league farther up is the usual anchorage for ships, close under the guns of the great castle, which has been called _victoria_ ever since the massacre of the english at this place. about two miles farther to the n.e. and within the harbour, is the place where the english factory formerly stood; and near it is the hole into which the english were said to have been thrown after the massacre. few of us who were now here but expected the same fate; and some of the inhabitants did not scruple to say that our only protection was our journal, which had been sent to batavia by the dutch ship we met when going into the harbour; as by this it would soon be known all over india that a part of captain dampier's crew had arrived at aniboina, which would cause us to be enquired after. a little to the eastward of amboina there are several other small islands, the most noted of which are _boangbessay_ and _hinomsa_, only a small distance east from amboina. these two islands are moderately high, and not above a third part so large as amboina. they are both well fortified, and produce store of cloves. the chief place for nutmegs is the island of _banda_, which also belongs to the dutch, being in lat. ° ' s. leagues s.s.e. from amboina. this island is said to have the form of a man's leg and foot, and is well fortified. the governor of amboina is supreme over all the spice islands, even to _ternate_ and _tidore_, which are also spice islands belonging to the dutch, and are about forty miles to the north of the equator. we were so troubled at amboina by musquitoes, a sort of gnats, that we had every night to put ourselves into a bag before we could go to sleep, as otherwise these insects bit us so intolerably that we could get no rest. wherever they bit, there commonly rose a red blister, almost as broad as a silver penny, which itched so violently that many cannot forbear from scratching, so as to cause inflammations that sometimes aid in the loss of a limb. during our stay, we were allowed to walk in a paved yard about sixty yards square; but were not permitted to go into the town, that we might not learn their strength, or make any discoveries prejudicial to them. we remained at amboina from the st of may to the th of september, , when three of their sloops were ready to sail with cloves to batavia, in which twenty-five of our men were sent away to batavia, ten of us being left behind, who they said were to be sent in another vessel, almost ready to sail. on the th september, a malay man was brought to the stadt-house to be tried for his life, being accused by his own wife of having murdered his slave. the slave had been dead six months, when the wife falling out with her husband, she went to the fiscal in the heat of her rage and revealed the murder, on which the husband was thrown into prison, but it was generally believed that he was wrongfully accused by his wife. during his trial the earthquake took place, formerly mentioned, which made the court break up, fearful the house might fall on their heads. at this time i observed that it is an error to suppose that it is always calm during an earthquake; for we had a fine fresh gale at s.s.w. both days on which the earthquake happened. next day the court sat about eleven o'clock, continuing the trial; and while the wife was in her greatest violence in the accusation of her husband, the earth shook again with much violence, which obliged the court again to break up. that same day, the th september, i and four more of our men were sent off for batavia in a chinese sloop, the other five men being promised to be sent after us in a short time, but we never heard of them afterwards. we sailed westwards till we came to the island of lancas, in lat. ° ' s. and by my estimation, ° ', or miles w. from amboina. we then steered w. by n. till we made two islands called the _cabeses_, whence we procured some hundred cocoa nuts. the eastermost island, to which we sent our boat, is low and uninhabited, but has been planted full of cocoa-nut trees by the dutch, for the use of their vessels going between the spice islands and batavia, as it is a kind of miracle to see any other ship in these parts except those belonging to the dutch. off this island we met our own bark which had brought us from america to amboina, the dutch having fitted her up with a main-mast and converted her into a very good vessel. this island is in lat. ° ' s. and nearly w. by n. from the island of lancas, about forty-five miles distant, and has a shoal extending about two miles from the shore. to the s.w. of this is the other island of _cabeses_, a pretty high island, on which the dutch always keep a corporal and two soldiers, who go two or three times all over the isle to see that no cloves are planted, and if they find any to cut them down and burn them, lest any other nation might be able to procure that commodity, in which case amboina would become of little value, as cloves are its only valuable product. we next passed by the s. end of the island of _bouton_, or _booton_, which is pretty large, and in the lat. of ° ' s. we steered w. from thence, between the islands _celebes_ and _zalayer_ or _salayr_. the s.w. leg or peninsula of celebes is very high land. celebes is composed of very high land, very well inhabited, being a very large island, extending through seven degrees of latitude. on the west side of its southern end the dutch have a factory named macasser, where they have a fortress of about seventy guns, and a garrison of or dutch soldiers. the chief product is rice, with which they supply most of their eastern islands from hence. there are said to be gold-mines in this island, of which the dutch are not yet masters, as the inhabitants are often at war with them, and have hitherto been able to keep them from those parts of the island. between the south end of celebes and the island of salayr there are three small low islands, and the best channel is through between the island next to salayr, and another small isle to the northward. this is called the _second_ passage, the first, third, and fourth of these passages being very dangerous, so that ships generally avoid them if possible. i would willingly give an account of every island i have occasion to mention, but as that is not in my power, i must rest satisfied with what i am able to say consistent with truth. the island of _zalayer_, or _salayr_, is of moderate height, inhabited by malays, and planted all round with cocoa-trees, the natives being obliged to send a considerable quantity of nuts and oil to the dutch at macasser as tribute. we steered from hence w. by n. till we had passed a dangerous shoal called the porill, after which we stood to the s.w. and saw in the night a small island just in our way, which we were unable to weather, and therefore stood off till daylight, when we were to the s. of that isle, when we tacked and stood again s.w. and soon after saw two other small isles bearing from n. to n.w. for about two miles of our course at this time, the sea was so transparent that we could plainly discern the bottom, which was never less than five or more than six fathoms, yet appeared only two to the eye. we passed over this shoal about a league to the s. of these two small islands, this being the narrowest part of the shoal, for it is five or six leagues in breadth farther to the south; yet is it every where without danger, as it has very uniform soundings, seldom over or under five or six fathoms. to the north of these islands, however, it is very dangerous, being all over foul rocky ground, and having in some places not more than four or five feet water; it is proper, therefore, always to keep to the south of these islands, where the passage is perfectly safe. yet in the dutch charts, these dangers are laid down to the southward, which should have been to the northwards, and they lay down the safe shoals to the northward, whereas we now went to the southwards, as they always do. the captain of our vessel had a chart on board, which shewed these things exactly as i have now described, but which i compared with several others, also on board, which i found quite different. i asked our captain the reason of this, when he told me that all these shoals and dangerous places were well known to the hollanders, but they did not wish they should be known by others, but rather that strangers might lose their ships among these rocks and shoals, as we certainly had done, if we had sailed according to these common charts. we entered the harbour of batavia on the st october, and sent immediately on landing to join the rest of our men, who were still detained in custody. we were soon afterwards visited by the first major, who desired us to transmit to the general, through him, an account of the losses we had sustained by our being taken prisoners at amboina, and we should receive compensation for our effects, loss of time, and imprisonment. we each accordingly drew up accounts of our losses, which we sent by the major to the governor, who sent us back word that we should speedily have our freedom. on the th we were sent for to the fort, where most of our money was returned; but we could have no satisfaction for our goods, imprisonment, and loss of time, the governor-general saying that he had given us all that had been sent to him as ours by the governor of amboina, and that we were now at liberty to go where we pleased. as our vessel had been taken from us for the use of the dutch company, we desired he would be pleased to find us some ship for our return home, which he promised; with which arrangement we were forced to be satisfied, and took lodgings in the city of batavia, till an opportunity might offer for our return to europe. in the course of seven weeks residence here, i made all the observations i could upon this place and its inhabitants. i found the city in as good a condition as could be wished, and the people seemed to be as prudent and as industrious as any i had ever seen: but, as the descriptions already published of this place are so exact as to render my observations superfluous, i shall content myself with a very short description, referring the curious reader to the large accounts that have been published by dutch, french, and english writers, but especially the first. batavia is the chief place belonging to the hollanders in india, and receives all the productions of india, japan, and china. the malays are the original natives; but besides these and the dutch, who are the masters, it is inhabited by portuguese, chinese, persians, and negroes. the town is large and handsome, having seven churches, belonging to the dutch, portuguese, malays, and chinese.[ ] the town has many spacious houses built in the european manner, and is walled and moated all round, the ramparts being well provided with cannon. in the middle of the city there is a spacious square, in which is the stadt-house, where all public matters are transacted. this city is usually governed by a member of the states-general of the united netherlands, with the title of governor-general of india, all other governors of the possessions belonging to the dutch company being subordinate to his authority. the inhabitants are well pleased in the governor-general being often changed, as all prisoners are released at the installation of a new one, except those charged with murder. he has twelve counsellors to assist him, who are called the _rads_, or lords of india, and are mostly such as have formerly been governors in other places, as in ceylon, amboina, malacca, &c. [footnote : this seems to indicate that, of the seven _churches_, some belong to the dutch calvinists and portuguese roman catholics, while others are mahometan places of worship for the malays, and idol temples, or _pagodas_, frequented by the chinese.--e] the city is divided by many canals, over which there are bridges almost at the end of every street, together with booms to lay across, that no boats may go in or out after sunset. the chief product of the adjoining country is pepper, of which the dutch export great quantities every year; and there are also some few diamonds and other precious stones. the chief fruits here are plantains, bananas, oranges, lemons, mangostans, and rumbostans. the _mangostan_ is about the size of a golden rennet, quite round, and resembling a small pomegranate, the outer rind being like that of the pomegranate, but of a darker colour, but the inside of the rind of a fine red. the fruit lies within the rind, commonly in four or five cloves, of a fine white, very soft and juicy, within each clove having a small black stone or pip. the pulp is very delicious, but the stone is very bitter, and is therefore thrown away, after sucking the fruit the _rumbostan_ is about the size of a walnut after the green outside peel is off, and is nearly of the shape of a walnut, having a thick tough outer rind of a deep red colour, full of red knobs, within which is a white jelly-like pulp, and within that is a large stone. the pulp is very delicate, and never does any harm, however much of it a man may eat, providing he swallow the stones; but otherwise they are said to produce fevers. this island of java, on the north side of which batavia is situated, extends about ten degrees from east to west, or nearly english miles. the weather is here extremely regular, and the inhabitants know how to use it to the best advantage. during the eastern monsoon, the land-winds are at s.e. sometimes more southerly; and the sea-winds blow from the n.e. fine pleasant gales. this easterly monsoon is accounted the good monsoon, being fine clear and fair weather, and begins in april, ending in october. the other, or westerly, is called the bad monsoon, consisting of blustering rainy weather, accompanied with much thunder and lightning, especially in december, january, and february. this bad monsoon begins in november and ends in march or the beginning of april; during which the land-winds are w.s.w. or s.w. and the sea-winds at n.w. and w.n.w. the anchoring ground all along the north side of java, from madura to batavia, is a fine oozy bottom, free from rocks. the principal places on this side of the island are batavia, bantam, japara, samarang, surabon, taggal, quale, and rambang; all of which are possessed by the dutch. these settlements afford abundance of rice, with which the dutch supply all their out-factories near java, and also produce excellent plank for ship-building. the principal place for ship-building is _rambang_, where the free burgesses of batavia usually go to build their small vessels, as sloops and brigs. ships of five, six, and seven hundred tons, often load with timber at rambang, quale, japara, and other places; and each ship, after being fully laden, takes a great raft or float of the largest timber, which she tows along with her to batavia. some of these rafts are said to be thirty feet square, and draw twenty feet water. there are commonly six ships employed in this timber trade, and they usually make four voyages yearly in the good monsoon, for in the bad they cannot do any thing. ail this timber is for the most part landed on the island of _ormrust_, between four and five leagues from batavia, where there are about ship-carpenters, who are constantly in full employ, and here the dutch careen their ships. this island is well fortified, being, to use a sea phrase, all round a bed of guns. we had notice on the d december, , that all of us who wished to return to england should immediately go on board the homeward-bound dutch east india fleet, which we did accordingly, and sailed next day. this fleet consisted of twelve ships, as well provided in all respects as any i had ever seen, and we made the voyage in good order. we arrived at the cape of good hope on the d february, . the dutch have here a strong fortress, and about half a mile from this is a fine town of houses, with a small church. the country in the neighbourhood is very high, and the mountains are mostly barren, producing only a few shrubs; but the country is full of lions, tigers, elephants, and other wild beasts, which give great disturbance to the settlers, for which reason the government gives a reward of fifty-two guilders for killing a lion, equal to four pounds six and eight-pence, and twenty-four guilders, or forty shillings, for killing a tiger. while we were there, a certain scotsman killed four lions, three tigers, and three wild elephants, for all of which he got the rewards. the dutch make here a great quantity of an excellent wine, called cape wine, which is sold by retail at eight-pence a quart. we sailed from the cape the th of march, excellently provided with every thing requisite for the voyage. we were now twenty-four sail, having nine english and fifteen dutch ships. on the th april we made the island of ascension, but did not touch there even for turtle, although their season of laying, having been so well provided with fresh provisions at the cape that we had no occasion for more. on the th there happened a great earthquake, when the ship seemed for some time as if she run along the ground, on which we heaved the lead on both sides, but had no ground at fathoms. the whole fleet felt the shock at the same time; so that for about ten minutes every ship was making signals and firing guns. on the th june we saw four sail of french privateers, which were waiting for us; but after looking at us for some time, and observing the regular order in which we sailed, they did not think it adviseable to make any attempt against us, and bore away. this shewed the great advantage of the regular order observed by the dutch in sailing, in which on this occasion they were imitated by the english ships in company. on the th june we were in lat. ° ' n. the highest north i was ever in, and i could not help noticing the great difference in point of cold here and in ° s. there we had continual showers of snow or hail, with bitter cold weather; while here the weather was fair, and the cold moderate. in the evening of the d july we saw the faro islands. on the th we met with eight dutch men of war, which were cruizing on purpose to convoy us safe home, accompanied by four victuallers and three of the company's privateers. on the th july we all arrived safely in the texel, and got on the th to amsterdam. after this, i and the rest of our company went to see several parts of holland, and we arrived on the th august, , in england, after many dangers by sea and land, being only of us out of . the news of our misfortunes reached home before us, and every body was solicitous to have an account of our adventures, especially while under the power of the dutch at amboina. these importunities led me to believe that a faithful relation of our voyage would be acceptable to the public, and i hope some of the descriptions, observations, and discoveries contained in this small performance may be found useful, and not altogether destitute of entertainment. section iii. _brief account of stradling, clipperton, and dampier, after their respective separations, till their returns to england._ the reader may remember that captain dampier, in the st george, left _captain stradling_ in the cinque-ports on the th of may, , at king's island, in the bay of panama. the force under captain stradling was too insignificant to maintain him long in the south sea, for which reason he went to the island of juan fernandez in search of shelter and refreshments. they were in so forlorn a condition at this time, that alexander selkirk[ ] chose rather to remain by himself in that island, than to run the hazard of returning to the south sea in the cinque-ports. in this he shewed great judgment, as the cinque-ports actually foundered on the coast of _barbacora_ (barbacoas), and only captain stradling, with six or seven of his men, were saved, and sent prisoners to lima. captain stradling was alive there at the time when woods rogers came into the south sea, but what became of him afterwards is unknown. [footnote : this person, on whose simple adventures the romance of robinson crusoe was soon afterwards founded, will be more particularly mentioned in a subsequent chapter of this book.--e.] the next person who left captain dampier was his mate, _mr clipperton_ of whom we shall have occasion to say much in a succeeding voyage round the world. clipperton was certainly a man of parts and resolution, and probably would not have deserted from captain dampier, if he had not thought that his commander was resolved to remain in his old crazy ship in the south sea till she foundered. finding many of the crew of the same opinion, he thought proper to leave him at the middle islands, as already related, where it was plain to every one that the st george was no longer fit for going to sea. mr clipperton set sail on the d september, , having twenty-one men, in a small bark of ten tons, with two masts and two square sails, two swivels, two or three barrels of powder, and some shot. with this inconsiderable force, he ventured into rio leon, on the coast of mexico, where he took two spanish ships riding at anchor. one of these was very old and worm-eaten, which he immediately sunk. the other was new, and had goods on board to a considerable value, and for her captain clipperton demanded a ransom of , dollars, by two of his prisoners whom he set on shore. the prisoners spoke so handsomely of clipperton that the governor resolved to treat with him, and sent him word that he did not think his offer unreasonable, but the owners were entirely ruined, and the town so poor that it was impossible to comply with his terms; but if dollars would content him, which was all they could raise, that sum should be sent aboard, and the governor would rely on the honour of captain clipperton for the release of the ship. clipperton accepted this proposal, but as his bark was in want of provisions and water, he sent word to the governor, that every kind of provisions and drink were not to be considered as within the capitulation. this was readily agreed to, the money was sent on board, and as soon as the provisions were got out of her, the ship was honourably restored. clipperton went thence to the bay of salinas, where his little vessel was drawn on shore, and cleaned and effectually refitted, after which he resolved in this cockle-shell to sail for the east indies, which he actually did, keeping in the latitude of ° n. and reached the philippine islands in fifty-four days. while among these islands, a spanish priest came off to his bark in a canoe, and clipperton detained him till furnished with a supply of fresh provisions, and then set him at liberty. his next scheme was to sail for the english settlement of pulo condore, in lat ° ' n. off the river of cambadia, and actually came there: but finding that the english had been massacred by their indian soldiers on the d march, , for which reason no relief or safety could be expected there, he bore away for macao, a port belonging to the portuguese on the coast of china, where he and his people separated, every one shifting for himself as well as they could. some went to benjar,[ ] in order to enter into the service of the english east india company, while others went to goa to serve the portuguese, and some even entered into the service of the great mogul, being so bare after so long a voyage, that any means of providing for themselves were desirable. clipperton returned to england in , and afterwards made another voyage round the world in the success, of which an account will be found in its proper place. [footnote : this is perhaps an error for bombay; yet it may have been benjarmassin, on the southern coast of borneo.--e.] it is not easy to conceive a worse situation than that in which captain dampier was left at the close of the year , when mr funnell and his people separated from him, being only able to retain twenty-eight of his men, and even these were prevailed upon to stay, by representing that it was easy to surprise some spanish village, and that the fewer they were, each would have the greater share in the plunder. after some consultation, they resolved to attack puna, a hamlet or village of thirty houses and a small church, the inhabitants of which are well to pass, and are under the command of a lieutenant. dampier landed here in a dark night, and, surprizing the inhabitants in their beds, got possession of the place with very little trouble. after plundering this town, they repaired to the island of _lobos de la mar_, and took a small spanish bark by the way, well furnished with provisions. they now resolved to quit their own ship, and to endeavour to sail for the east indies in this small bark; and accordingly left the st george at anchor under the island of lobos, after taking every thing valuable out of her. they then sailed across the pacific ocean to the east indies, and arrived at the dutch settlements, where their bark was seized, and they were turned adrift to shift for themselves as they best might. dampier returned naked to his owners, with a melancholy relation of his unfortunate expedition, occasioned chiefly by his own strange temper, being so self-sufficient and overbearing that few or none of his officers could bear with him; and when once disputation gets in among those who have the command, success is not to be expected. even in this distress, he was received as an eminent man, notwithstanding his faillings, and was introduced to queen anne, having the honour to kiss her hand, and to give her majesty some account of the dangers he had undergone. the merchants were so sensible of his want of conduct, that they resolved never to trust him any more with a command; and this, with the poverty resulting from his late unlucky voyage, obliged him to make the tour of the world once more as pilot to the duke, commanded by captain woods rogers, the relation of which voyage forms the subject of next section. chapter x. voyage round the world by captain woods rogers, and stephen courtney, in - .[ ] introduction. it has been universally allowed by all competent judges, that there never was a voyage of this nature so excellently adjusted or so well provided in all respects, as the present, or in which the accidents that usually happen in privateers were so effectually guarded against; owing to the abilities of the gentlemen at bristol, who both charged themselves with the expence of fitting out this expedition, and took care of every thing relating to its being properly fitted out. their first care was in the choice of proper officers, in which they were very fortunate. captain woods rogers, who had the chief command, being a bold, active, and indefatigable officer, not too ready to give up his opinion to others, and not apt to be flattered by other people giving up theirs to him. he had been a great sufferer by the french; but his most singular qualities, and which chiefly recommended him to the command of this expedition, were a peculiar felicity in maintaining authority over his seamen, and a wonderful readiness in devising expedients under the most difficult circumstances. [footnote : a cruizing voyage round the world, &c. by captain woods rogers, vo. london, . voyage to the south sea, and round the world, &c. by captain edward cooke, vol. vo. london, . harris, i. . callender, iii. .] captain stephen courtney, the second in command, was a gentleman of birth, fortune, and amiable character, who had contributed considerably to the expence of the voyage, and went in the expedition that he might see how it was conducted, and either be able to prevent miscarriages, or at least to make a faithful report of its incidents. captain thomas dover, the third in command, was a proprietor also. he was bred a physician, and afterwards made a noise in the world by recommending the use of crude mercury. he was a man of rough temper, and could not easily agree with those about him, yet his morose disposition hindered him from making any party to support him in his ill humours. captain cooke, fourth in command, was second to captain courtney. the pilot in the larger ship was captain william dampier, who was now to proceed for the fourth time into the south sea, where his name and exploits were well known and terrible to the spaniards. the adventurers were also extremely careful in the choice of inferior officers, and even as far as possible in procuring the best private men that could be found. in the next place, the proprietors established rules for the proper conduct of the voyage, which were digested in the following articles of instruction, and signed by a committee of proprietors at bristol, on the th july, . "for the better government and regulating the affairs of the present voyage of the ships duke and duchess, we do hereby appoint and constitute captain woods rogers, captain thomas dover, captain william dampier, mr charlton vanbrugh, messrs green, fry, charles pope, glendall, bullet, and wasse, all of these officers on board the duke, to be the council on board that ship: we also appoint captain stephen courtney, captain edward cooke, messrs william stratton, bathe, john rogers, white, and the master, officers on board the duchess, to be council on board that ship, in case of the ships being separated from each other. but, when in company, the whole officers of both ships above named, are conjunctly to come on board either ship at the summons of captains rogers, dover, and courtney, or any two of them, and to be the council referred to in our general orders, to determine all matters and things that may arise or be necessary for the general good daring the whole voyage. in case of the death, sickness, or desertion of any of the above officers in either ship, the rest who are of the council of that ship shall convene on board their own ship, and chose another fit person into that office and council." "we farther require and direct, that all attempts, attacks, and designs upon the enemy, either by sea or land, shall be first consulted and debated, either in the particular council if separated, or in the general council if together; and as the majority shall conclude how and when to act or do, it shall be indispensably and cheerfully put in execution, and without unnecessary delay. in case of any discontents, differences, or misbehaviours among the officers and men, which may tend to the disturbance of good order and government on board, either the men or persons may appeal to the captain to have a hearing by a council, or the captain shall call a council to have the matter heard and decided, and may prefer or displace any man according to desert. all decisions and judgments of the council shall be finally determined by the majority of voices; and in case of an equality, captain dover is to have a double voice as president, and we do accordingly order and appoint him president of the council. all matters transacted in this council shall be registered in a book by the clerk appointed for that purpose." it was agreed between the owners and those employed in this voyage, that all prizes were to be divided after the following rule. two-third parts of the clear profits were to belong to the owners, and one-third to the officers, seamen, and landsmen, which last was to be distributed according to the following proportions. _if wholly on shares_. _if part on shares, and part on wages_.[ ] a captain, _shares_ second captain, _wages_. _shares_ first lieutenant, £ second lieutenant, third lieutenant, master, first mate, second mate, - / surgeon, surgeon's mate, owner's agent, pilot, carpenter, carpenter's mate, boatswain, boatswain's mate, gunner, gunner's mate, - / - / cooper, - / cooper's mate, - / - / midshipman, _shares_. _wages_. _shares_. quarter-master, - / sailors, - / - / land-men, - / - / [footnote : the wages were probably monthly, though not so explained.--e.] "we have two relations of this voyage, one by captain rogers, and the other by captain cooke, both in the form of journals. on the present occasion i shall chiefly follow that written by captain woods rogers, taking occasionally explanatory circumstances and descriptions from captain cooke: but as they agree pretty well in their relations, i do not think it necessary to break the thread of the discourse, but shall proceed as near as may be in the words of captain rogers."--_harris_. besides using as the ground-work of the present chapter, the narrative drawn up by harris from the publications of captain woods rogers and edward cooke, we have carefully employed both of these original works on the present occasion; yet have not deemed it at all necessary or adviseable to retain the minute and tedious nautical remarks, and have chiefly attended to such interesting circumstances as had not been sufficiently illustrated in the preceding chapters of this book.--e. section i. _narrative of the voyage, from england to the island of juan fernandez_. our force on this voyage consisted of the duke of tons, carrying thirty guns and men, captain woods rogers commander, with captain thomas dover as second captain, and three lieutenants; and the duchess of tons, with twenty-six guns and men, commanded by captain stephen courtney, having captain edward cooke as second captain, and three lieutenants. both ships had commission from george prince of denmark, husband to queen anne, and lord high admiral of england, to cruize on the coasts of peru and mexico in the south sea, against the french and spaniards, and to act jointly and separately. on the th june, , we went down to king-road, to fit our ships for sea and the better to keep our men on board, where we continued till the st august, when we weighed anchor and towed down about five miles below the holmes. we made sail at one next morning, and got into cork harbour on the th august, where we remained till the th adjusting all things, taking on board additional men provided there for us, and discharging some we had brought from bristol, who were found unfit for the voyage. our complement of men in both ships was now , of which above a third were foreigners from most nations, several of her majesty's subjects we had on board being tinkers, tailors, haymakers, pedlars, fiddlers, and the like, with one negro and ten boys; yet we hoped to be well manned with this motley crew, when they had got their sea-legs and had learnt the use of arms. we had double the number of officers usual in privateers, which was meant to prevent mutinies, so usual in long voyages, and to secure a succession in case of deaths. our holds were so full of provisions, that our cables, and a great deal of our bread and some water casks were between decks, and having men in the duke, and in the duchess, we were obliged to send our sheet, cable, and other new store cordage on shore at cork, to make room for our men and provisions, yet were so much crowded and lumbered that we could not have engaged an enemy, without throwing much provisions and stores overboard. having agreed upon signals between our two ships, and appointed places of rendezvous in case of separation, and how long to wait at each for one another, we took sailing orders from the hastings man of war on the st september, the better to keep company of her and a fleet bound to the southward and westward. we sailed that day, and the next we and our consort stood out from the fleet to chase a sail we saw to windward, when we had the satisfaction to find that our ship sailed as well as any in the fleet, not excepting the man of war, so that we hoped we should find our heels, although so deeply laden. we found the chase to be a small vessel coming from baltimore to join the fleet. on the th, captain paul of the hastings proposed to captain courtney and me, after he left the fleet, which would be soon, to cruise in company a few days off cape finister, and obligingly supplied us with some scrubbers, iron scrapers for the ships bottoms, a speaking-trumpet, and some other things of which we were in want, and would not accept any thing in return, as our voyage was to be so long, saying he hoped our owners would restore the same articles for his ship on his return. that evening, calling our crews on deck, we informed them whither we were bound, and the objects of our expedition; that if any disputes or mutinies had arisen, we might have sent home the refractory in the man of war. only one poor fellow was dissatisfied, who was to have been tithing-man that year, and feared his wife might have to pay forty shillings for his default; but seeing all around him pleased with the hope of plunder, he too became easy, and drank as heartily as any one to the success of the voyage. we gave chase to a ship on the th september, about six in the morning, which we came up with about three in the afternoon, when she shewed swedish colours. on examining the master, we found he had come round scotland and ireland, and suspected he had contraband of war, as some of the men, whom we found drunk, told us they had gunpowder and cables on board; wherefore we resolved to examine her strictly, putting twelve of our men on board, and taking the swedish master and twelve of his men aboard our ships. next morning, having examined the men and searched the ship, we found it difficult to prove her a legal prize, and, not willing to lose time in carrying her into a port for farther examination, we let her go without embezzlement. she was a frigate-built ship, of about tons, and twenty-two guns, belonging to stadt, near hamburgh. the crew of the duke mutinied, headed by our boatswain and other three inferior officers, alleging the swede was a good prize, and had much contraband goods on board, though we could find none: but being supported by my officers, well armed, i at length pacified the men, after putting ten of the mutineers in irons, and soundly whipping a sailor who had excited the rest. this mutiny would not have been easily got the better of, but for the number of our officers, whom we now found very useful in bringing our crews under good discipline, a very difficult matter in privateers, and without which it is utterly impossible to succeed in distant and important enterprises. we sent home giles cash, our boatswain, in irons, on board the crown galley, with letters to our owners, justifying our severity; and next morning i discharged our prisoners from their irons, on their humble submission, and solemn promise of dutiful behaviour in future. on the th, between fuertaventura and grand canary, we chased and took a small spanish ship, bound from teneriff to fuertaventura, having several men and women passengers, and laden with a variety of goods. next day we bore away for oratavia roads, where, after much discussion, we sold the vessel for dollars, retaining all her goods. the th september we put into the harbour of st vincent, one of the cape de verd islands, coming to anchor in ten fathoms within the rock. seeing several men on shore, though the island is not inhabited, captain cook went in the pinnace, well armed, to see who they were, and found them some portuguese from st antonio, come to catch turtles or sea-tortoises, who told him we could have wood and water at this island, which is in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. from greenwich. it has great plenty of guinea fowl, with some hogs and goats; and we caught abundance of fish in the road. in the woods there are great numbers of spiders as large as walnuts, and their webs are very troublesome to get through, being very numerous, and as strong as ordinary threads. while here, new disturbances arose among the men, in relation to the effects taken in the late prize; as we had here an opportunity of purchasing various things, and every one wished to have the means of purchasing. to put an end to all these heart-burnings, and to fix the people in a resolution of doing their duty, we determined to settle this affair by framing such articles as might inspire the seamen with courage and constancy, and make them as willing to obey as the officers to command, without giving our owners any cause of complaint. it cost us some trouble to adjust these articles, but they effectually answered our purpose, and all our people readily agreed to abide by them. after staying two days here, in which we heeled our ships, and got wood and water on board, our boat returned with limes and tobacco; but our linguist, who had been sent ashore to procure refreshments, did not make his appearance. soon after there came a boat from that part of the island where the governor resides, on board of which was the deputy-governor, a negro, who brought limes, tobacco, oranges, fowls, potatoes, hogs, bananas, musk-melons, watermelons, and brandy, all of which we bought of him, paying in prize goods we had taken out of the bark at the canaries, and at a cheap rate; for they are a poor people, and are ready to truck for any thing they want at any price, in such payments as they can make. being ready to sail, we called a council to consider what was to be done in respect to the absence of our linguist, who had promised the deputy-governor to wait for him at the water-side, but had broke his word; and therefore, as his absence seemed to be entirely his own fault, it was unanimously resolved that we ought to leave him behind, rather than our two ships should wait for one man, who had disobeyed orders. we were the more inclined to this, that others might learn, by this example, to comply with their instructions when sent ashore, and might come aboard again without delay, after completing their business, and not flatter themselves that fair words and fine excuses were to atone for breach of duty, to humour the fancies of individuals, at the expence of delaying the voyage. this was certainly but an indifferent place for our linguist to be left in; but he knew the people and the language, and might easily get a passage home. we persisted therefore in our resolution, and gave orders for sailing as soon as possible, that we might not lose the proper season, and be obliged to double cape horn at a wrong time of the year. captain dampier and others in our ships, who had formerly put in at st jago, another of the cape verd islands, said that this island of st vincent, though not so much frequented, is preferable to st jago for outward-bound ships, as its road is much better, has better land, and is more convenient for wood and water. the island is mountainous and barren, its plainest part being over against the sandy bay where we anchored. the wood growing upon it is short, and only fit for fuel. we watered at a little stream that flows from a spring down the hill, and is good fresh-water, the others in that neighbourhood being brackish. it was formerly inhabited and had a governor, but is now only frequented by the inhabitants of the other islands in the season for catching turtle, these islanders being mostly negroes and mulattoes, and very poor. the stock of wild goats on this island has been mostly destroyed by the inhabitants of st nicholas and st antonio. the heat at this place was so excessive to us, newly from europe, that several of our men became sick, and were blooded. there are a few wild asses; and some of our officers wounded one, after a long chase, yet he held out, and tired them. these islands are named from cape verd, on the coast of africa, whence they lie about leagues to the west.[ ] they are ten in number, of which st jago, st nicholas, bonavista, st antonio, brava, mayo, and fuego are inhabited. _st jago_ is much the largest and best, and is the seat of the chief governor. besides sugar and tobacco, this island produces a small quantity of indigo, which, with goat-skins and some other articles, are sent to lisbon. the capital is named likewise st jago, and is the see of a bishop. there is another town, named _ribera grande_, said to consist of houses, which has a good harbour. the air of this island is rather unwholesome, and the soil is very unequal, the vallies producing some corn and wine. the goats are fat and good eating, the females usually producing three or four kids at a birth, once in four months. _st nicholas_ is the best peopled next after st jago. _mayo_ has a great deal of salt, formed by the heat of the sun in pits, or ponds, into which the sea-water is let from time to time, and might furnish many thousand tons yearly, if there were vent for it. the fine _marroquin_ leather is made from the goat-skins brought from these islands. [footnote : the difference of longitude between the cape and islands is seven degrees w. or marine leagues.--e.] we sailed from st vincent on the th october; and in our passage to the coast of brazil some new disputes arose among the men. after various consultations, it was determined that one page, second mate of the duchess, should be removed into the duke, whence mr ballet was to remove into the duchess. captain cooke was sent to execute this order, which page refused to obey, but was brought away by force. being accused of mutiny, he requested leave to go to the head before entering on his defence, which was permitted, when he jumped overboard, meaning to swim to the duchess, while both captains were absent; but he was brought back and punished, which ended this dissension. the th november we anchored before isla grande, on the coast of brazil, in eleven fathoms. while here new quarrels arose, and matters had like to have come to a great height in the duchess, when captain courtney put eight of the ringleaders in irons, which frightened the rest, and probably prevented an attempt to run away with the ship. on the d two men deserted from the duchess, but were so frightened in the night by tigers, as they supposed, though only monkeys and baboons, that they took refuge in the sea, and hallooed with all their might till they were fetched on board: yet, on the th, two irish landmen stole away into the woods; but both were taken next day, and put in irons. this island is remarkably high land, having a small cliff and a tip standing up on one side, in the middle of the highest land, easily seen in clear weather; and there is a small island without _isla grande_ to the southward, rising in three little hummocks, the nearest hummock to the great island being the smallest. there is also a singularly round white rock on the larboard side, nearest isla grande, at the entrance between it and the main going in. on the starboard-side of this entrance there are several islands, and even the main land has much the appearance of islands till well in. the best way is, when you have opened the coves on the starboard-side going in, which are inhabited, to get a pilot to carry you to the watering-cove on isla grande; otherwise send a boat to the watering-cove, which lies round the inner and western point of the island, and is near a league in the passage between small islands, but room enough and bold. it is the second cove, under the first high mount, round behind the first-seen point, after getting in between, the two islands. this is the cove at which we watered; and we sounded all the passage going in, having seldom less than ten fathoms. there are other two very good coves, but we had not time to sound them. the town is n.e. from this cove, about three leagues distant. _isla grande_ is about nine leagues long, consisting of high land, as in the main, and all near the water is thickly covered with wood. the island abounds with monkeys and other wild beasts, and has plenty of good timber for various uses as well as fuel, with excellent water; and oranges, lemons, and guavas grow wild in the woods. from the town we procured rum, sugar, and tobacco, and the last is sold very dear, though not good for smoking, being too strong. we got also fowls and hogs, but the latter were scarce and dear; likewise maize, or indian corn, bananas, plantains, guavas, lemons, oranges, and pine-apples are in great plenty; but they have no bread except _cassada_, which they call _faranada pan_, or bread of wood. beef and mutton were cheap, but no great quantity to be had. we had fine pleasant weather most of the time we were here, but hot like an oven, as the sun was quite vertical. the winds we did not much observe, as they were little and variable, but commonly between the n. and e. i had neuhoff's account of brazil on board, and from all the enquiry and observation i could make, i found his description of the country, with its animals and productions, to be just. i particularly enquired respecting the monster called the _liboya_, or roebuck-serpent, thinking it fabulous; but the portuguese governor assured me that they are sometimes found thirty feet long, and as big round as a barrel, being able to swallow a roebuck at one morsel, whence it has its name; and he told me that one of these enormous serpents had been killed near the town, a short time before our arrival. the principal products of brazil are red wood, bearing the name of the country; sugar, gold, tobacco, snuff, whale oil, and various kinds of drugs; and the portuguese build their best ships in this country. brazil has now become very populous, and the people take great delight in arms, especially about the gold mines, to which people of all kinds resort in great numbers, especially negroes and mulattoes. only four years ago [in ] these people endeavoured to make themselves independent, but have now submitted. some men of repute told me that the gold mines increase fast in productiveness, and that the gold is got much easier in them than in any other country. the indigenous brazilian women are very fruitful, and have easy labours, on which occasion they retire into the woods, and bring forth alone, and return home after washing themselves and their child; the husbands lying a-bed for the first twenty-four hours, being treated as if they had endured the pains of child-birth. the _tapoyers_, who inhabit the inland country to the west, are the most barbarous of the natives, being taller and stronger than any of the other tribes, and indeed than most europeans. they wear, by way of ornament, little sticks thrust through their cheeks and underlips, and are said to be cannibals, using poisoned arrows and darts. they live chiefly by hunting and fishing, shifting their habitations according to the seasons. their kings, or chiefs, are distinguished by a particular manner of shaving their crowns, and by wearing their nails very long. their priests are sorcerers, making the people believe that the devils appear to them in the form of certain insects, and they perform their diabolical worship in the night, when the women make dismal howlings, in which consists their principal devotion. they allow polygamy, yet punish adultery with death. when the young women are marriageable, but not courted, their mothers carry them to the chiefs, who deflower them, and this is deemed a great honour. some of these people were considerably civilized by the dutch, while they possessed a part of brazil, and did them good service under the conduct of their native chiefs. leaving isla grande on the th november, we continued our voyage far to the south, where we endured great cold, owing to which, a third part of both ships companies fell sick while passing round cape horn, for which reason we bore away for the island of juan fernandez, which we had some difficulty to find, owing to its being laid down differently in all the charts. even captain dampier was much at a loss, though he had been there so often, and had as it were a map of the island in his head, which exactly agreed with it when we came there. this ought to induce sea-officers to prefer their own proper business to amusement, since, with all this knowledge, we were forced to make the main land of chili, in order to find this island, and did not strike it at the last without considerable difficulty. we arrived at the island of _juan fernandez_ on the st february , and having a good observation the day before, when we found our lat. ° ' s.[ ] in the afternoon we hoisted out our pinnace, in which captain dover set off to go on shore, though not less than four leagues from the ship. as it grew dark, we observed a light on shore, which some were of opinion was from our boat, but it was evidently too large for that, and we hung up a light to direct our boat, firing our quarter-deck gun, and showing lights in our mizen and fore shrouds, that our boat might find us, as we had fallen to leeward of the island. our boat came aboard again about two in the morning, having turned back on seeing the light ashore when within a league, and we were glad they had got off so well, as it now began to blow. we were all convinced that the light which we had seen was from the shore, and therefore prepared our ships for an engagement, supposing it might proceed from some french ships at anchor, which we must either fight or want water. all this stir and apprehension, as we afterwards found, arose from one poor man, who passed in our imaginations for a spanish garrison, a body of frenchmen, or a crew of pirates, and it is incredible what strange notions some of our people entertained about this light; yet it served to show their tempers and spirits, and enabled us to guess how our men would behave, in case there really were enemies on the island. [footnote : juan fernandez is in lat ° ' s. long. ° w. massa faera, in the same latitude, is in long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] while under these apprehensions, we stood to the back of the island in order to fall in with the southerly wind, till we were past the island. we then stood back for it again, and ran close aboard the land that begins to form its n.e. side. the flaws came heavy off the land, and we were forced to reef our top-sails when we opened the middle bay, where we expected to have found our enemy, but saw all clear, and no ships either there or in the other bay near the n.e. end. these are the only bays in which ships can ride that come here for refreshments, the middle one being the best. we now conjectured that there had been ships here, but that they had gone away on seeing us. about noon of the d february, we sent our yawl on shore, in which was captain dover, mr fry, and six men, all armed; and in the mean time we and the duchess kept turning in, and such heavy squalls came off the land that we had to let fly our top-sail sheets, keeping all hands to stand by our sails, lest the winds should blow them away. these flaws proceed from the land, which is very high in the middle of the island; but when they passed by, we had little or no wind. as our yawl did not return, we sent the pinnace well armed, to see what had occasioned the yawl to stay, being afraid there might be a spanish garrison on the island, who might have seized her and our men. even the pinnace delays returning, on which we put up a signal for her to come back, when she soon came off with abundance of cray-fish, bringing also a man cloathed in goat-skins, who seemed wilder than the original owners of his apparel. his name was _alexander selkirk_, a scotsman, who had been left here by captain stradling in the cinque-ports, and had lived alone on the island for four years and four months. captain dampier told me he had been master of the cinque-ports, and was the best man in that vessel; so i immediately agreed with him to serve as a mate in the duke. during his stay, he had seen several ships pass by, but only two came to anchor at the island, which he found to be spaniards, and therefore retired from them, on which they fired at him, but he escaped into the woods. had they been french, he would have surrendered to them; but chose rather to run the risk of dying alone on the island than fall into the hands of the spaniards, as he suspected they would either put him to death, or make him a slave in their mines. the spaniards had landed before he knew what they were, and came so near him that he had much ado to escape; for they not only shot at him, but pursued him into the woods, where he climbed up a tree, at the foot of which some of them made water, and killed several goats just by, yet went away without discovering him. he told us that he was born in largo, in the county of fife in scotland, and was bred a sailor from his youth. the reason of his being left here was a difference with captain stradling; which, together with the ship being leaky, made him at first rather willing to stay here than to continue in the ship; and when at last he was inclined to have gone, the captain would not receive him. he had been at the island before to wood and water, when two of the men were left upon it for six months, the ship being chased away by two french south-sea ships; but the cinque-ports returned and took them off, at which time he was left. he had with him his clothes and bedding, with a firelock and some powder and bullets, some tobacco, a knife, a kettle, a bible, with some other books, and his mathematical instruments. he diverted himself and provided for his sustenance as well as he could; but had much ado to bear up against melancholy for the first eight months, and was sore distressed at being left alone in such a desolate place. he built himself two huts of pimento trees, thatched with long grass, and lined with goat-skins, killing goats as he needed them with his gun, so long as his powder lasted, which was only about a pound at first. when that was all spent, he procured fire by rubbing two sticks of pimento wood together. he slept in his larger hut, and cooked his victuals in the smaller, which was at some distance, and employed himself in reading, praying, and singing psalms, so that he said he was a better christian during his solitude than he had ever been before, or than, as he was afraid, he should ever be again. at first he never ate but when constrained by hunger, partly from grief; and partly for want of bread and salt. neither did he then go to bed till he could watch no longer, the pimento wood serving him both for fire and candle, as it burned very clear, and refreshed him by its fragrant smell. he might have had fish enough, but would not eat them for want of salt, as they occasioned a looseness; except cray-fish, which are as large as our lobsters, and are very good. these he sometimes boiled, and at other times broiled, as he did his goat's flesh, of which he made good broth, for they are not so rank as our goats. having kept an account, he said he had killed goats while on the island, besides having caught as many more, which he marked on the ear and let them go. when his powder failed, he run down the goats by speed of foot; for his mode of living, with continual exercise of walking and running, cleared him of all gross humours, so that he could run with wonderful swiftness through the woods, and up the hills and rocks, as we experienced in catching goats for us. we had a bull-dog, which we sent along with several of our nimblest runners to help him in catching goats, but he outstript our dog and men, caught the goats, and brought them to us on his back. on one occasion, his agility in pursuing a goat had nearly cost him his life: as, while pursuing it with great eagerness, he caught hold of it on the brink of a precipice, of which, he was not aware, being concealed by bushes, so that he fell with the goat down the precipice to a great depth, and was so bruised and stunned by the fall, that he lay senseless, as he supposed, for twenty-four hours, and when he recovered his senses found the goat dead under him. he was then scarcely able to crawl to his hut, about a mile distant, and could not stir out again for ten days. he came at length to relish his meat well enough without bread and salt. in the proper season he had plenty of good turnips, which had been sowed there by captain dampier's men, and had now spread over several acres of ground. he had also abundance of cabbage, from the cabbage-palms, and seasoned his food with the fruit of the pimento, which is the same with jamaica pepper, and has a fine flavour. he found also a species of black pepper, called _malageta_, which was good for expelling wind and curing gripes. he soon wore out all his shoes and other clothes, by running in the woods; and, being forced to shift without, his feet became so hard that he ran about every where without inconvenience, and it was some time after he came to us before he could wear shoes, as his feet swelled when he first began again to wear them. after he had got the better of his melancholy, he sometimes amused himself with carving his name on the trees, together with the date of his being left there, and the time of his solitary residence. at first he was much pestered with cats and rats, which had bred there in great numbers from some of each species which had got on shore from ships that had wooded and watered at the island. the rats gnawed his feet and clothes when he was asleep, which obliged him to cherish the cats, by feeding them with goats flesh, so that many of them became so tame that they used to lie beside him in hundreds, and soon delivered him from the rats. he also tamed some kids, and for his diversion would at times sing and dance with them and his cats: so that, by the favour of providence and the vigour of his youth, for he was now only thirty years of age, he came at length to conquer all the inconveniences of his solitude, and to be quite easy in his mind. when his clothes were worn out, he made himself a coat and a cap of goat skins, which he stitched together with thongs of the same, cut out with his knife, using a nail by way of a needle or awl. when his knife was worn out, he made others as well as he could of some old hoops that had been left on the shore, which he beat out thin between two stones, and grinded to an edge on a smooth stone. having some linen cloth, he sewed himself some shirts by means of a nail for a needle, stitching them with worsted, which he pulled out on purpose from his old stockings, and he had the last of his shirts on when we found him. at his first coming on board, he had so much forgotten his language, for want of use, that we could scarcely understand him, as he seemed to speak his words only by halves. we offered him a dram, which he refused, not having drank any thing but water all the time he had been on the island, and it was some time before he could relish our provisions. he could give us no farther account of the productions of the island than has been already, except that there were some very good black plums, but hard to come at, as the trees which bear them grow on high mountains and steep rocks. there are many pimento trees, some of them being sixty feet high and two yards round; and we saw cotton trees still higher, and near four fathoms round the stems. the climate is excellent, and the trees and grass are quite verdant the whole year. the winter lasts no longer than june and july, and is not then severe, there being then only slight frosts and a little hail, but sometimes very great rains. the heat of summer is equally moderate, and there is not much thunder or tempestuous weather. he saw no venomous, or savage creature on the island, nor any other beasts besides goats, bred there from a few brought by juan fernandez, a spaniard, who settled there with a few families, till the continent of chili began to submit to the spaniards when they removed to that country as more profitable. this island, however, might maintain a good many people, and is capable of being made so strong that they could not be easily dislodged. we got our smith's forge ashore on the d february, and set our coopers to work to repair our water casks. they made a little tent also for me on shore, to enjoy the benefit of the land air. the two ships also set up tents for their sick, so that we had presently a kind of small town, in which all who were able were busily employed. a few men supplied us with excellent fish, in such abundance that they could take as many in a few hours as would serve men for a meal. there were some sea-fowl in the bay, as large as geese, but they eat fishy. the governor, for so we called mr selkirk, never failed to procure us two or three goats every day for our sick men, by which, with the help of cabbages and other vegetables, and the wholesome air, our men soon recovered from the scurvy, and we found this island exceedingly agreeable, the weather being neither too hot nor too cold. we spent our time till the th in refitting our ships, taking wood on board, and laying in a stock of water, that which we brought from england, st vincents, and isla grande, being spoilt by the badness of our casks. we also boiled up and refined eighty gallons of oil of sea-lions, which we used in lamps to save candles, and might have prepared several tons, if we had been provided with vessels. the sailors sometimes used this oil to fry their fish, for want of butter, and found it sufficiently agreeable. the men who worked ashore in repairing our rigging, eat the young seals, which they preferred to our ship's provisions, alleging that it was as good as english lamb. we made all the haste we could to get every thing on board, as we learnt at the canaries that five stout french privateers were coming in company into the south sea. this island of juan fernandez is about fifteen english miles in length from e. to w. and five miles where broadest, but averaging little more than two miles in breadth, and is mostly composed of high rugged land. i know of nothing in its neighbourhood which may endanger a ship, except what is distinctly visible. we anchored in the great bay, [la baia or cumberland harbour] on the n.e. side, about a mile from the bottom of the bay, our best bower being dropt in forty fathoms, and the stream anchor carried in with the shore, where it was laid in about thirty fathoms. we here had plenty of several sorts of fish, as silver-fish, snappers, bonitoes, cavallos, pollocks, old wives, and cray-fish of great size. the wind blows here generally off the shore, sometimes in heavy squalls, but for the most part calm, and where we were moored the water was very smooth, owing to the winding of the shore. mr selkirk told us it had never blown towards the land above four hours, all the time he had been there. it is all hills and vallies, and would doubtless produce most plants usual in such climates, if manured and cultivated, as the soil promises well in most parts, and already grows turnips and some other roots, which i suppose were formerly sowed. it has plenty of wood and water, and abundance of wild goats. there are such numbers of great sea-lions and other seals of various sorts, all having excellent furs, in every bay, that we could hardly walk about along shore for them, as they lay about in flocks like sheep, their young ones bleating for their dams like so many lambs. some of these sea-lions are as big in the body as an english ox, and they roar like lions. they are covered with short hair of a light colour, which is still lighter on the young ones. i suppose they live partly on fish and partly on grass, for they come on shore by means of their fore paws, dragging their hind parts after them, and bask themselves in the sun in great numbers. they cut near a foot deep of fat, and we killed a good many of them for the sake of their oil, which is of good quality, but they are difficult to kill. both sea-lions and seals were so numerous on the shore, that we had to drive them away before we could land, and they were so numerous as is hardly credible, making a most prodigious noise. there are but few birds. one sort, called _pardelas_ by the spaniards, burrow in the ground like rabbits, and are said to be good eating. there are also _humming-birds_, not much larger than bumble bees, their bills no thicker than a pin, their legs proportional to their bodies, and their minute feathers of most beautiful colours. these are seldom taken or seen but in the evenings, when they fly about, and they flew sometimes at night into our fire. there is here a sort of cabbage tree, of the nature of a palm, producing small cabbages, but very sweet. the tree is slender and straight, with circular knobs on the stem fourteen inches above each other, and having no leaves except at the top. the branches are about twelve feet long, and at about a foot and a half from the body of the tree begin to shoot out leaves, which are four feet long and an inch broad, and so regularly placed that the whole branch seems one entire leaf. the cabbage, which grows out from the bottom of the branches, is about a foot long and very white; and at the bottom of this there grow clusters of berries, weighing five or six pounds, like bunches of grapes, as red as cherries and larger than our black-heart cherries, each having a large stone in the middle, and the pulp eats like our haws. these cabbage trees abound about three miles into the woods, the trunk being often eighty or ninety feet high, and is always cut down to get the cabbages, which are good eating; but most of them grow on the tops of the nearest mountains to the great bay. we found here some guinea pepper, and some silk cotton trees, besides several others with the names of which i am not acquainted. pimento is the best timber, and the most plentiful at this side of the island, but it is very apt to split till it is a little dried. we cut the longest and cleanest to split for fire wood. in the nearest plain, we found abundance of turnip greens, and water-cresses in the brooks, which greatly refreshed our men, and quickly cured them of the scurvy. mr selkirk said the turnips formed good roots in our summer months, which are winter at this island; but this being autumn, they were all run up to seed, so that we had no benefit of them excepting their green leaves and shoots. the soil is a loose black earth, and the rocks are very rotten, so that it is dangerous to climb the hills for cabbages without great care. there are also many holes dug into the ground by a sort of birds called _puffins_, which give way in walking, and endanger the breaking or wrenching a limb. mr selkirk said he had seen snow and ice here in july, the depth of the southern winter; but in september, october, and november, the spring months, the climate is very pleasant, and there are then abundance of excellent herbs, as purslein, parsley, and sithes. we found also an herb, not unlike _feverfew_, which proved very useful to our surgeons for fomentations. it has a most grateful smell like balm, but stronger and more cordial, and grew in plenty near the shore. we gathered many large bundles of it, which were dried in the shade, and sent aboard for after-use, besides strewing the tents with it fresh gathered every morning, which tended much to the recovery of our sick, of whom, though numerous when we came here, only two died belonging to the duchess. we found the nights very cold, and the days not near so warm as might have been expected in so low a latitude. it hardly ever rains, instead of which there fall very heavy dews in the night, which serve the purposes of rain, and the air is almost perpetually serene. the th february we held a consultation, in which we framed several regulations for preserving secrecy, discipline, and strict honesty in both vessels: and on the th we determined that two men from the duke should serve in the duchess, and two of her men in the duke, to see that justice was reciprocally done by each ship's company to the other. the th we tried both pinnaces in the water under sail, having a gun fixed in each, and every thing else requisite to render them very useful small privateers. section ii. _proceedings of the expedition on the western coast of america_. in the evening of the th march[ ] we saw a sail, and the duchess being nearest soon took her. she was a small bark of sixteen tons from payta, bound to cheripe for flour, having a small sum of money on board to make the purchase, being commanded by a _mestizo_, or one begotten between a spaniard and an indian, having a crew of eight men, one a spaniard, another a negro, and all the rest indians. on asking for news, we were told, that all the french ships, being seven in number, had left the south sea six months before, and no more were to come there; adding, that the spaniards had such an aversion to them, that they had killed many frenchmen at callao, the port of lima, and quarrelled with them so frequently that none of them were suffered to come ashore there for some time before they sailed. [footnote : it is quite obvious that they had now left juan fernandez, but this circumstance and its date are omitted by harris.--e.] after putting some men aboard the prize, we haled close upon a wind for the isle of _lobos_, and had we not been informed by our prisoners, had endangered our ships by running too far within that isle, as there are shoals between the island and the main, having a passage for boats only in that direction to get into the road which is to leeward of these islands in a sound between them. this sound is a mile long and half a mile wide, and has from ten to twelve fathoms on good ground. the only entrance for ships is to leeward of the islands. we went in with a small weather tide, but i could never observe it to flow above three feet while we were there. on the eastermost island there is a round hummock, behind which is a small cove, very smooth, deep, and convenient enough for careening a ship; we here hauled up and fitted our prize, which we named the _beginning_. the highest part of the island of lobos, as seen from the road, did not seem much higher than the top-mast head of a large ship. the soil is a hungry white clayish earth, mixed with sand and rocks; and there is no fresh water, nor any green thing to be seen on either of the islands. they are frequented by many vultures or carrion crows, and looked so like turkeys that one of our officers was rejoiced at the sight, expecting to fare sumptuously, and would not wait till the boat could put him ashore, but leapt into the water with his gun, and let fly at a parcel of them; but, when he came to take up his game, it stunk most abominably, and made us merry at his expence. the other birds here are pelicans, penguins, boobies, gulls, and one resembling teal, which nestle in holes under ground. our men got great numbers of these birds, which they said were good meat after being skinned. we found abundance of bulrushes and empty jars, which the spanish fishers had left on shore; for all over this western coast of america, they use earthen jars instead of casks, for containing oil, wine, and all other liquids. there are here abundance of sea-lions and seals, the latter being much larger than those we saw at juan fernandez, but their fur not so fine. our people killed several of these, on purpose to eat their livers; but a spaniard on board died suddenly after eating them, and i forbade their use, and we learnt also from our prisoners that the old seals are very unwholesome. the wind commonly blows here fresh from the south, veering to the east, and coming over the land to where we lay, brought with it a most noisome smell from the seals on shore, which gave me a violent headach, and offended every one else extremely. we found nothing so offensive at juan fernandez. our prisoners told as, that the widow of the late viceroy of peru was soon expected to embark in a spanish man of war of thirty-six guns for acapulco, with her family and riches; on which voyage she would either stop at payta for refreshments, or pass in sight of that place, as is customary. they said also that about eight months before, a ship had passed payta for acapulco, loaded with flour and liquors, and having , dollars on board. also, that they had left signior morel at payta, in a ship laden with dry goods, who was expected to sail shortly for lima; and that a stout french-built ship richly laden, and having a bishop on board, was shortly expected at payta. this is the common place for refreshments, and is frequented by most ships from lima or other parts to windward, on their way to panama or other ports on the western coast of mexico. on this information, we determined to spend as much time as possible cruising off payta, so as not to discover that we were in these seas lest we should thereby hinder our other designs. in pursuance of this plan, we took a galleon on the st april, of tons burden, commanded by two brothers, joseph and juan morel, laden with dry goods and negroes; and next day we took another prize. we now determined to make an attack on the town of _guayaquil_; and on the th april, in a grand consultation, this enterprize was fully resolved upon, and a paper of instructions was drawn up for the guidance of the officers who were to command, so that each might be taught and kept to his duty. this enterprize was to be conducted by the three captains, rogers, courtney, and dover. captain dover was to command the van division, consisting of seventy marines; rogers the centre company, of seventy-one men, mostly officers and sailors; and courtney the rear-guard, of seventy-three men; while captain dampier, with a reserve of twenty-two men, was to bring up some pieces of cannon, to be employed if necessary. our force therefore on this occasion consisted of men.[ ] captain cooke was to remain in the duchess with forty-two men, and captain fry in the duke with forty, our entire force being men, while we had about prisoners in both ships, including indians and negroes. [footnote : the enumeration in the text gives only men.--e.] every thing being arranged, we bore in for cape _blanco_ on the th, of which we had sight about noon, bearing e.s.e. ten leagues off. on the th in the morning we saw a ship near the shore, and having little wind, the duke's boat, commanded by captain fry, and that of the duchess by captain cooke, rowed directly for her, going off in such haste that neither of them had the swivel guns commonly used in the boats, neither had they their full complement of men, and only ten muskets and four pistols, with not much powder and shot, and no water. they rowed very hard for six leagues to get up with the ship, and on mr fry getting near, she hoisted spanish colours. we could plainly see that she was french-built, and therefore concluded that it must be the ship we had long looked for, which was to carry the bishop. our ships being almost out of sight, and the chase near the coast, making the best of her way to run ashore in a sandy bay, we resolved to lay her on board, one of our boats on each bow, i[ ] being then on her weather quarter, and captain fry on her lee. it was our intention to pretend that we were friends, till we should get out of the way of her stern-chase guns; but the duke's men, conceiving the spaniards were going to give us a volley, poured in their shot. we then laid in our oars, and fell to with our small arms. we kept up a constant fire for a long time, which was returned by the spaniards, who killed two of captain fry's men, and wounded one of his and two of mine. one of the dead men was john rogers, our second lieutenant, and brother to captain woods rogers, who had behaved himself gallantly. finding the enterprize too difficult, captain fry drew off his boat, as i did soon after. captain fry then put some of his men aboard my boat, giving us some powder and shot, and taking in our wounded men, on which he stood away towards our ships, while i resolved to keep the chase if possible from running on shore, and rather than fail to clap her on board. seeing our design, the enemy edged off to sea, and we after them. our ships came up apace, while we kept close to the spaniard, sometimes firing at him. at length the duchess got up and fired a shot or two, on which she struck, and we immediately boarded. the men begged for quarter, and we promised them all civility. this ship was of tons, commanded by don joseph arizabella, and had come from panama bound for lima, where she was to have been fitted out as a man of war, the captain having his commission on board for that purpose. she had seventy negroes on board, with many passengers. the loading was bale goods, with some things belonging to the bishop, and a considerable quantity of pearls; but the bishop had been landed at point st helena, whence he was to go by land to guayaquil. many of the passengers were considerable merchants at lima, and the briskest spaniards i ever saw. after the capture of this ship, captain cooke remained on board, sending her captain and the rest of the prisoners to the duke and duchess. [footnote : this particular action is related by harris in the words of captain cooke, who commanded the boat from the duchess.--e.] we now proceeded on our intended expedition against guayaquil, sending the _beginning_ ahead to _punta arena_, or sandy point, on the island of puna, to see if there was any force to oppose us; but she only found a spanish bark, quite empty, riding close under the point. she had been sent to load salt, but her men had abandoned her on seeing us approach. at five in the afternoon, our whole force intended for the attack upon guayaquil, being embarked in boats, rowed for that place; and at eleven at night we could see a light in the town, on which we rowed as easy as we could and in silence, for fear of being discovered; till we were within a mile of the place. we then heard a sentinel call to another, and after conversing for some time, bid him bring fire. perceiving we were now discovered, we rowed to the other side of the river, opposite the town, whence we saw a fire lighted up at the place where the centinels had talked, and soon after we could see lights all over the town and at the water side, heard them ring the alarm bell, fire several vollies, and saw a fire lighted on the hill where the beacon was kept, all on purpose to give notice to the town and neighbourhood that we were come into the river. our boats were now moored with grapplings, and so hot a dispute took place among some of our officers, that they were heard on shore; but as the spaniards did not understand what they said, an english prisoner was brought to the shore to interpret what they heard. by the time he came, the dispute was over; but this englishman afterwards joined us, and gave us this account. we held a council in the stern sheets of one of our boats, to consider whether we should land immediately or wait till day-light; and, as the barks were not come up, in which were the artillery and half of our men, and as we did not know the ground sufficiently to act in the dark, it was agreed to wait till day, by which time it was hoped the barks would join. we accordingly fell down the river a short way, to meet our barks, hearing several musket shots by the way. on the d april at day-break, we saw one of our barks at anchor within a mile of the town, close under the shore, and the other coming up the river with the tide of flood. we then rowed up to our bark, which had fired the shots we heard in the night at some fishermen passing by, whom they took. all our force being now joined, we proceeded up the river, and sent a flag of truce on shore, accompanied by don joseph arizabella, the governor of puna, and another prisoner; and then towed up our barks over against the town, where we came to an anchor. when captain arizabella came with our flag of truce before the corregidor or mayor of guayaquill, he enquired our numbers, which the captain magnified, on which the corregidore said we were boys, not men. to this the captain answered, he would find them men, and brave ones too, for they had fought him gallantly in their open boats, although he had slain the brother of their commander and others; and therefore advised him to agree for the ransom of the town, as even if he had men he would be unable to withstand the english. to this the corregidore replied, _my horse is ready_. after bringing our barks to anchor, we went up the river after some vessels, six of which we secured and brought to anchor beside our barks. we also took possession of two new ships of about tons burden each. soon after this, the governor came on board one of the prizes, to treat for the ransom of the town and ships, but could not then agree, but promised to meet the captains again at seven in the evening, but did not keep his sword. this evening our boats took some canoes having silver on board. on the th in the morning, the governor came off again to treat, but no agreement could be made; and at four in the afternoon we landed all our men in good order, when the spaniards only fired one volley and then fled. our men pursued them to where their cannon were placed, which they soon gained possession of, only one gunner, an irishman, remaining by them till he was wounded in four places, of which he soon afterwards died. we marched through both towns in a compact body, driving the enemy before us, and then placed three guards in the three churches, setting fire to five or six houses which stood near to a wood into which the spaniards had fled, that they might not have the cover of these houses to annoy our guard, which stood within pistol shot. all night they kept firing at our sentinels from the woods, yet without doing us any harm. several parties also of horse and foot came out of the wood, as if to attack us, but made no attempt. in the mean time, the pinnace belonging to the duchess, in which was lieutenant connely and twenty-two men, went up the river, landed at every house near its banks, and brought away all the plate and other articles of value they could find. in this service, they had some skirmishing with the enemy, in which one of our men was wounded. on the th the enemy appeared numerous in the woods, whence they sometimes came out and skirmished with our guards, in which one of our men was wounded. we spent the afternoon in sending off provisions from the town to our ships, and in disposing all things in readiness in case of being attacked in the night, as the enemy appeared numerous about the outskirts. for this reason, all the captains concentrated our whole force at the main guard, where we had our cannon in readiness. messengers arrived with a flag of truce in the morning of the th, to treat for ransoming the town, but could not agree; but in the afternoon it was at length agreed to pay , dollars for its ransom, giving three hostages, and we were to remain at puna till they had time to raise the sum, as the inhabitants had carried away their money, and being so dispersed that it was impossible to collect the money while we were there, even the inhabitants of the adjacent country having carried off their valuable effects into the interior. in the morning of the th, the hostages for the ransom were sent on board one of our barks, together with a boatload of brandy; and, as agreed upon with the spaniards, we took down our union jack, hoisted a flag of truce, and fired a signal gun, that the spaniards might come freely into the town, and that no hostilities should take place on either side during the time we had agreed to wait for the money. the purpose of admitting the spanish inhabitants was to prevent the indians and negroes from robbing; and i am apt to believe they had already robbed as much as we had plundered, for we had taken many of them loaded with goods, while going our rounds, which they confessed to have stolen; and we were afterwards informed, that the inhabitants, in their hurry, had given much plate and money to negroes to carry out of town, which they could never hear of afterwards. the th in the morning we took a small spanish bark, coming from cheripe to guayaquil, on board of which were bags of meal, and arobas or hundred-weights of sugar, with some onions, quinces, and pomegranates. this, with the six barks and two great ships ransomed with the town of guayaquil, made prizes taken in the south sea. the plunder taken in guayaquil, exclusive of the ransom, was very considerable. we found bags of flour, beans, peas, and rice; jars of oil, besides jars of other liquor; some cordage, iron ware, and nails; about four half jars of powder; about a ton of pitch and tar; bales of dry goods; a few packs of indigo, cacao, and arnotto; about a ton of loaf-sugar; a considerable parcel of clothes and other necessaries, and to the value of about £ in plate, ear-rings, and other trinkets; besides four pieces of cannon, and about useless muskets. we left abundance of goods in the town, besides liquors of all sorts, and a variety of naval stores, and several warehouses full of cacao. we left also several ships on the stocks, and two new ships still unrigged, of above tons each, which cost upwards of , crowns; and we also restored four barks, leaving two others to bring down the ransom. thus it appears that the spaniards had a good bargain; but the agreed ransom, though small, was far better for us than to burn what we could not carry away. the hostages informed us, that during our treaty , dollars belonging to the king had been sent out of the town, besides plate, jewels, and other things of the greatest value. hence it is certain, if we had landed at the first, giving them no time at all, that we had been much greater gainers, and might have made , dollars, in ready money, plate, and jewels. yet guayaquil had not been so poor for forty years as now, there having been a great fire about a year and half before we took it, in which the best part of the town was burnt down, and had occasioned great expence for its rebuilding. as it was, we thought ourselves well off, and great care was taken that all concerned in the expedition should be satisfied, by which our people were much gratified, and afterwards shewed great alacrity in executing our other enterprizes. this is of the utmost consequence with privateers; for, if the men have the smallest jealousy of being ill treated in this respect, disputes arise which do infinitely more mischief than the value of what can be got by such sinister practices. among all the men who landed in this enterprize, the only man who drank a cup too much was one john gabriel, a dutchman, who served in the company commanded by captain rogers. when we were evacuating the town, he was missing, and was supposed to be either taken or slain. but he had found some excellent brandy in the house where he was quartered, of which he drank so liberally that he fell fast asleep on the floor, and was in that condition when we evacuated the town. the master of the house returned soon after, and found the dutchman stretched out at full length, and so dead asleep that he could hardly distinguish whether he were living. calling in some of his neighbours, and securing the dutchman's weapons, they set him on his feet, and with some difficulty brought him to his senses, when he was not a little alarmed at finding himself in such company. at length the spaniard restored his arms, and desired him to make all the haste he could after his comrades, who were not yet embarked. on the d may, which was the day appointed for payment of the ransom, no boat appeared, and we began to be uneasy for our money; but at length the boat arrived, and brought us , dollars. we received the money, and sent back a message that we proposed to sail from puna next morning, and should carry away the hostages, if the rest of the money were not then sent. we staid however till the th, when captain courtney was anxious to depart, lest we should be attacked by the french and spanish ships from lima. i endeavoured in vain to convince him that we were in no danger, as they could not by this time have received notice at lima, and have fitted out a force sufficient to attack us. we sailed however, and came to anchor in the afternoon a few leagues from point arena. next morning, when we were preparing to sail, mr morel, a gentleman from puna related to our prisoners, and another gentleman from guayaquil, brought us dollars, in farther payment of our ransom. this put us into such good humour, that we discharged all our prisoners except the morels, the three hostages, and three or four more. the gentleman from guayaquil had a gold chain and some other things of value, for which we sold him our bark, the _beginning_, having no farther use for her. we also gave captain arizabella three negro women, and another to mr morel, and returned their wearing apparel to most of our prisoners who were now liberated, so that we parted good friends. _guayaquil_ is divided into two parts, called the old and new towns, which together contain about houses, and are joined by a long wooden bridge for foot passengers, near half a mile long. it is situated in low boggy ground, so dirty in winter that it is difficult to go from house to house. there is but one regular street along the river side, leading to the bridge, and from it along the old town. besides this, there is a handsome parade or square in front of the church of st jago, but that church is in ruins. besides this, there are three other churches, st augustin, st francis, and st dominic; before which last is another parade, and a half-moon battery fitted for mounting six guns, but there were none while we were there. there is also a chapel, and there had been a church dedicated to st ignatius, belonging to the jesuits, but it was burnt down in the great fire. these were all decently adorned with altars, carved work, and pictures, and that dedicated to st augustin had an organ, but all their plate had been carried away by the priests and students, who fled into the woods. some of the houses were of brick, particularly about the parades, and the rest of timber or split bamboos, and some of them were decently furnished. some of the inhabitants had calashes, but i know not what use they could be of, all the neighbourhood being so boggy that there was not road for them. the boggy ground about guayaquil was full of the largest toads i ever saw, some being as big as an english two-penny loaf. the town was said to contain inhabitants of all sorts, including indians, negroes, and mulattoes. an englishman who joined us here, told us that, in the preceding december, on occasion of a public rejoicing for the birth of the prince of the asturias, which lasted for three weeks, they had mustered foot and horse, all armed, which came from the surrounding country, besides a much greater number unarmed, the greater part of whom must have been indians. guayaquil is well situated for trade and ship-building, being fourteen leagues from point arena and seven from puna, up a large river, into which fall several smaller ones, and on which there are many villages and farms. the water of this river is fresh for four leagues below the city, and all along its banks grow great quantities of mangroves and _sarsaparillas_, and on account of this last the water is thought salutary against the lues. but during floods, when it brings down many poisonous plants from the mountains, among which is the _manchinilla_ apple, it is not reckoned wholesome. all birds that eat of this apple are sure to die, and we saw hundreds of them dead, floating on the water. the seasons here are very improperly denominated summer and winter. the winter is reckoned from the beginning of december to the end of may, in all which season it is sultry, hot, wet, and unhealthy. from the end of may to the beginning of december, which they call summer, the weather is serene, dry, and healthy, and not so violently hot as in what they denominate winter. the cacao is ripe and mostly gathered between june and august. of the other fruits of this country, some are ripe and others green during the whole course of the year. guayaquil is the chief city of a province of that name in the kingdom of peru, governed by a president with five or six orders of judges, forming a royal _audiencia_, or chief court of judicature, and accountable only to the viceroy in military affairs,[ ] and every province has a government of the same nature. the governors are appointed, or more properly purchase their offices, at the court of old spain, and are for life or good behaviour. if any one die or misbehave, the viceroy may name another during his time, which ought only to be for five years; but he sometimes gets those of his own placing confirmed by an order from spain, by which means he derives a considerable portion of his unknown profits. the late viceroy of peru continued in office fourteen years, several intended successors having died on the way. scarcely does the king of spain live in greater splendour than the viceroy does at lima, where the chief courts of judicature are held, to which appeals are brought from all the courts and provinces of this extensive kingdom. i was told on good authority that the last viceroy, who died about four years ago, left at least eight millions of dollars to his widow and family, besides vast sums given in charity during his life, and building many churches, friaries, and nunneries. he left a better character than any viceroy had done for an age past. [footnote : this province is now in the kingdom or viceroyalty of new granada, and audiencia of quito.--e.] the province of guayaquil abounds in excellent timber of several kinds, so that it is the chief place in all peru for building and repairing ships, of which there are seldom less than seven or eight on the stocks here at one time. its chief commodity is cacao, with which it supplies most parts on the south sea, and we were told it never exported less than , _carguas_ yearly, and sometimes double that quantity, a _cargua_ being eighty-one pounds weight, which only costs here two dollars and a half. they have also a considerable trade in salt and salt-fish, from cape st helena, which is mostly sent to quito and other places of the inland country. it exports also a vast quantity of timber to truxilo, chana, lima, and other places, where it is scarce. they export also from hence rice and cotton, with some dried or jerked beef. this province has no mines of gold or silver, but abounds in all sorts of cattle, which are very cheap, especially on the island of puna, where we amply supplied ourselves. their only grain is maiz, so that all their wheat flour is brought from truxilo, cherisse, and other places to windward, or to the south, as the wind blows here always from the south. they procure several kinds of woollen cloth, among which, are very strong and good bags, from quito. their wines, brandy, olives, oil, and sugar, come from piscola, nasca, and other places to windward. all kinds of european goods are brought from panama, being brought there overland from portobello on the gulf of mexico; and the trade of this port is so considerable as to employ forty sail every year, besides coasters. a market is also held daily on bark logs, or boats, every day, on the river before the town, containing every thing afforded by the interior country in great plenty. the other towns in the province are governed by lieutenants, or deputies, appointed by the corregidore. above half of these towns border on the same river or its branches, so that their inhabitants can all come to the capital in two tides, though some are many leagues distant. _porto vaco_ was formerly the capital. in the whole province, the spaniards reckon , inhabitants, but i believe there are many more, including all the mixed races between spaniards, indians, and negroes, which they divide and subdivide into eleven denominations. few of the prisoners who fell into our hands were healthy or sound, and nearly half of the native spaniards applied to our doctors for remedies against the french disease, which is so common here that it is reckoned no scandal. on the th may, with a strong gale at s.s.w. we bore away for the gallepagos islands, being in a very sad condition; for we had upwards of twenty men ill in the duke, and near fifty in the duchess, seized with a malignant fever, contracted, as i suppose, at guayaquil, where a contagious disease had reigned a month or five weeks before we took it; which swept away ten or twelve persons every day, so that all the churches were filled, being their usual burying places, and they had to dig a great deep hole close by the great church, where i kept guard, and this hole was almost filled with putrefying bodies: and our lying so long in that church, surrounded by such noisome scents, was enough to infect us all. in twenty-four hours more we had fifty men down and the duchess upwards of seventy, and in the next twenty-four hours, ten more fell sick in each ship. we discovered land on the th, and on the th, at day-break, we were within four leagues of two large islands almost joining each other, having passed that we first saw during the night. we sent repeatedly ashore here in search of water, but could find none, though the people went three or four miles up into the country, and they reported that the island was nothing but loose rocks like cinders, very rotten and heavy, and the earth so parched that it broke into holes under their feet. this made me suppose there had been a volcano here; and though there is much shrubby ground, with some green herbs, there was not the smallest signs of water, neither was it possible for any to be contained on such a surface. in short, we found these islands completely to disappoint our expectations, and by no means to agree with the descriptions of former voyagers. we had also the misfortune to lose company of one of our barks, in which was mr hately, with five of our men, two spanish prisoners, and three negroes.[ ] [footnote : mr hately, being unable to rejoin his companions, was forced to land at cape passado in lat. ° ' s. on the coast of guayaquil, where he and his people were barbarously used by a mixed race between the indians and negroes; but were rescued by a priest, and sent to lima, where he was kindly treated.--e.] in a consultation on the th may, we resolved to proceed for the island of plata in quest of water, and then to come immediately off the coast again, having information of two french ships, one of sixty and the other of forty-six guns, together with a spanish man of war, that would soon be sent in search of us. it was also our intention to refit our ships there, and not to go near the main, our ships being out of order, and our men very weak and sickly, several of them having already died. we accordingly sailed on the th, and in another conversation on the th, it was agreed to go first to _gorgono_, to see if there were any english ships there; and afterwards to sail for _maugla_, malaga, or _madulinar_,[ ] where there are some indians at enmity with the spaniards, who, as the pilots informed us, come seldom there, and were not likely to procure any intelligence of us from thence. they told us also, if we could induce the indians to trade with us, we might have hogs, fowls, plantains, bananas, and other refreshments. [footnote : the island of gorgona is on the coast of new granada, in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w.] while on our course towards gorgona, the duchess took the _san thoma de villa nova_ of ninety tons, having about forty people on board, including eleven negro slaves, and but little european goods, except some cloth and iron. next day we made the island of _gorgona_,[ ] and on the th of june our boats brought in another prize, a small bark of fifteen tons belonging to a creek on the main. she was bound to guayaquil, having ten spaniards and indians on board, and some negroes, but had very little cargo, except a small quantity of gold dust and a large gold chain, together of about _l_. value, which were secured aboard the duchess. in a consultation, held on the th june, proceeding upon information procured from our prisoners, it was resolved to proceed to malaga, at which there was an anchorage, where we proposed to leave our ships, and to row up the river for the rich gold mines of barbacore, [_barbaceas_][ ] called also the mines of st pean, from a village of that name about two tides up the river. at that place we proposed to seize canoes, as fitter than our boats for going up against the stream, in which, at this season of the year, according to the information of an old spanish pilot, there are such strong freshes, that he did not expect we should reach the mines in less than twelve days. but having discoursed with several of the prisoners, we found the island of malaga an unsafe place for our ships, and besides, they represented the river as so narrow, that the indians would be able to assail us with poisoned arrows, and the spaniards might easily cut off our retreat, by felling trees across from bank to bank. on this information, we held another consultation, in which it was agreed to desist from this enterprize, and we came accordingly back to gorgona, in so very weak a condition that we could hardly have defended ourselves, if attacked. [footnote : it is somewhat difficult to ascertain what island is here meant. there are some islands at the mouth of the _rio de mira_, in lat. ° ' n. on one of which is _punta de mangles_, or cape mangles, resembling one of the names in the text; but from the context, the island for which they were next bound appears to have been that now called _del gallo_, in lat. ° ' n. not above ten miles south from the river they proposed to enter.--e.] [footnote : barbacoas is one of the provinces of new granada, having a town of the same name in the _rio telemli_, which joins the _rio patia.--e.] we arrived at gorgona on the th june, where we anchored in forty fathoms, and resolved to careen our two ships in succession, beginning with the duchess. our sick men were removed into the galleon, and the sick officers to the french-built ship. we landed tents for the cooper's and armourer's crews, and cleared a place for tents to accommodate the sick on shore. all this was performed with so much diligence, that by the th both ships were careened, caulked, rigged, and restored fit for sea. on the th, we set up tents ashore for the sick, who were already much recovered, though the spaniards had represented this island as unhealthy; yet by walking about on shore they soon gathered strength enough to return to their duty. we here fitted out the french-built ship, with twenty guns, putting captain cooke into her, with a crew taken from the other two ships, resolving to carry her home with us, and to employ her as a third cruizer while in these seas; and this great work employed us from the th june to the th july, calling her the _marquis_. she had thirty-five men from the duke and twenty-six from the duchess, making a crew of sixty-one british, to which were added twenty negroes. our next care was to get rid of our prisoners, who were a great burden to us, and we resolved therefore to set them on shore, after trying every possible method to engage them in a scheme for trading with us. for this purpose i proposed going to panama, to remain six days near that place, till they should bring the money we could agree for, as the price of our prize goods; and to this the two morels and don antonio agreed, provided we would take , dollars for the whole. i then proposed to give them up the galleon and all the goods and negroes, if they would give us , dollars for the whole. they told us that trading in these seas with strangers, especially the english and dutch, was so rigidly prohibited, that they would have to give more than the original cost in bribes, to procure licence to deal with us, and could not therefore assure us of payment, unless we agreed to take a low price. finding it therefore not worth while to waste time, and knowing we should run much risk in treating with them, we at length resolved to set them all ashore, hoping the morels and don antonio would get money for us, to prevent us from burning the ships we could not conveniently carry away. at parting, i made them sensible that we had treated them like generous enemies, and said we would sell them good bargains for what money they might be able to bring us in ten days, after which we should burn or carry away all that was not then disposed of. we accordingly landed seventy-two prisoners on the th july. on the th the morels came off with what money they had been able to procure, and bought some of our goods, behaving with much honour, and putting great confidence in us. on the th, a negro belonging to the duchess was bitten by a small brown speckled snake, and died in twelve hours. there are many snakes in this island of gorgona, and i saw one above three yards long, and as thick as my leg. the same morning the mr morels went off a second time in our bark for money; and this day one of the same kind of snakes that killed our negro was found on the forecastle of the duke, having crawled up the cable, as we supposed, as they were often seen in the water. on the d of august we were like to have had a mutiny, for the steward informed me that he understood many of the men had entered into a secret agreement, and he had heard some ringleaders boasting that sixty men had already signed the paper, but knew not the nature of their design. i immediately convened the officers in the cabin, where we armed ourselves, and soon secured four of the principal mutineers, putting the fellow who wrote the paper in irons. by this time all the people were on deck, and we had got their paper from those we had in custody; the purport of it being to refuse accepting the intended distribution of plunder, and not to move from this place, till they had what they termed justice done them. not knowing how far this mutiny might have been concerted with the people of the other ships, we agreed to discharge those in confinement, on asking pardon, and faithfully promising never to be guilty of the like again. we sailed from gorgona on the th august, and as our ships were now rather thinly manned, i engaged thirty-two of our negro prisoners to join our company, placing michael kendall, a free jamaica negro, who had deserted to us from the spaniards, as their leader, and charging him to exercise them in the use of arms. at the same time i supplied them with clothes, desiring them to consider themselves now as englishmen, and no longer slaves to the spaniards. after this we stood over to the bay of _jecames_, [atacames,] where the indians are free; and with much ado entered into trade with them, by the help of a priest. we sent them three large wooden saints to adorn their church, which they took as a great present; and i sent a feathered cap to the wife of the chief which was well accepted. we here sold some of our prize goods to good account, so that we had provisions very cheap. we sailed from hence on the st september, intending for the gallapagos, and on the th we made one of these islands. next day we came to anchor in about thirty fathoms; and in the evening our boats brought us off a lading of excellent turtle, having sent our yawl and several men ashore previously to turn over these creatures in the night; but to no purpose, as we afterwards found they only came ashore in the day. the island off which we lay was high, rocky, and barren, with some low land next the sea, but now water was to be found, like those we had seen formerly. on the th the duchess, which lay at anchor a good distance from us, had got about land and sea-tortoises, but not generally so large as ours; while we had turtles, but no land-tortoises as yet. the marquis had the worst luck. on the th, i sent our pinnace to the place where the duchess got land-tortoises, which returned at night with thirty-seven, and some salt they had found in a pond; and our yawl brought us twenty sea-turtles, so that we were now well provided. some of the largest land-tortoises weighed pounds; and the largest sea-turtles were upwards of pounds weight. the land-tortoises laid eggs on our deck; and our men brought many of them from the land, pure white, and as large as a goose's egg, with a strong thick shell, exactly round. these are the ugliest creatures that can well be imagined, the back-shell being not unlike the top of an old hackney-coach, as black as jet, and covered with a rough shrivelled skin. the neck and legs are long, and as big as a man's wrist, and they have club-feet as large as a fist, shaped much like those of an elephant, having five knobs, or thick nails, on each fore-foot, and only four on the hind-feet. the head is small, with a visage like that of a snake; and when first surprised they shrink up their head, neck, and legs under their shell. some of our men affirmed that they saw some of these about four feet high, and of vast size; and that two men mounted on the back of one of these, whom it easily carried at its usual slow pace, not appearing to regard their weight. they supposed this one could not weigh less than pounds. the spaniards say that there are no others in these seas, except at the gallapagos, but they are common in brazil. the th, being under sail with a fine breeze, we agreed to lay to till midnight. the th, seeing many islands and rocks to the westwards, we agreed to bear away, not caring to encumber ourselves among them during the night; but by six in the evening, from the mast-head, we could see so many low rocks, almost joining from island to island, that we seemed land-locked for more than three parts of the compass, and no way open except the s.w. whence we came. we resolved therefore to return that way, making short trips all night, and continually sounding, for fear of shoals, having from forty to sixty fathoms. the th and th we saw several more islands, one of them very large, which we supposed to be near the equator. at noon of the th we had an observation, making our latitude ° ' n. we saw in all at least fifty islands, some of which we searched, and others we viewed from a distance, but none had the least appearance of fresh water.[ ] signior morel told me that a spanish man-of-war had been to an island in lat. ° ' or ' s. spanish leagues west from the island of _plata_, and to which they gave the name of _santa maria del aguada_, a pleasant island with a good road, full of wood, and having plenty of water, with turtle and sea-tortoises in abundance. this i believe to have been the same island in which davis the buccaneer recruited; and all the light he has left by which to find it again, is, that it is to the west of the islands he was at with the other buccaneers, which must be those we were twice at. we had no occasion to look out for this island on the present trip, though i believe it might easily have been found without farther directions. in these islands there are many kinds of sea-fowl, and some land-birds, particularly hawks and turtle-doves, both so very tame that we often knocked them down with sticks. i saw no kind of beasts, but there are guanas in abundance, and land-tortoises almost on every island, besides vast numbers of turtles or sea-tortoises. it is very strange how the land-tortoises have got here, as there are none on the main, and they could not have come of themselves. some of these islands are the haunts of seals, but not in such numbers as at juan fernandez, neither is their fur so good. a very large one made at me three several times, and if i had not happened to have a pike-staff headed with iron, he might have killed me. i was on the level sand when he came open-mouthed at me from the water, as fierce and quick as an angry dog let loose. all the three times he made at me, i struck the pike into his breast, which at last forced him to retire into the water, snarling with an ugly noise, and shewing his long teeth. this animal was as big as a large bear. [footnote : in cowley's voyage, formerly given, one of these islands, which he calls the duke of york's island, is said to have abundance of wood and water, but none to be had in any of the rest. perhaps the duke of york's island of cowley, and santa maria del aguada of morel, may be the same.--e.] on the st october we made the main-land of mexico, which captain dampier immediately recognized as near the place where he had attacked the lesser manilla ship in the st george. our men began again to fall sick, and two of them dropped down on the deck in a kind of scorbutic appoplexy, but recovered on being let blood. the d we made _cape corientes_, on the coast of mexico, in lat. ° ' n. which we knew by our charts. captain dampier had been here, but it was a long time ago, and he did not seem to remember much of the matter; yet when he came to land at different places, he very readily recollected them. our purpose now was to look for the islands called _tres marias_, to procure some refreshments, but found this somewhat difficult, being very uncertain as to their true situation. in the afternoon of the th, cape corientes bore e.n.e. about ten leagues, and next morning, being fine clear weather, we discovered two islands at the distance of about fourteen leagues, one bearing n. by w. and the other n. by e. at noon we had an observation, and found our latitude ° ' n. the sight of these islands was very satisfactory, for though our men had their fill of land and sea-turtle, which kept them from the scurvy, they were but weak, as that is but a faint food, except they had enough of bread or flour to eat with it; whereas they only had a pound and a quarter of bread or flour to five men per day, on purpose to husband our stock till we came to live entirely on salt-meat, when we should be under the necessity to allow more. on the th i sent a pinnace to the eastern island, to look if there were any good road, or convenience for wooding and watering; but the officer reported that the island had foul ground for near half a mile from the shore, with bad anchorage and worse landing; and though there was abundance of wood, no water was to be had. this was bad news for us, as our water began to grow scarce. we now bore up for the middle island, which captain dampier believed he had been at when he sailed with captain swan, and on which occasion they found water. on the th our boat returned from the middle island, they and the boat of the duchess having landed at several places on the s.e. side of the island, where was plenty of good water. they saw no signs of any people having been there lately, but found a human skull on the ground. this was supposed to have belonged to one of two indian chiefs, who were left there by captain swan, about twenty-three years before, as dampier told us: for victuals being scarce with these buccaneers, they would not carry the poor indians any farther, after they had served their turns, but left them to starve on this desolate island. the marquis and bark having separated from us, we kept a light up all night, and made a fire on the island, that they might see where to find us at anchor; but not seeing them next morning at day-break, i proposed to have gone in search of them; but captain courtney and the rest made light of the matter, believing they might soon come in without assistance, which they afterwards did. the supply of cattle, hogs, and plantains we procured at atacames lasted us to the gallapagos, and we had fed on turtle ever since till the last two days, which was a great refreshment to our men, and husbanded our stock of european provisions. on the th, i sent an officer to view the other side of the island, who told me, on his return, it was much better than where we were, having several sandy bays, on which he had seen the tracks of turtle. on this intelligence i sent the boat back in the evening; and it came back next morning with a full load of turtle, leaving another load ready turned; and, what was of much more consequence, they found good water; whereas that we had gotten hitherto purged the men excessively. as we wooded, watered, and furnished ourselves with fresh provisions here, and as these islands are little known, some account of them may be acceptable. the _tres marias_, or three marias, off the western coast of guadalaxara, in the kingdom of mexico, are in a range stretching from s.e. to n.w. of about forty-five english miles in length. the largest island is the n.w. which appeared a high double land, and above five leagues in length: the middle island about three leagues; and the south-eastermost hardly two leagues. there also are high lands, full of trees; and near the least island there are two or three small broken white islets, one of which was so like a ship under sail, that we gave the signal for a chase. the s.e. end of the island is in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. and the n.w. point of the n. island is in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. the distance from each being about two marine leagues. these islands have abundance of parrots of different sorts, with pigeons and other land-birds, of which we killed great numbers. there were also many excellent hares, but much smaller than ours. we saw likewise abundance of guanas, and some racoons, which barked and snarled at us like dogs, but were easily beaten off with sticks. the water is more worthy of remark than any other thing we saw here, as we only found two good springs, which ran in large streams; the others being bitter and disagreeable, proceeding, as i suppose, from being impregnated by shrubs or roots growing in the water, or from some mineral. the turtle we found here are of a different sort from any i had ever seen, though very good. though it is ordinarily believed that there are only three sorts of sea-turtles, yet we have seen six or seven sorts at different times, and our people have eaten of them all, except the very large _whooping_ or _loggerhead_ kind, which are found in great plenty in brazil, some of them above pounds weight. we did not eat of these, because at that time our provisions were plentiful. at the gallapagos, both males and females were observed to come on shore only in the day time, quite different from what i had heard of them at other places; whereas all we caught here were by turning them over in the night, when the females come on shore to lay their eggs and bury them in the dry sand. one of these whom we caught had eggs in her belly, of which were skinned over and ready for being extruded at once. some authors alledge that these eggs are six weeks in hatching, which i can hardly credit, as the sun makes the sand in which they are deposited excessively hot, and they are only covered by a very thin film or skin, instead of a shell. in order to ascertain this point, i made some of our men ashore watch one carefully, and mark the place and time of laying her eggs. in less than twelve hours they found the eggs addled, and in about twelve hours more they had young ones completely formed and alive. had we remained some time longer, i might have thoroughly satisfied myself and others, respecting the quick production of tortoises; for i am apt to credit the report of several of our men, who asserted that having found eggs in the sand, and looked for them three days afterwards in the same place, they then found nothing but films; which shews that the young ones are hatched in that time. they assured me also that they had seen the young brood run out of the sand every day, making directly in great numbers for the sea. there were few fish about the shores of this island, these being of the ordinary sorts usually met with in these seas; but the abundance of turtle at this time amply made up for this defect. the chief officers fed here deliciously, being scarcely ever without hares, turtle-doves, pigeons, and parrots of various colours and sizes, many of which had white or red heads, with tufts of feathers on their crowns. we found good anchorage at this middle island, and gradual soundings from twenty-four to four fathoms close by the shore; and between this and the least or southern island the depth was about the same as where we were, having no shoal between but what was visible, as a rock lay off the s.w. point and a shoal off the n.e. point of the same, with another at a great distance from that point of the least island, but neither were above half a mile from the shore. sailing from these islands, we saw land on the st november, which proved to be the point of california, or that headland called cape st ducas. it was now necessary to put in execution the rules we had formerly laid down for cruizing, as also to settle our regulations about plunder. accordingly, my station was to be the outermost in the duke, the duchess in the middle, and the marquis nearest the shore; the nearest ship to be at the least six leagues, and nine at the most from shore, and the bark to ply between ship and ship, carrying advice. by this means we could spread out fifteen leagues, and might see any thing that passed in the day within twenty leagues of the shore; and to prevent any ships passing in the night, we were to ply to windward all day, and to drive to leeward all night. on the th november, the duchess went nearest shore, and the marquis took the middle station. we were much encouraged by considering that in this very place, and about the same time of the year, sir thomas candish took the manilla ship. on the th we sent our bark to look for fresh water on the main, and next morning she returned to us, reporting that they had seen wild indians, who paddled to them on bark-logs. these indians were fearful of coming near our people at first, but were soon prevailed upon to accept a knife or two and some baize, for which they gave in return two bladders of water, two live foxes, and a deer skin. till now, we thought that the spaniards had missionaries among these people, but finding them quite naked, with no appearance of any european commodities, nor a single word of the spanish language, we concluded that they were quite savage, and we dispatched the bark and a boat a second time, in hopes of procuring some refreshments, with some trifles to distribute among the natives. on the th our men returned, having become very familiar with the californians, who were the poorest wretches that could be imagined, and had no manner of refreshments whatever to afford us. they brought off some indian knives made of sharks teeth, and a few other curiosities, which i preserved to shew what shifts may be made. it was now the th of december, near a month after the time when the manilla ships generally fall in with this coast, and we were much embarrassed by the impossibility of procuring any intelligence respecting them. on examining our provisions, we found only bread on board for seventy days, even at our present short allowance, and it would require not less than fifty days for our run across the pacific to guam, one of the ladrones; wherefore we resolved to continue our cruize here no longer than other eight days. being in want of water also, it was agreed upon that the marquis should go first into a harbour for that necessary article, while the duke and duchess continued on the look-out, and then these other ships to do the same in succession. on the st december, while bearing up for the port in which was the marquis, the man at the mast-head, about nine in the morning, gave notice that he saw a sail besides the duchess and bark, seeming about seven leagues from us. we immediately hoisted our ensign, and bore for the strange sail, as did the duchess; and as it fell calm, i sent the pinnace to endeavour to make out what she was. all the rest of the day we had very little wind, so that we made hardly any way, and as our boat did not return we remained in much anxiety, not knowing whether the ship in sight were our consort the marquis, or the manilla ship. in this uncertainty, i sent mr fry in our yawl to the duchess, to endeavour to learn what this ship was, and as soon as the yawl was gone i hoisted french colours and fired a gun, which the stranger answered, and in some measure cleared our doubts. mr fry soon returned, bringing the joyful news that the ship in sight really was the manilla galleon for which we had waited so long, and of which we were now almost in despair of meeting. this revived our courage, and every one actively prepared for the engagement; all our melancholy reflections on the shortness of our provisions for the run to guam being now dispelled, and nothing now occupied our thoughts but of our being masters of the mighty treasure supposed to be on board this ship, while every moment seemed an hour till we could get up with her. we gave orders for the two pinnaces to keep with her all night, shewing false fires from time to time, that we might know whereabout they and the chase were; and it was agreed, if the duke and duchess could get up with her together, that we should board her at once. before night we had made a clear ship, and had every thing in readiness for action at day-light; and all night long we kept a sharp look-out for the boats false fires, which we frequently saw and answered. at day-break of the d december, , we saw the chase about a league from us on our weather bow, the duchess being a-head of her to leeward about half a league. about six a.m. our boat came aboard, having kept very near the chase all night without receiving any damage, and told us that the duchess passed the chase in the night, at which time the chase fired two shots at her, which were not returned. having no wind, we got out eight sweeps, with which we rowed for near an hour, when there sprung up a small breeze. i ordered a large kettle of chocolate to be prepared for the ship's company, having no spirituous liquor to give them, and then went to prayers; but were disturbed before these were finished, by the enemy firing at us. to deter as from attempting to board, they had barrels hung at their yard arms, which resembled barrels of powder. about eight a.m. we began to engage by ourselves, for the duchess being still at leeward, had not been able to get up, as there was very little wind. at first the enemy fired at us with their stern-chase guns, which we returned with those on our bows, till at length we got close on board each other, when we gave her several broadsides, plying our small arms very briskly; which last the enemy returned as thick for a time, but did not fire their great guns half so fast as we. after some time, we shot a little a-head, laying the enemy athwart hawse close aboard, and plied her so warmly that she soon lowered her colours two-thirds down. by this time the duchess had got up, and fired about five guns with a volley of small arms; but as the enemy had submitted she made no return. we now sent our pinnace on board the prize, and brought away the captain and other officers; from whom we learnt that a larger ship had come from manilla along with them, having forty-six brass guns and as many swivels, but they had parted company with her about three months before, and supposed she had got to acapulco by this time, as she sailed better than this ship. our prize had the following high-sounding name _nostra senoria de la incarnacion disenganio_, commanded by the chevalier jean pichberty, a frenchman. she had twenty guns and twenty pattereroes, with men, of whom nine were killed, ten wounded, and several sore scorched with gun-powder. we engaged her three glasses, in which time only i and another were wounded. i was shot through the left cheek, the bullet carrying away great part of my upper jaw and several of my teeth, part of which dropt on the deck, where i fell. the other was william powell, an irish landman, who was slightly wounded in the buttock. after my wound, i was forced to write my orders, both to prevent the loss of blood, and because speaking gave me great pain. we received little damage in our rigging during the engagement, except that a shot disabled our mizen-mast. on the d, after we had put our ship to rights, we stood in for the harbour where the marquis was, distant about four leagues to the n.e. sending our surgeons on board the prize to dress her wounded men. we same to anchor in the harbour about four p.m. where we received the compliments of all on board the marquis on our sudden and almost unlooked-for success, which gave us all much satisfaction. we found that ship in good condition and ready to sail, and all on board her in high spirits, eager for action. at eight the same evening we held a consultation on two important points: _first_, what we should do with our hostages; and, _secondly_, how we should act in regard to the other manilla ship, which we still thought there was a strong probability of our taking, if we could remain here a little longer. as the hostages from guayaquil, and the chevalier pichberty, brother to the famous monsieur du cass, appeared to be men of strict honour, we thought it was best to make the best terms we possibly could with them, and then set them at liberty. we had more difficulty in settling the other point in discussion, as to the mode of attacking the other manilla ship. i was desirous of going out along with the marquis on that service; but as some reflections had been cast on the duchess for not engaging our late prize so soon as it was thought she might have done, captain courtney was absolutely bent on going out with his own ship and the marquis, and having a majority in the committee, my proposal was overruled, and we in the duke were reluctantly constrained to remain in harbour. it was agreed, however, that we should put ten of our best hands on board the duchess, the better to enable her to engage the great manilla ship, if she were fallen in with; and she and the marquis sailed on christmas-day. as soon as they were gone, we put part of the goods from our bark into the prize, in order to send away our prisoners in the bark; and as there were still due dollars of the guayaquil ransom, we agreed to sell them the bark and her remaining cargo for dollars, taking the chevalier de pichberty's bill for dollars, payable in london, which he readily gave us, together with an acknowledgment under his hand that we had given him a good bargain. this matter being settled, we had only to look to our own safety while our consorts were out on their cruize for the manilla ship. we posted two centinels on a hill, whence they had a clear view of the sea, with instructions to give us notice by a signal whenever they saw three ships in the offing, that we might have time to secure our prisoners, and to get out to the assistance of our consorts, as we expected they might have hot work, this other manilla ship being much stronger and better manned than the one we had taken, and better provided in all respects. on the afternoon of the th, our sentries made the appointed signal of seeing three ships; on which we immediately put all our prisoners into the bark, from which we removed her sails, and took away all our men, except two lieutenants and twenty-two men, whom we left to look after our prize and the prisoners. as the prisoners, though in number, were secured in the bark, without sails, arms, rudder, or boat, and moored near a mile distant from our prize, there were more than sufficient for guarding them and giving them provisions and drink during our absence. this being arranged, we immediately weighed and stood to sea, in order to assist our consorts in attacking the great ship. captain dover thought proper to go on board the prize, instead of one of our lieutenants, whom he sent to me. i was still in a very weak condition, my head and throat being very much swelled, so that i spoke with great pain, and not loud enough to be heard at any distance; insomuch that all the chief officers and our surgeons wished me to remain in the prize, but i would not consent. we got under sail about seven p.m. and saw lights several times in the night, which we supposed to be false fires in the boats of our consorts. in the morning of the th at day-break, we saw three sail to windward, but so far distant that it was nine o'clock before we could make out which were our consorts and which the chase. at this time we could see the duchess and the chase near together, and the marquis standing to them with all the sail she could carry. we also made all the sail we could, but being three or four leagues to leeward, and having a very scant wind, we made little way. at noon they bore s.e. from us, being still three leagues right to windward. in the afternoon we observed the marquis get up with the chase, and engage her pretty briskly; but soon fell to leeward out of cannon shot, where she lay a considerable time, which made us conclude that she was somehow disabled. i sent away my pinnace well manned, with orders to dog the chase all night, making signals with false fires that she might not escape us; but before our boat could get up to them, the marquis made sail again towards the chase, and went to it again briskly for more than four glasses. at this time we saw the duchess steer ahead to windward, clear of the enemy, as i supposed to stop her leaks or repair her rigging. meanwhile the marquis kept the enemy in play, till the duchess again bore down, when each fired a broadside or two, and left off because it grew dark. they then bore south of us in the duke, which was right to windward, distant about two leagues; and about midnight our boat came to us, having made false fires, which we answered. our people had been on board both the duchess and marquis, the former of which had her foremast much disabled, the ring of an anchor shot away, one man killed and several wounded, having also received several shots in her upper works and one in her powder-room, but all stopt. the duchess had engaged the enemy by herself the night before, which was what we took to be false fires, being too distant to hear the guns. at that time they could perceive the enemy to be in great disorder, her guns not being all mounted, and neither her nettings nor close quarters in order; so that, if it had been my good fortune in the duke to have gone with the duchess, we all believed we might then have carried this great ship by boarding; or, if the duchess had taken most of the men out of the marquis, which did not sail well enough to come up to her assistance in time, she alone might have taken her by boarding at once, before the spaniards had experienced our strength, and become afterwards so well provided as encouraged them to be driving, giving us every opportunity to board them if we pleased. captain cooke sent me word that he had nearly fired away all his powder and shot, but had escaped well in masts, rigging, and men; wherefore i sent him three barrels of powder and a proportion of shot; and i also sent lieutenant fry to consult with our consorts how we might best engage the enemy next morning. all this day and the ensuing night the chase made signals to us in the duke, thinking us her consort, which we had already taken; and after dark she edged down towards us, otherwise i should not have been up with her next day, having very little wind and that against us. in the morning of the th, as soon as it was day, the wind veered at once, on which we put our ship about, and the chase fired first upon the duchess, which was nearest her in consequence of the change of wind. the duchess returned the fire briskly; and we in the duke stood as near as we possibly could, firing our guns as we could bring them to bear upon the enemy. at this time the duchess was athwart her hawse, firing very fast, and such of her shot as missed the enemy flew over us and between our masts, so that we ran the risk of receiving more harm from the duchess than the enemy, if we had lain on her quarter and across her stern, which was my intention. we therefore took our station close along side, board and board, where we kept plying her with round shot only, using neither barshot nor grape, as her sides were too thick for these, and no men appeared in sight. she lay driving, as we did also close aboard of her, the enemy keeping to their close quarters, so that we never fired our small arms unless when we saw a man appear, or a port open, and then we fired as quick as possible. we continued thus for four glasses, about which time we received a shot in our main-mast which much disabled it. soon after this, the duchess and we, still both firing, came back close under the enemy, and had like to have fallen on board of her, so that we could make little use of our guns. we then fell astern in our birth alongside, and at this time the enemy threw a fire-ball into the duke from one of her tops, which blew up a chest of loaded arms and cartouch-boxes on our quarter-deck, and several cartridges in our steerage, by which mr vanburgh, the agent of our owners, and a dutchman, were very much burnt; and it might have done us much more damage if it had not been soon extinguished. after getting clear, the duchess stood in for the shore, where she lay braced to, mending her rigging. the marquis fired several shots, but to little purpose, as her guns were small. we continued close aboard for some time after the duchess drew off; till at last we received a second shot in our main-mast, not far from the other, which rent it miserably; insomuch that the mast settled towards the wound, and threatened to come by the board. our rigging also being much shattered, we sheered off and brought to, making a signal to our consorts for a consultation; and in the interim got ordinary fishes up to support our main-mast as well as we could. captains courtney and cooke, with other officers, came aboard the duke, in obedience to the signal, when we took the condition of our three ships into consideration. their masts and rigging were much damaged, and we had no means of procuring any repairs. if we again engaged the enemy, we could not propose to do any more than we had done already, which evidently had not done her much harm, as we could perceive that few of our shots penetrated her sides to any purpose, and our small arms availed still less, as not one of their men were to be seen above board. our main-mast was so badly wounded that the least additional injury would bring it down, and the fore-mast of the duchess was in as bad a state. the fall of these masts might bring down others, and we should then lie perfect butts for the enemy to batter at, and his heavy guns might easily sink us. if we should attempt to carry her by boarding, we must necessarily run the risk of losing many of our men, with little prospect of success, as they had above treble our number to oppose us, not having now in all our three ships above men fit for boarding, and these weak, as we had been long short of provisions. if, therefore, we attempted to board and were beaten off, leaving any of our men behind, the enemy would learn our strength, or weakness rather, and might go to the harbour and retake our prize, in spite of every thing we could do to hinder. our ammunition also was now very short, and we had only, enough to engage for a few glasses longer. all these circumstances being duly considered, together with the difficulty of procuring masts, and the time and provisions we must spend before we could get them fitted we resolved to desist from any farther attempt upon the enemy, since our battering her signified little, and we had not sufficient strength to carry her by boarding. we determined therefore to keep her company till night, and then to lose her, after which to make the best of our way to the harbour where we had left our prize, to secure her. we had engaged this ship first and last about seven glasses, during which we in the duke had eleven men wounded, three of whom were scorched with gun-powder. i was again unfortunately wounded by a splinter in my left foot, just before the arms chest was blown up on the quarter-deck; and so severely that i had to lie on my back in great pain, being unable to stand. part of my heel-bone was struck out, and all the foot just under the ankle cut above half through, my wound bleeding very much before it could be stopped and dressed, by which i was much weakened. in the duchess above twenty men were killed and wounded, one of the slain and three of the wounded belonging to my ship, which had been lent when i was left in the harbour. the marquis had none killed or wounded, but two of her men were scorched by gun-powder. the enemy was the _vigoniae_, a brave and lofty new ship, admiral of manilla, and this her first voyage. she was calculated to carry guns, and had above mounted, with as many pattereroes, all brass, and, as we were informed, had a complement of men, of whom were europeans, besides passengers. we were told also that several of her crew had formerly been pirates, who had all their wealth on board, and were resolved to defend it to the last extremity. the gunner was said to be a very expert man, and had provided extraordinarily for defence, which enabled them to make a desperate resistance; and they had filled all her sides between the guns with bales of soft goods, to secure the men. during the whole action she kept the spanish flag flying at her mast-head. we could observe that we had shattered her sails and rigging very much, and had slain two men in her tops, besides bringing down her mizen-yard; but this was all the visible damage we had done them, though we certainly placed round shot in her hull, which were six-pounders. these large ships are built at manilla of excellent timber, which does not splinter, and their sides are much thicker and stronger than those of the ships built in europe. thus ended our attempt on the biggest manilla ship, which i have heard related in so many ways at home, that i have thought it necessary to give a very particular account of the action, as i find it set down in my journal. generally speaking, the ships from manilla are much richer than the prize we had taken; for she had waited a long time for the chinese junks to bring silks, which not arriving, she came away with her cargo made out by means of abundance of coarse goods. several of the prisoners assured me that a manilla ship was commonly worth ten millions of dollars; so that, if it had not been for the accidental non-arrival of the junks from china that season, we had gotten an extraordinarily rich prize. after my return to europe, i met a sailor in holland who had been in the large ship when we engaged her, and who communicated to me a reason why we could not have taken her at all events. her gunner kept constantly in the powder-room, and declared that he had taken the sacrament to blow up the ship if we had boarded her, which accordingly made the men exceedingly resolute in her defence. i the more readily gave credit to what this man told me, as he gave a regular and circumstantial account of the engagement, conformable to what i have given from my journal. it is hardly to be doubted that we might have set this great ship on fire, by converting one of our ships into a fireship for that purpose: but this was objected to by all our officers, because we had goods of value on board all our ships. the enemy on this occasion was the better provided for us, having heard at manilla, through our british settlements in india, that two small ships had been fitted out at bristol for an expedition into the south sea, and of which captain dampier was pilot. on this account it was that they had so many europeans on board the great ship, most of whom had all their wealth along with them, for which they would fight to the utmost; and it having been agreed to pay no freight on the gun-decks, they had filled up all the spaces between the guns with bales of goods, to secure the men. the two ships were to have joined at cape lucas, expecting to meet us off cape corientes or navidad. we returned again into our port on the coast of california on the st january, , and being resolved to make as quick dispatch as possible for our passage to the east indies, we immediately parted with our prisoners, giving them the bark with a sufficiency of water and provisions to carry them to acapulco. we then occupied ourselves to the th in refitting and laying in a stock of wood and water; and had much satisfaction in finding as much bread in our prize as might serve for our long run to guam, with the aid of the scanty remains of our old stock. after a long disputatious negotiation, it was settled that mr fry and mr stratton were to take charge of our prize, which we named the bachelor, though under captain dover, but they were not to be contradicted by him in the business, as his business was to see that nothing was done in her contrary to the interest of our owners and ships companies, he being in the nature of agent, only with the title of chief captain. at the same time, we put on board of this ship men from the duke, from the duchess, and from the marquis, making in all men, which, with manilla indians, called _las-cars_, and some other prisoners we still had remaining, made up her complement to men. section iii _sequel of the voyage, from california, by way of the east indies, to england_. we weighed anchor on the th january, , from porta leguro, on the coast of california, but were becalmed under the shore till the afternoon of the th, when a breeze sprang up which soon carried us out of sight of land. being very slenderly provided, we were forced to allow only a pound and a half of flour, and one small piece of beef, to five men in a mess, together with three pints of water a man, for twenty-four hours, to serve both as drink and for dressing their victuals. we also lowered ten of our guns into the hold, to ease our ship. on the th the bachelor made a signal that she could spare us some additional bread, having discovered a considerable store of bread and sweet-meats, though very little flesh meat. accordingly, we in the duke had a thousand weight of bread for our share, the duchess had as much, and the marquis five hundred weight; and in return we sent them two casks of flour, one of english beef; and one of pork, as they had only left forty-five days provisions of flesh. we now agreed to proceed in a w.s.w. course till we reached the latitude of ° n. and to keep in that parallel till we should make the island of guam, being informed by our spanish pilot that the parallel of ° was dangerous, by reason of certain islands and shoals, on which a spanish ship had been lost some time ago. on the th march we had sight both of _guam_ and _serpana,_ the former bearing w.s.w. five leagues off, and the latter n.n.w. seven leagues. the spaniards say there is a great shoal between these islands, but nearest to serpana. while running along the shore of guam there came several flying proas to look at us, but run past with great swiftness, and none of the people would venture on board. the necessity of our stopping at this island for a supply of provisions was very great, our sea store being almost exhausted, and what remained being in a very ordinary condition, especially our bread and flour, of which we had not enough for fourteen days, even at the shortest allowance. in order to procure provisions readily, we endeavoured to get some of the natives on board from the proas, that we might detain them as hostages, in case of having to send any of our men to the governor. while turning into the harbour under spanish colours, one of the proas came under our stern, in which were two spaniards, who came on board in consequence of being assured that we were friends. soon after we sent a respectful letter to the governor, to which we next day received a civil answer, and a generous offer of any thing we needed that the island could supply. several of our officers went ashore to wait upon the governor on the th, and were well received and elegantly entertained; making the governor a present of two negro boys dressed in rich liveries, twenty yards of scarlet cloth, and six pieces of cambric, with which he seemed to be much pleased, and promised in return to give us every assistance in his power. next day, accordingly, we had a large supply of provisions, our share in the duke being about sixty hogs, ninety-nine fowls, twenty-four baskets of maize, fourteen bags of rice, forty-two baskets of yams, and cocoa-nuts. we afterwards got some bullocks, fourteen to each ship, being small lean cattle, yet gladly accepted, to which were afterwards added two cows and two calves to each ship; and we made a handsome present to the deputy governor, who was very active in getting our provisions collected. leaving guam, we proposed to go for some way directly west, to clear some islands that were in the way, and then to steer for the s.e. part of min-danao, and from thence the nearest way to ternate. in the afternoon of the th april we made land, which bore from us w.n.w. ten leagues, and which we supposed to be the n.e. part of celebes. this day we saw three water-spouts, one of which had like to have fallen on board the marquis, but the duchess broke it before it reached her by firing two guns. on the th may, we passed through between the high land of new guinea and the island of gilolo, and on the th we made another high island which we took to be ceram, yet, notwithstanding the skill and experience of captain dampier, we were at a loss to know whether it were ceram or bouro. on the th, at noon, we made our latitude ° ' s. and estimated our longitude at ° ' w. from london, and being in the latitude of the southern part of bouro,[ ] we imputed our not seeing it to the currents setting us to the westwards. we designed to have touched at amboina for refreshments, but the s.e. monsoon was already set in, and we were out of hope of being able to reach that place. in a consultation on the th, we resolved not to spend time in searching for bouro, and also to desist from attempting to go to amboina, and to make the best of our way for the straits of bouton, where we hoped to get sufficient provisions to carry us to batavia. we got into a fine large bay in bouton, where we sent our pinnace on shore, which brought off some cocoa nuts, reporting there were plenty to be had, and that the malay inhabitants seemed friendly. [footnote : the south part of bouro is only in lat. ° ' s. and about ° w. from greenwich, or london.--e.] up this bay we saw several houses and boats, and many of the malay natives walking about on the beach. we here sent our boats for provisions and pilots while the ships turned up the bay nearer to the town. on sounding frequently we could find no ground, but the natives told us of a bank opposite the town on which we might anchor. in the meantime abundance of people came off to us, bringing wheat, cocoa-nuts, yams, potatoes, papaws, hens, and several other kinds of birds, to truck for cloths, knives, scissars, and toys. these people were to appearance very civil, being mahometans of middle stature and dark tawny complexions, but their women somewhat clearer than the men. the men that came off were all naked, except a cloth round their middles, but some of the better sort had a sort of loose waistcoat, and a piece of linen rolled round their heads, with a cap of palm leaves to keep off the scorching rays of the sun. along the shore we saw several weirs for catching fish. in turning up, the prize lost ground considerably, as the current was strong against us, wherefore the duchess fired a gun in the evening to recall us and the marquis, and which we ran out and drove all night. the names of these two islands forming this bay are _cambava_ and _waushut_, being in lat. ° ' s. and long ° w. from london.[ ] being much in want of water and provisions, we made another effort to get back to this bay; and on the th, a proa came to us from the king of bouton, having a noble on board without either shoes or stockings, and a pilot to carry us up to the town. he brought each commander a piece of striped bouton cloth, a bottle of arrack, some baskets of rice, and other articles, as presents from the king; yet the first thing he said on coming aboard, was to ask us how we durst venture to come here to anchor, without first having leave from the great king of bouton? [footnote : cambaya, a considerable island to the w. of bouton, is in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich, nearly in the situation pointed out in the text.--e.] this proa brought us letters from our officers that had been sent to wait upon the king, and to endeavour to procure provisions, which stated that they had been well received, and that the town in which the king resided was large and fortified, and had several great guns. we sent back a present to the king by his messenger, and five guns were fired by each of our ships at his departure, with which he seemed well pleased. we wooded and watered at the island of _sampo,_ and several proas came off to us with fowls, maize, pompions, papaws, lemons, guinea corn, and other articles, which they trucked for knives, scissars, old clothes, and the like. the people were civil, but sold every thing very dear; and as our officers staid longer at the town than was intended, we began to suspect they were detained, as the mahometans are very treacherous. we heard from them, however, every day; and on the th mr connely came down, and told us there were four lasts of rice coming down from the king, for which it had been agreed to pay dollars, and that mr vanburgh had been detained in security of payment. the rice came next morning, and was distributed equally among our four ships, some great men coming along with it to receive the money. at this time also we in our turn detained a portuguese who came from the king, till our boat should be allowed to return; and after this, provisions became more plentiful and cheaper. the town of _bouton_ is built on the acclivity of a hill, and on the top of the hill is a fort surrounded by an old stone wall, on which some guns and pattereroes are placed. the king and a considerable number of people dwell in this fort, in which a market is held every day for the sale of provisions. the king has five wives, besides several concubines, being attended by four men carrying great canes with silver heads, who are called _pury bassas,_ and who seem to manage all his affairs. his majesty goes always bare-footed and bare-legged, being for the most part clad like a dutch skipper, with a sort of green gauze covering strewed with spangles over his long black hair; but when he appears in state, he wears a long calico gown over his jacket, and sits on a chair covered with red cloth. he is always attended by a sergeant and six men armed with match-locks; besides three others, one of whom wears a head-piece and carries a large drawn scymitar, another has a shield, and a third a large fan. four slaves sit at his feet, one holding his betel box, another a lighted match, the third his box of tobacco for smoking, and the fourth a spitting bason. the petty kings and other great men sit on his left hand and before him, every one attended by a slave, and they chew betel or tobacco in his presence, sitting cross-legged, and when they speak to him they lift their hands joined to their foreheads. the town of bouton is very populous, and beside it runs a fine river, said to come from ten miles up the country. the tide ebbs and flows a considerable way up this river, which has a bar at its mouth, so that boats cannot go in or come out at low water. at least boats belong to this river, fifty of which are war proas, armed with pattereroes, and carrying forty or fifty men each. fifty islands are said to be tributary to this king, who sends his proas once a year to gather their stated tribute, which consists in slaves, every island giving him ten inhabitants out of every hundred. there is one mosque, in boutan, which is supplied with priests from mocha, the people being mahometans. they are great admirers of music, their houses are built on posts, and their current money is dutch coins and spanish dollars. on the th our pinnace returned with mr vanburgh and all our people, having parted from his majesty on friendly terms, but could not procure a pilot. we resolved, however, not to stay any longer, but to trust to providence for our future preservation: wherefore we began to unmoor our ships, and dismissed our portuguese linguist. next day, the th june, we made three islands to the north of _salayer._ on the th our pinnace came up with a small vessel, the people on board of which said they were bound for the dutch factory of macasser on the s.w. coast of celebes. the pinnace brought away the master of this vessel, who engaged to pilot us through the straits of salayer and all the way to batavia, if we would keep it secret from the dutch, and he sent his vessel to lie in the narrowest part of the passage between the islands, till such time as our ships came up. on the th we passed the island of madura, and on the th we made the high land of cheribon, which bore s.w. from us. this morning we saw a great ship right ahead, to which i sent our pinnace for news. she was a ship of batavia of tons and fifty guns, plying to some of the dutch factories for timber. her people told us that we were still thirty dutch leagues from batavia, but there was no danger by the way, and they even supplied us with a large chart, which proved of great use to us. towards noon we made the land, which was very low, but had regular soundings, by which we knew how to sail in the night by means of the lead; in the afternoon we saw the ships in the road of batavia, being between thirty and forty sail great and small; and at six in the evening we came to anchor, in between six and seven fathoms, in the long-desired port of batavia, in lat ° ' s. and long. ° ' w. from london.[ ] we had here to alter our account of time, having lost almost a day in going round the world so far in a western course. [footnote : the latitude in the text is sufficiently accurate, but the longitude is about a degree short. it ought to have been ° ' w. from greenwich--e.] after coming in sight of batavia, and more especially after some sloops or small vessels had been aboard of us, i found that i was quite a stranger to the dispositions and humours of our people, though i had sailed so long with them. a few days before they were perpetually quarrelling, and a disputed lump of sugar was quite sufficient to have occasioned a dispute. but now, there was-nothing but hugging and shaking of hands, blessing their good stars, and questioning if such a paradise existed on earth; and all because they had arrack for eight-pence a gallon, and sugar for a penny a pound. yet next minute they were all by the ears, disputing about who should put the ingredients together; for the weather was so hot, and the ingredients so excessively cheap, that a little labour was now a matter of great importance among them. soon after our arrival at batavia we proceeded to refit our ships, beginning with the marquis; but on coming down to her bends, we found both these and the stern and stern-port so rotten and worm-eaten, that on a survey of carpenters she was found incapable of being rendered fit for proceeding round the cape of good hope, on which we had to hire a vessel to take in her loading. we then applied ourselves to refit the other ships, which we did at the island of horn, not being allowed to do so at _onrust_, where the dutch clean and careen all their ships. we hove down the duke and duchess and bachelor, the sheathing of which ships were very much worm-eaten in several places. in heaving down, the duchess sprung her fore-mast, which we replaced by a new one. when the ships were refitted, we returned to batavia road, where we rigged three of them, and sold the marquis, after taking out all her goods and stores, and distributing her officers and men into the others. during our stay at batavia, the weather was exceedingly hot, and many of our officers and men fell sick, among whom i was one, the prevalent disease being the flux, of which the master of the duke and gunner of the duchess died, and several of our men. a young man belonging to the duchess, having ventured into the sea to swim, had both his legs snapped off by a shark, and while endeavouring to take him on board, the shark bit off the lower part of his belly. we were allowed free access to the town and markets, yet found it difficult to procure salt-meat, so that we had to kill bullocks for ourselves, and pickled the flesh, taking out all the bones. arrack, rice, and fowls were very cheap, and we bought beef for two _stivers_, or two-pence a pound. there are various descriptions of this famous city, yet, as what i have to say may serve to exhibit a state of things as they were when we were there, i flatter myself that the following succinct account may neither be found useless nor disagreeable. the city of batavia is situated on the n.w. side of the famous island of java, in lat. ° ' s.[ ] during the whole year the east and west monsoons, or trade-winds, blow along shore; besides which it is refreshed by the ordinary land and sea breezes, which greatly cool the air, otherwise it would be intolerably hot. the summer begins here in may, and continues till the end of october, or beginning of november, during all which period there is a constant breeze from the east, with a clear serene sky. the winter commences in the end of october, or beginning of november, with excessive rains, which sometimes continue for three or four days without intermission. in december the west-wind blows with such violence as to stop all navigation on the coast of java. in february the weather is changeable, with frequent sudden thunder-gusts. they begin to sow in march; june is the pleasantest month; and in september they gather in their rice, and cut the sugar-canes. in october they have abundance of fruits and flowers, together with plants and herbs in great variety. around the city there is an extensive fenny plain, which has been greatly improved and cultivated by the dutch; but to the east it still remains encumbered by woods and marshes. the city of batavia is of a square form, surrounded by a strong wall, on which are twenty-two bastions, and has a river running through it into the sea. about the year there was a great earthquake in java, which overturned some part of the mountains in the interior of the island, by which the course of the river was altered; and since then the canals in batavia and the neighbourhood have not been nearly so commodious as formerly, nor has the entrance of the river been so deep; and for want of a strong current to keep it open, the dutch have been obliged to employ a great machine to preserve the navigation of the mouth of the river, so as to admit small vessels into the canals which pervade the city. batavia lies in a bay in which there are seventeen or eighteen islands, which so effectually protect it from the sea, that though large, the road is very safe. the banks of the canals are raced on both sides with stone quays, as far as the boom, which is shut up every night, and guarded by soldiers. all the streets are in straight lines, most of them being, above thirty feet broad on both sides, besides the canals, and they are all paved with bricks next the houses. all the streets are well-built and fully inhabited, fifteen of them having canals for small vessels, communicating with the main river, and shut up by booms, at which they pay certain tolls for admission; and these canals are crossed by fifty-six bridges, mostly of stone. there are numerous country-seats around the city, most of them neat and well contrived, with handsome fruit and flower gardens, ornamented with fountains and statues; and vast quantities of cocoa-nut trees planted in numerous groves, every where afford delightful shade. batavia has many fine buildings, particularly the cross-church, which is handsomely built of stone, and very neatly fitted up within. there are two or three other churches for the dutch presbyterians, and two for the portuguese catholics, who are a mixed race, besides one church for the malay protestants. in the centre of the city is the town-house, handsomely built of brick in form of a square, and two stories high. in this all the courts are held, and all matters respecting the civil government of the city are determined. there are also hospitals, speir-houses, and rasp-houses, as in amsterdam, with many other public buildings, not inferior to those of most european cities. [footnote : the latitude of batavia is ° ' s. and its longitude ° ' e. from greenwich.--e.] the chinese are very numerous, and carry on the greatest trade here, farming most of the excise and customs, being allowed to live according to their own laws, and to exercise their idolatrous worship. they have a chief of their own nation, who manages their affairs with the company, by which they are allowed great privileges, having even a representative in the council, who has a vote when any of their nation is tried for his life. these high privileges are only allowed to such of the chinese as are domicilled here, all others being only permitted to remain six months in the city, or on the island of java. the chinese have also a large hospital for their sick and aged, and manage its funds so well, that a destitute person of that nation is never to be seen on the streets. the dutch women have here much greater privileges than in holland, or any where else; as on even slight occasions they can procure divorces from their husbands, sharing the estate between them. a lawyer at this place told me, that he has known, out of fifty-eight causes depending at one time before the council-chamber, fifty-two of them for divorces. great numbers of native criminals are chained in pairs, and kept to hard labour under a guard, in cleaning the canals and ditches of the city, or in other public works. the castle of batavia is quadrangular, having four bastions connected by curtains, all faced with white stone, and provided with watch-houses. here the dutch governor-general of india, and most of the members of the council of the indies reside, the governor's palace being large, and well-built of brick. in this palace is the council-chamber, with the secretary's office, and chamber of accounts. the garrison usually consists of men; but the soldiers are generally but poorly appointed, except the governor's guards, who have large privileges, and make a fine appearance. the governor-general lives in as great splendour as if he were a king, being attended by a troop of horse-guards, and a company of halberdeers, in uniforms of yellow sattin, richly adorned with silver-lace and fringes, which attend his coach when he appears abroad. his lady also is attended by guards and a splendid retinue. the governor is chosen only for three years, from the twenty-four counsellors, called the _radts_ of india, twelve of whom must always reside in batavia. their soldiers are well trained, and a company is always on duty at each of the gates of the city and citadel; and there are between seven and eight thousand disciplined europeans in and about the city, who can be assembled in readiness for action on a short warning. besides europeans and chinese, there are many malays in batavia, and other strangers from almost every country in, india. the javanese, or ancient natives, are very numerous, and are said to be a proud barbarous people. they are of dark complexions, with flat faces, thin, short, black hair, large eyebrows, and prominent cheeks. the men are strong-limbed, but the women small. the men wear a calico wrapper, three or four times folded round their bodies; and the women are clothed from their arm-pits to their knees. they usually have two or three wives, besides concubines; and the dutch say that they are much addicted to lying and stealing. the javans who inhabit the coast are mostly mahometans; but those living in the interior are still pagans. the women are not so tawny as the men, and many of them are handsome; but they are generally amorous, and unfaithful to their husbands, and are apt to deal in poisoning, which they manage with much art. batavia is very populous, but not above a sixth part of the inhabitants are dutch. the chinese here are very numerous; and the dutch acknowledge that they are more industrious and acute traders than themselves. they are much, encouraged, because of the great trade carried on by them, and the great rents they pay for their shops, besides large taxes, and from sixteen to thirty per cent. interest for money, which they frequently borrow from the dutch. i was told, that there were about , chinese in and about batavia, who pay a capitation-tax of a dollar each per month for liberty to wear their hair, which is not permitted in their own country ever since the tartar conquest. there generally come here every year from china, fourteen or sixteen large flat-bottomed junks, of from three to five hundred tons burden. the merchants come along with their goods, which are lodged in different partitions in the vessels, as in separate warehouses, for each of which they pay a certain price, and not for the weight or measure of the cargo, as with us, so that each merchant fills up his own division as they please. they come here with the easterly monsoon, usually arriving in november or december, and go away again for china in the beginning of june. by means of these junks the dutch have all kinds of chinese commodities brought to them, and at a cheaper rate than they could bring them in their own vessels. batavia is the metropolis of the dutch trade and settlements in india, and is well situated for the spice trade, which they have entirely in their own hands. there are seldom less than twenty sail of dutch ships at batavia, carrying from thirty to fifty and sixty guns each. abraham van ribeck was governor-general when we were there. his predecessor, as i was informed, had war with the natives of the island, who had like to have ruined the settlement; but, by sowing divisions among the native princes, he at length procured peace upon advantageous conditions. this is one of the pleasantest cities i ever saw, being more populous than bristol, but not so large. they have schools for teaching all necessary education, even for latin and greek, and have a printing-house. there are many pleasant villas, or country seats, about the city; and the adjacent country abounds in rice, sugar-plantations, gardens, and orchards, with corn and sugar-mills, and mills for making gunpowder. they have also begun to plant coffee, which thrives well, so that they will shortly be able to load a ship or two; but i was told it is not so good as what comes from arabia. we sailed from batavia on the th october, , and on the th came to anchor in a bay about a league w. from java head, and remained till the th, laying in wood and water. the th december we made the land of southern africa, in lat ° ' s. and on the th we anchored in table bay in six fathoms, about a mile from shore. we remained here till the th april, waiting to go home with the dutch fleet, and on that day fell down to penguin island, whence we sailed on the th for europe. on the th july we spoke a dane bound for ireland, who informed us that a dutch fleet of ten sail was cruizing for us off shetland, which squadron we joined next day. on the d we got sight of the coast of holland, and about eight p. m. came all safe to anchor in the texel, in six fathoms, about two miles off shore. in the afternoon of the th i went up to amsterdam, where i found letters from our owners, directing us how to act as to our passage from thence home. on the th we got some provisions from amsterdam. on the d august we weighed from the texel, but the wind being contrary, had to return next morning. we weighed again on the th, and on the st october came to anchor in the downs, and on the th of that month got safe to _eriff_, where we ended our long and fatiguing voyage. * * * * * it appears, by incidental information in harris, i. , that the outfit of this voyage did not exceed £ , or £ , , and that its gross profits amounted to £ , , half of which belonged to the owners; so that they had £ , to divide, or a clear profit of £ s. d. _per centum,_ besides the value of the ships and stores.--e. chapter xi. voyage round the world, by captain john clipperton, in - .[ ] introduction. about the beginning of , some english merchants resolved to fit out two ships for a cruizing voyage to the south sea, in hopes of having equal success with the expedition under woods rogers, and provided two fine ships, the speedwell and success, every way fit for the purpose. but as the war which was expected between great britain and spain did not take place so soon as was expected, they applied for commissions from the emperor charles vi. who was then at war with philip v. king of spain. captain george shelvocke, who had served as a lieutenant in the royal navy, was accordingly sent with the speedwell to ostend, there to wait for the imperial commissions, and to receive certain flemish officers and seamen, together with as much wine and brandy as might serve both ships during their long voyage, being cheaper there than in england. this was in november , and both to shew respect to the imperial court, and to have the appearance of a german expedition, the names of the ships were changed to the prince eugene and the staremberg. [footnote : harris, i. .] having taken on board six flemish officers and ninety men, captain shelvocke sailed from ostend for the downs, where the other ship had waited for him some time. war having begun between great britain and spain, and finding that the flemings and englishmen did not agree, the owners laid aside all thoughts of using the imperial commission, and to send back all their flemish officers and men to flanders, with an allowance of two months wages, and procured a commission from george i. restoring the original names of their ships. the speedwell carried twenty-four guns and men, and the success thirty-six guns and men; the former commanded by captain george shelvocke, who was to have had the chief command in the expedition, and the other by captain john clipperton, who had formerly sailed with dampier as mate, and of whose adventures after his separation from dampier, an account has been already given. in consequence of some change of circumstances, perhaps owing to some improper conduct when in flanders, the proprietors now took the chief command from shelvocke, and conferred it upon clipperton, a man of a blunt, rough, and free-speaking disposition, but of a strict regard to his duty and rigid honesty. though somewhat passionate, he was soon appeased, and ever ready to repair any injury he had done when heated with anger, and had much justice and humanity in his nature. under captain shelvocke in the speedwell, simon hately was appointed second captain; he who had formerly lost company with woods rogers among the gallapagos islands, and had remained a considerable time prisoner among the spaniards. the instructions for this voyage from the owners were, that they were to proceed in the first place for plymouth, whence they were to sail with the first fair wind for cape horn or the straits of magellan, as was found most convenient for their passage into the south sea. they were then to cruize on the coasts of chili, peru, and mexico, and to endeavour, if possible, to meet and capture the manilla ship. to prevent all disputes and disorders, they were enjoined to be careful above all things not to separate from each other, and to undertake nothing of importance without holding a council of officers, stating the question to be debated in writing, and drawing up the resolution in writing, with the reasons on which they were grounded, which were to be signed by all the officers. all these precautions proved in a great measure useless, as the expedition wore an unfortunate aspect from the very beginning. the ships were forced to remain three months at plymouth, waiting for a wind; in which time every thing fell into confusion, and factions were formed, in which the crews of both ships were involved, from the captains down to the cabin boys. captain shelvocke highly resented the affront offered him in being deprived of the chief command; and captain clipperton, knowing the other's resentment, and being a boisterous man of strong passions which he could not conceal, there was nothing but debates and disputes. every post carried complaints to the proprietors, and brought down instructions, reproofs, and exhortations to concord. it had been fortunate for the proprietors, if they had removed one or both of the commanders; but every one had too much concern to retain his friend in post, so that private views proved the cause of public ruin.--_harris_. section i. _narrative of the voyage, from england to juan fernandez_. having at length a fair wind, the two ships sailed in company from plymouth on the th february, . it singularly happened that the speedwell had still on board the whole stock of wine, brandy, and other liquors, designed for the supply of both ships. on the th at night, there arose a violent storm, and on the th the storm abated about two in the afternoon, when captain clipperton in the success made sail, steering s. by e. while captain shelvocke in the speedwell bore away n.w. so that they never again saw each other, till they afterwards met by mere accident in the south sea. being now at sea without his consort, and very indifferently provided, captain clipperton found himself under the necessity of using a discretionary power of dispensing in some respect from his instructions; but which freedom he rarely exercised, and then with the utmost caution. in all essential points he carefully complied with the instructions, constantly consulting with his officers, and doing his utmost to prosecute his voyage with effect. the first place of rendezvous appointed in case of separation was the canaries, for which he sailed with such expedition that he arrived there on the th of march. having taken in refreshments there, for which he had much occasion, as all his liquors were in the speedwell, clipperton cruized on that station for ten days, as directed by his instructions, but not meeting his consort, he resolved to proceed to the next place appointed for that purpose, the cape de verd islands. the canary islands, or _islands of dogs_, so named by the spaniards when discovered by them in , because they found here a great number of these animals, were known to the ancients by the name of the fortunate islands, because of their fertility and the excellent temperature of their air. they are seven in number, lancerota, fuerteventura, grand canary, teneriffe, geomero, hiero or ferro, and palma. _grand canary_ is far distant from the others, and contains inhabitants, being the seat of the bishop, the inquisition, and the royal council which governs all the seven islands. in teneriffe is the famous mountain called _terraira,_ or the peak of teneriff, supposed to be the highest in the world, and which may be distinctly seen at the distance of sixty leagues. there is no reaching the top of this mountain except in july and august, because covered at all other times with snow, which is never to be seen at other places of that island, nor in the other six, at any season of the year. it requires three days journey to reach the summit of the peak, whence all the canary islands may be seen, though some of them are sixty leagues distant. _hiero_ or _ferro_ is one of the largest islands in this group, but is very barren, and so dry that no fresh water is to be found in it, except in some few places by the sea, very troublesome and even dangerous to get it from. "but, to remedy this inconvenience, providence as supplied a most extraordinary substitute, as there grows almost in every place a sort of tree of considerable size, incomparably thick of branches and leaves, the latter being long and narrow, always green and lively. this tree is always covered by a little cloud hanging over it, which wets the leaves as if by a perpetual dew, so that fine clear water continually trickles down from them into little pails set below to catch it as it falls, and which is in such abundant quantity as amply to supply the inhabitants and their cattle."[ ] [footnote : this strange story seems entirely fabulous.--e.] these islands are generally fertile, and abound with all kinds of provisions, as cattle, grain, honey, wax, sugar, cheese, and skins. the wine of this country is strong and well-flavoured, and is exported to most parts of the world; and the spanish ships bound for america usually stop at these islands to lay in a stock of provisions. about leagues to the west of these islands, mariners are said to have frequently seen an island named _st baranura,_ which they allege is all over green and very pleasant, full of trees, and abounding in provisions, as also that it is inhabited by christians; but no person can tell what sect or denomination they are of, nor what language they speak. the spanish inhabitants of the canaries have often attempted to go there, but could never find the way; whence some believe that it is only an illusion or enchanted island, seen only at certain times. others allege a better reason, saying that it is small and almost always concealed by clouds, and that ships are prevented from coming near it by the strength of the currents. it is certain however, that there is such an island, and at the distance from the canaries already mentioned.[ ] [footnote : this island of st baranora, or st brandon, is merely imaginary.--e.] leaving gomera on the th march, clipperton came in sight of st vincent, one of the cape de verd islands, in the evening of the st, and came to anchor in the bay next morning. he here found a french ship, and the diamond belonging to bristol, taking in a cargo of asses for jamaica. continuing here for ten days, in hopes of meeting the speedwell, but in vain, the crew of the success became much disheartened, so that clipperton had much difficulty in persuading them to persist in the enterprize. the _cape de verd islands,_ called _salt islands_ by the dutch, derive their name from cape de verd on the coast of africa. the sea which surrounds them is covered by a green herb, called _sergalso_ or cresses by the portuguese, resembling water-cresses, and so thickly that hardly can the water be seen, neither can ships make their way through it but with a stiff gale. this herb produces berries, resembling white gooseberries, but entirely tasteless. no one knows how this herb grows, as there is no ground or land about the place where it is found floating on the water, neither can it be supposed to come from the bottom, as the sea is very deep, and is in many places quite unfathomable. this sea-weed begins to be seen in the lat. of ° n. where it is so thick that it seems as if islands, but is not to be met with in any other part of the ocean. the _cape de verd islands_, when first discovered by the portuguese in , were all desert and uninhabited, but they now inhabit several of them. they are ten in number, st jago, st lucia, st vincent, st antonio, st nicolas, ilha blanca, ilha de sal, ilha de maio, ilha de fogo, and bonavista. they now afford plenty of rice, flour, tartarian wheat, oranges, lemons, citrons, bananas, ananas or pine-apples, ignames, batatas, melons, cucumbers, pompions, garden and wild figs, and several other sorts of fruits. they have vineyards also, which produce ripe grapes twice a year; and have abundance of cattle, both great and small, but especially goats. the capital city is st jago, in the island of that name, in which resides the governor who commands over all these islands under the king of portugal. it is also the residence of an archbishop, whose see extends over all these islands, and over all the conquests of the portuguese on this side of the cape of good hope. these islands afford good convenience for ships on long voyages procuring a supply of fresh water. on the east side of maio there is a little river, and as the island is uninhabited, there is nobody to hinder one from taking it: there is also water to be had on st antonio, where also good refreshments may be had, of oranges, lemons, and other fruits; and the portuguese on this island are so few in number, that they cannot prevent one from taking what they please. may the th having an observation, clipperton found his latitude to be ° ' s. being then off cape _virgin mary_, the northern point at the eastern entrance into the straits of magellan, distant from _fuego_, one of the cape de verd islands, leagues, the meridional distance being ° ' w.[ ] next day they entered the straits. proceeding onwards to queen elizabeth's island, the pinnace was sent off to a fresh-water river on the main, which was found frozen up. they saw large flocks of geese and ducks at this place, but they were very shy. by some accident the surgeon's mate was left ashore at this place by the boat, and when brought on board next morning he was almost dead with the cold. they remained some time at queen elizabeth's island, which is dry and mostly barren, yet they found plenty of sallad herbs, which were of infinite service, the crew being much afflicted by the scurvy. the principal herb was _smallage_ of extraordinary size, which they eat raw, or boiled in their broth, and of which they brought away a considerable quantity of juice in bottles. on the th june, the empty water casks were sent ashore to be filled, and the carpenters went to look out for a proper piece of timber for a mizen-mast. they found abundance of wild fowl and shell fish on shore, which were most welcome to all the company, as they found their appetites to increase, while the necessity compelled the enforcement of short allowance. they anchored on the d in a fine bay, which they named _no-bottom bay_, because of its great depth of water. the trees here are lofty, and so loaded with snow as to be a most astonishing sight. on the th there came to them a canoe in which were two men, a woman, and a boy. these were of middle stature, with dark complexions, broad, round faces, and low features, with low foreheads, lank short black hair, and no clothing except a piece of skin to cover their middles. the most extraordinary circumstance about them, was a fine streak round their wrists of an azure colour. they seem to be very jealous of their women, as they would on no account permit the woman who was along with them to come on board. clipperton ordered them bread and cheese, and a dram of brandy, which last they refused to take, but they eat the bread and cheese voraciously. they had a fire in the middle of their canoe, which was made of the bark of trees sewed together, and they brought with them some wild geese and ducks, which they exchanged for knives. they had bows and arrows, together with some fishing tackle, and went away after two hours stay, making signs that they would return. [footnote : the meridional distance between these two stations is ° ' w. mayo being in long. ° ', and cape virgin mary in long. ° ' both w. from greenwich.--e.] next day the pinnace went ashore, and returned in the evening with the indian canoe filled with large muscles, which our people bought from the indians, for knives, bread, and other trifles. in the beginning of july the weather was very moderate. clipperton found the savages in these straits by no means so mischievous as they are usually represented, of which they had two remarkable instances: as, on one occasion, one of the crew was on shore two nights and a day, and was well used by the natives; and, on another occasion, one of the natives being left accidentally all night in the ship, the natives came for him next day without fear; so that, if well treated, they do not seem to be treacherous. in another canoe which came to the ship there were several women, each having a necklace of five or six rows of small shining shells, very nicely strung, resembling mother-of-pearl. all this time the crew was very sickly, scarcely a day passing in which one or more did not die, which was generally attributed to the want of something comfortable to drink in this rigorous climate, all the liquors intended for the voyage having been left in the speedwell. the weather was sometimes fair and moderate for two or three days together, but was continually varying, and perhaps for two or three days following they had continual snow, rain, and sleet, with frequent great flows of wind that were intolerably sharp and piercing. william pridham, the master-gunner, died on the th july, and was buried ashore next day, having a strong, plank with an inscription driven into the ground at the head of his grave. on the th july, captain mitchell and lieutenant davidson went in the pinnace, furnished with all necessaries, in order to make a discovery of a passage on the southern side of the straits, through which a french tartan is said to have gone into the south sea in may, , and to examine if there were any anchorage beyond cape _quad_. the pinnace returned on the th, having found the passage, but so narrow that it was deemed too hazardous. their provisions falling short, they were forced to return before they had satisfied themselves sufficiently; yet they found several good bays for anchoring in, to the n.w. of cape _quad_. they got a seal from some indians, which they broiled and eat, and said that it was as good as venison. on the st of august, captain mitchell and three other officers went a second time to examine to look for the new passage. but, after the strictest examination, they could not find that it led into the south sea, but only into an icy bay, and at all events was too narrow for their ship. on the return of captain mitchell, it was resolved to prosecute their way through the straits, which they did with much difficulty, getting into the south sea on the th of august, but in so weak and sickly a condition as to be utterly incapable of attempting any enterprize for some time, having been long on short allowance of only one piece of beef or pork to a mess of six men. in pursuance, therefore, of his instructions, captain clipperton bore away for the island of juan fernandez, the third and last appointed place of rendezvous with the speedwell. the success accordingly anchored at juan fernandez on the th september, and search was made for any testimony of the speedwell having been there, but to no purpose. captain clipperton resolved, in compliance with his instructions, to remain here, or cruizing in the neighbourhood, for a month; and also had an inscription cut on a conspicuous tree fronting the landing-place, to the following purport: "_captain john---- w. magee, _." this william magee was surgeon of the success, and well known to captain shelvocke and all his company; and clipperton omitted his own name in the inscription, because he had been formerly in the south sea, and had been long a prisoner among the spaniards, for which reason he did not wish to give them notice of his return into this sea. the sick were all landed on the th, and every convenience afforded by the island made use of to promote their recovery. the weather was very changeable all the time of the success continuing here, with much rain, and some hard gales of wind. they took, however, a considerable number of goats, which not only served them for present subsistence, but enabled them to increase their sea store, as they had an opportunity of salting a good many; for some french ships, that had been at the island, had left a considerable quantity of salt ready made. they likewise cleaned the ship's bottom, and took on board a supply of wood and water. it was now evident that the success would have to act singly in these seas, as clipperton was fully of opinion that the speedwell was lost, or at least gave out so among the company, to prevent them from continually cursing shelvocke for running away with their liquors, which some of the sick men did with their dying breaths. the beauty and fertility of this island, compared with the dangers and difficulties unavoidable in the south sea, tempted four of the men to remain in the island, and they actually ran away into the mountains. as it was very inconvenient to lose so many good hands, captain clipperton took measures for recovering them, but ineffectually. at last, a fortnight after their desertion, and only the day before the ship was to leave the island, two of them were caught by the goat-hunters and brought aboard. they confessed that they had been hard put to it for the first five days, being forced to subsist entirely on the cabbage-trees, which are here in great plenty; but having accidentally found some fire, left by the goat-hunters, it served them in good stead, as it enabled them to cook their victuals. that same evening they brought on board all the goats-flesh they had salted, together with four casks of seal-oil, and every thing else they had on shore. a cross was set up on shore, at the foot of which a bottle was buried, containing a letter for captain shelvocke, appointing another place of rendezvous, with certain signals by which to know each other if they happened to meet at sea. section ii. _proceedings of the success in the south seas_. clipperton left juan fernandez on the th october, leaving two men behind, as successors to governor selkirk, but of whose adventures we have no mention. he now steered his course to the northwards, till in the parallel of lima, where he proposed to commence operations, though in a very indifferent condition, having lost thirty men since passing the equator. on the th, being in the latitude of lima, they captured a snow of forty tons, laden with sand and rubbish for manure, on board of which were seven indians and two negroes, their master having been left sick on shore. the only thing she contained worth taking were two jars full of eggs, two jars of treacle, and two dollars. next day they captured a ship of tons, laden with timber from guayaquil, in which were two friars, sixteen indians, and four negroes. on the th they took a ship of tons, bound from panama to lima, which had been taken by captain rogers at guayaquil ten years before. she had many passengers on board, and a loading of considerable value. another prize was taken on the d of november, being a vessel of seventy tons, on board of which was the countess of _laguna_ and several other passengers, with a great sum of money, and jars of wine and brandy, which was very acceptable. captain clipperton desired the countess to inform him, whether she thought proper to remain in the prize, or to accept of such accommodations as he was able to give her in the success. she chose to continue in the prize, on which he sent an officer of marines with a guard, to prevent her from being molested, and with strict orders not to allow any person to enter her cabin, except her own domestics. he also sent part of the wine and brandy on board the other prizes, for the use of his seamen who had charge of them. although captain clipperton had now so many prizes, that above a third of his company was detached to take charge of them, he was still as eager to take more as if he had commanded a squadron of men of war, instead of a single privateer weakly manned. on the th november, a london-built pink of about tons was discovered at some distance, bound from panama to lima with a cargo of woad, of very little value to clipperton, yet he added this to the number of his prizes. the master of this vessel, being a shrewd fellow, soon saw the error clipperton had fallen into, and resolved to turn it to his advantage. guessing by the number of prizes already attending the english ship, that he could not spare many men to take possession of his ship, and having above a dozen passengers, he directed them to hide themselves in the hold, along with a frenchman who served as boatswain, with orders to seize as many of the english as went down below, assuring them that he with the ship's company would be able to manage the rest. when this ship struck, clipperton sent lieutenant sergeantson with eight men to take possession of her; who, on coming on board, ordered all he saw on deck into the great cabin, at the door of which he placed a sentinel. thinking every thing was now secure, he ordered the topsails to be hoisted, in order to stand down towards the success; after which, the men went down into the hold, to see what loading was in the ship. on this the concealed passengers sallied out, knocked most of them down, and the boatswain came behind mr sergeantson, whom he knocked down likewise, and then bound all the englishmen in the hold. in the mean time, the crew in the great cabin, spaniards, indians, and negroes, secured the sentinel. having thus recovered possession of the ship, the spanish captain resolved on getting ashore at all events, in which design he ran his ship among the rocks, where he with his crew and prisoners were all in considerable danger. he then ordered all the english prisoners to be unbound, and all got safe on shore, after which lieutenant sergeantson and his men were all sent prisoners to lima. the viceroy was so much pleased with this hardy action of the spanish shipmaster, that he ordered a new vessel to be built for him at guayaquil, ordering all the traders in peru to be taxed for defraying the expence, as a reward for the service rendered on this occasion to the public, and an encouragement for others to behave in like manner. on the arrival of the prisoners at lima, they were all strictly examined, when one of them gave a full account of every thing he knew, particularly of the two men who remained on the island of juan fernandez, and of the letter left in a bottle for the speedwell, the consort of the success. on this information, a small vessel was fitted out and sent to juan fernandez, with orders to fetch away the two men and the bottle containing the signals, which was accordingly done. perceiving on the th november, that the last-taken, prize had been recovered by her crew, as on making the signal to tack, she was seen to make all possible sail towards the land, captain clipperton immediately suspected what had happened; and finding it impossible to get up with her, he began to consider what was best for him to do, to prevent the bad effects which might reasonably be expected from her crew getting on shore and communicating the alarm. wherefore, he very prudently determined to set all his spanish prisoners at liberty, as well to save provisions, which he could not very well spare, as that their good usage from him might be speedily known, in hopes of the same being returned to those of his men who had fallen into the hands of the spaniards. on the th we took another prize of about tons, laden with timber from panama to lima, having on board forty negroes and thirty spaniards, most of the last being passengers. on the th he came to anchor with all his prizes at the island of plata, where he began seriously to reflect how best to turn the expedition to the profit of the owners, as well as of himself and crew. he knew well that all the coast was now alarmed, and that two men-of-war were fitting out on purpose to take him, one of fifty and the other of thirty guns. he had no expectations of the ships and goods he had taken being ransomed in that pan of the world, and believed they would prove of little value if brought home; and reflecting on what had formerly been proposed by captain woods rogers on a similar occasion, of sending a cargo of such prize goods to brazil, he resolved to try that experiment. accordingly, he fitted out the bark in which he had taken the countess de laguna, armed her with eight guns, and gave her a crew of thirteen englishmen and ten negroes, with what provisions and stores he could spare, calling her the _chickly_. into this vessel he put a cargo of european commodities, valued at upwards of ten thousand pounds, and on the th november, , he sailed for brazil under the command of captain mitchell. as soon as she was gone, he gave up his other prizes to the spaniards, taking out of them whatever he thought worth keeping, and detaining one of the spanish masters to serve him as pilot, with all the negroes; after which he sailed from la plata to resume his cruize on his former station. the th december he took a vessel bound from cherisse for panama with provisions, which employed the launch and pinnace of the success a whole day in bringing on board the flour and other provisions out of the prize. having got as much flour out of her as they could well stow away in the success, clipperton ordered the main-mast of the prize to be cut away, lest she should overset, and then dismissed her. from the people of this prize, they learnt that lieutenant sergeantson and his men had been carried prisoners to lima. on the th they anchored in _guanchaco_ bay, where they found two ships at anchor, which had been abandoned by their crews, and every thing taken out of them, except some bread and a few jars of water. these ships were set on fire. it was now resolved to bear away for the gallapagos islands for refreshments, and accordingly anchored in york road, on the north side of the duke of york's island, on the th january, , immediately under the equinoctial line. they here found good water, scrubbed and cleaned their ship's bottom, and after ten days proceeded to the northwards, in order to cruize on the coast of mexico. the circumstance of finding good water at this place, sufficiently justifies captain cowley from the aspersions thrown upon him by later writers, who allege that he gave a fanciful and untrue account of these islands, as they had not been able to find water or anchorage at such of them as they tried. having returned to the american coast, they fell in with a ship on the st of january, which they took after a long chase. this proved to be the prince eugene, on board of which was the marquis of _villa roche_ and all his family, bound from panama, where he had been president, to lima. this was the very ship in which captain clipperton had been circumvented and taken in his last voyage in these seas,[ ] when he had been very indifferently used by the marquis, who was now at his mercy, and whom he used, notwithstanding, with all civility. on the th march, a priest who was on board the prize, and the boatswain of that ship, desired leave to go on shore at the island of _velas_,[ ] which was granted on condition that they would induce the inhabitants to bring some bullocks to the shore, to exchange them for such goods as they might think proper to accept in payment. this they promised, and on the th they returned with four bullocks, together with some fowls and fruit as a present to the marquis, but said their alcalde, or governor, would on no account permit them to trade with the english. they also learnt that captain mitchell had been ashore at this place, and had shot some of their cattle, but on men appearing under arms, had been forced to retire. this story seemed the more probable, as these people had some linen and other articles of clothing belonging to captain mitchell's men. next day some letters from the marquis were intercepted, which were by no means conformable to the strict honour to which the spanish nobility usually pretend, as they were meant to stir up the inhabitants of velas to surprise the men belonging to captain clipperton, and to seize his boat when it went ashore for water. upon this captain clipperton confined the marquis for some days; yet allowed him and his lady to go ashore on the th, leaving their only child as an hostage; and soon after the prize was restored to her captain. [footnote : the circumstance here alluded to no where appears in the narratives of any of the former circumnavigations.--e.] [footnote : perhaps velas point is here meant, in lat. ° ' n. on the coast of that province of mexico called _corta rica_.--e.] on the th april, the marquis and his lady came on board, accompanied by the alcalde, and an agreement being made for their ransom, the lady and child were sent ashore, and the marquis remained as sole hostage. in the whole of this transaction, clipperton seems to have been outwitted by the marquis, who lately broke his word, and by this the crew of the success were provoked to murmur against their captain for trusting him. on the th of april, the success anchored in the gulf of amapala, or fouseca, in lat. ° n. and not being able to water there, repaired to the _island of tigers_,[ ] where they procured water with great ease. they went to the island of gorgona, in lat. ° ' n. for the same purpose, on the th june. on the th of that month they took a prize which had once been in their hands before, now laden with timber and cocoa-nuts; and on the th august, anchored with their prize at the island of _lobor de la mar_, in lat. ° ' s. where they set up tents on shore, scrubbed and cleaned their ship's bottom, and took whatever seemed of any value out of the prize. [footnote : perhaps the isla del cana, in lat. ° ' n. is here meant, or it may have been one of the islands in the gulf of amapala.--e.] while here, a plot was entered into by the crew, for seizing the captain and officers, whom they proposed to leave on the island of lobos, and then to run away with the ship; but this was happily discovered on the th september, the two principal ringleaders severely punished, and the rest pardoned. on the th, they took a fishing-boat with a considerable quantity of well-cured and salt fish. on the st november they went into the bay of conception, on the coast of chili, in lat. ° ' s. in chace of a vessel which outsailed them and escaped; whence they bore away for coquimbo, in lat. ° ' s. and took a ship laden with sugar, tobacco, and cloth, on their passage between these two places. on the th in the afternoon, on opening the harbour of coquimbo, they saw three men-of-war at anchor with their topsails loose, which immediately slipped their cables and stood after them. the success hauled close upon a wind, as the prize did likewise, on which the best sailing spanish man-of-war gave chase to the prize, which she soon came up with and took. the two other ships crowded all sail after the success, till afternoon, when the biggest carried away her mizen-mast, on which she fired a gun and stood in for the shore, which favoured the escape of the success. in the re-captured prize, they lost their third lieutenant, mr james milne, with twelve men. the captain of the spanish man-of-war which took him, was the famous don blas de lesso, who was governor of carthagena when that place was attacked by admiral vernon. at first don blas treated mr milne very roughly, being enraged at having missed taking the english privateer, and had only retaken a spanish prize, and in the first transport of his passion struck mr milne over the head with the flat of his sword. but on coming to himself he sent for mr milne, and generously asked his pardon, and finding he had been stripped by the soldiers, ordered him a new suit of clothes, and kept him some time in his own ship. he afterwards procured his liberty at lima, paid his passage to panama, giving him a jar of wine and another of brandy for his sea-store, and put dollars in his pocket to carry him to england. this unlucky accident of losing the prize revived the ill-humour among the crew of the success, who did not indeed enter into any new plot, but became much dejected. on the th they gave chase to another ship, which, after exchanging a few shots, bore away and left them. this was a fortunate escape, as she was a ship of force commanded by one fitzgerald, which had been fitted out on purpose to take captain shelvocke; but knowing this not to be the ship he was in search of, and doubting her strength, had no great stomach to engage. these repeated disappointments, as they broke the spirit of the crew, had a very bad effect on captain clipperton, who now began to take to drinking, which grew at last to such a pitch that he was hardly ever quite sober; owing to which unhappy propensity he committed many errors in his future proceedings. it was now determined to proceed to the northward in search of plunder, as also to procure a supply of provisions, especially flour, having expended all their stock of that article, and being now reduced to three pounds of indian corn for a mess of six men per day. having but indifferent fortune, and being in sight of point _helena_ in lat. ° ' s. they resolved to bear away for the gallapagos islands, on the th november, having in the first place set ashore the prisoners belonging to the vessel in which mr milne was taken. in their passage to these islands, they suspected an error in their log-line, which was found three fathoms too short, making an error in their computation on this run of about fifty-two miles. on the th of december they lost their purser, mr fairman, and the same day found themselves near the gallapagos, being in lat. ° ' n. with a strong current running to the s.w. against which they had to contend. on the th the pinnace was sent to look out for an anchorage at one of the islands, but returned without finding any, having seen many tortoises on shore. upon this the pinnace and yawl were sent out to bring off some of these animals, and returned with sufficient fish to serve the whole company for a day, but had been unable to land for turtle, in consequence of a prodigious surf on the shore. this island was a mere rock in lat. ° ' n. and the ground all about it was foul, with soundings from fifty to eighty fathoms. leaving this island, they proceeded to another in the s.w. but could find no anchorage. being unwilling to lose more time, they made the best of their way for the island of _cocos_,[ ] where they hoped to procure fish, fowls, and cocoa-nuts. on the th they saw several islands in the n.e. through which they passed, and got clear of them all by the th,[ ] but as the people daily fell sick, they grew very apprehensive of the dangerous situation they might incur in case of missing the island of which they were now in search. on the th they had the satisfaction of seeing the long-wished for island in the n.w. at the distance of nine leagues; and on the th, after coming to anchor, all of them went on shore that could be spared from the necessary duty of the ship, in order to build a hut for the reception of the sick, who were then carried on shore and comfortably lodged. they here had plenty of fish, fowls, eggs, and cocoa-nuts, with other refreshments. the captain here opened the last hogshead of brandy for the use of the company, giving every man a dram daily as long as it lasted; and on new-year's-day , he allowed a gallon of strong beer to every mess. by means of abundant nourishing food and much ease, the crew began to recover their health and spirits, and were soon able to take on board wood and water, though with considerable difficulty, as a very heavy swell set in from the northwards at the full and change of the moon, so that they had to wait till after the spring-tides were over, before they were able to get any thing off. [footnote : the island of cocos, nearly north from the gallapagos, is in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] [footnote : these were probably some of the most northerly of the gallapagos.--e.] on the th january, , captain clipperton made the necessary dispositions for sailing, but it was three days before he could get his people on board, and then no less than eleven of them were missing, three englishmen and eight negroes. it is not easy to conceive what could have induced the former to hazard themselves at this island, so far removed from the continent, and so little likely to be frequented by ships, and whence they had so very small a chance of ever getting off. it must be attributed to their dread of the dangers and fatigues to which they had been continually exposed, and to their living almost continually on short allowance, whereas they were here sure of plenty of provisions, with no other fatigue but the trouble of procuring and dressing them. perhaps they might have received some assurance from the marquis, of having a ship sent for them when he obtained his liberty, which was at least a hazardous contingency; and there is great reason to doubt was never performed. leaving the island of cocos on the th, they arrived on the coast of mexico on the th, when they met with an extraordinary adventure. discovering a sail about seven in the evening, they gave chase and sent their pinnace to board, which came up with the chase about eleven. on the return of the pinnace, her people reported that this was a spanish ship named the jesu maria, but now in possession of captain shelvocke, who had now only forty of his men remaining, all the rest being dead or dispersed. he said that he had lost the speedwell at the island of juan fernandez, where he staid five months, and built a bark out of the wreck of the speedwell. putting to sea in this bark, he had coasted along chili and peru, meeting several ships, but could not take any, till at length he captured the jesu maria at pisco near lima. shelvocke's people differed much in their stories, but it appeared that there was no regular command among them; and, as used to be the practice in the buccaneers, they had chosen a quarter-master, every thing being carried by a majority of votes, being all equal, and snared every thing among themselves, contrary to the articles of agreement with their owners. on the th, mr clipperton sent for the purser of the jesu maria, who gave but a dark account of their proceedings, only that he was not allowed to take any account of the treasure for the owners. captain shelvocke afterwards came on board the success, accompanied by mr dod, his lieutenant of marines, who proposed to remain in the success, having been very ill used by the other crew for his attachment to the interest of the owners, at least so he said, and was credited by captain clipperton and his officers. next day, shelvocke sent on board the success six chests of pitch and _dammer_, two barrels of tar, and six slabs of copper; and captain clipperton gave him _twenty-four_ quarter deck guns,[ ] some round shot, a compass, and a few other necessaries. shelvocke's people laid out a great deal of money with the crew of the success, in the purchase of clothes, shoes, hats, and other necessaries; and there remained with them two of shelvocke's officers, mr hendric the purser, and mr dod the lieutenant of marines. [footnote : this must be a gross error, as the success originally carried only _twenty-four_ guns; and accordingly, in the subsequent account of the circumnavigation of shelvocke, only two quarter-deck guns are mentioned.--e.] still keeping to the northward on the coast of mexico, the success afterwards saw the jesu maria several times; and at length, in the beginning of march, it was resolved to propose a conjunct attempt on the manilla ship on her way to acapulco. accordingly on the th march, in a general consultation by the officers of both ships, it was agreed to make the attempt jointly, both ships boarding her at once, as the only chance of taking her. on the th, in another consultation, captain clipperton and his officers agreed to certain articles, which were sent to captain shelvocke, proposing, if he and his crew would refund all the money they had shared among themselves, contrary to the articles agreed upon with the owners, and put the whole into a joint stock, thus all their faults should be forgiven, both companies uniting, and should then proceed together to cruise for the acapulco ship. this proposal was very indifferently received by shelvocke and his men, who did not care to part with what they possessed, and declined to give any answer to this proposal. perceiving, therefore, that nothing good was to be expected from their quondam consort, considering also that the usual time of the manilla ship arriving at acapulco was already elapsed, that most of their remaining men were weak and sickly, and that they were only victualled for five months at their present short allowance, captain clipperton and his men thought it was now proper for them to proceed for the east indies without loss of time, in order to preserve what little they had got for their owners and themselves. it was therefore resolved upon to put this plan into immediate execution, without any farther consultation with shelvocke, and to leave the coast of america directly. they were now to the s.s.e. of port marquis, in lat. ° 'n. and accordingly on the th march shaped their course for crossing the pacific ocean towards the ladrone islands. the manilla ships usually leave the philippine islands about the beginning of july, and arrive at the ladrones about the beginning of september, whence they proceed for acapulco, where they are expected to arrive about the middle of january. they generally remain at acapulco, till towards the latter end of april, and then sail for manilla. this, though the general rule, is liable to some alterations, according as the trade-winds set in earlier or later. from this account, it is plain that the ship they had now proposed to wait for must have been the galleon on her passage from acapulco for manilla, which always has a prodigious quantity of silver on board. section iii. _voyage of the success from the coast of mexico to china._ the success performed the voyage from the coast of mexico to the ladrones in fifty-three days, arriving in sight of the island of serpana on the th may, . this island is in lat. ° 'n. though usually laid down in the spanish maps in °.[ ] in this passage they lost six of their men, and the rest were reduced to so weak and low a state, that the sight of this island gave them great joy. they determined however to proceed to guam, as best known to europeans, and where they were most likely to procure provisions; but in their present weakly condition it might have been better to have gone to serpana, where the spaniards have not so great a force as at guam. they anchored in the road at this island on the th may, and sent their pinnace ashore with a flag of truce to obtain provisions. but the people informed them that, without leave of the governor, they could not trade with them. application was therefore made to the governor for this purpose, which was favourably received for the present; and mr godfrey, the owners agent, who had been sent up to the governor at umatta, returned on the th to the success in one of the country proas, with a message from the governor, intimating, that they should be furnished with provisions, if they behaved civilly and paid honestly. the launch arrived soon after, bringing on board some cattle, bread, sugar, brandy, fruit, and vegetables; and on the th the governor sent a handsome present of palm-wine, sugar, and brandy, with a large quantity of chocolate. [footnote : serpana is probably some small island close to guam, not inserted in general maps. the centre of guam is in ° 'n.] the _island of guam_, in lat. ° 'n. long ° 'e. from greenwich, is nearly ten leagues long from n. to s. and five leagues from e. to w. it has several villages, the most remarkable being amatta, atry, agana, anigua, asa, hugatee, and rigues. the natives are formerly said to have amounted to , souls, but at this time did not exceed a tenth of the number, of which a few hundreds remained independent in the mountains, in spite of every effort to reduce them under the spanish dominion. the natives are strong, active, vigorous, and war-like, but are represented as cruel, vindictive, and treacherous, though perhaps the spaniards have exaggerated their bad qualities, to extenuate their own tyranny and oppression. the spanish garrison at this island at this time consisted of , relieved from time to time from manilla, and the king of spain is said to have allowed , dollars yearly for the maintenance of this port, the only use of which is to give refreshments to the annual ship which goes between manilla and acapulco. having agreed with the governor of guam for the ransom of the marquis de villa roche, that nobleman went ashore on the th may, accompanied by the agent, the first lieutenant, and the doctor; and the success gave him a salute of five guns at parting. for six days after, the launch was continually employed in bringing wood, water, and provisions on board, during which time the governor requested to be supplied with some arms and ammunition in exchange, and accordingly captain clipperton sent him twelve fuzees, three jars of gunpowder, sixty rounds of shot, four pair of pistols, and several cutlasses, swords, and daggers. on the th a letter was sent on board, demanding the jewels belonging to the marquis, some consecrated plate, and two negroes, who were christians; as also requiring to have a certificate signed by the captain and officers of the success, that peace had been proclaimed between britain and spain; besides which, this letter intimated that mr godfrey and mr pritty were detained till all these demands were complied with. in reply, captain clipperton sent a letter, containing a certificate, that he had been informed by the solidad, the last prize taken on the coast of chili, that peace had been concluded between britain and spain; but threatning, if the agreed ransom for the marquis, and the two gentlemen now detained, were not sent off in twenty-four hours, that he would demolish all the houses on shore, burn the ship in the harbour, and do all the mischief he could at the philippine islands. soon after, a letter was received from the governor, saying that he would pay for the consecrated plate, and desiring to have more powder and shot; to which clipperton made answer that he could not spare any more. the yawl went ashore on the th for more provisions; but the people were told that no more could be had, unless they sent more powder and shot. upon this clipperton weighed anchor, and stood in for the harbour, sending the pinnace a-head to sound. the people on shore had raised a battery during the sham treaty about the ransom of the marquis, from which they fired on the pinnace. the pinnace now returned to clipperton, and reported that the only channel they could find lay within pistol-shot of the shore; yet at six in the afternoon clipperton persisted to carry the success into the harbour, making directly for the ship that lay there at anchor. the _spaniards_ carried her into shoal-water,[ ] where she was exposed to two fires, one from the new battery on land, almost directly over head, and the other from the ship. at nine she got foul of the rocks, when they had to cut away two of their anchors, endeavouring to get her off, all the while the enemy plying them warmly with shot and stones from the new battery on the hill, so that they suffered severely in the hull and rigging of the ship. they also had three men wounded, besides losing the first lieutenant, mr davidson, an honest man and a good officer. thus the success had to remain in a miserable situation, exposed during the whole night to the continual fire of the enemy; and the surface of the water being as smooth as a mill-pond, the ship was easily seen in the night, while her unfortunate crew had no other mark to fire at but the flashes of the enemy's guns. [footnote : this unexplained circumstance probably meant, that the success had at this time _spanish_ pilots, who betrayed her.--e.] in this dangerous emergency, captain clipperton being overcome with liquor, and quite unable to command, the officers came to the resolution of running clear from the enemy as soon as they could get the ship afloat, and signed a paper to indemnify mr cook if he would assume the command. by four in the afternoon of the th they got the ship afloat, and cut away their small bower anchor, but ran aground again in ten minutes. at nine they carried out the kedge-anchor, but the hawser broke in heaving. they now carried out another hawser, having a lower-deck gun fixed to it, as they had now lost all their anchors, and were still aground. at two in the morning of the th the enemy repeatedly called upon them to surrender, or they might expect no quarter. at five they carried out the main-top-mast shrowd hawser, with another gun, still plying the enemy with their great guns and small-arms, though they were able to do little harm; while the enemy never missed them, especially directing their shot at the boats of the success, whenever they saw them in motion. at eleven in the forenoon of the th they carried out the remains of their best bower-cable, with two lower-deck guns, which they dropped right a-head in five fathoms water. they now cleared the hold, ready to start their water to lighten the ship; got their upper and lower-deck guns forwards, to bring her by the head as she hung abaft on the rocks, and kept two guns constantly firing from the stern-ports at the enemy's battery, but could not get them to bear. during the last twenty-four hours they had fortunately only one man wounded; but the ship was wretchedly injured between wind and water, and her rigging torn to pieces. at six in the afternoon of the th the ship floated, when they cut away their yawl, having been sunk by a shot. they hove taught their cable, and then cut it away, together with the two hawsers, and sent the pinnace a-head to tow the ship off. just as the ship got afloat, the enemy fired with great briskness from their new battery, their shot raking through the success between wind and water, killed one of her men, and wounded two others. the success had now remained fifty hours as a fair mark for the enemy to fire at, during which they lost both their bower-anchors and cables, with the stern and kedge-anchors, four hawsers, four lower-deck guns, nineteen barrels of powder, two men killed and six wounded; and had they not now got off, it was believed they must have been sunk before morning. at ten in the forenoon of the st they hove to, and began to splice their rigging, not a rope of which had escaped the shot of the enemy. the masts and yards were all sore wounded; and the carpenters had to work during the whole night, stopping-the shot-holes in the hull. they stowed away most of their guns in the hold, barred up the ports, hoisted in the launch and pinnace, and at noon steered away west under an easy sail, hoping to save their passage before the western monsoon set in; the carpenters being fully occupied in fishing the masts and yards, and the rest of the crew in mending the rigging. at six in the evening of the st may, , the body of the island of guam bore e. seven leagues distant, and they then took their departure; being in ° ' n. designing now for china. the conduct of captain clipperton at guam was certainly exceedingly erroneous. he ought on no account to have permitted the marquis to go on shore till he had received the money for his ransom, and all the provisions of which he stood in need. the marquis had before behaved very ill to him, and had no title to any favour; and if he had kept the marquis, the governor of guam would not have had any opportunity of putting his schemes in execution. clipperton committed also an egregious error in pretending to attack the town, and the ship in the harbour. though drunkenness is rather an aggravation than an excuse for misconduct, yet it is to be considered that clipperton was a mere sailor, who had not the benefit of a liberal education, and that he fell into this sad vice from disappointment and despair. on all occasions he had shewn a humane and even generous disposition, with the most inflexible honesty, and a constant regard to the interest of his owners. he is therefore much to be pitied, for having fled to the bottle under a load of misfortunes too heavy for him to bear. the voyage upon which they had now to enter was very dangerous, the run from manilla to china being estimated at leagues; besides that the distance they had now to sail was much greater. they had only received a very moderate addition to their former scanty stock of provisions; and their vessel had been so roughly handled in the late unfortunate affair, that they were very apprehensive she would not last out the voyage. on careful examination, she was found to be in a very shattered condition, having scarcely a whole timber in her upper works, and one of her _fashion pieces_ being shot through, which is a principal support of the after-part of the ship, they were obliged to strap her, to keep her together. as it blew pretty fresh, they durst not carry sail, and for nearly a week together had to scud almost under bare poles, through variable winds, bad weather, and a rough sea. this was a melancholy situation for the people, in seas with which they were little acquainted, and sailing by charts on which they could not depend. yet they found the accounts and charts of dampier much superior to those laid down by persons of much greater figure, so that without these they had hardly been able to have extricated themselves from their difficulties. the th june they were in sight of the _bashee_ islands, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' e. on the st they saw the _island-shoals_ of _pralas_, in lat. ° n. long. ° ' e. the st july they fell in with other islands, not laid down in any of their charts, which perplexed them sadly, not being able to form any certain judgment of their true course. they anchored under one of these islands in thirteen fathoms, and sent away one of their boats to endeavour to procure intelligence how macao bore from them, that being the port to which they were bound. the pinnace returned on the d july, bringing a boat in which were three chinese sailors, or fishermen, whom they could not understand, and all they could learn from them was, that canton bore from them to the s.w. on the d july, finding they had got too far to leeward of macao, and being unable to procure a pilot, they resolved to sail for _amoy_, as the only course that was left them, and accordingly arrived before that port in the evening of the th; but being afraid to enter it in the night, they plied off and on till daybreak of the th. they here noticed great numbers of snakes in the sea, brought down by the rivers that empty themselves upon that coast. the entrance into the port of _amoy_ is sufficiently conspicuous, in consequence of a high mountain, on the top of which is a tower, or pagoda, which may be seen at the distance of twenty leagues out to sea, and has a small island immediately before the mouth of the bay. the river _change-neu_[ ] discharges itself here into the sea, forming a spacious bay about eight leagues in circuit, where ships may ride at anchor in great safety, the only difficulty being in getting into port, which they happily accomplished in the evening of the th july, being well pleased to find themselves once more in a place where they might hope to procure refreshments, and be able to repair their ship; or if that were impracticable, whence they might procure a passage home. clipperton was as much rejoiced as the rest; for, having had his full share of afflictions and misfortunes at sea, he was happy in the prospect of securing a small sum of money for his own use, and sending home what belonged to the owners, if the ship were really past repairing, as his people reported. [footnote : no name resembling _amoy_ is to be found on the coast of china in any of our best maps, and the text gives no distinct indication of its situation. the river _changeneu_ of the text, perhaps refers to _tchang-tcheou_, a city in the province of fokien, having a large bay in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' e. and _amoy_ may have been some corruption of the port of discharge at the mouth of the river which passes tchang-tcheou.--e.] they had no sooner anchored in the port than ten custom-house officers were placed on board. at amoy, as in most other ports in china, the customs are under the direction of a single mandarin, called the hoppo, or hoppou. the chinese are justly reputed the craftiest people in the world; and it is their invariable maxim to appoint the cunningest man they can find to the office of hoppo. it may be added, that the people of amoy are reputed to be less nice in the principles of honour and honesty even than any others in china. the first thing demanded by these custom-house officers was, what the ship was, and what was her business at this port. clipperton made answer, that the ship belonged to the king of great britain, and had put in there from stress of weather, in order to obtain a supply of provisions and other necessaries. the officers now demanded an exact account of the number of men and guns, the nature and amount of the cargo, and the time they intended to stay, all of which they set down in writing, and then departed. next morning the men mutinied, and insisted that clipperton should pay them their prize-money immediately, as the success was in no condition to proceed to sea. the man who made this demand was one john dennison; and when mr taylor interposed in behalf of the captain, one edward boreman told him he had better desist, unless he had a mind to have a brace of bullets through his head. there was now an end of all regularity on board, the authority of the captain being completely overthrown. the country people supplied the ship with abundance of rice, with some cattle and fowls, together with wood and water, for which they were paid. on the th the officers went ashore to wait upon the hoppo, who had a fine palace. he treated them with great civility, giving them leave to anchor in the harbour, and to remain there till the adverse monsoon was over; but for this he demanded dollars as port-charges, equal to near £ sterling, and soon afterward received that sum in ready money. it may be remembered that mr mitchell went out from. england as second captain under clipperton. on his going to brazil, he was succeeded by mr davidson, who was slain in the unfortunate affair at guam; to whom mr cook succeeded as second captain. he now demanded to receive thirty shares of the prize-money in that capacity, in which he was supported by the men, whom he courted by a continual compliance with all their humours. captain clipperton and the rest of the officers, seeing the turn matters were likely to take, were very desirous that some allowance should be reserved for the officers who were absent, and had been taken prisoners, and for mr hendrie and mr dod, who had joined them from the speedwell: but all their endeavours were fruitless, as the men would not listen to any such allowances. while these disputes were going on, the men went ashore as they pleased, without asking leave; and when the captain endeavoured to correct this licence, the whole company stood out, and would not submit to controul. after this every thing fell into confusion, and the men refused to work till they should receive their prize-money. they even applied to the chief mandarin of the place, styled _hyhuug_ by the chinese, to interpose his authority for obliging their captain to comply with their demands. this magistrate then summoned captain clipperton to appear before him, and demanded to know the reason why he refused to give the men satisfaction; on which the captain produced the articles, which contained expressly that they were not to receive their prize-money till their return to london. but captain cook, as he was now styled, gave quite a different account of this matter to the mandarin; on which a guard of soldiers was sent aboard the success, with a peremptory order to captain clipperton immediately to settle the shares, and to pay them to the men, with which he was forced to comply. this distribution was accordingly made on the th september, pursuant to the order of the chief mandarin; and as no allowance was reserved for those who had been made prisoners, or for the representatives of those who had died, or the two gentlemen who formerly served in the speedwell, the prize-money stood thus: the share of money and silver plate, dollars the share of gold, the share of jewels, ----- total share of a foremast-man, which, at s. d. the dollar, amounted to £ : : sterling. according to this distribution: the share of the captain amounted to £ , s. the second captain had £ , s. the captain of marines, the lieutenants of the ship, and the surgeon, had each £ : : . although captain cook and his associates were thus able to carry their point, yet captain clipperton prevailed on the mandarin to set apart one half of the cargo for the benefit of the owners; which amounted, in money, silver, gold, and jewels, to between six and seven thousand pounds. this was afterwards shipped at macao in a portuguese ship, called the queen of angels, commanded by don francisco de la vero. this ship was unfortunately burnt at rio de janeiro, on the coast of brazil, on the th june, ; so that the owners, after deducting salvage, only received £ . the people and mandarins at amoy have so conducted themselves for a long time, that, even among their own countrymen, this port has the appellation of _hiamuin booz_, or amoy the roguish. the fishermen on the coast, when they meet any european ship that seems intended for that port, pronounce these words with a very significant air; but, for want of understanding the language, or perhaps from confidence in their own prudence, this warning is seldom attended to. the custom of this port is to disarm every ship that enters it, sending two frigates or armed vessels, called _chan-pans_, full of men, to ride close by the vessel, to ensure the execution of all orders from the _hoppo_ and chief mandarin. besides the enormous imposition under the name of port charges, already mentioned, they have other strange methods of getting money. thus, though the small craft of the country are at liberty to carry all sorts of provisions on board for sale, yet every one of these must in the first place go to one of the _chan-pans_, and pay there a tax or consideration for leave to go to the strange vessel. by this means, though provisions are here very plentiful, and ought therefore to be cheap, the price is enhanced at least a third. the mandarins have also a practice of sending presents of wine, provisions, and expensive curiosities, to the captain and other officers; of all which, when the ship is ready to sail, they send an exact memorial with the prices charged, the last article being so much for the clerk drawing up the account; and all this must be discharged in money or commodities, before their arms and ammunition are returned. during a stay of ten weeks at this port, they sufficiently experienced all the artifices of this covetous and fraudulent people, from whom captain clipperton had no way to defend himself, and was therefore obliged to submit to all their demands. towards the end of september, the season and their inclinations concurred to deliver them from this place; for by this time, even the common men began to be weary of the people, who shewed themselves finished cheats in every thing. on the th september, their arms and ammunition were restored, and that same day the success weighed from the harbour, going out into the road or gulf, in order to proceed for macao, to have the ship surveyed, as the men insisted she was not in a condition for the voyage home. captain clipperton affirmed the contrary, well knowing that the men insisted on this point merely to justify their own conduct, and to avoid being punished in england for their misbehaviour in china. they weighed anchor from the bay of amoy, in the province of _tonkin_,[ ] on the th september, and anchored in the road of _macao_ on the th october. this place had been an hundred and fifty years in the hands of the portuguese, and had formerly been one of the most considerable places of trade in all china, but has now fallen much into decay. the way in which the portuguese became possessed of this place gives a good specimen of chinese generosity. in prosecuting their trade with china from india and malacca, being often overtaken by storms, many of their ships had been cast away for want of a harbour, among the islands about macao, on which they requested to have some place of safety allowed them in which to winter. the chinese accordingly gave them this rocky island, then inhabited by robbers, whom they expelled. at first they were only allowed to build thatched cottages; but, by bribing the mandarins, they were permitted in the sequel to erect stone houses, and even to build forts. one of these, called _the fort of the bar_, is at the mouth of the harbour, and terminates at a rock called _appenka_, where there is a hermitage of the order of st augustine. there is another fort on the top of a hill, called the fort of the mountain; also another high fort, called _nuestra senhora de guia_. the city of macao stands on a peninsula, having a strong wall built across the isthmus, with a gate in the middle, through which the chinese pass out and in at pleasure, but it is death for a portuguese to pass that way. [footnote : this surely is an error for fo-kien. amoy has been before stated in the text as n.e. from macao, whereas the _kingdom_ of tonquin is s.w. from that port.--e.] some travellers have reported that the portuguese were sovereigns of macao, as of other places in india: but they never were, and the chinese are too wise a people to suffer any thing of the kind. macao certainly is as fine a city, and even finer, than could be expected, considering its untoward situation: it is also regularly and strongly fortified, having upwards of pieces of brass cannon upon its walls. yet, with all these, it can only defend itself against strangers. the chinese ever were, and ever will be, masters of macao, and that without firing a gun or striking a blow. they have only to shut up that gate and place a guard there, and macao is undone; and this they have actually done frequently. without receiving provisions from the adjacent country, the inhabitants of this city cannot subsist for a day; and besides, it is so surrounded by populous islands, and the chinese are here so completely masters of the sea, that the portuguese at macao might be completely starved on the slightest difference with the chinese. the portuguese have indeed the government over their own people within the walls of this city; yet macao is strictly and properly a chinese city: for there is a chinese governor resident on the spot, together with a hoppo or commissioner of the customs; and these chinese mandarins, with all their officers and servants, are maintained at the expence of the city, which has also to bear the charges of the portuguese government.[ ] [footnote : the east india company found all this to be true a few years ago, when its indian government thought to have taken macao from the portuguese. had this account of the matter been read and understood, they would not have unnecessarily incurred a vast expence, and suffered no small disgrace at canton.--e.] in spite of all this, the portuguese inhabitants were formerly very rich, owing to the great trade they carried on with japan, which is now in a great measure lost. yet, being so near canton, and allowed to frequent the two annual fairs at that place, and to make trading voyages at other times, they still find a way to subsist, and that is all, as the prodigious presents they have to make on all occasions to the chinese mandarins, consume the far greater part of their profits. each of their vessels, on going up to canton, has in the first place to pay £ sterling for leave to trade. they are next obliged to make a considerable present, for permission to have their goods brought on board by the chinese, to whom they must not only pay ready money for all they buy, but have sometimes to advance the price beforehand for a year. after all this, they have to make another present for leave to depart, at least double the amount of what they formerly paid for liberty to trade; and they have to pay heavy duties to the emperor for every thing they buy or sell, besides their enormous presents to his ministers. section iv. _residence of captain clipperton at macao, and returns from thence to england._ on entering the port of macao in the success, captain clipperton saluted the fortress, which compliment was returned. he then went on shore, where he prevailed on the captain of a portuguese ship of war, formerly mentioned, to carry the property belonging to his owners to brazil. at this place, the crew of the success found themselves considerably at a loss, as the portuguese commander declared himself entirely in favour of captain clipperton. captain cook, therefore, and another of the officers of the success, went up to canton, to consult with mr winder, supercargo of an english east indiaman, and son to one of the principal owners, as to what should be done with, the success. on their return, the ship was surveyed, condemned, and sold for dollars, which was much less than her worth. this was, however, no fault in captain clipperton, who, to shew that he still adhered to his former opinion, that the ship was fit to proceed to england, agreed with the persons who purchased her for a passage to batavia, a convincing proof that he did not believe her in any danger of foundering at sea. the ship being sold, the crew naturally considered themselves at liberty to shift for themselves, and to use their best endeavours each to save what little remained to him, after their unfortunate expedition. all were satisfied that captain mitchell, with his crew and cargo, had either gone to the bottom or fallen into the hands of the spaniards, so that they had no hopes of any farther dividend from that quarter; yet it was some consolation that they were so near the english factory at canton, and as six dollars were required for a passage to that place in one of the chinese boats, twenty of them agreed to go there immediately, in hopes of getting a passage from thence to england. mr taylor, one of the mates of the success, was of the number: but before the boat set sail, he had some presentiment of danger, and chose rather to lose his money, by waiting for another opportunity. he had reason to be satisfied with himself for this conduct; as he soon learnt that the boat tad been taken by a pirate, and the people stript of all their property. after a short stay at macao, mr taylor had an opportunity of going up to canton in an armed boat along with a mandarin, for which he and the rest of the crew belonging to the success, who went along with him, paid twenty dollars each. in their passage up, they had satisfactory proof that in some cases there may be frugality in expence, as they saw a pirate take a boat in sight of that in which was the mandarin. this plainly shewed that the government winks at these things, perhaps deeming it good policy to raise thereby a considerable revenue, partly by presents from the pirates, and partly by sums paid by merchants and passengers for protection. from this, and many other circumstances which might be adduced, the boasted wisdom of the chinese is nothing more than the science of dexterously hiding their robberies from the inspection of the law: in which, perhaps, they are as much exceeded by some northern nations as in the use of the compass, of which they pretend to be the original inventors, and perhaps with justice; but both in the management of the compass, and in this political trade of pirating, they are equally clumsy. mr taylor and his company arrived at the english factory in canton on the th november, where they were well received, and promised all assistance for getting home. there were at this time ships ready to sail, first for several ports in india and then for europe. the captains of these vessels, on being solicited by the gentlemen of the factory to take captain clipperton's men on board, agreed to carry them for five pounds a man, which they all accordingly paid, esteeming it a very great favour. mr taylor and two or three more embarked in the maurice, captain peacock, then riding at wanapo, [wampoa,] about three leagues below canton, the place where european ships lie; and the rest of the company were distributed among the other ships. they sailed on the th, in company with the macclesfield, an english east-indiaman, and the house-of-austria, belonging to ostend. mr taylor arrived safely at batavia in the month of december; sailed thence by the cape and st helena, and arrived in london in may . the rest of the company returned also, some sooner and some later. as for captain mitchell, who was sent to brazil with a small crew, he was never more heard of, having probably been destroyed at the island of velas, where he went ashore to procure fresh provisions. this has generally been considered as the greatest blemish in the management of captain clipperton, but i confess without just cause, in my opinion; as the great stress laid on that measure by captain rogers, might very well have induced captain clipperton to try what might be done in this way, especially as his owners had very strongly recommended the account of captain rogers to be his rule and guide. i also think the proposal in itself was very reasonable, and such as an officer who had the good of the expedition at heart had good grounds for trying. it was well known that the prize goods could produce little or nothing in the south sea, as the spanish governors demanded such exorbitant sums for liberty to trade, that no advantage could be derived from such a commerce, either in buying or selling. he knew also that it was to little purpose carrying these goods to europe; and it was certainly much preferable to send them to a place where they might sell to advantage, and where the produce might be so invested as to procure a considerable profit on the voyage from brazil to london. the vessel in which captain mitchell sailed was very fit for the purpose, and every way well provided; and having a crew of thirteen english and ten negroes, was quite sufficient for the navigation. captain clipperton sailed from macao to batavia, in his own ship the success, after she was sold; and got a passage to europe in a dutch ship. he arrived at galway in ireland, where he left his family, in june, ; being then in a very bad state of health, partly occasioned by his great fatigues, but chiefly through the concern he was under for the loss sustained by his owners in this unfortunate enterprize. it may be objected, that he ought to have returned from holland to england, to give his owners the best account in his power respecting the events of the voyage. but, as he sent home their moiety of the profits in the portugueze ship, which, had it not been destroyed by the way, had nearly covered the expence of fitting out the success, taking in the money she sold for; and if we consider the reduced state of his health when he went to galway, where he did not live above a week, he may well be excused for this step. chapter xii. voyage round the world by captain george shelvocke, in - .[ ] introduction. in the introduction to the former voyage, a sufficient account has been given of the motives on which the expedition was founded, and the original plan of acting under an imperial commission; together with motives for changing this plan, and the reason of advancing captain clipperton to the chief command. in the new scheme of the voyage, captain shelvocke retained the command of the speedwell, carrying twenty-four guns and men, mr simon hately being his second captain, an officer who has a good character given of him in the account of the former voyage by captain rogers. the marines were under the command of captain william betagh. captain shelvocke has himself written an account of the expedition, and another was published by captain betagh, so that the following narrative is composed from both. shelvocke's narrative is, strictly speaking, an apology for his own conduct, yet contains abundance of curious particulars, written in an entertaining style, and with an agreeable spirit; while the other is written with much acrimony, and contains heavy charges against captain shelvocke, yet contains many curious circumstances.--_harris_. [footnote : harris, i. . callender, iii. .] this is one of the best written voyages we have hitherto met with, yet extends rather to considerable length, considering its relative importance. on the present occasion, therefore, it has been endeavoured to lop off as many of its redundances as could be conveniently done without injury, yet leaving every circumstance of any interest or importance. the principal omission, or abbreviation rather, on the present occasion, is the leaving out several controversial matters, inserted by harris from the account of this voyage by betagh; which might have sufficient interest among contemporaries, a few years after the unfortunate issue of this misconducted enterprise, but are now of no importance, near a century later.--ed. section i. _narrative of the voyage from england to the south sea._ sailing from plymouth on the th february, , in company with the success, we kept company no longer than to the th, when, between nine and ten at night, we had a violent storm at s.w. which increased so, that by eleven we were under bare poles. at midnight a sea struck us on our quarter, which stove in one of our dead lights on the quarter and another on our stern, by which we shipped a vast quantity of water before we could get them again fastened up, and we were a considerable time under great apprehension of foundering. on the th we could not see the success; and this storm so terrified the greatest part of the crew, that seventy of them were resolved to bear away for england, alleging that the ship was so very crank she would never be able to carry us to the south sea. but by the resolution of the officers they were brought back to their duty. as the canaries were the first place of rendezvous, we continued our course for these islands, where we arrived on the th march, and cruised there the time appointed by our instructions.[ ] we next sailed for the cape de verde islands, and arrived at maio on the th april.[ ] a little before arriving here, turner stevens[ ] the gunner very gravely proposed to me and the rest of the officers to cruize in the red sea; as there could be no harm in robbing the mahometans, whereas the spaniards were good christians, and it was a sin to injure them. i ordered him immediately into confinement, after which he became outrageous, threatening to blow up the ship. wherefore i discharged him at his own request, and left also here on shore my chief mate, who had challenged and fought with mr brooks, my first lieutenant. [footnote : clipperton arrived there on the th, and sailed thence on the th of march.--e.] [footnote : clipperton came to st vincent on the th march, and cruized in that neighbourhood for ten days, so that he must have sailed about the st, at least a fortnight before the arrival of shelvocke.--e.] [footnote : called charles turner by betagh.--e.] on the th, we went to _port praya_, in the island of st jago, but finding nothing here but fair promises, i resolved to proceed to the island of st catharine on the coast of brazil, in lat. ° ' s.[ ] in hopes of obtaining every thing necessary for our passage into the south sea, as, according to the account of it by frezier, it abounds in all the necessaries of life, such especially as are requisite in long voyages. we sailed therefore from port praya on the th of april, and had a very bad passage, as we were twenty-one days before we could pass the equinoctial. white between the two tradewinds, we had usually slight breezes, varying all round the compass, and sometimes heavy squalls of wind, with thunder, lightning, and rain. in short, the most variable weather that can be conceived, insomuch that we were fifty-five days between st jago and st catharines. on the th june we made cape frio, bearing w. seven leagues off our lat. by observation, ° ' s.[ ] on the th we met and spoke a ship, to which i sent captain hately to enquire the news on the coast, and gave him money to buy tobacco, as the success had our stock on board. she was a portuguese from rio de janeiro bound to pernambuco, and had no tobacco; but hately had laid out my money in unnecessary trifles, alleging they would sell for double the money at the next port. [footnote : this island is in ° ' s.] [footnote : cape frio is in ° ' s.] [captain betagh gives a very different account of this matter, asserting that shelvocke hoisted imperial colours and made the portuguese ship bring to, on which hately went aboard with a boat's crew well armed, and put the portuguese captain in such a fright, that he not only sent all sorts of refreshments on board the speedwell, but a dozen pieces of silk flowered with gold and silver, worth about three pounds a yard, several dozens of china plates and basons, a japan cabinet, and three hundred moidores in gold; ninety-six of which were afterwards found on hately, when made prisoner by the spaniards, when he had nearly been put to death for piracy on their account.][ ] [footnote : it is almost unnecessary to point out, that this paragraph is an addition by harris to the narrative of shelvocke, extracted from the journal of betagh.--e.] we anchored at the island of st catharine on the d june, where the carpenter went ashore with a gang to fell trees, and saw them into planks. the captain and inhabitants of the island came off to us daily with fresh provisions, which saved our sea-stores while we lay here. i also bought twenty-one beeves, salted drom-fish of large size, and bushels of cassado meal, called by the portuguese _farina de fao_. this is about as fine as our oatmeal, and from it a very hearty food is prepared with little trouble. i also bought bushels of _calavances_, partly for money at a dollar the bushel, and partly in exchange for salt, measure for measure; and likewise provided a quantity of tobacco for the crew. the account given of this island by frezier is very exact, only that he takes no notice of an island between the island of _gall_ and the continent of brazil, nor of a reef of rocks. to arrive at the proper anchoring place at this island of st catharine, it is necessary to proceed in the channel between that island and the continent till within or near two small nameless islands, over against the northernmost of which is the watering place on the island of st catharine, near the entrance of a salt-water creek, opposite to which you may safely anchor in six or seven fathoms on fine grey sand. the isle of st catharine is about eight leagues and a half long, but no where exceeds two leagues broad; and at one place the channel between it and the continent is only a quarter of a mile broad. the island is covered all over with impassable woods, except where cleared for the plantations. even the smallest island about it is covered in like manner with a great variety of trees, between which the ground is entirely covered with thorns and brambles, which hinder all access; and the main land of brazil may be justly termed a vast continued wilderness. sassafras, so much valued in europe, is so common here that we laid in a good quantity for fuel. it has great abundance of oranges, both china and seville, lemons, citrons, limes, bananas, cabbage-palms, melons of all sorts, and potatoes. it has also very large and good sugar-canes, of which they make little use for want of utensils, so that the little sugar, molasses and rum they have is very dear. they have very little game, though the woods are full of parrots, which are good eating. these birds always fly in pairs, though often several hundreds in a flock. maccaos, cockatoes, plovers, and a variety of other birds of curious colours and various shapes, are to be seen in abundance; particularly one somewhat larger than a thrush, having a spur on the joint of each wing. flamingoes are often seen here in great numbers, of a fine scarlet colour, and appear very beautiful while flying. this bird is about the size of a heron, and not unlike it in shape. the fishery is here abundant, as fish of several excellent sorts are in great plenty, and there is the best convenience almost everywhere for hauling the seine. all the creeks and bays are well stocked with mullets, large rays, grantors, cavallies, and drum-fish, so named from the noise they make when followed into shallow water, and there taken. some of them weigh twenty or thirty pounds each, their scales being as large as crown pieces. the portuguese call them _moroes_. the salt-water creek formerly mentioned may be gone up three or four miles, to be near the watering-place; and every rock or stone, even the roots of the mangrove trees, afford a delicious small green oyster. likewise on the rocks at the sea-side there are _sea-eggs_, which resemble _dock-burrs_, but usually three or four times as large, of a sea-green or purple colour. in the inside they are divided into partitions, like oranges, each cell containing a yellow substance, which is eaten raw, and exceeds, in my opinion, all the shell-fish i ever tasted. they have prawns of extraordinary size, and we sometimes caught the _sea-horse_ in our nets. on the savannahs of areziliba, on the continent opposite the southern end of st catharine, they have great numbers of black cattle, some of which we had from thence at a very reasonable price. the portuguese on this island are a parcel of banditti, who have taken refuge here from the more strictly governed parts of brazil. emanuel mansa, who was captain of the island in the time of frezier, was still their chief. they enjoy the blessings of a fertile country and wholesome air, and stand in need of nothing from other countries except clothing. they have fire-arms sufficient for their use, and have often need of them, being greatly infected with tigers; for which reason every house has many dogs to destroy these ravenous animals, which yet often make great havock. i have been told that a tiger has killed eight or ten dogs in a night: but when any make their appearance in the day, they seldom escape, as the inhabitants are fond of the diversion of hunting them. these animals are so numerous, that it is quite common to see the prints of their paws on the sandy beach. we could not see any of the fine dwelling-houses mentioned by frezier; neither have they any place that can be called a town, nor any kind of fortification, except the woods, which are a secure retreat from any enemy that may attack them. i cannot say much about the indians of those parts, as i never saw above two or three of them. on the d july we saw a large ship at anchor, under parrots island, about five miles from where we lay. after securing the watering-place, and what we had there ashore, i sent the launch, well manned and armed, under a lieutenant, to see what she was. the launch returned about noon, reporting that she was the _ruby_, formerly an english man-of-war, but now one of the squadron under martinet, and commanded by mons. la jonqniere. she was in, the spanish service, but most of her officers and crew were french, to the number of about . yet they had no intention to molest us, having quitted the south sea on report of a rupture between france and spain. m. la jonquiere was a man of strict honour, and sent me intimation of his good intentions, with an invitation to dinner, which i accepted, and was well entertained. about this time i heard that hately had plundered the portuguese ship, formerly mentioned, of moidores, and had distributed part of the money among the boat's crew, to engage them to secrecy. i examined into this as strictly as possible, intending, if found guilty, to have delivered him up to the captain of st catharine's, but i could not get sufficient proof. this man also committed so many vile actions in the island of st catharine, that oar people were often in the utmost danger, from the resentment of the portuguese; which bad conduct i could neither prevent nor punish, as he had become a great favourite with my mutinous crew. m. la jonquiere, with several of his officers and passengers, came on board the speedwell to dine with me, on the th july. while they were on board, hudson my boatswain raised a mutiny, which was easily quelled by the assistance of the french gentlemen: but the boatswain was sent home in the french ship. on the th july, we saw a large ship bearing in for the harbour; but on discovering us, she turned out again. this circumstance alarmed m. la jonquiere, suspecting she might be our consort, so that he put to sea next morning. the large ship appeared again on the th under french colours, being the solomon of st malo of forty guns and men, commanded by m. dumain girard, bound for peru and chili. at this time great heart-burnings arose in my crew: for, having heard that the people on board the duke and duchess had been indifferently treated in regard to their prize-money when they got home, they resolved to secure themselves in time. with this view, and by the advice of matthew stewart, chief-mate, they drew up a paper of articles respecting plunder, and sent me a letter insisting on these articles being made the rule of our voyage; to which at last i was obliged to agree, rather than suffer them to proceed in a piratical manner. on the d august the st francisco zavier came into the harbour, a portuguese man of war of forty guns and men, bound from lisbon for macao in china, commanded by mons. riviere, a frenchman. we departed from the island of st catharine on the th august. its northern point being in lat. ° ' s. and long. ° w. from the lizard.[ ] i kept the lead constantly sounding all along the coast of patagonia, and had regular soundings. from the lat. of ° to ° ' both s. we frequently saw great shoals of seals and penguins, which were always attended by flocks of pintadoes, birds about the size of pigeons. the french call these birds _damiers_, as their black and white feathers on their back and wings are disposed like the squares of a draught-board. these were also attended by albatrosses, the largest of all sea-fowl, some of them extending their wings twelve or thirteen feet from tip to tip. while passing the mouth of the rio. plata, the sea was covered with prodigious quantities of large seaweed, which often greatly incommoded us and deadened our way. on getting farther south we were freed from this inconvenience; after which we saw abundance of things floating on the surface of the sea, like white snakes. we took some of these up, but could not perceive them to have any appearance of life, neither had they the shape of any kind of animal, being only a long cylinder of a white jelly-like substance, perhaps the spawn of some large fish. [footnote : only ° s. and ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] as we advanced to the southward, the appetites of our people increased with the cold, which occasioned disputes in the ship. even at my own table, captain betagh of the marines insisted on a larger allowance in such coarse terms, that i confined him till he wrote me a submissive letter, on which i restored him. but this squabble constrained me to allow an extraordinary meal to the people daily, either of flour or calavances; which reduced our stock of provisions, and consumed our wood and water, proving afterwards of great inconvenience. whales, grampuses, and other fish of monstrous size, are in such vast numbers on the coast of patagonia, that they were often offensive to us, coming so close to us that it seemed impossible to avoid striking them on every scud of a sea, and almost stifling us with the stench of their breaths, when they blew close to windward. being ignorant of the greenland fishery, i cannot pretend to say whether that trade might not be carried on here; but this i may venture to affirm, that the navigation here is safer, and i am apt to believe it has a greater chance of being successful.[ ] [footnote : this southern whale-fishery is now carried on to a considerable extent.--e.] on the th september, about midnight, perceiving the water all at once to be discoloured, we sounded, and had fathoms, on which we stood out from the land, but did not deepen our water in five leagues. this bank must lie very near the entrance into the straits of magellan. on this bank we saw great numbers of blubbers, appearing like the tops of umbrellas, curiously streaked with all sorts of colours, being an entirely different species from any i had ever seen before. we now steered for the straits of _le maire_, and met with very foggy weather on approaching the coast of _terra del fuego_. the fog cleared up on the d september, when we had sight of stupendous mountains on that southern land, entirely covered with snow. the nearest point of land was at least eight leagues from us, in the s.w. but before we could ascertain our situation the mist returned. at four next morning, proceeding under easy sail to the s.e. it proved very clear at day-break, and i found we had fallen in with the land about five leagues n.w. from the straits of le maire. we had now a full, but melancholy prospect of the most desolate country that can well be conceived, appearing a congeries of chains of mountains in succession, one behind the other, perpetually cloathed in snow. hitherto we had not been sensible of any current, either favourable or adverse, after getting to the south of the rio plata. but this afternoon we were hurried with incredible rapidity into the straits of le maire; and when we had gained about the middle of the passage, the tide slackened. on sounding we had twenty-seven fathoms on a rocky bottom. we had a dear view of _staten-land_, which yields a most uncomfortable prospect of a surprising height, quite covered with snow to the very wash of the sea, so that it seems more like a white cloud than firm land. these straits seemed to answer well to the map of frezier; being about seven leagues through and six wide, and extend almost due north and south. now the return tide rushed upon us with a violence equal to that which brought us in, and it was astonishing with what rapidity we were driven again to the north, though we had a fresh gale at n.w. so that we seemed to advance six knots by the log; whence i judged this tide ran not less than ten knots. in short, we were carried quite out of the straits to the north in about an hour. upon this shift of tide there arose such a short sea, and so lofty at the same time, that we alternately dipped our bowsprit and poop-lanterns into the water; our ship all the while labouring most violently, and refusing to answer the helm. the tide shifted again at midnight, and we shot through the straits, steering s. with a brisk gale at n.w. without seeing the land distinctly on either side: and, in the morning, had a good offing to the southward. we found it very cold before we got thus far; but now we began to feel the utmost extremity of coldness. the bleak western winds had of themselves been sufficiently piercing; but these were always accompanied by snow or sleet, which beat continually on our sails and rigging, cased all our masts, yards, and ropes with ice, and rendered our sails almost useless. we had been so much accustomed to most severe storms, that we thought the weather tolerable when we could carry a reefed main-sail; as we were often for two or three days together lying-to under bare poles, exposed to the shocks of prodigious waves, more mountainous than any i had ever seen. we now sensibly felt the benefit of our awning, without which we could scarcely have lived. the wind continued to rage without intermission from the westward, by which we were driven to the latitude of ° ' s. and had such continued misty weather, that we were under perpetual apprehension of running foul of ice islands: but, thank god, we escaped that danger, though under frequent alarms from fog banks and other false appearances. though the days were long, we could seldom get sight of the sun, so that we had only one observation for the variation in all this passage, which was in lat. ° ' s. ° w. of the straits of le maire, when we found it ° ' e. on the st october, as we were furling the main-sail, one william camell, cried out that his hands and fingers were so benumbed that he could not hold himself: and, before those near could assist him, he fell down and was drowned. on the d october, our fore-top-mast was carried away, and we rigged another next day. having contrary winds from the time we passed the straits of le maire, with the most uncomfortable weather, we made our way very slowly to the west and northwards, the hopes of getting soon into a wanner and better climate supporting us under our many miseries. section ii. _proceedings in the south sea, till ship-wrecked on the island of juan fernandez._ at length, on the th november at noon, our spirits were cheared by seeing the coast of chili; yet here we found ourselves under very great difficulties. our tedious passage and extraordinary consumption of provisions, had so reduced our wood and water, and even our food, that it was necessary to repair to some place where our wants might be supplied; but it was difficult to resolve where that might be done. we first tried narborough island, but finding the road unsafe, sailed for the mouth of st domingo river on the continent, where we had twenty-eight fathoms, shoaling as we advanced from eighteen to less than five as fast as a man could heave the lead. finding this place too hazardous, we stood out to sea, and were blown farther north than we designed. being greatly at a loss where to procure wood and water, one joseph de la fontaine, a frenchman, proposed going to the island of chiloe, assuring us that the towns of _chaiao_ and _calibuco_, the former on the island and the latter on the continent, were rich places, where we could not fail of procuring whatever we wanted. cliacao was, he said, the usual residence of the governor, and at calibuco was a wealthy college of jesuits, having considerable magazines, always well stocked with provisions of all kinds. this person at the same time insinuated among the people, that our expedition would probably turn out unfortunate, if we passed this place, as captain clipperton must by this time have alarmed the coast, in consequence of which there would be an embargo on all ships trading to leeward. my chief inducement for making an attempt on chiloe was to procure such additional supply of provisions, as might enable us, in case the coast were already alarmed, to retire to some unfrequented island, to remain till the spaniards should suppose we had abandoned the south sea; after which we could resume our cruize, when they were under no apprehensions of being molested. accordingly, on the th november, we entered the channel which divides the island of chiloe from the main land of chili, and stood in for the harbour of chacao under french colours, intending to have attacked the towns of chacao and calibuco by surprise. our pilot, however, seemed as much a stranger to the navigation here as i was, and as the wind began to blow fresh with thick weather, i came to anchor in thirteen fathoms, at ten in the morning, between the point of _carelampo_ and the small island of pedro nunez. soon after coming to anchor, the tide made outwards with prodigious rapidity, and the wind increased greatly, between which the sea became very boisterous, all the channel in which we lay appearing one continued breach or surf. our ship consequently made a vast strain on her cable, which parted at two in the afternoon, and we could have no hopes to recover our anchor, as the buoy had been staved and sunk about an hour before we were thus set adrift. i did not think it adviseable to risk another anchor, and therefore immediately crossed over for the island of chiloe, in a boisterous gale with thick rainy weather, surrounded on all hands with seeming shoals, and in a manner bewildered in an unknown navigation. when within a mile of chiloe, we ranged along shore to the southward,[ ] in hope of discovering the town of chacao. we passed two commodious bays, which had no appearance of any town, and came to a point of land marked by a high pyramidal rock. after getting round this point, we found ourselves entirely out of the tideway, and quite sheltered from all other inconveniences, and came therefore to anchor opposite a cross on the north side of the harbour, having just sufficient day-light to enable us to get into this place of shelter. [footnote : the direction was more probably to the eastward--e.] next morning, i sent the second lieutenant, in the pinnace well manned and armed, to look out for the two towns; and sent at the same time mr hately in the launch, to endeavour to find a watering-place. he soon returned, accompanied by an indian, who had shewn him a very convenient place where we could at once procure both wood and water, even under the command of our guns from the ship, and free from all danger of being surprised. i accordingly sent back the launch with casks to be filled, and several people to cut wood, all well armed, together with an officer of marines and ten men to keep guard. the indians gave us hopes of a sufficient supply of provisions; but came in the evening to our people who were on shore, to acquaint them that the natives were forbidden to bring any thing to us. as the pinnace had not yet returned, this information gave me much concern, fearing that the enemy had taken her, and had by that means learnt what we were. on the d december, about seven in the evening, a spanish officer came to us, in a boat rowed by eight indians, being sent by the governor of chiloe to enquire what we were. meaning to pass upon him for a french captain well known in these seas, i ordered none of my people to appear on deck but such as could speak french or spanish, and hoisted french colours. when the officer came on board, i told him my ship was the st rose, homeward-bound, that my name was _janis le breton_, and that i entreated the governor to spare me what provisions he could conveniently afford, that being my only business on the coast. the officer heard me with much civility, seeming to give implicit credit to all i said; even staid on board all night, and went away next morning, to all appearance well satisfied. on the th in the morning, two boats came towards us full of armed men; but, after taking a view of us, went to a small island in the mouth of the harbour. on the th we saw a white flag hoisted on shore, to which i sent my launch completely manned and armed, but they found no person near the flag, to the shaft of which a letter was fastened, and a dozen hams lying close by. the letter was from _don nicholas salvo_, governor of chiloe, intimating strong doubts of our ship being the st rose, complaining of the behaviour of the people in our pinnace, and desiring me to leave the coast. i returned an answer in as proper terms as i could devise, and next morning had another letter, couched in the utmost civility, but absolutely refusing me any refreshments, and demanding the restitution of the indians said to have been made prisoners by our pinnace. in fact i knew less of our pinnace than he did, and believed that he actually had the people in his hands of whom he now complained. despairing of ever seeing my people, and still ignorant where chacao was situated, having no chart of the island on which i could depend, i determined to change my style of writing to the governor, and try what could be done by threatening to use force. i therefore wrote, that i was determined to have provisions by fair means or foul. next day i sent my first lieutenant, mr brooks, with twenty-nine men well armed in the launch, ordering him to bring off all the provisions he could find. shortly after, a boat came with a message from the governor, offering to treat with me, if i would send an officer to chacao: but i answered, that i would treat no where but on board, and that he was now too late, as i had already sent eighty men on shore to take all they could find. in the evening the launch returned, accompanied by a large piragua, and both were completely laden with sheep, hogs, fowls, barley, and green peas and beans. soon afterwards, the pinnace arrived with all her crew, but so terrified that i did not expect them to be again fit for service for one while. the officer told me, that he had been forced to fight his way through several canoes, filled with armed indians, from whom he got clear with the utmost difficulty, and had been under the necessity of making his passage quite round the island, a course of not less than seventy leagues.[ ] this proceeded only from excess of terror, as they only met one boat with unarmed indians and a spanish sergeant, who came off to them without the least shew of violence, as some of them afterwards confessed, but with this addition, that there were great numbers of people on shore, who they were apprehensive would come off to them. the only excuse the officer could allege was, that the tide had hurried him away, and he forgot in his fright that he had a grappling in the boat, with which he might have anchored till the tide turned. [footnote : the circuit of the island of chiloe by sea, could hardly be less than english miles; an arduous navigation in an open boat upon an utterly unknown coast.--e.] by this strange mismanagement, i missed a favourable opportunity of seizing the town of chacao, which i might easily have done if i had appeared before it within forty-eight hours after our arrival, when the governor was totally unprovided for resistance. but now, having a whole week allowed for mustering the force of the island, he had collected near a thousand armed spaniards, as i learnt from the indian prisoners in the pinnace. i therefore laid aside all thoughts of going to the towns, in the hopes of furnishing ourselves from the indian farms and plantations, in which i kept one of our boats constantly employed. by the th, our decks were full of live cattle, together with poultry and hams in abundance, and such quantities of wheat, barley, potatoes, and maize, that i was quite satisfied. on a moderate computation, we had added four months provisions to the stock we brought from england, so that i was well pleased with the effects of our stay at chiloe, and prepared to depart. i might certainly have done much more for my own credit and the profit of my owners, had if not been for the mismanagement of the officer in the pinnace. _chiloe_ is the first of the spanish possessions on the coast of chili, reckoning from the south; and, though it produces neither gold nor silver, is a fine island, and is considered as of great consequence; insomuch that the spaniards would be under great apprehensions when strange ships enter its ports, did they not confide in the number of its inhabitants, which is extraordinary for this part of the world. the body of this island is in lat. ° ' s. being about thirty leagues in length from n. to s. and not above six or seven leagues from e. to w.[ ] it is watered by several rivers, and produces many kinds of useful trees, yielding an agreeable prospect, by the great number of indian farms and plantations dispersed at small distances from each other, on rising grounds among the woods. within this great island there is an archipelago or cluster of smaller islands, the number of which is not well known; yet the smallest of these is said to be well inhabited, and to abound in cattle. among these islands there are very uncertain and violent currents, which are by no means safe. i would recommend all strangers to go in at the north end of the great island, giving the northern point of the island a good birth, and then to keep the island side of the channel on board, running along shore to the southward (eastward). passing two bays, which seem commodious, you come to a point, almost contiguous to which is a high rock, somewhat like a pyramid; and passing between that rock and a small high island near it, you run directly into a harbour resembling the mouth of a river, which forms a safe anchorage. in going in, take care not to come nearer shore than having the depth of five fathoms, as the nearer to the small island the less water; wherefore keep the lead going, and be bold with the shore towards the north side of the harbour, which has the greatest depth, while the south side is shoaly.[ ] [footnote : chiloe reaches from lat. ° ' to ° ', both s. and from long. ° ' to ° ', both w. extending english miles in extreme length, by in medium breadth. see vol. v. p. , for an account of the archipelago of chiloe.--e.] [footnote : shelvocke seems here to describe the harbour leading to the town or village of san carlos.--e.] my pilot carried me the contrary way to that here directed, advising me to keep near the main land of chili, which i did till i got to _carelampo_ point, having several small islands to the southward of my course, which proved unfortunate for me by the loss of my anchor. the soil of chiloe is very fertile, producing all sorts of european fruits and grains, and has fine pasture lands, in which great numbers of cattle are grazed, particularly sheep. the air is wholesome and temperate; yet i suspect the winter may be rigorous, being bounded on the west by an immense ocean, without any land to screen it from the cold moist vapours brought thither by the tempestuous westerly winds, which generally reign in these latitudes, and which must render it uncomfortable in the winter months, as the parallels of latitude to the south of the equator are much colder than those in the same degrees to the northwards. in this island they have abundance of very handsome middle-sized horses, which the natives are said to manage with great dexterity. they have also an animal, called _guanaco_ or _carneso de tierra_, that is, sheep of the country, which very much resembles a camel, but not nearly so large. they have long necks, and i have seen one of them between five and six feet high. their wool or soft hair is very fine. they smell very rank, and move with a very slow majestic pace, which hardly any violence can make them quicken; yet they are of great service at the mines in peru, where they are employed in carrying the ore and other things. their flesh is very coarse, as we experienced, having salted some of them for our future use. besides these, the inhabitants have european sheep and great numbers of hogs, but not many black cattle. the island has plenty of fowls, both wild and tame. among the former is a small species of goose, found on the banks of the rivers, which are beautifully white, and of an excellent taste. the tame poultry are of the same kinds with our own. the natives are almost in all respects the same with those on the continent of chili, of moderate stature, with deep olive complexions, and coarse shaggy black hair, some of them having by no means disagreeable features. they seem naturally of fierce and warlike dispositions; but the oppressions of the spaniards, and the artifices of the jesuits, who are the missionaries in these parts, have curbed and broken their spirits. frezier says, that the indians on the continent, to the southward of this island, are called _chonos_, who go quite naked; and that there is a race of men of extraordinary size in the inland parts of the country, called _cacahues_,[ ] who are in amity with the _chonos_, and sometimes accompany them to the spanish settlements in chiloe. frezier says, that he has been credibly informed by eye-witnesses, that some of these were about nine or ten feet high. i had sight of two of these indians, who came from the southward of st domingo river, one of whom was a cacique, who did not seem to me to differ in their persons from the ordinary natives of chiloe. they were decently clothed in _ponchos, monteras_, and _poulains_. the _poncho_ is a sort of square carpet, having a slit or hole cut in the middle, wide enough to slip over the head, so that it hangs down over the shoulders, half before and half behind, under which they generally wear a short doublet. on their heads they have a _montera_, or cap nearly like those of our postillions, and their legs are covered by the _poulains_, a kind of knit buskins, or hose without feet. in short, their appearance has little or none of the savage. their habitations are firmly built of planks, but have no chimneys, so that they are very black and sooty within. [footnote : see an account of the native tribes, inhabiting the southern extremity of south america, vol. v. p. .] they inclose some of their land for cultivation, by means of rails or paling; and although they have plenty of every thing necessary to a comfortable subsistence, they have no bread, from wanting mills in which to grind and prepare their wheat they use a miserable substitute, making a kind of cakes of sea-weeds, which from use is much esteemed by them, and was not even disliked by some of our men. besides this, they prepare their maize in several manners to answer the purpose of bread, and they use potatoes and other roots with the same intention. they prepare a liquor called _chicha_ from their indian corn, in imitation of their neighbours on the continent of chili; but the spaniards endeavor to curb their propensity to the use of this liquor, as their drinking bouts have often occasioned seditions and revolts. such of the natives as have no european weapons, use pikes, darts, and other arms of the country. among these is a running noose on a long leathern thong, called a _lays_, which they use with surprising dexterity for catching cattle, horses, or other animals, even when at full career. from all that i could see of the natives of chiloe, or hear respecting the chilese, they seem to resemble each other in all things, which is not wonderful, considering the near neighbourhood of this island to the continent of chili. they use small drums, the heads of which are made of goats skins with the hair on, and give a very dull sound. the natives of chiloe carry on a small woollen manufacture, consisting of _ponchoes_ and other articles of clothing, formerly mentioned. they also export considerable quantities of cedar, both in plank, and wrought up into boxes, chests, desks, and the like, with which they supply all chili and peru. they have no european trade; but the spaniard who came to me from the governor expressed his astonishment that no trading ships ever put in there, saying they had plenty of money among them, with a safe port, free from the danger of going to the northward among the spanish ships of war; as a great deal of business might be done here, before intelligence could be sent as far as lima, and the ships could be fitted out and sent so great a way to wind-ward. it is observed of the chilese, that, differing from all other nations ever heard of, they have no notion of a supreme being, and consequently have no kind of worship; and they are such enemies to civil society that they never live together in towns and villages, so that their country seems thinly inhabited, though very populous, the whole nation being dispersed in farms at a good distance, every family having its own plantation, and raising its own necessaries. though thus scattered, they are not wholly independent, each tribe being subject to a chief, called a cacique, whose dwelling is conveniently situated among them, for the more speedy summoning them together on affairs of importance. this is done by the sound of a sort of horn, on hearing which all his vassals repair to him without delay. the chief commands them in war, and has an absolute power of dispensing justice among his subjects, who all consider themselves as his relations, he being as it were the head of his family, and his authority hereditary. in all these respects the inhabitants of chiloe resemble their neighbours on the continent, excepting that their caciques are stript in a great measure of their power and influence, by the tyranny of the spaniards, who keep them under the most servile slavery, while the missionaries blind them by a superstitious and imperfect conversion to christianity, of which not one of these natives know any thing more than merely that they were baptized; all their devotion consisting of mere idolatry of the cross, or the images of saints; for the spanish clergy use no manner of pains to enlighten their minds, but probably think it better, by keeping them in ignorance, to make them more contented under the rigorous government of the spaniards. under this delusion, the caciques have changed their lawful prerogatives for the vain ostentation of being allowed to wear a silver-headed cane, which places them on a footing outwardly with a spanish captain. yet have they sometimes rebelled against their proud oppressors, deeming death preferable to slavery, as may be seen in the account of frezier's voyage. the vessels used in chiloe are peculiarly constructed, as, for want of nails and other articles of iron, the planks of which their boats are constructed are sewed together very ingeniously with oziers. these boats are all constructed of three pieces only, the keel or bottom being one piece, and the sides two others; and they are rowed with oars, in the same manner as with us, more or fewer according to their size. having nothing farther to detain us in chiloe, i determined upon proceeding to the island of juan fernandez, as directed in my instructions; but my men took it into their heads that great things might be done by a short trip to the bay of conception, to which also they were induced by the frenchman who persuaded us to come to chiloe. he pretended that there were always five or six ships in the road of conception, besides others daily coming in or going out, and that these had often both ways considerable sums of money or silver, with other valuable things, on board; and, though large ships, they were of little or no force, neither were there any fortifications at that place to protect them; so that we could not meet any opposition in taking them, even if there were twenty sail. he said their, cargoes consisted chiefly of corn, wine, brandy, flour, and jerked beef; and that the ships bound for conception always brought money to purchase their cargoes; besides that considerable booty might be made for rich trading passengers, who carry on a considerable trade over land between conception and buenos ayres. he also alleged, that we could not fail of having any ships we might take ransomed; and that we should certainly make our fortunes, if we could only reach conception before they had notice of our being in these seas. this man therefore advised my people to endeavour to prevail on me to make the best of my way to conception, before the governor of chiloe could send our deserter thither; after which all the coast would be alarmed, and we should have no opportunity of meeting with any thing till the spaniards had imagined we were gone from the south sea. in similar cases, all are fond of delivering their sentiments; and, as it is impossible to keep a ship's company in so much awe in so remote a part as in short voyages, my men did not fail to speak their minds somewhat insolently. one william morphew, who had been in these seas several years, took upon him to tell me, that it did not signify much if we arrived two or three days sooner or later at juan fernandez. he said also, that i was a stranger here, but the frenchman and he were well acquainted with these seas, and every body hoped i would be advised to go to conception; hoping i would not put a mere punctilious adherence to orders in balance against so fair a prospect, or almost certainty of success, if we arrived there in time. in short, they all assured me that they had the interest of the proprietors in view, as much as their own, and that they would perish sooner than injure them in any respect. they said at the same time, if i had not success in my proceedings nobody could be blamed but myself, and entreated me not to let slip this opportunity, in which they would stand by me with all fidelity. on our way to conception, we made the islands of mocha and st mary on the d december, and arrived that same evening in the bay of conception, but could not be certain whether there were any ships in the road. i immediately gave orders to man and arm our boats and sent them up that same night, in order to surprise any ships that might be there; and with strict orders, if they found them too strong, to endeavour to prevent them from sending any thing on shore till i were able to work the ship up to them. this i endeavoured to do all night, but to very little purpose; for at day-light next morning i could not discern any thing above us. captain hately returned about noon of the th, informing me that he had taken a ship of about tons, lately arrived from baldivia, and having only a few cedar plants on board, with no person in her but the boatswain, an old negro, and two indian boys. he had left her in the charge of mr brooks, my first lieutenant, with orders to bring her down the first opportunity; and had taken, while on his return, a small vessel, of about twenty-five tons, near the island _quiri-quinie_, which lies in the harbour or bay of conception, where this small vessel had been taking in pears, cherries, and other fruits, to sell at conception. immediately after taking this small vessel, i could perceive with my glass another small boat come in between the islands of _quiri-quinie_ and _talgaguana_, passing within pistol-shot of my pinnace, and yet captain hately did not engage her. for this his only excuse, after he came on board, was, that he did not mind her; though our boat's crew said she was full of men. on the th about noon, mr brooks brought down the prize, and anchored about half a mile short of us. the boatswain of this prize had not been two hours in the speed-well, till he told us of a vessel, laden with wine, brandy, and other valuable things, riding at anchor in the bay of herradura, about two leagues to the north of us, and bound for chiloe. on receiving this information, i ordered mr randal, my second lieutenant, with twenty five men, to go in the mercury, which name we gave to the captured flour bark, and, accompanied by the spanish boatswain of the other prize, to go in search of the vessel in the bay of herradura, with positive orders not to land or to make any other hazardous attempt. but they returned next evening with the following melancholy story. on getting into the bay, they found the vessel hauled dry ashore, when randal ordered his people to land and bring away what they could find in her, while he and three or four more kept the bark afloat. the people found the bark empty, but seeing a small house hard by, they suspected her cargo might be lodged there, and the inferior officer along with them ordered them to examine that house. the poor fellows went accordingly, without any officer at their head, and without any regard to order, every one endeavouring to be foremost. their career was soon stopped, as they had hardly got beyond the top of the bank when they discovered the enemy coming furiously towards them. some of the seamen were of opinion they might have retreated at this time in safety, if they had not been astonished at the strange manner in which they were attacked, by a number of horses galloping up to them without riders, which caused them for some time to stand amazed, not knowing what way to proceed; but on a little reflection they bestirred themselves to make the best of their way to the mercury, in which they all succeeded except five, who were made prisoners. fortunately for them, the mercury had by some accident got aground, or they must all have been cut off, as the spaniards thought fit to retire on getting within musket-shot of the mercury. they now got the bark afloat, but as the water was still very low, and they were obliged in going out of the bay to keep very near to a point of land, the spaniards galled them from that point, under the shelter of the wood. they soon passed this point, having a fair wind, all lying close in the bottom of the bark, so that on this occasion only one man was wounded, who was shot through the thigh. the spaniards came down upon them in this affair after the following singular manner. they were preceded by twenty or more horses abreast, two deep, and linked together, behind which extraordinary van-guard came the enemy on horseback, lying on the necks of their horses, and driving the others before them, never seen to sit up on their saddles, except to fire their muskets, or when there was no danger. when they got near our people, they threw their _lays_ or running nooses to catch them, and accordingly ensnared james daniel, one of my foremast-men, who was a good way into the water, and whom they dragged out again at the rate of ten knots. the spaniards in chili are universally dexterous in the use of this running noose, for i have seen a spaniard bring a man up by the foot as he ran along the deck, and they are sure of any thing they fling at, at the distance of several fathoms. these misfortunes and disappointments made my crew extremely uneasy, and might have had bad consequences, if we had not been agreeably surprised by seeing a large ship coming round the northern point of the island of _quiri-quinie_.[ ] it was at this time almost dark, so that her people could not perceive what we were, and stood on therefore without fear, so that she came towards us, and was taken without resistance. this ship proved to be the st fermin, of about tons, last from _cadaco_,[ ] having only a small cargo, consisting of sugar, molasses, rice, coarse french linen, some woollen cloth and bays of quito, a small quantity of chocolate, and about five or six thousand dollars in money and wrought plate. i sent mr hendric, the owners agent, to inspect her cargo, and to order every thing of value out of her into the speedwell, and the ship's company sent their agent likewise. they returned in the afternoon, bringing all the bales, boxes, chests, portmanteaus, and other packages, with a large quantity of sugar, molasses, and chocolate, and about seventy hundred weight of good rusk, with all her other stores and eatables. don francisco larragan, the captain of this ship, begged to be allowed to ransom her, which i willingly consented to, and allowed him to go in his own launch to conception to raise the money, accompanied by a merchant, one of the prisoners. [footnote : a small island in the entrance of the bay of conception.--e.] [footnote : callao, or the port of lima, is perhaps here meant.--e.] in the mean time we were very busy in searching the prize, lest any thing might have been concealed; and every one who came at any time from the st fermin was strictly searched by some of our people appointed for the purpose, that they might not appropriate any thing of value. our carpenter also was employed in making a slight spar-deck over the mercury, as she might be of great use while cruizing along the coast. on the th december a boat came off to us with a flag of truce from the governor of conception, and an officer, who acquainted us that two of our people, taken in the late skirmish, were still alive, but very much wounded. he brought also a present of seven jars of very good wine, and a letter from don gabriel cano, the governor, in which he demanded to see my commission, as also that i should send ashore joseph de la fontaine, who had been servant to one of the mates belonging to captain la jonquiere, and some other things that i thought unreasonable, engaging to enter into a treaty, if i would comply with these requisitions. at length a formal treaty was begun, in which i demanded , dollars for the ransom of the st fermin alone, while they offered only , for both the ships and the bark. finding all his spanish _puncto_ tended only to entrap us, i set fire to the solidad, one of our prizes; and, giving them time to comply with my proposals it they would, i set the st fermin also on fire. we sailed from the bay of conception on the th january, , intending for juan fernandez; and on the th we observed the sea to be entirely of a red colour, occasioned, as the spaniards say, by the spawn of the _camarones_, or pracous. on the th, the plunder taken in the st fermin was sold by the ship's agent at the mart, and brought extravagant prices. the account being taken, and the shares calculated, the people insisted for an immediate distribution, which was made accordingly, and each foremast-man had after the rate of ten dollars a share, in money and goods. on the th we saw the island of juan fernandez; and at noon it bore from us five leagues w.s.w. the meridional distance from conception being miles[ ] w. from that day to the th, i stood off and on, waiting for my boats which were employed in fishing. in this time i sent the mercury ashore to stop her leaks, while the boats caught so many fish, that we salted the fill of five puncheons. i could find no marks of captain clipperton having been here for a long time; but at length some of my men saw accidentally the words _magee_ and captain john cut upon a tree. magee was the name of clipperton's surgeon, but no directions were left, as agreed upon in his instructions to me, so that it was evident he never meant i should keep him company, or ever join him again. [footnote : the difference of longitude between conception and juan fernandez is six degrees of longitude w. and, consequently, minutes or marine miles.--e.] being by this certified of the arrival of clipperton in the south sea, i directly made the best of my way from juan fernandez, being in a pretty good condition as to provisions, by the additional stock of fish caught here, all our casks being filled. on the st, while sailing along there with the design of looking into _copiapo_, i put mr dodd, second lieutenant of marines, into the mercury, with a reinforcement of eight men, and sent her next evening to cruize close in with the land, while i kept with the speedwell in the offing, to prevent being discovered from the land. on this occasion i took care to give the officer commanding the mercury a copy of my commission, with all necessary instructions how to proceed, appointing the _moro_, or head-land of copiapo, to be our place of meeting. the business of the mercury was to look into the port of copiapo, called _caldera_,[ ] near which there are some gold-mines, and from whence considerable quantities of gold are exported in small vessels; and our bark had the advantage of being of that country build, so that she could not excite suspicion. next day i hove in sight of the head-land of copiapo, and lay to the southward, that i might not be seen from that port, which is to the northward of the _moro de copiapo_. while here, opposite a small island which lies athwart the mouth of copiapo river, i sent the pinnace to fish between that isle and the main, and soon after saw a vessel crowding all sail towards us. she at first seemed too large for the mercury, yet turned out to be her; when the officer told me he had looked into the port, but could see no shipping; but he had looked into a wrong place, and having made him sensible of his error, i sent him again to the right place, which was about six leagues farther north. [footnote : the port of caldera, or english harbour, is about twelve or fifteen miles to the n. of copiapo river, having a considerable interposed promontory.--e.] next morning our pinnace returned, bringing only a few penguins which she had taken on the island in the bay of copiapo. the mercury had looked into caldera, but saw nothing; and instead of making use of the land-wind to come off to me, had kept along shore in the bottom of the bay till the land-wind came in so strong that she was nearly lost on the lee-shore. on the th, i sent mr brooks, my first lieutenant, and mr rainor, first lieutenant of marines, to relieve mr randal and mr dodd in the mercury, which i had fitted with a gang of oars, and, upon trial, she was found to make way at the rate of three knots, which might render her extremely useful in a calm. the th february, i dispatched mr brooks ahead in the mercury, to see if there were any ships in the harbour of arica, in lat. ° ' s. and next day, at one p.m. having ranged along shore, by the breakers of _pisagua, camarones_, and _victor_, i got sight of the head-land of arica, with a ship at anchor on its northern side, and saw the mercury standing out of the bay, by which i judged the ship was too warm for her, and therefore made all haste to get up to her with the speedwell. on coming up, we found that the ship was already taken, and the mercury only accidentally adrift. this prize was called the rosario, of tons, laden with cormorants dung, which they use for manuring the land which produces the cod-pepper, or _capsicum_, from the cultivation of which they make a vast profit in the vale of arica. the only white face in this ship was the pilot, whom i sent ashore to see if the owner would ransom his ship, the cargo being worth gold to them, but entirely useless to us. next morning i received a letter from miguel diaz gonzale, the owner of the ship, insisting pitifully on his poverty and distress, having a large family to provide for, and promising to meet me at hilo or quaco, to treat for a ransom. we soon after took a small bark of ten tons, laden with _guana_, or cormorants dung, and having also some dried fish, which lay within a mile of arica. by this time all the adjacent country was up in arms, and great numbers had come down to the coast, well mounted and armed, and seemingly well disciplined. to try their courage, i ordered the mercury and launch to draw near the shore, as if we had really intended to land, though the landing-place here is altogether impracticable for european boats; and i also cannonaded the town briskly. our balls made no execution, yet ploughed up the sand in front of the spanish horse, throwing it all over them: but neither this, nor the approach of my small craft, made any impression, for they stood firm, and at least shewed the countenance of as good troops as could be wished. this much disappointed me, as it shewed my men that the spaniards were far from being cowards, as they had been represented. as soon as it was dark, gonzales came off to me, and i agreed to let him have back his ship and six negroes on receiving dollars, reserving right to take any thing out of her that might be useful to us; and at ten next night he brought me the agreed sum, being the weight of dollars in ingots of virgin silver, called _pinnas_ by the spaniards, and the rest in coined dollars. he also made great enquiry for english commodities, for which he offered high prices, complaining that the french only supplied them with paltry goods and mere trifles, for which they carried off vast sums. he added, that he supposed the english merchants were all asleep, or too rich, as they did not come near them: and, although their ports were not so open as in other parts of the world, they yet know how to manage matters tolerably well; and that their governors, being generally europeans, who seldom remained above three years in the country, used any means to improve their time, and could easily be gained so as to act very obligingly. he said much more as to the blindness of the english, in suffering the french pedlars to carry on, uninterruptedly, the most considerable branch of traffic in the world. before leaving me, he desired me to carry his ship two or three leagues out to sea, and then to turn her adrift, on purpose to deceive the governor and the king's officers; and, if i would meet him at _hilo_ (_ilo_,) about twenty-five leagues to the north-westwards, he would purchase from me any coarse goods i had to dispose of, which might be done there with all imaginable secrecy. at this time also, the master of the small bark came off in a _balsa_. this is an odd sort of an embarkation, consisting of two large seal skins, separately blown up, like bladders, and made fast to pieces of wood. on this he brought off two jars of brandy and forty dollars; which, considering his mean appearance, was as much as i could expect. one part of his cargo was valuable, being a considerable quantity of excellent dried fish. the port of _arica_, formerly so famous for the great quantities of silver shipped from thence, is now much diminished in its riches, and appears mostly a heap of ruins, except the church of st mark, and two or three more, which still look tolerably well. what helps to give it a very desolate appearance is, that the houses near the sea are only covered with mats. being situated on the sea-shore, in an open roadstead, it has no fortifications of any kind to defend or command the anchorage, the spaniards thinking it sufficiently secured by the heavy surf, and the rocky bottom near the shore, which threaten inevitable destruction to any european boats, or other embarkation, except what is expressly contrived for the purpose, being the _balsas_ already mentioned. to obstruct the landing of an enemy, the spaniards had formerly a fort and entrenchments, flanking the storecreeks; but being built of unburnt bricks, it is now fallen to ruins. in , when dampier was here, being repulsed before the town, the english landed at the creek of _chacota,_ to the south of the head-land, whence they marched over the mountain _(gordo)_ to plunder arica. earthquakes also, which are frequent here, have at last ruined the town, and arica is now no more than a little village of about families, most of them negroes, mulattoes, and indians, with very few whites. on the th november, ,[ ] the sea, violently agitated by an earthquake, suddenly overflowed, and broke down the greatest part of the town, and the ruins of its streets are to be seen at this day. what remains of arica is not now liable to such an accident, being situated on a little rising ground at the foot of the head-land. most of the houses are only constructed of a sort of fascines, made of flags or sedges, bound together, called _totora_, set up on end, crossed by canes and leather thongs; or are made of canes set on end, having the intervals filled with earth. the use of unburnt bricks is reserved for churches and the stateliest houses; and as no rain ever falls here, they are only covered with mats, so that the houses seem all in ruins when seen from the sea. the parish church, dedicated to st mark, is handsome enough. there are also three religious houses, one a monastery of seven or eight _mercenarians_, a second is an hospital of the brothers of _st john of god_, and the third a monastery of franciscans, who formerly had a house a short way from town, in the pleasantest part of the vale, near the sea. [footnote : perhaps this date ought to have been .--e.] the vale of arica is about a league wide next the sea, all barren ground except where the old town stood, which is divided into small fields of clover, some small plantations of sugar-canes, with olive-trees and cotton-trees intermixed, and several intervening marshes, full of the sedges of which they build their houses. growing narrower about a league eastward at the village of _st michael de sapa_, they begin to cultivate the _agi_, or guinea pepper, which culture extends over all the rest of the vale, in which there are several detached farms exclusively devoted to its culture. in that part of the vale, which is very narrow, and about six leagues long, they raise yearly to the value of above , crowns. the spaniards of peru are so much addicted to this spice, that they dress no meat without it, although so hot and biting that no one can endure it, unless accustomed to its use; and, as it cannot grow in the _puna_, or mountainous country, many merchants come down every year, who carry away all the guinea pepper that grows in the districts of _arica, sama, taena, locumba_, and others, ten leagues around, from all of which it is reckoned they export yearly to the value of , dollars, though sold cheap. it is hard to credit that such vast quantities should go from hence, as the country is so parched up, except the vales, that nothing green is to be seen. this wonderful fertility is produced by the dung of fowls, which is brought from _iquique_, and which fertilizes the soil in a wonderful manner, making it produce four or five hundred for one of all sorts of grain, as wheat, maize, and so forth, but particularly of this _agi_, or guinea pepper, when rightly managed. when the plants are sufficiently grown in the seed-bed to be fit for transplanting, they are set out in winding lines like the letter s, that the furrows for conveying the water may distribute it equally to the roots of the plants. they then lay about the root of each plant of guinea pepper as much _guana_, or bird's dung formerly mentioned, as will lie in the hollow of the hand. when in blossom, they add a little more; and, lastly, when the pods are completely formed, they add a good handful more to each plant, always taking care to supply them with water, as it never rains in this country; otherwise, the salts contained in the manure, not being dissolved, would burn the plants, as has been found by experience. it is also for this reason that this manure is laid on at different times, as already explained, the necessity of which has been found by long use, and by the superior value of the crops thus produced. for the carriage of this _guana_, or fowl's dung, the people at arica generally use that sort of little camels which the indians of bern call _llamas_, the chilese, _chilihneque_, and the spaniards, _carneros de la tierra_, or native sheep. the heads of these animals are small in proportion to their bodies, and are somewhat in shape between the head of a horse and that of a sheep, the upper lips being cleft like that of a hare, through which they can spit to the distance of ten paces against any one who offends them, and if the spittle happens to fall on the face of a person, it causes a red itchy spot. their necks are long, and concavely bent downwards, like that of a camel, which animal they greatly resemble, except in having no hunch on their backs, and in being much smaller. their ordinary height is from four feet to four and a half; and their ordinary burden does not exceed an hundred-weight. they walk, holding up their heads with wonderful gravity, and at so regular a pace as no beating can quicken. at night it is impossible to make them move with their loads, for they lie down till these are taken off, and then go to graze. their ordinary food is a sort of grass called _yeho_, somewhat like a small rush, but finer, and has a sharp point, with which all the mountains are covered exclusively. they eat little, and never drink, so that they are very easily maintained. they have cloven feet like sheep, and are used at the mines to carry ore to the mills; and, as soon as loaded, they set off without any guide to the place where they are usually unloaded. they have a sort of spur above the foot, which renders them sure-footed among the rocks, as it serves as a kind of hook to hold by. their hair, or wool rather, is long, white, grey, and russet, in spots, and fine, but much inferior to that of the vicunna, and has a strong and disagreeable scent. the _vicunna_ is shaped much like the llama, but much smaller and lighter, their wool being extraordinarily fine and much valued. these animals are often hunted after the following manner: many indians gather together, and drive them into some narrow pass, across which they have previously extended cords about four feet from the ground, having bits of wool or cloth hanging to them at small distances. this so frightens them that they dare not pass, and gather together in a string, when the indians kill them with stones tied to the ends of leather thongs. should any _quanacos_ happen to be among the flock, these leap over the cords, and are followed by all the _vicunnas_. these _quanacos_ are larger and more corpulent, and are also called _viscachas_. there is yet another animal of this kind, called _alpagnes_, having wool of extraordinary fineness, but their legs are shorter, and their snouts contracted in such a manner as to give them some resemblance to the human countenance. the indians make several uses of these creatures, some of which carry burdens of about an hundred-weight. their wool serves to make stuffs, cords, and sacks. their bones are used for the construction of weavers utensils; and their dung is employed as fuel for dressing meat, and warming their huts. before the last war, a small fleet called the _armadilla_ used to resort yearly to arica, partly composed of kings ships, and partly those of private persons. by this fleet, european commodities were brought from panama, together with quicksilver for the mines of _la paz, oruro la plata,_ or _chuguizaca, potosi_, and _lipes_; and in return carried to lima the king's fifth of the silver drawn from the mines. since the galleons have ceased going to porto-bello, and the french have carried on the trade of supplying the coast of the south sea with european commodities, arica has been the most considerable mart of all this coast, and to which the merchants of the five above-mentioned rich, towns resort. it is true that the port of _cobija_ is nearer _lipes_ and _potosi_; but being situated in a barren and desert country, where nothing can be procured for the subsistence of man or beast, the merchants chuse rather to go to arica, though more distant, as they are sure to find at that place every thing they need. besides, they find no great difficulty in bringing there their silver privately in a mass, and compounding with the corregidores or chief magistrates to avoid paying the royal fifth. on leaving arica, we sailed for the road of ilo, about miles to the n.w. where we arrived that same afternoon, and saw a large ship with three small ones at anchor. the great ship immediately hoisted french colours, being the _wise solomon_ of guns, commanded by mons. dumain, who was resolved to protect the vessels that were beside him, and to oppose my coming into the road. as it grew dark before i could get into the road, i sent my third lieutenant, mr la porte, a frenchman, to inform mr dumain who we were: but my officer no sooner got on board than he was tumbled out again, the frenchman calling him a renegado; and mr dumain sent me word he would sink me if i offered to anchor there. la porte also told me, that to his knowledge the french ships often accepted spanish commissions, when there were english cruizers on this coast, having great privileges in trade allowed them for this service; and he could plainly see that the french ship was double manned, by means of inhabitants from the town, who were partly french; and, as he supposed, would come to attack me as soon as the wind was off shore. while thus talking, the french ship fired several guns at us, as if to shew that they were ready, and meant shortly to be with us. at first, this bravado heated me not a little, and i had some design of turning the mercury into a fire-ship, by the help of which i might have roasted this insolent frenchman: but, having reflected on the situation of affairs at home, and fearing my attacking him might be deemed unjustifiable, notwithstanding his unwarranted conduct, i thought it best to stand out of the harbour. on the th february, the moiety of the money taken at arica was divided among the company according to their shares. on the d we found ourselves in the heights of _calao,_ the port of lima; on which i furled all my sails, resolving to get away in the night; knowing, if we were discovered from thence, that we should certainly be pursued by some spanish men of war, as there are always some in that port. on the th, the officers in the mercury desired to be relieved, and i spoke to captain hately, whose turn it was to take the command of that bark. this gentleman had been long a prisoner among the spaniards in this country, which he was well acquainted with, having travelled between payta and lima by land, on which occasion he had observed several rich towns, which made him conceive we might do something to purpose, by cruizing along the coast, as far as the island of lobos, in lat. ° s. i approved of this, as it was probable we might meet some of the panama ships, which always keep well in with the land, in order to have the benefit of the land-breezes. as the company of the mercury seemed delighted with this project, i augmented their complement, giving them a month's provisions on board. i also lent captain hately my pinnace, mounted his bark with two of our quarter-deck guns, and gave him a copy of my commission, although it was very likely we should have frequent sight of the mercury, between our present intended separation, and our intended rendezvous at the island of lobos, not above sixty leagues from where we then were. when every thing was ready for their departure, captain betagh, whose turn it was to relieve the marine officer in the mercury, being unwilling to go, went among our people with a terrified countenance, saying, that he and those with him in the mercury were going to be sacrificed. hearing this, i addressed my ship's company, telling them i could not conceive what this pestilent fellow meant by making such an uproar. i appealed to them all, if it had not been customary to relieve the officers in this manner, ever since we had this vessel in company, and asked them if ever they knew me select any man for going upon an enterprise, and had not, on the contrary, left it always to their own choice to go on any particular service out of the ship. i then desired to know who among them were of betagh's opinion? upon this, they all declared with one voice, that they had never entertained any such opinion; but, on the contrary, that i should always find them obedient to my commands. in the next place, i ordered the mercury along side, and acquainted her crew with the speech betagh had made in the speedwell, and desired to know if any of them were apprehensive of being sold or sacrificed. at this they all set up a loud huzza, and requested they might go on the intended cruize in the mercury. accordingly hately and betagh went on board that bark, and put off from us, giving us three cheers, and stood right in for the land. it may be proper to take some notice of the proceedings of the mercury after she left me, as i have been informed from some of themselves and some prisoners. the very next day they took a small bark laden with rice, chocolate, wheat, flour, and the like; and the day following, another. on the th day, they took a ship of near tons, in which were , dollars. flushed with this success, betagh prevailed upon hately, and most of the people in the mercury, not to rejoin me, saying, they had now enough to appear like gentlemen as long as they lived, but it would be a mere nothing when the owner's part was taken out, and the rest divided into shares. he therefore thought, since fortune had been so kind to them, they ought to make the best of their way to india, as they had sufficient provisions and all other requisites for the voyage, and captain. hately was well able to conduct them to some port in the east indies. this plan was accordingly resolved on, and they fell to leeward of the place of rendezvous. but, weighing with himself the prodigious extent of the run, and its many hazards, and well knowing the treatment he might expect in india, if his treachery were discovered, captain hately became irresolute, and could not determine what was best to be done, so that he kept hovering on the coast. in the mean time, some of his crew went away in his boat to surrender themselves to the enemy, rather than be concerned in such a piratical undertaking. betagh and his accomplices still kept hately warm with liquor, and at length brought him to the resolution of leaving the south sea. but they had no sooner clapped their helm a-weather for this purpose than they saw a sail standing towards them, which proved to be a spanish man of war, which caught them, and spoilt their india voyage. the english prisoners were very indifferently used; but betagh, being a roman catholic, and of a nation which the spaniards are very fond of,[ ] was treated with much respect, and was even made an officer. [footnote : he seems to have been a fleming, taken on board at ostend, when the voyage was originally intended to have proceeded under an imperial commission.--e.] in the morning of the th february, we saw a vessel at anchor in the road of _guanchaeo_, and anchored alongside of her at eleven a.m. she was called the carmasita, of about tons, having only two indian men and a boy on board, and her only loading was a small quantity of timber from guayaquil. from these prisoners, i was informed of a rich ship being in the cove of payta, having put in there to repair some damage she had sustained in a gale of wind. on this information i put immediately to sea, but in purchasing our anchor, the cable parted, and we lost our anchor. our prize being new and likely to sail well, i took her with us, naming her the st david, designing to have made her a complete fire-ship as soon as we should be rejoined by the mercury, in which there were materials for that purpose. next day we looked into cheripe, whence we chased a small vessel, which ran on shore to avoid us. next morning, being near lobos, our appointed rendezvous with the mercury, i sent ashore my second lieutenant, mr randal, with two letters in separate bottles, directing captain hately to follow me to payta, to which port i now made the best of my way, and arrived before it on the th of march, and sent mr randal to look into the cove, to bring me an account of what ships were there, that i might know what to think of the information we had received from our prisoners. on the st, i steered directly in for the cove of payta, which i entered under french colours about four in the afternoon. we found only a small ship there, of which mr brooks took possession in the launch. about seven p.m. we came to anchor within three quarters of a mile of the town. the town seemed to be moderately large and populous, and there might probably be some land-forces for its defence, being the rendezvous of the ships which trade between panama and caloa; yet, as the taking of this place was treated in our instructions as a matter of importance, i consulted with my officers as to the best manner of making the attempt. leaving the charge of the ship with the master, mr coldsea, and a few hands, to look after the negroes we had on board, and with orders to bring the ship nearer to the town, for the more expeditiously embarking any plunder we might make; i landed with forty-six men, well armed, about two in the morning of the d, and marched directly up to the great church without the slightest opposition, for we found the town entirely deserted by the inhabitants. at day-light, we observed large bodies of men on the hills, on both sides of the town, which we expected would have come down to attack us; but, on marching up towards them, they retired before us. hitherto we had taken no prisoners, except an old indian and a boy, who told us that captain clipperton had been here some time before, and had set some prisoners ashore, who assured them he meant not to do them any injury; but that the inhabitants, not thinking fit to trust him, had removed all their valuable effects into the mountains, among which were , dollars belonging to the king, which had been a fine prize for clipperton, who certainly would have found no greater difficulty in taking this town than i did. i was constrained suddenly to halt, in consequence of hearing a gun fired from the ship, soon after which word was brought me that she was ashore. i hurried off as fast as i could, carrying with us the union-flag, which i had planted in the church-yard; and, as we were re-embarking, the enemy came running down the hill, hallooing after us. when i got on board, i found the ship entirely afloat, but within her own breadth of the rocks; and, as the water was quite smooth, we soon warped her off again. we then returned to the town, whence the spaniards retired as peaceably as before. the remainder of the day was employed in shipping off what plunder we could find, which consisted of hogs, brown and white _calavances_, beans, indian corn, wheat, flour, sugar, and as many _cocoa nuts_[ ] as we were able to stow away, together with pans and other conveniences for preparing it, so that we were now amply provided with excellent breakfast meat for the rest of our voyage, and were, besides, full of other provisions. [footnote : cacao, chocolate-nuts, are almost certainly here meant.--e.] at eight in the morning of the d, a messenger came in to know what ransom i would take for the town and the ship, for which i demanded , dollars in twenty-four hours. at eight next morning, i had a letter from the governor, signifying, that as i wrote in french, neither he nor any one about him could understand its contents; but if i would write in latin or spanish, i might depend on a satisfactory answer. in the afternoon, i sent for one of our quarter-deck guns on shore, which was mounted at our guard, and was fired at sun-set, midnight, and break of day. the messenger returned in the morning of the th, accompanied by the master of the ship we had taken, and on hearing of their arrival, i went on shore to know what they had to propose. i understood from them that the governor was determined not to ransom the town, and did not care what become of it, provided the churches were not burnt. though i never had any intention to destroy any place devoted to divine worship, i answered that i should have no regard to the churches, or anything else, when i set the town on fire; and i told the master of the vessel, he might expect to see her in flames immediately, if not ransomed without delay. this seemed to make a great impression, and he promised to return in three hours with the money. i then caused every thing to be taken out of the town that could be of any use to us, after which i ordered the town to be set on fire in several places; and, as the houses were old and dry, it instantly became a bonfire. in the midst of this conflagration, the people in the speedwell made many signals for me to come on board, and kept continually firing towards the mouths of the harbour. as i could only guess the meaning of all this, i went on board as soon as possible in a canoe, having only three men along with me. before i could reach the ship, i could distinctly see a large ship, with a spanish flag at her fore-topmast-head, and her fore-topsail a-back. at this sight, two of my three men were ready to faint, and if it had not been for my boatswain, i doubt if i should have got on board; and if the spanish admiral had acted with vigour, he might have taken the ship long enough before i got to her. it is bare justice to mr coldsea to say, that he fired so smartly on the spaniard as to induce him to act with great precaution, which had been quite unnecessary if he had known our weakness. his caution, however, gave me the opportunity of getting on board: and, in the mean time, my officers were so unwilling to leave our guard-gun ashore, that they spent a great while in getting it into the boat, so that i was afraid the enemy would attack us before our people could get on board. the spaniard was, however, in no hurry, thinking, no doubt, that we could not well escape him, yet was within pistol-shot of us before the last of our men got on board, being about fifty in all. we now cut our cable, but our ship fell round the wrong way, so that i had just room enough to fall clear of the enemy. being now close together, the formidable appearance of the enemy struck an universal damp on the spirits of my people; some of whom, in coming off from the shore, were for jumping into the water and swimming on shore, which a few actually did. the enemy was a fine european-built ship, of guns, and the disproportion was so great between us, that there seemed no hopes of escaping, as we were under his lee. i endeavoured to get into shoal water, but he becalmed me with his sails, and confined us for the best part of an hour, during which he handled us very roughly with his cannon, making very little use of his small-arms, never allowing us a moment's ease, but as soon as his broadside was ready, he gave his ship the starboard helm, bringing as many of his guns to bear as possible, and at the same time kept me from the wind. we returned his fire as briskly as we could; but, in our precipitate retreat from the town, most of our small arms were wetted, so that it was long before they were of any use. during this action, there was a strange contusion on shore, where the people had flocked down from the hills to extinguish the fire in payta, in which some of them were busily employed, while others stood on the shore, spectators of our engagement. i was long in despair of getting away from the spaniard, expecting nothing less than to be torn in pieces by his superior fire, unless we could have an opportunity of trying our heels with him while our masts remained standing. i expected every minute that he would board us, and hearing a hallooing among them, and seeing their forecastle full of men, i concluded that they had come to this resolution; but soon saw that it proceeded from our ensign being shot down, on which i made another be displayed in the mizen-shrouds, on sight of which they lay snug as before, keeping close upon our quarter. intending at length to do our business at once, they clapped their helm hard a-starboard, in order to bring their whole broadside to bear, but their fire had little effect, and it muzzled themselves, which gave us an opportunity to get away from them. this certainly was a lucky escape, after an engagement of three glasses with an enemy so much our superior; for he had guns and men, while we had only guns mounted and only men, of whom were negroes and two indians. he had farther the vast advantage over us of being in perfect readiness, while we were in the utmost confusion; and in the middle of the engagement, a third of my people, instead of fighting, were hard at work in preparing for an obstinate resistance; particularly the carpenter and his crew, who were busy in making port-holes for stern-chase guns, which, as it happened, we made no use of. yet were we not unhurt, as the loss of my boat and anchor were irreparable, and may be said to have been the cause of that scene of trouble which fell upon us soon after; as we had now only one anchor remaining, that lost at payta being the third, and we had not now a boat of any kind. i have since learnt that some of our shots in the engagement were well directed, and that we killed and wounded several of the enemy. having thus got away from the _peregrine_, i slipped off in the evening with much ado from the brilliant, her consort, on board of which betagh now was, and even desired to be the first to board me. i was now in a very uncomfortable situation, not having the smallest hope of meeting with the success; and i had learned at payta, that the spaniards had laid on an embargo for six months, so that we had nothing to expect in the way of prizes; and, having seen our prize taken, we had reason to expect that all our designs were discovered by the enemy. having now only one anchor and no boat, it is not to be wondered that i gave up all idea of making an attempt on guayaquil, which i at first proposed, having intelligence that there were several ships of considerable value in that river, in consequence of the embargo, which might have done me some service, if i had been better provided. in this situation, it was resolved, in a committee of my officers, to return to the southwards, or to windward, as the spaniards must necessarily continue their trade with chili, in spite of their embargo; after which we proposed to water at juan fernandez, and then to cruize on the coast of conception, valparaiso, and coquimbo, for the coasting traders, among whom we might supply ourselves with anchors, cables, and boats, and a vessel to fit out as a fire-ship. i also proposed, before leaving the coast of chili, to make an attempt on la serena or coquimbo. after all this, i proposed to proceed for the coast of mexico, and thence to the _tres marias_ and california, as the most likely means of meeting with the success; besides which, the former of these places might be commodious for salting turtle, to serve as sea stores, and the latter for laying in a stock of wood and water; after which we might lie in the track of the manilla ship. but if we could not succeed in that attempt, we might then satisfy ourselves with cruizing for the peruvian ships, which bring silver to acapulco for purchasing the indian and chinese commodities. my plan being approved, we proceeded to windward, having secured our masts and bent a new set of sails on the th, after which we stood to the southward, expecting to make our passage in about five weeks. the carpenters were now set to work to build a new boat that we might have the means of watering our ship. on the st, while working the pumps, the water not only came in in greater quantity than usual, but was as black as ink, which made me suspect some water had got at our powder; and on going into the powder-room, i found the water rushing in like a little sluice, which had already spoiled the greatest part of our powder, only six barrels remaining uninjured, which i immediately had stowed away in the bread-room. it pleased god that we now had fair weather, as otherwise we might have had much difficulty to keep our ship afloat. we found the leak on the larboard side, under the lower cheek of the head, where a shot had lodged and afterwards dropt out, leaving room for a stream of water. we accordingly brought down our ship by the stern, and secured the leak effectually. at this time we had an abundant stock of provisions. each man had a quart of chocolate and three ounces of rusk for breakfast; and had fresh meat or fresh fish every day for dinner, having plenty of the latter about the ship, so that we could almost always make our choice between dolphin and albicore. on the th may we made the westermost of the islands of juan fernandez, otherwise called _mas a fuero_, distant twelve leagues n.e. by n. and the day after, our carpenters had completed our new boat, which could carry three hogsheads. on the th we saw the great island of juan fernandez, bearing e. / s. being in latitude, by observation, ° ' s. a joyful sight at the time, though so unfortunate to us in the sequel. we plied off and on till the st, but could not get as much water on board daily in that time as supplied our daily expenditure, owing to the smallness of our boat, which made it necessary for us to anchor in the roads till that purpose was accomplished, in order for which i prepared to raft twenty tons of casks on shore. we worked in and anchored in forty fathoms, carrying a warp on shore, which we fastened to the rocks, of three hawsers and a half in length, which both steadied the ship, and enabled us to haul our cask-raft ashore and aboard. by this means we were ready to go to sea again next morning, having filled all our water casks; but had no opportunity of so doing for four days, during which we continued to anchor in the same manner. on the th may, a hard gale came upon us from seaward, bringing with it a great tumbling swell, by which at length our cable parted. this was a dismal accident, as we had no means whatever by which to avoid the prospect of immediate destruction. but providence interposed in our behalf: for had we struck only a cable's length to the east or west of where we did, we must all have inevitably perished. when our ill-fated ship touched the rock, we had all to hold fast by some part of the ship or rigging, otherwise the violence of her shock in striking must have tossed us all into the sea. our three masts went all away together by the board. in short, words are wanting to express the wretched condition in which we now were, or our astonishment at our unexpected and unfortunate shipwreck. section iii. _residence on the island of juan fernandez._ having all got on shore in the evening, my officers gathered around me to bear me company, and to devise measures for procuring necessaries out of the wreck; and having lighted a fire, wrapped themselves up in what they could get, and slept very soundly, notwithstanding the coldness of the weather, and our hopeless situation. i would have set the people to work that very night, in endeavouring to save what we could from the wreck, but they were so dispersed that we could not gather them together, and all opportunity was lost of saving any thing, except some of our fire-arms. but while the people were employed in building tents, and making other preparations for their residence on the island, the wreck was entirely destroyed, and every thing in her was lost, except one cask of beef and one of _farina de pao_, which were washed on shore. thus all our provisions were gone, and every thing else that might have been useful. i had saved dollars belonging to the owners, which happened to be in my chest in the great cabin, all the rest of their treasure being in the bottom of the bread-room for security, which consequently could not be come at. i now took some pains to find out a convenient place in which to set up my tent, and at length found a commodious spot of ground not half a mile from the sea, having a fine stream of water on each side, with trees close at hand for firing, and building our huts. the people settled around me as well as they could, and as the cold season was coming on, some thatched their huts, while others covered theirs with the skins of seals and sea-lions. others again satisfied themselves with water-butts, in which they slept under cover of trees. having thus secured ourselves from the weather, we used to pass our time in the evenings around a great fire before my tent, where my officers usually assembled, employing themselves in roasting cray-fish in the embers; sometimes bewailing our unhappy fate, and sinking into despondency; and at other times feeding ourselves with hopes that something might yet be done to set us again afloat. on this subject i first consulted with the carpenter, who answered, that he could not make bricks without straw, and then walked from me in a surly humour. from him i went to the armourer, and asked what he could do for us in his way that might contribute to build a small vessel. to this he answered, that he hoped he could do all the iron work, as he had fortunately saved his bellows from the wreck, with four or five _spadoes_ or spanish swords, which would afford him steel, and there could be no want of iron along shore; besides, that we should doubtless find many useful things when we came to work in good earnest. he desired therefore, that i would get some charcoal made for him, while he set up his forge. upon this encouragement, i called all hands together, and explained to them the great probability there was of our being able to build a vessel sufficient to transport us from this island; but that it would be a laborious task, and must require their united best endeavours. to this they all consented, and promised to work with great diligence, begging me to give them directions how to proceed. i then ordered the men who had axes on shore, before the wreck, to cut wood for making charcoal, while the rest went down to the wreck to get the boltsprit ashore, of which i proposed to make the keel of our intended vessel; and i prevailed on the carpenter to go with me, to fix upon the properest place for building. the people found a great many useful materials about the wreck; and among the rest the topmast, which had been washed on shore, and was of the greatest importance. we laid the blocks for building upon on the th june, and had the boltsprit ready at hand to lay down as the keel; when the carpenter turned short round upon me, and swore an oath that he would not strike another stroke on the work, for he would be slave to nobody, and thought himself now on a footing with myself. i was at first angry, but came at length to an agreement with him, to give him a four-pistole piece as soon as the stern and stern-posts were up, and dollars when the bark was finished, and the money to be committed to the keeping of any one he chose to name. this being settled, he went to work upon the keel, which was to be thirty feet long; the breadth of our bark, by the beam, sixteen feet, and her hold seven feet deep. in two months we made a tolerable shew, owing in a great measure to the ingenuity of poppleston, our armourer, who never lost a minute in working with his hands, or contriving in his head. he made us a small double-headed maul, hammers, chisels, and a sort of gimblets or wimbles, which performed very well. he even made a bullet-mould, and an instrument to bore cartouch-boxes, which he made from the trucks of our gun-carriages, covering them with seal-skins, and contrived to make them not only convenient, but neat. he contrived to execute any iron-work wanted by the carpenter, and even finished a large serviceable boat, of which we stood much in need. in the beginning of this great work the people behaved themselves very well, half of them working regularly one day, and the other half the next, seeming every day to grow easier under our misfortunes. they treated me with as much respect as i could wish, and even in a body thanked me for the prospect of their deliverance; while i never failed to encourage them by telling them stories of the great things that had been accomplished by the united efforts of men in similar distresses. i always pressed them to stick close to the work, that we might get our bark ready in time; and told them that we fortunately had three of the best ports in chili within leagues of us. this inspired them with life and vigour, and they often declared that they would exert their utmost endeavours to finish her with all expedition. at last, however, we became a prey to faction, so that it was a miracle we ever got off from this place. for, after completing the most laborious part of the work, they entirely neglected it; and many of my officers, deserting my society, herded with the meanest of the ship's company. i was now convinced in a suspicion i had long entertained, that some black design was in embryo; for when i met any of my officers, and asked what they were about, and the reason of their acting so contrary to their duty, by diverting the people from their work, some used even to tell me they knew not whether they would leave the island or not, when my bundle of sticks was ready; that they cared not how matters went, for they could shift for themselves as well as the rest. when i spoke with the common men, some were surly, and others said they would be slaves no longer, but would do as the rest did. in the midst of these confusions, i ordered my son to secure my commission in some dry place among the woods or rocks, remembering how captain dampier had been served in these seas. at length, i one afternoon missed all the people, except mr adamson the surgeon, mr hendric the agent, my son, and mr dodd, lieutenant of marines, which last feigned lunacy, for some reason best known to himself. i learnt at night that they had been all day assembled at the great tree, in deep consultation, and had framed a new set of regulations and articles, by which the owners in england were excluded from any share in what we might take for the future, divested me of all authority as captain, and regulated themselves according to the _jamaica discipline_.[ ] even the chief officers, among the rest, had concurred in electing one morphew to be their champion and speaker, who addressed the assembly to the following purport: "that they were now their own masters, and servants to none: and as mr shelvocke, their former captain, took upon him still to command, he ought to be informed, that whoever was now to be their commander, must be so through their own courtesy. however, that mr shelvocke might have the first offer of the command, if the majority thought fit, but not otherwise. that mr shelvocke carried himself too lofty and arbitrarily for the command of a privateer, and ought to have continued in men-of-war, where the people were obliged to bear all hardships quietly, whether right or wrong." [footnote : this expression is not explained, but seems to have been, according to the model of the buccaneers, all prizes to be divided among the captors.--e.] some persons present, who had a regard for me, represented, "that they had never seen or known me treat any one unjustly or severely; and that however strict i might be, they had no one else to depend upon, and that they ought all to consider how many difficulties i had already brought them through. that, although they were not now in the hands of our enemies, no one could tell how soon others might come upon them: and, if they ever looked to get back to england, there was no other way but by going round the world, for which there was no one capable of undertaking the charge except captain shelvocke. they ought also to consider his commission, and the respect due to him on that account; besides the protection that would afford them, should they happen to fall into the hands of the spaniards." this remonstrance had some effect on the common men, but they were diverted from the thoughts of returning to obedience by no less a person than my first lieutenant, mr brooks, who had made morphew his confidant even on board ship: for having served before the mast before he was made my lieutenant, he had contracted a liking for forecastle conversation. they were also supported and encouraged by mr randal, my second lieutenant, who was brother-in-law to brooks, and by others. the first remarkable outrage committed by this gang of levellers was to mr la porte, my third lieutenant, whom morphew knocked down on the beach, while brooks stood by and witnessed this brutality. this affair came soon after to be fully explained; for the men framed a new set of articles, putting themselves upon the jamaica discipline, and declaring, as i had been their captain, i might be so still; and that they were willing to allow me six shares, as a mark of their regard, though i ought only to have four, according to the jamaica articles. most of the officers were reduced, according to the same plan: for instance, mr la porte, mr dodu, and mr hendrie were declared midshipmen; and as the superior officers consented to this scheme, it could not be prevented from being carried into execution. mr coldsea the master was the only person who preserved a kind of neutrality, neither promoting nor opposing their designs. in this distressed emergency, i thought it lawful, and even necessary, to submit to their demands, and therefore signed their articles, in conjunction with the rest of my officers. i now thought to have got them to work on our bark; but, instead of listening to me, they demanded what little money i had saved belonging to the owners, with which i was obliged to comply, being dollars in virgin silver, a silver dish weighing ounces, and dollars in coin. even after this i was treated worse than ever, having only the refuse of the fish allowed me, after they had chosen the best, being glad, after a hard day's work, to dine upon seal; while morphew and his associates feasted on the best fish the sea afforded. they next took the arms out of my custody, of which hitherto i had taken great care; because, having only one flint to each musket, and very little ammunition, i foresaw that we would be undone if this were wasted. i represented all this to them, yet they squandered away the small remainder of powder and bullets in killing cats, or any thing else they could get to fire at.--this is a concise history of our transactions in the island of juan fernandez, from the th may to the th august, during which no person could suffer more than i did, or have a more uncomfortable prospect. on the th of august we were put into great confusion by the sight of a large ship, on which, before she crossed the bay, i ordered all the fires to be put out, and the negroes and indians to be confined, lest the ship might be becalmed under the land, and any of them should attempt to swim off to her, as i conceived she might possibly be a man-of-war come to seek us, having received advice of our shipwreck; yet i knew, if she discovered what we were about, we should soon have the whole force of the kingdom of chili upon us. our apprehensions were soon over, as the ship bore away large, and kept at too great a distance to see any thing of us. on this occasion i got most of our people under arms, and was glad to see them in some measure obedient to command; telling them that i was pleased to see their arms in such good order, i was impertinently answered, that this was for their own sakes. before they dispersed, i represented to them the necessity of using their best endeavour to get our bark afloat, instead of caballing against their captain, which, in the end, might be very prejudicial to them all; as, if discovered by the spaniards, we might expect to be all made slaves in the mines. i told them we still had a great deal of work to do, and had never above ten of the most considerate to labour, and seldom above six or seven; while they knew i was always one of the number, to shew a good example. but the more i tried to reclaim them, the more obstinately they ran into confusion, interrupting every thing that tended to do them service. next day they divided among themselves on a new scheme, being no less than to burn our bark, and to build two large shallops, or pinnaces, in lieu of her. morphew and his friend brooks were the favourers of this new design, aiming doubtless at a separation by this means: but as this must be determined by a majority, they assembled to debate this matter in front of my tent, carrying on their deliberations with much clamour on both sides. in order to put them off this ruinous plan, i represented to them the impracticability of building the boats, as our tools and other materials were already worn out and expended. the workmen, and a considerable majority of the rest, sided with me: but at night the carpenter sent me word, if i did not pay him the money agreed upon at first, i should never see his face again; wherefore, although his terms had not been implemented, i was obliged to raise the money for him. the most provoking part of this proposal about the boats was, that the fellows who chiefly promoted it were those who had never done an hour's work since we were cast away. not gaining this point, they openly declared i should not be their captain, and that none but brooks should command them, which was probably what that young man aspired to from the commencement of the mutiny; and had undoubtedly succeeded, had it not been for the people in the boatswain's tent, who still refused their consent to my being left on the island, though fond of thinking themselves their own masters, and of refusing to submit to regular command. to complete our confusion, there arose a third party, who resolved to have nothing to do with the rest, proposing to remain on the island. there were twelve of these, who separated from the rest, and never made their appearance except at night, when they used to come about the tents to steal powder, lead, and axes, and any thing else they could lay their hands, on. but in a little time i found means to manage them, and took from them all their arms, ammunition, axes, and other plunder, and threatened to have them treated as enemies, if they came within musket-shot of our tents. these divisions so weakened the whole body, that they began to listen to me, so that i got most of them into a working humour. even brooks came to me with a feigned submission, desiring to eat with me again, yet in the main did not lessen his esteem for morphew. his dissimulation, however, proved of infinite service in contributing to the finishing of our bark, which required the united efforts of all our heads and hands. for, when we came to plank the bottom, we had very vexatious difficulties to encounter, as our only plank consisted in pieces from the deck of our wreck, which was so dry and stubborn that fire and water had hardly any effect in making it pliable, as it rent, split, and flew in pieces like glass; so that i now began to fear that all our labour was in vain, and we must quietly wait to be taken off by some spanish ship, and be led quietly to prison after all our troubles. by constant labour, and using a variety of contrivances, we at length finished our bark, but in such a manner that i may safely assert, a similar bottom never before swam on the sea. our boat also was launched on the th september; and our bark being now in a fair way of being completed, it remained to consider what provisions we could get to support us during our voyage, all our stock being one cask of beef, five or six bushels of _farina de poa_, or cassada flour, and four or five live hogs. i made several experiments to preserve both fish and seal, but found that this could not be done without salt. at length we fell upon a contrivance for curing conger eels, by splitting them, taking out their backbones, dipping them in sea-water, and then drying them in a great smoke; but as no other fish could be cured in a similar manner, our fishers were directed to catch as many congers as they could. at this time several of our people who had not hitherto done any work, began to repent of their folly, as they grew weary of living on this island, and now offered their services to go a-fishing, making some idle excuses for being so long idle, asking my pardon, and promising not to lose a moment in future. the new boat was sent to try her fortune, and returned at night with a great parcel of various kinds of fish, among which were about congers, which was a good beginning, and which were divided among the tents to be cured. our boat was carefully hauled on shore every night, and strictly guarded, to prevent any of our people from stealing her, and making their escape. by her means also, mr brooks, our only diver, tried what could be recovered from that part of the wreck which had not been drifted on shore; but could only weigh one small gun, and two pieces of a large church candlestick, belonging to our owners. our boat was daily employed in fishing, for which purpose the armourer supplied hooks; and our men made abundance of lines of twisted ribbons, a great quantity of which had been driven on shore. others of the men were employed in making twine stuff for rigging, patching up old canvass for sails, and a variety of other necessary contrivances to enable us to put to sea; and our cooper put our casks in order; and at length we set up our masts, which were tolerably well rigged, and our bark made a decent figure. my spirits were however much damped, by the extreme difficulty of caulking her tight, as her seams were bad, our tools wretched, and our artists very indifferent. when this was done, so as we could, our bark was put into the water to try her fitness, on which there was an outcry of, a sieve! a sieve! every one now seemed melancholy and dispirited, insomuch that i was afraid they would use no farther means; but in a little time, by incessant labour, we brought her into a tolerable condition. having repaired the ship's pumps, and fitted them to the bark, the people exclaimed that this was only a poor dependence; but i exhorted them to have patience, and continue their assistance in doing every thing that could be thought of for her security. the cooper also made a set of buckets, one for every man, to serve to bale her, in case of necessity. next spring-tide, which was on the th october, , we put her again into the water, naming her the _recovery_, when she answered tolerably well, when we resolved to run the hazard of going to sea in her, and made all possible dispatch in getting our things on board. yet, after all, a dozen of our people chose to remain on shore, together with as many negroes and indians. our sea-stock, besides the small quantity of beef and cassada flour formerly mentioned, consisted of eels cured in smoke, weighing one with another about a pound each, together with about sixty gallons of seal-oil, in which to fry them. on our first landing, as the weather was then too coarse for fishing, we had to live on seals, the entrails of which are tolerable food; but the constant and prodigious slaughter we made among them, frightened them from our side of the island. some of the people eat cats, which i could not bring myself to, and declared they were sweet nourishing food. when the weather allowed us to fish, we were delivered from these hardships; but some of our mischievous crew set the boat a-drift, so that she was lost: after which we contrived wicker boats, covered with sea-lions skins, which did well enough near shore, but we durst not venture in them out into the bay, and consequently were worse provided with fish than we might otherwise have been. we fried our fish in seal-oil, and eat it without bread or salt, or any other relish, except some wild sorrel. our habitations were very wretched, being only covered by boughs of trees, with the skins of seals and sea-lions, which were often torn off in the night, by sudden flaws of wind from the mountains. the island of juan fernandez is in lat ° ' s. and long. ° w. being at the distance of about marine leagues, or ° ' from the coast of chili. it is about fifteen english miles long from e. to w. and five miles at the broadest, from n to s. entirely composed of mountains and valleys, so that there is no walking a quarter of a mile on a flat. the anchoring place is on the north side of the island, and is distinguished by a little mountain, with a high peak on each side. it is not safe to anchor in less than forty fathoms, and even there, ships are very much exposed to sharp gales from the north, which blow frequently. there cannot well be a more unpleasant place to anchor in, as the bay is surrounded by high mountains, and is subject to alternate dead calms and sudden stormy gusts of wind. this island enjoys a fine wholesome air, insomuch that out of seventy of us, who remained here five months and eleven days, not one among us had an hour's sickness, though we fed upon such foul diet, without bread or salt; so that we had no complaints among us, except an incessant craving appetite, and the want of our former strength and vigour. as for myself, from being corpulent, and almost crippled by the gout, i lost much of my flesh, but became one of the strongest and most active men on the island, walking much about, working hard, and never in the least afflicted with that distemper. the soil is fertile, and abounds with many large and beautiful trees, most of them aromatic. the names of such as we knew were the _pimento_, which bears a leaf like a myrtle, but somewhat larger, with a blue blossom, the trunks being short and thick, and the heads bushy and round, as if trained by art. there is another tree, much larger, which i think resembles that which produces the jesuit bark. there are plains on the tops of some of the mountains, on which are groves of the _indian laurel_, mentioned by frezier in his description of chili. these have a straight slender body, from which sprout small irregular branches all the way from the root to the top, bearing leaves like the laurel, but smaller. _palm-trees_ are found in most parts of the island, growing in smooth joints, like canes, some thirty and some forty feet high. their heads resemble the cocoa-nut tree, except that their leaves are of a paler green, and bear large bunches of red berries, bigger than sloes, which taste like haws, and have stones as large as those of heart-cherries. that which we call the _palm-cabbage_ is the very substance of the head of the tree; which being cut off and divested of its great spreading leaves, and all that is hard and tough, consists of a white and tender young shoot or head, having its leaves and berries perfectly formed, and ready to replace the old one. when in search of these, we were forced to cut down a lofty tree for each individual cabbage. one good property of the woods which cover this island is, that they are every where of easy access, as there is no undergrowth, except in some of the deepest valleys, where the fern grows exceedingly high, and of which there are very large trees, with trunks of considerable solidity.[ ] some of the english who had been formerly here, had sowed turnips, which have spread much, as have also two or three plantations of small pompions; but my men never had patience to let any of these come to maturity. we found also plenty of water-cresses and wild sorrel. some of the hills are remarkable for a fine red earth, which i take to be the same with that of which the inhabitants of chili make their earthenware, which is almost as beautiful as the red porcelain of china. the northern part of the island is well watered by a great many streams which flow down the narrow valleys; and we found the water to keep well at sea, and to be as good as any in the world. down the western peak, contiguous to the table mountain, there fall two cascades from a perpendicular height of not less than feet. these are close together, and about feet broad. what with the rapid descent of these streams, and the numerous palm-trees growing close beside them, adorned with vast clusters of red berries, the prospect is really beautiful. we should have had no want of goats, could we have conveniently followed them in the mountains. the spaniards, before they settled in chili, left a breed of goats here, and have since endeavoured to destroy them, by leaving a breed of dogs, but without effect. cats are also very numerous, exactly resembling our household cats in size and colour; and those of our men who eat of them, assured me they found more substantial relief from one meal of their flesh, than from four or five of seal or fish; and, to their great satisfaction, we had a small bitch, which, could catch almost any number they wanted in an hour. there are not many sorts of birds; but the sea on the coast abounds with a greater variety of fish than almost any place i was ever in. [footnote : these must have been some species of palm, having palmatad leaves resembling ferns.--e.] seals and sea-lions also abound; called _lobos de la mar_ by the spaniards, from their resemblance to wolves. they have a fine iron-grey fur, and when full grown are as big as a large mastiff. they are naturally surly, and snarl at the approach of any one. instead of tails, they have two fins behind, with which they make shift to get on much faster than the sea-lions, which are large unwieldy creatures, and prodigiously full of oil. section iv. _farther proceedings in the south sea, after leaving juan fernandez._ we departed from juan fernandez on the evening of the th october, having nothing to subsist upon except the smoked congers, one of which was allowed to each man for twenty-four hours; together with one cask of beef, four live hogs, which had fed all the time we were ashore on the putrid carcases of seals, and three or four bushels of cassada meal. we were upwards of forty men, crowded together, and lying on the bundles of eels, with no means of keeping ourselves clean, so that all our senses were offended as greatly as possible. the only way we had of procuring water, was by sucking it from the cask with a gun-barrel, used promiscuously by every one. the little unsavoury morsels we daily eat, created incessant quarrels, every one contending for the frying-pan; and our only convenience for a fire, was a tub half filled with earth, which made cooking so tedious, that we had the continual noise of frying from morning to night. i proposed that we should stand for the bay of conception, as being the nearest to us; and we were hard put to it every day, while the sea-breeze continued; for, not having above sixteen inches free board, and our bark tumbling prodigiously, the water ran over us perpetually; and having only a grating deck, and no tarpaulin to cover it but the top-sail of our bark, our pomps were barely sufficient to keep us free. at four in the morning of the th, we fell in with a large ship, and i could see by moon-light that she was europe-built. our case being desperate, we stood towards her, and being rigged after the fashion of the south seas, they did not regard us till day-light. not being then quite up with her, they suspected us by the brownness of our canvas, wore ship, hauled close upon the wind, fired a gun, and crowded sail away from us, leaving us at a great rate. it fell calm two hours after, when we had recourse to our oars, and neared her with tolerable speed. in the mean time, we overhauled our arms, which we found in bad condition, a third of them wanting flints, and we had only three cutlasses, so that we were by no means prepared for boarding, which yet was the only means we had of taking the ship. we had only one small cannon, which we could not mount, and were therefore obliged to fire it as it lay along the deck; and we had only two round shot, a few chain-bolts, the clapper of the speedwell's bell, and some bags of stones. we came up with her in four hours; but i now saw that she had guns and pattereroes, with a considerable number of men, whose arms glittered in the sun. the enemy defied us to board them, and at the same time gave us a volley of great and small shot, which killed our gunner, and almost brought our foremast by the board. this unexpected reception staggered many of my people, who before seemed most forward, so that they lay on their oars for some time, though i urged them to keep their way. recovering again, we rowed quite up to them, and continued to engage till all our small shot was expended, which obliged us to fall astern to make some slugs, and in this manner we made three attacks without success. all night we were busied in making slugs, and provided a large quantity before morning, when we came to the determined resolution either to carry her by boarding, or to submit to her. at day-break, i accordingly ordered twenty men in our yawl to lay her athwart hawse, while i proposed to board her from the bark; but, just as we were on the point of making the attempt, a gale sprung up, and she went away from us. we learnt afterwards that she was the _margaretta_, having formerly been a privateer from st malo, mounting forty guns. in the several skirmishes, we had none killed, except gilbert henderson our gunner. three were wounded, mr brooks being shot through the thigh, mr coldsea in the groin, and one of the crew in the small of the back. mr coldsea lingered in a miserable condition for nine or ten months, but at length recovered. we were now in a worse condition than ever, and the sea being too rough for our uncomfortable vessel, i proposed to stand to the north to get into fairer weather, but to take coquimbo in our way, to try what might be done there. this was agreed to; but the very morning in which we expected to have got into coquimbo, a hard gale of wind sprung up, which lasted four days, during which we every hour expected to founder, being obliged to scud under bare poles, with our yawl in tow, and having only a very short rope for her. this storm so frightened many of our people, that they resolved to go ashore at the first place they could find. at length, calling to mind the account given by frezier of the island of _iquique_, i mentioned the surprisal of that place, being but a small lieutenancy, where we might probably get some wholesome provisions, and a better vessel. this was approved, and the sun again shining, so that we lay dry, we acquired fresh vigour, and directed our course for that island. next evening we saw the island, which seemed merely a high white rock, at the foot of the high land of _carapucho_. our boat set off for the island about sun-set, and had like to have been lost among the breakers. at length they heard the barking of dogs, and saw the light of some candles; but, aware of the danger of landing in the dark, they made fast their boat to a float of weeds for want of a grapnel, and waited till day-light. they then rowed in between the rocks, and were ignorantly welcomed on shore by some indians. going to the house of the lieutenant, they broke open the door, and rummaged it and the village, finding a booty more valuable to us in our present situation than gold or silver. this consisted of bushels of wheat flour, of calavanses and corn, some jerked beef, mutton, and pork, a thousand weight of well-cured fish, four or five days eating of soft bread, and five or six jars of peruvian wine and brandy, besides a good number of fowls and some rusk. they had also the good fortune to find a boat to bring off their plunder, which otherwise had been of little use to us, as our own boat was fully laden with men. in the mean time, we in the bark were carried away by the current to the northward, out of sight of the island; and as they had not loaded their boats till the height of the day, they had a laborious task to row off, being very heavily laden. we were under melancholy apprehensions, fearing that our people might have remained on shore and deserted us; but towards evening we perceived two boats coming fast towards us, as heavily laden as they could be with safety. words cannot express our joy when they came aboard. the scene was now changed from famine to plenty. the loaves of soft bread were distributed, and the jars of wine broached: but i took care they should drink of it moderately, allowing each man no more than half a pint a-day. after living a day or two on wholesome food, we wondered how our stomachs could receive and digest the rank nauseous congers fried in train-oil, and could hardly believe we had lived on nothing else for a month past. i was assured by my second lieutenant, who commanded the boat on this occasion, that the indians seemed rather pleased at our plundering the spaniards; so natural is it for bad masters to find enemies in their servants. the _island of iquique_ is in the lat. of ° ' s.[ ] about a mile from the main land, and only about a mile and a half in circuit, the channel between it and the coast of peru being full of rocks. it is of moderate height, and the surface consists mostly of cormorant's dung, which is so very white that places covered with it appear at a distance like chalk cliffs. its smell is very offensive, yet it produces considerable gain, as several ships load here with it every year for arica, where it is used as manure for growing capsicums. the only inhabitants of this island are negro slaves, who gather this dung into large heaps near the shore, ready for boats to take it off. the village where the lieutenant resides, and which our people plundered, is on the main land close by the sea, and consists of about sixty scattered ill-built houses, or huts rather, and a small church. there is not the smallest verdure to be seen about it, neither does its neighbourhood afford even the smallest necessary of life, not even water, which the inhabitants have to bring in boats from the _quebrada_, or breach of _pisagua_, ten leagues to the northward; wherefore, being so miserable a place, the advantage derived from the _guana_ or cormorant's dung seems the only inducement for its being inhabited. to be at some distance from the excessively offensive stench of the dung, they have built their wretched habitations on the main, in a most hideous situation, and still even too near the guana, the vapours from which are even there very bad, yet not quite so suffocating as on the island. the sea here affords abundance of excellent fish, some kinds of which i had never before seen; one of them resembling a large silver eel, but much thicker in proportion. the inhabitants of this desolate and forbidding place cure these fish in a very cleanly manner, and export large quantities of them by the vessels which come for the guana. [footnote : there is no island on the coast of peru in that latitude. iquique is a town on the main land, about thirty miles from the sea. the islands called _los patillos_, or the claws, are near the coast, in lat. ° ' s. and probably one of these may have got the name of _iquique_, as being under the jurisdiction of that town. the mountain carapacha of the text, is probably the hills of tarapaca of our maps.--e.] we were informed by two indian prisoners, that the lieutenant of iquique had a boat at pisagua for water, of which we began to be in need, for which reason i sent mr randal in search of her. he failed in this object, but brought off a few bladders full of water, and three or four _balsas_, very artificially sewed and filled with wind, which are used for landing on this dangerous coast. on these the rower sits across, using a double paddle; and as the wind escapes from the skin bags, he has a contrivance for supplying the deficiency. these are the chief embarkations used by the fishermen, and are found very serviceable for landing on this coast, which has hardly a smooth beach from one end of it to the other. we intended to have looked into the port of arica, but heard there was a ship there of force, on which we continued our course to the northwards to la nasca. off that port we met a large ship about two hours before day, and though we rowed very hard, it was ten o'clock before we got up with her. after a brisk dispute of six or seven hours, we were obliged to leave her, in consequence of the sea-breeze coming in very strong. she was called the francisco palacio, of tons, guns, and patereroes, with a great number of men, and well provided with small arms; but was so deeply laden that, in rolling, the water ran over her deck and out at her scuppers; indeed she had more the appearance of an ill-contrived floating castle, than of a ship, according to the present fashion of europe. thus we had the misfortune, on this forlorn voyage, to meet with the two best equipped and armed private ships at that time in the south sea. in this action we had not above twenty fire-arms that were of any use, owing to the improvidence of our people at juan fernandez; yet were they so impatient of this disappointment, that some of them were for immediately surrendering to the enemy. to prevent this, i ordered four men whom i thought i could trust to take the charge of our two boats; but two of these went away with the best boat, and my first lieutenant and morphew plotted to have gone away with the other, but were hindered by blowing weather, and so weak was my authority that i was forced to dissemble. next day we stood into the road of pisco, where we saw a very fine ship, and resolved immediately to board her; and to our great satisfaction, the captain and his people met us with their hats off, beseeching us to give them quarter. this was a good ship, of about tons, called the jesu maria, almost laden with pitch, tar, copper, and plank, but nothing else. the captain offered , dollars for her ransom, but i could not comply, as the recovery was disabled in her masts in boarding, and also we had now a vessel in which we could at least enjoy cleanliness, which we had been entire strangers to ever since our departure from juan fernandez; wherefore we made all dispatch in getting every thing out of the bark. the spanish captain of the jesu maria informed me, that the margaretta had arrived some time before at calao, where she had given a full account of her rencounter with us; her captain and three men having been killed in the action, and a priest with several others wounded. she was now ready to put to sea again to cruize for us, with the addition of ten guns and fifty men. a frigate of twenty-eight guns, called the flying-fish, was already out with the same intention; and advice had been sent respecting us along the coast, both to the north and south, with orders to equip what strength there was to catch us. all night, the people of pisco were on the alert, continually firing guns, to give us an earnest of what we were to expect if we attempted to land, but we had no such intention. having cleared our bark next morning, we gave her to the spanish captain of the jesu maria; and as soon as the breeze sprung up, we weighed and stood to sea. while going out, we met our own boat with the two men who had deserted us, and who now edged down upon us, imagining we had been spaniards. the two fellows were almost dead, having neither eat nor drank for three days, and had just been ashore on a small island near the harbour of pisco, to kill some seals that they might drink their blood. their only excuse for leaving us was, that they had fallen asleep, during which the breeze had wafted our bark away from them. we had only a transient view of pisco, which seemed pleasantly situated among orchards and vineyards. we proceeded along the coast very cautiously, knowing that we were almost in the mouths of our enemies, and that the least act of indiscretion might throw us into their hands. we ventured, however, to look into the roads of guanchaco, malabriga, and cheripe, where we saw no shipping, after which we passed through between the island of _lobos de tierra_ and the continent. being near the _saddle_ of payta on the th november, i thought of surprising that place in the night, though our force was much diminished since our last attack; but as it grew calm while we were endeavouring to get into the harbour, we thought it better to delay till morning, as our vessel being spanish would deceive the inhabitants, and prevent them from suspecting us. in the morning, being observed from the shore making many short trips to gain ground to windward, the spaniards sent off a large boat full of men to assist in bringing in our ship, and to enquire the news. seeing them making towards us, i ordered none of our men to appear but such as had dark complexions and wore spanish dresses, standing ready to answer such questions as they might ask in hailing, and to give them a rope when they clapped us on board. some of our men also were concealed under our gunwales, with their muskets ready to point into the boat, to command them to make her fast, and this stratagem succeeded. i examined the prisoners as to the condition of the town, which they assured me was then extremely poor, having neither money nor provisions, and shewed me a small bark on shore, lately sent in by captain clipperton with some of his prisoners, on the arrival of which every thing of value had been removed into the country. yet we held on our way with spanish colours flying, and came to the anchorage. as soon as we were anchored, i sent mr brooks to attack the town with twenty-four men, only those who rowed appearing, and the rest with their arms lying in the bottom of the boats; so that when they landed, they even found the children playing on the beach. these took the alarm immediately, and ran away on seeing our armed men. in an instant the whole place was in confusion, and happy were they who could escape, the town being left destitute, and they were too nimble to be overtaken. our party ransacked payta, but found it as poor as our prisoners reported; so that they only found a few bales of coarse cloth, about five hundred-weight of dried dog-fish, two or three pedlars packs, and an inconsiderable quantity of bread and sweetmeats. we had better fortune while at anchor, as we took a vessel in which were about fifty jars of peruvian wine and brandy; her master having come by stealth from calao, where orders had been given, that none but ships of force should venture to sea. my people in the town were in no haste to re-embark, and when it grew dark, some of the spaniards began to assemble, and learning that there were only eighteen english in the town, came down the hills with great boldness. at first our people took refuge in the largest church, meaning to have defended themselves there; but at length they marched out, formed in a line, and kept beating their drum; and one of them having fired a musket, the spaniards hastily retreated, and our men embarked without any more alarm. from payta we directed our course for the island of gorgona, in the bay of panama, and in our passage to that place built a tank or wooden cistern in our vessel, sufficient to contain ten tons of water. in our way we made the island of plata, cape st francisco, gorgonella, or little gorgona, and on the d of december arrived at the island of gorgona. we had here the advantage of being able to fill our watercasks in the boat, the water running in small streams from the rocks into the sea, and we cut our wood for fuel close to high-water mark; so that in less than forty-eight hours we completed our business, and hurried away for fear of those vessels which we understood had been sent in search of us. having got out of the track of the enemy's ships, we consulted as to the properest manner of proceeding, when the majority were for going directly for india. upon this we changed the name of our vessel, from the jesu maria to the happy-return, and used our best endeavours to get off from the coast of america. the winds and currents were however contrary, and some of our people who were adverse to this plan did some secret damage to our tank, so that the greatest part of our water leaked out. owing to this, and our provisions being much exhausted by long delays from contrary winds or dead calms, we were incapable of attempting so long a run: wherefore, on purpose to procure what we wanted, i proposed making a descent on realejo, on the coast of mexico, in ° ' [ ° ' n.] in our way thither, we fell in with cape burica, in ° ' [_exactly_ ° n.] and then, on second thoughts, i judged it might be safer to make an attempt on the island of quibo, in lat. ° ' n. where, according to the account given by captain rogers. i guessed there were inhabitants, who lived plentifully on the produce of their island. on the st january, , we entered the channel between the islands of _quibo_ and _quivetta_, in lat. ° ' n. in twenty fathoms water, and anchored opposite a sandy bay, which promised to afford convenience for wooding and watering. sending our boat to view the bay, my people reported that there was a good close harbour a little to the south, but no signs of inhabitants, except three or four huts by the shore, which they supposed had formerly been used by pearl-fishers, as there were great quantities of mother-of-pearl-shells scattered about these huts. on attentive consideration, i resolved not to shut up our vessel in a close harbour, for fear of bad consequences, and remained therefore at anchor in the open channel. at day-break next morning, we saw two large boats under spanish colours, rowing in for quivetta, which gave me some apprehensions they had some intelligence of us, and intended an attack. the mulattoes on the coast of mexico are remarkable for their courage, and have sometimes done very bold actions, even in such paltry vessels as these we now saw: these, however, steered into a small cove on the island of quivetta, which satisfied us they had no intentions to attack us. i now sent mr brooks in our yawl to attack them, when he found them all ashore, and brought away their piraguas with two prisoners, a negro and a mulatto, the rest taking refuge in the woods. we took all their provisions, consisting of a small quantity of pork, with plantains, some green, some ripe, and some dried. of this last there was a considerable quantity, which, on being pounded, made a pleasant-tasted flour, indifferently white, and supplied us with bread for a month. the mulatto mortified us greatly by telling us that a vessel laden with provisions had passed near us in the night, but promised to bring us to a place where we might supply ourselves without hazard, provided we were not above two or three days about it, wherefore we made all possible dispatch in getting in our wood and water. we weighed from this place on the th january, steering for _mariato_, being the westernmost point of the gulf of st martin. in going out from the channel of quibo, we were in imminent danger of being forced by the current upon two rocks at a small distance from each other, off the northern point of quivetta; but having cleared them, we steered through _canal bueno_, or the good channel, so called from its safety, being free from rocks or shoals. over against the south entrance of these straits, at the distance of a league from point mariato, is the island of cebaco, in my opinion about ten leagues in circumference. i ran along the south end of that island, and in the evening of the th got safe in between it and point mariato, and anchored in six fathoms, over against a green field, being the only clear spot thereabout. our pilot advised us to land about three hours before day, when we should be in good time for the plantations. accordingly, i went at two in the morning in our own boat, the two lieutenants being in the two piraguas, and left my son with a few hands to take care of the ship. our pilot carried us a little way up the river of st martin, and out of that through several branches or narrow creeks, among groves of trees, so close that we had not room to row. not approving of this navigation, i kept a watchful eye on our guide, suspecting he had no good design in his head. we landed just at day-break, in a fine plain, or savannah; and, after a march of three miles, came to two farm-houses, whence the inhabitants made their escape, except the wife and children belonging to one of them. we had the satisfaction of seeing that this place answered the description given by our guide, being surrounded by numerous flocks of black cattle, with plenty of hogs, and fowls of several sorts, together with some dried beef; plantains, and maize; and, in the mean time, we had a breakfast of hot cakes and milk. when it was broad day, i saw our ship close by us, on which i asked our guide, why he had brought us so far about? when he said there was a river between us and the shore, and he was not sure if it were fordable. i therefore sent some to try, who found it only knee deep, on which, to avoid carrying our plunder so far by land, i ordered our boats to leave the river of st martin, and to row to the beach over against the ship. we had not been long at the farmhouse till the master of the family came to us, bringing several horses with him, and offering to serve us as far as he could. this offer we kindly accepted, and we employed him to carry every thing we thought fit to our boats. he then went among his black cattle, and brought us as many as we thought we could cure, as we had but little salt, and could not afford water to keep them alive at sea, so that we killed them as soon as they came on board. we preserved them by cutting their flesh into long slips, about the thickness of one's finger, and then sprinkled them with a small quantity of salt, not using more than four or five pounds to the hundred-weight. after lying two or three hours in the salt, we hung it up to dry in the sun for two or three days, which perfectly cured it, much better than could have been done by any quantity of the best salt. having thus procured all we proposed at this place, we departed from thence nest morning, having our decks full of fowls and hogs, among the latter of which was one having its navel on its back.[ ] the spaniards say that this animal, although but small even at its full growth, is a terrible creature to meet wild in the woods. returning through the _canal bueno_, we stopt at quibo to complete our water; and on leaving that island, gave the largest piragua to our two prisoners, to enable those who were on the island of quivetta to return home. the wine and brandy we had lately taken had the effect of dividing my ship's company into two parties, those who were formerly so firmly united being now inveterate enemies; insomuch, that in one night the ringleaders of both have solicited me to espouse their cause, assuring me that the other party had a design on my life, and urging me to murder those who were of the opposite faction. it is wonderful how this evil was diverted, as i could use no other means than calm advice on both sides, and it was utterly out of my power to hinder them from getting drunk as often as they pleased; in which condition they often fell all to skirmishing with each other, and i had more than once my clothes almost torn off my back in endeavouring to part them. it was happy this trade of drinking did not last long, as, while the liquor lasted, i found it was unsafe to lay my head on my pillow, which almost wearied me out of my life. their free access to the liquor shortened the term of this miserable folly, by soon expending the baneful cause. the necessities of hunger obliged them to act jointly and vigorously at mariato; but they soon relapsed again, and were as distracted as ever so long as the liquor lasted. my land as well as sea-officers were now obliged to learn to steer, and to take their turns at the helm with the seamen, such being the pass to which they had brought themselves by sinking my authority, that they had lost their own, and were even in a worse condition than i; as the crew had, for their own sakes, to have recourse to me on all emergencies, obeying me punctually while these lasted, and abusing me plentifully when these were over. [footnote : the pecary, tajacu, or mexican hog, the sus tajapin of naturalists, is here meant, which is an indigenous animal of the warmer parts of america, and is found in one of the west india islands. it has no tail, and is particularly distinguished by an open glandular orifice on the hinder part of the back, which discharges a fetid unctuous liquid; and which orifice has been vulgarly mistaken for the navel.--e.] on the th january, we discovered a sail in the morning, about two leagues to leeward, to which we gave chase for some time; but seeing she was europe-built, and fearing she might be a man of war belonging to the enemy, i hauled on a wind, and in half an hour it fell dead calm. we soon after saw a boat rowing towards us, which proved the pinnace of our consort the success, commanded by her first lieutenant, mr davison. this was a most unexpected meeting to us both, mr davison being surprised to find me in such a condition, and i no less so to find the success in these seas. i gave him an account of our misfortunes, and of all that had befallen us during the long interval of our separation, and he related all the remarkable incidents that had befallen them. a breeze of wind springing up, i bore down upon the success, and went aboard of her; when i gave captain clipperton, and mr godfrey, our agent-general, the whole history of my voyage, expecting to have been treated by them as belonging to the same interest, but found them unwilling to have any thing to do with me, now that my ship was lost. i trusted, however, that captain clipperton would let me have such necessaries as he could spare, on which he said, i should know more of his mind next day. among other discourses, he told me that he was just come from the island of _cocos_, his people very sickly, and on short allowance. i then offered my service to pilot him to mariato, which was not above thirty leagues distant, where he might have refreshed his company, and supplied his wants; but he was resolved to make the best of his way for the _tres marias_, where he said there was plenty of turtle to be had, and so i left him for the night. next morning, as i was going again on board the success with some of my officers, captain clipperton spread all his canvass, and crowded away from us. on this i returned to my ship, fired several guns, and made signals of distress, which were not regarded by him, till his officers exclaimed against his barbarity, and at last he brought to. when i had again got up with him, i sent mr brooks to know the reason of his abrupt departure, and to request the supply of several necessaries, which i was willing to pay for. on these terms, he spared me two of his quarter-deck guns, sixty round shot, some musket-balls and flints, a spanish chart of the coast of mexico, with part of china and india, a half-hour glass and half-minute glass, a compass, and about three hundred-weight of salt: but all my arguments could not prevail with him to let me have any thing out of his medicine-chest for mr coldsea, who was still very ill of his wound. for what we now had from the success, we returned some bales of coarse broad-cloth, as much pitch and tar as he would have, and some pigs of copper: i gave him also a large silver-ladle for a dozen _spadoen_, or spanish swords. this being concluded, i offered my services, assuring him i had a pretty good ship, and that our cargo was of some value: to this he answered, if my cargo were gold, he had no business with me, and i must take care of myself. mr hendric, our agent, mr rainer, and mr dodd, our lieutenant of marines, weary of the hard work imposed upon them, desired my leave to go on board the success, which i consented to, and captain clipperton left us to shift for ourselves, being now near the island of cano. i was now for returning southwards, to try our fortunes in the bay of panama, but the majority opposed me through fear, insisting to go to the tres marias, to salt turtle at these islands, and then to stretch over for india. we accordingly directed our coarse that way, but as the wind near the land continued in the west, and the coast of mexico trended nearly n.w. by w. we crept so slowly to windward, that we began to be very short of provisions before we got the length of realijo, on which our design of landing there was renewed; but this intention was soon frustrated, as we were blown past that place by a _tequante peque_, for so the spaniards on this coast call a violent gale at n.e. as we continued our voyage along shore, we again fell in with the success, then in quest of _sonsonate_, expecting there to receive the ransom of the marquis of _villa roche_ who had been some time a prisoner on board. we ranged close under her stern, and asked how captain clipperton and the rest of the gentlemen did, but received no answer, and the success steered one way, while we went another. after this, calms, contrary winds, and unaccountable currents, so delayed our proceedings, that were reduced to a very short allowance, which we were forced to diminish daily, and had been reduced to very great distress, had we not from time to time found turtle floating on the surface of the sea, for which we kept a good look-out, being able to discover them even at great distances, by the sea-birds perching on their backs. on sight of these, we were forced often to forego taking advantage of the wind; and, besides often losing some of our way in pursuit of them, they had still a worse effect, as dressing them occasioned a great consumption of our water. being now threatened with almost certain perdition if means were not fallen upon to avoid a state of absolute famine, i proposed that we should attempt to plunder some small town as we coasted along shore. at this time _guotalco_ was the nearest port; but, as we were standing in for it, we saw a sail a considerable way to leeward, which we considered more proper for us to endeavour to capture than to venture on shore, for which purpose we bore down upon her, which proved to be the success. when sufficiently near, i made the private signal formerly concerted between us, but captain clipperton hauled his wind, and did not lie by a moment for us to get up with him. we were now so for to leeward of guatalco, that it was in vain to beat up for that port, especially on an uncertainty. we were now reduced to a small daily allowance of calavances, which not being sufficient to keep us alive, we had recourse to the remainder of our smoked congers which had been neglected for some months, and had been soaking and rotting in the bilge-water, so that they were now as disgusting food as could be. under these calamitous circumstances, we again met the success near port _angels_, in lat. ° ' n. long. ° ' w. having exchanged signals, we stood so near each other that a biscuit might have been chucked aboard, yet did not exchange a word, as clipperton had ordered his officers and ship's company to take no notice of us: yet was captain clipperton so sensible of the difficulties and hazards we had to encounter in our design of going for india, that he said the child just born would be grey-haired before we should arrive there. we were now in a most miserable situation, wandering upon an inhospitable coast in want of every thing, and all the land we had seen was so wild and open to the sea, that it would have been impossible for us to have landed any where, and nothing could have urged us to make the attempt but the extreme want we were now in. on the th march, being off the port of acapulco towards evening, we saw a ship between us and the shore, which turned out to be the success, when clipperton not only answered my private signal, but also that for speaking with me. after his late inhumane behaviour, i would hardly have trusted him, had we not been so near acapulco, where i thought he meant to cruize for the manilla ships, and now wished to have our assistance, wherefore i bore down alongside. he now sent his second lieutenant, captain cooke, with a very obliging letter to me, stating that he was cruizing for the homeward-bound manilla ships, and desired me to assist him in the enterprise, with which view he desired me to come on board next morning, to consult on the best plan of attacking her, and proposed an union of the two companies. i was well pleased at this offer, and returned an answer that i should be with him early. i then read his letter to my people, who all expressed their readiness to join in the enterprise; but, as clipperton had used us so unhandsomely, they desired me to have some security for their shares, signed by clipperton, godfrey the agent, and the rest of the officers in the success. i went aboard the success next morning, accompanied by brooks and randal, my lieutenants, and was received with much apparent civility, all animosities being forgotten, and we seemed now in the most perfect harmony. i first told captain clipperton and mr godfrey of the paper expected by my officers and men, entitling them to such shares as were allowed by the original articles, to which they readily consented, and drew up an instrument fully answerable to what my people desired. we then proceeded to our consultation, when it was agreed that i should send most of my people on board the success as soon as the manilla ship appeared, leaving only a boat's crew with me to bring me away in case i should have an opportunity to use my vessel as a fire-ship, or smoker, in case she should prove too hard for the success. we also determined to board her at once, as otherwise we should have much the worst of the contest, owing to her superior weight of metal, and her better ability to bear a cannonade. clipperton assured me he was certain of the time this ship was to sail from acapulco, being always within a day or two after passion-week, of which time a fortnight was yet to come. before returning to my own ship, i informed captain clipperton of our scarcity of water, when he told me he had eighty tons, and would spare me as much as i wanted, or any thing else his ship afforded. i had now the pleasure of enjoying my command as fully as ever, and my whole remaining crew, from the highest to the lowest, expressed their satisfaction at our present prospects. morphew, the ringleader of all our disorders, fearing my resentment might fall heavily on him, contrived to insinuate himself into the favour of the captain and officers of the success, by a submissive deportment, and presents, and, in the end, left me on the th march, being received on board that ship. on the th, mr rainer came on board my ship, to visit his old ship-mates, and staid all night. i constantly reminded clipperton of our want of water, and he as often promised to supply us with a large quantity at once. we thus continued to cruize in good order, and with great hopes, till the th march, when i had to suffer the most prodigious piece of treachery that could be imagined. we used to cruize off and on, at a convenient distance from the shore, so as not to be discovered from the land, yet so that it was impossible for any ship to leave the port of acapulco without being seen by us. as my ship did not sail so well as the success, clipperton used to shorten sail, particularly at night, and shewed us lights on all necessary occasions. towards evening of that day, he stretched about two leagues a-head of us, and i could not see that he lowered even a topgallant-sail for us to come up with him. i kept standing after him however, till almost a-shore on the breakers, when i had to tack and stand out to sea. next morning no ship was to be seen, which reduced us to the most terrible apprehensions, considering our sad situation for want of water, and our vast distance from any place where we could expect to procure any, as we had now no other choice but either to beat up leagues to the _tres marias_, or to bear away for the gulf of amapala, at a much greater distance. i was afterwards informed, by some of clipperton's officers, whom i met with in china, that he had done this cruel action absolutely against the repeated remonstrances of his officers, who abhorred such an act of barbarity. i also learnt afterwards, by some spaniards from manilla, that the acapulco ship sailed about a week after we desisted from cruizing for her. this ship was the _santo christo_, carrying upwards of forty brass guns, and was exceedingly rich. in the sad situation we were now reduced to, every thing was to be hazarded, and any experiment tried that promised the smallest chance of success. we continued our course therefore, under terrible inconveniences, distressed for water and provisions, and weak in point of number; yet so far from being united by our common danger, that our people could not be restrained within the bounds of common civility. the winds and weather being favourable, we found ourselves before the port of _sansonate_ [ ] on the th march, about sun-set, when we discovered a ship of good size at anchor in the harbour. being a fine moonlight evening, i sent my first lieutenant in the yawl, with some of our best hands, to see what she was. soon afterwards we heard some guns fired, and on the return of the lieutenant, he reported that she was a stout ship, having at least one tier of guns. little regarding her apparent strength, or our own weakness, as we thought our necessities made us a match for her, we continued plying in all night, and prepared to engage her. at sun-rise the land-breeze blew so fresh from the shore, that we worked in but slowly; and in the mean time we received all their fire on every board we made, but without returning a single shot. their boat also was employed in bringing off soldiers from the shore, to reinforce their ship; and they hung up a jar of about ten gallons of powder, with a match, at each main and fore-yard-arm, and at the bowsprit end, to let fall on our deck, in case we boarded them, which contrivance, if it had taken effect, would have made an end of both ships, and all that were in them. seeing them so desperate in their preparations, i could not but expect a warm reception; but as our case would not admit of delay, at ever so hazardous a rate, we were not to be dismayed. about eleven in the forenoon the sea-breeze set in, and, to make our small force as available as might be, i ordered all our three guns to be placed on that side from which we were likely to engage. as the sea-breeze freshened we ran fast towards them, during which our small arms were effectually employed to break their powder-jars before we should board them, which we did without delay, and they submitted after exchanging a few shots. [footnote : the port of aeazualte, at the mouth of the river samsonate, in the province of that name.--e.] this ship was named the _sacra familia_, of tons, six guns, and seventy men, having a great many small arms, shot, and hand-granades. she had arrived some time before from calao, with wine and brandy; but had now nothing on board except fifty jars of gunpowder, a small quantity of rusk, and some jerked beef; so that she was hardly worth the risk and trouble of capture. but as she had the character of sailing better, and was much better fitted than our ship, i resolved to exchange ships, and we all went aboard the prize, which had been fitted out in warlike manner, and commissioned, for the express purpose of taking us, if we chanced to fall in her way. to do justice to my people, our small arms were handled with much dexterity on this occasion; but, having been chiefly directed at the powder-jars, the only person killed on board the prize was the boatswain, and one person slightly wounded; while on our side no damage was sustained. a merchant, made prisoner at this time, seemed inclined to purchase the _jesu maria_, which we had quitted; and hearing her cargo consisted of pitch, tar, and copper, he consented to my demands, and went ashore to raise the sum agreed upon. we had so few provisions, that we could not afford to keep any prisoners, and therefore dismissed all the whites, indians, and others, except some negroes, whom we detained to assist in working the ship: and, that we might lose as little time as possible, we set immediately to work, overhauling our sails and rigging, that we might get our new ship ready for sea. while thus employed, i received a letter from the governor of the place, which none of us could understand; but learnt by the messenger, that it intimated some account of a truce concluded between the crowns of britain and spain, and that the governor requested me to stay five days, that he might satisfy me by shewing me the articles of accommodation. i thought this odd, telling the spanish gentleman i had not met with a friendly or peaceable reception; asking him why they had thus armed themselves in so desperate a manner, and why the governor had not rather sent me a flag of truce in the morning before we engaged, giving me this intimation? saying also, if this story were true, we ought to have found the alleged intelligence on board the prize, as she came from lima, whence they pretended the news came. it was likewise extraordinary, that none of the officers in the prize should know any thing of the matter: yet i had so great a regard for even the name of peace, that i would wait fifteen days, if the governor would supply us with provisions and water, otherwise i would not consent to stay twenty-four hours. i sent also a short answer to the governor, excusing our imperfect knowledge of the spanish language. in this letter i stated if peace were actually concluded between our sovereigns, that i was ready to act as he desired, on due proof; and hoped, as we were now friends, that he would allow us to have refreshments from his port. on receipt of this, the governor expressed great satisfaction, and seemed to make no difficulty in complying with my request. our boats went therefore ashore every morning, under a flag of truce, and we received for the first four days eight small jars of water daily. on the fifth day they reduced us to five jars, and during the whole time only one small cow was sent us. on this occasion a boat came off full of men, among whom were two priests, who brought with them a paper in spanish, which they called the articles of peace; but so wretchedly written and blotted, that we should have been puzzled to read it, had it even been in english. i therefore desired the priests to translate it into latin, which they promised to do, and took the paper with them. they also told me, that the governor meant to send for some englishmen who lived at guatimala, if i would continue three days longer in the road; to which i answered, that he might take his own time. two days after, on our boat going ashore as usual, the governor ordered her and her crew to be seized. i was all day in suspence, not imagining the governor would make such a breach of the law of nations; but in the evening two of the boat's crew came off in an old leaky canoe, bringing a letter from the governor, and another from mr brooks, my first lieutenant, who was one of the prisoners. the governor required me to deliver up the _sacra familia_, and that we should all surrender, otherwise he would declare us pirates; and mr brooks told me he believed the governor meant to bully me. the governor proposed two ways for conveying us from the spanish dominions, one of which was by vera cruz overland, and the other by sea to lima. but i liked neither of these, not chusing a journey of miles at least through a country inhabited by a barbarous people, nor yet a voyage to lima under their guidance. my two men told me, that frederick mackenzie had let the governor into the secret of our necessities, and of my design of procuring water at the island of tigers, in the gulf of amapala, which he said he would take care to prevent, and believed he now had us safe enough, knowing our only boat remaining was a small canoe. my two men who brought these letters offering their service, and a third volunteering to accompany them, to bale out the water from their wretched canoe, i sent a letter in french to the governor, offering, if i could be assured of a safe conduct for ourselves and effects to panama, and thence by way of portobello to one of the british colonies, we would enter into a farther treaty, which he might signify, if he meant to comply, by firing two guns, and by sending off my people with the usual supply; otherwise necessity would compel us to sail that night. receiving no reply whatever, i weighed before day next morning, and made sail, leaving the jesu maria behind, a much more valuable ship than the one i took away. on going to sea, we reduced ourselves to a pint of-water in the twenty-four hours, and directed our course for the gulf of amapala, about thirty-five leagues s.s.e. [ ] meaning to water there on the island of tigers. the loss of my officer and boat's crew sensibly diminished the number of white faces among us, and so lessened our strength, that we should never have been able to manage this great ship, with her heavy cotton sails, but for our negro prisoners, who proved to be very good sailors. the loss of our boat was a great inconvenience to us; but as i meant only to provide water enough to serve us to panama, where we were determined to surrender ourselves, if it were really peace, i thought we might contrive to get such a quantity of water as might suffice, in two or three days, by means of our canoe. the winds being favourable, we reached the gulf in ten days, but we could find no water, after an anxious and hazardous search. surrounded on all sides with the most discouraging difficulties, we weighed anchor again on the th of april, when i brought our people to a resolution not to surrender on any account, let the consequence be what it might. we had not now forty gallons of water in the ship, and no other liquids, when we came to an allowance of half a pint each for twenty-four hours, even this being too large, considering we could get none nearer than the island of quibo, which was about leagues from the gulf of amapala, and we were forty-three in number, including our negroes. [footnote : about forty-two marine leagues e.s.e.] we accordingly steered for quibo, having very uncertain winds and variable weather, and were thirteen days on this short allowance. no one who has not experienced it can conceive our sufferings in this sultry climate, by the perpetual extremity of thirst, which would not permit us to eat an ounce of victuals in a day. we even drank our urine, which moistened our mouths indeed, but excited our thirst the more. some even drank large draughts of sea-water, which had like to have killed them. [ ] on the th april we came to the island of _cano_, in lat. ° ' n. which, by the verdure, promised to yield us water, if our canoe could get on shore. in this hope we came to anchor off the north-west side of this island, when it was as much as we could do to hand our sails, stop our cable, and execute the other necessary labours, so greatly were we reduced. we imagined we could see a run of water, yet dreaded the dangerous surf which broke all round those parts of the island we could see. mr randal was sent with some jars, to try what could be done; and as he did not appear again when very late at night, i became apprehensive he was either lost, or, not finding water on the island, had gone in search of it to the continent. at length he came back, with his jars filled, and any one may guess our unspeakable joy on being thus opportunely delivered from the jaws of death. he did not bring above sixty or seventy gallons, and i was at great pains to restrain my men from using it immoderately, allowing only a quart to be distributed immediately to each man. what made me the more strict on this occasion was, that mr randal assured me we should hardly get any more, the breakers were so very dangerous. that very night we chanced to have a shower of rain, on which we used every expedient for catching it, in sheets, blankets, and sails. during our long thirst we had continually wished for rainy weather, and had often good reason to expect it, by seeing many louring black clouds, which seemed every minute ready to discharge their burdens, yet never did before to any purpose. next day i sent our boatswain to make another essay; but after going round the whole island, and wasting the entire day in search of a smooth beach, he could not see a single spot where he might venture on shore. thinking we had a sufficient stock to carry us to quibo, we weighed next day; and while ranging near the island, we saw a smooth beach, on which i sent our canoe again, which brought back nine jars full of water. [footnote : it may not be improper to state, that in such extremity for want of water, great relief has been experienced by remaining immersed for some time in the sea; the lymphatics of the skin absorbing water to supply and relieve the system very materially.--e.] we now pursued our course to the s.e. and arrived in a few days at quibo, anchoring at the same place where we had been formerly. we pursued our business of wooding and watering at this island with tolerable chearfulness, yet without any great hurry; chiefly because we were now within eighty leagues of panama, and it was requisite for us to deliberate very seriously on our scheme of surrendering to the spaniards. we considered panama as well calculated for treating on this subject, not being any way strong towards the sea; and as we had a good ship, we thought it no difficult matter to settle the terms of our surrender, before giving ourselves into their hands. we also reckoned on some assistance from the factors of the south sea company, resident there, who, in case a peace were actually concluded in europe, might intercede for us, and procure us a passage for europe. yet as there was something extremely disagreeable in the idea of a surrender, especially to such enemies as the spaniards, we were in no great hurry, particularly as we were here somewhat at our ease, enjoying many conveniences to which we had long been strangers. the free use we made of the excellent fruits growing on this island brought the flux among us, which weakened us very much, and interrupted our work for some days, yet in the main did us little hurt, or rather tended to preserve us from the scurvy. we deliberated and consulted as to our future conduct; but our views were so discordant, and our minds so distracted, that we could come to no resolution, except that of continuing here, in hopes of something happening to our advantage. the island of _quibo_ or _coibo_ is almost in the same parallel with panama, [ ] being about twenty-four english miles from n. to s. and twelve from e. to w. it is of moderate height, covered all over with inaccessible woods, always green; and, though never inhabited, abounds with papaws and limes, and some other fruits i never saw before, which are nearly as good, though wholly neglected, as those that are most carefully attended to in other islands in similar latitudes, whence it may be inferred that the soil is fertile; and, if ever inhabited and cleared, it promises to be as productive as the best of our west-india islands. the pearl-fishers, not being able to follow their occupation during the _vandevals_, or black stormy months, from the beginning of june to the end of november, have a few scattered huts in several parts of this island and of _quivetta_, used by the divers during their season, in which they sleep and open their oysters, so that the sandy beach is covered with fine mother-of-pearl shells. in wading only to the middle, we could reach large pearl oysters with our hands, which at first pleased us much; but we found them as tough as leather, and quite unpalatable. having no seyne, i can say little about other kinds of fish. we occasionally observed a large kind of flat fish, which often sprung a great way out of the water, which are said to be very destructive to the divers; for, when these return to the surface, unless they take great care, these fish wrap themselves round the divers, and hold them fast till drowned. to guard against this, the divers always carry a sharp-pointed knife, and on seeing any of these fish above them, present the point over their heads, and stick it into the fish's belly. they are also subject to great danger from alligators, which swarm in this part of the sea; and some of us fancied we saw one swimming below the surface near mariato point, only a few leagues from hence. this island has a great variety of birds, also great numbers of black monkeys and guanoes, which last mostly frequent the streams of fresh water. some of these guanoes are of extraordinary size, being of a grey colour with black streaks, those about the head being brown. quibo is a most convenient place for procuring wood and water, as the wood grows in abundance within twenty yards of the sea, and there are several streams of fresh water crossing the beach. [footnote : this is a material error. panama is in lat. ° n. long. ° ' w. while the centre of quibo is in lat. ° ' n. and long. ° ' w. from greenwich.--e.] having got clear of this place, and nothing thought of but our speedy return to europe by surrendering at panama, we met with strong adverse currents, together with calms and contrary winds, by which we were detained for several days under the mountains of _guanachu_. [ ] on the th. may, a small bark bore down upon us, mistaking us for spaniards. she was called the holy sacrament, and came last from cheriqui, laden with dried beef, pork; and live hogs. her master was much surprised at first, but soon recovered on being told we were bound for panama, and readily offered to pilot us thither, as he was bound for that port; and begged us to take his bark in tow, as he could not fetch the land, and his hogs were almost dead for want of water, while his vessel was ready to sink, being so leaky that his people were no longer able to stand to the pumps. i took her in tow, sending some of my people to assist in pumping the bark, and even spared some water and maize for supplying the hogs. the master came on board of my ship, but had heard no news of any peace or truce between britain and spain. [footnote : perhaps the sierra de canataqua are here meant, which pervade the country between montijo bay and the bay of panama, ending in point mariato, of which they seem to have been detained.--e.] it may seem strange that this opportunity of supplying ourselves with provisions made no change in our plans; but every one of us was so worn out by a continual want of all necessaries, and so disheartened by a perpetual succession of misfortunes, that we were tired of the sea, and willing to embrace any opportunity of getting ashore, almost at any rate. i was rejoiced at this bark having fallen into our hands; because, if we found the story of the governor of sansonate false, we might be thoroughly enabled to go to india, with this help. to ascertain this, i meant to anchor a great way short of panama, keeping possession of the bark, in case the president might not agree to safe and honourable terms, when we still had it in our power to redress ourselves, by keeping out of his hands. all this while, however, we had not determined who should be the bearer of the flag of truce; for my people, after so much treachery among them, feared that the messenger might only make terms for himself with the governor, and not return again: wherefore, my son was chosen as the fittest person for the purpose, as being sure of his return, for my sake. on the th another bark came down upon us, but after coming pretty near, sheared off; on which i sent mr randal in our canoe, to inform them of our design, but they hoisted spanish colours on his approach, and fired at him. next morning we looked into the bay, where we found this bark at anchor, but she renewed her fire on our approach. on this, at his own request, i sent the master of the holy sacrament in a canoe, with four negroes and a flag of truce, to inform the people in the other bark of our intentions. a gale of wind interrupted this plan, and forced the canoe on shore, i dare say without danger to their lives, as they seemed to land of choice. on the th we saw a sail ahead of us standing along shore, on which we let go the bark we had in tow, in which were four of our own people and five spaniards, spreading all the sail we could, so that by night we were at a considerable distance from the bark. i was for lying-to all night, for the bark to come up, but the majority insisted we should crowd sail all night, so that by day-break of the th we were within less than gun-shot of the chase. i immediately hoisted our colours, fired a gun to leeward, and sent a man to wave a white flag on our poop, in token of truce: but they continually fired at us, having their decks full of men, who kept hallooing and abusing us with the grossest epithets. still i made no return, till i came close on their quarter, and then sent one of their countrymen to our boltsprit-end, to inform them we were bound for panama, and wished to treat with them peaceably: but the only reply they made was by continuing their fire, calling us _borachos_ and _peros ingleses_, drunkards and english dogs; so that at length i thought it full time to begin with them. i therefore met them with the helm, and soon convinced them of their error, giving them so warm a reception that they soon sheered-off. we just missed catching hold of them, and as it fell calm, we continued to engage her for two or three hours at the distance of musket-shot. a breeze at length sprung up, when we neared them, and their courage subsided in proportion as we approached. their captain still encouraged them to fight, bravely exposing himself in an open manner, till he was at length shot through the body, and dropt down dead; on which they immediately called out for quarter, and thus ended the dispute. we now commanded them to hoist out their launch; but they answered, that their tackle and rigging were so shattered that they could not possibly comply; wherefore i sent mr randall and two or three more in our canoe, who found all her people most submissively asking mercy. mr randall sent the most considerable of the prisoners on board my ship, who informed me their vessel was _la conception de receva_, belonging to calao, but last from guanchaco, of tons burden, laden with flour, loaves of sugar, boxes of marmalade, and jars of preserved peaches, grapes, limes, and such like. she mounted six guns, and carried above seventy men, being one of the ships that had been fitted out and commissioned purposely to take us; so that she was the second of these armed merchantmen we had taken. in this engagement, the spanish captain and one negro were killed, and one or two slightly wounded; but their masts, sails, and rigging were much shattered. on our part, the gunner only was slightly wounded, and a small piece was carried out of the side of our main-mast. we had now above eighty prisoners of all sorts, and not exceeding twenty-six of ourselves. when the spanish gentlemen came off board, they would not give me time to ask the reason of not hearkening to our peaceable offers; but immediately laid the whole blame on their dead captain, don joseph desorio, who vowed he would listen to no terms but his own, and was resolved to take us by force. there were several persons of note among our prisoners, particularly don baltazzar de abarca, conde de la rosa, an european nobleman, who had been governor of pisco on the coast of peru, and was now on his return for spain; also a captain morell, who had been formerly taken by captain rogers; and several others. we treated them all with the utmost civility, at which they wondered; because, from prejudice against our cruizers, and conviction of their own harsh behaviour towards their prisoners, they expected to have been dealt with very roughly. in the situation where we now lay, we were in the track of all the ships bound for panama, not above thirty miles from that place, our numbers being very few, and even part of our crew sick. for these reasons we were as expeditious as possible in examining the contents of our new prize, and removing them into our own ship; and, though the far greater part of the work was done by our prisoners, it took us full two days. owing to this, and to faint winds and calms, we did not rejoin our bark till the d. as we bore down towards her, and came pretty near, we were astonished to see her broach to and fall off again, though all her sails were set; and, what amazed us still more, we could not see any person on her deck. i sent the boat on board, and the officer immediately called out to me, that there was not a man on board, but that all her decks and quarters were covered with blood. by this melancholy appearance, it seemed evident that the spaniards had overpowered and murdered my four men who were sent to assist them, doubtless taking the opportunity of my men being asleep: yet it is probable the murderers lost their own lives; for, being four leagues from land, and having no boat, they probably jumped into the sea on the re-appearance of our ship, thinking to swim to land, and met the death they so justly merited. this tragical affair spoiled the satisfaction we had enjoyed for two days past, on account of our prize, and raised an universal melancholy among us. on seeing this sudden change, our prisoners became much alarmed, looking at each other, as if fearful we might revenge on them the fate of our unhappy companions: and, on my side, i became alarmed lest their dreadful apprehensions might stir them up to some desperate attempt, they being eighty in number, while we were not at this time above seventeen on board, and when altogether only twenty-five that could stand on our legs. i was therefore compelled to appear somewhat stern, in ordering all our prisoners into the stern gallery, except the nobleman and a few of the chiefs, while we kept a strict guard in the great cabin. the spanish gentlemen lamented the murder of our men, and their own hard fate, in having been in some measure witnesses, and let fall some expressions, by which i perceived they were afraid i meant to shew some severities to their people on this occasion. having a good interpreter between us, i assured them i was not of any such revengeful disposition, and besides, that the laws of my country would restrain me, if i were, as i acted by my king's commission, whose orders strictly forbid all acts of inhumanity or oppression towards our prisoners; on which assurance they might rest satisfied of their safety. in reply to this, they begged me to think myself secure, as to themselves and countrymen, now my prisoners, declaring on their honour that they would make no attempt against us, and that they could never make a sufficient return for the generous treatment i had given them. notwithstanding this declaration, i took measures to secure our numerous prisoners of the meaner sort; for which purpose, after taking out of the holy sacrament all her jerked beef that remained fit for use, i placed them in that vessel, under the command of espina, former commander of the conception after the death of desorio. next day, being as willing to get rid of them, as they were to get back their own ship, i took every thing out of the conception that could be of use to us, sufficient for twelve months provisions of bread, flour, sugar, and sweetmeats,[ ] both for ourselves and the success, which we expected to meet with at the tres marias. i took also away her launch and negroes, the latter to assist us in working our ship, not having sufficient strength to manage her in the long run before us of degrees. i then delivered up the conception to espina and the rest, after being three days in our possession: which was not only an act of generosity to our prisoners, but an act of prudence with regard to ourselves. the next great point to be managed, was to get our people to consent to sail so far north as california, previous to our intended voyage to the east indies, for which we were not in so good a condition as we could wish, though much better than before, and even than we had any reason to have expected, every thing considered. we had a good ship, with fifteen guns and sufficient ammunition, together with a reasonable quantity of provisions; but we still wanted to complete our wood and water for so long a voyage, the procuring of which was necessarily our first care. the ship's company were for going to quibo for this purpose, as nearest us, but that place was attended by two important inconveniences. the first was the danger of the road, as the stormy season was coming on, and we were but indifferently provided with ground tackle, which must expose us to many dangers. the second was, that quibo was but at a small distance from panama, and we had reason to fear the spaniards might send a ship of war from thence in search of us; as we had now no hopes that peace had taken place, and had consequently laid aside all thoughts of surrendering. on these considerations, we plied up to the island of cano, where we soon did our business, having a good boat. [footnote : betagh charges shelvocke on this occasion, with the concealment of a considerable treasure, taken in the conception, of which some account will be given at the conclusion of the voyage.--e.] on our passage to that island, the sweetmeats of all kinds were divided among our messes; and one day a man complained that he had got a box of marmalade into which his knife could not penetrate, and desired therefore to have it changed. on opening it, i found it to contain a cake of virgin silver, moulded on purpose to fill the box, weighing dollars; and on examining the rest, we found five more of the same kind. these cakes of silver, being very porous, were nearly of the some weight with so much marmalade, and were evidently contrived for the purpose of defrauding the king of spain of his fifths, which he exacts from all silver procured in the mines of peru. we doubtless left many such cakes behind in the conception, so that this contrivance served them both to wrong their king, and to deceive their enemies. a similarly vexatious affair occurred in a prize taken by the success, in which there was a considerable quantity of _pinos_, or masses of virgin silver, in the form of bricks, artfully plaistered over with clay, and dried in the sun. as the spaniards in peru never burn their bricks, clipperton and his people took these for real bricks, and threw a great number of them overboard as so much rubbish, and did not discover the deception until four or five only remained. every thing taken in the conception, was divided according to the articles settled at juan fernandez, which gave me only six shares, instead of sixty; and the people refused to allow me an hundred pounds, which i had laid out of my own money, for necessary supplies at the island of st catharines. i now found myself under many difficulties as to the course we were to pursue, because the company knew well enough that there was no necessity of going farther than the lat. of ° n. for going to the east indies. i had therefore to represent the advantage of cleaning and repairing our ship at porto segnro, in california, and i had much difficulty to persuade them. i at last brought them to my purpose, when we sailed from cano northwards. having inconstant gales and bad weather, we went between seventy and eighty leagues out to sea, in hopes of meeting more settled weather. when at sixty leagues from the land, the winds still continued variable, but at between seventy and eighty, they settled at e.n.e. and n.e. at which distance we continued till in lat. ° n. not being sensible of any currents in all that distance, and being also entirely out of the way of the frightful ripplings and overfalls of water which we used frequently to meet with nearer the land. these used often to alarm us when becalmed in deep water, hearing a noise as of the fall of water in passing through a bridge, a considerable time before it came up to us, and which afterwards passed us at a very great rate. all the effect this had on the ship, was to make her answer the helm wildly, if we had any wind; and when we happened to meet any of these moving waters very near the shore, we could not perceive that we either gained or lost ground, though we sometimes continued in them for a quarter of an hour. i have seen these overfalls to come both from the eastward and the westward. by getting well out to sea, we not only got clear of these inconveniences, but also were out of the way of the _vandevals_, or black season, which had already begun on the coast; for at cano, and in going there, we felt very hard gusts, with black rolling water, frequent and violent thunder and lightning, and heavy showers of rain. in this passage we were continually accompanied by vast shoals of fish, as dolphins, bonitas, albicores, and angel-fish. these last are shaped like salmon, and have scales like them, but have tails like dolphins, and nearly resemble them when, in the water, appearing in all the beautiful colours displayed by the dolphin. besides, they are the best for eating of any fish that swim near the surface. we were continually pestered with flocks of the birds called boobies, and their intolerably stinking dung proved an indescribable nuisance, in spite of all the pains that could be taken to clean our decks, yards, and tops. we reached the islands of _tres marias_ in the beginning of august, but could see no signs of captain clipperton having been there. we were also disappointed in our expectation of procuring water; as, after the strictest search we could make in all the three islands, nothing like a spring could be found, though former writers mention their having found water in abundance. after spending three days in our ineffectual search for water in these islands, i thought it best to stand over for the main land of california, as well for procuring what was wanting to our ship, as in hopes of meeting once more with the success. end of volume tenth. * * * * * old and new london. [illustration: cassell's old & new london, plate . the thames embankment.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london, plate . the royal exchange & bank of england.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london. plate . alderman boydell. from the portrait in the guildhall collection.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london plate . the midland railway station,--st. pancras.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london. plate . maclure & macdonald del et lith. a city apprentice,-- th century.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london. plate . a banquet at the guildhall.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london. plate . the holborn viaduct.] [illustration: cassell's old & new london. plate . london watchman (charlie) th century] [illustration: cassell's old & new london. plate . st. paul's from ludgate circus.] [illustration: a waterman in doggett's coat and badge.] old and new london. _a narrative of_ its history, its people, and its places. illustrated with numerous engravings from the most authentic sources. vol. i. cassell, petter & galpin: _london, paris & new york._ [transcriber's note: although the table of contents is correct, the chapter heading for chapter xliii is used twice and chapter xlvii missing with chapter headings offset by one in between. these have been corrected in this text document.] contents. page introduction chapter i. roman london. buried london--our early relations--the founder of london--a distinguished visitor at romney marsh--cæsar re-visits the "town on the lake"--the borders of old london--cæsar fails to make much out of the britons--king _brown_--the derivation of the name of london--the queen of the iceni--london stone and london roads--london's earlier and newer walls--the site of st. paul's--fabulous claims to idolatrous renown--existing relics of roman london--treasures from the bed of the thames--what we tread underfoot in london--a vast field of story chapter ii. temple bar. temple bar--the golgotha of english traitors--when temple bar was made of wood--historical pageants at temple bar--the associations of temple bar--mischievous processions through temple bar--the first grim trophy--rye-house plot conspirators chapter iii. fleet street:--general introduction. frays in fleet street--chaucer and the friar--the duchess of gloucester doing penance for witchcraft--riots between law students and citizens--'prentice riots--oates in the pillory--entertainments in fleet street--shop signs--burning the boot--trial of hardy--queen caroline's funeral chapter iv. fleet street (_continued_). dr. johnson in ambuscade at temple bar--the first child--dryden and black will--rupert's jewels--telson's bank--the apollo club at the "devil"--"old sir simon the king"--"mull sack"--dr. johnson's supper to mrs. lennox--will waterproof at the "cock"--the duel at "dick's coffee house"--lintot's shop--pope and warburton--lamb and the _albion_--the palace of cardinal wolsey--mrs. salmon's waxwork--isaak walton--praed's bank--murray and byron--st. dunstan's--fleet street printers--hoare's bank and the "golden bottle"--the real and spurious "mitre"--hone's trial--cobbett's shop--"peele's coffee house" chapter v. fleet street (_continued_). the "green dragon"--tompion and pinchbeck--the _record_--st. bride's and its memories--_punch_ and his contributors--the _dispatch_--the _daily telegraph_--the "globe tavern" and goldsmith--the _morning advertiser_--the _standard_--the _london magazine_--a strange story--alderman waithman--brutus billy--hardham and his " " chapter vi. fleet street (northern tributaries--shire lane and bell yard). the kit-kat club--the toast for the year--little lady mary--drunken john sly--garth's patients--club removed to barn elms--steele at the "trumpet"--rogues' lane--murder--beggars' haunts--thieves' dens--coiners--theodore hook in hemp's sponging-house--pope in bell yard--minor celebrities--apollo court chapter vii. fleet street (northern tributaries--chancery lane). the asylum for jewish converts--the rolls chapel--ancient monuments--a speaker expelled for bribery--"remember cæsar"--trampling on a master of the rolls--sir william grant's oddities--sir john leach--funeral of lord gifford--mrs. clark and the duke of york--wolsey in his pomp--strafford--"honest isaak"--the lord keeper--lady fanshawe--jack randal--serjeants' inn--an evening with hazlitt at the "southampton"--charles lamb--sheridan--the sponging houses--the law institute--a tragical story chapter viii. fleet street (northern tributaries--_continued_). clifford's inn--dyer's chambers--the settlement after the great fire--peter wilkins and his flying wives--fetter lane--waller's plot and its victims--praise-god barebone and his doings--charles lamb at school--hobbes the philosopher--a strange marriage--mrs. brownrigge--paul whitehead--the moravians--the record office and its treasures--rival poets chapter ix. fleet street tributaries--crane court, johnson's court, bolt court. removal of the royal society from gresham college--opposition to newton--objections to removal--the first catalogue--swift's jeer at the society--franklin's lightning conductor and king george iii.--sir hans sloane insulted--the scottish society--wilkes's printer--the delphin classics--johnson's court--johnson's opinion on pope and dryden--his removal to bolt court--the _john bull_--hook and terry--prosecutions for libel--hook's impudence chapter x. fleet street tributaries. dr. johnson in bolt court--his motley household--his life there--still existing--the gallant "lumber troop"--reform bill riots--sir claudius hunter--cobbett in bolt court--the bird boy--the private soldier--in the house--dr. johnson in gough square--busy at the dictionary--goldsmith in wine office court--selling "the vicar of wakefield"--goldsmith's troubles--wine office court--the old "cheshire cheese" chapter xi. fleet street tributaries--shoe lane. the first lucifers--perkins' steam gun--a link between shakespeare and shoe lane--florio and his labours--"cogers' hall"--famous "cogers"--a saturday night's debate--gunpowder alley--richard lovelace, the cavalier poet--"to althea, from prison"--lilly the astrologer and his knaveries--a search for treasure with davy ramsay--hogarth in harp alley--the "society of sign painters"--hudson, the song writer--"jack robinson"--the bishop's residence--bangor house--a strange story of unstamped newspapers--chatterton's death--curious legend of his burial--a well-timed joke chapter xii. fleet street tributaries--south. worthy mr. fisher--lamb's wednesday evenings--persons one would wish to have seen--ram alley--serjeants' inn--the _daily news_--"memory" woodfall--a mug-house riot--richardson's printing office--fielding and richardson--johnson's estimate of richardson--hogarth and richardson's guest--an egotist rebuked--the king's "housewife"--caleb colton: his life, works, and sentiments chapter xiii. the temple.--general introduction. origin of the order of templars--first home of the order--removal to the banks of the thames--rules of the order--the templars at the crusades, and their deeds of valour--decay and corruption of the order--charges brought against the knights--abolition of the order chapter xiv. the temple church and precinct. the temple church--its restorations--discoveries of antiquities--the penitential cell--discipline in the temple--the tombs of the templars in the "round"--william and gilbert marshall--stone coffins in the churchyard--masters of the temple--the "judicious" hooker--edmund gibbon, the historian--the organ in the temple church--the rival builders--"straw bail"--history of the precinct--chaucer and the friar--his mention of the temple--the serjeants--erection of new buildings--the "roses"--sumptuary edicts--the flying horse chapter xv. the temple (_continued_). the middle temple hall: its roof, busts, and portraits--manningham's diary--fox hunts in hall--the grand revels--spenser--sir j. davis--a present to a king--masques and royal visitors at the temple--fires in the temple--the last great revel in the hall--temple anecdotes--the gordon riots--john scott and his pretty wife--colman "keeping terms"--blackstone's "farewell"--burke--sheridan--a pair of epigrams--hare court--the barber's shop--johnson and the literary club--charles lamb--goldsmith: his life, troubles, and extravagances--"hack work" for booksellers--_the deserted village_--_she stoops to conquer_--goldsmith's death and burial chapter xvi. the temple (_continued_). fountain court and the temple fountain--ruth pinch--l.e.l.'s poem--fig-tree court--the inner temple library--paper buildings--the temple gate--guildford north and jeffreys--cowper, the poet: his melancholy and attempted suicide--a tragedy in tanfield court--lord mansfield--"mr. murray" and his client--lamb's pictures of the temple--the sun-dials--porson and his eccentricities--rules of the temple--coke and his labours--temple riots--scuffles with the alsatians--temple dinners--"calling" to the bar--the temple gardens--the chrysanthemums--sir matthew hale's tree--revenues of the temple--temple celebrities chapter xvii. whitefriars. the present whitefriars--the carmelite convent--dr. butts--the sanctuary--lord sanquhar murders the fencing-master--his trial--bacon and yelverton--his execution--sir walter scott's "fortunes of nigel"--shadwell's _squire of alsatia_--a riot in whitefriars--elizabethan edicts against the ruffians of alsatia--bridewell--a roman fortification--a saxon palace--wolsey's residence--queen katherine's trial--her behaviour in court--persecution of the first congregationalists--granaries and coal stores destroyed by the great fire--the flogging in bridewell--sermon on madame creswell--hogarth and the "harlot's progress"--pennant's account of bridewell--bridewell in --its latter days--pictures in the court room--bridewell dock--the gas works--theatres in whitefriars--pepys' visits to the theatre--dryden and the dorset gardens theatre--davenant--kynaston--dorset house--the poet-earl chapter xviii. blackfriars. three norman fortresses on the thames' bank--the black parliament--the trial of katherine of arragon--shakespeare a blackfriars manager--the blackfriars puritans--the jesuit sermon at hunsdon house--fatal accident--extraordinary escapes--queen elizabeth at lord herbert's marriage--old blackfriars bridge--johnson and mylne--laying of the stone--the inscription--a toll riot--failure of the bridge--the new bridge--bridge street--sir richard phillips and his works--painters in blackfriars--the king's printing office--printing house square--the _times_ and its history--walter's enterprise--war with the _dispatch_--the gigantic swindling scheme exposed by the _times_--apothecaries' hall--quarrel with the college of physicians chapter xix. ludgate hill. an ugly bridge and "ye belle savage"--a radical publisher--the principal gate of london--from a fortress to a prison--"remember the poor prisoners"--relics of early times--st. martin's, ludgate--the london coffee house--celebrated goldsmiths on ludgate hill--mrs. rundell's cookery book--stationers' hall--old burgavenny house and its history--early days of the stationers' company--the almanacks--an awkward misprint--the hall and its decorations--the st. cecilia festivals--dryden's "st. cecilia's day" and "alexander's feast"--handel's setting of them--a modest poet--funeral feasts and political banquets--the company's plate--their charities--the pictures at stationers' hall--the company's arms--famous masters chapter xx. st. paul's. london's chief sanctuary of religion--the site of st. paul's--the earliest authenticated church there--the shrine of erkenwald--st. paul's burnt and rebuilt--it becomes the scene of a strange incident--important political meeting within its walls--the great charter published there--st. paul's and papal power in england--turmoils around the grand cathedral--relics and chantry chapels in st. paul's--royal visits to st. paul's--richard, duke of york, and henry vi.--a fruitless reconciliation--jane shore's penance--a tragedy of the lollards' tower--a royal marriage--henry viii. and cardinal wolsey at st. paul's--"peter of westminster"--a bonfire of bibles--the cathedral clergy fined--a miraculous rood--st. paul's under edward vi. and bishop ridley--a protestant tumult at paul's cross--strange ceremonials--queen elizabeth's munificence--the burning of the spire--desecration of the nave--elizabeth and dean nowell--thanksgiving for the armada--the "children of paul's"--government lotteries--executions in the churchyard--inigo jones's restorations and the puritan parliament--the great fire of --burning of old st. paul's, and destruction of its monuments--evelyn's description of the fire--sir christopher wren called in chapter xxi. st. paul's (_continued_). the rebuilding of st. paul's--ill treatment of its architect--cost of the present fabric--royal visitors--the first grave in st. paul's--monuments in st. paul's--nelson's funeral--military heroes in st. paul's--the duke of wellington's funeral--other great men in st. paul's--proposal for the completion and decoration of the building--dimensions of st. paul's--plan of construction--the dome, ball, and cross--mr. horner and his observatory--two narrow escapes--sir james thornhill--peregrine falcons on st. paul's--nooks and corners of the cathedral--the library, model room, and clock--the great bell--a lucky error--curious story of a monomaniac--the poets and the cathedral--the festivals of the charity schools and of the sons of the clergy chapter xxii. st. paul's churchyard. st paul's churchyard and literature--queen anne's statue--execution of a jesuit in st. paul's churchyard--miracle of the "face in the straw"--wilkinson's story--newbery the bookseller--paul's chain--"cocker"--chapter house of st. paul's--st. paul's coffee house--child's coffee house and the clergy--garrick's club at the "queen's arms," and the company there--"sir benjamin" figgins--johnson the bookseller--hunter and his guests--fuseli--bonnycastle--kinnaird--musical associations of the churchyard--jeremiah clark and his works--handel at meares' shop--young the violin maker--the "castle" concerts--an old advertisement--wren at the "goose and gridiron"--st. paul's school--famous paulines--pepys visiting his old school--milton at st. paul's chapter xxiii. paternoster row. its successions of traders--the house of longman--goldsmith at fault--tarleton, actor, host, and wit--ordinaries around st. paul's: their rules and customs--the "castle"--"dolly's"--the "chapter" and its frequenters--chatterton and goldsmith--dr. buchan and his prescriptions--dr. gower--dr. fordyce--the "wittinagemot" at the "chapter"--the "printing conger"--mrs. turner, the poisoner--the church of st. michael "ad bladum"--the boy in panier alley chapter xxiv. baynard's castle and doctors' commons. baron fitzwalter and king john--the duties of the chief bannerer of london--an old-fashioned punishment for treason--shakesperian allusions to baynard's "castle"--doctors' commons and its five courts--the court of probate act, --the court of arches--the will office--business of the court--prerogative court--faculty office--lord stowell, the admiralty judge--stories of him--his marriage--sir herbert jenner fust--the court "rising"--doctor lushington--marriage licences--old weller and the "touters"--doctors' commons at the present day chapter xxv. heralds' college. early homes of the heralds--the constitution of the heralds' college--garter king at arms--clarencieux and norroy--the pursuivants--duties and privileges of heralds--good, bad, and jovial heralds--a notable norroy king at arms--the tragic end of two famous heralds--the college of arms' library chapter xxvi. cheapside--introductory and historical. ancient reminiscences of cheapside--stormy days therein--the westchepe market--something about the pillory--the cheapside conduits--the goldsmiths' monopoly--cheapside market--gossip anent cheapside by mr. pepys--a saxon rienzi--anti-free-trade riots in cheapside--arrest of the rioters--a royal pardon--jane shore chapter xxvii. cheapside shows and pageants. a tournament in cheapside--the queen in danger--the street in holiday attire--the earliest civic show on record--the water processions--a lord mayor's show in queen elizabeth's reign--gossip about lord mayors' shows--splendid pageants--royal visitors at lord mayors' shows--a grand banquet in guildhall--george iii. and the lord mayor's show--the lord mayor's state coach--the men in armour--sir claudius hunter and elliston--stow and the midsummer watch chapter xxviii. cheapside--central. grim chronicles of cheapside--cheapside cross--puritanical intolerance--the old london conduits--mediæval water-carriers--the church of st. mary-le-bow--"murder will out"--the "sound of bow bells"--sir christopher wren's bow church--remains of the old church--the seldam--interesting houses in cheapside and their memories--goldsmiths' row--the "nag's head" and the self-consecrated bishops--keats' house--saddlers' hall--a prince disguised--blackmore, the poet--alderman boydell, the printseller--his edition of shakespeare--"puck"--the lottery--death and burial chapter xxix. cheapside tributaries--south. the king's exchange--friday street and the poet chaucer--the wednesday club in friday street--william paterson, founder of the bank of england--how easy it is to redeem the national debt--st. matthew's and st. margaret moses--bread street and the bakers' shops--st. austin's, watling street--fraternity of st. austin's--st. mildred's, bread street--the mitre tavern--a priestly duel--milton's birthplace--the "mermaid"--sir walter raleigh and the mermaid club--thomas coryatt, the traveller--bow lane--queen street--soper's lane--a mercer knight--st. bennet sherehog--epitaphs in the church of st. thomas apostle--a charitable merchant chapter xxx. cheapside tributaries--north. goldsmiths' hall--its early days--tailors and goldsmiths at loggerheads--the goldsmiths' company's charters and records--their great annual feast--they receive queen margaret of anjou in state--a curious trial of skill--civic and state duties--the goldsmiths break up the image of their patron saint--the goldsmiths' company's assays--the ancient goldsmiths' feasts--the goldsmiths at work--goldsmiths' hall at the present day--the portraits--st. leonard's church--st. vedast--discovery of a stone coffin--coachmakers' hall chapter xxxi. cheapside tributaries, north:--wood street. wood street--pleasant memories--st. peter's in chepe--st. michael's and st. mary staining--st. alban's, wood street--some quaint epitaphs--wood street compter and the hapless prisoners therein--wood street painful, wood street cheerful--thomas ripley--the anabaptist rising--a remarkable wine cooper--st. john zachary and st. anne-in-the-willows--haberdashers' hall--something about the mercers chapter xxxii. cheapside tributaries, north (_continued_). milk street--sir thomas more--the city of london school--st. mary magdalen--honey lane--all hallows' church--lawrence lane and st. lawrence church--ironmonger lane and mercers' hall--the mercers' company--early life assurance companies--the mercers' company in trouble--mercers' chapel--st. thomas acon--the mercers' school--restoration of the carvings in mercers' hall--the glories of the mercers' company--ironmonger lane chapter xxxiii. guildhall. the original guildhall--a fearful civic spectacle--the value of land increased by the great fire--guildhall as it was and is--the statues over the south porch--dance's disfigurements--the renovation in --the crypt--gog and magog--shopkeepers in guildhall--the cenotaphs in guildhall--the court of aldermen--the city courts--the chamberlain's office--pictures in the guildhall--sir robert porter--the common council room--pictures and statues--guildhall chapel--the new library and museum--some rare books--historical events in guildhall--chaucer in trouble--buckingham at guildhall--anne askew's trial and death--surrey--throckmorton--garnet--a grand banquet chapter xxxiv. the lord mayors of london. the first mayor of london--portrait of him--presentation to the king--an outspoken mayor--sir n. farindon--sir william walworth--origin of the prefix "lord"--sir richard whittington and his liberality--institutions founded by him--sir simon eyre and his table--a musical lord mayor--henry viii. and gresham--loyalty of the lord mayor and citizens to queen mary--osborne's leap into the thames--sir w. craven--brass crosby--his committal to the tower--a victory for the citizens chapter xxxv. the lord mayors of london (_continued_). john wilkes: his birth and parentage--the _north briton_--duel with martin--his expulsion--personal appearance--anecdotes of wilkes--a reason for making a speech--wilkes and the king--the lord mayor at the gordon riots--"soap-suds" _versus_ "bar"--sir william curtis and his kilt--a gambling lord mayor--sir william staines, bricklayer and lord mayor--"patty-pan" birch--sir matthew wood--waithman--sir peter laurie and the "dregs of the people"--recent lord mayors chapter xxxvi. the poultry. the early home of the london poulterers--its mysterious desertion--noteworthy sites in the poultry--the birthplace of tom hood, senior--a pretty quarrel at the rose tavern--a costly sign-board--the three cranes--the home of the dillys--johnsoniana--st. mildred's church, poultry--quaint epitaphs--the poultry compter--attack on dr. lamb, the conjurer--dekker, the dramatist--ned ward's description of the compter--granville sharp and the slave trade--important decision in favour of the slave--boyse--dunton chapter xxxvii. old jewry. the old jewry--early settlements of jews in london and oxford--bad times for the israelites--jews' alms--a king in debt--rachel weeping for her children--jewish converts--wholesale expulsion of the chosen people from england--the rich house of a rich citizen--the london institution, formerly in the old jewry--porsoniana--nonconformists in the old jewry--samuel chandler, richard price, and james foster--the grocers company--their sufferings under the commonwealth--almost bankrupt--again they flourish--the grocers' hall garden--fairfax and the grocers--a rich and generous grocer--a warlike grocer--walbrook--bucklersbury chapter xxxviii. the mansion house. the palace of the lord mayor--the old stocks' market--a notable statue of charles ii.--the mansion house described--the egyptian hall--works of art in the mansion house--the election of the lord mayor--lord mayor's day--the duties of a lord mayor--days of the year on which the lord mayor holds high state--the patronage of the lord mayor--his powers--the lieutenancy of the city of london--the conservancy of the thames and medway--the lord mayor's advisers--the mansion house household and expenditure--theodore hook--lord mayor scropps--the lord mayor's insignia--the state barge--the maria wood chapter xxxix. saxon london. a glance at saxon london--the three component parts of saxon london--the first saxon bridge over the thames--edward the confessor at westminster--city residences of the saxon kings--political position of london in early times--the first recorded great fire of london--the early commercial dignity of london--the kings of norway and denmark besiege london in vain--a great _gemot_ held in london--edmund ironside elected king by the londoners--canute besieges them, and is driven off--the seamen of london--its citizens as electors of kings chapter xl. the bank of england. the jews and the lombards--the goldsmiths the first london bankers--william paterson, founder of the bank of england--difficult parturition of the bank bill--whig principles of the bank of england--the great company described by addison--a crisis at the bank--effects of a silver re-coinage--paterson quits the bank of england--the ministry resolves that it shall be enlarged--the credit of the bank shaken--the whigs to the rescue--effects of the sacheverell riots--the south sea company--the cost of a new charter--forged bank notes--the foundation of the "three per cent. consols"--anecdotes relating to the bank of england and bank notes--description of the building--statue of william iii.--bank clearing house--dividend day at the bank chapter xli. the stock exchange. the kingdom of change alley--a william iii. reuter--stock exchange tricks--bulls and bears--thomas guy, the hospital founder--sir john barnard, the "great commoner"--sampson gideon, the famous jew broker--alexander fordyce--a cruel quaker criticism--stockbrokers and longevity--the stock exchange in --the money articles in the london papers--the case of benjamin walsh, m.p.--the de berenger conspiracy--lord cochrane unjustly accused--"ticket pocketing"--system of business at the stock exchange--"popgun john"--nathan rothschild--secrecy of his operations--rothschild outdone by stratagem--grotesque sketch of rothschild--abraham goldsmid--vicissitudes of the stock exchange--the spanish panic of --the railway mania--ricardo's golden rules--a clerical intruder in capel court--amusements of stockbrokers--laws of the stock exchange--the pigeon express--the "alley man"--purchase of stock--eminent members of the stock exchange chapter xlii. the royal exchange. the greshams--important negotiations--building of the old exchange--queen elizabeth visits it--its milliners' shops--a resort for idlers--access of nuisances--the various walks in the exchange--shakespeare's visits to it--precautions against fire--lady gresham and the council--the "eye of london"--contemporary allusions--the royal exchange during the plague and the great fire--wren's design for a new royal exchange--the plan which was ultimately accepted--addison and steele upon the exchange--the shops of the second exchange chapter xliii. the second exchange on fire--chimes extraordinary--incidents of the fire--sale of salvage--designs for the new building--details of the present exchange--the ambulatory, or merchants' walk--royal exchange assurance company--"lloyd's"--origin of "lloyd's"--marine assurance--benevolent contributions of "lloyd's"--a "good" and "bad" book chapter xliv. neighbourhood of the bank:--lothbury. lothbury--its former inhabitants--st. margaret's church--tokenhouse yard--origin of the name--farthings and tokens--silver halfpence and pennies--queen anne's farthings--sir william petty--defoe's account of the plague in tokenhouse yard chapter xlv. throgmorton street.--the drapers' company. halls of the drapers' company--throgmorton street and its many fair houses--drapers and wool merchants--the drapers in olden times--milborne's charity--dress and livery--election dinner of the drapers' company--a draper's funeral--ordinances and pensions--fifty-three draper mayors--pageants and processions of the drapers--charters--details of the present drapers' hall--arms of the drapers' company chapter xlvi. bartholomew lane and lombard street. george robins--his sale of the lease of the olympic--st. bartholomew's church--the lombards and lombard street--william de la pole--gresham--the post office, lombard street--alexander pope's father in plough court--lombard street tributaries--st. mary woolnoth--st. clement's--dr. benjamin stone--discovery of roman remains--st. mary abchurch chapter xlvii. threadneedle street. the centre of roman london--st. benet fink--the monks of st. anthony--the merchant taylors--stow, antiquary and tailor--a magnificent roll--the good deeds of the merchant taylors--the old and the modern merchant taylors' hall--"concordia parvæ res crescunt"--henry vii. enrolled as a member of the taylors' company--a cavalcade of archers--the hall of commerce in threadneedle street--a painful reminiscence--the baltic coffee-house--st. anthony's school--the north and south american coffee-house--the south sea house--history of the south sea bubble--bubble companies of the period--singular infatuation of the public--bursting of the bubble--parliamentary inquiry into the company's affairs--punishment of the chief delinquents--restoration of public credit--the poets during the excitement--charles lamb's reverie chapter xlviii. cannon street. london stone and jack cade--southwark bridge--old city churches--the salters' company's hall, and the salters' company's history--oxford house--salters' banquets--salters' hall chapel--a mysterious murder in cannon street--st. martin orgar--king william's statue--cannon street station chapter xlix. cannon street tributaries and eastcheap. budge row--cordwainers' hall--st. swithin's church--founders' hall--the oldest street in london--tower royal and the wat tyler mob--the queen's wardrobe--st. antholin's church--"st. antlin's bell"--the london fire brigade--captain shaw's statistics--st. mary aldermary--a quaint epitaph--crooked lane--an early "gun accident"--st. michael's and sir william walworth's epitaph--gerard's hall and its history--the early closing movement--st. mary woolchurch--roman remains in nicholas lane--st. stephen's, walbrook--eastcheap and the cooks' shops--the "boar's head"--prince hal and his companions--a giant plum-pudding--goldsmith at the "boar's head"--the weigh-house chapel and its famous preachers--reynolds, clayton, binney chapter l. the monument and its neighbourhood. the monument--how shall it be fashioned?--commemorative inscriptions--the monument's place in history--suicides and the monument--the great fire of london--on the top of the monument by night--the source of the fire--a terrible description--miles coverdale--st. magnus, london bridge chapter li. chaucer's london. london citizens in the reigns of edward iii. and richard ii.--the knight--the young bachelor--the yeoman--the prioress--the monk who goes a hunting--the merchant--the poor clerk--the franklin--the shipman--the poor parson list of illustrations. page introduction of randolph to ben jonson (frontispiece) the old wooden temple bar burning the pope in effigy at temple bar bridewell in part of modern london, showing the ancient wall plan of roman london ancient roman pavement part of old london wall, near falcon square proclamation of charles ii. at temple bar penance of the duchess of gloucester the room over temple bar titus oates in the pillory dr. titus oates temple bar and the "devil tavern" temple bar in dr. johnson's time mull sack and lady fairfax mrs. salmon's waxwork, fleet street st. dunstan's clock an evening with dr. johnson at the "mitre" old houses (still standing) in fleet street st. bride's church, fleet street, after the fire, waithman's shop alderman waithman, from an authentic portrait group at hardham's tobacco shop lady mary wortley montagu and the kit-kats bishop butler wolsey in chancery lane izaak walton's house old serjeants' inn hazlitt clifford's inn execution of tomkins and challoner roasting the rumps in fleet street (from an old print) interior of the moravian chapel in fetter lane house said to have been occupied by dryden in fetter lane a meeting of the royal society in crane court the royal society's house in crane court theodore e. hook dr. johnson's house in bolt court a tea party at dr. johnson's gough square wine office court and the "cheshire cheese" cogers' hall lovelace in prison bangor house, old st. dunstan's church the dorset gardens theatre, whitefriars attack on a whig mug-house fleet street, the temple, &c., fleet street, the temple, &c., a knight templar interior of the temple church tombs of knights templars the temple in the old hall of the inner temple antiquities of the temple oliver goldsmith goldsmith's tomb in the temple fountain, from an old print a scuffle between templars and alsatians sun-dial in the temple the temple stairs the murder of turner bridewell, as rebuilt after the fire, from an old print beating hemp in bridewell, after hogarth interior of the duke's theatre baynard's castle, from a view published in falling-in of the chapel at blackfriars richard burbage, from an original portrait laying the foundation-stone of blackfriars bridge printing house square and the "times" office blackfriars old bridge during its construction, the college of physicians, warwick lane outer court of la belle sauvage in the inner court of the belle sauvage the mutilated statues from lud gate, old lud gate, from a print published about ruins of the barbican on ludgate hill interior of stationers' hall old st. paul's, from a view by hollar old st. paul's--the interior, looking east the church of st. faith, the crypt of old st. paul's st. paul's after the fall of the spire the chapter house of old st. paul's dr. bourne preaching at paul's cross the rebuilding of st. paul's the choir of st. paul's the scaffolding and observatory on st. paul's in st. paul's and the neighbourhood in the library of st. paul's the "face in the straw," execution of father garnet old st. paul's school richard tarleton, the actor dolly's coffee house the figure in panier alley the church of st. michael ad bladum the prerogative office, doctors' commons st. paul's and neighbourhood, from aggas' plan, heralds' college (from an old print) the last heraldic court (from an old picture) sword, dagger, and ring of king james of scotland linacre's house ancient view of cheapside beginning of the riot in cheapside cheapside cross, as it appeared in the lord mayor's procession, from hogarth the marriage procession of anne boleyn figures of gog and magog set up in guildhall the royal banquet in guildhall in the lord mayor's coach the demolition of cheapside cross old map of the ward of cheap--about the seal of bow church bow church, cheapside, from a view taken about no. , cheapside, from an old view the door of saddlers' hall milton's house and milton's burial-place interior of goldsmiths' hall trial of the pix exterior of goldsmiths' hall altar of diana wood street compter, from a view published in the tree at the corner of wood street pulpit hour-glass interior of st. michael's, wood street interior of haberdashers' hall the "swan with two necks," lad lane city of london school mercers' chapel, as rebuilt after the fire the crypt of guildhall the court of aldermen, guildhall old front of guildhall the new library, guildhall sir richard whittington whittington's almshouses, college hill osborne's leap a lord mayor and his lady wilkes on his trial birch's shop, cornhill the stocks' market, site of the mansion house john wilkes the poultry compter richard porson sir r. clayton's house, garden front exterior of grocers' hall interior of grocers' hall the mansion house kitchen the mansion house in interior of the egyptian hall the "maria wood" broad street and cornhill wards lord mayor's water procession the old bank, looking from the mansion house old patch the bank parlour, exterior view dividend day at the bank the church of st. benet fink court of the bank of england "jonathan's," from an old sketch capel court the clearing house the present stock exchange on change (from an old print, about ) inner court of the first royal exchange sir thomas gresham wren's plan for rebuilding london plan of the exchange in the first royal exchange the second royal exchange, cornhill the present royal exchange blackwell hall in interior of lloyd's the subscription room at "lloyd's" interior of drapers' hall drapers' hall garden cromwell's house, from aggas's map pope's house, plough court, lombard street st. mary woolnoth interior of merchant taylors' hall ground plan of the church of st. martin outwich march of the archers the old south sea house london stone the fourth salters' hall cordwainers' hall st. antholin's church, watling street the crypt of gerard's hall old sign of the "boar's head" exterior of st. stephen's, walbrook, in the weigh-house chapel miles coverdale wren's original design for the summit of the monument the monument and the church of st. magnus, [illustration] london as it was and as it is. writing the history of a vast city like london is like writing a history of the ocean--the area is so vast, its inhabitants are so multifarious, the treasures that lie in its depths so countless. what aspect of the great chameleon city should one select? for, as boswell, with more than his usual sense, once remarked, "london is to the politician merely a seat of government, to the grazier a cattle market, to the merchant a huge exchange, to the dramatic enthusiast a congeries of theatres, to the man of pleasure an assemblage of taverns." if we follow one path alone, we must neglect other roads equally important; let us, then, consider the metropolis as a whole, for, as johnson's friend well says, "the intellectual man is struck with london as comprehending the whole of human life in all its variety, the contemplation of which is inexhaustible." in histories, in biographies, in scientific records, and in chronicles of the past, however humble, let us gather materials for a record of the great and the wise, the base and the noble, the odd and the witty, who have inhabited london and left their names upon its walls. wherever the glimmer of the cross of st. paul's can be seen we shall wander from street to alley, from alley to street, noting almost every event of interest that has taken place there since london was a city. had it been our lot to write of london before the great fire, we should have only had to visit , houses. if in dr. johnson's time, we might have done like energetic dr. birch, and have perambulated the twenty-mile circuit of london in six hours' hard walking; but who now could put a girdle round the metropolis in less than double that time? the houses now grow by streets at a time, and the nearly four million inhabitants would take a lifetime to study. addison probably knew something of london when he called it "an aggregate of various nations, distinguished from each other by their respective customs, manners, and interests--the st. james's courtiers from the cheapside citizens, the temple lawyers from the smithfield drovers;" but what would the _spectator_ say now to the , domestic servants, the , tailors, the , carpenters, the , dressmakers, the , seamen, the , publicans, the , blacksmiths, &c., to which the population returns of thirty years ago depose, whom he would have to observe and visit before he could say he knew all the ways, oddities, humours--the joys and sorrows, in fact--of this great centre of civilisation? the houses of old london are incrusted as thick with anecdotes, legends, and traditions as an old ship is with barnacles. strange stories about strange men grow like moss in every crevice of the bricks. let us, then, roll together like a great snowball the mass of information that time and our predecessors have accumulated, and reduce it to some shape and form. old london is passing away even as we dip our pen in the ink, and we would fain erect quickly our itinerant photographic machine, and secure some views of it before it passes. roman london, saxon london, norman london, elizabethan london, stuart london, queen anne's london, we shall in turn rifle to fill our museum, on whose shelves the roman lamp and the vessel full of tears will stand side by side with vanessas' fan; the sword-knot of rochester by the note-book of goldsmith. the history of london is an epitome of the history of england. few great men indeed that england has produced but have some associations that connect them with london. to be able to recall these associations in a london walk is a pleasure perpetually renewing, and to all intents inexhaustible. let us, then, at once, without longer halting at the gate, seize the pilgrim staff and start upon our voyage of discovery, through a dreamland that will be now goldsmith's, now gower's, now shakespeare's, now pope's, london. in cannon street, by the old central milestone of london, grave romans will meet us and talk of cæsar and his legions. in fleet street we shall come upon chaucer beating the malapert franciscan friar; at temple bar, stare upwards at the ghastly jacobite heads. in smithfield we shall meet froissart's knights riding to the tournament; in the strand see the misguided earl of essex defending his house against queen elizabeth's troops, who are turning towards him the cannon on the roof of st. clement's church. but let us first, rather than glance at scattered pictures in a gallery which is so full of them, measure out, as it were, our future walks, briefly glancing at the special doors where we shall billet our readers. the brief summary will serve to broadly epitomise the subject, and will prove the ceaseless variety of interest which it involves. we have selected temple bar, that old gateway, as a point of departure, because it is the centre, as near as can be, of historical london, and is in itself full of interest. we begin with it as a rude wooden building, which, after the great fire, wren turned into the present arch of stone, with a room above, where messrs. childs, the bankers, store their books and archives. the trunk of one of the rye house conspirators, in charles ii.'s time, first adorned the bar; and after that, one after the other, many rash jacobite heads, in and , arrived at the same bad eminence. in many a royal procession and many a city riot, this gate has figured as a halting-place and a point of defence. the last rebel's head blew down in ; and the last spike was not removed till the beginning of the present century. in the popish plot days of charles ii. vast processions used to come to temple bar to illuminate the supposed statue of queen elizabeth, in the south-east niche (though it probably really represents anne of denmark); and at great bonfires at the temple gate the frenzied people burned effigies of the pope, while thousands of squibs were discharged, with shouts that frightened the popish portuguese queen, at that time living at somerset house, forsaken by her dissolute scapegrace of a husband. turning our faces now towards the old black dome that rises like a half-eclipsed planet over ludgate hill, we first pass along fleet street, a locality full to overflowing with ancient memorials, and in its modern aspect not less interesting. this street has been from time immemorial the high road for royal processions. richard ii. has passed along here to st. paul's, his parti-coloured robes jingling with golden bells; and queen elizabeth, be-ruffled and be-fardingaled, has glanced at those gable-ends east of st. dunstan's, as she rode in her cumbrous plumed coach to thank god at st. paul's for the scattering and shattering of the armada. here cromwell, a king in all but name and twice a king by nature, received the keys of the city, as he rode to guildhall to preside at the banquet of the obsequious mayor. william of orange and queen anne both clattered over these stones to return thanks for victories over the french; and old george iii. honoured the street when, with his handsome but worthless son, he came to thank god for his partial restoration from that darker region than the valley of the shadow of death, insanity. we recall many odd and pleasant figures in this street; first the old printers who succeeded caxton, who published for shakespeare or who timidly speculated in milton's epic, that great product of a sorry age; next, the old bankers, who, at child's and hoare's, laid the foundations of permanent wealth, and from simple city goldsmiths were gradually transformed to great capitalists. izaak walton, honest shopkeeper and patient angler, eyes us from his latticed window near chancery lane; and close by we see the child cowley reading the "fairy queen" in a window-seat, and already feeling in himself the inspiration of his later years. the lesser celebrities of later times call to us as we pass. garrick's friend hardham, of the snuff-shop; and that busy, vain demagogue, alderman waithman, whom cobbett abused because he was not zealous enough for poor hunted queen caroline. then there is the shop where barometers were first sold, the great watchmakers, tompion and pinchbeck, to chronicle, and the two churches to notice. st. dunstan's is interesting for its early preachers, the good romaine and the pious baxter; and st. bride's has anecdotes and legends of its own, and a peal of bells which have in their time excited as much admiration as those giant hammermen at the old st. dunstan's clock, which are now in regent's park. the newspaper offices, too, furnish many curious illustrations of the progress of that great organ of modern civilisation, the press. at the "devil" we meet ben jonson and his club; and at john murray's old shop we stop to see byron lunging with his stick at favourite volumes on the shelves, to the bookseller's great but concealed annoyance. nor do we forget to sketch dr. johnson at temple bar, bantered by his fellow jacobite, goldsmith, about the warning heads upon the gate; at child's bank pausing to observe the dinnerless authors returning downcast at the rejection of brilliant but fruitless proposals; or stopping with boswell, one hand upon a street post, to shake the night air with his cyclopean laughter. varied as the colours in a kaleidoscope are the figures that will meet us in these perambulations; mutable as an opal are the feelings they arouse. to the man of facts they furnish facts; to the man of imagination, quick-changing fancies; to the man of science, curious memoranda; to the historian, bright-worded details, that vivify old pictures now often dim in tone; to the man of the world, traits of manners; to the general thinker, aspects of feelings and of passions which expand the knowledge of human nature; for all these many-coloured stones are joined by the one golden string of london's history. but if fleet street itself is rich in associations, its side streets, north and south, are yet richer. here anecdote and story are clustered in even closer compass. in these side binns lies hid the choicest wine, for when fleet street had, long since, become two vast rows of shops, authors, wits, poets, and memorable persons of all kinds, still inhabited the "closes" and alleys that branch from the main thoroughfare. nobles and lawyers long dwelt round st. dunstan's and st. bride's. scholars, poets, and literati of all kind, long sought refuge from the grind and busy roar of commerce in the quiet inns and "closes," north and south. in what was shire lane we come upon the great kit-kat club, where addison, garth, steele, and congreve disported; and we look in on that very evening when the duke of kingston, with fatherly pride, brought his little daughter, afterwards lady mary wortley montagu, and, setting her on the table, proposed her as a toast. following the lane down till it becomes a nest of coiners, thieves, and bullies, we pass on to bell yard, to call on pope's lawyer friend, fortescue; and in chancery lane we are deep among the lawyers again. ghosts of jarndyces _v._ jarndyces, from the middle ages downwards, haunt this thoroughfare, where wolsey once lived in his pride and state. izaak walton dwelt in this lane once upon a time; and that mischievous adviser of charles i., earl strafford, was born here. hazlitt resided in southampton buildings when he fell in love with the tailor's daughter and wrote that most stultifying confession of his vanity and weakness, "the new pygmalion." fetter lane brings us fresh stores of subjects, all essentially connected with the place, deriving an interest from and imparting a new interest to it. praise-god-barebones, dryden, otway, baxter, and mrs. brownrigg form truly a strange bouquet. by mutual contrast the incongruous group serves, however, to illustrate various epochs of london life, and the background serves to explain the actions and the social position of each and all these motley beings. in crane court, the early home of the royal society, newton is the central personage, and we tarry to sketch the progress of science and to smile at the crudity of its early experiments and theories. in bolt court we pause to see a great man die. here especially dr. johnson's figure ever stands like a statue, and we shall find his black servant at the door and his dependents wrangling in the front parlour. burke and boswell are on their way to call, and reynolds is taking coach in the adjoining street. nor is even shoe lane without its associations, for at the north-east end the corpse of poor, dishonoured chatterton lies still under some neglected rubbish heap; and close by the brilliant cavalier poet, lovelace, pined and perished, almost in beggary. the southern side of fleet street is somewhat less noticeable. still, in salisbury square the worthy old printer richardson, amid the din of a noisy office, wrote his great and pathetic novels; while in mitre buildings charles lamb held those delightful conversations, so full of quaint and kindly thoughts, which were shared in by hazlitt and all the odd people lamb has immortalised in his "elia"--bibulous burney, george dyer, holcroft, coleridge, hone, godwin, and leigh hunt. whitefriars and blackfriars are our next places of pilgrimage, and they open up quite new lines of reading and of thought. though the great fire swept them bare, no district of london has preserved its old lines so closely; and, walking in whitefriars, we can still stare through the gate that once barred off the brawling copper captains of charles ii.'s alsatia from the contemptuous templars of king's bench walk. whitefriars was at first a carmelite convent, founded, before blackfriars, on land given by edward i.; the chapter-house was given by henry vii. to his physician, dr. butts (a man mentioned by shakespeare), and in the reign of edward vi. the church was demolished. whitefriars then, though still partially inhabited by great people, soon sank into a sanctuary for runaway bankrupts, cheats, and gamblers. the hall of the monastery was turned into a theatre, where many of dryden's plays first appeared. the players favoured this quarter, where, in the reign of james i., two henchmen of lord sanquire, a revengeful young scottish nobleman, shot at his own door a poor fencing-master, who had accidentally put out their master's eye several years before in a contest of skill. the two men were hung opposite the whitefriars gate in fleet street. this disreputable and lawless nest of river-side alleys was called alsatia, from its resemblance to the seat of the war then raging on the frontiers of france, in the dominions of king james's son-in-law, the prince palatine. its roystering bullies and shifty money-lenders are admirably sketched by shadwell in his _squire of alsatia_, an excellent comedy freely used by sir walter scott in his "fortunes of nigel," who has laid several of his strongest scenes in this once scampish region. that great scholar selden lived in whitefriars with the countess dowager of kent, whom he was supposed to have married; and, singularly enough, the best edition of his works was printed in dogwell court, whitefriars, by those eminent printers, bowyer & son. at the back of whitefriars we come upon bridewell, the site of a palace of the norman kings. cardinal wolsey afterwards owned the house, which henry viii. reclaimed in his rough and not very scrupulous manner. it was the old palace to which henry summoned all the priors and abbots of england, and where he first announced his intention of divorcing katherine of arragon. after this it fell into decay. the good ridley, the martyr, begged it of edward vi. for a workhouse and a school. hogarth painted the female prisoners here beating hemp under the lash of a cruel turnkey; and pennant has left a curious sketch of the herd of girls whom he saw run like hounds to be fed when a gaoler entered. if whitefriars was inhabited by actors, blackfriars was equally favoured by players and by painters. the old convent, removed from holborn, was often used for parliaments. charles v. lodged here when he came over to win henry against francis; and burbage, the great player of "richard the third," built a theatre in blackfriars, because the precinct was out of the jurisdiction of the city, then ill-disposed to the players. shakespeare had a house here, which he left to his favourite daughter, the deed of conveyance of which sold, in , for £ s. he must have thought of his well-known neighbourhood when he wrote the scenes of henry viii., where katherine was divorced and wolsey fell, for both events were decided in blackfriars parliaments. oliver, the great miniature painter, and jansen, a favourite portrait painter of james i., lived in blackfriars, where we shall call upon them; and vandyke spent nine happy years here by the river side. the most remarkable event connected with blackfriars is the falling in of the floor of a roman catholic private chapel in , by which fifty-nine persons perished, including the priest, to the exultation of the puritans, who pronounced the event a visitation of heaven on popish superstition. pamphlets of the time, well rummaged by us, describe the scene with curious exactness, and mention the singular escapes of several persons on the "fatal vespers," as they were afterwards called. leaving the racket of alsatia and its wild doings behind us, we come next to that great monastery of lawyers, the temple--like whitefriars and blackfriars, also the site of a bygone convent. the warlike templars came here in their white cloaks and red crosses from their first establishment in southampton buildings, and they held it during all the crusades, in which they fought so valorously against the paynim, till they grew proud and corrupt, and were suspected of worshipping idols and ridiculing christianity. their work done, they perished, and the knights of st. john took possession of their halls, church, and cloisters. the incoming lawyers became tenants of the crown, and the parade-ground of the templars and the river-side terrace and gardens were tenanted by more peaceful occupants. the manners and customs of the lawyers of various ages, their quaint revels, fox-huntings in hall, and dances round the coal fire, deserve special notice; and swarms of anecdotes and odd sayings and doings buzz round us as we write of the various denizens of the temple--dr. johnson, goldsmith, lamb, coke, plowden, jefferies, cowper, butler, parsons, sheridan, and tom moore; and we linger at the pretty little fountain and think of those who have celebrated its praise. every binn of this cellar of lawyers has its story, and a volume might well be written in recording the toils and struggles, successes and failures, of the illustrious owners of temple chambers. thence we pass to ludgate, where that old london inn, the "belle sauvage," calls up associations of the early days of theatres, especially of banks and his wonderful performing horse, that walked up one of the towers of old st. paul's. hone's old shop reminds us of the delightful books he published, aided by lamb and leigh hunt. the old entrance of the city, ludgate, has quite a history of its own. it was a debtors' prison, rebuilt in the time of king john from the remains of demolished jewish houses, and was enlarged by the widow of stephen forster, lord mayor in the reign of henry vi., who, tradition says, had been himself a prisoner in ludgate, till released by a rich widow, who saw his handsome face through the grate and married him. st. martin's church, ludgate, is one of wren's churches, and is chiefly remarkable for its stolid conceit in always getting in the way of the west front of st. paul's. the great cathedral has been the scene of events that illustrate almost every age of english history. this is the third st. paul's. the first, falsely supposed to have been built on the site of a roman temple of diana, was burnt down in the last year of william the conqueror. innumerable events connected with the history of the city happened here, from the killing a bishop at the north door, in the reign of edward ii., to the public exposure of richard ii.'s body after his murder; while at the cross in the churchyard the authorities of the city, and even our kings, often attended the public sermons, and in the same place the citizens once held their folkmotes, riotous enough on many an occasion. great men's tombs abounded in old st. paul's--john of gaunt, lord bacon's father, sir philip sydney, donne, the poet, and vandyke being very prominent among them. fired by lightning in elizabeth's reign, when the cathedral had become a resort of newsmongers and a thoroughfare for porters and carriers, it was partly rebuilt in charles i.'s reign by inigo jones. the repairs were stopped by the civil wars, when the puritans seized the funds, pulled down the scaffolding, and turned the church into a cavalry barracks. the great fire swept all clear for wren, who now found a fine field for his genius; but vexatious difficulties embarrassed him at the very outset. his first great plan was rejected, and the duke of york (afterwards james ii.) is said to have insisted on side recesses, that might serve as chantry chapels when the church became roman catholic. wren was accused of delays and chidden for the faults of petty workmen, and, as the duchess of marlborough laughingly remarked, was dragged up and down in a basket two or three times a week for a paltry £ a year. the narrow escape of sir james thornhill from falling from a scaffold while painting the dome is a tradition of st. paul's, matched by the terrible adventure of mr. gwyn, who when measuring the dome slid down the convex surface till his foot was stayed by a small projecting lump of lead. this leads us naturally on to the curious monomaniac who believed himself the slave of a demon who lived in the bell of the cathedral, and whose case is singularly deserving of analysis. we shall give a short sketch of the heroes whose tombs have been admitted into st. paul's, and having come to those of the great demi-gods of the old wars, nelson and wellington, pass to anecdotes about the clock and bells, and arrive at the singular story of the soldier whose life was saved by his proving that he had heard st. paul's clock strike thirteen. queen anne's statue in the churchyard, too, has given rise to epigrams worthy of preservation, and the progress of the restoration will be carefully detailed. [illustration: the old wooden temple bar (_see page _).] cheapside, famous from the saxon days, next invites our wandering feet. the north side remained an open field as late as edward iii.'s reign, and tournaments were held there. the knights, whose deeds froissart has immortalised, broke spears there, in the presence of the queen and her ladies, who smiled on their champions from a wooden tower erected across the street. afterwards a stone shed was raised for the same sights, and there henry viii., disguised as a yeoman, with a halbert on his shoulder, came on one occasion to see the great city procession of the night watch by torchlight on st. john's eve. wren afterwards, when he rebuilt bow church, provided a balcony in the tower for the royal family to witness similar pageants. old bow church, we must not forget to record, was seized in the reign of richard i. by longbeard, the desperate ringleader of a saxon rising, who was besieged there, and eventually burned out and put to death. the great cross of cheapside recalls many interesting associations, for it was one of the nine eleanor crosses. regilt for many coronations, it was eventually pulled down by the puritans during the civil wars. then there was the standard, near bow church, where wat tyler and jack cade beheaded several objectionable nobles and citizens; and the great conduit at the east end--each with its memorable history. but the great feature of cheapside is, after all, guildhall. this is the hall that whittington paved and where walworth once ruled. in guildhall lady jane grey and her husband were tried; here the jesuit garnet was arraigned for his share in the gunpowder plot; here it was charles i. appealed to the common council to arrest hampden and the other patriots who had fled from his eager claws into the friendly city; and here, in the spot still sacred to liberty, the lords and parliament declared for the prince of orange. to pass this spot without some salient anecdotes of the various lord mayors would be a disgrace; and the banquets themselves, from that of whittington, when he threw henry v.'s bonds for £ , into a spice bonfire, to those in the present reign, deserve some notice and comment. the curiosities of guildhall in themselves are not to be lightly passed over, for they record many vicissitudes of the great city; and gog and magog are personages of importance only secondary to that of lord mayor, and not in any way to be disregarded. the mansion house, built in , leads us to much chat about "gold chains, warm furs, broad banners and broad faces;" for a folio might be well filled with curious anecdotes of the lord mayors of various ages--from sir john norman, who first went in procession to westminster by water, to sir john shorter (james ii.), who was killed by a fall from his horse as he stopped at newgate, according to custom, to take a tankard of wine, nutmeg, and sugar. there is a word to say of many a celebrity in the long roll of mayors--more especially of beckford, who is said to have startled george iii. by a violent patriotic remonstrance, and of the notorious john wilkes, that ugly demagogue, who led the city in many an attack on the king and his unwise ministers. [illustration: burning the pope in effigy at temple bar (_see page _).] the tributaries of cheapside also abound in interest, and mark various stages in the history of the great city. bread street was the bread market of the time of edward i., and is especially honoured for being the birthplace of milton; and in milk street (the old milk market) sir thomas more was born. gutter lane reminds us of its first danish owner; and many other turnings have their memorable legends and traditions. the halls of the city companies, the great hospitals, and gothic schools, will each by turn detain us; and we shall not forget to call at the bank, the south-sea house, and other great proofs of past commercial folly and present wealth. the bank, projected by a scotch theorist in (william iii.), after many migrations, settled down in threadneedle street in . it has a history of its own, and we shall see during the gordon riots the old pewter inkstands melted down for bullets, and, prodigy of prodigies! wilkes himself rushing out to seize the cowardly ringleaders! by many old houses of good pedigree and by several city churches worthy a visit, we come at last to the monument, which wren erected and which cibber decorated. this pillar, which pope compared to "a tall bully," once bore an inscription that greatly offended the court. it attributed the great fire of london, which began close by there, to the popish faction; but the words were erased in . littleton, who compiled the dictionary, once wrote a latin inscription for the monument, which contained the names of seven lord mayors in one word:-- "fordo-watermanno-harrisono-hookero-vinero-sheldono-davisonam." but the learned production was, singularly enough, never used. the word, which littleton called "an heptastic vocable," comprehended the names of the seven lord mayors in whose mayoralties the monument was begun, continued, and completed. on london bridge we might linger for many chapters. the first bridge thrown over the thames was a wooden one, erected by the nuns of st. mary's monastery, a convent of sisters endowed by the daughter of a rich thames ferryman. the bridge figures as a fortified place in the early danish invasions, and the norwegian prince olaf nearly dragged it to pieces in trying to dispossess the danes, who held it in . it was swept away in a flood, and its successor was burnt. in the reign of henry ii., pious peter, a chaplain of st. mary colechurch, in the poultry, built a stone bridge a little further west, and the king helped him with the proceeds of a tax on wool, which gave rise to the old saying that "london bridge was built upon woolpacks." peter's bridge was a curious structure, with nineteen pointed arches and a drawbridge. there was a fortified gatehouse at each end, and a gothic chapel towards the centre, dedicated to st. thomas à becket, the spurious martyr of canterbury. in queen elizabeth's reign there were shops on either side, with flat roofs, arbours, and gardens, and at the south end rose a great four-storey wooden house, brought from holland, which was covered with carving and gilding. in the middle ages, london bridge was the scene of affrays of all kinds. soon after it was built, the houses upon it caught fire at both ends, and , persons perished, wedged in among the flames. henry iii. was driven back here by the rebellious de montfort, earl of leicester. wat tyler entered the city by london bridge; and, later, richard ii. was received here with gorgeous ceremonies. it was the scene of one of henry v.'s greatest triumphs, and also of his stately funeral procession. jack cade seized london bridge, and as he passed slashed in two the ropes of the drawbridge, though soon after his head was stuck on the gatehouse. from this bridge the rebel wyatt was driven by the guns of the tower; and in elizabeth's reign water-works were erected on the bridge. there was a great conflagration on the bridge in , and eventually the great fire almost destroyed it. in the middle ages countless rebels' heads were stuck on the gate-houses of london bridge. brave wallace's was placed there; and so were the heads of henry viii.'s victims--fisher, bishop of rochester and sir thomas more, the latter trophy being carried off by the stratagem of his brave daughter. garnet, the gunpowder-plot jesuit, also contributed to the ghastly triumphs of justice. several celebrated painters, including hogarth, lived at one time or another on the bridge; and swift and pope used to frequent the shop of a witty bookseller, who lived under the northern gate. one or two celebrated suicides have taken place at london bridge, and among these we may mention that of sir william temple's son, who was secretary of war, and eustace budgell, a broken-down author, who left behind him as an apology the following sophism:-- "what cato did and addison approved of cannot be wrong." pleasanter is it to remember the anecdote of the brave apprentice, who leaped into the thames from the window of a house on the bridge to save his master's infant daughter, whom a careless nurse had dropped into the river. when the girl grew up, many noble suitors came, but the generous father was obdurate. "no," said the honest citizen; "osborne saved her, and osborne shall have her." and so he had; and osborne's great grandson throve and became the first duke of leeds. the frequent loss of lives in shooting the arches of the old bridge, where the fall was at times five feet, led at last to a cry for a new bridge, and one was commenced in . rennie designed it, and in william iv. and queen adelaide opened it. one hundred and twenty thousand tons of stone went to its formation. the old bridge was not entirely removed till , when the bones of the builder, pious peter of colechurch, were found in the crypt of the central chapel, where tradition had declared they lay. the iron of the piles of the old bridge was bought by a cutler in the strand, and produced steel of the highest quality. part of the old stone was purchased by alderman harmer, to build his house, ingress abbey, near greenhithe. southwark, a roman station and cemetery, is by no means without a history. it was burned by william the conqueror, and had been the scene of battle against the danes. it possessed palaces, monasteries, a mint, and fortifications. the bishops of winchester and rochester once lived here in splendour; and the locality boasted its four elizabethan theatres. the globe was shakespeare's summer theatre, and here it was that his greatest triumphs were attained. what was acted there is best told by making shakespeare's share in the management distinctly understood; nor can we leave southwark without visiting the "tabard inn," from whence chaucer's nine-and-twenty jovial pilgrims set out for canterbury. the tower rises next before our eyes; and as we pass under its battlements the grimmest and most tragic scenes of english history seem again rising before us. whether cæsar first built a tower here or william the conqueror, may never be decided; but one thing is certain, that more tears have been shed within these walls than anywhere else in london. every stone has its story. here wallace, in chains, thought of scotland; here queen anne boleyn placed her white hands round her slender neck, and said the headsman would have little trouble. here catharine howard, sir thomas more, cranmer, northumberland, lady jane grey, wyatt, and the earl of essex all perished. here, clarence was drowned in a butt of wine and the two boy princes were murdered. many victims of kings, many kingly victims, have here perished. many patriots have here sighed for liberty. the poisoning of overbury is a mystery of the tower, the perusal of which never wearies though the dark secret be unsolvable; and we can never cease to sympathise with that brave woman, the countess of nithsdale, who risked her life to save her husband's. from laud and strafford we turn to eliot and hutchinson--for cavaliers and puritans were both by turns prisoners in the tower. from lord william russell and algernon sydney we come down in the chronicle of suffering to the jacobites of and ; from them to wilkes, lord george gordon, burdett, and, last of all the tower prisoners, to the infamous thistlewood. leaving the crimson scaffold on tower hill, we return as sightseers to glance over the armoury and to catch the sparkle of the royal jewels. here is the identical crown that that daring villain blood stole and the heart-shaped ruby that the black prince once wore; here we see the swords, sceptres, and diadems of many of our monarchs. in the armoury are suits on which many lances have splintered and swords struck; the imperishable steel clothes of many a dead king are here, unchanged since the owners doffed them. this suit was the earl of leicester's--the "kenilworth" earl, for see his cognizance of the bear and ragged staff on the horse's chanfron. this richly-gilt suit was worn by james i.'s ill-starred son, prince henry, whom many thought was poisoned by buckingham; and this quaint mask, with ram's horns and spectacles, belonged to will somers, henry viii.'s jester. from the tower we break away into the far east, among the old clothes shops, the bird markets, the costermongers, and the weavers of whitechapel and spitalfields. we are far from jewels here and court splendour, and we come to plain working people and their homely ways. spitalfields was the site of a priory of augustine canons, however, and has ancient traditions of its own. the weavers, of french origin, are an interesting race--we shall have to sketch their sayings and doings; and we shall search whitechapel diligently for old houses and odd people. the district may not furnish so many interesting scenes and anecdotes as the west end, but it is well worthy of study from many modern points of view. smithfield and holborn are regions fertile in associations. smithfield, that broad plain, the scene of so many martyrdoms, tournaments, and executions, forms an interesting subject for a diversified chapter. in this market-place the ruffians of henry viii.'s time met to fight out their quarrels with sword and buckler. here the brave wallace was executed like a common robber; and here "the gentle mortimer" was led to a shameful death. the spot was the scene of great jousts in edward iii.'s chivalrous reign, when, after the battle of poictiers, the kings of france and scotland came seven days running to see spears shivered and "the lady of the sun" bestow the prizes of valour. in this same field walworth slew the rebel wat tyler, who had treated richard ii. with insolence, and by this prompt blow dispersed the insurgents, who had grown so dangerously strong. in henry viii.'s reign poisoners were boiled to death in smithfield; and in cruel mary's reign the protestant martyrs were burned in the same place. "of the two hundred and seventy-seven persons burnt for heresy in mary's reign," says a modern antiquary, "the greater number perished in smithfield;" and ashes and charred bodies have been dug up opposite to the gateway of bartholomew's church and at the west end of long lane. after the great fire the houseless citizens were sheltered here in tents. over against the corner where the great fire abated is cock lane, the scene of the rapping ghost, in which dr. johnson believed and concerning which goldsmith wrote a catchpenny pamphlet. holborn and its tributaries come next, and are by no means deficient in legends and matter of general interest. "the original name of the street was the hollow bourne," says a modern etymologist, "not the old bourne;" it was not paved till the reign of henry v. the ride up "the heavy hill" from newgate to tyburn has been sketched by hogarth and sung by swift. in ely place once lived the bishop of ely; and in hatton garden resided queen elizabeth's favourite, the dancing chancellor, sir christopher hatton. in furnival's inn dickens wrote "pickwick." in barnard's inn died the last of the alchemists. in staple's inn dr. johnson wrote "rasselas," to pay the expenses of his mother's funeral. in brooke street, where chatterton poisoned himself, lived lord brooke, a poet and statesman, who was a patron of ben jonson and shakespeare, and who was assassinated by a servant whose name he had omitted in his will. milton lived for some time in a house in holborn that opened at the back on lincoln's inn fields. fox court leads us to the curious inquiry whether savage, the poet, was a conscious or an unconscious impostor; and at the blue boar inn cromwell and ireton discovered by stratagem the treacherous letter of king charles to his queen, that rendered cromwell for ever the king's enemy. these are only a few of the countless associations of holborn. newgate is a gloomy but an interesting subject for us. many wild faces have stared through its bars since, in king john's time, it became a city prison. we shall look in on sarah malcolm, mrs. brownrigg, jack sheppard, governor wall, and other interesting criminals; we shall stand at wren's elbow when he designs the new prison, and follow the gordon rioters when they storm in over the burning walls. the strand stands next to fleet street as a central point of old memories. it is not merely full, it positively teems. for centuries it was a fashionable street, and noblemen inhabited the south side especially, for the sake of the river. in essex street, on a part of the temple, queen elizabeth's rash favourite (the earl of essex) was besieged, after his hopeless foray into the city. in arundel street lived the earls of arundel; in buckingham street charles i.'s greedy favourite began a palace. there were royal palaces, too, in the strand, for at the savoy lived john of gaunt; and somerset house was built by the protector somerset with the stones of the churches he had pulled down. henrietta maria (charles i.'s queen) and poor neglected catherine of braganza dwelt at somerset house; and it was here that sir edmondbury godfrey, the zealous protestant magistrate, was supposed to have been murdered. there is, too, the history of lord burleigh's house (in cecil street) to record; and northumberland house still stands to recall to us its many noble inmates. on the other side of the strand we have to note butcher row (now pulled down), where the gunpowder plot conspirators met; exeter house, where lord burleigh's wily son lived; and, finally, exeter 'change, where the poet gay lay in state. nor shall we forget cross's menagerie and the elephant chunee; nor omit mention of many of the eccentric old shopkeepers who once inhabited the 'change. at charing cross we shall stop to see the old cromwellians die bravely, and to stare at the pillory, where in their time many incomparable scoundrels ignominiously stood. the nelson column and the surrounding statues have stories of their own; and st. martin's lane is specially interesting as the haunt of half the painters of the early georgian era. there are anecdotes of hogarth and his friends to be picked up here in abundance, and the locality generally deserves exploration, from the quaintness and cleverness of its former inhabitants. in covent garden we break fresh ground. we found st. martin's lane full of artists, guildhall full of aldermen, the strand full of noblemen--the old monastic garden will prove to be crowded with actors. we shall trace the market from the first few sheds under the wall of bedford house to the present grand temple of flora and pomona. we shall see evans's a new mansion, inhabited by ben jonson's friend and patron, sir kenelm digby, alternately tenanted by sir harry vane, denzil holles (one of the five refractory members whom charles i. went to the house of commons so imprudently to seize), and admiral russell, who defeated the french at la hogue. the ghost of parson ford, in which johnson believed, awaits us at the doorway of the hummums. there are several duels to witness in the piazza; dryden to call upon as he sits, the arbiter of wits, by the fireside at will's coffee house; addison is to be found at button's; at the "bedford" we shall meet garrick and quin, and stop a moment at tom king's, close to st. paul's portico, to watch hogarth's revellers fight with swords and shovels, that frosty morning that the painter sketched the prim old maid going to early service. we shall look in at the tavistock to see sir peter lely and sir godfrey kneller at work at portraits of beauties of the carolean and jacobean courts; remembering that in the same rooms sir james thornhill afterwards painted, and poor richard wilson produced those fine landscapes which so few had the taste to buy. the old hustings deserve a word, and we shall have to record the lamentable murder of miss ray by her lover, at the north-east angle of the square. the neighbourhood of covent garden, too, is rife with stories of great actors and painters, and nearly every house furnishes its quota of anecdote. the history of drury lane and covent garden theatres supplies us with endless anecdotes of actors, and with humorous and pathetic narratives that embrace the whole region both of tragedy and comedy. quin's jokes, garrick's weaknesses, the celebrated o.p. riots, contrast with the miserable end of some popular favourites and the caprices of genius. the oddities of munden, the humour of liston, only serve to render the gloom of kean's downfall more terrible, and to show the wreck and ruin of many unhappy men, equally wilful though less gifted. there is a perennial charm about theatrical stories, and the history of these theatres must be illustrated by many a sketch of the loves and rivalries of actors, their fantastic tricks, their practical jokes, their gay progress to success or ruin. changes of popular taste are marked by the change of character in the pieces that have been performed in various ages; and the history of the two theatres will include various illustrative sketches of dramatic writers, as well as actors. there was a vast interval in literature between the tragedies of addison and murphey and the comedies of holcroft, o'keefe, and morton; the descent to modern melodrama and burlesque must be traced through various gradations, and the reasons shown for the many modifications both classes of entertainments have undergone. westminster, from the night st. peter came over from lambeth in the fisherman's boat, and chose a site for the abbey in the midst of thorney island, to the present day, has been a spot where the pilgrim to historic shrines loves to linger. need we remind our readers that edward the confessor built the abbey, or that william the conqueror was crowned here, the ceremony ending in tumult and blood? how vast the store of facts from which we have to cull! we see the jews being beaten nearly to death for daring to attend the coronation of richard i.; we observe edward i. watching the sacred stone of scotland being placed beneath his coronation chair; we behold for the first time, at richard ii.'s coronation, the champion riding into the hall, to challenge all who refuse allegiance; we see, at the funeral of anne of bohemia, richard beating the earl of arundel for wishing to leave before the service is over. we hear the _te deum_ that is sung for the victory of agincourt, and watch henry vi. selecting a site for a resting-place; we hear for the last time, at the coronation of henry viii., the sanction of the pope bestowed upon an english monarch; we pity poor queen caroline attempting to enter the abbey to see her worthless husband crowned; and we view the last coronation, and draw auguries of a purer if not a happier age. the old hall, too; could we neglect that ancient chamber, where charles i. was sentenced to death, and where cromwell was throned in almost regal splendour? we must see it in all its special moments; when the seven bishops were acquitted, and the shout of joy shook london as with an earthquake; and when the rebel lords were tried. we must hear lord byron tried for his duel with mr. chaworth, and mad lord ferrers condemned for shooting his steward. we shall get a side-view of the shameless duchess of kingston, and hear burke and sheridan grow eloquent over the misdeeds of warren hastings. [illustration: bridewell in (_see page _).] the parks now draw us westward, and we wander through them: in st. james's seeing charles ii. feeding his ducks or playing "pall-mall;" in hyde park observing the fashions and extravagancies of many generations. romeo coates will whisk past us in his fantastic chariot, and the beaus and oddities of many generations will pace past us in review. there will be celebrated duels to describe, and various strange follies to deride. we shall see cromwell thrown from his coach, and shall witness the foot-races that pepys describes. dryden's gallants and masked ladies will receive some mention; and we shall tell of bygone encampments and of many events now almost forgotten. kensington will recall many anecdotes of william of orange, his beloved queen, stupid prince george of denmark, and george ii., who all died at the palace, the old seat of the finches. we are sure to find good company in the gardens. still as when tickell sang, every walk "seems from afar a moving tulip bed, where rich brocades and glossy damasks glow, and chintz, the rival of the showery bow." there is newton's house at south kensington to visit, and wilkie's and mrs. inchbald's; and, above all, there is holland house, the scene of the delightful whig coteries of tom moore's time. here addison lived to regret his marriage with a lady of rank, and here he died. at kensington charles james fox spent his youth. [illustration: part of modern london, showing the ancient wall (_see page _).] and now chelsea brings us pleasant recollections of sir thomas more, swift, sir robert walpole, and atterbury. "chelsith," sir thomas more used to call it when holbein was lodging in his house and king henry, who afterwards beheaded his old friend, used to come to dinner, and after dinner walk round the fair garden with his arm round his host's neck. more was fond of walking on the flat roof of his gatehouse, which commanded a pleasant prospect of the thames and the fields beyond. let us hope the tradition is not true that he used to bind heretics to a tree in his garden. in chelsea only contained houses, and these in had grown to , . there is cheyne walk, so called from the lords cheyne, owners of the manor; and we must not forget don saltero and his famous coffee-house, the oddities of which steele pleasantly sketched in the tatler. the don was famous for his skill in brewing punch and for his excellent playing on the fiddle. saltero was a barber, who drew teeth, drew customers, wrote verses, and collected curiosities. "some relics of the sheban queen and fragments of the famed bob crusoe." swift lodged at chelsea, over against the jacobite bishop atterbury, who so nearly lost his head. in one of his delightful letters to stella swift describes "the old original chelsea bun house," and the r-r-r-r-rare chelsea buns. he used to leave his best gown and perriwig at mrs. vanhomrig's, in suffolk street, then walk up pall mall, through the park, out at buckingham house, and on to chelsea, a little beyond the church ( , steps), he says, in less than an hour, which was leisurely walking even for the contemplative and observant dean. smollet laid a scene of his "humphrey clinker" in chelsea, where he lived for some time. the princess elizabeth, when a girl, lived at chelsea, with that dangerous man, with whom she is said to have fallen in love, the lord admiral seymour, afterwards beheaded. he was the second husband of katherine parr, one of the many wives of elizabeth's father. cremorne was, in walpole's days, the villa of lord cremorne, an irish nobleman; and near here, at a river-side cottage died, in miserly and cynical obscurity, the greatest of our modern landscape painters, turner. then there is chelsea hospital to visit. this hospital was built by wren; charles ii., it is said at nell gwynn's suggestion, originated the good work, which was finished by william and mary. dr. arbuthnot, that good man so beloved by the pope set, was physician here, and the rev. philip francis, who translated horace, was chaplain. nor can we leave chelsea without remembering sir hans sloane, whose collection of antiquities, sold for £ , , formed the first nucleus of the british museum, and who resided at chelsea; nor shall we forget the chelsea china manufactory, one of the earliest porcelain manufactories in england, patronized by george ii., who brought over german artificers from brunswick and saxony. in the reign of louis xv. the french manufacturers began to regard it with jealousy and petitioned their king for special privileges. ranelagh, too, that old pleasure-garden which dr. johnson declared was "the finest thing he had ever seen," deserves a word; horace walpole was constantly there, though at first, he owns, he preferred vauxhall; and lord chesterfield was so fond of it that he used to say he should order all his letters to be directed there. the west end squares are pleasant spots for our purpose, and at many doors we shall have to make a call. in landsdowne house (in berkeley square) it is supposed by many that lord shelburne, colonel barre, and dunning wrote "junius"; certain it is that the marquis of landsdowne, in , acknowledged the possession of the secret, but died the following week, before he could disclose it. here, in , that persecuted philosopher, dr. priestley, the librarian to lord shelburne, discovered oxygen. in this square horace walpole (that delightful letter-writer) died and lord clive destroyed himself. then there is grosvenor square, where that fat, easy-going minister, lord north, lived, where wilkes the notorious resided, and where the cato-street conspirators planned to kill all the cabinet ministers, who had been invited to dinner by the earl of harrowby. in hanover square we visit lord rodney, &c. in st. james's square we recall william iii. coming to the earl of romney's to see fireworks let off and, later, the prince regent, from a balcony, displaying to the people the eagles captured at waterloo. queen caroline resided here during her trial, and many of charles ii.'s frail beauties also resided in the same spot. in cavendish square we stop to describe the splendid projects of that great duke of chandos whom pope ridiculed. nor are the lesser squares by any means devoid of interest. in pall mall the laziest gleaner of london traditions might find a harvest. on the site of carlton house--the prince regent's palace--were, in the reign of henry vi., monastic buildings, in which (reign of henry viii.) erasmus afterwards resided. they were pulled down at the reformation. nell gwynn lived here, and so did sir william temple, swift's early patron, the pious boyle, and that poor puff-ball of vanity and pretence--bubb doddington. here we have to record the unhappy duel at the "star and garter" tavern between lord byron and mr. chaworth, and the murder of mr. thynne by his rival, count köningsmark. there is boydell's shakespeare gallery to notice, and dodsley's shop, which burke, johnson, and garrick so often visited. there is also the origin of the royal academy, at a house opposite market lane, to chronicle, many club-houses to visit, and curious memorabilia of all kinds to be sifted, selected, contrasted, mounted, and placed in sequence for view. then comes marylebone, formerly a suburb, famous only for its hunting park (now regent's park), its gardens, and its bowling-greens. in queen elizabeth's time the russian ambassadors were sent to hunt in marylebone park; cromwell sold it--deer, timber, and all--for £ , . the marylebone bowling greens, which preceded the gardens, were at first the resort of noblemen and gentlemen, but eventually highwaymen began to frequent them. the duke of buckingham (whom lady mary wortley montagu glances at in the line, "some dukes at marybone bowl time away") used, at an annual dinner to the frequenters of the gardens, to give the agreeable toast,--"may as many of us as remain unhanged next spring meet here again." eventually burlettas were produced--one written by chatterton; and dr. arne conducted handel's music. marylebone, in the time of hogarth, was a favourite place for prize fights and back-sword combats, the great champion being figg, that bullet-headed man with the bald, plaistered head, whom hogarth has represented mounting grim sentry in his "southwark fair." the great building at marylebone began between and . in there were only houses in the parish; in there were , . in many of the nooks and corners of marylebone we shall find curious facts and stories worth the unravelling. [illustration: plan of roman london (_see page _).] the eastern squares, in bloomsbury and st. pancras, are regions not by any means to be lightly passed by. bloomsbury square was built by the earl of southampton, about the time of the restoration, and was thought one of the wonders of england. baxter lived here when he was tormented by judge jefferies; sir hans sloane was one of its inhabitants; so was that great physician, dr. radcliffe. the burning of mansfield house by lord george gordon's rioters has to be minutely described. in russell square we visit the houses of sir thomas lawrence and of judge talfourd, and search for that celebrated spot in london legend, "the field of the forty footsteps," where two brothers, it is said, killed each other in a duel for a lady, who sat by watching the fight. then there is red lion square, where tradition says some faithful adherents, at the restoration, buried the body of cromwell, to prevent its desecration at tyburn; and we have to cull some stories of a good old inhabitant, jonas hanway, the great promoter of many of the london charities, the first man who habitually used an umbrella and dr. johnson's spirited opponent on the important question of tea. soho square, too, has many a tradition, for the duke of monmouth lived there in great splendour; and in hogarth's time mrs. cornelys made the square celebrated by her masquerades, which in time became disreputable. sir cloudesley shovel, sir joseph banks, and burnet, the historian, were all inhabitants of this locality. islington brings us back to days when henry viii. came there to hawk the partridge and the heron, and when the london citizens wandered out across the northern fields to drink milk and eat cheesecakes. the old houses abound in legends of sir walter raleigh, topham, the strong man, george morland, the artist, and henderson, the actor. at canonbury, the old tower of the country house of the prior of st. bartholomew recalls to us goldsmith, who used to come there to hide from his creditors, go to bed early, and write steadily. at highgate and hampstead we shall scour the northern uplands of london by no means in vain, as we shall find belsize house, in charles ii.'s time, openly besieged by robbers and, long afterwards, highwaymen swarming in the same locality. the chalybeate wells of hampstead lead us on to the heath, where wolves were to be found in the twelfth century and highwaymen as late as . good company awaits us at pleasant hampstead--lord erskine, lord chatham, keats, akenside, leigh hunt, and sir fowell buxton; booth, wilkes, and colley cibber; mrs. barbauld, honest dick steele, and joanna baillie. as for highgate, for ages a mere hamlet, a forest, it once boasted a bishop's palace, and there we gather, with free hand, memories of sacheverell, rowe, dr. watts, hogarth, coleridge, and lord mansfield; ireton, marvell, and dick whittington, the worthy demi-god of london apprentices to the end of time. lambeth, where harold was crowned, can hold its own in interest with any part of london--for it once possessed two ecclesiastical palaces and many places of amusement. lambeth palace itself is a spot of extreme interest. here wat tyler's men dragged off archbishop sudbury to execution; here, when laud was seized, the parliamentary soldiers turned the palace into a prison for royalists and demolished the great hall. outside the walls of the church james ii.'s queen cowered in the december rain with her child, till a coach could be brought from the neighbouring inn to convey her to gravesend to take ship for france. the gordon rioters attacked the palace in , but were driven off by a detachment of guards. the lollards' tower has to be visited, and the sayings and doings of a long line of prelates to be reviewed. vauxhall brings us back to the days when walpole went with lady caroline petersham and helped to stew chickens in a china dish over a lamp; or we go further back and accompany addison and the worthy sir roger de coverley, and join them over a glass of burton ale and a slice of hung beef. astley's amphitheatre recalls to us many amusing stories of that old soldier, ducrow, and of his friends and rivals, which join on very naturally to those other theatrical traditions to which drury lane and covent garden have already led us. so we mean to roam from flower to flower, over as varied a garden as the imagination can well conceive. there have been brave workers before us in the field, and we shall build upon good foundations. we hope to be catholic in our selections; we shall prune away only the superfluous; we shall condense anecdotes only where we think we can make them pithier and racier. we will neglect no fact that is interesting, and blend together all that old time can give us bearing upon london. street by street we shall delve and rake for illustrative story, despising no book, however humble, no pamphlet, however obscure, if it only throws some light on the celebrities of london, its topographical history, its manners and customs. such is a brief summary of our plan. st. paul's rises before us with its great black dome and stately row of sable columns; the tower, with its central citadel, flanked by the spear-like masts of the river shipping; the great world of roofs spreads below us as we launch upon our venturous voyage of discovery. from boadicea leading on her scythed chariots at battle bridge to queen victoria in the thanksgiving procession of yesterday is a long period over which to range. we have whole generations of londoners to defile before us--painted britons, hooded saxons, mailed crusaders, chaucer's men in hoods, friars, citizens, warriors, shakespeare's friends, johnson's companions, goldsmith's jovial "bohemians," hogarth's fellow-painters, soldiers, lawyers, statesmen, merchants. nevertheless, at our spells they will gather from the four winds, and at our command march off to their old billets in their old houses, where we may best cross-examine them and collect their impressions of the life of their times. the subject is as entertaining as any dream imagination ever evoked and as varied as human nature. its classification is a certain bond of union, and will act as an excellent cement for the multiform stones with which we shall rear our building. lists of names, dry pedigrees, rows of dates, we leave to the herald and the topographer; but we shall pass by little that can throw light on the history of london in any generation, and we shall dwell more especially on the events of the later centuries, because they are more akin to us and are bound to us by closer sympathies. chapter i. roman london. buried london--our early relations--the founder of london--a distinguished visitor at romney marsh--cæsar re-visits the "town on the lake"--the borders of old london--cæsar fails to make much out of the britons--king _brown_--the derivation of the name of london--the queen of the iceni--london stone and london roads--london's earlier and newer walls--the site of st. paul's--fabulous claims to idolatrous renown--existing relics of roman london--treasures from the bed of the thames--what we tread underfoot in london--a vast field of story. eighteen feet below the level of cheapside lies hidden roman london, and deeper even than that is buried the earlier london of those savage charioteers who, long ages ago, bravely confronted the legions of rome. in nearly all parts of the city there have been discovered tesselated pavements, roman tombs, lamps, vases, sandals, keys, ornaments, weapons, coins, and statues of the ancient roman gods. so the present has grown up upon the ashes of the past. trees that are to live long grow slowly. slow and stately as an oak london grew and grew, till now nearly four million souls represent its leaves. our london is very old. centuries before christ there probably came the first few half-naked fishermen and hunters, who reared, with flint axes and such rude tools, some miserable huts on the rising ground that, forming the north bank of the thames, slopes to the river some sixty miles from where it joins the sea. according to some, the river spread out like a vast lake between the surrey and the essex hills in those times when the half-savage first settlers found the low slopes of the future london places of health and defence amid a vast and dismal region of fen, swamp, and forest. the heroism and the cruelties, the hopes and fears of those poor barbarians, darkness never to be removed has hidden from us for ever. in later days monkish historians, whom milton afterwards followed, ignored these poor early relations of ours and invented, as a more fitting ancestor of englishmen, brute, a fugitive nephew of Æneas of troy. but, stroll on where we will, the pertinacious savage, with his limbs stained blue and his flint axe red with blood, is a ghost not easily to be exorcised from the banks of the thames, and in some welsh veins his blood no doubt flows at this very day. the founder of london had no historian to record his hopes--a place where big salmon were to be found, and plenty of wild boars were to be met with, was probably his highest ambition. how he bartered with phoenicians or gauls for amber or iron no druid has recorded. how he slew the foraging belgæ, or was slain by them and dispossessed, no bard has sung. whether he was generous and heroic as the new zealander, or apelike and thievish as the bushman, no ethnologist has yet proved. the very ashes of the founder of london have long since turned to earth, air, and water. no doubt the few huts that formed early london were fought for over and over again, as wolves wrangle round a carcass. on cornhill there probably dwelt petty kings who warred with the kings of ludgate; and in southwark there lurked or burrowed other chiefs who, perhaps by intrigue or force, struggled for centuries to get a foothold in thames street. but of such infusoria history (glorying only in offenders, criminals, and robbers on the largest scale) justly pays no heed. this alone we know, that the early rulers of london before the christian era passed away like the wild beasts they fought and slew, and their very names have perished. one line of an old blind greek poet might have immortalised them among the motley nations that crowded into troy or swarmed under its walls; but, alas for them, that line was never written! no, founder of london! thy name was written on fluid ooze of the marsh, and the first tide that washed over it from the nore obliterated it for ever. yet, perhaps even now thou sleepest as quietly fathoms deep in soft mud, in some still nook of barking creek, as if all the world was ringing with thy glory. but descending quick to the lower but safer and firmer ground of fact, let us cautiously drive our first pile into the shaky morass of early london history. a learned modern antiquary, thomas lewin, esq., has proved, as nearly as such things can be proved, that julius cæsar and , men, who had sailed from boulogne, landed near romney marsh about half-past five o'clock on sunday the th of august, years before the birth of our saviour. centuries before that very remarkable august day on which the brave standard-bearer of cæsar's tenth legion sprang from his gilt galley into the sea and, eagle in hand, advanced against the javelins of the painted britons who lined the shore, there is now no doubt london was already existing as a british town of some importance, and known to the fishermen and merchants of the gauls and belgians. strabo, a greek geographer who flourished in the reign of augustus, speaks of british merchants as bringing to the seine and the rhine shiploads of corn, cattle, iron, hides, slaves, and dogs, and taking back brass, ivory, amber ornaments, and vessels of glass. by these merchants the desirability of such a depôt as london, with its great and always navigable river, could not have been long overlooked. [illustration: ancient roman pavement found in threadneedle street, (_see page _).] in cæsar's second and longer invasion in the next year ( b.c.), when his many-oared triremes and transports, &c., in all , poured on the same kentish coast , legionaries and , cavalry, there is little doubt that his strong foot left its imprint near that cluster of stockaded huts (more resembling a new zealand pah than a modern english town) perhaps already called london--llyn-don, the "town on the lake." after a battle at challock wood, cæsar and his men crossed the thames, as is supposed, at coway stakes, an ancient ford a little above walton and below weybridge. cassivellaunus, king of hertfordshire and middlesex, had just slain in war immanuent, king of essex, and had driven out his son mandubert. the trinobantes, mandubert's subjects, joined the roman spearmen against the , scythed chariots of cassivellaunus and the catyeuchlani. straight as the flight of an arrow was cæsar's march upon the capital of cassivellaunus, a city the barbaric name of which he either forgot or disregarded, but which he merely says was "protected by woods and marshes." this place north of the thames has usually been thought to be verulamium (st. alban's); but it was far more likely london, as the cassi, whose capital verulamium was, were among the traitorous tribes who joined cæsar against their oppressor cassivellaunus. moreover, cæsar's brief description of the spot perfectly applies to roman london, for ages protected on the north by a vast forest, full of deer and wild boars, and which, even as late as the reign of henry ii., covered a great region, and has now shrunk into the not very wild districts of st. john's wood and caen wood. on the north the town found a natural moat in the broad fens of moorfields, finsbury, and houndsditch, while on the south ran the fleet and the old bourne. indeed, according to that credulous old enthusiast stukeley, cæsar, marching from staines to london, encamped on the site of old st. pancras church, round which edifice stukeley found evident traces of a great prætorian camp. however, whether cassivellaunus, the king of middlesex and hertfordshire, had his capital at london or st. alban's, this much at least is certain, that the legionaries carried their eagles swiftly over his stockades of earth and fallen trees, drove off the blue-stained warriors, and swept off the half-wild cattle stored up by the britons. shortly after, cæsar returned to gaul, having heard while in britain of the death of his favourite daughter julia, the wife of pompey, his great rival. his camp at richborough or sandwich was far distant, the dreaded equinoctial gales were at hand, and gaul, he knew, might at any moment of his absence start into a flame. his inglorious campaign had lasted just four months and a half--his first had been far shorter. as cæsar himself wrote to cicero, our rude island was defended by stupendous rocks, there was not a scrap of the gold that had been reported, and the only prospect of booty was in slaves, from whom there could be expected neither "skill in letters nor in music." in sober truth, all cæsar had won from the people of kent and hertfordshire had been blows and buffets, for there were _men_ in britain even then. the prowess of the british charioteers became a standing joke in rome against the soldiers of cæsar. horace and tibullus both speak of the briton as unconquered. the steel bow the strong roman hand had for a moment bent, quickly relapsed to its old shape the moment cæsar, mounting his tall galley, turned his eyes towards gaul. [illustration: part of old london wall, near falcon square (_see page _).] the mandubert who sought cæsar's help is by some thought to be the son of the semi-fabulous king lud (king _brown_), the mythical founder of london, and, according to milton, who, as we have said, follows the old historians, a descendant of brute of troy. the successor of the warlike cassivellaunus had his capital at st. alban's; his son cunobelin (shakespeare's cymbeline)--a name which seems to glow with perpetual sunshine as we write it--had a palace at colchester; and the son of cunobelin was the famed caradoc, or caractacus, that hero of the silures, who struggled bravely for nine long years against the generals of rome. celtic etymologists differ, as etymologists usually do, about the derivation of the name of london. lon, or long, meant, they say, either a lake, a wood, a populous place, a plain, or a ship-town. this last conjecture is, however, now the most generally received, as it at once gives the modern pronunciation, to which llyn-don would never have assimilated. the first british town was indeed a simple celtic hill fortress, formed first on tower hill, and afterwards continued to cornhill and ludgate. it was moated on the south by the river, which it controlled; by fens on the north; and on the east by the marshy low ground of wapping. it was a high, dry, and fortified point of communication between the river and the inland country of essex and hertfordshire, a safe sixty miles from the sea, and central as a depôt and meeting-place for the tribes of kent and middlesex. hitherto the london about which we have been conjecturing has been a mere cloud city. the first mention of real london is by tacitus, who, writing in the reign of nero (a.d. , more than a century after the landing of cæsar), in that style of his so full of vigour and so sharp in outline, that it seems fit rather to be engraved on steel than written on perishable paper, says that londinium, though not, indeed, dignified with the name of colony, was a place highly celebrated for the number of its merchants and the confluence of traffic. in the year london was probably still without walls, and its inhabitants were not roman citizens, like those of verulamium (st. alban's). when the britons, roused by the wrongs of the fierce boadicea (queen of the iceni, the people of norfolk and suffolk), bore down on london, her back still "bleeding from the roman rods," she slew in london and verulamium alone , citizens and allies of rome; impaling many beautiful and well-born women, amid revelling sacrifices, in the grove of andate, the british goddess of victory. it is supposed that after this reckless slaughter the tigress and her savage followers burned the cluster of wooden houses that then formed london to the ground. certain it is, that when deep sections were made for a sewer in lombard street in , the lowest stratum consisted of tesselated roman pavements, their coloured dice laying scattered like flower leaves, and above that of a thick layer of wood ashes, as of the _débris_ of charred wooden buildings. this ruin the romans avenged by the slaughter of , britons in a butchering fight, generally believed to have taken place at king's cross (otherwise battle bridge), after which the fugitive boadicea, in rage and despair, took poison and perished. london probably soon sprang, phoenix-like, from the fire, though history leaves it in darkness to enjoy a lull of years. in the early part of the second century ptolemy, the geographer, speaks of it as a city of the kentish people; but mr. craik very ingeniously conjectures that the greek writer took his information from phoenician works descriptive of britain, written before even the invasion of cæsar. theodosius, a general of the emperor valentinian, who saved london from gathered hordes of scots, picts, franks, and saxons, is supposed to have repaired the walls of london, which had been first built by the emperor constantine early in the fourth century. in the reign of theodosius, london, now called augusta, became one of the chief, if not the chief, of the seventy roman cities in britain. in the famous "itinerary" of antoninus (about the end of the third century) london stands as the goal or starting-point of seven out of the fifteen great central roman roads in england. camden considers the london stone, now enshrined in the south wall of st. swithin's church, cannon street, to have been the central milestone of roman england, from which all the chief roads radiated, and by which the distances were reckoned. wren supposed that watling street, of which cannon street is a part, was the high street of roman london. another street ran west along holborn from cheapside, and from cheapside probably north. a northern road ran by aldgate, and probably bishopsgate. the road from dover came either over a bridge near the site of the present london bridge, or higher up at dowgate, from stoney street on the surrey side. early roman london was scarcely larger than hyde park. mr. roach smith, the best of all authorities on the subject, gives its length from the tower to ludgate, east and west, at about a mile; and north and south, that is from london wall to the thames, at about half a mile. the earliest roman city was even smaller, for roman sepulchres have been found in bow lane, moorgate street, bishopsgate within, which must at that time have been beyond the walls. the roman cemeteries of smithfield, st. paul's, whitechapel, the minories, and spitalfields, are of later dates, and are in all cases beyond the old line of circumvallation, according to the sound roman custom fixed by law. the earlier london mr. roach smith describes as an irregular space, the five main gates corresponding with bridgegate, ludgate, bishopsgate, aldersgate, and aldgate. the north wall followed for some part the course of cornhill and leadenhall street; the eastern billiter street and mark lane; the southern thames street; and the western the east side of walbrook. of the larger roman wall, there were within the memory of man huge, shapeless masses, with trees growing upon them, opposite what is now finsbury circus. in a piece of roman wall on tower hill was rescued from the improvers, and built into some stables and outhouses; but not before a careful sketch had been effected by the late mr. fairholt, one of the best of our antiquarian draughtsmen. the later roman london was in general outline the same in shape and size as the london of the saxons and normans. the newer walls pennant calculates at miles feet in circumference, they were feet high, and guarded with forty lofty towers. at the end of the last century large portions of the old roman wall were traceable in many places, but time has devoured almost the last morsels of that great _pièce de résistance_. in mr. gough made a drawing of a square roman tower (one of three) then standing in houndsditch. it was built in alternate layers of massive square stones and red tiles. the old loophole for the sentinel had been enlarged into a square latticed window. in , while digging foundations for houses on the north-east side of aldermanbury postern, the workmen came on a portion of the roman wall strengthened by blind arches. all that now substantially remains of the old fortification is a bastion in st. giles's church, cripplegate; a fragment in st. martin's court, off ludgate hill; another portion exists in the old bailey, concealed behind houses; and a fourth, near george street, tower hill. portions of the wall have, however, been also broached in falcon square (one of which we have engraved), bush lane, scott's yard, and cornhill, and others built in cellars and warehouses from opposite the tower and cripplegate. the line of the roman walls ran from the tower straight to aldgate; there making an angle, it continued to bishopsgate. from there it turned eastward to st. giles's churchyard, where it veered south to falcon square. at this point it continued west to aldersgate, running under christ's hospital, and onward to giltspur street. there forming an angle, it proceeded directly to ludgate towards the thames, passing to the south of st. andrew's church. the wall then crossed addle street, and took a course along upper and lower thames street towards the tower. in thames street the wall has been found built on oaken piles; on these was laid a stratum of chalk and stones, and over this a course of large, hewn sandstones, cemented with quicklime, sand, and pounded tile. the body of the wall was constructed of ragstone, flint, and lime, bonded at intervals with courses of plain and curve-edged tiles. that roman london grew slowly there is abundant proof. in building the new exchange, the workmen came on a gravel-pit full of oyster-shells, cattle bones, old sandals, and shattered pottery. no coin found there being later than severus indicates that this ground was bare waste outside the original city until at least the latter part of the third century. how far roman london eventually spread its advancing waves of houses may be seen from the fact that roman wall-paintings, indicating villas of men of wealth and position, have been found on both sides of high street, southwark, almost up to st. george's church; while one of the outlying roman cemeteries bordered the kent road. from the horns of cattle having been dug up in st. paul's churchyard, the monks, ever eager to discover traces of that paganism with which they amalgamated christianity, conjectured that a temple of diana once stood on the site of st. paul's. a stone altar, with a rude figure of the amazon goddess sculptured upon it, was indeed discovered in making the foundations for goldsmiths' hall, cheapside; but this was a mere votive or private altar, and proves nothing; and the ox bones, if any, found at st. paul's, were merely refuse thrown into a rubbish-heap outside the old walls. as to the temple of apollo, supposed to have been replaced by westminster abbey, that is merely an invention of rival monks to glorify thorney island, and to render its antiquity equal to the fabulous claims of st. paul's. nor is there any positive proof that shrines to british gods ever stood on either place, though that they may have done so is not at all improbable. the existing relics of roman london are far more valuable and more numerous than is generally supposed. innumerable tesselated pavements, masterpieces of artistic industry and taste, have been found in the city. a few of these should be noted. in part of the pavement of a room, twenty-eight feet square, was discovered, when the excise office was pulled down, between bishopsgate street and broad street. the central subject was supposed to be the rape of europa. a few years before another pavement was met with near the same spot. in two pavements were dug up under the french protestant church in threadneedle street. the best of these we have engraved. in a circular pavement was found in the same locality; and there has also been dug up in the same street a curious female head, the size of life, formed of coloured stones and glass. in a beautiful roman pavement was disinterred on the south-west angle of the bank of england, near the gate opening into lothbury, and is now in the british museum. in a fine specimen of pavement was found in front of the east-india house, leadenhall street, the central design being bacchus reclining on a panther. in this pavement twenty distinct tints had been successfully used. other pavements have been cut through in crosby square, bartholemew lane, fenchurch street, and college street. the soil, according to mr. roach smith, seems to have risen over them at the rate of nearly a foot a century. the statuary found in london should also not be forgotten. one of the most remarkable pieces was a colossal bronze head of the emperor hadrian, dredged up from the thames a little below london bridge. it is now in the british museum. a colossal bronze hand, thirteen inches long, was also found in thames street, near the tower. in , near london bridge, the dredgers found a beautiful bronze apollino, a mercury of exquisite design, a priest of cybele, and a figure supposed to be jupiter. the apollino and mercury are masterpieces of ideal beauty and grace. in a _chef d'oeuvre_ was dug out near the old roman wall in queen street, cheapside. it was the bronze stooping figure of an archer. it has silver eyes; and the perfect expression and anatomy display the highest art. in a graceful little silver figure of the child harpocrates, the god of silence, looped with a gold chain, was found in the thames, and is now in the british museum. in a pair of gold armlets were dug up in queen street, cheapside. in a kiln in st. paul's churchyard, in , there were found lamps, bottles, urns, and dishes. among other relics of roman london drifted down by time we may instance articles of red glazed pottery, tiles, glass cups, window glass, bath scrapers, gold hairpins, enamelled clasps, sandals, writing tablets, bronze spoons, forks, distaffs, bells, dice, and millstones. as for coins, which the romans seem to have hid in every conceivable nook, mr. roach smith says that within twenty years upwards of , were, to his own knowledge, found in london, chiefly in the bed of the thames. only one greek coin, as far as we know, has ever been met with in london excavations. the romans left deep footprints wherever they trod. many of our london streets still follow the lines they first laid down. the river bank still heaves beneath the ruins of their palaces. london stone, as we have already shown, still stands to mark the starting-point of the great roads that they designed. in a lane out of the strand there still exists a bath where their sinewy youth laved their limbs, dusty from the chariot races at the campus martius at finsbury. the pavements trodden by the feet of hadrian and constantine still lie buried under the restless wheels that roll over our city streets. the ramparts the legionaries guarded have not yet quite crumbled to dust, though the rude people they conquered have themselves long since grown into conquerors. roman london now exists only in fragments, invisible save to the prying antiquary. as the seed is to be found hanging to the root of the ripe wheat, so some filaments of the first germ of london, of the british hut and the roman villa, still exist hidden under the foundations of the busy city that now teems with thousands of inhabitants. we tread under foot daily the pride of our old oppressors. chapter ii. temple bar. temple bar--the golgotha of english traitors--when temple bar was made of wood--historical pageants at temple bar--the associations of temple bar--mischievous processions through temple bar--the first grim trophy--rye-house plot conspirators. temple bar was rebuilt by sir christopher wren, in - , soon after the great fire had swept away eighty-nine london churches, four out of the seven city gates, streets, and , houses, and had destroyed fifteen of the twenty-six wards, and laid waste acres of buildings, from the tower eastward to the inner temple westward. the old black gateway, once the dreaded golgotha of english traitors, separates, it should be remembered, the strand from fleet street, the city from the shire, and the freedom of the city of london from the liberty of the city of westminster. as hatton ( --queen anne) says,--"this gate opens not immediately into the city itself, but into the liberty or freedom thereof." we need hardly say that nothing can be more erroneous than the ordinary london supposition that temple bar ever formed part of the city fortifications. mr. gilbert à beckett, laughing at this tradition, once said in _punch_: "temple bar has always seemed to me a weak point in the fortifications of london. bless you, the besieging army would never stay to bombard it--they would dash through the barber's." the great fire never reached nearer temple bar than the inner temple, on the south side of fleet street, and st. dunstan's church, on the north. the bar is of portland stone, which london smoke alternately blackens and calcines; and each façade has four corinthian pilasters, an entablature, and an arched pediment. on the west (strand) side, in two niches, stand, as eternal sentries, charles i. and charles ii., in roman costume. charles i. has long ago lost his bâton, as he once deliberately lost his head. over the keystone of the central arch there used to be the royal arms. on the east side are james i. and elizabeth (by many able writers supposed to be anne of denmark, james i.'s queen). she is pointing her white finger at child's; while he, looking down on the passing cabs, seems to say, "i am nearly tired of standing; suppose we go to whitehall, and sit down a bit?" the slab over the eastern side of the arch bears the following inscription, now all but smoothed down by time:-- "erected in the year , sir samuel starling, mayor; continued in the year , sir richard ford, lord mayor; and finished in the year, , sir george waterman, lord mayor." all these persons were friends of pepys. the upper part of the bar is flanked by scrolls, but the fruit and flowers once sculptured on the pediment, and the supporters of the royal arms over the posterns, have crumbled away. in the centre of each façade is a semicircular-headed, ecclesiastical-looking window, that casts a dim horny light into a room above the gate, held of the city, at an annual rent of some £ , by messrs. childs, the bankers, as a sort of muniment-room for their old account-books. there is here preserved, among other costlier treasures of mammon, the private account-book of charles ii. the original child was a friend of pepys, and is mentioned by him as quarrelling with the duke of york on admiralty matters. the child who succeeded him was a friend of pope, and all but led him into the south-sea bubble speculation. those affected, mean statues, with the crinkly drapery, were the work of a vain, half-crazed sculptor named john bushnell, who died mad in . bushnell, who had visited rome and venice, executed cowley's monument in westminster abbey, and the statues of charles i., charles ii., and gresham, in the old exchange. there is no extant historical account of temple bar in which the following passage from strype (george i.) is not to be found embedded like a fossil; it is, in fact, nearly all we london topographers know of the early history of the bar:--"anciently," says strype, "there were only posts, rails, and a chain, such as are now in holborn, smithfield, and whitechapel bars. afterwards there was a house of timber erected across the street, with a narrow gateway and an entry on the south side of it under the house." this structure is to be seen in the bird's-eye view of london, (elizabeth), and in hollar's seven-sheet map of london (charles ii.) the date of the erection of the "wooden house" is not to be ascertained; but there is the house plain enough in a view of london to which maitland affixes the date about (the second year of elizabeth), so we may perhaps safely put it down as early as edward vi. or henry viii. indeed, if a certain scrap of history is correct--_i.e._, that bluff king hal once threatened, if a certain bill did not pass the commons a little quicker, to fix the heads of several refractory m.p.s on the top of temple bar--we must suppose the old city toll-gate to be as old as the early tudors. after simon de montfort's death, at the battle of evesham, , prince edward, afterwards edward i., punished the rebellious londoners, who had befriended montfort, by taking away all their street chains and bars, and locking them up in the tower. the earliest known documentary and historical notice of temple bar is in , the first year of edward iii.; and in the thirty-fourth year of the same reign we find, at an inquisition before the mayor, twelve witnesses deposing that the commonalty of the city had, time out of mind, had free ingress and egress from the city to thames and from thames to the city, through the great gate of the templars situate within temple bar. this referred to some dispute about the right of way through the temple, built in the reign of henry i. in richard ii. granted a licence for paving strand street from temple bar to the savoy, and collecting tolls to cover such charges. [illustration: proclamation of charles ii. at temple bar (_see page _).] the historical pageants that have taken place at temple bar deserve a notice, however short. on the th of november, , the corpse of that brave and chivalrous king, the hero of agincourt, henry v., was borne to its rest at westminster abbey by the chief citizens and nobles, and every doorway from southwark to temple bar had its mournful torch-bearer. in - the hearse of elizabeth of york, queen of henry vii., halted at temple bar, on its way from the tower to westminster, and at the bar the abbots of westminster and bermondsey blessed the corpse, and the earl of derby and a large company of nobles joined the sable funeral throng. after sorrow came joy, and after joy sorrow--_ita vita_. in the next reign poor anne boleyn, radiant with happiness and triumph, came through the bar (may , ), on her way to the tower, to be welcomed by the clamorous citizens, the day before her ill-starred coronation. temple bar on that occasion was new painted and repaired, and near it stood singing men and children--the fleet street conduit all the time running claret. the old gate figures more conspicuously the day before the coronation of that wondrous child, edward vi. two hogsheads of wine were then ladled out to the thirsty mob, and the gate at temple bar was painted with battlements and buttresses, richly hung with cloth of arras, and all in a flutter with "fourteen standard flags." there were eight french trumpeters blowing their best, besides "a pair of regals," with children singing to the same. in september, , when edward's cold-hearted half-sister, mary tudor, came through the city, according to ancient english custom, the day before her coronation, she did not ride on horseback, as edward had done, but sat in a chariot covered with cloth of tissue and drawn by six horses draped with the same. minstrels piped and trumpeted at ludgate, and temple bar was newly painted and hung. [illustration: penance of the duchess of gloucester (_see page _).] old temple bar, the background to many historical scenes, figures in the rash rebellion of sir thomas wyatt. when he had fought his way down piccadilly to the strand, temple bar was thrown open to him, or forced open by him; but when he had been repulsed at ludgate he was hemmed in by cavalry at temple bar, where he surrendered. this foolish revolt led to the death of innocent lady jane grey, and brought sixty brave gentlemen to the scaffold and the gallows. on elizabeth's procession from the tower before her coronation, january, , gogmagog the albion, and corineus the briton, the two guildhall giants, stood on the bar; and on the south side there were chorister lads, one of whom, richly attired as a page, bade the queen farewell in the name of the whole city. in , the glorious year that the armada was defeated, elizabeth passed through the bar on her way to return thanks to god solemnly at st. paul's. the city waits stood in triumph on the roof of the gate. the lord mayor and aldermen, in scarlet gowns, welcomed the queen and delivered up the city sword, then on her return they took horse and rode before her. the city companies lined the north side of the street, the lawyers and gentlemen of the inns of court the south. among the latter stood a person afterwards not altogether unknown, one francis bacon, who displayed his wit by saying to a friend, "mark the courtiers! those who bow first to the citizens are in debt; those who bow first to us are at law!" in , when the earl of essex made his insane attempt to rouse the city to rebellion, temple bar, we are told, was thrown open to him; but ludgate being closed against him on his retreat from cheapside, he came back by boat to essex house, where he surrendered after a short and useless resistance. king james made his first public entry into his royal city of london, with his consort and son henry, upon the th of march, - . the king was mounted upon a white genet, ambling through the crowded streets under a canopy held by eight gentlemen of the privy chamber, as representatives of the barons of the cinque ports, and passed under six arches of triumph, to take his leave at the temple of janus, erected for the occasion at temple bar. this edifice was fifty-seven feet high, proportioned in every respect like a temple. in june, (the year of the execution of charles), cromwell and the parliament dined at guildhall in state, and the mayor, says whitelocke, delivered up the sword to the speaker, at temple bar, as he had before done to king charles. philips, milton's nephew, who wrote the continuation of baker's chronicle, describes the ceremony at temple bar on the proclamation of charles ii. the old oak gates being shut, the king-at-arms, with tabard on and trumpet before him, knocked and gravely demanded entrance. the lord mayor appointed some one to ask who knocked. the king-at-arms replied, that if they would open the wicket, and let the lord mayor come thither, he would to him deliver his message. the lord mayor then appeared, tremendous in crimson velvet gown, and on horseback, of all things in the world, the trumpets sounding as the gallant knight pricked forth to demand of the herald, who he was and what was his message. the bold herald, with his hat on, answered, regardless of lindley murray, who was yet unknown, "we are the herald-at-arms appointed and commanded by the lords and commons assembled in parliament, and demand an entrance into the famous city of london, to proclaim charles ii. king of england, scotland, france, and ireland, and we expect your speedy answer to our demand." an alderman then replied, "the message is accepted," and the gates were thrown open. when william iii. came to see the city and the lord mayor's show in , the city militia, holding lighted flambeaux, lined fleet street as far as temple bar. the shadow of every monarch and popular hero since charles ii.'s time has rested for at least a passing moment at the old gateway. queen anne passed here to return thanks at st. paul's for the victory of blenheim. here marlborough's coach ominously broke down in , when he returned in triumph from his voluntary exile. george iii. passed through temple bar, young and happy, the year after his coronation, and again when, old and almost broken-hearted, he returned thanks for his partial recovery from insanity; and in our time that graceless son of his, the prince regent, came through the bar in , to thank god at st. paul's for the downfall of bonaparte. on the th november, , the accession of queen victoria, alderman kelly, picturesque in scarlet gown, spanish hat, and black feathers, presented the city sword to the queen at temple bar; alderman cowan was ready with the same weapon in , when the queen opened the new royal exchange; but in , when her majesty once more visited the city, the old ceremony was (wrongly, we think) dispensed with. at the funeral of lord nelson, the honoured corpse, followed by downcast old sailors, was met at the bar by the lord mayor and the corporation; and the great duke's funeral car, and the long train of representative soldiers, rested at the bar, which was hung with black velvet. a few earlier associations connected with the present bar deserve a moment or two's recollection. on february th, when general monk--"honest george," as his old cromwellian soldiers used to call him--entered london, dislodged the "rump" parliament, and prepared for the restoration of charles ii., bonfires were lit, the city bells rung, and london broke into a sudden flame of joy. pepys, walking homeward about ten o'clock, says:--"the common joy was everywhere to be seen. the number of bonfires--there being fourteen between st. dunstan's and temple bar, and at strand bridge, east of catherine street, i could at one time tell thirty-one fires." on november , , the year after the sham popish plot concocted by those matchless scoundrels, titus oates, an expelled naval chaplain, and bedloe, a swindler and thief, temple bar was made the spot for a great mob pilgrimage, on the anniversary of the accession of queen elizabeth. the ceremonial is supposed to have been organised by that restless plotter against a popish succession, lord shaftesbury, and the gentlemen of the green ribbon club, whose tavern, the "king's head," was at the corner of chancery lane, opposite the inner temple gate. to scare and vex the papists, the church bells began to clash out as early as three o'clock on the morning of that dangerous day. at dusk the procession of several thousand half-crazed torch-bearers started from moorgate, along bishopsgate street, and down houndsditch and aldgate (passing shaftesbury's house imagine the roar of the monster mob, the wave of torches, and the fiery fountains of squibs at that point!), then through leadenhall street and cornhill, by the royal exchange, along cheapside and on to temple bar, where the bonfire awaited the puppets. in a torrent of fire the noisy protestants passed through the exulting city, making the papists cower and shudder in their garrets and cellars, and before the flaming deluge opened a storm of shouting people. this procession consisted of fifteen groups of priests, jesuits, and friars, two following a man on a horse, holding up before him a dummy, dressed to represent sir edmondbury godfrey, a protestant justice and wood merchant, supposed to have been murdered by roman catholics at somerset house. it was attended by a body-guard of swordbearers and a man roaring a political cry of the time through a brazen speaking-trumpet. the great bonfire was built up mountain high opposite the inner temple gate. some zealous protestants, by pre-arrangement, had crowned the prim and meagre statue of elizabeth (still on the east side of the bar) with a wreath of gilt laurel, and placed under her hand (that now points to child's bank) a golden glistening shield, with the motto, "the protestant religion and magna charta," inscribed upon it. several lighted torches were stuck before her niche. lastly, amidst a fiery shower of squibs from every door and window, the pope and his companions were toppled into the huge bonfire, with shouts that reached almost to charing cross. these mischievous processions were continued till the reign of george i. there was to have been a magnificent one on november , , when the whigs were dreading the contemplated peace with the french and the return of marlborough. but the tories, declaring that the kit-kat club was urging the mob to destroy the house of harley, the minister, and to tear him to pieces, seized on the wax figures in drury lane, and forbade the ceremony. as early as two years after the restoration, sir balthazar gerbier, a restless architectural quack and adventurer of those days, wrote a pamphlet proposing a sumptuous gate at temple bar, and the levelling of the fleet valley. after the great fire charles ii. himself hurried the erection of the bar, and promised money to carry out the work. during the great fire, temple bar was one of the stations for constables, firemen, and soldiers. the rye-house plot brought the first trophy to the golgotha of the bar, in , twelve years after its erection. sir thomas armstrong was deep in the scheme. if the discreditable witnesses examined against lord william russell are to be believed, a plot had been concocted by a few desperate men to assassinate "the blackbird and the goldfinch"--as the conspirators called the king and the duke of york--as they were in their coach on their way from newmarket to london. this plan seems to have been the suggestion of rumbold, a maltster, who lived in a lonely moated farmhouse, called rye house, about eighteen miles from london, near the river ware, close to a by-road that leads from bishop stortford to hoddesdon. charles ii. had a violent hatred to armstrong, who had been his gentleman of the horse, and was supposed to have incited his illegitimate son, the duke of monmouth, to rebellion. sir thomas was hanged at tyburn. after the body had hung half an hour, the hangman cut it down, stripped it, lopped off the head, threw the heart into a fire, and divided the body into four parts. the fore-quarter (after being boiled in pitch at newgate) was set on temple bar, the head was placed on westminster hall, and the rest of the body was sent to stafford, which town sir thomas represented in parliament. eleven years after, the heads of two more traitors--this time conspirators against william iii.--joined the relic of armstrong. sir john friend was a rich brewer at aldgate. parkyns was an old warwickshire county gentleman. the plotters had several plans. one was to attack kensington palace at night, scale the outer wall, and storm or fire the building; another was to kill william on a sunday, as he drove from kensington to the chapel at st. james's palace. the murderers agreed to assemble near where apsley house now stands. just as the royal coach passed from hyde park across to the green park, thirty conspirators agreed to fall on the twenty-five guards, and butcher the king before he could leap out of his carriage. these two jacobite gentlemen died bravely, proclaiming their entire loyalty to king james and the "prince of wales." the unfortunate gentlemen who took a moody pleasure in drinking "the squeezing of the rotten orange" had long passed on their doleful journey from newgate to tyburn before the ghastly procession of the brave and unlucky men of the rising in began its mournful march.[ ] sir bernard burke mentions a tradition that the head of the young earl of derwentwater was exposed on temple bar in , and that his wife drove in a cart under the arch while a man hired for the purpose threw down to her the beloved head from the parapet above. but the story is entirely untrue, and is only a version of the way in which the head of sir thomas more was removed by his son-in-law and daughter from london bridge, where that cruel tyrant henry viii. had placed it. some years ago, when the earl of derwentwater's coffin was found in the family vault, the head was lying safe with the body. in there was, however, a traitor's head spiked on the bar--that of colonel john oxburgh, the victim of mistaken fidelity to a bad cause. he was a brave lancashire gentleman, who had surrendered with his forces at preston. he displayed signal courage and resignation in prison, forgetting himself to comfort others. the next victim was mr. christopher layer, a young norfolk man and a jacobite barrister, living in southampton buildings, chancery lane. he plunged deeply into the atterbury plot of , and, with lords north and grey, enlisted men, hired officers, and, taking advantage of the universal misery caused by the bursting of the south sea bubble, planned a general rising against george i. the scheme was, with four distinct bodies of jacobites, to seize the tower and the bank, to arrest the king and the prince, and capture or kill lord cadogan, one of the ministers. at the trial it was proved that layer had been over to rome, and had seen the pretender, who, by proxy, had stood godfather to his child. troops were to be sent from france; barricades were to be thrown up all over london. the jacobites had calculated that the government had only , men to meet them-- , of these would be wanted to guard london, , for scotland, and , for the garrisons. the original design had been to take advantage of the king's departure for hanover, and, in the words of one of the conspirators, the jacobites were fully convinced that "they should walk king george out before lady-day." layer was hanged at tyburn, and his head fixed upon temple bar. years after, one stormy night in , the rebel's skull blew down, and was picked up by a non-juring attorney, named pierce, who preserved it as a relic of the jacobite martyr. it is said that dr. richard rawlinson, an eminent antiquary, obtained what he thought was layer's head, and desired in his will that it should be placed in his right hand when he was buried. another version of the story is, that a spurious skull was foisted upon rawlinson, who died happy in the possession of the doubtful treasure. rawlinson was bantered by addison for his pedantry, in one of the _tatlers_, and was praised by dr. johnson for his learning. the rebellion brought the heads of fresh victims to the bar, and this was the last triumph of barbarous justice. colonel francis townley's was the sixth head; fletcher's (his fellow-officer), the seventh and last. the earls of kilmarnock and cromarty, lord balmerino, and thirty-seven other rebels (thirty-six of them having been captured in carlisle) were tried the same session. townley was a man of about fifty-four years of age, nephew of mr. townley of townley hall, in lancashire (the "townley marbles" family), who had been tried and acquitted in , though many of his men were found guilty and executed. the nephew had gone over to france in , and obtained a commission from the french king, whom he served for fifteen years, being at the siege of philipsburg, and close to the duke of berwick when that general's head was shot off. about , townley stole over to england to see his friends and to plot against the hanover family; and as soon as the rebels came into england, he met them between lancaster and preston, and came with them to manchester. at the trial roger m'donald, an officer's servant, deposed to seeing townley on the retreat from derby, and between lancaster and preston riding at the head of the manchester regiment on a bay horse. he had a white cockade in his hat and wore a plaid sash. george fletcher, who was tried at the same time as townley, was a rash young chapman, who managed his widowed mother's provision shop "at salford, just over the bridge in manchester." his mother had begged him on her knees to keep out of the rebellion, even offering him a thousand pounds for his own pocket, if he would stay at home. he bought a captain's commission of murray, the pretender's secretary, for fifty pounds; wore the smart white cockade and a highland plaid sash lined with white silk; and headed the very first captain's guard mounted for the pretender at carlisle. a manchester man deposed to seeing at the exchange a sergeant, with a drum, beating up for volunteers for the manchester regiment. fletcher, townley, and seven other unfortunate jacobites were hanged on kennington common. before the carts drove away, the men flung their prayer-books, written speeches, and gold-laced hats gaily to the crowd. mr. james (jemmy) dawson, the hero of shenstone's touching ballad, was one of the nine. as soon as they were dead the hangman cut down the bodies, disembowelled, beheaded, and quartered them, throwing the hearts into the fire. a monster--a fighting-man of the day, named buckhorse--is said to have actually eaten a piece of townley's flesh, to show his loyalty. before the ghastly scene was over, the heart of one unhappy spectator had already broken. the lady to whom james dawson was engaged to be married followed the rebels to the common, and even came near enough to see, with pallid face, the fire kindling, the axe, the coffins, and all the other dreadful preparations. she bore up bravely, until she heard her lover was no more. then she drew her head back into the coach, and crying out, "my dear, i follow thee--i follow thee! lord god, receive our souls, i pray thee!" fell on the neck of a companion and expired. mr. dawson had behaved gallantly in prison, saying, "he did not care if they put a ton weight of iron upon him, it would not daunt him." a curious old print of , full of vulgar triumph, reproduces a "temple bar, the city golgotha," representing the bar with three heads on the top of it, spiked on long iron rods. the devil looks down in ribald triumph from above, and waves a rebel banner, on which, besides three coffins and a crown, is the motto, "a crown or a grave." underneath are written these patriotic but doggrel lines:-- "observe the banner which would all enslave, which misled traytors did so proudly wave: the devil seems the project to surprise; a fiend confused from off the trophy flies. while trembling rebels at the fabric gaze, and dread their fate with horror and amaze, let britain's sons the emblematic view, and plainly see what is rebellion's due." the heads of fletcher and townley were put on the bar august , . on august th horace walpole, writing to a friend, says he had just been roaming in the city, and "passed under the new heads on temple bar, where people make a trade of letting spy-glasses at a halfpenny a look." according to mr. j.t. smith, an old man living in remembered the last heads on temple bar being visible through a telescope across the space between the bar and leicester fields. between two and three a.m., on the morning of january , , a mysterious man was arrested by the watch as he was discharging, by the dim light, musket bullets at the two heads then remaining upon temple bar. on being questioned by the puzzled magistrate, he affected a disorder in his senses, and craftily declared that the patriotic reason for his eccentric conduct was his strong attachment to the present government, and that he thought it not sufficient that a traitor should merely suffer death; that this provoked his indignation, and it had been his constant practice for three nights past to amuse himself in the same manner. "and it is much to be feared," says the past record of the event, "that the man is a near relation to one of the unhappy sufferers." upon searching this very suspicious marksman, about fifty musket bullets were found on him, wrapped up in a paper on which was written the motto, "eripuit ille vitam." after this, history leaves the heads of the unhappy jacobites--those lips that love had kissed, those cheeks children had patted--to moulder on in the sun and in the rain, till the last day of march, , when one of them (townley or fletcher) fell. the last stormy gust of march threw it down, and a short time after a strong wind blew down the other; and against the sky no more relics remained of a barbarous and unchristian revenge. in april, , boswell, whom we all despise and all like, dined at courtly mr. beauclerk's with dr. johnson, lord charlemont (hogarth's friend), sir joshua reynolds, and other members of the literary club, in gerrard street, soho, it being the awful evening when boswell was to be balloted for. the conversation turned on the new and commendable practice of erecting monuments to great men in st. paul's. the doctor observed: "i remember once being with goldsmith in westminster abbey. whilst we stood at poet's corner, i said to him,-- "forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur istis."--ovid. when we got to temple bar he stopped me, and pointing to the heads upon it, slily whispered,-- "forsitan et nostrum nomen miscebitur _istis_." this anecdote, so full of clever, arch wit, is sufficient to endear the old gateway to all lovers of johnson and of goldsmith. according to mr. timbs, in his "london and westminster," mrs. black, the wife of the editor of the _morning chronicle_, when asked if she remembered any heads on temple bar, used to reply, in her brusque, hearty way, "_boys, i recollect the scene well!_ i have seen on that temple bar, about which you ask, two human heads--real heads--traitors' heads--spiked on iron poles. there were two; i saw one fall (march , ). women shrieked as it fell; men, as i have heard, shrieked. one woman near me fainted. yes, boys, i recollect seeing human heads upon temple bar." the cruel-looking spikes were removed early in the present century. the panelled oak gates have often been renewed, though certainly shutting them too often never wore them out. as early as alderman pickett (who built the st. clement's arch), with other subversive reformers, tried to pull down temple bar. it was pronounced unworthy of form, of no antiquity, an ambuscade for pickpockets, and a record of only the dark and crimson pages of history. a writer in the _gentleman's magazine_, in chronicling the clearance away of some hovels encroaching upon the building, says: "it will not be surprising if certain amateurs, busy in improving the architectural concerns of the city, should at length request of their brethren to allow the bar or grand gate of entrance into the city of london to stand, after they have so repeatedly sought to obtain its destruction." in a proposal for its repair and restoration was defeated in the common council; and twelve months later, a number of bankers, merchants, and traders set their hands to a petition for its removal altogether, as serving no practical purpose, as it impeded ventilation and retarded improvements. since then mr. heywood has proposed to make a circus at temple bar, leaving the archway in the centre; and mr. w. burges, the architect, suggested a new arch in keeping with the new law courts opposite. [illustration: the room over temple bar (_see page _).] it is a singular fact that the "parentalia," a chronicle of wren's works written by wren's clever son, contains hardly anything about temple bar. according to mr. noble, the wren manuscripts in the british museum, wren's ledger in the bodleian, and the record office documents, are equally silent; but from a folio at the guildhall, entitled "expenses of public buildings after the great fire," it would appear that the bar cost altogether £ , s.; bushnell, the sculptor, receiving out of this sum £ for his four stone monarchs. the mason was john marshall, who carved the pedestal of the statue of charles i. at charing cross and worked on the monument in fish street hill. in inigo jones had designed a new arch, the plan of which still exists. wren, it is said, took his design of the bar from an old temple at rome. the old bar is now a mere piece of useless and disused armour. once a protection, then an ornament, it has now become an obstruction--the too-narrow neck of a large decanter--a bone in the throat of fleet street. yet still we have a lingering fondness for the old barrier that we have seen draped in black for a dead hero and glittering with gold in honour of a young bride. we have shared the sunshine that brightened it and the gloom that has darkened it, and we feel for it a species of friendship, in which it mutely shares. to us there seems to be a dignity in its dirt and pathos in the mud that bespatters its patient old face, as, like a sturdy fortress, it holds out against all its enemies, and charles i. and ii., and elizabeth and james i. keep a bright look-out day and night for all attacks. nevertheless, it must go in time, we fear. poor old temple bar, we shall miss you when you are gone! [illustration: titus oates in the pillory (_see page _).] footnotes: [ ] amongst these we must not forget joseph sullivan, who was executed at tyburn for high treason, for enlisting men in the service of the pretender. in the collection of broadsides belonging to the society of antiquaries there is one of great interest, entitled "perkins against perkin, a dialogue between sir william perkins and major sulliviane, the two loggerheads upon temple bar, concerning the present juncture of affaires." date uncertain. chapter iii. fleet street--general introduction. frays in fleet street--chaucer and the friar--the duchess of gloucester doing penance for witchcraft--riots between law students and citizens--'prentice riots--oates in the pillory--entertainments in fleet street--shop signs--burning the boot--trial of hardy--queen caroline's funeral. alas, for the changes of time! the fleet, that little, quick-flowing stream, once so bright and clear, is now a sewer! but its name remains immortalised by the street called after it. although, according to a modern antiquary, a roman amphitheatre once stood on the site of the fleet prison, and roman citizens were certainly interred outside ludgate, we know but little whether roman buildings ever stood on the west side of the city gates. stow, however, describes a stone pavement supported on piles being found, in , near the fleet street end of chancery lane; so that we may presume the soil of the neighbourhood was originally marshy. the first british settlers there must probably have been restless spirits, impatient of the high rents and insufficient room inside the city walls and willing, for economy, to risk the forays of any saxon pirates who chose to steal up the river on a dusky night and sack the outlying cabins of london. there were certainly rough doings in fleet street in the middle ages, for the city chronicles tell us of much blood spilt there and of many deeds of violence. in (henry iii.) we find, for instance, one henry de buke slaying a man named le ireis, le tylor, of fleet bridge, then fleeing to the church of st. mary, southwark, and there claiming sanctuary. in (edward ii.) five of the king's not very respectable or law-fearing household were arrested in fleet street for a burglary; and though the weak king demanded them (they were perhaps servants of his gascon favourite, piers gaveston, whom the barons afterwards killed), the city refused to give them up, and they probably had short shrive. in the same reign, when the strand was full of bushes and thickets, fleet street could hardly have been much better. still, the shops in fleet street were, no doubt, even in edward ii.'s reign, of importance, for we find, in , a fleet street bootmaker supplying the luxurious king with "six pairs of boots, with tassels of silk and drops of silver-gilt, the price of each pair being s." in richard ii.'s reign it is especially mentioned that wat tyler's fierce kentish men sacked the savoy church, part of the temple, and destroyed two forges which had been originally erected on each side of st. dunstan's church by the knight templars. the priory of st. john of jerusalem had paid a rent of s. for these forges, which same rent was given for more than a century after their destruction. the poet chaucer is said to have beaten a saucy franciscan friar in fleet street, and to have been fined s. for the offence by the honourable society of the inner temple; so speight had heard from one who had seen the entry in the records of the inner temple. in king henry iv.'s reign another crime disturbed fleet street. a fleet street goldsmith was murdered by ruffians in the strand, and his body thrown under the temple stairs. in (henry vi.) a strange procession startled london citizens. eleanor cobham, duchess of gloucester, did penance through fleet street for witchcraft practised against the king. she and certain priests and necromancers had, it was said, melted a wax figure of young king henry before a slow fire, praying that as that figure melted his life might melt also. of the duchess's confederates, the witch of ely, was burned at smithfield, a canon of westminster died in the tower, and a third culprit was hung, drawn, and quartered at tyburn. the duchess was brought from westminster, and landed at the temple stairs, from whence, with a tall wax taper in her hand, she walked bareheaded to st. paul's, where she offered at the high altar. another day she did penance at christ church, aldgate; a third day at st. michael's, cornhill, the lord mayor, sheriffs, and most of the corporation following. she was then banished to the isle of man, and her ghost they say still haunts peel castle. and now, in the long panorama of years, there rises in fleet street a clash of swords and a clatter of bucklers. in (henry vi.) the general effervescence of the times spread beyond ludgate, and there was a great affray in fleet street between the hot-blooded youths of the inns of court and the citizens, which lasted two days; the chief man in the riot was one of clifford's inn, named harbottle; and this irrepressible harbottle and his fellows only the appearance of the mayor and sheriffs could quiet. in (in the same reign) there was a more serious riot of the same kind; the students were then driven back by archers from the conduit near shoe lane to their several inns, and some slain, including "the queen's attornie," who certainly ought to have known better and kept closer to his parchments. even the king's meek nature was roused at this, he committed the principal governors of furnival's, clifford's, and barnard's inns, to the castle of hertford, and sent for several aldermen to windsor castle, where he either rated or imprisoned them, or both. fleet street often figures in the chronicles of elizabeth's reign. on one visit it is particularly said that she often graciously stopped her coach to speak to the poor; and a green branch of rosemary given to her by a poor woman near fleet bridge was seen, not without marvellous wonder of such as knew the presenter, when her majesty reached westminster. in the same reign we are told that the young earl of oxford, after attending his father's funeral in essex, rode through fleet street to westminster, attended by seven score horsemen, all in black. such was the splendid and proud profusion of elizabeth's nobles. james's reign was a stormy one for fleet street. many a time the ready 'prentices snatched their clubs (as we read in "the fortunes of nigel"), and, vaulting over their counters, joined in the fray that surged past their shops. in particularly, three 'prentices having abused gondomar, the spanish ambassador, as he passed their master's door in fenchurch street, the king ordered the riotous youths to be whipped from aldgate to temple bar. in fleet street, however, the apprentices rose in force, and shouting "rescue!" quickly released the lads and beat the marshalmen. if there had been any resistance, another thousand sturdy 'prentices would soon have carried on the war. nor did charles's reign bring any quiet to fleet street, for then the templars began to lug out their swords. on the th of january, , the templars, having chosen a mr. palmer as their lord of misrule, went out late at night into fleet street to collect his rents. at every door the jovial collectors winded the temple horn, and if at the second blast the door was not courteously opened, my lord cried majestically, "give fire, gunner," and a sturdy smith burst the pannels open with a huge sledge-hammer. the horrified lord mayor being appealed to soon arrived, attended by the watch of the ward and men armed with halberts. at eleven o'clock on the sunday night the two monarchs came into collision in hare alley (now hare court). the lord of misrule bade my lord mayor come to him, but palmer, omitting to take off his hat, the halberts flew sharply round him, his subjects were soundly beaten, and he was dragged off to the compter. there, with soiled finery, the new year's king was kept two days in durance, the attorney-general at last fetching the fallen monarch away in his own coach. at a court masque soon afterwards the king made the two rival potentates join hands; but the king of misrule had, nevertheless, to refund all the five shillings' he had exacted, and repair all the fleet street doors his too handy gunner had destroyed. the very next year the quarrelsome street broke again into a rage, and four persons lost their lives. of the rioters, two were executed within the week. one of these was john stanford, of the duke's chamber, and the other captain nicholas ashurst. the quarrel was about politics, and the courtiers seem to have been the offenders. in charles ii.'s time the pillory was sometimes set up at the temple gate; and here the wretch titus oates stood, amidst showers of unsavoury eggs and the curses of those who had learnt to see the horror of his crimes. well said judge withers to this man, "i never pronounce criminal sentence but with some compassion; but you are such a villain and hardened sinner, that i can find no sentiment of compassion for you." the pillory had no fixed place, for in we find a scotchman suffering at the chancery lane end for telling a victualler that his house would be fired by the papists; and the next year a man stood upon the pillory at the end of shoe lane for insulting lord ambassador coventry as he was starting for sweden. in the reign of queen anne those pests of the london streets, the "mohocks," seem to have infested fleet street. these drunken desperadoes--the predecessors of the roysterers who, in the times of the regency, "boxed the charlies," broke windows, and stole knockers--used to find a cruel pleasure in surrounding a quiet homeward-bound citizen and pricking him with their swords. addison makes worthy sir roger de coverley as much afraid of these night-birds as swift himself; and the old baronet congratulates himself on escaping from the clutches of "the emperor and his black men," who had followed him half-way down fleet street. he, however, boasts that he threw them out at the end of norfolk street, where he doubled the corner, and scuttled safely into his quiet lodgings. from elizabethan times downwards, fleet street was a favourite haunt of showmen. concerning these popular exhibitions mr. noble has, with great industry, collected the following curious enumeration:-- "ben jonson," says our trusty authority, "in _every man in his humour_, speaks of 'a new motion of the city of nineveh, with jonas and the whale, at fleet bridge.' in 'the fleet street mandrakes' were to be seen for a penny; and years later the giants of st. dunstan's clock caused the street to be blocked up, and people to lose their time, their temper, and their money. during queen anne's reign, however, the wonders of fleet street were at their height. in a model of amsterdam, thirty feet long by twenty feet wide, which had taken twelve years in making, was exhibited in bell yard; a child, fourteen years old, without thighs or legs, and eighteen inches high, was to be seen 'at the "eagle and child," a grocer's shop, near shoe lane;' a great lincolnshire ox, nineteen hands high, four yards long, as lately shown at cambridge, was on view 'at the "white horse," where the great elephant was seen;' and 'between the "queen's head" and "crooked billet," near fleet bridge,' were exhibited daily 'two strange, wonderful, and remarkable monstrous creatures--an old she-dromedary, seven feet high and ten feet long, lately arrived from tartary, and her young one; being the greatest rarity and novelty that ever was seen in the three kingdomes before.' in , at the 'duke of marlborough's head,' in fleet street (by shoe lane), was exhibited the 'moving picture' mentioned in the _tatler_; and here, in , 'the great posture-master of europe,' eclipsing the deceased clarke and higgins, greatly startled sight-seeing london. 'he extends his body into all deformed shapes; makes his hip and shoulder-bones meet together; lays his head upon the ground, and turns his body round twice or thrice, without stirring his face from the spot; stands upon one leg, and extends the other in a perpendicular line half a yard above his head; and extends his body from a table with his head a foot below his heels, having nothing to balance his body but his feet; with several other postures too tedious to mention.' "and here, in , de hightrehight, the fire-eater, ate burning coals, swallowed flaming brimstone, and sucked a red-hot poker, five times a day! "what will my billiard-loving friends say to the st. dunstan's inquest of the year ? 'item, we present thomas bruce, for suffering a gaming-table (called a billiard-table, where people commonly frequent and game) to be kept in his house.' a score of years later, at the end of wine office court, was exhibited an automaton clock, with three figures or statues, which at the word of command poured out red or white wine, represented a grocer shutting up his shop and a blackamoor who struck upon a bell the number of times asked. giants and dwarfs were special features in fleet street. at the 'rummer,' in three kings' court, was to be seen an essex woman, named gordon, not nineteen years old, though seven feet high, who died in . at the 'blew boar and green tree' was on view an italian giantess, above seven feet, weighing lbs., who had been seen by ten reigning sovereigns. in died, in shire lane, edward bamford, another giant, seven feet four inches in height, who was buried in st. dunstan's, though £ was offered for his body for dissection. at the 'globe,' in , was shown matthew buckinger, a german dwarf, born in , without hands, legs, feet, or thighs, twenty-nine inches high; yet can write, thread a needle, shuffle a pack of cards, play skittles, &c. a facsimile of his writing is among the harleian mss. and in appeared the black prince and his wife, each three feet high; and a turkey horse, two feet odd high and twelve years old, in a box. modern times have seen giants and dwarfs, but have they really equalled these? in the exhibition of a mermaid here was put a stop to by the lord chamberlain." in old times fleet street was rendered picturesque, not only by its many gable-ended houses adorned with quaint carvings and plaster stamped in patterns, but also by the countless signs, gay with gilding and painted with strange devices, which hung above the shop-fronts. heraldry exhausted all its stores to furnish emblems for different trades. lions blue and red, falcons, and dragons of all colours, alternated with heads of john the baptist, flying pigs, and hogs in armour. on a windy day these huge masses of painted timber creaked and waved overhead, to the terror of nervous pedestrians, nor were accidents by any means rare. on the nd of december, (george i.), a signboard opposite bride lane, fleet street, having loosened the brickwork by its weight and movement, suddenly gave way, fell, and brought the house down with it, killing four persons, one of whom was the queen's jeweller. it was not, however, till (george iii.) that these dangerous signboards were ordered to be placed flat against the walls of the houses. when dr. johnson said, "come and let us take a walk down fleet street," he proposed a no very easy task. the streets in his early days, in london, had no side-pavements, and were roughly paved, with detestable gutters running down the centre. from these gutters the jumbling coaches of those days liberally scattered the mud on the unoffending pedestrians who happened to be crossing at the time. the sedan-chairs, too, were awkward impediments, and choleric people were disposed to fight for the wall. in , when lord eldon came to london as a schoolboy, and put up at that humble hostelry the "white horse," in fetter lane, he describes coming home from drury lane with his brother in a sedan. turning out of fleet street into fetter lane, some rough fellows pushed against the chair at the corner and upset it, in their eagerness to pass first. dr. johnson's curious nervous habit of touching every street-post he passed was cured in , by the laying down of side-pavements. on that occasion it is said two english paviours in fleet street bet that they would pave more in a day than four scotchmen could. by three o'clock the englishmen had got so much ahead that they went into a public-house for refreshment, and, afterwards returning to their work, won the wager. in the wilkes' riot of , the mob burnt a large jack-boot in the centre of fleet street, in ridicule of lord bute; but a more serious affray took place in this street in , when the noisy wilkites closed the bar, to stop a procession of loyal citizens _en route_ to st. james's to present an address denouncing all attempts to spread sedition and uproot the constitution. the carriages were pelted with stones, and the city marshal, who tried to open the gates, was bedaubed with mud. mr. boehm and other loyalists took shelter in "nando's coffee house." about of the frightened citizens, passing up chancery lane, got to the palace by a devious way, a hearse with two white horses and two black following them to st. james's palace. even there the riot act had to be read and the guards sent for. when mr. boehm fled into "nando's," in his alarm, he sent home his carriage containing the address. the mob searched the vehicle, but could not find the paper, upon which mr. boehm hastened to the court, and arrived just in time with the important document. the treason trials of brought more noise and trouble to fleet street. hardy, the secretary to the london corresponding society, was a shoemaker at no. ; and during the trial of this approver of the french revolution, mr. john scott (afterwards lord eldon) was in great danger from a fleet street crowd. "the mob," he says, "kept thickening round me till i came to fleet street, one of the worst parts that i had to pass through, and the cries began to be rather threatening. 'down with him!' 'now is the time, lads; do for him!' and various others, horrible enough; but i stood up, and spoke as loud as i could: 'you may do for me, if you like; but, remember, there will be another attorney-general before eight o'clock to-morrow morning, and the king will not allow the trials to be stopped.' upon this one man shouted out, 'say you so? you are right to tell us. let us give him three cheers, my lads!' so they actually cheered me, and i got safe to my own door." there was great consternation in fleet street in november, , when queen caroline, attended by persons on horseback, passed publicly through it to return thanks at st. paul's. many alarmed people barricaded their doors and windows. still greater was the alarm in august, , when the queen's funeral procession went by, after the deplorable fight with the horse guards at cumberland gate, when two of the rioters were killed. with this rapid sketch of a few of the events in the history of fleet street, we begin our patient peregrination from house to house. chapter iv. fleet street (_continued_). dr. johnson in ambuscade at temple bar--the first child--dryden and black will--rupert's jewels--telson's bank--the apollo club at the "devil"--"old sir simon the king"--"mull sack"--dr. johnson's supper to mrs. lennox--will waterproof at the "cock"--the duel at "dick's coffee house"--lintot's shop--pope and warburton--lamb and the _albion_--the palace of cardinal wolsey--mrs. salmon's waxwork--isaak walton--praed's bank--murray and byron--st. dunstan's--fleet street printers--hoare's bank and the "golden bottle"--the real and spurious "mitre"--hone's trial--cobbett's shop--"peele's coffee house." there is a delightful passage in an almost unknown essay by dr. johnson that connects him indissolubly with the neighbourhood of temple bar. the essay, written in for the _universal visitor_, is entitled "a project for the employment of authors," and is full of humour, which, indeed, those who knew him best considered the chief feature of johnson's genius. we rather pride ourselves on the discovery of this pleasant bit of autobiography:--"it is my practice," says johnson, "when i am in want of amusement, to place myself for an hour at temple bar, or any other narrow pass much frequented, and examine one by one the looks of the passengers, and i have commonly found that between the hours of eleven and four every sixth man is an author. they are seldom to be seen very early in the morning or late in the evening, but about dinner-time they are all in motion, and have one uniform eagerness in their faces, which gives little opportunity of discerning their hopes or fears, their pleasures or their pains. but in the afternoon, when they have all dined, or composed themselves to pass the day without a dinner, their passions have full play, and i can perceive one man wondering at the stupidity of the public, by which his new book has been totally neglected; another cursing the french, who fright away literary curiosity by their threat of an invasion; another swearing at his bookseller, who will advance no money without copy; another perusing as he walks his publisher's bill; another murmuring at an unanswerable criticism; another determining to write no more to a generation of barbarians; and another wishing to try once again whether he cannot awaken the drowsy world to a sense of his merit." this extract seems to us to form an admirable companion picture to that in which we have already shown goldsmith bantering his brother jacobite, johnson, as they looked up together at the grim heads on temple bar. [illustration: dr. titus oates.] that quiet grave house (no. ), that seems to demurely huddle close to temple bar, as if for protection, is the oldest banking-house in london except one. for two centuries gold has been shovelled about in those dark rooms, and reams of bank-notes have been shuffled over by practised thumbs. private banks originated in the stormy days before the civil war, when wealthy citizens, afraid of what might happen, entrusted their money to their goldsmiths to take care of till the troubles had blown over. in the reign of charles i., francis child, an industrious apprentice of the old school, married the daughter of his master, william wheeler, a goldsmith, who lived one door west of temple bar, and in due time succeeded to his estate and business. in the first london directory ( ), among the fifty-eight goldsmiths, thirty-eight of whom lived in lombard street, "blanchard & child," at the "marygold," fleet street, figure conspicuously as "keeping running cashes." the original marygold (sometimes mistaken for a rising sun), with the motto, "ainsi mon ame," gilt upon a green ground, elegantly designed in the french manner, is still to be seen in the front office, and a marigold in full bloom still blossoms on the bank cheques. in the year it was at mr. blanchard's, the goldsmith's, next door to temple bar, that dryden the poet, bruised and angry, deposited £ as a reward for any one who would discover the bullies of lord rochester who had beaten him in rose alley for some scurrilous verses really written by the earl of dorset. the advertisement promises, if the discoverer be himself one of the actors, he shall still have the £ , without letting his name be known or receiving the least trouble by any prosecution. black will's cudgel was, after all, a clumsy way of making a repartee. late in charles ii.'s reign alderman backwell entered the wealthy firm; but he was ruined by the iniquitous and arbitrary closing of the exchequer in , when the needy and unprincipled king pocketed at one swoop more than a million and a half of money, which he soon squandered on his shameless mistresses and unworthy favourites. in that quaint room over temple bar the firm still preserve the dusty books of the unfortunate alderman, who fled to holland. there, on the sallow leaves over which the poor alderman once groaned, you can read the items of our sale of dunkirk to the french, the dishonourable surrender of which drove the nation almost to madness, and hastened the downfall of lord clarendon, who was supposed to have built a magnificent house (on the site of albemarle street, piccadilly) with some of the very money. charles ii. himself banked here, and drew his thousands with all the careless nonchalance of his nature. nell gwynne, pepys, of the "diary," and prince rupert also had accounts at child's, and some of these ledgers are still hoarded over temple bar in that venetian-looking room, approached by strange prison-like passages, for which chamber messrs. child pay something less than £ a year. [illustration: temple bar and the "devil tavern" (_see page _).] when prince rupert died at his house in the barbican, the valuable jewels of the old cavalry soldier, valued at £ , , were disposed of in a lottery, managed by mr. francis child, the goldsmith; the king himself, who took a half-business-like, half-boyish interest in the matter, counting the tickets among all the lords and ladies at whitehall. in north's "life of lord keeper guildford," the courtier and lawyer of the reign of charles ii., there is an anecdote that pleasantly connects child's bank with the fees of the great lawyers who in that evil reign ruled in chancery lane:-- "the lord keeper guildford's business increased," says his biographer, "even while he was solicitor, to be so much as to have overwhelmed one less dexterous; but when he was made attorney-general, though his gains by his office were great, they were much greater by his practice, for that flowed in upon him like an orage, enough to overset one that had not an extraordinary readiness in business. his skull-caps, which he wore when he had leisure to observe his constitution, as i touched before, were now destined to lie in a drawer, to receive the money that came in by fees. one had the gold, another the crowns and half-crowns, and another the smaller money. when these vessels were full, they were committed to his friend (the hon. roger north), who was constantly near him, to tell out the cash and put it into the bags according to the contents; and so they went to his treasurers, blanchard & child, goldsmiths, temple bar." year by year the second sir francis child grew in honour. he was alderman, sheriff, lord mayor, president of christ's hospital, and m.p. for the city, and finally, dying in , full of years, was buried under a grand black marble tomb in fulham churchyard, and his account closed for ever. the family went on living in the sunshine. sir robert, the son of the sir francis, was also alderman of his ward; and, on his death, his brother, sir francis, succeeded to all his father's dignities, became an east indian director, and in received the special thanks of the citizens for promoting a special act for regulating city elections. another member of this family (sir josiah child) deserves special mention as one of the earliest writers on political economy and a man much in advance of his time. he saw through the old fallacy about the balance of trade, and explained clearly the true causes of the commercial prosperity of the dutch. he also condemned the practice of each parish paying for its own poor, an evil which all poor-law reformers have endeavoured to alter. sir josiah was at the head of the east india company, already feeling its way towards the gold and diamonds of india. his brother was governor of bombay, and by the marriage of his numerous daughters the rich merchant became allied to half the peers and peeresses of england. the grandson of alderman backwell married a daughter of the second sir francis child, and his daughter married william praed, the truro banker, who early in the present century opened a bank at , fleet street. so, like three strands of a gold chain, the three banking families were welded together. in child's bank seems to have for a moment tottered, but was saved by the timely loan of £ , proffered by that overbearing woman the duchess of marlborough. hogarth is said to have made an oil sketch of the scene, which was sold at hodgson's sale-room in , and has since disappeared. in pennant's time ( ) the original goldsmith's shop seems to have still existed in fleet street, in connection with this bank. the principal of the firm was the celebrated countess of jersey, a former earl having assumed the name of child on the countess inheriting the estates of her maternal grandfather, robert child, esq., of osterly park, middlesex. a small full-length portrait of this great beauty of george iv.'s court, painted by lawrence in his elegant but meretricious manner, hangs in the first-floor room of the old bank. the last child died early in this century. a descendant of addison is a member of the present firm. in chapter ., book i., of his "tale of two cities," dickens has sketched child's bank with quite an hogarthian force and colour. he has playfully exaggerated the smallness, darkness, and ugliness of the building, of which he describes the partners as so proud; but there is all his usual delightful humour, occasionally passing into caricature:-- "thus it had come to pass that telson's was the triumphant perfection of inconvenience. after bursting open a door of idiotic obstinacy with a weak rattle in its throat, you fell into telson's down two steps, and came to your senses in a miserable little shop with two little counters, where the oldest of men made your cheque shake as if the wind rustled it, while they examined the signature by the dingiest of windows, which were always under a shower-bath of mud from fleet street, and which were made the dingier by their own iron bars and the heavy shadow of temple bar. if your business necessitated your seeing 'the house,' you were put into a species of condemned hold at the back, where you meditated on a mis-spent life, until the house came with its hands in its pockets, and you could hardly blink at it in the dismal twilight." in (george iii.) the firm purchased the renowned "devil tavern," next door eastward, and upon the site erected the retiring row of houses up a dim court, now called child's place, finally absorbing the old place of revelry and hushing the unseemly clatter of pewter pots and the clamorous shouts of "score a pint of sherry in the apollo" for ever. the noisy "devil tavern" (no. , fleet street) had stood next the quiet goldsmith's shop ever since the time of james i. shakespeare himself must, day after day, have looked up at the old sign of st. dunstan tweaking the devil by the nose, that flaunted in the wind near the bar. perhaps the sign was originally a compliment to the goldsmith's men who frequented it, for st. dunstan was, like st. eloy, a patron saint of goldsmiths, and himself worked at the forge as an amateur artificer of church plate. it may, however, have only been a mark of respect to the saint, whose church stood hard by, to the east of chancery lane. at the "devil" the apollo club, almost the first institution of the kind in london, held its merry meetings, presided over by that grim yet jovial despot, ben jonson. the bust of apollo, skilfully modelled from the head of the apollo belvidere, that once kept watch over the door, and heard in its time millions of witty things and scores of fond recollections of shakespeare by those who personally knew and loved him, is still preserved at child's bank. they also show there among their heirlooms "the welcome," probably written by immortal ben himself, which is full of a jovial inspiration that speaks well for the canary at the "devil." it used to stand over the chimney-piece, written in gilt letters on a black board, and some of the wittiest and wisest men of the reigns of james and charles must have read it over their cups. the verses run,-- "welcome all who lead or follow to the oracle of apollo," &c. beneath these verses some enthusiastic disciple of the author has added the brief epitaph inscribed by an admirer on the crabbed old poet's tombstone in westminster abbey,-- "o, rare ben jonson." the rules of the club (said to have been originally cut on a slab of black marble) were placed above the fire-place. they were devised by ben jonson, in imitation of the rules of the roman entertainments, collected by the learned lipsius; and, as leigh hunt says, they display the author's usual style of elaborate and compiled learning, not without a taste of that dictatorial self-sufficiency that made him so many enemies. they were translated by alexander brome, a poetical attorney of the day, who was one of ben jonson's twelve adopted poetical sons. we have room only for the first few, to show the poetical character of the club:-- "let none but guests or clubbers hither come; let dunces, fools, and sordid men keep home; let learned, civil, merry men b' invited, and modest, too; nor be choice liquor slighted. let nothing in the treat offend the guest: more for delight than cost prepare the feast." the later rules forbid the discussion of serious and sacred subjects. no itinerant fiddlers (who then, as now, frequented taverns) were to be allowed to obtrude themselves. the feasts were to be celebrated with laughing, leaping, dancing, jests, and songs, and the jests were to be "without reflection." no man (and this smacks of ben's arrogance) was to recite "insipid" poems, and no person was to be pressed to write verse. there were to be in this little elysium of an evening no vain disputes, and no lovers were to mope about unsocially in corners. no fighting or brawling was to be tolerated, and no glasses or windows broken, or was tapestry to be torn down in wantonness. the rooms were to be kept warm; and, above all, any one who betrayed what the club chose to do or say was to be, _nolens volens_, banished. over the clock in the kitchen some wit had inscribed in neat latin the merry motto, "if the wine of last night hurts you, drink more to-day, and it will cure you"--a happy version of the dangerous axiom of "take a hair of the dog that bit you." at these club feasts the old poet with "the mountain belly and the rocky face," as he has painted himself, presided, ready to enter the ring against all comers. by degrees the stern man with the worn features, darkened by prison cell and hardened by battle-fields, had mellowed into a falstaff. long struggles with poverty had made ben arrogant, for he had worked as a bricklayer in early life and had served in flanders as a common soldier; he had killed a rival actor in a duel, and had been in danger of having his nose slit in the pillory for a libel against king james's scotch courtiers. intellectually, too, ben had reason to claim a sort of sovereignty over the minor poets. his _every man in his humour_ had been a great success; shakespeare had helped him forward, and been his bosom friend. parts of his _sejanus_, such as the speech of envy, beginning,-- "light, i salute thee, but with wounded nerves, wishing thy golden splendour pitchy darkness," are as sublime as his songs, such as "drink to me only with thine eyes," are graceful, serious, and lyrical. the great compass of his power and the command he had of the lyre no one could deny; his learning donne and camden could vouch for. he had written the most beautiful of court masques; his bobadil some men preferred to falstaff. alas! no pepys or boswell has noted the talk of those evenings. a few glimpses of the meetings we have, and but a few. one night at the "devil" a country gentleman was boastful of his property. it was all he had to boast about among the poets; ben, chafed out of all decency and patience, at last roared, "what signify to us your dirt and your clods? where you have an acre of land i have ten acres of wit!" "have you so, good mr. wise-acre," retorted master shallow. "why, now, ben," cried out a laughing friend, "you seem to be quite stung." "i' faith, i never was so pricked by a hobnail before," growled ben, with a surly smile. another story records the first visit to the "devil" of randolph, a clever poet and dramatist, who became a clergyman, and died young. the young poet, who had squandered all his money away in london pleasures, on a certain night, before he returned to cambridge, resolved to go and see ben and his associates at the "devil," cost what it might. but there were two great obstacles--he was poor, and he was not invited. nevertheless, drawn magnetically by the voices of the illustrious men in the apollo, randolph at last peeped in at the door among the waiters. ben's quick eye soon detected the eager, pale face and the scholar's threadbare habit. "john bo-peep," he shouted, "come in!" a summons randolph gladly obeyed. the club-men instantly began rhyming on the meanness of the intruder's dress, and told him if he could not at once make a verse he must call for a quart of sack. there being four of his tormentors, randolph, ready enough at such work, replied as quick as lightning:-- "i, john bo-peep, and you four sheep, with each one his good fleece; if that you are willing to give me your shilling, 'tis fifteen pence apiece." "by the lord!" roared the giant president, "i believe this is my son randolph!" and on his owning himself, the young poet was kindly entertained, spent a glorious evening, was soaked in sack, "sealed of the tribe of ben," and became one of the old poet's twelve adopted sons. shakerley marmion, a contemporary dramatist of the day, has left a glowing rubenesque picture of the apollo evenings, evidently coloured from life. careless, one of his characters, tells his friends he is full of oracles, for he has just come from apollo. "from apollo?" says his wondering friend. then careless replies, with an inspired fervour worthy of a cavalier poet who fought bravely for king charles:-- "from the heaven of my delight, where the boon delphic god drinks sack and keep his bacchanalia, and has his incense and his altars smoking, and speaks in sparkling prophecies; thence i come, my brains perfumed with the rich indian vapour, and heightened with conceits.... and from a mighty continent of pleasure sails thy brave careless." simon wadloe, the host of the "devil," who died in , seems to have been a witty butt of a man, much such another as honest jack falstaff; a merry boon companion, not only witty himself, but the occasion of wit in others, quick at repartee, fond of proverbial sayings, curious in his wines. a good old song, set to a fine old tune, was written about him, and called "old sir simon the king." this was the favourite old-fashioned ditty in which fielding's rough and jovial squire western afterwards delighted. old simon's successor, john wadloe (probably his son), made a great figure at the restoration procession by heading a band of young men all dressed in white. after the great fire john rebuilt the "sun tavern," behind the royal exchange, and was loyal, wealthy, and foolish enough to lend king charles certain considerable sums, duly recorded in exchequer documents, but not so duly paid. in the troublous times of the commonwealth the "devil" was the favourite haunt of john cottington, generally known as "mull sack," from his favourite beverage of spiced sherry negus. this impudent rascal, a sweep who had turned highwayman, with the most perfect impartiality rifled the pockets alternately of cavaliers and roundheads. gold is of no religion; and your true cut-purse is of the broadest and most sceptical church. he emptied the pockets of lord protector cromwell one day, and another he stripped charles ii., then a bohemian exile at cologne, of plate valued at £ , . one of his most impudent exploits was stealing a watch from lady fairfax, that brave woman who had the courage to denounce, from the gallery at westminster hall, the persons whom she considered were about to become the murderers of charles i. "this lady" (and a portly handsome woman she was, to judge by the old portraits), says a pamphlet-writer of the day, "used to go to a lecture on a week-day to ludgate church, where one mr. jacomb preached, being much followed by the puritans. mull sack, observing this, and that she constantly wore her watch hanging by a chain from her waist, against the next time she came there dressed himself like an officer in the army; and having his comrades attending him like troopers, one of them takes off the pin of a coach-wheel that was going upwards through the gate, by which means it falling off, the passage was obstructed, so that the lady could not alight at the church door, but was forced to leave her coach without. mull sack, taking advantage of this, readily presented himself to her ladyship, and having the impudence to take her from her gentleman usher who attended her alighting, led her by the arm into the church; and by the way, with a pair of keen sharp scissors for the purpose, cut the chain in two, and got the watch clear away, she not missing it till the sermon was done, when she was going to see the time of the day." [illustration: introduction of randolph to ben jonson at the "devil" tavern (_see page _).] the portrait of mull sack has the following verses beneath:-- "i walk the strand and westminster, and scorn to march i' the city, though i bear the horn. my feather and my yellow band accord, to prove me courtier; my boot, spur, and sword, my smoking-pipe, scarf, garter, rose on shoe, show my brave mind t' affect what gallants do. i sing, dance, drink, and merrily pass the day, and, like a chimney, sweep all care away." in charles ii.'s time the "devil" became frequented by lawyers and physicians. the talk now was about drugs and latitats, jalap and the law of escheats. yet, still good company frequented it, for steele describes bickerstaff's sister jenny's wedding entertainment there in october, ; and in (queen anne) swift writes one of those charming letters to stella to tell her that he had dined on october th at the "devil," with addison and dr. garth, when the good-natured doctor, whom every one loved, stood treat, and there must have been talk worth hearing. in the apollo chamber the intolerable court odes of colley cibber, the poet laureate, used to be solemnly rehearsed with fitting music; and pope, in "the dunciad," says, scornfully:-- "back to the 'devil' the loud echoes roll, and 'coll' each butcher roars in hockly hole." but colley had talent and he had brass, and it took many such lines to put him down. a good epigram on these public recitations runs thus:-- "when laureates make odes, do you ask of what sort? do you ask if they're good or are evil? you may judge: from the 'devil' they come to the court, and go from the court to the 'devil.'" dr. kenrick afterwards gave lectures on shakespeare at the apollo. this kenrick, originally a rule-maker, and the malicious assailant of johnson and garrick, was the croker of his day. he originated the _london review_, and when he assailed johnson's "shakespeare," johnson laughingly replied, "that he was not going to be bound by kenrick's rules." in the royal society held its annual dinner in the old consecrated room, and in the year concerts of vocal and instrumental music were given in the same place. it was an upstairs chamber, probably detached from the tavern, and lay up a "close," or court, like some of the old edinburgh taverns. the last ray of light that fell on the "devil" was on a memorable spring evening in . dr. johnson (aged forty-two), then busy all day with his six amanuenses in a garret in gough square compiling his dictionary, at night enjoyed his elephantine mirth at a club in ivy lane, paternoster row. one night at the club, johnson proposed to celebrate the appearance of mrs. lennox's first novel, "the life of harriet stuart," by a supper at the "devil tavern." mrs. lennox was a lady for whom johnson--ranking her afterwards above mrs. carter, mrs. hannah more, or even his favourite, miss burney--had the greatest esteem. sir john hawkins, that somewhat malign rival of boswell, describes the night in a manner, for him, unusually genial. "johnson," says hawkins (and his words are too pleasant to condense), "proposed to us the celebrating the birth of mrs. lennox's first literary child, as he called her book, by a whole night spent in festivity. upon his mentioning it to me, i told him i had never sat up a night in my life; but he continuing to press me, and saying that i should find great delight in it, i, as did all the rest of the company, consented." (the club consisted of hawkins, an attorney; dr. salter, father of a master of the charter house; dr. hawkesworth, a popular author of the day; mr. ryland, a merchant; mr. john payne, a bookseller; mr. samuel dyer, a young man training for a dissenting minister; dr. william m'ghie, a scotch physician; dr. barker and dr. bathurst, young physicians.) "the place appointed was the 'devil tavern;' and there, about the hour of eight, mrs. lennox and her husband (a tide-waiter in the customs), a lady of her acquaintance, with the club and friends, to the number of twenty, assembled. the supper was elegant; johnson had directed that a magnificent hot apple-pie should make a part of it, and this he would have stuck with bay leaves, because, forsooth, mrs. lennox was an authoress and had written verses; and, further, he had prepared for her a crown of laurel, with which, but not till he had invoked the muses by some ceremonies of his own invention, he encircled her brows. the night passed, as must be imagined, in pleasant conversation and harmless mirth, intermingled at different, periods with the refreshment of coffee and tea. about five a.m., johnson's face shone with meridian splendour, though his drink had been only lemonade; but the far greater part of the company had deserted the colours of bacchus, and were with difficulty rallied to partake of a second refreshment of coffee, which was scarcely ended when the day began to dawn. this phenomenon began to put us in mind of our reckoning; but the waiters were all so overcome with sleep that it was two hours before a bill could be had, and it was not till near eight that the creaking of the street-door gave the signal of our departure." how one longs to dredge up some notes of such a night's conversation from the cruel river of oblivion! the apollo court, on the opposite side of fleet street, still preserves the memory of the great club-room at the "devil." [illustration: temple bar in dr. johnson's time (_see page _).] in , on an act passing for the removal of the dangerous projecting signs, the weather-beaten picture of the saint, with the devil gibbering over his shoulder, was nailed up flat to the front of the old gable-ended house. in , collins, a public lecturer and mimic, gave a satirical lecture at the "devil" on modern oratory. in some young lawyers founded there a pandemonium club; and after that there is no further record of the "devil" till it was pulled down and annexed by the neighbouring bankers. in steele's time there was a "devil tavern" at charing cross, and a rival "devil tavern" near st. dunstan's; but these competitors made no mark. [illustration: mull sack and lady fairfax (_see page _).] the "cock tavern" ( ), opposite the temple, has been immortalised by tennyson as thoroughly as the "devil" was by ben jonson. the playful verses inspired by a pint of generous port have made "the violet of a legend blow among the chops and steaks" for ever, though old will waterproof has long since descended for the last time the well-known cellar-stairs. the poem which has embalmed his name was, we believe, written when mr. tennyson had chambers in lincoln's inn fields. at that time the room was lined with wainscoting, and the silver tankards of special customers hung in glittering rows in the bar. this tavern was shut up at the time of the plague, and the advertisement announcing such closing is still extant. pepys, in his "diary," mentions bringing pretty mrs. knipp, an actress, of whom his wife was very jealous, here; and the gay couple "drank, eat a lobster, and sang, and mighty merry till almost midnight." on his way home to seething lane, the amorous navy office clerk with difficulty avoided two thieves with clubs, who met him at the entrance into the ruins of the great fire near st. dunstan's. these dangerous meetings with mrs. knipp went on till one night mrs. pepys came to his bedside and threatened to pinch him with the red-hot tongs. the waiters at the "cock" are fond of showing visitors one of the old tokens of the house in the time of charles ii. the old carved chimney-piece is of the age of james i.; and there is a doubtful tradition that the gilt bird that struts with such self-serene importance over the portal was the work of that great carver, grinling gibbons. "dick's coffee house" (no. , south) was kept in george ii.'s time by a mrs. yarrow and her daughter, who were much admired by the young templars who patronised the place. the rev. james miller, reviving an old french comedietta by rousseau, called "the coffee house," and introducing malicious allusions to the landlady and her fair daughter, so exasperated the young barristers that frequented "dick's," that they went in a body and hissed the piece from the boards. the author then wrote an apology, and published the play; but unluckily the artist who illustrated it took the bar at "dick's" as the background of his sketch. the templars went madder than ever at this, and the rev. miller, who translated voltaire's "mahomet" for garrick, never came up to the surface again. it was at "dick's" that cowper the poet showed the first symptoms of derangement. when his mind was off its balance he read a letter in a newspaper at "dick's," which he believed had been written to drive him to suicide. he went away and tried to hang himself; the garter breaking, he then resolved to drown himself; but, being hindered by some occurrence, repented for the moment. he was soon after sent to a madhouse in huntingdon. in a quarrel arose between two hot-headed gallants in "dick's" about the size of two dishes they had both seen at the "st. john's head" in chancery lane. the matter eventually was roughly ended at the "three cranes" in the vintry--a tavern mentioned by ben jonson--by one of them, rowland st. john, running his companion, john stiles, of lincoln's inn, through the body. the st. dunstan's club, founded in , holds its dinner at "dick's." the "rainbow tavern" (no. , south) was the second coffee-house started in london. four years before the restoration, mr. farr, a barber, began the trade here, trusting probably to the young temple barristers for support. the vintners grew jealous, and the neighbours, disliking the smell of the roasting coffee, indicted farr as a nuisance. but he persevered, and the arabian drink became popular. a satirist had soon to write regretfully,-- "and now, alas! the drink has credit got, and he's no gentleman that drinks it not." about , according to mr. timbs, the "rainbow" was kept by alexander moncrieff, grandfather of the dramatist who wrote _tom and jerry_. bernard lintot, the bookseller, who published pope's "homer," lived in a shop between the two temple gates (no. ). in an inimitable letter to the earl of burlington, pope has described how lintot (tonson's rival) overtook him once in windsor forest, as he was riding down to oxford. when they were resting under a tree in the forest, lintot, with a keen eye to business, pulled out "a mighty pretty 'horace,'" and said to pope, "what if you amused yourself in turning an ode till we mount again?" the poet smiled, but said nothing. presently they remounted, and as they rode on lintot stopped short, and broke out, after a long silence: "well, sir, how far have we got?" "seven miles," replied pope, naïvely. he told pope that by giving the hungry critics a dinner of a piece of beef and a pudding, he could make them see beauties in any author he chose. after all, pope did well with lintot, for he gained £ , by his "homer." dr. young, the poet, once unfortunately sent to lintot a letter meant for tonson, and the first words that lintot read were: "that bernard lintot is so great a scoundrel." in the same shop, which was then occupied by jacob robinson, the publisher, pope first met warburton. an interesting account of this meeting is given by sir john hawkins, which it may not be out of place to quote here. "the friendship of pope and warburton," he says, "had its commencement in that bookseller's shop which is situate on the west side of the gateway leading down the inner temple lane. warburton had some dealings with jacob robinson, the publisher, to whom the shop belonged, and may be supposed to have been drawn there on business; pope might have made a call of the like kind. however that may be, there they met, and entering into conversation, which was not soon ended, conceived a mutual liking, and, as we may suppose, plighted their faith to each other. the fruit of this interview, and the subsequent communications of the parties, was the publication, in november, , of a pamphlet with this title, 'a vindication of mr. pope's "essay on man," by the author of "the divine legation of moses." printed for j. robinson.'" at the middle temple gate, benjamin motte, successor to ben tooke, published swift's "gulliver's travels," for which he had grudgingly given only £ . the third door from chancery lane (no. , north side), mr. timbs points out, was in charles ii.'s time a tombstone-cutter's; and here, in , howel, whose "letters" give us many curious pictures of his time, saw a huge monument to four of the oxenham family, at the death of each of whom a white bird appeared fluttering about their bed. these miraculous occurrences had taken place at a town near exeter, and the witnesses names duly appeared below the epitaph. no. was afterwards rackstrow's museum of natural curiosities and anatomical figures; and the proprietor put sir isaac newton's head over the door for a sign. among other prodigies was the skeleton of a whale more than seventy feet long. donovan, a naturalist, succeeded rackstrow (who died in ) with his london museum. then, by a harlequin change, no. became the office of the _albion_ newspaper. charles lamb was turned over to this journal from the _morning post_. the editor, john fenwick, the "bigot" of lamb's "essay," was a needy, sanguine man, who had purchased the paper of a person named lovell, who had stood in the pillory for a libel against the prince of wales. for a long time fenwick contrived to pay the stamp office dues by money borrowed from compliant friends. "we," says lamb, in his delightful way, "attached our small talents to the forlorn fortunes of our friend. our occupation was now to write treason." lamb hinted at possible abdications. blocks, axes, and whitehall tribunals were covered with flowers of so cunning a periphrasis--as, mr. bayes says, never naming the _thing_ directly--that the keen eye of an attorney-general was insufficient to detect the lurking snake among them. at the south-west corner of chancery lane (no. ) once stood an old house said to have been the residence of that unfortunate reformer, sir john oldcastle, baron cobham, who was burnt in st. giles's fields in (henry v.). in charles ii.'s reign the celebrated whig green ribbon club used to meet here, and from the balcony flourish their periwigs, discharge squibs, and wave torches, when a great protestant procession passed by, to burn the effigy of the pope at the temple gate. the house, five stories high and covered with carvings, was pulled down for city improvements in . upon the site of no. (east corner of chancery lane) the father of cowley, that fantastic poet of charles ii.'s time, it is said carried on the trade of a grocer. in a later grocer there sold the finest caper tea for s. per lb., his fine green for s. per lb., hyson at s. per lb., and bohea at s. per lb. no house in fleet street has a more curious pedigree than that gilt and painted shop opposite chancery lane (no. , south side), falsely called "the palace of henry viii. and cardinal wolsey." it was originally the office of the duchy of cornwall, in the reign of james i. it is just possible that it was the house originally built by sir amyas paulet, at wolsey's command, in resentment for sir amyas having set wolsey, when a mere parish priest, in the stocks for a brawl. wolsey, at the time of the ignominious punishment, was schoolmaster to the children of the marquis of dorset. paulet was confined to this house for five or six years, to appease the proud cardinal, who lived in chancery lane. sir amyas rebuilt his prison, covering the front with badges of the cardinal. it was afterwards "nando's," a famous coffee-house, where thurlow picked up his first great brief. one night thurlow, arguing here keenly about the celebrated douglas case, was heard by some lawyers with delight, and the next day, to his astonishment, was appointed junior counsel. this cause won him a silk gown, and so his fortune was made by that one lucky night at "nando's." no. was afterwards the place where mrs. salmon (the madame tussaud of early times) exhibited her waxwork kings and queens. there was a figure on crutches at the door; and old mother shipton, the witch, kicked the astonished visitor as he left. mrs. salmon died in . the exhibition was then sold for £ , and removed to water lane. when mrs. salmon first removed from st. martin's-le-grand to near st. dunstan's church, she announced, with true professional dignity, that the new locality "was more convenient for the quality's coaches to stand unmolested." her "royal court of england" included figures. when the exhibition removed to water lane, some thieves one night got in, stripped the effigies of their finery, and broke half of them, throwing them into a heap that almost touched the ceiling. tonson, dryden's publisher, commenced business at the "judge's head," near the inner temple gate, so that when at the kit-kat club he was not far from his own shop. one day dryden, in a rage, drew the greedy bookseller with terrible force:-- "with leering looks, bull-faced, and speckled fair, with two left legs and judas-coloured hair, and frowzy pores that taint the ambient air." the poet promised a fuller portrait if the "dog" tormented him further. opposite mrs. salmon's, two doors west of old chancery lane, till , when the lawyer's lane was widened, stood an old, picturesque, gabled house, which was once the milliner's shop kept, in , by that good old soul, isaak walton. he was on the vestry board of st. dunstan's, and was constable and overseer for the precinct next temple bar; and on pleasant summer evenings he used to stroll out to the tottenham fields, rod in hand, to enjoy the gentle sport which he so much loved. he afterwards ( ) lived seven doors up chancery lane, west side, and there married the sister of that good christian, bishop ken, who wrote the "evening hymn," one of the most simply beautiful religious poems ever written. it is pleasant in busy fleet street to think of the good old citizen on his guileless way to the river lea, conning his verses on the delights of angling. praed's bank (no. , north side) was founded early in the century by mr. william praed, a banker of truro. the house had been originally the shop of mrs. salmon, till she moved to opposite chancery lane, and her wax kings and frail queens were replaced by piles of strong boxes and chests of gold. the house was rebuilt in , from the designs of sir john soane, whose curious museum still exists in lincoln's inn fields. praed, that delightful poet of society, was of the banker's family, and in him the poetry of refined wealth found a fitting exponent. fleet street, indeed, is rich in associations connected with bankers and booksellers; for at no. (south side) we come to messrs. gosling's. this bank was founded in by henry pinckney, a goldsmith, at the sign of the "three squirrels"--a sign still to be seen in the iron-work over the centre window. the original sign of solid silver, about two feet in height, made to lock and unlock, was discovered in the house in . it had probably been taken down on the general removal of out-door signs and forgotten. in a secret service-money account of the time of charles ii., there is an entry of a sum of £ s. d. for several parcels of gold and silver lace bought of william gosling and partners by the fair duchess of cleveland, for the wedding clothes of the lady sussex and lichfield. no. (south side), still a bookseller's, was originally kept for forty years by william sandby, one of the partners of snow's bank in the strand. he sold the business and goodwill in for £ , to a lieutenant of the royal navy, named john m'murray, who, dropping the mac, became the well-known tory publisher. murray tried in vain to induce falconer, the author of "the shipwreck," to join him as a partner. the first murray died in . in john murray, the son of the founder, removed to , albemarle street. in the _athenæum_ of a writer describes how byron used to stroll in here fresh from his fencing-lessons at angelo's or his sparring-bouts with jackson. he was wont to make cruel lunges with his stick at what he called "the spruce books" on murray's shelves, generally striking the doomed volume, and by no means improving the bindings. "i was sometimes, as you will guess," murray used to say with a laugh, "glad to get rid of him." here, in , was published "mrs. rundell's domestic cookery;" in , the _quarterly review_; and, in , byron's "childe harold." the original columbarian society, long since extinct, was born at offices in fleet street, near st. dunstan's. this society was replaced by the pholoperisteron, dear to all pigeon-fanciers, which held its meetings at "freemasons' tavern," and eventually amalgamated with its rival, the national columbarian, the fruitful union producing the national peristeronic society, now a flourishing institution, meeting periodically at "evans's," and holding a great fluttering and most pleasant annual show at the crystal palace. it is on these occasions that clouds of carrier-pigeons are let off, to decide the speed with which the swiftest and best-trained bird can reach a certain spot (a flight, of course, previously known to the bird), generally in belgium. the first st. dunstan's church--"in the west," as it is now called, to distinguish it from one near tower street--was built prior to . the present building was erected in . the older church stood thirty feet forward, blocking the carriage-way, and shops with projecting signs were built against the east and west walls. the churchyard was a favourite locality for booksellers. one of the most interesting stories connected with the old building relates to felton, the fanatical assassin of the duke of buckingham, the favourite of charles i. the murderer's mother and sisters lodged at a haberdasher's in fleet street, and were attending service in st. dunstan's church when the news arrived from portsmouth; they swooned away when they heard the name of the assassin. many of the clergy of st. dunstan's have been eminent men. tyndale, the translator of the new testament, did duty here. the poet donne was another of the st. dunstan's worthies; and sherlock and romaine both lectured at this church. the rectory house, sold in , was no. . the clock of old st. dunstan's was one of the great london sights in the last century. the giants that struck the hours had been set up in , and were made by thomas harrys, of water lane, for £ and the old clock. lord hertford purchased them, in , for £ , and set them up at his villa in regent's park. when a child he was often taken to see them; and he then used to say that some day he would buy "those giants." hatton, writing in , says that these figures were more admired on sundays by the populace than the most eloquent preacher in the pulpit within; and cowper, in his "table talk," cleverly compares dull poets to the st. dunstan's giants:-- "when labour and when dulness, club in hand, like the two figures at st. dunstan stand, beating alternately, in measured time, the clock-work tintinnabulum of rhyme." the most interesting relic of modern st. dunstan's is that unobtrusive figure of queen elizabeth at the east end. this figure from the old church came from ludgate when the city gates were destroyed in . it was bought for £ s. when the old church came to the ground, and was re-erected over the vestry entrance. the companion statues of king lud and his two sons were deposited in the parish bone-house. on one occasion when baxter was preaching in the old church of st. dunstan's, there arose a panic among the audience from two alarms of the building falling. every face turned pale; but the preacher, full of faith, sat calmly down in the pulpit till the panic subsided, then, resuming his sermon, said reprovingly, "we are in the service of god, to prepare ourselves that we may be fearless at the great noise of the dissolving world when the heavens shall pass away and the elements melt with fervent heat." mr. noble, in his record of this parish, has remarked on the extraordinary longevity attained by the incumbents of st. dunstan's. dr. white held the living for forty-nine years; dr. grant, for fifty-nine; the rev. joseph williamson (wilkes's chaplain) for forty-one years; while the rev. william romaine continued lecturer for forty-six years. the solution of the problem probably is that a good and secure income is the best promoter of longevity. several members of the great banking family of hoare are buried in st. dunstan's; but by far the most remarkable monument in the church bears the following inscription:-- "hobson judkins, esq., late of clifford's inn, the honest solicitor, who departed this life june , . this tablet was erected by his clients, as a token of gratitude and respect for his honest, faithful, and friendly conduct to them throughout life. go, reader, and imitate hobson judkins." among the burials at st. dunstan's noted in the registers, the following are the most remarkable:-- - , doctor oglethorpe, the bishop of carlisle, who crowned queen elizabeth; , dame bridgett browne, wife of sir richard browne, major-general of the city forces, who offered £ , reward for the capture of oliver cromwell; , christopher pinchbeck, the inventor of the metal named after him and a maker of musical clocks. the plague seems to have made great havoc in st. dunstan's, for in , out of burials, in only three months are marked "p.," for plague. the present church, built in - , was designed by john shaw, who died on the twelfth day after the completion of the outer shell, leaving his son to finish his work. the church is of a flimsy gothic, the true revival having hardly then commenced. the eight bells are from the old church. the two heads over the chief entrance are portraits of tyndale and dr. donne; and the painted window is the gift of the hoare family. according to aubrey, drayton, the great topographical poet, lived at "the bay-window house next the east end of st. dunstan's church." now it is a clearly proved fact that the great fire stopped just three doors east of st. dunstan's, as did also, mr. timbs says, another remarkable fire in ; so it is not impossible that the author of "the polyolbion," that good epic poem, once lived at the present no. , though the next house eastward is certainly older than its neighbour. we have given a drawing of the house. [illustration: mrs. salmon's waxwork, fleet street--"palace of henry viii. and cardinal wolsey" (_see page _).] that shameless rogue, edmund curll, lived at the "dial and bible," against st. dunstan's church. when this clever rascal was put in the pillory at charing cross, he persuaded the mob he was in for a political offence, and so secured the pity of the crowd. the author of "john buncle" describes curll as a tall, thin, awkward man, with goggle eyes, splay feet, and knock-knees. his translators lay three in a bed at the "pewter platter inn" at holborn. he published the most disgraceful books and forged letters. curll, in his revengeful spite, accused pope of pouring an emetic into his half-pint of canary when he and curll and lintot met by appointment at the "swan tavern," fleet street. by st. dunstan's, at the "homer's head," also lived the publisher of the first correct edition of "the dunciad." [illustration: st. dunstan's clock (_see page _).] among the booksellers who crowded round old st. dunstan's were thomas marsh, of the "prince's arms," who printed stow's "chronicles;" and william griffith, of the "falcon," in st. dunstan's churchyard, who, in the year , issued, without the authors' consent, _gorboduc_, written by thomas norton and lord buckhurst, the first real english tragedy and the first play written in english blank verse. john smethwicke, a still more honoured name, "under the diall" of st. dunstan's church, published "hamlet" and "romeo and juliet." richard marriot, another st. dunstan's bookseller, published quarle's "emblems," dr. donne's "sermons," that delightful, simple-hearted book, isaak walton's "complete angler," and butler's "hudibras," that wonderful mass of puns and quibbles, pressed close as potted meat. matthias walker, a st. dunstan's bookseller, was one of the three timid publishers who ventured on a certain poem, called "the paradise lost," giving john milton, the blind poet, the enormous sum of £ down, £ on the sale of , copies of the first, second, and third impressions, in all the munificent recompense of £ ; the agreement was given to the british museum in , by samuel rogers, the banker poet. nor in this list of fleet street printers must we forget to insert richard pynson, from normandy, who had worked at caxton's press, and was a contemporary of de worde. according to mr. noble (to whose work we are so deeply indebted), pynson printed in fleet street, at his office, the "george" (first in the strand, and afterwards beside st. dunstan's church), no less than works. the first of these, completed in the year , was probably the first book printed in fleet street, afterwards a gathering-place for the ink-stained craft. a copy of this book, "dives and pauper," was sold a few years since for no less than £ . in the same busy frenchman published an edition of "terence," the first latin classic printed in england. in he became printer to king henry vii., and after this produced editions of fabyan's and froissart's "chronicles." he seems to have had a bitter feud with a rival printer, named robert rudman, who pirated his trade-mark. in one of his books he thus quaintly falls foul of the enemy: "but truly rudeman, because he is the rudest out of a thousand men.... truly i wonder now at last that he hath confessed it in his own typography, unless it chanced that even as the devil made a cobbler a mariner, he made him a printer. formerly this scoundrel did prefer himself a bookseller, as well skilled as if he had started forth from utopia. he knows well that he is free who pretendeth to books, although it be nothing more." to this brief chronicle of early fleet street printers let us add richard bancks, who, in , at his office, "the sign of the white hart," printed that exquisite fairy poem, shakespeare's "midsummer night's dream." how one envies the "reader" of that office, the compositors--nay, even the sable imp who pulled the proof, and snatched a passage or two about mustard and pease blossom in a surreptitious glance! another great fleet street printer was richard grafton, the printer, as mr. noble says, of the first correct folio english translation of the bible, by permission of henry viii. when in paris, grafton had to fly with his books from the inquisition. after his patron cromwell's execution, in , grafton was sent to the fleet for printing bibles, but in the happier times of edward vi. he became king's printer at the grey friars (now christ's hospital). his former fellow-worker in paris, edward whitchurch, set up his press at de worde's old house, the "sun," near the fleet street conduit. he published the "paraphrase of erasmus," a copy of which, mr. noble says, existed, with its desk-chains, in the vestry of st. benet's, gracechurch street. whitchurch married the widow of archbishop cranmer. the "hercules pillars" (now no. , fleet street, south) was a celebrated tavern as early as the reign of james i., and in the now nameless alley by its side several houses of entertainment nestled themselves. the tavern is interesting to us chiefly because it was a favourite resort of pepys, who frequently mentions it in his quaint and graphic way. no. (hoare's bank), south, is well known by the golden bottle that still hangs, exciting curiosity, over the fanlight of the entrance. popular legend has it that this gilt case contains the original leather bottle carried by the founder when he came up to london, with the usual half-crown in his pocket, to seek his fortune. sir richard colt hoare, however, in his family history, destroys this romance. the bottle is merely a sign adopted by james hoare, the founder of the bank, from his father having been a citizen and cooper of the city of london. james hoare was a goldsmith who kept "running cash" at the "golden bottle" in cheapside in . the bank was removed to fleet street between and . the original bank, described by mr. timbs as "a low-browed building with a narrow entrance," was pulled down about forty years since. in the records of the debts of lord clarendon is the item, "to mr. hoare, for plate, £ s. d."; and, by the secret service expenses of james ii., "charles duncombe and james hoare, esqrs.," appear to have executed for a time the office of master-workers at the mint. a sir richard hoare was lord mayor in ; and another of the same family, sheriff in - and lord mayor in , distinguished himself by his preparations to defend london against the pretender. in an autobiographical record still extant of the shrievalty of the first of these gentlemen, the writer says:--"after being regaled with sack and walnuts, i returned to my own house in fleet street, in my private capacity, to my great consolation and comfort." this richard hoare, with beau nash, lady hastings, &c., founded, in , the bath general hospital, to which charity the firm still continue treasurers; and to this same philanthropic gentleman, robert nelson, who wrote the well-known book on "fasts and festivals," gave £ in trust as the first legacy to the society for promoting christian knowledge. mr. noble quotes a curious broadside still extant in which the second sir richard hoare, who died in , denies a false and malicious report that he had attempted to cause a run on the bank of england, and to occasion a disturbance in the city, by sending persons to the bank with ten notes of £ each. what a state of commercial wealth, to be shaken by the sudden demand of a mere £ ! next to hoare's once stood the "mitre tavern," where some of the most interesting of the meetings between dr. johnson and boswell took place. the old tavern was pulled down, in , by the messrs. hoare, to extend their banking-house. the original "mitre" was of shakespeare's time. in some ms. poems by richard jackson, a contemporary of the great poet, are some verses beginning, "from the rich lavinian shore," inscribed as "shakespeare's rime, which he made at ye 'mitre,' in fleet street." the balcony was set on flames during the great fire, and had to be pulled down. here, in june, , boswell came by solemn appointment to meet johnson, so long the god of his idolatry. they had first met at the shop of davis, the actor and bookseller, and afterwards near an eating-house in butcher row. boswell describes his feelings with delightful sincerity and self-complacency. "we had," he says, "a good supper and port wine, of which johnson then sometimes drank a bottle. the orthodox high church sound of the mitre, the figure and manner of the celebrated samuel johnson, the extraordinary power of his conversation, and the pride arising from finding myself admitted as his companion, produced a variety of sensations and a pleasing elevation of mind beyond what i had ever before experienced." that memorable evening johnson ridiculed colley cibber's birthday odes and paul whitehead's "grand nonsense," and ran down gray, who had declined his acquaintance. he talked of other poets, and praised poor goldsmith as a worthy man and excellent author. boswell fairly won the great man by his frank avowals and his adroit flattery. "give me your hand," at last cried the great man to the small man: "i have taken a liking to you." they then finished a bottle of port each, and parted between one and two in the morning. as they shook hands, on their way to no. , inner temple lane, where johnson then lived, johnson said, "sir, i am glad we have met. i hope we shall pass many evenings, and mornings too, together." a few weeks after the doctor and his young disciple met again at the "mitre," and goldsmith was present. the poet was full of love for dr. johnson, and speaking of some scapegrace, said tenderly, "he is now become miserable, and that insures the protection of johnson." at another "mitre" meeting, on a scotch gentleman present praising scotch scenery, johnson uttered his bitter gibe, "sir, let me tell you that the noblest prospect which a scotchman ever sees is the high road that leads him to england." in the same month johnson and boswell met again at the "mitre." the latter confessed his nerves were much shaken by the old port and the late tavern hours; and johnson laughed at people who had accepted a pension from the house of hanover abusing him as a jacobite. it was at the "mitre" that johnson urged boswell to publish his "travels in corsica;" and at the "mitre" he said finely of london, "sir, the happiness of london is not to be conceived but by those who have been in it. i will venture to say there is more learning and science within the circumference of ten miles from where we sit than in all the rest of the kingdom." it was here the famous "tour to the hebrides" was planned and laid out. another time we find goldsmith and boswell going arm-in-arm to bolt court, to prevail on johnson to go and sup at the "mitre;" but he was indisposed. goldsmith, since "the big man" could not go, would not venture at the "mitre" with boswell alone. at boswell's last "mitre" evening with johnson, may, , johnson would not leave mrs. williams, the blind old lady who lived with him, till he had promised to send her over some little dainty from the tavern. this was very kindly and worthy of the man who had the coat but not the heart of a bear. from to the society of antiquaries met at the "mitre," and discussed subjects then wrongly considered frivolous. the royal society had also conclaves at the same celebrated tavern; and here, in , thomas topham, the strongest man of his day, in the presence of eight persons, rolled up with his iron fingers a large pewter dish. in the "mitre" ceased to be a tavern, and became, first macklin's poet's gallery, and then an auction-room. the present spurious "mitre tavern," in mitre court, was originally known as "joe's coffee-house." it was at no. (south side) that lamb's friend, william hone, the publisher of the delightful "table book" and "every-day book," commenced business about . in he was brought before the wardmote inquest of st. dunstan's for placarding his shop on sundays, and for carrying on a retail trade as bookseller and stationer, not being a freeman. the government had no doubt suggested the persecution of so troublesome an opponent, whose defence of himself is said to have all but killed lord ellenborough, the judge who tried him for publishing blasphemous parodies. in hone took great interest in the case of eliza fenning, a poor innocent servant girl, who was hung for a supposed attempt to poison her master, a law stationer in chancery lane. it was afterwards believed that a nephew of mr. turner really put the poison in the dough of some dumplings, in revenge at being kept short of money. mr. cyrus jay, a shrewd observer, was present at hone's trial, and has described it with vividness:-- "hone defended himself firmly and well, but he had no spark of eloquence about him. for years afterwards i was often with him, and he was made a great deal of in society. he became very religious, and died a member of mr. clayton's independent chapel, worshipping at the weigh house. the last important incident of lord ellenborough's political life was the part he took as presiding judge in hone's trials for the publication of certain blasphemous parodies. at this time he was suffering from the most intense exhaustion, and his constitution was sinking under the fatigues of a long and sedulous discharge of his important duties. this did not deter him from taking his seat upon the bench on this occasion. when he entered the court, previous to the trial, hone shouted out, 'i am glad to see you, lord ellenborough. i know what you are come here for; i know what you want.' 'i am come to do justice,' replied his lordship. 'my wish is to see justice done.' 'is it not rather, my lord,' retorted hone, 'to send a poor devil of a bookseller to rot in a dungeon?' in the course of the proceedings lord ellenborough more than once interfered. hone, it must be acknowledged, with less vehemence than might have been expected, requested him to forbear. the next time his lordship made an observation, in answer to something the defendant urged in the course of his speech, hone exclaimed, in a voice of thunder, 'i do not speak to you, my lord; you are not my judge; these,' pointing to the jury, 'these are my judges, and it is to them that i address myself.' hone avenged himself on what he called the chief justice's partiality; he wounded him where he could not defend himself. arguing that athanasius was not the author of the creed that bears his name, he cited, by way of authority, passages from the writings of gibbon and warburton to establish his position. fixing his eyes on lord ellenborough, he then said, 'and, further, your lordship's father, the late worthy bishop of carlisle, has taken a similar view of the same creed.' lord ellenborough could not endure this allusion to his father's heterodoxy. in a broken voice he exclaimed, 'for the sake of decency, forbear!' the _request_ was immediately complied with. the jury acquitted hone, a result which is said to have killed the chief justice; but this is probably not true. that he suffered in consequence of the trial is certain. after he entered his private room, when the trial was over, his strength had so far deserted him that his son was obliged to put his hat on for him. but he quickly recovered his spirits; and on his way home, in passing through charing cross, he pulled the check-string, and said, 'it just occurs to me that they sell here the best herrings in london; buy six.' indeed dr. turner, afterwards bishop of calcutta, who accompanied him in his carriage, said that so far from his nerves being shaken by the hootings of the mob, lord ellenborough only observed that their saliva was worse than their bite.... "when hone was tried before him for blasphemy, lord tenterden treated him with great forbearance; but hone, not content with the indulgence, took to vilifying the judge. 'even in a turkish court i should not have met with the treatment i have experienced here,' he exclaimed. 'certainly,' replied lord tenterden; 'the bowstring would have been round your neck an hour ago.'" that sturdy political writer, william cobbett, lived at no. (north), and there published his _political register_. in he wrote from america, declaring that if sir robert peel's bank bill passed, he would give castlereagh leave to lay him on a gridiron and broil him alive, while sidmouth stirred the coals, and canning stood by and laughed at his groans. in he announced in his _register_ that he would place a gridiron on the front of his shop whenever peel's bill was repealed. the "small note bill" was repealed, when there was a reduction of the interest of the national debt. the gridiron so often threatened never actually went up, but it was to be seen a few years ago nailed on the gable end of a candle manufacturer's at kensington. the two houses next to cobbett's ( and ) are the oldest houses standing in fleet street. "peele's coffee-house" (nos. and , north side) once boasted a portrait of dr. johnson, said to be by sir joshua reynolds, on the keystone of the mantelpiece. this coffee-house is of antiquity, but is chiefly memorable for its useful files of newspapers and for its having been the central committee-room of the society for repealing the paper duty. the struggle began in , and eventually triumphed, thanks to the president, the right hon. milner gibson, and the chairman, the late mr. john cassell. the house within the last few years has been entirely rebuilt. in former times "peele's coffee-house" was quite a house of call and post-office for money-lenders and bill-discounters; though crowds of barristers and solicitors also frequented it, in order to consult the useful files of london and country newspapers hoarded there for now more than a century. mr. jay has left us an amusing sketch of one of the former frequenters of "peele's"--the late sir william owen barlow, a bencher of the middle temple. this methodical old gentleman had never travelled in a stage-coach or railway-carriage in his life, and had not for years read a book. he came in for dinner at the same hour every day, except in term-time, and was very angry if any loud talkers disturbed him at his evening paper. he once requested the instant discharge of a waiter at "peele's," because the civil but ungrammatical man had said, "there are a leg of mutton, and there is chops." chapter v. fleet street (_continued_). the "green dragon"--tompion and pinchbeck--the _record_--st. bride's and its memories--_punch_ and his contributors--the _dispatch_--the _daily telegraph_--the "globe tavern" and goldsmith--the _morning advertiser_--the _standard_--the _london magazine_--a strange story--alderman waithman--brutus billy--hardham and his " ." the original "green dragon" (no. , south) was destroyed by the great fire, and the new building set six feet backward. during the popish plot several anti-papal clubs met here; and from the windows roger north stood to see the shouting, torch-waving procession pass along, to burn the pope's effigy at temple bar. in the "discussion forum" many lord chancellors of the future have tried their eloquence. it was celebrated some years ago from an allusion to it made by napoleon iii. at no. (corner of whitefriars street) once lived that famous watchmaker of queen anne's reign, thomas tompion, who is said, in , to have begun a clock for st. paul's cathedral which was to go one hundred years without winding up. he died in . his apprentice, george graham, invented, as mr. noble tells us, the horizontal escapement, in . he was succeeded by mudge and dutton, who, in , made dr. johnson his first watch. the old shop was ( ) one of the last in fleet street to be modernised. between bolt and johnson's courts ( - , north)--say near "anderton's hotel"--there lived, in the reign of george ii., at the sign of the "astronomer's musical clock," christopher pinchbeck, an ingenious musical-clockmaker, who invented the "cheap and useful imitation of gold," which still bears his name. (watt's, in his "dictionary of chemistry," says "pinchbeck" is an alloy of copper and zinc, usually containing about nine parts copper to one part zinc. brandt says it is an alloy containing more copper than exists in brass, and consequently made by fusing various proportions of copper with brass.) pinchbeck often exhibited his musical automata in a booth at bartholomew fair, and, in conjunction with fawkes the conjuror, at southwark fair. he made, according to mr. wood, an exquisite musical clock, worth about £ , for louis xiv., and a fine organ for the great mogul, valued at £ . he died in . he removed to fleet street (between bolt and johnson's courts, north side) from clerkenwell in . his clocks played tunes and imitated the notes of birds. in he set up, at the queen's house, a clock with four faces, showing the age of the moon, the day of the week and month, the time of sun rising, &c. no. (north) was the shop of thomas hardy, that agitating bootmaker, secretary to the london corresponding society, who was implicated in the john horne tooke trials of ; and next door, years after (no. ), richard carlisle, a "freethinker," opened a lecturing, conversation, and discussion establishment, preached the "only true gospel," hung effigies of bishops outside his shop, and was eventually quieted by nine years' imprisonment, a punishment by no means undeserved. no. (south) was once the entrance to the printing-office of samuel richardson, the author of "clarissa," who afterwards lived in salisbury square, and there held levees of his admirers, to whom he read his works with an innocent vanity which occasionally met with disagreeable rebuffs. "anderton's hotel" (no. , north side) occupies the site of a house given, as mr. noble says, in , to the goldsmiths' company, under the singular title of "the horn in the hoop," probably at that time a tavern. in the register of st. dunstan's is an entry ( ), "ralph slaine at the horne, buryed," but no further record exists of this hot-headed roysterer. in the reign of king james i. the "horn" is described as "between the 'red lion,' over against serjeants' inn, and three-legged alley." [illustration: an evening with dr. johnson at the "mitre" (_see page _).] [illustration: old houses (still standing) in fleet street, near st. dunstan's church (_see page _).] the _record_ (no. , north side) started in as an organ of the extreme evangelical party. the first promoters were the late mr. james evans, a brother of sir andrew agnew, and mr. andrew hamilton, of west ham common (the first secretary of the alliance insurance company). among their supporters were henry law, dean of gloucester, and francis close, afterwards dean of carlisle. amongst its earliest writers was the celebrated dr. john henry newman, of oxford. the paper was all but dying when a new "whip" was made for money, and the rev. henry blunt, of chelsea, became for a short time its editor. the _record_ at last began to flourish and to assume a bolder and a more independent tone. dean milman's neology, the peculiarities of the irvingites, and the dangerous oxford tracts, were alternately denounced. in due course the _record_ began to appear three times a week, and became celebrated for its uncompromising religious tone and, as mr. james grant truly says, for the earliness and accuracy of its politico-ecclesiastical information. the old church of st. bride (bridget) was of great antiquity. as early as we find a turbulent foreigner, named henry de battle, after slaying one thomas de hall on the king's highway, flying for sanctuary to st. bride's, where he was guarded by the aldermen and sheriffs, and examined in the church by the constable of the tower. the murderer, after confessing his crime, abjured the realm. in a priest of st. bride's was hung for an intrigue in which he had been detected. william venor, a warden of the fleet prison, added a body and side-aisles in (edward iv.) at the reformation there were orchards between the parsonage gardens and the thames. in , a document in the record office, quoted by mr. noble, mentions that mr. palmer, vicar of st. bride's, at the service at seven a.m., sometimes omitted the prayer for the bishop, and, being generally lax as to forms, often read service without surplice, gown, or even his cloak. this worthy man, whose living was sequestered in , is recorded, in order to save money for the poor, to have lived in a bed-chamber in st. bride's steeple. he founded an almshouse in westminster, upon which fuller remarks, in his quaint way, "it giveth the best light when one carrieth his lantern before him." the brother of pepys was buried here in under his mother's pew. the old church was swallowed up by the great fire, and the present building erected in , at a cost of £ , s. d. the tower and spire were considered masterpieces of wren. the spire, originally feet high, was struck by lightning in , and it is now only feet high. it was again struck in . the illuminated dial (the second erected in london) was set up permanently in . the spital sermons, now preached in christ church, newgate street, were preached in st. bride's from the restoration till . they were originally all preached in the yard of the hospital of st. mary spital, bishopsgate. mr. noble, has ransacked the records relating to st. bride's with the patience of old stow. st. bride's, he says, was renowned for its tithe-rate contests; but after many lawsuits and great expense, a final settlement of the question was come to in the years - . an act was passed in , by which thomas townley, who had rented the tithes for twenty-one years, was to be paid £ , within two years, by quarterly payments and £ a year afterwards. in the inappropriate rectory of st. bridget and the tithes thereof, except the advowson, the parsonage house, and easter-dues offerings, were sold by auction for £ , . it may be here worthy to note, says mr. noble, that in the number of rateable houses in the parish of st. bride was , , and the rental £ , ; in the rental was £ , gross, or £ , rateable. mr. noble also records pleasantly the musical feats accomplished on the bells of st. bride's. in ten bells were cast for this church by abraham rudhall, of gloucester, and on the th of january, , it is recorded that the first complete peal of , grandsire caters ever rung was effected by the "london scholars." in two treble bells were added; and on the th of january, , the first peal ever completed in this kingdom upon twelve bells was rung by the college youths; and in the first peal of bob maximus, one of the ringers being mr. francis (afterwards admiral) geary. it was reported by the ancient ringers, says our trustworthy authority, that every one who rang in the last-mentioned peal left the church in his own carriage. such was the dignity of the "campanularian" art in those days. when st. bride's bells were first put up, fleet street used to be thronged with carriages full of gentry, who had come far and near to hear the pleasant music float aloft. during the terrible gordon riots, in , brasbridge, the silversmith, who wrote an autobiography, says he went up to the top of st. bride's steeple to see the awful spectacle of the conflagration of the fleet prison, but the flakes of fire, even at that great height, fell so thickly as to render the situation untenable. many great people lie in and around st. bride's; and mr. noble gives several curious extracts from the registers. among the names we find wynkyn de worde, the second printer in london; baker, the chronicler; lovelace, the cavalier poet, who died of want in gunpowder alley, shoe lane; ogilby, the translator of homer; the countess of orrery ( ); elizabeth thomas, a lady immortalised by pope; and john hardham, the fleet street tobacconist. the entrance to the vault of mr. holden (a friend of pepys), on the north side of the church, is a relic of the older building. inside st. bride's are monuments to richardson, the novelist; nichols, the historian of leicestershire; and alderman waithman. among the clergy of st. bride's mr. noble notes john cardmaker, who was burnt at smithfield for heresy, in ; fuller, the church historian and author of the "worthies," who was lecturer here; dr. isaac madox, originally an apprentice to a pastrycook, and who died bishop of winchester in ; and dr. john thomas, vicar, who died in . there were two john thomases among the city clergy of that time. they were both chaplains to the king, both good preachers, both squinted, and both died bishops! the present approach to st. bride's, designed by j.p. papworth, in , cost £ , , and was urged forward by mr. blades, a tory tradesman of ludgate hill, and a great opponent of alderman waithman. a fire that had destroyed some ricketty old houses gave the requisite opportunity for letting air and light round poor, smothered-up st. bride's. the office of _punch_ (no. , south side) is said to occupy the site of the small school, in the house of a tailor, in which milton once earned a precarious living. here, ever since , the pleasant jester of fleet street has scared folly by the jangle of his bells and the blows of his staff. the best and most authentic account of the origin of _punch_ is to be found in the following communication to _notes and queries_, september , . mr. w.h. wills, who was one of the earliest contributors to _punch_, says:-- "the idea of converting _punch_ from a strolling to a literary laughing philosopher belongs to mr. henry mayhew, former editor (with his schoolfellow mr. gilbert à beckett) of _figaro in london_. the first three numbers, issued in july and august, , were composed almost entirely by that gentleman, mr. mark lemon, mr. henry plunkett ('fusbos'), mr. stirling coyne, and the writer of these lines. messrs. mayhew and lemon put the numbers together, but did not formally dub themselves editors until the appearance of their 'shilling's worth of nonsense.' the cartoons, then 'punch's pencillings,' and the smaller cuts, were drawn by mr. a.s. henning, mr. newman, and mr. alfred forester ('crowquill'); later, by mr. hablot browne and mr. kenny meadows. the designs were engraved by mr. ebenezer landells, who occupied also the important position of 'capitalist.' mr. gilbert à beckett's first contribution to _punch_, 'the above-bridge navy,' appeared in no. , with mr. john leech's earliest cartoon, 'foreign affairs.' it was not till mr. leech's strong objection to treat political subjects was overcome, that, long after, he began to illustrate _punch's_ pages regularly. this he did, with the brilliant results that made his name famous, down to his untimely death. the letterpress description of 'foreign affairs' was written by mr. percival leigh, who--also after an interval--steadily contributed. mr. douglas jerrold began to wield _punch's_ baton in no. . his 'peel regularly called in' was the first of those withering political satires, signed with a 'j' in the corner of each page opposite to the cartoon, that conferred on _punch_ a wholesome influence in politics. mr. albert smith made his _début_ in this wise:--at the birth of _punch_ had just died a periodical called (i think) the _cosmorama_. when moribund, mr. henry mayhew was called in to resuscitate it. this periodical bequeathed a comic census-paper filled up, in the character of a showman, so cleverly that the author was eagerly sought at the starting of _punch_. he proved to be a medical student hailing from chertsey, and signing the initials a.s.--'only,' remarked jerrold, two-thirds of the truth, perhaps.' this pleasant supposition was, however, reversed at the very first introduction. on that occasion mr. albert smith left the 'copy' of the opening of 'the physiology of the london medical student. the writers already named, with a few volunteers selected from the editor's box, filled the first volume, and belonged to the ante-'b. & e.' era of _punch's_ history. the proprietary had hitherto consisted of messrs. henry mayhew, lemon, coyne, and landells. the printer and publisher also held shares, and were treasurers. although the popularity of _punch_ exceeded all expectation, the first volume ended in difficulties. from these storm-tossed seas _punch_ was rescued and brought into smooth water by messrs. bradbury & evans, who acquired the copyright and organised the staff. then it was that mr. mark lemon was appointed sole editor, a new office having been created for mr. henry mayhew--that of suggestor-in-chief; mr. mayhew's contributions, and his felicity in inventing pictorial and in 'putting' verbal witticisms, having already set a deep mark upon _punch's_ success. the second volume started merrily. mr. john oxenford contributed his first _jeu d'esprit_ in its final number on 'herr döbler and the candle-counter.' mr. thackeray commenced his connection in the beginning of the third volume with 'miss tickletoby's lectures on english history,' illustrated by himself. a few weeks later a handsome young student returned from germany. he was heartily welcomed by his brother, mr. henry mayhew, and then by the rest of the fraternity. mr. horace mayhew's diploma joke consisted, i believe, of 'questions addressées au grand concours aux elèves d'anglais du collége st. badaud, dans le département de la haute cockaigne' (vol. iii., p. ). mr. richard doyle, mr. tenniel, mr. shirley brooks, mr. tom taylor, and the younger celebrities who now keep _mr. punch_ in vigorous and jovial vitality, joined his establishment after some of the birth-mates had been drafted off to graver literary and other tasks." mr. mark lemon remained editor of _punch_ from till , when he died. mr. gilbert à beckett died at boulogne in . this most accomplished and gifted writer succeeded in the more varied kinds of composition, turning with extraordinary rapidity from a _times_ leader to a _punch_ epigram. a pamphlet attributed to mr. blanchard conveys, after all, the most minute account of the origin of _punch_. a favourite story of the literary gossipers who have made _mr. punch_ their subject from time to time, says the writer, is that he was born in a tavern parlour. the idea usually presented to the public is, that a little society of great men used to meet together in a private room in a tavern close to drury lane theatre--the "crown tavern," in vinegar yard. the truth is this:-- in the year there was a printing-office in a court running out of fleet street--no. , crane court--wherein was carried on the business of mr. william last. it was here that _punch_ first saw the light. the house, by the way, enjoys besides a distinction of a different kind--that of being the birthplace of "parr's life pills;" for mr. herbert ingram, who had not at that time launched the _illustrated london news_, nor become a member of parliament, was then introducing that since celebrated medicine to the public, and for that purpose had rented some rooms on the premises of his friend mr. last. the circumstance which led to _punch's_ birth was simple enough. in june, , mr. last called upon mr. alfred mayhew, then in the office of his father, mr. joshua mayhew, the well-known solicitor, of carey street, lincoln's inn fields. mr. mayhew was mr. last's legal adviser, and mr. last was well acquainted with several of his sons. upon the occasion in question mr. last made some inquiries of mr. alfred mayhew concerning his brother henry, and his occupation at the time. mr. henry mayhew had, even at his then early age, a reputation for the high abilities which he afterwards developed, had already experience in various departments of literature, and had exercised his projective and inventive faculties in various ways. if his friends had heard nothing of him for a few months, they usually found that he had a new design in hand, which was, however, in many cases, of a more original than practical character. mr. henry mayhew, as it appeared from his brother alfred's reply, was not at that time engaged in any new effort of his creative genius, and would be open to a proposal for active service. having obtained mr. henry mayhew's address, which was in clement's inn, mr. last called upon that gentleman on the following morning, and opened to him a proposal for a comic and satirical journal. henry mayhew readily entertained the idea; and the next question was, "can you get up a staff?" henry mayhew mentioned his friend mark lemon as a good commencement; and the pair proceeded to call upon that gentleman, who was living, not far off, in newcastle street, strand. the almost immediate result was the starting of _punch_. at a meeting at the "edinburgh castle" mr. mark lemon drew up the original prospectus. it was at first intended to call the new publication "the funny dog," or "funny dog, with comic tales," and from the first the subsidiary title of the "london charivari" was agreed upon. at a subsequent meeting at the printing-office, some one made some allusion to the "punch," and some joke about the "lemon" in it. henry mayhew, with his usual electric quickness, at once flew at the idea, and cried out, "a good thought; we'll call it _punch_." it was then remembered that, years before, douglas jerrold had edited a _penny punch_ for mr. duncombe, of middle row, holborn, but this was thought no objection, and the new name was carried by acclamation. it was agreed that there should be four proprietors--messrs. last, landells, lemon, and mayhew. last was to supply the printing, landells the engraving, and lemon and mayhew were to be co-editors. george hodder, with his usual good-nature, at once secured mr. percival leigh as a contributor, and leigh brought in his friend mr. john leech, and leech brought in albert smith. mr. henning designed the cover. when last had sunk £ , he sold it to bradbury & evans, on receiving the amount of his then outstanding liabilities. at the transfer, henning and newman both retired, mr. coyne and mr. grattan seldom contributed, and messrs. mayhew and landells also seceded. mr. hine, the artist, remained with _punch_ for many years; and among other artistic contributors who "came and went," to use mr. blanchard's own words, we must mention birket foster, alfred crowquill, lee, hamerton, john gilbert, william harvey, and kenny meadows, the last of whom illustrated one of jerrold's earliest series, "punch's letters to his son." _punch's almanac_ for was concocted for the greater part by dr. maginn, who was then in the fleet prison, where thackeray has drawn him, in the character of captain shandon, writing the famous prospectus for the _pall mall gazette_. the earliest hits of _punch_ were douglas jerrold's articles signed "j." and gilbert à beckett's "adventures of mr. briefless." in october, , mr. w.h. wills, afterwards working editor of _household words_ and _all the year round_, commenced "punch's guide to the watering-places." in january, , albert smith commenced his lively "physiology of london evening parties," which were illustrated by newman; and he wrote the "physiology of the london idler," which leech illustrated. in the third volume, jerrold commenced "punch's letters to his son;" and in the fourth volume, his "story of a feather;" albert smith's "side-scenes of society" carried on the social dissections of the comic physiologist, and à beckett began his "heathen mythology," and created the character of "jenkins," the supposed fashionable correspondent of the _morning post_. _punch_ had begun his career by ridiculing lord melbourne; he now attacked brougham, for his temporary subservience to wellington; and sir james graham came also in for a share of the rod; and the _morning herald_ and _standard_ were christened "mrs. gamp" and "mrs. harris," as old-fogyish opponents of peel and the free-traders. À beckett's "comic blackstone" proved a great hit, from its daring originality; and incessant jokes were squibbed off on lord john russell, prince albert (for his military tailoring), mr. silk buckingham and lord william lennox, mr. samuel carter hall and mr. harrison ainsworth. tennyson once, and once only, wrote for _punch_, a reply to lord lytton (then mr. bulwer), who had coarsely attacked him in his "new timon," where he had spoken flippantly of "a quaint farrago of absurd conceits, out-babying wordsworth and out-glittering keats." the epigram ended with these bitter and contemptuous lines,-- "a timon you? nay, nay, for shame! it looks too arrogant a jest-- that fierce old man--to take his name, you bandbox! off, and let him rest." albert smith left _punch_ many years before his death. in , on his return from the east, mr. thackeray began his "jeames's diary," and became a regular contributor. gilbert à beckett was now beginning his "comic history of england" and douglas jerrold his inimitable "caudle lectures." thomas hood occasionally contributed, but his immortal "song of the shirt" was his _chef-d'oeuvre_. coventry patmore contributed once to _punch_; his verses denounced general pellisier and his cruelty at the caves of dahra. laman blanchard occasionally wrote; his best poem was one on the marriage and temporary retirement of charming mrs. nisbett. in thackeray's "snobs of england" was highly successful. richard doyle's "manners and customs of ye english" brought _punch_ much increase. the present cover of _punch_ is by doyle, who, being a zealous roman catholic, eventually left _punch_ when it began to ridicule the pope and condemn papal aggression. _punch_ in his time has had his raps, but not many and not hard ones. poor angus b. reach (whose mind went early in life), with albert smith and shirley brooks, ridiculed _punch_ in the _man in the moon_, and in the poet bunn--"hot, cross bunn"--provoked at incessant attacks on his operatic verses, hired a man of letters to write "a word with _punch_" and a few smart personalities soon silenced the jester. "towards ," says mr. blanchard, "douglas jerrold, then writing plays and editing a magazine, began to write less for _punch_." in he died. among the later additions to the staff were mr. tom taylor and mr. shirley brooks. the _dispatch_ (no. , north) was established by mr. bell, in . moving from bride lane to newcastle street, and thence to wine office court, it settled down in the present locality in . mr. bell was an energetic man, and the paper succeeded in obtaining a good position; but he was not a man of large capital, and other persons had shares in the property. in consequence of difficulties between the proprietors there were at one time three _dispatches_ in the field--bell's, kent's, and duckett's; but the two last-mentioned were short-lived, and mr. bell maintained his position. bell's was a sporting paper, with many columns devoted to pugilism, and a woodcut exhibiting two boxers ready for an encounter. but the editor (says a story more or less authentic), mr. samuel smith, who had obtained his post by cleverly reporting a fight near canterbury, one day received a severe thrashing from a famous member of the ring. this changed the editor's opinions as to the propriety of boxing--at any-rate pugilism was repudiated by the _dispatch_ about ; and boxing, from the _dispatch_ point of view, was henceforward treated as a degrading and brutal amusement, unworthy of our civilisation. mr. harmer (afterwards alderman), a solicitor in extensive practice in old bailey cases, became connected with the paper about the time when the fleet street office was established, and contributed capital, which soon bore fruit. the success was so great, that for many years the _dispatch_ as a property was inferior only to the _times_. it became famous for its letters on political subjects. the original "publicola" was mr. williams, a violent and coarse but very vigorous and popular writer. he wrote weekly for about sixteen or seventeen years, and after his death the signature was assumed by mr. fox, the famous orator and member for oldham. other writers also borrowed the well-known signature. eliza cooke wrote in the _dispatch_ in , at first signing her poems "e." and "e.c."; but in the course of the following year her name appeared in full. she contributed a poem weekly for several years, relinquishing her connection with the paper in . afterwards, in , when the property changed hands, she wrote two or three poems. under the signature "caustic," mr. serle, the dramatic author and editor, contributed a weekly letter for about twenty-seven years; and from till was editor-in chief. in - the _dispatch_ had a hard-fought duel with the _times_. "publicola" wrote a series of letters, which had the effect of preventing the election of mr. walter for southwark. the _times_ retaliated when the time came for alderman harmer to succeed to the lord mayoralty. day after day the _times_ returned to the attack, denouncing the _dispatch_ as an infidel paper; and alderman harmer, rejected by the city, resigned in consequence his aldermanic gown. in the _dispatch_ commenced the publication of its famous "atlas," giving away a good map weekly for about five years. the price was reduced from fivepence to twopence, at the beginning of , and to a penny in . [illustration: st. bride's church, fleet street, after the fire, (_see page _).] the _daily telegraph_ office is no. (north). mr. ingram, of the _illustrated london news_, originated a paper called the _telegraph_, which lasted only seven or eight weeks. the present _daily telegraph_ was started on june , , by the late colonel sleigh. it was a single sheet, and the price twopence. colonel sleigh failing to make it a success, mr. levy, the present chief proprietor of the paper, took the copyright as part security for money owed him by colonel sleigh. in mr. levy's hands the paper, reduced to a penny, became a great success. "it was," says mr. grant, in his "history of the newspaper press," "the first of the penny papers, while a single sheet, and as such was regarded as a newspaper marvel; but when it came out--which it did soon after the _standard_--as a double sheet the size of the _times_, published at fourpence, for a penny, it created quite a sensation. here was a penny paper, containing not only the same amount of telegraphic and general information as the other high-priced papers--their price being then fourpence--but also evidently written, in its leading article department, with an ability which could only be surpassed by that of the leading articles of the _times_ itself. this was indeed a new era in the morning journalism of the metropolis." when mr. levy bought the _telegraph_, the sum which he received for advertisements in the first number was exactly s. d. the daily receipts for advertisements are now said to exceed £ . mr. grant says that the remission of the tax on paper brought £ , a year extra to the _telegraph_. ten pages for a penny is no uncommon thing with the _telegraph_ during the parliamentary session. the returns of sales given by the _telegraph_ for the half-year ending show an average daily sale of , ; and though this was war time, a competent authority estimates the average daily sale at , copies. one of the printing-machines recently set up by the proprietors of the _telegraph_ throws off upwards of copies per minute, or , an hour. [illustration: waithman's shop (_see page _).] the "globe tavern" (no. , north), though now only a memory, abounds with traditions of goldsmith and his motley friends. the house, in , was leased to one henry hottersall for forty-one years, at the yearly rent of £ , ten gallons of canary sack, and £ fine. mr. john forster gives a delightful sketch of goldsmith's wednesday evening club at the "globe," in . when not at johnson's great club, oliver beguiled his cares at a shilling rubber club at the "devil tavern," or at a humble gathering in the parlour of the "bedford," covent garden. a hanger-on of the theatres, who frequented the "globe," has left notes which mr. forster has admirably used, and which we now abridge without further apology. grim old macklin belonged to the club it is certain; and among the less obscure members was king, the comedian, the celebrated impersonator of lord ogleby. hugh kelly, another member, was a clever young irishman, who had chambers near goldsmith in the temple. he had been a stay-maker's apprentice, who, turning law writer, and soon landing as a hack for the magazines, set up as a satirist for the stage, and eventually, through garrick's patronage, succeeded in sentimental comedy. it was of him johnson said, "sir, i never desire to converse with a man who has written more than he has read." poor kelly afterwards went to the bar, and died of disappointment and over-work. a third member was captain thompson, a friend of garrick's, who wrote some good sea songs and edited "andrew marvell;" but foremost among all the boon companions was a needy irish doctor named glover, who had appeared on the stage, and who was said to have restored to life a man who had been hung; this glover, who was famous for his songs and imitations, once had the impudence, like theodore hook, to introduce goldsmith, during a summer ramble in hampstead, to a party where he was an entire stranger, and to pass himself off as a friend of the host. "our dr. glover," says goldsmith, "had a constant levee of his distressed countrymen, whose wants, as far as he was able, he always relieved." gordon, the fattest man in the club, was renowned for his jovial song of "nottingham ale;" and on special occasions goldsmith himself would sing his favourite nonsense about the little old woman who was tossed seventeen times higher than the moon. a fat pork-butcher at the "globe" used to offend goldsmith by constantly shouting out, "come, noll, here's my service to you, old boy." after the success of _the good-natured man_, this coarse familiarity was more than goldsmith's vanity could bear, so one special night he addressed the butcher with grave reproof. the stolid man, taking no notice, replied briskly, "thankee, mister noll." "well, where is the advantage of your reproof?" asked glover. "in truth," said goldsmith, good-naturedly, "i give it up; i ought to have known before that there is no putting a pig in the right way." sometimes rather cruel tricks were played on the credulous poet. one evening goldsmith came in clamorous for his supper, and ordered chops. directly the supper came in, the wags, by pre-agreement, began to sniff and swear. some pushed the plate away; others declared the rascal who had dared set such chops before a gentleman should be made to swallow them himself. the waiter was savagely rung up, and forced to eat the supper, to which he consented with well-feigned reluctance, the poet calmly ordering a fresh supper and a dram for the poor waiter, "who otherwise might get sick from so nauseating a meal." poor goldy! kindly even at his most foolish moments. a sadder story still connects goldsmith with the "globe." ned purdon, a worn-out booksellers' hack and a _protégé_ of goldsmith's, dropped down dead in smithfield. goldsmith wrote his epitaph as he came from his chambers in the temple to the "globe." the lines are:-- "here lies poor ned purdon, from misery freed, who long was a booksellers' hack; he led such a miserable life in this world, i don't think he'll wish to come back." goldsmith sat next glover that night at the club, and glover heard the poet repeat, _sotto voce_, with a mournful intonation, the words,-- "i don't think he'll wish to come back." oliver was musing over his own life, and mr. forster says touchingly, "it is not without a certain pathos to me, indeed, that he should have so repeated it." among other frequenters of the "globe" were boswell's friend akerman, the keeper of newgate, who always thought it prudent never to return home till daybreak; and william woodfall, the celebrated parliamentary reporter. in later times brasbridge, the sporting silversmith of fleet street, was a frequenter of the club. he tells us that among his associates was a surgeon, who, living on the surrey side of the thames, had to take a boat every night (blackfriar's bridge not being then built). this nightly navigation cost him three or four shillings a time, yet, when the bridge came, he grumbled at having to pay a penny toll. among other frequenters of the "globe," mr. timbs enumerates "archibald hamilton, whose mind was 'fit for a lord chancellor;' dunstall, the comedian; carnan, the bookseller, who defeated the stationers' company in the almanack trial; and, later still, the eccentric hugh evelyn, who set up a claim upon the great surrey estate of sir frederic evelyn." the _standard_ (no. , north), "the largest daily paper," was originally an evening paper alone. in a deputation of the leading men opposed to catholic emancipation waited on mr. charles baldwin, proprietor of the _st. james's chronicle_, and begged him to start an anti-catholic evening paper, but mr. baldwin refused unless a preliminary sum of £ , was lodged at the banker's. a year later this sum was deposited, and in the _evening standard_, edited by dr. giffard, ex-editor of the _st. james's chronicle_, appeared. mr. alaric watts, the poet, was succeeded as sub-editor of the _standard_ by the celebrated dr. maginn. the daily circulation soon rose from or copies to , and over. the profits mr. grant calculates at £ , to £ , a year. on the bankruptcy of mr. charles baldwin, mr. james johnson bought the _morning herald_ and _standard_, plant and all, for £ , . the proprietor reduced the _standard_ from fourpence to twopence, and made it a morning as well as an evening paper. in he reduced it to a penny only. the result was a great success. the annual income of the _standard_ is now, mr. grant says, "much exceeding yearly the annual incomes of most of the ducal dignities of the land." the legend of the duke of newcastle presenting dr. giffard, in , with £ , for a violent article against roman catholic claims, has been denied by dr. giffard's son in the _times_. the duke of wellington once wrote to dr. giffard to dictate the line the _standard_ and _morning herald_ were to adopt on a certain question during the agitation on the maynooth bill; and dr. giffard withdrew his opposition to please sir robert peel--a concession which injured the _standard_. yet in the following year, when sir robert peel brought in his bill for the abolition of the corn laws, he did not even pay dr. giffard the compliment of apprising him of his intention. such is official gratitude when a tool is done with. near shoe lane lived one of caxton's disciples. wynkyn de worde, who is supposed to have been one of caxton's assistants or workmen, was a native of lorraine. he carried on a prosperous career, says dibdin, from to , at the sign of the "sun," in the parish of st. bride's, fleet street. in upwards of four hundred works published by this industrious man he displayed unprecedented skill, elegance, and care, and his gothic type was considered a pattern for his successors. the books that came from his press were chiefly grammars, romances, legends of the saints, and fugitive poems; he never ventured on an english new testament, nor was any drama published bearing his name. his great patroness, margaret, the mother of henry vii., seems to have had little taste to guide de worde in his selection, for he never reprinted the works of chaucer or of gower; nor did his humble patron, robert thorney, the mercer, lead him in a better direction. de worde filled his black-letter books with rude engravings, which he used so indiscriminately that the same cut often served for books of a totally opposite character. by some writers de worde is considered to be the first introducer of roman letters into this country; but the honour of that mode of printing is now generally claimed by pynson, a contemporary. among other works published by de worde were "the ship of fools," that great satire that was so long popular in england; mandeville's lying "travels;" "la morte d'arthur" (from which tennyson has derived so much inspiration); "the golden legend;" and those curious treatises on "hunting, hawking, and fishing," partly written by johanna berners, a prioress of st. alban's. in de worde's "collection of christmas carols" we find the words of that fine old song, still sung annually at queen's college, oxford,-- "the boar's head in hand bring i, with garlands gay and rosemary." de worde also published some writings of erasmus. the old printer was buried in the parish church of st. bride's, before the high altar of st. katherine; and he left land to the parish so that masses should be said for his soul. to his servants, not forgetting his bookbinder, nowel, in shoe lane, he bequeathed books. de worde lived near the conduit, a little west of shoe lane. this conduit, which was begun in the year by sir william estfielde, a former lord mayor, and finished in , was, according to stow's account, a stone tower, with images of st. christopher on the top and angels, who, on sweet-sounding bells, hourly chimed a hymn with hammers, thus anticipating the wonders of st. dunstan's. these london conduits were great resorts for the apprentices, whom their masters sent with big leather and metal jugs to bring home the daily supply of water. here these noisy, quarrelsome young rascals stayed to gossip, idle, and fight. at the coronation of anne boleyn this conduit was newly painted, all the arms and angels refreshed, and "the music melodiously sounding." upon the conduit was raised a tower with four turrets, and in every turret stood one of the cardinal virtues, promising never to leave the queen, while, to the delight and wonder of thirsty citizens, the taps ran with claret and red wine. fleet street, according to mr. noble, was supplied with water in the middle ages from the conduit at marylebone and the holy wells of st. clement's and st. bridget's. the tradition is that the latter well was drained dry for the supply of the coronation banquet of george iv. as early as the inhabitants of fleet street complained of aqueduct pipes bursting and flooding their cellars, upon which they were allowed the privilege of erecting a pent-house over an aqueduct opposite the tavern of john walworth, and near the house of the bishop of salisbury. in a fleet street wax-chandler, having been detected tapping the conduit pipes for his own use, was sentenced to ride through the city with a vessel shaped like a conduit on his felonious head, and the city crier walking before him to proclaim his offence. the "castle tavern," mentioned as early as , stood at the south-west corner of shoe lane. here the clockmakers' company held their meetings before the great fire, and in the "castle" possessed the largest sign in london. early in the last century, says mr. noble, its proprietor was alderman sir john task, a wine merchant, who died in (george ii.), worth, it was understood, a quarter of a million of money. the _morning advertiser_ (no. , north) was established in , by the society of licensed victuallers, on the mutual benefit society principle. every member is bound to take in the paper and is entitled to a share in its profits. members unsuccessful in business become pensioners on the funds of the institution. the paper, which took the place of the _daily advertiser_, and was the suggestion of mr. grant, a master printer, was an immediate success. down to the _morning advertiser_ circulated chiefly in public-houses and coffee-houses at the rate of nearly , copies a day. but in , the circulation beginning to decline, the committee resolved to enlarge the paper to the size of the _times_, and mr. james grant was appointed editor. the profits now increased, and the paper found its way to the clubs. the late lord brougham and sir david brewster contributed to the _advertiser_; and the letters signed "an englishman" excited much interest. this paper has always been liberal. mr. grant remained the editor for twenty years. no. (south side) was till lately the office of that old-established paper, _bell's weekly messenger_. mr. bell, the spirited publisher who founded this paper, is delightfully sketched by leigh hunt in his autobiography. "about the period of my writing the above essays," he says, in his easy manner, "circumstances introduced me to the acquaintance of mr. bell, the proprietor of the _weekly messenger_. in his house, in the strand, i used to hear of politics and dramatic criticisms, and of the persons who wrote them. mr. bell had been well known as a bookseller and a speculator in elegant typography. it is to him the public are indebted for the small editions of the poets that preceded cooke's. bell was, upon the whole, a remarkable person. he was a plain man, with a red face and a nose exaggerated by intemperance; and yet there was something not unpleasing in his countenance, especially when he spoke. he had sparkling black eyes, a good-natured smile, gentlemanly manners, and one of the most agreeable voices i ever heard. he had no acquirements--perhaps not even grammar; but his taste in putting forth a publication and getting the best artists to adorn it was new in those times, and may be admired in any. unfortunately for mr. bell, the prince of wales, to whom he was bookseller, once did him the honour to partake of an entertainment or refreshment (i forget which--most probably the latter) at his house. he afterwards became a bankrupt. after his bankruptcy he set up a newspaper, which became profitable to everybody but himself."[ ] no. , fleet street (south side) is endeared to us by its connection with charles lamb. at that number, in , that great humorist, the king of all london clerks that ever were or will be, published his "elia," a collection of essays immortal as the language, full of quaint and tender thoughts and gleaming with cross-lights of humour as shot silk does with interchanging colours. in , when the first editor was shot in a duel, the _london magazine_ fell into the hands of messrs. taylor & hessey, of no. ; but they published the excellent periodical and gave their "magazine dinners" at their publishing house in waterloo place. mr. john scott, a man of great promise, the editor of the _london_ for the first publishers--messrs. baldwin, cradock, & joy--met with a very tragic death in . the duel in which he fell arose from a quarrel between the men on the _london_ and the clever but bitter and unscrupulous writers in _blackwood_, started in . lockhart, who had cruelly maligned leigh hunt and his set (the "cockney school," as the scotch tories chose to call them), was sharply attacked in the _london_. fiery and vindictive lockhart flew at once up to town, and angrily demanded from mr. scott, the editor, an explanation, an apology, or a meeting. mr. scott declined giving an apology unless mr. lockhart would first deny that he was editor of _blackwood_. lockhart refused to give this denial, and retorted by expressing a mean opinion of mr. scott's courage. lockhart and scott both printed contradictory versions of the quarrel, which worked up till at last mr. christie, a friend of lockhart's, challenged scott; and they met at chalk farm by moonlight on february th, at nine o'clock at night, attended by their seconds and surgeons, in the old business-like, bloodthirsty way. the first time mr. christie did not fire at mr. scott, a fact of which mr. patmore, the author, scott's second, with most blamable indiscretion, did not inform his principal. at the second fire christie's ball struck scott just above the right hip, and he fell. he lingered till the th. it was said at the time that hazlitt, perhaps unintentionally, had driven scott to fight by indirect taunts. "i don't pretend," hazlitt is reported to have said, "to hold the principles of honour which you hold. i would neither give nor accept a challenge. you hold the opinions of the world; with you it is different. as for me, it would be nothing. i do not think as you and the world think," and so on. poor scott, not yet forty, had married the pretty daughter of colnaghi, the printseller in pall mall, and left two children. for the five years it lasted, perhaps no magazine--not even the mighty _maga_ itself--ever drew talent towards it with such magnetic attraction. in mr. barry cornwall's delightful memoir of his old friend lamb, written when the writer was in his seventy-third year, he has summarised the writers on the _london_, and shown how deep and varied was the intellect brought to bear on its production. first of all he mentions poor scott, a shrewd, critical, rather hasty man, who wrote essays on sir walter scott, wordsworth, godwin, byron, keats, shelley, leigh hunt, and hazlitt, his wonderful contemporaries, in a fruitful age. hazlitt, glowing and capricious, produced the twelve essays of his "table talk," many dramatic articles, and papers on beckford's fonthill, the angerstein pictures, and the elgin marbles--pages wealthy with thought. lamb contributed in three years all the matchless essays of "elia." mr. thomas carlyle, then only a promising young scotch philosopher, wrote several articles on the "life and writings of schiller." mr. de quincey, that subtle thinker and bitter tory, contributed his wonderful "confessions of an opium-eater." that learned and amiable man, the rev. h.f. cary, the translator of dante, wrote several interesting notices of early french poets. allan cunningham, the vigorous scottish bard, sent the romantic "tales of lyddal cross" and a series of papers styled "traditional literature." mr. john poole--recently deceased, --(the author of _paul pry_ and that humorous novel, "little pedlington," which is supposed to have furnished mr. charles dickens with some suggestions for "pickwick") wrote burlesque imitations of contemporaneous dramatic writers--morton, dibdin, reynolds, moncrieff, &c. mr. j.h. reynolds wrote, under the name of henry herbert, notices of contemporaneous events, such as a scene at the cockpit, the trial of thurtell (a very powerful article), &c. that delightful punster and humorist, with pen or pencil, tom hood, sent to the _london_ his first poems of any ambition or length--"lycus the centaur," and "the two peacocks of bedfont." keats, "that sleepless soul that perished in its pride," and montgomery, both contributed poems. sir john bowring, the accomplished linguist, wrote on spanish poetry. mr. henry southern, the editor of that excellent work the _retrospective review_, contributed "the conversations of lord byron." mr. walter savage landor, that very original and eccentric thinker, published in the extraordinary magazine one of his admirable "imaginary conversations." mr. julius (afterwards archdeacon) hare reviewed the robust works of landor. mr. elton contributed graceful translations from catullus, propertius, &c. even among the lesser contributors there were very eminent writers, not forgetting barry cornwall, hartley coleridge, john clare, the northamptonshire peasant poet; and bernard barton, the quaker poet. nor must we omit that strange contrast to these pure-hearted and wise men, "janus weathercock" (wainwright), the polished villain who murdered his young niece and most probably several other friends and relations, for the money insured upon their lives. this gay and evil being, by no means a dull writer upon art and the drama, was much liked by lamb and the russell street set. the news of his cold-blooded crimes (transpiring in ) seem to have struck a deep horror among all the scoundrel's fashionable associates. although when arrested in france it was discovered that wainwright habitually carried strychnine about with him, he was only tried for forgery, and for that offence transported for life. a fine old citizen of the last century, joseph brasbridge, who published his memoirs, kept a silversmith's shop at no. , several doors from alderman waithman's. at one time brasbridge confesses he divided his time between the tavern club, the card party, the hunt, and the fight, and left his shop to be looked after by others, whilst he decided on the respective merits of humphries and mendoza, cribb and big ben. among brasbridge's early customers were the duke of marlborough, the duke of argyle, and other men of rank, and he glories in having once paid an elaborate compliment to lady hamilton. the most curious story in brasbridge's "fruits of experience" is the following, various versions of which have been paraphrased by modern writers. a surgeon in gough square had purchased for dissection the body of a man who had been hanged at tyburn. the servant girl, wishing to look at the corpse, stole upstairs in the doctor's absence, and, to her horror, found the body sitting up on the board, wondering where it was. the girl almost threw herself down the stairs in her fright. the surgeon, on learning of the resuscitation of his subject, humanely concealed the man in the house till he could fit him out for america. the fellow proved as clever and industrious as he was grateful, and having amassed a fortune, he eventually left it all to his benefactor. the sequel is still more curious. the surgeon dying some years after, his heirs were advertised for. a shoemaker at islington eventually established a claim and inherited the money. mean in prosperity, the _ci-devant_ shoemaker then refused to pay the lawyer's bill, and, moreover, called him a rogue. the enraged lawyer replied, "i have put you into possession of this property by my exertions, now i will spend £ out of my own pocket to take it away again, for you are not deserving of it." the lawyer accordingly advertised again for the surgeon's nearest of kin; mr. willcocks, a bookseller in the strand, then came forward, and deposed that his wife and her mother, he remembered, used to visit the surgeon in gough square. on inquiry mrs. willcocks was proved the next of kin, and the base shoemaker returned to his last. the lucky mr. willcocks was the good-natured bookseller who lent johnson and garrick, when they first came up to london to seek their fortunes, £ on their joint note. [illustration: alderman waithman, from an authentic portrait (_see page _).] nos. (now the _sunday times_ office) and were the shop of that bustling politician alderman waithman; and to his memory was erected the obelisk on the site of his first shop, formerly the north-west end of fleet market. waithman, according to mr. timbs, had a genius for the stage, and especially shone as macbeth. he was uncle to john reeve, the comic actor. cobbett, who hated waithman, has left a portrait of the alderman, written in his usual racy english. "among these persons," he says, talking of the princess caroline agitation, in , "there was a common councilman named robert waithman, a man who for many years had taken a conspicuous part in the politics of the city; a man not destitute of the powers of utterance, and a man of sound principles also. but a man so enveloped, so completely swallowed up by self-conceit, who, though perfectly illiterate, though unable to give to three consecutive sentences a grammatical construction, seemed to look upon himself as the first orator, the first writer, and the first statesman of the whole world. he had long been the cock of the democratic party in the city; he was a great speech-maker; could make very free with facts, and when it suited his purpose could resort to as foul play as most men." according to cobbett, who grows more than usually virulent on the occasion, waithman, vexed that alderman wood had been the first to propose an address of condolence to the princess at the common council, opposed it, and was defeated. as cobbett says, "he then checked himself, endeavoured to recover his ground, floundered about got some applause by talking about rotten boroughs and parliamentary reform. but all in vain. then rose cries of 'no, no! the address--the address!' which appear to have stung him to the quick. his face, which was none of the whitest, assumed a ten times darker die. his look was furious, while he uttered the words, 'i am sorry that my well-weighed opinions are in opposition to the general sentiment so hastily adopted; but i hope the livery will consider the necessity of preserving its character for purity and wisdom.'" on the appointed day the princess was presented with the address, to the delight of the more zealous radicals. the procession of more than one hundred carriages came back past carlton house on their return from kensington, the people groaning and hissing to torment the regent. [illustration: group at hardham's tobacco shop (_see page _).] brasbridge, the tory silversmith of fleet street, writes very contemptuously in his autobiography of waithman. sneering at his boast of reading, he says: "i own my curiosity was a little excited to know when and where he began his studies. it could not be in his shop in fleet market, for there he was too busily employed in attending to the fishwomen and other ladies connected with the business of the market. nor could it be at the corner of fleet street, where he was always no less assiduously engaged in ticketing his super-super calicoes at two and two pence, and cutting them off for two and twenty pence." according to brasbridge, waithman made his first speech in , in founder's hall, lothbury, "called by some at that time the cauldron of sedition." waithman was lord mayor in - , and was returned to parliament five times for the city. the portrait of waithman on page , and the view of his shop, page , are taken from pictures in mr. gardiner's magnificent collection. a short biography of this civic orator will not be uninteresting:--robert waithman was born of humble parentage, at wrexham, in north wales. becoming an orphan when only four months old, he was placed at the school of a mr. moore by his uncle, on whose death, about , he obtained a situation at reading, whence he proceeded to london, and entered into the service of a respectable linendraper, with whom he continued till he became of age. he then entered into business at the south end of fleet market, whence, some years afterwards, he removed to the corner of new bridge street. he appears to have commenced his political career about , at the oratorical displays made in admiration and imitation of the proceedings of the french revolutionists, at founder's hall, in lothbury. in he brought forward a series of resolutions, at a common hall, animadverting upon the war with revolutionised france, and enforcing the necessity of a reform in parliament. in he was first elected a member of the common council for the ward of farringdon without, and became a very frequent speaker in that public body. it was supposed that mr. fox intended to have rewarded his political exertions by the place of receiver-general of the land tax. in , after having been defeated on several previous occasions, he was elected as one of the representatives in parliament of the city of london, defeating the old member, sir william curtis. very shortly after, on the th of august, he was elected alderman of his ward, on the death of sir charles price, bart. on the th of january, , he made his maiden speech in parliament, on the presentation of a petition praying for a revision of the criminal code, the existing state of which he severely censured. at the ensuing election of the friends of sir william curtis turned the tables upon him, waithman being defeated. in this year, however, he attained the honour of the shrievalty; and in october, , he was chosen lord mayor. in he stood another contest for the city, with better success. in , , and he obtained his re-election with difficulty; but in he suffered a severe disappointment in losing the chamberlainship, in the competition for which sir james shaw obtained a large majority of votes. we subjoin the remarks made on his death by the editor of the _times_ newspaper:--"the magistracy of london has been deprived of one of its most respectable members, and the city of one of its most upright representatives. everybody knows that mr. alderman waithman has filled a large space in city politics; and most people who were acquainted with him will be ready to admit that, had his early education been better directed, or his early circumstances more favourable to his ambition, he might have become an important man in a wider and higher sphere. his natural parts, his political integrity, his consistency of conduct, and the energy and perseverance with which he performed his duties, placed him far above the common run of persons whose reputation is gained by their oratorical displays at meetings of the common council. in looking back at city proceedings for the last thirty-five or forty years, we find him always rising above his rivals as the steady and consistent advocate of the rights of his countrymen and the liberties and privileges of his fellow-citizens." there is a curious story told of the fleet street crossing, opposite waithman's corner. it was swept for years by an old black man named charles m'ghee, whose father had died in jamaica at the age of . according to mr. noble, when he laid down his broom he sold his professional right for £ , (£ ?). retiring into private life much respected, he was always to be seen on sundays at rowland hill's chapel. when in his seventy-third year his portrait was taken and hung in the parlour of the "twelve bells," bride lane. to miss waithman, who used to send him out soup and bread, he is, untruly, said to have left £ , . mr. diprose, in his "history of st. clement," tells us more of this black sweeper. "brutus billy," or "tim-buc-too," as he was generally called, lived in a passage leading from stanhope street into drury lane. he was a short, thick-set man, with his white-grey hair carefully brushed up into a toupee, the fashion of his youth. he was found in his shop, as he called his crossing, in all weathers, and was invariably civil. at night, after he had shut up shop (swept mud over his crossing), he carried round a basket of nuts and fruit to places of public entertainment, so that in time he laid by a considerable amount of money. brutus billy was brimful of story and anecdote. he died in chapel court in , in his eighty-seventh year. this worthy man was perhaps the model for billy waters, the negro beggar in _tom and jerry_, who is so indignant at the beggars' supper on seeing "a turkey without sassenges." in garrick's time john hardham, the well-known tobacconist, opened a shop at no. . there, at the sign of the "red lion," hardham's highlander kept steady guard at a doorway through which half the celebrities of the day made their exits and entrances. his celebrated "no. " snuff was said, like the french millefleur, to be composed of a great number of ingredients, and garrick in his kind way helped it into fashion by mentioning it favourably on the stage. hardham, a native of chichester, began life as a servant, wrote a comedy, acted, and at last became garrick's "numberer," having a general's quick _coup d'oeil_ at gauging an audience, and so checking the money-takers. garrick once became his security for a hundred pounds, but eventually hardham grew rich, and died in , bequeathing £ , to chichester, guineas to garrick, and merely setting apart £ for his funeral, only vain fools, as he said, spending more. we can fancy the great actors of that day seated on hardham's tobacco-chests discussing the drollery of foote or the vivacity of clive. "it has long been a source of inquiry," says a writer in the _city press_, "whence the origin of the cognomen, 'no. ,' to the celebrated snuff compounded still under the name of john hardham, in fleet street. there is a tradition that lord townsend, on being applied to by hardham, whom he patronised, to name the snuff, suggested the cabalistic number of , it being the exact number of a majority obtained in some proceedings in the irish parliament during the time he was lord lieutenant there, and which was considered a triumph for his government. the dates, however, do not serve this theory, as lord townsend was not viceroy till the years - , when the snuff must have been well established in public fame and hardham in the last years of his life. it has already been printed elsewhere that, on the famed snuff coming out in the first instance, david garrick, hearing of it, called in fleet street, as he was wont frequently to do, and offered to bring it under the public notice in the most effectual manner, by introducing an incident in a new comedy then about to be produced by him, where he would, in his part in the play, offer another character a pinch of snuff, who would extol its excellence, whereupon garrick arranged to continue the conversation by naming the snuff as the renowned ' of john hardham.' but the enigma, even now, is not solved; so we will, for what it may be worth, venture our own explanation. it is well known that in most of the celebrated snuffs before the public a great variety of qualities and descriptions of tobacco, and of various ages, are introduced. hardham, like the rest, never told his secret how the snuff was made, but left it as a heritage to his successors. it is very probable, therefore, that the mystic figures, , we have quoted represented the number of qualities, growths, and description of the 'fragrant weed' introduced by him into his snuff, and may be regarded as a sort of appellative rebus, or conceit, founded thereon."[ ] but hardham occupied himself in other ways than in the making of snuff and of money--for the chichester youth had now grown wealthy--and in extending his circle of acquaintances amongst dramatists and players; he was abundantly distinguished for christian charity, for, in the language of a contemporary writer, we find that "his deeds in that respect were extensive," and his bounty "was conveyed to many of the objects of it in the most delicate manner." from the same authority we find that hardham once failed in business (we presume, as a lapidary) more creditably than he could have made a fortune by it. this spirit of integrity, which remained a remarkable feature in his character throughout life, induced him to be often resorted to by his wealthy patrons as trustee for the payment of their bounties to deserving objects; in many cases the patrons died before the recipients of their relief. with hardham, however, this made no difference; the annuities once granted, although stopped by the decease of the donors, were paid ever after by hardham so long as he lived; and his delicacy of feeling induced him even to persuade the recipients into the belief that they were still derived from the same source. no. (south) was opened as a shop, in , by one lockyer, who called it "mount pleasant." it then became a "saloop-house," where the poor purchased a beverage made out of sassafras chips. the proprietor, who began life, as mr. noble says, with half-a-crown, died in march, , worth £ , . thomas read was a later tenant. charles lamb mentions "saloop" in one of his essays, and says, "palates otherwise not uninstructed in dietetical elegancies sup it up with avidity." chimney-sweeps, beloved by lamb, approved it, and eventually stalls were set up in the streets, as at present to reach even humbler customers. footnotes: [ ] an intelligent compositor (mr. j.p.s. bicknell), who has been a noter of curious passages in his time, informs me that bell was the first printer who confined the small letter "s" to its present shape, and rejected altogether the older form "s." [transcriber's note: "s." refers to the long s of early english] [ ] the real fact is, the famous snuff was merely called from the number of the drawer that held it. chapter vi. fleet street (northern tributaries--shoe lane and bell yard). the kit-kat club--the toast for the year--little lady mary--drunken john sly--garth's patients--club removed to barn elms--steele at the "trumpet"--rogues' lane--murder--beggars' haunts--thieves' dens--coiners--theodore hook in hemp's sponging-house--pope in bell yard--minor celebrities--apollo court. opposite child's bank, and almost within sound of the jingle of its gold, once stood shire lane, afterwards known as lower serle's place. it latterly became a dingy, disreputable defile, where lawyers' clerks and the hangers-on of the law-courts were often allured and sometimes robbed; yet it had been in its day a place of great repute. in this lane the kit-kat, the great club of queen anne's reign, held its sittings, at the "cat and fiddle," the shop of a pastrycook named christopher kat. the house, according to local antiquaries, afterwards became the "trumpet," a tavern mentioned by steele in the _tatler_, and latterly known as the "duke of york." the kit-kats were originally whig patriots, who, at the end of king william's reign, met in this out-of-the-way place to devise measures to secure the protestant succession and keep out the pestilent stuarts. latterly they assembled for simple enjoyment; and there have been grave disputes as to whether the club took its name from the punning sign, the "cat and kit," or from the favourite pies which christopher kat had christened; and as this question will probably last the antiquaries another two centuries, we leave it alone. according to some verses by arbuthnot, the chosen friend of pope and swift, the question was mooted even in his time, as if the very founders of the club had forgotten. some think that the club really began with a weekly dinner given by jacob tonson, the great bookseller of gray's inn lane, to his chief authors and patrons. this tonson, one of the patriarchs of english booksellers, who published dryden's "virgil," purchased a share of milton's works, and first made shakespeare's works cheap enough to be accessible to the many, was secretary to the club from the commencement. an average of thirty-nine poets, wits, noblemen, and gentlemen formed the staple of the association. the noblemen were perhaps rather too numerous for that republican equality that should prevail in the best intellectual society; yet above all the dukes shine out steele and addison, the two great luminaries of the club. among the kit-kat dukes was the great marlborough; among the earls the poetic dorset, the patron of dryden and prior; among the lords the wise halifax; among the baronets bluff sir robert walpole. of the poets and wits there were congreve, the most courtly of dramatists; garth, the poetical physician--"well-natured garth," as pope somewhat awkwardly calls him; and vanbrugh, the writer of admirable comedies. dryden could hardly have seriously belonged to a whig club; pope was inadmissible as a catholic, and prior as a renegade. latterly objectionable men pushed in, worst of all, lord mohun, a disreputable debauchee and duellist, afterwards run through by the duke of hamilton in hyde park, the duke himself perishing in the encounter. when mohun, in a drunken pet, broke a gilded emblem off a club chair, respectable old tonson predicted the downfall of the society, and said with a sigh, "the man who would do that would cut a man's throat." sir godfrey kneller, the great court painter of the reigns of william and anne, was a member; and he painted for his friend tonson the portraits of forty-two gentlemen of the kit-kat, including dryden, who died a year after it started. the forty-two portraits, painted three-quarter size (hence called kit-kat), to suit the walls of tonson's villa at barn elms, still exist, and are treasured by mr. r.w. baker, a representative of the tonson family, at hertingfordbury, in hertfordshire. among the lesser men of this distinguished club we must include pope's friends, the "knowing walsh" and "granville the polite." as at the "devil," "the tribe of ben" must have often discussed the downfall of lord bacon, the poisoning of overbury, the war in the palatinate, and the murder of buckingham; so in shire lane, opposite, the talk must have run on marlborough's victories, jacobite plots, and the south-sea bubble; addison must have discussed swift, and steele condemned the littleness of pope. it was the custom of this aristocratic club every year to elect some reigning beauty as a toast. to the queen of the year the gallant members wrote epigrammatic verses, which were etched with a diamond on the club glasses. the most celebrated of these toasts were the four daughters of the duke of marlborough--lady godolphin, lady sunderland (generally known as "the little whig"), lady bridgewater, and lady monthermer. swift's friend, mrs. long, was another; and so was a niece of sir isaac newton. the verses seem flat and dead now, like flowers found between the leaves of an old book; but in their time no doubt they had their special bloom and fragrance. the most tolerable are those written by lord halifax on "the little whig":-- "all nature's charms in sunderland appear, bright as her eyes and as her reason clear; yet still their force, to man not safely known, seems undiscovered to herself alone." yet how poor after all is this laboured compliment in comparison to a sentence of steele's on some lady of rank whose virtues he honoured,--"that even to have known her was in itself a liberal education." but few stories connected with the kit-kat meetings are to be dug out of books, though no doubt many snatches of the best conversation are embalmed in the _spectator_ and the _tatler_. yet lady mary wortley montagu, whom pope first admired and then reviled, tells one pleasant incident of her childhood that connects her with the great club. one evening when toasts were being chosen, her father, evelyn pierpoint, duke of kingston, took it into his head to nominate lady mary, then a child only eight years of age. she was prettier, he vowed, than any beauty on the list. "you shall see her," cried the duke, and instantly sent a chaise for her. presently she came ushered in, dressed in her best, and was elected by acclamation. the whig gentlemen drank the little lady's health up-standing and, feasting her with sweetmeats and passing her round with kisses, at once inscribed her name with a diamond on a drinking-glass. "pleasure," she says, "was too poor a word to express my sensations. they amounted to ecstasy. never again throughout my whole life did i pass so happy an evening." it used to be said that it took so much wine to raise addison to his best mood, that steele generally got drunk before that golden hour arrived. steele, that warm-hearted careless fellow in whom thackeray so delighted, certainly shone at the kit-kat; and an anecdote still extant shows him to us with all his amiable weaknesses. on the night of that great whig festival--the celebration of king william's anniversary--steele and addison brought dr. hoadley, the bishop of bangor, with them, and solemnly drank "the immortal memory." presently john sly, an eccentric hatter and enthusiastic politician, crawled into the room on his knees, in the old cavalier fashion, and drank the orange toast in a tankard of foaming october. no one laughed at the tipsy hatter; but steele, kindly even when in liquor, kept whispering to the rather shocked prelate, "do laugh; it is humanity to laugh." the bishop soon put on his hat and withdrew, and steele by and by subsided under the table. picked up and crammed into a sedan-chair, he insisted, late as it was, in going to the bishop of bangor's to apologise. eventually he was coaxed home and got upstairs, but then, in a gush of politeness, he insisted on seeing the chairmen out; after which he retired with self-complacency to bed. the next morning, in spite of headache the most racking, steele sent the tolerant bishop the following exquisite couplet, which covered a multitude of such sins:-- "virtue with so much ease on bangor sits, all faults he pardons, though he none commits." one night when amiable garth lingered over the kit-kat wine, though patients were pining for him, steele reproved the epicurean doctor. "nay, nay, dick," said garth, pulling out a list of fifteen, "it's no great matter after all, for nine of them have such bad constitutions that not all the physicians in the world could save them; and the other six have such good constitutions that all the physicians in the world could not kill them." three o'clock in the morning seems to have been no uncommon hour for the kit-kat to break up, and a tory lampooner says that at this club the youth of anne's reign learned "to sleep away the days and drink away the nights." the club latterly held its meetings at tonson's villa at barn elms (previously the residence of cowley), or at the "upper flask" tavern, on hampstead heath. the club died out before (george ii.); for vanbrugh, writing to tonson, says,--"both lord carlisle and cobham expressed a great desire of having one meeting next winter, not as a club, but as old friends that have been of a club--and the best club that ever met." in we find the kit-kat subscribing guineas for the encouragement of good comedies. altogether such a body of men must have had great influence on the literature of the age, for, in spite of the bitterness of party, there was some generous _esprit de corps_ then, and the whig wits and poets were a power, and were backed by rank and wealth. [illustration: lady mary wortley montagu and the kit-kats (_see page _).] whether the "trumpet" (formerly half-way up on the left-hand side ascending from temple bar) was the citadel of the kit-kats or not, steele introduces it as the scene of two of the best of his _tatler_ papers. it was there, in october, , that he received his deputation of staffordshire county gentlemen, delightful old fogies, standing much on form and precedence. there he prepares tea for sir harry quickset, bart.; sir giles wheelbarrow; thomas rentfree, esq., j.p.; andrew windmill, esq., the steward, with boots and whip; and mr. nicholas doubt, of the inner temple, sir harry's mischievous young nephew. after much dispute about precedence, the sturdy old fellows are taken by steele to "dick's" coffee-house for a morning draught; and safely, after some danger, effect the passage of fleet street, steele rallying them at the temple gate. in sir harry we fancy we see a faint sketch of the more dignified sir roger de coverley, which addison afterwards so exquisitely elaborated. [illustration: bishop butler (_see page _).] at the "trumpet" steele also introduces us to a delightful club of old citizens that met every evening precisely at six. the humours of the fifteen trumpeters are painted with the breadth and vigour of hogarth's best manner. with a delightful humour steele sketches sir geoffrey notch, the president, who had spent all his money on horses, dogs, and gamecocks, and who looked on all thriving persons as pitiful upstarts. then comes major matchlock, who thought nothing of any battle since marston moor, and who usually began his story of naseby at three-quarters past six. dick reptile was a silent man, with a nephew whom he often reproved. the wit of the club, an old temple bencher, never left the room till he had quoted ten distiches from "hudibras" and told long stories of a certain extinct man about town named jack ogle. old reptile was extremely attentive to all that was said, though he had heard the same stories every night for twenty years, and upon all occasions winked oracularly to his nephew to particularly mind what passed. about ten the innocent twaddle closed by a man coming in with a lantern to light home old bickerstaff. they were simple and happy times that steele describes with such kindly humour; and the london of his days must have been full of such quiet, homely haunts. mr. r. wells, of colne park, halstead, kindly informs us that as late as the year there was a club that still kept up the name of kit-kat. the members in included, among others, lord sandwich (jemmy twitcher, as he was generally called), mr. beard, lord weymouth, lord bolingbroke, the duke of queensbury, lord caresford, mr. cadogan, the marquis of caracciollo, mr. seymour, and sir george armytage. one of the most active managers of the club was richard phelps (who, we believe, afterwards was secretary to pitt). among letters and receipts preserved by mr. wells, is one from thomas pingo, jeweller, of the "golden head," on the "paved stones," gray's inn lane, for gold medals, probably to be worn by the members. even in the reign of james i. shire lane was christened rogues' lane, and, in spite of all the dukes and lords of the kit-kat, it never grew very respectable. in that incomparable young rascal, jack sheppard, used to frequent the "bible" public-house--a printers' house of call--at no. . there was a trap in one of the rooms by which jack could drop into a subterraneous passage leading to bell yard. tyburn gibbet cured jack of this trick. in the lane went on even worse, for there thomas carr (a low attorney, of elm court) and elizabeth adams robbed and murdered a gentleman named quarrington at the "angel and crown" tavern, and the miscreants were hung at tyburn. hogarth painted a portrait of the woman. one night, many years ago, a man was robbed, thrown downstairs, and killed, in one of the dens in shire lane. there was snow on the ground, and about two o'clock, when the watchmen grew drowsy and were a long while between their rounds, the frightened murderers carried the stiffened body up the lane and placed it bolt upright, near a dim oil lamp, at a neighbour's door. there the watchmen found it; but there was no clue to guide them, for nearly every house in the lane was infamous. years after, two ruffianly fellows who were confined in the king's bench were heard accusing each other of the murder in shire lane, and justice pounced upon her prey. one thieves' house, known as the "retreat," led, mr. diprose says, by a back way into crown court; and other dens had a passage into no. , strand. nos. , , and were known as cadgers' hall, and were much frequented by beggars, and bushels of bread, thrown aside by the professional mendicants, were found there by the police. the "sun" tavern, afterwards the "temple bar stores," had been a great resort for the tom and jerry frolics of the regency; and the "anti-gallican" tavern was a haunt of low sporting men, being kept by harry lee, father of the first and original "tiger," invented and made fashionable by the notorious lord barrymore. during the chartist times violent meetings were held at a club in shire lane. a good story is told of one of these. a detective in disguise attended an illegal meeting, leaving his comrades ready below. all at once a frantic hatter rose, denounced the detective as a spy, and proposed off-hand to pitch him out of window. permitted by the more peaceable to depart, the policeman scuttled downstairs as fast as he could, and, not being recognised in his disguise, was instantly knocked down by his friends' prompt truncheons. in ship yard, close to shire lane, once stood a block of disreputable, tumble-down houses, used by coiners, and known as the "smashing lumber." every room had a secret trap, and from the workshop above a shaft reached the cellars to hurry away by means of a basket and pulley all the apparatus at the first alarm. the first man made his fortune, but the new police soon ransacked the den and broke up the business. in august, , theodore hook, the witty and the heartless, was brought to a sponging-house kept by a sheriff's officer named hemp, at the upper end of shire lane, being under arrest for a crown debt of £ , , due to the crown for defalcations during his careless consulship at the mauritius. he was editor of _john bull_ at the time, and continued while in this horrid den to write his "sayings and doings," and to pour forth for royal pay his usual scurrilous lampoons at all who supported poor, persecuted queen caroline. dr. maginn, who had just come over from cork to practise toryism, was his constant visitor, and hemp's barred door no doubt often shook at their reckless laughter. hook at length left shire lane for the rules of the bench (temple place) in april, . previously to his arrest he had been living in retirement at lodgings, in somer's town, with a poor girl whom he had seduced. here he renewed the mad scenes of his thoughtless youth with terry, matthews, and wonderful old tom hill; and here he resumed (but not at these revels) his former acquaintanceship with that mischievous obstructive, wilson croker. after he left shire lane and the rules of the bench he went to putney. in spite of all bad proclivities, shire lane had its fits of respectability. in there was living there sir arthur atie, knt., in early life secretary to the great earl of leicester, and afterwards attendant on his step-son, the luckless earl of essex. elias ashmole, the great antiquary and student in alchemy and astrology, also honoured this lane, but he gathered in the temple those great collections of books and coins, some of which perished by fire, and some of which he afterwards gave to the university of oxford, where they were placed in a building called, in memory of the illustrious collector, the ashmolean museum. to mr. noble's research we are indebted for the knowledge that in mr. hoole, the translator of tasso, was living in shire lane, and from thence wrote to dr. percy, who was collecting his "ancient ballads," to ask him dr. wharton's address. hoole was at that time writing a dramatic piece called cyrus, for covent garden theatre. he seems to have been an amiable man but a feeble poet, was an esteemed friend of dr. johnson, and had a situation in the east india house. another illustrious tenant of shire lane was james perry, the proprietor of the _morning chronicle_, who died, as it was reported, worth £ , . that lively memoir-writer, taylor, of the sun, who wrote "monsieur tonson," describes perry as living in the narrow part of shire lane, opposite a passage which led to the stairs from boswell court. he lodged with mr. lunan, a bookbinder, who had married his sister, who subsequently became the wife of that great greek scholar, thirsty dr. porson. perry had begun life as the editor of the _gazeteer_, but being dismissed by a tory proprietor, and on the _morning chronicle_ being abandoned by woodfall, some friends of perry's bought the derelict for £ , and he and gray, a friend of barett, became the joint-proprietors of the concern. their printer, mr. lambert, lived in shire lane, and here the partners, too, lived for three or four years, when they removed to the corner-house of lancaster court, strand. bell yard can boast of but few associations; yet pope often visited the dingy passage, because there for some years resided his old friend fortescue, then a barrister, but afterwards a judge and master of the rolls. to fortescue pope dedicated his "imitation of the first satire of horace," published in . it contains what the late mr. rogers, the banker and poet, used to consider the best line pope ever wrote, and it is certainly almost perfect,-- "bare the mean heart that lurks behind a star." in that delightful collection of pope's "table talk," called "spence's anecdotes," we find that a chance remark of lord bolingbroke, on taking up a "horace" in pope's sick-room, led to those fine "imitations of horace" which we now possess. the "first satire" consists of an imaginary conversation between pope and fortescue, who advises him to write no more dangerous invectives against vice or folly. it was fortescue who assisted pope in writing the humorous law-report of "stradling _versus_ stiles," in "scriblerus." the intricate case is this, and is worthy of anstey himself: sir john swale, of swale's hall, in swale dale, by the river swale, knight, made his last will and testament, in which, among other bequests, was this: "out of the kind love and respect that i bear my much-honoured and good friend, mr. matthew stradling, gent., i do bequeath unto the said matthew stradling, gent., all my black and white horses." now the testator had six black horses, six white, and six pied horses. the debate, therefore, was whether the said matthew stradling should have the said pied horses, by virtue of the said bequest. the case, after much debate, is suddenly terminated by a motion in arrest of judgment that the pied horses were mares, and thereupon an inspection was prayed. this, it must be confessed, is admirable fooling. if the scriblerus club had carried out their plan of bantering the follies of the followers of every branch of knowledge, fortescue would no doubt have selected the law as his special butt. "this friend of pope," says mr. carruthers, "was consulted by the poet about all his affairs, as well as those of martha blount, and, as may be gathered, he gave him advice without a fee. the intercourse between the poet and his 'learned counsel' was cordial and sincere; and of the letters that passed between them sixty-eight have been published, ranging from to the last year of pope's life. they are short, unaffected letters--more truly _letters_ than any others in the series." fortescue was promoted to the bench of the exchequer in , from thence to the common pleas in , and in was made master of the rolls. pope's letters are often addressed to "his counsel learned in the law, at his house at the upper end of bell yard, near unto lincoln's inn." in march, , he writes of "that filthy old place, bell yard, which i want them and you to quit." apollo court, next bell yard, has little about it worthy of notice beyond the fact that it derived its name from the great club-room at the "devil" tavern, that once stood on the opposite side of fleet street, and the jovialities of which we have already chronicled. chapter vii. fleet street (northern tributaries--chancery lane). the asylum for jewish converts--the rolls chapel--ancient monuments--a speaker expelled for bribery--"remember cæsar"--trampling on a master of the rolls--sir william grant's oddities--sir john leach--funeral of lord gifford--mrs. clark and the duke of york--wolsey in his pomp--strafford--"honest isaak"--the lord keeper--lady fanshawe--jack randal--serjeants' inn--an evening with hazlitt at the "southampton"--charles lamb--sheridan--the sponging houses--the law institute--a tragical story. chancery, or chancellor's, lane, as it was first called, must have been a mere quagmire, or cart-track, in the reign of edward i., for strype tells us that at that period it had become so impassable to knight, monk, and citizen, that john breton, custos of london, had it barred up, to "hinder any harm;" and the bishop of chichester, whose house was there (now chichester rents), kept up the bar ten years; at the end of that time, on an inquisition of the annoyances of london, the bishop was proscribed at an inquest for setting up two staples and a bar, "whereby men with carts and other carriages could not pass." the bishop pleaded john breton's order, and the sheriff was then commanded to remove the annoyance, and the hooded men with their carts once more cracked their whips and whistled to their horses up and down the long disused lane. half-way up on the east side of chancery lane a dull archway, through which can be caught glimpses of the door of an old chapel, leads to the rolls court. on the site of that chapel, in the year , history tells us that henry iii. erected a carthusian house of maintenance for converted jews, who there lived under a christian governor. at a time when norman barons were not unaccustomed to pull out a jew's teeth, or to fry him on gridirons till he paid handsomely for his release, conversion, which secured safety from such rough practices, may not have been unfrequent. however, the converts decreasing when edward i., after hanging jews for clipping coin, banished the rest from the realm, half the property of the jews who were hung stern edward gave to the preachers who tried to convert the obstinate and stiff-necked generation, and half to the domus conversorum, in chancellor's lane. in we find the converts calling themselves, in a letter sent to the king by john the convert, "pauperes coelicolæ christi." in the reign of richard ii. a certain converted jew received twopence a day for life; and in the reign of henry iv. we find the daughter of a rabbi paid by the keepers of the house of converts a penny a day for life, by special patent. edward iii., in , broke up the jewish almshouse in chancellor's lane, and annexed the house and chapel to the newly-created office of custos rotulorum, or keeper of the rolls. some of the stones the old gaberdines have rubbed against are no doubt incorporated in the present chapel, which, however, has been so often altered, that, like the highlandman's gun, it is "new stock and new barrel." the first master of the rolls, in , was william burstal; but till thomas cromwell, in , the masters of the rolls were generally priests, and often king's chaplains. the rolls chapel was built, says pennant, by inigo jones, in , at a cost of £ , . dr. donne, the poet, preached the consecration sermon. one of the monuments belonging to the earlier chapel is that of dr. john yonge, master of the rolls in the reign of henry viii. vertue and walpole attribute the tomb to torregiano, michael angelo's contemporary and the sculptor of the tomb of henry vii. at westminster. the master is represented by the artist (who starved himself to death at seville) in effigy on an altar-tomb, in a red gown and deep square cap; his hands are crossed, his face wears an expression of calm resignation and profound devotion. in a recess at the back is a head of christ, and an angel's head appears on either side in high relief. another monument of interest in this quiet, legal chapel is that of sir edward bruce, created by james i. baron of kinloss. he was one of the crafty ambassadors sent by wily james to openly congratulate elizabeth on the failure of the revolt of essex, but secretly to commence a correspondence with cecil. the place of master of the rolls was brace's reward for this useful service. the ex-master lies with his head resting on his hand, in the "toothache" attitude ridiculed by the old dramatists. his hair is short, his beard long, and he wears a long furred robe. before him kneels a man in armour, possibly his son, lord kinloss, who, three years after his father's death, perished in a most savage duel with sir edward sackville, ancestor to the earls of elgin and aylesbury. another fine monument is that of sir richard allington, of horseheath, cambridgeshire, brother-in law of sir william cordall, a former master of the rolls, who died in . clad in armour, sir richard kneels,-- "as for past sins he would atone, by saying endless prayers in stone." his wife faces him, and beneath on a tablet kneel their three daughters. sir richard's charitable widow lived after his death in holborn, in a house long known as allington place. many of the past masters sleep within these walls, and amongst them sir john trevor, who died in (george i.), and sir john strange; but the latter has not had inscribed over his bones, as pennant remarks, the old punning epitaph,-- "here lies an honest lawyer--that is _strange_!" the above-mentioned sir john trevor, while speaker of the house of commons, being denounced for bribery, was compelled himself to preside over the subsequent debate--an unparalleled disgrace. the indictment ran:-- "that sir john trevor, speaker of the house, receiving a gratuity of , guineas from the city of london, after the passing of the orphans' bill, is guilty of high crime and misdemeanour." trevor was himself, as speaker, compelled to put this resolution from the chair. the "ayes" were not met by a single "no," and the culprit was required to officially announce that, in the unanimous opinion of the house over which he presided, he stood convicted of a high crime. "his expulsion from the house," says mr. jeaffreson, in his "book about lawyers," "followed in due course. one is inclined to think that in these days no english gentleman could outlive such humiliation for four-and-twenty hours. sir john trevor not only survived the humiliation, but remained a personage of importance in london society. convicted of bribery, he was not called upon to refund the bribe; and expelled from the house of commons, he was not driven from his judicial office. he continued to be the master of the rolls till his death, which took place on may , , in his official mansion in chancery lane. his retention of office is easily accounted for. having acted as a vile negotiator between the two great political parties, they were equally afraid of him. neither the whigs nor the tories dared to demand his expulsion from office, fearing that in revenge he would make revelations alike disgraceful to all parties concerned." the arms of sir robert cecil and sir harbottle grimstone gleam in the chapel windows. swift's detestation, bishop burnet, the historian and friend of william of orange, was preacher here for nine years, and here delivered his celebrated sermon, "save me from the lion's mouth: thou hast heard me from the horns of the unicorn." burnet was appointed by sir harbottle, who was master of the rolls; and in his "own times" he has inserted a warm eulogy of sir harbottle as a worthy and pious man. atterbury, the jacobite bishop of rochester, was also preacher here; nor can we forget that amiable man and great theologian, bishop butler, the author of the "analogy of religion." butler, the son of a dissenting tradesman at wantage, was for a long time lost in a small country living, a loss to the church which archbishop blackburne lamented to queen caroline. "why, i thought he had been dead!" exclaimed the queen. "no, madam," replied the archbishop; "he is only buried." in butler was appointed preacher at the rolls by sir joseph. jekyll. this excellent man afterwards became bishop of bristol, and died bishop of durham. [illustration: wolsey in chancery lane (_see page _).] a few anecdotes about past dignitaries at the rolls. of sir julius cæsar, master of the rolls in the reign of charles i., lord clarendon, in his "history of the rebellion," tells a story too good to be passed by. this sir julius, having by right of office the power of appointing the six clerks, designed one of the profitable posts for his son, robert cæsar. one of the clerks dying before sir julius could appoint his son, the imperious treasurer, sir richard weston, promised his place to a dependant of his, who gave him for it £ , down. the vexation of old sir julius at this arbitrary step so moved his friends, that king charles was induced to promise robert cæsar the next post in the clerks' office that should fall vacant, and the lord treasurer was bound by this promise. one day the earl of tullibardine, passionately pressing the treasurer about his business, was told by sir richard that he had quite forgotten the matter, but begged for a memorandum, that he might remind the king that very afternoon. the earl then wrote on a small bit of paper the words, "remember cæsar!" and sir richard, without reading it, placed it carefully in a little pocket, where he said he kept all the memorials first to be transacted. many days passed, and the ambitious treasurer forgot all about cæsar. at length one night, changing his clothes, his servant brought him the notes and papers from his pocket, which he looked over according to his custom. among these he found the little billet with merely the words "remember cæsar!" and on the sight of this the arrogant yet timid courtier was utterly confounded. turning pale, he sent for his bosom friends, showed them the paper, and held a solemn deliberation over it. it was decided that it must have been dropped into his hand by some secret friend, as he was on his way to the priory lodgings. every one agreed that some conspiracy was planned against his life by his many and mighty enemies, and that cæsar's fate might soon be his unless great precautions were taken. the friends therefore persuaded him to be at once indisposed, and not venture forth in that neighbourhood, nor to admit to an audience any but persons of undoubted affection. at night the gates were shut and barred early, and the porter solemnly enjoined not to open them to any one, or to venture on even a moment's sleep. some servants were sent to watch with him, and the friends sat up all night to await the event. "such houses," says clarendon, who did not like the treasurer, "are always in the morning haunted by early suitors;" but it was very late before any one could now get admittance into the house, the porter having tasted some of the arrears of sleep which he owed to himself for his night watching, which he accounted for to his acquaintance by whispering to them "that his lord should have been killed that night, which had kept all the house from going to bed." shortly afterwards, however, the earl of tullibardine asking the treasurer whether he had remembered cæsar, the treasurer quickly recollected the ground of his perturbation, could not forbear imparting it to his friends, and so the whole jest came to be discovered. [illustration: izaak walton's house (_see page _).] in , £ s. d. was claimed by sir julius cæsar for paving the part of chancery lane over against the rolls gate. sir joseph jekyll, the master of the rolls in the reign of george i., was an ancestor of that witty jekyll, the friend and adviser of george iv. sir joseph was very active in introducing a bill for increasing the duty on gin, in consequence of which he became so odious to the mob that they one day hustled and trampled on him in a riot in lincoln's inn fields. hogarth, who painted his "gin lane" to express his alarm and disgust at the growing intemperance of the london poor, has in one of his extraordinary pictures represented a low fellow writing j.j. under a gibbet. sir william grant, who succeeded lord alvanley, was the last master but one that resided in the rolls. he had practised at the canadian bar, and on returning to england attracted the attention of lord thurlow, then chancellor. he was an admirable speaker in the house, and even fox is said to have girded himself tighter for an encounter with such an adversary. "he used," says mr. cyrus jay, in his amusing book, "the law," "to sit from five o'clock till one, and seldom spoke during that time. he dined before going into court, his allowance being a bottle of madeira at dinner and a bottle of port after. he dined alone, and the unfortunate servant was expected to anticipate his master's wishes by intuition. sir william never spoke if he could help it. on one occasion when the favourite dish of a leg of pork was on the table, the servant saw by sir william's face that something was wrong, but he could not tell what. suddenly a thought flashed upon him--the madeira was not on the table. he at once placed the decanter before sir william, who immediately flung it into the grate, exclaiming, "mustard, you fool!"" sir john leach, another master of the rolls, was the son of a tradesman at bedford, afterwards a merchant's clerk and an embryo architect. mr. canning appointed him master of the rolls, an office previously, it has been said, offered to mr. brougham. leach was fond, says mr. jay, of saying sharp, bitter things in a bland and courtly voice. "no submission could ameliorate his temper, no opposition lend asperity to his voice." in court two large fan shades were always placed in a way to shade him from the light, and to render sir john entirely invisible. "after the counsel who was addressing the court had finished, and resumed his seat, there would be an awful pause for a minute or two, when at length out of the darkness which surrounded the chair of justice would come a voice, distinct, awful, solemn, but with the solemnity of suppressed anger--'the bill is dismissed with costs.'" no explanations, no long series of arguments were advanced to support the conclusion. the decision was given with the air of a man who knew he was right, and that only folly or villainy could doubt the propriety of his judgments. sir john was the prince regent's great adviser during queen caroline's trial, and assisted in getting up the evidence. "how often," says mr. jay, "have i seen him, when walking through the green park between four and five o'clock in the afternoon, knock at the private door of carlton palace. i have seen him go in four or five days following." gifford was another eminent master of the rolls, though he did not hold the office long. he first attracted attention when a lawyer's clerk by his clever observations on a case in which he was consulted by his employers, in the presence of an important client. the high opinion which lord ellenborough formed of his talents induced lord liverpool to appoint him solicitor-general. while in the house he had frequently to encounter sir samuel romilly. mr. cyrus jay has an interesting anecdote about the funeral of lord gifford, who was buried in the rolls chapel. "i was," he says, "in the little gallery when the procession came into the chapel, and lord eldon and lord chief justice abbott were placed in a pew by themselves. i could observe everything that took place in the pew, it being a small chapel, and noted that lord eldon was very shaky, and during the most solemn part of the service saw him touch the chief justice. i have no doubt he asked for his snuff-box, for the snuff-box was produced, and he took a large pinch of snuff. the chief justice was a very great snuff-taker, but he only took it up one nostril. i kept my eye on the pinch of snuff, and saw that lord eldon, the moment he had taken it from the box, threw it away. i was sorry at the time, and was astonished at the deception practised by so great a man, with the grave yawning before him." when sir thomas plumer was master of the rolls, and gave a succession of dinners to the bar, romilly, alluding to lord eldon's stinginess, said, "verily he is working off the arrears of the lord chancellor." at the back of the rolls chapel, in bowling-pin alley, bream's buildings (no. , chancery lane), there once lived, according to party calumny, a journeyman labourer, named thompson, whose clever and pretty daughter, the wife of clark, a bricklayer, became the mischievous mistress of the good-natured but weak duke of york. after making great scandal about the sale of commissions obtained by her influence, the shrewd woman wrote some memoirs, , copies of which, mr. timbs records, were, the year after, burnt at a printer's in salisbury square, upon condition of her debts being paid, and an annuity of £ granted her. wilberforce's unscrupulous party statement, that mrs. clark was a low, vulgar, and extravagant woman, was entirely untrue. mrs. clark, however imprudent and devoid of virtue, was no more the daughter of a journeyman bricklayer than she was the daughter of pope pius. she was really, as mr. cyrus redding, who knew most of the political secrets of his day, has proved, the unfortunate granddaughter of that unfortunate man, theodore, king of corsica, and daughter of even a more unhappy man, colonel frederick, a brave, well-read gentleman, who, under the pressure of a temporary monetary difficulty, occasioned by the dishonourable conduct of a friend, blew out his brains in the churchyard of st. margaret's, westminster. in a poem, written, we believe, by mrs., then miss clark, called "ianthe," was published by subscription at hookham's, in new bond street, for the benefit of colonel frederick's daughter and children, and dedicated to the prince of wales. the girl married an excise officer, much older than herself, and became the mistress of the duke of york, to whom probably she had applied for assistance, or subscriptions to her poem. the fact is, the duke's vices were turned, as vices frequently are, into scourges for his own back. he was a jovial, good-natured, affable, selfish man, an incessant and reckless gambler, quite devoid of all conscience about debts, and, indeed, of moral principle in general. when he got tired of mrs. clark, he meanly and heartlessly left her, with a promised annuity which he never paid, and with debts mutually incurred at their house in gloucester place, which he shamefully allowed to fall upon her. in despair and revengeful rage the discarded mistress sought the eager enemies whom the duke's careless neglect had sown round him, and the scandal broke forth. the prince of wales, who was as fond of his brother as he could be of any one, was greatly vexed at the exposure, and sent lord moira to buy up the correspondence from the radical bookseller, sir richard phillips, who had advanced money upon it, and was glorying in the escapade. mr. timbs informs us that sir richard phillips, used to narrate the strange and mysterious story of the real secret cause of the duke of york scandal. the exposure originated in the resentment of one m'callum against sir thomas picton, who, as governor of trinidad, had, among other arbitrary acts, imprisoned m'callum in an underground dungeon. on getting to england he sought justice; but, finding himself baffled, he first published his travels in trinidad, to expose picton; then ferreted out charges against the war office, and at last, through colonel wardle, brought forward the notorious great-coat contract. this being negatived by a ministerial majority, he then traced mrs. clark, and arranged the whole of the exposure for wardle and others. to effect this in the teeth of power, though destitute of resources, he wrought night and day for months. he lodged in a garret in hungerford market, and often did not taste food for twenty-four hours. he lived to see the duke of york dismissed from office, had time to publish a short narrative, then died of exhaustion and want. an eye-witness of mrs. clark's behaviour at the bar of the house of commons pronounced her replies as full of sharpness against the more insolent of her adversaries, but her bearing is described as being "full of grace." mr. redding, who had read twenty or thirty of this lady's letters, tells us that they showed a good education in the writer. a writer who was present during her examination before the house of commons, has pleasantly described the singular scene. "i was," he says, "in the house of commons when mary anne clark first made her appearance at the bar, dressed in her light-blue pelisse, light muff and tippet. she was a pretty woman, rather of a slender make. it was debated whether she should have a chair; this occasioned a hubbub, and she was asked who the person with her deeply veiled was. she replied that she was her friend. the lady was instantly ordered to withdraw, then a chair was ordered for mrs. clark, and she seemed to pluck up courage, for when she was asked about the particulars of an annuity promised to be settled on her by the duke of york, she said, pointing with her hand, 'you may ask mr. william adam there, as he knows all about it.' she was asked if she was quite certain that general clavering ever was at any of her parties; she replied, 'so certain, that i always told him he need not use any ceremony, but come in his boots.' it will be remembered that general c. was sent to newgate for prevarication on that account, _not having recollected in time_ this circumstance. "perceval fought the battle manfully. the duke of york could not be justified for some of his acts--for instance, giving a footboy of mrs. clark's a commission in the army, and allowing an improper influence to be exerted over him in his thoughtless moments; but that the trial originated in pique and party spirit, there can be no doubt; and, as he justly merited, colonel wardle, the prosecutor in the case, sunk into utter oblivion, whilst the duke of york, the soldier's friend and the beloved of the army, was, after a short period (having been superseded by sir david dundas), replaced as commander-in-chief, and died deeply regretted and fully meriting the colossal statue erected to him, with his hand pointing to the horse guards." cardinal wolsey lived, at some period of his extraordinary career, in a house in chancery lane, at the holborn end, and on the east side, opposite the six clerks' office. we do not know what rank the proud favourite held at this time, whether he was almoner to the king, privy councillor, canon of windsor, bishop of lincoln, archbishop of york, or cardinal of the cecilia. we like to think that down that dingy legal lane he rode on his way to westminster hall, with all that magnificence described by his faithful gentleman usher, cavendish. he would come out of his chamber, we read, about eight o'clock in his cardinal's robes of scarlet taffeta and crimson satin, with a black velvet tippet edged with sable round his neck, holding in his hand an orange filled with a sponge containing aromatic vinegar, in case the crowd of suitors should in commode him. before him was borne the broad seal of england, and the scarlet cardinal's hat. a sergeant-at-arms preceded him bearing a great mace of silver, and two gentlemen carrying silver plates. at the hall-door he mounted his mule, trapped with crimson and having a saddle covered with crimson velvet, while the gentlemen ushers, bareheaded, cried,--"on, masters, before, and make room for my lord cardinal." when wolsey was mounted he was preceded by his two cross-bearers and his two pillow-bearers, all upon horses trapped in scarlet; and four footmen with pole-axes guarded the cardinal till he came to westminster. and every sunday, when he repaired to the king's court at greenwich, he landed at the three cranes, in the vintrey, and took water again at billingsgate. "he had," says cavendish, "a long season, ruling all things in the realm appertaining to the king, by his wisdom, and all other matters of foreign regions with whom the king had any occasion to meddle, and then he fell like lucifer, never to rise again. here," says cavendish, "is the end and fall of pride; for i assure you he was in his time the proudest man alive, having more regard to the honour of his person than to his spiritual functions, wherein he should have expressed more meekness and humility." one of the greatest names connected with chancery lane is that of the unfortunate wentworth, earl of strafford, who, after leading his master, charles i., on the path to the scaffold, was the first to lay his head upon the block. wentworth, the son of a yorkshire gentleman, was born in in chancery lane, at the house of mr. atkinson, his maternal grandfather, a bencher of lincoln's inn. at first an enemy of buckingham, the king's favourite, and opposed to the court, he was won over by a peerage and the counsels of his friend lord treasurer weston. he soon became a headlong and unscrupulous advocate of arbitrary power, and, as lord deputy of ireland, did his best to raise an army for the king and to earn his court name of "thorough." impeached for high treason, and accused by sir henry vane of a design to subdue england by force, he was forsaken by the weak king and condemned to the block. "put not your trust in princes," he said, when he heard of the king's consent to the execution of so faithful a servant, "nor in any child of man, for in them is no salvation." he died on tower hill, with calm and undaunted courage, expressing his devotion to the church of england, his loyalty to the king, and his earnest desire for the peace and welfare of the kingdom. of this steadfast and dangerous man clarendon has left one of those titianesque portraits in which he excelled. "he was a man," says the historian, "of great parts and extraordinary endowment of nature, and of great observation and a piercing judgment both into things and persons; but his too good skill in persons made him judge the worse of things, and so that upon the matter he wholly relied upon himself; and discerning many defects in most men, he too much neglected what they said or did. of all his passions his pride was most predominant, which a moderate exercise of ill fortune might have corrected and reformed; and which was by the hand of heaven strangely punished by bringing his destruction on him by two things that he most despised--the people and sir harry vane. in a word, the epitaph which plutarch records that sylla wrote for himself may not be unfitly applied to him--'that no man did ever pass him either in doing good to his friends or in doing harm to his enemies.'" izaak walton, that amiable old angler, lived for some years ( to ) of his happy and contented life in a house (no. ) on the west side of chancery lane (fleet street end). this was many years before he published his "complete angler," which did not, indeed, appear till the year before the restoration. yet we imagine that at this time the honest citizen often sallied forth to the lea banks with his friends, the roes, on those fine cool may mornings upon which he expatiates so pleasantly. a quiet man and a lover of peace was old izaak; and we may be sure no jingle of money ever hurried him back from the green fields where the lark, singing as she ascended higher and higher into the air, and nearer to the heavens, excelled, as he says, in her simple piety "all those little nimble musicians of the air (her fellows) who warble forth their various ditties with which nature has furnished them, to the shame of art." refreshed and exhilarated by the pure country air, we can fancy walton returning homeward to his chancery lane shop, humming to himself that fine old song of marlowe's which the milkmaid sung to him as he sat under the honeysuckle-hedge out of the shower,-- "come live with me and be my love, and we will all the pleasures prove that valleys, groves, or hills, or field, or woods, or steepy mountain, yield." how byron had the heart to call a man who loved such simple pleasures, and was so guileless and pure-hearted as walton, "a cruel old coxcomb," and to wish that in his gullet he had a hook, and "a strong trout to pull it," we never could understand; but byron was no angler, and we suppose he thought walton's advice about sewing up frogs' mouths, &c., somewhat hard-hearted. north, in his life of that faithful courtier of charles ii., lord keeper guildford, mentions that his lordship "settled himself in the great brick house in serjeants' inn, near chancery lane, which was formerly the lord chief justice hyde's, and that he held it till he had the great seal, and some time after. when his lordship lived in this house, before his lady began to want her health, he was in the height of all the felicity his nature was capable of. he had a seat in st. dunstan's church appropriated to him, and constantly kept the church in the mornings, and so his house was to his mind; and having, with leave, a door into serjeants' inn garden, he passed daily with ease to his chambers, dedicated to business and study. his friends he enjoyed at home, and politic ones often found him out at his chambers." he rebuilt serjeants' inn hall, which had become poor and ruinous, and improved all the dwellings in chancery lane from jackanapes alley down to fleet street. he also drained the street for the first time, and had a rate levied on the unwilling inhabitants, after which his at first reluctant neighbours thanked him warmly. this same lord keeper, a time-server and friend of arbitrary power, according to burnet, seems to have been a learned and studious man, for he encouraged the sale of barometers and wrote a philosophical essay on music. it was this timid courtier that unscrupulous jeffreys vexed by spreading a report that he had been seen riding on a rhinoceros, then one of the great sights of london. jeffreys was at the time hoping to supersede the lord keeper in office, and was anxious to cover him with ridicule. besides the cæsars, cecils, throckmortons, lincolns, sir john franklin, and edward reeve, who, according to mr. noble, all resided in chancery lane, when it was a fashionable legal quarter, we must not forget that on the site of no. lived sir richard fanshawe, the ambassador sent by charles ii. to arrange his marriage with the portuguese princess. this accomplished man, who translated guarini's "pastor fido," and the "lusiad" of camoens, died at madrid in . his brave yet gentle wife, who wrote some interesting memoirs, gives a graphic account of herself and her husband taking leave of his royal master, charles i., at hampton court. at parting, the king saluted her, and she prayed god to preserve his majesty with long life and happy years. the king stroked her on the cheek, and said, "child, if god pleaseth, it shall be so; but both you and i must submit to god's will, for you know whose hands i am in." then turning to sir richard, charles said, "be sure, dick, to tell my son all that i have said, and deliver these letters to my wife. pray god bless her; and i hope i shall do well." then, embracing sir richard, the king added, "thou hast ever been an honest man, and i hope god will bless thee, and make thee a happy servant to my son, whom i have charged in my letter to continue his love and trust to you; and i do promise you, if i am ever restored to my dignity, i will bountifully reward you both for your services and sufferings." "thus," says the noble royalist lady, enthusiastically, "did we part from that glorious sun that within a few months after was extinguished, to the grief of all christians who are not forsaken of their god." no. (east side) is the "hole in the wall" tavern, kept early in the century by jack randal, _alias_ "nonpareil," a fighting man, whom tom moore visited, says mr. noble, to get materials for his "tom cribb's memorial to congress," "randal's diary," and other satirical poems. hazlitt, when living in southampton buildings, describes going to this haunt of the fancy the night before the great fight between neate, the bristol butcher, and hickman, the gas-man, to find out where the encounter was to take place, although randal had once rather too forcibly expelled him for some trifling complaint about a chop. hazlitt went down to the fight with thurtell, the betting man, who afterwards murdered mr. weare, a gambler and bill-discounter of lyon's inn. in byron's early days taverns like randal's were frequented by all the men about town, who considered that to wear bird's-eye handkerchiefs and heavy-caped box coats was the height of manliness and fashion. chichester rents, a sorry place now, preserves a memory of the site of the town-house of the bishops of chichester. it was originally built in a garden belonging to one john herberton, granted the bishops by henry iii., who excepted it out of the charter of the jew converts' house, now the rolls chapel. serjeants' inn, originally designed for serjeants alone, is now open to all students, though it still more especially affects the freres serjens, or fratres servientes, who derived their name originally from being the lower grade or servitors of the knights templars. serjeants still address each other as "brother," and indeed, as far as cain and abel go, the brotherhood of lawyers cannot be disputed. the old formula at westminster, when a new serjeant approached the judges, was, "i think i see a brother." one of chaucer's canterbury pilgrims was a "serjeant of law." this inn dates back as early as the reign of henry iv., when it was held under a lease from the bishop of ely. in a william antrobus, citizen and taylor of london, held it at the rent of ten marks a year. in the hall windows are emblazoned the arms of lord keeper guildford ( ). the inn was rebuilt, all but the old dining-hall, by sir robert smirke, in the years - . [illustration: old serjeants' inn (_see page _).] the humours of southampton buildings, chancery lane, have been admirably described by hazlitt, and are well condensed by a contemporaneous writer, of whose labours we gratefully avail ourselves. "in a ray of light strikes the buildings, for one of the least popular, but by no means the least remarkable, of the charles lamb set came to lodge at no. , half-way down on the right-hand side as you come from holborn. there for four years lived, taught, wrote, and suffered that admirable essayist, fine-art and theatrical critic, thoughtful metaphysician, and miserable man, william hazlitt. he lodged at the house of mr. walker, a tailor, who was blessed with two fair daughters, with one of whom (sarah) hazlitt, then a married man, fell madly in love. he declared she was like the madonna (she seems really to have been a cold, calculating flirt, rather afraid of her wild lover). to his 'liber amoris,' a most stultifying series of dialogues between himself and the lodging-house keeper's daughter, the author appended a drawing of an antique gem (lucretia), which he declared to be the very image of the obdurate tailor's daughter. this untoward but remarkably gifted man, whom lamb admired, if he did not love, and whom leigh hunt regarded as a spirit highly endowed, usually spent his evenings at the 'southampton;' as we take it, that coffee-house on the left hand, next the patent office, as you enter the buildings from chancery lane. it is an unpretending public-house now, with the quiet, bald-looking coffee-room altered, but still one likes to wander past the place and think that hazlitt, his hand still warm with the grip of lamb's, has entered it often. in an essay on 'coffee-house politicians,' in the second volume of his 'table talk,' hazlitt has sketched the coterie at the 'southampton,' in a manner not unworthy of steele. the picture wants sir richard's mellow, jan steen colour, but it possesses much of wilkie's dainty touch and keen appreciation of character. let us call up, he says, the old customers at the 'southampton' from the dead, and take a glass with them. first of all comes mr. george kirkpatrick, who was admired by william, the sleek, neat waiter (who had a music-master to teach him the flageolet two hours every morning before the maids were up), for his temper in managing an argument. mr. kirkpatrick was one of those bland, simpering, self-complacent men, who, unshakable from the high tower of their own self-satisfaction, look down upon your arguments from their magnificent elevation. 'i will explain,' was his condescending phrase. if you corrected the intolerable magnifico, he corrected your correction; if you hinted at an obvious blunder, he was always aware what your mistaken objection would be. he and his clique would spend a whole evening on a wager as to whether the first edition of dr. johnson's 'dictionary' was quarto or folio. the confident assertions, the cautious ventures, the length of time demanded to ascertain the fact, the precise terms of the forfeit, the provisoes for getting out of paying it at last, led to a long and inextricable discussion. kirkpatrick's vanity, however, one night led him into a terrible pitfall. he recklessly ventured money on the fact that _the mourning bride_ was written by shakespeare; headlong he fell, and ruefully he partook of the bowl of punch for which he had to pay. as a rule his nightly outlay seldom exceeded sevenpence. four hours' good conversation for sevenpence made the 'southampton' the cheapest of london clubs. [illustration: hazlitt (_see page _).] "kirkpatrick's brother roger was the mercutio to his shallow. roger was a rare fellow, 'of the driest humour and the nicest tact, of infinite sleights and evasions, of a picked phraseology, and the very soul of mimicry.' he had the mind of a harlequin; his wit was acrobatic, and threw somersaults. he took in a character at a glance, and threw a pun at you as dexterously as a fly-fisher casts his fly over a trout's nose. 'how finely,' says hazlitt, in his best and heartiest mood; 'how finely, how truly, how gaily he took off the company at the "southampton!" poor and faint are my sketches compared to his! it was like looking into a camera-obscura--you saw faces shining and speaking. the smoke curled, the lights dazzled, the oak wainscoting took a higher polish. there was old s., tall and gaunt, with his couplet from pope and case at nisi prius; mudford, eyeing the ventilator and lying perdu for a moral; and h. and a. taking another friendly finishing glass. these and many more windfalls of character he gave us in thought, word, and action. i remember his once describing three different persons together to myself and martin burney [a bibulous nephew of madame d'arblay's and a great friend of charles lamb's], namely, the manager of a country theatre, a tragic and a comic performer, till we were ready to tumble on the floor with laughing at the oddity of their humours, and at roger's extraordinary powers of ventriloquism, bodily and mental; and burney said (such was the vividness of the scene) that when he awoke the next morning he wondered what three amusing characters he had been in company with the evening before.' he was fond also of imitating old mudford, of the _courier_, a fat, pert, dull man, who had left the _morning chronicle_ in , just as hazlitt joined it, and was renowned for having written a reply to 'coelebs.' he would enter a room, fold up his great-coat, take out a little pocket volume, lay it down to think, rubbing all the time the fleshy calf of his leg with dull gravity and intense and stolid self-complacency, and start out of his reveries when addressed with the same inimitable vapid exclamation of 'eh!' dr. whittle, a large, plain-faced moravian preacher, who had turned physician, was another of his chosen impersonations. roger represented the honest, vain, empty man purchasing an ounce of tea by stratagem to astonish a favoured guest; he portrayed him on the summit of a narrow, winding, and very steep staircase, contemplating in airy security the imaginary approach of duns. this worthy doctor on one occasion, when watching sarratt, the great chess-player, turned suddenly to hazlitt, and said, 'i think i could dance. i'm sure i could; aye, i could dance like vestris.' such were the odd people roger caricatured on the memorable night he pulled off his coat to eat beefsteaks on equal terms with martin burney. "then there was c., who, from his slender neck, shrillness of voice, and his ever-ready quibble and laugh at himself, was for some time taken for a lawyer, with which folk the buildings were then, as now, much infested. but on careful inquiry he turned out to be a patent-medicine seller, who at leisure moments had studied blackstone and the statutes at large from mere sympathy with the neighbourhood. e. came next, a rich tradesman, tory in grain, and an everlasting babbler on the strong side of politics; querulous, dictatorial, and with a peevish whine in his voice like a beaten schoolboy. he was a stout advocate for the bourbons and the national debt, and was duly disliked by hazlitt, we may feel assured. the bourbons he affirmed to be the choice of the french people, the debt necessary to the salvation of these kingdoms. to a little inoffensive man, 'of a saturnine aspect but simple conceptions,' hazlitt once heard him say grandly, 'i will tell you, sir. i will make my proposition so clear that you will be convinced of the truth of my observation in a moment. consider, sir, the number of trades that would be thrown out of employ if the debt were done away with. what would become of the porcelain manufacture without it?' he would then show the company a flower, the production of his own garden, calling it a unique and curious exotic, and hold forth on his carnations, his country-house, and his old english hospitality, though he never invited a friend to come down to a sunday's dinner. mean and ostentatious, insolent and servile, he did not know whether to treat those he conversed with as if they were his porters or his customers. the 'prentice boy was not yet ground out of him, and his imagination hovered between his grand new country mansion and the workhouse. opposed to him and every one else was k., a radical reformer and tedious logician, who wanted to make short work of the taxes and national debt, reconstruct the government from first principles, and shatter the holy alliance at a blow. he was for crushing out the future prospects of society as with a machine, and for starting where the french revolution had begun five-and-twenty years before. he was a born disturber, and never agreed to more than half a proposition at a time. being very stingy, he generally brought a bunch of radishes with him for economy, and would give a penny to a band of musicians at the door, observing that he liked their performance better than all the opera-squalling. his objections to the national debt arose from motives of personal economy; and he objected to mr. canning's pension because it took a farthing a year out of his own pocket. "another great sachem at the 'southampton' was mr. george mouncey, of the firm of mouncey & gray, solicitors, staple's inn. 'he was,' says hazlitt, 'the oldest frequenter of the place and the latest sitter-up; well-informed, unobtrusive, and that sturdy old english character, a lover of truth and justice. mouncey never approved of anything unfair or illiberal, and, though good-natured and gentleman-like, never let an absurd or unjust proposition pass him without expressing dissent.' he was much liked by hazlitt, for they had mutual friends, and mouncey had been intimate with most of the wits and men about town for twenty years before. 'he had in his time known tobin, wordsworth, porson, wilson, paley, and erskine. he would speak of paley's pleasantry and unassuming manners, and describe porson's deep potations and long quotations at the "cider cellars."' warming with his theme, hazlitt goes on in his essay to etch one memorable evening at the 'southampton.' a few only were left, 'like stars at break of day,' the discourse and the ale were growing sweeter; but mouncey, hazlitt, and a man named wells, alone remained. the conversation turned on the frail beauties of charles ii.'s court, and from thence passed to count grammont, their gallant, gay, and not over-scrupulous historian. each one cited his favourite passage in turn; from jacob hall, the rope-dancer, they progressed by pleasant stages of talk to pale miss churchill and her fortunate fall from her horse. wells then spoke of 'apuleius and his golden ass,' 'cupid and psyche,' and the romance of 'heliodorus, theogenes, and chariclea,' which, as he affirmed, opened with a pastoral landscape equal to one of claude's. 'the night waned,' says the delightful essayist, 'but our glasses brightened, enriched with the pearls of grecian story. our cup-bearer slept in a corner of the room, like another endymion, in the pale rays of a half-extinguished lamp, and, starting up at a fresh summons for a further supply, he swore it was too late, and was inexorable to entreaty. mouncey sat with his hat on and a hectic flush in his face while any hope remained, but as soon as we rose to go, he dashed out of the room as quick as lightning, determined not to be the last. i said some time after to the waiter that "mr. mouncey was no flincher." "oh, sir!" says he, "you should have known him formerly. now he is quite another man: he seldom stays later than one or two; then he used to help sing catches, and all sorts." "it was at the 'southampton' that george cruikshank, hazlitt, and hone used to often meet, to discuss subjects for hone's squibs on the queen's trial ( ). cruikshank would sometimes dip his finger in ale and sketch a suggestion on the table. "while living in that state of half-assumed love frenzy at no. , southampton buildings, hazlitt produced some of his best work. his noble lectures on the age of elizabeth had just been delivered, and he was writing for the _edinburgh review_, the _new monthly_, and the london _magazine_, in conjunction with charles lamb, reynolds, barry cornwall, de quincey, and wainwright ('janus weathercock') the poisoner. in he published his volume of 'dramatic criticisms,' and his subtle 'table talk;' in , his foolish 'liber amoris;' and in , his fine 'sketches of the principal english picture galleries.' "hazlitt, who was born in and died in , was the son of a unitarian minister of irish descent. hazlitt was at first intended for an artist, but, coming to london, soon drifted into literature. he became a parliamentary reporter to the _morning chronicle_ in , and in that wearing occupation injured his naturally weak digestion. in he succeeded mudford as theatrical critic on perry's paper. in he joined the _champion_, and in wrote for the _yellow dwarf_. hazlitt's habits at no. were enough to have killed a rhinoceros. he sat up half the night, and rose about one or two. he then remained drinking the strongest black tea, nibbling a roll, and reading (no appetite, of course) till about five p.m. at supper at the 'southampton,' his jaded stomach then rousing, he ate a heavy meal of steak or game, frequently drinking during his long and suicidal vigils three or four quarts of water. wine and spirits he latterly never touched. morbidly self-conscious, touchy, morose, he believed that his aspect and manner were strange and disagreeable to his friends, and that every one was perpetually insulting him. he had a magnificent forehead, regular features, pale as marble, and a profusion of curly black hair, but his eyes were shy and suspicious. his manner when not at his ease mr. p.g. patmore describes as worthy of apemantus himself. he would enter a room as if he had been brought in in custody. he shuffled sidelong to the nearest chair, sat down on the extreme corner of it, dropped his hat on the floor, buried his chin in his stock, vented his usual pet phrase on such occasions, 'it's a fine day,' and resigned himself moodily to social misery. if the talk did not suit him, he bore it a certain time, silent, self-absorbed, as a man condemned to death, then suddenly, with a brusque 'well, good morning,' shuffled to the door and blundered his way out, audibly cursing himself for his folly in voluntarily making himself the laughing-stock of an idiot's critical servants. it must have been hard to bear with such a man, whatever might be his talent; and yet his dying words were, 'i've led a happy life.'" that delightful humorist, lamb, lived in southampton buildings, in , coming from pentonville, and moving to mitre court buildings, fleet street. here, then, must have taken place some of those enjoyable evenings which have been so pleasantly sketched by hazlitt, one of the most favoured of lamb's guests:-- "at lamb's we used to have lively skirmishes, at the thursday evening parties. i doubt whether the small-coal man's musical parties could exceed them. oh, for the pen of john buncle to consecrate a _petit souvenir_ to their memory! there was lamb himself, the most delightful, the most provoking, the most witty, and the most sensible of men. he always made the best pun and the best remark in the course of the evening. his serious conversation, like his serious writing, is the best. no one ever stammered out such fine, piquant, deep, eloquent things, in half-a-dozen sentences, as he does. his jests scald like tears, and he probes a question with a play upon words. what a keen-laughing, hair-brained vein of home-felt truth! what choice venom! how often did we cut into the haunch of letters! how we skimmed the cream of criticism! how we picked out the marrow of authors! need i go over the names? they were but the old, everlasting set--milton and shakespeare, pope and dryden, steele and addison, swift and gay, fielding, smollet, sterne, richardson, hogarth's prints, claude's landscapes, the cartoons at hampton court, and all those things that, having once been, must ever be. the scotch novels had not then been heard of, so we said nothing about them. in general we were hard upon the moderns. the author of the _rambler_ was only tolerated in boswell's life of him; and it was as much as anyone could do to edge in a word for junius. lamb could not bear 'gil blas;' this was a fault. i remember the greatest triumph i ever had was in persuading him, after some years' difficulty, that fielding was better than smollett. on one occasion he was for making out a list of persons famous in history that one would wish to see again, at the head of whom were pontius pilate, sir thomas browne, and dr. faustus; but we black-balled most of his list. but with what a gusto he would describe his favourite authors, donne or sir philip sidney, and call their most crabbed passages _delicious_. he tried them on his palate, as epicures taste olives, and his observations had a smack in them like a roughness on the tongue. with what discrimination he hinted a defect in what he admired most, as in saying the display of the sumptuous banquet in 'paradise regained' was not in true keeping, as the simplest fare was all that was necessary to tempt the extremity of hunger, and stating that adam and eve, in 'paradise lost,' were too much like married people. he has furnished many a text for coleridge to preach upon. there was no fuss or cant about him; nor were his sweets or sours ever diluted with one particle of affectation." towards the unhappy close of sheridan's life, when weighed down by illness and debt (he had just lost the election at stafford, and felt clouds and darkness gathering closer round him), he was thrown for several days (about ) into a sponging-house in tooke's court, cursitor street, chancery lane. tom moore describes meeting him shortly before with lord byron, at the table of rogers, and some days after sheridan burst into tears on hearing that byron had said that he (sheridan) had written the best comedy, the best operetta, the best farce, the best address, and delivered the best oration ever produced in england. sheridan's books and pictures had been sold; and from his sordid prison he wrote a piteous letter to his kind but severely business-like friend, whitbread, the brewer. "i have done everything," he says, "to obtain my release, but in vain; and, whitbread, putting all false professions of friendship and feeling out of the question, you have no right to keep me here, for it is in truth your act; if you had not forcibly withheld from me the £ , , in consequence of a letter from a miserable swindler, whose claim you in particular know to be a lie, i should at least have been out of the reach of this miserable insult; for that, and that only, lost me my seat in parliament." even in the depths of this den, however, sheridan still remained sanguine; and when whitbread came to release him, he found him confidently calculating on the representation of westminster, then about to become vacant by the unjust disgrace of lord cochrane. on his return home to his wife, fortified perhaps by wine, sheridan burst into a long and passionate fit of weeping, at the profanation, as he termed it, which his person had suffered. in lord eldon's youth, when he was simply plain john scott, of the northern circuit, he lived with the pretty little wife with whom he had run away, in very frugal and humble lodgings in cursitor street, just opposite no. , the chained and barred door of sloman's sponging-house (now the imperial club). here, in after life he used to boast, although his struggles had really been very few, that he used to run out into clare market for sixpennyworth of sprats. mr. disraeli, in "henrietta temple," an early novel written in the theodore hook manner, has sketched sloman's with a remarkable _verve_ and intimate knowledge of the place:-- "in pursuance of this suggestion, captain armine was ushered into the best drawing-room with barred windows and treated in the most aristocratic manner. it was evidently the chamber reserved only for unfortunate gentlemen of the utmost distinction; it was simply furnished with a mirror, a loo-table, and a very hard sofa. the walls were hung with old-fashioned caricatures by bunbury; the fire-irons were of polished brass; over the mantelpiece was the portrait of the master of the house, which was evidently a speaking likeness, and in which captain armine fancied he traced no slight resemblance to his friend mr. levison; and there were also some sources of literary amusement in the room, in the shape of a hebrew bible and the racing calendar. "after walking up and down the room for an hour, meditating over the past--for it seemed hopeless to trouble himself any further with the future--ferdinand began to feel very faint, for it may be recollected that he had not even breakfasted. so, pulling the bell-rope with such force that it fell to the ground, a funny little waiter immediately appeared, awed by the sovereign ring, and having indeed received private intelligence from the bailiff that the gentleman in the drawing-room was a regular nob. "and here, perhaps, i should remind the reader that of all the great distinctions in life none, perhaps, is more important than that which divides mankind into the two great sections of _nobs_ and _snobs_. it might seem at the first glance that if there were a place in the world which should level all distinctions, it would be a debtors' prison; but this would be quite an error. almost at the very moment that captain armine arrived at his sorrowful hotel, a poor devil of a tradesman, who had been arrested for fifty pounds and torn from his wife and family, had been forced to retire to the same asylum. he was introduced into what is styled the coffee-room, being a long, low, unfurnished, sanded chamber, with a table and benches; and being very anxious to communicate with some friend, in order, if possible, to effect his release, and prevent himself from being a bankrupt, he had continued meekly to ring at intervals for the last half-hour, in order that he might write and forward his letter. the waiter heard the coffee-room bell ring, but never dreamed of noticing it; though the moment the signal of the private room sounded, and sounded with so much emphasis, he rushed upstairs three steps at a time, and instantly appeared before our hero; and all this difference was occasioned by the simple circumstance that captain armine was a _nob_, and the poor tradesman a _snob_. "'i am hungry,' said ferdinand. 'can i get anything to eat at this place?' "'what would you like, sir? anything you choose, sir--mutton chop, rump steak, weal cutlet? do you a fowl in a quarter of an hour--roast or boiled, sir?' "'i have not breakfasted yet; bring me some breakfast.' "'yes, sir,' said the waiter. 'tea, sir? coffee, eggs, toast, buttered toast, sir? like any meat, sir? ham, sir? tongue, sir? like a devil, sir?' "'anything--everything; only be quick.' "'yes, sir,' responded the waiter. 'beg pardon, sir. no offence, i hope; but custom to pay here, sir. shall be happy to accommodate you, sir. know what a gentleman is.' "'thank you, i will not trouble you,' said ferdinand. 'get me that note changed.' "'yes, sir,' replied the little waiter, bowing very low, as he disappeared. "'gentleman in best drawing-room wants breakfast. gentleman in best drawing-room wants change for a ten-pound note. breakfast immediately for gentleman in best drawing-room. tea, coffee, toast, ham, tongue, and a devil. a regular nob!'" [illustration: clifford's inn (_see page _).] sloman's has been sketched both by mr. disraeli and mr. thackeray. in "vanity fair" we find it described as the temporary abode of the impecunious colonel crawley, and moss describes his uncomfortable past and present guests in a manner worthy of fielding himself. there is the "honourable capting famish, of the fiftieth dragoons, whose 'mar' had just taken him out after a fortnight, jest to punish him, who punished the champagne, and had a party every night of regular tip-top swells down from the clubs at the west end; and capting ragg and the honourable deuceace, who lived, when at home, in the temple. there's a doctor of divinity upstairs, and five gents in the coffee-room who know a good glass of wine when they see it. there is a tably d'hote at half-past five in the front parlour, and cards and music afterwards." moss's house of durance the great novelist describes as splendid with dirty huge old gilt cornices, dingy yellow satin hangings, while the barred-up windows contrasted with "vast and oddly-gilt picture-frames surrounding pieces sporting and sacred, all of which works were by the greatest masters, and fetched the greatest prices, too, in the bill transactions, in the course of which they were sold and bought over and over again. a quick-eyed jew boy locks and unlocks the door for visitors, and a dark-eyed maid in curling-papers brings in the tea." [illustration: execution of tomkins and challoner (_see page _).] the law institute, that grecian temple that has wedged itself into the south-west end of chancery lane, was built in the stormy year of . on the lord mayor's day that year there was a riot; the reform bill was still pending, and it was feared might not pass, for the lords were foaming at the mouth. the iron duke was detested as an opposer of all change, good or bad; the new police were distasteful to the people; above all, there was no lord mayor's show, and no man in brass armour to look at. the rioters assembled outside no. , fleet street, were there harangued by some dirty-faced demagogue, and then marched westward. at temple bar the zealous new "peelers" slammed the old muddy gates, to stop the threatening mob; but the city marshal, red in the face at this breach of city privilege, re-opened them, and the mob roared approval from a thousand distorted mouths. the more pugnacious reformers now broke the scaffolding at the law institute into dangerous cudgels, and some of the unwashed patriots dashed through the bar towards somerset house, full of vague notions of riot, and perhaps (delicious thought!) plunder. but at st. mary's, commissioner mayne and his men in the blue tail-coats received the roughs in battle array, and at the first charge the coward mob broke and fled. in , no. , chancery lane, not far from the north-east corner, was the scene of an event which terminated in the legal murder of a young and innocent girl. it was here, at olibar turner's, a law stationer's, that eliza fenning lived, whom we have already mentioned when we entered hone's shop, in fleet street. this poor girl, on the eve of a happy marriage, was hanged at newgate, on the th of july, , for attempting to poison her master and mistress. the trial took place at the old bailey on april th of the same year, and mr. gurney conducted the prosecution before that rough, violent, unfeeling man, sir john sylvester (_alias_ black jack), recorder of london, who, it is said, used to call the calendar "a bill of fare." the arsenic for rats, kept in a drawer by mr. turner, had been mixed with the dough of some yeast dumplings, of which all the family, including the poor servant, freely partook. there was no evidence of malice, no suspicion of any ill-will, except that mrs. turner had once scolded the girl for being free with one of the clerks. it was, moreover, remembered that the girl had particularly pressed her mistress to let her make some yeast dumplings on the day in question. the defence was shamefully conducted. no one pressed the fact of the girl having left the dough in the kitchen for some time untended; nor was weight laid on the fact of eliza fenning's own danger and sufferings. all the poor, half-paralysed, irish girl could say was, "i am truly innocent of the whole charge--indeed i am. i liked my place. i was very comfortable." and there was pathos in those simple, stammering words, more than in half the self-conscious diffuseness of tragic poetry. in her white bridal dress (the cap she had joyfully worked for herself) she went to her cruel death, still repeating the words, "i am innocent." the funeral, at st. george the martyr, was attended by , people. curran used to declaim eloquently on her unhappy fate, and mr. charles phillips wrote a glowing rhapsody on this victim of legal dulness. but such mistakes not even justice herself can correct. a city mourned over her early grave; but the life was taken, and there was no redress. gadsden, the clerk, whom she had warned not to eat any dumpling, as it was heavy (this was thought suspicious), afterwards became a wealthy solicitor in bedford row. chapter viii. fleet street (northern tributaries--_continued_). clifford's inn--dyer's chambers--the settlement after the great fire--peter wilkins and his flying wives--fetter lane--waller's plot and its victims--praise-god barebone and his doings--charles lamb at school--hobbes the philosopher--a strange marriage--mrs. brownrigge--paul whitehead--the moravians--the record office and its treasures--rival poets. clifford's inn, originally a town house of the lords clifford, ancestors of the earls of cumberland, given to them by edward ii., was first let to the students of law in the eighteenth year of king edward iii., at a time when might was too often right, and hard knocks decided legal questions oftener than deed or statute. harrison the regicide was in youth clerk to an attorney in clifford's inn, but when the civil war broke out he rode off and joined the puritan troopers. clifford's inn is the oldest inn in chancery. there was formerly, we learn from mr. jay, an office there, out of which were issued writs, called "bills of middlesex," the appointment of which office was in the gift of the senior judge of the queen's bench. "but what made this inn once noted was that all the six attorneys of the marshalsea court (better known as the palace court) had their chambers there, as also had the satellites, who paid so much per year for using their names and looking at the nature of their practice. i should say that more misery emanated from this small spot than from any one of the most populous counties in england. the causes in this court were obliged to be tried in the city of westminster, near the palace, and it was a melancholy sight (except to lawyers) to observe in the court the crowd of every description of persons suing one another. the most remarkable man in the court was the extremely fat prothonotary, mr. hewlett, who sat under the judge or the judge's deputy, with a wig on his head like a thrush's nest, and with only one book before him, which was one of the volumes of 'burns' justice.' i knew a respectable gentleman (mr. g. dyer) who resided here in chambers (where he died) over a firm of marshalsea attorneys. this gentleman, who wrote a history of cambridge university and a biography of robinson of cambridge, had been a bluecoat boy, went as a grecian to cambridge, and, after the university, visited almost every celebrated library in europe. it often struck me what a mighty difference there was between what was going on in the one set of chambers and the other underneath. at mr. dyer's i have seen sir walter scott, southey, coleridge, lamb, talfourd, and many other celebrated literati, 'all benefiting by hearing, which was but of little advantage to the owner.' in the lawyers' chambers below were people wrangling, swearing, and shouting, and some, too, even fighting, the only relief to which was the eternal stamping of cognovits, bound in a book as large as a family bible." the lord chief justice of the common pleas and lord chelmsford both at one time practised in the county court, purchased their situations for large sums, and afterwards sold them. "it was not a bad nursery for a young barrister, as he had an opportunity of addressing a jury. there were only four counsel who had a right to practise in this court, and if you took a first-rate advocate in there specially, you were obliged to give briefs to two of the privileged four. on the tombstone of one of the compensated marshalsea attorneys is cut the bitterly ironical epitaph, "blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of god."" coke, that great luminary of english jurisprudence, resided at clifford's inn for a year, and then entered himself at the inner temple. coke, it will be remembered, conducted the prosecution of both essex and raleigh; in both cases he was grossly unfeeling to fallen great men. the george dyer mentioned by mr. jay was not the author of "the fleece," but that eccentric and amiable old scholar sketched by charles lamb in "the essays of elia." dyer was a poet and an antiquary, and edited nearly all the volumes of the delphin classics for valpy. alternately writer, baptist minister, and reporter, he eventually settled down in the monastic solitude of clifford's inn to compose verses, annotate greek plays, and write for the magazines. how the worthy, simple-hearted bookworm once walked straight from lamb's parlour in colebrooke row into the new river, and was then fished out and restored with brandy-and-water, lamb was never tired of telling. at the latter part of his life poor old dyer became totally blind. he died in . the hall of clifford's inn is memorable as being the place where sir matthew hale and seventeen other wise and patient judges sat, after the great fire of , to adjudicate upon the claims of the landlords and tenants of burned houses, and prevent future lawsuits. the difficulty of discovering the old boundaries, under the mountains of ashes, must have been great; and forty thick folio volumes of decisions, now preserved in the british museum, tell of many a legal headache in clifford's inn. a very singular custom, and probably of great antiquity, prevails after the dinners at clifford's inn. the society is divided into two sections--the principal and aules, and the junior or "kentish men." when the meal is over, the chairman of the kentish men, standing up at the junior table, bows gravely to the principal, takes from the hand of a servitor standing by four small rolls of bread, silently dashes them three times on the table, and then pushes them down to the further end of the board, from whence they are removed. perfect silence is preserved during this mystic ceremony, which some antiquary who sees deeper into millstones than his brethren thinks typifies offerings to ceres, who first taught mankind the use of laws and originated those peculiar ornaments of civilisation, their expounders, the lawyers. in the hall is preserved an old oak folding case, containing the forty-seven rules of the institution, now almost defaced, and probably of the reign of henry viii. the hall casement contains armorial glass with the bearings of baptist hicks, viscount camden, &c. robert pultock, the almost unknown author of that graceful story, "peter wilkins," from whose flying women southey drew his poetical notion of the glendoveer, or flying spirit, in his wild poem of "the curse of kehama," lived in this inn, paced on its terrace, and mused in its garden. "'peter wilkins' is to my mind," says coleridge (in his "table talk"), "a work of uncommon beauty, and yet stothard's illustrations have _added_ beauties to it. if it were not for a certain tendency to affectation, scarcely any praise could be too high for stothard's designs. they give me great pleasure. i believe that 'robinson crusoe' and 'peter wilkins' could only have been written by islanders. no continentalist could have conceived either tale. davis's story is an imitation of 'peter wilkins,' but there are many beautiful things in it, especially his finding his wife crouching by the fireside, she having, in his absence, plucked out all her feathers, to be like him! it would require a very peculiar genius to add another tale, _ejusdem generis_, to 'peter wilkins' and 'robinson crusoe.' i once projected such a thing, but the difficulty of a pre-occupied ground stopped me. perhaps la motte fouqué might effect something; but i should fear that neither he nor any other german could entirely understand what may be called the '_desert island_' feeling. i would try the marvellous line of 'peter wilkins,' if i attempted it, rather than the _real_ fiction of 'robinson crusoe.'" the name of the author of "peter wilkins" was discovered only a few years ago. in the year mr. nicol, the printer, sold by auction a number of books and manuscripts in his possession, which had formerly belonged to the well-known publisher, dodsley; and in arranging them for sale, the original agreement for the sale of the manuscript of "peter wilkins," by the author, "robert pultock, of clifford's inn," to dodsley, was discovered. from this document it appears that mr. pultock received twenty pounds, twelve copies of the work, and "the cuts of the first impression"--_i.e._, a set of proof impressions of the fanciful engravings that professed to illustrate the first edition of the work--as the price of the entire copyright. this curious document had been sold afterwards to john wilkes, esq., m.p. inns of chancery, like clifford's inn, were originally law schools, to prepare students for the larger inns of court. fetter lane did not derive its name from the manufacture of newgate fetters. stow, who died early in the reign of james i., calls it "fewtor lane," from the norman-french word "fewtor" (idle person, loafer), perhaps analogous to the even less complimentary modern french word "foutre" (blackguard). mr. jesse, however, derives the word "fetter" from the norman "defaytor" (defaulter), as if the lane had once been a sanctuary for skulking debtors. in either case the derivation is somewhat ignoble, but the inhabitants have long since lived it down. stow says it was once a mere byway leading to gardens (_quantum mutatus!_) if men of the bobadil and pistol character ever did look over the garden-gates and puff their trinidado in the faces of respectable passers-by, the lane at least regained its character later, when poets and philosophers condescended to live in it, and persons of considerable consequence rustled their silks and trailed their velvet along its narrow roadway. during the middle ages fetter lane slumbered, but it woke up on the breaking out of the civil war, and in became unpleasantly celebrated as the spot where waller's plot disastrously terminated. in the second year of the war between king and parliament, the royal successes at bath, bristol, and cornwall, as well as the partial victory at edgehill, had roused the moderate party and chilled many lukewarm adherents of the puritans. the distrust of pym and his friends soon broke out into a reactionary plot, or, more probably, two plots, in one or both of which waller, the poet, was dangerously mixed up. the chief conspirators were tomkins and challoner, the former waller's brother-in-law, a gentleman living in holborn, near the end of fetter lane, and a secretary to the commissioners of the royal revenues; the latter an eminent citizen, well known on 'change. many noblemen and cavalier officers and gentlemen had also a whispering knowledge of the ticklish affair. the projects of these men, or of some of the more desperate, at least, were--( ) to secure the king's children; ( ) to seize mr. pym, colonel hampden, and other members of parliament specially hostile to the king; ( ) to arrest the puritan lord mayor, and all the sour-faced committee of the city militia; ( ) to capture the outworks, forts, magazines, and gates of the tower and city, and to admit , cavaliers sent from oxford by a pre-arranged plan; ( ) to resist all payments imposed by parliament for support of the armies of the earl of essex. unfortunately, just as the white ribbons were preparing to tie round the arms of the conspirators, to mark them on the night of action, a treacherous servant of mr. tomkins, of holborn, overheard waller's plans from behind a convenient arras, and disclosed them to the angry parliament. in a cellar at tomkins's the soldiers who rummaged it found a commission sent from the king by lady aubigny, whose husband had been recently killed at edgehill. tomkins and challoner were hung at the holborn end of fetter lane. on the ladder, tomkins said:--"gentlemen, i humbly acknowledge, in the sight of almighty god (to whom, and to angels, and to this great assembly of people, i am now a spectacle), that my sins have deserved of him this untimely and shameful death; and, touching the business for which i suffer, i acknowledge that affection to a brother-in-law, and affection and gratitude to the king, whose bread i have eaten now about twenty-two years (i have been servant to him when he was prince, and ever since: it will be twenty-three years in august next)--i confess these two motives drew me into this foolish business. i have often since declared to good friends that i was glad it was discovered, because it might have occasioned very ill consequences; and truly i have repented having any hand in it." challoner was equally fatal against waller, and said, when at the same giddy altitude as tomkins, "gentlemen, this is the happiest day that ever i had. i shall now, gentlemen, declare a little more of the occasion of this, as i am desired by mr. peters [the famous puritan divine, hugh peters] to give him and the world satisfaction in it. it came from mr. waller, under this notion, that if we could make a moderate party here in london, and stand betwixt and in the gap to unite the king and the parliament, it would be a very acceptable work, for now the three kingdoms lay a-bleeding; and unless that were done, there was no hopes to unite them," &c. waller had a very narrow escape, but he extricated himself with the most subtle skill, perhaps secretly aided by his kinsman, cromwell. he talked of his "carnal eye," of his repentance, of the danger of letting the army try a member of the house. as lord clarendon says: "with incredible dissimulation he acted such a remorse of conscience, that his trial was put off, out of christian compassion, till he could recover his understanding." in the meantime, he bribed the puritan preachers, and listened with humble deference to their prayers for his repentance. he bent abjectly before the house; and eventually, with a year's imprisonment and a fine of £ , , obtained leave to retire to france. having spent all his money in paris, waller at last obtained permission from cromwell to return to england. "there cannot," says clarendon, "be a greater evidence of the inestimable value of his (waller's) parts, than that he lived after this in the good esteem and affection of many, the pity of most, and the reproach and scorn of few or none." the body of the unlucky tomkins was buried in the churchyard of st. andrew's, holborn. according to peter cunningham, that shining light of the puritan party in the early days of cromwell, "praise-god barebone," was a leather-seller in fetter lane, having a house, either at the same time or later, called the "lock and key," near crane court, at which place his son, a great speculator and builder, afterwards resided. barebone (probably barbon, of a french huguenot family) was one of those gloomy religionists who looked on surplices, plum-porridge, theatres, dances, christmas pudding, and homicide as equally detestable, and did his best to shut out all sunshine from that long, rainy, stormy day that is called life. he was at the head of that fanatical, tender-conscienced parliament of that cromwell convened from among the elect in london, after untoward sir harry vane had been expelled from westminster at the muzzles of pride's muskets. of barebone, also, and his crochetty, impracticable fellows, cromwell had soon enough; and, in despair of all aid but from his own brain and hand, he then took the title of lord protector, and became the most inflexible and wisest monarch we have ever had, or indeed ever hope to have. barebone is first heard of in local history as preaching in , together with mr. greene, a felt-maker, at a conventicle in fetter lane, a place always renowned for its heterodoxy. the thoughtless cavaliers, who did not like long sermons, and thought all religion but their own hypocrisy, delighted in gaunt barebone's appropriate name, and made fun of him in those ribald ballads in which they consigned red-nosed noll, the brewer, to the reddest and hottest portion of the unknown world. at the restoration, when all fleet street was ablaze with bonfires to roast the rumps, the street boys, always on the strongest side, broke poor barebone's windows, though he had been constable and common-councilman, and was a wealthy leather-seller to boot. but he was not looked upon as of the regicide or extreme dangerous party, and a year afterwards attended a vestry-meeting unmolested. after the great fire he came to the clifford's inn appeal court about his fleet street house, which had been burnt over the heads of his tenants, and eventually he rebuilt it. in irving's "history of dissenters" there is a curious account, from an old pamphlet entitled "new preachers," "of barebone, greene the felt-maker, spencer the horse-rubber, quartermaine the brewer's clerk, and some few others, who are mighty sticklers in this new kind of talking trade, which many ignorant coxcombs call preaching; whereunto is added the last tumult in fleet street, raised by the disorderly preachment, pratings, and prattlings of mr. barebone the leather-seller, and mr. greene the felt-maker, on sunday last, the th december." the tumult alluded to is thus described: "a brief touch in memory of the fiery zeal of mr. barebone, a reverend unlearned leather-seller, who with mr. greene the felt-maker were both taken preaching or prating in a conventicle amongst a hundred persons, on sunday, the th of december last, ." one of the pleasantest memories of fetter lane is that which connects it with the school-days of that delightful essay-writer, charles lamb. he himself, in one of hone's chatty books, has described the school, and bird, its master, in his own charming way. [illustration: roasting the rumps in fleet street (from an old print) (_see page _).] both lamb and his sister, says mr. fitzgerald, in his memoir of lamb, went to a school where starkey had been usher about a year before they came to it--a room that looked into "a discoloured, dingy garden, in the passage leading from fetter lane into bartlett's buildings. this was close to holborn. queen street, where lamb lived when a boy, was in holborn." bird is described as an "eminent writer" who taught mathematics, which was no more than "cyphering." "heaven knows what languages were taught there. i am sure that neither my sister nor myself brought any out of it but a little of our native english. it was, in fact, a humble day-school." bird and cook, he says, were the masters. bird had "that peculiar mild tone--especially when he was inflicting punishment--which is so much more terrible to children than the angriest looks and gestures. whippings were not frequent; but when they took place, the correction was performed in a private room adjoining, whence we could only hear the plaints, but saw nothing. this heightened the decorum and solemnity." he then describes the ferule--"that almost obsolete weapon now." "to make him look more formidable--if a pedagogue had need of these heightenings--bird wore one of those flowered indian gowns formerly in use with schoolmasters, the strange figures upon which we used to interpret into hieroglyphics of pain and suffering." this is in lamb's most delightful vein. so, too, with other incidents of the school, especially "our little leaden inkstands, not separately subsisting, but sunk into the desks; and the agonising benches on which we were all cramped together, and yet encouraged to attain a free hand, unattainable in this position." lamb recollected even his first copy--"art improves nature," and could look back with "pardonable pride to his carrying off the first premium for spelling. long after, certainly thirty years, the school was still going on, only there was a latin inscription over the entrance in the lane, unknown in our humbler days." in the evening was a short attendance of girls, to which miss lamb went, and she recollected the theatricals, and even _cato_ being performed by the young gentlemen. "she describes the cast of the characters with relish. 'martha,' by the handsome edgar hickman, who afterwards went to africa." [illustration: interior of the moravian chapel in fetter lane (_see page _).] the starkey mentioned by lamb was a poor, crippled dwarf, generally known at newcastle in his old age as "captain starkey," the butt of the street-boys and the pensioner of benevolent citizens. in , when he had been an inmate of the freemen's hospital, newcastle, for twenty-six years, the poor old ex-usher of the fetter lane school wrote "the memoirs of his life," a humble little pamphlet of only fourteen pages, upon which hone good-naturedly wrote an article which educed lamb's pleasant postscript. starkey, it appears, had been usher, not in lamb's own time, but in that of mary lamb's, who came after her brother had left. she describes starkey running away on one occasion, being brought back by his father, and sitting the remainder of the day with his head buried in his hands, even the most mischievous boys respecting his utter desolation. that clever but mischievous advocate of divine right and absolute power, hobbes of malmesbury, was lodging in fetter lane when he published his "leviathan." he was not there, however, in , at the restoration, since we are told that on that _glorious_ occasion he was standing at the door of salisbury house, the mansion of his kind and generous patron, the earl of devonshire; and that the king, formerly hobbes's pupil in mathematics, nodded to his old tutor. a short duodecimo sketch of hobbes may not be uninteresting. this sceptical philosopher, hardened into dogmatic selfishness by exile, was the son of a wiltshire clergyman, and he first saw the light the year of the armada, his mother being prematurely confined during the first panic of the spanish invasion. hobbes, with that same want of self-respect and love of independence that actuated gay and thomson, remained his whole life a tolerated pensioner of his former pupil, the earl of devonshire; bearing, no doubt, in his time many rebuffs; for pride will be proud, and rich men require wisdom, when in their pay, to remember its place. hobbes in his time was a friend of, and, it is said, a translator for, lord bacon; and ben jonson, that ripe scholar, revised his sound translation of "thucydides." he sat at the feet of galileo and by the side of gassendi and descartes. while in fetter lane he associated with harvey, selden, and cowley. he talked and wrangled with the wise men of half europe. he had sat at richelieu's table and been loaded with honours by cosmo de medici. the laurels hobbes won in the schools he lost on parnassus. his translation of homer is tasteless and contemptible. in mathematics, too, he was dismounted by wallis and others. personally he had weaknesses. he was afraid of apparitions, he dreaded assassination, and had a fear that burnet and the bishops would burn him as a heretic. his philosophy, though useful, as mr. mill says, in expanding free thought and exciting inquiry, was based on selfishness. nothing can be falser and more detestable than the maxims of this sage of the restoration and of reaction. he holds the natural condition of man to be a state of war--a war of all men against all men; might making right, and the conqueror trampling down all the rest. the civil laws, he declares, are the only standards of good or evil. the sovereign, he asserts, possesses absolute power, and is not bound by any compact with the people (who pay him as their head servant). nothing he does can be wrong. the sovereign has the right of interpreting scripture; and he thinks that christians are bound to obey the laws of an infidel king, even in matters of religion. he sneers at the belief in a future state, and hints at materialism. these monstrous doctrines, which even charles ii. would not fully sanction, were naturally battered and bombarded by harrington, dr. henry more, and others. hobbes was also vehemently attacked by that disagreeable dr. fell, the subject of the well-known epigram,-- "i do not like thee, dr. fell; the reason why i cannot tell; but this i know, and know full well, i do not like thee, dr. fell," who rudely called hobbes "_irritabile illud et vanissimum malmsburiense animal_." the philosopher of fetter lane, who was short-sighted enough to deride the early efforts of the royal society, though they were founded on the strict inductive baconian theory, seems to have been a vain man, loving paradox rather than truth, and desirous of founding, at all risks, a new school of philosophy. the civil war had warped him; solitary thinking had turned him into a cynical dogmatiser. he was timid as erasmus; and once confessed that if he was cast into a deep pit, and the devil should put down his hot cloven foot, he would take hold of it to draw himself out. this was not the metal that such men as luther and latimer were made of; but it served for the aristotle of rochester and buckingham. a wit of the day proposed as hobbes's epitaph the simple words, "the philosopher's stone." hobbes's professed rule of health was to dedicate the morning to his exercise and the afternoon to his studies. at his first rising, therefore, he walked out and climbed any hill within his reach; or, if the weather was not dry, he fatigued himself within doors by some exercise or other, in order to perspire, recommending that practice upon this opinion, that an old man had more moisture than heat, and therefore by such motion heat was to be acquired and moisture expelled. after this he took a comfortable breakfast, then went round the lodgings to wait upon the earl, the countess, the children, and any considerable strangers, paying some short addresses to all of them. he kept these rounds till about twelve o'clock, when he had a little dinner provided for him, which he ate always by himself, without ceremony. soon after dinner he retired to his study, and had his candle, with ten or twelve pipes of tobacco, laid by him; then, shutting his door, he fell to smoking, thinking, and writing for several hours. at a small coal-shed (just one of those black bins still to be seen at the south-west end) in fetter lane, dr. johnson's friend, levett, the poor apothecary, met a woman of bad character, who duped him into marriage. the whole story, dr. johnson used to say, was as marvellous as any page of "the arabian nights." lord macaulay, in his highly-coloured and somewhat exaggerated way, calls levett "an old quack doctor, who bled and dosed coal-heavers and hackney-coachmen, and received for fees crusts of bread, bits of bacon, glasses of gin, and a little copper." levett, however, was neither a quack nor a doctor, but an honest man and an apothecary, and the list of his patients is entirely hypothetical. this simple-hearted, benevolent man was persuaded by the proprietress of the coal-shed that she had been defrauded of her birthright by her kinsman, a man of fortune. levett, then nearly sixty, married her; and four months after, a writ was issued against him for debts contracted by his wife, and he had to lie close to avoid the gaol. not long afterwards his amiable wife ran away from him, and, being taken up for picking pockets, was tried at the old bailey, where she defended herself, and was acquitted. dr. johnson then, touched by levett's misfortunes and goodness, took him to his own home at bolt court. it was in a house on the east side of this lane, looking into fleur-de-lys court, that (in ) elizabeth brownrigge, midwife to the st. dunstan's workhouse and wife of a house-painter, cruelly ill-used her two female apprentices. mary jones, one of these unfortunate children, after being often beaten, ran back to the foundling, from whence she had been taken. on the remaining one, mary mitchell, the wrath of the avaricious hag now fell with redoubled severity. the poor creature was perpetually being stripped and beaten, was frequently chained up at night nearly naked, was scratched, and her tongue cut with scissors. it was the constant practice of mrs. brownrigge to fasten the girl's hands to a rope slung from a beam in the kitchen, after which this old wretch beat her four or five times in the same day with a broom or a whip. the moanings and groans of the dying child, whose wounds were mortifying from neglect, aroused the pity of a baker opposite, who sent the overseers of the parish to see the child, who was found hid in a buffet cupboard. she was taken to st. bartholomew's hospital, and soon died. brownrigge was at once arrested; but mrs. brownrigge and her son, disguising themselves in rag fair, fled to wandsworth, and there took lodgings in a chandler's shop, where they were arrested. the woman was tried at the old bailey sessions, and found guilty of murder. mr. silas told, an excellent methodist preacher, who attended her in the condemned cell, has left a curious, simple-hearted account of her behaviour and of what he considered her repentance. she _talked_ a great deal of religion, and stood much on the goodness of her past life. the mob raged terribly as she passed through the streets on her way to tyburn. the women especially screamed, "tear off her hat; let us see her face! the devil will fetch her!" and threw stones and mud, pitiless in their hatred. after execution her corpse was thrust into a hackney-coach and driven to surgeons' hall for dissection; the skeleton is still preserved in a london collection. the cruel hag's husband and son were sentenced to six months' imprisonment. a curious old drawing is still extant, representing mrs. brownrigge in the condemned cell. she wears a large, broad-brimmed gipsy hat, tied under her chin, and a cape; and her long, hard face wears a horrible smirk of resigned hypocrisy. canning, in one of his bitter banters on southey's republican odes, writes,-- "for this act did brownrigge swing. harsh laws! but time shall come when france shall reign, and laws be all repealed." in castle street (an offshoot of fetter lane), in - (queen anne), at the house of his father, a master tailor, was born a very small poet, paul whitehead. this poor satirist and worthless man became a jacobite barrister and protégé of bubb doddington and the prince of wales and his leicester fields court. for libelling whig noblemen, in his poem called "manners," dodsley, whitehead's publisher, was summoned by the ministers, who wished to intimidate pope, before the house of lords. he appears to have been an atheist, and was a member of the infamous hell-fire club, that held its obscene and blasphemous orgies at medmenham abbey, in buckinghamshire, the seat of sir francis dashwood, where every member assumed the name of an apostle. later in life whitehead was bought off by the ministry, and then settled down at a villa on twickenham common, where hogarth used to visit him. if whitehead is ever remembered, it will be only for that splash of vitriol that churchill threw in his face, when he wrote of the turncoat,-- "may i--can worse disgrace on manhood fall?-- be born a whitehead and baptised a paul." it was this whitehead, with carey, the surgeon of the prince of wales, who got up a mock procession, in ridicule of the freemasons' annual cavalcade from brooke street to haberdashers' hall. the ribald procession consisted of shoe-blacks and chimney-sweeps, in carts drawn by asses, followed by a mourning-coach with six horses, each of a different colour. the city authorities very properly refused to let them pass through temple bar, but they waited there and saluted the masons. hogarth published a print of "the scald miserables," which is coarse, and even dull. the prince of wales, with more good sense than usual, dismissed carey for this offensive buffoonery. whitehead bequeathed his heart to earl despenser, who buried it in his mausoleum with absurd ceremonial. at pemberton row, formerly three-leg alley, fetter lane, lived that very indifferent poet but admirable miniature-painter of charles ii.'s time, flatman. he was a briefless barrister of the inner temple, and resided with his father till the period of his death. anthony wood tells us that having written a scurrilous ballad against marriage, beginning,-- "like a dog with a bottle tied close to his tail, like a tory in a bog, or a thief in a jail," his comrades serenaded him with the song on his wedding-night. rochester wrote some vigorous lines on flatman, which are not unworthy even of dryden himself,-- "not that slow drudge, in swift pindaric strains, flatman, who cowley imitates with pains, and drives a jaded muse, whipt with loose reins." we find dr. johnson quoting these lines with approval, in a conversation in which he suggested that pope had partly borrowed his "dying christian" from flatman. "the chapel of the united brethren, or moravians, , fetter lane," says smith, in his "streets of london," "was the meeting-house of the celebrated thomas bradbury. during the riots which occurred on the trial of dr. sacheveral, this chapel was assaulted by the mob and dismantled, the preacher himself escaping with some difficulty. the other meeting-houses that suffered on this occasion were those of daniel burgess, in new court, carey street; mr. earl's, in hanover street, long acre; mr. taylor's, leather lane; mr. wright's, great carter lane; and mr. hamilton's, in st. john's square, clerkenwell. with the benches and pulpits of several of these, the mob, after conducting dr. sacheveral in triumph to his lodgings in the temple, made a bonfire in the midst of lincoln's inn fields, around which they danced with shouts of 'high church and sacheveral,' swearing, if they found daniel burgess, that they would roast him in his own pulpit in the midst of the pile." this moravian chapel was one of the original eight conventicles where divine worship was permitted. baxter preached here in , and wesley and whitefield also struck great blows at the devil in this pulpit, where zinzendorf's followers afterwards prayed and sang their fervent hymns. count zinzendorf, the poet, theologian, pastor, missionary, and statesman, who first gave the moravian body a vital organisation, and who preached in fetter lane to the most tolerant class of all protestants, was born in dresden in . his ancestors, originally from austria, had been crusaders and counts of zinzendorf. one of the zinzendorfs had been among the earliest converts to lutheranism, and became a voluntary exile for the faith. the count's father was one of the pietists, a sect protected by the first king of prussia, the father of frederick the great. the founder of the pietists laid special stress on the doctrine of conversion by a sudden transformation of the heart and will. it was a young moravian missionary to georgia who first induced wesley to embrace the vital doctrine of justification by faith. for a long time there was a close kinsmanship maintained between whitefield, the wesleys, and the moravians; but eventually wesley pronounced zinzendorf as verging on antinomianism, while zinzendorf objected to wesley's doctrine of sinless perfection. in zinzendorf gave an asylum to two families of persecuted moravian brothers, and built houses for them on a spot he called hernhut ("watched of the lord"), a marshy tract in saxony, near the main road to zittau. these simple and pious men were taborites, a section of the old hussites, who had renounced obedience to the pope and embraced the vaudois doctrines. this was the first formation of the moravian sect. "on january th, - ," says baxter, "i began a tuesday lecture at mr. turner's church, in new street, near fetter lane, with great convenience and god's encouraging blessing; but i never took a penny for it from any one." the chapel in which baxter officiated in fetter lane is that between nevil's court and new street, once occupied by the moravians. it appears to have existed, though perhaps in a different form, before the great fire of london. turner, who was the first minister, was a very active man during the plague. he was ejected from sunbury, in middlesex, and continued to preach in fetter lane till towards the end of the reign of charles ii., when he removed to leather lane. baxter carried on the tuesday morning lecture till the th of august, . the church which then met in it was under the care of mr. lobb, whose predecessor had been thankful owen, president of st. john's college, oxford. ejected by the commissioners in , he became a preacher in fetter lane. "he was," says calamy, "a man of genteel learning and an excellent temper, admir'd for an uncommon fluency and easiness and sweetness in all his composures. after he was ejected he retired to london, where he preached privately and was much respected. he dy'd at his house in hatton garden, april , . he was preparing for the press, and had almost finished, a book entituled 'imago imaginis,' the design of which was to show that rome papal was an image of rome pagan." at no. , fetter lane is an independent chapel, whose first minister was dr. thomas goodwin, - --troublous times for dissenters. goodwin had been a pastor in holland and a favourite of cromwell. the protector made him one of his commissioners for selecting preachers, and he was also president of magdalen college, oxford. when cromwell became sick unto death, goodwin boldly prophesied his recovery, and when the great man died, in spite of him, he is said to have exclaimed, "thou hast deceived us, and we are deceived;" which is no doubt a cavalier calumny. on the restoration, the oxford men showed goodwin the door, and he retired to the seclusion of fetter lane. he seems to have been a good scholar and an eminent calvinist divine, and he left on puritan shelves five ponderous folio volumes of his works. the present chapel, says mr. noble, dates from , and the pastor is the rev. john spurgeon, the father of the eloquent baptist preacher, the rev. c.h. spurgeon. the disgraceful disorder of the national records had long been a subject of regret among english antiquaries. there was no certainty of finding any required document among such a mass of ill-stored, dusty, unclassified bundles and rolls--many of them never opened since the day king john sullenly signed magna charta. we are a great conservative people, and abuses take a long time ripening before they seem to us fit for removal, so it happened that this evil went on several centuries before it roused the attention of parliament, and then it was talked over and over, till in something was at last done. it was resolved to build a special storehouse for national records, where the various collections might be united under one roof, and there be arranged and classified by learned men. the first stone of a magnificent gothic building was therefore laid by lord romilly on th may, , and slowly and surely, in the anglo-saxon manner, the walls grew till, in the summer of , all the new search offices were formally opened, to the great convenience of all students of records. the architect, sir james pennethorne, has produced a stately building, useful for its purpose, but not very remarkable for picturesque light and shade, and tame, as all imitations of bygone ages, adapted for bygone uses, must ever be. the number of records stored within this building can only be reckoned by "_hundreds of millions_." these are sir thomas duffus hardy's own words. there, in cramped bundles and rolls, dusty as papyri, lie charters and official notices that once made mailed knights tremble and proud priests shake in their sandals. now--the magic gone, the words powerless--they lie in their several binns in strange companionship. many years will elapse before all these records of state and government documents can be classified; but the small staff is industrious, sir thomas hardy is working, and in time the augean stable of crabbed writings will be cleansed and ranged in order. the useful and accurate calendars of everett green, john bruce, &c., are books of reference invaluable to historical students; and the old chronicles published by order of lord romilly, so long master of the rolls and keeper of the records, are most useful mines for the froudes and freemans of the future. in time it is hoped that all the episcopal records of england will be gathered together in this great treasure-house, and that many of our english noblemen will imitate the patriotic generosity of lord shaftesbury, in contributing their family papers to the same gaza in fetter lane. under the concentrated gaze of learned eyes, family papers (valueless and almost unintelligible to their original possessors), often reveal very curious and important facts. mere lumber in the manor-house, fit only for the butterman, sometimes turns to leaves of gold when submitted to such microscopic analysis. it was such a gift that led to the discovery of the locke papers among the records of the nobleman above mentioned. the pleasant rooms of the record office are open to all applicants; nor is any reference or troublesome preliminary form required from those wishing to consult court rolls or state papers over twenty years old. among other priceless treasures the record office contains the original, uninjured, domesday book, compiled by order of william, the conqueror of england. it is written in a beautiful clerkly hand in close fine character, and is in a perfect state of preservation. it is in two volumes, the covers of which are cut with due economy from the same skin of parchment. bound in massive board covers, and kept with religious care under glass cases, the precious volumes seem indeed likely to last to the very break of doom. it is curious to remark that london only occupies some three or four pages. there is also preserved the original papal bull sent to henry viii., with a golden seal attached to it, the work of benvenuto cellini. the same collection contains the celebrated treaty of the field of the cloth of gold, the initial portrait of francis i. being beautifully illuminated and the vellum volume adorned by an exquisite gold seal, in the finest relievo, also by benvenuto cellini. the figures in this seal are so perfect in their finish, that even the knee-cap of one of the nymphs is shaped with the strictest anatomical accuracy. the visitor should also see the interesting inventory books relating to the foundation of henry vii.'s chapel. the national records were formerly bundled up any how in the rolls chapel, the white tower, the chapter house, westminster abbey, carlton ride in st. james's park, the state paper office, and the prerogative will office. no one knew where anything was. they were unnoticed--mere dusty lumber, in fact--useless to men or printers' devils. hot-headed hugh peters, during the commonwealth, had, in his hatred of royalty, proposed to make one great heap of them and burn them up in smithfield. in that way he hoped to clear the ground of many mischievous traditions. this desperate act of communism that tough-headed old lawyer, prynne, opposed tooth and nail. in he wrote a pamphlet, which he called "a short demurrer against cromwell's project of recalling the jews from their banishment," and in this work he very nobly epitomizes the value of these treasures; indeed, there could not be found a more lucid syllabus of the contents of the present record office than prynne has there set forth. [illustration: house said to have been occupied by dryden in fetter lane (_see page _).] dryden and otway were contemporaries, and lived, it is said, for some time opposite to each other in fetter lane. one morning the latter happened to call upon his brother bard about breakfast-time, but was told by the servant that his master was gone to breakfast with the earl of pembroke. "very well," said otway, "tell your master that i will call to-morrow morning." accordingly he called about the same hour. "well, is your master at home now?" "no, sir; he is just gone to breakfast with the duke of buckingham." "the d---- he is," said otway, and, actuated either by envy, pride, or disappointment, in a kind of involuntary manner, he took up a piece of chalk which lay on a table which stood upon the landing-place, near dryden's chamber, and wrote over the door,-- "here lives dryden, a poet and a wit." the next morning, at breakfast, dryden recognised the handwriting, and told the servant to go to otway and desire his company to breakfast with him. in the meantime, to otway's line of "here lives dryden, _a poet and a wit_," he added,-- "this was written by otway, _opposite_." when otway arrived he saw that his line was linked with a rhyme, and being a man of rather petulant disposition, he took it in dudgeon, and, turning upon his heel, told dryden "that he was welcome to keep his wit and his breakfast to himself." [illustration: a meeting of the royal society in crane court (_see p. _).] a curious old book, a _vade mecum_ for malt worms _temp._ george i., thus immortalises the patriotism of a tavern-keeper in fetter lane:-- "though there are some who, with invidious look, have styl'd this bird more like a russian duck than what he stands depicted for on sign, he proves he well has croaked for prey within, from massy tankards, formed of silver plate, that walk throughout this noted house in state, ever since _englesfield_, in _anna's_ reign, to compliment each fortunate campaign, made one be hammered out for ev'ry town was ta'en." chapter ix. fleet street (tributaries--crane court, johnson's court, bolt court). removal of the royal society from gresham college--opposition to newton--objections to removal--the first catalogue--swift's jeer at the society--franklin's lightning conductor and king george iii.--sir hans sloane insulted--the scottish society--wilkes's printer--the delphin classics--johnson's court--johnson's opinion on pope and dryden--his removal to bolt court--the _john bull_--hook and terry--prosecutions for libel--hook's impudence. in the old times, when newspapers could not legally be published without a stamp, "various ingenious devices," says a writer in the _bookseller_ ( ), "were employed to deceive and mislead the officers employed by the government. many of the unstamped papers were printed in crane court, fleet street; and there, on their several days of publication, the officers of the somerset house solicitor would watch, ready to seize them immediately they came from the press. but the printers were quite equal to the emergency. they would make up sham parcels of waste-paper, and send them out with an ostentatious show of secrecy. the officers--simple fellows enough, though they were called 'government spies,' 'somerset house myrmidons,' and other opprobrious names, in the unstamped papers--duly took possession of the parcels, after a decent show of resistance by their bearers, while the real newspapers intended for sale to the public were sent flying by thousands down a shoot in fleur-de-lys court, and thence distributed in the course of the next hour or two all over the town." the royal society came to crane court from gresham college in , and removed in to somerset house. this society, according to dr. wallis, one of the earliest members, originated in london in , when dr. wilkins and certain philosophical friends met weekly to discuss scientific questions. they afterwards met at oxford, and in gresham college, till that place was turned into a puritan barracks. after the restoration, in , the king, wishing to turn men's minds to philosophy--or, indeed, anywhere away from politics--incorporated the members in what boyle has called "the invisible college," and gave it the name of the royal society. in , the mercers' company growing tired of their visitors, the society moved to a house rebuilt by wren in , and purchased by the society for £ , . it had been the residence, before the great fire, of dr. nicholas barebone (son of praise-god barebone), a great building speculator, who had much property in the strand, and who was the first promoter of the phoenix fire office. it seems to have been thought at the time that newton was somewhat despotic in his announcement of the removal, and the members in council grumbled at the new house, and complained of it as small, inconvenient, and dilapidated. nevertheless, sir isaac, unaccustomed to opposition, overruled all these objections, and the society flourished in this fleet street "close" seventy-two years. before the society came to crane court, pepys and wren had been presidents; while at crane court the presidents were--newton ( - ), sir thomas hoare, matthew folkes, esq. (whose portrait hogarth painted), the earl of macclesfield, the earl of morton, james burrow, esq., james west, esq., sir john pringle, and sir joseph banks. the earliest records of this useful society are filled with accounts of experiments on the baconian inductive principle, many of which now appear to us puerile, but which were valuable in the childhood of science. among the labours of the society while in fleet street, we may enumerate its efforts to promote inoculation, - ; electrical experiments on fourteen miles of wires near shooter's hill, ; ventilation, _apropos_ of gaol fever, ; discussions on cavendish's improved thermometers, ; a medal to dollond for experiments on the laws of light, ; observations on the transit of venus, in ; superintendence of the observatory at greenwich, ; observations of the transit of venus in the pacific, (lieutenant cook commenced the expedition); the promotion of an arctic expedition, ; the _racehorse_ meteorological observations, ; experiments on lightning conductors by franklin, cavendish, &c., . the removal of the society was, as we have said, at first strongly objected to, and in a pamphlet published at the time, the new purchase is thus described: "the approach to it, i confess, is very fair and handsome, through a long court; but, then, they have no other property in this than in the street before it, and in a heavy rain a man may hardly escape being thoroughly wet before he can pass through it. the front of the house towards the garden is nearly half as long again as that towards crane court. upon the ground floor there is a little hall, and a direct passage from the stairs into the garden, and on each side of it a little room. the stairs are easy, which carry you up to the next floor. here there is a room fronting the court, directly over the hall; and towards the garden is the meeting-room, and at the end another, also fronting the garden. there are three rooms upon the next floor. these are all that are as yet provided for the reception of the society, except you will have the garrets, a platform of lead over them, and the usual cellars, &c., below, of which they have more and better at gresham college." when the society got settled, by newton's order the porter was clothed in a suitable gown and provided with a staff surmounted by the arms of the society in silver, and on the meeting nights a lamp was hung out over the entrance to the court from fleet street. the repository was built at the rear of the house, and thither the society's museum was removed. the first catalogue, compiled by dr. green, contains the following, among many other marvellous notices:-- "the quills of a porcupine, which on certain occasions the creature can shoot at the pursuing enemy and erect at pleasure. "the flying squirrel, which for a good nut-tree will pass a river on the bark of a tree, erecting his tail for a sail. "the leg-bone of an elephant, brought out of syria for the thigh-bone of a giant. in winter, when it begins to rain, elephants are mad, and so continue from april to september, chained to some tree, and then become tame again. "tortoises, when turned on their backs, will sometimes fetch deep sighs and shed abundance of tears. "a humming-bird and nest, said to weigh but twelve grains; his feathers are set in gold, and sell at a great rate. "a bone, said to be taken out of a mermaid's head. "the largest whale--liker an island than an animal. "the white shark, which sometimes swallows men whole. "a siphalter, said with its sucker to fasten on a ship and stop it under sail. "a stag-beetle, whose horns, worn in a ring, are good against the cramp. "a mountain cabbage--one reported feet high." the author of "hudibras," who died in , attacked the royal society for experiments that seemed to him futile and frivolous, in a severe and bitter poem, entitled, "the elephant in the moon," the elephant proving to be a mouse inside a philosopher's telescope. the poem expresses the current opinion of the society, on which king charles ii. is once said to have played a joke. in - swift, too, had his bitter jeer at the society. in laputa, he thus describes the experimental philosophers:-- "the first man i saw," he says, "was of a meagre aspect, with sooty hands and face, his hair and beard long, ragged, and singed in several places. his clothes, shirt, and skin, were all of the same colour. he had been eight years upon a project for extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which were to be put in phials hermetically sealed, and let out to warm the air in raw, inclement summers. he told me he did not doubt that, in eight years more, he should be able to supply the governor's gardens with sunshine at a reasonable rate; but he complained that his stock was low, and entreated me 'to give him something as an encouragement to ingenuity, especially since this had been a very dear season for cucumbers.' i made him a small present, for my lord had furnished me with money on purpose, because he knew their practice of begging from all who go to see them. i saw another at work to calcine ice into gunpowder, who likewise showed me a treatise he had written concerning the 'malleability of fire,' which he intended to publish. "there was a most ingenious architect, who had contrived a new method of building houses, by beginning at the roof and working downward to the foundation; which he justified to me by the like practice of those two prudent insects, the bee and the spider. i went into another room, where the walls and ceilings were all hung round with cobwebs, except a narrow passage for the architect to go in and out. at my entrance, he called aloud to me 'not to disturb his webs.' he lamented 'the fatal mistake the world had been so long in, of using silk-worms, while we had such plenty of domestic insects who infinitely excelled the former, because they understood how to weave as well as spin.' and he proposed, farther, 'that, by employing spiders, the charge of dying silks would be wholly saved;' whereof i was fully convinced when he showed me a vast number of flies, most beautifully coloured, wherewith he fed his spiders, assuring us, 'that the webs would take a tincture from them;' and, as he had them of all hues, he hoped to fit everybody's fancy, as soon as he could find proper food for the flies, of certain gums, oils, and other glutinous matter, to give a strength and consistence to the threads." mr. grosley, who, in , at lausanne, published a book on london, has drawn a curious picture of the society at that date. "the royal society," he says, "combines within itself the purposes of the parisian academy of sciences and that of inscriptions; it cultivates, in fact, not only the higher branches of science, but literature also. every one, whatever his position, and whether english or foreign, who has made observations which appear to the society worthy of its attention, is allowed to submit them to it either by word of mouth or in writing. i once saw a joiner, in his working clothes, announce to the society a means he had discovered of explaining the causes of tides. he spoke a long time, evidently not knowing what he was talking about; but he was listened to with the greatest attention, thanked for his confidence in the value of the society's opinion, requested to put his ideas into writing, and conducted to the door by one of the principal members. "the place in which the society holds its meetings is neither large nor handsome. it is a long, low, narrow room, only furnished with a table (covered with green cloth), some morocco chairs, and some wooden benches, which rise above each other along the room. the table, placed in front of the fire-place at the bottom of the room, is occupied by the president (who sits with his back to the fire) and the secretaries. on this table is placed a large silver-gilt mace, similar to the one in use in the house of commons, and which, as is the case with the latter, is laid at the foot of the table when the society is in committee. the president is preceded on his entrance and departure by the beadle of the society, bearing this mace. he has beside him, on his table, a little wooden mallet for the purpose of imposing silence when occasion arises, but this is very seldom the case. with the exception of the secretaries and the president, everyone takes his place hap-hazard, at the same time taking great pains to avoid causing any confusion or noise. the society may be said to consist, as a body corporate, of a committee of about twenty persons, chosen from those of its associates who have the fuller opportunities of devoting themselves to their favourite studies. the president and the secretaries are _ex-officio_ members of the committee, which is renewed every year--an arrangement which is so much the more necessary that, in , the society numbered british members, of whom more than forty were peers of the realm, five of the latter being most assiduous members of the committee. "the foreign honorary members, who number about , comprise within their number all the most famous learned men of europe, and amongst them we find the names of d'alembert, bernouilli, bonnet, buffon, euler, jussieu, linné, voltaire, &c.; together with those, in simple alphabetical order, of the dukes of braganza, &c., and the chief ministers of many european sovereigns." during the dispute about lightning conductors (after st. bride's church was struck in ), in the year , george iii. (says mr. weld, in his "history of the royal society") is stated to have taken the side of wilson--not on scientific grounds, but from political motives; he even had blunt conductors fixed on his palace, and actually endeavoured to make the royal society rescind their resolution in favour of pointed conductors. the king, it is declared, had an interview with sir john pringle, during which his majesty earnestly entreated him to use his influence in supporting mr. wilson. the reply of the president was highly honourable to himself and the society whom he represented. it was to the effect that duty as well as inclination would always induce him to execute his majesty's wishes to the utmost of his power; "but, sire," said he, "i cannot reverse the laws and operations of nature." it is stated that when sir john regretted his inability to alter the laws of nature, the king replied, "perhaps, sir john, you had better resign." it was shortly after this occurrence that a friend of dr. franklin's wrote this epigram:-- "while you, great george, for knowledge hunt, and sharp conductors change for blunt, the nation's out of joint; franklin a wiser course pursues, and all your thunder useless views, by keeping to the point." a strange scene in the royal society in (queen anne) deserves record. it ended in the expulsion from the council of that irascible dr. woodward who once fought a duel with dr. mead inside the gate of gresham college. "the sense," says mr. ward, in his "memoirs," "entertained by the society of sir hans sloane's services and virtues was evinced by the manner in which they resented an insult offered him by dr. woodward, who, as the reader is aware, was expelled the council. sir hans was reading a paper of his own composition, when woodward made some grossly insulting remarks. dr. sloane complained, and moreover stated that dr. woodward had often affronted him by making grimaces at him; upon which dr. arbuthnot rose and begged to be 'informed what distortion of a man's face constituted a grimace.' sir isaac newton was in the chair when the question of expulsion was agitated, and when it was pleaded in woodward's favour that 'he was a good natural philosopher,' sir isaac remarked that in order to belong to that society a man ought to be a good moral philosopher as well as a natural one." the scottish society held its meetings in crane court. "elizabeth," says mr. timbs, "kept down the number of scotsmen in london to the astonishingly small one of fifty-eight; but with james i. came such a host of traders and craftsmen, many of whom failing to obtain employment, gave rise, as early as , to the institution of the 'scottish box,' a sort of friendly society's treasury, when there were no banks to take charge of money. in the company, then only twenty, met in lamb's conduit street. in this year upwards of poor scotsmen, swept off by the great plague of - , were buried at the expense of the 'box,' while numbers more were nourished during their sickness, without subjecting the parishes in which they resided to the smallest expense. "in the year the 'box' was exalted into the character of a corporation by a royal charter, the expenses attendant on which were disbursed by gentlemen who, when they met at the 'cross keys,' in covent garden, found their receipts to be £ s. d. the character of the times is seen in one of their regulations, which imposed a fine of s. d. for every oath used in the course of their quarterly business. "presents now flocked in. one of the corporation gave a silver cup; another, an ivory mallet or hammer for the chairman; and among the contributors we find gilbert burnet, afterwards bishop, giving £ half-yearly. in no very scotsman-like spirit the governors distributed each quarter-day all that had been collected during the preceding interval. but in a permanent fund was established. the hospital now distributes about £ , a year, chiefly in £ pensions to old people; and the princely bequest of £ , by mr. w. kinloch, who had realised a fortune in india, allows of £ , being given in pensions of £ to disabled soldiers and sailors. "all this is highly honourable to those connected, by birth or otherwise, with scotland. the monthly meetings of the society are preceded by divine service in the chapel, which is in the rear of the house in crane court. twice a year is held a festival, at which large sums are collected. on st. andrew's day, , viscount palmerston presided, with the brilliant result of the addition of £ , to the hospital fund." appended to the account of the society already quoted we find the following remarkable "note by an englishman":-- "it is not one of the least curious particulars in the history of the scottish hospital that it substantiates by documentary evidence the fact that scotsmen who have gone to england occasionally find their way back to their own country. it appears from the books of the corporation that in the year ending th november, , the sum of £ s. d. was spent in passages from london to leith; and there is actually a corresponding society in edinburgh to receive the _revenants_ and pass them on to their respective districts." in crane court, says mr. timbs, lived dryden leach, the printer, who, in , was arrested on a general warrant upon suspicion of having printed wilkes's _north briton_, no . leach was taken out of his bed in the night, his papers were seized, and even his journeymen and servants were apprehended, the only foundation for the arrest being a hearsay that wilkes had been seen going into leach's house. wilkes had been sent to the tower for the no. . after much litigation, he obtained a verdict of £ , , and leach £ , damages from three of the king's messengers, who had executed the illegal warrant. kearsley, the bookseller, of fleet street (whom we recollect by his tax-tables), had been taken up for publishing no. , when also at kearsley's were seized the letters of wilkes, which seemed to fix upon him the writing of the obscene and blasphemous "essay on woman," and of which he was convicted in the court of king's bench and expelled the house of commons. the author of this "indecent patchwork" was not wilkes (says walpole), but thomas potter, the wild son of the learned archbishop of canterbury, who had tried to fix the authorship on the learned and arrogant warburton--a piece of matchless impudence worthy of wilkes himself. [illustration: the royal society's house in crane court (_see page _).] red lion court (no. ), though an unlikely spot, has been, of all the side binns of fleet street, one of the most specially favoured by minerva. here valpy published that interminable series of latin and greek authors, which he called the "delphin classics," which lamb's eccentric friend, george dyer, of clifford's inn, laboriously edited, and which opened the eyes of the subscribers very wide indeed as to the singular richness of ancient literature. at the press of an eminent printer in this court, that useful and perennial serial the _gentleman's magazine_ (started in ) was partly printed from to , and entirely printed from to . johnson's court, fleet street (a narrow court on the north side of fleet street, the fourth from fetter lane, eastward), was not named from dr. johnson, although inhabited by him. [illustration: theodore e. hook (_see page _).] dr. johnson was living at johnson's court in , after he left no. , inner temple lane, and before he removed to bolt court. at johnson's court he made the acquaintance of murphey, and he worked at his edition of "shakespeare." he saw much of reynolds and burke. on the accession of george iii. a pension of £ a year had been bestowed on him, and from that time he became comparatively an affluent man. in , boswell had become acquainted with dr. johnson, and from that period his wonderful conversations are recorded. the indefatigable biographer describes, in , being taken by mr. levett to see dr. johnson's library, which was contained in his garret over his temple chambers, where the son of the well-known lintot used to have his warehouse. the floor was strewn with manuscript leaves; and there was an apparatus for chemical experiments, of which johnson was all his life very fond. johnson often hid himself in this garret for study, but never told his servant, as the doctor would never allow him to say he was not at home when he was. "he"(johnson), says hawkins, "removed from the temple into a house in johnson's court, fleet street, and invited thither his friend mrs. williams. an upper room, which had the advantage of a good light and free air, he fitted up for a study and furnished with books, chosen with so little regard to editions or their external appearances as showed they were intended for use, and that he disdained the ostentation of learning." "i returned to london," says boswell, "in february, , and found dr. johnson in a good house in johnson's court, fleet street, in which he had accommodated mrs. williams with an apartment on the ground-floor, while mr. levett occupied his post in the garret. his faithful francis was still attending upon him. he received me with much kindness. the fragments of our first conversation, which i have preserved, are these:--i told him that voltaire, in a conversation with me, had distinguished pope and dryden, thus: 'pope drives a handsome chariot, with a couple of neat, trim nags; dryden, a coach and six stately horses.' johnson: 'why, sir, the truth is, they both drive coaches and six, but dryden's horses are either galloping or stumbling; pope's go at a steady, even trot.' he said of goldsmith's 'traveller,' which had been published in my absence, 'there's not been so fine a poem since pope's time.' dr. johnson at the same time favoured me by marking the lines which he furnished to goldsmith's 'deserted village,' which are only the last four:-- 'that trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay, as ocean sweeps the labour'd mole away; while self-dependent power can time defy, as rocks resist the billows and the sky.' at night i supped with him at the 'mitre' tavern, that we might renew our social intimacy at the original place of meeting. but there was now considerable difference in his way of living. having had an illness, in which he was advised to leave off wine, he had, from that period, continued to abstain from it, and drank only water or lemonade." "mr. beauclerk and i," says boswell, in another place, "called on him in the morning. as we walked up johnson's court, i said, 'i have a veneration for this court,' and was glad to find that beauclerk had the same reverential enthusiasm." the doctor's removal boswell thus duly chronicles:--"having arrived," he says, "in london late on friday, the th of march, , i hastened next morning to wait on dr. johnson, at his house, but found he was removed from johnson's court, no. , to bolt court, no. , still keeping to his favourite fleet street. my reflection at the time, upon this change, as marked in my journal, is as follows: 'i felt a foolish regret that he had left a court which bore his name; but it was not foolish to be affected with some tenderness of regard for a place in which i had seen him a great deal, from whence i had often issued a better and a happier man than when i went in; and which had often appeared to my imagination, while i trod its pavement in the solemn darkness of the night, to be sacred to wisdom and piety.'" johnson was living at johnson's court when he was introduced to george iii., an interview in which he conducted himself, considering he was an ingrained jacobite, with great dignity, self-respect, and good sense. that clever, but most shameless and scurrilous, paper, _john bull_, was started in johnson's court, at the close of . its specific and real object was to slander unfortunate queen caroline and to torment, stigmatise, and blacken "the brandenburg house party," as her honest sympathisers were called. theodore hook was chosen editor, because he knew society, was quick, witty, satirical, and thoroughly unscrupulous. for his "splendid abuse"--as his biographer, the unreverend mr. barham, calls it--he received the full pay of a greedy hireling. tom moore and the whigs now met with a terrible adversary. hook did not hew or stab, like churchill and the old rough lampooners of earlier days, but he filled crackers with wild fire, or laughingly stuck the enemies of george iv. over with pins. hook had only a year before returned from the treasuryship of the mauritius, charged with a defalcation of £ , --the result of the grossest and most culpable neglect. hungry for money, as he had ever been, he was eager to show his zeal for the master who had hired his pen. hook and daniel terry, the comedian, joined to start the new satirical paper; but miller, a publisher in the burlington arcade, was naturally afraid of libel, and refused to have anything to do with the new venture. with miller, as hook said in his clever, punning way, all argument in favour of it proved newgate-ory. hook at first wanted to start a magazine upon the model of _blackwood_, but the final decision was for a weekly newspaper, to be called _john bull_, a title already discussed for a previous scheme by hook and elliston. the first number appeared on saturday, december , , in the publishing office, no. , johnson's court. the modest projectors only printed seven hundred and fifty copies of the first number, but the sale proved considerable. by the sixth week the sale had reached ten thousand weekly. the first five numbers were reprinted, and the first two actually stereotyped. hook's favourite axiom--worthy of such a satirist--was "that there was always a concealed wound in every family, and the point was to strike exactly at the source of pain." hook's clerical elder brother, dr. james hook, the author of "pen owen" and other novels, and afterwards dean of worcester, assisted him; but terry was too busy in what sir walter scott, his great friend and sleeping partner, used to call "_terry_fying the novelists by not very brilliant adaptations of their works." dr. maginn, summoned from cork to edit a newspaper for hook (who had bought up two dying newspapers for the small expenditure of three hundred guineas), wrote only one article for the _bull_. mr. haynes bayley contributed some of his graceful verses, and ingoldsby (barham) some of his rather ribald fun. the anonymous editor of _john bull_ became for a time as much talked about as junius in earlier times. by many witty james smith was suspected, but his fun had not malignity enough for the tory purposes of those bitter days. latterly hook let alderman wood alone, and set all his staff on hume, the great economist, and the hon. henry grey bennett. several prosecutions followed, says mr. barham, that for libel on the queen among the rest; but the grand attempt on the part of the whigs to crush the paper was not made till the th of may, . a short and insignificant paragraph, containing some observations upon the hon. henry grey bennett, a brother of lord tankerville's, was selected for attack, as involving a breach of privilege; in consequence of which the printer, mr. h.f. cooper, the editor, and mr. shackell were ordered to attend at the bar of the house of commons. a long debate ensued, during which ministers made as fair a stand as the nature of the case would admit in behalf of their guerrilla allies, but which terminated at length in the committal of cooper to newgate, where he was detained from the th of may till the th of july, when parliament was prorogued. meanwhile the most strenuous exertions were made to detect the real delinquents--for, of course, honourable gentlemen were not to be imposed upon by the unfortunate "men of straw" who had fallen into their clutches, and who, by the way, suffered for an offence of which their judges and accusers openly proclaimed them to be not only innocent, but incapable. the terror of imprisonment and the various arts of cross-examination proving insufficient to elicit the truth, recourse was had to a simpler and more conciliatory mode of treatment--bribery. the storm had failed to force off the editorial cloak--the golden beams were brought to bear upon it. we have it for certain that an offer was made to a member of the establishment to stay all impending proceedings, and, further, to pay down a sum of £ on the names of the actual writers being given up. it was rejected with disdain, while such were the precautions taken that it was impossible to fix hook, though suspicion began to be awakened, with any share in the concern. in order, also, to cross the scent already hit off, and announced by sundry deep-mouthed pursuers, the following "reply"--framed upon the principle, we presume, that in literature, as in love, everything is fair--was thrown out in an early number:-- "mr. theodore hook. "the conceit of some people is amazing, and it has not been unfrequently remarked that conceit is in abundance where talent is most scarce. our readers will see that we have received a letter from mr. hook, disowning and disavowing all connection with this paper. partly out of good nature, and partly from an anxiety to show the gentleman how little desirous we are to be associated with him, we have made a declaration which will doubtless be quite satisfactory to his morbid sensibility and affected squeamishness. we are free to confess that two things surprise us in this business; the first, that anything which we have thought worth giving to the public should have been mistaken for mr. hook's; and, secondly that _such a person_ as mr. hook should think himself disgraced by a connection with _john bull_." for sheer impudence this, perhaps, may be admitted to "defy competition"; but in point of tact and delicacy of finish it falls infinitely short of a subsequent notice, a perfect gem of its class, added by way of clenching the denial:-- "we have received mr. theodore hook's second letter. we are ready to confess that we may have appeared to treat him too unceremoniously, but we will put it to his own feelings whether the terms of his denial were not, in some degree, calculated to produce a little asperity on our part. we shall never be ashamed, however, to do justice, and we readily declare that we meant no kind of imputation on mr. hook's personal character." the ruse answered for awhile, and the paper went on with unabated audacity. the death of the queen, in the summer of , produced a decided alteration in the tone and temper of the paper. in point of fact its occupation was now gone. the main, if not the sole, object of its establishment had been brought about by other and unforeseen events. the combination it had laboured so energetically to thwart was now dissolved by a higher and resistless agency. still, it is not to be supposed that a machine which brought in a profit of something above £ , per annum, half of which fell to the share of hook, was to be lightly thrown up, simply because its original purpose was attained. the dissolution of the "league" did not exist then as a precedent. the queen was no longer to be feared; but there were whigs and radicals enough to be held in check, and, above all, there was a handsome income to be realised. "latterly hook's desultory nature made him wander from the _bull_, which might have furnished the thoughtless and heartless man of pleasure with an income for life. the paper naturally lost sap and vigour, at once declined in sale, and sank into a mere respectable club-house and party organ." "mr. hook," says barham, "received to the day of his death a fixed salary, but the proprietorship had long since passed into other hands." chapter x. fleet street tributaries. dr. johnson in bolt court--his motley household--his life there--still existing--the gallant "lumber troop"--reform bill riots--sir claudius hunter--cobbett in bolt court--the bird boy--the private soldier--in the house--dr. johnson in gough square--busy at the dictionary--goldsmith in wine office court--selling "the vicar of wakefield"--goldsmith's troubles--wine office court--the old "cheshire cheese." of all the nooks of london associated with the memory of that good giant of literature, dr. johnson, not one is more sacred to those who love that great and wise man than bolt court. to this monastic court johnson came in , and remained till that december day in , when a procession of all the learned and worthy men who honoured him followed his body to its grave in the abbey, near the feet of shakespeare and by the side of garrick. the great scholar, whose ways and sayings, whose rough hide and tender heart, are so familiar to us--thanks to that faithful parasite who secured an immortality by getting up behind his triumphal chariot--came to bolt court from johnson's court, whither he had flitted from inner temple lane, where he was living when the young scotch barrister who was afterwards his biographer first knew him. his strange household of fretful and disappointed almspeople seems as well known as our own. at the head of these pensioners was the daughter of a welsh doctor, (a blind old lady named williams), who had written some trivial poems; mrs. desmoulins, an old staffordshire lady, her daughter, and a miss carmichael. the relationships of these fretful and quarrelsome old maids dr. johnson has himself sketched, in a letter to mr. and mrs. thrale:--"williams hates everybody; levett hates desmoulins, and does not love williams; desmoulins hates them both; poll (miss carmichael) loves none of them." this levett was a poor eccentric apothecary, whom johnson supported, and who seems to have been a charitable man. the annoyance of such a menagerie of angular oddities must have driven johnson more than ever to his clubs, where he could wrestle with the best intellects of the day, and generally retire victorious. he had done nearly all his best work by this time, and was sinking into the sere and yellow leaf, not, like macbeth, with the loss of honour, but with love, obedience, troops of friends, and golden opinions from all sorts of people. his titanic labour, the dictionary, he had achieved chiefly in gough square; his "rasselas"--that grave and wise oriental story--he had written in a few days, in staple's inn, to defray the expenses of his mother's funeral. in bolt court he, however, produced his "lives of the poets," a noble compendium of criticism, defaced only by the bitter tory depreciation of milton, and injured by the insertion of many worthless and the omission of several good poets. it is pleasant to think of some of the events that happened while johnson lived in bolt court. here he exerted himself with all the ardour of his nature to soothe the last moments of that wretched man, dr. dodd, who was hanged for forgery. from bolt court he made those frequent excursions to the thrales, at streatham, where the rich brewer and his brilliant wife gloried in the great london lion they had captured. to bolt court came johnson's friends reynolds and gibbon, and garrick, and percy, and langton; but poor goldsmith had died before johnson left johnson's court. to bolt court he stalked home the night of his memorable quarrel with dr. percy, no doubt regretting the violence and boisterous rudeness with which he had attacked an amiable and gifted man. from bolt court he walked to service at st. clement's church on the day he rejoiced in comparing the animation of fleet street with the desolation of the hebrides. it was from bolt court boswell drove johnson to dine with general paoli, a drive memorable for the fact that on that occasion johnson uttered his first and only recorded pun. johnson was at bolt court when the gordon riots broke out, and he describes them to mrs. thrale. boswell gives a pleasant sketch of a party at bolt court, when mrs. hall (a sister of wesley) was there, and mr. allen, a printer; johnson produced his silver salvers, and it was "a great day." it was on this occasion that the conversation fell on apparitions, and johnson, always superstitious to the last degree, told the story of hearing his mother's voice call him one day at oxford (probably at a time when his brain was overworked). on this great occasion also, johnson, talked at by mrs. hall and mrs. williams at the same moment, gaily quoted the line from the _beggars' opera_,-- "but two at a time there's no mortal can bear," and boswell playfully compared the great man to captain macheath. imagine mrs. williams, old and peevish; mrs. hall, lean, lank, and preachy; johnson, rolling in his chair like polyphemus at a debate; boswell, stooping forward on the perpetual listen; mr. levett, sour and silent; frank, the black servant, proud of the silver salvers--and you have the group as in a picture. in bolt court we find johnson now returning from pleasant dinners with wilkes and garrick, malone and dr. burney; now sitting alone over his greek testament, or praying with his black servant, frank. we like to picture him on that good friday morning ( ), when he and boswell, returning from service at st. clement's, rested on the stone seat at the garden-door in bolt court, talking about gardens and country hospitality. then, finally, we come to almost the last scene of all, when the sick man addressed to his kind physician, brocklesby, that pathetic passage of shakespeare's,-- "canst thou not minister to a mind diseased; pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow; raze out the written troubles of the brain; and with some sweet oblivious antidote cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart?" round johnson's dying bed gathered many wise and good men. to burke he said, "i must be in a wretched state indeed, when your company would not be a delight to me." to another friend he remarked solemnly, but in his old grand manner, "sir, you cannot conceive with what acceleration i advance towards death." nor did his old vehemence and humour by any means forsake him, for he described a man who sat up to watch him "as an idiot, sir; awkward as a turnspit when first put into the wheel, and sleepy as a dormouse." his remaining hours were spent in fervent prayer. the last words he uttered were those of benediction upon the daughter of a friend who came to ask his blessing. some years before dr. johnson's death, when the poet rogers was a young clerk of literary proclivities at his father's bank, he one day stole surreptitiously to bolt court, to daringly show some of his fledgeling poems to the great polyphemus of literature. he and young maltby, an ancestor of the late bishop of durham, crept blushingly through the quiet court, and on arriving at the sacred door on the west side, ascended the steps and knocked at the door; but the awful echo of that knocker struck terror to the young _débutants'_ hearts, and before frank barber, the doctor's old negro footman, could appear, the two lads, like street-boys who had perpetrated a mischievous runaway knock, took to their heels and darted back into noisy fleet street. mr. jesse, who has collected so many excellent anecdotes, some even original, in his three large volumes on "london's celebrated characters and places," says that the elder mr. disraeli, singularly enough, used in society to relate an almost similar adventure as a youth. eager for literary glory, but urged towards the counter by his sober-minded relations, he enclosed some of his best verses to the celebrated dr. johnson, and modestly solicited from the terrible critic an opinion of their value. having waited some time in vain for a reply, the ambitious jewish youth at last (december , ) resolved to face the lion in his den, and rapping tremblingly (as his predecessor, rogers), heard with dismay the knocker echo on the metal. we may imagine the feelings of the young votary at the shrine of learning, when the servant (probably frank barber), who slowly opened the door, informed him that dr. johnson had breathed his last only a few short hours before. mr. timbs reminds us of another story of dr. johnson, which will not be out of place here. it is an excellent illustration of the keen sagacity and forethought of that great man's mind. one evening dr. johnson, looking from his dim bolt court window, saw the slovenly lamp-lighter of those days ascending a ladder (just as hogarth has drawn him in the "rake's progress"), and fill the little receptacle in the globular lamp with detestable whale-oil. just as he got down the ladder the dull light wavered out. skipping up the ladder again, the son of prometheus lifted the cover, thrust the torch he carried into the heated vapour rising from the wick, and instantly the ready flame sprang restored to life. "ah," said the old seer, "one of these days the streets of london will be lighted by smoke." [illustration: dr. johnson's house in bolt court (_see page _).] johnson's house (no. ), according to mr. noble, was not destroyed by fire in , as mr. timbs and other writers assert. the house destroyed was bensley the printer's (next door to no. ), the successor of johnson's friend, allen, who in published manning's saxon, gothic, and latin dictionary, and died in . in bensley's destructive fire all the plates and stock of dallaway's "history of sussex" were consumed. johnson's house, says mr. noble, was in purchased by the stationers' company, and fitted up as a cheap school (six shillings a quarter). in mr. foss, master of the company, initiated a fund, and since then a university scholarship has been founded--_sicitur ad astra_. the back room, first floor, in which the great man died, had been pulled down by mr. bensley, to make way for a staircase. bensley was one of the first introducers of the german invention of steam-printing. [illustration: a tea party at dr. johnson's (_see page _).] at "dr. johnson's" tavern, established forty years ago (now the albert club), the well-known society of the "lumber troop" once drained their porter and held their solemn smokings. this gallant force of supposititious fighting men "came out" with great force during the reform riots of . these useless disturbances originated in a fussy, foolish warning letter, written by john key, the lord mayor elect (he was generally known in the city as don key after this), to the duke of wellington, then as terribly unpopular with the english reformers as he had been with the french after the battle of waterloo, urging him (the duke) if he came with king william and queen adelaide to dine with the new lord mayor, (his worshipful self), to come "strongly and sufficiently guarded." this imprudent step greatly offended the people, who were also just then much vexed with the severities of peel's obnoxious new police. the result was that the new king and queen (for the not over-beloved george iv. had only died in june of that year) thought it better to decline coming to the city festivities altogether. great, then, was even the tory indignation, and the fattest alderman trotted about, eager to discuss the grievance, the waste of half-cooked turtle, and the general folly and enormity of the lord mayor elect's conduct. sir claudius hunter, who had shared in the lord mayor's fears, generously marched to his aid. in a published statement that he made, he enumerated the force available for the defence of the (in his mind) endangered city in the following way:-- ward constables fellowship, ticket, and tackle porters firemen corn porters extra men hired city police or own men tradesmen with emblems in the procession some gentlemen called the lumber troopers the artillery company the east india volunteers total of all comers , in the same statement sir claudius says:--"the lumber troop are a respectable smoking club, well known to every candidate for a seat in parliament for london, and most famed for the quantity of tobacco they consume and the porter they drink, which, i believe (from my own observation, made nineteen years ago, when i was a candidate for that office), is the only liquor allowed. they were to have had no pay, and i am sure they would have done their best." along the line of procession, to oppose this civic force, the right worshipful but foolish man reckoned there would be some , persons. with all these aldermanic fears, and all these irritating precautions, a riot naturally took place. on monday, november th, that glib, unsatisfactory man, orator hunt, the great demagogue of the day, addressed a reform meeting at the rotunda, in blackfriars road. at half-past eleven, when the radical gentleman, famous for his white hat (the lode-star of faction), retired, a man suddenly waved a tricolour flag (it was the year, remember, of the revolution in paris), with the word "reform" painted upon it, and a preconcerted cry was raised by the more violent of, "now for the west end!" about one thousand men then rushed over blackfriars bridge, shouting, "reform!" "down with the police!" "no peel!" "no wellington!" hurrying along the strand, the mob first proceeded to earl bathurst's, in downing street. a foolish gentleman of the house, hearing the cries, came out on the balcony, armed with a brace of pistols, and declared he would fire on the first man who attempted to enter the place. another gentleman at this moment came out, and very sensibly took the pistols from his friend, on which the mob retired. the rioters were then making for the house of commons, but were stopped by a strong line of police, just arrived in time from scotland yard. one hundred and forty more men soon joined the constables, and a general fight ensued, in which many heads were quickly broken, and the reform flag was captured. three of the rioters were arrested, and taken to the watch-house in the almonry in westminster. a troop of royal horse guards (blue) remained during the night ready in the court of the horse guards, and bands of policemen paraded the streets. on tuesday the riots continued. about half-past five p.m., or persons, chiefly boys, came along the strand, shouting, "no peel!" "down with the raw lobsters!" (the new police); "this way, my lads; we'll give it them!" at the back of the menageries at charing cross the police rushed upon them, and after a skirmish put them to flight. at seven o'clock the vast crowd by temple bar compelled every coachman and passenger in a coach, as a passport, to pull off his hat and shout "huzza!" stones were thrown, and attempts were made to close the gates of the bar. the city marshals, however, compelled them to be re-opened, and opposed the passage of the mob to the strand, but the pass was soon forced. the rioters in pickett place pelted the police with stones and pieces of wood, broken from the scaffolding of the law institute, then building in chancery lane. another mob of about persons ran up piccadilly to apsley house and hissed and hooted the stubborn, unprogressive old duke, mr. peel, and the police; the constables, however, soon dispersed them. the same evening dangerous mobs collected in bethnal green, spitalfields, and whitechapel, one party of them displaying tricoloured flags. they broke a lamp and a window or two, but did little else. alas for poor sir claudius and his profound computations! his , fighting loyal men dwindled down to , including even those strange hybrids, the firemen-watermen; and as for the gallant lumber troop, they were nowhere visible to the naked eye. to bolt court that scourge of king george iii., william cobbett, came from fleet street to sell his indian corn, for which no one cared, and to print and publish his twopenny _political register_, for which the london radicals of that day hungered. nearly opposite the office of "this good hater," says mr. timbs, wright (late kearsley) kept shop, and published a searching criticism on cobbett's excellent english grammar as soon as it appeared. we only wonder that cobbett did not reply to him as johnson did to a friend after he knocked osborne (the grubbing bookseller of gray's inn gate) down with a blow--"sir, he was impertinent, and i beat him." a short biographical sketch of cobbett will not be inappropriate here. this sturdy englishman, born in the year , was the son of an honest and industrious yeoman, who kept an inn called the "jolly farmer," at farnham, in surrey. "my first occupation," says cobbett, "was driving the small birds from the turnip seed and the rooks from the peas. when i first trudged a-field with my wooden bottle and my satchel over my shoulder, i was hardly able to climb the gates and stiles." in the restless lad (a plant grown too high for the pot) ran away to london, and turned lawyer's clerk. at the end of nine months he enlisted, and sailed for nova scotia. before long he became sergeant-major, over the heads of thirty other non-commissioned officers. frugal and diligent, the young soldier soon educated himself. discharged at his own request in , he married a respectable girl, to whom he had before entrusted £ hard-earned savings. obtaining a trial against four officers of his late regiment for embezzlement of stores, for some strange reason cobbett fled to france on the eve of the trial, but finding the king of that country dethroned, he started at once for america. at philadelphia he boldly began as a high tory bookseller, and denounced democracy in his virulent "porcupine papers." finally, overwhelmed with actions for libel, cobbett in returned to england. failing with a daily paper and a bookseller's shop, cobbett then started his _weekly register_, which for thirty years continued to express the changes of his honest but impulsive and vindictive mind. gradually--it is said, owing to some slight shown him by pitt (more probably from real conviction)--cobbett grew radical and progressive, and in was fined £ for libels on the irish government. in he was fined £ , and imprisoned two years for violent remarks about some ely militiamen who had been flogged under a guard of fixed bayonets. this punishment he never forgave. he followed up his _register_ by his _twopenny trash_, of which he eventually sold , a number. the six acts being passed--as he boasted, to gag him--he fled, in , again to america. the persecuted man returned to england in , bringing with him, much to the amusement of the tory lampooners, the bones of that foul man, tom paine, the infidel, whom (in ) this changeful politician had branded as "base, malignant, treacherous, unnatural, and blasphemous." during the queen caroline trial cobbett worked heart and soul for that questionable martyr. he went out to shooter's hill to welcome her to london, and boasted of having waved a laurel bough above her head. in he wrote a scurrilous "history of the reformation" (by many still attributed to a priest), in which he declared luther, calvin, and beza to be the greatest ruffians that ever disgraced the world. in his old age, too late to be either brilliant or useful, cobbett got into parliament, being returned in (thanks to the reform bill) member for oldham. he died at his house near farnham, in . cobbett was an egotist, it must be allowed, and a violent-tempered, vindictive man; but his honesty, his love of truth and liberty, few who are not blinded by party opinion can doubt. his writings are remarkable for vigorous and racy saxon, as full of vituperation as rabelais's, and as terse and simple as swift's. mr. grant, in his pleasant book, "random recollections of the house of commons," written _circa_ , gives us an elaborate full-length portrait of old cobbett. he was, he says, not less than six feet high, and broad and athletic in proportion. his hair was silver-white, his complexion ruddy as a farmer's. till his small eyes sparkled with laughter, he looked a mere dull-pated clodpole. his dress was a light, loose, grey tail-coat, a white waistcoat, and sandy kerseymere breeches, and he usually walked about the house with both his hands plunged into his breeches pockets. he had an eccentric, half-malicious way of sometimes suddenly shifting his seat, and on one important night, big with the fate of peel's administration, deliberately anchored down in the very centre of the disgusted tories and at the very back of sir robert's bench, to the infinite annoyance of the somewhat supercilious party. we next penetrate into gough square, in search of the great lexicographer. as far as can be ascertained from boswell, dr. johnson resided at gough square from to , an eventful period of his life, and one of struggle, pain, and difficulty. in this gloomy side square near fleet street, he achieved many results and abandoned many hopes. here he nursed his hypochondria--the nightmare of his life--and sought the only true relief in hard work. here he toiled over books, drudging for cave and dodsley. here he commenced both the _rambler_ and the _idler_, and formed his acquaintance with bennet langton. here his wife died, and left him more than ever a prey to his natural melancholy; and here he toiled on his great work, the dictionary, in which he and six amanuenses effected what it took all the french academicians to perform for their language. a short epitome of what this great man accomplished while in gough square will clearly recall to our readers his way of life while in that locality. in , johnson formed a quiet club in ivy lane, wrote that fine paraphrase of juvenal, "the vanity of human wishes," and brought out, with dubious success, under garrick's auspices, his tragedy of _irene_. in , he commenced the _rambler_. in , the year his wife died, he laboured on at the dictionary. in , he became acquainted with bennet langton. in he wrote the life of his early patron, cave, who died that year. in , the great dictionary, begun in , was at last published, and johnson wrote that scathing letter to the earl of chesterfield, who, too late, thrust upon him the patronage the poor scholar had once sought in vain. in , the still struggling man was arrested for a paltry debt of £ _s._, from which richardson the worthy relieved him. in , when he began the _idler_, johnson is described as "being in as easy and pleasant a state of existence as constitutional unhappiness ever permitted him to enjoy." while the dictionary was going forward, "johnson," says boswell, "lived part of the time in holborn, part in gough square (fleet street); and he had an upper room fitted up like a counting-house for the purpose, in which he gave to the copyists their several tasks. the words, partly taken from other dictionaries and partly supplied by himself, having been first written down with space left between them, he delivered in writing their etymologies, definitions, and various significations. the authorities were copied from the books themselves, in which he had marked the passages with a black-lead pencil, the traces of which could be easily effaced. i have seen several of them in which that trouble had not been taken, so that they were just as when used by the copyists. it is remarkable that he was so attentive to the choice of the passages in which words were authorised, that one may read page after page of his dictionary with improvement and pleasure; and it should not pass unobserved, that he has quoted no author whose writings had a tendency to hurt sound religion and morality." to this account bishop percy adds a note of great value for its lucid exactitude. "boswell's account of the manner in which johnson compiled his dictionary," he says, "is confused and erroneous. he began his task (as he himself expressly described to me) by devoting his first care to a diligent perusal of all such english writers as were most correct in their language, and under every sentence which he meant to quote he drew a line, and noted in the margin the first letter of the word under which it was to occur. he then delivered these books to his clerks, who transcribed each sentence on a separate slip of paper and arranged the same under the word referred to. by these means he collected the several words, and their different significations, and when the whole arrangement was alphabetically formed, he gave the definitions of their meanings, and collected their etymologies from skinner, and other writers on the subject." to these accounts, hawkins adds his usual carping, pompous testimony. "dr. johnson," he says, "who, before this time, together with his wife, had lived in obscurity, lodging at different houses in the courts and alleys in and about the strand and fleet street, had, for the purpose of carrying on this arduous work, and being near the printers employed in it, taken a handsome house in gough square, and fitted up a room in it with books and other accommodations for amanuenses, who, to the number of five or six, he kept constantly under his eye. an interleaved copy of "bailey's dictionary," in folio, he made the repository of the several articles, and these he collected by incessantly reading the best authors in our language, in the practice whereof his method was to score with a black-lead pencil the words by him selected. the books he used for this purpose were what he had in his own collection, a copious but a miserably ragged one, and all such as he could borrow; which latter, if ever they came back to those that lent them, were so defaced as to be scarce worth owning, and yet some of his friends were glad to receive and entertain them as curiosities." "mr. burney," says boswell, "during a visit to the capital, had an interview with johnson in gough square, where he dined and drank tea with him, and was introduced to the acquaintance of mrs. williams. after dinner mr. johnson proposed to mr. burney to go up with him into his garret, which being accepted, he found there about five or six greek folios, a poor writing-desk, and a chair and a half. johnson, giving to his guest the entire seat, balanced himself on one with only three legs and one arm. here he gave mr. burney mrs. williams's history, and showed him some notes on shakespeare already printed, to prove that he was in earnest. upon mr. burney's opening the first volume at the _merchant of venice_ he observed to him that he seemed to be more severe on warburton than on theobald. 'oh, poor tib!' said johnson, 'he was nearly knocked down to my hands; warburton stands between me and him.' 'but, sir,' said mr. burney, 'you'll have warburton on your bones, won't you? 'no, sir;' he'll not come out; he'll only growl in his den.' 'but do you think, sir, warburton is a superior critic to theobald?' 'oh, sir, he'll make two-and-fifty theobalds cut into slices! the worst of warburton is that he has a rage for saying something when there's nothing to be said.' mr. burney then asked him whether he had seen the letter warburton had written in answer to a pamphlet addressed 'to the most impudent man alive.' he answered in the negative. mr. burney told him it was supposed to be written by mallet. a controversy now raged between the friends of pope and bolingbroke, and warburton and mallet were the leaders of the several parties. mr. burney asked him then if he had seen warburton's book against bolingbroke's philosophy!'no, sir; i have never read bolingbroke's impiety, and therefore am not interested about its refutation.'" goldsmith appears to have resided at no. , wine office court from to , during which period he earned a precarious livelihood by writing for the booksellers. they still point out johnson and goldsmith's favourite seats in the north-east corner of the window of that cozy though utterly unpretentious tavern, the "cheshire cheese," in this court. it was while living in wine office court that goldsmith is supposed to have partly written that delightful novel "the vicar of wakefield," which he had begun at canonbury tower. we like to think that, seated at the "cheese," he perhaps espied and listened to the worthy but credulous vicar and his gosling son attending to the profound theories of the learned and philosophic but shifty mr. jenkinson. we think now by the window, with a cross light upon his coarse irish features, and his round prominent brow, we see the watchful poet sit eyeing his prey, secretly enjoying the grandiloquence of the swindler and the admiration of the honest country parson. "one day," says mrs. piozzi, "johnson was called abruptly from our house at southwark, after dinner, and, returning in about three hours, said he had been with an enraged author, whose landlady pressed him within doors while the bailiffs beset him without; that he was drinking himself drunk with madeira to drown care, and fretting over a novel which, when finished, was to be his whole fortune; but he could not get it done for distraction, nor dared he stir out of doors to offer it for sale. mr. johnson, therefore," she continues, "sent away the bottle and went to the bookseller, recommending the performance, and devising some immediate relief; which, when he brought back to the writer, the latter called the woman of the house directly to partake of punch and pass their time in merriment. it was not," she concludes, "till ten years after, i dare say, that something in dr. goldsmith's behaviour struck me with an idea that he was the very man; and then johnson confessed that he was so." "a more scrupulous and patient writer," says the admirable biographer of the poet, mr. john forster, "corrects some inaccuracies of the lively little lady, and professes to give the anecdote authentically from johnson's own exact narration. 'i received one morning,' boswell represents johnson to have said, 'a message from poor goldsmith, that he was in great distress, and, as it was not in his power to come to me, begging that i would come to him as soon as possible. i sent him a guinea, and promised to come to him directly. i accordingly went as soon as i was dressed, and found that his landlady had arrested him for his rent, at which he was in a violent passion. i perceived that he had already changed my guinea, and had got a bottle of madeira and a glass before him. i put the cork into the bottle, desired he would be calm, and began to talk to him of the means by which he might be extricated. he then told me that he had a novel ready for the press, which he produced to me. i looked into it and saw its merits, told the landlady i should soon return, and, having gone to a bookseller, sold it for £ . i brought goldsmith the money, and he discharged his rent, not without rating his landlady in a high tone for having used him so ill.'" [illustration: gough square (_see page _).] the arrest is plainly connected with newbery's reluctance to make further advances, and of all mrs. fleming's accounts found among goldsmith's papers, the only one unsettled is that for the summer months preceding the arrest. the manuscript of the novel seems by both statements (in which the discrepancies are not so great but that johnson himself may be held accountable for them) to have been produced reluctantly, as a last resource; and it is possible, as mrs. piozzi intimates, that it was still regarded as unfinished. but if strong adverse reasons had not existed, johnson would surely have carried it to the elder newbery. he did not do this. he went with it to francis newbery, the nephew; does not seem to have given a very brilliant account of the "merit" he had perceived in it--four years after its author's death he told reynolds that he did not think it would have had much success--and rather with regard to goldsmith's immediate want than to any confident sense of the value of the copy, asked and obtained the £ . "and, sir," he said afterwards, "a sufficient price, too, when it was sold, for then the fame of goldsmith had not been elevated, as it afterwards was, by his 'traveller,' and the bookseller had faint hopes of profit by his bargain. after 'the traveller,' to be sure, it was accidentally worth more money." [illustration: wine office court and the "cheshire cheese" (_see page _).] on the poem, meanwhile, the elder newbery _had_ consented to speculate, and this circumstance may have made it hopeless to appeal to him with a second work of fancy. for, on that very day of the arrest, "the traveller" lay completed in the poet's desk. the dream of eight years, the solace and sustainment of his exile and poverty, verged at last to fulfilment or extinction, and the hopes and fears which centred in it doubtless mingled on that miserable day with the fumes of the madeira. in the excitement of putting it to press, which followed immediately after, the nameless novel recedes altogether from the view, but will reappear in due time. johnson approved the verses more than the novel; read the proof-sheets for his friend; substituted here and there, in more emphatic testimony of general approval, a line of his own; prepared a brief but hearty notice for the _critical review_, which was to appear simultaneously with the poem, and, as the day of publication drew near, bade goldsmith be of good heart. oliver goldsmith came first to london in , a raw irish student, aged twenty-eight. he was just fresh from italy and switzerland. he had heard voltaire talk, had won a degree at louvaine or padua, had been "bear leader" to the stingy nephew of a rich pawnbroker, and had played the flute at the door of flemish peasants for a draught of beer and a crust of bread. no city of golden pavement did london prove to those worn and dusty feet. almost a beggar had oliver been, then an apothecary's journeyman and quack doctor, next a reader of proofs for richardson, the novelist and printer; after that a tormented and jaded usher at a peckham school; last, and worst of all, a hack writer of articles for griffith's _monthly review_, then being opposed by smollett in a rival publication. in green arbour court goldsmith spent the roughest part of the toilsome years before he became known to the world. there he formed an acquaintance with johnson and his set, and wrote essays for smollett's _british magazine_. wine office court is supposed to have derived its name from an office where licenses to sell wine were formerly issued. "in this court," says mr. noble, "once flourished a fig tree, planted a century ago by the vicar of st. bride's, who resided, with an absence of pride suitable, if not common, to christianity, at no. . it was a slip from another exile of a tree, formerly flourishing, in a sooty kind of grandeur, at the sign of the 'fig tree,' in fleet street. this tree was struck by lightning in , but slips from the growing stump were planted in , in various parts of england." the old-fashioned and changeless character of the "cheese," in whose low-roofed and sanded rooms goldsmith and johnson have so often hung up their cocked hats and sat down facing each other to a snug dinner, not unattended with punch, has been capitally sketched by a modern essayist, who possesses a thorough knowledge of the physiology of london. in an admirable paper entitled "brain street," mr. george augustus sala thus describes wine office court and the "cheshire cheese":-- "the vast establishments," says mr. sala, "of messrs. pewter & antimony, typefounders (alderman antimony was lord mayor in the year ' ); of messrs. quoin, case, & chappell, printers to the board of blue cloth; of messrs. cutedge & treecalf, bookbinders; with the smaller industries of scawper & tinttool, wood-engravers; and treacle, gluepot, & lampblack, printing-roller makers, are packed together in the upper part of the court as closely as herrings in a cask. the 'cheese' is at the brain street end. it is a little lop-sided, wedged-up house, that always reminds you, structurally, of a high-shouldered man with his hands in his pockets. it is full of holes and corners and cupboards and sharp turnings; and in ascending the stairs to the tiny smoking-room you must tread cautiously, if you would not wish to be tripped up by plates and dishes, momentarily deposited there by furious waiters. the waiters at the 'cheese' are always furious. old customers abound in the comfortable old tavern, in whose sanded-floored eating-rooms a new face is a rarity; and the guests and the waiters are the oldest of familiars. yet the waiter seldom fails to bite your nose off as a preliminary measure when you proceed to pay him. how should it be otherwise when on that waiter's soul there lies heavy a perpetual sense of injury caused by the savoury odour of steaks, and 'muts' to follow; of cheese-bubbling in tiny tins--the 'specialty' of the house; of floury potatoes and fragrant green peas; of cool salads, and cooler tankards of bitter beer; of extra-creaming stout and 'goes' of cork and 'rack,' by which is meant gin; and, in the winter-time, of irish stew and rump-steak pudding, glorious and grateful to every sense? to be compelled to run to and fro with these succulent viands from noon to late at night, without being able to spare time to consume them in comfort--where do waiters dine, and when, and how?--to be continually taking other people's money only for the purpose of handing it to other people--are not these grievances sufficient to cross-grain the temper of the mildest-mannered waiter? somebody is always in a passion at the 'cheese:' either a customer, because there is not fat enough on his 'point'-steak, or because there is too much bone in his mutton-chop; or else the waiter is wrath with the cook; or the landlord with the waiter, or the barmaid with all. yes, there is a barmaid at the 'cheese,' mewed up in a box not much bigger than a birdcage, surrounded by groves of lemons, 'ones' of cheese, punch-bowls, and cruets of mushroom-catsup. i should not care to dispute with her, lest she should quoit me over the head with a punch-ladle, having a william-the-third guinea soldered in the bowl. "let it be noted in candour that law finds its way to the 'cheese' as well as literature; but the law is, as a rule, of the non-combatant and, consequently, harmless order. literary men who have been called to the bar, but do not practise; briefless young barristers, who do not object to mingling with newspaper men; with a sprinkling of retired solicitors (amazing dogs these for old port-wine; the landlord has some of the same bin which served as hippocrene to judge blackstone when he wrote his 'commentaries')--these make up the legal element of the 'cheese.' sharp attorneys in practice are not popular there. there is a legend that a process-server once came in at a back door to serve a writ; but being detected by a waiter, was skilfully edged by that wary retainer into wine bottle court, right past the person on whom he was desirous to inflict the 'victoria, by the grace, &c.' once in the court, he was set upon by a mob of inky-faced boys just released from the works of messrs. ball, roller, & scraper, machine printers, and by the skin of his teeth only escaped being converted into 'pie.'" mr. william sawyer has also written a very admirable sketch of the "cheese" and its old-fashioned, conservative ways, which we cannot resist quoting:-- "we are a close, conservative, inflexible body--we, the regular frequenters of the 'cheddar,'" says mr. sawyer. "no new-fangled notions, new usages, new customs, or new customers for us. we have our history, our traditions, and our observances, all sacred and inviolable. look around! there is nothing new, gaudy, flippant, or effeminately luxurious here. a small room with heavily-timbered windows. a low planked ceiling. a huge, projecting fire-place, with a great copper boiler always on the simmer, the sight of which might have roused even old john willett, of the 'maypole,' to admiration. high, stiff-backed, inflexible 'settles,' hard and grainy in texture, box off the guests, half-a-dozen each to a table. sawdust covers the floor, giving forth that peculiar faint odour which the french avoid by the use of the vine sawdust with its pleasant aroma. the only ornament in which we indulge is a solitary picture over the mantelpiece, a full-length of a now departed waiter, whom in the long past we caused to be painted, by subscription of the whole room, to commemorate his virtues and our esteem. he is depicted in the scene of his triumphs--in the act of giving change to a customer. we sit bolt upright round our tables, waiting, but not impatient. a time-honoured solemnity is about to be observed, and we, the old stagers, is it for us to precipitate it? there are men in this room who have dined here every day for a quarter of a century--aye, the whisper goes that one man did it even on his wedding-day! in all that time the more staid and well-regulated among us have observed a steady regularity of feeding. five days in the week we have our 'rotherham steak'--that mystery of mysteries--or our 'chop and chop to follow,' with the indispensable wedge of cheddar--unless it is preferred stewed or toasted--and on saturday decorous variety is afforded in a plate of the world-renowned 'cheddar' pudding. it is of this latter luxury that we are now assembled to partake, and that with all fitting ceremony and observance. as we sit, like pensioners in hall, the silence is broken only by a strange sound, as of a hardly human voice, muttering cabalistic words, 'ullo mul lum de loodle wumble jum!' it cries, and we know that chops and potatoes are being ordered for some benighted outsider, ignorant of the fact that it is pudding-day." chapter xi. fleet street tributaries--shoe lane. the first lucifers--perkins' steam gun--a link between shakespeare and shoe lane--florio and his labours--"cogers' hall"--famous "cogers"--a saturday night's debate--gunpowder alley--richard lovelace, the cavalier poet--"to althea, from prison"--lilly the astrologer, and his knaveries--a search for treasure with davy ramsay--hogarth in harp alley--the "society of sign painters"--hudson, the song writer--"jack robinson"--the bishop's residence--bangor house--a strange story of unstamped newspapers--chatterton's death--curious legend of his burial--a well-timed joke. at the east corner of peterborough court (says mr. timbs) was one of the earliest shops for the instantaneous light apparatus, "hertner's eupyrion" (phosphorus and oxymuriate matches, to be dipped in sulphuric acid and asbestos), the costly predecessor of the lucifer match. nearly opposite were the works of jacob perkins, the engineer of the steam gun exhibited at the adelaide gallery, strand, and which the duke of wellington truly foretold would never be advantageously employed in battle. one golden thread of association links shakespeare to shoe lane. slight and frail is the thread, yet it has a double strand. in this narrow side-aisle of fleet street, in , lived john florio, the compiler of our first italian dictionary. now it is more than probable that our great poet knew this industrious italian, as we shall presently show. florio was a waldensian teacher, no doubt driven to england by religious persecution. he taught french and italian with success at oxford, and finally was appointed tutor to that generous-minded, hopeful, and unfortunate prince henry, son of james i. florio's "worlde of wordes" (a most copious and exact dictionary in italian and english) was printed in , and published by arnold hatfield for edward church, and "sold at his shop over against the north door of paul's church." it is dedicated to "the right honourable patrons of virtue, patterns of honour, roger earle of rutland, henrie earle of southampton, and lucie countess of bedford." in the dedication, worthy of the fantastic author of "euphues" himself, the author says:--"my hope springs out of three stems--your honours' naturall benignitie; your able emploiment of such servitours; and the towardly like-lie-hood of this springall to do you honest service. the first, to vouchsafe all; the second, to accept this; the third, to applie it selfe to the first and second. of the first, your birth, your place, and your custome; of the second, your studies, your conceits, and your exercise; of the thirde, my endeavours, my proceedings, and my project giues assurance. your birth, highly noble, more than gentle; your place, above others, as in degree, so in height of bountie, and other vertues; your custome, never wearie of well doing; your studies much in all, most in italian excellence; your conceits, by understanding others to worke above them in your owne; your exercise, to reade what the world's best writers have written, and to speake as they write. my endeavour, to apprehend the best, if not all; my proceedings, to impart my best, first to your honours, then to all that emploie me; my proiect in this volume to comprehend the best and all, in truth, i acknowledge an entyre debt, not only of my best knowledge, but of all, yea, of more than i know or can, to your bounteous lordship, most noble, most vertuous, and most honorable earle of southampton, in whose paie and patronage i haue liued some yeeres; to whom i owe and vowe the yeeres i haue to live.... good parts imparted are not empaired; your springs are first to serue yourself, yet may yeelde your neighbours sweete water; your taper is to light you first, and yet it may light your neighbour's candle.... accepting, therefore, of the childe, i hope your honors' wish as well to the father, who to your honors' all deuoted wisheth meede of your merits, renowne of your vertues, and health of your persons, humblie with gracious leave kissing your thrice-honored hands, protesteth to continue euer your honors' most humble and bounden in true seruice, john florio." and now to connect florio with shakespeare. the industrious savoyard, besides his dictionary--of great use at a time when the tour to italy was a necessary completion of a rich gallant's education--translated the essays of that delightful old gascon egotist, montaigne. now in a copy of florio's "montaigne" there was found some years ago one of the very few genuine shakespeare signatures. moreover, as florio speaks of the earl of southampton as his steady patron, we may fairly presume that the great poet, who must have been constantly at southampton's house, often met there the old italian master. may not the bard in those conversations have perhaps gathered some hints for the details of _cymbeline_, _romeo and juliet_, _othello_, or _the two gentlemen of verona_, and had his attention turned by the old scholar to fresh chapters of italian story? no chronicle of shoe lane would be complete without some mention of the "cogers' discussion hall," formerly at no. . this useful debating society--a great resort for local politicians--was founded by mr. daniel mason as long ago as , and among its most eminent members it glories in the names of john wilkes, judge keogh, daniel o'connell, and the eloquent curran. the word "coger" does not imply codger, or a drinker of cogs, but comes from _cogite_, to cogitate. the grand, vice-grand, and secretary were elected on the night of every th of june by show of hands. the room was open to strangers, but the members had the right to speak first. the society was republican in the best sense, for side by side with master tradesmen, shopmen, and mechanics, reporters and young barristers gravely sipped their grog, and abstractedly emitted wreathing columns of tobacco-smoke from their pipes. mr. j. parkinson has sketched the little parliament very pleasantly in the columns of a contemporary. "a long low room," says the writer, "like the saloon of a large steamer. wainscoat dimmed and ornaments tarnished by tobacco-smoke and the lingering dews of steaming compounds. a room with large niches at each end, like shrines for full-grown saints, one niche containing 'my grand' in a framework of shabby gold, the other 'my grand's deputy' in a bordering more substantial. more than one hundred listeners are wating patiently for my grand's utterances this saturday night, and are whiling away the time philosophically with bibulous and nicotian refreshment. the narrow tables of the long room are filled with students and performers, and quite a little crowd is congregated at the door and in a room adjacent until places can be found for them in the presence-chamber. 'established ' is inscribed on the ornamental signboard above us, and 'instituted ' on another signboard near. dingy portraits of departed grands and deputies decorate the walls. punctually at nine my grand opens the proceedings amid profound silence. the deputy buries himself in his newspaper, and maintains as profound a calm as the speaker 'in another place.' the most perfect order is preserved. the speaker or deputy, who seems to know all about it, rolls silently in his chair: he is a fat dark man, with a small and rather sleepy eye, such as i have seen come to the surface and wink lazily at the fashionable people clustered round a certain tank in the zoological gardens. he re-folds his newspaper from time to time until deep in the advertisements. the waiters silently remove empty tumblers and tankards, and replace them full. but my grand commands profound attention from the room, and a neighbour, who afterwards proved a perfect boanerges in debate, whispered to us concerning his vast attainments and high literary position. "this chieftain of the thoughtful men is, we learn, the leading contributor to a newspaper of large circulation, and, under his signature of 'locksley hall,' rouses the sons of toil to a sense of the dignity and rights of labour, and exposes the profligacy and corruption of the rich to the extent of a column and a quarter every week. a shrewd, hard-headed man of business, with a perfect knowledge of what he had to do, and with a humorous twinkle of the eye, my grand went steadily through his work, and gave the thoughtful men his epitome of the week's intelligence. it seemed clear that the cogers had either not read the newspapers, or liked to be told what they already knew. they listened with every token of interest to facts which had been published for days, and it seemed difficult to understand how a debate could be carried on when the text admitted so little dispute. but we sadly underrated the capacity of the orators near us. the sound of my grand's last sentence had not died out when a fresh-coloured, rather aristocratic-looking elderly man, whose white hair was carefully combed and smoothed, and whose appearance and manner suggested a very different arena to the one he waged battle in now, claimed the attention of the thoughtful ones. addressing 'mee grand' in the rich and unctuous tones which a scotchman and englishman might try for in vain, this orator proceeded, with every profession of respect, to contradict most of the chief's statements, to ridicule his logic, and to compliment him with much irony on his overwhelming goodness to the society 'to which i have the honour to belong. full of that hard _northern_ logic' (much emphasis on 'northern,' which was warmly accepted as a hit by the room)--'that hard northern logic which demonstrates everything to its own satisfaction; abounding in that talent which makes you, sir, a leader in politics, a guide in theology, and generally an instructor of the people; yet even you, sir, are perhaps, if i may say so, somewhat deficient in the lighter graces of pathos and humour. your speech, sir, has commanded the attention of the room. its close accuracy of style, its exactitude of expression, its consistent argument, and its generally transcendant ability will exercise, i doubt not, an influence which will extend far beyond this chamber, filled as this chamber is by gentlemen of intellect and education, men of the time, who both think and feel, and who make their feelings and their thoughts felt by others. still, sir,' and the orator smiles the smile of ineffable superiority, 'grateful as the members of the society you have so kindly alluded to ought to be for your countenance and patronage, it needed not' (turning to the thoughtful men generally, with a sarcastic smile)--'it needed not even mee grand's encomiums to endear this society to its people, and to strengthen their belief in its efficacy in time of trouble, its power to help, to relieve, and to assuage. no, mee grand, an authoritee whose dictum even you will accept without dispute--mee lord macaulee--that great historian whose undying pages record those struggles and trials of constitutionalism in which the cogers have borne no mean part--me lord macaulee mentions, with a respect and reverence not exceeded by mee grand's utterances of to-night' (more smiles of mock humility to the room) 'that great association which claims me as an unworthy son. we could, therefore, have dispensed with the recognition given us by mee grand; we could afford to wait our time until the nations of the earth are fused by one common wish for each other's benefit, when the principles of cogerism are spread over the civilised world, when justice reigns supreme, and loving-kindness takes the place of jealousy and hate.' we looked round the room while these fervid words were being triumphantly rolled forth, and were struck with the calm impassiveness of the listeners. there seemed to be no partisanship either for the speaker or the grand. once, when the former was more than usually emphatic in his denunciations, a tall pale man, with a shakespeare forehead, rose suddenly, with a determined air, as if about to fiercely interrupt; but it turned out he only wanted to catch the waiter's eye, and this done, he pointed silently to his empty glass, and remarked, in a hoarse whisper, 'without sugar, as before.'" [illustration: cogers' hall (_see page _).] gunpowder alley, a side-twig of shoe lane, leads us to the death-bed of an unhappy poet, poor richard lovelace, the cavalier, who, dying here two years before the "blessed" restoration, in a very mean lodging, was buried at the west end of st. bride's church. the son of a knight, and brought up at oxford, anthony wood describes the gallant and hopeful lad at sixteen, when presented at the court of charles i., as "the most amiable and beautiful youth that eye ever beheld. a person, also, of innate modesty, virtue, and courtly deportment, which made him then, but specially after, when he retired to the great city, much admired and adored by the female sex." presenting a daring petition from kent in favour of the king, the cavalier poet was thrown into prison by the long parliament, and was released only to waste his fortune in royalist plots. he served in the french army, raised a regiment for louis xiii., and was left for dead at dunkirk. on his return to england, he found lucy sacheverell--his "lucretia," the lady of his love--married, his death having been reported. all went ill. he was again imprisoned, grew penniless, had to borrow, and fell into a consumption from despair for love and loyalty. "having consumed all his estate," says anthony wood, "he grew very melancholy, which at length brought him into a consumption; became very poor in body and purse, was the object of charity, went in ragged clothes (whereas when he was in his glory he wore cloth of gold and silver), and mostly lodged in obscure and dirty places, more befitting the worst of beggars than poorest of servants." there is a doubt, however, as to whether lovelace died in such abject poverty, poor, dependent, and unhappy as he might have been. lovelace's verse is often strained, affected, and wanting in judgment; but at times he mounts a bright-winged pegasus, and with plume and feather flying, tosses his hand up, gay and chivalrous as rupert's bravest. his verses to lucy sacheverell, on leaving her for the french camp, are worthy of montrose himself. the last two lines-- "i could not love thee, dear, so much, lov'd i not honour more"-- contain the thirty-nine articles of a soldier's faith. and what wildrake could have sung in the gate house or the compter more gaily of liberty than lovelace, when he wrote,-- "stone walls do not a prison make, nor iron bars a cage; minds innocent and quiet take that for a hermitage. if i have freedom in my love, and in my soul am free, angels alone, that soar above, enjoy such liberty"? [illustration: lovelace in prison (_see page _).] whenever we read the verse that begins,-- "when love, with unconfinèd wings, hovers within my gates, and my divine althea brings, to whisper at my grates," the scene rises before us--we see a fair pale face, with its aureole of golden hair gleaming between the rusty bars of the prison door, and the worn visage of the wounded cavalier turning towards it as the flower turns to the sun. and surely master wildrake himself, with his glass of sack half-way to his mouth, never put it down to sing a finer royalist stave than lovelace's "to althea, from prison,"-- "when, linnet-like, confined, i with shriller note shall sing the mercy, sweetness, majesty, and glories of my king; when i shall voice aloud how good he is, how great should be, th' enlarged winds that curl the flood know no such liberty." in the cromwell times there resided in gunpowder alley, probably to the scorn of poor dying lovelace, that remarkable cheat and early medium, lilly the astrologer, the sidrophel of "hudibras." this rascal, who supplied the king and parliament alternately with equally veracious predictions, was in youth apprenticed to a mantua-maker in the strand, and on his master's death married his widow. lilly studied astrology under one evans, an ex-clergyman, who told fortunes in gunpowder alley. besotted by the perusal of cornelius agrippa and other such trash, lilly, found fools plenty, and the stars, though potent in their spheres, unable to contradict his lies. this artful cheat was consulted as to the most propitious day and hour for charles's escape from carisbrook, and was even sent for by the puritan generals to encourage their men before colchester. lilly was a spy of the parliament, yet at the restoration professed to disclose the fact that cornet joyce had beheaded charles. whenever his predictions or his divining-rod failed, he always attributed his failures, as the modern spiritualists, the successors of the old wizards, still conveniently do, to want of faith in the spectators. by means of his own shrewdness, rather than by stellar influence, lilly obtained many useful friends, among whom we may specially particularise the king of sweden, lenthal the puritan speaker, bulstrode whitelocke (cromwell's minister), and the learned but credulous elias ashmole. lilly's almanac, the predecessor of moore's and zadkiel's, was carried on by him for six-and-thirty years. he claimed to be a special _protégé_ of an angel called salmonæus, and to have a more than bowing acquaintance with salmael and malchidael, the guardian angels of england. among his works are his autobiography, and his "observations on the life and death of charles, late king of england." the rest of his effusions are pretentious, mystical, muddle-headed rubbish, half nonsense half knavery, as "the white king's prophecy," "supernatural light," "the starry messenger," and "annus tenebrosus, or the black year." the rogue's starry mantle descended on his adopted son, a tailor, whom he named merlin, junior. the credulity of the atheistical times of charles ii. is only equalled by that of our own day. lilly himself, in his amusing, half-knavish autobiography, has described his first introduction to the welsh astrologer of gunpowder alley:-- "it happened," he says, "on one sunday, , as myself and a justice of peace's clerk were, before service, discoursing of many things, he chanced to say that such a person was a great scholar--nay, so learned that he could make an almanac, which to me then was strange; one speech begot another, till, at last, he said he could bring me acquainted with one evans, in gunpowder alley, who had formerly lived in staffordshire, that was an excellent wise man, and studied the black art. the same week after we went to see mr. evans. when we came to his house, he, having been drunk the night before, was upon his bed, if it be lawful to call that a bed whereon he then lay. he roused up himself, and after some compliments he was content to instruct me in astrology. i attended his best opportunities for seven or eight weeks, in which time i could set a figure perfectly. books he had not any, except haly, 'de judiciis astrorum,' and orriganus's 'ephemerides;' so that as often as i entered his house i thought i was in the wilderness. now, something of the man. he was by birth a welshman, a master of arts, and in sacred orders. he had formerly had a cure of souls in staffordshire, but now was come to try his fortunes at london, being in a manner enforced to fly, for some offences very scandalous committed by him in those parts where he had lately lived; for he gave judgment upon things lost, the only shame of astrology. he was the most saturnine person my eye ever beheld, either before i practised or since; of a middle stature, broad forehead, beetle-browed, thick shoulders, flat-nosed, full lips, down-looked, black, curling, stiff hair, splay-footed. to give him his right, he had the most piercing judgment naturally upon a figure of theft, and many other questions, that i ever met withal; yet for money he would willingly give contrary judgments; was much addicted to debauchery, and then very abusive and quarrelsome; seldom without a black eye or one mischief or other. this is the same evans who made so many antimonial cups, upon the sale whereof he chiefly subsisted. he understood latin very well, the greek tongue not all; he had some arts above and beyond astrology, for he was well versed in the nature of spirits, and had many times used the circular way of invocating, as in the time of our familiarity he told me." one of lilly's most impudent attempts to avail himself of demoniacal assistance was when he dug for treasure (like scott's dousterswivel) with david ramsay (scott again), one stormy night, in the cloisters at westminster. "davy ramsay," says the arch rogue, "his majesty's clockmaker, had been informed that there was a great quantity of treasure buried in the cloisters of westminster abbey; he acquaints dean williams therewith, who was also then bishop of lincoln; the dean gave him liberty to search after it, with this proviso, that if any was discovered his church should have a share of it. davy ramsay finds out one john scott,[ ] who pretended the use of the mosaical rods, to assist him therein. i was desired to join with him, unto which i consented. one winter's night davy ramsay,[ ] with several gentlemen, myself, and scott, entered the cloisters; upon the west side of the cloisters the rods turned one over another, an argument that the treasure was there. the labourers digged at least six feet deep, and then we met with a coffin, but in regard it was not heavy, we did not open, which we afterwards much repented. from the cloisters we went into the abbey church, where upon a sudden (there being no wind when we began) so fierce, so high, so blustering and loud a wind did rise, that we verily believed the west-end of the church would have fallen upon us; our rods would not move at all; the candles and torches, all but one, were extinguished, or burned very dimly. john scott, my partner, was amazed, looked pale, knew not what to think or do, until i gave directions and command to dismiss the demons, which when done all was quiet again, and each man returned unto his lodging late, about twelve o'clock at night. i could never since be induced to join with any in such-like actions. "the true miscarriage of the business was by reason of so many people being present at the operation, for there was about thirty--some laughing, others deriding us; so that if we had not dismissed the demons, i believe most part of the abbey church had been blown down. secrecy and intelligent operators, with a strong confidence and knowledge of what they are doing, are best for this work." in the last century, when every shop had its sign and london streets were so many out-of-door picture-galleries, a dutchman named vandertrout opened a manufactory of these pictorial advertisements in harp alley, shoe lane, a dirty passage now laid open to the sun and air on the east side of the new transverse street running from ludgate hill to holborn. in ridicule of the spurious black, treacly old masters then profusely offered for sale by the picture-dealers of the day, hogarth and bonnell thornton opened an exhibition of shop-signs. in nicholls and stevens' "life of hogarth" there is a full and racy account of this sarcastic exhibition:--"at the entrance of the large passage-room was written, 'n.b. that the merit of the _modern masters_ may be fairly examined into, it has been thought proper to place some admired works of the most eminent _old masters_ in this room, and along the passage through the yard.' among these are 'a barge' in still life, by vandertrout. he cannot be properly called an english artist; but not being sufficiently encouraged in his own country, he left holland with william the third, and was the first artist who settled in harp alley. an original half-length of camden, the great historian and antiquary, in his herald's coat; by vandertrout. as this artist was originally colour-grinder to hans holbein, it is conjectured there are some of that great master's touches in this piece. 'nobody, _alias_ somebody,' a character. (the figure of an officer, all head, arms, legs, and thighs. this piece has a very odd effect, being so drolly executed that you do not miss the body.) 'somebody, _alias_ nobody,' a caricature, its companion; both these by hagarty. (a rosy figure, with a little head and a huge body, whose belly sways over almost quite down to his shoe-buckles. by the staff in his hand, it appears to be intended to represent a constable. it might else have been intended for an eminent justice of peace.) 'a perspective view of billingsgate, or lectures on elocution;' and 'the true robin hood society, a conversation or lectures on elocution,' its companion; these two by barnsley. (these two strike at a famous lecturer on elocution and the reverend projector of a rhetorical academy, are admirably conceived and executed, and--the latter more especially--almost worthy the hand of hogarth. they are full of a variety of droll figures, and seem, indeed, to be the work of a great master struggling to suppress his superiority of genius, and endeavouring to paint _down_ to the common style and manner of sign-painting.) "at the entrance to the _grand room_:--'the society of sign painters take this opportunity of refuting a most malicious suggestion that their exhibition is designed as a ridicule on the exhibitions of the society for the encouragement of arts, &c., and of the artists. they intend theirs only as an appendix or (in the style of painters) a companion to the other. there is nothing in their collection which will be understood by any candid person as a reflection on anybody, or any body of men. they are not in the least prompted by any mean jealousy to depreciate the merit of their brother artists. animated by the same public spirit, their sole view is to convince foreigners, as well as their own blinded countrymen, that however inferior this nation may be unjustly deemed in other branches of the polite arts, the palm for sign-painting must be ceded to _us_, the dutch themselves not excepted.' projected in by mr. bonnel thornton, of festive memory; but i am informed that he contributed no otherwise towards this display than by a few touches of chalk. among the heads of distinguished personages, finding those of the king of prussia and the empress of hungary, he changed the cast of their eyes, so as to make them leer significantly at each other. note.--these (which in the catalogue are called an original portrait of the present emperor of prussia and ditto of the empress queen of hungary, its antagonist) were two old signs of the "saracen's head" and queen anne. under the first was written 'the zarr,' and under the other 'the empress quean.' they were lolling their tongues out at each other; and over their heads ran a wooden label, inscribed, 'the present state of europe.' "in was published, in quarto, undated, 'a catalogue of the original paintings, busts, and carved figures, &c. &c., now exhibiting by the society of sign-painters, at the large room, the upper end of bow street, covent garden, nearly opposite the playhouse.'" at , shoe lane lived, now some fifty years ago, a tobacconist named hudson, a great humorist, a fellow of infinite fancy, and the writer of half the comic songs that once amused festive london. hudson afterwards, we believe, kept the "kean's head" tavern, in russell court, drury lane, and about had a shop of some kind or other in museum street, bloomsbury. hudson was one of those professional song-writers and vocalists who used to be engaged to sing at such supper-rooms and theatrical houses as offley's, in henrietta street (north-west end), covent garden; the "coal hole," in the strand; and the "cider cellars," maiden lane. sitting among the company, hudson used to get up at the call of the chairman and "chant" one of his lively and really witty songs. the platform belongs to "evans's" and a later period. hudson was at his best long after captain morris's day, and at the time when moore's melodies were popular. many of the melodies hudson parodied very happily, and with considerable tact and taste. many of hudson's songs, such as "jack robinson" (infinitely funnier than most of dibdin's), became coined into catch-words and street sayings of the day. "before you could say jack robinson" is a phrase, still current, derived from this highly droll song. the verse in which jack robinson's "engaged" apologises for her infidelity is as good as anything that james smith ever wrote. to the returned sailor,-- "says the lady, says she, 'i've changed my state.' 'why, you don't mean,' says jack, 'that you've got a mate? you know you promised me.' says she, 'i couldn't wait, for no tidings could i gain of you, jack robinson. and somebody one day came to me and said that somebody else had somewhere read, in some newspaper, that you was somewhere dead.'-- 'i've not been dead at all,' says jack robinson." another song, "the spider and the fly," is still often sung; and "going to coronation" is by no means forgotten in yorkshire. "there was a man in the west countrie" figures in most current collections of songs. hudson particularly excelled in stage-irishman songs, which were then popular; and some of these, particularly one that ends with the refrain, "my brogue and my blarney and bothering ways," have real humour in them. many of these irish songs were written for and sung by the late mr. fitzwilliam, the comedian, as others of hudson's songs were by mr. rayner. collectors of comic ditties will not readily forget "walker, the twopenny postman," or "the dogs'-meat man"--rough caricatures of low life, unstained by the vulgarity of many of the modern music-hall ditties. in the motto to one of his collections of poems, hudson borrows from churchill an excuse for the rough, humorous effusions that he scattered broadcast over the town,-- "when the mad fit comes on, i seize the pen, rough as they run, the rapid thoughts set down; rough as they run, discharge them on the town. hence rude, unfinished brats, before their time, are born into this idle world of rhyme; and the poor slattern muse is brought to bed, with all her imperfections on her head." we subjoin a very good specimen of hudson's songs, from his once very popular "coronation of william and adelaide" ( ), which, we think, will be allowed to fully justify our praise of the author:-- "and when we got to town, quite tired, the bells all rung, the guns they fired, the people looking all bemired, in one conglomeration. soldiers red, policemen blue, horse-guards, foot-guards, and blackguards too, beef-eaters, dukes, and lord knows who, to see the coronation. while dolly bridled up, so proud, at us the people laughed aloud; dobbin stood in thickest crowd, wi' quiet resignation. to move again he warn't inclined; 'here's a chap!' says one behind, 'he's brought an old horse, lame and blind, to see the coronation.' dolly cried, 'oh! dear, oh! dear, i wish i never had come here, to suffer every jibe and jeer, in such a situation.' while so busy, she and i to get a little ease did try, by goles! the king and queen went by, and all the coronation. i struggled hard, and dolly cried; and tho' to help myself i tried, we both were carried with the tide, against our inclination. 'the reign's begun!' folks cried; ''tis true;' 'sure,' said dolly, 'i think so too; the rain's begun, for i'm wet thro', all through the coronation.' we bade good-bye to lunnun town; the king and queen they gain'd a crown; dolly spoilt her bran-new gown, to her mortification. i'll drink our king and queen wi' glee, in home-brewed ale, and so will she; but doll and i ne'er want to see another coronation." our english bishops, who had not the same taste as the cistercians in selecting pleasant places for their habitations, seem during the middle ages to have much affected the neighbourhood of fleet street. ely place still marks the residence of one rich prelate. in chichester rents we have already met with the humble successors of the netmaker of galilee. in a siding on the north-west side of shoe lane the bishops of bangor lived, with their spluttering and choleric welsh retinue, as early as . recent improvements have laid open the miserable "close" called bangor court, that once glowed with the reflections of scarlet hoods and jewelled copes; and a schoolhouse of bastard tudor architecture, with sham turrets and flimsy mullioned windows, now occupies the site of the proud christian prelate's palace. bishop dolben, who died in (charles i.), was the last welsh bishop who deigned to reside in a neighbourhood from which wealth and fashion was fast ebbing. brayley says that a part of the old episcopal garden, where the ecclesiastical subjects of centuries had been discussed by shaven men and frocked scholars, still existed in (george ii.); and, indeed, as mr. jesse records, even as late as (george iv.) a portion of the old mansion, once redolent with the stupefying incense of the semi-pagan church, still lingered. bangor house, according to mr. j.t. smith, is mentioned in the patent rolls as early as edward iii. the lawyers' barbarous dog-latin of the old-deed describe, "unum messuag, unum placeam terræ, ac unam gardniam, cum aliis edificis," in shoe lane, london. in (charles i.) sir john birkstead purchased of the parliamentary trustees the bishop's lands, that had probably been confiscated, to build streets upon the site. but sir john went on paving the old place, and never built at all. cromwell's act of , to check the increase of london, entailed a special exemption in his favour. at the restoration, the land returned to its welsh bishop; but it had degenerated--the palace was divided into several residences, and mean buildings sprang up like fungi around it. a drawing of malcolm's, early in the century, shows us its two tudor windows. latterly it became divided into wretched rooms, and two as three hundred poor people, chiefly irish, herded in them. the house was entirely pulled down in the autumn of . [illustration: bangor house, (_see page _).] mr. grant, that veteran of the press, tells a capital story, in his "history of the newspaper press," of one of the early vendors of unstamped newspapers in shoe lane:-- "_cleaves police gazette_," says mr. grant, "consisted chiefly of reports of police cases. it certainly was a newspaper to all intents and purposes, and was ultimately so declared to be in a court of law by a jury. but in the meantime, while the action was pending, the police had instructions to arrest mr. john cleave, the proprietor, and seize all the copies of the paper as they came out of his office in shoe lane. he contrived for a time to elude their vigilance; and in order to prevent the seizure of his paper, he resorted to an expedient which was equally ingenious and laughable. close by his little shop in shoe lane there was an undertaker, whose business, as might be inferred from the neighbourhood, as well as from his personal appearance and the homeliness of his shop, was exclusively among the lower and poorer classes of the community. with him mr. cleave made an arrangement to construct several coffins of the plainest and cheapest kind, for purposes which were fully explained. the 'undertaker,' whose ultra-republican principles were in perfect unison with those of mr. cleave, not only heartily undertook the work, but did so on terms so moderate that he would not ask for nor accept any profit. he, indeed, could imagine no higher nor holier duty than that of assisting in the dissemination of a paper which boldly and energetically preached the extinction of the aristocracy and the perfect equality in social position, and in property too, of all classes of the community. accordingly the coffins, with a rudeness in make and material which were in perfect keeping with the purpose to which they were to be applied, were got ready; and mr. cleave, in the dead of night, got them filled with thousands of his _gazettes_. it had been arranged beforehand that particular houses in various parts of the town should be in readiness to receive them with blinds down, as if some relative had been dead, and was about to be borne away to the house appointed for all living. the deal coffin was opened, and the contents were taken out, tied up in a parcel so as to conceal from the prying curiosity of any chance person that they were _cleave's police gazettes_, and then sent off to the railway stations most convenient for their transmission to the provinces. the coffins after this were returned in the middle of next night to the 'undertaker's' in shoe lane, there to be in readiness to render a similar service to mr. cleave and the cause of red republicanism when the next _gazette_ appeared." [illustration: old st. dunstan's church (_see page _).] "in this way mr. cleave contrived for some time to elude the vigilance of the police and to sell about , copies weekly of each impression of his paper. but the expedient, ingenious and eminently successful as it was for a time, failed at last. the people in shoe lane and the neighbourhood began to be surprised and alarmed at the number of funerals, as they believed them to be, which the departure of so many coffins from the 'undertaker's' necessarily implied. the very natural conclusion to which they came was, that this supposed sudden and extensive number of deaths could only be accounted for on the assumption that some fatal epidemic had visited the neighbourhood, and there made itself a local habitation. the parochial authorities, responding to the prevailing alarm, questioned the 'undertaker' friend and fellow-labourer of mr. cleave as to the causes of his sudden and extensive accession of business in the coffin-making way; and the result of the close questions put to him was the discovery of the whole affair. it need hardly be added that an immediate and complete collapse took place in mr. cleave's business, so far as his _police gazette_ was concerned. not another number of the publication ever made its appearance, while the coffin-trade of the 'undertaker' all at once returned to its normal proportions." this stratagem of cleave's was rivalled a few years ago by m. herzen's clever plan of sending great numbers of his treasonable and forbidden paper, the _kolokol_, to russia, soldered up in sardine-boxes. no government, in fact, can ever baffle determined and ingenious smugglers. one especially sad association attaches to shoe lane, and that is the burial in the workhouse graveyard (the site of the late farringdon market) of that unhappy child of genius, chatterton the poet. in august, , the poor lad, who had come from bristol full of hope and ambition to make his fortune in london by his pen, broken-hearted and maddened by disappointment, destroyed himself in his mean garret-lodging in brooke street, holborn, by swallowing arsenic. mr. john dix, his very unscrupulous biographer, has noted down a curious legend about the possible removal of the poet's corpse from london to bristol, which, doubtful as it is, is at least interesting as a possibility:-- "i found," says mr. dix, "that mrs. stockwell, of peter street, wife of mr. stockwell, a basket-maker, was the person who had communicated to sir r. wilmot her grounds for believing chatterton to have been so interred; and on my requesting her to repeat to me what she knew of that affair, she commenced by informing me that at ten years of age she was a scholar of mrs. chatterton, his mother, where she was taught plain work, and remained with her until she was near twenty years of age; that she slept with her, and found her kind and motherly, insomuch that there were many things which in moments of affliction mrs. c. communicated to her, that she would not have wished to have been generally known; and among others, she often repeated how happy she was that her unfortunate son lay buried in redcliff, through the kind attention of a friend or relation in london, who, after the body had been cased in a parish shell, had it properly secured and sent to her by the waggon; that when it arrived it was opened, and the corpse found to be black and half putrid (having been burst with the motion of the carriage, or from some other cause), so that it became necessary to inter it speedily; and that it was early interred by phillips, the sexton, who was of her family. that the effect of the loss of her son was a nervous disorder, which never quitted her, and she was often seen weeping at the bitter remembrance of her misfortune. she described the poet as having been sharp-tempered, but that it was soon over; and she often said he had cost her many uneasy hours, from the apprehension she entertained of his going mad, as he was accustomed to remain fixed for above an hour at a time quite motionless, and then he would snatch up a pen and write incessantly; but he was always, she added, affectionate.... "in addition to this, mrs. stockwell told the writer that the grave was on the right-hand side of the lime-tree, middle paved walk, in redcliff churchyard, about twenty feet from the father's grave, which is, she says, in the paved walk, and where now mrs. chatterton and mrs. newton, her daughter, also lie. also, that mrs. chatterton gave a person leave to bury his child over her son's coffin, and was much vexed to find that he afterwards put the stone over it, which, when chatterton was buried, had been taken up for the purpose of digging the grave, and set against the church-wall; that afterwards, when mr. hutchinson's or mr. taylor's wife died, they buried her also in the same grave, and put this stone over with a new inscription. (query, did he erase the first, or turn the stone?--as this might lead to a discovery of the spot.).... "being referred to mrs. jane phillips, of rolls alley, rolls lane, great gardens, temple parish (who is sister to that richard phillips who was sexton at redcliff church in the year ), she informed me that his widow and a daughter were living in cathay; the widow is sexton, a mr. perrin, of colston's parade, acting for her. she remembers chatterton having been at his father's school, and that he always called richard phillips, her brother, 'uncle,' and was much liked by him. he liked him for his spirit, and there can be no doubt he would have risked the privately burying him on that account. when she heard he was gone to london she was sorry to hear it, for all loved him, and thought he could get no good there. "soon after his death her brother, r. phillips, told her that poor chatterton had killed himself; on which she said she would go to madame chatterton's, to know the rights of it; but that he forbade her, and said, if she did so he should be sorry he had told her. she, however, did go, and asking if it was true that he was dead, mrs. chatterton began to weep bitterly, saying, 'my son indeed is dead!' and when she asked her where he was buried, she replied, 'ask me nothing; he is dead and buried.'" poppin's court (no. ) marks the site of the ancient hostel (hotel) of the abbots of cirencester--though what they did there, when they ought to have been on their knees in their own far-away gloucestershire abbey, history does not choose to record. the sign of their inn was the "poppingaye" (popinjay, parrot), and in (last year of elizabeth) the alley was called poppingay alley. that excellent man van mildert (then a poor curate, living in ely place, afterwards bishop of durham--a prelate remarkable for this above all his many other christian virtues, that he was not proud) was once driven into this alley with a young barrister friend by a noisy illumination-night crowd. the street boys began firing a volley of squibs at the young curate, who found all hope of escape barred, and dreaded the pickpockets, who take rapid advantage of such temporary embarrassments; but his good-natured exclamation, "ah! here you are, popping away in poppin's court!" so pleased the crowd that they at once laughingly opened a passage for him. "sic me servavit, apollo," he used afterwards to add when telling the story. footnotes: [ ] "this scott lived in pudding lane, and had some time been a page (or such-like) to the lord norris." [ ] "davy ramsay brought a half-quartern sack to put the treasure in." chapter xii. fleet street tributaries south. worthy mr. fisher--lamb's wednesday evenings--persons one would wish to have seen--ram alley--serjeants' inn--the _daily news_--"memory" woodfall--a mug-house riot--richardson's printing office--fielding and richardson--johnson's estimate of richardson--hogarth and richardson's guest--an egotist rebuked--the king's "housewife"--caleb colton: his life, works, and sentiments. falcon court, fleet street, took its name from an inn which bore the sign of the "falcon." this passage formerly belonged to a gentleman named fisher, who, out of gratitude to the cordwainers' company, bequeathed it to them by will. his gratitude is commonly said to have arisen from the number of good dinners that the company had given him. however this may be, the cordwainers are the present owners of the estate, and are under the obligation of having a sermon preached annually at the neighbouring church of st. dunstan, on the th of july, when certain sums are given to the poor. formerly it was the custom to drink sack in the church to the pious memory of mr. fisher, but this appears to have been discontinued for a considerable period. this fisher was a jolly fellow, if all the tales are true which are related of him, as, besides the sack drinking, he stipulated that the cordwainers should give a grand feast on the same day yearly to all their tenants. what a quaint picture might be made of the churchwardens in the old church drinking to the memory of mr. fisher! wynkyn de worde, the father of printing in england, lived in fleet street, at his messuage or inn known by the sign of the falcon. whether it was the inn that stood on the site of falcon court is not known with certainty, but most probably it was. charles lamb came to , mitre court buildings in , after leaving southampton buildings, and remained in that quiet harbour out of fleet street till , when he removed to inner temple lane. it was whilst lamb was residing in mitre court buildings that those wednesday evenings of his were in their glory. in two of mr. hazlitt's papers are graphic pictures of these delightful wednesdays and the wednesday men, and admirable notes of several choice conversations. there is a curious sketch in one of a little tilt between coleridge and holcroft, which must not be omitted. "coleridge was riding the high german horse, and demonstrating the 'categories of the transcendental philosophy' to the author of _the road to ruin_, who insisted on his knowledge of german and german metaphysics, having read the 'critique of pure reason' in the original. 'my dear mr. holcroft,' said coleridge, in a tone of infinitely provoking conciliation, 'you really put me in mind of a sweet pretty german girl of about fifteen, in the hartz forest, in germany, and who one day, as i was reading "the limits of the knowable and the unknowable," the profoundest of all his works, with great attention, came behind my chair, and leaning over, said, "what! you read kant? why, i, that am a german born, don't understand him!"' this was too much to bear, and holcroft, starting up, called out, in no measured tone, 'mr. coleridge, you are the most eloquent man i ever met with, and the most troublesome with your eloquence.' phillips held the cribbage-peg, that was to mark him game, suspended in his hand, and the whist-table was silent for a moment. i saw holcroft downstairs, and on coming to the landing-place in mitre court he stopped me to observe that he thought mr. coleridge a very clever man, with a great command of language, but that he feared he did not always affix very proper ideas to the words he used. after he was gone we had our laugh out, and went on with the argument on 'the nature of reason, the imagination, and the will.' ... it would make a supplement to the 'biographia literaria,' in a volume and a half, octavo." it was at one of these wednesdays that lamb started his famous question as to persons "one would wish to have seen." it was a suggestive topic, and proved a fruitful one. mr. hazlitt, who was there, has left an account behind him of the kind of talk which arose out of this hint, so lightly thrown out by the author of "elia," and it is worth giving in his own words:-- "on the question being started, ayrton said, 'i suppose the two first persons you would choose to see would be the two greatest names in english literature, sir isaac newton and locke?' in this ayrton, as usual, reckoned without his host. everyone burst out a laughing at the expression of lamb's face, in which impatience was restrained by courtesy. 'y--yes, the greatest names,' he stammered out hastily; 'but they were not persons--not persons.' 'not persons?' said ayrton, looking wise and foolish at the same time, afraid his triumph might be premature. 'that is,' rejoined lamb, 'not characters, you know. by mr. locke and sir isaac newton you mean the "essay on the human understanding" and "principia," which we have to this day. beyond their contents, there is nothing personally interesting in the men. but what we want to see anyone _bodily_ for is when there is something peculiar, striking in the individuals, more than we can learn from their writings and yet are curious to know. i dare say locke and newton were very like kneller's portraits of them; but who could paint shakespeare?' 'ay,' retorted ayrton, 'there it is. then i suppose you would prefer seeing him and milton instead?' 'no,' said lamb, 'neither; i have seen so much of shakespeare on the stage.' ... 'i shall guess no more,' said ayrton. 'who is it, then, you would like to see "in his habit as he lived," if you had your choice of the whole range of english literature?' lamb then named sir thomas brown and fulke greville, the friend of sir philip sydney, as the two worthies whom he should feel the greatest pleasure to encounter on the floor of his apartment in their night-gowns and slippers, and to exchange friendly greeting with them. at this ayrton laughed outright, and conceived lamb was jesting with him; but as no one followed his example he thought there might be something in it, and waited for an explanation in a state of whimsical suspense.... "when lamb had given his explanation, some one inquired of him if he could not see from the window the temple walk in which chaucer used to take his exercise, and on his name being put to the vote i was pleased to find there was a general sensation in his favour in all but ayrton, who said something about the ruggedness of the metre, and even objected to the quaintness of the orthography.... "captain burney muttered something about columbus, and martin burney hinted at the wandering jew; but the last was set aside as spurious, and the first made over to the new world. "'i should like,' said mr. reynolds, 'to have seen pope talking with patty blount, and i _have_ seen goldsmith.' everyone turned round to look at mr. reynolds, as if by so doing they too could get a sight of goldsmith.... "erasmus phillips, who was deep in a game of piquet at the other end of the room, whispered to martin burney to ask if junius would not be a fit person to invoke from the dead. 'yes,' said lamb, 'provided he would agree to lay aside his mask.' "we were now at a stand for a short time, when fielding was mentioned as a candidate. only one, however, seconded the proposition. 'richardson?' 'by all means; but only to look at him through the glass-door of his back-shop, hard at work upon one of his novels (the most extraordinary contrast that ever was presented between an author and his works), but not to let him come behind his counter, lest he should want you to turn customer; nor to go upstairs with him, lest he should offer to read the first manuscript of "sir charles grandison," which was originally written in twenty-eight volumes octavo; or get out the letters of his female correspondents to prove that "joseph andrews" was low.' "there was but one statesman in the whole of english history that any one expressed the least desire to see--oliver cromwell, with his fine, frank, rough, pimply face and wily policy--and one enthusiast, john bunyan, the immortal author of 'the pilgrim's progress.'.... "of all persons near our own time, garrick's name was received with the greatest enthusiasm. he presently superseded both hogarth and handel, who had been talked of, but then it was on condition that he should sit in tragedy and comedy, in the play and the farce,--lear and wildair, and abel drugger.... "lamb inquired if there was any one that was hanged that i would choose to mention, and i answered, 'eugene aram.'" the present hare place was the once disreputable ram alley, the scene of a comedy of that name, written by lodowick barry and dramatised in the reign of james i.; the plot killigrew afterwards used in his vulgar _parson's wedding_. barry, an irishman, of whom nothing much is known, makes one of his roystering characters say,-- "and rough ram alley stinks with cooks' shops vile; yet, stay, there's many a worthy lawyer's chamber 'buts upon ram alley." as a precinct of whitefriars, ram alley enjoyed the mischievous privilege of sanctuary for murderers, thieves, and debtors--indeed, any class of rascals except traitors--till the fifteenth century. after this it sheltered only debtors. barry speaks of its cooks, salesmen, and laundresses; and shadwell classes it (charles ii.) with pye corner, as the resort of "rascally stuff." lord clarendon, in his autobiography, describes the great fire as burning on the thames side as far as the "new buildings of the inner temple next to whitefriars," striking next on some of the buildings which joined to ram alley, and sweeping all those into fleet street. in the reign of george i. ram alley was full of public-houses, and was a place of no reputation, having passages into the temple and serjeants' inn. "a kind of privileged place for debtors," adds hatton, "before the late act of parliament ( & william iii. c. , s. ) for taking them away." this useful act swept out all the london sanctuaries, those vicious relics of monastic rights, including mitre court, salisbury court (fleet street), the savoy, fulwood rents (holborn), baldwin's gardens (gray's inn lane), the minories, deadman's place, montague close (southwark), the clink, and the mint in the same locality. the savoy and the mint, however, remained disreputable a generation or two later. serjeants' inn, fleet street, now deserted by the faithless serjeants, is supposed to have been given to the dean and chapter of york in (henry iv.) it then consisted of shops, &c. in (charles i.) the inn began its legal career by being leased for forty years to nine judges and fifteen serjeants. in this hall, in , the judges in full bench struck a sturdy blow at feudal privileges by agreeing that peers might be attached upon process for contempt out of chancery. in (george i.) the inn was highly aristocratic, its inmates being the lord chief justice, the lord chief baron, justices, and serjeants. in , however, the fickle serjeants removed to chancery lane, and adam, the architect of the adelphi, designed the present nineteen houses and the present street frontage. on the site of the hall arose the amicable assurance society, which in transferred its business to the economic, and the house is now the norwich union office. the inn is a parish in itself, making its own assessment, and contributing to the city rates. its pavement, which had been part of the stone-work of old st. paul's, was not replaced till . the conservative old inn retained its old oil lamps long after the introduction of gas. the arms of serjeants' inn, worked into the iron gate opening on fleet street, are a dove and a serpent, the serpent twisted into a kind of true lover's knot. the lawyers of serjeants' inn, no doubt, unite the wisdom of the serpent with the guilelessness of the dove. singularly enough dr. dodd, the popular preacher, who was hanged, bore arms nearly similar. half way down bouverie street, in the centre of old whitefriars, is the office of the _daily news_. the first number of this popular and influential paper appeared on january , . the publishers, and part proprietors, were messrs. bradbury & evans, the printers; the editor was charles dickens; the manager was dickens's father, mr. john dickens; the second, or assistant, editor, douglas jerrold; and among the other "leader" writers were albany fonblanque and john forster, both of the _examiner_. "father prout" (mahoney) acted as roman correspondent. the musical critic was the late mr. george hogarth, dickens's father-in-law; and the new journal had an "irish famine commissioner" in the person of mr. r.h. horne, the poet. miss martineau wrote leading articles in the new paper for several years, and mr. m'cullagh torrens was also a recognised contributor. the staff of parliamentary reporters was said to be the best in london, several having been taken, at an advanced salary, off the _times_. "the speculative proprietorship," says mr. grant, in his "history of the newspaper press," "was divided into one hundred shares, some of which were held by sir william jackson, m.p., sir joshua watkins, and the late sir joseph paxton. mr. charles dickens, as editor, received a salary of £ , a year." [illustration: the dorset gardens theatre, whitefriars (_see page _).] the early numbers of the paper contained instalments of dickens's "pictures from italy;" yet the new venture did not succeed. charles dickens and douglas jerrold took the night-work on alternate days; but dickens, who never made politics a special study, very soon retired from the editorship altogether, and jerrold was chief editor for a little while till he left to set up his _weekly newspaper_. mr. forster also had the editorship for a short period, and the paper then fell into the hands of the late mr. dilke, of the _athenæum_, who excited some curiosity by extensively advertising these words: "see the _daily news_ of june st." the _daily news_ of june , (which began no. again), was a paper of four pages, issued at - / _d._, which, deducting the stamp, at that time affixed to every copy of every newspaper, was in effect three halfpence. one of the features of the new plan was that the sheet should vary in size, according to the requirements of the day--with an eye, nevertheless, at all times to selection and condensation. it was a bold attempt, carried out with great intelligence and spirit; but it was soon found necessary to put on another halfpenny, and in a year or two the _daily news_ was obliged to return to the usual price of "dailies" at that time--fivepence. the chief editors of the paper, besides those already mentioned, have been mr. eyre evans crowe, mr. frederick knight hunt, mr. weir, and mr. thomas walker, who retired in january, , on receiving the editorship of the _london gazette_. the journal came down to a penny in june, . [illustration: attack on a whig mug house (_see page _)] the _daily news_, at the beginning, inspired the _times_ with some dread of rivalry; and it is noteworthy that, for several years afterwards, the great journal was very unfriendly in its criticisms on dickens's books. there is no doubt that, over sanguine of success, the _daily news_ proprietors began by sinking too much money in the foundations. in , the _times'_ reporters received on an average only five guineas a week, while the _daily news_ gave seven; but the pay was soon of necessity reduced. mr. grant computes the losses of the _daily news_ for the first ten years at not much less than £ , . the talent and enterprise of this paper, during the recent ( ) german invasion of france, and the excellence of their correspondents in either camp, is said to have trebled its circulation, which mr. grant computes at a daily issue of , . as an organ of the highest and most enlightened form of liberalism and progress, the _daily news_ now stands pre-eminent. many actors, poets, and authors dwelt in salisbury court in charles ii.'s time, and the great betterton, underhill, and sandford affected this neighbourhood, to be near the theatres. lady davenant here presided over the dorset gardens company; shadwell, "round as a butt and liquored every chink," nightly reeled home to the same precinct, unsteadily following the guidance of a will-o'-the-wisp link-boy; and in the square lived and died sir john king, the duke of york's solicitor-general. if salisbury square boasts of richardson, the respectable citizen and admirable novelist, it must also plead guilty to having been the residence of that not very reputable personage, mr. john eyre, who, although worth, as it was said, some £ , , was transported on november , (george iii.) for systematic pilfering of paper from the alderman's chamber, in the justice room, guildhall. this man, led away by the thirst for money, had an uncle who made two wills, one leaving eyre all his money, except a legacy of £ to a clergyman; another leaving the bulk to the clergyman, and £ only to his nephew. eyre, not knowing of the second will, destroyed the first, in order to cancel the vexatious bequest. when the real will was produced his disappointment and selfish remorse must have produced an expression of repressed rage worthy of hogarth's pencil. in salisbury square mr. clarke's disagreeable confessions about the duke of york were publicly burned, on the very spot (says mr. noble) where the zealous radical demagogue, waithman, subsequently addressed the people from a temporary platform, not being able to obtain the use of st. bride's vestry. nor must we forget to chronicle no. as the house of tatum, a silversmith, to whom, in , that eminent man john faraday acted as humble friend and assistant. how often does young genius act the herdsman, as apollo did when he tended the kine of admetus! the woodfalls, too, in their time, lent celebrity to salisbury square. the first woodfall who became eminent was henry woodfall, at the "elzevir's head" at temple bar. he commenced business under the auspices of pope. his son henry, who rose to be a common councilman and master of the stationers' company, bought of theophilus cibber, in - , one-third of a tenth share of the london _daily post_, an organ which gradually grew into the _public advertiser_, that daring paper in which the celebrated letters of junius first appeared. those letters, scathing and full of greek fire, brought down lords and commons, king's bench and old bailey, on woodfall, and he was fined and imprisoned. whether burke, barré, chatham, horne tooke, or sir philip francis wrote them, will now probably never be known. the stern writer in the iron mask went down into the grave shrouded in his own mystery, and that grave no inquisitive eyes will ever find. "i am the sole depository of my secret," he wrote, "and it shall perish with me." the junius woodfall died in . william woodfall, the younger brother, was born in , and educated at st. paul's school. he was editor and printer of the _morning chronicle_, and in had his office in dorset street, salisbury square (noble). "memory" woodfall, as william was generally called, acquired fame by his extraordinary power of reporting from memory the speeches he heard in the house of commons. his practice during a debate (says his friend mr. taylor, of the _sun_) was to close his eyes and lean with both hands upon his stick. he was so well acquainted with the tone and manner of the several speakers that he seldom changed his attitude but to catch the name of a new member. his memory was as accurate as it was capacious, and, what was almost miraculous, he could retain full recollection of any particular debate for a full fortnight, and after many long nights of speaking. woodfall used to say he could put a speech away on a corner shelf of his mind for future reference. this is an instance of power of memory scarcely equalled by fuller, who, it is said, could repeat the names of all the shops down the strand (at a time every shop had a sign) in regular and correct sequence; and it even surpasses "memory" thompson, who used to boast he could remember every shop from ludgate hill to the end of piccadilly. yet, with all his sensitively retentive memory, woodfall did not care for slight interruptions during his writing. dr. johnson used to write abridged reports of debates for the _gentleman's magazine_ from memory, but, then, reports at that time were short and trivial. woodfall was also a most excellent dramatic critic--slow to censure, yet never sparing just rebuke. at the theatre his extreme attention gave his countenance a look of gloom and severity. mr. j. taylor, of the _sun_, describes kemble as watching woodfall in one of those serious moods, and saying to a friend, "how applicable to that man is the passage in _hamlet_,--'thoughts black, hands apt.'" finding himself hampered on the _morning chronicle_, woodfall started a new daily paper, with the title of the _diary_, but eventually he was overpowered by his competitors and their large staff of reporters. his eldest son, who displayed great abilities, went mad. mr. woodfall's hospitable parties at his house at kentish town are sketched for us by mr. j. taylor. on one particular occasion he mentions meeting mr. tickel, richardson (a partner in "the rolliad"), john kemble, perry (of the _chronicle_), dr. glover (a humorist of the day), and john coust. kemble and perry fell out over their wine, and perry was rude to the stately tragedian. kemble, eyeing him with the scorn of coriolanus, exclaimed, in the words of zanga,-- "a lion preys not upon carcases." perry very naturally effervesced at this, and war would have been instantly proclaimed between the belligerents had not coust and richardson promptly interposed. the warlike powers were carefully sent home in separate vehicles. mr. woodfall had a high sense of the importance of a parliamentary reporter's duties, and once, during a heavy week, when his eldest son came to town to assist him, he said, "and charles fox to have a debate on a saturday! what! does he think that reporters are made of iron?" woodfall used to tell a characteristic story of dr. dodd. when that miserable man was in newgate waiting sentence of death he sent earnestly for the editor of the _morning chronicle_. woodfall, a kind and unselfish man, instantly hurried off, expecting that dodd wished his serious advice. in the midst of woodfall's condolement he was stopped by the doctor, who said he had wished to see him on quite a different subject. knowing woodfall's judgment in dramatic matters, he was anxious to have his opinion on a comedy which he had written, and to request his interest with a manager to bring it on the stage. woodfall was the more surprised and shocked as on entering newgate he had been informed by ackerman, the keeper of newgate, that the order for dr. dodd's execution had just arrived. before parting with the woodfall family, we may mention that it is quite certain that henry sampson woodfall did not know who the author of "junius" was. long after the letters appeared he used to say,--"i hope and trust junius is not dead, as i think he would have left me a legacy; for though i derived much honour from his preference, i suffered much by the freedom of his pen." the grandson of william, henry dick woodfall, died in nice, april , , aged sixty-nine, carrying to the grave (says mr. noble) the last chance of discovering one of the best kept secrets ever known. the whig "mug-house" of salisbury court deserves notice. the death of queen anne ( ) roused the hopes of the jacobites. the rebellion of proved how bitterly they felt the peaceful accession of the elector of hanover. the northern revolt convinced them of their strength, but its failure taught them no lesson. they attributed its want of success to the rashness of the leaders and the absence of unanimity in their followers, to the outbreak not being simultaneous; to every cause, indeed, but the right one. it was about this time that the whig gentlemen of london, to unite their party and to organise places of gathering, established "mug-houses" in various parts of the city. at these places, "free-and-easy" clubs were held, where whig citizens could take their mug of ale, drink loyal toasts, sing loyal songs, and arrange party processions. these assemblies, not always very just or forbearing, soon led to violent retaliations on the part of the tories, attacks were made on several of the mug-houses, and dangerous riots naturally ensued. from the papers of the time we learn that the tories wore white roses, or rue, thyme, and rosemary in their hats, flourished oak branches and green ribbons, and shouted "high church;" "ormond for ever;" "no king george;" "down with the presbyterians;" "down with the mug-houses." the whigs, on the other side, roared "king george for ever," displayed orange cockades, with the motto,-- "with heart and hand by george we'll stand," and did their best on royal birthdays and other thanksgivings, by illuminations and blazing bonfires outside the mug-house doors, to irritate their adversaries and drive them to acts of illegal violence. the chief whig mug-houses were in long acre, cheapside, st. john's lane (clerkenwell), tower street, and salisbury court. mackey, a traveller, who wrote "a journey through england" about this time, describes the mug-houses very lucidly:-- "the most amusing and diverting of all," he says, "is the 'mug-house club,' in long acre, where every wednesday and saturday a mixture of gentlemen, lawyers, and tradesmen meet in a great room, and are seldom under a hundred. they have a grave old gentleman in his own grey hairs, now within a few months of ninety years old, who is their president, and sits in an armed-chair some steps higher than the rest of the company, to keep the whole room in order. a harp always plays all the time at the lower end of the room, and every now and then one or other of the company rises and entertains the rest with a song; and, by-the-by, some are good masters. here is nothing drank but ale; and every gentleman hath his separate mug, which he chalks on the table where he sits as it is brought in, and everyone retires when he pleases, as in a coffee-house. the room is always so diverted with songs, and drinking from one table to another to one another's healths, that there is no room for politics, or anything that can sour conversation. one must be up by seven to get room, and after ten the company are, for the most part, gone. this is a winter's amusement that is agreeable enough to a stranger for once or twice, and he is well diverted with the different humours when the mugs overflow." an attack on a whig mug-house, the "roebuck," in cheapside, june, , was followed by a still more stormy assault on the salisbury court mug-house in july of the same year. the riot began on a friday, but the whigs kept a resolute face, and the mob dwindled away. on the monday they renewed the attack, declaring that the whigs were drinking "down with the church," and reviling the memory of queen anne; and they swore they would level the house and make a bonfire of the timber in the middle of fleet street. but the wily whigs, barricading the door, slipped out a messenger at a back door, and sent to a mug-house in tavistock street, covent garden, for reinforcements. presently a band of whig bludgeon-men arrived, and the whigs of salisbury court then snatched up pokers, tongs, pitchforks, and legs of stools, and sallied out on the tory mob, who soon fled before them. for two days the tory mob seethed, fretted, and swore revenge. but the report of a squadron of horse being drawn up at whitehall ready to ride down on the city kept them gloomily quiet. on the third day a jacobite, named vaughan, formerly a bridewell boy, led them on to revenge; and on tuesday they stormed the place in earnest. "the best of the tory mob," says a whig paper of the day, "were high church scaramouches, chimney-sweeps, hackney coachmen, foot-boys, tinkers, shoe-blacks, street idlers, ballad singers, and strumpets." the contemporaneous account will most vividly describe the scene. the _weekly journal_ (a whig paper) of july , , says: "the papists and jacobites, in pursuance of their rebellious designs, assembled a mob on friday night last, and threatened to attack mr. read's mug-house in salisbury court, in fleet street; but, seeing the loyal gentlemen that were there were resolved to defend themselves, the cowardly papists and jacobites desisted for that time. but on monday night the villains meeting together again in a most rebellious manner, they began first to attack mr. goslin's house, at the sign of the 'blew boar's head,' near water lane, in fleet street, breaking the windows thereof, for no other reason but because he is well-affected to his majesty king george and the present government. afterwards they went to the above-said mug-house in salisbury court; but the cowardly jacks not being able to accomplish their hellish designs that night, they assembled next day in great numbers from all parts of the town, breaking the windows with brick-bats, broke open the cellar, got into the lower rooms, which they robb'd, and pull'd down the sign, which was carried in triumph before the mob by one thomas bean, servant to mr. carnegie and mr. cassey, two rebels under sentence of death, and for which he is committed to newgate, as well as several others, particularly one hook, a joyner, in blackfriars, who is charged with acting a part in gutting the mug-house. some of the rioters were desperately wounded, and one vaughan, a seditious weaver, formerly an apprentice in bridewell, and since employed there, who was a notorious ringleader of mobs, was kill'd at the aforesaid mug-house. many notorious papists were seen to abet and assist in this villanous rabble, as were others, who call themselves churchmen, and are like to meet with a suitable reward in due time for their assaulting gentlemen who meet at these mug-houses only to drink prosperity to the church of england as by law established, the king's health, the prince of wales's, and the rest of the royal family, and those of his faithful and loyal ministers. but it is farther to be observed that women of mean, scandalous lives, do frequently point, hiss, and cry out 'whigs' upon his majesty's good and loyal subjects, by which, raising a mob, they are often insulted by them. but 'tis hoped the magistrates will take such methods which may prevent the like insults for the future. "thursday last the coroner's inquest sat on the body of the person killed in salisbury court, who were for bringing in their verdict, wilful murder against mr. read, the man of the mug-house; but some of the jury stick out, and will not agree with that verdict; so that the matter is deferr'd till monday next." "on tuesday last," says the same paper (august , ), "a petition, signed by some of the inhabitants of salisbury court, was deliver'd to the court of aldermen, setting forth some late riots occasioned by the meeting of some persons at the mug-house there. the petition was referr'd to, and a hearing appointed the same day before the lord mayor. the witnesses on the side of the petition were a butcher woman, a barber's 'prentice, and two or three other inferior people. these swore, in substance--that the day the man was killed there, they saw a great many people gathered together about the mug-house, throwing stones and dirt, &c.; that about twelve o'clock they saw mr. read come out with a gun, and shoot a man who was before the mob at some distance, and had no stick in his hand. those who were call'd in mr. read's behalf depos'd that a very great mob attacked the house, crying, 'high church and ormond; no hanover; no king george;' that then the constable read the proclamation, charging them to disperse, but they still continued to cry, 'down with the mug-house;' that two soldiers then issued out of the house, and drove the mob into fleet street; but by throwing sticks and stones, they drove these two back to the house, and the person shot returned at the head of the mob with a stick in his hand flourishing, and crying, 'no hanover; no king george;' and 'down with the mug-house.' that then mr. read desired them to disperse, or he would shoot amongst them, and the deceased making at him, he shot him and retired indoors; that then the mob forced into the house, rifled all below stairs, took the money out of the till, let the beer about the cellar, and what goods they could not carry away, they brought into the streets and broke to pieces; that they would have forced their way up stairs and murdered all in the house, but that a person who lodged in the house made a barricade at the stair-head, where he defended himself above half an hour against all the mob, wounded some of them, and compelled them to give over the assault. there were several very credible witnesses to these circumstances, and many more were ready to have confirmed it, but the lord mayor thought sufficient had been said, and the following gentlemen, who are men of undoubted reputation and worth, offering to be bail for mr. read, namely, mr. johnson, a justice of the peace, and colonels coote and westall, they were accepted, and accordingly entered into a recognisance." five of the rioters were eventually hung at tyburn turnpike, in the presence of a vast crowd. according to mr. j.t. smith, in his "streets of london," a whig mug-house existed as early as . it has been said the slang word "mug" owes its derivation to lord shaftesbury's "ugly mug," which the beer cups were moulded to resemble. in the _flying post_ of june , , we find a doggerel old mug-house ballad, which is so characteristic of the violence of the times that it is worth preserving:-- "since the tories could not fight, and their master took his flight, they labour to keep up their faction; with a bough and a stick, and a stone and a brick, they equip their roaring crew for action. "thus in battle array at the close of the day, after wisely debating their deep plot, upon windows and stall, they courageously fall, and boast a great victory they have got. "but, alas! silly boys, for all the mighty noise, of their 'high church and ormond for ever,' a brave whig with one hand, at george's command, can make their mightiest hero to quiver." richardson's printing office was at the north-west corner of salisbury square, communicating with the court, no. , fleet street. here the thoughtful old citizen wrote "pamela," and here, in , oliver goldsmith acted as his "reader." richardson seems to have been an amiable and benevolent man, kind to his compositors and servants and beloved by children. all the anecdotes relating to his private life are pleasant. he used to encourage early rising among his workmen by hiding half crowns among the disordered type, so that the earliest comer might find his virtue rewarded; and he would frequently bring up fruit from the country to give to those of his servants who had been zealous and good-tempered. [illustration: fleet street, the temple, etc., from a plan published by ralph aggas, .] samuel richardson, the author of "pamela" and "clarissa," was the son of a derbyshire joiner. he was born in , and died in . apprenticed to a london printer, he rose by steady industry and prudence to be the manager of a large business, printer of the journals of the house of commons, master of the stationers' company, and part-printer to the king. in , at the age of fifty-two, publishers urging the thriving citizen to write them a book of moral letters, richardson produced "pamela," a novel which ran through five editions the first year, and became the rage of the town. ladies carried the precious volumes to ranelagh, and held them up in smiling triumph to each other. pope praised the novel as more useful than twenty volumes of sermons, and dr. sherlock gravely recommended it from the pulpit. in richardson wrote "clarissa harlowe," his most perfect work, and in his somewhat tedious "sir charles grandison" ( vols.). in "pamela" he drew a servant, whom her master attempts to seduce and eventually marries, but in "clarissa" the heroine, after harrowing misfortunes, dies unrewarded. richardson had always a moral end in view. he hated vice and honoured virtue, but he is too often prolix and wearisome. he wished to write novels that should wean the young from the foolish romances of his day. in "pamela" he rewarded struggling virtue; in "clarissa" he painted the cruel selfishness of vice; in "sir charles" he tried to represent the perfect christian gentleman. coleridge said that to read fielding after richardson was like emerging from a sick room, heated by stoves into an open lawn on a breezy may morning. richardson, indeed, wrote more for women than men. fielding was coarser, but more manly; he had humour, but no moral purpose at all. the natural result was that fielding and his set looked on richardson as a grave, dull, respectable old prig; richardson on fielding as a low rake, who wrote like a man who had been an ostler born in a stable, or a runner in a sponging-house. "the virtues of fielding's heroes," the vain old printer used to say to his feminine clique, "are the vices of a truly good man." dr. johnson, who had been befriended by richardson, was never tired of depreciating fielding and crying up the author of "pamela." "sir," he used to thunder out, "there is as much difference between the two as between a man who knows how a watch is made and a man who can merely tell the hour on the dial-plate." he called fielding a "barren rascal." "sir, there is more knowledge of the heart in one letter of richardson's than in all 'tom jones.'" some one present here mildly suggested that richardson was very tedious. "why, sir," replied johnson, "if you were to read richardson for the story, your impatience would be so great that you would hang yourself. but you must read him for the sentiment, and consider the story as only giving occasion to the sentiment." after all, it must be considered that, old-fashioned as richardson's novels have now become, the old printer dissected the human heart with profound knowledge and exquisite care, and that in the back shop in salisbury court, amid the jar of printing-presses, the quiet old citizen drew his ideal beings with far subtler lines and touches than any previous novelist had done. [illustration: fleet street, the temple, etc., from a map of london, published .] on one occasion at least hogarth and johnson met at richardson's house. "mr. hogarth," says nichols, "came one day to see richardson, soon after the execution of dr. cameron, for having taken arms for the house of stuart in - ; and, being a warm partisan of george ii., he observed to richardson that certainly there must have been some very unfavourable circumstances lately discovered in this particular case which had induced the king to approve of an execution for rebellion so long after the time it was committed, as this had the appearance of putting a man to death in cold blood, and was very unlike his majesty's usual clemency. while he was talking he perceived a person standing at a window in the room shaking his head and rolling himself about in a ridiculous manner. he concluded he was an idiot, whom his relations had put under the care of mr. richardson as a very good man. to his great surprise, however, this figure stalked forward to where he and mr. richardson were sitting, and all at once took up the argument, and burst out into an invective against george ii., as one who, upon all occasions, was unrelenting and barbarous; mentioning many instances, particularly that, where an officer of high rank had been acquitted by a court martial, george ii. had, with his own hand, struck his name off the list. in short, he displayed such a power of eloquence that hogarth looked at him in astonishment, and actually imagined that this idiot had been at the moment inspired. neither johnson nor hogarth were made known to each other at this interview." boswell tells a good story of a rebuke that richardson's amiable but inordinate egotism on one occasion received, much to johnson's secret delight, which is certainly worth quoting before we dismiss the old printer altogether. "one day," says boswell, "at his country house at northend, where a large company was assembled at dinner, a gentleman who was just returned from paris, wishing to please richardson, mentioned to him a flattering circumstance, that he had seen his 'clarissa' lying on the king's brother's table. richardson observing that part of the company were engaged in talking to each other, affected then not to attend to it; but by and bye, when, there was a general silence, and he thought that the flattery might be fully heard, he addressed himself to the gentleman: 'i think, sir, you were saying somewhat about'--pausing in a high flutter of expectation. the gentleman provoked at his inordinate vanity resolved not to indulge it, and with an exquisitely sly air of indifference answered, 'a mere trifle, sir; not worth repeating.' the mortification of richardson was visible, and he did not speak ten words more the whole day. dr. johnson was present, and appeared to enjoy it much." at one corner of salisbury square (says mr. timbs) are the premises of peacock, bampton, & mansfield, the famous pocket-book makers, whose "polite repository" for is "the patriarch of all pocket-books." its picturesque engravings have never been surpassed, and their morocco and russia bindings scarcely equalled. in our time queen adelaide and her several maids of honour used the "repository." george iv. was provided by the firm with a ten-guinea housewife (an antique-looking pocket-book, with gold-mounted scissors, tweezers, &c.); and mr. mansfield relates that on one occasion the king took his housewife from his pocket and handed it round the table to his guests, and next day the firm received orders for twenty-five, "just like the king's." in st. bride's passage, westward (says mr. timbs), was a large dining-house, where, some forty years ago, colton, the author, used to dine, and publicly boast that he wrote the whole of his "lacon; or, many things in few words," upon a small rickety deal table, with one pen. another frequenter of this place was one webb, who seems to have been so well up in the topics of the day that he was a sort of walking newspaper, who was much with the king and queen of the sandwich islands when they visited england in . this caleb colton, mentioned by mr. timbs, was that most degraded being, a disreputable clergyman, with all the vices but little of the genius of churchill, and had been, in his flourishing time, vicar of kew and petersham. he was educated at eton, and eventually became fellow of king's college, cambridge. he wrote "a plain and authentic narrative of the stamford ghost," "remarks on the tendencies of 'don juan,'" a poem on napoleon, and a satire entitled "hypocrisy." his best known work, however, was "lacon; or, many things in few words," published in . these aphorisms want the terse brevity of rochefoucauld, and are in many instances vapid and trivial. a passion for gaming at last swallowed up colton's other vices, and becoming involved, he cut the gordian knot of debt in by absconding; his living was then seized and given to another. he fled to america, and from there returned to that syren city, paris, where he is said in two years to have won no less than £ , . the miserable man died by his own hand at fontainebleau, in . in the "lacon" is the subjoined passage, that seems almost prophetic of the miserable author's miserable fate:-- "the gamester, if he die a martyr to his profession, is doubly ruined. he adds his soul to every loss, and by the act of suicide renounces earth to forfeit heaven.".... "anguish of mind has driven thousands to suicide, anguish of body none. this proves that the health of the mind is of far more consequence to our happiness than the health of the body, although both are deserving of much more attention than either of them receive." and here is a fine sentiment, worthy of dr. dodd himself:-- "there is but one pursuit in life which it is in the power of all to follow and of all to attain. it is subject to no disappointments, since he that perseveres makes every difficulty an advancement and every contest a victory--and this the pursuit of virtue. sincerely to aspire after virtue is to gain her, and zealously to labour after her wages is to receive them. those that seek her early will find her before it is late; her reward also is with her, and she will come quickly. for the breast of a good man is a little heaven commencing on earth, where the deity sits enthroned with unrivalled influence, every subjugated passion, 'like the wind and storm, fulfilling his word.'" chapter xiii. the temple.--general introduction. origin of the order of templars--first home of the order--removal to the banks of the thames--rules of the order--the templars at the crusades, and their deeds of valour--decay and corruption of the order--charges brought against the knights--abolition of the order. the order of knights templars, established by baldwin, king of jerusalem, in , to protect christian pilgrims on their road to jerusalem, first found a home in england in (henry i.), when hugh de payens, the first master of the order, visited our shores to obtain succours and subsidies against the infidel. the proud, and at first zealous, brotherhood originally settled on the south side of holborn, without the bars. indeed, about a century and a half ago, part of a round chapel, built of caen stone, was found under the foundation of some old houses at the holborn end of southampton buildings. in time, however, the order amassed riches, and, growing ambitious, purchased a large space of ground extending from fleet street to the river, and from whitefriars to essex house in the strand. the new temple was a vast monastery, fitted for the residence of the prior, his chaplain, serving brethren and knights; and it boasted a council-chamber, a refectory, a barrack, a church, a range of cloisters, and a river terrace for religious meditation, military exercise, and the training of chargers. in heraclius, the patriarch of jerusalem, who had come to england with the masters of the temple and the hospital to procure help from henry ii. against the victorious saladin, consecrated the beautiful river-side church, which the proud order had dedicated to the virgin lady mary. the late master of the temple had only recently died in a dungeon at damascus, and the new master of the hospital, after the great defeat of the christians at jacob's ford, on the jordan, had swam the river covered with wounds, and escaped to the castle of beaufort. the singular rules of the "order of the poor fellow-soldiers of jesus christ and of the temple of solomon," were revised by the first abbot of clairvaux, st. bernard himself. extremely austere and earnest, they were divided into seventy-two heads, and enjoined severe and constant devotional exercises, self-mortification, fasting, prayer, and regular attendance at matins, vespers, and all the services of the church. dining in one common refectory, the templars were to make known wants that could not be expressed by signs, in a gentle, soft, and private way. two and two were in general to live together, so that one might watch the other. after departing from the supper hall to bed it was not permitted them to speak again in public, except upon urgent necessity, and then only in an undertone. all scurrility, jests, and idle words were to be avoided; and after any foolish saying, the repetition of the lord's prayer was enjoined. all professed knights were to wear white garments, both in summer and winter, as emblems of chastity. the esquires and retainers were required to wear black or, in provinces where that coloured cloth could not be procured, brown. no gold or silver was to be used in bridles, breastplates, or spears, and if ever that furniture was given them in charity, it was to be discoloured to prevent an appearance of superiority or arrogance. no brother was to receive or despatch letters without the leave of the master or procurator, who might read them if he chose. no gift was to be accepted by a templar till permission was first obtained from the master. no knight should talk to any brother of his previous frolics and irregularities in the world. no brother, in pursuit of worldly delight, was to hawk, to shoot in the woods with long or crossbow, to halloo to dogs, or to spur a horse after game. there might be married brothers, but they were to leave part of their goods to the chapter, and not to wear the white habit. widows were not to dwell in the preceptories. when travelling, templars were to lodge only with men of the best repute, and to keep a light burning all night "lest the dark enemy, from whom god preserve us, should find some opportunity." unrepentant brothers were to be cast out. last of all, every templar was to shun "feminine kisses," whether from widow, virgin, mother, sister, aunt, or any other woman. during six of the seven crusades ( - ), during which the christians of europe endeavoured, with tremendous yet fitful energy, to wrest the birthplace of christianity from the equally fanatic moslems, the knights templars fought bravely among the foremost. whether by the side of godfrey of bouillon, louis vii., philip v., richard coeur de lion, louis ix., or prince edward, the stern, sunburnt men in the white mantles were ever foremost in the shock of spears. under many a clump of palm trees, in many a scorched desert track, by many a hill fortress, smitten with sabre or pierced with arrow, the holy brotherhood dug the graves of their slain companions. a few of the deeds, which must have been so often talked of upon the temple terrace and in the temple cloister, must be narrated, to show that, however mistaken was the ideal of the crusaders, these monkish warriors fought their best to turn it into a reality. in the whole brotherhood joined the second crusade, and protected the rear of the christian army in its toilsome march through asia minor. in , the order saved jerusalem, and drove back the infidels with terrible slaughter. two years later the master of the temple was slain, with many of the white mantles, in fiercely essaying to storm the walls of ascalon. three years after this templars were slain in a moslem ambuscade, near tiberias, and were taken prisoners. we next find the templars repelling the redoubtable saladin from gaza; and in a great battle near ascalon, in , the master of the temple and ten knights broke through the mameluke guards, and all but captured saladin in his tent. the templars certainly had their share of infidel blows, for, in , the whole order was nearly slain in a battle with saladin; and in another fierce conflict, only the grand master and two knights escaped; while again at tiberias, in , they received a cruel repulse, and were all but totally destroyed. in , when saladin took jerusalem, he next besieged the great templar stronghold of tyre; and soon after a body of the knights, sent from london, attacked saladin's camp in vain, and the grand master and nearly half of the order perished. in the subsequent siege of acre the crusaders lost nearly , men in nine pitched battles. in , however, acre was taken, and the kings of france and england, and the masters of the temple and the hospital, gave the throne of the latin kingdom to guy de lusignan. when richard coeur de lion had cruelly put to death , moslem prisoners, we find the templars interposing to prevent richard and the english fighting against the austrian allies; and soon after the templars bought cyprus of richard for , livres of gold. in the advance to jerusalem the templars led the van of richard's army. when the attack on jerusalem was suspended, the templars followed richard to ascalon, and soon afterwards gave cyprus to guy de lusignan, on condition of his surrendering the latin crown. when richard abandoned the crusade, after his treaty with saladin, it was the templars who gave him a galley and the disguise of a templar's white robe to secure his safe passage to an adriatic port. upon richard's departure they erected many fortresses in palestine, especially one on mount carmel, which they named pilgrim's castle. the fourth crusade was looked on unfavourably by the brotherhood, who now wished to remain at peace with the infidel, but they nevertheless soon warmed to the fighting, and we find a band of the white mantles defeated and slain at jaffa. with a second division of crusaders the templars quarrelled, and were then deserted by them. soon after the templars and hospitallers, now grown corrupt and rich, quarrelled about lands and fortresses; but they were still favoured by the pope, and helped to maintain the latin throne. in they were strong enough to resist the interdict of pope innocent; and in the crusade of they invaded egypt, and took damietta by assault, but, at the same time, to the indignation of england, wrote home urgently for more money. an attack on cairo proving disastrous, they concluded a truce with the sultan in . in the crusade of the emperor frederick the templars refused to join an excommunicated man. in , the templars wrested jerusalem from the sultan of damascus, but, in , were ousted by the sultan of egypt and the sultan of damascus, and were almost exterminated in a two days' battle; and, in , they were again defeated at mansourah. when king louis was taken prisoner, the infidels demanded the surrender of all the templar fortresses in palestine, but eventually accepted damietta alone and a ransom, which louis exacted from the templars. in the moguls and tartars took jerusalem, and almost annihilated the order, whose instant submission they required. in pope urban excommunicated the marshal of the order, but the templars nevertheless held by their comrade, and bendocdar, the mameluke, took all the castles belonging to the templars in armenia, and also stormed antioch, which had been a christian city years. after prince edward's crusade the templars were close pressed. in , aschraf khalil besieged the two orders and , christians in acre for six terrible weeks. the town was stormed, and all the christian prisoners, who flew to the infidel camp, were ruthlessly beheaded. a few of the templars flew to the convent of the temple, and there perished; the grand master had already fallen; a handful of the knights only escaping to cyprus. the persecution of the now corrupt and useless order commenced sixteen years afterwards. in , both in london and paris, terrible murmurs arose at their infidelity and their vices. at the church of st. martin's, ludgate, where the english templars were accused, the following charges were brought against them:-- . that at their first reception into the order, they were admonished by those who had received them within the bosom of the fraternity to deny christ, the crucifixion, the blessed virgin, and all the saints. . that the receivers instructed those that were received that christ was not the true god. . that they said christ had not suffered for the redemption of mankind, nor been crucified but for his own sins. . that they made those they received into the order spit upon the cross. . that they caused the cross itself to be trampled under foot. . that the brethren themselves did sometimes trample on the same cross. . that they worshipped a cat, which was placed in the midst of the congregation. . that they did not believe the sacrament of the altar, nor the other sacraments of the church. . that they believed that the grand master of the order could absolve them from their sins. . that the visitor could do so. . that the preceptors, of whom many were laymen, could do it. . that the receptions of the brethren were made clandestinely. . that none were present but the brothers of the said order. . that for this reason there has for a long time been a vehement suspicion against them. . that the brothers themselves had idols in every province, viz., heads, some of which had three faces, and some one, and some a man's skull. . that they adored that idol, or those idols, especially in their great chapters and assemblies. . that they worshipped them. . as their god. . as their saviour. . that some of them did so. . that the greater part did. . they said those heads could save them. . that they could produce riches. . that they had given to the order all its wealth. . that they caused the earth to bring forth seed. . that they made the trees to flourish. . that they bound or touched the heads of the said idols with cords, wherewith they bound themselves about their shirts, or next their skins. . that at their reception, the aforesaid little cords, or others of the same length, were delivered to each of the brothers. . that it was enjoined them to gird themselves with the said little cords, as before mentioned, and continually to wear them. . that the brethren of the order were generally received in that manner. . that they did these things out of devotion. . that they did them everywhere. . that the greater part did. . that those who refused the things above mentioned at their reception, or to observe them afterwards, were killed or cast into prison. the order was proud and arrogant, and had many enemies. the order was rich, and spoil would reward its persecutors. the charges against the knights were eagerly believed; many of the templars were burned at the stake in paris, and many more in various parts of france. in england their punishment seems to have been less severe. the order was formally abolished by pope clement v., in the year . chapter xiv. the temple church and precinct. the temple church--its restorations--discoveries of antiquities--the penitential cell--discipline in the temple--the tombs of the templars in the "round"--william and gilbert marshall--stone coffins in the churchyard--masters of the temple--the "judicious" hooker--edmund gibbon, the historian--the organ in the temple church--the rival builders--"straw bail"--history of the precinct--chaucer and the friar--his mention of the temple--the serjeants--erection of new buildings--the "roses"--sumptuary edicts--the flying horse. the round church of the temple is the finest of the four round churches still existing in england. the templars did not, however, always build round towers, resembling the temple at jerusalem, though such was generally their practice. the restoration of this beautiful relic was one of the first symptoms of the modern gothic revival. in the reign of charles ii. the body of the church was filled with formal pews, which concealed the bases of the columns, while the walls were encumbered, to the height of eight feet from the ground, with oak wainscoting, which was carried entirely round the church, so as to hide the elegant marble piscina, the interesting almeries over the high altar, and the _sacrarium_ on the eastern side of the edifice. the elegant gothic arches connecting the round with the square church were choked up with an oak screen and glass windows and doors, and with an organ gallery adorned with corinthian columns, pilasters, and grecian ornaments, which divided the building into two parts, altogether altered its original character and appearance, and sadly marring its architectural beauty. the eastern end of the church was at the same time disfigured by an enormous altar-piece in the _classic style_, decorated with corinthian columns and grecian cornices and entablatures, and with enrichments of cherubims and wreaths of fruit, flowers, and leaves, heavy and cumbrous, and quite at variance with the gothic character of the building. a large pulpit and carved sounding-board were erected in the middle of the dome, and the walls and whinns were encrusted and disfigured with hideous mural monuments and pagan trophies of forgotten wealth and vanity. [illustration: a knight templar.] the following account of the earliest repairs of the temple church is given in "the new view of london": "having narrowly escaped the flames in , it was in beautified, and the curious wainscot screen set up. the south-west part was, in the year , new built with stone. in the year the church was wholly new whitewashed, gilt, and painted within, and the pillars of the round tower wainscoted with a new battlement and buttresses on the south side, and other parts of the outside were well repaired. also the figures of the knights templars were cleaned and painted, and the iron-work enclosing them new painted and gilt with gold. the east end of the church was repaired and beautified in ." in the exterior of the north side and east end were again repaired. the first step towards the real restoration of the temple church was made in . it had been generally repaired in , but in sir robert smirke restored the whole south side externally and the lower part of the circular portion of the round church. the stone seat was renewed, the arcade was restored, the heads which had been defaced or removed were supplied. the wainscoting of the columns was taken away, the monuments affixed to some of the columns were removed, and the position of others altered. there still remained, however, monuments in the round church materially affecting the relative proportions of the two circles; the clustered columns still retained their incrustations of paint, plaster, and whitewash; the three archway entrances into the oblong church remained in their former state, detaching the two portions from each other, and entirely destroying the perspective which those arches afforded. when the genuine restoration was commenced in , the removal of the _beautifications and adornments_ which had so long disfigured the temple church, was regarded as an act of vandalism. seats were substituted for pews, and a smaller pulpit and reading-desk supplied more appropriate to the character of the building. the pavement was lowered to its original level; and thus the bases of the columns became once more visible. the altar screen and railing were taken down. the organ was removed, and thus all the arches from the round church to the body of the oblong church were thrown open. by this alteration the character of the church was shown in its original beauty. in the summer of , the two societies of the inner and middle temple had the paint and whitewash scraped off the marble columns and ceiling. the removal of the modern oak wainscoting led to the discovery of a very beautiful double marble piscina near the east end of the south side of the building, together with an adjoining elegantly-shaped recess, and also a picturesque gothic niche on the north side of the church. [illustration: interior of the temple church (_see page _).] on taking up the modern floor, remains of the original tesselated pavement were discovered. when the whitewash and plaster were removed from the ceiling it was found in a dangerous condition. there were also found there remains of ancient decorative paintings and rich ornaments worked in gold and silver; but they were too fragmentary to give an idea of the general pattern. under these circumstances it was resolved to redecorate the ceiling in a style corresponding with the ancient decorative paintings observable in many gothic churches in italy and france. as the plaster and whitewash were removed it was found that the columns were of the most beautiful purbeck marble. the six elegant clustered columns in the round tower had been concealed with a thick coating of roman cement, which had altogether concealed the graceful form of the mouldings and carved foliage of their capitals. barbarous slabs of portland stone had been cased round their bases and entirely altered their character. all this modern patchwork was thrown away; but the venerable marble proved so mutilated that new columns were found necessary to support the fabric. these are exact imitations of the old ones. the six elegant clustered columns already alluded to, however, needed but slight repair. almost all the other marble-work required renewal, and a special messenger was despatched to purbeck to open the ancient quarries. above the western doorway was discovered a beautiful norman window, composed of caen stone. the porch before the western door of the temple church, which formerly communicated with an ancient cloister leading to the hall of the knights templars, had been filled up with rubbish to a height of nearly two feet above the level of the ancient pavement, so that all the bases of the magnificent norman doorway were entirely hidden from view. previous to the recent restoration the round tower was surmounted by a wooden, flat, whitewashed ceiling, altogether different from the ancient roof. this ceiling and the timber roof above it have been entirely removed, and replaced by the present elegant and substantial roof, which is composed of oak, protected externally by sheet copper, and has been painted by mr. willement in accordance with an existing example of decorative painting in an ancient church in sicily. many buildings were also removed to give a clearer view of the fine old church. "among the many interesting objects," says mr. addison, "to be seen in the ancient church of the knights templars is a _penitential cell_, a dreary place of solitary confinement formed within the thick wall of the building, only four feet six inches long and two feet six inches wide, so narrow and small that a grown person cannot lie down within it. in this narrow prison the disobedient brethren of the ancient templars were temporarily confined in chains and fetters, 'in order that their souls might be saved from the eternal prison of hell.' the hinges and catch of a door, firmly attached to the doorway of this dreary chamber, still remain, and at the bottom of the staircase is a stone recess or cupboard, where bread and water were placed for the prisoner. in this cell brother walter le bacheler, knight, and grand preceptor of ireland, is said to have been starved to death for disobedience to his superior, the master of the temple. his body was removed at daybreak and buried by brother john de stoke and brother radulph de barton in the middle of the court between the church and the hall." the temple discipline in the early times was very severe: disobedient brethren were scourged by the master himself in the temple church, and frequently whipped publicly on fridays in the church. adam de valaincourt, a deserter, was sentenced to eat meat with the dogs for a whole year, to fast four days in the week, and every monday to present himself naked at the high altar to be publicly scourged by the officiating priest. at the time of the restoration of the church stained glass windows were added, and the panels of the circular vaulting were emblazoned with the lamb and horse--the devices of the inner and middle temple--and the beauseant, or black and white banner of the templars. the mail-clad effigies on the pavement of the "round" of the temple church are not monuments of knights templars, but of "associates of the temple," persons only partially admitted to the privileges of the powerful order. during the last repairs there were found two norman stone coffins and four ornamented leaden coffins in small vaults beneath these effigies, but not in their original positions. stow, in , speaks of eight images of armed knights in the round walk. the effigies have been restored by mr. richardson, the sculptor. the most interesting of these represents geoffrey de magnaville, earl of essex, a bold baron, who fought against king stephen, sacked cambridge, and plundered ramsey abbey. he was excommunicated, and while besieging burwell castle was struck by an arrow from a crossbow just as he had taken off his helmet to get air. the templars, not daring to bury him, soldered him up in lead, and hung him on a crooked tree in their river-side orchard. the corpse being at last absolved, the templars buried it before the west door of their church. he is to be known by a long, pointed shield charged with rays on a diamonded field. the next figure, of purbeck marble in low relief, is supposed to be the most ancient of all. the shield is kite-shaped, the armour composed of rude rings--name unknown. vestiges of gilding were discovered upon this monument. the two effigies on the north-east of the "round" are also anonymous. they are the tallest of all the stone brethren: one of them is straight-legged; the crossed legs of his comrade denote a crusading vow. the feet of the first rests on two grotesque human heads, probably infidels; the second wears a mouth guard like a respirator. between the two figures is the copestone lid of an ancient sarcophagus, probably that of a master or visitor-general of the templars, as it has the head of the cross which decorates it adorned with a lion's head, and the foot rests on the head of a lamb, the joint emblems of the order of the templars. during the excavations in the "round," a magnificent purbeck marble sarcophagus, the lid decorated with a foliated cross, was dug up and re-interred. on the south side of the "round," between two columns, his feet resting upon a lion, reposes a great historical personage, william marshall, the protector of england during the minority of king henry iii., a warrior and a statesman whose name is sullied by no crimes. the features are handsome, and the whole body is wrapped in chain mail. a crusader in early life, the earl became one of richard coeur de lion's vicegerents during his absence in palestine. he fought in normandy for king john, helped in the capture of prince arthur and his sister, urged the usurper to sign magna charta, and secured the throne for prince henry. finally, he defeated the french invaders, routed the french at sea, and died, in the fulness of years, a warrior whose deeds had been notable, a statesman whose motives could seldom be impugned. shakespeare, with ever a keen eye for great men, makes the earl the interceder for prince arthur. he was a great benefactor of the brethren of the chivalry of the temple. by the side of the earl reposes his warlike son william marshall the younger, cut in freestone. he was one of the chief leaders of the barons against john, and in henry's reign he overthrew prince llewellyn, and slew , wild welsh. he fought with credit in brittany and ireland, and eventually married eleanor, the king's sister. he gave an estate to the templars. the effigy is clad in a shirt of ring mail, above which is a loose garment, girded at the waist. the shield on the left arm bears a lion rampant. near the western doorway reclines the mailed effigy of gilbert marshall, earl of pembroke, third son of the protector. he is in the act of drawing a sword, and his left foot rests on a winged dragon. this earl, at the murder of a brother in ireland, succeeded to the title, and married margaret, a daughter of the king of scotland. he was just starting for the crusades, when he was killed by a fall from his horse, in a tournament held at ware, ( ). like the other marshalls, he was a benefactor of the temple, and, like all the four sons of the protector, died without issue, in the reign of henry iii., the family becoming extinct with him. matthew paris declared that the race had been cursed by the bishop of fernes, from whom the protector had stolen lands. the bishop, says the chronicler, with great awe came with king henry to the temple church, and, standing at the earl's tomb, promised the dead man absolution if the lands were returned. no restitution was made, so the curse fell on the doomed race. all these pembrokes wear chain hoods and have animals recumbent at their feet. the name of a beautiful recumbent mailed figure next gilbert marshall is unknown, and near him, on the south side of the "round," rests the ever-praying effigy of robert, lord de ros. this lord was no templar, for he has no beard, and wears flowing hair, contrary to the rules of the order. his shield bears three water buckets. the figure is cut out of yellow roach abbey stone. the armour is linked. this knight was fined £ by richard coeur de lion for allowing a french prisoner of consequence to escape from his custody. he married a daughter of a king of scotland, was sheriff of cumberland, helped to extort magna charta from king john, and gave much public property to the templars. during the repairs of the round tower several sarcophagi of purbeck marble were discovered. on the coffins being removed while the tower was being propped, the bodies all crumbled to dust. the sarcophagi were all re-interred in the centre of the "round." during the repairs of the workmen discovered and stole an ancient seal of the order; it had the name of berengarius, and on one side was represented the holy sepulchre. "the churchyard abounds," mr. addison says, "with ancient stone coffins." according to burton, an antiquary of elizabeth's time, there then existed in the temple church a monument to a visitor-general of the order. among other distinguished persons buried in the temple church, for so many ages a place of special sanctity, was william plantagenet, fifth son of henry iii., who died when a youth. henry iii. himself, had at one time resolved to be buried "with the brethren of the chivalry of the temple, expecting and hoping that, through our lord and saviour, it will greatly contribute to the salvation of our soul." queen eleanor also provided for her interment in the temple, but it was otherwise decreed. in the triforium of the temple church have been packed away, like lumber, the greater part of the clumsy monuments that once disfigured the walls and columns below. in this strange museum lord chancellors, councillors of state, learned benchers, barons of the exchequer, masters of the rolls, treasurers, readers, prothonotaries, poets, and authors jostle each other in dusty confusion. at the entrance, under a canopy, is the recumbent figure of the great lawyer of elizabeth's time, edmund plowden. this grave and wise man, being a staunch romanist, was slighted by the protestant queen. it is said that he was so studious in his youth that at one period he never went out of the temple precincts for three whole years. he was treasurer of the middle temple the year the hall was built. selden (that great writer on international law, whose "mare clausum" was a reply to the "mare liberum" of grotius) is buried to the left of the altar, the spot being marked by a monument of white marble. "his grave," says aubrey, "was about ten feet deepe or better, walled up a good way with bricks, of which also the bottome was paved, but the sides at the bottome for about two foot high were of black polished marble, wherein his coffin (covered with black bayes) lyeth, and upon that wall of marble was presently lett downe a huge black marble stone of great thicknesse, with this inscription--'hic jacet corpus johannis seldeni, qui obijt die novembris, .' over this was turned an arch of brick (for the house would not lose their ground), and upon that was throwne the earth," &c. there is a monument in the triforium to edmund gibbon, a herald and an ancestor of the historian. the great writer alluding to this monument says--"my family arms are the same which were borne by the gibbons of kent, in an age when the college of heralds religiously guarded the distinctions of blood and name--a lion rampant gardant between three schollop shells argent, on a field azure. i should not, however, have been tempted to blazon my coat of arms were it not connected with a whimsical anecdote. about the reign of james i., the three harmless schollop shells were changed by edmund gibbon, esq., into three ogresses, or female cannibals, with a design of stigmatising three ladies, his kinswomen, who had provoked him by an unjust lawsuit. but this singular mode of revenge, for which he obtained the sanction of sir william seager, king-at-arms, soon expired with its author; and on his own monument in the temple church the monsters vanish, and the three schollop shells resume their proper and hereditary place." at the latter end of charles ii.'s reign the organ in the temple church became the subject of a singular contest, which was decided by a most remarkable judge. the benchers had determined to have the best organ in london; the competitors for the building were smith and harris. father smith, a german, was renowned for his care in choosing wood without knot or flaw, and for throwing aside every metal or wooden pipe that was not perfect and sound. his stops were also allowed by all to be singularly equal and sweet in tone. the two competitors were each to erect an organ in the temple church, and the best one was to be retained. the competition was carried on with such violence that some of the partisans almost ruined themselves by the money they expended. the night preceding the trial the too zealous friends of harris cut the bellows of smith's organ, and rendered it for the time useless. drs. blow and purcell were employed to show the powers of smith's instrument, and the french organist of queen catherine performed on harris's. the contest continued, with varying success, for nearly a twelvemonth. at length harris challenged his redoubtable rival to make certain additional reed stops, _vox humana_, _cremona_, double bassoon and other stops, within a given time. the controversy was at last terminated by lord chief justice jefferies--the cruel and debauched jefferies, who was himself an accomplished musician--deciding in favour of father smith. part of harris's rejected organ was erected at st. andrew's, holborn, part at christ church cathedral, dublin. father smith, in consequence of his success at the temple, was employed to build an organ for st. paul's, but sir christopher wren would never allow the case to be made large enough to receive all the stops. "the sound and general mechanism of modern instruments," says mr. burge, "are certainly superior to those of father smith's, but for sweetness of tone i have never met in any part of europe with pipes that have equalled his." in the reign of james i. there was a great dispute between the custos of the temple and the two societies. this sinecure office, the gift of the crown, was a rectory without tithes, and the custos was dependent upon voluntary contributions. the benchers, irritated at dr. micklethwaite's arrogant pretensions, shut the doctor out from their dinners. in the reign of charles i., the doctor complained to the king that he received no tithes, was refused precedence as master of the temple, was allowed no share in the deliberations, was not paid for his supernumerary sermons, and was denied ecclesiastical jurisdiction. the doctor thereupon locked up the church and took away the keys; but noy, the attorney-general, snubbed him, and called him "_elatus et superbus_;" and he got nothing, after all, but hard words, for his petition. the learned and judicious hooker, author of "the ecclesiastical polity," was for six years master of the temple--"a place," says izaak walton, "which he accepted rather than desired." travers, a disciple of cartwright the nonconformist, was the lecturer; so hooker, it was said, preached canterbury in the forenoon, and travers geneva in the afternoon. the benchers were divided, and travers being at last silenced by the archbishop, hooker resigned, and in his quiet parsonage of boscombe renewed the contest in print, in his "ecclesiastical polity." when bishop sherlock was master of the temple, the sees of canterbury and london were vacant about the same time ( ); this occasioned an epigram upon sherlock,-- "at the temple one day, sherlock taking a boat, the waterman asked him, 'which way will you float?' 'which way?' says the doctor; 'why, fool, with the stream!' to st. paul's or to lambeth was all one to him." the tide in favour of sherlock was running to st. paul's. he was made bishop of london. during the repairs of the ancient freestone chapel of st. anne, which stood on the south side of the "round," was ruthlessly removed. we had less reverence for antiquity then. the upper storey communicated with the temple church by a staircase opening on the west end of the south aisle of the choir; the lower joined the "round" by a doorway under one of the arches of the circular arcade. the chapel anciently opened upon the cloisters, and formed a private way from the convent to the church. here the papal legate and the highest bishops frequently held conferences; and on sunday mornings the master of the temple held chapters, enjoined penances, made up quarrels, and pronounced absolution. the chapel of st. anne was in the old time much resorted to by barren women, who there prayed for children. in charles ii.'s time, according to "hudibras," "straw bail" and low rascals of that sort lingered about the round, waiting for hire. butler says:-- "retain all sorts of witnesses that ply i' the temple, under trees, or walk the round with knights o' th' posts, about the cross-legg'd knights, their hosts; or wait for customers between the pillar rows in lincoln's inn." in james i.'s time the round, as we find in ben jonson, was a place for appointments; and in otway describes bullies of alsatia, with flapping hats pinned up on one side, sandy, weather-beaten periwigs, and clumsy iron swords clattering at their heels, as conspicuous personages among the knights of the posts and the other peripatetic philosophers of the temple walks. we must now turn to the history of the whole precinct. when the proud order was abolished by the pope, edward ii. granted the temple to aymer de valence, earl of pembroke, who, however, soon surrendered it to the king's cousin, the earl of lancaster, who let it, at their special request, to the students and professors of the common laws; the colony then gradually becoming an organised and collegiate body, edward i. having authorised laymen for the first time to read and plead causes. hugh le despenser for a time held the temple, and on his execution edward iii. appointed the mayor of london its guardian. the mayor closing the watergate caused much vexation to the lawyers rowing by boat to westminster, and the king had to interfere. in the king farmed out the temple rents at £ a year. in the meantime, the knights hospitallers, affecting to be offended at the desecration of holy ground--the bishop of ely's lodgings, a chapel dedicated to à becket, and the door to the temple hall--claimed the forfeited spot. the king granted their request, the annual revenue of the temple then being £ s. d., equal to about £ , of our present money. in , in consideration of £ towards an expedition to france, the warlike king made over the residue of the temple to the hospitallers, who instantly endowed the church with lands and one thousand fagots a year from lillerton wood to keep up the church fires. in this reign chaucer, who is supposed to have been a student of the middle temple, and who is said to have once beaten an insolent franciscan friar in fleet street, gives a eulogistic sketch of a temple manciple, or purveyor of provisions, in the prologue to his wonderful "canterbury tales." "a gentil manciple was there of the temple of whom achatours mighten take ensample, for to ben wise in bying of vitàille; for, whether that he paid or toke by taille, algate he waited so in his achate that he was aye before in good estate. now is not that of god a full fayre grace that swiche a lewèd mannès wit shall face the wisdom of an hepe of lerned men? "of maisters had he more than thries ten, _that were of law expert and curious_; of which there was a dosein in that hous worthy to ben stewardes of rent and land of any lord that is in engleland: to maken him live by his propre good, in honour detteles; but if he were wood, or live as scarsly as him list desire, and able for to helpen all a shire, in any cos that mighte fallen or happe: and yet this manciple sett 'hir aller cappe.'" in the middle temple chaucer is supposed to have formed the acquaintanceship of his graver contemporary, "the moral gower." [illustration: tombs of knights templars (_see page _).] many of the old retainers of the templars became servants of the new lawyers, who had ousted their masters. the attendants at table were still called paniers, as they had formerly been. the dining in pairs, the expulsion from hall for misconduct, and the locking out of chambers were old customs also kept up. the judges of common pleas retained the title of knight, and the fratres servientes of the templars arose again in the character of learned serjeants-at-law, the coif of the modern serjeant being the linen coif of the old freres serjens of the temple. the coif was never, as some suppose, intended to hide the tonsure of priests practising law contrary to ecclesiastical prohibition. the old ceremony of creating serjeants-at-law exactly resembles that once used for receiving fratres servientes into the fraternity of the temple. in wat tyler's rebellion the wild men of kent poured down on the dens of the temple lawyers, pulled down their houses, carried off the books, deeds, and rolls of remembrance, and burnt them in fleet street, to spite the knights hospitallers. walsingham, the chronicler, indeed, says that the rebels--who, by the by, claimed only their rights--had resolved to decapitate all the lawyers of london, to put an end to all the laws that had oppressed them, and to clear the ground for better times. in the reign of henry vi. the overgrown society of the temple divided into two halls, or rather the original two halls of the knights and fratres servientes separated into two societies. brooke, the elizabethan antiquary, says: "to this day, in memory of the old custom, the benchers or ancients of the one society dine once every year in the hall of the other society." sir john fortescue, chief justice of the king's bench in the reign of henry vi., computed the annual expenses of each law student at more than £ --("£ of our present money"--addison). the students were all gentlemen by birth, and at each inn of court there was an academy, where singing, music, and dancing were taught. on festival days, after the offices of the church, the students employed themselves in the study of history and in reading the scriptures. any student expelled one society was refused admission to any of the other societies. a manuscript (_temp._ henry viii.) in the cotton library dwells much on the readings, mootings, boltings, and other practices of the temple students, and analyses the various classes of benchers, readers, cupboardmen, inner barristers, outer barristers, and students. the writer also mentions the fact that in term times the students met to talk law and confer on business in the church, which was, he says, as noisy as st. paul's. when the plague broke out the students went home to the country. the society of the inner temple was very active (says mr. foss) during the reign of henry viii. in the erection of new buildings. several houses for chambers were constructed near the library, and were called pakington's rents, from the name of the treasurer who superintended them. henry bradshaw, treasurer in the twenty-sixth year, gave his name to another set then built, which it kept until chief baron tanfield resided there in the reign of james i., since which it has been called tanfield court. other improvements were made about the same period, one of these being the construction of a new ceiling to the hall and the erection of a wall between the garden and the thames. the attention paid by the governors of the house both to the morals and dress of its members is evidenced by the imposition, in the thirteenth year of the reign of henry viii., of a fine of s. d. on any one who should exercise the plays of "shove-grote" or "slyp-grote," and by the mandate afterwards issued in the thirty-eighth year of the same reign, that students should reform themselves in their cut, or disguised apparel, and should not have long beards. [illustration: the temple in . (from an old bird's-eye view in the inner temple.)] it is in the temple gardens that shakespeare--relying, probably, on some old tradition which does not exist in print--has laid one of the scenes of his _king henry vi._--that, namely, in which the partisans of the rival houses of york and lancaster first assume their distinctive badges of the white and red roses:-- "_suffolk._ within the temple hall we were too loud; the garden here is more convenient. * * * * * "_plantagenet._ let him that is a true-born gentleman, and stands upon the honour of his birth, if he suppose that i have pleaded truth, from off this brier pluck a white rose with me. "_somerset._ let him that is no coward, nor no flatterer, but dare maintain the party of the truth, pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me. * * * * * "_plantagenet._ hath not thy rose a canker, somerset? "_somerset._ hath not thy rose a thorn, plantagenet? * * * * * "_warwick._ this brawl to-day, grown to this faction in the temple garden, shall send, between the red rose and the white, a thousand souls to death and deadly night." _king henry vi._, part i., act ii., sc. . the books of the middle temple do not commence till the reign of king henry vii., the first treasurer named in them being john brooke, in the sixteenth year of henry vii. ( - ). readers were not appointed till the following year, the earliest being john vavasour--probably son of the judge, and not, as dugdale calls him, the judge himself, who had then been on the bench for twelve years. members of the house might be excused from living in commons on account of their wives being in town, or for other special reasons (foss). in the last year of philip and mary ( ) eight gentlemen of the temple were expelled the society and committed to the fleet for wilful disobedience to the bench, but on their humble submission they were readmitted. a year before this a severe act of parliament was passed, prohibiting templars wearing beards of more than three weeks' growth, upon pain of a forty-shilling fine, and double for every week after monition. the young lawyers were evidently getting too foppish. they were required to cease wearing spanish cloaks, swords, bucklers, rapiers, gowns, hats, or daggers at their girdles. only knights and benchers were to display doublets or hose of any light colour, except scarlet and crimson, or to affect velvet caps, scarf-wings to their gowns, white jerkins, buskins, velvet shoes, double shirt-cuffs, or feathers or ribbons in their caps. more over, no attorney was to be admitted into either house. these monastic rules were intended to preserve the gravity of the profession, and must have pleased the poloniuses and galled the mercutios of those troublous days. in elizabeth's days master gerard leigh, a pedantic scholar of the college of heralds, persuaded the misguided inner temple to abandon the old templar arms--a plain red cross on a shield argent, with a lamb bearing the banner of the sinless profession, surmounted by a red cross. the heraldic euphuist substituted for this a flying pegasus striking out the fountain of hippocrene with its hoofs, with the appended motto of "volat ad astera virtus," a recondite allusion to men, like chaucer and gower, who, it is said, had turned from lawyers to poets. chapter xv. the temple (_continued_). the middle temple hall: its roof, busts, and portraits--manningham's diary--fox hunts in hall--the grand revels--spenser--sir j. davis--a present to a king--masques and royal visitors at the temple--fires in the temple--the last great revel in the hall--temple anecdotes--the gordon riots--john scott and his pretty wife--colman "keeping terms"--blackstone's "farewell"--burke--sheridan--a pair of epigrams--hare court--the barber's shop--johnson and the literary club--charles lamb--goldsmith: his life, troubles, and extravagances--"hack work" for booksellers--_the deserted village_--_she stoops to conquer_--goldsmith's death and burial. in the glorious reign of elizabeth the old middle temple hall was converted into chambers, and a new hall built. the present roof (says mr. peter cunningham) is the best piece of elizabethan architecture in london. the screen, in the renaissance style, was long supposed to be an exact copy of the strand front of old somerset house; but this is a vulgar error; nor could it have been made of timber from the spanish armada, for the simple reason that it was set up thirteen years before the armada was organised. the busts of "doubting" lord eldon and his brother, lord stowell, the great admiralty judge, are by behnes. the portraits are chiefly second-rate copies. the exterior was cased with stone, in "wretched taste," in . the diary of an elizabethan barrister, named manningham, preserved in the harleian miscellanies, has preserved the interesting fact that in this hall in february, --probably, says mr. collier, six months after its first appearance at the globe--shakespeare's _twelfth night_ was acted. "feb. , ( ).--at our feast," says manningham, "we had a play called _twelve night, or what you will_, much like the _comedy of errors_ or _menechmi in plautus_, but most like and neere to that in italian called _inganni_. a good practice in it is to make the steward believe his lady widdowe was in love with him, by counterfayting a letter, as from his lady, in generall terms telling him what shee liked best in him, and prescribing his gestures, inscribing his apparaile, &c., and then, when he came to practise, making him believe they tooke him to be mad." the temple revels in the olden time were indeed gorgeous outbursts of mirth and hospitality. one of the most splendid of these took place in the fourth year of elizabeth's reign, when the queen's favourite, lord robert dudley (afterwards the great earl of leicester) was elected palaphilos, constable or marshal of the inn, to preside over the christmas festivities. he had lord chancellor and judges, eighty guards, officers of the household, and other distinguished persons to attend him; and another of the queen's subsequent favourites, christopher hatton--a handsome youth, remarkable for his skill in dancing--was appointed master of the games. the daily banquets of the constable were announced by the discharge of a double cannon, and drums and fifes summoned the mock court to the common hall, while sackbuts, cornets, and recorders heralded the arrival of every course. at the first remove a herald at the high table cried,--"the mighty palaphilos, prince of sophie, high constable, marshal of the knights templars, patron of the honourable order of pegasus!--a largesse! a largesse!" upon which the prince of sophie tossed the man a gold chain worth a thousand talents. the supper ended, the king-at-arms entered, and, doing homage, announced twenty-four special gentlemen, whom pallas had ordered him to present to palaphilos as knights-elect of the order of pegasus. the twenty-four gentlemen at once appeared, in long white vestures, with scarves of pallas's colours, and the king-at-arms, bowing to each, explained to them the laws of the new order. for every feast the steward provided five fat hams, with spices and cakes, and the chief butler seven dozen gilt and silver spoons, twelve damask table-cloths, and twenty candlesticks. the constable wore gilt armour and a plumed helmet, and bore a poleaxe in his hands. on st. thomas's eve a parliament was held, when the two youngest brothers, bearing torches, preceded the procession of benchers, the officers' names were called, and the whole society passed round the hearth singing a carol. on christmas eve the minstrels, sounding, preceded the dishes, and, dinner done, sang a song at the high table; after dinner the oldest master of the revels and other gentlemen singing songs. on christmas day the feast grew still more feudal and splendid. at the great meal at noon the minstrels and a long train of servitors bore in the blanched boar's head, with a golden lemon in its jaws, the trumpeters being preceded by two gentlemen in gowns, bearing four torches of white wax. on st. stephen's day the younger templars waited at table upon the benchers. at the first course the constable entered, to the sound of horns, preceded by sixteen swaggering trumpeters, while the halberdiers bore "the tower" on their shoulders and marched gravely three times round the fire. on st. john's day the constable was up at seven, and personally called and reprimanded any tardy officers, who were sometimes committed to the tower for disorder. if any officer absented himself at meals, any one sitting in his place was compelled to pay his fee and assume his office. any offender, if he escaped into the oratory, could claim sanctuary, and was pardoned if he returned into the hall humbly and as a servitor, carrying a roll on the point of a knife. no one was allowed to sing after the cheese was served. on childermas day, new year's day, and twelfth night the same costly feasts were continued, only that on thursday there was roast beef and venison pasty for dinner, and mutton and roast hens were served for supper. the final banquet closing all was preceded by a dance, revel, play, or mask, the gentlemen of every inn of court and chancery being invited, and the hall furnished with side scaffolds for the ladies, who were feasted in the library. the lord chancellor and the ancients feasted in the hall, the templars serving. the feast over, the constable, in his gilt armour, ambled into the hall on a caparisoned mule, and arranged the sequence of sports. the constable then, with three reverences, knelt before the king of the revels, and, delivering up his naked sword, prayed to be taken into the royal service. next entered hatton, the master of the game, clad in green velvet, his rangers arrayed in green satin. blowing "a blast of venery" three times on their horns, and holding green-coloured bows and arrows in their hands, the rangers paced three times round the central fire, then knelt to the king of the revels, and desired admission into the royal service. next ensued a strange and barbarous ceremony. a huntsman entered with a live fox and cat and nine or ten couple of hounds, and, to the blast of horns and wild shouting, the poor creatures were torn to shreds, for the amusement of the applauding templars. at supper the constable entered to the sound of drums, borne upon a scaffold by four men, and as he was carried three times round the hearth every one shouted, "a lord! a lord!" he then descended, called together his mock court, by such fantastic names as-- sir francis flatterer, of fowlershurst, in the county of buckingham; sir randal rakabite, of rascal hall, in the county of rakebell; sir morgan mumchance, of much monkery, in the county of mad mopery; and the banquet then began, every man having a gilt pot full of wine, and each one paying sixpence for his repast. that night, when the lights were put out, the noisy, laughing train passed out of the portal, and the long revels were ended. "sir edward coke," says lord campbell, writing of this period, "first evinced his forensic powers when deputed by the students to make a representation to the benchers of the inner temple respecting the bad quality of their _commons_ in the hall. after laboriously studying the facts and the law of the case, he clearly proved that the cook had broken his engagement, and was liable to be dismissed. this, according to the phraseology of the day, was called 'the cook's case,' and he was said to have argued it with so much quickness of penetration and solidity of judgment, that he gave entire satisfaction to the students, and was much admired by the bench." in his exquisite "prothalamion" spenser alludes to the temple as if he had sketched it from the river, after a visit to his great patron, the earl of essex,-- "those bricky towers, the which on thames' broad, aged back doe ride, where now the studious lawyers have their bowers, there whilom wont the templar knights to bide, till they decayed through pride." sir john davis, the author of "nosce teipsum," that fine mystic poem on the immortality of the soul, and of that strange philosophical rhapsody on dancing, was expelled the temple in elizabeth's reign, for thrashing his friend, another roysterer of the day, mr. richard martin, in the middle temple hall; but afterwards, on proper submission, he was readmitted. davis afterwards reformed, and became the wise attorney-general of ireland. his biographer says, that the preface to his "irish reports" vies with coke for solidity and blackstone for elegance. martin (whose monument is now hoarded up in the triforium) also became a learned lawyer and a friend of selden's, and was the person to whom ben jonson dedicated his bitter play, _the poetaster_. in the dedication the poet says, "for whose innocence as for the author's you were once a noble and kindly undertaker: signed, your true lover, ben jonson." on the accession of james i. some of his hungry scotch courtiers attempted to obtain from the king a grant of the fee-simple of the temple; upon which the two indignant societies made "humble suit" to the king, and obtained a grant of the property to themselves. the grant was signed in , the benchers paying £ annually to the king for the inner temple, and £ for the middle. in gratitude for this concession, the two loyal societies presented his majesty with a stately gold cup, weighing - / ounces, which james "most graciously" accepted. on one side was engraved a temple, on the other a flaming altar, with the words _nil nisi vobis_; on the pyramidical cover stood a roman soldier leaning on his shield. this cup the bibulous monarch ever afterwards esteemed as one of his rarest and richest jewels. in james issued another of those absurd and trumpery sumptuary edicts, recommending the ancient way of wearing caps, and requesting the templars to lay aside their unseemly boots and spurs, the badges of "roarers, rakes, and bullies." the temple feasts continued to be as lavish and magnificent as in the days of queen mary, when no reader was allowed to contribute less than fifteen bucks to the hall dinner, and many during their readings gave fourscore or a hundred. on the marriage ( ) of the lady elizabeth, daughter of king james i., with prince frederick, the unfortunate elector-palatine, the temple and gray's inn men gave a masque, of which sir francis bacon was the chief contriver. the masque came to whitehall by water from winchester place, in southwark; three peals of ordnance greeting them as they embarked with torches and lamps, as they passed the temple garden, and as they landed. this short trip cost £ . the king, after all, was so tired, and the hall so crowded, that the masque was adjourned till the saturday following, when all went well. the next night the king gave a supper to the forty masquers; prince charles and his courtiers, who had lost a wager to the king at running at the ring, paying for the banquet £ a man. the masquers, who dined with forty of the chief nobles, kissed his majesty's hand. shortly after this twenty templars fought at barriers, in honour of prince charles, the benchers contributing thirty shillings each to the expenses; the barristers of seven years' standing, fifteen shillings; and the other gentlemen in commons, ten shillings. one of the grandest masques ever given by the templars was one which cost £ , , and was presented, in , to charles i. and his french queen. bulstrode whitelocke, then in his youth, gives a vivid picture of this pageant, which was meant to refute prynne's angry "histro-mastix." noy and selden were members of the committee, and many grave heads met together to discuss the dances, dresses, and music. the music was written by milton's friend, lawes, the libretto by shirley. the procession set out from ely house, in holborn, on candlemas day, in the evening. the four chariots that bore the sixteen masquers were preceded by twenty footmen in silver-laced scarlet liveries, who carried torches and cleared the way. after these rode gentlemen from the inns of court, mounted and richly clad, every gentleman having two lackeys with torches and a page to carry his cloak. then followed the other masquers--beggars on horseback and boys dressed as birds. the colours of the first chariot were crimson and silver, the four horses being plumed and trapped in parti-coloured tissue. the middle temple rode next, in blue and silver; and the inner temple and lincoln's inn followed in equal bravery, of the suits being reckoned to have cost £ , . the masque was most perfectly performed in the banqueting house at whitehall, the queen dancing with several of the masquers, and declaring them to be as good dancers as ever she saw. the year after the restoration sir heneage finch, afterwards earl of nottingham, kept his "reader's feast" in the great hall of the inner temple. at that time of universal vice, luxury, and extravagance, the banquet lasted from the th to the th of august. it was, in fact, open house to all london. the first day came the nobles and privy councillors; the second, the lord mayor and aldermen; the third, the whole college of physicians in their mortuary caps and gowns; the fourth, the doctors and advocates of civil law; on the fifth day, the archbishops, bishops, and obsequious clergy; and on the fifteenth, as a last grand explosion, the king, the duke of york, the duke of buckingham, and half the peers. an entrance was made from the river through the wall of the temple garden, the king being received on landing by the reader and the lord chief justice of the common pleas; the path from the garden to the wall was lined with the reader's servants, clad in scarlet cloaks and white doublets; while above them stood the benchers, barristers, and students, music playing all the while, and twenty violins welcoming charles into the hall with unanimous scrape and quaver. dinner was served by fifty young students in their gowns, no meaner servants appearing. in the november following the duke of york, the duke of buckingham, and the earl of dorset were admitted members of the society of the inner temple. six years after, prince rupert, then a grizzly old cavalry soldier, and addicted to experiments in chemistry and engraving in his house in the barbican, received the same honour. the great fire of , says mr. jeaffreson, in his "law and lawyers," was stayed in its westward course at the temple; but it was not suppressed until the flames had consumed many sets of chambers, had devoured the title-deeds of a vast number of valuable estates, and had almost licked the windows of the temple church. clarendon has recorded that on the occasion of this stupendous calamity, which occurred when a large proportion of the templars were out of town, the lawyers in residence declined to break open the chambers and rescue the property of absent members of their society, through fear of prosecution for burglary. another great fire, some years later (january, - ), destroyed the old cloisters and part of the old hall of the inner temple, and the greater part of the residential buildings of the "old temple." breaking out at midnight, and lasting till noon of next day, it devoured, in the middle temple, the whole of pump court (in which locality it originated), elm-tree court, vine court, and part of brick court; in the inner temple the cloisters, the greater part of hare court, and part of the hall. the night was bitterly cold, and the templars, aroused from their beds to preserve life and property, could not get an adequate supply of water from the thames, which the unusual severity of the season had frozen. in this difficulty they actually brought barrels of ale from the temple butteries, and fed the engines with the malt liquor. of course this supply of fluid was soon exhausted, so the fire spreading eastward, the lawyers fought it by blowing up the buildings that were in immediate danger. gunpowder was more effectual than beer; but the explosions were sadly destructive to human life. amongst the buildings thus demolished was the library of the inner temple. naturally, but with no apparent good reason, the sufferers by the fire attributed it to treachery on the part of persons unknown, just as the citizens attributed the fire of to the papists. it is more probable that the calamity was caused by some such accident as that which occasioned the fire which, during john campbell's attorney-generalship, destroyed a large amount of valuable property, and had its origin in the clumsiness of a barrister who upset upon his fire a vessel full of spirit. of this fire lord campbell observes:--"when i was attorney-general, my chambers in paper buildings, temple, were burnt to the ground in the night-time, and all my books and manuscripts, with some valuable official papers, were consumed. above all, i had to lament a collection of letters written to me by my dear father, from the time of my going to college till his death in . all lamented this calamity except the claimant of a peerage, some of whose documents (suspected to be forged) he hoped were destroyed; but fortunately they had been removed into safe custody a few days before, and the claim was dropped." the fire here alluded to broke out in the chambers of one thornbury, in pump court. [illustration: the old hall of the inner temple (_see page _).] "i remember," says north in his "life of lord keeper guildford," "that after the fire of the temple it was considered whether the old cloister walks should be rebuilt or rather improved into chambers, which latter had been for the benefit of the middle temple; but, in regard that it could not be done without the consent of the inner houses, the masters of the middle houses waited upon the then mr. attorney finch to desire the concurrence of his society upon a proposition of some benefit to be thrown in on his side. but mr. attorney would by no means give way to it, and reproved the middle templars very bitterly and eloquently upon the subject of students walking in evenings there, and putting 'cases,' which, he said, 'was done in his time, mean and low as the buildings were then. however, it comes,' he said, 'that such a benefit to students is now made little account of.' and thereupon the cloisters, by the order and disposition of sir christopher wren, were built as they now stand." [illustration: door from the middle temple. wig-shop in the middle temple. door from the inner temple. fireplace in the inner temple. screen of the middle temple hall. buttery of the inner temple.] the last revel in any of the inns of court was held in the inner temple, february, (george ii.), in honour of mr. talbot, a bencher of that house, accepting the great seal. the ceremony is described by an eye-witness in "wynne's eunomus." the lord chancellor arrived at two o'clock, preceded by mr. wollaston, master of the revels, and followed by dr. sherlock, bishop of bangor, master of the temple, and the judges and serjeants formerly of the inner temple. there was an elegant dinner provided for them and the chancellor's officers, but the barristers and students had only the usual meal of grand days, except that each man was furnished with a flask of claret besides the usual allowance of port and sack. fourteen students waited on the bench table: among them was mr. talbot, the lord chancellor's eldest son, and by their means any special dish was easily obtainable from the upper table. a large gallery was built over the screen for the ladies; and music, placed in the little gallery at the upper end of the hall, played all dinner-time. as soon as dinner was over, the play of _love for love_ and the farce of _the devil to pay_ were acted, the actors coming from the haymarket in chaises, all ready-dressed. it was said they refused all gratuity, being satisfied with the honour of performing before such an audience. after the play, the lord chancellor, the master of the temple, the judges and benchers retired into their parliament chamber, and in about half an hour afterwards came into the hall again, and a large ring was formed round the fire-place (but no fire nor embers were in it). then the master of the revels, who went first, took the lord chancellor by the right hand, and he with his left took mr. j[ustice] page, who, joined to the other judges, serjeants, and benchers present, danced, or rather walked, round about the coal fire, according to the old ceremony, three times, during which they were aided in the figure of the dance by mr. george cooke, the prothonotary, then upwards of sixty; and all the time of the dance the _ancient song_, accompanied with music, was sung by one tony aston (an actor), dressed in a bar gown, whose father had been formerly master of the plea office in the king's bench. when this was over, the ladies came down from the gallery, went into the parliament chamber, and stayed about a quarter of an hour, while the hall was putting in order. then they went into the hall and danced a few minutes. country dances began about ten, and at twelve a very fine collation was provided for the whole company, from which they returned to dancing. the prince of wales honoured the performance with his company part of the time. he came into the music gallery wing about the middle of the play, and went away as soon as the farce of walking round the coal fire was over. mr. peter cunningham, _apropos_ of these revels, mentions that when the floor of the middle temple hall was taken up in there were found nearly one hundred pair of very small dice, yellowed by time, which had dropped through the chinks above. the same writer caps this fact by one of his usually apposite quotations. wycherly, in his _plain dealer_ ( --charles ii.), makes freeman, one of his characters, say:--"methinks 'tis like one of the halls in christmas time, whither from all parts fools bring their money to try the dice (nor the worst judges), whether it shall be their own or no." the inner temple hall (the refectory of the ancient knights) was almost entirely rebuilt in . the roof was overloaded with timber, the west wall was cracking, and the wooden cupola of the bell let in the rain. the pointed arches and rude sculpture at the entrance doors showed great antiquity, but the northern wall had been rebuilt in . the incongruous doric screen was surmounted by lions' heads, cones, and other anomalous devices, and in low, classic windows had been inserted in the south front. of the old hall, where the templars frequently held their chapters, and at different times entertained king john, king henry iii., and several of the legates, several portions still remain. a very ancient groined gothic arch forms the roof of the present buttery, and in the apartment beyond there is a fine groined and vaulted ceiling. in the cellars below are old walls of vast thickness, part of an ancient window, a curious fire-place, and some pointed arches, all now choked with modern brick partitions and dusty staircases. these vaults formerly communicated by a cloister with the chapel of st. anne, on the south side of the church. in the reign of james i. some brick chambers, three storeys high, were erected over the cloister, but were burnt down in . in the cloister chambers were again rebuilt. during the formation of the present new entrance to the temple by the church at the bottom of inner temple lane, when some old houses were removed, the masons came on a strong ancient wall of chalk and ragstone, supposed to have been the ancient northern boundary of the convent. let us cull a few temple anecdotes from various ages:-- in november, , erskine, in the house of lords, speaking upon lord lansdowne's motion for an inquiry into the state of the country, condemned the conduct of the yeomanry at the "manchester massacre." "by an ordinary display of spirit and resolution," observed the brilliant egotist to his brother peers (who were so impressed by his complacent volubility and good-humoured self-esteem, that they were for the moment ready to take him at his own valuation), "insurrection may be repressed without violating the law or the constitution. in the riots of , when the mob were preparing to attack the house of lord mansfield, i offered to defend it with a small military force; but this offer was unluckily rejected. afterwards, being in the temple when the rioters were preparing to force the gate and had fired several times, i went to the gate, opened it, and showed them a field-piece, which i was prepared to discharge in case the attack was persisted in. they were daunted, fell back, and dispersed." judge burrough (says mr. jeaffreson, in his "law and lawyers") used to relate that when the gordon rioters besieged the temple he and a strong body of barristers, headed by a sergeant of the guards, were stationed in inner temple lane, and that, having complete confidence in the strength of their massive gate, they spoke bravely of their desire to be fighting on the other side. at length the gate was forced. the lawyers fell into confusion and were about to beat a retreat, when the sergeant, a man of infinite humour, cried out in a magnificent voice, "take care no gentleman fires from behind." the words struck awe into the assailants and caused the barristers to laugh. the mob, who had expected neither laughter nor armed resistance, took to flight, telling all whom they met that the bloody-minded lawyers were armed to the teeth and enjoying themselves. the temple was saved. when these gordon rioters filled london with alarm, no member of the junior bar was more prosperous and popular than handsome jack scott, and as he walked from his house in carey street to the temple, with his wife on his arm, he returned the greetings of the barristers, who, besides liking him for a good fellow, thought it prudent to be on good terms with a man sure to achieve eminence. dilatory in his early as well as his later years, scott left his house that morning half an hour late. already it was known to the mob that the templars were assembling in their college, and a cry of "the temple! kill the lawyers!" had been raised in whitefriars and essex street. before they reached the middle temple gate mr. and mrs. scott were assaulted more than once. the man who won bessie surtees from a host of rivals and carried her away against the will of her parents and the wishes of his own father, was able to protect her from serious violence. but before the beautiful creature was safe within the temple her dress was torn, and when at length she stood in the centre of a crowd of excited and admiring barristers, her head was bare and her ringlets fell loose upon her shoulders. "the scoundrels have got your hat, bessie," whispered john scott; "but never mind--they have left you your hair." in lord eldon's "anecdote book" there is another gate story amongst the notes on the gordon riots. "we youngsters," says the aged lawyer, "at the temple determined that we would not remain inactive during such times; so we introduced ourselves into a troop to assist the military. we armed ourselves as well as we could, and next morning we drew up in the court ready to follow out a troop of soldiers who were on guard. when, however, the soldiers had passed through the gate it was suddenly shut in our faces, and the officer in command shouted from the other side, 'gentlemen, i am much obliged to you for your intended assistance; but i do not choose to allow my soldiers to be shot, so i have ordered you to be locked in.'" and away he galloped. the elder colman decided on making the younger one a barrister; and after visits to scotland and switzerland, the son returned to soho square, and found that his father had taken for him chambers in the temple, and entered him as a student at lincoln's inn, where he afterwards kept a few terms by eating oysters. upon this mr. peake notes:--"the students of lincoln's inn keep term by dining, or pretending to dine, in the hall during the term time. those who feed there are accommodated with wooden trenchers instead of plates, and previously to the dinner oysters are served up by way of prologue to the play. eating the oysters, or going into the hall without eating them, if you please, and then departing to dine elsewhere, is quite sufficient for term-keeping." the chambers in king's bench walk were furnished with a tent-bedstead, two tables, half-a-dozen chairs, and a carpet as much too scanty for the boards as sheridan's "rivulet of rhyme" for its "meadow of margin." to these the elder colman added £ worth of law books which had been given to him in his own lincoln's inn days by lord bath; then enjoining the son to work hard, the father left town upon a party of pleasure. colman had sent his son to switzerland to get him away from a certain miss catherine morris, an actress of the haymarket company. this answered for a time, but no sooner had the father left the son in the temple than he set off with miss morris to gretna green, and was there married, in ; and four years after, the father's sanction having been duly obtained, they were publicly married at chelsea church. in the same staircase with colman, in the temple, lived the witty jekyll, who, seeing in colman's chambers a round cage with a squirrel in it, looked for a minute or two at the little animal, which was performing the same operation as a man in the treadmill, and then quietly said, "ah, poor devil! he is going the home circuit;" the locality where it was uttered--the temple--favouring this technical joke. on the morning young colman began his studies (december , ) he was interrupted by the intelligence that the funeral procession of the great dr. johnson was on its way from his late residence, bolt court, through fleet street, to westminster abbey. colman at once threw down his pen, and ran forth to see the procession, but was disappointed to find it much less splendid and imposing than the sepulchral pomp of garrick five years before. dr. dibdin thus describes the garden walks of the last century:--"towards evening it was the fashion for the leading counsel to promenade during the summer months in the temple gardens. cocked hats and ruffles, with satin small-clothes and silk stockings, at this time constituted the usual evening dress. lord erskine, though a great deal shorter than his brethren, somehow always seemed to take the lead, both in place and in discourse, and shouts of laughter would frequently follow his dicta." ugly dunning, afterwards the famous lord ashburton, entered the middle temple in , and was called four years later, in . lord chancellor thurlow used to describe him wittily as "the knave of clubs." home tooke, dunning, and kenyon were accustomed to dine together, during the vacation, at a little eating-house in the neighbourhood of chancery lane for the sum of sevenpence-halfpenny each. "as to dunning and myself," said tooke, "we were generous, for we gave the girl who waited upon us a penny a piece; but kenyon, who always knew the value of money, sometimes rewarded her with a halfpenny, and sometimes with a promise." blackstone, before dedicating his powers finally to the study of the law in which he afterwards became so famous, wrote in temple chambers his "farewell to the muse:"-- "lulled by the lapse of gliding floods, cheer'd by the warbling of the woods, how blest my days, my thoughts how free, in sweet society with thee! then all was joyous, all was young, and years unheeded roll'd along; but now the pleasing dream is o'er-- these scenes must charm me now no more. lost to the field, and torn from you, farewell!--a long, a last adieu! * * * * * then welcome business, welcome strife, welcome the cares, the thorns of life, the visage wan, the purblind sight, the toil by day, the lamp by night, the tedious forms, the solemn prate, the pert dispute, the dull debate, the drowsy bench, the babbling hall,-- for thee, fair justice, welcome all!" that great orator, edmund burke, was entered at the middle temple in , when the heads of the scotch rebels of were still fresh on the spikes of temple bar, and he afterwards came to keep his terms in . in he occupied a two-pair chamber at the "pope's head," the shop of jacob robinson, the twickenham poet's publisher, just within the inner temple gateway. burke took a dislike, however, perhaps fortunately for posterity, to the calf-skin books, and was never called to the bar. richard brinsley sheridan, an irishman even more brilliant, but unfortunately far less prudent, than burke, entered his name in the middle temple books a few days before his elopement with miss linley. "a wit," says archdeacon nares, in his pleasant book, "heraldic anomalies," "once chalked the following lines on the temple gate:"-- "as by the templars' hold you go, the horse and lamb display'd in emblematic figures show the merits of their trade. "the clients may infer from thence how just is their profession; the lamb sets forth their innocence, the horse their expedition. "oh, happy britons! happy isle! let foreign nations say, where you get justice without guile and law without delay." a rival wag replied to these lively lines by the following severer ones:-- "deluded men, these holds forego, nor trust such cunning elves; these artful emblems tend to show their _clients_--not _themselves_. "'tis all a trick; these are all shams by which they mean to cheat you: but have a care--for _you're_ the _lambs_, and they the _wolves_ that eat you. "nor let the thought of 'no delay' to these their courts misguide you; 'tis you're the showy _horse_, and _they_ the _jockeys_ that will ride you." hare court is said to derive its name from sir nicholas hare, who was privy councillor to henry viii. the despotic, and master of the rolls to queen mary the cruel. heaven only knows what stern decisions and anti-heretical indictments have not been drawn up in that quaint enclosure. the immortal pump, which stands as a special feature of the court, has been mentioned by the poet garth in his "dispensary:"-- "and dare the college insolently aim, to equal our fraternity in fame? then let crabs' eyes with pearl for virtue try, or highgate hill with lofty pindus vie; so glowworms may compare with titan's beams, and hare court pump with aganippe's streams." in essex court one solitary barber remains: his shop is the last wigwam of a departing tribe. dick danby's, in the cloisters, used to be famous. in his "lives of the chief justices," lord campbell has some pleasant gossip about dick danby, the temple barber. in our group of antiquities of the temple on page will be found an engraving of the existing barber's shop. "one of the most intimate friends," he says, "i have ever had in the world was dick danby, who kept a hairdresser's shop under the cloisters in the inner temple. i first made his acquaintance from his assisting me, when a student at law, to engage a set of chambers. he afterwards cut my hair, made my bar wigs, and aided me at all times with his valuable advice. he was on the same good terms with most of my forensic contemporaries. thus he became master of all the news of the profession, and he could tell who were getting on, and who were without a brief--who succeeded by their talents, and who hugged the attorneys--who were desirous of becoming puisne judges, and who meant to try their fortunes in parliament--which of the chiefs was in a failing state of health, and who was next to be promoted to the collar of s.s. poor fellow! he died suddenly, and his death threw a universal gloom over westminster hall, unrelieved by the thought that the survivors who mourned him might pick up some of his business--a consolation which wonderfully softens the grief felt for a favourite nisi prius leader." in spite of all the great lawyers who have been nurtured in the temple, it has derived its chief fame from the residence within its precincts of three civilians--dr. johnson, goldsmith, and charles lamb. dr. johnson came to the temple (no. , inner temple lane) from gray's inn in , and left it for johnson's court (fleet street) about . when he first came to the temple he was loitering over his edition of "shakespeare." in a pension of £ a year for the first time made him independent of the booksellers. in boswell made his acquaintance and visited ursa major in his den. "it must be confessed," says boswell, "that his apartments, furniture, and morning dress were sufficiently uncouth. his brown suit of clothes looked very rusty; he had on a little old shrivelled, unpowdered wig, which was too small for his head; his shirt neck and the knees of his breeches were loose, his black worsted stockings ill drawn up, and he had a pair of unbuckled shoes by way of slippers." at this time johnson generally went abroad at four in the afternoon, and seldom came home till two in the morning. he owned it was a bad habit. he generally had a levee of morning visitors, chiefly men of letters--hawkesworth, goldsmith, murphy, langton, stevens, beauclerk, &c.--and sometimes learned ladies. "when madame de boufflers (the mistress of the prince of conti) was first in england," said beauclerk, "she was desirous to see johnson. i accordingly went with her to his chambers in the temple, where she was entertained with his conversation for some time. when our visit was over, she and i left him, and were got into inner temple lane, when all at once i heard a voice like thunder. this was occasioned by johnson, who, it seems, upon a little reflection, had taken it into his head that he ought to have done the honours of his literary residence to a foreign lady of quality, and, eager to show himself a man of gallantry, was hurrying down the staircase in violent agitation. he overtook us before we reached the temple gate, and, brushing in between me and madame de boufflers, seized her hand and conducted her to her coach. his dress was a rusty-brown morning suit, a pair of old shoes by way of slippers, &c. a considerable crowd of people gathered round, and were not a little struck by his singular appearance." it was in the year , while johnson was living in the temple, that the literary club was founded; and it was in the following year that this wise and good man was seized with one of those fits of hypochondria that occasionally weighed upon that great intellect. boswell had chambers, not far from the god of his idolatry, at what were once called "farrar's buildings," at the bottom of inner temple lane. [illustration: oliver goldsmith (_see page _).] charles lamb came to , inner temple lane, in . writing to coleridge, the delightful humorist says:--"i have been turned out of my chambers in the temple by a landlord who wanted them for himself; but i have got others at no. , inner temple lane, far more commodious and roomy. i have two rooms on the third floor, and five rooms above, with an inner staircase to myself, and all new painted, &c., for £ a year. the rooms are delicious, and the best look backwards into hare court, where there is a pump always going; just now it is dry. hare court's trees come in at the window, so that it's like living in a garden." in he says:--"the household gods are slow to come; but here i mean to live and die." from this place (since pulled down and rebuilt) he writes to manning, who is in china:--"come, and bring any of your friends the mandarins with you. my best room commands a court, in which there are trees and a pump, the water of which is excellent, cold--with brandy; and not very insipid without." he sends manning some of his little books, to give him "some idea of european literature." it is in this letter that he speaks of braham and his singing, and jokes "on titles of honour," exemplifying the eleven gradations, by which mr. c. lamb rose in succession to be baron, marquis, duke, emperor lamb, and finally pope innocent; and other lively matters fit to solace an english mathematician self-banished to china. the same year mary lamb describes her brother taking to water like a hungry otter--abstaining from all spirituous liquors, but with the most indifferent result, as he became full of cramps and rheumatism, and so cold internally that fire could not warm him. it is but just to lamb to mention that this ascetic period was brief. this same year lamb wrote his fine essays on hogarth and the tragedies of shakespeare. he was already getting weary of the dull routine of official work at the india house. [illustration: goldsmith's tomb in (_see page _).] goldsmith came to the temple, early in , from wine office court. it was a hard year with him, though he published "the traveller," and opened fruitless negotiations with dodsley and tonson. "he took," says mr. forster, "rooms on the then library-staircase of the temple. they were a humble set of chambers enough (one jeffs, the butler of the society, shared them with him), and on johnson's prying and peering about in them, after his short-sighted fashion flattening his face against every object he looked at, goldsmith's uneasy sense of their deficiencies broke out. 'i shall soon be in better chambers, sir, than these,' he said. 'nay, sir,' answered johnson, 'never mind that--_nil te quæsiveris extra_.'" he soon hurried off to the quiet of islington, as some say, to secretly write the erudite history of "goody two-shoes" for newbery. in various publications, or perhaps the money for "the vicar," enabled the author to move to larger chambers in garden court, close to his first set, and one of the most agreeable localities in the temple. he now carried out his threat to johnson--started a man-servant, and ran into debt with his usual gay and thoughtless vanity to mr. filby, the tailor, of water lane, for coats of divers colours. goldsmith began to feel his importance, and determined to show it. in "the vicar of wakefield" (price five shillings, sewed) secured his fame, but he still remained in difficulties. in he wrote the _good-natured man_, knocked off an english grammar for five guineas, and was only saved from extreme want by davies employing him to write a "history of rome" for guineas. in parson scott (lord sandwich's chaplain), busily going about to negotiate for writers, describes himself as applying to goldsmith; among others, to induce him to write in favour of the administration. "i found him," he said, "in a miserable set of chambers in the temple. i told him my authority; i told him that i was empowered to pay most liberally for his exertions; and--would you believe it!--he was so absurd as to say, 'i can earn as much as will supply my wants without writing for any party; the assistance you offer is therefore unnecessary to me.' and so i left him," added the rev. dr. scott, indignantly, "in his garret." on the partial success of _the good-natured man_ (january, ), goldsmith, having cleared £ , broke out like a successful gambler. he purchased a set of chambers (no. , up two pairs of stairs, in brick court) for £ , squandered the remaining £ , ran in debt to his tailor, and borrowed of mr. bolt, a man on the same floor. he purchased wilton carpets, blue merino curtains, chimney-glasses, book-cases, and card-tables, and, by the aid of filby, enrobed him in a suit of tyrian bloom, satin grain, with darker blue silk breeches, price £ s. d., and he even ventured at a more costly suit, lined with silk and ornamented with gilt buttons. below him lived that learned lawyer, mr. blackstone, then poring over the fourth volume of his precious "commentaries," and the noise and dancing overhead nearly drove him mad, as it also did a mr. children, who succeeded him. what these noises arose from, mr. forster relates in his delightful biography of the poet. an irish merchant named seguin "remembered dinners at which johnson, percy, bickerstaff, kelly, 'and a variety of authors of minor note,' were guests. they talked of supper-parties with younger people, as well in the london chambers as in suburban lodgings; preceded by blind-man's buff, forfeits, or games of cards; and where goldsmith, festively entertaining them all, would make frugal supper for himself off boiled milk. they related how he would sing all kinds of irish songs; with what special enjoyment he gave the scotch ballad of 'johnny armstrong' (his old nurse's favourite); how cheerfully he would put the front of his wig behind, or contribute in any other way to the general amusement; and to what accompaniment of uncontrolled laughter he once 'danced a minuet with mrs. seguin.'" in appeared "the deserted village." it was about this time that one of goldy's grub street acquaintances called upon him, whilst he was conversing with topham beauclerk, and general oglethorpe, and the fellow, telling goldsmith that he was sorry he could not pay the two guineas he owed him, offered him a quarter of a pound of tea and half a pound of sugar as an acknowledgment. " . goldsmith fell in love with mary horneck known as the 'jessamy bride.' unfortunately he obtained an advance of £ for his 'natural history,' and wholly expended it when only six chapters were written." in he published his "history of england." it was in this year that reynolds, coming one day to brick court, perhaps about the portrait of goldsmith he had painted the year before, found the mercurial poet kicking a bundle, which contained a masquerade dress, about the room, in disgust at his folly in wasting money in so foolish a way. in , mr. forster mentions a very characteristic story of goldsmith's warmth of heart. he one day found a poor irish student (afterwards dr. m'veagh m'donnell, a well-known physician) sitting and moping in despair on a bench in the temple gardens. goldsmith soon talked and laughed him into hope and spirits, then taking him off to his chambers, employed him to translate some chapters of buffon. in _she stoops to conquer_ made a great hit; but noll was still writing at hack-work, and was deeper in debt than ever. in , when goldsmith was still grinding on at his hopeless drudge-work, as far from the goal of fortune as ever, and even resolving to abandon london life, with all its temptations, mr. forster relates that johnson, dining with the poet, reynolds, and some one else, silently reproved the extravagance of so expensive a dinner by sending away the whole second course untouched. in march, , goldsmith returned from edgware to the temple chambers, which he was trying to sell, suffering from a low nervous fever, partly the result of vexation at his pecuniary embarrassments. mr. hawes, an apothecary in the strand (and one of the first founders of the humane society), was called in; but goldsmith insisted on taking james's fever-powders, a valuable medicine, but dangerous under the circumstances. this was friday, the th. he told the doctor then his mind was not at ease, and he died on monday, april th, in his forty-fifth year. his debts amounted to over £ , . "was ever poet so trusted before?" writes johnson to boswell. the staircase of brick court was filled with poor outcasts, to whom goldsmith had been kind and charitable. his coffin was opened by miss horneck, that a lock might be cut from his hair. burke and reynolds superintended the funeral, reynolds' nephew (palmer, afterwards dean of cashel) being chief mourner. hugh kelly, who had so often lampooned the poet, was present. at five o'clock on saturday, the th of april, goldsmith was buried in the temple churchyard. in , a slab of white marble, to the kindly poet's memory, was placed in the temple church, and afterwards transferred to a recess of the vestry chamber. of the poet, mr. forster says, "no memorial indicates the grave to the pilgrim or the stranger, nor is it possible any longer to identify the spot which received all that was mortal of the delightful writer." the present site is entirely conjectural; but it appears from the following note, communicated to us by t.c. noble, the well-known city antiquary, that the real site was remembered as late as . mr. noble says:-- "in , after some consideration, the benchers of the temple deciding that no more burials should take place in the churchyard, resolved to pave it over. for about fifteen years the burial-place of dr. goldsmith continued in obscurity; for while some would have it that the interment took place to the east of the choir, others clung to an opinion, handed down by mr. broome, the gardener, who stated that when he commenced his duties, about , a mr. collett, sexton, a very old man, and a penurious one, too, employed him to prune an elder-tree which, he stated, he venerated, because it marked the site of goldsmith's grave. the stone which has been placed in the yard, 'to mark the spot' where the poet was buried, is not the site of this tree. the tomb was erected in , but the exact position of the grave has never been discovered." the engraving on page shows the spot as it appeared in the autumn of that year. the old houses at the back were pulled down soon after. mr. forster, alluding to goldsmith's love for the rooks, the former denizens of the temple gardens, says: "he saw the rookery (in the winter deserted, or guarded only by some five or six, 'like old soldiers in a garrison') resume its activity and bustle in the spring; and he moralised, like a great reformer, on the legal constitution established, the social laws enforced, and the particular castigations endured for the good of the community, by those black-dressed and black-eyed chatterers. 'i have often amused myself,' goldsmith remarks, 'with observing their plans of policy from my window in the temple, that looks upon a grove where they have made a colony, in the midst of the city.'" chapter xvi. the temple (_continued_). fountain court and the temple fountain--ruth pinch--l.e.l.'s poem--fig-tree court--the inner temple library--paper buildings--the temple gate--guildford north and jeffreys--cowper, the poet: his melancholy and attempted suicide--a tragedy in tanfield court--lord mansfield--"mr. murray" and his client--lamb's pictures of the temple--the sun-dials--porson and his eccentricities--rules of the temple--coke and his labours--temple riots--scuffles with the alsatians--temple dinners--"calling" to the bar--the temple gardens--the chrysanthemums--sir matthew hale's tree--revenues of the temple--temple celebrities. lives there a man with soul so dead as to write about the temple without mentioning the little fountain in fountain court?--that pet and plaything of the temple, that, like a little fairy, sings to beguile the cares of men oppressed with legal duties. it used to look like a wagoner's silver whip--now a modern writer cruelly calls it "a pert squirt." in queen anne's time hatton describes it as forcing its stream "to a vast and almost incredible altitude"--it is now only ten feet high, no higher than a giant lord chancellor. then it was fenced with palisades--now it is caged in iron; then it stood in a square--now it is in a round. but it still sparkles and glitters, and sprinkles and playfully splashes the jaunty sparrows that come to wash off the london dust in its variegated spray. it is quite careless now, however, of notice, for has it not been immortalised by the pen of dickens, who has made it the centre of one of his most charming love scenes? it was in fountain court, our readers will like to remember, that ruth pinch--gentle, loving ruth--met her lover, by the merest accident of course. "there was," says mr. dickens, "a little plot between them that tom should always come out of the temple by one way, and that was past the fountain. coming through fountain court, he was just to glance down the steps leading into garden court, and to look once all round him; and if ruth had come to meet him, there he would see her--not sauntering, you understand (on account of the clerks), but coming briskly up, with the best little laugh upon her face that ever played in opposition to the fountain and beat it all to nothing. for, fifty to one, tom had been looking for her in the wrong direction, and had quite given her up, while she had been tripping towards him from the first, jingling that little reticule of hers (with all the keys in it) to attract his wondering observation. "whether there was life enough left in the slow vegetation of fountain court for the smoky shrubs to have any consciousness of the brightest and purest-hearted little woman in the world, is a question for gardeners and those who are learned in the loves of plants. but that it was a good thing for that same paved yard to have such a delicate little figure flitting through it, that it passed like a smile from the grimy old houses and the worn flagstones, and left them duller, darker, sterner than before, there is no sort of doubt. the temple fountain might have leaped up twenty feet to greet the spring of hopeful maidenhood that in her person stole on, sparkling, through the dry and dusty channels of the law; the chirping sparrows, bred in temple chinks and crannies, might have held their peace to listen to imaginary skylarks as so fresh a little creature passed; the dingy boughs, unused to droop, otherwise than in their puny growth, might have bent down in a kindred gracefulness to shed their benedictions on her graceful head; old love-letters, shut up in iron boxes in the neighbouring offices, and made of no account among the heaps of family papers into which they had strayed, and of which in their degeneracy they formed a part, might have stirred and fluttered with a moment's recollection of their ancient tenderness, as she went lightly by. anything might have happened that did not happen, and never will, for the love of ruth.... "merrily the tiny fountain played, and merrily the dimples sparkled on its sunny face. john westlock hurried after her. softly the whispering water broke and fell, and roguishly the dimples twinkled as he stole upon her footsteps. "oh, foolish, panting, timid little heart! why did she feign to be unconscious of his coming?... "merrily the fountain leaped and danced, and merrily the smiling dimples twinkled and expanded more and more, until they broke into a laugh against the basin's rim and vanished." "l.e.l." (miss landon) has left a graceful poem on this much-petted fountain, which begins,-- "the fountain's low singing is heard on the wind, like a melody, bringing sweet fancies to mind-- some to grieve, some to gladden; around them they cast the hopes of the morrow, the dreams of the past. away in the distance is heard the vast sound from the streets of the city that compass it round, like the echo of fountains or ocean's deep call; yet that fountain's low singing is heard over all." fig-tree court derived its name from obvious sources. next to the plane, that has the strange power of sloughing off its sooty bark, the fig seems the tree that best endures london's corrupted atmosphere. thomas fairchild, a hoxton gardener, who wrote in (quoted by mr. peter cunningham), alludes to figs ripening well in the rolls gardens, chancery lane, and to the tree thriving in close places about bridewell. who can say that some templar pilgrim did not bring from the banks of "abana or pharpar, rivers of damascus," the first leafy inhabitant of inky and dusty fig-tree court? lord thurlow was living here in , the year he was called to the bar, and when, it was said, he had not money enough even to hire a horse to attend the circuit. the inner temple library stands on the terrace facing the river. the parliament chambers and hall, in the tudor style, were the work of sidney smirke, r.a., in . the library, designed by mr. abrahams, is feet long, feet wide, and feet high; it has a hammer-beam roof. one of the stained glass windows is blazoned with the arms of the templars. below the library are chambers. the cost of the whole was about £ , . the north window is thought to too much resemble the great window at westminster. paper buildings, a name more suitable for the offices of some city companies, were first built in the reign of james i., by a mr. edward hayward and others; and the learned dugdale describes them as eighty-eight feet long, twenty feet broad, and four storeys high. this hayward was selden's chamber-fellow, and to him selden dedicated his "titles of honour." selden, according to aubrey, had chambers in these pleasant river-side buildings, looking towards the gardens, and in the uppermost storey he had a little gallery, to pace in and meditate. the great fire swept away selden's chambers, and their successors were destroyed by the fire which broke out in mr. maule's chambers. coming home at night from a dinner-party, that gentleman, it is said, put the lighted candle under his bed by mistake. the stately new buildings were designed by mr. sidney smirke, a.r.a., in . the red brick and stone harmonise pleasantly, and the overhanging oriels and angle turrets (continental tudor) are by no means ineffective. the entrance to the middle temple from fleet street is a gatehouse of red brick pointed with stone, and is the work of wren. it was erected in , after the great fire, and is in the style of inigo jones--"not inelegant," says ralph. it probably occupies the site of the gatehouse erected by order of wolsey, at the expense of his prisoner, sir amyas paulet. the frightened man covered the front with the cardinal's hat and arms, hoping to appease wolsey's anger by gratifying his pride. the inner temple gateway was built in the fifth year of james i. elm court was built in the sixth year of charles i. up one pair of stairs that successful courtier, guildford north, whom jeffreys so tormented by the rumour that he had been seen riding on a rhinoceros, then exhibiting in london, commenced the practice that soon won him such high honours. in the poet cowper, on leaving a solicitor's office, had chambers in the middle temple, and in that solitude the horror of his future malady began to darken over him. he gave up the classics, which had been his previous delight, and read george herbert's poems all day long. in , after his father's death, he purchased another set of rooms for £ , in an airy situation in the inner temple. he belonged, at this time, to the "nonsense club," of which bonnell thornton, colman junior, and lloyd were members. thurlow also was his friend. in his despondency deepened into insanity. an approaching appointment to the clerkship of the journals of the house of lords overwhelmed him with nervous fears. dreading to appear in public, he resolved to destroy himself. he purchased laudanum, then threw it away. he packed up his portmanteau to go to france and enter a monastery. he went down to the custom house quay, to throw himself into the river. he tried to stab himself. at last the poor fellow actually hung himself, and was only saved by an accident. the following is his own relation:-- "not one hesitating thought now remained, but i fell greedily to the execution of my purpose. my garter was made of a broad piece of scarlet binding, with a sliding buckle, being sewn together at the ends. by the help of the buckle i formed a noose, and fixed it about my neck, straining it so tight that i hardly left a passage for my breath, or for the blood to circulate. the tongue of the buckle held it fast. at each corner of the bed was placed a wreath of carved work fastened by an iron pin, which passed up through the midst of it; the other part of the garter, which made a loop, i slipped over one of them, and hung by it some seconds, drawing up my feet under me, that they might not touch the floor; but the iron bent, and the carved work slipped off, and the garter with it. i then fastened it to the frame of the tester, winding it round and tying it in a strong knot. the frame broke short, and let me down again. "the third effort was more likely to succeed. i set the door open, which reached to within a foot of the ceiling. by the help of a chair i could command the top of it, and the loop being large enough to admit a large angle of the door, was easily fixed, so as not to slip off again. i pushed away the chair with my feet; and hung at my whole length. while i hung there i distinctly heard a voice say three times, 'tis over!' though i am sure of the fact, and was so at the time, yet it did not at all alarm me or affect my resolution. i hung so long that i lost all sense, all consciousness of existence. "when i came to myself again i thought i was in hell; the sound of my own dreadful groans was all that i heard, and a feeling like that produced by a flash of lightning just beginning to seize upon me, passed over my whole body. in a few seconds i found myself fallen on my face to the floor. in about half a minute i recovered my feet, and reeling and struggling, stumbled into bed again. "by the blessed providence of god, the garter which had held me till the bitterness of temporal death was past broke just before eternal death had taken place upon me. the stagnation of the blood under one eye in a broad crimson spot, and a red circle round my neck, showed plainly that i had been on the brink of eternity. the latter, indeed, might have been occasioned by the pressure of the garter, but the former was certainly the effect of strangulation, for it was not attended with the sensation of a bruise, as it must have been had i in my fall received one in so tender a part; and i rather think the circle round my neck was owing to the same cause, for the part was not excoriated, nor at all in pain. "soon after i got into bed i was surprised to hear a voice in the dining-room, where the laundress was lighting a fire. she had found the door unbolted, notwithstanding my design to fasten it, and must have passed the bed-chamber door while i was hanging on it, and yet never perceived me. she heard me fall, and presently came to ask me if i was well, adding, she feared i had been in a fit. "i sent her to a friend, to whom i related the whole affair, and dispatched him to my kinsman at the coffee-house. as soon as the latter arrived i pointed to the broken garter which lay in the middle of the room, and apprised him also of the attempt i had been making. his words were, 'my dear mr. cowper, you terrify me! to be sure you cannot hold the office at this rate. where is the deputation?' i gave him the key of the drawer where it was deposited, and his business requiring his immediate attendance, he took it away with him; and thus ended all my connection with the parliament office." [illustration: the temple fountain, from an old print (_see page _).] in february, , tanfield court, a quiet, dull nook on the east side of the temple, to the south of that sombre grecian temple where the master resides, was the scene of a very horrible crime. sarah malcolm, a laundress, aged twenty-two, employed by a young barrister named kerrol in the same court, gaining access to the rooms of an old lady named duncomb, whom she knew to have money, strangled her and an old servant, and cut the throat of a young girl, whose bed she had probably shared. some of her blood-stained linen, and a silver tankard of mrs. duncomb's, stained with blood, were found by mr. kerrol concealed in his chambers. fifty-three pounds of the money were discovered at newgate hidden in the prisoner's hair. she confessed to a share in the robbery, but laid the murder to two lads with whom she was acquainted. she was, however, found guilty, and hung opposite mitre court, fleet street. the crowd was so great that one woman crossed from near serjeants' inn to the other side of the way on the shoulders of the mob. sarah malcolm went to execution neatly dressed in a crape gown, held up her head in the cart with an air, and seemed to be painted. a copy of her confession was sold for twenty guineas. two days before her execution she dressed in scarlet, and sat to hogarth for a sketch, which horace walpole bought for £ . the portrait represents a cruel, thin-lipped woman, not uncomely, sitting at a table. the duke of roxburghe purchased a perfect impression of this print, mr. timbs says, for £ s. its original price was sixpence. after her execution the corpse was taken to an undertaker's on snow hill, and there exhibited for money. among the rest, a gentleman in deep mourning--perhaps her late master, mr. kerrol--stooped and kissed it, and gave the attendant half-a-crown. she was, by special favour (for superiority even in wickedness has its admirers), buried in st. sepulchre's churchyard, from which criminals had been excluded for a century and a half. the corpse of the murderess was disinterred, and her skeleton, in a glass case, is still to be seen at the botanic garden, cambridge. [illustration: a scuffle between templars and alsatians (_see page _).] not many recorded crimes have taken place in the temple, for youth, however poor, is hopeful. it takes time to make a man despair, and when he despairs, the devil is soon at his elbow. nevertheless, greed and madness have upset some templars' brains. in october, , a crazed, fanatical man of the middle temple, named peter burchet, mistaking john hawkins (afterwards the naval hero) for sir christopher hatton, flew at him in the strand, and dangerously wounded him with a dagger. the queen was so furious that at first she wanted burchet tried by camp law; but, being found to hold heretical opinions, he was committed to the lollards' tower (south front of st. paul's), and afterwards sent to the tower. growing still madder there, burchet slew one of his keepers with a billet from his fire, and was then condemned to death and hung in the strand, close by where he had stabbed hawkins, his right hand being first stricken off and nailed to the gibbet. in john ayloff, a barrister of the inner temple, was hung for high treason opposite the temple gate. in thomas carr, an attorney, of elm court, and elizabeth adams, his accomplice, were executed for robbing a mr. quarrington in shire lane (see page ); and in henry justice, of the middle temple, in spite of his well-omened name, was cruelly sentenced to death for stealing books from the library of trinity college, cambridge, but eventually he was only transported for life. the celebrated earl of mansfield, when mr. murray, had chambers at no. , king's bench walk, _apropos_ of which pope wrote-- "to number five direct your doves, there spread round murray all your blooming loves." (pope "to venus," from "horace.") a second compliment by pope to this great man occasioned a famous parody:-- "graced as thou art by all the power of words, so known, so honoured at the house of lords" (pope, of lord mansfield); which was thus cleverly parodied by colley cibber: "persuasion tips his tongue whene'er he talks, and he has chambers in the king's bench walks." one of mansfield's biographers tells us that "once he was surprised by a gentleman of lincoln's inn (who took the liberty of entering his room in the temple without the ceremonious introduction of a servant), in the act of practising the graces of a speaker at a glass, while pope sat by in the character of a friendly preceptor." of the friendship of pope and murray, warburton has said: "mr. pope had all the warmth of affection for this great lawyer; and, indeed, no man ever more deserved to have a poet for his friend, in the obtaining of which, as neither vanity, party, nor fear had a share, so he supported his title to it by all the offices of a generous and true friendship." "a good story," says mr. jeaffreson, "is told of certain visits paid to william murray's chambers at no. , king's bench walk, temple, in the year . born in , murray was still a young man when, in , he made his brilliant speech on behalf of colonel sloper, against whom colley cibber's rascally son had brought an action for immorality with his wife, the lovely actress, who on the stage was the rival of mrs. clive, and in private life was remarkable for immorality and fascinating manners. amongst the many clients who were drawn to murray by that speech, sarah, duchess of marlborough, was neither the least powerful nor the least distinguished. her grace began by sending the rising advocate a general retainer, with a fee of a thousand guineas, of which sum he accepted only the two-hundredth part, explaining to the astonished duchess that 'the professional fee, with a general retainer, could not be less nor more than five guineas.' if murray had accepted the whole sum he would not have been overpaid for his trouble, for her grace persecuted him with calls at most unseasonable hours. on one occasion, returning to his chambers after 'drinking champagne with the wits,' he found the duchess's carriage and attendants on king's bench walk. a numerous crowd of footmen and link-bearers surrounded the coach, and when the barrister entered his chambers he encountered the mistress of that army of lackeys. 'young man,' exclaimed the grand lady, eyeing the future lord mansfield with a look of displeasure, 'if you mean to rise in the world, you must not sup out.' on a subsequent night sarah of marlborough called without appointment at the chambers, and waited till past midnight in the hope that she would see the lawyer ere she went to bed. but murray, being at an unusually late supper-party, did not return till her grace had departed in an overpowering rage. 'i could not make out, sir, who she was,' said murray's clerk, describing her grace's appearance and manner, 'for she would not tell me her name; _but she swore so dreadfully that i am sure she must be a lady of quality_.'" charles lamb, who was born in crown office row, in his exquisite way has sketched the benchers of the temple whom he had seen pacing the terrace in his youth. jekyll, with the roguish eye, and thomas coventry, of the elephantine step, the scarecrow of inferiors, the browbeater of equals, who made a solitude of children wherever he came, who took snuff by palmfuls, diving for it under the mighty flap of his old-fashioned red waistcoat. in the gentle samuel salt we discover a portrait of the employer of lamb's father. salt was a shy indolent, absent man, who never dressed for a dinner party but he forgot his sword. the day of miss blandy's execution he went to dine with a relative of the murderess, first carefully schooled by his clerk to avoid the disagreeable subject. however, during the pause for dinner, salt went to the window, looked out, pulled down his ruffles, and observed, "it's a gloomy day; miss blandy must be hanged by this time, i suppose." salt never laughed. he was a well-known toast with the ladies, having a fine figure and person. coventry, on the other hand, was a man worth four or five hundred thousand, and lived in a gloomy house, like a strong box, opposite the pump in serjeants' inn, fleet street. fond of money as he was, he gave away £ , at once to a charity for the blind, and kept a hospitable house. salt was indolent and careless of money, and but for lovel, his clerk, would have been universally robbed. this lovel was a clever little fellow, with a face like garrick, who could mould heads in clay, turn cribbage-boards, take a hand at a quadrille or bowls, and brew punch with any man of his degree in europe. with coventry and salt, peter pierson often perambulated the terrace, with hands folded behind him. contemporary with these was daines barrington, a burly, square man. lamb also mentions burton, "a jolly negation," who drew up the bills of fare for the parliament chamber, where the benchers dined; thin, fragile wharry, who used to spitefully pinch his cat's ears when anything offended him; and jackson, the musician, to whom the cook once applied for instructions how to write down "edge-bone of beef" in a bill of commons. then there was blustering mingay, who had a grappling-hook in substitute for a hand he had lost, which lamb, when a child, used to take for an emblem of power; and baron mascres, who retained the costume of the reign of george ii. in his "essays," lamb says:--"i was born and passed the first seven years of my life in the temple. its church, its halls, its gardens, its fountain, its river i had almost said--for in those young years what was the king of rivers to me but a stream that watered our pleasant places?--these are of my oldest recollections. i repeat, to this day, no verses to myself more frequently or with kindlier emotion than those of spenser where he speaks of this spot. indeed, it is the most elegant spot in the metropolis. what a transition for a countryman visiting london for the first time--the passing from the crowded strand or fleet street, by unexpected avenues, into its magnificent, ample squares, its classic green recesses! what a cheerful, liberal look hath that portion of it which, from three sides, overlooks the greater garden, that goodly pile 'of buildings strong, albeit of paper hight,' confronting with massy contrast, the lighter, older, more fantastically shrouded one named of harcourt, with the cheerful crown office row (place of my kindly engendure), right opposite the stately stream, which washes the garden foot with her yet scarcely trade--polluted waters, and seems but just weaned from twickenham naïades! a man would give something to have been born in such places. what a collegiate aspect has that fine elizabethan hall, where the fountain plays, which i have made to rise and fall, how many times! to the astonishment of the young urchins, my contemporaries, who, not being able to guess at its recondite machinery, were almost tempted to hail the wondrous work as magic...." "so may the winged horse, your ancient badge and cognisance, still flourish! so may future hookers and seldens illustrate your church and chambers! so may the sparrows, in default of more melodious quiristers, imprisoned hop about your walks! so may the fresh-coloured and cleanly nursery-maid, who by leave airs her playful charge in your stately gardens, drop her prettiest blushing curtsey as ye pass, reductive of juvenescent emotion! so may the younkers of this generation eye you, pacing your stately terrace, with the same superstitious veneration with which the child elia gazed on the old worthies that solemnised the parade before ye!" charles lamb, in his "essay" on the old benchers, speaks of many changes he had witnessed in the temple--_i.e._, the gothicising the entrance to the inner temple hall and the library front, to assimilate them to the hall, which they did not resemble; to the removal of the winged horse over the temple hall, and the frescoes of the virtues which once italianised it. he praises, too, the antique air of the "now almost effaced sun-dials," with their moral inscriptions, seeming almost coeval with the time which they measured, and taking their revelations immediately from heaven, holding correspondence with the fountain of light. of these dials there still remain--one in temple lane, with the motto, "pereunt et imputantur;" one in essex court, "vestigia nulla retrorsum;" and one in brick court on which goldsmith must often have gazed--the motto, "time and tide tarry for no man." in pump court and garden court are two dials without mottoes; and in each temple garden is a pillar dial--"the natural garden god of christian gardens." on an old brick house at the east end of inner temple terrace, removed in , was a dial with the odd inscription, "begone about your business," words with which an old bencher is said to have once dismissed a troublesome lad who had come from the dial-maker's for a motto, and who mistook his meaning. the one we have engraved at page is in pump court. the date and the initials are renewed every time it is fresh painted. there are many old temple anecdotes relating to that learned disciple of bacchus, porson. many a time (says mr. timbs), at early morn, did porson stagger from his old haunt, the "cider cellars" in maiden lane, where he scarcely ever failed to pass some hours, after spending the evening elsewhere. it is related of him, upon better authority than most of the stories told to his discredit, that one night, or rather morning, gurney (the baron), who had chambers in essex court under porson's, was awakened by a tremendous thump in the chamber above. porson had just come home dead drunk, and had fallen on the floor. having extinguished the candle in the fall, he presently staggered downstairs to re-light it, and gurney heard him dodging and poking with the candle at the staircase lamp for about five minutes, and all the time very lustily cursing the nature of things. we read also of porson's shutting himself up in these chambers for three or four days together, admitting no visitor. one morning his friend rogers went to call, having ascertained from the barber's hard by that porson was at home, but had not been seen by any one for two days. rogers proceeded to his chambers, and knocked at the door more than once; he would not open it, and rogers came downstairs, but as he was crossing the court porson opened the window and stopped him. he was then busy about the grenville "homer," for which he collated the harleian ms. of the "odyssey," and received for his labour but £ and a large-paper copy. his chambers must have presented a strange scene, for he used books most cruelly, whether they were his own or belonged to others. he said that he possessed more _bad_ copies of _good_ books than any private gentleman in england. rogers, when a templar, occasionally had some visitors who absorbed more of his time than was always agreeable; an instance of which he thus relates: "when i lived in the temple, mackintosh and richard sharp used to come to my chambers and stay there for hours, talking metaphysics. one day they were so intent on their 'first cause,' 'spirit,' and 'matter,' that they were unconscious of my having left them, paid a visit, and returned. i was a little angry at this; and to show my indifference about them, i sat down and wrote letters, without taking any notice of them. i never met a man with a fuller mind than mackintosh--such readiness on all subjects, such a talker." before any person can be admitted a member of the temple, he must furnish a statement in writing, describing his age, residence, and condition in life, and adding a certificate of his respectability and fitness, signed by himself and a bencher of the society, or two barristers. the _middle_ temple requires the signatures of two barristers of that inn and of a bencher, but in each of the three other inns the signatures of barristers of any of the four inns will suffice. no person is admitted without the approbation of a bencher, or of the benchers in council assembled. the _middle temple_ includes the universities of durham and london. at the _inner temple_ the candidate for admission who has taken the degree of b.a., or passed an examination at the universities of oxford, cambridge, or london, is required to pass an examination by a barrister, appointed by the bench for that purpose, in the greek and latin languages, and history or literature in general. no person in priest's or deacon's orders can be called to the bar. in the _inner temple_, an attorney must have ceased to be on the rolls, and an articled clerk to be in articles for _three years_, before he can be called to the bar. legal students worked hard in the old times; coke's career is an example. in he rose every morning at five o'clock, lighting his own fire; and then read bracton, littleton, and the ponderous folio abridgments of the law till the court met, at eight o'clock. he then took boat for westminster, and heard cases argued till twelve o'clock, when the pleas ceased for dinner. after a meal in the inner temple hall, he attended "readings" or lectures in the afternoon, and then resumed his private studies till supper-time at five. next came the moots, after which he slammed his chamber-door, and set to work with his commonplace book to index all the law he had amassed during the day. at nine, the steady student went to bed, securing three good hours of sleep before midnight. it is said coke never saw a play or read a play in his life--and that was shakespeare's time! in the reign of james i. the temple was often called "my lord coke's shop." he had become a great lawyer then, and lived to become lord chief justice. pity 'tis that we have to remember that he reviled essex and insulted raleigh. king james once said of coke in misfortune that he was like a cat, he always fell on his feet. history does not record many riots in the temple, full of wild life as that quiet precinct has been. in different reigns, however, two outbreaks occurred. in both cases the templars, though rather hot and prompt, seem to have been right. at the dinner of john prideaux, reader of the inner temple, in , the students took offence at sir john lyon, the lord mayor, coming in state, with his sword up, and the sword was dragged down as he passed through the cloisters. the same sort of affray took place again in , when lord mayor peake came to sir christopher goodfellow's feast, and the lord mayor had to be hidden in a bencher's chambers till, as pepys relates, the fiery young sparks were decoyed away to dinner. the case was tried before charles ii., and heneage finch pleaded for the temple, claiming immemorial exemption from city jurisdiction. the case was never decided. from that day to this (says mr. noble) a settlement appears never to have been made; hence it is that the temples claim to be "extra parochial," closing nightly all their gates as the clock strikes ten, and keeping extra watch and ward when the parochial authorities "beat the bounds" upon ascension day. many struggles have taken place to make the property rateable, and even of late the question has once more arisen; and it is hardly to be wondered at, for it would be a nice bit of business to assess the templars upon the £ , which they have returned as the annual rental of their estates. a third riot was with those ceaseless enemies of the templars, the alsatians, or lawless inhabitants of disreputable whitefriars. in july, , weary of their riotous and thievish neighbours, the benchers of the inner temple bricked up the gate (still existing in king's bench walk) leading into the high street of whitefriars; but the alsatians, swarming out, pulled down as fast as the bricklayers built up. the templars hurried together, swords flew out, the alsatians plied pokers and shovels, and many heads were broken. ultimately, two men were killed, several wounded, and many hurried off to prison. eventually, the ringleader of the alsatians, captain francis white--a "copper captain," no doubt--was convicted of murder, in april, . this riot eventually did good, for it led to the abolition of london sanctuaries, those dens of bullies, low gamblers, thieves, and courtesans. as the middle temple has grown gradually poorer and more neglected, many curious customs of the old banquets have died out. the loving cup, once fragrant with sweetened sack, is now used to hold the almost superfluous toothpicks. oysters are no longer brought in, in term, every friday before dinner; nor when one bencher dines does he, on leaving the hall, invite the senior bar man to come and take wine with him in the parliament chamber (the accommodation-room of oxford colleges). yet the rich and epicurean inner temple still cherishes many worthy customs, affects _recherché_ french dishes, and is curious in _entremets_; while the middle temple growls over its geological salad, that some hungry wit has compared to "eating a gravel walk, and meeting an occasional weed." a writer in _blackwood_, quoting the old proverb, "the inner temple for the rich, the middle for the poor," says few great men have come from the middle temple. how can acumen be derived from the scrag-end of a neck of mutton, or inspiration from griskins? at a late dinner, says mr. timbs ( ), there were present only three benchers, seven barristers, and six students. an inner temple banquet is a very grand thing. at five, or half-past five, the barristers and students in their gowns follow the benchers in procession to the dais; the steward strikes the table solemnly a mystic three times, grace is said by the treasurer, or senior bencher present, and the men of law fall to. in former times it was the custom to blow a horn in every court to announce the meal, but how long this ancient templar practice has been discontinued we do not know. the benchers observe somewhat more style at their table than the other members do at theirs. the general repast is a tureen of soup, a joint of meat, a tart, and cheese, to each mess, consisting of four persons, and each mess is allowed a bottle of port wine. dinner is served daily to the members of the inn during term time; the masters of the bench dining on the state, or dais, and the barristers and students at long tables extending down the hall. on grand days the judges are present, who dine in succession with each of the four inns of court. to the parliament chamber, adjoining the hall, the benchers repair after dinner. the loving cups used on certain grand occasions are huge silver goblets, which are passed down the table, filled with a delicious composition, immemorially termed "sack," consisting of sweetened and exquisitely-flavoured white wine. the butler attends the progress of the cup, to replenish it; and each student is by rule restricted to a _sip_; yet it is recorded that once, though the number present fell short of seventy, thirty-six quarts of the liquid were sipped away. at the inner temple, on may th, a gold cup of sack is handed to each member, who drinks to the happy restoration of charles ii. [illustration: sun-dial in the temple (_see page _).] the writer in _blackwood_ before referred to alludes to the strict silence enjoined at the inner temple dinners, the only intercourse between the several members of the mess being the usual social scowl vouchsafed by your true-born englishman to persons who have not the honour of his acquaintance. you may, indeed, on an emergency, ask your neighbour for the salt; but then it is also perfectly understood that he is not obliged to notice your request. the old term of "calling to the bar" seems to have originated in the custom of summoning students, that had attained a certain standing, to the bar that separated the benchers' dais from the hall, to take part in certain probationary mootings or discussions on points of law. the mere student sat farthest from the bar. when these mootings were discontinued deponent sayeth not. in coke's time ( ), that great lawyer, after supper at five o'clock, used to join the moots, when questions of law were proposed and discussed, when fine on the garden terrace, in rainy weather in the temple cloisters. the dinner alone now remains; dining is now the only legal study of temple students. in the _middle temple_ a three years' standing and twelve commons kept suffices to entitle a gentleman to be called to the bar, provided he is above twenty-three years of age. no person can be called to the bar at any of the inns of court before he is twenty-one years of age; and a standing of five years is understood to be required of every member before being called. the members of the several universities, &c., may, however, be called after three years' standing. [illustration: the temple stairs.] the inner temple garden (three acres in extent) has probably been a garden from the time the white-mantled templars first came from holborn and settled by the river-side. this little paradise of nurserymaids and london children is entered from the terrace by an iron gate (date, ); and the winged horse that surmounts the portal has looked down on many a distinguished visitor. in the centre of the grass is such a sun-dial as charles lamb loved, with the date, . a little to the east of this stands an old sycamore, which, fifteen years since, was railed in as the august mummy of that umbrageous tree under whose shade, as tradition says, johnson and goldsmith used to sit and converse. according to an engraving of there were formerly three trees; so that shakespeare himself may have sat under them and meditated on the wars of the roses. the print shows a brick terrace faced with stone, with a flight of steps at the north. the old river wall of stood fifty or sixty yards farther north than the present; and when paper buildings were erected, part of this wall was dug up. the view given on this page, and taken from an old view in the temple, shows a portion of the old wall, with the doorway opening upon the temple stairs. the temple garden, half a century since, was famous for its white and red roses (the old provence, cabbage, and the maiden's blush--timbs); and the lime-trees were delightful in the time of bloom. there were only two steamboats on the river then; but the steamers and factory smoke soon spoiled everything but the hardy chrysanthemums. however, since the smoke consuming act has been enforced, the roses, stocks, and hawthorns have again taken heart, and blossom with grateful luxuriance. in mr. broome, the zealous gardener of the inner temple, exhibited at the central horticultural society twenty-four trusses of roses grown under his care. in the flower-beds next the main walk he managed to secure four successive crops of flowers--the pompones were especially gaudy and beautiful; but his chief triumph were the chrysanthemums of the northern border. the trees, however, seem delicate, and suffering from the cold winds, dwindle as they approach the river. the planes, limes, and wych elms stand best. the temple rooks--the wise birds goldsmith delighted to watch--were originally brought by sir william northcote from woodcote green, epsom, but they left in disgust, many years since. mr. timbs says that families enjoy these gardens throughout the year, and about , of the outer world, chiefly children, who are always in search of the lost eden, come hers annually. the flowers and trees are rarely injured, thanks to the much-abused london public. in the secluded middle temple garden is an old catalpa tree, supposed to have been planted by that grave and just judge, sir matthew hale. on the lawn is a large table sun-dial, elaborately gilt and embellished. from the library oriel the thames and its bridges, somerset house and the houses of parliament, form a grand _coup d'oeil_. the revenue of the middle temple alone is said to be £ , a year. with the savings we are, of course, entirely ignorant. the students' dinners are half paid for by themselves, the library is kept up on very little fodder, and altogether the system of auditing the inns of court accounts is as incomprehensible as the sybilline oracles; but there can be no doubt it is all right, and very well managed. in the seventeenth century (says mr. noble) a benevolent member of the middle temple conveyed to the benchers in fee several houses in the city, out of the rents of which to pay a stated salary to each of two referees, who were to meet on two days weekly, in term, from two to five, in the hall or other convenient place, and without fee on either side, to settle as best they could all disputes submitted to them. from that time the referees have been appointed, but there is no record of a single case being tried by them. the two gentlemen, finding their office a sinecure, have devoted their salaries to making periodical additions to the library. may we be allowed to ask, was this benevolent object ever made known to the public generally? we cannot but think, if it had been, that the two respected arbitrators would not have had to complain of the office as a sinecure. he who can enumerate the wise and great men who have been educated in the temple can count off the stars on his finger and measure the sands of the sea-shore by teacupsful. to cull a few, we may mention that the inner temple boasts among its eminent members--audley, chancellor to henry viii.; nicholas hare, of hare court celebrity; the great lawyer, littleton ( ), and coke, his commentator; sir christopher hatton, the dancing chancellor; lord buckhurst; selden; judge jeffries; beaumont, the poet; william browne, the author of "britannia's pastorals" (so much praised by the lamb and hazlitt school); cowper, the poet; and sir william follett. from the middle temple have also sprung swarms of great lawyers. we may mention specially plowden, the jurist, sir walter raleigh, sir thomas overbury (who was poisoned in the tower), john ford (one of the latest of the great dramatists), sir edward bramston (chamber-fellow to mr. hyde, afterwards lord clarendon), bulstrode whitelocke (one of cromwell's ministers), lord-keeper guildford (charles ii.), lord chancellor somers, wycherley and congreve (the dramatists), shadwell and southern (comedy writers), sir william blackstone, edmund burke, sheridan, dunning (lord ashburton), lord chancellor eldon, lord stowell, as a few among a multitude. chapter xvii. whitefriars. the present whitefriars--the carmelite convent--dr. butts--the sanctuary--lord sanquhar murders the fencing-master--his trial--bacon and yelverton--his execution--sir walter scott's "fortunes of nigel"--shadwell's _squire of alsatia_--a riot in whitefriars--elizabethan edicts against two ruffians of alsatia--bridewell--a roman fortification--a saxon palace--wolsey's residence--queen catherine's trial--her behaviour in court--persecution of the first congregationalists--granaries and coal stores destroyed by the great fire--the flogging in bridewell--sermon on madame creswell--hogarth and the "harlot's progress"--pennant's account of bridewell--bridewell in --its latter days--pictures in the court room--bridewell dock--the gas works--theatres in whitefriars--pepys' visits to the theatre--dryden and the dorset gardens theatre--davenant--kynaston--dorset house--the poet-earl. so rich is london in legend and tradition, that even some of the spots that now appear the blankest, baldest, and most uninteresting, are really vaults of entombed anecdote and treasure-houses of old story. whitefriars--that dull, narrow, uninviting lane sloping from fleet street to the river, with gas works at its foot and mean shops on either side--was once the centre of a district full of noblemen's mansions; but time's harlequin wand by-and-by turned it into a debtors' sanctuary and thieves' paradise, and for half a century its bullies and swindlers waged a ceaseless war with their proud and rackety neighbours of the temple. the dingy lane, now only awakened by the quick wheel of the swift newspaper cart or the ponderous tires of the sullen coal-wagon, was in olden times for ever ringing with clash of swords, the cries of quarrelsome gamblers, and the drunken songs of noisy bobadils. in the reign of edward i., a certain sir robert gray, moved by qualms of conscience or honest impulse, founded on the bank of the thames, east of the well-guarded temple, a carmelite convent, with broad gardens, where the white friars might stroll, and with shady nooks where they might con their missals. bouverie street and ram alley were then part of their domain, and there they watched the river and prayed for their patrons' souls. in courtenay, earl of devon, rebuilt the whitefriars church, and in a bishop of hereford added a steeple. in time, greedy hands were laid roughly on cope and chalice, and henry viii., seizing on the friars' domains, gave his physician--that doctor butts mentioned by shakespeare--the chapter-house for a residence. edward vi.--who, with all his promise, was as ready for such pillage as his tyrannical father--pulled down the church, and built noblemen's houses in its stead. the refectory of the convent, being preserved, afterwards became the whitefriars theatre. the mischievous right of sanctuary was preserved to the district, and confirmed by james i., in whose reign the slum became jocosely known as alsatia--from alsace, that unhappy frontier then, and later, contended for by french and germans--just as chandos street and that shy neighbourhood at the north-west side of the strand used to be called the caribbee islands, from its countless straits and intricate thieves' passages. the outskirts of the carmelite monastery had no doubt become disreputable at an early time, for even in edward iii.'s reign the holy friars had complained of the gross temptations of lombard street (an alley near bouverie street). sirens and dulcineas of all descriptions were ever apt to gather round monasteries. whitefriars, however, even as late as cromwell's reign, preserved a certain respectability; for here, with his supposed wife, the dowager countess of kent, selden lived and studied. in the reign of james i. a strange murder was committed in whitefriars. the cause of the crime was highly singular. in young lord sanquhar, a scotch nobleman, who with others of his countrymen had followed his king to england, had an eye put out by a fencing-master of whitefriars. the young lord--a man of a very ancient, proud, and noble scotch family, as renowned for courage as for wit--had striven to put some affront on the fencing-master at lord norris's house, in oxfordshire, wishing to render him contemptible before his patrons and assistants--a common bravado of the rash tybalts and hot-headed mercutios of those fiery days of the duello, when even to crack a nut too loud was enough to make your tavern neighbour draw his sword. john turner, the master, jealous of his professional honour, challenged the tyro with dagger and rapier, and, determined to chastise his ungenerous assailant, parried all his most skilful passadoes and staccatoes, and in his turn pressed sanquhar with his foil so hotly and boldly that he unfortunately thrust out one of his eyes. the young baron, ashamed of his own rashness, and not convinced that turner's thrust was only a slip and an accident, bore with patience several days of extreme danger. as for turner, he displayed natural regret, and was exonerated by everybody. some time after, lord sanquhar being in the court of henry iv. of france, that chivalrous and gallant king, always courteous to strangers, seeing the patch of green taffeta, unfortunately, merely to make conversation, asked the young scotchman how he lost his eye. sanquhar, not willing to lose the credit of a wound, answered cannily, "it was done, your majesty, with a sword." the king replied, thoughtlessly, "doth the man live?" and no more was said. this remark, however, awoke the viper of revenge in the young man's soul. he brooded over those words, and never ceased to dwell on the hope of some requital on his old opponent. two years he remained in france, hoping that his wound might be cured, and at last, in despair of such a result, set sail for england, still brooding over revenge against the author of his cruel and, as it now appeared, irreparable misfortune. the king of denmark, james's toss-pot father-in-law, was on a visit here at the time, and the court was very gay. the first news that lord sanquhar heard was, that the accursed turner was down at greenwich palace, fencing there in public matches before the two kings. to these entertainments the young scotchman went, and there, from some corner of a gallery, the man with a patch over his eye no doubt scowled and bit his lip at the fencing-master, as he strutted beneath, proud of his skill and flushed with triumph. the moment the prizes were given, sanquhar hurried below, and sought turner up and down, through court and corridor, resolved to stab him on the spot, though even drawing a sword in the precincts of the palace was an offence punishable with the loss of a hand. turner, however, at that time escaped, for sanquhar never came across him in the throng, though he beat it as a dog beats a covert. the next day, therefore, still on his trail, lord sanquhar went after him to london, seeking for him up and down the strand, and in all the chief fleet street and cheapside taverns. the scot could not have come to a more dangerous place than london. some, with malicious pity, would tell him that turner had vaunted of his skilful thrust, and the way he had punished a man who tried to publicly shame him. others would thoughtlessly lament the spoiling of a good swordsman and a brave soldier. the mere sight of the turnings to whitefriars would rouse the evil spirit nestling in sanquhar's heart. eagerly he sought for turner, till he found he was gone down to norris's house, in oxfordshire--the very place where the fatal wound had been inflicted. being thus for the time foiled, sanquhar returned to scotland, and for the present delayed his revenge. on his next visit to london sanquhar, cruel and steadfast as a bloodhound, again sought for turner. yet the difficulty was to surprise the man, for sanquhar was well known in all the taverns and fencing-schools of whitefriars, and yet did not remember turner sufficiently well to be sure of him. he therefore hired two scotchmen, who undertook his assassination; but, in spite of this, turner somehow or other was hard to get at, and escaped his two pursuers and the relentless man whose money had bought them. business then took sanquhar again to france, but on his return the brooding revenge, now grown to a monomania, once more burst into a flame. at last he hired carlisle and gray, two scotchmen, who were to take a lodging in whitefriars, to discover the best way for sanquhar himself to strike a sure blow at the unconscious fencing-master. these men, after some reconnoitring, assured their employer that he could not himself get at turner, but that they would undertake to do so, to which sanquhar assented. but gray's heart failed him after this, and he slipped away, and turner went again out of town, to fence at some country mansion. upon this carlisle, a resolute villain, came to his employer and told him with grim set face that, as gray had deceived him and there was "trust in no knave of them all," he would e'en have nobody but himself, and would assuredly kill turner on his return, though it were with the loss of his own life. irving, a border lad, and page to lord sanquhar, ultimately joined carlisle in the assassination. on the th of may, , about seven o'clock in the evening, the two murderers came to a tavern in whitefriars, which turner usually frequented as he returned from his fencing-school. turner, sitting at the door with one of his friends, seeing the men, saluted them, and asked them to drink. carlisle turned to cock the pistol he had prepared, then wheeled round, and drawing the pistol from under his coat, discharged it full at the unfortunate fencing-master, and shot him near the left breast. turner had only time to cry, "lord have mercy upon me--i am killed," and fell from the ale-bench, dead. carlisle and irving at once fled--carlisle to the town, irving towards the river; but the latter, mistaking a court where wood was sold for the turning into an alley, was instantly run down and taken. carlisle was caught in scotland, gray as he was shipping at a seaport for sweden; and sanquhar himself, hearing one hundred pounds were offered for his head, threw himself on the king's mercy by surrendering himself as an object of pity to the archbishop of canterbury. but no intercession could avail. it was necessary for james to show that he would not spare scottish more than english malefactors. sanquhar was tried in westminster hall on the th of june, before mr. justice yelverton. sir francis bacon, the solicitor-general, did what he could to save the revengeful scot, but it was impossible to keep him from the gallows. robert creighton, lord sanquhar, therefore, confessed himself guilty, but pleaded extenuating circumstances. he had, he said, always believed that turner boasted he had put out his eye of set purpose, though at the taking up the foils he (sanquhar) had specially protested that he played as a scholar, and not as one able to contend with a master in the profession. the mode of playing among scholars was always to spare the face. "after this loss of my eye," continued the quasi-repentant murderer, "and with the great hazard of the loss of life, i must confess that i ever kept a grudge of my soul against turner, but had no purpose to take so high a revenge; yet in the course of my revenge i considered not my wrongs upon terms of christianity--for then i should have sought for other satisfaction--but, being trained up in the courts of princes and in arms, i stood upon the terms of honour, and thence befell this act of dishonour, whereby i have offended--first, god; second, my prince; third, my native country; fourth, this country; fifth, the party murdered; sixth, his wife; seventh, posterity; eighth, carlisle, now to be executed; and lastly, ninth, my own soul, and i am now to die for my offence. but, my lords," he added, "besides my own offence, which in its nature needs no aggravation, divers scandalous reports are given out which blemish my reputation, which is more dear to me than my life: first, that i made show of reconciliation with turner, the which, i protest, is utterly untrue, for what i have formerly said i do again assure your good lordships, that ever after my hurt received i kept a grudge in my soul against him, and never made the least pretence of reconciliation with him. yet this, my lords, i will say, that if he would have confessed and sworn he did it not of purpose, and withal would have foresworn arms, i would have pardoned him; for, my lords, i considered that it must be done either of set purpose or ignorantly. if the first, i had no occasion to pardon him; if the last, that is no excuse in a master, and therefore for revenge of such a wrong i thought him unworthy to bear arms." lord sanquhar then proceeded to deny the aspersion that he was an ill-natured fellow, ever revengeful, and delighting in blood. he confessed, however, that he was never willing to put up with a wrong, nor to pardon where he had a power to retaliate. he had never been guilty of blood till now, though he had occasion to draw his sword, both in the field and on sudden violences, where he had both given and received hurts. he allowed that, upon commission from the king to suppress wrongs done him in his own country, he had put divers of the johnsons to death, but for that he hoped he had need neither to ask god nor man for forgiveness. he denied, on his salvation, that by the help of his countrymen he had attempted to break prison and escape. the condemned prisoner finally begged the lords to let the following circumstances move them to pity and the king to mercy:--first, the indignity received from so mean a man; second, that it was done willingly, for he had been informed that turner had bragged of it after it was done; third, the perpetual loss of his eye; fourth, the want of law to give satisfaction in such a case; fifth, the continued blemish he had received thereby. the solicitor-general (bacon), in his speech, took the opportunity of fulsomely bepraising the king after his manner. he represented the sputtering, drunken, corrupt james as almost divine, in his energy and sagacity. he had stretched forth his long arms (for kings, he said, had long arms), and taken gray as he shipped for sweden, carlisle ere he was yet warm in his house in scotland. he had prosecuted the offenders "with the breath and blasts of his mouth;" "so that," said this gross time-server, "i may conclude that his majesty hath showed himself god's true lieutenant, and that he is no respecter of persons, but english, scots, noblemen, fencers (which is but an ignoble trade), are all to him alike in respect of justice. nay, i may say further, that his majesty hath had in this matter a kind of prophetical spirit, for at what time carlisle and gray, and you, my lord, yourself, were fled no man knew whither, to the four winds, the king ever spoke in confident and undertaking manner, that wheresoever the offenders were in europe, he would produce them to justice." mr. justice yelverton, though bacon had altogether taken the wind out of his sails, summed up in the same vein, to prove that james was a solomon and a prophet, and would show no favouritism to scotchmen. he held out no hope of a reprieve. "the base and barbarous murder," he said, with ample legal verbiage, "was exceeding strange;--done upon the sudden! done in an instant! done with a pistol! done with your own pistol! under the colour of kindness. as cain talked with his brother abel, he rose up and slew him. your executioners of the murder left the poor miserable man no time to defend himself, scarce any time to breathe out those last words, 'lord, have mercy upon me!' the ground of the malice that you bore him grew not out of any offence that he ever willingly gave you, but out of the pride and haughtiness of your own self; for that in the false conceit of your own skill you would needs importune him to that action, the sequel whereof did most unhappily breed your blemish--the loss of your eye." the manner of his death would be, no doubt, as he (the prisoner) would think, unbefitting to a man of his honour and blood (a baron of years' antiquity), but was fit enough for such an offender. lord sanquhar was then sentenced to be hung till he was dead. the populace, from whom he expected "scorn and disgrace," were full of pity for a man to be cut off, like shakespeare's claudio, in his prime, and showed great compassion. on the th of june (st. peter's day) lord sanquhar was hung before westminster hall. on the ladder he confessed the enormity of his sins, but said that till his trial, blinded by the devil, he could not see he had done anything unfitting a man of his rank and quality, who had been trained up in the wars, and had lived the life of a soldier, standing more on points of honour than religion. he then professed that he died a roman catholic, and begged all roman catholics present to pray for him. he had long, he said, for worldly reasons, neglected the public profession of his faith, and he thought god was angry with him. his religion was a good religion--a saving religion--and if he had been constant to it he was verily persuaded he should never have fallen into that misery. he then prayed for the king, queen, their issue, the state of england and scotland, and the lords of the council and church, after which the wearied executioner threw him from the ladder, suffering him to hang a long time to display the king's justice. the compassion and sympathy of the people present had abated directly they found he was a roman catholic. the same morning, very early, carlisle and irving were hung on two gibbets in fleet street, over against the great gate of the whitefriars. the page's gibbet was six feet higher than the serving-man's, it being the custom at that time in scotland that, when a gentleman was hung at the same time with one of meaner quality, the gentleman had the honour of the higher gibbet, feeling much aggrieved if he had not. [illustration: the murder of turner (_see page _).] the riotous little kingdom of whitefriars, with all its frowzy and questionable population, has been admirably drawn by scott in his fine novel of "the fortunes of nigel," recently so pleasantly recalled to our remembrance by mr. andrew halliday's dexterous dramatic adaptation. sir walter chooses a den of alsatia as a sanctuary for young nigel, after his duel with dalgarno. at one stroke of scott's pen, the foggy, crowded streets eastward of the temple rise before us, and are thronged with shaggy, uncombed ruffians, with greasy shoulder-belts, discoloured scarves, enormous moustaches, and torn hats. with what a teniers' pencil the great novelist sketches the dingy precincts, with its blackguardly population:--"the wailing of children," says the author of "nigel," "the scolding of their mothers, the miserable exhibition of ragged linen hung from the windows to dry, spoke the wants and distresses of the wretched inhabitants; while the sounds of complaint were mocked and overwhelmed by the riotous shouts, oaths, profane songs, and boisterous laughter that issued from the ale-houses and taverns, which, as the signs indicated, were equal in number to all the other houses; and that the full character of the place might be evident, several faded, tinselled, and painted females looked boldly at the strangers from their open lattices, or more modestly seemed busied with the cracked flower-pots, filled with mignonette and rosemary, which were disposed in front of the windows, to the great risk of the passengers." it is to a dilapidated tavern in the same foul neighbourhood that the gay templar, it will be remembered, takes nigel to be sworn in a brother of whitefriars by drunken and knavish duke hildebrod, whom he finds surrounded by his councillors--a bullying low country soldier, a broken attorney, and a hedge parson; and it is here also, at the house of old miser trapbois, the young scot so narrowly escapes death at the hands of the poor old wretch's cowardly assassins. [illustration: bridewell, as rebuilt after the fire, from an old print (_see page _).] the scoundrels and cheats of whitefriars are admirably etched by dryden's rival, shadwell. that unjustly-treated writer (for he was by no means a fool) has called one of his comedies, in the ben jonson manner, _the squire of alsatia_. it paints the manners of the place at the latter end of charles ii.'s reign, when the dregs of an age that was indeed full of dregs were vatted in that disreputable sanctuary east of the temple. the "copper captains," the degraded clergymen who married anybody, without inquiry, for five shillings, the broken lawyers, skulking bankrupts, sullen homicides, thievish money-lenders, and gaudy courtesans, dryden's burly rival has painted with a brush full of colour, and with a brightness, clearness, and sharpness which are photographic in their force and truth. in his dedication, which is inscribed to that great patron of poets, the poetical earl of dorset, shadwell dwells on the great success of the piece, the plot of which he had cleverly "adapted" from the _adelphi_ of terence. in the prologue, which was spoken by mountfort, the actor, whom the infamous lord mohun stabbed in norfolk street, the dramatist ridicules his tormenter dryden, for his noise and bombast, and with some vigour writes-- "with what prodigious scarcity of wit did the new authors starve the hungry pit! infected by the french, you must have rhyme, which long to please the ladies' ears did chime. soon after this came ranting fustian in, and none but plays upon the fret were seen, such daring bombast stuff which fops would praise, tore our best actors' lungs, cut short their days. some in small time did this distemper kill; and had the savage authors gone on still, fustian had been a new disease i' the bill." the moral of shadwell's piece is the danger of severity in parents. an elder son, being bred up under restraint, turns a rakehell in whitefriars, whilst the younger, who has had his own way, becomes "an ingenious, well-accomplished gentleman, a man of honour in king's bench walk, and of excellent disposition and temper," in spite of a good deal more gallantry than our stricter age would pardon. the worst of it is that the worthy son is always being mistaken for the scamp, while the miserable tony lumpkin passes for a time as the pink of propriety. eventually, he falls into the hands of some alsatian tricksters. the first of these, cheatley, is a rascal who, "by reason of debts, does not stir out of whitefriars, but there inveigles young men of fortune, and helps them to goods and money upon great disadvantage, is bound for them, and shares with them till he undoes them." shadwell tickets him, in his _dramatis personæ_, as "a lewd, impudent, debauched fellow." according to his own account, the cheat lies perdu, because his unnatural father is looking for him, to send him home into the country. number two, shamwell, is a young man of fortune, who, ruined by cheatley, has turned decoy-duck, and lives on a share of the spoil. his ostensible reason for concealment is that an alderman's young wife had run away with him. the third rascal, scrapeall, is a low, hypocritical money-lender, who is secretly in partnership with cheatley. the fourth rascal is captain hackman, a bullying coward, whose wife keeps lodgings, sells cherry brandy, and is of more than doubtful virtue. he had formerly been a sergeant in flanders, but ran from his colours, dubbed himself captain, and sought refuge in the friars from a paltry debt. this blustering scamp stands much upon his honour, and is alternately drawing his enormous sword and being tweaked by the nose. a lion in the estimation of fools, he boasts over his cups that he has whipped five men through the lungs. he talks a detestable cant language, calling guineas "megs," and half-guineas "smelts." money, with him is "the ready," "the rhino," "the darby;" a good hat is "a rum nab;" to be well off is to be "rhinocerical." this consummate scoundrel teaches young country tony lumpkins to break windows, scour the streets, to thrash the constables, to doctor the dice, and get into all depths of low mischief. finally, when old sir william belfond, the severe old country gentleman, comes to confront his son, during his disgraceful revels at the "george" tavern, in dogwell court, bouverie street, the four scamps raise a shout of "an arrest! an arrest! a bailiff! a bailiff!" the drawers join in the tumult; the friars, in a moment, is in an uproar; and eventually the old gentleman is chased by all the scum of alsatia, shouting at the top of their voices, "stop! stop! a bailiff! a bailiff!" he has a narrow escape of being pulled to pieces, and emerges in fleet street, hot, bespattered, and bruised. it was no joke then to threaten the privileges of whitefriars. presently a horn is blown, there is a cry from water lane to hanging-sword alley, from ashen-tree court to temple gardens, of "tipstaff! an arrest! an arrest!" and in a moment they are "up in the friars," with a cry of "fall on." the skulking debtors scuttle into their burrows, the bullies fling down cup and can, lug out their rusty blades, and rush into the _mêlée_. from every den and crib red-faced, bloated women hurry with fire-forks, spits, cudgels, pokers, and shovels. they're "up in the friars," with a vengeance. pouring into the temple before the templars can gather, they are about to drag old sir william under the pump, when the worthy son comes to the rescue, and the templars, with drawn swords, drive back the rabble, and make the porters shut the gates leading into alsatia. cheatley, shamwell, and hackman, taken prisoners, are then well drubbed and pumped on by the templars, and the gallant captain loses half his whiskers. "the terror of his face," he moans, "is gone." "indeed," says cheatley, "your magnanimous phiz is somewhat disfigured by it, captain." cheatley threatened endless actions. hackman swears his honour is very tender, and that this one affront will cost him at least five murders. as for shamwell, he is inconsolable. "what reparation are actions?" he moans, as he shakes his wet hair and rubs his bruised back. "i am a gentleman, and can never show my face amongst my kindred more." when at last they have got free, they all console themselves with cherry brandy from hackman's shop, after which the "copper captain" observes, somewhat in falstaff's manner, "a fish has a cursed life on't. i shall have that aversion to water after this, that i shall scarce ever be cleanly enough to wash my face again." later in the play there is still another rising in alsatia, but this time the musketeers come in force, in spite of all privileges, and the scuffle is greater than ever. some debtors run up and down without coats, others with still more conspicuous deficiencies. some cry, "oars! oars! sculler; five pound for a boat; ten pound for a boat; twenty pound for a boat;" many leap from balconies, and make for the water, to escape to the savoy or the mint, also sanctuaries of that day. the play ends with a dignified protest, which doubtless proved thoroughly effective with the audience, against the privileges of places that harboured such knots of scoundrels. "was ever," shadwell says, "such impudence suffered in a government? ireland conquered; wales subdued; scotland united. but there are some few spots of ground in london, just in the face of the government, unconquered yet, that hold in rebellion still. methinks 'tis strange that places so near the king's palace should be no part of his dominions. 'tis a shame in the society of law to countenance such practices. should any place be shut against the king's writ or posse comitatus?" be sure the pugnacious young templars present all rose at that, and great was the thundering of red-heeled shoes. king william probably agreed with shadwell, for at the latter end of his reign the privilege of sanctuary was taken from whitefriars, and the dogs were at last let in on the rats for whom they had been so long waiting. two other places of refuge--the mint and the savoy--however, escaped a good deal longer; and there the hackmans and cheatleys of the day still hid their ugly faces after daylight had been let into whitefriars and the wild days of alsatia had ceased for ever. in earlier times there had been evidently special endeavours to preserve order in whitefriars, for in the state paper office there exist the following rules for the inhabitants of the sanctuary in the reign of elizabeth:-- "_item._ theise gates shalbe orderly shutt and opened at convenient times, and porters appointed for the same. also, a scavenger to keep the precincte clean. "_item._ tipling houses shalbe bound for good order. "_item._ searches to be made by the constables, with the assistance of the inhabitants, at the commandmente of the justices. "_item._ rogues and vagabondes and other disturbers of the public peace shall be corrected and punished by the authoretie of the justices. "_item._ a bailife to be appointed for leavienge of such duties and profittes which apperteine unto her matie; as also for returne of proces for execution of justice. "_item._ incontinent persons to be presented unto the ordenary, to be tried, and punished. "_item._ the poore within the precincte shalbe provyded for by the inhabitantes of the same. "_item._ in tyme of plague, good order shalbe taken for the restrainte of the same. "_item._ lanterne and light to be mainteined duringe winter time." all traces of its former condition have long since disappeared from whitefriars, and it is difficult indeed to believe that the dull, uninteresting region that now lies between fleet street and the thames was once the riotous alsatia of scott and shadwell. and now we come to bridewell, first a palace, then a prison. the old palace of bridewell (bridget's well) was rebuilt upon the site of the old tower of montfiquet (a soldier of the conqueror's) by henry viii., for the reception of charles v. of france in . there had been a roman fortification in the same place, and a palace both of the saxon and norman kings. henry i. partly rebuilt the palace; and in a vault with norman billet moulding was discovered in excavating the site of a public-house in bride lane. it remained neglected till cardinal wolsey (_circa_ ) came in pomp to live here. here, in , when henry's affection for anne boleyn was growing, he made her father (thomas boleyn, treasurer of the king's house) viscount rochforde. a letter of wolsey's, june , , to the lord admiral, is dated from "my poor house at bridewell;" and from to no less than £ , was paid in repairs. another letter from wolsey, at bridewell, mentions that the house of the lord prior of st. john's hospital, at bridewell, had been granted by the king for a record office. the palace must have been detestable enough to the monks, for it was to his palace of bridewell that henry viii. summoned the abbots and other heads of religious societies, and succeeded in squeezing out of them £ , , the contumacious cistercians alone yielding up £ , . it was at the palace at bridewell (in ) that king henry viii. first disclosed the scruples that, after his acquaintance with anne boleyn, troubled his sensitive conscience as to his marriage with katherine of arragon. "a few days later," says lingard, condensing the old chronicles, "the king undertook to silence the murmurs of the people, and summoned to his residence in the bridewell the members of the council, the lords of his court, and the mayor, aldermen, and principal citizens. before them he enumerated the several injuries which he had received from the emperor, and the motives which induced him to seek the alliance of france. then, taking to himself credit for delicacy of conscience, he described the scruples which had long tormented his mind on account of his marriage with his deceased brother's widow. these he had at first endeavoured to suppress, but they had been revived and confirmed by the alarming declaration of the bishop of tarbes in the presence of his council. to tranquillise his mind he had recourse to the only legitimate remedy: he had consulted the pontiff, who had appointed two delegates to hear the case, and by their judgment he was determined to abide. he would therefore warn his subjects to be cautious how they ventured to arraign his conduct. the proudest among them should learn that he was their sovereign, and should answer with their heads for the presumption of their tongues." yet, notwithstanding he made all this parade of conscious superiority, henry was prudent enough not by any means to refuse the aid of precaution. a rigorous search was made for arms, and all strangers, with the exception only of ten merchants from each nation, were ordered to leave the capital. at the trial for divorce the poor queen behaved with much womanly dignity. "the judges," says hall, the chronicler, and after him stow, "commanded the crier to proclaim silence while their commission was read, both to the court and the people assembled. that done, the scribes commanded the crier to call the king by the name of 'king henry of england, come into court,' &c. with that the king answered, and said, 'here.' then he called the queen, by the name of 'katherine, queen of england, come into court,' &c, who made no answer, but rose incontinent out of her chair, and because she could not come to the king directly, for the distance secured between them, she went about, and came to the king, kneeling down at his feet in the sight of all the court and people, to whom she said in effect these words, as followeth: 'sir,' quoth she, 'i desire you to do me justice and right, and take some pity upon me, for i am a poor woman and a stranger, born out of your dominion, having here so indifferent counsel, and less assurance of friendship. alas! sir, in what have i offended you? or what occasion of displeasure have i showed you, intending thus to put me from you after this sort? i take god to judge, i have been to you a true and humble wife, ever conformable to your will and pleasure; that never contrarised or gainsaid anything thereof; and being always contented with all things wherein you had any delight or dalliance, whether little or much, without grudge or countenance of discontent or displeasure. i loved for your sake all them you loved, whether i had cause or no cause, whether they were my friends or my enemies. i have been your wife these twenty years or more, and you have had by me divers children; and when ye had me at the first, i take god to be judge that i was a very maid; and whether it be true or not, i put it to your conscience. if there be any just cause that you can allege against me, either of dishonesty or matter lawful, to put me from you, i am content to depart, to my shame and rebuke; and if there be none, then i pray you to let me have justice at your hands. the king, your father, was, in his time, of such excellent wit, that he was accounted among all men for wisdom to be a second solomon; and the king of spain, my father, ferdinand, was reckoned one of the wisest princes that reigned in spain many years before. it is not, therefore, to be doubted but that they had gathered as wise counsellors unto them of every realm as to their wisdom they thought meet; and as to me seemeth, there were in those days as wise and well-learned in both realms as now at this day, who thought the marriage between you and me good and lawful. therefore it is a wonder to me to hear what new inventions are now invented against me, that never intended but honesty, and now to cause me to stand to the order and judgment of this court. ye should, as seemeth me, do me much wrong, for ye may condemn me for lack of answer, having no counsel but such as ye have assigned me; ye must consider that they cannot but be indifferent on my part, where they be your own subjects, and such as ye have taken and chosen out of your council, whereunto they be privy, and dare not disclose your will and intent. therefore, i humbly desire you, in the way of charity, to spare me until i may know what counsel and advice my friends in spain will advertise me to take; and if you will not, then your pleasure be fulfilled.' with that she rose up, making a low curtsey to the king, and departed from thence, people supposing that she would have resorted again to her former place, but she took her way straight out of the court, leaning upon the arm of one of her servants, who was her receiver-general, called master griffith. the king, being advertised that she was ready to go out of the house where the court was kept, commanded the crier to call her again by these words, 'katherine, queen of england,' &c. with that, quoth master griffith, 'madam, ye be called again.' 'oh! oh!' quoth she, 'it maketh no matter; it is no indifferent (impartial) court for me, therefore i will not tarry: go on your ways.' and thus she departed without any further answer at that time, or any other, and never would appear after in any court." bridewell was endowed with the revenues of the savoy. in the city companies were taxed for fitting it up; and the next year machyn records that a thief was hung in one of the courts, and, later on, a riotous attempt was made to rescue prisoners. in mr. lemon discovered in the state paper office some interesting documents relative to the imprisonment in bridewell, in (elizabeth), of many members of the first congregational church. bishop grindal, writing to bullinger, in describes this schism, and estimates its adherents at about , but more women than men. grindal says they held meetings and administered the sacrament in private houses, fields, and even in ships, and ordained ministers, elders, and deacons, after their own manner. the lord mayor, in pity, urged them to recant, but they remained firm. several of these sufferers for conscience' sake died in prison, including richard fitz, their minister, and thomas rowland, a deacon. in the year , within two months, , prisoners, including many spaniards, were sent to bridewell. the bridewell soon proved costly and inconvenient to the citizens, by attracting idle, abandoned, and "masterless" people. in (james i.) the city erected at bridewell twelve large granaries and two coal-stores; and in the old chapel was enlarged. in the great fire (six years after the restoration) the buildings were nearly all destroyed, and the old castellated river-side mansion of elizabeth's time was rebuilt in two quadrangles, the chief of which fronted the fleet river (now a sewer under the centre of bridge street). we have already given on page a view of bridewell as it appeared previous to the great fire; and the general bird's-eye view given on page in the present number shows its appearance after it was rebuilt. within the present century, mr. timbs says, the committee-rooms, chapel, and prisons were rebuilt, and the whole formed a large quadrangle, with an entrance from bridge street, the keystone of the arch being sculptured with the head of edward vi. bridewell stone bridge over the fleet was painted by hayman, hogarth's friend, and engraved by grignon, as the frontispiece to the third volume of "the dunciad." in the burial-ground at bridewell, now the coal-yard of the city gas company, was buried, in , dr. johnson's friend and _protégé_, poor blameless levett. the last interment took place here, mr. noble says, in , and the trees and tombstones were then carted away. the gateway into bridge street is still standing, and such portions of the building as still remain are used for the house and offices of the treasury of the bridewell hospital property, which includes bedlam. the flogging at bridewell is described by ward, in his "london spy." both men and women, it appears, were whipped on their naked backs before the court of governors. the president sat with his hammer in his hand, and the culprit was taken from the post when the hammer fell. the calls to _knock_ when women were flogged were loud and incessant. "oh, good sir robert, knock! pray, good sir robert, knock!" which became at length a common cry of reproach among the lower orders, to denote that a woman had been whipped in bridewell. madame creswell, the celebrated procuress of king charles ii.'s reign, died a prisoner in bridewell. she desired by _will_ to have a sermon preached at her funeral, for which the preacher was to have £ , but upon this express condition, that he was to say nothing but what was well of her. a preacher was with some difficulty found who undertook the task. he, after a sermon preached on the general subject of mortality, concluded with saying, "by the will of the deceased, it is expected that i should mention her, and say nothing but what was _well_ of her. all that i shall say of her, therefore, is this: she was born _well_, she lived _well_, and she died _well_; for she was born with the name of cres_well_, she lived in clerken_well_, and she died in bride_well_." (cunningham.) [illustration: beating hemp in bridewell, after hogarth.] in (queen anne) hatton describes bridewell "as a house of correction for idle, vagrant, loose, and disorderly persons, and 'night walkers,' who are there set to hard labour, but receive clothes and diet." it was also a hospital for indigent persons. twenty art-masters (decayed traders) were also lodged, and received about apprentices. the boys, after learning tailoring, weaving, flax-dressing, &c., received the freedom of the city, and donations of £ each. many of these boys, says hatton, "arrived from nothing to be governors." they wore a blue dress and white hats, and attended fires, with an engine belonging to the hospital. the lads at last became so turbulent, that in their special costume was abandoned. "job's pound" was the old cant name for bridewell, and it is so called in "hudibras." the scene of the fourth plate of hogarth's "harlot's progress," finished in (george ii.), is laid in bridewell. there, in a long, dilapidated, tiled shed, a row of female prisoners are beating hemp on wooden blocks, while a truculent-looking warder, with an apron on, is raising his rattan to strike a poor girl not without some remains of her youthful beauty, who seems hardly able to lift the heavy mallet, while the wretches around leeringly deride her fine apron, laced hood, and figured gown. there are two degraded men among the female hemp-beaters--one an old card-sharper in laced coat and foppish wig; another who stands with his hands in a pillory, on which is inscribed the admonitory legend, "better to work than stand thus." a cocked hat and a dilapidated hoop hang on the wall. [illustration: interior of the duke's theatre, from settle's "empress of morocco" (_see page _).] that excellent man, howard, visiting bridewell in , gives it a bad name, in his book on "prisons." he describes the rooms as offensive, and the prisoners only receiving a penny loaf a day each. the steward received eightpence a day for each prisoner, and a hemp-dresser, paid a salary of £ , had the profit of the culprits' labour. for bedding the prisoners had fresh straw given them once a month. it was the only london prison where either straw or bedding was allowed. no out-door exercise was permitted. in the year there had been confined in bridewell prisoners. in , pennant describes bridewell as still having arches and octagonal towers of the old palace remaining, and a magnificent flight of ancient stairs leading to the court of justice. in the next room, where the whipping-stocks were, tradition says sentence of divorce was pronounced against katherine of arragon. "the first time," says pennant, "i visited the place, there was not a single male prisoner, but about twenty females. they were confined on a ground floor, and employed on the beating of hemp. when the door was opened by the keeper, they ran towards it like so many hounds in kennel, and presented a most moving sight. about twenty young creatures, the eldest not exceeding sixteen, many of them with angelic faces divested of every angelic expression, featured with impudence, impenitency, and profligacy, and clothed in the silken tatters of squalid finery. a magisterial--a national--opprobrium! what a disadvantageous contrast to the _spinhaus_, in amsterdam, where the confined sit under the eye of a matron, spinning or sewing, in plain and neat dresses provided by the public! no traces of their former lives appear in their countenances; a thorough reformation seems to have been effected, equally to the emolument and the honour of the republic. this is also the place of confinement for disobedient and idle apprentices. they are kept separate, in airy cells, and have an allotted task to be performed in a certain time. they, the men and women, are employed in beating hemp, picking oakum, and packing of goods, and are said to earn their maintenance." a writer in "knight's london" ( ) gives a very bad account of bridewell. "bridewell, another place of confinement in the city of london, is under the jurisdiction of the governors of bridewell and bethlehem hospitals, but it is supported out of the funds of the hospital. the entrance is in bridge street, blackfriars. the prisoners confined here are persons summarily convicted by the lord mayor and aldermen, and are, for the most part, petty pilferers, misdemeanants, vagrants, and refractory apprentices, sentenced to solitary confinement; which term need not terrify the said refractory offenders, for the persons condemned to solitude," says the writer, "can with ease keep up a conversation with each other from morning to night. the total number of persons confined here in was , , of whom were under seventeen, and were known or reputed thieves. in no employment was furnished to the prisoners. the men sauntered about from hour to hour in those chambers where the worn blocks still stood and exhibited the marks of the toil of those who are represented in hogarth's prints. "the treadmill has been now introduced, and more than five-sixths of the prisoners are sentenced to hard labour, the 'mill' being employed in grinding corn for bridewell, bethlehem, and the house of occupation. the 'seventh report of the inspectors of prisons on the city bridewell' is as follows:--'the establishment answers no one object of imprisonment except that of safe custody. it does not correct, deter, nor reform; but we are convinced that the association to which all but the city apprentices are subjected proves highly injurious, counteracts any efforts that can be made for the moral and religious improvement of the prisoners, corrupts the less criminal, and confirms the degradation of the more hardened offenders. the cells in the old part of the prison are greatly superior to those in the adjoining building, which is of comparatively recent erection, but the whole of the arrangements are exceedingly defective. it is quite lamentable to see such an injudicious and unprofitable expenditure as that which was incurred in the erection of this part of the prison.'" latterly bridewell was used as a receptacle for vagrants, and as a temporary lodging for paupers on their way to their respective parishes. the prisoners sentenced to hard labour were put on a treadmill which ground corn. the other prisoners picked junk. the women cleaned the prison, picked junk, and mended the linen. in there was built adjoining bedlam a house of occupation for young prisoners. it was decided that from the revenue of the bridewell hospital (£ , ) reformatory schools were to be built. the annual number of contumacious apprentices sent to bridewell rarely exceeded twenty-five, and when mr. timbs visited the prison in he says he found only one lad out of the three thousand apprentices of the great city. in (says mr. noble) the governors refused to receive a convicted apprentice, for the very excellent reason that there was no cell to receive him. the old court-room of bridewell ( by ) was a handsome wainscoted room, adorned with a great picture, erroneously attributed to holbein and representing edward vi. granting the royal charter of endowment to the mayor, which now hangs over the western gallery of the hall of christ's hospital. it was engraved by vertue in , and represents an event which happened ten years after the death of the supposed artist. beneath this was a cartoon of the good samaritan, by dadd, the young artist of promise who went mad and murdered his father, and who is now confined for life in broadmoor. the picture is now at bedlam. there was a fine full-length of swarthy charles ii., by lely, and full-lengths of george iii. and queen charlotte, after reynolds. there were also murky portraits of past presidents, including an equestrian portrait of sir william withers ( ). tables of benefactions also adorned the walls. in this hall the governors of bridewell dined annually, each steward contributing £ towards the expenses, the dinner being dressed in a large kitchen, below, only used for that purpose. the hall and kitchen were taken down in . in the entrance corridor from bridge street (says mr. timbs) are the old chapel gates, of fine iron-work, originally presented by the equestrian sir william withers, and on the staircase is a bust of the venerable chamberlain clarke, who died in his ninety-third year. the bridewell prison (whose inmates were sent to holloway) was pulled down (except the hall, treasurer's house, and offices) in . bridewell dock (now tudor and william streets and chatham place) was long noted for its taverns, and was a favourite landing-place for the thames watermen. (noble.) the gas-works of whitefriars are of great size. in mr. winsor, a german, first lit a part of london (pall mall) with gas, and in he applied for a charter. yet, even as late as , says mr. noble, the inquest-men of st. dunstan's, full of the vulgar prejudice of the day, prosecuted william sturt, of , fleet street, for continuing for three months past "the making of gaslight, and making and causing to be made divers large fires of coal and other things," by reason whereof and "divers noisome and offensive stinks and smells and vapours he causes the houses and dwellings near to be unhealthy, for which said nuisance one william knight, the occupier, was indicted at the sessions." the early users of coffee at the "rainbow," as we have seen in a previous chapter, underwent the same persecution. yet knight went on boldly committing his harmless misdemeanour, and even so far, in the next year ( ), as to start a company and build gas-works on the river's bank at whitefriars. gas spoke for itself, and its brilliancy could not be gainsaid. times have changed. there are now thirteen london companies, producing a rental of a million and a half, using in their manufacture , tons of coal, and employing a capital of more than five and a half millions. luckily for the beauty of the embankment, these gas-works at whitefriars, with their vast black reservoirs and all their smoke and fire, are about to be removed to barking, seven miles from london. the first theatre in whitefriars seems to have been one built in the hall of the old whitefriars monastery. mr. collier gives the duration of this theatre as from to . a memorandum from the manuscript-book of sir henry herbert, master of the revels to king charles i., notes that "i committed cromes, a broker in long lane, the th of february, , to the marshalsey, for lending a church robe, with the name of jesus upon it, to the players in salisbury court, to represent a flamen, a priest of the heathens. upon his petition of submission and acknowledgment of his fault, i released him the th february, ." from entries of the wardmote inquests of st. dunstan's, quoted by mr. noble, it appears that the whitefriars theatre (erected originally in the precincts of the monastery, to be out of the jurisdiction of the mayor) seems to have become disreputable in , and ruinous in , when it is mentioned that "the rain hath made its way in, and if it be not repaired it must soon be plucked down, or it will fall." the salisbury court theatre, that took its place, was erected about , and the earl of dorset somewhat illegally let it for a term of sixty-one years and £ down, dorset house being afterwards sold for £ , . the theatre was destroyed by the puritan soldiers in , and not rebuilt till the restoration. at the outbreak of pleasure and vice, after the restoration, the actors, long starved and crestfallen, brushed up their plumes and burnished their tinsel. killigrew, that clever buffoon of the court, opened a new theatre in drury lane in , with a play of beaumont and fletcher's; and davenant (supposed to be shakespeare's illegitimate son) opened the little theatre, long disused, in salisbury court, the rebuilding of which was commenced in , on the site of the granary of salisbury house. in time davenant migrated to the old tennis court, in portugal street, on the south side of lincoln's inn fields, and when the great fire came it erased the granary theatre. in , on davenant's death, the company (nominally managed by his widow) returned to the new theatre in salisbury court, designed by wren, and decorated, it is said, by grinling gibbons. it opened with dryden's _sir martin marall_, which had already had a run, having been first played in . on killigrew's death, the king's and duke's servants united, and removed to drury lane in ; so that the dorset gardens theatre only flourished for eleven years in all. it was subsequently let to wrestlers, fencers, and other brawny and wiry performers. the engraving on page , taken from settle's "empress of morocco" ( ), represents the stage of the theatre in lincoln's inn fields. wren's new theatre in dorset gardens, an engraving of which is given on page , fronted the river, and had public stairs for the convenience of those who came by water. there was also an open place before the theatre for the coaches of the "quality." in it was used for the drawing of a penny lottery, but in , when it threatened to re-open, queen anne finally closed it. it was standing in (george i.), when strype drew up the continuation of stow, but it was shortly after turned into a timber-yard. the new river company next had their offices there, and in water was ousted by fire, and the city gas works were established in this quarter, with a dismal front to the bright and pleasant embankment. pepys, the indefatigable, was a frequent visitor to the whitefriars theatre. a few of his quaint remarks will not be uninteresting:-- " .--by water to salsbury court playhouse, where, not liking to sit, we went out again, and by coach to the theatre, &c.--to the playhouse, and there saw _the changeling_, the first time it hath been acted these twenty years, and it takes exceedingly. besides, i see the gallants do begin to be tyred with the vanity and pride of the theatre actors, who are indeed grown very proud and rich. " .--to white-fryars, and saw _the bondman_ acted; an excellent play, and well done; but above all that i ever saw, betterton do the bondman the best. " .--after dinner i went to the theatre, where i found so few people (which is strange, and the reason i do not know) that i went out again, and so to salisbury court, where the house as full as could be; and it seems it was a new play, _the queen's maske_, wherein there are some good humours; among others, a good jeer to the old story of the siege of troy, making it to be a common country tale. but above all it was strange to see so little a boy as that was to act cupid, which is one of the greatest parts in it. "creed and i to salisbury court, and there saw _love's quarrell_ acted the first time, but i do not like the design or words..... to salsbury court playhouse, where was acted the first time a simple play, and ill acted, only it was my fortune to sit by a most pretty and most ingenuous lady, which pleased me much." dryden, in his prologues, makes frequent mention of the dorset gardens theatre, more especially in the address on the opening of the new drury lane, march, . the whitefriars house, under davenant, had been the first to introduce regular scenery, and it prided itself on stage pomp and show. the year before, in shadwell's opera of _the tempest, or the enchanted island_, the machinery was very costly, and one scene, in which the spirits flew away with the wicked duke's table and viands just as the company was sitting down, had excited the town to enthusiasm. _psyche_, another opera by shadwell, perhaps adapted from molière's court spectacle, had succeeded the _tempest_. st. andré and his french dancers were probably engaged in shadwell's piece. the king, whose taste and good sense the poet praises, had recommended simplicity of dress and frugality of ornament. this dryden took care to well remember. he says:-- "you who each day can theatres behold, like nero's palace, shining all in gold, our mean, ungilded stage will scorn, we fear, and for the homely room disdain the cheer." then he brings in the dictum of the king:-- "yet if some pride with want may be allowed, we in our plainness may be justly proud: our royal master willed it should be so; whate'er he's pleased to own can need no show. that sacred name gives ornament and grace, and, like his stamp, makes basest metal pass. 'twere folly now a stately pile to raise, to build a playhouse, while you throw down plays. while scenes, machines, and empty operas reign, and for the pencil you the pen disdain: while troops of famished frenchmen hither drive, and laugh at those upon whose alms they live, old english authors vanish, and give place to these new conquerors of the norman race." and when, in , the burnt-out drury lane company had removed to the portugal street theatre, dryden had said, in the same strain,-- "so we expect the lovers, braves, and wits; the gaudy house with scenes will serve for cits." in another epilogue dryden alludes sarcastically to the death of mr. scroop, a young rake of fortune, who had just been run through by sir thomas armstrong, a sworn friend of the duke of monmouth, in a quarrel at the dorset gardens theatre, and died soon after. this fatal affray took place during the representation of davenant's adaptation of _macbeth_. from dryden's various prologues and epilogues we cull many sharply-outlined and bright-coloured pictures of the wild and riotous audiences of those evil days. we see again the "hot burgundians" in the upper boxes wooing the masked beauties, crying "_bon_" to the french dancers and beating cadence to the music that had stirred even the stately court of versailles. again we see the scornful critics, bunched with glistening ribbons, shaking back their cascades of blonde hair, lolling contemptuously on the foremost benches, and "looking big through their curls." there from "fop's corner" rises the tipsy laugh, the prattle, and the chatter, as the dukes and lords, the wits and courtiers, practise what dryden calls "the diving bow," or "the toss and the new french wallow"--the diving bow being especially admired, because it-- "with a shog casts all the hair before, till he, with full decorum, brings it back, and rises with a water-spaniel's shake." nor does the poet fail to recall the affrays in the upper boxes, when some quarrelsome rake was often pinned to the wainscoat by the sword of his insulted rival. below, at the door, the flemish horses and the heavy gilded coach, lighted by flambeaux, are waiting for the noisy gallant, and will take back only his corpse. of dryden's coldly licentious comedies and ranting bombastic tragedies a few only seem to have been produced at the dorset gardens theatre. among these we may mention _limberham_, _oedipus_, _troilus and cressida_, and _the spanish friar_. _limberham_ was acted at the duke's theatre, in dorset gardens; because, being a satire upon a court vice, it was deemed peculiarly calculated for that playhouse. the concourse of the citizens thither is alluded to in the prologue to _marriage à la mode_. ravenscroft, also, in his epilogue to the play of _citizen turned gentleman_, which was acted at the same theatre, takes occasion to disown the patronage of the more dissolute courtiers, in all probability because they formed the minor part of his audience. the citizens were his great patrons. in the _postman_, december , , there is the following notice, quoted by smith:--"at the request of several persons of quality, on saturday next, being the th instant, at the theatre in dorset gardens, the famous kentish men, wm. and rich. joy, design to show to the town before they leave it the same tryals of strength, both of them, that wm. had the honour of showing before his majesty and their royal highnesses, with several other persons of quality, for which he received a considerable gratuity. the lifting a weight of two thousand two hundred and forty pounds. his holding an extraordinary large cart-horse; and breaking a rope which will bear three thousand five hundred weight. beginning exactly at two, and ending at four. the boxes, s.; the pit, s. d.; first gallery, s.; upper gallery, s. whereas several scandalous persons have given out that they can do as much as any of the brothers, we do offer to such persons £ reward, if he can perform the said matters of strength as they do, provided the pretender will forfeit £ if he doth not. the day it is performed will be affixed a signal-flag on the theatre. no money to be returned after once paid." in dr. davenant seems, by rather unfair tactics, to have bought off and pensioned both hart and kynaston from the king's company, and so to have greatly weakened his rivals. of these two actors some short notice may not be uninteresting. hart had been a cavalier captain during the civil wars, and was a pupil of robinson, the actor, who was shot down at the taking of basing house. hart was a tragedian who excelled in parts that required a certain heroic and chivalrous dignity. as a youth, before the restoration, when boys played female parts, hart was successful as the duchess, in shirley's _cardinal_. in charles's time he played othello, by the king's command, and rivalled betterton's hamlet at the other house. he created the part of alexander, was excellent as brutus, and terribly and vigorously wicked as ben jonson's cataline. rymer, says dr. doran, styled hart and mohun the Æsopus and roscius of their time. as amintor and melanthus, in _the maid's tragedy_, they were incomparable. pepys is loud too in his praises of hart. his salary, was, however, at the most, £ a week, though he realised £ , yearly after he became a shareholder of the theatre. hart died in , within a year of his being bought off. kynaston, in his way, was also a celebrity. as a handsome boy he had been renowned for playing heroines, and he afterwards acquired celebrity by his dignified impersonation of kings and tyrants. betterton, the greatest of all the charles ii. actors, also played occasionally at dorset gardens. pope knew him; dryden was his friend; kneller painted him. he was probably the greatest hamlet that ever appeared; and cibber sums up all eulogy of him when he says, "i never heard a line in tragedy come from betterton wherein my judgment, my ear, and my imagination were not fully satisfied, which since his time i cannot equally say of any one actor whatsoever." the enchantment of his voice was such, adds the same excellent dramatic critic, that the multitude no more cared for sense in the words he spoke, "than our musical connoiseurs think it essential in the celebrated airs of an italian opera." even when whitefriars was at its grandest, and plumes moved about its narrow river-side streets, dorset house was its central and most stately mansion. it was originally a mansion with gardens, belonging to a bishop of winchester; but about the year (henry iii.) a lease was granted by william, abbot of westminster, to richard, bishop of sarum, at the yearly rent of twenty shillings, the abbot retaining the advowson of st. bride's church, and promising to impart to the said bishop any needful ecclesiastical advice. it afterwards fell into the hands of the sackvilles, held at first by a long lease from the see, but was eventually alienated by the good bishop jewel. a grant in (james i.) confirmed the manor of salisbury court to richard, earl of dorset. [illustration: baynard's castle, from a view published in (_see page _).] the earl of dorset, to whom bishop jewel alienated the whitefriars house, was the father of the poet, thomas sackville, lord high treasurer to queen elizabeth. the bishop received in exchange for the famous old house a piece of land near cricklade, in wiltshire. the poet earl was that wise old statesman who began "the mirror for magistrates," an allegorical poem of gloomy power, in which the poet intended to make all the great statesmen of england since the conquest pass one by one to tell their troublous stories. he, however, only lived to write one legend--that of henry stafford, duke of buckingham. one of his finest and most holbeinesque passages relates to old age:-- "and next in order sad, old age we found; his beard all hoar, his eyes hollow and blind; with drooping cheer still poring on the ground, as on the place where nature him assigned to rest, when that the sisters had untwined his vital thread, and ended with their knife the fleeting course of fast declining life. crooked-back'd he was, tooth-shaken, and blear-eyed, went on three feet, and sometimes crept on four, with old lame bones, that rattled by his side; his scalp all pil'd, and he with eld forelore, his wither'd fist still knocking at death's door; fumbling and drivelling, as he draws his breath; for brief, the shape and messenger of death." at the restoration, the marquis of newcastle,--the author of a magnificent book on horsemanship--and his pedantic wife, whom scott has sketched so well in "peveril of the peak," inhabited a part of dorset house; but whether great dorset house or little dorset house, topographers do not record. "great dorset house," says mr. peter cunningham, quoting lady anne clifford's "memoirs," "was the jointure house of cicely baker, dowager countess of dorset, who died in it in (james i.)." [illustration: falling in of the chapel at blackfriars (_see page _).] chapter xviii. blackfriars. three norman fortresses on the thames' bank--the black parliament--the trial of katherine of arragon--shakespeare a blackfriars manager--the blackfriars puritans--the jesuit sermon at hunsdon house--fatal accident--extraordinary escapes--queen elizabeth at lord herbert's marriage--old blackfriars bridge--johnson and mylne--laying of the stone--the inscription--a toll riot--failure of the bridge--the new bridge--bridge street--sir richard phillips and his works--painters in blackfriars--the king's printing office--printing house square--the _times_ and its history--walter's enterprise--war with the _dispatch_--- the gigantic swindling scheme exposed by the _times_--apothecaries' hall--quarrel with the college of physicians. on the river-side, between st. paul's and whitefriars, there stood, in the middle ages, three norman fortresses. castle baynard and the old tower of mountfiquet were two of them. baynard castle, granted to the earls of clare and afterwards rebuilt by humphrey duke of gloucester, was the palace in which the duke of buckingham offered the crown to his wily confederate, richard the crookback. in queen elizabeth's time it was granted to the earls of pembroke, who lived there in splendour till the great fire melted their gold, calcined their jewels, and drove them into the fashionable flood that was already moving westward. mountfiquet castle was pulled down in , when hubert de berg, earl of kent, transplanted a colony of black dominican friars from holborn, near lincoln's inn, to the river-side, south of ludgate hill. yet so conservative is even time in england, that a recent correspondent of _notes and queries_ points out a piece of mediæval walling and the fragment of a buttress, still standing, at the foot of the _times_ office, in printing house square, which seem to have formed part of the stronghold of the mountfiquets. this interesting relic is on the left hand of queen victoria street, going up from the bridge, just where there was formerly a picturesque but dangerous descent by a flight of break-neck stone steps. at the right-hand side of the same street stands an old rubble chalk wall, even older. it is just past the new house of the bible society, and seems to have formed part of the old city wall, which at first ended at baynard castle. the rampart advanced to mountfiquet, and, lastly, to please and protect the dominicans, was pushed forward outside ludgate to the fleet, which served as a moat, the old bailey being an advanced work. king edward i. and queen eleanor heaped many gifts on these sable friars. charles v. of france was lodged at their monastery when he visited england, but his nobles resided in henry's newly-built palace of bridewell, a gallery being thrown over the fleet and driven through the city wall, to serve as a communication between the two mansions. henry held the "black parliament" in this monastery, and here cardinal campeggio presided at the trial which ended with the tyrant's divorce from the ill-used katherine of arragon. in the same house the parliament also sat that condemned wolsey, and sent him to beg "a little earth for charity" of the monks of leicester. the rapacious king laid his rough hand on the treasures of the house in , and edward vi. sold the hall and prior's lodgings to sir francis bryan, a courtier, afterwards granting sir francis cawarden, master of the revels, the whole house and precincts of the preacher friars, the yearly value being then valued at nineteen pounds. the holy brothers were dispersed to beg or thieve, and the church was pulled down, but the mischievous right of sanctuary continued. and now we come to the event which connects the old monastic ground with the name of the great genius of england. james burbage (afterwards shakespeare's friend and fellow actor), and other servants of the earl of leicester, tormented out of the city by the angry edicts of over-scrupulous lord mayors, took shelter in the precinct, and there, in , erected a playhouse (playhouse yard). every attempt was in vain made to crush the intruders. about the year , according to the best authorities, the young shakespeare came to london and joined the company at the blackfriars theatre. only three years later we find the new arrival--and this is one of the unsolvable mysteries of shakespeare's life--one of sixteen sharers in the prosperous though persecuted theatre. it is true that mr. halliwell has lately discovered that he was not exactly a proprietor, but only an actor, receiving a share of the profits of the house, exclusive of the galleries (the boxes and dress circle of those days), but this is, after all, only a lessening of the difficulty; and it is almost as remarkable that a young, unknown warwickshire poet should receive such profits as it is that he should have held a sixteenth of the whole property. without the generous patronage of such patrons as the earl of southampton or lord brooke, how could the young actor have thriven? he was only twenty-six, and may have written "venus and adonis" or "lucrece;" yet the first of these poems was not published till . he may already, it is true, have adapted one or two tolerably successful historical plays, and, as mr. collier thinks, might have written _the comedy of errors_, _love's labour's lost_, or _the two gentlemen of verona_. one thing is certain, that in five companies of players, including the blackfriars company, performed at stratford, and in his native town mr. collier thinks shakespeare first proved himself useful to his new comrades. in the lord mayor closed two theatres for ridiculing the puritans. burbage and his friends, alarmed at this, petitioned the privy council, and pleaded that they had never introduced into their plays matters of state or religion. the blackfriars company, in , began to build a summer theatre, the globe, in southwark; and mr. collier, remembering that this was the very year "venus and adonis" was published, attributes some great gift of the earl of southampton to shakespeare to have immediately followed this poem, which was dedicated to him. by the poet had written _king richard ii._ and _king richard iii._, and burbage's son richard had made himself famous as the first representative of the crook-backed king. in we find shakespeare and his partners (only eight now) petitioning the privy council to allow them to repair and enlarge their theatre, which the puritans of blackfriars wanted to close. the council allowed the repairs, but forbade the enlargement. at this time shakespeare was living near the bear garden, southwark, to be close to the globe. he was now evidently a thriving, "warm" man, for in he purchased for £ new place, one of the best houses in stratford. in we find shakespeare purchasing a plot of ground not far from blackfriars theatre, and abutting on a street leading down to puddle wharf, "right against the king's majesty's wardrobe;" but he had retired to stratford, and given up london and the stage before this. the deed of this sale was sold in for £ s. in the lord mayor and aldermen of london made a final attempt to crush the blackfriars players, but failing to prove to the lord chancellor that the city had ever exercised any authority within the precinct and liberty of blackfriars, their cause fell to the ground. the corporation then opened a negotiation for purchase with burbage, shakespeare, and the other (now nine) shareholders. the players asked about £ , , shakespeare's four shares being valued at £ , s. d., including the wardrobe and properties, estimated at £ . the poet's income at this time mr. collier estimates at £ a year. the blackfriars theatre was pulled down in cromwell's time ( ), and houses built in its room. randolph, the dramatist, a pupil of ben jonson's, ridicules, in _the muses' looking-glass_, that strange "morality" play of his, the puritan feather-sellers of blackfriars, whom ben jonson also taunts; randolph's pretty puritan, mrs. flowerdew, says of the ungodly of blackfriars:-- "indeed, it sometimes pricks my conscience, i come to sell 'em pins and looking-glasses." to which her friend, mr. bird, replies, with the sly sanctity of tartuffe:-- "i have this custom, too, for my feathers; 'tis fit that we, which are sincere professors, should gain by infidels." ben jonson, that smiter of all such hypocrites, wrote _volpone_ at his house in blackfriars, where he laid the scene of _the alchymist_. the friars were fashionable, however, in spite of the players, for vandyke lived in the precinct for nine years (he died in ); and the wicked earl and countess of somerset resided in the same locality when they poisoned their former favourite, sir thomas overbury. as late as , mr. peter cunningham says, there was an attempt to assert precinct privileges, but years before sheriffs had arrested in the friars. in blackfriars was the scene of a most fatal and extraordinary accident. it occurred in the chief house of the friary, then a district declining fast in respectability. hunsdon house derived its name from queen elizabeth's favourite cousin, the lord chamberlain, henry carey, baron hunsdon, and was at the time occupied by count de tillier, the french ambassador. about three o'clock on sunday, october th, a large roman catholic congregation of about three hundred persons, worshipping to a certain degree in stealth, not without fear from the puritan feather-makers of the theatrical neighbourhood, had assembled in a long garret on the third and uppermost storey. master drury, a jesuit prelate of celebrity, had drawn together this crowd of timid people. the garret, looking over the gateway, was approached by a passage having a door opening into the street, and also by a corridor from the ambassador's withdrawing-room. the garret was about seventeen feet wide and forty feet long, with a vestry for a priest partitioned off at one end. in the middle of the garret, and near the wall, stood a raised table and chair for the preacher. the gentry sat on chairs and stools facing the pulpit, the rest stood behind, crowding as far as the head of the stairs. at the appointed hour master drury, the priest, came from the inner room in white robe and scarlet stole, an attendant carrying a book and an hour-glass, by which to measure his sermon. he knelt down at the chair for about an ave maria, but uttered no audible prayer. he then took the jesuits' testament, and read for the text the gospel for the day, which was, according to the gregorian calendar, the twenty-first sunday after pentecost--"therefore is the kingdom of heaven like unto a man being a king that would make an account of his servants. and when he began to make account there was one presented unto him that owed him ten thousand talents." having read the text, the jesuit preacher sat down, and putting on his head a red quilt cap, with a white linen one beneath it, commenced his sermon. he had spoken for about half an hour when the calamity happened. the great weight of the crowd in the old room suddenly snapped the main summer beam of the floor, which instantly crashed in and fell into the room below. the main beams there also snapped and broke through to the ambassador's drawing-room over the gatehouse, a distance of twenty-two feet. only a part, however, of the gallery floor, immediately over father rudgate's chamber, a small room used for secret mass, gave way. the rest of the floor, being less crowded, stood firm, and the people on it, having no other means of escape, drew their knives and cut a way through a plaster wall into a neighbouring room. a contemporary pamphleteer, who visited the ruins and wrote fresh from the first outburst of sympathy, says: "what ear without tingling can bear the doleful and confused cries of such a troop of men, women, and children, all falling suddenly in the same pit, and apprehending with one horror the same ruin? what eye can behold without inundation of tears such a spectacle of men overwhelmed with breaches of mighty timber, buried in rubbish and smothered with dust? what heart without evaporating in sighs can ponder the burden of deepest sorrows and lamentations of parents, children, husbands, wives, kinsmen, friends, for their dearest pledges and chiefest comforts? this world all bereft and swept away with one blast of the same dismal tempest." the news of the accident fast echoing through london, serjeant finch, the recorder, and the lord mayor and aldermen at once provided for the safety of the ambassador's family, who were naturally shaking in their shoes, and shutting up the gates to keep off the curious and thievish crowd, set guards at all the blackfriars passages. workmen were employed to remove the _débris_ and rescue the sufferers who were still alive. the pamphleteer, again rousing himself to the occasion, and turning on his tears, says:--"at the opening hereof what a chaos! what fearful objects! what lamentable representations! here some buried, some dismembered, some only parts of men; here some wounded and weltering in their own and others' blood; others putting forth their fainting hands and crying out for help. here some gasping and panting for breath; others stifled for want of air. so the most of them being thus covered with dust, their death was a kind of burial." all that night and part of the next day the workmen spent in removing the bodies, and the inquest was then held. it was found that the main beams were only ten inches square, and had two mortise-holes, where the girders were inserted, facing each other, so that only three inches of solid timber were left. the main beam of the lower room, about thirteen inches square, without mortise-holes, broke obliquely near the end. no wall gave way, and the roof and ceiling of the garret remained entire. father drury perished, as did also father rudgate, who was in his own apartment, underneath. lady webb, of southwark, lady blackstone's daughter, from scroope's court, mr. fowell, a warwickshire gentleman, and many tradesmen, servants, and artisans--ninety-five in all--perished. some of the escapes seemed almost miraculous. mistress lucie penruddock fell between lady webb and a servant, who were both killed, yet was saved by her chair falling over her head. lady webb's daughter was found alive near her dead mother, and a girl named elizabeth sanders was also saved by the dead who fell and covered her. a protestant scholar, though one of the very undermost, escaped by the timbers arching over him and some of them slanting against the wall. he tore a way out through the laths of the ceiling by main strength, then crept between two joists to a hole where he saw light, and was drawn through a door by one of the ambassador's family. he at once returned to rescue others. there was a girl of ten who cried to him, "oh, my mother!--oh, my sister!--they are down under the timber." he told her to be patient, and by god's grace they would be quickly got forth. the child replied, "this will be a great scandal to our religion." one of the men that fell said to a fellow-sufferer, "oh, what advantage our adversaries will take at this!" the other replied, "if it be god's will this should befall us, what can we say to it?" one gentleman was saved by keeping near the stairs, while his friend, who had pushed near the pulpit, perished. many of those who were saved died in a few hours after their extrication. the bodies of lady webb, mistress udall, and lady blackstone's daughter, were carried to ely house, holborn, and there buried in the back courtyard. in the fore courtyard, by the french ambassador's house, a huge grave, eighteen feet long and twelve feet broad, was dug, and forty-four corpses piled within it. in another pit, twelve feet long and eight feet broad, in the ambassador's garden, they buried fifteen more. others were interred in st. andrew's, st. bride's, and blackfriars churches. the list of the killed and wounded is curious, from its topographical allusions. amongst other entries, we find "john halifax, a water-bearer" (in the old times of street conduits the water-bearer was an important person); "a son of mr. flood, the scrivener, in holborn; a man of sir ives pemberton; thomas brisket, his wife, son, and maid, in montague close; richard fitzgarret, of gray's inn, gentleman; davie, an irishman, in angell alley, gray's inn, gentleman; sarah watson, daughter of master watson, chirurgeon; master grimes, near the 'horse shoe' tavern, in drury lane; john bevan, at the 'seven stars', in drury lane; francis man, thieving lane, westminster," &c. as might have been expected, the fanatics of both parties had much to say about this terrible accident. the catholics declared that the protestants, knowing this to be a chief place of meeting for men of their faith, had secretly drawn out the pins, or sawn the supporting timbers partly asunder. the protestants, on the other hand, lustily declared that the planks would not bear such a weight of romish sin, and that god was displeased with their pulpits and altars, their doctrine and sacrifice. one zealot remembered that, at the return of prince charles from the madcap expedition to spain, a catholic had lamented, or was said to have lamented, the street bonfires, as there would be never a fagot left to burn the heretics. "if it had been a protestant chapel," the puritans cried, "the jesuits would have called the calamity an omen of the speedy downfall of heresy." a catholic writer replied "with a word of comfort," and pronounced the accident to be a presage of good fortune to catholics and of the overthrow of error and heresy. this zealous, but not well-informed, writer compared father drury's death with that of zuinglius, who fell in battle, and with that of calvin, "who, being in despair, and calling upon the devil, gave up his wicked soul, swearing, cursing, and blaspheming." so intolerance, we see, is neither specially protestant nor catholic, but of every party. "the fatal vespers," as that terrible day at blackfriars was afterwards called, were long remembered with a shudder by catholic england. in a curious old pamphlet entitled "something written by occasion of that fatall and memorable accident in the blacke-friers, on sonday, being the th october, , _stilo antiquo_, and the th november, _stilo novo_, or _romano_" the author relates a singular escape of one of the listeners. "when all things were ready," he says, "and the prayer finished, the jesuite tooke for his text the gospell of the day, being (as i take it) the nd sunday after trinity, and extracted out of the th of matthew, beginning at the st verse, to the end. the story concerns forgiveness of sinnes, and describeth the wicked cruelty of the unjust steward, whom his maister remitted, though he owed him , talents, but he would not forgive his fellow a pence, whereupon he was called to a new reckoning, and cast into prison, and then the particular words are, which he insisted upon, the th verse: 'so his master was wroth, and delivered him to the jaylor, till he should pay all that was due to him.' for the generall, he urged many good doctrines and cases; for the particular, he modelled out that fantasie of purgatory, which he followed with a full crie of pennance, satisfaction, paying of money, and such like. "while this exercise was in hand, a gentleman brought up his friend to see the place, and bee partaker of the sermon, who all the time he was going up stairs cried out, 'whither doe i goe? i protest my heart trembles;' and when he came into the roome, the priest being very loud, he whispered his friend in the eare that he was afraid, for, as he supposed, the room did shake under him; at which his friend, between smiling and anger, left him, and went close to the wall behind the preacher's chaire. the gentleman durst not stirre from the staires, and came not full two yards in the roome, when on a sudden there was a kinde of murmuring amongst the people, and some were heard to say, 'the roome shakes;' which words being taken up one of another, the whole company rose up with a strong suddainnesse, and some of the women screeched. i cannot compare it better than to many passengers in a boat in a tempest, who are commanded to sit still and let the waterman alone with managing the oares, but some unruly people rising overthrowes them all. so was this company served; for the people thus affrighted started up with extraordinary quicknesse, and at an instant the maine summer beame broke in sunder, being mortised in the wall some five foot from the same; and so the whole roofe or floore fell at once, with all the people that stood thronging on it, and with the violent impetuosity drove downe the nether roome quite to the ground, so that they fell twenty-four foot high, and were most of them buried and bruised betweene the rubbish and the timber; and though some were questionlesse smothered, yet for the most part they were hurt and bled, and being taken forth the next day, and laid all along in the gallery, presented to the lookers-on a wofull spectacle of fourscore and seventeen dead persons, besides eight or nine which perished since, unable to recover themselves." [illustration: richard burbage, from the original portrait in dulwich college (_see page _).] "they that kept themselves close to the walls, or remained by the windows, or held by the rafters, or settled themselves by the stayres, or were driven away by fear and suspition, sauved themselves without further hurt; but such as seemed more devoute, and thronged neere the preacher, perished in a moment with himselfe and other priests and jesuites; and this was the summe of that unhappy disaster." in earlier days blackfriars had been a locality much inhabited by fashionable people, especially about the time of queen elizabeth. pennant quotes from the _sydney papers_ a curious account of a grand festivity at the house of lord herbert, which the queen honoured by her attendance. the account is worth inserting, if only for the sake of a characteristic bit of temper which the queen exhibited on the occasion. "lord herbert, son of william, fourth earl of worcester," says pennant, "had a house in blackfriars, which queen elizabeth, in , honoured with her presence, on occasion of his nuptials with the daughter and heiress of john, lord russell, son of francis, earl of bedford. the queen was met at the waterside by the bride, and carried to her house in a _lectica_ by six knights. her majesty dined there, and supped in the same neighbourhood with lord cobham, where there was 'a memorable maske of eight ladies, and a strange dawnce new invented. their attire is this: each hath a skirt of cloth of silver, a mantell of coruscian taffete, cast under the arme, and their haire loose about their shoulders, curiously knotted and interlaced. mrs. fitton leade. these eight ladys maskers choose eight ladies more to dawnce the measures. mrs. fitton went to the queen and woed her dawnce. her majesty (the love of essex rankling in her heart) asked what she was? "_affection_," she said. "_affection!_" said the queen; "_affection_ is false"; yet her majestie rose up and dawnced. at this time the queen was sixty. surely, as mr. walpole observed, it was at that period as natural for her as to be in love! i must not forget that in her passage from the bride's to lord cobham's she went through the house of dr. puddin, and was presented by the doctor with a fan." [illustration: laying the foundation-stone of blackfriars bridge, , from a contemporary print (_see page _).] old blackfriars bridge, pulled down a few years since, was begun in , and first opened on sunday, november , . it was built from the design of robert mylne, a clever young scotch engineer, whose family had been master masons to the kings of scotland for five hundred years. mylne had just returned from a professional tour in italy, where he had followed in the footsteps of vitruvius, and gained the first prize at the academy of st. luke. he arrived in london friendless and unknown, and at once entered into competition with twenty other architects for the new bridge. among these rivals was smeaton, the great engineer (a _protégé_ of lord bute's), and dr. johnson's friend, gwynn, well known for his admirable work on london improvements. the committee were, however, just enough to be unanimous in favouring the young unknown scotchman, and he carried off the prize. directly it was known that mylne's arches were to be elliptical, every one unacquainted with the subject began to write in favour of the semi-circular arch. among the champions dr. johnson was, if not the most ignorant, the most rash. he wrote three letters to the printer of the _gazetteer_, praising gwynn's plans and denouncing the scotch conqueror. gwynn had "coached" the learned doctor in a very unsatisfactory way. in his early days the giant of bolt court had been accustomed to get up subjects rapidly, but the science of architecture was not so easily digested. the doctor contended "that the first excellence of a bridge built for commerce over a large river is strength." so far so good; but he then went on to try and show that the pointed arch is necessarily weak, and here he himself broke down. he allowed that there was an elliptical bridge at florence, but he said carts were not allowed to go over it, which proved its fragility. he also condemned a proposed cast-iron parapet, in imitation of one at rome, as too poor and trifling for a great design. he allowed that a certain arch of perault's was elliptical, but then he contended that it had to be held together by iron clamps. he allowed that mr. mylne had gained the prize at rome, but the competitors, the arrogant despot of london clubs asserted, were only boys; and, moreover, architecture had sunk so low at rome, that even the pantheon had been deformed by petty decorations. in his third letter the doctor grew more scientific, and even more confused. he was very angry with mr. mylne's friends for asserting that though a semi-ellipse might be weaker than a semicircle, it had quite strength enough to support a bridge. "i again venture to declare," he wrote--"i again venture to declare, in defiance of all this contemptuous superiority" (how arrogant men hate other people's arrogance!), "that a straight line will bear no weight. not even the science of vasari will make that form strong which the laws of nature have condemned to weakness. by the position that a straight line will bear nothing is meant that it receives no strength from straightness; for that many bodies laid in straight lines will support weight by the cohesion of their parts, every one has found who has seen dishes on a shelf, or a thief upon the gallows. it is not denied that stones may be so crushed together by enormous pressure on each side, that a heavy mass may be safely laid upon them; but the strength must be derived merely from the lateral resistance, and the line so loaded will be itself part of the load. the semi-elliptical arch has one recommendation yet unexamined. we are told that it is difficult of execution." in the face of this noisy newspaper thunder, mylne went on, and produced one of the most beautiful bridges in england for £ , s. d., actually £ less than the original estimate--an admirable example for all architects, present and to come. the bridge, which had eight arches, and was yards from wharf to wharf, was erected in ten years and three quarters. mylne received £ a year and ten per cent. on the expenditure. his claims, however, were disputed, and not allowed by the grateful city till . the bridge-tolls were bought by government in , and the passage then became free. it was afterwards lowered, and the open parapet, condemned by johnson, removed. it was supposed that mylne's mode of centreing was a secret, but in contempt of all quackery he deposited exact models of his system in the british museum. he was afterwards made surveyor of st. paul's cathedral, and in was interred near the tomb of wren. he was a despot amongst his workmen, and ruled them with a rod of iron. however, the foundations of this bridge were never safely built, and latterly the piers began visibly to subside. the semi-circular arches would have been far stronger. the foundation-stone of blackfriars bridge was laid by sir thomas chitty, lord mayor, on the st of october, . horace walpole, always whiggish, describing the event, says:--"the lord mayor laid the first stone of the new bridge yesterday. there is an inscription on it in honour of mr. pitt, which has a very roman air, though very unclassically expressed. they talk of the contagion of his public spirit; i believe they had not got rid of their panic about mad dogs." several gold, silver, and copper coins of the reign of george ii. (just dead) were placed under the stone, with a silver medal presented to mr. mylne by the academy of st. luke's, and upon two plates of tin--bonnel thornton said they should have been lead--was engraved a very shaky latin inscription, thus rendered into english:-- on the last day of october, in the year , and in the beginning of the most auspicious reign of george the third, sir thomas chitty, knight, lord mayor, laid the first stone of this bridge, undertaken by the common council of london (amidst the rage of an extensive war) for the public accommodation and ornament of the city; robert mylne being the architect. and that there might remain to posterity a monument of this city's affection to the man who, by the strength of his genius, the steadiness of his mind, and a certain kind of happy contagion of his probity and spirit (under the divine favour and fortunate auspices of george the second) recovered, augmented, and secured the british empire in asia, africa, and america, and restored the ancient reputation and influence of his country amongst the nations of europe; the citizens of london have unanimously voted this bridge to be inscribed with the name of william pitt. on this pretentious and unlucky inscription, that reckless wit, bonnel thornton, instantly wrote a squib, under the obvious pseudonym of the "rev. busby birch." in these critical and political remarks (which he entitled "city latin") the gay scoffer professed in his preface to prove "almost every word and every letter to be erroneous and contrary to the practice of both ancients and moderns in this kind of writing," and appended a plan or pattern for a new inscription. the clever little lampoon soon ran to three editions. the ordinary of newgate, my lord's chaplain, or the masters of merchant taylors', paul's, or charterhouse schools, who produced the wonderful pontine inscription, must have winced under the blows of this jester's bladderful of peas. thornton laughed most at the awkward phrase implying that mr. pitt had caught the happy contagion of his own probity and spirit. he said that "gulielmi pitt" should have been "gulielmi fossæ." lastly, he proposed, for a more curt and suitable inscription, the simple words-- "guil. fossÆ, patri patriæ d.d.d. (_i.e._, datur, dicatur, dedicatur)." party feeling, as usual at those times, was rife. mylne was a friend of paterson, the city solicitor, an apt scribbler and a friend of lord bute, who no doubt favoured his young countryman. for, being a scotchman, johnson no doubt took pleasure in opposing him, and for the same reason churchill, in his bitter poem on the cock lane ghost, after ridiculing johnson's credulity, goes out of his way to sneer at mylne:-- "what of that bridge which, void of sense, but well supplied with impudence, englishmen, knowing not the guild, thought they might have the claim to build; till paterson, as white as milk, as smooth as oil, as soft as silk, in solemn manner had decreed that, on the other side the tweed, art, born and bred and fully grown, was with one mylne, a man unknown? but grace, preferment, and renown deserving, just arrived in town; one mylne, an artist, perfect quite, both in his own and country's right, as fit to make a bridge as he, with glorious patavinity, to build inscriptions, worthy found to lie for ever underground." in it was opened for foot passengers, the completed portion being connected with the shore by a temporary wooden structure; two years later it was made passable for horses, and in it was fully opened. an unpopular toll of one halfpenny on week-days for every person, and of one penny on sundays, was exacted. the result of this was that while the gordon riots were raging, in , the too zealous protestants, forgetting for a time the poor tormented papists, attacked and burned down the toll-gates, stole the money, and destroyed all the account-books. several rascals' lives were lost, and one rioter, being struck with a bullet, ran howling for thirty or forty yards, and then dropped down dead. nevertheless, the iniquitous toll continued until , when it was redeemed by government. the bridge, according to the order of common council, was first named pitt bridge, and the adjacent streets (in honour of the great earl) chatham place, william street, and earl street. but the first name of the bridge soon dropped off, and the monastic locality asserted its prior right. this is the more remarkable (as mr. timbs judiciously observes), because with another thames bridge the reverse change took place. waterloo bridge was first called strand bridge, but it was soon dedicated by the people to the memory of the most famous of british victories. the £ , that the bridge cost does not include the £ , spent in altering and filling up the fleet ditch, or the £ , the cost of the temporary wooden bridge. the piers, of bad portland stone, were decorated by some columns of unequal sizes, and the line of parapet was low and curved. the approaches to the bridge were also designed by mylne, who built himself a house at the corner of little bridge street. the walls of the rooms were adorned with classical medallions, and on the exterior was the date ( ), with mylne's crest, and the initials "r.m." dr. johnson became a friend of mylne's, and dined with him at this residence at least on one occasion. the house afterwards became the "york hotel," and, according to mr. timbs, was taken down in . the bridge repairs (between and ), by walker and burgess, engineers, at an expense of £ , , produced a loss to the contractors; and the removal of the cornice and balustrade spoiled the bridge, from whence old richard wilson, the landscape-painter, used to come and admire the grand view of st. paul's. the bridge seemed to be as unlucky as if it had incurred dr. johnson's curse. in the chamberlain reported to the common council that the sum of £ , had been already expended in repairing mylne's faulty work, besides the £ spent in procuring a local act ( william iv.). according to a subsequent report, £ , had been spent in six years in repairing one arch alone. from to the expenditure had been at the rate of £ a year. boswell, indeed, with all his zealous partiality for the scotch architect, had allowed that the best portland stone belonged to government quarries, and from this parliamentary interest had debarred mylne. the tardy common council was at last forced, in common decency, to build a new bridge. the architect began by building a temporary structure of great strength. it consisted of two storeys--the lower for carriages, the upper for pedestrians--and stretching feet from wharf to wharf. the lower piles were driven ten feet into the bed of the river, and braced with horizontal and diagonal bracings. the demolition began with vigour in . in four months only, the navigators' brawny arms had removed twenty thousand tons of earth, stone, and rubble above the turning of the arches, and the pulling down those enemies of dr. johnson commenced by the removal of the keystone of the second arch on the surrey side. the masonry of the arches proved to be rather thinner than it appeared to be, and was stuffed with river ballast, mixed with bones and small old-fashioned pipes. the bridge had taken nearly ten years to build; it was entirely demolished in less than a year, and rebuilt in two. in some cases the work of removal and re-construction went on harmoniously and simultaneously side by side. ingenious steam cranes travelled upon rails laid on the upper scaffold beams, and lifted the blocks of stone with playful ease and speed. in december, , the men worked in the evenings, by the aid of naphtha lamps. according to a report printed in the _times_, blackfriars bridge had suffered from the removal of london bridge, which served as a mill-dam, to restrain the speed and scour of the river. twelve designs had been sent in at the competition, and, singularly enough, among the competitors was a mr. mylne, grandson of johnson's foe. the design of mr. page was first selected, as the handsomest and cheapest. it consisted of only three arches. ultimately mr. joseph cubitt won the prize. cubitt's bridge has five arches, the centre one eighty-nine feet span; the style, venetian gothic; the cost, £ , . the piers are grey, the columns red, granite; the bases and capitals are of carved portland stone; the bases, balustrades, and roads of somewhat over-ornamented iron. the _quarterly review_, of april, , contains the following bitter criticisms of the new double bridge:--"with blackfriars bridge," says the writer, "we find the public thoroughly well pleased, though the design is really a wonder of depravity. polished granite columns of amazing thickness, with carved capitals of stupendous weight, all made to give shop-room for an apple-woman, or a convenient platform for a suicide. the parapet is a fiddle-faddle of pretty cast-iron arcading, out of scale with the columns, incongruous with the capitals, and quite unsuited for a work that should be simply grand in its usefulness; and at each corner of the bridge is a huge block of masonry, _àpropos_ of nothing, a well-known evidence of desperate imbecility." bridge street is too new for many traditions. its chief hero is that active-minded and somewhat shallow speculator, sir richard phillips, the bookseller and projector. an interesting memoir by mr. timbs, his intimate friend, furnishes us with many curious facts, and shows how the publisher of bridge street impinged on many of the most illustrious of his contemporaries, and how in a way he pushed forward the good work which afterwards owed so much to mr. charles knight. phillips, born in london in , was educated in soho square, and afterwards at chiswick, where he remembered often seeing hogarth's widow and dr. griffith, of the _monthly review_ (goldsmith's tyrant), attending church. he was brought up to be a brewer, but in settled as a schoolmaster, first at chester and afterwards at leicester. at leicester he opened a bookseller's shop, started a newspaper (the _leicester herald_), and established a philosophical society. obnoxious as a radical, he was at last entrapped for selling tom paine's "rights of man," and was sent to gaol for eighteen months, where he was visited by lord moira, the duke of norfolk, and other advanced men of the day. his house being burned down, he removed to london, and projected a sunday newspaper, but eventually mr. bell stole the idea and started the _messenger_. in this restless and energetic man commenced the _monthly magazine_. before this he had already been a hosier, a tutor, and a speculator in canals. the politico-literary magazine was advertised by circulars sent to eminent men of the opposition in commercial parcels, to save the enormous postage of those unregenerate days. dr. aiken, the literary editor, afterwards started a rival magazine, called the _athenæum_. the _gentleman's magazine_ never rose to a circulation above , , which soon sank to , . phillips's magazine sold about , . with all these multifarious pursuits, phillips was an antiquary--purchasing wolsey's skull for a shilling, a portion of his stone coffin, that had been turned into a horse-trough at the "white horse" inn, leicester; and rufus's stirrup, from a descendant of the charcoal-burner who drove the body of the slain king to winchester. as a pushing publisher phillips soon distinguished himself, for the liberals came to him, and he had quite enough sense to discover if a book was good. he produced many capital volumes of ana, on the french system, and memoirs of foote, monk, lewes, wilkes, and lady mary wortley montagu. he published holcroft's "travels," godwin's best novels, and miss owenson's (lady morgan's) first work, "the novice of st. dominick." in , when he removed to new bridge street, he served the office of sheriff; was knighted on presenting an address, and effected many reforms in the prisons and lock-up houses. in his useful "letter to the livery of london" he computes the number of writs then annually issued at , ; the sheriffs' expenses at £ , . he also did his best to repress the cruelties of the mob to poor wretches in the pillory. he was a steady friend of alderman waithman, and was with him in the carriage at the funeral of queen caroline, in , when a bullet from a soldier's carbine passed through the carriage window near hyde park. in phillips had some reverses, and breaking up his publishing-office in bridge street, devoted himself to the profitable reform of school-books, publishing them under the names of goldsmith, mavor, and blair. this active-minded man was the first to assert that dr. wilmot wrote "junius," and to start the celebrated scandal about george iii. and the young quakeress, hannah lightfoot, daughter of a linendraper, at the corner of market street, st. james's. she afterwards, it is said, married a grocer, named axford, on ludgate hill, was then carried off by the prince, and bore him three sons, who in time became generals. the story is perhaps traceable to dr. wilmot, whose daughter married the duke of cumberland. phillips found time to attack the newtonian theory of gravitation, to advocate a memorial to shakespeare, to compile a book containing a million of facts, to write on divine philosophy, and to suggest (as he asserted) to mr. brougham, in , the first idea of the society for useful knowledge. almost ruined by the failures during the panic in , he retired to brighton, and there pushed forward his books and his interrogative system of education. sir richard's greatest mistakes, he used to say, had been the rejection of byron's early poems, of "waverley," of bloomfield's "farmer's boy," and o'meara's "napoleon in exile." he always stoutly maintained his claim to the suggestion of the "percy anecdotes." phillips died in . superficial as he was, and commercial as were his literary aims, we nevertheless cannot refuse him the praise awarded in his epitaph:--"he advocated civil liberty, general benevolence, ascendancy of justice, and the improvement of the human race." the old monastic ground of the black friars seems to have been beloved by painters, for, as we have seen, vandyke lived luxuriously here, and was frequently visited by charles i. and his court. cornelius jansen, the great portrait-painter of james's court, arranged his black draperies and ground his fine carnations in the same locality; and at the same time isaac oliver, the exquisite court miniature-painter, dwelt in the same place. it was to him lady ayres, to the rage of her jealous husband, came for a portrait of lord herbert of cherbury, an imprudence that very nearly led to the assassination of the poet-lord, who believed himself so specially favoured of heaven. the king's printing-office for proclamations, &c., used to be in printing-house square, but was removed in ; and we must not forget that where a norman fortress once rose to oppress the weak, to guard the spoils of robbers, and to protect the oppressor, the _times_ printing-office now stands, to diffuse its ceaseless floods of knowledge, to spread its resistless ægis over the poor and the oppressed, and ever to use its vast power to extend liberty and crush injustice, whatever shape the proteus assumes, whether it sits upon a throne or lurks in a swindler's office. [illustration: printing house square and the "times" office (_see page _).] this great paper was started in the year , by mr. john walter, under the name of the _daily universal register_. it was first called the _times_, january , , when the following prospectus appeared:-- "the _universal register_ has been a name as injurious to the logographic newspaper as tristram was to mr. shandy's son; but old shandy forgot he might have rectified by confirmation the mistake of the parson at baptism, and with the touch of a bishop changed tristram into trismegistus. the _universal register_, from the day of its first appearance to the day of its confirmation, had, like tristram, suffered from innumerable casualties, both laughable and serious, arising from its name, which in its introduction was immediately curtailed of its fair proportions by all who called for it, the word 'universal' being universally omitted, and the word 'register' only retained. 'boy, bring me the _register_.' the waiter answers, 'sir, we have no library; but you may see it in the "new exchange" coffee-house.' 'then i will see it there,' answers the disappointed politician; and he goes to the 'new exchange' coffee-house, and calls for the _register_, upon which the waiter tells him he cannot have it, as he is not a subscriber, or presents him with the _court and city register_, the _old annual register_, or the _new annual register_, or, if the house be within the purlieus of covent garden or the hundreds of drury, slips into the politician's hand _harris's register of ladies_. "for these and other reasons the printer of the _universal register_ has added to its original name that of the _times_, which, being a monosyllable, bids defiance to the corruptions and mutilations of the language. [illustration: blackfriars old bridge during its construction, showing the temporary foot bridge, from a print of (_see page _).] "the _times!_ what a monstrous name! granted--for the times is a many-headed monster, that speaks with a hundred tongues, and displays a thousand characters; and in the course of its transitions in life, assumes innumerable shapes and humours. "the critical reader will observe, we personify our new name; but as we give it no distinction of sex, and though it will be active in its vocation, yet we apply to it the neuter gender. "the _times_, being formed of and possessing qualities of opposite and heterogeneous natures, cannot be classed either in the animal or vegetable genus, but, like the polypus, is doubtful; and in the discussion, description, and illustration, will employ the pens of the most celebrated _literati_. "the heads of the _times_, as has already been said, are many; these will, however, not always appear at the same time, but casually, as public or private affairs may call them forth. "the principal or leading heads are--the literary, political, commercial, philosophical, critical, theatrical, fashionable, humorous, witty, &c., each of which is supplied with a competent share of intellect for the pursuit of their several functions, an endowment which is not in all cases to be found, even in the heads of the state, the heads of the church, the heads of the law, the heads of the navy, the heads of the army, and, though last not least, the great heads of the universities. "the political head of the _times_--like that of janus, the roman deity--is double-faced. with one countenance it will smile continually on the friends of old england, and with the other will frown incessantly on her enemies. "the alteration we have made in our paper is not without precedents. the _world_ has parted with half its _caput mortuum_ and a moiety of its brains; the _herald_ has cutoff one half of its head and has lost its original humour; the _post_, it is true, retains its whole head and its old features; and as to the other public prints, they appear as having neither heads nor tails. "on the parliamentary head, every communication that ability and industry can produce may be expected. to this great national object the _times_ will be most sedulously attentive, most accurately correct, and strictly impartial in its reports." both the _times_ and its predecessor were printed "logographically," mr. walter having obtained a patent for his peculiar system. the plan consisted in abridging the compositors' labour by casting all the more frequently recurring words in metal. it was, in fact, a system of partial stereotyping. the english language, said the sanguine inventor, contained above , words. this number walter had reduced to about , . the projector was assailed by the wits, who declared that his orders to the typefounders ran,--"send me a hundredweight, in separate pounds, of _heat_, _cold_, _wet_, _dry_, _murder_, _fire_, _dreadful robbery_, _atrocious outrage_, _fearful calamity_, and _alarming explosion_." but nothing could daunt or stop walter. one eccentricity of the _daily register_ was that on red-letter days the title was printed in red ink, and the character of the day stated under the date-line. for instance, on friday, august , , there is a red heading, and underneath the words-- "princess of brunswick born. holiday at the bank, excise offices, and the exchequer." the first number of the _times_ is not so large as the _morning herald_ or _morning chronicle_ of the same date, but larger than the _london chronicle_, and of the same size as the _public advertiser_. (knight hunt.) the first walter lived in rough times, and suffered from the political storms that then prevailed. he was several times imprisoned for articles against great people, and it has been asserted that he stood in the pillory in for a libel against the duke of york. this is not, however, true; but it is a fact that he was sentenced to such a punishment, and remained sixteen months in newgate, till released at the intercession of the prince of wales. the first walter died in . the second mr. walter, who came to the helm in , was the real founder of the future greatness of the _times_; and he, too, had his rubs. in he offended the government by denouncing the foolish catamaran expedition. for this the government meanly deprived his family of the printing for the customs, and also withdrew their advertisements. during the war of the government stopped all the foreign papers sent to the _times_. walter, stopped by no obstacle, at once contrived other means to secure early news, and had the triumph of announcing the capitulation of flushing forty-eight hours before the intelligence had arrived through any other channel. there were no reviews of books in the _times_ till long after it was started, but it paid great attention to the drama from its commencement. there were no leading articles for several years, yet in the very first year the _times_ displays threefold as many advertisements as its contemporaries. for many years mr. walter, with his usual sagacity and energy, endeavoured to mature some plan for printing the _times_ by steam. as early as a compositor named martyn had invented a machine for the purpose of superseding the hand-press, which took hours struggling over the three or four thousand copies of the _times_. the pressmen threatened destruction to the new machine, and it had to be smuggled piecemeal into the premises, while martyn sheltered himself under various disguises to escape the vengeance of the workmen. on the eve of success, however, walter's father lost courage, stopped the supplies, and the project was for the time abandoned. in walter, however, returned to the charge. koenig and barnes put their machinery in premises adjoining the _times_ office, to avoid the violence of the pressmen. at one time the two inventors are said to have abandoned their machinery in despair, but a clerical friend of walter examined the difficulty and removed it. the night came at last when the great experiment was to be made. the unconscious pressmen were kept waiting in the next office for news from the continent. at six o'clock in the morning mr. walter entered the press-room, with a wet paper in his hand, and astonished the men by telling them that the _times_ had just been printed by steam. if they attempted violence, he said, there was a force ready to suppress it; but if they were peaceable their wages should be continued until employment was found for them. he could now print , sheets an hour. by-and-by koenig's machine proved too complicated, and messrs. applegarth and cowper invented a cylindrical one, that printed , an hour. then came hoe's process, which is now said to print at the rate of from , to , copies an hour (grant). the various improvements in steam-printing have altogether cost the _times_, according to general report, not less than £ , . about dr. stoddart, the brother-in-law of hazlitt (afterwards sir john stoddart, a judge in malta), edited the _times_ with ability, till his almost insane hatred of bonaparte, "the corsican fiend," as he called him, led to his secession in or . stoddart was the "doctor slop" whom tom moore derided in his gay little whig lampoons. the next editor was thomas barnes, a better scholar and a far abler man. he had been a contemporary of lamb at christ's hospital, and a rival of blomfield, afterwards bishop of london. while a student in the temple he wrote the _times_ a series of political letters in the manner of "junius," and was at once placed as a reporter in the gallery of the house. under his editorship walter secured some of his ablest contributors, including that captain stirling, "the thunderer," whom carlyle has sketched so happily. stirling was an irishman, who had fought with the royal troops at vinegar hill, then joined the line, and afterwards turned gentleman farmer in the isle of bute. he began writing for the _times_ about , and, it is said, eventually received £ , a year as a writer of dashing and effective leaders. lord brougham also, it is said, wrote occasional articles. tom moore was even offered £ a month if he would contribute, and southey declined an offer of £ , a year for editing the _times_. macaulay in his day wrote many brilliant squibs in the _times_; amongst them one containing the line: "ye diners out, from whom we guard our spoons," and another on the subject of wat banks's candidateship for cambridge. barnes died in . horace twiss, the biographer of lord eldon and nephew of mrs. siddons, also helped the _times_ forward by his admirable parliamentary summaries, the first the _times_ had attempted. this able man died suddenly in , while speaking at a meeting of the rock assurance society at radley's hotel, bridge street. one of the longest wars the _times_ ever carried on was that against alderman harmer. it was harmer's turn, in due order of rotation, to become lord mayor. a strong feeling had arisen against harmer because, as the avowed proprietor of the _weekly dispatch_, he inserted certain letters of the late mr. williams ("publicola"), which were said to have had the effect of preventing mr. walter's return for southwark (see page ). the _times_ upon this wrote twelve powerful leaders against harmer, which at once decided the question. this was a great assertion of power, and raised the _times_ in the estimation of all england. for these twelve articles, originally intended for letters, the writer (says mr. grant) received £ . but in the extraordinary social influence of this giant paper was even still more shown. mr. o'reilly, their paris correspondent, obtained a clue to a vast scheme of fraud concocting in paris by a gang of fourteen accomplished swindlers, who had already netted £ , of the million for which they had planned. at the risk of assassination, o'reilly exposed the scheme in the _times_, dating the _exposé_ brussels, in order to throw the swindlers on the wrong scent. at a public meeting of merchants, bankers, and others held in the egyptian hall, mansion house, october , , the lord mayor (thomas johnson) in the chair, it was unanimously resolved to thank the proprietors of the _times_ for the services they had rendered in having exposed the most remarkable and extensively fraudulent conspiracy (the famous "bogle" swindle) ever brought to light in the mercantile world, and to record in some substantial manner the sense of obligation conferred by the proprietors of the _times_ on the commercial world. the proprietors of the _times_ declining to receive the £ , subscribed by the london merchants to recompense them for doing their duty, it was resolved, in , to set apart the funds for the endowment of two scholarships, one at christ's hospital, and one at the city of london school. in both schools a commemorative tablet was put up, as well as one at the royal exchange and the _times_ printing-office. at various periods the _times_ has had to endure violent attacks in the house of commons, and many strenuous efforts to restrain its vast powers. in john payne collier, one of their parliamentary reporters, and better known as one of the greatest of shakesperian critics, was committed into the custody of the serjeant-at-arms for a report in which he had attacked canning. the _times_, however, had some powerful friends in the house; and in we find mr. hume complaining that the government advertisements were systematically withheld from the _times_. in sir r.h. inglis complained that the _times_ had been guilty of a breach of privilege, in asserting that there were borough nominees and lackeys in the house. sir charles wetherell, that titled, incomparable old tory, joined in the attack, which burdett chivalrously cantered forward to repel. sir henry hardinge wanted the paper prosecuted, but lord john russell, orator hunt, and o'connell, however, moved the previous question, and the great debate on the reform bill then proceeded. the same year the house of lords flew at the great paper. the earl of limerick had been called "an absentee, and a thing with human pretensions." the marquis of londonderry joined in the attack. the next day mr. lawson, printer of the _times_, was examined and worried by the house; and lord wynford moved that mr. lawson, as printer of a scandalous libel, should be fined £ , and committed to newgate till the fine be paid. the next day mr. lawson handed in an apology, but lord brougham generously rose and denied the power of the house to imprison and fine without a trial by jury. the tory lords spoke angrily; the earl of limerick called the press a tyrant that ruled all things, and crushed everything under its feet; and the marquis of londonderry complained of the coarse and virulent libels against queen adelaide, for her supposed opposition to reform. in o'connell attributed dishonest motives to the london reporter who had suppressed his speeches, and the reporters in the _times_ expressed their resolution not to report any more of his speeches unless he retracted. o'connell then moved in the house that the printer of the _times_ be summoned to the bar for printing their resolution, but his motion was rejected. in mr. lawson was fined £ for accusing sir john conroy, treasurer of the household of the duchess of kent, of peculation. in an angry member brought a breach of privilege motion against the _times_, and advised every one who was attacked in that paper to horsewhip the editor. in january, , the _times_ came out with a double sheet, consisting of eight pages, or forty-eight columns. in it paid £ , advertisement duty. in its sale had been below that of the _morning chronicle_, _post_, _herald_, and _advertiser_. the _times_, according to mr. grant, in one day of , received no less than £ , for advertisements. on june , , it produced a paper containing no less than twenty-four pages, or columns. in the _times_ had a circulation of , copies; in , , . for special numbers its sale is enormous. the biography of prince albert sold , copies; the marriage of the prince of wales, , copies. the income of the _times_ from advertisements alone has been calculated at £ , . a writer in a philadelphia paper of estimates the paper consumed weekly by the _times_ at seventy tons; the ink at two tons. there are employed in the office ten stereotypers, sixteen firemen and engineers, ninety machine-men, six men who prepare the paper for printing, and seven to transfer the papers to the news-agents. the new walter press prints , to , impressions an hour, or , perfect sheets printed on both sides. it prints from a roll of paper three-quarters of a mile long, and cuts the sheets and piles them without help. it is a self-feeder, and requires only a man and two boys to guide its operations. a copy of the _times_ has been known to contain , advertisements; and for every daily copy it is computed that the compositors mass together not less than , , separate types. the number of persons engaged in daily working for the _times_ is put at nearly . in the annals of this paper we must not forget the energy that, in , established a system of home expresses, that enabled them to give the earliest intelligence before any other paper; and at an expense of £ brought a report of lord durham's speech at glasgow to london at the then unprecedented rate of fifteen miles an hour; nor should we forget their noble disinterestedness during the railway mania of , when, although they were receiving more than £ , a week for railway advertisements, they warned the country unceasingly of the misery and ruin that must inevitably follow. the _times_ proprietors are known to pay the highest sums for articles, and to be uniformly generous in pensioning men who have spent their lives in its service. the late mr. walter, even when m.p. for berkshire and nottingham, never forgot printing-house square when the debate, however late, had closed. one afternoon, says mr. grant, he came to the office and found the compositors gone to dinner. just at that moment a parcel, marked "immediate and important," arrived. it was news of vast importance. he at once slipped off his coat, and set up the news with his own hands; a pressman was at his post, and by the time the men returned a second edition was actually printed and published. but his foresight and energy was most conspicuously shown in , when the jealousy of the french government had thrown obstacles in the way of the _times'_ couriers, who brought their indian despatches from marseilles. what were seas and deserts to walter? he at once took counsel with lieutenant waghorn, who had opened up the overland route to india, and proposed to try a new route by trieste. the result was that waghorn reached london two days before the regular mail--the usual mail aided by the french government. the _morning herald_ was at first forty-eight hours before the _times_, but after that the _times_ got a fortnight ahead; and although the trieste route was abandoned, the _times_, eventually, was left alone as a troublesome and invincible adversary. apothecaries' hall, the grave stone and brick building, in water lane, blackfriars, was erected in (charles ii.), as the dispensary and hall of the company of apothecaries, incorporated by a charter of james i., at the suit of gideon delaune, the king's own apothecary. drugs in the middle ages were sold by grocers and pepperers, or by the doctors themselves, who, early in james's reign, formed one company with the apothecaries; but the ill-assorted union lasted only eleven years, for the apothecaries were then fast becoming doctors themselves. garth, in his "dispensary," describes, in the hogarthian manner, the topographical position of apothecaries' hall:-- "nigh where fleet ditch descends in sable streams, to wash the sooty naiads in the thames, there stands a structure on a rising hill, where tyros take their freedom out to kill." gradually the apothecaries, refusing to be merely "the doctors' tools," began to encroach more and more on the doctors' province, and to prescribe for and even cure the poor. in (james ii.) open war broke out. first dryden, then pope, fought on the side of the doctors against the humbler men, whom they were taught to consider as mere greedy mechanics and empirics. dryden first let fly his mighty shaft:-- "the apothecary tribe is wholly blind; from files a random recipe they take, and many deaths from one prescription make. garth, generous as his muse, prescribes and gives; the shopman sells, and by destruction lives." pope followed with a smaller but keener arrow:-- "so modern 'pothecaries, taught the art by doctors' bills to play the doctor's part, bold in the practice of mistaken rules, prescribe, apply, and call their masters fools." the origin of the memorable affray between the college of physicians and the company of apothecaries is admirably told by mr. jeaffreson, in his "book of doctors." the younger physicians, impatient at beholding the increasing prosperity and influence of the apothecaries, and the older ones indignant at seeing a class of men they had despised creeping into their quarters, and craftily laying hold of a portion of their monopoly, concocted a scheme to reinstate themselves in public favour. without a doubt, many of the physicians who countenanced this scheme gave it their support from purely charitable motives; but it cannot be questioned that, as a body, the dispensarians were only actuated in their humanitarian exertions by a desire to lower the apothecaries and raise themselves in the eyes of the world. in the physicians, at a college meeting, voted "that all members of the college, whether fellows, candidates, or licentiates, should give their advice gratis to all their sick neighbouring poor, when desired, within the city of london, or seven miles round." the poor folk carried their prescriptions to the apothecaries, to learn that the trade charge for dispensing them was beyond their means. the physicians asserted that the demands of the drug-vendors were extortionate, and were not reduced to meet the finances of the applicants, to the end that the undertakings of benevolence might prove abortive. this was, of course, absurd. the apothecaries knew their own interests better than to oppose a system which at least rendered drug-consuming fashionable with the lower orders. perhaps they regarded the poor as their peculiar property as a field of practice, and felt insulted at having the same humble people for whom they had pompously prescribed, and put up boluses at twopence apiece, now entering their shops with papers dictating what the twopenny bolus was to be composed of. but the charge preferred against them was groundless. indeed, a numerous body of the apothecaries expressly offered to sell medicines "to the poor within their respective parishes at such rates as the committee of physicians should think reasonable." [illustration: the college of physicians, warwick lane (_see page _).] but this would not suit the game of the physicians. "a proposal was started by a committee of the college that the college should furnish the medicines of the poor, and perfect alone that charity which the apothecaries refused to concur in; and, after divers methods ineffectually tried, and much time wasted in endeavouring to bring the apothecaries to terms of reason in relation to the poor, an instrument was subscribed by divers charitably-disposed members of the college, now in numbers about fifty, wherein they obliged themselves to pay ten pounds apiece towards the preparing and delivering medicines at their intrinsic value." such was the version of the affair given by the college apologists. the plan was acted upon, and a dispensary was eventually established (some nine years after the vote of ) at the college of physicians, warwick lane, where medicines were vended to the poor at cost price. this measure of the college was impolitic and unjustifiable. it was unjust to that important division of the trade who were ready to vend the medicines at rates to be paid by the college authorities, for it took altogether out of their hands the small amount of profit which they, as _dealers_, could have realised on those terms. it was also an eminently unwise course. the college sank to the level of the apothecaries' hall, becoming an emporium for the sale of medicines. it was all very well to say that no profit was made on such sale, the censorious world would not believe it. the apothecaries and their friends denied that such was the fact, and vowed that the benevolent dispensarians were bent only on underselling and ruining them. [illustration: outer court of la belle sauvage in , from an original drawing in mr. gardner's collection (_see page _).] again, the movement introduced dissensions within the walls of the college. many of the first physicians, with the conservatism of success, did not care to offend the apothecaries, who were continually calling them in and paying them fees. they therefore joined in the cry against the dispensary. the profession was split up into two parties--dispensarians and anti-dispensarians. the apothecaries combined, and agreed not to recommend the dispensarians. the anti-dispensarians repaid this ill service by refusing to meet dispensarians in consultation. sir thomas millington, the president of the college, hans sloane, john woodward, sir edmund king, and sir samuel garth, were amongst the latter. of these the last named was the man who rendered the most efficient service to his party. for a time garth's great poem, "the dispensary," covered the apothecaries and anti-dispensarians with ridicule. it rapidly passed through numerous editions. to say that of all the books, pamphlets, and broadsheets thrown out by the combatants on both sides, it is by far the one of the greatest merit, would be scant justice, when it might almost be said that it is the only one of them that can now be read by a gentleman without a sense of annoyance and disgust. there is no point of view from which the medical profession appears in a more humiliating and contemptible light than that which the literature of this memorable squabble presents to the student. charges of ignorance, dishonesty, and extortion were preferred on both sides. and the dispensarian physicians did not hesitate to taunt their brethren of the opposite camp with playing corruptly into the hands of the apothecaries--prescribing enormous and unnecessary quantities of medicine, so that the drug-vendors might make heavy bills, and, as a consequence, recommend in all directions such complacent superiors to be called in. garth's, unfair and violent though it is, nowhere offends against decency. as a work of art it cannot be ranked high, and is now deservedly forgotten, although it has many good lines and some felicitous satire. garth lived to see the apothecaries gradually emancipate themselves from the ignominious regulations to which they consented when their vocation was first separated from the grocery trade. four years after his death they obtained legal acknowledgment of their right to dispense and sell medicines without the prescription of a physician; and six years later the law again decided in their favour with regard to the physicians' right of examining and condemning their drugs. in , mr. rose, an apothecary, on being prosecuted by the college for prescribing as well as compounding medicines, carried the matter into the house of lords, and obtained a favourable decision; and from , in which year mr. goodwin, an apothecary, obtained in a court of law a considerable sum for an illegal seizure of his wares (by drs. arbuthnot, bale, and levit), the physicians may be said to have discontinued to exercise their privileges of inspection. in his elaborate poem garth cruelly caricatures the apothecaries of his day:-- "long has he been of that amphibious fry, bold to prescribe, and busy to apply; his shop the gazing vulgar's eyes employs, with foreign trinkets and domestic toys. here mummies lay, most reverently stale, and there the tortoise hung her coat of mail; not far from some huge shark's devouring head the flying-fish their finny pinions spread. aloft in rows large poppy-heads were strung, and near, a scaly alligator hung. in this place drugs in musty heaps decay'd, in that dried bladders and false teeth were laid. "an inner room receives the num'rous shoals of such as pay to be reputed fools; globes stand by globes, volumes on volumes lie, and planetary schemes amuse the eye. the sage in velvet chair here lolls at ease, to promise future health for present fees; then, as from tripod, solemn shams reveals, and what the stars know nothing of foretells. our manufactures now they merely sell, and their true value treacherously tell; nay, they discover, too, their spite is such, that health, than crowns more valued, cost not much; whilst we must steer our conduct by these rules, to cheat as tradesmen, or to starve as fools." before finally leaving blackfriars, let us gather up a few reminiscences of the king's and queen's printers who here first worked their inky presses. queen anne, by patent in , constituted benjamin tooke, of fleet street, and john barber (afterwards alderman barber), queen's printers for thirty years. this barber, a high tory and suspected jacobite, was swift's printer and warm friend. a remarkable story is told of barber's dexterity in his profession. being threatened with a prosecution by the house of lords, for an offensive paragraph in a pamphlet which he had printed, and being warned of his danger by lord bolingbroke, he called in all the copies from the publishers, cancelled the leaf which contained the obnoxious passage, and returned them to the booksellers with a new paragraph supplied by lord bolingbroke; so that when the pamphlet was produced before the house, and the passage referred to, it was found unexceptionable. he added greatly to his wealth by the south sea scheme, which he had prudence enough to secure in time, and purchased an estate at east sheen with part of his gain. in principles he was a jacobite; and in his travels to italy, whither he went for the recovery of his health, he was introduced to the pretender, which exposed him to some danger on his return to england; for, immediately on his arrival, he was taken into custody by a king's messenger, but was released without punishment. after his success in the south sea scheme, he was elected alderman of castle baynard ward, ; sheriff, ; and, in - , lord mayor of london. john baskett subsequently purchased both shares of the patent, but his printing-offices in blackfriars (now printing house square) were soon afterwards destroyed by fire. in george ii. granted a fresh patent to baskett for sixty years, with the privilege of supplying parliament with stationery. half this lease baskett sold to charles eyre, who eventually appointed william strahan his printer. strahan soon after brought in mr. eyre, and in erected extensive premises in printer street, new street square, between gough square and fetter lane, near the present offices of mr. spottiswoode, one of whose family married mr. strahan's daughter. strahan died a year after his old friend, dr. johnson, at his house in new street, leaving £ , to the stationers' company, which his son andrew augmented with £ , more. this son died in , aged eighty-three. william strahan, the son of a scotch customhouse officer, had come up to london a poor printers' boy, and worked his way to wealth and social distinction. he was associated with cadell in the purchase of copyrights, on the death of cadell's partner and former master, andrew millar, who died _circa_ . the names of strahan and cadell appeared on the title-pages of the great works of gibbon, robertson, adam smith, and blackstone. in hume wrote to strahan, "there will be no books of reputation now to be printed in london, but through your hands and mr. cadell's." gibbon's history was a vast success. the first edition of , went off in a few days. this produced £ , of which gibbon received £ s. d. the great history was finished in , by the publication of the fourth quarto volume. it appeared on the author's fifty-first birthday, and the double festival was celebrated by a dinner at mr. cadell's, when complimentary verses from that wretched poet, hayley, made the great man with the button-hole mouth blush or feign to blush. that was a proud day for gibbon, and a proud day for messrs. cadell and strahan. the first strahan, johnson's friend, was m.p. for malmesbury and wootton bassett ( - ), and his taking to a carriage was the subject of a recorded conversation between boswell and johnson, who gloried in his friend's success. it was strahan who, with johnston and dodsley, purchased, in , for £ , the first edition of johnson's "rasselas, prince of abyssinia," that sententious story, which johnson wrote in a week, to defray the expenses of his mother's funeral. boswell has recorded several conversations between dr. johnson and strahan. strahan, at the doctor's return from the hebrides, asked him, with a firm tone of voice, what he thought of his country. "that it is a very vile country, to be sure, sir," returned for answer dr. johnson. "well, sir," replied the other, somewhat mortified, "god made it." "certainly he did," answered dr. johnson again; "but we must always remember that he made it for scotchmen, and--comparisons are odious, mr. strahan--but god made hell." boswell has also a pretty anecdote relating to one of the doctor's visits to strahan's printing-office, which shows the "great bear" in a very amiable light, and the scene altogether is not unworthy of the artist's pencil. "mr. strahan," says boswell, "had taken a poor boy from the country as an apprentice, upon johnson's recommendation. johnson having inquired after him, said, 'mr. strahan, let me have five guineas on account, and i'll give this boy one. nay, if a man recommends a boy, and does nothing for him, it is a sad work. call him down.' i followed him into the courtyard, behind mr. strahan's house, and there i had a proof of what i heard him profess--that he talked alike to all. 'some people will tell you that they let themselves down to the capacity of their hearers. i never do that. i speak uniformly in as intelligible a manner as i can.' 'well, my boy, how do you go on?' 'pretty well, sir; but they are afraid i'm not strong enough for some parts of the business.' johnson: 'why, i shall be sorry for it; for when you consider with how little mental power and corporal labour a printer can get a guinea a week, it is a very desirable occupation for you. do you hear? take all the pains you can; and if this does not do, we must think of some other way of life for you. there's a guinea.' here was one of the many instances of his active benevolence. at the same time the slow and sonorous solemnity with which, while he bent himself down, he addressed a little thick, short-legged boy, contrasted with the boy's awkwardness and awe, could not but excite some ludicrous emotions." in ireland yard, on the west side of st. andrew's hill, and in the parish of st. anne, blackfriars, stood the house which shakespeare bought, in the year , and which he bequeathed by will to his daughter, susanna hall. in the deed of conveyance to the poet, the house is described as "abutting upon a street leading down to puddle wharf, and now or late in the tenure or occupation of one william ireland" (hence, we suppose, ireland yard), "part of which said tenement is erected over a great gate leading to a capital messuage, which some time was in the tenure of william blackwell, esq., deceased, and since that in the tenure or occupation of the right honourable henry, now earl of northumberland." the original deed of conveyance is shown in the city of london library, at guildhall, under a handsome glass case. the street leading down to puddle wharf is called st. andrew's hill, from the church of st. andrew's-in-the-wardrobe. the proper name (says cunningham) is puddle dock hill. chapter xix. ludgate hill. an ugly bridge and "ye belle savage"--a radical publisher--the principal gate of london--from a fortress to a prison--"remember the poor prisoners"--relics of early times--st. martin's, ludgate--the london coffee house--celebrated goldsmiths on ludgate hill--mrs. rundell's cookery book--stationers' hall--old burgavenny house and its history--early days of the stationers' company--the almanacks--an awkward misprint--the hall and its decorations--the st. cecilia festivals--dryden's "st. cecilia's day" and "alexander's feast"--handel's setting of them--a modest poet--funeral feasts and political banquets--the company's plate--their charities--the pictures at stationers' hall--the company's arms--famous masters. of all the eyesores of modern london, surely the most hideous is the ludgate hill viaduct--that enormous flat iron that lies across the chest of ludgate hill like a bar of metal on the breast of a wretch in a torture-chamber. let us hope that a time will come when all designs for city improvements will be compelled to endure the scrutiny and win the approval of a committee of taste. the useful and the beautiful must not for ever be divorced. the railway bridge lies flat across the street, only eighteen feet above the roadway, and is a miracle of clumsy and stubborn ugliness, entirely spoiling the approach to one of the finest buildings in london. the five girders of wrought iron cross the street, here only forty-two feet wide, and the span is sixty feet, in order to allow of future enlargement of the street. absurd lattice-work, decorative brackets, bronze armorial medallions, and gas lanterns and standards, form a combination that only the unsettled and imitative art of the ruthless nineteenth century could have put together. think of what the egyptians in the times of the pharaohs did with granite! and observe what we englishmen of the present day do with iron. observe this vulgar daubing of brown paint and barbaric gilding, and think of what the moors did with colour in the courts of the alhambra! a viaduct was necessary, we allow, but such a viaduct even the architect of the national gallery would have shuddered at. the difficulties, we however allow, were great. the london, chatham, and dover, eager for dividends, was bent on wedding the metropolitan railway near smithfield; but how could the hands of the affianced couple be joined? if there was no viaduct, there must be a tunnel. now, the bank of the river being a very short distance from smithfield, a very steep and dangerous gradient would have been required to effect the junction. moreover, had the line been carried under ludgate hill, there must have been a slight detour to ease the ascent, the cost of which detour would have been enormous. the tunnel proposed would have involved the destruction of a few trifles--such, for instance, as apothecaries' hall, the churchyard adjoining, the _times_ printing office--besides doing injury to the foundations of st. martin's church, the old bailey sessions house, and newgate. moreover, no station would have been possible between the thames and smithfield. the puzzled inhabitants, therefore, ended in despair by giving evidence in favour of the viaduct. the stolid hammermen went to work, and the iron nightmare was set up in all its babylonian hideousness. the enormous sum of upwards of £ , was awarded as the metropolitan board's quota for removing the hoarding, for widening the pavement a few feet under the railway bridge over ludgate hill, and for rounding off the corner. an incredible quantity of ink has been shed about the origin of the sign of the "belle sauvage" inn, and even now the controversy is scarcely settled. mr. riley records that in (richard ii.) a certain william lawton was sentenced to an uncomfortable hour in the pillory for trying to obtain, by means of a forged letter, twenty shillings from william savage, fleet street, in the parish of st. bridget. this at least shows that savage was the name of a citizen of the locality. in (henry vi.) a clause roll quoted by mr. lysons notices the bequest of john french to his mother, joan french, widow, of "savage's inn," otherwise called the "bell in the hoop," in the parish of st. bride's. stow (elizabeth) mentions a mrs. savage as having given the inn to the cutlers' company, which, however, the books of that company disprove. this, anyhow, is certain, that in (elizabeth) a john craythorne gave the reversion of the "belle sauvage" to the cutlers' company, on condition that two exhibitions to the university and certain sums to poor prisoners be paid by them out of the estate. a portrait of craythorne's wife still hangs in cutler's hall. in the inn was described as "ye belle savage." in and the landlords' tokens exhibited (says mr. noble) an indian woman holding a bow and arrow. the sign in queen anne's time was a savage man standing by a bell. the question, therefore, is, whether the name of the inn was originally derived from isabel (bel) savage, the landlady, or the sign of the bell and savage; or whether it was, as the _spectator_ cleverly suggests, from la belle sauvage, "the beautiful savage," which is a derivation very generally received. there is an old french romance formerly popular in this country, the heroine of which was known as la belle sauvage; and it is possible that mrs. isabel savage, the ancient landlady, might have become in time confused with the heroine of the old romance. in the ante-shakespearean days our early actors performed in inn-yards, the courtyard representing the pit, the upper and lower galleries the boxes and gallery of the modern theatre. the "belle sauvage," says mr. collier, was a favourite place for these performances. there was also a school of defence, or fencing school, here in queen elizabeth's time; so many a hot tybalt and fiery mercutio have here crossed rapiers, and many a silk button has been reft from gay doublets by the quick passadoes of the young swordsmen who ruffled it in the strand. this quondam inn was also the place where banks, the showman (so often mentioned by nash and others in elizabethan pamphlets and lampoons), exhibited his wonderful trained horse "marocco," the animal which once ascended the tower of st. paul's, and who on another occasion, at his master's bidding, delighted the mob by selecting tarleton, the low comedian, as the greatest fool present. banks eventually took his horse, which was shod with silver, to rome, and the priests, frightened at the circus tricks, burnt both "marocco" and his master for witchcraft. at no. in this yard--now such a little world of industry, although it no longer rings with the stage-coach horn--lived in his obscurer days that great carver in wood, grinling gibbons, whose genius evelyn first brought under the notice of charles ii. horace walpole says that, as a sort of advertisement, gibbons carved an exquisite pot of flowers in wood, which stood on his window-sill, and shook surprisingly with the motion of the coaches that passed beneath. no man (says walpole) before gibbons had "ever given to wood the loose and airy lightness of flowers, or linked together the various productions of the elements with a free disorder natural to each species." his _chef d'oeuvre_ of skill was an imitation point-lace cravat, which he carved at chatsworth for the duke of devonshire. petworth is also garlanded with gibbons' fruit, flowers, and dead game. belle sauvage yard no longer re-echoes with the guard's rejoicing horn, and the old coaching interest is now only represented by a railway parcel office huddled up in the left-hand corner. the old galleries are gone over which pretty chambermaids leant and waved their dusters in farewell greeting to the handsome guards or smart coachmen. industries of a very different character have now turned the old yard into a busy hive. it is not for us to dilate upon the firm whose operations are carried on here, but it may interest the reader to know that the very sheet he is now perusing was printed on the site of the old coaching inn, and published very near the old tap-room of la belle sauvage; for where coach-wheels once rolled and clattered, only printing-press wheels now revolve. the old inn-yard is now very much altered in plan from what it was in former days. originally it consisted of two courts. into the outer one of these the present archway from ludgate hill led. it at one period certainly had contained private houses, in one of which grinling gibbons had lived. the inn stood round an inner court, entered by a second archway which stood about half-way up the present yard. over the archway facing the outer court was the sign of "the bell," and all round the interior ran those covered galleries, so prominent a feature in old london inns. near the "belle sauvage" resided that proud cobbler mentioned by steele, who has recorded his eccentricities. this man had bought a wooden figure of a beau of the period, who stood before him in a bending position, and humbly presented him with his awl, wax, bristles, or whatever else his tyrannical master chose to place in his hand. to no. (south side), ludgate hill, that strange, independent man, lamb's friend, william hone, the radical publisher, came from ship court, old bailey, where he had published those blasphemous "parodies," for which he was three times tried and acquitted, to the vexation of lord ellenborough. here, having sown his seditious wild oats and broken free from the lawyers, hone continued his occasional clever political satires, sometimes suggested by bitter hazlitt and illustrated by george cruikshank's inexhaustible fancy. here hone devised those delightful miscellanies, the "every-day book" and "year book," into which lamb and many young poets threw all their humour and power. the books were commercially not very successful, but they have delighted generations, and will delight generations to come. mr. timbs, who saw much of hone, describes him as sitting in a second-floor back room, surrounded by rare books and black-letter volumes. his conversion from materialism to christianity was apparently sudden, though the process of change had no doubt long been maturing. the story of his conversion is thus related by mr. timbs:--"hone was once called to a house, in a certain street in a part of the world of london entirely unknown to him. as he walked he reflected on the entirely unknown region. he arrived at the house, and was shown into a room to wait. all at once, on looking round, to his astonishment and almost horror, every object he saw seemed familiar to him. he said to himself, 'what is this? i was never here before, and yet i have seen all this before, and as a proof i have i now remember a very peculiar knot behind the shutters.' he opened the shutters, and found the very knot. 'now, then,' he thought, 'here is something i cannot explain on any principle--there must be some power beyond matter.'" the argument that so happily convinced hone does not seem to us in itself as very convincing. hone's recognition of the room was but some confused memory of an analogous place. knots are not uncommon in deal shutters, and the discovery of the knot in the particular place was a mere coincidence. but, considering that hone was a self-educated man, and, like many sceptics, was incredulous only with regard to christianity, and even believed he once saw an apparition in ludgate hill, who can be surprised? [illustration: the inner court of the belle sauvage. from an original drawing in mr. crace's collection.] [illustration: the mutilated statues from lud gate, (_see page _).] at no. , opposite hone's, "the percy anecdotes," that well-chosen and fortunate selection of every sort of story, were first published. lud gate, which stow in his "survey" designates the sixth and principal gate of london, taken down in at the solicitation of the chief inhabitants of farringdon without and farringdon within, stood between the present london tavern and the church of st. martin. according to old geoffry of monmouth's fabulous history of england, this entrance to london was first built by king lud, a british monarch, sixty-six years before christ. our later antiquaries, ruthless as to legends, however romantic, consider its original name to have been the flood or fleet gate, which is far more feasible. lud gate was either repaired or rebuilt in the year , when the armed barons, under robert fitzwalter, repulsed at northampton, were welcomed to london, and there awaited king john's concession of the magna charta. while in the metropolis these greedy and fanatical barons spent their time in spoiling the houses of the rich jews, and used the stones in strengthening the walls and gates of the city. that this tradition is true was proved in , when (as stow says) all the gate was rebuilt. embedded among other stones was found one on which was engraved, in hebrew characters, the words "this is the ward of rabbi moses, the son of the honourable rabbi isaac." this stone was probably the sign of one of the jewish houses pulled down by fitzwalter, magnaville, and the earl of gloucester, perhaps for the express purpose of obtaining ready materials for strengthening the bulwarks of london. in (henry iii.) lud gate was repaired, and beautified with images of king lud and other monarchs. in the reign of edward vi. the citizens, zealous against everything that approached idolatry, smote off the heads of lud and his family; but queen mary, partial to all images, afterwards replaced the heads on the old bodies. in king lud and his sons looked down on a street seething with angry men, and saw blood shed upon the hill leading to st. paul's. sir thomas wyat, a kentish gentleman, urged by the earl of devon, and led on by the almost universal dread of queen mary's marriage with the bigoted philip of spain, assembled , armed men at rochester castle, and, aided by londoners, who deserted to him, raised the standard of insurrection. five vessels of the fleet joined him, and with seven pieces of artillery, captured from the duke of norfolk, he marched upon london. soon followed by , men, eager to save the princess elizabeth, wyat marched through dartford to greenwich and deptford. with a force now dwindled to , men, wyat attacked london bridge. driven from there by the tower guns, he marched to kingston, crossed the river, resolving to beat back the queen's troops at brentford, and attempt to enter the city by lud gate, which some of the protestant citizens had offered to throw open to him. the queen, with true tudor courage, refused to leave st. james's, and in a council of war it was agreed to throw a strong force into lud gate, and, permitting wyat's advance up fleet street, to enclose him like a wild boar in the toils. at nine on a february morning, , wyat reached hyde park corner, was cannonaded at hay hill, and further on towards charing cross he and some three or four hundred men were cut off from his other followers. rushing on with a standard through piccadilly, wyat reached lud gate. there (says stow) he knocked, calling out, "i am wyat; the queen has granted all my petitions." but the only reply from the strongly-guarded gate was the rough, stern voice of lord william howard--"avaunt, traitor; thou shalt have no entrance here." no friends appearing, and the royal troops closing upon him, wyat said, "i have kept my promise," and retiring, silent and desponding, sat down to rest on a stall opposite the gate of the "belle sauvage." roused by the shouts and sounds of fighting, he fought his way back, with forty of his staunchest followers, to temple bar, which was held by a squadron of horse. there the norroy king-of-arms exhorted him to spare blood and yield himself a prisoner. wyat then surrendered himself to sir maurice berkeley, who just then happened to ride by, ignorant of the affray, and, seated behind sir maurice, he was taken to st. james's. on april th wyat perished on the scaffold at tower hill. this rash rebellion also led to the immediate execution of the innocent and unhappy lady jane grey and her husband, guilford dudley, endangered the life of the princess elizabeth, and hastened the queen's marriage with philip, which took place at winchester, july th of the same year. in the reign of elizabeth ( ), the old gate, being "sore decayed," was pulled down, and was newly built, with images of lud and others on the east side, and a "picture of the lion-hearted queen" on the west, the cost of the whole being over £ , . lud gate became a free debtors' prison the first year of richard ii., and was enlarged in (edward iv.) by that "well-disposed, blessed, and devout woman," the widow of stephen forster, fishmonger, mayor of london in . of this benefactress of lud gate, maitland ( ) has the following legend. forster himself, according to this story, in his younger days had once been a pining prisoner in lud gate. being one day at the begging grate, a rich widow asked how much would release him. he said, "twenty pounds." she paid it, and took him into her service, where, by his indefatigable application to business, he so gained her affections that she married him, and he earned so great riches by commerce that she concurred with him to make his former prison more commodious, and to endow a new chapel, where, on a wall, there was this inscription on a brass plate:-- "devout souls that pass this way, for stephen forster, late lord mayor, heartily pray, and dame agnes, his spouse, to god consecrate, that of pity this house made for londoners in lud gate; so that for lodging and water prisoners here nought pay, as their keepers shall all answer at dreadful doomsday." this legend of lud gate is also the foundation of rowley's comedy of _a woman never vext; or, the widow of cornhill_, which has in our times been revived, with alterations, by mr. planché. in the first scene of the fifth act occurs the following passage:-- "_mrs. s. forster._ but why remove the prisoners from ludgate? "_stephen forster._ to take the prison down and build it new, with leads to walk on, chambers large and fair; for when myself lay there the noxious air choked up my spirits. none but captives, wife, can know what captives feel." stow, however, seems to deny this story, and suggests that it arose from some mistake. the stone with the inscription was preserved by stow when the gate was rebuilt, together with forster's arms, "three broad arrow-heads," and was fixed over the entry to the prison. the enlargement of the prison on the south-east side formed a quadrant thirty-eight feet long and twenty-nine feet wide. there were prisoners' rooms above it, with a leaden roof, where the debtors could walk, and both lodging and water were free of charge. strype says the prisoners in ludgate were chiefly merchants and tradesmen, who had been driven to want by losses at sea. when king philip came to london after his marriage with mary in thirty prisoners in lud gate, who were in gaol for £ , , compounded for at £ , , presented the king a well-penned latin speech, written by "the curious pen" of roger ascham, praying the king to redress their miseries, and by his royal generosity to free them, inasmuch as the place was not _sceleratorum carcer, sed miserorum custodia_ (not a dungeon for the wicked, but a place of detention for the wretched). marmaduke johnson, a poor debtor in lud gate the year before the restoration, wrote a curious account of the prison, which strype printed. the officials in "king lud's house" seem to have been-- , a reader of divine service; , the upper steward, called the master of the box; , the under steward; , seven assistants--that is, one for every day of the week; , a running assistant; , two churchwardens; , a scavenger; , a chamberlain; , a runner; , the cryers at the grate, six in number, who by turns kept up the ceaseless cry to the passers-by of "remember the poor prisoners!" the officers' charge (says johnson) for taking a debtor to ludgate was sometimes three, four, or five shillings, though their just due is but twopence; for entering name and address, fourteen pence to the turnkey; a lodging is one penny, twopence, or threepence; for sheets to the chamberlain, eighteenpence; to chamber-fellows a garnish of four shillings (for non-payment of this his clothes were taken away, or "mobbed," as it was called, till he did pay); and the next day a due of sixteen pence to one of the stewards, which was called table money. at his discharge the several fees were as follows:--two shillings the master's fee; fourteen pence for the turning of the key; twelve pence for every action that lay against him. for leave to go out with a keeper upon security (as formerly in the queen's bench) the prisoners paid for the first time four shillings and tenpence, and two shillings every day afterwards. the exorbitant prison fees of three shillings a day swallowed up all the prison bequests, and the miserable debtors had to rely on better means from the lord mayor's table, the light bread seized by the clerk of the markets, and presents of under-sized and illegal fish from the water-bailiffs. a curious handbill of the year , preserved by mr. collier, and containing the petition of poor ludgate prisoners, seems to have been a circular taken round by the alms-seekers of the prison, who perambulated the streets with baskets at their backs and a sealed money-box in their hands. "we most humbly beseech you," says the handbill, "even for god's cause, to relieve us with your charitable benevolence, and to put into this bearer's box--the same being sealed with the house seal, as it is figured upon this petition." a quarto tract, entitled "prison thoughts," by thomas browning, citizen and cook of london, a prisoner in lud gate, "where poor citizens are confined and starve amidst copies of their freedom," was published in that prison, by the author, in . it is written both in prose and verse, and probably gave origin to dr. dodd's more elaborate work on the same subject. the following is a specimen of the poetry:-- "on patience. "patience is the poor man's walk, patience is the dumb man's talk, patience is the lame man's thighs, patience is the blind man's eyes, patience is the poor man's ditty, patience is the exil'd man's city, patience is the sick man's bed of down, patience is the wise man's crown, patience is the live man's story, patience is the dead man's glory. "when your troubles do controul, in patience then possess your soul." in the _spectator_ (queen anne) a writer says: "passing under lud gate the other day, i heard a voice bawling for charity which i thought i had heard somewhere before. coming near to the grate, the prisoner called me by my name, and desired i would throw something into the box." the prison at lud gate was gutted by the great fire of , and in , the year of george iii.'s accession, the gate, impeding traffic, was taken down, and the materials sold for £ . the prisoners were removed to the london workhouse, in bishopsgate street, a part whereof was fitted up for that purpose, and lud gate prisoners continued to be received there until the year , when they were removed to the prison of lud gate, adjoining the compter in giltspur street. [illustration: old lud gate, from a print published about . (_see page _).] when old lud gate was pulled down, lud and his worthy sons were given by the city to sir francis gosling, who intended to set them up at the east end of st. dunstan's. nevertheless the royal effigies, of very rude workmanship, were sent to end their days in the parish bone-house; a better fate, however, awaited them, for the late marquis of hertford eventually purchased them, and they are now, with st. dunstan's clock, in hertford villa, regent's park. the statue of elizabeth was placed in a niche in the outer wall of old st. dunstan's church, and it still adorns the new church, as we have before mentioned in our chapter on fleet street. in an interesting discovery was made in st. martin's court, ludgate hill. workmen came upon the remains of a small barbican, or watch-tower, part of the old city wall of ; and in a line with the old bailey they found another outwork. a fragment of it in a court is now built up. a fire which took place on the premises of messrs. kay, ludgate hill, may , , disclosed these interesting ruins, probably left by the builders after the fire of as a foundation for new buildings. the tower projected four feet from the wall into the city ditch, and measured twenty-two feet from top to bottom. the stones were of different sizes, the largest and the corner rudely squared. they had been bound together with cement of hot lime, so that wedges had to be used to split the blocks asunder. small square holes in the sides of the tower seemed to have been used either to receive floor timbers, or as peep-holes for the sentries. the adjacent part of the city wall was about eight feet thick, and of rude workmanship, consisting of irregular-sized stones, chalk, and flint. the only bricks seen in this part of the wall were on the south side, bounding stone-cutters' alley. on the east half of chatham place, blackfriars bridge, stood the tower built by order of edward i., at the end of a continuation of the city wall, running from lud gate behind the houses in fleet ditch to the thames. a rare plan of london, by hollar (says mr. j.t. smith), marks this tower. roman monuments have been so frequently dug up near st. martin's church, that there is no doubt that a roman extra-mural cemetery once existed here; in the same locality, in , a sepulchral monument was dug up, dedicated to claudina mertina, by her husband, a roman soldier. a fragment of a statue of hercules and a female head were also found, and were preserved at the "london" coffee house. ludgate hill and street is probably the greatest thoroughfare in london. through ludgate hill and street there have passed in twelve hours , vehicles, , horses, and , persons. st. martin's, ludgate, though one of wren's churches, is not a romantic building; yet it has its legends. robert of gloucester, a rhyming chronicler, describes it as built by cadwallo, a british prince, in the seventh century:-- "a chirch of sent martyn livying he let rere, in whyche yet man should goddy's seruys do, and singe for his soule, and al christine also." the church seems to have been rebuilt in (henry vi.). from the parish books, which commence in , we find the old church to have had several chapels, and to have been well furnished with plate, paintings, and vestments, and to have had two projecting porches on the south side, next ludgate hill. the right of presentation to st. martin's belonged to the abbot of westminster, but queen mary granted it to the bishop of london. the following curious epitaph in st. martin's, found also elsewhere, has been beautifully paraphrased by the quaker poet, bernard barton:-- earth goes to } { as mold to mold, earth treads on } earth, { glittering in gold, earth as to } { return nere should, earth shall to } { goe ere he would. earth upon } { consider may, earth goes to } earth, { naked away, earth though on } { be stout and gay, earth shall from } { passe poore away. strype says of st. martin's--"it is very comely, and ascended up by stone steps, well finished within; and hath a most curious spire steeple, of excellent workmanship, pleasant to behold." the new church stands farther back than the old. the little black spire that adorns the tower rises from a small bulb of a cupola, round which runs a light gallery. between the street and the body of the church wren, always ingenious, contrived an ambulatory the whole depth of the tower, to deaden the sound of passing traffic. the church is a cube, the length feet, the breadth feet; the spire, feet high, is dwarfed by st. paul's. the church cost in erection £ , s. d. the composite pillars, organ balcony, and oaken altar-piece are tasteless and pagan. the font was the gift of thomas morley, in , and is encircled by a favourite old greek palindrome, that is, a puzzle sentence that reads equally well backwards or forwards-- "tripson anomeema me monan opsin." (cleanse thy sins, not merely thy outward self.) this inscription, according to mr. g. godwin ("churches of london"), is also found on the font in the basilica of st. sophia, constantinople. in the vestry-room, approached by a flight of stairs at the north-east angle of the church, there is a carved seat (date ) and several chests, covered with curious indented ornaments. on this church, and other satellites of st. paul's, a poet has written-- "so, like a bishop upon dainties fed, st. paul's lifts up his sacerdotal head; while his lean curates, slim and lank to view, around him point their steeples to the blue." coleridge used to compare a mr. h----, who was always putting himself forward to interpret fox's sentiments, to the steeple of st. martin's, which is constantly getting in the way when you wish to see the dome of st. paul's. one great man, at least, has been connected with this church, where the knights templars were put to trial, and that was good old purchas, the editor and enlarger of "hakluyt's voyages." he was rector of this parish. hakluyt was a prebendary of westminster, who, with a passion for geographical research, though he himself never ventured farther than paris, had devoted his life, encouraged by drake and raleigh, in collecting from old libraries and the lips of venturous merchants and sea-captains travels in various countries. the manuscript remains were bought by purchas, who, with a veneration worthy of that heroic and chivalrous age, wove them into his "pilgrims" (five vols., folio), which are a treasury of travel, exploit, and curious adventures. it has been said that purchas ruined himself by this publication, and that he died in prison. this is not, however, true. he seems to have impoverished himself chiefly by taking upon himself the care and cost of his brother and brother-in-law's children. he appears to have been a single-minded man, with a thorough devotion to geographic study. charles i. promised him a deanery, but purchas did not live to enjoy it. there is an architectural tradition that wren purposely designed the spire of st. martin's, ludgate, small and slender, to give a greater dignity to the dome of st. paul's. [illustration: ruins of the barbican on ludgate hill (_see page _).] the london coffee house, to , ludgate hill, a place of celebrity in its day, was first opened in may, . the proprietor, james ashley, in his advertisement announcing the opening, professes cheap prices, especially for punch. the usual price of a quart of arrack was then eight shillings, and six shillings for a quart of rum made into punch. this new punch house, dorchester beer, and welsh ale warehouse, on the contrary, professed to charge six shillings for a quart of arrack made into punch; while a quart of rum or brandy made into punch was to be four shillings, and half a quartern fourpence halfpenny, and gentlemen were to have punch as quickly made as a gill of wine could be drawn. after roney and ellis, the house, according to mr. timbs, was taken by messrs. leech and dallimore. mr. leech was the father of one of the most admirable caricaturists of modern times. then came mr. lovegrove, from the "horn," doctors' commons. in mr. robert clarke took possession, and was the last tenant, the house being closed in , and purchased by the corporation for £ , . several lodges of freemasons and sundry clubs were wont to assemble here periodically--among them "the sons of industry," to which many of the influential tradesmen of the wards of farringdon have been long attached. here, too, in the large hall, the juries from the central criminal court were lodged during the night when important cases lasted more than one day. during the exeter hall may meetings the london coffee house was frequently resorted to as a favourite place of meeting. it was also noted for its publishers' sales of stocks and copyrights. it was within the rules of the fleet prison. at the bar of the london coffee house was sold rowley's british cephalic snuff. a singular incident occurred here many years since. mr. brayley, the topographer, was present at a party, when mr. broadhurst, the famous tenor, by singing a high note caused a wine-glass on the table to break, the bowl being separated from the stem. at no. (north side) for many years messrs. rundell and bridge, the celebrated goldsmiths and diamond merchants, carried on their business. here flaxman's _chef d'oeuvre_, the shield of achilles, in silver gilt, was executed; also the crown worn by that august monarch, george iv. at his coronation, for the loan of the jewels of which £ , was charged, and among the elaborate luxuries a gigantic silver wine-cooler (now at windsor), that took two years in chasing. two men could be seated inside that great cup, and on grand occasions it has been filled with wine and served round to the guests. two golden salmon, leaning against each other, was the sign of this old shop, now removed. mrs. rundell met a great want of her day by writing her well-known book, "the art of cookery," published in , and which has gone through countless editions. up to she had received no remuneration for it, but she ultimately obtained , guineas. people had no idea of cooking in those days; and she laments in her preface the scarcity of good melted butter, good toast and water, and good coffee. her directions were sensible and clear; and she studied economical cooking, which great cooks like ude and francatelli despised. it is not every one who can afford to prepare for a good dish by stewing down half-a-dozen hams. [illustration: interior of stationers' hall (_see page _).] the hall of the stationers' company hides itself with the modesty of an author in stationers' hall court, ludgate hill, close abutting on paternoster row, a congenial neighbourhood. this hall of the master, and keeper, and wardens, and commonalty of the mystery or art of the stationers of the city of london stands on the site of burgavenny house, which the stationers modified and re-erected in the third and fourth years of philip and mary--the dangerous period when the company was first incorporated. the old house had been, in the reign of edward iii., the palace of john, duke of bretagne and earl of richmond. it was afterwards occupied by the earls of pembroke. in elizabeth's reign it belonged to lord abergavenny, whose daughter married sir thomas vane. in (james i.) the stationers' company purchased it and took complete possession. the house was swept away in the great fire of , when the stationers--the greatest sufferers on that occasion--lost property to the amount of £ , . the fraternity of the stationers of london (says mr. john gough nichols, f.s.a., who has written a most valuable and interesting historical notice of the worshipful company) is first mentioned in the fourth year of henry iv., when their bye-laws were approved by the city authorities, and they are then described as "writers (transcribers), lymners of books and dyverse things for the church and other uses." in early times all special books were protected by special letters patent, so that the early registers of stationers' hall chiefly comprise books of entertainment, sermons, pamphlets, and ballads. mary originally incorporated the society in order to put a stop to heretical writings, and gave the company power to search in any shop, house, chamber, or building of printer, binder, or seller, for books published contrary to statutes, acts, and proclamations. king james, in the first year of his reign, by letters-patent, granted the stationers' company the exclusive privilege of printing almanacs, primers, psalters, the a b c, the "little catechism," and nowell's catechism. the stationers' company, for two important centuries in english history (says mr. cunningham), had pretty well the monopoly of learning. printers were obliged to serve their time to a member of the company; and almost every publication, from a bible to a ballad, was required to be "entered at stationers' hall." the service is now unnecessary, but parliament still requires, under the recent copyright act, that the proprietor of every published work should register his claim in the books of the stationers' company, and pay a fee of five shillings. the number of the freemen of the company is between , and , , and of the livery, or leading persons, about . the capital of the company amounts to upwards of £ , , divided into shares, varying in value from £ to £ each. the great treasure of the stationers' company is its series of registers of works entered for publication. this valuable collection of entries commences in , and, though often consulted and quoted, was never properly understood till mr. j. payne collier published two carefully-edited volumes of extracts from its earlier pages. the celebrated bible of the year , with the important word "not" omitted in the seventh commandment--"thou shalt _not_ commit adultery"--was printed by the stationers' company. archbishop laud made a star-chamber matter of the omission, and a heavy fine was laid upon the company for their neglect. and in another later edition, in psalm xiv. the text ran, "the fool hath said in his heart, there is a god." for the omission of the important word "no" the printer was fined £ , . several other errors have occurred, but the wonder is that they have not been more frequent. the only publications which the company continues to issue are a latin gradus and almanacks, of which it had at one time the entire monopoly. almanack-day at stationers' hall (every nd of november, at three o'clock) is a sight worth seeing, from the bustle of the porters anxious to get off with early supplies. the stationers' company's almanacks are now by no means the best of the day. mr. charles knight, who worked so strenuously and so successfully for the spread of popular education, first struck a blow at the absurd monopoly of almanack printing. so much behind the age is this privileged company, that it actually still continues to publish moore's quack almanack, with the nonsensical old astrological tables, describing the moon's influence on various parts of the human body. one year it is said they had the courage to leave out this farrago, with the hieroglyphics originally stolen by lilly from monkish manuscripts, and from lilly stolen by moore. the result was that most of the copies were returned on their hands. they have not since dared to oppose the stolid force of vulgar ignorance. they still publish wing's sheet almanack, though wing was an impostor and fortune-teller, who died eight years after the restoration. all this is very unworthy of a privileged company, with an invested capital of £ , , and does not much help forward the enlightenment of the poorer classes. this company is entitled, for the supposed security of the copyright, to two copies of every work, however costly, published in the united kingdom, a mischievous tax, which restrains the publication of many valuable but expensive works. the first stationers' hall was in milk street. in they removed to st. peter's college, near st. paul's deanery, where the chantry priests of st. paul's had previously resided. the present hall closely resembles the hall at bridewell, having a row of oval windows above the lower range, which were fitted up by mr. mylne in , when the chamber was cased with portland stone and the lower windows lengthened. the great window at the upper end of the hall was erected in , at the expense of mr. alderman cadell. it includes some older glass blazoned with the arms and crest of the company, the two emblematic figures of religion and learning being designed by smirke. like most ancient halls, it has a raised dais, or haut place, which is occupied by the court table at the two great dinners in august and november. on the wall, above the wainscoting that has glowed red with the reflection of many a bumper of generous wine, are hung in decorous state the pavises or shields of arms of members of the court, which in civic processions are usually borne by a body of pensioners, the number of whom, when the lord mayor is a member of the company, corresponds with the years of that august dignitary's age. in the old water-show these escutcheons decorated the sides of the company's barge when they accompanied the lord mayor to westminster, and called at the landing of lambeth palace to pay their respects to the representative of their former ecclesiastical censors. on this occasion the archbishop usually sent out the thirsty stationers a hamper of wine, while the rowers of the barge had bread and cheese and ale to their hearts' content. it is still the custom (says mr. nichols) to forward the archbishop annually a set of the company's almanacks, and some also to the lord chancellor and the master of the rolls. formerly the twelve judges and various other persons received the same compliment. alas for the mutation of other things than almanacs, however; for in the company's barge, being sold, was taken to oxford, where it may still be seen on the isis, the property of one of the college boat clubs. at the upper end of the hall is a court cupboard or buffet for the display of the company's plate, and at the lower end, on either side of the doorway, is a similar recess. the entrance-screen of the hall, guarded by allegorical figures, and crowned by the royal arms (with the inescutcheon of nassau--william iii.), is richly adorned with carvings. stationers' hall was in used for divine service by the parish of st. martin's, ludgate, and towards the end of the seventeenth century an annual musical festival was instituted on the nd of november, in commemoration of saint cecilia, and as an excuse for some good music. a splendid entertainment was provided in the hall, preceded by a grand concert of vocal and instrumental music, which was attended by people of the first rank. the special attraction was always an ode to saint cecilia, set by purcell, blow, or some other eminent composer of the day. dryden's and pope's odes are almost too well known to need mention; but addison, yalden, shadwell, and even d'urfey, tried their hands on praises of the same musical saint. after several odes by the mediocre satirist, oldham, and that poor verse-maker, nahum tate, who scribbled upon king david's tomb, came dryden. the music to the first ode, says scott, was first written by percival clarke, who killed himself in a fit of lovers' melancholy in . it was then reset by draghi, the italian composer, and in was again set by clayton for one of sir richard steele's public concerts. the first ode ( ) contains those fine lines:-- "from harmony, from heavenly harmony, this universal frame began; from harmony to harmony, through all the compass of the notes it ran, the diapason closing full in man." of the composition of this ode, for which dryden received £ , and which was afterwards eclipsed by the glories of its successor, the following interesting anecdote is told:-- "mr. st. john, afterwards lord bolingbroke, happening to pay a morning visit to dryden, whom he always respected, found him in an unusual agitation of spirits, even to a trembling. on inquiring the cause, 'i have been up all night,' replied the old bard. 'my musical friends made me promise to write them an ode for their feast of st. cecilia. i have been so struck with the subject which occurred to me, that i could not leave it till i had completed it. here it is, finished at one sitting.' and immediately he showed him the ode." dryden's second ode, "alexander's feast; or, the power of music," was written for the st. cecilian feast at stationers' hall in . this ode ends with those fine and often-quoted lines on the fair saint:-- "let old timotheus yield the prize, or both divide the crown; he raised a mortal to the skies, she drew an angel down." handel, in , set this ode, and reproduced it at covent garden, with deserved success. not often do such a poet and such a musician meet at the same anvil. the great german also set the former ode, which is known as "the ode on st. cecilia's day." dryden himself told tonson that he thought with the town that this ode was the best of all his poetry; and he said to a young flatterer at will's, with honest pride--"you are right, young gentleman; a nobler never was produced, nor ever will." many magnificent funerals have been marshalled in the stationers' hall; it has also been used for several great political banquets. in september, , the reform members of the house of commons gave a dinner to the chancellor of the exchequer (lord althorp) and to lord john russell--mr. abercromby (afterwards speaker) presiding. in may, , the duke of wellington presided over a dinner for the infant orphan asylum, and in june, , a dinner for the king's college hospital was given under sir robert peel's presidency. in the great kitchen below the hall, mr. nichols, who is an honorary member of the company, says there have been sometimes seen at the same time as many as eighteen haunches of venison, besides a dozen necks and other joints; for these companies are as hospitable as they are rich. the funeral feast of thomas sutton, of the charterhouse, was given may th, , in stationers' hall, the procession having started from doctor law's, in paternoster row. for the repast were provided " neats' tongues, stone of beef, marrow-bones, lamb, capons, geese, pheasants, pheasants' pullets, godwits, rabbits, hearnshaws, turkey-chickens, roast chickens, house pigeons, field pigeons, quails, ducklings, eggs, salmon, congers, turbots, dories, lobsters, mullets, a firkin and keg of sturgeon, barrels of pickled oysters, gammon of bacon, westphalia gammons, fried tongues, chicken pies, pasties, made dishes of rice, neats'-tongue pies, custards, dishes of bait, mince pies, orange pies, gooseberry tarts, redcare pies, dishes of whitebait, and grand salads." to the west of the hall is the handsome court-room, where the meetings of the company are held. the wainscoting, &c., were renewed in the year , and an octagonal card-room was added by mr. mylne in . on the opposite side of the hall is the stock-room, adorned by beautiful carvings of the school of grinling gibbons. here the commercial committees of the company usually meet. the nine painted storeys which stood in the old hall, above the wainscot in the council parlour, probably crackled to dust in the great fire, which also rolled up and took away the portraits of john cawood, printer to philip and mary, and his master, john raynes. this same john cawood seems to have been specially munificent in his donations to the company, for he gave two new stained-glass windows to the hall; also a hearse-cover, of cloth and gold, powdered with blue velvet and bordered with black velvet, embroidered and stained with blue, yellow, red, and green, besides considerable plate. the company's curious collection of plate is carefully described by mr. nichols. in it seems every master on quitting the chair was required to give a piece of plate, weighing fourteen ounces at least; and every upper or under warden a piece of plate of at least three ounces. in this accumulative manner the worshipful company soon became possessed of a glittering store of "salts," gilt bowls, college pots, snuffers, cups, and flagons. their greatest trophy seems to have been a large silver-gilt bowl, given in by a mr. hulet (owlett), weighing sixty ounces, and shaped like an owl, in allusion to the donor's name. in the early civil war, when the company had to pledge their plate to meet the heavy loans exacted by charles the martyr from a good many of his unfortunate subjects, the cherished owlett was specially excepted. among other memorials in the possession of the company was a silver college cup bought in memory of mr. john sweeting, who, dying in (the year before the restoration), founded by will the pleasant annual venison dinner of the company in august. it is supposed that all the great cupboards of plate were lost in the fire of , for there is no piece now existing (says mr. nichols) of an earlier date than . it has been the custom also from time to time to melt down obsolete plate into newer forms and more useful vessels. thus salvers and salt-cellars were in - turned into monteaths, or bowls, filled with water, to keep the wine-glasses cool; and in a handsome rosewater dish was made out of a silver bowl, and an old tea-urn and coffee-urn. this custom is rather too much like saturn devouring his own children, and has led to the destruction of many curious old relics. the massive old plate now remaining is chiefly of the reign of charles ii. high among these presents tower the quaint silver candlesticks bequeathed by mr. richard royston, twice master of the stationers' company, who died in , and had been bookseller to three kings--james i., charles i., and charles ii. the ponderous snuffers and snuffer-box are gone. there were also three other pairs of candlesticks, given by mr. nathanael cole, who had been clerk of the company, at his death in . a small two-handled cup was bequeathed in by that worthy old printer, william bowyer, as a memorial of the company's munificence to his father after his loss by fire in - . the stationers are very charitable. their funds spring chiefly from £ , bequeathed to them by mr. john norton, the printer to the learned queen elizabeth in latin, greek, and hebrew, alderman of london in the reign of james i., and thrice master of this company. the money laid out by norton's wish in the purchase of estates in fee-simple in wood street has grown and grown. one hundred and fifty pounds out of this bequest the old printer left to the minister and churchwardens of st. faith, in order to have distributed weekly to twelve poor persons--six appointed by the parish, and six by the stationers' company--twopence each and a penny loaf, the vantage loaf (the thirteenth allowed by the baker) to be the clerk's; ten shillings to be paid for an annual sermon on ash wednesday at st. faith's; the residue to be laid out in cakes, wine, and ale for the company of stationers, either before or after the sermon. the liverymen still (according to mr. nichols) enjoy this annual dole of well-spiced and substantial buns. the sum of £ , was left for the generous purpose of advancing small loans to struggling young men in business. in , however, the company, under the direction of the court of chancery, devoted the sum to the founding of a commercial school in bolt court for the sons of liverymen and freemen of the company, and £ , were spent in purchasing mr. bensley's premises and dr. johnson's old house. the doctor's usual sitting-room is now occupied by the head master. the school itself is built on the site formerly occupied by johnson's garden. the boys pay a quarterage not exceeding £ . the school has four exhibitions. the pictures at stationers' hall are worthy of mention. in the stock-room are portraits, after kneller, of prior and steele, which formerly belonged to harley, earl of oxford, swift's great patron. the best picture in the room is a portrait by an unknown painter of tycho wing, the astronomer, holding a celestial globe. tycho was the son of vincent wing, the first author of the almanacks still published under his name, and who died in . there are also portraits of that worthy old printer, samuel richardson and his wife; archbishop tillotson, by kneller; bishop hoadley, prelate of the order of the garter; robert nelson, the author of the "fasts and festivals," who died in - , by kneller; and one of william bowyer, the whitefriars printer, with a posthumous bust beneath it of his son, the printer of the votes of the house of commons. there was formerly a brass plate beneath this bust expressing the son's gratitude to the company for their munificence to his father after the fire which destroyed his printing-office. in the court-room hangs a portrait of john boydell, who was lord mayor of london in the year . this picture, by graham, was formerly surrounded by allegorical figures of justice, prudence, industry, and commerce; but they have been cut out to reduce the canvas to kit-cat size. there is a portrait, by owen, of lord mayor domville, master of the stationers' company, in the actual robe he wore when he rode before the prince regent and the allies in to the guildhall banquet and the peace thanksgiving. in the card-room is an early picture, by west, of king alfred dividing his loaf with the pilgrim--a representation, by the way, of a purely imaginary occurrence--in fact, the old legend is that it was really st. cuthbert who executed this generous partition. there are also portraits of the two strahans, masters in and ; one of alderman cadell, master in , by sir william beechey; and one of john nicholls, master of the company in , after a portrait by jackson. in the hall, over the gallery, is a picture, by graham, of mary queen of scots escaping from the castle of lochleven. it was engraved by dawe, afterwards a royal academician, when he was only fourteen years of age. the arms of the company appear from a herald visitation of to have been azure on a chevron, an eagle volant, with a diadem between two red roses, with leaves vert, between three books clasped gold; in chief, issuing out of a cloud, the sunbeams gold, a holy spirit, the wings displayed silver, with a diadem gold. in later times the books have been blazoned as bibles. in a "tricking" in the volume before mentioned, in the college of arms, st. john the evangelist stands behind the shield in the attitude of benediction, and bearing in his left hand a cross with a serpent rising from it (much more suitable for the scriveners or law writers, by the bye). on one side of the shield stands the evangelist's emblematic eagle, holding an inkhorn in his beak. the company never received any grant of arms or supporters, but about the year two angels seem to have been used as supporters. about the motto "verbum domini manet in eternum" (the word of the lord endureth for ever) began to be adopted, and in the same year the crest of an eagle was used. on the silver badge of the company's porter the supporters are naked winged boys, and the eagle on the chevron is turned into a dove holding an olive-branch. some of the buildings of the present hall are still let to paternoster row booksellers as warehouses. the list of masters of this company includes sir john key, bart. ("don key"), lord mayor in - . in thomas parkhurst, who had been master of the worshipful company in , left £ to purchase bibles and psalters, to be annually given to the poor; hence the old custom of giving bibles to apprentices bound at stationers' hall. this is the first of the many city companies of which we shall have by turns to make mention in the course of this work. though no longer useful as a guild to protect a trade which now needs no fostering, we have seen that it still retains some of its mediæval virtues. it is hospitable and charitable as ever, if not so given to grand funeral services and ecclesiastical ceremonials. its privileges have grown out of date and obsolete, but they harm no one but authors, and to the wrongs of authors both governments and parliaments have been from time immemorial systematically indifferent. [illustration: old st. paul's, from a view by hollar.] chapter xx. st. paul's. london's chief sanctuary of religion--the site of st. paul's--the earliest authenticated church there--the shrine of erkenwald--st. paul's burnt and rebuilt--it becomes the scene of a strange incident--important political meeting within its walls--the great charter published there--st. paul's and papal power in england--turmoils around the grand cathedral--relics and chantry chapels in st. paul's--royal visits to st. paul's--richard, duke of york, and henry vi.--a fruitless reconciliation--jane shore's penance--a tragedy of the lollards' tower--a royal marriage--henry viii. and cardinal wolsey at st. paul's--"peter of westminster"--a bonfire of bibles--the cathedral clergy fined--a miraculous rood--st. paul's under edward vi. and bishop ridley--a protestant tumult at paul's cross--strange ceremonials--queen elizabeth's munificence--the burning of the spire--desecration of the nave--elizabeth and dean nowell--thanksgiving for the armada--the "children of paul's"--government lotteries--executions in the churchyard--inigo jones's restorations and the puritan parliament--the great fire of --burning of old st. paul's, and destruction of its monuments--evelyn's description of the fire--sir christopher wren called in. stooping under the flat iron bar that lies like a bone in the mouth of ludgate hill, we pass up the gentle ascent between shops hung with gold chains, brimming with wealth, or crowded with all the luxuries that civilisation has turned into necessities; and once past the impertinent black spire of st. martin's, we come full-butt upon the great grey dome. the finest building in london, with the worst approach; the shrine of heroes; the model of grace; the _chef-d'oeuvre_ of a great genius, rises before us, and between its sable corinthian pillars we have now to thread our way in search of the old legends of st. paul's. the old associations rise around us as we pass across the paved area that surrounds queen anne's mean and sooty statue. from the times of the saxons to the present day, london's chief sanctuary of religion has stood here above the river, a landmark to the ships of all nations that have floated on the welcoming waters of the thames. that great dome, circled with its coronet of gold, is the first object the pilgrim traveller sees, whether he approach by river or by land; the sparkle of that golden cross is seen from many a distant hill and plain. st. paul's is the central object--the very palladium--of modern london. [illustration: old st. paul's.--the interior, looking east.] camden, the elizabethan historian, revived an old tradition that a roman temple to diana once stood where st. paul's was afterwards built; and he asserts that in the reign of edward iii. an incredible quantity of ox-skulls, stag-horns, and boars' tusks, together with some sacrificial vessels, were exhumed on this site. selden, a better orientalist than celtic scholar (charles i.), derived the name of london from two welsh words, "llan-den"--church of diana. dugdale, to confirm these traditions, drags a legend out of an obscure monkish chronicle, to the effect that during the diocletian persecution, in which st. alban, a centurion, was martyred, the romans demolished a church standing on the site of st. paul's, and raised a temple to diana on its ruins, while in thorny island, westminster, st. peter, in the like manner, gave way to apollo. these myths are, however, more than doubtful. sir christopher wren's excavations for the foundation of modern st. paul's entirely refuted these confused stories, to which the learned and the credulous had paid too much deference. he dug down to the river-level, and found neither ox-bone nor stag-horn. what he did find, however, was curious. it was this:-- . below the mediæval graves saxon stone coffins and saxon tombs, lined with slabs of chalk. . lower still, british graves, and in the earth around the ivory and boxwood skewers that had fastened the saxons' woollen shrouds. . at the same level with the saxon graves, and also deeper, roman funeral urns. these were discovered as deep as eighteen feet. roman lamps, tear vessels, and fragments of sacrificial vessels of samian ware were met with chiefly towards the cheapside corner of the churchyard. there had evidently been a roman cemetery outside this prætorian camp, and beyond the ancient walls of london, the wise nation, by the laws of the twelve tables, forbidding the interment of the dead within the walls of a city. there may have been a british or a saxon temple here; for the church tried hard to conquer and consecrate places where idolatry had once triumphed. but the temple of diana was moonshine from the beginning, and moonshine it will ever remain. the antiquaries were, however, angry with wren for the logical refutation of their belief. dr. woodward (the "martinus scriblerus" of pope and his set) was especially vehement at the slaying of his hobby, and produced a small brass votive image of diana, that had been found between the deanery and blackfriars. wren, who could be contemptuous, disdained a reply, and so the matter remained till , when the discovery of a rude stone altar, with an image of diana, under the foundation of the new goldsmith's hall, foster lane, cheapside, revived the old dispute, yet did not help a whit to prove the existence of the supposed temple to the goddess of moonshine. the earliest authenticated church of st. paul's was built and endowed by ethelbert, king of east kent, with the sanction of sebert, king of the east angles; and the first bishop who preached within its walls was mellitus, the companion of st. augustine, the first christian missionary who visited the heathen saxons. the visit of st. paul to england in the time of boadicea's war, and that of joseph of arimathea, are mere monkish legends. the londoners again became pagan, and for thirty-eight years there was no bishop at st. paul's, till a brother of st. chad of lichfield came and set his foot on the images of thor and wodin. with the fourth successor of mellitus, saint erkenwald, wealth and splendour returned to st. paul's. this zealous man worked miracles both before and after his death. he used to be driven about in a cart, and one legend says that he often preached to the woodmen in the wild forests that lay to the north of london. on a certain day one of the cart-wheels came off in a slough. the worthy confessor was in a dilemma. the congregation under the oaks might have waited for ever, but the one wheel left was equal to the occasion, for it suddenly grew invested with special powers of balancing, and went on as steadily as a velocipede with the smiling saint. this was pretty well, but still nothing to what happened after the good man's death. st. erkenwald departed at last in the odour of sanctity at his sister's convent at barking. eager to get hold of so valuable a body, the chertsey monks instantly made a dash for it, pursued by the equally eager clergy of st. paul's, who were fully alive to the value of their dead bishop, whose shrine would become a money-box for pilgrim's offerings. the london priests, by a forced march, got first to barking and bore off the body; but the monks of chertsey and the nuns of barking followed, wringing their hands and loudly protesting against the theft. the river lea, sympathising with their prayers, rose in a flood. there was no boat, no bridge, and a fight for the body seemed imminent. a pious man present, however, exhorted the monks to peace, and begged them to leave the matter to heavenly decision. the clergy of st. paul's then broke forth into a litany. the lea at once subsided, the cavalcade crossed at stratford, the sun cast down its benediction, and the clergy passed on to st. paul's with their holy spoil. from that time the shrine of erkenwald became a source of wealth and power to the cathedral. the saxon kings, according to dean milman, were munificent to st. paul's. the clergy claimed tillingham, in essex, as a grant from king ethelbert, and that place still contributes to the maintenance of the cathedral. the charters of athelstane are questionable, but the places mentioned in them certainly belonged to st. paul's till the ecclesiastical commissioners broke in upon that wealth; and the charter of canute, still preserved, and no doubt authentic, ratifies the donations of his saxon predecessors. william the conqueror's norman bishop of london was a good, peace-loving man, who interceded with the stern monarch, and recovered the forfeited privileges of the refractory london citizens. for centuries--indeed, even up to the end of queen mary's reign--the mayor, aldermen, and crafts used to make an annual procession to st. paul's, to visit the tomb of good bishop william in the nave. in the lord mayor, edward barkham, caused these quaint lines to be carved on the bishop's tomb:-- "walkers, whosoe'er ye bee, if it prove you chance to see, upon a solemn scarlet day, the city senate pass this way, their grateful memory for to show, which they the reverent ashes owe of bishop norman here inhumed, by whom this city has assumed large privileges; those obtained by him when conqueror william reigned. this being by barkham's thankful mind renewed, call it the monument of gratitude." the ruthless conqueror granted valuable privileges to st. paul's. he freed the church from the payment of danegeld, and all services to the crown. his words (if they are authentic) are--"some lands i give to god and the church of st. paul's, in london, and special franchises, because i wish that this church may be free in all things, as i wish my soul to be on the day of judgment." in this same reign the primate lanfranc held a great council at st. paul's--a council which milman calls "the first full ecclesiastical parliament of england." twelve years after ( ), the year the conqueror died, fire, that persistent enemy of st. paul's, almost entirely consumed the cathedral. bishop maurice set to work to erect a more splendid building, with a vast crypt, in which the valuable remains of st. erkenwald were enshrined. william of malmesbury ranked it among the great buildings of his time. one of the last acts of the conqueror was to give the stone of a palatine tower (on the subsequent site of blackfriars) for the building. the next bishop, de balmeis, is said to have devoted the whole of his revenues for twenty years to this pious work. fierce rufus--no friend of monks--did little; but the milder monarch, henry i., granted exemption of toll to all vessels, laden with stone for st. paul's, that entered the fleet. to enlarge the area of the church, king henry gave part of the palatine tower estate, which was turned into a churchyard and encircled with a wall, which ran along carter lane to creed lane, and was freed of buildings. the bishop, on his part, contributed to the service of the altar the rents of paul's wharf, and for a school gave the house of durandus, at the corner of bell court. on the bishop's death, the crown seized his wealth, and the bishop's boots were carried to the exchequer full of gold and silver. st. bernard, however, praises him, and says: "it was not wonderful that master gilbert should be a bishop; but that the bishop of london should live like a poor man, that was magnificent." in the reign of stephen a dreadful fire broke out and raged from london bridge to st. clement danes. in this fire st. paul's was partially destroyed. the bishop, in his appeals for contributions to the church, pleaded that this was the only london church specially dedicated to st. paul. the citizens of london were staunch advocates of king stephen against the empress maud, and at their folkmote, held at the cheapside end of st. paul's, claimed the privilege of naming a monarch. in the reign of henry ii. st. paul's was the scene of a strange incident connected with the quarrel between the king and that ambitious churchman, the primate becket. gilbert foliot, the learned and austere bishop of london, had sided with the king and provoked the bitter hatred of becket. during the celebration of mass a daring emissary of becket had the boldness to thrust a roll, bearing the dreaded sentence of excommunication against foliot, into the hands of the officiating priest, and at the same time to cry aloud--"know all men that gilbert, bishop of london, is excommunicated by thomas, archbishop of canterbury!" foliot for a time defied the interdict, but at last bowed to his enemy's authority, and refrained from entering the church of st. paul's. the reign of richard i. was an eventful one to st. paul's. in , when coeur de lion was in palestine, prince john and all the bishops met in the nave of st. paul's to arraign william de longchamp, one of the king's regents, of many acts of tyranny. in the reign of their absentee monarch the londoners grew mutinous, and their leader, william fitzosbert, or longbeard, denounced their oppressors from paul's cross. these disturbances ended in the siege of bow church, where fitzosbert had fortified himself, and by the burning alive of him and other ringleaders. it was at this period that dean radulph de diceto, a monkish chronicler of learning, built the deanery, "inhabited," says milman, "after him, by many men of letters;" before the reformation, by the admirable colet; after the reformation by alexander nowell, donne, sancroft (who rebuilt the mansion after the great fire), stillingfleet, tillotson, w. sherlock, butler, secker, newton, van mildert, copleston, and milman. st. paul's was also the scene of one of those great meetings of prelates, abbots, deans, priors, and barons that finally led to king john's concession of magna charta. on this solemn occasion--so important for the progress of england--the primate langton displayed the old charter of henry i. to the chief barons, and made them sacredly pledge themselves to stand up for magna charta and the liberties of england. one of the first acts of king henry iii. was to hold a council in st. paul's, and there publish the great charter. twelve years after, when a papal legate enthroned himself in st. paul's, he was there openly resisted by cantelupe, bishop of worcester. papal power in this reign attained its greatest height in england. on the death of bishop roger, an opponent of these inroads, the king gave orders that out of the episcopal revenue , poor should be feasted on the day of the conversion of st. paul, and , lights offered in the church. the country was filled with italian prelates. an italian archbishop of canterbury, coming to st. paul's, with a cuirass under his robes, to demand first-fruits from the bishop, found the doors closed in his face; and two canons of the papal party, endeavouring to install themselves at st. paul's, were in killed by the angry populace. in the reign of this weak king several folkmotes of the london citizens were held at paul's cross, in the churchyard. on one occasion the king himself, and his brother, the king of almayne, were present. all citizens, even to the age of twelve, were sworn to allegiance, for a great outbreak for liberty was then imminent. the inventory of the goods of bishop richard de gravesend, bishop of london for twenty-five years of this reign, is still preserved in the archives of st. paul's. it is a roll twenty-eight feet long. the value of the whole property was nearly £ , , and this sum (says milman) must be multiplied by about fifteen to bring it to its present value. when the citizens of london justly ranged themselves on the side of simon de montfort, who stood up for their liberties, the great bell of st. paul's was the tocsin that summoned the burghers to arms, especially on that memorable occasion when queen eleanor tried to escape by water from the tower to windsor, where her husband was, and the people who detested her tried to sink her barge as it passed london bridge. in the equally troublous reign of edward ii. st. paul's was again splashed with blood. the citizens, detesting the king's foreign favourites, rose against the bishop of exeter, edward's regent in london. a letter from the queen, appealing to them, was affixed to the cross in cheapside. the bishop demanded the city keys of the lord mayor, and the people sprang to arms, with cries of "death to the queen's enemies!" they cut off the head of a servant of the de spensers, burst open the gates of the bishop of exeter's palace (essex street, strand), and plundered, sacked, and destroyed everything. the bishop, at the time riding in the islington fields, hearing the danger, dashed home, and made straight for sanctuary in st. paul's. at the north door, however, the mob thickening, tore him from his horse, and, hurrying him into cheapside, proclaimed him a traitor, and beheaded him there, with two of his servants. they then dragged his body back to his palace, and flung the corpse into the river. in the inglorious close of the glorious reign of edward iii., courtenay, bishop of london, an inflexible prelate, did his best to induce some of the london rabble to plunder the florentines, at that time the great bankers and money-lenders of the metropolis, by reading at paul's cross the interdict gregory xi. had launched against them; but on this occasion the lord mayor, leading the principal florentine merchants into the presence of the aged king, obtained the royal protection for them. wycliffe and his adherents (amongst whom figured john of gaunt--"old john of gaunt, time-honoured lancaster"--chaucer's patron) soon brewed more trouble in st. paul's for the proud bishop. the great reformer being summoned to an ecclesiastical council at st. paul's, was accompanied by his friends, john of gaunt and the earl marshal, lord percy. when in the lady chapel percy demanded a soft seat for wycliffe. the bishop said it was law and reason that a cited man should stand before the ordinary. angry words ensued, and the duke of lancaster taunted courtenay with his pride. the bishop answered, "i trust not in man, but in god alone, who will give me boldness to speak the truth." a rumour was spread that john of gaunt had threatened to drag the bishop out of the church by the hair, and that he had vowed to abolish the title of lord mayor. a tumult began. all through the city the billmen and bowmen gathered. the savoy, john of gaunt's palace, would have been burned but for the intercession of the bishop. a priest mistaken for percy was murdered. the duke fled to kensington, and joined the princess of wales. richard ii., that dissolute, rash, and unfortunate monarch, once only (alive) came to st. paul's in great pomp, his robes hung with bells, and afterwards feasted at the house of his favourite, sir nicholas brember, who was eventually put to death. the lollards were now making way, and archbishop courtenay had a great barefooted procession to st. paul's to hear a famous carmelite preacher inveigh against the wycliffe doctrines. a lollard, indeed, had the courage to nail to the doors of st. paul's twelve articles of the new creed denouncing the mischievous celibacy of the clergy, transubstantiation, prayers for the dead, pilgrimages, and other mistaken and idolatrous usages. when henry bolingbroke (not yet crowned henry iv.) came to st. paul's to offer prayer for the dethronement of his ill-fated cousin, richard, he paused at the north side of the altar to shed tears over the grave of his father, john of gaunt, interred early that very year in the cathedral. not long after the shrunken body of the dead king, on its way to the abbey, was exposed in st. paul's, to prove to the populace that richard was not still alive. hardynge, in his chronicles (quoted by milman), says that the usurping king and his nobles spread--some seven, some nine--cloths of gold on the bier of the murdered king. bishop braybroke, in the reign of edward iv., was strenuous in denouncing ecclesiastical abuses. edward iii. himself had denounced the resort of mechanics to the refectory, the personal vices of the priests, and the pilfering of sacred vessels. he restored the communion-table, and insisted on daily alms-giving. but braybroke also condemned worse abuses. he issued a prohibition at paul's cross against barbers shaving on sundays; he forbade the buying and selling in the cathedral, the flinging stones and shooting arrows at the pigeons and jackdaws nestling in the walls of the church, and the playing at ball, both within and without the church, a practice which led to the breaking of many beautiful and costly painted windows. but here we stop awhile in our history of st. paul's, on the eve of the sanguinary wars of the roses, to describe mediæval st. paul's, its structure, and internal government. foremost among the relics were two arms of st. mellitus (miraculously enough, of quite different sizes). behind the high altar--what dean milman justly calls "the pride, glory, and fountain of wealth" to st. paul's--was the body of st. erkenwald, covered with a shrine which three london goldsmiths had spent a whole year in chiselling; and this shrine was covered with a grate of tinned iron. the very dust of the chapel floor, mingled with water, was said to work instantaneous cures. on the anniversary of st. erkenwald the whole clergy of the diocese attended in procession in their copes. when king john of france was made captive at poictiers, and paid his orisons at st. paul's, he presented four golden basins to the high altar, and twenty-two nobles at the shrine of st. erkenwald. milman calculates that in the oblation-box alone at st. paul's produced an annual sum to the dean and chapter of £ , . among other relics that were milch cows to the monks were a knife of our lord, some hair of mary magdalen, blood of st. paul, milk of the virgin, the hand of st. john, pieces of the mischievous skull of thomas à becket, and the head and jaw of king ethelbert. these were all preserved in jewelled cases. one hundred and eleven anniversary masses were celebrated. the chantry chapels in the cathedral were very numerous, and they were served by an army of idle and often dissolute mass priests. there was one chantry in pardon churchyard, on the north side of st. paul's, east of the bishop's chapel, where st. thomas becket's ancestors were buried. the grandest was one near the nave, built by bishop kemp, to pray for himself and his royal master, edward iv. another was founded by henry iv. for the souls of his father, john of gaunt, and his mother, blanche of castile. a third was built by lord mayor pulteney, who was buried in st. lawrence pulteney, so called from him. the revenues of these chantries were vast. but to return to our historical sequence. during the ruthless wars of the roses st. paul's became the scene of many curious ceremonials, on which shakespeare himself has touched, in his early historical plays. it was on a platform at the cathedral door that roger bolingbroke, the spurious necromancer who was supposed to have aided the ambitious designs of the duke and duchess of gloucester, was exhibited. the duchess's penance for the same offence, according to milman's opinion, commenced or closed near the cathedral, in that shameful journey when she was led through the streets wrapped in a sheet, and carrying a lighted taper in her hand. the duke, her husband, was eventually buried at st. paul's, where his tomb became the haunt of needy men about town, whence the well-known proverb of "dining with duke humphrey." henry vi.'s first peaceful visit to st. paul's is quaintly sketched by that dull old poet, lydgate, who describes "the bishops _in pontificalibus_, the dean of paules and canons, every one who conveyed the king" "up into the church, with full devout singing; and when he had made his offering, the mayor, the citizens, bowed and left him." while all the dark troubles still were pending, we find the duke of york taking a solemn oath on the host of fealty to king henry. six years later, after the battle of st. albans, the yorkists and lancastrians met again at the altar of st. paul's in feigned unity. the poor weak monarch was crowned, and had sceptre in hand, and his proud brilliant queen followed him in smiling converse with the duke of york. again the city poet broke into rejoicing at the final peace:-- "at paul's in london, with great renown, on lady day in lent, this peace was wrought; the king, the queen, with lords many an one, to worship the virgin as they ought, went in procession, and spared right nought in sight of all the commonalty; in token this love was in heart and thought, rejoice england in concord and unity." [illustration: the church of st. faith, the crypt of old st. paul's, from a view by hollar.] alas for such reconciliations! four years later more blood had been shed, more battle-fields strewn with dead. the king was a captive, had disinherited his own son, and granted the succession to the duke of york, whose right a parliament had acknowledged. his proud queen was in the north rallying the scattered lancastrians. york and warwick, henry's deadly enemies, knelt before the primate, and swore allegiance to the king; and the duke's two sons, march and rutland, took the same oath. within a few months wakefield was fought; richard was slain, and the duke's head, adorned with a mocking paper crown, was sent, by the she-wolf of a queen, to adorn the walls of york. the next year, however, fortune forsook henry for ever, and st. paul's welcomed edward iv. and the redoubtable "king-maker," who had won the crown for him at the battle of mortimer's cross; and no lancastrian dared show his face on that triumphant day. ten years later warwick, veering to the downfallen king, was slain at barnet, and the body of the old warrior, and that of his brother, were exposed, barefaced, for three days in st. paul's, to the delight of all true yorkists. those were terrible times, and the generosity of the old chivalry seemed now despised and forgotten. the next month there was even a sadder sight, for the body of king henry himself was displayed in the cathedral. broken-hearted, said the yorkists, but the lancastrian belief (favoured by shakespeare) was that richard duke of gloucester, the wicked crookback, stabbed him with his own hand in the tower, and it was said that blood poured from the body when it lay in the cathedral. again st. paul's was profaned at the death of edward iv., when richard came to pay his ostentatious orisons in the cathedral, while he was already planning the removal of the princes to the tower. always anxious to please the london citizens, it was to st. paul's cross that richard sent dr. shaw to accuse clarence of illegitimacy. at st. paul's, too, according to shakespeare, who in his historic plays often follows traditions now forgotten, or chronicles that have perished, the charges against hastings were publicly read. jane shore, the mistress, and supposed accomplice of hastings in bewitching richard, did penance in st. paul's. she was the wife of a london goldsmith, and had been mistress of edward iv. her beauty, as she walked downcast with shame, is said to have moved every heart to pity. on his accession, king richard, nervously fingering his dagger, as was his wont to do according to the chronicles, rode to st. paul's, and was received by procession, amid great congratulation and acclamation from the fickle people. kemp, who was the yorkist bishop during all these dreadful times, rebuilt st. paul's cross, which then became one of the chief ornaments of london. [illustration: st. paul's after the fall of the spire, from a view by hollar (_see page _).] richard's crown was presently beaten into a hawthorn bush on bosworth field, and his defaced, mangled, and ill-shaped body thrown, like carrion, across a pack-horse and driven off to leicester, and henry vii., the astute, the wily, the thrifty, reigned in his stead. after henry's victory over simnel he came two successive days to st. paul's to offer his thanksgiving, and simnel (afterwards a scullion in the royal kitchen) rode humbly at his conqueror's side. the last ceremonial of the reign of henry vii. that took place at st. paul's was the ill-fated marriage of prince arthur (a mere boy, who died six months after) with katherine of arragon. the whole church was hung with tapestry, and there was a huge scaffold, with seats round it, reaching from the west door to the choir. on this platform the ceremony was performed. all day, at several places in the city, and at the west door of the cathedral, the conduits ran for the delighted people with red and white wine. the wedded children were lodged in the bishop's palace, and three days later returned by water to westminster. when henry vii. died, his body lay in state in st. paul's, and from thence it was taken to windsor, to remain there till the beautiful chapel he had endowed at westminster was ready for his reception. the dean and chapter of st. paul's were among the trustees for the endowment he left, and the cathedral still possesses the royal testament. a venetian ambassador who was present has left a graphic description of one of the earliest ceremonies ( ) which henry viii. witnessed at st. paul's. the pope (leo x.) had sent the young and chivalrous king a sword and cap of maintenance, as a special mark of honour. the cap was of purple satin, covered with embroidery and pearls, and decked with ermine. the king rode from the bishop's palace to the cathedral on a beautiful black palfrey, the nobility walking before him in pairs. at the high altar the king donned the cap, and was girt with the sword. the procession then made the entire circuit of the church. the king wore a gown of purple satin and gold in chequer, and a jewelled collar; his cap of purple velvet had two jewelled rosettes, and his doublet was of gold brocade. the nobles wore massive chains of gold, and their chequered silk gowns were lined with sables, lynx-fur, and swansdown. in the same reign richard fitz james, the fanatical bishop of london, persecuted the lollards, and burned two of the most obstinate at smithfield. it is indeed, doubtful, even now, if fitz james, in his hatred of the reformers, stopped short of murder. in , richard hunn, a citizen who had disputed the jurisdiction of the obnoxious ecclesiastical court, was thrown into the lollard's tower (the bishop's prison, at the south-west corner of the cathedral). a wycliffe bible had been found in his house; he was adjudged a heretic, and one night this obstinate man was found hung in his cell. the clergy called it suicide, but the coroner brought in a verdict of wilful murder against the bishop's chancellor, the sumner, and the bell-ringer of the cathedral. the king, however, pardoned them all on their paying £ , to hunn's family. the bishop, still furious, burned hunn's body sixteen days after, as that of a heretic, in smithfield. this fanatical bishop was the ceaseless persecutor of dean colet, that excellent and enlightened man, who founded st. paul's school, and was the untiring friend of erasmus, whom he accompanied on his memorable visit to becket's shrine at canterbury. in wolsey, proud and portly, appears upon the scene, coming to st. paul's to sing mass and celebrate eternal peace between france, england, and spain, and the betrothal of the beautiful princess mary to the dauphin of france. the large chapel and the choir were hung with gold brocade, blazoned with the king's arms. near the altar was the king's pew, formed of cloth of gold, and in front of it a small altar covered with silver-gilt images, with a gold cross in the centre. two low masses were said at this before the king, while high mass was being sung to the rest. on the opposite side of the altar, on a raised and canopied chair, sat wolsey; further off stood the legate campeggio. the twelve bishops and six abbots present all wore their jewelled mitres, while the king himself shone out in a tunic of purple velvet, "powdered" with pearls and rubies, sapphires and diamonds. his collar was studded with carbuncles as large as walnuts. a year later charles v. was proclaimed emperor by the heralds at st. paul's. wolsey gave the benediction, no doubt with full hope of the pope's tiara. in , but a little later, wolsey, "cardinal of st. cecilia and archbishop of york," was welcomed by dean pace to st. paul's. he had come to sit near paul's cross, to hear fisher, bishop of rochester, by the pope's command, denounce "martinus eleutherius" and his accursed works, many of which were burned in the churchyard during the sermon, no doubt to the infinite alarm of all heretical booksellers in the neighbouring street. wolsey had always an eye to the emperor's helping him to the papacy; and when charles v. came to england to visit henry, in , wolsey said mass, censed by more than twenty obsequious prelates. it was wolsey who first, as papal legate, removed the convocation entirely from st. paul's to westminster, to be near his house at whitehall. his ribald enemy, skelton, then hiding from the cardinal's wrath in the sanctuary at westminster, wrote the following rough distich on the arbitrary removal:-- "gentle paul, lay down thy sword, for peter of westminster hath shaven thy beard." on the startling news of the battle of pavia, when francis i. was taken prisoner by his great rival of spain, a huge bonfire illumined the west front of st. paul's, and hogsheads of claret were broached at the cathedral door, to celebrate the welcome tidings. on the sunday after, the bluff king, the queen, and both houses of parliament, attended a solemn "te deum" at the cathedral; while on st. matthew's day there was a great procession of all the religious orders in london, and wolsey, with his obsequious bishops, performed service at the high altar. two years later wolsey came again, to lament or rejoice over the sack of rome by the constable bourbon, and the captivity of the pope. singularly enough, the fire lighted by wolsey in st. paul's churchyard had failed to totally burn up luther and all his works; and on shrove tuesday, , wolsey made another attempt to reduce the new-formed bible to ashes. in the great procession that came on this day to st. paul's there were six lutherans in penitential dresses, carrying terribly symbolical fagots and huge lighted tapers. on a platform in the nave sat the portly and proud cardinal, supported by thirty-six zealous bishops, abbots, and priests. at the foot of the great rood over the northern door the heretical tracts and testaments were thrown into a fire. the prisoners, on their knees, begged pardon of god and the catholic church, and were then led three times round the fire, which they fed with the fagots they had carried. four years later, after wolsey's fall, the london clergy were summoned to st. paul's chapter-house (near the south side). the king, offended at the church having yielded to wolsey's claims as a papal legate, by which the penalty of præmunire had been incurred, had demanded from it the alarming fine of £ , . immediately six hundred clergy of all ranks thronged riotously to the chapter-house, to resist this outrageous tax. the bishop was all for concession; their goods and lands were forfeit, their bodies liable to imprisonment. the humble clergy cried out, "we have never meddled in the cardinal's business. let the bishops and abbots, who have offended, pay." blows were struck, and eventually fifteen priests and four laymen were condemned to terms of imprisonment in the fleet and tower, for their resistance to despotic power. in nineteen german anabaptists were examined in st. paul's, and fourteen of them sent to the stake. then came plain signs that the reformation had commenced. the pope's authority had been denied at paul's cross in . a miraculous rood from kent was brought to st. paul's, and the machinery that moved the eyes and lips was shown to the populace, after which it was thrown down and broken amid contemptuous laughter. nor would this chapter be complete if we did not mention a great civic procession at the close of the reign of henry viii. on whit sunday, , the children of paul's school, with parsons and vicars of every london church, in their copes, went from st. paul's to st. peter's, cornhill, bishop bonner bearing the sacrament under a canopy; and at the cross, before the mayor, aldermen, and all the crafts, heralds proclaimed perpetual peace between england, france, and the emperor. two months after, the ex-bishop of rochester preached a sermon at paul's cross recanting his heresy, four of his late fellow-prisoners in newgate having obstinately perished at the stake. in the reign of edward vi. st. paul's witnessed far different scenes. the year of the accession of the child-king, funeral service was read to the memory of francis i., latin dirges were chanted, and eight mitred bishops sang a requiem to the monarch lately deceased. at the coronation, while the guilds were marshalled along cheapside, and tapestries hung from every window, an acrobat descended by a cable from st. paul's steeple to the anchor of a ship near the deanery door. in november of the next year, at night, the crucifixes and images in st. paul's were pulled down and removed, to the horror of the faithful, and all obits and chantreys were confiscated, and the vestments and altar cloths were sold. the early reformers were backed by greedy partisans. the protector somerset, who was desirous of building rapidly a sumptuous palace in the strand, pulled down the chapel and charnel-house in the pardon churchyard, and carted off the stones of st. paul's cloister. when the good ridley was installed bishop of london, he would not enter the choir until the lights on the altar were extinguished. very soon a table was substituted for the altar, and there was an attempt made to remove the organ. the altar, and chapel, and tombs (all but john of gaunt's) were then ruthlessly destroyed. during the lady jane grey rebellion, ridley denounced mary and elizabeth as bastards. the accession of gloomy queen mary soon turned the tables. as the queen passed to her coronation, a daring dutchman stood on the cross of st. paul's waving a long streamer, and shifting from foot to foot as he shook two torches which he held over his head. but the citizens were protestants at heart. at the first sermon preached at st. paul's cross, dr. bourne, a rash essex clergyman, prayed for the dead, praised bonner, and denounced ridley. the mob, inflamed to madness, shouted, "he preaches damnation! pull him down! pull him down!" a dagger, thrown at the preacher, stuck quivering in a side-post of the pulpit. with difficulty two good men dragged the rash zealot safely into st. paul's school. for this riot several persons were sent to the tower, and a priest and a barber had their ears nailed to the pillory at st. paul's cross. the crosses were raised again in st. paul's, and the old ceremonies and superstitions revived. on st. katherine's day (in honour of the queen's mother's patron saint) there was a procession with lights, and the image of st. katherine, round st. paul's steeple, and the bells rang. yet not long after this, when a dr. pendleton preached old doctrines at st. paul's cross, a gun was fired at him. when bonner was released from the marshalsea and restored to his see, the people shouted, "welcome home;" and a woman ran forward and kissed him. we are told that he knelt in prayer on the cathedral steps. in , at the reception in st. paul's of cardinal pole, king philip attended with english, spanish, and german guards, and a great retinue of nobles. bishop gardiner preached on the widening heresy till the audience groaned and wept. of the cruel persecutions of the protestants in this reign st. paul's was now and then a witness, and likewise of the preparations for the execution of protestants, which bonner's party called "trials." thus we find master cardmaker, vicar of st. bride's, and warne, an upholsterer in walbrook, both arraigned at st. paul's before the bishop for heresy, and carried back from there to newgate, to be shortly after burned alive in smithfield. in the midst of these horrors, a strange ceremony took place at st. paul's, more worthy, indeed, of the supposititious temple of diana than of a christian cathedral, did it not remind us that popery was always strangely intermingled with fragments of old paganism. in june, (st. paul's day, says machyn, an undertaker and chronicler of mary's reign), a fat buck was presented to the dean and chapter, according to an annual grant made by sir walter le baud, an essex knight, in the reign of edward i. a priest from each london parish attended in his cope, and the bishop of london wore his mitre, while behind the burly, bullying, persecutor bonner came a fat buck, his head with his horns borne upon a pole; forty huntsmen's horns blowing a rejoicing chorus. the last event of this blood-stained reign was the celebration at st. paul's of the victory over the french at the battle of st. quintin by philip and the spaniards. a sermon was preached to the city at paul's cross, bells were rung, and bonfires blazed in every street. at elizabeth's accession its new mistress soon purged st. paul's of all its images: copes and shaven crowns disappeared. the first ceremony of the new reign was the performance of the obsequies of henry ii. of france. the empty hearse was hung with cloth of gold, the choir draped in black, the clergy appearing in plain black gowns and caps. and now, what the catholics called a great judgment fell on the old cathedral. during a great storm in , st. martin's church, ludgate, was struck by lightning; immediately after, the wooden steeple of st. paul's started into a flame. the fire burned downwards furiously for four hours, the bells melted, the lead poured in torrents; the roof fell in, and the whole cathedral became for a time a ruin. soon after, at the cross, dean nowell rebuked the papists for crying out "a judgment." in papal times the church had also suffered. in richard i.'s reign an earthquake shook down the spire, and in stephen's time fire had also brought destruction. the crown and city were roused by this misfortune. thrifty elizabeth gave , marks in gold, and , marks' worth of timber; the city gave a great benevolence, and the clergy subscribed £ , . in one month a false roof was erected, and by the end of the year the aisles were leaded in. on the st of november, the same year, the mayor, aldermen, and crafts, with eighty torch-bearers, went to attend service at st. paul's. the steeple, however, was never re-erected, in spite of queen elizabeth's angry remonstrances. in the first year of philip and mary, the common council of london passed an act which shows the degradation into which st. paul's had sunk even before the fire. it forbade the carrying of beer-casks, or baskets of bread, fish, flesh, or fruit, or leading mules or horses through the cathedral, under pain of fines and imprisonment. elizabeth also issued a proclamation to a similar effect, forbidding a fray, drawing of swords in the church, or shooting with hand-gun or dagg within the church or churchyard, under pain of two months' imprisonment. neither were agreements to be made for the payment of money within the church. soon after the fire, a man that had provoked a fray in the church was set in the pillory in the churchyard, and had his ears nailed to a post, and then cut off. these proclamations, however, led to no reform. cheats, gulls, assassins, and thieves thronged the middle aisle of st. paul's; advertisements of all kinds covered the walls, the worst class of servants came there to be hired; worthless rascals and disreputable flaunting women met there by appointment. parasites, hunting for a dinner, hung about a monument of the beauchamps, foolishly believed to be the tomb of the good duke humphrey. shakespeare makes falstaff hire red-nosed bardolph in st. paul's, and ben jonson lays the third act of his _every man in his humour_ in the middle aisle. bishop earle, in his "microcosmography," describes the noise of the crowd of idlers in paul's "as that of bees, a strange hum mixed of walking tongues and feet, a kind of still roar or loud whisper." he describes the crowd of young curates, copper captains, thieves, and dinnerless adventurers and gossip-mongers. bishop corbet, that jolly prelate, speaks of "the walk, where all our british sinners swear and talk, old hardy ruffians, bankrupts, soothsayers, and youths whose cousenage is old as theirs." on the eve of the election of sandys as bishop of london, may, , all london was roused by a papal bull against elizabeth being found nailed on the gates of the bishop's palace. it declared her crown forfeited and her people absolved from their oaths of allegiance. the fanatic maniac, felton, was soon discovered, and hung on a gallows at the bishop's gates. one or two anecdotes of interest specially connect elizabeth with st. paul's. on one occasion dean nowell placed in the queen's closet (pew) a splendid prayer-book, full of german scriptural engravings, richly illuminated. the zealous queen was furious; the book seemed to her of catholic tendencies. "who placed this book on my cushion? you know i have an aversion to idolatry. the cuts resemble angels and saints--nay, even grosser absurdities." the frightened dean pleaded innocence of all evil intentions. the queen prayed god to grant him more wisdom for the future, and asked him where they came from. when told germany, she replied, "it is well it was a stranger. had it been one of my subjects, we should have questioned the matter." once again dean nowell vexed the queen--this time from being too puritan. on ash wednesday, , the dean preaching before her, he denounced certain popish superstitions in a book recently dedicated to her majesty. he specially denounced the use of the sign of the cross. suddenly a harsh voice was heard in the royal closet. it was elizabeth's. she chidingly bade mr. dean return from his ungodly digression and revert to his text. the next day the frightened dean wrote a most abject apology to the high-spirited queen. the victory over the armada was, of course, not forgotten at st. paul's. when the thanksgiving sermon was preached at paul's cross, eleven spanish ensigns waved over the cathedral battlements, and one idolatrous streamer with an image of the virgin fluttered over the preacher. that was in september; the queen herself came in november, drawn by four white horses, and with the privy council and all the nobility. elizabeth heard a sermon, and dined at the bishop's palace. the "children of paul's," whom shakespeare, in _hamlet_, mentions with the jealousy of a rival manager, were, as dean milman has proved, the chorister-boys of st. paul's. they acted, it is supposed, in their singing-school. the play began at four p.m., after prayers, and the price of admission was d. they are known at a later period to have acted some of lily's euphuistic plays, and one of middleton's. in this reign lotteries for government purposes were held at the west door of st. paul's, where a wooden shed was erected for drawing the prizes, which were first plate and then suits of armour. in the first lottery ( ) there were , lots at s. a lot, and the profits were applied to repairing the harbours of england. in the reign of james i. blood was again shed before st. paul's. years before a bishop had been murdered at the north door; now, before the west entrance (in january, - ), four of the desperate gunpowder plot conspirators (sir everard digby, winter, grant, and bates) were there hung, drawn, and quartered. their attempt to restore the old religion by one blow ended in the hangman's strangling rope and the executioner's cruel knife. in the may following a man of less-proven guilt (garnet, the jesuit) suffered the same fate in st. paul's churchyard; and zealots of his faith affirmed that on straws saved from the scaffold miraculous portraits of their martyr were discovered. the ruinous state of the great cathedral, still without a tower, now aroused the theological king. he first tried to saddle the bishop and chapter, but lord southampton, shakespeare's friend, interposed to save them. then the matter went to sleep for twelve years. in the king again awoke, and came in state with all his lords on horseback, to hear a sermon at the cross and to view the church. a royal commission followed, inigo jones, the king's _protégé_, whom james had brought from denmark, being one of the commissioners. the sum required was estimated at £ , . the king's zeal ended here; and his favourite, buckingham, borrowed the stone collected for st. paul's for his strand palace, and from parts of it was raised that fine watergate still existing in the thames embankment gardens. when charles i. made that narrow-minded churchman, laud, bishop of london, one of laud's first endeavours was to restore st. paul's. charles i. was a man of taste, and patronised painting and architecture. inigo jones was already building the banqueting house at whitehall. the king was so pleased with inigo's design for the new portico of st. paul's, that he proposed to pay for that himself. laud gave £ , . the fines of the obnoxious and illegal high commission court were set apart for the same object. the small sheds and houses round the west front were ruthlessly cleared away. all shops in cheapside and lombard street, except goldsmiths, were to be shut up, that the eastern approach to st. paul's might appear more splendid. the church of st. gregory, at the south-west wing of the cathedral, was removed and rebuilt. inigo jones cut away all the decayed stone and crumbling gothic work of the cathedral, and on the west portico expended all the knowledge he had acquired in his visit to rome. the result was a pagan composite, beautiful but incongruous. the front, feet long and feet high, was supported by fourteen corinthian columns. on the parapet above the pillars inigo proposed that there should stand ten statues of princely benefactors of st. paul's. at each angle of the west front there was a tower. the portico was intended for a paul's walk, to drain off the profanation from within. [illustration: the chapter house of old st. paul's, from a view by hollar (_see page _).] nor were the london citizens backward. one most large-hearted man, sir paul pindar, a turkey merchant who had been ambassador at constantinople, and whose house is still to be seen in bishopsgate street, contributed £ , towards the screen and south transept. the statues of james and charles were set up over the portico, and the steeple was begun, when the storm arose that soon whistled off the king's unlucky head. the coming troubles cast shadows around st. paul's. in march, , a paper was found in the yard of the deanery, before laud's house, inscribed--"laud, look to thyself. be assured that thy life is sought, as thou art the fountain of all wickedness;" and in october, , the high commission sitting at st. paul's, nearly , puritans made a tumult, tore down the benches in the consistory, and shouted, "we will have no bishops and no high commission." the parliament made short work with st. paul's, of laud's projects, and inigo jones's classicalisms. they at once seized the £ , or so left of the subscription. to colonel jephson's regiment, in arrears for pay, £ , , they gave the scaffolding round st. paul's tower, and in pulling it to pieces down came part of st. paul's south transept. the copes in st. paul's were burnt (to extract the gold), and the money sent to the persecuted protestant poor in ireland. the silver vessels were sold to buy artillery for cromwell. there was a story current that cromwell intended to sell st. paul's to the jews for a synagogue. the east end of the church was walled in for a puritan lecturer; the graves were desecrated; the choir became a cavalry barracks; the portico was let out to sempsters and hucksters, who lodged in rooms above; james and charles were toppled from the portico; while the pulpit and cross were entirely destroyed. the dragoons in st. paul's became so troublesome to the inhabitants by their noisy brawling games and their rough interruption of passengers, that in we find them forbidden to play at ninepins from six a.m. to nine p.m. [illustration: dr. bourne preaching at paul's cross (_see page _).] when the restoration came, sunshine again fell upon the ruins. wren, that great genius, was called in. his report was not very favourable. the pillars were giving way; the whole work had been from the beginning ill designed and ill built; the tower was leaning. he proposed to have a rotunda, with cupola and lantern, to give the church light, "and incomparable more grace" than the lean shaft of a steeple could possibly afford. he closed his report by a eulogy on the portico of inigo jones, as "an absolute piece in itself." some of the stone collected for st. paul's went, it is said, to build lord clarendon's house (site of albemarle street). on august , , good mr. evelyn, one of the commissioners, describes going with wren, the bishop and dean of st. paul's, &c., and resolving finally on a new foundation. on sunday, september , the great fire drew a red cancelling line over wren's half-drawn plans. the old cathedral passed away, like elijah, in flames. the fire broke out about ten o'clock on saturday night at a bakehouse in pudding lane, near east smithfield. sunday afternoon pepys found all the goods carried that morning to cannon street now removing to lombard street. at st. paul's wharf he takes water, follows the king's party, and lands at bankside. "in corners and upon steeples, and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the city, a most horrid, bloody, malicious flame, not like the flame of an ordinary fire." on the th, he saw st. paul's church with all the roof off, and the body of the quire fallen into st. faith's. on monday, the rd, mr. evelyn describes the whole north of the city on fire, the sky light for ten miles round, and the scaffolds round st. paul's catching. on the th he saw the stones of st. paul's flying like grenades, the melting lead running in streams down the streets, the very pavements too hot for the feet, and the approaches too blocked for any help to be applied. a westminster boy named taswell (quoted by dean milman from "camden's miscellany," vol. ii., p. ) has also sketched the scene. on monday, the rd, from westminster he saw, about eight o'clock, the fire burst forth, and before nine he could read by the blaze a mo "terence" which he had with him. the boy at once set out for st. paul's, resting by the way upon fleet bridge, being almost faint with the intense heat of the air. the bells were melting, and vast avalanches of stones were pouring from the walls. near the east end he found the body of an old woman, who had cowered there, burned to a coal. taswell also relates that the ashes of the books kept in st. faith's were blown as far as eton. on the th (friday) evelyn again visited st. paul's. the portico he found rent in pieces, the vast stones split asunder, and nothing remaining entire but the inscription on the architrave, not one letter of which was injured. six acres of lead on the roof were all melted. the roof of st. faith's had fallen in, and all the magazines and books from paternoster row were consumed, burning for a week together. singularly enough, the lead over the altar at the east end was untouched, and among the monuments the body of one bishop (braybroke--richard ii.) remained entire. the old tombs nearly all perished; amongst them those of two saxon kings, john of gaunt, his wife constance of castile, poor st. erkenwald, and scores of bishops, good and bad; sir nicholas bacon, elizabeth's lord keeper, and father of the great philosopher; the last of the true knights, the gallant sir philip sidney; and walsingham, that astute counsellor of elizabeth. then there was sir christopher hatton, the dancing chancellor, whose proud monument crowded back walsingham and sidney's. according to the old scoffing distich, "philip and francis they have no tomb, for great christopher takes all the room." men of letters in old st. paul's (says dean milman) there were few. the chief were lily, the grammarian, second master of st. paul's; and linacre, the physician, the friend of colet and erasmus. of artists there was at least one great man--vandyck, who was buried near john of gaunt. among citizens, the chief was sir william hewet, whose daughter married osborne, an apprentice, who saved her from drowning, and who was the ancestor of the dukes of leeds. after the fire, bishop sancroft preached in a patched-up part of the west end of the ruins. all hopes of restoration were soon abandoned, as wren had, with his instinctive genius, at once predicted. sancroft at once wrote to the great architect, "what you last whispered in my ear is now come to pass. a pillar has fallen, and the rest threatens to follow." the letter concludes thus: "you are so absolutely necessary to us, that we can do nothing, resolve on nothing, without you." there was plenty of zeal in london still; but, nevertheless, after all, nothing was done to the rebuilding till the year . chapter xxi. st. paul's (_continued_). the rebuilding of st. paul's--ill treatment of its architect--cost of the present fabric--royal visitors--the first grave in st. paul's--monuments in st. paul's--nelson's funeral--military heroes in st. paul's--the duke of wellington's funeral--other great men in st. paul's--proposals for the completion and decoration of the building--dimensions of st. paul's--plan of construction--the dome, ball, and cross--mr. homer and his observatory--two narrow escapes--sir james thornhill--peregrine falcons on st. paul's--nooks and corners of the cathedral--the library, model room, and clock--the great bell--a lucky error--curious story of a monomaniac--the poets and the cathedral--the festivals of the charity schools and of the sons of the clergy. towards the rebuilding of st. paul's cathedral, charles ii., generous as usual in promises, offered an annual contribution of £ , ; but this, however, never seems to have been paid. it, no doubt, went to pay nell gwynne's losses at the gambling-table, or to feed the duchess of portsmouth's lap-dogs. some £ , in fines, however, were set apart for the new building. the primate sheldon gave £ , . many of the bishops contributed largely, and there were parochial collections all over england. but the bulk of the money was obtained from the city duty on coals, which (as dean milman remarks) in time had their revenge in destroying the stone-work of the cathedral. it was only by a fortunate accident that wren became the builder; for charles ii., whose tastes and vices were all french, had in vain invited over perrault, the designer of one of the fronts of the louvre. the great architect, wren, was the son of a dean of windsor, and nephew of a bishop of norwich whom cromwell had imprisoned for his romish tendencies. from a boy wren had shown a genius for scientific discovery. he distinguished himself in almost every branch of knowledge, and to his fruitful brain we are indebted for some fifty-two suggestive discoveries. he now hoped to rebuild london on a magnificent scale; but it was not to be. even in the plans for the new cathedral wren was from the beginning thwarted and impeded. ignorance, envy, jealousy, and selfishness met him at every line he drew. he made two designs--the first a greek, the second a latin cross. the greek cross the clergy considered as unsuitable for a cathedral. the model for it was long preserved in the trophy room of st. paul's, where, either from neglect or the zeal of relic-hunters, the western portico was lost. it is now at south kensington, and is still imperfect. the interior of the first design is by many considered superior to the present interior. the present recesses along the aisles of the nave, tradition says, were insisted on by james ii., who thought they would be useful as side chapels when masses were once more introduced. the first stone was laid by wren on the st june, , but there was no public ceremonial. soon after the great geometrician had drawn the circle for the beautiful dome, he sent a workman for a stone to mark the exact centre. the man returned with a fragment of a tombstone, on which was the one ominous word (as every one observed) "resurgam!" the ruins of old st. paul's were stubborn. in trying to blow up the tower, a passer-by was killed, and wren, with his usual ingenuity, resorted successfully to the old roman battering-ram, which soon cleared a way. "i build for eternity," said wren, with the true confidence of genius, as he searched for a firm foundation. below the norman, saxon, and roman graves he dug and probed till he could find the most reliable stratum. below the loam was sand; under the sand a layer of fresh-water shells; under these were sand, gravel, and london clay. at the north-east corner of the dome wren was vexed by coming upon a pit dug by the roman potters in search of clay. he, however, began from the solid earth a strong pier of masonry, and above turned a short arch to the former foundation. he also slanted the new building more to the north-east than its predecessor, in order to widen the street south of st. paul's. well begun is half done. the cathedral grew fast, and in two-and-twenty years from the laying of the first stone the choir was opened for divine service. the master mason who helped to lay the first stone assisted in fixing the last in the lantern. a great day was chosen for the opening of st. paul's. december nd, , was the thanksgiving day for the peace of ryswick--the treaty which humbled france, and seated william firmly and permanently on the english throne. the king, much against his will, was persuaded to stay at home by his courtiers, who dreaded armed jacobites among the , people who would throng the streets. worthy bishop compton, who, dressed as a trooper, had guarded the princess anne in her flight from her father, preached that inspiring day on the text, "i was glad when they said unto me, let us go into the house of the lord." from then till now the daily voice of prayer and praise has never ceased in st. paul's. queen anne, during her eventful reign, went seven times to st. paul's in solemn procession, to commemorate victories over france or spain. the first of these ( ) was a jubilee for marlborough's triumph in the low countries, and rooke's destruction of the spanish fleet at vigo. the queen sat on a raised and canopied throne; the duke of marlborough, as groom of the stole, on a stool behind her. the lords and commons, who had arrived in procession, were arranged in the choir. the brave old whig bishop of exeter, sir jonathan trelawney ("and shall trelawney die?"), preached the sermon. guns at the tower, on the river, and in st. james's park, fired off the te deum, and when the queen started and returned. in , the victory of blenheim was celebrated; in , the forcing of the french lines at tirlemont; in , the battle of ramillies and lord peterborough's successes in spain; in , more triumphs; in , the battle of oudenarde; and last of all, in , the peace of utrecht, when the queen was unable to attend. on this last day the charity children of london ( , in number) first attended outside the church. st. paul's was already, to all intents and purposes, completed. the dome was ringed with its golden gallery, and crowned with its glittering cross. in , wren's son and the body of freemasons had laid the highest stone of the lantern of the cupola, and now commenced the bitterest mortifications of wren's life. the commissioners had dwindled down to dean godolphin and six or seven civilians from doctors' commons. wren's old friends were dead. his foes compelled him to pile the organ on the screen, though he had intended it to be under the north-east arch of the choir, where it now is. wren wished to use mosaic for internal decoration; they pronounced it too costly, and they took the painting of the cupola out of wren's hands and gave it to hogarth's father-in-law, sir james thornhill. they complained of wilful delay in the work, and accused wren or his assistant of corruption; they also withheld part of his salary till the work was completed. wren covered the cupola with lead, at a cost of £ , ; the committee were for copper, at £ , . about the iron railing for the churchyard there was also wrangling. wren wished a low fence, to leave the vestibule and the steps free and open. the commissioners thought wren's design mean and weak, and chose the present heavy and cumbrous iron-work, which breaks up the view of the west front. the new organ, by father bernard smith, which cost £ , , was shorn of its full size by wren, perhaps in vexation at its misplacement. the paltry statue of queen anne, in the churchyard, was by bird, and cost £ , , exclusive of the marble, which the queen provided. the carvings in the choir, by grinling gibbons, cost £ , s. d. on some of the exterior sculpture cibber worked. in a violent pamphlet appeared, written, it was supposed, by one of the commissioners. it accused wren's head workmen of pilfering timber and cracking the bells. wren proved the charges to be malicious and untrue. the commissioners now insisted on adding a stone balustrade all round st. paul's, in spite of wren's protests. he condemned the addition as "contrary to the principles of architecture, and as breaking into the harmony of the whole design;" but, he said, "ladies think nothing well without an edging." the next year, the commissioners went a step further. wren, then eighty-six years old, and in the forty-ninth year of office, was dismissed without apology from his post of surveyor of public works. the german court, hostile to all who had served the stuarts, appointed in his place a poor pretender, named benson. this charlatan--now only remembered by a line in the "dunciad," which ridicules the singular vanity of a man who erected a monument to milton, in westminster abbey, and crowded the marble with his own titles--was afterwards dismissed from his surveyorship with ignominy, but had yet influence enough at court to escape prosecution and obtain several valuable sinecures. wren retired to his house at hampton court, and there sought consolation in philosophical and religious studies. once a year, says horace walpole, the good old man was carried to st. paul's, to contemplate the glorious _chef-d'oeuvre_ of his genius. steele, in the _tatler_, refers to wren's vexations, and attributes them to his modesty and bashfulness. the total sum expended on the building of st. paul's cathedral, according to dean milman, was £ , s. - / d.; a small residue from the coal duty was all that was left for future repairs. to this dean clark added about £ , part of the profits arising from an essex estate (the gift of an old saxon king), leased from the dean and chapter. the charge of the fabric was vested not in the dean and chapter, but in the archbishop of canterbury, the bishop of london, and the lord mayor for the time being. these trustees elect the surveyor and audit the accounts. on the accession of george i. ( ), the new king, princes, and princesses went in state to st. paul's. seventy years elapsed before an english king again entered wren's cathedral. in april, , george iii. came to thank god for his temporary recovery from insanity. queen charlotte, the prince of wales, and the duke of york were present, and both houses of parliament. bishop porteous preached the sermon, and , charity children joined in the service. in , king george came again to attend a thanksgiving for lord duncan's and lord howe's naval victories; french, spanish, and dutch flags waved above the procession, and sir horatio nelson was there among other heroes. the first grave sunk in st. paul's was fittingly that of wren, its builder. he lies in the place of honour, the extreme east of the crypt. the black marble slab is railed in, and the light from a small window-grating falls upon the venerated name. sir christopher died in , aged ninety-one. the fine inscription, "si monumentum requiris, circumspice," written probably by his son, or mylne, the builder of blackfriars bridge, was formerly in front of the organ-gallery, but is now placed over the north-western entrance. the clergy of st. paul's were for a long time jealous of allowing any monument in the cathedral. dean newton wished for a tomb, but it was afterwards erected in st. mary-le-bow. a better man than the vain, place-hunting dean was the first honoured. the earliest statue admitted was that of the benevolent howard, who had mitigated suffering and sorrow in all the prisons of europe; he stands at the corner of the dome facing that half-stripped athlete, dr. johnson, and the two are generally taken by country visitors for st. peter and st. paul. he who with goldsmith had wandered through the abbey, wondering if one day their names might not be recorded there, found a grave in westminster, and, thanks to reynolds, the first place of honour. sir joshua himself, as one of our greatest painters, took the third place, that hogarth should have occupied; and the fourth was awarded to that great oriental scholar, sir william jones. the clerical opposition was now broken through, for the world felt that the abbey was full enough, and that st. paul's required adorning. henceforward st. paul's was chiefly set apart for naval and military heroes whom the city could best appreciate, while the poets, great writers, and statesmen were honoured in the abbey, and laid among the old historic dead. from the beginning our sculptors resorted to pagan emblems and pagan allegorical figures; the result is that st. paul's resembles a pantheon of the lower empire, and is a hospital of third-rate art. the first naval conqueror so honoured was rodney; rossi received £ , for his cold and clumsy design; lord howe's statue followed; and next that of lord duncan, the hero of camperdown. it is a simple statue by westmacott, with a seaman and his wife and child on the pedestal. for earl st. vincent, bailey produced a colossal statue and the usual scribbling, history and a trumpeting victory. then came nelson's brothers in arms--men of lesser mark; but the nation was grateful, and the government was anxious to justify its wars by its victories. st. paul's was growing less particular, and now opened its arms to the best men it could get. many of nelson's captains preceded him on the red road to death--westcott, who fell at aboukir; mosse and riou, who fell before copenhagen (a far from stainless victory). riou was the brave man whom campbell immortalised in his fiery "battle of the baltic." riou lies "full many a fathom deep, by thy wild and stormy steep, elsinore." then at last, in , came a hero worthy, indeed, of such a cathedral--nelson himself. at what a moment had nelson expired! at the close of a victory that had annihilated the fleets of france and spain, and secured to britain the empire of the seas. the whole nation that day shed tears of "pride and of sorrow." the prince of wales and all his brothers led the procession of nearly , soldiers, and the chief mourner was admiral parker (the mutiny of the nore parker). nelson's coffin was formed out of a mast of the _l'orient_--a vessel blown up at the battle of the nile, and presented to nelson by his friend, the captain of the _swiftsure_. the sarcophagus, singularly enough, had been designed by michael angelo's contemporary, torreguiano, for wolsey, in the days of his most insatiable pride, and had remained ever since in wolsey's chapel at windsor; nelson's flag was to have been placed over the coffin, but as it was about to be lowered, the sailors who had borne it, as if by an irresistible impulse, stepped forward and tore it in pieces, for relics. dean milman, who, as a youth, was present, says, "i heard, or fancied i heard, the low wail of the sailors who encircled the remains of their admiral." nelson's trusty companion, lord collingwood, who led the vanguard at trafalgar, sleeps near his old captain, and lord northesk, who led the rear-guard, is buried opposite. a brass plate on the pavement under the dome marks the spot of nelson's tomb. the monument to nelson, inconveniently placed at the opening of the choir, is by one of our greatest sculptors--flaxman. it is hardly worthy of the occasion, and the figures on the pedestal are puerile. lord lyons is the last admiral whose monument has been erected in st. paul's. the military heroes have been contributed by various wars, just and unjust, successful and the reverse. there is that tough old veteran, lord heathfield, who drove off two angry nations from the scorched rock of gibraltar; sir isaac brock, who fell near niagara; sir ralph abercromby, who perished in egypt; and sir john moore, who played so well a losing game at corunna. cohorts of wellington's soldiers too lie in st. paul's--brave men, who sacrificed their lives at talavera, vimiera, ciudad rodrigo, salamanca, vittoria, and bayonne. nor has our proud and just nation disdained to honour even equally gallant men who were defeated. there are monuments in st. paul's to the vanquished at bergen-op-zoom, new orleans, and baltimore. [illustration: the rebuilding of st. paul's. from an original drawing in the possession of j.g. crace, esq.] that climax of victory, waterloo, brought ponsonby and picton to st. paul's. picton lies in the vestibule of the wellington chapel. thirty-seven years after waterloo, in the fulness of his years, wellington was deservedly honoured by a tomb in st. paul's. it was impossible to lay him beside nelson, so the eastern chapel of the crypt was appropriated for his sarcophagus. from , to , persons were present. the impressive funeral procession, with the representatives of the various regiments, and the solemn bursts of the "dead march of saul" at measured intervals, can never be forgotten by those who were present. the pall was borne by the general officers who had fought by the side of wellington, and the cathedral was illuminated for the occasion. the service was read by dean milman, who had been, as we have before mentioned, a spectator of nelson's funeral. so perfectly adapted for sound is st. paul's, that though the walls were muffled with black cloth, the dean's voice could be heard distinctly, even up in the western gallery. the sarcophagus which holds wellington's ashes is of massive and imperishable cornish porphyry, grand from its perfect simplicity, and worthy of the man who, without gasconade or theatrical display, trod stedfastly the path of duty. [illustration: the choir of st. paul's before the removal of the screen, _from an engraving published in _.] after nelson and wellington, the lesser names seem to dwindle down. yet among the great, pure, and good, we may mention, there are some crimean memorials. there also is the monument of cornwallis, that good governor-general of india; those of the two napiers, the historian and the conqueror of scinde, true knights both; that of elphinstone, who twice refused the dignity of governor-general of india; and that of the saviour of our indian empire, sir henry lawrence. nor should we forget the monuments of two indian bishops--the scholarly middleton, and the excellent and lovable heber. there is an unsatisfactory statue of turner, by bailey; and monuments to dr. babington, a london physician, and sir astley cooper, the great surgeon. the ambitious monument to viscount melbourne, the queen's first prime minister, by baron marochetti, stands in one of the alcoves of the nave; great gates of black marble represent the entrance to a tomb, guarded by two angels of white marble at the portals. more worthy than the gay melbourne of the honour of a monument in such a place, is the historian hallam, a calm, sometimes cold, but always impartial writer. in the crypt near wren lie many of our most celebrated english artists. sir joshua reynolds died in . his pall was borne by peers, and upwards of a hundred carriages followed his hearse. near him lies his successor as president, west, the quaker painter; courtly lawrence; barry, whom reynolds detested; rough, clever opie; dance; and eccentric fuseli. in this goodly company, also, sleeps a greater than all of these--joseph mallord william turner, the first landscape painter of the world. he had requested, when dying, to be buried as near to his old master, reynolds, as possible. it is said that turner, soured with the world, had threatened to make his shroud out of his grand picture of "the building of carthage." in this consecrated spot also rests robert mylne, the builder of blackfriars bridge, and mr. charles robert cockerell, the eminent architect. only one robbery has occurred in modern times in st. paul's. in december, , the plate repository of the cathedral was broken open by thieves, with the connivance of, as is supposed, some official, and , ounces of plate, valued at above £ , , were stolen. the thieves broke open nine doors to get at the treasure, which was never afterwards heard of. the spoil included the chased silver-gilt covers of the large ( ) bible, chalices, plates, tankards, and candlesticks. the cathedral, left colourless and blank by wren, has never yet been finished. the protestant choir remains in one corner, like a dry, shrivelled nut in a large shell. like the proud snail in the fable, that took possession of the lobster-shell and starved there, we remained for more than a century complacently content with our unfurnished house. at length our tardy zeal awoke. in the bishop of london wrote to the dean and chapter, urging a series of sunday evening services, for the benefit of the floating masses of londoners. dean milman replied, at once warming to the proposal, and suggested the decoration and completion of st. paul's. the earnest appeal for "the noblest church, in its style, of christian europe, the masterpiece of wren, the glory and pride of london," was at once responded to. a committee of the leading merchants and bankers was formed, including those great authorities, sir charles barry, mr. cockerell, mr. tite, and mr. penrose. they at once resolved to gladden the eye with colour, without disturbing the solemn and harmonious simplicity. paintings, mosaics, marble and gilding were requisite; the dome was to be relieved of thornhill's lifeless _grisailles_; and above all, stained-glass windows were pronounced indispensable. the dome had originally been filled by thornhill with eight scenes from the life of st. paul. he received for them the not very munificent but quite adequate sum of s. per square yard. they soon began to show symptoms of decay, and mr. parris, the painter, invented an apparatus by which they could easily be repaired, but no funds could then be found; yet when the paintings fell off in flakes, much money and labour was expended on the restoration, which has now proved useless. mr. penrose has shown that so ignorant was sir james of perspective, that his painted architecture has actually the effect of making wren's thirty-two pilasters seem to lean forward. much has already been done in st. paul's. two out of the eight large spandrel pictures round the dome are already executed. there are eventually to be four evangelists and four major prophets. above the gilt rails of the whispering gallery an inscription on a mosaic and gold ground has been placed. a marble memorial pulpit has been put up. the screen has been removed, and the organ, greatly enlarged and improved, has been divided into two parts, which have been placed on either side of the choir, above the stalls; the dome is lighted with gas; the golden gallery, ball, and cross have been re-gilt. the great baldachino is still wanting, but nine stained-glass windows have been erected, and among the donors have been the drapers' and goldsmiths' companies; there are also memorial windows to the late bishop blomfield and w. cotton, esq. the grocers', merchant taylors', goldsmiths', mercers', and fishmongers' companies have generously gilt the vaults of the choir and the arches adjoining the dome. some fifty or more windows still require stained glass. the wall panels are to be in various places adorned with inlaid marbles. it is not intended that st. paul's should try to rival st. peter's at rome in exuberance of ornament, but it still requires a good deal of clothing. the great army of sable martyrs in marble have been at last washed white, and the fire-engines might now advantageously be used upon the exterior. a few figures about the dimensions of st. paul's will not be uninteresting. the cathedral is , feet in circumference, and the height from the nave pavement to the top of the cross is feet. the height of st. peter's at rome being feet, st. paul's could stand inside st. peter's. the western towers are feet high. from east to west, st. paul's is feet long, while st. peter's is feet. the cupola is considered by many as more graceful than that of st. peter's, "though in its connection with the church by an order higher than that below it there is a violation of the laws of the art." the external appearance of st. paul's rivals, if not excels, that of st. peter's, but the inside is much inferior. the double portico of st. paul's has been greatly censured. the commissioners insisted on twelve columns, as emblematical of the twelve apostles, and wren could not obtain stones of sufficient size; but (as mr. gwilt observes) it would have been better to have had joined pillars rather than a composite heaped on a corinthian portico. in the tympanum is the conversion of st. paul, sculptured in high relief by bird; on the apex is a colossal figure of st. paul, and on the right and left are st. peter and st. james. over the southern portico is sculptured the phoenix; over the north are the royal arms and regalia, while on each side stand on guard five statues of the apostles. the ascent to the whispering gallery is by steps, to the outer and highest golden gallery steps, and to the ball steps. the outer golden gallery is at the summit of the dome. the inner golden gallery is at the base of the lantern. through this the ascent is by ladders to the small dome, immediately below the inverted consoles which support the ball and cross. ascending through the cross iron-work in the centre, you look into the dark ball, which is said to weigh , pounds; thence to the cross, which weighs , pounds, and is feet high. in - mr. cockerell removed for a time the ball and cross. from the haunches of the dome, says mr. gwilt, feet above the pavement of the church, another cone of brickwork commences, feet high and feet diameter at the bottom. this cone is pierced with apertures, as well for the purpose of diminishing its weight as for distributing the light between it and the outer dome. at the top it is gathered into a dome in the form of a hyperboloid, pierced near the vertex with an aperture feet in diameter. the top of this cone is feet from the pavement, and carries a lantern feet high, terminating in a dome whereon a ball and (aveline) cross is raised. the last-named cone is provided with corbels, sufficient in number to receive the hammer-beams of the external dome, which is of oak, and its base feet from the pavement, its summit being level with the top of the cone. in form it is nearly hemispherical, and generated by radii feet in length, whose centres are in a horizontal diameter passing through its base. the cone and the interior dome are restrained in their lateral thrust on the supports by four tiers of strong iron chains (weighing cwt. qrs. lbs.), placed in grooves prepared for their reception, and run with lead. the lowest of these is inserted in masonry round their common base, and the other three at different heights on the exterior of the cone. over the intersection of the nave and transepts for the external work, and for a height of feet above the roof of the church, a cylindrical wall rises, whose diameter is feet. between it and the lower conical wall is a space, but at intervals they are connected by cross-walls. this cylinder is quite plain, but perforated by two courses of rectangular apertures. on it stands a peristyle of thirty columns of the corinthian order, feet high, including bases and capitals, with a plain entablature crowned by a balustrade. in this peristyle every fourth intercolumniation is filled up solid, with a niche, and connection is provided between it and the wall of the lower cone. vertically over the base of that cone, above the peristyle, rises another cylindrical wall, appearing above the balustrade. it is ornamented with pilasters, between which are two tiers of rectangular windows. from this wall the external dome springs. the lantern receives no support from it. it is merely ornamental, differing entirely, in that respect, from the dome of st. peter's. in mr. horner passed the summer in the lantern, sketching the metropolis; he afterwards erected an observatory several feet higher than the cross, and made sketches for a panorama on a surface of , feet of drawing paper. from these sheets was painted a panorama of london and the environs, first exhibited at the colosseum, in regent's park, in . the view from st. paul's extends for twenty miles round. on the south the horizon is bounded by leith hill. in high winds the scaffold used to creak and whistle like a ship labouring in a storm, and once the observatory was torn from its lashings and turned partly over on the edge of the platform. the sight and sounds of awaking london are said to have much impressed the artist. on entering the cathedral, says mr. horner, at three in the morning, the stillness which then prevailed in the streets of this populous city, contrasted with their midday bustle, was only surpassed by the more solemn and sepulchral stillness of the cathedral itself. but not less impressive was the development at that early hour of the immense scene from its lofty summit, whence was frequently beheld "the forest of london," without any indication of animated existence. it was interesting to mark the gradual symptoms of returning life, until the rising sun vivified the whole into activity, bustle, and business. on one occasion the night was passed in the observatory, for the purpose of meeting the first glimpse of day; but the cold was so intense as to preclude any wish to repeat the experiment. mr. horner, in his narrative, mentions a narrow escape of mr. gwyn, while engaged in measuring the top of the dome for a sectional drawing he was making of the cathedral. while absorbed in his work mr. gwyn slipped down the globular surface of the dome till his foot stopped on a projecting lump of lead. in this awful situation, like a man hanging to the moon, he remained till one of his assistants providentially saw and rescued him. the following was, if possible, an even narrower escape:--when sir james thornhill was painting the cupola of st. paul's cathedral, a gentleman of his acquaintance was one day with him on the scaffolding, which, though wide, was not railed; he had just finished the head of one of the apostles, and running back, as is usual with painters, to observe the effect, had almost reached the extremity; the gentleman, seeing his danger, and not having time for words, snatched up a large brush and smeared the face. sir james ran hastily forward, crying out, "bless my soul, what have you done?" "i have only saved your life!" responded his friend. sir james thornhill was the son of a reduced dorsetshire gentleman. his uncle, the well-known physician, dr. sydenham, helped to educate him. he travelled to see the old masters, and on his return queen anne appointed him to paint the dome of st. paul's. he was considered to have executed the work, in the eight panels, "in a noble manner." "he afterwards," says pilkington, "executed several public works--painting, at hampton court, the queen and prince george of denmark, allegorically; and in the chapel of all souls, oxford, the portrait of the founder, over the altar the ceiling, and figures between the windows. his masterpiece is the refectory and saloon at greenwich hospital. he was knighted by george ii. he died may , , leaving a son, john, who became serjeant painter to the king, and a daughter, who married hogarth. he was a well-made and pleasant man, and sat in parliament for some years." the cathedral was artificially secured from lightning, according to the suggestion of the royal society, in . the seven iron scrolls supporting the ball and cross are connected with other rods (used merely as conductors), which unite them with several large bars descending obliquely to the stone-work of the lantern, and connected by an iron ring with four other iron bars to the lead covering of the great cupola, a distance of forty-eight feet; thence the communication is continued by the rain-water pipes, which pass into the earth, thus completing the entire communication from the cross to the ground, partly through iron and partly through lead. on the clock-tower a bar of iron connects the pine-apple on the top with the iron staircase, and thence with the lead on the roof of the church. the bell-tower is similarly protected. by these means the metal used in the building is made available as conductors, the metal employed merely for that purpose being exceedingly small in quantity. in the exterior of the dome was repaired by workmen resting upon a shifting iron frame. in a scaffold and observatory, as shown on page , were raised round the cross, and in three months some four thousand observations were made for a new trigonometrical survey of london. harting, in his "birds of middlesex," mentions the peregrine falcons of st. paul's. "a pair of these birds," he says, "for many years frequented the top of st. paul's, where it was supposed they had a nest; and a gentleman with whom i am acquainted has assured me that a friend of his once saw a peregrine strike down a pigeon in london, his attention having been first attracted by seeing a crowd of persons gazing upwards at the hawk as it sailed in circles over the houses." a pair frequenting the buildings at westminster is referred to in "annals of an eventful life," by g.w. dasent, d.c.l. a few nooks and corners of the cathedral have still escaped us. the library in the gallery over the southern aisle was formed by bishop compton, and consists of some , volumes, including some manuscripts from old st. paul's. the room contains some loosely hung flowers, exquisitely carved in wood by grinling gibbons, and the floor is composed of , pieces of oak, inlaid without nails or pegs. at the end of the gallery is a geometrical staircase of steps, which was constructed by wren to furnish a private access to the library. in crossing thence to the northern gallery, there is a fine view of the entire vista of the cathedral. the model-room used to contain wren's first design, and some tattered flags once hung beneath the dome. wren's noble model, we regret to learn, is "a ruin, after one hundred and forty years of neglect," the funds being insufficient for its repair. a staircase from the southern gallery leads to the south-western campanile tower, in which is the clock-room. the clock, which cost £ , was made by langley bradley in . the minute-hands are feet inches long, and weigh pounds each. the pendulum is feet long, and the bob weighs pounds, and yet is suspended by a spring no thicker than a shilling. the clock goes eight days, and strikes the hours on the great bell, the clapper of which weighs pounds. below the great bell are two smaller bells, on which the clock strikes the quarters. in the northern tower is the bell that tolls for prayers. mr. e.b. denison pronounced the st. paul's bell, although the smallest, as by far the best of the four large bells of england--york, lincoln, and oxford being the other three. the great bell of st. paul's (about five tons) has a diameter of nine feet, and weighs , pounds. it was cast from the metal of great tom (ton), a bell that once hung in a clock tower opposite westminster hall. it was given away in by william iii., and bought for st. paul's for £ s. d. it was re-cast in . the keynote (tonic) or sound of this bell is a flat--perhaps a natural--of the old pitch. it is never tolled but at the death or funeral of any of the royal family, the bishop of london, the dean, or the lord mayor, should he die during his mayoralty. it was not this bell, but the westminster great tom, which the sentinel on duty during the reign of william iii. declared he heard strike thirteen instead of twelve at midnight; and the truth of the fact was deposed to by several persons, and the life of the poor soldier, sentenced to death for having fallen asleep upon his post, was thus saved. the man's name was hatfield. he died in in aldersgate, aged years. before the time of the present st. paul's, and as long ago as the reign of henry vii., there is on record a well-attested story of a young girl who, going to confess, was importuned by the monk then on his turn there for the purpose of confession in the building; and quickly escaping from him up the stairs of the great clock tower, raised the clapper or hammer of the bell of the clock, just as it had finished striking twelve, and, by means of the roof, eluded her assailant and got away. on accusing him, as soon as she reached her friends and home, she called attention to the fact of the clock having struck thirteen that time; and on those in the immediate neighbourhood of the cathedral being asked if so unusual a thing had been heard, they said it was so. this proved the story, and the monk was degraded. and here we must insert a curious story of a monomaniac whose madness was associated with st. paul's. dr. pritchard, in an essay on "somnambulism and animal magnetism," in the "cyclopædia of medicine," gives the following remarkable case of ecstasis:-- a gentleman about thirty-five years of age, of active habits and good constitution, living in the neighbourhood of london, had complained for about five weeks of a slight headache. he was feverish, inattentive to his occupation, and negligent of his family. he had been cupped, and taken some purgative medicine, when he was visited by dr. arnould, of camberwell. by that gentleman's advice, he was sent to a private asylum, where he remained about two years. his delusions very gradually subsided, and he was afterwards restored to his family. the account which he gave of himself was, almost _verbatim_ as follows:--one afternoon in the month of may, feeling himself a little unsettled, and not inclined to business, he thought he would take a walk into the city to amuse his mind; and having strolled into st. paul's churchyard, he stopped at the shop-window of carrington and bowles, and looked at the pictures, among which was one of the cathedral. he had not been long there before a short, grave-looking, elderly gentleman, dressed in dark brown clothes, came up and began to examine the prints, and, occasionally casting a glance at him, very soon entered into conversation with him; and, praising the view of st. paul's which was exhibited at the window, told him many anecdotes of sir christopher wren, the architect, and asked him at the same time if he had ever ascended to the top of the dome. he replied in the negative. the stranger then inquired if he had dined, and proposed that they should go to an eating-house in the neighbourhood, and said that after dinner he would accompany him up st. paul's. "it was a glorious afternoon for a view, and he was so familiar with the place that he could point out every object worthy of attention." the kindness of the old gentleman's manner induced him to comply with the invitation, and they went to a tavern in some dark alley, the name of which he did not know. they dined, and very soon left the table and ascended to the ball, just below the cross, which they entered alone. they had not been there many minutes when, while he was gazing on the extensive prospect, and delighted with the splendid scene below him, the grave gentleman pulled out from an inside coat-pocket something resembling a compass, having round the edges some curious figures. then, having muttered some unintelligible words, he placed it in the centre of the ball. he felt a great trembling and a sort of horror come over him, which was increased by his companion asking him if he should like to see any friend at a distance, and to know what he was at that moment doing, for if so the latter could show him any such person. it happened that his father had been for a long time in bad health, and for some weeks past he had not visited him. a sudden thought came into his mind, so powerful that it overcame his terror, that he should like to see his father. he had no sooner expressed the wish than the exact person of his father was immediately presented to his sight in the mirror, reclining in his arm-chair and taking his afternoon sleep. not having fully believed in the power of the stranger to make good his offer, he became overwhelmed with terror at the clearness and truth of the vision presented to him, and he entreated his mysterious companion that they might immediately descend, as he felt very ill. the request was complied with, and on parting under the portico of the northern entrance the stranger said to him, "remember, you are the slave of the man of the mirror!" he returned in the evening to his home, he does not know exactly at what hour; felt himself unquiet, depressed, gloomy, apprehensive, and haunted with thoughts of the stranger. for the last three months he has been conscious of the power of the latter over him. dr. arnould adds:--"i inquired in what way his power was exercised. he cast on me a look of suspicion, mingled with confidence, took my arm, and after leading me through two or three rooms, and then into the garden, exclaimed, 'it is of no use; there is no concealment from him, for all places are alike open to him; he sees us and he hears us now.' i asked him where this being was who saw and heard us. he replied, in a voice of deep agitation, 'have i not told you that he lives in the ball below the cross on the top of st. paul's, and that he only comes down to take a walk in the churchyard and get his dinner at the house in the dark alley? since that fatal interview with the necromancer,' he continued, 'for such i believe him to be, he is continually dragging me before him on his mirror, and he not only sees me every moment of the day, but he reads all my thoughts, and i have a dreadful consciousness that no action of my life is free from his inspection, and no place can afford me security from his power.' on my replying that the darkness of the night would afford him protection from these machinations, he said, 'i know what you mean, but you are quite mistaken. i have only told you of the mirror; but in some part of the building which we passed in coming away, he showed me what he called a great bell, and i heard sounds which came from it, and which went to it--sounds of laughter, and of anger, and of pain. there was a dreadful confusion of sounds, and as i listened, with wonder and affright, he said, 'this is my organ of hearing; this great bell is in communication with all other bells within the circle of hieroglyphics, by which every word spoken by those under my command is made audible to me.' seeing me look surprised at him, he said, 'i have not yet told you all, for he practises his spells by hieroglyphics on walls and houses, and wields his power, like a detestable tyrant, as he is, over the minds of those whom he has enchanted, and who are the objects of his constant spite, within the circle of the hieroglyphics.' i asked him what these hieroglyphics were, and how he perceived them. he replied, 'signs and symbols which you, in your ignorance of their true meaning, have taken for letters and words, and read, as you have thought, "day and martin's and warren's blacking."' 'oh! that is all nonsense!' 'they are only the mysterious characters which he traces to mark the boundary of his dominion, and by which he prevents all escape from his tremendous power. how have i toiled and laboured to get beyond the limit of his influence! once i walked for three days and three nights, till i fell down under a wall, exhausted by fatigue, and dropped asleep; but on awakening i saw the dreadful signs before mine eyes, and i felt myself as completely under his infernal spells at the end as at the beginning of my journey.'" [illustration: the scaffolding and observatory on st. paul's in (_see page _).] [illustration: st. paul's and the neighbourhood in . _from a copy, in the possession of f.g. crace, esq., of the earliest known view of london, taken by van der wyngarde for philip ii. of spain._] it is probable that this gentleman had actually ascended to the top of st. paul's, and that impressions there received, being afterwards renewed in his mind when in a state of vivid excitement, in a dream of ecstatic reverie, became so blended with the creations of fancy as to form one mysterious vision, in which the true and the imaginary were afterwards inseparable. such, at least, is the best explanation of the phenomena which occurs to us. in the fees for seeing st. paul's completely were s. d. each person. in the mere twopences paid to see the forty monuments produced the four vergers the sum of £ s. d. these exorbitant fees originated in the "stairs-foot money" started by jennings, the carpenter, in , as a fund for the injured during the building of the cathedral. the staff of the cathedral consists of the dean, the precentor, the chancellor, the treasurer, the five archdeacons of london, middlesex, essex, colchester, and st. albans, thirty major canons or prebendaries (four of whom are resident), twelve minor canons, and six vicars-choral, besides the choristers. one of the vicars-choral officiates as organist, and three of the minor canons hold the appointments of sub-dean, librarian, and succentor, or under-precentor. three of the most celebrated men connected with st. paul's in the last century have been milman, sydney smith, and barham (the author of "ingoldsby legends"). smith and barham both died in . of sydney smith's connection with st. paul's we have many interesting records. one of the first things lord grey said on entering downing street, to a relation who was with him, was, "now i shall be able to do something for sydney smith," and shortly after he was appointed by the premier to a prebendal stall at st. paul's, in exchange for the one he held at bristol. mr. cockerell, the architect, and superintendent of st. paul's cathedral, in a letter printed in lady holland's "memoir," describes the _gesta_ of the canon residentiary; how his early communications with himself (mr. c.) and all the officers of the chapter were extremely unpleasant; but when the canon had investigated the matter, and there had been "a little collision," nothing could be more candid and kind than his subsequent treatment. he examined the prices of all the materials used in the repairs of the cathedral--as portland stone, putty, and white lead; every item was taxed, payments were examined, and nothing new could be undertaken without his survey and personal superintendence. he surveyed the pinnacles and heights of the sacred edifice; and once, when it was feared he might stick fast in a narrow opening of the western towers, he declared that "if there were six inches of space there would be room enough for him." the insurance of the magnificent cathedral, mr. cockerell tells us, engaged his early attention; st. paul's was speedily and effectually insured in some of the most substantial offices in london. not satisfied with this security, he advised the introduction of the mains of the new river into the lower parts of the fabric, and cisterns and movable engines in the roof; and quite justifiable was his joke, that "he would reproduce the deluge in our cathedral." he had also the library heated by a stove, so as to be more comfortable to the studious; and the bindings of the books were repaired. lastly, mr. smith materially assisted the progress of a suit in chancery, by the successful result of which a considerable addition was made to the fabric fund. it is very gratifying to read these circumstantial records of the practical qualities of mr. sydney smith, as applied to the preservation of our magnificent metropolitan cathedral. before we leave mr. smith we may record an odd story of lady b. calling the vergers "virgins." she asked mr. smith, one day, if it was true that he walked down st. paul's with three virgins holding silver pokers before him. he shook his head and looked very grave, and bade her come and see. "some enemy of the church," he said, "some dissenter, had clearly been misleading her." let us recapitulate a few of the english poets who have made special allusions to st. paul's in their writings. denham says of the restoration of st. paul's, began by charles i.:-- "first salutes the place, crowned with that sacred pile, so vast, so high, that whether 'tis a part of earth or sky uncertain seems, and may be thought a proud aspiring mountain or descending cloud. paul's, the late theme of such a muse, whose flight has bravely reached and soared above thy height, now shalt thou stand, though sword, or time, or fire, or zeal more fierce than they, thy fall conspire; secure, while thee the best of poets sings, preserved from ruin by the best of kings." byron, in the tenth canto of "don juan," treats st. paul's contemptuously--sneering, as was his affectation, at everything, human or divine:-- "a mighty mass of brick, and smoke, and shipping, dirty and dusky, but as wide as eye could reach, with here and there a sail just skipping in sight, then lost amidst the forestry of masts; a wilderness of steeples peeping on tiptoe through their sea-coal canopy; a huge, dim cupola, like a foolscap crown on a fool's head--and there is london town!" among other english poets who have sung of st. paul's, we must not forget tom hood, with his delightfully absurd ode, written on the cross, and full of most wise folly:-- "the man that pays his pence and goes up to thy lofty cross, st. paul's, looks over london's naked nose, women and men; the world is all beneath his ken; he sits above the ball, he seems on mount olympus' top, among the gods, by jupiter! and lets drop his eyes from the empyreal clouds on mortal crowds. "seen from these skies, how small those emmets in our eyes! some carry little sticks, and one his eggs, to warm them in the sun; dear, what a hustle and bustle! and there's my aunt! i know her by her waist, so long and thin, and so pinch'd in, just in the pismire taste. "oh, what are men! beings so small that, should i fall, upon their little heads, i must crush them by hundreds into dust. "and what is life and all its ages! there's seven stages! turnham green! chelsea! putney! fulham! brentford and kew! and tooting, too! and, oh, what very little nags to pull 'em! yet each would seem a horse indeed, if here at paul's tip-top we'd got 'em! although, like cinderella's breed, they're mice at bottom. then let me not despise a horse, though he looks small from paul's high cross; since he would be, as near the sky, fourteen hands high. "what is this world with london in its lap? mogg's map. the thames that ebbs and flows in its broad channel? a _tidy_ kennel! the bridges stretching from its banks? stone planks. oh, me! hence could i read an admonition to mad ambition! but that he would not listen to my call, though i should stand upon the cross, and _ball_!" we can hardly close our account of st. paul's without referring to that most beautiful and touching of all london sights, the anniversary of the charity schools on the first thursday in june. about , children are generally present, ranged in a vast amphitheatre under the dome. blake, the true but unrecognised predecessor of wordsworth, has written an exquisite little poem on the scene, and well it deserves it. such nosegays of little rosy faces can be seen on no other day. very grand and overwhelming are the beadles of st. mary axe and st. margaret moses on this tremendous morning, and no young ensign ever bore his colours prouder than do these good-natured dignitaries their maces, staves, and ponderous badges. in endless ranks pour in the children, clothed in all sorts of quaint dresses. boys in the knee-breeches of hogarth's school-days, bearing glittering pewter badges on their coats; girls in blue and orange, with quaint little mob-caps white as snow, and long white gloves covering all their little arms. see, at a given signal of an extraordinary fugleman, how they all rise; at another signal how they hustle down. then at last, when the "old hundredth" begins, all the little voices unite as the blending of many waters. such fresh, happy voices, singing with such innocent, heedful tenderness as would bring tears to the eyes of even stony-hearted old malthus, bring to the most irreligious thoughts of him who bade little children come to him, and would not have them repulsed. blake's poem begins-- "'twas on a holy thursday, their innocent faces clean, came children walking two and two, in red and blue and green; grey-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow, till into the high dome of paul's they like thames' waters flow. "oh, what a multitude they seemed, those flowers of london town; seated in companies they were, with radiance all their own; the hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, thousands of little boys and girls, raising their innocent hands. "now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among; beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor; then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door." the anniversary festival of the sons of the clergy, in the middle of may, when the choirs of westminster and the chapel royal sing selections from handel and other great masters, is also a day not easily to be forgotten, for st. paul's is excellent for sound, and the fine music rises like incense to the dome, and lingers there as "loth to die," arousing thoughts that, as wordsworth beautifully says, are in themselves proofs of our immortality. it is on such occasions we feel how great a genius reared st. paul's, and cry out with the poet-- "he thought not of a perishable home who thus could build." chapter xxii. st. paul's churchyard. st. paul's churchyard and literature--queen anne's statue--execution of a jesuit in st. paul's churchyard--miracle of the "face in the straw"--wilkinson's story--newbery the bookseller--paul's chain--"cocker"--chapter house of st. paul's--st. paul's coffee house--child's coffee house and the clergy--garrick's club at the "queen's arms," and the company there--"sir benjamin" figgins--johnson the bookseller--hunter and his guests--fuseli--bonnycastle--kinnaird--musical associations of the churchyard--jeremiah clark and his works--handel at meares' shop--young the violin maker--the "castle" concerts--an old advertisement--wren at the "goose and gridiron"--st. paul's school--famous paulines--pepys visiting his old school--milton at st. paul's. the shape of st. paul's churchyard has been compared to that of a bow and a string. the south side is the bow, the north the string. the booksellers overflowing from fleet street mustered strong here, till the fire scared them off to little britain, from whence they regurgitated to the row. at the sign of the "white greyhound" the first editions of shakespeare's "venus and adonis" and "the rape of lucrece," the first-fruits of a great harvest, were published by john harrison. at the "flower de luce" and the "crown" appeared the _merry wives of windsor_; at the "green dragon," in the same locality, the _merchant of venice_; at the "fox," _richard ii._; at the "angel," _richard iii._; at the "gun," _titus andronicus_; and at the "red bull," that masterpiece, _king lear_. so that in this area near the row the great poet must have paced with his first proofs in his doublet-pocket, wondering whether he should ever rival spenser, or become immortal, like chaucer. here he must have come smiling over falstaff's perils, and here have walked with the ripened certainty of greatness and of fame stirring at his heart. the ground-plot of the cathedral is acres perches feet. the western area of the churchyard marks the site of st. gregory's church. on the mean statue of queen anne a scurrilous epigram was once written by some ribald jacobite, who spoke of the queen-- "with her face to the brandy-shop and her back to the church." the precinct wall of st. paul's first ran from ave maria lane eastward along paternoster row to the old exchange, cheapside, and then southwards to carter lane, at the end of which it turned to ludgate archway. in the reign of edward ii. the dean and chapter, finding the precinct a resort of thieves and courtesans, rebuilt and purified it. within, at the north-west corner, stood the bishop's palace, beyond which, eastward, was pardon churchyard and becket chapel, rebuilt with a stately cloister in the reign of henry v. on the walls of this cloister, pulled down by the greedy protector somerset (edward vi.), was painted one of those grim dances of death which holbein at last carried to perfection. the cloister was full of monuments, and above was a library. in an enclosure east of this stood the college of minor canons; and at canon alley, east, was a burial chapel called the charnel, from whence somerset sent cart-loads of bones to finsbury fields. east of canon alley stood paul's cross, where open-air sermons were preached to the citizens, and often to the reigning monarch. east of it rose st. paul's school and a belfrey tower, in which hung the famous jesus bells, won at dice by sir giles partridge from that ahab of england, henry viii. on the south side stood the dean and chapter's garden, dormitory, refectory, kitchen, slaughterhouse, and brewery. these eventually yielded to a cloister, near which, abutting on the cathedral wall, stood the chapter-house and the church of st. gregory. westward were the houses of the residentiaries; and the deanery, according to milman, an excellent authority, stood on its present site. the precinct had six gates--the first and chief in ludgate street; the second in paul's alley, leading to paternoster row; the third in canon alley, leading to the north door; the fourth, a little gate leading to cheapside; the fifth, the augustine gate, leading to watling street; the sixth, on the south side, by paul's chain. on the south tower of the west front was the lollard's tower, a bishop's prison for ecclesiastical offenders. the , railings of the churchyard and the seven ornamental gates, weighing altogether two hundred tons, were cast in kent, and cost d. a pound. the whole cost £ , s. d. in st. paul's churchyard was the scene of the execution of father garnet, one of the gunpowder plot conspirators--the only execution, as far as we know, that ever desecrated that spot. it is very doubtful, after all, whether garnet was cognizant that the plot was really to be carried out, though he may have strongly suspected some dangerous and deadly conspiracy, and the roman catholics were prepared to see miracles wrought at his death. on the rd day of may, (to condense dr. abbott's account), garnet was drawn upon a hurdle, according to the usual practice, to his place of execution. the recorder of london, the dean of st. paul's, and the dean of winchester were present, by command of the king--the former in the king's name, and the two latter in the name of god and christ, to assist garnet with such advice as suited the condition of a dying man. as soon as he had ascended the scaffold, which was much elevated in order that the people might behold the spectacle, garnet saluted the recorder somewhat familiarly, who told him that "it was expected from him that he should publicly deliver his real opinion respecting the conspiracy and treason; that it was now of no use to dissemble, as all was clearly and manifestly proved; but that if, in the true spirit of repentance, he was willing to satisfy the christian world by declaring his hearty compunction, he might freely state what he pleased." the deans then told him that they were present on that occasion by authority, in order to suggest to him such matters as might be useful for his soul; that they desired to do this without offence, and exhorted him to prepare and settle himself for another world, and to commence his reconciliation with god by a sincere and saving repentance. to this exhortation garnet replied "that he had already done so, and that he had before satisfied himself in this respect." the clergymen then suggested "that he would do well to declare his mind to the people." then garnet said to those near him, "i always disapproved of tumults and seditions against the king, and if this crime of the powder treason had been completed i should have abhorred it with my whole soul and conscience." they then advised him to declare as much to the people. "i am very weak," said he, "and my voice fails me. if i should speak to the people, i cannot make them hear me; it is impossible that they should hear me." then said mr. recorder, "mr. garnet, if you will come with me, i will take care that they shall hear you," and, going before him, led him to the western end of the scaffold. he still hesitated to address the people, but the recorder urged him to speak his mind freely, promising to repeat his words aloud to the multitude. garnet then addressed the crowd as follows:--"my good fellow-citizens,--i am come hither, on the morrow of the invention of the holy cross, to see an end of all my pains and troubles in this world. i here declare before you all that i consider the late treason and conspiracy against the state to be cruel and detestable; and, for my part, all designs and endeavours against the king were ever misliked by me; and if this attempt had been perfected, as it was designed, i think it would have been altogether damnable; and i pray for all prosperity to the king, the queen, and the royal family." here he paused, and the recorder reminded him to ask pardon of the king for that which he had attempted. "i do so," said garnet, "as far as i have sinned against him--namely, in that i did not reveal that whereof i had a general knowledge from mr. catesby, but not otherwise." then said the dean of winchester, "mr. garnet, i pray you deal clearly in the matter: you were certainly privy to the whole business." "god forbid!" said garnet; "i never understood anything of the design of blowing up the parliament house." "nay," responded the dean of winchester, "it is manifest that all the particulars were known to you, and you have declared under your own hand that greenaway told you all the circumstances in essex." "that," said garnet, "was in secret confession, which i could by no means reveal." then said the dean, "you have yourself, mr. garnet, almost acknowledged that this was only a pretence, for you have openly confessed that greenaway told you not in a confession, but by way of a confession, and that he came of purpose to you with the design of making a confession; but you answered that it was not necessary you should know the full extent of his knowledge." the dean further reminded him that he had affirmed under his own hand that this was not told him by way of confessing a sin, but by way of conference and consultation; and that greenaway and catesby both came to confer with him upon that business, and that as often as he saw greenaway he would ask him about that business because it troubled him. "most certainly," said garnet; "i did so in order to prevent it, for i always misliked it." then said the dean, "you only withheld your approbation until the pope had given his opinion." "but i was well persuaded," said garnet, "that the pope would never approve the design." "your intention," said the dean of winchester, "was clear from those two breves which you received from rome for the exclusion of the king." "that," said garnet, "was before the king came in." "but if you knew nothing of the particulars of the business," said the dean, "why did you send baynham to inform the pope? for this also you have confessed in your examinations." garnet replied, "i have already answered to all these matters on my trial, and i acknowledge everything that is contained in my written confessions." [illustration: the library of st. paul's (_see page _).] then, turning his discourse again to the people, at the instance of the recorder, he proceeded to the same effect as before, declaring "that he wholly misliked that cruel and inhuman design, and that he had never sanctioned or approved of any such attempts against the king and state, and that this project, if it had succeeded, would have been in his mind most damnable." [illustration: "the face in the straw."--from abbot's "anthologia," (_see page _).] having thus spoken, he raised his hands, and made the sign of the cross upon his forehead and breast, saying, "_in nomine patris, filii, et spiritus sancti! jesus maria! maria, mater gratiæ! mater misericordiæ! tu me ab hoste protege, et hora mortis suscipe!_" then he said, "_in manus tuas, domine, commendo spiritum meum, quia tu redemisti me, domine, deus veritatis!_" then, again crossing himself, he said, "_per crucis hoc signum fugiat procul omne malignum! infige crucem tuam, domine, in corde meo;_" and again, "_jesus maria! maria, mater gratiæ!_" in the midst of these prayers the ladder was drawn away, and, by the express command of the king, he remained hanging from the gallows until he was quite dead. the "face in the straw" was a miracle said to be performed at garnet's death. the original fabricator of the miracle of the straw was one john wilkinson, a young roman catholic, who at the time of garnet's trial and execution was about to pass over into france, to commence his studies at the jesuits' college at st. omer's. some time after his arrival there, wilkinson was attacked by a dangerous disease, from which there was no hope of his recovery; and while in this state he gave utterance to the story, which endæmon-joannes relates in his own words, as follows:--"the day before father garnet's execution my mind was suddenly impressed (as by some external impulse) with a strong desire to witness his death, and bring home with me some relic of him. i had at that time conceived so certain a persuasion that my design would be gratified, that i did not for a moment doubt that i should witness some immediate testimony from god in favour of the innocence of his saint; though as often as the idea occurred to my mind, i endeavoured to drive it away, that i might not vainly appear to tempt providence by looking for a miracle where it was not necessarily to be expected. early the next morning i betook myself to the place of execution, and, arriving there before any other person, stationed myself close to the scaffold, though i was afterwards somewhat forced from my position as the crowd increased." having then described the details of the execution, he proceeds thus:--"garnet's limbs having been divided into four parts, and placed, together with the head, in a basket, in order that they might be exhibited, according to law, in some conspicuous place, the crowd began to disperse. i then again approached close to the scaffold, and stood between the cart and place of execution; and as i lingered in that situation, still burning with the desire of bearing away some relic, that miraculous ear of straw, since so highly celebrated, came, i know not how, into my hand. a considerable quantity of dry straw had been thrown with garnet's head and quarters into the basket, but whether this ear came into my hand from the scaffold or from the basket i cannot venture to affirm; this only i can truly say, that a straw of this kind was thrown towards me before it had touched the ground. this straw i afterwards delivered to mrs. n----, a matron of singular catholic piety, who inclosed it in a bottle, which being rather shorter than the straw, it became slightly bent. a few days afterwards mrs. n---- showed the straw in a bottle to a certain noble person, her intimate acquaintance, who, looking at it attentively, at length said, 'i can see nothing in it but a man's face.' mrs. n---- and myself being astonished at this unexpected exclamation, again and again examined the ear of the straw, and distinctly perceived in it a human countenance, which others also, coming in as casual spectators, or expressly called by us as witnesses, likewise beheld at that time. this is, as god knoweth, the true history of father garnet's straw." the engraving upon the preceding page is taken from abbot's "anthologia," published in , in which a full account of the "miracle" is given. at , st. paul's churchyard, north-west corner, lived the worthy predecessor of messrs. grant and griffith, goldsmith's friend and employer, mr. john newbery, that good-natured man with the red-pimpled face, who, as the philanthropic bookseller, figures pleasantly in the "vicar of wakefield;" always in haste to be gone, he was ever on business of the utmost importance, and was at that time actually compiling materials for the history of one thomas trip. "the friend of all mankind," dr. primrose calls him. "the honestest man in the nation," as goldsmith said of him in a doggerel riddle which he wrote. newbery's nephew printed the "vicar of wakefield" for goldsmith, and the elder newbery published the "traveller," the corner-stone of goldsmith's fame. it was the elder newbery who unearthed the poet at his miserable lodgings in green arbour court, and employed him to write his "citizens of the world," at a guinea each, for his daily newspaper, the _public ledger_ ( ). the newberys seem to have been worthy, prudent tradesmen, constantly vexed and irritated at goldsmith's extravagance, carelessness, and ceaseless cry for money; and so it went on till the hare-brained, delightful fellow died, when francis newbery wrote a violent defence of the fever medicine, an excess of which had killed goldsmith. the office of the registrar of the high court of admiralty occupied the site of the old cathedral bakehouse. paul's chain is so called from a chain that used to be drawn across the carriage-way of the churchyard, to preserve silence during divine service. the northern barrier of st. paul's is of wood. opposite the chain, in (the restoration), lived that king of writing and arithmetic masters, the man whose name has grown into a proverb--edward cocker--who wrote "the pen's transcendancy," an extraordinary proof of true eye and clever hand. in the chapter house of st. paul's, which mr. peter cunningham not too severely calls "a shabby, dingy-looking building," on the north side of the churchyard, was performed the unjust ceremony of degrading samuel johnson, the chaplain to william lord russell, the martyr of the party of liberty. the divines present, in compassion, and with a prescient eye for the future, purposely omitted to strip off his cassock, which rendered the ceremony imperfect, and afterwards saved the worthy man his benefice. st. paul's coffee house stood at the corner of the archway of doctors' commons, on the site of "paul's brew house" and the "paul's head" tavern. here, in , the books of the great collector, dr. rawlinson, were sold, "after dinner;" and they sold well. child's coffee house, in st. paul's churchyard, was a quiet place, much frequented by the clergy of queen anne's reign, and by proctors from doctors' commons. addison used to look in there, to smoke a pipe and listen, behind his paper, to the conversation. in the _spectator_, no. , he smiles at a country gentleman who mistook all persons in scarves for doctors of divinity. this was at a time when clergymen always wore their black gowns in public. "only a scarf of the first magnitude," he says, "entitles one to the appellation of 'doctor' from the landlady and the boy at 'child's.'" "child's" was the resort of dr. mead, and other professional men of eminence. the fellows of the royal society came here. whiston relates that sir hans sloane, dr. halley, and he were once at "child's," when dr. halley asked him (whiston) why he was not a member of the royal society? whiston answered, "because they durst not choose a heretic." upon which dr. halley said, if sir hans sloane would propose him, he (dr. halley) would second it, which was done accordingly. garrick, who kept up his interest with different coteries, carefully cultivated the city men, by attending a club held at the "queen's arms" tavern, in st. paul's churchyard. here he used to meet mr. sharpe, a surgeon; mr. paterson, the city solicitor; mr. draper, a bookseller, and mr. clutterbuck, a mercer; and these quiet cool men were his standing council in theatrical affairs, and his gauge of the city taste. they were none of them drinkers, and in order to make a reckoning, called only for french wine. here dr. johnson started a city club, and was particular the members should not be "patriotic." boswell, who went with him to the "queen's arms" club, found the members "very sensible, well-behaved men." brasbridge, the silversmith of fleet street, who wrote his memoirs, has described a sixpenny card club held here at a later date. among the members was that generous and hospitable man, henry baldwin, who, under the auspices of garrick, the elder colman, and bonnell thornton, started the _st. james's chronicle_, the most popular evening paper of the day. "i belonged," says brasbridge, "to a sixpenny card club, at the 'queen's arms,' in st. paul's churchyard; it consisted of about twenty members, of whom i am the sole survivor. among them was mr. goodwin, of st. paul's churchyard, a woollen draper, whose constant salutation, when he first came downstairs in the morning, was to his shop, in these words, 'good morrow, mr. shop; you'll take care of me, mr. shop, and i'll take care of you.' another was mr. curtis, a respectable stationer, who from very small beginnings left his son £ , in one line, besides an estate of near £ a year." "the 'free and easy under the rose' was another society which i frequented. it was founded sixty years ago, at the 'queen's arms,' in st. paul's churchyard, and was afterwards removed to the 'horn' tavern. it was originally kept by bates, who was never so happy as when standing behind a chair with a napkin under his arm; but arriving at the dignity of alderman, tucking in his callipash and calipee himself, instead of handing it round to the company, soon did his business. my excellent friend briskett, the marshal of the high court of admiralty, was president of this society for many years, and i was constantly in attendance as his vice. it consisted of some thousand members, and i never heard of any one of them that ever incurred any serious punishment. our great fault was sitting too late; in this respect, according to the principle of franklin, that 'time is money,' we were most unwary spendthrifts; in other instances, our conduct was orderly and correct." one of the members in brasbridge's time was mr. hawkins, a worthy but ill-educated spatterdash maker, of chancery lane, who daily murdered the king's english. he called an invalid an "individual," and said our troops in america had been "_manured_" to hardship. another oddity was a mr. darwin, a radical, who one night brought to the club-room a caricature of the head of george iii. in a basket; and whom brasbridge nearly frightened out of his wits by pretending to send one of the waiters for the city marshal. darwin was the great chum of mr. figgins, a wax-chandler in the poultry; and as they always entered the room together, brasbridge gave them the nickname of "liver and gizzard." miss boydell, when her uncle was lord mayor, conferred sham knighthood on figgins, with a tap of her fan, and he was henceforward known as "sir benjamin." the churchyard publisher of cowper's first volume of poems, "table talk," and also of "the task," was a very worthy, liberal man--joseph johnson, who also published the "olney hymns" for newton, the scientific writings of the persecuted priestley, and the smooth, vapid verses of darwin. johnson encouraged fuseli to paint a milton gallery, for an edition of the poet to be edited by cowper. johnson was imprisoned nine months in the king's bench, for selling the political writings of gilbert wakefield. he, however, bore the oppression of the majority philosophically, and rented the marshal's house, where he gave dinners to his distinguished literary friends. "another set of my acquaintances," says leigh hunt in his autobiography, "used to assemble on fridays at the hospitable table of mr. hunter, the bookseller, in st. paul's churchyard. they were the survivors of the literary party that were accustomed to dine with his predecessor, mr. johnson. the most regular were fuseli and bonnycastle. now and then godwin was present; oftener mr. kinnaird, the magistrate, a great lover of horace. "fuseli was a small man, with energetic features and a white head of hair. our host's daughter, then a little girl, used to call him the white-headed lion. he combed his hair up from the forehead, and as his whiskers were large his face was set in a kind of hairy frame, which, in addition to the fierceness of his look, really gave him an aspect of that sort. otherwise his features were rather sharp than round. he would have looked much like an old military officer if his face, besides its real energy, had not affected more. there was the same defect in it as in his pictures. conscious of not having all the strength he wished, he endeavoured to make up for it by violence and pretension. he carried this so far as to look fiercer than usual when he sat for his picture. his friend and engraver, mr. houghton, drew an admirable likeness of him in this state of dignified extravagance. he is sitting back in his chair, leaning on his hand, but looking ready to pounce withal. his notion of repose was like that of pistol. "a student reading in a garden is all over intensity of muscle, and the quiet tea-table scene in cowper he has turned into a preposterous conspiracy of huge men and women, all bent on showing their thews and postures, with dresses as fantastic as their minds. one gentleman, of the existence of whose trousers you are not aware till you see the terminating line at the ankle, is sitting and looking grim on a sofa, with his hat on and no waistcoat. "fuseli was lively and interesting in conversation, but not without his usual faults of violence and pretension. nor was he always as decorous as an old man ought to be, especially one whose turn of mind is not of the lighter and more pleasurable cast. the licences he took were coarse, and had not sufficient regard to his company. certainly they went a great deal beyond his friend armstrong, to whose account, i believe, fuseli's passion for swearing was laid. the poet condescended to be a great swearer, and fuseli thought it energetic to swear like him. his friendship with bonnycastle had something childlike and agreeable in it. they came and went away together for years, like a couple of old schoolboys. they also like boys rallied one another, and sometimes made a singular display of it--fuseli, at least, for it was he who was the aggressor. "bonnycastle was a good fellow. he was a tall, gaunt, long-headed man, with large features and spectacles, and a deep internal voice, with a twang of rusticity in it; and he goggled over his plate like a horse. i often thought that a bag of corn would have hung well on him. his laugh was equine, and showed his teeth upwards at the sides. wordsworth, who notices similar mysterious manifestations on the part of donkeys, would have thought it ominous. bonnycastle was extremely fond of quoting shakespeare and telling stories, and if the _edinburgh review_ had just come out, would have given us all the jokes in it. he had once a hypochondriacal disorder of long duration, and he told us that he should never forget the comfortable sensation given him one night during this disorder by his knocking a landlord that was insolent to him down the man's staircase. on the strength of this piece of energy (having first ascertained that the offender was not killed) he went to bed, and had a sleep of unusual soundness. "it was delightful one day to hear him speak with complacency of a translation which had appeared in arabic, and which began by saying, on the part of the translator, that it pleased god, for the advancement of human knowledge, to raise us up a bonnycastle. "kinnaird, the magistrate, was a sanguine man, under the middle height, with a fine lamping black eye, lively to the last, and a body that 'had increased, was increasing, and ought to have been diminished,' which is by no means what he thought of the prerogative. next to his bottle, he was fond of his horace, and, in the intervals of business at the police office, would enjoy both in his arm-chair. between the vulgar calls of this kind of magistracy and the perusal of the urbane horace there must have been a quota of contradiction, which the bottle, perhaps, was required to render quite palatable." mr. charles knight's pleasant book, "shadows of the old booksellers," also reminds us of another of the great churchyard booksellers, john rivington and sons, at the "bible and crown." they published, in , an early sermon of whitefield's, before he left the church, and were booksellers to the society for promoting christian knowledge; and to this shop country clergymen invariably went to buy their theology, or to publish their own sermons. in st. paul's churchyard (says sir john hawkins, in his "history of music") were formerly many shops where music and musical instruments were sold, for which, at this time, no better reason can be given than that the service at the cathedral drew together, twice a day, all the lovers of music in london--not to mention that the choirmen were wont to assemble there, and were met by their friends and acquaintances. jeremiah clark, a composer of sacred music, who shot himself in his house in st. paul's churchyard, was educated in the royal chapel, under dr. blow, who entertained so great a friendship for him as to resign in his favour his place of master of the children and almoner of st. paul's, clark being appointed his successor, in , and shortly afterwards he became organist of the cathedral. "in july, ," says sir john hawkins, "he and his fellow pupils were appointed gentlemen extraordinary of the royal chapel; and in they were jointly admitted to the place of organist thereof, in the room of mr. francis piggot. clark had the misfortune to entertain a hopeless passion for a very beautiful lady, in a station of life far above him; his despair of success threw him into a deep melancholy; in short, he grew weary of his life, and on the first day of december, , shot himself. he was determined upon this method of putting an end to his life by an event which, strange as it may seem, is attested by the late mr. samuel weeley, one of the lay-vicars of st. paul's, who was very intimate with him, and had heard him relate it. being at the house of a friend in the country, he took an abrupt resolution to return to london; this friend having observed in his behaviour marks of great dejection, furnished him with a horse and a servant. riding along the road, a fit of melancholy seized him, upon which he alighted, and giving the servant his horse to hold, went into a field, in a corner whereof was a pond, and also trees, and began a debate with himself whether he should then end his days by hanging or drowning. not being able to resolve on either, he thought of making what he looked upon as chance the umpire, and drew out of his pocket a piece of money, and tossing it into the air, it came down on its edge, and stuck in the clay. though the determination answered not his wish, it was far from ambiguous, as it seemed to forbid both methods of destruction, and would have given unspeakable comfort to a mind less disordered than his was. being thus interrupted in his purpose, he returned, and mounting his horse, rode on to london, and in a short time after shot himself. he dwelt in a house in st. paul's churchyard, situate on the place where the chapter-house now stands. old mr. reading was passing by at the instant the pistol went off, and entering the house, found his friend in the agonies of death. "the compositions of clark are few. his anthems are remarkably pathetic, at the same time that they preserve the dignity and majesty of the church style. the most celebrated of them are 'i will love thee,' printed in the second book of the 'harmonia sacra;' 'bow down thine ear,' and 'praise the lord, o jerusalem.' "the only works of clark published by himself are lessons for the harpsichord and sundry songs, which are to be found in the collections of that day, particularly in the 'pills to purge melancholy,' but they are there printed without the basses. he also composed for d'urfey's comedy of 'the fond husband, or the plotting sisters,' that sweet ballad air, 'the bonny grey-eyed morn,' which mr. gay has introduced into 'the beggar's opera,' and is sung to the words, ''tis woman that seduces all mankind.'" "mattheson, of hamburg," says hawkins, "had sent over to england, in order to their being published here, two collections of lessons for the harpsichord, and they were accordingly engraved on copper, and printed for richard meares, in st. paul's churchyard, and published in the year . handel was at this time in london, and in the afternoon was used to frequent st. paul's church for the sake of hearing the service, and of playing on the organ after it was over; from whence he and some of the gentlemen of the choir would frequently adjourn to the 'queen's arms' tavern, in st. paul's churchyard, where was a harpsichord. it happened one afternoon, when they were thus met together, mr. weeley, a gentleman of the choir, came in and informed them that mr. mattheson's lessons were then to be had at mr. meares's shop; upon which mr. handel ordered them immediately to be sent for, and upon their being brought, played them all over without rising from the instrument." "there dwelt," says sir john hawkins, "at the west corner of london house yard, in st. paul's churchyard, at the sign of the 'dolphin and crown,' one john young, a maker of violins and other musical instruments. this man had a son, whose christian name was talbot, who had been brought up with greene in st. paul's choir, and had attained to great proficiency on the violin, as greene had on the harpsichord. the merits of the two youngs, father and son, are celebrated in the following quibbling verses, which were set to music in the form of a catch, printed in the pleasant 'musical companion,' published in :-- "'you scrapers that want a good fiddle well strung, you must go to the man that is old while he's young; but if this same fiddle you fain would play bold, you must go to his son, who'll be young when he's old. there's old young and young young, both men of renown, old sells and young plays the best fiddle in town. young and old live together, and may they live long, young to play an old fiddle, old to sell a new song.' [illustration: execution of father garnet (_see page _.]) "this young man, talbot young, together with greene and several persons, had weekly meetings at his father's house, for practice of music. the fame of this performance spread far and wide; and in a few winters the resort of gentlemen performers was greater than the house would admit of; a small subscription was set on foot, and they removed to the 'queen's head' tavern, in paternoster row. here they were joined by mr. woolaston and his friends, and also by a mr. franckville, a fine performer on the viol de gamba. and after a few winters, being grown rich enough to hire additional performers, they removed, in the year , to the 'castle,' in paternoster row, which was adorned with a picture of mr. young, painted by woolaston. [illustration: old st. paul's school (_see page _).] "the 'castle' concerts continuing to flourish for many years, auditors as well as performers were admitted subscribers, and tickets were delivered out to the members in rotation for the admission of ladies. their fund enabling them, they hired second-rate singers from the operas, and many young persons of professions and trades that depended upon a numerous acquaintance, were induced by motives of interest to become members of the 'castle' concert. "mr. young continued to perform in this society till the declining state of his health obliged him to quit it; after which time prospero castrucci and other eminent performers in succession continued to lead the band. about the year , at the instance of an alderman of london, now deservedly forgotten, the subscription was raised from two guineas to five, for the purpose of performing oratorios. from the 'castle' this society removed to haberdashers' hall, where they continued for fifteen or sixteen years; from thence they removed to the' king's arms,' in cornhill." a curious old advertisement of relates to st. paul's alley:--"whereas the yearly meeting of the name of adam hath of late, through the deficiency of the last stewards, been neglected, these are to give notice to all gentlemen and others that are of that name that at william adam's, commonly called the 'northern ale-house,' in st. paul's alley, in st. paul's churchyard, there will be a weekly meeting, every monday night, of our namesakes, between the hours of six and eight of the clock in the evening, in order to choose stewards to revive our antient and annual feast."--_domestic intelligence_, . during the building of st. paul's, wren was the zealous master of the st. paul's freemason's lodge, which assembled at the "goose and gridiron," one of the most ancient lodges in london. he presided regularly at its meetings for upwards of eighteen years. he presented the lodge with three beautifully carved mahogany candlesticks, and the trowel and mallet which he used in laying the first stone of the great cathedral in . in wren was elected grand master of the order, and he nominated his old fellow-workers at st. paul's, cibber, the sculptor, and strong, the master mason, grand wardens. in queen anne's reign there were lodges--eighty-six in london, thirty-six in provincial cities, and seven abroad. many of the oldest lodges in london are in the neighbourhood of st. paul's. "at the 'apple tree' tavern," say messrs. hotten and larwood, in their history of "inn and tavern signs," "in charles street, covent garden, in , four of the leading london freemasons' lodges, considering themselves neglected by sir christopher wren, met and chose a grand master, _pro tem._, until they should be able to place a noble brother at the head, which they did the year following, electing the duke of montague. sir christopher had been chosen in . the three lodges that joined with the 'apple tree' lodge used to meet respectively at the 'goose and gridiron,' st. paul's churchyard; the 'crown,' parker's lane; and at the 'rummer and grapes' tavern, westminster. the 'goose and gridiron' occurs at woodhall, lincolnshire, and in a few other localities. it is said to owe its origin to the following circumstances--the 'mitre' was a celebrated music-house in london house yard, at the north-west end of st. paul's. when it ceased to be a music-house, the succeeding landlord, to ridicule its former destiny, chose for his sign a goose striking the bars of a gridiron with his foot, in ridicule of the 'swan and harp,' a common sign for the early music-houses. such an origin does the _tatler_ give; but it may also be a vernacular reading of the coat of arms of the company of musicians, suspended probably at the door of the 'mitre' when it was a music-house. these arms are a swan with his wings expanded, within a double tressure, counter, flory, argent. this double tressure might have suggested a gridiron to unsophisticated passers-by. "the celebrated 'mitre,' near the west end of st. paul's, was the first music-house in london. the name of the master was robert herbert, _alias_ farges. like many brother publicans, he was, besides being a lover of music, also a collector of natural curiosities, as appears by his 'catalogue of many natural rarities, collected with great industrie, cost, and thirty years' travel into foreign countries, collected by robert herbert, _alias_ farges, gent., and sworn servant to his majesty; to be seen at the place called the music-house, _at the mitre_, near the west end of s. paul's church, .' this collection, or, at least, a great part of it, was bought by sir hans sloane. it is conjectured that the 'mitre' was situated in london house yard, at the north-west end of st. paul's, on the spot where afterwards stood the house known by the sign of the 'goose and gridiron.'" st. paul's school, known to cathedral visitors chiefly by that murky, barred-in, purgatorial playground opposite the east end of wren's great edifice, is of considerable antiquity, for it was founded in by that zealous patron of learning, and friend of erasmus, dean colet. this liberal-minded man was the eldest of twenty-two children, all of whom he survived. his father was a city mercer, who was twice lord mayor of london. colet became dean of st. paul's in , and soon afterwards (as latimer tells us) narrowly escaped burning for his opposition to image-worship. having no near relatives, colet, in , began to found st. paul's school, adapted to receive poor boys (the number of fishes taken by peter in the miraculous draught). the building is said to have cost £ , , and was endowed with lands in buckinghamshire estimated by stow, in , as of the yearly value of £ or better, and now worth £ , , with a certainty of rising. no children were to be admitted into the school but such as could say their catechism, and read and write competently. each child was required to pay fourpence on his first admission to the school, which sum was to be given to the "poor scholar" who swept the school and kept the seats clean. the hours of study were to be from seven till eleven in the morning, and from one to five in the afternoon, with prayers in the morning, at noon, and in the evening. it was expressly stipulated that the pupils should never use tallow candles, but only wax, and those "at the cost of their friends." the most remarkable statute of the school is that by which the scholars were bound on christmas-day to attend at st. paul's church and hear the child-bishop sermon, and after be at the high mass, and each of them offer one penny to the child-bishop. when dean colet was asked why he had left his foundation in trust to laymen (the mercers' company), as tenants of his father, rather than to an ecclesiastical foundation, he answered, "that there was no absolute certainty in human affairs, but, for his part, he found less corruption in such a body of citizens than in any other order or degree of mankind." erasmus, after describing the foundation and the school, which he calls "a magnificent structure, to which were attached two dwelling-houses for the masters," proceeds to say, "he divided the school into four chambers. the first--namely, the porch and entrance--in which the chaplain teaches, where no child is to be admitted who cannot read and write; the second apartment is for those who are taught by the under-master; the third is for the boys of the upper form, taught by the high master. these two parts of the school are divided by a curtain, to be drawn at will. over the headmaster's chair is an image of the boy jesus, a beautiful work, in the gesture of teaching, whom all the scholars, going and departing, salute with a hymn. there is a representation of god the father, also, saying, 'hear ye him,' which words were written at my suggestion." "the last apartment is a little chapel for divine service. in the whole school there are no corners or hiding-places; neither a dining nor a sleeping place. each boy has his own place, one above another. every class or form contains sixteen boys, and he that is at the head of a class has a little seat, by way of pre-eminence." erasmus, who took a great interest in st. paul's school, drew up a grammar, and other elementary books of value, for his friend colet, who had for one of his masters william lily, "the model of grammarians." colet's masters were always to be married men. the school thus described shared in the great fire of , and was rebuilt by the mercers' company in . this second structure was superseded by the present edifice, designed and erected by george smith, esq., the architect of the mercers' company. it has the advantage of two additional masters' houses, and a large cloister for a playground underneath the school. on occasions of the sovereigns of england, or other royal or distinguished persons, going in state through the city, a balcony is erected in front of this building, whence addresses from the school are presented to the illustrious visitors by the head boys. the origin of this right or custom of the paulines is not known, but it is of some antiquity. addresses were so presented to charles v. and henry viii., in ; to queen elizabeth, ; and to queen victoria, when the royal exchange was opened, in . her majesty, however, preferred to receive the address at the next levee; and this precedent was followed when the multitudes of london rushed to welcome the prince of wales and princess alexandra, in . the ancient school-room was on a level with the street, the modern one is built over the cloister. it is a finely-proportioned apartment, and has several new class-rooms adjoining, erected upon a plan proposed by dr. kynaston, the present headmaster. at the south end of this noble room, above the master's chair, is a bust of the founder by roubiliac. over the seat is inscribed, "intendas animum studiis et rebus honestis," and over the entrance to the room is the quaint and appropriate injunction found at winchester and other public schools--"doce, disce, aut discede." st. paul's school has an excellent library immediately adjoining the school-room, to which the eighth class have access out of school-hours, the six seniors occupying places in it in school-time. in the masters' stipends were enlarged, and the surplus money set apart for college exhibitions. the head master receives £ a year, the second master £ . the education is entirely gratuitous. the presentations to the school are in the gift of the master of the mercers' company, which company has undoubtedly much limited dean colet's generous intentions. the school is rich in prizes and exhibitions. the latest chronicler of the paulines says:-- "few public schools can claim to have educated more men who figure prominently in english history than st. paul's school. sir edward north, founder of the noble family of that name; sir william paget, who from being the son of a serjeant-at-mace became privy councillor to four successive sovereigns, and acquired the title now held by his descendant, the owner of beaudesert; and john leland, the celebrated archæologist; william whitaker, one of the earliest and most prominent chaplains of the reformation; william camden, antiquarian and herald; the immortal john milton; samuel pepys; robert nelson, author of the 'companion to the festivals and fasts of the church of england;' dr. benjamin calamy; sir john trevor, master of the rolls and speaker of the house of commons; john, the great duke of marlborough; halley, the great astronomer; the gallant but unfortunate major andré; sir philip francis; sir charles wetherell; sir frederick pollock, the late lord chief baron; lord chancellor truro; and the distinguished greek professor at oxford, benjamin jowett." pepys seems to have been very fond of his old school. in , he goes on apposition day to hear his brother john deliver his speech, which he had corrected; and on another occasion, meeting his old second master, crumbun--a dogmatic old pedagogue, as he calls him--at a bookseller's in the churchyard, he gives the school a fine copy of stephens' "thesaurus." in , going to the mercers' hall in the lord admiral's coach, we find him expressing pleasure at going in state to the place where as a boy he had himself humbly pleaded for an exhibition to st. paul's school. according to dugdale, an ancient cathedral school existed at st. paul's. bishop balmeis (henry i.) bestowed on it "the house of durandus, near the bell tower;" and no one could keep a school in london without the licence of the master of paul's, except the masters of st. mary-le-bow and st. martin's-le-grand. the old laws of dean colet, containing many curious provisions and restrictions, among other things forbad cock-fighting "and other pageantry" in the school. it was ordered that the second master and chaplain were to reside in old change. there was a bust of good dean colet over the head-master's throne. strype, speaking of the original dedication of the school to the child jesus, says, "but the saint robbed his master of the title." in early days there used to be great war between the "paul's pigeons," as they were called, and the boys of st. anthony's free school, threadneedle street, whom the paulines nicknamed "anthony's pigs." the anthony's boys were great carriers off of prizes for logic and grammar. of milton's school-days mr. masson, in his voluminous life of the poet, says, "milton was at st. paul's, as far as we can calculate, from , when he passed his eleventh year, to - , when he had passed his sixteenth." chapter xxiii. paternoster row. its successions of traders--the house of longman--goldsmith at fault--tarleton, actor, host, and wit--ordinaries around st. paul's: their rules and customs--the "castle"--"dolly's"--the "chapter" and its frequenters--chatterton and goldsmith--dr. buchan and his prescriptions--dr. gower--dr. fordyce--the "wittinagemot" at the "chapter"--the "printing conger"--mrs. turner, the poisoner--the church of st. michael "ad bladum"--the boy in panier alley. paternoster row, that crowded defile north of the cathedral, lying between the old grey friars and the blackfriars, was once entirely ecclesiastical in its character, and, according to stow, was so called from the stationers and text-writers who dwelt there and sold religious and educational books, alphabets, paternosters, aves, creeds, and graces. it then became famous for its spurriers, and afterwards for eminent mercers, silkmen, and lacemen; so that the coaches of the "quality" often blocked up the whole street. after the fire these trades mostly removed to bedford street, king street, and henrietta street, covent garden. in (says strype) there were stationers and booksellers who came here in queen anne's reign from little britain, and a good many tire-women, who sold commodes, top-knots, and other dressings for the female head. by degrees, however, learning ousted vanity, chattering died into studious silence, and the despots of literature ruled supreme. many a groan has gone up from authors in this gloomy thoroughfare. one only, and that the most ancient, of the paternoster row book-firms, will our space permit us to chronicle. the house of longman is part and parcel of the row. the first longman, born in bristol in , was the son of a soap and sugar merchant. apprenticed in london, he purchased (_circa_ ) the business of mr. taylor, the publisher of "robinson crusoe," for £ , s. d., and his first venture was the works of boyle. this patriarch died in , and was succeeded by a nephew, thomas longman, who ventured much trade in america and "the plantations." he was succeeded by his son, mr. t.l. longman, a plain man of the old citizen style, who took as partner mr. owen rees, a bristol bookseller, a man of industry and acumen. before the close of the eighteenth century the house of longman and rees had become one of the largest in the city, both as publishers and book-merchants. when there was talk of an additional paper-duty, the ministers consulted, according to west, the new firm, and on their protest desisted; a reverse course, according to the same authority, would have checked operations on the part of that one firm alone of £ , . before the opening of the nineteenth century they had become possessed of some new and valuable copyrights--notably, the "grammar" of lindley murray, of new york. this was in . the "lake poets" proved a valuable acquisition. wordsworth came first to them, then coleridge, and lastly southey. in the longmans commenced the issue of rees' "cyclopædia," reconstructed from the old chambers', and about the same time the _annual review_, edited by aikin, which for the nine years of its existence southey and taylor of norwich mainly supported. the catalogue of the firm for is divided into no less than twenty-two classes. among their books we note paley's "natural theology," sharon turner's "anglo-saxon history," adolphus's "history of king george iii.," pinkerton's "geography," fosbrooke's "british monachism," cowper's "homer," gifford's "juvenal," sotheby's "oberon," and novels and romances not a few. at this time mr. longman used to have saturday evening receptions in paternoster row. sir walter scott's "guy mannering," "the monastery," and "the abbot," were published by longmans. "lalla rookh," by tom moore, was published by them, and they gave £ , for it. in mr. brown, who had entered the house as an apprentice in , and was the son of an old servant, became partner. then came in mr. orme, a faithful clerk of the house--for the house required several heads, the old book trade alone being an important department. in , when constable of edinburgh came down in the commercial crash, and brought poor sir walter scott to the ground with him, the longman firm succeeded to the _edinburgh review_, which is still their property. mr. green became a partner in , and in mr. roberts was admitted. in the firm ventured on lardner's "cyclopædia," contributed to by scott, tom moore, mackintosh, &c, and which ended in with the rd volume. in mr. thomas longman became a partner. thomas norton longman, says a writer in the _critic_, resided for many years at mount grove, hampstead, where he entertained many wits and scholars. he died there in , leaving £ , personalty. in mr. william longman entered the firm as a partner. "longman, green, longman, and roberts" became the style of the great publishing house, the founder of which commenced business one hundred and forty-four years ago, at the house which became afterwards no. , paternoster row. in , a year before goldsmith's death, dr. kenrick, a vulgar satirist of the day, wrote an anonymous letter in an evening paper called _the london packet_, sneering at the poet's vanity, and calling "the traveller" a flimsy poem, denying the "deserted village" genius, fancy, or fire, and calling "she stoops to conquer" the merest pantomime. goldsmith's irish blood fired at an allusion to miss horneck and his supposed rejection by her. supposing evans, of paternoster row, to be the editor of the _packet_, goldsmith resolved to chastise him. evans, a brutal fellow, who turned his son out in the streets and separated from his wife because she took her son's part, denied all knowledge of the matter. as he turned his back to look for the libel, goldsmith struck him sharply across the shoulders. evans, a sturdy, hot welshman, returned the blow with interest, and in the scuffle a lamp overhead was broken and covered the combatants with fish-oil. dr. kenrick then stepped from an adjoining room, interposed between the combatants, and sent poor goldsmith home, bruised and disfigured, in a coach. evans subsequently indicted goldsmith for the assault, but the affair was compromised by goldsmith paying £ towards a welsh charity. the friend who accompanied goldsmith to this chivalrous but unsuccessful attack is said to have been captain horneck, but it seems more probable that it was captain higgins, an irish friend mentioned in "the haunch of venison." near the site of the present dolly's chop house stood the "castle," an ordinary kept by shakespeare's friend and fellow actor, richard tarleton, the low comedian of queen elizabeth's reign. it was this humorous, ugly actor who no doubt suggested to the great manager many of his jesters, fools, and simpletons, and we know that the tag songs--such as that at the end of _all's well that ends well_, "when that i was a little tiny boy"--were expressly written for tarleton, and were danced by that comedian to the tune of a pipe and a tabor which he himself played. the part which tarleton had to play as host and wit is well shown in his "book of jests:"-- "tarleton keeping an ordinary in paternoster row, and sitting with gentlemen to make them merry, would approve mustard standing before them to have wit. 'how so?' saies one. 'it is like a witty scold meeting another scold, knowing that scold will scold, begins to scold first. so,' says he, 'the mustard being lickt up, and knowing that you will bite it, begins to bite you first.' 'i'll try that,' saies a gull by, and the mustard so tickled him that his eyes watered. 'how now?' saies tarleton; 'does my jest savour?' 'i,' saies the gull, 'and bite too.' 'if you had had better wit,' saies tarleton, 'you would have bit first; so, then, conclude with me, that dumbe unfeeling mustard hath more wit than a talking, unfeeling foole, as you are.' some were pleased, and some were not; but all tarleton's care was taken, for his resolution was ever, before he talkt any jest, to measure his opponent." [illustration: richard tarleton, the actor (_copied from an old wood engraving_) [_see page _].] a modern antiquary has with great care culled from the "gull's horn book" and other sources a sketch of the sort of company that might be met with at such an ordinary. it was the custom for men of fashion in the reign of elizabeth and james to pace in st. paul's till dinner-time, and after the ordinary again till the hour when the theatres opened. the author of "shakespeare's england" says:-- "there were ordinaries of all ranks, the _table-d'hôte_ being the almost universal mode of dining among those who were visitors to london during the season, or term-time, as it was then called. there was the twelvepenny ordinary, where you might meet justices of the peace and young knights; and the threepenny ordinary, which was frequented by poor lieutenants and thrifty attorneys. at the one the rules of high society were maintained, and the large silver salt-cellar indicated the rank of the guests. at the other the diners were silent and unsociable, or the conversation, if any, was so full of 'amercements and feoffments' that a mere countryman would have thought the people were conjuring. "if a gallant entered the ordinary at about half-past eleven, or even a little earlier, he would find the room full of fashion-mongers, waiting for the meat to be served. there are men of all classes: titled men, who live cheap that they may spend more at court; stingy men, who want to save the charges of house-keeping; courtiers, who come there for society and news; adventurers, who have no home; templars, who dine there daily; and men about town, who dine at whatever place is nearest to their hunger. lords, citizens, concealed papists, spies, prodigal 'prentices, precisians, aldermen, foreigners, officers, and country gentlemen, all are here. some have come on foot, some on horseback, and some in those new caroches the poets laugh at." "the well-bred courtier, on entering the room, saluted those of his acquaintances who were in winter gathered round the fire, in summer round the window, first throwing his cloak to his page and hanging up his hat and sword. the parvenu would single out a friend, and walk up and down uneasily with the scorn and carelessness of a gentleman usher, laughing rudely and nervously, or obtruding himself into groups of gentlemen gathered round a wit or poet. quarrelsome men pace about fretfully, fingering their sword-hilts and maintaining as sour a face as that puritan moping in a corner, pent up by a group of young swaggerers, who are disputing over a card at gleek. vain men, not caring whether it was paul's, the tennis court, or the playhouse, _published_ their clothes, and talked as loud as they could, in order to appear at ease, and laughed over the water poet's last epigram or the last pamphlet of marprelate. the soldiers bragged of nothing but of their employment in ireland and the low countries--how they helped drake to burn st. domingo, or grave maurice to hold out breda. tom coryatt, or such weak-pated travellers, would babble of the rialto and prester john, and exhibit specimens of unicorns' horns or palm-leaves from the river nilus. the courtier talked of the fair lady who gave him the glove which he wore in his hat as a favour; the poet of the last satire of marston or ben jonson, or volunteered to read a trifle thrown off of late by 'faith, a learned gentleman, a very worthy friend,' though if we were to enquire, this varlet poet might turn out, after all, to be the mere decoy duck of the hostess, paid to draw gulls and fools thither. the mere dullard sat silent, playing with his glove or discussing at what apothecary's the best tobacco was to be bought. [illustration: dolly's coffee-house (_see page _).] "the dishes seemed to have been served up at these hot luncheons or early dinners in much the same order as at the present day--meat, poultry, game, and pastry. 'to be at your woodcocks' implied that you had nearly finished dinner. the more unabashable, rapid adventurer, though but a beggarly captain, would often attack the capon while his neighbour, the knight, was still encumbered with his stewed beef; and when the justice of the peace opposite, who has just pledged him in sack, is knuckle-deep in the goose, he falls stoutly on the long-billed game; while at supper, if one of the college of critics, our gallant praised the last play or put his approving stamp upon the new poem. "primero and a 'pair' of cards followed the wine. here the practised player learnt to lose with endurance, and neither to tear the cards nor crush the dice with his heel. perhaps the jest may be true, and that men sometimes played till they sold even their beards to cram tennis-balls or stuff cushions. the patron often paid for the wine or disbursed for the whole dinner. then the drawer came round with his wooden knife, and scraped off the crusts and crumbs, or cleared off the parings of fruit and cheese into his basket. the torn cards were thrown into the fire, the guests rose, rapiers were re-hung, and belts buckled on. the post news was heard, and the reckonings paid. the french lackey and irish footboy led out the hobby horses, and some rode off to the play, others to the river-stairs to take a pair of oars to the surrey side." the "castle," where tarleton has so often talked of shakespeare and his wit, perished in the great fire; but was afterwards rebuilt, and here "the castle society of music" gave their performances, no doubt aided by many of the st. paul's choir. part of the old premises were subsequently (says mr. timbs) the oxford bible warehouse, destroyed by fire in , and since rebuilt. "dolly's tavern," which stood near the "castle," derived its name from dolly, an old cook of the establishment, whose portrait gainsborough painted. bonnell thornton mentions the beefsteaks and gill ale at "dolly's." the coffee-room, with its projecting fire-places, is as old as queen anne. the head of that queen is painted on a window at "dolly's," and the entrance in queen's head passage is christened from this painting. the old taverns of london are to be found in the strangest nooks and corners, hiding away behind shops, or secreting themselves up alleys. unlike the paris _café_, which delights in the free sunshine of the boulevard, and displays its harmless revellers to the passers-by, the london tavern aims at cosiness, quiet, and privacy. it partitions and curtains-off its guests as if they were conspirators and the wine they drank was forbidden by the law. of such taverns the "chapter" is a good example. the "chapter coffee house," at the corner of chapter house court, was in the last century famous for its punch, its pamphlets, and its newspapers. as lawyers and authors frequented the fleet street taverns, so booksellers haunted the "chapter." bonnell thornton, in the _connoisseur_, jan., , says:--"the conversation here naturally turns upon the newest publications, but their criticisms are somewhat singular. when they say a _good_ book they do not mean to praise the style or sentiment, but the quick and extensive sale of it. that book is best which sells most." in chatterton, in one of those apparently hopeful letters he wrote home while in reality his proud heart was breaking, says:--"i am quite familiar at the 'chapter coffee house,' and know all the geniuses there." he desires a friend to send him whatever he has published, to be left at the "chapter." so, again, writing from the king's bench, he says a gentleman whom he met at the "chapter" had promised to introduce him as a travelling tutor to the young duke of northumberland; "but, alas! i spoke no tongue but my own." perhaps that very day chatterton came, half starved, and listened with eager ears to great authors talking. oliver goldsmith dined there, with lloyd, that reckless friend of still more reckless churchill, and some grub street cronies, and had to pay for the lot, lloyd having quite forgotten the important fact that he was moneyless. goldsmith's favourite seat at the "chapter" became a seat of honour, and was pointed out to visitors. leather tokens of the coffee-house are still in existence. mrs. gaskell has sketched the "chapter" in , with its low heavy-beamed ceilings, wainscoted rooms, and its broad, dark, shallow staircase. she describes it as formerly frequented by university men, country clergymen, and country booksellers, who, friendless in london, liked to hear the literary chat. few persons slept there, and in a long, low, dingy room upstairs the periodical meetings of the trade were held. "the high, narrow windows looked into the gloomy row." nothing of motion or of change could be seen in the grim, dark houses opposite, so near and close, although the whole width of the row was between. the mighty roar of london ran round like the sound of an unseen ocean, yet every footfall on the pavement below might be heard distinctly in that unfrequented street. the frequenters of the "chapter coffee house" ( - ) have been carefully described by sir richard phillips. alexander stevens, editor of the "annual biography and obituary," was one of the choice spirits who met nightly in the "wittinagemot," as it was called, or the north-east corner box in the coffee-room. the neighbours, who dropped in directly the morning papers arrived, and before they were dried by the waiter, were called the wet paper club, and another set intercepted the wet evening papers. dr. buchan, author of that murderous book, "domestic medicine," which teaches a man how to kill himself and family cheaply, generally acted as moderator. he was a handsome, white-haired man, a tory, a good-humoured companion, and a _bon vivant_. if any one began to complain, or appear hypochondriacal, he used to say-- "now let me prescribe for you, without a fee. here, john, bring a glass of punch for mr. ----, unless he likes brandy and water better. now, take that, sir, and i'll warrant you'll soon be well. you're a peg too low; you want stimulus; and if one glass won't do, call for a second." dr. gower, the urbane and able physician of the middlesex hospital, was another frequent visitor, as also that great eater and worker, dr. fordyce, whose balance no potations could disturb. fordyce had fashionable practice, and brought rare news and much sound information on general subjects. he came to the "chapter" from his wine, stayed about an hour, and sipped a glass of brandy and water. he then took another glass at the "london coffee house," and a third at the "oxford," then wound home to his house in essex street, strand. the three doctors seldom agreed on medical subjects, and laughed loudly at each other's theories. they all, however, agreed in regarding the "chapter" punch as an infallible and safe remedy for all ills. the standing men in the box were hammond and murray. hammond, a coventry manufacturer, had scarcely missed an evening at the "chapter" for forty-five years. his strictures on the events of the day were thought severe but able, and as a friend of liberty he had argued all through the times of wilkes and the french and american wars. his socratic arguments were very amusing. mr. murray, the great referee of the wittinagemot, was a scotch minister, who generally sat at the "chapter" reading papers from a.m. to p.m. he was known to have read straight through every morning and evening paper published in london for thirty years. his memory was so good that he was always appealed to for dates and matters of fact, but his mind was not remarkable for general lucidity. other friends of stevens's were dr. birdmore, the master of the charterhouse, who abounded in anecdote; walker, the rhetorician and dictionary-maker, a most intelligent man, with a fine enunciation, and dr. towers, a political writer, who over his half-pint of lisbon grew sarcastic and lively. also a grumbling man named dobson, who between asthmatic paroxysms vented his spleen on all sides. dobson was an author and paradox-monger, but so devoid of principle that he was deserted by all his friends, and would have died from want, if dr. garthshore had not placed him as a patient in an empty fever hospital. robinson, "the king of booksellers," and his sensible brother john were also frequenters of the "chapter," as well as joseph johnson, the friend of priestley, paine, cowper, and fuseli, from st. paul's churchyard. phillips, the speculative bookseller, then commencing his _monthly magazine_, came to the "chapter" to look out for recruits, and with his pockets well lined with guineas to enlist them. he used to describe all the odd characters at this coffee-house, from the glutton in politics, who waited at daylight for the morning papers, to the moping and disconsolate bachelor, who sat till the fire was raked out by the sleepy waiter at half-past twelve at night. these strange figures succeeded each other regularly, like the figures in a magic lantern. alexander chalmers, editor of many works, enlivened the wittinagemot by many sallies of wit and humour. he took great pains not to be mistaken for a namesake of his, who, he used to say, carried "the leaden mace." other _habitués_ were the two parrys, of the _courier_ and _jacobite_ papers, and captain skinner, a man of elegant manners, who represented england in the absurd procession of all nations, devised by that german revolutionary fanatic, anacharsis clootz, in paris in . baker, an ex-spitalfields manufacturer, a great talker and eater, joined the coterie regularly, till he shot himself at his lodgings in kirby street. it was discovered that his only meal in the day had been the nightly supper at the "chapter," at the fixed price of a shilling, with a supplementary pint of porter. when the shilling could no longer be found for the supper, he killed himself. among other members of these pleasant coteries were lowndes, the electrician; dr. busby, the musician; cooke, the well-bred writer of conversation; and macfarlane, the author of "the history of george iii.," who was eventually killed by a blow from the pole of a coach during an election procession of sir francis burdett at brentford. another celebrity was a young man named wilson, called langton, from his stories of the _haut ton_. he ran up a score of £ , and then disappeared, to the vexation of mrs. brown, the landlady, who would willingly have welcomed him, even though he never paid, as a means of amusing and detaining customers. waithman, the common councilman, was always clear-headed and agreeable. there was also mr. paterson, a long-headed, speculative north briton, who had taught pitt mathematics. but such coteries are like empires; they have their rise and their fall. dr. buchan died; some pert young sparks offended the nestor, hammond, who gave up the place, after forty-five years' attendance, and before the "chapter" grew silent and dull. the fourth edition of dr. ----ell's "antient and modern geography," says nicholls, was published by an association of respectable booksellers, who about the year entered into an especial partnership, for the purpose of printing some expensive works, and styled themselves "the printing conger." the term "conger" was supposed to have been at first applied to them invidiously, alluding to the conger eel, which is said to swallow the smaller fry; or it may possibly have been taken from _congeries_. the "conger" met at the "chapter." the "chapter" closed as a coffee-house in , and was altered into a tavern. one tragic memory, and one alone, as far as we know, attaches to paternoster row. it was here, in the reign of james i., that mrs. anne turner lived, at whose house the poisoning of sir thomas overbury was planned. it was here that viscount rochester met the infamous countess of essex; and it was overbury's violent opposition to this shameful intrigue that led to his death from arsenic and diamond-dust, administered in the tower by weston, a servant of mrs. turner's, who received £ for his trouble. rochester and the countess were disgraced, but their lives were spared. the earl of northampton, an accomplice of the countess, died before overbury succumbed to his three months of torture. "mrs. turner," says sir simonds d'ewes, had "first brought up that vain and foolish use of yellow starch, coming herself to her trial in a yellow band and cuffs; and therefore, when she was afterwards executed at tyburn, the hangman had his band and cuffs of the same colour, which made many after that day, of either sex, to forbear the use of that coloured starch, till at last it grew generally to be detested and disused." in a curious old print of west chepe, date , in the vestry-room of st. vedast's, foster lane, we see st. michael's, on the north side of paternoster row. it is a plain dull building, with a low square tower and pointed-headed windows. it was chiefly remarkable as the burial-place of that indefatigable antiquary, john leland. this laborious man, educated at st. paul's school, was one of the earliest greek scholars in england, and one of the deepest students of welsh and saxon. henry viii. made him one of his chaplains, bestowed on him several benefices, and gave him a roving commission to visit the ruins of england and wales and inspect the records of collegiate and cathedral libraries. he spent six years in this search, and collected a vast mass of material, then retired to his house in the parish of st. michael-le-quern to note and arrange his treasures. his mind, however, broke down under the load: he became insane, and died in that dreadful darkness of the soul, . his great work, "the itinerary of great britain," was not published till after his death. his large collections relating to london antiquities were, unfortunately for us, lost. the old church of "st. michael ad bladum," says strype, "or 'at the corn' (corruptly called the 'quern') was so called because in place thereof was sometime a corn-market, stretching up west to the shambles. it seemeth that this church was first builded about the reign of edward iii. thomas newton, first parson there, was buried in the quire, in the year , which was the th of edward iii. at the east end of this church stood an old cross called the old cross in west-cheap, which was taken down in the th richard ii.; since the which time the said parish church was also taken down, but new builded and enlarged in the year ; the th henry vi., william eastfield, mayor, and the commonalty, granting of the common soil of the city three foot and a half in breadth on the north part, and four foot in breadth towards the east, for the inlarging thereof. this church was repaired, and with all things either for use or beauty, richly supplied and furnished, at the sole cost and charge of the parishioners, in . this church was burnt down in the great fire, and remains unbuilt, and laid into the street, but the conduit which was formerly at the east end of the church still remains. the parish is united to st. vedast, foster lane. at the east end of this church, in place of the old cross, is now a water-conduit placed. william eastfield, maior, the th henry vi., at the request of divers common councels, granted it so to be. whereupon, in the th of the said henry, , marks was granted by a common councel towards the works of this conduit, and the reparation of others. this is called the little conduit in west cheap, by paul's gate. at the west end of this parish church is a small passage for people on foot, thorow the same church; and west from the same church, some distance, is another passage out of paternoster row, and is called (of such a sign) panyer alley, which cometh out into the north, over against st. martin's lane. 'when you have sought the city round, yet still this is the highest ground. august , .' this is writ upon a stone raised, about the middle of this panier alley, having the figure of a panier, with a boy sitting upon it, with a bunch of grapes, as it seems to be, held between his naked foot and hand, in token, perhaps, of plenty." at the end of a somewhat long latin epitaph to marcus erington in this church occurred the following lines:-- "vita bonos, sed poena malos, æterna capessit, vitæ bonis, sed poena malis, per secula crescit. his mors, his vita, perpetuatur ita." john bankes, mercer and squire, who was interred here, had a long epitaph, adorned with the following verses:-- "imbalmed in pious arts, wrapt in a shroud of white, innocuous charity, who vowed, having enough, the world should understand no need of money might escape his hand; bankes here is laid asleepe--this place did breed him-- a precedent to all that shall succeed him. note both his life and immitable end; not he th' unrighteous mammon made his friend; expressing by his talents' rich increase service that gain'd him praise and lasting peace. much was to him committed, much he gave, ent'ring his treasure there whence all shall have returne with use: what to the poore is given claims a just promise of reward in heaven. even such a banke _bankes_ left behind at last, riches stor'd up, which age nor time can waste." on part of the site of the church of this parish, after the fire of london in , was erected a conduit for supplying the neighbourhood with water; but the same being found unnecessary, it was, with others, pulled down anno . chapter xxiv. baynard's castle, doctors' commons, and heralds' college. baron fitzwalter and king john--the duties of the chief bannerer of london--an old-fashioned punishment for treason--shakespearian allusions to baynard's castle--doctors' commons and its five courts--the court of probate act, --the court of arches--the will office--business of the court--prerogative court--faculty office--lord stowell, the admiralty judge--stories of him--his marriage--sir herbert jenner fust--the court "rising"--dr. lushington--marriage licences--old weller and the "touters"--doctors' commons at the present day. we have already made passing mention of baynard's castle, the grim fortress near blackfriars bridge, immediately below st. paul's, where for several centuries after the conquest, norman barons held their state, and behind its stone ramparts maintained their petty sovereignty. this castle took its name from ralph baynard, one of those greedy and warlike normans who came over with the conqueror, who bestowed on him many marks of favour, among others the substantial gift of the barony of little dunmow, in essex. this chieftain built the castle, which derived its name from him, and, dying in the reign of rufus, the castle descended to his grandson, henry baynard, who in , however, forfeited it to the crown for taking part with helias, earl of mayne, who endeavoured to wrest his norman possessions from henry i. the angry king bestowed the barony and castle of baynard, with all its honours, on robert fitzgerald, son of gilbert, earl of clare, his steward and cup-bearer. robert's son, walter, adhered to william de longchamp, bishop of ely, against john, earl of moreton, brother of richard coeur de lion. he, however, kept tight hold of the river-side castle, which duly descended to robert, his son, who in became castellan and standard-bearer of the city. on this same banneret, in the midst of his pride and prosperity, there fell a great sorrow. the licentious tyrant, john, who spared none who crossed his passions, fell in love with matilda, fitz-walter's fair daughter, and finding neither father nor daughter compliant to his will, john accused the castellan of abetting the discontented barons, and attempted his arrest. but the river-side fortress was convenient for escape, and fitz-walter flew to france. tradition says that in king john invaded france, but that after a time a truce was made between the two nations for five years. there was a river, or arm of the sea, flowing between the french and english tents, and across this flood an english knight, hungry for a fight, called out to the soldiers of the fleur de lis to come over and try a joust or two with him. at once robert fitz-walter, with his visor down, ferried over alone with his barbed horse, and mounted ready for the fray. at the first course he struck john's knight so fiercely with his great spear, that both man and steed came rolling in a clashing heap to the ground. never was spear better broken; and when the squires had gathered up their discomfited master, and the supposed french knight had recrossed the ferry, king john, who delighted in a well-ridden course, cried out, with his usual oath, "by god's sooth, he were a king indeed who had such a knight!" then the friends of the banished man seized their opportunity, and came running to the usurper, and knelt down and said, "o king, he is your knight; it was robert fitz-walter who ran that joust." whereupon john, who could be generous when he could gain anything by it, sent the next day for the good knight, and restored him to his favour, allowed him to rebuild baynard's castle, which had been demolished by royal order, and made him, moreover, governor of the castle of hertford. but fitz-walter could not forget the grave of his daughter, still green at dunmow (for matilda, indomitable in her chastity, had been poisoned by a messenger of john's, who sprinkled a deadly powder over a poached egg--at least, so the legend runs), and soon placed himself at the head of those brave barons who the next year forced the tyrant to sign magna charta at runnymede. he was afterwards chosen general of the barons' army, to keep john to his word, and styled "marshal of the army of god and of the church." he then (not having had knocks enough in england) joined the crusaders, and was present at the great siege of damietta. in (the first year of henry iii.) fitz-walter again appears to the front, watchful of english liberty, for his castle of hertford having been delivered to louis of france, the dangerous ally of the barons, he required of the french to leave the same, "because the keeping thereof did by ancient right and title pertain to him." on which louis, says stow, prematurely showing his claws, replied scornfully "that englishmen were not worthy to have such holds in keeping, because they did betray their own lord;" but louis not long after left england rather suddenly, accelerated no doubt by certain movements of fitz-walter and his brother barons. [illustration: the figure in panier alley (_see page _).] fitz-walter dying, and being buried at dunmow, the scene of his joys and sorrows, was succeeded by his son walter, who was summoned to chester in the forty-third year of henry iii., to repel the fierce and half-savage welsh from the english frontier. after walter's death the barony of baynard was in the wardship of henry iii. during the minority of robert fitz-walter, who in claimed his right as castellan and banner-bearer of the city of london before john blandon, or blount, mayor of london. the old formularies on which fitz-walter founded his claims are quoted by stow from an old record which is singularly quaint and picturesque. the chief clauses run thus:-- "the said robert and his heirs are and ought to be chief bannerets of london in fee, for the chastiliary which he and his ancestors had by castle baynard in the said city. in time of war the said robert and his heirs ought to serve the city in manner as followeth--that is, the said robert ought to come, he being the twentieth man of arms, on horseback, covered with cloth or armour, unto the great west door of st. paul's, with his banner displayed before him, and when he is so come, mounted and apparelled, the mayor, with his aldermen and sheriffs armed with their arms, shall come out of the said church with a banner in his hand, all on foot, which banner shall be gules, the image of st. paul gold, the face, hands, feet, and sword of silver; and as soon as the earl seeth the mayor come on foot out of the church, bearing such a banner, he shall alight from his horse and salute the mayor, saying unto him, 'sir mayor, i am come to do my service which i owe to the city.' and the mayor and aldermen shall reply, 'we give to you as our banneret of fee in this city the banner of this city, to bear and govern, to the honour of this city to your power;' and the earl, taking the banner in his hands, shall go on foot out of the gate; and the mayor and his company following to the door, shall bring a horse to the said robert, value twenty pounds, which horse shall be saddled with a saddle of the arms of the said earl, and shall be covered with sindals of the said arms. also, they shall present him a purse of twenty pounds, delivering it to his chamberlain, for his charges that day." [illustration: the church of st. michael ad bladum (_see page _).] the record goes on to say that when robert is mounted on his £ horse, banner in hand, he shall require the mayor to appoint a city marshal (we have all seen him with his cocked hat and subdued commander-in-chief manner), "and the commons shall then assemble under the banner of st. paul, robert bearing the banner to aldgate, and then delivering it up to some fit person. and if the army have to go out of the city, robert shall choose two sage persons out of every ward to keep the city in the absence of the army." and these guardians were to be chosen in the priory of the trinity, near aldgate. and for every town or castle which the lord of london besieged, if the siege continued a whole year, the said robert was to receive for every siege, of the commonalty, one hundred shillings and no more. these were robert fitz-walter's rights in times of war; in times of peace his rights were also clearly defined. his soke or ward in the city began at a wall of st. paul's canonry, which led down by the brewhouse of st. paul's to the river thames, and so to the side of a wall, which was in the water coming down from fleet bridge. the ward went on by london wall, behind the house of the black friars, to ludgate, and it included all the parish of st. andrew. any of his sokemen indicted at the guildhall of any offence not touching the body of the mayor or sheriff, was to be tried in the court of the said robert. "if any, therefore, be taken in his sokemanry, he must have his stocks and imprisonment in his soken, and he shall be brought before the mayor and judgment given him, but it must not be published till he come into the court of the said earl, and in his liberty; and if he have deserved death by treason, he is to be tied to a post in the thames, at a good wharf, where boats are fastened, two ebbings and two flowings of the water(!) and if he be condemned for a common theft, he ought to be led to the elms, and there suffer his judgment as other thieves. and so the said earl hath honour, that he holdeth a great franchise within the city, that the mayor must do him right; and when he holdeth a great council, he ought to call the said robert, who should be sworn thereof, against all people, saving the king and his heirs. and when he cometh to the hustings at guildhall, the mayor ought to rise against him, and sit down near him, so long as he remaineth, all judgments being given by his mouth, according to the records of the said guildhall; and the waifes that come while he stayeth, he ought to give them to the town bailiff, or to whom he will, by the counsel of the mayor." this old record seems to us especially quaint and picturesque. the right of banner-bearer to the city of london was evidently a privilege not to be despised by even the proudest norman baron, however numerous were his men-at-arms, however thick the forest of lances that followed at his back. at the gates of many a refractory essex or hertfordshire castle, no doubt, the fitz-walters flaunted that great banner, that was emblazoned with the image of st. paul, with golden face and silver feet; and the horse valued at £ , and the pouch with twenty golden pieces, must by no means have lessened the zeal and pride of the city castellan as he led on his trusty archers, or urged forward the half-stripped, sinewy men, who toiled at the catapult, or bent down the mighty springs of the terrible mangonel. many a time through aldgate must the castellan have passed with glittering armour and flaunting plume, eager to earn his hundred shillings by the siege of a rebellious town. then robert was knighted by edward i., and the family continued in high honour and reputation through many troubles and public calamities. in the reign of henry vi., when the male branch died out, anne, the heiress, married into the ratcliffe family, who revived the title of fitz-walter. it is not known how this castle came to the crown, but certain it is that on its being consumed by fire in (henry vi.), it was rebuilt by humphrey, the good duke of gloucester. on his death it was made a royal residence by henry vi., and by him granted to the duke of york, his luckless rival, who lodged here with his factious retainers during the lulls in the wars of york and lancaster. in the year , the earl of march, lodging in castle baynard, was informed that his army and the earl of warwick had declared that henry vi. was no longer worthy to reign, and had chosen him for their king. the earl coquetted, as usurpers often do, with these offers of the crown, declaring his insufficiency for so great a charge, till yielding to the exhortations of the archbishop of canterbury and the bishop of exeter, he at last consented. on the next day he went to st. paul's in procession, to hear the _te deum_, and was then conveyed in state to westminster, and there, in the hall, invested with the sceptre by the confessor. at baynard's castle, too, that cruel usurper, richard iii., practised the same arts as his predecessor. shakespeare, who has darkened richard almost to caricature, has left him the greatest wretch existing in fiction. at baynard's castle our great poet makes richard receive his accomplice buckingham, who had come from the guildhall with the lord mayor and aldermen to press him to accept the crown; richard is found by the credulous citizens with a book of prayer in his hand, standing between two bishops. this man, who was already planning the murder of hastings and the two princes in the tower, affected religious scruples, and with well-feigned reluctance accepted "the golden yoke of sovereignty." thus at baynard's castle begins that darker part of the crookback's career, which led on by crime after crime to the desperate struggle at bosworth, when, after slaying his rival's standard-bearer, richard was beaten down by swords and axes, and his crown struck off into a hawthorn bush. the defaced corpse of the usurper, stripped and gory, was, as the old chroniclers tell us, thrown over a horse and carried by a faithful herald to be buried at leicester. it is in vain that modern writers try to prove that richard was gentle and accomplished, that this murder attributed to him was profitless and impossible; his name will still remain in history blackened and accursed by charges that the great poet has turned into truth, and which, indeed, are difficult to refute. that richard might have become a great, and wise, and powerful king, is possible; but that he hesitated to commit crimes to clear his way to the throne, which had so long been struggled for by the houses of york and lancaster, truth forbids us for a moment to doubt. he seems to have been one of those dark, wily natures that do not trust even their most intimate accomplices, and to have worked in such darkness that only the angels know what blows he struck, or what murders he planned. one thing is certain, that henry, clarence, hastings, and the princes died in terribly quick succession, and at most convenient moments. henry viii. expended large sums in turning baynard's castle from a fortress into a palace. he frequently lodged there in burly majesty, and entertained there the king of castile, who was driven to england by a tempest. the castle then became the property of the pembroke family, and here, in july, , the council was held in which it was resolved to proclaim mary queen of england, which was at once done at the cheapside cross by sound of trumpet. queen elizabeth, who delighted to honour her special favourites, once supped at baynard's castle with the earl, and afterwards went on the river to show herself to her loyal subjects. it is particularly mentioned that the queen returned to her palace at ten o'clock. the earls of shrewsbury afterwards occupied the castle, and resided there till it was burnt in the great fire. on its site stand the carron works and the wharf of the castle baynard copper company. adjoining baynard's castle once stood a tower built by king edward ii., and bestowed by him on william de ross, for a rose yearly, paid in lieu of all other services. the tower was in later times called "the legates' tower." westward of this stood montfichet castle, and eastward of baynard's castle the tower royal and the tower of london, so that the thames was well guarded from ludgate to the citadel. all round this neighbourhood, in the middle ages, great families clustered. there was beaumont inn, near paul's wharf, which, on the attainder of lord bardolf, edward iv. bestowed on his favourite, lord hastings, whose death richard iii. (as we have seen) planned at his very door. it was afterwards huntingdon house. near trigg stairs the abbot of chertsey had a mansion, afterwards the residence of lord sandys. west of paul's wharf (henry vi.) was scroope's inn, and near that a house belonging to the abbey of fescamp, given by edward iii. to sir thomas burley. in carter lane was the mansion of the priors of okeborne, in wiltshire, and not far from the present puddle dock was the great mansion of the lords of berkley, where, in the reign of henry vi., the king-making earl of warwick kept tremendous state, with a thousand swords ready to fly out if he even raised a finger. and now, leaving barons, usurpers, and plotters, we come to the dean's court archway of doctors' commons, the portal guarded by ambiguous touters for licences, men in white aprons, who look half like confectioners, and half like disbanded watermen. here is the college of doctors of law, provided for the ecclesiastical lawyers in the early part of queen elizabeth's reign by master henry harvey, master of trinity hall, cambridge, prebendary of ely, and dean of the arches; according to sir george howes, "a reverend, learned, and good man." the house had been inhabited by lord mountjoy, and dr. harvey obtained a lease of it for one hundred years of the dean and chapter of st. paul's, for the annual rent of five marks. before this the civilians and canonists had lodged in a small inconvenient house in paternoster row, afterwards the "queen's head tavern." cardinal wolsey, always magnificent in his schemes, had planned a "fair college of stone" for the ecclesiastical lawyers, the plan of which sir robert cotton possessed. in this college, in , says buc, the master of the revels, lived in commons with the judge of the high court of admiralty, being a doctor of civil law, the dean of the arches, the judges of the court of delegates, the vicar-general, and the master or custos of the prerogative court of canterbury. doctors' commons, says strype, "consists of five courts--three appertaining to the see of canterbury, one to the see of london, and one to the lords commissioners of the admiralties." the functions of these several courts he thus defines:-- "here are the courts kept for the practice of civil or ecclesiastical causes. several offices are also here kept; as the registrary of the archbishop of canterbury, and the registrary of the bishop of london. "the causes whereof the civil and ecclesiastical law take cognisance are those that follow, as they are enumerated in the 'present state of england:'--blasphemy, apostacy from christianity, heresy, schism, ordinations, institutions of clerks to benefices, celebration of divine service, matrimony, divorces, bastardy, tythes, oblations, obventions, mortuaries, dilapidations, reparation of churches, probate of wills, administrations, simony, incests, fornications, adulteries, solicitation of chastity; pensions, procurations, commutation of penance, right of pews, and other such like, reducible to those matters. "the courts belonging to the civil and ecclesiastical laws are divers. "first, the court of _arches_, which is the highest court belonging to the archbishop of canterbury. it was a court formerly kept in bow church in cheapside; and the church and tower thereof being arched, the court was from thence called _the arches_, and so still is called. hither are all appeals directed in ecclesiastical matters within the province of canterbury. to this court belongs a judge who is called _the dean of the arches_, so styled because he hath a jurisdiction over a deanery in london, consisting of thirteen parishes exempt from the jurisdiction of the bishop of london. this court hath (besides this judge) a registrar or examiner, an actuary, a beadle or crier, and an apparitor; besides advocates and procurators or proctors. these, after they be once admitted by warrant and commission directed from the archbishop, and by the dean of the arches, may then (and not before) exercise as advocates and proctors there, and in any other courts. "secondly, the court of _audience_. this was a court likewise of the archbishop's, which he used to hold in his own house, where he received causes, complaints, and appeals, and had learned civilians living with him, that were auditors of the said causes before the archbishop gave sentence. this court was kept in later times in st. paul's. the judge belonging to this court was stiled '_causarum_, negotiorumque cantuarien, auditor officialis.' it had also other officers, as the other courts. "thirdly, the next court for civil causes belonging to the archbishop is the _prerogative_ court, wherein wills and testaments are proved, and all administrations taken, which belongs to the archbishop by his prerogative, that is, by a special pre-eminence that this see hath in certain causes above ordinary bishops within his province; this takes place where the deceased hath goods to the value of £ out of the diocese, and being of the diocese of london, to the value of £ . if any contention grow, touching any such wills or administrations, the causes are debated and decided in this court. "fourthly, the court of _faculties and dispensations_, whereby a privilege or special power is granted to a person by favour and indulgence to do that which by law otherwise he could not: as, to marry, without banns first asked in the church three several sundays or holy days; the son to succeed his father in his benefice; for one to have two or more benefices incompatible; for non-residence, and in other such like cases. "fifthly, the court of _admiralty_, which was erected in the reign of edward iii. this court belongs to the lord high admiral of england, a high officer that hath the government of the king's navy, and the hearing of all causes relating to merchants and mariners. he takes cognisance of the death or mayhem of any man committed in the great ships riding in great rivers, beneath the bridges of the same next the sea. also he hath power to arrest ships in great streams for the use of the king, or his wars. and in these things this court is concerned. "to these i will add the court of _delegates_; to which high court appeals do lie from any of the former courts. this is the highest court for civil causes. it was established by an act in the th henry viii., cap. , wherein it was enacted, 'that it should be lawful, for lack of justice at or in any of the archbishop's courts, for the parties grieved to appeal to the king's majesty in his court of chancery; and that, upon any such appeal, a commission under the great seal should be directed to such persons as should be named by the king's highness (like as in case of appeal from the admiralty court), to determine such appeals, and the cases concerning the same. and no further appeals to be had or made from the said commissioners for the same.' these commissioners are appointed judges only for that turn; and they are commonly of the spiritualty, or bishops; of the common law, as judges of westminster hall; as well as those of the civil law. and these are mixed one with another, according to the nature of the cause. "lastly, sometimes a commission of _review_ is granted by the king under the broad seal, to consider and judge again what was decreed in the court of delegates. but this is but seldom, and upon great, and such as shall be judged just, causes by the lord keeper or high chancellor. and this done purely by the king's prerogative, since by the act for delegates no further appeals were to be laid or made from those commissioners, as was mentioned before." the act & vict., cap. , called "the court of probate act, ," received the royal assent on the th of august, . this is the great act which established the court of probate, and abolished the jurisdiction of the courts ecclesiastical. the following, says mr. forster, are some of the benefits resulting from the reform of the ecclesiastical courts:-- that reform has reduced the depositaries for wills in this country from nearly to . it has brought complicated testamentary proceedings into a system governed by one vigilant court. it has relieved the public anxiety respecting "the doom of english wills" by placing them in the custody of responsible men. it has thrown open the courts of law to the entire legal profession. it has given the public the right to prove wills or obtain letters of administration without professional assistance. it has given to literary men an interesting field for research. it has provided that which ancient rome is said to have possessed, but which london did not possess--viz., a place of deposit for the wills of living persons. it has extended the english favourite mode of trial--viz., trial by jury--by admitting jurors to try the validity of wills and questions of divorce. it has made divorce not a matter of wealth but of justice: the wealthy and the poor alike now only require a clear case and "no collusion." it has enabled the humblest wife to obtain a "protection order" for her property against an unprincipled husband. it has afforded persons wanting to establish legitimacy, the validity of marriages, and the right to be deemed natural born subjects, the means of so doing. amongst its minor benefits it has enabled persons needing copies of wills which have been proved since january, , in any part of the country, to obtain them from the principal registry of the court of probate in doctors' commons. sir cresswell cresswell was appointed judge of the probate court at its commencement. he was likewise the first judge of the divorce court. the college property--the freehold portion, subject to a yearly rent-charge of £ , and to an annual payment of s. d., both payable to the dean and chapter of st. paul's--was put up for sale by auction, in one lot, on november , . the place has now been demolished, and the materials have been sold, the site being required in forming the new thoroughfare from earl street, blackfriars, to the mansion house; the roadway passes directly through the college garden. chaucer, in his "canterbury tales," gives an unfavourable picture of the old sompnour (or apparitor to the ecclesiastical court):-- "a sompnour was ther with us in that place, thad hadde a fire-red cherubimes face; for sausefleme he was, with eyen narwe. as hote he was, and likerous as a sparwe, with scalled browes blake, and pilled berd; of his visage children were sore aferd. ther n'as quiksilver, litarge, ne brimston, boras, ceruse, ne oile of tartre non, ne oinement that wolde clense or bite, that him might helpen of his whelkes white, ne of the nobbes sitting on his chekes. wel loved he garlike, onions, and lekes, and for to drinke strong win as rede as blood. than wold he speke, and crie as he were wood. and when that he wel dronken had the win, than wold he speken no word but latin. a fewe termes coude he, two or three, that he had lerned out of some decree; no wonder is, he herd it all the day. and eke ye knowen wel, how that a jay can clepen watte, as well as can the pope. but who so wolde in other thing him grope, than hadde he spent all his philosophie, ay, _questio quid juris_ wold he crie." in there were but sixteen or seventeen doctors; in that swarm had increased to forty-four. in there were but five proctors; in there were forty-three. yet even in henry viii.'s time the proctors were complained of, for being so numerous and clamorous that neither judges nor advocates could be heard. cranmer, to remedy this evil, attempted to gradually reduce the number to ten, which was petitioned against as insufficient and tending to "delays and prolix suits." "doctors' commons," says defoe, "was a name very well known in holland, denmark, and sweden, because all ships that were taken during the last wars, belonging to those nations, on suspicion of trading with france, were brought to trial here; which occasioned that sarcastic saying abroad that we have often heard in conversation, that england was a fine country, but a man called doctors' commons was a devil, for there was no getting out of his clutches, let one's cause be never so good, without paying a great deal of money." a writer in knight's "london" ( ) gives a pleasant sketch of the court of arches in that year. the common hall, where the court of arches, the prerogative court, the consistory court, and the admiralty court all held their sittings, was a comfortable place, with dark polished wainscoting reaching high up the walls, while above hung the richly emblazoned arms of learned doctors dead and gone; the fire burned cheerily in the central stove. the dresses of the unengaged advocates in scarlet and ermine, and of the proctors in ermine and black, were picturesque. the opposing advocates sat in high galleries, and the absence of prisoner's dock and jury-box--nay, even of a public--impressed the stranger with a sense of agreeable novelty. apropos of the court of arches once held in bow church. "the commissary court of surrey," says mr. jeaffreson, in his "book about the clergy," "still holds sittings in the church of st. saviour's, southwark; and any of my london readers, who are at the small pains to visit that noble church during a sitting of the commissary's court, may ascertain for himself that, notwithstanding our reverence for consecrated places, we can still use them as chambers of justice. the court, of course, is a spiritual court, but the great, perhaps the greater, part of the business transacted at its sittings is of an essentially secular kind." the nature of the business in the court of arches may be best shown by the brief summary given in the report for three years-- , , and . there were matrimonial cases; of defamation; of brawling; church-smiting; church-rate; legacy; tithes; correction. of these were appeals from the courts, and original suits. the cases in the court of arches were often very trivial. "there was a case," says dr. nicholls, "in which the cause had originally commenced in the archdeacon's court at totnes, and thence there had been an appeal to the court at exeter, thence to the arches, and thence to the delegates; after all, the issue having been simply, which of two persons had the right of hanging his hat on a particular peg." the other is of a sadder cast, and calculated to arouse a just indignation. our authority is mr. t.w. sweet (report on eccles. courts), who states: "in one instance, many years since, a suit was instituted which i thought produced a great deal of inconvenience and distress. it was the case of a person of the name of russell, whose wife was supposed to have had her character impugned at yarmouth by a mr. bentham. he had no remedy at law for the attack upon the lady's character, and a suit for defamation was instituted in the commons. it was supposed the suit would be attended with very little expense, but i believe in the end it greatly contributed to ruin the party who instituted it; i think he said his proctor's bill would be £ . it went through several courts, and ultimately, i believe (according to the decision or agreement), each party paid his own costs." it appears from the evidence subsequently given by the proctor, that he very humanely declined pressing him for payment, and never was paid; and yet the case, through the continued anxiety and loss of time incurred for six or seven years (for the suit lasted that time), mainly contributed, it appears, to the party's ruin. [illustration: the prerogative office, doctors' commons.] as the law once stood, says a writer in knight's "london," if a person died possessed of property lying entirely within the diocese where he died, probate or proof of the will is made, or administration taken out, before the bishop or ordinary of that diocese; but if there were goods and chattels only to the amount of £ (except in the diocese of london, where the amount is £ )--in legal parlance, _bona notabilia_--within any other diocese, and which is generally the case, then the jurisdiction lies in the prerogative court of the archbishop of the province--that is, either at york or at doctors' commons; the latter, we need hardly say, being the court of the archbishop of canterbury. the two prerogative courts therefore engross the great proportion of the business of this kind through the country, for although the ecclesiastical courts have no power over the bequests of or succession to unmixed real property, if such were left, cases of that nature seldom or never occur. and, as between the two provinces, not only is that of canterbury much more important and extensive, but since the introduction of the funding system, and the extensive diffusion of such property, nearly all wills of importance belonging even to the province of york are also proved in doctors' commons, on account of the rule of the bank of england to acknowledge no probate of wills but from thence. to this cause, amongst others, may be attributed the striking fact that the business of this court between the three years ending with , and the three years ending with , had been doubled. of the vast number of persons affected, or at least interested in this business, we see not only from the crowded rooms, but also from the statement given in the report of the select committee on the admiralty and other courts of doctors' commons in , where it appears that in one year ( ) the number of searches amounted to , . in the same year extracts were taken from wills in , cases. [illustration: st. paul's and neighbourhood. (_from aggas' plan, ._)] on the south side is the entry to the prerogative court, and at no. the faculty office. they have no marriage licences at the faculty office of an earlier date than october, , and up to they are only imperfectly preserved. there is a ms. index to the licences prior to , for which the charge for a search is s. d. since the licences have been regularly kept, and the fee for searching is a shilling. the great admiralty judge of the early part of this century was dr. johnson's friend, lord stowell, the brother of lord eldon. according to sir herbert jenner fust, lord stowell's decisions during the war have since formed a code of international law, almost universally recognised. in one year alone ( ) he pronounced , decrees. lord stowell (then dr. scott) was made advocate-general in doctors' commons in , and vicar-general or official principal for the archbishop of canterbury. soon after he became master of the faculties, and in was nominated judge of the high court of admiralty, the highest dignity of the doctors' commons courts. during the great french war, it is said dr. scott sometimes received as much as £ , a case for fees and perquisites in a prize cause. he left at his death personal property exceeding £ , . he used to say that he admired above all other investments "the sweet simplicity of the three per cents.," and when purchasing estate after estate, observed "he liked plenty of elbow-room." "it was," says warton, "by visiting sir robert chambers, when a fellow of university, that johnson became acquainted with lord stowell; and when chambers went to india, lord stowell, as he expressed it to me, seemed to succeed to his place in johnson's friendship." "sir william scott (lord stowell)," says boswell, "told me that when he complained of a headache in the post-chaise, as they were travelling together to scotland, johnson treated him in a rough manner--'at your age, sir, i had no headache.' "mr. scott's amiable manners and attachment to our socrates," says boswell in edinburgh, "at once united me to him. he told me that before i came in the doctor had unluckily had a bad specimen of scottish cleanliness. he then drank no fermented liquor. he asked to have his lemonade made sweeter; upon which the waiter, with his greasy fingers, lifted a lump of sugar and put it into it. the doctor, in indignation, threw it out. scott said he was afraid he would have knocked the waiter down." again boswell says:--"we dined together with mr. scott, now sir william scott, his majesty's advocate-general, at his chambers in the temple--nobody else there. the company being so small, johnson was not in such high spirits as he had been the preceding day, and for a considerable time little was said. at last he burst forth--'subordination is sadly broken down in this age. no man, now, has the same authority which his father had--except a gaoler. no master has it over his servants; it is diminished in our colleges; nay, in our grammar schools.'" "sir william scott informs me that on the death of the late lord lichfield, who was chancellor of the university of oxford, he said to johnson, 'what a pity it is, sir, that you did not follow the profession of the law! you might have been lord chancellor of great britain, and attained to the dignity of the peerage; and now that the title of lichfield, your native city, is extinct, you might have had it.' johnson upon this seemed much agitated, and in an angry tone exclaimed, 'why will you vex me by suggesting this when it is too late?'" the strange marriage of lord stowell and the marchioness of sligo has been excellently described by mr. jeaffreson in his "book of lawyers." "on april , ," says our author, "the decorous sir william scott, and louisa catherine, widow of john, marquis of sligo, and daughter of admiral lord howe, were united in the bonds of holy wedlock, to the infinite amusement of the world of fashion, and to the speedy humiliation of the bridegroom. so incensed was lord eldon at his brother's folly that he refused to appear at the wedding; and certainly the chancellor's displeasure was not without reason, for the notorious absurdity of the affair brought ridicule on the whole of the scott family connection. the happy couple met for the first time in the old bailey, when sir william scott and lord ellenborough presided at the trial of the marchioness's son, the young marquis of sligo, who had incurred the anger of the law by luring into his yacht, in mediterranean waters, two of the king's seamen. throughout the hearing of that _cause célèbre_, the marchioness sat in the fetid court of the old bailey, in the hope that her presence might rouse amongst the jury or in the bench feelings favourable to her son. this hope was disappointed. the verdict having been given against the young peer, he was ordered to pay a fine of £ , , and undergo four months' incarceration in newgate, and--worse than fine and imprisonment--was compelled to listen to a parental address, from sir william scott, on the duties and responsibilities of men of high station. either under the influence of sincere admiration for the judge, or impelled by desire of vengeance on the man who had presumed to lecture her son in a court of justice, the marchioness wrote a few hasty words of thanks to sir william scott, for his salutary exhortation to her boy. she even went so far as to say that she wished the erring marquis could always have so wise a counsellor at his side. this communication was made upon a slip of paper, which the writer sent to the judge by an usher of the court. sir william read the note as he sat on the bench, and having looked towards the fair scribe, he received from her a glance and a smile that were fruitful of much misery to him. within four months the courteous sir william scott was tied fast to a beautiful, shrill, voluble termagant, who exercised marvellous ingenuity in rendering him wretched and contemptible. reared in a stately school of old-world politeness, the unhappy man was a model of decorum and urbanity. he took reasonable pride in the perfection of his tone and manner, and the marchioness--whose malice did not lack cleverness--was never more happy than when she was gravely expostulating with him, in the presence of numerous auditors, on his lamentable want of style and gentleman-like bearing. it is said that, like coke and holt under similar circumstances, sir william preferred the quietude of his chambers to the society of an unruly wife, and that in the cellar of his inn he sought compensation for the indignities and sufferings which he endured at home." "sir william scott," says mr. surtees, then "removed from doctors' commons to his wife's house in grafton street, and, ever economical in his domestic expenses, brought with him his own door-plate, and placed it under the pre-existing plate of lady sligo, instead of getting a new door-plate for them both. immediately after the marriage, mr. jekyll, so well known in the earliest part of this century for his puns and humour, happening to observe the position of these plates, condoled with sir william on having to 'knock under.' there was too much truth in the joke for it to be inwardly relished, and sir william ordered the plates to be transposed. a few weeks later jekyll accompanied his friend scott as far as the door, when the latter observed, 'you see i don't knock under now.' 'not now,' was the answer received by the antiquated bridegroom; '_now_ you knock up.'" there is a good story current of lord stowell in newcastle, that, when advanced in age and rank, he visited the school of his boyhood. an old woman, whose business was to clean out and keep the key of the school-room, conducted him. she knew the name and station of the personage whom she accompanied. she naturally expected some recompense--half-a-crown perhaps--perhaps, since he was so great a man, five shillings. but he lingered over the books, and asked a thousand questions about the fate of his old school-fellows; and as he talked her expectation rose--half-a-guinea--a guinea--nay, possibly (since she had been so long connected with the school in which the great man took so deep an interest) some little annuity! he wished her good-bye kindly, called her a good woman, and slipped a piece of money into her hand--it was a sixpence! "lord stowell," says mr. surtees, "was a great eater. as lord eldon had for his favourite dish liver and bacon, so his brother had a favourite quite as homely, with which his intimate friends, when he dined with them, would treat him. it was a rich pie, compounded of beef steaks and layers of oysters. yet the feats which lord stowell performed with the knife and fork were eclipsed by those which he would afterwards display with the bottle, and two bottles of port formed with him no uncommon potation. by wine, however, he was never, in advanced life at any rate, seen to be affected. his mode of living suited and improved his constitution, and his strength long increased with his years." at the western end of holborn there was a room generally let for exhibitions. at the entrance lord stowell presented himself, eager to see the "green monster serpent," which had lately issued cards of invitation to the public. as he was pulling out his purse to pay for his admission, a sharp but honest north-country lad, whose business it was to take the money, recognised him as an old customer, and, knowing his name, thus addressed him: "we can't take your shilling, my lord; 'tis t' old serpent, which you have seen six times before, in other colours; but ye can go in and see her." he entered, saved his money, and enjoyed his seventh visit to the "real original old sea-sarpint." of lord stowell it has been said by lord brougham that "his vast superiority was apparent when, as from an eminence, he was called to survey the whole field of dispute, and to unravel the variegated facts, disentangle the intricate mazes, and array the conflicting reasons, which were calculated to distract or suspend men's judgment." and brougham adds that "if ever the praise of being luminous could be bestowed upon human compositions, it was upon his." it would be impossible with the space at our command to give anything like a tithe of the good stories of this celebrated judge. we must pass on to other famous men who have sat on the judicial bench in doctors' commons. of sir herbert jenner fust, one of the great ecclesiastical judges of modern times, mr. jeaffreson tells a good story:-- "in old sir herbert's later days it was no mere pleasantry, or bold figure of speech, to say that the court had risen, for he used to be lifted from his chair and carried bodily from the chamber of justice by two brawny footmen. of course, as soon as the judge was about to be elevated by his bearers, the bar rose; and, also as a matter of course, the bar continued to stand until the strong porters had conveyed their weighty and venerable burden along the platform behind one of the rows of advocates and out of sight. as the trio worked their laborious way along the platform, there seemed to be some danger that they might blunder and fall through one of the windows into the space behind the court; and at a time when sir herbert and dr. ---- were at open variance, that waspish advocate had, on one occasion, the bad taste to keep his seat at the rising of the court, and with characteristic malevolence of expression say to the footmen, 'mind, my men, and take care of that judge of yours; or, by jove, you'll pitch him out of the window.' it is needless to say that this brutal speech did not raise the speaker in the opinion of the hearers." dr. lushington, recently deceased, aged ninety-one, is another ecclesiastical judge deserving notice. he entered parliament in , and retired in . he began his political career when the portland administration (perceval, castlereagh, and canning) ruled, and was always a steadfast reformer through good and evil report. he was one of the counsel for queen caroline, and aided brougham and denman in the popular triumph. he worked hard against slavery and for parliamentary reform, and had not only heard many of sir robert peel and lord john russell's earliest speeches, but also those of mr. gladstone and mr. disraeli. "though it seemed," says the _daily news_, "a little incongruous that questions of faith and ritual in the church, and those of seizures or accidents at sea, should be adjudicated on by the same person, it was always felt that his decisions were based on ample knowledge of the law and diligent attention to the special circumstances of the individual case. as dean of arches he was called to pronounce judgment in some of the most exciting ecclesiastical suits of modern times. when the first prosecutions were directed against the ritualistic innovators, as they were then called, of st. barnabas, both sides congratulated themselves that the judgment would be given by so venerable and experienced a judge; and perhaps the dissatisfaction of both sides with the judgment proved its justice. in the prosecution of the rev. h.b. wilson and dr. rowland williams, dr. lushington again pronounced a judgment which, contrary to popular expectation, was reversed on appeal by the judicial committee of the privy council." but how can we leave doctors' commons without remembering--as we see the touters for licences, who look like half pie-men, half watermen--sam weller's inimitable description of the trap into which his father fell? "paul's churchyard, sir," says sam to jingle; "a low archway on the carriage-side; bookseller's at one corner, hotel on the other, and two porters in the middle as touts for licences." "touts for licences!" said the gentleman. "touts for licences," replied sam. "two coves in white aprons, touches their hats when you walk in--'licence, sir, licence?' queer sort them, and their mas'rs, too, sir--old bailey proctors--and no mistake." "what do they do?" inquired the gentleman. "do! _you_, sir! that ain't the worst on't, neither. they puts things into old gen'lm'n's heads as they never dreamed of. my father, sir, was a coachman, a widower he wos, and fat enough for anything--uncommon fat, to be sure. his missus dies, and leaves him four hundred pound. down he goes to the commons to see the lawyer, and draw the blunt--very smart--top-boots on--nosegay in his button-hole--broad-brimmed tile--green shawl--quite the gen'lm'n. goes through the archway, thinking how he should inwest the money; up comes the touter, touches his hat-'licence, sir, licence?' 'what's that?' says my father. 'licence, sir,' says he. 'what licence,' says my father. 'marriage licence,' says the touter. 'dash my weskit,' says my father, 'i never thought o' that.' 'i thinks you want one, sir,' says the touter. my father pulls up and thinks a bit. 'no,' says he, 'damme, i'm too old, b'sides i'm a many sizes too large,' says he. 'not a bit on it, sir,' says the touter. 'think not?' says my father. 'i'm sure not,' says he; 'we married a gen'lm'n twice your size last monday.' 'did you, though?' said my father. 'to be sure we did,' says the touter, 'you're a babby to him--this way, sir--this way!' and sure enough my father walks arter him, like a tame monkey behind a horgan, into a little back office, vere a feller sat among dirty papers, and tin boxes, making believe he was busy. 'pray take a seat, vile i makes out the affidavit, sir,' says the lawyer. 'thankee, sir,' says my father, and down he sat, and stared with all his eyes, and his mouth wide open, at the names on the boxes. 'what's your name, sir?' says the lawyer. 'tony weller,' says my father. 'parish?' says the lawyer. 'belle savage,' says my father; for he stopped there when he drove up, and he know'd nothing about parishes, _he_ didn't. 'and what's the lady's name?' says the lawyer. my father was struck all of a heap. 'blessed if i know,' says he. 'not know!' says the lawyer. 'no more nor you do,' says my father; 'can't i put that in arterwards?' 'impossible!' says the lawyer. 'wery well,' says my father, after he'd thought a moment, 'put down mrs. clarke.' 'what clarke?' says the lawyer, dipping his pen in the ink. 'susan clarke, markis o' granby, dorking,' says my father; 'she'll have me if i ask, i dessay--i never said nothing to her; but she'll have me, i know.' the licence was made out, and she _did_ have him, and what's more she's got him now; and _i_ never had any of the four hundred pound, worse luck. beg your pardon, sir," said sam, when he had concluded, "but when i gets on this here grievance, i runs on like a new barrow with the wheel greased." doctors' commons is now a ruin. the spider builds where the proctor once wove his sticky web. the college, rebuilt after the great fire, is described by elmes as an old brick building in the carolean style, the interior consisting of two quadrangles once occupied by the doctors, a hall for the hearing of causes, a spacious library, a refectory, and other useful apartments. in , when doctors' commons was deserted by the proctors, a clever london essayist sketched the ruins very graphically, at the time when the metropolitan fire brigade occupied the lawyers' deserted town:-- "a deserted justice-hall, with dirty mouldering walls, broken doors and windows, shattered floor, and crumbling ceiling. the dust and fog of long-forgotten causes lowering everywhere, making the small leaden-framed panes of glass opaque, the dark wainscot grey, coating the dark rafters with a heavy dingy fur, and lading the atmosphere with a close unwholesome smell. time and neglect have made the once-white ceiling like a huge map, in which black and swollen rivers and tangled mountain ranges are struggling for pre-eminence. melancholy, decay, and desolation are on all sides. the holy of holies, where the profane vulgar could not tread, but which was sacred to the venerable gowned figures who cozily took it in turns to dispense justice and to plead, is now open to any passer-by. where the public were permitted to listen is bare and shabby as a well-plucked client. the inner door of long-discoloured baize flaps listlessly on its hinges, and the true law-court little entrance-box it half shuts in is a mere nest for spiders. a large red shaft, with the word 'broken' rudely scrawled on it in chalk, stands where the judgment-seat was formerly; long rows of ugly piping, like so many shiny dirty serpents, occupy the seats of honour round it; staring red vehicles, with odd brass fittings: buckets, helmets, axes, and old uniforms fill up the remainder of the space. a very few years ago this was the snuggest little law-nest in the world; now it is a hospital and store-room for the metropolitan fire brigade. for we are in doctors' commons, and lawyers themselves will be startled to learn that the old arches court, the old admiralty court, the old prerogative court, the old consistory court, the old harbour for delegates, chancellors, vicars-general, commissaries, prothonotaries, cursitors, seal-keepers, serjeants-at-mace, doctors, deans, apparitors, proctors, and what not, is being applied to such useful purposes now. let the reader leave the bustle of st. paul's churchyard, and, turning under the archway where a noble army of white-aproned touters formerly stood, cross knightrider street and enter the commons. the square itself is a memorial of the mutability of human affairs. its big sombre houses are closed. the well-known names of the learned doctors who formerly practised in the adjacent courts are still on the doors, but have, in each instance, 'all letters and parcels to be addressed' belgravia, or to one of the western inns of court, as their accompaniment. the one court in which ecclesiastical, testamentary, and maritime law was tried alternately, and which, as we have seen, is now ending its days shabbily, but usefully, is through the further archway to the left. here the smack _henry and betsy_ would bring its action for salvage against the schooner _mary jane_; here a favoured gentleman was occasionally 'admitted a proctor exercent by virtue of a rescript;' here, as we learnt with awe, proceedings for divorce were 'carried on in poenam,' and 'the learned judge, without entering into the facts, declared himself quite satisfied with the evidence, and pronounced for the separation;' and here the dean of peculiars settled his differences with the eccentrics who, i presume, were under his charge, and to whom he owed his title." such are the changes that take place in our protean city! already we have seen a palace in blackfriars turn into a prison, and the old courts of fleet street, once mansions of the rich and great, now filled with struggling poor. the great synagogue in the old jewry became a tavern; the palace of the savoy a barracks. these changes it is our special province to record, as to trace them is our peculiar function. the prerogative will office contains many last wills and testaments of great interest. there is a will written in short-hand, and one on a bed-post; but what are these to that of shakspeare, three folio sheets, and his signature to each sheet? why he left only his best bed to his wife long puzzled the antiquaries, but has since been explained. there is (or rather was, for it has now gone to paris) the will of napoleon abusing "the oligarch" wellington, and leaving , francs to the french officer cantello, who was accused of a desire to assassinate the "iron duke." there are also the wills of vandyke the painter, who died close by; inigo jones, ben jonson's rival in the court masques of james and charles; sir isaac newton, dr. johnson, good old izaak walton, and indeed almost everybody who had property in the south. [illustration: heralds' college. (_from an old print._)] chapter xxv. heralds' college. early homes of the heralds--the constitution of the herald's college--garter king at arms--clarencieux and norroy--the pursuivants--duties and privileges of heralds--good, bad, and jovial heralds--a notable norroy king at arms--the tragic end of two famous heralds--the college of arms' library. turning from the black dome of st. paul's, and the mean archway of dean's court, into a region of gorgeous blazonments, we come to that quiet and grave house, like an old nobleman's, that stands aside from the new street from the embankment, like an aristocrat shrinking from a crowd. the original heralds' college, cold harbour house, founded by richard ii., stood in poultney lane, but the heralds were turned out by henry vii., who gave their mansion to bishop tunstal, whom he had driven from durham place. the heralds then retired to ronceval priory, at charing cross (afterwards northumberland place). queen mary, however, in gave gilbert dethick, garter king of arms, and the other heralds and pursuivants, their present college, formerly derby house, which had belonged to the first earl of derby, who married lady margaret, countess of richmond, mother to king henry vii. the grant specified that there the heralds might dwell together, and "at meet times congregate, speak, confer, and agree among themselves, for the good government of the faculty." [illustration: the last heraldic court. (_from an old picture in the heralds' college; the figures by rowlandson, architecture by wash._)] the college of arms, on the east side of st. bennet's hill, was swept before the great fire of ; but all the records and books, except one or two, were preserved. the estimate for the rebuilding was only £ , , but the city being drained of money, it was attempted to raise the money by subscription; only £ was so raised, the rest was paid from office fees, sir william dugdale building the north-west corner at his own charge, and sir henry st. george, clarencieux, giving £ . this handsome and dignified brick building, completed in , is ornamented with ionic pilasters, that support an angular pediment, and the "hollow arch of the gateway" was formerly considered a curiosity. the central wainscoted hall is where the courts of sessions were at one time held; to the left is the library and search-room, round the top of which runs a gallery; on either side are the apartments of the kings, heralds, and pursuivants. "this corporation," we are told, "consists of thirteen members--viz., three kings at arms, six heralds at arms, and four pursuivants at arms; they are nominated by the earl marshal of england, as ministers subordinate to him in the execution of their offices, and hold their places patent during their good behaviour. they are thus distinguished:-- _kings at arms._ garter. clarencieux. norroy. _heralds._ somerset. richmond. lancaster. windsor. chester. york. _pursuivants._ rouge dragon. blue mantle. portcullis. rouge croix. "however ancient the offices of heralds may be, we have hardly any memory of their titles or names before edward iii. in his reign military glory and heraldry were in high esteem, and the patents of the king of arms at this day refer to the reign of king edward iii. the king created the two provincials, by the titles of clarencieux and norroy; he instituted windsor and chester heralds, and blue mantle pursuivant, beside several others by foreign titles. from this time we find the officers of arms employed at home and abroad, both in military and civil affairs: military, with our kings and generals in the army, carrying defiances and making truces, or attending tilts, tournaments, and duels; as civil officers, in negotiations, and attending our ambassadors in foreign courts; at home, waiting upon the king at court and parliament, and directing public ceremonies. "in the fifth year of king henry v. armorial bearings were put under regulations, and it was declared that no persons should bear coat arms that could not justify their right thereto by prescription or grant; and from this time they were communicated to persons as _insignia_, _gentilitia_, and hereditary marks of _noblesse_. about the same time, or soon after, this victorious prince instituted the office of garter king of arms; and at a chapter of the kings and heralds, held at the siege of rouen in normandy, on the th of january, , they formed themselves into a regular society, with a common seal, receiving garter as their chief. "the office of garter king at arms was instituted for the service of the most noble order of the garter; and, for the dignity of that order, he was made sovereign within the office of arms, over all the other officers, subject to the crown of england, by the name of garter king at arms of england. by the constitution of his office he must be a native of england, and a gentleman bearing arms. to him belongs the correction of arms, and all ensigns of arms, usurped or borne unjustly, and the power of granting arms to deserving persons, and supporters to the nobility and knights of the bath. it is likewise his office to go next before the sword in solemn processions, none interposing except the marshal; to administer the oath to all the officers of arms; to have a habit like the registrar of the order, baron's service in the court, lodgings in windsor castle; to bear his white rod, with a banner of the ensigns of the order thereon, before the sovereign; also, when any lord shall enter the parliament chamber, to assign him his place, according to his degree; to carry the ensigns of the order to foreign princes, and to do, or procure to be done, what the sovereign shall enjoin relating to the order, with other duties incident to his office of principal king of arms. the other two kings are called provincial kings, who have particular provinces assigned them, which together comprise the whole kingdom of england--that of clarencieux comprehending all from the river trent southwards; that of norroy, or north roy, all from the river trent northward. these kings at arms are distinguished from each other by their respective badges, which they may wear at all times, either in a gold chain or a ribbon, garters being blue, and the provincials purple. "the six heralds take place according to seniority in office. they are created with the same ceremonies as the kings, taking the oath of an herald, and are invested with a tabard of the royal arms embroidered upon satin, not so rich as the kings', but better than the pursuivants', with a silver collar of ss.; they are esquires by creation. "the four pursuivants are also created by the duke of norfolk, the earl marshal, when they take their oath of a pursuivant, and are invested with a tabard of the royal arms upon damask. it is the duty of the heralds and pursuivants to attend on the public ceremonials, one of each class together by a monthly rotation. "these heralds are the king's servants in ordinary, and therefore, in the vacancy of the office of earl marshal, have been sworn into their offices by the lord chamberlain. their meetings are termed chapters, which they hold the first thursday in every month, or oftener if necessary, wherein all matters are determined by a majority of voices, each king having two voices." one of the earliest instances of the holding an heraldic court was that in the time of richard ii., when the scropes and grosvenors had a dispute about the right to bear certain arms. john of gaunt and chaucer were witnesses on this occasion; the latter, who had served in france during the wars of edward iii., and had been taken prisoner, deposing to seeing a certain cognizance displayed during a certain period of the campaign. the system of heraldic visitations, when the pedigrees of the local gentry were tested, and the arms they bore approved or cancelled, originated in the reign of henry viii. the monasteries, with their tombs and tablets and brasses, and their excellent libraries, had been the great repositories of the provincial genealogies, more especially of the abbeys' founders and benefactors. these records were collected and used by the heralds, who thus as it were preserved and carried on the monastic genealogical traditions. these visitations were of great use to noble families in proving their pedigrees, and preventing disputes about property. the visitations continued till (james ii.), but a few returns, says mr. noble, were made as late as . why they ceased in the reign of william of orange is not known; perhaps the respect for feudal rank decreased as the new dynasty grew more powerful. the result of the cessation of these heraldic assizes, however, is that american gentlemen, whose puritan ancestors left england during the persecutions of charles ii., are now unable to trace their descent, and the heraldic gap can never be filled up. three instances only of the degradation of knights are recorded in three centuries' records of the court of honour. the first was that of sir andrew barclay, in ; of sir ralph grey, in ; and of sir francis michell, in , the last knight being convicted of heinous offences and misdemeanours. on this last occasion the knights' marshals' men cut off the offender's sword, took off his spurs and flung them away, and broke his sword over his head, at the same time proclaiming him "an infamous arrant knave." the earl marshal's office--sometimes called the court of honour--took cognizance of words supposed to reflect upon the nobility. sir richard grenville was fined heavily for having said that the duke of suffolk was a base lord; and sir george markham in the enormous sum of £ , , for saying, when he had horsewhipped the huntsman of lord darcy, that he would do the same to his master if he tried to justify his insolence. in the legality of the court was tried in the star chamber by a contumacious herald, who claimed arrears of fees, and to king james's delight the legality of the court was fully established. in (charles i.) mr. hyde (afterwards lord chancellor clarendon) proposed doing away with the court, vexatious causes multiplying, and very arbitrary authority being exercised. he particularly cited a case of great oppression, in which a rich citizen had been ruined in his estate and imprisoned, for merely calling an heraldic swan a goose. after the restoration, says mr. planché, in knight's "london," the duke of norfolk, hereditary earl marshal, hoping to re-establish the court, employed dr. plott, the learned but credulous historian of staffordshire, to collect the materials for a history of the court, which, however, was never completed. the court, which had outlived its age, fell into desuetude, and the last cause heard concerning the right of bearing arms (blount _versus_ blunt) was tried in the year (george i.). in the old arbitrary times the earl marshal's men have been known to stop the carriage of a _parvenu_, and by force deface his illegally assumed arms. heralds' fees in the middle ages were very high. at the coronation of richard ii. they received £ , and marks at that of the queen. on royal birthdays and on great festivals they also required largess. the natural result of this was that, in the reign of henry v., william burgess, garter king of arms, was able to entertain the emperor sigismund in sumptuous state at his house at kentish town. the escutcheons on the south wall of the college--one bearing the legs of man, and the other the eagle's claw of the house of stanley--are not ancient, and were merely put up to heraldically mark the site of old derby house. in the rev. mark noble's elaborate "history of the college of arms" we find some curious stories of worthy and unworthy heralds. among the evil spirits was sir william dethick, garter king at arms, who provoked elizabeth by drawing out treasonable emblazonments for the duke of norfolk, and james i. by hinting doubts, as it is supposed, against the right of the stuarts to the crown. he was at length displaced. he seems to have been an arrogant, stormy, proud man, who used at public ceremonials to buffet the heralds and pursuivants who blundered or offended him. he was buried at st. paul's, in , near the grave of edward iii.'s herald, sir pain roet, guienne king at arms, and chaucer's father-in-law. another black sheep was cook, clarencieux king at arms in the reign of queen elizabeth, who was accused of granting arms to any one for a large fee, and of stealing forty or fifty heraldic books from the college library. there was also ralph brooke, york herald in the same reign, a malicious and ignorant man, who attempted to confute some of camden's genealogies in the "britannia." he broke open and stole some muniments from the office, and finally, for two felonies, was burnt in the hand at newgate. to such rascals we must oppose men of talent and scholarship like the great camden. this grave and learned antiquary was the son of a painter in the old bailey, and, as second master of westminster school, became known to the wisest and most learned men of london, ben jonson honouring him as a father, and burleigh, bacon, and lord broke regarding him as a friend. his "britannia" is invaluable, and his "annals of elizabeth" are full of the heroic and soaring spirit of that great age. camden's house, at chislehurst, was that in which the emperor napoleon has recently died. sir william le neve (charles i.), clarencieux, was another most learned herald. he is said to have read the king's proclamation at edgehill with great marks of fear. his estate was sequestered by the parliament, and he afterwards went mad from loyal and private grief and vexation. in charles ii.'s reign we find the famous antiquary, elias ashmole, windsor herald for several years. he was the son of a lichfield saddler, and was brought up as a chorister-boy. that impostor, lilly, calls him the "greatest virtuoso and curioso" that was ever known or read of in england; for he excelled in music, botany, chemistry, heraldry, astrology, and antiquities. his "history of the order of the garter" formed no doubt part of his studies at the college of arms. in the same reign as ashmole, that great and laborious antiquary, sir william dugdale, was garter king of arms. in early life he became acquainted with spelman, an antiquary as profound as himself, and with the same mediæval power of work. he fought for king charles in the civil wars. his great work was the "monasticon anglicanum," three volumes folio, which disgusted the puritans and delighted the catholics. his "history of warwickshire" was considered a model of county histories. his "baronage of england" contained many errors. in his visitations he was very severe in defacing fictitious arms. francis sandford, first rouge dragon pursuivant, and then lancaster herald (charles ii., james ii.), published an excellent "genealogical history of england," and curious accounts of the funeral of general monk and the coronation of james ii. he was so attached to james that he resigned his office at the revolution, and died, true to the last, old, poor and neglected, somewhere in bloomsbury, in . sir john vanbrugh, the witty dramatist, for building castle howard, was made clarencieux king of arms, to the great indignation of the heralds, whose pedantry he ridiculed. he afterwards sold his place for £ , , avowing ignorance of his profession and his constant neglect of his official duties. in the same reign, to peter le neve (norroy) we are indebted for the careful preservation of the invaluable "paxton letters," of the reigns of henry vi., edward iv., and richard iii., purchased and afterwards published by sir john fenn. another eminent herald was john anstis, created garter in (george i.), after being imprisoned as a jacobite. he wrote learned works on the orders of the garter and the bath, and left behind him valuable materials--his ms. for the "history of the college of arms," now preserved in the library. francis grose, that roundabout, jovial friend of burns, was richmond herald for many years, but he resigned his appointment in , to become adjutant and paymaster of the hampshire militia. grose was the son of a swiss jeweller, who had settled in london. his "views of antiquities in england and wales" helped to restore a taste for gothic art. he died in . of oldys, that eccentric antiquary, who was norroy king at arms in the reign of george ii.--the duke of norfolk having appointed him from the pleasure he felt at the perusal of his "life of sir walter raleigh"--grose gives an amusing account:-- "william oldys, norroy king at arms," says grose, "author of the 'life of sir walter raleigh,' and several others in the 'biographia britannica,' was natural son of a dr. oldys, in the commons, who kept his mother very privately, and probably very meanly, as when he dined at a tavern he used to beg leave to send home part of the remains of any fish or fowl for his _cat_, which cat was afterwards found out to be mr. oldys' mother. his parents dying when he was very young, he soon squandered away his small patrimony, when he became first an attendant in lord oxford's library and afterwards librarian. he was a little mean-looking man, of a vulgar address, and, when i knew him, rarely sober in the afternoon, never after supper. his favourite liquor was porter, with a glass of gin between each pot. dr. ducarrel told me he used to stint oldys to three pots of beer whenever he visited him. oldys seemed to have little classical learning, and knew nothing of the sciences; but for index-reading, title-pages, and the knowledge of scarce english books and editions, he had no equal. this he had probably picked up in lord oxford's service, after whose death he was obliged to write for the booksellers for a subsistence. amongst many other publications, chiefly in the biographical line, he wrote the 'life of sir walter raleigh,' which got him much reputation. the duke of norfolk, in particular, was so pleased with it that he resolved to provide for him, and accordingly gave him the patent of norroy king at arms, then vacant. the patronage of that duke occasioned a suspicion of his being a papist, though i really think without reason; this for a while retarded his appointment. it was underhand propagated by the heralds, who were vexed at having a stranger put in upon them. he was a man of great good-nature, honour, and integrity, particularly in his character as an historian. nothing, i firmly believe, would ever have biassed him to insert any fact in his writings he did not believe, or to suppress any he did. of this delicacy he gave an instance at a time when he was in great distress. after the publication of his 'life of sir walter raleigh,' some booksellers, thinking his name would sell a piece they were publishing, offered him a considerable sum to father it, which he refused with the greatest indignation. he was much addicted to low company; most of his evenings he spent at the 'bell' in the old bailey, a house within the liberties of the fleet, frequented by persons whom he jocularly called _rulers_, from their being confined to the rules or limits of that prison. from this house a watchman, whom he kept regularly in pay, used to lead him home before twelve o'clock, in order to save sixpence paid to the porter of the heralds' office, by all those who came home after that time; sometimes, and not unfrequently, two were necessary. he could not resist the temptation of liquor, even when he was to officiate on solemn occasions; for at the burial of the princess caroline he was so intoxicated that he could scarcely walk, but reeled about with a crown 'coronet' on a cushion, to the great scandal of his brethren. his method of composing was somewhat singular. he had a number of small parchment bags inscribed with the names of the persons whose lives he intended to write; into these bags he put every circumstance and anecdote he could collect, and from thence drew up his history. by his excesses he was kept poor, so that he was frequently in distress; and at his death, which happened about five on wednesday morning, april th, , he left little more than was sufficient to bury him. dr. taylor, the oculist, son of the famous doctor of that name and profession, claimed administration at the commons, on account of his being _nullius filius_--anglicè, a bastard. he was buried the th following, in the north aisle of the church of st. benet, paul's wharf, towards the upper end of the aisle. he was about seventy-two years old. amongst his works is a preface to izaak walton's 'angler.'" the following pretty anacreontic, on a fly drinking out of his cup of ale, which is doubtless well known, is from the pen of oldys:-- "busy, curious, thirsty fly, drink with me, and drink as i; freely welcome to my cup, couldst thou sip and sip it up. make the most of life you may; life is short, and wears away. "both alike are mine and thine, hastening quick to their decline; thine's a summer, mine no more, though repeated to threescore; threescore summers, when they're gone, will appear as short as one." the rev. mark noble comments upon grose's text by saying that this story of the crown must be incorrect, as the coronet at the funeral of a princess is always carried by clarencieux, and not by norroy. in , two eminent heralds, benjamin pingo, york herald, and john charles brooke, somerset herald, were crushed to death in a crowd at the side door of the haymarket theatre. mr. brooke had died standing, and was found as if asleep, and with colour still in his cheeks. edmund lodge, lancaster herald, who died in , is chiefly known for his interesting series of "portraits of illustrious british personages," accompanied by excellent genealogical and biographical memoirs. during the middle ages heralds were employed to bear letters, defiances, and treaties to foreign princes and persons in authority; to proclaim war, and bear offers of marriage, &c.; and after battles to catalogue the dead, and note their rank by the heraldic bearings on their banners, shields, and tabards. in later times they were allowed to correct false crests, arms, and cognizances, and register noble descents in their archives. they conferred arms on those who proved themselves able to maintain the state of a gentleman, they marshalled great or rich men's funerals, arranged armorial bearings for tombs and stained-glass windows, and laid down the laws of precedence at state ceremonials. arms, it appears from mr. planché, were sold to the "new rich" as early as the reign of king henry viii., who wished to make a new race of gentry, in order to lessen the power of the old nobles. the fees varied then from £ s. d. to £ . [illustration: sword, dagger, and ring of king james of scotland. (_preserved in the heralds' college._)] in the old times the heralds' messengers were called knights caligate. after seven years they became knight-riders (our modern queen's messengers); after seven years more they became pursuivants, and then heralds. in later times, says mr. planché, the herald's honourable office was transferred to nominees of the tory nobility, discarded valets, butlers, or sons of upper servants. mr. canning, when premier, very properly put a stop to this system, and appointed to this post none but young and intelligent men of manners and education. among the many curious volumes of genealogy in the library of the college of arms--volumes which have been the result of centuries of exploring and patient study--the following are chiefly noticeable:--a book of emblazonment executed for prince arthur, the brother of henry viii., who died young, and whose widow henry married; the warwick roll, a series of figures of all the earls of warwick from the conquest to the reign of richard iii., executed by rouse, a celebrated antiquary of warwick, at the close of the fifteenth century; and a tournament roll of henry viii., in which that stalwart monarch is depicted in regal state, with all the "pomp, pride, and circumstance of glorious (mimic) war." in the gallery over the library are to be seen the sword and dagger which belonged to the unfortunate james of scotland, that chivalrous king who died fighting to the last on the hill at flodden. the sword-hilt has been enamelled, and still shows traces of gilding which has once been red-wet with the southron's blood; and the dagger is a strong and serviceable weapon, as no doubt many an english archer and billman that day felt. the heralds also show the plain turquoise ring which tradition says the french queen sent james, begging him to ride a foray in england. copies of it have been made by the london jewellers. these trophies are heirlooms of the house of howard, whose bend argent, to use the words of mr. planché, received the honourable augmentation of the scottish lion, in testimony of the prowess displayed by the gallant soldier who commanded the english forces on that memorable occasion. here is also to be seen a portrait of talbot, earl of shrewsbury (the great warrior), from his tomb in old st. paul's; a curious pedigree of the saxon kings from adam, illustrated with many beautiful drawings in pen and ink, about the period of henry viii., representing the creation, adam and eve in paradise, the building of babel, the rebuilding of the temple, &c. &c.; mss., consisting chiefly of heralds' visitations, records of grants of arms and royal licences; records of modern pedigrees (_i.e._, since the discontinuance of the visitations in ); a most valuable collection of official funeral certificates; a portion of the arundel mss.; the shrewsbury or cecil papers, from which lodge derived his well-known "illustrations of british history;" notes, &c., made by glover, vincent, philpot, and dugdale; a volume in the handwriting of the venerable camden ("clarencieux"); the collections of sir edward walker, secretary at war (_temp._ charles i.). [illustration: linacre's house. _from a print in the "gold-headed cane"_ (_see page _).] the wardrobe, a house long belonging to the government, in the blackfriars, was built by sir john beauchamp (died ), whose tomb in old st. paul's was usually taken for the tomb of the good duke humphrey. beauchamp's executors sold it to edward iii., and it was subsequently converted into the office of the master of the wardrobe, and the repository for the royal clothes. when stow drew up his "survey," sir john fortescue was lodged in the house as master of the wardrobe. what a royal ragfair this place must have been for rummaging antiquaries, equal to twenty madame tussaud's and all the ragged regiments of westminster abbey put together! "there were also kept," says fuller, "in this place the ancient clothes of our english kings, which they wore on great festivals; so that this wardrobe was in effect a library for antiquaries, therein to read the mode and fashion of garments in all ages. these king james in the beginning of his reign gave to the earl of dunbar, by whom they were sold, re-sold, and re-re-re-sold at as many hands almost as briareus had, some gaining vast estates thereby." (fuller's "worthies.") we mentioned before that shakespeare in his will left to his favourite daughter, susannah, the warwickshire doctor's wife, a house near the wardrobe; but the exact words of the document may be worth quoting:-- "i gyve, will, bequeath," says the poet, "and devise unto my daughter, susannah hall, all that messuage or tenement, with the appurtenances, wherein one john robinson dwelleth, situat, lying, and being in the blackfriars in london, nere the wardrobe." after the great fire the wardrobe was removed, first to the savoy, and afterwards to buckingham street, in the strand. the last master was ralph, duke of montague, on whose death, in , the office, says cunningham, was, "i believe, abolished." swan alley, near the wardrobe, reminds us of the beauchamps, for the swan was the cognizance of the beauchamp family, long distinguished residents in this part of london. in the council register of the th of august, , there may be seen "a list of buildings and foundations since ." it is therein said that "edward alleyn, esq., dwelling at dulwich (the well-known player and founder of dulwich college), had built six tenements of timber upon new foundations, within two years past, in swan alley, near the wardrobe." in great carter lane stood the old bell inn, whence, in , richard quyney directs a letter "to my loving good friend and countryman, mr. wm. shackespeare, deliver thees"--the only letter addressed to shakespeare known to exist. the original was in the possession of mr. r.b. wheeler, of stratford-upon-avon. stow mixes up the old houses near doctors' commons with rosamond's bower at woodstock. "upon paul's wharf hill," he says, "within a great gate, next to the doctors' commons, were many fair tenements, which, in their leases made from the dean and chapter, went by the name of _camera dianæ_--_i.e._, diana's chamber, so denominated from a spacious building that in the time of henry ii. stood where they were. in this camera, an arched and vaulted structure, full of intricate ways and windings, this henry ii. (as some time he did at woodstock) kept, or was supposed to have kept, that jewel of his heart, fair _rosamond_, she whom there he called _rosamundi_, and here by the name of diana; and from hence had this house that title. "for a long time there remained some evident testifications of tedious turnings and windings, as also of a passage underground from this house to castle baynard; which was, no doubt, the king's way from thence to his camera dianæ, or the chamber of his brightest diana." st. anne's, within the precinct of the blackfriars, was pulled down with the friars church by sir thomas cawarden, master of the revels; but in the reign of queen mary, he being forced to find a church to the inhabitants, allowed them a lodging chamber above a stair, which since that time, to wit in the year , fell down, and was again, by collection therefore made, new built and enlarged in the same year. the parish register records the burials of isaac oliver, the miniature painter ( ), dick robinson, the player ( ), nat. field, the poet and player ( - ), william faithorn, the engraver ( ); and there are the following interesting entries relating to vandyck, who lived and died in this parish, leaving a sum of money in his will to its poor:-- "jasper lanfranch, a dutchman, from sir anthony vandikes, buried th february, ." "martin ashent, sir anthony vandike's man, buried th march, ." "justinia, daughter to sir anthony vandyke and his lady, baptised th december, ." the child was baptised on the very day her illustrious father died. a portion of the old burying-ground is still to be seen in church-entry, ireland yard. "in this parish of st. benet's, in thames street," says stow, "stood le neve inn, belonging formerly to john de mountague, earl of salisbury, and after to sir john beauchamp, kt., granted to sir thomas erpingham, kt., of erpingham in norfolk, and warden of the cinque ports, knight of the garter. by the south end of adle street, almost against puddle wharf, there is one antient building of stone and timber, builded by the lords of berkeley, and therefore called berkeley's inn. this house is now all in ruin, and letten out in several tenements; yet the arms of the lord berkeley remain in the stone-work of an arched gate; and is between a chevron, crosses ten, three, three, and four." richard beauchamp, earl of warwick, was lodged in this house, then called berkeley's inn, in the parish of st. andrew, in the reign of henry vi. st. andrew's wardrobe church is situated upon rising ground, on the east side of puddle-dock hill, in the ward of castle baynard. the advowson of this church was anciently in the noble family of fitzwalter, to which it probably came by virtue of the office of constable of the castle of london (that is, baynard's castle). that it is not of a modern foundation is evident by its having had robert marsh for its rector, before the year . this church was anciently denominated "st. andrew juxta baynard's castle," from its vicinity to that palace. "knightrider street was so called," says stow, "(as is supposed), of knights riding from thence through the street west to creed lane, and so out at ludgate towards smithfield, when they were there to tourney, joust, or otherwise to show activities before the king and states of the realm." linacre's house in knightrider street was given by him to the college of physicians, and used as their place of meeting till the early part of the seventeenth century. in his student days linacre had been patronised by lorenzo de medicis, and at florence, under demetrius chalcondylas, who had fled from constantinople when it was taken by the turks, he acquired a perfect knowledge of the greek language. he studied eloquence at bologna, under politian, one of the most eloquent latinists in europe, and while he was at rome devoted himself to medicine and the study of natural philosophy, under hermolaus barbarus. linacre was the first englishman who read aristotle and galen in the original greek. on his return to england, having taken the degree of m.d. at oxford, he gave lectures in physic, and taught the greek language in that university. his reputation soon became so high that king henry vii. called him to court, and entrusted him with the care of the health and education of his son, prince arthur. to show the extent of his acquirements, we may mention that he instructed princess katharine in the italian language, and that he published a work on mathematics, which he dedicated to his pupil, prince arthur. his treatise on grammar was warmly praised by melancthon. this great doctor was successively physician to henry vii., henry viii., edward vi., and the princess mary. he established lectures on physic (says dr. macmichael, in his amusing book, "the gold-headed cane"), and towards the close of his life he founded the royal college of physicians, holding the office of president for seven years. linacre was a friend of lily, the grammarian, and was consulted by erasmus. the college of physicians first met in at linacre's house (now called the stone house), knightrider street, and which still belongs to the society. between the two centre windows of the first floor are the arms of the college, granted --a hand proper, vested argent, issuing out of clouds, and feeling a pulse; in base, a pomegranate between five demi fleurs-de-lis bordering the edge of the escutcheon. in front of the building was a library, and there were early donations of books, globes, mathematical instruments, minerals, &c. dissections were first permitted by queen elizabeth, in . as soon as the first lectures were founded, in , a spacious anatomical theatre was built adjoining linacre's house, and here the great dr. harvey gave his first course of lectures; but about the time of the accession of charles i. the college removed to a house of the dean and chapter of st. paul's, at the bottom of amen corner, where they planted a botanical garden and built an anatomical theatre. during the civil wars the parliament levied £ a week on the college. eventually sold by the puritans, the house and gardens were purchased by dr. harvey and given to the society. the great harvey built a museum and library at his own expense, which were opened in , and harvey, then nearly eighty, relinquished his office of professor of anatomy and surgery. the garden at this time extended as far west as the old bailey, and as far south as st. martin's church. harvey's gift consisted of a convocation room and a library, to which selden contributed some oriental ms., elias ashmole many valuable volumes, the marquis of dorchester £ ; and sir theodore mayerne, physician to four kings--viz., henry iv. of france, james i., charles i., and charles ii.--left his library. the old library was turned into a lecture and reception room, for such visitors as charles ii. who in attended here the anatomical prælections of dr. ent, whom he knighted on the occasion. this building was destroyed by the great fire, from which only folio books were saved. the college never rebuilt its premises, and on the site were erected the houses of three residentiaries of st. paul's. shortly after a piece of ground was purchased in warwick lane, and the new building opened in . a similar grant to that of linacre's was that of dr. lettsom, who in the year gave the house and library in bolt court, which is at the present moment occupied by the medical society of london. the view of linacre's house, in knightrider street, which we give on page , is taken from a print in the "gold-headed cane," an amusing work to which we have already referred. chapter xxvi. cheapside--introductory and historical. ancient reminiscences of cheapside--stormy days therein--the westchepe market--something about the pillory--the cheapside conduits--the goldsmiths' monopoly--cheapside market--gossip anent cheapside by mr. pepys--a saxon rienzi--anti-free-trade riots in cheapside--arrest of the rioters--a royal pardon--jane shore. what a wealth and dignity there is about cheapside; what restless life and energy; with what vigorous pulsation life beats to and fro in that great commercial artery! how pleasantly on a summer morning that last of the mohicans, the green plane-tree now deserted by the rooks, at the corner of wood street, flutters its leaves! how fast the crowded omnibuses dash past with their loads of young greshams and future rulers of lombard street! how grandly bow steeple bears itself, rising proudly in the sunshine! how the great webs of gold chains sparkle in the jeweller's windows! how modern everything looks, and yet only a short time since some workmen at a foundation in cheapside, twenty-five feet below the surface, came upon traces of primeval inhabitants in the shape of a deer's skull, with antlers, and the skull of a wolf, struck down, perhaps, more than a thousand years ago, by the bronze axe of some british savage. so the world rolls on: the times change, and we change with them. the engraving which we give on page is from one of the most ancient representations extant of cheapside. it shows the street decked out in holiday attire for the procession of the wicked old queen-mother, marie de medici, on her way to visit her son-in-law, charles i., and her wilful daughter, henrietta maria. the city records, explored with such unflagging interest by mr. riley in his "memorials of london," furnish us with some interesting gleanings relating to cheapside. in the old letter books in the guildhall--the black book, red book, and white book--we see it in storm and calm, observe the vigilant and jealous honesty of the guilds, and become witnesses again to the bloody frays, cruel punishments, and even the petty disputes of the middle-age craftsmen, when cheapside was one glittering row of goldsmiths' shops, and the very heart of the wealth of london. the records culled so carefully by mr. riley are brief but pregnant; they give us facts uncoloured by the historian, and highly suggestive glimpses of strange modes of life in wild and picturesque eras of our civilisation. let us take the most striking _seriatim_. in the candle-makers seem to have taken a fancy to cheapside, where the horrible fumes of that necessary but most offensive trade soon excited the ire of the rich citizens, who at last expelled seventeen of the craft from their sheds in chepe. in the third year of edward ii. it was ordered and commanded on the king's behalf, that "no man or woman should be so bold as henceforward to hold common market for merchandise in chepe, or any other highway within the city, except cornhill, after the hour of nones" (probably about two p.m.); and the same year it was forbidden, under pain of imprisonment, to scour pots in the roadway of chepe, to the hindrance of folks who were passing; so that we may conclude that in edward ii.'s london there was a good deal of that out-door work that the traveller still sees in the back streets of continental towns. holocausts of spurious goods were not uncommon in cheapside. in (edward ii.) we find that at the request of the hatters and haberdashers, search had been made for traders selling "bad and cheating hats," that is, of false and dishonest workmanship, made of a mixture of wool and flocks. the result was the seizure of forty grey and white hats, and fifteen black, which were publicly burnt in the street of chepe. what a burning such a search would lead to in our less scrupulous days! why, the pile would reach half way up st. paul's. illegal nets had been burnt opposite friday street in the previous reign. after the hats came a burning of fish panniers defective in measure; while in the reign of edward iii. some false chopins (wine measures) were destroyed. this was rough justice, but still the seizures seem to have been far fewer than they would be in our boastful epoch. there was a generous lavishness about the royalty of the middle ages, however great a fool or scoundrel the monarch might be. thus we read that on the safe delivery of queen isabel (wife of edward ii.), in , of a son, afterwards edward iii., the conduit in chepe, for one day, ran with nothing but wine, for all those who chose to drink there; and at the cross, hard by the church of st. michael in west chepe, there was a pavilion extended in the middle of the street, in which was set a tun of wine, for all passers-by to drink of. the mediæval guilds, useful as they were in keeping traders honest (heaven knows, it needs supervision enough, now!), still gave rise to jealousies and feuds. the sturdy craftsmen of those days, inured to arms, flew to the sword as the quickest arbitrator, and preferred clubs and bills to chancery courts and common pleas. the stones of chepe were often crimsoned with the blood of these angry disputants. thus, in (edward iii.), the saddlers and the joiners and bit-makers came to blows. in may of that year armed parties of these rival trades fought right and left in cheapside and cripplegate. the whole city ran to the windows in alarm, and several workmen were killed and many mortally wounded, to the great scandal of the city, and the peril of many quiet people. the conflict at last became so serious that the mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs had to interpose, and the dispute had to be finally settled at a great discussion of the three trades at the guildhall, with what result the record does not state. in this same reign of edward iii. the excessive length of the tavern signs ("ale-stakes" as they were then called) was complained of by persons riding in cheapside. all the taverners of the city were therefore summoned to the guildhall, and warned that no sign or bush (hence the proverb, "good wine needs no bush") should henceforward extend over the king's highway beyond the length of seven feet, under pain of a fine of forty pence to the chamber of the guildhall. in (edward iii.) two more guilds fell to quarrelling. this time it was the pelterers (furriers) and fishmongers, who seem to have tanned each other's hides with considerable zeal. it came at last to this, that the portly mayor and sheriffs had to venture out among the sword-blades, cudgels, and whistling volleys of stones, but at first with little avail, for the combatants were too hot. they soon arrested some scaly and fluffy misdoers, it is true; but then came a wild rush, and the noisy misdoers were rescued; and, most audacious of all, one thomas, son of john hansard, fishmonger, with sword drawn (terrible to relate), seized the mayor by his august throat, and tried to lop him on the neck; and one brawny rascal, john le brewere, a porter, desperately wounded one of the city serjeants: so that here, as the fishmongers would have observed, "there was a pretty kettle of fish." for striking a mayor blood for blood was the only expiation, and thomas and john were at once tried at the guildhall, found guilty on their own confession, and beheaded in chepe; upon hearing which edward iii. wrote to the mayor, and complimented him on his display of energy on this occasion. chaucer speaks of the restless 'prentices of cheap (edward iii.):-- "a prentis dwelled whilom in our citee-- at every bridale would he sing and hoppe; he loved bet the taverne than the shoppe-- for when ther eny riding was in chepe out of the shoppe thider wold he lepe, and til that he had all the sight ysein, and danced wel, he wold not come agen." (the coke's tale.) in the luxurious reign of richard ii. the guilds were again vigilant, and set fire to a number of caps that had been oiled with rank grease, and that had been frilled by the feet and not by the hand, "so being false and made to deceive the commonalty." in this same reign ( ), when the air was growing dark with coming mischief, an ordinance was passed, prohibiting secret huckstering of stolen and bad goods by night "in the common hostels," instead of the two appointed markets held every feast-day, by daylight only, in westchepe and cornhill. the westchepe market was held by day between st. lawrence lane and a house called "the cage," between the first and second bell, and special provision was made that at these markets no crowd should obstruct the shops adjacent to the open-air market. to close the said markets the "bedel of the ward" was to ring a bell (probably, says mr. riley, the bell on the tun, at cornhill) twice--first, an hour before sunset, and another final one half an hour later. another civic edict relating to markets occurs in (richard ii.), when the stands for stalls at the high cross of chepe were let by the mayor and chamberlain at s. d. each. at the same time the stalls round the brokers' cross, at the north door of st. paul's (erected by the earl of gloucester in henry iii.'s reign) were let at s. and s. d. each. the stationers, or vendors in small wares, on the taking down of the cross in , probably retired to paternoster row. the punishment of the pillory (either in cheapside or cornhill, the "letter book" does not say which) was freely used in the middle ages for scandal-mongers, dishonest traders, and forgers; and very deterring the shameful exposure must have been to even the most brazen offender. thus, in richard ii.'s reign, we find john le strattone, for obtaining thirteen marks by means of a forged letter, was led through chepe with trumpets and pipes to the pillory on "cornhalle" for one hour, on two successive days. for the sake of classification we may here mention a few earlier instances of the same ignominious punishment. in (edward iii.) nicholas mollere, a smith's servant, for spreading a lying report that foreign merchants were to be allowed the same rights as freemen of the city, was set in the pillory for one hour, with a whetstone hung round his neck. in the same heroic reign thomas lanbye, a chapman, for selling rims of base metal for cups, pretending them to be silver-gilt, was put in the pillory for two hours; while in (richard ii.) we find roger clerk, of wandsworth, for pretending to cure a poor woman of fever by a talisman wrapped in cloth of gold, was ridden through the city to the music of trumpets and pipes; and the same year a cook in bread street, for selling stale slices of cooked conger, was put in the pillory for an hour, and the said fish burned under his rascally nose. sometimes, however, the punishment awarded to these civic offenders consisted in less disgraceful penance, as, for instance, in the year (richard ii.), a man named highton, who had assaulted a worshipful alderman, was sentenced to lose his hand; but the man being a servant of the king, was begged off by certain lords, on condition of his walking through chepe and fleet street, carrying a lighted wax candle of three pounds' weight to st. dunstan's church, where he was to offer it on the altar. in , the year elizabeth sent her rash but brave young favourite, essex, with , men, to help henry iv. to besiege rouen, two fanatics named coppinger and ardington, the former calling himself a prophet of mercy and the latter a prophet of vengeance, proclaimed their mission in cheapside, and were at once laid by the heels. but the old public punishment still continued, for in (the year before the execution of essex) we read that "mrs. fowler's case was decided" by sentencing that lady to be whipped in bridewell; while a captain hermes was sent to the pillory, his brother was fined £ and imprisoned, and gascone, a soldier, was sentenced to ride to the cheapside pillory with his face to the horse's tail, to be there branded in the face, and afterwards imprisoned for life. in , when elizabeth was coquetting with anjou and the french marriage, we find in one of those careful lists of the papists of london kept by her subtle councillors, a mr. loe, vintner, of the "mitre," cheapside, who married dr. boner's sister (bishop bonner?). in , the year before the defeat of the armada, and when leicester's army was still in holland, doing little, and the very month that sir william stanley and , englishmen surrendered deventer to the prince of parma, we find the council writing to the lord mayor about a mutiny, requiring him "to see that the soldiers levied in the city for service in the low countries, who had mutinied against captain sampson, be punished with some severe and extraordinary correction. to be tied to carts and flogged through cheapside to tower hill, then to be set upon a pillory, and each to have one ear cut off." in the reign of james i. the same ignominious and severe punishment continued, for in one floyd (for we know not what offence) was fined £ , , sentenced to be whipped to the pillories of westminster and cheapside, to be branded in the face, and then imprisoned in newgate. to return to our historical sequence. in (richard ii.) it was ordered that every person selling fish taken east of london bridge should sell the same at the cornhill market; while all thames fish caught west of the bridge was to be sold near the conduit in chepe, and nowhere else, under pain of forfeiture of the fish. the eleventh year of richard ii. brought a real improvement to the growing city, for certain "substantial men of the ward of farringdon within" were then allowed to build a new water-conduit near the church of st. michael le quern, in westchepe, to be supplied by the great pipe opposite st. thomas of accon, providing the great conduit should not be injured; and on this occasion the earl of gloucester's brokers' cross at st. paul's was removed. early in the reign of henry v. complaints were made by the poor that the brewers, who rented the fountains and chief upper pipe of the cheapside conduit, also drew from the smaller pipe below, and the brewers were warned that for every future offence they would be fined s. d. in the fourth year of this chivalrous monarch a "hostiller" named benedict wolman, under-marshal of the marshalsea, was condemned to death for a conspiracy to bring a man named thomas ward, _alias_ trumpington, from scotland, to pass him off as richard ii. wolman was drawn through cornhill and cheapside to the gallows at tyburn, where he was "hanged and beheaded." [illustration: ancient view of cheapside. (_from la serre's "entrée de la revne mère de roy." showing the procession of mary de medicis._)] lydgate, that dull suffolk monk, who followed chaucer, though at a great distance, has, in his ballad of "lackpenny," described chepe in the reign of henry vi. the hero of the poem says-- "then to the chepe i gan me drawn, where much people i saw for to stand; one offered me velvet, silk, and lawn; another he taketh me by the hand, 'here is paris thread, the finest in the land.' i never was used to such things indeed, and, wanting money, i might not speed." in the traders of the goldsmiths' company began to complain that alien traders were creeping into and alloying the special haunts of the trade, goldsmiths' row and lombard street; and that foreign goldsmiths were selling counterfeit jewels, engrossing the business and impoverishing its members. city improvements were carried with a high hand in the reign of charles i., who, determined to clear cheapside of all but goldsmiths, in order to make the eastern approach to st. paul's grander, committed to the fleet some of the alien traders who refused to leave cheapside. this unfortunate monarch seems to have carried out even his smaller measures in a despotic and unjustifiable manner, as we see from an entry in the state papers, october , . it is a petition of william bankes, a cheapside tavern-keeper, and deposes:-- "petition of william bankes to the king. not fully twelve months since, petitioner having obtained a license under the great seal to draw wine and vent it at his house in cheapside, and being scarce entered into his trade, it pleased his majesty, taking into consideration the great disorders that grew by the numerous taverns within london, to stop so growing an evil by a total suppression of victuallers in cheapside, &c, by which petitioner is much decayed in his fortune. beseeches his majesty to grant him (he not being of the company of vintners in london, but authorised merely by his majesty) leave to victual and retail meat, it being a thing much desired by noblemen and gentlemen of the best rank and others (for the which, if they please, they may also contract beforehand, as the custom is in other countries), there being no other place fit for them to eat in the city." the foolish determination to make cheapside more glittering and showy seems again to have struck the weak despot, and an order of the council (november ) goes forth that--"whereas in goldsmith's row, in cheapside and lombard street, divers shops are held by persons of other trades, whereby that uniform show which was an ornament to those places and a lustre to the city is now greatly diminished, all the shops in goldsmith's row are to be occupied by none but goldsmiths; and all the goldsmiths who keep shops in other parts of the city are to resort thither, or to lombard street or cheapside." the next year we find a tradesman who had been expelled from goldsmiths' row praying bitterly to be allowed a year longer, as he cannot find a residence, the removal of houses in cheapside, lombard street, and st. paul's churchyard having rendered shops scarce. in the king returns again to the charge, and determines to carry out his tyrannical whim by the following order of the council:--"the council threaten the lord mayor and aldermen with imprisonment, if they do not forthwith enforce the king's command that all shops should be shut up in cheapside and lombard street that were not goldsmiths' shops." the council "had learned that there were still twenty-four houses and shops that were not inhabited by goldsmiths, but in some of them were one grove and widow hill, stationers; one sanders, a drugster; medcalfe, a cook; renatus edwards, a girdler; john dover, a milliner; and brown, a bandseller." in we discover from a letter of the dutch ambassador, van goch, to the states-general, that a great fire in cheapside, "the principal street of the city," had burned six houses. in this reign the cheapside market seems to have given great vexation to the cheapside tradesmen. in there is a state paper to this effect:-- "the inquest of cheap, cripplegate, cordwainer, bread street, and farringdon within wards, to the lord mayor and court of aldermen of london. in spite of orders to the contrary, the abuses of cheapside market continue, and the streets are so pestered and encroached on that the passages are blocked up and trade decays. request redress by fining those who allow stalls before their doors except at market times, or by appointing special persons to see to the matter, and disfranchise those who disobey; the offenders are 'marvellous obstinate and refractory to all good orders,' and not to be dealt with by common law." pepys, in his inimitable "diary," gives us two interesting glimpses of cheapside--one of the fermenting times immediately preceding the restoration, the other a few years later--showing the effervescing spirit of the london 'prentices of charles ii.'s time:-- " .--coming home, heard that in cheapside there had been but a little before a gibbet set up, and the picture of huson hung upon it in the middle of the street. (john hewson, who had been a shoemaker, became a colonel in the parliament army, and sat in judgment on the king. he escaped hanging by flight, and died in at amsterdam.) " .--so home, and in cheapside, both coming and going, it was full of apprentices, who have been here all this day, and have done violence, i think, to the master of the boys that were put in the pillory yesterday. but lord! to see how the trained bands are raised upon this, the drums beating everywhere as if an enemy were upon them--so much is this city subject to be put into a disarray upon very small occasions. but it was pleasant to hear the boys, and particularly one very little one, that i demanded the business of. he told me that that had never been done in the city since it was a city--two 'prentices put in the pillory, and that it ought not to be so." cheapside has been the scene of two great riots, which were threatening enough to render them historically important. the one was in the reign of richard i., the other in that of henry viii. the first of these, a violent protest against norman oppression, was no doubt fomented, if not originated, by the down-trodden saxons. it began thus:--on the return of richard from his captivity in germany, and before his fiery retaliation on france, a london citizen named william with the long beard (_alias_ fitzosbert, a deformed man, but of great courage and zeal for the poor), sought the king, and appealing to his better nature, laid before him a detail of great oppressions and outrages wrought by the mayor and rich aldermen of the city, to burden the humbler citizens and relieve themselves, especially at "the hoistings" when any taxes or tollage were to be levied. fitzosbert, encouraged at gaining the king's ear, and hoping too much from the generous but rapacious norman soldier, grew bolder, openly defended the causes of oppressed men, and thus drew round him daily great crowds of the poor. "many gentlemen of honour," says holinshed, "sore hated him for his presumptious attempts to the hindering of their purposes; but he had such comfort of the king that he little paused for their malice, but kept on his intent, till the king, being advertised of the assemblies which he made, commanded him to cease from such doings, that the people might fall again to their sciences and occupations, which they had for the most part left off at the instigation of this william with the long beard, which he nourished of purpose, to seem the more grave and manlike, and also, as it were, in despite of them which counterfeited the normans (that were for the most part shaven), and because he would resemble the ancient usage of the english nation. the king's commandment in restraint of people's resort unto him was well kept for a time, but it was not long before they began to follow him again as they had done before. then he took upon him to make unto them certain speeches. by these and such persuasions and means as he used, he had gotten two and fifty thousand persons ready to have taken his part." how far this english rienzi intended to obtain redress by force we cannot clearly discover; but he does not seem to have been a man who would have stopped at anything to obtain justice for the oppressed--and that the normans were oppressors, till they became real englishmen, there can be no doubt. the rich citizens and the norman nobles, who had clamped the city fast with fortresses, soon barred out longbeard from the king's chamber. the archbishop of canterbury especially, who ruled the city, called together the rich citizens, excited their fears, and with true priestly craft persuaded them to give sure pledges that no outbreak should take place, although he denied all belief in the possibility of such an event. the citizens, overcome by his oily and false words, willingly gave their pledges, and were from that time in the archbishop's power. the wily prelate then, finding the great demagogue was still followed by dangerous and threatening crowds, appointed two burgesses and other spies to watch fitzosbert, and, when it was possible, to apprehend him. these men at a convenient time set upon fitzosbert, to bind and carry him off, but longbeard was a hero at heart and full of ready courage. snatching up an axe, he defended himself manfully, slew one of the archbishop's emissaries, and flew at once for sanctuary into the church of st. mary bow. barring the doors and retreating to the tower, he and some trusty friends turned it into a small fortress, till at last his enemies, gathering thicker round him and setting the steeple on fire, forced longbeard and a woman whom he loved, and who had followed him there, into the open street. as the deserted demagogue was dragged forth through the fire and smoke, still loth to yield, a son of the burgess whom he had stricken dead ran forward and stabbed him in the side. the wounded man was quickly overpowered, for the citizens, afraid to forfeit their pledges, did not come to his aid as he had expected, and he was hurried to the tower, where the expectant archbishop sat ready to condemn him. we can imagine what that drum-head trial would be like. longbeard was at once condemned, and with nine of his adherents, scorched and smoking from the fire, was sentenced to be hung on a gibbet at the smithfield elms. for all this, the fermentation did not soon subside; the people too late remembered how fitzosbert had pleaded for their rights, and braved king, prelate, and baron; and they loudly exclaimed against the archbishop for breaking sanctuary, and putting to death a man who had only defended himself against assassins, and was innocent of other crimes. the love for the dead man, indeed, at last rose to such a height that the rumour ran that miracles were wrought by even touching the chains by which he had been bound in the tower. he became for a time a saint to the poorer and more suffering subjects of the normans, and the place where he was beheaded in smithfield was visited as a spot of special holiness. but this riot of longbeard's was but the threatening of a storm. a tempest longer and more terrible broke over cheapside on "evil may day," in the reign of henry viii. its origin was the jealousy of the lombards and other foreign money-lenders and craftsmen entertained by the artisans and 'prentices of london. its actual cause was the seduction of a citizen's wife by a lombard named francis de bard, of lombard street. the loss of the wife might have been borne, but the wife took with her, at the italian's solicitation, a box of her husband's plate. the husband demanding first his wife and then his plate, was flatly refused both. the injured man tried the case at the guildhall, but was foiled by the intriguing foreigner, who then had the incomparable rascality to arrest the poor man for his wife's board. "this abuse," says holinshed, "was much hated; so that the same and manie other oppressions done by the lombards increased such a malice in the englishmen's hearts, that at the last it burst out. for amongst others that sore grudged these matters was a broker in london, called john lincolne, that busied himself so farre in the matter, that about palme sundie, in the eighth yeare of the king's reign, he came to one doctor henry standish with these words: 'sir, i understand that you shall preach at the sanctuarie, spittle, on mondaie in easter weeke, and so it is, that englishmen, both merchants and others, are undowne, for strangers have more liberty in this land than englishmen, which is against all reason, and also against the commonweal of the realm. i beseech you, therefore, to declare this in your sermon, and in soe doing you shall deserve great thanks of my lord maior and of all his brethren;' and herewith he offered unto the said doctor standish a bill containing this matter more at large.... dr. standish refused to have anything to do with the matter, and john lincolne went to dr. bell, a chanon of the same spittle, that was appointed likewise to preach upon the tuesday in easter weeke, whome he perswaded to read his said bill in the pulpit." this bill complained vehemently of the poverty of london artificers, who were starving, while the foreigners swarmed everywhere; also that the english merchants were impoverished by foreigners, who imported all silks, cloth of gold, wine, and iron, so that people scarcely cared even to buy of an englishman. moreover, the writer declared that foreigners had grown so numerous that, on a sunday in the previous lent, he had seen strangers shooting together at the popinjay. he also insisted on the fact of the foreigners banding in fraternities, and clubbing together so large a fund, that they could overpower even the city of london. lincoln having won over dr. bell to read the complaint, went round and told every one he knew that shortly they would have news; and excited the 'prentices and artificers to expect some speedy rising against the foreign merchants and workmen. in due time the sermon was preached, and dr. bell drew a strong picture of the riches and indolence of the foreigners, and the struggling and poverty of english craftsmen. the train was ready, and on such occasions the devil is never far away with the spark. the sunday after the sermon, francis de bard, the aforesaid lombard, and other foreign merchants, happened to be in the king's gallery at greenwich palace, and were laughing and boasting over bard's intrigue with the citizen's wife. sir thomas palmer, to whom they spoke, said, "sirs, you have too much favour in england;" and one william bolt, a merchant, added, "well, you lombards, you rejoice now; but, by the masse, we will one day have a fling at you, come when it will." and that saying the other merchants affirmed. this tale was reported about london. the attack soon came. "on the th of april, ," says holinshed, "some young citizens picked quarrels with the strangers, insulting them in various ways, in the streets; upon which certain of the said citizens were sent to prison. then suddenly rose a secret rumour, and no one could tell how it began, that on may-day next the city would rise against the foreigners, and slay them; insomuch that several of the strangers fled from the city. this rumour reached the king's council, and cardinal wolsey sent for the mayor, to ask him what he knew of it; upon which the mayor told him that peace should be kept. the cardinal told him to take pains that it should be. the mayor came from the cardinal's at four in the afternoon of may-day eve, and in all haste sent for his brethren to the guildhall; yet it was almost seven before they met. it was at last decided, with the consent of the cardinal, that instead of a strong watch being set, which might irritate, all citizens should be warned to keep their servants within doors on the dreaded day. the recorder and sir thomas more, of the king's privy council, came to the guildhall, at a quarter to nine p.m., and desired the aldermen to send to every ward, forbidding citizens' servants to go out from seven p.m. that day to nine a.m. of the next day. "after this command had been given," says the chronicler, "in the evening, as sir john mundie (an alderman) came from his ward, and found two young men in chepe, playing at the bucklers, and a great many others looking on (for the command was then scarce known), he commanded them to leave off; and when one of them asked why, he would have had him to the counter. then all the young 'prentices resisted the alderman, taking the young fellow from him, and crying ''prentices and clubs.' then out of every door came clubs and weapons. the alderman fled, and was in great danger. then more people arose out of every quarter, and forth came serving men, watermen, courtiers, and others; so that by eleven o'clock there were in chepe six or seven hundred; and out of paul's churchyard came , which knew not of the other. so out of all places they gathered, and broke up the counters, and took out the prisoners that the mayor had committed for hurting the strangers; and went to newgate, and took out studleie and petit, committed thither for that cause. "the mayor and sheriff made proclamation, but no heed was paid to them. herewith being gathered in plumps, they ran through st. nicholas' shambles, and at st. martin's gate there met with them sir thomas more, and others, desiring them to goe to their lodgings; and as they were thus intreating, and had almost persuaded the people to depart, they within st. martin's threw out stones, bats, and hot water, so that they hurt divers honest persons that were there with sir thomas more; insomuch as at length one nicholas downes, a sergeant of arms, being there with the said sir thomas more, and sore hurt amongst others, cried 'down with them!' and then all the misruled persons ran to the doors and windows of the houses round saint martin's, and spoiled all that they found. "after that they ran headlong into cornhill, and there likewise spoiled divers houses of the french men that dwelled within the gate of master newton's house, called queene gate. this master newton was a picard borne, and reputed to be a great favourer of frenchmen in their occupiengs and trades, contrary to the laws of the citie. if the people had found him, they had surelie have stricken off his head; but when they found him not, the watermen and certain young preests that were there, fell to rifling, and some ran to blanch-apelton, and broke up the strangers' houses and spoiled them. thus from ten or eleven of the clock these riotous people continued their outrageous doings, till about three of the clock, at what time they began to withdraw, and went to their places of resort; and by the way they were taken by the maior and the heads of the citie, and sent some of them to the tower, some to newgate, some to the counters, to the number of . "manie fled, and speciallie the watermen and preests and serving men, but the 'prentices were caught by the backs, and had to prison. in the meantime, whilst the hottest of this ruffling lasted, the cardinall was advertised thereof by sir thomas parre; whereon the cardinall strengthened his house with men and ordnance. sir thomas parre rode in all haste to richmond, where the king lay, and informed him of the matter; who incontinentlie sent forth hastilie to london, to understand the state of the citie, and was truely advertised how the riot had ceased, and manie of the misdoers apprehended. the lieutenant of the tower, sir roger cholmeleie (no great friend to the citie), in a frantike furie, during the time of this uprore, shot off certaine pieces of ordinance against the citie, and though they did no great harm, yet he won much evil will for his hastie doing, because men thought he did it of malice, rather than of any discretion. [illustration: beginning of the riot in cheapside (_see page _).] "about five o'clock, the earls of shrewsbury and surrey, thomas dockerin, lord of saint john's, george neville, lord of abergavenny, came to london with such force as they could gather in haste, and so did the innes of court. then were the prisoners examined, and the sermon of dr. bell brought to remembrance, and he sent to the tower. herewith was a commission of oyer and determiner, directed to the duke of norfolk and other lords, to the lord mayor of london, and the aldermen, and to all the justices of england, for punishment of this insurrection. (the citie thought the duke bare them a grudge for a lewd preest of his that the yeare before was slaine in chepe, insomuch that he then, in his fury, said, 'i pray god i may once have the citizens in my power!' and likewise the duke thought that they bare him no good will; wherefore he came into the citie with thirteen hundred men, in harnesse, to keepe the oier and determiner.) [illustration: cheapside cross, as it appeared in . (_showing part of the procession of edward vi. to his coronation, from a painting of the time._)] "at the time of the examination the streets were filled with harnessed men, who spake very opprobrious words to the citizens, which the latter, although two hundred to one, bore patiently. the inquiry was held at the house of sir john fineux, lord chief justice of england, neare to st. bride's, in fleet street. "when the lords were met at the guildhall, the prisoners were brought through the street, tied in ropes, some men, and some lads of thirteen years of age. among them were divers not of the city, some priests, some husbandmen and labourers. the whole number amounted unto two hundred, three score, and eighteen persons. eventually, thirteen were found guilty, and adjudged to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. eleven pairs of gallows were set up in various places where the offences had been committed, as at aldgate, blanch-appleton, gratious street, leaden hall, and before every counter. one also at newgate, st. martin's, at aldersgate, and bishopsgate. then were the prisoners that were judged brought to those places of execution, and executed in the most rigorous manner in the presence of the lord edward howard, son to the duke of norfolke, a knight marshal, who showed no mercie, but extreme crueltie to the poore yonglings in their execution; and likewise the duke's servants spake many opprobrious words. on thursday, may the th, was lincolne, shirwin, and two brethren called bets, and diverse other persons, adjudged to die; and lincolne said, 'my lords, i meant well, for if you knew the mischiefe that is insued in this realme by strangers, you would remedie it. and many times i have complained, and then i was called a busie fellow; now, our lord have mercie on me!' they were laid on hurdels and drawne to the standard in cheape, and first was john lincolne executed; and as the others had the ropes about their neckes, there came a commandment from the king to respit the execution. then the people cried, 'god save the king!' and so was the oier and terminer deferred till another daie, and the prisoners sent againe to ward. the armed men departed out of london, and all things set in quiet. "on the th of may, the king being at greenwich, the recorder of london and several aldermen sought his presence to ask pardon for the late riot, and to beg for mercy for the prisoners; which petition the king sternly refused, saying that although it might be that the substantial citizens did not actually take part in the riot, it was evident, from their supineness in putting it down, that they 'winked at the matter.' "on thursday, the nd of may, the king, attended by the cardinal and many great lords, sat in person in judgment in westminster hall, the mayor, aldermen, and all the chief men of the city being present in their best livery. the king commanded that all the prisoners should be brought forth, so that in came the poore yonglings and old false knaves, bound in ropes, all along one after another in their shirts, and everie one a halter about his necke, to the number of now foure hundred men and eleven women; and when all were come before the king's presence, the cardinall sore laid to the maior and commonaltie their negligence; and to the prisoners he declared that they had deserved death for their offense. then all the prisoners together cried, 'mercie, gratious lord, mercie!' herewith the lords altogither besought his grace of mercie, at whose sute the king pardoned them all. then the cardinal gave unto them a good exhortation, to the great gladnesse of the hearers. "now when the generall pardon was pronounced all the prisoners shouted at once, and altogither cast up their halters into the hall roofe, so that the king might perceive they were none of the discreetest sort. here is to be noticed that diverse offendors that were not taken, hearing that the king was inclined to mercie, came well apparelled to westminster, and suddenlie stripped them into their shirts with halters, and came in among the prisoners, willinglie to be partakers of the king's pardon; by which dooing it was well known that one john gelson, yeoman of the crowne, was the first that began to spoile, and exhorted others to doe the same; and because he fled and was not taken, he came in with a rope among the other prisoners, and so had his pardon. this companie was after called the 'black-wagon.' then were all the gallows within the citie taken downe, and many a good prayer said for the king." jane shore, that beautiful but frail woman, who married a goldsmith in lombard street, and was the mistress of edward iv., was the daughter of a merchant in cheapside. drayton describes her minutely from a picture extant in elizabeth's time, but now lost. "her stature," says the poet, "was meane; her haire of a dark yellow; her face round and full; her eye gray, delicate harmony being between each part's proportion and each proportion's colour; her body fat, white, and smooth; her countenance cheerful, and like to her condition. the picture i have seen of her was such as she rose out of her bed in the morning, having nothing on but a rich mantle cast under one arme over her shoulder, and sitting on a chair on which her naked arm did lie. shore, a young man of right goodly person, wealth, and behaviour, abandoned her after the king had made her his concubine. richard iii., causing her to do open penance in st. paul's churchyard, _commanded that no man should relieve her_, which the tyrant did not so much for his hatred to sinne, but that, by making his brother's life odious, he might cover his horrible treasons the more cunningly." an old ballad quaintly describes her supposed death, following an entirely erroneous tradition:-- "my gowns, beset with pearl and gold, were turn'd to simple garments old; my chains and gems, and golden rings, to filthy rags and loathsome things. "thus was i scorned of maid and wife, for leading such a wicked life; both sucking babes and children small, did make their pastime at my fall. "i could not get one bit of bread, whereby my hunger might be fed, nor drink, but such as channels yield, or stinking ditches in the field. "thus weary of my life, at lengthe i yielded up my vital strength, within a ditch of loathsome scent, where carrion dogs did much frequent; "the which now, since my dying daye, is shoreditch call'd, as writers saye;[ ] which is a witness of my sinne, for being concubine to a king." sir thomas more, however, distinctly mentions jane shore being alive in the reign of henry viii., and seems to imply that he had himself seen her. "he (richard iii.) caused," says more, "the bishop of london to put her to an open penance, going before the cross in procession upon a sunday, with a taper in her hand; in which she went in countenance and face demure, so womanly, and albeit she were out of all array save her kirtle only, yet went she so fair and lovely, namely while the wondering of the people cast a comely red in her cheeks (of which she before had most miss), that her great shame was her much praise among those who were more amorous of her body than curious of her soul; and many good folk, also, who hated her living, and were glad to see sin corrected, yet pitied they more her penance than rejoiced therein, when they considered that the protector procured it more of a corrupt intent than any virtuous intention. "proper she was, and fair; nothing in her body that you would have changed, but if you would, have wished her somewhat higher. thus say they who knew her in her youth; albeit some who now see her (for yet she liveth) deem her never to have been well-visaged; whose judgment seemeth to me to be somewhat like as though men should guess the beauty of one long departed by her scalp taken out of the charnel-house. for now is she old, lean, withered, and dried up--nothing left but shrivelled skin and hard bone. and yet, being even such, whoso well advise her visage, might guess and devine which parts, how filled, would make it a fair face. "yet delighted men not so much in her beauty as in her pleasant behaviour. for a proper wit had she, and could both read well and write, merry in company, ready and quick of answer, neither mute nor full of babble, sometimes taunting without displeasure, and not without disport." footnotes: [ ] but it had this name long before, being so called from its being a common _sewer_ (vulgarly called _shore_) or drain. (see stow.) chapter xxvii. cheapside shows and pageants. a tournament in cheapside--the queen in danger--the street in holiday attire--the earliest civic show on record--the water processions--a lord mayor's show in queen elizabeth's reign--gossip about lord mayors' shows--splendid pageants--royal visitors at lord mayor's shows--a grand banquet in guildhall--george iii. and the lord mayor's show--the lord mayor's state coach--the men in armour--sir claudius hunter and elliston--stow and the midsummer watch. we do not hear much in the old chronicles of tournaments and shivered spears in cheapside, but of gorgeous pageants much. on coronation days, and days when our kings rode from the tower to westminster, or from castle baynard eastward, cheapside blossomed at once with flags and banners, rich tapestry hung from every window, and the very gutters ran with wine, so loyal and generous were the citizens of those early days. costume was bright and splendid in the middle ages, and heraldry kept alive the habit of contrasting and mingling colours. citizens were wealthy, and, moreover, lavish of their wealth. in these processions and pageants, cheapside was always the very centre of the show. there velvets and silks trailed; there jewels shone; there spearheads and axe-heads glittered; there breastplates and steel caps gleamed; there proud horses fretted; there bells clashed; there the mob clamoured; there proud, warlike, and beautiful faces showed, uncapped and unveiled, to the seething, jostling people; and there mayor and aldermen grew hottest, bowed most, and puffed out with fullest dignity. in order to celebrate the birth of the heir of england (the black prince, ), a great tournament was proclaimed in london. philippa and all the female nobility were invited to be present. thirteen knights were engaged on each side, and the tournament was held in cheapside, between wood street and queen street; the highway was covered with sand, to prevent the horses' feet from slipping, and a grand temporary wooden tower was erected, for the accommodation of the queen and her ladies. but scarcely had this fair company entered the tower, when the scaffolding suddenly gave way, and all present fell to the ground with the queen. though no one was injured, all were terribly frightened, and great confusion ensued. when the young king saw the peril of his wife, he flew into a tempest of rage, and vowed that the careless carpenters who had constructed the building should instantly be put to death. whether he would thus far have stretched the prerogative of an english sovereign can never be known (says miss strickland), for his angelic partner, scarcely recovered from the terror of her fall, threw herself on her knees before the incensed king, and so effectually pleaded for the pardon of the poor men, that edward became pacified, and forgave them. when the young princess, anne of bohemia, the first wife of the royal prodigal, richard ii., entered london, a castle with towers was erected at the upper end of cheapside. on the wooden battlements stood fair maidens, who blew gold leaf on the king, queen, and retinue, so that the air seemed filled with golden butterflies. this pretty device was much admired. the maidens also threw showers of counterfeit gold coins before the horses' feet of the royal cavalcade, while the two sides of the tower ran fountains of red wine. on the great occasion when this same anne, who had by this time supped full of troubles, and by whose entreaties the proud, reckless young king, who had, as it were, excommunicated the city and now forgave it, came again into chepe, red and white wine poured in fountains from a tower opposite the great conduit. the king and queen were served from golden cups, and at the same place an angel flew down in a cloud, and presented costly golden circlets to richard and his young wife. two days before the opening of parliament, in , katherine of valois, widow of henry v., entered the city in a chair of state, with her child sitting on her knee. when they arrived at the west door of st. paul's cathedral, the duke protector lifted the infant king from his chair and set him on his feet, and, with the duke of exeter, led him between them up the stairs going into the choir; then, having knelt at the altar for a time, the child was borne into the churchyard, there set upon a fair courser, and so conveyed through cheapside to his own manor of kennington. time went on, and the weak young king married the fair amazon of france, the revengeful and resolute margaret of anjou. at the marriage pageant maidens acted, at the cheapside conduit, a play representing the five wise and five foolish virgins. years after, the corpse of the same king passed along the same street; but no huzzas, no rejoicing now. it was on the day after the restoration of edward iv., when people dared not speak above a breath of what might be happening in the tower, that the corpse of henry vi. was borne through cheapside to st. paul's, barefaced, on a bier, so that all might see it, though it was surrounded by more brown bills and glaives than torches. by-and-by, after the fierce retribution of bosworth, came the tudors, culminating and ending with elizabeth. as elizabeth of york (henry vii.'s consort) went from the tower to westminster to be crowned, the citizens hung velvets and cloth of gold from the windows in chepe, and stationed children, dressed like angels, to sing praises to the queen as she passed by. when the queen's corpse was conveyed from the tower, where she died, in cheapside were stationed thirty-seven virgins, the number corresponding with the queen's age, all dressed in white, wearing chaplets of white and green, and bearing lighted tapers. as anne boleyn, during her short felicity, proceeded from the tower to westminster, on the eve of her coronation, the conduit of cheapside ran, at one end white wine, and at the other red. at cheapside cross stood all the aldermen, from amongst whom advanced master walter, the city recorder, who presented the queen with a purse, containing a thousand marks of gold, which she very thankfully accepted, with many goodly words. at the little conduit of cheapside was a rich pageant, full of melody and song, where pallas, venus, and juno gave the queen an apple of gold, divided into three compartments, typifying wisdom, riches, and felicity. when queen elizabeth, young, happy and regal, proceeded through the city the day before her coronation, as she passed through cheapside, she smiled; and being asked the reason, she replied, "because i have just heard one say in the crowd, 'i remember old king harry the eighth.'" when she came to the grand allegory of time and truth, at the little conduit, in cheapside, she asked, who an old man was that sat with his scythe and hour-glass. she was told "time." "time?" she repeated; "and time has brought me here!" in this pageant she spied that truth held a bible, in english, ready for presentation to her; and she bade sir john perrot (the knight nearest to her, who held up her canopy, and a kinsman, afterwards beheaded) to step forward and receive it for her; but she was informed such was not the regular manner of presentation, for it was to be let down into her chariot by a silken string. she therefore told sir john perrot to stay; and at the proper crisis, some verses being recited by truth, the book descended, "and the queen received it in both her hands, kissed it, clasped it to her bosom, and thanked the city for this present, esteemed above all others. she promised to read it diligently, to the great comfort of the bystanders." all the houses in cheapside were dressed with banners and streamers, and the richest carpets, stuffs, and cloth of gold tapestried the streets. at the upper end of chepe, the recorder presented the queen, from the city, with a handsome crimson satin purse, containing a thousand marks in gold, which she most graciously pocketed. there were trumpeters at the standard in chepe, and the city waits stood at the porch of st. peter's, cornhill. the city companies stretched in rows from fenchurch street to the little conduit in chepe, behind rails, which were hung with cloth. on an occasion when james i. and his wife visited the city, at the conduit, cheapside, there was a grand display of tapestry, gold cloth, and silks; and before the structure "a handsome apprentice was appointed, whose part it was to walk backwards and forwards, as if outside a shop, in his flat cap and usual dress, addressing the passengers with his usual cry for custom of, 'what d'ye lack, gentles? what will you buy? silks, satins, or taff--taf--fetas?' he then broke into premeditated verse:-- "'but stay, bold tongue! i stand at giddy gaze! be dim, mine eyes! what gallant train are here, that strikes minds mute, puts good wits in a maze? oh! 'tis our king, royal king james, i say! pass on in peace, and happy be thy way; live long on earth, and england's sceptre sway,'" &c. henrietta maria, that pretty, wilful queen of charles i., accompanied by the duke of buckingham and bassompierre, the french ambassador, went to what the latter calls _shipside_, to view the lord mayor's procession. she also came to a masquerade at the temple, in the costume of a city lady. mistress bassett, the great lace-woman of cheapside, went foremost of the court party at the temple carnival, and led the queen by the hand. but what are royal processions to the lord mayor's show? the earliest civic show on record, writes mr. fairholt, who made a specialty of this subject, took place in , on the passage of henry iii. and eleanor of provence through the city to westminster. they were escorted by the mayor, aldermen, and mounted citizens, apparelled in robes of embroidered silk, and each carrying in their hands a cup of gold or silver, in token of the privilege claimed by the city for the lord mayor to officiate as chief butler at the king's coronation. on the return of edward i. from the holy land the citizens, in the wildness of their loyalty, threw, it is said, handfuls of gold and silver out of window to the crowd. it was on the return of the same king from his scotch victories that the earliest known city pageant took place. each guild had its show. the fishmongers had gilt salmon and sturgeon, drawn by eight horses, and six-and-forty knights riding seahorses, followed by st. magnus (it was st. magnus' day), with , horsemen. mr. fairholt proved from papers still preserved by the grocers' company that water processions took place at least nineteen years earlier than the usual date ( ) set down for their commencement. sir john norman is mentioned by the city poet as the first lord mayor that rowed to westminster. he had silver oars, and so delighted the london watermen that they wrote a ballad about him, of which two lines only still exist-- "row thy boat, norman, row to thy leman." in the troublous reign of henry vi. the goldsmiths made a special stand for their privileges on lord mayor's day. they complained loudly that they had always ridden with the mayor to westminster and back, and that on their return to chepe they sit on horseback "above the cross afore the goldsmiths' row; but that on the morrow of the apostles simon and jude, when they came to their stations, they found the butchers had forestalled them, who would not budge for all the prayers of the wardens of the goldsmiths, and hence had arisen great variance and strife." the two guilds submitted to the lord mayor's arbitration, whereupon the mayor ruled that the goldsmiths should retain possession of their ancient stand. the first lord mayor's pageant described by the old chroniclers is that when anne boleyn "came from greenwich to westminster on her coronation day, and the mayor went to serve her as chief butler, according to ancient custom." hall expressly says that the water procession on that occasion resembled that of lord mayor's day. the mayor's barge, covered with red cloth (blue except at royal ceremonies), was garnished with goodly banners and streamers, and the sides hung with emblazoned targets. in the barge were "shalms, shagbushes, and divers other instruments, which continually made goodly harmony." fifty barges, filled with the various companies, followed, marshalled and kept in order by three light wherries with officers. before the mayor's barge came another barge, full of ordnance and containing a huge dragon (emblematic of the rouge dragon in the tudor arms), which vomited wild fire; and round about it stood terrible monsters and savages, also vomiting fire, discharging squibs, and making "hideous noises." by the side of the mayor's barge was the bachelors' barge, in which were trumpeters and other musicians. the decks of the mayor's barge, and the sail-yards, and top-castles were hung with flags and rich cloth of gold and silver. at the head and stern were two great banners, with the royal arms in beaten gold. the sides of the barge were hung with flags and banners of the haberdashers' and merchant adventurers' companies (the lord mayor, sir stephen peacock, was a haberdasher). on the outside of the barge shone three dozen illuminated royal escutcheons. on the left hand of this barge came another boat, in which was a pageant. a white falcon, crowned, stood upon a mount, on a golden rock, environed with white and red roses (anne boleyn's device), and about the mount sat virgins, "singing and playing sweetly." the mayor's company, the haberdashers, came first, then the mercers, then the grocers, and so on, the barges being garnished with banners and hung with arras and rich carpets. in - the water procession was very costly, and seven hundred pounds of gunpowder were burned. this is the first show of which a detailed account exists, and it is to be found recorded in the books of the ironmongers' company. [illustration: the lord mayor's procession. (from hogarth's "industrious apprentice.") (_see page ._)] [illustration: the marriage procession of anne boleyn (_see page _).] a curious and exact description of a lord mayor's procession in elizabeth's reign, written by william smith, a london haberdasher in , is still extant. the day after simon and jude the mayor went by water to westminster, attended by the barges of all the companies, duly marshalled and hung with emblazoned shields. on their return they landed at paul's wharf, where they took horse, "and in great pomp passed through the great street of the city called cheapside." the road was cleared by beadles and men dressed as devils, and wild men, whose clubs discharged squibs. first came two great standards, bearing the arms of the city and of the lord mayor's company; then two drums, a flute, and an ensign of the city, followed by seventy or eighty poor men, two by two, in blue gowns with red sleeves, each one bearing a pike and a target, with the arms of the lord mayor's company. these were succeeded by two more banners, a set of hautboys playing; after these came wyfflers, or clearers of the way, in velvet coats and gold chains, and with white staves in their hands. after the pageant itself paced sixteen trumpeters, more wyfflers to clear the way, and after them the bachelors--sixty, eighty, or one hundred--of the lord mayor's company, in long gowns, with crimson satin hoods. these bachelors were to wait on the mayor. then followed twelve more trumpeters and the drums and flutes of the city, an ensign of the mayor's company, the city waits in blue gowns, red sleeves, and silver chains; then the honourable livery, in long robes, each with his hood, half black, half red, on his left shoulder. after them came sheriffs' officers and mayor's officers, the common serjeant, and the chamberlain. before the mayor went the swordbearer in his cap of honour, the sword, in a sheath set with pearls, in his right hand; while on his left came the common cryer, with the great gilt club and a mace on his shoulder. the mayor wore a long scarlet gown, with black velvet hood and rich gold collar about his neck; and with him rode that fallen dignitary, the ex-mayor. then followed all the aldermen, in scarlet gowns and black velvet tippets, those that had been mayors wearing gold chains. the two sheriffs came last of all, in scarlet gowns and gold chains. about one thousand persons sat down to dinner at guildhall--a feast which cost the mayor and the two sheriffs £ , whereof the mayor disbursed £ . immediately after dinner they went to evening prayer at st. paul's, the poor men aforementioned carrying torches and targets. the dinner still continues to be eaten, but the service at st. paul's, as interfering with digestion, was abandoned after the great fire. in the evening farewell speeches were made to the lord mayor by allegorical personages, and painted posts were set up at his door. one of the most gorgeous lord mayor's shows was that of (james i.) devised by anthony munday, one of the great band of shakesperean dramatists, who wrote plays in partnership with drayton. the drawings for the pageant are still in the possession of the fishmongers' company. the new mayor was john leman, a member of that body (knighted during his mayoralty). the first pageant represented a buss, or dutch fishing-boat, on wheels. the fishermen in it were busy drawing up nets full of live fish and throwing them to the people. on the mast and at the head of the boat were the insignia of the company--st. peter's keys and two arms supporting a crown. the second pageant was a gigantic crowned dolphin, ridden by arion. the third pageant was the king of the moors riding on a golden leopard, and scattering gold and silver freely round him. he was attended by six tributary kings in gilt armour on horseback, each carrying a dart and gold and silver ingots. this pageant was in honour of the fishmongers' brethren, the goldsmiths. the fourth pageant was the usual pictorial pun on the lord mayor's name and crest. the car bore a large lemon-tree full of golden fruit, with a pelican in her nest feeding her young (proper). at the top of the tree sat five children, representing the five senses. the boys were dressed as women, each with her emblem--seeing, by an eagle; hearing, by a hart; touch, by a spider; tasting, by an ape; and smelling, by a dog. the fifth pageant was sir william walworth's bower, which was hung with the shields of all lord mayors who had been fishmongers. upon a tomb within the bower was laid the effigy in knightly armour of sir william, the slayer of wat tyler. five mounted knights attended the car, and a mounted man-at-arms bore wat tyler's head upon a dagger. in attendance were six trumpeters and twenty-four halberdiers, arrayed in light blue silk, emblazoned with the fishmongers' arms on the breast and walworth's on the back. then followed an angel with golden wings and crown, riding on horseback, who, on the lord mayor's approach, with a golden rod awoke sir william from his long sleep, and the two then became speakers in the interlude. the great central pageant was a triumphal car drawn by two mermen and two mermaids. in the highest place sat a guardian angel defending the crown of richard ii., who sat just below her. under the king sat female personifications of the royal virtues, truth, virtue, honour, temperance, fortitude, zeal, equity, conscience, beating down treason and mutiny, the two last being enacted "by burly men." in a seat corresponding with the king's sat justice, and below her authority, law, vigilance, peace, plenty, and discipline. shirley, the dramatist (charles i.) has described the show in his "contention for honour and riches" ( ). clod, a sturdy countryman, exclaims, "i am plain clod; i care not a beanstalk for the best _what lack you_ on you all. no, not the next day after simon and jude, when you go a-feasting to westminster with your galley-foist and your pot-guns, to the very terror of the paper whales; when you land in shoals, and make the understanders in cheapside wonder to see ships swim on men's shoulders; when the fencers flourish and make the king's liege people fall down and worship the devil and st. dunstan; when your whifflers are hanged in chains, and hercules club spits fire about the pageants, though the poor children catch cold that shone like painted cloth, and are only kept alive with sugar-plums; with whom, when the word is given, you march to guildhall, with every man his spoon in his pocket, where you look upon the giants, and feed like saracens, till you have no stomach to go to st. paul's in the afternoon. i have seen your processions, and heard your lions and camels make speeches, instead of grace before and after dinner. i have heard songs, too, or something like 'em; but the porters have had all the burden, who were kept sober at the city charge two days before, to keep time and tune with their feet; for, brag what you will of your charge, all your pomp lies upon their back." in "honoria and memoria," , shirley has again repeated this humorous and graphic description of the land and water pageants of the good citizens of the day; he has, however, abridged the general detail, and added some degree of indelicacy to his satire. he alludes to the wild men that cleared the way, and their fireworks, in these words: "i am not afeard of your green robin hoods, that fright with fiery club your pitiful spectators, that take pains to be stifled, and adore the wolves and camels of your company." pepys, always curious, always chatty, has, of course, several notices of lord mayors' shows; for instance:-- "oct. th, (restoration year).--i up early, it being my lord mayor's day (sir richard browne), and neglecting my office, i went to the wardrobe, where i met my lady sandwich and all the children; and after drinking of some strange and incomparably good clarett of mr. remball's, he and mr. townsend did take us, and set the young lords at one mr. nevill's, a draper in paul's churchyard; and my lady and my lady pickering and i to one mr. isaacson's, a linendraper at the 'key,' in cheapside, where there was a company of fine ladies, and we were very civilly treated, and had a very good place to see the pageants, which were many, and i believe good for such kind of things, but in themselves but poor and absurd. the show being done, we got to paul's with much ado, and went on foot with my lady pickering to her lodging, which was a poor one in blackfryars, where she never invited me to go in at all, which methought was very strange. lady davis is now come to our next lodgings, and she locked up the lead's door from me, which puts me in great disquiet. "oct. , .--up, it being lord mayor's day (sir anthony bateman). this morning was brought home my new velvet cloak--that is, lined with velvet, a good cloth the outside--the first that ever i had in my life, and i pray god it may not be too soon that i begin to wear it. i thought it better to go without it because of the crowde, and so i did not wear it. at noon i went to guildhall, and, meeting with mr. proby, sir r. ford's son, and lieutenant-colonel baron, a city commander, we went up and down to see the tables, where under every salt there was a bill of fare, and at the end of the table the persons proper for the table. many were the tables, but none in the hall but the mayor's and the lords of the privy council that had napkins or knives, which was very strange. we went into the buttry, and there stayed and talked, and then into the hall again, and there wine was offered and they drunk, i only drinking some hypocras, which do not break my vowe, it being, to the best of my present judgment, only a mixed compound drink, and not any wine. if i am mistaken, god forgive me! but i do hope and think i am not. by-and-by met with creed, and we with the others went within the several courts, and there saw the tables prepared for the ladies, and judges, and bishops--all great signs of a great dining to come. by-and-by, about one o'clock, before the lord mayor come, came into the hall, from the room where they were first led into, the chancellor, archbishopp before him, with the lords of the council, and other bishopps, and they to dinner. anon comes the lord mayor, who went up to the lords, and then to the other tables, to bid wellcome; and so all to dinner. i sat near proby, baron, and creed, at the merchant strangers' table, where ten good dishes to a messe, with plenty of wine of all sorts, of which i drank none; but it was very unpleasing that we had no napkins nor change of trenchers, and drunk out of earthen pitchers and wooden dishes. it happened that after the lords had half dined, came the french ambassador up to the lords' table, where he was to have sat; he would not sit down nor dine with the lord mayor, who was not yet come, nor have a table to himself, which was offered, but, in a discontent, went away again. after i had dined, i and creed rose and went up and down the house, and up to the ladies' room, and there stayed gazing upon them. but though there were many and fine, both young and old, yet i could not discern one handsome face there, which was very strange. i expected musique, but there was none, but only trumpets and drums, which displeased me. the dinner, it seems, is made by the mayor and two sheriffs for the time being, the lord mayor paying one half, and they the other; and the whole, proby says, is reckoned to come to about seven or eight hundred at most. being wearied with looking at a company of ugly women, creed and i went away, and took coach, and through cheapside, and there saw the pageants, which were very silly. the queene mends apace, they say, but yet talks idle still." in "london triumphant, or the city in jollity and splendour," was the title of jordan's pageant for sir robert hanson, of the grocers' company. the mayor, just against bow church, was saluted by three pageants; on the two side stages were placed two griffins (the supporters of the grocers' arms), upon which were seated two negroes, victory and gladness attending; while in the centre or principal stage behind reigned apollo, surrounded by fame, peace, justice, aurora, flora, and ceres. the god addressed the mayor in a very high-flown strain of compliment, saying-- "with oriental eyes i come to see, and gratulate this great solemnitie. it hath been often said, so often done, that all men will worship the rising sun. (_he rises._) such are the blessings of his beams. but now the rising sun, my lord, doth worship you." (_apollo bows politely to the lord mayor._) next was displayed a wilderness, with moors planting and labouring, attended by three pipers and several kitchen musicians that played upon tongs, gridirons, keys, "and other such like confused musick." above all, upon a mound, sat america, "a proper masculine woman, with a tawny face," who delivered a lengthy speech, which concluded the exhibition for that day. in the pageant in cheapside, which dignified sir thomas davies' accession as lord mayor, was "a scythian chariot of triumph," in which sat a fierce tamburlain, of terrible aspect and morose disposition, who was, however, very civil and complimentary upon the present occasion. he was attended by discipline, bearing the king's banner, conduct that of the mayor, courage that of the city, while victory displayed the flag of the drapers' company. the lions of the drapers' arms drew the car, led by "asian captive princes, in royal robes and crowns of gold, and ridden by two negro princes." the third pageant was "fortune's bower," in which the goddess sat with prosperity, gladness, peace, plenty, honour, and riches. a lamb stood in front, on which rode a boy, "holding the banner of the virgin." the fourth pageant was a kind of "chase," full of shepherds and others preparing cloth, dancing, tumbling, and curvetting, being intended to represent confusion. in the show of two giants, gogmagog and corineus, fifteen feet high (whose ancestors were probably destroyed in the great fire), appeared in two chariots, "merry, happy, and taking tobacco, to the great admiration and delight of all the spectators." their predecessors are spoken of by marston, the dramatist, stow, and bishop corbet. in (says mr. fairholt) the present guildhall giants were carved by richard saunders. in alderman lucas exhibited two wickerwork copies of gog and magog, fourteen feet high, their faces on a level with the first-floor windows of cheapside, and these monstrosities delighted the crowd. in (william iii.) sir william gore, mercer, being lord mayor, displayed at his pageant the famous "maiden chariot" of the mercers' company. it was drawn by nine white horses, ridden by nine allegorical personages--four representing the four quarters of the world, the other five the retinue of fame--and all sounding remorselessly on silver trumpets. fourteen pages, &c., attended the horses, while twenty lictors in silver helmets and forty attendants cleared a way for the procession. the royal virgin in the chariot was attended by truth and mercy, besides kettle-drummers and trumpeters. the quaintest thing was that at the guildhall banquet the virgin, surrounded by all her ladies and pages, dined in state at a separate table. the last lord mayor's pageant of the old school was in (queen anne), when sir samuel dashwood, vintner, entertained her majesty at the guildhall. poor elkanah settle (pope's butt) wrote the _libretto_, in hopes to revive a festival then "almost dropping into oblivion." on his return from westminster, the mayor was met at the blackfriars stairs by st. martin, patron of the vintners, in rich armour and riding a white steed. the generous saint was attended by twenty dancing satyrs, with tambourines; ten halberdiers, with rustic music; and ten roman lictors. at st. paul's churchyard the saint made a stand, and, drawing his sword, cut off half his crimson scarf, and gave it to some beggars and cripples who importuned him for charity. the pageants were fanciful enough, and poor settle must have cudgelled his dull brains well for it. the first was an indian galleon crowded by bacchanals wreathed with vines. on the deck of the grape-hung vessel sat bacchus himself, "properly drest." the second pageant was the chariot of ariadne, drawn by panthers. then came st. martin, as a bishop in a temple, and next followed "the vintage," an eight-arched structure, with termini of satyrs and ornamented with vines. within was a bar, with a beautiful person keeping it, with drawers (waiters), and gentlemen sitting drinking round a tavern table. on seeing the lord mayor, the bar-keeper called to the drawers-- "where are your eyes and ears? see there what honourable _gent_ appears! augusta's great prætorian lord--but hold! give me a goblet of true orient mould. and with," &c. in , the first year of the reign of king george ii., the king, queen, and royal family having received a humble invitation from the city to dine at guildhall, their majesties, the princess royal, and her royal highness the princess carolina, came into cheapside about three o'clock in the afternoon, attended by the great officers of the court and a numerous train of the nobility and gentry in their coaches, the streets being lined from temple bar by the militia of london, and the balconies adorned with tapestry. their majesties and the princesses saw the lord mayor's procession from a balcony near bow church. hogarth has introduced a later royal visitor--frederick, prince of wales--in a cheapside balcony, hung with tapestry, in his "industrious and idle apprentices" (plate xii.). a train-band man in the crowd is firing off a musket to express his delight. sir samuel fludyer, lord mayor of london in the year , the year of the marriage of good king george iii., appears to have done things with thoroughness. in a contemporary chronicle we find a very sprightly narrative of sir samuel's lord mayor's show, in which the king and queen, with "the rest of the royal family," participated--their majesties, indeed, not getting home from the guildhall ball until two in the morning. our sight-seer was an early riser. he found the morning foggy, as is common to this day in london about the th of november, but soon the fog cleared away, and the day was brilliantly fine--an exception, he notes, to what had already, in his time, become proverbial that the lord mayor's day is almost invariably a bad one. he took boat on the thames, that he might accompany the procession of state barges on their way to westminster. he reports "the silent highway" as being quite covered with boats and gilded barges. the barge of the skinners' company was distinguished by the outlandish dresses of strange-spotted skins and painted hides worn by the rowers. the barge belonging to the stationers' company, after having passed through one of the narrow arches of westminster bridge, and tacked about to do honour to the lord mayor's landing, touched at lambeth and took on board, from the archbishop's palace, a hamper of claret--the annual tribute of theology to learning. the tipple must have been good, for our chronicler tells us that it was "constantly reserved for the future regalement of the master, wardens, and court of assistants, and not suffered to be shared by the common crew of liverymen." he did not care to witness the familiar ceremony of swearing in the lord mayor in westminster hall, but made the best of his way to the temple stairs, where it was the custom of the lord mayor to land on the conclusion of the aquatic portion of the pageant. there he found some of the city companies already landed, and drawn up in order in temple lane, between two rows of the train-bands, "who kept excellent discipline." other of the companies were wiser in their generation; they did not land prematurely to cool their heels in temple lane, while the royal procession was passing along the strand, but remained on board their barges regaling themselves comfortably. the lord mayor encountered good samaritans in the shape of the master and benchers of the temple, who invited him to come on shore and lunch with them in the temple hall. every house from temple bar to guildhall was crowded from top to bottom, and many had scaffoldings besides; carpets and rich hangings were hung out on the fronts all the way along; and our friend notes that the citizens were not mercenary, but "generously accommodated their friends and customers gratis, and entertained them in the most elegant manner, so that though their shops were shut, they might be said to have kept open house." [illustration: figures of gog and magog set up in guildhall after the fire.] the royal procession, which set out from st. james's palace at noon, did not get to cheapside until near four, when in the short november day it must have been getting dark. our sight-seer, as the royal family passed his window, counted between twenty and thirty coaches-and-six belonging to them and to their attendants, besides those of the foreign ambassadors, officers of state, and the principal nobility. there preceded their majesties the duke of cumberland, princess amelia, the duke of york, in a new state coach; the princes william henry and frederic, the princess dowager of wales, and the princesses augusta and caroline in one coach, preceded by twelve footmen with black caps, followed by guards and a grand retinue. the king and queen were in separate coaches, and had separate retinues. our friend in the window of the "queen's arms" was in luck's way. from a booth at the eastern end of the churchyard the children of christ church hospital paid their respects to their majesties, the senior scholar of the grammar school reciting a lengthy and loyal address, after which the boys chanted "god save the king." at last the royal family got to the house of mr. barclay, the quaker, from the balcony of which, hung with crimson silk damask, they were to see, with what daylight remained, the civic procession that presently followed; but in the interval came mr. pitt, in his chariot, accompanied by earl temple. the great commoner was then in the zenith of his popularity, and our sight-seer narrates how, "at every step, the mob clung about every part of the vehicle, hung upon the wheels, hugged his footmen, and even kissed his horses. there was an universal huzza, and the gentlemen at the windows and the balconies waved their hats, and the ladies their handkerchiefs." the lord mayor's state coach was drawn by six beautiful iron-grey horses, gorgeously caparisoned, and the companies made a grand appearance. even a century ago, however, degeneracy had set in. our sight-seer complains that the armourers' and braziers', the skinners' and fishmongers' companies were the only companies that had anything like the pageantry exhibited of old on the occasion. the armourers sported an archer riding erect in his car, having his bow in his left hand, and his quiver and arrows hanging behind his left shoulder; also a man in complete armour. the skinners were distinguished by seven of their company being dressed in fur, having their skins painted in the form of indian princes. the pageant of the fishmongers consisted of a statue of st. peter finely gilt, a dolphin, two mermaids, and a couple of seahorses; all which duly passed before georgius rex as he leaned over the balcony with his charlotte by his side. [illustration: the royal banquet in guildhall. _from a contemporary print._ (_see page ._)] our chronicler understood well the strategic movements indispensable to the zealous sight-seer. as soon as the lord mayor's procession had passed him, he "posted along the back lanes, to avoid the crowd," and got to the guildhall in advance of the lord mayor. he had procured a ticket for the banquet through the interest of a friend, who was one of the committee for managing the entertainment, and also a "mazarine." it is explained that this was a kind of nickname given to the common councilmen, on account of their wearing mazarine blue silk gowns. he learned that the doors of the hall had been first opened at nine in the morning for the admission of ladies into the galleries, who were the friends of the committee men, and who got the best places; and subsequently at twelve for the general reception of all who had a right to come in. what a terrible spell of waiting those fortunate unfortunates comprising the earliest batch must have had! the galleries presented a very brilliant show, and among the company below were all the officers of state, the principal nobility, and the foreign ambassadors. the lord mayor arrived at half-past six, and the sheriffs went straight to mr. barclay's to conduct the royal family to the hall. the passage from the hall-gate to steps leading to the king's bench was lined by mazarines with candles in their hands, by aldermen in their red gowns, and gentlemen pensioners with their axes in their hands. at the bottom of the steps stood the lord mayor and the lady mayoress, with the entertainment committee, to receive the members of the royal family as they arrived. the princes and princesses, as they successively came in, waited in the body of the hall until their majesties' entrance. on their arrival being announced, the lord mayor and the lady mayoress, as the chronicler puts it, advanced to the great door of the hall; and at their majesties' entrance, the lord mayor presented the city sword, which being returned, he carried before the king, the queen following, with the lady mayoress behind her. "the music had struck up, but was drowned in the acclamations of the company; in short, all was life and joy; even the giants, gog and magog, seemed to be almost animated." the king, at all events, was more than almost animated; he volubly praised the splendour of the scene, and was very gracious to the lord mayor on the way to the council chamber, followed by the royal family and the reception committee. this room reached, the recorder delivered the inevitable addresses, and the wives and daughters of the aldermen were presented. these ladies had the honour of being saluted by his majesty, and of kissing the queen's hand, then the sheriffs were knighted, as also was the brother of the lord mayor. after half an hour's stay in the council chamber, the royal party returned into the hall, and were conducted to the upper end of it, called the hustings, where a table was provided for them, at which they sat by themselves. there had been, it seems, a knotty little question of etiquette. the ladies-in-waiting on the queen had claimed the right of custom to dine at the same table with her majesty, but this was disallowed; so they dined at the table of the lady mayoress in the king's bench. the royal table "was set off with a variety of emblematic ornaments, beyond description elegant," and a superb canopy was placed over their majesties' heads at the upper end. for the lord mayor, aldermen, and their ladies, there was a table on the lower hustings. the privy councillors, ministers of state, and great nobles dined at a table on the right of this; the foreign ministers at one on the left. for the mazarines and the general company there were eight tables laid out in the body of the hall, while the judges, serjeants, and other legal celebrities, dined in the old council chamber, and the attendants of the distinguished visitors were regaled in the court of common pleas. george and his consort must have got up a fine appetite between noon and nine o'clock, the hour at which the dinner was served. the aldermen on the committee acted as waiters at the royal table. the lord mayor stood behind the king, "in quality of chief butler, while the lady mayoress waited on her majesty" in the same capacity, but soon after seats were taken they were graciously sent to their seats. the dinner consisted of three courses, besides the dessert, and the purveyors were messrs. horton and birch, the same house which in the present day supplies most of the civic banquets. the illustration which we give on the previous page is from an old print of the period representing this celebrated festival, and is interesting not merely on account of the scene which it depicts, but also as a view of guildhall at that period. the bill of fare at the royal table on this occasion is extant, and as it is worth a little study on the part of modern epicures, we give it here at full length for their benefit:-- first service. venison, turtle soups, fish of every sort, viz., dorys, mullets, turbots, tench, soles, &c., nine dishes. second service. a fine roast, ortolans, teals, quails, ruffs, knotts, peachicks, snipes, partridges, pheasants, &c., nine dishes. third service. vegetables and made dishes, green peas, green morelles, green truffles, cardoons, artichokes, ducks' tongues, fat livers, &c., eleven dishes. fourth service. curious ornaments in pastry and makes, jellies, blomonges, in variety of shapes, figures, and colours, nine dishes. in all, not including the dessert, there were placed on the tables four hundred and fourteen dishes, hot and cold. wine was varied and copious. in the language of the chronicler, "champagne, burgundy, and other valuable wines were to be had everywhere, and nothing was so scarce as water." when the second course was being laid on, the toasts began. the common crier, standing before the royal table, demanded silence, then proclaimed aloud that their majesties drank to the health and prosperity of the lord mayor, aldermen, and common council of the city of london. then the common crier, in the name of the civic dignitaries, gave the toast of health, long life, and prosperity to their most gracious majesties. after dinner there was no tarrying over the wine-cup. the royal party retired at once to the council chamber, "where they had their tea." what became of the rest of the company is not mentioned, but clearly the guildhall could have been no place for them. that was summarily occupied by an army of carpenters. the tables were struck and carried out. the hustings, where the great folks had dined, and the floor of which had been covered with rich carpeting, was covered afresh, and the whole hall rapidly got ready for the ball, with which the festivities were to conclude. on the return of their majesties, and as soon as they were seated under the canopy, the ball was opened by the duke of york and the lady mayoress. it does not appear that the royal couple took the floor, but "other minuets succeeded by the younger branches of the royal family with ladies of distinction." about midnight georgius rex, beginning probably to get sleepy with all this derangement of his ordinarily methodical way of living, signified his desire to take his departure; but things are not always possible even when kings are in question. such was the hurry and confusion outside--at least that is the reason assigned by the chronicler--that there was great delay in fetching up the royal carriages to the guildhall door. our own impression is that the coachmen were all drunk, not excepting the state coachman himself. their majesties waited half an hour before their coach could be brought up, and perhaps, after all the interchange of civilities, went away in a tantrum at the end. it is clear the princess dowager of wales did, for she waited some time in the temporary passage, "nor could she be prevailed on to retire into the hall." there was no procession on the return from the city. the royal people trundled home as they best might, and according as their carriages came to hand. but we are told that on the return journey, past midnight as it was, the crowd in some places was quite as great as it had been in the daytime, and that mr. pitt was vociferously cheered all the way to his own door. the king and queen did not get home to st. james's till two o'clock in the morning, and it is a confirmation of the suggestion that the coachman must have been drunk, that in turning under the gate one of the glasses of their coach was broken by the roof of the sentry-box. as for the festive people left behind in the guildhall, they kept the ball up till three o'clock, and we are told that "the whole was concluded with the utmost regularity and decorum." indeed, sir samuel fludyer's lord mayor's day appears to have been a triumphant success. his majesty himself, we are told, was pleased to declare "that to be elegantly entertained he must come into the city." the foreign ministers in general expressed their wonder, and one of them politely said in french, that this entertainment was only fit for one king to give to another. one of the barclays has left a pleasant account of this visit of george iii. to the city to see the lord mayor's show:--"the queen's clothes," says the lady, "which were as rich as gold, silver, and silk could make them, was a suit from which fell a train supported by a little page in scarlet and silver. the lustre of her stomacher was inconceivable. the king i think a very personable man. all the princes followed the king's example in complimenting each of us with a kiss. the queen was upstairs three times, and my little darling, with patty barclay and priscilla bell, were introduced to her. i was present, and not a little anxious, on account of my girl, who kissed the queen's hand with so much grace, that i thought the princess dowager would have smothered her with kisses. such a report of her was made to the king, that miss was sent for, and afforded him great amusement by saying, 'that she loved the king, though she must not love fine things, and her grandpapa would not allow her to make a curtsey." her sweet face made such an impression on the duke of york, that i rejoiced she was only five instead of fifteen. when he first met her, he tried to persuade miss to let him introduce her to the queen, but she would by no means consent, till i informed her he was a prince, upon which her little female heart relented, and she gave him her hand--a true copy of the sex. the king never sat down, nor did he taste anything during the whole time. her majesty drank tea, which was brought her on a silver waiter by brother john, who delivered it to the lady in waiting, and she presented it kneeling. the leave they took of us was such as we might expect from our equals--full of apologies for our trouble for their entertainment, which they were so anxious to have explained, that the queen came up to us as we stood on one side of the door, and had every word interpreted. my brothers had the honour of assisting the queen into her coach. some of us sat up to see them return, and the king and queen took especial notice of us as they passed. the king ordered twenty-four of his guard to be placed opposite our door all night, lest any of the canopy should be pulled down by the mob, in which" (the canopy, it is to be presumed) "there were yards of silk damask." "from the above particulars we learn," says dr. doran, "that it was customary for our sovereigns to do honour to industry long before the period of the great exhibition year, which is erroneously supposed to be the opening of an era when a sort of fraternisation took place between commerce and the crown. under the old reign, too, the honour took a homely, but not an undignified, and if still a ceremonious, yet a hearty shape. it may be questioned, if royalty were to pay a visit to the family of the present mr. barclay, whether the monarch would celebrate the brief sojourn by kissing all the daughters of 'barclay and perkins.' he might do many things not half so pleasant." the most important feature of the modern show, says mr. fairholt very truly, is the splendidly carved and gilt coach in which the lord mayor rides; and the paintings that decorate it may be considered as the relics of the ancient pageants that gave us the living representatives of the virtues and attributes of the chief magistrate here delineated. cipriani was the artist who executed this series of paintings, in ; and they exhibit upon the panel of the right door, fame presenting the mayor to the genius of the city; on the left door, the same genius, attended by britannia, who points with her spear to a shield, inscribed "henry fitz-alwin, ." on each side of the doors are painted truth, with her mirror; temperance, holding a bridle; justice, and fortitude. the front panel exhibits faith and hope, pointing to st. paul's; the back panel charity, two female figures, typical of plenty and riches, casting money and fruits into her lap--while a wrecked sailor and sinking ship fill up the background. by the kind permission of the lord mayor we are enabled to give a representation of the ponderous old vehicle, which is still the centre of attraction every th of november. the carved work of the coach is elaborate and beautiful, consisting of cupids supporting the city arms, &c. the roof was formerly ornamented in the centre with carved work, representing four boys supporting baskets of fruit, &c. these were damaged by coming into collision with an archway leading into blackwall hall, about fifty years ago; some of the figures were knocked off, and the group was entirely removed in consequence. this splendid coach was paid for by a subscription of £ from each of the junior aldermen, and such as had not passed the civic chair--its total cost being £ , s. subsequently each alderman, when sworn into office, contributed that sum to keep it in repair; for which purpose, also, each lord mayor gave £ , which was allowed to him in case the cost of the repairs during his mayoralty rendered it requisite. this arrangement was not, however, complied with for many years; after which the whole expense fell upon the lord mayor, and in one year it exceeded £ . this outlay being considered an unjust tax upon the mayor for the time being, the amount over £ was repaid to him, and the coach became the property of the corporation, the expenses ever since being paid by the committee for general purposes. even so early as twenty years after its construction it was found necessary to repair the coach at an expense of £ ; and the average expense of the repairs during seven years of the present century is said to have been as much as £ . hone justly observes, "all that remains of the lord mayor's show to remind the curiously-informed of its ancient character, is the first part of the procession. these are the poor men of the company to which the lord mayor belongs, habited in long gowns and close caps of the company's colour, bearing shields on their arms, but without javelins. so many of these lead the show as there are years in the lord mayor's age." of a later show "aleph" gives a pleasant account. "i was about nine years old," he says, "when from a window on ludgate hill i watched the ponderous mayor's coach, grand and wide, with six footmen standing on the footboard, rejoicing in bouquets as big as their heads and canes four feet high, dragged slowly up the hill by a team of be-ribboned horses, which, as they snorted along, seemed to be fully conscious of the precious freight in the rear. cinderella's carriage never could boast so goodly a driver; his full face, of a dusky or purple red, swelled out on each side like the breast of a pouting pigeon; his three-cornered hat was almost hidden by wide gold lace; the flowers in his vest were full-blown and jolly, like himself; his horsewhip covered with blue ribbons, rising and falling at intervals merely for form--such horses were not made to be flogged. coachee's box was rather a throne than a seat. then a dozen gorgeous walking footmen on either hand; grave marshalmen, treading gingerly, as if they had corns; and city officers in scarlet, playing at soldiers, but looking anything but soldierly; two trumpeters before and behind, blowing an occasional blast.... "how that old coach swayed to and fro, with its dignified elderly gentlemen and rubicund lord mayor, rejoicing in countless turtle feeds--for, reader, it was sir william curtis!... "as the ark of copper, plate glass, and enamel crept slowly up the incline, a luckless sweeper-boy (in those days such dwarfed lads were forced to climb chimneys) sidled up to one of the fore horses, and sought to detach a pink bow from his mane. the creature felt his honours diminishing, and turned to snap at the blackee. the sweep screamed, the horse neighed, the mob shouted, and sir william turned on his pivot cushion to learn what the noise meant; and thus we were enabled to gaze on a lord mayor's face. in sooth he was a goodly gentleman, burly, and with three fingers' depth of fat on his portly person, yet every feature evinced kindliness and benevolence of no common order." the men in armour were from time immemorial important features in the show, and the subjects of many a jest. hogarth introduces them in one of his series, "industry and idleness," and _punch_ has cast many a missile at those disconsolate warriors, who all but perished under their weight of armour, degenerate race that we are! the suits of burnished mail, though generally understood to be kindly lent for the occasion by the custodian of the tower armoury, seem now and then to have been borrowed from the playhouse, possibly for the reason that the imitation accoutrements were more showy and superb than the real. this was at any rate the case (says mr. dutton cook) in , when sir claudius hunter was lord mayor, and mr. elliston was manager of the surrey theatre. a melodramatic play was in preparation, and for this special object the manager had provided, at some considerable outlay, two magnificent suits of brass and steel armour of the fourteenth century, expressly manufactured for him by mr. marriott of fleet street. no expense had been spared in rendering this harness as complete and splendid as could be. forthwith sir claudius applied to elliston for the loan of the new armour to enhance the glories of the civic pageant. the request was acceded to with the proviso that the suit of steel could only be lent in the event of the ensuing th of november proving free from damp and fog. no such condition, however, was annexed to the loan of the brass armour; and it was understood that mr. john kemble had kindly undertaken to furnish the helmets of the knights with costly plumes, and personally to superintend the arrangement of these decorations. altogether, it would seem that the mayor stood much indebted to the managers, who, willing to oblige, yet felt that their courtesy was deserving of some sort of public recognition. at least this was elliston's view of the matter, who read with chagrin sundry newspaper paragraphs, announcing that at the approaching inauguration of sir claudius some of the royal armour from the tower would be exhibited, but ignoring altogether the loan of the matchless suits of steel and brass from the surrey theatre. the manager was mortified; he could be generous, but he knew the worth of an advertisement. he expostulated with the future mayor. sir claudius replied that he did not desire to conceal the transaction, but rather than it should go forth to the world that so high a functionary as an alderman of london had made a request to a theatrical manager, he thought it advisable to inform the public that mr. elliston had offered the use of his property for the procession of the th. this was hardly a fair way of stating the case, but at length the following paragraph, drawn up by elliston, was agreed upon for publication in the newspapers:--"we understand that mr. elliston has lent to the lord mayor elect the two magnificent suits of armour, one of steel and the other of brass, manufactured by marriott of fleet street, and which cost not less than £ . these very curious specimens of the revival of an art supposed to have been lost will be displayed in the lord mayor's procession, and afterwards in guildhall, with some of the royal armour in the tower." it would seem also, according to another authority, that the wearers of the armour were members of the surrey company. on the th elliston was absent from london, but he received from one left in charge of his interests a particular account of the proceedings of the day:-- "the unhandsome conduct of the lord mayor has occasioned me much trouble, and will give you equal displeasure. in the first place, your paragraph never would have appeared at all had i not interfered in the matter; secondly, cropped-tailed hacks had been procured without housings, so that i was compelled to obtain two trumpeters' horses from the horse guards, long-tailed animals, and richly caparisoned; thirdly, the helmets which had been delivered at mr. kemble's house were not returned until twelve o'clock on the day of action, with three miserable feathers in each, which appeared to have been plucked from the draggle tail of a hunted cock; this i also remedied by sending off at the last moment to the first plumassier for the hire of proper feathers, and the helmets were ultimately decorated with fourteen superb plumes; fourthly, the lord mayor's officer, who rode in henry v. armour, jealous of our stately aspect, attempted to seize one of our horses, on which your rider made as gallant a retort as ever knight in armour could have done, and the assailer was completely foiled." [illustration: the lord mayor's coach.] this was bad enough, but in addition to this the narrator makes further revelation of the behind-the-scenes secrets of a civic pageant sixty years ago. on the arrival of the procession it was found that no accommodation had been arranged for "mr. elliston's men," nor were any refreshments proffered them. "for seven hours they were kept within guildhall, where they seem to have been considered as much removed from the necessities of the flesh as gog and magog above their heads." at length the compassion, or perhaps the sense of humour, of certain of the diners was moved by the forlorn situation of the knights in armour, and bumpers of wine were tendered them. the man in steel discreetly declined this hospitable offer, alleging that after so long a fast he feared the wine would affect him injuriously. it was whispered that his harness imprisoned him so completely that eating and drinking were alike impracticable to him. his comrade in brass made light of these objections, gladly took the proffered cup into his gauntleted hands, and "drank the red wine through the helmet barred," as though he had been one of the famous knights of branksome tower. it was soon apparent that the man in brass was intoxicated. he became obstreperous; he began to reel and stumble, accoutred as he was, to the hazard of his own bones and to the great dismay of bystanders. it was felt that his fall might entail disaster upon many. attempts were made to remove him, when he assumed a pugilistic attitude, and resolutely declined to quit the hall. nor was it possible to enlist against him the services of his brother warrior. the man in steel sided with the man in brass, and the two heroes thus formed a powerful coalition, which was only overcome at last by the onset of numbers. the scene altogether was of a most scandalous, if comical, description. it was some time past midnight when mr. marriot, the armourer, arrived at guildhall, and at length succeeded in releasing the two half-dead warriors from their coats of mail. after all, these famous suits of armour never returned to the wardrobe of the surrey theatre, or gleamed upon its stage. from guildhall they were taken to mr. marriott's workshop. this, with all its contents, was accidentally consumed by fire. but the armourer's trade had taught him chivalry. at his own expense, although he had lost some three thousand pounds by the fire, he provided elliston with new suits of armour in lieu of those that had been destroyed. to his outlay the lord mayor and the city authorities contributed--nothing! although but for the procession of the th of november the armour had never been in peril. the most splendid sight that ever glorified mediæval cheapside was the midsummer marching watch, a grand city display, the description of which makes even the brown pages of old stow glow with light and colour, seeming to rouse in the old london chronicler recollections of his youth. [illustration: the demolition of cheapside cross. _from an old print._ (_see page ._)] "besides the standing watches," says stow, "all in bright harness, in every ward and street in the city and suburbs, there was also a marching watch, that passed through the principal streets thereof; to wit, from the little conduit, by paul's gate, through west cheap by the _stocks_, through cornhill, by leaden hall, to aldgate; then back down fenchurch street, by grasse church, about grasse church conduit, and up grasse church street into cornhill, and through into west cheap again, and so broke up. the whole way ordered for this marching watch extended to , taylors' yards of assize. for the furniture whereof, with lights, there were appointed cressets, of them being found by the companies, the other by the chamber of london. besides the which lights, every constable in london, in number more than , had his cresset; the charge of every cresset was in light two shillings four pence; and every cresset had two men, one to bear or hold it, another to bear a bag with light, and to serve it; so that the poor men pertaining to the cressets taking wages, besides that every one had a strawen hat, with a badge painted, and his breakfast, amounted in number to almost , . the marching watch contained in number about , men, part of them being old soldiers, of skill to be captains, lieutenants, serjeants, corporals, &c.; whifflers, drummers and fifes, standard and ensign bearers, demi-launces on great horses, gunners with hand-guns, or half hakes, archers in coats of white fustian, signed on the breast and back with the arms of the city, their bows bent in their hands, with sheafs of arrows by their side; pikemen, in bright corslets, burganets, &c.; halbards, the like; the billmen in almain rivets and aprons of mail in great number. "this midsummer watch was thus accustomed yearly, time out of mind, until the year , the st of henry viii.; in which year, on the th of may, a great muster was made by the citizens at the _mile's end_, all in bright harness, with coats of white silk or cloth, and chains of gold, in three great battels, to the number of , ; which passed through london to westminster, and so through the sanctuary and round about the park of st. james, and returned home through oldborn. "king henry, then considering the great charges of the citizens for the furniture of this unusual muster, forbad the marching watch provided for at midsummer for that year; which being once laid down, was not raised again till the year , the second of edward the sixth, sir john gresham then being maior, who caused the marching watch, both on the eve of saint john baptist, and of saint peter the apostle, to be revived and set forth, in as comely order as it had been accustomed. "in the months of june and july, on the vigil of festival days, and on the same festival days in the evenings, after the sun-setting, there were usually made bonefires in the streets, every man bestowing wood or labour towards them. the wealthier sort, also, before their doors, near to the said bonefires, would set out tables on the vigils, furnished with sweet bread and good drink; and on the festival days, with meat and drink, plentifully; whereunto they would invite their neighbours and passengers also, to sit and be merry with them in great familiarity, praising god for his benefits bestowed on them. these were called bonefires, as well of good amity amongst neighbours, that being before at controversie, were there by the labours of others reconciled, and made of bitter enemies loving friends; as also for the virtue that a great fire hath to purge the infection of the air. on the vigil of saint john baptist, and on saint peter and paul, the apostles, every man's door being shadowed with green birch, long fennel, st. john's wort, orpin, white lillies, and such-like, garnished upon with beautiful flowers, had also lamps of glass, with oyl burning in them all the night. some hung out branches of iron, curiously wrought, containing hundreds of lamps, lighted at once, which made a goodly show, namely, in new fish street, thames street, &c." chapter xxviii. cheapside: central. grim chronicles of cheapside--cheapside cross--puritanical intolerance--the old london conduits--mediæval water-carriers--the church of st. mary-le-bow--"murder will out"--the "sound of bow bells"--sir christopher wren's bow church--remains of the old church--the seldam--interesting houses in cheapside and their memories--goldsmiths' row--the "nag's head" and the self-consecrated bishops--keats' house--saddler's hall--a prince disguised--blackmore, the poet--alderman boydell, the printseller--his edition of shakespeare--"puck"--the lottery--death and burial. the cheapside standard, opposite honey lane, was also a fountain, and was rebuilt in the reign of henry vi. in the year (edward i.) three men had their right hands stricken off here for rescuing a prisoner arrested by an officer of the city. in edward iii.'s reign two fishmongers, for aiding a riot, were beheaded at the standard. here also, in the reign of richard ii., wat tyler, that unfortunate reformer, beheaded richard lions, a rich merchant. when henry iv. usurped the throne, very beneficially for the nation, it was at the standard in chepe that he caused richard ii.'s blank charters to be burned. in the reign of henry vi. jack cade (a man who seems to have aimed at removing real evils) beheaded the lord say, as readers of shakespeare's historical plays will remember; and in john davy had his offending hand cut off at the standard for having struck a man before the judges at westminster. cheapside cross, one of the nine crosses erected by edward i., that soldier king, to mark the resting-places of the body of his beloved queen, eleanor of castile, on its way from lincoln to westminster abbey, stood in the middle of the road facing wood street. it was built in by master michael, a mason, of canterbury. from an old painting at cowdray, in sussex, representing the procession of edward vi. from the tower to westminster, an engraving of which we have given on page , we gather that the cross was both stately and graceful. it consisted of three octangular compartments, each supported by eight slender columns. the basement story was probably twenty feet high; the second, ten; the third, six. in the first niche stood the effigy of probably a contemporaneous pope; round the base of the second were four apostles, each with a nimbus round his head; and above them sat the virgin, with the infant jesus in her arms. the highest niche was occupied by four standing figures, while crowning all rose a cross surmounted by the emblematic dove. the whole was rich with highly-finished ornament. fox, the martyrologist, says the cross was erected on what was then an open spot of cheapside. some writers assert that a statue of queen eleanor first stood on the spot, but this is very much doubted. the cross was rebuilt in , and combined with a drinking-fountain. the work was a long time about, as the full design was not carried to completion till the first year of henry vii. this second erection was, in fact, a sort of a timber-shed surrounding the old cross, and covered with gilded lead. it was, we are told, re-gilt on the visit of the emperor charles v. on the accession of edward vi., that child of promise, the cross was altered and beautified. the generations came and went. the 'prentice who had played round the cross as a newly-girdled lad sat again on its steps as a rich citizen, in robes and chain. the shaven priest who stopped to mutter a prayer to the half-defaced virgin in the votive niche gave place to his successor in the geneva gown, and still the cross stood, a memory of death, that spares neither king nor subject. but in elizabeth's time, in their horror of image-worship, the puritans, foaming at the mouth at every outward and visible sign of the old religion, took great exception at the idolatrous cross of chepe. violent protest was soon made. in the night of june st, , an attack was made on the lower tier of images--_i.e._, the resurrection, virgin, christ, and edward the confessor, all which were miserably mutilated. the virgin was "robbed of her son, and the arms broken by which she stayed him on her knees, her whole body also haled by ropes and left ready to fall." the queen offered a reward, but the offenders were not discovered. in the effigy of the virgin was repaired, and afterwards "a newe sonne, misshapen (as borne out of time), all naked, was laid in her arms; the other images continuing broken as before." soon an attempt was made to pull down the woodwork, and substitute a pyramid for the crucifix; the virgin was superseded by the goddess diana--"a woman (for the most part naked), and water, conveyed from the thames, filtering from her naked breasts, but oftentimes dried up." elizabeth, always a trimmer in these matters, was indignant at these fanatical doings; and thinking a plain cross, a symbol of the faith of our country, ought not to give scandal, she ordered one to be placed on the summit, and gilt. the virgin also was restored; but twelve nights afterwards she was again attacked, "her crown being plucked off, and almost her head, taking away her naked child, and stabbing her in the breast." thus dishonoured the cross was left till the next year, , when it was rebuilt, and the universities were consulted as to whether the crucifix should be restored. they all sanctioned it, with the exception of dr. abbot (afterwards archbishop), but there was to be no dove. in a sermon of the period the following passage occurs:--"oh! this cross is one of the jewels of the harlot of rome, and is left and kept here as a love-token, and gives them hope that they shall enjoy it and us again." yet the cross remained undisturbed for several years. at this period it was surrounded by a strong iron railing, and decorated in the most inoffensive manner. it consisted of only four stones. superstitious images were superseded by grave effigies of apostles, kings, and prelates. the crucifix only of the original was retained. the cross itself was in bad taste, being half grecian, half gothic; the whole, architecturally, much inferior to the former fabric. the uneasy zeal of the puritanical sects soon revived. on the night of january th, , the cross was again defaced, and a sort of literary contention began. we have "the resolution of those contemners that will no crosses;" "articles of high treason exhibited against cheapside cross;" "the chimney-sweepers' sad complaint, and humble petition to the city of london for erecting a neue cross;" "a dialogue between the cross in chepe and charing cross." of these here is a specimen-- _anabaptist._ o! idol now, down must thou! brother ball, be sure it shall. _brownist._ helpe! wren, or we are undone men. i shall not fall, to ruin all. _cheap cross._ i'm so crossed, i fear my utter destruction is at hand. _charing cross._ sister of cheap, crosses are incident to us all, and our children. but what's the greatest cross that hath befallen you? _cheap cross._ nay, sister; if my cross were fallen, i should live at more heart's ease than i do. _charing cross._ i believe it is the cross upon your head that hath brought you into this trouble, is it not? these disputes were the precursors of its final destruction. in may, , the parliament deputed robert harlow to the work, who went with a troop of horse and two companies of foot, and executed his orders most completely. the official account says rejoicingly:-- "on the nd of may, , the cross in cheapside was pulled down. at the fall of the top cross drums beat, trumpets blew, and multitudes of caps were thrown into the air, and a great shout of people with joy. the nd of may, the almanack says, was the invention of the cross, and the same day at night were the leaden popes burnt (they were not popes, but eminent english prelates) in the place where it stood, with ringing of bells and great acclamation, and no hurt at all done in these actions." the th of the same month, the "book of sports" (a collection of ordinances allowing games on the sabbath, put forth by james i.) was burnt by the hangman, where the cross used to stand, and at the exchange. "aleph" gives us the title of a curious tract, published the very day the cross was destroyed:--"the downfall of dagon; or, the taking down of cheapside crosse; wherein is contained these principles: . the crosse sicke at heart. . his death and funerall. . his will, legacies, inventory, and epitaph. . why it was removed. . the money it will bring. . noteworthy, that it was cast down on that day when it was first invented and set up." it may be worth giving an extract or two:--"i am called the 'citie idoll;' the brownists spit at me, and throw stones at me; others hide their eyes with their fingers; the anabaptists wish me knockt in pieces, as i am like to be this day; the sisters of the fraternity will not come near me, but go about by watling street, and come in again by soaper lane, to buy their provisions of the market folks.... i feele the pangs of death, and shall never see the end of the merry month of may; my breath stops; my life is gone; i feel myself a-dying downwards." here are some of the bequests:--"i give my iron-work to those people which make good swords, at hounslow; for i am all spanish iron and steele to the back. "i give my body and stones to those masons that cannot telle how to frame the like againe, to keepe by them for a patterne; for in time there will be more crosses in london than ever there was yet. "i give my ground whereon i stood to be a free market-place. "jasper crosse, his epitaph. 'i look for no praise when i am dead, for, going the right way, i never did tread; i was harde as an alderman's doore, that's shut and stony-hearted to the poore. i never gave alms, nor did anything was good, nor e'er said, god save the king. i stood like a stock that was made of wood, and yet the people would not say i was good; and if i tell them plaine, they're like to mee-- like stone to all goodnesse. but now, reader, see me in the dust, for crosses must not stand, there is too much cross tricks within the land; and, having so done never any good, i leave my prayse for to be understood; for many women, after this my losse, will remember me, and still will be crosse-- crosse tricks, crosse ways, and crosse vanities, believe the crosse speaks truth, for here he lyes. "i was built of lead, iron, and stone. some say that divers of the crowns and sceptres are of silver, besides the rich gold that i was gilded with, which might have been filed and saved, yielding a good value. some have offered four hundred, some five hundred; but they that bid most offer one thousand for it. i am to be taken down this very tuesday; and i pray, good reader, take notice by the almanack, for the sign falls just at this time, to be in the feete, to showe that the crosse must be laide equall with the grounde, for our feete to tread on, and what day it was demolished; that is, on the day when crosses were first invented and set up; and so i leave the rest to your consideration." howell, the letter writer, lamenting the demolition of so ancient and visible a monument, says trumpets were blown all the while the crowbars and pickaxes were working. archbishop laud in his "diary" notes that on may st the fanatical mob broke the stained-glass windows of his lambeth chapel, and tore up the steps of his communion table. "on tuesday," this fanatic of another sort writes, "the cross in cheapside was taken down to cleanse that great street of superstition." the amiable evelyn notes in his "diary" that he himself saw "the furious and zelous people demolish that stately crosse in cheapside." in july, , two years afterwards, and in the middle of the civil war, whitelocke (afterwards oliver cromwell's trimming minister) mentions a burning on the site of the cheapside cross of crucifixes, popish pictures, and books. soon after the demolition of the cross (says howell) a high square stone rest was "popped up in cheapside, hard by the standard," according to the legacy of russell, a good-hearted porter. this "rest and be thankful" bore the following simple distich:-- "god bless thee, porter, who great pains doth take; rest here, and welcome, when thy back doth ache." there are four views of the old cheapside cross extant--one at cowdray, one at the pepysian library, cambridge. a third, engraved by wilkinson, represents the procession of mary de medicis, on her way through cheapside; and another, which we give on page , shows the demolition of the cross. the old london conduits were pleasant gathering places for 'prentices, serving-men, and servant girls--open-air parliaments of chatter, scandal, love-making, and trade talk. here all day repaired the professional water-carriers, rough, sturdy fellows--like ben jonson's cob--who were hired to supply the houses of the rich goldsmiths of chepe, and who, before sir hugh middleton brought the new river to london, were indispensable to the citizen's very existence. the great conduit of cheapside stood in the middle of the east end of the street near its junction with the poultry, while the little conduit was at the west end, facing foster lane and old change. stow, that indefatigable stitcher together of old history, describes the larger conduit curtly as bringing sweet water "by pipes of lead underground from tyburn (paddington) for the service of the city." it was castellated with stone and cisterned in lead about the year (edward i.), and again new built and enlarged by thomas ham, a sheriff in (edward iv.). ned ward ( ), in his lively ribald way describes cheapside conduit (he does not say which) palisaded with chimney-sweepers' brooms and surrounded by sweeps, probably waiting to be hired, so that "a countryman, seeing so many black attendants waiting at a stone hovel, took it to be one of old nick's tenements." in the reign of edward iii. the supply of water for the city seems to have been derived chiefly from the river, the local conduits being probably insufficient. the carters, called "water-leders" ( th edward iii.), were ordered by the city to charge three-halfpence for taking a cart from dowgate or castle baynard to chepe, and five farthings if they stopped short of chepe, while a sand-cart from aldgate to chepe conduit was to charge threepence. the church of st. mary-le-bow, the sound of whose mellow bells is supposed to be so dear to cockney ears, is the glory and crown of modern cheapside. the music it casts forth into the troubled london air has a special magic of its own, and has a power to waken memories of the past. this _chef-d'oeuvre_ of sir christopher wren, whose steeple--as graceful as it is stately--rises like a lighthouse above the roar and jostle of the human deluge below, stands on an ecclesiastical site of great antiquity. the old tradition is that here, as at st. paul's and westminster, was a roman temple, but of that there is no proof whatever. the first bow church seems, however, to have been one of the earliest churches built by the conquerors of harold; and here, no doubt, the sullen saxons came to sneer at the masse chanted with a french accent. the first church was racked by storm and fire, was for a time turned into a fortress, was afterwards the scene of a murder, and last of all became one of our earliest ecclesiastical courts. stow, usually very clear and unconfused, rather contradicts himself for once about the origin of the name of the church--"st. mary de arcubus or bow." in one place he says it was so called because it was the first london church built on arches; and elsewhere, when out of sight of this assertion, he says that it took its name from certain stone arches supporting a lantern on the top of the tower. the first is more probably the true derivation, for st. paul's could also boast its saxon crypt. bow church is first mentioned in the reign of william the conqueror, and it was probably built at that period. there seems to have been nothing to specially disturb the fair building and its ministering priests till (william rufus), when, in a tremendous storm that sent the monks to their knees, and shook the very saints from their niches over portal and arch, the roof of bow church was, by one great wrench of the wind, lifted off, and wafted down like a mere dead leaf into the street. it does not say much for the state of the highway that four of the huge rafters, twenty-six feet long, were driven (so the chroniclers say) twenty-two feet into the ground. in part of the steeple fell, and caused the death of several persons; so that the work of mediæval builders does not seem to have been always irreproachable. it was in (edward i.) that blood was shed, and the right of sanctuary violated, in bow church. one duckett, a goldsmith, having in that warlike age wounded in some fray a person named ralph crepin, took refuge in this church, and slept in the steeple. while there, certain friends of crepin entered during the night, and violating the sanctuary, first slew duckett, and then so placed the body as to induce the belief that he had committed suicide. a verdict to this effect was accordingly returned at the inquisition, and the body was interred with the customary indignities. the real circumstances, however, being afterwards discovered, through the evidence of a boy, who, it appears, was with duckett in his voluntary confinement, and had hid himself during the struggle, the murderers, among whom was a woman, were apprehended and executed. after this occurrence the church was interdicted for a time, and the doors and windows stopped with brambles. [illustration: old map of the ward of cheap--about .] the first we hear of the nightly ringing of bow bell at nine o'clock--a reminiscence, probably, of the tyrannical norman curfew, or signal for extinguishing the lights at eight p.m.--is in (edward ii.). it was the go-to-bed bell of those early days; and two old couplets still exist, supposed to be the complaint of the sleepy 'prentices of chepe and the obsequious reply of the bow church clerk. in the reign of henry vi. the steeple was completed, and the ringing of the bell was, perhaps, the revival of an old and favourite usage. the rhymes are-- "clarke of the bow bell, with the yellow lockes, for thy late ringing, thy head shall have knockes." to this the clerk replies-- "children of chepe, hold you all still, for you shall have bow bell rung at your will." in (edward ii.) william copeland, churchwarden of bow, gave a new bell to the church, or had the old one re-cast. in (henry viii.) the upper part of the steeple was repaired, and the lanthorn and the stone arches forming the open coronet of the tower were finished with caen stone. it was then proposed to glaze the five corner lanthorns and the top lanthorn, and light them up with torches or cressets at night, to serve as beacons for travellers on the northern roads to london; but the idea was never carried out. [illustration: the seal of bow church. (_see page ._)] by the great fire of , the old church was destroyed; and in the present edifice was commenced by sir c. wren. after it was erected the parish was united to two others, allhallows, honey lane, and st. pancras, soper lane. as the right of presentation to the latter of them is also vested in the archbishop of canterbury, and that of the former in the grocers' company, the archbishop nominates twice consecutively, and the grocers' company once. we learn from the "parentalia," that the former church had been mean and low. on digging out the ground, a foundation was discovered sufficiently firm for the intended fabric, which, on further examination, the account states, appeared to be the walls and pavement of a temple, or church, of roman workmanship, entirely buried under the level of the present street. in reality, however (unless other remains were found below those since seen, which is not probable), this was nothing more than the crypt of the ancient norman church, and it may still be examined in the vaults of the present building; for, as the account informs us, upon these walls was commenced the new church. the former building stood about forty feet backwards from cheapside; and in order to bring the new steeple forward to the line of the street, the site of a house not yet rebuilt was purchased, and on it the excavations were commenced for the foundation of the tower. here a roman causeway was found, supposed to be the once northern boundary of the colony. the church was completed (chiefly at the expense of subscribers) in . a certain dame dyonis williamson, of hale's hall, in the county of norfolk, gave £ , towards the rebuilding. of the monuments in the church, that to the memory of dr. newton, bishop of bristol, and twenty-five years rector of bow church, is the most noticeable. in the spire was repaired by george gwilt, architect, and the upper part of it taken down and rebuilt. there used to be a large building, called the crown-sild, or shed, on the north side of the old church (now the site of houses in cheapside), which was erected by edward iii., as a place from which the royal family might view tournaments and other entertainments thereafter occurring in cheapside. originally the king had nothing but a temporary wooden shed for the purpose, but this falling down, as already described (page ), led to the erection of the crown-sild. "without the north side of this church of st. mary bow," says stow, "towards west chepe, standeth one fair building of stone, called in record seldam, a shed which greatly darkeneth the said church; for by means thereof all the windows and doors on that side are stopped up. king edward caused this sild or shed to be made, and to be strongly built of stone, for himself, the queen, and other estates to stand in, there to behold the joustings and other shows at their pleasure. and this house for a long time after served for that use--viz., in the reigns of edward iii. and richard ii.; but in the year henry iv. confirmed the said shed or building to stephen spilman, william marchfield, and john whateley, mercers, by the name of one new seldam, shed, or building, with shops, cellars, and edifices whatsoever appertaining, called crownside or tamersilde, situate in the mercery in west chepe, and in the parish of st. mary de arcubus, in london, &c. notwithstanding which grant the kings of england and other great estates, as well of foreign countries repairing to this realm, as inhabitants of the same, have usually repaired to this place, therein to behold the shows of this city passing through west chepe--viz., the great watches accustomed in the night, on the even of st. john the baptist and st. peter at midsummer, the example whereof were over long to recite, wherefore let it suffice briefly to touch one. in the year , on st. john's even at night, king henry viii. came to this place, then called the king's head in chepe, in the livery of a yeoman of the guard, with a halbert on his shoulder, and there beholding the watch, departed privily when the watch was done, and was not known to any but whom it pleased him; but on st. peter's night next following he and the queen came royally riding to the said place, and there with their nobles beheld the watch of the city, and returned in the morning." the _builder_, of , gives a full account of the discovery of architectural remains beneath some houses in bow churchyard:-- "they are," says the _builder_, "of a much later date than the celebrated norman crypt at present existing under the church. beneath the house no. is a square vaulted chamber, twelve feet by seven feet three inches high, with a slightly pointed arch of ribbed masonry, similar to some of those of the old london bridge. there had been in the centre of the floor an excavation, which might have been formerly used as a bath, but which was now arched over and converted into a cesspool. proceeding towards cheapside, there appears to be a continuation of the vaulting beneath the houses nos. and . the arch of the vault here is plain and more pointed. the masonry appears, from an aperture near to the warehouse above, to be of considerable thickness. this crypt or vault is seven feet in height, from the floor to the crown of the arch, and is nine feet in width, and eighteen feet long. beneath the house no. is an outer vault. the entrance to both these vaults is by a depressed tudor arch, with plain spandrils, six feet high, the thickness of the walls about four feet. in the thickness of the eastern wall of one of the vaults are cut triangular-headed niches, similar to those in which, in ancient ecclesiastical edifices, the basins containing the holy water, and sometimes lamps, were placed. these vaultings appear originally to have extended to cheapside; for beneath a house there, in a direct line with these buildings and close to the street, is a massive stone wall. the arches of this crypt are of the low pointed form, which came into use in the sixteenth century. there are no records of any monastery having existed on this spot, and it is difficult to conjecture what the building originally was. mr. chaffers thought it might be the remains of the _crown-sild_, or shed, where our sovereigns resorted to view the joustings, shows, and great marching matches on the eves of great festivals." the ancient silver parish seal of st. mary-le-bow, of which we give an engraving on page , representing the tower of the church as it existed before the great fire of , is still in existence. it represents the old coronetted tower with great exactitude. the first recorded rector of bow church was william d. cilecester ( , edward i.), and the earliest known monument in the church was in memory of sir john coventry, lord mayor in (henry vi.). the advowson of st. mary-le-bow belongs to the archbishop of canterbury, and is the chief of his thirteen _peculiars_, or insulated, livings. lovers of figures may like to know that the height of bow steeple is feet - / inches. the church altogether cost £ , s. d. it was in bow parish, maitland thinks, that john hare, the rich mercer, lived, at the sign of the "crown," in the reign of henry viii. he was a suffolk man, made a large fortune, and left a considerable sum in charity--to poor prisoners, to the hospitals, the lazar-houses, and the almsmen of whittington college--and thirty-five heavy gold mourning rings to special friends. edward iv., the same day he was proclaimed, dined at the palace at paul's (that is, baynard's castle, near st. paul's), in the city, and continued there till his army was ready to march in pursuit of king henry; during which stay in the city he caused walter walker, an eminent grocer in cheapside, to be apprehended and tried for a few harmless words innocently spoken by him--viz., that he would make his son heir to the crown, inoffensively meaning his own house, which had the crown for its sign; for which imaginary crime he was beheaded in smithfield, on the eighth day of this king's reign. this "crown" was probably hare's house. the house no. , cheapside, opposite bow church, was rebuilt after the great fire upon the sites of three ancient houses, called respectively the "black bull," leased to daniel waldo; the "cardinalle hat," leased to ann stephens; and the "black boy," leased to william carpenter, by the mercers' company. in the library of the city of london there are mss. from the surveys of wills, &c., after the fire of london, giving a description of the property, as well as the names of the respective owners. it was subsequently leased to david barclay, linendraper; and has been visited by six reigning sovereigns, from charles ii. to george iii., on civic festivities, and for witnessing the lord mayor's show. in this house sir edward waldo was knighted by charles ii., and the lord mayor, in , was created a baronet by george i. when the house was taken down in , the fine old oak-panelled dining-room, with its elaborate carvings, was purchased entire, and removed to wales. the purchaser has written an interesting description (privately printed) of the panelling, the royal visits, the barclay family, and other interesting matters. in there was sold, says mr. timbs, amongst the old materials of no. , the "fine old oak-panelling of a large dining-room, with chimney-piece and cornice to correspond, elaborately carved in fruit and foliage, in capital preservation, fee superficial." these panels were purchased by mr. morris charles jones, of gunrog, near welshpool, in north wales, for £ s. d., including commission and expenses of removal, being about s. d. per foot superficial. it has been conveyed from cheapside to gunrog. this room was the principal apartment of the house of sir edward waldo, and stated, in a pamphlet by mr. jones, "to have been visited by six reigning sovereigns, from charles ii. to george iii., on the occasion of civic festivities and for the purpose of witnessing the lord mayor's show." (see mr. jones's pamphlet, privately printed, .) a contemporary (the _builder_) doubts whether this carving can be the work of gibbons; "if so, it is a rare treasure, cheaply gained. but, except in st. paul's, a crown and ecclesiastical structure, be it remembered, not a corporate one, there is not a single example of gibbons' art to be seen in the city of london proper." goldsmiths' row, in cheapside, between old change and bucklersbury, was originally built by thomas wood, goldsmith and sheriff, in (henry vii.). stow, speaking of it, says: "it is a most beautiful frame of houses and shops, consisting of tenne faire dwellings, uniformly builded foure stories high, beautified towards the street with the goldsmiths' arms, and likeness of woodmen, in memorie of his name, riding on monstrous beasts, all richly painted and gilt." maitland assures us "it was beautiful to behold the glorious appearance of goldsmith's shops, in the south row of cheapside, which reached from the old change to bucklersbury, exclusive of four shops." the sign in stone of a nag's head upon the front of the old house, no. , indicates, it is supposed, the tavern at the corner of friday street, where, according to roman catholic scandal, the protestant bishops, on elizabeth's accession, consecrated each other in a very irregular manner. pennant thus relates the scandalous story:--"it was pretended by the adversaries of our religion, that a certain number of ecclesiastics, in their hurry to take possession of the vacant sees, assembled here, where they were to undergo the ceremony from anthony kitchen, _alias_ dunstan, bishop of llandaff, a sort of occasional conformist, who had taken the oaths of supremacy to queen elizabeth. bonner, bishop of london, then confined in prison, hearing of it, sent his chaplain to kitchen, threatening him with excommunication in case he proceeded. the prelate, therefore, refused to perform the ceremony; on which, say the roman catholics, parker and the other candidates, rather than defer possession of their dioceses, determined to consecrate one another, which, says the story, they did without any sort of scruple, and story began with parker, who instantly rose archbishop of canterbury. the simple refutation of this lying story may be read in strype's 'life of archbishop parker.'" the "nag's head tavern" is shown in la serre's print, "entrée de la reyne mère du roy," , of which we gave a copy on page of this work. "the confirmation," says strype, "was performed three days after the queen's letters commissional above-said; that is, on the th day of december, in the church of st. mary de arcubus (_i.e._ mary-le-bow, in cheapside), regularly, and according to the usual custom; and then after this manner:--first, john incent, public notary, appeared personally, and presented to the right reverend the commissaries, appointed by the queen, her said letters to them directed in that behalf; humbly praying them to take upon them the execution of the said letters, and to proceed according to the contents thereof, in the said business of confirmation. and the said notary public publicly read the queen's commissional letters. then, out of the reverence and honour those bishops present (who were barlow, story, coverdale, and the suffragan of bedford), bore to her majesty, they took upon them the commission, and accordingly resolved to proceed according to the form, power, and effect of the said letters. next, the notary exhibited his proxy for the dean and chapter of the metropolitan church, and made himself a party for them; and, in the procuratorial name of the said dean and chapter, presented the venerable mr. nicolas bullingham, ll.d., and placed him before the said commissioners; who then exhibited his proxy for the said elect of canterbury, and made himself a party for him. then the said notary exhibited the original citatory mandate, together with the certificate on the back side, concerning the execution of the same; and then required all and singular persons cited, to be publicly called. and consequently a threefold proclamation was made, of all and singular opposers, at the door of the parochial church aforesaid; and so as is customary in these cases. "then, at the desire of the said notary to go on in this business of confirmation, they, the commissioners, decreed so to do, as was more fully contained in a schedule read by bishop barlow, with the consent of his colleagues. it is too long to relate distinctly every formal proceeding in this business; only it may be necessary to add some few of the most material passages. "then followed the deposition of witnesses concerning the life and actions, learning and abilities of the said elect; his freedom, his legitimacy, his priesthood, and such like. one of the witnesses was john baker, of thirty-nine years old, gent., who is said to sojourn for the present with the venerable dr. parker, and to be born in the parish of st. clement's, in norwich. he, among other things, witnessed, 'that the same reverend father was and is a prudent man, commended for his knowledge of sacred scripture, and for his life and manners. that he was a freeman, and born in lawful matrimony; that he was in lawful age, and in priest's orders, and a faithful subject to the queen;' and the said baker, in giving the reason of his knowledge in this behalf, said, 'that he was the natural brother of the lord elect, and that they were born _ex unis parentibus_' (or rather, surely, _ex una parente_, _i.e._, of one mother). william tolwyn, m.a., aged seventy years, and rector of st. anthony, london, was another witness, who had known the said elect thirty years, and knew his mother, and that he was still very well acquainted with him, and of his certain knowledge could testify all above said. "the notary exhibited the process of the election by the dean and chapter; which the commissioners did take a diligent view of, and at last, in the conclusion of this affair, the commissioners decreed the said most reverend lord elected and presently confirmed, should receive his consecration; and committed to him the care, rule, and administration, both of the temporals and spirituals of the said archbishopric; and decreed him to be inducted into the real, actual, and corporal possession of the same archbishopric. "after many years the old story is ventured again into the world, in a book printed at douay, anno , wherein they thus tell their tale. 'i know they (_i.e._, the protestants) have tried many ways, and feigned an old record (meaning the authentic register of archbishop parker) to prove their ordination from catholic bishops. but it was false, as i have received from two certain witnesses. the former of them was dr. darbyshire, then dean of st. paul's (canon there, perhaps, but never dean), and nephew to dr. boner, bishop of london; who almost sixty years since lived at meux port, then a holy, religious man (a jesuit), very aged, but perfect in sense and memory, who, speaking what he knew, affirmed to myself and another with me, _that like good fellows they made themselves bishops at an inn, because they could get no true bishops to consecrate them_. my other witness was a gentleman of honour, worth, and credit, dead not many years since, whose father, a chief judge of this kingdom, visiting archbishop heath, saw a letter, sent from bishop boner out of the marshalsea, by one of his chaplains, to the archbishop, read, while they sat at dinner together; wherein he merrily related the manner how these new bishops (because he had dissuaded ogelthorp, bishop of carlisle, from doing it in his diocese) ordained one another at an inn, where they met together. and while others laughed at this new manner of consecrating bishops, the archbishop himself, gravely, and not without tears, expressed his grief to see such a ragged company of men come poor out of foreign parts, and appointed to succeed the old clergy.' "which forgery, when once invented, was so acceptable to the romanists, that it was most confidently repeated again in an english book, printed at antwerp, , _permissione superiorum_, being a second edition, licensed by gulielmo bolognimo, where the author sets down his story in these words:--'the heretics who were named to succeed in the other bishops' sees, could not prevail with llandaff (whom he calls a little before _an old simple man_) to consecrate them at the "nag's head," in cheapside, where they appointed to meet him. and therefore they made use of story, who was never ordained bishop, though he bore the name in king edward's reign. kneeling before him, he laid the bible upon their heads or shoulders, and bid them rise up and preach the word of god sincerely. 'this is,' added he, 'so evident a truth, that for the space of fifty years no protestant durst contradict it.'" "the form adopted at the confirmation of archbishop parker," says dr. pusey in a letter dated , quoted by mr. timbs, "was carefully framed on the old form used in the confirmations by archbishop chichele (which was the point for which i examined the registers in the lambeth library). the words used in the consecration of the bishops confirmed by chichele do not occur in the registers. the words used by the consecrators of parker, 'accipe spiritum sanctum,' were read in the later pontificals, as in that of exeter, lacy's (maskell's 'monumenta ritualia,' iii. ). roman catholic writers admit _that_ only is essential to consecration which the english service-book retained--prayer during the service, which should have reference to the office of bishop, and the imposition of hands. and, in fact, cardinal pole engaged to retain in their orders those who had been so ordained under edward vi., and his act was confirmed by paul iv." (sanders, _de schism. angl._, l. iii. .) the house no. , cheapside, shown in our illustration on page , was erected, from the design of sir christopher wren, for sir william turner, knight, who served the office of lord mayor in the year - , and here he kept his mayoralty. at the "queen's arms tavern," no. , cheapside, the poet keats once lived. the second floor of the house which stretches over the passage leading to this tavern was his lodging. here, says cunningham, he wrote his magnificent sonnet on chapman's "homer," and all the poems in his first little volume. keats, the son of a livery-stable keeper in moorfields, was born in , and died of consumption at rome in . he published his "endymion" (the inspiration suggested from lempriere alone) in . we annex the glorious sonnet written within sound of bow bells:-- on first looking into chapman's "homer." "much have i travell'd in the realms of gold, and many goodly states and kingdoms seen; round many western islands have i been, which bards, in fealty to apollo, hold. oft of one wide expanse had i been told that deep-brow'd homer ruled as his demesne; yet did i never breathe its pure serene till i heard chapman speak out loud and bold; then felt i like some watcher of the skies when a new planet swims into his ken; or like stout cortez when with eagle eyes he stared at the pacific--and all his men look'd at each other with a wild surmise-- silent, upon a peak in darien." behnes' poor bald statue of sir robert peel, in the paternoster row end of cheapside, was uncovered july st, . the _builder_ at the time justly lamented that so much good metal was wasted. the statue is without thought--the head is set on the neck awkwardly, the pedestal is senseless, and the two double lamps at the side are mean and paltry. saddlers' hall is close to foster lane, cheapside. "near unto this lane," says strype, "but in cheapside, is saddlers' hall--a pretty good building, seated at the upper end of a handsome alley, near to which is half moon alley, which is but small, at the upper end of which is a tavern, which gives a passage into foster lane, and another into gutter lane." "this appears," says maitland, "to be a fraternity of great antiquity, by a convention agreed upon between them and the dean and chapter of st. martin's-le-grand, about the reign of richard i., at which time i imagine it to have been an adulterine guild, seeing it was only incorporated by letters patent of edward i., by the appellation of 'the wardens, or keepers and commonalty of the mystery or art of sadlers, london.' this company is governed by a prime and three other wardens, and eighteen assistants, with a livery of seventy members, whose fine of admission is ten pounds.[ ] at the entrance is an ornamental doorcase, and an iron gate, and it is a very complete building for the use of such a company. it is adorned with fretwork and wainscot, and the company's arms are carved in stone over the gate next the street." in , prince frederick of wales, that hopeless creature, being desirous of seeing the lord mayor's show privately, visited the city in disguise. at that time it was the custom for several of the city companies, particularly for those who had no barges, to have stands erected in the streets through which the lord mayor passed on his return from westminster, in which the freemen of companies were accustomed to assemble. it happened that his royal highness was discovered by some of the saddlers' company, in consequence of which he was invited to their stand, which invitation he accepted, and the parties were so well pleased with each other that his royal highness was soon after chosen master of the company, a compliment which he also accepted. the city on that occasion formed a resolution to compliment his royal highness with the freedom of london, pursuant to which the court of lord mayor and aldermen attended the prince, on the th of december, with the said freedom, of which the following is a copy:-- "the most high, most potent, and most illustrious prince frederick lewis, prince of great britain, electoral prince of brunswick-lunenburg, prince of wales, duke of cornwall, duke of rothsay, duke of edinburgh, marquis of the isle of ely, earl of eltham, earl of chester, viscount launceston, baron of renfrew, baron of snowdon, lord of the isles, steward of scotland, knight of the most noble order of the garter, and one of his majesty's most honourable privy council, of his mere grace and princely favour, did the most august city of london the honour to accept the freedom thereof, and was admitted of the company of the saddlers, in the time of the right honourable sir john thompson, knight, lord mayor, and john bosworth, esq., chamberlain of the said city." in his "industry and idleness," hogarth shows us the prince and princess on the balcony of saddler's hall. [illustration: bow church, cheapside. (_from a view taken about ._)] that dull poet, worthy sir richard blackmore, whom locke and addison praised and dryden ridiculed, lived either at saddlers' hall or just opposite. it was on this weariful tupper of his day that garth wrote these verses:-- "unwieldy pedant, let thy awkward muse, with censures praise, with flatteries abuse. to lash, and not be felt, in thee's an art; thou ne'er mad'st any but thy schoolboys smart. then be advis'd, and scribble not agen; thou'rt fashioned for a flail, and not a pen. if b----l's immortal wit thou wouldst descry, pretend 'tis he that writ thy poetry. thy feeble satire ne'er can do him wrong; thy poems and thy patients live not long." [illustration: no. , cheapside (_see page _). (_from an old view._)] and some other satirical verses on sir richard began:-- "'twas kindly done of the good-natured cits, to place before thy door a brace of tits." blackmore, who had been brought up as an attorney's clerk and schoolmaster, wrote most of his verses in his carriage, as he drove to visit his patients, a feat to which dryden alludes when he talks of blackmore writing to the "rumbling of his carriage-wheels." at no. , cheapside lived alderman boydell, engraver and printseller, a man who in his time did more for english art than all the english monarchs from the conquest downwards. he was apprenticed, when more than twenty years old, to mr. tomson, engraver, and soon felt a desire to popularise and extend the art. his first funds he derived from the sale of a book of humble prints, engraved by himself. with the profits he was enabled to pay the best engravers liberally, to make copies of the works of our best masters. "the alderman assured me," says "rainy day smith," "that when he commenced publishing, he etched small plates of landscapes, which he produced in plates of six, and sold for sixpence; and that as there were very few print-shops at that time in london, he prevailed upon the sellers of children's toys to allow his little books to be put in their windows. these shops he regularly visited every saturday, to see if any had been sold, and to leave more. his most successful shop was the sign of the 'cricket bat,' in duke's court, st. martin's lane, where he found he had sold as many as came to five shillings and sixpence. with this success he was so pleased, that, wishing to invite the shopkeeper to continue in his interest, he laid out the money in a silver pencil-case; which article, after he had related the above anecdote, he took out of his pocket and assured me he never would part with. he then favoured me with the following history of woollett's plate of the 'niobe,' and, as it is interesting, i shall endeavour to relate it in mr. boydell's own words:-- "'when i got a little forward in the world,' said the venerable alderman, 'i took a whole shop, for at my commencement i kept only half a one. in the course of one year i imported numerous impressions of vernet's celebrated "storm," so admirably engraved by lerpinière, for which i was obliged to pay in hard cash, as the french took none of our prints in return. upon mr. woollett's expressing himself highly delighted with the "storm," i was induced, knowing his ability as an engraver, to ask him if he thought he could produce a print of the same size which i could send over, so that in future i could avoid payment in money, and prove to the french nation that an englishman could produce a print of equal merit; upon which he immediately declared that he should like much to try. "'at this time the principal conversation among artists was upon mr. wilson's grand picture of "niobe," which had just arrived from rome. i therefore immediately applied to his royal highness the duke of gloucester, its owner, and procured permission for woollett to engrave it. but before he ventured upon the task, i requested to know what idea he had as to the expense, and after some consideration, he said he thought he could engrave it for one hundred guineas. this sum, small as it may now appear, was to me,' observed the alderman, 'an unheard-of price, being considerably more than i had given for any copper-plate. however, serious as the sum was, i bade him get to work, and he proceeded with all cheerfulness, for as he went on i advanced him money; and though he lost no time, i found that he had received nearly the whole amount before he had half finished his task. i frequently called upon him, and found him struggling with serious difficulties, with his wife and family, in an upper lodging in green's court, castle street, leicester square, for there he lived before he went into green street. however, i encouraged him by allowing him to draw on me to the extent of twenty-five pounds more; and at length that sum was paid, and i was unavoidably under the necessity of saying, "mr. woollett, i find we have made too close a bargain with each other. you have exerted yourself, and i fear i have gone beyond my strength, or, indeed, what i ought to have risked, as we neither of us can be aware of the success of the speculation. however, i am determined, whatever the event may be, to enable you to finish it to your wish--at least, to allow you to work upon it as long as another twenty-five pounds can extend, but there we must positively stop." the plate was finished; and, after taking very few proofs, i published the print at five shillings, and it succeeded so much beyond my expectations, that i immediately employed mr. woollett upon another engraving, from another picture by wilson; and i am now thoroughly convinced that had i continued publishing subjects of this description, my fortune would have been increased tenfold.'" "in the year ," says knowles, in his "life of fuseli," "mr. alderman boydell, at the suggestion of mr. george nicol, began to form his splendid collection of modern historical pictures, the subjects being from shakespeare's plays, and which was called 'the shakespeare gallery.' this liberal and well-timed speculation gave great energy to this branch of the art, as well as employment to many of our best artists and engravers, and among the former to fuseli, who executed eight large and one small picture for the gallery. the following were the subjects: 'prospero,' 'miranda,' 'caliban,' and 'ariel,' from the _tempest_; 'titania in raptures with bottom, who wears the ass's head, attendant fairies, &c.;' 'titania awaking, discovers oberon at her side, puck is removing the ass's head from bottom' (_midsummer night's dream_); 'henry v. with the conspirators' (_king henry v._); 'lear dismissing cordelia from his court' (_king lear_); 'ghost of hamlet's father' (_hamlet_); 'falstaff and doll' (_king henry iv., second part_); 'macbeth meeting the witches on the heath' (_macbeth_); 'robin goodfellow' (_midsummer night's dream_). this gallery gave the public an opportunity of judging of fuseli's versatile powers. "the stately majesty of the 'ghost of hamlet's father' contrasted with the expressive energy of his son, and the sublimity brought about by the light, shadow, and general tone, strike the mind with awe. in the picture of 'lear' is admirably portrayed the stubborn rashness of the father, the filial piety of the discarded daughter, and the wicked determination of regan and goneril. the fairy scenes in _midsummer night's dream_ amuse the fancy, and show the vast inventive powers of the painter; and 'falstaff with doll' is exquisitely ludicrous. "the example set by boydell was a stimulus to other speculators of a similar nature, and within a few years appeared the macklin and woodmason galleries; and it may be said with great truth that fuseli's pictures were among the most striking, if not the best, in either collection." "a.d. ," says northcote, in his "life of reynolds," "when alderman boydell projected the scheme of his magnificent edition of the plays of shakespeare, accompanied with large prints from pictures to be executed by english painters, it was deemed to be absolutely necessary that something of sir joshua's painting should be procured to grace the collection; but, unexpectedly, sir joshua appeared to be rather shy in the business, as if he thought it degrading himself to paint for a printseller, and he would not at first consent to be employed in the work. george stevens, the editor of shakespeare, now undertook to persuade him to comply, and, taking a bank-bill of five hundred pounds in his hand, he had an interview with sir joshua, when, using all his eloquence in argument, he, in the meantime, slipped the bank-bill into his hand; he then soon found that his mode of reasoning was not to be resisted, and a picture was promised. sir joshua immediately commenced his studies, and no less than three paintings were exhibited at the shakspeare gallery, or at least taken from that poet, the only ones, as has been very correctly said, which sir joshua ever executed for his illustration, with the exception of a head of 'king lear' (done indeed in ), and now in possession of the marchioness of thomond, and a portrait of the hon. mrs. tollemache, in the character of 'miranda,' in _the tempest_, in which 'prospero' and 'caliban' are introduced. "one of these paintings for the gallery was 'puck,' or 'robin goodfellow,' as it has been called, which, in point of expression and animation, is unparalleled, and one of the happiest efforts of sir joshua's pencil, though it has been said by some cold critics not to be perfectly characteristic of the merry wanderer of shakespeare. 'macbeth,' with the witches and the caldron, was another, and for this last mr. boydell paid him , guineas; but who is now the possessor of it i know not. "'puck' was painted in . walpole depreciates it as 'an ugly little imp (but with some character) sitting on a mushroom half as big as a milestone.' mr. nicholls, of the british institution, related to mr. cotton that the alderman and his grandfather were with sir joshua when painting the death of cardinal beaufort. boydell was much taken with the portrait of a naked child, and wished it could be brought into the shakspeare. sir joshua said it was painted from a little child he found sitting on his steps in leicester square. nicholls' grandfather then said, 'well, mr. alderman, it can very easily come into the shakspeare if sir joshua will kindly place him upon a mushroom, give him fawn's ears, and make a puck of him.' sir joshua liked the notion, and painted the picture accordingly. "the morning of the day on which sir joshua's 'puck' was to be sold, lord farnborough and davies, the painter, breakfasted with mr. rogers, and went to the sale together. when the picture was put up there was a general clapping of hands, and yet it was knocked down to mr. rogers for guineas. as he walked home from the sale, a man carried 'puck' before him, and so well was the picture known that more than one person, as they were going along the street, called out, 'there it is!' at mr. rogers' sale, in , it was purchased by earl fitzwilliam for guineas. the grown-up person of the sitter for 'puck' was in messrs. christie and manson's room during the sale, and stood next to lord fitzwilliam, who is also a survivor of the sitters to sir joshua. the merry boy, whom sir joshua found upon his doorstep, subsequently became a porter at elliot's brewery, in pimlico." in , alderman boydell applied through his friend, sir john w. anderson, to the house of commons, for leave to dispose of his paintings and drawings by lottery. in his petition he described himself, with modesty and pathos, as an old man of eighty-five, anxious to free himself from debts which now oppressed him, although he, with his brethren, had expended upwards of £ , in promoting the fine arts. sixty years before he had begun to benefit engraving by establishing a school of english engravers. at that time the whole print commerce of england consisted in importing a few foreign prints (chiefly french) "to supply the cabinets of the curious." in time he effected a total change in this branch of commerce, "very few prints being now imported, while the foreign market is principally supplied with prints from england." by degrees, the large sums received from the continent for english plates encouraged him to attempt also an english school of pictorial painting, the want of such a school having been long a source of opprobrium among foreign writers on england. the shakespeare gallery was sufficient to convince the world that english genius only needed encouragement to obtain a facility, versatility, and independence of thought unknown to the italian, flemish, or french schools. that gallery he had long hoped to have left to a generous public, but the recent vandalic revolution in france had cut up his revenue by the roots, flanders, holland, and germany being his chief marts. at the same time he acknowledged he had not been provident, his natural enthusiasm for promoting the fine arts having led him after each success to fly at once to some new artist with the whole gains of his former undertaking. he had too late seen his error, having increased his stock of copper-plates to such a heap that all the print-sellers in europe (especially in these unfavourable times) could not purchase them. he therefore prayed for permission to create a lottery, the house having the assurance of the even tenor of a long life "that it would be fairly and honourably conducted." the worthy man obtained leave for his lottery, and died december , a few days after the last tickets were sold. he was buried with civic state in the church of st. olave, jewry, the lord mayor, aldermen, and several artists attending. boydell was very generous and charitable. he gave pictures to adorn the city council chamber, the court room of the stationers' company, and the dining-room of the sessions house. he was also a generous benefactor to the humane society and the literary fund, and was for many years the president of both societies. the shakespeare gallery finally fell by lottery to mr. tassie, the well-known medallist, who thrived to a good old age upon the profits of poor boydell's too generous expenditure. this enterprising man was elected alderman of cheap ward in , sheriff in , and lord mayor in . his death was occasioned by a cold, caught at the old bailey sessions. his nephew, josiah boydell, engraved for him for forty years. it was the regular custom of mr. alderman boydell (says "rainy day" smith), who was a very early riser, to repair at five o'clock immediately to the pump in ironmonger lane. there, after placing his wig upon the ball at the top, he used to sluice his head with its water. this well known and highly respected character was one of the last men who wore a three-cornered hat, commonly called the "egham, staines, and windsor." footnotes: [ ] i regret that, relying upon authorities which are not corrected up to the present date, i was led into some errors in my account of the stationers' company on pp. -- of this work. the table of planetary influences has been for several years discontinued in moore's almanack; and the company are not entitled to receive for themselves any copies of new books.--w.t. chapter xxix. cheapside tributaries--south. the king's exchange--friday street and the poet chaucer--the wednesday club in friday street--william paterson, founder of the bank of england--how easy it is to redeem the national debt--st. matthew's and st. margaret moses--bread street and the bakers' shops--st. austin's, watling street--the fraternity of st. austin's--st. mildred's, bread street--the mitre tavern--a priestly duel--milton's birthplace--the "mermaid"--sir walter raleigh and the mermaid club--thomas coryatt, the traveller--bow lane--queen street--soper's lane--a mercer knight--st. bennet sherehog--epitaphs in the church of st. thomas apostle--a charitable merchant. old change was formerly the old exchange, so called from the king's exchange, says stow, there kept, which was for the receipt of bullion to be coined. the king's exchange was in old exchange, now old 'change, cheapside. "it was here," says tite, "that one of those ancient officers, known as the king's exchanger, was placed, whose duty it was to attend to the supply of the mints with bullion, to distribute the new coinage, and to regulate the exchange of foreign coin. of these officers there were anciently three--two in london, at the tower and old exchange, and one in the city of canterbury. subsequently another was appointed, with an establishment in lombard street, the ancient rendezvous of the merchants; and it appears not improbable that queen elizabeth's intention was to have removed this functionary to what was pre-eminently designated by her 'the royal exchange,' and hence the reason for the change of the name of this edifice by elizabeth." "in the reign of henry vii.," says francis, in his "history of the bank of england," "the royal prerogative forbade english coins to be exported, and the royal exchange was alone entitled to give native money for foreign coin or bullion. during the reign of henry viii. the coin grew so debased as to be difficult to exchange, and the goldsmiths quietly superseded the royal officer. in charles i., ever on the watch for power, re-established the office, and in a pamphlet written by his orders, asserted that 'the prerogative had always been a flower of the crown, and that the goldsmiths had left off their proper trade and turned exchangers of plate and foreign coins for our english coins, although they had no right.' charles entrusted the office of 'changer, exchanger, and ante-changer' to henry rich, first earl of holland, who soon deserted his cause for that of the parliament. the office has not since been re-established." no. , old 'change was formerly the "three morrice dancers" public-house, with the three figures sculptured on a stone as the sign and an ornament (_temp._ james i.). the house was taken down about . there is an etching of this very characteristic sign on stone. (timbs.) the celebrated poet and enthusiast, lord herbert of cherbury, lived, in the reign of james i., in a "house among gardens, near the old exchange." at the beginning of the last century, the place was chiefly inhabited by american merchants; at this time it is principally inhabited by calico printers and manchester warehousemen. "friday street was so called," says stow, "of fishmongers dwelling there, and serving friday's market." in the roll of the scrope and grosvenor heraldic controversy (edward iii.) the poet chaucer is recorded as giving the following evidence connected with this street:-- "geffray chaucere, esqueer, of the age of forty years, and moreover armed twenty-seven years for the side of sir richard lescrop, sworn and examined, being asked if the arms, azyure, a bend or, belonged or ought to pertain to the said sir richard by right and heritage, said, yes; for he saw him so armed in france, before the town of petters, and sir henry lescrop armed in the same arms with a white label and with banner; and the said sir richard armed in the entire arms azyure a bend or, and so during the whole expedition until the said geaffray was taken. being asked how he knew that the said arms belonged to the said sir richard, said that he had heard old knights and esquires say that they had had continual possession of the said arms; and that he had seen them displayed on banners, glass paintings, and vestments, and commonly called the arms of scrope. being asked whether he had ever heard of any interruption or challenge made by sir robert grosvernor or his ancestors, said no; but that he was once in friday street, london, and walking up the street he observed a new sign hanging out with these arms thereon, and enquired what inn that was that had hung out these arms of scrope? and one answered him, saying, 'they are not hung out, sir, for the arms of scrope, nor painted there for those arms, but they are painted and put there by a knight of the county of chester, called sir robert grosvernor.' and that was the first time he ever heard speak of sir robert grosvernor or his ancestors, or of any one bearing the name of grosvernor." this is really almost the only authentic scrap we possess of the facts of chaucer's life. the "white horse," a tavern in friday street, makes a conspicuous figure in the "merry conceited jests of george peele," the poet and playwriter of elizabeth's reign. at the wednesday club in friday street, william paterson, the founder of the bank of england, and originator of the unfortunate darien scheme, held his real or imaginary wednesday club meetings, in which were discussed proposals for the union of england and scotland, and the redemption of the national debt. this remarkable financier was born at lochnabar, in dumfriesshire, in , and died in . the following extracts from paterson's probably imaginary conversations are of interest:-- "and thus," says paterson, "supposing the people of scotland to be in number one million, and that as matters now stand their industry yields them only about five pounds per annum per head as reckoned one with another, or five millions yearly in the whole, at this rate these five millions will by the union not only be advanced to six, but put in a way of further improvement; and allowing £ , per annum were on this foot to be paid in additional taxes, yet there would still remain a yearly sum of about £ , towards subsisting the people more comfortably, and making provision against times of scarcity, and other accidents, to which, i understand, that country is very much exposed ( )." "and i remember complaints of this kind were very loud in the days of king charles ii.," said mr. brooks, "particularly that, though in his time the public taxes and impositions upon the people were doubled or trebled to what they formerly were, he nevertheless run at least a million in debt." "if men were uneasy with public taxes and debts in the time of king charles ii.," said mr. may, "because then doubled or trebled to what they had formerly been, how much more may they be so now, when taxed at least three times more, and the public debts increased from about one million, as you say they then were, to fifty millions or upwards?... and yet france is in a way of being entirely out of debt in a year or two." [illustration: the door of saddler's hall (_see page _).] "at this rate," said mr. may, "great britain may possibly be quite out of debt in four or five years, or less. but though it seems we have been at least as hasty in running into debt as those in france, yet would i by no means advise us to run so hastily out; slower measures will be juster, and consequently better and surer." mr. pitt's celebrated measure was based upon an opinion that money could be borrowed with advantage to pay the national debt. paterson proposed to redeem it out of a surplus revenue, administered so skilfully as to lower the interest in the money market. the notion of _borrowing_ to pay seems to have sprung up with sir nathaniel gould, in , when it was opposed. st. matthew's was situate on the west side of friday street. the patronage of it was in the abbot and convent of westminster. this church, being destroyed by the fire of london, in , was handsomely rebuilt, and the parish of st. peter, cheap, thereunto added by act of parliament. the following epitaph ( ) was in this church:-- "anthony cage entombed here doth rest, whose wisdome still prevail'd the commonweale; a man with god's good gifts so greatly blest, that few or none his doings may impale, a man unto the widow and the poore, a comfort, and a succour evermore. three wives he had of credit and of fame; the first of them, elizabeth that hight, who buried here, brought to this _cage_, by name, seventeene young plants, to give his table light." "at st. margaret moyses," says stow, "was buried mr. buss (or briss), a skinner, one of the masters of the hospital. there attended all the masters of the hospital, with green staves in their hands, and all the company in their liveries, with twenty clerks singing before. the sermon was preached by mr. jewel, afterwards bishop of salisbury; and therein he plainly affirmed there was no purgatory. thence the company retired to his house to dinner. this burial was _an._ , jan. . [illustration: milton's house.] [illustration: milton's burial-place.] the following epitaph ( ) is worth preserving:-- "beati mortui qui in domino moriuntur."--apoc. . "to william dane, that sometime was an ironmonger; where each degree he worthily (with praise) did passe. by wisdom, truth, and heed, was he advanc'd an alderman to be; then sheriffe; that he, with justice prest, and cost, performed with the best. in almes frank, of conscience cleare; in grace with prince, to people glad; his vertuous wife, his faithful peere, margaret, this monument hath made; meaning (through god) that as shee had with him (in house) long lived well; even so in tombes blisse to dwell." "bread street," says stow, "is so called of bread there in old times then sold; for it appeareth by records, that in the year , which was the th of edward i., the bakers of london were bound to sell no bread in their shops or houses, but in the market here; and that they should have four hall motes in the year, at four several terms, to determine of enormities belonging to the said company. bread street is now wholly inhabited by rich merchants, and divers fair inns be there, for good receipt of carriers and other travellers to the city. it appears in the will of edward stafford, earl of wylshire, dated the nd of march, , and henry vii., that he lived in a house in bread street, in london, which belonged to the family of stafford, duke of bucks afterwards; he bequeathed all the stuff in that house to the lord of buckingham, for he died without issue." the parish church of "st. augustine, in watheling street" was destroyed by the great fire, but rebuilt in . stow informs us that here was a fraternity founded a.d. , called the _fraternity of st. austin's_, in watling street, and other good people dwelling in the city. "they were, on the eve of st. austin's, to meet at the said church, in the morning at high mass, and every brother to offer a penny. and after that to be ready, _al mangier ou al revele; i.e., to eat or to revel_, according to the ordinance of the master and wardens of the fraternity. they set up in the honour of god and st. austin, one branch of six tapers in the said church, before the image of st. austin; and also two torches, with the which, if any of the said fraternity were commended to god, he might be carried to the earth. they were to meet at the vault at paul's (perhaps st. faith's), and to go thence to the church of st. austin's, and the priests and the clerks said _placebo_ and _dilige_, and in matins, a mass of requiem at the high altar." "there is a flat stone," says stow, "in the south aisle of the church. it is laid over an armenian merchant, of which foreign merchants there be divers that lodge and harbour in the old change in this parish." st. mildred's, in bread street, was repaired in . "at the upper end of the chancel," says strype, "is a fine window, full of cost and beauty, which being divided into five parts, carries in the first of them a very artful and curious representation of the spaniard's great armado, and the battle in ; in the second, the monument of queen elizabeth; in the third, the gunpowder plot; in the fourth, the lamentable time of infection, ; and in the fifth and last, the view and lively portraiture of that worthy gentleman, captain nicolas crispe, at whose sole cost (among other) this beautiful piece of work was erected, as also the figures of his vertuous wife and children, with the arms belonging to them." this church, burnt down in the great fire, was rebuilt again. st. mildred was a saxon lady, and daughter of merwaldus, a west-mercian prince, and brother to penda, king of the mercians, who, despising the pomps and vanities of this world, retired to a convent at hale, in france, whence, returning to england, accompanied by seventy virgins, she was consecrated abbess of a new monastery in the isle of thanet, by theodore, archbishop of canterbury, where she died abbess, _anno_ . on the east side of bread street is the church of allhallows. "on the south side of the chancel, in a little part of this church, called _the salter's chapel_," says strype, "is a very fair window, with the portraiture or figure of him that gave it, very curiously wrought upon it. this church, ruined in the great fire, is built up again without any pillars, but very decent, and is a lightsome church." "in the nd of henry viii., the th of august, two priests of this church fell at variance, that the one drew blood of the other, wherefore the same church was suspended, and no service sung or said therein for the space of one month after; the priests were committed to prison, and the th of october, being enjoined penance, they went at the head of a general procession, barefooted and bare-legged, before the children, with beads and books in their hands, from paul's, through cheap, cornhill," &c. among the epitaphs the following, given by stow, is quaint:-- "to the sacred memory of that worthy and faithfull minister of christ, master richard stocke; who after yeeres spent in the ministry, wherein by his learned labours, joined with wisedome, and a most holy life, god's glory was much advanced, his church edified, piety increased, and the true honour of a pastor's life maintained; deceased april , . some of his loving parishioners have consecrated this monument of their never-dying love, jan. , . "thy lifelesse trunke (o reverend stocke), like aaron's rod sprouts out againe; and after two full winters past, yields blossomes and ripe fruit amaine. for why, this work of piety, performed by some of thy flocke, to thy dead corps and sacred urne, is but the fruit of this old stocke." the father of milton, the poet, was a scrivener in bread street, living at the sign of "the spread eagle," the armorial ensign of his family. the first turning on the left hand, as you enter from cheapside, was called "black spread eagle court," and not unlikely from the family ensign of the poet's father. milton was born in this street (december , ), and baptised in the adjoining church of allhallows, bread street, where the register of his baptism is still preserved. of the house in which he resided in later life, and the churchyard of st. giles, cripplegate, where he was buried, we give a view on page . aubrey tells us that the house and chamber in which the poet was born were often visited by foreigners, even in the poet's lifetime. their visits must have taken place before the fire, for the house was destroyed in the great fire, and "paradise lost" was published after it. spread eagle court is at the present time a warehouse-yard, says mr. david masson. the position of a scrivener was something between a notary and a law stationer. there was a city prison formerly in bread street. "on the west side of bread street," says stow, "amongst divers fair and large houses for merchants, and fair inns for passengers, had they one prison-house pertaining to the sheriffs of london, called the compter, in bread street; but in the prisoners were removed from thence to one other new compter in wood street, provided by the city's purchase, and built for that purpose." the "mermaid" tavern, in cheapside, about the site of which there has been endless controversy, stood in bread street, with side entrances, as mr. burn has shown, with admirable clearness, in friday street and bread street; hence the disputes of antiquaries. mr. burn, in his book on "tokens," says, "the site of the 'mermaid' is clearly defined, from the circumstance of w.r., a haberdasher of small wares, 'twixt wood street and milk street, adopting the sign, 'over against the mermaid tavern in cheapside.'" the tavern was destroyed in the great fire. here sir walter raleigh is, by one of the traditions, said to have instituted "the mermaid club." gifford, in his edition of "ben jonson," has thus described the club:--"about this time ( ) jonson probably began to acquire that turn for conviviality for which he was afterwards noted. sir walter raleigh, previously to his unfortunate engagement with the wretched cobham and others, had instituted a meeting of _beaux esprits_ at the 'mermaid,' a celebrated tavern in friday street. of this club, which combined more talent and genius than ever met together before or since, our author was a member, and here for many years he regularly repaired, with shakespeare, beaumont, fletcher, selden, cotton, carew, martin, donne, and many others, whose names, even at this distant period, call up a mingled feeling of reverence and respect." but this is doubted. a writer in the _athenæum_, sept. , , states:--"the origin of the common tale of raleigh founding the 'mermaid club,' of which shakespeare is said to have been a member, has not been traced. is it older than gifford?" again:--"gifford's apparent invention of the 'mermaid club.' prove to us that raleigh founded the 'mermaid club,' that the wits attended it under his presidency, and you will have made a real contribution to our knowledge of shakespeare's time, even if you fail to show that our poet was a member of that club." the tradition, it is thought, must be added to the long list of shakespearian doubts. but we nevertheless have a noble record left of the wit combats here in the celebrated epistle of beaumont to jonson:-- "methinks the little wit i had is lost since i saw you; for wit is like a rest held up at tennis, which men do the best with the best gamesters. what things have we seen done at the 'mermaid?' heard words that have been so nimble, and so full of subtle flame, as if that every one from whence they came had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, and had resolved to live a fool the rest of his dull life. then, when there hath been thrown wit able enough to justify the town for three days past--wit that might warrant be for the whole city to talk foolishly till that were cancelled; and when that was gone, we left an air behind us, which alone was able to make the two next companies right witty; though but downright fools, more wise." "many," says fuller, "were the wit combats betwixt him (shakespeare) and ben jonson, which two i behold like a spanish great galleon and an english man-of-war. master jonson (like the former) was built far higher in learning, solid, but slow in his performances; shakespeare, with the english man-of-war, lesser in bulk, but lighter in sailing, could turn with all tides, and take advantage of all winds, by the quickness of his wit and invention." these combats, one is willing to think, although without any evidence at all, took place at the "mermaid" on such evenings as beaumont so glowingly describes. but all we really know is that beaumont and ben jonson met at the "mermaid," and shakespeare might have been of the company. fuller, mr. charles knight reminds us, was only eight years old when shakespeare died. john rastell, the brother-in-law of sir thomas more, was a printer, living at the sign of the "mermaid," in cheapside. "the pastyme of the people" (folio, ) is described as "breuly copyled and empryntyd in chepesyde, at the sygne of the 'mearemayd,' next to pollys (paul's) gate." stow also mentions this tavern:--"they" (coppinger and arthington, false prophets), says the historian, "had purposed to have gone with the like cry and proclamation, through other the chiefe parts of the citie; but the presse was so great, as that they were forced to goe into a taverne in cheape, at the sign of the 'mermayd,' the rather because a gentleman of his acquaintance plucked at coppinger, whilst he was in the cart, and blamed him for his demeanour and speeches." there was also a "mermaid" in cornhill. in bow lane resided thomas coryat, an eccentric traveller of the reign of james i., and a butt of ben jonson and his brother wits. in coryat took a journey on foot through france, italy, germany, &c, which lasted five months, during which he had travelled , miles, more than half upon one pair of shoes, which were only once mended, and on his return were hung up in the church of odcombe, in somersetshire. he published his travels under this title, "crudities hastily gobbled up in five months' travels in france, savoy, italy, rhetia, helvetia, some parts of high germany, and the netherlands, ," to; reprinted in , vols., vo. this work was ushered into the world by an "odcombian banquet," consisting of near sixty copies of verses, made by the best poets of that time, which, if they did not make coryat pass with the world for a man of great parts and learning, contributed not a little to the sale of his book. among these poets were ben jonson, sir john harrington, inigo jones (the architect), chapman, donne, drayton, and others. parsons, an excellent comedian, also resided in bow lane. "a greater artist," says dr. doran, in "her majesty's servants," "than baddeley left the stage soon after him, in , after three-and-thirty years of service, namely, parsons, the original 'crabtree' and 'sir fretful plagiary,' 'sir christopher curry,' 'snarl' to edwin's 'sheepface,' and 'lope torry,' in _the mountaineers_.... his _forte_ lay in old men, his pictures of whom, in all their characteristics, passions, infirmities, cunning, or imbecility, was perfect. when 'sir sampson legand' says to 'foresight,' 'look up, old star-gazer! now is he poring on the ground for a crooked pin, or an old horse-nail with the head towards him!'" we are told there could not be a finer illustration of the character which congreve meant to represent than parsons showed at the time in his face and attitude. in queen street, on the south side of cheapside, stood ringed hall, the house of the earls of cornwall, given by them, in edward iii.'s time, to the abbot of beaulieu, near oxford. henry viii. gave it to morgan philip, _alias_ wolfe. near it was "ipres inn," built by william of ipres, in king stephen's time, which continued in the same family in . stow says of soper lane, now queen street:--"soper lane, which lane took that name, not of soap-making, as some have supposed, but of alleyne le sopar, in the ninth of edward ii." "in this soper's lane," strype informs us, "the pepperers anciently dwelt--wealthy tradesmen, who dealt in spices and drugs. two of this trade were divers times mayors in the reign of henry iii., viz., andrew bocherel, and john de gisorcio or gisors. in the reign of king edward ii., anno , they came to be governed by rules and orders, which are extant in one of the books of the chamber under this title, '_ordinatio piperarum de soper's lane_.'" sir baptist hicks, viscount campden, of the time of james i., whose name is preserved in hicks's hall, and campden hill, kensington, was a rich mercer, at the sign of the "white bear," at soper lane end, in cheapside. strype says that "sir baptist was one of the first citizens that, after knighthood, kept their shops, and, being charged with it by some of the aldermen, he gave this answer, first--'that his servants kept the shop, though he had a regard to the special credit thereof; and that he did not live altogether upon the interest, as most of the aldermen did, laying aside their trade after knighthood.'" the parish church of st. syth, or bennet sherehog, or shrog, "seemeth," says stow, "to take that name from one benedict shorne, some time a citizen, and stock-fish monger, of london, a new builder, repairer, or benefactor thereof, in the reign of edward ii.; so that shorne is but corruptly called shrog, and more correctly shorehog, or (as now) sherehog." the following curious epitaph is preserved by stow:-- "here lieth buried the body of ann, the wife of john farrar, gentleman, and merchant adventurer of this city, daughter of william shepheard, of great rowlright, in the county of oxenford, esqre. she departed this life the twelfth day of july, an. dom. , being then about the age of twenty-one yeeres. "here was a bud, beginning for her may; before her flower, death took her hence away. but for what cause? that friends might joy the more; where there hope is, she flourisheth now before. she is not lost, but in those joyes remaine, where friends may see, and joy in her againe." "in the church of st. pancras, soper lane, there do lie the remains," says stow, "of robert packinton, merchant, slain with a gun, as he was going to morrow mass from his house in cheape to st. thomas of acons, in the year . the murderer was never discovered, but by his own confession, made when he came to the gallows at banbury to be hanged for felony." the following epitaph is also worth giving:-- "here lies a mary, mirror of her sex, for all that best their souls or bodies decks. faith, form, or fame, the miracle of youth; for zeal and knowledge of the sacred truth. for frequent reading of the holy writ, for fervent prayer, and for practice fit. for meditation full of use and art; for humbleness in habit and in heart. for pious, prudent, peaceful, praiseful life; for all the duties of a christian wife; for patient bearing seven dead-bearing throws; for one alive, which yet dead with her goes; from travers, her dear spouse, her father, hayes, lord maior, more honoured in her virtuous praise." "the church of st. thomas apostle stood where now the cemetery is," says maitland, "in queen street. it was of great antiquity, as is manifest by the state thereof in the year . the parish is united to the church of st. mary aldermary. there were five epitaphs in greek and latin to 'katherine killigrew.' the best is by andrew melvin." "of monuments of antiquity there were none left undefaced, except some arms in the windows, which were supposed to be the arms of john barnes, mercer, maior of london in the year , a great builder thereof. a benefactor thereof was sir william littlesbury, alias _horn_ (for king edward iv. so named him), because he was most excellent in a horn. he was a salter and merchant of the staple, mayor of london in , and was buried in the church, having appointed, by his testament, the bells to be changed for four new ones of good tune and sound; but that was not performed. he gave five hundred marks towards repairing of highways between london and cambridge. his dwelling-house, with a garden and appurtenances in the said parish, he devised to be sold, and bestowed in charitable actions. his house, called the 'george,' in bred street, he gave to the salters; they to find a priest in the said church, to have six pounds thirteen and fourpence the year. to every preacher at st. paul's cross, and at the spittle, he left fourpence for ever; to the prisoners of newgate, ludgate, from rotation to king's bench, in victuals, ten shillings at christmas, and ten shillings at easter for ever," which legacies, however, it appears, were not performed. chapter xxx. cheapside tributaries, north. goldsmiths' hall--its early days--tailors and goldsmiths at loggerheads--the goldsmiths' company's charters and records--their great annual feast--they receive queen margaret of anjou in state--a curious trial of skill--civic and state duties--the goldsmiths break up the image of their patron saint--the goldsmiths' company's assays--the ancient goldsmiths' feasts--the goldsmiths at work--goldsmiths' hall at the present day--the portraits--st. leonard's church--st. vedast--discovery of a stone coffin--coachmakers' hall. in foster lane, the first turning out of cheapside northwards, our first visit must be paid to the hall of the goldsmiths, one of the richest, most ancient, and most practical of all the great city companies. the original site of goldsmiths' hall belonged, in the reign of edward ii., to sir nicholas de segrave, a leicestershire knight, brother of gilbert de segrave, bishop of london. the date of the goldsmiths' first building is uncertain, but it is first mentioned in their records in (edward iii.). the second hall is supposed to have been built by sir dru barentyn, in (henry iv.). the livery hall had a bay window on the side next to huggin lane; the roof was surmounted with a lantern and vane; the reredos in the screen was surmounted by a silver-gilt statue of st. dunstan; and the flemish tapestry represented the story of the patron saint of goldsmiths. stow, writing in , expresses doubt at the story that bartholomew read, goldsmith and mayor in , gave a feast there to more than persons, as the hall was too small for that purpose. from till the restoration, goldsmiths' hall served as the exchequer of the commonwealth. all the money obtained from the sequestration of royalists' estates was here stored, and then disbursed for state purposes. the following is a description of the earlier hall:-- "the buildings," says herbert, "were of a fine red brick, and surrounded a small square court, paved; the front being ornamented with stone corners, wrought in rustic, and a large arched entrance, which exhibited a high pediment, supported on doric columns, and open at the top, to give room for a shield of the company's arms. the livery, or common hall, which was on the east side of the court, was a spacious and lofty apartment, paved with black and white marble, and very elegantly fitted up. the wainscoting was very handsome, and the ceiling and its appendages richly stuccoed--an enormous flower adorning the centre, and the city and goldsmiths' arms, with various decorations, appearing in its other compartments. a richly-carved screen, with composite pillars, pilasters, &c.; a balustrade, with vases, terminating in branches for lights (between which displayed the banners and flags used on public occasions); and a beaufet of considerable size, with white and gold ornaments, formed part of the embellishments of this splendid room." "the balustrade of the staircase was elegantly carved, and the walls exhibited numerous reliefs of scrolls, flowers, and instruments of music. the court-room was another richly-wainscoted apartment, and the ceiling very grand, though, perhaps somewhat overloaded with embellishments. the chimney-piece was of statuary marble, and very sumptuous." [illustration: interior of goldsmith's hall.] the guild of goldsmiths is of extreme antiquity, having been fined in (henry ii.) as adulterine, that is, established or carried on without the king's special licence; for in any matter where fines could be extorted, the norman kings took a paternal interest in the doings of their patient subjects. in (henry iii.) the goldsmiths seem to have been infected with the pugnacious spirit of the age; for we come upon bands of goldsmiths and tailors fighting in london streets, from some guild jealousy; and snippers of cloth meeting, by appointment, hammerers of metal, and having a comfortable and steady fight. in the latter case many were killed on both sides, and the sheriff at last had to interpose with the city's _posse comitatus_ and with bows, swords, and spears. the ringleaders were finally apprehended, and thirteen of them condemned and executed. in (edward i.) many spurious goldsmiths were arrested for frauds in trade, three englishmen were hung, and more than a dozen unfortunate jews. the goldsmiths were incorporated into a permanent company in the prodigal reign of richard ii., and they no doubt drove a good business with that thriftless young absalom, who, it is said wore golden bells on his sleeves and baldric. for ten marks--not a very tremendous consideration, though it was, no doubt, all he could get--richard's grandfather, that warlike and chivalrous monarch, edward iii., had already incorporated the company, and given "the mystery" of goldsmiths the privilege of purchasing in mortmain an estate of £ per annum, for the support of old and sick members; for these early guilds were benefit clubs as well as social companies, and jealous privileged monopolists; and edward's grant gave the corporation the right to inspect, try, and regulate all gold and silver wares in any part of england, with the power to punish all offenders detected in working adulterated gold and silver. edward, in all, granted four charters to the worshipful company. [illustration: trial of the pix. (_see page ._)] henry iv., henry v., and edward iv. both granted and confirmed the liberties of the company. the goldsmiths' records commence th edward iii., and furnish much curious information. in this reign all who were of goldsmiths' hall were required to have shops in chepe, and to sell no silver or gold vessels except in chepe or in the king's exchange. the first charter complains loudly of counterfeit metal, of false bracelets, lockets, rings, and jewels, made and exported; and also of vessels of tin made and subtly silvered over. the company began humbly enough, and in their first year of incorporation ( ) fourteen apprentices only were bound, the fees for admission being s., and the pensions given to twelve persons come to only £ s. in the number of apprentices in the year rose to seventy-four; and in there were payments for licensing foreign workmen and non-freemen. during the middle ages these city companies were very attentive to religious observances, and the wardens' accounts show constant entries referring to such ceremonies. their great annual feast was on st. dunstan's day (st. dunstan being the patron saint of goldsmiths), and the books of expenses show the cost of masses sung for the company by the chaplain, payments for ringing the bells at st. paul's, for drinking obits at the company's standard at st. paul's, for lights kept burning at st. james's hospital, and for chantries maintained at the churches of st. john zachary (the goldsmiths' parish church), st. peter-le-chepe, st. matthew, friday street, st. vedast, foster lane, and others. about the reign of henry vi. the records grow more interesting, and reflect more strongly the social life of the times they note. in we find the company received a special letter from henry vi., desiring them, as a craft which had at all times "notably acquitted themselves," more especially at the king's return from his coronation in paris, to meet his queen, margaret of anjou, on her arrival, in company with the mayor, aldermen, and the other london crafts. on this occasion the goldsmiths wore "bawderykes of gold, short jagged scarlet hoods," and each past warden or renter had his follower clothed in white, with a black hood and black felt hat. in this reign john chest, a goldsmith of chepe, for slanderous words against the company, was condemned to come to goldsmiths' hall, and on his knees ask all the company forgiveness for what he had myssayde; and was also forbidden to wear the livery of the company for a whole month. later still, in this reign, a goldsmith named german lyas, for selling a tablet of adulterated gold, was compelled to give to the fraternity a gilt cup, weighing twenty-four ounces, and to implore pardon on his knees. in (henry vi.), a goldsmith was fined for giving a false return of broken gold to a servant of the earl of wiltshire, who had brought it to be sold. in the fourth year of king edward iv. a very curious trial of skill between the jealous english goldsmiths and their foreign rivals took place at the "pope's head" tavern (now pope's head alley), cornhill. the contending craftsmen had to engrave four puncheons of steel (the breadth of a penny sterling) with cat's heads and naked figures in high relief and low relief; oliver davy, the englishman, won, and white johnson, the alicant goldsmith, lost his wager of a crown and a dinner to the company. in this reign there were native goldsmiths in london, and foreigners--total, . the foreigners lived chiefly in westminster, southwark, st. clement's lane, abchurch lane, brick lane, and bearbinder lane. in (henry viii.) the company agreed to send twelve men to attend the city night-watch, on the vigils of st. john baptist, and st. peter and paul. the men were to be cleanly harnessed, to carry bows and arrows, and to be arrayed in jackets of white, with the city arms. in the company sent six of their body to fetch in the new queen, anne of cleves, "the flemish mare," as her disappointed bridegroom called her. the six goldsmiths must have looked very gallant in their black velvet coats, gold chains, and velvet caps with brooches of gold; and their servants in plain russet coats. sir martin bowes was the great goldsmith in this reign; he is the man whom stow accused, when lord mayor, of rooting up all the gravestones and monuments in the grey friars, and selling them for £ . he left almshouses at woolwich, and two houses in lombard street, to the company. in (same reign) the company sent twenty-four men, by royal order, to the king's army. they were to be "honest, comely, and well-harnessed persons--four of them bowmen, and twelve billmen. they were arrayed in blue and red (after my lord norfolk's fashion), hats and hose red and blue, and with doublets of white fustian." this same year, the greedy despot henry having discovered some slight inaccuracy in the assay, contrived to extort from the poor abject goldsmiths a mighty fine of , marks. the year this english ahab died, the goldsmiths resolved, in compliment to the reformation, to break up the image of their patron saint, and also a great standing cup with an image of the same saint upon the top. among the company's plate there still exists a goodly cup given by sir martin bowes, and which is said to be the same from which queen elizabeth drank at her coronation. the government of the company has been seen to have been vested in an alderman in the reign of henry ii., and in four wardens as early as edward i. the wardens were divided, at a later period, into a prime warden (always an alderman of london), a second warden, and two renter wardens. the clerk, under the name of "clerk-comptroller," is not mentioned till ; but a similar officer must have been established much earlier. four auditors and two porters are named in the reign of henry vi. the assayer, or as he is now called, assay warden (to whom were afterwards joined two assistants), is peculiar to the goldsmiths. the company's assay of the coin, or trial of the pix, a curious proceeding of great solemnity, now takes place every year. "it is," says herbert, in his "city companies," "an investigation or inquiry into the purity and weight of the money coined, before the lords of the council, and is aided by the professional knowledge of a jury of the goldsmiths' company; and in a writ directed to the barons for that purpose ( and edward i.) is spoken of as a well-known custom. "the wardens of the goldsmiths' company are summoned by precept from the lord chancellor to form a jury, of which their assay master is always one. this jury are sworn, receive a charge from the lord chancellor; then retire into the court-room of the duchy of lancaster, where the pix (a small box, from the ancient name of which this ceremony is denominated), and which contains the coins to be examined, is delivered to them by the officers of the mint. the indenture or authority under which the mint master has acted being read, the pix is opened, and the coins to be assayed being taken out, are inclosed in paper parcels, each under the seals of the wardens, master, and comptrollers. from every lbs. of silver, which are technically called 'journies,' two pieces at the least are taken at hazard for this trial; and each parcel being opened, and the contents being found correct with the indorsement, the coins are mixed together in wooden bowls, and afterwards weighed. from the whole of these moneys so mingled, the jury take a certain number of each species of coin, to the amount of lb. weight, for the assay by fire; and the indented trial pieces of gold and silver, of the dates specified in the indenture, being produced by the proper officer, a sufficient quantity is cut from either of them for the purpose of comparing with it the pound weight of gold or silver by the usual methods of assay. the perfection or imperfection of these are certified by the jury, who deliver their verdict in writing to the lord chancellor, to be deposited amongst the papers of the privy council. if found accurate, the mint master receives his certificate, or, as it is called, _quietus_" (a legal word used by shakespeare in hamlet's great soliloquy). "the assaying of the precious metals, anciently called the 'touch,' with the marking or stamping, and the proving of the coin, at what is called the 'trial of the pix,' were privileges conferred on the goldsmiths' company by the statute edward i. they had for the former purpose an assay office more than years ago, which is mentioned in their books. their still retaining the same privilege makes the part of goldsmiths' hall, where this business is carried on, a busy scene during the hours of assaying. in the old statute all manner of vessels of gold and silver are expected to be of good and true alloy, namely, 'gold of a certain _touch_,' and silver of the sterling alloy; and no vessel is to depart out of the hands of the workman until it is assayed by the workers of the goldsmiths' craft. "the _hall mark_ shows where manufactured, as the leopard's head for london. _duty mark_ is the head of the sovereign, showing the duty is paid. _date mark_ is a letter of the alphabet, which varies every year; thus, the goldsmiths' company have used, from to , roman capital letters; to , small roman letters; to , old english letters; to , roman capital letters, from a to u, omitting j; to small roman letters a to u, omitting j; from , old english letters. there are two qualities of gold and silver. the inferior is mostly in use. the quality marks for silver are britannia, or the head of the reigning monarch; for gold, the lion passant, or , which denotes that fine gold is -carat; only per cent, gold; sometimes rings are marked . the _manufacturer's mark_ is the initials of the maker. "the company are allowed per cent., and the fees for stamping are paid into the inland revenue office. at goldsmiths' hall, in the years to inclusive, there were assayed and marked -carat watch-cases, , -carat, -carat, -carat, -carat, making a total of , cases, weighing , ounces dwts. grains. the goldsmiths' company append a note to this return, stating that they have no knowledge of the value of the cases assayed, except of the intrinsic value, as indicated by the weight and quality of the gold given in the return. the silver watch-cases assayed at the same establishment in the fourteen years, , , , the total weight being , , ounces dwts. in the year the largest number of cases were assayed out of the fourteen. the precise number in that year was , , this being more than , above any year in the period named. in a subsequent year the number was only , . a similar note with regard to value is appended to the return of silver cases as to the gold." there has been a complaint lately that the inferior jewellery is often tampered with after receiving the hall mark. an old book, probably elizabethan, the "touchstone for goldsmith's wares," observes, "that goldsmiths in the city and liberties, as to their particular trade, are under the goldsmiths' company's control, whether members or not, and ought to be of _their own company_, though, from mistake or design, many of them are free of others. for the wardens, being by their charters and the statutes appointed to survey, assay, and mark the silver-work, are to be chosen from members, such choice must sometimes fall upon them that are either of other trades, or not skilled in their curious art of making assays of gold and silver, and consequently unable to make a true report of the goodness thereof; or else the necessary attendance thereon is too great a burden for the wardens. therefore they (the wardens) have appointed an _assay master_, called by them their deputy warden, allowing him a considerable yearly salary, and who takes an oath for the due performance of his office. they have large steel puncheons and marks of different sizes, with the leopard's-head, crowned; the _lion_, and a certain _letter_, which letter they change alphabetically every year, in order to know the year any particular work was assayed or marked, as well as the markers. these marks," he adds, "are every year new made, for the use of fresh wardens; and although the assaying is referred to the assay master, yet the _touch-wardens_ look to the striking of the marks." to acquaint the public the better with this business of the assay, the writer of the "touchstone" has prefixed a frontispiece to his work, intended to represent the interior of an assay office (we should suppose that of the old goldsmiths' hall), and makes reference by numbers to the various objects shown--as, . the refining furnace; . the test, with silver refining in it; . the fining bellows; . the man blowing or working them; . the test-mould; . a wind-hole to melt silver in, with bellows; . a pair of organ bellows; . a man melting, or boiling, or nealing silver at them; . a block, with a large anvil placed thereon; . three men forging plate; . the fining and other goldsmith's tools; . the assay furnace; . the assay master making assays; . this man putting the assays into the fire; . the warden marking the plate on the anvil; . his officer holding his plate for the marks; and . three goldsmiths' small workers at work. in the office are stated to be a sworn weigher to weigh and make entry of all silver-work brought in, and who re-weighs it to the owners when worked, reserving the ancient allowance for so doing, which is grains out of every lb. marked, for a re-assay yearly of all the silver works they have passed the preceding year. there are also, he says, a table, or tables, in columns, one whereof is of hardened lead, and the other of vellum or parchment (the lead columns having the worker's initials struck in them, and the other the owner's names); and the seeing that these marks are right, and plainly impressed on the gold and silver work, is one of the warden's peculiar duties. the manner of marking the assay is thus:--the assay master puts a small quantity of the silver upon trial in the fire, and then, taking it out again, he, with his exact scales _that will turn with the weight of the hundredth_ part of a grain, computes and reports the goodness or badness of the gold and silver. the allowance of four grains to the pound, malcolm states to have been continued till after ; for gold watch-cases, from one to four, one shilling; and all above, threepence each; and in proportion for other articles of the same metal. "the assay office," he adds, "seems, however, to have been a losing concern with the company, their receipts for six years, to , being £ , s. - / d., and the payments, £ , s. d." the ancient goldsmiths seem to have wisely blended pleasure with profit, and to have feasted right royally: one of their dinner bills runs thus:-- expenses of st. dunstan's feast. ( _edward iv._). £ s. d. to eight minstrels in manner accustomed ten bonnets for ditto their dinner two hogsheads of wine one barrel of muscadell red wine, qrts. and galls four barrels of good ale two ditto of dy halfpenny in spice bread in other bread in comfits and spice ( articles) poultry, including capons at d. pigeons at - / d., and more geese, at d. each. with "butchery," "fishmongery," and "miscellaneous articles," the total amount of the feast was £ s. d. a supper bill which occurs in the th of henry viii. only amounts to £ s. d., and it enumerates the following among the provisions:--bread, two bushels of meal, a kilderkin and a firkin of good ale, capons, four dozen of chickens, four dishes of surrey (sotterey) butter, lbs. of suet, six marrow bones, a quarter of a sheep, eggs, six dishes of sweet butter, oranges, gooseberries, strawberries, lbs. of cherries, lbs. oz. of sugar, cinnamon, ginger, cloves, and mace, saffron, rice flour, "raisins, currants," dates, white salt, bay salt, red vinegar, white vinegar, verjuice, the hire of pewter vessels, and various other articles. in city pageants the goldsmiths always held a conspicuous place. the following is an account of their pageant in jovial lord mayor vyner's time (charles ii.):-- "first pageant. a large triumphal chariot of gold, richly set with divers inestimable and various coloured jewels, of dazzling splendour, adorned with sundry curious figures, fictitious stories, and delightful landscapes; one ascent of seats up to a throne, whereon a person of majestic aspect sitteth, the representer of justice, hieroglyphically attired, in a long red robe, and on it a golden mantle fringed with silver; on her head a long dishevelled hair of flaxen colour, curiously curled, on which is a coronet of silver; in her left hand she advanceth a touchstone (the tryer of _truth_ and discoverer of _falsehood_); in her right hand she holdeth up a golden balance, with silver scales, equi-ponderent, to weigh justly and impartially; her arms dependent on the heads of two _leopards_, which emblematically intimate _courage_ and _constancy_. this chariot is drawn by two golden unicorns, in excellent carving work, with equal magnitude, to the left; on whose backs are mounted two raven-black negroes, attired according to the dress of india; on their heads, wreaths of divers coloured feathers; in their right hands they hold golden cups; in their left hands, two displayed banners, the one of the king's, the other of the company's arms, all which represent the crest and the supporters of the ancient, famous, and worshipful company of goldsmiths. "trade pageant. on a very large pageant is a very rich seat of state, containing the representer of the patron to the goldsmiths' company, saint dunstan, attired in a dress properly expressing his prelatical dignity, in a robe of fine white lawn, over which he weareth a cope or vest of costly bright cloth of gold, down to the ground; on his reverend grey head, a golden mitre, set with topaz, ruby, emerald, amethyst, and sapphire. in his left hand he holdeth a golden crozier, and in his right hand he useth a pair of goldsmith's tongs. beneath these steps of ascension to his chair, in opposition to st. dunstan, is properly painted a goldsmith's forge and furnace, with fire and gold in it, a workman blowing with the bellows. on his right and left hand, there is a large press of gold and silver plate, representing a shop of trade; and further in front, are several artificers at work on anvils with hammers, beating out plate fit for the forgery and formation of several vessels in gold and silver. there are likewise in the shop several wedges or ingots of gold and silver, and a step below st. dunstan sitteth an assay-master, with his glass frame and balance, for trial of gold and silver, according to the standard. in another place there is also disgrossing, drawing, and flatting of gold and silver wire. there are also finers melting, smelting, fining, and parting gold and silver, both by fire and water; and in a march before this orfery, are divers miners in canvas breeches, red waistcoats, and red caps, bearing spades, pickaxes, twibills, and crows, for to sink shafts, and make adits. the devil, also, appearing to st. dunstan, is catched by the nose at a proper _qu_, which is given in his speech. when the speech is spoken, the great anvil is set forth, with a silversmith holding on it a plate of massive silver, and three other workmen at work, keeping excellent time in their orderly strokes upon the anvil." the goldsmiths in the middle ages seem to have been fond of dress. in a great procession of the london crafts to meet richard ii.'s fair young queen, anne of bohemia, all the mysteries of the city wore red and black liveries. the goldsmiths had on the red of their dresses bars of silver-work and silver trefoils, and each of the seven score goldsmiths, on the black part, wore fine knots of gold and silk, and on their worshipful heads red hats, powdered with silver trefoils. in edward iv.'s reign, the company's taste changed. the liverymen wore violet and scarlet gowns like the goldsmiths' sworn friends, the fishmongers; while, under henry vii., they wore violet gowns and black hoods. in henry viii.'s reign the hoods of the mutable company went back again to violet and scarlet. in (henry vi.) the london citizens seem to have been rather severe with their apprentices; for we find william hede, a goldsmith, accusing his apprentice of beating his mistress. the apprentice was brought to the kitchen of the goldsmith's hall, and there stripped naked, and beaten by his master till blood came. this punishment was inflicted in the presence of several people. the apprentice then asked his master's forgiveness on his knees. [illustration: exterior of goldsmiths' hall.] the goldsmiths' searches for bad and defective work were arbitrary enough, and made with great formality. "the wardens," say the ordinances, "every quarter, once, or oftener, if need be, shall search in london, southwark, and westminster, that all the goldsmiths there dwelling work true gold and silver, according to the act of parliament, and shall also make due search for their weights." the manner of making this search, as elsewhere detailed, seems to have resembled that of our modern inquest, or annoyance juries; the company's beadle, in full costume and with his insignia of office, marching first; the wardens, in livery, with their hoods; the company's clerk, two renter wardens, two brokers, porters, and other attendants, also dressed, following. their mode of proceeding is given in the following account, entitled "the manner and order for searches at bartholomew fayre and our ladye fayre" (henry viii.):-- "md. the bedell for the time beyng shall walke uppon seynt barthyllmewes eve all alonge chepe, for to see what plaate ys in eury mannys deske and gyrdyll. and so the sayd wardeyns for to goo into lumberd streate, or into other places there, where yt shall please theym. and also the clerk of the fellyshyppe shall wayt uppon the seyd wardeyns for to wryte eury prcell of sylur stuffe then distrayned by the sayd wardeyns. "also the sayd wardeyns been accustomed to goo into barth'u fayre, uppon the evyn or daye, at theyr pleasure, in theyre lyuerey gownes and hoodys, as they will appoint, and two of the livery, ancient men, with them; the renters, the clerk, and the bedell, in their livery, with them; and the brokers to wait upon my masters the wardens, to see every hardware men show, for deceitful things, beads, gawds of beads, and other stuff; and then they to drink when they have done, where they please. "also the said wardens be accustomed at our lady day, the nativity, to walk and see the fair at southwark, in like manner with their company, as is aforesaid, and to search there likewise." another order enjoins the two second wardens "to ride into stourbrydge fair, with what officers they liked, and do the same." amongst other charges against the trade at this date, it is said "that dayly divers straungers and other gentils" complained and found themselves aggrieved, that they came to the shops of goldsmiths within the city of london, and without the city, and to their booths and fairs, markets, and other places, and there bought of them _old plate_ new refreshed in gilding and burnishing; it appearing to all "such straungers and other gentils" that such old plate, so by them bought, was new, sufficient, and able; whereby all such were deceived, to the grete "dys-slaunder and jeopardy of all the seyd crafte of goldsmythis." [illustration: altar of diana (_see page _).] in consequence of these complaints, it was ordained ( henry vii.) by all the said fellowship, that no goldsmith, within or without the city, should thenceforth put to sale such description of plate, in any of the places mentioned, without it had the mark of the "lybardishede crowned." all plate put to sale contrary to these orders the wardens were empowered to break. they also had the power, at their discretion, to fine offenders for this and any other frauds in manufacturing. if any goldsmith attempted to prevent the wardens from breaking bad work, they could seize such work, and declare it forfeited, according to the act of parliament, appropriating the one half (as thereby directed) to the king, and the other to the wardens breaking and making the seizure. the present goldsmiths' hall was the design of philip hardwick, r.a. ( - ), and boasts itself the most magnificent of the city halls. the old hall had been taken down in , and the new hall was built without trenching on the funds set apart for charity. the style is italian, of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. the building is feet in front and feet deep. the west or chief façade has six attached corinthian columns, the whole height of the front supporting a rich corinthian entablature and bold cornice; and the other three fronts are adorned with pilasters, which also terminate the angles. some of the blocks in the column shafts weigh from ten to twelve tons each. the windows of the principal story, the echinus moulding of which is handsome, have bold and enriched pediments, and the centre windows are honoured by massive balustrade balconies. in the centre, above the first floor, are the company's arms, festal emblems, rich garlands, and trophies. the entrance door is a rich specimen of cast work. altogether, though rather jammed up behind the post-office, this building is worthy of the powerful and wealthy company who make it their domicile. the modern renaissance style, it must be allowed, though less picturesque than the gothic, is lighter, more stately, and more adapted for certain purposes. the hall and staircase are much admired, and are not without grandeur. they were in entirely lined with costly marbles of different sorts and colours, and the result is very splendid. the staircase branches right and left, and ascends to a domed gallery. leaving that respectable cerberus dozy but watchful in his bee-hive chair in the vestibule, we ascend the steps. on the square pedestals which ornament the balustrade of the first flight of stairs stand four graceful marble statuettes of the seasons, by nixon. spring is looking at a bird's-nest; summer, wreathed with flowers, leads a lamb; autumn carries sheaves of corn; and winter presses his robe close against the wind. between the double scagliola columns of the gallery are a group of statues; the bust of the sailor king, william iv., by chantrey, is in a niche above. a door on the top of the staircase opens to the livery hall; the room for the court of assistants is on the right of the northernmost corridor. the great banqueting-hall, by feet, and feet high, has a range of corinthian columns on either side. the five lofty, arched windows are filled with the armorial bearings of eminent goldsmiths of past times; and at the north end is a spacious alcove for the display of plate, which is lighted from above. on the side of the room is a large mirror, with busts of george iii. and his worthy son, george iv. between the columns are portraits of queen adelaide, by sir martin archer shee, and william iv. and queen victoria, by the court painter, sir george hayter. the court-room has an elaborate stucco ceiling, with a glass chandelier, which tinkles when the scarlet mail-carts rush off one after another. in this room, beneath glass, is preserved the interesting little altar of diana, found in digging the foundations of the new hall. though greatly corroded, it has been of fine workmanship, and the outlines are full of grace. there are also some pictures of great merit and interest. first among them is janssen's fine portrait of sir hugh myddleton. he is dressed in black, and rests his hand upon a shell. this great benefactor of london left a share in his water-works to the goldsmiths' company, which is now worth more than £ , a year. another portrait is that of sir thomas vyner, that jovial lord mayor, who dragged charles ii. back for a second bottle. a third is a portrait (after holbein) of sir martin bowes, lord mayor in (henry viii.); and there is also a large picture (attributed to giulio romano, the only painter shakespeare mentions in his plays). in the foreground is st. dunstan, in rich robes and crozier in hand, while behind, the saint takes the devil by the nose, much to the approval of flocks of angels above. the great white marble mantelpiece came from canons, the seat of the duke of chandos; and the two large terminal busts are attributed to roubiliac. the sumptuous drawing-room, adorned with crimson satin, white and gold, has immense mirrors, and a stucco ceiling, wrought with fruit, flowers, birds, and animals, with coats of arms blazoned on the four corners. the court dining-room displays on the marble chimney-piece two boys holding a wreath encircling the portrait of richard ii., by whom the goldsmiths were first incorporated. in the livery tea-room is a conversation piece, by hudson (reynolds' master), containing portraits of six lord mayors, all goldsmiths. the company's plate, as one might suppose, is very magnificent, and comprises a chandelier of chased gold, weighing , ounces; two superb old gold plates, having on them the arms of france quartered with those of england; and, last of all, there is the gold cup (attributed to cellini) out of which queen elizabeth is said to have drank at her coronation, and which was bequeathed to the company by sir martin bowes. at the great exhibition of this spirited company awarded £ , to the best artist in gold and silver plate, and at the same time resolved to spend £ , on plate of british manufacture. from the report of the charity commissioners it appears that the goldsmiths' charitable funds, exclusive of gifts by sir martin bowes, amount to £ , per annum. foster lane was in old times chiefly inhabited by working goldsmiths. "dark entry, foster lane," says strype, "gives a passage into st. martin's-le-grand. on the north side of this entry was seated the parish church of st. leonard, foster lane, which being consumed in the fire of london, is not rebuilt, but the parish united to christ church; and the place where it stood is inclosed within a wall, and serveth as a burial-place for the inhabitants of the parish." on the west side of foster lane stood the small parish church of st. leonard's. this church, says stow, was repaired and enlarged about the year . a very fair window at the upper end of the chancel ( ) cost £ . in this church were some curious monumental inscriptions. one of them, to the memory of robert trappis, goldsmith, bearing the date , contained this epitaph:-- "when the bels be merrily rung, and the masse devoutly sung, and the meate merrily eaten, then shall robert trappis, his wife and children be forgotten." on a stone, at the entering into the choir, was inscribed in latin, "under this marble rests the body of humfred barret, son of john barret, gentleman, who died a.d. ." on a fair stone, in the chancel, nameless, was written:-- "live to dye. "all flesh is grass, and needs must fade to earth again, whereof 'twas made." st. vedast, otherwise st. foster, was a french saint, bishop of arras and cambray in the reign of clovis, who, according to the rev. alban butler, performed many miracles on the blind and lame. alaric had a great veneration for this saint. in , some workmen digging a drain discovered, ten or twelve feet below the level of cheapside, and opposite no. , a curious stone coffin, now preserved in a vault, under a small brick grave, on the north side of st. vedast's; whether roman or anglo-saxon, it consists of a block of freestone, seven feet long and fifteen inches thick, hollowed out to receive a body, with a deeper cavity for the head and shoulders. when found, it contained a skeleton, and was covered with a flat stone. several other stone coffins were found at the same time. the interior of st. foster is a melancholy instance of louis quatorze ornamentation. the church is divided by a range of tuscan columns, and the ceiling is enriched with dusty wreaths of stucco flowers and fruit. the altar-piece consists of four corinthian columns, carved in oak, and garnished with cherubim, palm-branches, &c. in the centre, above the entablature, is a group of well-executed winged figures, and beneath is a sculptured pelican. in mr. godwin spoke highly of the transparent blinds of this church, painted with various scriptural subjects, as a substitute for stained glass. "st. vedast church, in foster lane," says maitland, "is on the east side, in the ward of farringdon within, dedicated to st. vedast, bishop of arras, in the province of artois. the first time i find it mentioned in history is, that walter de london was presented thereto in . the patronage of the church was anciently in the prior and convent of canterbury, till the year , when, coming to the archbishop of that see, it has been in him and his successors ever since; and is one of the thirteen peculiars in this city belonging to that archiepiscopal city. this church was not entirely destroyed by the fire in , but nothing left standing but the walls; the crazy steeple continued standing till the year , when it was taken down and beautifully rebuilt at the charge of the united parishes. to this parish that of st. michael quern is united." among the odd monumental inscriptions in this church are the following:-- "lord, of thy infinite grace and pittee have mercy on me agnes, somtym the wyf of william milborne, chamberlain of this citte, which toke my passage fro this wretched lyf, the year of gras one thousand fyf hundryd and fyf, the xii. day of july; no longer was my spase, it plesy'd then my lord to call me to his grase; now ye that are living, and see this picture, pray for me here, whyle ye have tyme and spase, that god of his goodnes wold me assure, in his everlasting mansion to have a plase. obiit anno ." "here lyeth interred the body of christopher wase, late citizen and goldsmith of london, aged yeeres, and dyed the nd september, ; who had to wife anne, the daughter of william prettyman, and had by her three sons and three daughters. "reader, stay, and thou shalt know what he is, that here doth sleepe; lodged amidst the stones below, stones that oft are seen to weepe. gentle was his birth and breed, his carriage gentle, much contenting; his word accorded with his deed, sweete his nature, soone relenting. from above he seem'd protected, father dead before his birth. an orphane only, but neglected. yet his branches spread on earth, earth that must his bones containe, sleeping, till _christ's_ trumpet shall wake them, joyning them to soule againe, and to blisse eternal take them. it is not this rude and little heap of stones, can hold the fame, although't containes the bones; light be the earth, and hallowed for thy sake, resting in peace, peace that thou so oft didst make." coachmakers' hall, noble street, foster lane originally built by the scriveners' company, was afterwards sold to the coachmakers. here the "protestant association" held its meetings, and here originated the dreadful riots of the year . the protestant association was formed in february, , in consequence of a bill brought into the house of commons to repeal certain penalties and liabilities imposed upon roman catholics. when the bill was passed, a petition was framed for its repeal; and here, in this very hall (may , ), the following resolution was proposed and carried:-- "that the whole body of the protestant association do attend in st. george's fields, on friday next, at ten of the clock in the morning, to accompany lord george gordon to the house of commons, on the delivery of the protestant petition." his lordship, who was present on this occasion, remarked that "if less than , of his fellow-citizens attended him on that day, he would not present their petition." upwards of , "true protestants" promptly answered the summons of the association, and the gordon riots commenced, to the six days' terror of the metropolis. chapter xxxi. cheapside tributaries, north:--wood street. wood street--pleasant memories--st. peter's in chepe--st. michael's and st. mary staining--st. alban's, wood street--some quaint epitaphs--wood street compter and the hapless prisoners therein--wood street painful, wood street cheerful--thomas ripley--the anabaptist rising--a remarkable wine cooper--st. john zachary and st. anne-in-the-willows--haberdashers' hall--something about the mercers. wood street runs from cheapside to london wall. stow has two conjectures as to its name--first, that it was so called because the houses in it were built all of wood, contrary to richard i.'s edict that london houses should be built of stone, to prevent fire; secondly, that it was called after one thomas wood, sheriff in (henry vii.), who dwelt in this street, was a benefactor to st. peter in chepe, and built "the beautiful row of houses over against wood street end." at cheapside cross, which stood at the corner of wood street, all royal proclamations used to be read, even long after the cross was removed. thus, in , we find charles ii.'s declaration of war against louis xiv. proclaimed by the officers at arms, serjeants at arms, trumpeters, &c., at whitehall gate, temple bar, the end of chancery lane, wood street, cheapside, and the royal exchange. huggin's lane, in this street, derives its name, as stow tells us, from a london citizen who dwelt here in the reign of edward i., and was called hugan in the lane. that pleasant tree at the left-hand corner of wood street, which has cheered many a weary business man with memories of the fresh green fields far away, was for long the residence of rooks, who built there. in two fresh nests were built, and one is still visible; but the sable birds deserted their noisy town residence several years ago. probably, as the north of london was more built over, and such feeding-grounds as belsize park turned to brick and mortar, the birds found the fatigue of going miles in search of food for their young unbearable, and so migrated. leigh hunt, in one of his agreeable books, remarks that there are few districts in london where you will not find a tree. "a child was shown us," says leigh hunt, "who was said never to have beheld a tree but one in st. paul's churchyard (now gone). whenever a tree was mentioned, it was this one; she had no conception of any other, not even of the remote tree in cheapside." this famous tree marks the site of st. peter in chepe, a church destroyed by the great fire. the terms of the lease of the low houses at the west-end corner are said to forbid the erection of another storey or the removal of the tree. whether this restriction arose from a love of the tree, as we should like to think, we cannot say. st. peter's in chepe is a rectory (says stow), "the church whereof stood at the south-west corner of wood street, in the ward of farringdon within, but of what antiquity i know not, other than that thomas de winton was rector thereof in ." the patronage of this church was anciently in the abbot and convent of st. albans, with whom it continued till the suppression of their monastery, when henry viii., in the year , granted the same to the earl of southampton. it afterwards belonged to the duke of montague. this church being destroyed in the fire and not rebuilt, the parish is united to the church of st. matthew, friday street. "in the year ," says maitland, "licence was granted to the inhabitants of this parish to erect a shed or shop before their church in cheapside. on the site of this building, anciently called the 'long shop,' are now erected four shops, with rooms over them." wordsworth has immortalised wood street by his plaintive little ballad-- the reverie of poor susan. "at the corner of wood street, when daylight appears, hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years; poor susan has passed by the spot, and has heard in the silence of morning the song of the bird. "'tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? she sees a mountain ascending, a vision of trees; bright volumes of vapour through lothbury glide, and a river flows on through the vale of cheapside. "green pastures she views in the midst of the dale, down which she so often has tripped with her pail; and a single small cottage, a nest like a dove's, the one only dwelling on earth that she loves. "she looks, and her heart is in heaven; but they fade, the mist and the river, the hill and the shade; the stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, and the colours have all passed away from her eyes." perhaps some summer morning the poet, passing down cheapside, saw the plane-tree at the corner wave its branches to him as a friend waves a hand, and at that sight there passed through his mind an imagination of some poor cumberland servant-girl toiling in london, and regretting her far-off home among the pleasant hills. st. michael's, wood street, is a rectory situated on the west side of wood street, in the ward of cripplegate within. john de eppewell was rector thereof before the year . "the patronage was anciently in the abbot and convent of st. albans, in whom it continued till the suppression of their monastery, when, coming to the crown, it was, with the appurtenances, in the year , sold by henry viii. to william barwell, who, in the year , conveyed the same to john marsh and others, in trust for the parish, in which it still continues." being destroyed in the great fire, it was rebuilt, in , from the designs of sir christopher wren. at the east end four ionic pillars support an entablature and pediment, and the three circular-headed windows are well proportioned. the south side faces huggin lane, but the tower and spire are of no interest. the interior of the church is a large parallelogram, with an ornamented carved ceiling. in the church was repaired and the tower thrown open. the altar-piece represents moses and aaron. the vestry-books date from the beginning of the sixteenth century, and contain, among others, memoranda of parochial rejoicings, such as--" . nov. . paid for ringing and a bonfire, s." the church of st. mary staining being destroyed in the great fire, the parish was annexed to that of st. michael's. the following is the most curious of the monumental inscriptions:-- "john casey, of this parish, whose dwelling was in the north-corner house as to lad lane you pass; for better knowledge, the name it hath now is called and known by the name of the plow; out of that house yearly did geeve twenty shillings to the poore, their neede to releeve; which money the tenant must yearlie pay to the parish and churchwardens on st. thomas' day. the heire of that house, thomas bowrman by name, hath since, by his deed, confirmed the same; whose love to the poore doth hereby appear, and after his death shall live many a yeare. therefore in your life do good while yee may, that when meagre death shall take yee away; you may live like form'd as casey and bowrman-- for he that doth well shall never be a poore man." here was also a monument to queen elizabeth, with this inscription, found in many other london churches:-- "here lyes her type, who was of late the prop of belgia, stay of france, spaine's foile, faith's shield, and queen of state, of arms, of learning, fate and chance. in brief, of women ne'er was seen so great a prince, so good a queen. "sith vertue her immortal made, death, envying all that cannot dye, her earthly parts did so invade as in it wrackt self-majesty. but so her spirits inspired her parts, that she still lives in loyal hearts." there was buried here (but without any outward monument) the head of james, the fourth king of scots, slain at flodden field. after the battle, the body of the said king being found, was closed in lead, and conveyed from thence to london, and so to the monastery of shene, in surrey, where it remained for a time. "but since the dissolution of that house," says stow, "in the reign of edward vi., henry gray, duke of suffolk, lodged and kept house there. i have been shown the said body, so lapped in lead. the head and body were thrown into a waste room, amongst the old timber, lead, and other rubble; since which time workmen there, for their foolish pleasure, hewed off his head; and launcelot young, master glazier to queen elizabeth, feeling a sweet savour to come from thence, and seeing the same dried from moisture, and yet the form remaining with the hair of the head and beard red, brought it to london, to his house in wood street, where for a time he kept it for the sweetness, but in the end caused the sexton of that church to bury it amongst other bones taken out of their charnel." "the parish church of st. michael, in wood street, is a proper thing," says strype, "and lately well repaired; john iue, parson of this church, john forster, goldsmith, and peter fikelden, taylor, gave two messuages and shops, in the same parish and street, and in ladle lane, to the reparation of the church, the th of richard ii. in the year the parishioners made a new door to this church into wood street, where till then it had only one door, standing in huggin lane." st. mary staining, in wood street, destroyed by the great fire, stood on the north side of oat lane, in the ward of aldersgate within. "the additional epithet of _staining_," says maitland, "is as uncertain as the time of the foundation; some imagining it to be derived from the painters' stainers, who probably lived near it; and others from its being built with stone, to distinguish it from those in the city that were built with wood. the advowson of the rectory anciently belonged to the prioress and convent of clerkenwell, in whom it continued till their suppression by henry viii., when it came to the crown. the parish, as previously observed, is now united to st. michael's, wood street. that this church is not of a modern foundation, is manifest from john de lukenore's being rector thereof before the year ." st. alban's, wood street, in the time of paul, the fourteenth abbot of st. alban's, belonged to the verulam monastery, but in the abbot exchanged the right of presentation to this church for the patronage of one belonging to the abbot of westminster. matthew paris says that this wood street church was the chapel of king offa, the founder of st. alban's abbey, who had a palace near it. stow says it was of great antiquity, and that roman bricks were visible here and there among the stones. maitland thinks it probable that it was one of the first churches built by alfred in london after he had driven out the danes. the right of presentation to the church was originally possessed by the master, brethren, and sisters of st. james's leper hospital (site of st. james's palace), and after the death of henry vi. it was vested in the provost and fellows of eton college. in the reign of charles ii. the parish was united to that of st. olave, silver street, and the right of presentation is now exercised alternately by eton college and the dean and chapter of st. paul's. the style of the interior of the church is late pointed. the windows appear older than the rest of the building. the ceiling in the nave exhibits bold groining, and the general effect is not unpleasing. [illustration: wood street compter. _from a view published in ._ (_see page ._)] "one note of the great antiquity of this church," says seymour, "is the name, by which it was first dedicated to st. alban, the first martyr of england. another character of the antiquity of it is to be seen in the manner of the turning of the arches to the windows, and the heads of the pillars. a third note appears in the roman bricks, here and there inlaid amongst the stones of the building. very probable it is that this church is, at least, of as ancient a standing as king adelstane, the saxon, who, as tradition says, had his house at the east end of this church. this king's house, having a door also into adel street, in this parish, gave name, as 'tis thought, to the said adel street, which, in all evidences, to this day is written king adel street. one great square tower of this king's house seemed, in stow's time, to be then remaining, and to be seen at the north corner of love lane, as you come from aldermanbury, which tower was of the very same stone and manner of building with st. alban's church." about the commencement of the seventeenth century st. alban's, being in a state of great decay, was surveyed by sir henry spiller and inigo jones, and in accordance with their advice, apparently, in it was pulled down, and rebuilt _anno_ ; but, perishing in the flames of , it was re-erected as it now appears, and finished in the year , from wren's design. [illustration: the tree at the corner of wood street.] in the old church were the following epitaphs:-- "of william wilson, joane his wife, and alice, their daughter deare, these lines were left to give report these three lye buried here; and alice was henry decon's wife, which henry lives on earth, and is the serjeant plummer to queen elizabeth. with whom this alice left issue here, his virtuous daughter joan, to be his comfort everywhere now joyfull alice is gone. and for these three departed soules, gone up to joyfull blisse, th' almighty praise be given to god, to whom the glory is." over the grave of anne, the wife of laurence gibson, gentleman, were the following verses, which are worth mentioning here:-- "mentis vis magna. "what! is she dead? doth he survive? no; both are dead, and both alive. she lives, hee's dead, by love, though grieving, in him, for her, yet dead, yet living; both dead and living, then what is gone? one half of both, not any one. one mind, one faith, one hope, one grave, in life, in death, they had and still they have." the pulpit (says seymour) is finely carved with an enrichment, in imitation of fruit and leaves; and the sound-board is a hexagon, having round it a fine cornice, adorned with cherubims and other embellishments, and the inside is neatly finniered. the altar-piece is very ornamental, consisting of four columns, fluted with their bases, pedestals, entablature, and open pediment of the corinthian order; and over each column, upon acroters, is a lamp with a gilded taper. between the inner columns are the ten commandments, done in gold letters upon black. between the two, northward, is the lord's prayer, and the two southward the creed, done in gold upon blue. over the commandments is a glory between two cherubims, and above the cornice the king's arms, with the supporters, helmet, and crest, richly carved, under a triangular pediment; and on the north and south side of the above described ornaments are two large cartouches, all of which parts are carved in fine wainscot. the church is well paved with oak, and here are two large brass branches and a marble font, having enrichments of cherubims, &c. in a curious brass frame, attached to a tall stem, opposite the pulpit is an hour-glass, by which the preacher could measure his sermon and test his listeners' patience. the hour-glass at st. dunstan's, fleet street, was taken down in , and two heads for the parish staves made out of the silver. wood street compter (says cunningham) was first established in , when, on the feast of st. michael the archangel in that year, the prisoners were removed from the old compter in bread street to the new compter in wood street, cheapside. this compter was burnt down in the great fire, but was rebuilt in . it stood on the east side of the street, and was removed to giltspur street in . there were two compters in london--the compter in wood street, under the control of one of the sheriffs, and the compter in the poultry, under the superintendence of the other. under each sheriff was a secondary, a clerk of the papers, four clerk sitters, eighteen serjeants-at-mace (each serjeant having his yeomen), a master keeper, and two turnkeys. the serjeants wore blue and coloured cloth gowns, and the words of arrest were, "sir, we arrest you in the king's majesty's name, and we charge you to obey us." there were three sides--the master's side, the dearest of all; the knights' ward, a little cheaper; and the hole, the cheapest of all. the register of entries was called the black book. garnish was demanded at every step, and the wood street compter was hung with the story of the prodigal son. when the wood street counter gate was opened, the prisoner's name was enrolled in the black book, and he was asked if he was for the master's side, the knight's ward, or the hole. at every fresh door a fee was demanded, the stranger's hat or cloak being detained if he refused to pay the extortion, which, in prison language, was called "garnish." the first question to a new prisoner was, whether he was in by arrest or command; and there was generally some knavish attorney in a threadbare black suit, who, for forty shillings, would offer to move for a habeas corpus, and have him out presently, much to the amusement of the villanous-looking men who filled the room, some smoking and some drinking. at dinner a vintner's boy, who was in waiting, filled a bowl full of claret, and compelled the new prisoner to drink to all the society; and the turnkeys, who were dining in another room, then demanded another tester for a quart of wine to quaff to the new comer's health. at the end of a week, when the prisoner's purse grew thin, he was generally compelled to pass over to the knight's side, and live in a humbler and more restricted manner. here a fresh garnish of eighteen pence was demanded, and if this was refused, he was compelled to sleep over the drain; or, if he chose, to sit up, to drink and smoke in the cellar with vile companions till the keepers ordered every man to his bed. fennor, an actor in (james i.), wrote a curious pamphlet on the abuses of this compter. "for what extreme extortion," says the angry writer, "is it when a gentleman is brought in by the watch for some misdemeanour committed, that he must pay at least an angell before he be discharged; hee must pay twelvepence for turning the key at the master-side dore two shillings to the chamberleine, twelvepence for his garnish for wine, tenpence for his dinner, whether he stay or no, and when he comes to be discharged at the booke, it will cost at least three shillings and sixpence more, besides sixpence for the booke-keeper's paines, and sixpence for the porter.... and if a gentleman stay there but one night, he must pay for his garnish sixteene pence, besides a groate for his lodging, and so much for his sheetes ... when a gentleman is upon his discharge, and hath given satisfaction for his executions, they must have fees for irons, three halfepence in the pound, besides the other fees, so that if a man were in for a thousand or fifteene hundred pound execution, they will if a man is so madde have so many three halfepence. "this little hole is as a little citty in a commonwealth, for as in a citty there are all kinds of officers, trades, and vocations, so there is in this place, as we may make a pretty resemblance between them. in steede of a lord maior, we have a master steward to over-see and correct all misdemeanours as shall arise.... and lastly, as in a citty there is all kinds of trades, so is there heere, for heere you shall see a cobler sitting mending olde showes, and singing as merrily as if hee were under a stall abroad; not farre from him you shall see a taylor sit crosse-legged (like a witch) on his cushion, theatning the ruine of our fellow prisoner, the Ægyptian vermine; in another place you may behold a saddler empannelling all his wits together how to patch this scotchpadde handsomely, or mend the old gentlewoman's crooper that was almost burst in pieces. you may have a phisition here, that for a bottle of sack will undertake to give you as good a medicine for melancholly as any doctor will for five pounds. besides, if you desire to bee remouved before a judge, you shall have a tinker-like attorney not farre distant from you, that in stopping up one hole in a broken cause, will make twenty before hee hath made an end, and at last will leave you in prison as bare of money as he himself is of honesty. heere is your cholericke cooke that will dresse our meate, when wee can get any, as well as any greasie scullion in fleet lane or pye corner." at , silver street, wood street, is the hall of one of the smaller city companies--the parish clerks of london, westminster, borough of southwark, and fifteen out parishes, with their master wardens and fellows. this company was incorporated as early as henry iii.( ), by the name of the fraternity of st. nicholas, an ominous name, for "st. nicholas's clerk" was a jocose _nom de guerre_ for highwaymen. the first hall of the fraternity stood in bishopsgate street, the second in broad lane, in vintry ward. the fraternity was re-incorporated by james i. in , and confirmed by charles i. in . the hall contains a few portraits, and in a painted glass window, david playing on the harp, st. cecilia at the organ, &c. the parish clerks were the actors in the old miracle plays, the parish clerks of our churches dating only from the commencement of the reformation. the "bills of mortality" were commenced by the parish clerks' company in , who about were licensed by the star chamber to keep a printing-press in their hall for printing the bills, valuable for their warning of the existence or progress of the plague. the "weekly bill" of the parish clerks has, however, been superseded by the "tables of mortality in the metropolis," issued weekly from the registrar-general's office, at somerset house, since july st, . the parish clerks' company neither confer the freedom of the city, nor the hereditary freedom. there is a large gold refinery in wood street, through whose doors three tons of gold a day have been known to pass. australian gold is here cast into ingots, value £ each. this gold is one carat and three quarters above the standard, and when the first two bars of australian gold were sent to the bank of england they were sent back, as their wonderful purity excited suspicion. for refining, the gold is boiled fifteen minutes, poured off into hand moulds pounds troy weight, strewn with ivory black, and then left to cool. you see here the stalwart men wedging apart great bars of silver for the melting pots. the silver is purified in a blast-furnace, and mixed with nitric acid in platinum crucibles, that cost from £ to £ , apiece. the bars of gold are stamped with a trade-mark, and pieces are cut off each ingot to be sent to the assayer for his report. "i read in divers records," says stow, "of a house in wood street then called 'black hall;' but no man at this day can tell thereof. in the time of king richard ii., sir henry percy, the son and heir of henry percy, earl of northumberland, had a house in 'wodstreate,' in london (whether this black hall or no, it is hard to trace), wherein he treated king richard, the duke of lancaster, the duke of york, the earl marshal, and his father, the earl of northumberland, with others, at supper." the "rose," in wood street, was a sponging-house, well known to the rakehells and spendthrifts of charles ii.'s time. "i have been too lately under their (the bailiffs') clutches," says tom brown, "to desire any more dealings with them, and i cannot come within a furlong of the 'rose' sponging-house without five or six yellow-boys in my pocket to cast out those devils there, who would otherwise infallibly take possession of me." the "mitre," an old tavern in wood street, was kept in charles ii.'s time by william proctor, who died insolvent in . " th sept., ," pepys says, "to the 'miter taverne,' in wood street (a house of the greatest note in london). here some of us fell to handycap, a sport that i never knew before." and again, " st july, . proctor, the vintner, of the 'miter,' in wood street, and his son, are dead this morning of the plague; he having laid out abundance of money there, and was the greatest vintner for some time in london for great entertainments." in early life thomas ripley, afterwards a celebrated architect, kept a carpenter's shop and coffee house in wood street. marrying a servant of sir robert walpole, the prime minister of george i., this lucky pushing man soon obtained work from the crown and a seat at the board of works, and supplanted that great genius who built st. paul's, to the infinite disgrace of the age. ripley built the admiralty, and houghton hall, norfolk, for his early patron, walpole, and died rich in . wood street is associated with that last extraordinary outburst of the civil war fanaticism--the anabaptist rising in january, . [illustration: pulpit hour-glass (_see page _).] on sunday, january , , we read in "somers' tracts," "these monsters assembled at their meeting-house, in coleman street, where they armed themselves, and sallying thence, came to st. paul's in the dusk of the evening, and there, after ordering their small party, placed sentinels, one of whom killed a person accidentally passing by, because he said he was for god and king charles when challenged by him. this giving the alarm, and some parties of trained bands charging them, and being repulsed, they marched to bishopsgate, thence to cripplegate and aldersgate, where, going out, in spite of the constables and watch, they declared for king jesus. proceeding to beech lane, they killed a headborough, who would have opposed them. it was observed that all they shot, though never so slightly wounded, died. then they hasted away to cane wood, where they lurked, resolved to make another effort upon the city, but were drove thence, and routed by a party of horse and foot, sent for that purpose, about thirty being taken and brought before general monk, who committed them to the gate house. "nevertheless, the others who had escaped out of the wood returned to london, not doubting of success in their enterprise; venner, a wine-cooper by trade, and their head, affirming, he was assured that no weapons employed against them would prosper, nor a hair of their head be touched; which their coming off at first so well made them willing to believe. these fellows had taken the opportunity of the king's being gone to portsmouth, having before made a disposition for drawing to them of other desperate rebels, by publishing a declaration called, 'a door of hope opened,' full of abominable slanders against the whole royal family. "on wednesday morning, january , after the watches and guards were dismissed, they resumed their first enterprise. the first appearance was in threadneedle street, where they alarmed the trained bands upon duty that day, and drove back a party sent after them, to their main guard, which then marched in a body towards them. the fifth monarchists retired into bishopsgate street, where some of them took into an ale-house, known by the sign of 'the helmet,' where, after a sharp dispute, two were killed, and as many taken, the same number of the trained bands being killed and wounded. the next sight of them (for they vanished and appeared again on a sudden), was at college hill, which way they went into cheapside, and so into wood street, venner leading them, with a morrion on his head and a halbert in his hand. here was the main and hottest action, for they fought stoutly with the trained bands, and received a charge from the life guards, whom they obliged to give way, until, being overpowered, and venner knocked down and wounded and shot, tufney and crag, two others of their chief teachers, being killed by him, they began to give ground, and soon after dispersed, flying outright and taking several ways. the greatest part of them went down wood street to cripplegate, firing in the rear at the yellow trained bands, then in close pursuit of them. ten of them took into the 'blue anchor' ale-house, near the postern, which house they maintained until lieutenant-colonel cox, with his company, secured all the avenues to it. in the meantime, some of the aforesaid yellow trained bands got upon the tiles of the next house, which they threw off, and fired in upon the rebels who were in the upper room, and even then refused quarter. at the same time, another file of musketeers got up the stairs, and having shot down the door, entered upon them. six of them were killed before, another wounded, and one, refusing quarter, was knocked down, and afterwards shot. the others being asked why they had not begged quarter before, answered they durst not, for fear their own fellows should shoot them." the upshot of this insane revolt of a handful of men was that twenty-two king's men were killed, and twenty-two of the fanatics, proving the fighting to have been hard. twenty were taken, and nine or ten hung, drawn, and quartered. venner, the leader, who was wounded severely, and some others, were drawn on sledges, their quarters were set on the four gates, and their heads stuck on poles on london bridge. two more were hung at the west end of st. paul's, two at the royal exchange, two at the bull and mouth, two in beech lane, one at bishopsgate, and another, captured later, was hung at tyburn, and his head set on a pole in whitechapel. the texts these fifth monarchy men chiefly relied on were these:--"he shall use his people, in his hand as his battle-axe and weapon of war, for the bringing in the kingdoms of this world into subjection to him." a few scriptures (and but a few) as to this, isa. xli. th verse; but more especially the th and th verses. the prophet, speaking of jacob, saith: "behold, i will make thee a new sharp threshing instrument, having teeth; thou shalt thresh the mountains, and beat them small, and shalt make the hills as chaff; thou shalt fan them, and the wind shall carry them away," &c. "maiden lane," says stow, "formerly engine lane, is a good, handsome, well-built, and inhabited street. the east end falleth into wood street. at the north-east corner, over against goldsmiths' hall, stood the parish church of st. john zachary, which since the dreadful fire is not rebuilt, but the parish united unto st. ann's, aldersgate, the ground on which it stood, enclosed within a wall, serving as a burial-place for the parish." the old goldsmiths' church of st. john zachary, maiden lane, destroyed in the great fire, and not rebuilt, stood at the north-west corner of maiden lane, in the ward of aldersgate; the parish is annexed to that of st. anne. among other epitaphs in this church, stow gives the following:-- "here lieth the body of john sutton, citizen, goldsmith, and alderman of london; who died th july, . this brave and worthy alderman was killed in the defence of the city, in the bloody nocturnal battle on london bridge, against the infamous jack cade, and his army of kentish rebels." "here lieth william brekespere, of london, some time merchant, goldsmith and alderman, the commonwele attendant, with margaryt his dawter, late wyff of suttoon, and thomas, hur sonn, yet livyn undyr goddy's tuitioon. the tenth of july he made his transmigration. she disissyd in the yer of grase of chryst's incarnation, a thowsand four hundryd threescor and oon. god assoyl their sowls whose bodys lye undyr this stoon." this church was rated to pay a certain annual sum to the canons of st. paul's, about the year , at which time it was denominated st. john baptist's, as appears from a grant thereof from the dean and chapter of st. paul's to one zachary, whose name it probably received to distinguish it from one of the same name in walbrook. st. anne in the willows was a church destroyed by the great fire, rebuilt by wren, and united to the parish of st. john zachary. "it is so called," says stow, "some say of willows growing thereabouts; but now there is no such void place for willows to grow, more than the churchyard, wherein grow some high ash-trees." "this church, standing," says strype, "in the churchyard, is planted before with lime-trees that flourish there. so that as it was formerly called st. anne-in-the-willows, it may now be called st. anne-in-the-limes." st. anne can be traced back as far as . the patronage was anciently in the dean and canons of st. martin's-le-grand, in whose gift it continued till henry vii. annexed that collegiate church, with its appendages, to the abbey of westminster. in queen mary gave it to the bishop of london and his successors. one of the monuments here bears the following inscription:-- "peter heiwood, younger son of peter heiwood, one of the counsellors of jamaica, by grace, daughter of sir john muddeford, kt. and bart., great-grandson to peter heiwood, of heywood, in county palatine of lancaster, who apprehended guy faux with his dark lanthorn, and for his zealous prosecution of papists, as justice of the peace, was stabbed in westminster hall by john james, a dominican friar, an. dom. . obiit, novr. , . "reader, if not a papist bred, upon such ashes gently tred." the site of haberdashers' hall, in maiden lane, opposite goldsmiths' hall, was bequeathed to the company by william baker, a london haberdasher, in (edward iv.). in the old hall, destroyed by the great fire, the parliament commissioners held their meetings during the commonwealth, and many a stern decree of confiscation was there grimly signed. in this hall there are some good portraits. the haberdashers' company have many livings and exhibitions in their gift; and almhouses at hoxton, monmouth, newland (gloucestershire), and newport (shropshire); schools in bunhill row, monmouth, and newport; and they lend sums of £ or £ to struggling young men of their own trade. [illustration: interior of st. michael's, wood street (_see page _).] the haberdashers were originally a branch of the mercers, dealing like them in merceries or small wares. lydgate, in his ballad, describes the mercers' and haberdashers' stalls as side by side in the mercery in chepe. in the reign of henry vi., when first incorporated, they divided into two fraternities, st. catherine and st. nicholas. the one being hurrers, cappers, or haberdashers of hats; the other, haberdashers of ribands, laces, and small wares only. the latter were also called milliners, from their selling such merchandise as brooches, agglets, spurs, capes, glasses, and pins. "in the early part of elizabeth's reign," says herbert, "upwards of £ , annually was paid to foreign merchants for pins alone, but before her death pins were made in england, and in the reign of james i. the pinmakers obtained a charter." in the reign of henry vii. the two societies united. queen elizabeth granted them their arms: barry nebule of six, argent and azure on a bend gules, a lion passant gardant; crest or, a helmet and torse, two arms supporting a laurel proper and issuing out of a cloud argent. supporters, two indian goats argent, attired and hoofed or; motto, "serve and obey." maitland describes their annual expenditure in charity as £ , . the number of the company consists of one master, four wardens, forty-five assistants, livery, and a large company of freemen. this company is the eighth in order of the chief twelve city companies. [illustration: interior of haberdashers' hall.] in the reign of edward vi. there were not more than a dozen milliner's shops in all london, but in the dealers in foreign luxuries had so increased as to alarm the frugal and the philosophic. these dealers sold french and spanish gloves, french cloth and frieze, flemish kersies, daggers, swords, knives, spanish girdles, painted cruises, dials, tablets, cards, balls, glasses, fine earthen pots, salt-cellars, spoons, tin dishes, puppets, pennons, inkhorns, toothpicks, fans, pomanders, silk, and silver buttons. the haberdashers were incorporated by a charter of queen elizabeth in . the court books extend to the time of charles i. only. their charters exist in good preservation. in their chronicles we have only a few points to notice. in they sent two of their members to attend the coronation of elizabeth, queen of edward iv., and they also were represented at the coronation of the detestable richard iii. like the other companies, the haberdashers were much oppressed during the time of charles i. and the commonwealth, during which they lost nearly £ , . the company's original bye-laws having been burnt in the great fire, a new code was drawn up, which in was sanctioned by lord chancellor finch, sir matthew hale, and sir francis north. the dining-hall is a lofty and spacious room. about ten years since it was much injured by fire, but has been since restored and handsomely decorated. over the screen at the lower end is a music gallery, and the hall is lighted from above by six sun-burners. among the portraits in the edifice are whole lengths of william adams, esq., founder of the grammar school and almshouses at newport, in shropshire; jerome knapp, esq., a former master of the company; and micajah perry, esq., lord mayor in ; a half-length of george whitmore, esq., lord mayor in ; sir hugh hammersley, knight, lord mayor in ; mr. thomas aldersey, merchant, of banbury, in cheshire, who, in , vested a considerable estate in this company for charitable uses; mr. william jones, merchant adventurer, who bequeathed £ , for benevolent purposes; and robert aske, the worthy founder of the haberdashers' hospital at hoxton. gresham street, that intersects wood street, was formerly called lad or ladle lane, and part of it maiden lane, from a shop sign of the virgin. it is written lad lane in a chronicle of edward iv.'s time, published by sir harris nicolas, page . the "swan with two necks," in lad lane, was for a century and more, till railways ruined stage and mail coach travelling, the booking office and head-quarters of coaches to the north. love lane was so named from the wantons who once infested it. the cross keys inn derived its name from the bygone church of st. peter before mentioned. as there are traditions of saxon kings once dwelling in foster lane, so in gutter lane we find traditions of some danish celebrities. "gutter lane," says stow, that patriarch of london topography, "was so called by guthurun, some time owner thereof." in a manuscript chronicle of london, written in the reign of edward iv., and edited by sir n.h. nicolas, it is called "goster lane." brewers' hall, no. , addle street, wood street, cheapside, is a modern edifice, and contains, among other pictures, a portrait of dame alice owen, who narrowly escaped death from an archer's stray arrow while walking in islington fields, in gratitude for which she founded an hospital. in the hall window is some old painted glass. the brewers were incorporated in . the quarterage in this company is paid on the quantity of malt consumed by its members. in a handsome schoolhouse was built for the company, in trinity square, tower hill. in whittington laid an information before his successor in the mayoralty, robert childe, against the brewers' company, for selling _dear ale_, when they were convicted in the penalty of £ ; and the masters were ordered to be kept in prison in the chamberlain's custody until they paid it. chapter xxxii. cheapside tributaries, north (_continued_). milk street--sir thomas more--the city of london school--st. mary magdalen--honey lane--all hallows' church--lawrence lane and st. lawrence church--ironmonger lane and mercers' hall--the mercers' company--early life assurance companies--the mercers' company in trouble--mercers' chapel--st. thomas acon--the mercers' school--restoration of the carvings in mercers' hall--the glories of the mercers' company--ironmonger lane. in milk street was the milk-market of mediæval london. that good and wise man, sir thomas more, was born in this street. "the brightest man," says fuller, with his usual quaint playfulness, "that ever shone in that _via lactea_." more, born in , was the son of a judge of the king's bench, and was educated at st. anthony's school, in threadneedle street. he was afterwards placed in the family of archbishop morton, till he went to oxford. after two years he became a barrister, at lincoln, entered parliament, and opposed henry vii. to his own danger. after serving as law reader at new inn, he soon became an eminent lawyer. he then wrote his "utopia," acquired the friendship of erasmus, and soon after became a favourite of henry viii., helping the despot in his treatise against luther. on wolsey's disgrace, more became chancellor, and one of the wisest and most impartial england has ever known. determined not to sanction the king's divorce, more resigned his chancellorship, and, refusing to attend anne boleyn's coronation, he was attainted for treason. the tyrant, now furious, soon hurried him to the scaffold, and he was executed on tower hill in . this pious, wise, and consistent man is described as having dark chestnut hair, thin beard, and grey eyes. he walked with his right shoulder raised, and was negligent in his dress. when in the tower, more is said to have foreseen the fate of anne boleyn, whom his daughter margaret had found filling the court with dancing and sporting. "alas, meg," said the ex-chancellor, "it pitieth me to remember to what misery poor soul she will shortly come. these dances of hers will prove such dances that she will sport our heads off like foot-balls; but it will not be long ere her head will dance the like dance." it is to be lamented that with all his wisdom, more was a bigot. he burnt one frith for denying the corporeal presence; had james bainton, a gentleman of the temple, whipped in his presence for heretical opinons; went to the tower to see him on the rack, and then hurried him to smithfield. "verily," said luther, "he was a very notable tyrant, and plagued and tormented innocent christians like an executioner." the city of london school, milk street, was established in , for the sons of respectable persons engaged in professional, commercial, or trading pursuits; and partly founded on an income of £ a year, derived from certain tenements bequeathed by john carpenter, town-clerk of london, in the reign of henry v., "for the finding and bringing up of four poor men's children, with meat, drink, apparel, learning at the schools, in the universities, &c., until they be preferred, and then others in their places for ever." this was the same john carpenter who "caused, with great expense, to be curiously painted upon a board, about the north cloister of paul's, a monument of death, leading all estates, with the speeches of death, and answers of every state." the school year is divided into three terms--easter to july; august to christmas; january to easter; and the charge for each pupil is £ s. a term. the printed form of application for admission may be had of the secretary, and must be filled up by the parent or guardian, and signed by a member of the corporation of london. the general course of instruction includes the english, french, german, latin, and greek languages, writing, arithmetic, mathematics, book-keeping, geography, and history. besides eight free scholarships on the foundation, equivalent to £ per annum each, and available as exhibitions to the universities, there are the following exhibitions belonging to the school:--the "times" scholarship, value £ per annum; three beaufoy scholarships, the solomons scholarship, and the travers scholarship, £ per annum each; the tegg scholarship, nearly £ per annum; and several other valuable prizes. the first stone of the school was laid by lord brougham, october st, . the architect of the building was mr. j.b. bunning, of guildford street, russell square, and the entire cost, including fittings and furniture, as nearly £ , . it is about feet wide in front, next milk street, and is about feet long; it contains eleven class-rooms of various dimensions, a spacious theatre for lectures, &c, a library, committee-room, with a commodious residence in the front for the head master and his family. the lectures, founded by sir thomas gresham, on divinity, astronomy, music, geometry, law, physics, and rhetoric, which upon the demolition of gresham college had been delivered at the royal exchange from the year , were after the destruction of that building by fire, in january, , read in the theatre of the city of london school until ; they were delivered each day during the four law terms, and the public in general were entitled to free admission. in milk street stood the small parish church of st. mary magdalen, destroyed in the great fire. it was repaired and beautified at the charge of the parish in . all the chancel window was built at the proper cost of mr. benjamin henshaw, merchant taylor, and one of the city captains. this church was burnt down in the great fire, and was not rebuilt. one amusing epitaph has been preserved:-- "here lieth the body of sir william stone, knt. "as the earth the earth doth cover, so under this stone lyes another; sir william _stone_, who long deceased, ere the world's love him released; so much it loved him, for they say, he answered death before his day; but, 'tis not so; for he was sought of one that both him made and bought. he remain'd the great lord's treasurer, who called for him at his pleasure, and received him. yet be it said, earth grieved that heaven so soon was paid. "here likewise lyes inhumed in one bed, dear barbara, the well-beloved wife of this remembered knight; whose souls are fled from this dimure vale to everlasting life, where no more change, nor no more separation, shall make them flye from their blest habitation. grasse of levitie, span in brevity, flower's felicity, fire of misery, wind's stability, is mortality." "honey lane," says good old stow, "is so called not of sweetness thereof, being very narrow and small and dark, but rather of often washing and sweeping to keep it clean." with all due respect to stow, we suspect that the lane did not derive its name from any superlative cleanliness, but more probably from honey being sold here in the times before sugar became common and honey alone was used by cooks for sweetening. on the site of all hallows' church, destroyed in the great fire, a market was afterwards established. "there be no monuments," says stow, "in this church worth the noting; i find that john norman, maior, , was buried there. he gave to the drapers his tenements on the north side of the said church; they to allow for the beam light and lamp s. d. yearly, from this lane to the standard. "this church hath the misfortune to have no bequests to church or poor, nor to any publick use. "there was a parsonage house before the great fire, but now the ground on which it stood is swallowed up by the market. the parish of st. mary-le-bow (to which it is united) hath received all the money paid for the site of the ground of the said parsonage." all hallows' church was repaired and beautified at the cost of the parishioners in . lawrence lane derives its name from the church of st. lawrence, at its north end. "antiquities," says stow, "in this lane i find none other than among many fair houses. there is one large inn for receipt of travellers, called 'blossoms inn,' but corruptly 'bosoms inn,' and hath for a sign 'st. lawrence, the deacon,' in a border of blossoms or flowers." this was one of the great city inns set apart for charles v.'s suite, when he came over to visit henry viii. in . at the sign of "st. lawrence bosoms" twenty beds and stabling for sixty horses were ordered. the curious old tract about bankes and his trained horse was written under the assumed names of "john dando, the wier-drawer of hadley, and harrie runt, head ostler of besomes inne," which is probably the same place. st. lawrence church is situate on the north side of cateaton street, "and is denominated," says maitland, "from its dedication to lawrence, a spanish saint, born at huesca, in the kingdom of arragon; who, after having undergone the most grievous tortures, in the persecution under valerian, the emperor, was cruelly broiled alive upon a gridiron, with a slow fire, till he died, for his strict adherence to christianity; and the additional epithet of jewry, from its situation among the jews, was conferred upon it, to distinguish it from the church of st. lawrence pulteney, now demolished. "this church, which was anciently a rectory, being given by hugo de wickenbroke to baliol college in oxford, anno , the rectory ceased; wherefore richard, bishop of london, converted the same into a vicarage; the advowson whereof still continues in the same college. this church sharing the common fate in , it has since been beautifully rebuilt, and the parish of st. mary magdalen, milk street, thereunto annexed." the famous sir richard gresham lies buried here, with the following inscription on his tomb:-- "here lyeth the great sir richard gresham, knight, some time lord maior of london; and audrey, his first wife, by whom he had issue, sir john gresham and sir thomas gresham, knights, william and margaret; which sir richard deceased the th day of february, an. domini , and the third yeere of king edward the sixth his reigne, and audrey deceased the th day of december, an. dom. ." there is also this epitaph:-- "lo here the lady margaret north, in tombe and earth do lye; of husbands four the faithfull spouse, whose fame shall never dye. one andrew franncis was the first, the second robert hight, surnamed chartsey, alderman; sir david brooke, a knight, was third. but he that passed all, and was in number fourth, and for his virtue made a lord, was called sir edward north. these altogether do i wish a joyful rising day; that of the lord and of his christ, all honour they may say. obiit die junii, an. dom. ." in ironmonger lane, inhabited by ironmongers _temp._ edward i., is mercers' hall, an interesting building. the mercers, though not formally incorporated till the th of richard ii. ( ), are traced back by herbert as early as . soon afterwards they are mentioned as patrons of one of the great london charities. in , robert spencer, a mercer, was mayor. in the mercers joined the company of merchant adventurers in establishing in edward i.'s reign, a woollen manufacture in england, with a branch at antwerp. in edward ii.'s reign they are mentioned as "the fraternity of mercers," and in (henry iv.) they are styled in a charter, "brothers of st. thomas à becket." mercers were at first general dealers in all small wares, including wigs, haberdashery, and even spices and drugs. they attended fairs and markets, and even sat on the ground to sell their wares--in fact, were little more than high-class pedlers. the poet gower talks of "the depression of such mercerie." in late times the silk trade formed the main feature of their business; the greater use of silk beginning about . the mercers' first station, in henry ii.'s reign, was in that part of cheap on the north side where mercers' hall now stands, but they removed soon afterwards higher up on the south side. the part of cheapside between bow church and friday street became known as the mercery. here, in front of a large meadow called the "crownsild," they held their little stalls or standings from soper's lane and the standard. there were no houses as yet in this part of cheapside. in william elsing, a mercer, founded an hospital within cripplegate, for poor blind men, and became prior of his own institution. in (edward iii.), the mercers grew jealous of the lombard merchants, and on midsummer day three mercers were sent to the tower for attacking two lombards in the old jewry. the mercers in this reign sold woollen clothes, but not silks. in , john barnes, mercer, mayor, gave a chest with three locks, with , marks therein, to be lent to younger mercers, upon sufficient pawn and for the use thereof. the grateful recipients were merely to say "de profundis," a pater noster, and no more. this bequest seems to have started among the mercers the kindly practice of assisting the young and struggling members of this company. in the reign of henry vi. the mercers had become great dealers in silks and velvets, and had resigned to the haberdashers the sale of small articles of dress. it is not known whether the mercers bought their silks from the lombards, or the london silk-women, or whether they imported them themselves, since many of the members of the company were merchants. twenty years after the murder of becket, the murdered man's sister, who had married thomas fitz theobald de helles, built a chapel and hospital of augustine friars close to ironmonger lane, cheapside. the hospital was built on the site of the house where becket was born. he was the son of gilbert becket, citizen, mercer and portreeve of london, who was said to have been a crusader, and to have married a fair saracen, who had released him from prison, and who followed him to london, knowing only the one english word "gilbert." the hospital, which was called "st. thomas of acon," from becket's mother having been born at acre, the ancient ptolemais, was given to the mercers' fraternity by de hilles and his wife, and henry iii. gave the master and twelve brothers all the land between st. olave's and ironmonger lane, which had belonged to two rich jews, to enlarge their ground. in henry v.'s reign that illustrious mercer whittington, by his wealth and charity, reflected great lustre on the mercers' company, who at his death were left trustees of the college and almshouses founded by the immortal richard on college hill. the company still preserve the original ordinance of this charity with a curious picture of whittington's death, and of the first three wardens, coventry, grove, and carpenter. in , thomas falconer, mercer and mayor, lent henry v., towards his french wars, ten marks upon jewels. in , joan bradbury, widow of thomas bradbury, late lord mayor of london, left the conduit mead (now new bond street), to the mercers' company for charitable uses. in pursuance of the king's grant on this occasion, the bishop of norwich and others granted the mercers' company acres of land in marylebone, acres in westminster, and st. giles, and st. martin's-in-the-fields, of the annual value of £ s. d., and in part satisfaction of the said £ a year. the company still possess eight acres and a half of this old gift, forming the north side of long acre and the adjacent streets, one of which bears the name of the company. mercer street was described in a parliamentary survey in to have long gardens reaching down to cock and pye ditch, and the site of seven dials. in the three greshams (at the time the twelve companies were appealed to) lent henry viii. upon mortgaged lands £ , s. d. in , the wardens of the mercers' company were summoned before the queen's council for selling their velvets, satins, and damasks so dear, as english coin was no longer base, and the old excuse for the former high charges was gone. the mercers prudently bowed before the storm, promised reform, and begged her majesty's council to look after the grocers. at this time the chief vendors of italian silks lived in cheapside, st. lawrence jewry, and old jewry. [illustration: the "swan with two necks," lad lane (_see page _).] during the civil wars both king and parliament bore heavily on the mercers. in charles i. half forced from them a loan of £ , , and in the parliament borrowed £ , , and arms from the company's armoury, valued at £ . they afterwards gave further arms, valued at £ s. d., and advanced as a second loan £ , . the result now became visible. in , hoping to clear off their debts, the mercers' company engaged in a ruinous insurance scheme, suggested by dr. assheton, a kentish rector. it was proposed to grant annuities of £ per cent. to clergymen's widows according to certain sums paid by their husbands. "pledging the rents of their large landed estates as security for the fulfilment of their contracts with usurers, the mercers entered on business as life assurance agents. limiting the entire amount of subscription to £ , , they decided that no person over sixty years of age should become a subscriber; that no subscriber should subscribe less than £ --_i.e._, should purchase a smaller contingent annuity than one of £ ; that the annuity to every subscriber's widow, or other person for whom the insurance was effected, should be at the rate of £ for every £ of subscription. it was stipulated that subscribers must be in good and perfect health at the time of subscription. it was decided that all married men of the age of thirty years or under, might subscribe any sum from £ to £ , ; that all married men, not exceeding sixty years of age, might subscribe any sum not less than £ , and not exceeding £ . the company's prospectus further stipulates 'that no person that goes to sea, nor soldier that goes to the wars, shall be admitted to subscribe to have the benefit of this proposal, in regard of the casualties and accidents that they are more particularly liable to.' moreover, it was provided that 'in case it should happen that any man who had subscribed should voluntarily make away with himself, or by any act of his occasion his own death, either by duelling, or committing any crime whereby he should be sentenced to be put to death by justice; in any or either of these cases his widow should receive no annuity, but upon delivering up the company's bond, should have the subscription money paid to her.' "the mercers' operations soon gave rise to more business-like companies, specially created to secure the public against some of the calamitous consequences of death. in , the amicable life assurance office--usually, though, as the reader has seen, incorrectly, termed the first life insurance office--was established in imitation of the mercers' office. two years later, the second society of assurance, for the support of widows and orphans, was opened in dublin, which, like the amicable, introduced numerous improvements upon dr. assheton's scheme, and was a joint-stock life assurance society, identical in its principles with, and similar in most of its details to, the modern insurance companies, of which there were as many as one hundred and sixty in the year ." [illustration: city of london school.] large sums were subscribed, but the annuities were fixed too high, and the company had to sink to per cent., and even this proved an insufficient reduction. in they were compelled to stop, and, after several ineffectual struggles, to petition parliament. the petition showed that the mercers were indebted more than £ , . the annuities then out amounted to £ , per annum, and the subscriptions for future amounts reached £ , a year; while to answer these claims their present income only amounted to £ , per annum. the company was therefore empowered by act of parliament, george iii., to issue new bonds and pay them off by a lottery, drawn in their own hall. this plan had the effect of completely retrieving their affairs, and restoring them again to prosperity. strype speaks of the mercers' shops situated on the south side of cheapside as having been turned from mere sheds into handsome buildings four or five storeys high. mercers' hall and chapel have a history of their own. on the rough suppression of monastic institutions, henry viii., gorged with plunder, granted to the mercers' company for £ s. d. the church of the college of st. thomas acon, the parsonage of st. mary colechurch, and sundry premises in the parishes of st. paul, old jewry, st. stephen, walbrook, st. martin, ironmonger lane, and st. stephen, coleman street. immediately behind the great doors of the hospital and mercers' hall stood the hospital church of st. thomas, and at the back were court-yards, cloisters, and gardens in a great wide enclosure east and west of ironmonger lane and the old jewry. st. thomas's church was a large structure, probably rich in monuments, though many of the illustrious mercers were buried in bow church, st. pancras, soper lane, st. antholin's, watling street, and st. benet sherehog. the church was bought chiefly by sir richard gresham's influence, and stow tells us "it is now called mercers' chappell, and therein is kept a free grammar school as of old time had been accustomed." the original mercers' chapel was a chapel toward the street in front of the "great old chapel of st. thomas," and over it was mercers' hall. aggas's plan of london (circa ) shows it was a little above the great conduit of cheapside. the small chapel was built by sir john allen, mercer and mayor ( ), and he was buried there; but the mercers removed this tomb into the hospital church, and divided the chapel into shops. grey, the founder of the hospital, was apprenticed to a bookseller who occupied one of these shops, and after the fire of london he himself carried on the same trade in a shop which was built on the same site. before the suppression, the mercers only occupied a shop of the present front, the modern mercers' chapel standing, says herbert, exactly on the site of part of the hospital church. the old hospital gate, which forms the present hospital entrance, had an image of st. thomas à becket, but this was pulled down by elizabethan fanatics. the interior of the chapel remains unaltered. there is a large ambulatory before it supported by columns, and a stone staircase leads to the hall and court-rooms. the ambulatory contains the recumbent figure of richard fishborne, mercer, dressed in a fur gown and ruff. he was a great benefactor to the company, and died in (james i.). many eminent citizens were buried in st. thomas's, though most of the monuments had been defaced even in stow's time. among them were ten mercer mayors and sheriffs, ten grocers (probably from bucklersbury, their special locality), sir edward shaw, goldsmith to richard iii., two earls of ormond, and stephen cavendish, draper and mayor ( ), whose descendants were ancestors of the ducal families of cavendish and devonshire. william downer, of london, gent., by his last will, dated th june, , gave orders for his body to be buried within the church of st. thomas acon's, of london, in these terms:--"so that every year, yearly for evermore, in their foresaid churche, at such time of the year as it shal happen me to dy, observe and keep an _obyte_, or an anniversary for my sowl, the sowles of my seyd wyfe, the sowles of my fader and moder, and al christian sowles, with _placebo_ and dirige on the even, and mass of requiem on the morrow following solemnly by note for evermore." previous to the suppression, henry viii. had permitted the hospital of st. thomas of acon, which wanted room, to throw a gallery across old jewry into a garden which the master had purchased, adjoining the grocers' hall, and in which sir robert clayton afterwards built a house, of which we shall have to speak in its place. the gallery was to have two windows, and in the winter a light was ordered to be burned there for the comfort of passers-by. in , henry viii. and his queen, jane seymour, stood in the mercers' hall, then newly built, and saw the "marching watch of the city" most bravely set out by its founder, sir john allen, mercer and mayor, and one of the privy council. in the reign of james i., mercers' chapel became a fashionable place of resort; gallants and ladies crowded there to hear the sermons of the learned italian archbishop of spalatro, in dalmatia, one of the few prize converts to protestantism. in we look in and find among his auditors the archbishop of canterbury, the lord chancellor, the earls of arundel and pembroke, and lords zouch and compton. the chapel continued for many years to be used for italian sermons preached to english merchants who had resided abroad, and who partly defrayed the expense. the mercers' school was first held in the hospital and then removed to the mercery. the present chapel front in cheapside is the central part alone of the front built after the great fire. correspondent houses, five storeys high, formerly gave breadth and effect to the whole mass. old views represent shops on each side with unsashed windows. the first floors have stone balconies, and over the central window of each room is the bust of a crowned virgin. it has a large doorcase, enriched with two genii above, in the act of mantling the virgin's head, the company's cognomen displayed upon the keystone of the arch. above is a cornice, with brackets, sustaining a small gallery, from which, on each side, arise doric pilasters, supporting an entablature of the same order; between the intercolumns and the central window are the figures of faith and hope, in niches, between whom, in a third niche of the entablature, is charity, sitting with her three children. the upper storey has circular windows and other enrichments. the entrance most used is in ironmonger lane, where is a small court, with offices, apparently the site of the ancient cloister, and which leads to the principal building. the hall itself is elevated as anciently, and supported by doric columns, the space below being open one side and forming an extensive piazza, at the extremity whereof is the chapel, which is neatly planned, wainscoted, and paved with black and white marble. a high flight of stairs leads from the piazza to the hall, which is a very lofty apartment, handsomely wainscoted and ornamented with doric pilasters, and various carvings in compartments. in the hall, besides the transaction of the company's business, the gresham committees are held, which consist of four aldermen, including the lord mayor _pro tempore_, and eight of the city corporation, with whom are associated a select number of the assistants of the mercers. in this hall also the british fishery society, and other corporate bodies, were formerly accustomed to hold their meetings. the chief portraits in the hall are those of sir thomas gresham (original), a fanciful portrait of sir richard whittington, a likeness of count tekeli (the hero of the old opera), count panington; dean colet (the illustrious friend of erasmus, and the founder of st. paul's school); thomas papillon, master of the company in , who left £ , to the company, to relieve any of his family that ever came to want; and rowland wynne, master of the company in . wynne gave £ towards the repairing of the hall after the great fire. in strype's time ( ), the mercers' company gave away £ , a year in charity. in the company's money legacies amounted to £ , s. d., out of which the company paid annually £ s. d. in , the lapsed legacies of the company became the subject of a chancery suit; the result was that money is now lent to liverymen or freemen of the company requiring assistance in sums of £ , and not exceeding £ , for a term, without interest, but only upon approved security. the present mercers' school, which is but lately finished, is a very elegant stone structure, adjoining st. michael's church, college hill, on the site of whittington's almshouses, which had been removed to highgate to make room for it. the school scholarship is in the gift of the mercers' company, and it must not be forgotten that caxton, the first great english printer, was a member of this livery. subsequently to the great fire, says herbert, there was some discussion with parliament on rebuilding the mercers' school on the former site of st. mary colechurch. that site, however, was ultimately rejected, and by the rebuilding act, charles ii. ( ), it was expressly provided that there should be a plot of ground, on the western side of the old jewry, "set apart for the mercers' school." persons who remember the building, says herbert, describe it whilst here as an old-fashioned house for the masters' residence, with projecting upper storeys, a low, spacious building by the side of it for the school-room, and an area behind it for a playground, the whole being situate on the west side of the old jewry, about forty yards from cheapside. the great value of ground on the above spot, and a desire to widen, as at present, the entrance to the old jewry, occasioned the temporary removal of the mercers' school, in , to no. , budge row, about thirty yards from dowgate hill (a house of the company's, which was afterwards burnt down). in it was again temporarily removed to no. , red lion court, watling street; and from thence, in , to its present situation on college hill. the latter premises were hired by the company, at the rent of £ , and the average expense of the school was £ s. d. the salary of the master is £ , and £ gratuity, with a house to live in, rent and taxes free. writing, arithmetic, and merchant's accounts were added to the greek and latin classics, in ; and a writing-master was engaged, who has a salary of £ , and a gratuity of £ , but no house. there are two exhibitions belonging to the school. with the mercers' hospital, in the middle ages, many curious old city customs were connected. the customary devotions of the new lord mayor, at st. thomas of acon church, in the catholic times, identify themselves in point of locality with the mercers' company, and are to be ranked amongst that company's observances. strype has described these, from an ancient ms. he met with on the subject. the new lord mayor, it states, "_after dinner_," on his inauguration day (the ceremony would have suited much better _before_ dinner in modern days), "was wont to go from his house to the church of st. thomas of acon, those of his livery going before him; and the aldermen in like manner being there met together, they came to the church of st. paul, whither, when they were come, namely, in the middle place between the body of the church, between two little doors, they were wont to pray for the soul of the bishop of london. william norman, who was a great benefactor to the city, in obtaining the confirmation of their liberties from william the conqueror, a priest saying the office _de profundis_ (called a dirge); and from thence they passed to the churchyard, where thomas à becket's parents were buried, and there, near their tomb, they said also, for all the faithful deceased, _de profundis_ again. the city procession thence returned through cheapside market, sometimes with wax candles burning (if it was late), to the said church sanctæ thomæ, and there the mayor and aldermen offered single pence, which being done, every one went to his home." on all saints' days, and various other festivals, the mayor with his family attended at this same church of st. thomas, and the aldermen also, and those that were "of the livery of the mayor, with the honest men of the mysteries," in their several habits, or suits, from which they went to st. paul's to hear vespers. on the feast of innocents they heard vespers at st. thomas's, and on the morrow mass and vespers. the mercers' election cup, says timbs, of early sixteenth century work, was silver-gilt, decorated with fretwork and female busts; the feet, flasks; and on the cover is the popular legend of an unicorn yielding its horn to a maiden. the whole is enamelled with coats of arms, and these lines-- "to elect the master of the mercerie hither am i sent, and by sir thomas leigh for the same intent." the company also possess a silver-gilt wagon and tun, covered with arabesques and enamels, of sixteenth century work. the hall was originally decorated with carvings; the main stem of deal, the fruit, flowers, &c., of lime, pear, and beech. these becoming worm-eaten, were long since removed from the panelling and put aside; but they have been restored by mr. henry crace, who thus describes the process:-- "the carving is of the same colour as when taken down. i merely washed it, and with a gimlet bored a number of holes in the back, and into every projecting piece of fruit and leaves on the face, and placing the whole in a long trough, fifteen inches deep, i covered it with a solution prepared in the following manner:--i took sixteen gallons of linseed oil, with lbs. of litharge, finely ground, lb. of camphor, and lbs. of red lead, which i boiled for six hours, keeping it stirred, that every ingredient might be perfectly incorporated. i then dissolved lbs. of bees'-wax in a gallon of spirits of turpentine, and mixed the whole, while warm, thoroughly together. "in this solution the carving remained for twenty-four hours. when taken out, i kept the face downwards, that the oil might soak down to the face of the carving; and on cutting some of the wood nearly nine inches deep, i found it had soaked through, for not any of the dust was blown out, as i considered it a valuable medium to form a substance for the future support of the wood. this has been accomplished, and, as the dust became saturated with the oil, it increased in bulk, and rendered the carving perfectly solid." the company is now governed by a master, three wardens, and a court of thirty-one or more assistants. the livery fine is s. d. the mercers' company, though not by any means the most ancient of the leading city companies, takes precedence of all. such anomalous institutions are the city companies, that, curious to relate, the present body hardly includes one mercer among them. in henry viii.'s reign the company (freemen, householders, and livery) amounted to fifty-three persons; in it had almost quadrupled. strype ( ) only enumerates fifty-two mayors who had been mercers, from to ; this is below the mark. halkins over-estimates the mercer mayors as ninety-eight up to . few monarchs have been mercers, yet richard ii. was a free brother, and queen elizabeth a free sister. half our modern nobility have sprung from the trades they now despise. many of the great mercers became the founders of noble houses; for instance--sir john coventry ( ), ancestor of the present earl of coventry; sir geoffrey bullen, grandfather of queen elizabeth; sir william hollis, ancestor of the earls of clare. from sir richard dormer ( ) sprang the lords dormer; from sir thomas baldry ( ) the lords kensington (rich); from sir thomas seymour ( ) the dukes of somerset; from sir baptist hicks, the great mercer of james i., who built hicks' hall, on clerkenwell green, sprang the viscounts camden; from sir rowland hill, the lords hill; from james butler (henry ii.) the earls of ormond; from sir geoffrey fielding, privy councillor to henry ii. and richard i., the earls of denbigh. the costume of the mercers became fixed about the reign of charles i. the master and wardens led the civic processions, "faced in furs," with the lords; the livery followed in gowns faced with satins, the livery of all other companies wearing facings of fringe. "in ironmonger lane," says stow, giving us a glimpse of old london, "is the small parish church of st. martin, called pomary, upon what occasion certainly i know not; but it is supposed to be of apples growing where now houses are lately builded, for myself have seen the large void places there." the church was repaired in the year . mr. stodder left s. for a sermon to be preached on st. james's day by an unbeneficed minister, in commemoration of the deliverance in the year (armada); and s. more to the use of the poor of the same parish, to be paid by the ironmongers. chapter xxxiii. guildhall. the original guildhall--a fearful civic spectacle--the value of land increased by the great fire--guildhall as it was and is--the statues over the south porch--dance's disfigurements--the renovation in --the crypt--gog and magog--shopkeepers in guildhall--the cenotaphs in guildhall--the court of aldermen--the city courts--the chamberlain's office--pictures in the guildhall--sir robert porter--the common council room--pictures and statues--guildhall chapel--the new library and museum--some rare books--historical events in guildhall--chaucer in trouble--buckingham at guildhall--anne askew's trial and death--surrey--throckmorton--garnet--a grand banquet. the guildhall--the mean-looking hôtel de ville of london--was originally (says stow) situated more to the east side of aldermanbury, to which it gave name. richard de reynere, a sheriff in the reign of richard i. ( ), gave to the church of st. mary, at osney, near oxford, certain ground rents in aldermanbury, as appears by an entry in the register of the court of hustings of the guildhall. in stow's time the aldermanbury hall had been turned into a carpenter's yard. the present guildhall (which the meanest flemish city would despise) was "builded new," whatever that might imply, according to our venerable guide, in ( th of henry iv.), by thomas knoles, the mayor, and his brethren the aldermen, and "from a little cottage it grew into a great house." the expenses were defrayed by benevolences from the city companies, and ten years' fees, fines, and amercements. henry v. granted the city free passages for four boats and four carts, to bring lime, ragstone, and freestone for the works. in the first year of henry vi., when the citizens were every day growing richer and more powerful, the illustrious whittington's executors gave £ to pave the great hall with purbeck stone. they also blazoned some of the windows of the hall, and the mayor's court, with whittington's escutcheons. a few years afterwards one of the porches, the mayor's chamber, and the council chamber were built. in (henry vii.), sir john shaw, mayor, knighted on bosworth field, built the kitchens, since which time the city feasts, before that held at merchant taylors' and grocers' hall, were annually held here. in , sir nicholas alwin, mayor in , left £ s. d. to purchase tapestry for "gaudy" days at the guildhall. in a new council chamber, with a second room over it, was erected, at an outlay of £ , . in the great fire, when all the roofs and outbuildings were destroyed, an eye-witness describes guildhall itself still standing firm, probably because it was framed with solid oak. mr. vincent, a minister, in his "god's terrible voice in the city," printed in the year , says: "and amongst other things that night, the sight of guildhall was a fearful spectacle, which stood the whole body of it together in view for several hours together, after the fire had taken it, without flames (i suppose because the timber was such solid oake), like a bright shining coal, as if it had been a palace of gold, or a great building of burnished brass." pepys has some curious notes about the new guildhall. "sir richard ford," he says, "tells me, speaking of the new street"--the present king street--"that is to be made from guildhall down to cheapside, that the ground is already, most of it, bought; and tells me of one particular, of a man that hath a piece of ground lying in the very middle of the street that must be; which, when the street is cut out of it, there will remain ground enough of each side to build a house to front the street. he demanded seven hundred pounds for the ground, and to be excused paying anything for the melioration of the rest of his ground that he was to keep. the court consented to give him £ , only not to abate him the consideration, which the man denied; but told them, and so they agreed, that he would excuse the city the £ , that he might have the benefit of the melioration without paying anything for it. so much some will get by having the city burned. ground, by this means, that was not fourpence a foot afore, will now, when houses are built, be worth fifteen shillings a foot." [illustration: mercers' chapel, as rebuilt after the fire. (_from an old print._) (_see page ._)] in the "calendar of state papers" (charles ii., february, ), we find notice that "the committee of the common council of london for making the new street called king street, between guildhall and cheapside, will sit twice a week at guildhall, to treat with persons concerned; enquiry to be made by jury, according to the act for rebuilding the city, of the value of land of such persons as refuse to appear." the great hall is feet long, feet broad, and about feet high. the interior sides, in , were divided into eight portions by projecting clusters of columns. above the dados were two windows of the meanest and most debased gothic. several of the large windows were blocked up with tasteless monuments. the blockings of the friezes were sculptured; large guideron shields were blazoned with the arms of the principal city companies. the old mediæval open timber-work roof had been swallowed up by the great fire, and in lieu of it there was a poor attic storey, and a flat panelled ceiling, by some attributed to wren. at each end of the hall was a large pointed window; the east one blazoned with the royal arms, and the stars and jewels of the english orders of knighthood; the west with the city arms and supporters. at the east end of the hall (the ancient dais) was a raised enclosed platform, for holding the court of hustings and taking the poll at elections, and other purposes. the panelled wainscoting (in the old churchwarden taste) was separated into compartments by fluted corinthian pilasters. over these was a range of ancient canopied niches in carved stone, vulgarly imitated by modern work on the west side. our old friends gog and magog, before dance's _improvements_, stood on brackets adjoining a balcony over the entrance to the interior courts, and were removed to brackets on each side the great west window. [illustration: the crypt of guildhall (_see page _).] stow describes the statues over the great south porch of king henry vi.'s time as bearing the following emblems: the tables of the commandments, a whip, a sword, and a pot. by their ancient habits and the coronets on their heads, he presumed them to be the statues of benefactors of london. the statue of our saviour had disappeared, but the two bearded figures remaining, he conjectured, were good bishop william and the conqueror himself. four lesser figures, two on each side the porch, seemed to be noble and pious ladies, one of them probably the empress maud, another the good queen philippa, who once interceded for the city. these figures were taken down during dance's injudicious alterations in . they lay neglected in a cellar until alderman boydell obtained leave of the corporation to give them to banks, the sculptor, who had taste enough to appreciate the simple earnestness of the gothic work. at his death they were given again to the city. these figures were removed from the old screen in , and were not replaced in the new one. stow, in relation to the guildhall statues, and to the general demolition of "images" that occurred in his time, states, "these verses following" were made about , by william elderton, an attorney in the sheriffs court at guildhall:-- "though most the images be pulled downe. and none be thought remain in towne. i am sure there be in london yet seven images, such, and in such a place as few or none i think will hit, yet every day they show their face; and thousands see them every yeare, but few, i thinke, can tell me where; where _jesus christ_ aloft doth stand, _law_ and _learning_ on either hand, _discipline_ in the devil's necke, and hard by her are three direct; there _justice_, _fortitude_, and _temperance_ stand; where find ye the like in all this land?" the true renovation of this great city hall commenced in the year , when mr. horace jones, the architect to the city of london, was entrusted with the erection of an open oak roof, with a central louvre and tapering metal spire. the new roof is as nearly as possible framed to resemble the roof destroyed in the great fire. many southern windows have been re-opened, and layer after layer of plaster and cement scraped from the internal architectural ornamentation. the southern windows have been fitted with stained glass, designed by mr. f. halliday, the subjects being--the grant of the charter, coining money, the death of wat tyler, a royal tournament, &c. the new roof is of oak, with rather a high pitch, lighted by sixteen dormers, eight on each side. the height from the pavement to the under-side of the ridge is feet, the total length is feet; and there are eight bays and seven principals. the roof, which does great credit to mr. jones, is double-lined oak and deal, slated. the hall is lighted by sixteen gaseliers. a screen, with dais or hustings at the east end, is of carved oak. there is a minstrels' gallery and a new stone floor with coloured bands. the fine crypt under the guildhall was, till its restoration in the year , a mere receptacle for the planks, benches, and trestles used at the city banquets. "this crypt is by far the finest and most extensive undercroft remaining in london, and is a true portion of the ancient hall (erected in ) which escaped the great fire of . it extends half the length beneath the guildhall, from east to west, and is divided nearly equally by a wall, having an ancient pointed door. the crypt is divided into aisles by clustered columns, from which spring the stone-ribbed groins of the vaulting, composed partly of chalk and stone, the principal intersections being covered with carved bosses of flowers, heads, and shields. the north and south aisles had formerly mullioned windows, long walled up. at the eastern end is a fine early english arched entrance, in fair preservation; and in the south-eastern angle is an octangular recess, which formerly was ceiled by an elegantly groined roof, height thirteen feet. the vaulting, with four centred arches, is very striking, and is probably some of the earliest of the sort, which seems peculiar to this country. though called the tudor arch, the time of its introduction was lancastrian (see weale's 'london,' p. ). in the stone-work was rubbed down and cleaned, and the clustered shafts and capitals were repaired; and on the visit of queen victoria to guildhall, july , , a banquet was served to her majesty and suite in this crypt, which was characteristically decorated for the occasion. opposite the north entrance is a large antique bowl of egyptian red granite, which was presented to the corporation by major cookson, in , as a memorial of the british achievements in egypt." (timbs.) "there was something very picturesque," says brayley, "in the old guildhall entrance. on each side of the flight of steps was an octangular turreted gallery, balustraded, having an office in each, appropriated to the hall-keeper; these galleries assumed the appearance of arbours, from being each surrounded by six palm-trees in iron-work, the foliage of which gave support to a large balcony, having in front a clock (with three dials) elaborately ornamented, and underneath a representation of the sun, resplendent with gilding; the clock-frame was of oak. at the angles were the cardinal virtues, and on the top a curious figure of time, with a young child in his arms. on brackets to the right and left of the balcony were the gigantic figures of gog and magog, as before-mentioned, giving, by their vast size and singular costume, an unique character to the whole. at the sides of the steps, under the hall-keeper's office, were two dark cells, or cages, in which unruly apprentices were occasionally confined, by order of the city chamberlain; these were called 'little ease,' from not being of sufficient height for a big boy to stand upright in them." the gog and magog, those honest giants of guildhall who have looked down on many a good dinner with imperturbable self-denial, have been the unconscious occasion of much inkshed. who did they represent, and were they really carried about in lord mayor's shows, was discussed by many generations of angry antiquaries. in strype's time, when there were pictures of queen anne, king william and his consort mary, at the east end of the hall, the two pantomime giants of renown stood by the steps going up to the mayor's court. the one holding a poleaxe with a spiked ball, strype considered, represented a briton; the other, with a halbert, he opined to be a saxon. both of them wore garlands. what was denied to great and learned was disclosed to the poor and simple. hone, the bookseller, or one of his writers, came into possession of a little guide-book sold to visitors to the guildhall in ; this set mr. fairholt, a most diligent antiquary, on the right track, and he soon settled the matter for ever. gog and magog were really corineus and gogmagog. the former, a companion of brutus the trojan, killed, as the story goes, gogmagog, the aboriginal giant. our sketch of city pageants has already shown that two hundred years ago giants named corineus and gogmagog (which ought to have put our antiquaries earlier on the right scent) formed part of the procession. in thomas jordan, the city poet, in his own account of the ceremonial, especially mentions two giants fifteen feet high, in two several chariots, "talking and taking tobacco as they ride along," to the great admiration and delight of the spectators. "at the conclusion of the show," says the writer, "they are to be set up in guildhall, where they may be daily seen all the year, and, i hope, never to be demolished by such dismal violence (the great fire) as happened to their predecessors." these giants of jordan's, being built of wickerwork and pasteboard, at last fell to decay. in two new and more solid giants of wood were carved for the city by richard saunders, a captain in the trained band, and a carver, in king street, cheapside. in , alderman lucas being mayor, copies of these giants walked in the show, turning their great painted heads and goggling eyes, to the delight of the spectators. the guildhall giants, as mr. fairholt has shown, with his usual honest industry, are mentioned by many of our early poets, dramatists, and writers, as shirley, facetious bishop corbet, george wither, and ned ward. in hone's time city children visiting guildhall used to be told that every day when the giants heard the clock strike twelve they came down to dinner. mr. fairholt, in his "gog and magog" ( ), has shown by many examples how professional giants (protectors or destroyers of lives) are still common in the annual festivals of half the great towns of flanders and of france. in the middle of the last century, says mr. fairholt, in his "gog and magog," the guildhall was occupied by shopkeepers, after the fashion of our bazaars; and one thomas boreman, bookseller, "near the giants, in guildhall," published, in , two very small volumes of their "gigantick history," in which he tells us that as corineus and gogmagog were two brave giants, who nicely valued their honour, and exerted their whole strength and force in defence of their liberty and country, so the city of london, by placing these their representatives in their guildhall, emblematically declare that they will, like mighty giants, defend the honour of their country and liberties of this their city, which excels all others as much as those huge giants exceed in stature the common bulk of mankind. the author of this little volume then gives his version of the tale of the encounter, "wherein the giants were all destroyed, save goemagog, the hugest among them, who, being in height twelve cubits, was reserved alive, that corineus might try his strength with him in single combat. corineus desired nothing more than such a match; but the old giant, in a wrestle, caught him aloft and broke three of his ribs. upon this, corineus, being desperately enraged, collected all his strength, heaved up goemagog by main force, and bearing him on his shoulders to the next high rock, threw him headlong, all shattered, into the sea, and left his name on the cliff, which has ever since been called lan-goemagog, that is to say, the giant's leap. thus perished goemagog, commonly called gogmagog, the last of the giants." the early popularity of this tale is testified by its occurrence in the curious history of the fitz-warines, composed, in the thirteenth century, in anglo-norman, no doubt by a writer who resided on the welsh border, and who, in describing a visit paid by william the conqueror there, speaks of that sovereign asking the history of a burnt and ruined town, and an old briton thus giving it him:--"none inhabited these parts except very foul people, great giants, whose king was called goemagog. these heard of the arrival of brutus, and went out to encounter him, and at last all the giants were killed except goemagog." dance's entrance to the courts was made exactly opposite the grand south entrance. four large tasteless cenotaphs, more fit for the pantheon of london, st. paul's, than for anywhere else, are erected in guildhall--to the north, those of beckford, the earl of clarendon, and nelson; on the south, that of william pitt. the monument to beckford, the bold opposer of the arbitrary measures of a mistaken court and a misguided parliament, is by moore, a sculptor who lived in berners street. it represents the alderman in the act of delivering the celebrated speech which is engraved on the pedestal, and which, as horace walpole (who delighted in the mischief) says, made the king uncertain whether to sit still and silent, or to pick up his robes and hurry into his private room. at the angles of the pedestal are two female figures, liberty and commerce, mourning for the alderman. the monument of the earl of chatham, by bacon (executed in for , guineas), is of a higher style than beckford's, and, like its companion, it is a period of political excitement turned into stone. if it were the custom to delay the erection of statues to eminent men twenty years after their death, how many would ever be erected? the usual cold allegory, in this instance, is atoned for by some dignity of mind. the great earl (a roman senator, of course), his left hand on a helm, is placing his right hand affectionately on the plump shoulders of commerce, who, as a blushing young _débutante_, is being presented to him by the city of london, who wears a mural crown, probably because london has no walls. in the foreground is the sculptor's everlasting britannia, seated on her small but serviceable steed, the lion, and receiving into her capacious lap the contents of a cornucopia of plenty, poured into it by four children, who represent the four quarters of the world. the inscription was written by burke. nelson's fame is very imperfectly honoured by a pile of allegory, erected in by the entirely forgotten mr. james smith, for £ , s. d. this deplorable mass of stone consists of a huge figure of neptune looking at britannia, who is mournfully contemplating a very small profile relief of the departed hero, on a small dusty medallion about the size of a maid-servant's locket. to crown all this tame stuff there are some flags and trophies, and a pyramid, on which the city of london (female figure) is writing the words "nile, copenhagen, trafalgar." with admirable taste the sculptor, who knew what his female figures were, has turned the city of london with her back to the spectator. at the base of this absurd monument two sailors watch over a bas-relief of the battle of trafalgar, which certainly no one of taste would steal. the inscription is from the florid pen of sheridan. facing his father, the gouty old roman of the true rock, stands william pitt, lean, arrogant, and with the nose "on which he dangled the opposition" sufficiently prominent. it was the work of j.g. bubb, and was erected in , at a cost of £ , s. d.; and a pretty mixture of the greek pantheon and the english house of commons it is! pitt stands on a rock, dressed as chancellor of the exchequer; below him are apollo and mercury, to represent eloquence and learning; and a woman on a dolphin, who stands for--what does our reader think?--national energy. in the foreground is what guide-books call "a majestic figure" of britannia, calmly holding a hot thunderbolt and a cold trident, and riding side-saddle on a sea-horse. the inscription is by canning. the statue of wellington, by bell, cost £ , s. the court of aldermen is a richly-gilded room with a stucco ceiling, painted with allegorical figures of the hereditary virtues of the city of london--justice, prudence, temperance, and fortitude--by that over-rated painter, hogarth's father-in-law, sir james thornhill, who was presented by the corporation with a gold cup, value £ s. in the cornices are emblazoned the arms of all the mayors since (the year of the gordon riots). each alderman's chair bears his name and arms. the apartment, says a writer in knight's "london," as its name tells us, is used for the sittings of the court of aldermen, who, in judicial matters, form the bench of magistrates for the city, and in their more directly corporate capacity try the validity of ward elections, and claims to freedom; who admit and swear brokers, superintend prisons, order prosecutions, and perform a variety of other analogous duties; a descent, certainly, from the high position of the ancient "ealdormen," or superior saxon nobility, from whom they derive their name and partly their functions. they were called "barons" down to the time of henry i., if, as is probable, the latter term in the charter of that king refers to the aldermen. a striking proof of the high rank and importance of the individuals so designated is to be found in the circumstance that the wards of london of which they were aldermen were, in some cases at least, their own heritable property, and as such bought and sold and transferred under particular circumstances. thus, the aldermanry of a ward was purchased, in , by william faryngdon, who gave it his own name, and in whose family it remained upwards of eighty years; and in another case the knighten guild having given the lands and soke of what is now called portsoken ward to trinity priory, the prior became, in consequence, alderman, and so the matter remained in stow's time, who beheld the prior of his day riding in procession with the mayor and aldermen, only distinguished from them by wearing a purple instead of a scarlet gown. each of the twenty-six wards into which the city is divided elects one alderman, with the exception of cripplegate within and cripplegate without, which together send but one; add to them an alderman for southwark, or, as it is sometimes called, bridge ward without, and we have the entire number of twenty-six, including the mayor. they are elected for life at ward-motes, by such householders as are at the same time freemen, and paying not less than thirty shillings to the local taxes. the fine for the rejection of the office is £ . generally speaking, the aldermen consist of those persons who, as common councilmen, have won the good opinion of their fellows, and who are presumed to be fitted for the higher offices. talking of the ancient aldermen, kemble, in his learned work, "the saxons in england," says:--"the new constitution introduced by cnut reduced the ealdorman to a subordinate position. over several counties was now placed one eorl, or earl, in the northern sense a jarl, with power analogous to that of the frankish dukes. the word ealdorman itself was used by the danes to denote a class--gentle indeed, but very inferior to the princely officers who had previously borne that title. it is under cnut, and the following danish kings, that we gradually lose sight of the old ealdormen. the king rules by his earls and his huscarlas, and the ealdormen vanish from the counties. from this time the king's writs are directed to the earl, the bishop, and the sheriff of the county, but in no one of them does the title of the ealdorman any longer occur; while those sent to the towns are directed to the bishop and the portgeréfa, or prefect of the city. gradually the old title ceases altogether, except in the cities, where it denotes an inferior judicature, much as it does among ourselves at the present day." "the courts for the city" in stow's time were:--" . the court of common council. . the court of the lord maior, and his brethren the aldermen. . the court of hustings. . the court of orphans. . the court of the sheriffs. . the court of the wardmote. . the court of hallmote. . the court of requests, commonly called the court of conscience. . the chamberlain's court for apprentices, and making them free." in the court of exchequer, formerly the court of king's bench (where the mayor's court is still held), stow describes one of the windows put up by whittington's executors, as containing a blazon of the mayor, seated, in parti-coloured habit, and with his hood on. at the back of the judge's seat there used to be paintings of prudence, justice, religion, and fortitude. here there is a large picture, by alaux, of paris, presented by louis philippe, representing his reception of an address from the city, on his visit to england, in . this part of the guildhall treasures also contains several portraits of george iii. and queen charlotte, by reynolds' rival, ramsay (son of allan ramsay the poet), and william iii. and queen mary, by van der vaart. there is a pair of classical subjects--minerva, by westall, and apollo washing his locks in the castalian fountains, by gavin hamilton. "the greater portion of the judicial business of the corporation is carried on here; that business, as a whole, comprising in its civil jurisdiction, first, the court of hustings, the supreme court of record in london, and which is frequently resorted to in outlawry, and other cases where an expeditious judgment is desired; secondly, the lord mayor's court, which has cognisance of all personal and mixed actions at common law, which is a court of equity, and also a criminal court in matters pertaining to the customs of london; and, thirdly, the sheriffs' court, which has a common law jurisdiction only. we may add that the jurisdiction of both courts is confined to the city and liberties, or, in other words, to those portions of incorporated london known respectively, in corporate language, as within the walls and without. the criminal jurisdiction includes the london sessions, held generally eight times a year, with the recorder as the acting judge, for the trial of felonies, &c.; the southwark sessions, held in southwark four times a year; and the eight courts of conservancy of the river." passing into the chamberlain's office, we find a portrait of mr. thomas tomkins, by reynolds; and if it be asked who is mr. thomas tomkins, we have only to say, in the words of the inscription on another great man, "look around!" all these beautifully written and emblazoned duplicates of the honorary freedoms and thanks voted by the city, some sixty or more, we believe, in number, are the sole production of him who, we regret to say, is the late mr. thomas tomkins. the duties of the chamberlain are numerous; among them the most worthy of mention, perhaps, are the admission, on oath, of freemen (till of late years averaging in number one thousand a year); the determining quarrels between masters and apprentices (hogarth's prints of the "idle and industrious apprentice" are the first things you see within the door); and, lastly, the treasurership, in which department various sums of money pass through his hands. in , the latest year for which we have any authenticated statement, the corporate receipts, derived chiefly from rents, dues, and market tolls, amounted to £ , s. d., and the expenditure to somewhat more. near the door numerous written papers attract the eye--the useful daily memoranda of the multifarious business eternally going on, and which, in addition to the matters already incidentally referred to, point out one of the modes in which that business is accomplished--the committees. we read of appointments for the committee of the royal exchange--of sewers--of corn, coal, and finance--of navigation--of police, and so on. (knight's "london," .) in other rooms of the guildhall are the following interesting pictures:--opie's "murder of james i. of scotland;" reynolds' portrait of the great lord camden; two studies of a "tiger," and a "lioness and her young," by northcote; the "battle of towton," by boydell; "conjugal affection," by smirke; and portraits of sir robert clayton, sir matthew hale, and alderman waithman. these pictures are curious as marking various progressive periods of english art. a large folding-screen, painted, it is said, by copley, represents the lord mayor beckford delivering the city sword to george iii., at temple bar; interesting for its portraits, and record of the costume of the period; presented by alderman salomons to the city in . here once hung a large picture of the battle of agincourt, painted by sir robert ker porter, when nineteen years of age, assisted by the late mr. mulready, and presented to the city in . [illustration: the court of aldermen, guildhall. (_see page ._)] the common council room (says brayley) is a compact and well-proportioned apartment, appropriately fitted up for the assembly of the court of common council, which consists of the lord mayor, twenty aldermen, and deputies from the city wards; the middle part is formed into a square by four tuscan arches, sustaining a cupola, by which the light is admitted. here is a splendid collection of paintings, and some statuary: for the former the city is chiefly indebted to the munificence of the late mr. alderman john boydell, who was lord mayor in . the principal picture, however, was executed at the expense of the corporation, by j.s. copley, r.a., in honour of the gallant defence of gibraltar by general elliot, afterwards lord heathfield; it measures twenty-five feet in width, and about twenty in height, and represents the destruction of the floating batteries before the above fortress on the th of september, . the principal figures, which are as large as life, are portraits of the governor and officers of the garrison. it cost the city £ , . here also are four pictures, by paton, representing other events in that celebrated siege; and two by dodd, of the engagement in the west indies between admirals rodney and de grasse in . [illustration: old front of guildhall. (_from seymour's "london," ._)] against the south wall are portraits of lord heathfield, after sir joshua reynolds; the marquis cornwallis, by copley; admiral lord viscount hood, by abbott; and mr. alderman boydell, by sir william beechey; also, a large picture of the "murder of david rizzio," by opie. on the north wall is "sir william walworth killing wat tyler," by northcote; and the following portraits: viz., admiral lord rodney, after monnoyer; admiral earl howe, copied by g. kirkland; admiral lord duncan, by hoppner; admirals the earl of st. vincent and lord viscount nelson, by sir william beechey; and david pinder, esq., by opie. the subjects of three other pictures are more strictly municipal--namely, the ceremony of administering the civic oath to mr. alderman newnham as lord mayor, on the hustings at guildhall, november th, (this was painted by miller, and includes upwards of portraits of the aldermen, &c.); the lord mayor's show on the water, november the th (the vessels by paton, the figures by wheatley); and the royal entertainment in guildhall on the th of june, , by william daniell, r.a. within an elevated niche of dark-coloured marble, at the upper end of the room, is a fine statue, in white marble, by chantrey, of george iii., which was executed at the cost to the city of £ , s. d. he is represented in his royal robes, with his right hand extended, as in the act of answering an address, the scroll of which he is holding in the left hand. at the western angles of the chamber are busts, in white marble, of admiral lord viscount nelson, by mrs. damer; and the duke of wellington, by turnerelli. the members of the council (says knight) are elected by the same class as the aldermen, but in very varying and--in comparison with the size and importance of the wards--inconsequential numbers. bassishaw and lime street wards have the smallest representation--four members--and those of farringdon within and without the largest--namely, sixteen and seventeen. the entire number of the council is . their meetings are held under the presidency of the lord mayor; and the aldermen have also the right of being present. the other chief officers of the municipality, as the recorder, chamberlain, judges of the sheriffs' courts, common serjeant, the four city pleaders, town clerk, &c., also attend. the chapel at the east end of the guildhall, pulled down in , once called london college, and dedicated to "our lady mary magdalen and all saints," was built, says stow, about the year . it was rebuilt in the reign of henry vi., who allowed the guild of st. nicholas for two chaplains to be kept in the said chapel. in stow's time the chapel contained seven defaced marble tombs, and many flat stones covering rich drapers, fishmongers, custoses of the chapel, chaplains, and attorneys of the lord mayor's court. in strype's time the mayors attended the weekly services, and services at their elections and feasts. the chapel and lands had been bought of edward vi. for £ s. d. upon the front of the chapel were stone figures of edward vi., elizabeth with a phoenix, and charles i. treading on a globe. on the south side of the chapel was "a fair and large library," originally built by the executors of richard whittington and william bury. after the protector somerset had borrowed (_i.e._, stolen) the books, the library in strype's time became a storehouse for cloth. the new library and museum (says mr. overall, the librarian), which lies at the east end of the guildhall, occupies the site of some old and dilapidated houses formerly fronting basinghall street, and extending back to the guildhall. the total frontage of the new buildings to this street is feet, and the depth upwards of feet. the structure consists mainly of two rooms, or halls, placed one over the other, with reading, committee, and muniment rooms surrounding them. of these two halls the museum occupies the lower site, the floor being level with the ancient crypt of the guildhall, with which it will directly communicate, and is consequently somewhat below the present level of basinghall street. this room, divided into naves and aisles, is feet long and feet wide, and has a clear height of feet. the large fire-proof muniment rooms on this floor, entered from the museum, are intended to hold the valuable archives of the city. the library above the museum is a hall feet in length, feet wide, and feet in height, divided, like the museum, into naves and aisles, the latter being fitted up with handsome oak book-cases, forming twelve bays, into which the furniture can be moved when the nave is required on state occasions as a reception-hall--one of the principal features in the whole design of this building being its adaptability to both the purpose of a library and a series of reception-rooms when required. the hall is exceedingly light, the clerestory over the arcade of the nave, with the large windows at the north and south ends of the room, together with those in the aisles, transmitting a flood of light to every corner of the room. the oak roof--the arched ribs of which are supported by the arms of the twelve great city companies, with the addition of those of the leather-sellers and broderers, and also the royal and city arms--has its several timbers richly moulded, and its spandrils filled in with tracery, and contains three large louvres for lighting the roof, and thoroughly ventilating the hall. the aisle roofs, the timbers of which are also richly wrought, have louvres over each bay, and the hall at night may be lighted by means of sun-burners suspended from each of these louvres, together with those in the nave. each of the spandrils of the arcade has, next the nave, a sculptured head, representing history, poetry, printing, architecture, sculpture, painting, philosophy, law, medicine, music, astronomy, geography, natural history, and botany; the several personages chosen to illustrate these subjects being stow and camden, shakespeare and milton, guttenberg and caxton, william of wykeham and wren, michael angelo and flaxman, holbein and hogarth, bacon and locke, coke and blackstone, harvey and sydenham, purcell and handel, galileo and newton, columbus and raleigh, linnæus and cuvier, ray and gerard. there are three fire-places in this room. the one at the north end, executed in d'aubigny stone, is very elaborate in detail, the frieze consisting of a panel of painted tiles, executed by messrs. gibbs and moore, and the subject an architectonic design of a procession of the arts and sciences, with the city of london in the middle. among the choicest books are the following:--"liber custumarum," st to the th henry ii. ( - ). edited by mr. riley.--"liber de antiquis legibus," st richard i., . treats of old laws of london. translated by riley.--"liber dunthorn," so called from the writer, who was town-clerk of london. contains transcripts of charters from william the conqueror to rd edward iv.--"liber ordinationum," th edward iii., , to henry vii. contains the early statutes of the realm, the ancient customs and ordinances of the city of london. at folio are entered instructions to the citizens of london as to their conduct before the justices itinerant at the tower.--"liber horn" (by andrew horn). contains transcripts of charters, statutes, &c.--the celebrated "liber albus."--"liber fleetwood." names of all the courts of law within the realm; the arms of the lord mayor, aldermen, &c., for ; the liberties, customs, and charters of the cinque ports; the queen's prerogative in the salt shores; the liberties of st. martin's-le-grand. a series of letter books. these books commence about years before the "journals of the common council," and about years before the "repertories of the court of aldermen;" they contain almost the only records of those courts prior to the commencement of such journals and repertories. "journals of the proceedings of the common council, from to the present time."--"repertories containing the proceedings of the court of aldermen from to the present time."--"remembrancia." a collection of correspondence, &c., between the sovereigns, various eminent statesmen, the lord mayors and the courts of aldermen and common council, on matters relating to the government of the city and country at large." fire decrees. decrees made by virtue of an act for erecting a judicature for determination of differences touching houses burnt or demolished by reason of the late fire which happened in london." of the many historical events that have taken place in the guildhall, we will now recapitulate a few. chaucer was connected with one of the most tumultuous scenes in the guildhall of richard ii.'s time. in the city, worn out with the king's tyranny and exactions, selected john of northampton mayor in place of the king's favourite, sir nicholas brember. a tumult arose when brember endeavoured to hinder the election, which ended with a body of troops under sir robert knolles interposing and installing the king's nominee. john of northampton was at once packed off to corfe castle, and chaucer fled to the continent. he returned to london in , and was elected member for kent. but the king had not forgotten his conduct at the guildhall, and he was at once deprived of the comptrollership of the customs in the port of london, and sent to the tower. here he petitioned the government. having alluded to the delicious hours he was wont to spend enjoying the blissful seasons, and contrasted them with his penance in the dark prison, cut off from friendship and acquaintances, "forsaken of all that any word dare speak" for him, he continues: "although i had little in respect (comparison) among others great and worthy, yet had i a fair parcel, as methought for the time, in furthering of my sustenance; and had riches sufficient to waive need; and had dignity to be reverenced in worship; power methought that i had to keep from mine enemies; and meseemed to shine in glory of renown. every one of those joys is turned into his contrary; for riches, now have i poverty; for dignity, now am i imprisoned; instead of power, wretchedness i suffer; and for glory of renown, i am now despised and fully hated." chaucer was set free in , having, it is said, though we hope unjustly, purchased freedom by dishonourable disclosures as to his former associates. it was at the guildhall, a few weeks after the death of edward iv., and while the princes were in the tower, that the duke of buckingham, "the deep revolving witty buckingham," richard's accomplice, convened a meeting of citizens in order to prepare the way for richard's mounting the throne. shakespeare, closely following hall and sir thomas more, thus sketches the scene:-- _buck._ withal, i did infer your lineaments, being the right idea of your father, both in your form and nobleness of mind: laid open all your victories in scotland, your discipline in war, wisdom in peace, your bounty, virtue, fair humility; indeed, left nothing fitting for your purpose untouch'd, or slightly handled, in discourse; and, when my oratory drew toward end, i bade them that did love their country's good cry, "god save richard, england's royal king!" _glo._ and did they so? _buck._ no, so god help me, they spake not a word; but, like dumb statues or breathing stones, stared each on other, and look'd deadly pale. which when i saw i reprehended them, and ask'd the mayor what meant this wilful silence? his answer was, the people were not us'd to be spoke to but by the recorder. then he was urg'd to tell my tale again-- "thus saith the duke, thus hath the duke inferr'd;" but nothing spoke in warrant from himself. when he had done, some followers of mine own at lower end o' the hall, hurl'd up their caps, and some ten voices cried, "god save king richard!" and thus i took the vantage of those few-- "thanks, gentle citizens and friends," quoth i; "this general applause and cheerful shout, argues your wisdom, and your love to richard:" and even here brake off, and came away. anne askew, tried at the guildhall in henry viii.'s reign, was the daughter of sir william askew, a lincolnshire gentleman, and had been married to a papist, who had turned her out of doors on her becoming a protestant. on coming to london to sue for a separation, this lady had been favourably received by the queen and the court ladies, to whom she had denounced transubstantiation, and distributed tracts. bishop bonner soon had her in his clutches, and she was cruelly put to the rack in order to induce her to betray the court ladies who had helped her in prison. she pleaded that her servant had only begged money for her from the city apprentices. "on my being brought to trial at guildhall," she says, in her own words, "they said to me there that i was a heretic, and condemned by the law, if i would stand in mine opinion. i answered, that i was no heretic, neither yet deserved i any death by the law of god. but as concerning the faith which i uttered and wrote to the council, i would not deny it, because i knew it true. then would they needs know if i would deny the sacrament to be christ's body and blood. i said, 'yea; for the same son of god who was born of the virgin mary is now glorious in heaven, and will come again from thence at the latter day. and as for that ye call your god, it is a piece of bread. for more proof thereof, mark it when you list; if it lie in the box three months it will be mouldy, and so turn to nothing that is good. whereupon i am persuaded that it cannot be god.' "after that they willed me to have a priest, at which i smiled. then they asked me if it were not good. i said i would confess my faults unto god, for i was sure he would hear me with favour. and so i was condemned. and this was the ground of my sentence: my belief, which i wrote to the council, that the sacramental bread was left us to be received with thanksgiving in remembrance of christ's death, the only remedy of our souls' recovery, and that thereby we also receive the whole benefits and fruits of his most glorious passion. then would they know whether the bread in the box were god or no. i said, 'god is a spirit, and will be worshipped in spirit and truth.' then they demanded, 'will you plainly deny christ to be in the sacrament?' i answered, 'that i believe faithfully the eternal son of god not to dwell there;' in witness whereof i recited daniel iii., acts vii. and xvii., and matthew xxiv., concluding thus: 'i neither wish death nor yet fear his might; god have the praise thereof, with thanks.'" anne askew was burnt at smithfield with three other martyrs, july , . bonner, the chancellor wriothesley, and many nobles were present on state seats near st. bartholomew's gate, and their only anxiety was lest the gunpowder hung in bags at the martyrs' necks should injure them when it exploded. shaxton, the ex-bishop of salisbury, who had saved his life by apostacy, preached a sermon to the martyrs before the flames were put to the fagots. in (towards the close of the life of henry viii.), the earl of surrey was tried for treason at the guildhall. he was accused of aiming at dethroning the king, and getting the young prince into his hands; also for adding the arms of edward the confessor to his escutcheon. the earl, persecuted by the seymours, says lord herbert, "was of a deep understanding, sharp wit, and deep courage, defended himself many ways--sometimes denying their accusations as false, and together weakening the credit of his adversaries; sometimes interpreting the words he said in a far other sense than that in which they were represented." nevertheless, the king had vowed the destruction of the family, and the earl, found guilty, was beheaded on tower hill, january , . he had in vain offered to fight his accuser, sir richard southwell, in his shirt. the order for the execution of the duke, his father, arrived at the tower the very night king henry died, and so the duke escaped. sir nicholas throckmorton, another guildhall sufferer, was the son of a papist who had refused to take the oath of supremacy, and had been imprisoned in the tower by henry viii. nicholas, his son, a protestant, appointed sewer to the burly tyrant, had fought by the king's side in france. during the reign of edward vi. throckmorton distinguished himself at the battle of pinkie, and was knighted by the young king, who made him under-treasurer of the mint. at edward's death throckmorton sent mary's goldsmith to inform her of her accession. though no doubt firmly attached to the princess elizabeth, throckmorton took no public part in the wyatt rebellion; yet, six days after his friend wyatt's execution, throckmorton was tried for conspiracy to kill the queen. the trial itself is so interesting as a specimen of intellectual energy, that we subjoin a scene or two:-- _serjeant stamford:_ methinks those things which others have confessed, together with your own confession, will weigh shrewdly. but what have you to say as to the rising in kent, and wyatt's attempt against the queen's royal person in her palace? _chief justice bromley:_ why do you not read to him wyatt's accusation, which makes him a sharer in his treasons? _sir r. southwell:_ wyatt has grievously accused you, and in many things which have been confirmed by others. _sir n. throckmorton:_ whatever wyatt said of me, in hopes to save his life, he unsaid it at his death; for, since i came into the hall, i heard one say, whom i do not know, that wyatt on the scaffold cleared not only the lady elizabeth and the earl of devonshire, but also all the gentlemen in the tower, saying none of them knew anything of his commotion, of which number i take myself to be one. _sir n. hare:_ nevertheless, he said that all he had written and confessed before the council was true. _sir n. throckmorton:_ nay sir, by your patience, wyatt did not say so; that was master doctor's addition. _sir r. southwell:_ it seems you have good intelligence. _sir n. throckmorton:_ almighty god provided this revelation for me this very day, since i came hither for i have been in close prison for eight and fifty days, where i could hear nothing but what the birds told me who flew over my head. serjeant stamford told him the judges did not sit there to make disputations, but to declare the law; and one of those judges (hare) having confirmed the observation, by telling throckmorton he had heard both the law and the reason, if he could but understand it, he cried out passionately: "o merciful god! o eternal father! who seest all things, what manner of proceedings are these? to what purpose was the statute of repeal made in the last parliament, where i heard some of you here present, and several others of the queen's learned counsel, grievously inveigh against the cruel and bloody laws of henry viii., and some laws made in the late king's time? some termed them draco's laws, which were written in blood; others said they were more intolerable than any laws made by dionysius or any other tyrant. in a word, as many men, so many bitter names and terms those laws.... let us now but look with impartial eyes, and consider thoroughly with ourselves, whether, as you, the judges, handle the statute of edward iii. with your equity and constructions, we are not now in a much worse condition than when we were yoked with those cruel laws. those laws, grievous and captious as they were, yet had the very property of laws, according to st. paul's description, for they admonished us, and discovered our sins plainly to us, and when a man is warned he is half armed; but these laws, as they are handled, are very baits to catch us, and only prepared for that purpose. they are no laws at all, for at first sight they assure us that we are delivered from our old bondage, and live in more security; but when it pleases the higher powers to call any man's life and sayings in question, then there are such constructions, interpretations, and extensions reserved to the judges and their equity, that the party tried, as i am now, will find himself in a much worse case than when those cruel laws were in force. but i require you, honest men, who are to try my life, to consider these things. it is clear these judges are inclined rather to the times than to the truth, for their judgments are repugnant to the law, repugnant to their own principles, and repugnant to the opinions of their godly and learned predecessors." we rejoice to say that, in spite of all the efforts of his enemies, this gentleman escaped the scaffold, and lived to enjoy happier times. lastly, we come to one of the gunpowder plot conspirators; not one of the most guilty, yet undoubtedly cognisant of the mischief brewing. on the th of march, , garnet, the superior of the english jesuits (whose cruel execution in st. paul's churchyard we have already described), was tried at the guildhall, and found guilty of having taken part in organising the gunpowder plot. he was found concealed at hendlip, the mansion of a roman catholic gentleman, near worcester. [illustration: the new library, guildhall (_see page _).] chapter xxxiv. the lord mayors of london. the first mayor of london--portrait of him--presentation to the king--an outspoken mayor--sir n. farindon--sir william walworth--origin of the prefix "lord"--sir richard whittington and his liberality--institutions founded by him--sir simon eyre and his table--a musical lord mayor--henry viii. and gresham--loyalty of the lord mayor and citizens to queen mary--osborne's leap into the thames--sir w. craven--brass crosby--his committal to the tower--a victory for the citizens. the modern lord mayor is supposed to have had a prototype in the roman prefect and the saxon portgrave. the lord mayor is only "lord" and "right honourable" by courtesy, and not from his dignity as a privy councillor on the demise or abdication of a sovereign. in , richard i. elected henry fitz ailwyn, a draper of london, to be first mayor of london, and he served twenty-four years. he is supposed to have been a descendant of aylwyn child, who founded the priory at bermondsey in . he was buried, according to strype, at st. mary bothaw, walbrook, a church destroyed in the great fire; but according to stow, in the holy trinity priory, aldgate. there is a doubtful half-length oil-portrait or panel of the venerable fitz alwyn over the master's chair in drapers' hall, but it has no historical value. but the first formal mayor was richard renger ( ), king john granting the right of choosing a mayor to the citizens, provided he was first presented to the king or his justice for approval. henry iii. afterwards allowed the presentation to take place in the king's absence before the barons of the exchequer at westminster, to prevent expense and delay, as the citizens could not be expected to search for the king all over england and france. [illustration: sir richard whittington. (_from an old portrait._)] the presentation to the king, even when he was in england, long remained a great vexation with the london mayors. for instance, in , gerard bat, chosen a second time, went to woodstock palace to be presented to king henry iii., who refused to appoint him till he (the king) came to london. henry iii., indeed, seems to have been chronically troubled by the london mayors, for in , on the mayor and aldermen doing fealty to the king in st. paul's, the mayor, with blunt honesty, dared to say to the weak monarch, "my lord, so long as you unto us will be a good lord and king, we will be faithful and duteous unto you." these were bold words in a reign when the heading block was always kept ready near a throne. in , the same monarch seized and imprisoned the mayor and chief aldermen for fortifying the city in favour of the barons, and for four years the tyrannical king appointed custodes. the city again recovered its liberties and retained them till (edward i.), when sir gregory rokesley refusing to go out of the city to appear before the king's justices at the tower, the mayoralty was again suspended and custodes appointed till the year , when henry wallein was elected mayor. edward ii. also held a tight hand on the mayoralty till he appointed the great goldsmith, sir nicholas farindon, mayor "as long as it pleased him." farindon gave the title to farringdon ward, which had been in his family eighty-two years, the consideration being twenty marks as a fine, and one clove or a slip of gillyflower at the feast of easter. he was a warden of the goldsmiths, and was buried at st. peter-le-chepe, a church that before the great fire stood where the plane-tree now waves at the corner of wood street. he left money for a light to burn before our lady the virgin in st. peter-le-chepe for ever. the mayoralty of andrew aubrey, grocer ( ), was rather warlike; for the mayor and two of his officers being assaulted in a tumult, two of the ringleaders were beheaded at once in chepe. in , henry picard, mayor of london, was an honoured man, for he had the glory of feasting edward iii. of england, the black prince, john king of austria, the king of cyprus, and david of scotland, and afterwards opened his hall to all comers at cards and dice, his wife inviting the court ladies. sir william walworth, a fishmonger, who was mayor in (edward iii.) and (richard ii.), was that prompt and choleric man who somewhat basely slew the kentish rebel, wat tyler, when he was invited to a parley by the young king. it was long supposed that the dagger in the city arms was added in commemoration of this foul blow, but stow has clearly shown that it was intended to represent the sword of st. paul, the patron saint of the corporation of london. the manor of walworth belonged to the family of this mayor, who was buried in the church of st. michael, crooked lane, the parish where he had resided. some antiquaries, says mr. timbs, think the prefix of "lord" is traceable to ( st richard ii.), when there was a general assessment for a war subsidy. the question was where was the mayor to come. "have him among the earls," was the suggestion; so the right worshipful had to pay £ , about £ of our present money. and now we come to a mayor greater even in city story and legend than even walworth himself, even the renowned richard whittington, the hero of our nursery days. he was the son of a gloucestershire knight, who had fallen into poverty. the industrious son, born in (edward iii.), on coming to london, was apprenticed to hugh fitzwarren, a mercer. disgusted with the drudgery, he ran away; but while resting by a stone cross at the foot of highgate hill, he is said to have heard in the sound of bow bells the voice of his good angel, "turn again, whittington, thrice lord mayor of london." what a charm there is still in the old story! as for the cat that made his fortune by catching all the mice in barbary, we fear we must throw him overboard, even though stow tells a true story of a man and a cat that greatly resembles that told of whittington. whittington married his master's daughter, and became a wealthy merchant. he supplied the wedding trousseau of the princess blanche, eldest daughter of henry iv., when she married the son of the king of the romans, and also the pearls and cloth of gold for the marriage of the princess philippa. he became the court banker, and lent large sums of money to our lavish monarchs, especially to the chivalrous henry v. for carrying on the siege of harfleur, a siege celebrated by shakespeare. it is said that in his last mayoralty king henry v. and queen catherine dined with him in the city, when whittington caused a fire to be lighted of precious woods, mixed with cinnamon and other spices; and then taking all the bonds given him by the king for money lent, amounting to no less than £ , , he threw them into the fire and burnt them, thereby freeing his sovereign from his debts. the king, astonished at such a proceeding, exclaimed, "surely, never had king such a subject;" to which whittington, with court gallantry, replied, "surely, sire, never had subject such a king." whittington was really four times mayor--twice in richard ii.'s reign, once in that of henry iv., and once in that of henry v. as a mayor whittington was popular, and his justice and patriotism became proverbial. he vigorously opposed the admission of foreigners into the freedom of the city, and he fined the brewers' company £ for selling bad ale and forestalling the market. his generosity was like a well-spring; and being childless, he spent his life in deeds of charity and generosity. he erected conduits at cripplegate and billingsgate; he founded a library at the grey friars' monastery in newgate street (now christ's hospital); he procured the completion of the "liber albus," a book of city customs; and he gave largely towards the guildhall library. he paved the guildhall, restored the hospital of st. bartholomew, and by his will left money to rebuild newgate, and erect almshouses on college hill (now removed to highgate). he died in (henry vi.). nor should we forget that whittington was also a great architect, and enlarged the nave of westminster abbey for his knightly master, henry v. this large-minded and munificent man resided in a grand mansion in hart street, up a gateway a few doors from mark lane. a very curious old house in sweedon's passage, grub street, with an external winding staircase, used to be pointed out as whittington's; and the splendid old mansion in hart street, crutched friars, pulled down in , and replaced by offices and warehouses, was said to have cats'-heads for knockers, and cats'-heads (whose eyes seemed always turned on you) carved in the ceilings. the doorways, and the brackets of the long lines of projecting tudor windows, were beautifully carved with grotesque figures. in (henry v.) sir william de sevenoke was mayor. this rich merchant had risen to the top of the tree by cleverness and diligence equal to that of whittington, but we hear less of his charity. he was a foundling, brought up by charitable persons, and apprenticed to a grocer. he was knighted by henry vi., and represented the city in parliament. dying in , he was buried at st. martin's, ludgate. in (henry vi.) sir john rainewell, mayor, with a praiseworthy disgust at all dishonesty in trade, detecting lombard merchants adulterating their wines, ordered butts to be stove in and swilled down the kennels. how he might wash down london now with cheap sherry! in (henry vi.), sir simon eyre. this very worthy mayor left , marks to the company of drapers, for prayers to be read to the market people by a priest in the chapel at guildhall. it is related that when it was proposed to eyre at guildhall that he should stand for sheriff, he would fain have excused himself, as he did not think his income was sufficient; but he was soon silenced by one of the aldermen observing "that no citizen could be more capable than the man who had openly asserted that he broke his fast every day on a table for which he would not take a thousand pounds." this assertion excited the curiosity of the then lord mayor and all present, in consequence of which his lordship and two of the aldermen, having invited themselves, accompanied him home to dinner. on their arrival mr. eyre desired his wife to "prepare the little table, and set some refreshment before the guests." this she would fain have refused, but finding he would take no excuse, she seated herself on a low stool, and, spreading a damask napkin over her lap, with a venison pasty thereon, simon exclaimed to the astonished mayor and his brethren, "behold the table which i would not take a thousand pounds for!" soon after this sir simon was chosen lord mayor, on which occasion, remembering his former promise "at the conduit," he, on the following shrove tuesday, gave a pancake feast to all the 'prentices in london; on which occasion they went in procession to the mansion house, where they met with a cordial reception from sir simon and his lady, who did the honours of the table on this memorable day, allowing their guests to want for neither ale nor wine. in sir john norman was the first mayor who rowed to westminster. the mayors had hitherto generally accompanied the presentation show on horseback. the thames watermen, delighted with the innovation so profitable to them, wrote a song in praise of norman, two lines of which are quoted by fabyan in his "chronicles;" and dr. rimbault, an eminent musical antiquary, thinks he has found the original tune in john hilton's "catch that, catch can" ( ). the deeds of sir stephen forster, fishmonger, and mayor (henry vi.), who by his will left money to rebuild newgate, we have mentioned elsewhere (p. ). sir godfrey boleine, lord mayor, (henry vi.), was grandfather to thomas, earl of wiltshire, the grandfather of queen elizabeth. he was a mercer in the old jewry, and left by his will £ , to the poor householders of london, and £ , to the poor householders in norfolk (his native county), besides large legacies to the london prisons, lazar-houses, and hospitals. such were the citizens, from whom half our aristocracy has sprung. sir godfrey fielding, a mercer in milk street, lord mayor in (henry vi.), was the ancestor of the earls of denbigh, and a privy councillor of the king. in edward iv.'s reign, when the lancastrians, under the bastard falconbridge, stormed the city in two places, but were eventually bravely repulsed by the citizens, edward, in gratitude, knighted the mayor, sir john stockton, and twelve of the aldermen. in (the same reign) bartholomew james (draper) had sheriff bayfield fined £ (about £ , of our money) for kneeling too close to him while at prayers in st. paul's, and for reviling him when complained of. there was a pestilence raging at the time, and the mayor was afraid of contagion. the money went, we presume, to build ten city conduits, then much wanted. the lord mayor in , sir thomas coke (draper), ancestor of lord bacon, earl fitzwilliam, the marquis of salisbury, and viscount cranbourne, being a lancastrian, suffered much from the rapacious tyranny of edward iv. the very year he was made knight of the bath, coke was sent to the bread street compter, afterwards to the bench, and illegally fined £ , to the king and £ to the queen. two aldermen also had their goods seized, and were fined , marks. in this greedy king sent to sir william hampton, lord mayor, to extort benevolences, or subsidies. the mayor gave £ , the aldermen twenty marks, the poorer persons £ each. in , king edward sent the mayor, william herriot (draper), for the good he had done to trade, two harts, six bucks, and a tun of wine, for a banquet to the lady mayoress and the aldermen's wives at drapers' hall. at richard iii.'s coronation ( ), the lord mayor, sir edmund shaw, attended as cup-bearer with great pomp, and the mayor's claim to this honour was formally allowed and put on record. shaw was a goldsmith, and supplied the usurper with most of his plate. sir william horn, lord mayor in , had been knighted on bosworth field by henry vii., for whom he fought against the "ravening richard." this mayor's real name was littlesbury (we are told), but edward iv. had nicknamed him horn, from his peculiar skill on that instrument. the year henry vii. landed at milford haven two london mayors died. in (henry vii.), sir henry colet, father of good dean colet, who founded st. paul's school, was mayor. colet chose john percival (merchant taylor), his carver, sheriff, by drinking to him in a cup of wine, according to custom, and perceval forthwith sat down at the mayor's table. percival was afterwards mayor in . henry vii. was remorseless in squeezing money out of the city by every sort of expedient. he fined alderman capel £ , ; he made the city buy a confirmation of their charter for £ , ; in he threw thomas knesworth, who had been mayor the year before, and his sheriff, into the marshalsea, and fined them £ , ; and the year after, he imprisoned sir lawrence aylmer, mayor in the previous year, and extorted money from him. he again amerced alderman capel (ancestor of the earls of essex) £ , , and on his bold resistance, threw him into the tower for life. in (henry vii.) john matthew earned the distinction of being the first, but probably not the last, bachelor lord mayor; and a cheerless mayoralty it must have been. in sir john shaw held the lord mayor's feast for the first time in the guildhall; and the same hospitable mayor built the guildhall kitchen at his own expense. henry viii.'s mayors were worshipful men, and men of renown. to walworth and whittington was now to be added the illustrious name of gresham. sir richard gresham, who was mayor in the year , was the father of the illustrious founder of the royal exchange. he was of a norfolk family, and with his three brothers carried on trade as mercers. he became a gentleman usher extraordinary to henry viii., and at the tearing to pieces of the monasteries by that monarch, he obtained, by judicious courtliness, no less than five successive grants of church lands. he advocated the construction of an exchange, encouraged freedom of trade, and is said to have invented bills of exchange. in he was nearly expelled the common council for trying, at wolsey's instigation, to obtain a benevolence from the citizens. it is greatly to gresham's credit that he helped wolsey after his fall, and henry, who with all his faults was magnanimous, liked gresham none the worse for that. in the interesting "paston letters" (henry vi.), there are eleven letters of one of gresham's norfolk ancestors, dated from london, and the seal a grasshopper. sir richard gresham died (edward vi.), at bethnal green, and was buried in the church of st. lawrence jewry. gresham's daughter married an ancestor of the marquis of bath, and the duke of buckingham and lord braybrooke are said to be descendants of his brother john, so much has good city blood enriched our proud norman aristocracy, and so often has the full city purse gone to fill again the exhausted treasury of the old knighthood. in , sir martin bowes (goldsmith) was mayor, and lent henry viii., whose purse was a cullender, the sum of £ . sir martin was butler at elizabeth's coronation, and left the goldsmiths' company his gold fee cup, out of which the queen drank. in our history of the goldsmiths' company we have mentioned his portrait in goldsmiths' hall. alderman william fitzwilliam, in this reign, also nobly stood by his patron, wolsey, after his fall; for which the king, saying he had too few such servants, knighted him and made him a privy councillor. when he died, in the year , he was knight of the garter, lord keeper of the privy seal, and chancellor of the duchy of lancaster. he left £ to dower poor maidens, and his best "standing cup" to his brethren, the merchant taylors. in the king invited the lord mayor, sir raphe warren (an ancestor of cromwell and hampden, says mr. orridge), the aldermen, and forty of the principal citizens, to the christening of the princess elizabeth, at greenwich; and at the ceremony the scarlet gowns and gold chains made a gallant show. in edward vi.'s reign, the greshams again came to the front. in , sir john gresham, brother of the sir richard before mentioned, obtained from henry viii. the hospital of st. mary bethlehem as an asylum for lunatics. in this reign the city corporation lands (as being given by papists for superstitious uses) were all claimed for the king's use, to the amount of £ , per annum. the london corporation, unable to resist this tyranny, had to retrieve them at the rate of twenty years' purchase. sir andrew judd (skinner), mayor in , was ancestor of lord teynham, viscount strangford, chief baron smythe, &c. among the bequests in his will were "the sandhills at the back side of holborn," then let for a few pounds a year, now worth nearly £ , per annum. in , sir thomas white (merchant taylor) kept the citizens loyal to queen mary during wyatt's rebellion, the brave queen coming to guildhall and personally re-assuring the citizens. white was the son of a poor clothier; at the age of twelve he was apprenticed to a london tailor, who left him £ to begin the world with, and by thrift and industry he rose to wealth. he was the generous founder of st. john's college, oxford. according to webster, the poet, he had been directed in a dream to found a college upon a spot where he should find two bodies of an elm springing from one root. discovering no such tree at cambridge, he went to oxford, and finding a likely tree in gloucester hall garden, began at once to enlarge and widen that college; but soon after he found the real tree of his dream, outside the north gate of oxford, and on that spot he founded st. john's college. in the reign of elizabeth, many great-hearted citizens served the office of mayor. again we shall see how little even the best monarchs of these days understood the word "liberty," and how the constant attacks upon their purses taught the london citizens to appreciate and to defend their rights. in , sir william hewet (clothworker) was mayor, whose income is estimated at £ , per annum. hewet lived on london bridge, and one day a nurse playing with his little daughter anne, at one of the broad lattice windows overlooking the thames, by accident let the child fall. a young apprentice, named osborne seeing the accident, leaped from a window into the fierce current below the arches, and saved the infant. years after, many great courtiers, including the earl of shrewsbury, came courting fair mistress anne, the rich citizen's heiress. sir william, her father, said to one and all, "no; osborne saved her, and osborne shall have her." and so osborne did, and became a rich citizen and lord mayor in . he is the direct ancestor of the first duke of leeds. there is a portrait of the brave apprentice at kiveton house, in yorkshire. he dwelt in philpot lane, in his father-in-law's house, and was buried at st. dionis backchurch, fenchurch street. in lord mayor lodge got into a terrible scrape with queen elizabeth, who brooked no opposition, just or unjust. one of the queen's insolent purveyors, to insult the mayor, seized twelve capons out of twenty-four destined for the mayor's table. the indignant mayor took six of the twelve fowls, called the purveyor a scurvy knave, and threatened him with the biggest pair of irons in newgate. in spite of the intercession of lord robert dudley (leicester) and secretary cecil, lodge was fined and compelled to resign his gown. lodge was the father of the poet, and engaged in the negro trade. lodge's successor, sir thomas ramsay, died childless, and his widow left large sums to christ's hospital and other charities, and £ , to each of five city companies; also sums for the relief of poor maimed soldiers, poor cambridge scholars, and for poor maids' marriages. sir rowland heyward (clothworker), mayor in . he was an ancestor of the marquis of bath, and the father of sixteen children, all of whom are displayed on his monument in st. alphege, london wall. sir wolston dixie, (skinner) was the first mayor whose pageant was published. it forms the first chapter of the many volumes relating to pageants collected by that eminent antiquary, the late mr. fairholt, and bequeathed by him to the society of antiquaries. dixie assisted in building peterhouse college, cambridge. in , sir john spencer (clothworker)--"rich spencer," as he was called--kept his mayoralty at crosby place, bishopsgate. his only daughter married lord compton, who, tradition says, smuggled her away from her father's house in a large flap-topped baker's basket. a curious letter from this imperious lady is extant, in which she only requests an annuity of £ , , a like sum for her privy purse, £ , for jewels, her debts to be paid, horses, coach, and female attendants, and closes by praying her husband, when he becomes an earl, to allow her £ , more with double attendance. these young citizen ladies were somewhat exacting. from this lady's husband the marquis of northampton is descended. at the funeral of "rich spencer," , persons followed in mourning cloaks and gowns. he died worth, mr. timbs calculates, above £ , in the year of his mayoralty. there was a famine in england in his time, and at his persuasion the city companies bought corn abroad, and stored it in the bridge house for the poor. [illustration: whittington's almshouses, college hill (_see page _).] in , sir thomas campbell (ironmonger), mayor, the city show was revived by the king's order. in , sir william craven (draper) was mayor. as a poor yorkshire boy from wharfedale, he came up to london in a carrier's cart to seek his fortune. he was the father of that brave soldier of gustavus adolphus who is supposed to have privately married the widowed queen of bohemia, james i.'s daughter. there is a tradition that during an outbreak of the plague in london, craven took horse and galloped westward till he reached a lonely farmhouse on the berkshire downs, and there built ashdown house. the local legend is that four avenues led to the house from the four points of the compass, and that in each of the four walls there was a window, so that if the plague got in at one side it might go out at the other. in , sir john swinnerton (merchant taylor), mayor, entertained the count palatine, who had come over to marry king james's daughter. the archbishop of canterbury, the bishop of london, and many earls and barons were present. the lord mayor and his brethren presented the palsgrave with a large basin and ewer, weighing ounces, and two great gilt loving pots. the bridegroom elect gained great popularity by saluting the lady mayoress and her train. the pageant was written by the poet dekker. in this reign king james, colonising ulster with protestants, granted the province with londonderry and coleraine to the corporation, the twelve great and old companies taking many of the best. in , sir thomas middleton (goldsmith), basinghall street, brother of sir hugh middleton, went in state to see the water enter the new river head at islington, to the sound of drums and trumpets and the roar of guns. in , sir sebastian harvey (ironmonger) was mayor: during his show sir walter raleigh was executed, the time being specially chosen to draw away the sympathisers "from beholding," as aubrey says, "the tragedy of the gallantest worthy that england ever bred." [illustration: osborne's leap (_see page _).] in sir richard gurney (clothworker), and a sturdy royalist, entertained that promise-breaking king, charles i., at the guildhall. the entertainment consisted of dishes. gurney's master, a silk mercer in cheapside, left him his shop and £ , . the parliament ejected him from the mayoralty and sent him to the tower, where he lingered for seven years till he died, rather than pay a fine of £ , , for refusing to publish an act for the abolition of royalty. he was president of christ's hospital. his successor, sir isaac pennington (fishmonger), was one of the king's judges, who died in the tower; sir thomas atkins (mercer), mayor in , sat on the trial of charles i.; sir thomas adams (draper), mayor in , was also sent to the tower for refusing to publish the abolition of royalty act. he founded an arabic lecture at cambridge, and a grammar-school at wem, in shropshire. sir john gayer (fishmonger), mayor in , was committed to the tower in as a royalist, as also was sir abraham reynardson, mayor in . sir thomas foot (grocer), mayor in , was knighted by cromwell; two of his daughters married knights, and two baronets. earl onslow is one of his descendants. sir christopher packe (draper), mayor in , became a member of cromwell's house of lords as lord packe, and from him sir dennis packe, the peninsula general, was descended. sir robert tichborne (skinner), mayor in , sat on the trial of charles i., and signed the death warrant. sir richard chiverton (skinner), mayor in , was the first cornish mayor of london. he was knighted both by cromwell and by charles ii., which says something for his political dexterity. sir john ireton (clothworker), mayor in , was brother of general ireton, cromwell's son-in-law. the period of the commonwealth did not furnish many mayors worth recording here. in , the year of marston moor, the city gave a splendid entertainment to both houses of parliament, the earls of essex, warwick, and manchester, the scotch commissioners, cromwell, and the principal officers of the army. they heard a sermon at christ church, newgate street, and went on foot to guildhall. the lord mayor and aldermen led the procession, and as they passed through cheapside, some popish pictures, crucifixes, and relics were burnt on a scaffold. the object of the banquet was to prevent a letter of the king's being read in the common hall. on january th the lord mayor gave a banquet to the house of commons, cromwell, and the chief officers, to commemorate the rout of the dangerous levellers. in , the year cromwell was chosen lord protector, he dined at the guildhall, and knighted the mayor, john fowke (haberdasher). the reign of charles ii. and the royalist reaction brought more tyranny and more trouble to the city. the king tried to be as despotic as his father, and resolved to break the whig love of freedom that prevailed among the citizens. loyal as some of the citizens seem to have been, king charles scarcely deserved much favour at their hands. a more reckless tyrant to the city had never sat on the english throne. because they refused a loan of £ , on bad security, the king imprisoned twenty of the principal citizens, and required the city to fit out ships. for a trifling riot in the city (a mere pretext), the mayor and aldermen were amerced in the sum of £ , . for the pretended mismanagement of their irish estates, the city was condemned to the loss of their irish possessions and fined £ , . four aldermen were imprisoned for not disclosing the names of friends who refused to advance money to the king; and, finally, to the contempt of all constitutional law, the citizens were forbidden to petition the king for the redress of grievances. did such a king deserve mercy at the hands of the subjects he had oppressed, and time after time spurned and deceived? in , the year after the restoration, sir john frederick (grocer), mayor, revived the old customs of bartholomew's fair. the first day there was a wrestling match in moorfields, the mayor and aldermen being present; the second day, archery, after the usual proclamation and challenges through the city; the third day, a hunt. the fair people considered the three days a great hindrance and loss to them. pepys, the delightful chronicler of these times, went to this lord mayor's dinner, where he found "most excellent venison; but it made me almost sick, not daring to drink wine." amidst the factions and the vulgar citizens of this reign, sir john lawrence (grocer), mayor in , stands out a burning and a shining light. when the dreadful plague was mowing down the terrified people of london in great swathes, this brave man, instead of flying quietly, remained at his house in st. helen's, bishopsgate, enforcing wise regulations for the sufferers, and, what is more, himself seeing them executed. he supported during this calamity , discharged servants. in (the great fire) the mayor, sir thomas bludworth (vintner), whose daughter married judge jeffries, is described by pepys as quite losing his head during the great catastrophe, and running about exclaiming, "lord, what can i do?" and holding his head in an exhausted and helpless way. in sir george waterman (mayor, son of a southwark vintner) entertained charles ii. at his inaugural dinner. in the pageant on this occasion, there was a forest, with animals, wood nymphs, &c., and in front two negroes riding on panthers. near milk street end was a platform, on which jacob hall, the great rope-dancer of the day, and his company danced and tumbled. there is a mention of hall, perhaps on this occasion, in the "state poems:"-- "when jacob hall on his high rope shows tricks, the dragon flutters, the lord mayor's horse kicks; the cheapside crowds and pageants scarcely know which most t'admire--hall, hobby-horse, or bow." in sir robert vyner (goldsmith) was mayor, and charles ii., who was frequently entertained by the city, dined with him. "the wine passed too freely, the guests growing noisy, and the mayor too familiar, the king," says a correspondent of steele's (_spectator_, ), "with a hint to the company to disregard ceremonial, stole off to his coach, which was waiting in guildhall yard. but the mayor, grown bold with wine, pursued the 'merry monarch,' and, catching him by the hand, cried out, with a vehement oath, 'sir, you shall stay and take t'other bottle.' the 'merry monarch' looked kindly at him over his shoulder, and with a smile and graceful air (for i saw him at the time, and do now) repeated the line of the old song, 'he that is drunk is as great as a king,' and immediately turned back and complied with his host's request." sir robert clayton (draper), mayor in , was one of the most eminent citizens in charles ii.'s reign. the friend of algernon sidney and lord william russell, he sat in seven parliaments as representative of the city; was more than thirty years alderman of cheap ward, and ultimately father of the city; the mover of the celebrated exclusion bill (seconded by lord william russell); and eminent alike as a patriot, a statesman, and a citizen. he projected the mathematical school at christ's hospital, built additions there, helped to rebuild the house, and left the sum of £ , towards its funds. he was a director of the bank of england, and governor of the irish society. he was mayor during the pretended popish plot, and was afterwards marked out for death by king james, but saved by the intercession (of all men in the world!) of jeffries. this "prince of citizens," as evelyn calls him, had been apprenticed to a scrivener. he lived in great splendour in old jewry, where charles and the duke of york supped with him during his mayoralty. there is a portrait of him, worthy of kneller, in drapers' hall, and another, with carved wood frame by gibbons, in the guildhall library. in , when the reaction came and the court party triumphed, gaining a verdict of £ , against alderman pilkington (skinner), sheriff, for slandering the duke of york, sir patience ward (merchant taylor), mayor in , was sentenced to the ignominy of the pillory. in (sir william pritchard, merchant taylor, mayor), dudley north, brother of lord keeper north, was one of the sheriffs chosen by the court party to pack juries. he was celebrated for his splendid house in basinghall street, and macaulay tells us "that, in the days of judicial butchery, carts loaded with the legs and arms of quartered whigs were, to the great discomposure of his lady, 'driven to his door for orders.'" in sir john shorter (goldsmith), appointed mayor by james ii., met his death in a singular manner. he was on his way to open bartholomew fair, by reading the proclamation at the entrance to cloth fair, smithfield. it was the custom for the mayors to call by the way on the keeper of newgate, and there partake on horseback of a "cool tankard" of wine, spiced with nutmeg and sweetened with sugar. in receiving the tankard sir john let the lid flop down, his horse started, he was thrown violently, and died the next day. this custom ceased in the second mayoralty of sir matthew wood, . sir john was maternal grandfather of horace walpole. sir john houblon (grocer), mayor in (william iii.), is supposed by mr. orridge to have been a brother of abraham houblon, first governor of the bank of england, and lord of the admiralty, and great-grandfather of the late viscount palmerston. sir humphrey edwin (skinner), mayor in , enraged the tories by omitting the show on religious grounds, and riding to a conventicle with all the insignia of office, an event ridiculed by swift in his "tale of a tub," and pinkethman in his comedy of _love without interest_ ( ), where he talks of "my lord mayor going to pinmakers' hall, to hear a snivelling and separatist divine divide and subdivide into the two-and-thirty points of the compass." in the mayor was sir thomas abney (fishmonger), one of the first directors of the bank of england, best known as a pious and consistent man, who for thirty-six years kept dr. watts, as his guest and friend, in his mansion at stoke newington. "no business or festivity," remarks mr. timbs, "was allowed to interrupt sir thomas's religious observances. the very day he became lord mayor he withdrew from the guildhall after supper, read prayers at home, and then returned to his guests." in , sir samuel dashwood (vintner) entertained queen anne at the guildhall, and his was the last pageant ever publicly performed, one for the show of being stopped by the death of prince george of denmark the day before. "the show," says mr. j.g. nicholls, "cost £ s., poor settle receiving £ for his crambo verses." a daughter of this dashwood became the wife of the fifth lord brooke, and an ancestor of the present earl of warwick. sir john parsons, mayor in , was a remarkable person; for he gave up his official fees towards the payment of the city debts. it was remarked of sir samuel gerrard, mayor in , that three of his name and family were lord mayors in three queens' reigns--mary, elizabeth, and anne. sir gilbert heathcote (mayor in ), ancestor of lord aveland and viscount donne, was the last mayor who rode in his procession on horseback; for after this time, the mayors, abandoning the noble career of horsemanship, retired into their gilt gingerbread coach. sir william humphreys, mayor in (george i.), was father of the city, and alderman of cheap for twenty-six years. of his lady mayoress an old story is told relative to the custom of the sovereign kissing the lady mayoress upon visiting guildhall. queen anne broke down this observance; but upon the accession of george i., on his first visit to the city, from his known character for gallantry, it was expected that once again a lady mayoress was to be kissed by the king on the steps of the guildhall. but he had no feeling of admiration for english beauty. "it was only," says a writer in the _athenæum_, "after repeated assurance that saluting a lady, on her appointment to a confidential post near some persons of the royal family, was the sealing, as it were, of her appointment, that he expressed his readiness to kiss lady cowper on her nomination as lady of the bed-chamber to the princess of wales. at his first appearance at guildhall, the admirer of madame kielmansegge respected the new observance established by queen anne; yet poor lady humphreys, the mayoress, hoped, at all events, to receive the usual tribute from royalty from the lips of the princess of wales. but that strong-minded woman, caroline dorothea wilhelmina, steadily looked away from the mayor's consort. she would not do what queen anne had not thought worth the doing; and lady humphreys, we are sorry to say, stood upon her unstable rights, and displayed a considerable amount of bad temper and worse behaviour. she wore a train of black velvet, then considered one of the privileges of city royalty, and being wronged of one, she resolved to make the best of that which she possessed--bawling, as ladies, mayoresses, and women generally should never do--bawling to her page to hold up her train, and sweeping away therewith before the presence of the amused princess herself. the incident altogether seems to have been too much for the good but irate lady's nerves; and unable or unwilling, when dinner was announced, to carry her stupendous bouquet, emblem of joy and welcome, she flung it to a second page who attended on her state, with a scream of 'boy, take my _bucket_!' in _her_ view of things, the sun had set on the glory of mayoralty for ever. "the king was as much amazed as the princess had been amused; and a well-inspired wag of the court whispered an assurance which increased his perplexity. it was to the effect that the angry lady was only a mock lady mayoress, whom the unmarried mayor had hired for the occasion, borrowing her for that day only. the assurance was credited for a time, till persons more discreet than the wag convinced the court party that lady humphreys was really no counterfeit. she was no beauty either; and the same party, when they withdrew from the festive scene, were all of one mind, that she must needs be what she seemed, for if the lord mayor had been under the necessity of borrowing, he would have borrowed altogether another sort of woman." this is one of the earliest stories connecting the city with an idea of vulgarity and purse pride. the stories commenced with the court tories, when the city began to resist court oppression. a leap now takes us on in the city chronicles. in (the year george i. died), the royal family, the ministry, besides nobles and foreign ministers, were entertained by sir edward becher, mayor (draper). george ii. ordered the sum of £ , to be paid to the sheriffs for the relief of insolvent debtors. the feast cost £ , . in (george ii.), john barber--swift, pope, and bolingbroke's friend--the jacobite printer who defeated a scheme of a general excise, was mayor. barber erected the monument to butler, the poet, in westminster abbey, who, by the way, had written a very sarcastic "character of an alderman." barber's epitaph on the poet's monument is in high-flown latin, which drew from samuel wesley these lines:-- "while butler, needy wretch! was yet alive, no generous patron would a dinner give. see him, when starved to death, and turned to dust, presented with a monumental bust. the poet's fate is here in emblem shown-- he asked for bread, and he received a stone." in (george ii.) sir micajah perry (haberdasher) laid the first stone of the mansion house. sir samuel pennant (mayor in ), kinsman of the london historian, died of gaol fever, caught at newgate, and which at the same time carried off an alderman, two judges, and some disregarded commonalty. the great bell of st. paul's tolled on the death of the lord mayor, according to custom. sir christopher gascoigne ( ), an ancestor of the present viscount cranbourne, was the first lord mayor who resided at the mansion house. in that memorable year ( ) when sir samuel fludyer was elected, king george iii. and queen charlotte (the young couple newly crowned) came to the city to see the lord mayor's show from mr. barclay's window, as we have already described in our account of cheapside; and the ancient pageant was so far revived that the fishmongers ventured on a st. peter, a dolphin, and two mermaids, and the skinners on indian princes dressed in furs. sir samuel fludyer was a cloth hall factor, and the city's scandalous chronicle says that he originally came up to london attending clothier's pack-horses, from the west country; his second wife was granddaughter of a nobleman, and niece of the earl of cardigan. his sons married into the montagu and westmoreland families, and his descendants are connected with the earls onslow and brownlow; and he was very kind to young romilly, his kinsman (afterwards the excellent sir samuel). the "city biography" says fludyer died from vexation at a reprimand given him by the lord chancellor, for having carried on a contraband trade in scarlet cloth, to the prejudice of the east india company. sir samuel was the ground landlord of fludyer street, westminster, cleared away for the new foreign office. in and again in that bold citizen, william beckford, a friend of the great chatham, was lord mayor. he was descended from a maidenhead tailor, one of whose sons made a fortune in jamaica. at westminster school he had acquired the friendship of lord mansfield and a rich earl. beckford united in himself the following apparently incongruous characters. he was an enormously rich jamaica planter, a merchant, a member of parliament, a militia officer, a provincial magistrate, a london alderman, a man of pleasure, a man of taste, an orator, and a country gentleman. he opposed government on all occasions, especially in bringing over hessian troops, and in carrying on a german war. his great dictum was that under the house of hanover englishmen for the first time had been able to be free, and for the first time had determined to be free. he presented to the king a remonstrance against a false return made at the middlesex election. the king expressed dissatisfaction at the remonstrance, but beckford presented another, and to the astonishment of the court, added the following impromptu speech:-- "permit me, sire, to observe," are said to have been the concluding remarks of the insolent citizen, "that whoever has already dared, or shall hereafter endeavour by false insinuations and suggestions to alienate your majesty's affections from your loyal subjects in general, and from the city of london in particular, and to withdraw your confidence in, and regard for, your people, is an enemy to your majesty's person and family, a violator of the public peace, and a betrayer of our happy constitution as it was established at the _glorious and necessary revolution_." at these words the king's countenance was observed to flush with anger. he still, however, presented a dignified silence; and accordingly the citizens, after having been permitted to kiss the king's hand, were forced to return dissatisfied from the presence-chamber. this speech, which won lord chatham's "admiration, thanks, and affection," and was inscribed on the pedestal of beckford's statue erected in guildhall, has been the subject of bitter disputes. isaac reed boldly asserts every word was written by horne tooke, and that horne tooke himself said so. gifford, with his usual headlong partisanship, says the same; but there is every reason to suppose that the words are those uttered by beckford with but one slight alteration. beckford died, a short time after making this speech, of a fever, caught by riding from london to fonthill, his wiltshire estate. his son, the novelist and voluptuary, had a long minority, and succeeded at last to a million ready money and £ , a year, only to end life a solitary, despised, exiled man. one of his daughters married the duke of hamilton. [illustration: a lord mayor and his lady (middle of seventeenth century). _from an old print._] the right hon. thomas harley, lord mayor in , was a brother of the earl of oxford. he turned wine-merchant, and married the daughter of his father's steward, according to the scandalous chronicles in the "city biography." he is said, in partnership with mr. drummond, to have made £ , by taking a government contract to pay the english army in america with foreign gold. he was for many years "the father of the city." harley first rendered himself famous in the city by seizing the boot and petticoat which the mob were burning opposite the mansion house, in derision of lord bute and the princess-dowager, at the time the sheriffs were burning the celebrated _north briton_. the mob were throwing the papers about as matter of diversion, and one of the bundles fell, unfortunately, with considerable force, against the front glass of mr. sheriff harley's chariot, which it shattered to pieces. this gave the first alarm; the sheriffs retired into the mansion house, and a man was taken up and brought there for examination, as a person concerned in the riot. the man appeared to be a mere idle spectator; but the lord mayor informed the court that, in order to try the temper of the mob, he had ordered one of his own servants to be dressed in the clothes of the supposed offender, and conveyed to the poultry compter, so that if a rescue should be effected, the prisoner would still be in custody, and the real disposition of the people discovered. however, everything was peaceable, and the course of justice was not interrupted, nor did any insult accompany the commitment; whereupon the prisoner was discharged. what followed, in the actual burning of the seditious paper, the lord mayor declared (according to the best information), arose from circumstances equally foreign to any illegal or violent designs. for these reasons his lordship concluded by declaring that, with the greatest respect for the sheriffs, and a firm belief that they would have done their duty in spite of any danger, he should put a negative upon giving the thanks of the city upon a matter that was not sufficiently important for a public and solemn acknowledgment, which ought only to follow the most eminent exertions of duty. [illustration: wilkes on his trial. (_from a contemporary print._)] in brass crosby (mayor) signalised himself by a patriotic resistance to court oppression, and the arbitrary proceedings of the house of commons. he was a sunderland solicitor, who had married his employer's widow, and settled in london. he married in all three wives, and is said to have received £ , by the three. shortly after crosby's election, the house of commons issued warrants against the printers of the _middlesex journal_ and the _gazetteer_, for presuming to give reports of the debates; but on being brought before alderman wilkes, he discharged them. the house then proceeded against the printer of the _evening post_, but crosby discharged him, and committed the messenger of the house for assault and false imprisonment. not long after, crosby appeared at the bar of the house, and defended what he had done; pleading strongly that by an act of william and mary no warrant could be executed in the city but by its ministers. wilkes also had received an order to attend at the bar of the house, but refused to comply with it, on the ground that no notice had been taken in the order of his being a member. the next day the lord mayor's clerk attended with the book of recognisances, and lord north having carried a motion that the recognisance be erased, the clerk was compelled to cancel it. most of the opposition indignantly rose and left the house, declaring that effacing a record was an act of the greatest despotism; and junius, in letter , wrote: "by mere violence, and without the shadow of right, they have expunged the record of a judicial proceeding." soon after this act, on the motion of welbore ellis, the mayor was committed to the tower. the people were furious; lord north lost his cocked hat, and even fox had his clothes torn; and the mob obtaining a rope, but for crosby's entreaties, would have hung the deputy sergeant-at-arms. the question was simply whether the house had the right to despotically arrest and imprison, and to supersede trial by jury. on the th of may the session terminated, and the lord mayor was released. the city was illuminated at night, and there were great rejoicings. the victory was finally won. "the great end of the contest," says mr. orridge, "was obtained. from that day to the present the house of commons has never ventured to assail the liberty of the press, or to prevent the publication of the parliamentary debates." at his inauguration dinner in guildhall, there was a superabundance of good things; notwithstanding which, a great number of young fellows, after the dinner was over, being heated with liquor, got upon the hustings, and broke all the bottles and glasses within their reach. at this time the court and ministry were out of favour in the city; and till the year , when halifax took as the legend of his mayoralty "justice is the ornament and protection of liberty," no member of the government received an invitation to dine at guildhall. chapter xxxv. the lord mayors of london (_continued_). john wilkes: his birth and parentage--the _north briton_--duel with martin--his expulsion--personal appearance--anecdotes of wilkes--a reason for making a speech--wilkes and the king--the lord mayor at the gordon riots--"soap-suds" _versus_ "bar"--sir william curtis and his kilt--a gambling lord mayor--sir william staines, bricklayer and lord mayor--"patty-pan" birch--sir matthew wood--waithman--sir peter laurie and the "dregs of the people"--recent lord mayors. in that clever rascal, john wilkes, ascended the civic throne. we shall so often meet this unscrupulous demagogue about london, that we will not dwell upon him here at much length. wilkes was born in clerkenwell, . his father, israel wilkes, was a rich distiller (as his father and grandfather had been), who kept a coach and six, and whose house was a resort of persons of rank, merchants, and men of letters. young wilkes grew up a man of pleasure, squandered his wife's fortune in gambling and other fashionable vices, and became a notorious member of the hell fire club at medmenham abbey. he now eagerly strove for place, asking mr. pitt to find him a post in the board of trade, or to send him as ambassador to constantinople. finding his efforts useless, he boldly avowed his intention of becoming notorious by assailing government. in , in his scurrilous paper, the _north britain_, he violently abused the princess dowager and her favourite lord bute, who were supposed to influence the young king, and in the celebrated no. he accused the ministers of putting a lie in the king's mouth. the government illegally arresting him by an arbitrary "general warrant," he was committed to the tower, and at once became the martyr of the people and the idol of the city. released by chief-justice pratt, he was next proceeded against for an obscene poem, the "essay on woman." he fought a duel with samuel martin, a brother m.p., who had insulted him, and was expelled the house in . he then went to france in the height of his popularity, having just obtained a verdict in his favour upon the question of the warrant. on his return to england, he daringly stood for the representation of london, and was elected for middlesex. riots took place, a man was shot by the soldiers, and wilkes was committed to the king's bench prison. after a long contest with the commons, wilkes was expelled the house, and being re-elected for middlesex, the election was declared void. eventually wilkes became chamberlain of the city, lectured refractory apprentices like a father, and tamed down to an ordinary man of the world, still shameless, ribald, irreligious, but, as gibbon says, "a good companion with inexhaustible spirits, infinite wit and humour, and a great deal of knowledge." he quietly took his seat for middlesex in , and eight years afterwards the resolutions against him were erased from the journals of the house. he died in , at his house in grosvenor square. wilkes' sallow face, sardonic squint, and projecting jaw, are familiar to us from hogarth's terrible caricature. he generally wore the dress of a colonel of the militia--scarlet and buff, with a cocked hat and rosette, bag wig, and military boots, and o'keefe describes seeing him walking in from his house at kensington gore, disdaining all offers of a coach. dr. franklin, when in england, describes the mob stopping carriages, and compelling their inmates to shout "wilkes and liberty!" for the first fifteen miles out of london on the winchester road, he says, and on nearly every door or window-shutter, "no. " was chalked. by many tory writers wilkes is considered latterly to have turned his coat, but he seems to us to have been perfectly consistent to the end. he was always a whig with aristocratic tastes. when oppression ceased he ceased to protest. most men grow more conservative as their minds weaken, but wilkes was always resolute for liberty. a few anecdotes of wilkes are necessary for seasoning to our chapter. horne tooke having challenged wilkes, who was then sheriff of london and middlesex, received the following laconic reply: "sir, i do not think it my business to cut the throat of every desperado that may be tired of his life; but as i am at present high sheriff of the city of london, it may shortly happen that i shall have an opportunity of attending you in my civil capacity, in which case i will answer for it that _you shall have no ground_ to complain of my endeavours to serve you." this is one of the bitterest retorts ever uttered. wilkes's notoriety led to his head being painted as a public-house sign, which, however, did not invariably raise the original in estimation. an old lady, in passing a public-house distinguished as above, her companion called her attention to the sign. "ah!" replied she, "wilkes swings everywhere but where he ought." wilkes's squint was proverbial; yet even this natural obliquity he turned to humorous account. when wilkes challenged lord townshend, he said, "your lordship is one of the handsomest men in the kingdom, and i am one of the ugliest. yet, give me but half an hour's start, and i will enter the lists against you with any woman you choose to name." once, when the house seemed resolved not to hear him, and a friend urged him to desist--"speak," he said, "i must, for my speech has been in print for the newspapers this half-hour." fortunately for him, he was gifted with a coolness and effrontery which were only equalled by his intrepidity, all three of which qualities constantly served his turn in the hour of need. as an instance of his audacity, it may be stated that on one occasion he and another person put forth, from a private room in a tavern, a proclamation commencing--"we, the people of england," &c., and concluding--"by order of the meeting." another amusing instance of his effrontery occurred on the hustings at brentford, when he and colonel luttrell were standing there together as rival candidates for the representation of middlesex in parliament. looking down with great apparent apathy on the sea of human beings, consisting chiefly of his own votaries and friends, which stretched beneath him--"i wonder," he whispered to his opponent, "whether among that crowd the fools or the knaves predominate?" "i will tell them what you say," replied the astonished luttrell, "and thus put an end to you." perceiving that wilkes treated the threat with the most perfect indifference--"surely," he added, "you don't mean to say you could stand here one hour after i did so?" "why not?" replied wilkes; "it is _you_ who would not be alive one instant after." "how so?" inquired luttrell. "because," said wilkes, "i should merely affirm that it was a fabrication, and they would destroy you in the twinkling of an eye." during his latter days wilkes not only became a courtier, but was a frequent attendant at the levees of george iii. on one of these occasions the king happened to inquire after his old friend "sergeant glynn," who had been wilkes's counsel during his former seditious proceedings. "_my friend_, sir!" replied wilkes; "he is no friend of mine; he was a wilkite, sir, which i never was." he once dined with george iv. when prince of wales, when overhearing the prince speak in rather disparaging language of his father, with whom he was then notoriously on bad terms, he seized an opportunity of proposing the health of the king. "why, wilkes," said the prince, "how long is it since you became so loyal?" "ever since, sir," was the reply, "i had the honour of becoming acquainted with your royal highness." alderman sawbridge (framework knitter), mayor in , on his return from a state visit to kew with all his retinue, was stopped and stripped by a single highwayman. the swordbearer did not even attempt to hew down the robber. in , alderman kennet (vintner) was mayor during the gordon riots. he had been a waiter and then a wine merchant, was a coarse and ignorant man, and displayed great incompetence during the week the rioters literally held london. when he was summoned to the house, to be examined about the riots, one of the members observed, "if you ring the bell, kennet will come in, of course." on being asked why he did not at the outset send for the _posse comitatus_, he replied he did not know where the fellow lived, or else he would. one evening at the alderman's club, he was sitting at whist, next mr. alderman pugh, a soap-boiler. "ring the bell, soap-suds," said kennet. "ring it yourself, bar," replied pugh; "you have been twice as much used to it as i have." there is no disgrace in having been a soap-boiler or a wine merchant; the true disgrace is to be ashamed of having carried on an honest business. alderman clarke (joiner), mayor in , succeeded wilkes as chamberlain in , and died aged ninety-two, in . this city patriarch was, when a mere boy, introduced to dr. johnson by that insufferable man, sir john hawkins. he met dr. percy, goldsmith, and hawkesworth, with the polyphemus of letters, at the "mitre." he was a member of the essex head club. "when he was sheriff in ," says mr. timbs, "he took dr. johnson to a judges' dinner at the old bailey, the judges being blackstone and eyre." the portrait of chamberlain clarke, in the court of common council in guildhall, is by sir thomas lawrence, and cost one hundred guineas. there is also a bust of mr. clarke, by sievier, at the guildhall, which was paid for by a subscription of the city officers. alderman boydell, mayor in , we have described fully elsewhere. he presided over cheap ward for twenty-three years. nearly opposite his house, , cheapside, is no. , which, before the present mansion house was built, was used occasionally as the lord mayor's residence. sir james saunderson (draper), from whose curious book of official expenses we quote in our chapter on the mansion house, was mayor in . it was this mayor who sent a posse of officers to disperse a radical meeting held at that "caldron of sedition," founders' hall, and among the persons expelled was a young orator named waithman, afterwards himself a mayor. - was made pleasant to the londoners by the abounding hospitality of sir william curtis, a portly baronet, who, while he delighted in a liberal feast and a cheerful glass, evidently thought them of small value unless shared by his friends. many years afterwards, during the reign of george iv., whose good graces he had secured, he went to scotland with the king, and made edinburgh merry by wearing a kilt in public. the wits laughed at his costume, complete even to the little dagger in the stocking, but told him he had forgotten one important thing--the spoon. in , sir benjamin hamet was fined £ , for refusing to serve as mayor. . alderman combe, mayor, the brewer, whom some saucy citizens nicknamed "mash-tub." but he loved gay company. among the members at brookes's who indulged in high play was combe, who is said to have made as much money in this way as he did by brewing. one evening, whilst he filled the office of lord mayor, he was busy at a full hazard table at brookes's, where the wit and dice-box circulated together with great glee, and where beau brummel was one of the party. "come, mash-tub," said brummel, who was the _caster_, "what do you _set_?" "twenty-five guineas," answered the alderman. "well, then," returned the beau, "have at the mare's pony" (twenty-five guineas). the beau continued to throw until he drove home the brewer's twelve ponies running, and then getting up and making him a low bow whilst pocketing the cash, he said, "thank you, alderman; for the future i shall never drink any porter but yours." "i wish, sir," replied the brewer, "that every other blackguard in london would tell me the same." combe was succeeded in the mayoralty by sir william staines. they were both smokers, and were seen one night at the mansion house lighting their pipes at the same taper; which reminds us of the two kings of brentford smelling at one nosegay. (timbs.) . sir william staines, mayor. he began life as a bricklayer's labourer, and by persevering steadily in the pursuit of one object, accumulated a large fortune, and rose to the state coach and the mansion house. he was alderman of cripplegate ward, where his memory is much respected. in jacob's well passage, in , he built nine houses for the reception of his aged and indigent friends. they are erected on both sides of the court, with nothing to distinguish them from the other dwelling-houses, and without ostentatious display of stone or other inscription to denote the poverty of the inhabitants. the early tenants were aged workmen, tradesmen, &c., several of whom staines had personally esteemed as his neighbours. one, a peruke-maker, had shaved the worthy alderman during forty years. staines also built barbican chapel, and rebuilt the "jacob's well" public-house, noted for dramatic representations. the alderman was an illiterate man, and was a sort of butt amongst his brethren. at one of the old bailey dinners, after a sumptuous repast of turtle and venison, sir william was eating a great quantity of butter with his cheese. "why, brother," said wilkes, "you lay it on with a _trowel_!" a son of sir william staines, who worked at his father's business (a builder), fell from a lofty ladder, and was killed; when the father, on being fetched to the spot, broke through the crowd, exclaiming, "see that the poor fellow's watch is safe!" his manners may be judged from the following anecdote. at a city feast, when sheriff, sitting by general tarleton, he thus addressed him, "eat away at the pines, general; for we must pay, eat or not eat." in , sir james shaw (scrivener), afterwards chamberlain, was a native of kilmarnock, where a marble statue of him has been erected. he was of the humblest birth, but amassed a fortune as a merchant, and sat in three parliaments for the city. he was extremely charitable, and was one of the first to assist the children of burns. at one of his mayoralty dinners, seven sons of george iii. were guests. sir william domville (stationer), mayor in , gave the great guildhall banquet to the prince regent and the allied sovereigns during the short and fallacious peace before waterloo. the dinner was served on plate valued at £ , , and the entire entertainment cost nearly £ , . the mayor was made baronet for this. in reigned alderman birch, the celebrated cornhill confectioner. the business at no. , cornhill was established by mr. horton, in the reign of george i. samuel birch, born in , was for many years a member of the common council, a city orator, an alderman of the ward of candlewick, a poet, a dramatic writer, and colonel of the city militia. his pastry was, after all, the best thing he did, though he laid the first stone of the london institution, and wrote the inscription to chantrey's statue of george iii., now in the council chamber, guildhall. "mr. patty-pan" was birch's nickname. theodore hook, or some clever versifier of the day, wrote an amusing skit on the vain, fussy, good-natured jack-of-all-trades, beginning-- "monsieur grown tired of fricassee, resolved old england now to see, the country where their roasted beef and puddings large pass all belief." wherever this inquisitive foreigner goes he find monsieur birch-- "guildhall at length in sight appears, an orator is hailed with cheers. 'zat orator, vat is hees name?' 'birch the pastrycook--the very same.'" he meets him again as militia colonel, poet, &c. &c., till he returns to france believing birch emperor of london. birch possessed considerable literary taste, and wrote poems and musical dramas, of which "the adopted child" remained a stock piece to our own time. the alderman used annually to send, as a present, a twelfth-cake to the mansion house. the upper portion of the house in cornhill has been rebuilt, but the ground-floor remains intact, a curious specimen of the decorated shop-front of the last century; and here are preserved two doorplates, inscribed "birch, successor to mr. horton," which are years old. alderman birch died in , having been succeeded in the business in cornhill in , by ring and brymer. in - , we come to a mayor of great notoriety, sir matthew wood, a druggist in falcon square. he was a devonshire man, who began life as a druggist's traveller, and distinguished himself by his exertions for poor persecuted queen caroline. he served as lord mayor two successive years, and represented the city in nine parliaments. his baronetcy was the first title conferred by queen victoria, in , as a reward for his political exertions. as a namesake of "jemmy wood," the miser banker of gloucester, he received a princely legacy. the vice-chancellor page wood (lord hatherley) was the mayor's second son. the following sonnet was contributed by charles and mary lamb to thelwall's newspaper, _the champion_. lamb's extreme opinions, as here enunciated, were merely assumed to please his friend thelwall, but there seems a genuine tone in his abuse of canning. perhaps it dated from the time when the "player's son" had ridiculed southey and coleridge:-- sonnet to matthew wood, esq., alderman and m.p. "hold on thy course uncheck'd, heroic wood! regardless what the player's son may prate, st. stephen's fool, the zany of debate-- who nothing generous ever understood. london's twice prætor! scorn the fool-born jest, the stage's scum, and refuse of the players-- stale topics against magistrates and mayors-- city and country both thy worth attest. bid him leave off his shallow eton wit, more fit to soothe the superficial ear of drunken pitt, and that pickpocket peer, when at their sottish orgies they did sit, hatching mad counsels from inflated vein, till england and the nations reeled with pain." in - alderman john atkins was host at the mansion house. in early life he had been a customs' tide-waiter, and was not remarkable for polished manners; but he was a shrewd and worthy man, filling the seat of justice with impartiality, and dispensing the hospitality of the city with an open hand. in john thomas thorpe (draper), mayor, officiated as chief butler at the coronation feast of george iv. he and twelve assistants presented the king wine in a golden cup, which the king returned as the cup-bearer's fees. being, however, a violent partisan of queen caroline, he was not created a baronet. in we come to another determined reformer, alderman waithman, whom we have already noticed in the chapter on fleet street. as a poor lad, he was adopted by his uncle, a bath linendraper. he began to appear as a politician in . when sheriff in , in quelling a tumult at knightsbridge, he was in danger from a life-guardsman's carbine, and at the funeral of queen caroline, a carbine bullet passed through his carriage in hyde park. many of his resolutions in the common council were, says mr. timbs, written by sir richard phillips, the bookseller. alderman garratt (goldsmith), mayor in , laid the first stone of london bridge, accompanied by the duke of york. at the banquet at the mansion house, guests were entertained in the egyptian hall, and nearly of the artillery company in the saloon. the monument was illuminated the same night. in , alderman key, mayor, roused great indignation in the city, by frightening william iv., and preventing his coming to the guildhall dinner. the show and inauguration dinner were in consequence omitted. in key was again mayor, and on the opening of london bridge was created a baronet. sir peter laurie, in - , though certainly possessing a decided opinion on most political questions, which he steadily, and no doubt honestly carried out, frequently incurred criticism on account of his extreme views, and a passion for "putting down" what he imagined social grievances. he lived to a green old age. in manners open, easy, and unassuming; in disposition, friendly and liberal; kind as a master, and unaffectedly hospitable as a host, he gained, as he deserved, "troops of friends," dying lamented and honoured, as he had lived, respected and beloved. (aleph.) when sir peter laurie, as lord mayor of london, entertained the judges and leaders of the bar, he exclaimed to his guests, in an after-dinner oration:-- "see before you the examples of myself, the chief magistrate of this great empire, and the chief justice of england sitting at my right hand; both now in the highest offices of the state, and both _sprung from the very dregs of the people_!" [illustration: birch's shop, cornhill (_see page _).] although lord tenterden possessed too much natural dignity and truthfulness to blush for his humble origin, he winced at hearing his excellent mother and her worthy husband, the canterbury wig-maker, thus described as belonging to "the very dregs of the people." . alderman kelly, lord mayor at the accession of her majesty, was born at chevening, in kent, and lived, when a youth, with alexander hogg, the publisher, in paternoster row, for £ a year wages. he slept under the shop-counter for the security of the premises. he was reported by his master to be "too slow" for the situation. mr. hogg, however, thought him "a bidable boy," and he remained. this incident shows upon what apparently trifling circumstances sometimes a man's future prospects depend. mr. kelly succeeded mr. hogg in the business, became alderman of the ward of farringdon within, and served as sheriff and mayor, the cost of which exceeded the fees and allowances by the sum of £ , . he lived upon the same spot sixty years, and died in his eighty-fourth year. he was a man of active benevolence, and reminded one of the pious lord mayor, sir thomas abney. he composed some prayers for his own use, which were subsequently printed for private distribution. (timbs.) sir john cowan (wax chandler), mayor in , was created a baronet after having entertained the queen at his mayoralty dinner. . sir chapman marshall, mayor. he received knighthood when sheriff, in ; and at a public dinner of the friends and supporters of the metropolitan charity schools, he addressed the company as follows:--"my lord mayor and gentlemen,--i want words to express the emotions of my heart. you see before you a humble individual who has been educated at a parochial school. i came to london in , without a shilling, without a friend. i have not had the benefit of a classical education; but this i will say, my lord mayor and gentlemen, that you witness in me what may be done by the earnest application of honest industry; and i trust that my example may induce others to aspire, by the same means, to the distinguished situation which i have now the honour to fill." self-made men are too fond of such glorifications, and forget how much wealth depends on good fortune and opportunity. [illustration: the stocks' market, site of the mansion house. (_from an old print._) (_see page ._)] . alderman wilson, mayor, signalised his year of office by giving, in the egyptian hall, a banquet to connections of the wilson family being above the age of nine years. at this family festival, the usual civic state and ceremonial were maintained, the sword and mace borne, &c.; but after the loving cup had been passed round, the attendants were dismissed, in order that the free family intercourse might not be restricted during the remainder of the evening. a large number of the wilson family, including the alderman himself, have grown rich in the silk trade. (timbs.) in , sir john pirie, mayor, the royal exchange was commenced. baronetcy received on the christening of the prince of wales. at his inauguration dinner at guildhall, sir john said: "i little thought, forty years ago, when i came to london a poor lad from the banks of the tweed, that i should ever arrive at so great a distinction." in his mayoralty show, pirie, being a shipowner, added to the procession a model of a large east indiaman, fully rigged and manned, and drawn in a car by six horses. (aleph.) alderman farncomb (tallow-chandler), mayor in , was one of the great promoters of the great exhibition of , that fair of all nations which was to bring about universal peace, and wrap the globe in english cotton. he gave a grand banquet at the mansion house to prince albert and a host of provincial mayors; and prince albert explained his views about his hobby in his usual calm and sensible way. in sir john musgrove (clothworker), at the suggestion of mr. g. godwin, arranged a show on more than usually æsthetic principles. there was peace with her olive-branch, the four quarters of the world, with camels, deer, elephants, negroes, beehives, a ship in full sail, an allegorical car, drawn by six horses, with britannia on a throne and happiness at her feet; and great was the delight of the mob at the gratuitous splendour. alderman salomons ( ) was the first jewish lord mayor--a laudable proof of the increased toleration of our age. this mayor proved a liberal and active magistrate, who repressed the mischievous and unmeaning guy fawkes rejoicings, and through the exertions of the city solicitor, persuaded the common council to at last erase the absurd inscription on the monument, which attributed the fire of london to a roman catholic conspiracy. alderman rose, mayor in (spectacle-maker), an active encourager of the useful and manly volunteer movement, had the honour of entertaining the prince of wales and his beautiful danish bride at a guildhall banquet, soon after their marriage. the festivities (including £ , for a diamond necklace) cost the corporation some £ , . the alderman was knighted in . he was (says mr. timbs) alderman of queenhithe, living in the same row where three mayors of our time have resided. alderman lawrence, mayor in - . his father and brother were both aldermen, and all three were in turns sheriff of london and middlesex. alderman phillips (spectacle-maker), mayor in , was the second jewish lord mayor, and the first jew admitted into the municipality of london. this gentleman, of prussian descent, had the honour of entertaining, at the mansion house, the prince of wales and the king and queen of the belgians, and was knighted at the close of his mayoralty. chapter xxxvi. the poultry. the early home of the london poulterers--its mysterious desertion--noteworthy sites in the poultry--the birthplace of tom hood, senior--a pretty quarrel at the rose tavern--a costly sign-board--the three cranes--the home of the dillys--johnsoniana--st. mildred's church, poultry--quaint epitaphs--the poultry compter--attack on dr. lamb, the conjurer--dekker, the dramatist--ned ward's description of the compter--granville sharp and the slave trade--important decision in favour of the slave--boyse--dunton. the busy street extending between cheapside and cornhill is described by stow (queen elizabeth) as the special quarter, almost up to his time, of the london poulterers, who sent their fowls and feathered game to be prepared in scalding alley (anciently called scalding house, or scalding wike). the pluckers and scorchers of the feathered fowl occupied the shops between the stocks' market (now the mansion house) and the great conduit. just before stow's time the poulterers seem to have taken wing in a unanimous covey, and settled down, for reasons now unknown to us, and not very material to any one, in gracious (gracechurch) street, and the end of st. nicholas flesh shambles (now newgate market). poultry was not worth its weight in silver then. the chief points of interest in the street (past and present) are the compter prison, grocers' hall, old jewry, and several shops with memorable associations. lubbock's banking house, for instance, is leased of the goldsmiths' company, being part of sir martin bowes' bequest to the company in elizabeth's time. sir martin bowes we have already mentioned in our chapter on the goldsmiths' company. the name of one of our greatest english wits is indissolubly connected with the neighbourhood of the poultry. it falls like a cracker, with merry bang and sparkle, among the graver histories with which this great street is associated. tom hood was the son of a scotch bookseller in the poultry. the firm was "vernor and hood." "mr. hood," says mrs. broderip, "was one of the 'associated booksellers,' who selected valuable old books for reprinting, with great success. messrs. vernor and hood, when they moved to , poultry, took into partnership mr. c. sharpe. the firm of messrs. vernor and hood published 'the beauties of england and wales,' 'the mirror,' bloomfield's poems, and those of henry kirke white." at this house in the poultry, as far as we can trace, in the year , was born his second son, thomas. after the sudden death of the father, the widow and her children were left rather slenderly provided for. "my father, the only remaining son, preferred the drudgery of an engraver's desk to encroaching upon the small family store. he was articled to his uncle, mr. sands, and subsequently was transferred to one of the le keux. he was a most devoted and excellent son to his mother, and the last days of her widowhood and decline were soothed by his tender care and affection. an opening that offered more congenial employment presented itself at last, when he was about the age of twenty-one. by the death of mr. john scott, the editor of the 'london magazine,' who was killed in a duel, that periodical passed into other hands, and became the property of my father's friends, messrs. taylor and hessey. the new proprietors soon sent for him, and he became a sort of sub-editor to the magazine." of this period of his life he says himself:-- "time was when i sat upon a lofty stool, at lofty desk, and with a clerkly pen, began each morning, at the stroke of ten, to write to bell and co.'s commercial school, in warneford court, a shady nook and cool, the favourite retreat of merchant men. yet would my quill turn vagrant, even then, and take stray dips in the castalian pool; now double entry--now a flowery trope-- mingling poetic honey with trade wax; blogg brothers--milton--grote and prescott--pope, bristles and hogg--glynn, mills, and halifax-- rogers and towgood--hemp--the bard of hope-- barilla--byron--tallow--burns and flax." the "king's head" tavern (no. ) was kept at the restoration by william king, a staunch cavalier. it is said that the landlord's wife happened to be on the point of labour on the day of the king's entry into london. she was extremely anxious to see the returning monarch, and the king, being told of her inclination, drew up at the door of the tavern in his good-natured way, and saluted her. the king's head tavern, which stood at the western extremity of the stocks' market, was not at first known by the sign of the "king's head," but the "rose." machin, in his diary, jan. , , thus mentions it:--"a gentleman arrested for debt: master cobham, with divers gentlemen and serving men, took him from the officers, and carried him to the rose tavern, where so great a fray, both the sheriffs were fain to come, and from the rose tavern took all the gentlemen and their servants, and carried them to the compter." the house was distinguished by the device of a large, well-painted rose, erected over a doorway, which was the only indication in the street of such an establishment. ned ward, that coarse observer, in the "london spy," , describes the "rose," anciently the "rose and crown," as famous for good wine. "there was no parting," he says, "without a glass; so we went into the rose tavern in the poultry, where the wine, according to its merit, had justly gained a reputation; and there, in a snug room, warmed with brush and faggot, over a quart of good claret, we laughed over our night's adventure. the tavern door was flanked by two columns twisted with vines carved in wood, which supported a small square gallery over the portico, surrounded by handsome iron-work. on the front of this gallery was erected the sign. it consisted of a central compartment containing the rose, behind which the artist had introduced a tall silver cup, called "a standing bowl," with drinking glasses. beneath the painting was this inscription:-- "this is the rose tavern, kept by william king, citizen and vintner. this taverne's like its sign--a lustie rose, a sight of joy that sweetness doth enclose; the daintie flow're well pictur'd here is seene, but for its rarest sweets--come, searche within!" about the time that king altered his sign we find the authorities of st. peter-upon-cornhill determining "that the king's arms, in painted glass, should be refreshed, and forthwith be set up (in one of their church windows) by the churchwarden at the parish charges; with whatsoever he giveth to the glazier as a gratuity." the sign appears to have been a costly work, since there was the fragment of a leaf of an old account-book found when the ruins of the house were cleared after the great fire, on which were written these entries:--"pd. to hoggestreete, the duche paynter, for ye picture of a rose, wth a standing-bowle and glasses, for a signe, xx _li._, besides diners and drinkings; also for a large table of walnut-tree, for a frame, and for iron-worke and hanging the picture, v _li._" the artist who is referred to in this memorandum could be no other than samuel van hoogstraten, a painter of the middle of the seventeenth century, whose works in england are very rare. he was one of the many excellent artists of the period, who, as walpole contemptuously says, "painted still life, oranges and lemons, plate, damask curtains, cloth of gold, and that medley of familiar objects that strike the ignorant vulgar." at a subsequent date the landlord wrote under the sign-- "gallants, rejoice! this flow're is now full-blowne! 'tis a rose-noble better'd by a crowne; all you who love the emblem and the signe, enter, and prove our loyaltie and wine." the tavern was rebuilt after the great fire, and flourished many years. it was long a depôt in the metropolis for turtle; and in the quadrangle of the tavern might be seen scores of turtle, large and lively, in huge tanks of water; or laid upward on the stone floor, ready for their destination. the tavern was also noted for large dinners of the city companies and other public bodies. the house was refitted in , but has since been pulled down. (timbs.) another noted poultry tavern was the "three cranes," destroyed in the great fire, but rebuilt and noticed in , in one of the many paper controversies of that day. a fulminating pamphlet, entitled "ecclesia et factio: a dialogue between bow church steeple and the exchange grasshopper," elicited "an answer to the dragon and grasshopper; in a dialogue between an old monkey and a young weasel, at the three cranes tavern, in the poultry." no. was the house of johnson's friends, edward and charles dilly, the booksellers. here, in the year , boswell and johnson dined with the dillys, goldsmith, langton, and the rev. mr. toplady. the conversation was of excellent quality, and boswell devotes many pages to it. they discussed the emigration and nidification of birds, on which subjects goldsmith seems to have been deeply interested; the bread-fruit of otaheite, which johnson, who had never tasted it, considered surpassed by a slice of the loaf before him; toleration, and the early martyrs. on this last subject, dr. mayo, "the literary anvil," as he was called, because he bore johnson's hardest blows without flinching, held out boldly for unlimited toleration; johnson for baxter's principle of only "tolerating all things that are tolerable," which is no toleration at all. goldsmith, unable to get a word in, and overpowered by the voice of the great polyphemus, grew at last vexed, and said petulantly to johnson, who he thought had interrupted poor toplady, "sir, the gentleman has heard you patiently for an hour; pray allow us now to hear him." johnson replied, sternly, "sir, i was not interrupting the gentleman; i was only giving him a signal proof of my attention. sir, you are impertinent." johnson, boswell, and langton presently adjourned to the club, where they found burke, garrick, and goldsmith, the latter still brooding over his sharp reprimand at dilly's. johnson, magnanimous as a lion, at once said aside to boswell, "i'll make goldsmith forgive me." then calling to the poet, in a loud voice he said, "dr. goldsmith, something passed to-day where you and i dined; i ask your pardon." goldsmith, touched with this, replied, "it must be much from you, sir, that i take ill"--became himself, "and rattled away as usual." would goldy have rattled away so had he known what johnson, boswell, and langton had said about him as they walked up cheapside? langton had observed that the poet was not like addison, who, content with his fame as a writer, did not attempt a share in conversation; to which boswell added, that goldsmith had a great deal of gold in his cabinet, but, not content with that, was always pulling out his purse. "yes, sir," struck in johnson, "and that is often an empty purse." in we find boswell skilfully decoying his great idol to dinner at the dillys to meet the notorious "jack wilkes." to boswell's horror, when he went to fetch johnson, he found him covered with dust, and buffeting some books, having forgotten all about the dinner party. a little coaxing, however, soon won him over; johnson roared out, "frank, a clean shirt!" and was soon packed into a hackney coach. on discovering "a certain gentleman in lace," and he wilkes the demagogue, johnson was at first somewhat disconcerted, but soon recovered himself, and behaved like a man of the world. wilkes quickly won the great man. they soon set to work discussing foote's wit, and johnson confessed that, though resolved not to be pleased, he had once at a dinner-party been obliged to lay down his knife and fork, throw himself back in his chair, and fairly laugh it out--"the dog was so comical, sir: he was irresistible." wilkes and johnson then fell to bantering the scotch; burke complimented boswell on his successful stroke of diplomacy in bringing johnson and wilkes together. mr. wilkes placed himself next to dr. johnson, and behaved to him with so much attention and politeness, that he gained upon him insensibly. no man ate more heartily than johnson, or loved better what was nice and delicate. mr. wilkes was very assiduous in helping him to some fine veal. "pray give me leave, sir--it is better there--a little of the brown--some fat, sir--a little of the stuffing--some gravy--let me have the pleasure of giving you some butter--allow me to recommend a squeeze of this orange; or the lemon, perhaps, may have more zest." "sir--sir, i am obliged to you, sir," cried johnson, bowing, and turning his head to him with a look for some time of "surly virtue," but, in a short while, of complacency. but the most memorable evening recorded at dilly's was april , , when johnson and boswell dined there, and met miss seward, the lichfield poetess, and mrs. knowles, a clever quaker lady, who for once overcame the giant of bolt court in argument. before dinner johnson took up a book, and read it ravenously. "he knows how to read it better," said mrs. knowles to boswell, "than any one. he gets at the substance of a book directly. he tears out the heart of it." at dinner johnson told dilly that, if he wrote a book on cookery, it should be based on philosophical principles. "women," he said, contemptuously, "can spin, but they cannot make a good book of cookery." they then fell to talking of a ghost that had appeared at newcastle, and had recommended some person to apply to an attorney. johnson thought the wesleys had not taken pains enough in collecting evidence, at which miss seward smiled. this vexed the superstitious sage of fleet street, and he said, with solemn vehemence, "yes, ma'am, this is a question which, after five thousand years, is yet undecided; a question, whether in theology or philosophy, one of the most important that can come before the human understanding." johnson, who during the evening had been very thunderous at intervals, breaking out against the americans, describing them as "rascals, robbers, and pirates," and declaring he would destroy them all--as boswell says, "he roared out a tremendous volley which one might fancy could be heard across the atlantic," &c.--grew very angry at mrs. knowles for noticing his unkindness to miss jane barry, a recent convert to quakerism. "we remained," says boswell, writing with awe, like a man who has survived an earthquake, "together till it was very late. notwithstanding occasional explosions of violence, we were all delighted upon the whole with johnson. i compared him at the time to a warm west indian climate, where you have a bright sun, quick vegetation, luxurious foliage, luscious fruits, but where the same heat sometimes produces thunder, lightning, and earthquakes in a terrible degree." st. mildred's church, poultry, is a rectory situate at the corner of scalding alley. john de asswell was collated thereto in the year . to this church anciently belonged the chapel of corpus christi and st. mary, at the end of conyhoop lane, or grocers' alley, in the poultry. the patronage of this church was in the prior and canons of st. mary overie's in southwark till their suppression. this church was consumed in the great fire, anno , and then rebuilt, the parish of st. mary cole being thereunto annexed. among the monumental inscriptions in this church, maitland gives the following on the well-known thomas tusser, of elizabeth's reign, who wrote a quaint poem on a farmer's life and duties:-- "here thomas tusser, clad in earth, doth lie, that some time made the points of husbandrie. by him then learne thou maist, here learne we must, when all is done we sleep and turn to dust. and yet through christ to heaven we hope to goe, who reads his bookes shall find his faith was so. among the curious epitaphs in st. mildred's, stow mentions the following, which is worth quoting here:-- "here lies buried thomas yken, skinner. "in hodnet and london god blessed my life, till forty and sixe yeeres, with children and wife; and god will raise me up to life againe, therefore have i thought my death no paine." [illustration: john wilkes. (_from an authentic portrait._)] a fair monument of queen elizabeth had on the sides the following verses inscribed:-- "if prayers or tears of subjects had prevailed, to save a princesse through the world esteemed; then atropos in cutting here had fail'd, and had not cut her thread, but been redeem'd; but pale-faced death; and cruel churlish fate, to prince and people brings the latest date. yet spight of death and fate, fame will display her gracious virtues through the world for aye, spain's rod, rome's ruine, netherlands' reliefe; heaven's gem, earth's joy, world's wonder, nature's chief. britaine's blessing, england's splendour, religion's nurse, the faith's defender." the poultry compter, on the site of the present grocers' alley, was one of the old sheriff's prisons pulled down in , replaced soon after by a chapel. stow mentions the prison as four houses west from the parish of st. mildred, and describes it as having been "there kept and continued time out of mind, for i have not read the original hereof." "it was the only prison," says mr. peter cunningham, "with a ward set apart for jews (probably from its vicinity to old jewry), and it was the only prison in london left unattacked by lord george gordon's blue cockaded rioters in ." this may have arisen from secret instructions of lord george, who had sympathies for the jews, and eventually became one himself. middleton, (james i.), speaks ill of it in his play of the _phoenix_, for prisons at that time were places of cruelty and extortion, and schools of villainy. the great playwright makes his "first officer" say, "we have been scholars, i can tell you--we could not have been knaves so soon else; for as in that notable city called london, stand two most famous universities, poultry and wood st., where some are of twenty years standing, and have took all their degrees, from the master's side, down to the mistress's side, so in like manner," &c. [illustration: the poultry compter. (_from an old print._)] it was at this prison, in the reign of charles i., that dr. lamb, the conjurer, died, after being nearly torn to pieces by the mob. he was a creature of the duke of buckingham, and had been accused of bewitching lord windsor. on the th of june lamb was insulted in the city by a few boys, who soon after being increased by the acceding multitude, they surrounded him with bitter invectives, which obliged him to seek refuge in a tavern in the old jewry; but the tumult continuing to increase, the vintner, for his own safety, judged it proper to turn him out of the house, whereupon the mob renewed their exclamations against him, with the appellations of "wizard," "conjuror," and "devil." but at last, perceiving the approach of a guard, sent by the lord mayor to his rescue, they fell upon and beat the doctor in such a cruel and barbarous manner, that he was by the said guard taken up for dead, and carried to the compter, where he soon after expired. "but the author of a treatise, entitled 'the forfeiture of the city charters,'" says maitland, "gives a different account of this affair, and, fixing the scene of this tragedy on the th of july, writes, that as the doctor passed through cheapside, he was attacked as above mentioned, which forced him to seek a retreat down wood street, and that he was there screened from the fury of the mob in a house, till they had broken all the windows, and forced the door; and then, no help coming to the relief of the doctor, the housekeeper was obliged to deliver him up to save the spoiling of his goods. "when the rabble had got him into their hands, some took him by the legs, and others by the arms, and so dragging him along the streets, cried, 'lamb, lamb, the conjuror, the conjuror!' every one kicking and striking him that were nearest. "whilst this tumult lasted, and the city was in an uproar, the news of what had passed came to the king's ear, who immediately ordered his guards to make ready, and, taking some of the chief nobility, he came in person to appease the tumult. in st. paul's churchyard he met the inhuman villains dragging the doctor along; and after the knight-marshal had proclaimed silence, who was but ill obeyed, the king, like a good prince, mildly exhorted and persuaded them to keep his peace, and deliver up the doctor to be tried according to law; and that if his offence, which they charged him with, should appear, he should be punished accordingly; commanding them to disperse and depart every man to his own home. but the insolent varlets answered, _that they had judged him already_; and thereupon pulled him limb from limb; or, at least, so dislocated his joints, that he instantly died." this took place just before the duke of buckingham's assassination by felton, in . the king, very much enraged at the treatment of lamb, and the non-discovery of the real offenders, extorted a fine of £ , from the abashed city. dekker, the dramatist, was thrown into this prison. this poet of the great elizabethan race was one of ben jonson's great rivals. he thus rails at shakespeare's special friend, who had made "a supplication to be a poor journeyman player, and hadst been still so, but that thou couldst not set _a good face_ upon it. thou hast forgot how thou ambled'st in leather-pilch, by a play-waggon in the highway; and took'st mad jeronimo's part, to get service among the mimics," &c. dekker thus delineates ben:--"that same horace has the most ungodly face, by my fan; it looks for all the world like a rotten russet apple, when 'tis bruised. it's better than a spoonful of cinnamon water next my heart, for me to hear him speak; he sounds it so i' th' nose, and talks and rants like the poor fellows under ludgate--to see his face make faces, when he reads his songs and sonnets." again, we have ben's face compared with that of his favourite, horace's--"you staring leviathan! look on the sweet visage of horace; look, parboil'd face, look--has he not his face punchtfull of eylet-holes, like the cover of a warming-pan?" ben jonson's manner in a playhouse is thus sketched by dekker:--"not to hang himself, even if he thought any man could write plays as well as himself; not to bombast out a new play with the old linings of jests stolen from the temple's revels; not to sit in a gallery where your comedies have entered their actions, and there make vile and bad faces at every line, to make men have an eye to you, and to make players afraid; not to venture on the stage when your play is ended, and exchange courtesies and compliments with gallants, to make all the house rise and cry--'that's horace! that's he that pens and purges humours!'" but, notwithstanding all his bitterness, dekker could speak generously of the old poet; for he thus sums up ben jonson's merits in the following lines:-- "good horace! no! my cheeks do blush for thine, as often as thou speakest so; where one true and nobly virtuous spirit for thy best part loves thee, i wish one, ten; even from my heart! i make account, i put up as deep share in any good man's love, which thy worth earns, as thou thyself; we envy not to see thy friends with bays to crown thy poesy. no, here the gall lies;--we, that know what stuff thy very heart is made of, know the stalk on which thy learning grows, and can give life to thy one dying baseness; yet must we dance anticks on your paper. but were thy warp'd soul put in a new mould, i'd wear thee as a jewel set in gold." charles lamb, speaking of dekker's share in massinger's _virgin martyr_, highly eulogises the impecunious poet. "this play," says lamb, "has some beauties of so very high an order, that with all my respect for massinger, i do not think he had poetical enthusiasm capable of rising up to them. his associate, dekker, who wrote _old fortunatus_, had poetry enough for anything. the very impurities which obtrude themselves among the sweet pictures of this play, like satan among the sons of heaven, have a strength of contrast, a raciness, and a glow in them, which are beyond massinger. they are to the religion of the rest what caliban is to miranda." ned ward, in his coarse but clever "london spy," gives us a most distasteful picture of the compter in - . "when we first entered," says ward, "this apartment, under the title of the king's ward, the mixture of scents that arose from _mundungus_, tobacco, foul feet, dirty shirts, stinking breaths, and uncleanly carcases, poisoned our nostrils far worse than a southwark ditch, a tanner's yard, or a tallow-chandler's melting-room. the ill-looking vermin, with long, rusty beards, swaddled up in rags, and their heads--some covered with thrum-caps, and others thrust into the tops of old stockings. some quitted their play they were before engaged in, and came hovering round us, like so many cannibals, with such devouring countenances, as if a man had been but a morsel with 'em, all crying out, 'garnish, garnish,' as a rabble in an insurrection crying, 'liberty, liberty!' we were forced to submit to the doctrine of non-resistance, and comply with their demands, which extended to the sum of two shillings each." the poultry compter has a special historical interest, from the fact of its being connected with the early struggles of our philanthropists against the slave-trade. it was here that several of the slaves released by granville sharp's noble exertions were confined. this excellent man, and true aggressive christian, was grandson of an archbishop of york, and son of a learned northumberland rector. though brought up to the bar, he never practised, and resigned a place in the ordnance office because he could not conscientiously approve of the american war. he lived a bachelor life in the temple, doing good continually. sharp opposed the impressment of sailors and the system of duelling; encouraged the distribution of the bible, and advocated parliamentary reform. but it was as an enemy to slavery, and the first practical opposer of its injustice and its cruelties, that granville sharp earned a foremost place in the great bede-roll of our english philanthropists. mr. sharp's first interference in behalf of persecuted slaves was in . in the year , says clarkson, in his work on slavery, a mr. david lisle had brought over from barbadoes jonathan strong, an african slave, as his servant. he used the latter in a barbarous manner at his lodgings, in wapping, but particularly by beating him over the head with a pistol, which occasioned his head to swell. when the swelling went down a disorder fell into his eyes, which threatened the loss of them. to this a fever and ague succeeded; and he was affected with a lameness in both his legs. jonathan strong having been brought into this deplorable condition, and being therefore wholly useless, was left by his master to go whither he pleased. he applied, accordingly, to mr. william sharp, the surgeon, for his advice, as to one who gave up a portion of his time to the healing of the diseases of the poor. it was here that mr. granville sharp, the brother of the former, saw him. suffice it to say that in process of time he was cured. during this time mr. granville sharp, pitying his hard case, supplied him with money, and afterwards got him a situation in the family of mr. brown, an apothecary, to carry out medicines. in this new situation, when strong had become healthy and robust in his appearance, his master happened to see him. the latter immediately formed the design of possessing him again. accordingly, when he had found out his residence, he procured john ross, keeper of the poultry compter, and william miller, an officer under the lord mayor, to kidnap him. this was done by sending for him to a public-house in fenchurch street, and then seizing him. by these he was conveyed, without any warrant, to the poultry compter, where he was sold by his master to john kerr for £ . mr. sharp, immediately upon this, waited upon sir robert kite, the then lord mayor, and entreated him to send for strong and to hear his case. a day was accordingly appointed, mr. sharp attended, also william m'bean, a notary public, and david laird, captain of the ship _thames_, which was to have conveyed strong to jamaica, in behalf of the purchaser, john kerr. a long conversation ensued, in which the opinion of york and talbot was quoted. mr. sharp made his observations. certain lawyers who were present seemed to be staggered at the case, but inclined rather to re-commit the prisoner. the lord mayor, however, discharged strong, as he had been taken up without a warrant. as soon as this determination was made known, the parties began to move off. captain laird, however, who kept close to strong, laid hold of him before he had quitted the room, and said aloud, "then now i seize him as my slave." upon this mr. sharp put his hand upon laird's shoulder, and pronounced these words, "i charge you, in the name of the king, with an assault upon the person of jonathan strong, and all these are my witnesses." laird was greatly intimidated by this charge, made in the presence of the lord mayor and others, and fearing a prosecution, let his prisoner go, leaving him to be conveyed away by mr. sharp. but the great turning case was that of james somerset, in . james somerset, an african slave, had been brought to england by his master, charles stewart, in november, . somerset, in process of time, left him. stewart took an opportunity of seizing him, and had him conveyed on board the _ann and mary_, captain knowles, to be carried out of the kingdom and sold as a slave in jamaica. the question raised was, "whether a slave, by coming into england, became free?" in order that time might be given for ascertaining the law fully on this head, the case was argued at three different sittings--first, in january, ; secondly, in february, ; and thirdly, in may, . and that no decision otherwise than what the law warranted might be given, the opinion of the judges was taken upon the pleadings. the great and glorious issue of the trial was, "that as soon as ever any slave set his foot upon english territory he became free." thus ended the great case of somerset, which, having been determined after so deliberate an investigation of the law, can never be reversed while the british constitution remains. the eloquence displayed in it by those who were engaged on the side of liberty was perhaps never exceeded on any occasion; and the names of the counsellors, davy, glynn, hargrave, mansfield, and alleyne, ought always to be remembered with gratitude by the friends of this great cause. it was after this verdict that cowper wrote the following beautiful lines:-- "slaves cannot breathe in england; if their lungs imbibe our air, that moment they are free; they touch our country, and their shackles fall. that's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud and jealous of the blessing. spread on, then, and let it circulate through every vein of all your empire, that where britain's power is felt, mankind may feel her mercy too." it was in this compter that boyse, a true type of the grub street poet of dr. johnson's time, spent many of the latter days of his life. in the year boyse was reduced to the lowest state of poverty, having no clothes left in which he could appear abroad; and what bare subsistence he procured was by writing occasional poems for the magazines. of the disposition of his apparel mr. nichols received from dr. johnson, who knew him well, the following account. he used to pawn what he had of this sort, and it was no sooner redeemed by his friends, than pawned again. on one occasion dr. johnson collected a sum of money[ ] for this purpose, and in two days the clothes were pawned again. in this state boyse remained in bed with no other covering than a blanket with two holes, through which he passed his arms when he sat up to write. the author of his life in cibber adds, that when his distresses were so pressing as to induce him to dispose of his shirt, he used to cut some white paper in slips, which he tied round his wrists, and in the same manner supplied his neck. in this plight he frequently appeared abroad, while his other apparel was scarcely sufficient for the purposes of decency. in the month of may, , boyse died in obscure lodgings near shoe lane. an old acquaintance of his endeavoured to collect money to defray the expenses of his funeral, so that the scandal of being buried by the parish might be avoided. but his endeavours were in vain, for the persons he had selected had been so often troubled with applications during the life of this unhappy man, that they refused to contribute anything towards his funeral. of boyse's best poems "the deity" contains some vigorous lines, of which the following are a favourable specimen:-- "transcendent pow'r! sole arbiter of fate! how great thy glory! and thy bliss how great, to view from thy exalted throne above (eternal source of light, and life, and love!) unnumbered creatures draw their smiling birth, to bless the heav'ns or beautify the earth; while systems roll, obedient to thy view, and worlds rejoice--which newton never knew! * * * * * below, thro' different forms does matter range, and life subsists from elemental change, liquids condensing shapes terrestrial wear, earth mounts in fire, and fire dissolves in air; while we, inquiring phantoms of a day, inconstant as the shadows we survey! with them along time's rapid current pass, and haste to mingle with the parent mass; but thou, eternal lord of life divine! in youth immortal shalt for ever shine! no change shall darken thy exalted name, from everlasting ages still the same!" dunton, the eccentric bookseller of william iii.'s reign, resided in the poultry in the year . "the humour of rambling," he says in his autobiography, "was now pretty well off with me, and my thoughts began to fix rather upon business. the shop i took, with the sign of the black raven, stood opposite to the poultry counter, where i traded ten years, as all other men must expect, with a variety of successes and disappointments. my shop was opened just upon the revolution, and, as i remember, the same day the prince of orange came to london." footnotes: [ ] "the sum," said johnson, "was collected by sixpences, at a time when to me sixpence was a serious consideration." chapter xxxvii. old jewry. the old jewry--early settlements of jews in london and oxford--bad times for the israelites--jews' alms--a king in debt--rachel weeping for her children--jewish converts--wholesale expulsion of the chosen people from england--the rich house of a rich citizen--the london institution, formerly in the old jewry--porsoniana--nonconformists in the old jewry--samuel chandler, richard price, and james foster--the grocers' company--their sufferings under the commonwealth--almost bankrupt--again they flourish--the grocers' hall garden--fairfax and the grocers--a rich and generous grocer--a warlike grocer--walbrook--bucklersbury. the old jewry was the ghetto of mediæval london. the rev. moses margoliouth, in his interesting "history of the jews in great britain," has clearly shown that jews resided in england during the saxon times, by an edict published by elgbright, archbishop of york, a.d. , forbidding christians to attend the jewish feasts. it appears the jews sometimes left lands to the abbeys; and in the laws of edward the confessor we find them especially mentioned as under the king's guard and protection. the conqueror invited over many jews from rouen, who settled themselves chiefly in london, stamford, and oxford. in london the jews had two colonies--one in old jewry, near king offa's old palace; and one in the liberties of the tower. rufus, in his cynical way, marked his hatred of the monks by summoning a convocation, where english bishops met jewish rabbis, and held a religious controversy, rufus swearing by st. luke's face that if the rabbis had the best of it, he would turn jew at once. in this reign the jews were so powerful at oxford that they let three halls--lombard hall, moses hall, and jacob hall--to students; and their rabbis instructed even christian students in their synagogue. jews took care of vacant benefices for the king. in the reign of henry i. the jews began to make proselytes, and monks were sent to several towns to preach against them. halcyon times! with the reign of stephen, however, began the storms, and, with the clergy, the usurper persecuted the jews, exacting a fine of £ , from those of london alone for a pretended manslaughter. the absurd story of the jews murdering young children, to anoint israelites or to raise devils with their blood, originated in this reign. henry ii. was equally ruthless, though he did grant jews cemeteries outside the towns. up till this time the london jews had only been allowed to bury in "the jews' garden," in the parish of st. giles's, cripplegate. in spite of frequent fines and banishments, their historian owns that altogether they throve in this reign, and their physicians were held in high repute. with richard i., chivalrous to all else, began the real miseries of the english jews. even on the day of his coronation there was a massacre of the jews, and many of their houses were burnt. two thousand jews were murdered at york, and at lynn and stamford they were also plundered. on his return from palestine richard established a tribunal for jews. in the early part of john's reign he treated the money-lenders, whom he wanted to use, with consideration. he granted them a charter, and allowed them to choose their own chief rabbi. he also allowed them to try all their own causes which did not concern pleas of the crown; and all this justice only cost the english jews , marks, for john was poor. his greed soon broke loose. in he levied on the jews , marks, and imprisoned, blinded, and tortured all who did not readily pay. the king's last act of inhumanity was to compel some jews to torture and put to death a great number of scotch prisoners who had assisted the barons. can we wonder that it is still a proverb among the english jews, "thank god that there was only one king john?" [illustration: richard porson. (_from an authentic portrait._)] the regent of the early part of the reign of henry iii. protected the jews, and exempted them from the jurisdiction of the ecclesiastical courts, but they were compelled to wear on their breasts two white tablets of linen or parchment, two inches broad and four inches long; and twenty-four burgesses were chosen in every town where they resided, to protect them from the insults of pilgrims; for the clergy still treated them as excommunicated infidels. but even this lull was short--persecution soon again broke out. in the th of henry iii. the crown seized a third part of all their movables, and their new synagogue in the old jewry was granted to the brothers of st. anthony of vienna, and turned into a church. in the th of henry iii. the jews were again taxed to the amount of , silver marks. at the same time the king erected an institution in new street (chancery lane) for jewish converts, as an atonement for his father's cruelty to the persecuted exiles. four jews of norwich having been dragged at horses' tails and hung, on a pretended charge of circumcising a christian boy, led to new persecution, and the jews were driven out of newcastle and southampton; while to defray the expense of entertaining the queen's foreign uncles , marks were exacted from the suffering race. in the th year of his reign henry, driven hard for money, extorted from the rich jews , more marks, and several were burned alive for plotting to destroy london by fire. the more absurd the accusation the more eagerly it was believed by a superstitious and frightened rabble. in , matthew of paris says, the corpse of a child was found buried in london, on whose arms and legs were traced hebrew inscriptions. it was supposed that the jews had crucified this child, in ridicule of the crucifixion of christ. the converted jews of new street were called in to read the hebrew letters, and the canons of st. paul's took the child's body, which was supposed to have wrought miracles, and buried it with great ceremony not far from their great altar. in order to defray the expenses of his brother richard's marriage the poor jews of london were heavily mulcted, and aaron of york, a man of boundless wealth, was forced to pay , marks of silver and of gold. defaulters were transported to ireland, a punishment especially dreaded by the jews. a tax called jews' alms was also sternly enforced; and we find lucretia, widow of david, an oxford jew, actually compelled to pay £ , towards the rebuilding of westminster abbey. it was about this time that abraham, a jew of berkhampstead, strangled his wife, who had refused to help him to defile and deface an image of the virgin, and was thrown into a dungeon of the tower; but the murderer escaped, by a present of , marks to the king. tormented by the king's incessant exactions, the jews at last implored leave to quit england before their very skins were taken from them. the king broke into a fit of almost ludicrous rage. he had been tender of their welfare, he said to his brother richard. "is it to be marvelled at," he cried, "that i covet money? it is a horrible thing to imagine the debts wherein i am held bound. by the head of god, they amount to the sum of two hundred thousand marks; and if i should say three hundred thousand, i should not exceed the bounds of truth. i am deceived on every hand; i am a maimed and abridged king--yea, now only half a king. there is a necessity for me to have money, gotten from what place soever, and from whomsoever." [illustration: sir r. clayton's house, garden front. (_from an old print._)] the king, on richard's promise to obtain him money, sold him the right which he held over the jews. soon after this, eighty-six of the richest jews of london were hung, on a charge of having crucified a christian child at lincoln, and twenty-three others were thrown into the tower. truly old jewry must have often heard the voice of rachel weeping for her children. their persecutors never grew weary. in a great riot, encouraged by the barons, the great bell of st. paul's tolled out, jews were killed in london, and the synagogue burnt, the leader of the mob, john fitz-john, a baron, running rabbi abraham, the richest jew in london, through with his sword. on the defeat of the king's party at the battle of lewes, the london mob accusing the jews of aiding the king, plundered their houses, and all the israelites would have perished, had they not taken refuge in the tower. by royal edict the christians were forbidden to buy flesh of a jew, and no jew was allowed to employ christian nurses, bakers, brewers, or cooks. towards the close of henry's life the synagogue in old jewry was again taken from the jews, and given to the friars penitent, whose chapel stood hard by, and who complained of the noise of the jewish congregation; but the king permitted another synagogue to be built in a more suitable place. henry then ordered the jews to pay up all arrears of tallages within four months, and half of the sum in seventeen days. the tower of london was naturally soon full of grey-bearded jewish debtors. no wonder, with all these persecutions, that the chancery lane house of converts began soon to fill. "on one of the rolls of this reign," says mr. margoliouth, probably quoting prynne's famous diatribe against the jews, "about names of jewish converts are registered." from the th year of henry iii. to the nd of edward i., the crown, says coke, extorted from the english jews no less than £ , s. d.! edward i. was more merciful. in a statute, however, which was passed in his third year, he forbade jews practising usury, required them to wear badges of yellow taffety, as a distinguishing mark of their nationality, and demanded from each of them threepence every easter. then began the plunder. the king wanted money to build carnarvon and conway castles, to be held as fortresses against the welsh, whom he had just recently conquered and treated with great cruelty, and the jews were robbed accordingly. it was not difficult in those days to find an excuse for extortion if the royal exchequer was empty. in the th year of edward no less than jews were put to death for clipping money, and all they possessed seized by the king. in his th year all the jews in england were imprisoned in one night, as selden proves by an old hebrew inscription found at winchester, and not released till they had paid £ , of silver for a ransom. at last, in the year , came the jews' final expulsion from england, when , or , of these tormented exiles left our shores, not to return till cromwell set the first great example of toleration. edward allowed the jews to take with them part of their money and movables, but seized their houses and other possessions. all their outstanding mortgages were forfeited to the crown, and ships were to be provided for their conveyance to such places within reasonable distance as they might choose. in spite of this, however, many, through the treachery of the sailors, were left behind in england, and were all put to death with great cruelty. "whole rolls full of patents relative to jewish estates," says mr. margoliouth, "are still to be seen at the tower, which estates, together with their rent in fee, permissions, and mortgages, were all seized by the king." old jewry, and jewin street, aldersgate, where their burial-ground was, still preserve a dim memory of their residence among us. there used to be a tradition in england that the jews buried much of their treasure here, in hopes of a speedy return to the land where they had suffered so much, yet where they had thriven. in spite of the edict of banishment a few converted jews continued to reside in england, and after the reformation some unconverted jews ventured to return. rodrigo lopez, a physician of queen elizabeth's, for instance, was a jew. he was tortured to death for being accused of designing to poison the queen. no. , old jewry was the house of sir robert clayton, lord mayor in the time of charles ii. it was a fine brick mansion, and one of the grandest houses in the street. it is mentioned by evelyn in the following terms:--" th september, .--i carried with me to dinner my lord h. howard (now to be made earl of norwich and earl marshal of england) to sir robert clayton's, now sheriff of london, at his own house, where we had a great feast; it is built, indeed, for a great magistrate, at excessive cost. the cedar dining-room is painted with the history of the giants' war, incomparably done by mr. streeter, but the figures are too near the eye." we give on the previous page a view of the garden front of this house, taken from an old print. sir robert built the house to keep his shrievalty, which he did with great magnificence. it was for some years the residence of mr. samuel sharp, an eminent surveyor. in the year was established, by a proprietary in the city, the london institution, "for the advancement of literature and the diffusion of useful knowledge." this institution was temporarily located in sir robert clayton's famous old house. upon the first committee of the institution were mr. r. angerstein and mr. richard sharp. porson, the famous greek scholar and editor of euripides, was thought an eligible man to be its principal librarian. he was accordingly appointed to the office by a unanimous resolution of the governors; and mr. sharp had the gratification of announcing to the professor his appointment. his friends rejoiced. professor young, of glasgow, writing to burney about this time, says:--"of devil dick you say nothing. i see by the newspapers they have given him a post. a handsome salary, i hope, a suite of chambers, coal and candle, &c. porter and cyder, i trust, are among the _et cæteras_." his salary was £ a year, with a suite of rooms. still, porson was not just the man for a librarian; for no one could use books more roughly. he had no affectation about books, nor, indeed, affectation of any sort. the late mr. william upcott, who urged the publication of evelyn's diary at wootton, was fellow-secretary with porson. the institution removed to king's arms yard, coleman street, in , and thence in to the present handsome mansion, erected from the classic design of mr. w. brooks, on the north side of moorfields, now finsbury circus. the library is "one of the most useful and accessible in great britain;" and mr. watson found in a few of the books porson's handwriting, consisting of critical remarks and notes. in a copy of the aldine "herodotus," he has marked the chapters in the margin in arabic numerals "with such nicety and regularity," says his biographer, "that the eye of the reader, unless upon the closest examination, takes them for print." lord byron remembered porson at cambridge; in the hall where he himself dined, at the vice-chancellor's table, and porson at the dean's, he always appeared sober in his demeanour, nor was he guilty, as far as his lordship knew, of any excess or outrage in public; but in an evening, with a party of undergraduates, he would, in fits of intoxication, get into violent disputes with the young men, and arrogantly revile them for not knowing what he thought they might be expected to know. he once went away in disgust, because none of them knew the name of "the cobbler of messina." in this condition byron had seen him at the rooms of william bankes, the nubian discoverer, where he would pour forth whole pages of various languages, and distinguish himself especially by his copious floods of greek. lord byron further tells us that he had seen sheridan "drunk, with all the world; his intoxication was that of bacchus, but porson's that of silenus. of all the disgusting brutes, sulky, abusive, and intolerable, porson was the most bestial, so far as the few times that i saw him went, which were only at william bankes's rooms. he was tolerated in this state among the young men for his talents, as the turks think a madman inspired, and bear with him. he used to write, or rather vomit, pages of all languages, and could hiccup greek like a helot; and certainly sparta never shocked her children with a grosser exhibition than this man's intoxication." the library of the institution appears, however, to have derived little advantage from porson's supervision of it, beyond the few criticisms which were found in his handwriting in some of the volumes. owing to his very irregular habits, the great scholar proved but an inefficient librarian; he was irregular in attendance, and was frequently brought home at midnight drunk. the directors had determined to dismiss him, and said they only knew him as their librarian from seeing his name attached to receipts of salary. indeed, he was already breaking up, and his stupendous memory had begun to fail. on the th of september, , he left the old jewry to call on his brother-in-law, perry, in the strand, and at the corner of northumberland street was struck down by a fit of apoplexy. he was carried over to the st. martin's lane workhouse, and there slowly recovered consciousness. mr. savage, the under-librarian, seeing an advertisement in the _british press_, describing a person picked up, having greek memoranda in his pocket, went to the workhouse and brought porson home in a hackney coach; he talked about the fire which the night before had destroyed covent garden theatre, and as they rounded st. paul's, remarked upon the ill treatment wren had received. on reaching the old jewry, and after he had breakfasted, dr. adam clarke called and had a conversation with porson about a stone with a greek inscription, brought from ephesus; he also discussed a mosaic pavement recently found in palestrini, and quoted two lines from the greek anthologia. dr. adam clarke particularly noticed that he gave the greek rapidly, but the english with painful slowness, as if the greek came more naturally. then, apparently fancying himself under restraint, he walked out, and went into the african or cole's coffee-house in st. michael's alley, cornhill; there he would have fallen had he not caught hold of one of the brass rods of the boxes. some wine and some jelly dissolved in brandy and water considerably roused him, but he could hardly speak, and the waiter took him back to the institution in a coach. he expired exactly as the clock struck twelve, on the night of sunday, september , . he was buried in the chapel of trinity college, cambridge, and eulogies of his talent, written in greek and latin verse, were affixed to his pall--an old custom not discontinued till . his books fetched £ , , and those with manuscript notes were bought by trinity college. it was said of porson that he drank everything he could lay his hands upon, even to embrocation and spirits of wine intended for the lamp. rogers describes him going back into the dining-room after the people had gone, and drinking all that was left in the glasses. he once undertook to learn by heart, in a week, a copy of the _morning chronicle_, and he boasted he could repeat "roderick random" from beginning to end. mr. luard describes porson as being, in personal appearance, tall; his head very fine, with an expansive forehead, over which he plastered his brown hair; he had a long, roman nose (it ought to have been greek), and his eyes were remarkably keen and penetrating. in general he was very careless as to his dress, especially when alone in his chamber, or when reading hard; but "when in his gala costume, a smart blue coat, white vest, black satin nether garments, and silk stockings, with a shirt ruffled at the wrists, he looked quite the gentleman." the street where, in , many jews were massacred, and where again, in , jews were slain, was much affected by nonconformists. there was a baptist chapel here in the puritan times; and in queen anne's reign the presbyterians built a spacious church, in meeting house court, in . it is described as occupying an area of , square feet, and being lit with six bow windows. the society, says mr. pike, had been formed forty years before, by the son of the excellent calamy, the persecuted vicar of aldermanbury, who is said to have died from grief at the fire of london. john shower was one of the most celebrated ministers of the old jewry chapel. he wrote a protest against the occasional conformity bill, to which swift (under the name of his friend harley) penned a bitter reply. he died in . from to the assistant lecturer was timothy rogers, son of an ejected cumberland minister, of whom an interesting story is told. sir richard cradock, a high church justice, had arrested mr. rogers and all his flock, and was about to send them to prison, when the justice's granddaughter, a wilful child of seven, pitying the old preacher, threatened to drown herself if the poor people were punished. the preacher blessed her, and they parted. years after this child, being in london, dreamed of a certain chapel, preacher, and text, and the next day, going to the old jewry, saw mr. shower, and recognised him as the preacher of her dream. the lady afterwards told this to mr. rogers' son, when the lad turned dissenter. like many other of the early nonconformist preachers, rogers seems to have been a hypochondriac, who looked upon himself as "a broken vessel, a dead man out of mind," and eventually gave up his profession. shower's successor, simon browne, wrote a volume of "hymns," compiled a lexicon, and wrote a "defence of the christian revelation," in reply to woolston and other freethinkers. browne was also a victim to delusions, believing that god, in his displeasure, had withdrawn his soul from his body. this state of mind is said by some to have arisen from a nervous shock browne had once received in finding a highwayman with whom he had grappled dead in his grasp. he believed his mind entirely gone, and his head to resemble a parrot's. at times his thoughts turned to self-destruction. he therefore abandoned his pulpit, and retired to shepton mallet to study. his "defence" is dedicated to queen caroline as from "a thing." samuel chandler, a celebrated author and divine, and a friend of butler and seeker, and bowyer the printer, was for forty years another old jewry worthy. he lectured against popery with great success at salters' hall, and held a public dispute with a romish priest at the "pope's head," cornhill. in a funeral sermon on george ii., chandler drew absurd parallels between him and david, which the grub street writers made the most of. chandler's deformed sister mary, a milliner at bath, wrote verses which pope commended. in richard price, afterwards chaplain at stoke newington, held the lectureship at the old jewry. price's lecture on "civil liberty," _apropos_ of the american war, gained him franklin's and priestley's friendship; as his first ethical work had already won hume's. burke denounced him as a traitor; while the corporation of london presented him with the freedom of the city in a gold box, the congress offered him posts of honour, and the premier of would have been glad to have had him as a secretary. the last pastor at the old jewry chapel was abraham rees. this indefatigable man enlarged harris's "lexicon technicum," improved by ephraim chambers, into the "encyclopædia" of forty-five quarto volumes, a book now thought redundant and ill-arranged, and the philological parts defective. in the old jewry congregation removed to jewin street. dr. james foster, a dissenting minister eulogised by pope, carried on the sunday evening lecture in old jewry for more than twenty years; it was began in . the clergy, wits, and freethinkers crowded with equal anxiety to hear him of whom pope wrote-- "let modest foster, if he will, excel ten metropolitans in preaching well." and pope's friend, lord bolingbroke, an avowed deist, commended foster for the false aphorism--"where mystery begins religion ends." dr. foster attended lord kilmarnock before his execution. he wrote in defence of christianity in reply to tindal, the freethinker, and died in . he says in one of his works:--"i value those who are of different professions from me, more than those who agree with me in sentiment, if they are more serious, sober, and charitable." this excellent man was the son of a northamptonshire clergyman, who turned dissenter and became a fuller at exeter. at grocers' hall we stop to sketch the history of an ancient company. the grocers of london were originally called pepperers, pepper being the chief staple of their trade. the earlier grocers were italians, genoese, florentine or venetian merchants, then supplying all the west of christendom with indian and arabian spices and drugs, and italian silks, wines, and fruits. the pepperers are first mentioned as a fraternity among the amerced guilds of henry ii., but had probably clubbed together at an earlier period. they are mentioned in a petition to parliament as grocers, says mr. herbert, in (edward iii.), and they themselves adopted the, at first, opprobrious name in , and some years later were incorporated by charter. they then removed from soper's lane (now queen street) to bucklersbury, and waxed rich and powerful. the grocers met at five several places previous to building a hall; first at the town house of the abbots of bury, st. mary axe; in they moved to the house of the abbot of st. edmund; in to the rynged hall, near garlick-hythe; and afterwards to the hotel of the abbot of st. cross. in they flitted to the cornet's tower, in bucklersbury, a place which edward iii. had used for his money exchange. in they purchased of lord fitzwalter the chapel of the fratres du sac (brothers of the sack) in old jewry, which had originally been a jewish synagogue; and having, some years afterwards, purchased lord fitzwalter's house adjoining the chapel, began to build a hall, which was opened in . the friars' old chapel contained a buttery, pantry, cellar, parlour, kitchen, turret, clerk's house, a garden, and a set of almshouses in the front yard was added. the word "grocer," says ravenhill, in his "short account of the company of grocers" ( ), was used to express a trader _en gros_ (wholesale). as early as , the first complement of twenty-one members of this guild was raised to ; and in , sixteen grocers were aldermen. in , nicholas chaucer, a relation of the poet, was admitted as a grocer; and in , john churchman (richard ii.) obtained for the grocers the great privilege of the custody, with the city, of the "king's beam," in woolwharf, for weighing wool in the port of london, the first step to a london custom house. the beam was afterwards removed to bucklersbury. henry viii. took away the keepership of the great beam from the city, but afterwards restored it. the corporation still have their weights at the weigh house, little eastcheap, and the porters there are the tackle porters, so called to distinguish them from the ticket porters. in , the grocers obtained the important right of sharing the office of garbeller of spices with the city. the garbeller had the right to enter any shop or warehouse to view and search for drugs, and to garble and cleanse them. the office gradually fell into desuetude, and is last mentioned in the company's books in july, , when the city garbeller paid a fine of £ , and s. per annum, for leave to hold his office for life. the grocers seem to have at one time dealt in whale-oil and wool. during the civil war the grocers suffered, like all their brother companies. in , the parliament exacted £ per week from them towards the support of troops, £ for city defences, and £ for wounded soldiers. the company had soon to sell £ , worth of plate. a further demand for arms, and a sum of £ , for the defence of the city, drove them to sell all the rest of their plate, except the value of £ . in , the watchful committee of safety, sitting at haberdashers' hall, finding the company indebted £ to one richard greenough, a cavalier delinquent, compelled them to pay that sum. no wonder, then, that the grocers shouted at the restoration, spent £ on the coronation pageant, and provided sixty riders at charles's noisy entrance into london. the same year, sir john frederick, being chosen mayor, and not being, as rule required, a member of one of the twelve great companies, left the barber chirurgeons, and joined the grocers, who welcomed him with a great pageant. in , the grocers took a zealous part with their friends and allies, the druggists, against the college of physicians, who were trying to obtain a bill granting them power of search, seizure, fine, and imprisonment. the plague year no election feast was held. the great fire followed, and not only greatly damaged grocers' hall, but also consumed the whole of their house property, excepting a few small tenements in grub street. they found it necessary to try and raise £ , to pay their debts, to sell their melted plate, and to add ninety-four members to the livery. only succeeding, amid the general distress, in raising £ , , the company was almost bankrupt, their hall being seized, and attachments laid on their rent. by a great effort, however, they wore round, called more freemen on the livery, and added in two months eighty-one new members to the court of assistants; so that before the revolution of they had restored their hall and mowed down most of their rents. indeed, one of their most brilliant epochs was in , when william iii. accepted the office of their sovereign master. [illustration: exterior of grocers' hall.] some writers credit the grocers' company with the enrolment of five kings, several princes, eight dukes, three earls, and twenty lords. of these five kings, mr. herbert could, however, only trace charles ii. and william iii. their list of honorary members is one emblazoned with many great names, including sir philip sidney (at whose funeral they assisted), pitt, lord chief justice tenterden, the marquis of cornwallis, george canning, &c. of grocer mayors, strype notes sixty-four between and alone. the garden of the hall must have been a pleasant place in the old times, as it is now. it is mentioned in as having vines spreading up before the parlour windows. it had also an arbour; and in it was generously thrown open to the citizens generally, who had petitioned for this privilege. it contained hedge-rows and a bowling alley, with an ancient tower of stone or brick, called "the turret," at the north-west corner, which had probably formed part of lord fitzwalter's mansion. the garden remained unchanged till the new hall was built in , when it was much curtailed, and in it was nearly cut in half by the enlargement of princes street. for ground which had cost the grocers, in , only £ s. d., they received from the bank of england more than £ , . the hall was often lent for dinners, funerals, county feasts, and weddings; and in the gentlemen of gray's inn dined there with the gentlemen of the middle temple. this system breeding abuses, was limited in . in the time of the commonwealth, grocers' hall was the place of meeting for parliamentary committees. among other subjects there discussed, we find the selection of able ministers to regulate church government, and providing moneys for the army; and in the grand committee of safety held its sittings in this hall. [illustration: interior of grocers' hall.] in the grocers had to petition general fairfax not to quarter his troops in the hall of a charitable company like theirs. in a grand entertainment was given by the grocers to cromwell and fairfax. after hearing _two_ sermons at christ's church, preached by mr. goodwin and dr. owen, cromwell, his officers, the speaker, and the judges, dined together. "no drinking of healths," says a puritan paper of the time, "nor other uncivill concomitants formerly of such great meetings, nor any other music than the drum and trumpet--a feast, indeed, of christians and chieftains, whereas others were rather of chretiens and cormorants." the surplus food was sent to the london prisons, and £ distributed to the poor. the aldermen and council afterwards went to general fairfax at his house in queen street, and, in the name of the city, presented him with a large basin and ewer of beaten gold; while to cromwell they sent a great present of plate, value £ , and pieces of gold. they afterwards gave a still grander feast to cromwell in his more glorious time, and one at the restoration to general monk. on the latter feast they expended £ , and enrolled "honest george" a brother of the company. the grocers' hall might never have been rebuilt after the great fire, so crippled was the company, but for the munificence of sir john cutler, a rich grocer, whom pope (not always regardful of truth) has bitterly satirised. sir john rebuilt the parlour and dining-room in - , and was rewarded by "a strong vote of thanks," and by his statue and picture being placed in the hall as eternal records of the company's esteem and gratitude. two years later grocers' hall was granted to the parishioners of st. mildred as a chapel till their own church could be rebuilt. the garden turret, used as a record office, was fitted up for the clerk's residence, and a meeting place for the court; and, "for better order, decorum, and gravity," pipes and pots were forbidden in the court-room during the meetings. at grocers' hall, "to my great surprise," says vivacious pennant, "i met again with sir john cutler, grocer, in marble and on canvas. in the first he is represented standing, in a flowing wig, waved rather than curled, a laced cravat, and a furred gown, with the folds not ungraceful; in all, except where the dress is inimical to the sculptor's art, it may be called a good performance. by his portrait we may learn that this worthy wore a black wig, and was a good-looking man. he was created a baronet, november th, ; so that he certainly had some claim of gratitude with the restored monarch. he died in . his kinsman and executor, edmund boulton, esq., expended £ , on his funeral expenses. he served as master of the company in and , in , and again a fourth time." in the hall was renovated at an expense of £ , by sir john moore, so as to make it fit for the residence of the lord mayor. moore kept his mayoralty here, paying a rent of £ . it continued to be used by the lord mayors till , when the company, now grown rich, withdrew their permission. in it was let to the bank of england, who held their court there till the bank was built in . the company's present hall was built in , and repaired in , since which the whole has been restored, the statue of sir john cutler moved from its neglected post in the garden, and the arms of the most illustrious grocers of antiquity set up. the grocers' charities are numerous; they give away annually £ among the poor of the company, and they have had £ , left them to lend to poor members of the community. before , boyle says, the company gave away about £ a year. among the bravest of the grocers, we must mention sir john philpot, mayor, , who fitted out a fleet that captured john mercer, a scotch freebooter, and took fifteen spanish ships. he afterwards transported an english army to brittany in his own ships, and released more than , of our victualling vessels. john churchman, sheriff in , was the founder of the custom house. sir thomas knolles, mayor in and , rebuilt st. antholin's, watling street. sir robert chichele (a relation of archbishop chichele), mayor in - , gave the ground for rebuilding the church of st. stephen, walbrook, which his descendant, sir thomas (mayor and grocer), helped to rebuild after the great fire. sir william sevenoke was founder of the school and college at sevenoaks, kent. sir john welles (mayor in ), built the standard in chepe, helped to build the guildhall chapel, built the south aisle of st. antholin's, and repaired the miry way leading to westminster (the strand). sir stephen brown, mayor, , imported cargoes of rye from dantzic, during a great dearth, and as fuller quaintly says, "first showed londoners the way to the barn door." sir john crosby (grocer and sheriff in ), lived in great splendour at crosby house, in bishopsgate street: he gave great sums for civic purposes, and repaired london wall, london bridge, and bishopsgate. sir henry keble (mayor, ) was six times master of the grocers' company: he left bequests to the company, and gave £ , to rebuild st. antholin's, budge row. lawrence sheriff, warden , was founder of the great school at rugby. "the rivulet or running water," says maitland, "denominated walbrook, ran through the middle of the city above ground, till about the middle of the fourteenth century, when it was arched over, since which time it has served as a common sewer, wherein, at the depth of sixteen feet, under st. mildred's church steeple, runs a great and rapid stream. at the south-east corner of grocers' alley, in the poultry, stood a beautiful chapel, called corpus christi and sancta maria, which was founded in the reign of edward iii. by a pious man, for a master and brethren, for whose support he endowed the same with lands, to the amount of twenty pounds per annum." "it hath been a common speech," says stow (elizabeth), "that when walbrook did lie open, barges were rowed out of the thames, or towed up so far, and therefore the place hath ever since been called the _old barge_. also, on the north side of this street, directly over against the said bucklersbury, was one antient strong tower of stone, at which tower king edward iii., in the eighteenth of his reign, by the name of the king's house, called _cornets tower_, in london, did appoint to be his exchange of money there to be kept. in the twenty-ninth he granted it to frydus guynisane and lindus bardoile, merchants of london for £ the year; and in the thirty-second of his reign, he gave it to his college, or free chapel of st. stephen, at westminster, by the name of his tower, called cornettes-tower, at bucklesbury, in london. this tower of late years was taken down by one buckle, a grocer, meaning, in place thereof, to have set up and builded a goodly frame of timber; but the said buckle greedily labouring to pull down the old tower, a piece thereof fell upon him, which so bruised him, that his life was thereby shortened; and another, that married his widow, set up the new prepared frame of timber, and finished the work. "this whole street, called bucklesbury, on both sides, throughout, is possessed by grocers, and apothecaries toward the west end thereof. on the south side breaketh out some other short lane, called in records _peneritch street_. it reacheth but to st. syth's lane, and st. syth's church is the farthest part thereof, for by the west end of the said church beginneth needlers lane." "i have heard," says pennant, "that bucklersbury was, in the reign of king william, noted for the great resort of ladies of fashion, to purchase tea, fans, and other indian goods. king william, in some of his letters, appears to be angry with his queen for visiting these shops, which, it would seem, by the following lines of prior, were sometimes perverted to places of intrigue, for, speaking of hans carvel's wife, the poet says:-- "'the first of all the town was told, where newest indian things were sold; so in a morning, without boddice, slipt sometimes out to mrs. thody's, to cheapen tea, or buy a skreen; what else could so much virtue mean?'" in the time of queen elizabeth this street was inhabited by chemists, druggists, and apothecaries. mouffet, in his treatise on foods, calls on them to decide whether sweet smells correct pestilent air; and adds, that bucklersbury being replete with physic, drugs, and spicery, and being perfumed in the time of the plague with the pounding of spices, melting of gum, and making perfumes, escaped that great plague, whereof such multitudes died, that scarce any house was left unvisited. shakespeare mentions bucklersbury in his _merry wives of windsor_, written at queen elizabeth's request. he makes falstaff say to mrs. ford-- "what made me love thee? let that persuade thee, there's something extraordinary in thee. come, i cannot cog, and say thou art this and that, like a many of these lisping hawthorn-buds, that come like women in men's apparel, and smell like bucklersbury in simple-time; i cannot; but i love thee, none but thee, and thou deservedst it." (_merry wives of windsor_, act iii. sc. .) the apothecaries' street is also mentioned in _westward ho!_ that dangerous play that brought ben jonson into trouble:-- "_mrs. tenterhook._ go into bucklersbury, and fetch me two ounces of preserved melons; look there be no tobacco taken in the shop when he weighs it." and ben johnson, in a self-asserting poem to his bookseller, says:-- "nor have my title-leaf on post or walls, or in cleft sticks advanced to make calls for termers, or some clerk-like serving man, who scarce can spell th' hard names, whose knight less can. if without these vile arts it will not sell, send it to bucklersbury, there 'twill well." that good old norwich physician, sir thomas browne, also alludes to the herbalists' street in his wonderful "religio medico:"--"i know," says he, "most of the plants of my country, and of those about me, yet methinks i do not know so many as when i did but know a hundred, and had scarcely ever simpled further than cheapside." chapter xxxviii. the mansion house. the palace of the lord mayor--the old stocks' market--a notable statue of charles ii.--the mansion house described--the egyptian hall--works of art in the mansion house--the election of the lord mayor--lord mayor's day--the duties of a lord mayor--days of the year on which the lord mayor holds high state--the patronage of the lord mayor--his powers--the lieutenancy of the city of london--the conservancy of the thames and medway--the lord mayor's advisers--the mansion house household and expenditure--theodore hook--lord mayor scropps--the lord mayor's insignia--the state barge--the _maria wood_. the lord mayors in old times often dwelt in the neighbourhood of the old jewry; but in lord mayor perry laid the first stone of the present dull and stately mansion house, and sir crisp gascoigne, , was the first lord mayor that resided in it. the architect, dance, selected the greek style for the city palace. the present palace of the lord mayor stands on the site of the old stocks' market, built for the sale of fish and flesh by henry walis, mayor in the th year of the reign of edward i. before this time a pair of stocks had stood there, and they gave their name to the new market house. walis had designed this market to help to maintain london bridge, and the bridge keeper had for a long time power to grant leases for the market shops. in - , john de gisors, mayor, gave a congregation of honest men of the commonalty the power of letting the stocks' market shops. in the reign of edward ii. the stocks let for £ s. d. a year, and was one of the five privileged markets of london. it was rebuilt in the reign of henry iv., and in the year there were here twenty-five fishmongers and eighteen butchers. in the reign of henry viii. a stone conduit was erected. the market-place was about feet long and feet broad, and on the east side were rows of trees "very pleasant to the inhabitants." on the north side were twenty-two covered fruit stalls, at the south-west corner butchers' stalls, and the rest of the place was taken up by gardeners who sold fruit, roots, herbs and flowers. it is said that that rich scented flower, the stock, derived its name from being sold in this market. "up farther north," says strype, "is the stocks' market. as to the present state of which it is converted to a quite contrary use; for instead of fish and flesh sold there before the fire, are now sold fruits, roots and herbs; for which it is very considerable and much resorted unto, being of note for having the choicest in their kind of all sorts, surpassing all other markets in london." "all these things have we at london," says shadwell, in his "bury fair," ; "the produce of the best corn-fields at greenhithe; hay, straw, and cattle at smithfield, with horses too. where is such a garden in europe as the stocks' market? where such a river as the thames? such ponds and decoys as in leadenhall market for your fish and fowl?" "at the north end of the market place," says strype, admiringly, "by a water conduit pipe, is erected a nobly great statue of king charles ii. on horseback, trampling on slaves, standing on a pedestal with dolphins cut in niches, all of freestone, and encompassed with handsome iron grates. this statue was made and erected at the sole charge of sir robert viner, alderman, knight and baronet, an honourable, worthy, and generous magistrate of this city." this statue of charles had a droll origin. it was originally intended for a statue of john sobieski, the polish king who saved vienna from the turks. in the first year of the restoration, the enthusiastic viner purchased the unfinished statue abroad. sobieski's stern head was removed by latham, the head of charles substituted, and the turbaned turk, on whom sobieski trampled, became a defeated cromwell. "could robin viner have foreseen the glorious triumphs of his master, the wood-church statue gold had been, which now is made of alabaster; but wise men think, had it been wood, 'twere for a bankrupt king too good. "those that the fabric well consider, do of it diversely discourse; some pass their censure of the rider, others their judgment of the horse; most say the steed's a goodly thing, but all agree 'tis a lewd king." (_the history of insipids; a lampoon, , by the lord rochester._) the statue was set up may , , and on that day the stocks' market ran with claret. the stocks' market was removed in to farringdon street, and was then called fleet market. the sobieski statue was taken down and presented by the city in to robert viner, esq., a descendant of the convivial mayor who pulled charles ii. back "to take t'other bottle." "this mansion house," says dodsley's "guide to london," "is very substantially built of portland stone, and has a portico of six lofty fluted columns, of the corinthian order, in the front; the same order being continued in pilasters both under the pediment, and on each side. the basement storey is very massive and built in rustic. in the centre of this storey is the door which leads to the kitchens, cellars, and other offices; and on each side rises a flight of steps of very considerable extent, leading up to the portico, in the midst of which is the door which leads to the apartments and offices where business is transacted. the stone balustrade of the stairs is continued along the front of the portico, and the columns, which are wrought in the proportions of palladio, support a large angular pediment, adorned with a very noble piece in bas-relief, representing the dignity and opulence of the city of london, by mr. taylor." the lady crowned with turrets represents london. she is trampling on envy, who lies struggling on her back. london's left arm rests on a shield, and in her right she holds a wand which mightily resembles a yard measure. on her right side stands a cupid, holding the cap of liberty over his shoulder at the end of a staff. a little further lolls the river thames, who is emptying a large vase, and near him is an anchor and cable. on london's left is plenty, kneeling and pouring out fruit from a cornucopia, and behind plenty are two naked boys with bales of goods, as emblems of commerce. the complaint is that the principal figures are too large, and crowd the rest, who, compelled to grow smaller and smaller, seem sheltering from the rain. beneath the portico are two series of windows, and above these there used to be an attic storey for the servants, generally known as "the mayor's nest," with square windows, crowned with a balustrade. it is now removed. the mansion house is an oblong, has an area in the middle, and at the farthest end of it is situated the grand and lofty egyptian hall (so called from some egyptian details that have now disappeared). this noble banquet-room was designed by the earl of burlington, and was intended to resemble an egyptian chamber described by vitruvius. it has two side-screens of lofty columns supporting a vaulted roof, and is lit by a large west window. it can dine guests. in the side walls are the niches, filled with sculptured groups or figures, some of the best of them by foley. "to make it regular in rank," says the author of "london and its environs" ( ), "the architect has raised a similar building on the front, which is the upper part of a dancing-gallery. this rather hurts than adorns the face of the building." near the end, at each side, is a window of extraordinary height, placed between complex corinthian pilasters, and extending to the top of the attic storey. in former times the sides of the mansion house were darkened by the houses that crowded it, and the front required an area before it. it has been seriously proposed lately to take the poultry front of the mansion house away, and place it west, facing queen victoria street. in a london guide of the state bed at the mansion house, which cost three thousand guineas, is spoken of with awe and wonder. there are, says timbs, other dining-rooms, as the venetian parlour, wilkes's parlour, &c. the drawing-room and ball-room are superbly decorated; above the latter is the justice-room (constructed in ), where the lord mayor sits daily. in a contiguous apartment was the state bed. there is a fine gallery of portraits and other pictures. the kitchen is a large hall, provided with ranges, each of them large enough to roast an entire ox. the vessels for boiling vegetables are not pots, but tanks. the stewing range is a long, broad iron pavement laid down over a series of furnaces. the spits are huge cages formed of iron bars, and turned by machinery. at the close of the exhibition of , the corporation of london, with a view to encourage art, voted £ , to be expended in statuary for the egyptian hall. among the leading works we may mention "alastor" and "hermione," by mr. j. durham; "egeria" and "the elder brother," in "comus," by mr. j.h. foley; chaucer's "griselda," by mr. calder marshall; "the morning star," by mr. g.h. bailey; and "the faithful shepherdess," by mr. lucas durrant. in the saloon is the "caractacus" of foley, and the "sardanapalus" of mr. weekes. the duties of a lord mayor have been elaborately and carefully condensed by the late mr. fairholt, who had made city ceremonies the study of half his life. "none," says our authority, "can serve the office of lord mayor unless he be an alderman of london, who must previously have served the office of sheriff, though it is not necessary that a sheriff should be an alderman. the sheriffs are elected by the livery of london, the only requisite for the office being, that he is a freeman and liveryman of the city, and that he possesses property sufficient to serve the office of sheriff creditably, in all its ancient splendour and hospitality, to do which generally involves an expenditure of about £ , . there are fees averaging from £ to £ belonging to the office, but these are given to the under-sheriff by all respectable and honourable men, as it is considered very disreputable for the sheriff to take any of them. "the lord mayor has the privilege, on any day between the th of april and the th of june, of nominating any one or more persons (not exceeding nine in the whole) to be submitted to the livery on midsummer day, for them to elect the two sheriffs for the year ensuing. this is generally done at a public dinner, when the lord mayor proposes the healths of such persons as he intends to nominate for sheriffs. it is generally done as a compliment, and considered as an honour; but in those cases where the parties have an objection to serve, it sometimes gives offence, as, upon the lord mayor declaring in the court of aldermen the names of those he proposes, the macebearer immediately waits upon them, and gives them formal notice; when, if they do not intend to serve, they are excused, upon paying, at the next court of aldermen, four hundred guineas; but if they allow their names to remain on the list until elected by the livery, the fine is £ , . [illustration: the mansion house kitchen.] "the lord mayor is elected by the livery of london, in common hall assembled (guildhall), on michaelmas day, the th of september, previous to which election the lord mayor and corporation attend church in state; and on their return, the names of all the aldermen who have not served the office of lord mayor are submitted in rotation by the recorder, and the show of hands taken upon each; when the sheriffs declare which two names have the largest show of hands, and these two are returned to the court of aldermen, who elect one to be the lord mayor for the year ensuing. (the office is compulsory to an alderman, but he is excused upon the payment of £ , .) the one selected is generally the one next in rotation, unless he has not paid twenty shillings in the pound, or there is any blot in his private character, for it does not follow that an alderman having served the office of sheriff must necessarily become lord mayor; the selection rests first with the livery, and afterwards with the court of aldermen; and in case of bankruptcy, or compounding with his creditors, an alderman is passed over, and even a junior put in his place, until he has paid twenty shillings in the pound to all his creditors. the selection being made from the nominees, the lord mayor and aldermen return to the livery, and the recorder declares upon whom the choice of the aldermen has fallen, when he is publicly called forth, the chain put round his neck, and he returns thanks to the livery for the honour they have conferred upon him. he is now styled the 'right honourable the lord mayor elect,' and takes rank next to the lord mayor, who takes him home in the state carriage to the mansion house, to dine with the aldermen. this being his first ride in the state coach, a fee of a guinea is presented to the coachman, and half-a-guinea to the postilion; the city trumpeters who attend also receive a gratuity. the attention of the lord mayor elect is now entirely directed to the establishment of his household, and he is beset by applications of all sorts, and tradesmen of every grade and kind, until he has filled up his appointments, which must be done by the th of november, when he is publicly installed in his office in the guildhall. "the election of mayor is subject to the approbation of the crown, which is communicated by the lord chancellor to the lord mayor elect, at an audience in the presence of the recorder, who presents him to the lord chancellor for the purpose of receiving her majesty's pleasure and approbation of the man of the city's choice. this ceremony is generally gone through on the first day of michaelmas term, previous to receiving the judges. the lord mayor elect is attended to the chancellor's private residence by the aldermen, sheriffs, under-sheriffs, the swordbearers, and all the city officers. in the evening he gives his first state dinner, in robes and full-dressed. [illustration: the mansion house in . (_from a print published for stow's "survey._")] "on the th of november the lord mayor elect is sworn into office publicly in guildhall, having previously breakfasted with the lord mayor at the mansion house; they are attended at this ceremony, as well as at the breakfast, by the members and officers of the court of the livery company to which they respectively belong, in their gowns. after the swearing in at guildhall, when the mayor publicly takes the oaths, accepts the sword, the mace, the sceptre, and the city purse, he proceeds with the late mayor to the mansion house, and they conjointly give what is called the 'farewell dinner;' the lord mayor elect proceeding to his own private residence in the evening, a few days being allowed for the removal of the late lord mayor. "the next day, being what is popularly known as 'lord mayor's day,' and which is observed as a close holiday in the city, the shops are closed, as are also the streets in all the principal thoroughfares, except for the carriages engaged in the procession. he used formerly to go to westminster hall by water, in the state barge, attended by the state barges of the city companies, but now by land, and is again sworn in, in the court of exchequer, to uphold and support the crown, and make a due return of all fines and fees passing through his office during the year. he returns in the same state to guildhall about three o'clock in the afternoon (having left the mansion house about twelve o'clock), where, in conjunction with the sheriffs, he gives a most splendid banquet to the royal family, the judges, ministers of state, ambassadors, or such of them as will accept his invitation, the corporation, and such distinguished foreigners as may be visiting in the country. at this banquet the king and queen attend the first year after their coronation; it is given at the expense of the city, and it generally costs from eight to ten thousand pounds; but when the city entertained the prince of wales, afterwards george iv., and the allied sovereigns in , it cost twenty thousand pounds. on all other lord mayor's days the expense is borne by the lord mayor and the sheriffs, the former paying half, and the latter one-fourth each; the mayor's half generally averaging from twelve to fourteen hundred pounds. "the next morning the new lord mayor enters upon the duties of his office. from ten to twelve he is engaged in giving audience to various applications; at twelve he enters the justice-room, where he is often detained until four in the afternoon, and this is his daily employment. his lordship holds his first court of aldermen previous to any other court, to which he goes in full state; the same week he holds his first court of common council, also in state. he attends the first sessions of the central criminal court at justice hall, in the old bailey; being the chief commissioner, he takes precedence of all the judges, and sits in a chair in the centre of the bench, the swordbearer placing the sword of justice behind it; this seat is never occupied in the absence of the lord mayor, except by an alderman who has passed the chair. the court is opened at ten o'clock on monday; the judges come on wednesday; the lord mayor takes the chair for an hour, and then retires till five o'clock, when he entertains the judges at dinner in the court-house, which is expected to be done every day during the sitting of the court, which takes place every month, and lasts about eight days; the lord mayor and the sheriffs dividing the expenses of the table between them. "plough monday is the next grand day, when the lord mayor receives the inquest of every ward in the city, who make a presentment of the election of all ward officers in the city, who are elected on st. thomas's day, december st, and also of any nuisances or grievances of which the citizens may have to complain, which are referred to the court of aldermen, who sit in judgment on these matters on the next court day. in former times, on the first sunday in epiphany, the lord mayor, aldermen, and corporation, went in state to the church of st. lawrence, guildhall, and there received the sacrament, but this custom has of late years been omitted. "if any public fast is ordered by the king, the lord mayor and corporation attend st. paul's cathedral in their black robes; and if a thanksgiving, they appear in scarlet. if an address is to be presented to the throne, the whole corporation go in state, the lord mayor wearing his gold gown. (of these gowns only a certain number are allowed, by act of parliament, to public officers as a costly badge of distinction; the lord chancellor and the master of the rolls are among the privileged persons.) on easter monday and tuesday the lord mayor attends christ church (of which he is a member), on which occasion the whole of the blue-coat boys, nurses, and beadles, master, clerk, and other officers, walk in procession. the president, freemen, and other officers of the royal hospital attend the church to hear the sermon, and a statement of the income and expenditure of each of the hospitals, over which the mayor has jurisdiction, is read from the pulpit. a public dinner is given at christ's hospital on the monday evening, and a similar one at st. bartholomew's on the tuesday. on the monday evening the lord mayor gives the grandest dinner of the year in the egyptian hall, at the mansion house, to persons, at which some of the royal family often attend, a ball taking place in the evening. the next day, before going to church, the lord mayor gives a purse of fifty guineas, in sixpences, shillings, and half-crowns, to the boys of christ's hospital, who pass before him through the mansion house, each receiving a piece of silver (fresh from the mint), two plum buns, and a glass of wine. on the first sunday in term the lord mayor and corporation receive the judges at st. paul's, and hear a sermon from the lord mayor's chaplain, after which his lordship entertains the party at dinner, either on that day or any other, according to his own feeling of the propriety of sunday dinners. "in the month of may, when the festival of the sons of the clergy is generally held in st. paul's, the lord mayor attends, after which the party dine at merchant taylors' hall. some of the royal family generally attend; always the archbishop and a great body of the clergy. in the same month, the lord mayor attends st. paul's in state, to hear a sermon preached before the society for the propagation of the gospel, at which all the bishops and archbishops attend, with others of the clergy; after which the lord mayor gives them a grand dinner; and on another day in the same month, the archbishop of canterbury gives a similar state dinner to the lord mayor, aldermen, sheriffs, and the bishops, at lambeth palace." in june the lord mayor used to attend the anniversary of the charity schools in st. paul's in state, and in the evening to preside at the public dinner, but this has of late been discontinued. "on midsummer day, the lord mayor holds a common hall for the election of sheriffs for the ensuing year; and on the rd of september, the lord mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs used to go in state to proclaim bartholomew fair, now a thing of the past. they called at the gaol of newgate on their way, and the governor brought out a cup of wine, from which the lord mayor drank. "on st. matthias' day ( st september) the lord mayor attends christ's hospital, to hear a sermon, when a little latin oration is made by the two senior scholars, who afterwards carry round a glove, and collect money enough to pay their first year's expenses at college. then the beadles of the various hospitals of which the lord mayor is governor deliver up their staves of office, which are returned if no fault is to be attributed to them; and this is done to denote the mayor's right to remove them at his will, or upon just cause assigned, although elected by their respective governors." on the th of september, the lord mayor swears in the sheriffs at guildhall, a public breakfast having been first given by them at the hall of the company to which the senior sheriff belongs. on the th of september, the lord mayor proceeds with the sheriffs to westminster, in state; and the sheriffs are again sworn into office before the barons of the exchequer. the senior alderman below the chair (the next in rotation for lord mayor) cuts some sticks, delivers six horse-shoes, and counts sixty-one hob-nails, as suit and service for some lands held by the city under the crown. the barons are then invited to the banquet given by the sheriffs on their return to the city, at which the lord mayor presides in state. "the patronage of the lord mayor consists in the appointment of a chaplain, who receives a full set of canonicals, lives and boards in the mansion house, has a suite of rooms and a servant at command, rides in the state carriage, and attends the lord mayor whenever required. he is presented to the king at the first levée, and receives a purse of fifty guineas from the court of aldermen, and a like sum from the court of common council, for the sermons he preaches before the corporation and the judges at st. paul's the first sundays in term. the next appointment the lord mayor has at his disposal is the clerk of the cocket office, whom he pays out of his own purse. if a harbour master, of whom there are four, dies during the year, the lord mayor appoints his successor. the salary is £ a year, and is paid by the chamberlain. he also appoints the water-bailiff's assistants, if any vacancy occurs. he presents a boy to christ's hospital, in addition to the one he is entitled to present as an alderman; and he has a presentation of an annuity of £ s. d., under will, to thirteen pensioners, provided a vacancy occurs during his year of office. £ is given to a poor soldier, and the same sum to a poor sailor. "the powers of the lord mayor over the city, although abridged, like the sovereign power over the state, are still much more extensive than is generally supposed. the rights and privileges of the chief magistrate of the city and its corporation are nearly allied to those of the constitution of the state. the lord mayor has the badges of royalty attached to his office--the sceptre, the swords of justice and mercy, and the mace. the gold chain, one of the most ancient honorary distinctions, and which may be traced from the eastern manner of conferring dignity, is worn by him, among other honorary badges; and, having passed through the office of lord mayor, the alderman continues to wear it during his life. he controls the city purse, the chamberlain delivering it into his hands, together with the sceptre, on the day he is sworn into office. he has the right of precedence in the city before all the royal family, which right was disputed by the prince of wales, in st. paul's cathedral, during the mayoralty of sir james shaw, but maintained by him, and approved and confirmed by the king (george iii.). the gates of the city are in his custody, and it is usual to close the only one now remaining, temple bar, on the approach of the sovereign when on a visit to the city, who knocks and formally requests admission, the mayor attending in person to grant it, and receive the visit of royalty; and upon proclaiming war or peace, he also proceeds in state to temple bar, to admit the heralds. soldiers cannot march through the city, in any large numbers, without the mayor's permission, first obtained by the commander-in-chief. "the lieutenancy of the city of london is in commission. the lord mayor, being the chief commissioner, issues a new commission, whenever he pleases, by application to the lord chancellor, through the secretary of state. he names in the commission all the aldermen and deputies of the city of london, the directors of the bank, the members for the city, and such of his immediate friends and relations as he pleases. the commission, being under the great seal, gives all the parties named therein the right to be styled esquires, and the name once in the commission remains, unless removed for any valid reason. "the lord mayor enjoys the right of private audience with the crown; and when an audience is wished for, it is usual to make the request through the remembrancer, but not necessary. when alderman wilson was lord mayor, he used to apply by letter to the lord chamberlain. in attending levees or drawing-rooms, the lord mayor has the privilege of the _entrée_, and, in consideration of the important duties he has to perform in the city, and to save his time, he is allowed to drive direct into the ambassadors' court at st. james's, without going round by constitution hill. he is summoned as a privy councillor on the death of the king; and the tower pass-word is sent to him regularly, signed by the sovereign. "he has the uncontrolled conservancy of the river thames and the waters of the medway, from london bridge to rochester down the river, and from london bridge to oxford up the river. he holds courts of conservancy whenever he sees it necessary, and summons juries in kent, from london and middlesex, who are compelled to go on the river in boats to view and make presentments. in the mayoralty of alderman wilson, these courts were held in the state barge, on the water, at the spot with which the inquiry was connected, for the convenience of the witnesses attending from the villages near. it is usual for him to visit oxford once in fourteen, and rochester once in seven years.[ ] "alderman wilson, in , was the last lord mayor (says fairholt, whose book was published in ) who visited the western boundary; and he, at the request of the court of aldermen, made windsor the principal seat of the festivities, going no farther than cliefden, and visiting magna charta island on his return. alderman pirie was the last who visited the eastern boundary, the whole party staying two days at rochester. the lord mayor is privileged by the city to go these journeys every year, should he see any necessity for it; but the expense is so great (about £ , ) that it is only performed at these distant periods, although alderman wilson visited the western boundary in the thirteenth, and alderman pirie in the fifth year. a similar short view is taken as far as twickenham yearly, in the month of july, at a cost of about £ , when the lord mayor is attended by the aldermen, the sheriffs, and their ladies, with the same show and attendance as on the more infrequent visits. his lordship has also a committee to assist in the duties of his office, who have a shallop of their own, and take a view up and down the river, as far as they like to go, once or twice a month during summer, at an expense of some hundreds per annum. "the lord mayor may be said to have a veto upon the proceedings of the courts both of aldermen and common council, as well as upon the court of livery in common hall assembled, neither of these courts being able to meet unless convened by him; and he can at any time dissolve the court by removing the sword and mace from the table, and declaring the business at an end; but this is considered an ungracious display of power when exercised. "the lord mayor may call upon the recorder for his advice whenever he may stand in need of it, as well as for that of the common serjeant, the four city pleaders, and the city solicitor, from whom he orders prosecutions at the city expense whenever he thinks the public good requires it. the salary of the recorder is £ , per annum, besides fees; the common serjeant £ , , with an income from other sources of £ per annum. the solicitor is supposed to make £ , per annum. "the lord mayor resides in the mansion house, the first stone of which was laid the th of october, . this house, with the furniture, cost £ , s. d., the principal part of which was paid from the fines received from persons who wished to be excused from serving the office of sheriff. about £ , was paid out of the city's income. the plate cost £ , s. d., which has been very considerably added to since by the lord mayors for the time being, averaging about £ per annum. "attached to the household is-- _£ s. d._ the chaplain, at a salary of the swordbearer the macebearer water-bailiff city marshal marshal's man clerk of the cocket office gate porter seven trumpeters "these sums, added to the allowance to the lord mayor, and the ground-rent and taxes of the mansion house (amounting to about £ s. d. per annum), and other expenses, it is expected, cost the city about £ , s. d. per annum. there are also four attorneys of the mayor's court, who formerly boarded at the mansion house, but are now allowed £ per annum in lieu of the table. the plate-butler and the housekeeper have each £ s. per annum as a compliment from the city, and in addition to their wages, paid by the lord mayor (£ per annum to the housekeeper, and £ s. per week to the plate-butler). the marshal's clothing costs £ s. per annum, and that of the marshal's man £ s. d. "there is also-- _£ s. d._ a yeoman of the chamber, at three serjeants of ditto,[ ] each master of the ceremonies serjeant of the channel yeoman of the channel two yeomen of the waterside, each deputy water-bailiff water-bailiff's first young man the common hunt's young man water-bailiff's second young man swordbearer's young man "these sums and others, added to the previous amount, make an annual amount of expense connected with the office of lord mayor of £ , s. d. "most of the last-named officers walk before the lord mayor, dressed in black silk gowns, on all state occasions (one acting as his lordship's train-bearer), and dine with the household at a table provided at about s. a head, exclusive of wine, which they are allowed without restraint. in the mayoralty of alderman atkins, some dispute having arisen with some of the household respecting their tables, the city abolished the daily table, giving each of the officers a sum of money instead, deducting £ , a year from the lord mayor's allowance, and requiring him only to provide the swordbearer's table on state days." the estimate made for the expenditure at the mansion house by the committee of the corporation, is founded upon the average of many years, but in such mayoralties as curtis, pirie, and wilson, far more must have been spent. it is said that only one lord mayor ever saved anything out of his salary. "sir james saunderson, mayor in - , left behind him a minute account of the expenses of his year of office, for the edification of his successors. the document is lengthy, but we shall select a few of the more striking items. paid--butcher for twelve months, £ s. d.; one item in this account is for meat given to the prisoners at ludgate, at a cost of £ s. d. the wines are, of course, expensive. --paid, late lord mayor's stock, £ s. d.; hock, dozen, £ s. d.; champagne, ditto, at s., £ s. d.; claret, ditto, at s. d. per dozen, £ s. d.; burgundy, ditto, £ s. d.; port, pipes, dozen, £ s. d.; draught ditto, for lord mayor's day, £ s. d.; ditto, ditto, for easter monday, £ s. d.--£ s. d.; madeira, dozen, £ s. d.; sherry, dozen, £ s. d.; lisbon, one hogshead, at s. per dozen, £ s. d.; bottles to make good, broke and stole, £ s. d.; arrack, £ s. d.; brandy, gallons, £ s. d.; rum, - / ditto, £ s. d. total, £ , s. d." [illustration: interior of the egyptian hall.] "these items of costume are curious:--lady mayoress, november .--a hoop, £ s. d.; point ruffles, £ s. d.; treble blond ditto, £ s. d.; a fan, £ s. d.; a cap and lappets, £ s. d.; a cloak and sundries, £ s. d.; hair ornaments, £ s. d.; a cap, £ s. d.; sundries, £ s. d. , jan. .--a silk, for th nov., - / guineas per yard, £ s. d.; a petticoat (madame beauvais), £ s. d.; a gold chain, £ s. d.; silver silk, £ s. d.; clouded satin, £ s. d.; a petticoat for easter, £ s. d.; millinery, for ditto, £ s. d.; hair-dressing, £ s. d. july th.--a petticoat, £ s. d.; millinery, £ s. d.; mantua-maker, in full, £ s. d.; milliner, in full, £ s. d. total, £ s. d. the lord mayor's dress:--two wigs, £ s. d.; a velvet suit, £ s. d.; other clothes, £ s. d.; hats and hose, £ s. d.; a scarlet robe, £ s. d.; a violet ditto, £ s. d.; a gold chain, £ s. d.; steel buckles, £ s. d.; a steel sword, £ s. d.; hair-dressing, £ s. d.--£ s. d. on the page opposite to that containing this record, under the head of 'ditto returned,' we read 'per valuation, £ s. d.' thus, to dress a lord mayor costs £ s. d.; but her ladyship cannot be duly arrayed at a less cost than £ s. d. to dress the servants cost £ s. d." then comes a grand summing-up. "dr. the whole state of the account, £ , s. d." then follow the receipts per contra:--" at chamberlain's office, £ , s. d.; cocket office, £ s. d.; bridge house, £ ; city gauger, £ ; freedoms, £ ; fees on affidavits, £ s. d.; seals, £ s. d.; licences, £ s.; sheriff's fees, £ s. d.; corn fees, £ s.; venison warrants, £ s.; attorneys, mayor's court, £ s. d.; city remembrancer, £ s.; in lieu of baskets, £ s.; vote of common council, £ ; sale of horses and carriages, £ ; wine (overplus) removed from mansion house, £ s. d. total received, £ , s. d. cost of mayoralty, as such, and independent of all private expenses, £ , s. d." [illustration: the "maria wood." (_see page ._)] that clever but unscrupulous tuft-hunter and smart parvenu, theodore hook, who talked of bloomsbury as if it was semi-barbarous, and of citizens (whose wine he drank, and whose hospitality he so often shared) as if they could only eat venison and swallow turtle soup, has left a sketch of the short-lived dignity of a mayor, which exactly represents the absurd caricature of city life that then pleased his west-end readers, half of whom had derived their original wealth from the till. scropps, the new lord mayor, cannot sleep all night for his greatness; the wind down the chimney sounds like the shouts of the people; the cocks crowing in the morn at the back of the house he takes for trumpets sounding his approach; and the ordinary incidental noises in the family he fancies the pop-guns at stangate announcing his disembarcation at westminster. then come his droll mishaps: when he enters the state coach, and throws himself back upon his broad seat, with all imaginable dignity, in the midst of all his ease and elegance, he snaps off the cut-steel hilt of his sword, by accidentally bumping the whole weight of his body right--or rather, wrong--directly upon the top of it. "through fog and glory," says theodore hook, "scropps reached blackfriars bridge, took water, and in the barge tasted none of the collation, for all he heard, saw, and swallowed was 'lord mayor' and 'your lordship,' far sweeter than nectar. at the presentation at westminster, he saw two of the judges, whom he remembered on the circuit, when he trembled at the sight of them, believing them to be some extraordinary creatures, upon whom all the hair and fur grew naturally. "then the lady mayoress. there she was--sally scropps (her maiden name was snob). 'there was my own sally, with a plume of feathers that half filled the coach, and jenny and maria and young sally, all with their backs to _my_ horses, which were pawing with mud, and snorting and smoking like steam-engines, with nostrils like safety valves, and four of _my_ footmen behind the coach, like bees in a swarm.'" perhaps the most effective portion of the paper is the _reverse_ of the picture. my lord and lady and their family had just got settled in the mansion house, and enjoying their dignity, when the th of november came again--the consummation of scropps' downfall. again did they go in state to guildhall; again were they toasted and addressed; again were they handed in and led out, flirted with cabinet ministers, and danced with ambassadors; and at two o'clock in the morning drove home from the scene of gaiety to the old residence in budge row. "never in the world did pickled herrings or turpentine smell so powerfully as on that night when we re-entered the house.... the passage looked so narrow; the drawing-room looked so small; the staircase seemed so dark; our apartments appeared so low. in the morning we assembled at breakfast. a note lay upon the table, addressed 'mrs. scropps, budge row.' the girls, one after the other, took it up, read the superscription, and laid it down again. a visitor was announced--a neighbour and kind friend, a man of wealth and importance. what were his first words? they were the first i had heard from a stranger since my job. 'how are you, scropps? done up, eh?' "scropps! no obsequiousness, no deference, no respect. no 'my lord, i hope your lordship passed an agreeable night. and how is her ladyship, and her amiable daughters?' no, not a bit of it! 'how's mrs. s. and the _gals_?' this was quite natural, all as it had been. but how unlike what it _was_ only the day before! the very servants--who, when amidst the strapping, stall-fed, gold-laced lackeys of the mansion house, and transferred, with the chairs and tables, from one lord mayor to another, dared not speak, nor look, nor say their lives were their own--strutted about the house, and banged the doors, and spoke of their _missis_ as if she had been an old apple-woman. "so much for domestic miseries. i went out. i was shoved about in cheapside in the most remorseless manner. my right eye had a narrow escape of being poked out by the tray of a brawny butcher's boy, who, when i civilly remonstrated, turned round and said, 'vy, i say, who are _you_, i wonder? why are you so partiklar about your _hysight_?' i felt an involuntary shudder. 'to-day,' thought i, 'i am john ebenezer scropps. two days ago i was lord mayor!'" "our lord mayor," says cobbett, in his sensible way, "and his golden coach, and his gold-covered footmen and coachmen, and his golden chain, and his chaplain, and his great sword of state, please the people, and particularly the women and girls; and when they are pleased, the men and boys are pleased. and many a young fellow has been more industrious and attentive from his hope of one day riding in that golden coach." "on ordinary state occasions," says "aleph," in the _city press_, "the lord mayor wears a massive black silk robe, richly embroidered, and his collar and jewel; in the civic courts, a violet silk robe, furred and bordered with black velvet. the wear of the various robes was fixed by a regulation dated . the present authority for the costumes is a printed pamphlet (by order of the court of common council), dated . "the jewelled collar (date )," says mr. timbs, "is of pure gold, composed of a series of links, each formed of a letter s, a united york and lancaster (or henry vii.) rose, and a massive knot. the ends of the chain are joined by the portcullis, from the points of which, suspended by a ring of diamonds, hangs the jewel. the entire collar contains twenty-eight ss, fourteen roses, thirteen knots, and measures sixty-four inches. the jewel contains in the centre the city arms, cut in cameo of a delicate blue, on an olive ground. surrounding this is a garter of bright blue, edged with white and gold, bearing the city motto, 'domine, dirige nos,' in gold letters. the whole is encircled with a costly border of gold ss, alternating with rosettes of diamonds, set in silver. the jewel is suspended from the collar by a portcullis, but when worn without the collar, is hung by a broad blue ribbon. the investiture is by a massive gold chain, and, when the lord mayor is re-elected, by two chains." edward iii., by his charter (dated ), grants the mayors of the city of london "gold, or silver, or silvered" maces, to be carried before them. the present mace, of silver-gilt, is five feet three inches long, and bears on the lower part "w.r." it is surmounted with a royal crown and the imperial arms; and the handle and staff are richly chased. there are four swords belonging to the city of london. the "pearl" sword, presented by queen elizabeth when she opened the first royal exchange, in , and so named from its being richly set with pearls. this sword is carried before the lord mayor on all occasions of rejoicing and festivity. the "sword of state," borne before the lord mayor as an emblem of his authority. the "black" sword, used on fast days, in lent, and at the death of any of the royal family. and the fourth is that placed before the lord mayor's chair at the central criminal court. the corporate seal is circular. the second seal, made in the mayoralty of sir william walworth, , is much defaced. "the 'gondola,' known as the 'lord mayor's state barge,'" says "aleph," "was built in , at a cost of £ , . built of english oak, feet long by feet inches broad, she was at all times at liberty to pass through all the locks, and even go up the thames as far as oxford. she had eighteen oars and all other fittings complete, and was profusely gilt. but when the conservancy act took force, and the corporation had no longer need of her, she was sold at her moorings at messrs. searle's, surrey side of westminster bridge, on thursday, april th, , by messrs. pullen and son, of cripplegate. the first bid was £ , and she was ultimately knocked down for £ . where she is or how she has fared we know not. the other barge is that famous one known to all city personages and all civic pleasure parties. it was built during the mayoralty of sir matthew wood, in , and received its name of _maria wood_ from the eldest and pet daughter of that 'twice lord mayor.' it cost £ , , and was built by messrs. field and white, in consequence of the old barge _crosby_ (built during the mayoralty of brass crosby, ) being found past repairing. _maria wood_ measures feet long by feet wide, and draws only feet inches of water. the grand saloon, feet long, is capable of dining persons. in she cost £ , repairing. like her sister, this splendid civic barge was sold at the auction-mart, facing the bank of england, by messrs. pullen and son, on tuesday, may , . the sale commenced at £ , next £ , £ , and thence regular bids, till finally it got to £ , when mr. alderman humphrey bid £ , and got the prize. though no longer civic property, it is yet, i believe, in the hands of those who allow it to be made the scene of many a day of festivity." footnotes: [ ] a new act for the conservancy of the thames came into operation on september th, , the result of a compromise between the city and the government, after a long lawsuit between the crown and city authorities. [ ] these functionaries carve the barons of beef at the banquet on lord mayor's day. chapter xxxix. saxon london. a glance at saxon london--the three component parts of saxon london--the first saxon bridge over the thames--edward the confessor at westminster--city residences of the saxon kings--political position of london in early times--the first recorded great fire of london--the early commercial dignity of london--the kings of norway and denmark besiege london in vain--a great _gemot_ held in london--edmund ironside elected king by the londoners--canute besieges them, and is driven off--the seamen of london--its citizens as electors of kings. our materials for sketching saxon london are singularly scanty; yet some faint picture of it we may perhaps hope to convey. our readers must, therefore, divest their minds entirely of all remembrance of that great ocean of houses that has now spread like an inundation from the banks of the winding thames, surging over the wooded ridges that rise northward, and widening out from whitechapel eastward to kensington westward. they must rather recall to their minds some small german town, belted in with a sturdy wall, raised not for ornament, but defence, with corner turrets for archers, and pierced with loops whence the bowmen may drive their arrows at the straining workers of the catapult and mangonels (those roman war-engines we used against the cruel danes), and with stone-capped places of shelter along the watchmen's platforms, where the sentinels may shelter themselves during the cold and storm, when tired of peering over the battlements and looking for the crafty enemy essex-wards or surrey way. no toy battlements of modern villa or tea-garden are those over which the rough-bearded men, in hoods and leather coats, lean in the summer, watching the citizens disporting themselves in the moorfields, or in winter sledging over the ice-pools of finsbury. not for mere theatrical pageant do they carry those heavy axes and tough spears. those bossed targets are not for festival show; those buff jackets, covered with metal scales, have been tested before now by norsemen's ponderous swords and the hatchets of the fierce jutlanders. in such castle rooms as antiquaries now visit, the saxon earls and eldermen quaffed their ale, and drank "wassail" to king egbert or ethelwolf. in such dungeons as we now see with a shudder at the tower, saxon traitors and danish prisoners once peaked and pined. we must imagine saxon london as having three component parts--fortresses, convents, and huts. the girdle of wall, while it restricted space, would give a feeling of safety and snugness which in our great modern city--which is really a conglomeration, a sort of pudding-stone, of many towns and villages grown together into one shapeless mass--the citizen can never again experience. the streets would in some degree resemble those of moscow, where, behind fortress, palace, and church, you come upon rows of mere wooden sheds, scarcely better than the log huts of the peasants, or the sombre felt tents of the turcoman. there would be large vacant spaces, as in st. petersburg; and the suburbs would rapidly open beyond the walls into wild woodland and pasture, fen, moor, and common. a few dozen fishermen's boats from kent and norfolk would be moored by the tower, if, indeed, any saxon fort had ever replaced the somewhat hypothetical roman fortress of tradition; and lower down some hundred or so cumbrous dutch, french, and german vessels would represent our trade with the almost unknown continent whence we drew wine and furs and the few luxuries of those hardy and thrifty days. in the narrow streets, the fortress, convent, and hut would be exactly represented by the chieftain and his bearded retinue of spearmen, the priest with his train of acolytes, and the herd of half-savage churls who plodded along with rough carts laden with timber from the essex forests, or driving herds of swine from the glades of epping. the churls we picture as grim but hearty folk, stolid, pugnacious, yet honest and promise-keeping, over-inclined to strong ale, and not disinclined for a brawl; men who had fought with danes and wolves, and who were ready to fight them again. the shops must have been mere stalls, and much of the trade itinerant. there would be, no doubt, rudimentary market-places about cheapside (chepe is the saxon word for market); and the lines of some of our chief streets, no doubt, still follow the curves of the original saxon roads. the date of the first saxon bridge over the thames is extremely uncertain, as our chapter on london bridge will show; but it is almost as certain as history can be that, soon after the dane olaf's invasion of england ( ) in ethelred's reign, with piratical ships, when he plundered staines and sandwich, a rough wooden bridge was built, which crossed the thames from st. botolph's wharf to the surrey shore. we must imagine it a clumsy rickety structure, raised on piles with rough-hewn timber planks, and with drawbridges that lifted to allow saxon vessels to pass. there was certainly a bridge as early as , probably built to stop the passage of the danish pirate boats. indeed, snorro sturleson, the icelandic historian, tells us that when the danes invaded england in , in the reign of ethelred the unready (ominous name!), they entrenched themselves in southwark, and held the fortified bridge, which had pent-houses, bulwarks, and shelter-turrets. ethelred's ally, olaf, however, determined to drive the danes from the bridge, adopted a daring expedient to accomplish this object, and, fastening his ships to the piles of the bridge, from which the danes were raining down stones and beams, dragged it to pieces, upon which, on very fair provocation, ottar, a norse bard, broke forth into the following eulogy of king olaf, the patron saint of tooley street:-- "and thou hast overthrown their bridge, o thou storm of the sons of odin, skilful and foremost in the battle, defender of the earth, and restorer of the exiled ethelred! it was during the fight which the mighty king fought with the men of england, when king olaf, the son of odin, valiantly attacked the bridge at london. bravely did the swords of the volsces defend it; but through the trench which the sea-kings guarded thou camest, and the plain of southwark was crowded with thy tents." it may seem as strange to us, at this distance of time, to find london bridge ennobled in a norse epic, as to find a sir something de birmingham figuring among the bravest knights of froissart's record; but there the norse song stands on record, and therein we get a stormy picture of the thames in the saxon epoch. it is supposed that the saxon kings dwelt in a palace on the site of the baynard's castle of the middle ages, which stood at the river-side just west of st. paul's, although there is little proof of the fact. but we get on the sure ground of truth when we find edward the confessor, one of the most powerful of the saxon kings, dwelling in saintly splendour at westminster, beside the abbey dedicated by his predecessors to st. peter. the combination of the palace and the monastery was suitable to such a friend of the monks, and to one who saw strange visions, and claimed to be the favoured of heaven. but beyond and on all sides of the saxon palace everywhere would be fields--st. james's park (fields), hyde park (fields), regent's park (fields), and long woods stretching northward from the present st. john's wood to the uplands of epping. as to the city residences of the saxon kings, we have little on record; but there is indeed a tradition that in wood street, cheapside, king athelstane once resided; and that one of the doors of his house opened into addle street, aldermanbury (_addle_, from the german word _edel_, noble). but stow does not mention the tradition, which rests, we fear, on slender evidence. whether the bread street, milk street, and cornhill markets date from the saxon times is uncertain. it is not unlikely that they do, yet the earliest mention of them in london chronicles is found several centuries later. we must be therefore content to search for allusions to london's growth and wealth in saxon history, and there the allusions are frequent, clear, and interesting. in the earlier time london fluctuated, according to one of the best authorities on saxon history, between an independent mercantile commonwealth and a dependency of the mercian kings. the norsemen occasionally plundered and held it as a _point d'appui_ for their pirate galleys. its real epoch of greatness, however ancient its advantage as a port, commences with its re-conquest by alfred the great in . henceforward, says that most reliable writer on this period, mr. freeman, we find it one of the firmest strongholds of english freedom, and one of the most efficient bulwarks of the realm. there the english character developed the highest civilisation of the country, and there the rich and independent citizens laid the foundations of future liberty. in the danes are said to have gone up the lea, and made a strong work twenty miles above lundenburgh. this description, says earle, would be particularly appropriate, if lundenburgh occupied the site of the tower. also one then sees the reason why they should go up the lea--viz., because their old passage up the thames was at that time intercepted. "london," says earle, in his valuable saxon chronicles, "was a flourishing and opulent city, the chief emporium of commerce in the island, and the residence of foreign merchants. properly it was more an angle city, the chief city of the anglian nation of mercia; but the danes had settled there in great numbers, and had numerous captives that they had taken in the late wars. thus the danish population had a preponderance over the anglian free population, and the latter were glad to see alfred come and restore the balance in their favour. it was of the greatest importance to alfred to secure this city, not only as the capital of mercia (_caput regni merciorum_, malmesbury), but as the means of doing what mercia had not done--viz., of making it a barrier to the passage of pirate ships inland. accordingly, in the year , alfred _planted_ the _garrison_ of london (_i.e._, not as a town is garrisoned in our day, with men dressed in uniform and lodged in barracks, but) with a military colony of men to whom land was given for their maintenance, and who would live in and about a fortified position under a commanding officer. it appears to me not impossible that this may have been the first military occupation of tower hill, but this is a question for the local antiquary." in (ethelred ii.), london, still a mere cluster of wooden and wattled houses, was almost entirely destroyed by a fire. the new city was, no doubt, rebuilt in a more luxurious manner. "london in ," says mr. freeman, in a very admirable passage, "fills much the same place in england that paris filled in northern gaul a century earlier. the two cities, in their several lands, were the two great fortresses, placed on the two great rivers of the country, the special objects of attack on the part of the invaders, and the special defence of the country against them. each was, as it were, marked out by great public services to become the capital of the whole kingdom. but paris became a national capital only because its local count gradually grew into a national king. london, amidst all changes, within and without, has always preserved more or less of her ancient character as a free city. paris was merely a military bulwark, the dwelling-place of a ducal or a royal sovereign. london, no less important as a military post, had also a greatness which rested on a surer foundation. london, like a few other of our great cities, is one of the ties which connect our teutonic england with the celtic and roman britain of earlier times. her british name still remains unchanged by the teutonic conquerors. before our first introduction to london as an english city, she had cast away her roman and imperial title; she was no longer augusta; she had again assumed her ancient name, and through all changes she had adhered to her ancient character. the commercial fame of london dates from the early days of roman dominion. the english conquest may have caused a temporary interruption, but it was only temporary. as early as the days of Æthelberht the commerce of london was again renowned. Ælfred had rescued the city from the dane; he had built a citadel for her defence, the germ of that tower which was to be first the dwelling-place of kings, and then the scene of the martyrdom of their victims. among the laws of Æthelstan, none are more remarkable than those which deal with the internal affairs of london, and with the regulation of her earliest commercial corporations. her institutes speak of a commerce spread over all the lands which bordered on the western ocean. flemings and frenchmen, men of ponthieu, of brabant, and of lüttich, filled her markets with their wares, and enriched the civic coffers with their toils. thither, too, came the men of rouen, whose descendants were, at no distant day, to form a considerable element among her own citizens; and, worthy and favoured above all, came the seafaring men of the old saxon brother-land, the pioneers of the mighty hansa of the north, which was in days to come to knit together london and novgorod in one bond of commerce, and to dictate laws and distribute crowns among the nations by whom london was now threatened. the demand for toll and tribute fell lightly on those whom the english legislation distinguished as the _men of the emperor_." [illustration: broad street and cornhill wards. (_from a map of ._)] in , olaf king of norway, and sweyn king of denmark, summoning their robber chieftains from their fir-woods, fiords, and mountains, sailed up the thames in ninety-four war vessels, eager to plunder the wealthy london of the saxons. the brave burghers, trained to handle spear and sword, beat back, however, the hungry foemen from their walls--the rampart that tough roman hands had reared, and the strong tower which alfred had seen arise on the eastern bank of the river. but it was not only to such worldly bulwarks that the defenders of london trusted. on that day, says the chronicler, the mother of god, "of her mild-heartedness," rescued the christian city from its foes. an assault on the wall, coupled with an attempt to burn the town, was defeated, with great slaughter of the besiegers; and the two kings sailed away the same day in wrath and sorrow. during the year a great "gemot" was held at london. whether any measures were taken to resist the danes does not appear; but the priests were busy, and wulfsige, bishop of the dorsætas, took measures to substitute monks for canons in his cathedral church at sherborne; and the king restored to the church of rochester the lands of which he had robbed it in his youth. in the danes made several vain attempts on london. [illustration: lord mayor's water procession.] in sweyn, the dane, marched upon the much-tormented city of ships; but the hardy citizens were again ready with bow and spear. whether the bridge still existed then or not is uncertain; as many of the danes are said to have perished in vainly seeking for the fords. the assaults were as unsuccessful as those of sweyn and olaf, nineteen years before, for king ethelred's right hand was thorkill, a trusty dane. "for the fourth time in this reign," says mr. freeman, "the invaders were beaten back from the great merchant city. years after london yielded to sweyn; then again, in ethelred's last days, it resisted bravely its enemies; till at last ethelred, weary of dane and saxon, died, and was buried in st. paul's. the two great factions of danes and saxons had now to choose a king." canute the dane was chosen as king at southampton; but the londoners were so rich, free, and powerful that they held a rival _gemot_, and with one voice elected the saxon atheling edmund ironside, who was crowned by archbishop lyfing within the city, and very probably at st. paul's. canute, enraged at the londoners, at once sailed for london with his army, and, halting at greenwich, planned the immediate siege of the rebellious city. the great obstacle to his advance was the fortified bridge that had so often hindered the danes. canute, with prompt energy, instantly had a great canal dug on the southern bank, so that his ships might turn the flank of the bridge; and, having overcome this great difficulty, he dug another trench round the northern and western sides of the city. london was now circumvallated, and cut off from all supply of corn and cattle; but the citizen's hearts were staunch, and, baffling every attempt of canute to sap or escalade, the dane soon raised the siege. in the meantime, edmund ironside was not forgetful of the city that had chosen him as king. after three battles, he compelled the danes to raise their second siege. in a fourth battle, which took place at brentford, the danes were again defeated, though not without considerable losses on the side of the victors, many of the saxons being drowned in trying to ford the river after their flying enemies. edmund then returned to wessex to gather fresh troops, and in his absence canute for the third time laid siege to london. again the city held out against every attack, and "almighty god," as the pious chroniclers say, "saved the city." after the division of england between edmund and canute had been accomplished, the london citizens made peace with the danes, and the latter were allowed to winter as friends in the unconquered city; but soon after the partition edmund ironside died in london, and thus canute became the sole king of england. on the succession of harold i. (canute's natural son), says mr. freeman, we find a new element, the "lithsmen," the seamen of london. "the great city still retained her voice in the election of kings; but that voice would almost seem to have been transferred to a new class among the population. we hear now not of the citizens, but of the seafaring men. every invasion, every foreign settlement of any kind within the kingdom too, in every age, added a new element to the population of london. as a norman colony settled in london later in the century, so a danish colony settled there now. some accounts tell us, doubtless with great exaggeration, that london had now almost become a danish city (william of malmesbury, ii. ); but it is, at all events, quite certain the danish element in the city was numerous and powerful, and that its voice strongly helped to swell the cry which was raised in favour of harold." it seems doubtful how far the london citizens in the saxon times could claim the right to elect kings. the latest and best historian of this period seems to think that the londoners had no special privileges in the _gemot_; but, of course, when the _gemot_ was held in london, the citizens, intelligent and united, had a powerful voice in the decision. hence it arose that the citizens both of london and winchester (which had been an old seat of the saxon kings) "seem," says mr. freeman, "to be mentioned as electors of kings as late as the accession of stephen. (see william of malmesbury, "hist. nov.," i. ii.) even as late as the year , edward earl of march was elected king by a tumultuous assembly of the citizens of london;" and again, at a later period, we find the citizens foremost in the revolution which placed richard iii. on the throne in . these are plainly vestiges of the right which the citizens had more regularly exercised in the elections of edmund ironside and of harold the son of cnut. the city of london, there can be no doubt, soon emancipated itself from the jurisdiction of earls like leofwin, who ruled over the home counties. it acquired, by its own secret power, an unwritten charter of its own, its influence being always important in the wars between kings and their rivals, or kings and their too-powerful nobles. "the king's writs for homage," says a great authority, "in the saxon times, were addressed to the bishop, the portreeve or portreeves, to the burgh thanes, and sometimes to the whole people." thus it may clearly be seen, even from the scanty materials we are able to collect, that london, as far back as the saxon times, was destined to achieve greatness, political and commercial. chapter xl. the bank of england. the jews and the lombards--the goldsmiths the first london bankers--william paterson, founder of the bank of england--difficult parturition of the bank bill--whig principles of the bank of england--the great company described by addison--a crisis at the bank--effects of a silver re-coinage--paterson quits the bank of england--the ministry resolves that it shall be enlarged--the credit of the bank shaken--the whigs to the rescue--effects of the sacheverell riots--the south sea company--the cost of a new charter--forged bank notes--the foundation of the "three per cent. consols"--anecdotes relating to the bank of england and bank notes--description of the building--statue of william iii.--bank clearing house--dividend day at the bank. the english jews, that eminently commercial race, were, as we have shown in our chapter on old jewry, our first bankers and usurers. to them, in immediate succession, followed the enterprising lombards, a term including the merchants and goldsmiths of genoa, florence, and venice. utterly blind to all sense of true liberty and justice, the strong-handed king seems to have resolved to squeeze and crush them, as he had squeezed and crushed their unfortunate predecessors. they were rich and they were strangers--that was enough for a king who wanted money badly. at one fell swoop edward seized the lombards' property and estates. their debtors naturally approved of the king's summary measure. but the lombards grew and flourished, like the trampled camomile, and in the fifteenth century advanced a loan to the state on the security of the customs. the steelyard merchants also advanced loans to our kings, and were always found to be available for national emergencies, and so were the merchants of the staple, the mercers' company, the merchant adventurers, and the traders of flanders. up to a late period in the reign of charles i. the london merchants seem to have deposited their surplus cash in the mint, the business of which was carried on in the tower. but when charles i., in an agony of impecuniosity, seized like a robber the £ , there deposited, calling it a loan, the london goldsmiths, who ever since had been always more or less bankers, now monopolised the whole banking business. some merchants, distrustful of the goldsmiths in these stormy times, entrusted their money to their clerks and apprentices, who too often cried, "boot, saddle and horse, and away!" and at once started with their spoil to join rupert and his pillaging cavaliers. about the citizens returned almost entirely to the goldsmiths, who now gave interest for money placed in their care, bought coins, and sold plate. the company was not particular. the parliament, out of plate and old coin, had coined gold, and seven millions of half-crowns. the goldsmiths culled out the heavier pieces, melted them down, and exported them. the merchants' clerks, to whom their masters' ready cash was still sometimes entrusted, actually had frequently the brazen impudence to lend money to the goldsmiths, at fourpence per cent. per diem; so that the merchants were often actually lent their own money, and had to pay for the use of it. the goldsmiths also began now to receive rent and allow interest for it. they gave receipts for the sums they received, and these receipts were to all intents and purposes marketable as bank-notes. grown rich by these means, the goldsmiths were often able to help cromwell with money in advance on the revenues, a patriotic act for which we may be sure they took good care not to suffer. when the great national disgrace occurred--the dutch sailed up the medway and burned some of our ships--there was a run upon the goldsmiths, but they stood firm, and met all demands. the infamous seizure by charles ii. of £ , , , deposited by the london goldsmiths in the exchequer, all but ruined these too confiding men, but clamour and pressure compelled the royal embezzler to at last pay six per cent. on the sum appropriated. in the last year of william's reign, interest was granted on the whole sum at three per cent., and the debt still remains undischarged. at last a bank of england, which had been talked about and wished for by commercial men ever since the year , was actually started, and came into operation. that great financial genius, william paterson, the founder of the bank of england, was born in , of a good family, at lochnaber, in dumfriesshire. he is supposed, in early life, to have preached among the persecuted covenanters. he lived a good deal in holland, and is believed to have been a wealthy merchant in new providence (the bahamas), and seems to have shared in sir william phipps' successful undertaking of raising a spanish galleon with £ , worth of sunken treasure. it is absurdly stated that he was at one time a buccaneer, and so gained a knowledge of darien and the ports of the spanish main. that he knew and obtained information from captains sharpe, dampier, wafer, and sir henry morgan (the taker of panama), is probable. he worked zealously for the restoration of , and he was the founder of the darien scheme. he advocated the union of scotland, and the establishment of a board of trade. the project of a bank of england seems to have been often discussed during the commonwealth, and was seriously proposed at the meeting of the first council of trade at mercers' hall after the restoration. paterson has himself described the first starting of the bank, in his "proceedings at the imaginary wednesday's club," . the first proposition of a bank of england was made in july, , when the government had contracted £ , , of debt in three years, and the ministers even stooped, hat in hand, to borrow £ , or £ , at a time of the common council of london, on the first payment of the land-tax, and all payable with the year, the common councillors going round and soliciting from house to house. the first project was badly received, as people expected an immediate peace, and disliked a scheme which had come from holland--"they had too many dutch things already." they also doubted the stability of william's government. the money, at this time, was terribly debased, and the national debt increasing yearly. the ministers preferred ready money by annuities for ninety-nine years, and by a lottery. at last they ventured to try the bank, on the express condition that if a moiety, £ , , , was not collected by august, , there should be no bank, and the whole £ , , should be struck in halves for the managers to dispose of at their pleasure. so great was the opposition, that the very night before, some city men wagered deeply that one-third of the £ , , would never be subscribed. nevertheless, the next day £ , , with a fourth paid in at once, was subscribed, and the remainder in a few days after. the whole subscription was completed in ten days, and paid into the exchequer in rather more than ten weeks. paterson expressly tells us that the bank act would have been quashed in the privy council but for queen mary, who, following the wish of her husband, expressed firmly in a letter from flanders, pressed the commission forward, after a six hours' sitting. the bank bill, timidly brought forward, purported only to impose a new duty on tonnage, for the benefit of such loyal persons as should advance money towards carrying on the war. the plan was for the government to borrow £ , , , at the modest interest of eight per cent. to encourage capitalists, the subscribers were to be incorporated by the name of the governor and company of the bank of england. both tories and whigs broke into a fury at the scheme. the goldsmiths and pawnbrokers, says macaulay, set up a howl of rage. the tories declared that banks were republican institutions; the whigs predicted ruin and despotism. the whole wealth of the nation would be in the hands of the "tonnage bank," and the bank would be in the hands of the sovereign. it was worse than the star chamber, worse than oliver's , soldiers. the power of the purse would be transferred from the house of commons to the governor and directors of the new company. bending to this last objection, a clause was inserted, inhibiting the bank from advancing money to the house without authority from parliament. every infraction of this rule was to be punished by a forfeiture of three times the sum advanced, without the king having power to remit the penalty. charles montague, an able man, afterwards first lord of the treasury, carried the bill through the house; and michael godfrey (the brother of the celebrated sir edmondbury godfrey, supposed to have been murdered by the papists), an upright merchant and a zealous whig, propitiated the city. in the lords (always the more prejudiced and conservative body than the commons) the bill met with great opposition. some noblemen imagined that the bank was intended to exalt the moneyed interest and debase the landed interest; and others imagined the bill was intended to enrich usurers, who would prefer banking their money to lending it on mortgage. "something was said," says macaulay, "about the danger of setting up a gigantic corporation, which might soon give laws to the king and the three estates of the realm." eventually the lords, afraid to leave the king without money, passed the bill. during several generations the bank of england was emphatically a whig body. the stuarts would at once have repudiated the debt, and the bank of england, knowing that their return implied ruin, remained loyal to william, anne, and george. "it is hardly too much to say," writes macaulay, "that during many years the weight of the bank, which was constantly in the scale of the whigs, almost counterbalanced the weight of the church, which was as constantly in the scale of the tories." "seventeen years after the passing of the tonnage bill," says the same eminent writer, to show the reliance of the whigs on the bank of england, "addison, in one of his most ingenious and graceful little allegories, described the situation of the great company through which the immense wealth of london was constantly circulating. he saw public credit on her throne in grocers' hall, the great charter over her head, the act of settlement full in her view. her touch turned everything to gold. behind her seat bags filled with coin were piled up to the ceiling. on her right and on her left the floor was hidden by pyramids of guineas. on a sudden the door flies open, the pretender rushes in, a sponge in one hand, in the other a sword, which he shakes at the act of settlement. the beautiful queen sinks down fainting; the spell by which she has turned all things around her into treasure is broken; the money-bags shrink like pricked bladders; the piles of gold pieces are turned into bundles of rags, or fagots of wooden tallies." in (very soon after its birth) the bank experienced a crisis. there was a want of money in england. the clipped silver had been called in, and the new money was not ready. even rich people were living on credit, and issued promissory notes. the stock of the bank of england had gone rapidly down from to . the goldsmiths, who detested the corporation that had broken in on their system of private banking, now tried to destroy the new company. they plotted, and on the same day they crowded to grocers' hall, where the bank was located from to , and insisted on immediate payment--one goldsmith alone demanding £ , . the directors paid all their honest creditors, but refused to cash the goldsmiths' notes, and left them their remedy in westminster hall. the goldsmiths triumphed in scurrilous pasquinades entitled, "the last will and testament," "the epitaph," "the inquest on the bank of england." the directors, finding it impossible to procure silver enough to pay every claim, had recourse to an expedient. they made a call of per cent. on the proprietors, and thus raised a sum enabling them to pay every applicant per cent. in milled money on what was due to him, and they returned him his note, after making a minute upon it that part had been paid. a few notes thus marked, says macaulay, are still preserved among the archives of the bank, as memorials of that terrible year. the alternations were frightful. the discount, at one time per cent., was presently . a £ note, taken for more than £ in the morning, was before night worth less than £ . paterson attributes this danger of the bank to bad and partial payments, the giving and allowing exorbitant interest, high premiums and discounts, contracting dear and bad bargains; the general debasing and corrupting of coin, and such like, by which means things were brought to such a pass that even per cent. interest on the land-tax, although payable within the year, would not answer. guineas, he says, on a sudden rose to s. per piece, or more; all currency of other money was stopped, hardly any had wherewith to pay; public securities sank to about a moiety of their original values, and buyers were hard to be found even at those prices. no man knew what he was worth; the course of trade and correspondence almost universally stopped; the poorer sort of people were plunged into irrepressible distress, and as it were left perishing, whilst even the richer had hardly wherewith to go to market for obtaining the common conveniences of life. the king, in flanders, was in great want of money. the land bank could not do much. the bank, at last, generously offered to advance £ , in gold and silver to meet the king's necessities. sir isaac newton, the new master of the mint, hastened on the re-coinage. several of the ministers, immediately after the bank meeting (over which sir john houblon presided), purchased stock, as a proof of their gratitude to the body which had rendered so great a service to the state. the diminution of the old hammered money continued to increase, and public credit began to be put to a stand. the opposers of paterson wished to alter the denomination of the money, so that d. of silver should pass for s., but at last agreed to let sterling silver pass at s. d. an ounce, being the equivalent of the milled money. the loss of the re-coinage to the nation was about £ , , . paterson, who was one of the first directors of the bank of england, upon a qualification of £ , stock, disagreed with his colleagues on the question of the bank's legitimate operations, and sold out in . in , paterson says, after the peace of ryswick, he had an audience of king william, and drew his attention to the importance of three great measures--the union with scotland, the seizing the principal spanish ports in the west indies, and the holding a commission of inquiry into the conduct of those who had mismanaged the king's affairs during his absence in flanders. paterson died in , on the eve of the fatal south sea bubble. when the notes of the bank were at per cent. discount, the government (says francis) empowered the corporation to add £ , , s. to their original stock, and public faith was restored by four-fifths of the subscriptions being received in tallies and orders, and one-fifth in bank-notes at their full value, although both were at a heavy discount in the market. [illustration: the old bank, looking from the mansion house. (_from a print of ._)] the past services of the bank were not forgotten. the ministry resolved that it should be enlarged by new subscriptions; that provision should be made for paying the principal of the tallies subscribed in the bank; that per cent. should be allowed on all such tallies, to meet which a duty on salt was imposed; that the charter should be prolonged to august, ; that before the beginning of the new subscriptions the old capital should be made up to each member per cent.; and what might exceed that value should be divided among the new members; that the bank might circulate additional notes to the amount subscribed, provided they were payable on demand, and in default they were to be paid by the exchequer out of the first money due to the bank; that no other bank should be allowed by act of parliament during the continuance of the bank of england; that it should be exempt from all tax or imposition; and that no contract made for any bank stock to be bought or sold should be valid unless registered in the bank books, and transferred within fourteen days. it was also enacted that not above two-thirds of the directors should be re-elected in the succeeding year. these vigorous measures were thoroughly successful. the charter was at the same time extended to , and not even then to be withdrawn, unless government paid the full debt. forgery of the company's seal, notes, or bills was made felony without benefit of clergy. sir gilbert heathcote, one of the bank directors, gained £ , by this scheme. the bank is said to have offered the king at this time the loan of a million without interest for twenty-one years, if the government would extend the charter for that time. bank stock, given to the proprietors in exchange for tallies at per cent. discount, rose to . the bank had lowered the interest of money. as early as it had proposed to have branch banks in every city and market town of england. [illustration: old patch. (_see page ._)] in - , the conquests of louis xiv. alarmed england, and shook the credit of the bank. in the latter year the bank directors were once more obliged to issue sealed bills bearing interest for a large sum, in order to keep up their credit. in the fears of an invasion threatened by the pretender brought down stocks or per cent. the goldsmiths then gathered up bank bills, and tried to press the directors. hoare and child both joined in the attack, and the latter pretended to refuse the bills of the bank. the loyal whigs, however, instead of withdrawing their deposits, helped it with all their available cash. the dukes of marlborough, newcastle, and somerset, with others of the nobility, hurried to the bank with their coaches brimming with heavy bags of long hoarded guineas. a private individual, who had but £ , carried it to the bank; and on the story being told to the queen, she sent him £ , with an obligation on the treasury to repay the whole £ . lord godolphin, seeing the crisis, astutely persuaded queen anne to allow the bank for six months an interest of per cent. on their sealed bills. this, and a call of per cent. on the proprietors, saved the credit of the bank. in the charter was extended to . this concession was again vehemently opposed by the enemies of the bank. nathaniel tench, who wrote a reply for the directors, proved that the bank had never bought land, or monopolised any other commodity, and had, on the contrary, increased and encouraged trade. he asserted that they had never influenced an elector, and had been the chief cause of lowering the interest of money, even in war time. the government wishing to circulate exchequer bills, the bank raised their capital by new subscriptions to £ , , . the new subscriptions were raised in a few hours, and nearly one million more could have been obtained on the same day. during the absurd tory riots of the bank was in considerable danger. a vain, mischievous high church clergyman named sacheverell had been foolishly prosecuted for attacking the whig government, and calling the lord treasurer godolphin "volpone" (a character in a celebrated play written by ben jonson). a guard of butchers escorted the firebrand to his trial at westminster hall, at which queen anne was present. riots then broke out, and the high church mob sacked several dissenting chapels, burning the pews and pulpits in lincoln's inn fields, holborn, and elsewhere, and even threatened to use a dissenting preacher as a holocaust. the rioters at last threatened the bank. the queen at once sent her guards, horse and foot, to the city, and left herself unprotected. "am i to preach or fight?" was the first question of captain horsey, who led the cavalry. but the question needed no answer, for the rioters at once dispersed. in the bank charter was renewed until . the great catastrophe of the south sea bubble in , which we shall sketch fully in another chapter, did not injure the bank. the directors generously tried to save the fallen company, but (as might have been expected) utterly failed. with prudence, perhaps, gained from this national cataclysm, the bank, in , commenced keeping a reserve--the "rest"--that rock on which unshakable credit has ever since been proudly built. in no notes were issued by the bank for less than £ , and as part of the note only was printed the clerk's pen supplied the remainder. in , when the charter was renewed till , the loan of £ , , , without interest, was required by the government for the favour. by the act of renewal forging bank-notes, &c., was declared punishable with death. the bank was at this time a small and modest building, surrounded by houses, and almost invisible to passers by. there was a church called christopher le stocks, afterwards pulled down for fear it should ever be occupied by rioters, and three taverns, too, on the south side, in bartholomew lane, just where the chief entrance now is, and about fifteen or twenty private buildings. a few years later visitors used to be shown in the bullion office the original bank chest, no larger than a seamen's, and the original shelves and cases for the books of business, to show the extraordinary rapidity with which the institution had struck root and borne fruit. in , the capital on which the bank stock proprietors divided amounted to £ , , . it had been more than octupled in little more than half a century. the year is remarkable as that in which the foundation of the present "three per cent. consols" was laid. "the stock," says francis, "was thus termed from the balance of some annuities granted by george i. being consolidated into one fund with a three per cent. stock formed in ." in bank-notes of a smaller value than £ were first circulated. in the bank charter was renewed on a gift of £ , , and an advance of one million for exchequer bills for two years, at per cent. interest. it was at the same time made felony without benefit of clergy to forge powers of attorney for receiving dividends, transferring or selling stock. the government, which had won twelve millions before the seven years' war, annihilated the navy of france, and wrested india from the french sway, was glad to recruit its treasury by so profitable a bargain with the bank. in an act was passed making it punishable with death to copy the water-mark of the bank-note paper. by an act of notes of a less amount than twenty shillings were prohibited, and two years afterwards the amount was limited to £ . during the formidable riots of the bank was in considerable danger. in one night there rose the flames of six-and-thirty fires. the catholic chapels and the tallow-chandlers' shops were universally destroyed; newgate was sacked and burned. the mob, half thieves, at last decided to march upon the bank, but precautions had been taken there. the courts and roof of the building were defended by armed clerks and volunteers, and there were soldiers ready outside. the old pewter inkstands had been melted into bullets. the rioters made two rushes; the first was checked by a volley from the soldiers; at the second, which was less violent, wilkes rushed out, and with his own hand dragged in some of the ringleaders. leaving several killed and many wounded, the discomfited mob at last retired. in , the bank charter having nearly expired, lord north proposed a renewal for twenty-five years, the terms being a loan of two millions for three years, at per cent., to pay off the navy debt. in the notes and bills of the bank were exempted from the operation of the stamp act, on consideration of an annual payment of £ , . the government allowance of £ s. per million for managing the national debt was reduced at this time to £ . five years later our debt was calculated at millions, which, taken in £ notes, would weigh, it was curiously calculated, , lbs. it was about that the first attempts at forgery on a tremendous scale were discovered by the bank. a rogue of genius, generally known, from his favourite disguise, as "old patch," by a long series of forgeries secured a sum of more than £ , . he was the son of an old clothes' man in monmouth street; and had been a lottery-office keeper, stockbroker, and gambler. at one time he was a partner with foote, the celebrated comedian, in a brewery. he made his own ink, manufactured his own paper, and with a private press worked off his own notes. his mistress was his only confidante. his disguises were numerous and perfect. his servants or boys, hired from the street, always presented the forged notes. when seized and thrown into prison, old patch hung himself in his cell. during the wars with france pitt was always soliciting the help of the bank. in , great alarm was felt at the diminution of gold, and tom paine wrote a pamphlet to prove that the bank cellars could not hold more than a million of specie, while there were sixty millions of bank-notes in circulation. it was, however, proved that the specie amounted to about three millions, and the circulation to only nine or ten. early in , when the specie sank to £ , , , the bank suspended cash payments, and notes under £ were issued, and dollars prepared for circulation. the bank restriction act was soon after passed, discontinuing cash payments till the conclusion of the war. for the renewal of the charter in , the bank proposed to lend three millions for six years, without interest, a right being reserved to them of claiming repayment at any time before the expiration of six years, if consols should be at or above per cent. in , mr. addington said in the house of commons that since the forgeries of bank-notes had so alarmingly increased as to require seventy additional clerks merely to detect them, and that every year no less than thirty or forty persons had been executed for forgery. in , the celebrated chief cashier of the bank, abraham newland, the hero of dibdin's well-known song-- "sham abraham you may, but you mustn't sham abraham newland," retired from his duties, obtained a pension, and the same year died. his property amounted to £ , , besides £ , a year landed estate. he had made large sums by loans during the war, a certain amount of which were always reserved for the cashier's office. it is supposed the faithful old bank servant had lent large sums to the goldsmiths, the great stockbrokers, the contractors for many of these loans, as he left them £ each to buy mourning-rings. the bullion committee of was moved for by mr. horner to ascertain if the rise in the price of gold did not arise from the over-issue of notes. there was a growing feeling that bank-notes did not represent the specified amount of gold, and the committee recommended a speedy return to cash payments. in parliament mr. fuller, that butt of the house, proposed if the guinea was really worth s., to raise it at once to that price. guineas at this time were exported to france in large numbers by smugglers in boats made especially for the purpose. the bank, which had before issued dollars, now circulated silver tokens for s. d., s., and s. d. peel's currency bill of secured a gradual return of cash payments, and the old metallic standard was restored. it was peel's great principle that a national bank should always be prepared to pay specie for its notes on demand, a principle he afterwards worked out in the bank charter. the same year a new plan was devised to prevent bank-notes being forged. the committee's report says:--"a number of squares will appear in chequer-work upon the note, filled with hair lines in elliptic curves of various degrees of eccentricity, the squares to be alternately of red and black lines; the perfect mathematical coincidence of the extremity of the lines of different colours on the sides of the squares will be effected by machinery of singular fidelity. but even with the use of this machinery a person who has not the key to the proper disposition would make millions of experiments to no purpose. other obstacles to imitation will also be presented in the structure of the note; but this is the one principally relied upon. it is plain that any failure in the imitation will be made manifest to the observation of the most careless, and the most skilful merchants who have seen the operation declare that the note cannot be imitated. the remarkable machine works with three cylinders, and the impression is made by small convex cylindrical plates." in the real re-commencement of specie payments took place. in turner, a bank clerk, stole £ , by altering the transfer book. the rascal, however, was too clever for the bank, and escaped. in mr. pascoe grenfell put the profits of the bank at twenty-five millions, in twenty-five years, after seven per cent. was divided. by fauntleroy's (the banker) forgeries in , the bank lost £ , , and the interest alone, which was regularly paid, had amounted to £ , or £ , a year. fauntleroy's bank was in berners street. he had forged powers of attorney to enable him to sell out stock. an epicure and a voluptuary, he had lived in extraordinary luxury. in a private desk was found a list of his forgeries, ending with these words: "the bank first began to refuse our acceptances, thereby destroying the credit of our house. the bank shall smart for it." after fauntleroy was hung at newgate there were obscure rumours in the city that he had been saved by a silver tube being placed in his throat, and that he had escaped to paris. having given a summary of the history of the bank of england, we now propose to select a series of anecdotes, arranged by dates, which will convey a fuller and more detailed notion of the romance and the vicissitudes of banking life. the bank was first established (says francis) in mercers' hall, and afterwards in grocers' hall, since razed for the erection of a more stately structure. here, in one room, with almost primitive simplicity, were gathered all who performed the duties of the establishment. "i looked into the great hall where the bank is kept," says the graceful essayist of the day, "and was not a little pleased to see the directors, secretaries, and clerks, with all the other members of that wealthy corporation, ranged in their several stations according to the parts they hold in that just and regular economy." mr. michael godfrey, to whose exertions, with those of william paterson, may be traced the successful establishment of the bank, met with a somewhat singular fate, on the th of july, . at that time the transmission of specie was difficult and full of hazard, and mr. godfrey left his peaceful avocations to visit namur, then vigorously besieged by the english monarch. the deputy-governor, willing to flatter the king, anxious to forward his mission, or possibly imagining the vicinity of the sovereign to be the safest place he could choose, ventured into the trenches. "as you are no adventurer in the trade of war, mr. godfrey," said william, "i think you should not expose yourself to the hazard of it." "not being more exposed than your majesty," was the courtly reply, "should i be excusable if i showed more concern?" "yes," returned william; "i am in my duty, and therefore have a more reasonable claim to preservation." a cannon-ball at this moment answered the "reasonable claim to preservation" by killing mr. godfrey; and it requires no great stretch of imagination to fancy a saturnine smile passing over the countenance of the monarch, as he beheld the fate of the citizen who paid so heavy a penalty for playing the courtier in the trenches of namur. on the st of august, , a scene was presented which strongly marks the infatuation and ignorance of lottery adventurers. the tickets for the state lottery were delivered out to the subscribers at the bank of england; when the crowd becoming so great as to obstruct the clerks, they told them, "we deliver blanks to-day, but to-morrow we shall deliver the prizes;" upon which many, who were by no means for blanks, retired, and by this bold stratagem the clerks obtained room to proceed in their business. in this lottery, we read, "her majesty presented his royal highness the duke with ten tickets." in the roads were so infested by highwaymen, and mails were so frequently stopped by the gentlemen in the black masks, that the post-master made a representation to the bank upon the subject, and the directors in consequence advertised an issue of bills payable at "seven days' sight," that, in case of the mail being robbed, the proprietor of stolen bills might have time to give notice. the effect of the arrival, in , of charles edward at derby, upon the national bank, was alarming indeed. its interests were involved in those of the state, and the creditors flocked in crowds to obtain payment for their notes. the directors, unprepared for such a casualty, had recourse to a justifiable stratagem; and it was only by this that they escaped bankruptcy. payment was not refused, but the corporation retained its specie, by employing agents to enter with notes, who, to gain time, were paid in sixpences; and as those who came first were entitled to priority of payment, the agents went out at one door with the specie they had received, and brought it back by another, so that the _bonâ-fide_ holders of notes could never get near enough to present them. "by this artifice," says our authority, somewhat quaintly, "the bank preserved its credit, and literally faced its creditors." an extraordinary affair happened about the year . one of the directors, a very rich man, had occasion for £ , , which he was to pay as the price of an estate he had just bought. to facilitate the matter, he carried the sum with him to the bank, and obtained for it a bank-note. on his return home he was suddenly called out upon particular business; he threw the note carelessly on the chimney, but when he came back a few minutes afterwards to lock it up, it was not to be found. no one had entered the room; he could not, therefore, suspect any person. at last, after much ineffectual search, he was persuaded that it had fallen from the chimney into the fire. the director went to acquaint his colleagues with the misfortune that had happened to him; and as he was known to be a perfectly honourable man, he was readily believed. it was only about twenty-four hours from the time that he had deposited the money; they thought, therefore, that it would be hard to refuse his request for a second bill. he received it upon giving an obligation to restore the first bill, if it should ever be found, or to pay the money himself, if it should be presented by any stranger. about thirty years afterwards (the director having been long dead, and his heirs in possession of his fortune) an unknown person presented the lost bill at the bank, and demanded payment. it was in vain that they mentioned to this person the transaction by which that bill was annulled; he would not listen to it. he maintained that it came to him from abroad, and insisted upon immediate payment. the note was payable to bearer, and the £ , were paid him. the heirs of the director would not listen to any demands of restitution, and the bank was obliged to sustain the loss. it was discovered afterwards that an architect having purchased the director's house, and taken it down, in order to build another upon the same spot, had found the note in a crevice of the chimney, and made his discovery an engine for robbing the bank. in the early part of last century, the practice of bankers was to deliver in exchange for money deposited a receipt, which might be circulated like a modern cheque. bank-notes were then at a discount; and the bank of england, jealous of childs' reputation, secretly collected the receipts of their rivals, determined, when they had procured a very large number, suddenly to demand money for them, hoping that childs' would not be able to meet their liabilities. fortunately for the latter, they got scent of this plot; and in great alarm applied to the celebrated duchess of marlborough, who gave them a single cheque of £ , on their opponents. thus armed, childs' waited the arrival of the enemy. it was arranged that this business should be transacted by one of the partners, and that a confidential clerk, on a given signal, should proceed with all speed to the bank to get the cheque cashed. at last a clerk from the bank of england appeared, with a full bag, and demanded money for a large number of receipts. the partner was called, who desired him to present them singly. the signal was given; the confidential clerk hurried on his mission; the partner was very deliberate in his movements, and long before he had taken an account of all the receipts, his emissary returned with £ , ; and the whole amount of £ , or £ , was paid by childs' in bank of england notes. in addition to the triumph of this manoeuvre, childs' must have made a large sum, from bank paper being at a considerable discount. the day on which a forged note was first presented at the bank of england forms a remarkable era in its history; and to richard william vaughan, a stafford linendraper, belongs the melancholy celebrity of having led the van in this new phase of crime, in the year . the records of his life do not show want, beggary, or starvation urging him, but a simple desire to seem greater than he was. by one of the artists employed--and there were several engaged on different parts of the notes--the discovery was made. the criminal had filled up to the number of twenty, and deposited them in the hands of a young lady, to whom he was attached, as a proof of his wealth. there is no calculating how much longer bank notes might have been free from imitation, had this man not shown with what ease they might be counterfeited. (francis.) the circulation of £ notes led to much forgery, and to a melancholy waste of human life. considering the advances made in the mechanical arts, small notes were rough, and even rude in their execution. easily imitated, they were also easily circulated, and from the executions for forgery augmented to an extent which bore no proportion to any other class of crime. during six years prior to their issue there was but one capital conviction; during the four following years eighty-five occurred. the great increase produced inquiry, which resulted in an act "for the better prevention of the forgery of the notes and bills of exchange of persons carrying on the business of banker." in the year a judgment was given by the lord chief justice in connection with some notes which were stolen from one of the mails. the robber, after stopping the coach and taking out all the money contained in the letters, went boldly to a mr. miller, at the hatfield post-office, who unhesitatingly exchanged one of them. here he ordered a post-chaise, with four horses, and at several stages passed off the remainder. they were, however, stopped at the bank, and an action was brought by the possessor to recover the money. the question was an important one, and it was decided by the law authorities, "that any person paying a valuable consideration for a bank note, payable to bearer, in a fair course of business, has an undoubted right to recover the money of the bank." the action was maintained upon the plea that the figure , denoting the date, had been converted by the robber to a . [illustration: the bank parlour, exterior view.] a new crime was discovered in . the notice of the clerks at the bank had been attracted by the habit of william guest, a teller, of picking new from old guineas without assigning any reason. an indefinite suspicion--increased by the knowledge that an ingot of gold had been seen in guest's possession--arose, and although he asserted that it came from holland, it was very unlike the regular bars of gold, and had a large quantity of copper at the back. attention being thus drawn to the behaviour of guest, he was observed to hand one richard still some guineas, which he took from a private drawer, and placed with the others on the table. still was immediately followed, and on the examination of his money three of the guineas in his possession were deficient in weight. an inquiry was immediately instituted. forty of the guineas in the charge of guest looked fresher than the others upon the edges, and weighed much less than the legitimate amount. on searching his house some gold filings were found, with instruments calculated to produce artificial edges. proofs soon multiplied, and the prisoner was found guilty. the instrument with which he had effected his fraud, of which one of the witnesses asserted it was the greatest improvement he had ever seen, is said to be yet in the mint. in an action interesting to the public was brought against the bank. it appeared from the evidence that some stock stood in the joint names of a man and his wife; and by the rules of the corporation the signatures of both were required before it could be transferred. to this the husband objected, and claimed the right of selling without his wife's signature or consent. the court of king's bench decided in favour of the plaintiff, with full costs of suit, lord mansfield believing that "it was highly _cruel and oppressive_ to withhold from the husband his right of transferring." on the th of june, , neale and co., bankers, in threadneedle street, stopped payment; other failures resulted in consequence, and throughout the city there was a general consternation. the timely interposition of the bank, and the generous assistance of the merchants, prevented many of the expected stoppages, and trade appeared restored to its former security. it was, however, only an appearance; for on monday, the nd of the same month, may be read, in a contemporary authority, a description of the prevailing agitation, which forcibly reminds us of a few years ago. "it is beyond the power of words to describe the general consternation of the metropolis at this instant. no event for fifty years has been remembered to give so fatal a blow to trade and public credit. a universal bankruptcy was expected; the stoppage of almost every banker's house in london was looked for; the whole city was in an uproar; many of the first families were in tears. this melancholy scene began with a rumour that one of the greatest bankers in london had stopped, which afterwards proved true. a report at the same time was propagated that an immediate stoppage of the greatest bank of all must take place. happily this proved groundless; the principal merchants assembled, and means were concocted to revive trade and preserve the national credit." [illustration: dividend day at the bank.] the desire of the directors to discover the makers of forged notes produced a considerable amount of anxiety to one whose name is indelibly associated with british art. george morland--a name rarely mentioned but with feelings of pity and regret--had, in his eagerness to avoid incarceration for debt, retired to an obscure hiding-place in the suburbs of london. "on one occasion," says allan cunningham, "he hid himself in hackney, where his anxious looks and secluded manner of life induced some of his charitable neighbours to believe him a maker of forged notes. the directors of the bank dispatched two of their most dexterous emissaries to inquire, reconnoitre, search and seize. the men arrived, and began to draw lines of circumvallation round the painter's retreat. he was not, however, to be surprised: mistaking those agents of evil mien for bailiffs, he escaped from behind as they approached in front, fled into hoxton, and never halted till he had hid himself in london. nothing was found to justify suspicion; and when mrs. morland, who was his companion in this retreat, told them who her husband was, and showed them some unfinished pictures, they made such a report at the bank, that the directors presented him with a couple of bank notes of £ each, by way of compensation for the alarm they had given him." the proclamation of peace in , says francis, was indirectly an expense to the bank, although hailed with enthusiasm by the populace. the war with america had assumed an aspect which, with all thinking men, crushed every hope of conquest. it was therefore amid a general shout of joy that on monday, the st of october, , the ceremonial took place. a vast multitude attended, and the people were delighted with the suspension of war. the concourse was so great that temple bar was opened with difficulty, and the lord mayor's coachman was kept one hour before he was able to turn his vehicle. the bank only had reason to regret, or at least not to sympathise so freely with the public joy. during the hurry attendant on the proclamation at the royal exchange, when it may be supposed the sound of the music and the noise of the trumpet occupied the attention of the clerk more than was beneficial for the interests of his employers, fourteen notes of £ each were presented at the office and cash paid for them. the next day they were found to be forged. in mathison's celebrated forgeries were committed. john mathison was a man of great mechanical capacity, who, becoming acquainted with an engraver, unhappily acquired that art which ultimately proved his ruin. a yet more dangerous qualification was his of imitating signatures with remarkable accuracy. tempted by the hope of sudden wealth, his first forgeries were the notes of the darlington bank. this fraud was soon discovered, and a reward being offered, with a description of his person, he escaped to scotland. there, scorning to let his talents lie idle, he counterfeited the notes of the royal bank of edinburgh, amused himself by negotiating them during a pleasure excursion through the country, and reached london, supported by his imitative talent. here a fine sphere opened for his genius, which was so active, that in twelve days he had bought the copper, engraved it, fabricated notes, forged the water-mark, printed and negotiated several. when he had a sufficient number, he travelled from one end of the kingdom to the other, disposing of them. having been in the habit of procuring notes from the bank (the more accurately to copy them), he chanced to be there when a clerk from the excise office paid in , guineas, one of which was scrupled. mathison, from a distance, said it was a good one; "then," said the bank clerk, on the trial, "i recollected him." the frequent visits of mathison, who was very incautious, together with other circumstances, created some suspicion that he might be connected with those notes, which, since his first appearance, had been presented at the bank. on another occasion, when mathison was there, a forged note of his own was presented, and the teller, half in jest and half in earnest, charged maxwell, the name by which he was known, with some knowledge of the forgeries. further suspicion was excited, and directions were given to detain him at some future period. the following day the teller was informed that "his friend maxwell," as he was styled ironically, was in cornhill. the clerk instantly went, and under pretence of having paid mathison a guinea too much on a previous occasion, and of losing his situation if the mistake were not rectified in the books, induced him to return with him to the hall; from which place he was taken before the directors, and afterwards to sir john fielding. to all the inquiries he replied, "he had a reason for declining to answer. he was a citizen of the world, and knew not how he had come into it, or how he should go out of it." being detained during a consultation with the bank solicitor, he suddenly lifted up the sash and jumped out of the window. on being taken and asked his motive, if innocent, he said, "it was his humour." in the progress of the inquiry, the darlington paper, containing his description, was read to him, when he turned pale, burst into tears, and saying he was a dead man, added, "now i will confess all." he was, indeed, found guilty only on his own acknowledgment, which stated he could accomplish the whole of a note in one day. it was asserted at the time, that, had it not been for his confession, he could not have been convicted. he offered to explain the secret of his discovery of the method of imitating the water-mark, on the condition that the corporation would spare his life; but his proposal was rejected, and he subsequently paid the full penalty of his crime. the conviction that some check was necessary grew more and more peremptory as the evils of the system were exposed. in fourteen years from the first issue of small notes, the number of convictions had been centupled. in the first ten years of the present century, £ , were refused payment, on the plea of forgery. in the two years preceding the appointment of the commission directed by government to inquire into the facts connected with forging notes, nearly £ , were presented, being an increase of per cent. in , the entire cost of prosecutions for forgeries was £ , , and in the last three months of it was near £ , . sir samuel romilly said that "pardons were sometimes found necessary; but few were granted except under circumstances of peculiar qualification and mitigation. he believed the sense and feeling of the people of england were against the punishment of death for forgery. it was clear the severity of the punishment had not prevented the crimes." the first instance of fraud, to a great amount, was perpetrated by one of the confidential servants of the corporation. in the year , mr. bish, a member of the stock exchange, was applied to by mr. robert astlett, cashier of the bank of england, to dispose of some exchequer bills. when they were delivered into mr. bish's hands, he was greatly astonished to find not only that these bills had been previously in his possession, but that they had been also delivered to the bank. surprised at this, he immediately opened a communication with the directors, which led to the discovery of the fraud and the apprehension of robert astlett. by the evidence produced on the trial, it appeared that the prisoner had been placed in charge of all the exchequer bills brought into the bank, and when a certain number were collected, it was his duty to arrange them in bundles, and deliver them to the directors in the parlour, where they were counted and a receipt given to the cashier. this practice had been strictly adhered to; but the prisoner, from his acquaintance with business, had induced the directors to believe that he had handed them bills to the amount of £ , , when they were only in possession of £ , . so completely had he deceived these gentlemen, that two of the body vouched by their signatures for the delivery of the larger amount. he was tried for the felonious embezzlement of three bills of exchange of £ , each. he escaped hanging, but remained a miserable prisoner in newgate for many years. in vincent alessi, a native of one of the italian states, went to birmingham, to choose some manufactures likely to return a sufficient profit in spain. amongst others he sought a brass-founder, who showed him that which he required, and then drew his attention to "another article," which he said he could sell cheaper than any other person in the trade. mr. alessi declined purchasing this, as it appeared to be a forged bank-note; upon which he was shown some dollars, as fitter for the spanish market. these also were declined, though it is not much to the credit of the italian that he did not at once denounce the dishonesty of the birmingham brass-founder. it would seem, however, from what followed, that mr. alessi was not quite unprepared, as, in the evening, he was called on by one john nicholls, and after some conversation, he agreed to take a certain quantity of notes, of different values, which were to be paid for at the rate of six shillings in the pound. alessi thought this a very profitable business, while it lasted, as he could always procure as many as he liked, by writing for so many dozen candlesticks, calling them nos. , , or , according to the amount of the note required. the vigilance of the english police, however, was too much even for the subtlety of an italian; he was taken by them, and allowed to turn king's evidence, it being thought very desirable to discover the manufactory whence the notes emanated. in december john nicholls received a letter from alessi, stating that he was going to america; that he wanted to see nicholls in london; that he required twenty dozen candlesticks, no. ; twenty-four dozen, no. ; and four dozen, no. . mr. nicholls, unsuspicious of his correspondent's captivity, and consequent frailty, came forthwith to town, to fulfil so important an order. here an interview was planned, within hearing of the police officers. nicholls came with the forged notes. alessi counted up the whole sum he was to pay, at six shillings in the pound, saying, "well, mr. nicholls, you will take all my money from me." "never mind, sir," was the reply; "it will all be returned in the way of business." alessi then remarked that it was cold, and put on his hat. this was the signal for the officers. to the dealer's surprise and indignation, he found himself entrapped with the counterfeit notes in his possession, to the precise amount in number and value that had been ordered in the letter. a curious scene took place in may, , at the bank. on the th of that month, a notice had been posted, stating that books would be opened on the st of may, and two following days, for receiving subscriptions to the amount of £ , , from persons desirous of funding exchequer bills. it was generally thought that the whole of the sum would be immediately subscribed, and great anxiety was shown to obtain an early admission to the office of the chief cashier. ten o'clock is the usual time for public business; but at two in the morning many persons were assembled outside the building, where they remained for several hours, their numbers gradually augmenting. the opening of the outer door was the signal for a general rush, and the crowd, for it now deserved that name, next established themselves in the passage leading to the chief cashier's office, where they had to wait another hour or two, to cool their collective impatience. when the time arrived, a further contest arose, and they strove lustily for an entrance. the struggle for preference was tremendous; and the door separating them from the chief cashier's room, and which is of a most substantial size, was forced off its hinges. by far the greater part of those who made this effort failed, the whole £ , , being subscribed by the first ten persons who gained admission. in a very extraordinary appeal was made to the french tribunals by a man named j. costel, who was a merchant of hamburg, while the free city was in the hands of the french. he accused the general commanding there of employing him to get £ , worth of english bank-notes changed, which proved to be forged, and he was, in consequence of this discovery, obliged to fly from hamburg. he also said that savary, duke of rovigo, and desnouettes, were the fabricators, and that they employed persons to pass them into england, one of whom was seized by the london police, and hanged. mr. doubleday asserts that some one had caused a large quantity of french assignats to be forged at birmingham, with the view of depreciating the credit of the french republic. merchants and bankers now began to declare that they would rather lose their entire fortunes than pour forth the life which it was not theirs to give. a general feeling pervaded the whole interest, that it would be better to peril a great wrong than to suffer an unavailing remorse. one petition against the penalty of death was presented, which bore three names only; but those were an honourable proof of the prevalent feeling. the name of nathan meyer rothschild was the first, "through whose hands," said mr. smith, on presenting the petition, "more bills pass than through those of any twenty firms in london." the second was that of overend, gurney, and co., through whom thirty millions passed the preceding year; and the third was that of mr. sanderson, ranking among the first in the same profession, and a member of the legislature. a principal clerk of one of our bankers having robbed his employer of bank of england notes to the amount of £ , , made his escape to holland. unable to present them himself, he sold them to a jew. the price which he received does not appear; but there is no doubt that, under the circumstances, a good bargain was made by the purchaser. in the meantime every plan was exhausted to give publicity to the loss. the numbers of the notes were advertised in the newspapers, with a request that they might be refused, and for about six months no information was received of the lost property. at the end of that period the jew appeared with the whole of his spoil, and demanded payment, which was at once refused on the plea that the bills had been stolen, and that payment had been stopped. the owner insisted upon gold, and the bank persisted in refusing. but the jew was an energetic man, and was aware of the credit of the corporation. he was known to be possessed of immense wealth, and he went deliberately to the exchange, where, to the assembled merchants of london, in the presence of her citizens, he related publicly that the bank had refused to honour their own bills for £ , ; that their credit was gone, their affairs in confusion; and that they had stopped payment. the exchange wore every appearance of alarm; the hebrew showed the notes to corroborate his assertion. he declared that they had been remitted to him from holland, and as his transactions were known to be extensive, there appeared every reason to credit his statement. he then avowed his intention of advertising this refusal of the bank, and the citizens thought there must be some truth in his bold announcement. information reached the directors, who grew anxious, and a messenger was sent to inform the holder that he might receive cash in exchange for his notes. in the light sovereigns were called in. the total amount of light coin received from the th of june to the th of july was £ , , , and - / d. was the loss on each, taking an average of , . the large sum of £ , , in £ notes, was paid into the bank this year. they had probably been the hoard of some eccentric person, who evinced his attachment to the obsolete paper at the expense of his interest. a few years afterwards a £ note came in which had been outstanding for about a century and a quarter, and the loss of interest on which amounted to some thousands. and now a few anecdotes about bank-notes. an eccentric gentleman in portland street, says mr. grant, in his "great metropolis," framed and exhibited for five years in one of his sitting-rooms a bank post bill for £ , . the fifth year he died, and down came the picture double quick, and was cashed by his heirs. some years ago, at a nobleman's house near the park, a dispute arose about a certain text, and a dean present denying there was any such text at all, a bible was called for. a dusty old bible was produced, which had never been removed from its shelf since the nobleman's mother had died some years before. when it was opened a mark was found in it, which, on examination, turned out to be a bank post bill for £ , . it might, it strikes us, have been placed there as a reproof to the son, who perhaps did not consult his bible as often as his mother could have wished. the author of "the american in england" describes, in , one of the servants of the bank putting into his hand bank post bills, which, before being cancelled by having the signatures torn off, had represented the sum of five millions sterling. the whole made a parcel that could with ease be put into the waistcoat pocket. the largest amount of a bank-note in current circulation in was £ , . it is said that two notes for £ , each, and two for £ , , were once engraved and issued. a butcher who had amassed an immense fortune in the war time, went one day with one of these £ , notes to a private bank, asking the loan of £ , , and wishing to deposit the big note as security in the banker's hands, saying that he had kept it for years. the £ , were at once handed over, but the banker hinted at the same time to the butcher the folly of hoarding such a sum and losing the interest. "werry true, sir," replied the butcher, "but i likes the look on't so wery well that i keeps t'other one of the same kind at home." as the bank of england pays an annual average sum of £ , to the stamp office for their notes, while other banks pay a certain sum on every note as stamped, the bank of england never re-issues its notes, but destroys them on return. a visitor to the bank was one day shown a heap of cinders, which was the ashes of £ , , of notes recently burned. the letters could here and there be seen. it looked like a piece of laminated larva, and was about three inches long and two inches broad, weighing probably from ten to twelve ounces. the losses of the bank are considerable. in no fewer than persons were convicted, at a great expense, of forging small notes. in the yearly losses of the bank from forgeries on the public funds were upwards of £ , . it is said that in the large room of the bank a quarter of a million sovereigns will sometimes change hands in the course of the day. the entire amount of money turned over on an average in the day has been estimated as low as £ , , , and as high as £ , , . at a rough guess, the number of persons who receive dividends on the first day of every half year exceeds , , and the sum paid away has been estimated at £ , . the number of clerks in the bank of england was computed, in , at ; the engravers and bank-note printers at thirty-eight. the salaries vary from £ per annum to £ , and the amount paid to the servants of the entire establishment, about , , upwards of £ , . some years ago the proprietors met four times a year. three directors sat daily in the bank parlour. on wednesday a court of directors sat to decide on london applications for discount, and on thursdays the whole court met to consider all notes exceeding £ , . the directors, twenty-four, exclusive of the governor and deputy-governor, decide by majority all matters of importance. [illustration: the church of st. benet fink.] the bank of england (says dodsley's excellent and well-written "guide to london," ) is a noble edifice situated at the east of st. christopher's church, near the west end of threadneedle street. the front next the street is about feet in length, and is of the ionic order, raised on a rustic basement, and is of a good style. through this you pass into the courtyard, in which is the hall. this is one of the corinthian order, and in the middle is a pediment. the top of the building is adorned with a balustrade and handsome vases, and in the face of the above pediment is engraved in relievo the company's seal, britannia sitting with her shield and spear, and at her feet a cornucopia pouring out fruit. the hall, which is in this last building, is feet in length and in breadth; it is wainscoted about feet high, has a fine fretwork ceiling, and is adorned with a statue of king william iii., which stands in a niche at the upper end, on the pedestal of which is the following inscription in latin--in english, thus:-- "for restoring efficiency to the laws, authority to the courts of justice, dignity to the parliament, to all his subjects their religion and liberties, and confirming them to posterity, by the succession of the illustrious house of hanover to the british throne: to the best of princes, william the third. founder of the bank, this corporation, from a sense of gratitude, has erected this statue, and dedicated it to his memory, in the year of our lord mdccxxxiv., and the first year of this building." further backward is another quadrangle, with an arcade on the east and west sides of it; and on the north side is the accountant's office, which is feet long and feet broad. over this, and the other sides of the quadrangle, are handsome apartments, with a fine staircase adorned with fretwork; and under are large vaults, that have strong walls and iron gates, for the preservation of the cash. the back entrance from bartholomew lane is by a grand gateway, which opens into a commodious and spacious courtyard for coaches or wagons, that frequently come loaded with gold and silver bullion; and in the room fronting the gate the transfer-office is kept. [illustration: court of the bank of england (_see page _).] the entablature rests on fluted corinthian columns, supporting statues, which indicate the four quarters of the globe. the intercolumniations are ornamented by allegories representing the thames and the ganges, executed by thomas banks, academician, the roses on the vaulting of the arch being copied from the temple of mars the avenger, at rome. on the death of sir john soane, in , mr. cockerell was chosen to succeed him in his important position. the style of this gentleman, in the office he designed for the payment of dividend warrants, now employed as the private drawing-office, is very different to the erections of his predecessor. the taste which produced the elaborate and exquisite ornaments in this room is in strong contrast to the severe simplicity of the works of sir john soane. stow, speaking of st. christopher's, the old church removed when the bank was built, says, "towards the stokes market is the parish church of st. christopher, but re-edified of new; for richard shore, one of the sheriffes, , gave money towards the building of the steeple." richard at lane was collated to this living in the year . "having seen and observed the said parish church of st. christopher, with all the gravestones and monuments therein, and finding a faire tombe of touch, wherein lyeth the body of robert thorne, merchant taylor and a batchelor, buried, having given by his testament in charity , pounds to pious uses; then looking for some such memory, as might adorne and beautifie the name of another famous batchelor, mr. john kendricke; and found none, but only his hatchments and banners." many of the houblons were buried in this church. "the court-room of the bank," says francis, "is a noble apartment, by sir robert taylor, of the composite order, about feet long and feet inches wide, with large venetian windows on the south, overlooking that which was formerly the churchyard of st. christopher. the north side is remarkable for three exquisite chimney-pieces of statuary marble, the centre being the most magnificent. the east and west are distinguished by columns detached from the walls, supporting beautiful arches, which again support a ceiling rich with ornament. the west leads by folding doors to an elegant octagonal committee-room, with a fine marble chimney-piece. the governor's room is square, with various paintings, one of which is a portrait of william iii. in armour, an intersected ceiling, and semi-circular windows. this chimney-piece is also of statuary marble; and on the wall is a fine painting, by marlow, of the bank, bank buildings, cornhill, and royal exchange. an ante-room contains portraits of mr. abraham newland and another of the old cashiers, taken as a testimony of the appreciation of the directors. in the waiting-room are two busts, by nollekens, of charles james fox and william pitt. the original rotunda, by sir robert taylor, was roofed in with timber; but when a survey was made, in , it was found advisable to take it down; and in the ensuing year the present rotunda was built, under the superintendence of sir john soane. it measures feet in diameter and about the same in height to the lower part of the lantern. it is formed of incombustible materials, as are all the offices erected under the care of sir john soane. for many years this place was a scene of constant confusion, caused by the presence of the stockbrokers and jobbers. in this annoyance was abolished, the occupants were ejected from the rotunda, and the space employed in cashing the dividend-warrants of the fundholders. the offices appropriated to the management of the various stocks are all close to or branch out from the rotunda. the dividends are paid in two rooms devoted to that purpose, and the transfers are kept separate. they are arranged in books, under the various letters of the alphabet, containing the names of the proprietors and the particulars of their property. some of the stock-offices were originally constructed by sir robert taylor, but it has been found necessary to make great alterations, and most of them are designed from some classical model; thus the three per cent. consol office, which, however, was built by sir john soane, is taken from the ancient roman baths, and is feet inches in length and feet in breadth. the chief cashier's office, an elegant and spacious apartment, is built after the style of the temple of the sun and moon at rome, and measures feet by . "the fine court which leads into lothbury presents a magnificent display of greek and roman architecture. the buildings on the east and west sides are nearly hidden by open screens of stone, consisting of a lofty entablature, surmounted by vases, and resting on columns of the corinthian order, the bases of which rest on a double flight of steps. this part of the edifice was copied from the beautiful temple of the sybils, near tivoli. a noble arch, after the model of the triumphal arch of constantine, at rome, forms the entrance into the bullion yard." the old clearing house of is thus described:--"in a large room is a table, with as numerous drawers as there are city bankers, with the name of each banker on his drawer, having an aperture to introduce the cheque upon him, whereof he retains the key. "a clerk going with a charge of £ , , perhaps, upon all the other bankers, puts the cheques through their respective apertures into their drawers at three o'clock. he returns at four, unlocks his own drawer, and finds the others have collectively put into his drawer drafts upon him to the amount, say, of £ , ; consequently he has £ , , the difference, to pay. he searches for another, who has a larger balance to receive, and gives him a memorandum for this £ , ; he, for another; so that it settles with two, who frequently, with a very few thousands in bank-notes, settle millions bought and sold daily in london, without the immense repetition of receipts and payments that would otherwise ensue, or the immense increase of circulating medium that would be otherwise necessary." the illustration on page represents the appearance of the present clearing house. the business done at this establishment daily is enormous, amounting to something like £ , , each day. "all the sovereigns," says mr. wills, "returned from the banking-houses are consigned to a secluded cellar; and, when you enter it, you will possibly fancy yourself on the premises of a clockmaker who works by steam. your attention is speedily concentrated on a small brass box, not larger than an eight-day pendule, the works of which are impelled by steam. this is a self-acting weighing machine, which, with unerring precision, tells which sovereigns are of standard weight, and which are light, and of its own accord separates the one from the other. imagine a long trough or spout--half a tube that has been split into two sections--of such a semi-circumference as holds sovereigns edgeways, and of sufficient length to allow of two hundred of them to rest in that position one against another. the trough thus charged is fixed slopingly upon the machine, over a little table, as big as the plate of an ordinary sovereign-balance. the coin nearest to the lilliputian platform drops upon it, being pushed forward by the weight of those behind. its own weight presses the table down; but how far down? upon that hangs the whole merit and discriminating power of the machine. at the back and on each side of this small table, two little hammers move by steam backwards and forwards at different elevations. if the sovereign be full weight, down sinks the table too low for the higher hammer to hit it, but the lower one strikes the edge, and off the sovereign tumbles into a receiver to the left. the table pops up again, receiving, perhaps, a light sovereign, and the higher hammer, having always first strike, knocks it into a receiver to the right, time enough to escape its colleague, which, when it comes forward, has nothing to hit, and returns, to allow the table to be elevated again. in this way the reputation of thirty-three sovereigns is established or destroyed every minute. the light weights are taken to a clipping machine, slit at the rate of two hundred a minute, weighed in a lump, the balance of deficiency charged to the banker from whom they were received, and sent to the mint to be re-coined. those which have passed muster are re-issued to the public. the inventor of this beautiful little detector was mr. cotton, a former governor. the comparatively few sovereigns brought in by the general public are weighed in ordinary scales by the tellers." the bank water-mark--or, more properly, the wire-mark--is obtained by twisting wires to the desired form or design, and sticking them on the face of the mould; therefore the design is above the level face of the mould by the thickness of the wires it is composed of. hence the pulp, in settling down on the mould, must of necessity be thinner on the wire design than on the other parts of the sheet. when the water has run off through the sieve-like face of the mould, the new-born sheet of paper is "couched," the mould gently but firmly pressed upon a blanket, to which the spongy sheet clings. sizing is a subsequent process, and, when dry, the water-mark is plainly discernible, being, of course, transparent where the substance is thinnest. the paper is then dried, and made up into reams of sheets each, ready for press. the water-mark in the notes of the bank of england is secured to that establishment by virtue of a special act of parliament. it is scarcely necessary to inform the reader that imitation of anything whatever connected with a bank-note is an extremely unsafe experiment. this curious sort of paper is unique. there is nothing like it in the world of sheets. tested by the touch, it gives out a crisp, crackling, sharp music, which resounds from no other quires. to the eye it shows a colour belonging neither to blue-wove, nor yellow-wove, nor cream-laid, but a white, like no other white, either in paper and pulp. the three rough fringy edges are called the "deckelled" edges, being the natural boundary of the pulp when first moulded; the fourth is left smooth by the knife, which eventually cuts the two notes in twain. this paper is so thin that, when printed, there is much difficulty in making erasures; yet it is so strong, that "a water-leaf" (a leaf before the application of size) will support thirty-six pounds, and, with the addition of one grain of size, will hold half a hundredweight, without tearing. yet the quantity of fibre of which it consists is no more than eighteen grains and a half. dividend day at the bank has been admirably described, in the wittiest manner, by a modern essayist in _household words_:--"another public creditor," says the writer, "appears in the shape of a drover, with a goad, who has run in to present his claim during his short visit from essex. near him are a lime-coloured labourer, from some wharf at bankside, and a painter who has left his scaffolding in the neighbourhood during his dinner hour. next come several widows--some florid, stout, and young; some lean, yellow, and careworn, followed by a gay-looking lady, in a showy dress, who may have obtained her share of the national debt in another way. an old man, attired in a stained, rusty, black suit, crawls in, supported by a long staff, like a weary pilgrim who has at last reached the golden mecca. those who are drawing money from the accumulation of their hard industry, or their patient self-denial, can be distinguished at a glance from those who are receiving the proceeds of unexpected and unearned legacies. the first have a faded, anxious, almost disappointed look, while the second are sprightly, laughing, and observant of their companions. [illustration: "jonathan's." _from an old sketch._] "towards the hour of noon, on the first day of the quarterly payment, the crowd of national creditors becomes more dense, and is mixed up with substantial capitalists in high check neckties, double-breasted waistcoats, curly-rimmed hats, narrow trousers, and round-toed boots. parties of thin, limp, damp-smelling women, come in with mouldy umbrellas and long, chimney-cowl-shaped bonnets, made of greasy black silk, or threadbare black velvet--the worn-out fashions of a past generation. some go about their business in confidential pairs; some in company with a trusted maid-servant as fossilised as themselves; some under the guidance of eager, ancient-looking girl-children; while some stand alone in corners, suspicious of help or observation. one national creditor is unwilling, not only that the visitors shall know what amount her country owes her, but also what particular funds she holds as security. she stands carelessly in the centre of the warrant office, privately scanning the letters and figures nailed all round the walls, which direct the applicant at what desk to apply; her long tunnel of a bonnet, while it conceals her face, moves with the guarded action of her head, like the tube of a telescope when the astronomer is searching for a lost planet. some of these timid female creditors, when their little claim has been satisfied (for £ , in the consols only produces £ s. a quarter), retire to an archway in the rotunda, where there are two high-backed leathern chairs, behind the shelter of which, with a needle and thread, they stitch the money into some secret part of their antiquated garments. the two private detective officers on duty generally watch these careful proceedings with amusement and interest, and are looked upon by the old fundholders and annuitants as highly dangerous and suspicious characters." among the curiosities shown to visitors are the bank parlour, the counting-room, and the printing-room; the albums containing original £ , notes, signed by various illustrious persons; and the bank-note library, now containing ninety million notes that have been cancelled during the last seven years. there is one note for a million sterling, and a note for £ that had been out years. in the early part of the century, when "the green man," "the lady in black," and other oddities notorious for some peculiarity of dress, were well known in the city, the "white lady of threadneedle street" was a daily visitor to the bank of england. she was, it is said, the sister of a poor young clerk who had forged the signature to a transfer-warrant, and who was hung in . she had been a needle-worker for an army contractor, and lived with her brother and an old aunt in windmill street, finsbury. her mind became affected at her brother's disgraceful death, and every day after, at noon, she used to cross the rotunda to the pay-counter. her one unvarying question was, "is my brother, mr. frederick, here to-day?" the invariable answer was, "no, miss, not to-day." she seldom remained above five minutes, and her last words always were, "give my love to him when he returns. i will call to-morrow." chapter xli. the stock exchange. the kingdom of change alley--a william iii. reuter--stock exchange tricks--bulls and bears--thomas guy, the hospital founder--sir john barnard, the "great commoner"--sampson gideon, the famous jew broker--alexander fordyce--a cruel quaker criticism--stockbrokers and longevity--the stock exchange in --the money articles in the london papers--the case of benjamin walsh, m.p.--the de berenger conspiracy--lord cochrane unjustly accused--"ticket pocketing"--system of business at the stock exchange--"popgun john"--nathan rothschild--secrecy of his operations--rothschild outdone by stratagem--grotesque sketch of rothschild--abraham goldsmid--vicissitudes of the stock exchange--the spanish panic of --the railway mania--ricardo's golden rules--a clerical intruder in capel court--amusements of stockbrokers--laws of the stock exchange--the pigeon express--the "alley man"--purchase of stock--eminent members of the stock exchange. the royal exchange, in the reign of william iii., being found vexatiously thronged, the money-dealers, in , betook themselves to change alley, then an unappropriated area. a writer of the period says:--"the centre of jobbing is in the kingdom of 'change alley. you may go over its limits in about a minute and a half. stepping out of jonathan's into the alley, you turn your face full south; moving on a few paces, and then turning to the east, you advance to garraway's; from thence, going out at the other door, you go on, still east, into birchin lane; and then, halting at the sword-blade bank, you immediately face to the north, enter cornhill, visit two or three petty provinces there on your way to the west; and thus, having boxed your compass, and sailed round the stock-jobbing globe, you turn into jonathan's again." sir henry furnese, a bank director, was the reuter of those times. he paid for constant despatches from holland, flanders, france, and germany. his early intelligence of every battle, and especially of the fall of namur, swelled his profits amazingly. king william gave him a diamond ring as a reward for early information; yet he condescended to fabricate news, and his plans for influencing the funds were probably the types of similar modern tricks. if furnese wished to buy, his brokers looked gloomy; and, the alarm spread, completed their bargains. in this manner prices were lowered four or five per cent. in a few hours. the jew medina, we are assured, granted marlborough an annuity of £ , for permission to attend his campaigns, and amply repaid himself by the use of the early intelligence he obtained. when, in , says "aleph," the pretender landed in scotland, after the dispersion of his forces, a carriage and six was seen in the road near perth, apparently destined for london. letters reached the metropolis announcing the capture of the discomfited stuart; the funds rose, and a large profit was realised by the trick. stock-jobbers must have been highly prosperous at that period, as a quaker, named quare, a watchmaker of celebrity, who had made a large fortune by money speculations, had for his guests at his daughter's wedding-feast the famous duchess of marlborough and the princess of wales, who attended with quality visitors. during the struggle between the old and new east india companies, boroughs were sold openly in the alley to their respective partisans; and in parliamentary seats came to market there as commonly as lottery tickets. towards the close of anne's reign, a well-dressed horseman rode furiously down the queen's road, loudly proclaiming her majesty's demise. the hoax answered, the funds falling with ominous alacrity; but it was observed, that while the christian jobbers kept aloof, sir manasseh lopez and the hebrew brokers bought readily at the reduced rate. the following extracts from cibber's play of _the refusal; or, the ladies' philosophy_, produced in , show the antiquity of the terms "bull" and "bear." this comedy abounds in allusions to the doings in 'change alley, and one of the characters, sir gilbert wrangle, is a south sea director:-- _granger_ (_to witling, who has been boasting of his gain_): and all this out of 'change alley? _witling:_ every shilling, sir; all out of stocks, puts, bulls, shams, bears and bubbles. and again:-- there (in the alley) you'll see a duke dangling after a director; here a peer and a 'prentice haggling for an eighth; there a jew and a parson making up differences; there a young woman of quality buying bears of a quaker; and there an old one selling refusals to a lieutenant of grenadiers. [illustration: capel court.] the following is from an old paper, dated july th, : "yesterday the brokers and others at 'new jonathan's' came to a resolution, that instead of its being called 'new jonathan's,' it should be called 'the stock exchange,' which is to be wrote over the door. the brokers then collected sixpence each, and christened the house with punch." one of the great stockbrokers of queen anne's reign was thomas guy, the founder of one of the noblest hospitals in the world, who died in . he was the son of a lighterman, and for many years stood behind a counter and sold books. acquiring a small amount of ready cash, he was tempted to employ it in change alley; it turned to excellent account, and soon led him to a far more profitable traffic in those tickets with which, from the time of charles ii., our seamen were remunerated. they were paid in paper, not readily convertible, and were forced to part with their wages at any discount which it pleased the money-lenders to fix. guy made large purchases in these tickets at an immense reduction, and by such not very creditable means, with some windfalls during the south sea agitation, he realised a fortune of £ , . half a million was then almost a fabulous sum, and it was constantly increasing, owing to his penurious habits. he died at the age of eighty-one, leaving by will £ , to the hospital which bears his name. his body lay in state at mercers' chapel, and was interred in the asylum he raised, where, ten years after his death, a statue was erected to his memory. [illustration: the clearing house.] sir john barnard, a great opponent of stockbrokers, proposed, in , to reduce the interest on the national debt from four to three per cent., the public being at liberty to receive their principal in full if they preferred. this anticipation of a modern financial change was not adopted. at this period, £ , , were held by foreigners in british funds. in , the reduction from four to three per cent. interest on the funded debt was effected, and though much clamour followed, no reasonable ground for complaint was alleged, as the measure was very cautiously carried out. sir john barnard, the peel of a bygone age, was commonly denominated the "great commoner." of the stock-jobbers he always spoke with supreme contempt; in return, they hated him most cordially. on the money market it was not unusual to hear the merchants inquire, "what does sir john say to this? what is sir john's opinion?" he refused the post of chancellor of the exchequer in , and from the moment his statue was set up in gresham's exchange he would never enter the building, but carried on his monetary affairs outside. the barnard blood still warms the veins of some of our wealthiest commercial magnates, since his son married the daughter of a capitalist, known in the city as "the great banker, sir john hankey." sampson gideon, the famous jew broker, died in . some of his shrewd sayings are preserved. take a specimen: "never grant a life annuity to an old woman; they wither, but they never die." if the proposed annuitant coughed, gideon called out, "ay, ay, you may cough, but it shan't save you six months' purchase!" in one of his dealings with snow, a banker alluded to by dean swift, snow lent gideon £ , . the "forty-five" followed, and the banker forwarded a whining epistle to him speaking of stoppage, bankruptcy, and concluding the letter with a passionate request for his money. gideon procured , bank-notes, rolled them round a phial of hartshorn, and thus mockingly repaid the loan. gideon's fortune was made by the advance of the rebels towards london. stocks fell awfully, but hastening to "jonathan's," he bought all in the market, spending all his cash, and pledging his name for more. the pretender retreated, and the sagacious hebrew became a millionaire. mr. gideon had a sovereign contempt for fine clothes; an essayist of the day writes, "neither guy nor gideon ever regarded dress." he educated his children in the christian faith; "but," said he, "i'm too old to change." "gideon is dead," says one of his biographers, "worth more than the whole land of canaan. he has left the reversion of all his milk and honey--after his son and daughter, and their children--to the duke of devonshire, without insisting on his assuming his name, or being circumcised!" his views must have been liberal, for he left a legacy of £ , to the sons of the clergy, and of £ , to the london hospital. he also gave £ , to the synagogue, on condition of having his remains interred in the jewish burying-place. in , the occurrence of some scotch failures led to a change-alley panic, and the downfall of alexander fordyce, who, for years, had been the most thriving jobber in london. he was a hosier in aberdeen, but came to london to improve his fortunes. the money game was in his favour. he was soon able to purchase a large estate. he built a church at his private cost, and spent thousands in trying to obtain a seat in parliament. marrying a lady of title, on whom he made a liberal settlement, he bought several scotch lairdships, endowed an hospital, and founded several charities. but the lease of his property was short. his speculations suddenly grew desperate; hopeless ruin ensued; and a great number of capitalists were involved in his fall. the consternation was extreme, nor can we wonder, since his bills, to the amount of £ , , , were in circulation. he earnestly sought, but in vain, for pecuniary aid. the bank refused it, and when he applied for help to a wealthy quaker, "friend fordyce," was the answer, "i have known many men ruined by _two dice_, but i will not be ruined by _four-dice_." in , a stockbroker, named atkinson, probably from the "north countree," speculated enormously, but skilfully, we must suppose, for he realised a fortune of £ , . his habits were eccentric. at a friend's dinner party he abruptly turned to a lady who occupied the next chair, saying, "if you, madam, will entrust me with £ , for three years, i will employ it advantageously." the speaker was well known, and his offer accepted; and at the end of the three years, to the very day, atkinson called on the lady with £ , , to which, by his adroit management, her deposit had increased. in general (says "aleph," in the _city press_), a stock-jobber's pursuits tend to shorten life; violent excitement, and the constant alternation of hope and fear, wear out the brain, and soon lead to disease or death. yet instances of great longevity occur in this class: john rive, after many active years in the alley, retired to the continent, and died at the age of . the author of "the bank mirror" (circa ) gives a graphic description of the stock exchange of that period. "the scene opens," he says, "about twelve, with the call of the prices of stock, the shouting out of names, the recital of news, &c., much in the following manner:--'a mail come in--what news? what news?--steady, steady--consols for to-morrow--here, consols!--you old timber-toe, have you got any scrip?--private advices from--a wicked old peer in disguise sold--what do you do?--here, consols! consols!--letters from--a great house has stopt--payment of the five per cents commences--across the rhine--the austrians routed--the french pursuing!--four per cents for the opening!--four per cents--sir sydney smith exchanged for--short annuities--shorts! shorts! shorts!--a messenger extraordinary sent to--gibraltar fortifying against--a spanish fleet seen in--reduced annuities for to-morrow--i'm a seller of--lame ducks waddling--under a cloud hanging over--the cape of good hope retaken by--lottery tickets!--here, tickets! tickets! tickets!--the archduke charles of austria fled into--india stock!--clear the way, there, moses!--reduced annuities for money!--i'm a buyer--reduced! reduced! (_rattles spring._) what a d----d noise you make there with the rattles!--five per cents!--i'm a seller!--five per cents! five per cents!--the french in full march for--the pope on his knees--following the direction of his native meekness into--consols! consols!--smoke the old girl in silk shoes there! madam, do you want a broker?--four per cents--the dutch fleet skulked into--short annuities!--the french army retreating!--the austrians pursuing!--consols! consols! bravo!--who's afraid?--up they go! up they go!--'de empress de russia dead!'--you lie, mordecai! i'll stuff your mouth with pork, you dog!--long annuities! long annuities! knock that fellow's hat off, there!--he'll waddle, to-morrow--here, long annuities! short annuities--longs and shorts!--the prince of condé fled!--consols!--the french bombarding frankfort!--reduced annuities--down they go! down they go!--you, levi, you're a thief, and i'm a gentleman--step to garraway's, and bid isaacs come here--bank stock!--consols!--give me thy hand, solomon!--didst thou not hear the guns fire?--noble news! great news!--here, consols! st. lucia taken!--st. vincent taken!--french fleets blocked up! english fleets triumphant! bravo! up we go! up, up, up!--imperial annuities! imperial! imperial!--get out of my sunshine, moses, you d--d little israelite!--consols! consols! &c.' ... the noise of the screech-owl, the howling of the wolf, the barking of the mastiff, the grunting of the hog, the braying of the ass, the nocturnal wooing of the cat, the hissing of the snake, the croaking of toads, frogs, and grasshoppers--all these in unison could not be more hideous than the noise which these beings make in the stock exchange. and as several of them get into the bank, the beadles are provided with rattles, which they occasionally spring, to drown their noise and give the fair purchaser or seller room and opportunity to transact their business; for that part of the rotunda to which the avenue from bartholomew lane leads is often so crowded with them that people cannot enter." about , the shares of this old stock exchange having fallen into few hands, they boldly attempted, instead of a sixpenny diurnal admission to every person presenting himself at the bar, to make it a close subscription-room of ten guineas per annum for each member, and thereby to shut out all petty or irregular traffickers, to increase the revenues of this their monopolised market. a violent democracy revolted at this imposition and invasion of the rights, privileges, and immunities of a public market for the public stock. they proposed to raise shares of £ each, creating a fund of £ , wherewith to build a new, uninfluenced, unaristocraticised, free, open market. those shares were never, as in the old conventicle, to condense into a few hands, for fear of a dread aristocracy returning. mendoza's boxing-room, the debating-forum up capel court, and buildings contiguous with the freehold site, were purchased, and the foundation-stone was laid for this temple, to be, when completed, consecrated to free, open traffic. in ambrose charles, a bank clerk, publicly charged the earl of moira, a cabinet minister, with using official intelligence to aid him in speculating in the funds. the premier was compelled to investigate the charge, but no truthful evidence could be adduced, and the falsehood of his allegations was made apparent. mark sprat, a remarkable speculator, died in . he came to london with small means, but getting an introduction to the stock exchange, was wonderfully successful. in he contracted for the lottery; and in and the three following years he was foremost among those who contracted for the loans. during lord melville's trial, he was asked whether he did not act as banker for members of both houses. "i never do business with privileged persons!" was his reply, which might have referred to the following fact:--a broker came to sprat in great distress. he had acted largely for a principal who, the prices going against him, refused to make up his losses. "who was the scoundrel?" "a nobleman of immense property." sprat volunteered to go with him to his dishonest debtor. the great man coolly answered, it was not convenient to pay. the broker declared that unless the account was settled by a fixed hour next day, his lordship would be posted as a defaulter. long before the time appointed the matter was arranged, and sprat's friend rescued from ruin. the history of the money articles in the london papers is thus given by the author of "the city." in and (says the writer), the papers had commenced regularly to publish the prices of consols and the other securities then in the market, but the list was merely furnished by a stockbroker, who was allowed, as a privilege for his services, to append his name and address, thereby receiving the advantages of an advertisement without having to pay for it. a further improvement was effected by inserting small paragraphs, giving an outline of events occurring in relation to city matters, but these occupied no acknowledged position, and only existed as ordinary intelligence. however, from up to , considerable changes took place in the arrangements of the several daily journals; and a new era almost commenced in city life with the numerous companies started on the joint-stock principle at the more advanced period, and then it was that this department appears to have received serious attention from the heads of the leading journals. the description of matter comprised in city articles has not been known in its present form more than fifty years. there seems a doubt whether they first originated with the _times_ or the _herald_. opinion is by some parties given in favour of the last-mentioned paper. whichever establishment may be entitled to the praise for commencing so useful a compendium of city news, one thing appears very certain--viz., that no sooner was it adopted by the one paper, than the other followed closely in the line chalked out. the regular city article appears only to have had existence since - , when the first effect of that over-speculating period was felt in the insolvency of public companies, and the breakage of banks. contributions of this description had been made and published, as already noticed, in separate paragraphs throughout the papers as early as and ; but these took no very prominent position till the more important period of the close of the war, and the declaration of peace with europe. in , the case of benjamin walsh, m.p., a member of the stock exchange, occasioned a prodigious sensation. sir thomas plomer employed him as his broker, and, buying an estate, found it necessary to sell stock. walsh advised him not to sell directly, as the funds were rising; the deeds were not prepared, and the advice was accepted. soon after, walsh said the time to sell was come, for the funds would quickly fall. the money being realised, walsh recommended the purchase of exchequer bills as a good investment. till the cash was wanted, sir thomas gave a cheque for £ , to walsh, who undertook to lodge the notes at gosling's. in the evening he brought an acknowledgment for £ , , promising to make up the amount next day. sir thomas called at his bankers, and found that a cheque for £ , had been sent, but too late for presentation, and in the morning the cheque was refused. in fact, walsh had disposed of the whole; giving £ , to his broker, purchasing £ , of american stock, and buying £ , worth of portuguese doubloons. he was tried and declared guilty; but certain legal difficulties were interposed; the judges gave a favourable decision; he was released from newgate, and formally expelled from the house of commons. such crimes seem almost incredible, for such culprits can have no chance of escape; as, even when the verdict of a jury is favourable, their character and position must be absolutely and hopelessly lost. in these comparatively steady-going times, the funds often remain for months with little or no variation; but during the last years of the french war, a difference of eight or even ten per cent. might happen in an hour, and scripholders might realise eighteen or twenty per cent. by the change in the loans they so eagerly sought. from what a fearful load of ever-increasing expenditure the nation was relieved by the peace resulting from the battle of waterloo, may be judged from the fact that the decrease of government charges was at once declared to exceed £ , , per month. one of the most extraordinary stock exchange conspiracies ever devised was that carried out by de berenger and cochrane johnstone in . it was a time when bonaparte's military operations against the allies had depressed the funds, and great national anxiety prevailed. the conspiracy was dramatically carried out. on the st of february, , about one a.m., a violent knocking was heard at the door of the "ship inn," then the principal hotel of dover. on the door being opened, a person in richly embroidered scarlet uniform, wet with spray, announced himself as lieutenant-colonel de bourg, aide-de-camp of lord cathcart. he had a star and silver medals on his breast, and wore a dark fur travelling cap, banded with gold. he said he had been brought over by a french vessel from calais, the master of which, afraid of touching at dover, had landed him about two miles off, along the coast. he was the bearer of important news--the allies had gained a great victory and had entered paris. bonaparte had been overtaken by a detachment of sachen's cossacks, who had slain and cut him into a thousand pieces. general platoff had saved paris from being reduced to ashes. the white cockade was worn everywhere, and an immediate peace was now certain. he immediately ordered out a post-chaise and four, but first wrote the news to admiral foley, the port-admiral at deal. the letter reached the admiral about four a.m., but the morning proving foggy, the telegraph would not work. off dashed de bourg (really de berenger, an adventurer, afterwards a livery-stable keeper), throwing napoleons to the post-boys every time he changed horses. at bexley heath, finding the telegraph could not have worked, he moderated his pace and spread the news of the cossacks fighting for napoleon's body. at the marsh gate, lambeth, he entered a hackney coach, telling the post-boys to spread the news on their return. by a little after ten, the rumours reached the stock exchange, and the funds rose; but on its being found that the lord mayor had had no intelligence, they soon went down again. in the meantime other artful confederates were at work. the same day, about an hour before daylight, two men, dressed as foreigners, landed from a six-oar galley, and called on a gentleman of northfleet, and handed him a letter from an old friend, begging him to take the bearers to london, as they had great public news to communicate; they were accordingly taken. about twelve or one the same afternoon, three persons (two of whom were dressed as french officers) drove slowly over london bridge in a post-chaise, the horses of which were bedecked with laurel. the officers scattered billets to the crowd, announcing the death of napoleon and the fall of paris. they then paraded through cheapside and fleet street, passed over blackfriars bridge, drove rapidly to the marsh gate, lambeth, got out, changed their cocked hats for round ones, and disappeared as de bourg had done. the funds once more rose, and long bargains were made; but still some doubt was felt by the less sanguine, as the ministers as yet denied all knowledge of the news. hour after hour passed by, and the certainty of the falsity of the news gradually developed itself. "to these scenes of joy," says a witness, "and of greedy expectations of gain, succeeded, in a few hours, disappointment and shame at having been gulled, the clenching of fists, the grinding of teeth, the tearing of hair, all the outward and visible signs of those inward commotions of disappointed avarice in some, consciousness of ruin in others, and in all boiling revenge." a committee was appointed by the stock exchange to track out the conspiracy, as on the two days before consols and omnium, to the amount of £ , , had been purchased by persons implicated. because one of the gang had for a blind called on the celebrated lord cochrane, and because a relation of his engaged in the affair had purchased consols for him, that he might unconsciously benefit by the fraud, the tories, eager to destroy a bitter political enemy, concentrated all their rage on as high-minded, pure, and chivalrous a man as ever trod a frigate's deck. he was tried june , , at the court of queen's bench, fined £ , , and sentenced ignominiously to stand one hour in the pillory. this latter part of his sentence the government was, however, afraid to carry out, as sir francis burdett had declared that if it was done, he would stand beside his friend on the scaffold of shame. to crown all, cochrane's political enemies had him stripped of his knighthood, and the escutcheon of his order disgracefully kicked down the steps of the chapel in westminster abbey. for some years this true successor of nelson remained a branded exile, devoting his courage to the cause of universal liberty, lost to the country which he loved so much. in his old age tardy justice restored to him his unsoiled coronet, and finally awarded him a grave among her heroes. the ticket pocketing of is thus described by the author of "an exposé of the mysteries of the stock exchange:"--"of all the tricks," he says, "practised against goldschmidt, the ticket pocketing scheme was, perhaps, the most iniquitous: it was to prevent the buying in on a settling day the balance of the account, and to defeat the consequent rise, thereby making the real bear a fictitious bull account. to give the reader a conception of this, and of the practices as well as the interior of the stock exchange, the following attempted delineation is submitted:--the doors open before ten, and at the minute of ten the spirit-stirring rattle grates to action. consols are, suppose, to - / --that is, buyers at the lower and sellers at the higher price. trifling manoeuvres and puffing up till twelve, as neither party wish the government broker to buy under the highest price; the sinking-fund purchaser being the point of diurnal altitude, as the period before a loan is the annually depressed point of price, when the stock exchange have the orbit of these revolutions under their own control. "at twelve the broker mounts the rostrum and opens: 'gentlemen, i am a buyer of £ , consols for government, at .' 'at / th, sir,' the jobbers resound; 'ten thousand of me--five of me--two of me,' holding up as many fingers. nathan, goldschmidt's agent, says, 'you may have them all of me at your own bidding, .' in ten minutes this commission is earned from the public, and this state sinking-fund joint stock jobbed. nathan is hustled, his hat and wig thrown upon the commissioner's sounding-board, and he must stand bareheaded until the porter can bring a ladder to get it down. out squalls a ticket-carrier, 'done at / ;' again, 'at / , all a-going;' and the contractors must go, too; they have served the commissioners at , when the market was full one-eighth. all must come to market before next omnium payment; they cannot keep it up (yet this operation might have suited the positions of the market). nathan cries out, 'where done at / ths?' 'here--there, there, there!' mr. doubleface, going out at the door, meets mr. ambush, a brother bear, with a wink, 'sir, they are / ths, i believe, sellers; you may have £ , thereat, and £ , at / ths.' this is called fiddling: it is allowable to jobbers thus to bring the turn to / th, or a nd, but not to brokers, as thereby the public would not be fleeced / th, to the house benefit. 'sir, i would not take them at / th,' replies mr. ambush. 'offered at / ths and / ths,' bawls out an urchin scout, holding up his face to the ceiling, that by the re-echo his spot may not be discovered." the system of business at the stock exchange is thus described by an accomplished writer on the subject: "bargains are made in the presence of a third person. the terms are simply entered in a pocket-book, but are checked the next day; and the jobber's clerk (also a member of the house) pays or receives the money, and sees that the securities are correct. there are but three or four dealers in exchequer bills. most members of the stock exchange keep their money in convertible securities, so that it can be changed from hand to hand almost at a moment's notice. the brokers execute the orders of bankers, merchants, and private individuals; and the jobbers are the persons with whom they deal. when the broker appears in the market, he is at once surrounded by eager jobbers. one of the cries of the stock exchange is, 'borrow money? borrow money?'--a singular cry to general apprehension, but it of course implies that the credit of the borrower must be first-rate, or his security of the most satisfactory nature, and that it is not the principal who goes into the market, but only the principal's broker. 'have you money to lend to-day?' is a startling question often asked with perfect _nonchalance_ in the stock exchange. if the answer is 'yes,' the borrower says, 'i want £ , or £ , .'--'at what security?' is the vital question that soon follows. "another mode of doing business is to conceal the object of the borrower or lender, who asks, 'what are exchequer?' the answer may be, 'forty and forty-two.' that is, the party addressed will buy £ , at shillings, and sell £ , at shillings. the jobbers cluster round the broker, who perhaps says, 'i must have a price in £ , .' if it suits them, they will say, 'five with me,' 'five with me,' 'five with me,' making fifteen; or they will say, 'ten with me;' and it is the broker's business to get these parties pledged to buy of him at , or to sell to him at , they not knowing whether he is a buyer or a seller. the broker then declares his purpose, saying, for example, 'gentlemen, i sell to you £ , at ;' and the sum is then apportioned among them. if the money were wanted only for a month, and the exchequer market remained the same during the time, the buyer would have to give in the market for what he sold at , being the difference between the buying and the selling price, besides which he would have to pay the broker s. per cent. commission on the sale, and s. per cent. on the purchase, again on the bills, which would make altogether s. per cent. if the object of the broker be to buy consols, the jobber offers to buy his £ , at , or to sell him that amount at - / , without being at all aware which he is engaging himself to do. the same person may not know on any particular day whether he will be a borrower or a lender. if he has sold stock, and has not re-purchased about one or two o'clock in the day, he would be a lender of money; but if he has bought stock, and not sold, he would be a borrower. immense sums are lent on condition of being recalled on the short notice of a few hours." the uninitiated wonder that any man should borrow £ , or £ , for a day, or at most a fortnight, when it is liable to be called for at the shortest notice. the directors of a railway company, instead of locking up their money, send the £ , or £ , a week to a broker, to be lent on proper securities. persons who pay large duties to government at fixed periods, lend the sums for a week or two. a person intending to lay out his capital in mortgage or real property, lends out the sum till he meets with a suitable offer. the great bankers lend their surplus cash on the stock exchange. a jobber, at the close of the day, will lend his money at per cent., rather than not employ it at all. the extraordinary fluctuations in the rate of interest even in a single day are a great temptation to the money-lender to resort to the stock exchange. "instances have occurred," says our authority, "when in the morning everybody has been anxious to lend money at per cent., when about two o'clock money has become so scarce that it could with difficulty be borrowed at per cent. if the price of consols be low, persons who are desirous of raising money will give a high rate of interest rather than sell stock." the famous pop-gun plot was generally supposed to have been a stock exchange trick. a writer on stockbroking says: "the pop-gun plot, in palace yard, on a memorable occasion of the king going to the parliament house, was never understood or traced home. it is said to have originated in a stock exchange hoax. 'popgun john' was at the time a low republican in the stock exchange, and had a house in or near palace yard, from which a missile had been projected. he subsequently grew rich." [illustration: the present stock exchange.] the journals of that day described the hot pursuit by the myrmidons being cooled by a well-got-up story that the fugitive suspected had been unfortunately drowned; and in proof, a hat picked up by a waterman at the nore was brought wet to the police office, and proved to have belonged to the person pursued. the plotter disappeared after this "drowning" for some months, while the hush-money and sinister manoeuvres were baffling the pursuers. afterwards, the affair dying away, he reappeared, resuscitated, in the stock exchange, making very little secret of this extraordinary affair, and would relate it in ordinary conversation on the stock exchange benches, as a philosophical experiment, not intended to endanger the king's life, but certainly planned to frighten the public, so as to effect a fall, and realise a profitable bear account; if sufficient to trip up the contractors, the better. while the dupes of the cato street conspiracy were dangling before the "debtor's door," the surviving adept of the former plot, from his villa not ten miles from london, was mounting his carriage to drive to the stock exchange, to operate upon the effect this example might produce in the public mind, and, consequently, realising his now large portion of funded property. "if there are any members now of that standing in the stock exchange, they must remember how artlessly the tale of this philosophical experiment used to be told by the contriver of it in a year or two afterwards, in reliance upon stock exchange men's honour and confidence. in the year , nathan, the third son of meyer anselm rothschild, of frankfort, intimated to his father that he would go to england, and there commence business. the father knew the intrepidity of nathan, and had great confidence in his financial skill: he interposed, therefore, no difficulties. the plan was proposed on tuesday, and on thursday it was put into execution. nathan was entrusted with £ , , and though perfectly ignorant of the english language, he commenced a most gigantic career, so that in a brief period the above sum increased to the amount of £ , . manchester was his starting-point. he took a comprehensive survey of its products, and observed that by proper management a treble harvest might be reaped from them. he secured the three profitable trades in his grasp--viz., the raw material, the dyeing, and the manufacturing--and was consequently able to sell goods cheaper than any one else. his profits were immense, and manchester soon became too little for his speculative mind. nevertheless, he would not have left it were it not a private pique against one of his co-religionists, which originated by the dishonouring of a bill which was made payable to him, disgusted him with the manchester community. in , therefore, he quitted manchester for the metropolis. with giant strides he progressed in his prosperity. the confused and insecure state of the continent added to his fortune, and contributed to his fame. the prince of hesse cassel, in flying from the approach of the republican armies, desired, as he passed through frankfort, to store a vast amount of wealth, in such a manner as might leave him a chance of recovery after the storm had passed by. he sought out meyer anselm rothschild, and confided all his worldly possessions to the keeping of the hebrew banker. meyer anselm, either from fear of loss or hope of gain, sent the money to his son nathan, settled in london, and the latter thus alluded to this circumstance: "the prince of hesse cassel gave my father his money; there was no time to be lost; he sent it to me. i had £ , arrive by post unexpectedly; and i put it to so good use, that the prince made me a present of all his wine and linen." "when the late mr. rothschild was alive, if business," says the author of "the city," "ever became flat and unprofitable in the stock exchange, the brokers and jobbers generally complained, and threw the blame upon this leviathan of the money market. whatever was wrong, was always alleged to be the effects of mr. rothschild's operations, and, according to the views of these parties, he was either bolstering up, or unnecessarily depressing prices for his own object. an anecdote is related of this great speculator, that hearing on one occasion that a broker had given very strong expression to his feelings in the open market on this subject, dealing out the most deadly anathemas against the jews, and consigning them to the most horrible torments, he sent the broker, through the medium of another party, an order to sell £ , consols, saying, 'as he always so abuses me, they will never suspect he is _bearing_ the market on my account.' mr. rothschild employed several brokers to do his business, and hence there was no ascertaining what in reality was the tendency of his operations. while perchance one broker was buying a certain quantity of stock on the order of his principal in the market, another at the same moment would be instructed to sell; so that it was only in the breast of the principal to know the probable result. it is said that mrs. rothschild tried her hand in speculating, and endeavoured by all her influence to get at the secret of her husband's dealings. she, however, failed, and was therefore not very successful in her ventures. long before mr. rothschild's death, it was prophesied by many of the brokers that, when the event occurred, the public would be less alarmed at the influence of the firm, and come forward more boldly to engage in stock business. they have, notwithstanding, been very much mistaken." the chronicler of the "stock exchange" says: "one cause of rothschild's success, was the secrecy with which he shrouded all his transactions, and the tortuous policy with which he misled those the most who watched him the keenest. if he possessed news calculated to make the funds rise, he would commission the broker who acted on his behalf to sell half a million. the shoal of men who usually follow the movements of others, sold with him. the news soon passed through capel court that rothschild was bearing the market, and the funds fell. men looked doubtingly at one another; a general panic spread; bad news was looked for; and these united agencies sunk the price two or three per cent. this was the result expected; other brokers, not usually employed by him, bought all they could at the reduced rate. by the time this was accomplished the good news had arrived; the pressure ceased, the funds arose instantly, and mr. rothschild reaped his reward." it sometimes happened that notwithstanding rothschild's profound secrecy, he was overcome by stratagem. the following circumstance, which was related to mr. margoliouth by a person who knew rothschild well, will illustrate the above statement. when the hebrew financier lived at stamford hill, there resided opposite to him another very wealthy dealer in the stock exchange, lucas by name. the latter returning home one night at a late hour from a convivial party, observed a carriage and four standing before rothschild's gate, upon which he ordered his own carriage out of the way, and commanded his coachman to await in readiness his return. lucas went stealthily and watched, unobserved, the movements at rothschild's gate. he did not lie long in ambush before he heard some one leaving the hebrew millionaire's mansion, and going towards the carriage. he saw rothschild, accompanied by two muffled figures, step into the carriage, and heard the word of command, "to the city." he followed rothschild's carriage very closely, but when he reached the top of the street in which rothschild's office was situated, lucas ordered his carriage to stop, from which he stepped out, and proceeded, reeling to and fro through the street, feigning to be mortally drunk. he made his way in the same mood as far as rothschild's office, and _sans ceremonie_ opened the door, to the great consternation and terror of the housekeeper, uttering sundry ejaculations in the broken accents of bacchus' votaries. heedless of the affrighted housekeeper's remonstrances, he opened rothschild's private office, in the same staggering attitude, and fell down flat on the floor. rothschild and his friends became very much alarmed. efforts were made to restore and remove the would-be drunkard, but lucas was too good an actor, and was therefore in such a fit as to be unable to be moved hither or thither. "should a physician be sent for?" asked rothschild. but the housekeeper threw some cold water into lucas's face, and the patient began to breathe a little more naturally, and fell into a sound snoring sleep. he was covered over, and rothschild and the strangers proceeded unsuspectingly to business. the strangers brought the good intelligence that the affairs in spain were all right, respecting which the members of the exchange were, for a few days previous, very apprehensive, and the funds were therefore in a rapidly sinking condition. the good news could not, however, in the common course of despatch, be publicly known for another day. rothschild therefore planned to order his brokers to buy up, cautiously, all the stock that should be in the market by twelve o'clock the following day. he sent for his principal broker thus early, in order to entrust him with the important instruction. the broker was rather tardier than rothschild's patience could brook; he therefore determined to go himself. as soon as rothschild was gone, lucas began to recover, and by degrees was able to get up, though distracted, as he said, "with a violent headache," and insisted, in spite of the housekeeper's expostulations, upon going home. but lucas went to his broker, and instructed him to buy up all the stock he could get by ten o'clock the following morning. about eleven o'clock lucas met rothschild, and inquired satirically how he, rothschild, was off for stock. lucas won the day, and rothschild is said never to have forgiven "the base, dishonest, and nefarious stratagem." yet, with all his hoardings, says mr. margoliouth, rothschild was by no means a happy man. dangers and assassinations seemed to haunt his imagination by day and by night, and not without grounds. many a time, as he himself said, just before he sat down to dinner, a note would be put into his hand, running thus:--"if you do not send me immediately the sum of five hundred pounds, i will blow your brains out." he affected to despise such threats; they, nevertheless, exercised a direful effect upon the millionaire. he loaded his pistols every night before he went to bed, and put them beside him. he did not think himself more secure in his country house than he did in his bed. one day, while busily engaged in his golden occupation, two foreign gentlemen were announced as desirous to see baron rothschild _in propriâ personâ_. the strangers had not the foresight to have the letters of introduction in readiness. they stood, therefore, before the baron in the ludicrous attitude of having their eyes fixed upon the hebrew croesus, and with their hands rummaging in large european coat-pockets. the fervid and excited imagination of the baron conjured up a multitudinous array of conspiracies. fancy eclipsed his reason, and, in a fit of excitement, he seized a huge ledger, which he aimed and hurled at the mustachioed strangers, calling out, at the same time, for additional physical force. the astonished italians, however, were not long, after that, in finding the important documents they looked for, which explained all. the baron begged the strangers' pardon for the unintentional insult, and was heard to articulate to himself, "poor unhappy me! a victim to nervousness and fancy's terrors! and all because of my money!" rothschild's mode of doing business when engaging in large transactions (says mr. grant) was this. supposing he possessed exclusively, which he often did, a day or two before it could be generally known, intelligence of some event, which had occurred in any part of the continent, sufficiently important to cause a rise in the french funds, and through them on the english funds, he would empower the brokers he usually employed to sell out stock, say to the amount of £ , . the news spread in a moment that rothschild was selling out, and a general alarm followed. every one apprehended that he had received intelligence from some foreign part of some important event which would produce a fall in prices. as might, under such circumstances, be expected, all became sellers at once. this, of necessity, caused the funds, to use stock exchange phraseology, "to tumble down at a fearful rate." next day, when they had fallen, perhaps, one or two per cent., he would make purchases, say to the amount of £ , , , taking care, however, to employ a number of brokers whom he was not in the habit of employing, and commissioning each to purchase to a certain extent, and giving all of them strict orders to preserve secrecy in the matter. each of the persons so employed was, by this means, ignorant of the commission given to the others. had it been known the purchases were made by him, there would have been as great and sudden a rise in the prices as there had been in the fall, so that he could not purchase to the intended extent on such advantageous terms. on the third day, perhaps, the intelligence which had been expected by the jobbers to be unfavourable arrived, and, instead of being so, turned out to be highly favourable. prices instantaneously rise again, and possibly they may get one and a-half or even two per cent. higher than they were when he sold out his £ , . he now sells out, at the advanced price, the entire £ , , he had purchased at the reduced prices. the gains by such extensive transactions, when so skilfully managed, will be at once seen to be enormous. by the supposed transaction, assuming the rise to be two per cent., the gain would be £ , . but this is not the greatest gain which the late leviathian of modern capitalists made by such transactions. he, on more than one occasion, made upwards of £ , on one account. but though no person during the last twelve or fifteen years of rothschild's life (says grant) was ever able, for any length of time, to compete with him in the money market, he on several occasions was, in single transactions, outwitted by the superior tactics of others. the gentleman to whom i allude was then and is now the head of one of the largest private banking establishments in town. abraham montefiore, rothschild's brother-in-law, was the principal broker to the great capitalist, and in that capacity was commissioned by the latter to negotiate with mr. ---- a loan of £ , , . the security offered by rothschild was a proportionate amount of stock in consols, which were at that time . this stock was, of course, to be transferred to the name of the party advancing the money, rothschild's object being to raise the price of consols by carrying so large a quantity out of the market. the money was lent, and the conditions of the loan were these--that the interest on the sum advanced should be at the rate of - / per cent., and that if the price of consols should chance to go down to , mr. ---- should have the right of claiming the stock at . the jew, no doubt, laughed at what he conceived his own commercial dexterity in the transaction; but, ere long, he had abundant reason to laugh on the wrong side of his mouth; for, no sooner was the stock poured into the hand of the banker, than the latter sold it, along with an immensely large sum which had been previously standing in his name, amounting altogether to little short of £ , , . but even this was not all. mr. ---- also held powers of attorney from several of the leading scotch and english banks, as well as from various private individuals, who had large property in the funds, to sell stock on their account. on these powers of attorney he acted, and at the same time advised his friends to follow his example. they at once did so, and the consequence was that the aggregate amount of stock sold by himself and his friends conjointly exceeded £ , , . so unusual an extent of sales, all effected in the shortest possible time, necessarily drove down the prices. in an incredibly short time they fell to ; immediately on which, mr. ---- claimed of rothschild his stock at . the jew could not refuse: it was in the bond. this climax being reached, the banker bought in again all the stock he had previously sold out, and advised his friends to re-purchase also. they did so; and the result was, that in a few weeks consols reached again, their original price, and from that to . rothschild's losses were very great by this transaction; but they were by no means equal to the banker's gains, which could not have been less than £ , or £ , . the following grotesque sketch of the great rothschild is from the pen of a clever anonymous writer:--"the thing before you," says the author quoted, "stands cold, motionless, and apparently speculationless, as the pillar of salt into which the avaricious spouse of the patriarch was turned; and while you start with wonder at what it can be or mean, you pursue the association, and think upon the fire and brimstone that were rained down. it is a human being of no very apollo-like form or face: short, squat, with its shoulders drawn up to its ears, and its hands delved into its breeches'-pockets. the hue of its face is a mixture of brick-dust and saffron; and the texture seems that of the skin of a dead frog. there is a rigidity and tension in the features, too, which would make you fancy, if you did not see that that were not the fact, that some one from behind was pinching it with a pair of hot tongs, and that it were either afraid or ashamed to tell. eyes are usually denominated the windows of the soul; but here you would conclude that the windows are false ones, or that there is no soul to look out at them. there comes not one pencil of light from the interior, neither is there one scintillation of that which comes from without reflected in any direction. the whole puts you in mind of 'a skin to let;' and you wonder why it stands upright without at least something within. by-and-by another figure comes up to it. it then steps two paces aside, and the most inquisitive glance that ever you saw, and a glance more inquisitive than you would ever have thought of, is drawn out of the erewhile fixed and leaden eye, as if one were drawing a sword from a scabbard. the visiting figure, which has the appearance of coming by accident, and not by design, stops but a second or two, in the course of which looks are exchanged which, though you cannot translate, you feel must be of most important meaning. after these, the eyes are sheathed up again, and the figure resumes its stony posture. during the morning numbers of visitors come, all of whom meet with a similar reception, and vanish in a similar manner; and last of all the figure itself vanishes, leaving you utterly at a loss as to what can be its nature and functions." abraham goldsmid, a liberal and honourable man, who almost rivalled rothschild as a speculator, was ruined at last by a conspiracy. goldsmid, in conjunction with a banking establishment, had taken a large government loan. the leaguers contrived to produce from the collectors and receivers of the revenue so large an amount of floating securities--exchequer bills and india bonds--that the omnium fell to discount. the result was goldsmid's failure, and eventually his suicide. the conspirators purchased omnium when at its greatest discount, and on the following day it went up to premium, being then a profit of about £ , , . goldsmid seems to have been a kind-hearted man, not so wholly absorbed in speculation and self as some of the more greedy and vulgar members of the stock exchange. one day mr. goldsmid observed his favourite waiter at the city of london tavern very melancholy and abstracted. on being pressed, john confessed that he had just been arrested for a debt of £ , and that he was thinking over the misery of his wife and five children. goldsmid instantly drew out his chequebook, and wrote a cheque for £ , the sight of which gladdened poor john's heart and brought tears into his eyes. on one occasion, after a carriage accident in somersetshire, goldsmid was carried to the house of a poor curate, and there attended for a fortnight with unremitting kindness. six weeks after the millionaire's departure a letter came from goldsmid to the curate, saying that, having contracted for a large government loan, he (the writer) had put down the curate's name for £ , omnium. the poor curate, supposing some great outlay was expected from him for this share in the loan, wrote back to say that he had not £ , , or even £ , in the world. by the next post came a letter enclosing the curate £ , , the profit on selling out the £ , omnium, the premium having risen since the curate's name had been put down. the vicissitudes of the stock exchange are like those of the gambling-table. a story is related specially illustrative of the rapid fortunes made in the old war-time, when the funds ran up and down every time napoleon mounted his horse. mr. f., afterwards proprietor of one of the largest estates in the county of middlesex, had lost a fortune on the stock exchange, and had, in due course, been ruthlessly gibbeted on the cruel black board. in a frenzy, as he passed london bridge, contemplating suicide, f. threw the last shilling he had in the world over the parapet into the water. just at that moment some one seized him by the hand. it was a french ensign. he was full of a great battle that had been fought (waterloo), which had just annihilated bonaparte, and would restore the bourbons. the french ambassador had told him only an hour before. a gleam of hope, turning the black board white, arose before the miserable man. he hurried off to a firm on the stock exchange, and offered most important news on condition that he should receive half of whatever profits they might realise by the operation. he told them of waterloo. they rushed into the market, and purchased consols to a large amount. in the meantime f., sharpened by misfortune, instantly proceeded to another firm, and made a second offer, which was also accepted. there were two partners, and the keenest of them whispered the other not to let f. out of his sight, while he sent brokers to purchase consols. he might tell some one else. lunch was then brought in, and the key turned on them. presently the partner returned, red and seething, from the stock exchange. most unaccountably consols had gone up per cent., and he was afraid to purchase. but f. urged the importance of the victory, and declared the funds would soon rise or per cent. the partners, persuaded, made immense purchases. the day the news of waterloo arrived the funds rose per cent., the greatest rise they were ever known to experience; and f.'s share of the profits from the two houses in one day exceeded £ , . he returned next day to the stock exchange, and soon, amassed a large fortune; he then wisely purchased an estate, and left the funds alone for ever. some terrible failures occurred in the stock exchange during the spanish panic of . a few facts connected with this disastrous time will serve excellently to illustrate the effects of such reactions among the speculators in stocks. a decline of or per cent. in the peninsular securities within a week or ten days ruined many of the members. they, like card houses in a puff of wind, brought down others; so that in one short month the greater part of the stock exchange had fallen into difficulties. the failure of principals out of doors, who had large differences to pay, caused much of this trouble to the brokers. men with limited means had plunged into what they considered a certain speculation, and when pay-day arrived and the account was against them, they were obliged to confess their inability to scrape together the required funds. for instance, at the time zumalacarregui was expected to die, a principal, a person who could not command more than £ , , "stood," as the stock exchange phrase runs, to make a "pot of money" by the event. he speculated heavily, and had the spanish partisan general good-naturedly died during the account, the commercial gambler would have certainly netted nearly £ , . the general, however, obstinately delayed his death till the next week, and by that time the speculator was ruined, and all he had sold. many of the dishonest speculators whose names figured on the black board in had been "bulls" of spanish stock. when the market gave way and prices fell, the principals attempted to put off the evil day, says a writer of the period, by "carrying over instead of closing their accounts." the weather, however, grew only the more stormy, and at last, when payment could no longer be evaded, they coolly turned round, and with brazen faces refused, although some of them were able to adjust the balances which their luckless brokers exhibited against them. now a broker is obliged either to make good his principal's losses from his own pocket, or be declared a defaulter and expelled the stock exchange. this rule often presses heavily, says an authority on the subject, on honest but not over-opulent brokers, who transact business for other persons, and become liable if they turn out either insolvent or rogues. brokers are in most cases careful in the choice of principals if they speculate largely, and often adopt the prudent and very justifiable plan of having a certain amount of stock deposited in their "strong box" as security before any important business is undertaken. every principal who dabbles in rickety stock without a certain reserve as a security is set down by most men as little better than a swindler. during the rumours of war which prevailed in october, , shortly before the fall of the thiers administration in france, the fluctuations in consols were as much as per cent. the result was great ruin to speculators. the speculators for the rise--the "bulls," in fact--of £ , consols sustained a loss of from £ , to £ , , for which more than one broker found it necessary, for sustaining his credit, to pay. the railway mania produced many changes in the stock exchange. the share market, which previously had been occupied by only four or five brokers and a number of small jobbers, now became a focus of vast business. certain brokers, it is said, made £ , or £ , a day by their business. one fortunate man outside the house, who held largely of churnett valley scrip before the sanction of the board of trade was procured, sold at the best price directly the announcement was made, and netted by that _coup_ £ , . the "alley men" wrote letters for shares, and when the allotments were obtained made some s. on each share. some of these "dabblers" are known to have made only fifty farthings of fifty shares of a railway now the first in the kingdom. the sellers of letters used to meet in the royal exchange before business hours, till the beadle had at last to drive them away to make room for the merchants. there is a story told of an "alley man" during the mania contriving to sell some rotten shares by bowing to sir isaac goldsmid in the presence of his victim. sir isaac returned the bow, and the victim at once believed in the respectability of the gay deceiver. with the single exception of mr. david ricardo, the celebrated political economist, says mr. grant, there are few names of any literary distinction connected with the stock exchange. mr. ricardo is said to have amassed his immense fortune by a scrupulous attention to his own golden rules:-- "never refuse an option when you can get it; cut short your losses; let your profits run on." by the second rule, which, like the rest, is strictly technical, mr. ricardo meant that purchasers of stock ought to re-sell immediately prices fell. by the third he meant that when a person held stock and prices were rising, he ought not to sell until prices had reached their highest, and were beginning to fall. [illustration: on change. (_from an old print, about . the figures by rowlandson; architecture by nash._)] gentlemen of the stock exchange are rough with intruders. a few years since, says a writer in the _city press_, an excellent clergyman of my acquaintance, who had not quite mastered the christian philosophy of turning the right cheek to those who smote the left, had business in the city, and being anxious to see his broker, strayed into the stock exchange, in utter ignorance of the great liberty he was committing. instantly known as an interloper, he was surrounded and hustled by some dozen of the members. "what did he want?" "how dared he to intrude there?" "i wish to speak with a member, mr. a----, and was not aware it was against the rules to enter the building." "then we'll make you aware for the future," said a coarse but iron-fisted jobber, prepared to suit the action to the word. my friend disengaged himself as far as possible, and speaking in a calm but authoritative tone, said, "sirs, i am quite sure you do not mean to insult, in my person, a minister of the church of england; but take notice, the first man who dares to molest me shall feel the weight of my fist, which is not a light one. stand by, and let me leave this inhospitable place." they did stand by, and he rushed into the street without sustaining any actual violence. practical joking, says an _habitué_, relieves the excitement of this feverish gambling. the stockbrokers indulge in practical jokes which would be hardly excusable in a schoolboy. no member can wear a new hat in the arena of bulls and bears without being tormented, and his chapeau irrecoverably spoiled. a new coat cannot be worn without peril; it is almost certain to be ticketed "moses and son--dear at s. d." the pounce-box is a formidable missile, and frequently nearly blinds the unwary. as p. passes k.'s desk, the latter slily extends his foot in order to trip him up; and when k. rises from his stool, he finds his coat-tail pinned to the cushion, and is likely to lose a portion of it before he is extricated. yet these men are capable of extreme liberality. some years ago knocking off hats and chalking one another's backs was a favourite amusement on the stock exchange, as a vent for surplus excitement, and on the th of november a cart-load of crackers was let off during the day, to the destruction of coats. the cry when a stranger is detected is "fourteen hundred," and the usual test question is, "will you purchase any new navy five per cents., sir?" the moment after a rough hand drives the novice's hat over his nose, and he is spun from one to another; his coat-tails are often torn off, and he is then jostled into the street. there have been cases, however, where the jobbers have caught a tartar, who, after half-strangling one and knocking down two or three more, has fairly fought his way out, pretty well unscathed, all but his hat. the amount of business done at the stock exchange in a day is enormous. in a few hours property, including time bargains, to the amount of £ , , , has changed hands. rothschild is known in one day to have made purchases to the extent of £ , , . this great speculator never appeared on the stock exchange himself, and on special occasions he always employed a new set of brokers to buy or sell. the boldest attempt ever made to overthrow the power of rothschild in the money market was that made by a mr. h. he was the son of a wealthy country banker, with money-stock in his own name, though it was really his father's, to the extent of £ , . he began by buying, as openly as possible, and selling out again to a very large amount in a very short period of time. about this time consols were as high as or , and there were signs of a coming panic. mr. h. determined to depress the market, and carry on war against rothschild, the leader of the "bulls." he now struck out a bold game. he bought £ , in consols at , and at once offered any part of £ , at , and at once found purchasers. he then offered more at , , and eventually as low as . the next day he brought them down to ; a run on the bank of england began, which almost exhausted it of its specie. he then purchased to a large extent, so that when the reaction took place, the daring adventurer found his gains had exceeded £ , . two years after he had another "operation," but rothschild, guessing his plan, laid a trap, into which he fell, and the day after his name was up on the black board. it was then discovered that the original £ , money-stock had been in reality his father's. a deputation from the committee waited upon mr. h. immediately after his failure, and quietly suggested to him an immediate sale of his furniture and the mortgage of an annuity settled on his wife. he, furious at this, rang the bell for his footman, and ordered him to show the deputation down stairs. he swore at the treatment that he had received, and said, "as for you, you vagabond, 'my son jack' (the nickname of the spokesman), who has had the audacity to make me such a proposal, if you don't hurry down stairs i'll pitch you out of window." nicknames are of frequent occurrence on the stock exchange. "my son jack" we have just mentioned. another was known as "the lady's broker," in consequence of being employed in an unfortunate speculation by a lady who had ventured without the knowledge of her husband. the husband refused to pay a farthing, and the broker, to save himself from the black board, divulged the name of the lady who was unable to meet her obligations. it is a fact not generally known, says a writer on the subject, that by one of the regulations of the stock exchange, any person purchasing stock in the funds, or any of the public companies, has a right to demand of the seller as many transfers as there are even thousand pounds in the amount bought. suppose, for instance, that any person were to purchase £ , stock, then, instead of having the whole made over to him by one ticket of transfer, he has a right to demand, if he so pleases, ten separate transfers from the party or parties of whom he purchased. the descriptions of english stock which are least generally understood are scrip and omnium. scrip means the receipt for any instalment or instalments which may have been paid on any given amount which has been purchased on any government loan. this receipt, or scrip, is marketable, the party purchasing it, either at a premium or discount, as the case chances to be, becoming of course bound to pay up the remainder of the instalments, on pain of forfeiting the money he has given for it. omnium means the various kinds of stock in which a loan is absorbed, or, to make the thing still more intelligible, a person purchasing a certain quantity of omnium, purchases given proportions of the various descriptions of government securities. bargains made one day are always checked the following day, by the parties themselves or their clerks. this is done by calling over their respective books one against another. in most transactions what is called an option is given, by mutual consent, to each party. this is often of great importance to the speculator. it is said that the business at the stock exchange is illegal, since an unrepealed act of parliament exists which directs all buying and selling of bank securities shall take place in the rotunda of the bank. there are about , members of the stock exchange, who pay twelve guineas a year each. the election of members is always by ballot, and every applicant must be recommended by three persons, who have been members of the house for at least two years. each recommender must engage to pay the sum of £ to the candidate's creditors in case any such candidate should become a defaulter, either in the stock exchange or the foreign stock market, within two years from the date of his admission. a foreigner must have been resident in the united kingdom for five years previous, unless he is recommended by five members of the stock exchange, each of whom becomes security for £ . the candidate must not enter into partnership with any of his recommenders for two years after his admission, unless additional security be provided, and one partner cannot recommend another. bill and discount brokers are excluded from the stock exchange, says the same writer, and no applicant's wife can be engaged in any sort of business. no applicant who has been a bankrupt is eligible until two years after he has obtained his certificate, or fulfilled the conditions of his deed of composition, or unless he has paid s. d. in the pound. no one who has been twice bankrupt is eligible unless on the same very improbable condition. if a member makes any bargains before or after the regular business hours--ten to four--the bargain is not recognised by the committee. no bonds can be returned as imperfect after three days' detention. if a member comes to private terms with his creditors, he is put upon the black board of the exchange as a defaulter, and expelled. a further failure can be condoned for, after six months' exile, provided the member pays at least one-third of any loss that may have occurred on his speculations. for dishonourable conduct the committee can also chalk up a member's name. it is said that a member of the stock exchange who fails and gives up his last farthing to his creditors is never thought as well of as the man who takes care to keep a reserve, in order to step back again into business. for instance, a stockbroker once lost on one account £ , , and paid the whole without a murmur. being, however, what is called on the stock exchange "a little man," he never again recovered his credit, it being suspected that his back was irretrievably broken. but a still more striking and very interesting illustration of the estimation in which sterling integrity is held among a large proportion of the members was afforded (says mr. grant) in the case of the late mr. l.a. de la chaumette, a gentleman of foreign extraction. he had previously been in the manchester trade, but had been unfortunate. being a man much respected, and extensively known, his friends advised him to go on the stock exchange. he adopted their advice, and became a member. he at once established an excellent business as a broker. not only did he make large sums, in the shape of commissions on the transactions in which he was employed by others, but one of the largest mercantile houses in london, having the highest possible opinion of his judgment and integrity, entrusted him with the sole disposal of an immense sum of money belonging to the french refugees, which was in their hands at the time. he contrived to employ this money so advantageously, both to his constituents and himself, that he acquired a handsome fortune. before he had been a member three years, he invited his creditors to dine with him on a particular day at the london tavern, but concealed from them the particular object he had in view in so doing. on entering the room, they severally found their own names on the different plates, which were reversed, and on turning them up, each found a cheque for the amount due to him, with interest. the entire sum which mr. l.a. de la chaumette paid away on this occasion, and in this manner, was upwards of £ , . next day, he went into the house as usual, and such was the feeling entertained of his conduct, that many members refused to do a bargain with him to the extent of a single thousand. they looked on his payment of the claims of his former creditors as a foolish affair, and fancied that he might have exhausted his resources, never dreaming that, even if he had, a man of such honourable feeling and upright principle was worthy of credit to any amount. he eventually died worth upwards of £ , . the locality of the stock exchange (says the author of "the great babylon," probably the rev. dr. croly) is well chosen, being at a point where intelligence from the bank of england, the royal exchange, and the different coffee-houses where private letters from abroad are received, may be obtained in a few minutes, and thus "news from all nations" may be very speedily manufactured with an air of authenticity. one wide portal gapes toward the bank, in bartholomew lane; and there is a sally-port into threadneedle street, for those who do not wish to be seen entering or emerging the other way. from the dull and dingy aspect of these approaches, which, it seems, cannot be whitened, one could form no guess at the mighty deeds of the place; and when the hourly quotations of the price of stocks are the same, the place is silent, and only a few individuals, with faces which grin but cannot smile, are seen crawling in and out, or standing yawning in the court, with their hands in their breeches' pockets. if, however, the quotations fluctuate, and the royal exchange, where most of the leading men of the money market lounge, be full of bustling and rumours, and especially if characters, with eyes like basilisks, and faces lined and surfaced like an asparagus bed ere the plants come up, be ever and anon darting in at the north door of the royal exchange, bounding toward the chief priests of mammon, like pith balls to the conductor of an electric machine, and, when they have "got their charge," bounding away again, then you may be sure that the stock exchange is worth seeing, if it could be seen with comfort, or even with safety. at those times, however, a stranger might as well jump into a den of lions, or throw himself into the midst of a herd of famishing wolves. among the various plans adopted for securing early intelligence for stock exchange purposes before the invention of the telegraph, none proved more successful than that of "pigeon expresses." till about the beginning of the century the ordinary courier brought the news from the continent; and it was only the rothschilds, and one or two other important firms, that "ran" intelligence, in anticipation of the regular french mail. however, many years ago, the project was conceived of establishing a communication between london and paris by means of pigeons, and in the course of two years it was in complete operation. the training of the birds took considerable time before they could be relied on; and the relays and organisation required to perfect the scheme not only involved a vast expenditure of time, but also of money. in the first place, to make the communication of use on both sides of the channel, it was necessary to get two distinct establishments for the flight of the pigeons--one in england and another in france. it was then necessary that persons in whom reliance could be placed should be stationed in the two capitals, to be in readiness to receive or dispatch the birds that might bring or carry the intelligence, and make it available for the parties interested. hence it became almost evident that one speculator, without he was a very wealthy man, could not hope to support a pigeon "express." the consequence was, that, the project being mooted, two or three of the speculators, including brokers of the house, themselves joined, and worked it for their own benefit. through this medium several of the dealers rapidly made large sums of money; but the trade became less profitable, because the success of the first operators induced others to follow the example of establishing this species of communication. the cost of keeping a "pigeon express" has been estimated at £ or £ a year; but whether this amount was magnified, with the view of deterring others from venturing into the speculation, is a question which never seems to have been properly explained. it is stated that the daily papers availed themselves of the news brought by these "expresses;" but, in consideration of allowing the speculators to read the despatches first, the proprietors, it is said, bore but a minimum proportion of the expense. the birds generally used were of the antwerp breed, strong in the wing, and fully feathered. the months in which they were chiefly worked were the latter end of may, june, july, august, and the beginning of september; and, though the news might not be always of importance, a communication was generally kept up daily between london and paris in this manner. in - - , and , a great deal of money was made by the "pigeon men," as the speculators supposed to have possession of such intelligence were familiarly termed; and their appearance in the market was always indicative of a rise or fall, according to the tendency of their operations. having the first chance of buying or selling, they, of course, had the market for a while in their own hands; but as time progressed, and it was found that the papers, by their "second editions," would communicate the news, the general brokers refused to do business till the papers reached the city. the pigeons bringing the news occasionally got shot on their passage; but, as a flock of some eight or a dozen were usually started at a time, miscarriage was not of frequent occurrence. at the time of the death of mr. rothschild, one was caught at brighton, having been disabled by a gun-shot wound, and beneath the shoulder-feathers of the left wing was discovered a small note, with the words "il est mort," followed by a number of hieroglyphics. each pigeon had a method of communication entirely their own; and the conductors, if they fancied the key to it was in another person's power, immediately varied it. a case of this description occurred worth noting. the parties interested in the scheme fancied that, however soon they received intelligence, there were others in the market who were quite equal with them. in order to arrive at the real state of affairs, the chief proprietor consented, at the advice of a friend, to pay £ for the early perusal of a supposed rival's "pigeon express." the "express" came to hand, he read it, and was not a little surprised to find that he was in reality paying for the perusal of his own news! the truth soon came out. somebody had bribed the keepers of his pigeons, who were thus not only making a profit by the sale of his intelligence, but also on the speculations they in consequence conducted. the defect was soon remedied by changing the style of characters employed, and all went right as before. when a defalcation takes place in the stock exchange (says a city writer of ), the course pursued is as follows:--at the commencement of the "settling day," should a broker or jobber--the one through the default of his principals, and the other in consequence of unsuccessful speculations--find a heavy balance on the wrong side of his accounts, which he is unfortunately unable to settle, and should an attempt to get the assistance from friends prove unavailing, he must fail. excluded from the house, the scene of his past labours and speculations, he dispatches a short but unimportant communication to the committee of the stock exchange. the other members of the institution being all assembled in the market, busied in arranging and settling their accounts, some of them, interested parties, become nervous and fidgety at the non-appearance of mr. ---- (the defaulter in question). the doubt is soon explained, for the porter stationed at the door suddenly gives three loud and distinctly repeated knocks with a mallet, and announces that mr. ---- presents his respects to the house, and regrets to state that he is unable to comply with his "bargains"--_anglicè_, to fulfil his engagements. visit bartholomew lane at any time of the year, says a city writer, and you will be sure to find several people of shabby exterior holding converse at the entrance of capel court, or on the steps of the auction mart. these are the "alley men." you will see one, perhaps, take from his pocket a good-sized parcel of dirty-backed letters, all arranged, and tied round with string or red tape, which he sorts with as much care and attention as if they were bank-notes. that parcel is his stock-in-trade. perhaps those letters may contain the allotment of shares in various companies, to an amount, if the capital subscribed was paid, of many hundreds of thousands of pounds. to describe fairly the "alley man," we must take him from the first of his career. he is generally some broken-down clerk or tradesman, who, having lost every prospect of life, chooses this description of business as a _dernier ressort_. first started in his calling, he associates with the loiterers at the stock exchange, where, by mixing with them, and perhaps making the acquaintance through the introduction of sir john barleycorn, at the tap of a tavern, he is initiated by degrees into the secrets of the business, and, perhaps, before long, becomes as great an adept in the sale or purchase of letters as the oldest man on the walk. when he has acquired the necessary information respecting dealing, he can commence letter-writing for shares. this is effected at the expense of a penny only for postage, pen and ink being always attainable, either in the tavern-parlour or coffee-house he frequents. when a new company comes out, and is advertised, he immediately calls for a form of application, fills it up, and dispatches it, with the moderate request to be allotted one hundred or two hundred shares, the amount of call or share being quite immaterial to him, as he never intends to pay upon or keep them, his only aim being to increase his available stock of letters, so that he can make a "deal," and pocket the profit, should they have a price among the fraternity. [illustration: inner court of the first royal exchange (_see page _).] the purchase of stock is thus described by an _habitué_. "suppose i went," he says, "to buy £ stock in the four per cents. i soon know whether the funds are better, or worse, or steady; for this is the language of the place. if they are _better_, they are on the rise from the preceding day; if _worse_, they are lower than on that day; if _steady_, they have not fluctuated at all, or very little. to render the matter as intelligible as possible, we will suppose the price to be - / , that is, £ s. d. sterling for £ stock. upon my asking the price of the four per cents., the answer probably is, "buyers at an eighth, and sellers at a quarter;" that is, the jobbers who either buy or sell will have the _turn_, or / . now if i leave the purchase to a broker, he probably gives, without the least hesitation, - / , because he may have a friendly turn to make to his brother broker, for a similar act of kindness the preceding day. well, but i do _not_ leave the purchase to a broker; i manage it myself. i direct my broker to buy me £ stock at - / . he takes my name, profession, and place of residence; he then makes a purchase, and the seller of the stock transfers it to me, my heirs, assigns, &c., and makes his signature. on the same leaf of the same book in which the _transfer_ is made to me, there is a form of acceptance of the stock transferred to me, and to which i also put my signature; the clerk then witnesses the receipt, and the whole business is done. the seller of the stock gives me the receipt, with his signature to it, which i may keep till i receive a dividend, when it is no longer any use. the payment of the dividend is an acknowledgment of my right to the stock; and therefore the receipt then becomes useless." [illustration: sir thomas gresham.] the usual commission charged by a broker is one-eighth ( s. d.) per cent. upon the stock sold or purchased; although of late years the charge has often been reduced fifty per cent., especially in speculators' charges, a reduction ascribed to the influx into the market of a body of brokers who will "do business" almost for nothing, provided they can procure customers. the broker deals with the "jobbers," a class of members, or "middle-men," who remain stationary in the stock market, ready to act upon the orders received from brokers. there is, moreover, a fund subscribed by the members for their decayed associates, the invested capital of which, exclusive of annual contributions, amounts to upwards of £ , . the stock exchange has numbered amongst its subscribers some valuable members of society, including david ricardo and several of his descendants, francis baily the astronomer, and many others, down to charles stokes, f.r.s., not long ago deceased. horace smith and the author of the "last of the plantagenets"--himself in his prosperity a munificent patron of literature--also for a long time enlivened its precincts. the writer of the successful play of "the templar," and other elegant productions, was one of the body. the managers, in , expended about £ , in securing additional space for the stock exchange prior to the commencement of the works, and the contract was taken at £ , , some subsequent alterations respecting ventilation having caused the amount to be already exceeded. the fabric belongs to a private company, consisting of shareholders, and the shares were originally of £ each, but are now of uncertain amount, the last addition being a call of £ per share, made for the construction of the new edifice. the affairs of this company are conducted under a cumbersome and restrictive deed of settlement, by nine "managers," elected for life by the shareholders, no election taking place till there are four vacancies. the members or subscribers, however, entirely conduct their own affairs by a committee of thirty of their own body. neither members nor committee are elected for more than one year. the number of members at present exceeds , . the subscription is paid to the "managers," who liquidate all expenses, and adopt alterations in the building, upon the representations of the committee of the members, or even on the application of the subscribers. of the shares mentioned above, the whole, with scarcely an exception, are held by the members themselves. no one person is allowed to hold, directly or indirectly, more than four. the present building stands in the centre of the block of buildings fronting bartholomew lane, threadneedle street, old broad street, and throgmorton street. the principal entrance is from bartholomew lane through capel court. there are also three entrances from throgmorton street, and one from threadneedle street. the area of the new house is about square yards, and it would contain , or , members. there are, however, seldom more than half that number present. the site is very irregular, and has enforced some peculiar construction in covering it, into which iron enters largely. chapter xlii. the royal exchange. the greshams--important negotiations--building of the old exchange--queen elizabeth visits it--its milliners' shops--a resort for idlers--access of nuisances--the various walks in the exchange--shakespeare's visits to it--precautions against fire--lady gresham and the council--the "eye of london"--contemporary allusions--the royal exchange during the plague and the great fire--wren's design for a new royal exchange--the plan which was ultimately accepted--addison and steele upon the exchange--the shops of the second exchange. in the year sir thomas gresham, a munificent merchant of lombard street, who traded largely with antwerp, carrying out a scheme of his father, offered the city to erect a bourse at his own expense, if they would provide a suitable plot of ground; the great merchant's local pride having been hurt at seeing antwerp provided with a stately exchange, and london without one. a short sketch of the gresham family is here necessary, to enable us to understand the antecedents of this great benefactor of london. the family derived its name from gresham, a little village in norfolk; and one of the early greshams appears to have been clerk to sir william paston, a judge. the family afterwards removed to holt, near the sea. john gresham married an heiress, by whom he had four sons, william, thomas, richard, and john. thomas became chancellor of lichfield, the other three brothers turned merchants, and two of them were knighted by henry viii. sir richard, the father of sir thomas gresham, was an eminent london merchant, elected lord mayor in . being a trusty foreign agent of henry vii., and a friend of cromwell and wolsey, he received from the king five several gifts of church lands. sir richard died at bethnal green, - . he was buried in the church of st. lawrence jewry. thomas gresham was sent to gonville college, cambridge, and apprenticed probably before that to his uncle sir john, a levant merchant, for eight years. in we find the young merchant applying to margaret, regent of the low countries, for leave to export gunpowder to england for king henry, who was then preparing for his attack on france, and the siege of boulogne. in gresham married the daughter of a suffolk gentleman, and the widow of a london mercer. by her he had several children, none of whom, however, reached maturity. it was in or that gresham's real fortune commenced, by his appointment as king's merchant factor, or agent, at antwerp, to raise private loans from german and low country merchants to meet the royal necessities, and to keep the privy council informed in the local news. the wise factor borrowed in his own name, and soon raised the exchange from s. flemish for the pound sterling to s., at which rate he discharged all the king's debts, and made money plentiful. he says, in a letter to the duke of northumberland, that he hoped in one year to save england £ , . it being forbidden to export further from antwerp, gresham had to resort to various stratagems, and in (queen mary) we find him writing to the privy council, proposing to send £ (in heavy spanish rials), in bags of pepper, four at a time, and the english ambassador at brussels was to bring over with him £ , or £ , , but he afterwards changed his mind, and sent the money packed up in bales with suits of armour and £ , in each, rewarding the searcher at gravelines with new year presents of black velvet and black cloth. about the time of the queen's marriage to philip gresham went to spain, to start from puerto real fifty cases, each containing , spanish ducats. all the time gresham resided at antwerp, carrying out these sagacious and important negociations, he was rewarded with the paltry remuneration of £ a day, of which we often find him seriously complaining. it was in antwerp, that vast centre of commerce, that gresham must have gained that great knowledge of business by which he afterwards enriched himself. antwerp exported to england at this time, says mr. burgon, in his excellent life of gresham, almost every article of luxury required by english people. later in queen mary's reign gresham was frequently displaced by rivals. he made trips to england, sharing largely in the dealings of the mercers' company, of which he was a member, and shipping vast quantities of cloth to sell to the italian merchants at antwerp, in exchange for silks. a few years later the mercers are described as sending forth, twice a year, a fleet of or ships, laden with cloth, for the low countries. gresham is mentioned, in , as presenting queen mary, as a new year's gift, with "a bolt of fine holland," receiving in return a gilt jug, weighing - / ounces. that the queen considered gresham a faithful and useful servant there can be no doubt, for she gave him, at different times, a priory, a rectory, and several manors and advowsons. gresham, like a prudent courtier, seems to have been one of the first persons of celebrity who visited queen elizabeth on her accession. she gave the wise merchant her hand to kiss, and told him that she would always keep one ear ready to hear him; "which," says gresham, "made me a young man again, and caused me to enter on my present charge with heart and courage." the young queen also promised him on her faith that if he served her as well as he had done her brother edward, and queen mary, her sister, she would give him as much land as ever they both had. this gracious promise gresham reminded the queen of years after, when he had to complain to his friend cecil that the marquis of winchester had tried to injure him with the queen. gresham soon resumed his visits to flanders, to procure money, and send over powder, armour, and weapons. he was present at the funeral of charles v., seems to have foreseen the coming troubles in the low countries, and commented on the rash courage of count egmont. the death of gresham's only son richard, in the year , was the cause, mr. burgon thinks, of gresham's determining to devote his money to the benefit of his fellow-citizens. lombard street had long become too small for the business of london. men of business were exposed there to all weathers, and had to crowd into small shops, or jostle under the pent-houses. as early as or the citizens had deliberated in common council on the necessity of a new place of resort, and leadenhall street had been proposed. in the year certain houses in cornhill, in the ward of broad street, and three alleys--swan alley, cornhill; new alley, cornhill, near st. bartholomew's lane; and st. christopher's alley, comprising in all fourscore householders--were purchased for £ , s. d., and the materials sold for £ . the amount was subscribed for in small sums by about citizens, the ironmongers' company giving £ . the first brick was laid by sir thomas, june , . a flemish architect superintended the sawing of the timber, at gresham's estate at ringshall, near ipswich, and on battisford tye (common) traces of the old sawpits can still be seen. the slates were bought at dort, the wainscoting and glass at amsterdam, and other materials in flanders. the building, pushed on too fast for final solidity, was slated in by november, , and shortly after finished. the bourse, when erected, was thought to resemble that of antwerp, but there is also reason to believe that gresham's architect closely followed the bourse of venice. the new bourse, flemish in character, was a long four-storeyed building, with a high double balcony. a bell-tower, crowned by a huge grasshopper, stood on one side of the chief entrance. the bell in this tower summoned merchants to the spot at twelve o'clock at noon and six o'clock in the evening. a lofty corinthian column, crested with a grasshopper, apparently stood outside the north entrance, overlooking the quadrangle. the brick building was afterwards stuccoed over, to imitate stone. each corner of the building, and the peak of every dormer window, was crowned by a grasshopper. within gresham's bourse were piazzas for wet weather, and the covered walks were adorned with statues of english kings. a statue of gresham stood near the north end of the western piazza. at the great fire of this statue alone remained there uninjured, as pepys and evelyn particularly record. the piazzas were supported by marble pillars, and above were small shops. the vaults dug below, for merchandise, proved dark and damp, and were comparatively valueless. hentzner, a german traveller who visited england in the year , particularly mentions the stateliness of the building, the assemblage of different nations, and the quantities of merchandise. [illustration: wren's plan for rebuilding london. (_see page ._)] many of the shops in the bourse remained unlet till queen elizabeth's visit, in , which gave them a lustre that tended to make the new building fashionable. gresham, anxious to have the bourse worthy of such a visitor, went round twice in one day to all the shopkeepers in "the upper pawn," and offered them all the shops they would furnish and light up with wax rent free for a whole year. the result of this liberality was that in two years gresham was able to raise the rent from s. a year to four marks, and a short time after to £ s. the milliners' shops at the bourse, in gresham's time, sold mousetraps, birdcages, shoeing-horns, lanthorns, and jews' trumps. there were also sellers of armour, apothecaries, booksellers, goldsmiths, and glass-sellers; but the shops soon grew richer and more fashionable, so that in the editor of stow says, "unto which place, on january , , queen elizabeth came from somerset house through fleet street past the north side of the bourse to sir thomas gresham's house in bishopsgate street, and there dined. after the banquet she entered the bourse on the south side, viewed every part; especially she caused the building, by herald's trumpet, to be proclaimed 'the royal exchange,' so to be called from henceforth, and not otherwise." such was the vulgar opinion of gresham's wealth, that thomas heywood, in his old play, _if you know not me, you know nobody_, makes gresham crush an invaluable pearl into the wine-cup in which he drinks his queen's health-- "here fifteen hundred pounds at one clap goes. instead of sugar, gresham drinks the pearl unto his queen and mistress. pledge it, lords!" the new exchange, like the nave of st. paul's, soon became a resort for idlers. in the inquest book of cornhill ward, (says mr. burgon), there is a presentment against the exchange, because on sundays and holidays great numbers of boys, children, and "young rogues," meet there, and shout and holloa, so that honest citizens cannot quietly walk there for their recreation, and the parishioners of st. bartholomew could not hear the sermon. in we find certain women prosecuted for selling apples and oranges at the exchange gate in cornhill, and "amusing themselves in cursing and swearing, to the great annoyance and grief of the inhabitants and passers-by." in a tavern-keeper, who had vaults under the exchange, was fined for allowing tippling, and for broiling herrings, sprats, and bacon, to the vexation of worshipful merchants resorting to the exchange. in we find that oranges and lemons were allowed to be sold at the gates and passages of the exchange. in complaint was made of the rat-catchers, and sellers of dogs, birds, plants, &c., who hung about the south gate of the bourse, especially at exchange time. it was also seriously complained of that the bear-wards, shakespeare's noisy neighbours in southwark, before special bull or bear baitings, used to parade before the exchange, generally in business hours, and there make proclamation of their entertainments, which caused tumult, and drew together mobs. it was usual on these occasions to have a monkey riding on the bear's back, and several discordant minstrels fiddling, to give additional publicity to the coming festival. [illustration: plan of the exchange in .] no person frequenting the bourse was allowed to wear any weapon, and in it was ordered that no one should walk in the exchange after ten p.m. in summer, and nine p.m. in winter. bishop hall, in his satires ( ), sketching the idlers of his day, describes "tattelius, the new-come traveller, with his disguised coat and new-ringed ear [shakespeare wore earrings], tramping the bourse's marble twice a day." and hayman, in his "quodlibet" ( ), has the following epigram on a "loafer" of the day, whom he dubs "sir pierce penniless," from naish's clever pamphlet, and ranks with the moneyless loungers of st. paul's:-- "though little coin thy purseless pockets line, yet with great company thou'rt taken up; for often with duke humfray thou dost dine, and often with sir thomas gresham sup." here, too, above all, the monarch of english poetry must have often paced, watching the antonios and shylocks of his day, the anxious wistful faces of the debtors or the embarrassed, and the greedy anger of the creditors. in the bourse he may first have thought over to himself the beautiful lines in the "merchant of venice" (act i.), where he so wonderfully epitomises the vicissitudes of a merchant's life:-- "my wind, cooling my broth, would blow me to an ague, when i thought what harm a wind too great might do at sea. i should not see the sandy hour-glass run, but i should think of shallows and of flats, and see my wealthy andrew dock'd in sand, vailing her high top lower than her ribs, to kiss her burial. should i go to church, and see the holy edifice of stone, and not bethink me straight of dangerous rocks? which, touching but my gentle vessel's side, would scatter all her spices on the stream; enrobe the roaring waters with my silks; and, in a word, but even now worth this, and now worth nothing? shall i have the thought to think on this; and shall i lack the thought, that such a thing, bechanced, would make me sad?" [illustration: the first royal exchange.] gresham seems to have died before the exchange was thoroughly furnished, for in (james i.) mr. nicholas leete, ironmonger, preferred a petition to the court of aldermen, lugubriously setting forth that thirty pictures of english kings and queens had been intended to have been placed in the exchange rooms, and praying that a fine, in future, should be put on every citizen, when elected an alderman, to furnish a portrait of some king or queen at an expense of not exceeding one hundred nobles. the pictures were "to be graven on wood, covered with lead, and then gilded and paynted in oil cullors." in gresham's exchange great precautions were taken against fire. feather-makers and others were forbidden to keep pans of fire in their shops. some care was also taken to maintain honesty among the shopkeepers, for they were forbidden to use blinds to their windows, which might obscure the shops, or throw false lights on the articles vended. on the sudden death of sir thomas gresham, in , it was found that he had left, in accordance with his promise, the royal exchange jointly to the city of london and the mercers' company after the decease of his wife. lady gresham appears not to have been as generous, single-minded, and large-hearted as her husband. she contested the will, and was always repining at the thought of the property passing away from her at death. she received £ s. per annum from the rent of the exchange, but tried hard to be allowed to grant leases for twenty-one years, or three lives, keeping the fines to herself; and this was pronounced by the council as utterly against both her husband's will and the rd elizabeth, to which she had been privy. she complained querulously that the city did not act well. the city then began to complain with more justice of lady gresham's parsimony. the bourse, badly and hastily built, began to fall out of repair, gratings by the south door gave way in , and the clock was always out of order. considering lady gresham had been left £ , a year, these neglects were unworthy of her, but they nevertheless continued till her death, in . as the same lady contributed £ in for the defence of the country against the armada, let us hope that she was influenced not so much by her own love of money as the importunities of some relatives of her first husband's family. [illustration: the second royal exchange, cornhill.] "the eye of london," as stow affectionately calls the first royal exchange, rapidly became a vast bazaar, where fashionable ladies went to shop, and sometimes to meet their lovers. contemporary allusions to gresham's exchange are innumerable in old writers. donald lupton, in a little work called "london and the country carbonadoed and quartered into severall characters," published in , says of the exchange:--"here are usually more coaches attendant than at church doors. the merchants should keep their wives from visiting the upper rooms too often, lest they tire their purses by attiring themselves.... there's many gentlewomen come hither that, to help their faces and complexion, break their husbands' backs; who play foul in the country with their land, to be fair and play false in the city." "i do not look upon the structure of this exchange to be comparable to that of sir thomas gresham in our city of london," says evelyn, writing from amsterdam in ; "yet in one respect it exceeds--that ships of considerable burthen ride at the very key contiguous to it." he writes from paris in the same strain: "i went to the exchange; the late addition to the buildings is very noble; but the gallerys, where they sell their pretty merchandize, are nothing so stately as ours in london, no more than the place is where they walk below, being only a low vault." even the associations which the rialto must have awakened failed to seduce him from his allegiance to the city of london. he writes from venice, in june, : "i went to their exchange--a place like ours, frequented by merchants, but nothing so magnificent." during the civil war the exchange statue of charles i. was thrown down, on the th of may, , and the premature inscription, "exit tyrannorum ultimus," put up in its place, which of course was removed immediately after the restoration, when a new statue was ordered. the acts for converting the monarchy into a commonwealth were burnt at the royal exchange, may , , by the hands of the common hangman. samuel rolle, a clergyman who wrote on the great fire, has left the following account of this edifice as it appeared in his day:--"how full of riches," he exclaims, "was that royal exchange! rich men in the midst of it, rich goods both above and beneath! there men walked upon the top of a wealthy mine, considering what eastern treasures, costly spices, and such-like things were laid up in the bowels (i mean the cellars) of that place. as for the upper part of it, was it not the great storehouse whence the nobility and gentry of england were furnished with most of those costly things wherewith they did adorn either their closets or themselves? here, if anywhere, might a man have seen the glory of the world in a moment. what artificial thing could entertain the senses, the fantasies of men, that was not there to be had? such was the delight that many gallants took in that magazine of all curious varieties, that they could almost have dwelt there (going from shop to shop like bee from flower to flower), if they had but had a fountain of money that could not have been drawn dry. i doubt not but a mohamedan (who never expects other than sensual delights) would gladly have availed himself of that place, and the treasures of it, for his heaven, and have thought there was none like it." in , during the plague, great fires were made at the north and south entrances of the exchange, to purify the air. the stoppage of public business was so complete that grass grew within the area of the royal exchange. the strange desertion thus indicated is mentioned in pepys' "notes." having visited the exchange, where he had not been for a good while, the writer exclaims: "how sad a sight it is to see the streets empty of people, and very few upon the 'change, jealous of every door that one sees shut up, lest it should be the plague, and about us two shops in three, if not more, generally shut up." at the great fire the king and the duke of york, afterwards james ii., attended to give directions for arresting the calamity. they could think of nothing calculated to be so effectual as blowing up or pulling down houses that stood in its expected way. such precautions were used in cornhill; but in the confusion that prevailed, the timbers which they had contained were not removed, and when the flames reached them, "they," says vincent, who wrote a sermon on the fire, "quickly cross the way, and so they lick the whole street up as they go; they mount up to the top of the highest houses; they descend down to the bottom of the lowest vaults and cellars, and march along on both sides of the way with such a roaring noise as never was heard in the city of london: no stately building so great as to resist their fury; the royal exchange itself, the glory of the merchants, is now invaded with much violence. when the fire was entered, how quickly did it run around the galleries, filling them with flames; then descending the stairs, compasseth the walks, giving forth flaming vollies, and filling the court with sheets of fire. by and by the kings fell all down upon their faces, and the greater part of the stone building after them (the founder's statue alone remaining), with such a noise as was dreadful and astonishing." in wren's great scheme for rebuilding london, he proposed to make the royal exchange the centre nave of london, from whence the great sixty-feet wide streets should radiate like spokes in a huge wheel. the exchange was to stand free, in the middle of a great piazza, and was to have double porticoes, as the forum at rome had. evelyn wished the new building to be at queenhithe, to be nearer the waterside, but eventually both his and wren's plan fell through, and mr. jerman, one of the city surveyors, undertook the design for the new bourse. for the east end of the new building the city required to purchase or fresh superficial feet of ground from a mr. sweeting, and , more for a passage. it was afterwards found that the city only required feet, and the improvement of the property would benefit mr. sweeting, who, however, resolutely demanded £ , . the refractory, greedy sweeting declared that his tenants paid him £ a year, and in fines £ ; and that if the new street cut near st. benet fink church, another £ , would not satisfy him for his damage. it is supposed that he eventually took £ for the feet inches of ground, and for an area feet long by wide. jerman's design for the new building being completed, and the royal approbation of it obtained, together with permission to extend the south-west angle of the new exchange into the street, the building (of which the need was severely felt) was immediately proceeded with; and the foundation was laid on the th of may, . on the rd of october, charles ii. laid the base of the column on the west side of the north entrance; after which he was plentifully regaled "with a chine of beef, grand dish of fowle, gammons of bacon, dried tongues, anchovies, caviare, &c, and plenty of several sorts of wine. he gave twenty pounds in gold to the workmen. the entertainment was in a shed, built and adorned on purpose, upon the scotch walk." pepys has given some account of this interesting ceremony in his diary, where we read, "sir w. pen and i back to london, and there saw the king with his kettle-drums and trumpets, going to the exchange, which, the gates being shut, i could not get in to see. so, with sir w. pen to captain cockes, and thence again towards westminster; but, in my way, stopped at the exchange, and got in, the king being nearly gone, and there find the bottom of the first pillar laid. and here was a shed set up, and hung with tapestry, and a canopy of state, and some good victuals, and wine for the king, who, it seems, did it." james ii., then duke of york, laid the first stone of the eastern column on the st of october. he was regaled in the same manner as the king had been; and on the th of november following, prince rupert laid the first stone of the east side of the south entrance, and was entertained by the city and company in the same place. (_vide_ "journals of the house of commons.") the ground-plan of jerman's exchange, we read in britton and pugin's "public buildings," presented nearly a regular quadrangle, including a spacious open court with porticoes round it, and also on the north and south sides of the building. the front towards cornhill was feet in extent. the central part was composed of a lofty archway, opening from the middle intercolumniation of four corinthian three-quarter columns, supporting a bold entablature, over the centre of which were the royal arms, and on the east side a balustrade, &c., surmounted by statues emblematical of the four quarters of the globe. within the lateral intercolumniations, over the lesser entrance to the arcade, were niches, containing the statues of charles i. and ii., in roman habits, by bushnell. the tower, which rose from the centre of the portico, consisted of three storeys. in front of the lower storey was a niche, containing a statue of sir thomas gresham; and over the cornice, facing each of the cardinal points, a bust of queen elizabeth; at the angles were colossal griffins, bearing shields of the city arms. within the second storey, which was of an octagonal form with trusses at the angles, was an excellent clock with four dials; there were also four wind-dials. the upper storey (which contained the bell) was circular, with eight corinthian columns supporting an entablature, surmounted by a dome, on which was a lofty vane of gilt brass, shaped like a grasshopper, the crest of the gresham family. the attic over the columns, in a line with the basement of the tower, was sculptured with two alto-relievos, in panels, one representing queen elizabeth, with attendant figures and heralds, proclaiming the original building, and the other britannia, seated amidst the emblems of commerce, accompanied by the polite arts, manufactures, and agriculture. the height from the basement line to the top of the dome was feet inches. within the quadrangle there was a spacious area, measuring feet by feet, surrounded by a wide arcade, which, as well as the area itself, was, for the general accommodation, arranged into several distinct parts, called "walks," where foreign and domestic merchants, and other persons engaged in commercial pursuits, daily met. the area was paved with real turkey stones, of a small size, the gift, as tradition reports, of a merchant who traded to that country. in the centre, on a pedestal, surrounded by an iron railing, was a statue of charles ii., in a roman habit, by spiller. at the intersections of the groining was a large ornamented shield, displaying either the city arms, the arms of the mercers' company, viz., a maiden's head, crowned, with dishevelled hair; or those of gresham, viz., a chevron, ermine, between three mullets. on the centre of each cross-rib, also in alternate succession, was a maiden's head, a grasshopper, and a dragon. the piazza was formed by a series of semi-circular arches, springing from columns. in the spandrils were tablets surrounded by festoons, scrolls, and other enrichments. in the wall of the back of the arcade were twenty-eight niches, only two of which were occupied by statues, viz., that toward the north-west, in which was sir thomas gresham, by cibber; and that toward the south-west, in which was sir john barnard, whose figure was placed here, whilst he was yet living, at the expense of his fellow-citizens, "in testimony of his merits as a merchant, a magistrate, and a faithful representative of the city in parliament." over the arches of the portico of the piazza were twenty-five large niches with enrichments, in which were the statues of our sovereigns. many of these statues were formerly gilt, but the whole were latterly of a plain stone colour. walpole says that the major part were sculptured by cibber. we append a few allusions to the second 'change in addison's works, and elsewhere. in , the following idle verses appeared, forming part of robin conscience's "progress through court, city, and country:"-- "now i being thus abused below, did walk upstairs, where on a row, brave shops of ware did make a shew most sumptious. "the gallant girls that there sold knacks, which ladies and brave women lacks, when they did see me, they did wax in choler. "quoth they, we ne'er knew conscience yet, and, if he comes our gains to get, we'll banish him; he'll here not get one scholar." "there is no place in the town," says that rambling philosopher, addison, "which i so much love to frequent as the royal exchange. it gives me a secret satisfaction, and in some measure gratifies my vanity, as i am an englishman, to see so rich an assembly of countrymen and foreigners consulting together upon the private business of mankind, and making this metropolis a kind of emporium for the whole earth. i must confess i look upon high 'change to be a great council in which all considerable nations have their representatives. factors in the trading world are what ambassadors are in the politic world; they negociate affairs, conclude treaties, and maintain a good correspondence between those wealthy societies of men that are divided from one another by seas and oceans, or live on the different extremities of a continent. i have often been pleased to hear disputes adjusted between an inhabitant of japan and an alderman of london; or to see a subject of the great mogul entering into a league with one of the czar of muscovy. i am infinitely delighted in mixing with these several ministers of commerce, as they are distinguished by their different walks and different languages. sometimes i am jostled among a body of armenians; sometimes i am lost in a crowd of jews; and sometimes make one in a group of dutchmen. i am a dane, swede, or frenchman at different times; or rather, fancy myself like the old philosopher, who, upon being asked what countryman he was, replied that he was a citizen of the world." "when i have been upon the 'change" (such are the concluding words of the paper), "i have often fancied one of our old kings standing in person where he is represented in effigy, and looking down upon the wealthy concourse of people with which that place is every day filled. in this case, how would he be surprised to hear all the languages of europe spoken in this little spot of his former dominions, and to see so many private men, who in his time would have been the vassals of some powerful baron, negotiating, like princes, for greater sums of money than were formerly to be met with in the royal treasury! trade, without enlarging the british territories, has given us a kind of additional empire. it has multiplied the number of the rich, made our landed estates infinitely more valuable than they were formerly, and added to them an accession of other estates as valuable as the land themselves." (_spectator_, no. .) it appears, from one of steele's contributions to the _spectator_, that so late as the year the shops continued to present undiminished attraction. they were then in number, and, letting at £ or £ each, formed, in all, a yearly rent of £ , : so, at least, it is stated on a print published in , of which a copy may be seen in mr. crowle's "pennant." steele, in describing the adventures of a day, relates that, in the course of his rambles, he went to divert himself on 'change. "it was not the least of my satisfaction in my survey," says he, "to go upstairs and pass the shops of agreeable females; to observe so many pretty hands busy in the folding of ribbons, and the utmost eagerness of agreeable faces in the sale of patches, pins, and wires, on each side of the counters, was an amusement in which i could longer have indulged myself, had not the dear creatures called to me, to ask what i wanted." "on evening 'change," says steele, "the mumpers, the halt, the blind, and the lame; your vendors of trash, apples, plums; your ragamuffins, rake-shames, and wenches--have jostled the greater number of honourable merchants, substantial tradesmen, and knowing masters of ships, out of that place. so that, what with the din of squallings, oaths, and cries of beggars, men of the greatest consequence in our city absent themselves from the royal exchange." the cost of the second exchange to the city and mercers' company is estimated by strype at £ , , but mr. burgon calculates it at only £ , s. the shops in the exchange, leading to a loss, were forsaken about , and eventually done away with some time after by the unwise act of , which enabled the city authorities to pull down gresham college. from time to time frequent repairs were made in jerman's building. those effected between the years and cost £ , . this sum included the cost of a handsome gate tower and cupola, erected in , from the design of george smith, esq., surveyor to the mercers' company, in lieu of jerman's dilapidated wooden tower. the clock of the second exchange, set up by edward stanton, under the direction of dr. hooke, had chimes with four bells, playing six, and latterly seven tunes. the sound and tunable bells were bought for £ s. per cwt. the balconies from the inner pawn into the quadrangle cost about £ . the signs over the shops were not hung, but were over the doors. caius gabriel cibber, the celebrated danish sculptor, was appointed carver of the royal statues of the piazza, but gibbons executed the statue of charles ii. for the quadrangle. bushnell, the mad sculptor of the fantastic statues on temple bar, carved statues for the cornhill front, as we have before mentioned. the statue of gresham in the arcade was by cibber; george iii., in the piazza, was sculptured by wilton; george i. and ii. were by rysbrach. the old clock had four dials, and chimed four times daily. the chimes played at three, six, nine, and twelve o'clock--on sunday, "the th psalm;" monday, "god save the king;" tuesday, "the waterloo march;" wednesday, "there's nae luck aboot the hoose;" thursday, "see the conquering hero comes;" friday, "life let us cherish;" saturday, "foot guards' march." the outside shops of the second exchange were lottery offices, newspaper offices, watchmakers, notaries, stockbrokers, &c. the shops in the galleries were superseded by the royal exchange assurance offices, lloyd's coffee-house, the merchant seamen's offices, the gresham lecture room, and the lord mayor's court office. "the latter," says timbs, "was a row of offices, divided by glazed partitions, the name of each attorney being inscribed in large capitals upon a projecting board. the vaults were let to bankers, and to the east india company for the stowage of pepper." chapter xliii. the second exchange on fire--chimes extraordinary--incidents of the fire--sale of salvage--designs for the new building--details of the present exchange--the ambulatory, or merchants' walk--royal exchange assurance company--"lloyd's"--origin of "lloyd's"--marine assurance--benevolent contributions of "lloyd's"--a "good" and "bad" book. [illustration: the present royal exchange.] the second exchange was destroyed by fire on the th of january, . the flames, which broke out probably from an over-heated stove in lloyd's coffee-house, were first seen by two of the bank watchmen about half-past ten. the gates had to be forced before entrance could be effected, and then the hose of the fire-engine was found to be frozen and unworkable. about one o'clock the fire reached the new tower. the bells chimed "life let us cherish," "god save the queen," and one of the last tunes heard, appropriately enough, was "there's nae luck aboot the hoose." the eight bells finally fell, crushing in the roof of the entrance arch. the east side of sweeting's alley was destroyed, and all the royal statues but that of charles ii. perished. one of lloyd's safes, containing bank-notes for £ , , was discovered after the fire, with the notes reduced to a cinder, but the numbers still traceable. a bag of twenty sovereigns, thrown from a window, burst, and some of the mob benefited by the gold. the statue of gresham was entirely destroyed. in the ruins of the lord mayor's court office the great city seal, and two bags, each containing £ in gold, were found uninjured. the flames were clearly seen at windsor (twenty-four miles from london), and at roydon mount, near epping (eighteen miles). troops from the tower kept cornhill clear, and assisted the sufferers to remove their property. if the wind had been from the south, the bank and st. bartholomew's church would also have perished. [illustration: blackwell hall in .] an act of parliament was passed in , giving power to purchase and remove all the buildings (called bank buildings) west of the exchange, and also the old buildings to the eastward, nearly as far as finch lane. the treasury at first claimed the direction of the whole building, but eventually gave way, retaining only a veto on the design. the cost of the building was, from the first, limited to £ , , to be raised on the credit of the london bridge fund. thirty designs were sent in by the rival architects, and exhibited in mercers' hall, but none could be decided upon; and so the judges themselves had to compete. eventually the competition lay between mr. tite and mr. cockerell, and the former was appointed by the committee. mr. tite was a classical man, and the result was a _quasi_-greek, roman, and composite building. mr. tite at once resolved to design the new building with simple and unbroken lines, like the paris bourse, and, as much as possible, to take the pantheon at rome as his guide. the portico was to be at the west end, the tower at the east. the first exchange had been built on piles; the foundations of the third cost £ , . in excavating for it, the workmen came on what had evidently been the very centre of roman london. in a gravel-pit, which afterwards seemed to have been a pond (perhaps the fountain of a grand roman courtyard), were found heaps of rubbish, coins of copper, yellow brass, silver, and silver-plated brass, of augustus, tiberius, claudius, nero, vespasian, domitian, &c., henry iv. of england, elizabeth, &c., and stores of flemish, german, prussian, danish, and dutch money. they also discovered fragments of roman stucco, painted shards of delicate samian ware, an amphora and terra-cotta lamps (seventeen feet below the surface), glass, bricks and tiles, jars, urns, vases, and potters' stamps. in the corporation museum at the guildhall, where mr. tite deposited these interesting relics, are also fine wood tablets, and styles (for writing on wax) of iron, brass, bone, and wood. there are also in the same collection, from the same source, artificers' tools and leather-work, soldiers' sandals and shoes, and a series of horns, shells, bones, and vegetable remains. tesselated pavements have been found in threadneedle street, and other spots near the exchange. the cost of enlarging the site of the exchange, including improvements, and the widening of cornhill, freeman's court, and broad street, the removal of the french protestant church, and demolition of st. benet fink, bank buildings, and sweeting's alley, was, according to the city chamberlain's return of , £ , s. d. the cost of the building was £ , . the portico, one of the finest of its kind, is ninety-six feet wide, and seventy-four feet high. that of st. martin's church is only sixty-four wide, and the post office seventy-six. the whole building was rapidly completed. the foundation-stone was laid by prince albert, january th, , john pirie, esq., being lord mayor. a huge red-striped pavilion had been raised for the ceremonial, and the duke of wellington and all the members of the peel cabinet were present. a bottle full of gold, silver, and copper coins was placed in a hollow of the huge stone, and the following inscription (in latin), written by the bishop of london, and engraved on a zinc plate:-- sir thomas gresham, knight, erected at his own charge a building and colonnade for the convenience of those persons who, in this renowned mart, might carry on the commerce of the world; adding thereto, for the relief of indigence, and for the advancement of literature and science, an almshouse and a college of lecturers; the city of london aiding him; queen elizabeth favouring the design, and, when the work was complete, opening it in person, with a solemn procession. having been reduced to ashes, together with almost the entire city, by a calamitous and widely-spreading conflagration, they were rebuilt in a more splendid form by the city of london and the ancient company of mercers, king charles the second commencing the building on the rd october, a.d. ; and when they had been again destroyed by fire, on the th january, a.d. , the same bodies, undertaking the work, determined to restore them, at their own cost, on an enlarged and more ornamental plan, the munificence of parliament providing the means of extending the site, and of widening the approaches and crooked streets in every direction, in order that there might at length arise, under the auspices of queen victoria, built a third time from the ground, an exchange worthy of this great nation and city, and suited to the vastness of a commerce extended to the circumference of the habitable globe. his royal highness prince albert of saxe-coburg and gotha, consort of her sacred majesty, laid the first stone on the th january, , in the mayoralty of the right hon. john pirie. architect, william tite, f.r.s. may god our preserver ward off destruction from this building, and from the whole city. at the sale of the salvage, the porter's large hand-bell, rung daily before closing the 'change (with the handle burnt), fetched £ s.; city griffins, £ and £ the pair; busts of queen elizabeth, £ s. and £ the pair; figures of europe, asia, africa, and america, £ ; the statue of anne, £ s.; george ii., £ s.; george iii. and elizabeth, £ s. each; charles ii., £ ; and the sixteen other royal statues similar sums. the copper-gilt grasshopper vane was reserved. the present royal exchange was opened by queen victoria on october , . the procession walked round the ambulatory, the queen especially admiring lang's (of munich) encaustic paintings, and proceeded to lloyd's reading-room, which was fitted up as a throne-room. prince albert, the duke of wellington, sir robert peel, lord john russell, sir robert sale, and other celebrities, were present. there the city address was read. after a sumptuous _déjeuner_ in the underwriters' room, the queen went to the quadrangle, and there repeated the formula, "it is my royal will and pleasure that this building be hereafter called 'the royal exchange.'" the mayor, the right hon. william magnay, was afterwards made a baronet, in commemoration of the day. a curious fact connected with the second exchange should not be omitted. on the th of september, , a deserted child was found on the stone steps of the royal exchange that led from cornhill to lloyd's coffee-house. the then churchwarden, mr. samuel birch, the well-known confectioner, had the child taken care of and respectably brought up. he was named gresham, and christened michael, after the patron saint of the parish in which he was found. the lad grew up shrewd and industrious, eventually became rich, and established the celebrated gresham hotel in sackville street, dublin. about he sold the hotel for £ , , and retired to his estate, raheny park, near dublin. he was a most liberal and benevolent man, and took an especial interest in the irish orphan societies. the tower at the east end of the exchange is feet to the top of the vane. the inner area of the building is feet by , of which feet by are open to the sky. the south front is one unbroken line of pilasters, with rusticated arches on the ground floor for shops and entrances, the three middle spaces being simple recesses. over these are richly-decorated windows, and above the cornice there are a balustrade and attic. on the north side the centre projects, and the pilasters are fewer. the arches on the ground floor are rusticated, and there are two niches. in one of them stands a statue of sir hugh myddelton, who brought the new river to london in ; and another of sir richard whittington, by carew. whittington was, it must be remembered, a mercer, and the exchange is specially connected with the mercers' company. on the east front of the tower is a niche where a statue of gresham, by behnes, keeps watch and ward. the vane is gresham's former grasshopper, saved from the fire. it is eleven feet long. the various parts of the exchange are divided by party walls and brick arches of such great strength as to be almost fire-proof--a compartment system which confines any fire that should break out into a small and restricted area. west of the exchange stands chantrey's bronze equestrian statue of the duke of wellington. it was chantrey's last work; and he died before it was completed. the sculptor received £ , for this figure; and the french cannon from which it was cast, and valued at £ , , were given by government for the purpose. the inauguration took place on the anniversary of the battle of waterloo, , the king of saxony being present. on the frieze of the portico is inscribed, "anno xiii. elizabethÆ r. conditvm; anno viii. victoria r. restavratvm." over the central doorway are the royal arms, by carew. the keystone has the merchant's mark of gresham, and the keystones of the side arches the arms of the merchant adventurers of his day, and the staple of calais. north and south of the portico, and in the attic, are the city sword and mace, with the date of queen elizabeth's reign and , and in the lower panels mantles bearing the initials of queen elizabeth and queen victoria respectively. the imperial crown is twelve inches in relief, and seven feet high. the tympanum of the pediment of the portico is filled with sculpture, by richard westmacott, r.a., consisting of seventeen figures carved in limestone, nearly all entire and detached. the centre figure, ten feet high, is commerce, with her mural crown, upon two dolphins and a shell. she holds the charter of the exchange. on her right is a group of three british merchants--as lord mayor, alderman, and common councilman--a hindoo, a mohammedan, a greek bearing a jar, and a turkish merchant. on the left are two british merchants and a persian, a chinese, a levant sailor, a negro, a british sailor, and a supercargo. the opposite angles are filled with anchors, jars, packages, &c. upon the pedestal of commerce is this inscription, selected by prince albert: "the earth is the lord's, and the fulness thereof."--psalm xxiv. i. the ascent to the portico is by thirteen granite steps. it was discussed at the time whether a figure of gresham himself should not have been substituted for that of commerce; but perhaps the abstract figure is more suitable for a composition which is, after all, essentially allegorical. the clock, constructed by dent, with the assistance of the astronomer royal, is true to a second of time, and has a compensation pendulum. the chimes consist of a set of fifteen bells, by mears, and cost £ , the largest being also the hour-bell of the clock. in the chime-work, by dent, there are two hammers to several of the bells, so as to play rapid passages; and three and five hammers strike different bells simultaneously. all irregularity of force is avoided by driving the chime-barrel through wheels and pinions. there are no wheels between the weight that pulls and the hammer to be raised. the lifts on the chime-barrel are all epicycloidal curves; and there are , holes pierced upon the barrel for the lifts, so as to allow the tunes to be varied. the present airs are "god save the queen," "the roast beef of old england," "rule britannia," and the th psalm. the bells, in substance, form, dimensions, &c., are from the bow bells' patterns; still, they are thought to be too large for the tower. the chime-work is stated to be the first instance in england of producing harmony in bells. the interior of the exchange is an open courtyard, resembling the _cortile_ of italian palaces. it was almost unanimously decided by the london merchants (in spite of the caprices of our charming climate) to have no covering overhead, a decision probably long ago regretted. the ground floor consists of doric columns and rusticated arches. above these runs a series of ionic columns, with arches and windows surmounted by a highly-ornamented pierced parapet. the keystones of the arches of the upper storey are decorated with the arms of all the principal nations of the world, in the order determined by the congress of vienna. in the centre of the eastern side are the arms of england. the ambulatory, or merchants' walk, is spacious and well sheltered. the arching is divided by beams and panelling, highly painted and decorated in encaustic. in the centre of each panel, on the four sides, the arms of the nations are repeated, emblazoned in their proper colours; and in the four angles are the arms of edward the confessor, who granted the first and most important charter to the city, edward iii., in whose reign london first grew powerful and wealthy, queen elizabeth, who opened the first exchange, and charles ii., in whose reign the second was built. in the south-east angle is a statue of queen elizabeth, by watson, and in the south-west a marble statue of charles ii., which formerly stood in the centre of the second exchange, and which escaped the last fire unscathed. in eight small circular panels of the ambulatory are emblazoned the arms of the three mayors (pirie, humphrey, and magnay), and of the three masters of the mercers' company in whose years of office the exchange was erected. the arms of the chairman of the gresham committee, mr. r.l. jones, and of the architect, mr. tite, complete the heraldic illustrations. the yorkshire pavement of the ambulatory is panelled and bordered with black stone, and squares of red granite at the intersections. the open area is paved with the traditional "turkey stones," from the old exchange, which are arranged in roman patterns, with squares of red aberdeen granite at the intersections. on the side-wall panels are the names of the walks, inscribed upon chocolate tablets. in each of the larger compartments are the arms of the "walk," corresponding with the merchants'. as you enter the colonnade by the west are the arms of the british empire, with those of austria on the right, and bavaria on the reverse side; then, in rotation, are the arms of belgium, france, hanover, holland, prussia, sardinia, the two sicilies, sweden and norway, the united states of america, the initials of the sultan of turkey, spain, saxony, russia, portugal, hanseatic towns, greece, and denmark. on a marble panel in the merchants' area are inscribed the dates of the building and opening of the three exchanges. "here are the same old-favoured spots, changed though they be in appearance," says the author of the "city" ( ); "and notwithstanding we have lost the great rothschild, jeremiah harman, daniel hardcastle, the younger rothschilds occupy a pillar on the south side of the exchange, much in the same place as their father; and the barings, the bateses, the salomons, the doxats, the durrants, the crawshays, the curries, and the wilsons, and other influential merchants, still come and go as in olden days. many sea-captains and brokers still go on 'change; but the 'walks' are disregarded. the hour at high 'change is from . to . p.m., the two great days being tuesday and friday for foreign exchanges." a city writer of has sketched the chief celebrities of the exchange of an earlier date. mr. salomon, with his old clothes-man attire, his close-cut grey beard, and his crutch-stick, toddling towards his offices in shooter's court, throgmorton street; jemmy wilkinson, with his old-fashioned manner, and his long-tailed blue coat with gilt buttons. on the south and east sides of the exchange are the arms of gresham, the city, and the mercers' company, for heraldry has not even yet died out. over the three centre arches of the north front are the three following mottoes:--gresham's (in old french), "fortun--à my;" the city, "domine dirige nos;" the mercers', "honor deo." surely old heraldry was more religious than modern trade, for the shoddy maker, or the owner of overladen vessels, could hardly inscribe their vessels or their wares with the motto "honor deo;" nor could the director of a bubble company with strict propriety head the columns of his ledger with the solemn words, "domine dirige nos." but these are cynical thoughts, for no doubt trade ranks as many generous, honourable, and pious people among its followers as any other profession; and we have surely every reason to hope that the moral standard is still rising, and that "the honour of an englishman" will for ever remain a proverb in the east. the whole of the west end of the exchange is taken up by the offices and board-rooms of the royal exchange assurance company, first organised in , at meetings in mercers' hall. it was an amalgamation of two separate plans. the petition for the royal sanction made, it seems, but slow way through the council and the attorney-general's department, for the south sea bubble mania was raging, and many of the ministers, including the attorney-general himself (and who was indeed afterwards prosecuted), had shares in the great bubble scheme, and wished as far as possible to secure for it the exclusive attention of the company. the petitioners, therefore (under high legal authority), at once commenced business under the temporary title of the mining, royal mineral, and batteries works, and in three-quarters of a year insured property to the amount of nearly two millions sterling. after the lapse of two years, the chancellor of the exchequer, eager for the money to be paid for the charter, and a select committee having made a rigid inquiry into the project, and the cash lodged at the bank to meet losses, recommended the grant to the house of commons. the act of the th george i., cap. , authorised the king to grant a charter, which was accordingly done, june nd, . the "london assurance," which is also lodged in the exchange, obtained its charter at the same time. each of these companies paid £ , to the exchequer. they were both allowed to assure on ships at sea, and going to sea, and to lend money on bottomry; and each was to have "perpetual succession" and a common seal. to prevent a monopoly, however, no person holding stock in either of the companies was allowed to purchase stock in the other. in , the "royal exchange assurance" obtained another charter for assurances on lives, and also of houses and goods from fire. in consequence of the depression of the times, the company was released from the payment of £ , of the £ , originally demanded by government. at the close of the last, and commencement of the present century, the monopolies of the two companies in marine assurance were sharply assailed. their enemies at last, however, agreed to an armistice, on their surrendering their special privileges, which (in spite of earl grey's exertions) were at last annulled, and any joint-stock company can now effect marine assurances. the loss of the monopoly did not, however, injure either excellent body of underwriters. "lloyd's," at the east end of the north side of the royal exchange, contains some magnificent apartments, and the steps of the staircase leading to them are of craigleath stone, fourteen feet wide. the subscribers' room (for underwriting) is feet long, by feet wide, and runs from north to south, on the east side of the merchants' quadrangle. this noble chamber has a library attached to it, with a gallery round for maps and charts, which many a shipowner, sick at heart, with fears for his rich argosy, has conned and traced. the captains' room, the board-room, and the clerks' offices, occupy the eastern end; and along the north front is the great commercial room, feet long, a sort of club-room for strangers and foreign merchants visiting london. the rooms are lit from the ceilings, and also from windows opening into the quadrangle. they are all highly decorated, well warmed and ventilated, and worthy, as mr. effingham wilson, in his book on the exchange, justly observes, of a great commercial city like london. the system of marine assurance seems to have been of great antiquity, and probably began with the italian merchants in lombard street. the first mention of marine insurance in england, says an excellent author, mr. burgon, in his "life of gresham," is in a letter from the protector somerset to the lord admiral, in (edward vi.), still preserved. gresham, writing from antwerp to sir thomas parry, in may, (elizabeth), speaks of armour, ordered by queen elizabeth, bought by him at antwerp, and sent by him to hamburg for shipment (though only about twelve ships a year came from thence to london). he had also adventured at his own risk, one thousand pounds' worth in a ship which, as he says, "i have caused to be assured upon the burse at antwerp." the following preamble to the statute, rd elizabeth, proves that marine assurance was even then an old institution in england:-- "whereas it has been, time out of mind, an usage among merchants, both of this realm and of foreign nations, when they make any great adventures (specially to remote parts), to give some considerable money to other persons (which commonly are no small number) to have from them assurance made of their goods, merchandize, ships, and things adventured, or some part thereof, at such rates, and in such sorts as the parties assurers and the parties assured can agree, which course of dealing is commonly termed a policy of assurance, by means of which it cometh to pass upon the loss or perishing of any ship, there followeth not the undoing of any man, but the loss lighteth rather easily upon many, than heavy upon few; and rather upon them that adventure not, than upon them that adventure; whereby all merchants, specially the younger sort, are allowed to venture more willingly and more freely." in , malynes, in his "lex mercatoria," says that all policies of insurance at antwerp, and other places in the low countries, then and formerly always made, mention that it should be in all things concerning the said assurances, as it was accustomed to be done in lombard street, london. in (charles i.), the marine assurers had rooms in the royal exchange, as appears by a law passed in that year, "for the sole making and registering of all manners of assurances, intimations, and renunciations made upon any ship or ships, goods or merchandise in the royal exchange, or any other place within the city of london;" and the rev. samuel rolle, in his "cx. discourses on the fire of london," mentions an assurance office in the royal exchange, "which undertook for those ships and goods that were hazarded at sea, either by boistrous winds, or dangerous enemies, yet could not secure itself, when sin, like samson, took hold of the pillars of it, and went about to pull it down." after the fire of london the underwriters met in a room near cornhill; and from thence they removed to a coffee-house in lombard street, kept by a person named lloyd, where intelligence of vessels was collected and made public. in a copy of _lloyd's list_, no. , still extant, dated friday, june th, , and quoted by mr. effingham wilson, it is stated: "this list, which was formerly published once a week, will now continue to be published every tuesday and friday, with the addition of the stocks, course of exchange, &c. subscriptions are taken in at three shillings per quarter, at the bar of lloyd's coffee-house in lombard street." _lloyd's list_ must therefore have begun about . [illustration: interior of lloyd's.] in the _tatler_ of december th, , is the following:--"this coffee-house being provided with a pulpit, for the benefit of such auctions that are frequently made in this place, it is our custom, upon the first coming in of the news, to order a youth, who officiates as the kidney of the coffee-house, to get into the pulpit, and read every paper, with a loud and distinct voice, while the whole audience are sipping their respective liquors." the following note is curious:--" th march, .--mr. baker, master of lloyd's coffee-house, in lombard street, waited on sir robert walpole with the news of admiral vernon's taking portobello. this was the first account received thereof, and, proving true, sir robert was pleased to order him a handsome present." (_gentleman's magazine_, march, .) the author of "the city" ( ) says: "the affairs of lloyd's are now managed by a committee of underwriters, who have a secretary and five or six clerks, besides a number of writers to attend upon the rooms. the rooms, three in number, are called respectively the subscribers' room, the merchants' room, and the captains' room, each of which is frequented by various classes of persons connected with shipping and mercantile life. since the opening of the merchants' room, which event took place when business was re-commenced at the royal exchange, at the beginning of this year, an increase has occurred in the number of visitors, and in which numbers the subscribers to lloyd's are estimated at , individuals. [illustration: the subscription-room at "lloyd's." _from an old print._] "taking the three rooms in the order they stand, under the rules and regulations of the establishment, we shall first describe the business and appearance of the subscribers' room. members to the subscribers' room, if they follow the business of underwriter or insurance broker, pay an entrance fee of twenty-five guineas, and an annual subscription of four guineas. if a person is a subscriber only, without practising the craft of underwriting, the payment is limited to the annual subscription fee of four guineas. the subscribers' room numbers about , or , members, the great majority of whom follow the business of underwriters and insurance brokers. the most scrupulous attention is paid to the admission of members, and the ballot is put into requisition to determine all matters brought before the committee, or the meeting of the house. "the underwriters' room, as at present existing, is a fine spacious room, having seats to accommodate the subscribers and their friends, with drawers and boxes for their books, and an abundant supply of blotting and plain paper, and pens and ink. the underwriters usually fix their seats in one place, and, like the brokers on the stock exchange, have their particular as well as casual customers. "'lloyd's books,'" which are two enormous ledger-looking volumes, elevated on desks at the right and left of the entrance to the room, give the principal arrivals, extracted from the lists so received at the chief outposts, english and foreign, and of all losses by wreck or fire, or other accidents at sea, written in a fine roman hand, sufficiently legible that 'he who runs may read.' losses or accidents, which, in the technicality of the room, are denominated 'double lines,' are almost the first read by the subscribers, who get to the books as fast as possible, immediately the doors are opened for business. "all these rooms are thrown open to the public as the 'change clock strikes ten, when there is an immediate rush to all parts of the establishment, the object of many of the subscribers being to seize their favourite newspaper, and of others to ascertain the fate of their speculation, as revealed in the double lines before mentioned." not only has lloyd's--a mere body of merchants--without government interference or patronage, done much to give stability to our commerce, but it has distinguished itself at critical times by the most princely generosity and benevolence. in the great french war, when we were pushed so hard by the genius of napoleon, which we had unwisely provoked, lloyd's opened a subscription for the relief of soldiers' widows and orphans, and commenced an appeal to the general public by the gift of £ , three per cent. consols. in three months only the sum subscribed at lloyd's amounted to more than £ , . in they gave £ , more, and in £ , . this was the commencement of the patriotic fund, placed under three trustees, sir francis baring, bart., john julius angerstein, esq., and thomson bonar, esq., and the subscriptions soon amounted to more than £ , . in other charities lloyd's were equally munificent. they gave £ , to the london hospital, for the admission of london merchant-seamen; £ , for suffering inhabitants of russia, in ; £ , for the relief of the north american militia ( ); £ , to the waterloo subscription of ; £ , for the establishment of lifeboats on the english coast. they also instituted rewards for those brave men who save, or attempt to save, life from shipwreck, and to those who do not require money a medal is given. this medal was executed by w. wyon, esq., r.a. the subject of the obverse is the sea-nymph leucothea appearing to ulysses on the raft; the moment of the subject chosen is found in the following lines:-- "this heavenly scarf beneath thy bosom bind, and live; give all thy terrors to the wind." the reverse is from a medal of the time of augustus--a crown of fretted oak-leaves, the reward given by the romans to him who saved the life of a citizen; and the motto, "ob cives servatos." by the system upon which business is conducted in lloyd's, information is given to the insurers and the insured; there are registers of almost every ship which floats upon the ocean, the places where they were built, the materials and description of timber used in their construction, their age, state of repair, and general character. an index is kept, showing the voyages in which they have been and are engaged, so that merchants may know the vessel in which they entrust their property, and assurers may ascertain the nature and value of the risk they undertake. agents are appointed for lloyd's in almost every seaport in the globe, who send information of arrivals, casualties, and other matters interesting to merchants, shipowners, and underwriters, which information is published daily in _lloyd's list_, and transmitted to all parts of the world. the collection of charts and maps is one of the most correct and comprehensive in the world. the lords of the admiralty presented lloyd's with copies of all the charts made from actual surveys, and the east india company was equally generous. the king of prussia presented lloyd's with copies of the charts of the baltic, all made from surveys, and printed by the prussian government. masters of all ships, and of whatever nation, frequenting the port of london, have access to this collection. before the last fire at the exchange there was, on the stairs leading to lloyd's, a monument to captain lydekker, the great benefactor to the london seamen's hospital. this worthy man was a shipowner engaged in the south sea trade, and some of his sick sailors having been kindly treated in the "dreadnought" hospital ship, in , he gave a donation of £ to the society. on his death, in , he left four ships and their stores, and the residue of his estate, after the payment of certain legacies. the legacy amounted to £ , s. d. in the three per cents., and £ , s. d. in cash was eventually received. the monument being destroyed by the fire in , a new monument, by mr. sanders, sculptor, was executed for the entrance to lloyd's rooms. the remark of "a good book" or "a bad book" among the subscribers to lloyd's is a sure index to the prospects of the day, the one being indicative of premium to be received, the other of losses to be paid. the life of the underwriter, like the stock speculator, is one of great anxiety, the events of the day often raising his expectations to the highest, or depressing them to the lowest pitch; and years are often spent in the hope for acquisition of that which he never obtains. among the old stagers of the room there is often strong antipathy expressed against the insurance of certain ships, but we never recollect its being carried out to such an extent as in the case of one vessel. she was a steady trader, named after one of the most venerable members of the room, and it was a most curious coincidence that he invariably refused to "write her" for "a single line." often he was joked upon the subject, and pressed "to do a little" for his namesake, but he as frequently denied, shaking his head in a doubtful manner. one morning the subscribers were reading the "double lines," or the losses, and among them was the total wreck of this identical ship. there seems to have been a regret on the first opening of the exchange for the coziness and quiet comfort of the old building. old frequenters missed the firm oak benches in the old ambulatoria, the walls covered with placards of ships about to sail, the amusing advertisements and lists of the sworn brokers of london, and could not acquire a rapid friendship for the encaustic flowers and gay colours of the new design. they missed the old sonorous bell, and the names of the old walks. chapter xliv. neighbourhood of the bank:--lothbury. lothbury--its former inhabitants--st. margaret's church--tokenhouse yard--origin of the name--farthings and tokens--silver halfpence and pennies--queen anne's farthings--sir william petty--defoe's account of the plague in tokenhouse yard. of lothbury, a street on the north side of the bank of england, stow says: "the street of lothberie, lathberie, or loadberie (for by all those names have i read it), took the name as it seemeth of _berie_, or _court_, of old time there kept, but by whom is grown out of memory. this street is possessed for the most part by founders that cast candlesticks, chafing dishes, spice mortars, and such-like copper or laton works, and do afterwards turn them with the foot and not with the wheel, to make them smooth and bright with turning and scratching (as some do term it), making a loathsome noise to the by-passers that have not been used to the like, and therefore by them disdainfully called lothberie." "lothbury," says hutton (queen anne), "was in stow's time much inhabited by founders, but now by merchants and warehouse-keepers, though it is not without such-like trades as he mentions." ben jonson brings in an allusion to once noisy lothbury in the "alchemist." in this play sir epicure mammon says:-- this night i'll change all that is metal in my house to gold; and early in the morning will i send to all the plumbers and the pewterers, and buy their tin and lead up; and to lothbury for all the copper. _surly._ what, and turn that too? _mammon._ yes, and i'll purchase devonshire and cornwall, and make them perfect indies. and again in his mask of "the gipsies metamorphosed"-- bless the sovereign and his seeing. * * * * * from a fiddle out of tune, as the cuckoo is in june, from the candlesticks of lothbury and the loud pure wives of banbury. stow says of st. margaret's, lothbury: "i find it called the chappel of st. margaret's de lothberie, in the reign of edward ii., when in the th of that king's reign, license was granted to found a chauntry there. there be monuments in this church of reginald coleman, son to robert coleman, buried there . this said robert coleman may be supposed the first builder or owner of coleman street; and that st. stephen's church, there builded in coleman street, was but a chappel belonging to the parish church of st. olave, in the jewry." in niches on either side of the altar-piece are two flat figures, cut out of wood, and painted to represent moses and aaron. these were originally in the church of st. christopher le stocks, but when that church was pulled down to make way for the west end of the bank of england, and the parish was united by act of parliament to that of st. margaret, lothbury (in ), they were removed to the place they now occupy. at the west end of the church is a metal bust inscribed to petrus le maire, ; this originally stood in st. christopher's, and was brought here after the fire. this church, which is a rectory, seated over the ancient course of walbrook, on the north side of lothbury, in the ward of coleman street (says maitland), owes its name to its being dedicated to st. margaret, a virgin saint of antioch, who suffered in the reign of decius. maitland also gives the following epitaph on sir john leigh, :-- "no wealth, no praise, no bright renowne, no skill, no force, no fame, no prince's love, no toyle, though forraine lands by travel search you will, no faithful service of thy country soile, can life prolong one minute of an houre; but death at length will execute his power. for sir john leigh, to sundry countries knowne, a worthy knight, well of his prince esteemed, by seeing much to great experience growne, though safe on seas, though sure on land he seemed, yet here he lyes, too soone by death opprest; his fame yet lives, his soule in heaven hath rest." the bowl of the font (attributed to grinling gibbons) is sculptured with representations of adam and eve in paradise, the return of the dove to the ark, christ baptised by st. john, and philip baptising the eunuch. in the reign of henry viii. a conduit (of which no trace now exists) was erected in lothbury. it was supplied with water from the spring of dame anne's, the "clear," mentioned by ben jonson in his "bartholomew fair." tokenhouse yard, leading out of lothbury, derived its name from an old house which was once the office for the delivery of farthing pocket-pieces, or tokens, issued for several centuries by many london tradesmen. copper coinage, with very few exceptions, was unauthorised in england till . edward vi. coined silver farthings, but queen elizabeth conceived a great prejudice to copper coins, from the spurious "black money," or copper coins washed with silver, which had got into circulation. the silver halfpenny, though inconveniently small, continued down to the time of the commonwealth. in the time of elizabeth, besides the nuremberg tokens which are often found in elizabethan ruins, many provincial cities issued tokens for provincial circulation, which were ultimately called in. in london no less than , persons, tradesmen and others, issued tokens, for which the issuer and his friends gave current coin on delivery. in the government struck a small copper coin, "the pledge of a halfpenny," about the size of a silver twopence, but queen elizabeth could never be prevailed upon to sanction the issue. sir robert cotton, writing in (james i.), on how the kings of england have supported and repaired their estates, says there were then , london tradesmen who cast annually each about £ worth of lead tokens, their store amounting to some £ , . london having then about , inhabitants, this amounted to about d. a person; and he urged the king to restrain tradesmen from issuing these tokens. in consequence of this representation, james, in , issued royal farthing tokens (two sceptres in saltier and a crown on one side, and a harp on the other), so that if the english took a dislike to them they might be ordered to pass in ireland. they were not made a legal tender, and had but a narrow circulation. in charles i. struck more of these, and in granted a patent for the coinage of farthings to henry lord maltravers and sir francis crane. during the civil war tradesmen again issued heaps of tokens, the want of copper money being greatly felt. charles ii. had halfpence and farthings struck at the tower in , and two years afterwards they were made a legal tender, by proclamation; they were of pure swedish copper. in there was a coinage of tin farthings, with a copper centre, and the inscription, "_nummorum famulus._" the following year halfpence of the same description were issued, and the use of copper was not resumed till , when all the tin money was called in. speaking of the supposed mythical queen anne's farthing, mr. pinkerton says:--"all the farthings of the following reign of anne are trial pieces, since that of , her last year. they are of most exquisite workmanship, exceeding most copper coins of ancient or modern times, and will do honour to the engraver, mr. croker, to the end of time. the one whose reverse is peace in a car, _fax missa per orbem_, is the most esteemed; and next to it the britannia under a portal; the other farthings are not so valuable." we possess a complete series of silver pennies, from the reign of egbert to the present day (with the exception of the reigns of richard and john, the former coining in france, the latter in ireland). tokenhouse yard was built in the reign of charles i., on the site of a house and garden of the earl of arundel (removed to the strand), by sir william petty, an early writer on political economy, and a lineal ancestor of the present marquis of lansdowne. this extraordinary genius, the son of a hampshire clothier, was one of the earliest members of the royal society. he studied anatomy with hobbes in paris, wrote numerous philosophical works, suggested improvements for the navy, and, in fact, explored almost every path of science. aubrey says that, being challenged by sir hierom sankey, one of cromwell's knights, petty being short-sighted, chose for place a dark cellar, and for weapons a big carpenter's axe. petty's house was destroyed in the fire of london. john grant, says peter cunningham, also had property in tokenhouse yard. it was for grant that petty is said to have compiled the bills of mortality which bear his name. defoe, who, however, was only three years old when the plague broke out, has laid one of the most terrible scenes in his "history of the plague" in tokenhouse yard. "in my walks," he says, "i had many dismal scenes before my eyes, as particularly of persons falling dead in the streets, terrible shrieks and screeching of women, who in their agonies would throw open their chamber windows, and cry out in a dismal surprising manner. passing through tokenhouse yard, in lothbury, of a sudden a casement violently opened just over my head, and a woman gave three frightful screeches, and then cried, 'oh! death, death, death!' in a most inimitable tone, which struck me with horror, and a chilliness in my very blood. there was nobody to be seen in the whole street, neither did any other window open, for people had no curiosity now in any case, nor could anybody help one another. just in bell alley, on the right hand of the passage, there was a more terrible cry than that, though it was not so directed out at the window; but the whole family was in a terrible fright, and i could hear women and children run screaming about the rooms like distracted; when a garret window opened, and somebody from a window on the other side the alley called and asked, 'what is the matter?' upon which, from the first window it was answered, 'ay, ay, quite dead and cold!' this person was a merchant, and a deputy-alderman, and very rich. but this is but one. it is scarce credible what dreadful cases happened in particular families every day. people in the rage of the distemper, or in the torment of their swellings, which was, indeed, intolerable, running out of their own government, raving and distracted, oftentimes laid violent hands upon themselves, throwing themselves out at their windows, shooting themselves, &c.; mothers murdering their own children in their lunacy; some dying of mere grief, as a passion; some of mere fright and surprise, without any infection at all; others frighted into idiotism and foolish distractions, some into despair and lunacy, others into melancholy madness." chapter xlv. throgmorton street.--the drapers' company. halls of the drapers' company--throgmorton street and its many fair houses--drapers and wool merchants--the drapers in olden times--milborne's charity--dress and livery--election dinner of the drapers' company--a draper's funeral--ordinances and pensions--fifty-three draper mayors--pageants and processions of the drapers--charters--details of the present drapers' hall--arms of the drapers' company. throgmorton street is at the north-east corner of the bank of england, and was so called after sir nicholas throgmorton, who is said to have been poisoned by dudley, earl of leicester, queen elizabeth's favourite. there is a monument to his memory in the church of st. catherine cree. the drapers' first hall, according to herbert, was in cornhill; the second was in throgmorton street, to which they came in (henry viii.), on the beheading of cromwell, earl of essex, its previous owner; and the present structure was re-erected on its site, after the great fire of london. [illustration: interior of drapers' hall.] stow, describing the augustine friars' church, says there have been built at its west end "many feyre houses, namely, in throgmorton streete;" and among the rest, "one very large and spacious," builded, he says, "in place of olde and small tenements, by thomas cromwell, minister of the king's jewell-house, after that maister of the rolls, then lord cromwell, knight, lord privie seale, vicker-generall, earle of essex, high chamberlain of england, &c.;" and he then tells the following story respecting it:-- "this house being finished, and having some reasonable plot of ground left for a garden, hee caused the pales of the gardens adjoining to the north parte thereof, on a sodaine, to bee taken down, twenty-two foote to be measured forth right into the north of every man's ground, a line there to be drawne, a trench to be cast, a foundation laid, and a high bricke wall to be builded. my father had a garden there, and an house standing close to his south pale; this house they loosed from the ground, and bore upon rollers into my father's garden, twenty-two foot, ere my father heard thereof. no warning was given him, nor other answere, when hee spoke to the surveyors of that worke, but that their mayster, sir thomas, commanded them so to doe; no man durst go to argue the matter, but each man lost his land, and my father payde his whole rent, whiche was vjs. viijd. the yeare, for that halfe which was left. thus much of mine owne knowledge have i thought goode to note, that the sodaine rising of some men causeth them to forget themselves." ("survaie of london," .) the company was incorporated in (henry vi.), but it also possesses a charter granted them by edward iii., that they might regulate the sale of cloths according to the statute. drapers were originally makers, not merely, as now, dealers in cloth. (herbert.) the country drapers were called clothiers; the wool-merchants, staplers. the britons and saxons were both, according to the best authorities, familiar with the art of cloth-making; but the greater part of english wool, from the earliest times, seems to have been sent to the netherlands, and from thence returned in the shape of fine cloth, since we find king ethelred, as early as , exacting from the easterling merchants of the steel yard, in thames street, tolls of cloth, which were paid at billingsgate. the width of woollen cloth is prescribed in magna charta. there was a weavers' guild in the reign of henry i., and the drapers are mentioned soon after as flourishing in all the large provincial cities. it is supposed that the cloths sold by such drapers were red, green, and scarlet cloths, made in flanders. in the next reign english cloths, made of spanish wool, are spoken of. drapers are recorded in the reign of henry ii. as paying fines to the king for permission to sell dyed cloths. in the same reign, english cloths made of spanish wool are mentioned. in the reign of edward i., the cloth of candlewick street (cannon street) was famous. the guild paid the king two marks of gold every year at the feast of michaelmas. [illustration: drapers' hall garden.] but edward iii., jealous of the netherlands, set to work to establish the english cloth manufacture. he forbade the exportation of english wool, and invited over seventy walloon weaver families, who settled in cannon street. the flemings had their meeting-place in st. lawrence poultney churchyard, and the brabanters in the churchyard of st. mary somerset. in the king removed the wool staple from calais to westminster and nine english towns. in richard ii. again changed the wool staple from westminster to staples' inn, holborn; and in a weekly cloth-market was established at blackwell hall, basinghall street; the london drapers at first opposing the right of the country clothiers to sell in gross. the drapers for a long time lingered about cornhill, where they had first settled, living in birchin lane, and spreading as far as the stocks' market; but in the reign of henry vi. the drapers had all removed to cannon street, where we find them tempting lydgate's "london lickpenny" with their wares. in this reign arms were granted to the company, and the grant is still preserved in the british museum. the books of the company commence in the reign of edward iv., and are full of curious details relating to dress, observances, government, and trade. edward iv., it must be remembered, in , when he had invited the mayor and aldermen to a great hunt at waltham forest, not to forget the city ladies, sent them two harts, six bucks, and a tun of wine, with which noble present the lady mayoress (wife of sir bartholomew james, draper) entertained the aldermen's wives at drapers' hall, st. swithin's lane, cannon street. the chief extracts from the drapers' records made by herbert are the following:-- in forty of the company rode to meet edward iv. on his return from france, at a cost of £ . in they sent six persons to welcome the unhappy edward v., whom the dukes of gloucester and buckingham, preparatory to his murder, had brought to london; and in the following november, the company dispatched twenty-two of the livery, in many-coloured coats, to attend the coronation procession of edward's wicked hunchback uncle, richard iii. presently they mustered men, on the rising of the kentish rebels; and again, in finsbury fields, at "the coming of the northern men." they paid s. for boat hire to westminster, to attend the funeral of queen anne (richard's queen). in henry vii.'s reign, we find the drapers again boating to westminster, to present their bill for the reformation of cloth-making. the barge seems to have been well supplied with ribs of beef, wine, and pippins. we find the ubiquitous company at many other ceremonies of this reign, such as the coronation of the queen, &c. in the merchant taylors came to a conference at drapers' hall, about some disputes in the cloth trade, and were hospitably entertained with bread and wine. in the great riots at the steel yard, when the london 'prentices tried to sack the flemish warehouses, the drapers helped to guard the depôt, with weapons, cressets, and banners. they probably also mustered for the king at blackheath against the cornish insurgents. we meet them again at the procession that welcomed princess katherine of spain, who married prince arthur; then, in the lady chapel at st. paul's, listening to prince arthur's requiem; and, again, bearing twelve enormous torches of wax at the burial of henry vii., the prince's father. in (henry viii.) sir william capell left the drapers' company houses in various parts of london, on condition of certain prayers being read for his soul, and certain doles being given. in the company, sorely against its will, was compelled by the arbitrary king to help fit out five ships of discovery for sebastian cabot, whose father had discovered newfoundland. they called it "a sore adventure to jeopard ships with men and goods unto the said island, upon the singular trust of one man, called, as they understood, sebastian." but wolsey and the king would have no nay, and the company had to comply. the same year, sir john brugge, mayor and draper, being invited to the serjeants' feast at ely house, holborn, the masters of the drapers and seven other crafts attended in their best livery gowns and hoods; the mayor presiding at the high board, the master of the rolls at the second, the master of the drapers at the third. another entry in the same year records a sum of £ s. spent on thirty-two yards of crimson satin, given as a present to win the good graces of "my lord cardinal," the proud wolsey, and also twenty marks given him, "as a pleasure," to obtain for the company more power in the management of the blackwell hall trade. in great disputes arose between the drapers and the crutched friars. sir john milborne, who was several times master of the company, and mayor in , had built thirteen almshouses, near the friars' church, for thirteen old men, who were daily at his tomb to say prayers for his soul. there was also to be an anniversary obit. the drapers' complaint was that the religious services were neglected, and that the friars had encroached on the ground of milborne's charity. henry viii. afterwards gave crutched friars to sir thomas wyat, the poetical friend of the earl of surrey, who built a mansion there, which was afterwards lumley house. at the dissolution of monasteries, the company paid £ , s. for their chantries and obits. the dress or livery of the company seems to have varied more than that of any other--from violet, crimson, murrey, blue, blue and crimson, to brown, puce. in the reign of james i. a uniform garb was finally adopted. the observances of the company at elections, funerals, obits, and pageants were quaint, friendly, and clubable enough. every year, at lady day, the whole body of the fellowship in new livery went to bow church (afterwards to st. michael's, cornhill), there heard the lady mass, and offered each a silver penny on the altar. at evensong they again attended, and heard dirges chanted for deceased members. on the following day they came and heard the mass of requiem, and offered another silver penny. on the day of the feast they walked two and two in livery to the dining-place, each member paying three shillings the year that no clothes were supplied, and two shillings only when they were. the year's quarterage was sevenpence. in the election dinner consisted of fowls, swans, geese, pike, half a buck, pasties, conies, pigeons, tarts, pears, and filberts. the guests all washed after dinner, standing. at the side-tables ale and claret were served in wooden cups; but at the high table they gave pots and wooden cups for ale and wine, but for red wine and hippocras gilt cups. after being served with wafers and spiced wine, the masters went among the guests and gathered the quarterage. the old master then rose and went into the parlour, with a garland on his head and his cup-bearer before him, and, going straight to the upper end of the high board, without minstrels, chose the new master, and then sat down. then the masters went into the parlour, and took their garlands and four cupbearers, and crossed the great parlour till they came to the upper end of the high board; and there the chief warden delivered his garland to the warden he chose, and the three other wardens did likewise, proffering the garlands to divers persons, and at last delivering them to the real persons selected. after this all the company rose and greeted the new master and wardens, and the dessert began. at some of these great feasts some people sat down. the lady members and guests sometimes dined with the brothers, and sometimes in separate rooms. at the midsummer dinner, or dinners, of , six bucks seem to have been eaten, besides three boars, a barrelled sturgeon, twenty-four dozen quails; three hogsheads of wine, twenty-one gallons of muscadel, and thirteen and a half barrels of ale. it was usual at these generous banquets to have players and minstrels. the funerals of the company generally ended with a dinner, at which the chaplains and a chosen few of the company feasted. the company's pall was always used; and on one occasion, in , we find a silver spoon given to each of the six bearers. spiced bread, bread and cheese, fruit, and ale were also partaken of at these obits, sometimes at the church, sometimes at a neighbouring tavern. at the funeral of sir roger achilley, lord mayor in , there seem to have been twenty-four torch-bearers. the pews were apparently hung with black, and children holding torches stood by the hearse. the company maintained two priests at st. michael's, cornhill. the funeral of sir william roche, mayor in , was singularly splendid. first came two branches of white wax, borne before the priests and clerks, who paced in surplices, singing as they paced. then followed a standard, blazoned with the dead man's crest--a red deer's head, with gilt horns, and gold and green wings. next followed mourners, and after them the herald, with the dead man's coat armour, checkered silver and azure. then followed the corpse, attended by clerks and the livery. after the corpse came the son, the chief mourner, and two other couples of mourners. the swordbearer and lord mayor, in state, walked next; then the aldermen, sheriffs, and the drapery livery, followed by all the ladies, gentlewomen, and aldermen's wives. after the dirge, they all went to the dead man's house, and partook of spiced bread and comfits, with ale and beer. the next day the mourners had a collection at the church. then the chief mourners presented the target, sword, helmet, and banners to the priests, and a collection was made for the poor. directly after the sacrament, the mourners went to mrs. roche's house, and dined, the livery dining at the drapers' hall, the deceased having left £ s. d. for that purpose. the record concludes thus: "and my lady roche, of her gentylness, sent them moreover four gallons of french wine, and also a box of wafers, and a pottell of ipocras. for whose soul let us pray, and all christian souls. amen." the company maintained priests, altars, and lights at st. mary woolnoth's, st. michael's, cornhill, st. thomas of acon, austin friars, and the priory of st. bartholomew. the drapers' ordinances are of great interest. every apprentice, on being enrolled, paid fees, which went to a fund called "spoon silver." the mode of correcting these wayward lads was sometimes singular. thus we find one needswell in the parlour, on court day, flogged by two tall men, disguised in canvas frocks, hoods, and vizors, twopennyworth of birchen rods being expended on his moral improvement. the drapers had a special ordinance, in the reign of henry iv., to visit the fairs of westminster, st. bartholomew, spitalfields, and southwark, to make a trade search, and to measure doubtful goods by the "drapers' ell," a standard said to have been granted them by king edward iii. bread, wine, and pears seem to have been the frugal entertainment of the searchers. decayed brothers were always pensioned; thus we find, in , sir laurence aylmer, who had actually been mayor in , applying for alms, and relieved, we regret to state, somewhat grudgingly. in mr. lawford, clerk of the company, stated to the commissioners of municipal inquiry that there were then sixty poor freemen on the charity roll, who received £ a year each. the master and wardens also gave from the company's bounty quarterly sums of money to about fifty or sixty other poor persons. in cases where members of the court fell into decay, they received pensions during the court's pleasure. one person of high repute, then recently deceased, had received the sum of £ per annum, and on this occasion the city had given him back his sheriff's fine. the attendance fee given to members of the court was two guineas. from to , strype reckons fifty-three draper mayors. eight of these were the heads of noble families, forty-three were knights or baronets, fifteen represented the city in parliament, seven were founders of churches and public institutions. the earls of bath and essex, the barons wotton, and the dukes of chandos are among the noble families which derive their descent from members of this illustrious company. that great citizen, henry fitz-alwin, the son of leofstan, goldsmith, and provost of london, was a draper, and held the office of mayor for twenty-four successive years. in the drapers' lord mayors' shows the barges seem to have been covered with blue or red cloth. the trumpeters wore crimson hats; and the banners, pennons, and streamers were fringed with silk, and "beaten with gold." the favourite pageants were those of the assumption and st. ursula. the drapers' procession on the mayoralty of one of their members, sir robert clayton, is thus described by jordan in his "london industre:"-- _"in proper habits, orderly arrayed, the movements of the morning are displayed._ selected citizens i' th' morning all, at seven a clock, do meet at _drapers' hall_. the master, wardens, and assistants joyn for the first rank, in their gowns fac'd with foyn. the second order do, in merry moods, march in gowns fac'd with budge and livery hoods. in gowns and scarlet hoods thirdly appears a youthful number of foyn's batchellors; forty budge batchellors the triumph crowns, gravely attir'd in scarlet hoods and gowns. gentlemen ushers which white staves do hold sixty, in velvet coats and chains of gold. next, thirty more in plush and buff there are, that several colours wear, and banners bear. the serjeant trumpet thirty-six more brings (twenty the duke of york's, sixteen the king's). the serjeant wears two scarfs, whose colours be one the lord mayor's, t'other's the company. the king's drum major, follow'd by four more of the king's drums and fifes, make _london roar_." "what gives the festivities of this company an unique zest," says herbert, "however, is the visitors at them, and which included a now extinct race. we here suddenly find ourselves in company with abbots, priors, and other heads of monastic establishments, and become so familiarised with the abbot of tower hill, the prior of st. mary ovary, christ church, st. bartholomew's, the provincial and the prior of 'freres austyn's,' the master of st. thomas acon's and st. laurence pulteney, and others of the metropolitan conventual clergy, most of whom we find amongst their constant yearly visitors, that we almost fancy ourselves living in their times, and of their acquaintance." the last public procession of the drapers' company was in , when the master wardens and court of assistants walked in rank to hear a sermon at st. peter's, cornhill; a number of them each carried a pair of shoes, stockings, and a suit of clothes, the annual legacy to the poor of this company. the drapers possess seven original charters, all of them with the great seal attached, finely written, and in excellent preservation. these charters comprise those of edward i., henry vi., edward iv., philip and mary, elizabeth, and two of james i. the latter is the acting charter of the company. in james i., the company is entitled "the master and wardens and brothers and sisters of the guild or fraternity of the blessed virgin mary, of the mystery of drapers of the city of london." in maitland's time ( ), the company devoted £ , a year to charitable uses. [illustration: cromwell's house, from aggas's map. (_taken from herbert's "city companies."_)] aggas's drawing represents cromwell house almost windowless, on the street side, and with three small embattled turrets; and there was a footway through the garden of winchester house, which forms the present passage (says herbert) from the east end of throgmorton street, through austin friars to great winchester street. the great fire stopped northwards at drapers' hall. the renter warden lost £ of the company's money, but the company's plate was buried safely in a sewer in the garden. till the hall could be rebuilt, sir robert clayton lent the drapers a large room in austin friars. the hall was rebuilt by jarman, who built the second exchange and fishmongers' hall. the hall had a very narrow escape (says herbert) in from a fire, which broke out in the vaults beneath the hall (let out as a store-cellar), and destroyed a considerable part of the building, together with a number of houses on the west side of austin friars. the present drapers' hall is mr. jarman's structure, but altered, and partly rebuilt after the fire in , and partly rebuilt again in . it principally consists of a spacious quadrangle, surrounded by a fine piazza or ambulatory of arches, supported by columns. the quiet old garden greatly improves the hall, which, from this appendage, and its own elegance, might be readily supposed the mansion of a person of high rank. the present throgmorton street front of the building is of stone and marble, and was built by mr. herbert williams, who also erected the splendid new hall, removing the old gallery, adding a marble staircase fit for an emperor's palace, and new facing the court-room, the ceiling of which was at the same time raised. marble pillars, stained glass windows, carved marble mantelpieces, gilt panelled ceilings--everything that is rich and tasteful--the architect has used with lavish profusion. the buildings of the former interior were of fine red brick, but the front and entrance, in throgmorton street, was of a yellow brick; both interior and exterior were highly enriched with stone ornaments. over the gateway was a large sculpture of the drapers' arms, a cornice and frieze, the latter displaying lions' heads, rams' heads, &c., in small circles, and various other architectural decorations. the old hall, properly so called, occupied the eastern side of the quadrangle, the ascent to it being by a noble stone staircase, covered, and highly embellished by stucco-work, gilding, &c. the stately screen of this magnificent apartment was curiously decorated with carved pillars, pilasters, arches, &c. the ceiling was divided into numerous compartments, chiefly circular, displaying, in the centre, phaeton in his car, and round him the signs of the zodiac, and various other enrichments. in the wainscoting was a neat recess, with shelves, whereon the company's plate, which, both for quality and workmanship, is of great value, was displayed at their feasts. above the screen, at the end opposite the master's chair, hung a portrait of lord nelson, by sir william beechey, for which the company paid four hundred guineas, together with the portrait of fitz-alwin, the great draper, already mentioned. "in denominating this portrait _curious_," says herbert, "we give as high praise as can be afforded it. oil-painting was totally unknown to england in fitz-alwin's time; the style of dress, and its execution as a work of art, are also too modern." in the gallery, between the old hall and the livery-room, were full-length portraits of the english sovereigns, from william iii. to george iii., together with a full-length portrait of george iv., by lawrence, and the celebrated picture of mary queen of scots, and her son, james i., by zucchero. the portrait of the latter king is a fine specimen of the master, and is said to have cost the company between £ and £ . "it has a fault, however," says herbert, "observable in other portraits of this monarch, that of the likeness being flattered. if it was not uncourteous so to say, we should call it george iv. with the face of the prince of wales. respecting the portrait of mary and her son, there has been much discussion. its genuineness has been doubted, from the circumstance of james having been only a twelvemonth old when this picture is thought to have been painted, and his being here represented of the age of four or five; but the anachronism might have arisen from the whole being a composition of the artist, executed, not from the life, but from other authorities furnished to him." it was cleaned and copied by spiridione roma, for boydell's print, who took off a mask of dirt from it, and is certainly a very interesting picture. there is another tradition of this picture: that sir anthony babington, confidential secretary to queen mary, had her portrait, which he deposited, for safety, either at merchant taylors' hall or drapers' hall, and that it had never come back to sir anthony or his family. it has been insinuated that sir william boreman, clerk to the board of green cloth in the reign of charles ii., purloined this picture from one of the royal palaces. some absurdly suggest that it is the portrait of lady dulcibella boreman, the wife of sir william. there is a tradition that this valuable picture was thrown over the wall into drapers' garden during the great fire, and never reclaimed. the old court-room adjoined the hall, and formed the north side of the quadrangle. it was wainscoted, and elegantly fitted up, like the last. the fire-place was very handsome, and had over the centre a small oblong compartment in white marble, with a representation of the company receiving their charter. the ceiling was stuccoed, somewhat similarly to the hall, with various subjects allusive to the drapers' trade and to the heraldic bearings of the company. both the (dining) hall and this apartment were rebuilt after the fire in . the old gallery led to the ladies' chamber and livery-room. in the former, balls, &c., were occasionally held. this was also a very elegant room. the livery-room was a fine lofty apartment, and next in size to the hall. here were portraits of sir joseph sheldon, lord mayor, , by gerard soest, and a three-quarter length of sir robert clayton, by kneller, , seated in a chair--a great benefactor to christ's hospital, and to that of st. thomas, in southwark; and two benefactors--sir william boreman, an officer of the board of green cloth in the reigns of charles i. and charles ii., who endowed a free school at greenwich; and henry dixon, of enfield, who left land in that parish for apprenticing boys of the same parish, and giving a sum to such as were bound to freemen of london at the end of their apprenticeship. here was also a fine portrait of mr. smith, late clerk of the company (three-quarters); a smaller portrait of thomas bagshaw, who died in , having been beadle to the company forty years, and who for his long and faithful services has been thus honoured. the windows of the livery-room overlook the private garden, in the midst of which is a small basin of water, with a fountain and statue. the large garden, which adjoins this, is constantly open to the public, from morning till night, excepting saturdays, sundays, and the company's festival days. this is a pleasant and extensive plot of ground, neatly laid out with gravelled walks, a grass-plot, flowering shrubs, lime-trees, pavilions, &c. beneath what was formerly the ladies' chamber is the record-room, which is constructed of stone and iron, and made fire-proof, for the more effectually securing of the company's archives, books, plate, and other valuable and important documents. howell, in his "letters," has the following anecdote about drapers' hall. "when i went," he says, "to bind my brother ned apprentice, in drapers' hall, casting my eyes upon the chimney-piece of the great room, i spyed a picture of an ancient gentleman, and underneath, 'thomas howell;' i asked the clerk about him, and he told me that he had been a spanish merchant in henry viii.'s time, and coming home rich, and dying a bachelor, he gave that hall to the company of drapers, with other things, so that he is accounted one of the chiefest benefactors. i told the clerk that one of the sons of thomas howell came now thither to be bound; he answered that, if he be a right howell, he may have, when he is free, three hundred pounds to help to set him up, and pay no interest for five years. it may be, hereafter, we will make use of this." the drapers' list of livery states their modern arms to be thus emblazoned, viz.--azure, three clouds radiated _proper_, each adorned with a triple crown _or_. supporters--two lions _or_, pelletted. crest--on a wreath, a ram couchant _or_, armed _sables_, on a mount _vert_. motto--"unto god only be honour and glory." chapter xlvi. bartholomew lane and lombard street. george robins--his sale of the lease of the olympic--st. bartholomew's church--the lombards and lombard street--william de la pole--gresham--the post office, lombard street--alexander pope's father in plough court--lombard street tributaries--st. mary woolnoth--st. clement's--dr. benjamin stone--discovery of roman remains--st. mary abchurch. bartholomew lane is associated with the memory of mr. george robins, one of the most eloquent auctioneers who ever wielded an ivory hammer. the auction mart stood opposite the rotunda of the bank. it is said that robins was once offered £ , and all his expenses to go and dispose of a valuable property in new york. his annual income was guessed at £ , . it is said that half the landed property in england had passed under his hammer. robins, with incomparable powers of blarney and soft sawder, wrote poetical and alluring advertisements (attributed by some to eminent literary men), which were irresistibly attractive. his notice of the sale of the twenty-seven years' lease of the olympic, at the death of mr. scott, in , was a marvel of adroitness:-- "mr. george robins is desired to announce to the public, and more especially to the theatrical world, that he is authorised to sell by public auction, at the mart, on thursday next, the twentieth of june, at twelve, the olympic theatre, which for so many years possessed a kindly feeling with the public, and has, for many seasons past, assumed an unparalleled altitude in theatricals, since it was fortunately demised to madame vestris; who, albeit, not content to move at the slow rate of bygone time, gave to it a spirit and a consequence, that the march of improvement and her own consummate taste and judgment had conceived. to crown her laudable efforts with unquestionable success, she has caused to be completed (with the exception of st. james's) the most splendid little theatre in europe; has given to the entertainments a new life; has infused so much of her own special tact, that it now claims to be one of the most famed of the metropolitan theatres. indeed, it is a fact that will always remain on record, that amid the vicissitudes of all other theatrical establishments, with madame at its head, success has never been equivocal for a moment, and the receipts have for years past averaged nearly as much as the patent theatres. the boxes are in such high repute, that double the present low rental is available by this means alone. madame vestris has a lease for three more seasons at only one thousand pounds a year," &c. [illustration: pope's house, plough court, lombard street.] the sale itself is thus described by mr. grant, who writes as if he had been present:--"mr. robins," says grant, "had exhausted the english language in commendation of that theatre; he made it as clear as any proposition in euclid that madame vestris could not possibly succeed in covent garden; that, in fact, she could succeed in no other house than the olympic; and that consequently the purchaser was quite sure of her as a tenant as long as he chose to let the theatre to her. he proved to demonstration that the theatre would always fill, no matter who should be the lessee; and that consequently it would prove a perfect mine of wealth to the lucky gentleman who was sufficiently alive to his own interests to become the purchaser. by means of such representations, made in a way and with an ingenuity peculiar to himself, mr. robins had got the biddings up from the starting sum, which was £ , , to £ , . there, however, the aspirants to the property came to what mr. robins called a dead stop. for at least three or four minutes he put his ingenuity to the rack in lavishing encomiums on the property, without his zeal and eloquence being rewarded by a single new bidding. it was at this extremity--and he never resorts to the expedient until the bidders have reached what they themselves at the time conceive to be the highest point--it was at this crisis of the olympic, mr. robins, causing the hammer to descend in the manner i have described, and accompanying the slow and solemn movement with a 'going--going--go----,' that the then highest bidder exclaimed, 'the theatre is mine!' and at which mr. robins, apostrophising him in his own bland and fascinating manner, remarked, 'i don't wonder, my friend, that your anxiety to possess the property at such a price should anticipate my decision; but,' looking round the audience and smiling, as if he congratulated them on the circumstance, 'it is still in the market, gentlemen: you have still an opportunity of making your fortunes without risk or trouble.' the bidding that instant re-commenced, and proceeded more briskly than ever. it eventually reached £ , , at which sum the theatre was 'knocked down.'" st. bartholomew's behind the exchange was built in . stow gives the following strange epitaph, date :-- here lyes a margarite that most excell'd (her father wyts, her mother lichterveld, rematcht with metkerke) of remarke for birth, but much more gentle for her genuine worth; wyts (rarest) jewell (so her name bespeakes) in pious, prudent, peaceful, praise-full life, fitting a sara and a sacred's wife, such as saravia and (her second) hill, whose joy of life, death in her death did kill. quam pie obiit, puerpera, die , junii, anno salutis . Ætatis . from my sad cradle to my sable chest, poore pilgrim, i did find few months of rest. in flanders, holland, zeland, england, all, to parents, troubles, and to me did fall. these made me pious, patient, modest, wise; and, though well borne, to shun the gallants' guise; but now i rest my soule, where rest is found, my body here, in a small piece of ground, and from my hill, that hill i have ascended, from whence (for me) my saviour once descended. margarita, a jewell. i, like a jewell, tost by sea to land, am bought by him, who weares me on his hand. margarita, margareta. one night, two dreames made two propheticals, thine of thy coffin, mine of thy funerals. if women all were like to thee, we men for wives should happy be. the first stone of the gresham club house, no. , king william street, corner of st. swithin's lane, was laid in , the event being celebrated by a dinner at the albion tavern, aldersgate street, the lord mayor, sir william magnay, in the chair. the club was at first under the presidency of john abel smith, esq., m.p. the building was erected from the design of mr. henry flower, architect. after the expulsion of the jews, the lombards (or merchants of genoa, lucca, florence, and venice) succeeded them as the money-lenders and bankers of england. about the middle of the thirteenth century these italians established themselves in lombard street, remitting money to italy by bills of exchange, and transmitting to the pope and italian prelates their fees, and the incomes of their english benefices. mr. burgon has shown that to these industrious strangers we owe many of our commercial terms, such, for instance, as _debtor_, _creditor_, _cash_, _usance_, _bank_, _bankrupt_, _journal_, _diary_, _ditto_, and even our £ _s. d._, which originally stood for _libri_, _soldi_, and _denari_. in the early part of the fifteenth century we find these swarthy merchants advancing loans to the state, and having the customs mortgaged to them by way of security. pardons and holy wafers were also sold in this street before the reformation. one of the celebrated dwellers in mediæval lombard street was william de la pole, father of michael, earl of suffolk. he was king's merchant or factor to edward iii., and in , at antwerp, lent that warlike and extravagant monarch a sum equivalent to £ , of our current money. he received several munificent grants of crown land, and was created chief baron of the exchequer and a knight banneret. he is always styled in public instruments "dilectus mercator et valectus noster." his son michael, who died at the siege of harfleur in , succeeded to his father's public duties and his house in lombard street, near birchin lane. michael's son fell at agincourt. the last de la pole was beheaded during the wars of the roses. about the date , when gresham was honoured by being sent as english ambassador to the court of the duchess of parma, he resided in lombard street. his shop (about the present no. ) was distinguished by his father's crest--viz., a grasshopper. the original sign was seen by pennant; and mr. burgon assures us that it continued in existence as late as , being removed or stolen on the erection of the present building. gresham was not only a mercer and merchant adventurer, but a banker--a term which in those days of or per cent. interest meant also, "a usurer, a pawnbroker, a money scrivener, a goldsmith, and a dealer in bullion" (burgon). after his knighthood, gresham seems to have thought it undignified to reside at his shop, so left it to his apprentice, and removed to bishopsgate, where he built gresham house. it was a vulgar tradition of elizabeth's time, according to lodge, that gresham was a foundling, and that an old woman who found him was attracted to the spot by the increased chirping of the grasshoppers. this story was invented, no doubt, to account for his crest. during the first two years of gresham's acting as the king's factor, he posted from antwerp no fewer than forty times. between the st of march, , and the th of july his payments amounted to £ , s. d.; his travelling expenses for riding in and out eight times, £ s., including a supper and a banquet to the schetz and the fuggers, the great banks with whom he had to transact business, £ being equal, mr. burgon calculates, to £ of the present value of money. the last-named feast must have been one of great magnificence, as the guests appear to have been not more than twenty. on such occasions gresham deemed it policy to "make as good chere as he could." he was living in lombard street, no doubt, at that eventful day when, being at the house of mr. john byvers, alderman, he promised that "within one month after the founding of the burse he would make over the whole of the profits, in equal moities, to the city and the mercers' company, in case he should die childless;" and "for the sewer performance of the premysses, the said sir thomas, in the presens of the persons afore named, did give his house to sir william garrard, and drank a carouse to thomas rowe." this mirthful affair was considered of so much importance as to be entered on the books of the corporation, solemnly commencing with the words, "be it remembered, that the ixth day of february, in anno domini ," &c. gresham's wealth was made chiefly by trade with antwerp. "the exports from antwerp," says burgon, "at that time consisted of jewels and precious stones, bullion, quicksilver, wrought silks, cloth of gold and silver, gold and silver thread, camblets, grograms, spices, drugs, sugar, cotton, cummin, galls, linen, serges, tapestry, madder, hops in great quantities, glass, salt-fish, small wares (or, as they were then called, merceries), made of metal and other materials, to a considerable amount; arms, ammunition, and household furniture. from england antwerp imported immense quantities of fine and coarse woollen goods, as canvas, frieze, &c, the finest wool, excellent saffron in small quantities, a great quantity of lead and tin, sheep and rabbit-skins, together with other kinds of peltry and leather; beer, cheese, and other provisions in great quantities, also malmsey wines, which the english at that time obtained from candia. cloth was, however, by far the most important article of traffic between the two countries. the annual importation into antwerp about the year , including every description of cloth, was estimated at more than , pieces, amounting in value to upwards of , , escus d'or, or about £ , , sterling." in the reign of charles ii. we find the "grasshopper" in lombard street the sign of another wealthy goldsmith, sir charles duncombe, the founder of the feversham family, and the purchaser of helmsley, in yorkshire, the princely seat of george villiers, second duke of buckingham: "helmsley, once proud buckingham's delight, yields to a scrivener and a city knight." here also resided sir robert viner, the lord mayor of london in , and apparently an especial favourite with charles ii. the post office, lombard street, formerly the general post office, was originally built by "the great banquer," sir robert viner, on the site of a noted tavern destroyed in the great fire of . here sir robert kept his mayoralty in . strype describes it as a very large and curious dwelling, with a handsome paved court, and behind it "a yard for stabling and coaches." the st. martin's-le-grand general post office was not opened till . "i have," says "aleph," in the _city press_, "a vivid recollection of lombard street in . more than half a century has rolled away since then, yet there, sharply and clearly defined, before the eye of memory, stand the phantom shadows of the past. i walked through the street a few weeks ago. it is changed in many particulars; yet enough remains to identify it with the tortuous, dark vista of lofty houses which i remember so well. then there were no pretentious, stucco-faced banks or offices; the whole wall-surface was of smoke-blacked brick; its colour seemed to imitate the mud in the road, and as coach, or wagon, or mail-cart toiled or rattled along, the basement storeys were bespattered freely from the gutters. the glories of gas were yet to be. after three o'clock p.m. miserable oil lamps tried to enliven the foggy street with their 'ineffectual light,' while through dingy, greenish squares of glass you might observe tall tallow candles dimly disclosing the mysteries of bank or counting-house. passengers needed to walk with extreme caution; if you lingered on the pavement, woe to your corns; if you sought to cross the road, you had to beware of the flying postmen or the letter-bag express. as six o'clock drew near, every court, alley, and blind thoroughfare in the neighbourhood echoed to the incessant din of letter-bells. men, women, and children were hurrying to the chief office, while the fiery-red battalion of postmen, as they neared the same point, were apparently well pleased to balk the diligence of the public, anxious to spare their coppers. the mother post-office for the united kingdom and the colonies was then in lombard street, and folks thought it was a model establishment. such armies of clerks, such sacks of letters, and countless consignments of newspapers! how could those hard-worked officials ever get through their work? the entrance, barring paint and stucco, remains exactly as it was fifty years ago. what crowds used to besiege it! what a strange confusion of news-boys! the struggling public, with late letters; the bustling redcoats, with their leather bags, a scene of anxious life and interest seldom exceeded. and now the letter-boxes are all closed; you weary your knuckles in vain against the sliding door in the wall. no response. every hand within is fully occupied in letter-sorting for the mails; they must be freighted in less than half an hour. yet, on payment of a shilling for each, letters were received till ten minutes to eight, and not unfrequently a post-chaise, with the horses in a positive lather, tore into the street, just in time to forward some important despatch. hark! the horn! the horn! the mail-guards are the soloists, and very pleasant music they discourse; not a few of them are first-rate performers. a long train of gaily got-up coaches, remarkable for their light weight, horsed by splendid-looking animals, impatient at the curb, and eager to commence their journey of ten miles (at least) an hour; stout 'gents,' in heavy coats, buttoned to the throat, esconce themselves in 'reserved seats.' commercial men contest the right of a seat with the guard or coachman; some careful mother helps her pale, timid daughter up the steps; while a fat old lady already occupies two-thirds of the seat--what will be done? bags of epistles innumerable stuff the boots; formidable bales of the daily journals are trampled small by the guard's heels. the clock will strike in less than five minutes; the clamour deepens, the hubbub seems increasing; but ere the last sixty seconds expire, a sharp winding of warning bugles begins. coachee flourishes his whip, greys and chestnuts prepare for a run, the reins move, but very gently, there is a parting crack from the whipcord, and the brilliant cavalcade is gone--_exeunt omnes!_ lombard street is a different place now, far more imposing, though still narrow and dark; the clean-swept roadway is paved with wood, cabs pass noiselessly--a capital thing, only take care you are not run over. most of the banks and assurance offices have been converted into stone." in plough court (no. ), lombard street, pope's father carried on the business of a linen merchant. "he was an honest merchant, and dealt in hollands wholesale," as his widow informed mr. spence. his son claimed for him the honour of being sprung from gentle blood. when that gallant baron, lord hervey, vice-chamberlain in the court of george ii., and his ally, lady mary wortley montague, disgraced themselves by inditing the verses containing this couplet-- "whilst none thy crabbed numbers can endure, hard as thy heart, _and as thy birth obscure_;" pope indignantly repelled the accusation as to his descent. "i am sorry (he said) to be obliged to such a presumption as to name my family in the same leaf with your lordship's; but my father had the honour in one instance to resemble you, for he was a younger brother. he did not indeed think it a happiness to bury his elder brother, though he had one, who wanted some of those good qualities which yours possessed. how sincerely glad should i be to pay to that young nobleman's memory the debt i owed to his friendship, whose early death deprived your family of as much wit and honour as he left behind him in any branch of it. but as to my father, i could assure you, my lord, that he was no mechanic (neither a hatter, nor, which might please your lordship yet better, a cobbler), but, in truth, of a very tolerable family, and my mother of an ancient one, as well born and educated as that lady whom your lordship made use of to educate your own children, whose merit, beauty, and vivacity (if transmitted to your posterity) will be a better present than even the noble blood they derive from you. a mother, on whom i was never obliged so far to reflect as to say, she spoiled me; and a father, who never found himself obliged to say of me, that he disapproved my conduct. in a word, my lord, i think it enough, that my parents, such as they were, never cost me a blush; and that their son, such as he is, never cost them a tear." the house of pope's father was afterwards occupied by the well-known chemists, allen, hanbury, and barry, a descendant of which firm still occupies it. mr. william allen was the son of a quaker silk manufacturer in spitalfields. he became chemical lecturer at guy's hospital, and an eminent experimentalist--discovering, among other things, the proportion of carbon in carbonic acid, and proving that the diamond was pure carbon. he was mainly instrumental in founding the pharmaceutical society, and distinguished himself by his zeal against slavery, and his interest in all benevolent objects. he died in , at lindfield, in sussex, where he had founded agricultural schools of a thoroughly practical kind. the church of st. edmund king and martyr (and st. nicholas acons), on the north side of lombard street, stands on the site of the old grass market. the only remarkable monument is that of dr. jeremiah mills, who died in , and had been president of the society of antiquaries many years. the local authorities have, with great good sense, written the duplex name of this church in clear letters over the chief entrance. the date of the first building of st. mary woolnoth of the nativity, in lombard street, seems to be very doubtful; nor does stow help us to the origin of the name. by some antiquaries it has been suggested that the church was so called from being beneath or nigh to the wool staple. mr. gwilt suggests that it may have been called "wool-nough," in order to distinguish it from the other church of st. mary, where the wool-beam actually stood. the first rector mentioned by newcourt was john de norton, presented previous to . sir martin bowes had the presentation of this church given him by henry v., it having anciently belonged to the convent of st. helen's, bishopsgate. from the bowes's the presentation passed to the goldsmiths' company. sir martin bowes was buried here, and so were many of the houblons, a great mercantile family, on one of whom pepys wrote an epitaph. munday particularly mentions that the wills of several benefactors of st. mary's were carefully preserved and exhibited in the church. strype also mentions a monument to sir william phipps, that lucky speculator who, in , extracted £ , from the wreck of a spanish plate-vessel off the bahama bank. simon eyre, the old founder of leadenhall market, was buried in this church in . sir hugh brice, goldsmith and mayor, governor of the mint in the reign of henry vii., built or rebuilt part of the church, and raised a steeple. the church was almost totally destroyed in the great fire, and repaired by wren. sir robert viner, the famous goldsmith, contributed largely towards the rebuilding, "a memorial whereof," says strype, "are the vines that adorn and spread about that part of the church that fronts his house and the street; insomuch, that the church was used to be called sir robert viner's church." wren's repairs having proved ineffectual, the church was rebuilt in . the workmen, twenty feet under the ruins of the steeple, discovered bones, tusks, roman coins, and a vast number of broken roman pottery. it is generally thought by antiquaries that a temple dedicated to concord once stood here. hawksmoor, the architect of st. mary woolnoth, was born the year of the great fire, and died in . he acted as wren's deputy during the erection of the hospitals at chelsea and greenwich, and also in the building of most of the city churches. the principal works of his own design are christ church, spitalfields, st. anne's, limehouse, and st. george's, bloomsbury. mr. j. godwin, an excellent authority, calls st. mary woolnoth "one of the most striking and original, although not the most beautiful, churches in the metropolis." on the north side of the communion-table is a plain tablet in memory of that excellent man, the rev. john newton, who was curate of olney, bucks, for sixteen years, and rector of the united parishes of st. mary woolnoth and st. mary woolchurch twenty-eight years. he died on the st of december, , aged eighty-two years, and was buried in a vault in this church. on the stone is the following inscription, full of christian humility:-- "john newton, clerk, once an infidel and libertine, a servant of slaves in africa, was, by the rich mercy of our lord and saviour jesus christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the faith he had long laboured to destroy." newton's father was master of a merchant-ship, and newton's youth was spent in prosecuting the african slave-trade, a career of which he afterwards bitterly repented. he is best known as the writer (in conjunction with the poet cowper) of the "olney hymns." the exterior of this church is praised by competent authorities for its boldness and originality, though some critic says that the details are ponderous enough for a fortress or a prison. the elongated tower, from the arrangement of the small chimney-like turrets at the top, has the appearance of being two towers united. dallaway calls it an imitation of st. sulpice, at paris; but unfortunately servandoni built st. sulpice some time after st. mary woolnoth was completed. mr. godwin seems to think hawksmoor followed vanbrugh's manner in the heaviness of his design. [illustration: st. mary woolnoth.] st. clement's church, clement's lane, lombard street, sometimes called st. clement's, eastcheap, is noted by newcourt as existing as early as . the rectory belonged to westminster abbey, but was given by queen mary to the bishop of london and his successors for ever. after the great fire, when the church was destroyed, the parish of st. martin orgar was united to that of st. clement's. the parish seem to have been pleased with wren's exertions in rebuilding, for in their register books for there is the following item:--"to one-third of a hogshead of wine, given to sir christopher wren, £ s." one of the rectors of st. clement's, dr. benjamin stone, who had been presented to the living by bishop juxon, being deemed too popish by cromwell, was imprisoned for some time at crosby hall. from thence he was sent to plymouth, where, after paying a fine of £ , he obtained his liberty. on the restoration of charles ii., stone recovered his benefice, but died five years after. in this church bishop pearson, then rector, delivered his celebrated sermons on the creed, which he afterwards turned into his excellent exposition, a text-book of english divinity, which he dedicated "to the right worshipful and well-beloved, the parishioners of st. clement's, eastcheap." [illustration: interior of merchant taylors' hall.] the interior is a parallelogram, with the addition of a south aisle, introduced in order to disguise the intrusion of the tower, which stands at the south-west angle of the building. the ceiling is divided into panels, the centre one being a large oval band of fruit and flowers. the pulpit and desk, as well as the large sounding-board above them, are very elaborately carved; and a marble font standing in the south aisle has an oak cover of curious design. among many mural tablets are three which have been erected at the cost of the parishioners, commemorative of the rev. thomas green, curate twenty-seven years, who died in ; the rev. john farrer, rector ( ); and the rev. w. valentine ireson, who was lecturer of the united parishes thirty years, and died in . in digging a new sewer in lombard street a few years ago (says pennant, writing in ), the remains of a roman road were discovered, with numbers of coins, and several antique curiosities, some of great elegance. the beds through which the workmen sunk were four. the first consisted of factitious earth, about thirteen feet six inches thick, all accumulated since the desertion of the ancient street; the second of brick, two feet thick, the ruins of the buildings; the third of ashes, only three inches; the fourth of roman pavement, both common and tessellated, over which the coins and other antiquities were discovered. beneath that was the original soil. the predominant articles were earthenware, and several were ornamented in the most elegant manner. a vase of red earth had on its surface a representation of a fight of men, some on horseback, others on foot; or perhaps a show of gladiators, as they all fought in pairs, and many of them naked. the combatants were armed with falchions and small round shields, in the manner of the thracians, the most esteemed of the gladiators. some had spears, and others a kind of mace. a beautiful running foliage encompassed the bottom of this vessel. on the fragment of another were several figures. among them appears pan with his _pedum_, or crook; and near to him one of the _lascivi satyri_, both in beautiful skipping attitudes. on the same piece are two tripods; round each is a serpent regularly twisted, and bringing its head over a bowl which fills the top. these seem (by the serpent) to have been dedicated to apollo, who, as well as his son Æsculapius, presided over medicine. on the top of one of the tripods stands a man in full armour. might not this vessel have been votive, made by order of a soldier restored to health by favour of the god, and to his active powers and enjoyment of rural pleasures, typified under the form of pan and his nimble attendants? a plant extends along part of another compartment, possibly allusive to their medical virtues; and, to show that bacchus was not forgotten, beneath lies a _thyrsus_ with a double head. on another bowl was a free pattern of foliage. on others, or fragments, were objects of the chase, such as hares, part of a deer, and a boar, with human figures, dogs, and horses; all these pieces prettily ornamented. there were, besides, some beads, made of earthenware, of the same form as those called the _ovum anguinum_, and, by the welsh, _glain naidr_; and numbers of coins in gold, silver, and brass, of claudius, nero, galba, and other emperors down to constantine. st. mary abchurch was destroyed by the great fire, and rebuilt by wren in . maitland says, "and as to this additional appellation of _ab_, or _up-church_, i am at as great a loss in respect to its meaning, as i am to the time when the church was at first founded; but, as it appears to have anciently stood on an eminence, probably that epithet was conferred upon it in regard to the church of st. lawrence pulteney, situate below." stow gives one record of st. mary abchurch, which we feel a pleasure in chronicling:--"this dame helen branch, buried here, widow of sir john branch, knt., lord mayor of london, an. , gave £ to be lent to young men of the company of drapers, from four years to four years, for ever, £ . which lady gave also to poor maids' marriages, £ . to the poor of abchurch, £ . to the poor prisoners in and about london, £ . besides, for twenty-six gowns to poor men and women, £ . and many other worthy legacies to the universities." the pulpit and sounding-board are of oak, and the font has a cover of the same material, presenting carved figures of the four evangelists within niches. on the south side of the church is an elaborate monument of marble, part of which is gilt, consisting of twisted columns supporting a circular pediment, drapery, cherubim, &c, to mr. edward sherwood, who died january th, ; and near it is a second, in memory of sir patience ward, knt., alderman, and lord mayor of london in . he died on the th of july, . the east end of the church is in abchurch lane, and the south side faces an open paved space, divided from the lane by posts. this was formerly enclosed as a burial-ground, but was thrown open for the convenience of the neighbourhood. the present church was completed from the designs of sir christopher wren in . in the interior it is nearly square, being about sixty-five feet long, and sixty feet wide. the walls are plain, having windows in the south side and at the east end to light the church. the area of the church is covered by a large and handsome cupola, supported on a modillion cornice, and adorned with paintings which were executed by sir james thornhill; and in the lower part of this also are introduced other lights. "the altar-piece," says mr. g. godwin, "presents four corinthian columns, with entablature and pediment, grained to imitate oak, and has a carved figure of a pelican over the centre compartment. it is further adorned by a number of carved festoons of fruit and flowers, which are so exquisitely executed, that if they were a hundred miles distant, we will venture to say they would have many admiring visitants from london. these carvings, by grinling gibbons, were originally painted after nature by sir james. they were afterwards covered with white paint, and at this time they are, in common with the rest of the screen, of the colour of oak. fortunately, however, these proceedings, which must have tended to fill up the more delicately carved parts, and to destroy the original sharpness of the lines, have not materially injured their general effect." chapter xlvii. threadneedle street. the centre of roman london--st. benet fink--the monks of st. anthony--the merchant taylors--stow, antiquary and tailor--a magnificent roll--the good deeds of the merchant taylors--the old and the modern merchant taylors' hall--"concordia parvæ res crescunt"--henry vii. enrolled as a member of the taylors' company--a cavalcade of archers--the hall of commerce in threadneedle street--a painful reminiscence--the baltic coffee-house--st. anthony's school--the north and south american coffee-house--the south sea house--history of the south sea bubble--bubble companies of the period--singular infatuation of the public--bursting of the bubble--parliamentary inquiry into the company's affairs--punishment of the chief delinquents--restoration of public credit--the poets during the excitement--charles lamb's reverie. in threadneedle street we stand in the centre of roman london. in a tesselated pavement, now in the british museum, was found at lothbury. the exchange stands, as we have already mentioned, on a mine of roman remains. in - tesselated pavements were found, about twelve or fourteen feet deep, beneath the old french protestant church, with coins of agrippa, claudius, domitian, marcus aurelius, and the constantines, together with fragments of frescoes, and much charcoal and charred barley. these pavements are also preserved in the british museum. in , in excavating the site of the church of st. benet fink, there was found a large deposit of roman _débris_, consisting of roman tiles, glass, and fragments of black, pale, and red samian pottery. the church of st. benet fink, of which a representation is given at page , was so called from one robert finck, or finch, who built a previous church on the same site (destroyed by the fire of ). it was completed by sir christopher wren, in , at the expense of £ , , but was taken down in . the tower was square, surmounted by a cupola of four sides, with a small turret on the top. there was a large recessed doorway on the north side, of very good design. the arrangement of the body of the church was very peculiar, we may say unique; and although far from beautiful, afforded a striking instance of wren's wonderful skill. the plan of the church was a decagon, within which six composite columns in the centre supported six semi-circular vaults. wren's power of arranging a plan to suit the site was shown in numerous buildings, but in none more forcibly than in this small church. "st. benedict's," says maitland, "is vulgarly bennet fink. though this church is at present a donative, it was anciently a rectory, in the gift of the noble family of nevil, who probably conferred the name upon the neighbouring hospital of st. anthony." newcourt, who lived near st. benet fink, says the monks of the order of st. anthony hard by were so importunate in their requests for alms that they would threaten those who refused them with "st. anthony's fire;" and that timid people were in the habit of presenting them with fat pigs, in order to retain their goodwill. their pigs thus became numerous, and, as they were allowed to roam about for food, led to the proverb, "he will follow you like a st. anthony's pig." stow accounts for the number of these pigs in another way, by saying that when pigs were seized in the markets by the city officers, as ill-fed or unwholesome, the monks took possession of them, and tying a bell about their neck, allowed them to stroll about on the dunghills, until they became fit for food, when they were claimed for the convent. the merchant taylors, whose hall is very appropriately situated in threadneedle street, had their first licence as "linen armourers" granted by edward i. their first master, henry de ryall, was called their "pilgrim," as one that travelled for the whole company, and their wardens "purveyors of dress." their first charter is dated edward iii. richard ii. confirmed his grandfather's grants. from henry iv. they obtained a confirmatory charter by the name of the "master and wardens of the fraternity of st. john the baptist of london." henry vi. gave them the right of search and correction of abuses. the society was incorporated in the reign of edward iv., who gave them arms; and henry vii., being a member of the company, for their greater honour transformed them from tailors and linen armourers to merchant taylors, giving them their present acting charter, which afterwards received the confirmation and _inspeximus_ of five sovereigns--henry viii., edward vi., philip and mary, elizabeth, and james i. there is no doubt (says herbert) that merchant taylors were originally _bonâ fide_ cutters-out and makers-up of clothes, or dealers in and importers of cloth, having tenter-grounds in moorfields. the ancient london tailors made both men's and women's apparel, also soldiers' quilted surcoats, the padded lining of armour, and probably the trappings of war-horses. in the th year of edward iii. the taylors contributed £ towards the french wars, and in they sent six members to the common council, a number equalling (says herbert) the largest guilds, and they were reckoned the seventh company in precedence. in we find the merchant taylors and skinners disputing for precedence. the lord mayor decided they should take precedence alternately; and, further, most wisely and worshipfully decreed that each company should dine in the other's hall twice a year, on the vigil of corpus christi and the feast of st. john baptist--a laudable custom, which soon restored concord. in there is a precept from the mayor ordering that ten men of this company and ten men of the vintners' should ward each of the city gates every tenth day. in the company was required to provide and train men for arms. in the master and wardens are threatened by the mayor for not making the provision of gunpowder required of all the london companies. in the company had to furnish thirty-five armed men, as its quota for the queen's service against the dreaded spanish armada. in an interesting entry records stow (a tailor and member of the company) presenting his famous "annals" to the house, and receiving in consequence an annuity of £ per annum, eventually raised to £ . the company afterwards restored john stow's monument in the church of st. andrew undershaft. speed, also a tailor and member of the company, on the same principle, seems to have presented the society with valuable maps, for which, in , curtains were provided. in the company subscribed £ towards a pest-house, the plague then raging in the city, and the same year contributed £ s. towards six ships and a pinnace fitted out for her majesty's service. in the company contributed £ towards the £ , required from the london companies to welcome james i. and his danish queen to england. six triumphal arches were erected between fenchurch street and temple bar, that in fleet street being ninety feet high and fifty broad. decker and ben jonson furnished the speeches and songs for this pageant. june , , was one of the grandest days the company has ever known; for james i. and his son, prince henry, dined with the merchant taylors. it had been at first proposed to train some boys of merchant taylors' school to welcome the king, but ben jonson was finally invited to write an entertainment. the king and prince dined separately. the master presented the king with a purse of £ . "richard langley shewed him a role, wherein was registered the names of seaven kinges, one queene, seventeene princes and dukes, two dutchesses, one archbishoppe, one and thirtie earles, five countesses, one viscount, fourteene byshoppes, sixtie and sixe barons, two ladies, seaven abbots, seaven priors, and one sub-prior, omitting a great number of knights, esquires, &c., who had been free of that companie." the prince was then made a freeman, and put on the garland. there were twelve lutes (six in one window and six in another). "in the ayr betweene them" (or swung up above their heads) "was a gallant shippe triumphant, wherein was three menne like saylers, being eminent for voyce and skill, who in their severall songes were assisted and seconded by the cunning lutanists. there was also in the hall the musique of the cittie, and in the upper chamber the children of his majestie's chappell sang grace at the king's table; and also whilst the king sate at dinner john bull, doctor of musique, one of the organists of his majestie's chapell royall, being in a cittizen's cap and gowne, cappe and hood (_i.e._, as a liveryman), played most excellent melodie uppon a small payre of organes, placed there for that purpose onely." the king seems at this time to have scarcely recovered the alarm of the gunpowder plot; for the entries in the company's books show that there was great searching of rooms and inspection of walls, "to prevent villanie and danger to his majestie." the cost of this feast was more than £ , . the king's chamber was made by cutting a hole in the wall of the hall, and building a small room behind it. in (james i.), before a company's dinner, the names of the livery were called, and notice taken of the absent. then prayer was said, every one kneeling, after which the names of benefactors and their "charitable and godly devices" were read, also the ordinances, and the orders for the grammar-school in st. laurence pountney. then followed the dinner, to which were invited the assistants and the ladies, and old masters' wives and wardens' wives, the preacher, the schoolmaster, the wardens' substitutes, and the humble almsmen of the livery. sometimes, as in , the whole livery was invited. the kindness and charity of the company are strongly shown in an entry of may , , when john churchman, a past master, received a pension of £ per annum. with true consideration, they allowed him to wear his bedesman's gown without a badge, and did not require him to appear in the hall with the other pensioners. all that was required was that he should attend divine service and pray for the prosperity of the company, and share his house with roger silverwood, clerk of the bachellors' company. gifts to the company seem to have been numerous. thus we have ( ) richard dove's gift of twenty gilt spoons, marked with a dove; ( ) a basin and ewer, value £ s., gift of thomas medlicott; ( ) a standing cup, value marks, from murphy corbett; same year, seven pictures for the parlour, from mr. john vernon. in the civil war was brewing, and the mayor ordered the company to provide (in their garden) forty barrels of powder and hundredweight of metal and bullets. they had at this time in their armoury forty muskets and rests, forty muskets and headpieces, twelve round muskets, forty corselets with headpieces, seventy pikes, swords, and twenty-three halberts. the same year they lent £ , towards the maintenance of the king's northern army. in the procession on the return of charles i. from scotland, the merchant taylors seem to have taken a very conspicuous part. thirty-four of the gravest, tallest, and most comely of the company, apparelled in velvet plush or satin, with chains of gold, each with a footman with two staff-torches, met the lord mayor and aldermen outside the city wall, near moorfields, and accompanied them to guildhall, and afterwards escorted the king from guildhall to his palace. the footmen wore ribands of the colour of the company, and pendants with the company's coat-of-arms. the company's standing extended feet. there stood the livery in their best gowns and hoods, with their banners and streamers. "eight handsome, tall, and able men" attended the king at dinner. this was the last honour shown the faithless king by the citizens of london. the next entries are about arms, powder, and fire-engines, the defacing superstitious pictures, and the setting up the arms of the commonwealth. in the company was so impoverished by the frequent forced loans, that they had been obliged to sell part of their rental (£ per annum); yet at the same date the generous company seem to have given the poet ogilvy £ s. d., he having presented them with bound copies of his translations of virgil and Æsop into english metre. in the boys of merchant taylors' school acted in the company's hall beaumont and fletcher's comedy of _love's pilgrimage_. in the duke of york, as captain-general of the artillery, was entertained by the artillerymen at merchant taylors' hall. it was supposed that the banquet was given to test the duke's popularity and to discomfit the protestants and exclusionists. after a sermon at bow church, the artillerymen ( ) mustered at dinner. many zealous protestants, rather than dine with a popish duke, tore up their tickets or gave them to porters and mechanics; and as the duke returned along cheapside, the people shouted, "no pope, no pope! no papist, no papist!" in the company ordered a portrait of mr. vernon, one of their benefactors, to be hung up in st. michael's church, cornhill. in they let their hall and rooms to the east india company for a meeting; and in they let a room to the south sea company for the same purpose. in , when the lord mayor visited the king of denmark, the company's committee decided, "there should be no breakfast at the hall, _nor pipes nor tobacco in the barge_ as usual, on lord mayor's day." mr. herbert thinks that this is the last instance of a lord mayor sending a precept to a city company, though this is by no means certain. in , mr. clarkson, an assistant, for having given the company the picture, still extant, of henry vii. delivering his charter to the merchant taylors, was presented with a silver waiter, value £ . for the searching and measuring cloth, the company kept a "silver yard," that weighed thirty-six ounces, and was graven with the company's arms. with this measure they attended bartholomew fair yearly, and an annual dinner took place on the occasion. the livery hoods seem finally, in , to have settled down to scarlet and puce, the gowns to blue. the merchant taylors' company, though not the first in city precedence, ranks more royal and noble personages amongst its members than any other company. at king james's visit, before mentioned, no fewer than twenty-two earls and lords, besides knights, esquires, and foreign ambassadors, were enrolled. before , the company had granted the freedom to ten kings, three princes, twenty-seven bishops, twenty-six dukes, forty-seven earls, and sixteen lord mayors. the company is specially proud of three illustrious members--sir john hawkwood, a great leader of italian condottieri, who fought for the dukes of milan, and was buried with honour in the duomo at florence; sir ralph blackwell, the supposed founder of blackwell hall, and one of hawkwood's companions at arms; and sir william fitzwilliam, lord high admiral to henry viii., and earl of southampton. he left to the merchant taylors his best standing cup, "in friendly remembrance of him for ever." they also boast of sir william craven, ancestor of the earls of craven, who came up to london a poor yorkshire lad, and was bound apprentice to a draper. his eldest son fought for gustavus adolphus, and is supposed to have secretly married the unfortunate queen of bohemia, whom he had so faithfully served. [illustration: ground plan of the modern church of st. martin outwich. (_from a measured drawing by mr. w.g. smith, ._) a. monument: edward edwards, . b. ancient canopied monument: "pemberton," no date. c. monument: cruickshank, . d. monuments: simpson, ; ellis, . e. monument: ellis, . f. monument: simpson, . g. monument: rose, . h. monuments: atkinson, ; ellis, . j. monument: richard stapler. k. monument: teesdale, . l, l. stairs to gallery above. m. very ancient effigy of founder, st. martin de oteswich. n. reading desk. o. pulpit. p. altar. q. font. r. vestry. ] the hall in threadneedle street originally belonged to a worshipful gentleman named edmund crepin. the company moved there in (edward iii.) from the old hall, which was behind the "red lion," in basing lane, cheapside, an executor of the outwich family leaving them the advowson of st. martin outwich, and seventeen shops. the company built seven almshouses near the hall in the reign of henry iv. the original mansion of crepin probably at this time gave way to a new hall, and to which now, for the first time, were attached the almshouses mentioned. both these piles of building are shown in the ancient plan of st. martin outwich, preserved in the church vestry, and which was taken by william goodman in . the hall, as there drawn, is a high building, consisting of a ground floor and three upper storeys. it has a central pointed-arched gate of entrance, and is lighted in front by nine large windows, exclusive of three smaller attic windows, and at the east end by seven. the roof is lofty and pointed, and is surmounted by a louvre or lantern, with a vane. the almshouses form a small range of cottage-like buildings, and are situate between the hall and a second large building, which adjoins the church, and bears some resemblance to an additional hall or chapel. it appears to rise alternately from one to two storeys high. in the hall was wainscoted instead of whitewashed; and in it was paved with red tile, rushes or earthen floors having "been found inconvenient, and oftentimes noisome." at the great fire the company's plate was melted into a lump of two hundred pounds' weight. in the reign of edward vi., when there was an inquiry into property devoted to superstitious uses, the company had been maintaining twenty-three chantry priests. [illustration: march of the archers (_see page _).] the modern merchant taylors' hall (says herbert) is a spacious but irregular edifice of brick. the front exhibits an arched portal, consisting of an arched pediment, supported on columns of the composite order, with an ornamental niche above; in the pediment are the company's arms. the hall itself is a spacious and handsome apartment, having at the lower end a stately screen of the corinthian order, and in the upper part a very large mahogany table thirty feet long. the sides of the hall have numerous emblazoned shields of masters' arms, and behind the master's seat are inscribed in golden letters the names of the different sovereigns, dukes, earls, lords spiritual and temporal, &c., who have been free of this community. in the drawing-room are full-length portraits of king william and queen mary, and other sovereigns; and in the court and other rooms are half-lengths of henry viii. and charles ii., of tolerable execution, besides various other portraits, amongst which are those of sir thomas white, lord mayor in , the estimable founder of st. john's college, cambridge, and sir thomas rowe, lord mayor in , and mr. clarkson's picture of henry vii. presenting the company with their incorporation charter. in this painting the king is represented seated on his throne, and delivering the charter to the master, wardens, and court of assistants of the company. his attendants are archbishop warham, the chancellor, and fox, bishop of winchester, lord privy seal, on his right hand; and on his left, robert willoughby, lord broke, then lord steward of the household. in niches are shown the statues of edward iii. and john of gaunt, the king's ancestors. in the foreground the clerk of the company is exhibiting the roll with the names of the kings, &c., who were free of this company. in the background are represented the banners of the company and of the city of london. the yeomen of the guard, at the entrance of the palace, close the view. on the staircase are likewise pictures of the following lord mayors, merchant taylors:--sir william turner, ; sir p. ward, ; sir william pritchard, ; and sir john salter, . the interior of the "new hall, or taylors' inne," was adorned with costly tapestry, or arras, representing the history of st. john the baptist. it had a screen, supporting a silver image of that saint in a tabernacle, or, according to an entry of , "an ymage of st. john gilt, in a tabernacle gilt." the hall windows were painted with armorial bearings; the floor was regularly strewed with clean rushes; from the ceiling hung silk flags and streamers; and the hall itself was furnished, when needful, with tables on tressels, covered on feast days with splendid table linen, and glittering with plate. the merchant taylors have for their armorial ensigns--argent, a tent royal between two parliament robes; gules, lined ermine, on a chief azure, a lion of england. crest--a holy lamb, in glory proper. supporters--two camels, or. motto--"concordia parvæ res crescunt." the stained glass windows of the old st. martin outwich, as engraven in wilkinson's history of that church, contain a representation of the original arms, granted by clarencieux in . they differ from the present (granted in ), the latter having a lion instead of the holy lamb (which is in the body of the first arms), and which latter is now their crest. one of the most splendid sights at this hall in the earlier times would have been (says herbert), of course, when the company received the high honour of enrolling king henry vii. amongst their members; and subsequently to which, "he sat openly among them in a gown of crimson velvet on his shoulders," says strype, "_à la mode de londres_, upon their solemn feast day, in the hall of the said company." from merchant taylors' hall began the famous cavalcade of the archers, under their leader, as duke of shoreditch, in , consisting of , archers, sumptuously apparelled, whereof wore chains of gold about their necks. this splendid company was guarded by whifflers and billmen, to the number of , , besides pages and footmen, who marched through broad street (the residence of the duke their captain). they continued their march through moorfields, by finsbury, to smithfield, where, after having performed their several evolutions, they shot at the target for glory. the hall of commerce, existing some years ago in threadneedle street, was begun in by mr. edward moxhay, a speculative biscuit-baker, on the site of the old french church. mr. moxhay had been a shoemaker, but he suddenly started as a rival to the celebrated leman, in gracechurch street. he was an amateur architect of talent, and it was said at the time, probably unjustly, that the building originated in moxhay's vexation at the gresham committee rejecting his design for a new royal exchange. he opened his great commercial news-room two years before the exchange was finished, and while merchants were fretting at the delay, intending to make the hall a mercantile centre, to the annihilation of lloyd's, the baltic, garraway's, the jerusalem, and the north and south american coffee-houses. £ , were laid out. there was a grand bas-relief on the front by mr. watson, a young sculptor of promise, and there was an inaugurating banquet. the annual subscription of £ s. soon dwindled to £ s. d. there was a reading-room, and a room where commission agents could exhibit their samples. wool sales were held there, and there was an auction for railway shares. there were also rooms for meetings of creditors and private arbitrations, and rooms for the deposit of deeds. a describer of threadneedle street in particularly mentions amongst the few beggars the creole flower-girls, the decayed ticket-porters, and cripples on go-carts who haunted the neighbourhood, a poor, shrivelled old woman, who sold fruit on a stall at a corner of one of the courts. she was the wife of daniel good, the murderer. the baltic coffee house, in threadneedle street, used to be the rendezvous of tallow, oil, hemp, and seed merchants; indeed, of all merchants and brokers connected with the russian trade. there was a time when there was as much gambling in tallow as in consols, but the breaking down of the russian monopoly by the increased introduction of south american and australian tallow has done away with this. mr. richard thornton and mr. jeremiah harman were the two monarchs of the russian trade forty years ago. the public sale-room was in the upper part of the house. the baltic was superintended by a committee of management. that famous free school of the city, st. anthony's, stood in threadneedle street, where the french church afterwards stood, and where the bank of london now stands. it was originally a jewish synagogue, granted by henry v. to the brotherhood of st. anthony of vienna. a hospital was afterwards built there for a master, two priests, a schoolmaster, and twelve poor men. the free school seems to have been built in the reign of henry vi., who gave five presentations to eton and five oxford scholarships, at the rate of ten francs a week each, to the institution. henry viii., that arch spoliator, annexed the school to the collegiate church of st. george's, windsor. the proctors of st. anthony's used to wander about london collecting "the benevolence of charitable persons towards the building." the school had great credit in elizabeth's reign, and was a rival of st. paul's. that inimitable coxcomb, laneham, in his description of the great visit of queen elizabeth to the earl of leicester, at kenilworth castle, , a book which sir walter scott has largely availed himself of, says--"yee mervail perchance," saith he, "to see me so bookish. let me tel you in few words. i went to school, forsooth, both at polle's and also at st. antonie's; (was) in the fifth forme, past esop's fables, readd terence, _vos isthæc intro auferte_; and began with my virgil, _tityre tu patulæ_. i could say my rules, could construe and pars with the best of them," &c. in elizabeth's reign "the anthony's pigs," as the "paul's pigeons" used to call the threadneedle boys, used to have an annual breaking-up day procession, with streamers, flags, and beating drums, from mile end to austin friars. the french or walloon church established here by edward vi. seems, in , to have been the scene of constant wrangling among the pastors, as to whether their disputes about celebrating holidays should be settled by "colloquies" of the foreign churches in london, or the french churches of all england. at this school were educated the great sir thomas more, and that excellent archbishop of canterbury, the zealous whitgift (the friend of beza, the reformer), whose only fault seems to have been his persecutions of the genevese clergy whom elizabeth disliked. next in importance to lloyd's for the general information afforded to the public, was certainly the north and south american coffee house (formerly situated in threadneedle street), fronting the thoroughfare leading to the entrance of the royal exchange. this establishment was the complete centre for american intelligence. there was in this, as in the whole of the leading city coffee-houses, a subscription room devoted to the use of merchants and others frequenting the house, who, by paying an annual sum, had the right of attendance to read the general news of the day, and make reference to the several files of papers, which were from every quarter of the globe. it was here also that first information could be obtained of the arrival and departure of the fleet of steamers, packets, and masters engaged in the commerce of america, whether in relation to the minor ports of montreal and quebec, or the larger ones of boston, halifax, and new york. the room the subscribers occupied had a separate entrance to that which was common to the frequenters of the eating and drinking part of the house, and was most comfortably and neatly kept, being well, and in some degree elegantly furnished. the heads of the chief american and continental firms were on the subscription list; and the representatives of baring's, rothschild's, and the other large establishments celebrated for their wealth and extensive mercantile operations, attended the rooms as regularly as 'change, to see and hear what was going on, and gossip over points of business. at the north-east extremity of threadneedle street is the once famous south sea house. the back, formerly the excise office, afterwards the south sea company's office, thence called the old south sea house, was consumed by fire in . the building in threadneedle street, in which the company's affairs were formerly transacted, is a magnificent structure of brick and stone, about a quadrangle, supported by stone pillars of the tuscan order, which form a fine piazza. the front looks into threadneedle street, the walls being well built and of great thickness. the several offices were admirably disposed; the great hall for sales, the dining-room, galleries, and chambers were equally beautiful and convenient. under these were capacious arched vaults, to guard what was valuable from the chances of fire. the south sea company was originated by swift's friend, harley, earl of oxford, in the year . the new tory government was less popular than the whig one it had displaced, and public credit had fallen. harley wishing to provide for the discharge of ten millions of the floating debt, guaranteed six per cent. to a company who agreed to take it on themselves. the £ , due for the annual interest was raised by duties on wines, silks, tobacco, &c.; and the monopoly of the trade to the south seas granted to the ambitious new company, which was incorporated by act of parliament. to the enthusiastic company the gold of mexico and the silver of peru seemed now obtainable by the ship-load. it was reported that spain was willing to open four ports in chili and peru. the negotiations, however, with philip v. of spain led to little. the company obtained only the privilege of supplying the spanish colonies with negro slaves for thirty years, and sending an annual vessel to trade; but even of this vessel the spanish king was to have one-fourth of the profits, and a tax of five per cent. on the residue. the first vessel did not sail till , and the year after a rupture with spain closed the trade. in , the king alluding to his wish to reduce the national debt, the south sea company at once petitioned parliament (in rivalry with the bank) that their capital stock might be increased from ten millions to twelve, and offered to accept five, instead of six per cent. upon the whole amount. their proposals were accepted. the success of law's mississippi scheme, in , roused the south sea directory to emulation. they proposed to liquidate the public debt by reducing the various funds into one. january , , a committee met on the subject. the south sea company offered to melt every kind of stock into a single security. the debt amounted to £ , , at five per cent. for seven years, and afterwards at four per cent, for which they would pay £ , , . the government approved of the scheme, but the bank of england opposed it, and offered £ , , for the privilege. the south sea shareholders were not to be outdone, and ultimately increased their terms to £ , , . in the end they remained the sole bidders; though some idea prevailed of sharing the advantage between the two companies, till sir john blunt exclaimed, "no, sirs, we'll never divide the child!" the preference thus given excited a positive frenzy in town and country. on the nd of june their stock rose to ; it quickly reached , , and several of the principal managers were dubbed baronets for their "great services." mysterious rumours of vast treasures to be acquired in the south seas got abroad, and per cent. was boldly promised. "the scheme," says smollett, "was first projected by sir john blount, who had been bred a scrivener, and was possessed of all the cunning, plausibility, and boldness requisite for such an undertaking. he communicated his plan to mr. aislabie, the chancellor of the exchequer, and a secretary of state. he answered every objection, and the project was adopted." sir robert walpole alone opposed the bill in the house, and with clear-sighted sense (though the stock had risen from to in one day) denounced "the dangerous practice of stock-jobbing, and the general infatuation, which must," he said, "end in general ruin." rumours of free trade with spain pushed the shares up to , and the bill passed the commons by a majority of against . in the other house, peers were against it, and for it. then the madness fairly began. stars and garters mingled with squabbling jews, and great ladies pawned their jewels in order to gamble in the alley. the shares sinking a little, they were revived by lying rumours that gibraltar and port mahon were going to be exchanged for peruvian sea-ports, so that the company would be allowed to send out whole fleets of ships. government, at last alarmed, began too late to act. on july the king published a proclamation denouncing eighteen petitions for letters patent and eighty-six bubble companies, of which the following are samples:-- for sinking pits and smelting lead ore in derbyshire. for making glass bottles and other glass. for a wheel for perpetual motion. capital £ , , . for improving of gardens. for insuring and increasing children's fortunes. for entering and loading goods at the custom house; and for negotiating business for merchants. for carrying on a woollen manufacture in the north of england. for importing walnut-trees from virginia. capital £ , , . for making manchester stuffs of thread and cotton. for making joppa and castile soap. for improving the wrought iron and steel manufactures of this kingdom. capital £ , , . for dealing in lace, hollands, cambrics, lawns, &c. capital £ , , . for trading in and improving certain commodities of the produce of this kingdom, &c. capital £ , , . for supplying the london markets with cattle. for making looking-glasses, coach-glasses, &c. capital £ , , . for taking up ballast. for buying and fitting out ships to suppress pirates. for the importation of timber from wales. capital £ , , . for rock-salt. for the transmutation of quicksilver into a malleable, fine metal. one of the most famous bubbles was "puckle's machine company," for discharging round and square cannon-balls and bullets, and making a total revolution in the art of war. "but the most absurd and preposterous of all," says charles mackay, in his "history of the delusion," "and which showed more completely than any other the utter madness of the people, was one started by an unknown adventurer, entitled, _'a company for carrying on an undertaking of great advantage, but nobody to know what it is_.' were not the fact stated by scores of credible witnesses, it would be impossible to believe that any person could have been duped by such a project. the man of genius who essayed this bold and successful inroad upon public credulity merely stated in his prospectus that the required capital was £ , , in , shares of £ each, deposit £ per share. each subscriber paying his deposit would be entitled to £ per annum per share. how this immense profit was to be obtained he did not condescend to inform them at the time, but promised that in a month full particulars should be duly announced, and a call made for the remaining £ of the subscription. next morning, at nine o'clock, this great man opened an office in cornhill. crowds of people beset his door; and when he shut up at three o'clock he found that no less than , shares had been subscribed for, and the deposits paid. he was thus in five hours the winner of £ , . he was philosopher enough to be contented with his venture, and set off the same evening for the continent. he was never heard of again." another fraud that was very successful was that of the "globe permits," as they were called. they were nothing more than square pieces of playing cards, on which was the impression of a seal, in wax, bearing the sign of the "globe tavern," in the neighbourhood of exchange alley, with the inscription of "sail-cloth permits." the possessors enjoyed no other advantage from them than permission to subscribe at some future time to a new sail-cloth manufactory, projected by one who was then known to be a man of fortune, but who was afterwards involved in the peculation and punishment of the south sea directors. these permits sold for as much as sixty guineas in the alley. during the infatuation (says smollett), luxury, vice, and profligacy increased to a shocking degree; the adventurers, intoxicated by their imaginary wealth, pampered themselves with the rarest dainties and the most costly wines. they purchased the most sumptuous furniture, equipage, and apparel, though with no taste or discernment. their criminal passions were indulged to a scandalous excess, and their discourse evinced the most disgusting pride, insolence, and ostentation. they affected to scoff at religion and morality, and even to set heaven at defiance. a journalist of the time writes: "our south sea equipages increase daily; the city ladies buy south sea jewels, hire south sea maids, take new country south sea houses; the gentlemen set up south sea coaches, and buy south sea estates. they neither examine the situation, the nature or quality of the soil, or price of the purchase, only the annual rent and title; for the rest, they take all by the lump, and pay forty or fifty years' purchase!" by the end of may, the whole stock had risen to . it then, in four days, made a tremendous leap, and rose to . it was now thought impossible that it could rise higher, and many prudent persons sold out to make sure of their spoil. many of these were noblemen about to accompany the king to hanover. the buyers were so few on june rd, that stock fell at once, like a plummet, from to . the directors ordering their agents to still buy, confidence was restored, and the stock rose to . by august, the stock culminated at , per cent., or, as dr. mackay observes, "the bubble was then full blown." the reaction soon commenced. many government annuitants complained of the directors' partiality in making out the subscription lists. it was soon reported that sir john blunt, the chairman, and several directors had sold out. the stock fell all through august, and on september nd was quoted at only. things grew alarming. the directors, to restore confidence, summoned a meeting of the corporation at merchant taylors' hall. cheapside was blocked by the crowd. mr. secretary craggs urged the necessity of union; and mr. hungerford said the company had done more for the nation than crown, pulpit, and bench. it had enriched the whole nation. the duke of portland gravely expressed his wonder that any one could be dissatisfied. but the public were not to be gulled; that same evening the stock fell to , and the next day to . it soon got so low as . the ebb tide was running fast. "thousands of families," wrote mr. broderick to lord chancellor middleton, "will be reduced to beggary. the consternation is inexpressible, the rage beyond description." the bank was pressed to circulate the south sea bonds, but as the panic increased they fought off. several goldsmiths and bankers fled. the sword blade company, the chief cashiers of the south sea company, stopped payment. king george returned in haste from hanover, and parliament was summoned to meet in december. [illustration: the old south sea house (_see page _). _from a print of the period._] in the first debate the enemies of the south sea company were most violent. lord molesworth said he should be satisfied to see the contrivers of the scheme tied in sacks and thrown into the thames. honest shippen, whom even walpole could not bribe, looking fiercely in mr. secretary craggs' face, said "there were other men in high station who were no less guilty than the directors." mr. craggs, rising in wrath, declared he was ready to give satisfaction to any one in the house, or out of it, and this unparliamentary language he had afterwards to explain away. ultimately a second committee was appointed, with power to send for persons, papers, and records. the directors were ordered to lay before the house a full account of all their proceedings, and were forbidden to leave the kingdom for a twelvemonth. mr. walpole laid before a committee of the whole house his scheme for the restoration of public credit, which was, in substance, to ingraft nine millions of south sea stock into the bank of england, and the same sum into the east india company, upon certain conditions. the plan was favourably received by the house. after some few objections it was ordered that proposals should be received from the two great corporations. they were both unwilling to lend their aid, and the plan met with a warm but fruitless opposition at the general courts summoned for the purpose of deliberating upon it. they, however, ultimately agreed upon the terms on which they would consent to circulate the south sea bonds; and their report being presented to the committee, a bill was then brought in, under the superintendence of mr. walpole, and safely carried through both houses of parliament. in the house of lords, lord stanhope said that every farthing possessed by the criminals, whether directors or not, ought to be confiscated, to make good the public losses. [illustration: london stone. (_see page ._)] the wrath of the house of commons soon fell quick and terrible as lightning on two members of the ministry, craggs, and mr. aislabie, chancellor of the exchequer. it was ordered, on the st of january, that all south sea brokers should lay before the house a full account of all stock bought or sold by them to any officers of the treasury or exchequer since michaelmas, . aislabie instantly resigned his office, and absented himself from parliament, and five of the south sea directors (including mr. gibbon, the grandfather of the historian) were ordered into the custody of the black rod. the next excitement was the flight of knight, the treasurer of the company, with all his books and implicating documents, and a reward of £ , was offered for his apprehension. the same night the commons ordered the doors of the house to be locked, and the keys laid on the table. general ross, one of the members of the select committee, then informed the house that there had been already discovered a plot of the deepest villany and fraud that hell had ever contrived to ruin a nation. four directors, members of the house--_i.e._, sir robert chaplin, sir theodore janssen, mr. sawbridge, and mr. f. eyles--were expelled the house, and taken into the custody of the serjeant-at-arms. sir john blunt, another director, was also taken into custody. this man, mentioned by pope in his "epistle to lord bathurst," had been a scrivener, famed for his religious observances and his horror of avarice. he was examined at the bar of the house of lords, but refused to criminate himself. the duke of wharton, vexed at this prudent silence of the criminal, accused earl stanhope of encouraging this taciturnity of the witness. the earl became so excited in his return speech, that it brought on an apoplectic fit, of which he died the next day, to the great grief of his royal master, george i. the committee of secrecy stated that in some of the books produced before them, false and fictitious entries had been made; in others there were entries of money, with blanks for the names of the stockholders. there were frequent erasures and alterations, and in some of the books leaves had been torn out. they also found that some books of great importance had been destroyed altogether, and that some had been taken away or secreted. they discovered, moreover, that before the south sea act was passed there was an entry in the company's books of the sum of £ , , upon account of stock stated to have been sold to the amount of £ , . this stock was all fictitious, and had been disposed of with a view to promote the passing of the bill. it was noted as sold on various days, and at various prices, from to per cent. being surprised to see so large an amount disposed of, at a time when the company were not empowered to increase their capital, the committee determined to investigate most carefully the whole transaction. the governor, sub-governor, and several directors were brought before them and examined rigidly. they found that at the time these entries were made the company were not in possession of such a quantity of stock, having in their own right only a small quantity, not exceeding £ , at the utmost. they further discovered that this amount of stock was to be esteemed as taken or holden by the company for the benefit of the pretended purchasers, although no mutual agreement was made for its delivery or acceptance at any certain time. no money was paid down, nor any deposit or security whatever given to the company by the supposed purchasers; so that if the stock had fallen, as might have been expected had the act not passed, they would have sustained no loss. if, on the contrary, the price of stock advanced (as it actually did by the success of the scheme), the difference by the advanced price was to be made good by them. accordingly, after the passing of the act, the account of stock was made up and adjusted with mr. knight, and the pretended purchasers were paid the difference out of the company's cash. this fictitious stock, which had chiefly been at the disposal of sir john blunt, mr. gibbon, and mr. knight, was distributed among several members of the government and their connections, by way of bribe, to facilitate the passing of the bill. to the earl of sunderland was assigned £ , of this stock; to the duchess of kendal, £ , ; to the countess of platen, £ , ; to her two nieces, £ , ; to mr. secretary craggs, £ , ; to mr. charles stanhope (one of the secretaries of the treasury), £ , ; to the sword blade company, £ , . it also appeared that mr. stanhope had received the enormous sum of £ , , as the difference in the price of some stock, through the hands of turner, caswall, and co., but that his name had been partly erased from their books, and altered to stangape. the punishment fell heavy on the chief offenders, who, after all, had only shared in the general lust for gold. mr. charles stanhope, a great gainer, managed to escape by the influence of the chesterfield family, and the mob threatened vengeance. aislabie, who had made some £ , , was expelled the house, sent to the tower, and compelled to devote his estate to the relief of the sufferers. sir george caswall was expelled the house, and ordered to refund £ , . the day he went to the tower, the mob lit bonfires and danced round them for joy. when by a general whip of the whigs the earl of sunderland was acquitted, the mob grew menacing again. that same day the elder craggs died of apoplexy. the report was that he had poisoned himself, but excitement and the death of a son, one of the secretaries of the treasury, were the real causes. his enormous fortune of a million and a half was scattered among the sufferers. eventually the directors were fined £ , , , each man being allowed a small modicum of his fortune. sir john blunt was only allowed £ , out of his fortune of £ , ; sir john fellows was allowed £ , out of £ , ; sir theodore janssen, £ , out of £ , ; sir john lambert, £ , out of £ , . one director, named gregsley, was treated with especial severity, because he was reported to have once declared he would feed his carriage-horses off gold; another, because years before he had been mixed up with some harmless but unsuccessful speculation. according to gibbon the historian, it was the tory directors who were stripped the most unmercifully. "the next consideration of the legislature," says charles mackay, "after the punishment of the directors, was to restore public credit. the scheme of walpole had been found insufficient, and had fallen into disrepute. a computation was made of the whole capital stock of the south sea company at the end of the year . it was found to amount to £ , , , of which the stock allotted to all the proprietors only reached £ , , . the remainder of £ , , belonged to the company in their corporate capacity, and was the profit they had made by the national delusion. upwards of £ , , of this was taken from the company, and divided among the proprietors and subscribers generally, making a dividend of about £ s. d. per cent. this was a great relief. it was further ordered that such persons as had borrowed money from the south sea company upon stock actually transferred and pledged, at the time of borrowing, to or for the use of the company, should be free from all demands upon payment of ten per cent. of the sums so borrowed. they had lent about £ , , in this manner, at a time when prices were unnaturally raised; and they now received back £ , , , when prices had sunk to their ordinary level." a volume (says another writer) might be collected of anecdotes connected with this fatal speculation. a tradesman at bath, who had invested his only remaining fortune in this stock, finding it had fallen from , to , left bath with an intention to sell out; on his arrival in london it had fallen to . he thought the price too low, sanguinely hoped that it would re-ascend, still deferred his purpose, and lost his all. the duke of chandos had embarked £ , in this project; the duke of newcastle strongly advised his selling the whole, or at least a part, with as little delay as possible; but this salutary advice he delayed to take, confidently anticipating the gain of at least half a million, and through rejecting his friend's counsel, he lost the whole. some were, however, more fortunate. the guardians of sir gregory page turner, then a minor, had purchased stock for him very low, and sold it out when it had reached its maximum, to the amount of £ , . with this large sum sir gregory built a fine mansion at blackheath, and purchased acres of land for a park. two maiden sisters, whose stock had accumulated to £ , , sold out when the south sea stock was at . the broker whom they employed advised them to re-invest in navy bills, which were at the time at a discount of twenty-five per cent.; they took his advice, and two years afterwards received their money at par. even the poets did not escape. gay (says dr. johnson, in his "lives of the poets") had a present from young craggs of some south sea stock, and once supposed himself to be the master of £ , . his friends, especially arbuthnot, persuaded him to sell his share, but he dreamed of dignity and splendour, and could not bear to obstruct his own fortune. he was then importuned to sell as much as would purchase a hundred a year for life, "which," said fenton, "will make you sure of a clean shirt and a shoulder of mutton every day." this counsel was rejected; the profit and principal were both lost, and gay sunk so low under the calamity that his life for a time became in danger. pope, always eager for money, was also dabbling in the scheme, but it is uncertain whether he made money or lost by it. lady mary wortley montague was a loser. when sir isaac newton was asked when the bubble would break, he said, with all his calculations he had never learned to calculate the madness of the people. prior declared, "i am lost in the south sea. the roaring of the waves and the madness of the people are justly put together. it is all wilder than st. anthony's dream, and the bagatelle is more solid than anything that has been endeavoured here this year." in the full heat of it, the duchess of ormond wrote to swift: "the king adopts the south sea, and calls it his beloved child; though perhaps, you may say, if he loves it no better than his son, it may not be saying much; but he loves it as much as he loves the duchess of kendal, and that is saying a good deal. i wish it may thrive, for some of my friends are deep in it. i wish you were too." swift, cold and stern, escaped the madness, and even denounced in the following verses the insanity that had seized the times:-- "there is a gulf where thousands fell, here all the bold adventurers came; a narrow sound, though deep as hell-- change alley is the dreadful name. "subscribers here by thousands float, and jostle one another down; each paddling in his leaky boat, and here they fish for gold and drown. "now buried in the depths below, now mounted up to heaven again, they reel and stagger to and fro, at their wit's end, like drunken men." budgell, pope's barking enemy, destroyed himself after his losses in this south sea scheme, and a well-known man of the day called "tom of ten thousand" lost his reason. charles lamb, in his "elia," has described the south sea house in his own delightful way. "reader," says the poet clerk, "in thy passage from the bank--where thou hast been receiving thy half-yearly dividends (supposing thou art a lean annuitant like myself)--to the 'flower pot,' to secure a place for dalston, or shacklewell, or some other shy suburban retreat northerly--didst thou never observe a melancholy-looking, handsome brick and stone edifice, to the left, where threadneedle street abuts upon bishopsgate? i dare say thou hast often admired its magnificent portals, ever gaping wide, and disclosing to view a grave court, with cloisters and pillars, with few or no traces of goers-in or comers-out--a desolation something like balclutha's.[ ] this was once a house of trade--a centre of busy interests. the throng of merchants was here--the quick pulse of gain--and here some forms of business are still kept up, though the soul has long since fled. here are still to be seen stately porticoes; imposing staircases; offices roomy as the state apartments in palaces--deserted, or thinly peopled with a few straggling clerks; the still more sacred interiors of court and committee rooms, with venerable faces of beadles, door-keepers; directors seated in form on solemn days (to proclaim a dead dividend), at long worm-eaten tables, that have been mahogany, with tarnished gilt-leather coverings, supporting massy silver inkstands, long since dry; the oaken wainscots hung with pictures of deceased governors and sub-governors, of queen anne, and the two first monarchs of the brunswick dynasty; huge charts, which subsequent discoveries have antiquated; dusty maps of mexico, dim as dreams; and soundings of the bay of panama! the long passages hung with buckets, appended, in idle row to walls, whose substance might defy any, short of the last conflagration; with vast ranges of cellarage under all, where dollars and pieces-of-eight once lay, 'an unsunned heap,' for mammon to have solaced his solitary heart withal--long since dissipated, or scattered into air at the blast of the breaking of that famous bubble. "peace to the manes of the bubble! silence and destitution are upon thy walls, proud house, for a memorial! situated as thou art in the very heart of stirring and living commerce, amid the fret and fever of speculation--with the bank, and the 'change, and the india house about thee, in the hey-day of present prosperity, with their important faces, as it were, insulting thee, their _poor neighbour out of business_--to the idle and merely contemplative--to such as me, old house! there is a charm in thy quiet, a cessation, a coolness from business, an indolence almost cloistral, which is delightful! with what reverence have i paced thy great bare rooms and courts at eventide! they spake of the past; the shade of some dead accountant, with visionary pen in ear, would flit by me, stiff as in life." footnotes: [ ] "i passed by the walls of balclutha, and they were desolate." (ossian.) chapter xlviii. cannon street. london stone and jack cade--southwark bridge--old city churches--the salters' company's hall, and the salters' company's history--oxford house--salters' banquets--salters' hall chapel--a mysterious murder in cannon street--st. martin orgar--king william's statue--cannon street station. cannon street was originally called candlewick street, from the candle-makers who lived there. it afterwards became a resort of drapers. london stone, the old roman _milliarium_, or milestone, is now a mere rounded boulder, set in a stone case built into the outer southern wall of the church of st. swithin, cannon street. camden, in his "britannia," says--"the stone called london stone, from its situation in the centre of the longest diameter of the city, i take to have been a miliary, like that in the forum at rome, from whence all the distances were measured." camden's opinion, that from this stone the roman roads radiated, and that by it the distances were reckoned, seems now generally received. stow, who thinks that there was some legend of the early christians connected with it, says:--"on the south side of this high street (candlewick or cannon street), near unto the channel, is pitched upright a great stone, called london stone, fixed in the ground very deep, fastened with bars of iron, and otherwise so strongly set, that if carts do run against it through negligence, the wheels be broken and the stone itself unshaken. the cause why this stone was set there, the time when, or other memory is none." strype describes it in his day as already set in its case. "this stone, before the fire of london, was much worn away, and, as it were, but a stump remaining. but it is now, for the preservation of it, cased over with a new stone, handsomely wrought, cut hollow underneath, so as the old stone may be seen, the new one being over it, to shelter and defend the old venerable one." it stood formerly on the south side of cannon street, but was removed to the north, december th, . in it was again removed, as an obstruction, and, but for the praiseworthy interposition of a local antiquary, mr. thomas malden, a printer in sherborne lane, it would have been destroyed. this most interesting relic of roman london is that very stone which the arch-rebel jack cade struck with his bloody sword when he had stormed london bridge, and "now is mortimer lord of this city" were the words he uttered too confidently as he gave the blow. shakespeare, who perhaps wrote from tradition, makes him strike london stone with his staff:-- "_cade._ now is mortimer lord of this city. and here, sitting upon london stone, i charge and command that the conduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign. and now henceforward it shall be treason for any that calls me lord mortimer."--_shakespeare, second part of henry vi._, act iv., sc. . dryden, too, mentions this stone in a very fine passage of his fable of the "cock and the fox:"-- "the bees in arms drive headlong from the waxen cells in swarms. jack straw at london stone, with all his rout, struck not the city with so loud a shout." of the old denizens of this neighbourhood in henry viii.'s days, stow gives a very picturesque sketch in the following passage, where he says:--"the late earl of oxford, father to him that now liveth, hath been noted within these forty years to have ridden into this city, and so to his house by london stone, with eighty gentlemen in a livery of reading tawny, and chains of gold about their necks, before him, and one hundred tall yeomen in the like livery to follow him, without chains, but all having his cognizance of the blue boar embroidered on their left shoulder." a turning from cannon street leads us to southwark bridge. the cost of this bridge was computed at £ , , and the annual revenue was estimated at £ , . blackfriars bridge tolls amounted to a large annual sum; and it was supposed southwark might fairly claim about a third of it. great stress also was laid on the improvements that would ensue in the miserable streets about bankside and along the road to the king's bench. we need scarcely remind our readers that the bridge never answered, and was almost disused till the tolls were removed and it was thrown open to general traffic. "southwark bridge," says mr. timbs, "designed by john rennie, f.r.s., was built by a public company, and cost about £ , . it consists of three cast-iron arches; the centre feet span, and the two side arches feet each, about forty-two feet above the highest spring-tides; the ribs forming, as it were, a series of hollow masses, or voussoirs, similar to those of stone, a principle new in the construction of cast-iron bridges, and very successful. the whole of the segmental pieces and the braces are kept in their places by dovetailed sockets and long cast-iron wedges, so that bolts are unnecessary, although they were used during the construction of the bridge to keep the pieces in their places until the wedges had been driven. the spandrels are similarly connected, and upon them rests the roadway, of solid plates of cast-iron, joined by iron cement. the piers and abutments are of stone, founded upon timber platforms resting upon piles driven below the bed of the river. the masonry is tied throughout by vertical and horizontal bond-stones, so that the whole rests as one mass in the best position to resist the horizontal thrust. the first stone was laid by admiral lord keith, may rd, , the bill for erecting the bridge having been passed may th, . the iron-work (weight , tons) had been so well put together by the walkers of rotherham, the founders, and the masonry by the contractors, jolliffe and banks, that, when the work was finished, scarcely any sinking was discernible in the arches. from experiments made to ascertain the expansion and contraction between the extreme range of winter and summer temperature, it was found that the arch rose in the summer about one inch to one and a half inch. the works were commenced in , and the bridge was opened by lamp-light, march th, , as the clock of st. paul's cathedral tolled midnight. towards the middle of the western side of the bridge used to be a descent from the pavement to a steam-boat pier." mr. charles dickens, in one of the chapters of his "uncommercial traveller," has sketched, in his most exquisite manner, just such old city churches as we have in cannon street and its turnings. the dusty oblivion into which they are sinking, their past glory, their mouldy old tombs--everything he paints with the correctness of teniers and the finish of gerard dow. "there is," he says, "a pale heap of books in the corner of my pew, and while the organ, which is hoarse and sleepy, plays in such fashion that i can hear more of the rusty working of the stops than of any music, i look at the books, which are mostly bound in faded baize and stuff. they belonged, in , to the dowgate family. and who were they? jane comfort must have married young dowgate, and come into the family that way. young dowgate was courting jane comfort when he gave her her prayer-book, and recorded the presentation in the fly-leaf. if jane were fond of young dowgate, why did she die and leave the book here? perhaps at the rickety altar, and before the damp commandments, she, comfort, had taken him, dowgate, in a flush of youthful hope and joy; and perhaps it had not turned out in the long run as great a success as was expected. [illustration: the fourth salters' hall. (_see page ._)] "the opening of the service recalls my wandering thoughts. i then find to my astonishment that i have been, and still am, taking a strong kind of invisible snuff up my nose, into my eyes, and down my throat. i wink, sneeze, and cough. the clerk sneezes: the clergyman winks; the unseen organist sneezes and coughs (and probably winks); all our little party wink, sneeze, and cough. the snuff seems to be made of the decay of matting, wood, cloth, stone, iron, earth, and something else. is the something else the decay of dead citizens in the vaults below? as sure as death it is! not only in the cold, damp february day, do we cough and sneeze dead citizens, all through the service, but dead citizens have got into the very bellows of the organ, and half-choked the same. we stamp our feet to warm them, and dead citizens arise in heavy clouds. dead citizens stick upon the walls, and lie pulverised on the sounding-board over the clergyman's head, and when a gust of air comes, tumble down upon him. * * * * * "in the churches about mark lane there was a dry whiff of wheat; and i accidentally struck an airy sample of barley out of an aged hassock in one of them. from rood lane to tower street, and thereabouts, there was sometimes a subtle flavour of wine; sometimes of tea. one church, near mincing lane, smelt like a druggist's drawer. behind the monument, the service had a flavour of damaged oranges, which, a little further down the river, tempered into herrings, and gradually toned into a cosmopolitan blast of fish. in one church, the exact counterpart of the church in the 'rake's progress,' where the hero is being married to the horrible old lady, there was no speciality of atmosphere, until the organ shook a perfume of hides all over us from some adjacent warehouse. [illustration: cordwainers' hall. (_see page ._)] "the dark vestries and registries into which i have peeped, and the little hemmed-in churchyards that have echoed to my feet, have left impressions on my memory as distinct and quaint as any it has that way received. in all those dusty registers that the worms are eating, there is not a line but made some hearts leap, or some tears flow, in their day. still and dry now, still and dry! and the old tree at the window, with no room for its branches, has seen them all out. so with the tomb of the old master of the old company, on which it drips. his son restored it and died, his daughter restored it and died, and then he had been remembered long enough, and the tree took possession of him, and his name cracked out." the salters, who have anchored in cannon street, have had at least four halls before the present one. the first was in bread street, to be near their kinsmen, the fishmongers, in the old fish market of london, knightrider street. it is noticed, apparently, as a new building, in the will of thomas beamond, salter, , who devised to "henry bell and robert bassett, wardens of the fraternity and gild of the salters, of the body and blood of our lord jesus christ in the church of all saints, of bread street, london, and to the brothers and sisters of the same fraternity and gild, and their successors for ever, the land and ground where there was then lately erected a hall called salters' hall, and six mansions by him then newly erected upon the same ground, in bread street, in the parish of all saints." the last named were the company's almshouses. this hall was destroyed by fire in . the second hall, in bread street, had an almshouse adjoining, as stow tells us, "for poore decayed brethren." it was destroyed by fire in . this hall was afterwards used by parliamentary committees. there the means of raising new regiments was discussed, and there, in , the judges for a time sat. the third hall (and these records furnish interesting facts to the london topographer) was a mansion of the prior of tortington (sussex), near the east end of st. swithin's church, london stone. the salters purchased it, in , of captain george smith, and it was then called oxford house, or oxford place. it had been the residence of maister stapylton, a wealthy alderman. the house is a marked one in history, as at the back of it, according to stow, resided those bad guiding ministers of the miser king henry vii., empson and dudley, who, having cut a door into oxford house garden, used to meet there, like the two usurers in quintin matsys' picture, and suggest war taxes to each other under the leafy limes of the old garden. sir ambrose nicholas and sir john hart, both salters, kept their mayoralties here. the fourth hall, built after the great fire had made clear work of oxford house, was a small brick building, the entrance opening within an arcade of three arches springing from square fluted pillars. a large garden adjoined it, and next that was the salters' hall meeting house. the parlour was handsome, and there were a few original portraits. this hall, the clerk's house, with another at the gate of st. swithin's lane, were pulled down and sold in . the present hall was designed by mr. henry carr, and completed in . as a chartered company there is no record of the salters before the th year of edward iii., when liberties were granted them. in the th of edward iii. they sent members to the common council. richard ii. granted them a livery, but they were first incorporated in by elizabeth. henry viii. had granted them arms, and elizabeth a crest and supporters. the arms are:--chevron azure and gules, three covered salts, or, springing salt proper. on a helmet and torse, issuing out of a cloud argent, a sinister arm proper, holding a salt as the former. supporters, two otters argent plattée, gorged with ducal coronets, thereto a chain affixed and reflected, or; motto, "sal sapit omnia." "a short account of the salters' company," printed for private distribution, rejects the otters as supporters, in favour of ounces or small leopards, which latter, it states, have been adopted by the assistants, in the arms put up in their new hall; and it gives the following, "furnished by a london antiquary," as the salters' real supporters:--two ounces sable besante, gorged with crowns and chased gold. the salters claim to have received eight charters. the romans worked salt-pits in england, and salt-works are frequently mentioned in domesday book. rock or fossil salt, says herbert, was never worked in england till , when it was discovered in cheshire. the enormous use of salt fish in the catholic households of the middle ages brought wealth to the salters. in a pageant of , written by the poet peele, one clad like a sea-nymph presented the salter mayor (webb) with a rigged and manned pinnace, as he took barge to go to westminster. in the drapers' pageant of , when each of the twelve companies were represented by allegorical figures, the salters were figured by salina in a sky-coloured robe and coronation mantle, and crowned with white and yellow roses. among the citizens nominated by the common council to attend the mayor as chief butler, at the coronation of richard iii., occurs the name of a salter. the following bill of fare for fifty people of the company of salters, a.d. , is still preserved:-- s. d. chickens swan and geese rabbits rumps of beef tails quails ounces of pepper ounces of cloves and mace - / ounces of saffron lb. sugar lb. raisins lb. dates - / lb. comfits half hundred eggs - / gallons of curds ditto gooseberries dishes of butter breasts of veal bacon quarter of a load of coals faggots - / gallons of gascoyne wine bottle muscadina cherries and tarts salt verjuice and vinegar paid the cook perfume - / bushels of meal water garnishing the vessels in the company's books (says herbert) is a receipt "for to make a moost choyce paaste of gamys to be eten at ye feste of chrystemasse" ( th richard ii., a.d. ). a pie so made by the company's cook in was found excellent. it consisted of a pheasant, hare, and capon; two partridges, two pigeons, and two rabbits; all boned and put into paste in the shape of a bird, with the livers and hearts, two mutton kidneys, forced meats, and egg balls, seasoning, spice, catsup, and pickled mushrooms, filled up with gravy made from the various bones. the original congregation of salters' hall chapel assembled at buckingham house, college hill. the first minister was richard mayo, who died in . he was so eloquent, that it is said even the windows were crowded when he preached. he was one of the seceders of . nathaniel taylor, who died in , was latterly so infirm that he used to crawl into the pulpit upon his knees. "he was a man," says matthew henry, "of great wit, worth, and courage;" and doddridge compared his writings to those of south for wit and strength. tong succeeded taylor at salters' hall in . he wrote the notes on the hebrews and revelations for matthew henry's "commentary," and left memoirs of henry, and of shower, of the old jewry. the writer of his funeral sermon called him "the prince of preachers." in arianism began to prevail at salters' hall, where a synod on the subject was at last held. the meetings ended by the non-subscribers calling out, "you that are against persecution come up stairs:" and thomas bradbury, of new court, the leader of the orthodox, replying, "you that are for declaring your faith in the doctrine of the trinity stay below." the subscribers proved to be fifty-three; the "scandalous majority," fifty-seven. during this controversy arianism became the subject of coffee-house talk. john newman, who died in , was buried at bunhill fields, dr. doddridge delivering a funeral oration over his grave. francis spillsbury, another salters' hall minister, worked there for twenty years with john barker, who resigned in . hugh farmer, another of this brotherhood, was doddridge's first pupil at the northampton college. he wrote an exposition on demonology and miracles, which aroused controversy. his manuscripts were destroyed at his death, according to the strict directions of his will. when the presbyterians forsook salters' hall, some people came there who called the hall "the areopagus," and themselves the christian evidence society. after their bankruptcy in , the baptists re-opened the hall. the congregation has now removed to a northern suburb, and their chapel bears the old name, "so closely linked with our old city history, and its nonconformist associations." in april, , a mysterious murder took place in cannon street. the victim, a widow, named sarah millson, was housekeeper on the premises of messrs. bevington, leather-sellers. about nine o'clock in the evening, when sitting by the fire in company with another servant, the street bell was heard to ring, on which millson went down to the door, remarking to her neighbour that she knew who it was. she did not return, although for an hour this did not excite any suspicion, as she was in the habit of holding conversations at the street door. a little after ten o'clock, the other woman--elizabeth lowes--went down, and found millson dead at the bottom of the stairs, the blood still flowing profusely from a number of deep wounds in the head. her shoes had been taken off and were lying on a table in the hall, and as there was no blood on them it was presumed this was done before the murder. the housekeeper's keys were also found on the stairs. opening the door to procure assistance, lowes observed a woman on the doorstep, screening herself apparently from the rain, which was falling heavily at the time. she moved off as soon as the door was opened, saying, in answer to the request for assistance, "oh! dear, no; i can't come in!" the gas over the door had been lighted as usual at eight o'clock, but was now out, although not turned off at the meter. the evidence taken by the coroner showed that the instrument of murder had probably been a small crowbar used to wrench open packing-cases; one was found near the body, unstained with blood, and another was missing from the premises. the murderer has never been discovered. st. martin orgar, a church near cannon street, was destroyed in the great fire, and not rebuilt. it had been used, says strype, by the french protestants, who had a french minister, episcopally ordained. there was a monument here to sir allen cotton, knight, and alderman of london, some time lord mayor, with this epitaph-- "when he left earth rich bounty dy'd, mild courtesie gave place to pride; soft mercie to bright justice said, o sister, we are both betray'd. white innocence lay on the ground, by truth, and wept at either's wound. "those sons of levi did lament, their lamps went out, their oyl was spent. heaven hath his soul, and only we spin out our lives in misery. so death thou missest of thy ends, and kil'st not him, but kil'st his friends." a bill in parliament being engrossed for the erection of a church for the french protestants in the churchyard of this parish, after the great fire, the parishioners offered reasons to the parliament against it; declaring that they were not against erecting a church, but only against erecting it in the place mentioned in the bill; since by the act for rebuilding the city, the site and churchyard of st. martin orgar was directed to be enclosed with a wall, and laid open for a burying-place for the parish. the tame statue of that honest but commonplace monarch, william iv., at the end of king william street, is of granite, and the work of a mr. nixon. it cost upwards of £ , , of which £ , was voted by the common council of london. it is fifteen feet three inches in height, weighs twenty tons, and is chiefly memorable as marking the site of the famous "boar's head" tavern. the opening of the cannon street extension railway, september, , provided a communication with charing cross and london bridge, and through it with the whole of the south-eastern system. the bridge across the thames approaching the station has five lines of rails; the curves branching east and west to charing cross and london bridge have three lines, and in the station there are nine lines of rails and five spacious platforms, one of them having a double carriage road for exit and entrance. the signal-box at the entrance to the cannon street station extends from one side of the bridge to the other, and has a range of over eighty levers, coloured red for danger-signals, and green for safety and going out. the hotel at cannon street station, a handsome building, is after the design by mr. barry. arrangements were made for the reception of about , , passengers yearly. chapter xlix. cannon street tributaries and eastcheap. budge row--cordwainers' hall--st. swithin's church--founders' hall--the oldest street in london--tower royal and the wat tyler mob--the queen's wardrobe--st. antholin's church--"st. antlin's bell"--the london fire brigade--captain shaw's statistics--st. mary aldermary--a quaint epitaph--crooked lane--an early "gun accident"--st. michael's and sir william walworth's epitaph--gerard's hall and its history--the early closing movement--st. mary woolchurch--roman remains in nicholas lane--st. stephen's, walbrook--eastcheap and the cooks' shops--the "boar's head"--prince hal and his companions--a giant plum-pudding--goldsmith at the "boar's head"--the weigh-house chapel and its famous preachers--reynolds, clayton, binney. budge row derived its name from the sellers of budge (lamb-skin) fur that dwelt there. the word is used by milton in his "lycidas," where he sneers at the "budge-skin" doctors. cordwainers' hall, no. , cannon street, is the third of the same company's halls on this site, and was built in by sylvanus hall. the stone front, by adam, has a sculptured medallion of a country girl spinning with a distaff, emblematic of the name of the lane, and of the thread used by cordwainers or shoemakers. in the pediment are their arms. in the hall are portraits of king william and queen mary; and here is a sepulchral urn and tablet, by nollekens, to john came, a munificent benefactor to the company. the cordwainers were originally incorporated by henry iv., in , as the "cordwainers and cobblers," the latter term signifying dealers in shoes and shoemakers. in the reign of richard ii., "every cordwainer that shod any man or woman on sunday was to pay thirty shillings." among the company's plate is a piece for which camden, the antiquary, left £ . their charities include came's bequest for blind, deaf, and dumb persons, and clergymen's widows, £ , yearly; and in the "bell inn," at edmonton, was bequeathed for poor freemen of the company. the church in cannon street dedicated to st. swithin, and in which london stone is now encased, is of a very early date, as the name of the rector in is still recorded. sir john hind, lord mayor in and , rebuilt both church and steeple. after the fire of london, the parish of st. mary bothaw was united to that of st. swithin. st. swithin's was rebuilt by wren after the great fire. the salters' company formerly had the right of presentation to this church, but sold it. the form of the interior is irregular and awkward, in consequence of the tower intruding on the north-west corner. the ceiling, an octagonal cupola, is decorated with wreaths and ribbons. in mr. godwin describes an immense sounding-board over the pulpit, and an altar-piece of carved oak, guarded by two wooden figures of moses and aaron. there is a slab to mr. stephen winmill, twenty-four years parish clerk; and a tablet commemorative of mr. francis kemble and his two wives, with the following distich:-- "life makes the soul dependent on the dust; death gives her wings to mount above the spheres." the angles at the top of the mean square tower are bevelled off to allow of a short octagonal spire and an octagonal balustrade. the following epitaphs are quoted by strype:-- john rogers, died . "like thee i was sometime, but now am turned to dust; as thou at length, o earth and slime, returne to ashes must. of the company of clothworkers a brother i became; a long time in the livery i lived of the same. then death that deadly stroke did give, which now my joys doth frame. in christ i dyed, by christ to live; john rogers was my name. my loving wife and children two my place behind supply; god grant them living so to doe, that they in him may dye." george bolles, lord mayor of london, died . "he possessed earth as he might heaven possesse; wise to doe right, but never to oppresse. his charity was better felt than knowne, for when he gave there was no trumpet blowne. what more can be comprized in one man's fame, to crown a soule, and leave a living name?" founders' hall, now in st. swithin's lane, was formerly at founders' court, lothbury. the founders' company, incorporated in , had the power of testing all brass weights and brass and copper wares within the city and three miles round. the old founders' hall was noted for its political meetings, and was in nicknamed "the cauldron of sedition." here waithman made his first political speech, and, with his fellow-orators, was put to flight by constables, sent by the lord mayor, sir james sanderson, to disperse the meeting. watling street, now laid open by the new street leading to the mansion house, is probably the oldest street in london. it is part of the old roman military road that, following an old british forest-track, led from london to dover, and from dover to south wales. the name, according to leland, is from the saxon _atheling_--a noble street. at the north-west end of it is the church of st. augustine, anciently styled _ecclesia sancti augustini ad portam_, from its vicinity to the south-east gate of st. paul's cathedral. this church was described on page . tower royal, watling street, preserves the memory of one of those strange old palatial forts that were not unfrequent in mediæval london--half fortresses, half dwelling-houses; half courting, half distrusting the city. "it was of old time the king's house," says stow, solemnly, "but was afterwards called the queen's wardrobe. by whom the same was first built, or of what antiquity continued, i have not read, more than that in the reign of edward i. it was the tenement of simon beaumes." in the reign of edward iii. it was called "the royal, in the parish of st. michael paternoster;" and in the rd year of his reign he gave the inn, in value £ a year, to the college of st. stephen, at westminster. in the wat tyler rebellion, richard ii.'s mother and her ladies took refuge there, when the rebels had broken into the tower and terrified the royal lady by piercing her bed with their swords. "king richard," says stow, "having in smithfield overcome and dispersed the rebels, he, his lords, and all his company entered the city of london with great joy, and went to the lady princess his mother, who was then lodged in the tower royal, called the queen's wardrobe, where she had remained three days and two nights, right sore abashed. but when she saw the king her son she was greatly rejoiced, and said, 'ah! son, what great sorrow have i suffered for you this day!' the king answered and said, 'certainly, madam, i know it well; but now rejoyce, and thank god, for i have this day recovered mine heritage, and the realm of england, which i had near-hand lost.'" richard ii. was lodging at the tower royal at a later date, when the "king of armony," as stow quaintly calls the king of armenia, had been driven out of his dominions by the "tartarians;" and the lavish young king bestowed on him £ , a year, in pity for a banished monarch, little thinking how soon he, discrowned and dethroned, would be vainly looking round the prison walls for one look of sympathy. this "great house," belonging anciently to the kings of england, was afterwards inhabited by the first duke of norfolk, to whom it had been granted by richard iii., the master he served at bosworth. strype finds an entry of the gift in an old ledger-book of king richard's, wherein the tower royal is described as "le tower," in the parish of st. thomas apostle, not of st. michael, as stow has it. the house afterwards sank into poverty, became a stable for "all the king's horses," and in stow's time was divided into poor tenements. _sic transit gloria mundi._ [illustration: st. antholin's church, watling street.] the church of st. antholin, in watling street, is the only old church in london dedicated to that monkish saint. the date of its foundation is unknown, but it must be of great antiquity, as it is mentioned by ralph de diceto, dean of st. paul's at the end of the twelfth century. the church was rebuilt, about the year , by sir thomas knowles, mayor of london, who was buried here, and whose odd epitaph stow notes down:-- "here lyeth graven under this stone thomas knowles, both flesh and bone, grocer and alderman, years forty, sheriff and twice maior, truly; and for he should not lye alone, here lyeth with him his good wife joan. they were together sixty year, and nineteen children they had in feere," &c. the epitaph of simon street, grocer, is also badly written enough to be amusing:-- "such as i am, such shall you be; grocer of london, sometime was i, the king's weigher, more than years twenty simon street called, in my place, and good fellowship fain would trace; therefore in heaven everlasting life, jesu send me, and agnes my wife," &c. st. antholin's perished in the great fire, and the present church was completed by wren, in the year , at the expense of about £ , . after the fire the parish of st. john baptist, watling street, was annexed to that of st. antholin, the latter paying five-eighths towards the repairs of the church, the former the remaining three-eighths. the interior of the church is peculiar, being covered with an oval-shaped dome, which is supported on eight columns, which stand on high plinths. the carpentry of the roof, says mr. godwin, displays constructive knowledge. the exterior of the building, says the same authority, is of pleasing proportions, and shows great powers of invention. as an apology for adding a gothic spire to a quasi-grecian church, wren has, oddly enough, crowned the spire with a small composite capital, which looks like the top of a pencil-case. above this is the vane. the steeple rises to the height of feet. [illustration: the crypt of gerard's hall (_see page _).] the church was rebuilt by john tate, a mercer, in ; and strype mentions the erection in of a rich and beautiful gallery with fifty-two compartments, filled with the coats-of-arms of kings and nobles, ending with the blazon of the elector palatine. a new morning prayer and lecture was established here by clergymen inclined to puritanical principles in . the bells began to ring at five in the morning, and were considered pharisaical and intolerable by all high churchmen in the neighbourhood. the extreme geneva party made a point of attending these early prayers. lilly, the astrologer, went to these lectures when a young man; and scott makes mike lambourne, in "kenilworth," refer to them. nor have they been overlooked by our early dramatists. randolph, davenant, and others make frequent allusions in their plays to the puritanical fervour of this parish. the tongue of middleton's "roaring girl" was "heard further in a still morning than st. antlin's bell." in the heart of the city, and not far from london stone, was a house which used to be inhabited by the lord mayor or one of the sheriffs, situated so near to the church of st. antholin that there was a way out of it into a gallery of the church. the commissioners from the church of scotland to king charles were lodged here in . at st. antholin's preached the chaplains of the commission, with alexander henderson at their head; "and curiosity, faction, and humour brought so great a conflux and resort, that from the first appearance of day in the morning, on every sunday, to the shutting in of the light, the church was never empty." dugdale also mentions the church. "now for an essay," he says, "of those whom, under colour of preaching the gospel, in sundry parts of the realm, they set up a morning lecture at st. antholine's church in london; where (as probationers for that purpose) they first made tryal of their abilities, which place was the grand nursery whence most of the seditious preachers were after sent abroad throughout all england to poyson the people with their anti-monarchical principles." in watling street is the chief station of the london fire brigade. the metropolitan board of works has consolidated and reorganised, under captain shaw, the whole system of the fire brigade into one homogeneous municipal institution. the insurance companies contribute about £ , per annum towards its maintenance, the treasury £ , , and a metropolitan rate of one halfpenny in the pound raises an additional sum of £ , , making about £ , in all. under the old system there were seventeen fire-stations, guarding an area of about ten square miles, out of which comprise the metropolitan district. at the commencement of there were forty-three stations in an area of about square miles. from captain shaw's report, presented january , , it appears that during the year there had been three deaths in the brigade, cases of ordinary illness, and injuries, making a total of cases. the strength of the brigade was as follows:-- fire-engine stations, fire-escape stations, floating stations, telegraph lines, miles of telegraph lines, floating steam fire-engines, large land steam fire-engines, small ditto, other fire-engines, fire-escapes, firemen. the number of watches kept up throughout the metropolis is by day, and by night, making a total of in every twenty-four hours. the remaining men, except those sick, injured, or on leave, are available for general work at fires. if stow is correct, st. mary's aldermary, watling street, was originally called aldermary because it was older than st. mary's bow, and, indeed, any other church in london dedicated to the virgin; but this is improbable. the first known rector of aldermary was presented before the year . in two of the turrets were blown down. in a building, supposed to be the crypt of the old church, fifty feet long and ten feet wide, and with five arches, was discovered under some houses in watling street. in the chancel is a beautifully sculptured tablet by bacon, with this peculiarity, that it bears no inscription. surely the celebrated "miserrimus" itself could hardly speak so strongly of humility or despair. or can it have been, says a cynic, a monument ordered by a widow, who married again before she had time to write the epitaph to the "dear departed?" on one of the walls is a tablet to the memory of that celebrated surgeon of st. bartholomew's for forty-two years, percival pott, esq., f.r.s., who died in . pott, according to a memoir written by sir james cask, succeeded to a good deal of the business of sir cæsar hawkins. pott seems to have entertained a righteous horror of amputations. the following curious epitaph is worth preserving:-- "heere is fixt the epitaph of sir henry kebyll, knight, who was sometime of london maior, a famous worthy wight, which did this aldermarie church erect and set upright. thogh death preuaile with mortal wights, and hasten every day, yet vertue ouerlies the grave, her fame doth not decay; as memories doe shew reuiu'd of one that was aliue, who, being dead, of vertuous fame none should seek to depriue; which so in liue deseru'd renowne, for facts of his to see, that may encourage other now of like good minde to be. sir henry keeble, knight, lord maior of london, here he sate, of grocers' worthy companie the chiefest in his state, which in this city grew to wealth, and unto worship came, when henry raign'd who was the seventh of that redoubted name. but he to honor did atchieu the second golden yeere of henry's raigne, so called the , and made his fact appeere when he this aldermary church gan build with great expence, twice yeeres agon no doubt, counting the time from hence. which work begun the yere of christ, well known of christian men, one thousand and fiue hundred, just, if you will add but ten. but, lo! when man purposeth most, god doth dispose the best; and so, before this work was done, god cald this knight to rest. this church, then, not yet fully built, he died about the yeere, when ill may day first took his name, which is down fixed here, whose works became a sepulchre to shroud him in that case, god took his soule, but corps of his was laid about this place; who, when he dyed, of this his work so mindful still he was, that he bequeath'd one thousand pounds to haue it brought to passe, the execution of whose gift, or where the fault should be, the work, as yet unfinished, shall shew you all for me; which church stands there, if any please to finish up the same, as he hath well begun, no doubt, and to his endless fame, they shall not onley well bestow their talent in this life, but after death, when bones be rot, their fame shall be most rife, with thankful praise and good report of our parochians here, which have of right sir henries fame afresh renewed this yeere. god move the minds of wealthy men their works so to bestow as he hath done, that, though they dye, their vertuous fame may flow." this quaint appeal seems to have had its effect, for in a mr. william rodoway left £ for the rebuilding the steeple; and the same year mr. richard pierson bequeathed marks on the express condition that the new spire should resemble the old one of keeble's. the old benefactor of st. mary's was not very well treated, for no monument was erected to him till , when his son-in-law, william blount, lord mountjoy, laid a stone reverently over him. but in the troubles following the reformation the monument was cast down, and sir william laxton (lord mayor in ) buried in place of keeble. the church was destroyed in the great fire, but soon rebuilt by henry rogers, esq., who gave £ , for the purpose. an able paper in the records of the london and middlesex archæological society states that "the tower is evidently of the date of kebyll's work, as shown by the old four-centre-headed door leading from the tower into the staircase turret, and also by the caen stone of which this part of the turret is built, which has indications of fire upon its surface. the upper portion of the tower was rebuilt in ; the intermediate portion is, i think, the work of ; and if that is admitted, it is curious as an example of construction at that period in an older style than that prevalent and in fashion at the time. the semi-elizabethan character of the detail of the strings and ornamentation seems to confirm this conclusion, as they are just such as might be looked for in a gothic work in the time of charles i. in dealing with the restoration of the church, wren must have not only followed the style of the burned edifice, but in part employed the old material. the church is of ample dimensions, being a hundred feet long and sixty-three feet broad, and consists of a nave and side aisles. the ceiling is very singular, being an imitation of fan tracery executed in plaster. the detail of this is most elaborate, but the design is odd, and, being an imitation of stone construction, the effect is very unsatisfactory. it is probable that the old roof was of wood, and entirely destroyed in the fire; consequently no record of it remained as a guide in the rebuilding, as was the case with the clustered pillars, which are good and correct in form, and only mongrel in their details. in some of the furniture of the church, such as the pulpit and the carving of the pews, the gothic style is not followed; and in these, as in the other parts where the great master's genius is left unshackled, we perceive the exquisite taste that guided him, even to the minutest details, in his own peculiar style. the sword-holder in this church is a favourable example of the careful thought which he bestowed upon his decoration.... the sword-holder is almost universally found in the city churches.... amongst the gifts to this church is one by richard chawcer (supposed by stowe to be father of the great geoffrey), who gave his tenement and tavern in the highway, at the corner of keirion lane. richard chawcer was buried here in . after the fire, the parishes of st. mary aldermary and st. thomas the apostle were united; and as the advowson of the latter belonged to the cathedral church of st. paul's, the presentation is now made alternately by the archbishop of canterbury and by the dean and chapter of st. paul's." "crooked lane," says cunningham, "was so called of the crooked windings thereof." part of the lane was taken down to make the approach to new london bridge. it was long famous for its birdcages and fishing-tackle shops. we find in an old elizabethan letter-- "at my last attendance on your lordship at hansworth, i was so bold to promise your lordship to send you a much more convenient house for your lordship's fine bird to live in than that she was in when i was there, which by this bearer i trust i have performed. it is of the best sort of building in crooked lane, strong and well-proportioned, wholesomely provided for her seat and diet, and with good provision, by the wires below, to keep her feet cleanly." (thomas markham to thomas, earl of shrewsbury, feb. th, .) "the most ancient house in this lane," says stow, "is called the leaden porch, and belonged some time to sir john merston, knight, the st edward iv. it is now called the swan in crooked lane, possessed of strangers, and selling of rhenish wine." "in the year , july th," says stow, "there came certain men into crooked lane to buy a gun or two, and shooting off a piece it burst in pieces, went through the house, and spoiled about five houses more; and of that goodly church adjoining, it threw down a great part on one side, and left never a glass window whole. and by it eight men and one maid were slain, and divers hurt." in st. michael's church, crooked lane, now pulled down, sir william walworth was buried. in the year in which he killed wat tyler (says stow), "the said sir william walworth founded in the said parish church of st. michael, a college, for a master and nine priests or chaplains, and deceasing , was there buried in the north chapel, by the quire; but this monument being amongst others (by bad people) defaced in the reign of edward vi., was again since renewed by the fishmongers. this second monument, after the profane demolishing of the first, was set up in june, , with his effigies in alabaster, in armour richly gilt, by the fishmongers, at the cost of william parvis, fishmonger, who dwelt at the 'castle,' in new fish street." the epitaph ran thus:-- "here under lyth a man of fame, william walworth callyd by name. fishmonger he was in lyfftime here, and twise lord maior, as in bookes appere; who with courage stout and manly myght slew jack straw in king richard's syght. for which act done and trew content, the kyng made hym knight incontinent. and gave hym armes, as here you see, to declare his fact and chivalrie. he left this lyff the yere of our god, thirteen hondred fourscore and three odd." gerard's hall, basing lane, bread street (removed for improvements in ), and latterly an hotel, was rebuilt, after the great fire, on the site of the house of sir john gisors (pepperer), mayor in (henry iii.). the son of the mayor was mayor and constable of the tower in (edward ii.). this second gisors seems to have got into trouble from boldly and honestly standing up for the liberties of the citizens, and his troubles began after this manner. in the troublesome reign of edward ii. it was ordained by parliament that every city and town in england, according to its ability, should raise and maintain a certain number of soldiers against the scots, who at that time, by their great depredations, had laid waste all the north of england as far as york and lancaster. the quota of london to that expedition being men, it was five times the number that was sent by any other city or town in the kingdom. to meet this requisition the mayor in council levied a rate on the city, the raising of which was the occasion of continual broils between the magistrates and freemen, which ended in the jury of aldermanbury making a presentation before the justices itinerant and the lord treasurer sitting in the tower of london, to this effect:--"that the commonalty of london is, and ought to be, common, and that the citizens are not bound to be taxed without the special command of the king, or without their common consent; that the mayor of the city, and the custodes in their time, after the common redemption made and paid for the city of london, have come, and by their own authority, without the king's command and commons' consent, did tax the said city according to their own wills, once and more, and distrained for those taxes, sparing the rich, and oppressing the poor middle sort; not permitting that the arrearages due from the rich be levied, to the disinheriting of the king and the destruction of the city, nor can the commons know what becomes of the monies levied of such taxes." they also complained that the said mayor and aldermen had taken upon them to turn out of the common council men at their pleasure; and that the mayor and superiors of the city had deposed walter henry from acting in the common council, because he would not permit the rich to levy tollages upon the poor, till they themselves had paid their arrears of former tollages; upon which sir john gisors, some time lord mayor, and divers of the principal citizens, were summoned to attend the said justices, and personally to answer to the accusations laid against them; but, being conscious of guilt, they fled from justice, screening themselves under the difficulty of the time. how long sir john gisors remained absent from london does not appear; but probably on the dethronement of edward ii. and accession of edward iii., he might join the prevailing party and return to his mansion, without any dread of molestation from the power of ministers and favourites of the late reign, who were at this period held in universal detestation. sir john gisors died, and was buried in our lady's chapel, christ church, faringdon within (christ's hospital). later in that century the house became the residence of sir henry picard, vintner and lord mayor, who entertained here, with great splendour, no less distinguished personages than his sovereign, edward iii., john king of france, the king of cyprus, david king of scotland, edward the black prince, and a large assemblage of the nobility. "and after," says stow, "the said henry picard kept his hall against all comers whosoever that were willing to play at dice and hazard. in like manner, the lady margaret his wife did also keep her chamber to the same effect." we are told that on this occasion "the king of cyprus, playing with sir henry picard in his hall, did win of him fifty marks; but picard, being very skilled in that art, altering his hand, did after win of the same king the same fifty marks, and fifty marks more; which when the same king began to take in ill part, although he dissembled the same, sir henry said unto him, 'my lord and king, be not aggrieved; i court not your gold, but your play; for i have not bid you hither that you might grieve;' and giving him his money again, plentifully bestowed of his own amongst the retinue. besides, he gave many rich gifts to the king, and other nobles and knights which dined with him, to the great glory of the citizens of london in those days." gerard hall contained one of the finest norman crypts to be found in all london. it was not an ecclesiastical crypt, but the great vaulted warehouse of a norman merchant's house, and it is especially mentioned by stow. "on the south side of basing lane," says stow, "is one great house of old time, built upon arched vaults, and with arched gates of stone, brought from caen, in normandy. the same is now a common hostrey for receipt of travellers, commonly and corruptly called gerrarde's hall, of a giant said to have dwelt there. in the high-roofed hall of this house some time stood a large fir-pole, which reached to the roof thereof, and was said to be one of the staves that gerrarde the giant used in the wars to run withal. there stood also a ladder of the same length, which (as they say) served to ascend to the top of the staff. of later years this hall is altered in building, and divers rooms are made in it; notwithstanding the pole is removed to one corner of the room, and the ladder hangs broken upon a wall in the yard. the hostelar of that house said to me, 'the pole lacketh half a foot of forty in length.' i measured the compass thereof, and found it fifteen inches. reasons of the pole could the master of the hostrey give none; but bade me read the great chronicles, for there he had heard of it. i will now note what myself hath observed concerning that house. i read that john gisors, mayor of london in , was owner thereof, and that sir john gisors, constable of the tower , and divers others of that name and family, since that time owned it. so it appeareth that this gisors hall of late time, by corruption, hath been called gerrarde's hall for gisors' hall. the pole in the hall might be used of old times (as then the custom was in every parish) to be set up in the summer as a maypole. the ladder served for the decking of the maypole and roof of the hall." the works of wilkinson and j.t. smith contain a careful view of the interior of this crypt. there used to be outside the hotel a quaint gigantic figure of seventeenth century workmanship. in mr. james smith, the originator of early closing (then living at w.y. ball and co.'s, wood street), learning that the warehouses in manchester were closed at one p.m. on saturday, determined to ascertain if a similar system could not be introduced into the metropolis. he invited a few friends to meet him at the gerard's hall. mr. f. bennock, of wood street, was appointed chairman, and a canvass was commenced, but it was feared that, as certain steam-packets left london on saturday afternoon, the proposed arrangement might prevent the proper dispatch of merchandise, so it was suggested that the warehouses should be closed "all the year round" eight months at six o'clock, and four months at eight o'clock. this arrangement was acceded to. st. mary woolchurch was an old parish church in walbrook ward, destroyed in the great fire, and not rebuilt. it occupied part of the site of the mansion house, and derived its name from a beam for weighing wool that was kept there till the reign of richard ii., when customs began to be taken at the wool key, in lower thames street. some of the bequests to this church, as mentioned by stow, are very characteristic. elyu fuller: "farthermore, i will that myn executor shal kepe yerely, during the said yeres, about the tyme of my departure, an _obit_--that is to say, _dirige_ over even, and masse on the morrow, for my sowl, mr. kneysworth's sowl, my lady sowl, and al christen sowls." one george wyngar, by his will, dated september , , ordered to be buried in the church of woolchurch, "besyde the stocks, in london, under a stone lying at my lady wyngar's pew dore, at the steppe comyng up to the chappel. _item._ i bequeath to pore maids' mariages £ s. d; to every pore householder of this my parish, d. a pece to the sum of s. _item._ i bequeath to the high altar of s. nicolas chapel £ for an altar-cloth of velvet, with my name brotheryd thereupon, with a wyng, and g and a and r closyd in a knot. also, i wold that a subdeacon of whyte damask be made to the hyghe altar, with my name brotheryd, to syng in, on our lady daies, in the honour of god and our lady, to the value of seven marks." the following epitaph is also worth preserving:-- "in sevenoke, into the world my mother brought me; hawlden house, in kent, with armes ever honour'd me; westminster hall (thirty-six yeeres after) knew me. then seeking heaven, heaven from the world tooke me; whilome alive, thomas scot men called me; now laid in grave oblivion covereth me." in , among the ruins of a roman edifice, at eleven feet depth, was found in nicholas lane, near cannon street, a large slab, inscribed "num. cÆs. prov. brita." (_numini cæsaris provincia britannia_). in tesselated pavement, samian ware, earthen urns and lamp, and other roman vessels were found from twelve to twenty feet deep near basing lane, new cannon street. according to dugdale, eudo, steward of the household to king henry i. ( - ), gave the church of st. stephen, which stood on the west side of walbrook, to the monastery of st. john at colchester. in the reign of henry vi. robert chicheley, mayor of london, gave a piece of ground on the east side of walbrook, for a new church, feet long and feet broad. it was in this church, in queen mary's time, that dr. feckenham, her confessor and the fanatical dean of st. paul's, used to preach the doctrines of the old faith. the church was destroyed in the great fire, and rebuilt by wren in - . the following is one of the old epitaphs here:-- "this life hath on earth no certain while, example by john, mary, and oliver stile, who under this stone lye buried in the dust, and putteth you in memory that dye all must." [illustration: old sign of the "boar's head" (_see page _).] the parish of st. stephen is now united to that of st. bennet sherehog (pancras lane), the church of which was destroyed in the fire. the cupola of st. stephen's is supposed by some writers to have been a rehearsal for the dome of st. paul's. "the interior," says mr. godwin, "is certainly more worthy of admiration in respect of its general arrangement, which displays great skill, than of the details, which are in many respects faulty. the body of the church, which is nearly a parallelogram, is divided into five unequal aisles (the centre being the largest) by four rows of corinthian columns, within one intercolumniation from the east end. two columns from each of the two centre rows are omitted, and the area thus formed is covered by an enriched cupola, supported on light arches, which rise from the entablature of the columns. by the distribution of the columns and their entablature, an elegant cruciform arrangement is given to this part of the church. but this is marred in some degree," says the writer, "by the want of connection which exists between the square area formed by the columns and their entablature and the cupola which covers it. the columns are raised on plinths. the spandrels of the arches bearing the cupola present panels containing shields and foliage of unmeaning form. the pilasters at the chancel end and the brackets on the side wall are also condemned. the windows in the clerestory are mean; the enrichments of the meagre entablature clumsy. the fine cupola is divided into panels ornamented with palm-branches and roses, and is terminated at the apex by a circular lantern-light. the walls of the church are plain, and disfigured," says mr. godwin, "by the introduction of those disagreeable oval openings for light so often used by wren." the picture, by west, of the death of st. stephen is considered by some persons a work of high character, though to us west seems always the tamest and most insipid of painters. the exterior of the building is dowdily plain, except the upper part of the steeple, which slightly, says mr. godwin, "resembles that of st. james's, garlick hythe. the approach to the body of the church is by a flight of sixteen steps, in an enclosed porch in walbrook quite distinct from the tower and main building." mr. gwilt seems to have considered this church a _chef-d'oeuvre_ of wren's, and says: "had its materials and volume been as durable and extensive as those of st. paul's cathedral, sir christopher wren had consummated a much more efficient monument to his well-earned fame than that fabric affords." compared with any other church of nearly the same magnitude, italy cannot exhibit its equal; elsewhere its rival is not to be found. of those worthy of notice, the zitelle, at venice (by palladio), is the nearest approximation in regard to size; but it ranks far below our church in point of composition, and still lower in point of effect. [illustration: exterior of st. stephen's, walbrook, in .] "the interior of st. stephen's," says mr. timbs, "is one of wren's finest works, with its exquisitely proportioned corinthian columns, and great central dome of timber and lead, resting upon a circle of light arches springing from column to column. its enriched composite cornice, the shields of the spandrels, and the palm-branches and rosettes of the dome-coffers are very beautiful; and as you enter from the dark vestibule, a halo of dazzling light flashes upon the eye through the central aperture of the cupola. the elliptical openings for light in the side walls are, however, very objectionable. the fittings are of oak; and the altar-screen, organ-case, and gallery have some good carvings, among which are prominent the arms of the grocers' company, the patrons of the living, and who gave the handsome wainscoting. the enriched pulpit, its festoons of fruit and flowers, and canopied sounding-board, with angels bearing wreaths, are much admired. the church was cleaned and repaired in , when west's splendid painting of the martyrdom of st. stephen, presented in by the then rector, dr. wilson, was removed from over the altar and placed on the north wall of the church; and the window which the picture had blocked up was then re-opened." the oldest monument in the church is that of john lilburne (died ). sir john vanbrugh, the wit and architect, is buried here in the family vault. during the repairs, in , it is stated that , coffins were found beneath the church, and were covered with brickwork and concrete to prevent the escape of noxious effluvia. the exterior of the church is plain; the tower and spire, feet high, is at the termination of charlotte row. dr. croly, the poet, was for many years rector of st. stephen's. eastcheap is mentioned as a street of cooks' shops by lydgate, a monk, who flourished in the reigns of henry v. and vi., in his "london lackpenny:"-- "then i hyed me into estchepe, one cryes rybbs of befe, and many a pye; pewter pots they clattered on a heape, there was harpe, pype, and mynstrelsye." stow especially says that in henry iv.'s time there were no taverns in eastcheap. he tells the following story of how prince hal's two roystering brothers were here beaten by the watch. this slight hint perhaps led shakespeare to select this street for the scene of the prince's revels. "this eastcheap," says stow, "is now a flesh-market of butchers, there dwelling on both sides of the street; it had some time also cooks mixed among the butchers, and such other as sold victuals ready dressed of all sorts. for of old time, such as were disposed to be merry, met not to dine and sup in taverns (for they dressed not meats to be sold), but to the cooks, where they called for meat what them liked. "in the year , the th of henry iv., upon the even of st. john baptist, the king's sons, thomas and john, being in eastcheap at supper (or rather at breakfast, for it was after the watch was broken up, betwixt two and three of the clock after midnight), a great debate happened between their men and other of the court, which lasted one hour, even till the maior and sheriffs, with other citizens, appeased the same; for the which afterwards the said maior, aldermen, and sheriffs were sent for to answer before the king, his sons and divers lords being highly moved against the city. at which time william gascoigne, chief justice, required the maior and aldermen, for the citizens, to put them in the king's grace. whereunto they answered they had not offended, but (according to the law) had done their best in stinting debate and maintaining of the peace; upon which answer the king remitted all his ire and dismissed them." the "boar's head," eastcheap, stood on the north side of eastcheap, between small alley and st. michael's lane, the back windows looking out on the churchyard of st. michael, crooked lane, which was removed with the inn, rebuilt after the great fire, in , for the improvement of new london bridge. in the reign of richard ii. william warder gave the tenement called the "boar's head," in eastcheap, to a college of priests, founded by sir william walworth, for the adjoining church of st. michael, crooked lane. in maitland's time the inn was labelled, "this is the chief tavern in london." upon a house (says mr. godwin) on the south side of eastcheap, previous to recent alterations, there was a representation of a boar's head, to indicate the site of the tavern; but there is reason to believe that this was incorrectly placed, insomuch as by the books of st. clement's parish it appears to have been situated on the north side. it seems by a deed of trust which still remains, that the tavern belonged to this parish, and in the books about the year appears this entry: "ordered that the churchwardens doe pay to the rev. mr. pulleyn £ for four years, due to him at lady day next, for one moyetee of the ground-rent of a house formerly called the 'boar's head,' eastcheap, near the 'george' ale-house." again, too, we find: "august , . an agreement was entered into with william usborne, to grant him a lease for forty-six years, from the expiration of the then lease, of a brick messuage or tenement on the north side of great eastcheap, commonly known by the name of 'the lamb and perriwig,' in the occupation of joseph lock, barber, and which was formerly known as the sign of the 'boar's head.'" on the removal of a mound of rubbish at whitechapel, brought there after a great fire, a carved boxwood bas-relief boar's head was found, set in a circular frame formed by two boars' tusks, mounted and united with silver. an inscription to the following effect was pricked at the back:--"william brooke, landlord of the bore's hedde, estchepe, ." this object, formerly in the possession of mr. stamford, the celebrated publisher, was sold at christie and manson's, on january , , and was bought by mr. halliwell. the ancient sign, carved in stone, with the initials i.t., and the date , is now preserved in the city of london library, guildhall. in mr. kempe exhibited to the society of antiquaries a carved oak figure of sir john falstaff, in the costume of the sixteenth century. this figure had supported an ornamental bracket over one side of the door of the last "boar's head," a figure of prince henry sustaining the other. this figure of falstaff was the property of a brazer whose ancestors had lived in the same shop in great eastcheap ever since the fire. he remembered the last great shakesperian dinner at the "boar's head," about , when wilberforce and pitt were both present; and though there were many wits at table, pitt, he said, was pronounced the most pleasant and amusing of the guests. there is another "boar's head" in southwark, and one in old fish street. "in the month of may, ," says mr. hotten, in his "history of sign-boards," "one james austin, 'inventor of the persian ink-powder,' desiring to give his customers a substantial proof of his gratitude, invited them to the 'boar's head' to partake of an immense plum pudding--this pudding weighed , pounds--a baked pudding of one foot square, and the best piece of an ox roasted. the principal dish was put in the copper on monday, may , at the 'red lion inn,' by the mint, in southwark, and had to boil fourteen days. from there it was to be brought to the 'swan tavern,' in fish street hill, accompanied by a band of music, playing 'what lumps of pudding my mother gave me!' one of the instruments was a drum in proportion to the pudding, being feet inches in length, and feet in diameter, which was drawn by 'a device fixed on six asses.' finally, the monstrous pudding was to be divided in st. george's fields; but apparently its smell was too much for the gluttony of the londoners. the escort was routed, the pudding taken and devoured, and the whole ceremony brought to an end before mr. austin had a chance to regale his customers." puddings seem to have been the _forte_ of this austin. twelve or thirteen years before this last pudding he had baked one, for a wager, ten feet deep in the thames, near rotherhithe, by enclosing it in a great tin pan, and that in a sack of lime. it was taken up after about two hours and a half, and eaten with great relish, its only fault being that it was somewhat overdone. the bet was for more than £ . in the burial-ground of st. michael's church, hard by, rested all that was mortal of one of the waiters of this tavern. his tomb, in purbeck stone, had the following epitaph:-- "here lieth the bodye of robert preston, late drawer at the 'boar's head tavern,' great eastcheap, who departed this life march , anno domini , aged twenty-seven years. "bacchus, to give the toping world surprise, produc'd one sober son, and here he lies. tho' nurs'd among full hogsheads, he defy'd the charm of wine, and every vice beside. o reader, if to justice thou'rt inclined, keep honest preston daily in thy mind. he drew good wine, took care to fill his pots, had sundry virtues that outweighed his fauts (_sic_). you that on bacchus have the like dependence, pray copy bob in measure and attendance." goldsmith visited the "boar's head," and has left a delightful essay upon his day-dreams there, totally forgetting that the original inn had perished in the great fire. "the character of falstaff," says the poet, "even with all his faults, gives me more consolation than the most studied efforts of wisdom. i here behold an agreeable old fellow forgetting age, and showing me the way to be young at sixty-five. surely i am well able to be as merry, though not so comical as he. is it not in my power to have, though not so much wit, at least as much vivacity? age, care, wisdom, reflection, be gone! i give you to the winds. let's have t'other bottle. here's to the memory of shakespeare, falstaff, and all the merry men of eastcheap! "such were the reflections which naturally arose while i sat at the 'boar's head tavern,' still kept at eastcheap. here, by a pleasant fire, in the very room where old sir john falstaff cracked his jokes, in the very chair which was sometimes honoured by prince henry, and sometimes polluted by his immortal merry companions, i sat and ruminated on the follies of youth, wished to be young again, but was resolved to make the best of life whilst it lasted, and now and then compared past and present times together. i considered myself as the only living representative of the old knight, and transported my imagination back to the times when the prince and he gave life to the revel. the room also conspired to throw my reflections back into antiquity. the oak floor, the gothic windows, and the ponderous chimney-piece had long withstood the tooth of time. the watchman had gone twelve. my companions had all stolen off, and none now remained with me but the landlord. from him i could have wished to know the history of a tavern that had such a long succession of customers. i could not help thinking that an account of this kind would be a pleasing contrast of the manners of different ages. but my landlord could give me no information. he continued to doze and sot, and tell a tedious story, as most other landlords usually do, and, though he said nothing, yet was never silent. one good joke followed another good joke; and the best joke of all was generally begun towards the end of a bottle. i found at last, however, his wine and his conversation operate by degrees. he insensibly began to alter his appearance. his cravat seemed quilted into a ruff, and his breeches swelled out into a farthingale. i now fancied him changing sexes; and as my eyes began to close in slumber, i imagined my fat landlord actually converted into as fat a landlady. however, sleep made but few changes in my situation. the tavern, the apartment, and the table continued as before. nothing suffered mutation but my host, who was fairly altered into a gentlewoman, whom i knew to be dame quickly, mistress of this tavern in the days of sir john; and the liquor we were drinking seemed converted into sack and sugar. "'my dear mrs. quickly,' cried i (for i knew her perfectly well at first sight), 'i am heartily glad to see you. how have you left falstaff, pistol, and the rest of our friends below stairs?--brave and hearty, i hope?'" years after that amiable american writer, washington irving, followed in goldsmith's steps, and came to eastcheap, in , to search for falstaff relics; and at the "masons' arms," , miles lane, he was shown a tobacco-box and a sacramental cup from st. michael's church, which the poetical enthusiast mistook for a tavern goblet. "i was presented," he says, "with a japanned iron tobacco-box, of gigantic size, out of which, i was told, the vestry smoked at their stated meetings from time immemorial, and which was never suffered to be profaned by vulgar hands, or used on common occasions. i received it with becoming reverence; but what was my delight on beholding on its cover the identical painting of which i was in quest! there was displayed the outside of the 'boar's head tavern;' and before the door was to be seen the whole convivial group at table, in full revel, pictured with that wonderful fidelity and force with which the portraits of renowned generals and commodores are illustrated on tobacco-boxes, for the benefit of posterity. lest, however, there should be any mistake, the cunning limner had warily inscribed the names of prince hal and falstaff on the bottom of their chairs. "on the inside of the cover was an inscription, nearly obliterated, recording that the box was the gift of sir richard gore, for the use of the vestry meetings at the boar's head tavern, and that it was 'repaired and beautified by his successor, mr. john packard, .' such is a faithful description of this august and venerable relic; and i question whether the learned scriblerius contemplated his roman shield, or the knights of the round table the long-sought saint-greal, with more exultation. "the great importance attached to this memento of ancient revelry (the cup) by modern churchwardens at first puzzled me; but there is nothing sharpens the apprehension so much as antiquarian research; for i immediately perceived that this could be no other than the identical 'parcel-gilt goblet' on which falstaff made his loving but faithless vow to dame quickly; and which would, of course, be treasured up with care among the regalia of her domains, as a testimony of that solemn contract. "'thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my dolphin chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, on wednesday in whitsun-week, when the prince broke thy head for likening his father to a singing-man of windsor; thou didst swear to me then, as i was washing thy wound, to marry me, and make me my lady, thy wife. canst thou deny it?' (_henry iv._, part ii.) " ... for my part, i love to give myself up to the illusions of poetry. a hero of fiction, that never existed, is just as valuable to me as a hero of history that existed a thousand years since; and, if i may be excused such an insensibility to the common ties of human nature, i would not give up fat jack for half the great men of ancient chronicles. what have the heroes of yore done for me or men like me? they have conquered countries of which i do not enjoy an acre; or they have gained laurels of which i do not inherit a leaf; or they have furnished examples of hare-brained prowess, which i have neither the opportunity nor the inclination to follow. but old jack falstaff!--kind jack falstaff!--sweet jack falstaff!--has enlarged the boundaries of human enjoyment; he has added vast regions of wit and good humour, in which the poorest man may revel; and has bequeathed a never-failing inheritance of jolly laughter, to make mankind merrier and better to the latest posterity." the very name of the "boar's head," eastcheap, recalls a thousand shakespearian recollections; for here falstaff came panting from gadshill; here he snored behind the arras while prince harry laughed over his unconscionable tavern bill; and here, too, took place that wonderful scene where falstaff and the prince alternately passed judgment on each other's follies, falstaff acting the prince's father, and prince henry retorts by taking up the same part. as this is one of the finest efforts of shakespeare's comic genius, a short quotation from it, on the spot where the same was supposed to take place, will not be out of place. "_fal._ harry, i do not only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art accompanied; for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the more it wears. that thou art my son, i have partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion; but chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye, and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. if then thou be son to me, here lies the point;--why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? shall the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries? a question not to be asked. shall a son of england prove a thief, and take purses? a question to be asked. there is a thing, harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is known to many in our land by the name of pitch. this pitch, as ancient writers do report, doth defile: so doth the company thou keepest; for, harry, now i do not speak to thee in drink, but in tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only, but in woes also;--and yet there is a virtuous man, whom i have often noted in thy company, but i know not his name. "_p. hen._ what manner of man, an it like your majesty? "_fal._ a good portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look, a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as i think, his age some fifty, or, by 'r lady, inclining to three score. and, now i remember me, his name is falstaff. if that man should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, henry, i see virtue in his looks. if, then, the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, peremptorily i speak it, there is virtue in that falstaff. him keep with; the rest banish. * * * * * "_p. hen._ swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. thou art violently carried away from grace. there is a devil haunts thee, in the likeness of a fat old man; a tun of man is thy companion. why dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting hutch of beastliness, that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years? wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in his craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? * * * * * "_fal._ but to say i know more harm in him than in myself were to say more than i know. that he is old (the more the pity!), his white hairs do witness it; but that he is (saving your reverence) a whore-master, that i utterly deny. if sack and sugar be a fault, god help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that i know is damned. if to be fat be to be hated, then pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved. no, my good lord! banish peto, banish bardolph, banish poins; but for sweet jack falstaff, kind jack falstaff, true jack falstaff, valiant jack falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old jack falstaff--banish not him thy harry's company; banish not him thy harry's company! banish plump jack, and banish all the world!" "in love lane," says worthy strype, "on the north-west corner, entering into little eastcheap, is the weigh-house, built on the ground where the church of st. andrew hubbard stood before the fire of . which said weigh-house was before in cornhill. in this house are weighed merchandizes brought from beyond seas to the king's beam, to which doth belong a master, and under him four master porters, with labouring porters under them. they have carts and horses to fetch the goods from the merchants' warehouses to the beam, and to carry them back. the house belongeth to the company of grocers, in whose gift the several porters', &c., places are. but of late years little is done in this office, as wanting a compulsive power to constrain the merchants to have their goods weighed, they alleging it to be an unnecessary trouble and charge." in former times it was the usual practice for merchandise brought to london by foreign merchants to be weighed at the king's beam in the presence of sworn officials. the fees varied from d. to s. a draught; while for a bag of hops the uniform charge was d. [illustration: the weigh-house chapel (_see page _).] the presbyterian chapel in the weigh-house was founded by samuel slater and thomas kentish, two divines driven by the act of uniformity from st. katherine's in the tower. the first-named minister, slater, has distinguished himself by his devotion during the dreadful plague which visited london in (charles i.). kentish, of whom calamy entertained a high opinion, had been persecuted by the government. knowle, another minister of this chapel, had fled to new england to escape laud's cat-like gripe. in cromwell's time he had been lecturer at bristol cathedral, and had there greatly exasperated the quakers. knowles and kentish are said to have been so zealous as sometimes to preach till they fainted. in thomas reynolds's time a new chapel was built at the king's weigh-house. reynolds, a friend of the celebrated howe, had studied at geneva and at utrecht. he died in , declaring that, though he had hitherto dreaded death, he was rising to heaven on a bed of roses. after the celebrated quarrel between the subscribers and non-subscribers, a controversy took place about psalmody, which the weigh-house ministers stoutly defended. samuel wilton, another minister of weigh-house chapel, was a pupil of dr. kippis, and an apologist for the war of independence. john clayton, chosen for this chapel in , was the son of a lancashire cotton-bleacher, and was converted by romaine, and patronised by the excellent countess of huntingdon; he used to relate how he had been pelted with rotten eggs when preaching in the open air near christchurch. while itinerating for lady huntingdon, clayton became acquainted with sir h. trelawney, a young cornish baronet, who became a dissenting minister, and eventually joined the "rational party." an interesting anecdote is told of trelawney's marriage in . for his bride he took a beautiful girl, who, apparently without her lover's knowledge, annulled a prior engagement, in order to please her parents by securing for herself a more splendid station. the spectacle was a gay one when, after their honeymoon, sir harry and his wife returned to his seat at looe, to be welcomed home by his friend clayton and the servants of the establishment. the young baronet proceeded to open a number of letters, and during the perusal of one in particular his countenance changed, betokening some shock sustained by his nervous system. evening wore into night, but he would neither eat nor converse. at length he confessed to clayton that he had received an affecting expostulation from his wife's former lover, who had written, while ignorant of the marriage, calling on trelawney as a gentleman to withdraw his claims on the lady's affections. this affair is supposed to have influenced sir harry more or less till the end of his days, although his married life continued to flow on happily. clayton was ordained at the weigh house chapel in ; the church, with one exception, unanimously voted for him--the one exception, a lady, afterwards became the new minister's wife. of clayton robert hall said, "he was the most favoured man i ever saw or ever heard of." he died in . clayton's successor, the eloquent thomas binney, was pastor of weigh house chapel for more than forty years. so ends the chronicle of the weigh house worthies. [illustration: miles coverdale (_see page _).] chapter l. the monument and its neighbourhood. the monument--how shall it be fashioned?--commemorative inscriptions--the monument's place in history--suicides and the monument--the great fire of london--on the top of the monument by night--the source of the fire--a terrible description--miles coverdale--st. magnus, london bridge. the monument, a fluted doric column, raised to commemorate the great fire of london, was designed by wren, who, as usual, was thwarted in his original intentions. it stands feet from the site of the baker's house in pudding lane where the fire first broke out. wren's son, in his "parentalia," thus describes the difficulties which his father met with in carrying out his design. says wren, junior: "in the place of the brass urn on the top (which is not artfully performed, and was set up contrary to his opinion) was originally intended a colossal statue in brass gilt of king charles ii., as founder of the new city, in the manner of the roman pillars, which terminated with the statues of their cæsars; or else a figure erect of a woman crown'd with turrets, holding a sword and cap of maintenance, with other ensigns of the city's grandeur and re-erection. the altitude from the pavement is feet; the diameter of the shaft (or body) of the column is feet; the ground bounded by the plinth or lowest part of the pedestal is feet square, and the pedestal in height is feet. within is a large staircase of black marble, containing steps - / inches broad and inches risers. over the capital is an iron balcony encompassing a cippus, or meta, feet high, supporting a blazing urn of brass gilt. prior to this the surveyor (as it appears by an original drawing) had made a design of a pillar of somewhat less proportion--viz., feet in diameter, and after a peculiar device; for as the romans expressed by _relievo_ on the pedestals and round the shafts of their columns the history of such actions and incidents as were intended to be thereby commemorated, so this monument of the conflagration and resurrection of the city of london was represented by a pillar in flames. the flames, blazing from the loopholes of the shaft (which were to give light to the stairs within), were figured in brass-work gilt; and on the top was a phoenix rising from her ashes, of brass gilt likewise." the following are, or rather were, the inscriptions on the four sides of the monument:-- south side. "charles the second, son of charles the martyr, king of great britain, france, and ireland, defender of the faith, a most generous prince, commiserating the deplorable state of things, whilst the ruins were yet smoking, provided for the comfort of his citizens and the ornament of his city, remitted their taxes, and referred the petitions of the magistrates and inhabitants to the parliament, who immediately passed an act that public works should be restored to greater beauty with public money, to be raised by an imposition on coals; that churches, and the cathedral of saint paul, should be rebuilt from their foundations, with all magnificence; that bridges, gates, and prisons should be new made, the sewers cleansed, the streets made straight and regular, such as were steep levelled, and those too narrow made wider; markets and shambles removed to separate places. they also enacted that every house should be built with party-walls, and all in front raised of equal height, and those walls all of square stone or brick, and that no man should delay building beyond the space of seven years. moreover, care was taken by law to prevent all suits about their bounds. also anniversary prayers were enjoined; and to perpetuate the memory hereof to posterity, they caused this column to be erected. the work was carried on with diligence, and london is restored, but whether with greater speed or beauty may be made a question. at three years' time the world saw that finished which was supposed to be the business of an age." north side. "in the year of christ , the second day of september, eastward from hence, at the distance of two hundred and two feet (the height of this column), about midnight, a most terrible fire broke out, which, driven on by a high wind, not only wasted the adjacent parts, but also places very remote, with incredible noise and fury. it consumed eighty-nine churches, the city gates, guildhall, many public structures, hospitals, schools, libraries, a vast number of stately edifices, thirteen thousand two hundred dwelling-houses, four hundred streets. of the six-and-twenty wards it utterly destroyed fifteen, and left eight others shattered and half burnt. the ruins of the city were four hundred and thirty-six acres, from the tower by the thames side to the temple church, and from the north-east along the city wall to holborn bridge. to the estates and fortunes of the citizens it was merciless, but to their lives very favourable, that it might in all things resemble the last conflagration of the world. the destruction was sudden, for in a small space of time the city was seen most flourishing, and reduced to nothing. three days after, when this fatal fire had baffled all human counsels and endeavours in the opinion of all, it stopped as it were by a command from heaven, and was on every side extinguished." east side. "this pillar was begun, sir richard ford, knight, being lord mayor of london, in the year , carried on in the mayoralties of sir george waterman, kt. } sir robert hanson, kt. } sir william hooker, kt. } lord mayors, sir robert viner, kt. } sir joseph sheldon, kt. } and finished, sir thomas davies being lord mayor, in the year ." west side. "this pillar was set up in perpetual remembrance of the most dreadful burning of this protestant city, begun and carried on by the treachery and malice of the popish faction, in the beginning of september, in the year of our lord mdclxvi., in order to the effecting their horrid plot for the extirpating the protestant religion and english liberties, and to introduce popery and slavery." "the basis of the monument," says strype, "on that side toward the street, hath a representation of the destruction of the city by the fire, and the restitution of it, by several curiously engraven figures in full proportion. first is the figure of a woman representing london, sitting on ruins, in a most disconsolate posture, her head hanging down, and her hair all loose about her; the sword lying by her, and her left hand carefully laid upon it. a second figure is time, with his wings and bald head, coming behind her and gently lifting her up. another female figure on the side of her, laying her hand upon her, and with a sceptre winged in her other hand, directing her to look upwards, for it points up to two beautiful goddesses sitting in the clouds, one leaning upon a cornucopia, denoting plenty, the other having a palm-branch in her left hand, signifying victory, or triumph. underneath this figure of london in the midst of the ruins is a dragon with his paw upon the shield of a red cross, london's arms. over her head is the description of houses burning, and flames breaking out through the windows. behind her are citizens looking on, and some lifting up their hands. "opposite against these figures is a pavement of stone raised, with three or four steps, on which appears king charles ii., in roman habit, with a truncheon in his right hand and a laurel about his head, coming towards the woman in the foresaid despairing posture, and giving orders to three others to descend the steps towards her. the first hath wings on her head, and in her hand something resembling a harp. then another figure of one going down the steps following her, resembling architecture, showing a scheme or model for building of the city, held in the right hand, and the left holding a square and compasses. behind these two stands another figure, more obscure, holding up an hat, denoting liberty. next behind the king is the duke of york, holding a garland, ready to crown the rising city, and a sword lifted up in the other hand to defend her. behind this a third figure, with an earl's coronet on his head. a fourth figure behind all, holding a lion with a bridle in his mouth. over these figures is represented an house in building, and a labourer going up a ladder with an hodd upon his back. lastly, underneath the stone pavement whereon the king stands is a good figure of envy peeping forth, gnawing a heart." the bas-relief on the pediment of the monument was carved by a danish sculptor, caius gabriel cibber, the father of the celebrated comedian and comedy writer colley cibber; the four dragons at the four angles are by edward pierce. the latin inscriptions were written by dr. gale, dean of york, and the whole structure was erected in six years, for the sum of £ , . the paragraphs denouncing popish incendiaries were not written by gale, but were added in , during the madness of the popish plot. they were obliterated by james ii., but cut again deeper than before in the reign of william iii., and finally erased in , to the great credit of the common council. wren at first intended to have had flames of gilt brass coming out of every loophole of the monument, and on the top a phoenix rising from the flames, also in brass gilt. he eventually abandoned this idea, partly on account of the expense, and also because the spread wings of the phoenix would present too much resistance to the wind. moreover, the fabulous bird at that height would not have been understood. charles ii. preferred a gilt ball, and the present vase of flames was then decided on. defoe compares the monument to a lighted candle. the monument is loftier than the pillars of trajan and antoninus, at rome, or that of theodosius at constantinople; and it is not only the loftiest, but also the finest isolated column in the world. it was at first used by the members of the royal society for astronomical purposes, but was abandoned on account of its vibration being too great for the nicety required in their observations. hence the report that the monument is unsafe, which has been revived in our time; "but," says elwes, "its scientific construction may bid defiance to the attacks of all but earthquakes for centuries to come." a large print of the monument represents the statue of charles placed, for comparative effect, beside a sectional view of the apex, as constructed. wren's autograph report on the designs for the summit were added to the mss. in the british museum in . a model, scale one-eighth of an inch to the foot, of the scaffolding used in building the monument is preserved. it formerly belonged to sir william chambers, and was presented by heathcote russell, c.e., to the late sir isambard brunel, who left it to his son, mr. i.k. brunel. the ladders were of the rude construction of wren's time--two uprights, with treads or rounds nailed on the face. on june , , the monument was illuminated with portable gas, in commemoration of laying the first stone of new london bridge. a lamp was placed at each of the loopholes of the column, to give the idea of its being wreathed with flame; whilst two other series were placed on the edges of the gallery, to which the public were admitted during the evening. certain spots in london have become popular with suicides, yet apparently without any special reason, except that even suicides are vain and like to die with _éclat_. waterloo bridge is chosen for its privacy; the monument used to be chosen, we presume, for its height and quietude. five persons have destroyed themselves by leaps from the monument. the first of these unhappy creatures was william green, a weaver, in . on june this man, wearing a green apron, the sign of his craft, came to the monument door, and left his watch with the doorkeeper. a few minutes after he was heard to fall. eighteen guineas were found in his pocket. the next man who fell from the monument was thomas craddock, a baker. he was not a suicide; but, in reaching over to see an eagle which was hung in a cage from the bars, he overbalanced himself, and was killed. the next victim was lyon levi, a jew diamond merchant in embarrassed circumstances, who destroyed himself on the th of january, . the third suicide (september , ) was a young woman named margaret meyer. this poor girl was the daughter of a baker in hemming's row, st. martin's-in-the-fields. her mother was dead, her father bed-ridden, and there being a large family, it had become necessary for her to go out to service, which preyed upon her mind. the october following, a boy named hawes, who had been that morning discharged by his master, a surgeon, threw himself from the same place. he was of unsound mind, and his father had killed himself. the last suicide was in august, , when a servant-girl from hoxton, named jane cooper, while the watchman had his head turned, nimbly climbed over the iron railing, tucked her clothes tight between her knees, and dived head-fore-most downwards. in her fall she struck the griffin on the right side of the base of the monument, and, rebounding into the road, cleared a cart in the fall. the cause of this act was not discovered. suicides being now fashionable here, the city of london (not a moment too soon) caged in the top of the monument in the present ugly way. the rev. samuel rolle, writing of the great fire in , says--"if london its self be not the doleful monument of its own destruction, by always lying in ashes (which god forbid it should), it is provided for by act of parliament, that after its restauration, a pillar, either of brass or stone, should be erected, in perpetual memory of its late most dismall conflagration." "where the fire began, there, or as near as may be to that place, must the pillar be erected (if ever there be any such). if we commemorate the places where our miseries began, surely the causes whence they sprang (the meritorious causes, or sins, are those i now intend) should be thought of much more. if such a lane burnt london, sin first burnt that lane; _causa, causa est causa causatio; affliction springs not out of the dust_; not but that it may spring thence immediately (as if the dust of the earth should be turned into lice), but primarily and originally it springs up elsewhere. "as for the inscription that ought to be upon that pillar (whether of brass or stone), i must leave it to their piety and prudence, to whom the wisdom of the parliament hath left it; only three things i both wish and hope concerning it. the first is, that it may be very humble, giving god the glory of his righteous judgments, and taking to ourselves the shame of our great demerits. secondly, that the confession which shall be there engraven may be as impartial as the judgement itself was; not charging the guilt for which that fire came upon a few only, but acknowledging that all have sinned, as all have been punished. far be it from any man to say that his sins did not help to burn london, that cannot say also (and who that is i know not) that neither he nor any of his either is, or are ever like to be, anything the worse for that dreadful fire. lastly, whereas some of the same religion with those that did hatch the powder-plot are, and have been, vehemently suspected to have been the incendiaries, by whose means london was burned, i earnestly desire that if time and further discovery be able to acquit them from any such guilt, that pillar may record their innocency, and may make themselves as _an iron pillar or brazen wall_ (as i may allude to jer. i. ) against all the accusations of those that suspect them; but if, in deed and in truth, that fire either came or was carried on and continued by their treachery, that the inscription of the pillar may consigne over their names to perpetual hatred and infamy." "then was god to his people as a shadow from the heat of the rage of their enemies, as a wall of fire for their protection; but this pillar calls that time to remembrance, in which god covered himself, as with a cloud, that the prayers of londoners should not passe unto him, and came forth, not as a conserving, but as a consuming fire, not for, but against, poor london." roger north, in his life of sir dudley, mentions the monument when still in its first bloom. "he (sir dudley north)," he says, "took pleasure in surveying the monument, and comparing it with mosque-towers, and what of that kind he had seen abroad. we mounted up to the top, and one after another crept up the hollow iron frame that carries the copper head and flames above. we went out at a rising plate of iron that hinged, and there found convenient irons to hold by. we made use of them, and raised our bodies entirely above the flames, having only our legs to the knees within; and there we stood till we were satisfied with the prospect from thence. i cannot describe how hard it was to persuade ourselves we stood safe, so likely did our weight seem to throw down the whole fabric." addison takes care to show his tory fox-hunter the famed monument. "we repaired," says the amiable essayist, "to the monument, where my fellow-traveller (the tory fox-hunter), being a well-breathed man, mounted the ascent with much speed and activity. i was forced to halt so often in this particular march, that, upon my joining him on the top of the pillar, i found he had counted all the steeples and towers which were discernible from this advantageous situation, and was endeavouring to compute the number of acres they stood on. we were both of us very well pleased with this part of the prospect; but i found he cast an evil eye upon several warehouses and other buildings, which looked like barns, and seemed capable of receiving great multitudes of people. his heart misgave him that these were so many meeting-houses; but, upon communicating his suspicions to me, i soon made him easy in that particular. we then turned our eyes upon the river, which gave me an occasion to inspire him with some favourable thoughts of trade and merchandise, that had filled the thames with such crowds of ships, and covered the shore with such swarms of people. we descended very leisurely, my friend being careful to count the steps, which he registered in a blank leaf of his new almanack. upon our coming to the bottom, observing an english inscription upon the basis, he read it over several times, and told me he could scarce believe his own eyes, for he had often heard from an old attorney who lived near him in the country that it was the presbyterians who burnt down the city, 'whereas,' says he, 'the pillar positively affirms, in so many words, that the burning of this antient city was begun and carried on by the treachery and malice of the popish faction, in order to the carrying on their horrid plot for extirpating the protestant religion and old english liberty, and introducing popery and slavery.' this account, which he looked upon to be more authentic than if it had been in print, i found, made a very great impression upon him." ned ward is very severe on the monument. "as you say, this edifice," he says, "as well as some others, was projected as a memorandum of the fire, or an ornament to the city, but gave those corrupted magistrates that had the power in their hands the opportunity of putting two thousand pounds into their own pockets, whilst they paid one towards the building. i must confess, all i think can be spoke in praise of it is, _'tis a monument to the city's shame, the orphan's grief, the protestant's pride, and the papist's scandal; and only serves as a high-crowned hat, to cover the head of the old fellow that shows it_." pope, as a catholic, looked with horror on the monument, and wrote bitterly of it-- "where london's column, pointing at the skies, like a tall bully, lifts the head and lies, there dwelt a citizen of sober fame, a plain good man, and balaam was his name." "at the end of littleton's dictionary," says southey, "is an inscription for the monument, wherein this very learned scholar proposes a name for it worthy, for its length, of a sanscrit legend. it is a word which extends through seven degrees of longitude, being designed to commemorate the names of the seven lord mayors of london under whose respective mayoralties the monument was begun, continued, and completed:-- "'quam non una aliqua ac simplici voce, uti istam quondam duilianam; sed, ut vero eam nomine indigites, vocabulo constructiliter heptastico, fordo--watermanno--hansono--hookero--vinero--sheldono--davisianam appellare opportebit.' "well might adam littleton call this an _heptastic vocable_, rather than a word." (southey, "omniana.") mr. john hollingshead, an admirable modern essayist, in a chapter in "under bow bells," entitled "a night on the monument," has given a most powerful sketch of night, moonlight, and daybreak from the top of the monument. "the puppet men," he says, "now hurry to and fro, lighting up the puppet shops, which cast a warm, rich glow upon the pavement. a cross of dotted lamps springs into light, the four arms of which are the four great thoroughfares from the city. red lines of fire come out behind black, solid, sullen masses of building; and spires of churches stand out in strong, dark relief at the side of busy streets. up in the housetops, under green-shaded lamps, you may see the puppet clerks turning quickly over the clean, white, fluttering pages of puppet day-books and ledgers; and from east to west you see the long, silent river, glistening here and there with patches of reddish light, even through the looped steeple of the church of st. magnus the martyr. then, in a white circle of light round the city, dart out little nebulous clusters of houses, some of them high up in the air, mingling, in appearance, with the stars of heaven; some with one lamp, some with two or more; some yellow, and some red; and some looking like bunches of fiery grapes in the congress of twinkling suburbs. then the bridges throw up their arched lines of lamps, like the illuminated garden-walks at cremorne.... "the moon has now increased in power, and, acting on the mist, brings out the surrounding churches one by one. there they stand in the soft light, a noble army of temples thickly sprinkled amongst the money-changers. any taste may be suited in structural design. there are high churches, low churches; flat churches; broad churches, narrow churches; square, round, and pointed churches; churches with towers like cubical slabs sunk deeply in between the roofs of houses; towers like toothpicks, like three-pronged forks, like pepper-casters, like factory chimneys, like limekilns, like a sailor's trousers hung up to dry, like bottles of fish-sauce, and like st. paul's--a balloon turned topsy-turvy. there they stand, like giant spectral watchmen guarding the silent city, whose beating heart still murmurs in its sleep. at the hour of midnight they proclaim, with iron tongue, the advent of a new year, mingling a song of joy with a wail for the departed.... [illustration: wren's original design for the summit of the monument (_see page _).] "the dark grey churches and houses spring into existence one by one. the streets come up out of the land, and the bridges come up out of the water. the bustle of commerce, and the roar of the great human ocean--which has never been altogether silent--revive. the distant turrets of the tower, and the long line of shipping on the river, become visible. clear smoke still flows over the housetops, softening their outlines, and turning them into a forest of frosted trees. "above all this is a long black mountain-ridge of cloud, tipped with glittering gold; beyond float deep orange and light yellow ridges, bathed in a faint purple sea. through the black ridge struggles a full, rich, purple sun, the lower half of his disc tinted with grey. gradually, like blood-red wine running into a round bottle, the purple overcomes the grey; and at the same time the black cloud divides the face of the sun into two sections, like the visor of a harlequin." [illustration: the monument and the church of st. magnus, about . (_from an old view._)] in a sailor is recorded to have slid down a rope from the gallery to the "three tuns" tavern, gracechurch street; as did also, next day, a waterman's boy. in the _times_ newspaper of august , , there appeared the following hoaxing advertisement: "incredible as it may appear, a person will attend at the monument, and will, for the sum of £ , , undertake to jump clear off the said monument; and in coming down will drink some beer and eat a cake, act some trades, shorten and make sail, and bring ship safe to anchor. as soon as the sum stated is collected, the performance will take place; and if not performed, the money subscribed to be returned to the subscribers." the great fire of broke out at the shop of one farryner, the king's baker, , pudding lane. the following inscription was placed by some zealous protestants over the house, when rebuilt:--"here, by the permission of heaven, hell broke loose upon this protestant city, from the malicious hearts of barbarous priests, by the hand of their agent, hubert, who confessed and on the ruins of this place declared the fact for which he was hanged--viz., that here begun that dreadful fire which is described on and perpetuated by the neighbouring pillar, erected anno , in the mayoralty of sir patience ward, kt." this celebrated inscription (says cunningham), set up pursuant to an order of the court of common council, june th, , was removed in the reign of james ii., replaced in the reign of william iii., and finally taken down, "on account of the stoppage of passengers to read it." entick, who made additions to maitland in , speaks of it as "lately taken away." the fire was for a long time attributed to hubert, a crazed french papist of five or six and twenty years of age, the son of a watchmaker at rouen, in normandy. he was seized in essex, confessed he had begun the fire, and persisting in his confession to his death, was hanged, upon no other evidence than that of his own confession. he stated in his examination that he had been "suborned at paris to this action," and that there were three more combined to do the same thing. they asked him if he knew the place where he had first put fire. he answered that he "knew it very well, and would show it to anybody." he was then ordered to be blindfolded and carried to several places of the city, that he might point out the house. they first led him to a place at some distance from it, opened his eyes, and asked him if that was it, to which he answered, "no, it was lower, nearer to the thames." "the house and all which were near it," says clarendon, "were so covered and buried in ruins, that the owners themselves, without some infallible mark, could very hardly have said where their own houses had stood; but this man led them directly to the place, described how it stood, the shape of the little yard, the fashion of the doors and windows, and where he first put the fire, and all this with such exactness, that they who had dwelt long near it could not so perfectly have described all particulars." tillotson told burnet that howell, the then recorder of london, accompanied hubert on this occasion, "was with him, and had much discourse with him; and that he concluded it was impossible it could be a melancholy dream." this, however, was not the opinion of the judges who tried him. "neither the judges," says clarendon, "nor any present at the trial, did believe him guilty, but that he was a poor distracted wretch, weary of his life, and chose to part with it this way." a few notes about the great fire will here be interesting. pepys gives a graphic account of its horrors. in one place he writes--"everybody endeavouring to remove their goods, and flinging into the river, or bringing them into lighters that lay off; poor people staying in their houses as long as till the very fire touched them, and then running into boats, or clambering from one pair of stairs by the waterside to another. and, among other things, the poor pigeons, i perceive, were loth to leave their houses, but hovered about the windows and balconys till they burned their wings and fell down. having staid, and in an hour's time seen the fire rage every way, and nobody, to my sight, endeavouring to quench it, but to remove their goods and leave all to the fire." but by far the most vivid conception of the fire is to be found in a religious book written by the rev. samuel vincent, who expresses the feelings of the moment with a singular force. says the writer: "it was the nd of september, , that the anger of the lord was kindled against london, and the fire began. it began in a baker's house in pudding lane, by fish street hill; and now the lord is making london like a fiery oven in the time of his anger (psalm xxi. ), and in his wrath doth devour and swallow up our habitations. it was in the depth and dead of the night, when most doors and senses were lockt up in the city, that the fire doth break forth and appear abroad, and like a mighty giant refresht with wine doth awake and arm itself, quickly gathers strength, when it had made havoc of some houses, rusheth down the hill towards the bridge, crosseth thames street, invadeth magnus church at the bridge foot, and, though that church were so great, yet it was not a sufficient barricade against this conqueror; but having scaled and taken this fort, it shooteth flames with so much the greater advantage into all places round about, and a great building of houses upon the bridge is quickly thrown to the ground. then the conqueror, being stayed in his course at the bridge, marcheth back towards the city again, and runs along with great noise and violence through thames street westward, where, having such combustible matter in its teeth, and such a fierce wind upon its back, it prevails with little resistance, unto the astonishment of the beholders. "my business is not to speak of the hand of man, which was made use of in the beginning and carrying on of this fire. the beginning of the fire at such a time, when there had been so much hot weather, which had dried the houses and made them more fit for fuel; the beginning of it in such a place, where there were so many timber houses, and the shops filled with so much combustible matter; and the beginning of it just when the wind did blow so fiercely upon that corner towards the rest of the city, which then was like tinder to the spark; this doth smell of a popish design, hatcht in the same place where the gunpowder plot was contrived, only that this was more successful. "then, then the city did shake indeed, and the inhabitants flew away in great amazement from their houses, lest the flame should devour them. rattle, rattle, rattle, was the noise which the fire struck upon the ear round about, as if there had been a thousand iron chariots beating upon the stones; and if you opened your eye to the opening of the streets where the fire was come, you might see in some places whole streets at once in flames, that issued forth as if they had been so many great forges from the opposite windows, which, folding together, were united into one great flame throughout the whole street; and then you might see the houses tumble, tumble, tumble, from one end of the street to the other, with a great crash, leaving the foundations open to the view of the heavens." the original church of st. magnus, london bridge, was of great antiquity; for we learn that in hugh pourt, sheriff of london, and his wife margaret, founded a charity here; and the first rector mentioned by newcourt is robert de st. albano, who resigned his living in . it stood almost at the foot of old london bridge; and the incumbent of the chapel on the bridge paid an annual sum to the rector of st. magnus for the diminution of the fees which the chapel might draw away. three lord mayors are known to have been buried in st. magnus'; and here, in the chapel of st. mary, was interred henry yevele, a freemason to edward iii., richard ii., and henry iv. this yevele had assisted to erect the bust of richard ii. at westminster abbey between the years - , and also assisted in restoring westminster hall. he founded a charity in this church, and died in . in old times the patronage of st. magnus' was exercised alternately by the abbots of westminster and bermondsey; but after the dissolution it fell to the crown, and queen mary, in , bestowed it on the bishop of london. in arnold's "chronicles" (end of the fifteenth century) the church is noted as much neglected, and the services insufficiently performed. the ordinary remarks that divers of the priests and clerks spent the time of divine service in taverns and ale-houses, and in fishing and "other trifles." the church was destroyed at an early period of the great fire. it was rebuilt by wren in . the parish was then united with that of st. margaret, new fish street hill; and at a later period st. michael's, crooked lane, has also been annexed. on the top of the square tower, which is terminated with an open parapet, wren has introduced an octagon lantern of very simple and pleasing design, crowned by a cupola and short spire. we must here, once for all, remark on the fertility of invention displayed by wren in varying constantly the form of his steeples. the interior of the church is divided into a nave and side aisles by doric columns, that support an entablature from which rises the camerated ceiling. "the general proportions of the church," says mr. godwin, "are pleasing; but the columns are too slight, the space between them too wide, and the result is a disagreeable feeling of insecurity." the altar-piece, adorned with the figure of a pelican feeding her young, is richly carved and gilded. the large organ, built by jordan in , was presented by sir charles duncomb, who gave the clock in remembrance of having himself, when a boy, been detained on this spot, ignorant of the time. stow gives a curious account of a religious service attached to this church. the following deed is still extant:-- "that rauf capelyn du bailiff, will. double, fishmonger, roger lowher, chancellor, henry boseworth, vintner, steven lucas, stock fishmonger, and other of the better of the parish of st. magnus', near the bridge of london, of their great devotion, and to the honour of god and the glorious mother our lady mary the virgin, began and caused to be made a chauntry, to sing an anthem of our lady, called _salve regina_, every evening; and thereupon ordained five burning wax lights at the time of the said anthem, in the honour and reverence of the five principal joys of our lady aforesaid, and for exciting the people to devotion at such an hour, the more to merit to their souls. and thereupon many other good people of the same parish, seeing the great honesty of the said service and devotion, proffered to be aiders and partners to support the said lights and the said anthem to be continually sung, paying to every person every week an halfpenny; and so that hereafter, with the gift that the people shall give to the sustentation of the said light and anthem, there shall be to find a chaplain singing in the said church for all the benefactors of the said light and anthem." miles coverdale, the great reformer, was a rector of st. magnus'. coverdale was in early life an augustinian monk, but being converted to protestantism, he exerted his best faculties and influence in defending the cause. in august, , he was advanced to the see of exeter, and availed himself of that station to preach frequently in the cathedral and in other churches of exeter. thomas lord cromwell patronised him; and queen catherine parr appointed him her almoner. at the funeral of that ill-fated lady he preached a sermon at sudeley castle. when mary came to the throne, she soon exerted her authority in tyrannically ejecting and persecuting this amiable and learned prelate. by an act of council ( - ) he was allowed to "passe towards denmarche with two servants, his bagges and baggage," where he remained till the death of the queen. on returning home, he declined to be reinstated in his see, but repeatedly preached at paul's cross, and, from conscientious scruples, continued to live in obscurity and indigence till , when he was presented to the rectory of st. magnus', london bridge, which he resigned in two years. dying in the year , at the age of eighty-one, he was interred in this church. coverdale's labours in bible translation are worth notice. in coverdale appears to have been abroad assisting tyndale in his translation of the bible; and in his own folio translation of the bible (printed, it is supposed, at zurich), with a dedication to henry viii., was published. this was the first english bible allowed by royal authority, and the first translation of the whole bible printed in our language. the psalms in it are those we now use in the book of common prayer. about coverdale went to paris to superintend a new edition of the bible printing in paris by permission of francis i. the inquisition, however, seized nearly all the , copies (only a few books escaping), and committed them to the flames. the rescued copies enabled grafton and whitchurch, in , to print what is called cranmer's, or the great bible, which coverdale collated with the hebrew. this great bible scholar was thrown into prison by queen mary, and on his release went to geneva, where he assisted in producing the geneva translation of the bible, which was completed in . coverdale, like wickliffe, was a yorkshireman. against the east wall, on the south side of the communion-table, is a handsome gothic panel of statuary marble, on a black slab, with a representation of an open bible above it, and thus inscribed:-- "to the memory of miles coverdale, who, convinced that the pure word of god ought to be the sole rule of our faith and guide of our practice, laboured earnestly for its diffusion; and with the view of affording the means of reading and hearing in their own tongue the wonderful works of god not only to his own country, but to the nations that sit in darkness, and to every creature wheresoever the english language might be spoken, he spent many years of his life in preparing a translation of the scriptures. on the th of october, , the first complete printed english version of _the bible_ was published under his direction. the parishioners of st. magnus the martyr, desirous of acknowledging the mercy of god, and calling to mind that miles coverdale was once rector of their parish, erected this monument to his memory, a.d. . "'how beautiful are the feet of them that preach the gospel of peace, and bring glad tidings of good things.'--isaiah lii. ." in the vestry-room, which is now at the south-west corner of the church, there is a curious drawing of the interior of old fishmongers' hall on the occasion of the presentation of a pair of colours to the military association of bridge ward by mrs. hibbert. many of the figures are portraits. there is also a painting of old london bridge, and a clever portrait of the late mr. r. hazard, who was attached to the church as sexton, clerk, and ward beadle for nearly fifty years. the church was much injured in by a fire which broke out in an adjoining oil-shop. the roof was destroyed, and the vestry-room entirely consumed. the repairs cost £ , . the vestry-room was scarcely completed before it had to be taken down, with part of the church, in order to make a passage-way under the steeple to the old bridge, the road having been found dangerously narrow. it was proposed to cut an archway out of the two side walls of the tower to form a thoroughfare; and when the buildings were removed, it was discovered that wren, foreseeing the probability of such a want arising, had arranged everything to their hands, and that the alteration was effected with the utmost ease. chapter li. chaucer's london. london denizens in the reigns of edward iii. and richard ii.--the knight--the young bachelor--the yeoman--the prioress--the monk who goes a hunting--the merchant--the poor clerk--the franklin--the shipman--the poor parson. the london of chaucer's time (the reigns of edward iii. and richard ii.) was a scattered town, spotted as thick with gardens as a common meadow is with daisies. hovels stood cheek by jowl with stately monasteries, and the fortified mansions in the narrow city lanes were surrounded by citizens' stalls and shops. westminster palace, out in the suburbs among fields and marshes, was joined to the city walls by that long straggling street of bishops' and nobles' palaces, called the strand. the tower and the savoy were still royal residences. in all the west-end beyond charing cross, and in all the north of london beyond clerkenwell and holborn, cows and horses grazed, milkmaids sang, and ploughmen whistled. there was danger in st. john's wood and tyburn fields, and robbers on hampstead heath. the heron could be found in marylebone pastures, and moor-hens in the brooks round paddington. priestly processions were to be seen in cheapside, where the great cumbrous signs, blazoned with all known and many unknown animals, hung above the open stalls, where the staid merchants and saucy 'prentices shouted the praises of their goods. the countless church-bells rang ceaselessly, to summon the pious to prayers. among the street crowds the monks and men-at-arms were numerous, and were conspicuous by their robes and by their armour. with the manners and customs of those simple times our readers will now be pretty well familiar, for we have already written of the knights and priests of that age, and have described their good and evil doings. we have set down their epitaphs, detailed the history of their city companies, their mayors, aldermen, and turbulent citizens. we have shown their buildings, and spoken of their revolts against injustice. yet, after all, time has destroyed many pieces of that old puzzle, and who can dive into oblivion and recover them? the long rows of gable ends, the abbey archways, the old guild rooms, the knightly chambers, no magic can restore to us in perfect combination. while certain spots can be etched with exactitude by the pen, on vast tracts no image rises. a dimmed and imperfect picture it remains, we must confess, even to the most vivid imagination. how the small details of city life worked in those days we shall never know. we may reproduce edward iii.'s london on the stage, or in poems; but, after all, and at the best, it will be conjecture. but of many of those people who paced in watling street, or who rode up cornhill, we have imperishable pictures, true to the life, and rich-coloured as titian's, by chaucer, in those "canterbury tales" he is supposed to have written about (richard ii.), in advanced life, and in his peaceful retirement at woodstock. the pilgrims he paints in his immortal bundle of tales are no ideal creatures, but such real flesh and blood as shakespeare drew and hogarth engraved. he drew the people of his age as genius most delights to do; and the fame he gained arose chiefly from the fidelity of the figures with which he filled, his wonderful portrait-gallery. we, therefore, in chaucer's knight, are introduced to just such old warriors as might any day, in the reign of edward iii., be met in bow lane or friday street, riding to pay his devoirs to some noble of thames street, to solicit a regiment, or to claim redress for a wrong by force of arms. the great bell of bow may have struck the hour of noon as the man who rode into pagan alexandria, under the banner of the christian king of cyprus, and who had broken a spear against the moors at the siege of granada, rides by on his strong but not showy charger. he wears, you see, a fustian gipon, which is stained with the rust of his armour. there is no plume in his helmet, no gold upon his belt, for he is just come from anatolia, where he has smitten off many a turbaned head, and to-morrow will start to thank god for his safe return at the shrine of st. thomas in kent. in sooth it needs only a glance at him to see that he is "a very perfect gentle knight," meek as a maid, and trusty as his own sword. that trusty young bachelor who rides so gaily by the old knight's side, and who regards him with love and reverence, is his son, a brave young knight of twenty years of age, as we guess. he has borne him well in flanders, artois, and picardy, and has watered many a french vineyard with french blood. see how smart he is in his short gown and long wide sleeves. he can joust, and dance, and sing, and write love verses, with any one between here and paris. the citizens' daughters devour him with their eyes as he rides under their casements. there rides behind this worthy pair a stout yeoman, such as you can see a dozen of every morning, in this reign, in ten minutes' walk down cheapside, for the nobles' houses in the city swarm with such retainers--sturdy, brown-faced country fellows, quick of quarrel, and not disposed to bear gibes. he wears a coat and hood of lincoln green, and has a sword, dagger, horn, and buckler by his side. the sheaf of arrows at his girdle have peacock-feathers. ten to one but that fellow let fly many a shaft at cressy and poictiers, for he is fond of saying, over his ale-bowl, that he carries "ten frenchmen's lives under his belt." the prioress chaucer sketches so daintily might have been seen any day ambling through bishopsgate from her country nunnery, on her way to shrine or altar, or on a visit to some noble patroness to whom she is akin. "by st. eloy!" she cries to her mule, "if thou stumble again i will chide thee!" and she says it in the french of stratford at bow. her wimple is trimly plaited, and how fashionable is her cloak! she wears twisted round her arm a pair of coral beads, and from them hangs a gold ornament with the unecclesiastical motto of "amor vincit omnia." behind her rides a nun and three priests, and by the side of her mule run the little greyhounds whom she feeds, and on whom she doats. the rich monk that loved hunting was a character that any monastery of chaucer's london could furnish. go early in the morning to aldersgate or cripplegate, and you will be sure to find such a one riding out with his greyhounds and falcon. his dress is rich, for he does not sneer at worldly pleasures. his sleeves are trimmed with fur, and the pin that fastens his hood is a gold love-knot. his brown palfrey is fat, like its master, who does not despise a roast thames swan for dinner, and whose face shines with good humour and good living. it is such men as these that wycliffe's followers deride, and point the finger at; but they forget that the church uses strong arguments with perverse adversaries. to find chaucer's merchant you need not go further than a few yards from milk street. there you will see him at any stall, grave, and with forked beard; on his head a flemish beaver hat, and his boots "full fetishly" clasped. he talks much of profits and exchanges, and the necessity of guarding the sea from the french between middleburgh and the essex ports. chaucer's poor lean oxford clerk you will find in paul's, peering about the tombs, as if looking for a benefice. all his riches, worthy man! are some twenty books at his bed's head, and he is talking philosophy to a fellow-student lean and thin as himself, to the profound contempt of that stiff serjeant-at-law who is waiting for clients near the font, on which his fees are paid. any procession day in the age of edward you can meet, in westminster abbey, near the royal shrines and tombs, chaucer's franklin, or country gentleman, with his red face and white beard. his dagger hangs by his silk purse, and his girdle is as white as milk, for our friend has been a sheriff and knight of the shire, and is known all buckinghamshire over for his open house and well-covered board. aye, and many a fat partridge he has in his pen, and many a fat pike in his fish-pond. chaucer's shipman we shall be certain to discover near billingsgate. he is from dartmouth, and wears a short coat, and a knife hanging from his neck. a hardy good fellow he is, and shrewd, and his beard has shaken in many a tempest. bless you! the captain of the _magdalen_ knows all the havens from gothland to cape finisterre, aye, and every creek in brittany and spain; and many a draught of bordeaux wine he has tapped at night from his cargo. nor must we forget that favourite pilgrim of chaucer--the poor parson of a town, who is also a learned clerk, and who is by many supposed to strongly resemble wycliffe himself, whom chaucer's patron, john of gaunt, protects at the hazard of his life. he is no proud pharisee, like the fat abbot who has just gone past the church door; but benign and wondrous diligent, and in adversity full patient. rather than be cursed for the tithe he takes, he gives to the poor of his very subsistence. come rain, come thunder, staff in hand, he visits the farthest end of his parish; he has no spiced conscience-- "for christe's love, and his apostles twelve, he taught, _but first he followed it himselve_." you will find him, be sure, on his knees on the cold floor, before some humble city altar, heedless of all but prayer, or at the lazar-house on his knees, beside some poor leper, and pointing through the shadow of death to the shining gables of the new jerusalem. such were the tenants of chaucer's london. on these types at least we may dwell with certainty. as for the proud nobles and the tough-skulled knights, we must look for them in the pages of froissart. of the age of edward iii. at least our patriarchal poet has shown us some vivid glimpses, and imagination finds pleasure in tracing home his pilgrims to their houses in st. bartholomew's and budge row, the blackfriars monastery, and the palace on the thames shore.